Dealings With The Dead Volume II Part 3

A like event happened, in my time, to a play-actor, buried at Cambridge. I remember the account, given me by a clever fellow, who being full of frolic, and desirous of knowing what were the feelings of persons, who were hanging, suspended himself to a beam, and let himself drop, thinking that he could lay hold on the beam, when he chose. This, however, he was unable to do; but, luckily, he was relieved by a companion. Upon being interrogated, he replied, that he had not been sensible of any pain--that, at first, a sort of fire and flashing came about his eyes--then extreme darkness and shadows--and, lastly, a sort of pale blue color, like that of the ocean. I have heard a physician, now living, say, that, by frictions and the warm bath, he had brought a man to life, who had hanged himself, and remained suspended, for half an hour. The same physician used to say, that he believed any one might be recovered, who had been suspended no longer, unless his neck was broken. Such is a version of Lord Bacon's statement.

In the Gentleman's Magazine, for 1834, page 475, the following account is given of the feelings, during the process of hanging, by one, who was restored--"The preparations were dreadful, beyond all expression. On being dropped, he found himself midst fields and rivers of blood, which gradually acquired a greenish tinge; and imagined, if he could reach a certain spot in the same, he should be easy. He struggled forcibly to attain this, and felt no more."

No. XCVI.

It were greatly to be desired, that every driver of brute animals, Guinea negroes, and hard bargains, since he will not be a Christian, should be a Pythagorean. The doctrine of the metempsychosis would, doubtless, instil a salutary terror into his mind; and soften the harshness of his character, by creating a dread of being, himself, spavined and wind-galled, through all eternity; or destined to suffer from the lash, which he has mercilessly laid upon the slave; or condemned to endure that hard measure, which he has meted, in this world, to the miserable debtor.

This opinion, which Pythagoras is said to have borrowed from the Egyptians, or, as some a.s.sert, from the Brachmans, makes the chief basis of religion, among the Banians and others, in India and China, at the present day; and is the cause of their great aversion to take the life of brute animals, and even insects. The accidental destruction of any living thing produces, with them, a feeling of sorrow, similar to that, experienced, as Mr. Catlin says, by an Indian, who unfortunately shot his _totem_, which, in that case, chanced to be a bear; that is, an animal of a certain race, one of which his guardian angel was supposed to inhabit.

Vague and fantastical, as have been the notions of a future state, in different nations, the idea of a condition of being, after death, has been very universal. Such was the conclusion from the reasonings of Plato. Such were the results "quae Socrates supremo vitae die de immortalitate animorum disseruisset." Such was the faith of Cicero--"Sic mihi persuasi, sic sentio, quum tanta celeritas animorum sit, tanta memoria praeteritorum, futurorumque prudentia, tot artes, tantae scientiae, tot inventa, non posse eam naturam, quae res eas contineat, esse mortalem." De Senec. 21.

Seneca was born a year before the Christian era. There is a remarkable pa.s.sage, in his sixty-third letter, addressed to Lucilius. He is striving to comfort Lucilius, who had lost his friend Flaccus--"Cogitemus ergo Lucili carissime, cito nos eo perventuros quo illum pervenisse moeremus.

Et forta.s.se (si modo sapientium vera fama est, recipitque nos locus aliquis) quem putamus perisse, praemissus est:"--Let us consider, my dear Lucilius, how soon we, ourselves, shall go whither he has gone, whose fate we deplore. And possibly (if the report of certain wise men be true, and there is indeed a place to receive us hereafter) he whom we consider as gone from us _forever_, has only gone _before_. Here is, indeed, a shadowy conception of a future state. The heathen and the Christian, the savage and the sage concur, in the feeling, or the faith, or the philosophy, whichever it may be, that, though flesh and blood, bone and muscle shall perish, the spirit shall not. An impression, like this, swells into conviction, from the very contemplation of its own instinctive and pervasive character.

The Egyptians believed, in the abiding presence of the spirit with the body, so long as the latter could be preserved; and therefore bestowed great pains, in its preservation. In the travels of Lewis and Clarke, the Echeloot Indians are reported to pay great regard to their dead; and Captain Clarke was of the opinion, that they were believers in a future state. They have common cemeteries; the bodies, carefully wrapped in skins, are laid on mats, in vaults made of pine or cedar, eight feet square; the sides are covered with strange figures, cut and painted, and images are attached. On tall poles, surmounting these structures, are suspended bra.s.s kettles, old frying-pans, sh.e.l.ls, skins, baskets, pieces of cloth, and hair. Sometimes the body is laid in one canoe, and covered with another. It is not easy to conjecture what occasion these poor Echeloots supposed spirits could have, for frying-pans and bra.s.s kettles.

