noble, which they have acquired by their industry and intellectual labour. There is one means of extending knowledge, which I cannot overlook, viz. by periodical publications: reviews, which are perhaps the best part of them, are very welcome to those, whose pocket is not competent to purchase many books. There is one mischief which will sometimes intrude, and that is party feeling. Let this be repressed, and utility will ensue. But, after all, let us remember, that literature ought to be subservient to religion. Where religion is, there will knowledge increase. Learning will not secure heaven: Religion will. Let them both proceed together, the latter as a chief, the former as subordinate. March 9, 1821. PARISH CLERKS. "A goodly sight, I wot it were to view, Or kneeling down with lifted hands to pray, 66 504 NI "Now was ther of that chirche a parish clerk The parish clerks are the lowest officers in the church; they were formerly clerks in orders, and their business was to officiate at the altar, and they had a competent maintenance arising out of the offerings. Now they are generally laymen, and have certain fees with the parson, on christenings, marriages, burials, &c. besides wages for their subsistence. In country places the salary is generally insufficient; it is therefore frequently eked out by the clerk attaching himself to some other calling, often that of teaching a ing of the village alchouse, a practice, school, and too frequently the keep which I wish the law would render incompatible with his graver function. Strange as it may appear, such was the abject state of ecclesiastical affairs, at the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, that the greatest part even of the clergy themselves, were so ignorant, that they could do little more than read. Some of them were carpenters and tailors, having taken to these employments, because they could not subsist on their benefices, and even some kept alehouses: butto return to Parish Clerks. JEDIDIAH Cleishbotham, schoolmaster and parish clerk of Gandercleugh, although little celebrated for his official functions, is sufficiently so in his subordinate character, as the collector of" the Tales of my Landlord." This characteristic of tale-telling, however, is no way peculiar to the above-mentioned Jedidiah, but common to most country parish clerks. Indeed, these are not unfrequently the depositories of all the popular lore, and all the "" CRONICKS (as honest William Cax- They are expected to be twenty ton calls them) of the villages where years of age at least, of honest conthey reside. Ás an individual, I con-versation, and competent to the duty fess, I have a great reverence for these of reading, singing, &c. In this latter rural antiquarians, and can seldom qualification, many believe themselves meet one of them, with sapient face, to excel; and many a village clerk solemn gait, and ancient garb, the when he pitches the tunes of the psalmody, seems to reach the acme of his own importance. Singing is, indeed, an important branch of public worship, and a brief digression of the subject will not be uninteresting. "The Romanists," says Southey, in his Life of Wesley, are indebted for their church music to the Benedictines, an order to which Europe is so deeply indebted for many things. Our fine Cathedral service is derived from them :-may it continue for ever! The psalmody of our churches was a suit of black he wears, "Which from the curate's wardrobe did descend;" without a pleasurable sort of mental greeting. It appears that almost five centuries ago, the parish clerk was a similar fac-totum to what he is frequently found to be in the present day; to which it seems was added a fondness for the ale, and probably also the tales, of his landlord, as witness the following lines of Chaucer: 66 popular innovation, during the first years of the Reformation; and the psalms of Sternhold and Hopkins were allowed to be sung-not enjoined. The practice however obtained, and having contributed in no slight measure to the religious revolution, when the passion in which it originated was gone by, it became a mere interlude in the service, serving no other purpose, than that of allowing a little breathing-time to the minister; and the manner in which this interval is filled, where there is no organ to supply the want of singers, or cover their defects, is often irreverent and disgraceful." If these officers were oftener selected from among the more respectable members of the different congregations where they officiate, a reciprocity of credit might then be induced between the office and occupant, who would not then be, as too often is the case, a poor hum-drum wretch, who can scarcely read what he drones out with such an air of importance, but one who would know what he is about." Dr. Johnson has somewhere given it as his opinion, that some better provision should be made for parish clerks, who ought to be capable of writing a letter on any subject, by which means they would become more extensively useful, and respectable in the villages where they reside. The adoption of these recommendations would rescue the establishment from one species of disgrace, which it now suffers on this account. In the large parishes of London, some of them have deputies for the dispatch of business, in their place, which are more gainful than common rectories. They are here a body corporate, having certain immunities of their own; their coat of arms, of which a rude tricking lies before me, appears to be on a shield, ported per fess, or and azure; a tiger's face between two books, and a fleur de lis; crest, a hand holding. Query. As this exemplification is probably incorrect, I will thank any of your heraldic friends to correct it, and say what the crest is. They publish monthly and annual bills of mortality; one of the latter lies before me, ornamentally bordered with flying hourglasses, death's heads, and cross bones, and headed with the king's and city arms. It was in the No. 28.