by Charles Swan
A CERTAIN powerful lord sent his two sons to study, that they might, by their own assiduity, obtain a livelihood. After some time he sent letters to them, to command their return to their own country; and they returned accordingly. One of the brothers rejoiced at this, and was received with equal pleasure. He was, moreover, put in possession of a fair inheritance. But the other was much distressed at his recall. When his mother ran out to meet him, she kissed him, and while doing so bit off his lips. His sister, also, following the mother’s example, bit off his nose. His brother also put out his eyes; and the father, entering, caught him by the hair of his head and flayed him alive.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the rich lord is God, and the two sons are soul and body; the latter of which is unwilling to return to its native earth. The sister and brothers are toads and serpents, who devour the nose, eyes, &c.
* I omitted in its proper place to notice a fable somewhat similar in the Latin Æsop. It is as follows:—
“There was a young child which in his youth began to steal, and all that he did steal he brought to his mother, and the mother took it gladly, and would in no wise correct him; and after he had- stolen many things, he was taken and condemned to be hanged; and as men led him to the justice, his mother followed him and wept sore: and then the child prayed the justice that he might say somewhat to his mother, and having leave, he approached to her, and making as tho’ he would speak to her in her ear, with his teeth he bit off her nose: for which, when the judge blamed him, he answered him in this manner, My lord, she is the cause of my death, for if she had well chastised me, I had not come to this shame.”
This fable, it is true, has a different application, and the plot of it (so to speak) likewise varies; but the singular thought of biting off a person’s nose can have had but one origin.
TALE XCIV.
OF THE SOUL, WHICH BEING INFECTED WITH THE LEPROSY OF SIN, CANNOT RECOVER ITS ANCIENT BEAUTY, EXCEPT BY PENITENTIAL SIGHS AND TEARS.
A KING being desirous of visiting foreign countries, and possessing an only daughter of great beauty, indeed infinitely brighter than the sun, knew not into whose custody he might fearlessly consign her. At last he put her under the charge of his secretary, for whom he had the greatest regard. He commanded him to take every precaution, and especially to guard against her drinking of a singular fountain which sprung up in that country. For it had the property, although of a most exquisite flavour, of infecting with leprosy whosoever tasted it. The secretary, therefore, in order to restore her to her father as beautiful as when he departed, reflected much upon his precarious employment; remembering, at the same time, that if she were at all injured he should lose his office, and be unable to meet his master. For a while he watched his charge with extreme vigilance; but the lady having discovered the fountain, went so cunningly to work, that she drank of it, and was consequently infected with a loathsome disease. The secretary perceiving this, was filled with the most poignant grief, and carried her away to a desert region. There he found a hermit; and beating with his hands upon the door of his cell, related to him all that had happened, beseeching him to point out how she might be healed. “Go,” said the hermit, “to a mountain which I will show you: in that place you will discover a certain stone and a peculiar kind of rod. Take this rod, and strike the stone sharply, strongly, and boldly, until a moisture exudes from it. Anoint the lady with this liquid, and she will be presently restored to her original beauty.” The secretary strictly followed the hermit’s injunctions, and the lady became as she was before.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the king is Christ; the daughter is the soul, originally brighter than the sun. The fountain is the world, which infects it with sin. The recluse is the Church; the rod, penitence; and the moisture, the tears of a contrite heart.
TALE XCV.
OF CHRIST, WHO RESTORED OUR HEAVENLY INHERITANCE.
WE read in the Roman annals of a certain tyrant called Maxentius, who would have deprived the Romans of their paternal estates. Yielding to the cruelty of the tyrant, they fled to Constantine, king of Britain. At length, when many were assembled at his court, the emigrants stirred up the British monarch to revenge them upon the tyrant. Moved by their entreaties, Constantine mounted his horse, overthrew the tyrant, and restored the exiles to their inheritance.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the tyrant is the devil; and Constantine represents that God to whom the distressed should flee for succour.
* “I think there is the romance of Maxence, Constantine’s an tagonist.”—WARTON.
TALE XCVI.
OF THE LIFE PRESENT, WHICH IS A LIFE OF REMISSION AND GRACE.
KING Alexander placed a burning candle in his hall, and sent heralds through the whole kingdom, who made the following proclamation:—“If there be any under forfeiture to the king, and he will come boldly into his presence, while the candle bums, the king will forgive the forfeiture. And whosoever is in this predicament, and comes not before the expiration of the candle, he shall perish by an ignominous death.” Many of the populacer, hearing the proclamation, came to the king and besought his mercy. The king received them kindly; but there were many who neglected to come; and the very moment in which the candle expired, they were apprehended and put to death.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, Alexander is Christ, the burning candle is the life present, and the heralds are the preachers.
TALE XCVII.
OF DEATH.
