Chapter M: Coquebert De Montbret (2)

In the Jurisprudence of the Romans the deceitful and dangerous experiment of the criminal _quæstion_, as it is emphatically styled, was admitted, rather than approved. The Roman government applied this sanguinary mode of examination only to servile bodies, whose sufferings were seldom weighed by those haughty Republicans in the scale of justice or humanity; but they would never consent to violate the sacred person of a citizen, till they possessed the clearest evidence of his guilt.[29] The annals of tyranny, from the reign of Tiberius to that of Domitian, circumstantially relate the executions of many innocent victims; but as long as the faintest remembrance was kept alive of the national freedom and honour, the last hours of a Roman were secure from the danger of ignominious torture. The conduct of the provincial magistrates was not, however, regulated by the practice of the city, or the strict maxims of the Civilians. They found the use of torture established not only among the slaves of oriental despotism, but among the Macedonians, who obeyed a limited monarch; among the Rhodians, who flourished by the liberty of commerce; and even among the sage Athenians, who had asserted and adorned the dignity of human nature.[30] The acquiescence of the people in the provinces encouraged their governors to acquire or perhaps to usurp, a discretionary power of employing the Rack, to extort from vagrants or plebeian criminals the confession of their guilt, till they insensibly proceeded to confound the distinctions of rank, and to disregard the privileges of Roman citizens. The apprehensions of the subjects urged them to solicit, and the interest of the Sovereign engaged him to grant, a variety of special exemptions, which tacitly allowed, and even authorized, the general use of torture. They protected all persons of illustrious or honourable rank, bishops and their presbyters, professors of the liberal arts, soldiers and their families, municipal officers, and their posterity to the third generation, and all children under the age of puberty. But a fatal maxim was introduced into the new jurisprudence of the Empire, that in the case of treason, which included every offence that the subtlety of lawyers could derive from an _hostile intention_ towards the prince or republic, all privileges were suspended and all conditions were reduced to the same ignominious level. As the safety of the Emperor was avowedly preferred to every consideration of justice or humanity, the dignity of age, and the tenderness of youth were alike exposed to the most cruel tortures; and the terrors of a malicious information, which might select them as the accomplices, or even as the witnesses, perhaps, of an imaginary crime, perpetually hung over the heads of the principal citizens of the Roman world.[31]

Footnote 17:

_Vide_ Serjeant Heywood’s Vindication of Mr. Fox’s History of James
the Second, p. 397.

Footnote 18:

Fuller’s Worthies, p. 317.

Footnote 19:

There is a small book, printed in black letter, containing an account
of the treatment and trial of Anne Askew, which contains many curious
particulars.—She was the daughter of Sir William Askew, of Kelsay, in
the county of Lincoln, where she was born about 1520. She had a
learned education, and while young was married to a person of the name
of Kyme, much against her inclination. On account of some harsh
treatment from her husband, she went to the Court of Henry the Eighth
to sue for a separation, where she was greatly taken notice of by
those ladies who were attached to the Reformation; in consequence of
which, she was arrested, and having confessed her religious
principles, was committed to Newgate. She was first racked with savage
cruelty in the Tower, and then burnt in Smithfield, in 1546, in
company with her tutor, and two other persons of the same faith. From
her letters and other pieces in Fox and Strype, it appears she was an
accomplished, as well as a pious, woman.

Footnote 20:

Burnet’s Reformation, vol. 1. p. 325; vol. 2. p. 382.

Footnote 21:

Collier’s Eccl. Hist. vol. 2. p. 591.—Murden’s State Papers, p. 9,
101.

Footnote 22:

Collier’s Eccl. Hist. vol. 2. p. 139.—Murden’s State Papers, p. 452.

Footnote 23:

Observations on Ancient Statutes, p. 496, _note_.

Footnote 24:

State Trials, vol. 1. p. 199.

Footnote 25:

Observations on Statutes, p. 495.

Footnote 26:

State Trials, vol. 1. p. 221.

Footnote 27:

Observations on Statutes, p. 92.

Footnote 28:

State Trials, vol. 3. p. 99.

Footnote 29:

The Pandects (1. xlviii. tit. xviii.) contain the sentiments of the
most celebrated civilians on the subject of torture. They strictly
confine it to slaves.

Footnote 30:

The Citizens of Athens could not be put to the rack, unless it was for
high treason. The torture was used within thirty days after
condemnation. There was no preparatory torture. In regard to the
Romans, the third and fourth law _de Majestate_, by Julius Cæsar,
shews that birth, dignity, and the military profession exempted people
from the rack, except in cases of high treason.—_Montesquieu’s Spirit
of Laws_, vol. 1. p. 132.

Footnote 31:

Archadius Charisius is the oldest lawyer quoted in the Pandects to
justify the universal practice of torture in all cases of treason; but
this maxim of tyranny, which is admitted by Ammianus with the most
respectful terror, is enforced by several laws of the successors of
Constantine.—_Gibbon’s Rom. Hist._ vol. 3. p. 81.

DR. JOHNSON’S CONVERSATION WITH THE LATE KING.

