Referring to the earliest Christian writers, who witnessed the

crucifixion of hundreds of their martyred brethren, it will be seen that

the foregoing statement of Salmasius respecting the true form of the

cross is well founded. Irenæus, Bishop of Lyons, in the second century,

says: “The structure of the cross has five ends or summits, two in

length, two in breadth, and one in the middle, on which the crucified

person rests.” Justin, another Christian writer of the same period, who

acquired the surname of Martyr from the cruel death he suffered for his

faith, also speaks of “that end projecting from the middle of the

upright post like a horn, on which crucified persons are seated.”

Tertullian, another Christian writer, who lived a little later, says: “A

part, and, indeed, a principal part, of the cross is any post which is

fixed in an upright position; but to us the entire cross is imputed,

including its transverse beam, and the projecting bar which serves as a

seat.”

This fact (of the sufferer being seated) will account for the long

duration of the punishment; the wounds in the hands and feet did not

lacerate any large vessel, and were nearly closed by the nails which

produced them. The Rev. Alban Butler, in his _Lives of the Saints_,

gives numerous instances of the lingering nature of this mode of

execution, and of the wonderful heroism displayed by the Christians who

underwent it. The Pagan historians also narrate instances of similar

heroism on the part of political offenders, who were put to death on the

Cross. Bomilcar, the commander of the Carthaginian army in Sicily,

having shown a disposition to desert to the enemy, was nailed to a

gibbet in the middle of the forum; but “from the height of the Cross, as

from a tribunal, he declaimed against the crimes of the citizens; and

having spoken thus with a loud voice amid an immense concourse of the

people, he expired.” Crucifixion has been practised from the remotest

ages in the East, and is still occasionally resorted to in Turkey,

Madagascar, and Northern Africa. The Jewish historian, Josephus, states

that the chief baker of Pharaoh, whose dream had been interpreted by

Joseph, was _crucified_, though Scripture says he was _hanged_; but this

may mean hanged on a cross, for the expression seems to be almost

equivalent to crucified, as appears from Galatians, chap. III. v. 13.

“Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse

for us; for it is written, ‘Cursed is every one that hangeth on a

tree.’” As regards art, it is not now to be expected that the example

set by the great masters will be discarded. In this, as in other

matters, custom is law, whose arbitrary sway will be exercised in spite

of facts.

SINGULAR COINCIDENCES.

A. was walking with a friend near Oxford, when a snipe rose within shot.

They both “presented” their walking-sticks at the bird, remarking what a

“pretty shot” it would have been for a gun. The snipe flew on a short

distance, then towered, and fell dead. When examined, the bird was found

to be apparently uninjured; but a close examination discovered the trace

of a former injury, which had led to the rupture of a blood-vessel. If,

instead of a walking-stick a gun had been presented and discharged at

the bird, no one would have ventured to doubt that the death of the bird

was due to the gun.

* * * * *

A young officer in the army of the famous Wolfe was apparently dying of

an abscess in the lungs. He was absent from his regiment on sick-leave;

but resolved to rejoin it, when a battle was expected. “For,” said he,

“since I am given over, I had better be doing my duty; and my life’s

being shortened a few days, matters not.” He received a shot which

_pierced the abscess_, and made an opening for the discharge. He

recovered, and lived to the age of eighty.

* * * * *

In the United Service Museum, (Whitehall Yard, London,) are exhibited

the “jaws of a shark,” wide open, and enclosing a tin box. The history

of this strange exhibition is as follows:—A ship, on her way to the West

Indies, “fell in with” and chased a suspicious-looking craft, which had

all the appearance of a slaver. During the pursuit, the chase threw

something overboard. She was subsequently captured, and taken into Port

Royal to be tried as a slaver. In absence of the ship’s papers and other

proofs, the slaver was not only in a fair way to escape condemnation,

but her captain was anticipating the recovery of pecuniary damages

against his captor for illegal detention. While the subject was under

discussion, a vessel came into port, which had followed closely in the

track of the chase above described. She had caught a shark; and in its

stomach was found a tin box, which contained the slaver’s papers. Upon

the strength of this evidence the slaver was condemned. The written

account is attached to the box.

* * * * *

A. B. was present while some “tricks in cards” were being exhibited by a

professional juggler. He took a fresh pack of cards, and directed the

company to take out a card from the pack, to replace it, and shuffle the

pack. This being done, A. B. took the pack in his hand and carelessly

tossed on the table a card, which proved to be the correct one. The

professor, in the utmost surprise and admiration, offered to give A. B.

three of his best tricks if he would give him the secret of the trick

which he had just exhibited. A. B. coolly declined the offer, and

concealed the fact that it was all _chance_, in the purest sense of the

word, that led to the selection of the proper card from the pack.

* * * * *

Upon the death of a seaman, some money became payable to his widow,

Elizabeth Smith, No. 20 (of a certain, say “King”) Street, Wapping. The

government agent called at No. 20 King Street, and finding that

Elizabeth Smith lived there, paid the money without further inquiry.

Subsequently the true widow, Elizabeth Smith, turned up; and it was then

discovered that, at the very time the money was paid, the street was

being _re-numbered_, and there were _two_ houses numbered 20; and what

was most remarkable, there was an Elizabeth Smith living in each of

them.

* * * * *

Some time in the last century, a Mrs. Stephens professed to have

received from her husband a medicine for dissolving “the stone in the

bladder,” and offered to sell it to government. In order to test the

virtue of this medicine, a patient was selected who had undeniably the

complaint in question. He took the medicine, and was soon quite well.

The doctors watched him anxiously, and when he died, many years after,

he was seized by them, and the body examined. It was then discovered

that the stone had made for itself a little sac in the bladder, and was

so tightly secured that it had never caused any inconvenience.

Government, however, (somewhat prematurely,) rewarded Mrs. Stephens with

a sum of £10,000. The cure appeared to have been purely accidental, as

the remedy was nothing but potash, which has little or no virtue in such

cases.

* * * * *

A gentleman of fortune, named Angerstein, lost a large quantity of

valuable plate. His butler was soon on the track of the thieves, (who

had brought a coach to carry the plate), and enquired at the first

turnpike gate whether any vehicle had lately passed. The gate-keeper

stated that a hackney-coach had shortly before gone through; and though

he was surprised at its passing by so early in the morning, he had not

noticed the “number” on the coach. A servant girl, hearing the

conversation, volunteered her statement, that she saw the coach pass by,

and its number was “45.” As the girl _could not read_, they were

surprised at her knowing the “number.” She stated that she knew it well,

as being the same number she had long seen about the walls everywhere,

which she knew was “45,” as every one was speaking of it. This allusion

of the girl’s was in reference to the “Wilkes” disturbances, when the

45th number of the _True Briton_ was prosecuted, and caused a great deal

of public excitement. Mr. Angerstein’s butler went at once to London and

found out the driver of the hackney-coach No. 45, who at once drove him

to the place where the plate was deposited, and it was all recovered.

* * * * *

Some years since, in the “Temple,” was a vertical sun-dial, with the

motto, “Be gone about your business.” It is stated that this very

appropriate motto was the result of the following blunder:—When the dial

was erected, the benchers were applied to for a motto. They desired the

“builder’s man” to call at the library at a certain hour on a certain

day, when he should receive instructions. But they forgot the whole

matter. On the appointed day and hour the “builder’s man” called at the

library, and found only a lawyer in close study over a law book. The man

stated the cause of his intrusion, which suited so badly the lawyer’s

time and leisure that he bid the man sharply “Be gone about your

business.” The lawyer’s testy reply was duly painted in big letters upon

the dial, and was considered so apposite that it was not only allowed to

remain, but was considered to be as appropriate a motto as could be

chosen.

* * * * *

Two men in France took shelter in a barn for the night. In the morning

one of them was found dead, with severe injury to the head. The comrade

was at once arrested, and told some “cock-and-bull” story about the

terrible storm of the night in question, and attributed his companion’s

death to the effect of a thunderbolt. He was not credited: and was in a

fair way to be executed for the supposed crime. A scientific gentleman,

hearing of the circumstance, examined the place, and found a hole in the

roof of the barn, and an aërolite close to the spot where the deceased

had slept on the night in question. The innocence of the accused was at

once considered as established, and he was released.

* * * * *

Now, even in these cases, there is nothing _supernatural_, or even

_un_natural; i.e., there is nothing to _prevent_ the occurrence. The

improbability is only from the enormous number of chances against each.

But when any German theologian, or other, pretends to _explain a series_

of alleged _miracles_ as mere _accidents_, he should be reminded that

the chances are _multiplied_ against each repeated occurrence. If, e.g.,

the chances against a person’s bagging a snipe, which died accidentally

just as he pointed a stick or a gun at it, be only 1/1000, then, against

his thus obtaining _two_, the chances would be 1/1000000, and so on. No

one familiar with what is sometimes called the _Doctrine of Chances_ but

more correctly called the _Theory of Probabilities_, would believe that

a sportsman could bring home a bag full of game, _every_ bird having

died _accidentally_ just when shot at.

CHICK IN THE EGG.

The hen has scarcely sat on the egg twelve hours, when we begin already

to discover in it some lineaments of the head and body of the chicken

that is to be born. The heart appears to beat at the end of the day; at

the end of forty-eight hours, two vesicles of blood can be

distinguished, the pulsation of which is very visible. At the fiftieth

hour, an auricle of the heart appears, and resembles a lace, or noose

folded down upon itself. At the end of seventy hours, we distinguish

wings, and on the head two bubbles for the brain; one for the bill, and

two others for the forepart and hindpart of the head; the liver appears

towards the fifth day. At the end of one hundred and thirty-one hours,

the first voluntary motion is observed. At the end of one hundred and

thirty-eight hours the lungs and stomach become visible; at the end of

one hundred and forty-two, the intestines, the loins, and the upper jaw.

The seventh day, the brain, which was slimy, begins to have some

consistence. At the 190th hour of incubation, the bill opens, and the

flesh appears in the breast. At the 194th, the sternum is seen, that is

to say, the breastbone. At the 210th, the ribs come out of the back, the

bill is very visible, as well as the gall-bladder. The bill becomes

green at the end of two hundred and thirty-six hours; and if the chick

is taken out of its covering, it evidently moves itself. The feathers

begin to shoot out towards the 240th hour, and the skull becomes

gristly. At the 264th, the eyes appear. At the 288th, the ribs are

perfect. At the 331st, the spleen draws near to the stomach, and the

lungs to the chest. At the end of three hundred and fifty-five hours,

the bill frequently opens and shuts; and at the end of four hundred and

fifty-one hours, or the eighteenth day, the first cry of the chick is

already heard: it afterwards gets more strength, and grows continually,

till at last it sets itself at liberty, by opening the prison in which

it was shut up. Thus is it by so many different degrees that these

creatures are brought into life. All these progressions are made by

rule, and there is not one of them without sufficient reason. No part of

its body could appear sooner or later without the whole embryo

suffering; and each of its limbs appears at the proper moment. How

manifestly is this ordination—so wise, and so invariable in the

production of the animal—the work of a Supreme Being!

INNATE APPETITE.

McKenzie, in his _Phrenological Essays_, mentions the following curious

fact, witnessed by Sir James Hall. He had been engaged in making some

experiments on hatching eggs by artificial heat, and on one occasion

observed in one of his boxes a chicken in the act of breaking from its

confinement. It happened that just as the creature was getting out of

the shell, a spider began to run along the box, when the chicken darted

forward, seized and swallowed it.

THE INDIAN AND HIS TAMED SNAKE.

An Indian had tamed a blacksnake, which he kept about him during the

summer months. In autumn he let the creature go whither it chose to

crawl, but told it to come to him again upon a certain day, which he

named, in the spring. A white man who was present, and saw what was

done, and heard the Indian affirm that the serpent would return to him

the very day he had appointed, had no faith in the truth of his

prediction. The next spring, however, retaining the day in his memory,

curiosity led him to the place, where he found the Indian in waiting;

and, after remaining with him about two hours, the serpent came crawling

back, and put himself under the care of his old master.

In this case, the Indian had probably observed that blacksnakes usually

return to their old haunts at the same vernal season; and as he had

tamed, fed, and kept this snake in a particular place, experience taught

him that it would return on a certain day.

ALLIGATORS SWALLOWING STONES.

The Indians on the banks of the Oronoko assert that previously to an

alligator going in search of prey it always swallows a large stone, that

it may acquire additional weight to aid it in diving and dragging its

victims under water. A traveller being somewhat incredulous on this

point, Bolivar, to convince him, shot several with his rifle, and in all

of them were found stones varying in weight according to the size of the

animal. The largest killed was about seventeen feet in length, and had

within him a stone weighing about sixty or seventy pounds.

HABITS OF SHEEP.

Never jumps a sheep that’s frightened

Over any fence whatever,

Over wall, or fence, or timber,

But a second follows after,

And a third upon the second,

And a fourth, and fifth, and so on,

When they see the tail uplifted,—

First a sheep, and then a dozen,

Till they all, in quick succession,

One by one, have got clear over.

Dr. Anderson, of Liverpool, relates the following amusing illustration

of the singularly persevering disposition of sheep to follow their

leader wherever he goes:—

A butcher’s boy was driving about twenty fat wethers through the town,

but they ran down a street where he did not want them to go. He observed

a scavenger at work, and called out loudly for him to stop the sheep.

The man accordingly did what he could to turn them back, running from

side to side, always opposing himself to their passage, and brandishing

his broom with great dexterity; but the sheep, much agitated, pressed

forward, and at last one of them came right up to the man, who, fearing

it was going to jump over his head, whilst he was stooping, grasped the

broom with both hands and held it over his head. He stood for a few

seconds in this position, when the sheep made a spring and jumped fairly

over him, without touching the broom. The first had no sooner cleared

this impediment than another followed, and another, in quick succession,

so that the man, perfectly confounded, seemed to lose all recollection,

and stood in the same attitude till the whole of them had jumped over

him, and not one attempted to pass on either side, although the street

was quite clear.

REMARKABLE EQUESTRIAN EXPEDITIONS.

Mr. Cooper Thornhill, an innkeeper at Stilton, in Huntingdonshire, rode

from that place to London and back again, and also a second time to

London, in one day,—which made a journey in all of two hundred and

thirteen miles. He undertook to ride this journey with several horses in

fifteen hours, but performed it in twelve hours and a quarter. This

remarkable feat gave rise to a poem called the Stilton Hero, which was

published in the year 1745.

Some years ago, Lord James Cavendish rode from Hyde Park Corner to

Windsor Lodge, which is upwards of twenty miles, in less than an hour.

Sir Robert Cary rode nearly three hundred miles in less than three days,

when he went from London to Edinburgh to inform King James of the death

of Queen Elizabeth. He had several falls and sore bruises on the road,

which occasioned his going battered and bloody into the royal presence.

On the 29th of August, 1750, was decided at Newmarket a remarkable wager

for one thousand guineas, laid by Theobald Taaf, Esq., against the Earl

of March and Lord Eglinton, who were to provide a four-wheel carriage

with a man in it, to be drawn by four horses nineteen miles in an hour.

The match was performed in fifty-three minutes and twenty-four seconds.

An engraved model of the carriage was formerly sold in the print-shops.

The Marquis de la Fayette rode in August, 1778, from Rhode Island to

Boston, nearly seventy miles distant, in seven hours, and returned in

six and a half.

Mr. Fozard, of Park Lane, London, for a wager of one hundred and fifty

pounds against one hundred pounds, undertook to ride forty miles in two

hours, over Epsom course. He rode two miles more than had been agreed

on, and performed it in five minutes under time, in October, 1789.

Mr. Wilde, an Irish gentleman, lately rode one hundred and twenty-seven

miles on the course of Kildare, in Ireland, in six hours and twenty

minutes, for a wager of one thousand guineas.

The famous Count de Montgomery escaped from the massacre of Paris in

1572, through the swiftness of his horse, which, according to a

manuscript of that time, carried him ninety miles without halting.

WONDERFUL HORSE.

In the year 1609, an Englishman named Banks had a horse which he had

trained to follow him wherever he went, even over fences and to the

roofs of buildings. He and his horse went to the top of that immensely

high structure, St. Paul’s Church. After many extraordinary performances

at home, the horse and his master went to Rome, where they performed

feats equally astonishing. But the result was that both Banks and his

horse were burned, by order of the Pope, as enchanters. Sir Walter

Raleigh observes, that had Banks lived in olden times, he would have

shamed all the enchanters of the world, for no beast ever performed such

wonders as his.

Fortunately, for men like Thorne, and Rice, and Franconi, who have been

so successful in training the noblest animal in creation for the

stage-representations of Mazeppa, Putnam’s Leap, &c., and for the

various and fantastic tricks which have won so much admiration and

applause, the present age is not disgraced by such besotted ignorance

and superstition.

