Chapter XI: Preface (10)

V. Adhere to truth; for falsehood is detestable, and he that tells one lie, must tell twenty more to conceal it.

VI. Be strictly honest; for it is shameful to be thought unworthy of trust.

VII. Be modest in your behaviour; it becomes your station, and is pleasing to your superiors.

VIII. Avoid pert answers; for civil language is cheap, and impertinence provoking.

IX. Be clean in your business; for those who are slovens and sluts, are disrespectful servants.

X. Never tell the affairs of the family you belong to; for that is a sort of treachery, and often makes mischief; but keep their secrets, and have none of your own.

XI. Live friendly with your fellow-servants; for the contrary destroys the peace of the house.

XII. Above all things avoid drunkenness; for that is an inlet to vice, the ruin of your character, and the destruction of your constitution.

XIII. Prefer a peaceable life, with moderate gains, to great advantage and irregularity.

XIV. Save your money; for that will be a friend to you in old age. Be not expensive in dress, nor marry too soon.

XV. Be careful of your master’s property; for wastefulness is a sin.

XVI. Never swear; for that is a crime without excuse, as there is no pleasure in it.

XVII. Be always ready to assist a fellow-servant; for good nature gains the love of every one.

XVIII. Never stay when sent on a message; for waiting long is painful to your master, and a quick return shows diligence.

XIX. Rise early; for it is difficult to recover lost time.

XX. The servant that often changes his place, works only to be poor; for “the rolling-stone gathers no moss.”

XXI. Be not fond of increasing your acquaintances; for visiting leads you out of your business, robs your master of your time, and often puts you to an expense you cannot afford. And above all things, take care with whom you are acquainted; for persons are generally the better or the worse for the company they keep.

XXII. When out of place, be careful where you lodge; for living in a disreputable house, puts you upon a footing with those that keep it, however innocent you are yourself.

XXIII. Never go out on your own business, without the knowledge of the family, lest in your absence you should be wanted; for “Leave is light,” and returning punctually at the time you promise, shows obedience, and is a proof of sobriety.

XXIV. If you are dissatisfied with your place, mention your objections modestly to your master or mistress, and give a fair warning, and do not neglect your business nor behave ill, in order to provoke them to turn you away; for this will be a blemish in your character, which you must always have from the last place you served in.

⁂ _All who pay a due regard to the above precepts, will be happy in themselves, will never want friends, and will always meet with the assistance, protection, and encouragement of the wealthy, the worthy, and the wise._

* * * * *

The preceding sentences are contained in a paper which a young person committed to heart on first getting a place, and, having steadily observed, obtained a character for integrity and worth incapable of being shaken. By constantly keeping in view that “Honesty is the best policy,” it led to prosperity, and the faithful servant became an opulent employer of servants.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·70.

~February 22.~

GENERAL ELECTION.

1826. This year may be deemed remarkable in the history of modern times, for its being the period wherein, for the first time within the memory of man, a parliament expired by efflux of time. Most of the preceding parliaments were dissolved, but this attained to its full duration of seven years.

THE FREEMAN’S WELL AT ALNWICK.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,

_Kensington, Feb. 1826_.

I hope the following description of an extraordinary custom which has obtained at Alnwick, in Northumberland, may be considered worthy preservation in _The Every-Day Book_.

About four miles from the above town there is a pond, known by the name of the Freeman’s well; through which it has been customary for the freemen to pass from time immemorial before they can obtain their freedom. This is considered so indispensable, that no exemption is permitted, and without passing this ordeal the freedom would not be conferred. The pond is prepared by proper officers in such a manner, as to give the greatest possible annoyance to the persons who are to pass through it. Great dikes, or mounds, are erected in different parts, so that the candidate for his freedom is at one moment seen at the top of one of them only up to his knees, and the next instant is precipitated into a gulf below, in which he frequently plunges completely over head. The water is purposely rendered so muddy, that it is impossible to see where these dikes are situated, or by any precaution to avoid them. Those aspiring to the honour of the freedom of Alnwick, are dressed in white stockings, white pantaloons, and white caps. After they have “reached the point proposed,” they are suffered to put on their usual clothes, and obliged to join in a procession, and ride for several miles round the boundaries of the freemen’s property--a measure which is not a mere formality for parade, but absolutely indispensable; since, if they omit visiting any part of their property, it is claimed by his grace the duke of Northumberland, whose steward follows the procession, to note if any such omission occurs. The origin of the practice of travelling through the pond is not known. A tradition is current, that king John was once nearly drowned upon the spot where this pond is situated, and saved his life by clinging to a holly tree; and that he determined, in consequence, thenceforth, that before any candidate could obtain the freedom of Alnwick, he should not only wade through this pond, but plant a holly tree at the door of his house on the same day; and this custom is still scrupulously observed. In the month of February, 1824, no less than thirteen individuals went through the above formalities.

I am, &c.

