like the rest of us he seeks an external savior.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: external, savior, seeking-salvation 2 likes like “in Parsifal: "You see, my son, here time turns into space.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 2 likes like “They ought to make it a binding clause that if you find God you get to keep Him.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: god, humor 2 likes like “Era come se avessi tremato per tutta la vita, a causa di una cronica corrente sotterranea di paura. Tremare, scappare, finire nei guai, perdere le persone che amavo. Come un personaggio dei cartoni animati invece di una persona, mi resi conto. Un cartone animato degli anni Trenta, ammuffito. Dietro a tutto quello che avevo fatto c'era sempre stata la paura di spingermi.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: dick, fear, italiano, paura, valis 1 likes like “What you should do," she told Fat during one of his darker hours, "is get into studying the characteristics of the T-34." Fat asked what that was. It turned out that Sherri had read a book on Russion armor during World War Two. The T-34 tank had been the Soviet Union's salvation and thereby the salvation of all the Allied Powers- and, by extension, Horselover Fat's, since without the T-34 he would be speaking - not english or Latin or the koine - but German.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: history, language 1 likes like “I've always told people that for each person there is a sentence--a series of words--which has the power to destroy him. When Fat told me about Leon Stone I realized (this came years after the first realization) that another sentence exists, another series of words, which will heal the person. If you're lucky you will get the second; but you can be certain of getting the first: that is the way it works.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: healing, mental-illness, words-have-power 1 likes like “Fat heard in her rational tone the harp of nihilism, the twang of the void.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 1 likes like “terms of those who loved her. She paid back their love with—well, with what? Malice? Not proven. Hate? Not proven. With the irrational? Yes; proven. In terms of the effect on her friends—such as Fat—no lucid purpose was served but purpose there was: purpose without purpose, if you can conceive of that. Her motive was no motive. We're talking about nihilism. Under everything else, even under death itself” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 0 likes like “Matter is plastic in the face of Mind.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: insanity, matter, mind 0 likes like “Sometimes I dream--" "I'll put that on your gravestone.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 0 likes like “Dr. Leon Stone turned out to be one of the most important people in Horselover Fat's life. To get to Stone, Fat had to nearly kill himself physically, matching his mental death. Is this what they mean about God's mysterious ways? How else could Fat have linked up with Leon Stone? Only some dismal act of the order of a suicide attempt, a truly lethal attempt, would have achieved it; Fat had to die, or nearly die, to be cured. Or nearly cured.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 0 likes like “I think," Dr. Stone said, "that when you tried to kill yourself you got in touch with reality for the first time.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 0 likes like “The first thing that went wrong, according to Fat, had to do with the radio. Listening to it one night- he had not been able to sleep for a long time- he heard the radio saying hideous words, sentences which it could not be saying. Beth, being asleep, missed that. So that could have been Fat's mind breaking down; by then his psyche was disintegrating at a terrible velocity. Mental illness is not funny.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS 0 likes like “Pious people spoke to God, and crazy people imagined that God spoke back.” ― Philip K. Dick, VALIS tags: faith, faithfulness, religion 0 likes like “Masochism is more widespread than we realize because it takes an attenuated form. The basic dynamism is as follows: a human being sees something bad which is coming as inevitable. There is no way he can halt the process; he is helpess. This sense of helplessness generates a need to gain some control over the impending pain -- any kind of control will do. This makes sense; the subjective feeling of helplessness is more painful than the impending misery. So the person seizes control over the situation in the only way open to him: he connives to bring on the impending misery; he hastens it. This activity on his part promotes the false impression that he enjoys pain. Not so. It is simply that he cannot any longer endure the helplessness or the supposed helplessness. But in the process of gaining control over the inevitable misery he becomes, automatically, anhedonic. Anhedonia sets in stealthily. Over the years it takes control of him. For example, he learns to defer gratification; this is a step in the dismal process of anhedonia. In learning to defer he gratification he experiences a sense of self-mastery; he has become stoic, disciplined; he does not give way to impulse. He has "control". Control over himself in terms of his impulses and control over the external situation. He is a controlled and controlling person. Pretty soon he has branched out and is controlling other people, as part of the situation. He becomes a manipulator. Of course, he is not conciousily aware of this; all he intends to do is lessen his own sense of impotence. But in his task of lessening this sense, he insidiously overpowers the freedom of others. Yet, he dervies no pleasure from this, no positive psychological gain; all his gains are essential negative.”