-VOL. III. 506 year 1593, that the keeping an account of the numbers dying weekly in London, began to be practised, though it was not till 1603, that regular bills of mortality were kept. I may add, that the parish clerk was formerly interred in the porch, the burying place of the inferior officers of the church. The law regards them as officers for life, and they are considered by the common law, as persons who have freeholds in their offices; and therefore, though they may be punished, yet they cannot be deprived by ecclesiastical censures: 1 Comm. 395. They are generally appointed by the minister, unless there is a custom for the parishioners or churchwardens to choose them, in which case the canon cannot abrogate such custom; and when chosen, it is to be signified to them, and they are to be sworn into their office by the archdeacon.-Cro. Car. 589. And if such custom appears, the Court of King's Bench will grant a mandamus to the archdeacon, to swear him in, for the establishment of the custom turns it into a temporal or civil right.—1 Comm. 395. He may make a deputy, without license of the ordinary; and cannot sue in the spiritual court for fees, as being a temporal officer.-2 Strange 1108. As to the word Amen, the pronunciation of which, seems to be the pride and the prerogative of the parish clerk, there is no word in the King's English, that has been tortured into such a variety of cadence, as this important dissyllable. The signification of the word is well known, and is used in various languages, as with us, untranslated. The rabbies attach various mystical meanings to it. Scaliger says it is Arabic; but it is generally allowed to be an Hebrew word, signifying true, faithful, &c. The Greek and Latin churches have preserved this word in their prayers, conceiving it to be more energetic than any in their own languages; and at the conclusion of their public prayers, the people answered with a loud voice, Amen! Remarkable is the assertion recorded by St. Jerome, who says, that at Rome, when the people answered Amen, the sound of their voices was like a clap of thunder. The Jews assert, that the gates of heaven are opened to him who says Amen with all his might. PALEMON, April 11, 1821. 507 An Old Tragedy. MR. EDITOR. An Old Tragedy. SIR, I forward you some specimens of a Tragedy, which I consider a great literary curiosity, independently of its intrinsic merits. It is not mentioned in the "Biographia Dramatica," or in any of the works of the dramatic bibliographers, with which I am acquainted. The copy which I possess, was bound up in a volume of worthless tracts, and is in very fine preservation. If brought to the hammer, I have no doubt Mr. Heber, or some other voracious bibliomaniac, would gladly give as many guineas for it as it cost me pence. The attention of the public has been thoroughly attracted to our early drama, by the excellent "Specimens" of Mr. Lamb, and more recently by the admirable series of articles on this subject, in the Retrospective Review." I think some account of this rare (perhaps unique) play, may be acceptable to your readers. The title is as follows: "The famouse Historie of Petronius Maximus, with the tragicall deathe of Aetius, the Roman General, and the misdeeds of Valentinian, the Western Emperour, now attempted in blanke verse by W. S. London, printed by William Brent, for Nathaniel Butter, and solde by him at his shop in Paule's Church-Yarde, 1619." 66 508 He soon after marries a young and beautiful wife, with whom he retires into the country, and devotes himself to the cultivation of his paternal domains. The Emperor Valentinian, in one of his hunting excursions, visits the abode of Maximus, and is captivated by the beauty of his wife. To facilitate his desires on the latter, he takes Maximus into his service, and dispatches him on a distant embassy to Genseric, in Africa. During his absence, the Emperor tries every method, but in vain, of seducing Sabina from her allegiance, and at length effects his purpose by violence. Maximus returns in time to witness the death of his wife, who could not survive her dishonour. After a short interval of anguish and rage, during which his reason was almost unsettled, Maximus repairs to court, with a stern resolution to smother his resentment, till occasion should prompt him to a vengeance "boundless as his wrongs." Valentinian, deceived by the apparent unconsciousness of his injuries, receives him graciously, and Maximus exerts himself so effectually as to rise rapidly in favour with his weak and indolent master. His first care is to remove all, whose talents or fidelity he dreaded, from the Emperor's person, and to supply their places with powerless or treacherous dependants. He even endeavours to win to his pro While these I have been hitherto unable to dis-jects the Empress Eudocia, who had cover any writer of that period, whose initials agree with those on the titlepage, and whose style at all tallies with that of the play before us. There is a greater degree of correctness in the language and versification, and of regularity in the plot, than is common to the writers of that period. The story has been also handled by Beaumont and Fletcher, whose play of "Valentinian" contains some fine scenes, and many splendid passages, but the plot is defective, and the characters ill drawn and inconsistent. The story of "the famouse Tragedie" is this:In the reign of Valentinian the Second, (a weak and luxurious prince, who is supported on the throne by the valour and conduct of Aetius, to whose sister he is married,) Maximus, a brave but wayward youth, after serving some time in the legions of Aetius, had left the army "In fierce resentmente, that his merits past without rewarde or prayse." been long neglected by her husband. Encouraged by her apparent acquiescence, he ventures to hint his personal devotion to her; she indignantly spurns his overtures, and accuses him of this attempt to the Emperor. Maximus artfully retorts the charge, and contrives to convince the Emperor that the accusation originates in revenge, for his having shunned her attachment, and she is in consequence rigorously immured. machinations are going on, Actius, turns to Rome. The policy of Maxihaving driven Attila from Gaul, remus, assisted by the timorousness of the Emperor, who hated and feared his warlike brother-in-law, prevents Aetius from bringing his victorious legions into the neighbourhood of Rome, and he enters the city with few attendants. Aetius, on his arrival, inquires why his sister is absent? Valentinian accuses her of her intended infidelity. Aetius expresses his con 509 An Old Tragedy. 