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Thus written it is an hexameter, and refers to Abel's sacrifice. But read backwards, thus:

Sacrificabo macrum non dabo pingue sacrum,

it is a pentameter, and refers to that of Cain.

IDEES NAPOLEONIENNES.

We hear a vast deal in these ages of what are called Idées Napoléoniennes," the wisdom of Napoleon, and so forth. Some of this is invented by the writers, and ascribed to Napoleon; some of it is no wisdom at all; and some is what may be called second-hand wisdom, an old familiar face with a new dress. Of the latter sort is the famous saying:

From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a step.

For this remark Napoleon has obtained considerable notice; but the truth is, he borrowed it from Tom Paine; Tom Paine borrowed it from Hugh Blair, and Hugh Blair from Longinus. Napoleon's words are:

Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas,

The passage in Tom Paine, whose writings were translated into French as early as 1791, stands thus :

The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately; one step above the sublime makes the ridicu lous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again.

Blair has a remark akin to this:

It is indeed extremely difficult to hit the precise point where true wit ends and buffoonery begins.

But the passage in Blair, from which Tom Paine adopted his notion of the sublime and the ridiculous, is that in which Blair, commenting on Lucan's style, remarks:

It frequently happens that where the second line is sublime, the third, in which he meant to rise still higher, is perfectly bombast.

Lastly, this saying was borrowed by Blair from his brother rhetorician, Longinus, who, in his Treatise on the Sublime, has the following sentence at the beginning of Section III :—

Τεθόλωται γὰρ τῇ φράσει, καὶ τεθορύβηται ταῖς φαντασίας μᾶλλον, ἢ δεδείνωται, κἂν ἕκαστον αὐτῶν πρὸς αὐγὰς ἀνασκοπῆς, ἐκ τοῦ φοβεροῦ κατ ̓ ὀλίγον ὑπονοστει πρὸς τὸ εὐκαταφρόνητον.

It will be seen that the original saying, in its various peregrinations, has undergone a slight modification, Longinus making the transition a gradual one, "kar' oλiyov," while Blair, Paine, and Napoleon make it but "a step." Yet, notwithstanding this disguise, the marks of its paternity are sufficiently traceable.

So much for this celebrated "mot." And, after all, there is very little wit or wisdom in it that is not expressed or suggested by Rousseau's remark :—

Tout état qui brille est sur son déclin ;

or by Beaumarchais' exclamation:

Que les gens d'esprit sont bêtes!

or by the old French proverb :

Les extrêmes se touchent;

or by the English adage :

The darkest hour is nearest the dawn;

or, lastly, by any of the following passages in our own poets:

Wit, like tierce claret, when't begins to pall,

Neglected lies, and's of no use at all;

But in its full perfection of decay

Turns vinegar, and comes again in play.-Rochester.

There's but the twinkling of a star

Between a man of peace and war.-Butler.

Th' extremes of glory and of shame,

Like east and west become the same:

No Indian prince has to his palace

More followers, than a thief to the gallows.-Butler.

For as extremes are short of ill or good,
And tides at highest mark regorge the flood;
So fate, that could no more improve their joy,
Took a malicious pleasure to destroy.-Dryden.

Extremes in nature equal ends produce,

And oft so mix, the difference is too nice

Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.-Pope.

Other instances might be adduced, but these are sufficient to show that the sentiment owes nothing to Napoleon but the sanction of his great name and the pithy sentence in which he has embodied it.

THUNDER.

The following singular definition of thunder occurs in Bailey's Dictionary, vol. i. 17th edit., 1759:

Thunder [Dunder, Sax. &c.], a noise known by persons not deaf.

In Bailey's 2d vol. 2d edition, 1731, the word is much more scientifically treated.

"MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS."

"My mind to me a kingdom is," will be found to be of much earlier date than Nicholas Breton. Percy partly printed it from William Byrd's Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs of Sadnes (no date, but 1588 according to Ames), with some additions and improvements (?) from a B. L. copy in the Pepysian collection.

The following copy is from a contemporary MS. containing many of the poems of Sir Edward Dyer, Edward Earl of Oxford, and their contemporaries, several of which have never been published. The collection appears to have been made by Robert Mills, of Cambridge. It is, at least, much more genuine than the composite one given by Bishop Percy.

My mynde to me a kyngdome is,

Such preasente joyes therein I fynde,

That it excells all other blisse,

That earth affordes or growes by kynde;

Thoughe muche I wante which moste would have,
Yet still my mynde forbiddes to crave.

No princely pompe, no wealthy store,
No force to winne the victorye,
No wilye witt to salve a sore,

No shape to feade a loving eye;

To none of these I yielde as thrall,

For why? my mynde dothe serve for all.

I see howe plenty suffers ofte,

And hasty clymers sone do fall,

I see that those which are alofte

Mishapp dothe threaten moste of all; They get with toyle, they keepe with feare, Suche cares my mynde could never beare.

Content to live, this is my staye,

I seeke no more than maye suffyse,
I presse to bear no haughty swaye;
Look what I lack, my mynde supplies:
Lo, thus I triumph like a kynge,
Content with that my mynde doth brynge.

Some have too muche, yet still do crave,
I little have and seek no more,

They are but poore, though muche they have,
And I am ryche with lyttle store;

They poore, I ryche, they begge, I gyve,
They lacke, I leave, they pyne, I lyve.

I laughe not at another's losse,

I grudge not at another's payne;
No worldly wants my mynde can toss,
My state at one dothe still remayne:

I feare no foe, I fawn no friende,
I lothe not lyfe nor dreade my ende.

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STONE-PILLAR WORSHIP IN IRELAND.

In a work recently published by the Earl of Roden, entitled Progress of the Reformation in Ireland, there occurs a curious account of a remnant of this ancient form of fetichism still existing in Inniskea, an island off the coast of Mayo, with about three hundred and eighty inhabitants, amongst whom, he says,

A stone carefully wrapped up in flannel is brought out at certain periods to be adored; and when a storm arises, this god is supplicated to send a wreck on their coast.-P. 51.

A correspondent in the same volume writes to Lord Roden that

They all speak the Irish language, and among them is a trace of that government by chiefs, which in former times prevailed in Ireland: the present chief or king of Inniskea is an intelligent peasant called CAIN, whose authority is acknowledged, and the settlement of all disputes is referred to his decision. Though nominally Roman Catholics, these islanders have no priest resident among them; they know nothing of the tenets of that church, and their worship consists in occasional meetings at their chief's house, with visits to a holy well called Derirla. The absence of religion is supplied by the open practice of pagan idolatry. In the south island a stone idol, called in the Irish Neevougi, has been from time immemorial religiously preserved and worshipped.

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