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The Ceremony of taking t/ie Had Veil. 183

AH this time the nuns continue to ling; the have likewise taken notice of the nuns having is then conducted, for the last time, to the candles, without informing the reader whe^ grate, where she kneels down and receives her ther they were lighted or not. It may, therecandle. At the fame time her crucifix is fore, be proper to explain the institution of taken away, and stie continues kneeling while candles in this place, and shew why the relithe nuns sing the hymn of thanksgiving, gious make so much use of them in their called Te Deum laudamus. The hymn being' churches and ceremonies, and afterwards, to* finistied, she rises and bows to the altar; she set forth the benefit obtained by their being then retires to the sacristi, or parlour, to see blessed. First, candles are placed on their aland spe.ik to her relations, friends and ac- tars in churches, to the honour and glory of cjuainunce. The curtain being then drawn, Jesus Christ, as these lights are emblems of. and the grate shut, all the nuns in general re- joy, being figurative types of the glory of Jesuatire to their apartments. Christ, and denote the light of faith. SeAt this procession, as at the ceremony of condly, when they carry their candles lirhted. the white veil, the nuns have three days re- in their hands, and these are blessed, the meancreation, and all the diversions that the auste- ing of this is, that they beg of God that such rity of a convent will allow of. The new- as religiously use them may obtain his blessing,, made nun is under an indispensable obligation and the licht of his countenance*, though the to treat her fister-nuns just as at the former candles which they carry in their hands do not ceremony. Upon this occasion, she is obliged receive a formal benediction, hue are accountto repair again to the novice-house, and reside ed blessed, inasmuch as they are dedicated to there during two years, for her farther instruc- God and the service of religion. ,• tion. During the time of her noviciate, These are the reasons assigned me by a priest}. which lasts three years, one of which passes and I am inclined to think, that they are acbetween the time of her taking the white veil cording to the true spirit of the Roman-Caand the black, and the other two follow the tholic religion, and that this is the true meanlatter ceremony, (he is only called sister; but ing of these candles, when they are used in when her noviciate is expired, slie receives the their religious ceremonies. At these procesappelladon of mother. Cons, and the times of receiving the sacrament,.

As I have often taken notice of the nuns as well as upon some remarkable holidays,

being in rows, I shall here explain the man- they open a part of their grate about eighteen'

her in which these are ranged in the choir to inches square, opposite' to which the offioiatinir

the reader. The choir is a large square room, priest is seated. At this place the nun kneels,'

with feats on each side, and fronting their' as has been already observed. However, if

altar. Each nun has her peculiar seat allotted this aperture was not made, the grate is so

her, according to the time of her residence in large, that all in the church can see whatever

the convent. The oldest sits next to the su~ palies in the choir. • •■

perior, and the rest are placed according to Thus far I have been as particular as possi-

seniority, to the youngest, who .is placed at ble in every thing relative to these ceremonies,

the bottom of the choir. On the left-hand which I am the better able to describe, as I

side of the choir, as you look through the was an eye-witness of them. For the several

grate, stands the superior, with a row of nuns explanations here given, I am beholden to the

ranged in regular order to the bottom. On religious and ecclesiastics. The reader may,

the right-hand side sits the second superior at depend upon it, that I have omitted no parti

the head of another row ranged in the same culars worth his knowledge, nor shall I insert,

manner. Each row ends with the youngest any thing from hear-say: 1 must therefore pass

nuns, and those that wear the white veils, by several proceffion-days which happen in.

Behind the nuns are seated the boarders, I the winter-season. If any of my explanation!:

mean such as are grown up: the little ones, of the religious practices of the church of

who are pretty numerous during apeace, as at Rome mould prove to be erroneous, I hope

present, are placed in a corner, on the right- the fault will be laid to the charge of the Ro

hand fide, and close to the grate. By this miih ecclesiastics, to whom I always applied

method of ranging the nuns and boarders, upon such occasions. The form of a nun's

which is followed in all convents, a larger va- lying in state I shall nextprocced to give, which*

cant place is left in the midst of the choir, the reader will find to be very remarkable an4

and every nun and boarder may be easily interesting,

seen by any person through the grate. J [ To hi centirtutd. J

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A wry extraordinary Dedication of Denzil Holies, Baron of Infield, to Oliver St. John, the Sollicitor-General, and Oliver Cromwell the Parliament's

Lieutenant-General, and after-wards Protester. 'Together •with a remarkable Anecdote of his Intrepidity.

