Chapter VI: Part 6

The proverb “Cleanliness is next to godliness” first made its appearance in “Beraitha” as the last Mishna of Sota, chapter ix. _Mishna_ (instruction) is a word applied by the Jews to the oral law, which is divided into six parts. The Jewish Talmud is a commentary on the Mishna. The references to that are: Talmud Jerus, Skakalim, chapter iii., page 6; Talmud babl. Ab. Sarah, page 20 b; Jalket, sh. Isaiah No. 263; and Alfassi ab; Sarah, ibid. loc. Here it reads as follows: “Phinehas ben Yair says, The doctrines of religion are resolved into (or are next to) carefulness; carefulness into vigorousness; vigorousness into guiltlessness; guiltlessness into abstemiousness; abstemiousness into cleanliness; cleanliness into godliness (equal to holiness),” etc., etc. No translation can render it exactly; it is literally “cleanliness next to (or akin to) godliness;” and this saying is older than the gospels.

_Punchinello_

The Punch and Judy idea is over two thousand years old. The Celestial Emperor Kao Tsu (206 B.C.) was shut up in the City of Peh-têng by an army of barbarous Huns. “With his Majesty was a statesman, Ch’ ên P’ing, who, happening to know that the wife of the besieging chieftain was a very jealous woman, devised a scheme. He caused the portrait of a very beautiful girl to be forwarded to her, with a message that if her husband would permit the emperor to go forth unharmed, the young lady should become his property. The chieftain’s wife never mentioned the portrait to her husband, but at once began to persuade him to raise the siege, which, in fact, he would have done forthwith had he not been privately informed of the picture and warned at the same time that the whole affair was simply a ruse. Thereupon he sent to say that it would be necessary for him first of all to have a glimpse of this beauty in the flesh; and later on he repaired by agreement to the foot of the city wall, where he beheld the young lady moving about and surrounded by a number of attendants. His suspicions being thus allayed, he gave orders to open a passage through his lines to the Emperor Kao Tsu and suite, who promptly made the best of their way out. At the same time the Hun chieftain entered the city and proceeded to the spot on the wall where the young lady was awaiting him, still surrounded by her handmaids; but on arriving there he found that the beauty and her attendants were simply a set of wooden puppets which had been dressed up for the occasion and were worked by a concealed arrangement of springs.

_Workmen’s Strikes_

Mrs. Oliphant, in “The Makers of Florence,” relates that in the course of the construction of the massive dome of the Duomo, of the many difficulties with which Brunelleschi had to contend, “the greatest was a strike of his workmen, of whom, however, there being no trades’ unions in those days, the imperious _maestro_ made short work.”

_The Standing Egg_

The well-known trick of Columbus in making an egg stand on end during a dispute after his return from his first voyage was anticipated by Brunelleschi, the architect of the magnificent dome of the Duomo in Florence. During the heated controversy which preceded his selection over his competitors, “he proposed,” according to Vasari’s amusing account, “to all the masters, foreigners, and compatriots, that he who could make an egg stand upright on a piece of smooth marble should be appointed to build the cupola, since in doing that his genius would be made manifest. They took an egg accordingly, and all those masters did their best to make it stand upright, but none discovered the method of doing so. Wherefore Filipo (Brunelleschi), being told that he might make it stand himself, took it daintily into his hand, gave the end of it a blow on the plane of the marble, and made it stand upright. Beholding this the artists loudly protested, exclaiming that they could all have done the same, but Filipo replied, laughingly, that they might also know how to construct the cupola if they had seen the model and design.”

This was in the year 1420, fifteen years before Columbus was born.

_Setting up to Knock Down_

The great English statesman, John Bright, once playfully suggested that the appointment of a certain gentleman to the Chief Secretaryship of Ireland was intended as a punishment to that country for some of its offences. What was thus said half in jest a sacred writer states here in all seriousness: “That such a prince as Zedekiah was raised to the throne was itself a token of divine displeasure, for his character was such as to hasten the final catastrophe,”—that which came to pass was “through the anger of the Lord.”

_The Guilds of London_

With regard to the origin of the London guilds there are two opposing parties, one of which holds that these organizations had their origin in certain mutual benefit associations of the Roman Empire, while the other insists on their spontaneous generation from the needs of Teutonic society in the Middle Ages. One thing is certain, without the culture of the Roman Empire there would have been no Teutonic nor Celtic nor Iberian civilization in modern Europe, and chivalry, knighthood, and the guild system, as well as every other step toward modern refinement, owe their existence in a near or remote degree to what preceded them, to the civic life that descended in unbroken continuity from Babylon to Treves. It would have been a remarkable thing if mediæval Europe had not retained a reminiscence more or less distinct of the well-drilled, well-mounted, well-armed, imperturbable Romans, the men “under authority,” scattered in villages and outposts, or collected in garrisons, and had not tried to create defenders of the same kind. Equally strange would it be if such organizations as the Collegia Opificum pervaded the urban life of the imperial dominions without leaving an impression on the people. The similarity of the guilds to their Roman prototypes is very remarkable. The objects of both were common worship, social intercourse, and mutual protection. It is confessed that modern historians have exaggerated the breach in continuity between the Roman and the barbarian world; it is even acknowledged that in one or two Gallic towns certain artisan corporations may have existed without interruption from the fifth to the twelfth century; and that Roman regulations may have served as models for the organization of serfs, skilled laborers on the lands of monks and nobles. But it must be pointed out on the other hand that until the twelfth century the demand for skilled labor in Europe was comparatively meagre and that the stream of ancient tradition was really growing weaker with every decade. What can be insisted on is simply a certain economy of intellectual effort, for the sake of a human animal, the mediæval Celt, Saxon, Norseman, Hun, etc., with whom intellect does not seem to have been a strong point. His invention may not have been put to the test in the matter of guilds. What he needed had happily survived his own clumsy race as well as the indifference of Romans and Provincials. Even in England one can ascend much beyond the twelfth century by the discovery of a rare notice now and then of a Knights’ Guild or a Frith Guild in Saxon London.