A DERANGED MIND SOMETIMES IS A GOOD THING

ASK TO VASCO DA GAMA

Fludd moreover declared, that the magnet was a remedy for all diseases, if properly applied; but that man having, like the earth, a north and a south pole, magnetism could only take place when his body was in a boreal position! In the midst of his popularity, an attack was made upon him and his favourite remedy, the salve; which, however, did little or nothing to diminish the belief in its efficacy. One “Parson Foster” wrote a pamphlet, entitled Hyplocrisma Spongus; or, a Spunge to wipe away the Weapon-Salve; in which he declared, that it was as bad as witchcraft to use or recommend such an unguent; that it was invented by the Devil, who, at the last day, would seize upon every person who had given it the slightest encouragement. “In fact,” said Parson Foster, “the Devil himself gave it to Paracelsus; Paracelsus to the emperor; the emperor to the courtier; the courtier to Baptista Porta; and Baptista Porta to Dr. Fludd, a doctor of physic, yet living and practising in the famous city of London, who now stands tooth and nail for it.” Dr. Fludd, thus assailed, took up the pen in defence of his unguent, in a reply called The Squeezing of Parson Foster’s Spunge; wherein the Spunge-bearer’s immodest carriage and behaviour towards his brethren is detected; the bitter flames of his slanderous reports are, by the sharp vinegar of truth, corrected and quite extinguished; and lastly, the virtuous validity of his spunge in wiping away the-weapon-salve, is crushed out and clean abolished.

Shortly after this dispute a more distinguished believer in the weapon-salve made his appearance in the person of Sir Kenelm Digby, the son of Sir Everard Digby, who was executed for his participation in the Gunpowder Plot. This gentleman, who, in other respects, was an accomplished scholar and an able man, was imbued with all the extravagant notions of the alchymists. He believed in the philosopher’s stone, and wished to engage Descartes to devote his energies to the discovery of the elixir of life, or some other means by which the existence of man might be prolonged to an indefinite period. He gave his wife, the beautiful Venetia Anastasia Stanley, a dish of capons fed upon vipers, according to the plan supposed to have been laid down by Arnold of Villeneuve, in the hope that she might thereby preserve her loveliness for a century. If such a man once took up the idea of the weapon-salve, it was to be expected that he would make the most of it. In his hands, however, it was changed from an unguent into a powder, and was called the powder of sympathy. He pretended that he had acquired the knowledge of it from a Carmelite friar, who had learned it in Persia or Armenia, from an oriental philosopher of great renown. King James, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Buchingham, and many other noble personages, believed in its efficacy. The following remarkable instance of his mode of cure was read by Sir Kenelm to a society of learned men at Montpellier. Mr. James Howell, the well-known author of the Dendrologia, and of various letters, coming by chance as two of his best friends were fighting a duel, rushed between them and endeavoured to part them. He seized the sword of one of the combatants by the hilt, while, at the same time, he grasped the other by the blade. Being transported with fury one against the other, they struggled to rid themselves of the hindrance caused by their friend; and in so doing, the one whose sword was held by the blade by Mr. Howell, drew it away roughly, and nearly cut his hand off, severing the nerves and muscles, and penetrating to the bone. The other, almost at the same instant, disengaged his sword, and aimed a blow at the head of his antagonist, which Mr. Howell observing, raised his wounded hand with the rapidity of thought to prevent the blow. The sword fell on the back of his already wounded hand, and cut it severely. “It seemed,” said Sir Kenelm Digby, “as if some unlucky star raged over them, that they should have both shed the blood of that dear friend for whose life they would have given their own, if they had been in their proper mind at the time.” Seeing Mr. Howell’s face all besmeared with blood from his wounded hand, they both threw down their swords and embraced him, and bound up his hand with a garter, to close the veins which were cut and bled profusely. They then conveyed him home, and sent for a surgeon. King James, who was much attached to Mr. Howell, afterwards sent his own surgeon to attend him. We must continue the narrative in the words of Sir Kenelm Digby: “It was my chance,” says he, “to be lodged hard by him; and four or five days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my house, and prayed me to view his wounds. ‘For I understand,’ said he, ‘that you have extraordinary remedies on such occasions; and my surgeons apprehend some fear that it may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off.’ In effect, his countenance discovered that he was in much pain, which, he said, was insupportable in regard of the extreme inflammation. I told him I would willingly serve him; but if, haply, he knew the manner how I could cure him, without touching or seeing him, it might be that he would not expose himself to my manner of curing; because he would think it, peradventure, either ineffectual or superstitious. He replied, ‘The many wonderful things which people have related unto me of your way of medicinement makes me nothing doubt at all of its efficacy; and all that I have to say unto you is comprehended in the Spanish proverb, Hagase el milagro y hagalo Mahoma—Let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it.’

