"To swallow gudgeons ere they're catched,
And count their chickens ere they're hatched."

Were this advice always followed, much trouble would be saved to humanity.

Die in the last ditch.-This expression was very rife during the last American war, as specially applied to the Southerners, and was doubtless thought by most to have arisen with the occasion; but William of Orange was the man who first resolved to die in this undesirable place. According to Hume, with reference to the unsatisfactory state of his country, he replied to an enquiry: "There is one certain means by which I am sure never to see my country's ruin, 'I will die in the last ditch.""

Thegrey mare the better horse.-This phrase, the import of which is so well understood in domestic circles, Macaulay thinks originated in the preference generally given to the grey mares of Flanders, over the finest coach horses of England.

Escaped by the skin of his teeth.-The patriarch Job it was who escaped thus narrowly (see Job, chap. xix, verse 20), and in giving utterance to the phrase, he little thought that it would come into common use in the nineteenth century.

As good as a play. This simile is in very common use when wishing to express appreciation, and was an exclamation of Charles I., who used to say, that the debates in parliament were sometimes as good as a comedy or play.

I know a trick worth two of that. Thus cries a school-boy who fancies he can checkmate his opponent, little thinking that he is quoting Shakspere, who, in Henry the Fourth, makes Gadshill say to a carrier, "I pr'ythee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding in the stable." To which the carrier replies: "Nay, soft, I pray ye, I know a trick worth two of that, i'faith"-evidently not having much faith in Gadshill.

The almighty dollar. This was an expression used by Washington Irving, in his "Creole Village." He styles the coin "the Almighty Dollar, that great object of univer sal devotion throughout our land."

Can't hold a candle to him.-This phrase is from the writings of John Byron, who says, in his rhymes upon the feud between Handel and Bononcine,

"Others aver that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle."

Facts are stubborn things.-This often quoted and most undeniable truth was uttered by Le Sage in his incomparable "Gil Blas," and its truth has ensured its long usage.

Corporations have no souls.-This assertion, as a rule, is as true at the present time as when the great Sir Edward Coke pronounced it to be, in the year 1620. He said, in a case upon which he was engaged: "They [corporations] cannot commit treason, nor be outlawed, nor excommunicated, for they have no souls," which fact has become so thoroughly acknowledged as to pass into an axiom.

Every dog will have his day.--Shakspere originated this truism; he makes Hamlet, at the grave of Ophelia, say,

"Let Hercules himself do what he may,

The cat will mew, and dog will have his day."

Thereby hangs a tale.-" As You Like it," contains this expression. Jaques narrates to the Duke how he met in the forest a fool, a portion of whose speech to him runs thus:

"And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, and then from hour to hour we rot and rot, and thereby hangs a tale," an ending which affords much food for thought, like many of the wise sayings of the professional fools of that day.

His soul is not his own.-We often hear a person who is in supposed thraldom, domestic or official, described as one whose soul is not his own. Shakspere thought that under no circumstances should such a state of things exist, for he puts it into mind of Henry the Fifth to say to William, one of his soldiers, "Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subject's soul is his own." There have been some rulers who would hardly cede this latter point.

At their wit's end.-This common expression of embarrassment occurs in Psalms, xvii. chapter and 27th verse.

All is not gold that glisters (or glistens).— This trite opinion of the vanity of external attraction has been used in various forms by several authors. Shakspere has it in the "Merchant of Venice." He makes the scroll in the golden casket say, "All that glisters is not gold." Middleton, Spenser (in the "Faerie Queene "), Herbert, and Lydgate have each used it in varied words.

The Devil take the hindmost.-This pithy exclamation, usually uttered on the eve of sauve qui peut," occurs in Hudibras, who has given us so many of such expressions

some

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in common use:

"How will dissenting brethren relish it, What will malignants say, videlicet, That each man swore to do his best To damn and perjure all the rest,

And bid the devil take the hindmost."