WE read in the Roman chronicles that, about the twenty-second year from the building of the city, the people erected in the Forum a marble column, and on the top of it placed an image of Julius Cæsar.* Upon the head they inscribed his name, because it was erected in his honour. The same Julius Cæsar received three signs which were to happen at his death, or just before he was to die. On the hundredth day preceding this event, the effigy in the Forum was struck by lightning, and the first letter of his name erased. The very night before his death, the windows of his bed-chamber burst open with such a tremendous noise, that he thought the whole building had been overturned. And on the same day that he died, when about to go into the Capitol, letters were given him, declaring the danger in which he stood. If he had read them he would have been saved.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, God does thus with mankind. We receive many warnings, but not attending to them are eternally destroyed.
* A very singular anachronism; but for what reason (save that of ignorance!) chronology has been so much violated, it is not easy to conceive. There does not appear any necessity for fixing the date.
TALE XCVIII.
OF CONCILIATING GOD WHILST WE HAVE OPPORTUNITY.
THE Romans had an ancient custom, that when they besieged a castle or city, they lighted a single candle of a certain length; and as long as it burnt, they were prepared to receive overtures of peace, however vile the proposer. But after it was consumed they exercised the severest justice upon their enemies, nor could any one then be redeemed even by the sacrifice of all he was worth.*
APPLICATION.
My beloved, God thus treats sinners. For the soul, when beset by vices, has an opportunity of procuring peace as long as the light of life burns.
* This apologue is very similar to Tale XCVI.
TALE XCIX.
OF CHRIST’S MANLY CONTEST AND VICTORY.
IN the reign of Cæsar there lived a noble and valiant knight, who once rode by a certain forest, and beheld a serpent engaging with a toad.† The latter obtained the mastery; which when the knight saw, he assisted the serpent; and grievously wounding the toad, reduced it to seek safety in flight. But the conqueror was also affected by the toad’s venom. The knight turned homeward, and for a long time lay sick of his wound. At last he made his will and prepared himself for death. Now, as he reclined near the fire, utterly hopeless of life, the serpent which he had preserved entered the apartment. When the attendants beheld it, they said, “My lord, my lord, a serpent
has entered the room!” When the knight saw it, he recollected that it was the same he had aided in its contest with the toad, and through which he was laid upon his bed incurable. “Do not molest it,” said the knight, “I do not believe that it will harm me.” The serpent glided towards him, and applying its tongue to the wound, sucked up the poison till its mouth was quite full; and then, hastening to the door, cast it out. It returned twice to the wound, and did as before, until the venom was exhausted. The knight commanded milk to be given to the serpent, which it instantly drank; and no sooner had it done so, than the toad from which the wound had been received, entered, and again attacked the serpent, in revenge for its having healed the knight. The latter seeing this, said to his servants, “Without doubt, my friends, this is the toad which I wounded in defence of that serpent, and from which I derive all my infirmity. If it conquer, it will attack me; therefore, as ye love your master, kill it incontinently.” The servants, obedient to the knight’s command, slew it with swords and clubs; while the serpent, as if to praise and thank its defender, twined around his feet, and then departed. The knight completely recovered his health.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is God; the knight, Christ ; the toad is the devil, and the serpent, man.
† “The stories, perhaps fabulous, of the serpent fighting with his inveterate enemy, the weasel, who eats rue before the attack begins; and of the serpent fighting with, and being killed by the spider, originate from Pliny, Nat. Hist. x. 84, xx. 13.”—WARTON.
TALE C.
OF CHRIST, WHO IS LONG-SUFFERING AND MERCIFUL.
WHEN Diocletian reigned, he decreed that whatsoever woman committed adultery should be put to death. It happened that a certain knight married a girl and had a son by her. The child grew, and every one loved him. After a while his father went out to battle, and, fighting manfully, was deprived of his right arm. In the mean time his wife lost her honour; and the husband, on his return, discovering the shame, ought, according to law, to have put her to death. Calling his son, therefore, he said, “My dear boy, your mother has committed adultery, and by law should die by my hand; but I have lost my arm, and am unable to destroy her. I command you to do this.” The son answered, “The law enjoins children to honour their parents; and if I were to slay my own mother, I should act contrary to the law, and bring down her curse on myself. Therefore in this I cannot obey you.” So the woman was saved from death by her son.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, the emperor is God; the knight, Christ; and the wife, the soul. If the soul err, the law of God commands its death. Christ fights against the devil, and loses an arm; that is, all the austerity which was His previous to his incarnation.
TALE CI.
OF WORLDLY EVIL AND DISTRESS.
