The daily morning journal and courier., 1895-04-18
ABSEN1-A1INDED CE1EBRrrrES.
A Variety of Good Anecdotes Collected from
 Various Sources.

ed, is a sign of great mind; but this
 statement, like the one which affirms l that want of manners in the present.
 day drawing-room is an indication of
 the same thing. is somewhat open to criticism. It is true that some great
 men have been absent-minded, but then
 there are probably thousands of men
 who were not celebrated who have suf-
 fered from the same undesirable inflrm-
 ity, but who, simply because they were
 neither born great, achieved greatness,
 nor had greatness thrust upon them,
 and, therefore, did not have their ac- tions brought to the notice of the pub
 lie, were born to blush unseen, and waste their absent-mlndedness on an unappreciative family circle, Still,
 there is no doubt, says the London Standard, that mental alteration fre- quently goes hand-in-hand with great mental ability, and there are many his torieal examples of this. The earliest example seems to have been Socrates,
 who would frequently remain an entire day and night without moving a muscle
 of his body staring Into space and
 thinking. During these meditations, If
 some one spoke to him, he would not
 know in the least what was being said,
 and if food were brought and placed
 beside him it would remain untouched
 This species of absent-mindedness
 might almost be called madness; but
 with Dante, the Italian 1t was mental
 alteration pure and simple. He went
 to see a procession in Rome, and, to see
 1t more plainly. went into the shop of
 bookseller of his acquaintance. A
 book lay upon the counter, and Dante,
 taking it up, soon became so absorbed
 in it's contents that the procession pass
 ed by unnoticed, although there was
 noise and music enough to have waken-
 ed the mythical seven sleepers. When
 he went home and was asked about the
 procession, he confessed that he had not
 seen 1t and had even forgotten that
 there had been such thing. Hogarth
 the painter, was much given to ab- sent-mindedness. He used to become so absorbed in the designs which en- gagged his pencil that he would do all manner of curious things. If any one spoke to him he would answer some thing quite off the subject, and at din- her he would get up, twirl his chair round, and sit with his back to the ta- ble and his hosts. After sitting thus for, perhaps, five minutes, he would jump up, turn his chair back to the right position. and go with his dinner in silence.
 Sir Isaac Newton's fits of abstraction were as numerous as they were funny. Everybody knows the story of his cats
 how he made two holes in his door, a large one for the mother cat, and small one for the kitten. There is no doubt that this was done in a fit of t-mindedness; but the following Is more curious. One day his friend, Dr. Stukeley, called to see him, and was shown into the dining room. Newton sent him word that he would be with him directly, but, being engaged on some problems. he thought no more of the natter The doctor had come a great distance to see him. and after waiting for a long time, became excess sively hungry. To add to his misery a servant laid the table for the philos- opher's dinner, and after while a roasted fowl was served up. Of course, the doctors appetite was considerably increased by this, and at last, being able to stand it no longer, he applied | himself to the fowl and other comesti- bles with such vigor that very soon there was nothing left for his host. At l last Newton came down, and, seeing l that the dinner was gone, said, q pro test had entirely forgotten that had eaten my dinner. You see, doctor, how oblivious we philosophers arer
 Most people have, at one time or oth- er heard the somewhat hyperbolcaI l story of the man who was so absent- l minded that he put his trousers into | bed and hung himself over the back of | the chair. This story is almost better I ed, however, by one told of Lord Rox- burgh, and supposed to be, like Caesars | wife, above suspicion. The story runs | that one day friend came \ Into his dressing room and | found him standing before the wall | shaving himself. It was only on being l told that the looking glass was not | there that he perceived his mistake, and | ringing for his maid, asked her why | lis glass had been taken away. Why | bless you, sir" was the answer, "my ady had it removed nearly eight weeks lgo." Richard Brinsley Sheridan was given to frequent fits of abstraction. During a conversation with his sister, n which he became deeply interested, le took up pair of scissors from the able, and with them began to snip tt pair of ruffies which she had been working for her father. Every clinch- ng word in the argument was empha- ized by a snip from the scissors-both ,eing too deeply engaged in the conver- ation to notice it--until finally the con- ,ersation and the ruffies were at an end ! ogether.
 Monsieur Thomas, the great French writer, was very fond of snuff, and also if country life. Tn addition he was ab- and during his fits would it by the hour under hedge talking o himself in low voice, and taking the anne pinch of snuff over and over again without being aware of the fact that it ad long ago disappeared. Bruyere, the French author, is supposed to have ob- aimed his material for the Absent Ian' from the Count de Brancas. This gentleman was reading one night by lis fireside when the nurse brought him l