Many a time and oft.-This poetical phrase forms part of a most sarcastic speech of Shylock to Antonio, commencing-"Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, on the Rialto, you have rated me about my monies and my usances."

Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise. - This much quoted sentence occurs in Gray's lines" On a Distant Prospect of Eton College."

Enough is as good as a feast.-To Bickerstaff, in his play of "Love in a Village," are we indebted for this homely truth.

When Greeks joined Greeks, then was the tug of war.-This sentence is frequently misquoted, being made to read "When

Greek meets Greek," etc. This is an error. The original words occur in the play of "Alexander the Great" by Nathaniel Lee, about 1670, and read as quoted here, the idea being evidently how great would be the strength when Greek forces united; although the "tug" would be equally great in | either case.

It out-herods Herod.-This application of comparison was used by Hamlet in his instructions to the players, when, in advising them to restrain all extravagance of manner in their acting, and to show his objection thereto, he says, "I would have such a fellow whipped for out-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.”

To teach the young idea how to shoot.-This well known expression will be found in Thomson's "Seasons.' In the lines to Spring he says:

"Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot.'

Experience hardly sustains this poetic language, and to few is it a delightful task "to rear the tender thought."

Turn over a new leaf.-This most significant phrase occurs in the play of" Anything for a Quiet Life," by Middleton.

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view. -Like angel-visits, short and far between.— Campbell's exquisite poem, "The Pleasures of Hope," contains these two quotations: they read thus:

Out of sight, out of mind.-For this expression of an unfortunate truism we have to thank a writer of the 14th century, Thomas à Kempis, who says, in his "Imitation of Christ," "When he is out of sight, quickly also is he out of mind."

Eaten out of house and home.--This fre quent lamentation of the poor father of an over large and hungry family was used by the hostess in Henry the Fourth, who complained to the Chief Justice against Falstaff. She says, "He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his."

Add insult to injury.-For the origin of this very common saying we must go back to the Latin author, Phædrus. His fable of the "Bald Man and the Fly," is as follows: "A fly bit the bare pate of a bald man; who, endeavouring to crush it, gave himself a heavy blow. Then said the fly, jeeringly; You wanted to revenge the sting of a tiny insect with death; what will you do to yourself, who have added insult to injury?'"

To beard the lion in his den.-This expression, which furnishes so powerful a conception of an undertaking of extreme peril and rashness, occurs in Marmion," where Lord Douglas, in reply to an insult by Marmion,

exclaims :

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"And dar'st thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall?"

Adding fuel to the flame.--Milton uses this trite sentence. In his "Samson Agonistes"

we read:

"He's gone, and who knows how he may report Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?"

Leave no stone unturned.-Bartlett, in his "Familiar Quotations," says: "This be may traced to a response of the Delphic Oracle given to Polycrates, as the best means of finding a treasure buried by Xerxes' general, The Mardonius, on the field of Platea. oracle replied, 'Turn every stone.' No love lost between us.-This expressive phrase occurs in Goldsmith's beautiful play, "She Stoops to Conquer."

Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.-To Congreve are we indebted for this fine description of the power of music, which is so often quoted. It has the ring of Shakspere in it, and will be found in his play of "The Morning Bride," and reads

thus:

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."

and in such common use as to be called These quotations are all so well known "household words," a term used by Henry the Fifth, just before the battle of Agincourt, in his last speech of encouragement to his soldiers. Anticipating the glorious issue of the day, he says: "Then shall our names, familiar in their mouths as household words, .. be in their flowing cups freshly remembered." E. R. B.