WONDERFUL LOCK.

Among the wonderful products of art in the French Crystal Palace was

shown a lock which admits of 3,674,385 combinations. Heuret passed a

hundred and twenty nights in locking it, and Fichet was four months in

unlocking it; now they can neither shut nor open it.

CELERITY OF CLOTH-MANUFACTURE.

Many accounts have been published of the celerity with which

manufacturers of cloth, both English and American, have completed the

various parts of the process, from the fleece to the garment. In England

the fleece was taken from the sheep, manufactured into cloth, and the

cloth made into a coat, in the short space of thirteen hours and twenty

minutes. Messrs. Buck, Brewster & Co., proprietors of the Ontario

manufactory at Manchester, Vermont, on perusing an account of this

English achievement, conceived, from the perfection of their machinery

and the dexterity of their workmen, that the same operations might be

accomplished even in a shorter time. A wager of five hundred dollars was

offered, and accepted, that they would perform the same operations in

twelve hours. The wool was taken from the sack in its natural state, and

in nine hours and fifteen minutes precisely, the coat was completed, and

worn in triumph by one of the party concerned. The wool was picked,

greased, carded, roped, and spun,—the yarn was worked, put into the loom

and woven,—the cloth was fulled, colored, and four times shorn, pressed,

and carried to the tailor’s, and the coat completed,—all within the time

above stated. The cloth was not of the finest texture, but was very

handsomely dressed, and fitted the person who wore it remarkably well.

The only difference between this and the English experiment was the time

occupied in shearing the fleece; and any wool-grower knows that this

part of the operation may be performed in ten minutes.

CRUDE VALUE _versus_ INDUSTRIAL VALUE.

Algarotti, in his Opuscula, gives the following example to show the

prodigious addition of value that may be given to an object by skill and

industry. A pound weight of pig-iron costs the operative manufacturer

about five cents. This is worked up into steel, of which is made the

little spiral spring that moves the balance-wheel of a watch. Each of

these springs weighs but the tenth part of a grain, and, when completed,

may be sold as high as $3.00, so that out of a pound of iron, allowing

something for the loss of metal, eighty thousand of these springs may be

made, and a substance worth but five cents be wrought into a value of

$240,000.

An American gentleman says, that during a recent visit to Manchester,

England, a pound of cotton, which in its crude state may have been worth

eight cents, was pointed out to him as worth a pound of gold. It had

been spun into a thread that would go round the globe at the equator and

tie in a good large knot of many hundred miles in length.

QUANTITY AND VALUE.

For what is worth in any thing

But so much money as ’twill bring?—§Butler.§

When emeralds were first discovered in America, a Spaniard carried one

to a lapidary in Italy, and asked him what it was worth; he was told a

hundred _escudos_. He produced a second, which was larger; and that was

valued at three hundred. Overjoyed at this, he took the lapidary to his

lodging and showed him a chest full; but the Italian, seeing so many,

damped his joy by saying, “Ah ha, Señor! so many!—these are worth _one_

escudo.”

Montenegro presented to the elder Almagro the first cat which was

brought to South America, and was rewarded for it with six hundred

_pesos_. The first couple of cats which were carried to Cuyaba sold for

a pound of gold. There was a plague of rats in the settlement, and they

were purchased as a speculation, which proved an excellent one. Their

first kittens produced thirty _oitavas_ each; the next generation were

worth twenty; and the price gradually fell as the inhabitants were

stocked with these beautiful and useful creatures.

Could every hailstone to a pearl be turned,

Pearls in the mart like oyster-shells were spurned!

AMOUNT OF GOLD IN THE WORLD.

Estimate the yard of gold at £2,000,000, (which it is in round numbers,)

and all the gold in the world might, if melted into ingots, be contained

in a cellar twenty-four feet square and sixteen feet high. All the

boasted wealth already obtained from California and Australia would go

into a safe nine feet square and nine feet high; so small is the cube of

yellow metal that has set populations on the march and occasioned such

wondrous revolutions in the affairs of the world.

The contributions of the people, in the time of David, for the

sanctuary, exceeded £6,800,000. The immense treasure David is said to

have collected for the sanctuary amounted to £889,000,000 sterling,

(Crito says £798,000,000,)—a sum greater than the British national debt.

The gold with which Solomon overlaid the “most holy place,” a room only

thirteen feet square, amounted to more than thirty-eight millions

sterling.

The products of the California mines from 1853 to 1858 are put down at

$443,091,000; those of Australia, since their discovery, at

$296,813,000; or $739,904,000 in all,—an increase of about one-third,

according to the best statistical writers, on the value of this precious

metal known in 1850. The total value of gold in the world at the present

time, then, is but little more than $3,000,000,000.

IMMENSE WEALTH OF THE ROMANS.

Crassus’ landed estate was valued at $8,333,330

His house was valued at 400,000

Cæcilius Isidorus, after having lost much, left 5,235,800

Demetrius, a freedman of Pompey, was worth 3,875,000

Lentulus, the augur, no less than 16,666,666

Clodius, who was slain by Milo, paid for his house 616,666

He once swallowed a pearl worth 40,000

Apicius was worth more than 4,583,350

And after he had spent in his kitchen, and otherwise

squandered, immense sums, to the amount of 4,166,666

He poisoned himself, leaving 416,666

The establishment belonging to M. Scarus, and burned at

Tusculum, was valued at 4,150,000

Gifts and bribes may be considered signs of great riches:

Cæsar presented Servilia, the mother of Brutus, with a

pearl worth 200,000

Paulus, the consul, was bribed by Cæsar with the sum of 292,000

Curio contracted debts to the amount of 2,500,000

Milo contracted a debt of 2,915,666

Antony owed at the Ides of March, which he paid before the

Calends of April 1,666,666

He had squandered altogether 735,000,000

Seneca had a fortune of 17,500,000

Tiberius left at his death, and Caligula spent in less

than twelve months, 118,120,000

Caligula spent for one supper 150,000

Heliogabalus in the same manner 100,000

The suppers of Lucullus at the Apollo cost 8,330

Horace says that Pegellus, a singer, could in five days

spend 40,000

Herrius’ fish-ponds sold for 166,000

Calvinus Labinus purchased many learned slaves, none of

them at a price less than 4,165

Stage-players sold much higher.

WINE AT TWO MILLIONS A BOTTLE.

Wine at two millions of dollars a bottle is a drink that in expense

would rival the luxurious taste of barbaric splendor, when priceless

pearls were thrown into the wine-cup to give a rich flavor to its

contents; yet that there is such a costly beverage, is a fixed fact. In

the Rose apartment (so called from a bronze bas-relief) of the ancient

cellar under the Hotel de Ville in the city of Bremen is the famous

Rosenwein, deposited there nearly two centuries and a half ago. There

were twelve large cases, each bearing the name of one of the apostles;

and the wine of Judas, despite the reprobation attached to his name, is

to this day more highly esteemed than the others. One case of the wine,

containing five oxhoft of two hundred and four bottles, cost five

hundred rix-dollars in 1624. Including the expenses of keeping up the

cellar, and of the contributions, interests of the amounts, and

interests upon interests, an oxhoft costs at the present time

555,657,640 rix-dollars, and consequently a bottle is worth 2,723,812

rix-dollars; a glass, or the eighth part of a bottle, is worth 340,476

rix-dollars, or $272,380; or at the rate of 540 rix-dollars, or $272,

per drop. A burgomaster of Bremen is privileged to have one bottle

whenever he entertains a distinguished guest who enjoys a German or

European reputation. The fact illustrates the operation of interest, if

it does not show the cost of luxury.

CAPACIOUS BEER-CASKS.

A few years before Mr. Thrale’s death, which happened in 1781, an

emulation arose among the brewers to exceed each other in the size of

their casks for keeping beer to a certain age,—probably, says Sir John

Hawkins, taking the hint from the tun at Heidelberg, of which the

following is a description:

At Heidelberg, on the river Neckar, near its junction with the Rhine, in

Germany, there was a tun or wine-vessel constructed in 1343, which

contained twenty-one pipes. Another was made, or the one now mentioned

rebuilt, in 1664, which held six hundred hogsheads, English measure.

This was emptied, and knocked to pieces by the French, in 1688. But a

new and larger one was afterwards fabricated, which held eight hundred

hogsheads. It was formerly kept full of the best Rhenish wine, and the

Electors have given many entertainments on its platform; but this

convivial monument of ancient hospitality is now, says Mr. Walker, but a

melancholy, unsocial, solitary instance of the extinction of

hospitality: it moulders in a damp vault, quite empty.

The celebrated tun at Königstein is said to be the most capacious cask

in the world,—holding 1,869,236 pints. The top is railed in, and it

affords room for twenty people to regale themselves. There are also

several kinds of welcome-cups, which are offered to strangers, who are

invited by a Latin inscription to drink to the prosperity of the whole

universe. This enormous tun was built in 1725, by Frederick Augustus,

King of Poland and Elector of Saxony, who, in the inscription just

mentioned, is styled “the father of his country, the Titus of his age,

and the delight of mankind.”

Dr. Johnson once mentioned that his friend Thrale had four casks so

large that each of them held one thousand hogsheads. But Mr. Meux, of

Liquorpond Street, Gray’s Inn Lane, could, according to Mr. Pennant,

show twenty-four vessels containing in all thirty-five thousand barrels:

one alone held four thousand five hundred barrels; and in the year 1790

this enterprising brewer built another, containing nearly twelve

thousand barrels, valued at about £20,000. A dinner was given to two

hundred people at the bottom of it, and two hundred more joined the

company to drink success to this unrivalled vat.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE ENGLISH POETS.

Chaucer describes men and things as they _are_; Shakspeare, as they

_would be_ under the circumstances supposed; Spenser, as we would _wish_

them to be; Milton, as they _ought_ to be; Byron, as they ought _not_ to

be; and Shelley, as they never _can_ be.

PERILS OF PRECOCITY.

Baillet mentions one hundred and sixty-three children endowed with

extraordinary talents, among whom few arrived at an advanced age. The

two sons of Quintilian so vaunted by their father did not reach their

tenth year. Hermogenes, who at the age of fifteen taught rhetoric to

Marcus Aurelius, who triumphed over the most celebrated rhetoricians of

Greece, did not die at an early age, but at twenty-four lost his

faculties and forgot all he had previously acquired. Pico di Mirandola

died at thirty-two; Johannus Secundus at twenty-five, having at the age

of fifteen composed admirable Greek and Latin verses and become

profoundly versed in jurisprudence and letters. Pascal, whose genius

developed itself when ten years old, did not attain the third of a

century. In 1791, a child was born at Lubeck, named Henri Heinneken,

whose precocity was miraculous. At ten months of age he spoke

distinctly, at twelve learned the Pentateuch by rote, and at fourteen

months was perfectly acquainted with the Old and New Testament. At two

years he was as familiar with geography and ancient history as the most

erudite authors of antiquity. In the ancient and modern languages he was

a proficient. This wonderful child was unfortunately carried off in his

fourth year.

THE BLACK HOLE AT CALCUTTA.

This celebrated place of confinement was only eighteen feet by eighteen,

containing, therefore, three hundred and twenty-four square feet. When

Fort William was taken, in 1756, by Surajah Dowla, Nabob of Bengal, one

hundred and forty-six persons were shut up in the Black Hole. The room

allowed to each person a space of twenty-six and a half inches by twelve

inches, which was just sufficient to hold them without their pressing

violently on each other. To this dungeon there was but one small grated

window, and, the weather being very sultry, the air within could neither

circulate nor be changed. In less than an hour, many of the prisoners

were attacked with extreme difficulty of breathing; several were

delirious; and the place was filled with incoherent ravings, in which

the cry for water was predominant. This was handed them by the

sentinels, but without the effect of allaying their thirst. In less than

four hours, many were suffocated, or died in violent delirium. In five

hours, the survivors, except those at the grate, were frantic and

outrageous. At length most of them became insensible. Eleven hours after

they were imprisoned, twenty-three only, of the one hundred and

forty-six, came out alive, and those were in a highly-putrid fever, from

which, however, by fresh air and proper attention, they gradually

recovered.

STONE BAROMETER.

A Finland newspaper mentions a stone in the northern part of Finland,

which serves the inhabitants instead of a barometer. This stone, which

they call Ilmakiur, turns black, or blackish gray, when it is going to

rain, but on the approach of fine weather it is covered with white

spots. Probably it is a fossil mixed with clay, and containing

rock-salt, nitre, or ammonia, which, according to the greater or less

degree of dampness of the atmosphere, attracts it, or otherwise. In the

latter case the salt appears, forming the white spots.

BITTERNESS OF STRYCHNIA.

Strychnia, the active principle of the Nux Vomica bean, which has become

so famous in the annals of criminal poisoning, is so intensely bitter

that it will impart a sensibly bitter taste to six hundred thousand

times its weight of water.

SALT, AS A LUXURY.

Mungo Park describes salt as “the greatest of all luxuries in Central

Africa.” Says he, “It would appear strange to a European to see a child

suck a piece of rock-salt, as if it were sugar. This, however, I have

frequently seen; although in the inland parts the poorer class of

inhabitants are so very rarely indulged with this precious article, that

to say a man eats salt with his victuals is the same as saying that he

is a rich man. I have myself suffered great inconvenience from the

scarcity of this article. The long-continued use of vegetable food

creates so painful a longing for salt, that no words can sufficiently

describe it.”

SINGULAR CHANGE OF TASTE.

The sense by which we appreciate the sweetness of bodies is liable to

singular modifications. Thus, the leaves of the _Gymnema sylvestre_,—a

plant of Northern India,—when chewed, take away the power of tasting

sugar for twenty-four hours, without otherwise injuring the general

sense of taste.

BLUNDERS OF PAINTERS.

Tintoret, an Italian painter, in a picture of the Children of Israel

gathering manna, has taken the precaution to arm them with the modern

invention of guns. Cigoli painted the aged Simeon at the circumcision of

the infant Saviour; and as aged men in these days wear spectacles, the

artist has shown his sagacity by placing them on Simeon’s nose. In a

picture by Verrio of Christ healing the sick, the lookers-on are

represented as standing with periwigs on their heads. To match, or

rather to exceed, this ludicrous representation, Durer has painted the

expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden by an angel in a dress

fashionably trimmed with flounces. The same painter, in his scene of

Peter denying Christ, represents a Roman soldier very comfortably

smoking a pipe of tobacco. A Dutch painter, in a picture of the Wise Men

worshipping the Holy Child, has drawn one of them in a large white

surplice, and in boots and spurs, and he is in the act of presenting to

the child a model of a Dutch man-of-war. In a Dutch picture of Abraham

offering up his son, instead of the patriarch’s “stretching forth his

hand and taking the knife,” as the Scriptures inform us, he is

represented as using a more effectual and modern instrument: he is

holding to Isaac’s head a _blunderbuss_. Berlin represents in a picture

the Virgin and Child listening to a violin; and in another picture he

has drawn King David playing the harp at the marriage of Christ with St.

Catherine. A French artist has drawn, with true French taste, the Lord’s

Supper, with the table ornamented with tumblers filled with

cigar-lighters; and, as if to crown the list of these absurd and

ludicrous anachronisms, the garden of Eden has been drawn with Adam and

Eve in all their primeval simplicity and virtue, while near them, in

full costume, is seen a hunter with a gun, shooting ducks.

MINUTE MECHANISM.

There is a cherry-stone at the Salem (Mass.) Museum, which contains one

dozen silver spoons. The stone itself is of the ordinary size; but the

spoons are so small that their shape and finish can only be well

distinguished by the microscope. Here is the result of immense labor for

no decidedly useful purpose; and there are thousands of other objects in

the world fashioned by ingenuity, the value of which, in a utilitarian

sense, may be said to be quite as indifferent. Dr. Oliver gives an

account of a cherry-stone on which were carved one hundred and

twenty-four heads, so distinctly that the naked eye could distinguish

those belonging to popes and kings by their mitres and crowns. It was

bought in Prussia for fifteen thousand dollars, and thence conveyed to

England, where it was considered an object of so much value that its

possession was disputed, and it became the object of a suit in chancery.

One of the Nuremberg toy-makers enclosed in a cherry-stone, which was

exhibited at the French Crystal Palace, a plan of Sevastopol, a

railway-station, and the “Messiah” of Klopstock. In more remote times,

an account is given of an ivory chariot, constructed by Mermecides,

which was so small that a fly could cover it with his wing; also a ship

of the same material, which could be hidden under the wing of a bee!

