OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.
One of the Bab Ballads has for its subject the story of a young man possessed by a curiosity, which finally amounted to frenzy, to discover who wrote the mottoes on the bonbon papers, and relates the results of his frantic quest.
Á propos of this, who compiles the calendars now so much in vogue? Let us make an example of two, the Shakespeare and the George Eliot Calendars for 1887, both elaborately and handsomely gotten up, and apparently very popular.
The object, as we conceive it, of these calendars is to bring before our minds each day some axiom or epigram which may give us food for thought, or even serve the higher purpose of uplifting us morally, as, for instance, this:
He that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fast in us unused.
Or this:
Sometimes we are devils to ourselves
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers.
And yet, in spite of the abounding richness of Shakespeare, for every two quotations like these there are twenty in this calendar which, taken apart from their context, are as meaningless as these:
The sands are numbered that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
To business that we love we rise betimes,
And go to it with delight.
Go thou forth,
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm.
These extracts are taken from the first twenty pages of the Shakespeare Calendar, and it is probable that the remaining months would furnish examples stronger still.
Now to turn to the other calendar. The first twenty quotations there are much better, but among them are several which have absolutely no fitness for this purpose. The extract for January 1 is a broken fragment of one of George Eliot's most beautiful thoughts. The calendar has it, "No story is the same to us after a lapse of time, or rather we, who read it, are no longer the same interpreters;" but this is merely introductory, and the gist of the matter is in the unquoted part. A little later we find an extract so striking that it must be quoted in full: "Perhaps the most delightful friendships are those in which there is much agreement, much disputation, and more personal liking;" soon after which follows this: "A real fine lady does not wear clothes that flare in people's eyes, or use importunate scents, or make a noise when she moves," and just next, this fine utterance: "No man can begin to mould himself on a faith or an idea