_Rip Van Winkle_

The classical scholar will regard Rip Van Winkle as a resuscitation of Epimenides, who lived in the Island of Crete six centuries before the Christian era. The story is, that going by his father’s order in search of a sheep, he laid himself down in a cave, where he fell asleep, and slept for fifty years. He then reappeared among the people, with long hair and a flowing beard. But while poor Rip, after his twenty years’ slumber, awoke to find himself the butt of his village, Epimenides had absorbed a wonderful degree of knowledge.

The German legend on which Washington Irving’s story is founded is given by Otmar in his “Volks-Sagen,” entitled “Der Ziegenhirt.” Peter Klaus, a goatherd of Sittendorf, is the hero of the tale, the scene of which is laid on the Kyffhäuser.

_Menteith_

Benedict Arnold, the traitor whose betrayal of trust and attempt to sacrifice his country will, through all time, be regarded as the highest height and the lowest depth of infamy, had a fitting prototype in Sir John Menteith, who betrayed the great defender of Scotch liberty, Sir William Wallace, into the hands of the English invaders, and, with the deliverance of his person, the surrender of the liberty of his country, leaving a name and memory loaded with disgrace. Sir Walter Scott, in his “Tales of a Grandfather,” says,—

“The King of England, Edward I., possessed so many means of raising soldiers, that he sent army after army into the poor, oppressed country of Scotland, and obliged all its nobles and great men, one after another, to submit themselves to his yoke. Sir William Wallace alone, or with a very small band of followers, refused either to acknowledge the usurper Edward, or to lay down his arms. He continued to maintain himself among the woods and mountains of his native country for no less than seven years after his defeat at Falkirk, and for more than one year after all the other defenders of Scottish liberty had laid down their arms. Many proclamations were sent out against him by the English, and a great reward was set upon his head; for Edward did not think he could have any secure possession of his usurped kingdom of Scotland while Wallace lived. At length he was taken prisoner, and shame it is to say, a Scotsman, called Sir John Menteith, was the person by whom he was seized and delivered to the English. It is generally said that he was made prisoner at Robroyston, near Glasgow, and the tradition of the country is that the signal for rushing upon him and taking him unawares, was that one of his pretended friends, who was to betray him, should turn a loaf which was placed on the table, with its bottom or flat side uppermost. And in after times it was reckoned ill-breeding to turn a loaf in that manner if there was a person named Menteith in company; since it was as much as to remind him that his namesake had betrayed Sir William Wallace, the champion of Scotland.

_The Christmas-Tree_

The Christmas-tree came in with the movements of the transition from the mediæval to the modern period. Previous to that epoch, the fir or spruce-tree, with its pendant decorations, its toys and baubles, its stars and crosses, its spangles and tinselry, its glittering emblems, and the wax candles lighting its branches were unknown. For a long time it found its highest expression in the tannenbaum of Germany, and German antiquaries claim that it was a relic of the Saturnalia, and was implanted in Teutonic soil by the conquering Legions of Drusus, about the commencement of the Christian era. The myth which connects it with St. Winfred goes forward to the eighth century. While the famous missionary was hewing down the sacred oak that had been the object of idolatrous worship, a tornado blasted it. But just behind it, unharmed by the whirlwind, stood a young fir tree pointing a green spire to the stars. Winfred turned to his followers, and said,—

“This little tree, a young child of the forest, shall be your holy-tree to-night. It is the wood of peace, for your houses are built of it. It is the sign of an endless life, for its leaves are always green. See how it points upward to heaven. Let this be called the tree of the Christ-child; gather about it, not in the wild woods, but in your own homes; there it will shelter no deeds of blood, but loving gifts and acts of kindness.”

It is noteworthy that the first description of a Christmas-tree in German literature is to be found in “The Nut-Cracker” of Hoffman, whose strange stories remind us of our own Edgar Poe. But whatsoever the German pedigree, the tree had a Roman prototype, as we learn from the Georgics of Virgil. It was customary to suspend from the branches of trees in the vineyards _oscilla_ or _sigilla_, which were little figures, or faces, or heads of Bacchus, made of earthenware or marble (some of which are preserved in the British Museum), to be turned in every direction by the wind. Whichsoever way they looked when blown by the air currents, they were supposed to make the vines in that quarter fruitful. The oscilla were frequently given as toys to children. Virgil says of the Roman youth—to use Dryden’s translation,—

“In jolly hymns they praise the god of wine,
Whose earthen images adorn the pine,
And there are hung on high, in honor of the vine,” etc.

Antiquarians who are not satisfied to let the origin rest with this feature of the sixth and seventh days of the Saturnalia have undertaken to trace the tree to the ancient Egyptians, and also to the Buddhists.

