word of prophecy: “For, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed."

6.

June is traced from "Junioribus"-for the Youths. As by the former month the older citizens had been favored, so the younger had likewise to be remembered, lest jealousy should arise. Romulus, like a wise ruler, desired the counsel of the aged and the courage of the young and strong, thus securing more effectually the safety of the Commonwealth.

"Juno" may have had something to do with this month, but the learned say that it is a mere surmise. We will not quarrel with any one who may prefer to think so, "for in doubtful things, charity!"

7.

July was ycleped after "Julius Cæsar," who was born during this month.

8.

August was so styled by the Roman Emperor "Augustus." Because of various good fortune which he shared during this part of the year, he baptized it with his own imperial name.

9, 10, 11, 12.

September, October, November and December are Ordinal terms, and egregious misnomers, as the series now runs, however correctly they may have expressed the ideas intended. Those Latin names signify respectively, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth and Tenth. But the months themselves are severally the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth. Whence, this incongruity now? As Romulus had arranged the monthly series, commencing with March, their names rightly corresponded with the places assigned them. But after Numa added two more months, without changing the names of the last four, they became as trumpets, blowing an uncertain sound. We cannot see why the renaming has not taken place for the only four remaining Ordinal names in the series, since the preceding eight had been subjected to such a recasting.

Charles the Great, the famous and wise Emperor of Germany, had become provoked at this evident falsity, but still more at the idea, that Christian nations should retain the titles of Heathen Deities, Heathen Emperors, and Heathen customs for such purposes. He even undertook to recast their entire nomenclature, in a German, modern and Christian mould. Let us glance over it and contrast the Roman with the German plan : 1. January; Wintermonat; the Winter month. 2. February; Hornung; the Muddy month. 3. March; Frühlingsmonat; the Spring month. 4. April; Ostermonat; the Easter month. 5. May; Wonnemonat; the Joyful month. 6. June; Brachmonat; the Fallowing month. 7. July; Heumonat; the Haying month. 8. August; Erndtemonat; the Harvest month. 9. September; Herbstmonat; the Fall month. 10. October; Weinmonat; the Wine month. 11. November; Windmonat; the Wind month.

12. December; Christmonat; the Sacred or Christ month.

Thus did the good and wise Emperor endeavor to supply the civilized world with a homelike, natural and Christian series, and we feel sorry that the limpid but unintelligible Latin flows ever yet so much faster than the more phlegmatic but more transparent Teuton. Still, we need not wonder at this, since it is patent to all, that the world is even yet more Pagan than Christian.

Nevertheless, we love to hear the Pennsylvania fathers and mothers mention the Christmonat," the "Herbstmonat," or "Hornung." True, we were sometimes puzzled, shortly after returning from College, to know quickly which month was meant, but that was not the good old people's fault; it was not because they did not know what they were saying, but rather because we knew too little! Strange, that a young man, fresh and "ausgelernt" from College, should not know all about the Almanac!

But the German and modern titular order is after all preferable over the Roman and Pagan, which is unintelligible indeed. After we had entered the "People's College," the "Free University," we mean the School of Common Life, only then can we see that the expressive and faithful German is better than Pagan jargon.

Thou good old Calendar, hanging day by day against the wall, thou dost mildly rebuke us for our base ingratitude. Thou art so kind and so obliging a friend, ever ready to call out the Year and Season, the Day and Month, whenever we would know like a watchman on his beat. And after all this we blame thee! Never mind. It is not thy fault, that thou art not converted and Christianized. As little canst thou help that Paganism covers thee over and that Gentile speech issues out of thy mouth, and Gibberish names drop from thy tongue, as can those infants at the fount be reproached for having the names of "Beelzebub," "Judas," "Pontius Pilate," "Burr," or "Arnold"" or any other name, condemned to a never-ending death, plastered on it.

But we will appeal to the great Tribunal of civilization; to the Legislature of Christendom, that the "Almanac Man," at Mercersburg, or wherever he may live (in the moon for all we know!), may see to it. Perhaps he can "manipulate" thee to such a grade, that even little children may understand thee better, without a dictionary (English, Latin or Greek)that is, "without note or comment."

