Last Days Immanuel/Kant - Forgotten Books

L A S T D A Y S

I M M A N U E L/ K A N T

AND OTHER WRIT INGS

TH OM A S D E QU I N CEY

E D I N B U R GH

A D A M A N D C H A R LE S B LA CK

MDCCCL! ! I.

[A ll'

rights reserved.)

CON T E N T S .

T HE SPAN ISH M ILITARY NUN o o o o - o o o u o o u o o . o o - n o . c o o

THE LAST DAYS OF IMMANUEL

SYSTEM on THE HEAVENS A S REVEALED BY LORD Rossxn’s TELESOOPES 167

THE CASUISTRY OFROMAN MM Ls - o o c o t o v v o ' o c o o o 0 0 0

MODERN m t a c o - o o o o o o o o o o o o o o a o 0 0 0 0 00

THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN.

Section 1 .—A n E x traNuisance is introduced into Spain.

ON 3. n ight in the year 1592 (b utwhich n ight is a secretliable to 365 an swers), a Span ish

“son of somebody (z

’

. e

hidalgo), in the fortified town of St Sebastian , re ce ivedthe disagre eable in telligen ce from a nurse

,that his w ife

had just presented him with a daughter. N o present thatthe poor m isjudging lady could possibly have made himwas so en tire ly useless towards any purpose of his . He

had thre e daughters already; which happen ed to b e m ore

by 2 -1- 1 , according to his reckon ing,than any reasonable

allowan ce ofdaughters . A supernum erary son m ight havebeen stowed away ; b ut supernum erary daughters we rethe very nuisan ce of Spain . H e did, therefore , what insuch cases every proud and lazy Span ish gen tleman endeavoured to do. A nd surely I n e ed not in terrupt m yse lfby any parenthesis to inform the base British reader, whomakes it his glory to work hard

,that the peculiar poin t of

honour for the Span ish gen tleman lay precise ly in thesetwo qualities of pride and laziness : for, if he were not

proud , or had anything to do,what could you look for

4 THE SPAN ISH M ILITARY NO N .

but ruin to the old Span ish aristocracy ? som e of whom

b oasted that no m ember of the ir house (un less illegiti

m ate,and a m ere terrcefilz

'

us) had don e a day’s work since

the flood . I n the ark they adm itted that Noah kept.them tightly to work; because , in fact, there was work todo

,that m ust b e don e by som ebody. But once an chored

upon Ararat, they insisted upon it m ost indignan tly thatno an cestor of the Span ish noblesse had ever worked, e xcept through his slaves. A nd with a view to n ew leasesof idlen ess, through n ew gen eration s of slaves

,it was (as

many people think) that Spain went so heartily into theenterprises of Cortez and Pizarro. A seden tary body of

Dons,without n eeding to uncross the ir thrice noble legs,

would thus levy e ternal tributes of gold and silver uponeternal m ines, through eternal succession s of nation s thathad been , and were to b e

,enslaved. Mean tim e

,un til

these golden vision s should b e realised,aristocratic daugh

ters,who con stituted the hereditary torm en t of the true

Castilian Don,were to b e disposed ofin the good old way ;

v iz .,by quartering them for life upon nunn erie s : a plan

which entailed no sacrifice whatever upon any of the par

ties con cern ed ; except, indeed, the l ittle insign ifican t sacrifice ofhappiness and natural birthrights to the daughters.

But this little in evitable wreck, when placed in the counter scale to the magn ificent purchase of e ternal idl en essfor an aristocracy so ancien t

, was sure ly entitled to littleattention am ongst philosophers. Daughters must perishby generation s, and ought to b e proud of perishin g

,in

order that the ir papas,being hidalgos

,m ight luxuriate in

lazin ess . Accordingly,on this system

,our hidalgo ofSt

Sebastian wrapped the n ew little daughter,odious to his

paternal eyes, in a pocke t- handkerchief, and then wrapping up his own throat with a great deal m ore care, offhe

T HE SPAN ISH M ILIT A RY N UN .

bolted to the n e ighbouring conven t ofStSebastian , m ean

ing by that term not m ere ly a conven t of that city, b ut

also (am ongst several convents) the on e dedicated to thatsaint. It is well that in this quarre lsom e world we quarre l furiously about tastes ; sin ce , agre e ing too close ly aboutthe obj ects to b e liked, we should agree too close ly aboutthe obje cts to b e appropriated; which would bre ed m uchm ore fighting than is bred by disagre e ing. That litt lehuman tadpole

,which the old toad of a father would not

suffer to stay ten m inutes in his house , proved as welcom e

atthe nunn ery ofSt Sebastian as she was odious athom e .

The lady superior ofthe conven t was aun t,by the m other’s

s ide, to the n ew - born stranger . She therefore kissed andblessed the little lady. The poor nun s

, who were n everto have any babie s of the ir own

,and w ere languishing for

som e amusem en t,perfe ctly doated on this prospect of a

wee pet. The superior thanked the hidalgo for his verysplendid present. The nuns thanked him each and all;

un til the old crocodile actually began to whimper sentim entally atwhat he n ow perce ived to b e excess of m un ificence in him se lf. Munificence, indeed, he remarked, washis foible

,n ext after parental tendern ess .

2 . Waita little, Hidalgo.

’

What a luxury it is,som e tim es , to a cyn ic that there go

two words to a bargain . I n the conven t of StSebastianall was gratitude ; gratitude (as aforesaid) to the hidalgofrom all the conven t for his presen t, un til at last thehidalgo began to express gratitude to them for their gratitude to him . Then cam e a rol ling fire of thanks to StSebastian ; from the superior, for sending a future sain t;from the nuns, for sending such a love of a plaything;and, finally, from papa, for sen ding such substan tial boai d

6 TH E SPAN ISH M ILITARY N UN .

and well -bolted lodgings : “ From which,”said the mal i~

cion s old fellow,

my pussy will n ever find her way outtoa thorny and dangerous world. Won

’t she ? I suspectson of som ebody

,that the n ext tim e you see

“ pussy,which m ay happen to b e also the last, will not b e in a

convent ofany kind. At present, whilst this gen eral rendering of thanks was going on , on e person on ly took no

part in them . That person was“ pussy

,whose little

figure lay quietly stre tched out in the arm s of a sm ilingyoung nun

,with eyes n early shut, yet peering a little at

the candles. Pussy said nothing. It’s of no great use tosay m uch, when all the world is again st you. But if StSebastian had enabled her to speak out the ‘whole truth

,

pussy would have said : “ So, M r H idalgo, you have beene ngaging lodgings for m e ; lodgings for life . Wait a little .

We’l l try that question , when my claws are grown a little

longer.

”

3,— Symptoms ofMutiny.

D isappoin tm en t, therefore , was gathering ahead. But

for the presen t there was nothing ofthe kind. That nobleold crocodile , papa, was not in the least disappointed asregarded his expectation of having no anxiety to waste ,and no m on ey to pay, on account ofhis youngest daughter.

H e in sisted on his right to forge t her; and in a week hadforgotten her, n ever to think ofher again b ut on ce . The

lady superior, as regarded her demands, was equally con

tent, and through a course of several years; for, as oftenas she asked pussy if she would b e a sain t

,pussy replied

that she would, if saints were allowed plen ty of sweetm eats . But least of all were the nuns disappoin ted .

Everything that they had fan cied possible in a humanplaything fell short ofwhat pussy real ised in racketing

,

racing, and eternal plots against the peace of the elder

THE SPAN ISH MILITARY NUN . 7

nuns . N o fox ever kept a hen - roost in such alarm as

pussy kept the dorm itory ofthe sen ior sisters ; whilst theyounger ladies were run off the ir legs by the e ternal wiles.and had their gravity discom posed, even in chapel, by thee ternal antics

,ofthis privileged little kitten .

The kitten had long ago rece ived a baptismal nam e ,

which was Kitty, or Kate ; and thatin Span ish is Catalina.

It was a good nam e,as it recalled her original nam e of

“ pussy.

”A nd

,by the way, she had also an an cien t and

honourable surnam e - via ,D e E rauso— which is to this day

a nam e rooted in Biscay. H er father,the hidalgo, was a

m ilitary cfiicer in the Span ish' service,and had little care

whether his kitten should turn out a wolf or a lamb, having made over the fe e sim ple of his own in terest in the

little Kate to StSebastian , to have and to hold,”so long

as Kate should ke ep her hold of this presen t life . Katehad no apparent inten tion to let slip that hold; for she

was l om ing as a rose - bush in Jun e , tall and strongas a young cedar. Yet

,notwithstanding this robust

health,which forbade on e to think of separation from St

Sebastian ) by death,and notwithstanding the strength of

the conven t walls,which forbade on e to think of any

other separation , the tim e was drawing n ear when St

Sebastian ’

s lease in Kate m ust,in legal phrase , deter

m ine and any Chateaux en E spagne that the sain t m ighthave built on the cloistral fidelity ofhis pet Catalina, mustsudden ly give way in on e hour

,l ike m any other van ities

in our own days ofSpan ish growth ; such as Spanish con

stitutions and charters, Span ish finan cial reform s

, Span ishbonds

,and other little varieties of Spanish osten tatious

m endacity.

fi t— The Symptoms Thicken .

After reaching her tenth ycar, Catalinabecam e thought‘

a

6 THE SPAN ISH M ILl TABY NUN .

ful and not very docile . At tim es she was even head

strong and turbulen t, so that the gentle sisterhood of St

Sebastian,who had no other pet or plaything in the world,

began to w e ep in secret; fearing that they m ight havebeen rearing by m istake som e future tigress; for as to

infan cy, that, you know, is playful and innocen t even in

the cubs ofa tigress. Butthere the ladies were going too

far. Catalina was im pe tuous and aspiring, violen t som e

tim es , headstrong and haughty towards those who pre

Sum ed upon her youth,absolutely rebellious again st all

open harshn ess, b ut still gen erous and m ost forgiving,

disdainful of petty arts,and emphatically a n oble girl.

She was gen tle , if people would let her b e so. Butwe to

those that took liberties with her ! A female servan t ofthe conven t, in som e authority, on e day, in passing up theaisle to m atins

,wilfully gave Kate a push; and, in re turn ,

Kate,who n ever left her debts in arrear, gave the servan t

for a keepsake such a look, as that servan t carried withher in fearful rem embran ce to her grave . It se em ed asif Kate had tropic blood in her ve in s, that con tinuallycalled her away to the tropics. It was all the fault ofthatblue rejoicing sky ,

”ofthose purple Biscayan m oun tain s ,

of that glad tumultuous ocean , which She beheld dailyfrom the nunn ery garden s. Or, if on ly half ofit was theirfault, the other half lay in thdse golden tales, stream ingupwards even in to the san ctuaries of convents

,like m orn

ing m ists touched by earliest sun light, of kingdom s overshadowing a new world

,which had been founded by her

kin sm en with the sim ple aid ofa horse and a lan ce . The

reader is to rem ember that this is no rom an ce,or at least

no fiction , that he is reading; and it is proper to rem indthe reader ofreal rom an ces in Ariosto or our own Spen ser.

that such martial ladie s as the M arfisaor B radamantofthe

THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN . 9

first, andBritomartofthe other, were really notthe im probab ilities that m odern socie ty imagines . Many a stout m an

,

as you will soon see ; found that Kate , with a sabre in hand,and well m ounted, was no roman ce atall, but far too seriousa fact.

5 . G‘

ood- night, StSebastian

The day is com e— the even ing is c om e— when our poorKate

,that had for fifteen years been so tenderly rocked

in the arm s of St Sebastian and his daughters,and that

hen ceforth shall hardly find a breathing space betwe ene ternal storm s, must see : her peaceful cell, must see theholy chapel, for the last tim e . It was at vespers , it wasduring the chan ting of the vesper service

,that she finally

read the secret signal for her departure,which long she

had be en looking for. It happen ed that her aun t,the

Lady Prin cipal,had forgotten her breviary. As this was

311 a private ’

scrutoire , the pruden t lady did not choose tosend a servantfor it

,b ut gave the k ey to her n iece . The

n iece , on Open ing the ’

scrutoire , saw,with that rapidity of

eye- glan ce for the on e thing n eeded in great em ergen cies

which eve r attended her through l ife,that now was the

mom en t, now had the clock struck,for an Opportun ity

which, if n eglected, m ight never re turn : There lay thetotal keys, in on e m assive trousseau, of that m onastic fortress, im pregnable even to arm ie s from without. St Se

bastian ! do you se e what your pet is going to do ? A nd

do it she will,as sure as your nam e is St Sebastian . Kate

went back to her aun t with the breviary and the k ey ;

b ut taking good'

care to leave that awful door,on whose

hinge revolved'

her whole future life,un locked . D eliver

ing the two article s to the superior,she com plain ed of

headache— (ah, Kate ! what did you know of headaches ?)—upon which her aun t

,k is sing her forehead, dism issed

10 THE SPANISH M ILITARY NUN .

her to b ed. N ow,then

,through three - fourths ofan hour

Kate will have free e lbow- room for unan choring her boat,for un shipping her cars, and for pulling ahead right outofSt Sebastian ’s cove in to the main ocean Oflife .

Catalina,the reader is to understand, does not belong

to the class of person s in whom pre- em inen tly I profess

an interest. But everywhere on e loves en ergy and in

dom itable courage . A nd always what is best in its kin done adm ires, even where the kind m ay happen to b e n ot

Specially attractive . Kate’s advan tages for her rdle in

this life lay in four things : viz ., in a we ll- built person,

and a particularly strong wrist; 2d, in a heart that nothing could appal ; 3d, in a sagacious head

,never drawn

aside from the hoc age (from the instan t question of the

hour) by any w eakn ess of imagination ; 4th, in a tolerablythick skin— not literally

,for She was fair and bloom ing

,

and em inently handsom e,having such a skin

,in fact

,as

becam e a young woman of fam ily in northernmost Spain ;b uther sensibilitie s were obtuse as regarded some m odes ofde licacy

,some m odes of equity

,some m odes Of the world’s

Opin ion,and all m ode s whatever of personal hardship .

Lay a stre ss on that word some— for, as to de licacy, shen ever lost sight of that kind which peculiarly con cernsher se x . Long afterwards She told the Pope him se lf

,when

confessing without disguise to the paternal old m an hersad and infin ite wanderings (and I fee l convin ced of her

veracity), that in this respe ct— viz.,all which con cern ed

her sexual honour— even then she was as pure as a child .

A nd, as to equity

,it was only that she substituted the

rude natural equity Of camps for the specious and con

ventional equity ofcourts and town s . I must add,though

atthe cost Of interrupting the story by two or thre e m ore

sentences, that Catal ina had also a fifth advan tage,which

THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN . l l

sounds humbly,but is really of use in a world

,where

even to fold and seal a letter adroitly is notthe lowest ofaccom plishm ents . She was a handy girl . She could turnher han d to anything; Of which I will give you two m e

m orab le instan ces . Was there ever a girl in this worldbut herse lf that cheated and snapped her fingers at thatawful Inquisition

,which brooded over the conven ts Of

Spain ? that did this without collusion from outside ; trusting to n obody, but to herself, and what beside ? to on e

n eedle,two Ske in s of thread

,and a b ad pair of scissors !

For that the scissors were b ad, though Kate does not sayso in her m em oirs

,I know by an apriori argum en t ; viz .,

because all scissors were b ad in the year 1607. N ow,say

all de cen t logician s,from a: un iversal to a particular valet

consequentia, the right Of inferen ce is good. A ll scissorswere b ad, ergo some scissors were b ad. The se cond in~

stance of her handin ess wil l surprise you even m ore

She once stood upon a scafi'

old,under sen ten ce of death

(but, understand, on the evidence offalse witn esses). JackK etch— or

,as the present gen eration calls him

,M r Cal

craft, or Calcrafl,E sq.

”— was absolutely tying the

knot under her ear, and the sham eful m an of ropes fumbled so deplorably

,that Kate (who by m uch nautical e x pe

ricuce had learned from another sort Of “ Jack ”how a

knot should b e tied in this world) lost all patien ce withthe con tem ptible artist

,told him she was asham ed ofhim

,

took the rope out of his hand,and tied the knot irre

proachab ly herself. The crowd saluted her w ith a festalroll

,long and loud, of m

’

vas ; and this word m’

ea be ing aword ofgood augury— b ut stop; letm e notanticipate .

From this sketch of Catalina’s character, the reader isprepared to understand the decision of he r pre sen t proce eding. She had no tim e to lose : the tw ilight, it is true,

12 THE SPANISH M ILITARY N UN .

favoured her; b ut in any Season twilight is as short - livedas a farthing rushlight; and She m ust get under hidingbefore pursuit comm en ced. Con sequen tly she lost n ot

one Of her forty-five m inutes in picking and choosing.

N o shilly- shally in Kate . She saw with the eyeball of an

eagle what was indispen sable . Som e little m on ey perhaps

,in the first place , to pay the first toll- b ar of l ife : so

,

out of four shillings in Aun ty’s purse,or what am oun ted

to that English sum in various Span ish coin s, she tookon e . You can

’t say that was exorbitan t . Which of us

wouldn ’t subscribe a Shil ling for poor Kate,to ' put in to

the first trouser- pockets that ever she will wear ? I re

m ember even yet, as a personal experien ce , that whenfirst arrayed, atfour years old, in nankeen trousers, thoughstil l so far re tain ing herm aphrodite relation s of dress asto wear a petticoat above m y trousers, all my femalefriends (because they pitied m e

,as on e that had suffered

from years of ague) filled m y pockets with half- crown s ,ofwhich I can render no accoun t at this day. Butwhatwere my poor pre ten sion s by the Side of Kate’s ? Katewas a fin e bloom ing girl offifte en

,with no touch ofague ;

and,before the n ext sun rises

,Kate shall draw on her

first trousers,made by he r own hand and, that she m ay

do so,of all the valuables in aunty’s repository She takes

n othing beside,first (for I dete st your ridiculous and m ost

pedan tic n eologism Offirstly)— first, the shilling, for whichI have already given a re ce ipt ; secondly, two ske ins of

suitable thread ; thirdly, one stout needle,and (as I told

you before , if you would please to rem ember things) on eb ad pair of scissors . N ow she was ready; ready to castof? St Sebastian’s towing - rope ; ready to cut and run for

port anywhere , which port (according to a smart Am e

rican adage) is to b e looked for at the back of beyond.

”

THE SPANISH M ILITARY NUN . 13

The fin ishing touch Of her preparation s was to pick out

the proper keys : even there she showed the sam e diseretion . She did no gratuitous m ischief. She did not takethe win e - cellar k ey, which would have irritated the goodfather confessor; she did not take the k ey of the closetwhich held the pepperm in t-water and other cordials, forthat would have distressed the e lderly nun s. She tookthose keys on ly that belonged to her, if eve r keys did; forthey were the keys that look ed her out from her naturalbirthright of liberty. Very different views are taken bydifferen t partie s of this particular act now m editated byKate . The Court of Rom e treats it as the imm ediatesuggestion of He ll, and Open to no forgiveness . AnotherCourt

,far loftier, am pler, and of larger authority— viz.

,

the Court which holds its dreadful tribunal in the humanheart and con scien ce— pronoun ces this act an inalienableprivilege of man

,and the m ere reassertion O fa birthright

that can neither be bought nor sold.

6 .—Kate

’s FirstBwouac andFirstMarch.

Right or wrong,however

,in Hom ish casuistry, Kate

was resolved to letherself out and did ; and, for fear anyman should creep in while ve spers lasted

,and steal the

kitchen grate,she looked her Old friends in . Then she

sought a She lter. The air was m oderately warm . She

hurried into a chestnut wood. and upon withered leaves,which furn ished to Kate her very first bivouac in a longsuccession ofsuch experiences

,she slept till !earliest dawn .

Span ish die t and youth leave the digestion undisordered,and the slumbers light . When the lark rose , up rose

Catalina. N0 tim e to lose ; for she was still in the dressofa nun ; and

‘ therefore,by a law too flagran tly notorious,

liable to the perem ptory challenge and arrest Of any man

14 THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN .

-the very m eanest or poorest— in all Spain . With her

armed finger (ay, by the way, I forgot the thimble ; b ut

Kate did not), She set to work upon her am ply- em

broidered pe tticoat. She turned it wrong side out; and

with the magic that o n ly female hands posse ss, she had

soon sketched and fin ishe d a dashing pair ofWe llington

trousers . Al l other change s were m ade according to thematerials she possessed, and quite sufficien tly to disguisethe two main perils— her se x , and her m onastic dedication . What was she to do next 2 Speaking ofWellingtontrousers anywhere in the north Of Spain would rem ind us,b ut could hardly rem ind her, ofVittoria, where she dim lyhad heard of som e m aternal relative . T o Vittoria, the re ~

fore , She ben t her course ; and, l ike the Duke ofWe l lington , b ut arriving m ore than two c en turies earlier

,she

gained a great victory at that place . She had made a twodays’ march

,with no provisions b utwild berries; she de

pended,for anything be tter, as light - heartedly as th e duke ,

upon attacking,sword in hand

,storm ing her dear friend’s

in tren chm en ts,and effecting a lodgm ent in his breakfast

room,should he happen to possess one . This am iable

re lative proved to b e an e lderly man , who had b ut one

foible,or perhaps it was a virtue , which had by con tinual

developm en t overshadowed his whole nature— it was pedantry. On that hin t Catalina Spoke : she knew by heart,from the services of the conven t

,a good number Of Latin

Dhrases. Latin l— Oh, b utthatwas charm ing; and in one

SO young ! The grave Don own ed the soft im peachm en t ;re lented atonce, and clasped the hopeful young gen tlemanin the We llington trousers to his uncular and rather angular breast. I n this house the yarn Of life was ofam ingledquality. The table was good, b ut that was exactly whatKate cared least about . On the other hand

,the amuse

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7 .- Kate atCourt, where she P rwcmhw Phlebotomy, and is

P romoted.

From Vittoria,Kate was guided by a carrier to Valla

dolid. Luckily,as it seem ed at first, b ut, in fact, it m ade

little differen ce in the end,here , at Valladolid, were as

sembled the King and his Court. Con sequen tly,there

was plen ty of regim ents, and plenty Of regim ental bands.

Attracted by on e of these, Catalinawas quietly listen ingto the m usic, when som e stre et ruflian s

,in derision of the

gay colours and the particular form Of (her forest-madecostum e (rascals ! what sort Of trousers would they havemade with no better scissors it), began to pelt her withston es . Ah

,m y friends ofthe genus b laclcyuard, you little

know who it is that you are se lecting for experim ents.This is the on e creature offifteen years Old in all Spain , b ethe other male or female

,whom nature

,and temper, and

provocation have qualified for taking the conce it out of

you. This she very soon d id, laying open with sharps ton es m ore heads than eith er on e or two, and letting out

rather too little than too much of b ad Valladolid blood.But mark the con stan t villany of this world. CertainAlguazils— very like som e other Alguazils that I know Of

n earer hom e - having stood by quietly to see the friendlessstranger in sulted and assaulted

,now fe lt it the ir duty to

apprehend the poor nun for her m ost natural re taliation :and had there been such a thing as a treadm ill in Valladolid

,Kate was booked for a place on it without further

inquiry. Luckily,injustice does not always prosper. A

gallant young caval ier, who had witn essed from his windows the whole affair

,had se en the provocation , and ad

m ired Catalina’s behaviour— equally patien t at first, andhold at last— hasten ed into the stre et, pursued the Oflieers,forced them to release their prison er, upon stating the

THE SPANISH M ILITARY m m. 17

c ircum stances ofthe case,and instan tly offered to Catalina

a s ituation am ongst his retinue . H e was a man of birthand fortune ; and the place Offered, that of an honorarypage

,not be ing at all degrading even to a “ daughter of

Som ebody, was cheerfully accepted.

8.— Too Good to Last!

Here Catal ina spent a happy quarter of a year ! Shewas now splendidly dressed in dark blue velvet, by a tailorthat did notwork within the gloom ofa chestnut forest.She and the young cavalier, Don Fran cisco de Cardenas,were m utually pleased, and had m utual confiden ce . Allwen t well— un til on e even ing (b ut, luckily, not before thesun had been set so long as to make all things indistin ct),who should march in to the antechamber of the cavalierbut that sublim e of crocodiles, papa, whom we lost sightof fifteen years ago, and shall n ever see again after thisn ight. He had his crocodile tears all ready for use

,in

working order, like agood industrious fire - engine . Whomw ill he speak to first in this lordly m ansion ? It was absolutely to Catalina herself that he advan ced; whom ,

for

m any reason s,he could not b e supposed to recogn ise

lapse of years,m ale attire

,twilight

,were all again st him .

Still, she m ight .have the fam ily coun tenan ce ; and Katefan cied (but it m ust have been a fan cy) that he lock ed?

with a suspicious scrutiny in to her face,as he inquired for

the young D on . To avert her own face, to announ ce himto D on Fran cisco, to wish papa on the shores of that ancien t river

,the Nile

,furn ished b ut on e m om ent’s work to

the active Catalina. She lingered, however, as her placeentitled her to do, at the door Of the audien ce - chamber.She guessed alr eady, but in a m om ent she heard frompapa’s lips, what was the nature of his errand. His

A 2


(laughter Catherine , he inform ed the Don , had elopedfrom the conven t of StSebastian , a place rich in delight,radian t with festal pleasure , overflowing with luxury.

Then he laid open the unparalleled ingratitude of such a

step . Oh,the unseen treasure that had been spen t upon

that girl ! Oh,the untold sum s Of m on ey, the unknown

am ounts of cash,that had been sunk in that unhappy

speculation ! The n ights Of sleeplessn ess sufl'

ered duringher infan cy ! The fifteen years Of solicitude thrown awayin schem es for her improvem en t It would have m ove dthe heart of a stone . The hidalgo wept copiously at hisown pathos . A nd to such a he ight of grandeur had hecarried his Span ish sen se ofthe sublim e , that he disdain edto m en tion— yes ! positively not even in a paren thesiswould he condescend to notice— that pocke t- handkerchiefwhich he had left at St Sebastian ’s fifteen years ago, byway of enve lope for “ pussy

,

”and which

,to the best of

pussy’s knowledge, was the one sole m em orandum ofpapa

ever heard of at St Sebastian ’s . Pussy,however

,saw no

use in revising and correcting the text Of papa’s rem emb rances . She showed her usual pruden ce

,and her usual

incom parable decision . It did not appear, as yet, thatshe would b e reclaim ed (or was at all suspected for thefugitive) by her father, or by D on Cardenas. For it isan instance of that singular fatality which pursued Catal ina through life

,that

,to her own aston ishm en t (as She

n ow collected h'

om her father’s conference), nobody hadtraced her to Valladolid

,nor had her father’s visit any

conn ection with any suspicious traveller in that dire ction .

The case was quite differen t. Strangely en ough, her stree trow had thrown her

,by the purest of accidents

,in to the

one sole household in all Spain that had an Official connection with St Sebastian ’

s . That convent had been

THE SPANISH MILITARY MON. 19

founded by the young cavalier’

s fam ily; and, according tothe usage Of Spain , the young man (as presen t representative ofhis house)was the respon sible protector and officialvisiter Of the e stablishm en t. It was n ot to the D on as

harbourer Of his daughter, but to the D on as hereditary

patron Of the conven t, that the hidalgo was appeal ing.

This be ing so,Kate m ight have staid safe ly som e tim e

longer. Yet,again

,that would b ut have m ultiplied the

clues for tracing her; and, finally, she would too probablyhave been : discovered; after which , with all his youthfulgen erosity, the poor D on could not have prote cted her.

T OO terrific was the vengean ce that awaited an abettor of

any fugitive nun ; but, above all, if such a crim e were‘

per

petrated by an Official mandatory of the church . Yet,

again,so far it was the m ore hazardous course to abscond

,

that it alm ost revealed her to the young D on as the m issing daughter. Still, if it really had that effect, nothingat presen t obliged him to pursue her, as m ight have beenthe case a few we eks later . Kate argued (I daresay)rightly

,as she always did . H er pruden ce whispered e ter

nally,that safety there was n on e for her, un til she had

laid the Atlan tic between herse lf and St Sebastian ’

s . Lifewas to b e for her a Bay of Biscay; and it was odds b utshe had first embarked upon this billowy life from the

l iteral Bay ofBiscay. Chan ce ordered otherwise . Or, as

a Fren chm an says,with e loquent ingenuity, in conn ection

w ith this very story,

“Chance is b ut the pseudonyme OfGod for those particular cases which he does n ot chooseto subscribe open ly with his own sign m anual .” She

crept ups tairs to her“ bedroom . Simple are the travellingpreparations of those that, possessing nothing

,have no

imperials to pack . She had Juvenal ’s qualification for

carolling gaily through a forest full of robbers; for she


had nothing to lose but a change oflinen , that rode easily

enough under her left arm ,leaving the right free for

answering the questions of im pertinen t custom ers. A s

she crept down - stairs, she heard the crocodile still weeping forth his sorrows to the pensive ear of twilight, and

to the sym pathetic Don Francisco. Ah ! what a beautifulideaoccurs to m e at this poin t ! On ce, on the hustings atLiverpool, I saw a m ob orator, whose brawling m outh,open to its widest expan sion, sudden ly som e larking sailor,by the m ost dexterous ofshots, plugged up with a pavingS ton e . Here, now,

atValladolid was another m onth thatequally required plugging. What a pity, then , that som e

gay brother page ofKate’s had not been there to turnaside into the room

,arm ed with a roasted potato, and,

taking a sportsman’s aim , to have lodged it in the crocodile

’

s abom inable m outh ! Yet, what an anachron ism !There were no roasted potatoes in Spain atthat datewhich can b e apode ictically proved

,because in Spain there

were no potatoes at all,and very few in England. But

anger drives aman to say anything.

9 .— How to Choose Lodgings.

Catalina had seen her last of friends and enem ies inValladolid. Short was her tim e there ; but She had improved it so far as to make a few ofboth . There was aneye or two in Valladolid that would have glared withmalice upon her, had she been seen by all eyes in thatcity, as she tripped through the streets in the dusk; andeyes there were that would have soften ed in to tears, hadthey seen the desolate condition ofthe child, or in visionhad seen the struggles that were before her. Butwhat’sthe use ofwasting tears upon our Kate ? Wait till tom orrow morn ing at sunrise , and see if she is particularly

T HE SPANISH MILITARY NUN . l

in n eed ofpity. What, now, should a young lady do— Ipropose it as a subject for a prize essay— that finds herself in Valladolid at n ightfall

,having no le tters of intro

duction,and not aware ofany reason

,great or small, for

preferring this or that stre et in gen eral,except SO far as

she knows of som e reason 'for avoiding on e street in particular ? The great problem I have stated

,Kate investi

gated as she wen t along ; and she solved it with the accuracy which she ever applied to practical exigen cies. Her

con clusion was— that the best door to knock at,in such a

case,was the door where there was no n eed to knock at

all,as be ing deliberately left open to all com ers. For she

argued,that within such a door there would b e n othing to

steal,so that

,at least

, you could not be m istaken in thedark for a thief. Then , as to stealing from her, they m ightdo that if they could .

Upon these prin ciples, which hostile critics will in vainendeavour to underm in e , she laid her han d upon whatseem ed a rude stable -door. Such it proved; and the stablewas notabsolutely em pty : for there was a cart in sidea four-wheeled cart. True

,there was so; but you couldn

’ttake that away in your pocket; and there were also fiveloads of straw— b ut then Of those a lady could take no

m ore than her reticule would carry, which perhaps wasallowed by the courte sy of Spain . SO Kate was right asto the difficulty of be ing challenged for a thief. Closingthe door as gen tly as she had open ed it, she dropped herperson , handsom e ly dressed as she was, upon the n earestheap Of straw. Som e ten fe et further were lying twom ule te ers

,hon est and happy enough, as compared with

the lords of the bedcham ber then in Valladolid : but stillgross m en

,barnally deaf from eating garl ic and on ion s ,

and other horrible substances. Accordingly, they n ever

22 T HE SPANISH MILITARY N UN .

heard her; nor were aware , un til dawn , that such a bloom

ing person existed. But she was aware of them,and of

their conversation . I n the in tervals of their sle ep, theytalked m uch ofan expedition to Am erica, on the poin t ofsailing under D on Ferdinand de Cordova. It was to sailfrom som e Andalusian port. That was the thing for her.

At daylight She woke , and jum ped up, n eeding little m ore

toile t than the birds that already were singing in the gardens

,or than the two m uleteers, who, good, hon e st fellows,

saluted the handsom e b oy kindly— thinking no ill at hism aking fre ewiththeirstraw

,though no leave had be en asked.

With these philo- garlic m en Kate took her departure .

The m orn ing was divin e : and, leaving Valladolid with thetran sports that b efitted such a golden dawn , fe eling alsoalready, in the very Obscurity of her exit

,the pledge of

her final e scape,She cared no longer for the crocodile

,nor

for StSebastian,nor (in the way offear) for the protector

Of St Sebastian,though Of him she thought with som e ten

dern ess; so deep is the rem embrance of kindn ess m ixedwith justice . Andalusia she reached rather slowly; manyweeks the journ ey cost her; b ut, after all, what are we eks ?She reached Seville m any m on ths before She was S ixteenyears Old, and quite in tim e for the expedition .

10.— A n Ugly D ilemma, where Rightand Wrong is reduced to

a Question ofRightor Left.

Ugly indeed is that dilemma where shipwreck and the

seaare on one side ofyou, and fam ine On the other; or, ifa chan ce Of ’ escape is Offered

,apparen tly it depends upon

taking the right road where there is no guide - post.StLucar be ing the port ofre ndezvous for ' the Peruvian

expedition , thither she wen t. All com ers were welcom e onboard the fleet; much more a fine young fellow like Kate .

2t THE SPANISH M ILITARY N UN .

to this place in her m emoirs. I felt, as sure as if I hadread it

,that when day broke we should find Kate at

work. Thimble or ax e , trousers or raft, all one to her.

The captain,though true to his duty, faithful to his

king,and on his king’s accoun t even hopeful, seem s from

the first to have desponded on his own . He gave no helptowards the raft. S ign s were speaking, however, pre ttyloudly that he must do som ething ; for notice to quit wasn ow served pretty liberal ly. Kate’s raft was ready; andShe encouraged the captain to think that it would giveboth of them som ething to hold by in swimm ing, if n oteven carry double. At this m om ent, when all was waitingfor a start

,and the Ship herself was waiting on ly for a

final lurch to say Good- by to the King ofSpain , Kate wen t

and did a thing which som e erring people w ill m iscon strue .

She kn ew of a b ox laden with gold coins, reputed to b ethe King of Spain ’s, and m ean t for con tingen cies on the

voyage out. This she smashed open with her ax e,and

took outa sum in ducats and pistoles equal to on e hundredguineas English ; which, having well secured in a pillowcase, She then lashed firm ly to the raft. Now this, youknow, though not flotsam,

” because it would notfloat, wascertain ly, by maritim e law , j etsam .

” It would b e theidlest of scruples to fan cy that the sea or a shark had abetter right to it than a philosopher

,or a splendid girl

who showed herself capable ofwriting a very fair 8vo, tosay nothing ofher decapitating in battle , as you will find,m ore than on e of the king’s enem ies

,and recovering the

king’s banner. N O san e m oralist would hesitate to do thesam e thing under the sam e circum stan ces, even on boardan English vessel, and though the First Lord ofthe Adm iralty, and the Secretary, that pokes his nose into everything nautical, Should be looking on . The raft was now

THE SPANISH MILITARY N UN . 25

thrown into the sea. Kate jum ped after it,and then en

treated the captain to follow her. He attempted it; but,wanting her youthful agility, he struck his head again st aspar

,and sank like lead, giving notice below that his ship

was com ing after him as fas t as she could m ake ready.

Kate ’s luck was better : she m oun ted the raft,and by the

rising tide was gradually washed ashore , b ut so exhausted,

as to have lost all recolle ction . She lay for hours, un tilthe warm th ofthe sun revived her. On Sitting up

,She saw

a desolate shore stre tching both ways— nothing to eat,

nothing to drink, but fortunately the raft and the m on eyhad been thrown n ear her; non e Of the lashings havinggiven way— on ly what is the use of a gold ducat

,though

worth n in e Shillings in silver, or even ofahundred, am ongsttangle and sea- gulls ? The m oney she distributed am ongsther pockets, and soon found strength to rise and m archforward . Butwhich was forward ? and which backward ?She knew by the conversation Of the sailors that Paitamust b e in the n eighbourhood; and Paita, being a port,could not be in the inside of Peru, but, of course , som e

where on its outside— and the outside of a m aritim e landm ust b e the shore; so that, if She kept the shore

,and

wen t far enough, she could not fail of hitting her footagain st Paita at last

,in the very darkest of n ights, pro

vided only she could first find outwhich was up and whichwas down ; e lse she m ight walk her shoes Off, and find herse lf

,after all

,a thousand m iles in the wrong. Here was

an awkward case , and all for wan t of a guide - post . Still,when one thinks of Kate’s prosperous horoscope ; that,after so long a voyage, she only

,out of the total crew

,

was thrown on.the Am erican shore

,with on e hundred and

five pounds in her purse of clear gain on the voyage , aconviction arises that she could not guess wrongly. She

R— III


m ight have tossed up, having coin s in her pocket, heads

or tails ! b ut this kind of sortilege was then com ing tobe thought irreligious in Christendom ,

as a Jewish and a

heathen m ode ofquestion ing the dark future . She sim plyguessed, therefore ; and very soon a thing happen ed which,though adding nothing to strengthen her guess as a true

one, did much to swe eten it, if it should prove a false on e .

On turning a point Of the shore, She cam e upon abarre l ofbiscuit washed ashore from the ship . Biscuit is on e ofthe

best things I’

know,even if notmade by Mrs Bobo; * but

it is the soon est spoiled ; and one would like to hear coun se lon one puzzling point, why it is that atouch ofwater utterlyruins it

,taking its life, and leaving behind a caputmortuum .

Upon this caput, in de fault ofanything b etter, Kate breakfasted . A nd

,breakfast be ing over, she rang the bell for the

waiter to take away, and to Stop ! what non sen se !There could b e nobell b esideswhich,there couldb e nowaiter.

We ll,then , without asking the waiter

’

s aid,she that was al

ways pruden t packed upsom e ofthe Catholic king’s biscuit,

as she had previously packed up far too little of his gold.

But in such cases a m ost delicate question occurs,pressing

W ho is Mrs Bobo ? The reader will say, “ I know not Bobo.

Possibly; b ut, for al l that, Bobo is known to senates . From the Am e

rican Senate [Friday, March 10, 1854] Bobo received the amplesttestimon ials ofm erits, that have not yetbeen matched. In the debateon W illiam N evins’ claim for the extension ofhis patent for amachinethat rolls and cuts crackers and biscuits, thus spoke Mr Adam s, am ostdistinguished senator, again st Mr Badger

‘ It is said this is a discovery ofthe patentee for making the best biscuits. Now,

ifitb e so, he

must have got his invention from Mrs Bobo of A labama; for She cer

tainly makes better biscuit than anybody in the world. I can prove bymy friend from Alabama (Mr Clay), who Sits beside m e , and by anyman who ever staid atMrs Bobo’s house , that she makes better biscuitthan anybody else in the world; and if this man has the best plan formaking biscuit, he must have got it from her.

”Henceforward I hope we

know where to apply for biscuit.

THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN . 2 7

equally on dietetics and algebra. It is this : if you packuptoo m uch, then , by this extra burden ofsalt provision s

,

you may retard for days your arrival at fresh provisions ;on the other hand, if you pack up too little , you may

fam ish,and n ever arrive at all . Catal ina hit the j uste

milieu ; and, about twilight on the third day, she foundherself en tering Paita

,without having had to swim any

very broad river in her walk.

1 1 .—From the Malice ofthe Sea, to the Malice ofMan and

Woman .

The first thing,in such a case ofdistress

,which ayoung

lady doe s, even if she happens to b e a young gentlem an ,is to beautify her dress. Kate always attended to that.

The man she sen t for was not properly a tailor,b ut on e

who em ployed tailors,he him se lf furn ishing the materials.

His nam e was Urquiza,a fact ofvery little im portan ce to

us in 1854,if it had stood on ly at the head and foot of

Kate ’s little accoun t. But,unhappily for Kate ’s debuton

this vast Am erican stage,the case was otherwise . Mr

Urquiza had the m isfortune (equally comm on in the OldWorld and the N ew) ofbe ing a knave ; and also a showy,specious knave . Kate

,who had prospered under seaallow

ances ofbiscuit and hardship,was now expanding in pro

portion s. With very little van ity or con sciousn ess on thathead, she now displayed a really magn ificen t person ; and,when dressed an ew in the way that becam e ayoung officerin the Span ish service, she look ed"

Ethe representative pic

“ She looked, &c . : - If ever the reader should visit A ix - la- Chapelle ,he wil l probably fee l interest enough in the poor, wild, impassioned girlto look outfor a picture ofher in that city, and the on ly on e known cer

tai nty to b e authentic . It is in the collection ofMr Sempeller. F0:

some tims it was supposed that the best (ifnot the only) portrait ofher


ture ofa Span ish caballador. It is strange that such an

appearan ce, and such a rank,should have suggested to

Urquizathe presumptuous ideaofwishing that Kate m igh tbecom e his clerk. H e did, however, wish it; for Katewrote a beautiful hand; and a stranger thing is, that Kateaccepted his proposal. This m ight arise from the ditfi

culty of m oving in those days to any distan ce in Pe ru.

The ship which threw Kate ashore had been m erely bringing stores to the station ofPaita; and no corps ofthe royalarm ies was readily to be reached, whilst som ething mustb e don e at on ce for a livelihood. Urquiza had two m er

cantile e stablishm en ts— on e at Truj illo, to which he re

paired in person , on Kate’s agreeing to undertake themanagem en t ofthe other in Paita. Like the sensible girlthat we have always found her, she demanded specific instruction s for her guidance in duties so new. Certainlyshe was in a fair way for see ing life . Telling her headsat St Sebastian ’s, m antsuvring irregular verbs at Vittoria

,acting as gen tleman - ushe r atValladolid

,serving his

Span ish Maj esty round Cape Horn , fighting with storm s

and sharks off the coast ofPeru, and now comm encing asbook-keeper or commie to a draper atPaita— does she not

justify the character that I m yself gave her,just before

dism issing her from St Sebastian’s, of be ing a“ handy ”

girl ? Mr Urquiz a’

s in struction s were short,easy to b e

understood, but rather com ic; and yet (which is odd) theyled to tragic results. There were two debtors ofthe shop

lurked somewhere in Italy. Sin ce the discovery of the picture atA ixla-Chapell e, that notion has been abandoned. But there is great reasonto believe that, both in Madrid and Rom e, many portraits of her musthave been painted to m eet the inten se interest which arose in her historysubsequently amongst all m en ofrank, m ilitary or ecclesiastical , whetherin Italy or Spain . The date of these would range between sixteen and

twenty-two years from the period which we have now reached

TH E SPAN ISH MILITARY N UN . 29

(many, it is to be hoped, but two m eriting his affectionate

notice), with respect to whom he left the m ost oppositedirections. The one was a very handsom e lady; and the

rule as to her was, that she was to have credit un lim ited;strictly un lim ited. That seem ed plain . The other cus

tom er, favoured by Mr U rquiz a’

s valedictory thoughts,was a young man ,

cousin to the handsom e lady, and bear

ing the nam e of Reyes . This youth occupied in M r U r

quiz a’

s e stim ate the sam e hyperbol ical rank as the handsom e lady

,but on the opposite side ofthe equation . The

rule as to him was, that he was to have no credit ; strictlynon e . I n this case

,also

,Kate saw n o difficulty; and when

'

she cam e to know Mr Reyes a l ittle , she found the path of

pleasure coin ciding with the path of duty. Mr Urquizacould not b e m ore precise in laying down the rule

,than

Kate was in enforcing it. But in the other case a scruplearose . Un lim ited m ight b e a word, n ot of Span ish law,

b ut of Span ish rhetoric ; such as,“ L ive a thousand years,

”

which even annuity office s utter without a pang. Katetherefore wrote to Truj illo

,expressing her hon est fears,

and desiring to have m ore defin ite in struction s. Thesewere positive . If the lady chose to send for the en tireshop, her accoun t was to be debited in stan tly with that.She had

, however, as yet, not sen t for the shop,b ut she

began to man ifest strong signs ofsending for the shopman .

Upon the bloom ing young Biscayan had her roving eye

settled ; and she was in the course ofm aking upher m indto take Kate for a swe etheart. Poor Kate saw this witha heavy heart . A nd

,at the sam e tim e that she had a

prospect of a tender friend m ore than she wanted,she

had becom e certain of an extra en emy that she wan tedquite as l ittle. What She had don e to offend Mr Reyes,Kate could not guess, except as to the matter of the


credit; b ut then , in that she only followed her in structions.Still, Mr Reyes was of opin ion that there were two waysof executing orders : b ut the main ofi

’

ence was un inten

ticnal on Kate ’s part. Reyes (though as yet she did notknow it) had him self been a candidate for the situation of

clerk; and in tended probably to keep the equation precisely as it was with respect to the allowan ce of credit,on ly to change places with the handsom e lady— keepingher on the n egative side

,him self on the affirmative ; an

arrangem en t, you know, that in the final result could havemade n o sort ofpecun iary differen ce to Urquiza.

Thus stood m atters,when a party of vagran t com e

dian s strolled into Paita. Kate,be ing a native Span iard,

ranked as on e of the Paita aristocracy, and was expectedto attend. She did so; and there also was the malignan tReyes . H e cam e and seated him se lf purposely so as to

shut out Kate from all view of the stage . She, who had

n othing ofthe bul ly in her nature,and was a gen tle crea

ture , when her wild Biscayan blood had not be en kindledby in sult, courteously requested him to m ove a l ittle ; uponwh ichB eyes repl ied

,that it was not in his power to oblige

the clerk as to that, b ut that he could oblige him by cut

ting his thrdat. The tiger that slept in Catalinawaken edat once . She se ized him

,and would have exe cuted ven

geance on the spot, but that a party of young m en in terposed,

'

for the presen t, to part them . The n ext day, when

Kate (always ready to forge t and forgive)was thinking nom ore ofthe row

,Reyes passed; by spitting atthe window,

and other gestures in sulting to Kate,again he roused her

Span ish blood. Out she rushed,sword in hand; a due l b e

gan in the street; and very soon Kate’s sword had passed

into the heart ofReyes. N ow that the m ischief was done,the police were, as usual, all alive for the pleasure ofaveng


and obey the clerk for life ? Kate could not see her way

through this logic . Non sen se, my friend,” said Urquiza,

you don’t com prehend. A s it stands, the affair is a m ur

der,and hanging the penalty. But, if you marry into the

m urdered man’

s house,then it be com es a little fam ily

m urder— all quiet and com fortable am ongst ourselves .

What has the corre’

gidor to do with that ? or the publice ither ? N ow

,let m e in troduce the bride .

”Supper en

tered at that m om en t, and the bride imm ediate ly after.

The thoughtfuln ess of Kate was narrowly observed, andeven al luded to

,but politely ascribed to the natural

anxieties ofa prison er, and the very im perfect state ofhisl iberation even yet from prison surveillance. Kate had,indeed, never been in so trying a s ituation before . The

anxie ties ofthe farewe ll n ight atStSebastian were nothingto this; because , even if she had failed then, a failure m ightn ot have been always irreparable . It was b ut to watchand wait. But n ow

,at this supper table

,she was n ot

m ore al ive to the nature of the peril than she was to the

fact, that if, before the n ight closed,she did not by som e

m ean s e scape from it,she never would e scape with life .

The deception as to her se x,though re sting on no m otive

that poin ted to these people,or at al l con cern ed them ,

would b e re sen ted as if it had. The lady would regard thecase as am ockery; and Urquizawould lose his opportun ityofde livering h im self from an im perious m istress. According to the usages of the tim es and coun try

,Kate kn ew

that within twelve hours She would b e assassinated.

People ofinfirm er resolution would have lingered atthesupper table , for the sake of putting off the evil m om en tof final crisis . N ot so Kate . She had revolved the caseon all its sides in a few m inutes, and had form ed her resolation . This don e, she was as ready for the trial at one


mom en t as another ; and, when the lady suggested thatthe hardships ofaprison must have made repose desirable ,Kate assented

,and in stantly rose . A sort of procession

form ed, for the purpose ofdoing honour to the interestingguest

,and escorting him in pom p to his bedroom . Kate

viewe d it m uch in the sam e light as that procession to

which for som e days she had been expe cting an invitationfrom the corre

’

gidor. Far ahead ran the servant - woman,

as a sort of outrider; then cam e Urquiz a, like a pacha of

two tails, who granted two sorts ofcredit— viz .

,un lim ited

and non e atall— bearing two wax - lights,on e in each hand

,

and wanting only cymbals and kettle - drum s to expressemphatically the pathos of his Castilian strut ; n ext cam e

the bride,a little in advan ce ofthe clerk, but still turn ing

obliquely towards him , and sm iling graciously in to hisface; lastly, bringing up the rear

,cam e the prison er— our

poor ensnared Kate— the nun,the page , the mate

,the

clerk, the hom icide , the convict ; and for this n ight on ly,

by particular desire,the bridegroom elect.

It was Kate’s fixed opin ion,that

,if for a m om en t she

entered any b edroom having obviously n o outlet,her fate

would b e that of an ox on ce driven within the sham bles .

Outside , the bul lock m ight make som e“ defen ce with his

horn s ; b utonce in , with no space for turn ing, he is muffledand gagged. She carried her eye , therefore , like a hawk

’

s,

steady, though restless,for vigilan t exam inat ion of every

angle she turn ed. Before she entered any bedroom , she was

resolved to reconnoitre it from the doorway, and, in caseofn ecessity, show fight aton ce before en tering, as the bestchance in a crisis where all chances were b ad. Everythingends ; and at last the procession reached the bedroom - door,the outrider having filed offto the rear. On e glan ce sufficed to satisfy Kate that windows there were non e, and

34 THE SPANISH M IL ITARY NUN .

therefore no outlet for escape. Treachery appeared evenin that; and Kate, though un fortunately without arm s, wasnow fixed for resistan ce . Mr Urquiza entered first, witha strut m ore than usually grandiose , and in expre ssiblysublim e—

“Sound the trum pets Beat the drum s !” There

were , as we know already, no windows ; b uta slight in terruption to Mr Urquiz a

’

s pom pous tread showed that therewere steps downwards into the room . Those , thoughtKate

,w ill suit m e even better. She had watched the un

locking of the bedroom - door— she had lost nothing— she

had marked that the k ey was left in the lock. At thism om ent

, the beautiful lady, as on e acquain ted with the details ofthe house , turn ing w ith the air ofa gracious m on itress

,held out her fair han d to guide Kate in careful de

scen t ofthe steps . This had the air of' taking outKate to

dan ce ; and Kate , at that sam e m om en t,answering to it by

the ge sture ofa m odern waltzer,threw her arm behind the

lady’s waist ; hurled her headlong down the steps rightagainst Mr Urquiz a, draper and haberdasher; and then ,with the speed ofl ightn ing, throw ing the dee r home withinits architrave

,doubly locked the creditor and un lim ited

debtor in to the rat- trap which they had prepared for herse lf.The afi

'

righted outrider fled with horror; she kn ew thatthe clerk had already comm itted on e hom icide ; a secondwould cost him still less thought; and thus it happe n edthat egress was left easy.

13.— From Human Malice

,back again to the Malice

of Winds and Waves.But

, when abroad, and free on ce m ore in the brightstarry n ight, which way should Kate turn ? The wholecity would prove but on e vast rat- trap for her

, as bad

as Mr Urquiz a’

s, if she was not of? before m orn ing. At a

T HES PAN ISH M ILITARY NUN . 5

glance she comprehended that the seawas her on ly chance .

To the port she' fled. A l l was Silen t . Watchm en therewere n on e ; and she jumped in to a boat. To use the cars

was dangerous, for she had no , m ean s of muffling them.

But She con trived to hoist a sail, pushed off with a boathook, and was soon stretching across the water for them outh of the harbour

,before a bre eze light b ut favour

able . Having cleared the difficulties ofexit, she lay down ,and un in ten tionally fe ll as leep . When she awoke

,the sun

had been up three or four hours ; all 'was right otherwise ;but, had she '

not served as; a sailor, Kate would havetrembled upon finding that

,during her long sle ep of per

haps seven or e ight hours,she had lost sight of land ; b y

what distan ce she could on ly guess ; and in what direction ,was to som e degre e doubtful . All this

,however

,seem ed

a great advan tage to the bold girl,throwing her thoughts

back on 'the en em ies she had left behind. The disadvan

tage was— having no breakfast,not even damaged biscuit ;

and som e anxiety naturally arose as to ulterior prospectsa l ittle beyond the horizon of breakfast. But who’safraid ? A s sailors whistle for a wind

,Catalina real ly

had but to whistl e for anything w ith en ergy,and it was

sure to com e . Like Caesar to th e pilot of Dyrrhachium ,

she m ight have said,for the com fort ofher poor tim orous

boat (though a boat that in fact was de stin ed soon to

perish), Gatalinam v uchie, etfortunas ejus .

” Mean tim e,

b e ing very doubtful as to the best course for sailing,and

conten t if her course did b ut lie off shore,she “ carried

on,

”as sailors say, under easy sail

,going

,in fact

,just

whither and just how the Pacific bre ezes sugge sted in thegentlest ofwhispers . A ll rightbehind, was Kate

’

s Opin ion ;and

,what was better, very soon she m ight say, all right

ahead ; for, som e hour or two before sunset, when dinn er

36 THE SPAN ISH MILITARY N UN .

was for once becom ing, even to Kate, the m ost interestingof subjects for m editation , sudden ly a large ship began to

swe ll upon the brilliant atm osphere . In those latitudes ,and in those years, any ship was pretty sure to b e Span ish

S ixty years later, the odds were in favour of its be ing an

English buccane er; .which would have given a n ew direc

tion to Kate ’s en ergy. Kate continued to make signals

with a handkerchief whiter than the crocodile’s of A nn .

D om . 1592, e lse it would hardly have been noticed .

Perhaps, after all, it would not, b ut that the ship’s course

carried her ve ry n early across Kate ? s . The stranger layto for her. It was dark by the tim e Kate steered herselfunder the Ship’s quarter; and then was seen an instance of

this girl’s eternal wakefulness . Som ething was paintedon the stern of her boat

,she could not see what; but she

judged that, whatever this m ight b e, it would express som e

conn ection .with the port that she had just quitted. N ow,

itwas her wish to break the chain of traces conn ectingher with such a scam p as Urquiza; sin ce e lse, through hiscom m ercial correspondence , he m ight disperse over Perua portrait ofherself by no m ean s flattering. How shouldshe accomplish this 21 It was dark; and she stood, as youm ay see an Eton ian do at tim es, rocking her little boatfrom side to side , until it had taken in water as m uch asm ight b e agreeable . T oo m uch it proved for the boat’scon stitution , and the boat perished of dropsy— Kate declin ing to tap it. She got a ducking herself; b utwhatcared she ? Up the ship’s Side she wen t

,as gaily as ever

,

in those years when she was called pussy,she had raced

afte r the nun s of St Sebastian ; jum ped upon deck, andtold the first lieutenan t

,when he questioned her about her

adven ture s, quite as m uch truth as any man , under therank ofadm iral, had a right to expect.

THE SPANISH MIL ITARY NUN . 37

14.— BrightGleams ofSunshine.

This ship was full ofrecruits for the Span ish army, andbound to Con ception . Even in that destiny was an iteration

,or repeating m emorial of the sign ifican ce that ran

through Catalina’s m ost casual adven tures. She had en

listed am ongst the soldiers ; and, on reaching port,the

very first person who cam e off from shore was a dashingyoung m ilitary oflicer

,whom at on ce

,by his nam e and

rank (though She had n ever c on sciously seen him ), she

i dentified as her own brother. H e was splendidly situatedin the service , be ing the Govern or-Gen eral’s secretary

,b e

sides his rank as a cavalry officer; and his errand on boardbe ing to in spe ct the re cruits

,naturally

,!on reading in the

roll on e ofthem described as a Biscayan,the arden t young

man cam e up with high - bred courtesy to Catalina,took

the young re cruit’s hand with kindness, feeling that to b ea compatriot at so great a distan ce was to b e a sort ofrelative

,and asked with em otion after old boyish rem em

b rances. There was a scriptural pathos in what followed,as if it were some scen e ofdom estic re - un ion open ing itse lffrom patriarchal age s. The young officer was the e ldestson of the house

,and had left Spain when Catalinawas

on ly three years old. But,singularly enough

,Catalina it

was, the little wild cat that he yet rem embered se e ing atSt Sebastian ’s, upon whom his earliest inquirie s settled.

D id the recruit know his fam ily,the D e Erausos ?

”Oh

yes; everybody kn ew them.

“ Did the re cruit know littleCatalina? ” Catalina sm iled

,as she replied that she did ;

and gave such an an imated description of the little fierywretch, as made the officer’s eye flash with gratified tenderness, andwith certain ty that the re cruit was no coun terfe it Biscayan . Indeed, you kn ow,

if Kate couldn ’t give agood description of“ pussy

,

”who could ? The issue ofthe


interview was, that the officer insisted on Kate’s makinga hom e of his quarters . He did other services for hisunknown sister. He placed her as a trooper in his own

regim en t, and favoured her in many a way that is open to

on e having authority. But the person , after all, that did

m ost to serve our Kate, was Kate. War was then ragingwith Indian s

,both from Chili and Peru. Kate had always

don e her duty in action ; but at length, in the decisivebattle ofPuren, there was an open ing for doing som ething

m ore . Havoc had been made of her own squadron ; m ostof the officers were k illed, and th e standard was carriedoff. Kate gathered around her a small party— gallopedafter the Indian column that was carrying away the trophy— charged— saw all her own party killed— b ut, in spite of

wounds on her face and shoulder, succe eded in bearingaway the recovered standard. She rode up to the gen e raland his staff; she dism ounted; she rendered up her prize ;and fainted away, m uch less from the blinding blood, thanfrom the tears of j oy which dimm ed her eye s

,as the ge

neral,waving his sword in adm iration over her head, pro

nounced our Kate on the spot an or standard~

bearer, with a comm ission from the K ing of Spain and

the Indies. Bonny Kate ! noble Kate ! I would therewere nottwo centuries laid betwe en us

,so that I m ight

have the pleasure ofkissing thy fair hand.

15.—The Sunshine is Overcast.

Kate had the good sen se to see the danger of revealingher sex

,or her re lation ship

, even to her own brother. The

grasp ofthe church n ever re laxed,n ever “ prescribed, un

less free ly and by choice . The nun,if discovered, would

7“A lférez — This rank in the Spanish army is, or was, on a leve l

With the modern sous- lieutenantofFrance .

40 TH E SPANISH MILITARY N UN .

for declin ing the service , and did so. But the officer, as

he was sullen ly departing, said, that if he were killed (as

he thought he should b e), his death would lie at Kate ’sdoor. I do not take his view of the case, and am not

m oved by his rhetoric or his logic. Kate was, and re len ted .

The duel was fixed for e leve n at n ight, under the walls of

am onastery. Unhappily, the n ight proved unusually dark,so that the two prin cipals had to tie white handkerchiefsround the ir e lbows, in order to descry each other. In the

confusion they wounded each other m ortally. Upon that,according to ausage n otpeculiar to Spaniards, b utextending (as doubtless the reader knows) for a cen tury longer

to our own countrym en , the two seconds were obliged inhonour to do som ething towards avenging the ir prin cipals .

Kate had her usual fatal luck. Her sword passed she erthrough the body of her oppon ent : this unknown oppon ent falling dead

,had just breath left to cry out, Ah ,

v illain ! you have killed m e !”in a voice of horrific re

proach; and the voice was the voice ofher brother !The m onks ofthe m onastery under whose silen t shadows

this m urderous due l had taken place,rouse d by the clash

ing of swords and the angry shouts of combatan ts, issuedoutwith torches

,to find one on ly of the four officers sur

viving. Every conven t and altar had the right ofasylumfor a short period. According to the custom

,the m onks

carried Kate, insen sible with anguish ofm ind, to the san ctuary ofthe ir chapel . There for som e days they detain edher ; but then, having furn ished her with ahorse and som e

provision s, they turn ed her adrift. Which way should theunhappy fugitive turn ? In blindness ofheart, she turn edtowards the sea. It was the sea that had brought her toPeru; it was the sea that would perhaps carry her away.It was the sea that had first Showed her this land and its

THE SPANISH M ILITARY N UN . 41‘

golden hopes ; it was the sea' that ought to hide from her

its fearful rem em bran ces. The sea it was that' had twicespared her life in extrem itie s; the sea it was that m ight now,

if it chose , take back the bauble that it had spared : in vain .

16.

- Kate’s A scentofthe A ndes.

Three days our poor heroin e followed the coast”. Her

horse was then alm ost unable to m ove ; and on his accountshe turned in land to a thicke t

,for grass and she lter. A s

she drew n ear to it, a voice challenged,“Who goes there ?

”

—Kate answered, Spain .

”

Whatpeople ?”— “A friend.

”

It was two soldiers, deserters, and alm ost starving. Kateshared her provisions with these m en ; and, on hearingthe ir plan ; which was to go over the Cordilleras

,she

agre ed to join the party. Their object was the wild on eof seeking the river D orado

,whose waters rolled along

golden sands,and whose pebble s were em eralds. H ers was

to throw herse lf upon a lin e the least liable to pursuit,and

the readiest for a n ew chapter of life, in which oblivionm ight b e found for the past. After afew days of in cessan tclimbing and fatigue , they found

'

them selves in 'the region sof perpetual snow. Summ er cam e even hither; b ut cam eas vain ly to this kingdom of frost as to the grave of her

brother. N0 fire,b utthe fire ofhuman blood in youthful

ve in s,could ever b e kept burn ing in these aerial solitudes.