“I asked him then for any thing that had the blood upon it: so he presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound; and as I called for a basin of water, as if I would wash my hands, I took a handful of powder of vitriol, which I had in my study, and presently dissolved it. As soon as the bloody garter was brought me, I put it in the basin, observing, in the interim, what Mr. Howell did, who stood talking with a gentleman in a corner of my chamber, not regarding at all what I was doing. He started suddenly, as if he had found some strange alteration in himself. I asked him what he ailed? ‘I know not what ails me, but I find that I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kind of freshness, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath taken away the inflammation that tormented me before.’ I replied, ‘Since, then, you feel already so much good of my medicament, I advise you to cast away all your plasters; only keep the wound clean, and in a moderate temper betwixt heat and cold.’ This was presently reported to the Duke of Buckingham, and, a little after, to the king, who were both very curious to know the circumstances of the business; which was, that after dinner I took the garter out of the water, and put it to dry before a great fire. It was scarce dry before Mr. Howell’s servant came running, and saying that his master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not more; for the heat was such as if his hand were betwixt coals of fire. I answered that, although that had happened at present, yet he should find ease in a short time; for I knew the reason of this new accident, and would provide accordingly; for his master should be free from that inflammation, it might be before he could possibly return to him. But, in case he found no ease, I wished him to come presently back again; if not, he might forbear coming. Thereupon he went, and, at the instant I did put the garter again into the water; thereupon he found his master without any pain at all. To be brief, there was no cense of pain afterwards; but within five or six days the wounds were sicatrised and entirely healed.”