Pliny, too, tells us that Homer’s Iliad, with its fifteen thousand

verses, was written in so small a space as to be contained in a

nutshell; while Elian mentions an artist who wrote a distich in letters

of gold, which he enclosed in the rind of a kernel of corn. But the

Harleian MS. mentions a greater curiosity than any of the above, it

being nothing more nor less than the Bible, written by one Peter Bales,

a chancery clerk, in so small a book that it could be enclosed within

the shell of an English walnut. Disraeli gives an account of many other

exploits similar to the one of Bales. There is a drawing of the head of

Charles II. in the library of St. John’s College, Oxford, wholly

composed of minute written characters, which at a small distance

resemble the lines of an engraving. The head and the ruff are said to

contain the book of Psalms, in Greek, and the Lord’s Prayer. In the

British Museum is a portrait of Queen Anne, not much larger than the

hand. On this drawing are a number of lines and scratches, which, it is

asserted, comprise the entire contents of a thin folio. The modern art

of Photography is capable of effecting wonders in this way. We have

before us the Declaration of Independence, containing seven thousand

eight hundred letters, on a space not larger than the head of a pin,

which, when viewed through a microscope, may be read distinctly.

THE RATIO OF THE DIAMETER TO THE CIRCUMFERENCE.

The proportion of the diameter of a circle to its circumference has

never yet been exactly ascertained. Nor can a square or any other

right-lined figure be found that shall be equal to a given circle. This

is the celebrated problem called the squaring of the circle, which has

exercised the abilities of the greatest mathematicians for ages and been

the occasion of so many disputes. Several persons of considerable

eminence have, at different times, pretended that they had discovered

the exact quadrature; but their errors have readily been detected; and

it is now generally looked upon as a thing impossible to be done.

But though the relation between the diameter and circumference cannot be

accurately expressed in known numbers, it may yet be approximated to any

assigned degree of exactness. And in this manner was the problem solved,

about two thousand years ago, by the great Archimedes, who discovered

the proportion to be nearly as seven to twenty-two. The process by which

he effected this may be seen in his book _De Dimensione Circuli_. The

same proportion was also discovered by Philo Gadarensis and Apollonius

Pergeus at a still earlier period, as we are informed by Eutocius.

The proportion of Vieta and Metius is that of one hundred and thirteen

to three hundred and fifty-five, which is a little more exact than the

former. It was derived from the pretended quadrature of a M. Van Eick,

which first gave rise to the discovery.

But the first who ascertained this ratio to any great degree of

exactness was Van Ceulen, a Dutchman, in his book _De Circulo et

Adscriptis_. He found that if the diameter of a circle was 1, the

circumference would be 3·141592653589793238462643383279502884 nearly;

which is exactly true to thirty-six places of decimals, and was effected

by the continual bisection of an arc of a circle, a method so extremely

troublesome and laborious that it must have cost him incredible pains.

It is said to have been thought so curious a performance that the

numbers were cut on his tombstone in St. Peter’s churchyard, at Leyden.

But since the invention of fluxions, and the summation of infinite

series, several methods have been discovered for doing the same thing

with much more ease and expedition. Euler and other eminent

mathematicians have by these means given a quadrature of the circle

which is true to more than one hundred places of decimals,—a proportion

so extremely near the truth that, unless the ratio could be completely

obtained, we need not wish for a greater degree of accuracy.

MATHEMATICAL PRODIGIES.

They with the pen or pencil problems solved;

He, with no aid but wondrous memory.

Prominent among the precocious mathematicians of the present day is a

colored boy in Kentucky, named William Marcy, whose feats in mental

arithmetic are truly wonderful. His powers of computation appear to be

fully equal to those of Bidder, Buxton, Grandimange, Colburn, or

Safford. He can multiply or divide millions by thousands in a few

minutes from the time the figures are given to him, and always with the

utmost exactness. Recently, in the presence of a party of gentlemen, he

added a column of figures, _eight_ in a line, and _one hundred and

eighty_ lines, making the sum total of several millions, within _six

minutes_. The feat was so astounding, and apparently incredible, that

several of the party took off their coats, and, dividing the sum, went

to work, and in two hours after they commenced produced identically the

same answers. The boy is not quite seventeen years of age; he cannot

read nor write, and in every other branch of an English education is

entirely deficient. It is worthy of remark that mathematics is the only

department of science in which such feats of imbecile minds can be

achieved. The supposition would not, _a priori_, be admissible; but

frequent facts prove it. A negro, a real idiot, was not long since

reported in Alabama, who could beat this Kentuckian in figures, but

could scarcely do any thing else worthy of a human intellect. Precocious

mathematicians, not imbecile, have usually turned out poorly; few of

them, like Pascal, have shown any general capacity. These facts suggest

inferences unfortunate for mathematical genius, if not for mathematical

studies. They have sublime relations, in their “mixed” form, with our

knowledge of the universe; but their relations to genius—to human

sentiments and sensibilities—to the moral and ideal in humanity,—are, to

say the least, quite equivocal. The calculating power alone would seem

to be the least of human qualities, and to have the smallest amount of

reason in it; since a machine like Babbage’s can be made to do the work

of three or four calculators, and better than any of them.

EXTRAORDINARY MEMORY.

Lipsius made this offer to a German prince:—Sit here with a poniard, and

if in repeating _Tacitus_ from beginning to end I miss a single word,

stab me. I will freely bare my breast for you to strike.

Muretus tells us of a young Corsican, a law-student at Padua, who could,

without hesitation, repeat thirty-six thousand Latin, Greek, or

barbarous words, significant or insignificant, upon once hearing them.

Muretus himself tested his wonderful memory, and avers all alleged

respecting it to be strictly true.

Mr. Carruthers, in the course of a lecture on Scottish history mentioned

an instance of Sir Walter Scott’s wonderful memory: “I have heard

Campbell relate how strongly Scott was impressed with his (Campbell’s)

poem of _Lochiel’s Warning_. ‘I read it to him in manuscript,’ he said;

‘he then asked to read it over himself, which he did slowly and

distinctly, after which he handed to me the manuscript, saying, ‘Take

care of your copyright, for I have got your poem by heart,’ and with

only these two readings he repeated the poem with scarcely a mistake.’

Certainly an extraordinary instance of memory, for the piece contains

eighty-eight lines. The subject, however, was one which could not fail

powerfully to arrest Scott’s attention, and versification and diction

are such as are easily caught up and remembered.”

SILENT COMPLIMENT.

While an eloquent clergyman was addressing a religious society, he

intimated, more than once, that he was admonished to conclude by the

lateness of the hour. His discourse, however, was so attractive that

some ladies in the gallery covered the clock with their shawls.

SELF-IMMOLATION.

Comyn, Bishop of Durham, having quarrelled with his clergy, they mixed

poison with the wine of the Eucharist, and gave it to him. He perceived

the poison, but yet, with misguided devotion, he drank it and died.

THE NEED OF PROVIDENCE.

Cecil says in his _Remains_:—We require the same hand to protect us in

apparent safety as in the most imminent and palpable danger. One of the

most wicked men in my neighborhood was riding near a precipice and fell

over: his horse was killed, but he escaped without injury. Instead of

thanking God for his deliverance, he refused to acknowledge the hand of

God in it, but attributed his escape to chance. The same man was

afterwards riding on a very smooth road: his horse suddenly fell and

threw his rider over his head, and killed him on the spot, while the

horse escaped unhurt.

The Fancies of Fact.-§Continued§

DIMENSIONS OF HEAVEN.

And he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The

length, and the breadth, and the height of it are equal.—Rev. xxi. 16.

Twelve thousand furlongs, 7,920,000 feet, which being cubed,

496,793,088,000,000,000,000 cubic feet. Half of this we will reserve for

the Throne of God and the Court of Heaven, and half the balance for

streets, leaving a remainder of 124,198,272,000,000,000,000 cubic feet.

Divide this by 4,096, the cubical feet in a room sixteen feet square,

and there will be 30,321,843,750,000,000 rooms.

We will now suppose the world always did and always will contain

990,000,000 inhabitants, and that a generation lasts for 33⅓ years,

making in all 2,970,000,000 every century, and that the world will stand

100,000 years, or 1,000 centuries, making in all 2,970,000,000,000

inhabitants. Then suppose there were one hundred worlds equal to this in

number of inhabitants and duration of years, making a total of

297,000,000,000,000 persons, and there would be more than a hundred

rooms sixteen feet square for each person.

THE COST OF SOLOMON’S TEMPLE.

According to the computation of Villalpandus, the talents of gold,

silver, and brass, used in the construction of the Temple, amounted to

£6,879,822,500. The jewels are reckoned to have exceeded this sum; but,

for the sake of an estimate, let their value be set down at the same

amount. The vessels of gold (_vasa aurea_) consecrated to the use of the

Temple are reckoned by Josephus at 140,000 talents, which, according to

Capel’s reduction, are equal to £545,296,203. The vessels of silver

(_vasa argentea_) are computed at 1,340,000 talents, or £489,344,000.

The silk vestments of the priests cost £10,000; the purple vestments of

the singers, £2,000,000. The trumpets amounted to £200,000; other

musical instruments to £40,000. To these expenses must be added those of

the other materials, the timber and stone, and of the labor employed

upon them, the labor being divided thus: there were 10,000 men engaged

at Lebanon in hewing timber (_silvicidæ_); there were 70,000 bearers of

burdens (_vectores_); 20,000 hewers of stone (_lapicidinæ_); and 3,300

overseers (_episcopi_); all of whom were employed for seven years, and

upon whom, besides their wages and diet, Solomon bestowed £6,733,977

(_donum Solomonis_). If the daily food and wages of each man be

estimated at 4_s._ 6_d._, the sum total will be £93,877,088. The costly

stone and the timber in the rough may be set down as at least equal to

one-third of the gold, or about £2,545,296,000. The several estimates

will then amount to £17,442,442,268, or $77,521,965,636.

THE NUMBER SEVEN.

In the year 1502 there was printed at Leipsic a work entitled

_Heptalogium Virgilii Salsburgensis_, in honor of the number seven. It

consists of seven parts, each consisting of seven divisions. In 1624

appeared in London a curious work on the subject of numbers, bearing the

following title: _The Secrets of Numbers, according to Theological,

Arithmetical, Geometrical, and Harmonical Computation; drawn, for the

better part, out of those Ancients, as well as Neoteriques. Pleasing to

read, profitable to understand, opening themselves to the capacities of

both learned and unlearned; being no other than a key to lead men to any

doctrinal knowledge whatsoever_. In the ninth chapter the author has

given many notable opinions from learned men, to prove the excellency of

the number _seven_. “First, it neither begets nor is begotten, according

to the saying of Philo. Some numbers, indeed, within the compass of ten,

beget, but are not begotten; and that is the unarie. Others are

begotten, but beget not; as the octonarie. Only the septenarie, having a

prerogative above them all, neither begetteth nor is begotten. This is

its first divinity or perfection. Secondly, this is a harmonical number,

and the well and fountain of that fair and lovely _Digamma_, because it

includeth within itself all manner of harmony. Thirdly, it is a

theological number, consisting of perfection. Fourthly, because of its

compositure; for it is compounded of the first two perfect numbers equal

and unequal,—three and four; for the number two, consisting of repeated

unity, which is no number, is not perfect. Now, every one of these being

excellent of themselves, (as hath been demonstrated,) how can this

number be but far more excellent, consisting of them all, and

participating, as it were, of all their excellent virtues?”

Hippocrates says that the septenary number by its occult virtue tends to

the accomplishment of all things, is the dispenser of life and fountain

of all its changes; and, like Shakspeare, he divides the life of man

into seven ages. In seven months a child may be born and live, and not

before. Anciently a child was not named before seven days, not being

accounted fully to have life before that periodical day. The teeth

spring out in the seventh month, and are renewed in the seventh year,

when infancy is changed into childhood. At thrice seven years the

faculties are developed, manhood commences, and we become legally

competent to all civil acts; at four times seven man is in the full

possession of his strength; at five times seven he is fit for the

business of the world; at six times seven he becomes grave and wise, or

never; at seven times seven he is in his apogee, and from that time he

decays. At eight times seven he is in his first climacteric; at nine

times seven, or sixty-three, he is in his grand climacteric, or year of

danger; and ten times seven, or threescore years and ten, has, by the

Royal Prophet, been pronounced the natural period of human life.

In six days creation was perfected, and the seventh was consecrated to

rest. On the seventh of the seventh month a holy observance was ordained

to the children of Israel, who feasted seven days and remained seven

days in rest; the seventh year was directed to be a sabbath of rest for

all things; and at the end of seven times seven years commenced the

grand Jubilee; every seventh year the land lay fallow; every seventh

year there was a general release from all debts, and all bondsmen were

set free. From this law may have originated the custom of binding young

men to seven years’ apprenticeship, and of punishing incorrigible

offenders by transportation for seven, twice seven, or three times seven

years. Every seventh year the law was directed to be read to the people;

Jacob served seven years for the possession of Rachel, and also another

seven years. Noah had seven days’ warning of the flood, and was

commanded to take the fowls of the air into the ark by sevens, and the

clean beasts by sevens. The ark touched the ground on the seventh month;

and in seven days a dove was sent, and again in seven days after. The

seven years of plenty and seven years of famine were foretold in

Pharaoh’s dreams by the seven fat and the seven lean beasts, and the

seven ears of full corn and the seven ears of blasted corn. The young

animals were to remain with the dam seven days, and at the close of the

seventh taken away. By the old law, man was commanded to forgive his

offending brother seven times; but the meekness of the last revealed

religion extended his humility and forbearance to seventy times seven

times. “If Cain shall be revenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy times

seven.” In the destruction of Jericho, seven priests bore seven trumpets

seven days, and on the seventh day surrounded the walls seven times, and

after the seventh time the walls fell. Balaam prepared seven bullocks

and seven rams for a sacrifice; Laban pursued Jacob seven days’ journey;

Job’s friends sat with him seven days and seven nights, and offered

seven bullocks and seven rams as an atonement for their wickedness;

David, in bringing up the ark, offered seven bullocks and seven rams;

Elijah sent his servant seven times to look for the cloud; Hezekiah, in

cleansing the temple, offered seven bullocks and seven rams and seven

he-goats for a sin-offering. The children of Israel, when Hezekiah took

away the strange altars, kept the feast of unleavened bread seven days,

and then again another seven days. King Ahasuerus had seven

chamberlains, a seven days’ feast, and sent for the queen on the seventh

day; and in the seventh year of his reign she was taken to him. Queen

Esther had seven maids to attend her. Solomon was seven years building

the temple, at the dedication of which he feasted seven days; in the

tabernacle were seven lamps; seven days were appointed for an atonement

upon the altar, and the priest’s son was ordained to wear his father’s

garment seven days; the children of Israel ate unleavened bread seven

days; Abraham gave seven ewe-lambs to Abimelech as a memorial for a

well; Joseph mourned seven days for Jacob. The rabbins say God employed

the power of answering this number to perfect the greatness of Samuel,

his name answering the value of the letters in the Hebrew word, which

signifies seven,—whence Hannah, his mother, in her thanks, says “that

the barren had brought forth the seventh.” In Scripture are enumerated

seven resurrections,—the widow’s son, by Elias; the Shunamite’s son, by

Elisha; the soldier who touched the bone of the prophet; the daughter of

the ruler of the synagogue; the widow’s son of Nain; Lazarus, and our

blessed Lord. Out of Mary Magdalene were cast seven devils. The apostles

chose seven deacons. Enoch, who was translated, was the seventh after

Adam, and Jesus Christ the seventy-seventh in a direct line. Our Saviour

spoke seven times from the cross, on which he remained seven hours; he

appeared seven times; after seven times seven days he sent the Holy

Ghost. In the Lord’s Prayer are seven petitions, expressed in seven

times seven words, omitting those of mere grammatical connection. Within

this number are contained all the mysteries of the Apocalypse revealed

to the seven churches of Asia; there appeared seven golden candlesticks

and seven stars that were in the hand of Him that was in the midst;

seven lamps, being the seven spirits of God; the book with seven seals;

seven kings; seven thunders; seven thousand men slain; the dragon with

seven heads, and the seven angels bearing seven vials of wrath; the

vision of Daniel seventy weeks. The fiery furnace was made seven times

hotter for Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; Nebuchadnezzar ate the grass

of the field seven years. The elders of Israel were seventy. There are

also numbered seven heavens, seven planets, seven stars, seven wise men,

seven champions of Christendom, seven notes in music, seven primary

colors, seven deadly sins, seven sacraments in the Roman Catholic

Church, and seven wonders of the world. The seventh son was considered

as endowed with pre-eminent wisdom; the seventh son of a seventh son is

still thought by some to possess the power of healing diseases

spontaneously. Perfection is likened to gold seven times purified in the

fire; and we yet say, “you frighten me out of my seven senses.” There

were seven chiefs before Thebes. The blood was to be sprinkled seven

times before the altar; Naaman was to be dipped seven times in Jordan;

Apuleius speaks of the dipping of the head seven times in the sea for

purification. In all solemn rites of purgation, dedication, and

consecration, the oil or water was seven times sprinkled. The house of

wisdom, in Proverbs, had seven pillars.

