Notes.—“The nineteenth of May, 1780, was a remarkably dark day. Candles were lighted in many houses. The birds were silent, and disappeared. The fowls retired to roost. It was the general opinion that the day of judgment was at hand. The legislature of Connecticut was in session at Hartford, but being unable to transact business, adjourned.”—President Dwight, in “Historical Collections.”

“In some places persons could not see to read common print in the open air for several hours together. Birds sang their evening song, disappeared, and became silent; fowls went to roost; cattle sought the barn-yard; and candles were lighted in the houses. The obscuration began about ten o'clock in the morning, and continued until the middle of the next night, but with differences of degree and duration in different places.... The true causes of this remarkable phenomenon are not known.”—Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, edition 1883, page 1604, in article “The Dark Day.”

Herschel, the great astronomer, says: “The dark day in Northern America was one of those wonderful phenomena of nature which will always be read with interest, but which philosophy is at a loss to explain.” [pg 321] The darkness was not caused by any eclipse of the sun by the moon, for the moon had fulled only the night before, and consequently was on the opposite side of the earth from the sun.

“The darkness of the following evening was probably as deep and dense as ever had been observed since the Almighty first 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.”—“Our First Century,” by R. M. Devins, page 94.

The darkness of the night was as supernatural as that of the previous day, from the fact, as stated by Dr. Adams, that “the moon had fulled the day before.”

Notes.—The celebrated astronomer and meteorologist, Professor Olmsted, of Yale College, says: “Those who were so fortunate as to witness the exhibition of shooting stars on the morning of Nov. 13, 1833, probably saw the greatest display of celestial fireworks that has ever been since the creation of the world, or at least within the annals covered by the pages of history.... The extent of the shower of 1833 was such as to cover no inconsiderable part of the earth's surface, from the middle of the Atlantic on the east to the Pacific on the west; and from the northern coast of South America to undefined regions among the British possessions on the north the exhibition was visible, and everywhere presented nearly the same appearance.”

“At Niagara the exhibition was especially brilliant, and probably no spectacle so terribly grand and sublime was ever before beheld by man as that of the firmament descending in fiery torrents over the dark and roaring cataract.”—The American Encyclopedia, edition 1881, article “Meteor.”

Upon reading a statement that modern fireworks excel this greatest exhibition of shooting stars, Mr. Clarkson, father of the former editors of the paper from which the following quotation is made, and himself agricultural editor of it, said: “The writer of that sentence did not witness the glorious meteoric shower of November, 1833, when the display was so much superior to any artistic display of fireworks that neither language nor any element in nature can furnish comparisons. The comparison of the sheet-iron thunder of the theaters to the electric display of Providence when the heavens are all on fire, and the earth trembles, would be tolerable. But the awful grandeur of the display on the night of the thirteenth of November, 1833, which made the stoutest heart stand in awe, and the most defiant infidel quake with fear, is never to be compared with the most brilliant fireworks. Those who witnessed the meteoric shower named saw the greatest display that man ever will see until the day that Peter speaks of when the heavens, being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat. The agricultural editor of the Register was out alone with a team and load of lumber all night on that never-to-be-forgotten night. And he cannot now consent to hear of human fireworks being superior to that most grand and sublime spectacle ever before or since beheld by man. Patent fireworks are no nearer this wonderful phenomenon than a lightning-bug is equal to the sun.”—Iowa State Register, July 12, 1889.

Notes.—“Those who study the map of Europe at the present moment, and the condition of things in Europe, must feel that there is hanging over us a war-cloud greater than any that has hung over Europe before. It means when it bursts, and burst it will as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow, ... a war of extinction, of devastation, between great nations whose populations are armed and trained to fight.”—Lord Wolseley.

“It is impossible for any one to contemplate the present naval and military arrangements without the gravest forebodings.... In fact, we never now have any real peace; we live practically in a state of war.”—Sir John Lubbock.

“The danger, if the Ottoman Empire fall, would not merely be the danger that would threaten the territories of which that empire consists; it would be the danger that the fire there lit should spread to the other nations, and should involve all that is most powerful and civilized in Europe in a dangerous and calamitous contest.”—Lord Salisbury, in Mansion House Speech, London, Nov. 9, 1895.

“There can be no division of either of those countries [Turkey or Persia] without setting all the nations of Europe at the throats of each other.”—Washington Post, April 24, 1909.

“This is the most unsettled condition of the world since the crucifixion of Christ. The stability of government is no longer a fact. Change is in the atmosphere.... Statesmen are at their wits' end. Philosophers speculate in vain.”—The Late Bishop Newman.