Skip to content

Chapter III: Part 3

Text size

In a letter to Count Zinzendorf--the founder of the community of Moravian Brethren at Herrnhut, in Upper Lusatia--who visited England about 1745, Whitfield thus describes and rebukes some of the extravagant flummeries then practised by the Moravians: "Pray, my Lord, what instances have we of the first Christians walking round the graves of their deceased friends on Easter day, attended with hautboys, trumpets, French horns, violins, and other kinds of musical instruments? Or where have we the least mention made of pictures of particular persons being brought into the Christian assemblies, and of candles being placed behind them in order to give a transparent view of the figures? Where was it ever known that the picture of the Apostle Paul, representing him handing a gentleman and lady up to the side of Jesus Christ, was ever introduced into the primitive love-feasts?... Again, my Lord, I beg leave to inquire whether we hear anything in Scripture of eldresses or deaconesses of the apostolical churches seating themselves before a table covered with artificial flowers, and against that a little altar surrounded with wax tapers, on which stood a cross, composed either of mock or real diamonds, or other glittering stones? And yet your Lordship must be sensible this was done in Fetter Lane Chapel, for Mrs. Hannah Nitschman, the present general eldress of your congregation; with this addition, that all the sisters were seated, clothed in white, and with German caps; the organ also illuminated with three pyramids of wax tapers, each of which was tied with a red ribbon; and over the head of the general eldress was placed her own picture, and over that (_horresco referens_) the picture of the Son of God. A goodly sight this, my Lord, for a company of English Protestants to behold!... A like scene to this was exhibited by the single brethren in a room of their house at Hatton Garden. The floor was covered with sand and moss, and in the middle of it was paved a star of different-coloured pebbles; upon that was placed a gilded dove, which spouted water out of its mouth into a vessel prepared for its reception, which was curiously decked with artificial leaves and flags; the room was hung with moss and shell; the Count, his son, and son-in-law, in honour of whom all this was done, with Mrs. Hannah Nitschman, and Mr. Peter Boehlen, and some other labourers, were also present. These were seated under an alcove, supported by columns made of pasteboard, and over their heads was painted an oval in imitation of marble, containing cyphers of Count Zinzendorf's family. Upon a side-table was a little altar covered with shells, and on each side of the altar was a bloody heart, out of, or near which, proceeded flames. The room was illuminated with wax tapers, and musicians played in an adjoining apartment, while the company performed their devotions, and regaled themselves with sweetmeats, coffee, tea, and wine." Mr. Whitfield also mentions a "singular expedient" made use of to raise the drooping spirits of one Mr. Bell, who had been induced to join the Brethren. On his birthday, he was sent for by Mr. Peter Boehlen, one of the bishops, and "was introduced into a hall, where was placed an artificial mountain, which, upon singing a particular verse, was made to fall down, and then behind it was discovered an illumination, representing Jesus Christ and Mr. Bell sitting very near, or embracing each other; and out of the clouds was also represented plenty of money falling round Mr. Bell and the Saviour." Towards the close of his career, Count Zinzendorf applied himself, and not without success, to undo a good deal of the extravagant and unseemly work of former years, both in his devotional hymns and forms.

AN AWKWARD ASSOCIATION.

In his _Jest-book_, Mr. Lemon tells the following capital story of awkward association:--"In a cause tried in the Court of Queen's Bench, the plaintiff being a widow, and the defendants two medical men who had treated her for delirium tremens, and put her under restraint as a lunatic, witnesses were called on the part of the plaintiff to prove that she was not addicted to drinking. The last witness called by Mr. Montagu Chambers, the leading counsel, on the part of the plaintiff, was Dr. Tunstal, who closed his evidence by describing a case of delirium tremens treated by him, in which the patient recovered in a single night. 'It was,' said the witness, 'a case of gradual drinking, sipping all day, from morning till night.' These words were scarcely uttered, than Mr. Chambers, turning to the Bench, said, 'My Lord, that is my case.'"

TURNING-POINT IN PALEY'S CAREER.

When Paley first went to Cambridge, he fell into a society of young men far richer than himself, to whom his talents and conviviality made him an acceptable companion, and he was in a fair way for ruin. One morning one of these comrades came into his bedroom before he was up, and he, as usual, thought it was to propose some plan of pleasure for the day. His friend, however, said, "Paley, I have not slept a wink this night for thinking of you. I am, as you know, heir to such and such a fortune, and whether I ever look in a book at Cambridge does not signify a farthing. But this is not the case with you. You have only your abilities to look to; and no man has better, if you do but make the proper use of them. But if you go on in this way, you are ruined; and from this time forward I am determined not to associate with you, for your own sake. You know I like your company, and it is a great sacrifice to give it up; but give it up I will, as a matter of conscience." Paley lay in bed the whole day, ruminating upon this. In the evening he rose and took his tea, ordered his bed-maker to make his fire overnight, and call him at five in the morning; and from that day forward he rose always at that hour. He went out first wrangler, and became the fortunate man he was. This story was told to Southey in 1808, by Mr. Brome, who had it from an intimate friend of Paley.

THE DANGERS OF TOO GOOD COMPANY.

