66 This, Grose observes, may be a very accurate description of the mode of conjuration styled the circular method; but with all due respect to his majesty's learning, square_and triangular circles are figures not to be found in Euclid, or in any of the common writers on geometry. But perhaps King James learned his mathematics from the same system as Dr. Sacheverell, who, in one of his speeches or sermons, made use of the following simile; They concur like parallel lines meeting in one common centre." Reginald Scott tells us that these magic circles are commonly nine feet in breadth, but the eastern magicians must give seven. He was a liberal, however, for the age in which he lived (1584), for he adds, "howbeit, if these things be done for mirth and recreation, and not to the hurt of our neighbour, nor to the abusing or prophaning of God's name, in mine opinion they are neither impious nor altogether unlawful; though herein or hereby a natural thing be made to seem unnatural." Ady, in his “Candle in the Dark,” p. 29, speaking of common jugglers, that go up and down to play their tricks in fairs and markets, says, "I will speak of one man more excelling in that craft than others, that went about in King James his time, and long since, who called himself the king's majesties most excellent HOCUS POCUS, and so was he called, because that at the playing of every trick he used to say "Hocus pocus,* tontus, talontus, vade celeriter jubeo,' a darke composure of words to blinde the eyes of beholders." In the fourteenth century, the tragetours seem to have been in the zenith of their glory, from which period they gradually declined in the popular esteem. In an old morality, or interlude, written in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, a servant, describing the sports at his master's wedding, says: What juggling was there upon the boards! What thrustyng of knives thro' many a nose! * Archbishop Tillotson tells us that those common juggling words hocus pocus are nothing else but a corruption of hoc est corpus, by way of ridiculous imitation of the priests of the church of Rome in their trick of transubstantiation. Hiccius doctius, also a common term among our modern sleight-of-hand men, is probably borrowed from the old Ro man Catholics, the presence of whose priests in the assemblies of the people was usually announced by exclamations of hic est doctus! his est doctus! U What bearing of formes! what holdinge of swords! These tricks approximate closely to those of the modern jugglers, who have knives so constructed, that when they are applied to the legs, the arms, and other parts of the human figure, they have the appearance of being thrust through them.* The bearing of the forms or seats, we may suppose to have been some sort of balancing; and the holding of swords alludes probably to the sword dance. In a short chapter, entitled "Prestigiæ, or Sleights," published a century and a half ago, we have a view of a juggler's exhibition. It consists of four divertisements, including the joculator's own performances; the other three are tumbling and jumping through a rope, the grotesque dances of the clown or mimic, and dancing upon the tight rope. In modern times the juggler has united songs and puppetplays to his show. At the close of Queen Elizabeth's reign the profession of the juggler, with that of the minstrel, had sunk so low in public estimation, that the performers were ranked not only with "ruffians, blasphemers, thieves, and vagabonds," but also with "heretics, Jews, Pagans, and sorcerers." more modern times, by way of derision, the juggler was called a hocus pocus, a term applicable to a pickpocket or a common cheat. In These artists were greatly encouraged in the middle ages; they travelled in large companies, and carried with them such machinery as was necessary for the performance of their deceptions, by which apparatus, with the assistance of expert confederates, they might easily produce illusions of a very startling and inexplicable nature to spectators totally ignorant of natural philosophy, and prone to every species of superstitious credulity. Probably they had no exhibitions so astounding at first sight as the modern phantasmagoria, the automaton chess-player, the balloon, the sympathetic inks, and several of our chemical wonders, phenomena of which the principles are now familiar to many a schoolboy. Even our fire-eaters and combustible foreigners, who walk into an oven at a heat that will cook a beefsteak, are but * A full description of these tricks with knives, illustrated by engrav ings, is given in Malcolm's Customs of London, vol. iii. p. 28. renewing pyrotechnic wonders that were known and practised centuries ago. The little black-letter "Book of Secretes of Albertus Magnus," which discovers many "mervelys of the world," gives full instructions how to perform the following exploits: 1. "When thou wilt that thou seeme inflamed, or set on fyre from thy head unto thy feete, and not be hurt."-2. "A merveylous experience, which maketh menne to go into the fyre without hurte, or to beare fyre, or red hot yron in their hande without hurte." Dr. Fordyce, Sir Joseph Banks, and others, went into a heated room of nearly as high a temperature as M. Chabert's oven; the girls mentioned by M. Tillet supported a heat of sixty degrees higher; recent experiments fully confirm the capacity of human beings to endure a still greater exposure to heat, without any very serious inconvenience; and, in short, an extension of our philosophical knowledge will outjuggle jugglers of every description.