THE NUMBER THREE.

When the world was created, we find land, water, and sky; sun, moon, and

stars. Noah had but three sons; Jonah was three days in the whale’s

belly; our Saviour passed three days in the tomb. Peter denied his

Saviour thrice. There were three patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Abraham entertained three angels. Samuel was called three times. “Simon,

lovest thou me?” was repeated three times. Daniel was thrown into a den

with three lions, for praying three times a day. Shadrach, Meshach, and

Abednego were rescued from the flames of the oven. The Commandments were

delivered on the third day. Job had three friends. St. Paul speaks of

faith, hope, and charity, these three. Those famous dreams of the baker

and butler were to come to pass in three days; and Elijah prostrated

himself three times on the body of the dead child. Samson deceived

Delilah three times before she discovered the source of his strength. In

mythology there were three graces; Cerberus with his three heads;

Neptune holding his three-toothed staff; the Oracle of Delphi cherished

with veneration the tripod; and the nine Muses sprang from three. The

witches in Macbeth ask, “When shall we three meet again?” The Pope’s

tiara is triple. We have morning, noon, and night; fish, flesh, and

fowl; water, ice, and snow. Trees group their leaves in threes; there is

three-leaved clover. What could be done in mathematics without the aid

of the triangle? witness the power of the wedge; and in logic three

propositions are indispensable. It is a common phrase that “three is a

lucky number.” Life stands on a tripod, the feet of which are the

circulation, respiration, and innervation; death is therefore the result

of a failure in the heart, the lungs, or the brain. Finally, there is

earth, heaven, and hell; and above all, the Holy Trinity.

THE NUMBER NINE.

The singular properties of the number nine are well known to

arithmeticians. The following is one of the most interesting. If the

cardinal numbers from 1 to 9 inclusive, omitting 8, be used as a

multiplicand, and any one of them multiplied by 9 be used as a

multiplier, the result will present a succession of figures the same as

that multiplied by the 9. For example, if we wish a series of fives, we

take 5 times 9, equal to 45, for a multiplier:—

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 9

4 5

—————————————————

6 1 7 2 8 3 9 5

4 9 3 8 2 7 1 6

—————————————————

5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5

A similar result will be obtained by using all the other numbers,

including 8 (72); but the 8 must in all cases be omitted in the

multiplicand.

CHANGES OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE.

The following curious calculation has been made of the number of changes

which this wonderful instrument will admit:—

Supposing the instrument to contain twenty small pieces of glass, &c.,

and that you make ten changes in each minute, it will take the

inconceivable space of 462,880,899,576 years and 360 days to go through

the immense variety of changes it is capable of producing,—amounting

(according to our frail idea of the nature of things) to an eternity,

Or, if you take only twelve small pieces, and make ten changes in each

minute, it will then take 33,264 days, or 91 years and 49 days, to

exhaust its variations. However exaggerated this statement may appear to

some, it is actually the case.

NOAH’S ARK AND THE GREAT EASTERN STEAMSHIP.

The following comparison between the size of Noah’s Ark and the

Leviathan (Great Eastern), both being considered in point of tonnage,

after the old law for calculating the tonnage, exhibits a remarkable

similarity. The sacred cubit, as stated by Sir Isaac Newton, is 20·625

English inches; by Bishop Wilkins at 21·88 inches. According to these

authorities, the dimensions will be as follows:—

SIR I. NEWTON. BP. WILKINS. GR. EASTERN.

_Feet._ _Feet._ _Feet._

Length between perpendiculars 515·62 547·00 680

Breadth 84·94 91·16 83

Depth 51·56 54·70 60

Keel, or length for tonnage 464·08 492·31 630

Tonnage according to old law 18,231 58–94 21,761 50–94 23,092 25–94.

DIVERSITY OF COLORS.

In a very amusing work of the celebrated Goethe, entitled _Winkelmann

und sein Jahrhundert_, it is stated that about fifteen thousand

varieties of color are employed by the workers of mosaic in Rome, and

that there are fifty shades of each of these varieties, from the deepest

to the palest, thus affording seven hundred and fifty thousand tints,

which the artist can distinguish with the greatest facility. It might be

imagined that with the command of seven hundred and fifty thousand tints

of colors, the most varied and beautiful painting could be perfectly

imitated; yet this is not the case, for the mosaic-workers find a lack

of tints, even amid this astonishing variety.

AEROLITES.

Meteoric stones, in single masses and in showers, have fallen from the

atmosphere at various, and in many cases uncertain, periods, throughout

the world. The largest of these at present known is in the province of

Tucuman, in South America, in the midst of an extensive plain. It weighs

thirty thousand pounds. A mass in the Imperial Cabinet in Vienna was

brought from Agram, in Croatia, where it fell in 1751. It was seen by

the inhabitants while falling from the air, and is said to have appeared

like a globe of fire. Professor Pallas, in his travels in Siberia, found

a mass on the mountains of Kemir, weighing sixteen hundred and eighty

pounds, which the inhabitants told him fell from the sky. About one

hundred and fifty miles from Bahia, in Brazil, is a mass of a

crystalline texture weighing fourteen thousand pounds. There are also

large masses in West Greenland, Mexico, Peru, and South Africa. The

specimen in the cabinet at New Haven, weighing three thousand pounds,

was brought from Red River in Louisiana. Showers of meteorolites,

weighing from a few ounces to twenty pounds, are recorded by observers

as having fallen at Ensisheim, in 1492; at Mort, in 1750; at Aire, in

1769; at Juliac, in 1790; at Sienna, in 1794; at Benares, in 1798; at

L’Aigle, in 1803; and at St. Germaine, in 1808. One of the most

remarkable instances that has occurred in this country under the direct

observation of eye-witnesses took place in Fairfield county,

Connecticut, in December, 1807, an interesting account of which may be

found in vol. vi. American Philosophical Transactions (1809). A similar

occurrence happened at Norwich, in the same State, in 1836.

With regard to the extraordinary origin of these aerolites, or

meteorolites, it has been incontestably proved to be atmospheric, by

eye-witnesses, by the similarity of their composition in all cases, by

the fact that though the materials thus mingled—being chiefly native

iron, with small proportions of nickel, silex, aluminium, magnesium, and

sulphur—are well known, they are never united in the same manner among

the productions of the globe; and further, by the fact that they are

never projected from terrestrial volcanoes, and that the situations in

which they are found are generally isolated and always on the surface of

the earth.

It remains, then, for the philosopher to ascertain the source of this

interesting portion of nature. The great difficulty of this task is

evident from the number and variety of the theories which have been

formed respecting it, and their liability to serious objections. Those

who hold the opinion that aerolites are formed from substances floating

in the atmosphere must resort to the hypothesis that iron, nickel,

silex, sulphur, &c. are first rendered volatile, and then synthetically

formed into the ponderous stones which fall from above. Professor

Silliman remarks of this recourse to atmospheric formation from gaseous

ingredients, that it is a crude, unphilosophical conception,

inconsistent with known chemical facts, and physically impossible. The

theory which refers these aerolites to _lunar_ volcanic origin seems to

have more to recommend it. La Place, the illustrious author of the

_Mécanique Céleste_,—the respect due to whose opinion no one will

dispute,—maintained that these meteoric stones are expelled violently

from the active volcanoes which telescopic research has proved to exist

in great numbers on the surface of the moon, and that, passing beyond

the limits of the attraction of our satellite, they come within the

influence of the earth and are drawn towards its surface. It has been

calculated that the power required to drive a body beyond the moon’s

attraction would be only about four times that with which a ball is

expelled from a cannon with the ordinary charge of gunpowder. However

rapid a velocity of seven thousand seven hundred and seventy feet per

second may seem, it would not require an improbable amount of mechanical

force.

Professor Olmsted, the American astronomer, has offered the most

satisfactory explanation. He has shown that countless bodies, of

comparatively small dimensions, cluster together in vast rings, and

revolve, as do the planets, around the sun; that these bodies become

visible when the orbit of the earth approaches their orbit; that

sometimes they are entangled in our atmosphere, catch fire from their

enormous velocity, and fall to the earth as meteoric stones. In this way

the shooting stars and meteors are shown to be diminutive planets, which

in composition and orbital motion resemble our own earth, and almost

fill the planetary space with their countless squadrons.

FATE OF AMERICA’S DISCOVERERS.

It is remarkable how few of the eminent men of the discoverers and

conquerors of the New World died in peace. Columbus died broken-hearted;

Roldin and Bobadilla were drowned; Ovando was harshly superseded; Las

Casas sought refuge in a cowl; Ojeda died in extreme poverty; Enciso was

deposed by his own men; Nicuessa perished miserably by the cruelty of

his party; Vasco Nunez de Balboa was disgracefully beheaded; Narvaez was

imprisoned in a tropical dungeon, and afterwards died of hardship;

Cortez was dishonored; Alvarado was destroyed in ambush; Almagro was

garroted; Pizarro was murdered, and his four brothers cut off; and there

was no end to the assassinations and executions of the secondary chiefs

among the energetic and daring adventurers.

FACTS ABOUT THE PRESIDENTS.

Of the first seven Presidents of the United States, four were from

Virginia, two of the same name from Massachusetts, and one from

Tennessee. All but one were sixty-six years old on leaving office,

having served two terms, and one of those who served but one term would

have been sixty-six years of age at the end of another. Three of the

seven died on the 4th of July, and two of them on the same day and year.

Two of them were on the sub-committee of three that drafted the

Declaration of Independence; and these two died on the same day and

year, on the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, and just

half a century from the day of the Declaration. The names of three of

the seven end in son, yet none of them transmitted his name to a _son_.

The initials of the names of two of the seven are the same; the initials

of two others are the same; and those of still two others, the same. The

remaining one, who stands alone in this particular, stands also alone in

the love and admiration of his countrymen and of the civilized

world,—Washington. Of the first five, only one had a son, and that son

was also President. Neither of the Presidents who had sons were elected

for a second term.

THE CROWN OF ENGLAND.

The crown of England is a costly “bauble,” bedazzled with jewels enough

to found three or four public charities, or a half-dozen ordinary

colleges. There are twenty diamonds round the circle, worth $7,500 each,

making $150,000; two large centre diamonds, $10,000 each, making

$20,000; fifty-four smaller diamonds, placed at the angle of the former,

each $500; four crosses, each composed of twenty-five diamonds, $60,000;

four large diamonds on the top of the crosses, $20,000; twelve diamonds

contained in the fleur-de-lis, $50,000; eighteen smaller diamonds

contained in the same, $10,000; pearls, diamonds, &c. upon the arches

and crosses, $50,000; also one hundred and forty-one small diamonds,

$25,000; twenty-six diamonds in the upper cross, $15,500; two circles of

pearls about the rim, $15,000. The cost of the stones in the crown,

exclusive of the metal, is, therefore, nearly half a million of dollars.

AN ARMY OF WOMEN.

In the army of the Chinese rebels, there were in 1853, in Nanking alone,

about half a million of women, collected from various parts of the

country and formed into brigades of thirteen thousand, under female

officers. Of these, ten thousand were picked women, drilled and

garrisoned in the city; the rest were compelled to undergo the drudgery

of digging moats, making earth works, erecting batteries, &c.

THE STAR IN THE EAST.

Under the influence of a conjunction of Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars, which

took place in the year 1604, Kepler was led to think that he had

discovered means for determining the true year of our Saviour’s birth.

He made his calculations, and found that Jupiter and Saturn were in

conjunction in the constellation of the Fishes (a fish is the

astrological symbol of Judæa) in the latter half of the year of Rome

747, and were joined by Mars in 748. Here then he fixed the first figure

in the date of our era, and here he found the appearance in the heavens

which induced the magi to undertake their journey, and conducted them

successfully on their way. Others have taken up this view, freed it from

astrological impurities, and shown its trustworthiness and applicability

in the case under consideration. It appears that Jupiter and Saturn came

together for the first time on May 20th in the twentieth degree of the

constellation of the Fishes. They then stood before sunrise in the

eastern part of the heavens, and so were seen by the magi. Jupiter then

passed by Saturn towards the north. About the middle of September they

were near midnight both in opposition to the sun, Saturn in the

thirteenth, Jupiter in the fifteenth degree, being distant from each

other about a degree and a half. They then drew nearer: on October 27th

there was a second conjunction in the sixteenth degree, and on November

12th there took place a third conjunction in the fifteenth degree of the

same constellation. In the last two conjunctions the interval between

the planets amounted to no more than a degree, so that to the unassisted

eye the rays of the one planet were absorbed in those of the other, and

the two bodies would appear as one. The two planets went past each other

three times, came very near together, and showed themselves all night

long for months in conjunction with each other, as if they would never

separate again. Their first union in the east awoke the attention of the

magi, told them the expected time had come, and bade them set off

without delay towards Judæa (the fish land). When they reached Jerusalem

the two planets were once more blended together. Then, in the evening,

they stood in the southern part of the sky, pointing with their united

rays to Bethlehem, where prophecy declared the Messiah was to be born.

The magi followed the finger of heavenly light, and were brought to the

child Jesus. The conclusion in regard to the time of the advent is that

our Lord was born in the latter part of the year of Rome 747, or six

years before the common era.

A recent writer of considerable merit, Wieseler (_Chronolog. Synop. der

4 Evangelien._) has applied this theory of Kepler in conjunction with a

discovery that he has made from some Chinese astronomical tables, which

show that in the year of Rome 750 a comet appeared in the heavens, and

was visible for seventy days. Wieseler’s opinion is that the conjunction

of the planets excited and fixed the attention of the magi, but that

their guiding-star was the aforesaid comet.

DIPLOMATIC COSTUME.

Dr. Franklin, it is well known, gained great praise for wearing an

ordinary plain suit, instead of a gold embroidered Court costume, when

formally presented to King Louis XVI. In reference to this anecdote,

Nathaniel Hawthorne, in his notebook states that he was told by an aged

lady, in England, that the circumstance above mentioned arose from the

fact that Franklin’s tailor disappointed him of his Court suit, and that

he wore his plain one with great reluctance, because he had no other.

Franklin, it is said, having by his mishap made a successful impression,

continued to wear his plain dress through policy. Thus we have another

dissipation of one of those pleasant fictions which have been

transmitted by the historian and the painter. It is like the apocryphal

story of Franklin reading the prayer of Habakkuk to an assembly of

French infidels, who are said to have pronounced it one of the finest

compositions they had ever heard, and to have eagerly inquired where it

might be found.

INSTANCES OF REMARKABLE LONGEVITY.

The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason

of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and

sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.—Psalm xc. 10.

Haller has noted one thousand cases of centenarians: sixty-two of from

110 to 120 years; twenty-nine of from 120 to 130; and fifteen who had

attained from 130 to 140 years. Beyond this advanced age,

well-authenticated examples of longevity are very rare. The case of

Henry Jenkins, the Yorkshire fisherman, who died in December, 1670, at

the age of 169, is one of the most remarkable. He is buried in the

church of Bolton-upon-Swale, where may be found a long inscription,

chiefly referring to his humble position in life and his patriarchal

age. That of Thomas Parr is also well known. He was first married at the

age of 80, and afterwards at 122, and died in 1635, aged 152. He was a

farmer, and up to the age of 130 was able to dig, plough, and thrash.

Had he continued his simple and abstemious habits, his life would

probably have been prolonged a considerable period; but the luxurious

living of the court of Charles I., at which his latter years were spent,

occasioned a plethoric condition which hastened his end. The famous

Harvey dissected him after death, and found no appearance of decay in

any organ.

The following list of instances of very advanced age is given on the

authority of Prichard, Whitehurst, Bailey, and others:—

Died. Age.

Apollonius of Tyana §A.D.§ 99 130

St. Patrick 491 122

Attila 500 124

Llywarch Hên 500 150

St. Coemgene 618 120

St. Mongah, or Kentigern 781 185

Piastus, King of Poland 861 120

Countess of Desmond 1612 145

Thomas Parr 1635 152

Thomas Damme 1648 154

Dr. Mead, Hertfordshire 1652 148

James Bowles, Kenilworth 1656 152

Henry Jenkins 1670 169

William Edwards[16] 1688 168

Petrarch Czartan 1724 185

Margaret Patten 1739 137

John Roven 1741 172

Mrs. John Roven 1741 164

John Effingham, Cornwall ———— 144

Thomas Winslow, a captain of Cromwell 1766 146

Draakenburg, a Dane 1772 146

Jonas Warren, Ballydole 1787 167

Jonas Surington, Bergen, Norway 1797 159

Demetrius Grabowsky, Poland 1830 169

Bridget Devine 1845 147

Footnote 16:

On a long freestone slab, in Caery church, near Cardiff, Glamorgan

co., Wales, is the following inscription:—

Here lyeth the Body of

William Edwds,

of the Cairey who departed this life

February 24, Anno Domini, 1688,

Annoque ætatis suæ 168.