Such is the marvellous story of Sir Kenelm Digby. Other practitioners of that age were not behind him in their pretensions. It was not always thought necessary to use either the powder of sympathy, or the weapon-salve, to effect a cure. It was sufficient to magnetise the sword with the hand (the first faint dawn of the animal theory), to relieve any pain the same weapon had caused. They asserted, that if they stroked the sword upwards with their fingers, the wounded person would feel immediate relief; but if they stroked it downwards, he would feel intolerable pain.66
Another very singular notion of the power and capabilities of magnetism was entertained at the same time. It was believed that a sympathetic alphabet could be made on the flesh, by means of which persons could correspond with each other, and communicate all their ideas with the rapidity of volition, although thousands of miles apart. From the arms of two persons a piece of flesh was cut, and mutually transplanted, while still warm and bleeding. The piece so severed grew to the new arm on which it was placed; but still retained so close a sympathy with its native limb, that its old possessor was always sensible of any injury done to it. Upon these transplanted pieces were tatooed the letters of the alphabet; so that, when a communication was to be made, either of the persons, though the wide Atlantic rolled between them, had only to prick his arm with a magnetic needle, and straightway his friend received intimation that the telegraph was at work. Whatever letter he pricked on his own arm pained the same letter on the arm of his correspondent.
Contemporary with Sir Kenelm Digby was the no less famous Mr. Valentine Greatraks, who, without mentioning magnetism, or laying claim to any theory, practised upon himself and others a deception much more akin to the animal magnetism of the present day than the mineral magnetism it was then so much the fashion to study. He was the son of an Irish gentleman, of good education and property, in the county of Cork. He fell, at an early age, into a sort of melancholy derangement. After some time he had an impulse, or strange persuasion in his mind, which continued to present itself, whether he were sleeping or waking, that God had given him the power of curing the king’s evil. He mentioned this persuasion to his wife, who very candidly told him that he was a fool. He was not quite sure of this, notwithstanding the high authority from which it came, and determined to make trial of the power that was in him. A few days afterwards, he went to one William Maher, of Saltersbridge, in the parish of Lismore, who was grievously afflicted with the king’s evil in his eyes, cheek, and throat. Upon this man, who was of abundant faith, he laid his hands, stroked him, and prayed fervently. He had the satisfaction to see him heal considerably in the course of a few days; and finally, with the aid of other remedies, to be quite cured. This success encouraged him in the belief that he had a divine mission. Day after day he had further impulses from on high that he was called upon to cure the ague also. In the course of time he extended his powers to the curing of epilepsy, ulcers, aches, and lameness. All the county of Cork was in a commotion to see this extraordinary physician, who certainly operated some very great benefit in cases where the disease was heightened by hypochondria and depression of spirits. According to his own account,67 such great multitudes resorted to him from divers places, that he had no time to follow his own business, or enjoy the company of his family and friends. He was obliged to set aside three days in the week, from six in the morning till six at night, during which time only he laid hands upon all that came. Still the crowds which thronged around him were so great, that the neighbouring towns were not able to accommodate them. He thereupon left his house in the country, and went to Youghal, where the resort of sick people, not only from all parts of Ireland, but from England, continued so great, that the magistrates were afraid they would infect the place by their diseases. Several of these poor credulous people no sooner saw him than they fell into fits, and he restored them by waving his hand in their faces, and praying over them. Nay, he affirmed that the touch of his glove had driven pains away, and, on one occasion, cast out from a woman several devils, or evil spirits, who tormented her day and night. “Every one of these devils,” says Greatraks, “was like to choke her when it came up into her throat.” It is evident from this that the woman’s complaint was nothing but hysteria.
The clergy of the diocese of Lismore, who seem to have had much clearer notions of Greatraks’ pretensions than their parishioners, set their faces against the new prophet and worker of miracles. He was cited to appear in the Dean’s Court, and prohibited from laying on his hands for the future: but he cared nothing for the Church. He imagined that he derived his powers direct from heaven, and continued to throw people into fits, and bring them to their senses again, as usual, almost exactly after the fashion of modern magnetisers. His reputation became, at last, so great, that Lord Conway sent to him from London, begging that he would come over immediately to cure a grievous headache which his lady had suffered for several years, and which the principal physicians of England had been unable to relieve.
Greatraks accepted the invitation, and tried his manipulations and prayers upon Lady Conway. He failed, however, in affording any relief. The poor lady’s headache was excited by causes too serious to allow her any help, even from faith and a lively imagination. He lived for some months in Lord Conway’s house, at Ragley, in Warwickshire, operating cures similar to those he had performed in Ireland. He afterwards removed to London, and took a house in Lincoln’s-Inn Fields, which soon became the daily resort of all the nervous and credulous women of the metropolis. A very amusing account of Greatraks at this time (1665) is given in the second volume of the Miscellanies of St. Evremond, under the title of the Irish prophet. It is the most graphic sketch ever made of this early magnetiser. Whether his pretensions were more or less absurd than those of some of his successors, who have lately made their appearance among us, would be hard to say.
“When M. de Comminges,” says St. Evremond, “was ambassador from his most Christian majesty to the king of Great Britain, there came to London an Irish prophet, who passed himself off as a great worker of miracles. Some persons of quality having begged M. de Comminges to invite him to his house, that they might be witnesses of some of his miracles, the ambassador promised to satisfy them, as much to gratify his own curiosity as from courtesy to his friends; and gave notice to Greatraks that he would be glad to see him.

