But it would require a whole book to give even a brief account of the transformation of geographical nomenclature in Greece brought about by foreign conquest.
"Psychological moment" (10 S. x. 488).—I have a dim notion that this phrase was first used by Bismarck, towards the end of his career, and soon transplanted into English journalese. I have always understood it to mean that a thing is said or done just when it fits in with some prevailing idea of the moment. "Happy thought!" conveys the same meaning in fewer letters.
I believe this phrase is French in origin, and that it has been discussed recently in the Intermédiaire. But the last table générale that I have is of 1897, and shows only two entries (xv. 199, 304 [1882]) under this head.
William Blackborough, Milton's Relative (10 S. x. 488).—William Blackborough and John Milton, father of the poet, married two ladies who were first cousins.
Richard Jefferye of East Hanningfield, Essex, had a daughter Hester, who married William Blackborow by licence at St. Peter's, Cornhill, on Tuesday, 19 Feb., 1618/19.
Paul Jefferye of St Swithin's, London, Merchant Taylor, brother of Richard Jefferye, had a daughter Sarah, who married John Milton, father of the poet, in 1600.
Mr. McMurray will find particulars in Milton notes published in The Athenæum of 13 March, 1880, and subsequent numbers.
Queen Elizabeth's Day, 17 November (10 S. x. 381, 431, 477).—The Amicable Society of Blues, the oldest of the Old Boys' Associations connected with Christ's Hospital, also observes the date of the accession of "that bright Occidental Star, Queen Elizabeth of most happy memory," as she was called by the translators of the Authorized Version in their address to King James I.
The Society claims to have been originated in connexion with a meeting for thanksgiving and festivity held by former scholars of Christ's Hospital on 15 Sept., 1629. The thanksgiving was in Christ Church, Newgate Street; the festivity in the Great Hall of the Hospital.
Under his will, dated in August, 1663, Thomas Barnes, citizen and Haberdasher of London, left money (inter alia) for a sermon to be preached in Christ Church yearly on 17 November, and for a dinner on that day for those Governors of the Hospital who had been at the hearing of the sermon.
The sermon is still preached, but the dinner has been discontinued since the old order of things at the Hospital yielded place to the new; but the Amicable Society, as the repository of the old traditions of the house, unwilling to let die the festive observance of the day, resolved in 1896 to dine together annually on their own account, and at their own expense, on Queen Elizabeth's and Barnes's Day.
The many good deeds of Barnes are on record in the chronicles both of Christ's Hospital and of the Society.
To the instances of bell-ringing on Queen Elizabeth's Day may be added an extract from the churchwardens' accounts at Repton:—
"Geven to the Rynggars of the coronation day, iix. iiijd."—Journal of the Derbyshire Archæological and Natural History Society, I. 30.
At p. 34 is a reference to Archbishop Grindal's form of prayer with thanksgiving to be used on the day. Ayeahr.
"Old King Cole" (10 S. x. 510).—Miss Mooyart is not learned in 'King Cole,' or she would not describe "the final verse" of an immortal poem that has no end. A great Lord Justice, now retired, was famed, in the year preceding his brilliant mathematical degree as Senior Wrangler, for having sung without mistake, except that wilful error which confuses the prayer of the parson with the oaths of the sailor, more verses of 'King Cole' by far than the highest amount previously attained. There is no limit except the ingenuity of invention and the perfection of memory bestowed by nature on the singer. The trades omitted by Miss Mooyart are the most interesting, except indeed those "fiddlers" (pronounced "fiddl-ee-ers") who stand first. Next to these favourites are the "Drumm-ee-ers" and the coachmen; the parsons and the sailors being a little high-flavoured for general society, although in no way truly shocking. As for the music, there is but one tune. It is chiefly on one note: almost entirely on two; and to write it down in notation (such as perhaps Gounod alone could have accomplished) would hardly,
