kinds of hinges are to be met with in our own frames。 The valvular
arrangements of the blood…vessels are unapproached by any artificial
apparatus； and the arrangements for preventing friction are so
perfect that two surfaces will play on each other for fourscore years
or more and never once trouble their owner by catching or rubbing so
as to be felt or heard。
But stranger than these repetitions are the coincidences one finds in
the manners and speech of antiquity and our own time。 In the days
when Flood Ireson was drawn in the cart by the Maenads of Marblehead；
that fishing town had the name of nurturing a young population not
over fond of strangers。 It used to be said that if an unknown
landsman showed himself in the streets； the boys would follow after
him； crying； 〃Rock him！ Rock him！ He's got a long…tailed coat on！〃
Now if one opens the Odyssey； he will find that the Phaeacians； three
thousand years ago； were wonderfully like these youthful
Marbleheaders。 The blue…eyed Goddess who convoys Ulysses； under the
disguise of a young maiden of the place； gives him some excellent
advice。 〃Hold your tongue；〃 she says； 〃and don't look at anybody or
ask any questions； for these are seafaring people； and don't like to
have strangers round or anybody that does not belong here。〃
Who would have thought that the saucy question； 〃Does your mother
know you're out？〃 was the very same that Horace addressed to the bore
who attacked him in the Via Sacra？
Interpellandi locus hic erat； Est tibi mater？
Cognati； queis te salvo est opus？
And think of the London cockney's prefix of the letter h to innocent
words beginning with a vowel having its prototype in the speech of
the vulgar Roman； as may be seen in the verses of Catullus：
Chommoda dicebat； siquando commoda vellet
Dicere； et hinsidias Arrius insidias。
Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum；
Cum quantum poterat； dixerat hinsidias。。。
Hoc misso in Syriam； requierant omnibus aures。。。
Cum subito affertur nuncius horribilis；
Ionios fluctus； postquam illue Arrius isset；
Jam non Ionios esse； sed Hionios。
Our neighbors of Manhattan have an excellent jest about our crooked
streets which； if they were a little more familiar with a native
author of unquestionable veracity； they would strike out from the
letter of 〃Our Boston Correspondent；〃 where it is a source of
perennial hilarity。 It is worth while to reprint； for the benefit of
whom it may concern； a paragraph from the authentic history of the
venerable Diedrich Knickerbocker：
〃The sage council； as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter； not
being able to determine upon any plan for the building of their
city；the cows； in a laudable fit of patriotism； took it under their
peculiar charge； and as they went to and from pasture； established
paths through the bushes； on each side of which the good folks built
their houses； which is one cause of the rambling and picturesque
turns and labyrinths； which distinguish certain streets of New York
at this very day。〃
When I was a little boy there came to stay with us for a while a
young lady with a singularly white complexion。 Now I had often seen
the masons slacking lime； and I thought it was the whitest thing I
had ever looked upon。 So I always called this fair visitor of ours
Slacked Lime。 I think she is still living in a neighboring State；
and I am sure she has never forgotten the fanciful name I gave her。
But within ten or a dozen years I have seen this very same comparison
going the round of the papers； and credited to a Welsh poet； David Ap
Gwyllym； or something like that； by name。
I turned a pretty sentence enough in one of my lectures about
finding poppies springing up amidst the corn； as if it had been
foreseen by nature that wherever there should be hunger that asked
for food； there would be pain that needed relief；and many years
afterwards。 I had the pleasure of finding that Mistress Piozzi had
been beforehand with me in suggesting the same moral reflection。
I should like to carry some of my friends to see a giant bee…hive I
have discovered。 Its hum can be heard half a mile； and the great
white swarm counts its tens of thousands。 They pretend to call it a
planing…mill； but if it is not a bee…hive it is so like one that if a
hundred people have not said so before me； it is very singular that
they have not。 If I wrote verses I would try to bring it in； and I
suppose people would start up in a dozen places； and say； 〃Oh； that
bee…hive simile is mine；and besides； did not Mr。 Bayard Taylor call