“A rumour of the prophet’s coming soon spread all over the town, and the hotel of M. de Comminges was crowded by sick persons, who came full of confidence in their speedy cure. The Irishman made them wait a considerable time for him, but came at last, in the midst of their impatience, with a grave and simple countenance, that showed no signs of his being a cheat. Monsieur de Comminges prepared to question him strictly, hoping to discourse with him on the matters that he had read of in Van Helmont and Bodinus; but he was not able to do so, much to his regret, for the crowd became so great, and cripples and others pressed around so impatiently to be the first cured, that the servants were obliged to use threats, and even force, before they could establish order among them, or place them in proper ranks.
“The prophet affirmed that all diseases were caused by evil spirits. Every infirmity was with him a case of diabolical possession. The first that was presented to him was a man suffering from gout and rheumatism, and so severely that the physicians had been unable to cure him. ‘Ah,’ said the miracle-worker, ‘I have seen a good deal of this sort of spirits when I was in Ireland. They are watery spirits, who bring on cold shivering, and excite an overflow of aqueous humours in our poor bodies.’ Then addressing the man, he said, ‘Evil spirit, who hast quitted thy dwelling in the waters to come and afflict this miserable body, I command thee to quit thy new abode, and to return to thine ancient habitation!’ This said, the sick man was ordered to withdraw, and another was brought forward in his place. This new comer said he was tormented by the melancholy vapours. In fact, he looked like a hypochondriac; one of those persons, diseased in imagination, and who but too often become so in reality. ‘Aerial spirit,’ said the Irishman, ‘return, I command thee, into the air;—exercise thy natural vocation of raising tempests, and do not excite any more wind in this sad unlucky body!’ This man was immediately turned away to make room for a third patient, who, in the Irishman’s opinion, was only tormented by a little bit of a sprite, who could not withstand his command for an instant. He pretended that he recognised this sprite by some marks which were invisible to the company, to whom he turned with a smile, and said, ‘This sort of spirit does not often do much harm, and is always very diverting.’ To hear him talk, one would have imagined that he knew all about spirits,—their names, their rank, their numbers, their employment, and all the functions they were destined to; and he boasted of being much better acquainted with the intrigues of demons than he was with the affairs of men. You can hardly imagine what a reputation he gained in a short time. Catholics and Protestants visited him from every part, all believing that power from heaven was in his hands.”

After relating a rather equivocal adventure of a husband and wife, who implored Greatraks to cast out the devil of dissension which had crept in between them, St. Evremond thus sums up the effect he produced on the popular mind: “So great was the confidence in him, that the blind fancied they saw the light which they did not see—the deaf imagined that they heard—the lame that they walked straight, and the paralytic that they had recovered the use of their limbs. An idea of health made the sick forget for a while their maladies; and imagination, which was not less active in those merely drawn by curiosity than in the sick, gave a false view to the one class, from the desire of seeing, as it operated a false cure on the other from the strong desire of being healed. Such was the power of the Irishman over the mind, and such was the influence of the mind upon the body. Nothing was spoken of in London but his prodigies; and these prodigies were supported by such great authorities, that the bewildered multitude believed them almost without examination, while more enlightened people did not dare to reject them from their own knowledge. The public opinion, timid and enslaved, respected this imperious and, apparently, well-authenticated error. Those who saw through the delusion kept their opinion to themselves, knowing how useless it was to declare their disbelief to a people filled with prejudice and admiration.”
About the same time that Valentine Greatraks was thus magnetising the people of London, an Italian enthusiast, named Francisco Bagnone, was performing the same tricks in Italy, and with as great success. He had only to touch weak women with his hands, or sometimes (for the sake of working more effectively upon their fanaticism) with a relic, to make them fall into fits, and manifest all the symptoms of magnetism.
Besides these, several learned men, in different parts of Europe, directed their attention to the study of the magnet, believing that it might be rendered efficacious in many diseases. Van Helmont, in particular, published a work on the effects of magnetism on the human frame; and Balthazar Gracian, a Spaniard, rendered himself famous for the boldness of his views on the subject. “The magnet,” said the latter, “attracts iron; iron is found every where; every thing, therefore, is under the influence of magnetism. It is only a modification of the general principle, which establishes harmony or foments divisions among men. It is the same agent that gives rise to sympathy, antipathy, and the passions.

