Review and Herald, Vol. 50, No. 2. (7/5/1877)

Review and Herald

Jul 5, 1877

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 5, 1877

MISGIVINGS IN MICHIGAN.

In the reports of the county superintendents of the poor of the State of Michigan, for 1876, we find the following expression of anxiety with reference to the future. It is from the superintendent of Ingham County:—

“With the repeal of all prohibitory laws; with open and unrestrained sale and use of intoxicants; with paupers and criminals increasing at the rate of 4½ per cent to 1 per cent of population; with a decrease of 33⅓ per cent in the average ability of the property owners to pay taxes, what will be the condition of our county and State ten years hence?” See State Prison report, reports of superintendents of the poor, and sheriffs’ reports for 1875.

A NEW PROJECTILE.

Mr. W. H. LEWIS, a Welsh gentleman, of Hafod, near Swansea, has invented a new engine of warfare, which will be likely to attract considerable attention. It consists of a cannon, so arranged as to discharge a sharp sword-blade crosswise in the direction of the enemy, the knife or cutter being so poised in its career through the air as to cover the whole space in a longitudinal direction described by the blade itself. An eight-inch ball would carry a sword fourteen feet in length six hundred yards, literally mowing down every human obstacle in its path.—Scientific American.

THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY, MAY 19, 1780.

From a work entitled, “Our First Century,” pp. 88–96, we take the following graphic account of the great dark day of May 19, 1780. The testimony is important as showing the extent of the phenomenon, and as describing also a large number of mysterious features not hitherto noticed. As this is one of those signs which our Lord himself set forth to indicate the near approach of his second coming, all testimony concerning it possesses, for the student of prophecy, the greatest value and interest.

“The Dark Day in northern America was one of those wonderful phenomena of nature which will always be read of with interest, but which philosophy is at a loss to explain.”—Herschel.

Almost, if not altogether alone, as the most mysterious and as yet unexplained phenomenon of its kind, in nature’s diversified range of events, during the last century, stands the Dark Day of May Nineteenth, 1780,—a most unaccountable darkening of the whole visible heavens and atmosphere in New England,—which brought intense alarm and distress to multitudes of minds, as well as dismay to the brute creation, the fowls fleeing, bewildered, to their roosts, and the birds to their nests, and the cattle returning to their stalls. Indeed, thousands of the good people of that day became fully convinced that the end of all things terrestrial had come; many gave up, for the time, their secular pursuits, and betook themselves to religious devotions; while many others regarded the darkness as not only a token of God’s indignation against the various iniquities and abominations of the age, but also as an omen of some future destruction that might overwhelm the land—as in the case of the countries mentioned in biblical history,—unless speedy repentance and reformation took place. The ignorant indulged in vague and wild conjectures as to the cause of the phenomenon; and those profounder minds, even, that could “gauge the heavens and tell the stars,” were about equally at loss for any rational explanation of the event. It is related that the Connecticut legislature was in session at this time, and that, so great was the darkness, the members became terrified, and thought that the Day of Judgment had come; a motion was consequently made to adjourn. At this, Mr. Davenport arose and said: “Mr. Speaker,—It is either the Day of Judgment, or it is not. If it is not, there is no need of adjourning. If it is, I desire to be found doing my duty. I move that candles be brought, and that we proceed to business.”

The time of the commencement of this extraordinary darkness was between the hours of ten and eleven in the forenoon of Friday, of the date already named; and it continued until the middle of the following night, but with different appearances at different places. As to the manner of its approach, it seemed to appear first of all in the south-west. The wind came from that quarter, and the darkness appeared to come on with the clouds that came in that direction. The degree to which the darkness arose varied in different localities. In most parts, it became so dense, that people were unable to read common print distinctly, or accurately determine the time of day by their clocks or watches, or dine, or manage their domestic affairs conveniently, without the light of candles. In some places, the degree of darkness was just about equal to preventing persons seeing to read ordinary print in the open air, for several hours together. The extent of this darkness was also very remarkable. It was observed at the most easterly regions of New England; westward, to the furthest parts of Connecticut, and at Albany; to the southward, it was observed all along the sea coasts; and to the north, as far as the American settlements extended. It probably far exceeded these boundaries, but the exact limits were never positively known. With regard to its duration, it continued in the neighborhood of Boston for at least fourteen or fifteen hours; but it was doubtless longer or shorter in some other places. The appearance and effects were such as tended to make the prospect extremely dull, gloomy, and unnatural. Candles were lighted up in the houses; the birds, in the midst of their blithesome forenoon enjoyments, stopped suddenly; and, singing their evening songs, disappeared, and became silent; the fowls retired to their roosts; the cocks were crowing in their accustomed manner at the break of day; objects could not be distinguished at a comparatively slight distance; and everything bore the aspect and gloom of night,—to say nothing of the effects upon the minds of the people, which, indeed, was quite indescribable.