George I. liked to temper the cares of royalty with the pleasures of private life, and commonly invited six or eight friends to pass the evening with him. His Majesty seeing Dr. Lockier one day at court, desired the Duchess of Ancaster, who was almost always of the party, to ask the Doctor to come that evening. When the company met in the evening, Dr. Lockier was not there; and the King inquired of the Duchess if she had invited him. "Yes," she said; "but the Doctor presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and hopes your Majesty will have the goodness to excuse him at present; he is soliciting some preferment from your Majesty's Ministers, and fears it may be some obstacle to him, if it should be known that he had the honour of keeping such good company." The King laughed very heartily, and said he believed he was in the right. Not many weeks after, Dr. Lockier kissed the King's hand as Dean of Peterborough; and as he was rising from kneeling, the King inclined forwards, and with great good-humour whispered in his ear, "Well, now, Doctor, you will not be afraid to come in an evening; I would have you come this evening;" an invitation which was very readily accepted.

ANECDOTES OF ABERNETHY.

John Abernethy, the pupil and friend of John Hunter, was remarkable for eccentricity and _brusquerie_ in his dealings with patients. But there are many instances to show that his roughness was only external, and that a very soft and gentle heart beat in his bosom. He was sometimes successfully combated with his own weapons. A lady on one occasion entered his consulting-room, and showed him an injured finger, without saying a word. In silence Abernethy dressed the wound; silently the lady put the usual fee on the table, and retired. In a few days she came again, and offered the finger for inspection. "Better?" asked the surgeon. "Better," answered the lady, speaking for the first time. Not another word followed during the interview. Three or four visits were made, in the last of which the patient held out her finger perfectly healed. "Well?" was Abernethy's inquiry. "Well," was the lady's answer. "Upon my soul, madam," exclaimed the delighted surgeon, "_you are the most rational woman I ever met with_!" "I had heard of your rudeness before I came, Sir," another and less fortunate lady said, taking his prescription; "but I was not prepared for such treatment. What am I to do with this?" "Anything you like," the surgeon roughly answered. "Put it on the fire if you please." Taking him at his word, the lady put her fee on the table, and the prescription on the fire, and, making a bow, left the room. Abernethy followed her, apologizing, and begging her to take back the fee or let him write another prescription; but the lady would not relent. When the bubble schemes were flourishing in 1825, Mr. Abernethy met some friends who had risked large sums of money in one of those speculations; they informed him that they were going to partake of a most sumptuous dinner, the expenses of which would be defrayed by the company. "If I am not very much deceived," replied he, "you will have nothing but bubble and squeak in a short time."

BLOMFIELD'S REBUKE TO NON-RESIDENT RECTORS.

Dr. Blomfield, Bishop of London, had occasion to call the attention of the Essex incumbents to the necessity of residing in their parishes; and he reminded them that curates were, after all, of the same flesh and blood as rectors, and that the residence which was possible for the one, could not be quite impossible for the other. "Besides," added he, "there are two well-known preservatives against ague: the one is, a good deal of care and a little port wine; the other, a little care and a good deal of port wine. I prefer the former; but if any of the clergy prefer the latter, it is at all events a remedy which incumbents can afford better than curates."

DEVOTION OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

In a parish close to Dublin, it is on record that a Catholic priest was called on to administer the solemn rites of his religion to a family in the last stage of typhus fever. The family, six or seven in number, were found lying in a wretched hovel, on a little straw scattered on the damp earthen floor. The agonies of death were fast coming upon them. The confession of each one of them had to be heard. Lest any should overhear the confession of another, the priest stretched himself on the straw, while the miserable sufferer breathed his or her confession into his ear. Thus, inhaling the poison of their respiration, and separating them from each other successively, at the risk of his own life, he completed his sacred functions.

PULPIT JOKES OF DANIEL BURGESS.

Daniel Burgess, the noted Nonconformist minister, was by no means of Puritan strictness, for he was the most facetious person of his day, and carried his wit so far as to retail it from the pulpit with more levity than decency. Speaking of Job's "robe of righteousness," he once said, "If any of you would have a suit for a twelvemonth, let him repair to Monmouth Street; if for his lifetime, let him apply to the Court of Chancery; but if for all eternity, let him put on the robe of righteousness." The sermons of Burgess were adapted to the prejudices as well as the opinions of his hearers--wit and Whiggism went hand in hand with Scripture. He was strongly attached to the House of Brunswick, and would not uphold the Pretender's cause from the pulpit. He once preached a sermon, about that time, on the reason why the Jews were called Jacobites, in which he said, "God ever hated Jacobites, and therefore Jacob's sons were not so called, but Israelites!"

PHYSICIANS AND THEIR FEES.