O, happy change!

And ever blest,

When greefe and pain is

Changed to rest.

Czartan’s biographer says of him:—He was born in the year 1539 and died

January 5th, 1724, at Kofrosch, a village four miles from Temeswar. A

few days before his death, being nearly 185 years old, he had walked,

with the help of a stick, to the post-house at Kofrosch, to ask charity

from the travellers. His eyes were much inflamed; but he still enjoyed a

little sight. His hair and beard were of a greenish white color, like

mouldy bread; and he had a few of his teeth remaining. His son, who was

97 years of age, declared that his father had once been a head taller;

that at a great age he married for the third time, and that he was born

in this last marriage. He was accustomed, agreeably to the rules of his

religion, (Greek Church,) to observe fast-days with great strictness,

and never to use any other food than milk, and certain cakes, called by

the Hungarians _collatschen_, together with a good glass of brandy such

as is made in the country.

The Hungarian family of Roven affords an extraordinary example of long

life. The father attained the age of 172, the wife, 164; they had been

married 142 years, and their youngest child was 115; and such was the

influence of habit and filial affection that this _child_ was treated

with all the severity of parental rigidity, and did not dare to act

without his _papa’s_ and _mamma’s_ permission.

Examples of great longevity are frequent in Russia. According to an

official report, there were, in 1828, in the empire, 828 centenarians,

of whom forty had exceeded 120 years; fifteen, 130; nine, 136; and

three, 138 years. In the government of Moscow there died, in 1830, a man

aged 150. In the government of Kieff, an old soldier died in 1844, at

the age of 153. There lately died on an estate in the government of

Viatka, a peasant named Michael Kniawelkis, who had attained the age of

137 years, 10 months, and 11 days. He was born in a village of the same

district, married at the age of 19, and had had, by several wives, 32

children, one of whom, a daughter, is still living, at the age of 100.

He never had any serious illness; some years before his death he

complained that he could not read without glasses, but to the last day

he retained the use of all his faculties, and was very cheerful. He

frequently said that he thought death had forgotten him.

In China, on the contrary, such instances are rare. From a census made a

few years ago, we learn that out of a population of 369,000,000 there

were but four centenarians.

According to the census of the United States, taken in 1830, there were

2,556 persons a hundred years old, or upwards. The census of 1850

exhibits nearly the same number. This gives one centenarian to a

population of 9,000. From this census we also learn that the oldest

person then living in the United States was 140. This was an Indian

woman residing in North Carolina. In the same State was an Indian aged

125, a negro woman 111, two black slaves 110 each, one mulatto male 120,

and several white males and females from 106 to 114. In the parish of

Lafayette, La., was a female, black, aged 120. In several of the States

there were found persons, white and black, aged from 110 to 115.

There is now living in Murray county, Georgia, on the waters of Holy

Creek, a Revolutionary veteran, who has attained the age of 135. His

name is John Hames. He is known throughout the region in which he lives

by the appellative, “Gran’sir Hames.” He was born in Mecklenburg county,

Virginia, and was a lad 10 years old when Washington was in his cradle.

He was 32 when Braddock met his disastrous defeat on the Monongahela.

He, with a number of his neighbors, set forth to join the ill-fated

commander, but after several days’ march were turned back by the news of

his overthrow. He migrated to South Carolina nearly 100 years ago. He

was in thirteen considerable conflicts during the war of Independence,

and in skirmishes and encounters with Indians, with tories, and with

British, times beyond memory. He was with Gates at Camden, with Morgan

at Cowpens, with Green at Hillsboro’ and Eutaw, and with Marion in many

a bold rush into a tory camp or redcoat quarters.

At the time of the Eighth Census there were about 20,000 persons in the

United States who were living when the Declaration of Independence was

signed in 1776. They must necessarily have been more than eighty years

old, in order to have lived at that time. The French Census of 1851

shows only 102 persons over 100 years old,—though the total population

was nearly 36,000,000. Old age is therefore attained among us much more

frequently than in France.

At Cordova, in South America, in the year of 1780, a judicial inquiry

was instituted by the authorities to determine the age of a negress by

the name of Louisa Truxo. She testified that she perfectly remembered

Fernando Truxo, the bishop, who gave her as his contribution toward a

university fund: he died in 1614. Another negress, who was known to be

120, testified that Louisa was an elderly woman when she was a child. On

this evidence the authorities of Cordova concluded that Louisa was, as

she asserted, 175 years old.

Two cases are recorded by Mr. Bailey, in his _Annals of Longevity_,

which throw all these into the shade; but the evidence furnished is

inadequate and unsatisfactory. One is that of an Englishman, Thomas Cam,

whom the parish register of Shoreditch affirms to have died in 1588, at

the age of 207, having paid allegiance to twelve monarchs. The other is

that of a Russian,—name not given,—whom the St. Petersburg Gazette

mentioned as having died in 1812, at an age exceeding 200.

The following in relation to Cam is copied literally from the register

of burials of St. Leonard’s, Shoreditch:—

┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐

│_1588._ BURIALLES. Fol. 35.│

│ │

│ §Thomas Cam§ was buriel * e/y 22 inst. of │

│ Januarye, Aged 207 yeares. │

│ │

│ Holywell Street. │

│ Geo. Garrow, │

│Copy, Aug’st 25, 1832. Parish Clerk.│

└────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘

In connection with the foregoing facts, it will be interesting to revert

to the ages of the antediluvian patriarchs:—

Years.

Adam lived 930

Seth 912

Enos 905

Canaan 910

Mahalaleel 895

Jared 962

Enoch 365

Methuselah 969

Lamech 777

Noah, who lived before and after the Deluge, in all 950

In Willet’s _Hexapla, in Leviticum_, is the following remarkable

passage:—

Ludovicus Vives (_in Aug. de Civit, Dei, lib. XV._) writeth of a town in

Spain, consisting of about an hundred houses, all of them inhabited by

the seed of one old man, then living; so that the youngest of them knew

not what to call him: _Quia lingua Hispana supra abavum non ascendit_,

because the Spanish tongue goeth no higher than the great-grandfather’s

father. And Bas. Johan. Heroldus hath a pretty epigram of an aged matron

that lived to see her children’s children to the sixth degree:—

^1Mater ait ^2natæ die quod ^3sua filia ^4natam

Admoneat ^5natæ plangere ^6filiolam.

The ^1Mother said, Go tell my ^2Child

That ^3her Girl should her ^4Daughter tell

She must now mourn (that lately smiled),

Her ^5Daughter’s little ^6Babe’s not well.

MEANS OF RECOGNITION.

When the English suite of Lord Macartney was invited to a grand

entertainment in China, one of them, understanding that it was not

expedient to venture upon every dish which appeared under the guise of

the native cookery, was desirous of ascertaining how far he might

venture with safety, and as the Chinese waiters could understand a

little English, he pointed to a dish before him, and said to the

attendant in an interrogative tone, “Quack-quack?” meaning to inquire if

it was a duck. The attendant perfectly understood him, and immediately

replied, with great solemnity and sincerity, “Bow-wow!”

* * * * *

Rossini once unexpectedly met his old friend Sir Henry Bishop, but

having at the moment forgotten his name, after puzzling and stammering

for some time, he at length took him by the hand, and sang a few bars to

prove he identified him through Bishop’s beautiful song, “Blow gentle

gales.”

MARRIAGE VOW.

The matrimonial ceremony, like many others, has undergone some variation

in the progress of time. Upwards of three centuries ago, the husband, on

taking his wife by the right hand, thus addressed her; “I, A. B.,

_undersygne_ thee, C. D., for my wedded wyfe, for beter, for worse, for

richer, for porer, yn sekness, and in helthe, tyl dethe us departe, [not

“do part,” as now erroneously rendered, _departe_ formerly meaning to

_separate_,] as holy churche hath ordeyned, and thereto I plyght thee my

trowthe.” The wife replied in the same form, with an additional clause,

“to be buxum to thee, tyl dethe us departe.” So it appears in the first

edition of the _Missals for the use of the famous and celebrated Church

of Hereford_, 1502. In the _Salisbury Missal_, the lady promised “to be

bonere [debonnair] and buxum in bedde and at the borde.”

COMPOSITION IN DREAMS.

Condorcet is said to have attained the conclusion of some of his most

abstruse unfinished calculations in his dreams. Franklin makes a similar

admission concerning some of his political projects, which in his waking

moments sorely puzzled him. Herschel composed the following lines in a

dream:—

“Throw thyself on thy God, nor mock him with feeble denial;

Sure of his love, and, oh! sure of his mercy at last;

Bitter and deep though the draught, yet drain thou the cup of thy trial,

And, in its healing effect, smile at the bitterness past.”

Goethe says in his _Memoirs_, “The objects which had occupied my

attention during the day often reappeared at night in connected dreams.

On awakening, a new composition, or a portion of one I had already

commenced, presented itself to my mind.” Coleridge composed his poem of

the _Abyssinian Maid_ during a dream. Cockburn says of Lord Jeffrey:—“He

had a fancy that though he went to bed with his head stuffed with the

names, dates, and other details of various causes, they were all in

order in the morning; which he accounted for by saying that during sleep

they all crystallized round their proper centres.”

FACTS ABOUT SLEEP.

Come sleep, O sleep! the certain knot of peace,

The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe;

The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release,

The impartial judge between the high and low.

§Sir Philip Sidney.§

While I am asleep I have neither fear nor hope, neither trouble nor

glory, and blessings on him who invented sleep, the mantle that covers

all human thoughts; the food that appeases hunger; the drink that

quenches thirst; the fire that warms cold; the cold that moderates

heat; and lastly, the general coin that purchases all things; the

balance and weight that makes the shepherd equal to the king, and the

simple to the wise.—_Sancho Panza._

Sir Philip Sidney calls sleep “the poor man’s wealth,” and, he might

have added, it is every man’s health. Men have often, according to their

own notions, attempted to limit or extend the hours of sleep. Thus, the

“immortal Alfred” of England divided the day into three portions of

eight hours each, assigning one for refreshment and the health of the

body by sleep, diet, and exercise, another for business, and the third

for study and devotion. Bishop Taylor considered three hours’, and

Richard Baxter four hours’, sleep sufficient for any man.

“Nature requires five,

Custom gives seven,

Laziness takes nine,

And wickedness eleven.”

The error into which these and others have fallen arises not only from

the fact that in this, as well as in other things, every man is a law to

himself, but from the varying amount required in each individual case at

different times, depending upon the amount of renovation required by the

nervous and muscular systems. John Wesley, the distinguished founder of

Methodism, who attained the age of eighty-eight, and who could command

sleep on horseback, says very properly, in some curious remarks which he

has left upon sleep, that no one measure will do for all, nor will the

same amount of sleep suffice even for the same person at all times. A

person debilitated by sickness requires more of “tired nature’s sweet

restorer” than one in vigorous health. More sleep is also necessary when

the strength and spirits are exhausted by hard labor or severe mental

efforts. Whatever may be the case with some few persons, of a peculiar

constitution, it is evident that health and vigor can scarcely be

expected to continue long without six hours’ sleep in the

four-and-twenty. Wesley adds that during his long life he never knew any

individual who retained vigorous health for a whole year, with a less

quantity of sleep than this.

It is said that women, in general, require more sleep than men. This is

doubtful: it is certain, at least, that women endure protracted

wakefulness better than men. The degree of muscular and mental exertion

to which the male is accustomed would seem to indicate that a longer

period of rest ought to be required by him to admit of the necessary

restoration of excitability. In infancy and youth, where the animal

functions are extremely active, the necessity for sleep is greatest; in

mature age, where time is more valued and cares are more numerous, it is

less indulged; whilst the aged may be affected in two opposite ways;

they may be either in a state of almost constant somnolency, or their

sleep may be short and light.

There are some remarkable cases on record of deviations from the

customary amount of sleep, making a “bed shorter than for an ordinary

man to stretch himself upon, and a covering narrower than he can wrap

himself in,” capacious enough for persons of very active habits in their

waking hours. Many persons have reached advanced age without ever having

had more than one or two hours’ sleep out of the twenty-four. There is

one case of a man who, throughout his whole life, never slept more than

fifteen minutes at one time. General Pichegru informed Sir Gilbert Blane

that, in the course of his active campaigns, he had for a whole year not

more than one hour of sleep in the twenty-four hours. Frederick of

Prussia and Napoleon, as a general thing, only devoted three or four

hours to sleep.

One can scarcely conceive a more horrible mode of torture than the

Chinese plan of condemning criminals to death by preventing sleep. The

victim is kept awake by guards alternately stationed for the purpose.

His sufferings last from twelve to twenty days, when death comes to his

relief.

The influence of habit in promoting or preventing sleep is remarkable.

Those accustomed to the tranquillity of rural districts are excessively

annoyed by the din of the carriages on the paved thoroughfares of a

large city. It is said, on the other hand, that those who live near the

cataracts of the Nile cannot sleep at a distance from them, owing to

their having become accustomed to the noise, the stimulus of which upon

the ear they lack. Some persons can only sleep in the dark; we knew a

woman who slept habitually with a candle burning in her bedroom, and who

invariably awoke if the light went out. Some of the soldiers of

Bonaparte’s army would sleep, after extreme fatigue and exhaustion, on

the ground by the side of a twenty-four pounder which was constantly

firing. Some boys slept from fatigue on board of Nelson’s ship, at the

battle of the Nile. We have heard of a boiler-maker who could go to

sleep in a boiler while the workmen were constantly hammering the

rivets.

Sleep can persist with the exercise of certain muscles. Couriers on long

journeys nap on horseback; and coachmen, on their boxes. Among the

impressive incidents of Sir John Moore’s disastrous retreat to Corunna,

in Spain, not the least striking is the recorded fact that many of his

soldiers steadily pursued their march while fast asleep. Burdach,

however, affirms that this is not uncommon among soldiers. Franklin

slept nearly an hour swimming on his back. An acquaintance of Dr. D.,

travelling with a party in North Carolina, being greatly fatigued, was

observed to be sound asleep in his saddle. His horse, being a better

walker, went far in advance of the rest. On crossing a hill, they found

him on the ground, snoring gently. His horse had fallen, as was evident

from his bruised knees, and had thrown his rider on his head on a hard

surface, without waking him.

Animals of the lower orders obey peculiar laws in regard to sleep. Fish

are said to sleep soundly; and we are told by Aristotle that the tench

may be taken in this state, if approached cautiously. Many birds and

beasts of prey take their repose in the daytime. When kept in captivity,

this habit undergoes a change,—which makes us doubt whether it was not

the result of necessity, which demanded that they should take advantage

of the darkness, silence, and the unguarded state of their victims. In

the menagerie at Paris, even the hyena sleeps at night, and is awake by

day. They all, however, seek, as favoring the purpose, a certain degree

of seclusion and shade, with the exception of the lion, who, Burdach

informs us, sleeps at noonday, in the open plain; and the eagle and

condor will poise themselves on the most elevated pinnacle of rock, in

the clear blue atmosphere and dazzling sunlight. Birds, however, are

furnished with a winking membrane, generally, to shelter the eye from

light. Fish prefer to retire to sleep under the shadow of a rock or a

woody bank. Of domestic animals, the horse seems to require least sleep;

and that he usually takes in the erect posture.

Birds that roost in a sitting posture are furnished with a well-adapted

mechanism, which keeps them firmly supported without voluntary or

conscious action. The tendon of the claws is so arranged as to be

tightened by their weight when the thighs are bent, thus contracting

closely and grasping the bough or perch. In certain other animals which

sleep erect, the articulations of the foot and knee are described by

Dumeril as resembling the spring of a pocket-knife, which opens the

instrument and serves to keep the blade in a line with the handle.

The following calculation is interesting. Suppose one boy aged ten years

determines to rise at five o’clock all the year round. Another of the

same age, indolent and fond of ease, rises at eight, or an average of

eight, every morning. If they both live to be seventy years old, the one

will have gained over the other, during the intervening period of sixty

years, sixty-five thousand seven hundred and forty-five hours, which is

equal to two thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine and a third days, or

just seven and a half years. If a similar calculation were applied to

the whole country, how many millions of years of individual usefulness

would it prove to be lost to society!

“God bless the man who first invented sleep!”

So Sancho Panza said, and so say I!

And bless him, also, that he didn’t keep

His great discovery to himself, or try

To make it—as the lucky fellow might—

A close monopoly by “patent right!”

Yes—bless the man who first invented sleep,

(I really can’t avoid the iteration;)

But blast the man, with curses loud and deep,

Whate’er the rascal’s name, or age, or station,

Who first invented, and went round advising,

That artificial cut-off,—early rising!

“Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed,”

Observes some solemn, sentimental owl:

Maxims like these are very cheaply said;

But ere you make yourself a fool or fowl,

Pray just inquire about their rise—and fall,

And whether larks have any beds at all!

The “time for honest folks to be abed”

Is in the morning, if I reason right:

And he who cannot keep his precious head

Upon his pillow till it’s fairly light,

And so enjoy his forty morning winks,

Is up—to knavery; or else—he drinks!

Thomson, who sung about the “Seasons,” said

It was a glorious thing to rise in season;

But then he said it—lying—in his bed

At ten o’clock A. M.,—the very reason

He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is,

His preaching wasn’t sanctioned by his practice.

’Tis, doubtless, well to be sometimes awake,—

Awake to duty and awake to truth;

But when, alas! a nice review we take

Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth,

The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep

Are those we passed in childhood, or—asleep!

’Tis beautiful to leave the world a while

For the soft visions of the gentle night,

And free, at last, from mortal care or guile,

To live, as only in the angels’ sight,

In sleep’s sweet realms so cosily shut in,

Where, at the worst, we only _dream_ of sin!

So let us sleep, and give the Maker praise.

I like the lad who, when his father thought

To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase

Of vagrant worm by early songster caught,

Cried, “Served him right!—it’s not at all surprising:

The worm was punished, sir, for early rising!”

OPIUM AND EAST INDIAN HEMP.

Children of Night! from Lethe’s bourn,

Ye come to weave the oblivious veil,

And on the wretched and forlorn

To bid your sweet illusions steal.—_Fracastoro._

There is nothing in nature more curious and inexplicable than the

influence on the circulating fluids, and through these on the brain and

its functions, of various narcotic drugs. Among these, opium, and

_Cannabis Indica_, or East Indian hemp, occupy the most prominent place.

No reflective person can look into the writings of Coleridge, De

Quincey, or Bayard Taylor, each of whom has experienced the effects of

these drugs in his own person, and graphically described his sensations,

thoughts, feelings, and dreams while under their influence, without

being struck with awe and astonishment at the modifying and disturbing

influences which these substances exert upon that mysterious connection

which exists between the mind and the material medium through which it

manifests itself. Take the following, for example, from the _Confessions

of an English Opium-Eater_, which, not only for grandeur of description,

but for psychological interest, is unsurpassed by any thing in the

English language.

“The dream commenced with a music which now I often heard in dreams,—a

music of preparation and of awakening suspense; a music like the opening

of the Coronation Anthem, and which, like _that_, gave the feeling of a

vast march—of infinite cavalcades filing off, and the tread of

innumerable armies. The morning was come of a mighty day—a day of crisis

and of final hope for human nature, then suffering some mysterious

eclipse and laboring in some dread extremity. Somewhere, I knew not

where—somehow, I knew not how—by some beings, I knew not whom—a battle,

a strife, an agony, was conducting,—was evolving like a great drama, or

piece of music; with which my sympathy was the more insupportable from

my confusion as to its place, its cause, its nature, and its possible

issue. I, as is usual in dreams, (where, of necessity, we make ourselves

central to every movement,) had the power, and yet had not the power, to

decide it. I had the power, if I could raise myself, to will it; and yet

again had not the power, for the weight of twenty Atlantics was upon me,

or the oppression of inexpiable guilt.

“‘Deeper than ever plummet sounded,’ I lay inactive. Then, like a

chorus, the passion deepened. Some greater interest was at stake,—some

mightier cause than ever yet the sword had pleaded or trumpet had

proclaimed. Then came sudden alarms; hurryings to and fro; trepidations

of innumerable fugitives—I knew not whether from the good cause or the

bad; darkness and lights; tempest and human faces; and, at last, with

the sense that all was lost, female forms, and the features that were

worth all the world to me, and but a moment allowed—and clasped hands,

and heart-breaking partings, and then everlasting farewells! and, with a

sigh such as the caves of hell sighed when the incestuous mother uttered

the abhorred name of death, the sound was reverberated,—everlasting

farewells! and again, and yet again, reverberated,—everlasting

farewells! And I awoke in struggles, and cried aloud, ‘I will sleep no

more!’”

De Quincey took laudanum for the first time to dispel pain, and he thus

describes the effect it had upon him:—“But I took it, and in an hour,

oh, heavens! what a revulsion! what an upheaving, from its lowest

depths, of the inner spirit! what an apocalypse of the world within me!

That my pains had vanished was now a trifle in my eyes. This _negative_

effect was swallowed up in the immensity of those positive effects which

had opened before me,—in the abyss of divine enjoyment thus suddenly

revealed. Here was a panacea,—a φαρμακον νεπενθες for all human woes.

Here was the secret of happiness, about which philosophers had disputed

for so many ages, at once discovered! Happiness might now be bought for

a penny and carried in the waistcoat-pocket; portable ecstasies might be

had corked up in a pint bottle; and peace of mind could be sent down in

gallons by the mail-coach.”

Dr. Madden describes more soberly his sensations when under the

influence of the drug in one of the coffee-houses at Constantinople. “I

commenced with one grain. In the course of an hour and a half it

produced no perceptible effect. The coffee-house keeper was very anxious

to give me an additional pill of two grains, but I was contented with

half a one; and in another half-hour, feeling nothing of the expected

revery, I took half a grain more, making in all two grains in the course

of two hours. After two hours and a half from the first dose, my spirits

became sensibly excited: the pleasure of the sensation seemed to depend

on a universal expansion of mind and matter. My faculties appeared

enlarged; every thing I looked at seemed increased in volume; I had no

longer the same pleasure when I closed my eyes which I had when they

were open; it appeared to me as if it was only external objects which

were acted on by the imagination and magnified into images of pleasure:

in short, it was the ‘faint, exquisite music of a dream’ in a waking

moment. I made my way home as fast as possible, dreading at every step

that I should commit some extravagance. In walking, I was hardly

sensible of my feet touching the ground: it seemed as if I slid along

the street impelled by some invisible agent, and that my blood was

composed of some ethereal fluid, which rendered my body lighter than

air. I got to bed the moment I reached home. The most extraordinary

visions of delight filled my brain all night. In the morning I rose pale

and dispirited; my head ached; my body was so debilitated that I was

obliged to remain on the sofa all day, dearly paying for my first essay

at opium-eating.”

These after-effects are the source of the misery of the opium-eater. The

exciting influence of the drug is almost invariably followed by a

corresponding depression. The susceptibility to external impressions and

the muscular energy are both lessened. A desire for repose ensues, and a

tendency to sleep. The mouth and throat also become dry; the thirst is

increased; hunger diminishes; and the bowels usually become torpid.

When large doses are taken, all the above effects are hastened and

heightened in proportion. The period of depression comes on sooner; the

prostration of energy increases to actual stupor, with or without

dreams; the pulse becomes feeble, the muscles exceedingly relaxed; and,

if enough has been taken, death ensues.

Of course, all these effects are modified by the constitution of the

individual, by the length of time he has accustomed himself to take it,

and by the circumstances in which he is placed. But upon all persons,

and in all circumstances, its final effects, like those of ardent

spirits taken in large and repeated doses, are equally melancholy and

degrading. “A total attenuation of body,” says Dr. Oppenheim, “a

withered, yellow countenance, a lame gait, a bending of the spine,

frequently to such a degree as to assume a circular form, and glassy,

deep-sunken eyes, betray the opium-eater at the first glance. The

digestive organs are in the highest degree disturbed: the sufferer eats

scarcely any thing, and has hardly one evacuation in a week. His mental

and bodily powers are destroyed: he is impotent.”

The influence upon the mental faculties of _Haschisch_, or East Indian

hemp, when taken in large doses, is no less extraordinary than that of

opium.

That accomplished traveller, Bayard Taylor, when in Damascus,

“prompted,” as he says, “by that insatiable curiosity which led him to

prefer the acquisition of all lawful knowledge through the channel of

his own experience,” was induced to make a trial of this drug. Not

knowing the strength of the preparation he employed, he found himself,

shortly after taking the second dose, more thoroughly and completely

under the influence of the drug than was either pleasant or safe.

Speaking of the effects of the stronger dose, he says, “The same fine

nervous thrill of which I have spoken suddenly shot through me. But this

time it was accompanied with a burning sensation at the pit of the

stomach; and, instead of growing upon me with the gradual pace of

healthy slumber, and resolving me, as before, into air, it came with the

intensity of a pang, and shot throbbing along the nerves to the

extremities of my body. The sense of limitation—the confinement of our

senses within the bounds of our own flesh and blood—instantly fell away.

The walls of my frame were burst outward, and tumbled into ruin; and,

without thinking what form I wore,—losing sight even of all idea of

form,—I felt that I existed throughout a vast extent of space. The blood

pulsed from my heart, sped through uncounted leagues before it reached

my extremities; the air drawn into my lungs expanded into seas of limpid

ether; and the arch of my skull was broader than the vault of heaven.

Within the concave that held my brain were the fathomless deeps of blue;

clouds floated there, and the winds of heaven rolled them together; and

there shone the orb of the sun. It was—though I thought not of that at

the time—_like a revelation of the mystery of Omnipresence_.”

EFFECTS OF FEAR.

It is a common practice, in many parts of India, to oblige persons

suspected of crimes to chew dry rice in presence of the officers of the

law. Curious as it may appear, such is the intense influence of fear on

the salivary glands, that, if they are actually guilty, there is no

secretion of saliva in the mouth, and chewing is impossible. Such

culprits generally confess without any further efforts. On the contrary,

a consciousness of innocence allows of a proper flow of fluid for

softening the rice.

Many of our readers are familiar with the case of the thief to whom, in

common with other suspected persons, a stick of a certain length was

given, with the assurance that the stick of the thief would grow by

supernatural power. The culprit, imagining that his stick had actually

increased in length, broke a piece off, and was thus detected. A similar

anecdote is told of a farmer who detected depredations on his corn-bin

by calling his men together and making them mix up a quantity of

feathers in a sieve, assuring them, at the same time, that the feathers

would infallibly stick to the hair of the thief. After a short time, one

of the men raised his hand repeatedly to his head, and thus betrayed

himself.

A Parisian physician, during his visits made in a hired fly, had

received a bottle of real Jamaica rum as a sample, but found, after

returning home, that he had left it in the carriage. He went to the

office, and informed the manager that he had left a virulent poison in

one of the carriages, and desired him to prevent any of the coachmen

from drinking it. Hardly had he got back when he was summoned in great

haste to three of these worthies, who were suffering from the most

horrible colic; and great was his difficulty in persuading them that

they had only stolen some most excellent rum.

One of the most singular examples on record of the effect of fear acting

through the imagination is given by Breschet, a French author of the

sixteenth century, who informs us that the physicians at Montpellier,

which was then a great school of medicine, had every year two criminals,

the one living, the other dead, delivered to them for dissection. On one

occasion they determined to try what effect the mere expectation of

death would produce upon a subject in perfect health; and in order to

carry out the experiment they told the gentleman (for such was his rank)

who was placed at their discretion, that, as the easiest mode of taking

away his life, they would employ the means which Seneca had chosen for

himself, and would therefore open his veins in warm water. Accordingly

they covered his face, pinched his feet, without lancing them, and set

them in a footbath, and then spoke to each other as if they saw that the

blood was flowing freely, and life departing with it. The man remained

motionless; and when, after a while, they uncovered his face, they found

him dead.

FACIAL EXPRESSION.

The facial nerve, which presides over the movements of the face, gives

to the physiognomy its different expressions so as to reflect the

passions and emotions of the soul. To prove this experimentally, Charles

Bell took the most cunning and impressionable monkey he could find in

the menagerie of Exeter Change, and divided its facial nerve on one

side. Excited by pain, the poor monkey made faces with tenfold energy,

but exactly and solely with one side of his face, while the other

remained perfectly impassible.

Of course, no one would repeat this experiment on man; but nature

sometimes takes the whim to make such a curiosity. All who saw the

unfortunate monkey were struck with the strange analogy which its

features presented with those of a comic actor then much in vogue in

London, who could reproduce all sorts of expressions and mirror every

passion with one side of his face, while he kept the other side in a

state of perfect immobility. The experiment of Charles Bell gave the key

to the enigma. The mimic was the victim of a facial hemiplegia, from

some accident to the facial nerve; and he had the shrewdness to make

people believe that voluntary which he could not prevent, and thus to

profit by an otherwise mortifying affliction.

A BROKEN HEART.

The following interesting case of a literally _broken heart_ was related

by a late distinguished medical professor of Philadelphia, to his class,

while lecturing upon the diseases of the heart. It will be seen, on

perusing it, that the expression “broken-hearted” is not merely

figurative.

In the early part of his career, Dr. Mitchell accompanied, as surgeon, a

packet that sailed between Liverpool and one of our Southern ports. On

the return-voyage, soon after leaving Liverpool, while the doctor and

the captain of the vessel, a weather-beaten son of Neptune, but

possessed of uncommonly fine feelings and strong impulses, were

conversing in the latter’s state-room, the captain opened a large chest,

and carefully took out a number of articles of various descriptions,

which he arranged upon a table. Dr. M., surprised at the display of

costly jewels, ornaments, dresses, and all the varied paraphernalia of

which ladies are naturally fond, inquired of the captain his object in

having made so many valuable purchases. The sailor, in reply, said, that

for seven or eight years he had been devotedly attached to a lady, to

whom he had several times made proposals of marriage, but was as often

rejected; that her refusal to wed him, however, had only stimulated his

love to greater exertion; and that finally, upon renewing his offer,

declaring in the ardency of his passion that, without her society, life

was not worth living for, she consented to become his bride upon his

return from his next voyage. He was so overjoyed at the prospect of a

marriage from which, in the warmth of his feelings, he probably

anticipated more happiness than is usually allotted to mortals, that he

spent all his ready money, while in London, for bridal gifts. After

gazing at them fondly for some time, and remarking on them in turn, “I

think this will please Annie,” and “I am sure she will like that,” he

replaced them with the utmost care. This ceremony he repeated every day

during the voyage; and the doctor often observed a tear glisten in his

eye as he spoke of the pleasure he would have in presenting them to his

affianced bride. On reaching his destination, the captain arrayed

himself with more than his usual precision, and disembarked as soon as

possible, to hasten to his love. As he was about to step into the

carriage awaiting him, he was called aside by two gentlemen who desired

to make a communication, the purport of which was that the lady had

proved unfaithful to the trust reposed in her, and had married another,

with whom she had decamped shortly before. Instantly the captain was

observed to clap his hand to his breast and fall heavily to the ground.

He was taken up, and conveyed to his room on the vessel. Dr. M. was

immediately summoned; but, before he reached the poor captain, he was

dead. A post-mortem examination revealed the cause of his unfortunate

decease. His heart was found literally torn in twain! The tremendous

propulsion of the blood, consequent upon such a violent nervous shock,

forced the powerful muscular tissues asunder, and life was at an end.

The heart was broken.

SENSATION AND INTELLIGENCE AFTER DECAPITATION.

While some physiologists are of opinion that death by beheading is

attended with less actual pain than any other manner of death, and is,

therefore, the most _humane_ mode of dis-embarrassing society of a

villain, others contend, and adduce an equally formidable array of facts

to show, that intense agony is experienced, after decollation, in both

the head and the body, and that death by the guillotine, so far from

being easier than hanging, is one of the most painful known. Whatever

may really be the sensations attendant upon the separation of the head

from the body, we have, at least, some curious facts, which throw a

little light on the subject.

It is related that a professor of physiology at Genoa, who has made this

interesting subject his particular study, states that, having exposed

two heads, a quarter of an hour after decollation, to a strong light,

the eyelids closed suddenly. The tongue, which protruded from the lips,

being pricked with a needle, was drawn back into the mouth, and the

countenance expressed sudden pain. The head of a criminal named Tillier

being submitted to examination after the guillotine, the eyes turned in

every direction from whence he was called by name.

Fontenelle declares that he has frequently seen the heads of guillotined

persons move their lips, as if they were uttering remonstrances against

their cruel treatment. If this be so, there is nothing very incredible

in the report, sometimes treated as fabulous, that when the executioner

gave a blow on the face of Charlotte Corday after the head was severed

from the body, _the countenance_ expressed violent indignation.

It is stated on credible authority that some galvanic experiments were

once tried on the body of a habitual snuff-taker, after he had undergone

the operation of being guillotined. On receiving the first shock, the

headless trunk joined its thumb and fore-finger, and deliberately raised

its right arm, as if in the act of taking its customary _pinch_, and

seemed much astonished and perplexed at finding _no nose_ to receive its

wonted tribute!

