Читать книгу: «Notes and Queries, Number 210, November 5, 1853», страница 2
DR. PARR ON MILTON
Amongst my autographs I find the inclosed letter frown Dr. Parr. It is written upon a half-sheet of paper, and in a very cramp and illegible hand. To whom it is addressed, or when written, I am unable to say. As it relates to the opinions held by Milton, perhaps you may think it worth insertion in your work, particularly as Milton has been the subject of some papers in "N. & Q." lately.
W. M. F.
Copy of Letter from Dr. Parr, without date or address
Dear Sir,
I send you Johnson's Life of Milton. My former feelings again return upon me, that Johnson did not mean to affirm that Milton prayed not upon any occasion or in any manner; but that he was engaged in no visible worship; that he prayed at no stated time; that he had not what we may call any regular return of family or private devotion. Pray read the sequel. That he lived without prayer can hardly be affirmed, this surely is decided in my favour: it may wear the appearance of contradiction to the former passage, that omitting public prayer he omitted all; in truth, the expression just quoted is too peremptory and too general. But the sense of Johnson cannot be mistaken, if you attend to the different views he had in each sentence; and I repeat my former assertion, that Johnson did not think Milton destitute of a devout spirit, or totally negligent of prayer in some form or other.
Yours, very truly and respectfully,J. Parr.
PARTS OF MSS
As an instance of the unfortunate dispersion of the parts of valuable MSS. through different countries, occasioned probably, in the case now to be mentioned, by public convulsions and the wild fury of revolutionary mobs in France, will you afford me space to quote an interesting description of a MS. from the catalogue of a library to be sold at Paris in December next? The MSS. and printed books in this library belonged to the eminent bookseller J. J. De Bure, whose ancestor was the distinguished and well-known bibliographer Guillaume de Bure. The publicity given to descriptions like the present through the medium of "N. & Q." may ultimately lead, on some occasions, to the scattered volumes being brought together again, either by way of purchase, or in exchange for other works.
John Macray.
Oxford.
"Catalogue des Livres rares et précieux, manuscrits et imprimés, de la Bibliothèque de feu M. J. J. De Bure, ancien libraire du Roi et de la Bibliothèque Royale, etc.
"No. 1395. Le Second Livre des Commentaires de la Guerre Gallèque, par Caius Julius Cæsar, traduict en françois. In-8, mar. noir, avec des fermoirs en argent.
"Manuscrit sur vélin.
"L'ouvrage ne porte pas de titre; on lit seulement sur le plat du volume, Tomus Secundus, et au verso du 21 feuillet; c'y commence le Second livre des Commentaires de la Guerre Gallèque.
"Ce manuscrit a été fait pour François Ier; le chiffre de ce Prince se trouve au premier feuillet. Le Vol. se compose de 94 feuillets de texte, et de 4 feuillets de table. L'Ecriture est très-belle, et paraît être de l'un des meilleurs calligraphes de l'époque de Francois Ier; beaucoup de mots sont en or et en azur.
"On remarque 22 miniatures, 15 médaillons d'Empereurs et d'autres personnages Romains, 12 figures d'engins ou machines de guerre, et 2 fleurons; en tout 58 peintures.
"Ce n'est point, à proprement parler, une traduction des Commentaires. L'auteur suppose, dans le préambule de cette partie de l'ouvrage, que Francis Ier au Commencement du Moys d'Auguste, l'an 1519, allant courir le cerf en la fourest de Byevre, y fait la rencontre de César.
"De là, il établit un dialogue entre les deux personnages. François Ier s'enquiert des circonstances de la guerre des Gaules, et César lui en donne les détails tels qu'ils out été écrits par lui-même.
"On ne présente malheureusement ici qu'un Tome ii. Le Tome i. est au Musée Britannique: on le trouve indiqué sous le No. 6205. dans le Catalogue of the Harleian MSS. in the British Museum, London, 1808, Tome iii. in folio. Ce Tome i. est décrit dans l'ouvrage de M. Waagen, Kunstwerke and Künstler in England und Paris, Berlin, 1837, Tome i. p. 148.