WE read of a certain man, named Ganter, who wished that his pleasures might never end. He got up one morning, and walked until he came to a kingdom in which the prince was lately deceased. The noblemen observing that he was a bold man, chose him for their king.* He was, of course, much elevated with the election. But at night, when the servants brought him into his chamber, he perceived at the head of the bed a very fierce lion; a dragon was at the foot; on the right side, a huge bear; and serpents and toads on the left. “What is all this?” asked Ganter; “am I to sleep in company with all these beasts?” “Yes, my lord,” was the reply; “for all the former kings have done so, and by these beasts have been devoured.” “That is all very fine,” returned Ganter, “but as I feel no relish for either the bed or the beasts, I will not be your king.” He therefore went his way, and came into another kingdom, where, in like manner, he was called to the throne. At night he entered the bed-chamber, and beheld a very superb couch, full of sharp razors. “What!” exclaimed he, “am I to sleep in this bed?” “Even so, my lord,” replied the attendants; “for in this bed all our kings have laid, and have perished.” “Why,” said Ganter, “everything is excellent, except this bed; but because of this I will not be your sovereign.” In the morning he again departed, and travelled for three days alone. On the way he saw an old man sitting above a fountain. His hand contained a staff, and when our traveller approached, he said, “My dear Ganter, whence come you?” “I come,” he replied, “from foreign countries.” “And where are you going?” “To seek three things which I cannot find.” “What are they?” “The first,” said Ganter, “is unfailing plenty; the second, joy without sorrow; and the third, light without darkness.” “Take this staff,” said the old man, “and go thy way. Before you is a high mountain, and at its foot a ladder with six steps. Go up it, and when you have attained the sixth, you will be at the top of the mountain. There you will discover a magnificent palace; strike three times at the gate, and the porter will answer you. Show him the staff, and say, ‘The master of the staff commands you to admit me.’ When you have gained admittance, you will find the three things which you seek.” Ganter did as the old man desired; and the porter, seeing the staff, permitted him to enter. He found what he had sought, and much more; and there he continued during the residue of his life.
APPLICATION.
My beloved, Ganter is any good Christian, who seeks eternal life. The first bed is human life, with its various attendant evils: do not rest there. The second is hell, with its torments—and, oh! avoid that. Take the staff of penitence, and climb by the ladder of holiness unto a heavenly place, whose porter is divine goodness.*
* Perhaps this part of the story may arise in the classical tale of Gordius, who was similarly raised to the throne. See Justin. ii. c. 7.
* “In a more confined sense, the first part of this apologue may be separately interpreted to signify that a king, when he enters on his important charge, ought not to suppose himself to succeed to the privilege of an exemption from care, and to be put into the immediate possession of the highest pleasures, conveniences, and felicities of life; but to be sensible, that from that moment, he begins to encounter the greatest dangers and difficulties.”—WARTON.
TALE CII.
OF THE TRANSGRESSIONS AND WOUNDS OF THE SOUL.
IN the reign of Titus there lived a certain noble and devout knight, who had a beautiful wife; but she dishonoured herself, and persisted in her dishonour. The knight, therefore, was very sorrowful, and resolved to visit the Holy Land. In this determination he said to his wife, “My beloved, I go to the Holy Land, and leave you to the guidance of your own discretion.” No sooner had he embarked than the lady sent for a certain skilful necromancer, whom she loved; and he dwelt with her. It happened that, as they lay in bed, the lady observed, “If you would do one thing for me, I might become your wife.” “What is it,” replied he, “that will please you, and which I can perform for you ?”
“My husband is gone to the Holy Land, and loves me little; now, if by your art you could destroy him, all that I possess is yours.” “I acquiesce,” said the clerk, “but on condition that you marry me.” To this the lady bound herself, and the necromancer fashioned an image under the similitude and name of the knight, and fixed it before him on the wall.
In the mean time, while the knight was passing through the main street of Rome, a wise master met him in the way, and observing him narrowly, said, “My friend, I have a secret to communicate.”
“Well, master, what would you please to say?”
“This day you are one of death’s children, unless you follow my advice: your wife is a harlot, and contrives your death.” The knight, hearing what was said of his spouse, put confidence in the speaker, and said, “Good master, save my life, and I will amply recompense you.” “Willingly,” answered the other, “if you will do as I shall tell you.” The knight promised, and the master took him to a bath, undressed him, and desired him to bathe. Then putting into his hand a polished mirror, said, “Look attentively upon this, and you will see wonders.” He did so, and the meanwhile the master read to him from a book. “What see you?” he asked. “I see,” said the knight, “a certain clerk in my house, with an ima
ge of wax which resembles me, and which he has fastened in the wall.” “Look again,” continued the master; “what do you perceive now?”
“He takes a bow, and places in it a sharp arrow; and now he aims at the effigy.”
“As you love your life, the moment you discern the arrow flying to its mark, place yourself in the bath, and remain there until I tell you to come out.”
As soon, therefore, as the arrow quitted the string, he plunged his body into the water. This done, the master said, “Raise your head and look into the mirror. What do you perceive now?” “The effigy is not struck, and the arrow is sticking by its side. The clerk appears much concerned.” “Look in the mirror once more,” said the master, “and observe what he does.” “He now goes nearer to the image, and refixes the arrow in the string in order to strike it.”
“As you value your life, do as before.”
Again the knight plunged his body into the water as soon as he saw by the mirror that the clerk was bending the bow; and then, at the command of the master, resuming his inspection of the mirror, said—
“The clerk makes great lamentation, and says to my wife, ‘If the third time I do not strike the effigy, I shall lose my life.’ Now he approaches so near that I think he cannot miss it.”