The above general facts concerning this strange phenomenon were ascertained, after

much painstaking inquiry, soon after its occurrence, by Prof. Williams, of Harvard College, who also collected together some of the more particular observations made in different parts of the country, relative to the remarkable event. From these data it appears that, with regard to the state of the atmosphere preceding this uncommon darkness, it was noticed in many sections, for several days before, that the air seemed to be of a smoky and vaporous character. The sun and the moon exhibited an unusual redness in their color, and divested of their usual brightness and lucid aspect; and this obscuration increased as they approached nearer to the horizon. This was ascertained to have been the case in almost all parts of the New England States, for four or five days preceding the nineteenth of May. The winds had been variable, but chiefly from the south-west and north-east. The thermometer indicated from forty to fifty-five degrees. The barometer showed a somewhat higher range than usual. The weather had been fair and cool for the season.

As to the state of the atmosphere when the darkness came on, it was observable that the weight or gravity of it was gradually decreasing, the greater part of the day. According to the observations made at Cambridge, Mass., the mercury in the barometer was found, at twelve o’clock, to stand at twenty-nine inches, seventy; in half an hour after, the mercury had fallen the one-hundredth part of an inch; at one o’clock, it was twenty-nine inches, sixty-seven; at three o’clock it was at twenty-nine inches, sixty-five; at eight minutes past eight, it was at twenty-nine inches, sixty-four. A similar course of barometrical observations made, at the same time, in another part of the State, showed as follows: at six o’clock in the morning, the mercury in the barometer was found to be at twenty-nine inches, eighty-two; as soon as the darkness began to appear uncommon, that is, at ten minutes past ten, the mercury was found at twenty-nine inches, sixty-eight; at a quarter before eleven—the time of the greatest degree of darkness in that part of the country—the mercury was at twenty-nine inches, sixty-seven, the darkness continuing in the same degree for an hour and a half; at fifteen minutes past twelve, the mercury had fallen to twenty-nine inches, sixty-five, and, in a few minutes after this, the darkness began to abate; the mercury remained in this state during the whole evening, without any sensible alteration. At half-past eight, it seemed to have fallen a little, but so small was the alteration, that it was attended with some uncertainty, nor did it appear to stand any lower three hours later.

From these observations, it is certain that on the day when the darkness took place, the weight or gravity of the atmosphere was gradually decreasing through the whole day. Both of the barometers in use were instruments of superior workmanship, and consequently to be depended on as to the accuracy of their indications.

The color of objects that day, is another point of interest. It is mentioned, in the record of observations made with reference to this feature of the phenomenon, that the complexion of the clouds was compounded of a faint red, yellow and brown,—that, during the darkness, objects which commonly appear green, were of the deepest green, verging to blue,—and that those which appear white, were highly tinged with yellow. This was the character of the observations, as given by almost every one who made any record of the day’s appearance. But Prof. Williams states that, to him, almost every object appeared tinged with yellow, rather than with any other color; and this, whether the thing was near, or remote from the eye.

Another element of peculiarity, in this remarkable scene, was the nature and appearance of the vapors that were then in the atmosphere. Early in the morning, the weather was cloudy; the sun was but just visible through the clouds, and appeared of a deep red, as it had for several days before. In most places thunder was heard a number of times in the morning. The clouds soon began to rise from the south-west, with a gentle breeze, and there were several small showers before eight o’clock; in some places there were showers at other hours throughout the day. The water that fell was found to have an unusual character, being thick, dark, and sooty. One observer in the eastern part of Massachusetts states, in this connection, that the strange appearance and smell of the rain-water which people had saved in tubs, was the subject of universal and wondering remark. On examining the water, there was found a light scum upon it, which, on being rubbed between the thumb and finger, seemed to resemble the black ashes of burnt leaves; the water also gave the same strong, sooty smell, which characterized the air. A similar appearance, in this respect, manifested itself in other localities; it was especially exhibited on the Merrimac River, large quantities of black scum being seen floating upon the surface of that stream, during the day. In the night the wind veered round to the north-east, and drove this substance towards the south shore; when the tide fell, the matter lay for many miles along the shore, the width of the deposit being some four or five inches. An examination of a considerable quantity of this substance, in several places, failed to show anything of a sulphurous nature either in its taste, color, or smell. Prof. Williams states that, being apprehensive as to whether there was not some uncommon ingredient in the air that day, he put out several sheets of clean paper in the air and rain. When they had been out four or five hours, he dried them by the fire. They were much sullied, and became dark in their color, and felt as if they had been rubbed with oil or grease; but upon burning them, there could not be detected any sulphurous or nitrous particles.

