To this custom Shakspeare refers, when he represents Ophelia, in her distraction, singing, "Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine." The practice of addressing verses, and sending presents, to the person chosen, has been continued from the days of James 1., in which the gifts of Valentines have been noticed by Moresin,† to modern times; and we may add a trait, not now observed, perhaps, on the authority of an old English ballad, in which the lasses are directed to pray cross-legged to Saint Valentine, for good luck.‡ It was a usage of the sixteenth century, in its object laudable and useful, for the inhabitants of towns and villages, during the summer-season, to meet after sunset, in the streets, and for the wealthier sort to recreate themselves and their poorer friends with banquets and bonfires. Of this custom Stowe has left us a pleasing account: "In the moneths of June and July,” he relates, “on the Vigiles of festivall dayes, and on the same festivall dayes in the evenings, after the sun-setting, there were usually made bonefires in the streets, every man bestowing wood or labour towards them. The wealthier sort also before their dores, neere to the said bonefires, would set out tables on the vigiles, furnished with sweet bread, and good drink, and on the festivall dayes with meates and drinks plentifully, whereunto they would invite their neighbours and passengers also to sit, and be merry with them in great familiarity, praysing God for his benefits bestowed on them. These were called bonfires, as well of amity amongst neighbours, that beeing before at controversie, were there by the labour of others reconciled, and made of bitter enemies loving friends; as also for the virtue that a great fire hath, to purge the infection of the ayre." These rites were, however, more particularly practised on Midsummer-Eve, the Vigil of Saint John the Baptist, a period of the year to which our ancestors paid singular attention, and combined with it several superstitious observances. "On the Vigill of Saint John the Baptist," continues Stowe, " every man's dore beeing shadowed with greene Birch, long Fennell, Saint John's Wort, Orpin, white Lillies, and such like, garnished upon with Garlands of beautifull flowers, had also Lamps of glasse, with Oyle burning in them all the night, some hung out branches of yron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of Lamps lighted at once, which made a goodly shew." Of some of the superstitions connected with this Eve, Barnabe Googe has left us an account in his translation of Neogeorgius, which was published, and dedicated to Queen Elizabeth, in 1570: "Then doth the joyfull feast of John the Baptist take his turne, * Mr. Gay has more distinctly recorded this ceremony in the following lines :- "Last Valentine, the day when birds of kind Their paramours with mutual chirpings find; To milk my kine (for so should housewives do), Et vere ad Valentini festum à viris habent fœminæ munera, et alio temporis viris dantur." Moresini Deprav. Relig, 160. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. ii. p. 258.-"I have found unquestionable authority," remarks Mr. Brand, "to evince that the custom of chusing Valentines was a sport practised in the houses of the gentry in England as early as the year 1476" Brand apud Ellis, vol. i. p. 48. The authority alluded to by Mr. Brand, is a letter, in Fenn's Paston Letters, vol ii. p. 211., dated February, 1476. **Ibid. § Survey of London, 1618, p 159 And thorow the flowers behold the flame, his eyes shall feele no paine, Whereby they thinke, through all that yeare, from agues to be free.” * This Midsummer-Eve Fire and the rites attending it, appear to be reliques of pagan worship, for Gebelin in his "Allégories Orientales" observes, that at the moment of the Summer Solstice the ancients, from the most remote antiquity, were accustomed to light fires, in honour of the New Year, which they believed to have originally commenced in fire. These fires or feux de joie were accom→ panied with vows and sacrifices for plenty and prosperity, and with dances and leaping over the flames, "each on his departure snatching a firebrand of greater or less magnitude, whilst the rest was scattered to the wind, in order that it might disperse every evil as it dispersed the ashes." + Many other superstitions, however, than those mentioned by Googe, were practised on this mysterious eve. To one of the most important Shakspeare alludes in the First Part of King Henry the Fourth, where Gadshill says of himself and company, "We have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible." Jonson and