The faith of the inhabitants of Taheite is very peculiar. They believe, that the soul pa.s.ses through no other purgatory, than the stomach of the _Eatooa_ bird. They say of the dead, that they are _harra po_, gone to the night; and they believe, that the soul is instantly swallowed, by the _Eatooa_ bird, and is purified by the process of deglut.i.tion; then it revives; becomes a superior being; never more to be liable to suffering.

This soul is now raised to the rank of the _Eatooa_, and may, itself, swallow souls, whenever an opportunity occurs; which, having pa.s.sed through this gastric purgation, may, in their turn, do the very same thing. Vancouver was present, at the obsequies of the chief, _Matooara_.

The priest gave a funeral sermon--"_The trees yet live_," said he, "_the plants flourish, yet Matooara dies!_" It was a kind of expostulation with _Eatooa_.

Baron Swedenborg's notions of the soul's condition, after death, are very original, and rather oriental. He believed, "that man eats, and drinks, and even enjoys conjugal delight, as in this world; that the resemblance between the two worlds is so great, that, in the spiritual world, there are cities with palaces and houses, and also writings and books, employments and merchandizes; that there are gold and silver, and precious stones there. There is, in the spiritual world, all and every thing that there is in the natural world; but that in Heaven, such things are in an infinitely more perfect state." Trade, in Heaven, is conducted, doubtless, on those lofty principles, inculcated, by the late Dr.

Chalmers, in his commercial discourses; counterfeiters and bank robbers, marriage squabbles and curtain lectures are unknown; and no angel lendeth upon usury. In this arrangement, there is a remarkable oversight; for, as death is dispensed with, our vocation is no better, than Oth.e.l.lo's. The superior advantages of the Baron's Heaven scarcely offer a fair compensation, for the suffering and inconvenience of removing, from our present tabernacles; and, for one, I should decidedly prefer to remain where I am, especially now that we have gotten the Cochituate water.

Such being the fashion of Swedenborg's Heaven, it would be quite interesting, were he now among us, in the flesh, to have, under his own hand, a rough sketch of his h.e.l.l. As the former is a state, somewhat better, the latter must be a state somewhat worse, than our present condition. It would not be very difficult to give some little idea of Swedenborg's Orcus, or place of punishment. We should have an eternal subtreasury, of course, with a tariff, more onerous, if possible, than that of 1846: the infernal banks would not discount, and money, on prime paper, would be three per cent. a month. Slavery would cover the earth; and the South would rage against the North and its interference, like the maniac, against his best friend, who strives to prevent him, from cutting his own throat, with his own razor.

Among the fancies, which have prevailed, in relation to the soul and its habits, none, perhaps, have been more remarkable, than the belief, in an actual _exodus_, or going forth, of the soul from the body, during life, on excursions of business or pleasure. This may be placed in the category of sick men's dreams; and probably is nothing else than that mighty conjuration of the mind, especially the mind of an invalid; of whose power no man had greater experience than Emanuel Swedenborg. The inhabitants of some of the Polynesian islands believe, that the spirits of their ancestors become divinities, or _Tees_. They believe the soul walks abroad, in dreams, under the charge of its _Tee_, or tutelary angel.

Mydo, a boy, was brought from Taheite, by an English whaler, and died, kindly cared for, by the Moravians. One morning, he spoke to these friends, as follows:--"You told me my soul could not die, and I have been thinking about it. Last night my body lay on that bed, but I knew nothing of it, for my soul was very far off. My soul was in Taheite. I am sure I saw my mother and my friends, and I saw the trees and dwellings, as I left them. I spoke to the people, and they spoke to me; and yet my body was lying still in this room, all the while. In the morning, I was come again into my body, and was at Mirfield, and Taheite was a great many miles off.

Now I understand what you say about my body being put into the earth, and my soul being somewhere else; and I wish to know where it will be, when it can no more return to my body." Such were the humble conceptions of the dying Taheitean boy--let the reader decide for himself what more there may be, under the grandiloquence of Addison--

--------Plato, thou reasonest well.

Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction!

'Tis the divinity, that stirs within us; 'Tis Heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.

No. XCVII.

