think he would say I am not a coward." His captain had the pleasure of getting him well rewarded for his valour and fortitude. Most of a sailor's vices may be traced to the love of drink, the remedy ever applied to the cares and the hardships of a sea life!-needlessly recommended by Grubb-street poets, whose influence is unhappily not counteracted by the efforts of the moralist,—and the certainty of immediate destruction has often failed to deter seamen from indulging in this hated propensity. With shame and grief, I own, we carry it to a greater excess than any other nation under heaven. Queen Anne, of "glorious" memory, gave them the means, by the too liberal allowance of half a pint of spirits to each man and boy; to this Admiral Vernon added three times as much water, a wise and salutary precaution, but not calculated to increase his popularity with the sailors. The admiral, before the introduction of a regular uniform dress, wore a coat of mixed materials, called grogrum,— he was from this nicknamed Old Grogrum; but sailors, hating long words, took off the last syllable,-he was thenceforth called Old Grog, and became sponsor to the beverage which has ever since gone by that name. A FRAGMENT FROM THE LIFE OF THE [Preserved in the Synagogue at Rotterdam.] I CAME from Smyrna to Marseilles in the year of the new era, 1720, and passed several months in the house of the merchant Sanchez. After a life of protracted misery, destined only to end with the world that now exists, I thought that I had exhausted every variety of terror and woe. But who can say I have seen all? Even for me, who have floated alone seventeen hundred years on the ocean of mortality-even for me, what untold prodigies, what speechless calamities are still in reserve! I shudder as I look forward on the dark perspective; my tragedy has not yet reached its closing act.-Happy you that read and can scarcely expect to struggle through one brief century of suffering! Marseilles, from its commerce with Egypt and Turkey, has been more frequently visited by the plague than any city in Europe. In the records of this otherwise flourishing town are contained the frightful histories of not less than twenty great plagues. It is very difficult to ascertain the truth in great events like these. It cannot be expected to rise pure and entire above the dread and credulity of the vulgar, and the confusion of all, in a season of pestilence. Never was any plague more carefully watched, nor more accurately investigated than this last of Marseilles; and yet the facts (especially those which relate to its original cause) asserted by some of the physicians of the place, are as positively denied by the physicians sent thither by the Regent. In the beginning of May we heard that since March the plague had raged in most of the ports of Syria. Some ships arriving from those quarters have lost a few men by fever; they declare that it only arose from bad provisions; some of the town officers employed in purifying the cargoes become ill the surgeon declares in his report that he does not believe it to be the plague: in a few days he is fatally convinced; he perishes himself, with a part of his family. Similar instances at length induce the medical men to acknowledge the approach of the foe: the magistrates enforce every precaution; then comes a little cessation of hostilities for several days no new victims are discovered -the public recover from their panic, every one is smiling and undaunted, and the physicians are even ridiculed for the groundless alarm which they had begun to diffuse. On the 26th of July, notice is given to the government that in the street Lescalle, a part of the Old Town inha bited only by the poor, fifteen persons have suddenly sickened. Eight of these die the next day, but no one dares to insinuate his suspicions of the cause: every one is in the secret, yet all are afraid of whispering it to their neighbours. The populace say-would the plague attack none but such poor people? Would it march so slowly? The manner of its spreading was very gradual. First houses were infected, and then streets, and then quarters, and, at last, an universal conflagration occupied the whole. An open and airy street, where the better classes resided, enjoyed the longest exemption. Some pretended that the distemper proceeded merely from worms, but at the same moment were collecting together their valuables with the intention of running away. It is the 30th-they are falling ill in several other parts of the town-they are confined by guards. Every day MM. Estelle and Moustier, the sheriffs, are making search after all who have had communication with the sick or the dead; every night they go by turns to see the dead carried away, to remove the sick to the infirmaries, and to fasten up or purify suspected abodes. The Marquis de Pilles, the governor, is perpetually co-operating with all. But the whole sum in specie at this time in the city treasury is only eleven hundred livres .What will be our fate? Bread-corn is scarce-it is immediately raised to an exorbitant price; an inventory is taken of all the provisions in the city, but little is to be found. The rich are already fled. All strange beggars are now ordered to quit our walls, but the ordinance is useless, for we learn the same day that we ourselves are prisoners. The parliament of Air has published an edict forbidding the Marseillois to stir out of their own territory, and prohibiting on pain of death any intercourse between us and the other inhabitants of Provence. Not even a muleteer, not a carrier, is allowed to approach us. Two physicians have made a proposal to burn out the disorder: they advise the council to buy up all the wood that can be found, to lay it in piles along the walls of the town, in all walks, squares, and markets-to compel every individual to place a heap before his house in every street, and to set all on fire at the same hour of the night. Every one is willing to make so easy an experiment. At nine o'clock the signal was given. How magnificent was the sight! Above, a sheet of glowing gold streams through all the sky, around us-the sea is all radiant-joy flashes across every countenance, all is animation. I stood on the tower of the cathedral, and heard afar the shout of momentary exultation, but it affected little my callous heart; my fate was not to be changed, a dreadful lot had placed me above hope or fear-as the light beamed on the great clock below me, I only thought how slow is the step of time. The whole scene was one blaze of flame, and I almost dared to wish that the moment were arrived in which all the world will be consumed, and I shall cease to be a traveller who never rests. For that evening all forgot their sorrows-but the morning brought no consolation. The president of the parliament of Aix at length permitted us to establish (as on former occasions) markets and barriers for conference, at certain spots, whither strangers might bring us provisions, without exposing themselves to any risk. Never can Marseilles forget the services afforded her in this crisis, nor the kindness and zeal with which they were accompanied. Hitherto the disorder has not exerted its utmost fury: it kills, indeed, those whom it seizes, and, when it has once entered a dwelling, carries off all the inmates; but as yet it has only been destructive to the poor. Some persons imagine hence that it is not the real plague; even those who have often witnessed it in the Levant observe some difference in the symptoms. The physicians from Montpellier, who have been anxiously expected, rather encourage these doubts; they dissemble their real opinion, and affix a public notice, importing that there only exists a contagious fever occasioned by unwholesome diet, and that it will cease on arrival of the supplies, which are hastening hither from all parts. But their opinion came too late. The mortality has for some days been on the increase; the attack is more sudden, more violent; even those who before were most eager to deceive themselves are now retreating precipitately; the gates are thronged with fugitives. Unfortunately, it is not the useless nor hungry part of the community which thus retires, but that whose presence is most necessary-the medical attendants, the officers of police, the tradesmen. The Marquis de Pilles and the sheriffs are left almost the only functionaries amidst the destitute, the daring, the desperate, the dying, and the dead. It is now the middle of August. Throughout the city reigns desolation; all the shops are closed; the greater part of the houses, convents, and places of resort, are totally deserted; the churches are silent, no knee is bent, no light is gleaming there; the port is empty; the bridges near the arsenal are drawn up; the ships have all left the wharfs to anchor at a distance. Proud and beautiful VOL. IV. PART I. L |