Perhaps regarding nothing connected with the science and practice of medicine, or the lives of its professors, are there more stories told, more curious facts on record, more interesting exhibitions of character and touching displays of generosity to relate, than about the giving and taking--or not taking--of fees. In stringing together some memoranda and anecdotes on this head, it needs only to be said that they are but a few out of a crowd. At the outset, it may be explained that from very early times the fee of the physician (like that of the advocate or the university professor) was regarded in the light of a voluntary recognition or reward for services rendered out of pure love of science or humanity. Dr. Doran alleges, indeed, that "there is a religious reason why fees are supposed not to be taken by physicians. Amongst the Christian martyrs are reckoned the two eastern brothers, Damian and Cosmas. They practised as physicians in Cilicia, and they were the first mortal practitioners who refused to take recompense for their work. Hence they were called Anargyri, or 'without money.' All physicians are pleasantly supposed to follow this example. They never take fees, like Damian and Cosmas; but they meekly receive what they know will be given out of Christian humility, and with a certain or uncertain reluctance, which is the nearest approach that can be made in these times to the two brothers who were in partnership at Egea in Cilicia." It has very naturally, however, been objected that physicians act from no such lofty motives, but merely because they prefer that the gratitude or the fears of the patient should be the measure of their reward. And yet, as Mr. Wadd forcibly remarks, "it is a fact, not less singular than true, that the advancement of surgical science is a benefit conferred on society at the expense of the scientific practitioner, since in proportion as the mode of cure is _tuto et celeriter_, safe and speedy, remuneration is diminished. Perhaps in no instance is this better exemplified than in the operation of the hydrocele, introduced by my late friend and master, Sir James Earle. Compare the simplicity, safety, and celerity of this, with the bustle and bloody brutality of the old system; the business of six weeks reduced to so many days! But mark the consequence, _quâ honorarium_: does the patient increase the fee for the pain and misery he is spared? Not a bit of it. Here is little or no work done; no trouble to the doctor; no pain to the patient; therefore, nothing to pay for.... Selden, who understood these failings in mankind vastly well, gives them a sly hit in his _Table Talk_:--'If a man had a sore leg, and he should go to an honest, judicious chirurgeon, and he should only bid him keep it warm, and anoint it with such an oil (an oil well known) that would do the cure, haply he would not much regard him, because he knows the medicine beforehand, an ordinary medicine. But if he should go to a surgeon that should tell him, your leg will gangrene within three days and it must be cut off, and you will die unless you do something that I could tell you, what listening there would be to this man! Oh, for the Lord's sake, tell me what this is, I will give you any content for your pains!'" Not only has this loss of reward through the devising of new appliances for preventing human suffering, not made medical men, as a rule, one whit less anxious to devise them, or adopt them when devised; but it is in the experience of all, that in many cases physicians can render services gratuitously, which they would never have had the opportunity of rendering if it was not understood, both by themselves and the suffering, that they gave their skill cheerfully for God's sake as for gold's sake, to those who were unable to appeal to the latter power.

_Ancient Fees of Magnitude._--Seleucus--the one of Alexander's generals to whom the kingdom of Syria fell at the break-up of the empire of Macedonian conquest--gave to Erasistratus 60,000 crowns "for discovering the disorder of his son Antiochus." Alcon, whose dexterity is celebrated in Martial's _Epigrams_, was repaid by the public, in the course of a few years' practice, the sum of 10,000,000 sesterces (£80,000) which he had lost by a law-suit. Four Roman physicians, Aruntius, Calpetanus, Rubrius, and Albutius, for their attendance on Augustus and his two immediate successors, enjoyed each an annual salary of 250,000 sesterces, equal to £2000 sterling.

_Early English Fees._--In 1345, Edward III. granted to his apothecary, Coursus de Gungeland, a pension of sixpence a-day; and "Ricardus Wye, chirurgicus," had twelve pence per day, and eight marks per year, for his services. Under the same king, "Willielmus Holme, chirurgicus Regis," is rewarded with the permission, during his lifetime, "to hunt, take, and carry off wild animals of all kinds, in any of the royal forests, chases, parks, and warrens." In the Courts of the kings of Wales, the physician or surgeon was the twelfth person in rank, and his fees seem to have been fixed by law. For a flesh wound, not of a dangerous character, he got nothing but such of the wounded man's garments as the blood had stained; but for any of the three classes of dangerous wounds, he had in addition 180 pence, and his maintenance so long as his services might be in requisition.

_Fees in the reign of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth._--In the record of expenses of the Earl of Cumberland, it is stated that he paid to a physician of Cambridge £1; but this fee was evidently, as shown by other entries, an exceptionally liberal one, even perhaps for a noble to pay. In the 18th year of Henry VIII., as is mentioned in Burn's _History of Westmoreland_, Sir Walter Strickland made a bargain with a physician to cure him of an asthma for £20. Stow, in the same reign, complimenting British physicians on their skill and learning, mentions "as the great grievance that the inferior people are undone by the exorbitance of their fees." Half-a-crown, he avers, is in Holland looked on as a large fee; whereas in England "a physician scorns to touch any metal but gold; and our surgeons are still more unreasonable." Queen Elizabeth's physician in ordinary received £100 per annum, besides his sustenance, wine, wax, and other necessaries or perquisites. Her apothecary, Hugo Morgan, for one quarter's bill had £83, 7s. 8d.; but this was not all for medicines, as such entries as this will show:--eleven shillings for a confection shaped like a _manus Christi_, with bezoar stone and unicorn's horn; sixteenpence for a royal sweetmeat with incised rhubarb; six shillings for "a conserve of barberries, with preserved damascene plums, and other things for Mr. Ralegh;" two shillings and sixpence for sweet scent to be used at the christening of Sir Richard Knightley's son; and so on.