T. A.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·61.

~February 23.~

CHRONOLOGY.

1821. John Keats, the poet, died. Virulent and unmerited attacks upon his literary ability, by an unprincipled and malignant reviewer, injured his rising reputation, overwhelmed his spirits, and he sunk into consumption. In that state he fled for refuge to the climate of Italy, caught cold on the voyage, and perished in Rome, at the early age of 25. Specimens of his talents are in the former volume of this work. One of his last poems was in prospect of departure from his native shores. It is an

_Ode to a Nightingale._

1.

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

2.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

3.

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

4.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

5.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White-hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

6.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
To thy high requiem become a sod.

7.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

8.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--Do I wake or sleep?

This ode was included with “Lamia, Isabella, the Eve of St. Agnes, and other Poems,” by John Keats, published by Messrs. Taylor and Hessey, who, in an advertisement at the beginning of the book, allude to the critical ferocity which hastened the poet’s death.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·57.

~February 24.~

_St. Matthias._--Holiday at the Public Offices.

After the crucifixion, and the death of the traitor Judas, Peter, in the midst of the disciples, they being in number about a hundred and twenty, proposed the election of an apostle in his stead, “and they appointed two, Joseph, called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias: and they prayed” to be directed in their choice, “and they gave forth their lots; and the lot fell upon Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.” (_Acts_ i. 23-26.) Writers disagree as to the particular places of his mission, and the year and manner of his death, though all concur in saying he was martyred. Dr. Cave affirms, that he suffered by the cross. He is presumed to have died A. D. 61 or 64.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·22.

~February 25.~

1826.--_Third Sunday in Lent._

STORM SUPERSTITIONS.

The stilling of the waves by oil is briefly noticed at p. 192, and another instance is subjoined.

_Oil for a fair Wind._

C. W., in Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum, says: “About twelve years ago, during my stay at Malta, I was introduced to the bey of Bengazi, in Africa, who was going with his family and a large retinue of servants to Mecca. He very politely offered me and my companion a passage to Egypt. We embarked on board a French brig which the bey had freighted, and very unfortunately were captured by an English letter of marque within a few leagues of Alexandria. The captain, however, was kind enough to allow us to proceed, and as we lay becalmed for two days, the bey ordered three or four Turkish flags to be hoisted, and a flask of oil to be thrown overboard. On inquiring into the purport of the ceremony, we were informed that the flask _would float to Mecca_ (a pretty long circumnavigation) _and bring us a fair wind!_ As we cast anchor in the port soon after, of course the ceremony had been propitious; nor did we seek to disturb the credulity of a man who had treated us so kindly.”

We know, however, that there is “credulity “on board English as well as Turkish vessels; and that if our sailors do not send an oil flask to Mecca, they _whistle for a wind_ in a perfect calm, and many seem as certainly to expect its appearance, as a boatswain calculates on the appearance of his crew when he pipes all hands.

_Navigation in the Clouds._

Agobard, archbishop of Lyons, in the reign of Charlemagne, and his son, has the following passage in his book, “De Grandine.” “In these districts, almost all persons, noble and plebeian, townsmen and rustics, old and young, believe that hail and thunder may be produced at the will of man, that is, by the incantations of certain men who are called _Tempestarii_.” He proceeds: “We have seen and heard many who are sunk in such folly and stupidity, as to believe and assert, that there is a certain country, which they call _Magonia_, whence ships come in the clouds, for the purpose of carrying back the corn which is beaten off by the hail and storms, and which those aërial sailors purchase of the said Tempestarii.” Agobard afterwards affirms, that he himself saw in a certain assembly four persons, three men and a woman, exhibited bound, as if they had fallen from these ships, who had been kept for some days in confinement, and were now brought out to be stoned in his presence; but that he rescued them from the popular fury. He further says, that there were persons who pretended to be able to protect the inhabitants of a district from tempests, and that for this service they received a payment in corn from the credulous countrymen, which payment was called _canonicum_.[67]

_A Shrovetide Custom._

It will appear on reading, that the annexed letter came too late for insertion under _Shrove Tuesday_.

LUDLOW ROPE PULLING.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book_

_Ludlow, Shrove Tuesday,_

_Feb. 7, 1826._

Sir,

Among the customs peculiar to this town, that of pulling a rope is not the least extraordinary. On Shrove Tuesday the corporation provide a rope three inches in thickness, and in length thirty-six yards, which is given out by a few of the members at one of the windows of the Market-hall at four o’clock; when a large body of the inhabitants, divided into two parties, (the one contending for Castle-street and Broad-street Wards, and the other for Old-street and Corve-street Wards,) commence an arduous struggle; and as soon as either party gains the victory by pulling the rope beyond the prescribed limits, the pulling ceases; which is, however, always renewed by a second, and sometimes by a third contest; the rope being purchased by subscription from the victorious party, and given out again. In the end the rope is sold by the victors, and the money, which generally amounts to two pounds, or guineas, is expended in liquor. I have this day been an eye-witness to this scene of confusion; the rope was first gained by Old-street and Corve-street Wards, and secondly by Castle-street and Broad-street Wards. It is supposed, that nearly 2000 persons were actively employed on this occasion.

