Gleanings from the Harvest-Fields of Literature_ A Melange of Excerpta 1622 downloads.pdf

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gleanings from the Harvest-
Fields of Literature: A Melange of Excerpta
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Gleanings from the Harvest-Fields of Literature: A Melange of
Excerpta

Compiler: Charles C. Bombaugh

Release date: March 21, 2018 [eBook #56805]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56805

Credits: Produced by Richard Tonsing, Branden Aldridge and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLEANINGS
FROM THE HARVEST-FIELDS OF LITERATURE: A MELANGE OF
EXCERPTA ***

GLEANINGS
FOR THE CURIOUS
FROM THE

Harvest-Fields of Literature.

A MELANGE OF EXCERPTA,

COLLATED BY

C. C. BOMBAUGH, A.M., M.D.
“So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had gleaned: and it was about an ephah of barley.” Ruth 2:17.

“I have here made a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own but the string that ties them.”—Montaigne.

PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
1890.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by
A. D. WORTHINGTON & CO.
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

Prefatory.

I am not ignorant, ne unsure, that many there are, before whose sight this
Book shall finde small grace, and lesse favour. So hard a thing it is to write
or indite and matter, whatsoever it be, that should be able to sustaine and
abide the variable judgement, and to obtaine or winne the constant love and
allowance of every man, especially if it containe in it any novelty or
unwonted strangenesse.—Raynald’s Woman’s Book.

Bid him welcome. This is the motley-minded gentleman.
As You Like It.

—A fountain set round with a rim of old, mossy stones, and paved in its bed
with a sort of mosaic work of variously-colored pebbles.
House of Seven Gables.

—A gatherer and a disposer of other men’s stuff.
Wotton.

A running banquet that hath much variety, but little of a sort.
Butler.

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.

Love’s Labor Lost.

There’s no want of meat, sir; portly and curious viands are prepared to
please all kinds of appetites.
Massinger.

A dinner of fragments is said often to be the best dinner. So are there few
minds but might furnish some instruction and entertainment out of their
scraps, their odds and ends of thought. They who cannot weave a uniform
web may at least produce a piece of patchwork; which may be useful and
not without a charm of its own.
Guesses at Truth.

—It is a regular omnibus; there is something in it to everybody’s taste.
Those who like fat can have it; so can they who like lean; as well as those
who prefer sugar, and those who choose pepper.
Mysteries of Paris.

Read, and fear not thine own understanding: this book will create a clear
one in thee; and when thou hast considered thy purchase, thou wilt call the
price of it a charity to thyself.
Shirley.

In winter you may reade them ad ignem, by the fireside, and in summer ad
umbram, under some shadie tree; and therewith passe away the tedious
howres.
Saltonstall.

INTRODUCTION.

An earlier edition of Gleanings having attracted the hearty approval of a
limited circle of that class of readers who prefer “a running banquet that
hath much variety, but little of a sort,” the present publisher requested the
preparation of an enlargement of the work. In the augmented form in which
it is now offered to the public, the contents will be found so much more
comprehensive and omnifarious that, while it has been nearly doubled in
size, it has been more than doubled in literary value.
Miscellanea of the omnium-gatherum sort appear to be as acceptable to-day
as they undoubtedly were in the youthful period of our literature, though for
an opposite reason. When books were scarce, and costly, and inaccessible,
anxious readers found in “scripscrapologia” multifarious sources of
instruction; now that books are like the stars for multitude, the reader who
is appalled by their endless succession and variety is fain to receive with
thankfulness the cream that is skimmed and the grain that is sifted by
patient hands for his use. Our ancestors were regaled with such olla-podrida
as “The Gallimaufry: a Kickshaw [Fr. quelque chose] Treat which
comprehends odd bits and scraps, and odds and ends;” or “The Wit’s
Miscellany: odd and uncommon epigrams, facetious drolleries, whimsical
mottoes, merry tales, and fables, for the entertainment and diversion of
good company.” To the present generation is accorded a wider field for
excursion, from the Curiosities of Disraeli, and the Commonplaces of
Southey, to the less ambitious collections of less learned collaborators.
“Into a hotch-potch,” says Sir Edward Coke, “is commonly put not one
thing alone, but one thing with other things together.” The present volume is
an expedient for grouping together a variety which will be found in no other
compilation. From the nonsense of literary trifling to the highest expression
of intellectual force; from the anachronisms of art to the grandest

revelations of science; from selections for the child to extracts for the
philosopher, it will accommodate the widest diversity of taste, and furnish
entertainment for all ages, sexes, and conditions. As a pastime for the
leisure half-hour, at home or abroad; as a companion by the fireside, or the
seaside, amid the hum of the city, or in the solitude of rural life; as a means
of relaxation for the mind jaded by business activities, it may be safely
commended to acceptance.
The aim of this collation is not to be exhaustive, but simply to be well
compacted. The restrictive limits of an octavo require the winnowings of
selection in place of the bulk of expansion. Gargantua, we are told by
Rabelais, wrote to his son Pantagruel, commanding him to learn Greek,
Latin, Chaldaic, and Arabic; all history, geometry, arithmetic, music,
astronomy, natural philosophy, etc., “so that there be not a river in the world
thou dost not know the name and nature of all its fishes; all the fowls of the
air; all the several kinds of shrubs and herbs; all the metals hid in the
bowels of the earth, all gems and precious stones. I would furthermore have
thee study the Talmudists and Cabalists, and get a perfect knowledge of
man. In brief, I would have thee a bottomless pit of all knowledge.” While
this book does not aspire to such Gargantuan comprehensiveness, it seeks a
higher grade of merit than that which attaches to those who “chronicle
small beer,” or to him who is merely “a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.”
Quaint old Burton, in describing the travels of Paulus Emilius, says, “He
took great content, exceeding delight in that his voyage, as who doth not
that shall attempt the like? For peregrination charms our senses with such
unspeakable and sweet variety, that some count him unhappy that never
traveled, a kind of prisoner, and pity his case that from his cradle to his old
age beholds the same still; still, still, the same, the same.” It is the purpose
of these Gleanings to compass such “sweet variety” by conducting the
reader here, through the green lanes of freshened thought, and there,
through by-paths neglected and gray with the moss of ages; now, amid
cultivated fields, and then, adown untrodden ways; at one time, to rescue
from oblivion fugitive thoughts which the world should not “willingly let
die,” at another, to restore to sunlight gems which have been too long
“underkept and down supprest.” The compiler asks the tourist to
accompany him, because with him, as with Montaigne and Hans Andersen,
there is no pleasure without communication, and though all men may find

in these Collectanea some things which they will recognize as old
acquaintances, yet will they find many more with which they are unfamiliar,
and to which their attention has never been awakened.

Contents.
Alphabetical Whims.

The Freaks and Follies of Literature—Account of certain Singular Books—What are
Pangrammata?—The Banished Letters—Eve’s Legend—Alphabetical Advertisement—The
Three Initials—A Jacobite Toast—“The Beginning of Eternity”—The Poor Letter II—The
Letters of the World—Traps for the Cockneys—Ingenious Verses on the Vowels—
Alliterative Verses—“A Bevy of Belles”—Antithetical Sermon—Acrostics—Double, Triple,
and Reversed Acrostics—Beautiful and Singular Instances—The Poets in Verse—On
Benedict Arnold—Curious Pasquinade—Monastic Verses—The Figure of the Fish—
Acrostic on Napoleon—Madame Rachael—Masonic Memento—“Hempe”—“Brevity of
Human Life”—Acrostic Valentine—Anagrams—German, Latin, and English Instances—
Chronograms. 25

Palindromes.

Reading in every Style—What is a Palindrome?—What St. Martin said to the Devil—The
Lawyer’s Motto—What Adam said to Eve—The Poor Young Man in Love—What Dean
Swift wrote to Dr. Sheridan—“The Witch’s Prayer”—The Device of a Lady—Huguenot and
Romanist; Double Dealing. 59

Equivoque.

A Very Deceitful Epistle—A Wicked Love Letter—What a Young Wife wrote to her Friend—
The Jesuit’s Creed—Revolutionary Verses—Double Dealings—A Fatal Name—The Triple
Platform—A Bishop’s Evasion—The “Toast” given by a Smart Young Man—“The
Handwriting on the Wall”—French Actresses—How Mlle. Mars told her Age—A Lenient
Judge—What Mlle. Cico whimpered to “the Bench.” 64

The Cento.

“A Cloak of Patches”—How Centos are made—Mosaic Poetry—The Poets in a Mixed State
—New Version of Old Lines—Cento on Life—A Cento from thirty-eight Authors—Cento
from Pope—Biblical Sentiments—The Return of Israel—Religious Centos. 73

Macaronic Verse.

“A Treatise on Wine”—Monkish Opinions—Which Tree is Best?—A Lover with Nine Tongues
—Horace in a New Dress—What was Written on a Fly-Leaf—“The Cat and the Rats”—An
Advertisement in Five Languages—Parting Address to a Friend—“Oh, the Rhine!”—The
Death of the Sea Serpent. 78

Chain Verse.

Lasphrise’s Novelties—Singular Ode to Death—On “The Truth”—“Long I looked into the
Sky”—A Ringing Song—A Gem of Three Centuries Old. 85

Bouts Rimés.

The Skeletons of Poetry—How the Poet Dulot lost all his Ideas—The Flight of three hundred
Sonnets—The “Nettle” Rhymes—How a Young Lady teased her Beau—Assisting a Poet—
Miss Lydia’s Acrostic—Alfred De Musset’s Lines—What the Duc de Malakoff wrote—
Reversed Rhymes—How to make “Rhopalic” verses!—What they are. 88

Emblematic Poetry.

Poetry in Visible Shape—The Bow and Arrow of Love—The Deceitful Glass—Prudent Advice
—A Very Singular Dirge—Poetry among the Monks—Sacred Symbols—A Hymn in
Cruciform Shape—Ancient Devices—Verses within the Cross—Cypher—“U O a O. but I O
U”—Perplexing Printer’s Puzzle—An Oxford Joke—The Puzzle of “The Precepts Ten”—A
Mysterious Letter to Miss K. T. J. 92

Monosyllables.

The Power of Little Words—How Pope Ridiculed them—The “Universal Prayer”—Example
of Dr. Watts—Wesley’s Hymns—Writings of Shakespeare and Milton—“Address to the
Daffodils”—Geo. Herbert’s Poems—Testimony of Keble, Young, Landor, and Fletcher—
Examples from Bailey’s “Festus”—The Short Words of Scripture—Big and Little Words
Compared. 98

The Bible.

Who wrote the Scriptures—Why—And When—Accuracy of the Bible—The Testimony of
Modern Discoveries—Scope and Depth of Scripture Teaching—What Learned Men have
written of the Bible—Testimony of Rousseau, Wilberforce, Bolingbroke, Sir Wm. Jones,
Webster, John Quincy Adams, Addison, Byron, &c.—Who Translated the Bible—Wickliffe’s
Version—Tyndale’s Translation—Matthew’s Bible—Cranmer’s Edition—The Geneva Bible
—The Breeches Bible—The Bishop’s Bible—Parker’s Bible—The Douay Bible—King
James’s Bible—The Number of Books, Chapters, Verses, Words, and Letters in the Old and
New Testaments—The Bible Dissected—An Extraordinary Calculation—Distinctions
between the Gospels—The Lost Books—What the word “Selah” means—The Poetry of the
Bible—Shakespeare’s Knowledge of Scripture—The “True Gentleman” of the Bible—
Misquotations from Scripture—A Scriptural “Bull”—Wit and Humor in the Bible—Sortes
Sacræ—Casting Lots with the Bible. 103

The Name of God.

How God is known—His Name in all the tongues of Earth—Ancient Saxon Ideas of Deity
—“Elohim” and “Jehovah”—The “Lord” of the Ancient Jews—“God in Shakespeare”—
The Fatherhood of God—The Parsee, Jew, and Christian. 127

I. H. S.

The Name of Jesus—What does I. H. S. Mean?—De Nomine Jesu—What St. Bernardine did
—“The Flower of Jesse”—Story of the Infant Jesus—Ancient Legends of Christ—Persian
Story; The Dead Dog—Description of Christ’s Person—The Death Warrant of Christ—The
Sign of the Cross in Ancient America. 130

The Lord’s Prayer.

Thy and Us—The “Spirit” of the Lord’s Prayer—Gothic Version of the Fourth Century—
Metrical Versions—Set to Music—The Prayer Illustrated—Acrostical Paraphrase—What
the Bible Commentators Said—The Prayer Echoed—A Singular Acrostic. 136

Ecclesiasticæ.

Anecdotes of Clergy—Excessive Civility—A Very Polite Preacher—Dean Swift’s short Sermon 143
—“Down with the Dust”—An Abbreviated Sermon—Dr. Dodd’s Sermon on Malt—
Bombastic Style of Bascom—The Preachers of Cromwell’s time—When a man ought to
Cough!—Origin of Texts—How the Ancient Prophets Preached—Clerical Blunders—

Proving an Alibi—Whitefield and the Sailors—Protestant Excommunication—The Tender
Mercies of John Knox.

Puritan Peculiarities.

The Puritan Maiden “Tribby”—A Jury-List of 1658—An Extraordinary List of Names—
Singular Similes—Early Punishments in Massachusetts—Virginia Penalties in the Olden
Time—Primitive Fines for Curious Crimes—Staying away from Church—The “Blue Laws”
of Connecticut—Hard Punishments for Little Faults. 150

Paronomasia.

The Art of Pun-making—What is Wit?—Puns Among the Hebrews—A Pungent Chapter—
Punning Examples—The Short Road to Wealth—A “Man of Greece”—Witty Impromptus of
Sydney Smith—Startling toast of Harry Erskine—“Top and Bottom”—The Imp of Darkness
and the Imp o’ Light—A Printer’s Epitaph—The “whacks” and the “stick”—“Wo-man”
and “Whim-men”—Faithless Sally Brown—Whiskers versus Razors—Pleasure and Payne
—Plaint of the old Pauper—To my Nose—Bad “accountants” but excellent “book-
keepers”—The Vegetable Girl—On an Old Horse—Grand Scheme of Emigration—“The
Perilous Practice of Punning”—“Tu Portu Salus”—On a Youth who was killed by Fruit—
The Appeal of Widow-Hood—Swift’s Latin Puns—Puns in Macbeth—Classical Puns and
Mottoes—Mottoes of the English Peerage—Jeux-de-Mots—How Schott Willing—A
Catalectic Monody—Bees of the Bible—Franklin’s “Re’s”—Funny “Miss-Nomers”—
Crooked Coincidences—A Court Fool’s Pun. 155

English Words and Forms of Expression.

Dictionary English—Number of words in the English Language—Language of the Bible—
Sources of the Language—Helping a Foreigner—Difficulties of the Language—Disraelian
English—Why use “Ye”?—Its, His, and Her—How often “That” may be used—How many
sounds are given to “ough”—A Literary Squabble—Concerning certain Words—Excise,
Pontiff, Rough—Dr. Johnson in Trouble—Americanisms—“No Love Lost”—The Forlorn
Hope—Quiz—Tennyson’s English—Eccentric Etymologies—Words which have changed
their Meaning—Strange Derivations—Influence of Names—Big Words and Long Names. 182

Tall Writing.

The Domicile erected by John—New Version of an Old Story—Curiosities of Advertising—Mr.
Connors and his big Words—Curiosities of the Post Office—Singular Play Bill—Andrew
Borde, his Book—The Mad Poet—Foote’s Funny Farrago—Burlesque of Dr. Johnson—
Newspaper Eulogy—“Clear as Mud”—An Indignant Letter—A Chemical Valentine—The
Surgeon to his Lady-love—The Lawyers Ode to Spring—Proverbs for Precocious Pupils. 212

Metric Prose.

Unconscious Poetizing—Cowper’s Rhyming Letter to Newton—Poetic Prose in Irving’s
Knickerbocker—Example from Disraeli’s “Alroy”—Unintentional Rhythm in Charles
Dickens’ works—Old Curiosity Shop and Nicholas Nickleby—American Notes—
Versification in Scripture—Rhymes from Celebrated Prosers—Curious Instance of
Abraham Lincoln—Opinion of Dr. Johnson—Examples from Kemble and Siddons. 223

The Humors of Versification.

The Story of the Lovers—Mingled Moods and Tenses—The Stammering Wife—A Song with
Variations—“While She Rocks the Cradle”—A Serio-Comic Elegy—Reminiscence of Troy
—Concerning Vegetarianism—W. C. Bryant as a Humorist—Address “To a Mosquito”—
The “Poet” of the “Atlantic”—Bryant’s Travesty—A Rare Pipe—The Human Ear—A
Lesson in Acoustics—Amusing Burlesque of Tennyson—Sir Tray; an Arthurian Idyl—All
About the “Ologies”—The Variation Humbug—Buggins and the Busy Bee—Comical
Singing in Church—The Curse of O’Kelly. 230

Hiberniana.

Irish Bulls and Blunders—Miss Edgeworth on the “Bull”—Comical Letter of an Irish “M.
P.”—Bulls in Mississippi—American Bulls—The New Jail—A Frenchman’s Blunder—The
“Puir Silly Body” who wrote a Book—The “bulls” of Classical Writers—Bulls from every
Quarter and of all kinds. 252

Blunders.

Slips of the Press—The Bishop Accused of Swearing—The Damp Old Church—From a
French Newspaper—The Pig-killing Machine and the Doctor—Slips of the Telegraph—
Simmons and the Cranberries—Finishing his Education—The Poets in a Quandary—
Blunders of Translators—Rather Gigantic Grasshoppers—“Love’s last Shift”—Amusing
Blunder of Voltaire—“A Fortune Cutting Meat”—A New “Translation” of Hamlet—The
Frenchman and the Welsh Rabbit. 259

Misquotations.

Curious Misquotations of Well-known Authors—Example of Collins—Sir Walter Scott in
Error—Blunder of Sir Archibald Alison—Cruikshank as the Real “Simon Pure”—Judge
Best’s “Great Mind”—Byron’s Little Mistake. 266

Fabrications.

The Description of Christ’s Person a Fabrication—“Detector’s” Charge against Scott—The
“Ministering Angel” not a Fabrication—The Moon Hoax—A Literary “Sell”—Carlyle’s
Worshippers Outwitted—Mrs. Hemans’ Forgeries—Sheridan’s “Greek”—Spurious Ballads
—The Simple Ballad Trick—A Hoax upon Scott—Psalmanazar’s Celebrated Fabrications
—Benjamin Franklin’s Parable—The Forgeries of Ireland—Imitations of Shakespeare. 269

Interrupted Sentences.

The Judge and the Criminal—“Free from Guile”—Poor Mary “Confined”—Erskine’s
“Subscription”—A Satisfactory Note—“Little Hel”—Going to War—The Poet Assisted;
the Sun and the Fishes—Giving him the “lie”—De Quincey and the Fiend—Wit in the
House of Commons. 277

Echo Verse.

Ancient Echo Verses—Address to Queen Elizabeth—London before the Restoration—Echo
Song by Addison—A Dutch Pasquinade—The Gospel Echo—Echo and the Lover—Dean
Swift’s verses on Women—Buonaparte and the Echo—Fatal Verses—Why Palm, the
Publisher, was shot—Remarkable Echoes—A Fatal Confession—Extraordinary facts in
Acoustics—Hearing Afar Off. 281

Puzzles.

Puzzles defended: their use and value—Exercise for the Mind—Ancient Perplexities—“The
Liar”—“Puzzled to Death”—A French rebus—Napoleon Buonaparte’s Cypher—A Queer-
looking Proclamation—A curious Puzzle for the Lawyers—Sir Isaac Newton’s Riddle—
Cowper’s Riddle—Canning’s Riddle—A Prize Enigma—Quincy’s Comparison—Perplexing
Intermarriages—Prophetic Distich—The “Number of the Beast”—Galileo’s Logograph—
Persian Riddles—The Chinese Tea Song—Death and Life—The Rebus—What is it?—The
Book of Riddles—Bishop Wilberforce’s Riddle—Curiosities of Cipher—Secret Writing—
Remarkable Cryptographs. 290

The Reason Why.

Why Germans Eat Sauer-Kraut—Why Pennsylvania was Settled—Whence the Huguenots 310
derived their name—How Monarchs Die—Origin of the name of Boston—Concerning
Weathercocks—Cutting off with a Shilling—Why Cardinals hats are red—The Roast Beef of

England—A Sensible Quack—Who was the first Gentleman—Solution of a Juggler’s
Mystery.

Weather-Wisdom.

Sheridan’s Rhyming Calendar—Sir Humphrey Davy’s Weather Omens—Jenner’s “Signs of
the Weather”—“The Shepherd’s Calendar”—Predictions from Birds, Beasts, and Insects—
Circles round the Sun and Moon—Quaint Old-time Prophecies—The Evil Days of every
Month. 317

O. S. and N. S.

The Julian and the Gregorian Calendars—How Cæsar arranged the Calendar—The Julian
Year—Going faster than the Sun—Pope Gregory’s Efforts—Origin of the New Style
—“Poor Job’s Almanac”—The Loss of Eleven Days—How the matter was Explained. 325

Memoria Technica.

The Books of the Old Testament—The Books of the New—Versified helps to Memory—Names
of Shakespeare’s Plays—List of English Sovereigns—Names of the Presidents—The
Decalogue in verse—Short Metrical Grammar—Number of days in each Month—How
Quakers Remember. 327

Origin of Things Familiar.

Mind your P’s and Q’s—All Fool’s Day—The First Playing Cards—“Sub Rosa”—“Over the 331
Left”—“Kicking the Bucket”—The Bumper—A Royal Saying—Story of Joe Dun, the Bailiff
—The First Humbug—Pasquinade—The First Bottled Ale—The Gardener and the Potatoes
—Tarring and Feathering—The Stockings of Former Time—The Order of the Garter—
Drinking Healths—A Feather in his Cap—The Word “Book”—Nine Tailors and One Man
—“Viz”—Signature of the Cross—The Turkish Crescent—The Postpaid Envelopes of the
17th Century—Who first sang the “Old Hundredth?”—Who wrote the “Marseillaise
Hymn?”—Thrilling Story of the French Revolution—The Origin of “Yankee Doodle”—
Story of Lucy Locket and Kitty Fisher—How Dutchmen sing “Yankee Doodle”—How the
American Flag was chosen—Who was Brother Jonathan? What is known of “Uncle
Sam!”—The Dollar Mark [$]: what does it mean?—Bows and Arrows in the Olden Time—
All about Guns—The first Insurance Company—The Banks of three Centuries ago—The
Invention of Bells—Who first said “Boo!”—Who made the first Clock—The Watches of the
Olden Time—All about the Invention of Printing—The first Cock-fights—Meaning of the
word “Turncoat”—Who invented Lucifer Matches?—When was the Flag of England first
unfurled—Why are Literary ladies called “Blue Stockings?”—Origin of the word
“Skedaddle”—How Foolscap Paper got its name—The First Forged Bank-Note—Who

made the first “Piano Forte?”—The first Doctors—The first Thanksgiving Proclamation—
First Prayer in Congress—The first Reporters—Origin of the word “News”—The Earliest
Newspapers—Who sent the first Telegraphic Message.

Nothing New Under the Sun.

First idea of the Magnetic Telegraph—Telegraph before Morse—Telegraph a Century Ago—
Who made the first Steam Engine?—What Marian de l’Orme saw in the Mad-house—What
the Marquis of Worcester Did—Richelieu’s Mistake—Wonderful Invention of James Watt—
The first Ocean Steamer—Fulton and the Steam Engine—The first Balloon Ascension—
What Franklin said about the Baby—An Inventor’s Mistake—Discovery of the Circulation
of the Blood—What is “Anæsthesia?”—How the First Anodynes were made—How Adam’s
“Rib” was taken from him—All about the Boomerang—Who Discovered the Centre of
Gravity?—The first Rifle—Table-moving and Spirit-rapping in Ancient Times—What is
“Auscultation?”—The Stereoscope—Ancient Prediction of the Discovery of America. 375

Triumphs of Ingenuity.

How the Planet Neptune was Discovered—Le Verrier’s Wonderful Calculation—The Story of
a poor Physician—An Astronomer at Home—How Lescarbault became Famous—The
Discovery of the Planet Vulcan—Ingenious Stratagem of Columbus—How an Eclipse was
made Useful—Story of King John and the Abbot—A Picture of the Olden Time—Clever
Reply to Three Puzzling Questions—The Father Abbot in a Fix. 395

The Fancies of Fact.

The Wounds of Julius Cæsar—Some Curious Old Bills—“Mending the Ten 406
Commandments”—Screwing a Horn on the Devil—Gluing a bit on his Tail—Repairing the
Virgin Mary before and behind—Making a New Child—Why Bishops and Parsons have no
Souls—The Story of a Curious Conversion—Singular Prayer of Lord Ashley—A Moonshine
Story of Sir Walter Scott—Do Lawyers tell the Truth?—Patrick Henry’s Little Chapel—The
True Form of the Cross—How Poets and Painters have led us astray—Curious
Coincidences—How a Bird was Shot with a Stick—How a Musket-shot in the Lungs saved
a Man’s life—Mysterious Tin Box found in a Shark’s Stomach—A Curious Card Trick—
Which was the right Elizabeth Smith?—How Mrs. Stephens’s Patients were Cured—How a
Girl’s Good Memory Caught a Thief—Choosing a Motto for a Sun-dial—Strange Story of a
Murdered Man—The Chick in the Egg—Innate Appetite—The Indian and the Tame Snake
—Why do Alligators Swallow Stones?—Curious Anecdote about Sheep—Celebrated
Journeys on Horseback—A Horse that went to top of St. Peters’ at Rome—A Wonderful
Lock—Wonders of Manufacturing—How Iron can be made More Precious than Gold—The
Spaniard and his Emeralds—How a Cat was sold for Six Hundred Dollars—Another Cat
sold for a Pound of Gold—The amount of Gold in the World—Amount of Treasure collected
by David—How much Gold was found in California—What was brought from Australia—
The Wealth of Ancient Romans—Wine at Two Million dollars a Bottle or $272 per drop—

Who is permitted to drink it—Monster Beer Casks, and who made them—Gigantic Wine-
tuns at Heidelberg and Königstein—A Beer-vat in which Two Hundred People Dined—
Difference between the English Poets—Perils of Precocity—Children who were too
Knowing—What became of 146 Englishmen who were confined in the Black Hole—How
the Finns make Barometers of Stone—Singular Bitterness of Strychnia—Something about
Salt—Curious Change of Taste—The Children of Israel armed with Guns—Simeon with a
pair of “Specs”—Eve in a handsome Flounced Dress—St. Peter and the Tobacco Pipe—
Abraham shooting Isaac with a Blunderbuss—The Marriage of Christ with St. Catherine—
Cigar-lighters at the Last Supper—Shooting Ducks with a Gun in the Garden of Eden—
Wonderful Specimens of Minute Mechanism—Homer in a Nutshell—The Bible in a Walnut
—Squaring the Circle—Mathematical Prodigies—Story of a Wonderful Boy—Babbage’s
Calculating Machine—Extraordinary Feats of Memory—A Bishop’s Heroism—Silent
Compliment.

The Fancies of Fact.—Continued.

The Exact Dimensions of Heaven—The cost of Solomon’s Temple—The Mystic Numbers
“Seven” and “Three”—Curious power of Number Nine—Size of Noah’s Ark and the Great
Eastern—About Colors: their Immense Variety—Vast Aerolites, and what they are—Fate of
America’s Discoverers—Facts about the Presidents—Value of Queen Victoria’s Jewels—An
Army of Women—The Star in the East—Benjamin Franklin’s Court Dress—Extraordinary
instances of Longevity—Do Americans live long?—A man who lived more than 200 years
—“Quack-quack” and “Bow-wow”—A Marriage Vow of the Olden Time—“Buxum in
Bedde and at the Borde”—What came in a dream to Herschel—Singular Facts about Sleep
—Curious Chinese Torture—Do Fishes ever Sleep?—How a Bird Grasps his Perch when
Asleep—How to gain Seven Years and a half of Life—Effects of Opium and Indian Hemp—
Confession of an English Opium-Eater—Strange Effects of Fear—The Thief and the
Feathers—The Poisoned Coachman—How a Man Died of Nothing—What Chas. Bell did
to the Monkey—A Man with Two Faces—Thrilling Story of a “Broken heart”—No Comfort
in being Beheaded—A Man who Spoke after his Head was cut off—A Man who Lived after
Sensation was Destroyed—Comical Antipathies—Afraid of Boiled Lobsters—A Fish and a
Fever—Why Joseph Scaliger couldn’t Drink Milk—The Man who Ran away from a Cat—
About the Cock that Frightened Cæsar—The Two Brothers with One Set of feelings—How
Dennis Hendrick won his Strange Bet—Walking Blindfolded—How to Tell the Time by
Cats’ Eyes—How a Young Woman was Cured by a Ring—The Story told by a Skull—A
Romantic Highway Robber. 435

Singular Customs.

The Coffin on the Table—Queer Mode of Enjoying Oneself—A Beautiful Indian Custom—
Why the People of Carazan Murder their Guests—Danger of Being Handsome—How an
Evil Spirit was Frightened Away—Beefsteaks from a Live Cow—Compliments Paid to a
Bear—How Noses are Made—How Lions are Caught by the Tail—A Picture of High Life
Four Centuries Ago—Why Hairs were put in Ancient Seals—Fining People for not Getting
Married—A Curious Matrimonial Advertisement. 477

Facetiæ.

Odd Titles for a Sham Library—Puns of Tom Hood—The Jests of Hierocles—Curious Letter
of Rothschild’s—Some Singularly Short Letters—A Disappointed Lover—“The Happiest
Dog Alive”—What Happened Between Abernethy and the Lady—Witty Sayings of
Talleyrand—Why Rochester’s Poem was Best—How the Emperor Nicholas was “Sold”—
Difference Between “Old Harry” and “Old Nick”—Comical Story of a very Mean Man—
Instances of Audacious Boasting—Chas. Mathews and the Silver Spoon—How a King
Upset his Inside—Curious Story of Some Relics—What “Topsy’s” Other Name Was—
Minding their P’s and Q’s—Practical Jokes of a Russian Jester. 482

Flashes of Repartee.

Curran and Sir Boyle Roche—Witty Reply of a Fishwoman—Cobden and the American Lady
—Witty Suggestion of Napoleon—Making “Game” of a Lady—The Road that no Peddler
ever Traveled—“A Puppy in his Boots!”—A Quaker’s Queer Suggestion—What the Girl
said to Curran—A Man who had “never been Weaned”—Ready Wit of Theodore Hook
—“Chaff” between Barrow and Rochester—A Windy M. P.—A Clergyman known by his
“Walk”—A Man who “had a Right to Speak”—The “Weak Brother” and Tobacco Pipes—
Beecher Lecturing for F-A-M-E—Admiral Keppel and the He-Goat—Thackeray and the
Beggar-Woman—What Paddy said about “Ayther and Nayther”—Scribe and the French
Millionaire—Voltaire and Haller—Why Paddy “Loved her Still”—Bacon and Hogg—“A
Most Excellent Judge”—Thackeray Snubbed—Christian Cannibalism—How a Barrister’s
Eloquence was Silenced. 495

The Sexes.

Masculine and Feminine Virtues and Vices—Character of the Happy Woman—What Mrs.
Jameson said about Women—Old Ballad in Praise of Women—The Two Sexes Compared—
What John Randolph said in Praise of Matrimony—Wife; Mistress; or Lady?—St. Leon’s
Toast to his Mother. 501

Moslem Wisdom.

The Caliph of Bagdad—Shrewd Decision of a Moslem Judge—A Question of Dinner—How
the Money was Divided—The Wisdom of Ali—The Prophet’s Judgment: Wisdom and
Wealth—Mohammedan Logic—The Foolish Young Man who Fell in Love—Queer Case of
Consequential Damages—Sad Blunder of Omar—A Perplexing Turkish Will—The
Dervise’s Device. 508

Excerpta from Persian Poetry.

Earth an Illusion—Heaven an Echo of Earth—A Moral Atmosphere—Fortune and Worth—
Broken Hearts—To a Generous Man—Beauty’s Prerogative—Proud Humility—Folly for
Oneself—An Impossibility—Sober Drunkenness—A Wine Drinker’s Metaphors—The
Verses of Mirtsa Schaffy—The Unappreciative World—The Caliph and Satan—Curious
Dodge of the Devil. 511

Epigrams.

An Epigram on Epigrams—Midas and Modern Statesmen—“Come Gentle Sleep”—A Man
who Wrote Long Epitaphs—The Fool and the Poet—“Dum Vivimus Vivamus”—Dr.
Johnson and Molly Ashton—A Know-Nothing—Epigram on “Our Bed”—On a Late
Repentance—A Pale Lady with a Red-Nosed Husband—Snowflakes on a Lady’s Breast—To
John Milton—Wesley on Butler—Ridiculous Compliment to Pope—Athol Brose—What is
Eternity—Stolen Sermons—Comical Advice to an Author—A Frugal Queen—Man With a
Thick Skull—Miss Prue and the Kiss—A Ready-Made Angel—The Lover and the Looking-
Glass—A Capricious Friend—A Man who Told “Fibs”—Unlucky End of a Scorpion—The
Lawyer and the Novel—A Woman’s Will—Wellington’s Big Nose—The Miser and his
Money—On Bad Singing—Old Nick and the Fiddle—Foot-man versus Toe-man—“Hot
Corn”—Bonnets of Straw—An “Original Sin” Man—On Writing Verses—Prudent
Simplicity—A Friend in Distress—Hog v. Bacon—A Warm Reception—Taking Medical
Advice—Definition of a Dentist—Dr. Goodenough’s Sermon—What Might Have Been—A
Reflection—The Woman in the Case—How Lawyers are “Keen”—Dux and Drakes—The
Parson’s Eyes—“He Didn’t Mean Her”—Affinity Between Gold and Love—The Crier who
Could not Cry—The Parson and the Butcher—A Hard Case of Strikes—Coats of Male—
The Beaux upon the Quiver—On Burning Widows—Learning Speeches by Heart—A
Golden Webb—The Jawbone of an Ass—Walking on her Head—Marriage à la mode—Quid
Pro Quo—Woman pro and con—Abundance of Fools—The World—“Terminer Sans
Oyer”—Seeing Double. 515

Impromptus.

Dr. Young and his Eve—How Ben Jonson Paid his Bill—What Melville said to Queen
Elizabeth—The “Angel” in the Pew—How Andrew Horner was Cut up—What Hastings
Wrote of Burke—Impromptu of Dr. Johnson—Burlesque of Old Ballads—What was
“Running in a Lady’s Head”—Improvised Rhymes—Like unto Judas—How the Devil got
his Due—The Writing on the Window—“I Thought so Yesterday”—What is Written on the
Gates of Hell—Burns’ “Grace before Meat”. 528

Refractory Rhyming.

Julianna and the Lozenges—Brougham’s Rhyme for Morris—The French Speculator’s
Epitaph—What is a Monogomphe—Rhymes for Month, Chimney, Liquid, Carpet, Window,
Garden, Porringer, Orange, Lemon, Pilgrim, Widow, Timbuctoo, Niagara, Mackonochie—
Rhyme to Gottingen—The Ingoldsby Legends—Punch’s Funny Rhymes—Chapin’s Rhyme
to Brimblecomb—Butler’s Rhyme to Philosopher—A Rhyme to Germany—Hood’s
Nocturnal Sketch. 534

Valentines.

A Strategic Love-Letter—Love-Letter in Invisible Ink—Secret Invitation Concealed in a Love-
Letter—Macaulay’s Essay to Mary C. Stanhope—Love-Verses of Robert Burns—Teutonic
Alliteration—Singular Letter in Three Columns—Love-Letter Written in Blood—A
Valentine in Many Languages—Practical Joke on a Colored Man—Unpublished Verses of
Thomas Moore—An Egyptian Serenade—Petition of Sixteen Maids against the Widows of
South Carolina—Unlucky Petition to Madame de Maintenon. 544

Sonnets.

How the Fourteen Lines were Written—Sonnet on a Fashionable Church—On the Proxy Saint
—About a Nose—On Dyspepsia—Humility—Ave Maria! 551

Conformity of Sense to Sound.

Articulate Imitation of Inarticulate Sounds—Example from Pope—Milton’s “Lycidas”—From
Dyer’s “Ruins of Rome”—Imitations of Time and Motion—“L’Allegro”—Pope’s
“Homer”—Dryden’s “Lucretius”—Milton’s “Il Penseroso”—Fine Examples from Virgil—
Imitations of Difficulty and Ease. 554

Familiar Quotations from Unfamiliar Sources.

“No Cross, no Crown”—“Corporations have no Souls”—“Children of a Larger
Growth”—“Consistency a Jewel”—“Cleanliness next to Godliness”—“He’s a
Brick”—“When at Rome, do as the Romans”—“Taking Time by the Forelock”—“What
will Mrs. Grundy Say?”—“Though Lost to Sight, to Memory Dear”—“Conspicuous by its
Absence”—“Do as I Say, not as I Do”—“Honesty the Best Policy”—“Facts are Stubborn
Things”—“Comparisons are Odious”—“Dark as Pitch”—“Every Tub on its own
Bottom”—Two Pages of Examples, Interesting, Amusing, and Instructive. 556

Churchyard Literature.

Epitaphs of Eminent Men—Appropriate and Rare Inscriptions—Franklin’s Epitaph on
Himself—Touching Memorials of Children—Historical and Biographical Epitaphs—Self-
Written Inscriptions—Advertising Notices—Unique and Ludicrous Epitaphs—Puns in the
Churchyard—Puzzling Inscriptions—Parallels Without a Parallel—Bathos—
Transcendental Epitaph—Acrostical Inscriptions—Indian, African, Hibernian, Greek
Epitaphs—Patchwork Character on a Tombstone—The Printer’s Epitaph—Specimens of
Exceedingly Brief Epitaphs—Highly Laudatory Inscriptions—A Chemical Epitaph—On an
Architect—On an Orator—On a Watchmaker—On a Miserly Money-Lender—On a Tailor
—On a Dancing Master—On an Infidel—On Voltaire—On Hume—On Tom Paine—“Earth
to Earth”—Byron’s Inscription on his Dog. 564

Inscriptions.

Old English Tavern Sign-Boards—Curious Origin of Absurd Signs—“The Magpie and
Crown”—“The Hen and the Razor”—“The Swan-with-two-Necks”—Singular Statement of
Sir Joseph Banks—“The Goat and Compasses”—The “Signs” of Puritan Times—A
Curious “Reformation”—“The Cat and the Fiddle”—“Satan and the Bag of Nails”—
Ancient Signs in Pompeii—The Four Awls and the Grave Morris—The “Queer Door,” and
the “Pig and Whistle”—Heraldic Signs of the Middle Ages—“I have a Cunen Fox, &c.”—
Versified Inscriptions—Cooper and his “Zwei Glasses”—How a Sign Cost a Man his Life
—An Inscription in Four Columns—Beer-Jug Inscriptions—Inscriptions on Window-Panes
—Quaint Description of an Inn in the Olden Time—Curious Inscriptions on Bells—
Baptising and Anointing Bells—The Great Tom of Oxford—Amusing Old Fly-Leaf
Inscriptions—Sun-Dial Inscriptions—Memorial Verses—Francke’s Singular Discovery—
Golden Mottoes—“Posies” from Wedding Rings. 615

Parallel Passages.

Imitations and Plagiarisms of Authors—Curious Coincidences—Examples from Young,
Congreve, Blair, and Shakespeare—Imitations of Otway, Gray, Milton, and Rogers—The
Blindness of Homer and Milton—What Hume said of the Clergy—How Praise Becomes
Satire—Parallel Passages from the English Poets—Singular Examples from Shakespeare—
Shakespeare’s Acquaintance with the Latin Poets—Thoughts Repeated from Age to Age—
Which was the True Original?—Historical Similitudes—What Radbod said with his Legs in
the Water—Why Wulf, the Goth, wouldn’t be Baptised—Why an Indian Refused to go to
Heaven—Curious Choice of a Woman—Last Words of Cardinal Wolsey—Death of Sir
James Hamilton—Solomon’s Judgment Repeated—Why two Women Pulled a Child’s Legs
—How Napoleon Decided Between two Ladies—The Hindoo Legend of the Weasel and the
Babe—The Faithful Dog: a Welsh Ballad—Singular Murder of a Clever Apprentice—
Ballads and Legends—Terrible Story of an old Midwife—What a Clergyman did at
Midnight—How Genevra was Buried Alive—The Ghost which Appeared to Antonio—
Strange Story of a Ring—Death Prophecies—What was done before three Battles—How an
Army of Mice Devoured Bishop Hatto. 640

Prototypes.