_Fees after the Revolution._--At the close of the sixteenth and opening of the seventeenth century, the fee of the physician had tended towards fixity, as regards the _minimum_ at least, which was ten shillings. This appears from several incidental contemporary statements, as in the satirical dialogue of "Physick lies a-bleeding; or the Apothecary turned Doctor" (published in 1697, during the war of the "Dispensary"), in which one of the characters, called on to pay eighteen shillings for medicine for his wife and a crown by way of gratuity to the apothecary, says: "I wish you had called a doctor; perhaps he would have advised her to have forbore taking anything, at least as yet, so I had saved 13s. in my pocket." In 1700, as appears from the _Levamen Infirmi_, the existence of _minimum_ and _maximum_ fees appears to have been quite recognised:--"To a graduate in physick, his due is about ten shillings, though he commonly expects or demands twenty. Those that are only licensed physicians, their due is no more than six shillings and eightpence, though they commonly demand ten shillings. A surgeon's fee is twelve-pence a mile, be his journey far or near; ten groats to set a bone broke, or out of joint; and for letting blood, one shilling; the cutting off or amputation of any limb is five pounds, but there is no settled price for the cure."

_Sir Theodore Mayerne._--This eminent physician, who was a native of Geneva, and attended James I. and the two Charleses, once very neatly and deservedly rebuked a mean and ostentatious friend, who, after consulting him, laid on the table two broad pieces of gold (of the value of 36s. each). Sir Theodore quietly pocketed the fee; and, on his friend expressing or showing himself hurt at thus being taken at his money, said to him: "I made my will this morning; and if it should appear that I had refused a fee, I might be deemed _non compos_." Mr. Wadd caps this anecdote with another about Dr. Meyer Schomberg, who was much in vogue about the middle of last century. Mr. Martin, the surgeon, used now and then to visit him; and was once shown in when a patient was with him. After the patient was gone, Martin noticed two guineas lying on the table, and asked the doctor how it came that he left his money about in that way? Said Dr. Schomberg: "I always have a couple of guineas before me, as an example, or broad hint, what they (the patients who consulted him) ought to give."

_Large Royal Fees in Later Times._--Henry Atkins was sent for to Scotland by James the First (of England), to attend to the Prince Charles--afterwards Charles I., but then in his infancy--who lay dangerously sick. For this journey and duty the King gave Atkins the splendid fee of £6000, which he invested in the purchase of the manor of Clapham. In 1685 a very handsome fee was ordered to be paid--but it was never paid--to Dr. King, for a brave breach of Court etiquette that saved the life of Charles II. for a time. Evelyn thus relates the incident, under date 4th February 1685:--"I went to London, hearing his Majesty had been, the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence, Dr. King (that excellent chirurgeon as well as physician) had not been actually present, to let him blood (having his lancet in his pocket), his Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have been of direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king save this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr. to let him blood in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of other physicians; which regularly should have been done, and for want of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." The Privy Council ordered £1000 to be given to Dr. King; but he never obtained the money. The physicians who attended Queen Caroline in 1737 had 500 guineas, and the surgeons 300 guineas, apiece. Dr. Willis, for his success in dealing with the malady of George III., received £1500 a-year for twenty years, and £650 was settled on his son for life; the subordinate physicians had thirty guineas for each visit to Windsor, and ten for each visit to Kew. The Empress Catherine of Russia made Dr. Dimsdale--a Hertfordshire physician--who, in 1768, travelled to St. Petersburg to inoculate her and her son, a Baron of the Empire; and presented him with a fee of £12,000, and a life pension of £500. This sum of £12,000 is about the largest ever paid, in ancient times or modern, to one physician for one operation; although there are living surgeons who from private individuals have received fees that dwarf this imperial largess into comparative insignificance. Perhaps even more remarkable, however, than Catherine's liberal payment for good work, was the Emperor Joseph of Austria's reward for bad news. On his deathbed his Majesty asked Quarin his opinion of his case, and was frankly assured, in reply, that he could not expect to live other forty-eight hours. For this uncourtly but really kind affirmation of the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and conferred on him an income of £2000. Louis XIV. gave his physician and surgeon 75,000 crowns each, after the successful performance of a painful, and at that time novel, operation. Beside this, the fees paid by Napoleon I. to the Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March 1811, when the Emperor's son was born, are trifling. Dubois, Corvisart, Bourdier, and Ivan, had amongst them a remuneration of £4000, £2000 being the portion assigned to Dubois.

_Fee for a Political Consultation._--At the outbreak of the American war, Grenville was desirous to ascertain what was the state of feeling that prevailed among the Quaker colonists in America; and he could hit, as he thought, on no more effectual means of doing this, than by a conversation with Dr. Fothergill, who was a Quaker, and enjoyed the hearty confidence of his brethren of that sect. Fothergill was accordingly summoned to prescribe for the statesman--who, in reality, wanted to feel, through him, the pulse of transatlantic Quakerism; and the visit, of course, was made to take the turn of a vivacious controversy on American politics. At the end, Grenville put five guineas into the doctor's hand, and said to him, "Really, I feel so much better, that I don't think it is necessary for you to prescribe." With a shrewd smile, Fothergill, keeping a good hold of the money, said, "Well, at this rate, friend, I can spare thee an hour now and then."

_Generous Refusal of Fees._--There are many anecdotes of refusal of physicians to take fees from persons whom the payment of them would have distressed; but they are all so nobly alike, that we need not quote any here. The benevolent and eccentric Dr. Smith, when established in a practice equal to that of any physician in London, did what perhaps few physicians in great practice would have done. He set apart _two days for the poor in each week_. From those who were really poor, he never took a fee; and from those who were of the middling ranks in life, he never would take above half a guinea! Yet so great was the resort to him, that he has in one day received fifty guineas, at the rate of half a guinea only from each patient.