Without doubt this singular custom is symbolical of some remarkable event, and a remnant of that ancient language of visible signs, which, says a celebrated writer, “imperfectly supplies the want of letters, to perpetuate the remembrance of public or private transactions.” The sign, in this instance, has survived the remembrance of the occurrence it was designed to represent, and remains a profound mystery. It has been insinuated, that the real occasion of this custom is known to the corporation, but that for some reason or other, they are tenacious of the secret. An obscure tradition attributes this custom to circumstances arising out of the siege of Ludlow by Henry VI, when two parties arose within the town, one supporting the pretensions of the duke of York, and the other wishing to give admittance to the king; one of the bailiffs is said to have headed the latter party. History relates, that in this contest many lives were lost, and that the bailiff, heading his party in an attempt to open Dinham gate, fell a victim there.

R. J.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·16.

[67] Athenæum.

~February 26.~

1826.--_Third Sunday in Lent._

_Penderill Family._

1732, February 26. The title to an estate of 100_l._ per annum, which had been settled on the Penderill family “for preserving king Charles II. in the oak,” was sued for on behalf of an infant claiming to be heir-at-law, and the issue was this day tried in the court of king’s bench. It was proved that Mr. Penderill, after marrying the mother of the claimant, retired into Staffordshire two years before he died; that during that time he had no intercourse with his wife, and that the infant was born about the time of her husband’s death. In consequence of this evidence a verdict was found for the defendant, and thereby the child was declared to be illegitimate.[68]

A respected correspondent, S. G., not remembering to have met with a representation of this remarkable seal in any work, and conceiving its appearance in the _Every-Day Book_ may gratify many readers, obligingly transmits a fine impression, taken in February, 1826, from whence the present engraving has been made with at least as much fidelity as the antiquity of the original permitted. “This seal,” he says, “is quite distinct from the city seal. It is kept at the Mansion-house, in the custody of the gate-porter, and is now used for the purpose of authenticating documents forwarded to foreign countries upon affidavit sworn before the lord mayor: it is also used for sealing the precepts which are issued preparatory to St. Thomas’s-day for the election of common councilmen and ward officers.” The following is the inscription round the seal, “_Sigillum Officii Majoratus Civitatis Londini_:” this legend is indistinct from wear.

The history of this seal is especially remarkable, because it is connected with the origin of the “dagger” in the city arms. On this subject Maitland and other historians have taken so much only from Stow as seemed to them to suit their purpose; what that author relates, therefore, is here extracted verbatim. He introduces it by saying, “In the year 1381, William Walworth, then maior, a most provident, valiant, and learned citizen, did by his arrest of Wat Tyler, (a presumptuous rebell upon whom no man durst lay hands,) deliver the king and kingdome from the danger of most wicked traitors, and was for his service knighted in the field as before hath been related.” In opposition to a notion which prevailed in his time, and prevails at present, that the “dagger” in the civic shield was an augmentation of the city arms upon occasion of Walworth’s prowess in Smithfield, Stow says, “It hath also been, and is now growne to a common opinion, that in reward of this service done by the said William Walworth against the rebell, that king Richard added to the armes of this city (which was argent, a plaine crosse gules) a sword, or dagger, (for so they terme it,) whereof I have read no such record, but to the contrary. I finde that in the fourth yeere of king Richard the second, in a full assembly made in the upper chamber of the Guildhall, summoned by this William Walworth, then maior, as well of aldermen as of the common councell in every ward, for certain affaires concerning the king, it was there by common consent agreed and ordained, that the old seale of the office of the maioralty of the city being very small, old, unapt, and uncomely for the honour of the city, should be broken, and one other new seale bee had; which the said maior commanded to be made artificially, and honourably, for the exercise of the said office therafter, in place of the other. In which new seale, besides the images of Peter and Paul, which of old were rudely engraven, there should be under the feet of the said images a shield of the arms of the said city, perfectly graven, with two lyons supporting the same, and two sergeants of arms: in the other part, one, and two tabernacles, in which, above, should stand two angels, between whom (above the said images of Peter and Paul) should be set the glorious Virgin. This being done, the old seale of the office was delivered to Richard Odiham, chamberlain, who brake it, and in place thereof was delivered the new seale to the said maior, to use in his office of maioralty as occasion should require. This new seale seemeth to be made before William Walworth was knighted, for he is not there intituled Sir, as afterwards he was: and certain it is, that the same new seale then made, is now in use, and none other in that office of the maioralty; which may suffice to answer the former fable, without showing of any evidence sealed with the _old_ seale, which was the crosse, and sword of Saint Paul, and not the dagger of William Walworth.”