The Oldest Proverb on Record—Curious Wish of an Old Lady—Cinderella’s Slipper—How an
Eagle Stole a Shoe, and a King Chose a Wife—Mrs. Caudle’s Curtain Lectures—“The
Charge of the Light Brigade”—Dr. Faustus and the Devil—“Blown up” Cushions—What
the “Poor Cat i’ the Adage” Did—The Lady with Two Cork Legs—The Pope’s Bull against
the Comet—Lincoln “Swapping Horses”—Wooden Nutmegs—Trade Unions Two Centuries
Ago—Consequential Damages—The Babies that Never were Born—The Original Shylock
—Druidical Excommunication—Fall of Napoleon I.—Lanark and Lodore—The Song of the
Bell—Turgot’s Eulogistic Epigraph on Franklin—Origin of the Declaration of
Independence—The Know-Nothings—The first Conception of the Pilgrim’s Progress—Did
Defoe Write Robinson Crusoe?—Talleyrand’s Famous Saying: Whence?—Mistake about
Drinking out of Skulls—Great Literary Plagiarism—Origin of Old Ballads—The Story of
the Wandering Jew. 699

Curious Books.

Old Books with Odd Titles—“Shot Aimed at the Devils Headquarters”—“Crumbs of Comfort
for the Chickens of the Covenant”—“Eggs of Charity Layed by the Chickens of the
Covenant, and Boiled with the Water of Divine Love”—“High-heeled Shoes for Dwarfs in
Holiness”—“Hooks and Eyes for Believers’ Breeches”—“Sixpennyworth of Divine
Spirit”—“Spiritual Mustard Pot”—“Tobacco Battered and Pipes Shattered”—“News from
Heaven”—The Most Curious Book in the World—A Book that was never Written or
Printed, but which can be Read—The Silver Book at Upsal—What is a Bibliognoste?—
What a Bibliographe?—What a Bibliomane?—What a Bibliophile and a Bibliotaphe? 720

Literariana.

The Mystery of the “Letters of Junius”—Who Wrote Them?—What Canning and Macaulay
Thought—A Well-kept Secret—Original MS. of Gray’s Elegy—The Omitted Stanzas—
Imitations—How Pope Corrected his Manuscript—Importance of Punctuation: Comical
Errors—“A Pigeon Making Bread”—How many Nails on a Lady’s Hand—A Comical
Petition in Church—The Soldier who Died for want of a Stop—Indian Heraldry—
Anachronisms of Shakespeare—King Lear’s Spectacles—The Heroines of Shakespeare—
Shakespeare’s Life and Sonnets Compared—Was He Lame?—The Age of Hamlet—Was He
Really Mad?—Additional Verses to “Home, Sweet Home”—The Falsities of History—Two
Views of Napoleon—Clarence and the Butt of Malmsey—True Character of Richard III—
The Name “America” a Fraud—Lexington and the “First Blood Shed”—Eye-Witnesses in
Error—Curious Story of Sir Walter Raleigh—The Difference between Wit and Humor—A
Rhyming Newspaper—Buskin’s Defence of Book-Lovers—Letters and their Endings—
Shrewd Words of Lord Bacon. 723

Literati.

Account of some Famous Linguists—A Man who Knew One Hundred and Eleven Languages
—A Cardinal of Many Tongues—Elihu Burrito, the Learned Blacksmith—Literary Oddities
—Curious Habits of Celebrated Authors—How they have Written their Books—Racine’s
Adventure with the Workmen—Luther in his Study—Calvin Scribbling in Bed—Rousseau,
Le Sage, and Byron at Work—Fontaine, Pascal, Fénélon, and De Quincey—Whence Bacon
Sought Inspiration—Culture and Sacrifice—The Sorrows and Trials of Great Men—Sharon
Turner and the Printers—A Stingy Old Scribbler—Dryden and His Publisher—Jacob
Tonson’s Rascality; how He Tried to Cheat the Poet. 756

Personal Sketches and Anecdotes.

Anecdote of George Washington—What Lafayette said to the King of France—Peculiarities of
the Name Napoleon—How Napoleon Remembered Milton at the Dreadful Battle of
Austerlitz—The Emperor’s Personal Appearance—His Opinion of Suicide—Benjamin
Franklin’s Frugal Wife—Major André and the “Cow-Chase”—An English View of André
and Arnold—How the Astronomer Royal Found an Old Woman’s Clothes—The Boy who
set Fire to an Empty Bottle—Curious Views of Martin Luther—The Hero of the
Reformation—Carlyle’s Translation of Luther’s Hymn—Curious Account of Queen
Elizabeth—What She Said to the Troublesome Priest—What was the Real Color of Her
Hair?—Was Shakespeare a Christian?—Personal Description of Oliver Cromwell—How
Pope’s Skull was Stolen—What Became of Wickliffe’s Ashes—The Folly of Two Astrologers
—Anecdotes of Talleyrand—Parson’s Puzzles. 763

Historical Memoranda.

The First Blood of the Revolution—The “Tea-Party” at Boston—Tea-Burning at Annapolis—
The First American Ships of War—How Quinn Borrowed Twenty Pounds of Shakespeare—
Diabolical Proposition of Cotton Mather—A Rod in Pickle for William Penn—How he
Escaped—An American Monarchy—Origin of the “Star-Spangled Banner”—Origin of the
French Tri-Color—How the Newspapers Changed their Tune—Story of Eugenie’s Flight
from France—Rise and Fall of Napoleon III—“L’Empire c’est la Paix”—Jefferson’s Idea
of Marie Antoinette—Blücher’s Insanity—The Secret of Queen Isabella’s Daughter—Was
Mary Magdalene a Sinner?—The Husband of Mother Goose, and what He Did—History
and Fiction: which true?—Verdicts which Posterity have Reversed—Great Events from
Little Causes—Why Queen Eleanor Quarreled with her Husband—Story of Queen Anne’s
Gloves—How the Flies Helped Forward the Declaration of Independence—The Discovery
of America—Story of Annie Laurie—Who was Robin Adair?—Was Joan of Arc Really
Burnt?—The Mystery of Amy Robsart’s Death—Anecdotes of William Tell—Who Was He?
—“Society” in the Time of Louis XIV—How Cromwell Tricked his Chaplain—The Last
Night of the Girondists—Elizabeth, Essex, and the Ring. 782

Multum in Parvo.

Much Meaning in Little Space—Coleridge and the Beasts—“Boxes” that Govern the World
—“I Cannot Fiddle”—“Like a Potato”—The Vowels in Order—Balzac’s Instance of Self-
Respect—Whom do Mankind Pay Best?—Comical Instance of Wrong Emphasis—“Vive la
Mort!”—Motto for all Seasons—Curious Grace before Meat. 823

Life and Death.

What is Death?—Bishop Heber’s “Voyage of Life”—Curious Poem of Dr. Horne—“The
Round of Life”—Hugh Peters’ Legacy to his Daughter—Franklin’s Moral Code—How to
Divide Time—Living Life over Again—Rhyming Definitions—What is Earth?—Curious
Replies—Rhyming Charter of William the Conquerer—Puzzling Question for the Lawyers
—What Rabbi Joshua Told the Emperor—Dying Words of Distinguished Persons—Last
Prayer of Mary, Queen of Scots—Extraordinary Case of Trance—Curious Question about
Lazarus—Preservation of Dead Bodies—Corpse of a Lady Preserved for Eighty Years—
Bodies of English Kings Undecayed for many Centuries—Three Roman Soldiers Preserved
“Plump and Fresh” for Fifteen Hundred Years—Bodies Converted into Fat—About
Mummies—Wonderful Discovery in an Etruscan Tomb—The Reign of Terror—What
Became of the Bodies of the French Kings—Jewish Tombs in the Valley of Hinnom—A
Whimsical Will—The Tripod of Life—How Many Kinds of Death there Are—Curious Irish
Epitaph—Significance of the Fleur de lis—Death of the First Born—Jean Ingelow’s “Story
of Long Ago”—“This is not Your Rest”—Causes of Ill Success in Life—Futurity—
Longfellow on “The Heart”—An Evening Prayer—Beautiful Thought—Life’s Parting—
Destiny—Sympathy—“After;” Death’s Final Conquest—“There is no Death”—
Euthanasia. 826

Alphabetical Whims.

LIPOGRAMMATA AND PANGRAMMATA.

n No. 59 of the
Spectator, Addison,
descanting on the
different species of
wit, observes, “The
first I shall produce
are the
Lipogrammatists, or
letter droppers of
antiquity, that
would take an
exception, without
any reason, against
some particular
letter in the
alphabet, so as not
to admit it once in a
whole poem. One
Tryphiodorus was a
great master in this
kind of writing. He
composed an
Odyssey, or Epic
Poem, on the
adventures of
Ulysses, consisting
of four-and-twenty-
books, having
entirely banished
the letter A from his
first book, which
was called Alpha, (as lucus a non lucendo,) because there was not an alpha
in it. His second book was inscribed Beta, for the same reason. In short, the

poet excluded the whole four-and-twenty letters in their turns, and showed
them that he could do his business without them. It must have been very
pleasant to have seen this Poet avoiding the reprobate letter as much as
another would a false quantity, and making his escape from it, through the
different Greek dialects, when he was presented with it in any particular
syllable; for the most apt and elegant word in the whole language was
rejected, like a diamond with a flaw in it, if it appeared blemished with the
wrong letter.”
In No. 63, Addison has again introduced Tryphiodorus, in his Vision of the
Region of False Wit, where he sees the phantom of this poet pursued
through the intricacies of a dance by four-and-twenty persons,
(representatives of the alphabet,) who are unable to overtake him.
Addison should, however, have mentioned that Tryphiodorus is kept in
countenance by no less an authority than Pindar, who, according to
Athenæus, wrote an ode from which the letter sigma was carefully
excluded.
This caprice of Tryphiodorus has not been without its imitators. Peter de
Riga, a canon of Rheims, wrote a summary of the Bible in twenty-three
sections, and throughout each section omitted, successively, some particular
letter.
Gordianus Fulgentius, who wrote “De Ætatibus Mundi et Hominis,” has
styled his book a wonderful work, chiefly, it may be presumed, from a
similar reason; as from the chapter on Adam he has excluded the letter A;
from that on Abel, the B; from that on Cain, the C; and so on through
twenty-three chapters.
Gregorio Letti presented a discourse to the Academy of Humorists at Rome,
throughout which he had purposely omitted the letter R, and he entitled it
the exiled R. A friend having requested a copy as a literary curiosity, (for so
he considered this idle performance,) Letti, to show it was not so difficult a
matter, replied by a copious answer of seven pages, in which he observed
the same severe ostracism against the letter R.
Du Chat, in the “Ducatiana,” says “there are five novels in prose, of Lope
de Vega, similarly avoiding the vowels; the first without A, the second

without E, the third without I, the fourth without O, and the fifth without
U.”
The Orientalists are not without this literary folly. A Persian poet read to the
celebrated Jami a ghazel of his own composition, which Jami did not like;
but the writer replied it was, notwithstanding, a very curious sonnet, for the
letter Aliff was not to be found in any of the words! Jami sarcastically
answered, “You can do a better thing yet; take away all the letters from
every word you have written.”
This alphabetical whim has assumed other shapes, sometimes taking the
form of a fondness for a particular letter. In the Ecloga de Calvis of
Hugbald the Monk, all the words begin with a C. In the Nugæ Venales there
is a Poem by Petrus Placentius, entitled Pugna Porcorum, in which every
word begins with a P. In another performance in the same work, entitled
Canum cum cattis certamen, in which “apt alliteration’s artful aid” is
similarly summoned, every word begins with a C.
Lord North, one of the finest gentlemen in the Court of James I., has written
a set of sonnets, each of which begins with a successive letter of the
alphabet. The Earl of Rivers, in the reign of Edward IV., translated the
Moral Proverbs of Christiana of Pisa, a poem of about two hundred lines,
almost all the words of which he contrived to conclude with the letter E.
The Pangrammatists contrive to crowd all the letters of the alphabet into
every single verse. The prophet Ezra may be regarded as the father of them,
as may be seen by reference to ch. vii., v. 21, of his Book of Prophecies.
Ausonius, a Roman poet of the fourth century, whose verses are
characterized by great mechanical ingenuity, is fullest of these fancies.
The following sentence of only 48 letters, contains every letter of the
alphabet:—John P. Brady, give me a black walnut box of quite a small size.
The stanza subjoined is a specimen of both lipogrammatic and
pangrammatic ingenuity, containing every letter of the alphabet except e.
Those who remember that e is the most indispensable letter, being much
more frequently used than any other,[1] will perceive the difficulty of such
composition.

A jovial swain may rack his brain,
And tax his fancy’s might,
To quiz in vain, for ’tis most plain,
That what I say is right.

The Fate of Nassan affords another example, each stanza containing the
entire alphabet except e, and composed, as the writer says, with ease
without e’s.
Bold Nassan quits his caravan,
A hazy mountain-grot to scan;
Climbs jaggy rocks to spy his way,
Doth tax his sight, but far doth stray.

Not work of man, nor sport of child,
Finds Nassan in that mazy wild;
Lax grow his joints, limbs toil in vain—
Poor wight! why didst thou quit that plain?

Vainly for succor Nassan calls.
Know, Zillah, that thy Nassan falls:
But prowling wolf and fox may joy
To quarry on thy Arab boy.

Lord Holland, after reading the five Spanish novels already alluded to, in
1824, composed the following curious example, in which all the vowels
except E are omitted:—

EVE’S LEGEND.

Men were never perfect; yet the three brethren Veres were ever esteemed, respected, revered, even
when the rest, whether the select few, whether the mere herd, were left neglected.
The eldest’s vessels seek the deep, stem the element, get pence; the keen Peter, when free, wedded
Hester Green,—the slender, stern, severe, erect Hester Green. The next, clever Ned, less dependent,
wedded sweet Ellen Heber. Stephen, ere he met the gentle Eve, never felt tenderness: he kept
kennels, bred steeds, rested where the deer fed, went where green trees, where fresh breezes, greeted
sleep. There he met the meek, the gentle Eve: she tended her sheep, she ever neglected self: she never
heeded pelf, yet she heeded the shepherds even less. Nevertheless, her cheek reddened when she met
Stephen; yet decent reserve, meek respect, tempered her speech, even when she shewed tenderness.
Stephen felt the sweet effect: he felt he erred when he fled the sex, yet felt he defenceless when Eve
seemed tender. She, he reflects, never deserved neglect; she never vented spleen; he esteems her
gentleness, her endless deserts; he reverences her steps; he greets her:—
“Tell me whence these meek, these gentle sheep,—whence the yet meeker, the gentler shepherdess?”

“Well bred, we were eke better fed, ere we went where reckless men seek fleeces. There we were
fleeced. Need then rendered me shepherdess, need renders me sempstress. See me tend the sheep; see
me sew the wretched shreds. Eve’s need preserves the steers, preserves the sheep; Eve’s needle
mends her dresses, hems her sheets; Eve feeds the geese; Eve preserves the cheese.”
Her speech melted Stephen, yet he nevertheless esteems, reveres her. He bent the knee where her feet
pressed the green; he blessed, he begged, he pressed her.
“Sweet, sweet Eve, let me wed thee; be led where Hester Green, where Ellen Heber, where the
brethren Vere dwell. Free cheer greets thee there; Ellen’s glees sweeten the refreshment; there severer
Hester’s decent reserve checks heedless jests. Be led there, sweet Eve!”
“Never! we well remember the Seer. We went where he dwells—we entered the cell—we begged the
decree,—
‘Where, whenever, when, ’twere well
Eve be wedded? Eld Seer, tell.’

“He rendered the decree; see here the sentence decreed!” Then she
presented Stephen the Seer’s decree. The verses were these:—
“Ere the green reed be red,
Sweet Eve, be never wed;
Ere be green the red cheek,
Never wed thee, Eve meek.”

The terms perplexed Stephen, yet he jeered the terms; he resented the
senseless credence, “Seers never err.” Then he repented, knelt, wheedled,
wept. Eve sees Stephen kneel; she relents, yet frets when she remembers the
Seer’s decree. Her dress redeems her. These were the events:—
Her well-kempt tresses fell; sedges, reeds, bedecked them. The reeds fell,
the edges met her cheeks; her cheeks bled. She presses the green sedge
where her check bleeds. Red then bedewed the green reed, the green reed
then speckled her red cheek. The red cheek seems green, the green reed
seems red. These were e’en the terms the Eld Seer decreed Stephen Vere.

Here endeth the Legend.

ALPHABETICAL ADVERTISEMENT.

TO WIDOWERS AND SINGLE GENTLEMEN.—WANTED by a lady, a
SITUATION to superintend the household and preside at table. She is
Agreeable, Becoming, Careful, Desirable, English, Facetious, Generous,

Honest, Industrious, Judicious, Keen, Lively, Merry, Natty, Obedient,
Philosophic, Quiet, Regular, Sociable, Tasteful, Useful, Vivacious,
Womanish, Xantippish, Youthful, Zealous, &c. Address X. Y. Z.,
Simmond’s Library, Edgeware-road.—London Times, 1842.

JACOBITE TOAST.

The following remarkable toast is ascribed to Lord Duff, and was presented
on some public occasion in the year 1745.
A. B. C. A Blessed Change.
D. E. F. Down Every Foreigner.
G. H. J. God Help James.
K. L. M. Keep Lord Marr.
N. O. P. Noble Ormond Preserve.
Q. R. S. Quickly Resolve Stewart.
T. U. V. W. Truss Up Vile Whigs.
X. Y. Z. ’Xert Your Zeal.

THE THREE INITIALS.

The following couplet, in which initials are so aptly used, was written on
the alleged intended marriage of the Duke of Wellington, at a very advanced
age, with Miss Angelina Burdett Coutts, the rich heiress:—
The Duke must in his second childhood be,
Since in his doting age he turns to A. B. C.

ENIGMAS.

The letter E is thus enigmatically described:—
The beginning of eternity,
The end of time and space,
The beginning of every end,
The end of every place.

The letter M is concealed in the following Latin enigma by an unknown
author of very ancient date:
Ego sum principium mundi et finis seculorum:
Ego sum trinus et unus, et tamen non sum Deus.

THE LETTER H.

The celebrated enigma on the letter H, commonly attributed to Lord Byron,
[2]
is well known. The following amusing petition is addressed by this letter
to the inhabitants of Kidderminster, England—Protesting:
Whereas by you I have been driven
From ’ouse, from ’ome, from ’ope, from ’eaven,
And placed by your most learned society
In Hexile, Hanguish, and Hanxiety;
Nay, charged without one just pretence,
With Harrogance and Himpudence—
I here demand full restitution,
And beg you’ll mend your Helocution.

Rowland Hill, when at college, was remarkable for the frequent wittiness of
his observations. In a conversation on the powers of the letter H, in which it
was contended that it was no letter, but a simple aspiration or breathing,
Rowland took the opposite side of the question, and insisted on its being, to
all intents and purposes, a letter; and concluded by observing that, if it were
not, it was a very serious affair to him, as it would occasion his being ILL all
the days of his life.
When Kohl, the traveller, visited the Church of St. Alexander Nevskoi, at
St. Petersburg, his guide, pointing to a corner of the building, said, “There
lies a Cannibal.” Attracted to the tomb by this strange announcement, Kohl
found from the inscription that it was the Russian general Hannibal; but as
the Russians have no H,[3] they change the letter into K; and hence the
strange misnomer given to the deceased warrior.
A city knight, who was unable to aspirate the H, on being deputed to give
King William III. an address of welcome, uttered the following equivocal
compliment:—

“Future ages, recording your Majesty’s exploits, will pronounce you to have
been a Nero!”
Mrs. Crawford says she wrote one line in her song, Kathleen Mavourneen,
for the express purpose of confounding the cockney warblers, who sing it
thus:—
The ’orn of the ’unter is ’eard on the ’ill.

Moore has laid the same trap in the Woodpecker:—
A ’eart that is ’umble might ’ope for it ’ere.

And the elephant confounds them the other way:—
A helephant heasily heats at his hease,
Hunder humbrageous humbrella trees.

ON THE MARRIAGE OF A LADY TO A GENTLEMAN NAMED
GEE

Sure, madam, by your choice a taste we see:
What’s good or great or grand without a G?
A godly glow must sure on G depend,
Or oddly low our righteous thoughts must end:
The want of G all gratitude effaces;
And without G, the Graces would run races.

ON SENDING A PAIR OF GLOVES.

From this small token take the letter G,
And then ’tis love, and that I send to thee.

UNIVOCALIC VERSES.

A.—THE RUSSO-TURKISH WAR.

Wars harm all ranks, all arts, all crafts appall:
At Mars’ harsh blast, arch, rampart, altar, fall!
Ah! hard as adamant, a braggart Czar
Arms vassal swarms, and fans a fatal war!
Rampant at that bad call, a Vandal band
Harass, and harm, and ransack Wallach-land.
A Tartar phalanx Balkan’s scarp hath past,
And Allah’s standard falls, alas! at last.

E.—THE FALL OF EVE.

Eve, Eden’s Empress, needs defended be;
The Serpent greets her when she seeks the tree.
Serene, she sees the speckled tempter creep;
Gentle he seems,—perversest schemer deep,—
Yet endless pretexts ever fresh prefers,
Perverts her senses, revels when she errs,
Sneers when she weeps, regrets, repents she fell;
Then, deep revenged, reseeks the nether hell!

I.—THE APPROACH OF EVENING.

Idling, I sit in this mild twilight dim,
Whilst birds, in wild, swift vigils, circling skim.
Light winds in sighing sink, till, rising bright,
Night’s Virgin Pilgrim swims in vivid light!

O.—INCONTROVERTIBLE FACTS.

No monk too good to rob, or cog, or plot.
No fool so gross to bolt Scotch collops hot.
From Donjon tops no Oronoko rolls.
Logwood, not Lotos, floods Oporto’s bowls.
Troops of old tosspots oft, to sot, consort.
Box tops, not bottoms, school-boys flog for sport.
No cool monsoons blow soft on Oxford dons,
Orthodox, jog-trot, book-worm Solomons!
Bold Ostrogoths, of ghosts no horror show.
On London shop-fronts no hop-blossoms grow.
To crocks of gold no dodo looks for food.
On soft cloth footstools no old fox doth brood.
Long storm-tost sloops forlorn, work on to port.
Rooks do not roost on spoons, nor woodcocks snort,
Nor dog on snow-drop or on coltsfoot rolls,
Nor common frogs concoct long protocols.

U.—THE SAME SUBJECT, CONTINUED.

Dull humdrum murmurs lull, but hubbub stuns.
Lucullus snuffs no musk, mundungus shuns.
Puss purrs, buds burst, bucks butt, luck turns up trumps;
But full cups, hurtful, spur up unjust thumps.

A young English lady, on observing a gentleman’s lane newly planted with
lilacs, made this neat impromptu:—
Let lovely lilacs line Lee’s lonely lane.

ALPHABETICAL ALLITERATION.

THE SIEGE OF BELGRADE.

An Austrian army, awfully arrayed,
Boldly, by battery, besieged Belgrade;
Cossack commanders cannonading come—
Dealing destruction’s devastating doom;
Every endeavor, engineers essay,
For fame, for fortune—fighting furious fray:—
Generals ’gainst generals grapple—gracious God!
How honors Heaven, heroic hardihood!
Infuriate,—indiscriminate in ill,
Kindred kill kinsmen,—kinsmen kindred kill!
Labor low levels loftiest longest lines—
Men march ’mid mounds, ’mid moles, ’mid murderous mines:
Now noisy, noxious, noticed nought
Of outward obstacles opposing ought:
Poor patriots, partly purchased, partly pressed:
Quite quaking, quickly quarter, quarter quest,
Reason returns, religious right redounds,
Suwarrow stops such sanguinary sounds.
Truce to thee, Turkey—triumph to thy train!
Unjust, unwise, unmerciful Ukraine!
Vanish vain victory, vanish victory vain!
Why wish ye warfare? Wherefore welcome were
Xerxes, Ximenes, Xanthus, Xaviere?
Yield! ye youths! ye yeomen, yield your yell!
Zeno’s, Zapater’s, Zoroaster’s zeal,
And all attracting—arms against acts appeal.

THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT CELEBRATION.

Americans arrayed and armed attend;
Beside battalions bold, bright beauties blend.
Chiefs, clergy, citizens conglomerate,—
Detesting despots,—daring deeds debate;
Each eye emblazoned ensigns entertain,—
Flourishing from far,—fan freedom’s flame.
Guards greeting guards grown grey,—guest greeting guest.
High-minded heroes, hither, homeward, haste.
Ingenuous juniors join in jubilee,
Kith kenning kin,—kind knowing kindred key.
Lo, lengthened lines lend Liberty liege love,
Mixed masses, marshaled, Monumentward move.
Note noble navies near,—no novel notion,—
Oft our oppressors overawed old Ocean;
Presumptuous princes, pristine patriots paled,
Queens’ quarrel questing quotas, quondam quailed.
Rebellion roused, revolting ramparts rose.
Stout spirits, smiting servile soldiers, strove.
These thrilling themes, to thousands truly told,
Usurpers’ unjust usages unfold.
Victorious vassals, vauntings vainly veiled,
Where, whilesince, Webster, warlike Warren wailed.
’Xcuse ’xpletives ’xtra-queer ’xpressed,
Yielding Yankee yeomen zest.

PRINCE CHARLES PROTECTED BY FLORA MACDONALD.

All ardent acts affright an Age abased
By brutal broils, by braggart bravery braced.
Craft’s cankered courage changed Culloden’s cry;
“Deal deep” deposed “deal death”—“decoy,” “defy:”
Enough. Ere envy enters England’s eyes,
Fancy’s false future fades, for Fortune flies.
Gaunt, gloomy, guarded, grappling giant griefs,
Here, hunted hard, his harassed heart he heaves;
In impious ire incessant ills invests.
Judging Jove’s jealous judgments, jaundiced jests!
Kneel, kirtled knight! keep keener kingcraft known,
Let larger lore life’s levelling lessons loan:
Marauders must meet malefactors’ meeds;
No nation noisy non-conformists needs.
O oracles of old! our orb ordain
Peace’s possession—Plenty’s palmy plain!
Quiet Quixotic quests; quell quarrelling;
Rebuke red riot’s resonant rifle ring.
Slumber seems strangely sweet since silence smote
The threatening thunders throbbing through their throat.
Usurper! under uniform unwont
Vail valor’s vaguest venture, vainest vaunt.
Well wot we which were wise. War’s wildfire won
Ximenes, Xerxes, Xavier, Xenophon:
Yet you, ye yearning youth, your young years yield
Zuinglius’ zealot zest—Zinzendorf zion-zealed.

CACOPHONOUS COUPLET ON CARDINAL WOLSEY.

Begot by butchers, but by bishops bred,
How high his honor holds his haughty head!

ADDRESS TO THE AURORA, WRITTEN IN MID-OCEAN.

Awake Aurora! and across all airs
By brilliant blazon banish boreal bears.
Crossing cold Canope’s celestial crown,
Deep darts descending dive delusive down.
Entranced each eve Europa’s every eye
Firm fixed forever fastens faithfully,
Greets golden guerdon gloriously grand;
How Holy Heaven holds high his hollow hand!
Ignoble ignorance, inapt indeed—
Jeers jestingly just Jupiter’s jereed:
Knavish Kamschatkans, knightly Kurdsmen know,
Long Labrador’s light lustre looming low;
Midst myriad multitudes majestic might
No nature nobler numbers Neptune’s night.
Opal of Oxus or old Ophir’s ores
Pale pyrrhic pyres prismatic purple pours,—
Quiescent quivering, quickly, quaintly queer,
Rich, rosy, regal rays resplendent rear;
Strange shooting streamers streaking starry skies
Trail their triumphant tresses—trembling ties.
Unseen, unhonored Ursa,—underneath
Veiled, vanquished—vainly vying—vanisheth:
Wild Woden, warning, watchful—whispers wan
Xanthitic Xeres, Xerxes, Xenophon,
Yet yielding yesternight yule’s yell yawns
Zenith’s zebraic zigzag, zodiac zones.

Pulci, in his Morgante Maggiore, xxiii. 47, gives the following remarkable
double alliterations, two of them in every line:—
La casa cosa parea bretta e brutta,
Vinta dal vento, e la natta e la notte,
Stilla le stelle, ch’a tetto era tutta,
Del pane appena ne dette ta’ dotte;
Pere avea pure e qualche fratta frutta,
E svina e scena di botto una botte;
Poscia per pesci lasche prese all’esca,
Ma il letto allotta alla frasca fufresca.

In the imitation of Laura Matilda, in the Rejected Addresses occurs this
stanza:—
Pan beheld Patroclus dying,
Nox to Niobe was turned;
From Busiris Bacchus flying,
Saw his Semele inurned.

TITLE-PAGE FOR A BOOK OF EXTRACTS FROM MANY
AUTHORS.
Astonishing Anthology from Attractive Authors.
Broken Bits from Bulky Brains.
Choice Chunks from Chaucer to Channing.
Dainty Devices from Diverse Directions.
Echoes of Eloquence from Eminent Essayists.
Fragrant Flowers from Fields of Fancy.
Gems of Genius Gloriously Garnished.
Handy Helps from Head and Heart.
Illustrious Intellects Intelligently Interpreted.
Jewels of Judgment and Jets of Jocularity.
Kindlings to Keep from the King to the Kitchen.
Loosened Leaves from Literary Laurels.
Magnificent Morsels from Mighty Minds.
Numerous Nuggets from Notable Noodles.
Oracular Opinions Officiously Offered.
Prodigious Points from Powerful Pens.
Quirks and Quibbles from Queer Quarters.
Rare Remarks Ridiculously Repeated.
Suggestive Squibs from Sundry Sources.
Tremendous Thoughts on Thundering Topics.
Utterances from Uppermost for Use and Unction.
Valuable Views in Various Voices.
Wisps of Wit in a Wilderness of Words.
Xcellent Xtracts Xactly Xpressed.
Yawnings and Yearnings for Youthful Yankees.
Zeal and Zest from Zoroaster to Zimmerman.

COMPLIMENTARY CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING CHESS.

Cherished chess! The charms of thy checkered chambers chain me changelessly. Chaplains have
chanted thy charming choiceness; chieftains have changed the chariot and the chase for the chaster
chivalry of the chess-board, and the cheerier charge of the chess-knights. Chaste-eyed Caissa! For
thee are the chaplets of chainless charity and the chalice of childlike cheerfulness. No chilling churl,
no cheating chafferer, no chattering changeling, no chanting charlatan can be thy champion; the
chivalrous, the charitable, and the cheerful are the chosen ones thou cherishest. Chance cannot
change thee: from the cradle of childhood to the charnel-house, from our first childish chirpings to
the chills of the churchyard, thou art our cheery, changeless chieftainess. Chastener of the churlish,
chider of the changeable, cherisher of the chagrined, the chapter of thy chiliad of charms should be
chanted in cherubic chimes by choicest choristers, and chiselled on chalcedon in cherubic
chirography.

Hood, in describing the sensations of a dramatist awaiting his debut, thus
uses the letter F in his Ode to Perry:—

All Fume and Fret,
Fuss, Fidget, Fancy, Fever, Funking, Fright,
Ferment, Fault-fearing, Faintness—more F’s yet:
Flushed, Frigid, Flurried, Flinching, Fitful, Flat,
Add Famished, Fuddled, and Fatigued to that;
Funeral, Fate-Foreboding.

The repetition of the same letter in the following is very ingenious:—

FELICITOUS FLIGHT OF FANCY.

“A famous fish-factor found himself father of five flirting females—Fanny, Florence, Fernanda,
Francesca, and Fenella. The first four were flat-featured, ill-favored, forbidding-faced, freckled
frumps, fretful, flippant, foolish, and flaunting. Fenella was a fine-featured, fresh, fleet-footed fairy,
frank, free, and full of fun. The fisher failed, and was forced by fickle fortune to forego his footman,
forfeit his forefathers’ fine fields, and find a forlorn farm-house in a forsaken forest. The four fretful
females, fond of figuring at feasts in feathers and fashionable finery, fumed at their fugitive father.
Forsaken by fulsome, flattering fortune-hunters, who followed them when first they flourished,
Fenella fondled her father, flavored their food, forgot her flattering followers, and frolicked in a
frieze without flounces. The father, finding himself forced to forage in foreign parts for a fortune,
found he could afford a faring to his five fondlings. The first four were fain to foster their frivolity
with fine frills and fans, fit to finish their father’s finances; Fenella, fearful of flooring him, formed a
fancy for a full fresh flower. Fate favored the fish-factor for a few days, when he fell in with a fog;
his faithful Filley’s footsteps faltered, and food failed. He found himself in front of a fortified
fortress. Finding it forsaken, and feeling himself feeble, and forlorn with fasting, he fed on the fish,
flesh, and fowl he found, fricasseed, and when full fell flat on the floor. Fresh in the forenoon, he
forthwith flew to the fruitful fields, and not forgetting Fenella, he filched a fair flower; when a foul,
frightful, fiendish figure flashed forth: ‘Felonious fellow, fingering my flowers, I’ll finish you! Fly;
say farewell to your fine felicitous family, and face me in a fortnight!’ The faint-hearted fisher fumed
and faltered, and fast and far was his flight. His five daughters flew to fall at his feet and fervently
felicitate him. Frantically and fluently he unfolded his fate. Fenella, forthwith fortified by filial
fondness, followed her father’s footsteps, and flung her faultless form at the foot of the frightful
figure, who forgave the father, and fell flat on his face, for he had fervently fallen in a fiery fit of love
for the fair Fenella. He feasted her till, fascinated by his faithfulness, she forgot the ferocity of his
face, form, and features, and frankly and fondly fixed Friday, fifth of February, for the affair to come
off. There was festivity, fragrance, finery, fireworks, fricasseed frogs, fritters, fish, flesh, fowl, and
frumentry, frontignac, flip, and fare fit for the fastidious; fruit, fuss, flambeaux, four fat fiddlers and
fifers; and the frightful form of the fortunate and frumpish fiend fell from him, and he fell at
Fenella’s feet a fair-favored, fine, frank, freeman of the forest. Behold the fruits of filial affection.”

A BEVY OF BELLES.

The following lines are said to have been admirably descriptive of the five
daughters of an English gentleman, formerly of Liverpool;—

Minerva-like majestic Mary moves.
Law, Latin, Liberty, learned Lucy loves.
Eliza’s elegance each eye espies.
Serenely silent Susan’s smiles surprise.
From fops, fools, flattery, fairest Fanny flies.

MOTIVES TO GRATITUDE.

A remarkable example of the old fondness for antithesis and alliteration in
composition, is presented in the following extract from one of Watts’
sermons:—
The last great help to thankfulness is to compare various circumstances and things together.
Compare, then, your sorrows with your sins; compare your mercies with your merits; compare your
comforts with your calamities; compare your own troubles with the troubles of others; compare your
sufferings with the sufferings of Christ Jesus, your Lord; compare the pain of your afflictions with
the profit of them; compare your chastisements on earth with condemnation in hell; compare the
present hardships you bear with the happiness you expect hereafter, and try whether all these will not
awaken thankfulness.

ACROSTICS.

The acrostic, though an old and favorite form of verse, in our own language
has been almost wholly an exercise of ingenuity, and has been considered
fit only for trivial subjects, to be classed among nugæ literariæ. The word
in its derivation includes various artificial arrangements of lines, and many
fantastic conceits have been indulged in. Generally the acrostic has been
formed of the first letters of each line; sometimes of the last; sometimes of
both; sometimes it is to be read downward, sometimes upward. An
ingenious variety called the Telestich, is that in which the letters beginning
the lines spell a word, while the letters ending the lines, when taken
together, form a word of an opposite meaning, as in this instance:—
U nite and untie are the same—so say yo U.
N ot in wedlock, I ween, has this unity bee N.
I n the drama of marriage each wandering gou T
T o a new face would fly—all except you and I—
E ach seeking to alter the spell in their scen E.

In these lines, on the death of Lord Hatherton, (1863), the initial and final
letters are doubled:—
H ard was his final fight with ghastly Deat h,
H e bravely yielded his expiring breat h.
A s in the Senate fighting freedom’s ple a,
A nd boundless in his wisdom as the se a.
T he public welfare seeking to direc t,
T he weak and undefended to protec t.
H is steady course in noble life from birt h,
H as shown his public and his private wort h.
E vincing mind both lofty and sedat e,
E ndowments great and fitted for the Stat e,
R eceiving high and low with open doo r,
R ich in his bounty to the rude and poo r.
T he crown reposed in him the highest trus t,
T o show the world that he was wise and jus t.
O n his ancestral banners long ag o,
O urs willingly relied, and will do s o.

N or yet extinct is noble Hatherto n,
N ow still he lives in gracious Littleto n.

Although the fanciful and trifling tricks of poetasters have been carried to
excess, and acrostics have come in for their share of satire, the origin of
such artificial poetry was of a higher dignity. When written documents,
were yet rare, every artifice was employed to enforce on the attention or fix
on the memory the verses sung by bards or teachers. Alphabetic
associations formed obvious and convenient aids for this purpose. In the
Hebrew Psalms of David, and in other parts of Scripture, striking specimens
occur. The peculiarity is not retained in the translations, but is indicated in
the common version of the 119th Psalm by the initial letters prefixed to its
divisions. The Greek Anthology also presents examples of acrostics, and
they were often used in the old Latin language. Cicero, in his treatise “De
Divinatione,” has this remarkable passage:—“The verses of the Sybils (said
he) are distinguished by that arrangement which the Greeks call Acrostic;
where, from the first letters of each verse in order, words are formed which
express some particular meaning; as is the case with some of Ennius’s
verses, the initial letters of which make ‘which Ennius wrote!’”
Among the modern examples of acrostic writing, the most remarkable may
be found in the works of Boccaccio. It is a poem of fifty cantos, of which
Guinguenè has preserved a specimen in his Literary History of Italy.
A successful attempt has recently been made to use this form of verse for
conveying useful information and expressing agreeable reflections, in a
volume containing a series of acrostics on eminent names, commencing
with Homer, and descending chronologically to our own time. The
alphabetic necessity of the choice of words and epithets has not hindered
the writer from giving distinct and generally correct character to the
biographical subjects, as may be seen in the following selections, which are
as remarkable for the truth and discrimination of the descriptions as for the
ingenuity of the diction:

GEORGE HERBERT.

G ood Country Parson, cheerful, quaint,
E ver in thy life a saint,
O ’er thy memory sweetly rise
R are old Izaak’s eulogies,
G iving us, in life-drawn hue,
E ach loved feature to our view.

H oly Herbert, humble, mild,
E ’en as simple as a child,
R eady thy bounty to dispense,
B eaming with benevolence,
E ver blessing, ever blest,
R escuing the most distrest;
T hy “Temple” now is Heaven’s bright rest.

DRYDEN.

D eep rolls on deep in thy majestic line.
R ich music and the stateliest march combine;
Y et, who that hears its high harmonious strain
D eems not thy genius thou didst half profane?
E xhausting thy great power of song on themes
N ot worthy of its strong, effulgent beams.

REYNOLDS.

R are Painter! whose unequall’d skill could trace
E ach light and shadow of the changeful face;
Y oung “Samuel’s,” now, beaming with piety,
N ow the proud “Banished Lord’s” dark misery,
O r “Ugolino’s” ghastly visage, wild,
L ooking stern horror on each starving child;
D elights not less of social sort were thine,
S uch as with Burke, or e’en with Johnson shine.

BURKE.

B rilliant thy genius ’mongst a brilliant throng;
U nique thy eloquence of pen and tongue;
R ome’s Tully loftier flights could scarce command,
K indling thy soul to thoughts that matchless stand
E ver sublime and beautiful and grand.

HUBER.

H ow keen thy vision, e’en though reft of sight!
U sing with double power the mind’s clear light:
B ees, and their hives, thy curious ken has scanned.
E ach cell, with geometric wisdom planned,
R ich stores of honeyed knowledge thus at thy command.

CRABBE.

C opyist of Nature—simply, sternly true,—
R eal the scenes that in thy page we view.
“A mid the huts where poor men lie” unknown,
B right humor or deep pathos thou hast thrown.
B ard of the “Borough” and the “Village,” see—
E ’en haughty Byron owns he’s charm’d by thee.

WALTER SCOTT.

W ondrous Wizard of the North,
A rmed with spells of potent worth!
L ike to that greatest Bard of ours
T he mighty magic of thy powers:
E ’en thy bright fancy’s offspring find
R esemblance to his myriad mind.

S uch the creations that we see—
C haracter, manners, life in thee—
O f Scotia’s deeds, a proud display,
T he glories of a bygone day;
T hy genius foremost stands in all her long array.

WORDSWORTH.

W andering, through many a year, ’mongst Cumbria’s hills,
O ’er her wild fells, sweet vales, and sunny lakes,
R ich stores of thought thy musing mind distils,
D ay-dreams of poesy thy soul awakes:—
S uch was thy life—a poet’s life, I ween;
W orshipper thou of Nature! every scene
O f beauty stirred thy fancy’s deeper mood,
R eflection calmed the current of thy blood:
T hus in the wide “Excursion” of thy mind,
H igh thoughts in words of worth we still may find.

IRVING.