"Le Tome iii. était à vendre dans ces dernières années, au prix de 3000 francs, chez M. Techener (Bulletin du Bibliophile, année 1850, No. 1222. et p. 910.); nous ne savons où il est actuellement.
"Notre volume est le plus précieux des trois. Il l'emporte sur les deux autres par le nombre des peintures (le Tome i. n'en a que 14, et le Tome iii. seulement 12) et par l'intérêt qu'offrent ces peintures elles-mêmes.
"La première, charmante miniature en camaïeu gris et or, représente François Ier à cheval, courant le cerf; la dernière montre la prise du cerf.
"Parmi les autres sujets, également traités en grisaille, on remarque plusieurs batailles entre les Romains et les Gaulois, rendues dans leurs divers détails avec une finesse admirable d'exécution. Mais ce qui, par-dessus tout, donne un prix infini à ce manuscrit, ce sont sept portraits, en médaillons, qui reproduisent les traits de quelques hommes de guerre du temps de François Ier. Ils sont peints avec une vérité et une délicatesse vraiment merveilleuses; des noms Romains, qui figurent dans les Commentaries de César, sont écrits à côté des portraits; les noms véritables ont été tracées au-dessous, mais un peu plus tard, et par une main différente. Voici ces noms:—
"1o. Quintus Pedius, le grand-maistre de Boisy, âgé de 41 ans; 2o. le Fiable Divitiacus d'Autun, l'Amiral de Boisy, Seigneur de Bonivet, âgé de 34 ans; 3o. Quintus Titurius Sabinus, Odet de Fones (Foix), Sieur de Lautrec, âgé de 41 ans; 4o. Iccius, le Mareschal de Chabanes, Seigneur de la Palice, âgé de 57 ans; 5o. Lucius Arunculeius Cotta, Anne de Montmorency, âgé de 22 ans, et depuis Connestable de France; 6o. Publ. Sextius Baculus, le Mareschal de Fleuranges, Seigneur de la Marche (Mark), premier Seigneur de Sédan, âgé de 24 ans; 7o. Publius Crassus, le Sieur de Tournon, qui fust tué à la bataille de Pavie, âgé de 36 ans.
"La plupart des miniatures du volume sont signées G., 1519. La perfection qui les distingue les avait d'abord fait attribuer au célèbre miniaturiste Guilo Clovio; maintenant on croit pouvoir affirmer qu'elles appartiennent à un peintre nommé Godefroy. Il se trouve à la bibliothèque de l'Arsenal une traduction française des Triomphes de Pétrarque, avec des miniatures qui sont incontestablement de la même main et de la même époque. Or, l'une de ces miniatures est signée Godefroy.
"On peut voir le rapprochement que fait entre les deux manuscrits M. Waagen, dans l'ouvrage cité ci-dessus, Tome iii. p. 395. Il ne saurait, du reste, y avoir aucun doute sur le nom de l'artiste, lorsqu'on lit dans le Bulletin du Bibliophile (pages déjà citées) que plusieurs des miniatures du Tome iii. sont signées Godofredi pictoris, 1520.
"Ce précieux manuscrit ne sera pas vendu; il a été légué par M. de Bure au département des Manuscrits de la Bibliothèque Impériale."
WILLIAM BLAKE
(Continued from p. 71.)
I venture to send you another Note regarding William Blake, claiming for that humble individual the honour of being the pioneer in the establishment of charity-schools in Britain, from which department of our social system who can calculate the benefits accrued, and constantly accruing, to this country!