On a partial citation of the preceding extract, in Maitland, it is observed by S. G., that “the seal at present in use was made in pursuance of the order above cited, may be deduced from the seal itself. In the centre, within a large and square compartment, are the effigies of Peter and Paul. The former has a mitre or tiara on his head, and is attired in the pall as bishop of the catholic church, and holds a crosier in his left hand. The latter saint is known by his usual attribute, the sword, which he sustains in his right hand: above each of these saints is a rich canopy. Beneath the compartment just described is a shield, bearing the present arms of the city, a cross, with a dagger in the dexter quarter, supported by two lions. It appears to have been surmounted with a low pointed arch. The centre compartment is flanked by two niches, with rich canopies and plinths; in each is a demi-figure bearing a mace, and having on its head a triangular cap; these figures, according to the above description, are intended to represent two sergeants at arms. The canopies to these niches terminate in angular pedestals, sustaining kneeling statues in the act of paying adoration to the Virgin Mary, whose effigy, though much effaced, appears in the centre niche at the top of the seal. From these representations on the seal before us, little doubt can remain that it is the same which has been in use from the time of sir William Walworth to the present day. The canopies and stall work are of the period in which it is supposed to have been made, and are of similar design with those fine specimens which ornamented the late front of Westminster-hall, and the screen to the chapel of Saint Edward the Confessor in the abbey, and which are still to be seen in the restored portion of Westminster-hall, as well as the _plaster_ altar-screen lately set up in the abbey church.”

As Wat Tyler’s insurrection was in 1381, the fourth year of Richard II., and as that was the year wherein the old mayoralty seal was destroyed, and the present seal made, our obliging correspondent, S. G., deems it “a very reasonable opinion, which many authors have entertained on the subject, that the dagger in the city arms was really granted at that period, in commemoration of Walworth having given Tyler the blow with that instrument, which was the prelude to his death.” He says it is also further confirmed by the act of the assembly [the common council], which Maitland quotes [after Stow], inasmuch as one reason which appears to have been urged by them for destroying the old seal was on account of the same, at that time, being unbecoming the honour of the city, which, no doubt, referred to the addition of the dagger, which had then lately been made to the arms: and it likewise goes on further to state, in reference thereto, “that beside the images of Saint Peter and Paul, was placed the shield of the arms of the said city well engraved.”

Our correspondent, S. G., will not conceive offence at a notion which varies from his own opinion; and probably, on reperusing the quotation from Stow and the following remarks, he may see some reason to abate his present persuasion.

As a reason for the old seal, in the fourth year of Richard II., having been ordered by the common council to be broken, Stow says it was “very small, old, unapt, and uncomely for the honour of the city.” His description seems to set forth its diminutive size and age, its “being very small, old,” and “unapt,” as the ground whereon they deemed it “uncomely for the honour of the city,” and therefore caused the old seal to be destroyed, and a new one to be made. So far this appears to have been Stow’s view of the matter; and should his authority be regarded, our friend S. G. may appear to have too hastily assumed that the common council order for the destruction of the old seal, as “unbecoming the honour of the city, no doubt referred to the addition of the dagger which had then lately been made to their arms.” Unless Stow’s testimony be disputed, it may not only be doubted, but positively denied, that the dagger “had then lately been added to the city arms.” Stow speaks of it as a “common opinion,” when he wrote, that upon Walworth’s striking Wat Tyler with his dagger Richard II. therefore “added a sword, or dagger, for so they terme it,” he says, to the city arms; “whereof,” he adds, “I have read no such record, but to the contrary.” Then he takes pains to relate _why_ the ancient seal was destroyed, and having stated the reasons already cited, he says, “this _new_ seale,” the seal now before us, “seemeth to be made _before_ William Walworth was knighted, for he is not there intituled Sir, as he afterwards was.” Afterwards comes Stow’s conclusion upon the whole matter: “Certaine it is,” he says, “that the same new seale then made, is now in use, and none other in that office of the maioralty: which,” mark his words, “which may suffice to answer the former fable, without shewing of any evidence sealed with the _old_ seale, which was the crosse, and sword of St. Paul, and not the dagger of William Walworth.” What Stow here calls the “former fable,” was the “common opinion” stated by himself, “that king Richard added to the arms of this city (which [in the notion of those who entertained the opinion] was argent, a plain cross gules) a sword, or dagger.” That the city arms before the time of Richard II. was merely “argent a plain cross gules,” Stow clearly treats as a vulgar assumption, “whereof,” he says, “I have read no such record, _but_” and these following words are most notable, “BUT _to the contrary_.” This, his declaration “_to the contrary_” being followed by his particulars, just laid before the reader, concerning the present seal, Stow says, “may suffice to answer the former fable, without showing of any evidence sealed with the _old_ seale:” that is, without showing or producing any document or writing “sealed with the old seale, which,” to clench the matter, he positively affirms, “was the crosse, and sword of St. Paul, and not the dagger of William Walworth.”