the snowflakes 'white bees'？〃
I think the old Master had chosen these trivialities on purpose to
amuse the Young Astronomer and myself； if possible； and so make sure
of our keeping awake while he went on reading； as follows：
How the sweet souls of all time strike the same note； the same
because it is in unison with the divine voice that sings to them！ I
read in the Zend Avesta； 〃No earthly man with a hundred…fold strength
speaks so much evil as Mithra with heavenly strength speaks good。 No
earthly man with a hundred…fold strength does so much evil as Mithra
with heavenly strength does good。〃
And now leave Persia and Zoroaster； and come down with me to our own
New England and one of our old Puritan preachers。 It was in the
dreadful days of the Salem Witchcraft delusion that one Jonathan
Singletary； being then in the prison at Ipswich； gave his testimony
as to certain fearful occurrences；a great noise； as of many cats
climbing； skipping； and jumping； of throwing about of furniture； and
of men walking in the chambers； with crackling and shaking as if the
house would fall upon him。
〃I was at present；〃 he says； 〃something affrighted； yet considering
what I had lately heard made out by Mr。 Mitchel at Cambridge； that
there is more good in God than there is evil in sin； and that
although God is the greatest good and sin the greatest evil； yet the
first Being of evil cannot weave the scales or overpower the first
Being of good： so considering that the authour of good was of greater
power than the authour of evil； God was pleased of his goodness to
keep me from being out of measure frighted。〃
I shall always bless the memory of this poor； timid creature for
saving that dear remembrance of 〃Matchless Mitchel。〃 How many； like
him； have thought they were preaching a new gospel； when they were
only reaffirming the principles which underlie the Magna Charta of
humanity； and are common to the noblest utterances of all the nobler
creeds！ But spoken by those solemn lips to those stern； simpleminded
hearers； the words I have cited seem to me to have a fragrance like
the precious ointment of spikenard with which Mary anointed her
Master's feet。 I can see the little bare meeting…house； with the
godly deacons； and the grave matrons； and the comely maidens； and the
sober manhood of the village； with the small group of college
students sitting by themselves under the shadow of the awful
Presidential Presence； all listening to that preaching； which was； as
Cotton Mather says； 〃as a very lovely song of one that hath a
pleasant voice〃； and as the holy pastor utters those blessed words；
which are not of any one church or age； but of all time； the humble
place of worship is filled with their perfume； as the house where
Mary knelt was filled with the odor of the precious ointment。
The Master rose； as he finished reading this sentence； and； walking
to the window； adjusted a curtain which he seemed to find a good deal
of trouble in getting to hang just as he wanted it。
He came back to his arm…chair； and began reading again
If men would only open their eyes to the fact which stares them in
the face from history； and is made clear enough by the slightest
glance at the condition of mankind； that humanity is of immeasurably
greater importance than their own or any other particular belief；
they would no more attempt to make private property of the grace of
God than to fence in the sunshine for their own special use and
enjoyment。
We are all tattoed in our cradles with the beliefs of our tribe； the
record may seem superficial； but it is indelible。 You cannot educate
a man wholly out of the superstitious fears which were early
implanted in his imagination； no matter how utterly his reason may
reject them； he will still feel as the famous woman did about ghosts；
Je n'y crois pas； mais je les crains；〃I don't believe in them； but
I am afraid of them； nevertheless。〃
As people grow older they come at length to live so much in memory
that they often think with a kind of pleasure of losing their dearest
blessings。 Nothing can be so perfect while we possess it as it will
seem when remembered。 The friend we love best may sometimes weary us
by his presence or vex us by his infirmities。 How sweet to think of
him as he will be to us after we have outlived him ten or a dozen
years！ Then we can recall him in his best moments； bid him stay with
us as long as we want his company； and send him away when we wish to
be alone again。 One might alter Shenstone's well…known epitaph to
suit such a case：
Hen！ quanto m