Fletcher have also ascribed the same wonderful property to this plant, the first in his "New Inn.” "I had No medicine, Sir, to go invisible, the second in the "Fair Maid of the Inn,” "had you Gyges' ring, Or the herb that gives invisibility?" § It was the belief of our credulous ancestors, that the fern-seed became visible only on St. John's Eve, and at the precise moment of the birth of the Saint; that it was under the peculiar protection of the Queen of Faery, and that on this awful night, the most tremendous conflicts took place, for its possession, between sorcerers and spirits; for "The wond'rous one-night seeding ferne," as Browne calls it,** was conceived not only to confer invisibility at pleasure, on those who succeeded in procuring it, but it was also esteemed of sovereign potency in the fabrication of charms and incantations. Those, therefore, who were addicted to the arts of magic, and possessed sufficient courage for the enterprise, were believed to watch in solitude during this solemn period, in order that they might seize the seed on the instant of its appearance. The achievement, however, was accompanied with great danger; for if the adventurer were not protected by spells of mighty power, he was exposed to the assaults of demons and spirits, who envied him the possession of the plant, and who generally took care that he should lose either his life or his labour in the attempt. "A person who went to gather it, reported that the spirits whisked by his ears, and sometimes struck his hat, and other parts of his body; and at ⚫ Vide Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 317. "L'origine de ce feu que tant de nations conservent encore, et qui se perd dans l'antiquité, est très simple. C'était un feu de joie, allumé au moment où l'année commençait; car la première de toutes les Années, la plus ancienne dont on ait quelque connaissance, s'ouvrait au mois de Juin. "Ces feux de joie étaient accompagnés en même temps de vœux et de sacrifices pour la prospérité des peuples et des biens de la terre; on dansait aussi autour de ce feu; car y a-t-il quelque fête sans danse? et les plus agiles sautaient par dessus. En se retirant, chacun emportait un tison plus ou moins grand, et le reste était jeté au vent, afin qu'il emportât tout malheur, comme il emportait ces cendres." Hist. d'Hercule, p. 203. $ Beaumont and Fletcher's Works apud Colman. Jonson's Works, act i. sc. 6. ** Chalmers's English Poets, vol. vi. p. 281. Britannia's Pastorals, book ii. song 2. length, when he thought he had got a good quantity of it, and secured it in papers and a box, when he came home, he found both empty." Another superstition, of a nature highly impressive and terrible, consists in the idea that any person fasting on Midsummer-Eve, and sitting in the church-porch, will at midnight see the spirits of those who are to die in the parish during that year, approach and knock at the church door, precisely in the order of time in which they are doomed to depart. It is related, by the author of Pandemonium, that one of the company of watchers, on this night, having fallen into a profound sleep, his ghost or spirit, whilst he lay in this state, was seen by the rest of his companions, knocking at the church-door. + Of these wild traditions of the "olden time" Collins has made a most striking use in his Ode to Fear: "Ne'er be I found, by thee o'eraw'd, The observance of Midsummer-Eve by rejoicings, spells, and charms, has continued until within these fifty years, especially in Cornwall, in the North of England, and in Scotland. Bourne, in 1725, tells us, that "on the Eve of St.John Baptist, commonly called Midsummer-Eve, it is usual in the most of country places, and also here and there in towns and cities, for both old and young to meet together, and be merry over a large fire, which is made in the open street. Over this they frequently leap and play at various games, such as running, wrestling, dancing, etc. But this is generally the exercise of the younger sort; for the old ones, for the most part, sit by as spectators, and enjoy themselves and their bottle. And thus they spend their time till midnight, and sometimes till cock-crow;" + and Borlase, in his History of Cornwall, about thirty years later, states, that "the Cornish make bonfires in every village on the Eve of St. John Baptist's and St. Peter's Days."S It was a common superstition in the days of Shakspeare, and for two centuries preceding him, that the future husband or wife might be discovered on this Eve or on St. Agnes' night, by due fasting and by certain ceremonies; thus, if a maiden, fasting on Midsummer-Eve, laid a