The motion and situation of the currents or bodies of vapor in the atmosphere likewise exhibited some striking peculiarities. In most places, it was very evident that the vapors were descending from the higher parts of the atmosphere towards the surface of the earth. A gentleman who made some special observations bearing upon this point, mentions a very curious circumstance, as to their ascent and situation, namely, that at about nine o’clock in the morning, after a shower, the vapors rose from the springs in the low lands, in great abundance. Notice was taken of one large column that ascended, with great rapidity, to a considerable height above the highest hills, and soon spread into a large cloud, then moved off a little to the westward. A second cloud was formed in the same manner, from the same springs, but did not ascend so high as the first; and a third was formed from the same places, in less than a quarter of an hour after the second. About three-quarters of an hour after nine o’clock, these clouds exhibited a very striking appearance. The upper cloud wore a peculiar reddish hue; the second showed in some places or parts a green, in others a blue, and in others an indigo color; while the surface of the third cloud was almost white.

Of a somewhat singular nature, also, is the fact, as related by another, that, while the darkness continued, the clouds were in quick motion, interrupted, skirted one over another, so as to form—at least to the eye of the beholder—a considerable number of strata, the lower stratum being of an uniform height as far as visible; but this height was conceived to be very slight, from the small extent of the horizon that could be seen, and from this circumstance observed in the evening. A lighted torch, held by a person passing along the street, occasioned a reflection of a faint red or copper-tinged light—similar to a faint aurora borealis,—the apparent height at which the reflection was made being some twenty to thirty feet. And it was generally remarked, that the hills might be seen at a distance in some directions, while the intermediate spaces were greatly obscured or darkened.

It would thus appear, from the statements now cited, as if the vapors, in some places, were ascending; in most, descending; and, in all, very near to the surface of the earth. To this it may be added, that, during the darkness, objects seemingly cast a shade in every direction, and, in many instances, there were various appearances or corruscations in the atmosphere, not unlike the aurora borealis,—though it is not stated that any uncommon exhibitions of the electric fire were witnessed during the day. In some accounts, however, it is mentioned that a number of small birds were found suffocated by the vapor; some were found dead, and some flew, affrighted or stupefied, into the houses.

In New Haven, Conn., there was a shower of rain, with some lightning and thunder, about daybreak in the morning, the rain continuing, with intervals, until after sunrise. The morning was cloudy and darkish; and the sun, rising towards the zenith, gave no increase of light, as usual, but, on the contrary, the darkness continued to increase until between eleven and twelve o’clock, at which time there was the greatest obscurity in that place. What little motion of the air there was just at this period, was nearly from the south; though the atmosphere was as calm as the blandest summer morning. There was something more of a luminous appearance in the horizon, than in the hemisphere in general; also, a most marked liveliness of tint to the grass and other green vegetation; and a very noticeable yellowness in the atmosphere, which made clean silver nearly resemble the color of brass. At about twelve o’clock, noon, the singular obscuration ceased; the greatest darkness, at any particular time, was at least as dense as what is commonly called “candlelighting,” in the evening. In the town of Hartford, and the neighboring villages, the phenomenon was observed with all its distinctive peculiarities; and by some persons the disc of the sun was seen at the time of the greatest deficiency of light.