_Sticklers for Fees._--Sir Richard Jebb was once paid three guineas by a nobleman from whom he had a right to expect five. Sir Richard dropped the coins on the carpet, when a servant picked them up and restored them. Sir Richard continued his search. "Are all the guineas found?" asked his Lordship, looking round. "There must be two still on the floor," was Jebb's answer; "for I have only three." The hint was taken, and the right sum put down. An eminent Bristol doctor coming into his patient's bedroom immediately after death, found the right hand of the deceased tightly clenched. Opening the fingers, he discovered within them a guinea. "Ah! that was for me, clearly," said the doctor, putting the piece into his pocket. A physician, receiving two guineas when he expected three, from an old lady who used to give him the latter fee, had recourse to one part of Sir Richard Jebb's artifice, and, assuming that the third guinea had been dropt through his carelessness on the floor, looked about for it. "Nay, nay," said the lady, "you are not in fault. It is I who dropt it."

_Fees collectively Irresistible._--Radcliffe attended a friend for a twelvemonth gratuitously. On his last visit his friend said, "Doctor, here is a purse in which I have put every day's fee; and your goodness must not get the better of my gratitude. Take your money." Radcliffe steeled himself to persevere in benevolence, just touched the purse to reject it, heard the chink of the gold, and put it into his pocket, saying "Singly, Sir, I could have refused them for a twelvemonth; but, all together, they are _irresistible_."

PALEY'S ECONOMY OF CONSCIENCE.

The great controversy on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles of faith, as practised by the Church of England, excited in 1772 a very strong sensation amongst the members of the two universities. Paley, when pressed to sign the clerical petition which was presented to the House of Commons for relief, excused himself, saying, "He could not _afford_ to keep a conscience."

DIFFIDENCE IN THE PULPIT.

Izaak Walton relates about Bishop Sanderson, that once "his dear and most intimate friend, the learned Dr. Hammond, came to enjoy a quiet rest and conversation with him for some days at Boothby Pannel, and did so, and having formerly persuaded him to trust his excellent memory, and not read, but try to speak a sermon as he had writ it; Dr. Sanderson became so compliant as to promise that he would. And to that end they two went early the Sunday following to a neighbour minister, and requested to exchange a sermon; and they did so. And at Dr. Sanderson's going into the pulpit, he gave his sermon (which was a very short one) into the hands of Dr. Hammond, intending to preach it as it was writ; but before he had preached a third part, Dr. Hammond (looking on his sermon as written) observed him to be out, and so lost as to the matter, especially the method, that he also became afraid for him; for it was discernible to many of that plain auditory. But when he had ended this short sermon, as they two walked homeward, Dr. Sanderson said with much earnestness, 'Good Doctor, give me my sermon, and know that neither you, nor any man living, shall ever persuade me to preach again without my books.' To which the reply was, 'Good Doctor, be not angry; for if ever I persuade you to preach again without book, I will give you leave to burn all the books that I am master of.'" Elsewhere Walton says:--"Though they were much esteemed by them that procured and were fit to judge them, yet (Dr. Sanderson's sermons) were the less valued because he read them, which he was forced to do; for though he had an extraordinary memory (even the art of it), yet he was punished with such an innate, invincible fear and bashfulness, that his memory was wholly useless as to the repetition of his sermons, so as he had writ them; which gave occasion to say, when some of them were first printed and exposed to censure (which was in the year 1632), that the best sermons that ever were read were never preached." Aubrey says, that when he was a freshman at college, and heard Dr. Sanderson read his first lecture, he was out in the Lord's Prayer.

CHRISTIAN NAMES AMONG THE PURITANS.

In his _Church History_, Collins says:--"Under the article of Baptism, the Book of Discipline runs thus: 'Let persuasions be used that such names that do savour either of Paganism or Popery be not given to children at their baptism, but principally those whereof there are examples in the Scriptures.' The Puritans were strict in keeping close to this rule, as may be collected from the odd names they gave their children; such as, 'The Lord is Near,' 'More Trial,' 'Reformation,' 'Discipline,' 'Joy Again,' 'Sufficient from Above,' 'Free-Gifts,' 'More Fruit,' 'Dust,' etc. And here Snape was remarkably scrupulous; for this minister refused to baptize one Christopher Hodgkinson's child, because he would have it christened Richard. Snape acquainted Hodgkinson with his opinion beforehand. He told him he must change the name, and look out for one in the Scripture; but the father, not thinking this fancy would be so strongly insisted on, brought his son to church. Snape proceeded in the solemnity till he came to naming the child; but not being able to prevail for any other name than Richard, refused to administer the sacrament, and thus the child was carried away, and afterwards baptized by a conforming clergyman."

"WHAT IS AN ARCHDEACON?"

Lord Althorp, when Chancellor of the Exchequer, having to propose to the House of Commons a vote of £400 a year for the salary of the Archdeacon of Bengal, was puzzled by a question from Mr. Hume, "What are the duties of an archdeacon?" So he sent one of the subordinate occupants of the Treasury Bench to the other House to obtain an answer to the question from one of the bishops. To Dr. Blomfield accordingly the messenger went, and repeated the question, "What is an archdeacon?" "An archdeacon," replied the bishop, in his quick way, "an archdeacon is an ecclesiastical officer, who performs archidiaconal functions;" and with this reply Lord Althorp and the House were perfectly satisfied.

"TAPPING" A TOPER.