I n easy, natural, graceful charm of style,
R esembling Goldy’s “Vicar,”—free from guile:
V ein of rich humor through thy “Sketch-Book” flows.
I magination her bright colors shows.
N o equal hast thou ’mongst thy brother band,
G enial thy soul, worthy our own loved land.

MACREADY.

M aster Tragedian! worthy all our praise.
A ction and utterance such as bygone days
C ould oftener boast, were thine. Need we but name
R oman Virginius? while our Shakspeare’s fame
E ver ’twas thy chief joy and pride to uprear,
A nd give us back Macbeth, Othello, Lear.
D elight to thousands oft thou gav’st, and now
Y ears of calm lettered ease ’tis thine to know.

LONGFELLOW.

L ays like thine have many a charm;
O ft thy themes the heart must warm.
N ow o’er Slavery’s guilt and woes,
G rief and shame’s deep hues it throws;
F ar up Alpine heights is heard
“E xcelsior,” now the stirring word;
“L ife’s Psalm,” now, onward is inviting,
L ongings for nobler deeds exciting;
O ’er Britain now resounds thy name,
W hile States unborn shall swell thy fame.

SOUTHEY.

S erenely bright thy life’s pure stream did glide,
O n sweet romantic Derwentwater’s side.
U nder great Skiddaw—there, in Epic lays,
T hou dream’dst a poet’s dreams of olden days,
H ow Madoc wandered o’er the Atlantic wave,
E astern Kehama, Roderic the brave,
Y ears cannot from our fondest memory lave.

MACAULAY.

M asterly critic! in whose brilliant style
A nd rich historic coloring breathes again—
C lothed in most picturesque costume the while—
A ll the dim past, with all its bustling train.
U nder this vivid, eloquent painting, see
L ife given anew to our old history’s page;
A nd in thy stirring ballad poetry,
Y outh’s dreams of ancient Rome once more our minds engage.

OLIVER’S IMPROMPTU.

Oliver, a sailor and patriot, with a merited reputation for extempore
rhyming, while on a visit to his cousin Benedict Arnold, after the war, was
asked by the latter to amuse a party of English officers with some
extemporaneous effusion, whereupon he stood up and repeated the

following Ernulphus curse, which would have satisfied Dr. Slop[4] himself:
—
B orn for a curse to virtue and mankind,
E arth’s broadest realm ne’er knew so black a mind.
N ight’s sable veil your crimes can never hide,
E ach one so great, ’twould glut historic tide.
D efunct, your cursed memory will live
I n all the glare that infamy can give.
C urses of ages will attend your name,
T raitors alone will glory in your shame.

A lmighty vengeance sternly waits to roll
R ivers of sulphur on your treacherous soul:
N ature looks shuddering back with conscious dread
O n such a tarnished blot as she has made.
L et hell receive you, riveted in chains,
D oomed to the hottest focus of its flames.

ALLITERATIVE ACROSTIC.

The following alliterative acrostic is a gem in its way. Miss Kitty Stephens
was the celebrated London vocalist, and is now the Dowager Countess of
Essex:—
S he sings so soft, so sweet, so soothing still
T hat to the tone ten thousand thoughts there thrill;
E lysian ecstasies enchant each ear—
P leasure’s pure pinions poise—prince, peasant, peer,
H ushing high hymns, Heaven hears her harmony,—
E arth’s envy ends; enthralled each ear, each eye;
N umbers need ninefold nerve, or nearly name,
S oul-stirring Stephens’ skill, sure seraphs sing the same.

CHRONOGRAMMATIC PASQUINADE.

On the election of Pope Leo X., in 1440, the following satirical acrostic
appeared, to mark the date
M C C C C X L.

Multi Cœci Cardinales Creaverunt Cœcum Decimum (X) Leonem.

MONASTIC VERSE.

The merit of this fine specimen will be found in its being at the same time
acrostic, mesostic, and telestic.
Inter cuncta micans Igniti sidera cœlI
Expellit tenebras E toto Phœbus ut orbE;
Sic cæcas removet JESUS caliginis umbraS,
Vivificansque simul Vero præcordia motV,
Solem justitiæ Sese probat esse beatiS.

The following translation preserves the acrostic and mesostic, though not
the telestic form of the original:—
In glory see the rising sun, Illustrious orb of day,
Enlightening heaven’s wide expanse, Expel night’s gloom away.
So light into the darkest soul, JESUS, Thou dost impart,
Uplifting Thy life-giving smiles Upon the deadened heart:
Sun Thou of Righteousness Divine, Sole King of Saints Thou art.

The figure of a FISH carved on many of the monuments in the Roman
Catacombs, is an emblematic acrostic, intended formerly to point out the
burial-place of a Christian, without revealing the fact to the pagan
persecutors. The Greek word for fish is Ιχθῦς, which the Christians
understood to mean Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Saviour,—the letters
forming the initials of the following Greek words:—
Ιησους Jesus

Χριστος Christ,

Θεου of God,

Υιος Son,

Σωτηρ Saviour.

NAPOLEON FAMILY.

The names of the male crowned heads of the extinct Napoleon dynasty
form a remarkable acrostic:—
N apoleon, Emperor of the French.
I oseph, King of Spain.
H ieronymus, King of Westphalia.
I oachim, King of Naples.
L ouis, King of Holland.

RACHEL.

Rachel, on one occasion, received a most remarkable present. It was a
diadem, in antique style, adorned with six jewels. The stones were so set as
to spell, in acrostic style, the name of the great artiste, and also to signify
six of her principal rôles, thus:
R uby, R oxana,
A methyst, A menaide,
C ornelian, C amille,
H ematite, H ermione,
E merald, E milie,
L apis Lazuli, L aodice.

This mode of constructing a name or motto by the initial letters of gems
was formerly fashionable on wedding rings.

MASONIC MEMENTO.

The following curious memento was written in the early part of last
century:—

M—Magnitude, Moderation, Magnanimity.
A—Affability, Affection, Attention.
S—Silence, Secrecy, Security.
O—Obedience, Order, Œconomy.
N—Noble, Natural, Neighborly.
R—Rational, Reciprocative, Receptive.
Y—Yielding, Ypight (fixed), Yare (ready).

Which is explained thus:—
Masonry, of things, teaches how to attain their just Magnitude.
To inordinate affections the art of Moderation.
It inspires the soul with true Magnanimity.
It also teaches us Affability.
To love each other with true Affection.
And to pay to things sacred a just Attention.
It instructs us how to keep Silence,
To maintain Secrecy,
And preserve Security;
Also, to whom it is due, Obedience,
To observe good Order,
And a commendable Œconomy.
It likewise teaches us how to be worthily Noble,
Truly Natural,
And without reserve Neighborly.
It instils principles indisputably Rational,
And forms in us a disposition Reciprocative,
And Receptive.
It makes us, to things indifferent, Yielding,
To what is absolutely necessary, perfectly Ypight,
And to do all that is truly good, most willingly Yare.

HEMPE.

Bacon says, “The trivial prophecy which I heard when I was a child and
Queen Elizabeth was in the flower of her years was—
When Hempe is spun
England’s done;

whereby it was generally conceived that after the sovereigns had reigned
which had the letters of that word HEMPE, (which were Henry, Edward,
Mary, Philip, Elizabeth,) England should come to utter confusion; which,
thanks be to God, is verified in the change of the name, for that the King’s
style is now no more of England, but of Britain.”

THE BREVITY OF HUMAN LIFE.

Behold, alas! our days we spend:
How vain they be, how soon they end!
BEHOLD
How short a span
Was long enough of old
To measure out the life of man;
In those well-tempered days his time was then
Surveyed, cast up, and found but threescore years and ten.
ALAS!
What is all that?
They come and slide and pass
Before my tongue can tell thee what.
The posts of time are swift, which having run
Their seven short stages o’er, their short-lived task is done.
OUR DAYS
Begun, we bend
To sleep, to antic plays
And toys, until the first stage end;
12 waning moons, twice 5 times told, we give
To unrecovered loss: we rather breathe than live.
WE SPEND
A ten years’ breath
Before we apprehend
What ’tis to live in fear of death;
Our childish dreams are filled with painted joys
Which please our sense, and waking prove but toys.
HOW VAIN,
How wretched is
Poor man, that doth remain
A slave to such a state as this!
His days are short at longest; few at most;
They are but bad at best, yet lavished out, or lost.
THEY BE
The secret springs
That make our minutes flee
On wings more swift than eagles’ wings!
Our life’s a clock, and every gasp of breath
Breathes forth a warning grief, till time shall strike a death.

HOW SOON
Our new-born light
Attains to full-aged noon!
And this, how soon to gray-haired night;
We spring, we bud, we blossom, and we blast,
Ere we can count our days, our days they flee so fast.
THEY END
When scarce begun,
And ere we apprehend
That we begin to live, our life is done.
Man, count thy days; and if they fly too fast
For thy dull thoughts to count, count every day the last.

A VALENTINE.

The reader, by taking the first letter of the first of the following lines, the
second letter of the second line, the third of the third, and so on to the end,
can spell the name of the lady to whom they were addressed by Edgar A.
Poe.
For her this rhyme is penned whose luminous eyes,
BRightly expressive as the twins of Lœda,
ShAll find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
UpoN the page, enwrapped from every reader.
SearCh narrowly the lines!—they hold a treasure
DivinE—a talisman—an amulet
That muSt be worn at heart. Search well the measure—
The wordS—the syllables! Do not forget
The triviAlest point, or you may lose your labor!
And yet theRe is in this no Gordian knot
Which one miGht not undo without a sabre,
If one could mErely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upoN the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillaTing soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent wOrds, oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets—aS the name’s a poet’s, too.
Its letters, althouGh naturally lying
Like the knight PintO—Mendez Ferdinando—
Still form a synonym fOr Truth. Cease trying!
You will not read the riDdle, though you do the best you can do.

ANAGRAMS.
But with still more disordered march advance
(Nor march it seemed, but wild fantastic dance)
The uncouth Anagrams, distorted train,
Shifting in double mazes o’er the plain.—Scribleriad.

Camden, in a chapter in his Remains, on this frivolous and now almost
obsolete intellectual exercise, defines Anagrams to be a dissolution of a
name into its letters, as its elements; and a new connection into words is
formed by their transposition, if possible, without addition, subtraction, or
change of the letters: and the words should make a sentence applicable to
the person or thing named. The anagram is complimentary or satirical; it
may contain some allusion to an event, or describe some personal
characteristic. Thus, Sir Thomas Wiat bore his own designation in his name:
—
Wiat—A Wit.

Astronomer may be made Moon-starer, and Telegraph, Great Help. Funeral
may be converted into Real Fun, and Presbyterian may be made Best in
prayer. In stone may be found tones, notes, or seton; and (taking j and v as
duplicates of i and u) the letters of the alphabet may be arranged so as to
form the words back, frown’d, phlegm, quiz, and Styx. Roma may be
transposed into amor, armo, Maro, mora, oram, or ramo. The following
epigram occurs in a book printed in 1660:
Hate and debate Rome through the world has spread;
Yet Roma amor is, if backward read:
Then is it strange Rome hate should foster? No;
For out of backward love all hate doth grow.

It is said that the cabalists among the Jews were professed anagrammatists,
the third part of their art called themuru (changing) being nothing more than
finding the hidden and mystical meaning in names, by transposing and
differently combining the letters of those names. Thus, of the letters of
Noah’s name in Hebrew, they made grace; and of the Messiah they made he
shall rejoice.

Lycophron, a Greek writer who lived three centuries before the Christian
era, records two anagrams in his poem on the siege of Troy entitled
Cassandra. One is on the name of Ptolemy Philadelphus, in whose reign
Lycophron lived:—
ΠΤΟΛΕΜΑΙΣ ΑΠΟ ΜΕΛΙΤΟΣ—Made of honey.

The other is on Ptolemy’s queen, Arsinoë:—
ΑΡΣΙΝΟΕ. ΕΡΑΣ ΙΟΝ—Juno’s violet.

Eustachius informs us that this practice was common among the Greeks,
and gives numerous examples; such, for instance, as the transposition of the
word Αρετη, virtue, into Ερατη, lovely.
Owen, the Welsh epigrammatist, sometimes called the British Martial, lived
in the golden age of anagrammatism. The following are fair specimens of
his ingenuity:—

Galenus—Angelus.

Angelus es bonus anne malus; Galene! salutis
Humana custos, angelus ergo bonus,

De Fide—Anagramma quincuplex.

Recta fides, certa est, arcet mala schismata, non est,
Sicut Creta, fides fictilis, arte caret.

Brevitas—Anagramma triplex.

Perspicua brevitate nihil magis afficit aures
In verbis, ubi res postulat, esto brevis.

In a New Help to Discourse, 12mo, London, 1684, occurs an anagram with
a very quaint epigrammatic “exposition:”—

TOAST—A SOTT.

A toast is like a sot; or, what is most
Comparative, a sot is like a toast;
For when their substances in liquor sink,
Both properly are said to be in drink.

Cotton Mather was once described as distinguished for—
“Care to guide his flock and feed his lambs
By words, works, prayers, psalms, alms, and anagrams.”

Sylvester, in dedicating to his sovereign his translation of Du Bartas, rings
the following loyal change on the name of his liege:—
James Stuart—A just master.

Of the poet Waller, the old anagrammatist said:—
His brows need not with Lawrel to be bound,
Since in his name with Lawrel he is crowned.

The author of an extraordinary work on heraldry was thus expressively
complimented:—
Randle Holmes.
Lo, Men’s Herald!

The following on the name of the mistress of Charles IX. of France is
historically true:—
Marie Touchet,
Je charme tout.

In the assassin of Henry III.,
Frère Jacques Clement,

they discovered
C’est l’enfer qui m’a crée.

The French appear to have practised this art with peculiar facility. A French
poet, deeply in love, in one day sent his mistress, whose name was

Magdelaine, three dozen of anagrams on her single name.
The father Pierre de St. Louis became a Carmelite monk on discovering that
his lay name—
Ludovicus Bartelemi—

yielded the anagram—
Carmelo se devovet.

Of all the extravagances occasioned by the anagrammatic fever when at its
height, none equals what is recorded of an infatuated Frenchman in the
seventeenth century, named André Pujom, who, finding in his name the
anagram Pendu à Riom, (the seat of criminal justice in the province of
Auvergne,) felt impelled to fulfill his destiny, committed a capital offence in
Auvergne, and was actually hung in the place to which the omen pointed.
The anagram on General Monk, afterwards Duke of Albemarle, on the
restoration of Charles II., is also a chronogram, including the date of that
important event:—
Georgius Monke, Dux de Aumarle,
Ego Regem reduxi Ano. Sa. MDCLVV.

The mildness of the government of Elizabeth, contrasted with her
intrepidity against the Iberians, is thus picked out of her title: she is made
the English lamb and the Spanish lioness.
Elizabetha Regina Angliæ,
Anglis Agna, Hiberiæ Lea.

The unhappy history of Mary Queen of Scots, the deprivation of her
kingdom, and her violent death, are expressed in the following Latin
anagram:—
Maria Steuarda Scotorum Regina.
Trusa vi Regnis, morte amara cado.

In Taylor’s Suddaine Turne of Fortune’s Wheele, occurs the following very
singular example:—

But, holie father, I am certifyed
That they your power and policye deride;
And how of you they make an anagram,
The best and bitterest that the wits could frame.

As thus:

Supremus Pontifex Romanus.

Annagramma:

O non sum super petrum fixus.

The anagram on the well-known bibliographer, William Oldys, may claim a
place among the first productions of this class. It was by Oldys himself, and
was found by his executors among his MSS.
In word and WILL I AM a friend to you;
And one friend OLD is worth a hundred new.

The following anagram, preserved in the files of the First Church in
Roxbury, was sent to Thomas Dudley, a governor and major-general of the
colony of Massachusetts, in 1645. He died in 1653, aged 77.

THOMAS DUDLEY.

Ah! old must dye.
A death’s head on your hand you neede not weare,
A dying head you on your shoulders beare.
You need not one to mind you, you must dye,
You in your name may spell mortalitye.
Younge men may dye, but old men, these dye must;
’Twill not be long before you turne to dust.
Before you turne to dust! ah! must! old! dye!
What shall younge doe when old in dust doe lye?
When old in dust lye, what N. England doe?
When old in dust doe lye, it’s best dye too.

In an Elegy written by Rev. John Cotton on the death of John Alden, a
magistrate of the old Plymouth Colony, who died in 1687, the following
phonetic anagram occurs:—
John Alden—End al on hi.

The Calvinistic opponents of Arminius made of his name a not very
creditable Latin anagram:—
Jacobus Arminius,
Vani orbis amicus;
(The friend of a false world.)

while his friends, taking advantage of the Dutch mode of writing it,
Harminius, hurled back the conclusive argument,
Habui curam Sionis.
(I have had charge of Zion.)

Perhaps the most extraordinary anagram to be met with, is that on the Latin
of Pilate’s question to the Saviour, “What is truth?”—St. John, xviii. 38.
Quid est veritas?
Est vir qui adest.
(It is the man who is before you.)

Live, vile, and evil, have the self-same letters;
He lives but vile, whom evil holds in fetters.

If you transpose what ladies wear—Veil,
’Twill plainly show what bad folks are—Vile.
Again if you transpose the same,
You’ll see an ancient Hebrew name—Levi.
Change it again, and it will show
What all on earth desire to do—Live.
Transpose the letters yet once more,
What bad men do you’ll then explore—Evil.

PERSIST.

A lady, being asked by a gentleman to join in the bonds of matrimony with
him, wrote the word “Stripes,” stating at the time that the letters making up
the word stripes could be changed so as to make an answer to his question.
The result proved satisfactory.
When I cry that I sin is transposed, it is clear,
My resource Christianity soon will appear.

The two which follow are peculiarly appropriate:—

Florence Nightingale,
Flit on, charming angel.

John Abernethy,
Johnny the bear.

TIME
ITEM
METI
EMIT

This word, Time, is the only word in the English language which can be
thus arranged, and the different transpositions thereof are all at the same
time Latin words. These words, in English as well as in Latin, may be read
either upward or downward. Their signification as Latin words is as
follows:—Time—fear thou; Item—likewise; Meti—to be measured; Emit
—he buys.
Some striking German and Latin anagrams have been made of Luther’s
name, of which the following are specimens. Doctor Martinus Lutherus
transposed, gives O Rom, Luther ist der schwan. In D. Martinus Lutherus
may be found ut turris das lumen (like a tower you give light). In Martinus
Lutherus we have vir multa struens (the man who builds up much), and ter
matris vulnus (he gave three wounds to the mother church). Martin Luther
will make lehrt in Armuth (he teaches in poverty).
Jablonski welcomed the visit of Stanislaus, King of Poland, with his noble
relatives of the house of Lescinski, to the annual examination of the
students under his care, at the gymnasium of Lissa, with a number of
anagrams, all composed of the letters in the words Domus Lescinia. The
recitations closed with a heroic dance, in which each youth carried a shield
inscribed with a legend of the letters. After a new evolution, the boys
exhibited the words Ades incolumis; next, Omnis es lucida; next, Omne sis
lucida; fifthly, Mane sidus loci; sixthly, Sis columna Dei; and at the
conclusion, I scande solium.

A TELEGRAM ANAGRAMMATISED.

Though but a late germ, with a wondrous elation,
Yet like a great elm it o’ershadows each station.
Et malgré the office is still a large fee mart,
So joyous the crowd was, you’d thought it a glee mart;
But they raged at no news from the nation’s belligerent,
And I said let’m rage, since the air is refrigerant.
I then met large numbers, whose drink was not sherbet,
Who scarce could look up when their eyes the gas-glare met;
So when I had learned from commercial adviser
That mere galt for sand was the great fertilizer,
I bade Mr. Eaglet, although ’twas ideal,
Get some from the clay-pit, and so get’m real;
Then, just as my footstep was leaving the portal,
I met an elm targe on a great Highland mortal,
With the maid he had woo’d by the loch’s flowery margelet,
And row’d in his boat, which for rhyme’s sake call bargelet,
And blithe to the breeze would have set the sail daily,
But it blew at that rate which the sailors term gale, aye;
I stumbled against the fair bride he had married,
When a merle gat at large from a cage that she carried;
She gave a loud screech! and I could not well blame her,
But lame as I was, I’d no wish to get lamer;
So I made my escape—ne’er an antelope fleeter,
Lest my verse, like the poet, should limp through lag metre.

Anagrams are sometimes found in old epitaphial inscriptions. For example,
at St. Andrews:—
Catharine Carstairs,
Casta rara Christiana.
Chaste, rare Christian.

At Newenham church, Northampton:—
William Thorneton.
O little worth in man.

At Keynsham:—
Mrs. Joane Flover.
Love for anie.

At Mannington, 1631:—
Katherine Lougher,
Lower taken higher.

Maitland has the following curious specimen:—

How much there is in a word—monastery, says I: why, that makes nasty
Rome; and when I looked at it again, it was evidently more nasty—a very
vile place or mean sty. Ay, monster, says I, you are found out. What
monster? said the Pope. What monster? said I. Why, your own image there,
stone Mary. That, he replied, is my one star, my Stella Maris, my treasure,
my guide! No, said I, you should rather say, my treason. Yet no arms, said
he. No, quoth I, quiet may suit best, as long as you have no mastery, I mean
money arts. No, said he again, those are Tory means; and Dan, my senator,
will baffle them. I don’t know that, said I, but I think one might make no
mean story out of this one word—monastery.

CHRONOGRAMS.

Addison, in his remarks on the different species of false wit, (Spect. No.
60,) thus notices the chronogram. “This kind of wit appears very often on
modern medals, especially those of Germany, when they represent in the
inscription the year in which they were coined. Thus we see on a medal of
Gustavus Adolphus the following words:—
ChrIstVs DuX ergo trIVMphVs.

If you take the pains to pick the figures out of the several words, and range
them in their proper order, you will find they amount to MDCXVVVII, or
1627, the year in which the medal was stamped; for as some of the letters
distinguish themselves from the rest and overtop their fellows, they are to
be considered in a double capacity, both as letters and as figures. Your
laborious German wits will turn over a whole dictionary for one of these
ingenious devices. A man would think they were searching after an apt
classical term; but instead of that they are looking out a word that has an L,
an M, or a D, in it. When therefore we meet with any of these inscriptions,
we are not so much to look in them for the thought as for the year of the
Lord.”
Apropos of this humorous allusion to the Germanesque character of the
chronogram, it is worthy of notice that European tourists find far more
numerous examples of it in the inscriptions on the churches on the banks of
the Rhine than in any other part of the continent.

On the title-page of “Hugo Grotius his Sophompaneas” the date, 1652, is
not given in the usual form, but is included in the name of the author, thus:
—
franCIs goLDsMIth.

Howell, in his German Diet, after narrating the death of Charles, son of
Philip II. of Spain, says:—
If you desire to know the year, this chronogram will tell you:

fILIVs ante DIeM patrIos InqVIrIt In annos.
MDLVVIIIIIIII, or 1568.

The following commemorates the death of Queen Elizabeth:—
My Day Is Closed In Immortality. (1603.)

A German book was issued in 1706, containing fac-similes and descriptions
of more than two hundred medals coined in honor of Martin Luther. An
inscription on one of them expresses the date of his death, 1546, as follows:
—
ECCe nVnc MorItVs IVstVs In paCe ChrIstI exItV tVto et beato.

The most extraordinary attempt of this kind that has yet been made, bears
the following title:—
Chronographica Gratulatio in Felicissimum adventum Serenissimi
Cardinalis Ferdinandi, Hispaniarum Infantis, a Collegio Soc. Jesu.
A dedication to St. Michael and an address to Ferdinand are followed by
one hundred hexameters, every one of which is a chronogram, and each
gives the same result, 1634. The first and last verses are subjoined as a
specimen.
AngeLe CæLIVogI MIChaëL LUX UnICa CætUs.
VersICULIs InCLUsa, fLUent In sæCULa CentUM.

Palindromes.

RECURRENT, RECIPROCAL, OR REVERSIBLE WORDS
AND VERSES.

The only fair specimen we can find of reciprocal words, or those which,
read backwards or forwards, are the same, is the following couplet, which,
according to an old book, cost the author a world of foolish labor:—
Odo tenet mulum, madidam mulum tenet Odo.
Anna tenet mappam, madidam mappam tenet Anna.

The following admired reciprocal lines, addressed to St. Martin by Satan,
according to the legend, the reader will find on perusal, either backwards or
forwards, precisely the same:—
Signa te signa; temere me tangis et angis;
Roma tibi subito motibus ibit amor.

[St. Martin having given up the profession of a soldier, and having been made Bishop of Tours, when
prelates neither kept carriages nor servants, had occasion to go to Rome, in order to consult the Pope
upon ecclesiastical matters. As he was walking along the road he met the devil, who politely accosted
him, and ventured to observe how fatiguing and indecorous it was for him to perform so long a
journey on foot, like the commonest pilgrim. The Saint understood the drift of Old Nick’s address,
and commanded him immediately to become a beast of burden, or jumentum; which the devil did in a
twinkling by assuming the shape of a mule. The Saint jumped upon the fiend’s back, who at first
trotted cheerfully along, but soon slackened his pace. The bishop of course had neither whip nor
spurs, but was possessed of a much more powerful stimulus, for, says the legend, he made the sign of
the cross, and the smarting devil instantly galloped away. Soon however, and naturally enough, the
father of sin returned to sloth and obstinacy, and Martin hurried him again with repeated signs of the
cross, till, twitched and stung to the quick by those crossings so hateful to him, the vexed and tired
reprobate uttered the foregoing distich in a rage, meaning, Cross, cross yourself; you annoy and vex
me without necessity; for owing to my exertions, Rome, the object of your wishes, will soon be near.]

The Palindrome changes the sense in the backward reading; the Versus
Cancrinus retains the sense in both instances unchanged, as in this instance:
—
Bei Leid lieh stets Heil die Lieb.
(In trouble comfort is lent by love.)

Similarly recurrent is the lawyer’s motto,—
Si nummi immunis,

translated by Camden, “Give me my fee, I warrant you free.”
The Greek inscription on the mosque of St. Sophia, in Constantinople,
Νίφον ἀνομήματα μὴ μόναν ὄφιν,[5]

presents the same words, whether read from left to right, or from right to
left. So also the expressions in English,—
Madam, I’m Adam. (Adam to Eve.)
Name no one man.
Able was I ere I saw Elba. (Napoleon loq.)
Snug & raw was I ere I saw war & guns.
Red rum did emit revel ere Lever time did murder.
Red root put up to order.
Trash? even interpret Nineveh’s art.
Lewd did I live, evil I did dwel.
Draw pupil’s lip upward.

This enigmatical line surrounds a figure of the sun in the mosaic pavement
of Sa. Maria del Fiori, at Florence:—
En giro torte sol ciclos et rotor igne.

These lines are supposed to be addressed to a young man detained at Rome
by a love affair:—
Roma ibi tibi sedes—ibi tibi Amor;
Roma etsi te terret et iste Amor,
Ibi etsi vis te non esse—sed es ibi,
Roma te tenet et Amor.

At Rome you live—at Rome you love;
From Rome that love may you affright,
Although you’d leave, you never move,
For love and Rome both bar your flight.

Dean Swift wrote a letter to Dr. Sheridan, composed of Latin words strung
together as mere gibberish but each word, when read backwards, makes
passable English. Take for example the following short sentences:—
Mi Sana. Odioso ni mus rem. Moto ima os illud dama nam? (I’m an ass. O so I do in summer. O
Tom, am I so dull, I a mad man?)

Inscription for a hospital, paraphrased from the Psalms:—

Acide me malo, sed non desola me, medica.

The ingenious Latin verses subjoined are reversible verbally only, not
literally, and will be found to embody opposite meanings by commencing
with the last word and reading backwards:—
Prospicimus modo, quod durabunt tempore longo,
Fœdera, nec patriæ pax cito diffugiet.

Diffugiet cito pax patriæ, nec fœdera longo,
Tempore durabunt, quod modo prospicimus.

The following hexameter from Santa Marca Novella, Florence, refers to the
sacrifice of Abel (Gen. iv. 4). Reversed, it is a pentameter, and refers to the
sacrifice of Cain (iv. 3).
Sacrum pingue dabo non macram sacrificabo,
Sacrificabo macram non dabo pingue sacrum.

The subjoined distich arose from the following circumstance. A tutor, after
having explained to his class one of the odes of Horace, undertook to
dictate the same in hexameter verses, as an exercise (as he said). It cost him
considerable trouble: he hesitated several times, and occasionally
substituted other words, but finally succeeded. Some of his scholars thought
he would not accomplish his task; others maintained that, having begun, it
was a point of honor to complete it.
Retro mente labo, non metro continuabo;
Continuabo metro; non labo mente retro.

Addison mentions an epigram called the Witches’ Prayer, that “fell into
verse when it was read either backward or forward, excepting only that it
cursed one way, and blessed the other.”
One of the most remarkable palindromes on record is the following. Its
distinguishing peculiarity is that the first letter of each successive word
unites to spell the first word; the second letter of each, the second word; and
so on throughout; and the same will be found precisely true on reversal.
SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS.

But the neatest and prettiest specimen that has yet appeared comes from a
highly cultivated lady who was attached to the court of Queen Elizabeth.
Having been banished from the court on suspicion of too great familiarity
with a nobleman then high in favor, the lady adopted this device,—the
moon covered by a cloud,—and the following palindrome for a motto:—
ABLATA AT ALBA.

(Banished, but blameless.)

The merit of this kind of composition was never in any example so
heightened by appropriateness and delicacy of sentiment.
Paschasius composed the recurrent epitaph on Henry IV.:—
Arca serenum me gere regem, munere sacra,
Solem, arcas, animos, omina sacra, melos.

A very curious continuous series of palindromes was printed in Vienna in
1802. It was written in ancient Greek by a modern Greek named
Ambrosius, who called it Πόιημα καρκινικὸν. It contains 455 lines, every
one of which is a literal palindrome. A few are selected at random, as
examples:—
Ἰσα πασι Ση τε υη, Συ ὁ Μουσηγετης ις απασι.
Νεαν ασω μελιφωνον, ὦ φιλε, Μωσαν αεν.
Ὠ λακωνικε, σε μονω τω Νομε, σε κινω καλω.
Ἀρετα πηγασε σε σα γη πατερα.
Σωτηρ συ εσο, ὦ ελεε θεε λεω ος ευς ρητως.

The following line is expressive of the sentiments of a Roman Catholic;
read backwards, of those of a Huguenot:—
Patrum dicta probo, nec sacris belligerabo.
Belligerabo sacris, nec probo dicta patrum.

These lines, written to please a group of youthful folk, serve to show that
our English tongue is as capable of being twisted into uncouth shapes as is
the Latin, if any one will take the trouble:—

One winter’s eve, around the fire, a cozy group we sat,
Engaged, as was our custom old, in after-dinner chat;
Small-talk it was, no doubt, because the smaller folk were there,
And they, the young monopolists! absorbed the lion’s share.
Conundrums, riddles, rebuses, cross-questions, puns atrocious,
Taxed all their ingenuity, till Peter the precocious—
Old head on shoulders juvenile—cried, “Now for a new task:
Let’s try our hand at Palindromes!” “Agreed! But first,” we ask,
“Pray, Peter, what are Palindromes?” The forward imp replied,
“A Palindrome’s a string of words of sense or meaning void,
Which reads both ways the same: and here, with your permission,
I’ll cite some half a score of samples, lacking all precision
(But held together by loose rhymes, to test my definition):—

“A milksop, jilted by his lass, or wandering in his wits,
Might murmur, ‘Stiff, O dairy-man, in a myriad of fits!’

“A limner by photography dead-beat in competition,
Thus grumbled, ‘No, it is opposed; art sees trade’s opposition!’

“A nonsense-loving nephew might his soldier-uncle dun
With ‘Now stop, major-general, are negro jam-pots won?’

“A supercilious grocer, if inclined that way, might snub
A child with ‘But regusa store, babe, rots a sugar-tub.’

“Thy spectre, Alexander, is a fortress, cried Hephaestion.
Great A. said, ‘No, it’s a bar of gold, a bad log for a bastion!’

“A timid creature, fearing rodents—mice and such small fry—
‘Stop, Syrian, I start at rats in airy spots,’ might cry.

“A simple soul, whose wants are few, might say, with hearty zest,
‘Desserts I desire not, so long no lost one rise distressed.’

“A stern Canadian parent might in earnest, not in fun,
Exclaim, ‘No sot nor Ottawa law at Toronto, son!’

“A crazy dentist might declare, as something strange or new,
That ‘Paget saw an Irish tooth, sir, in a waste gap!’ True!

“A surly student, hating sweets, might answer with elan,
‘Name tarts? no, medieval slave, I demonstrate man!’

“He who in Nature’s bitters findeth sweet food every day,
‘Eureka! till I pull up ill I take rue,’ well might say.”

Equivoque.

COPY OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY CARDINAL
RICHELIEU TO THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR AT ROME.

First read the letter across, then double it in the middle, and read the first
column.
Sir,—Mons. Compigne, a Savoyard by birth, a Friar of the order of Saint Benedict,
is the man who will present to you as his passport to your protection,
this letter. He is one of the most discreet, the wisest and the least
meddling persons that I have ever known or have had the pleasure to converse with.
He has long earnestly solicited me to write to you in his favor, and
to give him a suitable character, together with a letter of credence;
which I have accordingly granted to his real merit, rather I must say, than to
his importunity; for, believe me, Sir, his modesty is only exceeded by his worth,
I should be sorry that you should be wanting in serving him on account of being
misinformed of his real character; I should be afflicted if you were
as some other gentlemen have been, misled on that score, who now esteem him,
and those among the best of my friends; wherefore, and from no other motive
I think it my duty to advertise you that you are most particularly desired,
to have especial attention to all he does, to show him all the respect imaginable,
nor venture to say any thing before him, that may either offend or displease him
in any sort; for I may truly say, there is no man I love so much as M. Compigne,
none whom I should more regret to see neglected, as no one can be more worthy to be
received and trusted in decent society. Base, therefore, would it be to injure him.
And I well know, that as soon as you are made sensible of his virtues, and
shall become acquainted with him you will love him as I do; and then
you will thank me for this my advice. The assurance I entertain of your
Courtesy obliges me to desist from urging this matter to you further, or
saying any thing more on this subject. Believe me, Sir, &c. RICHELIEU.

A LOVE-LETTER.
The reader, after perusing it, will please read it again, commencing on the
first line, then the third and fifth, and so on, reading each alternate line to
the end.
To Miss M——.

—The great love I have hitherto expressed for you
is false and I find my indifference towards you
—increases daily. The more I see of you, the more
you appear in my eyes an object of contempt.
—I feel myself every way disposed and determined
to hate you. Believe me, I never had an intention
—to offer you my hand. Our last conversation has
left a tedious insipidity, which has by no means
—given me the most exalted idea of your character.
Your temper would make me extremely unhappy
—and were we united, I should experience nothing but
the hatred of my parents added to the anything but
—pleasure in living with you. I have indeed a heart
to bestow, but I do not wish you to imagine it
—at your service. I could not give it to any one more
inconsistent and capricious than yourself, and less
—capable to do honor to my choice and to my family.
Yes, Miss, I hope you will be persuaded that
—I speak sincerely, and you will do me a favor
to avoid me. I shall excuse you taking the trouble
—to answer this. Your letters are always full of
impertinence, and you have not a shadow of
—wit and good sense. Adieu! adieu! believe me
so averse to you, that it is impossible for me even
—to be your most affectionate friend and humble
servant. L——.

INGENIOUS SUBTERFUGE.

A young lady newly married, being obliged to show to her husband all the
letters she wrote, sent the following to an intimate friend. The key is, to
read the first and then every alternate line only.

—I cannot be satisfied, my dearest friend!
blest as I am in the matrimonial state,
—unless I pour into your friendly bosom,
which has ever been in unison with mine,
—the various sensations which swell
with the liveliest emotion of pleasure,
—my almost bursting heart. I tell you my dear
husband is the most amiable of men,
—I have now been married seven weeks, and
never have found the least reason to
—repent the day that joined us. My husband is
both in person and manners far from resembling
—ugly, cross, old, disagreeable, and jealous
monsters, who think by confining to secure—
—a wife, it is his maxim to treat as a
bosom friend and confidant, and not as a
—plaything, or menial slave, the woman
chosen to be his companion. Neither party
—he says, should always obey implicitly;
but each yield to the other by turns.
—An ancient maiden aunt, near seventy,
a cheerful, venerable, and pleasant old lady,
—lives in the house with us; she is the de-
light of both young and old; she is ci-
—vil to all the neighborhood round,
generous and charitable to the poor.
—I am convinced my husband loves nothing more
than he does me; he flatters me more
—than a glass; and his intoxication
(for so I must call the excess of his love)
—often makes me blush for the unworthiness
of its object, and wish I could be more deserving
—of the man whose name I bear. To
say all in one word, my dear, and to
—crown the whole—my former gallant lover
is now my indulgent husband; my husband
—is returned, and I might have had
a prince without the felicity I find in
—him. Adieu! may you be blest as I am un-
able to wish that I could be more
—happy.

DOUBLE-FACED CREED.

The following cross-reading from a history of Popery, published in 1679,
and formerly called in New England The Jesuits’ Creed, will suit either
Catholic or Protestant accordingly as the lines are read downward in single
columns or across the double columns:—
Pro fide teneo sana Quæ docet Anglicana,
Affirmat quæ Romana Videntur mihi vana.
Supremus quando rex est Tum plebs est fortunata,
Erraticus tum Grex est Cum caput fiat papa.
Altari cum ornatur Communio fit inanis,
Populus tum beatur Cum mensa vina panis.
Asini nomen meruit Hunc morem qui non capit,
Missam qui deseruit Catholicus est et sapit.

I hold for faith What England’s church allows,
What Rome’s church saith, My conscience disavows.
Where the king is head The flock can take no shame,
The flock’s misled, Who hold the pope supreme.
Where the altar’s drest The worship’s scarce divine,
The people’s blest, Whose table’s bread and wine.
He’s but an ass Who their communion flies,
Who shuns the mass, Is Catholic and wise.

REVOLUTIONARY VERSES.

The author of the following Revolutionary double entendre, which
originally appeared in a Philadelphia newspaper, is unknown. It may be
read in three different ways,—1st. Let the whole be read in the order in
which it is written; 2d. Then the lines downward on the left of each comma
in every line; and 3d. In the same manner on the right of each comma. By
the first reading it will be observed that the Revolutionary cause is
condemned, and by the others, it is encouraged and lauded:—
Hark! hark! the trumpet sounds, the din of war’s alarms,
O’er seas and solid grounds, doth call us all to arms;
Who for King George doth stand, their honors soon shall shine;
Their ruin is at hand, who with the Congress join.
The acts of Parliament, in them I much delight,
I hate their cursed intent, who for the Congress fight,
The Tories of the day, they are my daily toast,
They soon will sneak away, who Independence boast;
Who non-resistance hold, they have my hand and heart.
May they for slaves be sold, who act a Whiggish part;
On Mansfield, North, and Bute, may daily blessings pour,
Confusion and dispute, on Congress evermore;
To North and British lord, may honors still be done,
I wish a block or cord, to General Washington.

THE HOUSES OF STUART AND HANOVER.
I love with all my heart The Tory party here
The Hanoverian part Most hateful do appear
And for that settlement I ever have denied
My conscience gives consent To be on James’s side
Most righteous is the cause To fight for such a king
To fight for George’s laws Will England’s ruin bring
It is my mind and heart In this opinion I
Though none will take my part Resolve to live and die.
Lansdowme MSS. 852

THE NEW REGIME.

The following equivoque was addressed to a republican at the
commencement of the French Revolution, in reply to the question, “What
do you think of the new constitution?”
A la nouvelle loi Je veux être fidèle
Je renonce dans l’âme Au régime ancien,
Comme épreuve de ma foi Je crois la loi nouvelle
Je crois celle qu’on blâme Opposée à tout bien;
Dieu vous donne la paix Messieurs les démocrats
Noblesse désolée Au diable allez-vous en;
Qu’il confonde à jamais Tous les Aristocrats
Messieurs de l’Assemblée Ont eux seuls le bon sens.

The newly made law ’Tis my wish to esteem
From my soul I abhor The ancient regime
My faith to prove good, I maintain the new code
I maintain the old code Is opposed to all good.
May God give you peace, Messieurs Democrats,
Forsaken Noblesse, To the devil go hence.
May He ever confound All the Aristocrats
The Assembly all round Are the sole men of sense.

FATAL DOUBLE MEANING.

Count Valavoir, a general in the French service under Turenne, while
encamped before the enemy, attempted one night to pass a sentinel. The
sentinel challenged him, and the count answered “Va-la-voir,” which
literally signifies “Go and see.” The soldier, who took the words in this
sense, indignantly repeated the challenge, and was answered in the same
manner, when he fired; and the unfortunate Count fell dead upon the spot,
—a victim to the whimsicality of his surname.

