Part 7

The habit of preoccupation which sometimes shows itself by hesitation in speech is less dangerous than weakness, but it should not be neglected. Having “too much to think about” is not so bad as having exhausted the power of voluntary thought, but it is an evil. “Too much” does not always mean more than the mind _ought_ to be able to receive and deal with. It is quite as often too much for the defective discipline of thought maintained, as really more than a due quantity for the mind engaged if the business of thinking were properly conducted. There is a marked tendency in modern education—and it increases each year—to neglect the training of minds. The subjects which were principally useful for purposes of mental development and exercise are being eliminated because they do not commend themselves to the commercial instinct of the day as producing marketable information. Greek, Latin, mathematics, and the like, are not possessed of a high value in the mart of commerce or on ’Change, and they are therefore lightly estimated.

We are beginning to reap the fruit of this time-serving policy in education, and it takes the form of a general break-down of young minds when set to any duty which involves dealing with a crowd of thoughts at once. The untrained and disorderly thinker can not choose his words, he has “no time” to arrange them, and can seldom find them when wanted. He is “thinking of something else.” It has come to be thought rather clever to be “abstracted,” and “so engrossed,” “with many things to think about!” These are the pitiful excuses offered by a generation of incompetent and confused thinkers when their speech betrays them. A clever talker will often bridge over the gap between two right words in place of interposing a wrong one. It is amusing and, in a certain sense, interesting to notice how admirably this is done by self-possessed though confused speakers; but the evil of disorderly thought lurks behind, and may be detected through the flimsy, though ingenious, artifice.

The remedy for a growing hesitancy in speech, when not the result of serious mind-weakness—and the person affected is generally secretly conscious of the cause—is a better method of thinking. The first effort must be to preserve greater calmness; the second, to be more orderly in thought. There is a process in thinking which is the counterpart of dotting the _i_’s and putting in the stops in writing, or of knotting the thread and “fastening off” securely in needlework. If this be neglected, as it commonly is by what are called rapid—another word for careless, reckless, or impetuous—thinkers, entanglement and confusion in thought, showing themselves in hesitation and errors of speech, are inevitable.

Verbal blunders are generally due to confusions of thought, but sometimes to disease. It is important to distinguish between the two varieties of this fault. The former is a matter for self-improvement, the latter will require medical aid. If the mistakes made seem to follow no particular line of error—if they are, so to say, general or capricious, the wrong words substituted for what it was wished to say being taken at random, perhaps from some other sentence at the moment darting across the mind—the “confusion” may be safely set down as one to be cured by mind-discipline. If, on the contrary, particular words, previously familiar and ready at hand, are forgotten, certain numbers dropped out of memory, and a sort of method seems to determine the occurrence of faults in speaking or writing, the matter may be more serious, and advice should be sought. It is a curious feature of the early forms of speech-disorder springing from physical sources—for example, incipient disease of the brain—that particular elements of knowledge seem to be effaced, and special processes of thought or reasoning can no longer be performed, although the great mass of mind-work goes on unimpaired.

A world of trouble would be saved if, in all mental derangements, apart from brain-disease, persons who feel things going amiss with them (and I am convinced this premonition of mind-disorder is a common experience), whether the sensation be one of “irritability” or of “confusion,” would undertake of their own free motive, to cure the evil by subjecting the consciousness to a regular course of training. The best plan is to set the mind a daily task of reading, not too long, but sufficiently difficult to give the thoughts full employment while they are engaged. This should be performed at fixed hours. Perfect regularity is essential, because the object is to restore the rhythm of the mind and brace it up to higher tension. When, as in the class of cases we are considering, hesitation and errors in speech are the characteristic symptoms of a break-down or impaired vigor of mind, much good will often be done by reading aloud for an hour or more daily to the family.

It is not only useless but harmful to read aloud when alone; the mind conjures up an imaginary audience, and this habit of “conjuring up” things is one of the short cuts to insanity which should be carefully avoided, more particularly by those who are most expert in the exercise—the highly imaginative. Another drawback consists in the fact that when a person reads aloud, without a real audience to engross that portion of the thoughts which will wander from the subject, the mind becomes engaged with the sound of the voice through the faculty of hearing; and this paves the way for other mischief. It is by gradually substituting in fancy, and then mistaking, their own voices for those of other beings that the weak and morbidly-minded become impressed with the notion that they are honored or plagued, as the mood may determine, with communications, super-or extra-natural—which are in truth the echoes of their own imaginary utterances.