In February, 1767, there happened one of the most remarkable incidents of Johnson’s life, which gratified his monarchical enthusiasm, and which he loved to relate with all its circumstances, when requested by his friends. This was his being honoured by a private conversation with his late Majesty, in the Library at the Queen’s house. He had frequently visited those splendid rooms, and noble collection of books, which he used to say was more numerous and curious than he supposed any person could have made in the time which the king had employed. Mr. Barnard the Librarian, took care that he should have every accommodation that could contribute to his ease and convenience, while indulging his literary taste in that place, so that he had here a very agreeable resource at leisure hours.

His Majesty having been informed of his occasional visits, was pleased to signify a desire that he should be told when Dr. Johnson came next to the library. Accordingly the next time that Johnson did come, as soon as he was fairly engaged with a book, on which, while he sat by the fire he seemed quite intent, Mr. Barnard stole round to the apartment where the king was, and, in obedience to his Majesty’s commands, mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the library. His Majesty said he was at leisure and would go to him; upon which Mr. Barnard took one of the candles that stood on the king’s table, and lighted his Majesty through a suite of rooms till they came to a private door into the library, of which his Majesty had the key. Being entered, Mr. Barnard stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, who was still in a profound study, and whispered him, “Sir, here is the king.” Johnson started up, and stood still. His Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously easy.

His Majesty began by observing, that he understood he came sometimes to the library; and then mentioned his having heard that the Doctor had been lately at Oxford, asked him if he was not fond of going thither. To which Johnson answered, that he was indeed fond of going to Oxford sometimes, but was likewise glad to come back again. The king then asked him what they were doing at Oxford. Johnson answered he could not much commend their diligence, but that in some respects they were mended, for they had put their press under better regulations, and were at that time printing Polybius. He was then asked whether there were better libraries at Oxford or Cambridge; he answered, he believed the Bodleian was larger than any they had at Cambridge; at the same time adding, “I hope whether we have more books or not than they have at Cambridge, we shall make as good use of them as they do.” Being asked whether All-Souls or Christ Church library was the largest, he answered, “All-Souls library is the largest we have except the Bodleian.” “Aye, (said the king) that is the public library.”

His Majesty enquired if he was then writing any thing, he answered, he was not, for he had pretty well told the world what he knew, and must now read to acquire more knowledge. The king as it should seem with a view to urge him to rely on his own stores as an original writer, and to continue his labours, then said, “I do not think you borrow much from any body.” Johnson said he thought he had already done his part as a writer. “I should have thought so too,” said the king, “if you had not written so well.”—Johnson observed to me, says Boswell, that “No man could have paid a handsomer compliment; and it was fit for a king to pay. It was decisive.” When asked by another friend at Sir Joshua Reynolds’s, whether he made any reply to this high compliment, he answered, “No, Sir. When the king had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy civilities with my Sovereign.” Perhaps no man who had spent his whole life in courts could have shewn a more nice and dignified sense of true politeness than Johnson did in this instance.

“His Majesty having observed to him, that he supposed he must have read a great deal, Johnson answered, that he thought more than he read; that he had read a great deal in the early part of his life, but having fallen into ill health, he had not been able to read much compared with others; for instance he said he had not read much, compared with Dr. Warburton. Upon which the king said, that he heard Dr. Warburton was a man of such general knowledge, that you could scarce talk with him on any subject on which he was not qualified to speak, and that his learning resembled Garrick’s acting in its universality. The king observed that Pope made Warburton a bishop; ‘True, Sir,’ said Johnson, ‘but Warburton did more for Pope, he made him a Christian;’ alluding no doubt, to his ingenious comments on the ‘Essay on Man.’ His Majesty then talked of the controversy between Warburton and Lowth, which he seemed to have read, and asked Johnson what he thought of it. Johnson answered, ‘Warburton has most general, most scholastic learning; Lowth is the more correct scholar. I do not know which of them calls names best.’ The king was pleased to say he was of the same opinion; adding, ‘You do not think then, Dr. Johnson, that there was much argument in the case.’ Johnson said he did not think there was. ‘Why, truly,’ said the king, ‘when once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty well at an end.’“

His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord Lyttelton’s history, which was just then published. Johnson said, he thought his style pretty good, but that he had blamed Henry the Second rather too much. “Why, said the king, they seldom do these things by halves.” “No, Sir, answered Johnson, not to kings.” But fearing to be misunderstood, he proceeded to explain himself, and immediately subjoined, “That for those who spoke worse of kings than they deserved, he could find no excuse; but that he could more easily conceive how some might speak better of them than they deserved, without any ill intention; for, as kings had much in their power to give, those who were favoured by them would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their praises; and as this proceeded from a good motive, it was certainty excusable, as far as error could be excusable.”

The king then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill. Johnson answered, that he was an ingenious man, but had no veracity; and immediately mentioned, as an instance of it, an assertion of that writer, that he had seen objects magnified to a much greater degree by using three or four microscopes at a time than by using one. “Now,” added Johnson, “every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the more of them he looks through, the less the object will appear.” “Why,” replied the king, “this is not only telling an untruth, but telling it clumsily; for, if that be the case, every one who can look through a microscope will be able to detect him.”

I now, (said Johnson to his friends, when relating what had passed) began to consider that I was depreciating this man in the estimation of his Sovereign, and thought it was time for me to say something that might be more favourable. He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was, notwithstanding, a very curious observer; and if he would have been contented to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been a very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse to such mean expedients to raise his reputation.

