" JOHN BULL ET SON ILE " IN THE EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY.
IN 1746, three volumes of correspondence appeared which purported to be written by Jewish chroniclers at different places. Extracts from the letters appeared in Tome XXIII. of the Bibliotheque Franpoise, the Gentleman's Magazine, and Fog's Weekly Journal. The volumes were also translated, if we are to believe the preface to the third volume, into German and Italian. The correspondents were Aaron Monceca, Isaac Onis, and Jacob Brito. The first mentioned of the trio, who were all Jews, took a journey over Europe, and sent his "im- pressions " in the form of letters to the second, who in turn for- warded letters from Alexandria and Cairo ; while the third gave lucid and graphic descriptions of the manners, customs, and politics of Spain and Portugal.
Aaron Monceca, visited London, and after a six days' "look round," addressed his correspondent Isaac Onis with the view of giving " an exact account of the character of the English." He writes that he found the people generally large-bodied, well- made, agile, and robust. The first thing Monceca took notice of on his arrival was "that plenty and magnificence whereby the English are distinguished among strangers ;" but he con- fessed that as a nation the English were not very fond of cultivating acquaintance with strangers, and if they happened to fall into the company of such, " they will every now and then remind them that they think themselves their betters in every respect." " It is not the good opinion," adds Monceart, on this point, " which the English have of themselves, but the vanity of telling the world they have it, which gives the offence." The following is somewhat true, even in the pre-
sent day A stranger in this country cannot walk the streets but he shall hear himself taken to pieces, and every- thing about him differing from the fashions of the place severely censured." The national contempt for foreigners is thus explained :—"Those foreigners who have settled in England by their mean conduct have inspired the natives with a contemptible idea of all their countrymen, while they are naturally prone to think highly of themselves. They who have opulent fortunes, and swim in the midst of riches and plenty, look down with pity on men struggling with all the hardships of poverty and want. As to those of narrow circumstances in this country, they don't make use of all methods to advance their fortune, but are satisfied with the little they possess, so long as they enjoy liberty, which they esteem infinitely pre- ferable to the greatest treasures. We see but few Englishmen roaming abroad to seek their fortune. They would blush at the thought of enriching themselves by following the profession of an adventurer. Commerce is their only resource to acquire a fortune, a method no less reputable to themselves than useful to their country. It is no wonder, then, that a nation of such a philosophical turn of mind should despise those whom they see traversing the globe in quest of money, and, perhaps, sub- mitting to very scandalous means in order to compass their end." (If Aaron was acquainted with the English of to-day, he would modify this "exact account" somewhat.) One of the letters is devoted to a comparison of French and English poets. Monceca says :—" The tragic poets of France are as much superior to those of the same profession in England as the philosophers of the former nation are inferior to those of the latter. There is as great a difference between Shakespeare and Corneille, Addison and Racine, as between Des Cartes and Newton, Mallebranche and Locke. It is not that the English poets want fire and lively imagination ; on the contrary, they have a deal of spirit and force of genius. But the unhappiness is, when they have raised themselves to heaven, they are not able to support themselves, but, being dazzled with their own height, sink all of a sudden to the very ground. Such is the state of the English Stage. I never saw so much genius with -so few good performances. They act every day at London a sort of frightful farces, to which they scruple not to give the pompous name of tragedies' I have seen in one of the English plays three witches introduced riding on a broomstick, and boiling herbs in a cauldron. I have seen the stage representing a churchyard, and the grave-diggers playing at bowls with the skulls of dead men ; and, what is ten times worse, I have seen all this applauded. Dryden, but especially Addison, hath taken pains to polish this barbarous muse ; but, in spite of all they could do, she still remains too much of the savage. It seems Melpomene can't put on the modest and majestic air in England which she once had in Greece, and with which she appears at this day in France. What strange alterations have they made in the translation of Voltaire's Zara ! When this tragedy came to be acted on the English stage, one might see that young Princess tearing her hair, and tumbling about, like a convulsionary. The author, sure, is little obliged to the translator for such extravagant additions. However, this may be alleged in excuse: the English poet was forced to accommodate the play to the public taste ; before it could take in this country, it must be made ridiculous. In order to obtain applause at London, the dramatic writer must exhibit monsters to the spectators ; the probable will never affect them in the least. The theatres of Paris and London represent exactly the different characters of the two nations. They speak at Paris, but at London they act. 