In China, according to Seymour,1 "the lao-tsen, as the cross is called, is acknowledged to be one of the most ancient devices, known long anterior to the Sakya-Buddha era. It symbolizes heaven." Among the Japanese, Tartars, Persians, and others the cross is associated with, and is the symbol of royalty and of the supreme deities.2 The cross patté is supposed by many to have typified the elysium of the four great gods of the Assyrians-Ra and the first Triad.3 "When the officiating priests, on the eve of the Passover in Egypt, sprinkled the blood of a victim in sacrifice upon the consecrated bread and hallowed utensils, it was in the form of a cross. Even, when occasion required the moving of the victims or the waving of the branches of palm, the motion was made to indicate the figure of the "In India the cross bears the same meaning as in Egypt. When with four equal arms, it signifies the four elements, which the Hindoos consider as eternal and the component parts of all things." "The Thor's-hammer cross of the Scandinavians was also the symbol of godly power used in worship, and referred no doubt to the dwelling places of the gods, which were everywhere in the universe." "Even to this used in the magical witches, who claim day this hammer (the fylfot cross) is rites still practised in Iceland by the thereby to rule the universe. "'" Although the division of the mythical environment into four regions is not clearly indicated in all of these citations, it is highly probable that there was originally such a division, and it is clear that the conception was common to many peoples. A corresponding geographical placement is indicated among numerous other peoples by the occurrence of the four rivers in their conception of paradise. 1 Seymour, William Wood. The Cross in Tradition, History, and Art, p. 13. Ibid., pp. 14, 15. Ibid., p. 17. Ibid. p. 20. Ibid., p. 9. Ibid., pp. 28-29. Other symbols of wide distribution, corresponding in character and application to the cross, are the Yin and Yang of the Chinese1 and Japanese, (No. 1); the Ta Ki of the Chinese, (No. 2); and the Triskiles of various peoples, (No. 3); and these may find their proper interpretation in the primitive separation of the universe and its rulers into two or three regions instead of four. These devices also assumed many differing forms and received ever-changing interpretations with the passing centuries. It has been shown that the cross as a religious symbol is the common property of many widely distributed peoples. The similarity in its significance and application everywhere has given rise to the theory that it must have spread from some original centre to the farthest ends of the world through intercourse and migration of peoples. But the belief now prevails among men of science that this theory is untenable, and we must look to some source common to primitive peoples generally. Such common source is to be sought neither in the picturing of natural forms, nor in the designs of the decorator, as in such use the cross has usually no deep significance or, at most, no widespread application, but in the use of symbols embodying religious concepts common to many peoples, and deeply impressed upon the primitive mind in general. Such a source is recognized in the separation of the primitive cosmos into four regions, and the transference of the sacred character of the beings occupying these to the device, which in course of common usage came to represent them. 1 Brinton, D. G. The Ta Ki, the Swastika, and the Cross in America, 1889. IDEAL NEWPORT IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. BY WILLIAM B. WEEDEN. At the opening of the eighteenth century, the world was growing weary of war. The brutal rule of Spain had been overcome and the aggressive ambition of Louis XIV. was checked by the diplomatic skill of William of Orange; while the increasing sea-power of Great Britain was beginning to balance the continent. The divine mission of Grotius in the previous century was bearing fruit, and, though France and England contended here and there, these struggles were not wars of extermination. Forces other than warlike were getting exercise and practice, and where was the opportunity better than in a new world, in Aquidneck the isle of peace by the sea? Where did the new forms of civilization assert themselves beter and in a more graceful form? New England was just passing out of the ebb. The later seventeenth century had not developed citizens, equal to the pioneers who had led the way, but stronger men were coming. In the eighties there was a marked increase of commerce, of which a large share came to Newport. With commerce came the opportunity for that expansion, which the conditions of the place greatly favored. In his Century Sermon of 1738, Callender cited Neale in the statement "this is deservedly esteemed the Paradise of New England for the fruitfulness of the soil and the temperateness of the climate." Enthusiasts for this landscape and climate have magnified and illumined their theme, with every resource of rhetoric, as time has gone on. "It appeals to one's alertness rather than to a lazy receptivity. You miss its quality entirely if your faculties are not in a state of real activity. This does not exclude composure or imply excitement." In winter, there might be difference of opinion. Mr. George Bradford, a true lover of nature, told me there was all the capricious, beguiling promise of the New England spring with double disappointments in effect. Yet a fine day can tempt a zealot in this wise. "The lotos-eating season is over, plainly, yet there is the same agreeable absence of demand on any specific energies as in summer. The envelope of color-that delightful garment that Newport never puts off-is as evident to the senses as in midsummer, though more silvery in quality." Richard Greenough claimed it to be the American Venice, according to Dr. Hale. Conscious enlargement and the spirit of growth records itself in 1712, when John Mumford was ordered to survey the streets and number them. "The town had grown to be the admiration of all and was the metropolitan" said the fond record.1 For the first three decades the expanding community was being prepared for the event which was greatly to affect it, and to influence all New England. Rev. George Berkeley, Dean of Derry, had put forth his "Principles of Human Knowledge" in 1710. Flippant writers in these two centuries have laughed at the transcendent principles of Berkeley, but those laugh best who laugh last. The Dean only held firmly that "the universally acknowledged ultimate cause cannot be the empty abstraction called Matter. There must be living mind at the root of things. Mind must be the very substance and consistence and cause of whatever is. In recognizing this wondrous principle, life is simplified to man."2 Certainly the world of Knowledge has moved toward rather than away from the philosopher, since this was written. Here was the creative and impelling idea needed to lift commercial and material Newport out of pioneer life, and into communion with an older civilization and a more refined culture. Berkeley, on his way to found a college at Bermuda, landed at Newport, Jan. 23, 1729, by accident or design as 1 Rhode Island Historical Magazine, Vol. VI., p. 216. is disputed, and remained there about three years. Rev. James Honyman was preaching in Trinity church, founded at the beginning of the century, when the letter from Dean Berkeley, proposing to land, was received. He read it to the congregation, dismissing them with a blessing. The pastor and his flock repaired to the wharf in time for the landfall. In this dramatic manner, the ideas of the old world were received into the new. The philosopher confirms all our reports of the beauty and extraordinary, progressive character of the place, with its 6000 inhabitants. "The most thriving, flourishing place in all America for its bigness." We shall note the sectaries, who agreed in a rage for finery, the men in flaming scarlet coats and waistcoats, laced and fringed with brightest glaring yellow. The s'y Quakers, not venturing on these charming costs and waistcoats, yet loving finery, figured away with plate on their sideboards. "2 Graduates from Harvard College were frequent, with an occasional native who had been educated at an English university. The girls were often sent to Boston for their schooling. Dissenters naturally attracted the notice of this goodhumored ecclesiast. "The inhabitants are of a mixed kind, consisting of many sorts and subdivisions of sects. Here are four sorts of Anabaptists besides Presbyterians, Quakers, Independents, and many of no profession at all. Notwithstanding so many differences, here are fewer quarrels shout religion than elsewhere, the people living peaceably with their neighbours of whatever profession. They all sgree in one point, that the Church of England is second best." This accommodating spirit noted by the Dean was enforced in most piquant manner by Captain William Wanton, a Qusker and a son of a preacher. He courted Ruth Brvant, the beautiful daughter of a Presbyterian descon in Scituate, Mass., who would not bear of such laxity in marriage, but the ardent groom solved the difficulty. * Thud, p. 160. bid. p. 157. • [bul. p. 160. |