In Middlesex County, Mass., the peals of thunder were loud and frequent at six o’clock in the morning, attended with heavy rain; at seven o’clock, the rain and thunder had ceased, but the sky continued cloudy. Between nine and ten o’clock, the clouds were observed to thicken, and to receive continual accessions from the low lands. Before ten, the darkness had sensibly increased, till it became difficult to read an almanac in a room having two windows; at eleven o’clock, candles were lighted, and at half-past eleven the darkness was so great in the meeting-house, where a court was then sitting, that it was difficult to distinguish countenances at the smallest distance, notwithstanding the large number of windows usual in such buildings. At twelve, the darkness was greatest, and a little rain fell; in the street, the aspect was like that at the beginning of evening, as lights were seen burning in all the houses. The clouds were thinnest at the north; at the north-east, the clouds were very thick, and so low that hills could not be seen at the distance of half a mile; south-westerly, hills might be clearly seen at the distance of twenty miles, though the intermediate space was so shaded that it was impossible to distinguish woodland from pasture. At half-past twelve, the clouds, having been hitherto detached, began to concentrate at such an height that all the hills became visible, and the country around exhibited a most beautiful tinted verdure; at one, the clouds became uniformly spread, and the darkness was not greater than is usual on a cloudy day. The same weather continued through the whole afternoon, except that the sun was seen for a few minutes, in some places, about three o’clock. At eight in the evening, the darkness was so impenetrably thick, as to render traveling positively impracticable; and, although the moon rose nearly full about nine o’clock, yet it did not give light enough to enable a person to distinguish between the heavens and the earth.

In the account of this phenomenon given by Dr. Tenney, of New Hampshire, an intelligent observer and writer, are some interesting details, gathered by him while on a journey to Pennsylvania, from the east. He repeats and confirms the statement made by others, that, previously to the commencement of the darkness, the sky was overcast with the common kind of clouds, from which there was, in some places, a moderate fall of rain. Between these and the earth, there intervened another stratum, apparently of great thickness; as this stratum advanced, the darkness commenced, and increased with its progress till it came to its height, which did not take place till the hemisphere was a second time overspread—the uncommon thickness of this stratum being probably occasioned by two strong currents of wind from the southward and westward, condensing the vapors and drawing them to the north-east.

The result of Dr. Tenney’s journey,—during which he made the best use of his opportunities for information,—was, that the darkness appeared to be most gross in Essex County, Massachusetts, the lower part of the State of New Hampshire, and in portions of what was then the Province of Maine. In Rhode Island and Connecticut it was not so great, and still less in New York; in New Jersey, the second stratum of clouds was observed, but it was not of any great thickness, nor was the darkness very uncommon; in the lower parts of Pennsylvania, no extraordinary scene was noticed.

Through the whole extent of country referred to, the lower cloud-stratum had an uncommon brassy hue, while the earth and trees were adorned with so enchanting a verdure as could not escape notice, even amidst the unusual atmospheric gloom that accompanied it. The darkness of the following evening was probably as deep and dense as ever had been observed since the Almighty fiat gave birth to light; it wanted only palpability to render it as extraordinary as that which overspread the land of Egypt in the days of Moses. If every luminous body in the universe had been shrouded in impenetrable shades, or struck out of existence, it was thought the darkness could not have been more complete. A sheet of white paper, held within a few inches of the eyes, was equally invisible with the blackest velvet. And, considering the small quantity of light that was transmitted by the clouds, during the day, it is not surprising that, at night, a sufficient quantity of rays should not be able to penetrate the same strata, brought back by the shifting of the winds, to afford the most obscure prospect even of the best reflecting bodies. The denseness of this evening darkness was a fact universally observed and recorded.

In view of all the information contained in the various accounts of this day, it appears very certain that the atmosphere was charged with an unprecedented quantity of vapor,—from what primary cause has never been satisfactorily determined; and as the weather had been clear, the air heavy, and the wind small and variable for many days, the vapors, instead of dispersing, must have been constantly rising and collecting in the air, until the atmosphere became highly charged with them.

But there were not wanting those—and a large number they were too—who gave play in their minds, to most strange opinions concerning the cause of so marvelous an appearance. It was imagined by some persons that an eclipse of the sun, produced of course by an interposition of the moon, was the cause of the darkness; others attributed it to a transit of Venus or Mercury upon the disc of the sun; others imputed it to a blazing star, which they thought came between the earth and the sun. So whimsical, indeed, were some of the opinions which possessed men’s minds at this time, that even so bare a vagary as that a great mountain obstructed the rays of the sun’s light during that day, obtained advocates. Whether they thought that a new mountain was created and placed between the earth and the sun, or that a mountain from this globe had taken flight and perched upon that great luminary, does not appear.

That this darkness was not caused by an eclipse, is manifest by the various positions of the planetary bodies at that time, for the moon was more than one hundred and fifty degrees from the sun all that day, and, according to the accurate calculations made by the most celebrated astronomers, there could not, in the order of nature, be any transit of the planet Venus or Mercury upon the disc of the sun that year; nor could it be a blazing star—much less a mountain—that darkened the atmosphere, for this would still leave unexplained the deep darkness of the following night. Nor would such excessive nocturnal darkness follow an eclipse of the sun; and as to the moon, she was at that time more than forty hours’ motion past her opposition.