Fuel was rarely to b e found,and kindling a fire by inter

friction of dry sticks was a secre t alm ost exclusively I ndian . Howe ver, our Kate can do everything; and she

’

s

the girl,if ever girl did such a thing

,that I back at any

odds for crossing the Cordilleras. I would b etyou som e

thing now,reader

,if I thought you would deposit your

stakes by return ofpost (as they play at chess, through thepost- othee), that Kate does the trick; that she gets down

B 2


to the other Side ; that the soldiers do not; and that thehorse

,if preserved at all, is preserved in a way that will

leave him v ery little to boast of.The party had gathered wild berries and esculent roots

atthe foot of the m ountains, and the horse was of verygreat use in carrying them . But this larder was soonem ptied . There was n othing then to carry; so that thehorse

’s value,as a beast ofburden

,fe ll cen t . per cen t. I n :

fact,very soon he could not carry him self, and it becam e

easy to calculate when he would reach the bottom on the

wrong side the Cordilleras . H e took thre e steps back foron e upwards . A coun cil ofwar being held, the small arm yresolved to slaughter the ir horse . H e

,though a m ember

of the expedition,had no vote ; and, if he had, the votes

would have stood thre e to on e— m aj ority, two against him .

H e was cut into quarters— a diflicult fraction to distributeam ongst a triad ofclaiman ts . No saltpetre or sugar couldb e had ; b utthe frost was an tiseptic. And the horse waspreserved in as useful a sen se as ever apricots were preserved or strawberrie s ; and thatwas the kind ofpreservation which on e page ago I prom ised to the horse .

On a fire, painfully devised out ofbroom and withered

leaves, a horse - steak was dressed; for drink, snow was

allowed atdiscretion . This ought to have revived the party;and Kate, perhaps, it did. But the poor deserters werethin ly clad, and they had notthe boiling heart ofCatalina.

More and m ore they drooped. Kate did her best to cheerthem . Butthe march was n early atan end for them ; and

'

they were going, in on e half- hour,to rece ive the ir last

b i llet. Yet, before this con summ ation , they have a strange

spectacle to see— such as few places could Show but theupper chambers of the Cordilleras . They had reached abillowy scene of rocky masses

,large and small

,looking


shockingly black on their perpendicular sides as they roseoutofthe vast snowy expanse . Upon the highest ofthesethat was accessible , Kate m ounted to look around her

,and

she saw— oh,rapture at such an hour — a man sitting on

a she lf of rock,with a gun by his side . Joyously she

shouted to her com rades,and ran down to comm un icate

the good n ews . H ere was a sportsm an,watching, perhaps,

for an eagle ; and n ow theywould have re lief. On e man’

s

che ek kindled with the he ctic of sudden j oy, and he rose

eagerly to'

m arch ; The other was fast Sinking under thefatal sleep that frost sends before herself as her m ercifulm in ister of death; b uthearing in his dream the tidings ofre lief

,and assisted by his friends

,he also staggeringly

arose . It could not b e three m inutes’ walk, Kate thought,to the station ofthe sportsm an . That thought supportedthem all . Under Kate ’s guidan ce , who had taken a sailor’sglance atthe bearings

,they soon un threaded the labyrin th

ofrocks so far as to bring the man within view. H e had

not left his resting - place ; the ir steps on the soundlesssnow, naturally

,he could n ot hear ; and, as the ir road

brought them upon him from the rear, still less could hesee them . Kate hailed him ; b ut so keen ly was he ab

sorbed in som e speculation,or in the obje ct of his watch

ing, that he took n o n otice of them,n ot even m oving his

head. Com ing close behind him ,Kate touched his shoulder,

and said, “My friend,are you sleeping ? ” Yes, he was

sle eping— sle eping the s le ep from which there is no awaking; and the slight touch of Kate having disturbed theequilibrium ofthe corpse

,down it rolled on the snow : the

frozen body rang like a hollow iron cylinder ; the faceupperm ost

,and blue with m ould, m outh open

,teeth ghastly

and bleaching in the frost, and a frightful grin upon thelips. This dreadful spectacle fin ished the struggles ofthe

44 THE SPANISH M ILITAnY N UN .

w eaker man , who sank and died at on ce . The other made

an effort with so much spirit, that, in Kate’

s Opin ion , hor

ror had acted upon him ben eficially as a stimulan t . But

it was not real ly so. It was simply a spasm of m orbid

strength.A collapse succeeded; his blood began to fre eze ;

he sat down'

in spite ofKate, and he also died without fur

ther struggle . Yes, gon e are the poor suffering deserters ;stretched out and bleaching upon the sn ow; and in sulteddiscipl in e is avenged . Great kings have long arm s; and

sycophan ts are ever athand for the erran d ofthe poten t .

What had frost and snow to do with the quarrel ? Yet

they m ade them selves sycophan tic servan ts to the King ofSpain ; and they it was that dogged his deserters up to the

summ it of the Cordilleras, m ore surely than any Span ishbloodhound

,or any Spanish tirailleur

’s bullet.

17.— Kate stands alon e on the Summitofthe A ndes.

Now is our Kate standing alon e on the summ its of theAndes ; and in solitude that is frightful, for She is alonewith her own afflicted con scien ce . Twice before she had

Stood in solitude as deep upon the wild, wild waters of

the Pacific ; b uther conscience had been then un troubled .

N ow is there nobody left that can help ; her horse is dead— the soldiers are dead. There is nobody that she can

speak to, except God; and very soon you will find thatshe does speak to Him ; for already on these vast aerialdeserts He has been whispering to her. The condition of

Kate in som e respects resembled that of Coleridge’s A n

cient Mariner.

”Butpossibly

,reader, you may b e am ongst

the many care less readers that have n ever fully understood what that condition was . Suffer m e to en lighten

you else you ruin the story ofthe marin er; and by losingall its pathos

,lose half its beauty.


There are three readers ofthe “Ancien t Mariner. The

first is gross enough to fancy all the imagery of the ma

riner’s vision s delivered by the poe t for actual facts ofe x

perisnce ; which be ing im possible , the whole pulverises, forthat reader

,into a baseless fairy tale . The second reader

is wiser than that; he knows that the imagery is the im agery of febrile delirium ; really se en

,b ut not seen as an

external reality. The m ariner had caught the pestilentialfever, which carried off all his mates ; he on ly had sur

vived— the delirium had van ished; b utthe vision s that hadhaunted the del irium remained.

“ Ye s,”says the third

reader, they remain ed; naturally they did, be ing scorchedby fever into his brain ; b ut how did they happen to re

main on ' his belief as gospel truths ? The de lirium had

van ished : why had notthe pain ted scen ery ofthe deliriumvan ished

,except as visionary m em orials of a sorrow that

was can celled ? Why was it that crazin ess settled uponthis marin er’s brain

,driving him

,as ! if he were a Cain, or

another Wandering Jew,to pass like n ight from land to

land;’

and,at certain intervals, wrenching him un til he

made rehearsal of his errors, even at the difficult cost ofholding children from their play

,and old m en from the

chim n ey That crazin ess,as the third reader

deciphers, rose out of a deeper soil than any bodily afl'

ec

tion . It had its root in pen itential sorrow. Oh,bitter is

the sorrow to a conscien tious heart, when , too late, it discovers the depth of a love that has been trampled underfoot ! This marin er had Slain the creature that, on all theearth

,loved him best. I n the darkness ofhis crue l super

stition he had don e it,to save his human brothers from a

fan cied in conven ien ce ; and yet, by that very actofcruelty,

The beautiful words of Sir Philip Sydney. in his “ Defense 01Poesie.”

46 THE SPANISH MILITARY N UN .

he had him self called destruction upon the ir heads . TheNem esis that followed pun ished him through them— him thatwronged through those that wrongfully he sought to b en efit. That Spirit who watches over the san ctitie s oflove isa strong ange l— is a j ealous angel; and this ange l it was

That loved the bird, that loved the manThat shot him with hi s b ow .

”

H e it was that followed the crue l archer into silent and

Slumbering seas

N ine fathom deep he had fol low ’

d him ,

Through the realm s ofm ist and snow .

”

This jealous angel it was that pursued the man in to noon

day darkn ess, and the vision of dying oceans, into delirium

,and final ly (when recovered from disease), into an

un se ttled m ind .

N ot altoge ther un like, tnough fre e from the crim inalinten tion of the m arin er, had be en the offence of Kate ;n otun like , also, was the pun l shm ent that now is doggingher steps . She, like the man n er, had slain the on e solecreature that loved her upon the whole wide earth; she, likethe m arin er

,for this offen ce

,had been hun ted into frost

and snow— very soon will b e hunted into delirium ; andfrom that (if she escapes with life), will b e hun ted into the .

trouble ofa heartthat cannot rest. There was the excuseof on e darkn ess

, physical‘

darkn ess,for her ; there was the

excuse ofanother darkn ess,the darkn ess of sup erstition

,

for th e m arin er. But,with all the excuses that earth

,and

the darkness of earth,can furn ish

,bitter it would b e for

any of us,reader, through every hour of life, waking or

dream ing, to look back upon on e fatal m om en t when wehad pierced the heart that would have died for us . I n thison ly the darkness had been m erciful to Kate— that it hadhidden for ever from her victim the hand that sl ew b in».


been all this while un con sciously executing judgm ent upon

he rself? Runn ing from awrath that was doubtful, into theve ry jaws ofawrath that was in exorable ? Flying in pan ic— and behold ! there was n o man that pursued ? For the

first tim e in her life , Kate trem bled. N otfor the first tim e ,Kate wept. Far less for the first tim e was it, that Kateben t her kn ee— that Kate clasped her hands— that Kateprayed . But it was the first tim e that she prayed as theypray, for whom no m ore hope is left b ut in prayer.

H ere let m e pause a m om en t, for the sake of m akingsom ebody angry. A Fren chm an

,who sadly m isjudges

Kate,looking ather through a Parisian opera-glass , gives

it as his opin ion— that,because Kate first records her prayer

on this occasion , therefore , n ow first of all she prayed. I

think not so. I love this Kate , bloodstain ed as she is; andI could not love a wom an that n ever ben t her kn ee inthankfulness or in supplication . However

,we have all a

right to our own little opin ion ; and it is notyou,“mon

cher, you Fren chman , that I am angry with

,but som ebody

e lse that stands behind you. You,Fren chman

,and your

compatriots,I love often tim es for your festal gaiety of

heart; and I quarre l on ly w ith your levity, and that e ternal worldlin ess that freezes too fiercely— that absolutelyblisters with its frost

,like the upper air of the Andes.

You speak of Kate on ly as too readily you speak of all

wom en ; the in stin ct of a natural scepticism be ing to scoffatall hidden depths oftruth . E lse you are civil enough toKate ; and your “ homage

”

(such as it may happen to b e) isalways atthe service of a woman on the shorte st notice .

But behind you I se e a worse fellow— a gloomy fanatic, a

re ligious sycophant,that seeks to propitiate his circle by

bittern ess against the offen ces that are m ost unlike his own .

A nd against him , I must say one word for Kate to the too


hasty reader. This villain open s his fire on our Kate undershe lter ofa lie . For there is a standing lie in the very constitution ofcivil society— an ecessity oferror, m isleading usI s to the proportion s of crim e . Mere n ecessity obligesman to create m any acts into fe lon ies

,and to pun ish them

as the heaviest offen ces, which his better sense teaches himsecretly to regard as perhaps am ong the lightest. Thosepoor m utin e ers or deserters

,for instan ce

,were they n eces

sarily without excuse ? They m ight have been oppre ssivelyused ; b ut, in critical tim es ofwar, n o m atter fer the individual palliations

,the mutin e er must b e shot : there is no

help for it : as, in extrem ities of gen eral fam in e,we shoot

the m an (alas ! we are ob liged to Shoot him ) that is foundrobbing the comm on stores

,in order to fe ed his own perish

ing children , though the offen ce is hardly visible in the

sight ofGod. On ly blockheads adjust the ir scale of guiltto the scale of human pun ishm en ts . N ow,

our wickedfriend the fanatic

,who calum n iates Kate

,abuses the advan

tage which,for such a purpose

,he derives from the e x ag

gerated social estimate ofall violence . Personal se curitybe ing so m ain an object of social un ion , we are obliged tofrown upon all m odes ofviolen ce

,as hostile as the cen tral

prin cipal ofthat un ion . W e are obliged to rate it,accord

ing to the un iversal results towards which it tends, andscarcely atall according to the special condition ofcircumstan ces in which it may originate . Hen ce a horror arisesfor that class ofoffen ces

,which is (philosophically speaking)

exaggerated; and by daily use, the e thics ofa police - othe e

translate them se lves, insensibly, in to the e thics even ofre

ligious people . But I tell that sycophantish fanatic— not

this on ly,viz .

,that he abuses unfairly

,against Kate

,the

advan tage which he has from the inevitably distorted bias ofsociety— b ut also I tell him this second little thing, that,

0— 111.

5G THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN .

upon turn ing away the glass from that on e obvious aspectofKate ’s character , her too fiery disposition to vindicateall rights by violen ce , and viewing her in relation to generalreligious capacities

, she was a thousand tim es m ore pro

m isingly endowed than him self. It is impossible to b en oble in m any things, without having m any poin ts ofcontact with true re ligion . If you deny that, you it is thatcalum n iate re ligion . Kate was noble in m any things. H er

w orst errors n ever took a shape of self- in terest or dece it .She was brave

,She was generous, She was forgiving, she bore

n o m alice,She was full of truth— qual ities that God loves

e ither in m an or woman . She hated sycophan ts and dissemb lers . I hate them ; and m ore than ever at this m om en ton her behalf. I wish she were b ut here , to give a pun chon the head to that fe llow who traduces her. A nd

,com ing

round again to the occasion from which this short digressionhas started— viz .

,the question raised by the Fren chm an

,

whe ther Kate w ere a person like ly topray under othe r circum stan ce s than those ofextrem e danger— I offer it as myopin ion , that She was. Violen t people are notalways suchfrom choice, b ut perhaps from S ituation . A nd

,though the

circum stan ces of Kate ’s position allowed her little m ean s

for realising her own wishes,it is certain that those wishes

pointed con tinually to peace and an unworldly happin ess,

if thatwere possible . The stormy clouds that enve lopedher in cam ps, open ed overhead at intervals, Showing her afar- distan t blue serene . She yearn ed, atmany tim es, forthe rest which is not in camps or arm ies; and it is certainthat she ever combined with any plan s or day- dream s oftranquillity, as their m ost essen tial ally

,som e aid derived

from that dove- like religion which,atStSebastian ’s, from

her infant days she had been taught so profoundly to adore.


18.- Kate begins to D escend the M ighty Staircase.

N ow,let us rise from this discussion of Kate again st

libel lers,as Kate herse lf is rising from prayer, and con

sider,in conjun ction with her, the character and prom ise

ofthat dreadful ground which lies imm ediate ly before her.

What is to b e thought ofit ? I could wish we had a theo

dolite here,and a spirit - level

,and other in strum en ts, for

settling som e importan t question s. Yet, n o; on con sideration

,ifon e had a wish allowed by that kind fairy, w ith

outwhose assistan ce it would b e quite im possible to sen deven for the spirit - level

,n obody would throw away the

wish upon things so paltry. I would n otputthe fairy uponsuch an errand : I would order the good creature to bringno spirit- leve l

,but a stiff glass of spirits for Kate ; also,

n ext after which,I would request a palanquin

,and re lays

offifty stout bearers— all drunk,in order that they m ight

not fe e l the cold. The m ain interest at this m om en t,and

the main difficulty— indeed, the Open question ”of the

case— was,to ascertain whether the ascen t were yet ao

complished or n ot; and when would the de scen t com

m en ce ? or had it,perhaps

,long comm en ced ? The cha

racter ofthe ground,in those imm ediate succe ssion s that

could b e conn ected by the eye , decided nothing; for the undulation s ofthe leve l had been so con tinual for m ile s

,as to

perplex any eye, even an engin eer’s, in attempting to judgewhether, upon the whole , the tenden cy were upwards or

downwards . Possibly it was yet n e ither way; it is indeed probable that Kate had be en for som e tim e trave llingalong a series ofterraces that traversed the whole breadthofthe topm ost area at that poin t of crossing the Cordilleras ; and this .area, perhaps, but not certainly

,m ight

compensate any casual tenden cies downwards by corresponding reascents. Then cam e the question

,how long


would these terraces yet con tinue ? and had the ascendingparts really balan ced the descending ? Upon that se em ed

to rest the final chan ce for Kate . Because , un less she very

soon reached a lower leve l and awarm er atm osphere , m ere

wearine ss would obl ige her to lie down , under a fiercene ssofcold that would n ot suffer her to rise after on ce losing

the warm th ofm otion ; or, inverse ly, if she even con tinuedin m otion

,con tinued extrem ity of cold would

,of itself,

speedily absorb the l ittle surplus en ergy for m oving which

yetrem ain ed un exhausted by wearin esss— that is, in short,

the excessive weariness would give a m urderous advantage to the cold, or the excess ive cold would give a corresponding advantage to the wearin ess.

A t this stage ofher progress, and whilst the agon isingquestion se em ed yet as indeterm inate as ever

,Kate ’s

struggle with despair,which had been greatly soothed by

the fervour of he r prayer,revolved upon her in deadlier

blackn ess. Al l turn ed,she saw

,upon a race against tim e

,

and the arrears ofthe road; and she , poor thing ! how littlequalified could she b e

,in such a condition

,for a race ofany

kind— and again st two such obstinate brute s as Tim e and

Space ! This hour ofthe progress,this n oon tide ofKate ’s

struggle, must have be en the very crisis ofthe whole . D e

spair was rapidly tending to ratify itse lf. HOpe , in any

degree , would b e a cordial for sustain ing her efforts. But

to flounder along a dreadful chaos ofsnow - drifts,or snow

chasm s, towards a point of rock which,be ing turn ed,

should expose only another in term inable succession ofthe

sam e character— m ight that b e endured by ebbing spirits,

by stiffen ing limbs, by the ghastly darkness that was nowbeginn ing to gather upon the inn er eye ? A nd, if on ce despair becam e trium phan t

,all the little arr tar ofphysical

strength would collapse at once .


Oh ! verdure ofhuman fie lds,cottages ofm en and wom en

(that now sudden ly,in the eyes ofKate

,se em ed all brothers.

and S isters), cottage s with children around them at pla

that are so far be low— oh ! spring and summ er,blossom s

and flowers,to which

,as to his symbols

,God has given the

gorgeous privilege of rehears ing for ever upon earth hism ost m ysterious perfection— Life

,and the resurre ctions of

Life— is it inde ed true that poor Kate must n ever se e

you m ore ? Mutteringly she put that question to herse lf.But strange are the caprices of eb b and flow in the de epfoun tain s of hum an sen sibilities . At this very m om en t

,

when the utter in capacitation ofdespair was gathering fastatKate ’s heart, a sudden lighten ing

,as it were

,or flashing

inspiration ofhope , shot far into her Spirit, a reflux alm ostsupernatural

,from the earliest effects of her prayer.

D imm ed and confused had been the accuracy of her sen

sation s for hours ; but al l aton ce a strong conviction cam e

over her— that m ore and m ore was the sense of descen tbecom ing steady and con tinuous . Turn ing roun d to m ea

sure backwards with her eye the ground trave rsed throughthe last half- hour

, she iden tified, by a remarkable poin t ofrock, the spot n ear which the three corpse s were lying.

The silen ce seem ed de eper than ever. Ne ither was thereany phantom m em orial of life for the eye or for the ear,

n or wing of bird,nor e cho

,nor green leaf, nor cre eping

thing that m oved or stirred, upon the soundless waste .

Oh,what a re lief to this burden of silence would b e a

human groan ! Here seem ed a m otive for still darkerdespair. A nd yet, at that very m om en t, a pulse of j oybegan to thaw the ice ather heart. It struck her

,as she

reviewed the ground, from that poin t where the corpseslay, that undoubtedly it had been for som e tim e slowlydescending. Her sense s were m uch dulled by suffering ;


b ut this thought it was, suggested by a sudden appre

hen sion of a continued descending m ovem en t, which had

caused her to turn round. Sight had confirm ed the sug

ge stion first derived from her own steps . The distance

attain ed was now suflicientto establish the tenden cy. Oh

ye s, yes ; to a certain ty she was descending— she had been

descending for som e tim e . Frightful was the spasm of

j oy which whispered that the worst was over. It was aswhen the Shadow of m idn ight, that murderers had re liedon

,is passing away from your beleaguered she lter, and

(lawn will soon b e man ifest. It was as when a flood,that

all day long has raved again st the walls ofyour house, ceases

(you sudden ly think) to rise ; yes ! m easured by a goldenplumm e t

,it is sinking beyon d a doubt, and the darlings of

your household are saved. Kate faced round in agitationto her proper direction . She saw,

what previously,in

her stunn ing confusion,she had not seen , that hardly two

ston e - throws in advan ce lay a m ass of rock, split as intoa gateway. Through that open ing it now becam e certainthat the road was lying. Hurrying forward, she passedwithin these natural gates. Gates ofparadise they were .

Ah, what a vista did that gateway expose before her

dazzled eye ! what areve lation ofheaven ly prom ise ! Fulltwo m iles long, stretched a long narrow glen , everywheredescending, and in m any parts rapidly. All was now

placed beyond a doubt. She was descending; for hours,perhaps, had been descending insen sibly, the m ighty staircase . Yes

, Kate is leav mg behind her the kingdom offrostand the victories ofdeath . Two m iles farther

,there m ay

b e rest, if there is not Shelter. A nd very soon,as the

crest of her n ew -born happin ess, she distinguished atthe

other end of that rocky vista 3 pavilion - shaped mass of

dark green foliage— a belt of trees,such as we see in the

56 THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN.

ofa nun,whether destined to open again , or to close for

ever. She saw the interlacing ofboughs overhead form inga dom e

,that seem ed l ike the dom e of a cathedral . She

saw,through the fretwork ofthe foliage , another dom e , far

beyond the dom e of an even ing Sky, the dom e of som e

heaven ly cathedral, not built with hands. She saw upon

this upper dom e the vesper lights, all alive with pathe ticgrandeur of colouring from a sun set that had just been

rolling down like a chorus. She had not, till n ow,

con

sciously observed the tim e ofday ; whether it were m orn

ing, or whether it were afternoon , in the con fusion of her

m isery,she had not distin ctly known . Butn ow she whis

pered to herself,“ I tis evening : and what lurked half un

con sciously in these words m ight b e, “ The sun, that re

joices,has fin ished his daily toil ; man , that labours, has

fin ished his ; I, that sufl'

er, have fin ished m in e .

” Thatm ight b e what she thought

,but what she said was, It is

even ing ; and the hour is com e when the A ngelus is sounding through St Sebastian .

” What m ade her think of St

Sebastian , so far away in depths of Space and tim e ? H er

brain was wandering, n ow that her fe et were not; and, b ecause her eyes had descended from the heaven ly to theearthly dom e

,that made her think of earthly cathedrals,

and of cathedral choirs,and ofStSebastian ’s chapel, with

its s ilvery bells that carried the e choing A ngelas far in tom ountain recesses. Perhaps

,as her wanderings in creased ,

she thought herself back into childhood; becam e pussyon ce again ; fan cied that all sin ce then was afrightful dream ;that she was notupon the dreadful Andes, b ut still kn eeling in the holy chapel atvespers; still innocen t as then ;loved as then She had been loved; and that all m en wereliars, who said her han d was ever stain ed with blood. Littleis m entioned ofthe delusions which possessed her; but that


little gives a k ey to the im pulse which her palpitatingheart obeyed

,and which her ram bling brain for ever repro

duced In m ultiplying m irrors . Restlessness kept her inwaking dream s for a brief half- hour. But then fever anddelirium would wait no longer; the killing exhaustionwould no longer b e refused; the fever, the delirium ,

and

the exhaustion,swept in toge ther with power like an arm y

with bann ers; and the nun ceased through the gatheringtwilight any m ore to watch the cathedrals of earth, or them ore solem n cathedrals that rose in the heaven s above .

19 .- Kate

’s B edroom is I nvaded by Horsemen .

All n ight long she slept in her verdurous St Bernard’shospice without awaking; and whe ther She would ever

awake seem ed to depend upon acciden t. The slum ber thattowered above her brain was like that fluctuating silverycolum n which stands in scien tific tube s

,sinking, rising

,

deepen ing,lighten ing

,contracting

,expanding ; or like the

m ist that sits,through sultry afternoon s, upon the river of

the Am erican St Peter, som etim e s rarefying for m inutesin to sunny gauze

,som etim e s condensing for hours in to

palls of fun eral darkn ess. You fan cy that, after twe lvehours ofany sleep, she must have been refreshed; better, atleast, than she was last n ight. Ah b utSleep is notalwayss en t upon m ission s of refreshm en t. Sleep is som e tim e sthe secre t chambe r in which death arranges his m achin ery,and station s his artillery. Sle ep is som etim e s that de epmysterious atm osphere, in which the human spirit is slowlyun settling its wings for flight from earthly ten em en ts. Itis now e ight o’clock in the m orn ing; and, to all appearance

,if Kate should rece ive no aid before noon , when n ext

the sun is departing to his rest , then , alas ! Kate will b edeparting to hers : when n ext the sun is holding outhis


golden Christian signal to m an , that the hour is com e for

le tting his anger go down , Kate will b e sleeping away for

ever in to the arm s ofbrotherly forgiven ess.

What is wanted just n ow for Kate , supposing Kate her

self to he wanted by this world, is, that this world wouldb e kind enough to send her a little brandy before it is toolate . The sim ple truth was, and a truth wh ich I have knownto take place in m ore ladies than Kate , who died or did notdie

,accordingly as they had or had notan adviser like m y

se lf, capable of giving an opin ion equal to Captain Bun s

b y’

s, on this poin t— vi z .,whether the jewe l ly star of l ife

had de scended too far down the arch towards se tting, for anychance of reascending by spontaneous eflort. The fire was

sti ll burn ing in secret,b utn e eded, perhaps, to b e rekindled

by poten t artificial breath. It lingered,and might linge r,

b utapparently would n ever culm inate again , without som e

stimulus from earthly vin eyards.

"E Kate was e ver lucky,

Though not exactly in the sam e circum stances as Kate, or Sleeping,ala belle etoile, on a declivity of the Andes, I have known (or heard circum stantially reported)the cases ofmany ladies, besides Kate , who werein precisely the sam e critical danger of perishing for want of a littlebrandy.

_A dessert- spoonful or two would have saved them . Avauntl

you w icked T emperance m edal list ! repent as fast as ever you can ,

or, perhaps, the n ext tim e we hear of you, a/nasarca and hydro-thorax

w ill b e runn ing after you, to pun ish your shocking excesses in water.

Seriously, the case is one of constant recurrence,and constantly ending

fatally from unseasonable and pedantic rigour oftemperance . Dr Darwin ,the famous author of Zoonomia,

”The Botan ic Garden , ” &c. , sacri

ficed his life to the very pedantry and superstition of temperance , byrefusing a glass of brandy in obedience to a system

,at a m om ent when

(according to the Opin ion ofall around him) one single glass would havesaved his life. The fact is, that the m edical profession composes them ost generous and liberal body ofm en amongst us ; taken gen erally, bymuch the m ost en lightened; b ut, professionally, the m ost tim id. Want

ofboldness in the adm in istration ofopium, 8m ,

though they can b e boldenough with m ercury, is the ir besetting infirm ity. A nd from this infirm ity females suffer m ost. One instance I n eed hardly m ention , the fatalcase ofan august lady, mourned by nations, with respect towhom it was ,


though ever un fortunate ; and the world, being ofmy Opi

n ion that Kate was worth saving, made up its m ind abouthalf- past e ight o’clock in the m orn ing to save her. Justat that tim e , when the n ight was over, and its sufferingswere hidden— in on e ofthose in term itting gleam s that for

a m om en t or two lighten ed the clouds of her slumberKate ’s dull ear caught a soun d that for years had spoken a

and is, the be liefofmultitudes to this hour (well able to judge), that shewould have been saved by a glass of brandy : and her ch iefm edical attendant

, Sir R . C. who shot him self, cam e to think sotoo late— too late forher, and too late for him self. Am ongst many cases of the sam e nature,which personally I have been acquainted w ith , thirty years ago, a manillustrious for his intellectual accomplishm ents* m entioned to m e thathis own w ife

,during her first or second confinem ent, was sudden ly re

ported to him,by one ofher female attendan ts (who Slipped away unob

served by the m edical people), as undoubtedly Sinking fast. He hurriedto her chamber, and saw that it was so. On this, he suggested earnestlysom e stimulant— laudanum or alcohol . The presiding m edical authority ,however, was inexorable . Oh, by no m ean s,

”shaking his am brosial

wig ; any stimulant at this crisis would b e fatal .” But no authoritycould overrul e the concurrent testim ony of all sym ptom s, and ofall unprofessional opin ion s. By som e pious falsehood, my friend smuggled thedoctor out ofthe room , and imm ediately smuggled a glass ofbrandy intothe poor lady’s lips. She recovered as ifunder the imm ediate afllatus ofmagic ; so sudden was her recovery, and so complete. The doctor is nowdead

, and went to his grave under the delusive persuasion— that notanyvile glass of brandy, b utthe stern refusal of all brandy, was the thingthat saved his collapsing patient. The patient herself, who m ight naturally know som ething of the matter, was ofa different opinion . She

Sided w ith the factious body around her b ed (comprehending all , besidethe doctor), who felt sure that death was rapidly approaching, barringthat brandy . The sam e resul t

, in the sam e appalling crisis, I have kn ownrepeatedly produced by twenty-five drops of laudanum . Many will say,Oh, n ever listen to a non -m edical man like this writer. Consult in

such a case your m edical adviser.

”You will, wi ll you ? Then letm e

te ll you, that you are m issing the very logic ofall I have been saying forthe improvem ent of blockheads

,which is— that you Should con sul t any

man butam edical man , Since no other man has any obstinate prejudiceofprofessional tim idity.

On second thoughts, I see no reason for scrupling to m ention thatthis man was RobertSouthey.


fam iliar language to her. What was it ? It was the sound,though m uffled and deadened, like the ear that heard it,of horsem en advan cing. Interpreted b y the tum ultuous

dream s ofKate , was it the cavalry ofSpain , atwhose headso often She had charged the bloody Indian scalpers ? Was

it,according to the legend ofan cien t days, cavalry that had

been sown by her brother’s blood— cavalry that rose fromthe ground on an inquest of re tribution

,and were racing

up the Andes to seize her ? H er dream s,that had open ed

sul len ly to the sound, waited for n o an swer,b ut closed

again in to pom pous darkn ess . Happily,the horsem en had

caught the glim pse of som e bright ornam en t,clasp, or

aigui l l e tte , on Kate’

s dress . They were hun ters and fore stersfrom be low— servan ts in the household ofa b en eficentlady;and

,in pursuit of som e flying gam e

,had wandered far he

yond the ir ordinary lim its . Struck by the sudden scintillation from Kate ’s dress played upon by the m orn ing sun

,they

rode up to the thicke t. Great was the ir surprise,great

the ir p ity,to see ayoung oflicer in un iform stre tched within

the bushe s upon the ground,and apparen tly dying. Bor

d erers from childhood on this dreadful frontier,sacred to

winter and death, they understood the case at on ce . Theydism ounted, and, with the tendern ess ofwom en

,raising the

poor frozen corn et in the ir arm s,washed her temples with

brandy, whilst on e, at intervals, suffered a few drops totrickle within her lips. As the restoration ofawarm b edwasn ow m ost likely to b e the on e thing needed

,they lifted the

he lpless stranger upon a horse,walking on each side with

supporting arm s. On ce again ourKate is in the saddle , on ceagain aSpan ish caballero. But Kate ’s bridle -hand is deadlycold. A nd her spurs

,that She had never unfasten ed sin ce

leaving the m onastic asylum,hung as idle as the flapping sail

that fills unsteadily with the breeze upon a stranded ship.


This procession had many m iles to go, and over difficult

ground ; b utat length it reached the forest - like park andthe chateau of the wealthy proprietress. Kate was stillhalf- frozen and speechless, except at intervals. H eaven s !can this corpse - like , languishing young wom an he the Katethat on ce , in her radian t girlhood

,rode with a handful of

com rade s in to a colum n oftwo thousan d en em ies, that sawher com rades die , that persisted when all were dead

,that

tore from the heart of all resistan ce the ban n er of he r

native Spain ? Chan ce and change have “written strangedefeature s in her face .

” Much is changed; b utsom e thingsare not changed, e ither in herse lf or in those about her :there is still kindn ess that overflows with pity : there is stil lhelplessn ess that asks for this pity without a voice : She isn ow re ce ived by a senor

,n ot le ss kind than that m aternal

aun t who, on the n ight ofher birth,first we lcom ed her to a

loving hom e ; and she,the heroin e of Spain

,is herse lf as

helpless now as that little lady, who, then atten m inute s

ofage , was kissed and blessed by all the household of St

Sebastian .

20.— A Second Lull in Kate

’s Stormy Life.

Letus suppose Kate placed in awarm b ed. Letus suppose her in a few hours recovering steady con sciousn ess ;in a few days re covering som e power of se lf- support ; in a

fortn ight able to se ek the gay saloon , where the sen orawas Sitting alon e , and able to render thanks, with that deepsin cerity which ever characterised our wild- hearted Kate ,for the critical service s rece ived from that lady and here stablishm en t.This lady awidow, was what the French call ametis'se,

the Span iards amestiz za— that is, the daughter ofagenuin e

Span iard, and an Indian mother. I will call her simply a

62 THE SPANISH MIL ITARY N UN .

Creole,’ which will indicate her wan t Of pure Span ish blood

sufficiently to explain her deferen ce for those who had it .

She was a kind, liberal woman ; rich rather m ore than

n e eded where there were no opera- boxes to ren t; a widow

about fifty years old in the w icked world’

s accoun t, som e

forty - two in her own ; and happy, above all, in the posse s

s ion of a m ost love ly daughter, whom even the wickedworld did not accuse Of m ore than Sixte en years . Thisdaughter

,Juana

,was But stop— let her Open the

door ofthe saloon in which the senora and the com e t are

conve rsing, and speak for herself. She did so, after an

hour had passed; which length of tim e , to her that n eve r

had any busin ess whatever in her innocen t life , se em ed suf

ficientto settle the busin e ss ofthe Old World and the N ew .

Had Pietro D iaz (as Catalinanow called herself) been reallya Peter

,and n ota sham Peter

,what a vision of lovelin ess

would have rushed upon his sen sibilities as the door open ed.

D o notexpect m e to describe her,for which, however, there

are m aterials extan t,sle eping in archives

,where they have

slept for two hundred and twenty- e ight years. It is en oughthat she is reported to have un ited the state ly tread of

Creole: — Atthat tim e the infusion of negro or African blood wassmall . Consequently, none ofthe negro hideousn ess was diffused . Afterthese intercomplex ities had arisen between all complications and interweavings of descent from three original strands— European , Am erican ,African— the distinctions of social consideration founded on them brednam es so many, that a court calendar was necessary to keep you fromblundering. A S yet (i. e. , in Kate ’s tim e), the varieties were few . Mean

tim e, the word Creole has always been m isapplied in our English colon iestoaperson (though Ofstrictly European blood), Simply ifborn in the W estIndies. In this English use , the word Creole ex presses exactly the sam edifference as the Romans indicated by Hispanas and Hispanicus . The

first m eant a. person of Spanish blood, a native of Spain ; the second, aRoman born in Spain . 80 of Gam amts and Gam anicus, I talas and

I tal iczw, A ngbas and A nglicus, &c .; an important distmction , on whichsee Isaac Casaub en apud Sm

‘iptores Hist. Augusta».


wished to b e by this innocen t child. Juana form ed a brieflull for Catal ina in her too stormy existen ce. A nd if for

her in this l ife the swe et reality of a sister had been pos

s ible,here was the sister she would have chosen . On the

other hand, what m ight Juana think of the corn e t ? T O

have be en thrown upon the kind hospitalitie s Of her native

hom e,to have been rescued by her m other’s se rvan ts from

that fearful death which, lying b utafew m iles Off, had filledher nursery with traditionary tragedies— thatwas sufficien tto create an in terest in the stranger. Such things it hadbeen that wooed the heaven ly D efdem ona. But his boldm artial dem eanour

,his yet youthful style Of beauty, his

frank m ann ers,his an imated conversation , that reported a

hundred con tests with suffering and peril, waken ed for thefirst tim e her adm iration . M en She had n ever seen before

,

except m en ial servan ts,or a casual priest. But here was a

gen tleman,young l ike herse lf, asplendid cavalier, that rode

in the cavalry ofSpain ; that carried the bann er Ofthe on lypotentate whom Peruvian s kn ew Of— the King ofthe Spain sand the Indies ; that had doubled Cape Horn ; that hadcrossed the Andes ; that had suffered shipwreck ; that hadrocked upon fifty storm s; and had wrestled for life throughfifty battles .

The reader already guesses all that followed. The

sisterly love which Catalina did really fe e l for this youngmountain eer was in evitably m iscon strued. Embarrassed,but n ot able

,from sin cere affection , or alm ost in bare

propriety, to refuse such expressions Of fe eling as correspOnded to the artless and involuntary kindnesses of theingenuous Juana, one day the cornet was surprised bymamma in the act of encircling her daughter’s waist withhis martial arm ,

although Waltzing was premature by at

least two centuries in Peru. She tax ed him instan tly with


dishonourably abusing her confidence. The cornet m adebut a b ad defen ce . He m uttered som ething about “fra

ternal afiection ,”about esteem ,

”and a great deal ofm eta

physical words that are de stin ed to remain un tran slated inthe ir original Span ish . The good senora, though She couldboast on ly offorty-two years’ experien ce , or say forty- four,was not altogether to b e “ had

”in that fashion : she was

as learn ed as if she had be en fifty,and she brought m at

ters to a Spe edy crisis . You are a Span iard, She said , a

gen tleman,therefore ; remember that you are a gen tl eman .

This very n ight, if your in tention s are n ot serious, quit myhouse . GO to Tucuman ; you shall command m y horses

and servan ts ; but stay n o longer to increase the sorrowthat already you will have left behind you. My daughterlove s you. That is sorrow en ough

,ifyou are trifling with

us . But,if not

,and you also love her

,and can b e happy

in our solitary m ode of l ife,stay with us— stay for ever.

Marry Juana with m y free con sen t. I ask notfor weal th.

M in e is sufficien t for you both .

”The corn e t protested

that the honour was on e n ever con tem plated by him— thatit was too great— that But

,Of course, reader, you

know that “ gamm on flourishes in Peru, am ongst theS ilver m in e s

,as we l l as in som e m ore boreal lands

,that

produce l ittle better than copper and tin . T in,

”how

ever,has its use s. The de lighted senora overruled all

Obj ection s,great and sm al l ; and She confirm ed Juana’s

n otion that the busin ess Of two worlds could b e tran sactedin an hour

,by settl ing her daughter’s future happm ess in

exactly twenty m inute s. The poor,weak Catalina

,n ot

acting now in any spirit Of recklessn ess,grieving sin cerely

for the gulf that was open ing before her, and yetShrink ineffem inatelg

r from the m om entary Shock that would b e inflicted by a firm adherence to her duty, clinging to the

c 2


anodyn e ofa Short delay, allowed herself to b e in stalled as

the lover Of Juana. Con sideration s Of conven ience, however, postpon ed the marriage . It was requisite to m akevarious purchases ; and for this, it was requisite to visitTucuman

,where also the marriage cerem ony could b e per

form ed with m ore circum stantial Splendour. T o Tucum an ,therefore , after som e we eks’ interval, the whole party re

paired. A nd atTucuman itwas that the tragical even tsarose ,which

,whilst interrupting such am ockery for ever, left the

poor Juana still happily de ce ived,and n ever bel ieving for

a m om ent that hers was a rej e cted or a de luded heart .On e reporter of M r D e Ferrer’s narrative forgets his

usual gen erosity when he says,that the senora’s gift Ofher

daughter to the Alferez was n ot quite SO di sinterested asit se em ed to b e . Certain ly it was not SO disin terested asEuropean ignoran ce m ight fan cy it : b ut it was quite asmuch SO as it ought to have been

,in balan cing the in te

rests Of a child. Very true it is,that, be ing a genuin e

Span iard, who was still a rare creature in so vast a worldas Peru— be ing a Spartan am ongst H e lots— a Span ishAlfe

’

rez would, in those days, and in that region , have beena natural noble . H is alliance created honour for his wifeand for his descendants . Som ething, therefore , the com etwould add to the fam ily con sideration . But

,instead of

selfishn ess, it argued justregard for her daughter’s in te

rest to build upon this, as som e sort of equipoise to thewealth which her daughter would bring.

Span iard, however, as she was, our Alferez, on reachingTucuman , found no Spaniards to m ix with

,but instead,

twelve Portuguese.

2 1 .— Kate once more in Storms.

Catal ina remembered the Span ish proverb, Pump out


of a Span iard all his good qualities, and the remainderm akes a pre tty fair Portuguese but as there was nobody

e lse to gam ble with, she en tered free ly into the ir socie ty.

Soon she suspected that there was foul play : for all m ode s

of doctoring dice had been m ade fam iliar to her by theexperien ce ofcam ps . She watched; and, by the tim e She

had lost her final coin,she was satisfied that she had be en

plundered . I n her first anger, she would have been gladto switch the whole dozen across the eye s ; b ut as twe lveto on e were too great odds , she determ in ed on lim itingher vengean ce to the imm ediate culprit. Him she fol

lowed in to the stre et; and com ing n ear enough to distinguish his profile reflected on a wall

,she con tinued to

keep him in view from a short distan ce . The lightheartedyoung cavalier whistled, as he wen t, an Old Portugue seballad ofrom an ce

,and in a quarter- Of- an - hour cam e up to

a house , the fron t - door Of which he began to open with apass - k ey. This operation was the signal for Catalina thatthe hour Of vengean ce had struck; and stepping up hastily, she tapped the Portuguese on the shoulder

,saying

,

Senor, you are a robber !

”The Portuguese turn ed cool ly

round, and see ing his gam ing an tagon ist,replied, “ Pos

sib ly, sir ; b ut I have n o particular fan cy for be ing toldso,

”at the sam e tim e drawing his sword. Catalina had

not design ed to take any advan tage ; and the touching himon the shoulder, with the interchange Ofspe eches

,and the

known character of Kate, sufliciently im p ly it. But it is

too probable , in such cases,that the party whose intention

had be en regularly settled from the first,will

,and m ust,

have an advan tage uncon sciously over a man so abruptlythrown on his defence. However this m ight be

,they had

not fought 3. m inute before Catalina passed her swordthrough her opponent’s body; and, without a groan or a


sigh, the Portuguese cavalier fell dead at his own door.

Kate searched the street with her ears, and (as far as the

in distinctness of n ight al lowed) w ith her eyes . Al l wasprofoundly silent; and She was satisfied that n o human

figure was in m otion . What should b e don e w ith the

body ? A glan ce at the door of the house settled that:

Fernando had him self Open ed it atthe very m om en t whenhe rece ived the summ ons to turn round . She dragged thecorpse in , therefore, to the foot Of the staircase , put the

k ey by the dead man’

s side, and then issuing softly intothe stree t, drew the door close w ith as little n oise as pos

S ible . Catalina again paused to listen and to watch, wen thom e to the hospitable senora’s house , re tired to b ed, fe llasle ep

,and early the n ext m orn ing was awaken ed by the

corregidor and four alguazils.

The lawlessn ess Of all that followed strikingly exposesthe frightful state Of crim inal justice at that tim e

,wher

ever Span ish law prevailed. NO eviden ce appeared toconn ect Catalina in any way with the death Of FernandoAcosta. The Portuguese gamblers

,beside s that perhaps

they thought lightly Of such an acciden t,m ight have rea

son s of the ir own for drawing off public attention fromthe ir pursuits in Tucum an . Not on e Of these m en cam e

forward open ly, else the circum stan ces atthe gam ing- table ,and the departure Of Catalina so close ly on the he e ls Ofher oppon en t

,would have suggested reasonable grounds

for de tain ing her until som e further light should b e Ob

tain ed. A s it was, her imprisonm en t rested upon n o

colourable ground whatever, un less the magistrate hadrece ived som e anonym ous inform ation

,which

,howeve r,

he n ever alleged. On e com fort there was, m eantim e, in

Span ish injustice : it did not loiter . Full gallop it wen tover the ground : one week often sufficed for information s

THE SPAN ISH MILITARY NUN . 69

-fOr trial— for execution ; and the only b ad con sequencewas

,that a second or a third week som etim es exposed the

disagreeable fact that everything had be en prem aturea solem n sacrifice had been m ade to offended justice , inwhich all was right except as to the victim ; it was thewrong man ; and thatgave extra trouble ; for then al l was

to do over again— another man to be executed, and, possib ly, still to b e caught.Justice m oved ather usual Span ish rate in the presen t

case . Kate was obliged to rise instantly; not suffered tospeak to anybody in the house

,though

,in going out

,a

door opened , and She saw the young Juana looking out

with her saddest Indian expression . I n on e day the trialwas fin ished. Catal ina said (which was true) that she

hardly kn ew Acosta; and that people of her rank wereused to attack the ir en em ies face to face , n ot by m ur

derous surprises. The m agistrates were im pre ssed withCatalina’s an swers (yet an swers to what, or to whom,

in a

case where there was no distin ct charge,and no avowe d

accuser ?) Things were beginn ing to look w ell, when all

was sudden ly upse t by two witn esses, whom the reader

(who is a sort of accom plice after the fact,having been

privately let in to the truths Of the ease,and having con

c ealed his knowledge) will know at on ce to b e false witn esses, b utwhom the Old Span ish b uz wigs doated on as

m odels of all that could be looked for in the best . Bothwere ill - looking fellows, as it was the ir duty to be. A nd

the first deposed as follows z— That through his quarter Of

Tucum an,the fact was n otorious of Acosta’s wife be ing

the Object ofa crim inal pursuit on the part ofthe Alferez

(Catalina); that, doubtless, the injured husband had surJ

prised the prison er, which, of course, had led to the m urde r— to the staircase— to the k ey— to everything, in short,


that could he wished. NO - stop ! what am I sayingto everything that ought to b e abom inated. Final ly— forhe had now settled the main question— that he had a

friend who would take up the case where he him self, from

shortsightedn ess,was obliged to lay it down . This friend

- the Pythias of this shortsighted Dam on— started up ina frenzy of virtue at this summ on s

,and

,rushing to the

fron t of the alguazils,said

,

“ That sin ce his frien d hadproved sufficiently the fact of the Alferez having be enlurking in the house

,and having murdered aman , all that

rested upon him to Show was, how that murderer got outOfthat house ; which he could do satisfactorily; for therewas a balcony runn ing along the windows on the secondfloor

,on e Of which windows he him se lf

,lurking in a cor

n er ofthe stre et,saw the Alferez throw up, and from the

said balcony take a flying leap in to the said street.” Evi

dence like this was con clusive ; no defen ce was l isten ed to,nor inde ed had the prisoner any to produce . The Alferezcould deny n e ither the staircase nor the balcony : thestree t is there to this day, l ike the bricks in Jack Cade

’

s

chimn ey, testifying all that m ay b e required; and as to

our friend who saw the leap,there he was— n obody could

deny him. The prison er m ight indeed have suggested thatshe n ever heard Of Acosta’s wife

,nor had the existen ce of

such a w ife been proved, or even ripen ed into a suspicion .

But the ben ch were satisfied; chopping logic in defen ce washen ceforward impertin en ce ; and sen tence was pronoun ced

-that, on the e ighth day from the day ofarrest, the Alfere z should b e executed in the public square .

It was not am ongst the weakn esses Of Catal ina— whohad so often inflicted death

, and, by her own journal,

thought so lightly of infl icting it (un less under cowardlyadvantages)— to shrink from facing death in her own per

72 T HE SPANISH MILITARY NUN .

A S the sun was setting upon the seventh day, when thehours were numbered for the prison er, there filed into hercell four person s in religious habits. They cam e on the

charitable m ission Ofpreparing the poor convict for death .

Catalina,however

,watching all things narrowly, rem arked

som e thing earn est and sign ificant in the eye ofthe leader,

as of on e who had som e se cre t comm un ication to m ake .

She con trived, therefore , to clasp this m an’s hands

,as if in

the energy of internal struggles, and he con trived to Slipinto hers the very sm allest Ofbillets from poor Juana. Itcon tain ed, for inde ed it could contain , on ly these threewords Do not confess — J. This on e caution ,

so S im pleand so brief

,proved a talisman . It did not refer to any

confession of the crim e ; that would have be en assum ingwhat Juana was n e ither entitled nor disposed to assum e ;

b ut it referred,in the techn ical sen se Ofthe church, to the

act Ofdevotional con fession . Catalina found a single m o

m en t for a glan ce at it; understood the whole ; resolutelyrefused to confess, as a person un settled in her religiousOpin ion s, that n eeded Spiritual in struction s ; and the fourm onks withdrew to make the ir report . The prin cipaljudge, upon hearing Of the prison er

’

s im pen itence , gran tedanother day. At the end of that

,no change having oc

curred e ither in the prison er’s m ind or in the circum stan ces ,he issued his warrant for the exe cution . Accordingly, asthe sun wen t down

,the sad procession form ed within the

prison . In to the great square Of Tucuman it m oved,where the scafl

’

old had be en built,and the whole city had

assembled for the spe ctacle . Qatalina steadily ascendedthe ladder Ofthe scaffold ; even then she resolved not to

ben efit by revealing her se x ; even then it was that Sheexpre ssed her scorn for the lubberly executioner’s m odeoftying a knot; did it herself in a ship - shape

,

”orthodox


mann e r; re ce ived in return the enthusiastic plaudits ofthecrowd, and so far ran the risk of precipitating her fate ;for the tim id m agistrates, fearing a re scue from the fieryc lam ours of the im petuous m ob , angrily ordered the e x e

cution er to fin ish the scen e . The clatter of a gal lopinghorse

,however

,at this in stan t forced them to pause . The

crowd open ed a road for the agitated horseman,who was

the bearer of an order from the Pre siden t of La Plata tosuspend the exe cution un til two prison ers could b e e x a

m in ed. The whole was the work of the senora and he r

daughter. The e lder lady,having gathered information s

again st the witn e sses, had pursued them to La Plata.

There,by her influen ce with the governor

,they were ar

re sted, re cogn ised as Old m alefactors,and in the ir terror

had partly confessed the ir perjury. Catalinawas rem ovedto La Plata; solem n ly acquitted; and, by the advice ofthepres iden t, for the presen t the conn ection with the senora

’sfam ily was indefin itely postpon ed.

22 .—Kate

’s P enultimate A dventure

N ow was the last - b uton e adven ture at han d that eve rCatalina should see in the N ew World . Som e fin e sightsshe m ay yet see in Europe

, b ut nothing after this (whichshe has recorded) in Am erica. Europe

,if it had ever heard

Of her nam e (as very shortly it shall hear), Kings, Pope ,Cardinals

,if they were b ut aware Ofher existence (wh ich

in six m on ths they shall he), would thirst for an introduction to our Catal ina. You hardly thought n ow

,reader

,

that she was such a great person,or anybody’s pet b ut

yours and m in e . Bl ess you, sir, she would scorn to lookatas. I tell you, that Em in en ces, Exce llen cies, Highn esse s

- nay, even'

Royalties and Hol in es se s— are languishing tosee her

,or soon will b e. Buthow can this com e to pass,

13-4 1»

74 TH E SPANISH M ILITARY N UN .

if she is to con tinue in her pre sen t obscurity ? Certainlyit cannot without som e great peripetteia, or vertiginouswhirl of fortun e ; which, therefore , you Shall now beholdtaking place in on e turn Ofher n ext adven ture . Thatshalllet in a light

,that shall throw back a Claude Lorrain e

gleam over all the past, able to make kings, that wouldhave cared n otfor her under Peruvian daylight, com e to

glorify her setting beam s.The senora— and

,observe; whatever kindn ess She does

to Catalina speaks secretly from two hearts,her own and

Juana’s— had, by the advice of Mr Pre siden t M endonia,

given sufficien t m on ey for Catalina’s travelling expen ses.

SO far we ll. But Mr M chose to add a l ittle codicil tothis bequest of the senora

’

s,n ever suggested by her or by

her daughter. Pray,

” said this inquis itive pre siden t,who

sure ly m ight have found busin ess enough within his own

n e ighbourhood pray, Senor Pietro D iaz, did you ever

l ive at Con ception ? A nd were you ever acquain ted therewith Senor Migue l de Erauso ? That man

,Sir

,was m y

friend.

” What a pity that on this occasion Catalina couldn otven ture to b e candid ! What a capital speech it wouldhave m ade to say,

“Friend were you ? I think you couldhardly b e that

, with seven hundred m iles betwe en you.

But that m an was my friend also; and,secondly, m y

brother. True it is I kil led him . But if you happen toknow that this was by pure m istake in the dark

,what an

Old rogue you must b e to throw thatin m y te eth, which isthe afll iction of m y life !

” Again,however

,as SO Often in

the sam e c ircum stan ces,Catalina thought that it would

cause m ore ruin than it could heal to b e candid; and, inde ed, if she were really P . D iaz

,E

'

sq.,how cam e She to b e

brother to the late Mr Erauso ? On consideration , also, ifshe could not tell all, m ere ly to have professed a fraternal


connection which n ever was avowed by e ither whilst livingtoge ther

,would

’

not have brighten ed the reputation of

Catalina. Still,from a kindn ess for poor Kate , I fe e l un

charitably towards the presiden t for advising Senor Pietroto trave l for his health.

” What had he to do with people ’shealth ? However

,Mr Peter

,as he had pocketed the se

n ora’s m on ey

,thought it right to pocket also the advice that

accom pan ied its paym en t. That he m ight b e in a condition to do so

,he wen t offto b uy a horse . On that errand,

in all lands,for som e reason con ly half explain ed, you m ust

b e in luck if you do not fall in,and even tually fall out

,

with a knave . But on this particular day Kate was in luck .

For,beside m on ey and advice

,she '

ob tain ed ata low rate ahorse both beautiful and serviceable for a journ ey. To Paz

it was,a city Of prosperous nam e

,that the com et first

m oved. But Paz did not fulfil the prom ise of its nam e .

For it laid the grounds of a feud that drove our Kate outofAm erica.

H er first‘ adventure was a bagatelle,and fitter for a

jest- book than for a serious history; yet it proved no j este ither, s in ce it led to the tragedy that followed. Ridingin to Paz

,our gallan t standard- bearer and her bonny black

horse drew all eyes,comme dc raison

,upon the ir separate

charm s. This was in evitable am ongst the indolen t population ofa Span ish town ; and Kate was used to it. But,

having recently had a little tOO much Of the public attention

, she fe lt n ervous on rem arking two soldiers eye ing thehandsom e horse and the handsom e rider

,with an atten tion

that seem ed too earn est for m ere aesthetics. However,Kate

was not the kind Of person to let anything dwe ll on herspirits, e spec ially if it took the Shape of im puden ce ; and,whistling gaily

,She was riding forward, when— who Should

cross her path but the Alcalde ofPaz ! Ah alcalde, you

7 6 TH E SPANISH MILITARY NUN .

s e e a person n ow that has a m ission again st you and all

that you inherit ; though am ission k nown'

to herse lf as l ittle

as to you. Good w e re it for you, had you n ever crossed

the path of this Biscayan Alfere z . The alcalde looked so

stern ly,that Kate asked ifhis worship had any comm ands .

Yes .The se m en

,

”said the alcalde , the se two soldiers,

say that this horse is stolen .

”To on e who had so nar

rowly and so late ly escaped the balcony witn ess and his

friend,it was real ly n o laughing m atter to hear of n ew

affidavits in preparation . Kate was n ervous,b ut n ever

disconcerted . I n a m om en t she had twitched Offa saddlecloth on which she sat; and throw ing it ove r the horse ’shead , SO as to cove r upall between the ears and the m outh,she replied, That she had bought and paid for the hors eat La Plata. But n ow,

your worship, if this horse hasreal ly been stolen from these m en

,they m ust kn ow well of

which eye it is blind; for it can b e on ly in the right eye or

the left. On e ofthe soldiers cried outin stan tly that it wasthe left eye ; b ut the other said

,N0

,no; you forge t, it

’

s

the right.” Kate m aliciously called atten tion to thisl ittle schism . But the m en said

,Ah

,that was n othing

-they were hurried ; b ut n ow,on recol le cting them

se lves, they were agre ed that it was the left eye . Did

they stand to that ? ” Oh yes, positive they were— lefteye

— left .Upon which our Kate

,twitching Off the horse - cloth

,said

gaily to the magistrate,NOW

,Sir

,please to Observe that

this horse has n othing the m atter with e ither eye .

”A nd

,

in fact, it was so . Upon that,his worship ordered his

alguazils to apprehend the two witn esse s, who posted Ofl

to bread and water,with other reversionary advan tages ;

whi lst Kate rode in quest ofthe best dinn er that Paz couldfurn ish.

T H E SPAN I SH M ILITARY N UN .

23.—P reparationfor Kate

’

s Final A dventure in P eru.

This alcalde ’s acquain tan ce , howeve r, was n ot destin edto drop he re . Som e thing had appeared in the young

caballe ro’s bearing which m ade it painful to have addressedhim w ith harshn e ss

,or for a m om en t to have en tertain ed

such a charge again st such a person . H e de spatched hiscousin

,there fore

,D on An ton io Calderon

,to Offer his apo

~

logie s ; and atthe sam e tim e to’

request that’

the strange r,whose rank and quality he regre tted n otto have known ,would do him the honour to com e and din e with him . Thisexplanation

,and the fact that D on An ton io had already

proclaim ed his own position as cousin to the m agistrate ,

and n ephew to the Bishop of Cuzco,obliged Catalina to

say, after thanking the gen tlem en for the ir Ob l iging attent ion s

,

“ I myse lfhold the rank ofAlfere z in the service of

his Cathol ic Maj esty. I am a native of Biscay,and I am

n ow repairing to Cuzco on private busin e ss .

”

To Cuzcoe xclaim ed An ton io; “

and you from dear love ly Biseay !How ve ry fortunate ! My cousin is a Basque like you;and

,l ike you, he starts for Cuzco to -m orrow m orn ing ; SO

that,if it is agre eab le to you,

Senor Alfere z,we w il l trave l

toge ther.

” It was se ttled that they Should . T O trave lam ongst “ balcony witn e sse s

,

”and anglers for blind

horses — n ot m erely w ith a just m an,b utw ith the very

abstract idea and riding allegory Of justice,was we de

lightful to the storm -wearied corn e t ; and he che e rfullyaccom pan ied D on An ton io to the house ofthe m agistrate ,called D on Pedro de Chavarria. D ist inguished was hisreception ; the alcalde personal ly re newed his regrets forthe ridiculous scen e Of the two scampish oculists

,and pre

sen ted Kate. to his wife— a m ost Splendid Andalusianbeauty, to whom he had be en married about a year.

This lady there is a reason for describing ; and the Fren ch


reporter ofCatalina’s m em oirs dwells upon the them e . She

un ited,he says

,the swe etn ess ofthe German lady w ith the

e n ergy of the Arabian— a combination hard to judge of.

A s to her fe et he adds, I say nothing, for she had scarce lyany at all Je ne parle point de ses pieds, ella n

’

en avait

presguepas . Poor lady says a com passionate rustic : “nofe et ! What a shocking thing that so fin e a woman Shouldhave been SO Sadly mutilated ! ” Oh

,m y dear rustic, you

’

re

quite in the wrong b ox . The Frenchman m ean s this as theveryhighest com pl im en t . Beautiful,however, she must havebeen ; and aCinderel la, I hOpe, but still notaCinderellula,considering that she had the in im itable walk and step of

Andalusian wom en,which cannot b e accom plished without

som e thing ofa proportionate basis to stan d upon .

The reason which there is (as I have said)for describingthis lady, arises out of her re lation to the tragic even tswhich followed. She , by her crim inal levity, was the causeofall. A nd I must here warn the m oralising blunderer of

two errors that he is like ly to m ake : 1st, that he is invitedto read som e extractfrom a licen tious am our

,as if for its

own interest; 2dly, or on accoun t ofD onna Catalina’s m e

m oirs, with a view to relieve the ir too m artial character .

I have the pleasure to assure him ofhis being SO utterly inthe darkn ess oferror

,that any possible change he can m ake

in his Opin ions, right or left, m ust b e for the better : hecannot stir, b uthe will m end

,which is a delightful thought

for the m oral and blundering m ind . A S to the first poin t,what little glimpse he Obtain s Of a l icentious am our is, as

a court Ofjustice will som e tim es Show him such a glim pse ,s imply to make intelligible the subsequen t facts which depend upon it. Secondly

,as to the con ce it that Catalina

wished to embellish her m em oirs,understand that no such

practice then existed— certain ly n ot in Span ish literature .

80 THE SPANISH MILIT ARY NUN .

as his man sion , and his mansion n ot much less so than

him se lf.After din ing gaily toge ther atthe locanda, and possibly

tak ing a“rise out of his worship the corregidor, as a

repeating e cho of D on Quixote (the n growing popular In

Span ish Am erica), the young m an D on An ton io, who wasn o young officer, and the young oflicer Catalina, who was

n o young m an , lounged down together to the little pavil ion in the flower- garden

,with the purpose ofpaying the ir

respects to the presiding belle . They w ere grac iously re

ceived, and had the hon our ofm eeting the re his m ustin e ssthe alcalde , and his fustin ess the corregidor; whose con

versation ought surely to have be en edifying,Sin ce it was

anything b utbril l ian t. How they goton under the we ightoftwo such muffs

,has be en a m ystery for two cen turie s .

