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A CENTURY OF EMBLEMS

_Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh._

A Century of Emblems

BY G. S. CAUTLEY VICAR OF NETTLEDEN, AUTHOR OF 'THE AFTERGLOW,' AND 'THE THREE FOUNTAINS.'

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

By the Lady Marian Alford, Rear-Admiral Lord W. Compton, Ven^{ble.} Lord A. Compton, R. Barnes, J. D. Cooper, and the Author

London MACMILLAN AND COMPANY 1878

To the Memory OF CHARLES DOUGLAS, MARQUIS OF NORTHAMPTON, THIS LITTLE BOOK, MAINLY DUE IN ITS PRESENT FORM TO HIS GENEROSITY AND COUNSEL, IS DEDICATED, IN ALL GRATEFUL AND TENDER RECOLLECTION BY THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

This small volume is the latest of above three thousand[1] of a similar kind, which, under the general title of "Books of Emblems" have followed in the wake of the _Libellus Emblematum_,[2] a work, much resembling a child's primer in outward appearance, published at Augsburg in A.D. 1532, and composed by Andrea Alciati, a famous lawyer, antiquary, and litterateur of Milan.

This book consisted of nearly a hundred Latin Epigrams, some original, some translated or paraphrased from the Greek, and each accompanied by a rude woodcut illustration. Alciati was the first author who gave the name of Emblem to this form of expressing his ideas: and the notion for so doing was suggested by the original meaning of the word Emblem, which signifies anything inserted. The Greeks and Romans used to insert small pictures or bas-reliefs in the sides of vases, drinking-cups, and various other utensils: these little works of art were called Emblems: they were sometimes accompanied by mottoes or verses, and often made removable at pleasure, so that they formed no necessary part of the article which they adorned.

Alciati, therefore, considering that the illustrations formed no necessary portion of his book, and that they were only inserted, as he says himself, to make his moral and philosophical teaching more attractive, gave to his collection of poems and pictures the name of "Book of Emblems."

This idea took greatly with the public of his day, and for upwards of two hundred years afterwards, and generated a class of books now reckoned among the fossils of literature, which may be dug out of ancient libraries, or procured by chance here and there through the agency of those useful purveyors, the publishers of Catalogues of second-hand works.

Now Emblem books have had their day, and are no longer regarded as a means of instruction or delight. They have done their duty as ornamental wits and lively educators, and now make way for others more suited to the age. There will be found very few theological teachers of our day who would, like Sebastian Stockhamer,[3] not only advise a patron to have the Emblems of Alciati always at hand at home and abroad, but suggest that he should do as Alexander did with the works of Homer, sleep with them under his pillow.

He, therefore, who ventures to put forth his own conceits, clothed in this old-fashioned dress, before the present world of critical thinkers and impatient novel readers, must apologise for his intrusion and crave indulgence. Some, perhaps, who may look into these pages, will sympathise with the Author in the pleasure he has enjoyed in following the footsteps of the ingenious Emblematists of old, and will accept the subjoined Emblem as an illustration of their common feeling upon the subject:--

Though the new be gold, some love the old.

"They have wrecked the old farm with its chimneys so high, And white flashing gables--my childhood's delight, The old home is gone, and the sorrowing eye Shuns the blue-slated upstart that glares from its site;" So flowed my fresh feeling, when loud at my side Rose the voice of a stranger arresting the tide:

"What an emblem is here of the glories of change, Which purges and pares the old world to its quick; Transforming that rat-hole and ricketty grange, With its plaster and laths to a mansion of brick." The prose chilled like ice,--I sank into my skin, And felt my poor sentiment almost a sin.

The Author thinks it necessary to say, that circumstances over which he had no control prevented him from carrying out his original idea, which was that every set of verses should be accompanied by an illustration; and it is only by the assistance of many friends, to whom his best acknowledgments are due, that he has been able to provide the comparatively few accompanying woodcuts.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See p. 8 of Preface to "Andrea Alciati and his Book of Emblems," etc., by Henry Green, M.A.; London, Trübner and Co., 1872, in which the learned writer states he has "formed an index of Emblem Books of which the titles number upwards of 3000, and the authors above 1300.

[2] This little book was followed by another of the same description published at Venice 1546. These two were afterwards combined into one volume.

