I will give an old instance in which literature got into confusion about astronomy. Theophrastus,[292] who is either the culprit or his historian, attributes to Meton,[293] the contriver of the lunar calendar of nineteen years, which lasts to this day, that his solstices were determined for him by a certain Phaeinus of Elis on Mount Lycabettus. Nobody else mentions this astronomer: though it is pretty certain that Meton himself made more than one appointment with him for the purpose of observing solstices; and we may be sure that if either were behind his time, it was Meton. For _Phaeinus Helius_ is the shining sun himself; and in the astronomical poet Aratus[294] we read about the nineteen years of the shining sun: [Greek: Enneakaideka kukla phaeinou eelioio].[295] Some man of letters must have turned Apollo into Phaeinus of Elis; and there he is in the histories of astronomy to {168} this day. Salmasius[296] will have Aratus to have meant him, and proposes to read [Greek: eleioio]: he did not observe that Phaeinus is a very common adjective of Aratus, and that, if his conjecture were right, this Phaeinus would be the only non-mythical man in the poems of Aratus. [When I read Sir George Lewis's book, the points which I have criticized struck me as not to be wondered at, but I did not remember why at the time. A Chancellor of the Exchequer and a writer on ancient astronomy are birds of such different trees that the second did not recall the first. In 1855 I was one of a deputation of about twenty persons who waited on Sir G. Lewis, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, on the subject of a decimal coinage. The deputation was one of much force: Mr. Airy, with myself and others, represented mathematics; William Brown,[297] whose dealings with the United States were reckoned by yearly millions, counted duodecimally in England and decimally in America, was the best, but not the only, representative of commerce. There were bullionists, accountants, retailers, etc. Sir G. L. walked into the room, took his seat, and without waiting one moment, began to read the deputation a smart lecture on the evils of a decimal coinage; it would require alteration of all the tables, it would impede calculation, etc. etc. Of those arguments against it which weighed with many of better knowledge than his, he obviously knew nothing. The members of the deputation began to make their statements, and met with curious denials. He interrupted me with "Surely there is no doubt that the calculations of our books of arithmetic are easier {169} than those in the French books." He was not aware that the _universally admitted_ superiority of decimal _calculation_ made many of those who prefer our system for the market and the counter cast a longing and lingering look towards decimals. My answer and the smiles which he saw around, made him give a queer puzzled look, which seemed to say, "I may be out of my depth here!" His manner changed, and he listened.