The king then talked of Literary Journals, mentioned particularly the _Journal des Savans_, and asked Johnson if it was well done. Johnson said it was formerly very well done, and gave some account of the persons who began it, and carried it on for some years; enlarging at the same time, on the nature and use of such works. The king asked him if it was well done now. Johnson answered, he had no reason to think that it was. The king then asked him if there were any other Literary Journals published in this kingdom, except the Monthly and Critical Reviews; and on being answered there were no other, his Majesty asked which of them was the best; Johnson answered, that the Monthly Review was done with most care, the Critical upon the best principles; adding that the authors of the Monthly Review were enemies to the church. This the king said he was sorry to hear.

The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Transactions, when Johnson observed that they had now a better method of arranging their materials than formerly. “Aye, said the king, they are obliged to Dr. Johnson for that”; for his Majesty had heard and remembered the circumstance, which Johnson himself had forgot.

His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biography of this country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. Johnson to undertake it. Johnson signified his readiness to comply with his Majesty’s wishes.

During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked to his Majesty with profound respect, but still in his firm manly manner, with a sonorous voice, and never in that subdued tone which is commonly used at the levee and in the drawing-room. After the king withdrew, Johnson shewed himself highly pleased with his Majesty’s conversation, and gracious behaviour. He said to Mr. Barnard, “Sir, they may talk of the king as they will; but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen.” And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, “Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman as we may suppose Lewis the fourteenth, or Charles the second.”

DR. BEATTIE’S CONVERSATION WITH THE LATE KING AND QUEEN.

Dr. Beattie had been informed by Dr. Majendie, who lived at Kew, and was often at the palace, that the king having asked some questions of the doctor respecting him, and being told that he sometimes visited Dr. Majendie there, his Majesty had desired to be informed the next time Dr. Beattie was to be at Kew. What his Majesty’s intentions were, Dr. Majendie said he did not know; but supposed the king intended to admit him to a private audience. A day was therefore fixed, on which Dr. Beattie was to be at Dr. Majendie’s house early in the morning, of which the Doctor was to give notice to his Majesty. Of this interesting event, so honourable to Dr. Beattie, I shall transcribe in his own words, says Sir William Forbes, the account he has given in his diary:—

“Tuesday, 24th August, (1773) set out for Dr. Majendie’s at Kew Green. The Doctor told me that he had not seen the king yesterday, but had left a note in writing, to intimate, that I was to be at his house to-day; and that one of the king’s pages had come to him this morning, to say, ‘that his Majesty would see me a little after twelve.’ At twelve, the Doctor and I went to the king’s house at Kew. We had been only a few minutes in the hall, when the king and queen came in from an airing; and as they passed through the hall, the king called to me by name, and asked how long it was since I came from town? I answered about an hour. ‘I shall see you,’ says he, ‘in a little.’ The Doctor and I waited a considerable time, for the king was busy, and then we were called into a large room, furnished as a library, where the king was walking about, and the queen sitting in a chair. We were received in the most gracious manner possible, by both their Majesties. I had the honour of a conversation with them, nobody else being present but Dr. Majendie, for upwards of an hour on a great variety of topics; in which both the king and queen joined, with a degree of cheerfulness, affability, and ease, that was to me surprising, and soon dissipated the embarrassment which I felt at the beginning of the conference. They both complimented me in the highest terms on my ‘Essay,’ which they said was a book they always kept by them; and the king said he had one copy of it at Kew, and another in town, and immediately went and took it down from a shelf. I found it was the second edition. ‘I never stole a book, but one,’ said his Majesty, ‘and that was your’s (speaking to me) I stole it from the queen, to give it to Lord Hertford to read.’ He had heard that the sale of Hume’s ‘Essays’ had failed, since my book was published; and I told him what Mr. Strahan had told me, in regard to that matter. He had even heard of my being in Edinburgh last summer, and how Mr. Hume was offended on the score of my book. He asked many questions about the second part of the ‘Essay,’ and when it would be ready for the press. I gave him, in a short speech, an account of the plan of it; and said my health was so precarious, I could not tell when it might be ready, as I had many books to consult before I could finish it; but, that if my health were good, I thought I might bring it to a conclusion in two or three years. He asked how long I had been in composing my Essay? praised the caution with which it was written; and said he did not wonder that it had employed me five or six years. He asked, about my Poems. I said there was only one poem of my own, on which I set any value (meaning the ‘Minstrel’) and that it was first published about the same time with the ‘Essay.’ My other poems, I said were incorrect, being but juvenile pieces, and of little consequence, even in my own opinion. We had much conversation on moral subjects; from which both their Majesties let it appear, that they were warm friends to Christianity; and so little inclined to infidelity, that they could hardly believe that any thinking man could really be an Atheist, unless he could bring himself to believe, that he made himself; a thought which pleased the king exceedingly; and he repeated it several times to the queen. He asked whether any thing had been written against me. I spoke of the late pamphlet, of which I gave an account, telling him, that I had never met with any man who had read it, except one quaker. This brought on some discourse about the quakers, whose moderation, and mild behaviour the king and queen commended. I was asked many questions about the Scots Universities: the revenues of the Scots Clergy; their mode of praying and preaching; the medical college of Edinburgh; Dr. Gregory, of whom I gave a particular character, and Dr. Cullen; the length of our vacation at Aberdeen, and the closeness of our attendance during the winter; the number of students that attend my lectures; my mode of lecturing, whether from notes, or completely written lectures; about Mr. Hume, and Dr. Robertson, and Lord Kinnoul, and the Archbishop of York, &c. &c.