A TRIPLE PLATFORM.
Among the memorials of the sectional conflict of 1861–5, is an American
platform arranged to suit all parties. The first column is the Secession; the
second, the Abolition platform; and the whole, read together, is the
Democratic platform:—
Hurrah for The Old Union
Secession Is a curse
We fight for The Constitution
The Confederacy Is a league with hell
We love Free speech
The rebellion Is treason
We glory in A Free Press
Separation Will not be tolerated
We fight not for The negro’s freedom
Reconstruction Must be obtained
We must succeed At every hazard
The Union We love
We love not The negro
We never said Let the Union slide
We want The Union as it was
Foreign intervention Is played out
We cherish The old flag
The stars and bars Is a flaunting lie
We venerate The heabus corpus
Southern chivalry Is hateful
Death to Jeff Davis
Abe Lincoln Isn’t the Government
Down with Mob law
Law and order Shall triumph.

LOYALTY, OR JACOBINISM?

This piece of amphibology was circulated among the United Irishmen,
previous to the Rebellion of 1798. First, read the lines as they stand, then
according to the numerals prefixed:—
1. I love my country—but the king,
3. Above all men his praise I sing,
2. Destruction to his odious reign,
4. That plague of princes, Thomas Paine;
5. The royal bankers are displayed,
7. And may success the standard aid
6. Defeat and ruin seize the cause
8. Of France her liberty and laws.

NON COMMITTAL.

NEAT EVASION.

Bishop Egerton, of Durham, avoided three impertinent questions by
replying as follows:—
1. What inheritance he received from his father?
“Not so much as he expected.”
2. What was his lady’s fortune?
“Less than was reported.”
3. What was the value of his living of Ross?
“More than he made of it.”

A PATRIOTIC TOAST.

Most readers will remember the story of a non-committal editor who,
during the Presidential canvass of 1872, desiring to propitiate subscribers of
both parties, hoisted the ticket of “Gr—— and ——n” at the top of his
column, thus giving those who took the paper their choice of interpretations
between “Grant and Wilson” and “Greeley and Brown.” A story turning on
the same style of point—and probably quite as apocryphal—though the
author labels it “historique”—is told of an army officers’ mess in France. A
brother-soldier from a neighboring detachment having come in, and a
champenoise having been uncorked in his honor, “Gentlemen,” said the
guest, raising his glass, “I am about to propose a toast at once patriotic and
political.” A chorus of hasty ejaculations and of murmurs at once greeted
him. “Yes, gentlemen,” coolly proceeded the orator, “I drink to a thing
which—an object that—Bah! I will out with it at once. It begins with an R
and ends with an e.”
“Capital!” whispers a young lieutenant of Bordeaux promotion. “He
proposes the République, without offending the old fogies by saying the
word,”

“Nonsense! He means the Radicale,” replies the other, an old Captain
Cassel.
“Upon my word,” says a third, as he lifts his glass, “our friend must mean
la Royauté.”
“I see!” cries a one-legged veteran of Froschweiler: “we drink to la
Revanche.”
In fact the whole party drank the toast heartily, each interpreting it to his
liking.
In the hands of a Swift, even so trivial an instance might be made to point a
moral on the facility with which, alike in theology and politics—from
Athanasian creed to Cincinnati or Philadelphia platform—men comfortably
interpret to their own diverse likings some doctrine that “begins with an R
and ends with an e,” and swallow it with great unanimity and enthusiasm.

THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL.

During the war of the Rebellion, a merchant of Milwaukee, who is an
excellent hand at sketching, drew most admirably on the wall of his store a
negro’s head, and underneath it wrote, in a manner worthy of the Delphic
oracle, “Dis-Union for eber.” Whether the sentence meant loyalty to the
Union or not, was the puzzling question which the gentleman himself never
answered, invariably stating to the inquirers, “Read it for yourselves,
gentlemen.” So from that day to this, as the saying goes, “no one knows
how dat darkey stood on de war question.”
Another question is puzzling the young ladies who attend a Western Female
College. It seems that one of them discovered that some person had written
on the outer wall of the college, “Young women should set good examples;
for young men will follow them.” The question that is now perplexing the
heads of several of the young ladies of the college is, whether the writer
meant what he or she (the handwriting was rather masculine) wrote, in a
moral sense or in an ironical one.

HOW FRENCH ACTRESSES AVOID GIVING THEIR AGE.

A servant robbed Mlle. Mars of her diamonds one evening while she was at
the theatre. Arrested, he was put upon trial, and witnesses were summoned
to bear testimony to his guilt. Among these was Mlle. Mars. She was
greatly annoyed at this, as, according to the rules of French practice, the
witness, after being sworn, gives his age. Now the age of Mlle. Mars was an
impenetrable mystery, for it was a theme she never alluded to, and she
possessed the art of arresting time’s flight, or at least of repairing its ravages
so effectually that her face never revealed acquaintance with more than
twenty years. She was for some days evidently depressed; then, all at once,
her spirits rose as buoyant as ever. This puzzled the court—for people in her
eminent position always have a court; parasites are plenty in Paris—they
did not know whether she had determined frankly to confess her age, or
whether she had hit upon some means of eluding this thorny point of
practice.
The day of trial came, and she was at her place. The court-room was filled,
and when she was put in the witness-box every ear was bent towards her to
catch the age she would give as her own. “Your name?” said the presiding
judge. “Anne Francoise Hippolyte Mars.” “What is your profession?” “An
actress of the French Comedy.” “What is your age?” “——ty years.”
“What?” inquired the presiding judge, leaning forward. “I have just told
your honor!” replied the actress, giving one of those irresistible smiles
which won the most hostile pit. The judge smiled in turn, and when he
asked, as he did immediately, “Where do you live?” hearty applause long
prevented Mlle. Mars from replying.
Mlle. Cico was summoned before a court to bear witness in favor of some
cosmetic assailed as a poison by victims and their physicians. All the
youngest actresses of Paris were there, and they reckoned upon a good deal
of merriment and profit when Mlle. Cico came to disclose her age. She was
called to the stand—sworn—gave her name and profession. When the judge
said “How old are you?” she quitted the stand, went up to the bench, stood
on tip-toe, and whispered in the judge’s ear the malicious mystery. The
bench smiled, and kept her secret.

The Cento.

A cento primarily signifies a cloak made of patches. In poetry it denotes a
work wholly composed of verses, or passages promiscuously taken from
other authors and disposed in a new form or order, so as to compose a new
work and a new meaning. According to the rules laid down by Ausonius,
the author of the celebrated Nuptial Cento, the pieces may be taken from
the same poet, or from several; and the verses may be either taken entire, or
divided into two, one half to be connected with another half taken
elsewhere; but two verses are never to be taken together.
The Empress Eudoxia wrote the life of Jesus Christ in centos taken from
Homer. Proba Falconia, and, long after him, Alexander Ross, both
composed a life of the Saviour, in the same manner, from Virgil. The title of
Ross’ work, which was republished in 1769, was Virgilius Evangelizans,
sive historia Domini et Salvatoris nostri Jesu Christi Virgilianis verbis et
versibus descripta.
Subjoined are some modern specimens of this literary confectionery, called
in modern parlance

MOSAIC POETRY.
I only knew she came and went Lowell.
Like troutlets in a pool; Hood.
She was a phantom of delight, Wordsworth.
And I was like a fool. Eastman.

“One kiss, dear maid,” I said and sighed, Coleridge.
“Out of those lips unshorn.” Longfellow.
She shook her ringlets round her head, Stoddard.
And laughed in merry scorn. Tennyson.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky! Tennyson.
You hear them, oh my heart? Alice Cary.
’Tis twelve at night by the castle clock, Coleridge.
Beloved, we must part! Alice Cary.

“Come back! come back!” she cried in grief, Campbell.
“My eyes are dim with tears— Bayard Taylor.
How shall I live through all the days, Mrs. Osgood.
All through a hundred years?” T. S. Perry.

’Twas in the prime of summer time, Hood.
She blessed me with her hand; Hoyt.
We strayed together, deeply blest, Mrs. Edwards.
Into the Dreaming Land. Cornwall.

The laughing bridal roses blow, Patmore.
To dress her dark brown hair; Bayard Taylor.
No maiden may with her compare, Brailsford.
Most beautiful, most rare! Read.

I clasped it on her sweet cold hand, Browning.
The precious golden link; Smith.
I calmed her fears, and she was calm, Coleridge.
“Drink, pretty creature, drink!” Wordsworth.

And so I won my Genevieve, Coleridge.

And walked in Paradise; Hervey.
The fairest thing that ever grew Wordsworth.
Atween me and the skies. Osgood.

Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
Shoot folly as it flies?
Ah, more than tears of blood can tell,
Are in that word farewell, farewell;
’Tis folly to be wise.

And what is Friendship but a name
That burns on Etna’s breast of flame?
Thus runs the world away.
Sweet is the ship that’s under sail
To where yon taper points the vale
With hospitable ray.

Drink to me only with thine eyes
Through cloudless climes and starry skies,
My native land, good-night.
Adieu, adieu, my native shore;
’Tis Greece, but living Greece no more.
Whatever is is right.

Oh, ever thus from childhood’s hour,
Daughter of Jove, relentless power,
In russet mantle clad.
The rocks and hollow mountains rung
While yet in early Greece she sung,
I’m pleased, and yet I’m sad.

In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
O, thou, the nymph with placid eye,
By Philip’s warlike son;
And on the light fantastic toe
Thus hand-in-hand through life we’ll go;
Good-night to Marmion.

LIFE.

1.—Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
2.—Life’s a short summer, man a flower.

3.—By turns we catch the vital breath and die—
4.—The cradle and the tomb, alas! so nigh.

5.—To be is better far than not to be,
6.—Though all man’s life may seem a tragedy.

7.—But light cares speak when mighty griefs are dumb;
8.—The bottom is but shallow whence they come.

9.—Your fate is but the common fate of all,
10.—Unmingled joys, here, to no man befall.

11.—Nature to each allots his proper sphere,
12.—Fortune makes folly her peculiar care.

13.—Custom does not often reason overrule
14.—And throw a cruel sunshine on a fool.

15.—Live well, how long or short permit, to heaven;
16.—They who forgive most, shall be most forgiven.

17.—Sin may be clasped so close we cannot see its face—
18.—Vile intercourse where virtue has not place.

19.—Then keep each passion down, however dear,
20.—Thou pendulum, betwixt a smile and tear;

21.—Her sensual snares let faithless pleasure lay,
22.—With craft and skill, to ruin and betray.

23.—Soar not too high to fall, but stop to rise;
24.—We masters grow of all that we despise.

25.—Oh then renounce that impious self-esteem;
26.—Riches have wings and grandeur is a dream.

27.—Think not ambition wise, because ’tis brave,
28.—The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

29.—What is ambition? ’Tis a glorious cheat,
30.—Only destructive to the brave and great.

31.—What’s all the gaudy glitter of a crown?
32.—The way to bliss lies not on beds of down.

33.—How long we live, not years but actions tell;
34.—That man lives twice who lives the first life well.

35.—Make then, while yet ye may, your God your friend,
36.—Whom Christians worship, yet not comprehend.

p, y p

37.—The trust that’s given guard, and to yourself be just;
38.—For, live we how we can, yet die we must.

1. Young. 2. Dr. Johnson. 3. Pope. 4. Prior. 5. Sewell. 6. Spenser. 7. Daniel. 8. Sir Walter Raleigh. 9.
Longfellow. 10. Southwell. 11. Congreve. 12. Churchill. 13. Rochester. 14. Armstrong. 15. Milton.
16. Baily. 17. Trench. 18. Somerville. 19. Thompson. 20. Byron. 21. Smollet. 22. Crabbe. 23.
Massinger. 24. Crowley. 25. Beattie. 26. Cowper. 27. Sir Walter Davenant. 28. Grey. 29. Willis. 30.
Addison. 31. Dryden. 32. Francis Quarles. 33. Watkins. 34. Herrick. 35. William Mason. 36. Hill. 37.
Dana. 38. Shakespeare.

CENTO FROM POPE.

’Tis education forms the common mind; Moral Essays.
A mighty maze! but not without a plan. Essay on Man.
Ask of the learned the way? The learned are blind; Essay on Man.
The proper study of mankind is man. Essay on Man.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; Essay on Criticism.
Some have at first for wits, then poets passed— Essay on Criticism.
See from each clime the learned their incense bring, Essay on Criticism.
For rising merit will buoy up at last. Essay on Criticism.

Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise.— Essay on Man.
Virtue alone is happiness below; Essay on Man.
Honor and shame from no condition rise, Essay on Man.
And all our knowledge is ourselves to know. Essay on Man.

Who shall decide when doctors disagree? Moral Essay.
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right. Essay on Man.
Since men interpret texts, why should not we January and May.
Read them by day and meditate by night? Essay on Criticism.

BIBLICAL CENTO.

Cling to the Mighty One, Ps. lxxxix. 19.
Cling in thy grief; Heb. xii. 11.
Cling to the Holy One, Ps. xxxix. 18.
He gives relief; Ps. lxxxvi. 7.
Cling to the Gracious One, Ps. cxvi. 5.
Cling in thy pain; Ps. lv. 4.
Cling to the Faithful One, 1 Thess. v. 24.
He will sustain. Ps. xxviii. 8.

Cling to the Living One, Heb. vii. 25.
Cling in thy woe; Ps. lxxxvi. 7.
Cling to the Loving One, 1 John iv. 16.
Through all below; Rom. viii. 38, 39.
Cling to the Pardoning One, Isa. lv. 7.
He speaketh peace; John xiv. 27.
Cling to the Healing One, Exod. xv. 26.
Anguish shall cease. Ps. cxlvii. 3.

Cling to the Bleeding One, 1 John i. 7.
Cling to His side; John xx. 27.
Cling to the Risen One, Rom. vi. 9.
In Him abide; John xv. 4.
Cling to the Coming One, Rev. xxii. 20.
Hope shall arise; Titus ii. 13.
Cling to the Reigning One, Ps. xcvii. 1.
Joy lights thine eyes. Ps. xvi. 11.

THE RETURN OF ISRAEL.
I will surely gather the remnant of Israel.—Micah ii. 12.

And the Temple again shall be built,
And filled as it was of yore;
And the burden be lift from the heart of the world,
And the nations all adore;
Prayers to the throne of Heaven,
Morning and eve shall rise,
And unto and not of the Lamb
Shall be the sacrifice.—Festus.

In many strange and Gentile lands Micah v. 8.
Where Jacob’s scattered sons are driven, Jer. xxiii. 8.
With longing eyes and lifted hands, Lam. i. 17.
They wait Messiah’s sign from heaven. Matth. xxiv. 30

The cup of fury they have quaffed, Isa. li. 17.
Till fainted like a weary flock; Isa. li. 20.
But Heaven will soon withdraw the draught, Isa. li. 22.
And give them waters from the rock. Exod. xvii. 6.

What though their bodies, as the ground, Isa. li. 23.
Th’ Assyrian long has trodden o’er! Isa. lii. 4.
Zion, a captive daughter bound, Isa. lii. 2.
Shall rise to know her wrong no more. Isa. liv. 3, 4.

The veil is passing from her eyes, 2 Cor. iii. 16.
The King of Nations she shall see; Zech. xiv. 9.
Judea! from the dust arise! Isa. lii. 2.
Thy ransomed sons return to thee! Jer. xxxi. 17.

How gorgeous shall thy land appear, Isa. liv. 12.
When, like the jewels of a bride, Isa. xlix. 18.
Thy broken bands, all gathered there, Zech. xi. 14.
Shall clothe thy hills on every side! Isa. xlix. 18.

When on thy mount, as prophets taught, Isa. xxiv. 23.
Shall shine the throne of David’s Son; Ezek. xxxvii. 22.

The Gospel’s latest triumphs brought Micah iv. 2.
Where first its glorious course begun. Luke xxiv. 47.

Gentiles and Kings, who thee oppressed, Isa. lx. 14.
Shall to thy gates with praise repair; Isa. lx. 11.
A fold of flocks shall Sharon rest, Isa. lxv. 10.
And clustered fruits its vineyard bear. Joel ii. 22.

Then shall an Eden morn illume Isa. li. 3.
Earth’s fruitful vales, without a thorn: Isa. lv. 13.
The wilderness rejoice and bloom, Isa. xxxv. 1.
And nations in a day be born. Zech. ii. 11.

The Lord his holy arm makes bare; Isa. lii. 10.
Zion! thy cheerful songs employ! Zeph. iii. 14.
Thy robes of bridal beauty wear, Isa. lii. 1.
And shout, ye ransomed race, for joy! Isa. lii. 9.

Macaronic Verse.

“A TREATISE OF WINE.”

The following specimen of macaronic verse, from the commonplace book
of Richard Hilles, who died in 1535, is probably the best of its kind extant.
The scriptural allusions and the large intermixture of Latin evidently point
to the refectory of some genial monastery as its source:—

The best tree if ye take intent,
Inter ligna fructifer,
Is the vine tree by good argument,
Dulcia ferens pondera.

Saint Luke saith in his Gospel,
Arbor fructu noscitu,
The vine beareth wine as I you tell,
Hinc aliis præponitur.

The first that planted the vineyard,
Manet in cœli gaudi,
His name was Noe, as I am learned,
Genesis testimonio.

God gave unto him knowledge and wit,
A quo procedunt omni,
First of the grape wine for to get,
Propter magna mysteria.

The first miracle that Jesus did,
Erat in vino rube,
In Cana of Galilee it betide,
Testante Evangelio.

He changed water into wine,
Aquæ rubescunt hydri,
And bade give it to Archetcline,
Ut gustet tunc primarie.

Like as the rose exceedeth all flowers,
Inter cuncta floriger,
So doth wine all other liquors,
Dans multa salutifera.

David, the prophet, saith that wine
Lætificat cor homini,
It maketh men merry if it be fine,
Est ergo digni nominis.

It nourisheth age if it be good,
Facit ut esset juveni,
It gendereth in us gentle blood,
Nam venas purgat sanguinis.

By all these causes ye should think
Quæ sunt rationabile,
That good wine should be best of all drink
Inter potus potabiles.

Wine drinkers all, with great honor,
Semper laudate Dominu,

The which sendeth the good liquor
Propter salutem hominum.

Plenty to all that love good wine,
Donet Deus largiu,
And bring them some when they go hence,
Ubi non sitient amplius.

THE SUITOR WITH NINE TONGUES.
Τι σοι λεγω, μειρακιον,
Now that this fickle heart is won?
Me semper amaturam te
And never, never, never stray?
Herzschätzchen, Du verlangst zu viel
When you demand so strict a seal.
N’est-ce pas assez que je t’aime
Without remaining still the same?
Gij daarom geeft u liefde niet
If others may not have a treat.
Muy largo es mi corazon,
And fifty holds as well as one.
Non far nell’ acqua buco che
I am resolved to have my way;
Im lo boteach atta bi,
I’m willing quite to set you free:
Be you content with half my time,
As half in English is my rhyme.

MAGINN’S ALTERNATIONS—HORACE, EPODE II.
Blest man, who far from busy hum,
Ut prisca gens mortalium,
Whistles his team afield with glee
Solutus omni fenore:
He lives in peace, from battles free,
Nec horret iratum mare;
And shuns the forum, and the gay
Potentiorum limina.
Therefore to vines of purple gloss
Altas maritat populos,
Or pruning off the boughs unfit
Feliciores inserit.

* * * * *

Alphius the usurer, babbled thus,
Jam jam futurus rusticus,
Called in his cast on th’Ides—but he
Quærit Kalendis ponere.

CONTENTI ABEAMUS.

Come, jocund friends, a bottle bring,
And push around the jorum;
We’ll talk and laugh, and quaff and sing,
Nunc suavium amorum.

While we are in a merry mood,
Come, sit down ad bibendum;
And if dull care should dare intrude,
We’ll to the devil send him.

A moping elf I can’t endure
While I have ready rhino;
And all life’s pleasures centre still
In venere ac vino.

Be merry then, my friends, I pray,
And pass your time in joco,
For it is pleasant, as they say,
Desipere in loco.

He that loves not a young lass
Is sure an arrant stultus,
And he that will not take a glass
Deserves to be sepultus.

Pleasure, music, love and wine
Res valde sunt jucundæ,
And pretty maidens look divine,
Provided ut sunt mundæ.

I hate a snarling, surly fool,
Qui latrat sicut canis,
Who mopes and ever eats by rule,
Drinks water and eats panis.

Give me the man that’s always free,
Qui finit molli more,
The cares of life, what’er they be;
Whose motto still is “Spero.”

Death will turn us soon from hence,
Nigerrimas ad sedes;
And all our lands and all our pence
Ditabunt tune heredes.

Why should we then forbear to sport?
Dum vivamus, vivamus,
And when the Fates shall cut us down
Contenti abeamus.

FLY-LEAF SCRIBBLING.
Iste liber pertinet,
And bear it well in mind,
Ad me, Johannem Rixbrum,
So courteous and so kind.
Quem si ego perdam,
And by you it shall be found,
Redde mihi iterum,
Your fame I then will sound.
Sed si mihi redeas,
Then blessed thou shalt be,
Et ago tibi gratias
Whenever I thee see.

THE CAT AND THE RATS.
Felis sedit by a hole,
Intentus he, cum omni soul,
Prendere rats
Mice cucurrerunt trans the floor,
In numero duo, tres, or more—
Obliti cats.

Felis saw them, oculis;
“I’ll have them,” inquit he, “I guess,
Dum ludunt.”
Tunc ille crept toward the group,
“Habeam,” dixit, “good rat soup—
Pingues sunt.”

Mice continued all ludere,
Intenti they in ludum vere,
Gaudenter.
Tunc rushed the felis into them,
Et tore them omnes limb from limb,
Violenter.

MORAL.

Mures omnes, nunc be shy,
Et aurem præbe mihi,
Benigne.
Sit hoc satis—“verbum sat,”
Avoid a whopping big tom-cat
Studiose.

POLYGLOT INSCRIPTION.
The following advertisement in five languages, is inscribed on the window
of a public house in Germany:—
In questa casa trovarete
Toutes les choses que vous souhaitez;
Vinum bonum, costas, carnes,
Neat post-chaise, and horse and harness.
Βους, ὄρνιθές, ἴχθυς, ἄρνες.

PARTING ADDRESS TO A FRIEND,

Written by a German gentleman on the termination of a very agreeable, but
brief acquaintance.
I often wished I had a friend,
Dem ich mich anvertrauen könnt’,
A friend in whom I could confide,
Der mit mir theilte Freud und Leid;
Had I the riches of Girard—
Ich theilte mit ihm Haus und Heerd;
For what is gold? ’tis but a passing metal,
Der Henker hol’ für mich den ganzen Bettel.
Could I purchase the world to live in it alone,
Ich gäb’ dafür nicht eine hohle Bohn’;
I thought one time in you I’d find that friend,
Und glaubte schon mein Sehnen hät ein End;
Alas! your friendship lasted but in sight,
Doch meine grenzet an die Ewigkeit.

AM RHEIN.
Oh, the Rhine—the Rhine—the Rhine—
Comme c’est beau! wie schön! che bello!
He who quaffs thy Luft und Wein,
Morbleu! is a lucky fellow.

How I love thy rushing streams,
Groves of ash and birch and hazel,
From Schaffhausen’s rainbow beams
Jusqu’à l’écho d’Oberwesel!

Oh, que j’aime thy Brüchen when
The crammed Dampfschiff gayly passes!—
Love the bronzed pipes of thy men,
And the bronzed cheeks of thy lasses!

Oh, que j’aime the “oui,” the “bah,”
From thy motley crowds that flow,
With the universal “ja,”
And the allgemeine “so”!

THE DEATH OF THE SEA SERPENT.

Arma virumque cano, qui first in Monongahela
Tarnally squampushed the sarpent, mittens horrentia tella.
Musa, look sharp with your Banjo! I guess to relate this event, I
Shall need all the aid you can give; so nunc aspirate canenti.
Mighty slick were the vessels progressing, Jactata per æquora ventis,
But the brow of the skipper was sad, cum solicitudine mentis;
For whales had been scarce in those parts, and the skipper, so long as he’d known her,
Ne’er had gathered less oil in a cruise to gladden the heart of her owner.
“Darn the whales,” cries the skipper at length, “with a telescope forte videbo
Aut pisces, aut terras.” While speaking, just two or three points on the lea bow,
He saw coming towards them as fast as though to a combat ’twould tempt ’em,
A monstrum horrendum informe (qui lumen was shortly ademptum).
On the taffrail up jumps in a hurry, dux fortis, and seizing a trumpet,
Blows a blast that would waken the dead, mare turbat et aera rumpit—
“Tumble up all you lubbers,” he cries, “tumble up, for careering before us
Is the real old sea sarpent himself, cristis maculisque decorus.”
“Consarn it,” cried one of the sailors, “if e’er we provoke him he’ll kill us,
He’ll certainly chaw up hos morsu, et longis, implexibus illos.”
Loud laughs the bold skipper, and quick premit alto corde dolorem;
(If he does feel like running, he knows it won’t do to betray it before ’em).
“O socii”, inquit. “I’m sartin you’re not the fellers to funk, or
Shrink from the durem certamen, whose fathers fit bravely at Bunker
You, who have waged with the bears, and the buffalo, prœlia dura,
Down to the freshets, and licks of our own free enlightened Missourer;
You could whip your own weight, catulus sævis sine telo,
Get your eyes skinned in a twinkling, et ponite tela phæsello!”
Talia voce refert, curisque ingentibus æger,
Marshals his cute little band, now panting their foes to beleaguer
Swiftly they lower the boats, and swiftly each man at the oar is,
Excipe Britanni timidi duo, virque coloris.

(Blackskin, you know, never feels, how sweet, ’tis pro patria mori;
Ovid had him in view when he said, “Nimium ne crede colori.”)
Now swiftly they pull towards the monster, who seeing the cutter and gig nigh,
Glares at them with terrible eyes, suffectis sanguine et igni,
And, never conceiving their chief will so quickly deal him a floorer,
Opens wide to receive them at once, his linguis vibrantibis ora;
But just as he’s licking his lips, and gladly preparing to taste ’em,
Straight into his eyeball the skipper stridentem conjicit hastam.
Straight as he feels in his eyeball the lance, growing mightly sulky,
At ’em he comes in a rage, ora minax, lingua trusulca.
“Starn all,” cry the sailors at once, for they think he has certainly caught ’em,
Præsentemque viris intentant omnia mortem.
But the bold skipper exclaims, “O terque quaterque beati!
Now with a will dare viam, when I want you, be only parati;
This hoss feels like raising his hair, and in spite of his scaly old cortex,
Full soon you shall see that his corpse rapidus vorat æquore vortex.”
Hoc ait, and choosing a lance: “With this one I think I shall hit it,
He cries, and straight into his mouth, ad intima viscera mittit.”
Screeches the creature in pain, and writhes till the sea is commotum,
As if all its waves had been lashed in a tempest por Eurum et Notum.

Concatenation or Chain Verse.

LASPHRISE’S NOVELTIES.

Lasphrise, a French poet of considerable merit, claims the invention of
several singularities in verse, and among them the following, in which it
will be found that the last word of every line is the first word of the
following line:—
Falloit-il que le ciel me rendit amoureux,
Amoureaux, jouissant d’une beauté craintive,
Craintive à recevoir douceur excessive,
Excessive au plaisir qui rend l’amant heureux?
Heureux si nous avions quelques paisibles lieux,
Lieux où plus surement l’ami fidèle arrive,
Arrive sans soupçon de quelque ami attentive,
Attentive à vouloir nous surprendre tous deux.

Subjoined are examples in our own vernacular:—

TO DEATH.
The longer life, the more offence;
The more offence, the greater pain;
The greater pain, the less defence;
The less defence, the lesser gain—
The loss of gain long ill doth try,
Wherefore, come, death, and let me die.

The shorter life, less count I find;
The less account, the sooner made;
The count soon made, the merrier mind;
The merrier mind doth thought invade—
Short life, in truth, this thing doth try,
Wherefore, come, death, and let me die.

Come, gentle death, the ebb of care;
The ebb of care the flood of life;
The flood of life, the joyful fare;
The joyful fare, the end of strife—
The end of strife that thing wish I,
Wherefore, come, death and let me die.

TRUTH.
Nerve thy soul with doctrines noble,
Noble in the walks of Time,
Time that leads to an eternal,
An eternal life sublime;
Life sublime in moral beauty,
Beauty that shall ever be,
Ever be to lure thee onward,
Onward to the fountain free;
Free to every earnest seeker,
Seeker at the Fount of Youth,
Youth exultant in its beauty,
Beauty found in the quest of Truth.

TRYING SKYING.
Long I looked into the sky,
Sky aglow with gleaming stars,
Stars that stream their courses high,
High and grand, those golden cars,
Cars that ever keep their track,
Track untraced by human ray,
Ray that zones the zodiac,
Zodiac with milky-way,
Milky-way where worlds are sown,
Sown like sands along the sea,
Sea whose tide and tone e’er own,
Own a feeling to be free,
Free to leave its lowly place,
Place to prove with yonder spheres,
Spheres that trace athrough all space,
Space and years—unspoken years.

A RINGING SONG.

The following gem is from an old play of Shakspeare’s time, called The
True Trojans:—
The sky is glad that stars above
Do give a brighter splendor;
The stars unfold their flaming gold,
To make the ground more tender:
The ground doth send a fragrant smell,
That air may be the sweeter;
The air doth charm the swelling seas
With pretty chirping metre;
The sea with rivers’ water doth
Feed plants and flowers so dainty;
The plants do yield their fruitful seed,
That beasts may live in plenty;
The beasts do give both food and cloth,
That men high Jove may honor;
And so the World runs merrily round,
When Peace doth smile upon her!
Oh, then, then oh! oh then, then oh!
This jubilee last forever;
That foreign spite, or civil fight,
Our quiet trouble never!

Bouts Rimés.

Bouts Rimés, or Rhyming Ends, afford considerable amusement. They are
said by Goujet to have been invented by Dulot, a French poet, who had a
custom of preparing the rhymes of sonnets, leaving them to be filled up at
leisure. Having been robbed of his papers, he was regretting the loss of
three hundred sonnets. His friends were astonished that he had written so
many of which they had never heard. “They were blank sonnets,” said he,
and then explained the mystery by describing his “Bouts Rimés.” The idea
appeared ridiculously amusing, and it soon became a fashionable pastime to
collect some of the most difficult rhymes, and fill up the lines. An example
is appended:—
nettle,
pains.
mettle.
remains.
natures.
rebel.
graters.
well.

The rhymes may be thus completed:—
Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
’Tis the same with common natures,
Use them kindly, they rebel;
But be rough as nutmeg-graters,
And the rogues obey you well.

A sprightly young belle, who was an admirer of poetry, would often tease
her beau, who had made some acquaintance with the muses, to write verses

for her. One day, becoming quite importunate, she would take no denial.
“Come, pray, do now write some poetry for me—won’t you? I’ll help you
out. I’ll furnish you with rhymes if you will make lines for them. Here now:
—
please, moan,
tease, bone.”

He at length good-humoredly complied, and filled up the measure as
follows:—
To a form that is faultless, a face that must—please,
Is added a restless desire to—tease;
O, how my hard fate I should ever be—moan,
Could I but believe she’d be bone of my—bone!

Mr. Bogart, a young man of Albany, who died in 1826, at the age of twenty-
one, displayed astonishing facility in impromptu writing.
It was good-naturedly hinted on one occasion that his “impromptus” were
prepared beforehand, and he was asked if he would submit to the
application of a test of his poetic abilities. He promptly acceded, and a most
difficult one was immediately proposed.
Among his intimate friends were Col. J. B. Van Schaick and Charles Fenno
Hoffman, both of whom were present. Said Van Schaick, taking up a copy
of Byron, “The name of Lydia Kane” (a lady distinguished for her beauty
and cleverness, who died a few years ago, but who was then just blushing
into womanhood) “has in it the same number of letters as a stanza of Childe
Harold has lines: write them down in a column.” They were so written by
Bogart, Hoffman, and himself. “Now,” he continued, “I will open the poem
at random; and for the ends of the lines in Miss Lydia’s Acrostic shall be
used the words ending those of the verse on which my finger may rest.” The
stanza thus selected was this:—

And must they fall, the young, the proud, the brave,
To swell one bloated chief’s unwholesome reign?
No step between submission and a grave?
The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain?
And doth the Power that man adores ordain
Their doom, nor heed the suppliant’s appeal?
Is all that desperate valor acts in vain?
And counsel sage, and patriotic zeal,
The veteran’s skill, youth’s fire, and manhood’s heart of steel?

The following stanza was composed by Bogart within the succeeding ten
minutes,—the period fixed in a wager,—finished before his companions
had reached a fourth line, and read to them as here presented:[6]—
L ovely and loved, o’er the unconquered brave
Y our charms resistless, matchless girl, shall reign!
D ear as the mother holds her infant’s grave
I n Love’s own region, warm, romantic Spain!
A nd should your fate to court your steps ordain,
K ings would in vain to regal pomp appeal,
A nd lordly bishops kneel to you in vain,
N or valor’s fire, law’s power, nor churchman’s zeal
E ndure ’gainst love’s (time’s up!) untarnished steel.

The French also amuse themselves with bouts rimés retournés, in which the
rhymes are taken from some piece of poetry, but the order in which they
occur is reversed. The following example is from the album of a Parisian
lady of literary celebrity, the widow of one of the Crimean heroes. The
original poem is by Alfred de Musset, the retournés by Marshal Pelissier,
who improvised it at the lady’s request. In the translation which ensues, the
reversed rhymes are carefully preserved.

BY DE MUSSET.
Quand la fugitive espérance
Nous pousse le coude en passant,
Puis à tire d’ailes s’élance
Et se retourne en souriant,
Où va l’homme? où son cœur l’appelle;
L’hirondelle suit le zéphir,
Et moins légère est l’hirondelle
Que l’homme qui suit son désir.
Ah! fugitive enchanteresse,
Sais-tu seulement ton chemin?
Faut-il donc que le vieux destin
Ait une si jeune maîtresse!

BY PELISSIER, DUC DE MALAKOFF.
Pour chanter la jeune maîtresse
Que Musset donne au vieux destin,
J’ai trop parcouru de chemin
Sans atteindre l’enchanteresse;
Toujours vers cet ancien désir
J’ai tendu comme l’hirondelle,
Mais sans le secours du zéphir
Qui la porte où son cœur l’appelle.
Adieu, fantôme souriant,
Vers qui la jeunesse s’élance,
La raison me crie en passant;
Le souvenir vaut l’espérance.

TRANSLATION.
When Hope, a fugitive, retreating
Elbows us, as away she flies,
Then swift returns, another greeting
To offer us with laughing eyes.
Man goeth when his heart is speaking,
The swallows through the zephyrs dart,
And man, who’s every fancy seeking,
Hath yet a more inconstant heart.
Enchantress, fugitive, coquetting!
Know’st thou then true, alone, thy way?
Hath then stern Fate, so old and gray,
So young a mistress never fretting?

REVERSED RHYMES.
To sing the mistress, never fretting,
Musset gives Fate, so old and gray,
Too long I’ve travelled on my way,
And ne’er attained her dear coquetting.
To find that longing of the heart,
I’ve been, like yonder swallow, seeking,
Yet could not through the zephyrs dart,
Nor reach the wish the heart is speaking.
Adieu then, shade, with laughing eyes,
Towards whom youth ever sends its greeting;
Better, cries Reason, as she flies,
Remembrance now, than Hope retreating.

Among the eccentricities of literature may be classed Rhopalic verses,
which begin with a monosyllable and gradually increase the length of each
successive word. The name was suggested by the shape of Hercules’ club,
ῥόπαλον. Sometimes they run from the butt to the handle of the club. Take
as an example of each,—
Rem tibi confeci, doctissime, dulcisonoram.
Vectigalibus armamenta referre jubet Rex.

Emblematic Poetry.
A pair of scissors and a comb in verse.—Ben Jonson.

On their fair standards by the wind displayed,
Eggs, altars, wings, pipes, axes, were portrayed.—Scribleriad.

The quaint conceit of making verses assume grotesque shapes and devices, expressive of
the theme selected by the writer, appears to have been most fashionable during the
seventeenth century. Writers tortured their brains in order to torture their verses into all
sorts of fantastic forms, from a flowerpot to an obelisk, from a pin to a pyramid. Hearts
and fans and knots were chosen for love-songs; wineglasses, bottles, and casks for
Bacchanalian songs; pulpits, altars, and monuments for religious verses and epitaphs. Tom
Nash, according to Disraeli, says of Gabriel Harvey, that “he had writ verses in all kinds: in
form of a pair of gloves, a pair of spectacles, a pair of pot-hooks, &c.” Puttenham, in his
Art of Poesie, gives several odd specimens of poems in the form of lozenges, pillars,
triangles, &c. Butler says of Benlowes, “the excellently learned,” who was much renowned
for his literary freaks, “As for temples and pyramids in poetry, he has outdone all men that
way; for he has made a grid-iron and a frying-pan in verse, that, besides the likeness in
shape, the very tone and sound of the words did perfectly represent the noise made by
these utensils! When he was a captain, he made all the furniture of his horse, from the bit
to the crupper, the beaten poetry, every verse being fitted to the proportion of the thing,
with a moral allusion to the sense of the thing: as the bridle of moderation, the saddle of
content, and the crupper of constancy; so that the same thing was the epigram and emblem,
even as a mule is both horse and ass.” Mr. Alger tells us that the Oriental poets are fond of
arranging their poems in the form of drums, swords, circles, crescents, trees, &c., and that
the Alexandrian rhetoricians used to amuse themselves by writing their satires and
invectives in the shape of an axe or a spear. He gives the following erotic triplet, composed
by a Hindu poet, the first line representing a bow, the second its string, the third an arrow
aimed at the heart of the object of his passion:—

THE WINE GLASS.
Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow?
Who hath contentions? Who
hath wounds without cause?
Who hath redness of eyes?
They that tarry long at the
wine! They that go to
seek mixed wine. Look
not thou upon the
wine when it is red,
when it giveth its
color in the
CUP;
when it
moveth itself
aright.
At
the last
it biteth like a
serpent, and stingeth like an adder.

The following specimen of this affectation was written by George Wither, who lived from
1588 to 1677. It is called by Mr. Ellis a

RHOMBOIDAL DIRGE.
Farewell,
Sweet groves, to you!
You hills that highest dwell,
And all you humble vales, adieu!
You wanton brooks and solitary rocks,
My dear companions all, and you my tender flocks!
Farewell, my pipe! and all those pleasing songs whose moving strains
Delighted once the fairest nymphs that dance upon the plains.
You discontents, whose deep and over-deadly smart
Have without pity broke the truest heart,
Sighs, tears, and every sad annoy,
That erst did with me dwell,
And others joy,
Farewell!

The Christian monks of the Middle Ages, who amused themselves similarly, preferred for
their hymns the form of

THE CROSS.
Blest they who seek,
While in their youth,
With spirit meek,
The way of truth.
To them the Sacred Scriptures now display,
Christ as the only true and living way:
His precious blood on Calvary was given
To make them heirs of endless bliss in heaven.
And e’en on earth the child of God can trace
The glorious blessings of his Saviour’s face.
For them He bore
His Father’s frown,
For them He wore
The thorny crown;
Nailed to the cross,
Endured its pain,
That his life’s loss
Might be their gain.
Then haste to choose
That better part—
Nor dare refuse
The Lord your heart,
Lest He declare,—
“I know you not;”
And deep despair
Shall be your lot.
Now look to Jesus who on Calvary died,
And trust on Him alone who there was crucified.

A CURIOUS PIECE OF ANTIQUITY, ON THE CRUCIFIXION OF OUR
SAVIOUR AND THE TWO THIEVES.
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
◊ INRI ◊
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
◊ My God! My God! vers of my tears ◊
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
I come to Thee; ◊ ◊ bow down thy blessed ears
To hear me wretch, oh, ◊ ◊ let thine eyes, which sleep
Did never close, ◊ ◊ behold a sinner weep.
Let not, O God! ◊ ◊ my God! my faults, though gre
And numberless, bet ◊ w ◊ een thy mercy-seat
And my poor soul be t ◊ h ◊ rown, since we are taught,
◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊ ◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊ ◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊
Thou, ◊ Lord! remember ◊ est th ◊ y ◊ ne, ◊ if thou beest
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊ ◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊
I co ◊ me ◊ not, Lord wit ◊ h ◊ any o ◊ the ◊ r m
Then ◊ wh ◊ at I by my S ◊ a ◊ viour ◊ Ch ◊ ris
Be th ◊ en ◊ his wound ◊ s ◊ my balm, his st ◊ ri ◊ pes
My crown his ◊ th ◊ orns, my dea ◊ t ◊ h be lo ◊ st ◊ in
And th ◊ ou ◊ my bles ◊ t ◊ Redeemer, ◊ Sa ◊ vio
Quit my ac ◊ co ◊ unts, with ◊ h ◊ old thy ◊ v ◊ eng
O beg for ◊ me ◊ my h ◊ o ◊ pes on the ◊ e ◊ are
Thou Chri ◊ st ◊ forgi ◊ v ◊ e, as well as pay ◊ th ◊ e d
The liv ◊ in ◊ g fount, the li ◊ f ◊ e, the wa ◊ y ◊ I k
And but ◊ to ◊ thee ◊ o ◊ whither ◊ s ◊ hou
All o ◊ th ◊ er helps a ◊ r ◊ e vain, giv ◊ e ◊ thi
For by th ◊ y ◊ cross my ◊ s ◊ aving hea ◊ l ◊ th
Oh hear ◊ k ◊ en then, wh ◊ a ◊ t I with ◊ f ◊ ait
Lest s ◊ in ◊ and death sin ◊ k ◊ me forev ◊ e ◊ r m
Oh Lord! my ◊ G ◊ od! my way ◊ e ◊ s direct ◊ a ◊ nd
In ◊ d ◊ eath defe ◊ n ◊ d that from thee I ◊ n ◊ e’e
And at the do ◊ om ◊ let ◊ m ◊ e be raise ◊ d ◊ the
To liv ◊ e ◊ with the ◊ e. ◊ Sweet Jes ◊ us ◊ say
◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊

EXPLANATION.