T7XAMPLES of Intrepidity, when accom- you coxened the world) and resumed your own j panied with loyaltv, cast a lustre upon imparting each to other, and both of you to high birth* They should not be suffered to your fellrw-ivitches, the bottom of your desleep in obHvion, in an age which seems fonder signs, the policy of your actings, the turns of of the name, than the enjoyment of freedom, your contrivances, all your selfhoods, coxenHe, therefore, who draws instances of this ings, villanies, and cruelties, with your full nature, from inglorious obscurity, should be intentions to ruin the three kingdoms. All I looked upon as a true friend of his country, will fay to you, is no more than what St Peter For it is not possible for men of noble souls to said to Simon the Sorcerer, Resent, there. read of an heroic action without kindling fire, of this your wickedness, and pray God, if with a congenial flame, and noble emulation, perhaps the thoughts of your hearts may be firThese reflections are owing to the perusal of a given you. And if you have not grace to pray dedication of Denzil Holies, which breathes fur yourselves (as it may be you have no:} I with true patriotic fire, and shews an intre- have charity to do it for you, but not faith pid'ty which no miseries could extinguish, no enough to trust you. difficult.'es could abate. That your readers So I remain, shay participate with me in my pleasure, \ I thank God, not in your power, have transcribed it verbatim; and doubt not And as little at your service, but the scarcity of the work, to which it is Denzil Holies." prefixed, will vindicate my officiousness from At S. Mere Egtide in Normandy, the charge of unfiasonableness or futility* this i^th of Feb. 1647, Sf.

To the unparallelled couple, Mr. Oliver This addrds is a specimen of the intrepidity

St. John, his majesty's follicitor-general, and o{ thc celebrated Hoiks. His indignation was

Mr. Oliver Cromwell, the parliament's lieu- that of * true P«not, indisputably just and

tenant-seneral, the two grand designers of the noble' H,s ""tepidity was not confined to hit

ruin of three kingdoms. writings, but (hone forth in his actions. We

will produce one instance to confirm this asler

Gentlemen, tion; andwedoitthemorewillinglv, asoutof

"A'you have been principal in miniftring many it will not only be subservient to the il

of the matter of this discourse, and giving lustration of this hero's character, but like

tne the leisure of making it, by banishing^ me wise conduce to the pleasure of the reader.

from my country and business,,so it is reason I One day, in a very'hot debate in rhe house,

fliould particularly address it to you. You find some rude expressions having fallen from Ireton,

in it some representation of the grosser lines of Holies persuaded him to walk out with him,

your features, those outward enormities, that and then told him, a that he insisted upon his

snake you remarkable, and your pictures easy crossing the water immediately to fijht him."

to be known, which cannot be expected here Ireton replying, " that his confne'nre would

so fully to the life as \ could wisti. He only nut suffer him to fight a duelHolies was in

can do that, whose eye and hand have been so great a passion, that he pulled him by the

with you in secret councils; who has seen you nose, and told him, that " if his conscience

at your meetings, your Sabbaths, where you would keep him from giving men fatisfaffiot,

have laid by your assumed shapes (with which it Ihould keep him from provoking them.""

Remarkable Instance of a strong Memory.

\/f E N, who are born with great talents, are ^ regarded with wonder; and every anecdote relating to them carries with it something of astonishment. The works of bishop Jewel have already recommended1 him to the efteem of the friends of protestantism; but the strength of his memory excites ous admiration. Tins faculty was naturally strong, but he increased its strength very much bv art. He seldom forgot any remarkable thing that

he heard; and generally entered it in his common-place-book. He could repeat exactly whatever he had written after a single perasal. During the tin;ing us the bell, he got a repetition sirmr.n by heart, a~.d delivered it at church, without thc least hesitation. His custom was to write only the brads of his discourses, thc oilier part being s. strongly imprinted on his mind, that he frequently said, "If t^n thousand pLojilc were quarrelling On the Study of Medicine, fartieularly in treating the Gout. 1S5