By reading aloud any healthy and improving work which is so interesting as to engage the thoughts, the strained connections between thought and speech will be relieved. Properly employed, this is one of the most patent and effective of remedies for disorders of the faculty of speech; but it is essential to success in the experiment of self-cure that the book read should be of a nature to interest, and sufficiently difficult to hold the attention. In some cases the exercise is rendered more effectual by reading aloud in one language from a work written in another—for example, a French book to an English audience. This gives practice in the choice of words, and brings the memory into play, the two faculties it is desired to develop and strengthen. Hesitation and errors in speech are of great moment, view them as we may. In their less serious forms they demand a vigorous effort for self-improvement; in their more grave varieties they portend the existence of perils to brain and mind.

ASTRONOMY OF THE HEAVENS FOR MAY.

By PROF. M. B. GOFF.

THE SUN.

Although, as mentioned last month, the sun gives out such a vast amount of heat and light, we must remember that these are sent out in all directions, and that we receive comparatively a very small portion. The best estimates make our part one twenty-three-hundred-millionths of the whole. But this quantity is no trifling matter, and its effects are not to be overlooked. Speaking of the general effect of the sun’s influence, Prof. Lockyer puts it in this way: “The enormous engines which do the heavy work of the world—the locomotives which take us so smoothly and rapidly across a whole continent—the mail packets which bear us so safely over the broad ocean—owe all their power to steam; and steam is produced by heating water by coal. We all know that coal is the product of an ancient vegetation; and vegetation is the direct effect of the sun’s action. Hence without the sun’s action in former times, we should have had no coal. The heavy work of the world is, therefore, indirectly done by the sun. Now for the light work. Let us take man. To work, a man must eat; does he eat beef? On what was the animal which supplied the beef fed? On grass. Does he eat bread? Of what is bread made? Of the flour of wheat and other grains. In these, and in all cases, we come back to vegetation, which is the direct effect of the sun’s action. Here again, then, we must confess that to the sun is due man’s power of work. In fact, all the world’s work, with the trifling exception of tide-work, is done by the sun; and man himself, prince or peasant, is but a little engine, which merely directs the energy supplied by the sun.” The use of the sun as a time-piece is perhaps more frequently thought of than any other, since its value is constantly presenting itself. Each day, as noon approaches, the question occurs, “How is the time?” and when possible, the time of crossing the meridian is compared with that exhibited by the clock. For this month, on the 1st, noon by the sun occurs at 11:57 a. m. clock time; on the 15th, at 11:56 a. m.; on the 31st, at 11:57½ a. m. Another method, though not very accurate, of determining time, is the noting of the rising and setting of the sun. One difficulty here would be the obtaining of a good horizon, such for example, as could be had at sea. The following times answer very well for most parts of the United States and Canada: On the 1st sun rises at 5:02 a. m. and sets at 6:52 p. m.; daybreak occurs at 4:08 a. m., and twilight ends at 8:46 p. m.; on the 15th, sun rises at 4:48 a. m., sets at 7:05 p. m.; daybreak at 2:44 a. m., and end of twilight at 9:09 p. m.; and on the 31st, sun rises at 4:37 a. m., and sets at 7:17 p. m.; daybreak occurs 2:24 a. m., and twilight ends 9:30 p. m. During the month the days increase in length some fifty minutes. On the 31st the sun reaches its highest elevation above the horizon, which in latitude 41° 30′ north is 70° 33′, nearly. As we are now moving away from the sun, its apparent diameter diminishes from 31′ 48″ to 31′ 37″.

THE MOON

Presents the following changes: First quarter at 59 minutes past twelve on the morning of the 2d; full moon on the 9th, at 10:59 p. m.; last quarter on the 17th, at 11:46 in the evening; new moon on the 24th, at 5:28 p. m.; and first quarter again on the 31st, at 11:48 a. m. On the 31st she sets at 12:12 a. m.; on the 15th, rises at 11:25 p. m.; on the 31st, sets at 12:06 a. m. On the meridian, 1st at 5:56¼ p. m.; on the 15th, at 3:58 a. m.; on 30th, at 5:30 p. m. Farthest from the earth, 10th at 7:24 p. m.; nearest the earth on 24th, at 1:36 p. m. Highest point above the horizon on 26th, which in latitude 41° 30′ north, is 67° 17′; and lowest on the 24th, 29° 45′.

MERCURY

Will be visible for a few evenings during the first of the month, setting on the 1st at 8:33, one hour and forty minutes after the sun; on the 15th, sets at 7:20 p. m.; and on the 31st at 5:43 p. m. Its diameter increases from 9.2″ on the 1st to 12″ on the 15th, and then diminishes to 10.6″ on the 30th. On the 5th, about midnight, and again on the 30th about 3:00 p. m., it is stationary. At 5:00 p. m. on the 17th it is at its inferior conjunction, that is, on a line or nearly so, with the earth and sun, and between these latter bodies. On the 24th, at 1:37 a. m., it will be only one minute of arc south of the moon, but as both it and the moon will at that hour be below our horizon, we can not see the conjunction. On the same date it reaches its greatest distance (aphelion) from the sun.