reached Inya-tsu-tsu, a native town situated about three miles to the north of a range of hills called Vunga. I am persuaded that this town is the place marked Vunge on Dr. Livingstone's map, through which he passed on his first journey across Africa, from the west to the east coast, and that the Umrenji river, which passes close to it, is Dr. Livingstone's Molinji. The Makololo escort naturally changed the Um into Mo, and the "r" into "1," and the Doctor adopted their pronuncia- tion. P"rom Inya-tsu-tsu we could see Mount Bungwi, a large hill near the Zambesi, quite plainly ; it lay a little to the east of north by compass, and looked about twenty- five miles distant. Up to this point we had followed one of the Portuguese trade routes, between Tete and Zumbo, but as we were getting too far north I determined to leave it and strike back towards the Mazoe ; so I now endeavoured to obtain guides direct to the country of Magomo, Eastern Mashunaland, or at any rate to some place in that direction. Ever since leaving Tete we had travelled through a very dry, burnt-up country, almost destitute of inhabitants, owing principally, I think, to the great scarcity of water, and pos- sibly also to the presence of tse-tse fly....I found on inquiry that three white Portuguese had visited this part of the country within the memory of Rusambo, but I met no chief beyond him who had ever seen a Portuguese. When I asked him if he had given his country to the Portuguese he said that he had submitted to Ignacio Jesus de Xavier, the black Capitao Mor of Baroma, in order to live, -and that he now paid him an annual tribute in corn and gold dust. This year, i 889, was the third in which he had paid tribute. Augusto told us that Rusambo's country had been given to Ignacio Jesus de Xavier as a praco by the Portuguese Government, on the usual terms ; that is to say, in consideration of the payment of an annual rental, and no questions asked as to the amount of taxes he exacted from the natives. I asked Augusto what would happen should Rusambo, or any native chief in a similar position, refuse to pay up ; and he replied that Colonel Ignacio,as he called him, was able to enforce payment, as he had a strong force of well-armed men in his service, who would either get the corn and gold dust required, or in default take women and children. This year Rusambo's people had had an abundant harvest, and the old chief had a fine lot of fat fowls. He is the only African native I have ever seen who fed his fowls. Every night they were all driven into a large wattle and daub hutch, and morning and evening they received an allowance of grain.

Hanging up in the kraal, one to each hut, were the wooden 
dishes in which the women wash alluvial gold. These dishes 
were all square with rounded corners, and as all the other 
wooden pans I saw for gold washing in many other kraals in 
the Mazoe valley were of exactly the same pattern, and as 
all their other household utensils are round, these wooden pans 
may possibly retain the form of the original pans for gold 
washing introduced into South-P^astern Africa by the gold- 
seeking nations of the ancient world in very remote times. 

On I st September we found that twenty-nine of our forty- 
two carriers from Tete had decamped during the night. Fear 
of punishment by the Portuguese authorities had alone restrained 
the others ; but I did not expect they would go many days 
farther with us, as they were such a miserable lot that although 
there was no earthly cause for alarm, I felt pretty sure that their 
fear of the unknown country and unknown people on ahead 
would soon outweigh their fear of deserting us and running the 
risk of punishment at Tete. We at once set to work collecting 
porters from the surrounding villages, and by the evening had 
enlisted twenty-two to carry twenty-two loads for liberal pay- 
ment as far as Maziwa's, a chief whose town is three days' 
journey (for men carrying loads) from here. The remaining 
loads we left in charge of Rusambo. 

On 5th September, after having travelled through a very 
dry stony country, and passed the villages of two miserable 
famine -stricken chiefs, Chibonga and Matopi, we reached 
Maziwa's. 

During the last few days we had shot a little game and 
seen fresh rhinoceros tracks, and near Maziwa's village we saw 
much spoor of elands, Burchell's zebras, sable antelopes, koo- 



XV TROUBLE WITH OUR CARRIERS 283 

doos, etc. We camped at the foot of the hill on which Maziwa's 
village was situated, but there were two or three more villages 
about, all subject to the same chief and all perched on the 
summits of high rocky hills. The people here had very little 
food to sell, and appeared very poor and famine- stricken. 
Maziwa is an independent chief on a very small scale, being 
beyond Portuguese influence, either direct or indirect. Yet 
this is scarcely a correct statement, as he has been raided upon 
by one of the black CapitSo Mors from the north, who are 
supposed to be subject to the Portuguese. 