But they did to a certain ty, for the party did notbreak upt ill e leven . Tea and turn out you could n ot call it; forthere was the turn - outin rigour

,b utn otthe tea. On e thing

,

however,Catalina by m ere acciden t had an opportun ity of

observing, and observed with pain . The two Official gen tlem en

,on taking leave

,had gon e down the steps in to the

garden . Catal ina,having forgot her hat

,wen t back in to

the little vestibule to look for it. There stood the lady andDon An ton io

,exchanging afew final words (they were final)

and afew final sign s . Am ongst the last Kate Observed distin ctly this, and distinctly she understood it. First ofall.by raising her forefinger

,the lady drew Calderon ’s atten tion

to the actwhich fol lowed as on e ofSign ifican t pan tom im e ;which don e, she snuffed outon e ofthe candles . The youngm an an swered it by a look Ofinte lligen ce ; and then al l thre epassed down the steps together. The lady was disposed totake the cool air

,and accom pan ied them to the garden -gate ;

but, in passing down the walk, Catalina n oticed a second

TH E SPANISH M ILIT ARY N UN . 81

ill~ om en ed Sign that all was n ot right. Two glaring eye sShe distinguished am ongst the shrubs for a m om en t

,and a

rustl ing imm ediate ly after. What’s that ? ” said the lady ;and D on An ton io an swered, care le ssly, A bird flying out

of the bushes .

”But birds do n ot am use them se lve s by

staying upto m idn ight ; and birds do notwear rapiers.Catalina

,as usual

,had read everything. N ota wrinkle

or a rustle was lost upon her. A nd,therefore

,when she

reached the locanda,knowing to an iotaall that was com ing

,

she d id n ot re tire to b ed,b utpaced before the house . She

had n ot long to wait : in fifteen m inute s the door openedsoftly

,and out stepped Calderon . Kate walked forward

,

and faced him imm ediate ly; telling him laughingly that itwas not good for his health to go abroad on this n ight.The young m an showed som e im patien ce ; upon which , ve rys e riously

,Kate acquain ted him with he r suspicious, and with

the certain ty that the alcalde was not SO blind as he hadse em ed . Calderon thanked her for the information ; wouldb e upon his guard; b ut, to preven t further expostulation

,

he whe eled roun d instan tly in to the darkn ess. Catalinawas too w e l l convin ced

,however

,Ofthe m ischief on foot to

leave him thus . She follow ed rapidly,and passed silen tly

in to the garden,alm ost at the sam e tim e w ith Calderon .

Both took the ir station s behind tre e s ; Calderon watchingnothing b ut the burn ing candles, Catalina watching cir

cum stan ce s to dire ct her m ovem en ts . The candle s burn edbrightly in the little pavil ion . Presen tly on e was e x tin

guished. Upon this,Calderon pre ssed forward to the

steps,hastily ascended them ,

and passed in to the vestibule .

Catalina. followed on his traces . What succe eded was allon e scen e of con tinued

,dreadful dumb Show; differen t

passion s ofpan ic, or deadly struggle,or hellish m alice

,

absolutely suffocated all articulate utteran ces.

82 THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN.

In the first m om ents a gurgling sound was heard, as of

a wild beast attempting vainly to ye ll over som e creature

that it was strangl ing. Next cam e a tum bling outatthe

door ofon e black m ass, which heaved and parted at in tervals into two figures, which closed, which parted againwhich at last fe ll down the steps toge ther. Then appeareda figure in white . It was the unhappy Andalusian ; andshe

,see ing the outlin e Of Catalina’s person , ran up to her,

unable to utter on e syllable . Pitying the agony of her

horror,Catalinatook her w ithin her own cloak, and carried

her out at the garden gate . Calderon h ad by this tim e

died; and the man iacal alcalde had risen up to pursue hisw ife . But Kate

,foresee ing what he would do

,had stepped

s ilently within the shadow of the garden wall. Lookingdown the road to the town , and see in g nobody m oving

,

the m an iac,for som e purpose , wen t back to the house .

This m om ent Kate used to re cover -the r locanda,with the

lady still pan ting in horror. What was to b e don e ? To

think Of con cealm en t in this little place was outOf the question . The alcalde was a m an of local power, and it wasc ertain that he would kill his wife on the spot. Kate ’s gen erosity would notallow her to have any c ollusion with thismurderous purpose . At Cuzco

,the prin cipal conven t was

ruled by a n ear relative ofthe Andalusian ; and there she

would find she lter. Kate therefore saddled her horse ra

pidly, placed the lady behind, and rode Offin the darkn ess .

24.—A Steeple Chase.

About five m ile s out ofthe town the ir road was crossedby a torren t, over which they could not hit the bridge .

Forward ! ” cried the lady;“ Oh

,heaven s ! forward ! ”

and Kate repeating the word to the horse,the docile crea

ture leaped down in to the water. They were all Sink ing

THE SPANISH MILITARY NUN. 83

at first but having its head fre e , the horse swam clear of

all Obstacle s through the m idn ight darkn ess , and scram bledout on the opposite bank . The two riders w ere drippingfrom the shoulders downward . But

,se e ing a light twink

ling from a cottage window,Kate rode up; obtain ing a

l ittle refreshm en t, and the ben efit of a fire,from a poor

labouring m an . From this m an she also bought a warmm an tle for the lady, who, beside s her torren t bath, wasdressed in a light e ven ing robe , SO that b utfor the horseman

’

s cloak ofKate She would have pe rished. But therewas n o tim e to lose . They had already lost two hoursfrom the con sequen ce s Of the ir cold bath . Cuzco was stille ighteen m iles distan t ; and the alcalde

’

s shrewdness wouldaton ce divine this to b e his wife ’s m ark. They rem oun ted :very soon the silen t n ight echoed the hoofs of a pursuingrider ; and n ow c omm enced the m ost fran tic race

,in which

each party rode as if the whole gam e of life w ere stakedupon the issue . T he pace was killing : and Kate has delivered it as her opin ion

,in the m em oirs which she wrote

,

that the alcalde was the better m oun ted. This may b edoubted. A nd certain ly Kate had ridden too m any yearsin the Span ish cavalry

,to have any fear Of his worship

’

s

horsem an ship ; b ut it was a prodigious disadvan tage thather horse had to carry double ; while the horse ridden byher oppon en t was on e Of those be longing to the m urderedD on An ton io

,and known to Kate as a powerful an imal .

At length they had com e within three m iles ofCuzco. The

road after this descended the whole way to the city,and in

som e place s rapidly,so as to require a cool rider. Sud

den ly a de ep tren ch appeared trave rsing the whole exten tof a broad heath . It was useless to evade it. To havehe sitated

,was to b e lost. Kate saw the n ecessity Of clear

ing it; but she doubted much whether her poor exhausted

1 T HE SPANISH M ILITARY NUN.

horse,after twen ty - on e m iles ofwork so severe , had strength

for the effort. However, th e race was n early fin ished, a

score ofdreadful m iles had be en accom plished; and Kate’

s

m axim,which n ever yethad failed, both figuratively for life ,

and l iteral ly for the saddl e , was— to ride ateve rything thatshowed a fron t of re sistan ce . She did so n ow . Having

com e upon the tren ch rather too sudden ly, she whe eled

round for the advantage ofcom ing down upon it w ith m ore

impetus, rode resolute ly at it, cleared it, and gain ed theopposite bank. The hind fe e t Of her horse were Sinkingback from the rottenn ess ofthe ground; b utthe strong supporting bridle - hand ofKate carried him forward; and in

ten m inutes m ore they would b e in Cuzco.

'

This be ing se enby the vengeful alcalde

,who

‘

had built great hopes on thetren ch

,he un slung his carbin e

,pulled up, and fired after the

bonny black horse and its two bonny riders . But this vicious m anoeuvre would have lost his worship any b et thathe m ight have had depending on this adm irable ste eplechase . For the bul lets

,says Kate in her m em oirs

,whistled

round the poor clinging lady en croape— luckily n on e struckher ; b ut on e wounded the horse . A nd that settled theOdds . Kate now plan ted herse lf well . in her stirrups .to

enter Cuzco, alm ost dangerously a winn er; for the horse

was SO m adden ed by the wound,and the road so ste ep, that

he wen t like blazes ; and it really becam e difficult for Kateto guide him w ith any precision through narrow. episcopal ”

paths . Hen ceforwards the wounded horse required un interm itting atten tion ; and yet, in the m ere luxury ofstrife ,it was im possible for Kate to avoid turn ing a little in he rsaddle to se e the alcalde ’s perform an ce on this tight - ropeOfthe tren ch . His worship’s horseman ship be ing

,perhaps

,

FgoiscOpal — The roads around Cuzco were made,andmain tainad

under the patronage and control ofthe bishop .

T H E SPANISH M ILITARY NUN. 85

rather rusty, and he notperfectly acquain ted with his horse ,it would have been agre eable for him to com prom ise thecase by riding round

,or dism ounting. Butall thatwas im

possible . The j ob m ust b e don e . A nd I am happy to re

port,for the reader’s satisfaction

,the seque l— SO far as Kate

could atten d the performan ce . Gathering him se lfup form isch ief

,the alcalde took a m ighty swe ep

,as if ploughing

outthe lin e ofsom e vast en cam pm en t,or tracing the pomes

riam for som e future Rom e ; then , like thun der and lightn ing

, w ith arm s flying aloft in the air,down he cam e upon

the trem bling tren ch . Butthe horse refused the leap ; totake the leap was im possible ; absolute ly to re fuse it

,the

horse fe lt,was im m oral ; and therefore , as the only com

prom ise that his un learn ed brain could suggest,he threw

his worship right over his ears , lodging him safe ly I n a san dheap

,that rose w ith clouds ofdust and scream s ofbirds in to

the m orn ing air. Kate had now n o tim e to sen d back hercom plim en ts in amusical hallOO . The alcalde m issed breaking his n e ck on this occasion very narrowly; b ut his n e ckwas Of n o use to him in twen ty m inute s m ore

,as the reader

w il l find. Kate rode right onwards ; and, com ing in w itha lady behin d her

,horse bloody

,and pace such as n o b ounds

could have l ived w ith,She ought to have m ade a great sen

sation in Cuzco. But,unhappily

,the pe ople Of Cuzco, the

Sp e ctators that should have be en,were fast asle ep in b ed .

The ste eple - chase into Cuzco had be en a fin e headlongthing

,con s idering the torren t

,the tren ch, the wounded

horse , the lovely Andalusian lady, with her agon ising fears,m oun ted behind Kate

,toge ther w ith the m e ek dove - l ike

dawn : b ut the finale crowded toge ther the quickest succession ofchanges that out Of a m e lodram a ever can have.been w itn e ssed . Kate reached the conven t in safe ty ; carried in to the cloisters, and del ivered like a pai cal the fair

86 T HE SPANISH MILITARY N UN .

Andalusian . Butto reuse the servan ts and Obtain adm ission to the conven t caused a long delay; and on return ing

to the stree t through the broad gateway Of the conven t,whom Should she face b utthe alcalde ! How he had e scaped

the trench, who can tel l ? He had no tim e to write m e

m oirs ; his horse was too illiterate . But he had escaped;t em per not at all improved by that adventure , and n ow

raised to a he ll ofmalign ity by see ing that he had lost hisprey. The m orn ing light showed him how to use his sword,and whom he had be fore him , and he attacked Kate withfury. Both were exhausted; and Kate , besides that shehad no personal quarre l with the alcalde

,having now ao

complished her' sole Object in saving the lady, would havebeen glad Ofa truce . She could with difficulty wie ld hersword : and the alcalde had so far the advantage , that hewounded Kate severely. That roused ‘her an cien t Biscayanblood; and she turn ed on him now with deadly determ ination . At that m om en t in rode two servan ts ofthe alcalde ,who took part w ith the ir m aster. These Odds strengthen edKate’s resolution

,outweaken ed her chan ces . Just then ,

howeve r, rode in and ranged him self on Kate’s Side,the ser

van t ofthe murdered Don Calderon . I n an in stan t Katehad pushed her sword through the 'alcalde , who died uponthe spot. In an instan t the servan t of Calderon had fled .

I n an in stant the alguazils had com e up . They and thes ervants ofthe alcalde pressed furiously on Kate , who wasagain fighting for her life with person s not even known toher by S ight . Again st such Odds

,she was rapidly losing

ground ; when , in an instan t,on the Opposite side ofthe

stre e t, the great gates Of the Episcopal Palace rolled open .

Thither it was that Calderon’s servan t had fled. The bishopand his attendan ts hurried across . Senor Caballero,

” saidthe bishop,

“ in the nam e ofthe Virgin , I enjoin you to sur


fo rgiven ; the sacrilegc , the bloodshed, the flight, and the

scorn Of St Sebastian ’

s (consequently Of St Pe ter’s) ke vs ;the pardons were m ade out, were s ign ed, were sealed;and the chancerie s ofearth were satisfied.

A h ! what a day of sorrow and Of j oy was thaton e day ,

in the first w e ek OfNovember, 1624, when the re turn ingKate drew n ear to the Shore ofAndalusia; when descending in to the Ship’s barge , She was rowed to the piers ofCadiz by bargem en in the royal liveries ; when she saw

e very ship, stree t,house

,conven t

,church

,crowded

,as if

on som e m ighty day Of judgm en t,w ith hum an faces

,w ith

m en,with wom en

,with children

,all bending the lights of

the ir flashing eyes upon he rself Forty m yriads ofp eoplehad gathered in Cadiz alon e . All Andalus ia had turn edoutto rece ive her. A h ! what j oy for her , if she had not

looked back to the Andes, to the ir dreadful sum m its, and

the ir m ore dreadful fe e t. Ah ! what sorrow,if she had

n ot been forced by music,and endless bann ers, and the

triumphan t jubilation s of her coun trym en,to turn away

from the Andes, and to fix her thoughts fer the m om en tupon that glad tumultuous shore which She approached .

Upon this Shore stood,ready to re ce ive he r

,in fron t of

all this m ighty crowd,the Prim e Min ister of Spain ,

thatsam e Con dé Olivare z, who b ut on e year before had beenso haughty and so defying to our haughty and defyingDuke of Buckingham . But a year ago the Prin ce Of

Wales had been in Spain, se eking a Span ish bride , and

he also was we lcom ed with trium ph and great j oy; b utnotwith the hundredth part ofthat en thusiasm which now

m etthe re turn ing nun . A nd Olivare z,that had spoken so

roughly to the Engl ish duk e,to her “was swe et as summ er.

”

Griffith in Shakspere , when vindicating, in that imm ortal scene withQueen Catherine, Cardinal W olsey.

TH E SPAN ISH MILITARY ! NUN . J

Through e ndless crowds of wel com ing com patriots h econducted her to the king. The king folded her in hisarm s

,and could n e ver b e satisfied w ith listen ing to her .

H e s en t for her con tinually to his pre sen ce ; he de lightedin her conversation , so n ew

,so natural

,so spirited; he

s ettled a pen sion upon her (at that tim e ofunpre cedente dam oun t); and by desire

,because the year 1625 was a

year ofjub i lee , she departed in a few m on ths from Madridto Rom e . She wen t through Barcelona; there and everywhere welcom ed as the lady whom the king delighted tohonour. She trave lled to Rom e

,and all doors flew open

to re ce ive her. She was presen ted to his Hol in e ss,with

letters from his m ost Catholic m aj e sty. But le tters theren e eded n on e . The Pope adm ired her as m uch as all beforehad don e . H e caused her to recite all her adven ture s ;and what he loved m ost in her accoun t was the sin cereand sorrow in g spirit in which she de scribed hers e lf as

n e ither be tter n or worse than she had been . Ne itherproud was Kate

,nor sycophan tishly and false ly hum ble .

Urban VIII. it was then that fil led the chair of St Pe ter.

H e did n ot n eglect to raise his daughter’s thoughts fromearthly things : he poin ted her eye s to the clouds thatw ere floating in m ighty volum e s above the dom e of St

Pe ter’s Cathedral ; he told her what the cathedral had toldher am ongs t the gorgeous clouds of the Andes and the

solemn vesper lights— how swe e t 3 th ing, how divin e a

thing it was for Chris t’s sake to forgi ve all injurie s; andhow he trusted that n o m ore

'

she would think ofbloodshed;b ut that , if again she should suffer wrongs, she would te

sign all vindict ive retaliation for them in to the han ds ofGod

,the fin al Avenger. I m ust also find t im e to m en tion ,

although the.

press and the com positors are in a fury atmydelays, that the Pope , in his farewell audience to his dear

u 2


daughter, whom he was to see no m ore , gave her agenerallicen se to wear henceforth in all coun trie s— even in parti

bus I qfidelz’

um— a cavalry officer’s dre ss— boots, spurs, sabre ;in fact

,anything that She and the Horse Guards m ight

agre e upon . Con sequently, reader, say n ot on e word, n or

suffer any tailor to say on e word, or the n in th part of a

word, against those We l lington trousers m ade in the

che stnut forest; for, understanding that the papal indulgence as to this poin t run s backwards as w ell as forwards,it san ction s equal ly those trousers in the forgotten rear,

and all possible trousers yetto com e .

From Rom e,Kate re turn ed to Spain . She even wen t

to St Sebastian ’

s— to the city, b ut— whethe r itwas thather heart failed her or not— n ever to the conven t . She

roam ed up and down ; everywhere she was we lcom e

e verywhere an honoured guest ; b ut everywhere re stless .

The poor and humble n ever ceased from the ir adm irationofher ; and am ongst the rich and aristocratic ofSpain , withthe king at the ir head

,Kate foun d e sp ecial love from two

classes ofm en . The cardinals and bishops all doated uponher— as the ir daughter that was return ing. The m ilitarym en all doated upon her— as the ir sister that was re tiring.

26 .—Farewell to the Daughter ofStSebastian !

N ow, at this m om en t,it has be com e n e cessary for m e to

close, but I allow to the reader on e quest ion before layingdown my pen . Com e now,

reader,b e quick ; look Sharp ;

and ask what you have to ask ; for in on e m inute and

a-half I am going to write in capitals the word FIN I S ; afterwhich, you know, I am notat liberty to add a syllable . Itwould b e sham eful to do so Since that word Finis en tersinto a secre t covenan t with the reader that he Shall b e m e

l ested no more with words,small or great. Twenty to on e,

THE SPANISH MILITARY N UN . 9 1

I guess what your question w ill b e . You desire to ask

m e , What be cam e ofKate ? What was her end ?

A h,reader ! b ut, if I an swer that que stion , you will say

I have notan swered it. If I te ll you that secret, you w il lsay that the secre t is still hidden . Yet

,because I have

prom ised,and because you will b e angry if I do not

,let

m e do m y best . After ten years of restlessn ess in Spain ,w ith thoughts always turn ing back to the dreadful Andes,Kate heard of an expedition on the poin t of sailing to

Span ish Am erica. Al l soldiers kn ew her,so that she had

in formation of everything which stirred in cam ps. M en

of the highest m ilitary rank we re going outw ith the e x

pedition ; but Kate was a sister everywhere privileged ;she was as much cherished and as sacred, in the eye s ofevery brigade or tertz

’

a,as the ir own regim en tal colours ;

and every m em ber of the staff,from the highest to the

lowest,rejoiced to hear that She would join the ir m e ss on

board ship . This Ship,with others

,sailed; whither final ly

bound,I really forget . But

,on reaching Am erica

,all the

expedition touched at Vera Cruz . Thither a great crowdofthe m ilitary wen t on shore . The leading officers m adea separate party for the sam e purpose . The ir inten tionwas, to have a gay, happy dinn er, after the ir long confin e

m en t to a ship,at the chiefhote l ; and happy in perfection

the dinn er could n ot b e,un less Kate would con sen t to join

it. She,that was ever kind to brothe r soldiers , agreed to

do so. She descended into the boat along with them ,and

in twen ty m inutes the boat touched the shore . Al l thebevy of gay laughing officers

,jun ior and sen ior

,like so

many schoolboys let loose from school,jum ped on shore ,

and walked hastily, as the ir tim e was lim ited,up to the

hote l. Arriving there,all turn ed round in eagern e ss,

saying, “Where is our dear Kate ? ” Ah, yes, m y dear

92 T HE SPANISH M ILITARY N UN .

Kate , at that solem n m om en t, where , indeed were

She had, beyond all doubt, taken her seat in the boat : thatwas certain , though nobody

,in the gen eral con fusion , was

certain of having se e n he r actually step ashore . The s ea

was searched for her— the fore sts were ran sacked . But

the sea did n otgive upits dead, if there inde ed She lay ; and

the forests m ade n o an swer to the sorrowing hearts which

sought her am ongst them . Have I n ever form ed a conj e eture ofm y own upon the mysterious fate which thus suddenly e nve loped he r, and hid he r in darkn ess for eve r?

Ye s,I have . But it is a conjecture too dim and un steady

to b e worth repeat ing. H er brother soldiers , that Shouldnatural ly have had m ore m aterials for gue s s ing than myself, were all lost in sorrow ing perplexity

,and could n ever

arrive even ata p lausibl e conj e cture .

Thathappen ed two hundred and twen ty - on e years ago !A nd here is the brief upshot ofall — This nun sailed fromSpain to Peru, and She found no rest for the sole ofher foot .This nun sailed back from Peru to Spain , and she found norest for the agitat ion s ofher heart . This nun sailed againfrom Spain to Am erica

,and She found— the rest which all

ofus find. Butwhere it was,could n ever b e m ade known

to the father ofSpan ish cam ps,that sat in Madrid; n or to

Kate ’s Spiritual father,that sat in Rom e . Known it is to

the great Father ofall,that on ce whispered to Kate on the

Andes; b utelse it has be en a se cre t for m ore than two centurie s : and to man it remains a secre t for ever and ever !

P O ST S CR I P T.

THERE are some narratives, which, though pure fictions from first

to last,counterfe it so vividly the air of grave realities

,that

,if de

lib erately offered for such, they would foratime impose upon everybody. In the opposite scale there are other narratives

,which,

whilst rigorously true, move amongst characters and scenes so re

mote from our ordinary experience, and through a state of societyso favourable to an adventurous cast of incidents, that they wouldeverywhere pass for romances, ifsevered from the documents whichattest the ir fidelitytofacts. In the former class stand the adm irablenovels ofDefoe ; and, on a lower range within the same category,the inimitable Vicar of Wakefie ld upon which last novel ,without atall design ing it, I once became the author of the followIng Instructive experiment. I had given a copy ofthis little nove lto a beautiful girl of seventeen , the daughter of a

’Statesman in

W estmoreland,notdesign ingany deception (nor somuch asany con

cealment)with respect tothe fictitious character ofthe incidents andofthe actors in that famous tale. M ere accident it was that had intercepted those explanationsas tothe extent offiction in these pointswhich in this case it would have been so natural to make. Indeed,considering the exquisite verisim ilitude of the work m eeting withsuch absolute inexperience in the reader, it was almost a duty tohave made them . This duty, however, somethinghad causedme toforget ; and when next I saw the young mountaineer, I forgot thatI had forgotten it. Consequently, atfirst I was perplexed by theunfaltering gravity with which my fair young friend spoke of Dr

94 P OSTSCRIP’

I‘.

Primrose, ofSophiaand her sister, ofSquire Thornhill, &c., as real

and probably living personages, who could sue and b e sued. It appeered that this artless young rustic, whohad never heard ofnovelsand romances as abare possibility amongst all the Shameless devicesofLondon swindlers, had read with religious fidelity every word of

this tale,so thoroughly l ife - like

,surrendering her perfect faith and

her loving sympathy to the different persons in the tale and thenatural distresses in which they are involved, without suspectingfor amom ent that, by so much as a breathing of exaggeration or

ofembellishment, the pure gospel truth ofthe narrative could havebeen sullied. She listened in a kind of breathless stupor to myfrank explanation— that not part on ly, but the whole, of this natural tale was a pure invention . Scorn and indignation flashedfrom her eyes. She regarded herselfas one who had been hoaxedand swindled; begged me to take back the book ; and n ever again ,to the end of her life, could endure to look into the book, or to b ereminded of that crim inal imposture which Dr Oliver Goldsmithhad practised upon her youthful credulity.In that case

,abook altogether fabulous, and notmean ing tooffer

itself for anything else,had been read as genuine history. Here

,

on the other hand,the adventures of the Spanish Nun, which, in

every detail of time and place have since been Sifted and authenticated, stood agood chance at one period of being classed as themost lawless ofromances. Itis

,indeed

,undeniable— and this arises

as a natural result from the bold adventurous character of the

heroine, and from the unsettled state of society at that period inSpanish America— that areader, the most credulous, wouldattimesb e startled with doubts upon what seems so unvarying a tenor ofdanger and lawless violence. But

,on the other hand

,it is also

undeniable that a reader, the most obstinately sceptical,would b e

equally startled in the very opposite direction , on remark ing thatthe incidents are far from being such as a romance-writer wouldhave been l ikely to invent ; Since, if striking, tragic, and even ap

palling, they are at times repulsive. And it seems evident, that,once putting himse lfto the cost ofa wholesale fiction

,the writer

would have used his privilege more freely for his own advantage.

9 6 Posrsom rr .

e ntitled Autobiographic Sketches,”or Selections Grave andGay,”

from the m ilitary experiences ofaNun, orpossibly The ConfessionsofaBiscayan Fire - Eater,” is more than I know. Nomatter : confessions they were ; and confessions that, when at length published,were absolutely mobbed and hustled by agang ofm isbelieving ( i. e. ,

m iscreant) critics. A nd this fact is most remarkable, that the personwho originallyheadedthe incredulousparty— viz., SenorDe Ferrer, alearned Castilian— was the very sam e who finallyxauthenticated, bydocumentary evidence, the extraordinary narrative in those partswhich had most ofall invited scepticism. The progress of the dis

pute threw the decision at length upon the archives ofthe SpanishMarine. Those for the southern ports ofSpain had been transferred,I believe

,from Cadiz and St Lucar to Seville ; chiefly, perhaps,

through the confusions incident to the two French invasions of

Spain in our own day [ I SL that under Napoleon ; 2dly, that underthe Due d

’Angouléme] . Amongst these archives, sub sequently

amongst those of Cuzco in South America; 3dly, amongst the re

cords ofsome royal courts in Madrid; 4thly, by col lateral prooffromthe Papal Chancery; 5thly, from Barcelona— have been drawn together ample attestations of all the incidents recorded by Kate.

The elopement from StSebastian’s, the doubling ofCape Horn, theshipwreck on the coast ofPeru, the rescue ofthe royal bannerfromthe Indians ofChili

,the fatal duel in the dark

,the aston ishingpas

sage of the Andes, the tragical scenes atTucuman and Cuzco, thereturn to Spain in obedience to a royal and a papal summons, thevisit to Rome and the interview with the pope ; finally, the returnto South America

,and the mysterious disappearance atVera Cruz,

upon which no light was ever thrown— all these capital heads ofthenarrative have been establishedbeyond the reach ofscepticism : and,

in consequence,the story was soon afteradoptedas historical ly esta

b lished. and was reported at length by journals of the highestcredit in Spain and Germany, and by a Parisian journal so cautionsand sodistinguished for its abilityas the Revue des Deux Mondes

I must not leave the impression upon my readers,that this com

plex body of documentary evidences has been searched and ap

praised by myself. Frankly I acknowledge that, on the sole occa

PosTsonIP T . 97

sion when any opportunity offered itselffor such a lab our, I shrankfrom it as too fatiguing— andalsoas superfluous ; Since, ifthe proofshad satisfied the compatriots ofCatal ina, who came to the investi

gatien“

with hostile feelings of partisanship, and not dissemblingoneIr incredul ity, armed also (and inM rDe Ferrer

’s case conspicu

ously arm ed)with the appropriate learn ing for giving effect to thisincredulity— it could not become a stranger to suppose him se lf

qualified for disturbing a judgment that had been so deliberatelydel ivered. Such atribunal ofnative Spaniards being satisfied, therewas no further open ing for demur. The ratification ofpoorKate’smemoirs is now therefore to b e understood as absolute

,andwithout

reserve.

This b eing stated— viz .

,such an attestation from competent

authorities to the truth ofKate’s narrative,as may save all readers

from myfairW estmoreland friend’s disaster— itremains to give suchan answer

,as without further research can b e given , to a question

pretty sure of arising in all reflective readers’ thoughts— viz., Doesthere anywhere survive aportrait ofKate ? I answer— and it wouldb e b oth mortifying and perplexing ifI could not Yes. One such

portrait there is confessedly; and seven years ago this was to b efound atAix- la- Chapelle

,in the collection ofHerr Sempeller. The

name of the artist I am not able to report; n either can I say

whether Herr Sempeller’s col lection still remains intact

,and re

mains atAix - la- Chapelle.

But inevitably to most readers, who review the circumstances ofa case so extraordinary

,it wil l occur

,that b eyond a doubt many

portraits ofthe adventurous nun must have been executed. To haveafl

’

ronted the wrath of the Inquisition,and to have survived such

an audacity,would ofitselfb e enough to found a title for the mar

tial nun to a national interest. It is true that Kate had nottakenthe veil ; she had stopped short ofthe deadliest crime known to theInquisition ; but stil l her transgressions were such as to require aspecial indulgence ; and this indulgence was granted by apope tothe intercession of a king— the greatest then re igning. It was afavour that cduld not have been asked by any greater man in thisworld

,nor granted by any less. Had no other distinction settled

38 Pos'rSCRIPT.

upon Kate, this would have been enough to fix the gaze ofher ownnation. Buther whole life constituted Kate’s supreme distinction .

There can b e no doubt, therefore, that, from the year 1624 (i. e., thelast year ofour James she became the object ofan admiration inher own country that was almost idolatrous. And this adm irationwas notofakind that rested upon anypartisan - schism amongst hercountrymen. So long as it was kept alive by her b odily presenceamongst them,

it was an adm iration equally aristocratic and po

pular, shared alike by the rich and the poor— by the lofty and thehumble. Great, therefore, would be the demand for her portrait.There is a tradition that Velasquez, who had in 1623 executed aportrait of Charles I . (then Prince ofWales), was amongst thosewho in the three or four following years m in istered to this demand.

It is believed also, that in travel ling from Genoa and Floren ce toRome

,She satto various artists, in order to m eet the interest about

herselfalready rising amongst the cardinals and other dign itaries ofthe Romish Church. It is probable, therefore, that numerous pictures ofKate are yetlurking both in Spain and Italy, butnotknownas such. For

,as the public consideration granted to her had grown

outofmerits and qualities purely personal , and were kept alive byno local or familymemorials rooted in the land

,or surviving herself,

it was inevitable that,as soon as She herself died

,all identification

of her portraits would perish : and the portraits would thenceforwards b e confoundedwith the Similar memorials

, past all numbering,which everyyear accumulates as the wrecks from household rememb rancos ofgenerations that are passing or passed, that are fading orfaded

, that are dying or buried. It is wel l,therefore, amongst so

many irr ecoverable ruins,that

,in the portrait atAix- la- Chapelle, we

still possess one undoubted representation (and therefore in som e

degree ameans for identifying other representations) of a female somemorablyadorned by nature ; giftedwith capacities so unparalleledboth ofdoing and suffering; who l iveda life so stormy, andperishedby afate so unsearchab ly mysterious.

100 TH E LAST DAYS or KANT .

posed obscurity ofthe philosophy which they deliver, whether inalienable

,or due to Kan t’s particular m ode of e x

pounding it; thirdly, to the unpopularity ofall Speculativephilosophy whatsoever

,no m atter how treated, in a coun

try where the structure and tende n cy of society im pressupon the whole activities ofthe nation a direction alm ost

that Leibn itz,the forerunn er of Kant, holding the sam e station in phi

losophy for the fifty years between 1666 and 1716, which Kant he ld forthe fifty years between 1750 and 1800, wrote chiefly in French ; and, ifat any tim e not in French, then in Latin ; whereas Kant wrote almoste x clusive ly in German . A nd why ? Simply because al l the sovereignprinces in Germany, that found nothing am iss in German dollars andcrowns

,drew their little Aulic machin eries in so servile a spirit ofm i

m icry from France, that the very b reath of their nostrils was the foul,

heated atm osphere ofVersaill es, “ laid on”

(as our water compan ies say)atsecond-hand for German use . The air of German forests which once

Arm in ius had found good enough , the language ofGermany thatLutherhad made resonant as a trumpet of resurrection— these w ere not superfine enough for the Seren issz

'

m i of Germany. Even Fritz the un ique(FMede m

’

ch der E insa'

ger) , which was the Germ an nam e , the caressingnam e , for the man whom in England w e call the great king of Prussia,the hero ofthe Seven Years’ War, the friend and also the en em y ofVoltaire , in this respect was even m ore abj ect than his predecessors. But,

if he did notalter, Germany did. The great power and compass of theGerman language, which the vilest of anti-national servilities obscuredto the eyes ofthose that occupied thrones, had gradually revealed themselves to the popular m ind ofGermany, as it advanced in culture . A nd

thence ithappened that Kant’s writings w ere alm ost exclusively in German ; or, if in any case not in German , then in Latin ,

b ut Latin onlyupon an academ ic n ecessity. This prosperity, however, of the Germanlanguage proved the m isfortune of Kant’s philosophy. For many yearshis philosophy was accessible only to those who read German , an aecom

plishm entexceedingly rare down tothe eraofWaterloo; or, ifin any quarter notrare (as am ongst the travelling agents ofgreat comm ercial housesthat exported to Germany, and amongst the clerks ofbankers), not likelyto b e disposable for purposes ofliterature or ph ilosophy. Sin ce then , Kanthas been tran slated into Latin— viz .

,by Born

,whose version I have not

seen ; and , as respects Kant’s cardinal work, adm irably by Phiseldek , aDanish professor; and it is possible by others unknown to myself. He

has also been translated into English ; b ut, if the slight fragm ent oncecommun icated to m yse lfw ere atal l a fair representative Specim en ofthe

prevailing style, not in such English as could have much chance ofwin e

THE LAST DAYS or KANT . 101

exclusive ly practical .‘ But, whatever m ay have b een theimm ediate fortun es ofhis writings, n o m an of en lighten edcuriosity will regard the author him self without som eth ing

ofa profounder intere st . Measured by on e test ofpower— viz

,by the number of books written dire ctly for or

again st him self, to say nothing of those which indire ctly

n ing afavourable audien ce . T o do that, however, it may b e said, wouldb e beyond al l powers that ever yetwere lodged in any language w ieldedby any artist. A nd, if so, does it not seem invidious to tax this partion lar version , however unskilful, w ith afailure that must for al l sub stantial results have attended any possible version , though in the highestdegree judicious and m asterly ? I answer

, that no doubt m ere skill inthe treatm en t of language could not avail to popularise a philosophyessentially obscure . Popular the Transcendental Philosophy cannot b e .

That is not its destiny. But, in those days, when as yetGerman was asealed language , a judicious version m ight have availed to disarm thisphilosophy ofall that is likely to prove offensive atfirst Sight. The few

who in any nation are capable ofmastering it m ight have been conciliated; atany rate, they did notneed to find anything primafacie repulsive

, or gratuitously repul sive in its diction ; and, here as in other cases,

these few would gradually have diffused much of what was chiefly valuable am ongst the many. W ere it on ly as to logic and as to ethics, therewoul d have arisen the benefits of a new and severer legislation . Logic,with its proper fie ld and boundaries m ore rigorously ascertained, wouldhave re - entered upon its rights ; ren ouncing a jurisdiction notits own , it

would have wielded»with m ore authority and effect that wh ich is . A nd

ethics, braced up into stoical vigour by renouncing al l eflem inate dallyings with E udcemon ism ,

would indirectly have co- operated with the

sublim e ideals ofChristian ity.E x clusively practical

-At the tim e when this was written , itm ight b e regarded as n earer to the truth than now

, and so far less n eeding an apology. But, on closer con sideration , I doubt whether at anyperiod this w ere true in the degree assum ed by rash popular judgm ents.

The speculative philosophy of England has atal l tim es tended to hideitself in theology. In her divin ity lurks her philosophy . For more

than three centuries, the divin ity of England has form ed amagn ificentsection in the national literature . In reality there are b ut two learn edchurches in the world— not m ore

,therefore , than two systematic theo

logies— first, the Papal ; secondly, am ongst Protestant churches, the

Anglican . Buti s there notalso the German ? Yes, there is also a German theology, and has been any tim e these forty years. And withrespectto this, which styles itself(upon m ix ed motives ofcowardice and

102 THE LAST DAYS or KAN T .

he has m odified— there is n o philosophic writer whatso

ever, ifwe except Aristotle , D es Cartes, and Locke , who canpretend to approach Kan t in the exten t or in the depth

ofinfluence which he has exe rcised over the m inds ofm en .

Such be ing his claim s upon our notice , I repeat that it is

n o m ore than a reasonable act of respect for the reade r ,

self- interest) aP rotestant theology, it is quite sufficient to say, that itpresents no un ity ofany kind, good or b ad. Itis a distracted, fragm entary thing ; without internal cohesion ; offering no systematic whole ;starting from no avowed creed, and control led by no comm on principlesof interpretation . But is it not a learn ed th eology; and, secondly, aProtestant theology ? A s to the first question , any candid man vu ll

tnswer by distinguishing— ifphilology, and thatalon e , were equal to thetask of building upa systematic divin ity- then is the German in a su

preme degree learned. But I deny that the enorm ous labours of threeand a-half centuries, accumulated by our Anglican Church , by the Gallican Church , by various branches of the Rom ish Church m ore strictlyPapal, can b e resolved into mere philology. A l l studies conn ected withlanguage having becom e in our day m ore critically ex act, and withgreat advantages for accurate research

, so far the Germ an is seen under

a favourable light. But,in the m eantim e, its labours of thought and

far- stretching m editative collation are as children ’

s play,by comparison

with the colossal contributions of our own heroic workm en in that field.

A s to the second question, the answer is Short and peremptory. I s it

notProtestant ? N o sans phrase, no. N e ither could it ever have beenfancied such , un less under the following fallacy. The characteristicprin ciple of Protestantism is supposed to b e the right of private judgm ent : without scruple , therefore, it is usual to say, al l Protestants ex ercise the right of private judgm ent. Upon which com es som e German ,who reverses the rule - saying, al l m en , ex ercising the right of privatejudgm ent, are Protestants. Under that courteous indulgence, Germantheology is Protestant, for assuredl y there is nowant ofprivate judgm entor audacity. But, in the m eantim e, the value or efficacy ofsuch a designation has exhaled into smoke . Thatcannot b e Protestant which assum es

by fits all possible relations to al l conceivable subjects. Itis enough tosay, that the German theology is altogether at sea, drifting in any chancedirection . according tothe impulse which it receives : som etim es obedientto arandom caprice in the indIVIduaI writer, som etim es to am om entaryfashion of thought in the age . It presents alm ost as many incoherenttheologies as there are of individual authors . And finally, under anyex trem ity offeud and schism , there is no recogn ised court I speak figu~

ratively, m eaning no intellectual tribunal) for arbitration or appeal .

104 THE LAST DAYS or KANT.

tical and partly philosophic— viz .,the valuation of living

forces. The question concern ed had been first m oved byLe ibn itz

,in opposition to the Cartesian s; a n ew law of

valuation,and not m erely a n ew valuation , was insisted

on by Le ibn itz ; and the dispute was supposed to have

been here at last and finally settled, after having occupied

most ofthe great European mathematicians for m ore than

half- a- century. Kan t’s “D issertation ” was dedicated to

the King of Prussia, b ut n ever reached him ; having, in

fact (though printed, I believe), n ever be en published ?

From this tim e till 1770, Kan t supported him self as aprivate tutor in d ifferen t fam ilies, or by giving privatelectures in Kon igsberg

,e special ly to m ilitary m en on the

art of fortification . I n 1770, he was appoin ted to theChair ofMathematics

,which he exchanged soon after for

that ofLogic and Metaphysics . On this occasion he delivered an inaugural disputation (D e M andi Sensibz

'

h’

s atgue

I ntellzjgz’

bz'

hs Formact which is remarkable forcontain ing the first germ s

‘

rof the Tran scenden tal Philosophy. I n 1781

,he published his great work, the Kri

tik der Re in en Vernunft,

”or

“Critical Investigation ofthe

Pure Reason .

”On February 12, 1804, he died.

These are the great epochs of Kan t’s l ife . But his wasa life remarkable , not so much for its in cidents, as for thepurity and philos0phic dign ity of its daily tenour; and of

To this circum stance we must attribute its being so l ittle knownam ongst the philosophers and mathematician s offoreign countries, andalso the fact that D ’

Alem b ert, whose philosophywas m iserably be low hismathematics, many years afterwards still continued to represent the dispute as a verbal one.

Thefirstgerms —Such, I believe, is the prevailing phrase, b utinreality much more than germ s. To m e this m em orable essay seem s

rather to resemble an abstract of the Kritik der Reinen Vernunft ."from adim recollection of it

,than aforeshadowing of its outline by any

effortofimperfect preconception .

THE LAST DAYS or E AS T . 105

this the best impression will b e obtain ed from W asiansk 1 sm em orials— checked and supported by the collateral testim on ies ofJachmann

,Rink

,Borowski

,and others . W e se e

him here struggling with the m isery ofdecaying faculties ,and with the pain

,depression

,and ag itation oftwo differen t

com plain ts - on e afi'

ecting his stom ach,and the other his

head; over all which the ben ign ity and nobility of his nature m oun t

,as if on wings

, Victoriously to the last . The

principal defect of this and all other m em oirs of Kan t is,

that they report too little ofhis conversation and opin ions .

A nd perhaps the reader w ill b e disposed to com plain,that

som e of the notices are too m inute and circum stan tial, so

as to b e aton e tim e undignified, and atanother unfe eling.

With respect to the first obj ection,it m ay b e an swered,

that biographical gossip of this sort,and ungen tleman ly

scrutiny into a m an ’

s private life,though notwhat a m an

ofhonour would allow him self to write,m ay b e read with

out blam e ; and, where a great m an is the subject,som e

tim es with advan tage . A s to the other obj ection,I should

hardly know how to excuse Mr Wasian sk i for kn e e l ing atthe bedside ofhis dying friend

,in order to record

,with the

accuracy ofa short- han d reporter,the last flutter ofKan t’s

pulse , and the struggles of nature labouring 1n extrem ity,except by supposing that his idealised con ception ofKan t

,

as of one be longing to all ages,seem ed in his m ind to

transcend and swallow upthe ordinary re strain ts ofhumansen sibility ; and that, under this im pression , he gave thatto his sen se of a public duty which

,it m ay b e hoped, he

would willingly have de cl in ed on the im pulse ofhis privateaffe ction s . N ow letus begin

,prem ising that for the m ost

part it is Wasian ski who speaks .*

“I t is Wastanskt who speaks

— This notification , however, mustnotb e too rigorously interpreted. Undoubtedly it would b e wrong, and


My knowledge of Professor Kan t began long before theperiod to which this little m em orial ofhim chiefly refe rs .

Tn the year 1773 or 1774, I cannot exactly say which, Iattended his lectures. Afterwards I acted as his amanuen sis; and in that office was naturally brought in to a

closer conn ection with him than any other ofthe students ;so that

,without any request on my part, b e granted m e

a gen eral privilege of free access to his class- room . I n

1780 I took orders,and withdrew m yse lf from all conn ec

tion with the un iversity. I still con tinued,however, to

reside in Kon igsberg ; b utwhol ly forgotten , or atany ratewhol ly unnoticed, by Kan t. T en years later (that is to say,in I m ethim by acciden t at a gay festal party; infact it was a wedding party

,and the wedding was that of

a Ko'

n igsberg professor. A t table,Kan t distributed his

conversation and attentions pre tty g en erally; b ut afterthe en tertainm en t

,when the com pany had dispersed in to

separate groups,he cam e and seated him self obligingly by

my Side . At . that tim e I was a florist— an am ateur,I

m ean, from the passion I had for flowers ; upon learn ing

which he talked of my favourite pursuit, and with veryextensive information . I n the course ofour conversation ,

I was surprised to find that he was perfectly acquainted

of evil example, to distribute and confound the separate responsibilitiesofm en . When the opin ions involve important m oral distinctions, by al lm eans letevery man hang by his own hook, and answer for nom ore thanhe has solemnly undertaken for. But, on the other hand, it would b emost annoying to the reader, ifal l the petty recollection s of some ten or

fourteen m en reporting upon Kant were individually to b e labelled eachw ith its separate certificate oforigin and ownership. Wasianski loqm

’

tur

may b e regarded as the runn ing title : b ut it is not, therefore, to b eunderstood that W asianski is always respon sible for each particularopin ion or fact reported, unlesswhere it is l iable to doubt or controversy.

In that case, the respon sibility is cautiously discrimm ated and restricted.


his dinn er party, him self included, should not fall below

the number of the Graces, nor exce ed that of the Muses.

In the whole e conomy of his household arrangem en ts, ande special ly ofhis dinn er parties, there was som e thing peou

liar,and am usingly opposed to the conven tional usage of

society; not,however, that there was any n eglect of de

corum ,such as som etim es occurs in houses where there are

no ladies to im pre ss a better ton e upon the m ann ers . The

routine , which under no circum stan ces e ither varied or re

lax ed, was this : no soon er was dinn er ready,than Lam pe

,

the profe ssor’s old footman , stepped in to the study with a

certain m easured air, and announ ced it. This summ on s

was obeyed ata pace ofdouble - quick tim e— Kan t talkingall the way to the eating - room about the state ofthe weather

,

ata subject which he usually pursued during the earlier

part of the dinn er. Graver them es,such as the political

even ts of the day, were n ever introduced before dinn er, oratall in his study. The m om ent that Kant had taken hisseat, and unfolded his napkin , he open ed the busin ess ofthehour with a particular formula— “N ow,

then, gentlemen !

The words are nothing; b ut the ton e and air with whichhe uttered them proclaim ed

,in a way that nobody could

m istake , relaxation from the toils of the m orn ing, anddeterm inate abandonm en t of him self to social enjoym en t.The table was hospitably spread; a suflicientchoice ofdishesthere was to m eet the variety oftastes ; and the decantersofwin e were placed

,n ot on a distan t sideboard, or under

the odious con trol ofa servan t (first cousin to the Barm e

cides), b utanacreontically on the table,and at the elbow

His reason for which was, that he con sidered the weather one oftheprincipal forces which actupon the health ; and his own frame was ex

quis1tely sensrb le to all atmospheric influences .


of every guest.” Every person helped him self; and all

delays,from too elaborate a spirit of cerem ony

,were so

disagreeable to Kan t,that he seldom failed to express

his displeasure with anything of that sort, though not

angrily. For this hatred of delay Kanthad a special e xcuse

,having always worked hard from an early hour in

the m orn ing,and eaten nothing un til dinn er. H en ce it

was,that in the latter period of his life

,though less per

haps from actual hunger than from som e un easy sensationof habit or periodical irritation of stomach, he could

Som ething is said or insinuated, by som e ofthe contributors to thisrecord, about second courses. But, in strict truth , when speaking of so

hum ble am enage as that ofany scholar possessing no private fortune, or(like Kant) non e beyond that m odest one ofabout £4000sterl ing, whichforty years offrugality had won from the narrow appointm ents of his

academ ic office, on e is obliged to recol lect that anything whatever in theshape of a remove w ill stand good for a techn ical course.

”I knew a

man who presen ted his guests with aplate ofwater- cresses and radishes ,as what he called a third course, and two kinds of biscuits as afowrth.

Meantim e, I have myselfdrawn from aprivate source som e information(liable to no doubt whatsoever) which would partially set aside the re

ports ofWasian ski and Rink. Do I therefore allow myself to questionthe veracity ofth ese gentlem en ? N otatall . The m ere triviality ofthewhole case

'

is a sufficient guarantee of their accuracy. But ofn ecessitythey (one as m uch as the other) spoke to a particular period— am onth,or a year. My two informants spoke to far different periods— differingby five and n ine years from the period ofWasiansk i

,and each from the

other differing by four. These two informants (one of them an Englishman , long settled as am erchant atKbnigsb erg)described to m e a. dinnerin all its circum stantial features. The sum of their information was,that in those days Kant’s dinners, if at al l of the festival class com

m em orating any interesting event, were long and loitering, as indeed alldinn ers ought to b e which m in ister to colloquial pleasures as their primary obj ects. They lasted through three or four hours ; and the disheswere notplaced on the table atall , b utwere handed round on e by one insuccession . On this plan it was outof the question to talk of courses .

People lean ed back in their chairs, as atany aristocraticdinner in England,for half-hours together, simply conversing, and recurring only at intervals to the business ofeating, when anydish happened tob e offeredwhichspecially attracted the particular guest.

110 T HE LAST DAYS or KANT .

hardly wait with patience for the arrival ofthe lastpersoninvited.

There was no friend ofKant’s b utcons ide red the day onwhich he was to din e w ith him as a day of festal pleasure .

Without giving him self the air ofan in structor, Kan t reallywas such in the very highest degre e . The whole entertainm entwas season ed with the overflow ofhis en lighten edm ind

,poured out natural ly and unaffectedly upon every

topic,as the chan ces of conversation suggested it ; and

the tim e flew rapidly away, from on e o’clock to four

,five ,

or even later,profitably and delightfully. Kan t tolerated

n o lulls,which was the nam e he gave to the m om entary

pauses in conversation,when its an imation languished.

Som e m ean s or other he always devised for rekindling itstone of in terest ; and in this he was m uch assisted by thetact with which he drew from every guest his peculiartastes, or the particular direction of his pursuits ; and on

these,b e they what they m ight

,b e was n ever unprepared

to speak w ith kn owledge,and with the in terest of an

original observer. The local affairs of Kon igsberg musthave been interesting indeed, before they could b e allowedto usurp attention athis table. A nd what m ay seem stillm ore singular

,it was rare ly or n ever that he directed the

conversation to any bran ch of the philosophy founded byhim self. Indeed he was perfe ctly free from the fault whichbesets so m any savans and literati, of in toleran ce towardsthose whose pursuits m ight happen to have disqualifiedthem for any special sym pathy with his own . His style ofconversation was popular in the highest degre e , and nu

scholastic ; so much so, that any stranger acquain ted with hisworks, b utnotwith his person , would have found it difficultto be l ieve , that in this delightful and gen ial compan ion hesaw the profound author ofthe Transcendental Philosophy.

112 THE LAST DAYS or KANT .

talked rather with the authority ofadiplomatic person whohad access to cabin et intel ligen ce , than as a simple specta

to r ofthe great scenes which were in those days unfoldingthroughout Europe . At the tim e of the Fren ch Revolution

,he threw outmany conjectures , and what then passed

for paradoxical anticipations, especially in regard to m ilitary operation s, which were as pun ctually fulfilled as his

own m em orable conj ecture in regard to the hiatus in thep lan etary system betwe en Mars and Jupiter,"

Ethe en tire

confirm ation ofwhich he lived to witn ess on the discoveryofCeres by Piazzi, and ofPallas by D r Olbers. These twodis coveries, by the way, im pressed him m uch ; and they furn ished a topic on which he always talked with pleasure ;though, according to his usual m odesty

,he n ever said a

word ofhis own sagacity in having upon aprz'

orz'

groundsShown the probability ofsuch discoveries many years before .

Vestaand Juno were discovered in Jun e, 1804, about the tim e whenWasiansk iwrote. Meantime , I do notprofess tounderstand my Germanauthorities atthis point. A ny hiatus in the plan etary system that Kantsuspected, so far as I am acquainted with his views, did not lie betweenMars and Jupiter, b utin a higher region ; n either was it ofa nature tob e rem edied by bodies so smal l as Ceres and Pallas. What Kant hadindicated as an apparent ground for presum ing som e hiatus in our own

system ,was the abruptness of the transition from one order of orbits to

another— viz . ,from the plan etary, which m ight b e regarded as by ten

deney circular, to the cometary order, which departs from this tendencyby al l degrees of eccentricity. The passing of the first into the lastseem ed to Kant not properly graduated : it was discon tinuous. He pre

sum ed, therefore, that between the outermost known planet, which at

that tim e was Saturn , and the com etary system , som e great plan et muste x ist that would constitute a link of transition— as being m ore eccentricthan Saturn , and less so than the nearest of the com ets. N otvery longafter was discovered by Hersche l (the father) the great planet Uranus,or (as it was called by the discoverer in a spirit ofgratitude tohis patron)the Georgium S idus. This discovery was so far a justification ofKant’sconjecture ; which conjecture was altogether an apriortspeculation , l ikethatwhich led to the discovery ofN eptune— that is, it did notby one iotarestupon any experim ental hint, b utupon necessities apriori.

T HE LAST DAYS or KAN T . 113

It was not only in the character of a com pan ion thatKan t shon e , b utalso as a m ost courteous and liberal host

,

who had n o greater pleasure than in se e ing his gue stshappy and jovial , and rising with exhilarated spirits from

th e m ixed pleasure s— in tellectual and l iberal ly sen sual— of

his Platon ic banquets. Chiefly, perhaps, with a view to

the sustain ing ofgen ial hilarity, he showed him se lf som e

what ofan artist in the com position ofhis din n er partie s .

Two rule s there were which he obviously observed,and I

m ay say invariably : the first was,that the com pany should

b e m iscellan eous ; this for the sake of securing sufficien tvariety to the conversation : and accord ingly his partie spresented as m uch varie ty as the world ofKon igsberg afforded, be ing drawn from all varie tie s of life— m en in

office,profes sors, physician s, clergym en , and en lightened

m erchants . H is second rule was,to have a due balan ce

ofyoung m en,frequen tly ofvery young m en

,sele cted from

the studen ts ofthe un iversity, in order to im pre ss a m ovem ent of gaiety and juven ile playfuln ess on the conversation ; an additional m otive for which , as I have reason to

be lieve,was, that in this way he w ithdrew his m ind from

the sadn ess which som e tim es ove rshadowed it,for the early

deaths ofsom e young friends whom he loved.A nd this leads m e to m en tion a singular feature in

Kan t ’s way ofexpressing his sym pathy with his friends ins ickn ess. So long as the danger was imm in en t, he testified a restless anxiety

,m ade perpe tual inquiries

,waited

with impatien ce for the crisis,and som etim es could n ot

pursue his customary labours from agitation of m ind .

Butno soon er was the patien t’s death announ ced,than he

recovered his com posure , and assum ed an air of sterntranquillity— alm ost ofindifferen ce . The reason was, thatb e viewed life in gen eral , and therefore that particular

E 2

114 T HE LAST DAYS or KAN T .

affe ction oflife which we call sickness, as a state ofoscillation and perpetual change , betwe en which and the fluctu

ating sympathies of hope and fear, there was a naturalproportion that just ified them to the reason ; whereasdeath— as a perm an en t state that adm itted ofno more and

no less,that term inated all anxiety, and for ever e x tin .

guished the agitation s of suspen se— he regarded as not

adapted to any state of fe e ling, b ut on e of the sam e

enduring and un changing character. However,all this

phiIOSOphic heroism gave way on on e occasion ; for many

person s will rem ember the tum ultuous grief which b em an ifested upon the death ofMr Ehrenb oth

,ayoung man

ofvery fin e understanding and exten sive attainm en ts, forwhom he had the greate s t affection . A nd naturally ithappen ed , in so long a life as his, in Spite ofhis providen trule for se lecting his social compan ion s as much as possibleam ongst the young

,that he had to m ourn for many a

heavy loss that could n ever b e supplied to him .

T o return , however, to the course of his day, imm e

diately after the term ination of his dinn er party, Kan twalked out for exercise ; b ut on this occasion he n evertook any compan ion ; partly, perhaps, because he thoughtit right, after so m uch convivial and colloquial re laxation .

to pursue his and partly (as I happen to

M rWasiansk i is wrong. To pursue his m editations under these circum stances m ight, perhaps, b e an inclination of Kant’s to which heyi e lded, butnoton e which he would justify or erect into amaxim . He

disapproved of eating alone, or solipstsmns convictorit, as he calls it, onthe principle , that aman woul d b e apt, if not called off by the businessand pleasure ofa social party, to think too much or too closely, an ex er

cise which he considered very injurious to the stomach during the firstprocess of digestion. On the sam e prin ciple he disapproved ofwalkingor riding alone ; the doub le ex ercise of thinking and of bodily agitation,carried on simultan eous ly, being calculated, as he conceived, to press toohard upon the stomach.

116 THE LAST D AYS or KAN T .

le ss,and at length found him self positively unable to

pursue his even ing m e d itation s. Fortunately, the pro~

prietor ofthe garden was a ve ry con siderate and obligingperson , who had, besides, a high regard for Kan t ; and,accordingly, upon a represen tation ofthe case be ing made

to him,he gave orders that the poplars should b e cropped.

This was don e ; the old tower ofL6b en ichtwas again e x

posed; Kan t recovered his equan im ity, and on ce m ore

found him self able to pursue his twilight m editation s in

peace .

After the candles were brought, Kan t prosecuted hisstudies till n early ten o

’

clock . A quarter- of- an - hour b eforeretiring for the n ight

,he withdrew his m ind as much as

possible from every class ofthoughts which demanded anyexertion or en ergy of attention

,on the prin ciple , that by

s timulating and exciting him too m uch,such thoughts

would b e apt to cause wakefuln ess; and the slightest interference with his customary hour offalling asleep was inthe highest degre e unpleasan t to him . Happily

,this was

with him a very rare occurren ce . H e undressed him selfw ithout his servan t’s assistan ce ; b ut in such an order

,and

with such a Roman regard to decorum and the rb ! gin-

ar,

that he was always ready ata m om en t’s warn ing to makehis appearan ce without embarrassm en t to him self or toothers . This done

,he lay down on a mattress

,and

wrapped him self upin a quilt, which in summ er was alwaysofcotton ; in autum n, ofwool ; atthe setting—in ofwin ter

,

he used both ; and, again st very severe cold, he protectedhim self by on e of cider- down

,of which the part which

covered his Shoulders was not stuffed with feathers, b utpadded, or rather Wadded closely with layers of wool .Long practice had taught him a very dexterous m ode of

nesting and enswathing him self in the bedclothes. First of

THE LAST DAYS or KAN T . 7

all,he sat down on the bedside ; then w ith an agile m otion

he vaulted obliquely into his lair; n ext he drew on e corn e rof the bedclothes under his left shoulder, and, passing itbelow his back, brought it round so as to rest under hisright shoulder; fourthly, by a particular tour d

’

adresse,he

operated on the other corn er in the sam e way ; and flu

ally con trived to roll it round his whole person . Thusswathed l ike a m umm y, or (as

'

I used to te l l him ) self- involved like the s ilk-worm in its cocoon

,he awaited the

approach of sle ep, which gen erally cam e on imm ediately.

For Kan t’s health was exquisite ; notm ere n egative health,

or the absen ce ofpain,and ofirritation

,and also ofmal—az

’

se

(e ither ofwhich, though not pain ,” is often worse to bear),

b ut a state of positive pleasurable sen sation , and a con

scious pos session of all his vital activities . Accordingly,when packed upfor the n ight in the way I have described,he would often ejaculate to him self (as he used to tell usat dinn er) I s it possible to con ce ive ahum an be ing withm ore p erfe ct health than myself 12 I n fact

,such was the

purity of his l ife,and such the happy condition of his

s ituation,that n o un easy passion ever arose to excite him

,

n or care to harass,nor pain to awake him . Even in the

severest win ter, his sleeping- room was without a fire ; on lyin his latter years he yie lded so far to the en treaties ofhis friends as to allow ofavery small on e . Al l nursing orself- indulgence found no quarter with Kan t . In fact

,five

m inutes, in the coldest weather, sufficed to supersede thefirst chill of the b ed, by the diffusion of a gen eral glowover his person . If he had any occasion to leave hisroom in the n ight- tim e (for it was always kept dark dayand n ight, summ er and winter), he guided him self by a

rope,which was duly attached to his bedpost every night,

and carried into the adjoin ing apartm ent.


Kan t n ever perspired,’ n ight or day. Yet it was astoishing how m uch heat he supported habitually in his

study,and

,in fact

,was n ot easy if it wan ted b ut on e de

gre e ofthis heat. Seventy~five degrees ofFahrenhe it was

the invariable temperature ofthis room in which he chieflylived ; and if it fell below that poin t, n o m atter at whats eason ofthe year, he had it raised artificially to the usualstandard . I n the heats ofsumm er he wen t thin ly dre ssed,and invariably in Silk stockings ; yet, as even this dre sscould n otalways secure him again st perspirin g when en

This appears less extraordinary, con s idering the description ofKant’sperson , given originally by Reichardt, about eight years after his death .

“ Kant, says this writer,

“was drier than dust [if so, he was worse

than Dr Dry-as- dust, whom else w e gen erally place at the head of his

category], both in body and m ind. His person was small ; and possiblyam ore m eagre , arid, parched anatomy of a man has notappeared uponthis earth . The upper part of his face was grand; forehead lofty andserene, nose elegantly turned, eyes brilliant and pen etrating; b utexpressing powerfully the coarsest sensuality, which in him displayed itselfbyimm oderate addiction to eating and drinking.

”This last feature ofhis

temperam ent is, beyond adoubt, here expressedmuch too harsh ly. Therewere b uttwo things on earth— viz. , coffee and tobacco— for which Kanthad an imm oderate liking; and from both of those, under som e notionthat they were unwholesom e , it is notorious that general ly he abstain ed .