VENUS

During this month (on the 2d about 5 p. m.) reaches its greatest eastern elongation, and will then be 45° 33′ from the sun. One might suppose that at this time the planet would appear to us the brightest; but this is not the case. The surface seen, though a greater portion of the disk than is visible thirty-two days later, is rendered less brilliant on account of its greater distance, and hence we find that the period of greatest brilliancy does not occur in this instance until the 3d of June. From the 1st to the 30th the diameter of Venus increases from 23.6″ to 34.6″, an increase of 11″, or about 50 per cent. It will set as follows: On the 1st, at 10:49; on the 15th, at 10:49; and on the 30th, at 10:40 p. m. On the 27th, at 7:54 p. m., is 8° 7′ north of the moon.

MARS,

The fourth planet in distance from the sun, and, next to Venus, the one that comes nearest to the earth, has also to the latter some points of resemblance. Not that it is like it in size; for in fact, it is not more than about one-eighth as large; nor yet in the length of its year, which is nearly twice as long as one of our years (about 687 of our days). But it has about its equatorial regions, light and dark portions, which are generally admitted to be continents and oceans, whose distribution appears very much like that of the land and water on the earth’s surface. About the poles also appear during the planet’s winter brilliant white portions, which disappear during its summer. This is probably occasioned by the fall of snow in winter, and its melting in the spring and summer. Again, its time of revolution on its axis, which has been quite satisfactorily determined, and, indeed, much more accurately than that of any other planet, is shown to be 24 hours, 37 minutes, 23 seconds very nearly, making its days and nights very much like our own. Its seasons also resemble ours somewhat, though longer and subject to greater extremes of heat and cold. The inclination of the equator of Mars to the plane of its orbit is about 27°, or 3½° more than that of the earth; and its year being nearly twice as long and its orbit more eccentric, make the seasons in its northern hemisphere about as follows: Spring 191⅓ days, summer 181 days, autumn 149⅓, and winter 147 days (of the planet). When nearest to us, its apparent diameter is about seven times as great as when farthest away. These distances are in round numbers 35 and 247 millions of miles respectively. It appears brightest to us of course, when in opposition, that is, when we are between it and the sun, its distance from the earth at these periods varying from 35 to 62 millions of miles, making it seem four times as bright at the former as at the latter distance. On account of the inclination of the equator to the orbit, we can see 27° beyond the north pole at conjunction, and 27° beyond its south pole at opposition; hence astronomers are much better acquainted with its southern than with its northern regions. It is believed that Mars has not only land, water and snow, but also clouds and mists. The land is generally reddish when the planet’s atmosphere is clear; this is owing to the absorption of the atmosphere, as is the color of the setting sun with us. The water appears of a greenish tinge. Of this planet we have to report for this month, that it is decreasing in interest. Its diameter diminishes from 7.8″ to 6.6″. On the 2d it sets at 1:34 a. m.; on the 16th, at 12:55 a. m.; and on the 31st, at 12:13 a. m. On the 2d, at 9:01 a. m., it is 7° 9′ north of the moon; on the 5th, at midnight, 90° east of the sun; on the 30th, at 3:20 p. m., is again in conjunction with and 5° 50′ north of moon; and on the 31st, at 11:00 a. m., is 58′ north of _Alpha Leonis_.

JUPITER,

“The greatest of the planets,” retains his position as an evening star, setting at the following times: On the 2d, at 12:34 a. m.; on the 15th, at 11:45 p. m.; on the 30th, at 10:54 p. m. His motion during the month is direct, and amounts to 4° 39′ 34″. His diameter diminishes 2.4″, being 34.4″ on the 1st, and 32″ on the 31st. He is in conjunction twice with the moon; on the 1st, at 12:21 a. m., when he is 5° 58′, and on the 28th, at 3:42 p. m., when he is 5° 49′ to the north of our satellite.

SATURN

Makes this month a direct motion of four degrees and two seconds of arc, a greater advance than he has made for several months. He rises after daylight and sets on the 1st at 9:06 p. m., on the 15th at 8:19 p. m., and on the 30th at 7:29 p. m.

URANUS

Has a mean distance from the sun of 1770 millions of miles, and makes one revolution in 84.02 years. To find it readily it is necessary to know its right ascension and declination, which for the 1st, 15th and 30th are in order as follows: Right ascension 11h. 40m. 35.92s., declination, 2° 57′ 8.4″ north; right ascension, 11h. 39m. 36s., declination, 3° 3′ 1.5″ north; right ascension, 11h. 39m. 11.54s., declination, 3° 4′ 58.3″ north. Will be evening star throughout the month, setting as follows: On the 2d, at 3:09 a. m.; on the 16th, at 2:13 a. m.; and on the 31st, at 1:14 a. m. Its motion will be retrograde, amounting to 24′ 7.2″. Diameter on 1st, 3.8″, and on the 31st, 3.6″. On the 5th at 10:33 a. m., 3° 29′ north of moon; and on 31st, at 9:00 a. m., stationary.