The ashes of the dead are ransacked, not only for hidden treasure, and for interesting relics, but there is a figurative species of raking and scratching, among them, in quest of one's ancestors. This is, too frequently, a periculous experiment; for the searcher sometimes finds his progress--the pleasure of his employment, at least--rudely interrupted, by an offensive stump, which proves to be the relic of the whipping-post, or the gallows.

Neither the party himself, nor the world, trouble their heads, about a man's ancestors, until he has distinguished himself, in some degree, or fancies that he has; for, while he is n.o.body, they are clearly n.o.body's ancestors. In Note A, upon the article _Touchet_, vol. ix., fol. ed., Lond., 1739, Bayle remarks--"It is very common to fall into two extremes, with regard to those, whom Providence raises greatly above their former condition: some, by fabulous genealogies, procure them ancestors of the first quality; others reduce them to a rank, much below the true one."

This remark was amply ill.u.s.trated, in the case of Napoleon Bonaparte: while some there were, who thought they could make out a clear descent from the prince of darkness, others were ready to accommodate him with the most ill.u.s.trious ancestry. The Emperor of Austria had a fancy, for tracing Napoleon's descent, from one of the petty sovereigns of Treviso; and a genealogist made a merit of proving him to be a descendant, from an ancient line of Gothic princes; to all this Napoleon sensibly replied, that he dated his patent of n.o.bility, from the battle of Monte Notte.

Cicero was of the same way of thinking, and prided himself, on being _novus h.o.m.o_. Among the _fragmenta_, ascribed to him, there is a declamation against Sall.u.s.t, published by Lemaire, in his edition of the Cla.s.sics, though he believes it not to be Cicero's; in which, sec. ii., are these words--_Ego meis majoribus virtute mea praeluxi; ut, si prius noti non fuerint, a me accipiant initium memoriae suae_--_By my virtue, I have shown forth before my ancestors; so, that if they were unknown before, they will receive the commencement of their notoriety from me_. "I am no herald," said Sydney, "to inquire of men's pedigrees: it sufficeth for me if I know their virtues."

This setting up for ancestors, among those, who, from the very nature of our inst.i.tutions, are, and ever must be, a middling interest people, is as harmless, as it is sometimes ridiculous, and no more need be said of its inoffensiveness.

From the very nature of the case, there can be no lack of ancestors. The simplest arithmetic will show, that the humblest citizen has more than _one million of grand parents_, within the twentieth degree; and it is calculated, in works on consanguinity, that, within the fifteenth degree, every man has nearly _two hundred and seventy millions of kindred_. There is no lack, therefore, of the raw material, for this light work; unless, in a case, like that of the little vagrant, who replied to the magistrate's inquiry, as to his parents, that he never had any, but _was washed ash.o.r.e_. The process is very simple. Take the name of Smith, for example: set down all of that name, who have graduated at the English, American, and German colleges, for Schmidt is the same thing--then enrol all of that name, upon the habitable earth, who have, in any way, distinguished themselves; carefully avoiding the records of criminal courts, and such publications as Caulfield's Memoirs, the State Trials, and the Newgate Calendar. Such may be called the genealogy of the Smiths; and every man of that name, while contemplating the list of worthies, will find himself declaring a dividend, _per capita_, of all that was good, and great, and honorable, in the collection; and he will arise, from the perusal, a more complacent, if not a better man.

This species of literature is certainly coming into vogue. I have lately seen, in this city, a large duodecimo volume, recently printed, in which the genealogy of a worthy family, among us, is traced, through Oliver Cromwell, to aeneas, not aeneas Silvius, who flourished in the early part of the fifteenth century, and became Pope Pius II., but to aeneas, the King of the Latins. This royal descent is not through the second marriage with Lavinia; nor through the accidental relation, between aeneas and Dido--

Speluncam Dido dux et Troja.n.u.s eandem Deveniunt----------;

but through the first marriage with the unfortunate Creusa, who was burnt to death, in the great Troy fire, which took place, according to the Parian Marbles, on the 23d of the month, Thargelion, i. e., 11th of June, 1184 years before Christ. Ascanius was certainly therefore the ancestor of this worthy family, the son of aeneas and Creusa; and the grandson of Anchises and Venus. Such a pedigree may satisfy a Welchman.