_Shallows and Deeps_

“The shallows murmur while the deeps are dumb” seems to be an adaptation from Quintus Curtius Rufus: “Altissima quæque flumina minimo sono labuntur.” The line is to be found in “The Silent Lover,” usually attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh, sometimes entitled “Sir Walter Raleigh to Queen Elizabeth”:

“Passions are likened best to flouds and streames;
The shallow murmur, but the deepe are dumbe:
Soe, when affections yield discourse, it seemes
The bottome is but shallowe whence they come.
They that are riche in wordes, in wordes discover
That they are poore in that which makes a lover.”

The lines—

“Remember, aye the ocean deeps are mute,
The shallows roar.
Worth is the Ocean—Fame is but the bruit
Along the shore”—

are to be found in “Fame,” translated from Schiller, one of the Hymns of the Ages.

_Platform_

In Carlyle’s “Letters of Oliver Cromwell,” vol. iii, p. 89, is a passage in which Cromwell uses the word platform in the modern American sense of a creed, or theory, or declaration of principles. He charges Governor Dundas (Edinburgh Castle) and the Presbyterian ministers with “darkening and not beholding the glory of God’s wonderful dispensations in this series of His providences in England, Scotland, and Ireland, both now and formerly, through envy at instruments, and because the things did not work forth your platform, and the great God did not come down to your minds and thoughts.”

FORECASTS

_Sic Vos Non Vobis_

The iconoclasts are turning their attention to the claims of Harvey and Jenner. They declare that the claim of Andrea Cesalpino, of Avezzo, one of the famous scientists of Italy in the sixteenth century, to the prior discovery of the circulation of the blood, has been established. And as to Jenner, they bring forward this inscription in the graveyard of Worth Maltravers, Dorsetshire, to show that he was anticipated by several years:

“Sacred to the memory of Benjamin Jesty, of Downshay, died April 16, 1816, aged 79. He was born at Yetminster, in this county, and was an upright, honest man, particularly noted for having been the first person known that introduced the cow-pox by inoculation, and who, for his great strength of mind, made the experiment from the cow on his wife and two sons in the year 1774.”

The “strength of mind” referred to would be laughable were it not for the fact that Jesty had already caught the cow-pox from his cows, and so did not need to be inoculated for it.

_The Moons of Mars_

The following passage, from Voltaire’s “Micromegas Histoire Philosophique,” is curious in view of the discovery of the two moons of Mars, several years ago, by Professor Asaph Hall, of the National Observatory, Washington. The work describes a journey, throughout the solar system, of Micromegas, a philosopher of Sirius, and a being of enormous proportions, who is accompanied by an inhabitant of Saturn, the latter intermediate in size between the great Sirian and the inhabitants of our earth. The extract is from the third chapter:

“Departing from Jupiter, our voyagers traversed a space of a hundred millions of leagues, and coasted the planet Mars, which, as is well known, is about one-fifth of the dimensions of our little globe. _They saw two moons which attend this planet, and which have escaped the observations of our astronomers._ I know very well that Father Castel will write, good-humoredly, of course (et même assez plaisamment), against the existence of these two moons; but I am in accord with those who reason from analogy. Philosophers of this sort know how difficult it would be for Mars, which is so distant from the sun, to get on with less than two moons, at all events.”

Voltaire’s philosophical romance, published in 1752, was imitated from Swift’s “Gulliver’s Travels.” It is therefore easy to trace the quotation to the Voyage to Laputa (Chapter III.) in which Swift, writing in 1727, says,—

“Although their largest telescopes do not exceed three feet, they show the stars with great clearness. This advantage has enabled them to extend their discoveries much farther than our astronomers in Europe; for they have made a catalogue of ten thousand fixed stars, whereas the largest of ours do not contain above one-third part of that number. They have likewise discovered two lesser stars, or satellites, which revolve about Mars, whereof the innermost is distant from the centre of the primary planet exactly three of his diameters, and the outermost five; the former revolves in the space of ten hours, and the latter in twenty-one and a half; so that the squares of their periodical times are very near in the same proportion with the cubes of their distance from the centre of Mars; which evidently shows them to be governed by the same law of gravitation that influences the other heavenly bodies.”

_The Suez Canal_

In the second part of Marlowe’s “Tamburlaine the Great,” written in 1587, there is a remarkable forecasting of one of the greatest enterprises of modern times, the Suez Canal. In the catastrophe of this powerful drama, Tamburlaine (the historical Timour, or Tamerlane, the “Scourge of God”) being about to die, is made to review his conquests. He calls upon his attendants for a map that he may see how much of the world is left for him to conquer, and may exhibit his plans to his sons for them to execute when he is dead. Placing his finger on the map, he exclaims:

“Here I began to march toward Persia,
Along Armenia and the Caspian Sea,
And thence into Bithynia, where I took
The Turk and his great empress prisoners.
Then marched I into Egypt and Arabia,
And here, not far from Alexandria,
Whereas the Terrene and the Red Sea meet,
Being distant less than full a hundred leagues,
I meant to cut a channel to them both,
That men might quickly sail to India.”

