And Here It May Not Be Amiss To
Observe, That The Roman Catholics, Not Content With The Infinite
Number Of Saints Who Really Existed, Have Not Only Personified
The Cross, But Made Two Female Saints Out Of A Piece Of Linen.
Veronique, or Veronica, is no other than a corruption of vera
icon, or vera effigies, said to be the exact representation of
our Saviour's face, impressed upon a piece of linen, with which
he wiped the sweat from his forehead in his way to the place of
crucifixion.
The same is worshipped under the name of St. Suaire,
from the Latin word sudarium. This same handkerchief is said to
have had three folds, on every one of which was the impression:
one of these remains at Jerusalem, a second was brought to Rome,
and a third was conveyed to Spain. Baronius says, there is a very
antient history of the
sancta facies in the Vatican. Tillemont, however, looks upon the
whole as a fable. Some suppose Veronica to be the same with St.
Haemorrhoissa, the patroness of those who are afflicted with the
piles, who make their joint invocations to her and St. Fiacre,
the son of a Scotch king, who lived and died a hermit in France.
The troops of Henry V. of England are said to have pillaged the
chapel of this Highland saint; who, in revenge, assisted his
countrymen, in the French service, to defeat the English at
Bauge, and afterwards afflicted Henry with the piles, of which he
died. This prince complained, that he was not only plagued by the
living Scots, but even persecuted by those who were dead.
I know not whether I may be allowed to compare the Romish
religion to comedy, and Calvinism to tragedy. The first amuses
the senses, and excites ideas of mirth and good-humour; the
other, like tragedy, deals in the passions of terror and pity.
Step into a conventicle of dissenters, you will, ten to one, hear
the minister holding forth upon the sufferings of Christ, or the
torments of hell, and see many marks of religious horror in the
faces of the hearers. This is perhaps one reason why the
reformation did not succeed in France, among a volatile, giddy,
unthinking people, shocked at the mortified appearances of the
Calvinists; and accounts for its rapid progress among nations of
a more melancholy turn of character and complexion: for, in the
conversion of the multitude, reason is generally out of the
question. Even the penance imposed upon the catholics is little
more than mock mortification: a murderer is often quit with his
confessor for saying three prayers extraordinary; and these easy
terms, on which absolution is obtained, certainly encourage the
repetition of the most enormous crimes. The pomp and ceremonies
of this religion, together with the great number of holidays they
observe, howsoever they may keep up the spirits of the
commonalty, and help to diminish the sense of their own misery,
must certainly, at the same time, produce a frivolous taste for
frippery and shew, and encourage a habit of idleness, to which I,
in a great measure, ascribe the extreme poverty of the lower
people. Very near half of their time, which might he profitably
employed in the exercise of industry, is lost to themselves and
the community, in attendance upon the different exhibitions of
religious mummery.
But as this letter has already run to an unconscionable length, I
shall defer, till another occasion, what I have further to say on
the people of this place, and in the mean time assure you, that I
am always - Yours affectionately.
LETTER V
BOULOGNE, September 12, 1763.
DEAR SIR, - My stay in this place now draws towards a period.
'Till within these few days I have continued bathing, with some
advantage to my health, though the season has been cold and wet,
and disagreeable. There was a fine prospect of a plentiful
harvest in this neighbourhood. I used to have great pleasure in
driving between the fields of wheat, oats, and barley; but the
crop has been entirely ruined by the rain, and nothing is now to
be seen on the ground but the tarnished straw, and the rotten
spoils of the husbandman's labour. The ground scarce affords
subsistence to a few flocks of meagre sheep, that crop the
stubble, and the intervening grass; each flock under the
protection of its shepherd, with his crook and dogs, who lies
every night in the midst of the fold, in a little thatched
travelling lodge, mounted on a wheel-carriage. Here he passes the
night, in order to defend his flock from the wolves, which are
sometimes, especially in winter, very bold and desperate.
Two days ago we made an excursion with Mrs. B - and Capt. L - to
the village of Samers, on the Paris road, about three leagues
from Boulogne. Here is a venerable abbey of Benedictines, well
endowed, with large agreeable gardens prettily laid out. The
monks are well lodged, and well entertained. Tho' restricted from
flesh meals by the rules of their order, they are allowed to eat
wild duck and teal, as a species of fish; and when they long for
a good bouillon, or a partridge, or pullet, they have nothing to
do but to say they are out of order. In that case the appetite of
the patient is indulged in his own apartment. Their church is
elegantly contrived, but kept in a very dirty condition. The
greatest curiosity I saw in this place was an English boy, about
eight or nine years old, whom his father had sent hither to learn
the French language. In less than eight weeks, he was become
captain of the boys of the place, spoke French perfectly well,
and had almost forgot his mother tongue. But to return to the
people of Boulogne.
The burghers here, as in other places, consist of merchants,
shop-keepers, and artisans. Some of the merchants have got
fortunes, by fitting out privateers during the war.
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