His Majesty asked what I thought of my new acquaintance, Lord Dartmouth? I said there was something in his air and manner, which I thought not only agreeable, but enchanting, and that he seemed to me to be one of the best of men; a sentiment in which both their Majesties heartily joined. “They say that Lord Dartmouth is an enthusiast,” said the king, “but surely he says nothing on the subject of religion, but what every Christian may, and ought to say.” He asked whether I did not think the English language on the decline at present; I answered in the affirmative; and the king agreed, and named the “Spectator” as one of the best standards of the language. When I told him that the Scots clergy sometimes prayed a quarter, or even half an hour at a time, he asked, whether that did not lead them into repetitions? I said it often did. “That” said he, “I don’t like in prayers; and excellent as our liturgy is, I think it somewhat faulty in that respect.” “Your Majesty knows,” said I, “that three services are joined in one, in the ordinary church service, which is one cause of those repetitions.” “True,” he replied, “and that circumstance also makes the service too long.” From this he took occasion to speak of the composition of the church liturgy; on which he very justly bestowed the highest commendation. “Observe,” his Majesty said, “how flat those occasional prayers are, that are now composed, in comparison with the old ones.” When I mentioned the smallness of the church livings in Scotland, he said, “he wondered how men of liberal education would chuse to become clergymen there,” and asked, “whether in the remote parts of the country, the clergy, in general were not very ignorant?” I answered, no, for that education was very cheap in Scotland, and that the clergy, in general, were men of good sense, and competent learning. He asked whether we had any good preachers at Aberdeen? I said, yes, and named Campbell and Gerard, with whose names, however, I did not find that he was acquainted. Dr. Majendie mentioned Dr. Oswald’s “Appeal,” with commendation; I praised it too and the queen took down the name, with a view to send for it. I was asked, whether I knew Dr. Oswald? I answered, I did not; and said that my book was published before I read his; that Dr. Oswald was well known to Lord Kinnoul, who had often proposed to make us acquainted. We discussed a great many other topics; for the conversation, as before observed, lasted for upwards of an hour, without any intermission. The queen bore a large share in it. Both the king and her Majesty showed a great deal of good sense, acuteness, and knowledge, as well as of good nature and affability. At last, the king took out his watch (for it was now almost three o’clock, his hour of dinner) which Dr. Majendie and I took as a signal to withdraw. We accordingly bowed to their Majesties, and I addressed the king in these words: “I hope, Sir, your Majesty will pardon me, if I take this opportunity to return you my humble and most grateful acknowledgments for the honour you have been pleased to confer upon me.” He immediately answered, “I think I could do no less for a man, who has done so much service to the cause of Christianity. I shall always be glad of an opportunity to show the good opinion I have of you.” The queen sate all the while, and the king stood, sometimes walking about a little. Her Majesty speaks the English language with surprising elegance, and little or nothing of a foreign accent. There is something wonderfully captivating in her manner; so that if she were only of the rank of a private gentlewoman, one could not help taking notice of her as one of the most agreeable women in the world. Her face is much more pleasing than any of her pictures; and in the expression of her eyes, and in her smile, there is something peculiarly engaging.

When the Doctor and I came out, “Pray,” said I, “how did I behave? Tell me honestly, for I am not accustomed to conversations of this kind.” “Why perfectly well,” answered he, “and just as you ought to do.”—“Are you sure of that?” said I.—“As sure,” he replied, “as of my own existence; and you may be assured of it too, when I tell you, that if there had been any thing in your manner or conversation, which was not perfectly agreeable, your conference would have been at an end in eight or ten minutes at most.” The Doctor afterwards told me that it was a most uncommon thing for a private man, and a commoner, to be honoured with so long an audience. I dined with Dr. and Mrs. Majendie and their family, and returned to town in the evening, very much pleased with the occurrences of the day.

SACRED GARDENS.

The origin of sacred gardens among the heathen nations may be traced up to the garden of Eden. The gardens of the Hesperides, of Adonis, of Flora, were famous among the Greeks and Romans. “The garden of Flora,” says Mr. Spence, (Polymetis, p. 251) “I take to have been the Paradise in the Roman Mythology. The traditions and traces of Paradise among the ancients must be expected to have grown fainter and fainter in every transfusion from one people to another. The Romans probably derived their notions of it from the Greeks, among whom this idea seems to have been shadowed out under the stories of the gardens of Alcinous. In Africa they had the gardens of the Hesperides, and in the East those of Adonis, or the _Horti Adonis_, as Pliny calls them. The term _Horti Adonides_ was used by the ancients to signify _gardens of pleasure_, which answers to the very name of Paradise, or the garden of Eden, as _Horti Adonis_ does to the _garden of the LORD_.”

SIR THOMAS WYAT.
[DIED 1541.]