I am forcibly reminded, by all this, of a very pleasant story, recounted by Horace Walpole, in a letter to Horace Mann: I refer to Letter CCV. in Lord Dover's edition. In 1749, when Mirepoix was amba.s.sador in England, there was a Monsieur de Levi, in his suite. This man was proud of his Jewish name, and really appeared to set no bounds to his genealogical _gout_. They considered the Virgin Mary a cousin of their house, and had a painting, in which she is represented, as saying to Monsieur Levi's ancestor, who takes off his hat in her presence--"_Couvrez vous, mon cousin_:" to which he replies--"_Non pas, ma tres sainte cousine, je scai trop bien le respect que je vous dois_." The editor, Lord Dover, says, in a note, that there is said to have been another ridiculous picture, in that family, in which Noah is represented, going into the ark, carrying a small trunk under his arm, on which is written--"_Papiers de la maison de Levis_."

Very few persons are calculated for the task of tracing genealogies; patience and discrimination should be united with a certain slowness of belief, and wariness of imposition. Two of a feather do not more readily consociate, than two of a name, and of the genealogical fancy, contrive to strike up a relationship. There are also greater obstacles in the way, than a want of the requisite talents, temper, and attainments:--"Alterations of sirnames," says Camden, "which, in former ages, have been very common, have so obscured the truth of our pedigrees, that it will be no little labor to deduce many of them." For myself, a plain, old-fashioned s.e.xton, as I am, I am much better satisfied, with the simple and intelligible a.s.surance of my Bible, that I am a child of Adam, than I could possibly be, with any genealogical proofs, that Anchises and Venus were my ancestors. However, there is no such thing as accounting for taste; and it is not unpleasant, I admit, to those of us, who still cherish some of our early, cla.s.sical attachments, to know, that the blood of that ancient family is still preserved among us.

No man is more inclined than I am, to perpetuate a sentiment of profound respect for the memory of worthy ancestors. Let us extract, from the contemplation of their virtues, a profitable stimulus, to prevent us from being weary in well-doing. By the laws of Confucius, a part of the duty, which children owed to their parents, consisted in worshipping them, when dead. I am inclined to believe, that this filial worship or reverence may be well bestowed, in the ascending line, on all, who have deserved it, and who are, _bona fide_, our grandfathers and grandmothers. It seems to me quite proper and convenient, to have a well-authenticated catalogue or list of one's ancestors, as far back as possible; but let us exercise a sound discretion in this matter; and not run into absurdity. I am ready and willing to obey the laws of Confucius, as implicitly, as though I were a Chinaman, and reverence my ancestors; but I must, first, be well satisfied, as to their ident.i.ty. I will never consent, because some professional genealogist has worked himself into a particular belief, to worship the man in the moon, for my great Proavus, nor Dido for my great, great grandmother.

Domestic arboriculture is certainly getting into fashion, and a family tree is becoming quite essential to the self-complacency, at least, of many well-regulated families. The roots are found to push freely, in the superficial soil of family pride. Generally, these trees, to render them sightly, require to be pruned with a free hand; and the proprietor, when the crooked branches are skilfully removed, and all the small and imperfect fruit put entirely out of sight, may behold it, with heartfelt pleasure, and rejoice in the happy consciousness, that he is a SMINK. If, however, these family matters, instead of being preserved, for private amus.e.m.e.nt, are to be multiplied, by the press, there will, indeed, in the words of the wise man, be no end of making books.

Ancestors are relics, and nothing else. Whenever the demand for ancestors becomes brisk, and genealogy becomes a _profession_--it becomes a _craft_.

Laboureur, the historian, in his _Additions de Castelnau_, tom. ii. p.

559, affords a specimen of genealogical trust-worthiness. "In 1560, Renatus of Sanzay built, with John le Feron, king at arms of France, a genealogy of the house of Sanzay, made up of near fifty descents, most of them enumerated, year by year; with the names, sirnames, and coats of arms of the women; whilst all those names, families, and arms were mere phantoms; brother Stephen of Lusignan, out of this mighty tub, as from a public fountain, let flow the n.o.bility and blood of Lusignan to all persons, who desired any of it."--Again, on page 320, Laboureur says--"They admitted, as true, all that was vented by certain false antiquaries and downright enthusiasts, such as John le Maire de Belges, Forcatel, a civilian, Stephen of Lusignan, and John le Feron, whom I will charge with nothing but credulity." This, doubtless, is the stumbling block of most men, who engage in this semi-mythical employment.

Nothing is more easy, than to mistake one dead person, for another, when corruption has done its work, upon the form and features. There is something bituminous in time. What masculine mistakes are committed by experts! Those relics, which have been the object of hereditary veneration, for thirty centuries, as the virgin daughter of some great high priest in the days of Cheops and Cephrenes, may, by the a.s.sistance of the savans, with the aid of magnifiers of extraordinary power, be demonstrated to be the blackened carca.s.s of Hum-Bug-Phi, the son of Ha.s.san, the camel-driver; who kept a little khane or caravansera near Joseph's granaries, in old Al Karirah, on the eastern banks of the Nile, famous--very--for the quality of its leeks and onions, three thousand years ago.