Just think of it, reader. The world is strewn with Almanacs, published by the various Christian denominations, to wit: "The Catholic Almanac;" "The Lutheran Almanac ;" "The Methodist Almanac;" "The Presbyterian Almanac;" "The Baptist Almanac;" "The Episcopalian Almanac;" "The German Reformed Almanac"-yea time would fail us to note them all. Yet not one has the courage to eliminate Paganism out of the Almanac.

The sleek Quaker is somewhat less Gentile, though scarcely more Christian. Listen to the story concerning a Founder in Florence :

"A Founder in Florence had long exercised his art with wonderful success. The secret of glory consisted in the skill with which he prepared the moulds into which he poured, in turn, gold, silver and bronze. One day the municipality of Florence ordered a statue of one of the great men of the republic, and the Archbishop a bas-relief for one of the chapels of the celebrated Duomo. The glory of his country and the love for religion imparted to the artist a new ardor, and under this double

VOL. XVIII.-22

inspiration his genius conceived a chef d'œuvre. Unfortunately he had at the moment, but the mould of a horse in his studio. No matter,' thought he to himself, I will combine the metals so well as to remedy this inconvenience,' The silver and gold wisely mingled, flowed together into the mould. They looked for a hero of antique form; the artist broke the mould, and * * * * a horse was drawn forth! How great is my chagrin said he, but I see my error. I did not prepare my metals in required proportions;' and he immediately set to work to arrange a new combination, and form a mould similar to the first; and a few days after there was a new cast. This time the artist worked for the Archbishop, who awaited his bas relief. The mould was opened, and again

* *

* *

a horse like the first!

6

"It is unpardonable!' cried the artist, striking the cast. How could I forget that gold and silver are not the true metals for the founder? The right metal to cast in is bronze; with this I shall have no further errors, for we are old friends.' He prepared with unusual care the mould and the metal, studied patiently all the conditions of the problem, and when they were solved, he lighted his furnace; very soon the metal of a beautiful color flowed into the mould, and produced * * * a superb horse in bronze-but still only a horse!

"The unfortunate artist then fell into despair. He attributed his failure to everything but himself, and died without discovering that in order to change the form, you must change the mould." All ye Almanac-men, ye are the Founder of Florence. Since the Christian era ye have been casting your Calendars in a Pagan mould, and why should ye be surprised that they do not turn out Christian. Study well the story of the Founder of Florence.

TALK AND TALKERS,

BY ULRIC.

We remember having onee read an explanation, which we thought philosophical, of that saying, not unfrequent in the sacred Scriptures: "And he opened his mouth." This expression, it was stated, which seems to us a singular pleonasm, becomes significant and natural, when we consider the habits of Oriental society, which gave it origin, and in the light of which it must be viewed. The people of the East were, in ancient times, whether constitutionally or from principle, sparing of words-a peculiarity which has been perpetuated in their descendants, even to the present day. Etiquette seems to have required a certain degree of taciturnity. The uninterrupted flow of conversation seems to have been thought, not only not necessary, but even detrimental, to the entertainment of an assembled company. When one friend called upon another, or when several were met together, the greater part of the time was often spent in unbroken silence. What was said, was spoken slowly,

and after long deliberation. In society of this kind, to "open the mouth" was something of an event. It was an act sufficiently unusual, if not to require special mention, at least to render such special mention not unaccountable or unnatural. This is doubtless the underlying reason why what seems to us, at first thought, an odd and superfluous saying, came to have place in the Scriptures, in the narratives of conversations and discourses.