A man who had never drunk water enough to warrant the disease, was reduced to such a state by dropsy, that the physicians decided that tapping was necessary; and the poor patient was invited to submit to the operation, which he seemed inclined to do, in spite of the entreaties of his son. "Oh! father, father, do not let them _tap_ you," screamed the boy, in an agony of tears; "do anything, but do not let them tap you!" "Why, my dear?" inquired the afflicted parent. "It will do me good, and I shall live long in health to make you happy." "No, father, no, you will not: there never was anything _tapped_ in our house that lasted longer than a week!"

THE CAPACITY OF AN ABBE.

When the diminutive Abbé de Voisenon was ordered by his physician to drink a quart of ptisan per hour, he was horrified. On his next visit the doctor asked, "What effect has the ptisan produced?" "Not any," answered the little Abbé. "Have you taken it all?" "I could not take more than half of it." The physician was angry that his directions had not been carried out, and frankly said so. "Ah! my friend," pleaded the Abbé, "how could you desire me to swallow a quart an hour? I hold but a pint!"

BENEFIT OF CLERGY.

In Burnet's _History of the Reformation_, we find it stated that "a law of Henry VII. for burning in the hand clerks convicted of felony, did not prove a sufficient restraint. And when, in the fourth year of the following reign, it was enacted that all murderers and robbers should be denied the benefit of their clergy, two provisos were added to make the bill pass through the House of Lords, the one for excepting all such as were within the holy orders of bishop, priest, or deacon, and the other, that the Act should only be in force till the next Parliament. Pursuant to this Act many murderers and felons were denied their clergy, and the law passed on them to the great satisfaction of the nation; but this gave great offence to the clergy, and the Abbot of Winchelcont said, in a sermon at Paul's Cross, that the Act was contrary to the law of God, and to the liberties of the holy Church, and that all who assented to it had by so doing incurred the censures of the Church."

DEAN SWIFT'S CONTRIBUTORY DINNER.

Dean Swift once invited to dinner several of the first noblemen and gentlemen in Dublin. A servant announced the dinner, and the Dean led the way to the dining-room. To each chair was a servant, a bottle of wine, a roll, and an inverted plate. On taking his seat, the Dean desired the guests to arrange themselves according to their own ideas of precedence, and fall to. The company were astonished to find the table without a dish, or any provisions. The Lord Chancellor, who was present, said, "Mr. Dean, we do not see the joke." "Then I will show it you," answered the Dean, turning up his plate, under which was half-a-crown, and a bill of fare from a neighbouring tavern. "Here, sir," said he, to his servant, "bring me a plate of goose." The company caught the idea, and each man sent his plate and half-a-crown. Covers, with everything that the appetites of the moment dictated, soon appeared. The novelty, the peculiarity of the manner, and the unexpected circumstances, altogether excited the plaudits of the noble guests, who declared themselves particularly gratified by the Dean's entertainment. "Well," said the Dean, "gentlemen, if you have dined, I will order the _dessert_." A large roll of paper, presenting the particulars of a splendid dinner, was produced, with an estimate of the expense. The Dean requested the accountant-general to deduct the half-crowns from the amount, observing, "that as his noble guests were pleased to express their satisfaction with the dinner, he begged their advice and assistance in disposing of the _fragments_ and _crumbs_," as he termed the balance mentioned by the accountant-general--which was two hundred and fifty pounds. The company said, that no person was capable of instructing the Dean in things of that nature. After the circulation of the finest wines, the most judicious remarks on charity and its abuse were introduced, and it was agreed that the proper objects of liberal relief were well-educated families, who from affluence, or the expectation of it, were reduced through misfortune to silent despair. The Dean then divided the sum by the number of his guests, and addressed them according to their respective private characters, with which no one was perhaps better acquainted. "You, my Lords," said the Dean to several young noblemen, "I wish to introduce to some new acquaintance, who will at least make their acknowledgment for your favours with sincerity." "You, my reverend Lords," addressing the bishops present, "adhere so closely to the spirit of the Scriptures, that your left hands are literally ignorant of the beneficence of your right. You, my Lord of Kildare, and the two noble lords near you, I will not entrust with any part of this money, as you have been long in the _usurious_ habits of lending your own on such occasions; but your assistance, my Lord of Kerry, I must entreat, as charity covereth a multitude of sins."

"BREAKING UP" BEFORE THE HOLIDAYS.

It is related that Dr. Harrington of Bath, the Editor of _Nugæ Antiquæ_, for many years attended the Dowager Lady Trevor, relict of Lord Trevor, and last surviving daughter of Sir Richard Steele. "He spoke of this lady as possessing all the wit, humour, and gaiety of her father, together with most of his faults. She was extravagant, and always in debt; but she was generous, charitable, and humane. She was particularly partial to young people, whom she frequently entertained most liberally, and delighted them with the pleasantry and volubility of her discourse. Her person was like that which her pleasant father described himself in the _Spectator_, with his short face, etc. A little before her death (which was in the month of December) she sent for her doctor, and, on his entering her chamber, he said, 'How fares your Ladyship?' She replied, 'Oh, my dear Doctor, ill fare! I am going to break up before the holidays!'"

BOTTLE BLIND.

Dean Cowper, of Durham, was very economical of his wine. One day at table he was descanting on the extraordinary performance of a man who was blind, and remarked that the poor fellow could see no more than "that bottle." "I do not wonder at that at all, Sir," replied a minor canon; "for we have seen no more than _that bottle_ all the afternoon."