By the way, Kant’s indisposition to perspire, taken in conn ection withhis exquisite health, may serve perhaps to refute (or, at least, to throwstrong doubts upon) a dark fancy, which has been som etim es insinuatedas to the m isery which desolated the life of Cowper the poet. I knewpersonally several of Cowper’s n earest friends and relatives - one of

whom, by the way, a brilliant and accomplished barrister, with a splen

did fortune , shot him selfunder no other impulse than that of pureennui, or tazdium s ites , or, in fact, furious rebellion against the odiousm onotony oflife . d etm e harum quotidianarum formaram this washis outcry. Ah

,wherefore should Thursday b e such a servilefac- sim ile

ofW ednesday ? This, however, argued a taint ofinsan ity in the fam ily.

But, said som e people , that taint (presum ing it to exist) rested upon theincapacity ofperspiring. Cowper could notperspire . This I know to b ea fact; and connecting it with Cowper’s con stitutional tendency to man ia,one m ight fancy the on e peculiarity tob e the cause ofthe other. But, on

the other hand, here is Kant equally non -perspiring, who never betrayedany tendency to mania.


i n the army, m arched into his m aster’s room with the air

ofa sen tin e l on duty, and cried aloud, in a m il itary ton e ,“M r Profe ssor

,the tim e is com e .

” This summ on s Kan tinvariably obeyed without on e m om en t’s delay, as a sol

dier does the word ofcommand— n ever, under any c ircum

stan ces, allow ing him se lf a respite,n ot even under the rare

accident ofhaving passed a sleepless n ight. A s the clockstruck five , Kan t was seated atthe breakfast - table , wherehe drank what he called one cup of tea; and n o doubt hethought it such; b ut the fact was, that, in part from hishab it of reverie , and in part also for the purpose of re

freshing its warm th, he filled up his cup so often,that in

gen eral b e is supposed to have drunk two, three , or som eunknown number. Imm ediately after

,he sm oked a pipe

oftobacco (the on ly on e which he allowed him se lf throughthe ent ire day), b ut so rapidly

,that a pile ofreliques par

tially aglow remain ed un sm oked. D uring this operationhe thought over his arrangem ents for the day, as he haddone the even ing before during twilight. About seven heusually wen t to his lecture - room

,and from that he return ed

to his writing- table . Precisely at three - quarters beforeon e

,he arose from his chair

,and called aloud to the cook,

“ It has struck three - quarters . The m ean ing of whichsummon s was this z— At dinn er

,and imm ediately after

taking soup, it was his con stan t practice to swallow whathe called a dram

,which con sisted e ither of Hungarian

wine , ofRhen ish, of a cordial, or (in default of these) ofthe English com pound called B ishop. A. flask or a j ug of

this was brought up by the cook on the proclam ation of

the three- quarters. Kant hurried with it to the din ingroom

, poured outhis quantum ,left it standing in readiness

(covered, however, with paper, to preven t its be com ingvapid), and then went back to his study, where he awaited


the arrival of his guests, whom to the latest period of hislife he n ever re ce ived otherwise than in full dress.Thus we com e round again to dinner, and the reader has

now an accurate picture of Kant’s day, according to theusual succession of its changes. T o him the m onotony ofthis succession was not burden som e

,and probably contri

buted,with the un iform ity ofhis diet, and other habits of

the sam e regularity,to lengthen his life . On this con side

ration,inde ed

,he had com e to regard his health and his old

age as in agreat m easure the product ofhis own exertion s .

He spoke ofhim se lf often under the figure ofa gym nasticartist

, who had con tinued for n early fourscore years to support his balan ce upon the tight - rope of life

,without on ce

swerving to the right or to the left. A nd certain ly, in spiteof every illn ess to which his constitutional tenden cies hadexposed him

,he still kept his position in life trium phan tly.

This anxious attention to his health accounts for thegreat interest which he attache d to all n ew discoveries inm edicin e

,or to n ew ways of theorising on the cld .ones .

As a work of great pretension in both classes,he set the

highest value upon the theory of the Scotch physician ,Brown

,or (as it is usually called, from the Latin ised nam e

of its author) the Brun on ian The ory. N o soon er hadW eikard adopted* and popularised it in Germ any, thanKan t becam e fam iliar with its details. H e con sidered itnot on ly as a great step taken for m edicine , but even forthe gen eral interests of man

,and fan cied that in this he

saw som ething analogous to the course which humannature has he ld in still m ore importan t inquirie s— vizfirst of all

,a con tinual ascen t towards the m ore and m ore

This theorywas afterwards greatly modified in Germany; and, judging from the random glances which I throw on these subjects, I believethat in this recast it still keeps its ground in that country.

F— I II .

‘

I’

JZ THE LAST DAYS or KANT .

e laborate ly complex, and then a treading back, on its own

steps, towards the s im ple and e lem en tary. D r Beddoes’

Essays, also, for producing by art and for curing pulm o

nary consum ption , and the m ethod of Re ich for curingfevers, m ade a powerful im pression upon him ; which, how

ever, declin ed as those nove lties (espe cial ly the last) began

to s ink in credit.’ As to D r Jenn er’s discovery ofvaccination

,he was less favourably disposed to it; he appre

hended dangerous con sequen ce s from the absorption of a

brutal m iasma in to the human blood, or at least into thelym ph; and at any rate he thought that, as a guarante eagainst the variolous infe ction , it required a much longer

prob ation nl' Groundless as all these views were, it was

It seem s singular, b ut in fact illustrates perhaps the dom in ion of

chance and accident in distributing so unequally and disproportionatelythe attention of learned inquirers to important and suggestive n ovelties;and in part also it proclaim s the very imperfect diffusion in those days,through scientific journal s, ofuseful discoveries— that, in the treatm entoffevers, Kant seem s n ever to have heard ofthe cold-water afiusion

”

introduced by Dr Currie ; nor again ofthe revolutionary principles applied by Dr Kentish and others to the treatm ent ofburns. Dr Beddoes,who married a Sister ofMiss Edgeworth ’

s, and was the father ofBeddoesthe poet (aman of real gen ius), Kan t had heard of

,and regarded with

much interest . In which there was an unconscious justice . For Dr

Beddoes read extensive ly am ongst German literature in the firstdecenn ium of this century, when a few dozen s composed the entire body ofsuch students in Great Britain . H e was, in fact, the first man who

uttered the nam e ofJean Paul Richter in an English book; as I m yse lfwas the first (December, 1821)who gave in English aspecim en ofRichter’sstyle . (Itwas a chance extract

, such as I could command atthe tim e,from his Flege l Beddoes

,m eantim e, an offset from the school

(ifschool it could b e called)ofthe splendid Erasmus Darwin , Kant knewand adm ired. ButDarwin , the leader in this freethinking school, Kanthad notapparently ever heard of.

Kant, in his primary objections to the vaccine inoculation, will b econfounded with Dr Rowley, and other anti- vaccin e fanatics. But thiseugnt not to h ide from us, that, in his inclination to regard

'

vaccination

as no m ore than a temporary guarantee again st smal l -pox , Kant’s saga

city has been largely justified by the event . It is now agreed tha’ vac


such cases,he had a perfect m emory for the rem ote events

ofhis life , and could repeat with great readin ess very longpassages from German or Latin poem s, e specially from the

E n e id,whilst the very words that had be en uttered b ut

a m om en t before dropped away from his rem embran ce .

The past cam e forward with the distin ctn e ss and l ive lin ess

of an imm ediate existen ce , whilst the presen t faded awayinto the obscurity of infin ite distan ce .

Another S ign ofhis m ental decay was the weakn ess withwhich he now began to theorise . H e accoun ted for everything by e lectricity. A singular m ortality at this tim e

prevai led am ongst the cats ofVienna,Basle, Copenhagen ,

and other places widely rem ote . Oats be ing so em in en tlyan e lectric an im al, ofcourse he attributed this epizootic toe lectricity. During the sam e period he persuaded himself that a peculiar configuratl on of clouds prevailed; thishe took as a collateral proof of his e lectrical hypothe sis .

His own headaches,too

,which in all probability were a

m ere rem ote effect ofold age, and a direct on e ofan inab il ity " to think as easily and as severely as form erly

,he e x

plained upon the sam e prin ciple . A nd this was a n otionofwhich his friends were n otanxious to disabuse him ; b ecause , as som ething ofthe sam e character ofweather (andtherefore probably the sam e gen eral distribution of the

e lectric power) is found to prevail for whole cycles ofyears,entrance upon another cycle he ld outto him som e prospectofrelief. A delusion , which secured the com forts ofhope,was the next best thing to an actual system ofrelief; and

MrWasianski is probably quite in the wrong here. Ifthe hindran

ces which nature presented to the act of th inking were now on the in

creas e , outhe other hand, the disposition to thmk , by his own acknowledgment, was on the wan e. The power and the habit altering in proportion , there is no case made outofthat disturbed equilibrium towhichapparently he would attribute the headaches.

rm ; LAST DAYS or KANT . 2b

aman who, in such circum stan ces, is cured ofhis delusion .

cuz'

demptus per vim mentz'

s gratzissz'

mus error,

”m ight reason

ably have exclaim ed,P ol, me occz

'

dz'

stzls,

Possibly the reader m ay suppose that, in this particular

in stan ce of charging his own de cays upon the state of the

atm osphere,Kan t was actuated by the weakn ess ofvan ity,

or som e unwill ingn e ss to face the real fact that his powerswere decaying. But this was notthe case . H e was per

fectly aware ofhis own condition ; and, as early as 1799, hesaid, in m y presen ce , to a party ofhis friends,

“Gen tlem en,

I am old,and weak

,and childish

,and you must treat m e

as a child .

”Or perhaps it m ay b e thought that he shrank

from the contem plation ofdeath, which, as apoplexy seem edto b e threaten ed by the pain s in his head, m ight have hap~

pen ed any day. But n e ither was this the case . H e n ow

l ived in a con tinual state of resignation,and prepared for

any decre e whatever of Providen ce . Gen tlem en,

”said

he,on e day to his guests, I do n ot fear to die . I assure

you, as in the presen ce ofGod,that if

,on this very n ight,

suddenly the summ on s to death were to reach m e , I shouldhear it with calm n ess

,should raise m y hands to heaven , and

say, Blessed b e God 1 Were it inde ed possible that awhis

per such as this could reach my ear— Fourscore years thouhast lived

,in which tim e thou hast inflicted m uch evil upon

thy fe llow-m en , the case would b e otherwise .

” Whosoever

has heard Kan t speak of his own death, will bear witness

to the ton e of earn est sm cerity which, on such occasion s,marked his m anner and gestures.A third Sign of his decaying faculties was, that he now

lost all accurate m easure oftim e . On e m inute , nay, without exaggeration , a m uch less space of tim e

,stretched out

in his apprehen sion ofthings to awearisom e duration . Ofthis I can give on e rather amusing instan ce , which was of

126 THE LAST DAYS or KAN T.

con stan t recurren ce . At the beginn ing ofthe last year ofhis life

,he fe ll in to a custom of taking, imm ediate ly after

dinn er, 9. cup of coffee , e specially on those days when ithappen ed that I was of his party. A nd such was the importance b e attached to this little pleasure , that he wouldeven m ake a m em orandum beforehand, in the blank- paper

book I had given him ,that on the n ext day I was to din e

with him,and con sequen tly that there was to b e cofi

'

e e .

Som etim es it would happen that the in terest of conversation carried him past the tim e atwhich he fe lt the cravingfor it; and this I was not sorry to observe

,as I feared that

coffee,which he had n ever be en accustom ed to)

“m ight dis

turb his rest atn ight. But,if this did nothappen

,then com

m enced a scen e of som e in tere st. Coffee m ust b e brought“upon the spot ” (a word he had con stan tly in his m outh

How this happen ed to b e the case in Germany, Mr Wasiansk i has

not explained. P erhaps the English m erchants at Kfinigsb erg, beingam ongst Kant’s oldest and m ost intimate friends, had early fam iliarisedhim with the practice of drinking tea, and with other Engl ish tastes.However, Jachmann tells us that Kant was extravagantly fond ofcoffee,b utforced him selfto abstain from it under a notion that it was very unwholesorhe ; b utwhether on any other separate ground beyond that ofitstendency to defraud m en ofsleep, is not explained. A far better reasonfor abstain ing from coffee, than any visionaryfancies about its in salubrity,rests in England upon the villanous m ode of its preparation . In respectto cookery, and every conceivable culinary process, the English (and inex aggerated degree the Scotch) are the m ost uncul tured of the human

race . Itwas an old saying of a sarcastic Frenchman on visiting thatbarbarous city of London (forem ost upon earth for many great qualities,b utthe m ost barbarous upon earth (except Edinburgh and Glasgow)forall culinary arts) Behold said the Frenchman , “a land where theyhave six ty religions (alluding to the num erous subdivision s ofProtestan tdissent), and on ly one sauce .

”Now this was a fib : for, wretched as

England is and ever was in this respect, she could certain ly count twentyfive . But

, m eantim e, what would the Frenchman have thought ofScotland, that absolutely has notone ? Even to this day, the horrible fish,cal led haddy throughout Scotland, is eaten w ithout any sauce whatever;by which m eans its atrocities are made ten times more distinguishably


of life . H itherto, as I have already m ention ed, he went

to b ed at ten , and rose a little before five . The latter

practice he still observed, b utnot the other. I n 1802 he

retired as early as nine, and afterwards still earlier. He

found him self so much refreshed by this addition to his

rest, that atfirst he was disposed to utter a ivgnm , as over

som e great discovery in the art of restoring exhausted

nature : b utafterwards, on pushing it stillo farther, he did

not find the success an swer his expectations. His walks

he now lim ited to afew turn s in the king’s gardens, whichwere atno great distan ce from his own house. I n orderto walk m ore firm ly

,he adopted a pe culiar m ethod of

stepping : he carried his foot to the ground, not forward,and obliquely, b ut perpendicularly, and with a kind of

stam p, so as to secure a larger basis, by setting down theen tire sole aton ce . Notwithstanding this precaution , uponone occasion he fell in the street. H e was quite unable toraise him self; and two young ladies, who saw the acciden t,ran to his assistance. With his usual graciousn ess ofm ann er he thanked them fervently for the ir assistan ce, andpresented one of them with a rose which he happen ed tohave in his hand. This lady was not personally kn own toKan t; but she was greatly del ighted with his little presen t,and still keeps the rose as a frail m em orial of her transitory interview with the great philosopher.

This acciden t, as I have reason to think, was the causeof his hen ceforth renoun cing exercise altogether. Alllabours, even that ofreading, were now perform ed slowly,and with man ifest effort ; and those which cost him anyconsiderable bodily exertion becam e very exhausting.

His feet refused to do the ir office m ore and m ore ; he fellcontinually, both when m oving across the room

,and even

when standing still : yet he seldom suffered from these


falls; and he con stan tly laughed at them ,main tain ing

that itwas im possible he could hurt him self, from the e x

trem e lightn e ss of his person , which was indeed by thist im e the m erest shadow ofa m an . Very often , especiallyin the m orn ing

,he dropped asleep in his chair from pure

wearin ess and exhaustion : on the se occasion s he was aptto fal l upon the floor, from which he was unable to raisehim se lf up, un til acciden t brought on e of his servan ts orhis friends in to the room . Afterwards these falls werepreven ted

,by substituting a chair with circular supports,

that m etand clasped in fron t.These un seasonable dozings exposed him to another

danger. He fell repeatedly, whilst reading, with his headinto the candles ; a cotton n ightcap which he wore wasinstan tly in a blaze

,and flam ing about his head. When

ever this happen ed,Kan t behaved with great presen ce of

m in d. D isregarding the pain,he se ized the blazing cap,

drew it from his head, laid it quietly on the floor,and trod

out the flam es with his feet. Yet,as this last actbrought

his dressing- gown into a dangerous n e ighbourhood to theflam es, I changed the form of his cap, persuaded him to

arrange the candle s differen tly, and had a large vase of

water placed con stantly by his s ide; and in this way Iapplied a rem edy to a danger which would else probablyhave proved fatal to him .

From the sallies of impatience which I have describedin the case ofthe coffee

,there was reason to fear that, with

the in creasing infirm ities ofKan t,would grow upa gen eral

waywardn ess and obstinacy oftem per. For my own sake ,therefore , and not le ss for his, I n ow laid down on e rulefor my future conduct in his house : which was

,that I

would, on no ocasion, allow m y reverence for him to inter

13) THE LAST DAYS or KAN T .

fe re with the firm e st expression of what se em ed the just

opin ion on subjects re lating to his own health; and, in

cases of great im portan ce , that I would make no com pro

m ise with his particular hum ours, but in sist, not on ly onmy view of the case , b utalso on the practical adoption of

my views ; or, if this were re fused to m e, that I would

take m y departure at on ce , and n ot b e m ade respon siblefor the com fort ofaperson whom I had no power to influe nce . A nd this behav iour on m y part it was that won Kan t

’sconfiden ce ; for there was nothing which disgusted him so

m uch as any approach to sycophan cy or to com plian ces oftim idity. A s his imbecil ity in creased

,he becam e daily

m ore l iable to m ental de lusion s ; and, in particular, he fellinto m any fan tastic n otion s about the con duct ofhis ser

vants,and

,con sequen tly

,som etim es in to a peevish m ode

of treating them . Upon these occasion s I gen erally oh

served a de ep silen ce . But now and then he would askm e for my opin ion ; and when this happen ed, I did n ot

scruple to say, Ingenuously, then , Mr Professor,I think

that you are in the wrong.

”You think so he would

reply calm ly, at the sam e tim e asking for m y reason s,

which he would listen to with great patien ce and candour.

Indeed, it was evident that the firm estopposition , so longas it rested upon assignable grounds and prin ciples, was »upon his regard; whilst his own nobleness of characterstill m oved him to habitual con tem pt for tim orous and

partial acquiescen ce in his Opin ion s,even when his infirm i

t ies m ade him m ost anxious for such acquiescen ce .

Earlier in life Kan t had be en l ittle used to contradiction .

H is superb understanding, his brillian cy in conversation ,founded in part upon his ready and som e tim es rathercaustic wit, and in part upon his prodigious comm and of

knowledge— the air ofnoble self- confidence which the con


s erved in the Prussian army; on quitting which he enteredthe service ofKan t. I n this situation he had l ived aboutforty years ; and, though always dull and stupid, had, in

the early part of this period, discharged his dutie s withtolerable fidelity. But latterly, presum ing upon his ownindispensablene ss, from his perfect knowledge of al l the

dom estic arrangem ents and upon his m aster’s weakn ess,

he had fal len into great irregularities and habitual n egle cts.

Kant had been obliged, therefore , of late to threaten re

peatedly that he would discharge him . I, who kn ew that

Kant,though on e of the kindest -hearted m en , was also

one ofthe firm est, foresaw that this discharge , on ce given ,would b e irrevocable : for the word ofKan t was as sacredas other m en ’

s oaths . Con sequently,upon every opportu

n ity I remon strated with Lam pe on the fol ly ofhis con

duct; and his wife joined m e on these occasion s . Inde ed,it was high tim e that a change Should be m ade in som equarter; for it now becam e dangerous to leave Kan t, whowas con stantly falling from weakn ess

,to the care of an

old ruflian, who was him self aptto fall from in toxication .

The fact was, that from the m om en t I undertook the

managem en t of Kan t’s affairs,Lam pe saw there was an

end to his old system ofabusing his master’s confiden ce inpe cun iary affairs

,and to all the other advan tages which he

took of his helpless S ituation . This m ade him desperate:and he behaved worse and worse ; un til on e m orn ing, inJanuary, 1802, Kan t told m e

,that hum iliating as he felt

such aconfession , the factwas, that Lam pe had just treatedhim in away which he was asham ed to repeat. I was toom uch shocked to distress him by inquiring in to the particulars. Butthe re sult was

,that Kan t now insisted; tem

perately b ut firm ly, on Lam pe’s dism issal . Accordingly,an ew servant, nam edKaufmann,was imm ediate ly engaged;

THE LAST DAYS or KANT'

. 133

and on the following day Lampe was discharged, with ahandsom e pen sion for l ife .

H ere I m ust m en tion a l ittle circum stance which doeshonour to Kan t’s ben evolen ce . I n his last will, on the

assum ption that Lam pe would con tinue with him to his

death,he had m ade a very liberal provision for him ; b ut

upon this n ew arrangem en t ofthe pension , which was totake

'

effe ct imm ediately, it becam e n ecessary to revokethat part of his will, which he did in a separate codicilthat began thus I n con sequen ce of the m isb ehaviourof my servan t Lam pe

,I think fit

,

”&c. But soon after

,

con sidering that such a solem n and d e liberate record of

Lam pe ’s m isconduct m ight b e seriously injurious to hisinterests, he can celled the passa e , and expressed it insuch a way, that no trace rem ain ed behin d of his justdispleasure . A nd his ben ign nature was gratified withknow ing that

,this on e sen ten ce be ing blotted out

,there

remain ed n o other in all his num erous writings,publ ished

or confiden tial, which spoke the language of anger,or

could leave any ground for doubting that he died incharity with al l the world. Upon Lam pe ’s calling to

dem and a written character,he was, however, a good

deal em barrassed ; Kan t’s we ll - known reveren ce for truth

so stem and inexorable be ing,in this in stan ce

,arm ed

against the first im pulse s of his kindne ss. Long and

anxiously he sat, with the certificate lying be fore him ,

debating how he should fill up the blanks. I was present ;but in such a matter I did not presum e to suggest any advice . At last he took his pen , and filled up the blank as

follows : has served m e long and faithfully

(for Kan t was'

notaware that he had robbed him) butdid not display those particular qualification s which fittedhim for waiting on an old and infirm man like myself.”


This scene ofdisturbance over, which to Kan t, alover ofpeace and tranquil l ity, caused a Shock that gladly he wouldhave been spared, it was fortunate that n o other of thatnature occurred during the re st of his l ife . Kaufm an n ,the successor of Lampe , turn ed out to b e a respe ctableand upright m an

,and soon con ce ived a great attachm en t

to his master. Hen ceforth things wore a n ew face inKan t’s fam i ly : by the rem oval of on e of the be l ligeren ts,peace was on ce m ore restored am ongst his servan ts ; forh i therto there had be en e ternal wars betwe en Lam pe andthe cook. Som etim es it was Lam pe that carried a war of

aggre ssion in to the cook’s territory of the k itchen ; som e

tim es it was the cook that revenged these in sults, by sallying outupon Lam pe in the n eutral groun d ofthe hal l, orinvaded him even in his own san ctuary of the butler’spantry. The uproars were everlasting ; and thus far itwas fortunate for the peace of the philosopher

,that his

hearing had begun to fail ; by which m ean s he was sparedmany an exhibition ofhateful passion s and ruflian violen ce ,that ann oyed his guests and friends . But n ow all thingshad changed : deep silen ce re ign ed in the pan try; thekitchen rang no m ore with martial alarum s ; and the hallwas unvexed with Skirm ish or pursuit. Yet it may b ereadily supposed that to Kan t

,atthe age ofseventy- e ight,

changes, even for the better, were notwe lcom e : so in ten sehad been the un iform ity of his life and habits, that theleast innovation in the arrangem en t of article s as triflingas a penkn ife or a pair ofscissors disturbed him ; and not

m ere ly if they were pushed two or three in ches out of

their customary position, b ut even if they were laid a

little awry ; and as to larger objects, such as chairs, &c.,any

dislocation of the ir usual arrangem en t, any tran sposition ,or addition to the ir number

, perff’

tly confounded him ;


instructed us in the arrangem en t of the breakfast- table.But this was a m ystery revealed to non e b utLam pe . A t

length Kan t took this task upon him self; and apparentlyall was n ow settled to his satisfaction . Yet still it struckm e that he was under som e em barrassm en t or con strain t.Upon this I said that, with his perm 1ss1on

, I would takea cup oftea

,and afterwards sm oke a pipe with him . H e

accepted my offer with his usual courteous dem eanour; b utseem ed unable to fam iliarise him self with the novelty ofhis s ituation . I was at this tim e S itting directly oppositeto him ; and at last he frankly told m e

,but with the kind

e st and m ost apologetic air,that he was really under the

n ecessity ofbegging that I would sit out ofhis sight ; forthat

,having sat alon e at the breakfast - table for con side

rab ly m ore than half-a- cen tury,he could notabruptly adapt

his m ind to a change in this respect; and he found histhoughts very sen sibly distracted. I did as he desired; thes ervan t retired in to an an teroom

,where he waited within

call; and Kan t re covered his won ted com posure . Just thesam e scene passed over again

,when I called atthe sam e

hour on a fin e summ er m orn ing som e m onths after.

Henceforth all wen t right : or,if occasionally som e little

m istake occurred,Kan t showed him self very con siderate

and indulgent, and would remark Spontan eously, that an ew servan t could not be expected to know all his waysand hum ours. I n on e respect, however, this n ew m an

adapted him self to Kant’s scholarlike taste in away whichLampe was in capable of doing. Kan t was som ewhat fastidious in m atters ofpronunciation ; and Kaufmann had agreat facility in catching the true sound of Latin words,the titles ofbooks, and the nam es or designation s ofKant

’sfriends : not on e ofwhich accomplishm ents could Lam pe ,the m ost insufferable of blockheads

,ever attain to. In


particular, I have been told by Kant’s old friends

,that for

the Space of thirty- e ight years,during which he had been

in the habit of reading the n ewspaper pub lished by Hartung, Lam pe delivered it w ith the sam e iden tical blunde ron every day of publication M r Professor, here is

Hartmann’s journal .” Upon which Kan t would reply,

“ Eh ! whatl— What’s that you say ? Hartmann ’s journal ? I tell you, it is n ot Hartmann ’s

,b ut Hartung’s

n ow,repeat after m e— not Hartmann ’s

,b ut Hartung’s .

”

Then Lam pe,looking sulky

,and drawing him self up with

the stiff air of a soldier on guard,and in the very sam e

m onotonous ton e with which he had been used to sing out

his challenge of W120 goes there ? would roar,

n otHartm ann

’

s b utHartung’s .

” “N ow again ! ” Kan t would sayon which again Lam pe roared, “ N ot Hartmann ’s

, b ut

Hartung’s .” Now a third tim e,cried Kan t : on which

for a third tim e the unhappy Lam pe would howl out, intruculent despair

,

“N otHartm an n ’s, but Hartung’s.” A nd

this whim sical scene of parade duty was continually re

peated : duly as the day of publication cam e round (viz.,twice a-we ek), the irreclaimable old dun ce was put throughthe sam e m anoeuvres

,which were as invariably followed

by the sam e blunder on the n ext . So that this in corri

gib le blockhead m ust have repeated the sam e unvaryingblunder for a hundred and four tim es annually e.,

twicea-week), m ultiplied into thirty- e ight

,as the num ber of

years. For m ore than on e -halfofm an ’s n ormal life underthe scriptural allowan ce , had this n ever - enough - to - b e

adm ired old donkey foundered pun ctually on the sam e identical rock. I n spite , however, of this advan tage in the

n ew servan t,and a general superiority to his predecessor,

Kan t’s nature was too kind, too good, and too indulgen tto all people ’s infirm ities but his own, not to m iss the

F 2


voice and the old fam iliar face ” that he had been accus

tom ed to for forty years . A nd I m et w ith what struckm e as an afl

'

e cting in stan ce of Kan t’s yearn ing afte r his

old good-for - nothing servan t in his m em orandum -book :

other people record what they wished to rem ember ; butKan t had here re corded what he was to forget. M em .

February, 1802, the nam e ofLam pe m ust now b e rem em

bered no m ore .

”

In the spring ofthis year, 1802, I advised Kan t to takethe air. It was very long sin ce he had been outof- doors

,

”

and walking was n ow out ofthe question . But I thoughtthat perhaps the m otion of a carriage and the air m ighthave a chan ce of reviving him . On the power ofvernals ights and sounds I did n otm uch rely; for these had longceased to affe ct him . Of all the change s that spring carriesw ith it

,there was on e on ly that now in te re sted Kan t ; and

he longed for it with an eagern ess and inten sity of e x pec ‘

tation, that it becam e alm ost pain ful to witn ess : this was

the re turn of a little bird (sparrow was it, or robin - red

breast that sang in his garden,and before his window.

This bird, e ither the sam e,or on e ofayounger gen eration ,

had sung for years in the sam e s ituation ; and Kan t grewun easy when the cold weather

,lasting longer than usual,

retarded its re turn . Like Lord Bacon , inde ed, he had a

child- like love for birds in gen eral ; and in particular hetook pain s to en courage the sparrows to build above thewindows ofhis study ; and when this happen ed (as it oftendid, from the deep silen ce which prevailed in the room ),he watched their proce edings with the delight and the

Wasianski here return s thanks to som e unknown person , who, having observed that Kant in his latter walks took pleasure in lean ingagain st a particular wall to view the prospect, had caused aseat to b efixed at that point for his use.


the streets which led hom ewards, there was a gen eral rushfrom al l quarters in that direction ; and, when we turn edinto the street where the house stood, we found it alreadychoked up with people . As we slowly drew up to thedoor, a lane was form ed in the crowd, through which Kan twas led, I and my friend supporting him on our arm s.Looking atthe crowd, I observed the faces of many person s of rank and distinguished strangers, som e ofwhom

now saw Kan t for the first tim e, and many of them for

the last.A s the winter of 1802 - 3 approached

,he com plain ed

m ore than ever of an affe ction of the stomach,which no

m edical man had been able to m itigate,or even to e x

plain . The winter passed over in a complain ing way; hewas weary of life, and longed for the hour of dism ission .

“ I can b e ofservice to the world no m ore,

” said he,

“and

am a burden to myself. Often I endeavoured to cheerhim by the anticipation of excursion s that we m ight maketogether when summ er cam e again . On these he calcu

lated with so much ’

earnestn ess,that he had made a regu

lar scale or classification ofthem— 1 . Airings ; 2 . Journ eys,3. Travels. A nd nothing could equal the yearn ing im patience expressed for the com ing of spring and summ er .

not so much for the ir own peculiar attraction s, as becausethey were the season s for trave lling. I n his m em orandumbook he made this note The three summ er m on ths areJun e , July, and August ; m ean ing that they were thethree m on ths for trave lling. A nd in conversation b e e xpressed the feverish strength of his wishes so plaintivelyand affectingly

,that everybody was drawn into powerful

sympathy with him , and wished for som e magical m ean sofantedating the course ofthe season s.During this winter his bedroom was often warm ed.


Tbatwas the room in which he kept his little collection of

books, som ewhere about four hundred and fifty volum es,

chiefly presen tation - copies from the authors. It mayseem strange that Kan t, who read so exten sively, shouldhave n o larger l ibrary; b ut he had less n eed of one thanm ost scholars, having in his earlier years been librarian atthe Royal Library of the Castle; and sin ce then , havingenjoyed from the l iberality of Hartk noch, his publisher

(who, in his turn , had profited by the liberal term s on whichKan t had m ade over to him the copyright ofhis own works),the first sight ofevery n ew book that appeared.

At the close of this winter (that is, in Kan t firstbegan to com plain of unpleasan t dream s

,som etim e s of

very terrific on es,which awaken ed him in great agitation .

Oftentim es m e lodies,which he had heard in earliest youth

sung in the streets ofKb nigsb erg, resounded painfully inhis ears, and dwe lt upon them in a way from which no

efforts ofabstraction could release him . These kept himawake to un seasonable hours; and som etim es, when afterlong watching he had fallen asleep

,however profound his

Sleep m ight b e,it was sudden ly broken up by terrific

dream s,which alarm ed him beyond description . Alm ost

every n ight the bell - rope , which commun icated with a

bell in the room above his own , where his servan t slept,was pulled violently, and .with the utm ost agitation . No

matter how fast the servan t m ight hurry down,he was

alm ost always too late,and was pretty sure to find his

master out of bed, and often m aking his way in terror tosom e other part of the house. The weakn ess of his feetexposed him to such dreadful falls on these occasion s, thatat length (but with much difficulty) I persuaded him to let

his servan t sleep in the sam e room with him se lf.

142 THE LAST DAYS or K'ANT .

The m orbid affection of the stomach, out ofwhich thedreadful dream s arose , began n ow to b e m ore and m ore

distre ssing; and he tried various application s, which he

had form erly been loud in condem n ing, such as a few

drops of rum upon a pie ce of sugar, naphtha,* 850. But

all these were on ly palliative s ; for his advan ced .age pre

cluded the hope of a radical cure . His dream s becam e

con tinual ly m ore appalling : single scen es, or passages inthese dream s

,were sufficien t to com pose the whole course

of m ighty tragedies, the im pression from which was so

profound as to stretch far into his waking hours. Am ongstother phantasm ata m ore Shocking and indescribable

,his

dream s con stan tly represen ted to him the form s of m urderers advan cing to his bedside ; and so agitated was heby the awful train s of phan tom s that swept past himn ightly, that in the first confusion of awaking he gen eral ly m istook his servan t

,who was hurrying to his as

s istance,for a murderer. I n the daytim e we often con

versed upon these shadowy illusion s ; and Kan t, with hisusual spirit of stoical contem pt for n ervous weakn ess of

e very sort, laughed at them ; and, to fortify his own re

solution to contend against them,he wrote down in his

m em orandum -book, No surrender now to pan ics ofdark,

n ess .

” At my suggestion , however, he n ow burn ed a lightin his chamber, so placed as that the rays m ight b e shadedfrom his face . At first he was very averse to this , thoughgradually he becam e recon ciled to it. But that he couldbear it atall, was to m e an expression ofthe great revolution accom plished by this terrific agency of his dream s .

Heretofore, darkness and utter silen ce were the two pillars

For Kant’s particular complaint, as described by other biographers,

aquarter of a grain of opium, every eight hours, would have been the

b est rem edy, perhaps aperfect rem edy.


b lack beer) he was, indeed, the m ost determ in ed en emy.

If ever a man died prematurely, Kan t would say,“He has

been drinking beer, I presum e .

”Or, if another were in

disposed, you m ight b e sure he would ask , But does he

drink beer ? ” A nd,according to the an swer on this poin t,

he regulated his an ticipation s for the patient. Strongbeer

,in short

,b e un iform ly m aintain ed to b e aSlow poison .

Voltaire , by the way, had said to a young physician whodenoun ced coffee under the sam e bad nam e of a “

slowpoison ,

” You’re right there, my friend : slow it is, and horrib ly slow, for I have been drinking it these seven ty years,and it has n ot killed m e yet;

” but this was an an swerwhich

,in the case ofbeer

,Kan t would n otallow of.

On the 22d ofApril, 1803, his birthday, the last whichhe lived to see , was celebrated in a full as sem bly of hisfriends. This festival he had long looked forward to withgreat expectation

,and de lighted even to hear the progress

m ade in the preparation s for it. But,when the day cam e

,

the over- excitem en t and ten sion of expectation se em ed tohave defeated itself. H e tried to appear happy; b utthebustle of a num erous com pany confounded and distressedhim

,and his spirits were man ifestly forced.

"e H e seem edfirst to revive into any real sen se of pleasure at n ight

,

when the com pany had departed,and he was undressing in

his study. H e then talked with much pleasure about thepresents which, as usual, would b e made to his servants onthis occasion ; for Kant was n ever happy him self, un less hesaw all around him happy. H e was a great maker ofpre

The English readerwill here b e reminded ofWordsworth’

s exquisite

Butwe are press’

d by heavy laws5And often , glad no more,

We wear aface ofj oy, becauseWe have been glad cfyore. "


sents; but atthe sam e tim e he had no toleration for thestudied theatrical effect, the accom pan im en t ofform al congratulation s, and the sen tim en tal pathos, with which birthday presen ts are made in Germ anyfi

‘ I n all this,his m ascu

lin e taste gave him a sen se ofsom ethingfade and ludicrous.

The summ er of 1803was now com e , and, visiting Kan ton e day, I was thunderstruck to hear him dire ct m e

,in

the m ost serious ton e, to provide the funds n ecessary foran exten sive fore ign tour. I m ade no opposition

,but

asked his r eason s for such a plan ; he alleged the m iserable sen sation s he had in his stomach

,which were no

longer endurable . Knowing what power over Kan t aquotation from a Roman poe t had always possessed

,I

sim ply replied,

“ Post equitem sedet atra cura;”and for

the present he said n o m ore . Butthe touching and pa

thetic earn estn ess with which he was con tinually ejaculat

ing prayers for warm er weather, m ade it doubtful to m e

whether his wishe s on this poin t ought n ot, partially atleast

,to b e gratified; and I therefore proposed to him a

l ittl e excursion to the cottage we had visited the year b efore .

“Anywhere,

”said he

,

“no m atter whither, provided it

b e far enough .

” Towards the latter end ofJun e, therefore ,

In this, as in many other things, the taste ofKant was entirely English and Roman ; as, on the other hand, som e em in ent Englishm en , I amsorry to say, have, on this very point, shown the effem inacy andfalsettotaste of the Germans. In particular, Coleridge, describing, in “

The

Friend, the custom amongst German children ofmaking presents totheir parents on Christmas Eve (a custom which he unaccountably supposes pecul iar to Ratzeburg), represents the m other as “

weeping aloudfor j oy — the old idiot of a father with “ tears runn ing down his face , "&c. Ste. and all for what ? For a snuff- b ox , apencilcase, or som e articleofj ewel lery. Now , we English agree with Kant on such maudlin displayofstage sentimental ity, and are prone to suspect that papa’s tears are theproduct of rum -punch . T endern ess let us have by all m eans

, and the

deepest you can imagine, b ut upon proportionate occas ions . and withcauses fitted to sustain its dignity.

G - I I I .


w e executed this schem e . On getting in to the carriage;the order of the day w ith Kan t was,

“D istan ce, distan ce .

On ly let us go far enough , said he : b ut scarcely had wereached the city- gates, before the journ ey se em ed alreadyto have lasted too long. On reaching the cottage , wefound coffee waiting for us; b ut he would scarce ly allowhim se lf tim e for drinking it, before he ordered the carriageto the door ; and the journ ey back seem ed in supportablylong to him

,though it was perform ed in som ething less

than twenty m inutes .

“ Is this n ever to have an e nd 2”

was his con tinual exclam ation ; and great was his j oywhen he found him self on ce m ore in his study

,undressed,

and in b ed. A nd for this n ight he slept in peace,and once

again was liberated from the persecution ofdream s .

Soon after he began again to talk ofjourn eys,oftravels

in rem ote coun tries, &c.,and

,in con sequen ce

,we repeated

our form er excursion several tim e s ; and though the cir

cum stances were pretty nearly the sam e on every occas ion

,always term inating in disappoin tm en t as to the

imm ediate pleasure an ticipated, yet, undoubtedly, they

were,on the whole

,salutary to his spirits . I n particular,

the cottage itself,standing under the shelter oftall alders

,

with a valley silen t and solitary stre tched ben eath it,through which a little brook m eandered

,broken by a

waterfall, whose pealing soun d dwe lt pleasantly on the

ear, som etim e s

,on a quiet sunny day, gave a l ive ly de

light to Kan t : and on ce,under acciden tal circum stan ces

of summ er- clouds and sun lights,the little pastoral land

scape sudden ly awaken ed a l ive ly rem embran ce,which

had been long laid asle ep,of a heaven ly summ er m orn

ing in youth, which he had passed in a bower upon thebanks of a r ivulet that ran through the grounds of a.dear and early friend

, Gen . Von Lossow. The strength


lived in a con stant state of stoical preparation for the

worst that could befall him . I was now shocked to think

ofthe degree in which his burden som e sen se ofdependen cewould b e aggravated, if he should totally lose the power

of sight . Even as it was he read and.wrote with great

difficulty : in fact, his writing was little better than thatwhich m ost people can produce as a trial of skill withthe ir eyes shut. From old habits of solitary study

,he

had no pleasure in hearing others read to him ; and hedaily distressed m e by the pathetic earn estn ess ofhis en

treaties that I would have a reading - glass devised for him .

Whatever my own optical Skill could suggest I tried, andthe best Optician s were sen t for

,to bring the ir glasses,

and take his direction s for altering them ; but all was tono purpose .

In this last year of his l ife,Kant very unwillingly re

ceived the visits ofstrangers ; and, un less under particularc ircum stances

,wholly declin ed them . Yet, when trave l

lers had com e a very great way out of the ir road to see

him,I confe ss that I was ata loss how to conduct m yself.

To have refused too pertinaciously,could notbut give m e

the air ofwishing to m ake m yself of importan ce . A nd Im ust acknowledge

,that

,am ongst som e few in stan ces of

im portun ity and coarse expression s of low - bred curiosity,

I witnessed, pretty gen erally in all ranks, a m ost delicatesen sibility to the condition ofthe aged recluse . On sending in the ir cards, they would usually accom pany them bysom e m essage , expressive of the ir unwillingn ess to gratifytheir wish to se e him

,atany risk ofdistressing him . The

fact was, that such visits did distress him much ; for he feltit a degradation to b e exhibited in his helpless state, whenhe was aware of his own in capacity to m eet properly theattention that was paid to him . Som e , however, were

THE LA sT D AYS or KANT. 149

adm itted! according to the circum stan ces of the caseand the accidental state ofKant’s spirits at the m om en t.Am ongst these

,I rem ember that we were particularly

pleased with M . Otto,the sam e who sign ed the treaty of

peace be twe en Fran ce and England with the pre sent’

rLordLiverpool (then Lord Hawkesbury). A young Russianalso r ises to m y re colle ction .at this m om en t, from the e x

cessive (and I think unaffected) en thusiasm which he displayed. On be ing in troduced to Kan t, he advan ced hastily, took both his hands, and kissed them . Kan t

, who,

from l iving so m uch am ongst his English friends,had a

good deal ofthe English dign ified reserve about him,and

hated anything like scenes,appeared to shrink a little from

this m ode “

of “salutation,and was rather embarrassed.

However, the young man’s mann er

,I believe

,was notat

all b eyon d his genuin e fe e lings ; for n ext day he calledagain

,made som e inquiries about Kan t’s health

,was very

anx ious to know whether his old age was burdensom e to

him,and

,above all things

,

f

entreated for som e little m e

morial of the great man to carry away with him . By accidentthe servan t had foun d -a small can celled fragm en t ofthe original MS. of Kan t’s “An thropologie : this, withmy san ction , he gave to the Russian ; who re ce ived it withrapture

,kissed it, and then gave to the servan t in return

the on ly dollar he had about him ; and, thinking that n ote nough, actually pulled ofi

'

his coat and waistcoat,and

forced them upon‘

the m an . Kan t, whose native s im plicity

of character very m uch indisposed him to sym pathy with

To whom it appears that Kant woul d generally reply, upon theire x pressing the

gleaSure it gave them to see him , In m e you behold a

poor superannua ed, worn- outold man .

”

P resent e. that Lord Liverpool who was struck by paralysiswhen Prim e Minister to Geo. IV .,

and has now, for nearly thirty years,b een described as the late Lord Liverpool.


any extravagances of feeling, could not, however, forbear

sm iling good -hum ouredly, on be ing m ade acquainted with

this instan ce ofnaivele’

and enthusiasm in his young adm irer.

I now com e to an event in Kant’s l ife which ushered inits closing stage . On the 8th of October, 1803, for thefirst tim e since his youth, he was seriously ill. When a

s tudent at the un iversity, he had on ce suffered from an

ague,which

,however, gave way to pedestrian exercise ;

and in later years he had endured som e pain from a con

tusion on his head; b ut, with these two exception s (ifthey can b e con sidered such), he had n ever (properlyspeaking) been il l. At present, the cause of his illn esswas this : his appetite had latterly been irregular, or ratherI should say depraved; and he no longer took pleasure inanything b utbread- and- butter and English cheese.“ On

the 7th ofOctober,at dinn er

,he ate little e lse, in spite of

everything that I and another friend then din ing with himcould urge to dissuade him . For the first tim e I fan ciedthat he se em ed displeased with my im portun ity, as thoughI were overstepping the just lin e of my duties. H e in

sisted that the cheese n ever had done him any harm ,n or

would now. I had n o course left m e but to hold my

tongue ; and he did as he pleased. The con sequence was

Mr W . here falls into the ordinary m istake ofconfounding the causeand the occasion, and would leave the impression that Kant (who fromhis youth uphad been am ode l oftemperance)died ofsensual indulgence .

The cause of Kant’s death was clearly the general decay of the vitalpowers, and in particular the atony of the digestive organs, which mustsoon have destroyed him under any care or abstinence whatever. Thiswas the caus e . The accidental occasion which made the cause operativeon the 7th ofOctober, might or m ight notb e what Mr W . says. But, in

Kant’s burdensom e state ofexistence, it could notb e a question ofmuch

importance whether his illn ess were to date from a 7th of October, or

from a.7th ofNovember.


only on e he took— or,as he expressed it in classical phrase ,

coenam ducere; b ut now it was difficult to hurry it overfast enough for his wishes . From dinn er, which term inatedabout two o

’clock, he wen t straight to b ed, and at in tervals fell in to slumbers; from which, however, he was re

gularly roused up by phantasmata or terrific dream s. Ats even in the even ing cam e on duly a period of great distress

,which lasted till five or six in the m orn ing— som e

t im es later; and he continued through the n ight alternately to walk about and lie down , occasionally tranquil,but m ore often in great agitation.

It now becam e n ecessary that som ebody should sit upwith him

,his man - servant be ing wearied outwith the toils

of the day. N0 person seem ed to b e so proper for thisoffice as his sister

,both as having long rece ived a very

liberal pen sion from him,and also as his n eare st relative .

who would b e the best witn ess to the fact that her illustrious brother had wanted no com forts or atten tion in hislast hours which his situation adm itted of. Accordinglyshe was applied to

,and undertook to watch him alternately

with his footman— a separate table be ing kept for her,and

a very handsom e addition made to her '

allowance . She

turned outto be aquiet,gen tle -m inded woman , who raised

no disturban ces am ongst the servants,and soon won her

brother’s regard by the m odest and retiring style ofher

manners ; I may add, also, by the truly sisterly affe ctionwhich She displayed towards him to the last.The 8th of October had grievously affe cted Kan t’s fa

culties, but had not wholly destroyed them . For short

intervals the clouds seem ed to roll away that had settledupon his majestic in tellect

,and it shon e forth as hereto

fore . During these m om en ts of brief self- possession, hiswonted ben ign ity returned to him ; and he expressed his

rHE LAST DAYS or KAN T . 153

gratitude for the exertion s of those about him ,and his

sen se of the trouble they underwen t, in a very affe ctingway. With regard to his man - servan t, in particular, he

was very anxious that he should b e rewarded by liberalpresen ts ; and he pressed m e earn estly on n o accoun t tob e parsim on ious . Inde ed

,Kan t was nothing less than

princely in his use of m oney; and there was n o occasionon which he was known to express the passion of scornvery powerfully, b ut when he was comm en ting on m ean

and penurious acts or habits. Those who kn ew him on lyin the stree ts, fancied that he was n otliberal ; for he stead ilyrefused, upon prin ciple , to rel ieve al l comm on beggars .

But,on

' the other hand,he was m ost liberal to the publ ic

charitable in stitution s ; secre tly also he assisted his own

poor relation s in a much am pler way than rcould reason

ably have be en expected of him ; and it now appearedthat he had m any other deserving pen sion ers upon hisboun ty; a fact that was utterly unknown to any ofus, untilhis in creasing blindn ess and other infirm ities devolved theduty of paying these pension s upon myse lf. It m ust herecollected

,also

,that Kan t’s whole fortun e (which , exclu

sively ofhis official appoin tm en ts,did notam ount to m ore

than dollars) was the product of his own honourable toils for n early thre escore years ; and that he hadhim self suffered all the hardships of poverty in his youth,though he n ever on ce ran in to any m an

’s debt; circum

stan ces in his history which, as they express how fully hem ust have be en acquain ted with the value ofm on ey, greatlyenhan ce the m erit ofhis m un ificen ce .

In D e cember, 1803, he becam e in capable of sign ing his

nam e. His sight, indeed, had for som e tim e failed him

so m uch,that at dinn er he could not find his spoon with

outassistance; and, when I happened to din e with him . I

154 THE LAST DAYs or KANT .

first cut in pieces whatever was on his plate, n ext put itinto a dessert - spoon , and then guided his hand to find the

spoon . But his inability to sign his nam e did notarise

m erely from blindn e ss : the fact was, that, from irretention

of m em ory,he could not recolle ct the letters which com

posed his nam e ; and, when they were repeated to him ,he

could n ot represent the figure of the letters in his imagi

nation . At the latter end ofNovember, I had remarkedthat these incapacities were rapidly growing upon him ,

and in con sequen ce I prevailed on him to Sign beforehandall the receipts, &c.

,which would he wan ted at the end of

the year; and afterwards, on m y representation,to prevent

all disputes, he gave m e a regular legal power to sign on

his behalf.Much as Kan t was now reduced, yethe had occasionally

m oods of social hilarity. H is birth - day was always anagreeable subj ect to him : som e we eks before his death, Iwas calculating the tim e which it still wanted ofthat ann iversary, and che ering him with the prospect ofthe rej oicings which would then take place .

“Al l your old friends,

”

said I,“will m ee t together

,and drink s. glass ofcham pagn e

to your health.

” That,

” said he,m ust b e don e upon the

spot and he was n ot satisfied till the party was actuallyassembled. H e drank aglass ofwin e with them ,

and,with

great e levation of Spirits,celebrated by an ticipation this

birthday which he was destin ed n ever to see .

I n the latter we eks ofhis life,however, a great change

took place in the ton e ofhis spirits. At his dinn er- table,

where heretofore such a cloudle ss spirit of joviality hadreign ed, there was now am elan choly s ilen ce . It disturbedhim to see his two dinn er com pan ion s conversing privatelytogether, whilst he him self sat l ike a mute on the stagewith no partto perform . Yet to have engag ed him in the


m en t it was clasped, he unclasped it with impatience,and

was then equally im patien t to have it clasped again . But

no description can convey an adequate impression of the

weary restlessn ess with which from m orn ing to n ight hepursued these labours of Sisyphus— doing and undoingfretting that he could notdo it, fre tting that he had don e i t .By this tim e he se ldom kn ew any ofus who were about

him,but took us all for strangers . This happen ed first

with his s ister, then “with m e,and final ly w ith his servan t.

Such an alienation from us all distressed m e m ore than anyother in stance ofhis decay : though I kn ew that he had n otreally withdrawn his affection from m e

, yet his air and

m ode of addre ssing m e gave m e ! constan tly that fe eling.

So m uch the m ore affecting was it,when the san ity ofhis

perception s and his rem embran ces re turn ed , b utat in tervals of slower and slowe r recurren ce . I n this condition ,s ilen t or babbling childishly

,self- involved rand torpidly

abstracted,or e lse busy with self- created

“phan tom s and

de lusions,waking upfor a m om en t to trifies, sinking back

for hours to what m ight perhaps b e d isjoin ted fragm en tsofgrand perishing reveries

,what a con trast did he offer to

thatKan t who had once been the b rillian t cen tre of the

m ost brilliant c ircles for rank,wit

,or knowledge , that

Prussiaafforded ! A distinguished person from Berlin , whohad called upon him during the pre ceding summ er, was

greatly shocked at his appearan ce,and said,

“ This is notKan t that I have seen

,but the shell ofKan t 1” How m uch

m ore would he have said this, if he had seen him now .

For now cam e February, 1804, which was the last m on th

that Kant was destin ed to see . It is remarkable that, inthe m em orandum -book which I have before m ention ed

,I

found a fragm ent of an old song (inserted by Kant, and

T HE LAST DAYS or KANT . 57

dated in the summ er about six m on ths before the tim e of

his death), which expressed that February was the m onthin which people had the least we ight to carry, for the ohvious reason that it was shorter by two and by thre e daysthan the others ; and the con cluding sen tim en t was in a

ton e offan ciful pathos to this effect Oh,happy February !

in which man has least to bear— least pain,least sorrow

,

least se lf- reproach 1” Even of this short m on th,however,

Kan t had not twe lve en tire days to bear,for it was on the

twe lfth that he died; and, in fact, he - m ay b e said to havebeen dying from the first. H e now bare ly vegetated; thoughthere were still tran sitory gleam s flashing fitfully from theem bers ofhis an cien t m agn ificen t inte l le ct.On the 3d ofFebruary the springs of life seem ed to b e

ceasing from the ir play; for from this day, strictly speaking, he ate n othing m ore . H is existen ce hen ceforwardseem ed to b e the m ere prolongation ofan im petus derivedfrom an e ighty years’ life

,after the m oving power of the

m echan ism was withdrawn . His physician visited himevery day at a particular hour; and it was settled that Ishould always b e there to m e et him . Nin e days beforehis death

,on paying his usual visit

,the follow ing little cir

cum stan ce occurred, which affected us both,by recalling

forcibly to our m inds the in eradicable courtesy and goodn ess ofKan t’s nature . When the physician was announ ced,I wen t upto Kan t and said to him ,

H ere is D r AKan t rose from his chair

,and

,offering his hand to the

doctor,m urmured som ething in which the word “ posts ”

was frequen tly repeated, but with an air as though hewished to b e he lped outwith the rest ofthe senten ce . D r

A who thought that , byposts, he m ean t the stationsfor re lays of post - horses , and therefore that his m ind waswandering, replied, that all the horses were engaged, and


begged him to com pose him self. But Kant went on , withgreat effort to him se lf, and added, Many posts, heavyposts— then much goodn ess— then m uch gratitude . Al lthis he said with apparent incoheren ce , b ut with greatwarm th

,and increasing se lf- possession . I m eantim e per

fectly divin ed what it was that Kan t, under his cloud of

imbecility, wished to say, and I in terpre ted accordingly.

“What the professor wishes to say, D r A is this, that,con sidering the m any and we ighty posts which you fill inthe city and in the un iversity, it argues great goodn ess onyour part to give up so much ofyour tim e to him (for D r

A would n ever take any fees from Kan t);“and that

he has the deepest sen se ofthis goodn e ss .” Right,

” saidKan t

,earn estly right !” But he still con tinued to stand,

and was n early sinking to the g i ound. Upon which I rem arked to the physician

,that Kan t, as I was wel l con

vinced,would not sitdown

,however m uch he suffered from

standing, un til he kn ew that his visiters were seated . The

doctor seem ed to doubt this; but Kan t, who heard what Isaid, by a prodigious efi

'

ort confirm ed m y con struction of

his conduct,and spoke distin ctly these words God for

bid I should b e sunk so low as to forge t the offices ofhum an ity.

”

When dinn er was announ ced,D r A took his leave .

Another guest had now arrived,and I was in hopes, from

the an imation which Kan t had so recen tly displayed, thatwe should to- day have apleasan t party; b utmy hopes werevain— Kan t was m ore than usually exhausted; and, thoughhe raised a spoon to his m outh

,he swallowed nothing. For

som e tim e everything had been tasteless to him ; and I hadendeavoured, b utwith little success, to stimulate the organs oftaste by nutm eg

,cinnam on

,&0. T o- day all failed,

and I could not prevail upon him to taste even abis cuit,

160 TH E LAST DAYS or KANT .

his yet unbroken strength was brought into active conflict

with the first attacks of decay, he was aptto b e peevish,and som etim es spoke roughly or even harshly to his servants . This

,though very opposite to his natural disposi

tion,was altoge the r excusable under the circum stan ces .

H e could notmake him self understood : th ings were therefore brought to him continually which he had notaskedfor; andwhat he really wan ted often tim e s he could not ohtain

,because all his efforts to nam e it were un inte lligible .

A violen t n ervous irritation , besides, affected him ,from

the un settling ofthe equilibrium in the differen t fun ctionsof his nature ; weakn ess in on e organ be ing made m ore

palpable to him by disproportionate strength in another.

But at length the strife was fin ished; the whole systemwas thoroughly unde rm in ed, and n ow m oving forward inrapid and harm on ious progress to dissolution . From thist im e til l all was over, no m ovem en t of impatience

,or e x

pression offre tfuln ess,ever e scaped him .

I n ow visited him three tim es a- day; and on

Tuesday,February 7, going about dinn er - tim e

,I found

the usual party of friends sitting down alon e ; for Kan twas in b ed. This was a n ew scen e in his house, and increased our fears that his end was close athand. However,having seen him rally so often

,I would not run the risk of

leaving him without a dinn er- party for the n ext day; andaccordingly, at the customary hour of on e

,we assembled

in his house onWedn esday, February 8. I paid my respects to him as

cheerfully as possible,and ordered dinner to b e served.

Kant satat the table with us; and, taking a spoon with alittle soup in it, carried it to his lips ; but imm ediately putit down again , and retired to b ed from which he n everrose again.


Thursday, the 9th, he had sunk in to the weakne ss ofadying person

,and the corpse - l ike appearan ce (the faczes

H z'

ppocratz'

ca) had already taken possession of him . Ivisited him frequently through the course ofthe day; and

going for the last tim e about ten o’clock at n ight

,I found

him in a state of in sen sibility. I could notdraw any S ignfrom him that he kn ew m e

,and I left him to the care of

his sister and his servan t.Friday, the l 0th, I wen t to see him at six o

’clock inthe m orn ing. It was very storm y

,and a deep snow had

fallen in the n ight - tim e . A nd,by the way, I rem em be r

that agang ofhouse - breakers had forced the ir way throughthe prem ises

,in order to reach Kan t’s n ext ne ighbour

,who

was a goldsm ith A s I drew n ear to his bedside , I said,“Good-m orn ing. H e return ed m y salutation

,by saying

,

Good-m orn ing,but in so fe eble and faltering a voice

that it was hardly articulate . I was rejoiced to find himsen sible , and I asked him if he kn ew m e . Yes

,

” he replied; and, stretching out his hand

,touched m e gently

upon the cheek. Through the rest of the day, when everI visited him

,he seem ed to have relapsed in to a state of

insen s ibility.

Saturday, the 1 l th, he lay with fixed and rayless eyes ;b utto al l appearan ce in perfect peace . I asked him again ,on this day, if he kn ew m e . H e was spe e chless

,b ut he

turn ed his face towards m e,and m ade sign s that I should

kiss him .

ale D eep em otion thrilled m e as I stooped down

That I should kiss him — The pathos which belongs to such a

m ode of final valediction is dependent altogether for its effect upon thecontrast between itself and the prevailing ton e ofmann ers amongst thesociety where su‘ch an incident occurs. In som e parts ofthe Continent,there prevailed during the last century amost effem inate practice amongstm en of exchanging kisses as a regular mode of salutation on m eetin gafter any considerable period of separation. Under such a standard of

G 2


to kiss his pallid lips; for I knew that in this solem n

act oftendern ess he m ean t to express his thankfulness for

our long friendship, and to sign ify his last farewell . I

had n ever seen him confer this mark ofi his love upon any

body except on ce , and that was a few weeks before hisdeath, when he drew his sister to him and. kissed her. The

kiss which he n ow gave to m e was the last m em orial that

he kn ew m e .

Whatever fluid was now offered to him pass ed the oeso

phagus with a rattling sound , as often happen s with dyingpeople ; and there were all the signs of death be ing closeathand.

I wished to stay with him till all was over; and, as I

manners, the farewell kiss of the dying could have no special effect ofpathos. But in nations so in exorably manl y as the English, any act,which for the mom ent seem s to depart from the usual standard ofman

l iness,becomes exceedingly impressive when it recal ls the spectator’s

thoughts to the m ighty power which has been able to work such a re

volution— the power of death in its final agen cies. The brave man hasceased to he in any exclusive sense aman : he has becom e an infant inhis weakness : he has becom e awoman in his craving for tendern ess andpity. Forced by agony, he has laid down his sexual character, and retains on ly his gen eric character ofahuman creature. A nd he that isman liest am ongst the bystanders , is also the readiest to sympathise withthis affecting change. Ludlow

,the parl iam entary general ofhorse, aman

ofiron n erves, and peculiarly hostile toall scen ical displays ofsentim ent,m entions , n everthe less, in his Mem oirs, with sym pathising tenderness,the case ofa cousin— that

,when lying m ortally wounded on the ground,

and feeling his life to b e rapidly welling away, entreated his relative todismount “ and kiss him .

”Everybody must rem ember the immortal

scene on board the Victory, at four R M . on October 21, 1805, and thefarewell, “

K iss m e, Hardy !”of the m ighty adm iral . And here again ,

in the final valediction ofthe stoical Kant,we read another indication ,

Speaking oracularly from dying lips ofnatures the sternest, that the lastnecessity— that cal l which survives all others in m en ofnoble and im ~

passioned hearts— is the necessity of love, is the cal l for som e relentingcaress

, such as may stimulate for a mom ent som e phantom image offemale tenderness in an hour when the actual presence offemales is im


up a position for his final act, and settled into the preciseposture which he pre served to the m om en t ofdeath. The

pulse was now no longer perceptible to the touch in his

hands,feet, or n eck. I tried every part where a pulse

beats, and found n on e b utin the left hip, where it con tinued

to beat with violen ce , b ut often in term itted .

About ten o’

clock in the forenoon he suffered a remarkable change ; his eye was rigid

,and his face and lips he

cam e discoloured by a cadaverous pallor. Still, such wasthe in ten sity of his con stitutional habits, that no traceappeared of the cold sweat which naturally accom pan iesthe last m ortal agony.