•r sighting, all the.while he was preaching, they could not put him out.** To try hisabilify this way, Dr. Parkhurst proposed some of the most difficult and barbarous words in a calendar; and John Hooper, bishop of Gloucester, forty Welch, Irish, and foreign Words; but after reading them only once, and a short recollection, he repeated them all by heart, backward and forward. And, in the year 1563, Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord-keeper, having read to him the latter part of ten lines out of Erasmus's paraphrase, in a confused and imperfect manner, he sat silent a little while, »nd, covering his face with his hand, imme

diately rehearsed all those broken parcels of sentences, in the direct and contrary way, without any hesitation. What is still more surprising, he professed to teach this art to others, and he taught it his tutor, Dr. Parkhurst, at Zurich, who in the space of twentyeight days, applying himself only one hour each day, learned all the twenty eight-chapters of St. Matthew's Gospel, so perfectly, that he could repeat any verse in it, if he knew what went before, and whatsollowed it. Non it a pridtm e .

To the Public in general, and Physicians in particular.

A MIDST the various pursuits of mankind, **■ towards the attainment of useful knowledge, the Study of Medicine has been held in the highest estimation by the wife of all ages; as it more immediately concerns the welfare, ease, and duration of the human frame. And yet notwithstanding so many of the learned have engaged in this beneficial study, and been happy enough to discover variety oyf remedies in variety of maladies, it must be confessed, that many diseases have still eluded their most diligent investigation. This defect in the science, I apprehend, might more easily be removed, would the learned divest themselves of that prejudice, which they conceive against the lets-learned of the faculty. The meanest reptile is of use, and the tiny glow-worm affords some light and comfort to the benighted traveller. In shore, if a perfect knowledge of the learned languages was essential to the study and practice of Physic, we had not been indebied to a Sutton for his late most Valuable discoveries relative to the Small-Pox.

Having.premifed thus much, it will be proper to acquaint the public, that the Gout— the opprobrium of physic—has been my peculiar study for a long series of years, during which 1 have proved, by unerring practice, that it is as easily relieved, as any other, less formidable, disease, and by means agreeable to the laws of nature and the dictates of reason—by ger.tii fcrjfiraiien. For wise nature in this, as in most other diseases, endeavours so relieve herself bur expelling the morbific matter through the pores of the skin. To assist her in this most salutary effort, I have discovered a medicine which has'not once failed in removing the severest attacks of the Gout, without offering the least violence to the constitution. As the truth of this assertion can be fully proved, it would be generous to me,, and humane to their gouty patients, if tbe gentlemen of the faculty would enquire irr.o the validity of it. But if the attestation

of many gentlemen of rank and integrity will not suffice, and they should rather be disposed to receive occular proof of the efficacy of my medicine, I am fa little fearful of its'failure, that I should take it as a favour if they would administer it in my presence, in some severe viscera gout, and I will be answerable for the consequence at the hazard of my reputation, which is as precious to me as life itself.—The late celebrated Dr. Schomberg was so well convinced of its salutary effects, that he generousty offered to recommend the use of it in the course of his extensive practice; provided I would acquaint him with the composition, and suffer it to be published at my decease. But sure a discovery so valuable merited a mote* considerable recompence! The composition of it consists of a more numerous collection of herbs, Mowers, roots, and feeds, than any other medicine directed by the Dispensatory, and is regularly prepared and compounded agreeable to the art of an Apothecary, of which body I have been a member almost half a century. This medicine, by its cordial nature, diffuses a salutary warmth through the solids and fluids, dissolves the principles of the disease, and plentifully discharges the peccant humours by reviving sweats and urine. It renders irregular attacks of the Gout regular, the fits few and short, promotes the work of digestion, strengthens the nerves, secures the whole viscera from gouty invasions, and the joints from contractions. Moreover, it prevents the stone and gravel, dropsy, palsy and jaundice, too frequently complicated with the gout, and caused by other medicinet, which break and destroy the texture aud healthy consistence of the blood, already too cold, and too much impoverilhed by the disease itself.It has no connection with any part of the present practice; such as opium, antimony# mercury, soap, camphire, bark, piperine ingredients, or any one article which can possibly prej udice the construction. These, however, I perceive, are frequently made use of in large doses, to alleviate the pang« of this excruciating distemper, along with cathartics, fontanels, and phlebotomy—but I have no more to fay. The grave covers all faults. Dead men can tell no tales. "Fælix quern faciunt allena pericula cautum." Wife Providence has not left us destitute of relief, as some do craftily andimpioufly suggest, did we not overlook, the surprising virtues of the vegetable creation. Almost every field produces admirable remedies in meer Jimples; which, rightly managed, might perform wonders in this, as well as in other painful disorders. But if through prevailing obstinacy on the one part, and chicanery on the other, beneficial discoveries in medicine are flighted, probably because the discoverer may not be dignified with a diploma (whicli, by-the-by, is not very disticult to obtain) we need not be surprised that so many of the illustrious great fall, untimely, martyrs to the Gout; who might otherwise, by proper application, have lived long, a comfort to their friends, and a blessing' to their country. Notwithstanding what I have already advanced, concerning my medi