The middle cross represents our Saviour; those on either side, the two thieves. On the top
and down the middle cross are our Saviour’s expression, “My God! My God! why hast
thou forsaken me?” and on the top of the cross is the Latin inscription, “INRI”—Jesus
Nazarenus Rex Judæorum, i.e. Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. Upon the cross on the
right-hand is the prayer of one of the thieves:—“Lord! remember me when thou comest
into thy kingdom.” On the left-hand cross is the saying, or reproach, of the other:—“If thou
beest the Christ, save thyself and us.” The whole, comprised together, makes a piece of
excellent poetry, which is to be read across all the columns, and makes as many lines as

there are letters in the alphabet. It is perhaps one of the most curious pieces of composition
to be found on record.

INGENIOUS CYPHER
The following was written by Prof. Whewell at the request of a young lady:—
U 0 a 0 but I 0 U,
O 0 no 0 but O 0 me;
O let not my 0 a 0 go.
But give 0 0 I 0 U so.

Thus de-cyphered:

(You sigh for a cypher, but I sigh for you;
O sigh for no cypher, but O sigh for me:
O let not my sigh for a cypher go,
But give sigh for sigh, for I sigh for you so.)

TYPOGRAPHICAL.

We once saw a young man gazing at the *ry heavens, with a † in 1 ☞ and a ︷ of pistols in
the other. We endeavored to attract his attention by .ing to a ¶ in a paper we held in our ☞,
relating 2 a young man in that § of the country, who had left home in a state of mental
derangement. He dropped the † and pistols from his ☞☜ with the !
“It is I of whom U read. I left home be4 my friends knew of my design. I had s0 the ☞ of a
girl who refused 2 lis10 2 me, but smiled b9nly on another. I ——ed madly from the
house, uttering a wild ’ 2 the god of love, and without replying 2 the ??? of my friends,
came here with this † & ︷ of pistols, 2 put a . 2 my existence. My case has no || in this §.”

OXFORD JOKE.

A gentleman entered the room of Dr. Barton, Warden of Merton College, and told him that
Dr. Vowel was dead. “What!” said he, “Dr. Vowel dead! well, thank heaven it was neither
U nor I.”

In an old church in Westchester county, N. Y., the following consonants are written beside
the altar, under the Ten Commandments. What vowel is to be placed between them, to
make sense and rhyme of the couplet?
P. R. S. V. R. Y. P. R. F. C. T. M. N.
V. R. K. P. T. H. S. P. R. C. P. T. S. T. N.

ESSAY TO MISS CATHARINE JAY.
An S A now I mean 2 write
2 U sweet K T J,
The girl without a ||,
The belle of U T K.

I 1 der if U got that 1
I wrote 2 U B 4
I sailed in the R K D A,
And sent by L N Moore.

My M T head will scarce contain
A calm I D A bright
But A T miles from U I must
M︷ this chance 2 write.

And 1st, should N E N V U,
B E Z, mind it not,
Should N E friendship show, B true;
They should not B forgot

From virt U nev R D V 8;
Her influence B 9
A like induces 10 dern S,
Or 40 tude D vine.

And if U cannot cut a ——
Or cut an !
I hope U’ll put a .
2 1 ?.

R U for an X ation 2,
My cous N?—heart and ☞
He off R’s in a ¶
A § 2 of land.

He says he loves U 2 X S,
U R virtuous and Y’s,
In X L N C U X L
All others in his i’s.

This S A, until U I C,
I pray U 2 X Q’s,
And do not burn in F E G
My young and wayward muse.

Now fare U well, dear K T J,
I trust that U R true—
When this U C, then you can say,
An S A I O U.

Monosyllables.
“And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.”

Some of our best writers have very properly taken exception to the above
line in Pope’s Essay on Criticism, and have shown, by reference to
abundant examples, that many of the finest passages in our language are
nearly, if not altogether, monosyllabic. Indeed, it could not well be
otherwise, if it be true that, as Dean Swift has remarked, the English
language is “overstocked with monosyllables.” It contains more than five
hundred formed by the vowel a alone; four hundred and fifty by the vowel
e; nearly four hundred by the vowel i; more than four hundred by the vowel
o; and two hundred and sixty by the vowel u; besides a large number
formed by diphthongs. Floy has written a lengthy and very ingenious
article, entirely in monosyllables, in which he undertakes, as he says, to
“prove that short words, in spite of the sneer in the text, need not creep, nor
be dull, but that they give strength, and life, and fire to the verse of those
who know how to use them.”
Pope himself, however, has confuted his own words by his admirable
writings more effectively than could be done by labored argument. Many of
the best lines in the Essay above referred to, as well as in the Essay on Man,
—and there are few “dull” or “creeping” verses to be found in either,—are
made up entirely of monosyllables, or contain but one word of greater
length, or a contracted word pronounced as one syllable. The Universal
Prayer—one of the most beautiful and elaborate pieces, both in sentiment
and versification, ever produced in any language—contains three hundred
and four words, of which there are two hundred and forty-nine
monosyllables to fifty-five polysyllables, thus averaging but one of the
latter to every line. A single stanza is appended as a specimen:—

If I am right, thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart
To find that better way!

Rogers, conversing on this subject, cited two lines from Eloisa to Abelard,
which he declared could not possibly be improved:—
Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press’d;
Give all thou canst—and let me dream the rest.

Among the illustrations employed by Floy, are numerous selections from
the hymnology in common congregational use, such as the following:—
Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
To praise thy name, give thanks, and sing;
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.—Watts.

Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace
To help me on to God?—Watts.

Save me from death; from hell set free;
Death, hell, are but the want of thee:
My life, my only heav’n thou art,—
O might I feel thee in my heart!—C. Wesley.

The same writer, to show Shakspeare’s fondness for small words, and their
frequent subservience to some of his most masterly efforts, enters upon a
monosyllabic analysis of King Lear, quoting from it freely throughout.
Those who read the play with reference to this point will be struck with the
remarkable number of forcible passages made up of words of one syllable:
—
Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air,
We wawl and cry: I will preach to thee; mark me.
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools.—This a good block?—Act IV. Sc. 6.

The following occurs in the play of King John, where the King is pausing in
his wish to incite Hubert to murder Arthur:—

Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet;
But thou shalt have; and creep time ne’er so slow,
Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say.—But let it go.—Act III. Sc. 3.

But who I was, or where, or from what cause,
Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake
——Thou sun, said I, fair light,
And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay,
Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell, if ye saw how I came thus, how here?—
Tell me, how may I know Him, how adore,
From whom I have that thus I move and live?—Paradise Lost, B. VIII.

Herrick says, in his address to the daffodils:—
We have short time to stay as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you or any thing.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Like to the rain,
Or as the pearls of dew.

Now I am here, what thou wilt do for me,
None of my books will show;
I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree,
For sure I then should grow
To fruit or shade: at least some bird might trust
Her household to me, and I should be just.—George Herbert.

Thou who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere.—Keble.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
Save by its loss; to give it then a tongue
Were wise in man.—Young.

Ah, yes! the hour is come
When thou must haste thee home,
Pure soul! to Him who calls.
The God who gave thee breath
Walks by the side of death,
And naught that step appalls.—Landor.

New light new love, new love new life hath bred;
A life that lives by love, and loves by light;
A love to Him to whom all loves are wed;
A light to whom the sun is darkest night:
Eye’s light, heart’s love, soul’s only life, He is;
Life, soul, love, heart, light, eyes, and all are His;
He eye, light, heart, love, soul; He all my joy and bliss.—
Fletcher’s Purple Island.

Bailey’s Festus, that extraordinary poem the perusal of which makes the
reader feel as if he had “eaten of the insane root that takes the reason
prisoner,” abounds with examples:—
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths:
Though many, yet they help not; bright, they light not.
They are too late to serve us; and sad things
Are aye too true. We never see the stars
Till we can see naught but them. So with truth.
And yet if one would look down a deep well,
Even at noon, we might see those same stars——

Life’s more than breath, and the quick round of blood—
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths—
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most—feels the noblest—acts the best.
Life’s but a means unto an end—

Helen (sings.) Oh! love is like the rose,
And a month it may not see,
Ere it withers where it grows—
Rosalie!

I loved thee from afar;
Oh! my heart was lift to thee
Like a glass up to a star—
Rosalie!

Thine eye was glassed in mine
As the moon is in the sea,
And its shine is on the brine—
Rosalie!

The rose hath lost its red,
And the star is in the sea,
And the briny tear is shed—
Rosalie!

Festus. What the stars are to the night, my love,
What its pearls are to the sea,
What the dew is to the day, my love,
Thy beauty is to me.

We may say that the sun is dead, and gone
Forever; and may swear he will rise no more;
The skies may put on mourning for their God,
And earth heap ashes on her head; but who
Shall keep the sun back when he thinks to rise?
Where is the chain shall bind him? Where the cell
Shall hold him? Hell he would burn down to embers,
And would lift up the world with a lever of light
Out of his way: yet, know ye, ’twere thrice less
To do thrice this, than keep the soul from God.

Many of the most expressive sentences in the Bible are monosyllabic. A few
are subjoined, selected at random:—
And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good.—Gen.
I.
At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down: at her feet he bowed, he fell: where he bowed, there he
fell down dead.—Judges V.
O Lord my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul
from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. Sing unto the Lord, O ye
saints of his, and give thanks.—Psalm XXX.
And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live?—Ezek. XXXVII.
Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.—1 Thess. V.

For if we be dead with him, we shall also live with him.—2 Tim. II.
For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?—Rev. VI.
And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day; for there shall be no night there.—Rev. XXI.

THE POWER OF SHORT WORDS.
Think not that strength lies in the big round word,
Or that the brief and plain must needs be weak.
To whom can this be true who once has heard
The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak,
When want or woe or fear is in the throat,
So that each word gasped out is like a shriek
Pressed from the sore heart, or a strange wild note,
Sung by some fay or fiend? There is a strength
Which dies if stretched too far or spun too fine,
Which has more height than breadth, more depth than length.
Let but this force of thought and speech be mine,
And he that will may take the sleek fat phrase
Which glows and burns not, though it gleam and shine—
Light, but no heat—a flash, but not a blaze!

Nor is it mere strength that the short word boasts:
It serves of more than fight or storm to tell,
The roar of waves that clash on rock-bound coasts,
The crash of tall trees when the wild winds swell,
The roar of guns, the groans of men that die
On blood-stained fields. It has a voice as well
For them that far off on their sick-beds lie;
For them that weep, for them that mourn the dead;
For them that laugh and dance and clap the hand;
To joy’s quick step, as well as grief’s slow tread,
The sweet, plain words we learnt at first keep time,
And though the theme be sad, or gay, or grand,
With each, with all, these may be made to chime,
In thought, or speech, or song, in prose or rhyme.
Dr. Alexander, Princeton Magazine.

The Bible.
God’s cabinet of revealed counsel ’tis,
Where weal and woe are ordered so
That every man may know which shall be his;
Unless his own mistake false application make.

It is the index to eternity.
He cannot miss of endless bliss,
That takes this chart to steer by,
Nor can he be mistook, that speaketh by this book.

It is the book of God. What if I should
Say, God of books, let him that looks
Angry at that expression, as too bold,
His thoughts in silence smother, till he find such another.

ACCURACY OF THE BIBLE.

One of the most remarkable results of modern research is the confirmation
of the accuracy of the historical books of the Old Testament. The ruins of
Babylon and Nineveh shed a light on those books which no skepticism can
invalidate. What surprises us most is their marvellous accuracy in minute
details, which are now substantiated by recent discoveries. The fact seems
to be that when writing was laboriously performed on stone, men had an
almost superstitious conscientiousness in making their records true, and had
not learned the modern indifference to truth which our facile modes of
communicating thought have encouraged. A statement to be chiselled on
rock must be correct; a statement which can be written in five minutes is
likely to embody only first impressions, which may be amended in five
minutes thereafter. Hence it comes to pass that we know more exactly many
things which took place in the wars between Sennacherib and Hezekiah,
than we know what is the precise truth with regard to some of the
occurrences in the battle of Bunker’s Hill. Sir Henry Rawlinson, speaking
of his researches in Babylon, states that the name and situation of every
town of note in ancient Assyria, mentioned in the Bible, can be
substantiated by the ruins of that city. The visit of the Queen of Sheba to
Solomon is perfectly verified. The prosecution of the researches will be
regarded with great interest as corroborating the truth of Scripture.
An astonishing feature of the word of God is, notwithstanding the time at
which its compositions were written, and the multitude of the topics to
which it alludes, there is not one physical error,—not one assertion or
allusion disproved by the progress of modern science. None of those
mistakes which the science of each succeeding age discovered in the books
preceding; above all, none of those absurdities which modern astronomy
indicates in such great numbers in the writings of the ancients,—in their
sacred codes, in their philosophy, and even in the finest pages of the fathers
of the Church,—not one of these errors is to be found in any of our sacred
books. Nothing there will ever contradict that which, after so many ages,
the investigations of the learned world have been able to reveal to us on the
state of our globe, or on that of the heavens. Peruse with care the Scriptures
from one end to the other, to find such blemishes, and, whilst you apply

yourselves to this examination, remember that it is a book which speaks of
every thing, which describes nature, which recites its creation, which tells
us of the water, of the atmosphere, of the mountains, of the animals, and of
the plants. It is a book which teaches us the first revolutions of the world,
and which also foretells its last. It recounts them in the circumstantial
language of history, it extols them in the sublimest strains of poetry, and it
chants them in the charms of glowing song. It is a book which is full of
Oriental rapture, elevation, variety, and boldness. It is a book which speaks
of the heavenly and invisible world, whilst it also speaks of the earth and
things visible. It is a book which nearly fifty writers, of every degree of
cultivation, of every state, of every condition, and living through the course
of fifteen hundred years, have concurred to make. It is a book which was
written in the centre of Asia, in the sands of Arabia, in the deserts of Judea,
in the court of the Temple of the Jews, in the music-schools of the prophets
of Bethel and Jericho, in the sumptuous palaces of Babylon, and on the
idolatrous banks of Chebar; and finally, in the centre of Western
civilization, in the midst of the Jews and of their ignorance, in the midst of
polytheism and its sad philosophy. It is a book whose first writer had been
forty years a pupil of the magicians of Egypt, in whose opinion the sun, the
stars, and elements were endowed with intelligence, reacted on the
elements, and governed the world by a perpetual illuvium. It is a book
whose first writer preceded, by more than nine hundred years, the most
ancient philosophers of ancient Greece and Asia,—the Thaleses, and the
Pythagorases, the Zaleucuses, the Xenophons, and the Confuciuses. It is a
book which carries its narrations even to the hierarchies of angels—even to
the most distant epochs of the future, and the glorious scenes of the last day.
Well: search among its fifty authors, search among its sixty-six books, its
eleven hundred and eighty-nine chapters, and its thirty-one thousand one
hundred and seventy-three verses; search for only one of those thousand
errors which the ancients and moderns have committed in speaking of the
heavens or of the earth—of their revolutions, of their elements; search—but
you will find none.

THE TESTIMONY OF LEARNED MEN.
Sir William Jones’ opinion of the Bible was written on the last leaf of one
belonging to him, in these terms:—“I have regularly and attentively read
these Holy Scriptures, and am of opinion that this volume, independently of
its Divine origin, contains more sublimity and beauty, more pure morality,
more important history and finer strains of poetry and eloquence, than can
be collected from all other books, in whatever age or language they may
have been composed.”
Rousseau says, “This Divine Book, the only one which is indispensable to
the Christian, need only be read with reflection to inspire love for its author,
and the most ardent desire to obey its precepts. Never did virtue speak so
sweet a language; never was the most profound wisdom expressed with so
much energy and simplicity. No one can arise from its perusal without
feeling himself better than he was before.”
Wilberforce, in his dying hour, said to a friend, “Read the Bible. Let no
religious book take its place. Through all my perplexities and distresses, I
never read any other book, and I never knew the want of any other. It has
been my hourly study; and all my knowledge of the doctrines, and all my
acquaintance with the experience and realities, of religion, have been
derived from the Bible only. I think religious people do not read the Bible
enough. Books about religion may be useful enough, but they will not do
instead of the simple truth of the Bible.”
Lord Bolingbroke declared that “the Gospel is, in all cases, one continued
lesson of the strictest morality, of justice, of benevolence, and of universal
charity.”
Similar testimony has been accorded in the strongest terms by Locke,
Newton, Boyle, Selden, Salmasius, Sir Walter Scott, and numberless
others.
Daniel Webster, having been commended for his eloquence on a
memorable occasion, replied, “If any thing I have ever said or written
deserves the feeblest encomiums of my fellow-countrymen, I have no
hesitation in declaring that for their partiality I am indebted, solely

indebted, to the daily and attentive perusal of the Holy Scriptures, the
source of all true poetry and eloquence, as well as of all good and all
comfort.”
John Quincy Adams, in a letter to his son in 1811, says, “I have for many
years made it a practice to read through the Bible once every year. My
custom is to read four or five chapters every morning, immediately after
rising from my bed. It employs about an hour of my time, and seems to me
the most suitable manner of beginning the day. In whatsoever light we
regard the Bible, whether with reference to revelation, to history, or to
morality, it is an invaluable and inexhaustible mine of knowledge and
virtue.”
Addison says, in relation to the poetry of the Bible, “After perusing the
Book of Psalms, let a judge of the beauties of poetry read a literal
translation of Horace or Pindar, and he will find in these two last such an
absurdity and confusion of style, with such a comparative poverty of
imagination, as will make him sensible of the vast superiority of Scripture
style.”
Lord Byron, in a letter to Mrs. Sheppard, said, in reference to the truth of
Christianity, “Indisputably, the firm believers in the Gospel have a great
advantage over all others, for this simple reason:—that, if true, they will
have their reward hereafter; and if there be no hereafter, they can be but
with the infidel in his eternal sleep, having had the assistance of an exalted
hope through life, without subsequent disappointment, since (at the worst,
for them) out of nothing nothing can arise,—not even sorrow.” The
following lines of Walter Scott are said to have been copied in his Bible:—
Within this awful volume lies
The mystery of mysteries.
Oh! happiest they of human race,
To whom our God has given grace
To hear, to read, to fear, to pray,
To lift the latch, and force the way;
But better had they ne’er been born,
Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.—Monastery.

ENGLISH BIBLE TRANSLATIONS.
Our version of the Bible is to be loved and prized for this, as for a thousand other things,—that it has
preserved a purity of meaning to many terms of natural objects. Without this holdfast, our vitiated
imaginations would refine away language to mere abstractions. Hence the French have lost their
poetical language; and Blanco White says the same thing has happened to the Spanish.—Coleridge.

Wickliffe’s Bible.—This was the first translation made into the language. It
was translated by John Wickliffe, about the year 1384, but never printed,
though there are manuscript copies of it in several public libraries.
Tyndale’s Bible.—The translation of William Tyndale, assisted by Miles
Coverdale, was the first printed Bible in the English language. The New
Testament was published in 1526. It was revised and republished in 1530.
In 1532, Tyndale and his associates finished the whole Bible, except the
Apocrypha, and printed it abroad.
Matthews’ Bible.—While Tyndale was preparing a second edition of the
Bible, he was taken up and burned for heresy in Flanders. On his death,
Coverdale and John Rogers revised it, and added a translation of the
Apocrypha. It was dedicated to Henry VIII., in 1537, and was printed at
Hamburg, under the borrowed name of Thomas Matthews, whence it was
called Matthews’ Bible.
Cranmer’s Bible.—This was the first Bible printed by authority in England,
and publicly set up in the churches. It was Tyndale’s version, revised by
Coverdale, and examined by Cranmer, who added a preface to it, whence it
was called Cranmer’s Bible. It was printed by Grafton, in large folio, in
1539. After being adopted, suppressed, and restored under successive
reigns, a new edition was brought out in 1562.
The Geneva Bible.—In 1557, the whole Bible in quarto was printed at
Geneva by Rowland Harte, some of the English refugees continuing in that
city solely for that purpose. The translators were Bishop Coverdale,
Anthony Gilby, William Whittingham, Christopher Woodman, Thomas
Sampson, and Thomas Cole—to whom some add John Knox, John
Bodleigh, and John Pullain, all zealous Calvinists, both in doctrine and
discipline. But the chief and most learned of them were the first three. Of
this translation there were about thirty editions, mostly printed by the

King’s and Queen’s printers, from 1560 to 1616. In this version, the first
distinction in verses was made. The following is a copy of the title-page of
the edition of 1559, omitting two quotations from the Scriptures:—
THE BIBLE.
THAT IS. THE HO-
LY SCRIPTURES CONTEI-
NED IN THE OLDE AND NEWE
TESTAMENT.
Translated According
to the Ebrew and Greeke, and conferred with the
best translations in divers languages.
With most profitable Annotations vpon all the hard
places,
and other things of Great importance.
IMPRINTED AT LONDON
by the Deputies of Christopher Barker, Printer to the
Queenes most excellent Maiestie,
1599.
Cum priuilegio.

To some editions of the Geneva Bible, one of which is this of 1599, is
subjoined Beza’s translation of the new text into English by L. Tomson,
who was under-secretary to Sir Francis Walsingham. But, though he
pretends to translate from Beza, he has seldom varied a word from the
Geneva translation. Dr. Geddes gives honorable testimony to the last
Geneva version, as he does not hesitate to declare that he thinks it in general
better than that of the King James translators. Our readers will hardly agree
with him when they read some extracts from it appended in a succeeding
paragraph.
The typographical appearance of this work is quite a curiosity. Like most of
the old books, it is well printed, and is ornamented with the pen. The head
and foot rules, as well as the division of the columns, are made with the pen
in red ink. The title-page is quite profusely ornamented with red lines.
This translation of the Bible is known as “the breeches Bible,” from the
following rendering of Genesis iii. 7:—
Then the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig
tree leaves together, and made themselves breeches.

A peculiarity in this Bible is the substitution of the letter v for u, and, vice
versa, u for v. The name of Eve is printed Heuah (Hevah); Cain is printed

Kain; Abel, Habel; Enoch, Henock; Isaac, Ishak; Hebrew, Ebrew, &c. The
translations of many of the passages differ materially from our received
version. The following will serve as illustrations:—
Thus he cast out man; and at the East side of the garden of Eden he set the cherubims, and the blade
of a sword shaken, to keep the way of the tree of life.—Genesis iii. 24.
Then it repented the Lorde that he had made man in the earth, and he was sorie in his heart.—Gen. vi.
6.
Make thee an Arkee of pine trees; thou shalt make cabins in the Arkee, and shalt pitch it within and
without with pitch. Thou shalt make it with the lower, second and third roome.—Gen. vi. 14, 10.
And he said, Hagar, Sarais maide, whence comest thou? & whether wilt thou go? and she said, I flee
from my dame Sarai.—Gen. xvi. 8.
When Abram was ninetie years old & nine, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am God
all sufficient, walke before me, and be thou upright.—Gen. xvii. 1.
Then Abraham rose vp from the sight of his corps, and talked with the Hittites, saying, I am a
stranger and a forreiner among you, &c.—Gen. xxiii. 3, 4.
Then Abraham yielded the spirit and died in a good age, an olde man, and of great yeeres, and was
gathered to his people.—Gen. xxv. 8.
As many were astonied at thee (his visage was so deformed of men, and his forme of the sonnes of
men) so shall hee spunckle many nations.—Isa. lii. 14. This chapter has but fourteen verses in it.
Can the blacke Moore change his skinne? or the leopard his spots?—Jer. xiii. 23.
And after those days we trussed up our fardles, and went up to Jerusalem.—Acts xxi. 15.
But Jesus sayde vnto her, Let the children first bee fed; for it is not good to take the childrens bread,
and to cast it unto whelps. Then shee answered, and said unto him, Truthe, Lorde; yet in deede the
whelps eate under the table of the childrens crummes.—Mark vii. 27, 28.
And she broght forth her fyrst begotten sonne, and wrapped him in swadlyng clothes, and layd him in
a cretche, bccause there was no rowme for them with in the ynne.—Luke ii. 7.

The Bishops’ Bible.—Archbishop Parker engaged bishops and other learned
men to bring out a new translation. They did so in 1568, in large folio. It
made what was afterwards called the great English Bible, and commonly
the Bishops’ Bible. In 1589 it was published in octavo, in small, but fine
black letter. In it the chapters were divided into verses, but without any
breaks for them.
Matthew Parker’s Bible.—The Bishops’ Bible underwent some corrections,
and was printed in large folio in 1572, and called Matthew Parker’s Bible.
The version was used in the churches for forty years.
The Douay Bible.—The New Testament was brought out by the Roman
Catholics in 1582, and called the Rhemish New Testament. It was
condemned by the Queen of England, and copies were seized by her

authority and destroyed. In 1609 and 1610, the Old Testament was added,
and the whole published at Douay, hence called the Douay Bible.
King James’s Bible.—The version now in use was brought out by King
James’s authority in 1611. Fifty-four learned men were employed to
accomplish the work of revising it. From death or other cause, seven of
them failed to enter upon it. The remaining forty-seven were ranged under
six divisions, and had different portions of the Bible assigned to those
divisions. They commenced their task in 1607. After some three or four
years of diligent labor, the whole was completed. This version was
generally adopted, and the other translations fell into disuse. It has
continued in use until the present time.

DISSECTION OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS.
Books in the Old Testament 39 In the New 27 Total 66
Chapters 929 In the New 260 Total 1,189
Verses 23,214 In the New 7,959 Total 31,173
Words 592,439 In the New 181,253 Total 773,692
Letters 2,728,100 In the New 838,380 Total 3,566,480

APOCRYPHA.

Chapters 183 Verses 6,081 Words 152,185

The middle chapter and the least in the Bible is Psalm cxvii.
The middle verse is the eighth of Psalm cxviii.
The middle line is in 2d Chronicles, 4th chapter, 16th verse.
The word and occurs in the Old Testament 35,543 times.
The same in the New Testament, 10,684.
The word Jehovah occurs 6,855 times.

OLD TESTAMENT.

The middle book is Proverbs.
The middle chapter is Job xxix.
The middle verse is in 2d Chronicles, 20th chapter, between the 17th and
18th verses.
The least verse is in 1st Chronicles, 1st chapter, and 25th verse.

NEW TESTAMENT.

The middle book is the 2d epistle to Thessalonians.
The middle chapter is between the 13th and 14th of Romans.
The middle verse is the 17th chapter of Acts, and 17th verse.
The least verse is the 11th chapter of John, verse 35.

The 21st verse of the 7th chapter of Ezra has all the letters of the alphabet in
it.
The 19th chapter of the 2d book of Kings, and the 37th of Isaiah, are alike.

N.B.—Three years are said to have been spent in this curious but idle
calculation.

DISTINCTIONS IN THE GOSPELS.
1. In regard to their external features and characteristics:
The point of view of the first gospel is mainly Israelitic; of the second,
Gentile; of the third, universal; of the fourth, Christian.
The general aspect, and so to speak, physiognomy of the first, mainly, is
oriental; of the second, Roman; of the third, Greek; of the fourth, spiritual.
The style of the first is stately and rhythmical; of the second, terse and
precise; of the third, calm and copious; of the fourth, artless and colloquial.
The striking characteristic of the first is symmetry; of the second
compression; of the third, order; of the fourth, system.
The thought and language of the first are both Hebraistic; of the third, both
Hellenistic; while in the second, thought is often accidental though the
language is Hebraistic; and in the fourth, the language is Hellenistic, but the
thought Hebraistic.
2. In respect to their subject-matter and contents:
In the first gospel, narrative; in the second, memoirs; in the third, history; in
the fourth, dramatic portraiture.
In the first we often have the record of events in their accomplishment; in
the second, events in detail; in the third, events in their connection; in the
fourth, events in relation to the teaching springing from them.
Thus in the first we often meet with the notice of impressions; in the
second, of facts; in the third, of motives; in the fourth, of words spoken.
And, lastly, the record of the first is mainly collective, and often
antithetical; of the second, graphic and circumstantial; of the third, didactic
and reflective; of the fourth, selective and supplemental.
3. In respect to their portraiture of our Lord:
The first presents him to us mainly as the Messiah; the second, mainly as
the God-man; the third, as the Redeemer; the fourth, as the only begotten
Son of God.

BOOKS MENTIONED IN THE BIBLE NOW LOST OR
UNKNOWN.
1. The Prophecy of Enoch. See Epistle to Jude, 14.
2. The Book of the Wars of the Lord. See Numb. xxi. 14.
3. The Prophetical Gospel of Eve, which relates to the Amours of the Sons
of God with the Daughters of Men. See Origen cont. Celsum, Tertul. &c.
4. The Book of Jasher. See Joshua x. 13; and 2 Samuel i. 18.
5. The Book of Iddo the Seer. See 2 Chronicles ix. 29, and xii. 15.
6. The Book of Nathan the Prophet. See as above.
7. The Prophecies of Ahijah, the Shilonite. See as above.
8. The acts of Rehoboam, in Book of Shemaiah. See 2 Chronicles xii. 15.
9. The Book of Jehu the Son of Hanani. See 2 Chronicles xx. 34.
10. The Five Books of Solomon, treating on the nature of trees, beasts,
fowl, serpents, and fishes. See 1 Kings iv. 33.
11. The 151st Psalm.

THE WORD “SELAH.”

The translators of the Bible have left the Hebrew word Selah, which occurs
so often in the Psalms, as they found it, and of course the English reader
often asks his minister, or some learned friend, what it means. And the
minister or learned friend has most often been obliged to confess ignorance,
because it is a matter in regard to which the most learned have by no means
been of one mind. The Targums, and most of the Jewish commentators, give
to the word the meaning of eternally forever. Rabbi Kimchi regards it as a
sign to elevate the voice. The authors of the Septuagint translation appear to
have considered it a musical or rhythmical note. Herder inclines to the
opinion that it indicates a change of tone, which is expressed either by
increase of force, or by a transition into another time and mode. Matheson
thinks it is a musical note, equivalent, perhaps, to the word repeat.
According to Luther and others, it means silence. Gesenius explains it to
mean, “Let the instruments play and the singers stop.” Wocher regards it as
equivalent to sursum corda,—up, my soul! Sommer, after examining all the
seventy-four passages in which the word occurs, recognizes in every case
“an actual appeal or summons to Jehovah.” They are calls for aid, and
prayers to be heard, expressed either with entire directness, or if not in the
imperative, Hear, Jehovah! or Awake, Jehovah, and the like, still, earnest
addresses to God that he would remember and hear, &c. The word itself he
considers indicative of a blast of trumpets by the priests, Selah being an
abridged expression for Higgaion Selah,—Higgaion indicating the sound of
the stringed instruments, and Selah a vigorous blast of trumpets.

HEXAMETERS IN THE BIBLE.

In the Psalms.

Gōd cāme | ūp wĭth ă | shōut: ōur | Lōrd wĭth thĕ | sōund ŏf ă | trūmpēt.‖
Thēre ĭs ă | rīvĕr thĕ | flōwĭng whĕre- | ōf shāll | glāddĕn thĕ | cītȳ.‖
Hăllĕ- | lūjăh thĕ | cīty̆ ŏf | Gōd! Jē- | hōvăh hăth | blēst hēr.‖

In the New Testament.

Art thŏu hĕ | thāt shōuld | cōme, ōr | dō wē | loōk fŏr ă- | nōthēr?‖
Hūsbānds, | lōve yoūr | wīves, ānd | bē nōt | bīttĕr ă- | gāinst thēm.‖
Blēss’d ăre thĕ | pōor īn | spīrĭt, fŏr | thēirs ĭs thĕ | kĭngdŏm ŏf | hēavēn.‖

Mr. Coleridge, whose enthusiastic and reverential admiration of the
rhetorical beauty and poetic grandeur with which the Bible abounds,—all
the more beautiful and the more sublime because casual and unsought by
the sacred writers,—took great delight in pointing out the hexametrical
rhythm of numerous passages, particularly in the book of Isaiah:—
Hear, O heavens, and give ear, | O earth: for the Lord hath spoken.
I have nourished and brought up children, | and they have rebelled against me.
The ox knoweth his owner, | and the ass his master’s crib:
But Israel doth not know, | my people doth not consider.

Winer points out the following hexameters in the original Greek version of
the New Testament:—
Κρῆτες ἀ | εὶ ψεῦ | σται, κακἀ | θηρία | γαστέρες | ἀργαί.—Titus i. 12.

Πᾶσα δό | σις ἀγα | θὴ καὶ | πᾶν δώ | ρημα τέ | λειον,—James i. 17.

Καὶ τροχι | ὰς ὀρ | θὰς ποι | ήσατε | τοῖς ποσὶν | ὑμῶν,—Heb. xii 13.

PARALLELISM OF THE HEBREW POETRY.

The prominent characteristic of the Hebrew poetry is what Bishop Lowth
entitles Parallelism, that is, a certain equality, resemblance, or relationship,
between the members of each period; so that in two lines, or members of
the same period, things shall answer to things, and words to words, as if
fitted to each other by a kind of rule or measure. The Psalms, Proverbs,
Solomon’s Song, Job, and all the Prophets, except Daniel and Jonah,
abound with instances.
It is in a great measure owing to this form of composition that our
admirable authorized version, though executed in prose, retains so much of
a poetical cast; for, being strictly word for word after the original, the form
and order of the original sentences are preserved; which, by this artificial
structure, this regular alternation and correspondence of parts, makes the
ear sensible of a departure from the common style and tone of prose.
The different kinds of parallels are illustrated in the following examples:—

Parallels Antithetic.—Prov. x. 1, 7.

A wise son maketh a glad father;
But a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.
The memory of the just is blessed;
But the name of the wicked shall rot.

Parallels Synthetic.—Prov. vi. 16–19.

These six things doth the Lord hate;
Yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
A proud look, a lying tongue,
And hands that shed innocent blood,
A heart that deviseth wicked imaginations,
Feet that be swift in running to mischief,
A false witness that speaketh lies,
And he that soweth discord among brethren.

Constructive.—Psalm xix. 7–9.

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes;
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether.

Parallels Synonymous.—Psalm xx. 1–4.

The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble;
The name of the God of Jacob defend thee;
Send thee help from the sanctuary,
And strengthen thee out of Zion;
Remember all thine offerings,
And accept thy burnt sacrifice;
Grant thee according to thine own heart,
And fulfil all thy counsel.

Gradational.—Psalm i. 1.

Blessed is the man
That walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly,
Nor standeth in the way of sinners,
Nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

Parallels Introverted.—Prov. xxiii. 15, 16.

My son, if thy heart be wise,
My heart shall rejoice, even mine;
Yea, my reins shall rejoice
When thy lips speak right things.

It may be objected to Hebrew poetry, says Gilfillan, that it has no regular
rhythm except a rude parallelism. What then? Must it be, therefore,
altogether destitute of music? Has not the rain a rhythm of its own, as it
patters on the pane, or sinks on the bosom of its kindred pool? Has not the

wind a harmony, as it bows the groaning woods, or howls over the
mansions of the dead? Have not the waves of ocean their wild bass? Has
not the thunder its own deep and dreadful organ-pipe? Do they speak in
rhyme? Do they murmur in blank verse? Who taught them to begin in
Iambics, or to close in Alexandrines? And shall not God’s own speech have
a peculiar note, no more barbarous than is the voice of the old woods or the
older cataracts?
Besides, to call parallelism a coarse or uncouth rhythm, betrays an
ignorance of its nature. Without entering at large on the subject of Hebrew
versification, we may ask any one who has paid even a slight attention to
the subject, if the effect of parallels such as the foregoing examples,
perpetually intermingled as they are, be not to enliven the composition,
often to give distinctness and precision to the train of thought, to impress
the sentiments upon the memory, and to give out a harmony which, if
inferior to rhyme in the compression produced by the difficulty
(surmounted) of uniting varied sense with recurring sound, and in the
pleasure of surprise; and to blank verse, in freedom, in the effects produced
by the variety of pause, and in the force of long and linked passages, as well
as of insulated lines, is less slavish than the one, and less arbitrary than the
other? Unlike rhyme, its point is more that of thought than of language;
unlike blank verse, it never can, however managed, degenerate into heavy
prose. Such is parallelism, which generally forms the differential quality of
the poetry of Scripture, although there are many passages in it destitute of
this aid, and which yet, in the spirit they breathe, and the metaphors by
which they are garnished, are genuine and high poetry. And there can be
little question that in the parallelism of the Hebrew tongue we can trace
many of the peculiarities of modern writing, and in it find the fountain of
the rhythm, the pomp and antithesis, which lend often such grace, and
always such energy, to the style of Johnson, of Junius, of Burke, of Hall, of
Chalmers,—indeed, of most writers who rise to the grand swells of prose-
poetry.

SIMILARITY OF SOUND.

There is a remarkable similarity of sound in a passage in the Second Book
of Kings, ch. iii. v. 4, to the metrical rhythm of Campbell’s Battle of the
Baltic:—
A hundred thousand lambs,
And a hundred thousand rams,
With the wool.

By each gun the lighted brand,
In a bold determined hand,
And the Prince of all the land
Led them on.

PARALLEL PASSAGES BETWEEN SHAKSPEARE AND
THE BIBLE.

An English minister, Rev. T. R. Eaton, has written a work entitled
Shakspeare and the Bible, for the purpose of showing how much
Shakspeare was indebted to the Bible for many of his illustrations, rhythms,
and even modes of feeling. The author affirms that, in storing his mind, the
immortal bard went first to the word, and then to the works, of God. In
shaping the truths derived from these sources, he obeyed the instinct
implanted by Him who had formed him Shakspeare. Hence his power of
inspiring us with sublime affection for that which is properly good, and of
chilling us with horror by his fearful delineations of evil. Shakspeare
perpetually reminds us of the Bible, not by direct quotations, indirect
allusion, borrowed idioms, or palpable imitation of phrase or style, but by
an elevation of thought and simplicity of diction which are not to be found
elsewhere. A passage, for instance, rises in our thoughts, unaccompanied by
a clear recollection of its origin. Our first impression is that it must belong
either to the Bible or Shakspeare. No other author excites the same feeling
in an equal degree. In Shakspeare’s plays religion is a vital and active
principle, sustaining the good, tormenting the wicked, and influencing the
hearts and lives of all.
Although the writer carries his leading idea too far, by straining passages to
multiply the instances in which Shakspeare has imitated scriptural sentences
in thought and construction, and by leading his readers to infer that it was
from the Bible Shakspeare drew not only his best thoughts, but in fact his
whole power of inspiring us with affection for good and horror for evil, it is
certainly true that some hundreds of Biblical allusions, however brief and
simple, show Shakspeare’s conversance with the Bible, his fondness for it,
and the almost unconscious recurrence of it in his mind. The following
examples of his parallelisms will be found interesting:—
Othello.—Rude am I in my speech.—i. 3.
But though I be rude in speech.—2 Cor. xi. 6.
Witches.—Show his eyes and grieve his heart.—Macbeth, iv. 1.
Consume thine eyes and grieve thine heart.—1 Sam. ii. 33.

Macbeth.—Lighted fools the way to dusty death.—v. 5.
Thou hast brought me into the dust of death.—Ps. xxii. 15.