We look in vain through the Silver Drops of William Blake for any record of an existing institution, such as he would have his "noble ladies" rear at Highgate. Among the many incentives he uses to prompt the charitable, we do not find him holding up for their example any model (unless it be "Old Sutton's brave hospital"); in all his amusing "Charity-school Sticks," his tone is that of a man trying to persuade people that the thing he proposes is feasible. "Some of them," says the sanguine Blake, "have scarce faith enough to believe in the success of this great and good design. Nay, your brother Cornish himself," continues he, in addressing one of his ladies, although full of good works, "would have persuaded me to lay it down" upon the ground of its impracticability. The language of Blake is everywhere advocating this "new way of charity." "If it be new," says he to an objector, "the more's the pity;" and, with reference to the possibility of failure, he would thus shame them into liberality. Speaking of his "fine, handsome, and well cloathed boys; not too fine, because they are the ladies'!" our enthusiast adds to this soft sawdur:
"But now, if a year or two hence they should be grown, which God forbid! poor ragged, half-starved, and no cloaths, country folks would say, who ride or go that way, Were there not good ladies enough in and about London to maintain one little school?"
Here then is primâ facie evidence, I think, that my subject, poor crazy William Blake, was the originator of one of the greatest social improvements of modern times.
The charity-school movement had obtained a strong hold upon the public mind early in the past century; but although I have sought for the name of Blake through many books professing to give an account of the early history of such institutions, I have not yet met with the slightest allusion to him, his school, or his Silver Drops.
The superficial inquirer into the history of English charity-schools will be told that the honour of the first erecting such, and caring for destitute children, is popularly considered due to the parishes of St. Botulph, Aldgate, and St. Margaret's, Westminster: and if he would farther satisfy himself upon that point, he will see it claimed by the first named; a slab in front of their schools, adjoining the Royal Mint, bearing an inscription to the purport that it was the first Protestant charity-school, erected by voluntary contributions in 1693.
If it comes to the earliest London school for poor children, perhaps the Catholics take the lead; for we find that it was part of the tactics of the Jesuits, in the reign of James II., to promote their design of subverting the Protestant religion by infusing their Romish tenets into the minds of the children of the poor by providing schools for them in the Savoy and Westminster.
Blake says, with reference to this movement:
"That the scheme he was engaged upon was a good work, because it will in some measure stop the mouths of Papists, who are prone to say, Where are your works, and how few are your hospitals, and how small is your charity, notwithstanding your great preaching?"
A remarkable little book, and a very fit companion for the Silver Drops of William Blake, to which it bears a striking similarity, is the Pietas Hallensis of Dr. Franck. In this, the German divine relates, in a style which bears more than an accidental resemblance to the work of the Covent Garden Philanthropist, how, little by little, by importunity and perseverance, he nursed his own charitable plans, of a like kind, into full life and vigour; and both Drs. Woodward and Kennett endorse and command the "miraculous footsteps of Divine Providence" in the labours of Dr. Franck. "Could we," says Dr. Kennett, "trace the obscurer footsteps of our own charity-schools, the finger of God would be as evidently in them." Why the Bishop of Peterborough should be ignorant of these earlier efforts to the same end in his own country, is somewhat marvellous. Franck began his charitable work at Glaucha in 1698; while Blake was labouring to establish his Highgate School in 1685. That Franck should know nothing about our pioneer in charitable education, is probable enough; but that the English divines I have mentioned, with Wodrow, Gillies, and a host of others, should be unaware that the proceedings at Halle were only the counterpart of those done fourteen years before by Blake in their own land, is certainly surprising, and affords another proof of the proneness of Britons to extol everything foreign to the neglect of what is native and at their own doors.
Perhaps some of your readers will think I over-estimate the importance of the question, whether the charity-school movement is of British or foreign growth; or whether the honour of its application to the poor (for all charity-schools are not for such) belongs to my subject William Blake, or some other philanthropic individual; if such there be, let them repair to our Metropolitan Cathedral on the day of the annual assemblage of the London charity children: and if, on contemplating the spectacle which will there meet their eye, they do not think it an object of interest to discover who, as Dr. Kennett says, "first cast in the salt at the fountain-head to heal the waters, and broke the ground that was before barren," I pity them.