The cathedral church of the city of London is dedicated to St. Paul, who suffered martyrdom by the sword, and “the old seale,” related by Stow to have been destroyed, he says, “was the crosse, and _sword_ of St. Paul.” It therefore represented the present shield of the city arms, which, on Stow’s showing, existed before the time of Wat Tyler’s insurrection, and are therefore “the crosse, and sword of St. Paul, and not the dagger of William Walworth.”

* * * * *

To the communication with which the liberty of differing has been taken, in furtherance of its object to elucidate the arms of the metropolis, our respected correspondent S. G. adds, “The origin of the seal may no doubt be traced to the source from whence sir Henry Englefield, in his walk through Southampton, derives the seal of the city of Winchester; in speaking of which his opinion appears to be, that it was first used in consequence of an act passed for the benefit of merchants, in the reign of Edward I., which was afterwards greatly extended by the statute of Staples, passed in the 27th year of the reign of Edward III., whereby it was enacted that the commerce of wool, leather, and lead should be carried on at certain towns, called Staple towns, of which several are not seaports--but to each of these inland Staples a port is assigned for entries. It was also further enacted, that in each Staple there should be a _seal_ kept by the mayor of the Staple.”

* * * * *

In relation to this seal, Maitland sadly blunders. He says, “The ancient seal of this city having been laid aside in the fourth of Richard II., the present, whereof the annexed is a representation, was made in the same year, 1381.” Then he annexes his “representation,” purporting to be of this seal, which Stow so accurately describes, but, strange to say, he substitutes the “representation” of a seal wholly different. (See his History of London, edit 1772, vol. ii. p. 1193.) It is astonishing that Maitland should have so erred, for (in vol. i. p. 138.) he describes the seal almost in Stow’s words, and sufficiently at length to have saved him from the palpable mistake.

_Sealing-Wax._

Our present common sealing-wax for letters was not invented till the sixteenth century. The earliest letter in Europe known to have been sealed with it, was written from London, August 3, 1554, to the rheingrave Philip Francis von Daun, by his agent in England, Gerrard Herman. The wax is of a dark red, very shining, and the impression bears the initials of the writer’s name, G. H. The next seal known in the order of time is on a letter written in 1561 to the council of Gorlitz at Breslau: it is sealed in three places with beautiful red wax. There are two letters in 1563 from count Louis of Nassau to the landgrave William IV.; one dated March 3, is sealed with red wax, the other, dated November 7, is sealed with black wax. In 1566 are two letters to the rheingrave Frederick von Daun, from his steward Charles de Pousol, in Picardy, dated respectively September the 2d, and September the 7th; another from Pousol to the rheingrave, dated Paris, January 22, 1567, is sealed with red wax of a higher colour and apparently of a coarser quality. On the 15th of May, 1571, Vulcob, a French nobleman, who the year before had been ambassador from the king of France to the court of Weymar, wrote a letter to that court sealed with red wax; he sealed nine letters of a prior date with common wax. From an old expense book of 1616, in the records of Plessingburg, “Spanish wax,” and other writing materials, were ordered from a manufacturer of sealing-wax at Nuremburg, for the personal use of Christian, margrave of Brandenburg.

It has been conjectured that, as the oldest seals came from England and France, and as the invention is called “Spanish wax,” it originated with the Spaniards; but this is doubted. The first notice of sealing-wax occurs in a work by Garcia ab Orto, or Horto, entitled “Aromatum et simplicium aliquot historia, &c.” first printed in 1563, and afterwards at Antwerp in 1574, 8vo., in which latter edition it is mentioned at p. 33. The oldest printed receipt for sealing-wax is in a work entitled “Neu Titularbuch, &c., Durch Samuelen Zimmerman, burger zu Augspurg 1579,” 4to. p. 112. The following is a

_Translation._

“To make hard sealing-wax, called Spanish wax, with which if letters be sealed they cannot be opened without breaking the seal.--Take beautiful clear resin, the whitest you can procure, and melt it over a slow charcoal fire. When it is properly melted, take it from the fire, and for every pound of resin add two ounces of cinnabar pounded very fine, stirring it about. Then let the whole cool, or pour it into cold water. Thus you will have beautiful _red_ wax.

“If you are desirous of having _black_ wax, add lamp black to it. With smalt, or azure, you may make it _blue_; with white lead, _white_; and with orpiment, _yellow_.

“If instead of resin you melt purified turpentine, in a glass vessel, and give it any colour you choose, you will have a harder kind of sealing-wax, and not so brittle as the former.”