Dusty death alludes to the sentence pronounced against Adam:—
Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.—Gen. iii. 19.
Macbeth.—Life’s but a walking shadow.—v. 5.
Man walketh in a vain show.—Ps. xxxix. 6.
Prince of Morocco.—Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow’d livery of the burnished sun.—Merch. Ven. ii. 1.
Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me.—Sol. Song, i. 6.
Othello.—I took by the throat, the circumcised dog, and smote him.—v. 2.
I smote him, I caught him by his beard and smote him, and slew him.—1 Sam. xvii. 35.
Macbeth.—Let this pernicious hour stand aye accursed in the calendar.—iv. 1.
Opened Job his mouth and cursed his day; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not
come into the number of the months.—Job iii. 1, 6.
Hamlet.—What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties! In form
and moving, how express and admirable! In action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how
like a God! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!—ii. 2.
What is man, that thou art mindful of him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels,
and hast crowned him with glory and honor. Thou madest him to have dominion over the works
of thy hands.—Ps. viii. 4, 5, 6.
Macbeth.—We will die with harness on our back.—v. 5.
Nicanor lay dead in his harness.—2 Maccabees xv. 28.
Banquo.—Woe to the land that’s governed by a child.
Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child.—Eccles. x. 16.
Banquo.—In the great hand of God I stand.—Macbeth, ii. 3.
Thy right hand hath holden me up.—Ps. xviii. 35.
Man the image of his Maker.—Henry VIII., iii. 2.—Gen. I. 27.
Blessed are the peacemakers.—2 Henry VI., ii. 1.—Matt. V. 29.
And when he falls he falls like Lucifer.—Henry VIII., iii. 2.
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!—Isaiah xiv. 12.
No, Bolingbroke, if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the book of life.—Richard II., i. 3.
Whose names were not written in the book of life.—Rev. xx., xxi.
Swear by thy gracious self.—Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.
He could swear by no greater, he sware by himself.—Heb. vi. 13.
My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet.—2 Henry VI., ii. 3.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.—Ps. cxix. 105.

Who can call him his friend that dips in the same dish?—Timon of Athens, iii. 2.
He that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray me.—Matt. xxvi. 23.
You shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest.—Timon of Athens, v. 1.
The righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree.—Ps. xcii. 12.
It is written, they appear to men like angels of light.—Com. of Errors, iv. 3
Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.—2 Cor. xi. 14.
And lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.—King John, iv. 3.
Thorns and snares are in the way of the froward.—Prov. xxii. 5.
When we first put this dangerous stone a rolling,
’Twould fall upon ourselves.—Henry VIII., v. 2.
He that rolleth a stone, it will return upon him.—Prov. xxvi. 27.

The speech of Ulysses, in “Troilus and Cressida,” i. 3, is almost a
paraphrase of St. Luke xxi. 25, 26:—
But when the planets
In evil mixture to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents! What mutiny!
What raging of the sea! Shaking of earth!
Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixture.

And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress
of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; men’s hearts failing them for fear,
and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth; for the powers of heaven shall
be shaken.

Hermia and Lear both use an expression derived from the same source:—
Hermia.—An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.—Mid. N. Dream, iii. 2.

Lear.—Struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart.—ii. 4.

They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent; adders’ poison is under their lips.—Ps. cxl. 3.
Lear.—All the stored vengeances of heaven fall on her ingrateful top.—ii. 4.
As for the head of those that compass me about, let the mischief of their own lips cover them.—
Ps. cxl. 9.
Fool to King Lear.—We’ll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there’s no laboring in the
winter.—ii. 4.

The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their meat in the summer.—Prov. xxx. 25. See
also Prov. vi. 6.

WHO IS THE TRUE GENTLEMAN?

The answer to this question will afford one of numberless instances that can
be adduced to show the superiority of inspired composition. Compare
Bishop Doane’s admired definition with that of the Psalmist:—
A gentleman is but a gentle man—no more, no less; a diamond polished that was a diamond in the
rough: a gentleman is gentle; a gentleman is modest; a gentleman is courteous; a gentleman is
generous; a gentleman is slow to take offence, as being one that never gives it; a gentleman is slow to
surmise evil, as being one that never thinks it; a gentleman goes armed only in consciousness of
right; a gentleman subjects his appetites; a gentleman refines his tastes; a gentleman subdues his
feelings; a gentleman controls his speech; and finally, a gentleman deems every other better than
himself.

In the paraphrase of Psalm xv. it is thus answered:—
’Tis he whose every thought and deed
By rules of virtue moves;
Whose generous tongue disdains to speak
The thing his heart disproves.
Who never did a slander forge,
His neighbor’s fame to wound,
Nor hearken to a false report,
By malice whispered round.
Who vice, in all its pomp and power,
Can treat with just neglect,
And piety, though clothed in rags,
Religiously respect.
Who to his plighted vows and trust
Has ever firmly stood;
And though he promise to his loss,
He makes his promise good.
Whose soul in usury disdains
His treasure to employ;
Whom no rewards can ever bribe
The guiltless to destroy.

MISQUOTATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE.
“God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.”[7] From Sterno’s Sentimental Journey to Italy. Compare
Isaiah xxvii. 8.
“In the midst of life we are in death.” From the Burial Service; and this, originally, from a hymn of
Luther.
“Bread and wine which the Lord hath commanded to be received.” From the English Catechism.
“Not to be wise above what is written.” Not in Scripture.
“That the Spirit would go from heart to heart as oil from vessel to vessel.” Not in Scripture.
“The merciful man is merciful to his beast.” The scriptural form is, “A righteous man regardeth the
life of his beast.”—Prov. xii. 10.
“A nation shall be born in a day.” In Isaiah it reads, “Shall a nation be born at once?”—lxvi. 8.
“As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth a man the countenance of his friend.” “Iron sharpeneth iron; so a
man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.” Prov. xxvii. 17.
“That he who runs may read.” “That he may run that readeth.”—Hab. ii. 2.
“Owe no man any thing but love.” “Owe no man any thing, but to love one another.”—Rom. xiii. 8.
“Prone to sin as the sparks fly upward.” “Born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.”—Job v. 7.
“Exalted to heaven in point of privilege.” Not in the Bible.
Eve was not Adam’s helpmate, but merely a help meet for him; nor was Absalom’s long hair, of
which he was so proud, the instrument of his destruction;[8] his head, and not the hair upon it, having
been caught in the boughs of the tree. (2 Samuel xviii. 9.)
“Money is the root of evil.” Paul said, I. Timothy, vi. 10, “The love of money is the root of all evil.”
“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,” Gen. iii. 19. Commonly quoted “brow.”
“Cleanliness akin to godliness.” Not in the Bible.
Our Lord’s hearing the doctors in the Temple, and asking them questions, is frequently called his
disputing with the doctors.

A SCRIPTURAL BULL.

In the book of Isaiah, chapter xxxvii. verse 36, is the following confusion of
ideas:—
Then the angel of the Lord went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and
fourscore and five thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead
corpses.

WIT AND HUMOR IN THE BIBLE.

“Shocking!” many a good old saint will cry, at the very thought of it. “The
Bible a jest-book! What godless folly shall we have up next?” No, the Bible
is not a jest-book. But there is wit in it of the first quality; and a good
reason why it should be there. Take a few specimens.
Job, in his thirtieth chapter, is telling how he scorned the low-lived fellows,
who pretend to look down on him in his adversities. They are fools. They
belong to the long-eared fraternity. Anybody, with less wit, might come out
bluntly and call them asses. But Job puts it more deftly (xxx. 7): “Among
the bushes they brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together.” If
that is not wit, there is no such thing as wit. And yet the commentators don’t
see it, or won’t see it. They are perfectly wooden when they come to any
such gleam of humor.
Take another instance—Elijah’s ridicule of the prophets of Baal. They are
clamoring to their god, to help them out of a very awkward predicament.
And, while they are at it, the prophet shows them up in a way that must
have made the people roar with laughter. The stiff, antiquated style of our
English Bible tames down his sallies. Take them in modern phrase. These
quack prophets have worked themselves into a perfect desperation, and are
capering about on the altar as if they had the St. Vitus’s dance. The scene (I.
Kings xviii. 26, 27) wakes up all Elijah’s sense of the ridiculous. “Shout
louder! He is a god, you know. Make him hear! Perhaps he is chatting with
somebody, or he is off on a hunt, or gone traveling. Or maybe he is taking a
nap. Shout away! Wake him up!” Imagine the priests going through their
antics on the altar, while Elijah bombards them in this style, at his leisure.
Paul shows a dry humor more than once, as in II. Cor. xii. 13: “Why haven’t
you fared as well as the other churches? Ah! there is one grievance—that
you haven’t had me to support. Pray do not lay it up against me!”
These instances might be multiplied from the Old and New Testaments
both. What do they show? That the Bible is, on the whole, a humorous
book? Far from it. That religion is a humorous subject—that we are to
throw all the wit we can into the treatment of it? No. But they show that the

sense of the ludicrous is put into a man by his Maker; that it has its uses,
and that we are not to be ashamed of it, or to roll up our eyes in a holy
horror of it.

THE OLD AND THE NEW TESTAMENT.

The name Old Testament was applied to the books of Moses by St. Paul (II.
Cor. iii. 14), inasmuch as the former covenant comprised the whole scheme
of the Mosaic revelation, and the history of this is contained in them. The
phrase “book of the covenant,” taken from Exod. xxiv. 7, was transferred in
the course of time by metonymy to signify the writings themselves. The
term New Testament has been in common use since the third century, and
was employed by Eusebius in the sense in which it is now applied.

A SCRIPTURAL SUM.
Add to your faith, virtue;
And to virtue, knowledge;
And to knowledge, temperance:
And to temperance, patience;
And to patience, godliness;
And to godliness, brotherly kindness;
And to brotherly kindness, charity.

The Answer:—For if these things be in you and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren
nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.—2 Peter i. 5, 8.

BIBLIOMANCY.

Bibliomancy, or divination by the Bible, had become so common in the
fifth century, that several councils were obliged expressly to forbid it, as
injurious to religion, and savoring of idolatry.
This kind of divination was named Sortes Sanctorum, or Sortes Sacræ, Lots
of the Saints, or Sacred Lots, and consisted in suddenly opening, or dipping
into, the Bible, and regarding the passage that first presented itself to the
eye as predicting the future lot of the inquirer. The Sortes Sanctorum had
succeeded the Sortes Homericæ and Sortes Virgilianæ of the Pagans; among
whom it was customary to take the work of some famous poet, as Homer or
Virgil, and write out different verses on separate scrolls, and afterwards
draw one of them, or else, opening the book suddenly, consider the first
verse that presented itself as a prognostication of future events. Even the
vagrant fortune-tellers, like some of the gypsies of our own times, adopted
this method of imposing upon the credulity of the ignorant. The nations of
the East retain the practice to the present day. The famous usurper, Nadir
Shah, twice decided upon besieging cities, by opening at random upon
verses of the celebrated poet Hafiz.
This abuse, which was first introduced into the church about the third
century, by the superstition of the people, afterwards gained ground through
the ignorance of some of the clergy, who permitted prayers to be read in the
churches for this very purpose. It was therefore found necessary to ordain in
the Council of Vannes, held A.D. 465, “That whoever of the clergy or laity
should be detected in the practice of this art should be cast out of the
communion of the church.” In 506, the Council of Agde renewed the
decree; and in 578, the Council of Auxerre, amongst other kinds of
divination, forbade the Lots of the Saints, as they were called, adding, “Let
all things be done in the name of the Lord;” but these ordinances did not
effectually suppress them, for we find them again noticed and condemned
in a capitulary or edict of Charlemagne, in 793. Indeed, all endeavors to
banish them from the Christian church appear to have been in vain for ages.

The Name of God.
Tell them I AM, Jehovah said
To Moses, while earth heard in dread;
And, smitten to the heart,
At once, above, beneath, around,
All nature, without voice or sound,
Replied, O Lord! THOU ART!
Christopher Smart, an English Lunatic.

It is singular that the name of God should be spelled with four letters in
almost every known language. It is in Latin, Deus; Greek, Zeus; Hebrew,
Adon; Syrian, Adad; Arabian, Alla; Persian, Syra; Tartarian, Idga; Egyptian,
Aumn, or Zeut; East Indian, Esgi, or Zenl; Japanese, Zain; Turkish, Addi;
Scandinavian, Odin; Wallachian, Zenc; Croatian, Doga; Dalmatian, Rogt;
Tyrrhenian, Eher; Etrurian, Chur; Margarian, Oese; Swedish, Codd; Irish,
Dich; German, Gott; French, Dieu; Spanish, Dios; Peruvian, Lian.
The name God in the Anglo-Saxon language means good, and this
signification affords singular testimony of the Anglo-Saxon conception of
the essence of the Divine Being. He is goodness itself, and the Author of all
goodness. Yet the idea of denoting the Deity by a term equivalent to abstract
and absolute perfection, striking as it may appear, is perhaps less
remarkable than the fact that the word Man, used to designate a human
being, formerly signified wickedness; showing how well aware were its
originators that our fallen nature had become identified with sin.

JEHOVAH.

The word Elohim, as an appellation of Deity, appears to have been in use
before the Hebrews had attained a national existence. That Jehovah is
specifically the God of the Hebrews is clear, from the fact that the heathen
deities never receive this name; they are always spoken of as Elohim. Both
the pronunciation and the etymological derivation of the word Jehovah are
matters of critical controversy. The Jews of later periods from religious awe
abstained from pronouncing it, and whenever it occurred in reading,
substituted the word Adonai (my Lord); and it is now generally believed
that the sublinear vowel signs attached to the Hebrew tetragrammaton Jhvh
belong to the substituted word. Many believe Jahveh to be the original
pronunciation. The Hebrew root of the word is believed to be the verb
havah or hayah, to be; hence its meaning throughout the Scriptures, “the
Being,” or “the Everlasting.”

GOD IN SHAKSPEARE.

Michelet (Jeanne d’Arc,) speaking of English literature, says that it is
“Sceptique, judaique, satanique.” In a note he says, “I do not recollect to
have seen the word God in Shakspeare. If it is there at all, it is there very
rarely, by chance, and without a shadow of religious sentiment.” Mrs.
Cowden Clarke, by means of her admirable Concordance to Shakspeare,
enables us to weigh the truth of this eminent French writer’s remark. The
word God occurs in Shakspeare upwards of one thousand times, and the
word heaven, which is so frequently substituted for the word God—more
especially in the historical plays—occurs about eight hundred times. In the
Holy Scriptures, according to Cruden, it occurs about eight hundred times.
It is true that the word often occurs in Shakspeare without a reverential
sentiment; but M. Michelet says it never occurs with a religious feeling (un
sentiment religieux.) This statement is almost as erroneous as that regarding
the absence of the word. It would be easy for an English scholar to produce
from Shakspeare more passages indicative of deep religious feeling than are
to be found in any French writer whatever.

THE PARSEE, JEW, AND CHRISTIAN.

A Jew entered a Parsee temple, and beheld the sacred fire. “What!” said he
to the priest, “do you worship the fire?”
“Not the fire,” answered the priest: “it is to us an emblem of the sun, and of
his genial heat.”
“Do you then worship the sun as your god?” asked the Jew. “Know ye not
that this luminary also is but a work of that Almighty Creator?”
“We know it,” replied the priest: “but the uncultivated man requires a
sensible sign, in order to form a conception of the Most High. And is not the
sun the incomprehensible source of light, an image of that invisible being
who blesses and preserves all things?”
“Do your people, then,” rejoined the Israelite, “distinguish the type from the
original? They call the sun their god, and, descending even from this to a
baser object, they kneel before an earthly flame! Ye amuse the outward but
blind the inward eye; and while ye hold to them the earthly, ye draw from
them the heavenly light! ‘Thou shalt not make unto thyself any image or
any likeness.’”
“How do you name the Supreme Being?” asked the Parsee.
“We call him Jehovah Adonai, that is, the Lord who is, who was, and who
will be,” answered the Jew.
“Your appellation is grand and sublime,” said the Parsee; “but it is awful
too.”
A Christian then drew nigh, and said,—
“We call him Father.”
The Pagan and the Jew looked at each other, and said,—
“Here is at once an image and a reality: it is a word of the heart.”
Therefore they all raised their eyes to heaven, and said, with reverence and
love, “Our Father!” and they took each by the hand, and all three called
one another brothers!

De Nomine Jesu.
I n rebus tantis trina conjunctio mund I
E rigit humanum sensum, laudare venust E
S ola salus nobis, et mundi summa, potesta S
V enit peccati nodum dissolvere fruct V
S umma salus cunctas nituit per secula terra S.[9]

The letters I. H. S. so conspicuously appended to different portions of
Catholic churches, are said to have been designed by St. Bernardine of
Sienna, to denote the name and mission of the Saviour. They are to be found
in a circle above the principal door of the Franciscan Church of the Holy
Cross, (Santa Croce,) in Florence, and are said to have been put there by the
saint on the termination of the plague of 1347, after which they were
commonly introduced into churches. The letters have assigned to them the
following signification:—
Jesus hominum Salvator—Jesus, the Saviour of men.
In hoc salus—In him is salvation.

A maker of playing-cards, which, like missels, were illuminated in those
times, was one day remonstrated with by St. Bernardine, upon the
sinfulness of his business. The card-maker pleaded the needs of his family.
“Well, I will help you,” said the saint, and wrote the letters I. H. S., which
he advised the card-maker to paint and gild. The new card “took,” and the
saint himself travelled about the country as a poster of these little sacred
handbills of the Church.

THE FLOWER OF JESSE.

1520.
There is a flower sprung of a tree,
The root of it is called Jesse,
A flower of price,—
There is none such in Paradise.

Of Lily white and Rose of Ryse,
Of Primrose and of Flower-de-Lyse,
Of all flowers in my devyce,
The flower of Jesse beareth the prize,
For most of all
To help our souls both great and small.

I praise the flower of good Jesse,
Of all the flowers that ever shall be,
Uphold the flower of good Jesse,
And worship it for aye beautee;
For best of all
That ever was or ever be shall.

BEAUTIFUL LEGEND.

One day Rabbi Judah and his brethren, the seven pillars of Wisdom, sat in
the Court of the Temple, on feast-day, disputing about REST. One said that it
was to have attained sufficient wealth, yet without sin. The second, that it
was fame and praise of all men. The third, that it was the possession of
power to rule the State. The fourth, that it consisted only in a happy home.
The fifth, that it must be in the old age of one who is rich, powerful,
famous, surrounded by children and children’s children. The sixth said that
all that were vain, unless a man keep all the ritual law of Moses. And Rabbi
Judah, the venerable, the tallest of the brothers, said, “Ye have spoken
wisely; but one thing more is necessary. He only can find rest, who to all
things addeth this, that he keepeth the tradition of the elders.”
There sat in the Court a fair-haired boy, playing with some lilies in his lap,
and, hearing the talk, he dropped them with astonishment from his hands,
and looked up—that boy of twelve—and said, “Nay, nay, fathers: he only
findeth rest, who loveth his brother as himself, and God with his whole
heart and soul. He is greater than fame, and wealth, and power, happier than
a happy home, happy without it, better than honored age; he is a law to
himself, and above all tradition.” The doctors were astonished. They said,
“When Christ cometh, shall He tell us greater things?” And they thanked
God, for they said, “The old men are not always wise, yet God be praised,
that out of the mouth of this young suckling has His praise become perfect.”

PERSIAN APOLOGUE.

In Sir William Jones’s Persian Grammar may be found the following
beautiful story from Nisami. Mr. Alger gives a metrical translation in his
Poetry of the East.
One evening Jesus arrived at the gates of a certain city, and sent his
disciples forward to prepare supper, while he himself, intent on doing good,
walked through the streets into the market-place.
And he saw at the corner of the market some people gathered together,
looking at an object on the ground; and he drew near to see what it might
be. It was a dead dog, with a halter around his neck, by which he appeared
to have been dragged through the dirt; and a viler, a more abject, a more
unclean thing never met the eyes of man.
And those who stood by looked on with abhorrence.
“Faugh!” said one, stopping his nose: “it pollutes the air.” “How long,” said
another, “shall this foul beast offend our sight?” “Look at his torn hide,”
said a third: “one could not even cut a shoe out of it.” “And his ears,” said a
fourth, “all draggled and bleeding.” “No doubt,” said a fifth, “he has been
hanged for thieving.”
And Jesus heard them, and looking down compassionately on the dead
creature, he said, “Pearls are not equal to the whiteness of his teeth!”
Then the people turned towards him with amazement, and said among
themselves, “Who is this? It must be Jesus of Nazareth, for only HE could
find something to pity and approve even in a dead dog.” And being
ashamed, they bowed their heads before him and went each on his way.

DESCRIPTION OF THE PERSON OF JESUS CHRIST.

The following description is alleged to be derived from an ancient
manuscript sent by Publius Lentulus, President of Judea, to the Senate of
Rome:—
“There lives at this time in Judea, a man of singular character, whose name
is Jesus Christ. The barbarians esteem him as their prophet; but his
followers adore him as the immediate offspring of the immortal God. He is
endowed with such unparalleled virtue as to call back the dead from their
graves and to heal every kind of disease with a word or a touch. His person
is tall and elegantly shaped; his aspect, amiable and reverend; his hair flows
in those beauteous shades which no united colors can match, falling in
graceful curls below his ears, agreeably couching on his shoulders, and
parting on the crown of his head; his dress, that of the sect of Nazarites; his
forehead is smooth and large; his cheeks without blemish, and of roseate
hue; his nose and mouth are formed with exquisite symmetry; his beard is
thick and suitable to the hair of his head, reaching a little below his chin,
and parting in the middle below; his eyes are clear, bright, and serene.
“He rebukes with mildness, and invokes with the most tender and
persuasive language,—his whole address, whether in word or deed, being
elegantly grave, and strictly characteristic of so exalted a being. No man has
seen him laugh, but the whole world beholds him weep frequently, and so
persuasive are his tears that the whole multitude cannot withhold their tears
from joining in sympathy with him. He is moderate, temperate, and wise: in
short, whatever the phenomenon may turn out in the end, he seems at
present to be a man of excellent beauty and divine perfection, every way
surpassing man.”

DEATH-WARRANT OF JESUS CHRIST.

Of the many interesting relics and fragments brought to light by the
persevering researches of antiquarians, none could be more interesting to
the philanthropist and believer than the following,—to Christians, the most
imposing judicial document ever recorded in human annals. It has been thus
faithfully transcribed:—
Sentence rendered by Pontius Pilate, acting Governor of Lower Galilee, stating that Jesus of
Nazareth shall suffer death on the cross.

In the year seventeen of the Emperor Tiberius Cæsar, and the 27th day of
March, the city of the holy Jerusalem—Annas and Caiaphas being priests,
sacrificators of the people of God—Pontius Pilate, Governor of Lower
Galilee, sitting in the presidential chair of the prætory, condemns Jesus of
Nazareth to die on the cross between two thieves, the great and notorious
evidence of the people saying:
1. Jesus is a seducer.
2. He is seditious.
3. He is the enemy of the law.
4. He calls himself falsely the Son of God.
5. He calls himself falsely the King of Israel.
6. He entered into the temple followed by a multitude bearing palm
branches in their hands.
Orders the first centurion, Quilius Cornelius, to lead him to the place of execution.
Forbids any person whomsoever, either poor or rich, to oppose the death of Jesus Christ.

The witnesses who signed the condemnation of Jesus are—
1. Daniel Robani, a Pharisee.
2. Joannus Robani.
3. Raphael Robani.
4. Capet, a citizen.

Jesus shall go out of the city of Jerusalem by the gate of Struenus.

The foregoing is engraved on a copper plate, on the reverse of which is
written, “A similar plate is sent to each tribe.” It was found in an antique
marble vase, while excavating in the ancient city of Aquilla, in the kingdom
of Naples, in the year 1810, and was discovered by the Commissioners of
Arts of the French army. At the expedition of Naples, it was enclosed in a
box of ebony and preserved in the sacristy of the Carthusians. The French
translation was made by the Commissioners of Arts. The original is in the
Hebrew language.

DOUBLE HEXAMETER.

Si Christum {nescis
discis
} nihil est si cætera { discis;
nescis.

ANTICIPATORY USE OF THE CROSS.

Madame Calderon de la Barca, in her Life in Mexico (pub. 1843), says that
the symbol of the Cross was known to the Indians before the arrival of
Cortez. In the island of Cozumel, near Yucatan, there were several; and in
Yucatan[10] itself there was a stone cross. And there an Indian, considered a
prophet among his countrymen, had declared that a nation bearing the same
as a symbol should arrive from a distant country. More extraordinary still
was a temple dedicated to the Holy Cross by the Toltec nation in the city of
Cholula. Near Tulansingo there is also a cross engraved on a rock with
various characters. In Oajaca there was a cross which the Indians from time
immemorial had been accustomed to consider as a divine symbol. By order
of Bishop Cervantes it was placed in a chapel in the cathedral. Information
concerning its discovery, together with a small cup, cut out of its wood, was
sent to Rome to Paul V., who received it on his knees, singing the hymn
Vexilla regis. etc.

The Lord’s Prayer.
The Lord’s Prayer alone is an evidence of the truth of Christianity,—so admirably is that prayer
accommodated to all our wants.—Lord Wellington.

THY AND US.

The two divisions of the Lord’s Prayer—the former relating to the glory of
God, the latter to the wants of man—appear very evident on a slight
transposition of the personal pronouns:—
Thy name be hallowed.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done, &c.
Us give this day our daily bread.
Us forgive our debts, &c.
Us lead not into temptation.
Us deliver from evil.

SPIRIT OF THE LORD’S PRAYER.

The spirit of the Lord’s Prayer is beautiful. This form of petition breathes:
—
A filial spirit—Father.
A catholic spirit—Our Father.
A reverential spirit—Hallowed be Thy name.
A missionary spirit—Thy kingdom come.
An obedient spirit—Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
A dependent spirit—Give us this day our daily bread.
A forgiving spirit—And forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors.
A cautious spirit—And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
A confidential and adoring spirit—For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen.

GOTHIC VERSION.

Ulphilas, who lived between the years 310 and 388, was bishop of the
Western Goths, and translated the greater part of the Scriptures into the
Gothic language. The following is his rendering of the Lord’s Prayer:—
Atta unsar thu in himinam. Weihnai namo thein. Quimai thiudinassus sijaima, swaswe jah weis
afletam thaim skulam unsaraim. Jah ni briggais uns in fraistubujai. Ak lausei uns af thamma ubilin,
unte theina ist thiudangardi, jah maths, jah wulthus in aiwins. Amen.

METRICAL VERSIONS.
Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come: thy will be done the same
In earth and heaven. Give us daily bread;
Forgive our sins as others we forgive.
Into temptation let us not be led;
Deliver us from evil while we live.
For kingdom, power, and glory must remain
For ever and for ever thine: Amen.

Here the sixty-six words of the original, according to the authorized
translation of St. Matthew’s version, are reduced to fifty-nine, though the
latter is fully implied in all points except two. “This day” is omitted; but, if
anything, the Greek is slightly approached, for ἐπιούσιον refers rather to to-
morrow than to to-day. The antithesis in “But deliver us” does not appear: if
the word deliver be sacrificed, we may read, “But keep us safe.”
The subjoined metrical version of the Prayer is at least two and a half
centuries old, and was written for adaptation to music in public worship:—
Our Father which in heaven art,
All hallowed be thy name;
Thy kingdom come,
On earth thy will be done,
Even as the same in heaven is.
Give us, O Lord, our daily bread this day:
As we forgive our debtors,
So forgive our debts, we pray.
Into temptation lead us not,
From evil make us free:
The kingdom, power, and glory thine,
Both now and ever be.

The Prayer is commended for its authorship, its efficacy, its perfection, the
order of its parts, its brevity, and its necessity.
The following paraphrase, which has been set to music as a duet, is of more
recent origin:—

Our Heavenly Father, hear our prayer:
Thy name be hallowed everywhere;
Thy kingdom come; on earth, thy will,
E’en as in heaven, let all fulfill;
Give this day’s bread, that we may live;
Forgive our sins as we forgive;
Help us temptation to withstand;
From evil shield us by Thy hand;
Now and forever, unto Thee,
The kingdom, power, and glory be. Amen.

THE PRAYER ILLUSTRATED.

Our Father.—Isaiah lxiii. 16.

1. By right of creation. Malachi ii. 10.
2. By bountiful provision. Psalm cxlv. 16.
3. By gracious adoption. Ephesians i. 5.

Who art in Heaven.—1 Kings viii. 43.

1. The throne of thy glory. Isaiah lxvi. 1.
2. The portion of thy children. 1 Peter i. 4.
3. The temple of thy angels. Isaiah vi. 1.

Hallowed be thy Name.—Psalm cxv. 1.

1. By the thoughts of our hearts. Psalm lxxxvi. 11.
2. By the words of our lips. Psalm li. 15.
3. By the works of our hands. 1 Corinthians x. 31.

Thy Kingdom come.—Psalm cx. 2.

1. Of Providence to defend us. Psalm xvii. 8.
2. Of grace to refine us. 1 Thessalonians v. 23.
3. Of glory to crown us. Colossians iii. 4.

Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.—Acts xxxi. 14.

1. Towards us, without resistance. 1 Samuel iii. 18.
2. By us, without compulsion. Psalm cxix. 36.
3. Universally, without exception. Luke i. 6.
4. Eternally, without declension. Psalm cxix. 93.

Give us this day our daily bread.

1. Of necessity, for our bodies. Proverbs xxx. 8.
2. Of eternal life, for our souls. John vi. 34.

And forgive us our trespasses.—Psalm xxv. 11.

1. Against the commands of thy law. 1 John iii. 4.
2. Against the grace of thy gospel. 1 Timothy i. 13.

As we forgive them that trespass against us.—Matthew vi. 15.

1. By defaming our characters. Matthew v. 11.
2. By embezzling our property. Philemon 18.
3. By abusing our persons. Acts vii. 60.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.—Matthew xxvi. 41.

1. Of overwhelming afflictions. Psalm cxxx. 1.
2. Of worldly enticements. 1 John ii. 16.
3. Of Satan’s devices. 1 Timothy iii. 7.
4. Of error’s seduction. 1 Timothy vi. 10.
5. Of sinful affections. Romans i. 26.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.—Jude 25.

1. Thy kingdom governs all. Psalm ciii. 19.
2. Thy power subdues all. Philippians iii. 20, 21.
3. Thy glory is above all. Psalm cxlviii. 13.

Amen.—Ephesians i. 11.

1. As it is in thy purposes. Isaiah xiv. 27.
2. So is it in thy promises. 2 Corinthians i. 20.
3. So be it in our prayers. Revelation xxii. 20.
4. So shall it be to thy praise. Revelation xix. 4.

ACROSTICAL PARAPHRASE.

Our Lord and King, Who reign’st enthroned on high,
Father of Light! mysterious Deity!
Who art the great I AM, the last, the first,
Art righteous, holy, merciful, and just.
In realms of glory, scenes where angels sing,
Heaven is the dwelling-place of God our King.
Hallowed Thy name, which doth all names transcend,
Be Thou adored, our great Almighty Friend;
Thy glory shines beyond creation’s bound;
Name us ’mong those Thy choicest gifts surround.
Thy kingdom towers beyond Thy starry skies;
Kingdom Satanic falls, but Thine shall rise.
Come let Thine empire, O Thou Holy One,
Thy great and everlasting will be done.
Will God make known his will, his power display?
Be it the work of mortals to obey.
Done is the great, the wondrous work of love;
On Calvary’s cross he died, but reigns above;
Earth bears the record in Thy holy word.
As heaven adores Thy love, let earth, O Lord;
It shines transcendent in the eternal skies,
Is praised in heaven—for man, the Saviour dies.
In songs immortal, angels laud his name;
Heaven shouts with joy, and saints his love proclaim
Give us, O Lord, our food, nor cease to give
Us needful food on which our souls may live!
This be our boon to-day and days to come,
Day without end in our eternal home.
Our needy souls supply from day to day;
Daily assist and aid us when we pray;
Bread though we ask, yet, Lord, Thy blessings lend.
And make us grateful when Thy gifts descend.
Forgive our sins, which in destruction place
Us, the vile rebels of a rebel race;
Our follies, faults, and trespasses forgive,
Debts which we ne’er can pay, nor Thou receive.
As we, O Lord, our neighbor’s faults o’erlook,
We beg Thou ’d’st blot ours from Thy memory’s book.
Forgive our enemies, extend Thy grace
Our souls to save, e’en Adam’s guilty race.
Debtors to Thee in gratitude and love,
And in that duty paid by saints above,
Lead us from sin, and in thy mercy raise
Us from the tempter and his hellish ways.
Not in our own, but in His name who bled,
Into Thine ear we pour our every need.
Temptation’s fatal charm help us to shun,
But may we conquer through Thy conquering Son;
Deliver us from all that can annoy
Us in this world, and may our souls destroy.
From all calamities that man betide,

,
Evil and death, O turn our feet aside,—
For we are mortal worms, and cleave to clay,—
Thine ’tis to rule, and mortals to obey.
Is not thy mercy, Lord, forever free?
The whole creation knows no God but Thee.
Kingdom and empire in Thy presence fall;
The King eternal reigns the King of all.
Power is Thine—to Thee be glory given,
And be thy name adored by earth and heaven.
The praise of saints and angels is Thy own;
Glory to Thee, the Everlasting One.
Forever be Thy holy name adored.
AMEN! Hosannah! blessed be the Lord.

TRIFLING OF BIBLE COMMENTATORS.

Dr. Gill, in his Expository, seriously tells us that the word ABBA read
backwards or forwards being the same, may teach us that God is the father
of his people in adversity as well as in prosperity.

THE PRAYER ECHOED.

If any be distressed, and fain would gather
Some comfort, let him haste unto
Our Father.
For we of hope and help are quite bereaven
Except Thou succor us
Who art in heaven.
Thou showest mercy, therefore for the same
We praise Thee, singing,
Hallowed be Thy name.
Of all our miseries cast up the sum;
Show us thy joys, and let
Thy kingdom come.
We mortal are, and alter from our birth;
Thou constant art;
Thy will be done on earth.
Thou madest the earth, as well as planets seven,
Thy name be blessed here
As ’tis in heaven.
Nothing we have to use, or debts to pay,
Except Thou give it us.
Give us this day
Wherewith to clothe us, wherewith to be fed,
For without Thee we want
Our daily bread.
We want, but want no faults, for no day passes
But we do sin.
Forgive us our trespasses.
No man from sinning ever free did live
Forgive us, Lord, our sins,
As we forgive.
If we repent our faults, Thou ne’er disdain’st us;
We pardon them
That trespass against us;
Forgive us that is past, a new path tread us;
Direct us always in Thy faith,
And lead us—
Us, Thine own people and Thy chosen nation,
Into all truth, but
Not into temptation.
Thou that of all good graces art the Giver,
Suffer us not to wander,
But deliver
Us from the fierce assaults of world and devil
And flesh; so shalt Thou free us
From all evil.
To these petitions let both church and laymen
With one consent of heart and voice, say,
Amen.

THE PRAYER IN AN ACROSTIC.
In the following curious composition the initial capitals spell, “My boast is
in the glorious Cross of Christ.” The words in italics, when read from top to
bottom and bottom to top, form the Lord’s Prayer complete:—
Make known the Gospel truths, Our Father King;
Yield up thy grace, dear Father from above;
Bless us with hearts which feelingly can sing,
“Our life thou art for ever, God of Love!”
Assuage our grief in love for Christ, we pray,
Since the bright prince of Heaven and glory died,
Took all our sins and hallowed the display,
Infinite be-ing—first man, and then the crucified.
Stupendous God! thy grace and power make known;
In Jesus’ name let all the world rejoice.
Now all the world thy heavenly kingdom own,
The blessed kingdom for thy saints the choice.
How vile to come to thee is all our cry,
Enemies to thy self and all that’s thine,
Graceless our will, we live for vanity,
Lending to sin our be-ing, evil in our design.
O God, thy will be done from earth to Heaven;
Reclining on the Gospel let us live,
In earth from sin deliver-ed and forgiven,
Oh! as thyself but teach us to forgive.
Unless it’s power temptation doth destroy,
Sure is our fall into the depths of woe,
Carnal in mind, we’ve not a glimpse of joy
Raised against Heaven; in us no hope can flow.
O give us grace and lead us on thy way;
Shine on us with thy love and give us peace;
Self and this sin that rise against us slay;
Oh! grant each day our trespass-es may cease.
Forgive our evil deeds that oft we do;
Convince us daily of them to our shame;
Help us with heavenly bread, forgive us, too,
Recurrent lusts, and we’ll adore thy name.
In thy forgive-ness we as saints can die,
Since for us and our trespasses so high,
Thy son, our Saviour, bled on Calvary.

Ecclesiasticæ.

EXCESSIVE CIVILITY.

Tom Brown, in his Laconics, says that in the reign of Charles II. a certain
worthy divine at Whitehall thus addressed himself to the auditory at the
conclusion of his sermon: “In short, if you don’t live up to the precepts of
the gospel, but abandon yourselves to your irregular appetites, you must
expect to receive your reward in a certain place, which ’tis not good
manners to mention here.” This suggested to Pope the couplet,
“To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite,
Who never mentions hell to ears polite.”

SHORT SERMONS.

Dean Swift, having been solicited to preach a charity sermon, mounted the
pulpit, and after announcing his text, “He that giveth to the poor lendeth to
the Lord,” simply said, “Now, my brethren, if you are satisfied with the
security, down with the dust.” He then took his seat, and there was an
unusually large collection.

The following abridgment contains the pith and marrow, sum and
substance, of a sermon which occupied an hour in delivery:—
“Man is born to trouble.”
This subject, my hearers, is naturally divisible into four heads:—
1. Man’s entrance into the world;
2. His progress through the world;
3. His exit from the world; and
4. Practical reflections from what may be said.
First, then:—
1. Man’s ingress in life is naked and bare,
2. His progress through life is trouble and care,
3. His egress from it, none can tell where,
4. But doing well here, he will be well there.
Now, on this subject, my brethren dear,
I could not tell more by preaching a year.

A SERMON ON MALT.
The Rev. Dr. Dodd lived within a few miles of Cambridge, (England,) and
had offended several students by preaching a sermon on temperance. One
day some of them met him. They said one to another,—
“Here’s Father Dodd: he shall preach us a sermon.” Accosting him with,—
“Your servants.”
“Sirs! yours, gentlemen!” replied the Doctor.
They said, “We have a favor to ask of you, which must be granted.” The
divine asked what it was.
“To preach a sermon,” was the reply.
“Well,” said he, “appoint the time and place, and I will.”
“The time, the present; the place, that hollow tree,” (pointing to it,) said the
students.
“’Tis an imposition!” said the Doctor: “there ought to be consideration
before preaching.”
“If you refuse,” responded they, “we will put you into the tree!” Whereupon
the Doctor acquiesced, and asked them for a text.
“Malt!” said they.
The reverend gentleman commenced:—
“Let me crave your attention, my beloved!
“I am a little man, come at a short warning, to preach a short sermon, upon
a short subject, to a thin congregation, in an unworthy pulpit. Beloved! my
text is ‘Malt.’ I cannot divide it into syllables, it being but a monosyllable:
therefore I must divide it into letters, which I find in my text to be four:—
M-a-l-t. M, my beloved, is moral—A, is allegorical—L, is literal—T, is
theological.
“1st. The moral teaches such as you drunkards good manners; therefore M,
my masters—A, all of you—L, leave off—T, tippling.

“2d. The allegorical is, when one thing is spoken and another meant; the
thing here spoken is Malt, the thing meant the oil of malt, which you rustics
make M, your masters—A, your apparel—L, your liberty—T, your trusts.
“3d. The theological is according to the effects it works, which are of two
kinds—the first in this world, the second in the world to come. The effects
it works in this world are, in some, M, murder—in others, A, adultery—in
all, L, looseness of life—and particularly in some, T, treason. In the world
to come, the effects of it are, M, misery—A, anguish—L, lamentation—T,
torment—and thus much for my text, ‘Malt.’
“Infer 1st: As words of exhortation: M, my masters—A, all of you—L,
leave off—T, tippling.
“2d. A word for conviction: M, my masters—A, all of you—L, look for—T,
torment.
“3d. A word for caution, take this: A drunkard is the annoyance of modesty
—the spoiler of civility—the destroyer of reason—the brewer’s agent—the
alewife’s benefactor—his wife’s sorrow—his children’s trouble—his
neighbor’s scoff—a walking swill-tub—a picture of a beast—a monster of a
man.”
The youngsters found the truth so unpalatable, that they soon deserted their
preacher, glad to get beyond the reach of his voice.

ELOQUENCE OF BASCOM.

The following passages will serve to illustrate the peculiar oratorical style
of Rev. Henry B. Bascom, the distinguished Kentucky preacher:—
“Chemistry, with its fire-tongs of the galvanic battery, teaches that the starry
diamond in the crown of kings, and the black carbon which the peasant
treads beneath his feet, are both composed of the same identical elements;
analysis also proves that a chief ingredient in limestone is carbon. Then let
the burning breath of God pass over all the limestone of the earth, and bid
its old mossy layers crystalize into new beauty; and lo! at the Almighty fiat
the mountain ranges flash into living gems with a lustre that renders
midnight noon, and eclipses all the stars!”
He urged the same view by another example, still better adapted to popular
apprehension:—
“Look yonder,” said the impassioned orator, pointing a motionless finger
towards the lofty ceiling, as if it were the sky. “See that wrathful thunder-
cloud—the fiery bed of the lightnings and hissing hail—the cradle of
tempests and floods!—What can be more dark, more dreary, more dreadful?
Say, scoffing skeptic, is it capable of any beauty? You pronounce, ‘no.’
Well, very well; but behold, while the sneering denial curls your proud lips,
the sun with its sword of light shears through the sea of vapors in the west,
and laughs in your incredulous face with his fine golden eye. Now, look
again at the thunder-cloud! See! where it was blackest and fullest of gloom,
the sunbeams have kissed its hideous cheek; and where the kiss fell there is
now a blush, brighter than ever mantled on the brow of mortal maiden—the
rich blush of crimson and gold, of purple and vermilion—a pictured blush,
fit for the gaze of angels—the flower-work of pencils of fire and light,
wrought at a dash by one stroke of the right hand of God! Ay, the ugly cloud
hath given birth to the rainbow, that perfection and symbol of unspeakable
beauty!”