[3] See p. 5 of his edition of A. Alciati Emblemata, 1556.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

PROEM 1

EMBLEMS EVERYWHERE 3

THE SUN AN EMBLEM OF THE CREATOR 4

SUNSET ON CAMPAGNA OF ROME 5

CUPID REFORMED 7

COLOSSAL HAND IN MUSEUM AT ROME 8

PURITANS AND RITUALISTS 9

THE BEACON CREST 10

ROOKS 11

UNA 12

LIGHTHOUSE BUILT LIKE A CHURCH 13

CHURCH IN THE VALLEY 14

CHURCH BELLS AND SHEEP BELLS 15

THE BROOK AT SUNSET 16

THE CHURCH TOWER AT SUNSET 17

SUMMER SUNSET 18

THE COMET 19

THE ROCKET 20

THE GIRANDOLA AT ROME 21

THE MOON 22

HEAVEN LIGHTS AND HOME LIGHTS 24

CLOUD EMBLEM 25

COTTAGE SMOKE ASCENDING 26

SMOKE NOT ASCENDING 27

THE CARELESS SHEPHERD 28

CHILD AND SNAKES 29

INNOCENCE 31

HILARION 32

THE FOOLISH COLT 33

TROUTS 34

THE PLATYPUS 35

THE RAPE OF PROSERPINE 36

GIRLS RUNNING 37

THE SIREN 38

THE STRANGE CHOICE 39

THE PUDDLE 40

THE MIRY LANE 41

THE DOUBTFUL RACE 42

THE SLIDING BOY 43

YOUTH 44

THE FERRY OF DEATH 45

THE FORGE AND THE SUNSET 46

THE UNDERGROWTH 47

WINTER IN MAY 48

THE SOLITARY 49

THE GOLDEN MEAN 50

AUTUMN 51

JUSTISSIMA TELLUS 52

THE FLINTY FIELD 53

HOME AND ABROAD 54

DISTANT SOUNDS 55

THE FRIENDLY THORN 56

HAPPINESS 57

BRIDEGROOM TO BRIDE 58

THE EAR-RING 59

THE GARDEN POOL 59

THE SCARECROW 60

WE JUDGE OTHERS BY OURSELVES 62

THE LAY FIGURE 63

THE WINDMILL 64

FAIRIES AND FACTORIES 65

RIGHTEOUS OVERMUCH 66

INEXPERIENCE 67

THE SUNKEN IRON-CLAD 68

THE MASTER'S WILL 69

NOW OR NEVER 70

LABOUR LOST 71

THE LOST FISH 72

STRIKING THE TENT 73

THE TURKISH BRIDGE 74

THE CROCODILE 75

THE MOUNTAINS OF EL TIH 76

DAMASCUS IN THE EVENING 77

THE TWO GOATS 78

THE ARAB WELL 79

THE DEAD CROCODILE 80

THE HYÆNA 81

GRATITUDE 82

THE NUBIAN BOATMEN 83

THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM 84

THE FORGET-ME-NOT 85

TEXTS ON TOMBSTONES 86

ROSE GARDEN AT ASHRIDGE 87

THE HEIFER DEPRIVED OF HER MATES 88

DUCKS AT PLAY 89

THE TAME HARE 90

THE WATCHFUL DOG 91

THE PUPPIES AND THE THUNDER 92

EMBLEM OF TRUE PHILOSOPHY 93

THE GUIDE-POST 94

THE WAYSIDE MONITOR 95

THE BOOMERANG 96

THE WRONG PLACE 97

THE WRONG TIME 98

TRAVELLING FOR EXCITEMENT 99

THE HAWSER 100

TRAINED CORMORANTS 101

THE BAT 102

WATERFALL BY THE SEA 103

THE DYING SWAN 104

THE PEACOCK 105

THE HUNTER 106

THE RACER 108

THE SYBARITES 109

FRANCIS PERRIER THE ENGRAVER 110

ROME 111

THEODORIC 112

SOCIAL LIFE A PICNIC 113

THE HIPPOCAMPUS, OR SEA-HORSE 117

BIVALVES 121

ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

EMBLEMS EVERYWHERE _R. Barnes_ 3 _From Drawing by the Author._

CUPID REFORMED _J. D. Cooper_ 7 _From a slight Sketch by the late Marquis of Northampton._