It was n ear eleven o’clock when the m om en t ofdissolu

tion approached. H is sister was standing at the foot ofthe b ed, his sister

’s son atthe head. I, for the purpose ofstill observing the fluctuation s in the pulse

,was kn eeling

atthe bedside ; and I called his servan t to com e and witn ess the death of his good master. The last agony wasnow advancing to its close , if agony it could b e called,where there seem ed to b e no struggle . A nd pre cise ly atthis m om en t, his distinguished frien d Mr R . R . V.,

whomI had summ on ed by a m essenger

,entered the room . Firs t

of all,the breath grew feebler; then it m issed its regu

larity ofreturn ; then it wholly interm itted, and the upperlip was slightly convulsed; after this there followed on e

fe eble respiration or sigh ; and after that no m ore ; b ut

the pulse still beat for a few seconds— slower and fain ter,slower and fainter, till it ceased altoge ther; the m echan ismstopped; the last m otion was at an end; and exactly atthat m om en t the clock struck eleven .

t 0 O

Soon after his death the head ofKan t was shaved; and,under the direction of Professor Knorr, a p laster cast was

THE LAST DAYS or KAN T . 165

taken . not a m ask m ere ly, b ut a cast of the whole head ,d esrgn ed (I believe) to enrich the cran iological collectionofD r Gall .The corpse be ing laid outand properly attired, imm ense

numbers of people in every rank,from the highest to the

lowest,flocked to se e it. E verybody was anxious to avail

him se lf ofthe last opportun ity he would have for entitlinghim self to say,

“ I too have seen Kant . This wen t on form any days

,during which

,from m orn ing to n ight

,the

house was thronged with the public. Great was the aston ishm entofall people atthe m eagren ess ofKan t’s appearan ce and it was un iversally agreed that a corpse so

wasted and fleshless had n ever been beheld. His headrested upon the sam e cushion on which on ce the gen tlem en of the un iversity had presen ted an address to him ;and I thought that I could notapply it to am ore honourable purpose than by placing it in the coffin , as the finalpillow ofthat imm ortal head .

Upon the style and m ode of his fun eral, Kan t had expressed his wishes in earlier years by a special m em oran

dum . H e there de sired that it should take place early inthe m orn ing

,with as l ittle noise and disturban ce as pos

s ible, and attended on ly by a few of his m ost in timate

friends. Happen ing to m ee t with this m em orandum ,

whil st I was engaged at his request in arranging hispapers

,I very frankly gave him my opin ion , that such an

injun ction would lay m e,as the executor ofhis will, under

great em barrassm en ts ; for that circum stan ces m ight veryprobably arise under which it would b e n ext to im possible

to carry it in to effect. Upon this Kant tore the paper,and leftthe whole to my own discretion . The fact was, Iforesaw that the students of the un ivers ity would n eve r

allow them selves to be robbed ofthis occasion for expres s~


ing the ir ven eration by apublic funeral . The event showed

that I was right ; for a fun eral such as Kan t’s, one so

solem n and so magn ificen t, the city of KOnigsb erg has

n ever w itn essed before or sin ce . The public journals, andseparate reports in pam phlets, &c . , have given so m inutean accoun t of its de tails, that I shall here notice on ly theheads ofthe cerem ony.On the 28th of February, at two o

’clock in the after

n oon , all the dign itaries ofchurch and state, not on ly thoseresident in KOnigsb erg, b ut from the rem otest parts of

Prussia,assembled in the church of the castle . H en ce

they were escorted by the whole body of the un iversity,splendidly dressed for the occasion , and by m any m ilitaryofficers ofrank, with whom Kan t had always been a greatfavourite

, to the house of the deceased professor; fromwhich the corpse was carried by torchlight, the bells of

e very church in Kon igsberg tolling,to the cathedral

,which

was lit up by innum erable wax - lights. A n ever- endingtrain ofpeople followed it on foot. I n the cathedral, afterthe usual burial rites

,accom pan ied with every possible

expression of national ven eration to the deceased, therewas a grand musical service

,m ost adm irably perform ed ;

atthe close ofwhich,Kan t’s m ortal remains were lowered

into the academ ic vault; and there he now rests am ongthe patriarchs of the un iversity. PEACE BE To H IS DUST ;

AND To H is MEMORY EVERLASTING HONoUE !

168 SYSTEM or THE HEA s s

fan cied that there was! b utwhich, in m y own opinion,

there n e ither is, nor ought to b e (sin ce a m an deserves to

b e cudgelled who could put such im proper question s to alady plan et), still what would it am oun t to ? What goodwould it do us to have a certificate of our dear little m o

ther’

s birth and baptism ? To tel l us the positive am oun t

of years through which our Earth has existed— fifty m il

l ions, for exam p le— would leave us in total darkness uponKan t’s question— viz., What proportion does that am oun tform of the total career allotted to this plan e t ? I s it thethousandth part, or the m illion th ? Our m other Tellus,beyon d all doubt

,is a love ly little thing. At any rate

,

therefore , she cann ot b e superannuated . I am satisfied thatshe is very m uch adm ired throughout the Solar Systemand in clear season s

,when she is se en to advan tage , with

her bonny we e pet of a Moon tripping round her like alam b

,I should b e glad to see the planet that could fan cy

herse lf en titled to sn ee ze atour Earth. A nd then,if she

fied fer writing such a review, should have felt no ambition for swe llingacatalogue already certain of b eing in excess . My purpose was hum bler,b ut also higher— viz. , this : from amongst the many relation s ofastronomy— l . to man ; 2. to his earthly habitation ; 3. to the m otion s of hisdaily life ; 4. to his sense of illim itable grandeur ; 5. to his dim anticipations of changes far overhead, concurrently with changes on earth— toselect such as m ight allow of a solem n and impassioned, or of agay andplayful treatm ent. If

,through the l ight torrent spray offanciful images

or allusions, the reader catches at intervals mom entary glimpses of objects vast and awful in the rear

,amuch m ore impressive effect is likely

to b e obtain ed than through any amount of scientific discussion, and, atany rate , al l the effect that ever was contemplated.

Recupero : — See“ Brydone

’

s Travels,” som e S ixty or seventy yearsago. The canon

, being a b en eficed clergyman in the Papal Church, wasnaturally an infidel“ He wished exceedingly to refute Moses ; and hefancied that he really had done so by m ean s of som e col lusive assistancefrom the layers oflava on Mount Etna. Butthere survives, atthis day,very little to rem ind us ofthe canon , except an unpleasant gufl

'

aw thatrises, attimes, 1D solitary valleys ofEtna.

A S REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE’S TELESCOPES .

(viz ., our Earth) keeps but on e Moon, even that (you

kn ow) is an advan tage as regards som e people that keepnon e .

Mean tim e,what Kan t understood by his question is

som ething that still remains to be deve loped. It is this :-Letthe earth have lived any num ber ofyears that you

sugge st,still that tells us nothing about the period of life ,

the stage, which she m ay b e supposed to have reached. I s

she a child,in fact, or is she an adult ? A nd ifan adult,

and that you gave a ball to the Solar System ,is she that

kind of person that you would introduce to a waltzingpartn er, som e fiery young gentleman like Mars ; or would

you rather suggest to her the sort of partn ership whichtake s place ata whist - table ? Som e think that our plan etis in that stage of her life which corresponds to the playful period oftwe lve or thirte en in a spirited girl. Such agirl

,were it not that she is checked by a swe e t natural

sen se offem in in e reserve , you m ight call a rom p ; but n ota hoyden , observe ; n o horse - play; oh no

,nothing of that

sort. A nd these people fan cy that earthquakes, volcanoes,and all such little e scapades, will b e over, will cease andde term in e ,

”as soon as our Earth reaches the age ofmaid

en ly bashfuln ess . Poor thing ! It’s quite natural, youknow, in a healthy growing girl. A little overflow of

vivacity,a pirouette m ore or less

,an earthquake plus or

m inus,what harm should that do to any of us ! Nobody

take s m ore delight than I in the fawn - like sportiven ess ofan inn ocen t girl, at this period of life ; even a shade of

espiefglerie does n ot annoy m e . But stil l m y own im press ion s in clin e m e rather to represen t the Earth as a fin e

noble young woman , full of the pride which is so b ecoming to her sex, and well able to take her own part

,in case

that, atany solitary point ofthe heavens,she should com e

H— IH.

170 SYSTEM OF THE HEAVEN S

across one of those vulgar fussy Com ets, disposed to b e

rude and. take im proper liberties .

But others there are , a class whom I perfectly ab om inate

,that place our Earth in the category of decaying

,

nay, ofdecayed wom en . Hair like arctic snows, failure of

vital heat,palsy that shakes the head as in the porcelain

toys on our m ante lpiece s, asthm a that shakes the wholefabric — these they absolute ly fan cy them se lves to see ;

they absolutely hear the tellurian lungs whe e zing, pan ting, crying, Be l lows to m end ! ” periodically as the Earthapproaches her aphe l ion .

Suddenly at this point a dem ur arises upon the totalquestion . Kan t’s ve ry problem explodes

,as Ven etian

win e - glasses of old were shivered by any treacherouspoison they m ight contain . For is there

,after all

,any

stat ionary m ean ing in the question ? Perhaps, in real ity,

the Earth is both young and old. Young ? If she is n otyoung atpresen t

,perhaps she w ill b e so in future . Old ?

Ifshe is not old at this m om en t,perhaps she has been old

,

and has a fair chance of becom ing so again . I n fact,She .

is a Phoen ix that is known to have secre t processes for rebuilding herselfout ofher own ashes. Little doubt thereis b utshe has se en m any abirth- day, many a fun eral n ight,

5

and m any am orn ing ofresurre ction . For,listen z— Where

now the m ightiest of ocean s rolls in pacific beauty, oncewere an chored con tinen ts and boundless forests . Wherethe south pole now shuts her frozen gates inhospitablyagainst the intrusion s of fle sh

,on ce were probably accu

mulated the ribs of em pires ; man’s im perial forehead

,

woman ’s roseate lips,gleam ed upon ten thousand hills ;

and there were innum erable con tribution s to antarcticjournals alm ost as good (but notquite)as our own . Evenwithin our dom estic lim its

,even wher e little England, in

172 SYSTEM or THE HEAVENS

to fancy that Mr Kan t had really been dozing a little onthis occasion ; or, agreeably to his own illustration e lsewhere , that he had realised the pleasan t picture of one

learn ed doctor trying to m ilk a he - goat,whilst another

doctor, equal ly learn ed, holds the m ilk- pail below.

” A nd

there is apparen tly this two- edged embarrassm en t pressingupon the case— that, if our dear exce llen t m other th eEarth could b e persuaded to tell us her exact age in Julianyears, still thatwould leave us all as much in the dark asever : since , if the an swer were

,

“W hy, children , at m yn ext birth - day I shall coun t a matter ofsom e m i llion cen

turies,

”we should stil l b e at a loss to value her age

would it m ean that she was a m ere chicken,or that she

was getting up in years ?”On the other hand

,if (de

clining to state any odious circum stan tialities) she wereto reply, No m atter

,children

,for m y pre cise years , which

are disagreeable rem embran ces ; I con fe ss gen erally tobeing a lady ofa certain age

”— here

,in the inverse order,

given the valuation of the age , we should yet b e ata lossfor the absolute years num erically : would a “ certain age

”

m ean that mamm a”was a m illion

,or perhaps notmuch

above seven ty thousand?Every way, you see

,reader

,there are difficulties. But

two things used to strike m e as unaccoun tably overlookedby Kan t; who, to say the truth, was profoun d— yet at n ot im e very agile— in the character of his understanding.

First, what age now m ight we take our brother and sisterplan ets to b e ? For this determ ination as to a poin t in theircon stitution , will do som e thing to illustrate our own . W e

Kant applied this ill ustration to the case where one worshipfulscholar proposes som e impossible problem (as the squaring of the circle,or the perpetual m otion), which another worshipful scholar sits down tosolve. The reference was ofcourse toVirsil

’

s l ine— “A tque idem jungatvulpes, etmul geathircos."

As REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE’

S TELESCOPES .

are as good as they, I hope , any day; perhaps, in a growl .on e m ight in sinuate— better. It’s not at all likely thatthere can b e any great disproportion ofage amongst children of the sam e household : and therefore, since Kan talways coun tenan ced the idea that Jupiter had not quitefin ished the upholstery ofhis extensive prem ises, as a com

fortab le re siden ce for m an , Jupiter having, perhaps, a fin efam ily ofm amm oths

,b utin Kan t’s Opin ion as yetno fam ily

at all of hum an s,

” Kan t was bound,ex analogo, to hold

that any little pre ceden cy in the trade ofliving, on the partofour own m other Earth

,could not coun t for m uch in the

long run . At Newmark et or D on caster,the start is

seldom m athematical ly true : trifling advan tage s will survive all human trials after abstract equity; and the logic

of this case argue s,that any few thousands of years by

which Te llus m ay have got ahead of Jupite r, such as thehaving fin ished her Rom an Em pire

,fin ished her Crusades

,

and fin ished her Fren ch Revolution,virtually am oun ts to

l ittle or n othing ; indicates n o higher proportion to the

total scale upon which she has to run,than the few tickings

ofa watch by which on e horse atthe start for the Leger isin advan ce ofanother . When checked in our chronologyby each other

,it tran spires that

,in effe ct

,we are but e x e

cuting the n ice m anoeuvr e of a start ; and that the sm al lm atter of thre e or four thousand years

,by which we m ay

have advan ced our own position beyond som e ofour plan etary rivals

,is b utthe outstre tched n eck ofan un easy horse

atD on caster. This is one ofthe data overlooked by Kan t ;and the less excusably overlooked

,because it was his own

peculiar doctrin e— that un cle Jupiter ought to b e con ~

sidered a gre enhorn . Suppose , then , that Jupiter is a

younger brother of our m amma; yet, if he is a brother atall , he cannot be so very wide ofour own chronology; and

174 SYSTEM or THE HEAVENS

therefore the first datum overlooked by Kan t was— theanalogy ofour whole plan etary system . A second datum ,

as it always occurred to m yself, m ight reasonably enough

b e derived from the inte l lectual vigour of us m en . If

our m other could, with any Show of reason,he considered

an old decayed lady, snor in g stentorously in her arm - chair,

there would naturally b e som e aroma of phthisis, or apoplexy

,beginn ing to form about us

,that are her children .

But is there ? Ifever D r John son said a true word, it wasin the reply which he made upon this question to the Scottish judge

,Burne tt

,so we ll known to the world as Lord

Monb oddo. The judge , a learn ed m an , b ut obstinate as am ule in certain prejudices, had said

,querulously

,

“Ah,

doctor, we are poor creatures

,we m en of the e ighte en th

cen tury,by com parison w ith our forefathers ! ” Oh no

,

m y lord, said John son,

“we are quite as strong as our

an cestors,and. a great deal W iser. Yes ; our kick is

,to

the ful l, as dangerous, and our logic does three tim es as

m uch execution . This would b e a com plex topic to treateffectively; and I wish m erely to indicate the open ingwhich it offers for a m ost decisive order of argum en ts insuch a con troversy. If the Earth were on her last leg s,we her children could n ot be very strong or healthy.

Whereas, in alm ost every m ode of in te llectual power, weare a m atch for the m ost con ce ited of e lder gen eration s;and in som e m odes we have energies exclusively our own .

Am ongst a thousand indication s of strength and buddingyouth, I will m en tion two z— I s it likely, is it plausible,that we children of Earth should just begin to find out

effe ctive m ethods by steam of traversing land and see ,

when the human race had a summ ons to leave both ? Isit not

, on the contrary, a clear pre sum ption that the great

career of earthly nations is but on the point of open ing.

176 SYSTEM or THE HEAVEN S

n ority to the m ajority. Augustus Caesar m ade ~ithis boast

that he had foun d the city ofRom e built ofbrick, and thathe left it built of marble : laterz

'

tz’

am z‘

nvem’

t,marmoream re

lz'

guz'

t. Lord Rosse may say, even if to- day he should die ,I foun d God’s un iverse represen ted for human couve

n iemce,even after all the sublim e discoverie s of H ersche l,

upon a globe or spherical chart having a radius of on e

hundred and fifty fe et ; and I left it sketched upon a sim ilar chart

,keeping exactly the sam e scale of proportions

,

b ut n ow e longating its radius in to on e thousan d fe et .”

Great is the m ystery ofSpace , greater is the m ystery ofTim e . E ither m ystery grows upon m an

,as m an hims e lf

grows ; and e ither se em s to b e a fun ction of the godl ikewhich is in m an . I n reality, the depths and the he ightswhich are in m an

,the depths by which he searches

,the

he ights by which he aspire s,are b ut proj e cted and m ade

objective externally in the thre e dim en sion s ofspace whichare outside of him . H e trem bles atthe abyss in to whichhis bodily eyes look down

,or look up ; n ot knowing that

abyss to b e,n otalways con scious ly suspecting it to b e

,b ut

by an in stinct written in his prophe tic heart fe e ling it tob e

,boding it to b e

,fearing it to b e ,and som e tim es hoping

it to b e,the m irror to a m ight ier abyss that w ill on e day

b e expanded in him self. Even as to the sen se of space,

which is the lesser m ystery than tim e,I know notwhether

the reader has remarked that it is on e which swe lls uponman with the expan sion of his m ind

,and that it is pro

bably peculiar to the m ind of m an . A n infan t of a yearold

, or often tim es even older,takes no n otice of a sound

,

however loud, which is a quarter- of-a-m ile rem oved,or

even in a distan t chamber. A nd brute s,even ofthe m ost

e n larged capacitie s, seem not to have any comm erce withdistance : distance is probably notrevealed to them except

as REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE s TELESCOPES. 177

indirectly.-A n an imal desire

,or a de ep an imal hostility

,

m ay render sen sible a distan ce which e lse would not b e

sen sible ; b ut not render it sen sible as a distan ce . H en ceperhaps is explain ed

,and not out ofany self- oblivion from

higher en thusiasm,a fact that often has occurred

,of de er

,

or hare s, or foxes, and the pack ofhounds in pursuit, chaserand chased, all going headlong over a pre cipice toge ther.

D epth or height doe s n ot readily m an ifest itse lf to them ;

so that any strong m otive is sufficien t to overpower thesen se of it. Man on ly has a natural fun ction for expanding , on an illim itable sen sorium

,the illim itable growths of

space . Man , com ing to the pre cipice , reads his danger ;the brute perishes : m an is saved; but the horse is savedby his rider.

If this sounds in the ear ofsom e a doubtful refin em en t,

the doubt applies on ly to the lowest degre e s of space .

For the highest,it is certain that brutes have no percep

tion . T o m an is as much re served the prerogative ofper

c e iving space in its h igher exten sion s,as ofgeom e trically

con structin g the re lation s of space . A nd the brute is nom ore capable of apprehending abysse s through his eye ,

than he can build upwards or can analyse downwards theaerial syn thesis ofGeom e try. Such, therefore , as is spacefer the grandeur ofm an

’

s perception s,such as is space for

the ben efit of m an’

s towering m athem atic spe culations,such— 22a, of that nature— is our debt to Lord Rosse— as

be ing the philosopher who has m ost pushed back the

fron tiers of our conque sts upon this ex clusive inheritan ceofman . W e have all heard ofa king that

,sitting on the

sea- shore,bade the wave s, as they began to lave his fe et,

upon the ir allegian ce to retire . Thatwas said not vain lyor presum ptuously

,b utin reproof ofsycophan tic courtiers .

Now, however we see in good earnest another man ,wielding

178 SYSTEM on TH E HEAVENS

another kind of sceptre , and sitting en thron ed upon the

shores ofinfin ity, that says to the ice which had frozen upour progres s,

“M e lt thou before m y breath !” that says to the

rebe l lious nebulae,

“Subm it, and burst in to blaz ing worlds !”

that says to the gates ofdarkn ess,“Roll back, ye barriers,

and n o longer hide from us the infin ities ofGod !”

If on som e m oon le ss n ight,in som e fitting condition of

the atm osphere , Lord Rosse would perm it the reader andm yse lfto walk into the fron t drawing- room ofhis te lescope

,

then I m ight say to my com pan ion , Com e,and I will show

you what is sub lim e ! I n fact,what I am going to lay before

him from D r Nichol’s work is,or at least would b e (when

tran slated in toH ebrew grandeur by the m ighty te le scope),a step above even that obj e ct which som e four- and- thirtyyears ago in the British Museum struck m e as sim ply thesub lim est sight which in this sight - se e ing world I had

se en . It was the M em n on’

s head,then re cently brought

from Egypt. I looked at it,as the reader m ust suppose

,in

orde r to understand the depth which I have here ascribedto the im pre ssion , notas a hum an , b utas a sym bolic head;and what it sym bolised to m e were z— l . The peace whichpasse th all understanding. 2 . The e tern ity which bafflesand confounds all faculty of com putation ; the etern itywhich had been , the e tern ity which was to b e . 3. The

diffusive love , not such as rises and falls upon waves of

l ife and m ortality, n ot such as sinks and swe lls by undulation s oftim e , b utaprocession— an emanation from som e

mystery of endless dawn . You durst not call it a sm ilethat radiated from the lips ; the radiation was too awfulto clothe itse lf in adumbrations or m em orials offlesh .

I n thatmode of sublim ity,perhaps

,I still adhere to m y

first opin ion , that n othing so great was ever beheld. The

atm osphere for this, for the Mem non , was the breathless

180 SYSTEM OF THE HEAVENS

by Lord Rosse — You see a head thrown back, and raisingit,face (or eyes

,if eye s it had) in the very anguish of

hatred,to som e unknown heavens. What should b e its

skul l wears what m ight b e an Assyrian tiara, on ly endingbehind in a floating train . This head rests upon a beau

tifully deve loped n e ck and throat . All power be ing give nto the awful en emy, he is beautiful whe re he please s, inorder to poin t and envenom his ghostly ugl in ess. The

m outh, in that stage of the apocalypse which Sir JohnH ersche l was able to arrest in his e ighte en - in ch m irror

,is

am ply developed. Brutalitie s un speakable sit upon the

uppe r lip,which is confluen t with a snout ; for separate

n ostrils there are none . Were it n otfor this one defe ct ofnostrils ; and, even in spite Of this defect (sin ce, in S0 mys

sion altogether changes, ifthe k ey-note is differently interpreted : and

this difference will b e m uch greater, if any latitude is al lowed to theoriginal com bination ofthose starry e lem ents outOfwhich the particularsynthesis is Obtain ed . Aware Ofall this

,I cannot complain Ofthose who

have not b een able toread the sam e dreadful features in the Orion nebulaas I m yselfhave read. Buttwo classes Ofobj ectors I am entitled to repelm ore peremptorily— viz. , those who have nottak en the trouble to look atProfessor N ichOl

’

s portrait ofthis n ebula in the right position : for it happen s that, ih the professor’s book, it is placed upside down as regards thenatural position of a human head. Secondly, and still m ore, I am en

titled to complain Of others, whose sole Obj ection is, that the earliestrevelation ofthis n ebular apparition byLord Rosse ’s telescope has by thesam e telescope been greatly m odified . What ofthat? Who doubts thatit would b e m odified? It is enough that once , in a single stage Of the

e x am ination , this apparition put on the figure here represented, and foram om entary purpose here dim ly deciphered. Take W ordsworth ’

s fine

sonnet upon cloud m im icries,drawn from “

al l the fum ing van ities of

earth, e ither that on the Ham ilton H ills in Yorkshire , or that from theplains OfFrance , or that labyrinth Ofterraces and towers which revealeditselfin the very centre of a storm (see the fourth book Ofthe Excursion”)— would it have been any rational Ob jaction to these grand picturesthat the whole had van ished within the hour? He who fancies that, doesnotunderstand the original purpose in holding up am irror Ofdescriptionto appearances so grand, and in a dim sense Often so symbolic.

A S REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE’S TELESCOPES. 181

terious a m ixture of the angel ic and the brutal , we maysuppose the sen se Of Odour to work by som e com pensatoryorgan), on e is rem inded by the phan tom ’s attitude of a

passage ever m em orable, in Milton : that passage , I m ean,

where D eath first becom es aware,soon after the original

trespass,ofhis own future em pire over m an . The “m eagre

Shadow” even sm iles (for the first tim e and the last) onapprehend ing his own abom inable bliss

,by apprehending

from afar the savour Of m ortal change on earth”

Such a scent ” (he says) “ I drawOfcarnage, prey innum erable .

”

As illustrating the attitude Of the phantom in Orion, letthe reader allow m e to quote the trem endous passage

So saying, w ith delight he snufl"d the sm el lOfm ortal change on earth. A s when a flockOfravenous fow l, though many a league remote,A gainst the day Ofbattle, to afield,W here arm ies lie encamp’d, com e flying, luredW ith scent Ofliving carcases design’dFor death , the following day, in bloody fight ;SO scented the grim feature , and upturn ’

d

His nostril wide into the m urky air,Sagacious Ofhis quarry from so far.

”

But the lower lip, which is drawn inwards with thecurve ofa marin e She ll— Oh

,what a convolute Of crue lty

and revenge is there ! Crue lty l— to whom ? Revengefor what ? Pause not to ask ; b ut look upwards to othermysteries . I n the very region of his tem ple s

,driving it

se lf downwards in to his crue l brain , and breaking the continuity Of his diadem ,

is a horrid chasm,a ravin e

,a Shaft

,

I have n ever m etwith any notice ofMilton ’s Obligation to Lucanin this trem endous passage ; perhaps the most sublim e , al l things considered, that ex ists in human literature. The words in Lucan close

Etnare sagaciAeranon sanum, tactumque cadavere 861181

182 SYSTEM on THE HEAVENS

that m any centuries would not traverse ; and it is serrated

on its posterior wal l with a harrow that is partly hidden .

From the an terior wal l Of this chasm rise , in verticaldirection s

,two proce sses ; on e perpendicular, and rigid as

a horn , the other stream ing forward before som e portentous breath . What these could he , se em ed doubtful ; b utn ow, when further exam ination s by Sir John H ersche l, at

the Cape OfGood Hope , have filled up the scattered out

lin e with a rich um brageous growth, on e is in clin ed to re

gard them as the plum es Of a sultan . D ressed he is ,the refore , as we ll as arm ed . A nd finally com e s LordRosse

,that glorifies him with the j ewe llery

" Of stars : he

is n ow a vision “to dream of

,n otto te ll :” he is ready for

the worship Of those that are torm en ted in sleep : and thestages of his solem n un covering by astron om y

,first by

SirW. H erschel, secondly by his son , and final ly by LordRosse

,is like the reversing of som e heaven ly doom , l ike

the raising one after another of the seals that had beensealed by the ange l in the Reve lation .

H ersche l the e lder,having greatly im proved the te le

scope,began to Observe w ith spe cial atten tion a class Of re

m arkable phenom ena in the starry world hitherto unstu~

died— viz .,m ilky spots in various stage s Of diffusion . The

nature ofthese appearan ces soon cleared itself up thus far,

T hej ewellery ofstars : — And one thing is very remarkable , viz. , thatnot on ly the stars justify this nam e of j ewellery, as usual, by the l ife Oftheir splendour, b utalso, in this case, by the ir arrangem ent. N O j ewellercould have set, or disposed w ith m ore art, the magnificen t quadrille ofstars which is placed imm ediately below the upright plum e . There is

also another, a truncated quadrille, wanting on ly the left hand star (oryou m ight call it a bisected lozenge) placed on the diadem ,

b utobliquelyplaced as regards the curve Ofthat diadem . Two or three other arrangem ents are striking, though not equally so, both from their regularity andfrom their repeating each other, as the forms in akaleidoscope.

184 SYSTEM or THE HEAVEN S

from on e deep to a lower deep . Granted : but the sam e

effe ct, an illustration Of the sam e law,is produced equally,

whe ther you take four worlds, all ofthe sam e magn itude ,and plunge them simultaneously into four differen t abysse s,s inking by graduated distan ces on e below another, or take

on e world, and plunge it to the sam e distan ces successively .

SO in geology, when m en talk Of substan ces in differen t

stage s, or oftran sitional states, they do notm ean that theyhave watched the sam e individual stratum orphenomenon,

exhibiting states rem oved from each other by depths Ofm any thousand years ; how could they? b ut they have seenon e stage in the case A,

another stage in the case B.

This poin t settled, letit n ow b e remarked, that Hersche l’sresources enabled him to unmask m any Of these nebulae :

stars they were , and stars he forced them to own themse lves. Why should any decen t world wear an alias ?

There was nothing, you know, to b e asham ed Of in be ingan hon est cluster ofstars . Inde ed

,they se em ed to b e sen

s ible Of this them se lves,and they now yie lded to the force

Of H ersche l’s argum en ts so far as to Show them se lve s inthe n ew character Of nebulae Spangled with stars ; these arethe stellar nebulae; quite as m uch as you could expect inSO short a tim e : Rom e was n ot built in a day : and on e

m ust have som e respe ct to stellar fee lings . It was noticed,how ever, that where a bright haze, and not a weak m ilkand-water haze , had revealed itself to the telescope , this,arising from a case Of compression (as previously explain ed),required very little in crease Of tele scopic power to forcehim in to a fuller confession . H e m ade a clean breast Ofit . Butat length cam e a dreadful anomaly. A “

n ebula”

in the conste llation A ndromeda turn ed restive; another inOrion

, I grieve to say it, still more SO . I confin e myselfto the latter. A Very low power sufficed to bring him to

A s REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE’S TELESCOPES . 185

a slight con fession , which in fact am oun ted to nothing ;the very highest would not persuade him to Show a star.

A nd Hersche l was thus led to in fer two classe s ofnebulaeOn e that were stars

,and another that were not stars, n or

ever were m ean t to b e stars . Yet thatwas premature : hefound atlast

,that

,though notraised to the pe erage ofstars,

finally they would b e so : they were the matter Of stars, andby gradual conden sation would becom e sun s

,whose atm o

sphere,b y

~a sim ilar process of condensing,would becom e

plan ets,capable Ofbrillian t literati and Of philosophers

,in

several volum es octavo. SO stood the case for a longtim e ; it was se ttled to the satisfaction ofEurope that therewe re two classes ofnebulae— on e that were worlds, on e thatwere not

,but on ly the pabulum Of future worlds . Som e

,in

fact,were worlds in esse, but som e On ly in posse. Silen ce

arose . A call was heard for LordRosse ! and imm ediate ly histelescope walked in to Orion ; destroyed the supposed m atter Of stars ; b ut, in return

,created imm easurable worlds .

A S a hin t for apprehending the delicacy and difficultyofthe process in sidereal astronom y

,letthe in experien ce d

reader figure to him se lf these separate cases Of perplexity :1 . A perplexity where the dilemma arises from the col lision between m agn itude and distan ce z— is the size less, O rthe distan ce greater ? 2 . Where the dilemma arise sbetween m otion s

,a m otion in ourselves doubtfully con

founded with a m otion in som e external body; or,3.

Where it arises between possible position s Of an Object : isit a real proxim ity that we see between two stars , or

Sim ply an apparen t proxim ity from lying in the sam e

Visual l in e, though in far other depths Of space? As regards the first dilemma, we may suppose two laws, A and

B, absolutely in con tradiction , laid down at starting : A ,

that all fixed stars are precisely at the sam e distance ; inH 2

186 SYSTEM OF THE HEAVENS

this case every diffe ren ce in the apparen t m agn itude willindicate a corresponding difleren ce in the real m agn itude

,

and will m easure that differen ce . B, that all the fixedstars are precisely of the sam e magnitude ; in which case ,every varie ty in the size will indicate a corre sponding diffe rence in the distan ce ; and will m easure that difleren ce .

N or could we im agin e any exception to these inferencesfrom A or from B, whichever Of the two were assum ed

,

un less through optical laws that m ight not equally affe ctObj ects under difl

‘

erentcircum stan ces ; I m ean,for in stan ce

,

that m ight suffer a disturban ce as applied under hypoth.

B, to differen t depths in space

,or under hypoth. A,

to differentarrangem en ts of structure in the star. But thirdly

,

it is certain that n e ither A n or B is the abiding law : andn ext, it becom es an Obj ect

,by scien ce and by in strum en ts

,

to distinguish m ore readily and m ore certain ly betwe enthe cases where the distan ce has degraded the s ize

,and

the cases where the size , be ing really less, has caused anexaggeration of the distan ce : or, again , where the Sizebe ing really less

, yet cO - operating with a distan ce real lygreater

,may degrade the e stimate (though trave lling in a

right dire ction) be low the truth ; or again , where the sizebe ing really le ss

, yet coun teracted by a distan ce also less,may equally disturb the truth of human m easurem en ts,and SO on .

A second large order of equivocating appearan ces willarise, n otas to m agn itude, b ut as to m otion . If it couldb e a safe assumption

,that the system to which our plane t

is attached were absolute ly fixed and m otion less,except as

regards its own internal re lation s Of m ovem en t,then every

change outside Of us, every m otion that the registers of

astronom y had e stablished,would b e Objective , and not

subj ective . Itwould be safe to pronounce at once that it

188 SYSTEM or T II E HEAVENS

ourselves, b ut the star in Cygnus, is the real party con

cerned, in drifting at this shocking rate, with no prospectofcom ing to an an chorage .

"é

Another class,and a frequen t on e , of equivocal pheno

m ena— phenom ena that are recon cilable indifl'

erently withe ither Of two assum ption s, though less plausibly recon ciledwith the one than with the other— con cern s the position of

stars that seem conne cted with each other by system aticre lation s

,and which yetmay lie in very differen t depths Of

Space,be ing brought into seem ing con n ection on ly by the

human eye . There have be en , and there are , cases wheretwo stars dissemble an in terconn e ction which they reallyhave, and other cases where they S im ulate an inte rconn ection which they have not. All thes e cases Of Simulationand dissimulation torm en t the astronom er by m ultip lyinghis perplexitie s

,and de epen ing the difficulty Of e scaping

them . He cannot get atthe truth : in many cases, m agn itude and distan ce are in collusion with each other to deceive him ; m otion subj ective is in collusion with m otionObjective ; duplex system s are in collusion with fraudulen t

Itis worth adding atthis point, whil st the reader rem embers withouteffort the numbers, viz . forty- one thousand years, fbr the tim e (the Spacebeing our own distance from the sun repeated six hundred and seventythousand tim es), what would b e the tim e required for reaching, in thebody, that distance to which Lord Rosse ’s Six -feet m irror has SO recentlye x tended our vision . The tim e woul d b e, as Dr N ichol computes, abouttwohundred and fifty m illions Ofyears, supposing that our rate Oftravelling was about three tim es that Of our earth in its orbit. N ow, as the

ve locity is assum ed to b e the same in both cases, the ratio between thedistance (already SO trem endous) OfBessel’s 61 Cygn i, and that OfLordRosse

’

s farthest frontier, is as forty one thousand to twohundred and fiftym illions . This is a Simple rule - Of- three problem fbr a child . And theanswer to it will , perhaps, convey the simplest expression Of the superhuman power lodged in the new te lescope : as is the ratio Of forty-onc

thousand to two hundred and fifty m illion , so is the ratio Of our own

d istance from the sun multiplied by Six hundred and seventy thousand,to the outermostlim it OfLord Rosse’s sidereal Vision.

A S REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE S TELESCOPES. 189

stars,having no real partn ership whatever, b utm im icking

such a partn ership by m ean s Of the lim itation s or errors

affe cting the hum an eye , where it can apply n o other sen seto aid or to correct itse lf. SO that the business of astronom y

,in these days

,is no Sin ecure

,as the reader perce ive s.

A nd,by another eviden ce

,it is con tinually becom ing less

Of a sin e cure . Form erly,on e or two m en— Tycho

, sup

pose,Or

,in a later age , Cassin i, Horrox

,and Bradley— had

Observatories : on e m an,suppose

,Observed the stars for all

Christendom ; and the rest Of Europe Observed him . But

now,up and down Europe , from the de ep blue of Italian

Skies* to the cold frosty atm osphere s ofStPe tersburg andGlasgow, the stars are con scious Of be ing watched everywhere ; and if all astron om ers do not publish the ir Ob se r

vation s, all use them in the ir spe culation s. N ew and brilliantly

-appoin ted Observatorie s are rising in every latitude,

or risen ; and n on e , by the way, Of these n ew -born Ob ser

vatories is m ore in teresting,from the circum stan ce of its

position , or m ore picturesque to a h igher organ than the

eye— viz ., to the human heart— than the New Observatory

raised by the Un iversity Of Glasgow .

The N ew Observatory of Glasgow is n ow,I believe ,

fin ished; and the on ly fact conn ected with its history thatwas pain ful, as embodying and recording that Vandalalienation from scien ce , literature , and all the ir in terests,which has ever m arked our too haughty and Caliph - Omarl ike British Governm ent

,lay in the circum stan ce that the

glasses of the apparatus,the whole m oun ting of the esta

“D eep b lue of Italian skies — W hich deep blue,however, is den ied

by som e people, who con tend that, though often introduced into the pictures Ofthe great I talian masters , since the realities Of nature m ust b econtinual ly m odified by the learn ed artist for purposes ofeffe ct

,in reality

the skies of I taly are as Often Ofa pale French grey as those Ofmore


b lishm ent, in so far as it was a scien tific establishm ent, and

e ven the workm en for putting upthe m achin ery, we re imported from Bavaria. W e

,that on ce bade the world stand

aside when the que stion arose about glasses, or the graduation of instrum en ts

,w ere now literally obliged to stand

cap in hand, bowing to Mr Som ebody, successor Of Frauenhofer or Frauendevil, in Mun ich ! W ho caused that, we

should all b e glad to kn ow, if not the wicked Treasury,that killed the hen that laid the golden eggs by taxingher un til her spin e broke ? It is to b e hoped that, at thism om en t

,and specifical ly for this oflence

,som e scores of

Exchequer m en,chan cellors, and other rubbish

,are in

purgatory,and perhaps working

,with shirt - Sle eve s tucked

up,in purgatorial glass- houses

,with very small allowan ces

ofbe er,to defray the cost Ofperspiration . Butwhy trouble

a fe stal rem em bran ce with comm em orations Of crim es or

crim inals ? What m akes the Glasgow Observatory so

peculiarly interesting is its position,conn ected with and

overlooking so vast a city,having as m any thousands of

inhabitan ts as there are days in a year (I SO state the po

pulation , in order to assist the reader’s m em ory), and n earlyall children Oftoil; and a city, too, which, from the n eces

s i ties Ofits circum stances, draws so deeply upon that fountain Ofm isery and guilt which som e ordinan ce, as an cien tas our father Jacob

,with his patriarchal we ll for Sa

m aria, has bequeathed preferen tially to manufacturingtown s— to Nin evehs

,to Babylon s

,to Tyres . How tar

n ished with e ternal canopies Of sm oke,and Of sorrow;

how dark with agitation s of m any orders,is the m ighty

town below ! How serene , how quie t, how lifted abovethe confusion , and the roar

,and the strife s Of earth, is

the solem n Observatory that crown s the he ights overhead !A nd duly, at n ight, just when the toil Of overwrought


portan t it is, and m ore in recon ciliation with the tenor of

m y own ordinary studies, to n otice the philosophic Spiritin which D r NichOl ’S works are fram ed, and the lofty character Of that en thusiasm which sustains his in tellectualadvan ces . I n reading astronom ical works, there arises

(from old experien ce ofwhat is usually m ost faulty)awishe ither for the naked severities Of scien ce

,with a total

abstin en ce from all display of en thusiasm ; or else , if thecravings of human sen sibility are to b e m etand gratified

,

that it shall b e by an en thusiasm unaffe cted and grand asits subject. Of that kind is the en thusiasm Of Dr Nichol .There was a man in the last cen tury, and an em in en t

man too, who used to say, that whereas people in gen eral

pretended to adm ire astronom y as be ing essen tially su

b lim e,he for his part looked upon all that sort Of thing as

a swindle ; and, on the con trary, he regarded the solarsystem as de cidedly vulgar; because the plan ets were so

infernally punctual, they kept t im e with such horribleprecision , that they forced him ,

whether he would or n o.

to think Of post - Office clocks,mail - coaches

,and book

keepers . Regularity m ay b e beautiful, but it excludesthe sublim e . What he wished for was som ething likeLloyd’s list

Comets— due 3; arrived 1 .

M ercury, when last seen, appeared to b e distressed; but made no Signals.

P allas and Vesta, not heard Of for some time ; supposed to have foundered.

Moon , spoken last night through a heavy bank of clouds; out Sixteendays : all right.

N ow this poor man’s m isfortun e was,to have lived in

the days ofm ere plan e tary astronomy. At present, whenour own little system , with al l its grandeurs, has dwindledby comparison to a subordinate province

,if any man is

A S REVEALED BY LORD ROSSE’S TELESCOPES 93

hold enough to say so,a poor shivering un it amongst

myriads that are brighter, we ought no longer to talk of

astronomy,but ofthe astronomies. There is, l . the plan etary;

2 . the com etary; 3. the sidereal, perhaps also others; as, forin stan ce

,even yet, 4 . the n ebular; b ecause , though Lord

Rosse has sm itten it with arod like the son ofAm ram’s,has

made it open , and has cloven apath through it, yetother andm ore fearful nebulae m ay loom 111 Sight (if further improvem ents should b e effected in the telescope), that may puzzleeven Lord Rosse . That would b e vexatious . But no

m atter. What’s a nebula,what’s a world

,m ore or less ?

In the Spiritual heaven s are m any man sion s : in the starryheaven s

,that are now unfolding and preparing to un fold

before us,are many vacan t areas upon which the astro

nom er m ay pitch his secre t pavilion . H e may dedicatehim self to the service Of the D ouble Suns ; he has m y

l icen se to devote his whole tim e to the quadruple systemof sun s in Lyra. Swamm erdam spen t his life in a ditch

,

watching frogs and tadpoles ; why may notan astronom er

give n in e l ives,if he had them

,to the watching Of that

awful appearan ce in H ercules,which pre tends to som e

rights over our own system ? Why m ay he not m oun tguard

,with public approbation

,for the n ext fifty years,

upon the zodiacal light, the in terplan etary e ther,and other

rarities,which the professional body ofastronom ers would

naturally keep (if they could) for the ir own private enjoym en t? There is n o wan t of variety now

,nor in fact Of

irregularity; so that our friend Of the last cen tury, whocom plain ed Of the solar system as tOO m onotonous

,would

n otn eed to do SO any longer. There are anom alie s enoughto keep him cheerful . A nd for all purposes Of frighten ingus

,anomalies in system s SO vast are as good as a ghost .But Of all the novelties that excite my own interest in

1 —m .


the expanding astronom y Of recen t tim e s,the m ost pro

m ising are those charm ing little pyrote chn ic plan etoids,’

that variegate our annual course . It alway s struck m e

as disgusting, that, in going round the sun ,w e must b e

passing con tinual ly over Old roads,and yethave no m eans

ofe stabl ishing an acquain tance with them : they m ight as

w e ll b e n ew for every trip . Those chambers Of e ther,through which we are tearing along n ight and day (forour trains stops at n o station s), doubtless, if w e could putsom e mark upon them ,

m ust b e old fe llows perfe ctly liableto recogn ition . A nd yet, for wan t ofsuch a m ark, thoughall our live s flying past them and through them

, we can

n ever challenge them as old acquain tan ces . The sam e

thing happens in the desert : on e m onotonous iteration of

sand, sand,sand

,un less where som e m iserable foun tain

stagnates,forbids all approach to fam iliarity : n othing is

c ircum stan tiated or difl'

erenced : trave l it for thre e generations, and you are no n earer to identification Of its parts;so that it am oun ts to travelling through an abstract idea.

There is no Aristotelian attach/agin g, no re cogn ition . For

the desert, I suspect the thing is hopeless; b ut, as regardsour plan etary orbit

,matters are m ending : for the last

six or seven years,these showers Of falling stars, recurren t

atknown intervals,make those parts ofthe road henspeclale

“ P yrotechnic planetoids —The reader w ill understand m e as al

luding to the periodic shooting stars. It is now wel l known , that as,upon our own poor little earthly ocean

,we fall in with certain phenom ena

as we approach certain latitudes,so also upon the great ocean navigated

by our Earth, we fal l in with prodigious showers of these m eteors atperiods no longer uncertain

, b ut fixed as jail - deliveries. These re

markable showers Ofm eteors,” says Dr N ichol, “Observed atdifferen t

periods in August and N ovember, seem to dem onstrate the fact , that, atthese periods, we have com e in contact w ith two stream s Of such planetoids then intersecting the earth ’

s orbit.” If they interm it, it is on lybecause they are Shifting their nodes, or points ofintersection.

196 svsrnn or arm Hnavm s

that anarchon ara kai ateleutaz’

on topan— or have sported a

n ew on e exclusively for this occasion , m ay b e doubtful.What it is that astronom ers think, who are akin d of cos

m ogony m en,

”the reader may learn from D r Nichol .

(Note B, pp . 139,

I n taking leave ofa book and a subj ect so well fitted todraw outthe highest m ode ofthat grandeur, which can con

n ect itself with the external, I would wish to con tributemy own brief word ofhomage to this grandeur

,by recall

ing from a fading rem embran ce of twenty- five years backa short bravura of John Paul Richter

,b ut in m y own

English version . I call it a bravura,as be ing inten tionally

a passage of display and e laborate execution ; and in on e

sen se I m ay call it partl y“my own ,

” sin ce,at twen ty-five

years’ distan ce (after one s ingle reading), it would nothavebeen possible for any man to report a passage ofthis lengthwithout greatly disturbing* the texture ofthe com position :by altering, though un in ten tionally, by adding, by sub

tracting, or by tran sposing, unavoidably on e m akes itpartly one’s own ; b ut it is right to m ention

,that the su

b lim e turn atthe end belongs en tirely to John Paul.

D ream- vision ofthe Infinite as itreveals itselfin the

Chambers ofSpace.

God called up from dream s a man into the vestibuleof heaven , saying, ‘ Com e thou hither

,and see the glory

of my house .

’

And to the s ervan ts that stood around

“D isturbing

— Ne1ther perhaps should I much have sought toavoidalterations, ifthe original had been lying before m e : for it takes the shapeofa dream ; and this m ost brilliant ofal l German writers wanted in thatfie ld

.

the severe simplicity, that horror of the too much, belonging toGrecian architecture , which is essential to the perfection of a dream con

sidered as awork of art. Too elaborate he was,and too artificial, to

realise the grandeur ofthe shadow

as REVEALED BY LORD Rossn’

s TELESCOPES. 197

his thron e he said,‘ Take him

,and undress him from

his robes of fle sh : clean se his vision , and put a n ew

breath in to his n ostrils : arm him with sail - broad wings

for flight. On ly touch not with any change his human

heart— the heart that weeps and trembles .’ It was

don e ; and, with a m ighty ange l for his guide , the man

stood ready for his infin ite voyage ; and from the ter

races of heaven , without sound or farewell, at on ce theywhe eled away into endless space . Som etim es with the

solem n fl ight of angel wing they fled through Zaarrahsof darkn ess, through W ildern esses of death that dividedthe worlds of life : som etim es they swept over fron tiers,that were quicken ing under prophetic m otions towards alife notyet realised . Then

,from a distan ce that is counted

on ly in heaven,light dawn ed for a tim e through a sleepy

film : by unutte rable pace the light swept to them, theyby unutterable pace to the light : in a m om en t the rushing ofplan e ts was upon them : in a m om en t the blazingof sun s was around them . Then cam e e tern ities of twilight

,that revealed

,b utwere n ot revealed. To the right

hand and to the left towered m ighty con stellation s, thatby se lf- repetition s and by an swers from afar

,that by

counter- position s,that by m ysterious combination s

,built

up trium phal gates,whose architraves

,whose archways

horizon tal, upright— re sted, rose— at altitudes,by span s

— that se em ed ghostly from infinitude . Without m easurewere the architraves, past num ber were the archways

,

beyond m em ory the gates. Within were stairs that scaledthe e tern ities above , that descended to the etern ities b elow : above was below, be low was above

,to the man

stripped of gravitating body : depth was swallowed up inhe ight in surm oun table , height was swallowed up in depthunfathomable. Suddcnly as thus they rode from infin ite

198 sve n or THE HEAVENS .

to infin ite , sudden ly as thus they tilted over abysm alworlds

,am ighty cry arose— that system s more m ysterious

,

worlds m ore billowy— other he ights, and other depthswere dawn ing, were nearing, were at hand . Then the

man sighed, stopped, shuddered, and wept . His overladen heart uttered itse lf in tears ; and he said, ‘Angel ,I wil l go n o further. For the spirit of man aches underthis infin ity. I n sufi

'

erab le is the glory of God’s house .

Letm e lie down in the grave , that I m ay find rest fromthe perse cution s of the Infin ite ; for end

,I se e

,there is

non e .

’A nd from all the l isten ing stars that shon e aroun d

issued on e choral chan t Even so it is : angel,thou

knowest that it is : end there is n on e,that ever yet we

heard of.’

End is there non e 2’ the ange l solem n ly demanded.

‘ A nd is this the sorrow that ki lls you.

’

But

no voice answe red,that he m ight an swer him self. Then

the angel threw up his glorious hands to the heaven of

heavens, saying,‘End is there non e to the un iverse of

God ? Lo ! also THERE I S no nm mm na.

200 rosrscnrrr.

the truths ofastronomy, of geology, &c.

,at the era ofn ew -born

Christianity, was not only below and beside the purposes of areligion , butwould have been against them . Even upon errors ofa

far more important class than errors in science can ever b e— supcr

stitions,for in stance, that degraded the very idea of God; preju~

dices and false usages, that laid waste human happiness (such asslavery, and many hundreds of other abuses that m ight b e mentioned), the rule evidently acted upon by the Founder ofChristian itywas this— Given the purification ofthe wel l- head

,once assumed

that the fountains of truth are cleansed, all these derivative cur

rents of evil will ' cleanse themselves. A s a general rule, thebranches of error were disregarded, and the roots only attacked.

If,then

,so loftya station was taken with regard even to such errors

as really had moral and spiritual relations, how much more withregard to the comparative trifles (as in the ultimate relations ofhuman nature they are) ofm erely human science ! But

,for my

part, I go further, and assert, that upon three reasons it was impossible for any messenger from God (or offering himself in thatcharacter) to have descended into the commun ication of truthmerely scientific

,or econom ic

,orworldly. And the three reasons

are these z— First,because such a descent would have degraded his

mission,by lowering it to the base level of a collusion with human

cruiosity, or (in the most favourable case) of a col lusion with pettyand transitory interests. Secondly, because it would have ruined hismission

,by disturbing its free agency, and m isdirecting its energies,

in two separate modes : first, by destroying the spiritual auctoritas(the prestige and consideration) ofthe m issionary; secondly, by vitiating the spiritual atmosphere of his audience— that is, corruptingand misdirecting the character of their thoughts and expectations.

He that in the early days ofChristianity should have proclaimed thetrue theory ofthe solar system

,or that by any chance word or allu

sion should then , in a condition ofman so l ittle prepared to rece ivesuch truths, have asserted or assumed the dailymotion ofthe earthon its own axis

,or its annual motion round the sun

,would have

found himself entangled at once and irretrievably in the fol lowingunmanageab le consequencesz— First ofall, and instantaneously, he

eosrscnrrr. 201

would have been roused to the alarm ing fact, that, by this dreadfulindiscretion

,he himse lf

,the professed de liverer ofanewand spiritual

religion, had in amoment untuned the spirituality of his audience.

He would find that he had awakened within them the passion of

curiosity— the most unspiritual ofpassions, and of curiosity in a

fierce polem ic shape. The very safest stepin so deplorable a situation would b e

,instantly to recant. Already by this one may esti

mate the evil,when such would he

'

its readiest pall iation. For in

what condition would the reputation of the teacher b e left for discretion andwisdom as an intellectual guide, when his first actmustb e to recan t— and to recant what to the whole b ody of his hearerswould wear the character ofa lunatic proposition. Such considerations m ight possibly induce him notto recant. Butin that case theconsequences are far worse. Having once allowed himse lf to sanct ion what his hearers regard as the most monstrous ofparadoxes, hehas no liberty of retreat open to him. He must stand to the prom ises of his own acts. Uttering the first truth of a science

,he is

pledged to the second; taking the main step, he is comm itted to allwhich follow. He is thrown atonce upon the endless controversieswhich science in every stage provokes, and in none more than in theearliest. Starting, besides, from the authority of adivine m ission

,

he could not (as others m ight) have the privilege of selecting arbitrarily or partially. Ifupon one science

,then upon all ; if upon

science,then upon art; ifupon art and science

,then upon every

branch of social economy his reformation and advances are equallydue— due as to all

,if due as to any. To move in one direction, is

con structively to undertake for all. Without power to retreat,he

has thus thrown the intellectual interests of his followers into a

channe l utterly al ien to the purposes ofa spiritual mission.

The spiritual m ission, therefore, the purpose for which only therel igious teacher was sent

,has now perished altogether— overlaid

and confounded by the merely scientific wranglings towhich his owninconsiderate precipitance has opened the door. But suppose at

this point that the teacher, aware at length ofthe m ischiefwhich hehas caused

,and seeing that the fatal error ofuttering one solitary

novel truth upon amatter ofmere science is by inevitable consc

202 rosrsenrrr

quence to throw him upon a road leading altogether away from the

proper field of his m ission , takes the laudable course of confessinghis error, and of attempting a return into his proper spiritual provincc. This may b e his best course ; yet, after all , itwil l notretrievehis lost ground. He returns with a character confessedly damaged.

His very excuse rests upon the blindness and shortsightedness.which forbade his anticipating the true and natural consequences.Ne ither will his own account ofthe case b e generally accepted. He

wil l not b e supposed to retreat from further controversy, as inconsistent with spiritual purposes, butbecause he finds himselfunequalto,the dispute. And

,in the very best case

,he is

,by his own

acknowledgment, tainted with human infirm ity. He has beenruined for a servant of inspiration; and how By aprocess, let itb e remembered

,ofwhich all the steps are inevitable under the same

agency: that is, in the case ofanyprim itive Christian teacher havingattempted to speak the language of scientific truth in deal ing withthe phenomena of astronomy, geology, or of any merely humanknowledge.Now, thirdly and lastly, in order totry the question in an extreme

form,let it b e supposed that, aided by powers ofworking m iracles,

some early apostle ofChristianity should actually have succeeded incarrying through the Copernican system of astronomy as an articleofblind beliefsixteen centuries before the progress ofman

’s in tel lect

had qualified him for naturally deve loping that system. What, insuch a case, would b e the true estimate and valuation ofthe achievement ? Simply this, that he had thus succeeded in cancel ling andcounteractingadeterm inate scheme ofdivine discipline and train ingfor man . Wherefore did God give to man the powers for contending with scientific difficulties ? Wherefore did he lay a secret trainofcontinual occasions, that should rise, by relays, through scores ofgenerations, for provoking and deve loping those activities in man

’s

intellect, if, after all, he is to sendamessenger ofhis own , more thanhuman

, to intercept and strangle all these greatpurposes ? This isto m istake the verymean ing and purposes ofa revelation . A revelation is notmade for the purpose of showing to indolent men thatwhich, by faculties already given to them,

they may show to them

204 rosrscarrr .

such sciences, either as tak ing the shape ofhistories, appl ied to processes current and in movement, or as taking the shape of theoriesappl ied toprocesses past and accomplished. The Mosaic cosmogony,indeed

, gives the succession of natural births; and probably the

general outline ofsuch asuccession will b e more and more confirmedas geology advances. Butas to the time, the duration , ofthis suecessive evolution, it is the idlest of notions that the Scripturese ither have, or could have, condescended to human curiosity upon soawful a prologue to the drama of this world. Gen esis would no

more have indulged so m ean apassion with respect to the mystsrious inauguration of the world

,than the Apocalypse with respect

to its mysterious close.

“Yet the six days ofMoses !”Days !

Butis it possible that human folly should go the length of under

standing, by the Mosaical day, the mysterious day of that awfulagency which m oulded the heaven s and the heaven ly host, no morethan the ordinary nychthemeron or cycle oftwenty-four hours ? The

period implied in a day, when used in relation to the inauguralmanifestation ofcreative power in that vast dramawhich introducesGod to man in the character ofadem iurgus, or creator ofthe world,indicated one stage amongst six ; involving probably many m illionsofyears. The silliest of nurses in her nursery.bab ble could hardlysuppose that the m ighty process began on aMonday morn ing, andended on Saturday n ight. Ifwe are seriously to study the valueand scriptural acceptation of scriptural words and phrases, I presume that our first business wil l b e to collate the use ofthese wordsin one part of Scripture, with their use in other parts, holding thesame spiritual relations. The creation

,for instance

,does notbelong

to the earthly or merely historical records,b ut to the spiritual

records ofthe Bib le ; to the sam e category, therefore, as the prophetic sections of the Bible . Now

,in those

,and in the Psalms

,how

do we understand the word dag ? Is any man so l ittle versed inbiblical language as notto know, that (except in the mere ly b istorical parts of the Jewish records) every section of time has a secretand separate acceptation in the Scriptures ? Does an (eon

,though a

Grecian word, bear scripturally (either in Daniel or in St John)

any sense known to Grecian ears ? Do the seventy weeks of the

rosrscarr'r; 205

prophet mean weeks in the sense of human calendars ? Alreadythe Psalms already StPeter (2d warn us ofapeculiarsen se attached to the word day in divine ears. And who of the

innumerable interpreters understands the twelve hundred and sixtydays in Daniel, or his two thousand and odd days, to m ean, bypossib ility, periods of twenty-four hours ? Surely the theme ofMoses

was as mystical , and as much entitled to the benefit of mysticallanguage, as that ofthe prophets.The sum of this matter is thisz— God, by aHebrew prophet, is

sub limely describ ed as the Revealer ; and, in variation of his own

expression , the sam e prophet describes him as the Being “ thatknoweth the darkn ess. Under no idea can the relation s ofGod toman b e more grandly expressed. But ofwhat is he the revealer ?Not surely of those things which he has enab led man to reveal forhimself

,butofthose things which , were it not through special light

from heaven , must eternally remain scaled upin inaccessible darkness. On this principle we should all laugh ata revealed cookery.But essentially the same ridicule

,notmore

,and not less

,appl ies to

a revealed astronomy, or a revealed geology. A s afact,there is no

such astronomy or geology: as a possibility, by the apriori argument which I have used (viz., that a revelation on such fieldswould counteract other machineries ofProvidence), there can b e nosuch astronomy or geology in the Bible . Consequently there isnone. Consequently there can b e no schism or feud upon these

sub jects b etween the Bib le and the philosophies outside.

JOA N OF A RC.

“

IN REFERENCE TOM. MICHELET’

S HISTORY OFFRANCE.

WHAT is to b e thought ofher ? What is to b e thought ofthe poor shepherd girl from the hills and forests of Lorraine

,that— l ike the Hebrew shepherd b oy from the hills

and forests of Judea— rose sudden ly out of the quie t, outof the safe ty

,out of the religious in spiration

,rooted in

de ep pastoral solitudes,to a station in the van of arm ies ,

“A rc - Modern France, that should know agreat deal better than

myself, insists that the nam e is not D’

A rc— i . e. , of A rc— b ut D are.

N ow it happen s som etim es, that ifa person , whose position guarante eshis access to the best information , w ill content him selfw ith gloomy dogm atism ,

striking the table with his fist, and saying, in a terrific voice,It is so, and there’s an end ofit

,

”on e bows deferentially, and subm its.

But if,unhappily for him self, won by this docility, he relents too am i

ably into reason s and argum ents, probably on e raises an in surrectionagainst him that may never b e crushed; for in the fie lds of logic one canskirm ish, perhaps, as wel l as he. Had he confined him se lfto dogmatism ,

he would have intrenched his position in darkn ess, and have hidden hisown vulnerable points . But, com ing down to base reasons, he lets inlight, and one sees where to plant the blows . Now, the worshipfulreason ofm odern France for disturbing the old received spelling, is— thatJean Hordal

, a descendant of La P ucelle’s brother, spel led the nam e

D am in 1612. Butwhat ofthat ? It is notorious that what smal l matter ofspe lling Providence had thought fitto disburse am ongst man in theseventeenth century was al l m onopol is ed by printers; now,

M. Hordal

was notaprinter.

208 JOAN or ARC.

Sleep ofthe dead . Call her,King ofFran ce

,but She will

n ot hear thee ! Cite her by thy apparitors to com e and

re ce ive a robe of honour, b ut she will b e found en contu

mace. When the thunders of un iversal Fran ce , as even

yetm ay happen , Shall proclaim the grandeur of the poor

Shepherd girl that gave up all for her country, thy ear,

young Shepherd girl, will have been deaf for five cen turie s .

T o suffer and to do, that was thy portion in this life ; thatwas thy destiny; and n ot for a m om en t was it hiddenfrom thyself. Life

,thou saidst

,is Short ; and

“

the Sleepwhich is in the grave is long ! Let m e use that life

,so

transitory,for the glory ofthose heaven ly dream s destin ed

to com fort the Sleep which is so long. This pure creature- pure from every suspicion of e ven a visionary self~inte ~

rest, even as She was pure in sen ses m ore obvious— n everon ce did this holy child

,as regarded herse lf

,relax from

h er belief in the darkness that was travelling to m e e t her.

She m ight not prefigure the very m ann er of her death ;She saw n ot in vision

,perhaps

,the aerial altitude of the

fiery scaffold,the spectators without end on every road

pouring in to Rouen as to a coronation,the surging sm oke ,

the volleying flam es,the hostile face s all around

,the pity

ing eye that lurked but here and there , un til nature andimperishable truth broke loose from artificial restrain ts ;— these m ight not b e apparen t through the m ists of thehurrying future . But the voice that called her to death,thatshe heard for ever.

Great was the thron e ofFran ce even in those days, andgreat was he that sat upon it : b ut we ll Joanna kn ewthat not the thron e

,nor he that satupon it

,was for her;

b ut, on the

.

contrary,that She was for them ; not She by

them , b ut they by her,Should rise from the dust. Gor

ge ons were the lilies of France, and for centuries had the

JOAN or ABC . 209

privilege to Spread the ir beauty over land and sea,un til

,

in another cen tury, the wrath of God and m an com bin edto wither them ; but well Joan na kn ew, early atD om remyshe had read that bitter truth, that the l ilies of Fran cewould decorate no garland for her. Flowe r nor bud, bellnor blossom

,would ever bloom for her.