One of the theories, looking to a solution of the mysterious occurrence, which found defenders, was as follows: The heat of the sun causes an ascent of numerous particles which consist of different qualities, such as aqueous, sulphurous, bituminous, salinous, etc.; hence the waters of the seas, rivers, and ponds; the fumes of burning volcanoes, caused by subterraneous veins of liquid fire; all the other kinds of smoke—fat, combustibles, oily matter from various kinds of earth, the juice of trees, plants, and herbs; salinous and nitrous particles from salt, snow-water, and kindred sources;—these are exhaled into the regions of the air, where their positions are subject to various mutations or changes by reason of the motion and compression of the air, causing them to be sometimes rarefied and sometimes condensed. It was (according to this theory) a vast collection of such particles that caused the day of darkness; that is, the particles, after being exhaled, were driven together by certain winds from opposite points of the compass, and condensed to such a degree by the weight of the earth’s atmosphere, that they obstructed the appearance of the rays of the sun by day, and those of the moon by night.

Having thus presented the facts and circumstances pertaining to this notable day in the history of the New England or Northern States, it may not be amiss to add, that a similar day of mysterious darkness

occurred on October 21, 1716; the day was so dark that people were forced to light candles to dine by,—a darkness which could not proceed from any eclipse, a solar eclipse having taken place on the fourth of that month. There was also a remarkable darkness at Detroit and vicinity, October 19, 1762, being almost total for the greater part of the day. It was dark at daybreak, and this continued until nine o’clock, when it cleared up a little, and, for the space of about a quarter of an hour, the body of the sun was visible, it appearing as red as blood, and more than three times as large as usual. The air, all this time, was of a dingy yellowish color. At half-past one o’clock it was so dark as to necessitate the lighting of candles, in order to attend to domestic duties. At about three in the afternoon, the darkness became more dense, increasing in intensity until half-past three, when the wind breezed up from the south-west, and brought on a slight fall of rain, accompanied with a profuse quantity of fine black particles, in appearance much like sulphur, both in smell and quality. A sheet of clean paper, held out in this rain, was rendered quite black wherever the drops fell upon it; but, when held near the fire, it turned to a yellow color, and, when burned, it fizzed on the paper like wet powder. So black did these powdery particles turn everything upon which they fell, that even the river was covered with a black froth, which, when skimmed off the surface, resembled the lather of soap, with this difference, that it was more greasy, and its color as black as ink. At seven in the evening, the air was more clear. This phenomenon was observed throughout a vast region of country; and, though various conjectures were indulged in as to the cause of so extraordinary an occurrence, the same degree of mystery attaches to it as to that of 1780,—confounding the wisdom even of the most learned philosophers and men of science.

It may easily be imagined, that as the deep and mysterious darkness which covered the land on the memorable nineteenth of May filled all hearts with wonder—and multitudes with fear—so, the return, at last, of that brightness and beauty characteristic of the month and of the season, brought gladness again to the faces of the young, and composure to the hearts of the aged; for never before did nature appear clothed in so charming an attire of sunshine, sky, and verdure.

THE WAYS OF LIFE.

By Sel.

The ways of life, mysterious, Work slowly toward some finite ends. Jehovah, ’neath a seeming cloud, His creatures to his purpose bends; When suddenly the end appears, And breaks the spell of waiting years.

O weary pilgrim! where the path Seems fraught with endless perils great; Thy fainting heart may almost sink O’erawed by thy apparent fate; Take courage now, for soon or late, Thy steps will reach the Golden Gate.

O warrior, weary with the strife! Be not oppressed when numbers fright; Thy stalwart foes may legion seem, But don the armor, fight the fight; And in the end, so strong is right, Thy foes shall yield them to thy might.

O seaman! when the tempests rouse And haste thy craft to dangers dark, When mighty billows in the night, Lash with their foam thy struggling bark, Be of stout heart, thy trusty hand Will bring thy cargo safe to land.

O pilgrim! to each weary path There is an ending in good time; O warrior! in each contest fierce There is a victory sublime; O seaman! when the voyage is o’er, There is a haven near the shore.

Only be firm; have faith in God When darkness swallows up the light; Oft is the sun obscured by clouds— To every day there is a night; But unto those who work and pray, There comes an Everlasting Day.

—Sel.

OUT OF EMPLOYMENT.