FEARLESSNESS OF JOHN KNOX.

When Lord Darnley, in 1565, had married Mary Queen of Scots, he was prevailed on by his friends to go and hear Knox preach, in the hope that thereby he might conciliate the stem moralist and outspoken minister. But Knox seized the occasion to declaim even more vehemently against the government of wicked princes, who, for the sins of the people, are sent as tyrants and scourges to torment them. Darnley complained to the Council of the insult; and the bold preacher was forbidden the use of his pulpit for several days. Robertson thus remarks on his character:--"Rigid and uncomplying himself, he showed no regard to the infirmities of others. Regardless of the distinctions of rank and character, he uttered his admonitions with acrimony and vehemence, more apt to irritate than to reclaim. Those very qualities, however, which now render his character less amiable, fitted him to be the instrument of Providence for advancing the Reformation among a fierce people, and enabled him to face dangers, and to surmount opposition, from which a person of a more gentle spirit would have been apt to shrink back." The shortest and perhaps the best funeral oration extant, is that pronounced by the Earl of Morton over the grave of Knox: "Here lies he who never feared the face of man."

WESLEY AND BEAU NASH.

Wesley once preaching at Bath, Beau Nash entered the room, came close up to the preacher, and demanded by what authority he was acting? Wesley answered, "By the authority of Jesus Christ, conveyed to me by the present Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid his hands upon me and said, 'Take thou authority to preach the gospel.'" Nash then affirmed that he was acting contrary to the law. "Besides," said he, "your preaching frightens people out of their wits." "Sir," replied Wesley, "did you ever hear me preach?" "No," said the master of the ceremonies. "How, then, can you judge of what you have never heard?" "By common report," said Nash. "Sir," retorted Wesley, "is not your name Nash? I dare not judge of you by common report; I think it not enough to judge by." Nash, right or wrong as to the extravagances of the Methodists, was certainly proclaiming his opinions in the wrong place; and when he desired to know what the people came there for, one of the company cried out: "Let an old woman answer him. You, Mr. Nash, take care of your body, we take care of our souls, and for the food of our souls we come here." Nash found himself so different a man in the meeting-house, to what he was in the pump-room or the assembly, that he thought it best to withdraw.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND THE BIBLE.

In Silliman's _Travels_ it is related that during the Peace of Amiens, in 1801-2, a committee of English gentlemen went over to Paris for the purpose of taking measures to supply the French with the Bible in their own language. One of these gentlemen, Mr. Hardcastle, subsequently gave the assurance that the fact which was published was literally true--that they searched Paris for several days before a single Bible could be found.

EDWARD JENNER, THE DISCOVERER OF VACCINATION.

It is to a "country doctor" that England and the world owe one of the greatest benefits that modern medical science has conferred on the race, in the practice of vaccination. The youngest son of a Gloucestershire clergyman, Edward Jenner was placed, about 1763, as apprentice to a surgeon at Sodbury; and it was there, it is stated, that first the possibility of arresting the then dreaded and dreadful ravages of small-pox entered his mind. He accidentally learned, from the conversation of a young serving woman--who boasted that she was safe from that disease because she had had "cow-pox"--that among servants in the country there prevailed a belief that the small-pox could not attack any one into whose system had been absorbed the virus from a diseased cow. From that time Jenner never lost sight of the idea. He spent some time in London finishing his studies, under the prelections of John Hunter; and then he settled, for life as it proved, at Berkeley, in Gloucestershire. Pursuing inquiries and experiments on the subject of vaccination, he established the efficacy of the rural system of inducing "cow-pox" as a preventive against small-pox; which had originated by inoculation, accidental or designed, with some of the matter afforded by a peculiar disease of the udder of a cow, and which could be communicated by inoculation from one human being to another with the same preventive efficacy. In 1796, a friend of Jenner's, to whom he had communicated the results of his inquiry--Mr. Cline, surgeon to St. Thomas's Hospital--first employed vaccination in London; and the practice was speedily adopted in the army and navy, the Government bestowing on Jenner honours and rewards, and the University of Oxford conferring on him the diploma of Doctor of Medicine. Just, however, as Blackmore and Tanner had vehemently opposed inoculation, so did many members of the Faculty, foremost among them Moseley, Birch, and Woodville, oppose the new system of vaccination. The London mob were asked and induced to believe that if they submitted to vaccination they were in jeopardy of being converted into members of the canine species, and that the operation would infallibly be followed by the development of horns, and tail, and "thick natural fell" of hair. A child was said to have never ceased, since he received the matter into his system, to run about on all fours and imitate the lowing of a bull! In a caricature Jenner was mounted on a cow. Moseley indited verses, of which this is a sample:--

"O Jenner! thy book, nightly phantasies rousing,
Full oft makes me quake for my heart's dearest treasure;
For fancy, in dreams, oft presents them all browsing
On commons, just like little Nebuchadnezzar.
_There_, nibbling at thistle, stand Jem, Joe, and Mary,
On their foreheads, oh, horrible! crumpled horns bud;
There Tom with his tail, and poor William all hairy,
Reclined in a corner, are chewing the cud."