The story of this eminent person, probably one of the principal ornaments of an age unable to discern his merits, or unwilling to record them, has been very imperfectly related. He was born at Allington Castle, in Kent, the ancient seat of his family, in 1503, and was the son of Sir Henry Wyat. He may be said to have finished his education in the society of that eminent character Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, with whom he travelled abroad, and with whom he “tasted in Italy,” says Wood, “the sweet and stately measures of the Italian poesy.” These, as far as the rude state of our language, and the still ruder taste of the times, would allow, he applied to English verse. His poems were printed at London in 1565, and have since been frequently republished, in conjunction with those of his noble friend; but here, as in other points of view, we have but glimpses of him; for through the ignorance or carelessness of the original editor, his pieces are so confusedly blended with the Earl’s, that not many of them can be positively ascertained.[32]

Having been introduced at Court, where his endowments both of body and mind, recommended him to the favour of king Henry the Eighth, he was employed in several foreign embassies, which he discharged with great ability. His influence with the king was proverbial. Lloyd tells us that “when a man was newly preferred, they said he had been in Sir Thomas Wyat’s closet.”

We are informed by Wood (_Athen. Oxon._) that Sir Thomas was sent by the king to Falmouth, for the purpose of conducting a Spanish Minister from thence to London. Being desirous of making great expedition, he fatigued himself so much that he was thrown into a fever, and was obliged to stop at Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, where he died a few days after, in the 38th year of his age, “to the great reluctancy,” says Wood, “of the king, kingdom, his friends, and all that knew the great worth and virtues of the person.” He was buried in Sherborne Church.[33]

He left behind him a son of the same name, who lost his head for exciting a rebellion in the reign of queen Mary, from whom our poet is commonly distinguished by the appellation of Sir Thomas Wyat the elder.

Footnote 32:

There is an engraving of Sir Thomas in the collection of Holbein
Heads, published by Mr. Chamberlaine.

An original picture of him, which has been frequently copied, is in
the collection of the Earl of Romney. It is nearly a profile, and
bears a strong resemblance to Holbein’s drawing.

There is a print of Sir Thomas Wyat, from an engraving on wood, after
a painting by Holbein; it is the frontispiece to the book of verses,
written on his death, by Leland, entitled “Næniæ in Mortem Thomæ Viati
Equitis incomparabilis,” an Elegy on the death of Sir Thomas Wyat,
Knt. London, 1542, _quarto_. This book was reprinted by Hearne, at the
beginning of the second volume of Leland’s Itinerary. Under the head
is the following inscription:—

“Holbenus nitida pingendi maximus arte,
”Effigiem expressit graphice, sed nullus Apelles
“Exprimet ingenium felix, animumque Viati.”

This print has been copied by Michael Burghers and Mr. Tyson.
_Granger_ i. 110.

Footnote 33:

The first printed Poetical Miscellany, in the English language, is the
Collection of Poems, edited and published by Tottel, entitled “Songes
and Sonnettes of Surrey, Wyat, and of uncertain Auctors, London,
1557.”—Another edition, 1565—others in 1574, 1585, 1587. The last
edition was edited by Dr. George Sewell, in 1717.—This Dr. Sewell was
a physician in London; he received his early education at Eton, which
he afterwards completed at Cambridge, where he took the degree of
Bachelor of Physic in 1709. From thence he went to Leyden, where he
studied under the celebrated Boerhaave. Not being successful in the
metropolis, he removed to Hampstead, where he died on the 8th of
February, 1726. As an author he possessed a considerable share of
genius, and wrote in concert with several of his contemporaries,
particularly in the Spectator and Tatler; he was principally concerned
in the ninth volume of the former, and in the fifth of the latter, as
he was also in a translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and an edition
of Shakespeare’s Poems. He was the author of a Tragedy, entitled “Sir
Walter Raleigh,” published at London in 1719, and also of another,
which he left unfinished, entitled “King Richard the First,” the
fragments of which were printed in 1728.

THE HAND A SYMBOL OF POWER.

In Parkhurst’s Hebrew Lexicon we have the following remarks on the Hand as an emblem of strength and power. “The hand was used by the Jews, as a trophy or monument of victory, and placed on the top of a pillar. Thus Saul, after smiting the Amalekites, in the pride of his heart erected to or for himself (not for Jehovah) a hand, 1 Samuel xv. 12. And David smote Hadadezer, king of Zobah, when he was going to erect his hand or trophy, by the river Euphrates, 2 Sam. viii. 3, and 1 Chronicles, xviii. 3.—And this appears to be the most ancient use of these memorial hands; whence Absalom seems to have taken the hint of erecting one, merely to keep his name in remembrance, 2 Sam. xviii. 18, where it may be observed that this monument is expressly called not only a _hand_, but _a pillar_, which shews that the hand was wont to be put on a pillar.

“Neibuhr (Voyage in Arabia, tom. 2. p. 211. French edition) speaking of Ali’s mosque at Mesched Ali, says, that ‘at the top of the dome’ where one generally sees on the Turkish mosques a crescent, or only a pole, there is here _a hand stretched out_, to represent that of Ali.” And another writer informs us, that at the Alhambra, or red palace of the Moorish kings in Granada, “on the key-stone of the outward arch [of the present principal entrance] is sculptured the figure of an _arm_, the symbol of strength and dominion.”