cine, and the proof of its efficacy, like Tre-jaii* Cassandra, I am not to be believed till it be* too late j I have or\ly to fay, that s (an arthritic myself) am ready to take dose for dose" with any gentleman of eminence; and, upon proper security, to discover the composition to him j by which it will manifestly appear, that there is nothing in the whole Materia Medica more inossensive in other refpectsj or so proper for this excruciating disease. v

To conclude: having spent the most valuable part of my life in promoting the ease and comfort of every individual under my care,' X am now desirous of retiring from' Business, and to transfer the admirable means of relieving the most miserable objects of the human* race to more active capacities. I am, therefore, willing to discover, and assign over, my medicine to any gentleman of the faculty, who may be inclined to advance a reward pr<fcportionable to the value of—what may be termed—a firm freehold, as it is not m the power of the most inquisitive Chymist to analyse its composition. rork-B«WnghUndo«, R drake

Nov. 5, 1768.

An Ex trail of the Will of Robert Dudley, Baron of Denbigh, Son of John Duke of Northumberland, and Brother to Ambrose Earl of Warwick.


rP HE reflections you favoured us with, in "* No. III. p. 102, relating to the private manner in which the late archbishop or" Canterbury was buried, and the curious extract from the will of the rev. Mr. Hales, have given us great pleasure. I herein have inclosed an extract from a will no less singular: and, without copying the title of this letter, give it you in the words of the original.

"This is the last will and testament of me Robert earl of Leicester, her majesty's lieutenant-general of all her forces in the Low Countries, and governor and captain-general of all the United Provinces, written with bit Ki>n hand, the first of August, in Middlebomugh, 175?. First, I take it to be the part of every true Christian to make a true testimony of his faith at all times,'and especially in such a case, and at such a time, as this is. And, therefore, I do mean here faithfully to make a sliort declaration, to testify in what faith I do live and depart from this world, through the grace of my Lord and Saviour to continue me in the fame till the separation of this life and body. And so I do acknowledge my creation and being to be had and continued by the providence of our Almighty God, the creator of all things both in heaven and earth; m>j 10 confess, that above all deeds, that hit

divine Majesty in the gift of his blefl'ed funChrist Jesus to be' the Redeemer and Saviour of his people that be faithfully, by whose only merits and passion, I verily believe, and most assured of, the forgiveness of all my. fins, be they never so great or infinite j and that' he only is the sufficient' sacrifice that hath appeased the wrath of his Father, and that biesled Lamb, which innocently suffered all torments, to bear the bitter burden due to us miserable! wretches, for his most tender compassion over all that have grace to believe on him: all which his Grace's goodness and mercy i most; faithfully take hold on, being so promised'By himself, who is the only truth itself, that J am the child of salvation, and to be the inheritor of his everlasting kingdom, and to meet with him at the joyful day of resurrection, with all the faithful children and saints of God. In this faith I now live, and in this faith I trust to change this life, with continua] prayer to the throne of grace to grant me, during this pilgrimage of mine, a true, humble and penitent heart for the due recognition of all my offences, and the willing amendment of the fame, and to fly instantly to the sure anker-bold, my Lord and Saviour Christ Jesus^ to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be all honour, gipry and dominion, for ever, Amsn,