_The Panama Canal_

Eckermann, in his “Conversations,” under date of February 21, 1827, says,—

“Dined with Goethe. He spoke with admiration of Alexander von Humboldt, whose views as to the project for making a passage through the Isthmus of Panama, appeared to have a particular interest for him. ‘Humboldt,’ said Goethe, ‘has, with a great knowledge of his subject, given other points where, by making use of some streams which flow into the Gulf of Mexico, the end may be, perhaps, better attained than at Panama. All this is reserved for the future and for an enterprising spirit. So much, however, is certain, that if they succeed in cutting such a canal that ships of any burden and size can be navigated through it from the Mexican Gulf to the Pacific Ocean, innumerable benefits would result to the whole human race, civilized and uncivilized. But I should wonder if the United States were to let an opportunity escape of getting such work into their own hands. It may be foreseen that this young State with its decided prediction to the West, will, in thirty or forty years, have occupied and peopled the large tract of land beyond the Rocky Mountains. It may, furthermore, be foreseen that along the whole coast of the Pacific Ocean, where nature has already formed the most capacious and secure harbors, important commercial towns will gradually arise for the furtherance of a great intercourse between China and the East Indies and the United States. In such a case it would not only be desirable, but almost necessary, that a more rapid communication should be maintained between the eastern and western shores of North America, both by merchant ships and men-of-war, than has hitherto been possible with the tedious, disagreeable, and expensive voyage round Cape Horn. I therefore repeat that it is absolutely indispensable for the United States to effect a passage from the Mexican Gulf to the Pacific Ocean; and I am certain that they will do it.’”

_Foreshadowing of the Germ Theory_

Dr. Samuel Johnson, in a letter to Mrs. Thrale, under date of November 12, 1781, in the course of a sympathetic reference to a friend of theirs who was suffering from dysentery, expressed the opinion that the specific cause of that disease, one of the oldest of which we have any record, was an amœba or animalcule. He says, “If Mr. B—— will drink a great deal of water, the acrimony that corrodes his bowels will be diluted, if the cause be only acrimony; but I suspect dysenteries to be produced by animalculæ which I know not how to kill.” Long before Johnson’s time, Morgagni’s investigations had shown the character of the inflammation of the lower intestines, but that a century before the revelation of pathogenic micro-organisms Johnson should have suspected causal relations between amœboid cells and an infectious disease is very curious. Even the term he employed is used in classification, as of the two forms of dysentery which are recognized, one is known as amœbic, and the other as bacillary.

_The Telephone_

More than two centuries ago, Robert Hooke, in the preface to his “Micrographia,” said,—

“And as glasses have highly promoted our seeing, so ’tis not improbable but that there may be found many mechanical inventions to improve our other senses, of hearing, smelling, tasting, touching. ’Tis not impossible to hear a whisper at a furlong’s distance, it having been already done; and perhaps the nature of the thing would not make it more impossible, though that furlong should be ten times multiplyed. And though some famous authors have affirmed it impossible to hear through the thinnest plate of Muscovy glass; yet I know a way by which ’tis easie enough to hear one speak through a wall a yard thick. It has not been yet thoroughly examin’d how far Otocousticons may be improv’d, nor what other ways there may be of quick’ning our hearing, or conveying sound through other bodies then [than] the air: for that is not the only medium. _I can assure the reader, that I have, by the help of a distended wire propagated the sound to a very considerable distance in an instant, or with as seemingly quick a motion as that of light_, at least incomparably swifter then [than] that which at the same time was propagated through the air; and this not only in a straight line, or direct, but in one bended in many angles.”

_Stenography_

A curious little book has been dug from out the dust of two centuries, and has been partially republished by the German newspapers for the purpose of proving that there is nothing new under the sun. The little book is entitled “Foolish Wisdom and Wise Foolishness,” and was written by an old-fashioned German political economist named Becher. At the time of its publication the book was regarded as something of a Munchausen narrative of the author’s travels through Europe. During his wanderings Becher became acquainted with most of the learned men on the Continent, and acquired much information concerning the scientific work of his day. He describes crude conceptions of the phonograph and the telephone by a Nuremburg optician named Fraur Gründler. He gives foreshadowings of an air-gun, aërial navigation, a universal language like Volapuk, and other things which would have gladdened Wendell Phillips when he was preparing his famous lecture on “The Lost Arts.”

During his tour of inquiry Becher discovered that in several regions outside of Germany many men had learned “to write down what others said, with wonderful rapidity, by means of strange characters.” “Englishmen have discovered a kind of tachygraphy,” he explains, “or an art which enables them to write as rapidly as the fastest speakers can talk. They have brought this wonderful art to such a degree of perfection that young persons often write out full sermons without a mistake. Orations in Parliament can be written out by this means as rapidly as they are delivered, which I regard as a very useful invention.” So much for stenography two centuries ago.

_The Great Fire of London_

The ever-memorable fire which destroyed fifteen of the twenty-six wards of the city of London, an area of four hundred and thirty-six acres, broke out at two o’clock on Sunday morning, September 2, 1666. On the preceding Friday London was forewarned of this calamity by a Quaker from Huntingdon, named Thomas Ibbott. Entering London on horseback, he dismounted and turned his horse loose; then, unbuttoning his garments, he ran about the streets, scattering his money and crying out, “So should they run up and down scattering their goods, half-undressed, like mad people, as he was a sign to them,”—a prediction to which no attention was paid at the time, but which was verified during the four days’ conflagration.

_The Plague of London_

Astrology, with its terrestrial theory of the heavens, its belief in planetary influences upon the earth and its inhabitants, and the arbitrary signification it gave to the astral bodies, singly or in conjunction, was largely concerned with the propagation of superstition. It accounted for and predicted the great plague of London, in 1665, by a conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in Sagittarius on the 10th of October, and a conjunction of Saturn and Mars in the same sign on the 12th of November. It took no note of the real causes of that and all other pestilences,—accumulation of sewage and filth, contamination of air and water, effluvia from putrefactive matter, noxious gases, soil exhalations, and overcrowding of man and beast. If, however, in his dealings with simple unsupported superstition the astrologer failed in his reasoning and his conclusions, we must credit him with laborious attempts to find some rationale.

