The Theater (1720) | Page 7

selves to believe,
that it is Fear, Superstition, or Ignorance, to fancy that Providence
sends the World a Warning in extraordinary Appearances: We buoy our
selves up, that we only want such a Portion of Philosophy to account
for what startles the Grossness of Sense, and to know that such
Appearances must have their Cause in Nature, tho' we cannot readily
determine where to fix it. This brings to my Mind, when Glendour was
boasting in the Play, that at his Nativity the Heavens were full of fiery
Shapes, and the Foundation of the Earth shook like a Coward; Hotspur
reply'd humourously, _Why so it would have done at the same Season,
if your Mother's Cat had but kitten'd, tho' your self had never been
born_.
If we are to think so slightly of these uncommon Accidents, since the
Fashion of the Times will call them so, I would fain be resolved in one
Point, how it comes to pass, that the Birth and Death of so many
eminent Persons, and of Consequence to the World, have been mark'd
and usher'd in with such a Pomp of Prodigies. The same great Poet,
whom I but now quoted, observes finely, that,
_When Beggars die, there are no Comets seen: The Heav'ns themselves
blaze forth the Death of Princes._

The whole Concurrence of Historians, even of the most undoubted
Authority, have struck in, and espoused this Opinion. They are not all
Fools and superstitious Dotards, nor tied by any Obligations to record a
Set of Miracles, which in their own private Thoughts they counted
absurd, and laugh'd at. Every Pen, that has touch'd the Circumstance of
_Julius Cæsar's_ Death, has consented to relate the Strange Things,
which both foresaw and foretold his Assassination. Shakespear has
communicated these Terrors to his Audience with the utmost Art: The
Night is attended with Thunder and Lightning; and _Cæsar_ comes
forth in his Night-gown, reflecting on the Unquietness of the Season,
and ordering the Priests to do present Sacrifice: Calphurnia
immediately follows him; and the Undauntedness of his Spirit, attack'd
by the Tenderness of his Wife's Tears, gives an Occasion for the
following Recital.
Cæsar, _I never stood on Ceremonies; Yet now they fright me: There is
one within, Besides the Things that we have heard and seen, Recounts
most horrid Sights seen by the Watch. A Lioness hath whelped in the
Streets; And Graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their Dead: Fierce
fiery Warriours fight upon the Clouds, (In Ranks and Squadrons, and
right Forms of War) Which drizzled Blood upon the_ Capitol. _The
Noise of Battle hurried in the Air, Horses did neigh, and dying Men did
groan, And Ghosts did shriek, and squeal about the Streets. O_ Cæsar!
_These Things are beyond all Use, And I do fear them_.
The Poet, tho' he has adorned this Description by his Art, has been
careful to collect its Substance from the Historians. Every Particular is
preserved to us by the Heathen Writers; and not a Heathen, that we
know of, did ever dispute the Truth of it. The Love and Esteem which
the Generality bore to the Person of _Cæsar_, the Reverence which
they paid to the Dignity of his Character, and the important Services
which he had done the Commonwealth, contributed not only to
convince them of these Prodigies, but to make some effort, that the
Gods had received him into their Number.
The Use, which I intended from this Subject, is, that as Christians, who
have more invaluable Obligations to remember, we should suffer our

Faith and Gratitude to extend as least as far as the Pagans did. There
was a dread Time (for the Commemoration whereof a Day is annually
set a-part) _when the Sun was eclipsed, and Darkness was over all the
Land; when the Vail of the Temple was rent asunder from the Top to
the Bottom; when the Earth quaked, and Rocks were split; when the
Graves were opened, and the Bodies of Saints, which slept in Death,
arose and walked_. Let Atheists alone, and Freethinkers disbelieve the
Terrors of that Hour. 'Twas fit that Nature should feel such Convulsions,
when the Lord of Life suffered such Indignities.
I almost fear least my Readers should suspect that I am usurping the
Province of the Pulpit, and therefore I shall continue this Discourse in
the Words of a Poet, who will ever be esteemed in the English Tongue.
When Adam is doom'd to be turn'd out of Paradise, Milton has by a
happy Machinery supposed, that the Angel Michael is dispatched down
to pronounce the Sentence, and mitigate it by shewing Adam in Vision,
what should happen to his Posterity. Amongst the rest, the Incarnation
is shadowed out; and the Angel tells him, that the Messiah shall spring
from his Loins, and