“It may not be amiss to observe, that to this day in the East Indies the picture of a _hand_ is the emblem of power or authority. Thus I am assured, says Parkhurst, by a gentleman of undoubted veracity, who resided many years on the coast of Coromandel, that when the Nabob of Arcot, who in his time was governor of _five provinces_, appeared on public occasions, several small flags, with each _a hand_ painted upon them, and one of a large size with _five hands_, were solemnly carried before him.”

The hand was used as an ensign of royalty by the kings of France and England. In Sandford’s Genealogical History, there is the following note on the counter-seal of king Edward the third: “In the margin of this counter-seal, near the point of the king’s sword, is represented the _hand of justice_, being an ensign of royalty peculiar only to the kings of France, for though they in common with other princes carry in their right hand a sceptre of gold, yet in the other they bear the _hand of justice_, being a short rod, and having on the top of it a _left hand_, wide open, made of ivory, on account of the elephant being the only quadruped observable for his devotion, love of his governors, and for his equity. The left hand it is said, is preferred to the right for this purpose, because not being employed in working so many wicked actions as the right, it became more proper than the other to represent the symbol of justice. This hand is also placed in the counter-seals of his successors Richard the second, and Henry the fourth; king Henry the fifth omitted it in his seal, and conquering France both placed that crown on the head, and the French sceptre and _hand of justice_ in the hands of his son, king Henry the sixth.”

Queen Elizabeth used the hand as one of her mint marks.

HENRIETTA MARIA,
QUEEN OF CHARLES THE FIRST.

“Our royal martyr,” says Dr. Kennet, “by taking a consort from the Bourbon family, did apparently bring over some evils and mischiefs that disturbed his whole reign. For within less than one year, the French servants of that queen grew so imperious and insolent, that the king was forced to discharge them, and to humble them by a return into their own country.”

“A very sad doom it was certainly to the French,” says L’Estrange in his annals of king Charles, “but as the animadversion was extremely severe, so their offences were in like degree heinous. The bishop of Mende, the queen’s almoner, stood charged for putting intolerable scorn upon, and making religion itself do penance, by enjoining her Majesty, under the notion of penance, to go barefoot, to spin, and to wait upon her family servants at their ordinary repasts, to walk on foot in the mire on a rainy morning, from Somerset House to St. James’s; her confessor, mean while, like Lucifer himself, riding by her in his coach; but, which is worst of all, to make a progress to Tyburn, there to present her devotions for the departed souls of the Papists, who had been executed at that place, on account of the Gunpowder Treason, and other enormous crimes. A most impious piaculary, whereof the king said acutely, that the action can have no greater invective than the relation. The other sex were accused of crimes of another nature, whereof Madam St. George was, as in dignity of office, so in guilt, the principal; culpable she was in many particulars, but her most notorious and unpardonable fault was, her being an accursed instrument of some unkindness between the king and queen. These incendiaries were cashiered, the queen, who formerly shewed so much waspish protervity, soon fell into a mode of loving compliance. But though this renvoy of her Majesty’s servants, imported domestic peace, yet was it attended with an ill aspect from France, though our king, studying to preserve fair correspondence with his brother, sent the Lord Carleton with instructions to represent a true account of the action, with all the motives to it; but his reception was very coarse, being never admitted to audience. Louis despatched Monsieur the Marshal de Bassompierre, as Extraordinary Ambassador to our king, to demand the restitution of the queen’s domesticks: which he at last obtained for most of them.”

“It was this match,” adds Dr. Kennet, “that began to corrupt our nation with French modes and vanities; which gave occasion to Mr. Prynne to write that severe invective, called Histriomastix, against stage plays; to betray our councils to the French court; to weaken the poor Protestants in France, by rendering ineffectual the relief of Rochelle; nay, and to lessen our own trade and navigation. These ill effects, beyond the king’s intention, raised such a jealousy, and spread such a damp upon the English subjects, that it was unhappily turned into one of the unjust occasions of civil war, which indeed began more out of hatred to that party, than out of any disaffection to the king. The people thought themselves too much under French counsels, and a French ministry, or else, they could never have been drawn aside into that great rebellion. This interest when suspected to prevail, brought the king into urgent difficulties; and in the midst of them the aid and assistance, which that interest offered him, did but the more effectually weaken him. On this side the water the French services betrayed him; and on the other side, the French policies were at work to betray him.”

And, indeed, as queen Henrietta had a mighty, if not a supreme sway over King Charles’s councils, so did her mother, Mary de Medicis, who came over by her invitation, administer great cause of jealousy to this nation. “The people,” says L’Estrange, “were generally malecontent at her coming, and wished her farther off. For they did not like her train and followers, which had often been observed to be the sword of pestilence, so that she was beheld as some meteor of evil signification. Nor was one of these calamities thought more the effect of her fortune than inclination; for her restless and unconstant spirit was prone to embroil all wheresoever she came. And besides, as queen Henrietta was extraordinary active in raising money among the Roman Catholics of this kingdom, to enable King Charles to make war against his subjects of Scotland, so was she extreme busy in fomenting the unhappy differences between his Majesty and his English Parliament.”

Sir John Reresby, in his Memoirs, asserts that queen Henrietta Maria was married after the king’s death to Lord St. Alban’s. “The abbess of an English college in Paris, whither the queen used to retire, would tell me,” says Sir John, “that Lord Jermyn, since St. Alban’s, had the queen greatly in awe of him, and indeed it was obvious that he had great interest with her concerns; but that he was married to her, or _had children by her, as some have reported_, I did not then believe, _though the thing was certainly so_.”

