[81] Religious parody seems to have carried no sense of impropriety with it to the minds of the men of the 15th and 16th centuries. Luther was an adept in this art, and the preachers who followed him continued the practice. The sermons of divines in the following century often sought an attraction by quaint titles, such as—"Heaven ravished"—"The Blacksmith, a sermon preached at Whitehall before the King," 1606. Beloe, in his Anecdotes of Literature, vol. 6, has recorded many of these quaint titles, among them the following:—"The Nail hit on the head, and driven into the city and cathedral wall of Norwich. By John Carter, 1644." "The Wheel turned by a voice from the throne of glory. By John Carter, 1647." "Two Sticks made one, or the excellence of Unity. By Matthew Mead, 1691." "Peter's Net let downe, or the Fisher and the Fish, both prepared towards a blessed haven. By R. Matthew, 1634." In the middle of the last century two religious tracts were published, one bearing the alarming title, "Die and be Damned," the other being termed, "A sure Guide to Hell." The first was levelled against the preaching of the Methodists, and the title obtained from what the author asserts to be the words of condemnation then frequently applied by them to all who differed from their creed. The second is a satirical attack on the prevalent follies and vices of the day, which form the surest "guide," in the opinion of the author, to the bottomless pit.
[82] The Scribleriad is a poem now scarcely known. It was a partial imitation of the Dunciad written by Richard Owen Cambridge, a scholar and man of fortune, who, in his residence at Twickenham, surrounded by friends of congenial tastes, enjoyed a life of literary ease. The Scribleriad is an attack on pseudo-science, the hero being a virtuoso of the most Quixotic kind, who travels far to discover rarities, loves a lady with the plica Polonica, waits three years at Naples to see the eruption of Vesuvius; and plays all kinds of fantastic tricks, as if in continual ridicule of The Philosophical Transactions, which are especially aimed at in the notes which accompany the poem. It achieved considerable notoriety in its own day, and is not without merit. It was published by Dodsley, in 1751, in a handsome quarto, with some good engravings by Boitard.
[83] Thomas Jordan, a poet of the time of Charles II., has the following specimen of a double acrostic, which must have occupied a large amount of labour. He calls it "a cross acrostick on two crost lovers." The man's name running through from top to bottom, and the female's the contrary way of the poem.
Though crost in our affections, still the flames
Of Honour shall secure our noble Names;
Nor shall Our fate divorce our faith, Or cause
The least Mislike of love's Diviner lawes.
Crosses sometimes Are cures, Now let us prove,
That no strength Shall Abate the power of love:
Honour, wit, beauty, Riches, wise men call
Frail fortune's Badges, In true love lies all.
Therefore to him we Yield, our Vowes shall be
Paid—Read, and written in Eternity:
That All may know when men grant no Redress,
Much love can sweeten the unhappinesS.
[84] The following example, barbarously made up in this way from passages in the Æneid and the Georgics, is by Stephen de Pleurre, and describes the adoration of the Magi. The references to each half line of the originals are given, the central cross marks the length of each quotation.
Tum Reges——
7 Æ · 98. Externi veniunt x quæ cuiq; est copia læti. 5 Æ · 100.
11 Æ · 333. Munera portantes x molles sua tura Sabæi. 1 G · 57.
3 Æ · 464. Dona dehinc auro gravia x Myrrhaque madentes. 12 Æ · 100.
9 Æ · 659. Agnovere Deum Regum x Regumque parentum. 6 Æ · 548.
1 G · 418. Mutavere vias x perfectis ordine votis. 10 Æ · 548.
[85] The old Poet, Gascoigne, composed one of the longest English specimens, which he says gave him infinite trouble. It is as follows:—
"Lewd did I live, evil I did dwel."
[86] We need feel little wonder at this when "The Book of Mormon" could be fabricated in our own time, and, with abundant evidence of that fact, yet become the Gospel of a very large number of persons.
[87] There are several instances of this ludicrous literal representation. Daniel Hopfer, a German engraver of the 16th century, published a large print of this subject; the scene is laid in the interior of a Gothic church, and the beam is a solid squared piece of timber, reaching from the eye of the man to the walls of the building. This peculiar mode of treating the subject may be traced to the earliest picture-books—thus the Ars Memorandi, a block-book of the early part of the 15th century, represents this figure of speech by a piece of timber transfixing a human eye.