I

T is an exquisite April day, trees budding, grass wearing its first fresh emerald green, young flowers opening their delicate petals, birds twittering busily over the important business of nest-making; all the opening promise and beauty and fragrance of spring filling the clear, sunny air. As I look from the open window, even the passersby seem to feel the sweet influences of the blossoming life around them; all but one,

It

who, from no fault of hers, poor girl, looks like an unnatural blot on the fair scene. is a young widow, who seems almost literally buried under the thick folds of crape which drape her figure from head to foot, so that through the long black veil, even an intimate acquaintance would hardly recognise her. And all through our hot, burning summer weather she must wear this same barbarous costume, while every one around her is gladly

donning the lightest and coolest attire, and all the beauty of the summer landscape is almost blotted from her eyes by these gloomy folds of crape. We call the Hindoos barbarous because they take away the jewellery of their widows, give them one coarse garment to wear, and limit them to one meal a day. Are we, after all, so much better? Some people would rather bear the privation of food than be condemned, as our widows are condemned, to the frightful and most uncomfortable costume called "widow's weeds," and this often for years. For with many it is thought a slight to the memory of the lost husband to lighten this heavy mourning before at least two or three years have passed. And he who perhaps hated this unreasonable practice with all his heart, and was always anxious during his lifetime to save his wife the slightest discomfort, is supposed to be honoured by the performance of this dismal penance in his memory. Is it feared that the bereaved one may grow too soon consoled unless she is weighed down by this literal load of mourning? But human life is mercifully not intended to be utterly absorbed by even the heaviest grief, and it seems a presumptuous interference with the healing processes of nature to try to prevent the blessed soothing influences of summer sights and sounds and sunshine from having their intended effect. All our "mourning,' indeed, is on far too conventional and tyrannical a scale. The black dress, devoid of ornament, is a natural expression of deep sorrow, and as such an expression is becoming enough. But when fashion, with her arbitrary rule, interferes and dictates the quantity of crape which each degree of relationship demands (utterly irrespective of degrees of feeling), the practice ceases to be becoming and loses its meaning. Where people do feel a death deeply they do not need the reminder of crape trappings. Where they do not feel it the crape trappings are simply a mockery. And every one knows how heavily the expense of arraying an entire family in deep mourning draws upon resources which, by sickness and death, have been reduced to the slenderest, and have the most urgent need of being saved for the necessaries of life, of which people often stint themselves for the sake of the indispensable crape. And as this is ruined by rain, the wearers must stay at home from church if it threatens a shower, at the risk

of having the additional expense of renewing what has been spoiled. Is there any use in appealing to the common-sense of the higher and wealthier classes to change all this by setting the example of simple, less expensive, and less uncomfortable mourning attire? It would be no mere saving of discomfort. It would lighten the load of care that intensifies the grief of many a poor woman, "left" with a helpless family to provide for. It would lighten the tax which it is often felt to be to put a family in mourning for some one related to them, but for whose death they cannot in the nature of things feel much grief. Why should not all demands of respect be satisfied by the wearing of plain black for a few weeks without all the paraphernalia of “new mourning," except in cases of the closest relationship; while even in these, the use of crape should be discouraged as far as possible? Any one who should help to reform social custom in this particular would be a practical philanthropist to no little purpose, and every one could do something towards it by leaving written directions as to his or her wishes in this respect in the case of one's own death. If this were done more generally we should have fewer extravagant funerals and less extravagant mourning.

It will be remembered that, some months ago, one of our friends at the Table presented us with a poetic appeal on behalf of keeping pure our "well of English undefiled," by not contaminating it with the muddy rills of slang which at present do so much abound. Another friend, in reply, put in a plea for the toleration of slang, on the ground that words at first introduced as slang sometimes become useful additions to the language. There is something to be said for this view of the matter, but it seems to me that the right view must be in recognising that the word slang is often used in two very different significations; referring promiscuously to words which are in reality additions to the language, and to modes of expression which are degradations of it. To the first class belong a number of words first current in our colonial usus loquendi, where they were first needed, which may eventually find a local habitation in the most approved and orthodox standards. There are the Australian "runs," for instance (I suppose that word, in its special signification, originated in Australia), and our own 'shanty," both very

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