"The widow could no longer contain her affliction and said, 'Anathema,' to the sheep, upon which Aaron observed, 'It is written, all that is anathema (cursed) in Israel belongs to thee;' and took away the sheep altogether." What is not so pleasant, yet very remarkable, is that in a suit between the clergy of Rheims and the citizens, this instance from the Talmud was cited by the advocate of the citizens. Gaumin asserts that he witnessed it. In the meantime it may be answered that the tithe-holders do not take _all_ from the people, the tax-gatherers will not suffer it. To every one his share is just. CURIOSITY. _Suave, mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis,_ _E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem;_ _Non quia vexari quemquam est jucunda voluptas,_ _Sed quibus ipse malis careas, quia cernere suave est._ _Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri_ _Per campos instructa tua sine parte pericli;_ _Sed nil dulcius est, bene quam munita tenere_ _Edita doctrina sapientum templa serena_ _Despicere unde queas alios, passimque videre_ _Errare, atque viam palantes quaerere vitae,_ _Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate,_ _Noctes atque dies niti praestante labore_ _Ad summas emergere opes, rerumque potiri._ _O miseras hominum mentes! O pectora caeca!_ 'Tis pleasant, when the seas are rough, to stand And view another's danger, safe at land; Not 'cause he's troubled, but 'tis sweet to see Those cares and fears, from which ourselves are free; Tis also pleasant to behold from far How troops engage, secure ourselves from war. But, above all, 'tis pleasantest to get The top of high philosophy, and set On the calm, peaceful, nourishing head of it; Whence we may view, deep, wondrous deep below, How poor mistaken mortals wandering go, Seeking the path to happiness; some aim At learning, not nobility, or fame; Others, with cares and dangers vie each hour To reach the top of wealth and sovereign power. Blind, wretched man, in what dark paths of strife We walk this little journey of our life. --CREECH'S _Lucretius_. I ask your pardon, Lucretius! I suspect that you are here as mistaken in morals as you are always mistaken in physics. In my opinion it is curiosity alone that induces people to hasten to the shore to see a vessel in danger of being overwhelmed in a tempest. The case has happened to myself, and I solemnly assure you that my pleasure, mingled as it was with uneasiness and distress, did not at all arise from reflection, nor originate in any secret comparison between my own security and the danger of the unfortunate crew. I was moved by curiosity and pity.