The High Wood

Encyclopedia Britannica have recently produced a facsimile edition of the 1st edition of the Encyclopedia – published between 1768 and 1771. A special offer in New Scientist offered it for $299.00 (Australian dollars) which is a steal.

It comes in three volumes and is a photo-facsimile of an original copy – right down to the little brown marks on some of the pages. Back then, the letter ‘s’ still looked like the letter ‘f’. The attached pamphlet suggested that this arose from the manuscript tradition where using the long s meant you didn’t have to lift your hand from the paper to go on to the next letter. Trailing s’s are not long but are the normal s. Thus you have one ftephen but two ftephens.

Unlike modern encyclopedias, it has a few very large entries (Agriculture, Algebra, Anatomy, Arithmetic, Astronomy) and lots of small one or two line definitions rather like a dictionary. It is fascinating to see the level of scientific and engineering knowledge at around the beginning of the Industrial Revolution.

Given that I am working on a series of 18th century novels (see earlier blog entries about The Unfortunate Deaths of Jonathan Wild) it is proving an invaluable resource. This should be especially true as the series progresses – the first book ends in 1725.

The long s’s are causing a few problems in terms of easy reading but I dare say I shall get used to it. If at firft you don’t fucceed…

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Robert goes to a pre-school run by a nearby Baptist Church. I am not a great fan of the Baptists but the pre-school is terrific – run by really good, caring people. Which is ultimately far more important than their brand of religion.

Every year, as these things do, they have a little presentation by the kids – singing a few songs, doing a little dance and so forth. I have no objection to this – I would even encourage it.

However…

They hold the thing inside the church. It is a modern building and, in the manner of many Dissenting religions, is firmly non-ritualistic. There is an altar but it is just a table and it was pushed across to one side to make room for the kids. Very sensible.

The ghastly part was not the kids, nor the decor. It was the singing vicar and the rock band pounding out happy songs about the love of a certain deity. They were a good band too – tight timing, good sound. Couldn’t fault that bit.

Back when I was growing up, going to church was all about boredom. You sat on a hard pew, listened to people singing simpering Victorian hymns and tried to sleep through the sermon. At Christmas the hymns became carols which at least had good tunes but the principle was the same.

So, somehow, all this happy singing goes against the grain for me. To my mind, a quick look around the world knocks the loving, merciful god theory firmly on the head. Seeing a bunch of beautiful young people, singing about how wonderful things are, irritates the hell out of me (if you’ll pardon the expression). The pretty girl playing the piano was wearing pearl earrings for god’s sake (that unintentionally has a clever double meaning so I’ll leave it in, with apologies).

No, I am firmly of the opinion that church services should be about suffering. If it was good enough for me, it’s good enough for this young generation of whippersnappers.

Never did me any harm.

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