Madame Baviere, in her letters, says, “Charles the First’s widow made a clandestine marriage, with her _Chevalier d’ Honneur_, Lord St. Alban’s, who treated her extremely ill, so that whilst she had not a faggot to warm herself, he had in his apartment a good fire, and a sumptuous table. He never gave the queen a kind word, and when she spoke to him, he used to say, _Que me veut cette femme?_”

To what a miserable state the queen was reduced may be seen in the following extract from De Retz’s Memoirs, (vol. 1. p. 261.) “Four or five days before the king removed from Paris, I went to visit the queen of England, whom I found in her daughter’s chamber, who hath been since Duchess of Orleans. At my coming in she said, ‘You see I am come to keep Henrietta company. The poor child could not rise to-day for want of a fire.’ The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not ordered her any money towards her pension; that no trades-people would trust her for any thing; and that there was not at her lodgings in the Louvre one single billet. You will do me the justice to suppose that the princess of England did not keep her bed the next day for want of a faggot; but it was not this which the Princess of Conde meant in her letter. What she spoke about was, that some days after my visiting the queen of England, I remembered the condition I had found her in, and had strongly represented the shame of abandoning her in that manner, which caused the Parliament to send 40,000 livres to her Majesty. Posterity will hardly believe that a Princess of England, grand-daughter of Henry the Great, hath wanted a faggot in the month of January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a French court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less monstrous than this; and the little concern I have met with about it in most people’s minds, has obliged me to make, I believe, a thousand times this reflection—that examples of times past move men beyond comparison more than those of their own times. We accustom ourselves to what we see; and I have sometimes told you, that I doubted whether Caligula’s horse being made a consul would have surprized us so much as we imagine.”

As for the relative situations of the king (Charles II.) and Lord Jermyn, (afterwards St. Alban’s) Lord Clarendon (Hist. of the Rebellion, vol. 3. p. 2) says that the “Marquis of Ormond was compelled to put himself in prison, with other gentlemen, at a pistole a week for his diet, and to walk the streets a-foot, which was no honourable custom in Paris, whilst the Lord Jermyn kept an excellent table for those who courted him, and had a coach of his own, and all other accommodations incident to the most full fortune; and if the king had the most urgent occasion for the use but of twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of.”

The Lord St. Alban’s above mentioned was Henry Jermyn, second son of Thomas Jermyn, of Rushbrooke, near Bury St. Edmund’s, in Suffolk. In 1644 he was created Lord Jermyn, with limitation of the honour to the heirs male of his elder brother Thomas. In 1660 he was further advanced to the dignity of Earl of St. Alban’s, and Baron of St. Edmund’s Bury, but on his death in 1683, the earldom became extinct. The barony of Jermyn devolved on Thomas (son of his elder brother Thomas) who became second Lord Jermyn: he died unmarried in 1703.—Lord St. Alban’s was master of the horse to Queen Henrietta Maria, and one of the privy council to Charles the second. In July 1660 he was sent ambassador to the court of France, and in 1671 was made Lord Chamberlain of his majesty’s household.—“He was a man of no great genius,” says Grammont, “he raised himself a considerable fortune from nothing, and by losing at play, and keeping a great table, made it appear greater than it was.” “It is well known what a table the good man kept at Paris, while the king his master was starving at Brussels, and the queen dowager his mistress, lived not over well in France.”

This earl lived in London at _Jermyn house_, which stood at the head of St. Alban’s-street, Pallmall, which street and Jermyn-street had their names from him.

LAST MOMENTS OF PHILIP MELANCTHON.[34]

The nineteenth of April, 1560, was the last day of the mortal existence of this great reformer and pious christian. After the usual medical inquiries of the morning, he adverted to the calamitous state of the church of Christ, but intimated his hope that the genuine doctrine of the gospel would ultimately prevail, exclaiming, “If GOD be for us who can be against us.” After this he presented fervent supplications to heaven for the welfare of the church, and in the intervals of sleep conversed principally upon this subject with several of his visiting friends.

Soon after eight in the morning awaking from a tranquil sleep, he distinctly, though with a feeble voice, repeated a form of prayer which he had written for his own daily use. An interval of repose having elapsed after repeating this prayer, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and turning to his son-in-law, he said, “I have been in the power of death, but the LORD has graciously delivered me.” This was supposed to refer to some deep conflicts of mind, as he repeated the expression to others. When one of the persons who visited him said, “There is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus,” he soon added, “Christ is made to us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.” “Let him that glorieth glory in the LORD.”

The coldness of death was now creeping over him, but his mental faculties continued unimpaired to the very last breath of mortal existence. Having expressed a wish to hear some passages from the Old and New Testaments, his ministerial attendants read the 24th, 25th and 26th Psalms: the 53d chapter of Isaiah; the 7th chapter of John, the 5th of the Romans, and many other passages. The saying of John respecting the son of God, he said was perpetually in his mind, “the world knew him not ... but as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of GOD, even to them that believe on his name.”