_The Reformation_

An instance of a dying man punning upon his own name is furnished in the case of John Huss, the Bohemian Reformer. Huss was burned at the stake, in Constance, July 6, 1415, the anniversary of his birth. Shortly before he was overcome by the heat of the flames, he said, “It is thus that you silence the _goose_ (huss = a goose), but a hundred years hence there will arise a _swan_ whose singing you shall not be able to silence.” On November 10, 1483, was born Martin Luther, who is generally regarded, and rightly so, as having fulfilled this remarkable prophecy to the letter.

_Emancipation_

The following lines, prophetic of our Civil War, were written in 1850 by James Russell Lowell, in his “Capture of Certain Fugitive Slaves near Washington:”

“Out from the land of bondage ’tis decreed our slaves shall go,
And signs to us are offered as erst to Pharaoh;
If we are blind, their exodus, like Israel’s of yore,
Through a Red Sea, is doomed to be, whose surges are of gore.”

_The French Revolution_

In the “Memoirs of Madame Du Barry” is the following anecdote:

“The duchess (de Grammont) related that one evening, when M. de Carotte was at a large party, of which she made one, he was requested to consult the planets and make known what would be the destiny of the persons assembled there. This he evaded by every possible pretext, until, finding they would take no excuse, he declared that, of the whole of the company then before him, not one would escape a violent and public death, from which not even the king and queen would be exempt.”

_The White Lady_

The cholera was raging in Bavaria; several of the small mountain villages had been depopulated. King Ludwig, Queen Therese, and the Court remained at Aschaffenburg, as the pestilence was peculiarly fatal at Munich, a place Queen Therese disliked very much, when, unexpectedly, either on account of some state ceremonial or from one of his usual fits of restlessness, Ludwig announced that the Court would return to Munich in three days. On the evening before they started, the queen and several of her ladies were sitting in one of her apartments in the palace, the last but one of the suite. She was in low spirits, and all were unhappy at the prospect of the return to Munich. It was a warm summer evening, drawing towards dusk. Presently a lady, dressed in white, came into the room, and, making a slight reverence to the queen, passed on into the inner room, which opened from the one in which they were sitting. A few moments after she had passed it struck all present that they did not recognize her; also, that none of the other ladies on that day were wearing white dresses. The queen and some others arose from their seats and went into the room to see whom it might be, and found it empty! There was no mode of egress except the door by which they had entered, and the room was on the second story, so that no one could have got out of the window. Suddenly all felt that it must have been “the White Lady,” whose visit is believed to foretell the death of one of the Bavarian royal family, and some of the ladies fainted. The court went to Munich on the next day, according to appointment, and three days after Queen Therese died of cholera.

MISCELLANEA CURIOSA

_Loyalty to Prince, Disloyalty to Self_

A case of disinterested generosity and moral delinquency without a parallel is that recorded of a Scotch peasant, who sheltered the Pretender, Prince Charles Edward, after his defeat at Culloden Moor, in 1746, when the price of thirty thousand pounds was set upon his head, and who was afterwards hung for stealing a cow!

_Singular Expedient_

A strange story is that related in a paper on “English and Irish Juries,” in _All the Year Round_. The presiding judge in the case, Sir James Dyce, chief justice of the Court of Common Pleas, astonished at the verdict of acquittal in so plain a case, sought an interview with the foreman, who, having previously obtained a promise of secrecy during his lifetime, confessed that he had killed the man in a struggle in self-defence, and said that he had caused himself to be placed on the jury in order to insure his acquittal.

_Queer Parliamentary Enactment_

When the bill was in Parliament for building the famous bridge at Gloucester, there was a clause enacting that the commissioners should meet on the _first Monday_ in every month, “except the same should fall on Christmas day, Ash Wednesday, or Good Friday.” The blunder as to the last two is palpable, and a moment’s reflection would show that Christmas Day can never fall on the first Monday of the month. The mistake passed unobserved, and still stands in the Act.

_Bolingbroke’s Favorite Desk_

Among the satirical prints brought out in connection with the famous Treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, was a picture in which was represented what was said to be a very remarkable incident in the life of Lord Bolingbroke. In this picture he is seen sitting up in bed in a sort of dressing-gown. Leaning over the bed is a female as scantily attired as a Venus, and upon that part of her figure from which the Venus Callipyge took her name, Bolingbroke is signing a paper. This incident furnishes a strange picture of the manners of the times and of the recklessness of Bolingbroke.

_Fourth of March_

Several years ago an English journal, _The Owl_, published the following singular paragraph:

“It is not perhaps generally known to our readers that the reason which the founders of the American republic had for selecting the fourth of March for the inauguration of their President, was to avoid the occurrence of a _dies non_ by the incidence of that date on a Sunday. By calculation it was ascertained that for many hundreds of years the quadrennial recurrence of that day in the year of election invariably falls on a week day.”

In the face of this absurdly incorrect statement, and before it was written, the fourth of March fell twice on Sunday,—in 1821 and in 1849,—so that Monroe’s second inauguration and General Taylor’s inauguration each took place on Monday, March 5.