NEPTUNE,

The “Far-away,” remains close to the sun, as can be seen by comparing their times of rising and setting. The rising of Neptune occurs on the 1st, at 5:37 a. m.; on the 15th, at 4:43 a. m.; and on the 30th, at 3:47 a. m.; and the setting on the same dates in the same order at 7:31, 6:39 and 5:43 p. m.

THE AMUSEMENTS OF THE LONDON POOR.

By WALTER BESANT.

Everybody knows, in general terms, how the English working classes amuse themselves. Let us, however, set down the exact facts, so far as we can get at them, and consider them. First, it must be remembered that the workman of the present day possesses an accomplishment, or a weapon, which was denied to his fathers—_he can read_. That possession ought to open a boundless field; but it has not yet done so, for the simple reason that we have entirely forgotten to give the working man anything to read. This, if any, is a case in which the supply should have preceded and created the demand. Books are dear; beside, if a man wants to buy books, there is no one to guide him or tell him what he should get. Suppose, for instance, a studious workingman anxious to teach himself natural history, how is he to know the best, latest, and most trustworthy books? And so for every branch of learning. Secondly, there are no free libraries to speak of; I find in London one for Camden Town, one for Bethnal Green, one for South London, one for Notting Hill, one for Westminster, and one for the City; and this seems to exhaust the list. It would be interesting to know the daily average of evening visitors at these libraries. There are three millions of the working classes in London; there is, therefore, one free library for every half million, or, leaving out a whole three-fourths in order to allow for the children and the old people and those who are wanted at home, there is one library for every 125,000 people. The accommodation does not seem liberal, but one has as yet heard no complaints of overcrowding. It may be said, however, that the workman reads his paper regularly. That is quite true. The paper which he most loves is red hot on politics; and its readers are assumed to be politicians of the type which considers the millennium only delayed by the existence of the Church, the House of Lords, and a few other institutions. Yet our English workingman is not a firebrand, and though he listens to an immense quantity of fiery oratory, and reads endless fiery articles, he has the good sense to perceive that none of the destructive measures recommended by his friends are likely to improve his own wages or reduce the price of food. It is unfortunate that the favorite and popular papers, which might instruct the people in so many important matters—such as the growth, extent, and nature of the trades by which they live, the meaning of the word Constitution, the history of the British Empire, the rise and development of our liberties, and so forth—teach little or nothing on these or any other points.

If the workman does not read, however, he talks. At present he talks for the most part on the pavement and in public houses, but there is every indication that we shall see before long a rapid growth of workmen’s clubs—not the tea-and-coffee make-believes set up by the well meaning, but honest, independent clubs, in every respect such as those in Pall Mall, managed by the workmen themselves. Meantime, there is the public house for a club, and perhaps the workman spends, night after night, more than he should, upon beer. Let us remember, if he needs excuse, that his employers have found him no better place and no better amusement than to sit in a tavern, drink beer (generally in moderation), and talk and smoke tobacco.

Another magnificent gift he has obtained of late years—the excursion train and the cheap steamboat. For a small sum he can get far away from the close and smoky town, to the seaside perhaps, but certainly to the fields and country air; he can make of every fine Sunday in the summer a holiday indeed. Again, for those who can not afford the country excursion, there is now a park accessible from almost every quarter. And I seriously recommend to all those who are inclined to take a gloomy view concerning their fellow creatures, and the mischievous and dangerous tendencies of the lower classes, to pay a visit to Battersea Park on any Sunday evening in the summer.

As regards the workingman’s theatrical tastes, they lean, so far as they go, to the melodrama; but as a matter of fact there are great masses of working people who never go to the theater at all. Music halls there are, certainly, and these provide shows more or less dramatic, and, though they are not so numerous as might have been expected, they form a considerable part of the amusements of the people; it is therefore a thousand pities that among the “topical” songs, the breakdowns, and the comic songs, room has never been found for part-songs or for music of a quiet and somewhat better kind. The proprietors doubtless know their audience, but wherever the Kyrle Society has given concerts to working people they have succeeded in interesting them by music and songs of a kind to which they are not accustomed in their music halls.

The theater, the music hall, the public house, the Sunday excursion, the parks—these seem almost to exhaust the list of amusement. There are also, however, the suburban gardens, such as North Woolwich and Rosherville, where there are entertainments of all kinds, and dancing; there are the tea-gardens all round London; there are such places of resort as Kew and Hampton Court, Bushey, Burnham Beeches, Epping, Hainault and Rye House. There are also the harmonic meetings, the free-and-easy evenings, and the friendly leads at the public houses.