THE LORD BISHOP.

The following incident is said to have occurred in the parish church of
Bradford, England, during a special service, on the occasion of a visit from
the bishop of the diocese:—
The clerk, before the sermon, gave out the psalm in broad Wiltshire dialect,
namely:—“Let us zing to the praayze an’ glawry o’ God, three varsses o’
the hundred and vourteen zaam—a varsion ’specially ’dapted to the
’caasion,—by meself:”—
Why hop ye zo, ye little hills,
An’ what var de’e skip?
Is it ’cas you’m proud to see
His grace the Lard Biship?

Why skip ye zo, ye little hills,
An’ what var de’e hop?
Is it ’cas to preach to we
Is com’d the Lard Bishop!

Eese;—he is com’d to preach to we:
Then let us aul strick up,
An’ zing a glawrious zong of praayze,
An’ bless the Lard Bishup!

THE PREACHERS OF CROMWELL’S TIME.

Dr. Echard says of the preachers who lived in the time of Cromwell,
—“Coiners of new phrases, drawers-out of long godly words, thick pourers-
out of texts of Scripture, mimical squeakers and bellowers, vain-glorious
admirers only of themselves, and those of their own fashioned face and
gesture; such as these shall be followed, shall have their bushels of China
oranges, shall be solaced with all manner of cordial essences, and shall be
rubbed down with Holland of ten shillings an ell.”
One of the singular fashions that prevailed among the preachers of those
days was that of coughing or hemming in the middle of a sentence, as an
ornament of speech; and when their sermons were printed, the place where
the preacher coughed or hemmed was always noted in the margin. This
practice was not confined to England, for Olivier Maillard, a Cordelier, and
famous preacher, printed a sermon at Brussels in the year 1500, and marked
in the margin where the preacher hemmed once or twice, or coughed.

ORIGIN OF TEXTS.

The custom of taking a text as the basis of a sermon originated with Ezra,
who, we are told, accompanied by several Levites in a public congregation
of men and women, ascended a pulpit, opened the book of the law, and after
addressing a prayer to the Deity, to which the people said Amen, “read in
the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them
to understand the reading.” (Nehemiah viii. 8.)
Previous to the time of Ezra, the Patriarchs delivered, in public assemblies,
either prophecies or moral instructions for the edification of the people; and
it was not until the return of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity, during
which time they had almost lost the language in which the Pentateuch was
written, that it became necessary to explain, as well as to read, the
Scriptures to them. In later times, the book of Moses was thus read in the
synagogues every Sabbath day. (Acts xv. 21.) To this custom our Saviour
conformed: in the synagogue at Nazareth he read a passage from the
prophet Isaiah, then closing the book, returned it to the priest, and preached
from the text.

CLERICAL BLUNDERS.

In an old book of Sermons by a divine named Milsom, we are told that it is
one among many proofs of the wisdom and benevolence of Providence that
the world was not created in the midst of winter, when Adam and Eve could
have found nothing to eat, but in harvest-time, when there was fruit on
every tree and shrub to tempt the willing hand.
Another commentator praises Divine Goodness for always making the
largest rivers flow close by the most populous towns.
St. Austin undertook to prove that the ten plagues of Egypt were
punishments adapted to the breach of the ten commandments,—forgetting
that the law was given to the Jews, and that the plagues were inflicted on
the Egyptians, and also that the law was not given in the form of
commandments until nearly three months after the plagues had been sent.

PROVING AN ALIBI.

A clergyman at Cambridge preached a sermon which one of his auditors
commended. “Yes,” said a gentleman to whom it was mentioned, “it was a
good sermon, but he stole it.” This was told to the preacher. He resented it,
and called on the gentleman to retract what he had said. “I am not,” replied
the aggressor, “very apt to retract my words, but in this instance I will. I
said, you had stolen the sermon; I find I was wrong; for on returning home,
and referring to the book whence I thought it was taken, I found it there.”

WHITEFIELD AND THE SAILORS.
Mr. Whitefield, whose gestures and play of features were so full of dramatic
power, once preached before the seamen at New York, and, in the course of
his sermon, introduced the following bold apostrophe:—
“Well, my boys, we have a clear sky, and are making fine headway over a
smooth sea before a light breeze, and we shall soon lose sight of land. But
what means this sudden lowering of the heavens, and that dark cloud arising
from the western horizon? Hark! Don’t you hear the distant thunder? Don’t
you see those flashes of lightning? There is a storm gathering! Every man to
his duty. How the waves rise and dash against the ship! The air is dark! The
tempest rages! Our masts are gone. The ship is on her beam ends! What
next?” The unsuspecting tars, reminded of former perils on the deep, as if
struck by the power of magic, arose and exclaimed, “Take to the long boat.”

PROTESTANT EXCOMMUNICATION.

John Knox, in his Liturgy for Scotch Presbyterians, sets forth the following
form for the exercise of such an attribute of ecclesiastical authority in
Protestant communities as excommunication:—
“O Lord Jesus Christ, thy expressed word is our assurance, and therefore, in
boldness of the same, here in thy name, and at the commandment of this thy
present congregation, we cut off, seclude, and excommunicate from thy
body, and from our society, N. as a pround contemner, and slanderous
person, and a member for the present altogether corrupted, and pernicious
to the body. And this his sin (albeit with sorrow of our hearts) by virtue of
our ministry, we bind and pronounce the same to be bound in heaven and
earth. We further give over, into the hands and power of the devil, the said
N. to the destruction of his flesh; straitly charging all that profess the Lord
Jesus, to whose knowledge this our sentence shall come, to repute and hold
the said N. accursed and unworthy of the familiar society of Christians;
declaring unto all men that such as hereafter (before his repentance) shall
haunt, or familiarly accompany him, are partakers of his impiety, and
subject to the like condemnation.
“This our sentence, O Lord Jesus, pronounced in thy name, and at thy
commandment, we humbly beseech thee to ratify even according to thy
promise.”

Puritan Peculiarities.

BAPTISMAL NAMES.

A Puritan maiden, who was asked for her baptismal name, replied,
“‘Through-much-tribulation-we-enter-the-kingdom-of-Heaven,’ but for
short they call me ‘Tribby.’”

The following names will be found in Lower’s English Sirnames, and in the
Lansdowne Collection. Most of them are taken from a jury-list of Sussex
County, 1658. The favorite female baptismal names among the Puritans
were Mercy, Faith, Fortune, Honor, Virtue; but there were among them
those who preferred such high-flown names as Alethe, Prothesa,
Euphrosyne, Kezia, Keturah, Malvina, Melinda, Sabrina, Alpina, Oriana.

The-gift-of-God Stringer,
Repentant Hazel,
Zealous King,
Be-thankful Playnard,
Live-in-peace Hillary,
Obediencia Cruttenden,
Goodgift Noake,
The-work-of-God Farmer,
More-tryal Goodwin,
Faithful Long,
Joy-from-above Brown,
Be-of-good-comfort Small,
Godward Freeman,
Thunder Goldsmith.
Faint-not Hewett,
Redeemed Compton,
God-reward Smart,
Earth Adams,
Meek Brewer,
Repentance Avis,
Kill-sin Pimple,
Be-faithful Joiner,
More-fruit Flower,
Grace-ful Harding,
Seek-wisdom Wood,
Fight-the-good-fight-of-faith White,
Accepted Trevor,
Make-peace Heaton,
Stand-fast-on-high Stringer,
Called Lower,
Be-courteous Cole,
Search-the-scriptures Moreton,
Return Spelman,
Fly-debate Roberts,
Hope-for Bending,
Weep-not Billing,
Elected Mitchell,
The-peace-of-God Knight

SIMILES.
Prayer is Faith’s pump, where’t works till the water come;
If’t comes not free at first, Faith puts in some.
Prayer is the sacred bellows; when these blow,
How doth that live-coal from God’s altar glow!
Faithful Teate’s Ter. Tria., 1658.

Walking in the streets, I met a cart that came near the wall; so I stepped
aside, to avoid it, into a place where I was secure enough. Reflection: Lord,
sin is that great evil of which thou complainest that thou art pressed as a
cart is pressed: how can it then but bruise me to powder?—Caleb
Trenchfield’s Chris. Chymestree.

EARLY PUNISHMENTS IN MASSACHUSETTS.

From the early records of Massachusetts we learn that the following
singular punishments were inflicted in that colony two hundred years ago:
—
Sir Richard Salstonstall, fined four bushels of malt for his absence from the
court.
Josias Plaistowe, for stealing four baskets of corn from the Indians, to
return them eight baskets again, to be fined £5, and hereafter to be called
Josias, not Mr. as he used to be.
Thomas Peter, for suspicions of slander, idleness, and stubbornness, is to be
severely whipped and kept in hold.
Capt. Stone, for abusing Mr. Ludlow by calling him justass, fined £100, and
prohibited coming within the patent.
Joyce Dradwick to give unto Alexander Becks 20s., for promising him
marriage without her friends’ consent, and now refusing to perform the
same.
Richard Turner, for being notoriously drunk, fined £2.
Edward Palmer, for his extortion in taking 32s. 7d. for the plank and work
of Boston stocks, fined £5, and sentenced to sit one hour in the stocks.
John White bound in £10 to good behavior, and not come into the company
of his neighbor Thomas Bell’s wife alone.

VIRGINIA PENALTIES IN THE OLDEN TIME.

From the old records in the Court House of Warwick County, Virginia, we
extract some entries of decisions by the court under date of October 21,
1663. It may be worth while to remark that at that early period tobacco was
not only a staple commodity but a substitute for currency.
“Mr. John Harlow, and Alice his wife, being by the grand inquest presented
for absenting themselves from church, are, according to the act, fined each
of them fifty pounds of tobacco; and the said Mr. John Harlow ordered
forthwith to pay one hundred pounds of tobacco to the sheriff, otherwise the
said sheriff to levy by way of distress.”
“Jane Harde, the wife of Henry Harde, being presented for not ’tending
church, is, according to act, fined fifty pounds of tobacco; and the sheriff is
ordered to collect the same from her, and, in case of non-payment, to
distress.”
“John Lewis, his wife this day refusing to take the oath of allegiance, being
ordered her, is committed into the sheriff’s custody, to remain until she take
the said oath, or until further ordered to the contrary.”
“John Lewis, his wife for absenting herself from church, is fined fifty
pounds of tobacco, to be collected by the sheriff from her husband; and
upon non-payment, the said sheriff to distress.”
“George Harwood, being prosecuted for his absenting himself from church,
is fined fifty pounds of tobacco, to be levied by way of distress by the
sheriff upon his non-payment thereof.”
“Peter White and his wife, being presented for common swearing, are fined
fifty pounds of tobacco, both of them; to be collected by the sheriff from the
said White, and, upon non-payment of the same, to distress.”
“Richard King, being presented as a common swearer, is fined fifty pounds
of tobacco, to be levied by the sheriff, by way of distress, upon his non-
payment.”

EXTRACTS FROM THE CONNECTICUT BLUE LAWS.
When these free states were colonies
Unto the mother nation,
And in Connecticut the good
Old Blue Laws were in fashion.

The following extracts from the laws ordained by the people of New Haven,
previous to their incorporation with the Saybrook and Hartford colonies,
afford an idea of the strange character of their prohibitions. As the
substance only is given in the transcription, the language is necessarily
modernized:—
No quaker or dissenter from the established worship of the dominion shall
be allowed to give a vote for the election of magistrates, or any officer.
No food or lodging shall be afforded to a quaker, adamite, or other heretic.
If any person turns quaker, he shall be banished, and not suffered to return,
but upon pain of death.
No priest shall abide in the dominion: he shall be banished, and suffer death
on his return. Priests may be seized by any one without a warrant.
No man to cross a river but with an authorized ferryman.
No one shall run on the sabbath-day, or walk in his garden, or elsewhere,
except reverently to and from meeting.
No one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house, cut hair or
shave, on the sabbath-day.
No woman shall kiss her child on the sabbath or fasting-day.
The sabbath shall begin at sunset on Saturday.
To pick an ear of corn growing in a neighbor’s garden shall be deemed
theft.
A person accused of trespass in the night shall be judged guilty, unless he
clear himself by oath.

When it appears that an accused has confederates, and he refuses to
discover them, he may be racked.
No one shall buy or sell lands without permission of the selectmen.
A drunkard shall have a master appointed by the selectmen, who are to
debar him the liberty of buying and selling.
Whoever publishes a lie to the prejudice of his neighbor, shall sit in the
stocks or be whipped fifteen stripes.
No minister shall keep a school.
Men-stealers shall suffer death.
Whoever wears clothes trimmed with gold, silver, or bone lace, above two
shillings by the yard, shall be presented by the grand jurors, and the
selectmen shall tax the offender at £300 estate.
A debtor in prison, swearing he has no estate, shall be let out, and sold to
make satisfaction.
Whoever sets a fire in the woods, and it burns a house, shall suffer death;
and persons suspected of this crime shall be imprisoned without benefit of
bail.
Whoever brings cards or dice into this dominion shall pay a fine of £5.
No one shall read common-prayer, keep Christmas or saint-days, make
minced pies, dance, play cards, or play on any instrument of music, except
the drum, trumpet, and Jews-harp.
No gospel minister shall join people in marriage; the magistrates only shall
join in marriage, as they may do it with less scandal to Christ’s church.
When parents refuse their children convenient marriages, the magistrate
shall determine the point.
The selectmen, on finding children ignorant, may take them away from
their parents, and put them into better hands, at the expense of their parents.
A man that strikes his wife shall pay a fine of £10; a woman that strikes her
husband shall be punished as the court directs.
A wife shall be deemed good evidence against her husband.

Married persons must live together, or be imprisoned.
No man shall court a maid in person, or by letter, without first obtaining
consent of her parents: £5 penalty for the first offence; £10 for the second;
and for the third, imprisonment during the pleasure of the court.
Every male shall have his hair cut round according to a cap.

Paronomasia.
Hard is the job to launch the desperate pun;
A pun-job dangerous as the Indian one.—Holmes.

Life and language are alike sacred. Homicide and verbicide—that is, violent treatment of a word with
fatal results to its legitimate meaning, which is its life—are alike forbidden. Manslaughter, which is
the meaning of the one, is the same as man’s laughter, which is the end of the other.—Ibid.

The quaint Cardan thus defineth:—“Punning is an art of harmonious
jingling upon words, which, passing in at the ears and falling upon the
diaphragma, excites a titillary motion in those parts; and this, being
conveyed by the animal spirits into the muscles of the face, raises the
cockles of the heart.”
“He who would make a pun would pick a pocket,” is the stereotyped dogma
fulminated by laugh-lynchers from time immemorial; or, as the Autocrat
hath it, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social
intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who
would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses
of the paternal till without remorse, and repeat the banquet of Saturn
without an indigestion.” The “inanities of this working-day world” cannot
perceive any wittiness or grace in punning; and yet, according to the
comprehensive definition of wit by Dr. Barrow, the eminent divine, it
occupies a very considerable portion of the realm of wit. He says, “Wit is a
thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many
postures, so many garbs, so variously apprehended by several eyes and
judgments, that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear and certain notion
thereof, than to make a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of the
fleeting air. Sometimes it lieth in pat allusions to a known story, or in
seasonable application of a trivial saying, or in feigning an apposite tale;

sometimes it playeth in words and phrases, taking advantage of the
ambiguity of their sense, or the affinity of their sound; sometimes it is
wrapped in a dress of humorous expression, sometimes it lurketh under an
odd similitude; sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart answer,
in a quirkish reason, in a shrewd intimation, in cunningly, divertingly, or
cleverly retorting an objection; sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of
speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a
plausible reconciling of contradictions, or in acute nonsense; sometimes a
scenic representation of persons or things, a counterfeit speech, a mimic
look or gesture, passeth for it. Sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes
a presumptuous bluntness, giveth it being. Sometimes it riseth only from a
lucky hitting upon what is strange; sometimes from a crafty wresting of
obvious matter to the purpose. Often it consisteth of one knows not what,
and springeth up one can hardly tell how. Its ways are unaccountable and
inexplicable, being answerable to the numberless rovings of fancy and
windings of language.”
If this definition be true, there is truth as well as wit in the punster’s reply to
the taunt of the rhetorician that “punning is the lowest species of wit.”
“Yes,” said he, “for it is the foundation of all wit.” But, whatever may be
said of the practice by those who affect to despise it, it has been much in
vogue in all ages. Horne, in his Introduction to the Critical Study of the
Holy Scriptures, tells us that it was a very favorite figure of rhetoric among
the Hebrews, and is yet common among most of the Oriental nations.
Professor Stuart, in his Hebrew grammar, gives numerous examples of it in
the Old Testament, and Winer and Horne point out others in the New
Testament, especially in the writings of St. Paul. These cannot, of course, be
equivalently expressed in English.
Many of the Greek authors exhibit a fondness for this rhetorical figure, and
some of the most excellent puns extant are to be found in the Greek
Anthologies. As a specimen, the following is given from Wesseling’s
Diodorus Siculus:—

Dioscurus, an Egyptian bishop, before he began the service, had the
common custom of saying ειρηνη πασιν, (irene pasin,) peace be to all. It
was notorious that the pious churchman had at home a favorite mistress,

whose name was Irene, which incident produced the following smart
epigram:—
Ειρηνη παντεσσιν επισκοπος ειπεν εχελθων
Πως δυναται πασιν, ἡν μονος ενδον εχει;

(The good bishop wishes peace—Irene—to all;
But how can he give that to all, which he keeps to himself at home?)

A PUN-GENT CHAPTER.

At one time there was a general strike among the workingmen of Paris, and
Theodore Hook gave the following amusing account of the affair:—“The
bakers, being ambitious to extend their do-mains, declared that a revolution
was needed, and, though not exactly bred up to arms, soon reduced their
crusty masters to terms. The tailors called a council of the board, to see
what measures should be taken, and, looking upon the bakers as the flower
of chivalry, decided to follow suit; the consequence of which was, that a
cereous insurrection was lighted up among the candle-makers, which,
however wick-ed it might appear in the eyes of some persons, developed
traits of character not unworthy of ancient Greece.”
Why should no man starve on the deserts of Arabia?
Because of the sand which is there.
How came the sandwiches there?
The tribe of Ham was bred there, and mustered.

A clergyman who had united in marriage a couple whose Christian names
were Benjamin and Annie, on being asked by a mutual friend how they
appeared during the ceremony, replied that they appeared both annie-mated
and bene-fitted.
Mr. Manners, who had but lately been created Earl of Rutland, said to Sir
Thomas More, just made Lord Chancellor,—
“You are so much elated with your preferment that you verify the old
proverb,—
Honores mutant Mores.”

“No, my lord,” said Sir Thomas: “the pun will do much better in English:—
Honors change Manners.”

An old writer said that when cannons were introduced as negotiators, the
canons of the church were useless; that the world was governed first by
mitrum, and then by nitrum,—first by St. Peter, and then by saltpetre.

Column, the dramatist, on being asked whether he knew Theodore Hook,
replied, “Oh, yes: Hook and Eye are old associates.”
Punch says, “the milk of human kindness is not to be found in the pail of
society.” If so, we think it is time for all hands to “kick the bucket.”
Judge Peters, formerly of the Philadelphia Bench, observed to a friend,
during a trial that was going on, that one of the witnesses had a vegetable
head. “How so?” was the inquiry. “He has carroty hair, reddish cheeks, a
turnup nose, and a sage look.”
Tom Hood, seeing over the shop-door of a beer-vendor,—
Bear Sold Here,

said it was spelled right, because it was his own Bruin.
Charles Mathews, the comedian, was served by a green-grocer, named
Berry, and generally settled his bill once a quarter. At one time the account
was sent in before it was due, and Mathews, laboring under an idea that his
credit was doubted, said, “Here’s a pretty mull, Berry. You have sent in your
bill, Berry, before it is due, Berry. Your father, the elder Berry, would not
have been such a goose, Berry; but you need not look so black, Berry, for I
don’t care a straw, Berry, and sha’n’t pay you till Christmas, Berry.”
Sheridan, being dunned by a tailor to pay at least the interest on his bill,
answered that it was not his interest to pay the principal, nor his principle to
pay the interest.
In the “Old India House” may still be seen a quarto volume of Interest
Tables, on the fly-leaf of which is written, in Charles Lamb’s round, clerkly
hand,—
“A book of much interest.”—Edinburgh Review.
“A work in which the interest never flags.”—Quarterly Review.
“We may say of this volume, that the interest increases from the beginning to the end.”—Monthly
Review.

Turner, the painter, was at a dinner where several artists, amateurs, and
literary men were convened. A poet, by way of being facetious, proposed as
a toast, “The Painters and Glaziers of England.” The toast was drunk; and
Turner, after returning thanks for it, proposed “Success to the Paper-
Stainers,” and called on the poet to respond.

SHORT ROAD TO WEALTH.
I’ll tell you a plan for gaining wealth,
Better than banking, trade, or leases;
Take a bank-note and fold it across,
And then you will find your money IN-CREASES!

This wonderful plan, without danger or loss,
Keeps your cash in your hands, and with nothing to trouble it;
And every time that you fold it across,
’Tis plain as the light of the day that you DOUBLE IT!

“I cannot move,” the plaintive invalid cries,
“Nor sit, nor stand.”—If he says true, he lies.

Dr. Johnson having freely expressed his aversion to punning, Boswell
hinted that his illustrious friend’s dislike to this species of small wit might
arise from his inability to play upon words. “Sir”, roared Johnson, “if I were
punish-ed for every pun I shed, there would not be left a puny shed of my
punnish head.” Once, by accident, he made a singular pun. A person who
affected to live after the Greek manner, and to anoint himself with oil, was
one day mentioned to him. Johnson, in the course of conversation on the
singularity of his practice, gave him the denomination of this man of
Grease.
Sydney Smith—so Lord Houghton in his Monographs tells us—has written
depreciatingly of all playing upon words; but his rapid apprehension could
not altogether exclude a kind of wit which, in its best forms, takes fast hold
of the memory, besides the momentary amusement it excites. His objection
to the superiority of a city feast: “I cannot wholly value a dinner by the test
you do (testudo);”—his proposal to settle the question of the wood
pavement around St. Paul’s: “Let the Canons once lay their heads together
and the thing will be done;”—his pretty compliment to his friends, Mrs.
Tighe and Mrs. Cuffe: “Ah! there you are: the cuff that every one would
wear, the tie that no one would loose”—may be cited as perfect in their
way.
Admiral Duncan’s address to the officers who came on board his ship for
instructions, previous to the engagement with Admiral de Winter, was

laconic and humorous: “Gentlemen, you see a severe Winter approaching; I
have only to advise you to keep up a good fire.”
Theodore Hook plays thus on the same name:—
Here comes Mr. Winter, inspector of taxes;
I advise you to give him whatever he axes;
I advise you to give him without any flummery,
For though his name’s Winter his actions are summary.

Henry Erskine’s toast to the mine-owners of Lancashire:—
Sink your pits, blast your mines, dam your rivers, consume your manufactures, disperse your
commerce, and may your labors be in vein.

TOM MOORE.
When Limerick, in idle whim,
Moore as her member lately courted,
’The boys,’ for form’s sake, asked of him
To state what party he supported.

When thus his answer promptly ran,
(Now give the wit his meed of glory:)
“I’m of no party as a man,
But as a poet am-a-tory.”

TOP AND BOTTOM.

The following playful colloquy in verse took place at a dinner-table,
between Sir George Rose and James Smith, in allusion to Craven street,
Strand, where the latter resided:—
J. S.—At the top of my street the attorneys abound,
And down at the bottom the barges are found:
Fly, honesty, fly to some safer retreat,
For there’s craft in the river, and craft in the street.

Sir G. R.—Why should honesty fly to some safer retreat,
From attorneys, and barges, od-rot ’em?
For the lawyers are just at the top of the street,
And the barges are just at the bottom.

OLD JOKE VERSIFIED.
Says Tom to Bill, pray tell me, sir,
Why is it that the devil,
In spite of all his naughty ways,
Can never be uncivil?

Says Bill to Tom, the answer’s plain
To any mind that’s bright:
Because the imp of darkness, sir,
Can ne’er be imp o’ light.

A PRINTER’S EPITAPH.
Here lies a form—place no imposing stone
To mark the head, where weary it is lain;
’Tis matter dead!—its mission being done,
To be distributed to dust again.
The body’s but the type, at best, of man,
Whose impress is the spirit’s deathless page;
Worn out, the type is thrown to pi again,
The impression lives through an eternal age.

STICKY.
I want to seal a letter, Dick,
Some wax pray give to me.—
I have not got a single stick,
Or whacks I’d give to thee.

WOMEN.
When Eve brought woe to all mankind,
Old Adam called her wo-man;
But when she woo’d with love so kind,
He then pronounced her woo-man.

But now with folly and with pride,
Their husbands’ pockets trimming,
The ladies are so full of whims,
The people call them whim-men.

BEN, THE SAILOR.
His death, which happened in his berth,
At forty odd befell:
They went and told the sexton, and
The sexton tolled the bell.—Hood’s Faithless Sally Brown.

WHISKERS VERSUS RAZOR.
With whiskers thick upon my face
I went my fair to see;
She told me she could never love
A bear-faced chap like me.

I shaved then clean, and called again,
And thought my troubles o’er;
She laughed outright, and said I was
More bare-faced than before!

COMPLIMENT OF SHERIDAN TO MISS PAYNE.
’Tis true I am ill; but I cannot complain,
For he never knew pleasure who never knew Payne.

FROM DR. HOLMES’ “MODEST REQUEST.”
Thus great Achilles, who had shown his zeal
In HEALING WOUNDS, died of a WOUNDED HEEL;
Unhappy chief, who, when in childhood doused,
Had saved his BACON had his feet been SOUSED!
Accursed heel, that killed a hero stout!
Oh, had your mother known that you were out,
Death had not entered at the trifling part
That still defies the small chirurgeon’s art
With corn and BUNIONS,—not the glorious John
Who wrote the book we all have pondered on,—
But other BUNIONS, bound in fleecy hose,
To “Pilgrim’s Progress” unrelenting foes!

PLAINT OF THE OLD PAUPER.
Some boast of their FORE-fathers—I—
I have not ONE!
I am, I think, like Joshua,
The son of NONE!

Heedless in youth, we little note
How quick time passes,
For then flows ruby wine, not sand,
In OUR glasses!

Rich friends (most pure in honor) all have fled
Sooner or later;
Pshaw! had they India’s spices, they’d not be
A nutmeg-GRATER!

I’ve neither chick nor child; as I have nothing,
Why, ’tis lucky rather;
Yet who that hears a squalling baby wishes
Not to be FATHER?

Some few years back my spirits and my youth
Were quite amazin’;
Brisk as a pony, or a lawyer’s clerk,
Just fresh from Gray’s Inn!

What am I now? weak, old, and poor, and by
The parish found;
Their PENCE keeps me, while many an ass
Enjoys the parish POUND!

TO MY NOSE.
Knows he that never took a pinch,
Nosey! the pleasure thence which flows?
Knows he the titillating joy
Which my nose knows?

Oh, nose! I am as fond of thee
As any mountain of its snows!
I gaze on thee, and feel that pride
A Roman knows!

BOOK-LARCENY.
Sir Walter Scott said that some of his friends were bad accountants, but
excellent book-keepers.
How hard, when those who do not wish
To lend—that’s lose—their books,
Are snared by anglers—folks that fish
With literary hooks;

Who call and take some favorite tome,
But never read it through;
They thus complete their sett at home,
By making one of you.

I, of my Spenser quite bereft,
Last winter sore was shaken;
Of Lamb I’ve but a quarter left,
Nor could I save my Bacon.

They picked my Locke, to me far more
Than Bramah’s patent worth;
And now my losses I deplore,
Without a Home on earth.

Even Glover’s works I cannot put
My frozen hands upon;
Though ever since I lost my Foote,
My Bunyan has been gone.

My life is wasting fast away;
I suffer from these shocks;
And though I’ve fixed a lock on Gray,
There’s gray upon my locks.

They still have made me slight returns,
And thus my grief divide;
For oh! they’ve cured me of my Burns,
And eased my Akenside.

But all I think I shall not say,
Nor let my anger burn;
For as they have not found me Gay,
They have not left me Sterne.

THE VEGETABLE GIRL.
Behind a market stall installed,
I mark it every day,
Stands at her stand the fairest girl
I’ve met with in the bay;
Her two lips are of cherry red,
Her hands a pretty pair,
With such a pretty turn-up nose,
And lovely reddish hair.

’Tis there she stands from morn till night
Her customers to please,
And to appease their appetite
She sells them beans and peas.
Attracted by the glances from
The apple of her eye,
And by her Chili apples, too,
Each passer-by will buy.

She stands upon her little feet,
Throughout the livelong day,
And sells her celery and things,—
A big feat, by the way.
She changes off her stock for change,
Attending to each call;
And when she has but one beet left,
She says, “Now that beats all.”

EPITAPH ON AN OLD HORSE.
Here lies a faithful steed,
A stanch, uncompromising “silver gray;”
Who ran the race of life with sprightly speed,
Yet never ran—away.

Wild oats he never sowed,
Yet masticated tame ones with much zest:
Cheerful he bore each light allotted load,
As cheerfully took rest.

Bright were his eyes, yet soft,
And in the main his tail was white and flowing;
And though he never sketched a single draught,
He showed great taste for drawing.

Lithe were his limbs, and clean,
Fitted alike for buggy or for dray,
And like Napoleon the Great, I ween,
He had a martial neigh.

Oft have I watched him grace
His favorite stall, well littered, warm, and fair,
With such contentment shining from his face,
And such a stable air!

With here and there a speck
Of roan diversifying his broad back,
And, martyr-like, a halter round his neck,
Which bound him to the rack.

Mors omnibus! at length
The hay-day of his life was damped by death;
So, summoning all his late remaining strength,
He drew his—final breath.

GRAND SCHEME OF EMIGRATION.
The Brewers should to Malt-a go,
The Loggerheads to Scilly,
The Quakers to the Friendly Isles,
The Furriers all to Chili.

The little squalling, brawling brats,
That break our nightly rest,
Should be packed off to Baby-lon,
To Lap-land, or to Brest.

From Spit-head Cooks go o’er to Greece;
And while the Miser waits
His passage to the Guinea coast,
Spendthrifts are in the Straits.

Spinsters should to the Needles go,
Wine-bibbers to Burgundy;
Gourmands should lunch at Sandwich Isles,
Wags in the Bay of Fun-dy.

Musicians hasten to the Sound,
The surpliced Priest to Rome;
While still the race of Hypocrites
At Cant-on are at home.

Lovers should hasten to Good Hope;
To some Cape Horn is pain;
Debtors should go to Oh-i-o,
And Sailors to the Main-e.

Hie, Bachelors, to the United States!
Maids, to the Isle of Man;
Let Gardeners go to Botany Bay,
And Shoeblacks to Japan.

Thus, emigrants and misplaced men
Will then no longer vex us;
And all that a’n’t provided for
Had better go to Texas.

THE PERILOUS PRACTICE OF PUNNING.
Theodore Hook thus cautions young people to resist provocation to the
habit of punning:—
My little dears, who learn to read, pray early learn to shun
That very silly thing indeed which people call a pun.
Read Entick’s rules, and ’twill be found how simple an offence
It is to make the self-same sound afford a double sense.
For instance, ale may make you ail, your aunt an ant may kill,
You in a vale may buy a vail, and Bill may pay the bill,
Or if to France your bark you steer, at Dover it may be,
A peer appears upon the pier, who, blind, still goes to sea.
Thus one might say when to a treat good friends accept our greeting,
’Tis meet that men who meet to eat, should eat their meat when meeting.
Brawn on the board’s no bore indeed, although from boar prepared;
Nor can the fowl on which we feed foul feeding be declared.
Thus one ripe fruit may be a pear, and yet be pared again,
And still be one, which seemeth rare, until we do explain.
It therefore should be all your aim to speak with ample care;
For who, however fond of game, would choose to swallow hair?
A fat man’s gait may make us smile, who has no gate to close;
The farmer sitting on his stile no stylish person knows;
Perfumers men of scents must be; some Scilly men are bright;
A brown man oft deep read we see—a black a wicked wight.
Most wealthy men good manners have, however vulgar they,
And actors still the harder slave the oftener they play;
So poets can’t the baize obtain unless their tailors choose,
While grooms and coachmen not in vain each evening seek the mews.
The dyer who by dying lives, a dire life maintains;
The glazier, it is known, receives his profits from his panes;
By gardeners thyme is tied, ’tis true, when Spring is in its prime,
But time or tide won’t wait for you, if you are tied for time.
There now you see, my little dears, the way to make a pun;
A trick which you, through coming years, should sedulously shun.
The fault admits of no defense, for wheresoe’er ’tis found,
You sacrifice the sound for sense, the sense is never sound.
So let your words and actions too, one single meaning prove,
And, just in all you say or do, you’ll gain esteem and love:
In mirth and play no harm you’ll know, when duty’s task is done;
But parents ne’er should let you go unpunished for a pun.

The motto of the Pilotage Commission of the river Tyne:—

In portu salus.
In port you sail us.

SONNET
On a youth who died from a surfeit of fruit.

Currants have checked the current of my blood,
And berries brought me to be buried here;
Pears have pared off my body’s hardihood,
And plums and plumbers spare not one so spare:
Fain would I feign my fall; so fair a fare
Lessens not fate, but ’tis a lesson good:
Gilt will not long hide guilt; such thin-washed ware
Wears quickly, and its rude touch soon is rued.
Grave on my grave some sentence grave and terse,
That lies not, as it lies upon my clay;
But, in a gentle strain of unstrained verse,
Prays all to pity a poor patty’s prey;
Rehearses I was fruit-full to my hearse,
Tells that my days are told, and soon I’m toll’d away!

Previous to the battle of Culloden, when Marshal Wade and Generals Cope
and Hawley were prevented by the severity of the weather from advancing
as far into Scotland as they intended, the following lines were circulated
among their opposers:—
Cope could not cope, nor Wade wade through the snow,
Nor Hawley haul his cannon to the foe.

When Mrs. Norton was called on to subscribe to a fund for the relief of
Thomas Hood’s widow, which had been headed by Sir Robert Peel, she sent
a liberal donation with these lines:—
To cheer the widow’s heart in her distress,
To make provision for the fatherless,
Is but a Christian’s duty, and none should
Resist the heart-appeal of widow-Hood.

M. Mario’s visit to this country recalls to mind the sharpest witticism of
Madame Grisi, at the time his wife, and one of the best bits of repartee on
record. Louis Phillippe, passing through a room where Grisi stood, holding
two of her young children by the hand, said gaily: “Ah! Madame, are those,
then, some of your little Grisettes?” “No, Sire,” was the quick reply, perfect
in every requirement of the pun, “No, Sire, these are my little Marionettes.”

A learned judge, of facetious memory, is reported to have said, in an
argument in arrest of the judgment of death, “I think we had better let the
subject drop.”

SWIFT’S LATIN PUNS.

Among the nugæ of Dean Swift are his celebrated Latin puns, some of
which are well known, having been frequently copied, and having never
been excelled. The following selections will serve as specimens. They
consist entirely of Latin words; but, by allowing for false spelling, and
running the words into each other, the sentences make good sense in
English:—
Mollis abuti, (Moll is a beauty,
Has an acuti, Has an acute eye,
No lasso finis, No lass so fine is,
Molli divinis. Molly divine is.
Omi de armis tres, O my dear mistress,
Imi na dis tres, I’m in a distress,
Cantu disco ver Can’t you discover
Meas alo ver? Me as a lover?)

In a subsequent epistolary allusion to this, he says:—
I ritu a verse o na molli o mi ne,
Asta lassa me pole, a lædis o fine;
I ne ver neu a niso ne at in mi ni is;
A manat a glans ora sito fer diis.
De armo lis abuti hos face an hos nos is,
As fer a sal illi, as reddas aro sis;
Ac is o mi molli is almi de lite;
Illo verbi de, an illo verbi nite.

(I writ you a verse on a Molly o’ mine,
As tall as a may pole, a lady so fine;
I never knew any so neat in mine eyes;
A man, at a glance or a sight of her, dies.
Dear Molly’s a beauty, whose face and whose nose is
As fair as a lily, as red as a rose is;
A kiss o’ my Molly is all my delight;
I love her by day, and I love her by night.)

Extract from the consultation of four physicians on a lord that was dying

1st Doctor. Is his honor sic? Præ lætus felis pulse. It do es beat veris loto de.
2d Doctor. No notis as qui cassi e ver fel tu metri it. Inde edit is as fastas an
alarum, ora fire bellat nite.
3d Doctor. It is veri hei!
4th Doctor. Noto contra dictu in my juge mentitis veri loto de. It is as orto
maladi, sum callet. [Here e ver id octo reti resto a par lori na mel an coli
post ure.]
1st D. It is a me gri mas I opi ne.
2d D. No docto rite quit fora quin si. Heris a plane sim tomo fit. Sorites
Paracelsus. Præ re adit.
1st D. Nono, Doctor, I ne ver quo te aqua casu do.
2d D. Sum arso; mi autoris no ne.
3d D. No quare lingat præ senti de si re. His honor is sic offa colli casure as
I sit here.
4th D. It is æther an atro phi ora colli casu sed: Ire membri re ad it in Doctor
me ades esse, here it is.
3d D. I ne ver re ad apage in it, no re ver in tendit.
2d D. Fer ne is offa qui te di ferent noti o nas i here.
1st D. It me bea pluri si; avo metis veri pro perfor a man at his age.

1st D. Is his honor sick? Pray let us feel his pulse. It does beat very slow to-day.
2d D. No, no, ’tis as quick as ever I felt; you may try it. Indeed, it is as fast as an alarum, or a fire-bell
at night.
3d D. It is very high.
4th D. Not to contradict you, in my judgment it is very slow to day. It is a sort of malady, some call it.
(Here every doctor retires to a parlor in a melancholy posture.)
1st D. It is a megrim, as I opine.
2d D. No, doctor, I take it for a quinsy. Here is a plain symptom of it. So writes Paracelsus. Pray read
it.
1st D. No, no, doctor, I never quote a quack as you do.
2d D. Some are so; my author is none.
3d D. No quarrelling at present, I desire. His honor is sick of a colic as sure as I sit here.

4th D. It is either an atrophy, or a colic, as you said. I remember I read it in Dr. Mead’s Essay: here it
is.
3d D. I never read a page in it, nor ever intend it.
2d D. Ferne is of a quite different notion, as I hear.
1st D. It may be a pleurisy; a vomit is very proper for a man at his age.

2d D. Ure par donat præsanti des ire; His dis eas is a cata ride clare it.
3d D. Atlas tume findit as tone in his quid ni es.
4th D. Itis ale pro si fora uti se. Ab lis ter me bene cessa risum de cens. Itis
as ure medi in manicas es.
3d D. I findit isto late tot hinc offa reme di; fori here his honor is de ad.
2d D. His ti meis cum.
1st D. Is it trudo ut hinc?
4th D. It is veri certa in. His Paris his belli sto ringo ut foris de partu re.
3d D. Næ i fis ecce lens is de ad lætus en dum apri esto præ foris sole.
2d D. Your pardon at present I desire. His disease is a catarrh, I declare it.
3d D. At last you may find it a stone in his kidneys.
4th D. It is a leprosy for aught I see. A blister may be necessary some days hence. It is a sure remedy
in many cases.
3d D. I find it is too late to think of a remedy; for I hear his honor is dead.
2d D. His time is come.
1st D. Is it true, do you think?
4th D. It is very certain. His parish bell is to ring out for his departure.
3d D. Nay, if his excellency’s dead, let us send ’em a priest to pray for his soul.

UNCONSCIOUS OR UNINTENTIONAL PUNS.
Elizabeth’s sylvan dress was therefore well suited at once to her height and to the dignity of her mein,
which her conscious rank and long habits of authority had rendered in some degree too masculine to
be seen to the best advantage in ordinary female weeds.—Kenilworth, iii. 9.
I’ll gild the faces of the grooms withal
That it may seem their guilt.—Macbeth.

While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling,
As if to show their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.—Song of the Shirt.

RUSSIAN DOUBLE ENTENDRE.