clean cloth at midnight, with bread, cheese, and ale, and sate down, with the street-door open, the person whom she is fated to marry will enter the room, fill the glass, drink to her, bow, and retire. ** A similar effect, as to the visionary appearance of the destined bridegroom, was supposed to follow the sowing of hempseed on this night, either in the field or church-yard. Mr. Strutt, depicting the manners of the fifteenth century, has given this latter superstition, from the mouth of an imaginary witch, in the following rhymes: • Grose's Provincial Glossary, p. 299. Bourne's Ant quities, p. 301. + Ibid. p. 285. Stowe also mentions, that bonfires and rejoicings were observed on the Eve of St. Peter and Paul the Apostles; he gives likewise a curious account of the Marching Watches which had been regularly kept on Midsummer-Eve, time out of mind, by the citizens of London and other large towns; but these had ceased before the age of Shakspeare, the last having been appointed by Sir John Gresham, in 1548, though an attempt was made to procure their revival, by John Montgomery in 1585, who published a book on the subject, dedicated to Sir Thos. Pullison, then Lord Mayor; this offer however did not succeed. ++ Queenhoo-Hall, vol. i. p. 136. Grose's Provincial Glossary, p. 285. a charm which appears to have been in vogue even in the time of Gay, who, in his Shepherd's Week, makes Hobnelia say,— "At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought, I straight look'd back, and if my eyes speak truth, With his keen scythe behind me came the youth."-The Spell, line 27. 66 Another mode, which prevailed in the 16th and 17th centuries, of procuring similar information on this festival, through the medium of dreams, consisted in digging for what was called the plaintain coal; the search was to commence exactly at noon, and the material, when found, to be placed on the pillow at night. Of a wild-goose expedition of this kind Aubrey reports himself to have been a spectator. "The last summer," says he, on the day of St. John Baptist, 1694, I accidentally was walking in the pasture behind Montague-house: it was twelve o'clock. I saw there about two or three-and-twenty young women, most of them well habited, on their knees, very busy, as if they had been weeding. I could not presently learn what the matter was; at last, a young man told me that they were looking for a coal under the root of a plaintain to put under their heads that night, and they should dream who would be their husbands: it was to be found that day and hour." He adds, "the women have several magical secrets handed down to them by tradition for this purpose, as, on St. Agnes' night, 21st January, take a row of pins, and pull out every one, one after another, saying a paternoster, or our father,' sticking a pin in your sleeve, and you will dream of him or her you shall marry;" spells to which Ben Jonson alludes, when he says, "On sweet St. Agnes' night That it was the custom, in Elizabeth's and James's days, to tell tales or perform plays and masques on Christmas-Eve, on Twelfth Night, and on Midsummer-Eve, may be drawn from the dramas of Shakspeare, and the masques of Jonson. The Midsummer-Night's Dream of the former, appears to have been so called, because its exhibition was to take place on that night, for the time of action of the piece itself is the vigil of May-Day, as is that of the Winter's Tale the period of sheep-shearing. It is probable also, as Mr. Steevens has observed, that Shakspeare might have been influenced in his choice of the fanciful machinery of this play, by the recollection of the proverb attached to the season, and which he has himself introduced in the Twelfth-Night, where Olivia remarks of Malvolio's apparent distraction, that it is a very Midsummer madness;" an adage founded on the common opinion, that the brain, being heated by the intensity of the sun's rays, was more susceptible of those flights of imagination which border on insanity, than at any other period of the year. The next season distinguished by any very remarkable tincture of the popular creed, is Michaelmas, or the Feast of St. Michael and all angels. Whenever this day comes, says Bourne, "it brings into the minds of the people, that old opinion of Tutelar Angels, that every man has his Guardian Angel; that is one particular angel who attends him from his coming in, till his going out of life, who guides him through the troubles of the world, and strives as much as he can, to bring him to heaven."