ally still if this person happen to be the seventh son of a seventh son. It is now perhaps impossible to discover in what country, or at what time, the notion originated, but a notion there certainly is, chiefly in provincial districts, that a seventh son has something peculiar about him. For the most part, the imputed peculiarity is a healing power, a faculty of curing diseases by the touch, or by some other means. The instances of this belief are numerous enough. There is a rare pamphlet called 'The Quack Doctor's Speech,' published in the time of Charles II. The reckless · Earl of Rochester delivered this speech on one occasion, when dressed in character, and mounted on a stage as a charlatan. The speech, amid much that suited that licentious age, but would be frowned down by modern society, contained an enumeration of the doctor's wonderful qualities, among which was that of being a 'seventh son of a seventh son,' and therefore clever as a curer of bodily ills. The matter is only mentioned as affording a sort of proof of the existence of a sort of popular belief. In Cornwall, the peasants and the miners entertain this notion; they believe that a seventh son can cure the king's evil by the touch. The mode of proceeding usually is to stroke the part affected thrice gently, to blow upon it thrice, to repeat a form of words, and to give a perforated coin, or some other object, to be worn as an amulet. At Bristol, about forty years ago, there was a man who was always called 'doctor' simply because he was the seventh son of a seventh son. The family of the Joneses of Muddfi, in Wales, is said to have presented seven sons to each of many successive generations, of whom the seventh son always became a doctor -apparently from a conviction that he had an inherited qualification to start with. In Ireland, the seventh son of a seventh son is believed to possess prophetical as well as healing power. A few years ago a Dublin shopkeeper finding his errand-boy to be generally very dilatory in his duties, inquired into the cause, and found that the boy,

being the seventh son of a seventh son, his services were often in requisition among the poorer neighbours, in a way that brought in a good many pieces of silver. Early in the present century there was a man in Hampshire, the seventh son of a seventh son, who was consulted by the villagers as a doctor, and who carried about with him a collection of crutches and sticks, purporting to have once belonged to persons whom he had cured of lameness. Cases are not wanting, also, in which the seventh daughter is placed upon a similar pinnacle of greatness. In Scotland the spaewife or fortune-teller frequently announces herself as the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, to enhance her claims to prophetic power. Even so late as 1851, an inscription was seen on a window in Plymouth, denoting that a certain doctress was the third seventh daughter!—which the world was probably intended to interpret as the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.. France, as well as our own country, has a belief in the seventh-son mystery. The Journal de Loiret, a French provincial newspaper, in 1854 stated that, in Orleans, if a family has seven sons and no daughter, the seventh is called a Marcou, is branded with a fleur-de-lis, and is believed to possess the power of curing the king's evil. The Marcou breathes on the part affected, or else the patient touches the Marcou's fleur-de-lis. In the year above named there was a famous Marcou in Orleans named Foulon; he was a cooper by trade, and was known as 'le beau Marcou.' Simple peasants used to come to visit him from many leagues in all directions, particularly in Passion-week, when his ministrations were believed to be most efficacious. On the night of Good Friday, from midnight to sunrise, the chance of cure was supposed to be especially good, and on this account four or five hundred persons would assemble. Great disturbances hence arose; and as there was evidence, to all except the silly dupes themselves, that Foulon made use of their superstition to enrich himself, the police

succeeded, but not without much opposition, in preventing these assemblages. In some of the states of Germany there used formerly to be a custom for the reigning prince to stand sponsor to a seventh son (no daughter intervening) of any of his subjects. Whether still acted upon is doubtful; but there was an incident lately which bore on the old custom in a curious way. A West-Hartlepool newspaper stated that Mr J. V. Curths, a German, residing in that busy colliery town, became, towards the close of 1857, the father of one of those prodigies-a seventh son. Probably he himself was a Saxe-Gothan by birth; at any rate he wrote to the Prince Consort, reminding him of the old German custom, and soliciting the honour of his Royal Highness's sponsorship to the child. The Prince was doubtless a little puzzled by this appeal, as he often must have been by the strange appeals made to him. Nevertheless, a reply was sent in the Prince's name, very complimentary to his countryman, and enclosing a substantial. souvenir for the little child; but the newspaper paragraph is not sufficiently clear for us to be certain whether the sponsorship really was assented to, and, if so, how it was performed." It is not at all likely, proud as the late Prince was of his countrymen, and of Germans generally, that he took upon himself the pains and penalties of sponsorship to this miraculous infant, whose father was doubtless well satisfied with the douceur he received, and never expected even that.