.x at at

But stay. What reason is there for taking up this sub

j ect ofJoanna pre cisely in the spring of 1847 ? Might itnothave be en left till the spring of1947? or, perhaps, leftt ill called for? Ye s, but it is called for ; and clam orously.

You are aware,reader, that am ongst the many original

thinkers whom m odern Fran ce has produced, on e ofthe

reputed leaders is M. Miche let. All these writers are ofarevolutionary cast ; not in a political sense m ere ly, b ut inall senses ; m ad, often tim e s

,as March hares; crazy w ith the

laughing gas of recovered liberty; drunk with the win ecup of the ir m ighty revolution , snorting, whinnying,throwing up the ir hee ls

,l ike wild horses in the boundless

Pam pas,and runn ing race s ofdefian ce with sn ipes

,or with

the winds, or with the ir own Shadows,if they can find

nothing e lse to challenge . Som e tim e or other I, thathave le isure to read

,m ay in troduce you, that have not, to

two or thre e dozen ofthese writers ; ofwhom I can assure

you beforehand, that they are Often profound, and at iatervals are even as im passion ed as if they were com e of

our best English blood. But now,confin ing our atten

tion to M. Michele t, we in England — who know him

best by his worst book,the book again st priests

,&c.

know him disadvan tageously. That book is a rhapsodyof incoheren ce . But his “H istory of Fran ce ” is quiteanother thing. A m an

,in whatsoever craft he sails

, can

not stretch away out of Sight when he is linked to theI 2

210 JOAN or ARC.

w in dings ofthe shore by towing- ropes ofhistory. Facts,and the con sequence s offacts, draw the writer back to the

falcon er’s lure from the giddiest he ights of speculation .

Here,therefore— in his Fran ce”— ifnotalways fre e from

flightin ess, if now and then off like a rocke t for an airywhe e l in the clouds, M. M ichele t, with natural politen ess,n e ver forgets that he has left a large audien ce waiting forhim on earth, and gazing upwards in anxie ty for his re turn :return , therefore, he does. But history

,though clear of

certain temptation s in on e dire ction,has separate dangers

of its own . It is impossible so to write a history of

France , or ofEngland— works be com ing every hour m ore

indispen sable to the in evitably - pol itical m an ofthis daywithout perilous Open ings for error. If I

,for instan ce

,

on the part ofEngland, should happen to turn m y laboursinto that channe l

,and (on the m ode l of Lord Percy going

to Chevy Chase)A vow to God should make

My pleasure in the Miche let woodsThree summ er days to take, ”

probably, from simple de lirium,I m ight hunt M.

Miche let into delirium tremens. Two strong angels stan dby the side ofhistory

,whether French history or English,

as heraldic supporters : the ange l of research on the lefthand, that m ust read m illion s ofdusty parchm en ts

,and of

pages blotted with lies ; the ange l of m editation on the

right hand,that must clean se these lying re cords with fire ,

even as of old the draperies ofasbestos were clean sed, andm ust quicken them in to regen erated life . W illinglv I

acknowledge that n o m an will ever avoid innum erab lee rrors of detai l ; with so vast a compass of ground to

traverse, this is im possible ; b ut such errors (though 1have a bushel on hand

,atM. M ichelet

’

s service) are not

212 JOAN or ABC.

quartered som e people upon our national funds ofhomage

as by a perpetual annuity. Better than an inheritan ce of

service rendered to England herself, has som etim es proved

the m ost in san e hatred to England. Hyder Ali, even hisson Tippoo, though so far inferior, and Napoleon , have al lben efited by this disposition am ongst ourselves to e x ag

gerate the m erit of diabolic enm ity. N ot on e of these

m en was ever capable , in a solitary in stan ce , ofpraising an

en em y [what do you say to that, and yet, in their

behalf, we con sen t to forget, not the ir crim es on ly, b ut

(which is worse) the ir hideous bigotry and an ti- magnan im ous egotism— for nationality it was not. Suffrein , and

som e half- dozen of other Fren ch nautical heroes,because

rightly they did us all the m ischief they could (which wasreally great), are nam es justly reveren ced in England . On

the sam e prin cip le,La Pucelle d’

Orlean s, the victoriousenemy ofEngland

,has been destin ed to rece ive her deepest

comm emoration from the m agnan im ous justice ofEnglishm en .

‘

Joanna,as we in England should call her, b ut, according

to her own statem en t,Jeann e (or, as M.Michelet asserts,

Jean*) D’

A rc,was born at D om remy

,a village on the

m arches ofLorrain e and Cham pagn e,and dependen t upon

“Jean : — M . Michelet asserts that there was amystical m ean ing at

that era in cal ling a chil d Jean ; it implied a secret comm endation ofa

child, ifnota dedication , to StJohn the evangelist, the beloved disciple ,the apostle oflove and m ysterious visions. But

,really, as the nam e was

so exceedingly common, few people wil l detectamystery in calling a boyby the nam e ofJack, though it does seem mysterious to cal l agirl Jack.

Itmay b e less so in Fran ce , where a beautiful practice has always prevailed ofgiving to a b oy his mother’s nam e— preceded and strengthenedby a.male nam e , as Charles A nne, Victor Victoire. In cases where a

mother’s m emory has been unusual ly dear to a son , this vocal m em en toofher

, locked into the circle of his own name, gives to it the tendernessofatesM entary rel ique, or a.funeral ring. I presume, therefore, that

JOAN or ARC. 213

the town ofVaucouleurs. I have called her a Lorrain e r,

notsim ply because the word is prettier, but because Champagne too odiously rem inds us English ofwhat are for asimaginary win es

,which

,undoubtedly

,La P ucelle tasted as

rare ly as we English; we English, because the Cham pagn eofLondon is chiefly grown in D evon shire ; La P ucelle, b ecause the Cham pagn e OfCham pagn e n ever

,by any chan ce ,

flowe d in to the foun tain ofDom remy,from which on ly she

drank. M . Miche let will have her to b e a Champenoise, andfor no better reason than that she “ took after her father,who happen ed to b e a Champenois .

These disputes,howeve r

,turn on refin em en ts too n ice .

Dom rem y stood upon the fron tiers,and, like other fron tiers,

produced a mix ed race,represen ting the cis and the trans .

A river (it is true) form ed the boundary- lin e at this poin t- the river Meuse ; and that

,in Old days

,m ight have

divided the population s ; b ut in these days it did n ot: therewere bridges

,there were ferrie s and weddings crossed

from the right bank to the left. H ere lay two great roads,not so m uch for travel lers that were few, as for arm ies thatwere too many by half. These two roads , on e ofwhich wasthe great high road be twe en Fran ce and Germany, decussated at this very point ; which is a learn ed way of sayingthat they form ed a StAndrew’s cross

,or le tter ! . I hope

the com positor will choose a good large !,in which case

the poin t ofintersection , the locus ofconfiux and interse c

tion for the se four diverging arm s,will fin ish the reader’s

geographical education,by showing him to ahair’s - breadth

where it was that D om remy stood. These roads, so grandlysituated, as great trunk arterie s between two m ighty

La P ucelle must have born e the baptismal nam es ofJeann e Jean ; th elatter w ith no reference

, perhaps, to so sublime aperson as StJohn, b utsimply to some relative.

214 JOAN or m e .

realm s,

*and haunted for ever by wars or rum ours ofwars ,

decussated (for anything I know to the con trary) absolutelyunder Joanna’s bedroom w indow ; on e rolling away to the

right,past Mon sieur D ’

A rc’

s old barn , and the other un

accountably preferring to swe ep round that odious m an ’

s

pig- sty to the left.On whichever side of the border chan ce had thrown

Joanna,the sam e love to Fran ce would have been nurtured .

For it is a strange fact, noticed by M . M ichele t and others,that the D ukes ofBar and Lorrain e had for gen eration spursued the policy ofeternal warfare with Fran ce on the irown accoun t

, yet also of e ternal am ity and league withFran ce

,in case anybody e lse pre sum ed to attack her. Let

peace settle upon Fran ce,and before long you m ight rely

upon see ing the little vixen Lorrain e flying atthe throatOfFran ce . LetFran ce b e assailed by a form idable enemy,and instan tly you saw a D uke of Lorrain e in sisting on

having his own throat cut in support of Fran ce ; whichfavour accordingly was cheerfully gran ted to him in thre egreat successive battles— twice by the English, viz ., atCrecy and Agin court

,on ce by the Sultan atNicopolis .

This sym pathy with Fran ce during great e clipse s, inthose that during ordinary season s were always teasing herwith braw ls and guerilla inroads

,strengthen ed the natural

piety to France ofthose that were con fe ssedly the childrenof her own house . The outposts of Fran ce

,as one m ay

call the great fron tier provin ces,were ofall localities the

m ost devoted to the Fleurs de Lys. To witn ess,at any

great crisis, the gen erous devotion to these lilies of the

little fiery cousin that in gen tler weather was for ever tilt

And rem inding one Of that in scription, so justly adm ired by Paul

Richter, which a.Russian Czarinaplaced on a guide - post n ear Moscow,

This is the road thatleads to Constantinople.

2 16 JOAN or Aac.

m onsoon s . The madness Of the poor king (Charles VI .)falling in at such a crisis, like the case ofwom en labouringin child birth during the storm ing of a city, trebled the

awfuln e ss ofthe tim e . Even the wild story ofthe in ciden t

which had imm ediately occasion ed the explosion of this

m adn ess— the case Ofaman unknown , gloom y, and perhapsm an iacal him se lf, com ing out of a forest at noonday

,lay

ing his hand upon the bridle ofthe king’s horse,che cking

him for a m om en t to say, Oh, king, thou art betrayed,”

and then van ishing, no man kn ew whither, as he had appee red for no m an kn ew what— fe ll in with the un iversalprostration of m ind that laid Fran ce on her kn ee s

,as b e

fore the slow unweaving Of som e an cien t prophe tic doom .

The fam in es,the extraordinary diseases , the in surrection s

ofthe peasantry up and down Europe— the se ‘we re chordsstruck from the sam e m ysterious harp ; but these weretran sitory chords . There had been others of de eper andm ore om inous sound. The term ination ofthe Crusade s

, the

destruction ofthe Tem plars, the Papal in terdicts, the tra

gedies caused or suffered by the house ofAnjou, and by theem peror— these were full ofam ore perm an en t sign ifican ce .

But, sin ce then , the colossal figure Of feudalism was seenstanding, as it were , on tiptoe

,at Crecy

,for flight from

earth : that was a revolution unparalleled; yet thatwas atrifle , by com parison with the m ore fearful revolutions thatwere m in ing be low the church . By her own in ternalschism s

, by the abom inable spectacle ofa double pope— so

that no man, except through political bias

,could even

guess which was H eaven ’

s vicege ren t,and which the crea

ture ofhe ll— the.

church was rehearsing,as in still earlier

form s she had already rehearsed,those vast rents in her

foundations which no man should ever heal.These were the loftiest peak s of the cloudland in the

JOAN or A RC . 2 17

skies,that to the scientific gazer first caught the colours

ofthe new m orn ing in advan ce. Butthe whole vast rangealike Of swe eping gloom s overhead, dwe lt upon all m editative m inds

,even upon those that could notdistinguish the

tenden cies nor de cipher the form s . It was, therefore , nother own age alon e , as affected by its imm ediate calam itie s

,

that lay with such we ight upon Joanna’s m ind; but her

own age , as on e se ction in a vast m ysterious drama,un

weaving through a cen tury back, and drawing n earer continually to som e dreadful crisis . Cataracts and rapidswere heard roaring ahead; and signs were seen far back

,

by help ofO ld m en’s m em ories

,which an swered se cretly to

sign s n ow com ing forward on the eye , even as locks an swerto keys . It was not wonderful that in such a hauntedsolitude

,with such a haun ted heart

,Joanna should se e

angelic vision s,and hear angelic voices. These voices

whispered to her for ever the duty, self- imposed, of delivering Fran ce . Five years she listened to these m on itoryvoices with in ternal struggles. At length she could resistn o longer. D oubt gave way; and she left her hom e forever in order to presen t herself atthe dauphin ’s court.The education of this poor girl was m ean according to

the presen t stan dard : was in effably grand,according to a

purer philosophic standard : and on ly not good for our

age, because for us it would b e unattainable . She readnothing, for she could n ot read; b ut she had heard othersread parts of the Rom an martyrology. She wept in sym

pathy with the sad M isereres Of the Rom ish Church ; sherose to heaven with the glad trium phan t T e B eams ofRom e :

she drew her com fort and her vital strength from the ritesofthe sam e church. But

,n ext after the se spiritual advan

tages,she owed m ost to the advantage s of her s ituation .

The fountain ofDom remy was on the brink ofa boundlessx — m

218 JOAN OF A RC.

forest ; and it’

was haunted to that degree by fairies, that

the parish priest (cure'

) was obliged to read mass thereOn ce a- year, in order to ke ep them in any decen t bounds.

Fairies are im portant, even in a statistical view : certain

we eds mark poverty in the soil, fairies mark its solitude .

A s sure ly as the wolf retires before cities, does the fairysequester herself from the haun ts ofthe licen sed victualler.

A village is too m uch for her n ervous de licacy : at m ost,

she can tolerate a distan t view of a ham let. W e may

judge,therefore , by the un easin e ss and extra trouble which

they gave to the parson , in what strength the fairies m ustered at D om remy; and, by a satisfactory con sequen ce ,how thin ly sown with m en and wom en m ust have beenthat region even in its inhabited spots. But the fore stsof D om rem y— those were the glories of the land : for inthem abode mysterious powers and an cien t secrets thattowered in to tragic strength.

“ Abbeys there w ere, andabbey windows

,

” “ like M oorish tem ples ofthe H indoos,”

that exercised even prince ly power both in Lorrain e andin the German D iets . These had the ir swe et be lls thatpierced the forests for m any a league atmatins or ve spers,and each its own dreamy legend . Few enough, and scatterede nough, were these abbeys, so as in no degre e to disturbthe de ep solitude ofthe region ; yetmany enough to spreada n etwork or awn ing ofChristian san ctity over what elsem ight have se em ed a heathen wildern ess. This sort of

religious talisman being secured, a man the m ost afraid ofghosts (l ike m yself, suppose , or the reader) becom es arm edin to courage to wander for days in the ir sylvan recesses .

The m oun tains Of the Vosges, on the eastern fron tier ofFran ce , have n ever attracted m uch notice from Europe ,except in 1813—14 for a few brief m on ths

,when they fe ll

within Napoleon’s line ofdefen ce again st the Allies. But

220 JOAN or ARC.

cording to circumstances, leaves a colouring of sanctityover an cient forests, even in those m inds that utterlyrej e ct the legend as a fact.

But, apart from all distinct stories of that order, in

any solitary frontier between two great em pires, as here ,for instan ce , or in the desert between Syria and theEuphrates

,there is an inevitable tenden cy, in m inds of

any deep sensibility, to people the solitudes with phantomimages ofpowers that were ofOld so vast. Joanna, therefore

,in her quiet occupation Of a shepherdess, would b e

led con tinually to brood over the political condition ofher

coun try, by the tradition s of the past no less than by them em en toes ofthe local presen t .M. Michelet, inde ed, says that La Pucelle was not a

shepherdess. I b eg his pardon : she was. What he restsupon I guess pretty well : it is the eviden ce Of a womancalled Haum ette

,the m ost confidential friend Of Joanna.

N ow,she is a good witness

,and a good girl

,and I like

her ; for she makes a natural and affectionate report ofJoanna’s ordinary life . But still

,however good she m ay

b e as a witn e ss, Joanna is better; and she, when speakingto the dauphin , calls herself in the Latin report B ergereta.

Even Haum ette con fesses that Joanna tended she ep in hergirlhood. A nd I believe

,that if Miss Haum ette were

taking cofi'

e e alon e with m e this very even ing (February2, 1847 —in which there would b e no subject for scandalOr for maiden blushes

,because I am an inten se philo

sopher, and Miss H . would b e hard upon four hundredand fifty years Old— she would adm it the following com

m en t upon her eviden ce to b e right. A Fren chman,about

forty years ago, M . Sim ond,in his “ Travels

,

”m en tions

in ciden tally the following hideous scen e as on e steadilyObserved ‘

andwatched b v hims elf in chivalrous Fran ce, not

JOAN or ARC. 2521

very long before the French Revolution : A peasantwasploughing ; and the team that drew his plough was adonkeyand awom an . Both were regularly harn e ssed : both pulledalike . This is b ad enough ; but the Fren chman adds

,

that,in distributing his lashes, the peasan t was Obviously

desirous Of be ing im partial : or, if e ither ofthe yoke - fe llowshad a right to com plain

,certainly it was n ot the donkey.

N ow,in any coun try where such degradation Of females

could b e tolerated by the state of mann ers, a woman Ofdelicacy would shrink from acknowledging

,e ither for her

se lf or her friend,that she had ever been addicted to any

m ode of labour not strictly dom estic; be cause, if On ceown ing herse lf a praedial servan t, she would b e sen siblethat this confess ion exten ded by probability in the hearer’sthoughts to the having in curred indign ities ofthis horriblekind . Haum ette clearly thinks it m ore dign ified for Joannato have been darn ing the stockings Of her horny- hoofedfather

,Mon sieur D ’

A rc, than keeping sheep, lest she m ightthen b e suspected of having ever done som ething worse .

But, luckily, there was n o danger of that: Joanna n everwas in service ; and m y opin ion is

,that her father should

have m ende d his own stockings,s in ce probab ly he was the

party to make the holes in them,as many a better man

than D’

A rc does; m ean ing by that not myself, because ,though probably abetter m an than D ’

A rc, I protest againstdoing anything of the kind . If I lived even with Fridayin Juan Fernandez

,e ither Friday m ust do all the darn ing,

or e lse it m ust go undon e. The better m en that I m ean twere the sailors in the British navy

,every man Of whom

m ends his own stockings . Who e lse is to do it ? D O you

suppose, reader, that the jun ior lords ofthe adm iralty areunder articles to darn for the navy ?The reason

,m eantim e, for my systematic hatred of

222 JOAN OF ARC.

D’

A rc is this . There was a story curren t in France before

the Revolution , fram ed to ridicule the pauper aristocracy,who happen ed to have long pedigrees and short ren t rolls ;viz ., that a head ofsuch a house, dating from the Crusades ,was overheard saying to his son , a Chevalier of StLouis,Chevalier, as

- tu donne’

au cochon amanger !”Now, it is

clearly made out by the surviving evidence , that D’

A rc

would much have preferred con tinuing to say, M afille

as - tu donn e'

au cochon a manger ?”to saying, P ucelle

d’

Orleans , as- tu sauve

'

les j l eurs - de - lys ?” There is an Old

English copy of verses which argue s thus

Ifthe man that turn ips cries,Cry notwhen his father dies,Then

’

tis plain the man had ratherHave a turn ip than his father.

I cannot say that the logic of these verses was everentirely to my satisfaction . I do not see m y way throughit as clearly as could b e wished. But I see m y way m ostclearly through D ’

A rc; and the result is— that he wouldgreatly have preferred notm erely a turn ip to his father,b ut the saving a pound or so of bacon to saving theOrifiamm e ofFrance .

It is probable (asM.Michelet suggests) that the title ofVirgin , or P ucelle, had in itse lf, and apart from the m iraculous stories about her, a se cre t power over the rudesoldiery and partisan chiefs Of that period ; for, in such aperson , they saw a representative man ifestation of the

Virgin Mary, who, in a course Of cen turies,had grown

steadily upon the popular heart.A s to Joanna’s supernatural detection of the dauphin(Charles VII.) am ongst three hundred lords and kn ights,I am surprised atthe credulity which could ever lend itselfto that theatrical juggle. Who adm ires m ore than myself

224 JOAN or ARC.

w ere m ore so), b ut because som e of them wore a seodingsm ile on the ir features— how should she throw her l in ein to so deep a river to angle for a king, where m any a

gay creature was sporting that masqueraded as kings indress ! Nay, even m ore than any true king would havedone : for, in Southey

’

s version of the story, the dauphin

says,by way of trying the Virgin’s magnetic sympathy

with royalty,On the thron e,

I the while m ingling with the menial throng,Som e courtier shall b e seated.

”

This usurper is even crown ed the j ewelled crownshin es on a m en ial’s head .

”Bra really, that is nu peu

fort;”and the m ob of spe ctators m ight raise a scruple

whether our friend the jackdaw upon the thron e , and thedauphin him self

,were n ot graz ing the shin s of treason .

For the dauphin could not lend m ore than belonged tohim . According to the popular n otion

,he had n o crown

for him self ; con sequently n on e to lend, on any preten cewhatever

,un til the con secrated Maid should take him to

Rhe im s . This was the popular notion in Fran ce, But

certain ly it was the dauphin ’s in terest to support thepopular notion , as he m ean t to use the services ofJoanna.

For, if he were king already, what was it that she could do

for him beyond Orlean s? That is to say, what m ore than a

m ere ly military service could she render him ? A nd,above

all,ifhe were king without a coronation , and without the

oil from the sacred ampulla,what advan tage was yetopen

to him by celerity above his competitor,the English b oy?

Now was to b e a race for a coronation : he that shouldwin that race carried the superstition Of Fran ce alongwith him : he that should first b e drawn from the oven s ofRhe im s, was under that superstition baked into a king.

JOAN or A RC. 225

La Pucelle,before she could b e allowed to practise as a

warrior,was put through her manual and platoon exercise

as a pupil in divinity, at the b ar of six em in en t m en in

wig s . According to Southey (v. 393, Book I I I .,in the

original edition ofhis Joan ofA rc she appalled thedoctors .” It

’

s n ot easy to do that: but they had som e

reason to fe e l bothered, as that surgeon would assuredlyfe el bothered, who, upon proceeding to dissect a subject,should find the subje ct retaliating as a dissector upon himself, e spe cially ifJoanna ever m ade the spe ech to themwhich occupies v. 354—391, B . III. It is a double impossib ility : l st, because a piracy from Tindal

’

s Christian ityas Old as the Creation”— a piracy dparte ante, and by thre ecen turies ; 2dly, it is quite con trary to the eviden ce on

Joanna’s trial . Southey’s “ Joan” of A .D . 1796 (Cottle ,Bristol) tells the doctors, am ongst other secrets, that she

n ever in her life attended— 1st, Mass ; n or 2d, the Sacra

nental table ; nor 3d, Con fession . I n the m ean tim e,all

this de istical con fession ofJoan na’s, besides be ing suicidalfor the in te rest Of her cause

,is opposed to the deposition

upon both trials. The very best witn e ss called from firstto last deposes that Joanna attended these rites of he r

church even too Often ; was taxed with doing so; and, byblushing

,own ed the charge as a fact, though certain ly n ot

as a fault. Joanna was a girl of natural piety,that saw

God in forests, and hills, and foun tain s ; but d id not the

less se ek him in chapels and con secrated oratories .This peasan t girl was self- educated through her own

natural m editativen ess . If the reader turns to that divin epassage in “

'Paradise Regain ed,

” which Milton has putinto the m outh ofour Saviour when first en tering the wilderness

,and musing upon the tenden cy ofthose great im

pulses growing within himselfi

226 JOAN or ARC.

Oh, what amultitude ofthoughts atonceA waken

’

d in m e swarm ,whil e I consider

What from within I fee l myself, and hearW hat from without com es Often to my ears ,I ll sorting with my present state compared !When I was yeta child, no ch ildish playTo m e was pleasing; al l my m ind was setSerious to learn and know, and then ce to doW hat might b e public good; m yselfI thoughtBorn to that end ”

he w ill have som e n otion Of the vast reverie s whichbrooded over the heart OfJoanna in early girlhood

,when

the wings were budding that should carry her from Orlean sto Rhe im s ; when the golden chariot was dim ly revealingitself

,that should carry her from the kingdom ofFrance

D elivered to the e ternal kingdom .

It is notrequisite,for the honour ofJoanna, nor is there ,

in this place,room

,to pursue her brief career of action .

That,though wonderful

,form s the earthly part of he r

story : the spiritual part is the sain tly passion Of her imprisonm en t . trial

,and exe cution It is unfortunate , there

fore , for Southey’

s“ Joan ofA rc (which, however, should

alwa ys b e regarded as aj uvenile effort), that, precise ly whenher real glory begin s

,the poem ends. But this lim itation

ofthe intere st grew,n o doubt

,from the con strain t in sepa

rab ly attached to the law ofepic un ity. Joanna’s historyb isects in to two oppos ite hem ispheres, and both could nothave been presented to the eye in on e poem ,

un less by sacrificing all un ity ofthem e

,or e lse by involving the earlier

half, as a narrative episode,in the latter; which, however,

m ight have been done,for it m ight have been commun i

cated to a fellow- prisoner,or a con fessor

,by Joanna her

self. It is sufficien t, as concern s this section of Joanna’s

l ife , to say that she fulfilled, to the he ight ofher prom ises,the restoration of the prostrate throne . France had he

228 JOAN or A RC .

she comm itted was, to lend the sahction Of her presence tocoun sels which she had ceased to approve. But she had

now accom plished the capital Objects which her own vision s

had dictated. These involved all the re st . Errors were

n ow le ss importan t; and doubtless it had now becom e

m ore difficult for herse lf to pronoun ce authen tically whatw ere errors. The noble girl had achieved, as by a rapture Of

m otion,the capital end ofclearing outa fre e space around

her sovere ign , giving him the power to m ove his arm s w ith

effect; and, secondly, the inappreciable end Ofwinn ing forthat sovere ign what se em ed to all Fran ce the heaven lyratification Ofhis rights

,by crown ing him with the an cien t

solem n ities. She had m ade it im possible for the Englishn ow to step before her. They were caught in an irretrievab le blunder

,owing partly to discord am ongst the

un cles ofH en ry VI .,partly to a wan t offunds

,b ut partly

to the very im poss ibility which they believed to press w ithtenfold force upon any Fren ch attem pt to forestal l the irs .

They laughed at such a thought ; and whilst they laughed,she did it. H enceforth the single redress for the Englishof this capital oversight

,b utwhich n ever could have re

dressed it effe ctual ly,was to vitiate and tain t the corona

tion ofCharles VII. as the work ofa witch. That policy.

and notm alice (as M . Miche let is so happy to be lieve), wasthe m oving prin ciple in the subsequen t prosecution of

Joanna. Un less they unhinged the force ofthe first coronation in the popular m ind

,by associating it with power

given from he l l, they fe lt that the sceptre Of the invaderwas broken .

But she,the child that

, at n ineteen , had wrought wonders so great for Fran ce

, was she not e lated ? Did she n ot

lose, as m en so Often have lost,all sobriety of m ind when

standing upon the pinnacle ofsuccess so giddy ? Let her

JOAN or A RC. 229

enemies declare. During the progress of her m ovem en t,and in the cen tre offerocious struggle s , she had man ife stedthe tem per Of her fe elings

,by the pity which she had every

where expre ssed for the suffering en em y. She forwardedto the English leaders a touching invitation to un ite withthe Fren ch, as brothers, in a comm on crusade again st infidels

,thus open ing the road for a soldierly retreat. She

in terposed to protect the captive or the wounded— she

m ourn ed over the excesses ofher coun trym en— she threwherself offher horse to kn ee l by the dying English soldier,and to com fort him with such m in istration s

,physical or

spiritual,as his s ituation allowed. Noleb at

,says the

eviden ce,

uti ense suO,aut quem quam interficere .

”She

sheltered the English,that invoked her aid

,in her own

quarters. She wept as she behe ld,stre tched on the fie ld

Of battle, so m any brave en em ies that had died without

confession . A nd, as regarded herse lf, her e lation expresseditself thus z— On the day when she had fin ished her work,she wept; for she kn ew that, when her triumphal task wasdon e

,her end m ust b e approaching. H eraspiration s pointed

on ly to a place,which seem ed to her m ore than usual ly full

ofnatural pie ty, as on e in which it would give her pleasureto die . A nd she uttered, be twe en sm i les and tears, as aw ish that in expressibly fascinated her heart, and yetwashalf- fan tastic

,a broken prayer that God would re turn her

to the solitudes from which he had drawn her, and suffer

h er to becom e a shepherde ss on ce m ore . It was a naturalprayer

,be cause nature has laid a n ecessity upon every

hum an heart to seek for rest,and to shrink from torm en t.

Yet,again

,it'was a half- fan tastic prayer, because, from

childhood upwards,vision s that she had n o power to m is

trust,and the voices which sounded in her ear for ever,

had long sin ce persuaded her m ind, that for her no such

230 JOAN OF ARC .

prayer could b e granted. TOO well she felt that her m iss ion must b e worked outto the end, and that the end wasnow athand. All wen t wrong from this tim e . She her

se lf had created thefi nds outofwhich the Fren ch restora

t ion should grow; b ut she was not suffered to witn esstheir deve lopm en t, or the ir prosperous application . More

than on e m ilitary plan was en tered upon which she didn ot approve . But she still continued to expose her person as before . Severe wounds had not taught her caution .

A nd at length, in a sortie from Compeigne (whetherthrough treacherous collusion on the part Of her own

friends is doubtful to this day), she was m ade prison er bythe Burgundian s

,and finally surrendered to the English .

Now cam e her trial . This trial, m oving ofcourse underEnglish influen ce

, was conducte d in chie f by the Bishopof Beauvais . He was a Fren chm an , sold to English interests

,and hoping

,by favour of the English leaders, to

reach the highe st preferm en t. Bishop thatart, A rchbishop

that shalt be, Cardinal thatmayesthe, were the words that

sounded con tinually in his ear; and doubtless a whisperofvisions still higher

,ofa triple crown

,and fe et upon the

n e cks of kings,som e tim es stole in to his heart. M. Mi

che let is anxious to ke ep us in m ind that this bishop wasb ut an agen t of the English . True . But it does not

better the case for his coun trym an— that,be ing an accom

plice in the crim e,m aking him se lf the leader in the perse

cution against the helple ss girl,he was willing to b e all

this in the spirit,and with the con scious vilen ess ofa cat

’s

paw. Never from the foundation s of the earth was theresuch a trial as this, if it were laid open in all its beautyOf defence , and all its he llishn ess of attack. Oh

,child of

France ! shepherdess, peasan t girl ! trodden under foot byall around thee, how I honour thy flashing intellect, quick

232 JOAN or ARC.

such an argum ent as we ighty, whereas it is but a varied

expre ssion ofrude Mahom etan m etaphysics. H er an swer

to this, if there were room to place the whole in a clearl ight

,was as shattering as it was rapid. Another thought

to en trap her by asking what language the angelic visiters

of her solitude had talked; as though heaven ly coun se lscould wan t polyglot interpreters for every word, or that

God n e eded language atall in whispering thoughts to a

human heart. Then cam e a worse devil, who asked her

whether the archangel Michae l had appeared naked. N ot

comprehending the vile in sinuation , Joanna, whose povertysuggested to her simplicity that it m ight b e the costliness

of suitable robes which caused the demur, asked them ifthey fan cied God, who clothed the flowers of the valleys,unable to find raim en t for his servants. The an swer OfJoanna m oves a sm ile of tendern ess

,b ut the disappoin t

m en t of her judges makes on e laugh exultingly. Otherssucceeded by troops

,who upbraided her with leaving her

father ; as if that greater Father, whom she believed herse lfto have been serving

,did not retain the power Of dispens

ing with his own rules,or had not said, that for a less

cause than martyrdom,man and woman should leave both

father and m other.

O n Easter Sunday, when the trial had been long proceeding , the poor girl fe ll so ill as to cause a belief that shehad be en poison ed. It was notpoison . Nobody had anyin terest in hasten ing a death so certain . M. M ichelet,whose sym pathies with all fe e lings are so quick, that on ewould gladly see them always as justly directed

,reads the

case m ost truly. Joanna had atwo - fold malady. She was

visited by aparoxysm ofthe com plaint called home- sickness ;the cruel nature ofher im prisonm en t

,and its length

,could

not but point her solitary thoughts, in darkn ess and in

JOAN or A RC . 233

chain s (for chain ed she was), to D om remy. A nd the season , which was the m ost heaven ly period of the spring

,

added stings to this yearn ing. That was on e ofher maladies— nostalgia, as m edicin e calls it; the other was wearin ess and exhaustion from daily com bats with malice . She

saw that everybody hated her, and thirsted for her blood;nay, many kind -hearted creature s that would have pitiedher profoundly

,as regarded all political charges, had the ir

n atural fe elings warped by the belief that she had dealingswith fiendish powers. She kn ew she was to die ; that wasnot the m isery : the m isery was

,that this con summation

could notb e reached without so m uch in term ediate strife,

as if she were con tending for som e chan ce (where chan cewas non e) Of happin ess, or were dream ing for a m om en tOf escaping the in evitable . Why

,then

,did she contend ?

Knowing that she would reap nothing from answeringher persecutors

,why did she not retire by silen ce from

the superfluous con test ? It was because her quick and

eager loyalty to truth would not suffer her to see it darken ed by frauds

,which she could expose

,but others, even

Of candid l isten ers, perhaps, could not; it was throughthat im perishable grandeur of soul

,which taught her to

subm itm eekly and without’

a struggle to her pun ishm en t,b ut taught her not to subm it— no

,n ot for a m om en t— to

calum ny as to facts, or to m iscon struction as to m otives .

Beside s, there were secretaries all around the court takingdown her words. That was m ean t for no good to her.

Butthe end does not always correspond to the m ean ing.

A nd Joanna m ight say to herself— these words that willb e used again st m e to-m orrow and the n ext day, perhapsin som e nobler

’

gen eration may rise again for my justification . Yes

,Joanna, they are rising even now in Paris, and

for more than justification.

K 2

234 JOAN or ARC.

Woman , s ister- there are som e things which you do not

execute as we l l as your brother, man ; no,nor ever will .

Pardon m e,if I doubt whether you will ever produce a

great poet from your choirs, or aMozart, or a Phidias, ora M ichael Angelo, or a great philosopher, or a great

scholar. By which last is m ean t— n ot on e who dependss im ply on an infin ite m em ory

,b utalso on an infin ite and

e lectrical power of com binat ion ; bringing together fromthe four winds, l ike the ange l ofthe re surre ction

,what e lse

were dust from dead m en’

s bon e s,in to the un ity ofbreath

ing life . If you can create yourse lves into any Of thesegreat creators

,why have you not?

Yet,s ister wom an , though I cannot con sen t to find 3

Mozart or aMichael Ange lo in your se x,che erful ly

,and

with the love that burn s in depths Of adm iration , I ao

knowledge that you can do on e thing as we ll as the best Ofus m en— a greater thing than even Milton is known tohave don e

,or Michae l Ange lo— you can die grandly

,and

as goddesses would die,were goddesses m ortal . If any

distan t worlds (which may b e the case) are so far ahead Of

us Te l lurian s in optical resources,as to see distin ctly

through the ir te lescopes all that w e do on earth, what isthe grandest sight to which we ever treat them ? StPe ter’sat Rom e

,do you fan cy, on Easter Sunday, or Luxor, or

perhaps the H imalayas ? Oh no ! m y friend : suggestsom ething better; these are baubles to them ; they se e inother worlds, in the ir own

,far better toys Of the sam e

kind. These , take m y word for it, are nothing. D O you

give it up ? The fin est thing,then

, we have to show themis a scaffold on the m orn ing of execution . I assure youthere is a strong m uster in those far telescopic worlds,on any such m orning, of those who happen to find themselves occupying the right hem isphere for a peep at us.

236 JOAN OF ARC.

low spaces in every direction for the creation of air- cur

ren ts. The pile “ struck terror,” says M . Miche let, “ by

its he ight;”and

,as usual, the English purpose in this is

viewed as on e Ofpure malign ity. But there are two ways

of explain ing all that. It is probable that the purpose

was m erciful . On the circum stan ces of the execution Ishall not l inger. Yet

,to mark the alm ost fatal fe licity of

M. M iche let in finding outwhatever m ay injure the English nam e

,at a m om en t when every reader will b e in te

rested in Joanna’s personal appearan ce , it is really edifyingto n otice the ingenuity by which he draws into light froma dark corn er a very unjust accoun t Of it

,and n eglects

,

though lying upon the high - road,a very pleasing on e .

Both are from English pen s. Grafton , a chron icler, butl ittle read

,be ing a stifi

'

n eck ed John Bull,thought fit to

say, that no wonder Joanna should b e a virgin , sin ce herfoule face was a satisfactory solution of that particular

m erit. Holin shead,on the other hand

,a chron icler som e

what later, every way m ore important

,and at on e tim e

un iversally read,has given a very pleasing testim ony to

the interesting character Of Joanna’s person and engagingmann ers. Ne ither of these m en l ived till the followingcentury, so that personally this eviden ce is non e at all .

Grafton sullen ly and care lessly believed as he wished tobelieve ; Holin shead took pain s to inquire, and reportsundoubtedly the gen eral impression ofFran ce . But I citethe case as illustrating M. Michelet

’

s candour.

”

Amongstthe many ebul litions ofM. Michelet’

s fury against us poorEnglish , are four which w ill b e l ikely to amuse the reader; and they arethe more conspicuous in collision with the justice which he som etim es

does us, and the very indignant admiration which, under som e aspects,he grants to us.

1. Our Engl ish l iterature he admires with some gnashing of teeth.

He pronounces it “fine andsom bre,” but, I lament to add, “ sceptical,

JOAN OR ARC . 237

The circum stantial in cidents Of the execution , un le sswith m ore space than I can now command, I should b e

Judaic, Satanic— ln a word, antichristian . That Lord Byron shouldfigure as am ember of this diabolical corporation , will not surprise m en .

Itwill surprise them to hear that Milton is one of its Satan ic leaders .

Many are the generous and eloquent Frenchm en , besides Chateaubriand,who have, in the course ofthe last thirty years, nobly suspended their ownburn ing nationality, in order to render am ore rapturous homage atthefeet ofMilton ; and som e ofthem have raisedMilton al m ost toa level withange lic natures. N otone of them has thought of looking for him belowthe earth. A s to Shakspere, M. Michelet detects in him am ost extraordinary mare ’s n est. Itis this : he does notrecollect to have seen thenam e of God

”in any part of his works . On reading such words

,it is

natural to rub one ’s eyes, and suspect that all one has ever seen in thi sworld may have been a pure ocular delusion . In particular, I begin myself to suspect, that the word “ lagloire

”n ever occurs in any Parisian

journal. The great English nation ,” says M. Michelet, “ has one im

m en se profound vice, to wit,

“ pride . Why, real ly that may b e trueb utwe have a n eighbour not absolutely clear of an imm en se profoundvice, ” as l ike ours in colour and shape as cherry to cherry. In

’

short, M .

Michelet thinks us, byfits and starts, adm irable , on ly that we are detestable ; and he would adore som e of our authors, were it not that so lntensely he could have wished to kick them .

2. M. Miche let thinks to lodge an arrow in our sides by a very odd remark upon Thomas aKempis : which is, that a man ofany conceivableEuropean blood— aFin lander, suppose , or a Zantiote— m ight have written Tom ; on ly notan Englishman . Whether an Englishman could haveforged Tom ,

must remain amatter of doubt, unl ess the thing had beentried long ago. That problem was intercepted for ever by Tom ’

s perversen ess in choosing to manufacture him self. Yet, since nobody is betteraware than M. Michelet that th is very point ofKempis having manufactured Kempis is furiously and hopelessly litigated, three or four nationsclaim ing to have forged his work for him , the shocking old doubt wi llraise its snakyhead once m ore— whether this forger, who rests in somuchdarkn ess, m ight not, after al l, b e Of English blood . Tom ,

it may befeared, is known to modern English literature chiefly by an irreverentm ention of his nam e in a line Of Peter Pindar’s (Dr Wolcot) fifty yearsback, where he is described as Kempis Tom ,

Who clearly shows the way to Kingdom Com e.

Few in these days can have read him , unless in the Methodist version of

JohnW esley. Amongst those few, however, happensto b emyself; whicharose from the accident of having, when a boy Ofe leven, received ammofthe “ De Imitatione Christi,” as a bequest from a relation, who died

38 JOAN or ARC.

unwilling to relate . I should fear to injure, by imperfect

report, a martyrdom which to myself appears so un speak

very young; from which cause, and from the external prettiness of the

book,be ing a Glasgow reprint, bythe celebrated Foulis, and gaily bound,

I was induced to look into it; and finally read it many tim es over, partlyoutofsom e sympathywhich, even in those days , I had with its simplicityand devotional fervour ; b utmuch m ore from the savage delight I foundin laughing at Tom

’

s Latinity . That, I freely grant to M. Michelet, isin im itable . Yet, after all , it is not certain whether the original wasLatin . But, however thatmay have been , ifit is possible thatM. Michelet* can b e accurate in saying that there are no less than six ty French

versions (not editions, Observe , b ut separate versions) existing ofthe “ DeIm itatione ,

”how prodigious must have been the adaptation of the book

to the religious heart ofthe fifteenth century ! Excepting the Bible, b utexcepting thaton ly, in Protestant lands, no book known to man has hadthe sam e distinction . Itis the m ost marvellous bibliographical fact onrecord.

3. Our English girls, it seem s, are as faul ty in one way as we Englishmales in another. None Ofus m en could have written the Opera Omn iaofMr aKempis ; neither could any ofour girls have assum ed male attirelike La P ucelle. Butwhy? Because, says Michelet, English girls andGerman think so much of an indecorum . W e ll, that is a good fault,gen erally speaking . ButM. Michelet ought to have rem embered afactin the martyrologies which justifies both parties— the French heroin e fordoing, and the general choir of English girls for not doing. A femalesaint, specially renowned in France, had, for a reason as weighty asJoanna

’

s— viz . expressly to shield her m odesty am ongst m en— w orn a

male m ilitary harness . That reason and that example authorised LaP ucelle; b utour English girls, as a body, have seldom any such reason ,

and certainly no such saintly example, to plead. This excuses them .

“IfM . M icheletcan be accurate — However, on consideration , this

statem ent does notdepend on Michelet. The bibliographer Barbier hasabsolute ly specified sixty in a separate dissertation , soix ante traductions,amongst those even that have not escaped the search. The Ital ian translations are said to b e thirty. A s to m ere editions, notcounting the earlyMSS. for half-a- century before printing was introduced, those in Latinamount to two thousand, and those in French to one thousan d. Mean

tim e, itis very clear to m e that this aston ishing popularity, so entirelyunparalleled in l iterature, could not have existed ex cept in RomanCatholic tim es, nor subsequently have l ingered in any Protestant land.Itwas the denial ofScripture fountains to thirsty lands which made thisslender rill ofScripture truth so passionately welcom e.

240 JOAN or ARC.

m an is capab le of thinking m ore highly of La P ucelle

than even her adm iring countrym en— I shall, in parting,al lude to on e or two traits in Joanna’s dem eanour on the

scaffold, and to on e or two in that ofthe bystanders, which

authorise m e in question ing an opin ion of his upon this

m artyr’s firm n ess . The reader ought to b e rem inded thatJoannaD ’

A rc was subjected to an unusually unfair trial of

opin ion . A ny of the e lder Christian m artyrs had not

much to fear ofpersonal ran cour. The martyr was chieflyregarded as the en emy of Caesar; at tim e s, also, whereany knowledge of the Christian faith and m orals existed,with the enm ity that arises spon tan eously in the worldlyagainst the spiritual. But the martyr, though disloyal,was not supposed to be, therefore , anti- national ; and stillless was individually hateful. What was hated (ifanything)belonged to his class

,not to him self separate ly. N ow,

Joanna,if hated atall

, was hated personally, and in Rouenon national grounds. Hen ce there would b e a certain tyof calum ny arising again st her

,such as would n ot affect

m artyrs in general. That being the case , it would followofn ecessity that som e people would im pute to her a willingn ess to recan t. No innocen ce could escape that. N ow,

had she really testified this willingn ess on the scaffold, itwould have argued nothing at all but the weakn ess ofagen ial nature shrinking from the in stan t approach oftor

m ent. A nd those will often pity that weakn ess m ost, who,in the ir own person s

,would yield to i t least. Meantim e

,

there n ever was a calum ny uttered that drew less supportfrom the recorded circum stan ces. It rests upon nopositive

testimony, and it has a we ight of contradicting testimony

athand,I make my quotations from afri end

’

s copy ofMr Walter Kelly’strans lati on, which seem s tom e faithful

, Spirited, and idiomaticallyEnglish—1iab le, in fact, onl y to the single reproach ofoccasional provincialisms.

JOAN or ABC . 241

to stem . A nd yet, strange to say, M . Michele t, who at

tim e s seem s to adm ire the Maid ofA rc as m uch as I do,is the on e sole writer am ongst herfriends who lends som ecoun tenan ce to this odious slander. His words are

,that

,

if she did n ot utter this word recant w ith her lips, she

uttered it in her heart. Whe ther she said the word isun certain : b ut I affirm that she thought it .

”

N ow,I afiirm that she did n ot; not in any sen se ofthe

word “thought

”applicable to the case . H ere is Fran ce

calum n iating La P ucelle : here is Englan d defending her.

M . Miche le t can on ly m ean that, on d priori prin ciple s,e very wom an m ustb e presum ed liable to such aweakn essthat Joannawas a wom an ; ergo, that she was liable to sumaweakn ess . That is

,he on ly supposes her to have uttere d

the word by an argum en t which presum es it im possiblefor anybody to have don e otherwise . I

,on the con trary

, .

throw the onus of the argum en t not on presum able tendencies ofnature

,b uton the known facts ofthat m orn ing’s

exe cution , as re corded by m ultitudes. What e lse , I dem and

,than m ere we ight of m etal

,absolute n obility of

deportm en t, broke the vast line of battle then arrayedagain st her ? What e lse b uther m eek, sain tly dem eanour

won,from the en em ies that till n ow had be lieved her a

witch,tears of rapturous adm iration ? T en thousand

m en,

” saysM .M iche le t him self ten thousand m en weptand

‘

ofthese ten thousan d the m ajority we re political e n em ies kn itted together by cords ofsuperstition .

‘What e lsewas it b ut her con stan cy, un ited with her angelic ge n tlen ess, that drove the fanatic English soldier— who had

sworn to throw a faggot on her scaffold,as his tribute of

abhorren ce,that did so, that fulfilled his vow - sudden ly

to turn away apen iten t for life , saying everywhere that hehad seen a clove rising upon wings to heaven from the as hes

L— l n .

242 JOAN or ABC .

whe re she had stood ? What e ls e drove the execution erto kn e e l at e very shrin e for pardon to his share in the

tragedy ? A nd, ifall this were in sufficien t, then I cite thec losing act ofher l ife , as val id on her behalf, w ere all otherte stim on ies again st he r. The execution er had bee n directedto apply his torch from be low . H e did so. The fierysm oke rose upwards in billowing volum e s . A D om in icanm onk was then standing alm ost athe r side . Wrapped upin his subl im e office

,he saw notthe danger

,b ut stil l pe r

sisted in his prayers . Even then , when the last en emy wasracing upthe fiery stairs to se ize her, even at that m om en tdid this n oblest ofgirls think on ly for him

,the on e friend

that would notforsake her,and notfor herself; bidding him

with her last breath to care for his own preservation,b ut

to leave her to God. That girl, whose latest breath ascendedin this subl im e expre ss ion ofself- ob l ivion

,did notutter the

word recant e ither with her l ips or in her heart . No she

did not,though on e should rise from the dead to swear it“a s a

Bishop ofBeauvais ! thy victim died in fire upon a scaf

fold— thou upon a down b ed. But for the departingm inutes oflife , both are often tim es alike . At the farewe llcrisis, when the gates of death are open ing, and flesh isresting from its struggles

,oftentim e s the tortured and the

torturer have the sam e truce from carnal torm ent ; bothsink together in to sle ep ; toge ther both som etim es kindleinto dream s. When the m ortal m ists were gathering fastupon you two, bishop and shepherd girl— when the pavilions of life were closing up their shadowy curtain s about

you— letus try, through the gigantic gloom s, to decipherthe flying features ofyour separate visions.The shepherd girl that had delivered Fran ce— she, from

her dungeon, she , from her baiting at the stake , she . from

244 JOAN or ARC.

dream,saw D om remy. That foun tain, of which the wit~

n esses spoke so m uch, showed itself to your eyes in purem orn ing dews : b utn e ither dews, nor the holy dawn , couldclean se away the bright spots of inn ocen t blood upon itssurface . By the fountain , bishop, you saw awoman seated,that hid her face . Butas you draw n ear

,the woman raise s

her wasted features . Would D om remy know them againfor the features of her child ? Ah

,b ut you know them ,

bishop,we ll ! Oh

,m ercy ! what a groan was that which

the servants,waiting outside the bishop’s dream at his

bedside,heard from his labouring heart

,as atthis m om en t

he turn ed away from the foun tain and the wom an,seeking

rest in the forests afar ofl'

. Yetnotso to escape the wom an,

whom on ce again he m ust behold before he dies. I n the

forests to which he prays for pity,will he find a re spite ?

What a tumult,what a gathering of fe et is there ! I n

glades,where on ly wild deer should run

,arm ies and na

t ion s are assembling; towering in the fluctuating crowdare phantom s that belong to departed hours . There isthe great English Prince

,Regen t ofFran ce . There is m y

Lord ofWin chester,the princely cardinal, that died and

m ade no sign . There is the Bishop of Beauvais, c lingin gto the shelter of thickets. What building is that whichhands so rapid are raising ? Is it a martyr’s scaffold ?Will they burn the child ofD om remy a second tim e ? Noit is a tribunal that rises to the clouds; and two nationsstand around it

,waiting for a trial . Shal l my Lord of

Beauvais sit again upon the judgm en t - seat, and againnumber the hours for the inn ocen t ? Ah no ! he is theprisoner at the b ar. Already al l is waiting : the m ightyaudien ce is gathered

,the Court is hurrying to their seats,

.the witn esses are arrayed, the trum pets are sounding, the

j udge is taking his place. Oh ! but this is sudden . My

JOAN or ABC. 45

lord,have you no counsel ?

“Counsel I have none : in heavenabove

,or on earth beneath

,coun sellor there is non e n ow

that would take a brief from me : all are silent .” I s it,

indeed,com e to this ? Alas ! the tim e is short

,the tumult

is wondrous, the crowd stre tche s away in to infin ity, b ut

yet I will search in it for som ebody to take your brief : Iknow ofsom ebody that will b e your coun sel . W ho 1s thisthat com eth from Dom remy ? Who is she in bloody coronation robes from Rhe im s ? Who is she that com eth w ithblacken ed flesh from walking the furnaces ofBouen ? Thisis she , the shepherd girl, coun sellor that had n on e for her

se lf,whom I choose

,bishop

,for yours. She it is, I engage ,

that shall take m y lord’

s brief. She it is, bishop, thatwould plead for you : yes, bishop, SHE— when heaven andearth are silent.

THEI GASUISTRY OFROMAN MEALS.

GREAT m isconception s have always prevailed about theRoman dinner. D inn er [coma] was the on ly m eal whichthe Romans as a nation took. It was no acciden t, b utarose out of the ir whole social e conom y. This I shallendeavour to show, by runn ing through the history ofaRoman day. Rideutem dicere verum quid veidt? A nd the

course of this review will expose on e or two importan ttruths in an cien t political econom y, which have be en too

m uch overlooked.

With the lark it was that the Rom an rose . Not thatthe earliest lark rises so early in Latium as the earliestlark in England; that is, during summ er : b ut then , on theother hand, n e ither does it ever rise so late . The Roman

citizen was stirring with the dawn— which,allowing for

the shorter longest- day and longer shortest - day of Rom e,

you may cal l about four in summ er— about seven in

winter. Why did he do this ? Because he wen t to b ed ata very early hour. But why did he do that ? By backing in this way, we shall surely back in to the very we ll oftruth : always, where it is possible, letus have the pourquoiof the pourquoi. The Roman wen t to b ed early for tworemarkable reasons. l st

, b ecause in Rom e. built for a

248 THE CASUI STRY OF ROMAN MEAns.

have all the rest ofEurope to boot. Such be ing the case ,the earth, be ing (as awhole) in that Pagan era so incom

parab ly poorer, could not in the Pagan e ra support the e x

pen se ofm ain tain ing great empires in cold latitude s . H er

purse would notreach that cost. Wherever she undertookin those early ages to rear m an in great abundan ce, it m ustb e where nature would con sen t to work in partn ersh ipwith herself; where warmth was to b e had for n othing ;where clothes were n ot so e ntirely indispen sable

,b utthat

a ragged fe llow m ight still ke ep him self warm ; whereslight shelter m ight serve ; and where the soil

, if n ot

absolute ly richer in reversionary wealth, was m ore easilycultured. Nature

,in those days of in fan cy

,must com e

forward liberally,and take a number of shares in every

n ew join t- stock con cern , before it could m ove . Man,

therefore,went to b ed early in those ages

,s imply because

his worthy m other earth could n ot afford him candles .

She, good old lady (or good young lady, for geologistsknow not* whether she is in that stage of her progresswhich corresponds to grey hairs

,or to infan cy, or to a

certain age— she

,good lady

,would certainly have shud

dered to hear any of her nation s asking for candles .

Candles, indeed !”she would have said;

“who ever

heard of such a thing? and with so much excellent daylight runn ing to waste, as I have provided gratis! Whatwill the wretches wan t n ext ?”

The daylight furn ished gratis was certainly unde

“Geologists know not — In man , the sixtieth part of six thousand

years is a very venerable age . Butas to the planet, as to our little earth ,

instead of arguing dotage , six thousand years m ay have scarcely carriedh er beyond babyhood. Som e people think she is cutting her first teeth ;som e think her in her teens . But, seriously, it is a very interesting

gob lem . Do the sixty centuri es ofour earth imply youth, maturity, ortage ?

THE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS. 249

n iable in its quality,and quite sufficien t for all purposes

that were hon est. Sen e ca, even in his own luxuriousperiod

,called those m en lueifugce,

”and by other ugly

nam es,who lived chiefly by candle - light. None b ut rich

and luxurious m en,nay, even am ongst these , n on e b ut

idlers,did live or could live by candle - light . A n imm en se

majority of m en in Rom e n ever lighted a candle,un le ss

som etim es in the early dawn . A nd this custom ofRom e

was the custom also of all nation s that lived round the

great lake of the Mediterran ean . I n Athens,Egypt

,

Palestin e,Asia Minor

,everywhere

,the an cien ts wen t to

b ed,like good boys, from seven to n in e o

’clock The

Turks and other people who have succeeded to the station sand the habits ofthe an cien ts, do so at this day.

The Roman,therefore , who saw no joke in sitting roun d

a table in the dark, wen t offto b ed as the darkn e ss began .

Everybody did so. Old Numa Pom pilius him self wasobliged to trundle Offin the dusk. Tarquin ius m ight b e avery superb fe llow; but I doubt whether he ever saw a

farthing rushlight. A nd, though it m ay b e thought thatplots and conspiracies would flourish in such a city of

Everywhere the a/ncients wentto bed, like good boys, from seven to

nin e o’

clock :”— A s I am perfectly serious , I must b eg the reader, who

fancies any joke in all this, to consider what an imm ense differen ce itm ust have made to the earth , con sidered as a steward of her own re

sources— whether great nation s, in a period when their resources were sofeebly deve loped, did, or did not, for many centuries , require candles ;and

,I may add

,fire . The five heads of human expenditure are— 1 .

Food; 2 . Shelter; 3. Clothing; 4. Fue l ; 5. Light. A ll w ere pitched on

a lower scale in the Pagan era; and the two last were alm ost ban ishedfrom ancient housekeeping. What a great reliefth is must have been toour good m other the earth ! who atfirstwas obliged to request of h erch ildren that they would settle round the Mediterran ean . She could noteven afford them water

,un less they would come and fetch it themselves

outofa common tank or cistern.

250 THE CASUISTRY or ROMAN MEALS.

darkne ss, it is to b e considered, that the conspirators

them se lves had no m ore candles than hon est m en : both

parties were in the dark.

Be ing up, then ,and stirring not long after the lark,

what m ischief did the Roman go about first ? N ow- a

days,he would have taken a pipe or a cigar. But

,alas

for the ignoran ce ofthe poor heathen creature s ! they hadn e ither on e nor the other. I n this poin t

,I musttax our

m other earth with be ing really too stingy. I n the case of

the candles,I approve of her parsim ony. Much m ischie f

is brewed by candle - light. But it was com ing it toostrong to allow n o tobacco. Many aw ild fe l low in Rom e ,

your Gracchi, Syllas, Catilin es, would not have played

h and Tomm y ” in the way they did , if they couldhave soothed the ir angry stomachs with a cigar : a pipehas intercepted m any an evil schem e . But the thing ispast he lping n ow . At Rom e you m ust do as

“ they does”

at Rom e . So, after shaving (supposing the age of the

Barbati to b e past), what is the first busin ess that our

Boman will undertake ? Forty to on e he is a poor m an .

born to look upwards to his fe llow -m en— and n otto lookdown upon anybody b ut slave s. H e goes

,therefore

,to

the palace of som e grandee , som e top- sawyer ofthe sena

torian order. This great m an,for all his greatn ess, has

turn ed out even soon er than him self. For he also hashad n o candles and no cigars; and he we ll kn ows that ,before the sun looks in to his portals , all his halls will b eoverflowing and buzzing with the m atin susurrus of cour

tiers— the “m an e It is as m uch as his po~

“The mane salutwntes — There can b e n o doubt that the levees of

modern princes and m inisters have been inherited from this ancient usageOfRhin e ; one which belonged to Rom e republican

, as wel l as Rome impen al . The fiction in our modern practice is— that we wait upon the

252 THE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS.

houses we re burned along w ith the house : and in one of

these the pigs, by acciden t, were roasted to a turn . M e

m orab le were the results for all future China and futurecivilisation . Ping

,who (like all Chinabeside)had hitherto

eaten his pig raw,n ow for the first tim e tasted it in a state

of torrefaction . Of course he made his peace with hisfather by a part (tradition says a leg) of the n ew dish.

T he father was so astounded with the discovery, that heburn ed his house down once a- year for the sake ofcom ing

atan annual banquet ofroastpig. A curious prying sortoffe llow, on e Chang Pang, gotto know of this . H e alsoburn ed down a house with a pig in it, and had his eyesopened. The secre t was ill kept— the discovery spreadmany great conversions were m ade— houses were blazingin every part of the Ce lestial Em pire . The in suranceoffices took the matter up. On e Chong Pong, detected inthe very act ofshutting upa pig in his drawing- room ,

and

then firing a train, was indicted on a charge ofarson . The

chiefjustice ofPeking, on that occasion , requested an Officer

of the court to hand him up a piece of the roast p ig, thecorpus de licti: pure curios ity it was, liberal curiosity, thatl ed him to taste ; b utwithin two days after, it was observed,Says Lamb, that his lordship

’

s town - house was on fire . In

short, all China apostatised to the n ew faith ; and it wasn ot until som e centuries had passed

,that a man of pro

digious gen ius arose— viz ., Chung Pung— who e stablishedthe second era in the history ofroast pig, by Showing thatitcould b e had without burn ing down a house .

N o such gen ius had yetarisen in Rom e. Breakfast wasnot suspected . N O prophecy

,no type of breakfast, had

been published. I n fact,it took as m uch tim e and re

search to arrive at that great discovery as at the Copern ican system. True it is

, reader, that you have heard'

of

THE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS . 253

such aword as j entaculum ; and your dictionary tran slate sthat old heathen word by the Christian word breakfast.But dictionarie s are dull dece ivers. Be tween j entaculumand breakfastthe differen ces are as wide as be twe en ahorsechestnut and a chestnut horse ; differen ces in the time when,in the place where, in the manner how, b utpre

- em in ently inthe thing which.

Galen is a good authority upon such a subj ect,sin ce

,if

(l ike othe r Pagans) he ate no breakfast him se lf,in som e

sense he m ay b e calle d the cause of breakfast to otherm en

,by treating of those things which could safe ly b e

taken upon an em pty stomach. A S to the tim e,he (like

m any other authors) says, m g: rglrnv, 71 (re uaugoregov) n eg:

r eragrnv, about the third, or at farthe st about the fourthhour : and S O exact is he , that he assum es the day to lieexactly be twe en six and six o

’clock,and to b e divided in to

thirteen equal portion s . So the tim e will b e a few m inute sbefore n in e

,or a few m inutes before ten

,in the foren oon .

That seem s fair enough. But it is n ot tim e in respe cttoits location that we are con cern ed with, so m uch as tim ein re spect to its duration . Now ,

heaps ofauthorities takeit for gran ted that you are not to sit down— you are to

stand; and, as to the place , that any place will do any

corn er Of the Forum,

” says Galen,

any corn er that youfan cy : ” which is like referring am an for his salle- c

’

t-manger

to Westm in ster Hall or Flee t Stre e t. Augustus,in a let

ter still surviving, tells us that he j entabat, or took his

j entaculum,in his carriage ; som e tim es in a whee l carriage

( in essedo), som e tim es in a litter or palanquin ( in lecticd).This carele ss and disorderly way as to tim e and place

,

and other circum stances of haste, sufficiently indicate thequal ity of the m eal you are to expect. Already you are

“sagacious of your quarry from so far.

”N ot that we

254 THE CASUISTRY OF ROMAN MEALS .

w ould presum e,excellen t reader, to liken you to death, or

to insinuate that you are a“ grim feature .

” But would

it n otmake a sain t “ grim ,

”to hear of such preparations

for the m orn ing m eal ? A nd then to hear of such con

summ ation s as panis siccus, dry bread; or (if the learn ed

reader thinks it w ill taste better in Gre ek), agrog2g'

ngog !

