Notes and Queries, Number 179, April 2, 1853.. Various

Notes and Queries, Number 179, April 2, 1853. - Various


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Coward.

      Joane Coward de Warha̅, spinster £xx,

      To appear and give evidence at the next assizes agn̅t̅ Ma. Sheapheard.

      The Exam̅ of Ann Trew, single woman, of Wareham, taken upon Oath as aforsd.

      Who sayth, yt on ye 16th of March last past she saw Mary Shep. come into ye house of Joh. Gillingame, and likewise saw Ed. Gillingame come down bare-footed very well, without any lamnesse or sickness at all, and pesently after ye sayd Mary Shep. had pulled on the legginge upon the legge of ye sd Ed. Gill., he fell instantly both lame and sick. Further, the Exn̅t̅ asked the sd Ed. Gill. (in the time of his sickness) what Ma. Shep. did unto him, who answered, she did put her hand upon his thigh.

Ann Trew.

      Anne Trew de Warha̅, spinster £xx,

      To appear and give evidence at next assizes agn̅t̅ M. Shepheard.

      I should like to know if the effect of her supposed sorcery could be attributed to mesmerism. The document in my possession appears to be original, as Jone Coward's signature is in a different hand to that of the examination.

J. C. M.

      Spetisbury.

      ST. AUGUSTIN AND BAXTER

      I am not aware that any author has pointed out a remarkable coincidence in the Confessions of St. Augustin and of Baxter:

      "Divers sins I was addicted to, and oft committed against my conscience, which, for the warning of others, I will here confess to my shame. I was much addicted to the excessive and gluttonous eating of apples and pears, which, I think, laid the foundation of the imbecility and flatulency of my stomach.... To this end, and to concur with naughty boys that gloried in evil, I have oft gone into other men's orchards and stolen the fruit, when I had enough at home.... These were my sins in my childhood, as to which conscience troubled me for a great while before they were overcome."

      Sir W. Scott cites the above passages in his Life of Dryden, with sharp comments on the rigid scruples of the Puritans:

      "How is it possible," he says, "to forgive Baxter for the affectation with which he records the enormities of his childhood?… Can any one read this confession without thinking of Tartuffe, who subjected himself to penance for killing a flea with too much anger?…"

      It probably did not occur to the biographer, that no less illustrious a saint than Augustin, to whom Puritanism can hardly be imputed, had made a parallel confession of like early depravity many centuries before. Enlarging on his own puerile delinquencies, and indeed on the wickedness of children in general, he confesses that, in company with other "naughty boys" ("nequissimi adolescentuli"), he not only stole apples, but stole them for the mere pleasure of the thing, and when he "had enough at home":

      "Id furatus sum quod mihi abundabat, et multo melius. Nec eâ re volebam frui quam furto appetebam; sed ipso furto et peccato. Arbor erat pirus in viciniâ vineæ nostræ pomis onusta, nec formâ nec sapore illecebrosis. Ad hanc excutiendam atque asportandam, nequissimi adolescentuli perreximus nocte intempestâ; et abstulimus inde onera ingentia, non ad nostras epulas, sed vel projicienda porcis, etiamsi aliquid inde comedimus.... Ecce cor meum, Deus meus, ecce cor meum, quod miseratus es in imo abyssi!"—Confessionum, lib. ii. cap. iv.

      In comparing the two cases, the balance of juvenile depravity is very much against the great Doctor of Grace. He does not seem to have had even a fondness for fruit to plead in extenuation of his larceny. He robbed orchards by wholesale of apples, which, by his own admission, had no attractions either of form or flavour to tempt him. Yet the two anecdotes are so much alike, that one would be inclined to suspect one story of being a mere recoction of the other if it were possible to doubt the veracity of Richard Baxter.

      The incident, however, is one too familiar in schoolboy life to make the repetition of the story a matter of surprise. The property in an apple growing within the reach of a boy's hand has from time immemorial been in peril, and the law itself has not always regarded it as an object of scrupulous protection. The old laws of the Rheingau, and (if I mistake not) of some other states, warranted a wayfaring man in picking apples from any tree, provided he did not exceed the number of three.

E. Smirke.

      FOLK LORE

      Subterranean Bells (Vol. vii., pp. 128. 200.).—In answer to J. J. S.'s inquiry, I beg to state, that at Crosmere, near Ellesmere, Shropshire, where there is one of a number of pretty lakes scattered throughout that district, there is a tradition of a chapel having formerly stood on the banks of the lake. And it is said that the belief once was, that whenever the waters were ruffled by wind, the chapel bells might be heard as singing beneath the surface. This, though bearing on the subject of "submarine" or "subaqueous," rather than "subterranean" bells, illustrates, I think, the tradition to which J. J. S. refers.

J. W. M.

      Hordley, Ellesmere.

      Welsh Legend of the Redbreast.—According to my old nurse (a Carmarthenshire woman), the redbreast, like Prometheus, is the victim φιλανθρώπου τρόπου . Not only the babes in the wood, but mankind at large, are indebted to these deserving favourites. How could any child help regarding with grateful veneration the little bird with bosom red, when assured—

      "That far, far, far away is a land of woe, darkness, spirits of evil, and fire. Day by day does the little bird bear in his bill a drop of water to quench the flame. So near to the burning stream does he fly, that his dear little feathers are scorched: and hence he is named Bron-rhuddyn.5 To serve little children, the robin dares approach the Infernal Pit. No good child will hurt the devoted benefactor of man. The robin returns from the land of fire, and therefore he feels the cold of winter far more than his brother birds. He shivers in the brumal blast; hungry, he chirps before your door. Oh! my child, then, in gratitude throw a few crumbs to poor red-breast."

      Why, a Pythagorean would have eaten a peacock sooner than one of us would have injured a robin.

R. P.

      JOHNSONIANA

      I inclose you a transcript of a letter of Boswell's which I think worthy of being permanently recorded, and am not aware of its having been before in print.

      Edinburgh, 11th April, 1774.

      Dear Sir,

      When Mr. Johnson and I arrived at Inveraray after our expedition to the Hebrides, and there for the first time after many days renewed our enjoyment of the luxuries of civilised life, one of the most elegant that I could wish to find was lying for me, a letter from Mr. Garrick. It was a pineapple of the finest flavour, which had a high zest indeed amongst the heath-covered mountains of Scotia. That I have not thanked you for it long ere now is one of those strange facts for which it is so difficult to account, that I shall not attempt it. The Idler has strongly expressed many of the wonderful effects of the vis inertiæ of the human mind. But it is hardly credible that a man should have the warmest regard for his friend, a constant desire to show it, and a keen ambition for a frequent epistolary intercourse with him, and yet should let months roll on without having resolution, or activity, or power, or whatever it be, to write a few lines. A man in such a situation is somewhat like Tantalus reversed. He recedes, he knows not how, from what he loves, which is full as provoking as when what he loves recedes from him. That my complaint is not a peculiar fancy, but deep in human nature, I appeal to the authority of St. Paul, who though he had not been exalted to the dignity of an apostle, would have stood high in fame as a philosopher and orator, "What I would that do I not." You need be under no concern as to your debt to me for the book which I purchased for you. It was long ago discharged; for believe me, I intended the book as a present. Or if you rather chuse that it should be held as an exchange with the epitaphs which you sent me, I have no objection. Dr. Goldsmith's death would affect all the club much. I have not been so much affected with any event that has happened of a long time. I wish you


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Bron-rhuddyn = "breast-burnt," or "breast-scorched."