But the most marvellous tale is told of Sir Everard Digby, who was

beheaded in 1600 for being concerned in the famous Gunpowder Plot. After

the head was struck off, the executioner proceeded, according to the

barbarous usages of the day, to pluck the heart from his body; and when

he had done so, he held it up in full view of the numerous assemblage

gathered round the scaffold to witness the exhibition, and shouted, with

a loud voice, _This is the heart of a traitor!_ Upon which, the _head_,

which was quietly resting on the scaffold, at the distance of a few

feet, showed sundry signs of indignation, and, opening its mouth,

audibly exclaimed, “_That is a lie!_”

The reader will be reminded, by this case of the English knight, of the

conjurer in the Arabian Nights, who, in consequence of a failure in his

necromancy, was decapitated by the order and in the presence of the

Sultan. The head of the sorcerer, after separation from his body, sat

erect upon the floor, and, with a mysterious expression of countenance,

informed his highness that as he rather thought he should have no

further occasion for his books of magic, he would make a present of them

to him; and since he could not very well go to fetch them himself, if

his highness would take the trouble to send for them, he would instruct

him in their use. On being brought, he told the Sultan it was first

necessary for him to turn over every leaf in the books from the

beginning to the end. But he found it was impossible to do this, as they

stuck together, without often wetting his fingers at his mouth. This

infused into the monarch’s veins a subtle and virulent venom, as the

books were poisoned, in consequence of which he died very soon in

torture, overwhelmed with the taunts and curses of the decapitated head.

A case occurred some years ago at Ticonderoga, N. Y., which settles the

question of pain, so far as the body is concerned, and proves that no

sensations whatever can exist in the _body_ after its connection with

the brain is dissolved. It was reported at the time in the Boston

Medical and Surgical Journal, as follows:—

E. D., aged fifty, a man of hale constitution and robust, in making an

effort to scale a board fence, was suddenly precipitated backwards to

the ground, striking first upon the superior and anterior portion of the

head, which luxated the dentatus anteriorly on the third cervical

vertebra. He was at length discovered, and taken in (as the patient

said) after he had lain nearly an hour, in a condition perfectly bereft

of voluntary motion; but, being present, I did not suspect that the

power of sensation was also gone, until the patient (whose speech

remained almost, or quite, perfect, and who was uncommonly loquacious at

that time) said, did he not know to the contrary, he should think that

he had no body. His flesh was then punctured, and sometimes deeply, even

from the feet to the neck; but the patient gave no evidence of feeling,

and, when interrogated, answered that he felt nothing; and, added he, “I

never was more perfectly free from pain in my life;” but he remarked

that he could not live, and accordingly sent for his family, twelve

miles distant, and arranged all his various concerns in a perfectly sane

manner.

The head was thrown back in such a position as to prevent his seeing his

body. The pulse was much more sluggish than natural. Respiration and

speech, but slightly affected, were gradually failing; but he could

articulate distinctly until within a few minutes of his death. All the

senses of the head remained quite perfect to the last. He died

forty-eight hours after the fall.

Repeated attempts were made to reduce the dislocation, but the

transverse processes had become so interlocked that every effort proved

abortive. There was undoubtedly in this case a perfect compression of

the spinal marrow, which prevented the egress of nervous influence from

the brain, while the pneumogastric nerve remained unembarrassed.

ANTIPATHIES.

Antipathies are as various as they are unaccountable, and often in

appearance ridiculous. Yet who can control them, or reason himself into

a conviction that they are absurd? They are, in truth, natural

infirmities or peculiarities, and not fantastical imaginings. In the

French “Ana” we find mention of a lady who would faint on seeing boiled

lobsters; and several persons are mentioned, among them Mary de Medicis,

who experienced the same inconvenience from the smell of roses, though

particularly partial to the odor of jonquils and hyacinths. Another is

recorded who invariably fell into convulsions at the sight of a carp.

Erasmus, although a native of Rotterdam, had such an aversion to fish of

any kind that the smell alone threw him into a fever. Ambrose Paré

mentions a patient of his who could never look at an eel without falling

into a fit. Joseph Scaliger and Peter Abono could neither of them drink

milk. Cardan was particularly disgusted at the sight of eggs. Ladislaus,

King of Poland, fell sick if he saw an apple; and if that fruit was

exhibited to Chesne, secretary to Francis I., a prodigious quantity of

blood would issue from his nose. Henry III. of France could not endure

to sit in a room with a cat, and the Duke of Schomberg ran out of any

chamber into which one entered. A gentleman in the court of the Emperor

Ferdinand would bleed at the nose even if he heard the mewing of the

obnoxious animal, no matter at how great a distance. M. de l’Ancre, in

his _Tableau de l’Inconstance de Toutes Choses_, gives an account of a

very sensible man, who was so terrified on seeing a hedgehog that for

two years he imagined his bowels were gnawed by such an animal. In the

same book we find an account of an officer of distinguished bravery who

never dared to face a mouse, it would so terrify him, unless he had his

sword in his hand. M. de l’Ancre says he knew the individual perfectly

well. There are some persons who cannot bear to see spiders, and others

who eat them as a luxury, as they do snails and frogs. M. Vangheim, a

celebrated huntsman in Hanover, would faint outright, or, if he had

sufficient time, would run away, at the sight of a roast pig. The

philosopher Chrysippus had such an aversion to external reverence, that,

if any one saluted him, he would involuntarily fall down. Valerius

Maximus says that this Chrysippus died of laughing at seeing an ass eat

figs out of a silver plate. John Rol, a gentleman of Alcantara, would

swoon on hearing the word _lana_ (wool) pronounced, although his cloak

was made of wool. Lord Bacon fainted at every eclipse of the moon. Tycho

Brahe shuddered at the sight of a fox; Ariosto, at the sight of a bath;

and Cæsar trembled at the crowing of a cock.

STRANGE INSTANCE OF SYMPATHY.

The Duke de Saint Simon mentions in his _Mémoires_ a singular instance

of constitutional sympathy existing between two brothers. These were

twins,—the President de Banquemore, and the Governor de Bergues, who

were surprisingly alike, not only in their persons, but in their

feelings. One morning, he tells us, when the President was at the royal

audience he was suddenly attacked by an intense pain in the thigh: at

the same instant, as it was discovered afterwards, his brother, who was

with the army, received a severe wound from a sword on the same leg, and

precisely the same part of the leg!

WALKING BLINDFOLDED.

The difficulty of walking to any given point blindfolded can only be

conceived by those who have made the experiment. After wandering about

in every possible direction, now east, now west, at one time forward, at

another time backward, working for a while at the zigzag, then shooting

out like an arrow from a bow, and not unfrequently describing a complete

circle like a miller’s horse, the party is generally a thousand times

more likely to end his travels at the spot from which he set out, than

at the spot to which he wished to go. The following achievement presents

as extraordinary an exception to the general experience on this head, as

perhaps ever occurred:—

Dennis Hendrick, a stone-mason, for a wager of ten guineas, walked from

the Exchange in Liverpool, along Deal Street, to the corner of Byrom

Street,—being a distance of three-quarters of a mile,—blindfolded, and

rolling a coach-wheel. On starting, there were two plasters of Burgundy

pitch put on his eyes, and a handkerchief tied over them, to prevent all

possibility of his seeing. He started precisely at half-past seven in

the morning, and completed his undertaking at twenty minutes past eight,

being in fifty minutes.

FELINE CLOCKS.

M. Huc, in his recent work on the Chinese Empire, tells us that “one

day, when we went to pay a visit to some families of Chinese Christian

peasants, we met, near a farm, a young lad, who was taking a buffalo to

graze along our path. We asked him carelessly, as we passed, whether it

was yet noon. The child raised his head to look at the sun; but it was

hidden behind thick clouds, and he could read no answer there. ‘The sky

is so cloudy,’ said he; ‘but wait a moment;’ and with these words he ran

towards the farm, and came back a few moments afterward with a cat in

his arms. ‘Look here,’ said he, ‘it is not noon yet;’ and he showed us

the cat’s eyes, by pushing up the lids with his hands. We looked at the

child with surprise, but he was evidently in earnest; and the cat,

though astonished, and not much pleased at the experiment made on her

eyes, behaved with the most exemplary complaisance. ‘Very well,’ said

we: ‘thank you;’ and he then let go the cat, who made her escape pretty

quickly, and we continued our route. To say the truth, we had not at all

understood the proceeding; but we did not wish to question the little

pagan, lest he should find out that we were Europeans by our ignorance.

As soon as we reached the farm, however, we made haste to ask our

Christians whether they could tell the clock by looking into a cat’s

eyes. They seemed surprised at the question; but, as there was no danger

in confessing to them our ignorance of the properties of the cat’s eyes,

we related what had just taken place. That was all that was necessary.

Our complaisant neophytes immediately gave chase to all the cats in the

neighborhood. They brought us three or four, and explained in what

manner they might be made use of for watches. They pointed out that the

pupil of their eyes went on constantly growing narrower until twelve

o’clock, when they became like a fine line, as thin as a hair, drawn

perpendicularly across the eye, and that after twelve the dilatation

recommenced. When we had attentively examined the eyes of all the cats

at our disposal, we came to the conclusion that it was past noon, as all

the eyes perfectly agreed upon the point.”

DEVONSHIRE SUPERSTITION.

The following case of gross superstition, which occurred lately in one

of the largest market-towns in the north of Devon, is related by an

eye-witness:—

A young woman living in the neighborhood of Holsworthy, having for some

time past been subject to periodical fits of illness, endeavored to

effect a cure by attending at the afternoon service at the parish

church, accompanied by thirty young men, her near neighbors. Service

over, she sat in the porch of the church, and each of the young men, as

they passed out in succession, dropped a penny into her lap; but the

last, instead of a penny, gave her half a crown, taking from her the

twenty-nine pennies which she had already received. With this half-crown

in her hand, she walked three times round the communion-table, and

afterwards had it made into a ring, by the wearing of which she believes

she will recover her health.

A SKULL THAT HAD A TONGUE.

When Dr. John Donne, the famous poet and divine of the reign of James

I., attained possession of his first living, he took a walk into the

churchyard, where the sexton was at the time digging a grave, and in the

course of his labor threw up a skull. This skull the doctor took in his

hands, and found a rusty headless nail sticking in the temple of it,

which he drew out secretly and wrapped in the corner of his

handkerchief. He then demanded of the grave-digger whether he knew whose

skull that was. He said it was a man’s who kept a brandy-shop,—an

honest, drunken fellow, who one night, having taken two quarts, was

found dead in his bed next morning. “Had he a wife?” “Yes.” “What

character does she bear?” “A very good one: only the neighbors reflect

on her because she married the day after her husband was buried.” This

was enough for the doctor, who, under the pretence of visiting his

parishioners, called on the woman: he asked her several questions, and,

among others, what sickness her husband died of. She gave him the same

account he had before received, whereupon he suddenly opened the

handkerchief, and cried, in an authoritative voice, “Woman, do you know

this nail?” She was struck with horror at the unexpected demand,

instantly owned the fact, and was brought to trial and executed. Truly

might one say, with even more point than Hamlet, that the skull had a

tongue in it.

ROMANTIC HIGHWAYMAN.

In a letter to Mr. Mead, preserved among that gentleman’s papers in the

British Museum, and dated February 3, 1625, is the following account of

a singular highwayman:—

Mr. Clavell, a gentleman, a knight’s eldest son, a great mail and

highway robber, was, together with a soldier, his companion, arraigned

and condemned on Monday last, at the King’s Bench bar: he pleaded for

himself that he never had struck or wounded any man, never taken any

thing from their bodies, as rings, &c., never cut their girths or

saddles, or done them, when he robbed, any corporeal violence. He was,

with his companion, reprieved; he sent the following verses to the king

for mercy, and hath obtained it:—

I that have robbed so oft am now bid stand;

Death and the law assault me, and demand

My life and means: I never used men so,

But, having ta’en their money, let them go.

Yet, must I die? and is there no relief?

The King of kings had mercy on a thief!

So may our gracious king, too, if he please,

Without his council grant me a release;

God is his precedent, and men shall see

His mercy go beyond severity.

Singular Customs.

MEMENTO MORI.

The ancient Egyptians, at their grand festivals and parties of pleasure,

always had a coffin placed on the table at meals, containing a mummy, or

a skeleton of painted wood, which, Herodotus tells us, was presented to

each of the guests with this admonition:—“Look upon this, and enjoy

yourself; for such will you become when divested of your mortal garb.”

This custom is frequently alluded to by Horace and Catullus; and

Petronius tells us that at the celebrated banquet of Trimalcion a silver

skeleton was placed on the table to awaken in the minds of the guests

the remembrance of death and of deceased friends.

BEAUTIFUL SUPERSTITION.

Among the superstitions of the Seneca Indians was one remarkable for its

singular beauty. When a maiden died, they imprisoned a young bird until

it first began to try its powers of song, and then, loading it with

messages and caresses, they loosed its bonds over her grave, in the

belief that it would not fold its wing nor close its eyes until it had

flown to the spirit-land and delivered its precious burden of affection

to the loved and lost.

STRANGE FONDNESS FOR BEAUTY.

In Carazan, a province to the northeast of Tartary, the inhabitants have

a custom, says Dr. Heylin, when a stranger of handsome shape and fine

features comes into their houses, of killing him in the night,—not out

of desire of spoil, or to eat his body, but that the soul of such a

comely person might remain among them.

THE FOUNDATIONS OF DRUIDICAL TEMPLES.

There is a curious tradition both of St. Patrick in Ireland, and of St.

Columba in Iona, that when they attempted to found churches they were

impeded by an evil spirit, who threw down the walls as fast as they were

built, until a human victim was sacrificed and buried under the

foundation, which being done, they stood firm.

It is to be feared that there is too much truth in this story. Not, of

course, that such a thing was done by either a Christian Patrick or

Columba, but by the Druids, from whom the story was fathered upon the

former. Under each of the twelve pillars of one of the Druidical

circular temples in Iona a human body was found to have been buried.

ABYSSINIAN BEEFSTEAKS.

Mr. Bruce, the Abyssinian traveller, has frequently been ridiculed for

asserting that it is a practice in Abyssinia to cut slices from the

backs of their cattle while alive, and then drive them back to pasture;

but his statements have been confirmed by more recent travellers. Mr.

Salt says that a soldier belonging to the party to which he was attached

took one of the cows they were driving before them, cut off two pieces

of flesh from the glutæi muscles of the buttock, near the tail, and then

sewed up the wound, plastering it over with manure, after which the

party proceeded to cook the steaks.

OSTIAK REGARD FOR BEARS.

Tooke, in his work on Russia, tells us of a strange custom that prevails

among the Ostiaks,—a Finnish nation. The Ostiaks, says he, believe that

bears enjoy after death a happiness at least equal to that which they

expect for themselves. Whenever they kill one of these animals,

therefore, they sing songs over him, in which they ask his pardon, and

hang up his skin, to which they show many civilities and pay many fine

compliments, in order to induce him not to wreak his vengeance upon them

in the abode of spirits.

MAKING NOSES.

At Kat Kangra, a place visited by the traveller Vigne, at the base of

the Himalaya, there are native surgeons, celebrated for putting on new

noses. The maimed come a great distance for repairs. When it is

recollected that the rajahs cut off ears and noses without stint, it may

be readily supposed that these surgeons have plenty of patients. The

hope of a restoration of the nasal organ brings them from remote

distances. To all intents and purposes, it is done like the Taliacotian

operation in our hospitals,—by taking a flap of integument from the

forehead. With very simple instruments, and a little cotton wool

besmeared with pitch, to keep the parts together, the success is

sufficient to extend the reputation of the rude operators.

LION-CATCHING IN SOUTH AFRICA.

Mr. Lemue, who formerly resided at Motito, and is familiar with the

Kallibari country, assures us that the remarkable accounts sometimes

circulated as to the people of that part of Africa catching lions by the

tail—of which, one would naturally be incredulous—were perfectly true.

Lions would sometimes become extremely dangerous to the inhabitants.

Having become accustomed to human flesh, they would not willingly eat

any thing else. When a neighborhood became infested, the men would

determine on the measures to be adopted to rid themselves of the

nuisance; then, forming themselves into a band, they would proceed in

search of their royal foe, and beard the lion in his lair. Standing

close by one another, the lion would make his spring on some one of the

party,—every man, of course, hoping he might escape the attack,—when

instantly others would dash forward and seize his tail, lifting it up

close to the body with all their might; thus not only astonishing the

animal, and absolutely taking him off his guard, but rendering his

efforts powerless for the moment; while others closed in with their

spears, and at once stabbed the monster through and through.

HIGH LIFE IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

We gain the following glimpse of the manners of the upper classes in

England, four hundred years ago, from the Journal of Elizabeth

Woodville, subsequently Lady Grey, and finally Queen of Edward IV.

Royalty _in petto_ seems to have taken, with a most refreshing

cordiality, to the avocations of baking and brewing, pig-tending,

poultry-feeding, and pony-catching.

