altered. The numeral characters which they borrowed from the Greeks have been subjected to this alteration; and so effectually, that without particular observation, we can scarcely perceive any traces of their origin. But when we make the comparison carefully, and without prejudice, the traces of the Greek characters are sufficiently obvious. The Greek numerals were merely the letters of their alphabet. A small comma or line was the mark of unity. The ß, with its extremities cut off, has produced the 2. If we bend the y a little to the left, cutting off the foot, and rounding the left horn a little towards the left, we form a 3. The A has produced the 4, by raising the left side of the triangle perpendicularly, prolonging it a little below the base, and lengthening the base on the left side. The has formed the 5, by turning the lower semicircle from left to right. The 6 has been formed from the 5, by rounding the bottom, and retrenching the top part. The 7 has been formed from the Z, by cutting off the base. If we connect the four corners of the H, we form an 8. The forms the 9, by slightly opening one of the sides. The cipher was merely a point added to the other units, in order to multiply their value 10 times. It was necessary to mark this point strongly; and in order to form it distinctly, it was first represented by a circle filled up in the middle: afterwards the filling up of the circle was neglected. Theophanes, the historian of Constantinople, says, in plain terms, that the Arabs retained the Greek letters, having no characters in their language to mark numbers. The Greeks, in their numbers, retained the decimal progression as the Arabs have done.

LXXXVII. DECIMALS.

It is at first sight surprising, that in the progression of numbers, and in calculation, the number of ten, and the decimal progression, should have been preferred to all others. The cause of this preference is, that it corresponds with the number of our fingers, in which all men are accustomed to reckon from their infancy. They count, in the first place, the number of their fingers. When the nnits exceed the number of their fingers, they pass to a second ten. If the number of tens increases, they count these also on their fingers; and when the number of tens exceeds the number of their fingers, they recommence on their fingers a new sort of calculation; that is to say, of tens of tens, or hundreds; and afterwards, of thousands, and so on. Thus, it is the number of the fingers with which nature has furnished man, as an instrument always ready to assist him in his calculations, which has led to the adoption of this number—a number, in other respects less useful, and less fitted for the purpose, than the number of twelve, which is more susceptible of division; for 10 is divisible only by 2 and by 5, while 12 is divisible by 2, by 3, by 4, and by 6.

The Roman ciphers afford a proof of the origin which I have just stated. They express units by the I's, which represent the fingers. Five is repre sented by a V, which represents the first and last fingers of the hand. Ten is represented by an X, being two V's united at their bases, and expressing the contents of both hands. Fifty is marked by an L, the half of the letter E, which is the same as C, and represents a hundred. Five hundred by

a D, the half of the letter O, which is the same as M, and represents a thousand.

LXXXVIII. THE GARLAND OF JULIA.

Never did love devise a piece of gallantry more ingenious, more refined, or more original than the Duke of Montausier's new-year's-gift to his mistress Julia d' Augennes, when he sought her in inarriage. He had a selection of the finest flowers painted separately in miniature, on vellum, of the same size, by an excellent painter. Beneath each picture he made the artist leave sufficient space to write a madrigal on the subject of the flower, and in praise of Julia. He prevailed on all the wits of the time, most of whom were his personal friends, to undertake the composition of these little pieces, after reserving a reasonable share of the best subjects to himself. He then had the madrigals written beneath each flower by a person at that time much celebrated for the beauty of his handwriting. The whole was then finely bound. Two copies exactly alike were formed, and each inclosed in a covering of Spanish leather. This was the present which Julia found on her toilet on New-year's-day 1633, or 1634, (for it was shortly after the death of Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden.) I notice this epoch because it is alluded to in the imperial crown,* * one of the flowers composing this garland. As I had merely heard of its existence by report, I often asked permission to see it; Madame d'Úsez at last procured me this pleasure. She locked me up one afternoon along with the garland; she afterwards went to attend the Queen,

• An elegant madrigal composed by Chapelain, author of "The Pucelle.'

and did not return to release me till it was almost night. But I never recollect having passed a more agreeable evening.

LXXXIX. MURDER IN STOCKHOLM.

A few days before our journey to Sweden, a strange incident occurred in Stockholm. A young man, by no means deficient in fortune, and whose conduct had always appeared extremely correct, laid hold of a child in broad day-light, as it was playing before its father's shop, and cut its throat. He was instantly seized and carried before the judges. Being interrogated as to his motives for the commission of such a crime, "Gentlemen," said he, "I confess my guilt, and admit that I am deserving of death: far from seeking to justify my conduct, or to obtain pardon for my crime, you would yourselves be guilty were you to pardon me. I have looked on life with attention-I have studied death. The one appeared to me a source of misery and crime, the other a state of innocence and peace. After much reflection, seeing that I could attain my object only by the commission of a crime, I determined on that which I have perpe trated, as the most excusable. I have killed a child during his period of innocence, and thereby insured his salvation. I have relieved his father, who is burdened with a numerous family, and has not the means to provide for them. Nevertheless, I acknowledge that I am guilty; I only hope that the punishment to be inflicted upon me, and the manner in which I shall receive it, will procure from God the pardon of my crime." He went to the scaffold singing, and suffered with a firmness and serenity that astonished every one who was

present.

XC. CONTAGION.

Neither naturalists nor physicians have yet been able to inform us why certain diseases are contagious, while others are not so. The gout, the stone, the epilepsy and apoplexy, are not communicated from one person to another; the plague, on the contrary, dysentery, flux, small-pox, &c. are easily communicated, become epidemical, and cause the greatest ravages by their infection. Whence does this difference in these effects proceed? I think I can imagine a cause, which, though not apparent, is very far from being on that account improbable. I would say, in general, that all those diseases which are contagious, produce certain small insects contained in abscesses, ulcers, or pustules, on the surface of the body, some more, some less, and of different kinds. I do not at present inquire into the cause that produces these insects, but the effect is common, constant, and frequently visible. We know that these insects, by a natural revolution, change into flies or gnats. As soon as they can manage their wings, they hasten to use them, and to fly about in the air. Then spreading themselves on all sides, and entering into the human body by respiration, they carry thither the same venom by which they have been engendered, and communicate the corruption which has given them birth. This is the reason why, during great contagions, large fires have been successfully employed in different places to purify the air. This is done, not by rarefying and changing its constitution, as seems to be imagined, but by burning and destroying these creatures with which the atmosphere is filled, and which, attracted by the glare of the fire, are drawn to death like moths