It appears from the following paragraph which we clip from an article in The Library Table, of June 21, 1877, that we enter upon our second century with as many persons reduced to idleness with all its prospective want and crime, as constituted the entire population of the country when our independence was declared. The rest is told in the paragraph itself:—

“In this first year of our second century of national existence there are said to be three millions of unemployed persons in the United States.

“Who can tell us why or how this appalling situation arose? Who can set forth in colors sufficiently vivid the degradation and demoralization it is bringing upon the sufferers and upon our country? We are dealing with wide-spread effects; let us search into their causes. Are these the ripened fruits of our boasted civilization? Or is this crisis an ordeal through which every nation must pass? Now, if ever, is the time for our legislatures, our political economists, and our social-science reformers, to exert themselves for the benefit of a bankrupt people.”

BLOOD! BLOOD!

By R. M. Kilgore

“Violence covers the earth;” and the cry comes up: When will the carnival of crime cease?

The Morning Mail, of yesterday, records the dark deeds committed within the limits of this city and county during the last two days under the headings: “Oceans of Blood,”—a desperado kills one man and wounds two more, tries to escape, but is pursued, fatally wounded, and captured, “Score another one, the murder market active, and business on the increase,” a man is shot in cold blood. “Accidental death”—a man dies from an accidental discharge of a gun in the hands of another man. “Pugilistic”—a white man makes sausage meat of a negro’s face. “Highwayman”—two men attempt to rob a youth on the streets. But his screams, after being struck on the head with a revolver, cause the citizens to render him help, and the ruffians escape.

In addition to the above, the following headings appear in the same paper recording crime committed abroad: “Another Desperado ‘Dies Game’ with his Boots on,” “Thieves Strung up by Judge Lynch,” “Crime Come to Light,” “The Usual Row in Henston,” “A Nevada Duel with Bowie Knife and Derringer.”

The editor, in the same paper, speaks as follows:—

“Our local columns this morning present a ghastly array of butcheries. Two men murdered, one a few miles distant from the city, another accidentally killed at a neighboring village, while a half dozen unsuccessful attempts are chronicled. We may well pause at this startling array of crime, and ask, When is it to cease? Laws are enacted to punish criminals, but remain dead letters upon our statute books; courts are organized and officers selected to punish law-breakers, yet men guilty of almost every crime in the decalogue are permitted to roam at large and carry on their lawless deeds. Whither are we drifting? When is this reign of crime to cease? The authorities must act. The people, weary of supporting an inefficient government that taxes and yet does not protect them, will be driven to the desperation that seized upon the citizens of California, when they rose in their might, and, acting under a ‘higher law,’ rid their State of the desperadoes and law-breakers who had made their presence a terror to law-abiding people.”

This is a sad comment on the times in which we live. Truly we are living amid the perils of the last days, or is this the beginning of the millennium?

R. M. KILGORE.

Dallas, Tex., June 25.

THE PLAGUE AT BAGDAD.

It is just possible that the Turkish and Russian armies may both have to reckon with a foe for whom they are not prepared, and against whom no amount of bastions or earthworks, no iron-plated ships or turret vessels, can be of avail. The plague is said to be raging in Bagdad with a fury which can no longer be concealed, and to be extending with slow but steady progress along the line of the Tigris. The Constitutional affirms that nearly as many as fifty deaths occur every day in the city, although the total population does not now amount to more than 100,000 souls. The same paper points out that it is more than forty years since this scourge last visited the East. In 1835 Egypt and Turkey were devastated by it, and before that there was an outbreak in Western Europe in 1815, while the disease which had made its appearance in Egypt in 1798 continued its ravages for several years into the present century.

If the malady which is now carrying off so many victims in the old Mohammedan capital is really the same plague known to historians and medical men, it would seem there can be little hope of “localizing” it by any human precautions, even if the Turkish Government had wisdom and leisure enough to devise and put in force such precautions. Modern times appear in some respects to be even more favorable for the spread of the evil than the days gone by. The increased rapidity and frequency of communications between one part of the world and another obviously favor the propagation of infection, even in regions so backward as the Asiatic Turkish provinces.

But a still more powerful agent in spreading the malady is to be found in the pilgrimages which are becoming more numerous and better attended every year. A devotee may now carry with him for scores of miles the seeds of the mortal disease before his retreat is cut off by the growing strength of the hidden malady. Should the infection once reach either of the armies, the scene would be frightful beyond description. No place can possibly be better calculated to attract and retain the plague than a large camp; and now that vast armies are encamped in districts not far removed from Bagdad there are evidently perils still more terrible than war to be faced by the soldiers on each side.—Ex.

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