A nd what m ay this word dry happen to m ean ? D oes it

m ean stale ?”says Salm asius. Shall we suppose

,says he ,

in querulous words, molli et recenti opponi,” that it is

placed in an tithesis to soft and n ew bread,what English

sailors call softtommy ?”and from that an tithesis con clude

itto b e ,“durum etnon recens coctum, eogue sicciorem ?

”Hard

and stale,and in that proportion m ore arid ? N ot quite

so b ad as that, we hope . Or again— “siccum pro biscocto, ut

hodie vocamus, sumemus ?” By hodie Salm asius m ean s

,

am ongst his coun trym en ofFran ce,where biscoctus is ver

batim reproduced in the word bis (twice), cuit (baked);when ce our own biscuit. Biscuit m ight do very well, couldwe b e sure that it was cabin biscuit : but Salmasius argues—that in this case he takes it to m ean

“buccellatum, gui est

pants nauticus that is,the ship com pany’s biscuit

,broken

w ith a sledge -hamm er. I n Gre ek,for the ben efit again of

the learn ed reader, it is term ed bm vgog, indicating that ithas passed twice under the action offire .

“We l l , you say,“no m atter if it had passed through

the fires of Moloch ; only letus have this biscuit, such asit is.

”In good faith

,then

,fasting reader

, you are not

l ike ly to see much m ore than you have seen . It is a veryBarm ecide feast, we do assure you— this sam e

“

j entacu

“Or again,

‘siccumpro biscocto, uthodie vocanw s,

— Itis odd enough that a scholar so complete as Salmasius, whom nothingever escapes , should have overlooked so obvious an alternative as thatofsiccus inthe sense ofb eingwithoutopsonium- Scottice, without kitchen.”


Possibly, however, m ost excellen t reader, like som e

e picurean traveller, who, in crossing the Alps, finds himse lf weather- bound at St Bernard

’s on A sh -Wednesday,

you surm ise a rem edy : you descry som e open ing from

the Ioopholes ofa retreat,” through which afew delicacie s

m ight b e insinuated to Spread verdure on this arid wilder

n ess of biscuit. Casuistry can do m uch . A dead hand

at casuistry has often proved m ore than a m atch for Len tw ith all his quaran tin es . But sorry I am to say that, inthis case , no re lief is hin ted at in any an cien t author.

A grape or two (nota bun ch of grapes), a raisin or two,

a date,an ol ive— these are the whole am oun t of relief

which the chancery ofthe Roman kitchen gran ted in suchcases . All things here hang toge ther, and prove eachother— the tim e

,the place, the m ode

,the thing. We ll

m ight man eat standing,or eat in public

,such a trifle as

this . Go hom e , inde ed, to such a breakfast ! You wouldas soon think ofordering a cloth to b e laid in order to eata peach, or of asking a friend to join you in an orange .

N o m an in his sen ses make s “two bites ofa cherry.

”SO

let us pass on to the other stages of the day. Only, intaking leave ofthis m orn ing’s stage , throw your eyes backwith m e , Christian reader

,upon this truly heathen m eal,

fit fer idolatrous dogs like your Greeks and your Romans ;survey, through the vista of age s

,that thrice accursed

biscuit, with half a fig,perhaps

,by way of garn ish

,and a

huge hamm er by its side,to se cure the certain ty ofm asti

The whole amountofrelief: — From which it appears how grosslyLocke (see his Education ”

)was deceived in fancying that Augustuspractised any remarkable abstinence in taking onl y a bit of bread and araisin or two, by way of luncheon. Augustus did no m ore than mostpeople did; secondly, he abstained on ly upon principles Of luxury with aview to dinner ; and, thirdlv for this dinner he never waited longer thanuptofour 0b lock.

THE CASUISTRY or ROMAN MEALS. 257

cation , by previous comm inution . Then turn your eyes toa Christian breakfast— hot rolls

,eggs, coffee, beef; but

down , down, rebellious vision s : we n eed say n om ore ! You,

reader,like myself

,will breathe a m alediction on the Clas

sical e ra, and thank your stars for m aking you aRoman

ticist. Every m orn ing I thank m ine’

for keeping m e backfrom the Augustan age , and re serving m e to a period inwhich breakfast had been already invented. In the wordsofOvid

,I sayPriscajavent alios : ego m e nunc denique natumGratul or. Haec aetas m orib us aptam eis.

”

Our friend, the Roman cit,has there fore thus far

,in his

progress through life, obtain ed n o breakfast,if he e ver

contem plated an idea so frantic. But it occurs to you, m yfaithful reader, that perhaps he will not always b e thusunhappy. I could bring waggon - loads of sen tim en ts,Gre ek as we ll as Roman

,which prove

,m ore clearly than

the m ost em in ent pike - staff,that

,as the whee l of fortune

revolves,s im ply outof the fact that it has carried a m an

downwards,it m ust subsequen tly carry him upwards, no

matter what dislike that whe el, or any of its spokes, m ayhear to that man non , Si male nun c sit

,etolim sic erit:

and that if a m an,through the m adn ess of his nation ,

m isses coffee and hot rolls atn in e, he m ay easily run intoa leg ofmutton at twe lve . True it is he m ay do so : truthis comm endable : and I . will n ot deny that a man m ay

som etim es, by losing a breakfast,gain a dinn er. Such

things have been in various ages,and will be again

,b ut

notatRom e. There were reason s again st it. W e haveheard ofm en who consider l ife under the ideaofawildern ess— dry as a

“remainder biscuit after a voyage :” and

who consider a'

day under the idea ofa little life . Life .is

the macrocosm . or world at larg e : day is the microcosm.

L 2

258 THE OASUISTRY OF ROMAN MEALS.

or world in m in iature . Con sequently, if l ife is awilder .

n ess,then day, as a little life, is a little wildern e ss. A nd

this wildern ess can b e safely traversed on ly by having re

lays of fountains, or stages for refreshm ent. Such stage s ,they conce ive , are found in the several m eals which Pro

vidence has station ed at due intervals through the day,when ever the perversen e ss ofm an does notbreak the chain ,or derange the order ofsuccession .

The se are the an chors by which man rides in that bil

lowy ocean betwe en m orn ing and n ight. The first an chorviz .

,breakfast— having given way in Rom e

,the m ore n e ed

there is that he should pull up by the se cond ; and that isoften reputed to b e d inn er. A nd as your dictionary, goodreader, tran slated breakfastby that vain word j entaculum ,

so doubtles s it will tran slate dinner by that still vaine rword prandium . Sin cere ly I hope that your own dinn eron this day, and through all tim e com ing, m ay have a

be tter root in fact and substan ce than this m ost visionaryof all base less things— the Rom an prandium— of which Ishall pre sen tly Show you that the m ost approved tran slation is moonshine.Reader, I am anything but j esting here . I n the ve ry

Spirit ofserious truth,I assure you that the de lusion about

“

j entaculum”is even exce eded by this other de lus ion

about “prandium .

”Salm asius him se lf, for whom a natural

prejudice ofplace and tim e partially obscured the truth ,adm its, howe ver, that prandium was a m eal which the

an cients rarely took ; his very words are raro prande

bantveteres.

” Now, judge for yourse lf of the good sense

which is Shown in translating by the won l dinner, whichmust of n ecessity m ean the chief m eal

, a Roman wordwhich represents a fancy m eal

, a m eal of caprice, a m eal

which few people took. At this m om ent,what is the

260 THE CASU ISTRY or ROMAN MEALS.

tifiin shines, does anybody im agin e that it is a vicarious

dinne r, or ever m ean t to b e the substitute and locum ten ensof dinner? Wait till e ight, and you will have your eye s

open ed on that subj ect. So ofthe Rom an prandium : had

it been as luxurious as it was sim ple , still it was alwaysviewed as som ething m ean t on ly to stay the stomach, as aprologue to som e thing beyond . The prand

’ium was far

e nough from giving the fe eblest idea even ofthe Englishlun cheon ; yet it stood in the sam e re lation to the Rom anday. N ow to Englishmen that m eal scarce ly exists ; andwere it notfor wom en

,whose de licacy oforgan isation does

notallow them to fast so long as m en,would probably b e

abolished . It is singular in this,as in other points

,how

n early Englan d and an cien t Rom e approximate . W e

all know how hard it is to tem pt a man gen erally in tospoiling his appe tite

,by eating before dinn er. The sam e

dislike of violating what they called the in tegrity of theappetite ( integram fumem) existed atRom e . I nteger m ean s

what is intact,unviolated by touch . Cicero

,when protest

ing against spoiling his appetite for dinn er , by tasting anything beforehand

,says

,integram famem ad coenam afieram

I intend bringing to dinn er an appetite un tam pered with.

N ay, so m uch stress did the Roman s lay on m ain tain ingthis prim itive state ofthe appetite undisturbed, that anyprelusion s with e ither j entaculum orprandium were said, byavery strong phrase indeed, polluerefamem— to pollute thesanctity of the appetite . The appetite was regarded as aholy vestal flam e , soaring upwards towards dinn er throughoutthe day : if undebauched, it tended to its natural consummation in ccena: expiring like a phoen ix, to rise agamout ofits own ashes. On this theory, to which languagehad accommodated itself, the two pre lusive meals ofn ine orten o

’

clock A .M ., and ofone PAL , so far from being ratified

THE CASUISTRY OF ROMAN MEALS. 61

by the public sense , and adopted in to the e conom y of theday, were regarded gloom ily as gross irregularities, en orm i~

tie s,debauchers ofthe natural instin ct ; and, in so far as they

thwarted that in stin ct,lesse n ed it, or depraved it, were al

m ost un iform ly held to b e full ofpollution ; and, final ly, to

prqfane asacred m otion ofnature . Such was the language .

Butwe guess what is passing in the reader’s m ind. H e

thinks that all this proves the prandium to have be en am ealof little accoun t ; and in very many case s absolutely nu

known . But still he thinks all this m ight happen to theEnglish dinn er— that also m ight b e n egle cted : supperm ight b e generally preferred ; and, n everthele ss

,dinn e r

would b e as truly en titled to the nam e ofdinn er as before .

Many a studen t n egle cts his dinn er; en thusiasm in any

pursuit m ust often have extinguished appetite for all ofus.

Many a tim e and oft did this happen to Sir Isaac Newton .

Eviden ce is on re cord,that such a depon en t at e ight

o’clock A .M . found Sir Isaac with on e stocking on , on e

off; at two, said depon en t called him to dinn er. Be ingin terrogated whether Sir Isaac had pulled on the minus

stocking, or gartered the plus stocking, witn e ss repliedthat he had not. Be ing asked if Sir Isaac cam e to dinn e r,repl ied that he did not. Be ing again asked

,

“At sun se tdid you look in on Sir Isaac ? ” witn e ss replied

,

“ I did .

A nd now,upon your con scien ce , sir, by the virtue ofyour

oath,in what state were the stockings ? A na—

“ In statu

guo ante bellum .

” It seem s Sir Isaac had fought throughthat whole battle ofa long day, so trying a cam paign tomany people— he had traversed that whole sandy Z aarah

,

without calling, or needing to call, at on e of those fountains

,stages, or mansiones,‘ by which (according to our

M ansiones halts of the Roman legions, the stationaryplaces ofrepose which divided the matches, were so called.

262 T HE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS .

form er explanation) Providen ce has re l ie ved the con

tinuity ofarid soil, which e lse disfigures that long drearyle ve l . This happens to all; b ut was d inn er n ot dinn e r,and did supper becom e dinn er, because Sir Isaac Newtonate nothing at the first

,and threw the whole day’s

support upon the last ? N0, you will say, a rule i s n ot

defeated by on e casual deviation ,nor by on e person ’

s

constan t de v iation . Everybody e lse was still din ing at

two, though Sir Isaac m ight n ot; and Sir Isaac him se lf onm ost days n o m ore defe rred his dinn er beyon d two, thanhe sat in public with on e stocking off. Butwhat if everybody

, Sir Isaac included, had defe rred his substan tial m ealuntil n ight, and taken a slight refe ction on ly attwo ? The

question put does really represent the ve ry cas e which hashappen ed with us in England . I n 1700, a large part of

London took a m eal attwo P .M and another at seven or

e ight R M . At pre sen t,a large part ofLondon is still doing

the very sam e thing,taking on e m eal attwo, and an other at

s even or e ight. Butthe nam e s are en tire ly changed : the ’

two o’clock m eal used to b e called dinner, whe reas at

pre sen t it is cal led luncheon ; the seven o’

clock m eal usedto b e called supper, whereas at presen t it is call ed dinner ;and in both case s the differen ce is anything b ut verbal : i texpresses a tran slation of that m ain m eal

,on which the

day’

s support re sted,from m id- day to even ing.

Upon reviewing the idea of dinn er, we soon perce ivethat tim e has little or n o conn ection with it : since, both inEngland and Fran ce

,dinn er has trave lled

,like the hand

of a clock, through every hour betwe en ten A M . and ten

PM . W e have a list,well atte sted

,of every successive

hour be twe en these lim its having been the known e stab lished hour for the royal dinn er- table within the last thre ehundred and fifty years. Tim e

,therefore , van ish es from

264 TH E CASUISTR‘Y or ROMAN MEALS.

ve n ts your sitting down at all; b ut, if you do, the sam e

cause preven ts you noticing what you eat. So ofthe two

pseudo m eals ofRom e , they cam e in the very m idst oftheRom an busin ess— viz ., from n ine A .M . to two P .M . N0

body could give his m ind to them ,had they been ofbette r

quality. There lay on e cause of the ir vaguen ess— viz .,in

the ir position . Another cause was, the comm on basis of

both Bread was so notoriously the predom inating fea

ture in each of these pre lusive banquets,that all fo

reign ers atRom e ,who commun icated with Roman s throughthe Gre ek language , knew both the on e and the other bythe nam e ofagree/rag, or the bread repast. Original ly

,this

nam e had be en re stricted to the earlier m eal . Buta dis

t in ction without a differen ce could not sustain itse lf; andboth al ike disguised the ir em ptin ess under this pom pousquadrisyllable . All words are suspicious

,there is an

odour of fraud about them ,which— be ing concern ed with

comm on things— are so base as to stretch out to foursyl lables. What does an hon est word wan t with m ore

than two ? I n the iden tity of substan ce,therefore , lay a

second ground of confusion . A nd then,thirdly

,even as

to the tim e,which had ever be en the sole real distinction ,

there arose from acciden t a tenden cy to converge . For it

happen ed that, while som e had j entaculum b utnoprandium ,

others hadprandium b ut no j entaculum ; a third party hadboth ; a fourth party, by m uch the largest, had n e ither.

Out of which four varieties (who would think that an on entity could cut up in to so m any som ethings ?)arose afifth party of com prom isers

, who, because they could n ot

afford a regular ccena,and yetwere hospitably disposed,

fused the two ideas into on e ; and so,because the usual

tim e for the idea of a breakfast was n in e to ten , and forthe ideaofa luncheon twelve to one

,comprom ised the rival

THE CASUISTRY or ROMAN M EALS. 265

pre ten sion s by what diplomatists call a m ez z o termine ;

bisecting the tim e at e leven , and m e lting the two ideasin to on e . But, by thus m e rging the separate tim es of

each,they abol ished the sole real d iffe re nce that had ever

div ided them . Losing that, they lost all.Pe rhaps

,as two n egatives m ake on e affirmative

,it may

b e thought that two layers of m oon sh in e m ight coalescein to on e pan cake ; and two Barme cide banquets m ight b ethe square root ofon e poached egg. Of that the com panywere the be st judge s. But, probably, as a rum p and dozen ,in our land of wagers

,is con strued with a ve ry liberal

latitude as to the m ate rials,so Martial’s invitation

,

“to

take bread with him at e leven,

”m ight b e unde rstood by

the duvsroz (the knowing on es) as sign ifican t of som e thingbe tte r than dgrooxfog. Otherwise

,in good truth

,

“m oon

shin e and turn - out at e leven A .M . would b e even worsethan “

tea and turn - out”at e ight P .M .

,which the fervida

juven tus ” ofYoung England so loudly deprecates . But,

howe ver that m ight b e,in this convergem en t of the se

veral fron tiers,and the confusion that en sued, on e cannot

wonder that,whilst the two bladders collapsed in to on e

idea, they actual ly expanded in to four nam es— two Latinand two Gre ek

, gustus and gustatio, yevcn s and yeoo'

ua

which al l al ike expre ss the m e re ly tentative or exp loratoryact of a prcegustator or profe ssional “ taster ” in a king’shousehold : what, if applied to a fluid

, we should denom inate sipping.

At last,by so m any steps all in on e dire ction

,things had

com e to such a pass— the two pre lusive m eals ofthe Romanm orn ing, each for itself separately vague from the beginn ing, had so comm un icated and in terfused the ir severaland join t vaguenesses

,that at last no m an kn ew or cared

to know what any other man in cluded in his idea ofM— Iu

266 THE CASUISTRY or ROMAN MEALS.

e ither; how much or how l ittle . A nd you m ight as we llhave hun ted in the woods ofEthiopia for Prester John , or

fixed the par ish ofthe Everlasting Jew,

*as have attem pted

to say what j entaculum”certain ly was, or what pran

dium” certain ly was not. On ly on e thing was clear, that

n e ither was anything that people cared for. They w ereboth em pty shadows ; b ut shadows as they were , we find

from Cicero that they had apower ofpolluting and profaning be tter things than them se lves .

W e presum e that n o rational m an will hen ceforth book

for dinn er”— that great idea according to D r JOhn son

that sacred idea according to Cicero - in a b ag ofm oon

shin e on on e side,or a b ag of pollution on the other.

P randium,so far from be ing what our fool ish dictionarie s

pretend— dinn er itself— n ever in its palm ie st days wasm ore or other than a m iserable attem pt at be ing luncheon .

It was a conatus,what physiologists call a nisus

,a struggle

in a very am bitious spark,or scintilla

,to kindle in to a fire .

This nisus wen t on for som e cen turie s ; b ut final ly eva

porated in sm oke . Ifprandium had worked out its am bit ion , had the great stream oftendency” accom plished allits purposes, prandium n ever could have be en m ore than a

very indifferen t luncheon . Butnow,

2 . I have to offer another fact,ruinous to our diction

aries on another ground . Various circum stan ce s have disguised the truth , b uta truth it is, that prandium ,

”in its

very origin and in cunabula,n ever was a m eal known to the

Roman culina. Inw

thatcourt it was n ever recogn ised e x

“The Everlasting Jew —The German name for what we English

cal l theWanderingJew. The German imagination has been most struckby the duration ofthe man

’

s l ife, and his unhappy sanctity from death :

the English, by the unrestingness ofthe man’

s life, his incapacity otrepose.

268 THE CASUISTRY or ROMAN ME ALS.

Rom an s had probably b ut on e m eal in a day. That istrue of many a m an am ongst ourse lves by choice ; it is

true also, to our kn ow ledge , of som e horse regim ents in

our service , and m ay b e ofall . This m eal was called coena,or d inn er in the city— prandium in cam ps. I n the city

,it

would always b e tend ing to on e fixed hour. I n the cam p ,innum e rable acciden ts ofwar w ould m ake it very un certain . On this accoun t it would b e an e stablished rule toce lebrate the daily m eal atn oon , if n othing hindered; not

that a later hour would nothave be en preferred,had the

choice been free ; but it was better to have a certain ty ata b ad hour

,than by waiting for a better hour to m ake it

an uncertain ty. For it was a cam p proverb— P ransus,

paratus ; arm ed with this daily m eal, the soldier is ready for

service . It was not,however

,that all m eals

,as Isidore

imagin ed,were ind iscrim inately calledprandium ; b ut that

the on e sole m eal of the day, by acciden ts of war, m ight,and did

,revolve through all hours ofthe day.

The first introduction of this m ilitary m eal into Rom eitse lfwould b e through the honourab le pedantry of old

cen turion s,&c.

,delighting (like the Comm odore Trunn ions

of our navy) to ke ep up in peaceful l ife som e im age or

m em orial ofthe ir past experien ce,so wild, so full ofperil,

excitem en t, and rom an ce,as Rom an warfare m ust have

be en in those ages. Many non -m ilitary people for health’ssake , many as an excuse for eating early

,m any by way of

in terposing som e refre shm en t betwe en the stage s offoren sicbusiness, would adopt this hurried and informal m eal .Many would wish to see the ir sons adopting such a m eal

,

as a train ing for fore ign service in particular, and for

temperan ce in gen eral. It would also b e m aintain ed by asolemn and very in teresting comm em oration of this camprepast in Rom e .

THE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS. 69

This comm em oration,because it has been greatly m is

understood by Salmasius (whose e rror arose from not

m arking the true poin t ofa particular an ti thesis), and stillm ore

,because it is a distin ct confirm ation of all I have

said as to the m ilitary nature ofprandium ,I shall detach

from the series ofmy i llustration s, by placing it in a separate paragraph.

On a set day the officers of the army were invited byCaesar to a ban que t ; it was a circum stan ce expre ssly n o

ticed in the i nv itat ion,that the banque t was n ota coena

,

”

b uta prandium .

” What did that im ply? W hy, that allthe guests m ust pre sen t them se lves in ful l m il itary accoutrem ent; whereas, observe s the historian , had it been accena,the officers would have unbe lted the ir swords ; for he adds,even in Caesar’s presen ce the Officers are allowed to lay asidethe ir swords . The word prandium ,

in short,converted the

palace into the im perial ten t; and Caesar was n o longer acivil em peror and princeps sendtils

, b ut becam e a com

m ander- in - chief am ongst a coun cil of his staff, all be ltedand plum ed

,and in full m ilitary fig.

On this prin ciple we com e to understand why it is, that,when ever the Latin poets speak Ofan army as taking food

,

the word used is always prandens, andpransus; and, whenthe word used is prandens, then always it is an arm y thatis con cern ed. Thus Juvenal in a we ll- known passage

Credimn s altosD esiccasse amn es, epotaque fiumina, MedoP randente

”

that rivers were drunk up, when the Mede the Median arm y under ! erxes] took his daily m eal ; prandente,observe, not canante : you m ight as well talk of an arm ytaking tea and buttere d toast, as taking coena. N or is thatword ever applied to arm ies. It is true that the converse

270 THE OA SUI STRY OF ROMAN MEALS.

is not so rigorously observed; nor ought it, from the e x pla

nation s already given . Though no soldier din ed ( ccenabat),

yetthe citizen som e tim es adopted the cam p usage , and took

aprandium . Butgen erally the poets use the word m ere ly

to m ark the tim e of day. In that m ost hum orous appeal

of Pe rseus, Cur quis non prandeat, hoc est?”— is this a

sufficien t reason for losing on e’

s prandium- he was ob l iged

to sayprandium,be cause no exhibition s ever could cause a

m an to lose his coma, Since non e were displayed ata tim eofday when nobody in Rom e would have attended. Justas

,in alluding to a parliam en tary sp eech notoriously deli

vered atm idn ight, an English satirist m ight have said, I Sthis a spe ech to furn ish an argum en t for leaving on e’s b ed?— n otas what stood forem ost in his regard

,but as the on ly

thing that could b e lost at that tim e ofn ight.On this principle also— viz .

,by going back to the m ili

tary origin ofprandium— we g ain the interpretation’

ofall

the peculiarities attached to it; viz . -1 . its early hour ; 2 .

its be ing taken in a standing posture ; 3. in the open air;

4 .the humble quality ofits materials— bread and biscuit (themain articles ofm ilitary fare). I n all these circum stan cesof the m eal, we read, m ost legibly written , the exotic (ornon - civic) character ofthe m eal

,and its martial character.

Thus I have brought down our Roman friend to noon

day, or even on e hour later than noon,and to this m om en t

the poor m an has had nothing to eat. For supposing himto b e not impransus , and supposing him j entdsse beside ; yetit is eviden t (I hope) that n e ither on e nor the otherm ean s m ore than what it was often called— viz ., Beams/1.05,or

,in plain Engl ish, a m outhful . How long do we in tend

to ke ep him waiting ? Reader,he w ill din e at thre e

,or

(supposing dinner put off to the late st) at four . D inn erwas never known to be later than the tenth hour atRom e ,


thing atall b ut sun him self. Utse apricaretwas the finalcause ofpeace in his opin ion ; in literal truth, that he m ightmake an apricotofhim self. The public ration s at all tim es

supported the poorest inhabitan t of Rom e , if he were a

citizen . Hence it was that Hadrian was so aston ishedwith the spectacle ofAlexandria, civitas opulenta,faecunda,in gud nemo vivatotiosus.

”H ere first he saw the spectacle

ofa vast city, second on ly to Rom e , where e very m an hadsom ething to do; podagrosi quod ayant habent; habent

cceci quod faciant; n e chiragrici (those with gout in the

fingers) apud eos otiosi vivant.” N0 poor rates levied

upon the rest of the world for the ben efit of the ir own

paupers were there distributed gratis. The prodigiousspectacle (such it seem ed to Hadrian) was exhibited inAlexandria

,of all m en earn ing the ir bread in the sweat

ofthe ir brow. I n Rom e on ly (and aton e tim e in som e of

the Grecian states), it was the very m ean ing ofcitiz en thathe should vote and b e idle . Pre cisely those were the twothings which the Roman

,the faces Romuli, had to do— viz.,

som e tim es to vote , and always to b e idle .

I n these circum stan ces,where the whole sun of life ’s

duties am oun ted to voting,all the business a m an could

have was to attend the public assemblies, e lection e ering orfaction s. These

,and any judicial trial (public or private)

that m ight happen to interest him for the person s concern ed, or for the question s at stake , am used him throughthe m orn ing; that is, from e ight till on e . H e m ight alsoextract som e diversion from the columnar

,or pillars ofcer

tain porticoes to which they pasted advertisem en ts. Theseafi ches must have been num erous ; for al l the girls in Rom e

who lost a trinket, or a pet bird, or a lap- dog ,took this

m ode of angl ing in the great ocean of the public for themissing articles.

THE CASUI STRY or ROMA N MEALS . 3

But all this tim e I take for gran ted that the re we re no

shows in a course of exhibition,e ither the dreadful on e s

ofthe am phitheatre,or the bloodle ss on e s of the circus .

If the re were,the n that be cam e the busin e ss ofal l Roman s ;

and it was abusin e ss which would have occupied him fromdaylight un til the light began to fail . He re we see an

other efi’

e ct from the scarcity of artificial l ight am ongstthe an cien ts . The se m agn ificen t shows wen t on by dayl ight . Buthow in com parably m ore gorge ous would havebe en the splen dour by lam p - l ightl What a gigan tic conception l Two hundred and fifty thousand hum an face s allrevealed under on e blaz e of lam p - l ight ! Lord Bacon saw

the m ighty advan tage of candle - light for the pom ps andglorie s of this world . Butthe pove rty of the earth wasthe original cause that the Pagan shows proce eded by day .

N ot that the m asters of the world,who rain ed Arabian

odours and perfum ed waters ofthe m ost costly de scriptionfrom a thousand foun tain s

,sim ply to cool the summ er

heats,would

,in the latter cen turie s ofRom an civil isation ,

have regarded the expen se of l ight,cedar and othe r

odorous woods burn ing upon vast altars,toge ther w ith

every varie ty of fragran t torch,would have created ligh t

e n ough to shed a n ew day stre tching over to the distan tAdriatic . But pre ceden ts derived from early age s of

pove rty,an cien t tradition s

,overruled the practical usage .

Howeve r,as there m ay happen to b e no public Spe c

tae le s,and the courts of political m e e tings ( if n ot closed

altoge ther by superstition) would at any rate b e c losed inthe ordinary course by twe lve or on e o

’

clock,n oth ing re

main s for him to do,before return ing hom e

,except per

haps to attend .the palaestra, or som e public recitation ofa

poem written by a friend,but in any case to atte nd the

public baths . For the se the tim e varied ; and m any pe ople

274 THE OA SU I STRv or ROMAs M EALS .

have thought it tyrann ical in som e ofthe Cae sars thattheyim posed restrain ts on the tim e open for the baths ; som e ,

for in stan ce, would n ot suffer them to open at all before

two; and in any case , if you were later than four or five in

summ e r, you would have to pay a fin e which m ost etico

tually clean ed out the baths ofall raff, sin ce it was a sum

that John Quires could n ot have produced to save his life .

But it should b e con sidered that the em peror was thes teward of the public resource s for m ain tain ing the bathsin fuel, oil, attendan ce , repairs . A nd certain it is

,that

during the long peace of the first Cae sars,and after the

annonaria provisio (that great pledge of popularity to a

Rom an prin ce) had been in creased by the corn tributefrom the Nile

,the Roman population took a vast e x pan

s ion ahead. The subsequent in crease of baths,whilst n o

old on es were n egle cted,proves that decisively. A nd as

c itizen ship expanded by m eans ofthe easy term s on whichit could b e had

,so did the bathers multiply . The popala~

t ion ofRom e , in the cen tury after Augustus, was far greaterthan during that era; and this, still acting as a vortex tothe re st of the world

,may have been one great m otive

with Con stantin e for tran slating the capital eastwards ;in reality, for breaking up on e m on ster capital into two of

m ore m anageable dim en sion s. Two o’clock was som etim es

the earliest hour atwhich the public baths were open ed.

But in Martial ’s tim e a man could go without blushing( salvdfronte) at e leven ; though even then two o

’clock wasthe m e ridian hour for the great uproar of Splashing, andswimm ing, and larking ” in the endless baths of endlessRom e .

A nd now,at last, bathing fin ished, and the exercises of

the palaestra, at half- past two, or three,our friend finds

his way hom e— notagain to leave it for that day. He is

276 T HE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS .

o’

clock of the daytim e, you will descry our m ost worthy

ancestors all eating for the ir very lives, eating as dogs

eat— viz .

,in bodi ly fear that som e other dog will com e

and take the ir dinn er away. What swelling of the ve ins

in the tem ple s (see Boswel l’

s natural history of Dr John

son at din n er)! what in ten se and rapid deglutition ! what

odious clatter of kn ive s and plates ! what silen ce of thehuman vo ice ! what gravity ! what fury in the l ibidinouseye s w ith which they con tem plate the dishes ! Positivelyitwas an indecent spe ctacle to see D r John son at dinn er.

But, above all, what m aniacal haste and hurry, as if thefiend were waiting with red- hot pin cers to lay hold of the

h inde rm ost !Oh

,reader

,do you recogn ise in this abom inable picture

your re spe cted an cestors and ours ? Excuse m e for say

ing ,“What m onsters ! ” I have a right to call m y own

an cestors m on sters ; and, if so, I must have the sam e rightover yours. For Southey has shown plain ly in the D oc

tor,” that every man having four grand - paren ts in the

second stage of ascent,con sequen tly (since each of those

four will have had four grand - paren ts) sixte en in the thirdstage , con sequen tly sixty- four in the fourth, con sequen tlytwo hundred and fifty- six in the fifth

,and so on

,it follows

that, long before you get to the Conquest, every man and

woman then living in England will b e wan ted to make upthe sum ofm y separate an cestors ; con sequently you musttake your an cestors out ofthe very sam e fund, or (if youare too proud for that) you m ust go w ithout an cestors .

So that, your an cestors be ing clearly m ine , I have a r ightin law to call the whole kit ” of them m on sters . Quad

cratdemonstrandum . Really,and upon my honour, it makes

one,for the m om en t, asham ed ofon e

’s de scen t; on e wouldwish to disinherit on e’S - self backwards

,and (as Sheridan

THE CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS . 277

says in the “Rivals to cut the conn ection .

” Wordsworth has an adm irable picture in Pete r Bel l ” of asnug

party in a parlour ” rem oved in to limbuspatrum for the ir

offen ce s in the flesh

Cramm ing, as they on earth w ere cramm ’

d;A ll sipping w ine , al l sipping tea;But, as you by their faces see,All silent, and al l d— d.

”

How’ well does that on e word silent describe those ven e

rable an cestral dinn ers— “ A 11 silen t ! ” Con trast this infernal silen ce of voice , and fury of eye , with the

“rims

amabilis,

”the fe stiv ity

,the social kindn e ss

,the m usic

, the

w in e,the “ dulcis insania

,

”of a Rom an “

cama.

” I m en

tion ed four tests for dete rm in ing what m eal is,and what

is n ot,dinn er : we m ay n ow add a fifth— viz .

,the Spirit of

fa tal j oy and e legan t enjoym en t,of anxie ty laid aside

,

and ofhon ourable social pleasure put on like a marriagegarm en t .A nd what caused the difference betwe en our an cestors

and the Rom ans ? Sim ply this— the error of in terposingdinn e r in the m idd le of busin e ss

,thus courting all the

bre e ze s of angry fee ling that may happen to blow fromthe busin e ss yet to com e

,instead of fin ishing

,absolute ly

closing,the accoun t with this world’s trouble s before you

sit down . That unhappy in terpolation ruined all . D inn erwas an ugly little paren thesis be twe en two sti ll uglierclause s of a tee totally ugly sen ten ce . Whe reas, w ith uS ,

the ir e n lightened posterity, to whom they have the honourto b e an ce stors

,dinn er is a great re - action . There l ie s my

con ception ofthe m atter. It grew out ofthe ve ry excessof the e v il . When busin ess was m oderate , d in n er was

allowed to divide and bisect it. When it swe lled in to thatvast strife and agony

,as one may call it, that boils along

278 TH E CASUI STRY OF ROMAN MEALS .

the tortured stree ts of m odern London or other capitals ,m en began to se e the n ecessity of an adequate coun ter

force to push against this overwhe lm ing torren t, and thusm ain tain the equil ibrium . Were it n ot for the soft re lief

ofa six o’

clock d inn er, the gen tle dem eanour succeeding

to the boisterous hubbub ofthe day, the soft glow ing lights,the w in e

,the in te l le ctual conversation , l ife in London is

now com e to such apass, that in two years all n erves would

s ink be fore it . But for this periodic re -action,the m odern

busin ess which draws so crue l ly on the brain,and so little

on the hands, would overthrow that organ in all b ut those

ofcoarse organ isation . D inn er it is— m ean ing by dinn er

the whole com plexity of attendan t circum stan ce s— whichsaves the m odern brain -working m an from going m ad .

This revolution as to dinn er was the greatest in virtueand value e ver accom plished. I n fact, those are alwaysthe m ost Operative revolution s which are brought aboutthrough social or dom est ic changes . A nation must b ebarbarous

,n e ithe r could it have m uch inte lle ctual busi

n e ss,which (l in ed in the m orn ing. They could not b e at

ease in the m orning. So m uch must b e gran ted : e veryday has its separate quantum,

its dose ofanxie ty,that could

n ot b e dige sted so soon as n oon . N o m an w ill say it .He

,therefore

,who din ed at n oon

,showed him se lfw ill ing

to sit down squal id as he was, with his dress un changed,his care s n otwashed off. A nd what follows from that ?W hy, that to him ,

to such a can in e or cyn ical specim en of

the genus homo, dinn er existed on ly as a physical even t, am ere an imal relief

,a pure ly carnal enjoym en t. For in

what, I demand, did this fle shly creature differ from the

carrion crow,or the kite

, or the vulture , or the corm oran t?A French judge , in an action upon a wager

,laid it down

as law, that man only had a bouche, all other an imals a


scallion s wonde red what the world would com e to n ext.

Our Fren ch n e ighbours were in the sam e predicam en t . But

they far surpassed us in ven eration for the m eal . They ac

tually dated from it. D inn er con stituted the great e ra of

the day. L’

apres diner is alm ost the sole date wh ich you

find in Cardinal D e Be tz ’s m em oirs ofthe Fronds . D inn er

was the ir H egira— dinn er was the ir lin e in traversing the

ocean of day : they crossed the equator when they din ed .

Our Engl ish Revolution cam e n ext ; it m ade som e l ittlediffe rence

,I have heard people say, in church and state ;

I dare say it did,like en ough

,but its great effe cts were

perce ived in d inn e r. Pe ople n ow din ed attwo. So din edAddison for his last th irty years ; so, through his en tirel ife

,din ed Pope

,whose birthwas coeval with theRe volution .

Pre cise ly as the Rebe llion of 1 745 arose,did people (but

Obse rve,very great people)advan ce to four P .M . Philoso

phe rs , who watch the sem inarerum,

”and the first symp

tom s of change,had perce ived this alteration singing in

the upper air l ike a com ing storm som e little tim e be fore .

About the year 1740,Pope com plain s of Lady Suflolk ’s

din ing so late as four. Young people m ay bear thoseth ings , he observed : but as to h im se lf

,now turn ed offifty

,

if such doings wen t on,if Lady Suffolk would adopt such

strange hours , he m ust real ly absen t him self from MarbleH i l l . Lady Suffolk had a right to please herse lf ; he himse lf loved he r. But

,if she would persist

,all which re

m ain ed for ade cayed poe t was respe ctfully to cuthis stick,

and re tire . W he ther Pope ever putup with four o’clock

d in n e rs again , I have vain ly sought to fathom . Som ethings advance con tinuous ly, l ike a flood or a fire

,wh ich

always make an end ofA , eatand dige st it, before they go

T B F.‘

CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS. 28 !

after they have m ade som e n otable conquest, then , whenunobserved, they m ake them selves up for m ischief,

”and

take a flying bound onwards . Thus advan ced dinn er,

and by these fits got in to the territory of even ing. A nd

ever as it m ade am otion onwards, it found the nation m ore

civilised (e lse the change could n othave be en effe cted), andco- operated in raising them to a still higher civilisation .

The n ext relay on that lin e of road,the n ext repeating

frigate,is Cowper in his poem on Conve rsation .

”H e speaks

of four o’

clock as stil l the e legan t hour for dinn er— thehour for the lautiores and the lepidi homines. Now thism ight b e written about 1780

,or a little earl ier; perhaps,

therefore,just on e gen eration after Pope’s Lady Suffolk.

But then Cowper was liv ing am ongst the rural gen try,n ot

in high life ; Yet, again , Cowper was n early conn e cted byblood with the em in en t Whig house ofCowper

,and acknow

ledged as a kin sm an . About twen ty - five years after this,

we m ay take Oxford as a good expon en t of the nationaladvan ce . A s a m agn ificen t body of foundation s

,

”en

dowed by kings,nursed by que en s

,an d resorted to by the

flower ofthe national youth,Oxford ought to b e e legan t

and even splendid in her habits . Yet,on the other hand ,

as a grave seat of learn ing, and fe e l ing the w e ight of herposition in the com m onwealth

,she is s low to m ove : she is

in e rt as she should b e,having the function s of resistance

assign ed to her again st the popular in stin ct (sure ly activeenough) ofmovement. Now

,in Oxford

,about 1804—5, there

was agen eral m ove in the dinn er hour. Those college s whodin ed at thre e

,ofwhich there w e re still several, n ow began

to din e atfour : those who had din ed at four, now tran slatedthe ir hour to five . These con tinued good gen eral hourstill about Waterloo. After that era, six , which had beensom ewhat ofa gala hour, was promoted to the fixed station

M 2

282 THE CASUISTRY OF ROMAN MEALS .

of dinner- tim e in ordinary; and there perhaps it will restthrough cen turie s . For a m ore fe stal dinn er, seven , e ight,n in e , ten , have al l be en in requisit ion sin ce then ; b ut I am

notaware ofany man’s habitually d in ing later than te n P .M .

,

except in that classical case recorded by Mr Joseph M iller,

ofan Irishman who m ust have din ed m uch later than ten ,because his servan t protested, when others we re en forcingthe dign ity ofthe ir masters by the laten ess ofthe ir dinnerhours, that his master in variably din ed to -m orrow .

”

Were the Roman s not as barbarous as our own an ces

tors aton e tim e ? Most certain ly they we re ; in the ir prim itive ages they took the ir ccena at n oon ,* thatwas beforethey had laid aside the ir barbarism ; before they shaved :it was during the ir barbarism ,

and in con sequen ce of the irbarbarism

,that they t im ed the ir ccena thus un seasonably.

A nd this is made eviden t by the fact, that, so long as theye rred in the hour

,they erred in the attending c ircum

stances. At this period they had n o music at dinn er, nofestal graces

,and n o reposing upon sofas. They sat bolt

upright in chairs,and were as grave as our an cestors

,as

“Took their ccena at noon -A nd

,by the way, in order to Show

how little caena had to do with any even ing hour (though , in any age

b ut that of our fathers , four in the afternoon would n ever have beenthought an even ing hour), the Roman gourmands and bon e vivants

continued through the very last ages of Rom e to take their coena, whenmore than usually sumptuous

,at noon . This

,indeed

,all people did

occasionally, just as we som etim es give a dinn er even now so early asfour P .M . , under the nam e of a breakfast. Those who took their caenaso early as this, were said de die camare— to begin din ing from high day.

That line in Horace Utjugulenthom in es, surguntde nocte latrones ”— does not m ean that the robbers rise when others are going to b ed,viz .

,at n ightfall, b ut at m idnight. For, says on e of the three best

scholars ofthis earth, de die, de nocte, m ean from that hour which was

m ost fully, moss inten se ly day or n ight- viz. , the centre . the m eridian .

This one fact is surely a clencher as to the question whether caenameantdmner or supper.

284 THE OA surse OE ROMAN MEALS .

ven t its ever be ing stolen , the priests made e leven fac

similes of it,in order that a thief, se e ing the hopele ss

n ess of distinguishing the true on e , m ight let all alone .

A nd the resultwas, that, in the n ext gen eration , n obodycould poin t to the true on e . But our d inn er, the Rom ancanal, is distinguished from the rest by far m ore than the

hour; it is distinguished by great fun ction s, and by stillgreater capacities. It is already m ost ben eficial ; ifitsaves

(as I say it does) the nat ion from m adn e ss, it m ay becom e

m ore so.

I n saying this,I point to the lighter graces of m usic

,

and con versation more varied,by which the Roman ccena

was chiefly distinguished from our dinn e r. I am far fromagre e ing with M r Croly

,that the Roman m eal was m ore

“ in te l le ctual ” than ours . On the con trary, ours is the

m ore in te l lectual by m uch ; w e have far greate r knowledge , far greater m ean s for m aking it such. I n fact , thefault of our m eal is— that it is too in tel l e ctual ; of too

severe a character ; too political ; too m uch tending,in

m any b ands,to disquisition . Reciprocation of question

and an swer, varie ty oftopics

,sh ifting oftopics

,are poin ts

not sufficien tly cultivated. I n all e lse I asse n t to the following passage from M r Croly

’

s e loquen t Salathie l :”“Ifan an cien t Rom an could start from his slum ber in to

the m idst ofEuropean l ife,he m ust look w ith scorn on its

absence ofgrace , e legan ce , and fancy. But it is in its fe stivity, and m ost of all in its banque ts

,that he would fe el

the incurable barbarism ofthe Gothic blood. Con trastedwith the fin e displays that made the table of the Rom an

n oble a picture , and threw over the indulgen ce ofappe titethe colours of the imagination

,with what eye s m ust he

contemplate the taste less and comm onplace dre ss, thecoarse attendan ts. the m eagre ornam ent , the wan t ofm irth,

rR E CASUI STRY or ROMAN MEALS . 285

music,and in telle ctual inte rest— the whole heavy m achi

n ery that converts the feast into the m e re drudgery of

devouringThus far the reader knows already that I dissen t vio

lently ; and by looking back he w ill see a picture of our

an ce stors at dinn er,in which they rehearse the ve ry part

in relation to ourse lves,that Mr Croly suppose s al l m o

dern s to rehearse in re lation to the Rom an s ; b ut in the

re st of the beautiful de scription , the positive , though n ot

the com parative part,we m ust all con cur !

“ The guests before m e were fifty or s ixty Splendidlydressed m en

”

(they w ere in fact T i tus and his staff,then

occupied w ith the s iege of Jerusalem), attended by a

crowd of dom e stics,attired with scarcely less Splendour;

for no man thought ofcom ing to the banque t in the robesof ordinary life . The em broidered couche s

,them se lve s

striking obje cts,allowed the ease of position at on ce de

lightful in the re laxing clim ates of the south,and capable

ofcom bin ing with eve ry grace ofthe hum an figure . At aSlight distance , the tab le loaded w ith plate glitte ring undera profusion of lam ps

,and surrounded by couches thus

covered by rich draperies,was like a cen tral source of

li ght radiating in broad Shafts ofeve ry bri l lian t hue . The

wealth of the patrician s,and the ir in tercourse w ith the

Gre eks, m ade them masters of the first pe rform an ces of

the arts . Copie s of the m ost fam ous statues, and groupsof sculpture in the pre cious m e tal s ; trophies ofvictories ;m odels oftem ple s

,were m ingled w ith vases offlow ers and

l ighted perfum es. Finally,cove ring and closing all, was a

vast scarle t can opy,which combin ed the groups ben eath

to the eye , and threw the whole in to the form that apain ter would love .

”

Mr Croly then goe s on to insist on the in te llectual em

286 THE CASUISTRY OF ROMAN MEALS.

b el lishm ents of the Roman dinn er; the ir varie ty, the irgrace , the ir adaptation to a fe stive purpose . The truth is

,

our Engl ish imagination , m ore profoun d than the Roman ,is also m ore gloom y, less gay, less riante. That accounts

for our wan t of the gorgeous triclinium, with its scarle tdraperies, and for m any other differen ce s both to the eye

and to the unde rstanding. But both we and the Roman s

agre e in the m ain point : we both discove red the true purpose which dinner m ight serve— l . to throw"

the grace of

in te llectual enjoym en t over an an im al n e cessity; 2 . to re

l ieve and to m e e t by a ben ign an tagon ism the toil ofbrainin c iden t to high form s ofsocial life .

My obj ect has been to poin t the eye to this fact; toShow use s imperfe ctly suspected in a recurring acciden t ofl ife ; to show a steady tenden cy to that consummation , byholding up, as in a m irror

,a serie s ofchanges

,correspon d

ing to our own series with regard to the sam e chie f m eal.silently going on in a great people ofantiquity.

288 MODERN supnnsn'rxon .

Supe rstition will finally pass in to pure form s ofreligion as

man advances. It would b e m atte r oflam en tation to hearthat supe rstition had atall de cayed, un til m an had madecorre sponding steps in the purification and developm en tofhis inte llect as appl icable to re l igious faith . I n order

to appreciate the pre sen t condition of the supernatural,

and its power over m an , letus throw a hasty eye over them odes of popular supe rstition . If these man ifest the irvitali ty

,it will prove that the popular in te llect does

not go along with the bookish or the worldly intellect

(philosophic we cannot call it), in pron oun cing the powerof the supernatural extinct. The popular fe e ling is all

in all.

That function ofm iraculous powe r, which, though wide lyd iffused through Pagan and Christian ages alike

,has the

least root in the solem n ities of the imagination , w e m aycal l the Ovz

’

dz’

an . By way of distin ction,it m ay b e so

cal led on a principle of conven ien ce ; and it m ay he so

cal led on api in ciple ofequity ; s in ce Ovid in his“M etam or

phose s”m ade the first elaborate display ofsuch a tenden cy

in human supersti tion . It is a m ovem en t of superstitionunder the dom ination of human affe ction s ; a m ode of

Spiritual awe,n ot remarkably profound, which se eks to

re concile itself w ith human tendern e ss or adm iration ; andwhich represen ts supe rnatural power as expressing itselfby a sym pathy with hum an distre ss or passion con curren tlywith human sym pathie s

,and as supporting that blended

sym pathy by a sym bol in carnated w ith the fixed agen ciesofnature . For in stance

, a pair of youthful lovers perishby a double suicide originat ing in a fatal m istake , and am istake operating in each case through a n oble se lf- oblivion . The tre e under which the ir m eeting has be en con

certed,and which witnesses the ir tragedy

,is supposed e ver

MODERN surnas'rrrron . 89

afterwards to express the divine sym pathy with this catastrophe in the gloomy colour ofits fruit :

Attu, quae ram is (arbor !)m iserabil e corpusNun c tegis un ius, mox es tecturaduorum

,

Signa ten e caedis z— pul losque et luctibus aptosSemper habe fructus— gem in i monumenta cruoris .

Such is the dying adjuration of the lady to the tre e .

A nd the fruit b e com es then ceforwards a m onum en t ofadouble sym pathy— sym pathy from m an

,sym pathy from a

dark power standing behind the agen cies of nature,and

speaking through them . Mean tim e the Obj ect of thissym pathy is understood to b e

,n ot the individual catas ~

trophe , b utthe un iversal case of unfortunate love e x em

plified in this particular rom an ce . The in im itable gracewith which Ovid has de livered these early tradition s ofhuman tendern ess

,blended with hum an superstition

,is

notorious ; the artfuln ess Of the pervading connection , bywhich every tale in the long succe ssion is m ade to arisespon tan eously out ofthat which precedes

,is absolutely un

rivalled; and this it was,together with his luxuriant

gaiety, which procured for him a preferen ce even on the

part ofMilton— a poet so Opposite by intellectual con stitut ion . It is but reasonable

,therefore

,that this fun ction of

the supernatural should bear the nam e ofOvz'

dz'

an . Paganit was in its birth ; and to Pagan ism its title s ultimate lyascend. Yetwe know that in the tran sitional state throughthe cen turie s succeeding to Christ

,during which Pagan ism

and Christian ity were slowly descending and ascending, asif through differen t strata of the atm osphere , the two

powers interchanged whatsoever they could. (See Con

yers Middleton ; and see Bloun t of our own days .) It

m arked the feeble nature of Pagan ism ,that it could b or

row little or nothing : by organisation it was fitted toN — I I I .

290 MOD ERN soPERST IT ION .

no expansion . Butthe true faith, from its vast and com pre

h en sive adaptation to the nature of m an , len t itse lf to

many corruption s (corruptz'

o optim z’

estpessz'

ma), som e deadly

in the ir tenden cie s, som e harm less . Am ongst theselast was the Ovidian form ofconn ecting the un se en powers

m oving in nature w ith human sym pathie s of love or re

veren ce . The legends of this kin d are un iversal and

endle ss. NO land, the m ost austere in its Protestan tism ,

b ut has adopted these superstition s : and everywhere , bythose even who reject them ,

they are en tertained withsom e degree Of affe ctionate respect . That the ass, which

in its ve ry degradation st ill re tain s an under- power ofsu

b lim ityf or ofsublim e suggestion through its an cien t con

n ection wi th the wildern e ss, with the Orien t,with Jeru

salem ,should have be en honoured am ongst all an imals by

the visible im pre ssion upon its back ofChristian sym bols— se em s reasonable even to the infan tin e understanding,when m ade acquainted w ith its m eekn ess, its patien ce , itssuffering life , and its association with the Foun der ofChristianity in on e great trium phal solem n ity. The very manwho brutally abuses it

,and fe els a hard - hearted con tem pt

for its m isery and its subm ission ,has a sem i - con scious

feeling that the sam e qualities w ere possibly those whichrecomm ended it to a distin ction

,1’ when all things were

A n undmu

power of sub limity : — Everybody knows that Homercompared the T elam onian Ajax

,in am oment of heroic endurance, to an

ass . This, however, was on ly under a m om entary glance from a. pecu

liar angle ofthe case . But the Mahom etan , too solemn , and also perhaps too stupid, to catch the fanciful or shifting and angular colours of

things , absolutely by choice, under the Bagdad Caliphate , decorated am ost favourite herowith the title ofthe A ss - which title is repeated w ithy eneration to this day. Still it should not b e forgotten that the wild assi s one Ofthe few an imals which has the reputation of never flying froman enemy.1‘“Which recommended it to a distinction l t m ight b e obj ecte d

292 MODERN SUPERST I T I ON .

The Glastonbury Thorn is am ere local superstition ; b ut

at on e tim e the legend was as wide ly diffused as that of

Loretto, with the ange lic tran slation Of its san ctities : onChristm as m orn ing, itwas devoutly believed byall Christen

dom that this holy thorn put forth its annual blossom s .

A nd with re spe ct to the aspen - tree ,‘

which Mrs H eman s

very naturally m istook for a We lsh legend, having first

heard it in D enbighshire , the popular faith is un iversal— notWelsh, b ut European*— that it shivers m ysticallyin sym pathy with the horror ofthat m other tree in Pale st in e which was compelled to furn ish m aterials for the

cross. Ne ither would it in this case b e any Obj ection ,if a passage were produced from Solinus or Theophras

tus,im plying that the aspen - tre e had always shivered ;

for the tree m ight presumably be pen etrated by rem otepresentim ents, as well as by rem ote rem embran ces. In

so vast a case,the Obscure sympathy should stretch ,

Janus- like , each way. A nd an objection of the sam e

kind to the rainbow,con sidered as the seal by which

God ratified his covenan t in b ar of all future de luge s,

m ay b e parried in som ething of the sam e way. It wasn otthen first created; optical laws im ply that the rainbowmust

,under pre - condition s of sunshin e and rain

,always

accordingly the Mahom etan legend (which the reader may rem ember isone of those incorporated into Southey’s Thalaba”) ofa great hour revolving once in every year, during which the gates of Paradise werethrown Open to their utmost extent, and gales ofhappiness issued forthupon the total fam ily ofman .

“European :

”— Or, more strictly speaking, coe xten sive with Christendom

,which is now amuch wider expression ; for, whilst less than two

m illions are to b e subtracted on account Of the Ottoman Mussulmans ,twom illions must b e added on account ofAsiatics (viz. the Arm enian s,

twenty-two m illions for the Hnited States ; twom illions for Canadaand other English possessions; seven or eight millions for Span ish andPortuguese Am erica.

M OD ERN SUPERST IT I ON .Q3

have displayed the sam e series ofphen om ena true : but itwas then first se lected by preferen ce , am ongst a multitudeof natural Sign s as yet unappropriated

,and then first

charged w ith the n ew fun ction ofa m e ssage and a prom ise

to m an . Pretty m uch the sam e theory— that is, the sam e

way of accoun ting for the natural existence without disturb ing the supernatural fun ction s— m ay b e applied to thegreat con ste llation of the other hem isphere

,called the

Southern Cross. It is viewed popularly in South Am e

rica as the great bann er, or gonfalon , he ld aloft by heavenbefore the Span ish heralds of the true .faith in 1492 . T o

that superstitious and ignoran t race it costs not an effortto suppose

,that

,by som e syn chron ising m iracle

,the con

stellation had be en then spe cially called in to existen ce atthe very m om en t when the first Christian procession ,bearing a cross in the ir arm s , solem n ly stepped on shorefrom the vessels of Christendom . W e Protestan ts knowbetter : we understand the im possibility ofsupposing sucha narrow and local reference in orbs so transcenden tlyvast as those composing the conste l lation— orbs rem ovedfrom each other by such unvoyageable worlds of space ,and having, in fact, n o real refe ren ce to each other m ore

than to any other heaven ly bodies whatsoever. Thatun ity of synthesis

,by which they are com posed in to on e

figure of a cross,we know to b e a m e re acciden tal re

sult from an arbitrary syn thesis of hum an fan cy,and de

p enden t also to a certain exten t upon the accidents ofourown earthly position and distan ce . A vast dim inution

,for

exam ple , of this distan ce , by cal ling other stars in to our

fie ld ofvision,and by thus filling upthe in tervals between

the several elem en ts of the figure,would disturb (and

m ight even whol ly confuse)the present cruciform arrangem en t. Take such and such stars , com pose them into let

294 MODERN SUPERST IT I ON .

ters, and they wil l spell such a word. But still it was our

own choice , a syn thesis of our own fan cy , originally tocombin e them in this way. They m ight b e divided from

each other, and otherwise combin ed. All this is true : and

yet, as the comb ination , though in a partial sen se arbitrary,does spontan eously offer itself* to every eye, as the glori

Ous cross does really glitter for ever through th e silen thours ofa vast hem isphere , even they who are n ot super

stitious m ay w il lingly yield to the be lie f— that,as the

rainbow was laid in the very e lem ents and n ecessitiesof nature

, yet still bearing a pre- dedication to a service

which would n ot b e called for un til many ages had passed ,so also the mysterious cipher of m an ’

s im perishable hopesm ay have been entwined and enwreathed w ith the starryheaven s from the ir earliest creation

,as a prefiguration

as a s ilen t heraldry ofmysterious hope through on e period,

and as a heraldry ofgratitude through the other.

These case s which I have been rehearsing, taking themin the fullest literal ity

,agree in this gen eral poin t ofun ion

they are all silen t in carnation s of m iraculous powerm iracles

,supposing them to have been such originally,

locked up and embodied in the regular course of nature ,just as we see lineam ents of faces and of form s in petrifaction s

,in variegated marbles

,in spars, or in rocky strata,

which our fan cy in terprets as on ce having be en real hum anexisten ces; but which are now confounded with the verysubstan ce of a m in eral product.1

‘

Even those who are

D oes spontaneously ofer itself: — Heber (Bishop ofCalcutta)complains that this constellation is notcom posed of stars an swering his expectation in point of magnitude. But he adm its that the dark barrenspace around it givesto this inferiormagn itude avery advantageous relief.1' See upon this subj ect som e interesting speculations (or at least dim

outlines and suggestions of speculations) by the German author, Novalis(the Grafvon Hardenberg).

296 MOD ERN aurERs'rrrl ON .

But, from this earliest note in the ascending scale of

superstitious faith, let us pass to a m ore alarm ing k ey.

This first,which I have styled (in equity as we ll as for

distinction) the Ovidian, is too aerial , alm ost too allegoric,to b e susceptible of m uch terror. It is the m ere fancy,in a m ood half- playful, half- ten der, which subm its to thebe lief. It is the fe eling, the sen tim en t, which creates thefaith; not the faith which creates the fe eling. A nd thusfar we see that m odern fe eling and Christian fe eling hasbeen to the full as operative as any that is peculiar toPagan ism ; judging by the Rom ish L egenda, m uch m ore

so. The Ovidian illustration s, under a false superstition ,are entitled to give the designation ,

as being the first,the

earliest,b ut notatall as the richest . Beside s that Ovid’s

illustration s emanated often from him se lf individual ly,not from the popular m ind ofhis coun try; whereas ours

Ofthe sam e class un iform ly repose on large popular tradition s from the whole ofChristian antiquity. These againare agen cies ofthe supernatural which can n ever have aprivate or personal application ; they belong to all mankind and to all gen erations . Butthe n ext in order are

m ore solem n ; they becom e terrific by becom ing personal .These comprehend all that vast body of the m arve llouswhich is expressed by the word Ominous. On this head,as div iding itself into the an cien t and m odern

,I will

speak n ext .Everybody is aware of the deep emphas is which the

Pagan s laid upon words and upon nam es,under this

aspect of the om in ous. The nam e of several placesformal ly changed by the Roman governm en t

,sole ly with

a view to that contagion of evil which was thought tolurk in the syllables, if taken sign ifican tly. Thus

,the

town ofMaleventum (Ill - com e. as one m ight render it)

MODERN SUPERsrrrrON . 297

had its nam e changed by the Roman s to Beneventum (orWelcom e). Epidamnum,

again,the Grecian Calais, as on e

m ight call it,in re lation to the Roman D over Of Brundu

sium,was a nam e that would have startled the stoutest

hearted Boman “ from his propriety.

”Had he suffere d

this nam e to escape him inadverten tly, his spirits wouldhave forsaken him — he m ight even have pin ed awayunder dim m isgivings of evi l

,like a poor n egro ofKoro

mantyn who is the victim of Obi.* Read in to a Gre ekword

,which it really was, the nam e im ported n o ill ; b ut

for a Rom an to say I bo Epz'

damnum,reading the word

damnum into aRoman sense, was in effect saying

,though

in a hybrid diale ct, half- Gre ek, half-Roman , I will go toruin

“The nam e was therefore 'changed to Dyrrachium ;

a substitution which quieted m ore anxietie s in Romanhearts than the erection Of a light- house or the deepen ingofthe harbour m onth. A case equally strong

, to take on eout of many hundreds that have com e down to us

,is re

ported by Livy. There was an Officer in a Rom an legion ,

at som e period of the republic, who bore the nam e e ithe r

Of Atrius Umber or Um brine Ater : and this m an be ingordered on som e expedition , the soldiers refused to followhim . They did right . I rem ember

,and have e lsewhere

m en tion ed, that Coleridge used face tiously to call the wellknown sister ofD r Aikin ,Mrs Barbauld, that pleonasm of

nakedn e ss ,”the idea ofnakedn ess be ing reduplicated and

reverberated in the bare and the bald. This Atrius Umberm ight b e called “ that pleonasm of darkn ess ;

”and on e

m ight say to him ,in the words of Othello, What n eeds

The victim ofObi It seem s worthy of notice, that this magicalfascination is generally called Ob i, and the magicians Obeah m en ,

throughout Guin ea, N egroland, sec. whilst the Hebrew or Syriac wordfor the rites of necromancy, was 06 or 0b b , at least when ventriloquismwas concerned.

298 MOD ERN SUPERST IT I ON .

this iteration ?” To serve under the Gloomy was enough

to darken the spirit Of hope ; b utto serve under the BlackGloom y was real ly rushing upon de struction . Yet it m ayb e alleged that Captain D eath was a favourite and heroicleader in the English navy; and that, in our own tim es,

Adm iral Coffin , though an Am e rican by birth,has n ot

be en unpopular in the sam e service . This is true : andall that can b e said is

,that thes e nam es were two- edged

swords, which m ight b e m ade to tell again st the en emy aswell as against friends. A nd possibly the Roman cen

turion m ight have turn ed his nam e to the sam e accoun t,

had he possessed the great D ictator’s presen ce of m indfor he , the m ighty Julius, when landing in Africa, havinghappen ed to stum ble— an om en of the worst character

,in

Roman e stimation— took out its sting by following up his'

own oversight,as if it had be en in ten tional, putting his

l ips to the ground,kissing it

,and ejaculating that in this

way b e appropriated the soil .Om en s Of every class were certain ly regarded

,in

ancien t Rom e,w ith a reveren ce that~can hardly b e sur

passed. But yet, w ith re spe ct to those om en s derivedfrom nam es, it is certain that our m odern tim es havem ore m em orable exam ple s on record. Out of a largenumber which occur to m e

,I will cite two - The presen t”

King of the French bore in his boyish days a title whichhe would nothave born e , b utfor an om en of b ad auguryattached to his proper title . Before the death of his

father Egalite’

had raised him to the prin cely honours of

Orlean s, his own proper title had been D uc do Valois .