In these receipts there is no mention of gum lac, which is at present the principal ingredient in sealing-wax of the best quality. The name “Spanish wax,” probably imports no more than “Spanish flies,” “Spanish gum,” and several other “Spanish” commodities; for it was formerly the custom to give all new things, particularly those which excited wonder, or excelled in quality, the appellation of “Spanish.”[69]

Dutch sealing-wax, or wax with “brand well en vast houd,” burn well and hold fast, impressed on each stick, was formerly in great repute; but the legend having been constantly forged was no security against imposition. The “best Dutch sealing-wax” usually sold in the shops of London, is often worse than that which inferior manufacturers stamp with the names of many stationers, who prefer a large profit to a good reputation. It is not an easy matter, in 1826, to get a stick of sealing-wax that will “burn well and hold fast.”

_Wafers._

The oldest letter yet found with a red wafer was written in 1624, from D. Krapf, at Spires, to the government at Bayreuth. Wafers are ascribed, by Labat, to Genoese economy. In the whole of the seventeenth century they were only used by private persons; on public seals they commence only in the eighteenth century.[70]

_Writing Ink._

The ancient writing ink was a viscid mass like painter’s colours, and therefore letters in ancient manuscript frequently appear in relief.[71] Pliny’s writing ink is mentioned by Dr. Bancroft, according to whom it consisted of the simple ingredients in the following receipt. “Any person who will take the trouble of mixing pure lamp black with water, thickened a little by gum, may obtain an ink of no despicable quality in other respects, and with the advantage of being much less liable to decay by age, than the ink now in common use.” It should be observed, however, that every black pigment mixed with gum or size can be soon and easily washed out again with water.

* * * * *

It is not purposed to make this a “Receipt Book,” yet, as connected with this subject, two or three really good receipts may be of essential service, at some time or other, to many readers. For instance, artists, and other individuals who require it, may easily manufacture a black pigment in the following manner, with a certainty of its being genuine, which can scarcely be placed in the article sold at most shops.

_A pure Lamp Black._

Suspend over a lamp a funnel of tin plate, having above it a pipe to convey from the apartment the smoke which escapes from the lamp. Large mushrooms of a very black carbonaceous matter, and exceedingly light, will be formed at the summit of the cone. This carbonaceous part is carried to such a state of division as cannot be given to any other matter by grinding it on a piece of porphyry. This black goes a great way in every kind of painting. It may be rendered drier by calcination in close vessels; and it should be observed that the funnel ought to be united to the pipe, which conveys off the smoke, by means of wire, because solder would be melted by the flame of the lamp.[72]

_Receipts for Ink._

Chaptal the eminent chemist, after numerous experiments regarding writing ink, concludes, that the best ingredients and proportions are the following, viz: two parts of galls, in sorts, bruised, and one part of logwood chipped; these are to be boiled in twenty-five times their weight of water for the space of two hours, adding a little water from time to time, according to the evaporation. The decoction so made, he says, will commonly mark from 3 to 3½ degrees upon the hydrometer of Beaumé, equal to about 1022 of the common standard. At the same time a solution of gum arabic is to be made with warm water, until the latter will dissolve no more of the former. This solution will mark 14 or 15 degrees, equal to about 110. A solution of calcined sulphate of iron is also to be made, and concentrated so that it will mark 10 degrees, equal to about 1071. And to this as much sulphate of copper is to be added as will be equal to one-twelfth part of the galls employed to make the decoction. The several matters being so prepared, six measures of the decoction are to be mixed with four measures of the solution of gum; and to this mixture from three to four measures of the metallic solution are to be added, by a little at a time, mixing the several matters each time by shaking. Ink so made, will, he says, form no sediment: and he estimates the proportions of solid matters contained in it to be five hundred parts of gums, four hundred and sixty-two parts of the extract of galls and logwood, and four hundred and eighty-one parts of metallic oxides.

Dr. Bancroft, who gives these particulars from Chaptal, proposes the following, as being generally the most suitable proportions for composing the best and most lasting writing ink, viz:

Take of good Aleppo galls, in sorts, coarsely powdered, twelve ounces, and of chipped logwood six ounces; boil these in five quarts of soft water two hours, and strain off the decoction whilst hot; then put to the residuum as much boiling water as, when properly stirred, strained, and added to the former, will suffice to make the whole of the decoction equal to one gallon; add to this five ounces of sulphate of iron, with the same quantity of gum arabic, and two ounces of good dry muscovado sugar; let these be all dissolved, and well mixed by stirring.

A calcination of the sulphate of iron, which Chaptal, Proust, and some others have recommended, Dr. Bancroft does not regard as of much importance; for, he says, though the ink may be thereby made to attain its _utmost_ degree of darkness, almost immediately, yet the strong disposition which ink has to absorb oxygen from the atmosphere until saturated therewith, will enable it, without such calcination, to attain an equal degree of blackness, in a day or two, according to the temperature of the air, if the latter be allowed free access to it. For reasons which he also states, he omits the sulphate of copper; though he observes that, if any portion of that metal were deemed beneficial, he should prefer verdigrise to the sulphate, the latter containing a much larger proportion of acid than even the sulphate of iron, and being, therefore, more likely to render the ink corrosive. He regards gum as highly useful to retard the separation and subsidence of its black part, or compound of colouring matter and iron, previous to its application to paper, as well as to hinder it, when used, from spreading and penetrating too far.

