the last first gentleman who was the
exceptionable odd man. But let us say on behalf of
Number Thirteen, that it was accounted lucky
and not unlucky by the real inquirers into the
mysteries of 1, 2, 3, the neoplatonist magicians.
It was the happy number in which the wise men
of this world were brought to the feet of the
infant Saviour; it was on the thirteenth day after
the nativity, that the star led the magi into
Bethlehem. Fourteen is, therefore, less lucky
than thirteen in the true system of magical
superstition, for the moon was fourteen days
old at the crucifixion, although, on the other
hand, it was observed that Saint Matthew, by the
form of his genealogies, shows a particular friendship
for fourteen. But if we take a thorough
plunge into this subject, it will be clear that the
attainment by the fourteenth prince of the age
of twenty-one, or two sevens becoming three
sevens, points to the important fact that seven is
the real index of power in this case. Now, seven
is a number of great might, and its might lives
also in its multiples. It includes the power of
all its predecessors, seeing that it consists of one
and six, of two and five, of three and four,
wherefore it was said by an old magician to be
"most full of all majesty." It is full also of life,
since it unites the soul and body, for the body
is of the four elements and has four temperaments;
the soul is of three—reason, passion, and
desire. Shall not, then, the number that keeps
body and soul together, signify long life? A
long life undisturbed by discord, seeing that
great has been found to be the harmony resident
in seven; seven also is the ruling number that
befits the omens of a prince. The earliest
chance of life is to a seven months' child. In
seven months the born infant begins its teething,
in twice seven months it can sit without
being held, in thrice seven months it can speak,
in four times seven it can walk, and it used to be
added—for in the sixteenth century, children
were not weaned when their teeth came— in five
times seven months, it begins to dislike the
nurse's milk. At seven years, the male child
becomes a boy, the milk teeth fall, full power
of speech is attained; at twice seven years,
the boy becomes a youth; at thrice seven
years, the youth becomes a man and ceases
to grow taller; at four times seven years,
his body has attained its full natural breadth;
at five times seven years, his strength has
attained its full maturity; at six times seven
years, the man has learnt the right ordering
and skilled use of his faculties; at seven times
seven, he is ripe; and seven decades is the
term of his appointed life. Seven feet is
the extreme natural limit to the height of a
man's body, which has seven principal parts.
That body is sustained by breathing and feeding,
and it used to be held that seven hours was the
limit of life without breath, seven days the limit
of life without food. The seventh day of a
disease was held to be the critical day. There
were seven Pleiades—seven planets—the moon
changed by sevens in her quarters. Seven was
the great number by which the Hebrews swore;
seventh years were sacred among the Jews, and
seven times a day the prophet uttered praise.
There are seven days, seven ages of the world,
seven colours. It used to be said there were
seven liberal, seven mechanical, and seven
prohibited, arts. Rome had seven hills, and
seven kings, and seven civil wars. Seven was
the number of the wise men of Greece. There
were seven sleepers, seven sacraments, seven
orders of clergy, seven capital sins. There are
seven holes in a man's head—two at the nose, two
at the eyes, two at the ears and one at the mouth.
With such facts before us, dark indeed must
have been the Friday that connected a thirteen
with the thrice seventh year of the twice
seventh Prince of Wales.

Yet thirteen is good. They are ignorant of
the true mysteries of magic who consider that
number unlucky; and as to Friday, was it not a
most fortunate day for the renowned Captain
Gonsalvo, who, when he fought on a Friday,
always thrashed the French? But so it is that
the day lucky for one man is declared by the
observers of signs and marvels to be unlucky
for another. Tuesday was the unlucky
day for Thomas à Becket. On a Tuesday, the
peers sat against him at Northampton; on a
Tuesday, he was banished; on a Tuesday, he
had a vision warning him of martyrdom to
come; on a Tuesday, he returned from exile;
on a Tuesday he was slain; and on a Tuesday,
fifty years afterwards, his body was translated.
For Henry the Eighth and his family,
Thursday was the fatal day. On a Thursday he
died. On a Thursday, Edward the Sixth died.
On a Thursday, Queen Mary died. On a Thursday,
Queen Elizabeth died. Let Friday, then,
assert itself, and let the blot also be wiped
from the good number thirteen—the number of
liberality, the baker's dozen.

NUTCRACKER.

"WANDERING in his head!" said a voice
somewhere in the dark.

What voice was it, I wondered? And where
was it? But I could not pursue the inquiry,
having other things to attend to.

* * * * *

I had never before realised how much I loved
her. Never, indeed, had anything till now
made me conscious how entirely this love of her
had transfused itself through all my inner life;
nor how it had been all this while (as I now
began to grow aware) her song, and not the song
of the blackbird, that had made so pleasant to
me our customary evening walks in the President's
orchard; her smile, and not that famous
sparkling hock, which had so sweetened the old
gentleman's daily hospitalities. And now, that
his insolent puppy from Paris, that he should
presume to invade the distant sacred sweetness
of that beloved soul, with the familiarity of his
smiles, and the frivolity of his compliments!

My mind went back to early times, and seemed
to creep into the past for refuge. My old