Why then was he n ot open ly so styled ? The reason layin a secret om en of evil conn ected with that title , and

P resent: — This was written, I believe, about 1839.


he rse lf: or whether it arose from the in evitable gloomwhich broods continually over m ighty palaces, so m uch isknown for certain , that on e even ing, in the twilight, she

m etata rem ote quarter ofthe reception - room s som ething

or other that she took for a sp iritual apparition . Whatshe fan cied to have passed in this in terview with the ap

parition was n ever known except to her n earest friends ;and if she made any explanation s in her m em oirs, theeditor has thought fit to suppre ss them . All that transpired was— that som e om in ous revelation was then m adewith respect to the title of Valois

,which was the proper

second title Ofthe Orlean s fam ily; and that, in con sequen ceofthis comm un ication

,her son , the Regen t, had assum ed

in his boyhood that ofDue de Chartres . His e lder b rother was dead, so that the superior t itle was open to him ;but, in consequen ce of those m ysterious om en s

,whatever

they m ight b e,which occasion ed much whispering at the

tim e,the great title OfValois was laid aside for ever as of

b ad augury; n or has it ever been re sum ed through a cen

tury and a-half that have followed that mysterious warning ; nor will it b e resum ed

,un less the num erous children

ofthe presen t Orlean s branch should find them selves distressed for an cient titles ; which is n ot like ly, s in ce theyenjoy the honours of the e lder house

,as well as of the ir

Own , and are now (1839) the children of France in the

am plest and m ost privileged sen se .

Here we have a great European case of state om en s inthe eldes t ofChristian houses . The n ext which I shall citeis equally a state case

, and carries its public verificationalong with itse lf. I n the spring of 1799

,when Napoleon

was lying before Acre , he becam e an x l ous for n ews fromUPPEI

‘ Egypt, whither he had despatched D essaix in pursuit ofa distinguished Mam eluke leader. This was in the

MOD ERN SUPERST IT ION . 30!

m iddle ofMay. N otmany days after,a courier arrived

with favourable despatches— favourable in the m ain,but

reporting on e tragical occurren ce on a sm all scale,that to

Napoleon,for asuperstitious reason , outwe ighed the public

prosperity. A djerme, or Nile boat of the largest class,having on board a large party Of troops and of woundedm en

,together with m ost of a regim en tal band, had run

ashore at the village of Benouth . N0 case could b em ore hopeless. The n e ighbouring Arabs belonged to theYambo tribe— Of all Arabs the m ost ferocious . Thes eArabs and the Fe llahs (whom ,

by the way, many of ourcountrym en are so ready to represen t as friendly to theFren ch and hostile to ourselves) had taken the oppor

tun ity of attacking the vessel . The engagem en t was ohstinate ; b utat length the in evitable catastrophe could b ede layed no longer. The commander

,an Italian nam ed

Morandi, was a brave m an ; any fate appeared better thanthat which awaited him from an en em y so m alignan t. He

setfire to the powder magazine ; the vesse l blew up; Mo

randi perished ; and al l of less n erve , who had previouslyreached the shore in safe ty

,were put to death to the very

last m an,with cruelties the m ost detestable , by the ir in

human en em ies . For all this Napoleon cared little ; b uton e solitary fact there was in the report which struck himw ith secre t alarm . This ill - fated (Zierme- what was itcalled ? It was called L ’

Italie ; and in the nam e of the

vesse l Napoleon read an augury ofthe fate which had hefallen the Italian territory. Con sidered as a dependen cyof Fran ce

,he felt certain that Italy was lost; and Napo

leon was incon solable . Butwhat possible conn e ction , itwas asked

,can exist be tween this vesse l on the Nile and a

rem ote Pen insula ofSouthern Europe ? “NO matter,”re

pliedNapoleon ; mypresentim ents n ever deceive m e. You


w i ll see that all is ruin ed. I am satisfied that my Italy, my“

conque st,is lost to Fran ce 1” So

,inde ed, it was. All Euro

pean n ews had long be en intercepted by the English cruise rs ; b ut imm ediate ly after the French victory over theVi zier in July, 1799, an Engl ish adm iral first inform ed theFre n ch arm y of Egypt, that Massena and others had lostal l that Bonaparte had won in 179 6 . It is

,however

,a

strange illustration ofhuman bl indn ess,that this very sub

j e ctofNapoleon’

s lam en tation— this very Italian cam paignof1799— itwas, with its blun ders and its long equipage ofdisasters

,that paved the way for his own e levation to the

Con sulship,just seven calendar m on ths from the re ce ipt of

that Egyptian d'

e spatch ; sin ce m ost‘

certainly in the strug

gle OfBrumaire 1799 , doubtful and critical through everystage

,it was the pointed con trast between his own Italian

cam paign s and those ofhis successors,which gave effect to

Napoleon’s preten sion s, and which procured them a ratifi

cation am ongst the people . The loss of Italy— that losswhich so much disturb ed

'

him in Syria— was essential to theful l effect ofNapoléon

’

s previous conquest. By anythingshort ofthat tem porary ecl ipse for Fran ce , no adequate contrast be twe en him self and his rivals would have been e stab lished forNapoleon ; no open ing would have been made forMarengo in the summ er of 1800. That and the imbecilecharacters OfNapoleon ’s chief m ilitary oppon en ts were thetrue keys to the great revolution ofBrum aire . The ston ewhich he reje cted becam e the keyston e of the arch. So

that, after all, b e valued the om en falsely; though the veryn ext n ews from Europe

,courteously comm un icated by his

English en em ies, showed that he had read its imm ediateinterpretation rightly.

These om ens, derived from nam es, are therefore comm on

to the an cient and the m odern world. But perhaps, in

304: MODER N SUPERST IT I ON .

thesis ofhis death is put cautiously, under such form s as,If anything b ut good should happen ;

” “ if any change

should occur;“ if any of us should chan ce to m iscarry,

”

and so forth . Always a m odified expression is soughtalways an indirect one . A nd this tim idity arises under

the old superstition still l ingering am ongst m en , like that

ancien t awe , n oticed by Wordsworth, for the sea and its

trem endous secrets— fe e lings that have n ot,no, nor ever

will,becom e en tirely Obsolete . NO excess ofnautical skill

w ill ever perfectly disen chan t the great abyss from its terrors— no progressive knowledge will ever m edicine thatdread m isgiving ofa mysterious and pathless power givento words of a certain im port, or uttered in certain situations ; by a paren t, for in stan ce, to perse cuting or in sultingchildren ; by the victim of horrible oppression , when lab ouring in final agon ie s; * and by others

,whether cursing

or blessing,who stan d central to great passion s, to great

in terests, or to great perplexities .

A nd here , by way of paren thesis, I m ight stop to at~

tem pt an explanation of the force attached to that scriptural expression , Thou hast said it.

” It is an an sweradopted by our Saviour; and the m ean ing seem s radicallyto b e this - the popular belief authorised the notion , thatsimply to have uttered any great thesis, though uncon

sciously simply to have un ited verbally any two greatideas, though for a purpose the m ost differen t or even op

posite , had the mysterious power of realising them in act.

A n exclamation , though in the purest Spirit Of sport, addressed to a b oy, You shall be our imperator,

”was m any

tim es supposed to b e the forerunn er and fatal mandate for

A s for example in that mysterious poem ofHorace, where a dyingb oy points the fulm inations ofhis dying words against the witch thatpresides over his tortures.

MODERN SUPERST IT I ON . 05

the boy’s e levation . Words that were blind , and wordsthat were torn from fran tic depths ofanguish, often tim e s

,

it was thought, executed them selves . T o conn ect,though

b ut for den ial or for m ocke ry, the ideas of Jesus and

the Messiah— as,e.g. , A rtthou the Christ, or the A nointed ?

furn ished an augury of the ir even tual coin ciden ce . I twas an argumentum ad hominem

,and drawn from a popular

faith .

Buta m odern reader will obj ect the wan t of an aecompanying de sign or serious in ten tion on the part of himwho utters the words— he n ever m ean t his words to b etaken seriously— nay, his purpose was the very Opposite .

True : and precise ly that is the reason why his words are

like ly to,

Operate effe ctually,and why they should b e

feared. H ere lies the critical poin t which m ost of all

distinguishes this faith. Words took effe ct, notm ere ly indefault of a serious use

,b ut exactly in con sequen ce of

that default. It was the chan ce word,the stray word

,the

word uttered in j e st,or in trifling

,or in scorn

,or uncon

sciously, which took effe ct; whilst ten thousand words,uttered with purpose and de liberation , were sure to proveinert. On e case will illustrate this z— Alexander the

Great, in the outse t of his Pe rsian expedition , con sultedthe oracle atD elphi . For the sake of his arm y

,had he

been even without personal faith, he de sired to have hisen terprise grandly authorised. No persuasions, however,would m ove the priestess to en ter upon her painful andagitating duties

,for the sake of Obtain ing the regular

an swer of the god. Wearied with this, Alexander se izedthe great lady by the arm ,

and using as m uch violence aswas becom ing to the two characters— of a great princacting

,and

'a great prie stess suffering— he pushed her

gently backwards to the tripod on which,in her profes

'

N 2


sional characte r, it was requisite that she should b e

seated. Instan tly and spon tan eously, in the hurry and

excitem en t ofthe m om en t, the prieste ss exclaim ed, Q . em u,

am mo; El— O son , thou art irresistib le ; n ever adverting for

an in stant to his martial purposes in the future , b ut

s imply to his presen t personal im portun itie s at the

m om ent. The person whom she thought of as incapable

ofre sistance, was notDarius, the great King of Susa and

Pe rsepolis, ofEcbatana, and Babylon , and Sardis, b utherown wom an ly self; and all she m eant conscious ly was

0 son, I can refuse n othing to on e so earn es t. But

m ark what fol lowed : Alexander de sisted at on ce — he

asked for no further oracle— he refused it, and exclaim ed,joyously Now then , noble prieste ss, farewe ll ; I havethe oracle— I have your an swer, and better than any

which you could deliver from the tripod. I am invin cible- I am irresistible— so you have de clared, you cann ot

revoke it. True , you thought notofPersia— you thoughtonly ofm y im portun ity. But that very fact is what ratifies your an swer. I n its blindn ess I re cogn ise its truth.

A n oracle from a god m ight b e distorted by politicalm in isters of the god, as in tim e past too often has beensuspected. The oracle was said of old— to M edise; and

in m y own father’s tim e to P hilippise. But an oracledelivered un con sciously, indirectly, blindly, that is theoracle which cannot dece ive .

”Such was the all - fam ous

oracle which Alexander extorted— such was the oracle on

which he and his arm y relying wen t forth “ conqueringand to conquer.

”

Exactly on .this principle do the Turks act, in puttingso high a value on the words of idiots. En lighten edChristians aton e tim e wondered

,b ut have long ceased to

wonder, at the ir allowing any weight to peOple _

b e reftof

08 MODERN SUPERsrrrI ON .

of human n fe in its multiform ity, that m uch tam peringwith the plain sense of the text is required to bring real

cases ofhum an in terest and real situation s within the scope

ofanyVirgilian respon se , though aided by the utm ost latitude Of accomm odation . A king

,a soldier

,a sailor

,&c.

,

m ight look for corre sponden ces to the ir own c ircumstances. Accordingly, everybody rem em bers the dreadfulanswer which Charles I. rece ived at Oxford from thism ode of sortilegy at the open ing Of the Parliam en taryWar. But

,beyond the se broad obvious categories

,and

a very few subdivisions lying within them ,it is vain to

look for any reasonable com pass of discrimination in theoracles ofVirgil . Inde ed

,it was this very lim itation in

the Virgilian range Ofideas,when the case itse lf im posed

a vast Shaksperian breadth ofspeculation— afie ld ofvisionlike that on which the fiend m ay b e supposed to haveplanted Christ when showing to him all the kingdom s of

the earth— that eventually threw back the earn est ia

quiries in to .futurity upon the Sortes B ib licce. NO case,

indeed, can try so severe ly,or put upon record so conspi

cuously, this indestructible propensity for looking into thefuture by the aid Of dice

,real or figurative

,as the fact of

m en em in en t for pie ty hav ing yie lded to the temptation .

I pause, to give on e in stan ce— the instan ce of a personwho

,in practical theology, although a narrow dissenter,

has been , perhaps, m ore popular than any other in any

amongst his agnati, butamongst his cognati ; the power must run in theblood, which on the maternal side could b e unden iably ascertain ed.

Under this preconception, they took Magus not for a proper nam e, butforaprofessional designation . Am ongstmany illustrations ofthe magicalcharacter sustained by Virgil in the m iddl e ages, we may m ention that awriter

, about the year 1200, or the eraof our own Rob in Hood, published by Montfaucon , says ofVirgil , that “ Captus aRoma/s is inr z

‘

sil'ilu‘er em itiritgue N eapolim.

"

MODERN SUPERST IT I ON . 309

church . D r Doddridge , in his earl ier days,was in a

dilemm a both ofcon scien ce and of taste as to the e lectionhe should make between two situation s, on e in possession ,

both athis comm and. H e was settle d atHarborough,in

Le icestershire , and was “ pleasing him se lf w ith the viewofa con tinuan ce ” in that situation . True

,he had rece ived

an invitation to Northam pton ; b ut the reason s again stcom plying se em ed so strong, that n othing was wantingbeyond the civility of going over to Northam pton

,and

m aking an apologe tic farewe ll. Accordingly,on the last

Sunday in November of the year 1729,the doctor wen t

and preached a serm on in conform ity with those purposes . But

,says he

,on the m orn ing of that day an

inciden t happen e d which affected m e greatly.

”On the

n ight previous,it seem s he had been urged very im

portunately by his Northam pton friends to undertake thevacan t office . Much personal kindn ess had con curred withthis public im portun ity : the good doctor was affected;he had prayed ferven tly

,alleging in his prayer

,as the rea

son which chiefly we ighed with him to reject the offer,that it was far beyond his force s, and main ly because hewas too young

,

*and had no assistan t . H e goes on thus :

As soon as ever this address ” (m ean ing the prayer)was ended

,I passed through a room of the house in

which I lodged, where a child was reading to his m other,and the on ly words I heard distin ctly were these , A nd asMy days, so sfiall thy strength be.

” This singular coin cidence

betwe en his own difficulty and a scriptural lin e, caught atrandom in passing hastily through a room (but observe , a

“B ecause he was too ymmg :

—Dr Doddridge was born in the summ er of 1702 ; cons equently he was at this era of his life about twentyseven years old, and notso obviously entitled to the excuse of youth .

Buthe pleaded his youth, notw ith a view to the exertions required, but

to the auctoritas and respon sib ilities ofthe situation.

810 MODERN SUPERST IT ION .

l ine insulated from the context, and placed in high relief

to his ear), shook his resolution . Acciden t co- operated ;a prom ise to b e fulfilled at Northam pton , in a certain

con tingen cy, fell due at the instan t ; the doctor was de

tain ed; the de ten tion gave tim e for further repre sen tat ion s ; n ew m otives arose ; old difficultie s were rem oved;and finally the doctor saw,

in all this succe ssion of steps

(the first of which, however, lay in the Sorter B iblz’

cce),clear indication s of a providen tial guidan ce . With thatconviction he took up his abode at Northam pton

,and

remain ed there for the n ext thirty- on e years,un til he left

itfor his grave atLisbon ; in fact, he passed atNorthampton the whole of his public life . It m ust

,therefore

,b e

allowed to stan d upon the records ofsortilegy,that in the

m ain direction ofhis life— not, indeed, as to its Spirit, b utas to its form and local connection s —a Protestan t divin eof m uch m erit

,and chiefly in what regards practice

,and

of the class m ost opposed to superstition , who him se lfvehem ently combated superstition

,took his determ in ing

impulse from a variety ofthe Sortes Virgilz'

ance .

This variety was known in earlier tim es to the Jewsas early, inde ed, as the era of the Grecian Pericles, if weare to be lieve the “ Talmud.

” It is known fam iliarly tothis day am ongst Polish Jews, and is calledBalk- col, or the

daughter- voice ; the m ean ing ofwhich appe llation is this

The Urim and Timmmz'

m,or oracle in the breastplate of

the high priest,spoke dire ctly from God. It was

,there

fore , the original, or m other- voice . Butabout the tim e of

Pericles— that is,about on e hundred years before the tim e

ofAlexanderthe Great— the light ofprophecywas quen chedin Malachi or Haggai ; and the oracular j ewe ls in the

breastplate becam e sim ultan eously dim . H en ceforwardsthe m other - voice was heard no longer : but to this suc~

312 MODERN sursasrrrrou.

apartfrom that, the superstition is com m on . The records

of conversion am ongst felon s and other ignoran t person s

m ight b e cited by hundreds upon hundreds, to prove thatno practice is m ore comm on than that of trying the spiri~

tual fate, and abiding by the im port ofany passage in the

Scriptures which may firstpresen t itself to the eye . Cow

pe r the poet has re corded a case ofthis sort in his own e x

perien ce .It is on e to which al l the unhappy are pron e .

Butam ode ofquestion ing the oracles ‘

ofdarkn ess, far m ore

childish, and, unde r som e shape or other, equally comm on

am ongst those who are prom pted by m ere vacan cy ofm ind ,w ithout that determ inat ion to sacred foun tain s which isimpressed by m isery, m ay b e foun d in the following extravagan t sillin ess ofRousseau, which I give in his own words— a case for which he adm its that he him self would haveshut up any other m an (m ean ing in a lunatic hospital)whom he had se en practising the sam e absurdities

Au m ilieu de m es études etd’un e vie innocents autant qu’on lapuissem ener, etmalgré tout ce qu’

on m’

avoitpu dire, la peur de l ’Enfer m ’

agitoit encore . Souvent j e m e demandois— Eu que l état suis - j e

’

l Si j em ourrois a1 in stant m em e , seroz

'

s-j e dam/716 ? Selon m es Jansenistes [hehad been reading the b ook s ofthe Port Royal] , la chose est indubitable :mais, selon ma con science , il m e paroissoit que non . Toujours craintifetflottantdans cette cruelle incertitude

, j’

avois recours (pour en sortir)aux expedients l es plus risibles, et pour lesquels j e ferois volontiers en

ferm er umhomm e si j e lui en voyois faire autant. Uh jour, révant acc triste sujet

, j e m’

e x ercois machinalem ent alancer les pierrescontre les troncs des arbres ; et celaavec mon addresse ordinaire , c’est-adire sans presque jamais en toucher aucun . T out au m ilieu de ce b elexercise, j e m ’

avisai de faire une espece de pronostic pour calmer moninquiétude . J6 m e dis— j e m

’

en vais jeter cette pierre contre l’arbre quiestvis -a-vis de m oi : si j e le touche, signe de salut : si j e l e manque, signsde damnation . Tout en disant ainsi, j e jette ma pierre d’une main tremb lante etavec nuhorrible battement de coeur, mais si heureusem ent qu’ellevafrapper au beau-m ilieu de l’arbre : ce qui véritablem ent n ’

étoit pas

difiicile : car j’

avois eu soin de ls choisir fort gros etfert prés. D epuis

lore j e n’

ai plus doubte’

de m on salut. Js ne sais, en m e rappelantostrait si j e dois rire ou gémir sur moim em e.

”— Les Confessions, Partie I .

s re VI .

MOD ERN SUPERST I T ION . 313

N ow,really

,if Rousseau thought fit to try such trem eu

dous appeals by taking a. shy” at any random object,he

should have govern ed his sortilege (for such it may b ecalled) with som ething m ore like e quity. Fair play is aj ew e l : and in such a case a m an 1s supposed to playagain st an adverse party hid in darkn ess . To shy at a

cow within six fee t distan ce gives n o chan ce at all to his

dark an tagon ist. A pigeon rising from a trap ata. suitabledistan ce m ight b e thought a. sincere staking ofthe interestat issue : b utas to the massy stem ofa tre e “fort gros et fortpres ”— the sarcasm ofaRoman em peror applies

,thattom iss

under such condition s im plied an original gen ius for m issing, so that to hit as it involved no risk— was n o hon esttrial ofthe case . After all

,the sentim entalist had youth to

plead in apology for this extravagan ce . H e was hypochon

driacal ; he was in solitude ; and he was possessed by gloom yimagination s from the works of a socie ty in the highestpublic credit. Butm ost readers wil l b e aware of s im ilarappeals to the m ysterie s ofProviden ce

,made in public by

we ll - kn own sectarian s, speaking from the solem n stationofa pulpit. I forbear to quote cases ofthis nature

,though

really existing in print, because I fee l that the profan en ess ofsuch an ecdote s is m ore revolting and m ore painful to piousm inds than the absurdity is amusing. Mean tim e it m ustn ot b e forgotten , that the principle con cern ed, though itmay happen to disgust m en when associated with ludicrouscircum stan ces

,is,after all

,the very sam e which has 1a

tently govern ed very many m ode s of ordeal,or judicial

inquiry; and which has be en adopted as a m oral rule or

can on, equally by the b lindest of the Pagan s, the m ost

fanatical of.the Jews

,and the m ost en lighten ed of the

Christian s. It proceeds upon the assum ption that m anby his actions puts a question to Heaven ; and that

0— 111.

314 MODERN surnasrrrrom

Heaven answers by the event. Lucan , in a we ll - knownpassage

,takes it for granted that the cause of Caesar had

the approbation ofthe gods. Butwhy ? Simply from the

even t. Notoriously it was the triumphan t cause . It wasvictorious. It was the vieira

'

s: causa; and,as such , sim ply

because it was “ victrix,

” it had a right in his eyes to postulate the divin e favour as m ere m atter of n ecessary inference : whilst, on the other hand

,the victa causa

,though i t

seem ed to Lucan san ction ed and consecrated by humanvirtue in the person of Cato, stood, as regarded heaven lyverdicts

,unappealably condem n ed.

* This m ode of rea

son ing may strike the reader as m erely Pagan . Not at

all. In England,atthe close of the Parliam en tary War

,

it was gen erally argued, that Providen ce had de cided thequestion against the Royalists by the m ere fact of theissue . Milton him se lf

,with all his high - ton ed m orality

,

uses this argum en t as irrefragable ; which is odd, were iton ly on this account— that the issue ought n e cessarily tohave been held for a very considerable tim e as m erelyprovisional, and liable to b e set aside by possible counter- issues through on e generation at the Butthe

Vich‘ix causaD eis placuit; sed oicta Catonif- that cause which triumphed approved itselfto the gods ; b ut, in retal iation , the vanquishedcause approved itself to Cato. Perhaps

, in all human experience, inbooks er in colloquial intercourse

,there never was so grand, so awful a

compliment paid to an individual as this ofLucan ’

s to'

Cato; nor, according to my own judgment, one so entirely m isplaced. On e solitary individual, in his single person , is made to counterpoise by weight of anatoritas and power of sanction the entire Pantheon. The Jul ian cause

might have seem ed the better, for it won the favour ofHeaven . ButThe Pompeian must have been the better, for it won the favour of

a

And in factnotm erely liab le to b e set aside, b ut actually setasidein 1660by the Restoration. This reversal was again partially reversed,or at least to a great extent virtual ly reversed, by the Revolution of1688- 9 : upon which great event the true judgment, too little perceived

316 MODERN sursas'rrriozr.

of these, perhaps non e , which are not un iversal in the ir

authority, though every land in turn fancie s them (like itsproverbs) oflocal authority and origin . The death -watch,for in stan ce, extends from England to Cashm ere

,and across

Indiato the rem otest nook of Bengal . A hare crossing a

m an’

s path on starting in the m orn ing, has been held in

all countries alike to prognosticate evil in the course ofthat day. Thus, in the Confession s ofa Thug ” (which is

partial ly built on a real judicial docum en t, and everywhereconform s to the usages ofH indostan), the hero Of the he r

rid narrative“ charges som e disaster ofhis own upon hav

ing n eglected such an om en in the m orn ing. The sam e

bel ief Operated in Pagan Italy. The sam e om en announ cedto Lord Lindsay’s Arab attendan ts in the desert the ap

proach of som e disaster, which partially happen ed in them orn ing. A nd aHighlander of the 42d regim en t, in his

prin ted m em oirs,notices the sam e harbinger of evil as

having crossed his own path on a day of personal disasterin Spain .

I he hero ofthe horrid narrative — Horrid itcertainly is ; and oneincident in every case gives a dem oniacal air ofcoolness to the hellish atrocities— viz .

, the regular forwarding of the bheels, for the purpose of digging the graves . But else the tale tends too much to m onotony; and fora reason which ought to have checked the author in carrying on the workto three volumes; nam ely, that, although there is much dramatic varietyin the circum stances of the several cases, there is none in the catastrophes. The brave man and the coward, the erect spirit fighting to thelast, and the poor creature that despairs from the first— all are con

founded in one undistinguishing end by sudden strangulation. This wasthe original defect ofthe plan. The sudden surprise, and the scientificnoosing as with aChilian lasso, constituted, in fact, the main feature ofThuggee . But still, the gradual theatrical arrangem ent of each Thugseverally by the side ofa.victim , must often have roused violent suspicion, and that in tim e to intercept the suddenness ofthe murder. Now,

for the sake ofthe dramatic effect, this interception ought more often tohave

.

b een introduced, else the murders are b ut so many blind surprisesas ifm sleep. A ll this m ight have been managed otherwise.

MODERN surnasrrrrou.

‘

317

Birds are even m ore fam iliarly associated with suchom inous warn ings. This chapter in the great volum e of

superstition was indeed cultivated with unusual sol icitudeam ongst the Pagans— orn ithomancy ( or the derivation of

om en s from the m otion s of birds)grew in to an e laboratescien ce . But if every rule and distin ction upon the num

her and the position of birds , whether to the right or theleft, had be en colle cted from our own village m atron s

,it

would appear that no m ore ofthis Pagan scien ce had gon eto wreck am ongst ourse lves, than m ust naturally followthe differen ce betwe en a believing and a disbelieving governm ent. Magpie s are still ofawful authority in villagelife

,according to the ir num ber

,&c. ; for a striking illus

tre tie n of which I m ay refer the reader to Sir WalterScott’s “ D em on ology

,

”reported n ot at secon d - hand

, b ut

from Sir Walter’s personal comm un ication with som e seafaring fellow- trave ller in a stage - coach “

Am ong the an cien t stories ofthe sam e class is on e which

Since this was first written , Haydon the painter, in his Autob iography [I . p . refers to this ancient superstition in term s which Ihave reason to think inaccurate She

”

(his m other) “ appeared depressed and m elancholy. During the journey, four magpies rose , chattered

,and flew away. The singular superstitions about the bird were

rem embered by us al l . I repeated to myselfthe old saw On e for sor

row,two for m irth, three for a wedding , andfearfor death.

’I tried to

deceive my dear m other, by declaring that twowere for death, an d fourfor m irth : b ut she persisted that four announced death in Devon shire ;and absurd as we fe lt it to b e , we could not shake Off the superstition .

”

About three O’clock in the succeeding night Mrs Haydon died. Meantime , whatever may b e the D evon shire version ofthe old saying, I amassured by a lady that the form current elsewhere is this : !

On e for sorrow ;Two for m irth ;

Three for a.weddingA nd four for a birth.

”

And it is clear that the rhyme in the latter reading Offers some guaranteefor its superior accuracy.

318 MODERN surnasrr'r ION .

I will repeat— having reference to that Herod Agrippa,grandson ofHerod the Great, before whom StPaul made

his fam ous apology at Caesarea. This Agrippa, overwhelm ed by debts, had fled from Palestin e to Rom e in thelatter years of Tib erids. His m other’s in terest with thew idow of German icus procured him a special re comm en

dation to her son Caligula. Viewing this child and he ir

of the lam ented German icus as the r ising sun, Agrippa

had been too careless in his language . True , the un cle of

German icus was the re ign ing prin ce ; b ut he was Old, andbreaking up. True , the son ofGerman icus was n otyet onthe thron e ; but he soon would b e ; so that Agrippa wasrash enough to call the emperor a superannuated e ldfellew ,

and even to wish for his death . Sejanus was now deadand gon e ; b ut there was n o wan t of spies : and a certainMacro reported his words to Tiberius. Agrippawas incon sequence arrested ; the emperor him self condescendingto poin t out the noble Jew to the Officer on duty. The

case was a gloomy on e,if Tiberius should happen to sur

vive much longer : and the story of the om e n proce edsthus Now Agrippa stood in his bonds before the imperial palace

,and in his afiiiction lean ed against a certain

tre e , upon the boughs of which it happen ed that a birdhad alighted which the Rom an s call babe

,or the owl . All

this was steadfastly observed by a German prison er, whoasked a soldier what m ight b e the nam e and offence ofthatman habited in purple . Be ing told that the man ’

s nam e

was Herod Agrippa, and that he was aJew Of high rank,who had given a personal offence to the em peror, theGerman asked perm ission to go n ear and address him ;which being granted

,he spoke thus This disaster, I

doubt not, young man , is trying to your heart ; and perhaps you will notbelieve m e when I announ ce to you b e

320 MODERN sursas'rrrrorr.

sl ipped away as silen tly as a dream . A great festival,

with publ ic shows and votive offerings, was on the poin t ofbeing celebrated in honour of Claudius Caesar

,at Strato’s

Tower,otherwise cal led Caesarea, which (and n otJerusalem)

was the Roman m e tropolis ofPalestin e . Duty and policyalike required that the king of the lan d should go downand un ite in this m ode ofre ligious hom age to the emperor.

H e did so; and on the second m orn ing of the festival,by

way ofdoing m ore con spicuous honour to the great solemn ity, he assum ed a very sum ptuous attire ofsilver arm our

,

burn ished so highly as to throw back a dazzling glarefrom the sun ’s m orn ing beam s upon the upturn ed eye s ofthe vast m ultitude around him . Imm ediately from the

sycophan tish part ofthe crowd,Of whom a vast majority

were Pagan s, ascended a cry of glorification as to som e

m an ife station ofD e ity. Agrippa,gratified by this success

ofhis n ew apparel, and by this flattery, had n ot the firm

n ess (though a Jew, and con scious of the wickedn ess,

greater in him se lf than in the heathen crowd) to rej ectthe blasphem ous homage . Voices of adoration continuedto ascend; when sudden ly looking upward to the vastawn ings prepare d for screen ing the audien ce from the noon

day heats, the king perce ived the sam e om inous bird whichhe had se en at Rom e in the day of his affliction , seatedquie tly, and looking down upon him self. I n that sam e m o

m en t an icy pang shot through his in testin es. H e was re

m ove d into the palace ; and atthe end offive days, com pletelyworn outby pain

,Agrippa expired

,in the fifty

- fourth yearofhis age, and the seven th ofhis sovere ign power.

Whether the bird,here described as an owl, were really

such,m ay b e doubted, considering the narrow nom en cla

ture of the Roman s for all z oological purposes, and the

total indifference ofthe Roman m ind to all distin ctions in

MODERN SUPERsr irroN . 21

natural history which are not upon the verylargest scale .

I myself am greatly disposed to suspect that the bird wasa m agpie . Meantim e , speaking of orn ithoscopy in relation to Jews, I rem ember another story in that sub divis ion of the subj ect which it may b e worth while repeating ; n ot m erely on its own accoun t

,as wearing a fine

orien tal air, but also for the correction which it suggeststo a very comm on error.

I n som e period of Syrian warfare,a large m ilitary de

tachm ent was entering at som e point of Syria from the

de sert ofthe Euphrate s. At the head ofthe whole arrayrode two men of som e distinction : on e was an augur of

high reputation,the othe r was a Jew called Mose llam ,

a

m an ofadm irable beauty,a matchless horsem an

,un erring

as an archer,and accom pl ished in all martial arts. A s they

W ere n ew first com ing within en closed grounds, after along m arch in the wildern ess, the augur was m ost anxiousto inaugurate the expedition by som e im pressive om en .

Watching anxiously, therefore , he soon saw a bird of

Sple ndid plumage perching on a low wall. “Halt ! ” hesaid to the advan ced guard : and all drew up in a line .

At that m om en t of silence and '

expectation , Mose llam,

slight ly turn ing him se lf in his saddle, drew his b ow - stringto his ear ; his Jewish hatred of Pagan auguries burn edwithin him ; his in evitable shaft wen t right to its m ark,and the beautiful bird fell dead. The augur turn ed roundin fury. But the Jew laughed at him .

“ This bird, you

say, should have furn ished us w ith om ens Of our future

fortun es. A nd yet, had he known anything of his own,

he would n ever have perched where he did, or have com e

w ithin the o range of Mose llam’

s archery. How shouldthat bird know our destiny, who did notknow that itwas

his own to b e shot by Mose llam the Jew l ”

322 MOD ERN SUPERST I'I I ON .

N ew,this is a comm on but a m ost erron eous way of

arguing. I n a case ofthis kind, the bird was not supposedto have any conscious acquaintan ce with futurity

, e itherfor his own ben efit or that of others . But e ven wheresuch a con sciousn ess m ay b e supposed

,as in the case of

on e iroman cy, or prophecy by m ean s ofdream s,it must b e

supposed lim ited, and the m ore lim ited in apersonal sen se,

as it is illim itable in a sublim er or spiritual sen se . W ho

imagin es that, because an Ezekie l foresaw the grandrevolution s ofthe earth, therefore he m ust or could haveforeseen the little de tails Of his own ordinary life ? A nd

even descen ding from that perfe ct in spiration to the m ore

doubtful power of augury am ongst the Pagans (con cerning which the m ost em in en t of theologian s have held veryOpposite theories), on e thing is certain

,that

,so long as

we en tertain such preten sion s, or discuss them at all,w e

must take them with the prin ciples of those who profe ssed such arts, notwith prin ciples of our own arbitraryinven tion .

On e exam ple will m ake this clear z— The re are in England * a class ofm en who practise the Pagan rhabdom ancyin a lim ited sense . They carry a rod or rhabdos (games)of willow : this they hold horizon tal ly; and by the bending of the rod towards the groun d they discover the favourab le places for sinking wells ; amatter ofcon siderable

“There are in E ngland

— Especially in Som ersetshire, and for

twenty m iles round Wrington , the birthplace of Locke. Nobody sinksfor we lls without the ir advice . I myself knew an am iable Scottishfam ily, who, at an estate called Belmaduthie, in m emory of a sim ilarproperty in Ross - shire, built a house in Som ersetshire, and resolved tofind water without help from the jowser. But, after sinking to a greaterdepth than ever had been kn own before , and spending a large sum of

m oney, they were finally obliged to consult the jowser, who found wateraton ce.

324 MOD ERN SUPERST I T I ON .

doubt recovered; b uta larger per- centege has disappearedfor ever. H en ce naturally the j ealousy ofbarbarous Or1e ntals that w e European s

,in grOping am ongst pyram ids

,

sphinxes,and tombs

,are looking for buried treasures . The

wretche s are not so wide astray in what they believe,as

in what they disbelieve . The treasure s do really existwhich they fan cy; b ut then also the other treasures in theglorious an tiquities have that existen ce for our sen se of

beauty which to the ir brutality is in con ce ivab le . I n thesec ircum stan ces, why should it surprise us that m en willpursue the scien ce ofdiscovery as a regular trade ? Manyd iscoverie s of treasure are doubtless made con tinually,which

,for obvious reason s

,are comm un icated to n obody.

Som e proportion s there m ust b e be twe en the sewing of

such grain as diam onds or em eralds, and the subsequentreaping

,whether by acciden t or by art. For

,with regard

to the last,it is n o m ore im possible

, primdfronte, that asubstan ce m ay exist hav ing an occult sym pathy with subterran eous water or subterran eous gold

,than that the m ag

n et should have a sym pathy (as yet occult) with the northern pole ofour plan et.The first flash ofcareless thought applied to such a case

will sugge st,that m en holding powers of this nature n eed

n ot offer the ir service s for hire to othe rs . A nd this,in

fact,is the obje ction un iversally urged by us European s

as de cisive again st the ir preten sion s. The ir knavery, it isfan cied

,stands se lf- re corded; s in ce assuredly they would

not b e willing to divide the ir subterran ean treasure s, ifthey kn ew ofany . Am ong the fragm en ts still survivingofthe Roman poe t Enn ius

,is an e legant series ofverses ,

in which he expresses this opin ion with a. fierce ton e of

m ockery for the vulgar disposition to coun tenance pretens ions that seem self- exposed as so manife stly fraudulen t.

MOD ERN SUPERST IT I ON .

But the m en are n ot in such self- con tradiction as m ightse em . Lady H ester Stanhope , from the am pler knowledgewhich she had acquired of oriental opin ion s

, set D r Mad

den right on this point. The oriental be lief is,that a fa

tality attends the appropriator of a treasure in any casewhere he happen s also to b e the discoverer. Such a person

, it is he ld , will die soon and suddenly; so that he iscom pelled to seek his remun eration from the wages or fe esofhis em ployers

,n ot from the

/

treasure itse lf.Gen erally

,I m ay rem ark

,that the sam e practices Ofsub ~

terran ean deposits,during our troub led periods in Europe

,

led to the sam e superstition s. A nd it m ay b e added, thatthe sam e error has arisen in both cases as to som e ofthesesuperstition s . How often m ust it have struck people of

liberal fe e lings,as a scandalous proof ofthe preposterous

value set upon riches by poor m en,that ghosts should

popularly b e supposed to rise and wander for the sake of

revealing the situations ofburied treasures. For m y own

part,I have be en accustom ed to view this popular be lie f

as an argum en t for pity rather than for con tem pt towardspoor m en , as indicating the extrem e pressure of that mecessity which could so far have dem oralised the ir natural

sen se of truth and m oral proportion s. But certainly, inwhatever fe elings originating, and howsoever excusable in

poor m en , such popular superstition s as to the m otives of

ghostly m ission s did seem to argue a deplorable m iscon

ception of the re lation subsisting betwe en the spiritualworld and the perishable treasures of this perishable

world. Yet, when we look in to the eastern explanation softhis case , we find it subj ect to a very differen t reading,and that it is m ean t to express, notany over- valuation of

riches,but the direct con trary passion . A human spirit

is pun ished— such is the notion— in the spiritual world for


excessive attachm en t to gold, by degradation to the ofliceofits guardian ; and from this office the tortured spirit canre lease itself only by revealing the treasure and transferring the custody. It is a penal m artyrdom

,notan e le c

t ive passion for gold, which is thus exem plified in the wanderings ofa treasure - ghost.But, in a fie ld where of n ecessity I am so much l im ited

,

I willingly pass from the consideration of these treasureor lehasne

’ phan tom s (which alon e sufficien tly insure a swarmof ghostly terrors for all orien tal ruin s of cities) to thesam e m arve llous apparition s

,as they haun t other solitudes

even m ore awful than those ofruin ed citie s. I n this worldthere are two m ighty form s ofperfe ct solitude— the oceanand the de sert : the w ildern ess of the barren sands

,and

the wildern ess ofthe barren waters . Both are the paren tsofin evitable superstition s— ofterrors

,solem n

,in eradicable

,

e ternal. Sailors and the children of the de se rt are alikeoverrun with spiritual haun tings

,from accidents of peril

e ssen tially con n ected w ith the se m odes of life,and from

the e ternal spectacle ofthe infin ite . Voices seem to blen dw ith the raving of the sea, which will for ever im pressthe fe e ling ofbe ings m ore than hum an : and every chamberof the great wildern e ss which

,with little interruption

,

stre tches from the Euphrate s to the we stern shore s of

Africa,has its own peculiar terrors both as to sights and

sounds . In the wildern e ss of Z in,betwe en Palestin e and

the Red Sea, a section of the de sert we ll known in thesedays to our own coun trym en

,be lls are heard daily pealing

for m atins or for vespers, from som e phan tom conven tthat no search of Christian or of Bedouin Arab has everbeen able to discover. These bells have sounded sincethe Crusades. Other sounds

,trum pets, the A lala of

arm ies, e m, are heard in other regions of the desert.

328 MODERN surnnsrrrm N .

deed, of the Eastern or Tartar deserts ; the steppeswhich stretch from European Russ ia to the footsteps of

the Chin ese thron e ; b ut exactly the sam e cre ed pre vailsam ongst the Arabs, from Bagdad to Suez and Cairo— fromRose tta to Tun is— Tun is to Timbuctoo or M equin e z .

“If,

during the daytim e ,” says b e

,

“any person should rem ain

behind,un til the caravan is no longer in sight, he hears

him se lf un e x pectedly called to by nam e , and in a voicewith which he is fam iliar. Not doubting that the voiceproce eds from som e of his com rades

,the unhappy m an is

beguiled from the right dire ction ; and soon finding himse lf utterly confounded as to the path

,he roam s about in

distraction,un til he perishes m iserably. If

,on the other

hand,this perilous separation ofhim self from the caravan

should happen at n ight,he is sure to hear the uproar ofa

great cavalcade a m ile or two to the right or left ofthe truetrack. H e is thus seduced on on e side : and at break of

day finds him self far rem oved from m an . N ay, even at

n oonday,it is well kn own that grave and respe ctable m en

,

to all appearan ce , will com e up to a particular trave ller,will bear the look Of a friend

,and will gradually lure him

by earn e st conversation to a distan ce from the caravan ;after which the sounds of m en and cam els will b e heardcon tinually atall poin ts b utthe true on e ; whilst an in sensible turn ing by the ten th ofan in ch ateach separate stepfrom the true dire ction will very soon suffice to set the

traveller’s face to the opposite poin t of the com pass fromthat which his safe ty require s

,and which his fan cy repre

sen ts to him as his real dire ction . Marve llous,indeed

,

and alm ost passing be l ief,are the stories reported ofthese

de sert phan tom s, which are said at tim es to fill the air

w ith choral m usic from all kinds of in strum en ts,from

drum s, and the clash of arm s : so that oftentim es a whole

M ODERN SUPERsrr'rION . 329

caravan are obliged to close up the ir open ranks,and to

proce ed in a compact line ofmarch .

”

Lord Lindsay,in his very interesting Travels through

Egypt,Edom

,&c.,

agrees with Warton in supposing (andprobably enough) that from this accoun t of the deserttradition s in Marco Polo was derived Milton’s fin e passagein Comus

“Ofcall ing shapes, and beckon ing shadows dire,And aery tongues that syllable m en ’

s nam es

On sands, and shores, and desert W ildern esses.

Butthe m ost remarkable of these desert superstition s,as suggested by the m en tion ofLord Lindsay

,is on e which

that young nobleman,in som e p lace which I cannot im

m ediately find,has noticed, and which he was destin ed

by a personal calam ity imm ediately to illustrate . LordLindsay quotes from Vin cen t le Blan e an an ecdote of a

m an in his own caravan,the com pan ion of an Arab m er

chan t, who disappeared in a m ysterious m ann er. Four

Moors,w ith a re tain ing fe e Of 100 ducats, were sen t in

que st ofhim, b ut cam e back re infectd. And

’tis un certain

,adds Le Blan e

,

“whe ther he was swallowed up in

the sands, or m et his death by any other m isfortun e ; asit often happen s, by the re lation ofa m erchan t then in our

com pany,who told us that, two years before , traversing

the sam e journ ey, a com rade of his,going a little aside

from the com pany, saw thre e m en , who called him byhis nam e ; and on e ofthem , to his thinking, favoured verym uch his com pan ion ; and, as he was about to followthem

,his real com pan ion calling him to com e back to his

com pany,he found him self de ce ived by the others

,and

thus was saved. A nd all trave llers in these parts hold,that in the desert are many such phantasm s seen , thatstrive to seduce the traveller.

” Thus far it is the trave l0 2


le r’

s own fault,warn ed as he is con tinually by the extrem e

anxiety ofthe Arab leaders or guides, with re spect to allwho stray to any distan ce, if he is duped or enticed bythese pseudo-m en : though, in the case of Lapland dogs

,

who ought to have a surer in stin ct of de te ction for counterfe its, we know from Sir Capel de Broke and others

,

that they are continually wiled away by the wolve s whoroam about the n ightly en cam pm en ts of trave llers . But

there is a secondary disaster,according to the Arab supe r

stition,awaiting those whose eye s are on ce open ed to the

discernm en t ofthese phan tom s . To se e them,or to hear

them,even where the traveller is careful to refuse the ir

lures,en tails the certain ty ofdeath in n o long tim e . This

is another form of that un iversal faith which m ade it impossible for any man to survive a bodily com m e rce

,by

whatever sen se,with a Spiritual be ing. W e find it in the

Old Te stam en t,where the expression

,

“ I have seen God,

and shall die,

”m eans sim ply a supernatural be ing ; s in ce

n o H ebrew be lieved it possible for a nature pure ly humanto sustain for a m om en t the sight of the Infin ite Be ing .

W e find the sam e faith am ongst ourselves,in the case of

doppelganger becom ing apparen t to the sight Ofthose whomthey coun terfe it

,and in m any other varieties . W e m odern

European s,ofcourse , laugh at these superstition s ; though,

as La Place remarks (“ E ssai sur les Prob ab ilites” any

case,however apparen tly in credible , if it is a re curren t

case,is as m uch entitled to a fair valuation as if it had

be en m ore probable beforehand .

"b This be ing prem ised,

“I s as much entitled to afair valuation , un der the laws of induc

tion , as if it had b een more probab le beforehand : — On e of the cases

which La P lace notices as entitled to agrave con sideration , b ut whichwould m ost assuredly b e treated as a trivial phenom enon , unworthy ofattention , by comm onplace spectators, is , when a run ofsuccess, with no

apparent cause,tak es place on heads or tails (pile on creix ). Most


horseman could have been in that n e ighbourhood at thattim e . Lord Lindsay records the case as an illustration of“ that spiritualised ton e the im agination naturally assum e s,in scenes presen ting so l ittle sym pathy with the ordinaryfe e l ings of hum an ity;

”and he reports the case in these

pointed term s : Mr Ram say,aman ofrem arkably strong

s ight, and by no m ean s disposed to superstitious credulity,

distin ctly saw a party of horse m oving am ong the sandhills ; and I do n ot believe he was ever able to divest him ‘

se lf ofthat im pression .

” No— and,according to Arab in

terpretation , very naturally so; for, according to the irfaith

,he really had se en the horsem en ; phan tom horsem en

certain ly, b ut still Obj e cts of sight . The seque l remain s

to b e told. By the Arabian hypothesis, Mr Ram say hadb uta short tim e to l ive— he was under a secre t summ on s

to the n ext world ; and accordingly, in a few we eks afterthis

,whilst Lord Lindsay had gon e to visit Palmyra

,Mr

Ramsay died atDam ascus.This was a case exactly corresponding to the Pagan

ngmphe lepsis— he had se en the be ings whom it is not law

ful to see and live . Another case of eastern superstition,

not less de term ined, and not le ss remarkably fulfilled,occurred som e years before to D r Madden

,who travelled

pretty m uch in the sam e route as Lord Lindsay. The

doctor,as a phrenologist

,had been struck with the very

singular con formation ofa skull which he saw am ongstm any others on an altar in som e Syrian conven t. He

offere d a con siderable sum in gold for it; b ut it was byrepute the skul l of a saint ; and the m onk with whom D r

Madden attem pted to n egotiate , noton ly refused his cfl'

ers,

b utprotes te d that even for the doctor’s sake, apart from theinterests of the conven t

,he could not ven ture on such a

transfer : for that,by the tradition attached to it, the skull

MODERN SUPERST I T ION . 333

would endanger any ve sse l carrying it from the Syrianshore ; the vesse l m ight e scape ; b ut it would n ever suc

oe cd in reaching any but a Syrian harbour. After this,for the credit of our coun try, which stands so high in theEast

,and Should be so pun ctiliously tended by all Eng

lishm en,I am sorry to record that D r Madden (though

otherwise a m an of scrupulous honour) yie lded to the

tem ptation ofsubstituting for the sain t’s skull an other lessremarkable from his own colle ction . With this sain tlyre lic he embarked on board aGrecian ship ; was alternate lypursued and m etby storm s the m ost violen t ; larboard andstarboard

,on every quarter, he was b ufleted; the win d

blew from every poin t ofthe com pass ; the doctor hon estlycon fesses that he often wished this baleful skull back insafe ty on the quie t altar from which he took it ; and

finally,after m any days of anxie ty, he was too happy in

finding him se lf quietly re stored to som e oriental port, fromwhich he secretly vowed n ever again to sail with a sain t’sskull

,or with any skull

,however remarkable phrenolo

gically, that had notbeen paid for in an open m arke t .Thus I have pursued

,through m any of its m ost m em o

rable section s, the spirit of the m iraculous as it m ouldedand gathered itself in the superstition s ofPagan ism ; and Ihave shown that, in the m odern superstition s of Christiamity, or of Mahom etanism (often enough borrowed fromChris tian sources), there is a pre tty regular corresponde nce . Speaking with a referen ce to the strictly popularbelief, it cannot b e preten ded for a m om en t that m iraculous agen cie s are slum bering in m odern age s . For one

superstition of that nature wh ich the Pagan s had,we can

produce twen ty. A nd if,from the collation of numbers

,

we should pass to that of quality,it is a matter of note

riety, that from the very philosophy of Pagan ism ,and its

334 MOD ERN SU PERST IT l ON .

slight root in the terrors or profounder m ysterie s of

Spiritual nature,no com parison could b e sustain ed for a

m om en t be tween the true re ligion and any m ode whatever of the false . Ghosts I have purpose ly om itted

,

be cause that idea is so peculiarly Christian as to rejectall coun terparts or affin itie s from other m odes of the

supernatural . The Christian ghost is too awful a presen ce, and w ith too large a substratum of the real

, the

impassion ed, the hum an , for my presen t purpose s . Ideal chiefly with the wilde r and m ore aerial form s of

superstition ; n ot so far off from fleshly nature as the

purely allegoric— n ot so n ear as the penal , the purgatorialthe pen iten tial . In this m iddle class , Gabrie l

’s hounds

- the “ phan tom ship ” — the gloomy legends of the charcoal - burn ers in the Germ an forests — and the local or

epichorial superstition s from eve ry district of Europe,

com e forward by thousands, attesting the high activity of

the m iraculous and the hyperphysical in stin cts, even inthis gen eration , wheresoever the voice ofthe people makesitse lf heard .

But in Pagan tim es,it will b e objected

,the popular

superstition s blended them selves with the highest politicalfun ctions

,gave a san ction to national counsels

,and often

t im e s gave the ir starting- poin t to the very primary m ovem ents ofthe state . Prophe cies

,om en s

,m iracles

,all worked

con curren tly with senates or princes. Whereas,in m odern

days,says Charles Lam b

,the witch who takes her pleasure

w ith the m oon,and sum m ons Be elzebub to her sabbaths

,

“Because that idea is so peculiarly Chri stian

— One reason, additlenal to the main one

,why the idea of a ghost could notb e conceived or

reproduced by Pagan ism ,lies in the Pagan fourfold resolution ofthe

human nature atdeath— viz., into— 1 . cmpus; 2. ma/nes; 3. spiri tus; 4

waima. After such a dispersion of its separate elem ents, no restitutionofthe total nature or consciousness was possible.

336 MODERN SUPERST I T ION .

his dark oracles som e tim e s with a m e rely Cestrian,some

tim es with a national referen ce . Whereas in Fran ce ,throughout the sixte en th cen tury, every prin cipal even twas fore told successive ly, with an accuracy that stillshocks and confounds us. Fran cis I .

, who Open s the

century (and by m any is he ld to open the book of modern

history,as distinguished from the m iddle orfeudal history),

had the battle of Pavia fore shown to him,not by nam e

,

b ut in its results— b y his own Span ish captivity— by theexchange for his own children upon a fron tier river of

Spain— finally, by his own disgraceful death,through an

infam ous disease conveyed to him under a deadly circuitof revenge . This king’s son , H enry II., read som e yearsbefore the even t a description of that tournam en t

,on the

m arriage ofthe Scottish Que en with his e ldest son , Fran cisII.

,which proved fatal to him se lf

,through the awkward

n ess ofthe Compte de Montgom ery and his own obstinacy.

After this,and, I be l ieve , a little after the brief re ign of

Fran cis II.,arose Nostradam us

,the great prophet of the

age . All the children of Henry II. and of Catherin e deMedici

,on e after the other, died in circum stan ces ofsuffer

ing and horror; and Nostradamus pursued the whole withallusive om ens. Charles I ! .

,though the authoriser ofthe

Bartholom ew m assacre, was the least guilty of his party

,

and the on ly on e who m an ifested a dreadful rem orse .

Henry III.,the last of the brothers, died, as the reader

will rem em ber,by assassination . The youngest brother

v iz. , the Duke of Alencon , the suitor of our Queen Elizabeth, the sam e who

,in his later days, after his brother

H enry had becom e a king,took the title ofD uke ofAnjou

— died in m ore abj e ct m isery even than the rest of hisfam ily. A nd all these tragic successions of events are

s till to be read,more or less dim ly prefigured, in verses of

MODERN svrnnsm rrou. 337

which I will not here discuss the dates. Suffice it,that

many authentic historian s attest the good faith of the

prophe t ; and finally, with respect to the first ofthe Bourbondynasty, Henry IV.

, who succeeded upon the assassinationofhis brother - in - law,

Henry III.,we have the peremptory

assuran ce ofSully and other Protestants,coun tersigned by

writers both historical and controversial,that notonly was

he prepared, by many warn ings, for his own tragical death- not on ly was the day, the hour, prefix ed— not only wasan almanack sent to him ,

in which the bloody summ er’

s day

of1610 was pointed outto his attention in bloody colours ;b ut the m ere record of the king’s last afternoon shows,beyond a doubt

,the exten t and the pun ctual l im itation of

his anxietie s within a circuit of six hours. I n fact,it is

to this attitude of listen ing expectation in the king, andbreathless waiting for the blow, that Schiller alludes inthat fine speech of Wallenstein to his sister, where he

n otices the fun eral kn ells that sounded con tinually in

H enry’s ears,and

,above all

,his prophetic instinct, that

caught from a far distance the sound of his murderer’s

m otion s,and could distinguish, am idst all the tumult ofa

m ighty capital those stealthy steps

W hich even then were seeking himThroughout the streets ofParis.

”

I,for my part, profess not to adm ire Henry IV. of

Fran ce, whose secre t and real character is best learn ed

from the confiden tial report made by Sir G. Carew to the

Coun cil or to the Fore ign Secretary of Queen E lizabe th,

In dism issing his guards, as fe eling that against a danger

so dom estic and so mysterious all fleshly arm s were vain .

P— I I I .


This has always struck m e as the m ost like magnanim ityofanything in his very theatrical life )“

Passing to our own coun try, and to the tim es imm e

diately in succession , we fall upon som e striking prophecies,notverbal b ut sym bolic, if we turn from the broad highway of public histories to the b y- paths of private m em o

rials . E ither Clarendon it is, in his Life (not his publichistory), or else Laud

,who m en tion s an an ecdote con

n ected with the coronation ofCharles I . (the son - in - law bf

the m urdered Bourbon), which threw a gloom upon thespirits ofthe royal friends

,already sadden ed by the dread

ful pestilen ce which inaugurated the re ign of this ill- fatedprin ce

,levying a tribute of one life in sixteen from the

population of the English m etropolis. The an ecdote isthis z— Atthe coronation ofCharles, it was discovered thatall London could not furn ish the quan tity ofpurple ve lvetrequired for the royal robes and the furn iture of the

thron e . What was to b e done ? D ecorum required thatthe furn iture should b e all en suite. Nearer than Genoan o con siderable addition could be expe cted. That wouldim pose a delay ofseveral we eks. Upon m ature considerat ion

,and chiefly of the many private interests that would

suffer am ongst the m ultitudes whom such a solem n ity hadcalled up from the coun try, it was resolved to robe theking in white velve t. But this

,as it afterwards occurred,

was the colour in which victim s were arrayed . A nd thus,itwas alleged

,did the king’s coun cil establish an augury

ofevil . Three other ill om ens,ofsom e celebrity, occurred

By the way, it seem s quite impossible for the stem and un conditionalsceptic upon al l modes of supernatural commun ication to reconcile hisown opinions with the circum stantial report ofHenry’s last hours, asgathered from Sully and others. That he was profoundly sensible of

the danger that brooded over his person, is past all denying; now, whencewas this sense derived ?

0 MOD ERN SUPERST I T I ON .

served atten tively by spectators ofthe m ost opposite fee lings . But the re was another simultan eous om en

,which

affe cted the Prote stan t en thusiasts, and the superstitious,

whether Catholic or Protestan t,still m ore alarm ingly.

The sam e day the king’

s arm s,pom pously pain ted in the

great altar window of a London church, sudden ly felldown without apparen t cause , and broke to pieces, whilstthe rest of the window rem ain ed standing.

” Blenn erhas sett m utters the dark terrors which posse ssed him selfand others “ These

,

”says he

,

“ were reckon ed ill om en s

to the king.

I n Fran ce , as the dreadful crim inality of the Fren chsovere ign s through the seven teen th cen tury began to tellpowerfully, and reproduce itself in the m iseries and tu

mults ofthe Fren ch populace through the e ighte en th century

,it is in tere sting to n ote the om ens which un folded

them se lves at intervals. A volum e m ight b e written uponthem . The Bourbon s ren ewed the picture of that fatalhouse which in Thebe s oflered to the Gre cian observersthe spectacle ofsuccessive auguries

,em erging from dark

n ess through three gen eration s, aplusieurs reprises. Everybody knows the fatal pollution by calam ity of the mar

riege pomps on the reception of Marie An toin ette inParis ; the num bers who perished are still spoken of Oh

scurely as to the am oun t,and with shuddering awe for

the unparalleled horrors standing in the background of

this fatal re ign .

But in the Life ofGoethe is m entioned a still m ore portentous (though more shadowy) om en . I n the pictorial decorations of the arras which adorn ed the pavilion raisedfor the reception of the prin cess on the Fren ch fron tier,the first obje cts which m et the Austrian archduchess, on

being hailed as Dauphiness, was a succession of the m ost

MOD ERN SUPERST IT ION . 341

tragic groups from the m ost awful section of the Greciantheatre . The next allian ce ofthe sam e kind between thesam e great em pires, in the person s ofNapoleon and the

Archduche'

ss Marie Louisa, was ove rshadowed by equally

unhappy om en s (viz., at the ball given in celebration of

that marriage by the Austrian Ambassador), and, as weal l rem em ber, with the sam e unhappy results

,within a

brief period offive years.

Or,if we should resort to the fixed and m onum ental,

rather than to the fleeting auguries ofgreat nation s— such,for instan ce

,as were embodied in those Palladia

,or protect

ing talisman s, which capital cities, whether Pagan or Christian

,glorified through aperiod Of twenty-five hundred years

- we shal l find a long succession ofthese en chan ted pledges,from the earliest preceden t of Troy (whose palladium was

undoubtedly a talisman), down to that equally m em orable

on e,bearing the sam e nam e

,atWe stern Rom e . W e may

pass, by a vast tran sition of two and a- half m illenn ia, to

that great talisman of Constantinople, the triple serpen t

(having perhaps an original reference to the Mosaic serpen t

of the wildern ess, which healed the infected by the sim ple

actof looking upon it). This great consecrated talisman ,venerated equally by Christian , by Pagan, and by Maho

m etan , was struck on the head by Mahom et II., on that

sam e day, May 29 of 1453, in which he mastered bystorm this glorious city, the bulwark ofEastern Christen

dom,and the imm ediate rival ofhis own European thron e

atAdrianople . But mark the superfetation of om en s

Om en superven ing upon om en, augury engrafted upon

augury. The hour was a sad on e for Christian ity; just

720 years b efore the western horn of Islam had been re

butted in Fran ce , not by Fren chm en , b ut chiefly by Ger

mans,under Charles Martel. But now it seem ed as though

342 MOD ERN SUPERsrrrroN .

another horn , even m ore vigorous, was preparing to

assault Christendom from the eastern quarter. At thisepoch

,in the very hour of trium ph, when the last of

the Caesars had glorified his station , and sealed his testim ony by m artyrdom

,the fanatical sultan , riding to

his stirrups in blood, and wielding that iron m acewhich had been his sole weapon , as well as cogn isan ce ,through the battle

,advan ced to the colum n roun d which

the triple serpen t soared spirally upwards . H e sm ote thebrazen talisman ; he shattered one head; he left it m utilated as the re cord of his great revolution ; b ut crush it,destroy it, he did not— as a symbol prefiguring the fortun esofMahom etan ism : his people noticed that in the criticalhour of fate

,which stam ped the sultan ’s acts with efficacy

through ages, he had be en prom pted by his secre t gen iuson ly to “

scotch the snake,

n otto crush it. Afterwardsthe fatal hour was gon e by; and this im perfect augury hass in ce con curred traditionally with the Mahom etan pro

phecies about the Adrianople gate of Con stan tinople, todepress the ultimate hopes ofIslam in the m idst ofall itsinsolen ce . The very haughtiest ofthe Mussulman s believethat the gate is already in existen ce through which thered Giaours (the Russi) shall pass to the conquest ofStamboul; and that everywhere , in Europe at least, the hat ofFrangistan is destin ed to surmount the turban— the cre

scen t to go down before the cross .

NE ILL AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, ED INBURGH.

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