_Indelible Writing Ink._

M. Chaptal remarks, that, since the oxygenated muriatic acid had been found capable of discharging the colour of common writing ink, both from parchment and paper, without injuring their texture, it had been fraudulently employed to efface particular parts or words of deeds, contracts, or other writings, for which others had been substituted, leaving the signatures untouched. In consequence of these frauds, the commercial parts of society, as well as governments, were solicitous for the discovery of some composition, which might be employed instead of common writing ink, without its defects; therefore Chaptal, (being then minister of the interior of France, and possessed of great chemical science,) as might be expected, occupied himself particularly with that subject; and he states, that up to the then present time, the composition which had been found most useful for this purpose, consisted of a solution of glue in water, with which a sufficient portion of lamp black and a little sea salt were intimately mixed, by rubbing them together on marble. This composition was made sufficiently thin by water, to flow readily from the pen; and he describes it as being capable of resisting the action, not merely of cold, but of boiling water, and also of acids, alkalies, and spirit of wine; and attended with no inconvenience but that of abrasion by being rubbed.

* * * * *

It is observed by Dr. Bancroft, that when lamp black has been incorporated with common ink, by first rubbing the former in a mortar with a mucilage of gum arabic, the writing done with it could not be rendered invisible by the application of muriatic acid; and, doubtless, such an addition of lamp black would hinder the letters from ever becoming illegible by age, at least within any length of time which the paper and parchment could be expected to last. But ink made with this addition would require to be frequently shaken or stirred, as the lamp black would otherwise be apt to separate and subside.

In the making of indelible ink, the receipt for lamp black before given may be of considerable importance.

_Calico Printing._

Perhaps no object has more engaged “the ingenious chemist’s art” than this, and leave is craved to conclude this diversion from the mayoralty seal of London, by what may be serviceable to some who are actively engaged in an extensive branch, from whence our private chambers, and the dresses of our wives and daughters, derive continual improvement.

_Prosubstantive, or Chemical Black, for Calico Printers._

“Some years ago,” says Dr. Bancroft, “I purchased of a calico printer, possessing great knowledge of the principles and practice of his art, the secret of a composition which he had employed with success, as a prosubstantive black, and which, as far as I can judge from experiments upon a small scale, deserved the high commendations which he bestowed upon it: and though I have never obtained the smallest pecuniary advantage from this purchase, in any way, I will here give the full benefit of it to the public. The following was his recipe, with some abbreviations of language: viz. Take two pounds of the best mixed galls, in powder, and boil them in one gallon of vinegar, until their soluble part is extracted, or dissolved; then strain off the clear decoction, and add to the residuum of the galls as much water as will be equal to the vinegar evaporated in boiling; stir them a little, and after allowing the powdered galls time to subside, strain off the clear liquor, and mix it with the former decoction, adding to the mixture six ounces of sulphate of iron; and this being dissolved, put to it six ounces more of sulphate of iron, after it has been previously mixed with, and dissolved by, half of its weight of single aquafortis; let this be stirred, and equally dispersed through the mixture, which is to be thickened by dissolving therein a sufficient quantity of gum tragacanth, (of which a very small proportion will suffice.) Calico, after being printed or pencilled with this mixture, should, when the latter is sufficiently dried, be washed in lime water, to remove the gum and superfluous colour, and then either streamed or well rinsed in clear water. This composition has not been found to weaken, or injure, the texture of calico printed or pencilled with it, and the colour is thought unobjectionable in regard to its blackness and durability.”

* * * * *

It is added by Dr. Bancroft, that “when sulphate of iron is mixed with aquafortis, the latter undergoes a decomposition; the oxygen of the nitric acid combining with the iron, and raising it to a much higher degree of oxidation; the result of these operations is the production of a fluid which has the consistence and smooth appearance of oil, and which (though the name may not be quite unexceptionable) I will call a nitro-sulphate of iron. I have been induced to believe, from several trials, that a better prosubstantive black than any other within my knowledge may be formed, by taking a decoction, containing in each gallon the soluble matter of two pounds of the best galls, in sorts, and when cold, adding to it for each gallon twelve ounces of sulphate of iron, which had been previously mixed with half its weight of single aquafortis, (of which one wine pint should weigh about twenty ounces,) and, by the decomposition just described, converted to the nitro-sulphate of iron just mentioned. By thus employing twelve ounces of sulphate of iron, oxygenated by nitric acid, instead of six ounces of the latter, with six ounces of the green sulphate in its ordinary state, an improvement in the colour seems, by my experiments, to have been invariably produced, and without any corroding or hurtful action upon the fibres of the cotton.”