510 bowl, and drinks without hesitation; Maximus reassured, quaffs the wine, and exultingly addresses the assembled nobles on his plans of empire and ambition. He then turns to the Empress, who repulses him with horror: denounces him as the murderer of her brother and her husband; tells him that he has imbibed inevitable death from the wine; and dies exulting at having avenged Aetius and mankind. Maximus, in a speech of mingled remorse, triumph, and justification, hurriedly adverts to his wrongs, and expires. tempt and disbelief of the accusation, who were furious to destroy the murand indignantly threatens Maximus, derer of their general-bitterly taunts if he fail to prove his assertions; and Valentinian with his wrongs-fights the latter replies to him with equal with, and kills him. Finding the tehaughtiness and defiance. Aetius nure by which he held his authority hastens to his sister; and Maximus extremely precarious, Maximus repersuades the Emperor, that his only solves to espouse the widow of Valenchance of safety depends on the im- tinian. Eudocia indignantly rejects mediate destruction of Aetius, while his love, and contemns his threats. he is yet within his power. Valen- She, however, suddenly changes her tinian gives orders for the destruc- mind, and the nuptials speedily take tion of the general, who is attacked by place. The last scene of the play some of the Prætorian guards in the represents a splendid banquet in hoapartments of the Empress, and slain, nour of this event. Maximus impaafter a desperate resistance. Maxi- tiently calls for wine, "to carouse to mus leaves the city privately, tak- Rome, and his Eudocia." The Eming the body with him, and pro- press herself presents him with a ceeds to the camp of Aetius. He ar- bowl; he raises it to his lips, then rives in the night, rouses the troops, suddenly pausing, fixes his eye doubtexhibits the body of their beloved fully on Eudocia, and exclaims, commander, accuses Valentinian of" Drink thou." She receives the his murder, and incites them to vengeance. They unanimously vow to revenge Aetius, salute Maximus with the title of Emperor, and march tumultuously for Rome. Meanwhile, Valentinian, elate with his emancipation from the control of Aetius, gives a sumptuous banquet in his palace, at which he gives a loose to triumph and revelry. The riotous mirth of the feast is interrupted by the entrance of Eudocia, who bitterly upbraids the Emperor with the murder of her brother, and denounces speedy and heavy vengeance on his destroyer. She is forcibly removed, and Valen- The author has evidently bestowed tinian resumes his arrogance and en- much pains on the character of Maxijoyment. A messenger arrives, with mus. This usurper is represented as the intelligence that the army is in re- not by nature bloody and treacherous, volt. Valentinian bids him seek but the milk of human kindness in Maximus, and order him to put down him had been soured by injury. Havthe rebels. Maximus cannot be found, ing received a deep and irreparable and it is soon rumoured that he is at wrong, he seemed to feel himself emanthe head of the insurgents. Valen- cipated from all the ties that bound tinian, affecting resolution, orders Ru- him to his species. He takes refuge finus, the prefect of the Prætorian from intense and intolerable feeling, guards, to defend the gates, but the in the indulgence of his only remainlatter shows no promptitude in obey-ing passions, ambition and revenge. and on being reproached by Valentinian, leaves him with the undisguised intention of joining the enemy. The parasites and attendants of the Emperor disperse in consternation, and he is left almost alone in his palace. In this state of desertion and despair, he is sinking under an agony of remorse and terror, when Eudocia enters, and exhorts him to meet his fate as becomes a man--a Cæsar. The foes soon enter the palace-Maximus rushes in-drives back the soldiers, ing; His revenge receives an additional stimulus from his ambition, and his ambition is rendered remorseless by his revenge. This complication of passion appears to me an injudicious choice, and somewhat difficult of delineation. W. S. however, has managed it better than might have been expected in a coup d'essai, as this I imagine to be, from some expressions in the author's dedication to his looving uncle, T. S. gent." But it is time to give a few specimens of this nes, Thie sunne is sette for aye: the fleeting lightes I can but prop awhile thy cumbrous weight, Twil burst and overwhelme thy giante pride. * * * * And was it but for this the Decii died? And was it but for this great Julius conquered? Have heros, sages, chiefs, bled, councelled, toyled All but for this? O! Rome, how gloriouse in thy hardie youthe, Upon thy ruines, and with barbarous tonges Maximus's description of his first interview with the Emperor after the death of his wife, is rather striking, though the manner in which Valentinian scrutinizes the man whom he had so deeply injured, indicates a hardihood in villany, not in keeping with the character of the voluptuous prince: "I found the base purloyner of my honour His eye met mine, and shrunk abashed; the Fled from that visage which defy'd the heavens; feare. 512 Is deadly as his hate-I brav'd his glance The following scene takes place on the day of the expected arrival of Aetius:-Eudocia and Claudina. I tremble for Aetius. EUDOCIA. The love or hate of coward senators, MAXIMUS. I would my feares were groundless; (That smoothe and subtle ministere of ille) |