-■, - - <( Thus, "Thus, being in perfect health and memory f a'riH having set down'my'faith as a true Christian, and being uncertain of the hour of 'death, I think it my part to settle my worldly matters in as good estate as I can; especially being hastily and suddenly sent over, and likewise having very little leisure since my arrival 'to get any time for my private business. But First, my will is, to commit this wretched body of mine, when it shall please God to separate it from the soul, to the order of my dear friends that (hall be livinf, as my executors and my overseer?, of this my last will and 'testament, and they to take such orders for the burial of my body, as they shall think meet, always requiring, that it may be done with as little pomp or •vain expences of the world as may be, being persuaded, that there is no more vain expences than that is: a convenient tomb or monument I wish there should be. And for the place where my body should lie, it is hard to appoint, and I know not how convenient it is to desire it; but I have always wished, as my dear wife doth know, and some "of my friends, that it might be at Warwick, where sundry of my ancestors do lie; either so, or elsewhere, the queen's majesty shall command: for as it was, when it had life, a most faithful, true, loving servant unto her, so living, and so dead, let the body be at her gracious determination, if it shall so please her. Touching my bequests, they cannot be great, by reason my ability and power is little, for I have not dissembled with the world my estate, but have lived always above any living I had (for which I am heartily sorry) lest, that through my many debts from time to time, some men have taken loss by me. My desire therefore is, and I do charge my executors to have due consideration, that if any person shall justly after my decease, make such complaint, that they shall be satisfied, as far as it shall be found, in any equity, it is due unto them, •with advantage to them. Besides, I do hereby appoint my most dear well-beloved wife, the countess of Leicester, to be my sole executrix of this my last will and testament, and do require her, for all true love between us, that she will not only be content to take it upon her, but also to see it faithfully and carefully performed. And albeit there may many imperfections be found with the making of this will, for that I am no lawyer, nor have any counsel with me to place things in such form as some are able, yet as my true meaning Is, I trust, to express, that accordingly it may

txtraS os the Will os Rbbert Dudkj, "Baron of Denhigh.

be interpreted, for I mean to make it as plant as I can. And first of all, before arid above all persons, it is my duty to remember me most dear and most gracious sovereign, whose creature, under God, I have been, and wh6 hath been a most bountiful and princely mistress unto me, as well in advancing me to many honours, as in maintaining me many ways by her goodness and liberality. And, as my best recompence to her most excellent majesty can be, from so mean a man, chiefly in prayer to God; so, whilst there wai anj breath in this body, 1 never sailed it, even a* for my own soul. And aj it was my greatest joy in my life-time to serve her to her cont» tentation, se it is not unwelcome to me, being the will of God, to die and end this life for her service. And yet, albeit I am not able to make any piece of recompence of her great goodness, yet will I presume to present unto her a token of aa humble and a faithful heart, as the least that ever I can send her; and with this prayer withal, that it may please the Almighty God,1 not only to make her the oldest princess that ever he gave over England, but to make her the godlieft, the virtitouleft, and the worthier}, in his sight, that ever he gave over any nation. That she may indeed be a blessed mother and nurse to this people, and church of England: which the Almighty God grant for his Christ's fake 1 The token that I db bequeath unto her majesty, is the jewel with three great emeralds, with a fablarge table-diamond in the midst, without a foil, and set about with many diamonds without foil, and a rope of fair white pearl, to the number of six hundred, to hang the said jewel at, which pearl and jewel was once proposed for her majesty against a coming to Wanstead; but it now must thus be disposed: which I do pray you, my dear wife, see performed, and delivered to some of those, whom I shall hereafter nominate and appoint to be my overseers for her majesty, &c."

It is very remarkable, that notwithstanding this legacy, and the strong attachment the earl professed for her majesty, yet queen Elizabeth suffered his goods to be sold, after his death, to discharge a .debt due to the crown, agreeably to a standing maxim, from which she never receded, the maxim of remitting t» no one the claims upon them from her treasury.

I am, Gentlemen,

Nrt. 9, 1768.

A real Graduate of Oxford,

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