At this place we had a lot of trouble. In the first place 
Rusambo's men, having fulfilled their bargain, returned home, 
and we were left with twenty-two loads for which we wanted 
carriers, whom I thought we should have obtained from Maziwa 
without difificulty. However, Maziwa turned out to be singularly 
avaricious and grasping, even for a Kafir, and I never knew a 
Kafir yet, whose mind has been uninfluenced by contact with 
Europeans, who, when the opportunity presented itself, failed 
to make a large profit out of another man's necessity. 
Believing he had got us in a fix, Maziwa thought he would be 
able not only to skin us, but to pick the flesh from our bones, 
figuratively speaking. He demanded ten yards of calico per 
man for carrying our loads a distance of less than twenty 
miles, and wanted a large present for himself into the bargain. 
It was impossible to comply with this exorbitant demand, as, 
had we done so, the next petty chief, when he learned what 
Maziwa had screwed out of us, would have wanted at least as 
much to put us a short distance farther on our journey, and in 
this way in a very short time we should have been left without 
any goods at all. During the day I did a lot of tallcing to 
Maziwa ; but he remained obdurate, and was deaf to all argu- 
ment, persuasion, sarcasm, invective, and insult, for he thought 
we were in his power and would have to agree to his terms, 
however exorbitant. One of his remarks was, that an elephant 
had come and died in his country, and he and his people 
would fatten on the carcase. 

In the evening, our thrice-accursed Shakundas from Tete, 
who were probably in communication with Maziwa, thinking 
that now we were in a mess they would be able to make 



284 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE IN AFRICA chap. 

capital out of our misfortunes, came up in a body and 
demanded ten yards of calico per man to carry their loads 
two days' journey farther, threatening to leave in the night if 
we did not comply with their request. Though boiling over 
with indignation we were obliged to talk quietly with them, 
and argue and temporise, for if these fourteen men had left us, 
plantes la, with only Augusto and five boys, we could never 
have removed the greater part of our thirty-seven loads, and 
the expedition would have come to an end. After much 
discussion we gave the Shakundas each a common shirt, 
and they then promised to cany our goods as far as we 
wanted to go. 

The next morning Maziwa came down to our camp with a 
good many of his tribe, but we found him even more unreason- 
able than he had been the previous day, and after a short and 
.stormy interview he again retired to his kraal. I now resolved 
to destroy a portion of our goods, and to push on without 
Maziwa's aid. With the fourteen Shakundas and our five boys 
(three from Quillimani and Augusto's two), we had nineteen 
carriers for thirty-seven loads. I now went through every- 
thing and made up nineteen loads of what we most required, 
and then collected the remaining things, principally trading 
goods and provisions, about seven hundredweights altogether, 
into an immense heap. We then collected large quantities of 
fuel and set the pyre alight. It seemed a pity to sacrifice 
goods that had been carried so far, but it was much better 
than submitting to the extortions of a 

MISERABLE SAVAGE .... 

 During this operation Maziwa and his greedy clansmen stood 
looking on from the hill, and the old chief, as he saw the 
calico and blankets which he coveted being licked up and 
destroyed by the flames, lost all his self-possession, and 
declaimed loudly against us from his coign of vantage. I did 
not understand him, but Augusto told us that he said we were 
his enemies, and that every one was his enemy who came from 
Tete ; that if he had men enough he would kill us and seize 
our goods, and finally threatened that if we went on he would 
follow and raise the country on us. As we had four good 
breech-loading rifles, and all our Shakundas were armed with 
muskets belonging to Senhor Martins Da Gama Baixa..