* Our sapient monarch James I. was not altogether without grounds for ascribing the marvellous exploits of the tragetours to witchcraft and demonology, since instances occurred wherein those performers, in order perhaps to excite the greater attention, assumed to themselves the possession of supernatural powers, and even suffered death, under their own confession, as wizards and sorcerers. Upon this subject Lord Verulam's reflections† form a fine contrast to the narrow and bigoted ideas of the royal author of the Demonology. "Men may not too rashly believe the confession of witches, nor yet the evidence against them, for the witches themselves are imaginative, and believe ofttimes they do that which they do not; and people are credulous on that point, and ready to impute accidents and natural operations to witchcraft. It is worthy the observing, that both in ancient and late times the great wonders which they tell are still reported to be wrought, not by incantations or ceremonies, but by anointing themselves all over. This may justly move a man to think that these fables are the effects of imagination; for it is certain that ointments do *See Hone's Every-day Book, vol. ii. p. 780. An account of the ignivorous achievements of Powel, who exhibited in England about fifty years ago, may be found in Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, 4to., p. 213; from which book and Brand's Popular Antiquities these brief notices have been chiefly gleaned. In the tenth century of his Natural History. all (if they be laid on any thing thick), by stopping of the pores, shut in the vapours, and send them to the head extremely." The age of superstition and credulity is rapidly passing away; a smile of contempt is the principal effect produced by the cozening priests who at Naples go through the annual mummery of liquefying St. Januarius's blood; a new Faustus might spring up in Germany, or a second Galileo at Rome, without any fear of their being punished as magicians or heretics; and that juggler must be a conjurer indeed, who, even at the ignorant village of Tring, where the last of the witches was put to death, could now persuade his spectators that his legerdemain tricks were of a supernatural character, or performed by the aid of demons. -CHAPTER XX. Sedentary Amusements.-Music, Minstrels. "The man that hath not music in his soul, The motions of his spirit are dull as night, Let no such man be trusted." Shakspeare. WHY should we record the various and profound theories which have been formed upon the origin and first invention of music? Surely it is more philosophical and true, more in accordance with the dictates of religion and the grateful promptings of reason, to acknowledge it at once as the immediate, the earliest, and the most precious boon of Heaven. Nature herself has implanted in the heart of man a love of song, and of melodious combinations, by which he may give vent to, and create an echo for, his own joy in his happier moments, dissipate his sorrows when under afflic tion, and cheer his labour at all times. By this innocent artifice the peasant and the mechanic lighten their daily drudgery; and the boatman, as he times the motion of his oars to some familiar tune, seems to convert his toil into a pleasure. It has even, by a sad perversion of its peaceful tendencies, emboldened man to confront all the perils of war; and Quintilian expressly affirms that the high reputation of the Roman soldiery was partly attributable to the effect produced by the martial sound of the horns and trumpets. Music is the purest, the sweetest, the most enduring of all our gratifications. If the best things abused become the worst, there are few of our blessings which may not be said to contain within them the seed of a curse; but from this liability to perversion, from this principle of selfcorruption, the fascinating art of which we are now treating, is in a great measure exempt. "When music, heavenly maid, was young," we are indeed told that she possessed an infuriating and even a maddening power; but we are not to yield implicit credence to the reveries of poets and fabulists. No; music is naturally an allayer, not an exciter, of the angry passions; she seeks to ally herself with religion and virtue, rather than with their opposites; she is our guide, our solace, our preserver from evil temptations; and he who feels not the complacent influence of this guardian spirit should beware lest he justify the sinister averment of our motto. To the divine gift of speech, the source of so many inappreciable pleasures and advantages, music adds a universal language which all may understand, by which all may be equally charmed, and which is infinitely more lively, more animated, and better adapted than any other to excite the emotions of the heart. There is not, it must be confessed, a more noble instrument than the human voice, which, possessing exclusively the power of uttering articulate and intelligible sounds, can make thought melodious, can infuse the whole soul into its mellifluous intonations, and at once ravish the ear, subdue the heart, and exercise the intellect. But when the soul is penetrated and absorbed by some exciting object, ordinary speech is inadequate to the full expression of its transports. Yielding to the vehemence of its impressions, it effuses itself in cries, exclamatory apostrophes, and every variety of impassioned cadence; and not content with this vocal outpouring of its feelings, it seeks the aid of music, which calms its agitation by imparting to sounds a variety, extent, continuity, and sooth 1 |