Without meaning to be irreverent, we suggest that, if the habits of modern society should originate and place in use, in the reports of discourses and conversations, an expression corresponding to this, it would be the very reverse: "And he closed his mouth." The customs of society with us are, in this respect, the customs of Eastern society inverted. Therefore, the characteristic expression would fall at the close, instead of at the beginning, of reported utterances, and would be in itself the very contrary of its Oriental counterpart. To close the mouth-that is, in these days, "something of an event." That, and not the opening, is the act which, ordinarily, is so unusual as to call for special notice. The present generation is taciturn, neither by constitution, nor from principle, but may be characterized as talkative in a high degree. Almost everyone talks, talks much, and talks fast. What else, indeed, could be expected in an age like this? When steam is quickening travel and labor to an unheard-of degree, and when electricity, utterly regardless of distance, is flashing news with thought-like speed over the country and across the sea, is it reasonable to think, that all this should or could be without an accelerating effect upon the speech of men? Away with Oriental slowness of speech, as well as of travel and communication! Such stupidity as to sit in company for hours, with silence uninterrupted save by monosyllables sparsely uttered, is not to be endured at this day of intelligence and rapid progress. Man was endowed with the power of speech, that he might use it, and use it freely. To be habitually silent, is to be behind the age, as well as to be guilty of stupidity and impoliteness. This seems to be the sentiment of this loquacious age. When the present age is said to be talkative, it is not meant that this epithet is applicable to every individual. There are, here and there, indeed, even in this country and at the present day, persons who cannot or will not talk, persons of an almost Oriental taciturnity. But these are rare exceptions. They are, "like angel visits, few and far between." Poor people, how unhappy they must be! They are out of sympathy with the spirit of the age, they are surrounded by a foreign element, and seem like strangers in a strange land. Such a person is an exotic plant. Like the palm-tree of that Oriental land, whose manners he seems to revive, the palm-tree which will not bloom in other earth" than that of its native East, and which, when transplanted to foreign lands, leads a lonely, precarious and unsatisfied life, he stands, "in solitary grace" (or disgrace), an alien in the land, unable to flourish as the rest, and sighing for a more congenial clime. Of such there are some, as there are exceptions to every rule. Nevertheless, we do not err, when we characterize our modern, and particularly our American society, as loquacious in an eminent sense.

Now, this almost universal propensity to talk, is not without its amiable and profitable elements. In its freedom and fullness, it partakes of the free, full and joyous spirit of our own free country. Far more interesting

and attractive is a cheerful loquacity, silly though it sometimes be, than the opposite extreme of taciturnity, reserved and austere. Besides, in the spontaneous, unrestrained expression of thought and feeling, there cannot fail to be, amid much vanity and gossip, also the stirring up of earnest thought, and the agitating of serious problems, which otherwise, perhaps, would never have been raised and never settled. Yet, innocent and even amiable as this garrulous propensity may ordinarily be, it is constantly liable to degenerate, and is attended by many an inconvenience and an

noyance.

While, as we have said, both the ability and the will to talk, and to talk much, are almost universal, there are some who arrive at special distinction in this art, and win for themselves the reputation of being "great talkers." This is a distinction which is coveted by many. To be known as "a great talker," is the object of many a one's social ambition. To be sure, those who aspire to this title are often heard to speak of themselves, in this capacity, in a tone of self-censure and deprecation; but it is easily perceived that, in most cases, this is done-alas for the frailty of poor human nature!-perhaps unconsciously, for the purpose of inviting commendation for what is regarded as in reality a merit, or, at worst, au amiable peccadillo, of which it requires a man of some smartness to be guilty. When it is remembered, however, what is included in the reputation of "a great talker," according to the common acceptation of the term, it is not easy to see what there is in it that is worthy of aspiration. In general, the term designates merely the ability to talk, to talk much, to talk fluently and superficially on almost any subject; not necessarily with any reference to the demands of time and place, or to the benefit of those talked to, but solely with the desire, and for the purpose, of talking. We confess that we have little patience with persons of this class, and, perhaps, are not impartial in judging them. When we remember how much we have suffered from them; how we have been buttonholed on the streets, and held captive in houses, for hours in succession; how an uninterrupted stream of talk, "weary, stale, flat and unprofitable," has been made to pour into our patient but tired ears; how we have ruefully seen our precious allowance of time grow "beautifully less" and vanish altogether away; how we have looked in vain for some pause, some little breathing spell, just long enough to permit us to make a breach and escape, without committing a breach of politeness at the same time; how we have at last been compelled to extricate ourselves more or less abruptly; and how we have retreated from the talk, followed by talk, as far as talk could reach us; when we remember all this, we grow sick at heart, and are ready to exclaim, Save us from "great talkers!"

It is another of the evils of this irresistible impulse to talk, that it has a tendency to disorder conversation, and to render that, for many, a taskwork and a drudgery, which ought to be for all a delightful recreation. Have you ever, gentle reader, observed, as you may often observe, how conversation is carried on in a company, of whom all are desirous to talk, and whose sense of the requirements of courtesy is not so strong as to prevail over and moderate all impulses to loquacity? What is said by any one, is uttered piecemeal, being broken up by various interruptions from those who have little patience to listen to others. A narrative, though short, instead of being rendered as it ought to be, without constraint and