The following message was sent to the Emperor Nicholas by one of his
generals:—
Voliā Vāschā, ā Varschāvoo vsi’at nemogoo.

{ ‘Volia
is
} but Warsaw I cannot take.

CLASSICAL PUNS AND MOTTOES.
Sydney Smith proposed as a motto for Bishop Burgess, brother to the well-
known fish-sauce purveyor, the following Virgilian pun (Æn. iv. 1),—
Gravi jamdudum saucia curâ.

A London tobacconist, who had become wealthy, and determined to set up
his carriage, applied to a learned gentleman for a motto. The scholar gave
him the Horatian question,—
QUID RIDES?

(Why do you laugh?—Sat. I. 69)—

which was accordingly adopted, and painted on the panel.

A pedantic bachelor had the following inscription on his tea-caddy:—
TU DOCES.

(Thou Tea-chest.)

Epitaph on a Cat, ascribed to Dr. Johnson (Hor. lib. i., c. 12):—
MI-CAT INTER OMNES.

Two gentlemen about to enter an unoccupied pew in a church, the foremost
found it locked. His companion, not perceiving it at the moment, inquired
why he retreated. “Pudor vetat” said he. (Modesty forbids.)

A gentleman at dinner requested a friend to help him to a potato, which he
did, saying, “I think you will find that a good mealy one.” “Thank you,”
quoth the other: “it could not be melior” (better).

A student of Latin, being confined to his room by illness, was called upon
by a friend. “What, John,” said the visitor, “sick, eh?” “Yes,” replied John,

“sic sum” (so I am).

In King’s College were two delinquents named respectively Payne and
Culpepper. Payne was expelled, but Culpepper escaped punishment. Upon
this, a wit wrote the following apt line:—
Pœna perire potest; Culpa perennis est.

Andrew Borde, author of the Breviary of Health, called himself in Latin
Andreas Perforatus. This translation of a proper name was according to the
fashion of the time, but in this instance includes a pun,—perforatus, bored
or pierced.

Joseph II., Emperor of Germany, during a visit to Rome, went to see the
princess Santacroce, a young lady of singular beauty, who had an evening
conversazione. Next morning appeared the following pasquinade. “Pasquin
asks, ‘What is the Emperor Joseph come to Rome for?’ Marforio answers,
‘Abaciar la Santa Croce’”—to kiss the Holy Cross.

On the trial of Garnett, the Superior of the Jesuits, for his participation in
the Gunpowder Plot, Coke, then Attorney-General, concluded his speech
thus:—Qui cum Jesu itis, non itis cum Jesuitis.

A few years ago, several Jesuits came into the lecture-room of an Italian
professor in the University of Pisa, believing he was about to assail a
favorite dogma of theirs. He commenced his lecture with the following
words,—
“Quanti Gesuiti sono all’ inferno!”

(How many Jesuits there are in hell!)

When remonstrated with, he said that his words were—
“Quanti—Gesu!—iti sono all’ inferno!”

(How many people, O Jesus! there are in hell!)

D’Israeli says that Bossuet would not join his young companions, and flew
to his solitary tasks, while the classical boys avenged themselves by a
schoolboy’s pun; applying to Bossuet Virgil’s bos suet-us aratro—the ox
daily toiling in the plough.

John Randolph of Virginia, and Mr. Dana of Connecticut, while fellow-
members of Congress, belonged to different political parties. On one
occasion Mr. Dana paid some handsome compliments to Mr. Randolph.
When the latter spoke in reply, he quoted from Virgil (Æn. ii.):—
Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.

A lady having accidentally thrown down a Cremona fiddle with her mantua,
Dean Swift instantly remarked,—
“Mantua væ miseræ nimium vicina Cremonæ.”

Ah, Mantua, too near the wretched Cremona. (Virg. Ecl. ix. 28.)

To an old gentleman who had lost his spectacles one rainy evening, the
Dean said, “If this rain continues all night, you will certainly recover them
in the morning betimes:
“Nocte pluit tota—redeunt spectacula mane.” (Virgil.)

Quid facies facies veneris si veneris ante?
Ne pereas pereas, ne sedeas, sedeas.

(What will you do if you shall come before the face of Venus? Lest you should perish through them,
do not sit down, but go away.)

Sir William Dawes, Archbishop of York, was very fond of a pun. His clergy
dining with him for the first time after he had lost his wife, he told them he
feared they did not find things in so good order as they used to be in the
time of poor Mary; and, looking extremely sorrowful, added with a deep
sigh, “she was indeed mare pacificum.” A curate who knew pretty well what
her temper had been, said, “Yes, my lord, but she was mare mortuum first.”

That Homer should a bankrupt be,
Is not so very ODD D’YE SEE,
If it be true as I’m instructed,
So ILL HE HAD his books conducted.

PUNNING MOTTOES OF THE ENGLISH PEERAGE.

Ne vile Fano—Disgrace not the altar. Motto of the Fanes.
Ne vile velis—Form no mean wish. The Nevilles.
Cavendo tutus—Secure by caution. The Cavendishes.
Forte scutum, salus ducum—A strong shield the safety of leaders. Lord
Fortescue.
Ver non semper viret—The spring is not always green. Lord Vernon.
Vero nihil verius—Nothing truer than truth. Lord Vere.
Templa quam delecta—Temples how beloved. Lord Temple.

JEUX-DE-MOTS.

SPIRITUAL.

A wag decides—
That whiskey is the key by which many gain an entrance into our prisons
and almshouses.
That brandy brands the noses of all who cannot govern their appetites.
That wine causes many a man to take a winding way home.
That punch is the cause of many unfriendly punches.
That ale causes many ailings, while beer brings many to the bier.
That champagne is the source of many a real pain.
That gin-slings have “slewed” more than the slings of old.
That the reputation of being fond of cock-tails is not a feather in any man’s
cap.
That the money spent for port that is supplied by portly gents would support
many a poor family.
That porter is a weak supporter for those who are weak in body.

ANAGRAMMATIC.

The following sentence is said to be taken from a volume of sermons
published during the reign of James I.:—
This dial shows that we must die all; yet notwithstanding, all houses are
turned into ale houses; our cares into cates; our paradise into a pair o’ dice;
matrimony into a matter of money, and marriage into a merry age; our
divines have become dry vines: it was not so in the days of Noah,—ah! no.

ITERATIVE.

A clerical gentleman of Hartford, who once attended the House of
Representatives to read prayers, being politely requested to remain seated
near the speaker during the debate, found himself the spectator of an
unmarrying process, so alien to his own vocation, and so characteristic of
the readiness of the Legislature of Connecticut to grant divorces, that the
result was the following impromptu:—
For cut-ting all connect-ions famed,
Connect-i-cut is fairly named;
I twain connect in one, but you
Cut those whom I connect in two.
Each legislator seems to say,
What you Connect I cut away.

Finn, the comedian, issued the following morceau upon the announcement
of his benefit at the Tremont Theatre, Boston:—
Like a grate full of coals I burn,
A great, full house to see;
And if I should not grateful prove,
A great fool I should be.

A FAIR LETTER.

The following letter was received by a young lady at the post-office of a
Fair held for the benefit of a church:—
Fairest of the Fair. When such fair beings as you have the fair-ness to
honor our Fair with your fair presence, it is perfectly fair that you should
receive good fare from the fair conductors of this Fair, and indeed it would
be very un-fair if you should not fare well, since it is the endeavor of those
whose wel-fare depends upon the success of this Fair, to treat all who come
fair-ly, but to treat with especial fair-ness those who are as fair as yourself.
We are engaged in a fair cause, a sacred war-fare; that is, to speak without
un-fair-ness, a war-fare, not against the fair sex, but against the pockets of
their beaux. We therefore hope, gentle reader, “still fairest found where all
is fair,” that you will use all fair exertions in behalf of the praiseworthy af-
fair which we have fair-ly undertaken. If you take sufficient interest in our

wel-fare to lend your fair aid, you will appear fair-er than ever in our sight;
we will never treat you un-fair-ly, and when you withdraw the light of your
fair countenance from our Fair, we will bid you a kind Fare-well.
The following was written on the occasion of a duel in Philadelphia, several
years ago:—
Schott and Willing did engage
In duel fierce and hot;
Schott shot Willing willingly,
And Willing he shot Schott.

The shot Schott shot made Willing quite
A spectacle to see;
While Willing’s willing shot went right
Through Schott’s anatomy.

WRITE WRITTEN RIGHT.

Write we know is written right,
When we see it written write;
But when we see it written wright,
We know it is not written right:
For write, to have it written right,
Must not be written right or wright,
Nor yet should it be written rite;
But write, for so ’tis written right.

TURN TO THE LEFT AS THE (ENGLISH) LAW DIRECTS.

The laws of the Road are a paradox quite:
For when you are travelling along,
If you keep to the LEFT you’re sure to be RIGHT,
If you keep to the RIGHT you’ll be WRONG.

I cannot bear to see a bear, bear down upon a hare,
When bare of hair he strips the hare, for hare I cry, “forbear!”

ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF KILDARE.

Who killed Kildare? Who dared Kildare to kill?

Death answers,—
I killed Kildare, and dare kill whom I will.

A CatALECTIC MONODY.

A cat I sing of famous memory,
Though catachrestical my song may be:
In a small garden catacomb she lies,
And cataclysms fill her comrades’ eyes;
Borne on the air, the catacoustic song
Swells with her virtues’ catalogue along;
No cataplasm could lengthen out her years,
Though mourning friends shed cataracts of tears.
Once loud and strong her catechist-like voice.
It dwindled to a catcall’s squeaking noise;
Most categorical her virtues shone,
By catenation joined each one to one;—
But a vile catchpoll dog, with cruel bite,
Like catling’s cut, her strength disabled quite;
Her caterwauling pierced the heavy air,
As cataphracts their arms through legions bear;
’Tis vain! as caterpillars drag away
Their lengths, like cattle after busy day,
She lingering died, nor left in kit kat the
Embodiment of this catastrophe.

NOVEMBER.

(The humorous lines of Hood are only applicable to the English climate,
where the closing month of autumn is synonymous with fogs, long visages,
and suicides.)

No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No roads—no streets—no t’other side the way—
No end to any row—
No indication where the crescents go—
No tops to any steeple—
No recognition of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em—
No travellers at all—no locomotion—
No inkling of the way—no motion—
‘No go’ by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
No warmth—no cheerfulness—no healthful ease—
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade—no shine—no butterflies—no bees—
No fruits—no flowers—no leaves—no birds—
No-vember!

The name of that monster of brutality, Caliban, in Shakspeare’s Tempest, is supposed to be
anagrammatic of Canibal, the old mode of spelling Cannibal.

A SWARM OF BEES.

B patient, B prayerful, B humble, B mild,
B wise as a Solon, B meek as a child;
B studious, B thoughtful, B loving, B kind;
B sure you make matter subservient to mind.
B cautious, B prudent, B trustful, B true,
B courteous to all men, B friendly with few.
B temperate in argument, pleasure, and wine,
B careful of conduct, of money, of time.
B cheerful, B grateful, B hopeful, B firm,
B peaceful, benevolent, willing to learn;
B courageous, B gentle, B liberal, B just,
B aspiring, B humble, because thou art dust;
B penitent, circumspect, sound in the faith,
B active, devoted; B faithful till death.
B honest, B holy, transparent, and pure;
B dependent, B Christ-like, and you’ll B secure.

THE BEES OF THE BIBLE.

Be kindly affectioned one to another.
Be sober, and watch unto prayer.
Be content with such things as ye have.
Be strong in the Lord.
Be courteous.
Be not wise in your own conceits.
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.
Be not children in understanding.
Be followers of God, as dear children.
Be not weary in well-doing.
Be holy in all manner of conversation.
Be patient unto the coming of the Lord.
Be clothed with humility.

FRANKLIN’S “RE’S.”

Dr. Franklin, in England in the year 1775, was asked by a nobleman what
would satisfy the Americans. He answered that it might easily be comprised
in a few “Re’s,” which he immediately wrote on a piece of paper, thus:—

Re-call your forces.
Re-store Castle William.
Re-pair the damage done to Boston.
Re-peal your unconstitutional acts.
Re-nounce your pretensions to taxes.
Re-fund the duties you have extorted.

After this—
Re-quire, and
Re-ceive payment for the destroyed tea, with the voluntary grants of the Colonies; and then
Re-joice in a happy
Re-conciliation.

THE MISS-NOMERS.

After the manner of Horace Smith’s “Surnames ever go by contraries.”

Miss Brown is exceedingly fair,
Miss White is as brown as a berry;
Miss Black has a gray head of hair,
Miss Graves is a flirt ever merry;
Miss Lightbody weighs sixteen stone,
Miss Rich scarce can muster a guinea;
Miss Hare wears a wig, and has none,
And Miss Solomon is a sad ninny!

Miss Mildmay’s a terrible scold,
Miss Dove’s ever cross and contrary;
Miss Young is now grown very old,
And Miss Heavyside’s light as a fairy!
Miss Short is at least five feet ten,
Miss Noble’s of humble extraction;
Miss Love has a hatred towards men,
Whilst Miss Still is forever in action.

Miss Green is a regular blue,
Miss Scarlet looks pale as a lily;
Miss Violet ne’er shrinks from our view,
And Miss Wiseman thinks all the men silly!
Miss Goodchild’s a naughty young elf,
Miss Lyon’s from terror a fool;
Miss Mee’s not at all like myself,
Miss Carpenter no one can rule.

Miss Sadler ne’er mounted a horse,
While Miss Groom from the stable will run;
Miss Kilmore can’t look on a corse,
And Miss Aimwell ne’er levelled a gun;
Miss Greathead has no brains at all,
Miss Heartwell is ever complaining;
Miss Dance has ne’er been at a ball,
Over hearts Miss Fairweather likes reigning!

Miss Wright, she is constantly wrong,
Miss Tickell, alas! is not funny;
Miss Singer ne’er warbled a song,
And alas! poor Miss Cash has no money;
Miss Hateman would give all she’s worth,
To purchase a man to her liking;
Miss Merry is shocked at all mirth,
Miss Boxer the men don’t find striking!

Miss Bliss does with sorrow o’erflow,
Miss Hope in despair seeks the tomb;
Miss Joy still anticipates wo,
And Miss Charity’s never “at home!”
Miss Hamlet resides in the city,
The nerves of Miss Standfast are shaken;
Miss Prettyman’s beau is not pretty

Miss Prettyman s beau is not pretty,
And Miss Faithful her love has forsaken!

Miss Porter despises all froth,
Miss Scales they’ll make wait, I am thinking;
Miss Meekly is apt to be wroth,
Miss Lofty to meanness is sinking;
Miss Seymore’s as blind as a bat,
Miss Last at a party is first;
Miss Brindle dislikes a striped cat,
And Miss Waters has always a thirst!

Miss Knight is now changed into Day,
Miss Day wants to marry a Knight;
Miss Prudence has just run away,
And Miss Steady assisted her flight;
But success to the fair,—one and all!
No miss-apprehensions be making;—
Though wrong the dear sex to miss-call,
There’s no harm, I should hope, in MISS-TAKING.

CROOKED COINCIDENCES.

A pamphlet published in the year 1703 has the following strange title: “The
Deformity of Sin cured; a Sermon preached at St. Michael’s, Crooked-lane,
before the Prince of Orange, by the Rev. J. Crookshanks. Sold by Matthew
Denton, at the Crooked Billet near Cripple-gate, and by all other
booksellers.” The words of the text are, “Every crooked path shall be made
straight;” and the prince before whom it was preached was deformed in
person.

THE COURT-FOOL’S PUN ON ARCHBISHOP LAUD.

Great praise to God, and little Laud to the devil.

English Words and Forms of Expression.

Dictionary English is something very different not only from common
colloquial English, but even from that of ordinary written composition.
Instead of about forty thousand words, there is probably no single author in
the language from whose works, however voluminous, so many as ten
thousand words could be collected. Of the forty thousand words there are
certainly many more than one-half that are only employed, if they are ever
employed at all, on the rarest occasions. We should be surprised to find, if
we counted them, with how small a number of words we manage to express
all that we have to say, either with our lips or with the pen. Our common
literary English probably hardly amounts to ten thousand words; our
common spoken English hardly to five thousand.
Odd words are to be found in the dictionaries. Why they are kept there no
one knows; but what man in his senses would use such words as zythepsary
for a brewhouse, and zymologist for a brewer; would talk of a stormy day
as procellous and himself as madefied; of his long-legged son as increasing
in procerity but sadly marcid; of having met with such procacity from such
a one; of a bore as a macrologist; of an aged horse as macrobiotic; of
important business as moliminous, and his daughter’s necklace as
moniliform; of some one’s talk as meracious, and lament his last night’s
nimiety of wine at that dapatical feast, whence he was taken by ereption?
Open the dictionary at any page, and you will find a host of these words.
By a too ready adoption of foreign words into the currency of the English
language, we are in danger of losing much of its radical strength and
historical significance. Marsh has compared the parable of the man who
built his house upon the sand, as given by Matthew and Luke. Matthew uses
the plain Saxon English. The learned Evangelist, Luke, employed a

Latinized dictionary. “Now,” he says, “compare the two passages and say
which to every English ear, is the most impressive:”
“And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat
upon that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”—Matthew.
“Against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; and
the ruin of that house was great.”—Luke.
There can scarcely be a difference of opinion as to the relative force and
beauty of the two versions, and consequently we find, that while that of
Matthew has become proverbial, the narrative of Luke is seldom or never
quoted.
Trench says that the Anglo-Saxon is not so much one element of the
English language, as the foundation of it—the basis. All its joints, its whole
articulation, its sinews and its ligaments, the great body of articles,
pronouns, conjunctions, prepositions, numerals, auxiliary verbs, all smaller
words which serve to knit together and bind the larger into sentences, these
—not to speak of the grammatical structure of the language—are
exclusively Saxon. The Latin may contribute its tale of bricks, yea, of
goodly and polished hewn stones to the spiritual building, but the mortar,
with all that holds and binds these together, and constitutes them into a
house, is Saxon throughout. As proof positive of the soundness of the above
affirmation, the test is submitted that—“you can write a sentence without
Latin, but you cannot without Saxon.” The words of the Lord’s Prayer are
almost all Saxon. Our good old family Bible is a capital standard of it, and
has done more than any other book for the conservation of the purity of our
language. Our best writers, particularly those of Queen Anne’s time,—
Addison, Steele, Swift, &c.,—were distinguished by their use of simple
Saxon.

SOURCES OF THE LANGUAGE.

Some years ago, a gentleman, after carefully examining the folio edition of
Johnson’s Dictionary, formed the following table of English words derived
from other languages:—
Latin 6,732
French 4,812
Saxon 1,665
Greek 1,148
Dutch 691
Italian 211
German 116
Welsh 95
Danish 75
Spanish 56
Icelandic 50
Swedish 34
Gothic 31
Hebrew 16
Teutonic 15
Arabic 13
Irish 6
Runic 4
Flemish 4
Erse 4
Syriac 3
Scottish 3
Irish and Erse 2
Turkish 2
Irish and Scottish 1
Portuguese 1
Persian 1
Frisi 1
Persic 1
Uncertain 1

Total 15,784

NOUNS OF MULTITUDE.

A foreigner looking at a picture of a number of vessels, said, “See what a
flock of ships.” He was told that a flock of ships was called a fleet, and that
a fleet of sheep was called a flock. And it was added, for his guidance, in
mastering the intricacies of our language, that a flock of girls is called a
bevy, that a bevy of wolves is called a pack, and a pack of thieves is called a
gang, and that a gang of angels is called a host, and that a host of porpoises
is called a shoal, and a shoal of buffaloes is called a herd, and a herd of
children is called a troop, and a troop of partridges is called a covey, and a
covey of beauties is called a galaxy, and a galaxy of ruffians is called a
horde, and a horde of rubbish is called a heap, and a heap of oxen is called a
drove, and a drove of blackguards is called a mob, and a mob of whales is
called a school, and a school of worshippers is called a congregation, and a
congregation of engineers is called a corps, and a corps of robbers is called
a band, and a band of locusts is called a swarm, and a swarm of people is
called a crowd.

DISRAELIAN ENGLISH.

Mr. Disraeli gives us some queer English in his novel of Lothair, as may be
seen in the following examples:—“He guarded over Lothair’s vast
inheritance;” “Lothair observed on” a lady’s singing; “of simple but
distinguished mien, with a countenance naturally pale, though somewhat
bronzed by a life of air and exercise, and a profusion of dark, auburn hair;”
“he engaged a vehicle and ordered to be driven to Leicester Square;” “he
pointed to an individual seated in the centre of the table;” “their mutual
ancestors;” “Is there anything in the Tenebræ why I ought not to be
present?”; “thoughts which made him unconscious how long had elapsed;”
“with no companions than the wounded near them;” “The surgeon was
sitting by her side, occasionally wiping the slight foam from her brow.” We
have heard of people foaming at the mouth, but never before of a lady
foaming at the brow.

“YE” FOR “THE.”

Ye is sometimes used for the in old books wherein the is the more usual
form, on account of the difficulties experienced by the printers in “spacing
out.” When pressed for room they put ye; when they had plenty of room
they put the. Many people in reading old books pronounce the abbreviation
ye. But the proper pronunciation is the, for the y is only a corruption of the
old thorn-letter, or symbol for th.

ITS.

His is the genitive (or as we say, possessive) of he, (he’s,—his,) and it or hit,
as it was long written, is the neuter of he, the final t being the sign of the
neuter. The introduction of its, as the neuter genitive instead of his, arose
from a misconception, similar to that which would have arisen had the
Romans introduced illudius as the neuter genitive of ille, instead of illius.
Its very rarely occurs in our authorized version of the Bible, his or her being
used instead—occurs but a few times in all Shakspeare—was unknown to
Ben Jonson—was not admitted into his poems by Milton—and did not
come into common use until sanctioned by Dryden.

THAT.

The use of the word That in the following examples is strictly in accordance
with grammatical rules:—
The gentleman said, in speaking of the word that, that that that that that
lady parsed, was not that that that that gentleman requested her to analyze.
Now, that is a word that may often be joined,
For that that may be doubled is clear to the mind;
And that that that is right, is as plain to the view,
As that that that that we use, is rightly used too,
And that that that that that line has in it, is right—
In accordance with grammar—is plain in our sight.

I SAY.

A gentleman who was in the habit of interlarding his discourse with the
expression “I say,” having been informed by a friend that a certain
individual had made some ill-natured remarks upon this peculiarity, took
the opportunity of addressing him in the following amusing style of rebuke:
—“I say, sir, I hear say you say I say ‘I say’ at every word I say. Now, sir,
although I know I say ‘I say’ at every word I say, still I say, sir, it is not for
you to say I say ‘I say’ at every word I say.”

PATH-OLOGY.

There once resided in Ayrshire a man who, like Leman, proposed to write
an Etymological Dictionary of the English language. Being asked what he
understood the word pathology to mean, he answered, with great readiness
and confidence, “Why, the art of road-making, to be sure.”

THE PRONUNCIATION OF OUGH.

The difficulty of applying rules to the pronunciation of our language may be
illustrated in two lines, where the combination of the letters ough is
pronounced in no less than seven different ways, viz.: as o, uff, off, up, ow,
oo, and ock:—
Though the TOUGH COUGH and HICCOUGH PLOUGH me THROUGH,
O’er life’s dark LOUGH my course I still pursue.

The following attempts to show the sound of ough, final, are ingenious:—
Though from rough cough or hiccough free,
That man has pain enough
Whose wounds through plough, sunk in a slough,
Or lough begin to slough.

’Tis not an easy task to show,
How o, u, g, h, sound; since though,
An Irish lough, an English slough,
And cough, and hiccough, all allow
Differ as much as tough and through,
There seems no reason why they do.

“Husband,” says Joan, “’tis plain enough
That Roger loves our daughter;
And Betty loves him too, although
She treats his suit with laughter.

“For Roger always hems and coughs,
While on the field he’s ploughing;
Then strives to see between the boughs,
If Betty heeds his coughing.”

The following jeu d’esprit, entitled “A Literary Squabble on the
pronunciation of Monckton Milnes’s Title,” is stated to have been the
production of Lord Palmerston:—

The Alphabet rejoiced to hear,
That Monckton Milnes was made a peer;
For in the present world of letters,
But few, if any, were his betters.
So an address, by acclamation,
They voted, of congratulation.
And O U G H T and N
Were chosen to take up the pen,
Possessing each an interest vital
In the new Peer’s baronial title.
’Twas done in language terse and telling,
Perfect in grammar and in spelling.
But when ’twas read aloud—oh, mercy!
There sprung up such a controversy
About the true pronunciation
Of said baronial appellation.
The vowels O and U averred
They were entitled to be heard.
The consonants denied the claim,
Insisting that they mute became.
Johnson and Walker were applied to,
Sheridan, Bailey, Webster, tried too;
But all in vain—for each picked out
A word that left the case in doubt.
O, looking round upon them all,
Cried, “If it be correct to call
T H R O U G H throo,
H O U G H must be Hoo;
Therefore there must be no dispute on
The question, we should say Lord Hooton.”
U then did speak, and sought to show
He should be doubled, and not O,
For sure if ought and awt, then nought on
Earth could the title be but Hawton.
H, on the other hand, said he,
In cough and trough, stood next to G,
And like an F was then looked oft on,
Which made him think it should be Hofton.
But G corrected H, and drew
Attention other cases to:
Lough, Rough and Chough, more than enough
To prove O U G H spelled uff,
And growled out in a sort of gruff tone
They must pronounce the title Hufton.
N said emphatically No;
For D O U G H is Doh,
And though (look there again) that stuff
At sea for fun, they nickname Duff,
He should propose they took a vote on
The question should it not be Hoton?
Besides, in French ’twould have such force,

, ,
A Lord must be haut ton, of course.
High and more high contention rose,
From words they almost came to blows,
Till S, as yet, who had not spoke,
And dearly loved a little joke,
Put in his word, and said, “Look here,
Plough in this row must have a share.”
At this atrocious pun, each page
Of Johnson whiter grew with rage.
Bailey looked desperately cut up,
And Sheridan completely shut up.
Webster, who is no idle talker,
Made a sign signifying Walker.
While Walker, who had been used badly,
Shook his old dirty dog-ears sadly.
But as we find in prose or rhyme,
A joke, made happily in time,
However poor, will often tend
The hottest argument to end,
And smother anger in a laugh,
So S succeeded with his chaff,
Containing, as it did, some wheat,
In calming this fierce verbal heat.
Authorities were all conflicting,
And S there was no contradicting.
P L O U G H was Plow
Even enough was called enow,
And no one who preferred enough
Would dream of saying “Speed the Pluff.”
So they considered it was wise
With S to make a compromise,
To leave no loop to hang a doubt on
By giving three cheers for Lord Houghton (Howton).

EXCISE.

The following curious document gives the opinion of Lord Mansfield, when
Attorney-General, upon Dr. Johnson’s definition of the word Excise:—
Case.

Mr. Samuel Johnson has lately published a book, entitled A Dictionary of the English Language, in
which the words are deduced from their originals, and illustrated in their different significations by
examples from the best writers. To which are prefixed a history of the Language, and an English
grammar.

Under the title “Excise” are the following words:—
Excise, n. s. (accijs Dutch; excisum, Latin,) a hateful tax levied upon commodities and adjudged not
by the common judges of property, but wretches hired by those to whom Excise is paid.
The people should pay a ratable tax for their sheep, and an
Excise for every thing which they should eat.—Hayward.

Ambitious now to take excise
Of a more fragrant paradise.—Cleveland.

EXCISE.

With hundred rows of teeth the shark exceeds,
And on all trades, like Cassowar, she feeds.—Marvel.

Can hire large houses and oppress the poor
By farmed Excise.—Dryden, Juvenal, Sat. 3.

The author’s definition being observed by the Commissioners of Excise,
they desire the favor of your opinion:
Qu.—Whether it will not be considered as a libel; and, if so, whether it is
not proper to proceed against the author, printers, and publishers thereof, or
any and which of them, by information or how otherwise?

Opinion.

I am of opinion that it is a libel; but, under all the circumstances, I should
think it better to give him an opportunity of altering his definition; and, in
case he don’t, threaten him with an information.
W. Murray.
29th Nov. 1755.

PONTIFF.

Mr. Longfellow, in his Golden Legend, thus refers to the derivation of this
word from pons (a bridge) and facere (to make):—
Well has the name of Pontifex been given
Unto the Church’s head, as the chief builder
And architect of the invisible bridge
That leads from earth to heaven.

ROUGH.

Mr. Motley, in his History of the United Netherlands, IV. 138, thus ascribes
the use of this word to Queen Elizabeth, of England, in her last illness:—
The great queen, moody, despairing, dying, wrapt in profoundest thought, with eyes fixed upon the
ground or already gazing into infinity was besought by the counsellors around her to name the man to
whom she chose that the crown should devolve.
“Not to a Rough,” said Elizabeth, sententiously and grimly.

These particulars are apparently given on the authority of the Italian
Secretary, Scaramelli, whose language is quoted in a foot-note, and who
says that the word Rough “in lingua inglese significa persona bassa e vile.”
Charles Dickens said, “I entertain so strong an objection to the euphonious
softening of ruffian into rough, which has lately become popular, that I
restore the right word to the heading of this paper.” (The Ruffian, by the
Uncommercial Traveler, All the Year Round.) “Lately popular” does not
mean popular for two hundred and eighty years past. A word that has
escaped the notice of the Glossarists cannot have been in use early in the
seventeenth century. That it should have been used in its modern sense by
Queen Elizabeth, passes all bounds of belief. With all her faults she did not
make silly unmeaning remarks; and it would have been extremely silly in
her to say she did not wish a low ruffian to succeed her on the throne. If she
uttered a word having the same sound, it might possibly have been ruff. The
“ruff,” though worn by men of the upper class, was in Queen Elizabeth’s
time an especially female article of dress, and the queen might have said, “I
will have no ruff to succeed me,” just as now-a-days one might say, “I will
have no petticoat government.” We want better authority than that of
Scaramelli before we can believe that Elizabeth used either the word rough
or ruff, when consulted as to her wishes respecting her successor.

NOT AMERICANISMS.

In Bartlett’s Dictionary the term “stocking-feet” is given as an
Americanism. But the following quotation from Thackeray’s Newcomes
(vol. i. ch. viii.) shows that this is an error:—
“Binnie found the Colonel in his sitting-room arrayed in what are called in Scotland his stocking-
feet.”

Professor Tyndall, at the farewell banquet given in his honor by the citizens
of New York, prior to his departure, in referring to his successful lecture-
course in the United States, said he had had—to quote his words—“what
you Americans call ‘a good time.’”
But this expression is not an Americanism. It is used by Dean Swift in his
letter to Stella, (Feb. 24, 1710–11); “I hope Mrs. Wells had a good time.”
That not very elegant adjective bully, though found in Bartlett, and used by
Washington Irving cannot be claimed as an Americanism. Friar Tuck sings,
in Scott’s Ivanhoe:—
“Come troll the brown bowl to me, bully boy,
Come troll the brown bowl to me.”

But to go further back, we find it in the burden of an old three-part song,
“We be three poor Mariners,” in Ravenscroft’s Deuteromelia, 1609:
“Shall we go dance the round, the round,
Shall we go dance the round;
And he that is a bully boy,
Come pledge me on the ground.”

One of the words which the English used to class among Americanisms—
ignorant that it was older and better English than their own usage—was
Fall, used as the name of the third of the seasons. The English, corrupted by
the Johnsonese of the Hanoverian reigns, call it by the Latinism, Autumn.
But the other term, in general use on this side of the Atlantic, is the word by
which all the old writers of the language know it. “The hole yere,” says
scholarly Roger Ascham in his Toxophilus, “is divided into iiii. partes,
Spring tyme, Sommer, Faule of the leafe, & Winter, whereof the hole winter

for the roughnesse of it, is cleane taken away from shoting: except it be one
day amonges xx., or one yeare amonges xi.”
This statement, by the way, that exceptionally mild winters were in the ratio
of one to eleven, is worth noting with reference to the recent announcement
of science that the spots on the sun have an eleven-year period of maximum
frequency.

NO LOVE LOST BETWEEN THEM.

In the ordinary acceptation of the words, “No love was lost between the
two,” we are led to infer that the two were on very unfriendly terms. But in
the ballad of The Babes in the Wood, as given in Percy’s Reliques, occur the
following lines, which convey the contrary idea:—
No love between this two was lost,
Each was to other kind:
In love they lived, in love they died,
And left two babes behind.

THE FORLORN HOPE.

Military and civil writers of the present day seem quite ignorant of the true
meaning of the words forlorn hope. The adjective has nothing to do with
despair, nor the substantive with the “charmer which lingers still behind;”
there was no such poetical depth in the words as originally used. Every
corps marching in an enemy’s country had a small body of men at the head
(haupt or hope) of the advanced guard; and which was termed the forlorne
hope (lorn being here but a termination similar to ward in forward,) while
another small body at the head of the read-guard was called the rere-lorn
hope. A reference to Johnson’s Dictionary shows that civilians were misled
as early as the time of Dryden by the mere sound of a technical military
phrase; and, in process of time, even military men forgot the true meaning
of the words. And thus we easily trace the foundation of an error to which
we are indebted for Byron’s beautiful line:—
The full of hope, misnamed forlorn.

QUIZ.
This word, which is only in vulgar or colloquial use, and which some of the
lexicographers have attempted to trace to learned roots, originated in a joke.
Daly, the manager of a Dublin play-house, wagered that a word of no
meaning should be the common talk and puzzle of the city in twenty-four
hours. In the course of that time the letters q u i z were chalked on all the
walls of Dublin with an effect that won the wager.

TENNYSON’S ENGLISH.

Probably no poet ever more thoroughly comprehended the value of words
in metrical composition than Mr. Tennyson, but he has issued a new coinage
which is not pure. Compound epithets are modelled after the Greek or
revived from the uncritical Elizabethan era. Thus, where we should
naturally say “The bee is cradled in the lily,” Mr. Tennyson writes, “The bee
is lily-cradled.” When a man’s nose is broken at the bridge or a lady’s turns
up at the tip, the one is said to be “a nose bridge-broken,” and the other
(with much gallantry) to be “tip-tilted, like the petal of a flower.”
The movement of the metre again is very peculiar. Discarding Milton’s long
and complex periods, Mr. Tennyson has restored blank verse to an
apparently simple rhythm. But this simplicity is in fact the result of artifice,
and, under every variety of movement, the ear detects the recurrence of a
set type. One of the poet’s favorite devices is to pause on a monosyllable at
the beginning of a line, and this affect is repeated so often as to remind the
reader of Euripides and his unhappy “oil flask” in The Frogs. Take the
following instances:—
And the strange sound of an adulterous race,
Against the iron grating of her cell
Beat.

A sound
As of a silver horn across the hills
Blown.
And then the music faded, and the Grail
Passed.
His eyes became so like her own they seemed
Hers.

“THAT MINE ADVERSARY HAD WRITTEN A BOOK.”
This passage from Job xxxi. 35, is frequently misapplied, being interpreted
as if it had reference to a book or writing as commonly understood. It
means rather, according to Gesenius, a charge or accusation. Pierius makes
it “libellum accusationis,” and Grotius, “scriptam accusationem” Scott
expresses this in his Commentary:—
“Job challenged his adversary, or accuser, to produce a libel or written
indictment against him: he was confident that it would prove no disgrace to
him, but an honor; as every article would be disproved, and the reverse be
manifested.”
Other commentators understand it as meaning a record of Job’s life, or of
his sufferings. Coverdale translates:—“And let him that my contrary party
sue me with a lybell.” In the Genevan version it is, “Though mine
adversarie should write a book against me.” In the Bishop’s Bible, 1595,
“Though mine adversarie write a book against me.” The meaning seems to
have become obscured in our version by retaining the English book instead
of the Latin libel, but omitting the words in italics, “against me.”

ECCENTRIC ETYMOLOGIES.

To trace the changes of form and meaning which many of the words of our
language have undergone is no easy task. There are words as current with
us as with our forefathers, the significance of which, as we use them, is very
different from that of their primitive use. And, in many instances, they have
wandered, by courses more or less tortuous, so far from their original
meaning as to make it almost impossible to follow the track of divergence.
Hence, it is easy to understand why it has been said that the etymologist, to
be successful, must have “an instinct like the special capabilities of the
pointer.” But there are derivations which are only revealed by accident, or
stumbled upon in unexpected ways, and which, in the regular course of
patient search, would never have been elicited. The following illustrative
selections will interest the general reader.

Bombastic.—This adjective has an odd derivation. Originally bombast
(from the Latin bombax, cotton) meant nothing but cotton wadding, used
for filling or stuffing. Shakspeare employs it in this sense in Love’s Labor
Lost, v. 2.
As bombast and as living to the time.

Decker, in his Satyromastix, says, “You shall swear not to bombast out a
new play with the old linings of jests.” And Guazzo, Civile Conversation,
1591,—“Studie should rather make him leane and thinne, and pull out the
bombast of his corpulent doublet.”
Hence, by easy transition from the falseness of padding or puffing out a
figure, bombast came to signify swelling pretentiousness of speech and
conduct as an adapted meaning; and gradually this became the primary and
only sense.

Buxom.—This word is simply bow-some or bough-some, i.e., that which
readily bows, or bends, or yields like the boughs of a tree. No longer ago
than when Milton wrote boughsome, which as gh in English began to lose

its guttural sound,—that of the letter chi in Greek,—came to be written
buxom, meant simply yielding, and was of general application.
——“and, this once known, shall soon return,
And bring ye to the place where thou and Death
Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen
Wing silently the buxom air.”—Paradise Lost, II. 840.

But aided, doubtless, as Dr. Johnson suggests, by a too liberal construction
of the bride’s promise in the old English marriage ceremony, to be
“obedient and buxom in bed and board,” it came to be applied to women
who were erroneously thought likely to be thus yielding; and hence it now
means plump, rosy, alluring, and is applied only to women who combine
those qualities of figure, face and expression.

Cadaver.—An abbot of Cirencester, about 1216, conceived himself an
etymologist, and, as a specimen of his powers, has left us the Latin word
cadaver, a corpse, thus dissected:—“Ca,” quoth he, is abbreviated for caro;
“da” for data; “ver” for vermibus. Hence we have “caro data vermibus,”
flesh given to the worms.
Yet while the reader smiles at this curious absurdity, it is worth while to
note that the word alms is constructed upon a similar principle, being
formed (according to the best authority) of letters, taken from successive
syllables of the cumbrous Latinized Greek word eleemosyna.

Canard.—This is the French for duck, and the origin of its application to
hoaxing is said to be as follows:—To ridicule a growing extravagance in
story-telling a clever journalist stated that an interesting experiment had just
been made, calculated to prove the extraordinary voracity of ducks. Twenty
of these animals had been placed together, and one of them having been
killed and cut up into the smallest possible pieces, feathers and all, and
thrown to the other nineteen, had been gluttonously gobbled up in an
exceedingly brief space of time. Another was taken from the remaining
nineteen, and being chopped small like its predecessor, was served up to the
eighteen, and at once devoured like the other; and so on to the last, which
was thus placed in the remarkable position of having eaten his nineteen
companions in a wonderfully short space of time! All this, most pleasantly

narrated, obtained a success which the writer was far from anticipating, for
the story ran the rounds of all the journals in Europe. It then became almost
forgotten for about a score of years, when it came back from America, with
an amplification which it did not boast of at the commencement, and with a
regular certificate of the autopsy of the body of the surviving animal, whose
esophagus was declared to have been seriously injured! Since then
fabrications of this character have been called canards.

Chum.—A schoolboy’s letter, written two centuries ago, has lately revealed
that chum is a contraction from “chamber-fellow.” Two students dwelling
together found the word unwieldly, and, led by another universal law of
language, they shortened it in the most obvious way.

Dandy.—Bishop Fleetwood says that “dandy” is derived from a silver coin
of small value, circulated in the reign of Henry VIII., and called a “dandy-
prat.”

Dunce.—This word comes to us from the celebrated Duns Scotus, chief of
the Schoolmen of his time. He was “the subtle doctor by preëminence;” and
it certainly is a strange perversion that a scholar of his great ability should
give name to a class who hate all scholarship. When at the Reformation and
revival of learning the works of the Schoolmen fell into extreme disfavor
with the Reformers and the votaries of the new learning, Duns, the
standard-bearer of the former, was so often referred to with scorn and
contempt by the latter that his name gradually became the by-word it now is
for hopeless ignorance and invincible stupidity. The errors and follies of a
set were fastened upon their distinguished head. Says Tyndale, 1575,—
“Remember ye not how within this thirty years, and far less, and yet dureth
unto this day, the old barking curs, Dunce’s disciples, and like draff called
Scotists, the children of darkness, raged in every pulpit against Greek, Latin
and Hebrew?”

Eating humble-pie.—The phrase “eating humble-pie” is traced to the
obsolete French word “ombles,” entrails; pies for the household servants
being formerly made of the entrails of animals. Hence, to take low or