With these scientific receipts and suggestions it may be agreeable to close. Matters of this kind have not been before introduced, nor is it purposed to repeat them; and those who think they are out of place at present, may be asked to recollect whether any of themselves ever obtained knowledge of any kind that, at some period or other, did not come into use?

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·72.

[68] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[69] Beckmann.

[70] Fosbroke’s Dict. of Antiquities. Beckmann.

[71] Fosbroke’s Dict. of Antiquities.

[72] Tingry.

~February 27.~

CHRONOLOGY.

A Scotch newspaper of the 27th of February, 1753, relates, that on the preceding Wednesday se’nnight, the river Tweed was dried up from six o’clock in the morning to six in the evening, the current having been entirely suspended. On the 20th of February, 1748, the river Sark, near Philipston, in the parish of Kirk Andrews upon Eske, and the Liddel, near Penton, in the same parish, were both dry. At the same time other rivers also lost their waters. These remarkable phenomena are naturally accounted for in the “Gentleman’s Magazine for 1753,” vol. xxiii. p. 156.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·39.

~February 28.~

_Dr. Johnson._

It was recorded in the daily journals, on the 28th of February, 1755, that “the university of Oxford, in full convocation, unanimously conferred the degree of master of arts on the learned Mr. Samuel Johnson, author of the New English Dictionary.” Such a testimony to distinguished merit, from a learned university, was, perhaps, such a reward as Dr. Johnson appreciated more highly than others of more seeming worth; the publicity given to it at the time is evidence of the notoriety he had attained by his literary labours, and of the interest taken in his fame by every class of society. He taught and admonished all ranks, in a style that charmed by its luxuriant amplification of simple truths, when the majority of people refused the wholesome labour of reflection. Johnson’s ethical writings verify the remark of a shrewd writer, that “a maxim is like an ingot of gold, which you may draw out to any length you please.”

_Gin Lane._

The “Historical Chronicle” of the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” notices that on this day, in the year 1736, a proposal was submitted to the house of commons “for laying such a duty on distilled spirituous liquors as might prevent the ill consequences of the poorer sort drinking them to excess,” whereon it takes occasion to adduce the following fact: “We have observed some signs, where such liquors are retailed, with the following inscriptions, _Drunk for a penny, dead drunk for twopence, clean straw for nothing_.” This record establishes the reality of the inscription in Hogarth’s fearful print of “Gin-lane,” and marks a trait in the manners of that period, which, to the credit of the industrious classes of society, has greatly abated.

Drunkenness exists nowhere but in the vicious or the irresolute. “Give a poor man work and you will make him rich.” Give a drunkard work and he will only keep sober till he has earned enough to drink again and get poor. While he is drinking he robs himself of his time; drinking robs him of his understanding and health; when he is unfit or disinclined to work he will lie to avoid it; and if he succeeds in deceiving, he will probably turn thief. Thus a drunkard is not to be relied on either for true speaking, or honest principle; and therefore those who see that drinking leads to falsehood and dishonesty, never attach credit to what a drunkard says, nor trust him within reach of their property.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·44.

Now husbandman and hinds in March prepare,
And order take, against the teeming year,
Survey their lands, and keep a good look out
To get their fields and farms well fenc’d about.
Now careful gard’ners, during sunny days,
Admit to greenhouses the genial rays:
Vines, espaliers, and standard trees demand
The pruner’s skilful eye, and ready hand;
And num’rous shoots and roots court the kind toil
Of transplantation, or another soil.

*

In the “Mirror of the Months” it is observed, that at this season a strange commotion may be seen and heard among the winged creatures, portending momentous matters. The lark is high up in the cold air before daylight, and his chosen mistress is listening to him down among the dank grass, with the dew still upon her unshaken wing. The robin, too, has left off, for a brief season, his low plaintive piping, which it must be confessed was poured forth for his own exclusive satisfaction, and, reckoning on his spruce looks and sparkling eyes, issues his quick peremptory love-call, in a somewhat ungallant and husband-like manner.

The sparrows, who have lately been sulking silently about from tree to tree, with ruffled plumes and drooping wings, now spruce themselves up till they do not look half their former size; and if it were not pairing-time, one might fancy that there was more of war than of love in their noisy squabblings.

Now, also, the ants first begin to show themselves from their subterranean sleeping-rooms; those winged abortions, the bats, perplex the eyes of evening wanderers by their seeming ubiquity; and the owls hold scientific converse with each other at half a mile distance.

Now, quitting the country till next month, we find London all alive, Lent and Lady-day notwithstanding; for the latter is but a day after all; and he must have a very countrified conscience who cannot satisfy it as to the former, by doing penance once or twice at an oratorio, and hearing comic songs sung in a foreign tongue; or, if this does not do, he may fast if he please, every Friday, by eating salt fish in addition to the rest of his fare.

* * * * *