_The Powwow_

The mysterious performance known as the powwow among the North American aborigines dates back to time immemorial. David Brainerd says, in his Indian Narrative, “At a distance, with my Bible in my hand, I was resolved if possible to spoil their spirit of powwowing, and prevent their receiving an answer from the infernal world.” Elsewhere, speaking of the Delaware Indians and their medicine men, he says, “They are much awed by those among themselves who are called powwowers, who are supposed to have a power of enchanting or poisoning them to death.” The Esquimaux also have a sorcerer or diviner who conjures over the sick. Dr. Kane, in his “Arctic Explorations,” says of this Angekok, as he is called, that “he is the general counsellor who prescribes or powwows in sickness and over wounds, directs the policy of the little state, and is really the power behind the throne.”

_The Flowering Dogwood_

A correspondent wrote to the New York _Sun_ urging the claims of the dogwood flower (_Cornus florida_) to be chosen as the national flower, and in support of the claims told the following story:

“A British army was marching upon Washington’s camp, expecting to find him with a small force. In the distance, about where they expected to find the camp, the British scouts saw a hill covered with dogwood trees in blossom. They mistook the trees for tents, and returned with the report that Washington’s army was so large that its tents whitened the hills. The British were not prepared to meet a large army, and so retired, leaving Washington and his little army in peace.”

_Offensiveness Punished_

The following story of the Paris Commune was vouched for by an English spectator: “As several Versaillese were being led away to be shot, one man in the crowd that accompanied them to see the shooting made himself conspicuous by taunting and reviling the prisoners. ‘There, confound you,’ said one of the prisoners at last, ‘don’t you try to get out of it by edging off into the crowd and pretending you are one of them. Come back here; the game is up; let us all die together;’ and the crowd was so persuaded that the communard’s vehemence was only assumed to cloak his escape that he was marched into file with the prisoners and duly shot.”

_Ropes made of Women’s Hair_

Speaking before a meeting of the Methodist ministers, Bishop Fowler told of a new heathen temple in the northern part of Japan. It was of enormous size, and the timbers for the temple from their mountain homes were hauled up to the temple and put in place by ropes made from the hair of the women of the province. An edict went forth calling for the long hair of the women of the province, and two ropes were made from these tresses—one seventeen inches in circumference and fourteen hundred feet long, and the other ten to eleven inches around and two thousand six hundred feet long.

_Premonitory Caution_

We find it written of Simonides
That travelling in strange countries once he found
A corpse that lay expiring on the ground,
For which, with pain, he caused due obsequies
To be performed, and paid all holy fees.
Soon after, this man’s Ghost unto him came
And told him not to sail, as was his aim,
On board a ship then ready for the seas.
Simonides, admonished by the Ghost,
Remained behind; the ship the following day
Set sail, was wrecked, and all on board was lost.
Thus was the tenderest Poet that could be,
Who sang in ancient Greece his loving lay,
Saved out of many by his piety.

_Realism_

“To paint cuirassiers,” said Meissonier, “I must needs see them.” He accordingly took a dozen of this corps to his country home, where they were required to charge down the park every morning, but the evolution did not last long, and, before the artist had sketched an outline of the group, the gallant fellows were out of sight. “You must follow them by train,” said a friend. No sooner said than done. An engineer was summoned, rails were laid down, rolling stock purchased, and for several weeks Meissonier accompanied the charge of his models by train. But it was summer, and historical accuracy required that the cuirassiers should dash over snowy ground. Thousands of bushels of flour were then laid down in the park, and the cuirassiers as they charged became enveloped in clouds of farina. The illusion was complete, the studies admirable, and the finished picture sold.

_He couldn’t have shot him_

Mr. William Hemphill Jones, formerly Deputy Comptroller of the Treasury, was the man to whom General Dix telegraphed, “If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot.” The order was grand, but it becomes almost ridiculous when you see the amiable gentleman to whom it was sent, and imagine him receiving it alone and unarmed, as a treasury clerk sent to New Orleans on public business, and surrounded by an infuriated mob. Never was a man more powerless to obey an order.

_Cromwell’s Grace_

Oliver Cromwell usually said the following grace before meals: “Some people have food, but no appetite; others have an appetite, but no food. I have both. The Lord be praised!” or words to this effect.

Burns’s version, which he calls the Selkirk grace, is as follows:

“Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.”

_The Ocean Depths_

The greatest depths known of the sea is in the South Atlantic Ocean, midway between the island of Tristan d’Acunha and the mouth of the Rio de la Plata. The bottom was there reached at a depth of 40,236 feet, or eight and three-quarter miles, exceeding by more than 17,000 feet the height of Mount Everest, the loftiest mountain in the world. In the North Atlantic Ocean, south of Newfoundland, soundings have been made to a depth of 4580 fathoms, or 27,480 feet, while depths equalling 34,000 feet, or six and a half miles, are reported south of the Bermuda Islands. The average depth of the Pacific Ocean between Japan and California is a little over 2000 fathoms; between Chili and the Sandwich Islands, 2500 fathoms; and between Chili and New Zealand, 1500 fathoms. The average depth of all the oceans is from 2000 to 2500 fathoms.

_Pleasant Reading_

The late Abraham Hayward, distinguished in his time as a man of letters, was instrumental in making public the fact that Lord Beaconsfield, in his speech on the Duke of Wellington’s death, had cribbed from M. Thiers a considerable part of his eulogium. On the night when this discovery was first unfolded, in the London _Globe_, Mrs. Disraeli, unconscious of the coming storm, went out to a party, and, entering the room, announced in loud tones, proud of her lord’s new honor, “I left the Chancellor of the Exchequer reading the evening paper.” “Oh, what delightful reading he will find in it!” responded a malicious Whig peer.

