with subsequent blindfolding and necessary genuflexion, a smart rap with a wet towel on the back of his neck should have been followed by the picking up of a corpse.—Lancet.
(1519)
A Sioux Indian, who had lost a relative by death, vowed to kill the first living thing he met. This was once not an uncommon practise among our Indians. Issuing from his lodge, he chanced to meet a missionary—a man much beloved by all, from whom this Indian had received many favors. Unwilling, but bound by his vow, he shot his benefactor as he passed. Indian usage did not sanction a bloody retribution on the murderer, since the obligation of his vow was recognized by all. The shaman, however, upbraided him for his act, and pronounced his doom, saying: "You will die within the year." The Indian, tho apparently a well man at the time, was seized by a wasting disease, and actually did die within the specified time, a
victim to his own superstitious imagination.—H. W. Henshaw, The Youth's Companion.
(1520)
IMAGINATION, LURE OF A certain legend relates that one of the Piscayan mountains is accurst, and that Satan dwells there. The grass is withered, a sinister hue rests upon everything, the sounds are mournful, the mountain stands a dark fantom in the midst of bedecked nature. But this is not the method of evil. The mountain up which the devil took our Master, and up which he takes us, is bathed in purple; in its rocks gleam jewels, its dust is the dust of gold, in its clefts spring flowers, and from its crest is seen the vision of kingdoms and the glory of them. Things, principles, maxims, amusements, relationships, creeds, ideals, utterly base and vile, are through the power of imagination purged into the lily's whiteness, perfumed with the violet, steeped in the color of the rose. We are never invited to sin; the things which have ruined generations are prest upon us as nature, freedom, spirit, knowledge, gallantry, beauty, love, and we are deceived through the legerdemain of passion and fancy. (Text.)—W. L. Watkinson, "The Transfigured Sackcloth."
(1521)
IMITATION Some men try to imitate good character as precious stones are imitated, according to this description: The trade in artificial precious stones has become quite important, and the manufacture of them has reached a considerable degree of perfection. The products of some of the shops would almost deceive an expert, but the test of hardness is still infallible. The beautiful "French paste," from which imitation diamonds are made, is a kind of glass with a mixture of oxide of lead. The more of the latter the brighter the stone, but also the softer, and this is a serious defect. The imitation stones are now so perfectly made and are so satisfactory to those who are not very particular, that their influence begins to be felt in the market for real stones. By careful selection of the ingredients and skill and attention in manipulation, the luster, color, fire and water of the choicest stones are, to the eyes of laymen, fully reproduced.—Popular Science Monthly.
(1522)
Imitation, as we see it in man, seems to extend over a wider range of action and production than in any other animal. It is not confined, as in the monkeys, to the production of like attitudes or bodily acts; it is not confined, as in the birds, to the imitation of sounds; it includes all alike, and is characterized, furthermore, by conscious pleasure in the doing. Every one who has observed children knows the keen delight with which they first perceive the likeness between two things; that to recognize in a picture a thing which they have actually seen is a distinct enjoyment; that in the same way the second telling of a story, or the second playing of a game, seems to give an additional and independent pleasure to the child. And so with ignorant people when they look at pictures, the great, if not the only source of pleasure seems to be the detecting of the likeness to something they know. After the artists of Greece and Rome had reached their highest levels and done their best work, the critic of art found in the exactness of the likeness one of the highest, perhaps the highest element of excellence. The birds that flew to the grapes of Zeuxis, the horse that neighed to the painted horse of Apelles, the painted curtain of Parasius that deceived Zeuxis himself—these seemed to Pliny, and, I suppose, to the ancient world generally, to be the highest tributes to the excellence of the artists.—Lord Justice Fry, Contemporary Review.
(1523)