Saffold was an early humbug who depended mainly upon doggerel rhyme for attraction. It is to be hoped that his wares were better than his numbers, or else the deaths of many must have lain heavy on his soul. One of his bills, enumerating his address and claims upon the attention of the public, informs us that of him

The Sick may have Advice for Nothing,

And good Medicines cheap, if so they please
For to cure any curable Disease.

It's Saffold's Pills, much better than the Rest,
Deservedly have gained the Name of best

In curing by the Cause, quite purging out
Of Scurvy, Dropsie, Agues, Stone and Gout.
The Head, Stomach, Belly and the Reins, they
Will cleanse and cure, while you may work or play.
His Pills have often, to their Maker's Praise,
Cur'd in all Weathers, yea, in the Dog-Days.

In short, no purging Med'cine is made, can

Cure more Diseases in Man or Woman,

Than his cheap Pills, but three Shillings the Box.
Each Box contains Thirty-six Pills I'm sure.
As good as e'er were made Scurvy to cure.
The half Box eighteen Pills, for eighteen Pence,
Tho' 't is too cheap, in any Man's own Sense.

At the foot of the bill, after a lot of puffery, he breaks out into rhyme once more :—

Some envious Men being griev'd may say,
What needs Bills thus still be given away?
Answer: New People come to London every Day.
Believing Solomon's Advice is right,

I will do what I do with all my might.

Also, unless an English Proverb lies
Practice brings Experience and makes wise.
Experimental Knowledge, I protest,

In lawful Arts and Science is the best,

Instead of Finis Saffold ends with Rest.

Another of his bills, which were various and plentiful, began thus:

:

Dear Friends, let your Disease be what God will,
Pray to Him for a Cure, try Saffold's Skill;
Who may be such a healing Instrument,

As will cure you to your own Heart's Content.
His Medicines are cheap and truly good.
Being full as safe as your daily Food-
Saffold he can do what may be done, by
Either Physick or true Astrology.
His best Pills, rare Elixir and Powder,
Do each Day praise him louder and louder.
Dear Countrymen, I pray be you so wise

When Men back bite him, believe not their Lies,
But go, see him, and believe your own Eyes.
Then he will say you are honest and kind.

Try before you judge and speak as you find.

At another time the muse informs us, among other things in connection with the great Saffold, that

He knows some who are Knaves in Grain,
And have more Gall and Spleen than Brain,
Will ill reward his Skill and Pain.

He hath practised Astrology above 15 Years, and hath License to practise Physick, and he thanks God for it, hath great Experience and wonderful Success in both those Arts, giving to doubtful People and by God's Blessing, cureth the Sick of any Age or Sex or Distemper though given over by Others, and never so bad (if curable); therefore let none despair of a Cure, but try him.

Yet some conceited Fools will ask how he came to be able to do such great Cures, and to foretell such strange Things, and to know how to make such rare and powerful Medicines, as his best Pills, Elixir and Diet Drinks are, and wherefore he doth publish the same in Print? But he will answer such dark Animals thus:

It hath so pleased God, the King of Heaven,

Being He to him hath Knowledge given,
And in him there can be no greater Sin,
Than to hide his Talent in a Napkin.
His Candle is Light and he will not under
A Bushel put it, let the World wonder:
Though he be traduced by such like Tools,

As have Knaves' Hearts, Lackbrains are Fools.

I request a favourable Construction upon this Publick wap of Practice (And as I am a Graduate Physician) should wholly omit to appear in Print, as well in this Disease as I have at all Times in all other Diseases, only in Opposition to the Ignorant, that pretend to Cure, and to prevent the ruine of them that suffer and I see daily throw themselves upon ignorant and outlandish Pretenders and others, to the Patient's utter ruine of Body and Purse. AND upon this Consideration alone, I was persuaded rather to adventure the censure of some, than conceal that which may be of great use to many.

One other specimen of this artist's verse and we will let him follow his predecessors. It may be as well to mention.