_Bismarck in the Language of the Spirits_

On the eve of the Franco-German War, Napoleon III., as superstitious a man as his uncle, was present at a table-turning seance at the Tuileries, when a courtier, expecting doubtless some fulsome bit of flattery from the oracle, asked the question, “Who is to be the victor in this war?”

Two sharp raps were the immediate answer, but no one present could interpret them in accordance with the usual code of signs. A second time the inquiry was made and received the same distinct reply, to the emperor’s evident displeasure.

At last when a third trial had brought the same persistent result, he could stand the experiment no longer, and, with an irritated “What can a double rap signify but _bis-mark_?” he left the room.

_The Age of Niagara Falls_

The last word on this much-discussed subject, which is of great geologic importance, because the falls have been made to serve as a sort of standard by which all geologic time is measured, comes from J. W. Spencer, who concludes from the measured rate of recession during forty-eight years, together with other geologic data not usually taken into account, that the falls are thirty-one thousand years old, and the river thirty-two thousand; also that the Huron drainage was turned into Lake Erie less than eight thousand years ago. He thinks that the lake epoch began fifty thousand or sixty thousand years ago, and that the falls have about five thousand years more to live, at the end of which time the lake waters will discharge into the Mississippi.

_Tools of the Pyramid Builders_

Mr. Petrie’s researches at Gizeh show that the Egyptian stone-workers, four thousand years ago, had a surprising acquaintance with what have been considered modern tools. Among the many tools used by the pyramid-builders were both solid and tubular drills and straight and circular saws. The drills, like those of the present time, were set with jewels (probably corundum, as the diamond was very scarce), and even lathe-tools had such cutting edges. So remarkable was the quality of the tubular drills and the skill of the workmen that the cutting marks in hard granite give no indication of wear of the tool, while a cut of a tenth of an inch was made in the hardest rock at each revolution, and a hole through both the hardest and softest material was bored perfectly smooth and uniform throughout.

_A Distant World_

It is impossible for the finite mind to comprehend the vastness of the spaces that separate us from the stars, even from those that are nearest. Some idea of our marvellous distance from Sirius, the nearest fixed star, and which shines brightest in the heavens, is given by this illustration. A scientific writer says that if people on the star Sirius have telescopes powerful enough to distinguish objects on our planet, and are looking at it now, they are witnessing the destruction of Jerusalem, which took place more than eighteen hundred years ago. The reason of this is that the light which the world reflects, travelling as it does at the rate of one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles per second, would take over eighteen centuries to reach the nearest fixed star.

_A Matter of Form_

The following is a brief extract from a law paper, for the full understanding of which it has to be kept in view that the pleader, being an officer of the law, who has been prevented from executing his warrant by threats, is required, as a matter of form, to swear that he was really afraid that the threat would be carried into execution:

“Farther depones, that the said A. B. said that if deponent did not immediately take himself off he would pitch him (the deponent) down stairs,—which the deponent verily believes he would have done.

“Farther depones, that, time and place aforesaid, the said A. B. said to deponent, ‘If you come another step nearer, I’ll kick you to hell,’—which the deponent verily believes he would have done.”

_Sweet Auburn_

Thousands of American tourists, while in London, stand reverentially beside the grave of Oliver Goldsmith in the old burial ground of the Temple, or curiously examine the room in Wine Office Court in which he wrote the “Vicar of Wakefield.” But how many of all these thousands have ever visited the _locale_ of the “Deserted Village?” Lissoy, the Auburn of the poet, is on the road that runs from Athlone to Ballymahon, not more than fifty or sixty miles west of Dublin, yet there is nothing in Westmeath to attract strangers. The general impression is that when the “one only master,” General Napier, grasped the whole domain, and dispossessed and removed the _cottiers_ to make room for his projected improvements, the village was dismantled and effaced. It is said, however, that a descendant of General Napier afterwards did something in the way of restoration. Be this as it may, the ruined walls of the alehouse, the “busy mill,” and the “decent church” on the hill are still standing.

_Importance of Punctuation_

The dowager Czarina is a great favorite in Russia. Among other stories illustrating her character is this: She saw on her husband’s table a document regarding a political prisoner. On the margin Alexander III. had written, “Pardon impossible; to be sent to Siberia.” The Czarina took up the pen and, striking out the semicolon after “impossible,” put it before the word. Then the indorsement read, “Pardon; impossible to be sent to Siberia.” The Czar let it stand.

_Bottled Tears_

In Persia the past and the present are linked by the belief that human tears are a remedy for certain chronic diseases. At every funeral the bottling of mourners’ tears forms a prominent feature of the ceremonies. Every mourner is presented with a sponge with which to mop off the cheeks and eyes, and after the burial the moistened sponges are presented to the priest who squeezes the tears into bottles which he keeps for curative purposes. This is one of the most ancient of the Eastern customs; it is referred to in the eighth verse of the fifty-sixth Psalm, where David says, “put thou my tears into thy bottle;” and according to the testimony of a physician recently returned from a visit to Persia, the custom is still practised by the Persians as it was thousands of years ago.