THE BEACON CREST _Rear-Admiral Lord W. Compton_ 10

LIGHTHOUSE LIKE A CHURCH _The Author_ 13

THE BROOK AT SUNSET _Do._ 16

THE COMET _Do. and J. D. Cooper_ 19

THE MOON _Do._ 22

COTTAGE SMOKE ASCENDING _Do._ 26

CHILD AND SNAKES _Lady Marian Alford_ 29

THE FOOLISH COLT _The Author_ 33

THE RAPE OF PROSERPINE _Do._ 36

THE STRANGE CHOICE _Do._ 39

THE DOUBTFUL RACE _Do._ 42

THE FERRY OF DEATH _R. Barnes_ 45 _From Sketch by the Author._

WINTER IN MAY _The Author_ 48

AUTUMN _Do._ 51

HOME AND ABROAD _Do._ 54

HAPPINESS _R. Barnes_ 57 _From Sketch by the Author._

THE SCARECROW _The Author_ 60

THE WINDMILL _Do._ 64

INEXPERIENCE _Rear-Admiral Lord W. Compton_ 67

NOW OR NEVER _Do._ 70

STRIKING THE TENT _The Author_ 73

THE MOUNTAINS OF EL TIH _Do._ 76

THE ARAB WELL _Do._ 79

GRATITUDE _R. Barnes_ 82 _From Drawing by the Author._

THE FORGET-ME-NOT _The Author_ 85

THE HEIFER DEPRIVED OF HER MATES _Do._ 88

THE WATCHFUL DOG _Do._ 91

THE GUIDE-POST _Do._ 94

THE WRONG PLACE _Do._ 97

THE HAWSER _Rear-Admiral Lord W. Compton_ 100

WATERFALL BY THE SEA _The Author_ 103

THE HUNTER _Do._ 106

FRANCIS PERRIER _Do._ 110

THE HIPPOCAMPUS _R. Barnes_ 117 _From Nature._

BIVALVES _Ven. Lord A. Compton_ 121

FRONTISPIECE AND FRAMES TO WOODCUTS _Lady Marian Alford._

A CENTURY OF EMBLEMS

PROEM.

I had not breathed such notes as these, Save to myself in field or wood, But for the venial hope to please Some spirits of the wise and good.

For honest mirth that sings the truth, And shakes a bell in Folly's ear, May serve a crumpled hour to smooth, And whisk away a peevish tear;

While haply to the heart may go Some tones amid the fall and rise, And stir the silent springs below Of deeper, holier sympathies.

So now into the streets of life I venture forth, but not alone, Too well aware its roar and strife Would drown my feeble undertone.

And mindful of the world's disdain, I mimic him of Rhodopé,[A] And start, escorted by a train Of beast, and bird, and flower, and tree;

For lack of these, his guardian brood, The poet in his lonely woe, By Thracian dames was torn and strewed Upon the Hyperborean snow.

Were these the critics of the day? And does this ancient tale, forsooth, Symbol the perils of his way Who seeks to win by tuneful truth?

Thrice welcome, then, O sister art! Divert the eye with pictured spell, Assume your own attractive part, And share the wrath you may not quell.

FOOTNOTE: [A] Orpheus.

EMBLEMS EVERYWHERE.

A simple faith, if fancy fed Is girt with holy signs, And common sights are seen and read As writ in holy lines.

A fish, a ship, the night and day, Some Christian truth declare, And e'en the winging crows display Black crosses in the air.

Nor blame thou this simplicity, For love is at the core, Which only sees what others see, But feels a little more.

THE SUN AN EMBLEM OF THE CREATOR.

'Mid the glow of the dawning and dew of the mist, The valley awakens in beauty and tears, For the life-bringing day-star the ridges hath kiss'd, And the presence is felt ere the splendour appears.

Now the cloud-curtain parts--from pavilion of gold The monarch goes forth with tiara of flame, And his banners abroad to the zenith unrolled, Reflect on our hearts the Ineffable Name.

O emblem of Godhead! majestic, supreme, Life drinks at thy fountain, its wave is our breath, While in rapturous awe of the glory we dream Whose glance is creation, whose absence is death.

SUNSET ON CAMPAGNA OF ROME.

When bathes the sun his burning crown, Within old Ostia's main, He sends transforming angels down Upon the Roman plain.

Bright threads they fling of iris hue, And scatter crimson plumes, As if all nature to renew With showers of fiery blooms.

See flashing out in golden grace A thousand arches rise, And bridge the violet depths of space To mountains of surprise.

To mountain waves of amethyst, All flaming up carmine; Upon each crest the angels rest Who tend the sun's decline.

But soon the subtle pomps of light Evade us like a dream, And with a breath the greys of night Envelop every gleam.

The fires are dead, the gold is stone, The mountains, shadowy ghosts: Ah, whither are the angels gone With all their radiant hosts?

They travel on from height to height, In splendour to diffuse The truth that earth's divinest light Hath no abiding hues.

CUPID REFORMED.

LOVE TRAINED IS HEAVEN GAINED.

You say he wounds both good and naught, Both old and young in wanton play, Was never brat so badly taught,-- There, take his feathery stings away:

Now send him to the Sunday school, With decent frock o'er shoulders small, There let him learn the golden rule, He'll prove a cherub after all.