‡ Aubrey's Miscellanies, p. 103. Jonson's Works, fol. edit. vol. i. That the doctrine of the ministry of angels, and their occasional interference with the affairs of man, is an old opinion, cannot be denied. It pervades the whole of the Old and New Testaments, and appears to have been an article of the patriarchal creed; for from the Book of Job, perhaps the oldest which exists, may be drawn not only the doctrine of the ministration of angels, but that of their division into certain distinct orders, such as angels, intercessors, destroyers, etc.* With this general information we ought to have been content: but superstition has been busy in promulgating hierarchies, the offspring of its own heated imagination; in minutely ascertaining the numbers and offices of angels in heaven and on earth; and in naming and appropriating certain of them as the guardians and protectors of kingdoms, cities, families, and individuals. The mythologies of Persia, Arabia, and Greece abound with these arbitrary arrangements; Hesiod declares that the angels appointed to watch over the earth, amount exactly to thirty-thousand; † and Plato divides the world of spirits good and bad into nine classes, in which he has been followed by some of the philosophising Christians. The angelic hierarchy of Dionysius, however, is the one usually adopted; he professes to interfere only with good spirits, and divides his angels, perhaps in imitation of Plato, into nine orders; the first he terms seraphim, the second cherubim, the third thrones, the fourth dominations, the fifth virtues, the sixth powers, the seventh principalities, the eighth archangels, and the ninth angels. Not content with this, he goes still farther, and has assigned to every country, and almost to every person of eminence, a peculiar angel; thus to Adam he gives Razael; to Abraham, Zakiel; to Isaiah, Raphael; to Jacob, Peliel; to Moses, Metraton, etc., speaking, as Calvin observes, not as if by report, but as though he had slipped down from heaven, and told of the things which he had seen there. S Of this systematic hierarchy the greater portion formed, during the age of Shakspeare, and for nearly a century afterwards, an important part of the popular creed, as may be ascertained from an inspection of Scot on Witchcraft in 1584, Heywood's "Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells, their Names, Orders, and Offices," in 1635, and from Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy, which, though first published in 1617, continued to re-appear in frequent editions until the close of the seventeenth century. The doctrine of Guardian Angels, as appropriated to individuals, more especially appears to have been entertained by Shakspeare and his contemporaries; an idea pleasing to the human mind, though, in the opinion of the most acute theologians, not warranted by Scripture; where only the general ministry of angels is recorded; and, accordingly, the collect of the day, in our admirable Liturgy, merely refers to, and prays for, such general interference in our behalf. The assignment of a good angel, or of a good and bad angel to every individual, as soon as created, is supported by the English Lavaterus in 1572, and recorded as the general object of belief, by the rational Scot, in his interesting discourse on spirits. "Saint Herome in his Commentaries," says Lavaterus, "and other fathers do conclude, that God doth assigne unto every soule as soone as he createth him his peculiar Angell, which taketh care of him. But whether that every one of the elect have bys proper angell, or many angells be appoynted unto him, it is not expresly sette foorth, yet this is most sure and certayne, that God hath given his angells in charge to have regard and care over us. Daniel witnesseth in his tenth * Vide Job, chap xxxiii. v. 22, 23. Dionys. in Calest. Hierarch. cap. ix. x. † Opera et Dies, vol. i. 246. $ Calv. Lib. Instit. I. c. xiv. It is worthy of remark, that Reginald Scot, from whose "Discoverie of Witchcraft," p. 500., this account of the hierarchy of Dionysius is taken, has brought forward a passage from his kinsman Edward Deering, which broaches the same doctrine as that held by Bishop Horsley in the last sermon which he ever wrote. "If you read Deering," says Scot, “ upon the first chapter to the Hebrues, you shall see this matter (the angelic theory of Dionysius) notablie handled; where he saith, that whensoever archangell is mentioned in the Scriptures it signifieth our Saviour Christ, and no creature." p. 501.- Now in the sermon alluded to by Horsley, the text of which is Dan. iv. 17, he affirms, that the term "Michael," or "Michael the Archangel," wherever it occurs, is nothing more than a name for our Saviour. Vide Sermons, vol. ii. p. 376. |