_As you read it_

It is said that a professed atheist once had a motto on one of his walls bearing the words “God is Nowhere.” His little daughter, just beginning to read, came into the room and began to spell, “G-o-d God, I-s Is, N-o-w Now, H-e-r-e Here—God is now here.” The father was at once aroused and excited. We do not ask which was right, but notice that the meaning depends on how you read, and the possible meanings are as opposite as the poles.

_A Story of Witchcraft_

When Lord Chief Justice Holt presided in the Court of King’s Bench (1690), a poor decrepit old woman was brought before him charged with witchcraft. “What is the proof?” asked his lordship. “She has a powerful spell,” answered the prosecutor. “Let me see it.” The “spell” was handed up to the bench. It proved to be a small ball of variously colored rags of silk, bound with threads of as many different hues. These were unwound and unfolded, until there was revealed a scrap of parchment, on which were written certain characters now nearly illegible from constant use. “Is this the spell?” asked the judge. The prosecutor replied that it was. After attentive scrutiny of the charm, the judge, turning to the old creature, said, “Prisoner, how came you by this?” “A young gentleman, my lord, gave it to me to cure my child’s ague.” “How long since?” “Thirty years, my lord.” “And did it cure the child?” “Oh, yes, sir; and many others.” “I am glad of it.” The judge paused a few moments, and then addressed the jury as follows: “Gentlemen of the jury, thirty years ago, I and some companions, as thoughtless as myself, went to this woman’s place, then a public house, and, after enjoying ourselves, found we had no means to discharge the reckoning. I had recourse to a stratagem. Observing a child ill of an ague, I pretended I had a spell to cure her. I wrote the classic line you see on that scrap of parchment, and was discharged of the demand on me by the gratitude of the poor woman before us for the supposed benefit.”

_Circumstantial Evidence_

At a table-d’hôte at Ludwigsburg one of the company showed a very rare gold coin, which was passed around for inspection. After conjectures as to its origin and value, conversation drifted to other subjects, and the coin was temporarily forgotten. After awhile, the owner asked for it, and to the surprise of all, it was not to be found. A gentleman sitting at the foot of the table was observed to be in much agitation, and as his embarrassment seemed to increase with the continuance of the search the company was about to propose a very disagreeable measure, when suddenly a waiter entered the room, saying, “Here is the coin; it was found in one of the finger-glasses.” The relief to all was manifest, and now the suspected stranger broke his silence thus: “None of you can rejoice more than myself at the recovery of the coin, for I have been placed in a painful situation. By a singular coincidence I have a duplicate of the very same coin in my purse (here showing it to the company). The idea that on the personal search which would probably be proposed I would be taken for the purloiner of the coin, added to the fact that I am a stranger here, with no one to vouch for my integrity, was distracting. The honesty of the servants, with a lucky accident, has saved my honor.” The friendly congratulations of the company soon effaced the unpleasant effect of their unwarranted suspicions.

_A Little Beggar’s Charity_

A touching little begging story with a good moral is told by the Pittsburg _Telegraph_. A young man who had been on a three days’ debauch wandered into the office room of a hotel, where he was well known, sat down, and stared moodily into the street. Presently a little girl of about ten years came in and looked timidly about the room. She was dressed in rags, but she had a sweet, intelligent face that could scarcely fail to excite sympathy. There were five persons in the room, and she went to each begging. One gentleman gave her a five-cent piece, and she then went to the gentleman spoken of and asked him for a penny, adding: “I haven’t had anything to eat for a whole day.” The gentleman was out of humor, and he said, crossly: “Don’t bother me; go away! I haven’t had anything to eat for three days.” The child opened her eyes in shy wonder and stared at him a moment, and then walked slowly towards the door. She turned the knob, and then after hesitating a few seconds, walked up to him, and gently laying the five cents she had received on his knee, said with a tone of true girlish pity in her voice, “If you haven’t had anything to eat for three days, you take this and go and buy some bread. Perhaps I can get some more somewhere.” The young fellow blushed to the roots of his hair, and lifted the Sister of Charity in his arms, kissed her two or three times in delight. Then he took her to the persons in the room, and to those in the corridors and in the office, and told the story and asked contributions, giving himself all the money he had with him. He succeeded in raising over forty dollars and sent the little one on her way rejoicing.

_Jack Sprat_

Enthusiasts in folk-lore have undertaken to prove that subtle allegories or abstruse theological dogmas are the basis of popular tales. That in the celebrated story of Jack Sprat, for example, it is possible to discern an emblem of a rapacious clergy and an equally greedy aristocracy devouring the substance of the commons.

_Franklin’s Brown Coat_

When Benjamin Franklin, as minister to France, was formally presented to Louis XVI., he gained admiration for republican simplicity by appearing in a plain, ordinary suit. But when Nathaniel Hawthorne made the discovery that Franklin’s tailor had disappointed him of the gold-embroidered court costume he had ordered, simple-minded republicans were considerably disconcerted.

_Sources of History_

Early in the sixteenth century four Franciscan monks, living in a monastery in Donegal, compiled from a tangled web of tradition, song, story, and legend, the annals upon which all subsequent _histories_ of Ireland have been based.

_A Long Name_

Probably the longest name in the world is attached to the daughter of Arthur Pepper, laundryman. The name of his daughter, born 1883, is Anna Bertha Cecilia Diana Emily Fanny Gertrude Hypatia Inez Jane Kate Louisa Maud Nora Ophelia Quince Rebecca Sarah Teresa Ulysses Venus Winifred Xenophon Yetty Zeus Pepper, one title for every letter of the alphabet.

_Hero Worship_