COLOSSAL HAND IN MUSEUM AT ROME,

A.D. 1856.

This hand colossal from Colossus torn, This idol fragment pedestal'd on high, Fulfils a nobler purpose now forlorn, Than in the pomp of its integrity.

It heartens love, that finger pointing ever Up towards the heavenly many-mansioned home, Where members of one Lord no creed shall sever, Though sundered here, alas! in papal Rome.

PURITANS AND RITUALISTS.

In robes symbolical, through incensed air, Some pray in temples amid lights and hues, While some in tabernacles simply bare, Beauty's bright aid mistrustingly refuse.

Pray, Christians, as ye will, by nurture swayed, Habit, tradition, phantasy, or youth-- With faith is all; our Lord hath only said, He will be served in spirit and in truth.

But, brethren of a brotherhood divine, So dear to Him on whom ye daily call, Why darken with the dust of strife malign The sunshine of that love that blesses all?

THE BEACON CREST.

TO THE MEMORY OF SPENCER, MARQUIS OF NORTHAMPTON.

A blessing on the beacon's name, Our guide across the midnight sea; Who bears for crest that guardian flame, Himself a burning light should be.

And such thou wert, my patron dear, Thy beams were justice, faith, and love; Ah! may we by their memory steer, Since thou art with the lights above.

ROOKS.

O rooks, I love to watch through quiet eve Your mystic circles in the golden air, And in your solemn monotones conceive The instinct of a universal prayer.

Welcome then, wide-winged blackamoors, who poise Inverted wigwams in the swaying heights, And cheer the windy March with clanging noise, Long may fate spare your labour and delights,

Toilers and teachers strenuously good Like you I see life's gusty hours defy, Like you from earth they win their daily food, Like you they build their hopes and homes on high.

UNA.

We thank thee, gentle Spenser, for thy song Of Una, virgin Una brave and sweet, Whose eloquence subdued the Satyr throng, And bowed the tearful monsters to her feet.

Nor song alone but prophecy was thine, Forecasting many a Una wise and mild, Who spends her loving life in toil divine, Taming street Arabs petulant and wild,

The gutter offspring of a race obscure; Cheerly to these within their noxious dens The Cross she brings, nor doubts its shining pure Grace through the gloom and mercy will dispense,

And though to scare the ribald from her way No guardian lion by her side doth move, The shield of faith she bears hath sovran sway, And the strong spirit of all-conquering love.

LIGHTHOUSE BUILT LIKE A CHURCH.

That tapering Pharos pierces night As would a church bell tower; And far and wide its streaming light Symbols the Church's power,

Which flinging many a radiant clue O'er life's bewildering foam, Guides weary souls the darkness through To their celestial home.

CHURCH IN THE VALLEY.

A tree of life from Eden far, O lowly church, you stand! So stood the Lord whose sign you are, And blessed the barren land.

A tower of strength you show to all Who recognise His grace: The tender lights which round you fall Write heaven upon your face.

Your bells down in the hollow lea Cry as from sheltering nest, "Come all ye labouring men to Me, And I will give you rest."

CHURCH BELLS AND SHEEP BELLS.

The sheep bells tinkle from the knoll Faintly and sweet 'twixt far and near, But hark! at hand the funeral toll How solemn and how clear

Each wafts a hint to faithful love Of ever-mingling wealth and woe, The energy of life above, The requiem below.

Now sweeps the wholesome evening breath As tho' a voice from Heaven should fall, Blending the notes of life and death, And harmonising all.

THE BROOK AT SUNSET.

Could Pison or Pactolus old Eclipse our little stream to-night? What grape might yield a glossier gold, Such amber streams, And ruby gleams Fringed all along with dazzling light That ripples down thro' emerald meadows bright?

Brief pageant! minions of the sun, With him the hues in gloom decline; Then think on the Eternal One, Sun of the soul, At whose control Outpours the living light divine, The grace that turns life's water into wine.

THE CHURCH TOWER AT SUNSET.

See with a radiance noontide never gave Our little tower fling back the evening gold! Like to a sunlit rose upon a grave, Like to a star upon the midnight wave, When all of earth that was so bright and brave Is waning into dusk obscure and cold.

So in the nightfall of that dread decay When worlds their borrowed lustre shall resign, They who o'erlooked her on her lowly way, They who despised her in her robes of clay, Shall in the glory of her opening day Bow down abashed before the Bride Divine.

SUMMER SUNSET.

I saw the summer sunset die On golden clouds beyond the rain, I saw the dying Christian lie Bright-eyed amid a weeping train.