In concocting this Note, I have had before me the following:
1. Lysons's Environs of London, 1795, where will be found a short notice of Blake. The author, following Gough, makes my subject a madman, and says his scheme "failed after laying out 5000l. upon it."
2. Sermon preached for Charity-schools, by Dr. Kennett, 1706.
3. Sermons of Dr. Smalridge and T. Yulden, 1710 and 1728. These divines give the precedence to Westminster School, "erected 1688."
4. Wodrow's Letters, edited by Dr. McCrie, 3 vols., Edin. 1843.
5. Pietas Hallensis: or an Abstract of the Marvellous Footsteps of Divine Providence, in the building of a very large Hospital, or rather a Spacious College, for Charitable and Excellent Uses; and in the maintaining of many Orphans, and other Poor People therein at Glaucha, near Halle in Prussia, related by the Rev. A. H. Franck, 3 parts, 12mo., London, 1707-16. Let the curious reader compare this with Blake's book.
J. O.
FOLK LORE
Legends of the County Clare.—About nine miles westward from the town of Ennis, in the midst of some of the wildest scenery in Ireland, lies the small but very beautiful Lake of Inchiquin, famous throughout the neighbouring country for its red trout, and for being in winter the haunt of almost all the various kinds of waterfowl, including the wild swan, that are to be found in Ireland, while the woods that border one of its sides are amply stocked with woodcocks. At one extremity of the lake are the ruins of the Castle of Inchiquin, part of which is built on a rock projecting into the lake, there about one hundred feet deep, and this legend is related of the old castle:—Once upon a time, the chieftain of the Quins, whose stronghold it was, found in one of the caves (many of which are in the limestone hills that surround the lake) a lady of great beauty, fast asleep. While gazing on her in rapt admiration she awoke, and, according to the customs of the Heroic Age, soon consented to become his bride, merely stipulating that no one bearing the name of O'Brien should be allowed to enter the castle gate: this being agreed to, the wedding was celebrated with all due pomp, and in process of time one lovely boy blessed their union. Among the other rejoicings at the birth of an heir to the chief of the clan, a grand hunting-match took place, and the chase having terminated near the castle, the chieftain, as in duty bound, requested the assembled nobles to partake of his hospitality. To this a ready assent was given, and the chiefs were ushered into the great hall with all becoming state; and then for the first time did their host discover that one bearing the forbidden name was among them The banquet was served, and now the absence of the lady of the castle alone delayed the onslaught on the good things spread before them. Surprised and half afraid at her absence, her husband sought her chamber: on entering, he saw her sitting pensively with her child at the window which overlooked the lake; raising her head as he approached, he saw she was weeping, and as he advanced towards her with words of apology for having broken his promise, she sprang through the window with her child into the lake. The wretched man rushed forward with a cry of horror: for one moment he saw her gliding over the waters, now fearfully disturbed, chanting a wild dirge, and then, with a mingled look of grief and reproach, she disappeared for ever! And the castle and the lordship, with many a broad acre besides, passed from the Quins, and are now the property of the O'Briens to this day; and while the rest of the castle is little better than a heap of ruins, the fatal window still remains nearly as perfect as when the lady sprang through it, an irrefragable proof of the truth of the legend in the eyes of the peasantry.
Francis Robert Davies.
The Seven Whisperers.—I have been informed by an old and trustworthy servant that about twenty years ago, as he was walking one clear starlight night with two other persons, they heard, for the space of several minutes, high up in the air, beautiful sounds like music, which gradually died away towards the north. He spoke of it as an occurrence not very uncommon, and said it was always called "The Seven Whisperers." On inquiry I found the name well known amongst the poorer classes.
Is it not an electrical phenomenon?
Metaouo.
Essex.
ITALIAN-ENGLISH, GERMAN-ENGLISH, AND THE REFUGEE STYLE
(Vol. vii., p. 149.)