'Tis not at all strange, then, that the French should speak better than the English, since every man is allowed to excel in his own profession. For the same reason, the amorous intrigues in the French plays are more inter- esting and better conducted than in the English. The considera- tion of this difference of character will enable us to judge of the merit of the two theatres. The character of the French is tender- ness,—love is their prevailing passion. Gallantry is, in a manner, their common profession ; it is the very life and soul of the Court. The ladies naturally speak the language of the heart; and, though their actions are not always suitable, yet, in dignity of expression, they are nothing inferior to the heroine of a romance. It is a common thing at Paris to hear a female platonic reasoning with the greatest keenness that sense has nothing to do with love in a person of birth, and that this passion is confined to the mind and the soul—the body has no share in it; and yet this philosophic lady makes her appoint- ments with a gallant every night. Love is in possession of the theatre at London, as well as of that at Paris. But the English poets are not so happy in describing the springs and motions of that passion as they are in painting greatness of soul, valour, public spirit, and such noble endowments. The character of Cato in Addison's tragedy is, perhaps, the most beautiful that ever appeared on the stage. That of Pompey in Cinna, that of Burrhus in Britannieus, nay, even that of Joash in Athaliah, is not so shining ; and yet any one of these pieces is more perfect than that of the English poet, because he was so weak in order to please the fair sex (who are the chief judges of the merit of a tragedy at London, as well as at Paris) as to introduce tender speeches, though he was a stranger to the soft language of love. This has enervated the finest tragedy that was ever acted upon any stage."
Of the liberty which the Englishman enjoys Monceca speaks highly. "No man in this country needs be afraid of being dragged from his family upon the false accusation of a spiteful impostor, and deprived of an opportunity to justify himself till after a tedious confinement He has nothing to fear from the hatred of the great, or even from the malice of the priests them- selves. As long as a man lives an honest and harmless life, he is under the protection of the laws ; and till he violates these he is perfectly secure. An Englishman need not give himself the trouble every evening to recollect what has dropped from him in conversation through the day, out of dread lest some un- guarded expression should cost him two or three years' liberty. He thinks, he speaks, and acts freely, and is under no restraint but that of the law." In this letter, which is without a date, as indeed all the letters are, we obtain some clue to the time of our Jewish visitor's reflections. He says Sir Robert Walpole, who is Prime Minister here, is a gentleman of great capacity; he has a vast, penetrating, and sublime genius, and is no less solicitous for the good of his country than concerned for the honour of his Prince. He supports with wonder- ful ability and consummate prudence the whole weight of public affairs. By his wise administration he has advanced the trade and credit of the nation to the highest pitch. Howeyer, multitudes are daily exclaiming against him. He has, indeed, more enemies than the French Cardinal. But, notwithstanding this impotent clamour, not only the thinking people in England, but all Europe in general do justice to his capacity, and acknow- ledge his uncommon merit. It is very probable his enemies would blame him less if his qualifications were not so con- spicuous. A thought is just now come into my head, while I am writing. If by any accident this letter should miscarry, and fall into the hands of an English malcontent, he'd swear it was not for naught that I commended Sir Robert ; he would never bring himself to believe that I, a Jew, a stranger in England, and wholly unknown at Court, could speak well of a man merely because I think he deserves it." This latter reflection is well put, and certainly shows how unjust we are to our public men when swayed by party. Sir Robert Walpole was, in his first administration, First Lord of the Treasury from October, 1715, to 1717; in his second administration, he filled the same office from 1721 to 1742; so that it must be some time between these dates that Aaron Monceca visited London. Speaking of the social amuse- ments of the English people, he says :—" When they can't have the opportunity to see an encounter between two masters of defence, they divert themselves with cock-fighting, bull-baiting, &c. This natural ferocity, it seems, must be gratified, and in room of men, they are content to sacrifice animals to this humour. Who could believe that people whose diversions are so cruel are, notwithstanding, humane and charitable P And yet this holds true with respect to the English. Few among them of tolerable circumstances will refuse an alms to the poor ; and for this they do not stay till they are asked— the very sight of want is sufficient to move them, and they think it reward enough to have the pleasure of relieving the miser- able. Another very remarkable contradiction in the temper of this nation is their contempt of trifles, attended with an excessive fondness for what is called the fashion. It is truly astonishing to see in the same people sentiments and inclinations so dia- metrically opposite. When one considers the vast number of law-suits which are daily decided in London, and at the same time reflects on the good-sense and prudence which runs through the discourse and books of the English, one would be tempted to believe that they all speak like philosophers, think like attorneys, and act like Normans."