Upon being asked by his son-in-law if he would have any thing else, he replied in these emphatic Words, “NOTHING ELSE—BUT HEAVEN!” and requested that he might not be any further interrupted. Soon afterwards he made a similar request, begging those around him, who were endeavouring with officious kindness to adjust his clothes, “not to disturb his delightful repose.” After some time his friends united with the Minister present in solemn prayer, and several passages of scripture, in which he was known always to have expressed peculiar pleasure were read, such as “Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe in GOD, believe also in me.”—“In my Father’s house are many mansions.”—“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me;” particularly the fifth chapter of Romans, and the triumphant close of the eighth chapter, commencing “If GOD be for us, who can be against us?” Many other parts of scripture were recited, and the last word he uttered was the German particle of affirmation, _Ia_, in reply to one of his friends, who had inquired if he understood him while reading. The last motion which his friends who surrounded him to the number of at least twenty, could discern, was a slight motion of the countenance which was peculiar to him when deeply affected with religious joy!—“Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace!”

At length, “in the midst of solemn vows and supplications,” at a quarter before seven, in the evening, at the age of sixty-three, he gently breathed his last. No distractions of mind, no foreboding terrors of conscience agitated this attractive scene. His chamber was “privileged beyond the common walks of virtuous life—quite in the verge of heaven”—and he expired, like a wave scarcely undulating to the evening zephyr of an unclouded summer sky. It was a “DEPARTURE”—a “SLEEP”—“the earthly house of this tabernacle was dissolved.”

Footnote 34:

Melancthon was born at Brette, a village of the Palatinate, on the
16th of February, 1497. In his childhood he made an astonishing
progress in the acquisition of languages. Luther, and his doctrines,
appeared about this time, and Melancthon stood forward as one of their
most strenuous supporters; indeed the Lutheran system was in a great
measure planned by him, and the famous instrument by which it was
publicly declared, called the Confession of Augsburg, was the
production of his pen. Melancthon was the intimate friend of Erasmus,
and Erasmus the patron of Holbein. This connection will account for
his appearance in a Collection of Portraits, drawn by Holbein, of the
principal personages in the Court of Henry the Eighth, though
Melancthon never was in this country. An engraving of him is among the
Holbein Heads, published by Mr. Chamberlaine, and there is a
full-length portrait of this great Reformer, with a fac-simile of his
writing, in his Life, published by the Rev. F. A. Cox, London, 1815,
8vo.

HOUSE OF COMMONS.

A considerable number of treatises were written in the middle and latter end of the seventeenth century, and a few in the beginning of the eighteenth, respecting the period at which the House of Commons asserted that independence which it is so material to the security and happiness of the country it should possess, and obtained that share in the legislature it now enjoys; but the writers on both sides,[35] eager in the maintenance of the cause they espoused, and taking advantage of the scanty means the public had of knowing what was contained in the early Rolls of Parliament[36] and other ancient records, suppressed from partiality and interested zeal, much of the information themselves possessed, which rendered of little use to the public an inquiry that might otherwise have been attended with considerable advantage.

It might be supposed indeed, that when men so remarkable for diligence and learning, as Prynne and Petyt, (who were both keepers of the records in the Tower, among which are most of the Rolls of Parliament, and all the Claus Rolls) took opposite sides of the controversy, about the time when the Commons first formed a part of the legislature, whatever could have made for or against either side of the question would have been produced. And yet with all their opportunities and their eagerness for research, those who have attentively looked through the Rolls of Parliament, will find amongst them much matter of importance respecting the questions those writers discussed at different periods, to which neither of them referred, either in support of his own, or in contradiction to his opponent’s argument. Rymer was equally zealous in supporting the side he took, in the beginning of the last century. Any thing therefore having been brought to light by the publication of the Rolls of Parliament, which appears to have escaped the industry and research of such men, is a strong proof of the utility of printing those valuable documents.

As early as the 46th of Edward the third, a statute was made, ordaining that all persons should be entitled to search for, and have exemplifications of records, as well such as proved contrary to the interest of the king, as such as were favourable to it.

Great and eminent men, however, not more distinguished by their high stations, than for their talents and research, stated opinions, some on points of magnitude, in the pursuit of mere legal investigations, different from those which are probably entertained by such as have carefully perused the Parliamentary Records, which were printed during the reign of his late Majesty.

In corroboration of this assertion, it may be sufficient to mention two opinions of Lord Coke’s.

The first that the Lords and Commons sat together late in the reign of king Edward the third[37] and until the Commons had a perpetual Speaker. The direct contrary of this opinion it is thought is evident from the Rolls of Parliament. It does not appear from any Records that the two Houses ever sat for deliberation in the same assembly, from the time the Commons were regularly summoned in their representative capacity to Parliament.

On the contrary, so early as the 18th of Edward the first,[38] (Rolls of Par. vol. 1. p. 25, a. the earliest Roll extant) there is a Grant[39] to the king for the marriage of his eldest daughter, by several Peers named, “et cæteri Magnates et Proceres tunc in Parliamento existentes, pro se et Communitate totius Regni Angliæ quantum in ipsis est;” that is, “and other Lords and Nobles for themselves and the Community of the whole kingdom of England, as much as they were able.” In the 19th of Edward the second (p. 351. a.) there is a grant to the king for carrying on the war with Scotland, by the Citizens, Burgesses, and Knights for counties, of a fifteenth of the moveables of the Citizens, Burgesses, and men of the counties, cities, and towns.