Sept. 12, 1884.] 



KNOWLEDGE ♦ 



221 



after our death, the verses we present to great men and 

 princes, and the sighs of lovers." 



" I know not," said the Marchioness, " what became of 

 the sighs of lovers in Ai-iosto's time, but I fancy there are 

 very few of them ascend to the moon in our days." 



" Ah, madam," replied I, " how many does your Lady- 

 ship send thither every day t Those that are addressed to 

 you, will make a considerable heap ; and I assure you the 

 moon keeps all safe that is lost here below. Yet I must tell 

 you, Ariosto does but whisper it, though every thing is 

 there, even the donation of Constantine, (the Popes have 

 pretended to be masters of Rome and Italy by virtue of a 

 Donation which the Emperor Constantine made Sylvester ; 

 and the truth is, nobody knows what is become of it.) But 

 what do you think is not to be found in the moon 1 Folly ; 

 all that ever was upon the earth is kept there still ; but in 

 lieu of it, it is not to be imagin'd how many wits (if I may 

 so call them) that are lost here, are got up into the moon ; 

 they are so many vials full of a very subtile liquor, 

 which evaporates immediately, if it be not well stopp'd ; 

 and upon every one of these vials the names are 

 written to whom the wits belong ; I think Ariosto 

 has heap'd 'em upon one another a little confusedly ; 

 but, for order sake, we will fancy 'em plac'd upon 

 shelves in a long gallery. Astolfo wondered to see 

 several vials full, inscribed with the names of persons 

 whom he thought considerable for their wisdom. To 

 confess the truth, I begin to fear, since I have entertained 

 you with these philosophical and poetical visions, mine is 

 not very empty : however, 'tis some consolation to me, 

 that while you are so attentive, you have a little glass full, 

 as well as your humble servant. The good knight found 

 his own wits among the rest, and, with the apostle's leave, 

 snuifed it all up his nose, like so much hungary-water ; but 

 Ariosto said he did not carry it far ; it returned again to 

 the moon a little after. 



* The love of one fair Xortheni lass, 



Sent back his wit unto the place it was. 



" Well, he did not forget Orlando's vial, which was the 



occasion of his voyage ; but he was cursedly plagued to 

 carry it, for heroes' wits are naturally very heavy, and 

 there did not want one drop of it. To conclude, Ariosto, 

 according to his laudable custom, addresses himself to his 

 mistress in the following beautiful verses : — 



Fair mistress, who for mo to Heaven shall fly, 

 To bring again from thence my wandering wit ? 



Which I still lose, since from that piercing eye, 

 The dart came forth that first my heart did hit : 



Nor of my loss at all complain would I, 



Might I but keep that which remaineth yet; 



But if it still decrease, within short space, 



I donbt I shall be in Orlando's case. 



Tet, well I wot where to recover mine, 



The' not in Paradise, nor Cynthia's sphere, 



Yet doubtless in a place no less divine, 



In that sweet face of yours, in that fair hair. 



That ruby lip, in those two star-like eyes, 

 There is my wit, I know it wanders there ; 



And with my lips, if yon would give me leave, 



I there would search, I thence would it receive. 



" Is not this very merry 1 To reason like Ariosto, the 

 safest way of losing our wits is to be in love ; for you see 

 they do not go far from us, we may recover 'em again at 

 our lips; but when we lose 'em by other means — as, for 

 example, by philosophising — whip, they are gone into the 

 moon, and there is no coming at 'em again when we 

 would." 



" However," said the Marchioness, " our vials have an 



* Sir J. Harrington's translation of " Orlando Purioso," lib. 36. 



honourable station among the philosophers, when 'tis forty 

 to one but love fixeth our wits on an object we cannot but 

 be ashamed of. But to take away mine entirely, pray tell 

 me, but tell me seriously, if you beUeve there are any men 

 in the moon ; for methinks hitherto you have not been very 

 positive." 



(To be continued). 



©Iritorial (gosstp. 



A CURIOUS illustration of the impossibility of abolishing 

 social distinctions reaches me from the other side of the 

 Atlantic. In an article on " Second-class Cars," in the 

 Railwatj Revieiv (a journal published in Chicago), I read : — 



Xo matter how much we may ignore, theoretically or politically, 

 the existence of class distinctions as something foreign to our 

 system of government, they do exist, nevertheless, as rigorously 

 and as unavoidably here as anywhere e!se, and in the relations o£ 

 business they have got to be dealt with as snch. 



Just SO ; for, as Horace wrote some 1,900 years ago, 

 " Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret." You 

 may decree that one man shall be as good as another (and, 

 according, the Irishman's addendum is the venerable Joe 

 Miller, " A grate dale betther too ! "), yet people will no 

 more meet universally on an equality than oil and water 

 will unite in a bottle. You will never get the possessor of 

 birth, cultivation, and refinement to consort freely with 

 the vulgar and illiterate man, if you shout " Liberty, 

 equality, and fraternity " until you are black in the face ; 

 and the suggestion (from a purely business point of ■i-iew) 

 to establish second-class carriages in the greatest Republic 

 in the world affords pretty convincing proof that it is as 

 impossible, by legislation, to equalise men's social relations 

 as it is the length and shapes of their noses. 



I WAS, I confess, much interested to read extracts from 

 EJsowLEDGE in the Hindu Excelsior Magazine, a monthly 

 Madras journal, conducted — and very ably conducted, too 

 — by a native gentleman, Mr. R. Sivasankara Pandiah, B.A. 

 It is pleasant to find that words penned primarily for 

 Englishmen are read with appreciation by those who, 

 though of different race and creed, and separated from us 

 by so many thousands of miles of land and water, are yet 

 our friends and fellow-subjects. 



Every one who has an interest (and who has not V) in 

 the condition of our Lunacy Laws, should read the re- 

 markable series of papers, " My Experiences in a Mad- 

 house," which began in the Pall Mall Gazette for Aug. 27. 



From some further particulars of the balloon of MM, 

 Renard and Krebs which have been received, it would 

 appear that its lifting power in excess of the entire 

 weight was but small, and that the weather was " presque 

 calme." It remains to be seen what progress can be made 

 against a gale of wind — or even a stiff breeze. I fear that 

 the problem of aerial navigation is not yet solved. 



I HAVE received the Presidential address (on Psychology) 

 of the Hampstead Naturalists' Club, and am glad to find 

 that excellent Local Association in so flourishing a condi- 

 tion. 



The Citizen states that since the removal of the Natural History 



Collections from the British Museum to South Kensington the 

 number of daily visitors has diminished from 2,500 to about 1,000. 