Our visitor has some pertinent remarks on the religion of the people of England. We must make our selection of these brief :—" As for religion, there seems to be as many different sorts of it in England as there are inhabitants. If there was an Act of Parliament obliging everyone to publish his creed, I verily believe there would not be two found alike. This vast variety, however, does not hinder them from being extremely zealous, each in his own way. A Churchman hates a Presbyterian as bitterly as a Jansenist does a Jesuit. The Presbyterian, on the other hand, is sure to pay the Churchman home in his own coin, and both parties heartily unite in detesting a Papist; while the Papist, in his turn, takes care to come behind with neither. It is pretty hard to reconcile this whimsical behaviour of the English with their good-sense and with their generous toleration in matters of religion. But an essential quality of the English is their contempt of cere- mony or finicalness. A petit maitre at London makes a ridiculous figure ; he is equally the jest of all ranks of people. He is commonly regarded as a pretty monkey, or some other animal which is carried about for a show at public fairs." We cannot forbear giving the following description of a Presbyterian and an Established Church clergyman :—" The dress and air of the Presbyterian divines is exactly suitable to their true character. They walk with a demure and affected gait. Their faces are almost quite hidden under broad-brim'd hats, and their bodies are wrapped up in monstrous long cloakes. A Presbyterian parson in the streets of Paris would be taken for some reverend divine who had appealed to a General Council, and thereby at once had incurred the displeasure of his Bishop and brought himself into disgrace at Court. A clergyman of the Established Church makes a very different figure. He is dressed in a fine cassock, tied with a taffety surcingle. His upper gar- ment is a large and pompons-gown, artfully gathered on the shoulders ; his head is equipped with a fine, fair wig, well powdered, and a fashionable beaver, with a twisted hat-band and rose. Set off in this manner, he is not unlike the dignified clergy in France, especially such of them as live in great cities. I thought when I crossed the seas I had been rid of the bickerings of the Jansenists and Molinists ; but I find in England the Churchmen and Presbyterians copy them very exactly. If miracles were as mach in vogue here as in France or in Italy, I should expect to hear of many a good English prelate canonised for the sole merit of persecuting the Dis- senters." Speaking of our burial customs, Monceca says :— " The English have several customs which, in my opinion, are as fanatical as any that are observed amorg other nations. In this country the breath is no sooner out of the body, than they fall a-stripping the body of everything made of linen. A Mahometan is not more careful in washing a dead body, a Jew is not more exact in purifying, or a Papist in muttering over it some superstitious prayers, than the English are in wrapping it up in a flannel shroud. There are great numbers of these grave-cloths ready-made, and many get their living by selling them. There is an express law prohibiting the use of anything about a dead body that is not woollen. If so much as a thread of flax or hemp is employed in sewing a shroud, it is a crime against the State. However, at first, I was exceedingly surprised at this odd custom. When I came to understand the reason, I was far from condemning the English. The intention of their law which forbids burying in linen is to increase the consumption of woollen goods, and so to en- courage that kind of manufacture." Monceca has the following reflection on this law,—" Nothing, sure, can show a greater con- cern for trade than to make the very dead interest themselves in it."
Monceca attended the execution of several criminals con- demned to die for highway robbery, but we forbear reproducing his description of the scene.
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