“The celebrated lake,” says Chateaubriand, “which occupies the site of Sodom, is called in Scripture the Dead or Salt Sea.” Not so: it is no where called the Dead Sea, in the sacred writings. By the Turks, it is called Ula Deguisi, and by the Arabs, Bahar Loth and Almotanah.
It is quite desirable for travellers to be well apprized of all, that is previously known, in regard to the field of their peregrination. Goldsmith once projected a plan of visiting the East, for the purpose of bringing to England such inventions and models, as might be useful. Johnson laughed at the idea, and denounced Goldsmith, as entirely incompetent, from his ignorance of what already existed—“he will bring home a wheelbarrow,” said Johnson, “and think he had made a great addition to our stock.” Mr. Stephens has preserved a respectable silence, on the subject of Lot’s wife.
The island, which is above referred to, turned out, like Sancho’s in Barrataria, to be an optical illusion. The Maltese sailor, who said he had rowed about the lake with his employer, a Mr. Costigan, who died on its shores, was disposed, after fingering his fee, to enlarge and improve his former narrative. Mr. Stephens does not give the date of Costigan’s visit to the Dead Sea. He, however, furnishes a linear map of its form. This also is drawn by the Maltese sailor, from memory. All that can be said of it is, that it corresponds with other plans, in one particular—the Jordan enters the sea, at its northern extremity. Probably, no very accurate plan is to be found, such have been the impediments in the way of any deliberate examination—unless Lieutenant Lynch has succeeded in the work. The figure of the Dead Sea, in the Atlas of Lucas, has no resemblance to the figure, in the late Bible Atlas by Dr. Jenks.
No. XXXVII.
Dr. Johnson said, if an atheist came into his house, he would lock up his spoons. I have always distrusted a sexton, who did not cherish a sentiment of profound and cordial affection, for his bell. It did my heart good, when a boy, to mark the proud satisfaction, with which Lutton, the sexton of the Old Brick, used to ring for fire. I have no confidence in a fellow, who can toll his bell, for a funeral, and listen to its deep, and solemn vibrations, without a gentle subduing of the spirit. I never had a great affection for Clafflin, the sexton of Berry Street Church; but I always respected the deep feeling of indignation he manifested, if anybody meddled with his bellrope.
Bells were treated more honorably in the olden time, and ringing was an art—an accomplishment—then. Holden tells us some fine stories of the societies of ringers. In his youth, Sir Matthew Hale was a member of one of those societies. In 1687, Nell Gwinne—and it may be lawful to take the devil’s water, as Dr. Worcester said, to turn the Lord’s mill—Nell Gwinne left the ringers of the church bells of St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, where there is a peal of twelve, a sum of money, for a weekly entertainment. I never shall get the chime of the North Church bells out of my ears—I hope I never shall—more than half an hundred years ago, my mother used to open the window, of a Christmas eve, that we might hear their music!
In the olden time, bells were baptized—rantized I presume—and wore posies on their collars. They were first cast in England, in the reign of Edmund I., and the first tunable set, or peal, for Croyland Abbey, was cast AD 960. Weever tells us, in his Funeral Monuments, that, in 1501, the bells of the Priory of Little Dunmow, in Essex, were baptized, by the names of St. Michael, St. John, Virgin Mary, &c. As late as 1816, the great bell of Notre Dame, in Paris, was baptized, by the name of the Duke of Angouleme. Bells were supposed to be invested with extraordinary powers. They were employed, not only to call the congregation together, to give notice of conflagrations, civil commotions, and the approach of an enemy, and to ring forth the merry holiday peal—but to quell tempests, pacify the restless dead, and arrest the very lightning. Bells often bore inscriptions like these:
Laudo Deum verum, plebem voco, conjugo clerum,
Defunctos ploro, pestem fugo, festa decoro.
Funera plango; Fulgura frango; Sabbata pango;
Excito lentos; Dissipo ventos; Paco cruentos.
The passing bell was the bell, which announced to the people, according to Mabillon, that a spirit was taking its flight, or passing away, and demanding their prayers. Bells were also used to frighten away evil spirits, that were supposed to be on the watch, for their customers. The learned Durandus affirms, that all sorts of devils have a terror of bells. This, of course, can only be true of bells, that have been received into the flock, that is, baptized. Such was the Popish belief, and that the very devil, himself, cared not a fig, for an unbaptized bell. De Worde, in his Golden Legend, sayeth “it is said the evill spirytes that ben in the regyon of the ayre doubte moche, when they here the belles rongen, and this is the cause why the belles ben rongen, whan it thondreth, and when grate tempests and outrages of wether happen, to the ende that the feinds and wycked spirytes should be abashed and flee, and cease of the movinge of tempests.”
Compared with the big bells of the earth—ours—the very largest—are cowbells, at best. The great bell of St. Paul’s weighs 8400 pounds—a small affair; Great Tom of Lincoln, 9894—Great Tom of Oxford, 17,000. This is precisely the weight of the bell of the Palazzo, at Florence;—St. Peter’s at Rome, 18,607—the great bell at Erfurth, 28,224—St. Joan’s bell, at Moscow, 127,836—the bell of the Kremlin, 443,772. The last is the marvel of travellers, and its metal, at a low estimate, is valued at £66,565. During the fusion of this bell, considerable quantities of gold and silver were cast in, the pious contribution of the people. This enormous mass has never been suspended.
There was a bell—parvis componere magna—a very little bell indeed—very—a perfect tintinabulum. It made a most ridiculous noise. An account of this bell may be found, in a pamphlet, entitled Historical Notices, &c., of the New North Religious Society, in the town of Boston, 1822. It weighed, says the writer, “between three and four hundred.” Twelve or thirteen hundred such bells, therefore, would just about counterpoise the bell of the Kremlin. “Its tone,” says the writer, “was unpleasant.” The preposterous clatter of this bell was, nevertheless, the gathering cry of the worshippers, at the New North Church, for the term of eighty-three years, from 1719 to 1802, when it was purchased by the town of Charlton, in the county of Worcester; probably to frighten the evyll spirytes, in the shape of wolves and foxes, abounding there, that would be likely to doubte moche, when this bell was ben rongen. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth is a proverb—not to criticise the tone of a gift bell may be another. This bell, which a stout South Down wether might almost have carried off, was the gift of Mr. John Frizzell, a merchant of Boston, to the New North Church, on the island of North Boston, as all that portion of the town was then called, lying North of Mill Creek. On the principle which gave the title of Bell the Cat to the famous Archibald, Frizzell should have borne the name of Bell the Church. Let it pass: Frizzell and his little bell are both translated. The tongue of the former is still; that of the latter still waggeth, I believe, in the town of Charlton.
The authenticity of the statements in the pamphlet to which I have referred, admits not of a doubt. The name of its highly respectable author, though not upon the title-page, appears in the certificate of copyright; and, in the range of my limited reading, I have met with nothing, more curious and grotesque, than his account of the installation of the Rev. Peter Thacher, over the New North Church, Jan. 27, 1720. Upon no less respectable evidence, would I have believed, that our amiable ancestors could have acted so much like evil spirytes, upon such an occasion. I have not elbow room for the farce entire—one or two touches must suffice. After agreeing upon a mode of choosing a colleague, for the Rev. Mr. Webb, and pitching upon Mr. Thacher, a quarrel arose, among the people. The council met, on the day of installation, at the house of the Rev. Mr. Webb, at the corner of North Bennet and Salem Streets. The aggrieved assembled, at the house of Thomas Lee, in Bennet Street, next to the Universal meeting-house. A knowledge of