Even in Berkeley, Jenner was pursued with ridicule and suspicion; but he went quietly on his rounds, waiting confidently till the storm was laid, plashing through the Gloucestershire lanes in the garb that an acquaintance has thus described:--"He was dressed in a blue coat and yellow buttons, buckskins, well-polished jockey-boots, with handsome silver spurs, and he carried a smart whip with a silver handle. His hair, after the fashion, was done up in a club, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat." But Jenner, says Mr. Jeaffreson, found also compensation for all the ridicule and opposition "in the enthusiastic support of Rowland Hill, who not only advocated vaccination in his ordinary conversation, but from the pulpit used to say, after his sermon to his congregation, wherever he preached, 'I am ready to vaccinate to-morrow morning as many children as you choose; and if you wish them to escape that horrid disease, the small-pox, you will bring them.' A Vaccine Board was also established at the Surrey Chapel--_i.e._ the Octagon Chapel, in Blackfriars Road. 'My Lord,' said Rowland Hill once to a nobleman, 'allow me to present to your Lordship my friend, Dr. Jenner, who has been the means of saving more lives than any other man.' 'Ah!' observed Jenner, 'would that I, like you, could say--souls.' There was no cant in this. Jenner was a simple, unaffected, and devout man. His last words were, 'I do not marvel that men are grateful to me; but I am surprised that they do not feel gratitude to God for making me a medium of good.'"

ANGEL-WORSHIP.

A now obsolete ecclesiastical custom in Scotland was, Dean Ramsay says, that the minister should bow in succession to the heritors or proprietors in the parish, who occupied the front gallery seats; a custom, when the position of the heritors was tolerably well matched, that led to an unpleasant contest at times as to who was entitled to the precedence of getting the first bow. A clever and complimentary reply was made by Dr. Wightman of Kirkmahoe, when rallied on one occasion for neglecting this usual act of courtesy one Sunday. The heritor who was entitled to, and always received, this token of respect, was Miller of Dalswinton. One Sunday, the Dalswinton pew was filled by a bevy of ladies, but no gentleman was present; and the Doctor--perhaps because he was a bachelor, and felt a delicacy in the circumstances--omitted the usual salaam in that direction. A few days after, meeting Miss Miller (who was widely famed for her beauty, and afterwards became Countess of Mar), she rallied him, in presence of her companions, for not bowing to her on the Sunday. The Doctor immediately replied, "I beg your pardon, Miss Miller; but you know, surely, that angel-worship is not allowed by the Church of Scotland;" and, lifting his hat, he bowed low and passed on.

BUNYAN'S SUCCESSFUL AND PRESISTENT PREACHING.

A student of Cambridge observing a multitude flock to a village church on a working day, inquired what was the cause. On being informed that "one Bunyan, a tinker," was to preach there, he gave a boy a few halfpence to hold his horse, resolved, as he said, "to hear the tinker prate." The tinker _prated_ to such effect, that for some time the scholar wished to hear no other preacher; and, through his future life, gave proofs of the advantages he had received from the humble ministry of the author of the _Pilgrim's Progress_. Bunyan, with rude but irresistible zeal, preached throughout the country, and formed the greater part of the Baptist churches in Bedfordshire; until, at the Restoration, he was thrown into prison, where he remained twelve years. During his confinement he preached to all to whom he could gain access; and when liberty was offered to him on condition of promising to abstain from preaching, he constantly replied, "If you let me out to-day, I shall preach again to-morrow." Bunyan, on being liberated, became pastor of the Baptist Church at Bedford; and when the kingdom enjoyed more religious liberty, he enlarged the sphere of his usefulness by preaching every year in London, where he excited great attention. On one day's notice, such multitudes would assemble, that the places of worship could not hold them. "At a lecture at seven o'clock in the dark mornings of winter," says one of his contemporaries, "I have seen about twelve hundred; and I computed about three thousand that came to hear him on a Lord's day, so that one-half of them were obliged to return for want of room."

LETTSOM'S LIBERATION OF HIS SLAVES.

Dr. Lettsom, the founder of the Sea-Bathing Infirmary at Margate, and of the General Dispensary, was left by his father a property, which happened to consist almost entirely of a number of slaves on an estate in Jamaica. When the benevolent doctor went out to the West Indies to take possession of his inheritance, he is said to have emancipated every one of the slaves on his arrival; so that, in the words of his biographer, "he became a voluntary beggar at the age of twenty-three." The doctor went afterwards to Tortola, where, by his practice as a physician, he amassed a considerable sum of money, with which he returned to England in 1768, and attained a distinguished position among the Metropolitan practitioners.

CIVIL TO THE PRINCE OF EVIL.

The devil, in his malignant wrestlings with the spirits of the righteous, has not always been so energetically and uncivilly received as by Luther and his ink-bottle. It is related in all seriousness, that a minister who "used often to preach for Mr. Huntington, was talking one Lord's day morning, at Providence Chapel, about a trial he underwent in his own parlour, wherein the devil had 'set in' with his unbelief to dispute him out of some truth that was essential to salvation. He said he was determined that the devil should not have his way, and he therefore 'drew a chair for him, and desired him to sit down that they might have it out together.' According to his own account, he gained a great victory over the empty chair." He did better in his confidence than Barcena the Jesuit did in the opposite spirit; who told another of his order that when the devil appeared to him one night, out of his profound humility he rose up to meet him, and prayed him to sit down in his chair, for he was more worthy to sit there than he!

"PERKINS' TRACTORS" EXPOSED.

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

Clergymen and Doctors: Curious Facts and Characteristic Sketches.Chapter III: Part 3

0%37 min left in chapter