Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 16).djvu/616
guages, that it would be hopeless to attempt to trace the name of any one day all round. But is the case inconceivable that the same land and the same language should continue all round the world? I cannot see that it is; in that case either[1] there would be no distinction at all between each successive day, and so week, month, etc., so that we should have to say, 'The Battle of Waterloo happened to-day, about two million hours ago,' or some line would have to be fixed, where the change should take place, so that the inhabitant of one house would wake and say, 'Heigh-ho[2] Tuesday morning!' and the inhabitant of the next (over the line), a few miles to the west, would wake a few minutes afterwards and say, 'Heigh-ho! Wednesday morning!' What hopeless confusion the people who happened to live on the line would always be in, it is not for me to say. There would be a quarrel every morning as to what the name of the day should be. I can imagine no third case, unless everybody was allowed to choose for themselves, which state of things would be rather worse than either of the other two.
"I am aware that this idea has been started before, namely, by the unknown author of that beautiful poem beginning, 'If all the world were apple pie,'[3] etc. The particular result here discussed does not appear to have occurred to him; as he confines himself to the difficulties in obtaining drink which would certainly ensue.
"Any good solution of the above difficulty will be thankfully received and inserted. The second 'difficulty' is one which would only appear to be difficult to a very young child, one would think, as it is purely a verbal complexity.
"No. 2.
"Which is the best: a clock that is right only once a year, or a clock that is right twice every day? 'The latter,' you reply, 'unquestionably.' Very good, reader, now attend.
"I have two clocks: one doesn't go at all, and the other loses a minute a day; which would you prefer? 'The losing one,' you answer, 'without a doubt.' Now observe: the one which loses a minute a day has to lose twelve hours, or seven hundred and twenty minutes, before it is right again; consequently, it is only right once in two years, whereas the other is evidently right as often as the time it points to comes round, which happens twice a day. So you've contradicted yourself once. "Ah, but,' you say, 'what's the use of its being right twice a day, if I can't tell when the time comes? Why, suppose the clock points to eight o'clock, don't you see that the clock is right at eight o'clock? Consequently, when eight comes your clock is right. 'Yes, I see that!' you reply.[4] Very good, then you've contradicted yourself twice; now get out of the difficulty as you can, and don't contradict yourself again if you can help it."
- ↑ This is clearly an impossible case, and is only put as an hypothesis.
- ↑ The usual exclamation at waking; generally said with a yawn.
- ↑
If all the world were apple pie,
And all the sea were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What should we have to drink? - ↑ You might go on to ask, "How am I to know when eight o'clock does come? My clock will not tell me." Be patient, reader; you know that when eight o'clock comes your clock is right. Very good; then your rule is this: keep your eye fixed on your clock, and the very moment it is right it will be eight o'clock. "But———" you say. There, that'll do, reader; the more you argue the farther you get from the point, so it will be as well to stop.