The Difference Bishop Ross, famous for his brilliant wit and fine humor, was discussing with some friends a new book, “Thoughts about Time and Eternity,” when some one, who found fault with the title, asked him to explain to him the difference between time and eternity. “If I took the time to explain that to you, it would take me an eternity to make you understand it,” was the bishop’s answer. An Appropriate Text During a celebration at Berlin, followed by the distribution of some orders, an old general asked Count Ross whether it was not very hard for clergymen always to find an appropriate Bible text, for sermons on special occasions. “Not as hard as you think,” replied the bishop, “we have our concordance and other books of help, which never fail us.” “What text would be proper for the present celebration?” “Oh, that is not hard; you will find it at the beginning of St. Matthew, at the birth of Christ, where the evangelist says of the three wise men: ‘And when they saw _the star_, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.’” A Flash of Wit Carl Lachmann was famed for his witty answers. In 1828 he was called to Berlin as rector of the University. One time he was presiding at a meeting of the faculty. It had grown late and pretty dark, when H., the dean of the theological department, entered. On seeing him, Lachmann called to the usher: “Herr Schade, have the lights brought; darkness has entered.” The Other Half A colleague, who had married a wealthy woman, and who liked to show off, asked Lachmann: “What do you think the addition to my house has cost me?” “Half,” was the dry, curt answer. A Grave Joke When a friend informed him of the death of the minister of finances, Lachmann said seriously: “Yes, death comes easy enough to such as he, but the likes of us must first give up his soul.” Linné’s Revenge Linné, the great naturalist, followed the principle of never taking notice of criticism. His bitterest opponent was Browall—a small light beside the great scientist. At first Browall’s behavior was very humble and modest, so Linné called a plant, of which only one species was known at that time “Browallia demissa” (demure or modest Browallia). Later on, after Browall had been advanced, he acted the high and mighty towards Linné, and he, having found a second species of his plant called it, “Browallia elata” (elated Browallia). At this Browall was very angry and wrote a great number of excited articles against Linné, who avenged himself further by naming a third species of the plant “Browallia alienata” (alienated Browallia). In this way he certainly took a lasting revenge, for this anecdote will live as long as botany lives. Never Drank Water When the poet Hagedorn was mortally ill, he asked his physician, what his illness was. “Water, my dear Hagedorn, too much water in your breast.” “Why, that’s entirely impossible,” replied Hagedorn; “I never drank, in all my life, a whole glass of water.” A Great Advantage