No. XCVIII.

Thank Heaven, I am not a young widow, for two plain reasons; I do not wish to be young again--and I would not be a widow, if I could help it. A young widow, widder, or widdy, as the word is variously spelt, has been a byword, of odd import, ever since the days, when Sara, the daughter of Raguel, exclaimed, in the fifteenth verse of the third chapter of the book of Tobit--"_My seven husbands are already dead, and why should I live?_"

All this tilting against the widows, with goose quills for spears, arises from the fact, that these weapons of war are mainly in the hands of one s.e.x. Men are the scribblers--the lions are the painters. Nothing, in the chapters of political economy, is more remarkable, than the fact, that, since all creation was divided into parishes, there has never been a parish, in which there was not a Mr. Tompkins, who was the very thing for the widow b.u.t.ton. But the cutting out and fitting of these matters commonly belongs to that amiable sisterhood, who are ever happy, without orders, to make up, at short notice.

The result of my limited reading and observation has satisfied me entirely, that there is, and ever has been, a very great majority of bad husbands, over the bad wives, and of bewizzarded widowers, over the widows bewitched. When a poor, lone, young widow, for no reason under Heaven, but the desire to prove her respect, as Dr. Johnson says, for the state of matrimony, takes the initiative, every unmarried female, over thirty, longs to cut her ears off.

If there be sin or silliness, in the repet.i.tion of the matrimonial relation, or in strong indications of uneasiness, in the state of single blessedness, man is the offender in chief.

_Quadrigamus_, signifying a man who had been four times married, was a word, applicable of old. Henry VIII. had six wives, in succession. Let us summon a witness, from among the dead. Let us inquire, where is there a widow, maid, or wife, who would not be deemed a candidate for the old summary punishment of Skymmington, should she behave herself, as boldly, and outrageously, as John Milton behaved?

Milton, though he did not commence his matrimonial experiments, until he was thirty-five, married, in succession, Mary Powell, in 1643--Catherine Woodc.o.c.k, in 1653--and Elizabeth Minshull, in 1662. Mary Powell, who was the daughter of a Cavalier, and accustomed to the gaiety of her father's house, soon became weary of her solitary condition, with John Milton, who was, const.i.tutionally, of a choleric and lordly temper. Contrasted with the loneliness, and slender appliances of her new home, the residence of her father, at Forest Hill, appeared to her, like paradise lost. So she went home, at the end of a month, ostensibly upon a visit; and, probably, gave no very flattering account of the honeymoon. Just about that period, the King's forces had thrashed Fairfax, in the North, and taught Waller the true difference, between prose and poetry, in the West; and "the Powells," says Dr. Symmons, "began to repent of their Republican connection." Milton wrote to his wife to return. She neither came, nor responded. He next sent a messenger, who was treated with contempt.

Thereupon Milton immediately proceeded to pay his suit to a very beautiful and accomplished young lady, the daughter of a Dr. Davis; and Dr. Symmons is evidently of opinion, that the lady and her family had no objections to the proceeding, which is fully exhibited, in Milton's Prose Works, vol.

vii. p. 205, Lond., 1806.

Talk not of widows after this. Finding, even in those days of disorder, that no divorce, _a vinculo_, could be obtained, under existing laws, he wrote his celebrated works--The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, and the Judgment of Martin Bucer, concerning Divorce. In these works he sets forth his particular grievance, which the reader may easily comprehend, from one or two brief quotations--he speaks of a "_mute and spiritless mate_" and of "_himself bound to an image of earth and phlegm_."

After the fight of Naseby, the Powells appear to have thought better of it; and Madame Milton returned, made the amende, and was restored in full.

What sort of composition Milton made with Miss Davis n.o.body has ever disclosed. Certain it is, that compasionate damsel and the works upon divorce were all laid upon the same shelf. We are apt to find something of value, in a thing we have discarded, when we perceive, that it is capable of giving high satisfaction to another. This consideration may have influenced Mrs. Milton; and, very possibly, the desire of returning to the residence of Milton may have been secondary to that of jilting Miss Davis, which she was certainly ent.i.tled to do. I knew an old gentleman, who was always so much affected, in this manner, by the sight of his cast-off clothing, upon the persons of his servants, that nothing would content him, short of reclaimer.