_Monday morning._—Rose at 4 o’clock, and helped Catharine to milk the

cows. Rachel, the dairy-maid, having scalded her hand in so bad a

manner the night before, made a poultice, and gave Robin a penny to

get something from the apothecary.

_6 o’clock._—The buttock of beef too much boiled, and beer a little

stale; (mem. to talk to the cook about the first fault, and to mend

the other myself by tapping a fresh barrel immediately.)

_7 o’clock._—Went to walk with the lady my mother in the court-yard;

fed twenty-five men and women; chid Roger severely for expressing some

ill will at attending us with some broken meat.

_8 o’clock._—Went into the paddock behind the house with my maid

Dorothy; caught Thump, the little pony, myself; rode a matter of ten

miles without saddle or bridle.

_10 o’clock._—Went to dinner. John Grey, a most comely youth; but what

is that to me? a virtuous maid should be entirely under the direction

of her parents. John ate but little, and stole a great many tender

glances at me. Said women could never be handsome in his eyes who were

not good-tempered. I hope my temper is not intolerable: nobody finds

fault with it but Roger, and he is the most disorderly youth in our

house. John Grey likes white teeth: my teeth are a pretty good color.

I think my hair is as black as jet,—though I say it; and John Grey, if

I mistake not, is of the same opinion.

_11 o’clock._—Rose from the table; the company all desirous of walking

in the field. John Grey lifted me over every stile, and twice squeezed

my hand with much vehemence. I cannot say I should have much

objection, for he plays at prison-bar as well as any of the country

gentlemen, is remarkably dutiful to his parents, my lord and lady, and

never misses church on Sunday.

_3 o’clock._—Poor Farmer Robinson’s house burned down by accidental

fire. John Grey proposed a subscription among the company for the

relief of the farmer, and gave no less than four pounds with this

benevolent intent. (Mem. never saw him look so comely as at this

moment.)

_4 o’clock._—Went to prayers.

_6 o’clock._—Fed hogs and poultry.

HAIR IN SEALS.

Stillingfleet, referring to a MS. author who wrote a chronicle of St.

Augustine, says:—

He observes one particular custom of the Normans, _that they were wont

to put some of the hair of their heads or beards into the wax of their

seals_: I suppose rather to be kept as monuments, than as adding any

strength or weight to their charters. So he observes that some of the

hair of William, Earl of Warren, was in his time kept in the Priory of

Lewis.

SCORNING THE CHURCH.

In North Durham, it is customary, in case that the banns of marriage are

thrice published, and the marriage does not take place, for the refusing

party, whether male or female, to pay forty shillings to the vicar as a

penalty for _scorning the church_.

MATRIMONIAL ADVERTISEMENT.

The following strange advertisement from an old newspaper exhibits one

of the customs of rural life in England more than a century ago:—

May no miscarriage

Prevent my marriage!

Matthew Dowson, in Bothell, Cumberland, intends to be married at Holm

Church, on the Thursday before Whitsuntide next, whenever that may

happen—and to return to Bothell to dine.

Mr. Reed gives a turkey to be roasted; William Elliot gives a hen to

be roasted; Edward Clement gives a fat lamb to be roasted; Joseph

Gibson gives a fat pig to be roasted; William Hughes gives a fat calf

to be roasted.

And in order that all this roast may be well basted—do you see?—Mary

Pearson, Betty Hughes, Mary Bushby, Molly Fisher, Sarah Briscoe, and

Betty Porthoust, give, each of them, a pound of butter. The advertiser

will provide every thing else suitable for so festive an occasion: and

he hereby gives notice to all young women desirous of changing their

condition, that he is at present disengaged, and he advises them to

consider that although there may be luck in leisure, yet, in this

case, delays are dangerous; for with him, he is determined that it

shall be—first come, first served.

So come along, lasses who wish to be married—

Mattie Dowson is vexed that so long he has tarried.

Facetiæ.

TITLES FOR THE LIBRARY DOOR, CHATSWORTH.

The Duke of Devonshire found it necessary to construct a door of sham

books for an entrance to the library of Chatsworth. He was tired of the

hackneyed _Plain Dealings_, _Essays on Wood_, _Perpetual Motion_,

_etc._, on such doors, and asked Thomas Hood to give him some new

titles. The following are selections from his amusing list:—

McAdam’s Views in Rhodes.

Pygmalion. By Lord Bacon.

Dante’s Inferno; or, Descriptions of Van Demon’s Land.

Tadpoles; or, Tales out of my Own Head.

Designs for Friezes. By Sir John Franklin.

Recollections of Bannister. By Lord Stair.

Ye Devill on Two-Styx (Black Letter).

Malthus’ Attack of Infantry.

The Life of Zimmerman. By Himself.

Boyle on Steam.

Book-Keeping by Single Entry.

Rules for Punctuation. By a thorough-bred Pointer.

On the Site of Tully’s Offices.

Cornaro on Longevity and the Construction of 74’s.

Cursory Remarks on Swearing.

Shelley’s Conchologist.

On Sore Throat and the Migration of the Swallow. By Abernethy.

The Scottish Boccaccio. By D. Cameron.

Chronological Account of the Date Tree. Percy Vere. In 40 vols.

In-i-go on Secret Entrances.

Cook’s Specimens of the Sandwich Tongue.

Peel on Bell’s System.

Lamb’s Recollections of Suett.

Blaine on Equestrian Burglary; or The Breaking-in of Horses.

The Rape of the Lock, with Bramah’s Notes.

Kosciusko on the Right of the Poles to stick up for themselves.

Haughty-cultural Remarks on London Pride.

THE JESTS OF HIEROCLES.

§A young§ man, meeting an acquaintance, said, “I heard that you were

dead.” “But,” says the other, “you see me alive.” “I do not know how

that may be,” replied he: “you are a notorious liar; but my informant

was a person of credit.”

A man wrote to a friend in Greece, begging him to purchase books. From

negligence or avarice, he neglected to execute the commission; but,

fearing that his correspondent might be offended, he exclaimed, when

next they met, “My dear friend, I never got the letter you wrote to me

about the books.”

An irritable man went to visit a sick friend, and asked him concerning

his health. The patient was so ill that he could not reply; whereupon

the other, in a rage, said, “I hope that I may soon fall sick, and then

I will not answer you when you visit me.”

A speculative gentleman, wishing to teach his horse to live without

food, starved him to death. “I suffered a great loss,” said he, “for

just as he learned to live without eating, he died.”

A robust countryman, meeting a physician, ran to hide behind a wall:

being asked the cause, he replied, “It is so long since I have been

sick, that I am ashamed to look a physician in the face.”

A curious inquirer, desirous to know how he looked when asleep, sat with

closed eyes before a mirror.

A man, hearing that a raven would live two hundred years, bought one to

try.

One of twin brothers died: a fellow, meeting the survivor, asked, “Which

is it that’s dead, you or your brother?”

A man who had to cross a river entered a boat on horseback: being asked

why, he replied, “I must ride, because I am in a hurry.”

A foolish fellow, having a house to sell, took a brick from the wall to

exhibit as a sample.

A man, meeting a friend, said, “I spoke to you last night in a dream.”

“Pardon me,” replied the other; “I did not hear you.”

A man that had nearly been drowned while bathing, declared that he would

never enter the water again till he had learned to swim.

A student in want of money sold his books, and wrote home, “Father,

rejoice; for I now derive my support from literature.”

During a storm, the passengers on board a vessel that appeared in danger

seized different implements to aid them in swimming; and one of the

number selected for this purpose the anchor.

A wittol, a barber, and a bald-headed man travelled together. Losing

their way, they were forced to sleep in the open air; and, to avert

danger, it was agreed to keep watch by turns. The lot fell first on the

barber, who, for amusement, shaved the fool’s head while he slept; he

then woke him, and the fool, raising his hand to scratch his head,

exclaimed, “Here’s a pretty mistake! Rascal, you have waked the

bald-headed man instead of me.”

A gentleman had a cask of fine wine, from which his servant stole a

large quantity. When the master perceived the deficiency, he diligently

inspected the top of the cask, but could find no traces of an opening.

“Look if there be not a hole in the bottom,” said a bystander.

“Blockhead,” he replied, “do you not see that the deficiency is at the

top, and not at the bottom?”

BREVITY.

The London member of the house of Rothschild once wrote to his Paris

correspondent to ascertain if any alteration had occurred in the price

of certain stocks. The inquiry was only a simple

=?=

The reply was equally brief: ———

=0=

Mr. McNair, a man of few words, wrote to his nephew at Pittsburg the

following laconic letter:—

§Dear Nephew§,

=;=

To which the nephew replied, by return of mail,—

§Dear Uncle§,

=:=

The long of this short was, that the uncle wrote to his nephew, _See my

coal on_, which a se-mi-col-on expressed; and the youngster informed his

uncle that the coal was shipped, by simply saying, _Col-on_.

When Lord Buckley married a rich and beautiful lady, whose hand had been

solicited at the same time by Lord Powis, in the height of his felicity

he wrote thus to the Duke of Dorset:—

_Dear Dorset_:—I am the happiest dog alive!

§Buckley.§

§ANSWER§:

_Dear Buckley_:—Every dog has his day.

§Dorset.§

Louis XIV., who loved a concise style, one day met a priest on the road,

whom he asked, hastily,—

“Whence came you—where are you going—what do you want?”

The priest instantly replied,—

“From Bruges—to Paris—a benefice.”

“You shall have it,” replied the king.

A lady having occasion to call upon Abernethy, the great surgeon, and

knowing his repugnance to any thing like verbosity, forbore speaking

except simply in reply to his laconic inquiries. The consultation,

during three visits, was conducted in the following manner:—

_First Day._—(Lady enters and holds out her finger.) _Abernethy._—“Cut?”

_Lady._—“Bite.” _A._—“Dog?” _L._—“Parrot.” _A._—“Go home and poultice

it.”

_Second Day._—(Finger held out again.) _A._—“Better?” _L._—“Worse.”

_A._—“Go home and poultice it again.”

_Third Day._—(Finger held out as before.) _A._—“Better?” _L._—“Well.”

_A._—“You’re the most sensible woman I ever met with. Good-bye. Get

out.”

Since Cæsar’s famous “_veni, vidi, vici_,” (I came, I saw, I conquered,)

many military commanders have rendered their despatches memorable for

pith and conciseness; but Sir Sidney Smith bears the palm for both wit

and brevity in his announcement of the capture of Scinde:—“_Peccavi_” (I

have sinned). Gen. Havelock’s “We are in _Lucknow_” has already become a

matter of history.

The following _jeu d’esprit_, written in 1793, was occasioned by the

circumstance of Lord Howe returning from his pursuit of the French

fleet, after an absence of six weeks, during which he had only _seen_

the enemy, without having been able to overtake and bring them to

action:—

When Cæsar triumphed o’er his Gallic foes,

Three words concise his gallant acts disclose;

But Howe, more brief, comprises his in _one_,

And _vidi_ tells us all that he has done.

If brevity is the soul of wit, Talleyrand was the greatest of wits. A

single word was often sufficient for his keenest retort. When a

hypochondriac, who had notoriously led a profligate life, complained to

the diplomatist that he was enduring the torments of hell,—“Je sens les

tourmens de l’enfer,”—the answer was, “_Déjà?_” (Already?) To a lady who

had lost her husband Talleyrand once addressed a letter of condolence in

two words:—“O, Madame!” In less than a year the lady had married again;

and then his letter of congratulation was, “Ah, Madame!” Could any thing

be more wittily significant than the “O” and the “Ah” of this

sententious correspondence?

SAME JOKE DIVERSIFIED.

Prince Metternich once requested the autograph of Jules Janin. The witty

journalist sent him the following:—

“I acknowledge the receipt from M. de Metternich of twenty bottles of

Johannisberg, for which I return infinite thanks.

“§Jules Janin.§”

The prince, in return, doubled the quantity, and sent him forty bottles.

This is equal to the joke of Rochester on the occasion of Charles II.’s

crew of rakes writing pieces of poetry and handing them to Dryden, so

that he might decide which was the prettiest poet. Rochester finished

his piece in a few minutes; and Dryden decided that it was the best. On

reading it, the lines were found to be the following:—

“I promise to pay, to the order of John Dryden, twenty

pounds.—§Rochester.§”

The following hyperbolical compliment paid to Louis XIV., after his

numerous victories, is almost literally translated from the French of a

Gascon author of those days, and, extraordinary as it may seem, is said

to have obtained for the writer of it the premium alluded to in his

gasconade:—

To him whose muse in lofty strains

Shall blazon Louis’ famed campaigns

And every great exploit,

Belongs the prize of twenty pounds:—

What! only twenty! Blood and wounds!

For each ’tis scarce a doit.[17]

Footnote 17:

The following inscription on a medal of Louis XIV. illustrates the

servile adulation of that period:—

See in profile great Louis here designed!

Both eyes portrayed would strike the gazer blind.

The Emperor Nicholas of Russia was thus “sold,” a few years ago. During

an interview which Martineff, the comedian and mimic, had succeeded in

obtaining with the Prince, (Volkhonsky, high steward,) the emperor

walked into the room unexpectedly, yet with a design, as was soon made

evident. Telling the actor that he had heard of his talents and should

like to see a specimen of them, he bade him mimic the old minister. This

feat was performed with so much gusto that the emperor laughed

immoderately, and then, to the great horror of the poor actor, desired

to have himself “taken off.” “’Tis physically impossible,” pleaded

Martineff. “Nonsense!” said Nicholas: “I insist on its being done.”

Finding himself on the horns of a dilemma, the mimic took heart of

grace, and, with a promptitude and presence of mind that probably saved

him, buttoned his coat over his breast, expanded his chest, threw up his

head, and, assuming the imperial port to the best of his power, strode

across the room and back; then, stopping opposite the minister, he

cried, in the exact tone and manner of the Czar, “Volkhonsky! pay

Monsieur Martineff one thousand silver roubles.” The emperor for a

moment was disconcerted; but, recovering himself with a faint smile, he

ordered the money to be paid.

OLD NICK.

When Nicholas Biddle was President of the United States Bank, there was

an old negro hanger-on about the premises named Harry. One day, in a

social mood, Biddle said to the darkey, “Well what is your name, my old

friend?” “Harry, sir—ole Harry, sir,” said the other, touching his

shabby hat. “Old Harry!” said Biddle, “why that is the name that they

give to the devil, is it not?” “Yes, sir,” said the colored gentleman,

“sometimes ole Harry and sometimes ole Nick.”

SYLLOGISM.

The famous sorites or syllogism of Themistocles was: That his infant son

commanded the whole world, proved thus:—

My infant son rules his mother.

His mother rules me.

I rule the Athenians.

The Athenians rule the Greeks.

The Greeks rule Europe.

And Europe rules the world.

A FALSE FRIEND.

“You may say what you please,” said Bill Muggins, speaking of a deceased

comrade, “Jake was a good boy, he was, and a great hunter; but he was

the meanest man that ever breathed in Old Kentuck; and he played one of

the sharpest tricks you ever heard of, and I’ll tell you how it was. I

was out shootin’ with him one mornin’. I tell you the duck was plenty;

and other game we despised as long as we could see duck. Jake he was too

mean to blaze away unless he could shoot two or three at a shot. He used

to blow me up for wastin’ shot and powder so, but I didn’t care—I banged

away. Well, somehow or other, while fussin’ around the boat, my

powder-flask fell overboard in about sixteen feet of water, which was as

clear as good gin, and I could see the flask lay at the bottom. Jake was

a good swimmer, and a good diver, and he said he’d fetch her up; so in a

minit he was in. Well, I waited quite a considerable time for him to

come up; then I looked over the side for him. Great Jerusalem! there sot

old Jake on a pile of oyster-shells pourin’ the powder out of my flask

into his’n. Wasn’t that mean?”

GASCONADE AND HOAXING.

A Gascon, in proof of his nobility, asserted that in his father’s castle

they used no other firewood than the batons of the different marshals of

France of his family.

A Gascon officer, on hearing of the boastful exploits of a certain

prince, who, among other things, had killed six men with his own hands

in the course of an assault upon a city, said, disdainfully, “Poh,

that’s nothing: the mattress I sleep on is stuffed with nothing but the

_whiskers_ of those I have sent to the other world.”

Vernon’s skill in the invention of marvellous stories has never been

surpassed, even by the peddlers of wooden nutmegs. Talking one day about

the intense heat of the sun in India, he remarked that it was a common

thing there for people to be charred to powder by a _coup de soleil_,

and that upon one occasion, while dining with a Hindoo, one of his

host’s wives was suddenly reduced to ashes, whereupon the Hindoo rang

the bell, and said to the attendant who answered it, “Bring fresh

glasses, and _sweep up your mistress_.”