Every one has admired the odd bits of Italian-English which "N. & Q." lately published, a true philological curiosity. Such queer medleys have been the result whenever two opposite idioms have been thrown together and unskilfully stirred up. Very few foreigners indeed, Sclavonic nations being excepted, and particularly the Russians, write French tolerably well. The present Lord Mahon and Lady Montaigne, in an excellent Essay on Marriage, are exceptions to the rule. Voltaire used to say,—
"Faites tous vos vers à Paris;
Et n'allez pas en Allemagne!"
And very right he was. His kingly disciple committed more than once such Irish rhymes as these:
"Je vais cueillir dans leurs sentiers (des Muses)
De fraîches et charmantes roses;
Et je dédaigne les lauriers,
En exceptant les lauriers sauces."
Forgetting the difference of pronunciation between the soft s of rose (roze) and the lisping sound of the c in sauce (sôss). As I have not by me the ponderous and voluminous works of the poetical monarch, I may have altered some of the words of the quotation; but the rhymes sauce and rose I aver to be true to the primitive copy. Even Protestant refugees, born of French parents, brought up amongst their co-religionists and countrymen, wrote a strange gibberish, often ungrammatical, always unidiomatic, of which traces may be found even in Basnage and Ancillon. A recent French theologian, the clever author of a Life of Spinosa, written in Germany and published in Paris with some success, has such expressions as these:
"Les villes protestantes preferent la liberté avec Calvin QUE la tyrannique concorde avec Luther."—Hist. Crit. du Rationalisme, p. 49.
"Et ailleuz: Stuttgard Dontil etait conservateur DE LA Bibliothèque."-Ib.
And M. Amand Saintes is a Frenchman, and a most erudite man. The Celebrated Frau Bettina von Arnim, who dared to translate into English and to print in Berlin (apud Trowitzsch and Son, 1838), under the new title of Diary of a Child, her own untranslateable letters to Göthe, had at least the very good excuse of her nationality for her peculiar English, the choicest, funniest, maddest, and saddest English ever penned on this planet or in any other, and of which I hope "N. & Q." will accept some small specimens, taken at random among thousands such. To begin with the opening address:
"To the English Bards
"Gentlemen!—The noble cup of your mellifluous tongue so often brimmed with immortality, here filled with odd but pure and fiery draught, do not refuse to taste if you relish its spirit to be homefelt, though not home-born."
"Bettina Arnim."
We will next pass to the "Preamble":
"The translating of Göthe's Correspondence with a Child into English was generally disapproved of. Previous to its publication in Germany, the well-renowned Mrs. Austin, by regard for the great German poet, proposed to translate it; but after having perused it with attention, the literate and the most famed bookseller of London thought unadvisable the publication of a book that in every way widely differed from the spirit and feelings of the English, and therefore it could not be depended upon for exciting their interest. Mrs. Austin, by her gracious mind to comply with my wishes, proposed to publish some fragments of it, but as no musician ever likes to have only those passages of his composition executed that blandish the ear, I likewise refused my assent to the maiming of a work, that not by my own merit, but by chance and nature became a work of art, that only in the untouched development of its genius might judiciously be enjoyed and appraised."
Our next and last is taken from p. 133.:
"From those venturesome and spirit-night-wanderings I came home with garments wet with melted snow; they believed I had been in the garden. When night I forgot all; on the next evening at the same time it came back to my mind, and the fear too I had suffered; I could not conceive, how I had ventured to walk alone on that desolate road in the night, and to stay on such a waste dreadful spot; I stood leaning at the court gate; to-day it was not so mild and still as yesterday; the gales rose high and roared along; they sighed up at my feet and hastened on yonder side, the fluttering poplars in the garden bowed and flung off their snow-burden, the clouds drove away in a great hurry, what rooted fast wavered yonder, and what could ever be loosened, was swept away by the hastening breezes." (!!!).
P. S.—Excuse my French-English.
Philarète Chasles, Mazarianæus
Paris, Palais de l'Institut.