And, after such barbarous treatment as this, can the world blame me, when I ask, What is become of the freedom of an Englishman? And where is the liberty and property that my old glorious friend came over to assert? We have drove popery out of the nation, and sent slavery to foreign climes. The arts only remain in bondage, when a man of science and character shall be openly insulted in the midst of the many useful services he is daily paying to the publick. Was it ever heard, even in Turkey or Algiers, that a state- astrologer was banter’d out of his life by an ignorant impostor, or bawl’d out of the world by a pack of villanous, deep-mouth’d hawkers? Though I print almanacks, and publish advertisements; though I produce certificates under the ministers and church-wardens hands I am alive, and attest the same on oath at quarter-sessions, out comes a full and true relation of the death and interment of John Partridge; Truth is bore down, attestations neglected, the testimony of sober persons despised, and a man is looked upon by his neighbours as if he had been seven years dead, and is buried alive in the midst of his friends and acquaintance. Now can any man of common sense think it consistent with the honour of my profession, and not much beneath the dignity of a philosopher, to stand bawling before his own door? – Alive! Alive ho! The famous Dr. Partridge! No counterfeit, but all alive! – As if I had the twelve celestial monsters of the zodiac to shew within, or was forced for a livelihood to turn retailer to May and Bartholomew Fairs. Therefore, if Her Majesty would but graciously be pleased to think a hardship of this nature worthy her royal consideration, and the next parliament, in their great wisdom cast but an eye towards the deplorable case of their old philomath, that annually bestows his poetical good wishes on them, I am sure there is one Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq; would soon be truss’d up for his bloody predictions, and putting good subjects in terror of their lives: And that henceforward to murder a man by way of prophecy, and bury him in a printed letter, either to a lord or commoner, shall as legally entitle him to the present possession of Tyburn, as if he robb’d on the highway, or cut your throat in bed

when you should have been in your coffin this three hours? In short, what

with undertakers, imbalmers, joiners, sextons, and your damn’d elegy hawk-

ers, upon a late practitioner in physick and astrology, I got not one wink

of sleep that night, nor scarce a moment’s rest ever since. Now I doubt not

but this villainous ‘squire has the impudence to assert, that these are en-

tirely strangers to him; he, good man, knows nothing of the matter, and

honest I

saac Bickerstaff, I warrant you, is more a man of honour, than to be

an accomplice with a pack of rascals, that walk the streets on nights, and

disturb good people in their beds; but he is out, if he thinks the whole world

is blind; for there is one John Partridge can smell a knave as far as Grubstreet,

– tho’ he lies in the most exalted garret, and writes himself ‘Squire: – But

I’ll keep my temper, and proceed in the narration.

I could not stir out of doors for the space of three months after this, but

presently one comes up to me in the street; Mr Partridge, that coffin you

was last buried in I have not been yet paid for: Doctor, cries another dog,

How d’ye think people can live by making of graves for nothing? Next

time you die, you may e’en toll out the bell yourself for Ned. A third

rogue tips me by the elbow, and wonders how I have the conscience to

sneak abroad without paying my funeral expences. Lord, says one, I durst

have swore that was honest Dr. Partridge, my old friend; but poor man,

he is gone. I beg your pardon, says another, you look so like my old ac-

quaintance that I used to consult on some private occasions; but, alack,

he’s gone the way of all flesh – Look, look, look, cries a third, after a

competent space of staring at me, would not one think our neighbour the

almanack-maker, was crept out of his grave to take t’other peep at the stars

in this world, and shew how much he is improv’d in fortune-telling by

having taken a journey to the other?

Nay, the very reader, of our parish, a good sober, discreet person, has

sent two or three times for me to come and be buried decently, or send

him sufficient reasons to the contrary, if I have been interr’d in any other

parish, to produce my certificate, as the act requires. My poor wife is

almost run distracted with being called Widow Partridge, when she knows

its false; and once a term she is cited into the court, to take out letters of

administration. But the greatest grievance is, a paultry quack, that takes

up my calling just under my nose, and in his printed directions with N.B.

says, He lives in the house of the late ingenious Mr. John Partridge, an

eminent practitioner in leather, physick and astrology.

But to show how far the wicked spirit of envy, malice and resentment

can hurry some men, my nameless old persecutor had provided me a

monument at the stone-cutter’s and would have erected it in the parish-church; and this piece of notorious and expensive villany had actually

succeeded, had I not used my utmost interest with the vestry, where it was

carried at last but by two voices, that I am still alive. That stratagem fail-

ing, out comes a long sable elegy, bedeck’d with hour-glasses, mattocks,

sculls, spades, and skeletons, with an epitaph as confidently written to

abuse me, and my profession, as if I had been under ground these twenty

years

 

I shall demonstrate to the judicious, that France and Rome are at the bottom of this horrid conspiracy against me; and that culprit aforesaid is

a popish emissary, has paid his visits to St. Germains, and is now in the measures of Lewis XIV. That in attempting my reputation, there is a general massacre of learning designed in these realms; and through my sides

there is a wound given to all the Protestant almanack-makers in the universe.

Vivat Regina.