Hence this ring combined the curative or talismanic powers attributed to the toad, the serpent and the dragon.[515]

The ring of St. Mark, said to have been long preserved in the treasury of St. Mark’s cathedral at Venice, was believed to have been acquired in a miraculous way. In the time of Henry III (1216–1272) the body of the saint, which had been taken to the cathedral, was suddenly missed and no trace of it could be found. Resort was then had to prayers and supplications, and these appear to have been answered, for one day the sacristan, while traversing the nave, saw an arm emerge from one of the pillars. He hastened to report this wonderful thing to the Doge and the cathedral clergy, who on reaching the building became witnesses of the miracle. As they were kneeling reverently before the column the hand of the apparition opened and let fall a ring, which was picked up by the Bishop of Olivolo. At the same instant, hand and arm disappeared, and the column opened, revealing in its interior an iron casket in which were the lost remains of St. Mark.

Not many years later this ring served to give proof of an appearance of the saint. One February day a fearful storm arose, piling up the waters of the lagoons and threatening the destruction of Venice. In the midst of the tempest, a man approached one of the gondoliers on the Riva dei Schiavoni, near the cathedral, and asked to be rowed across the canal to San Giorgio Maggiore. It was in vain that the gondolier protested he could not make head against the storm; he was at last forced to yield to the importunities of his would-be passenger. But what was his surprise to find that his boat proceeded as easily as though no storm were raging. On their arrival at San Giorgio Maggiore they were joined by another man, and the gondolier was now directed to proceed to the Lido. This time his reluctance was less difficult to overcome, although the storm was growing worse, for he felt encouraged by the ease with which he had already made part of the journey. And sure enough his long row to the Lido was equally uneventful. Here a third man joined the party, and the gondolier was told to row out between the castles on either side of the entrance into the open Adriatic. Feeling that he could now refuse nothing, the gondolier undertook to accomplish this apparently impossible task, and succeeded in reaching the sea. Here there arose before them a ship manned by the demons of the storm, who were steering their way in toward Venice, bringing utter destruction with them. And now the three men in the little boat stood up and pronounced an exorcism of such power that the ship foundered, and the demons, howling fearfully, were swallowed up in the deep. Immediately the tempest was stilled and the waves died down. The gondolier was now ordered to take his passengers back to the places where they embarked, and when the last of them, the first one he had picked up, stepped on to the Riva dei Schiavoni, he announced himself to be Mark, the Evangelist, and dropped a ring worth five ducats into the gondolier’s hand, telling him to show it to the authorities and say that it was St. Mark’s ring, in proof of which they would find that its carefully locked receptacle in the cathedral was empty.[516] This proved to be true, and the gondolier received a liberal pension as a reward for having aided, however humbly, in the preservation of Venice by St. Mark.[517]

The marvellous ring of Gyges may have suggested to Abbot Tritheim, or Trithemius, of Spandau (1462–1516) the idea of fabricating a ring which would give the wearer the power of becoming invisible at will. The Abbot asserts that he had made such a ring out of the material called electrum, a natural alloy of gold and silver, having the color of amber. To possess the requisite power, the ring must be cast at the hour at which the person designing to use it was born, and it should be inscribed with the word “Tetragrammaton” signifying the four letters composing the Ineffable Name. When this ring was placed upon the thumb of the left hand, the wearer immediately became invisible. Besides this virtue, when worn on any finger, the ring preserved the wearer from poison and betrayed the presence of enemies by changing color.[518]

Rings bearing the Latin inscription “Jesus autem transiens per medium illorum” (Jesus, however, passing through their midst),[519] were thought to confer invisibility upon the wearer. This inscription occurs on the hoop of a gold ring set with an uncut diamond, shown at the Special Exhibition at the South Kensington Museum, June, 1862.

This motto, “Jesus autem transiens,” etc., was in mediæval times regarded as a great charm against the dangers that menaced a traveller on his journeys. In his quaint old English, Sir John Mandeville says of this that these words were sometimes pronounced by “some men when thei dreden them of thefes on any way, or of enemyes, in token and mynde that our Lord passed through out of the Jews’ crueltie and scaped safely fro hem.” On the gold noble which Edward III had struck in commemoration of his victory in the naval battle of Helvoet Sluys in 1340, and of his escape from the perils he underwent therein, this motto appears as the legend.[520]

Lambeccius narrates that he once told Emperor Leopold I (1657–1675) of a magic gold ring, said to have been long preserved in the Austrian treasury, and whose special virtue was that it could be used as an oracle to foretell the results of an approaching battle. If victory was to crown the Austrian army, this ring would shine with an unwonted splendor. It was said to be made from the gold offered by the Magi to the Infant Jesus. While, however, sacred ceremonies were being performed before the Emperor Frederick, grandson of Rudolph I., just before his departure for a disastrous battle with Louis of Bavaria, the ring vanished from the eyes of man. Later, it was said to have been recovered and Lambeccius suggested that a ring he had recently observed in the treasury, bearing certain characters difficult of interpretation, might be the ring made from the offering of the Magi.[521] The omen of victory observable in this ring must have been suggested by what Josephus writes of the high-priest’s breastplate. According to his story “God announced victory in battle” by means of the twelve stones set in this breastplate, and he proceeds “such a splendour shone from them when the army was not yet in motion, that all the people knew God himself was present to aid them.”

A magic ring was made in the seventeenth century by a Florentine monk, named Nicolaus; this was designed to drive away gnats. It bore a charmed figure executed during the ascendency of the planet Saturn. The charm is said to have worked successfully. Since Saturn was usually regarded as a bearer of ill-luck, the operation of the magic figure must have depended upon sympathetic magic, the enlisting of the help of an evil power to combat a nature-plague.[522]

It is related that long ago in the Principality of Anhalt, a princess had the habit of going to the window after dinner and shaking out the crumbs from her napkin. Intention or chance induced a great toad to station itself under this window so as to eat up the precious crumbs. In due time the princess was wedded, and one night, shortly before the birth of a child, she saw a maid enter the room with a lighted candle in her hand. Approaching the bedside she handed a gold ring to the princess, telling her at the same time that it was sent by the toad, out of gratitude for the food she had given it, with the earnest warning to guard the ring carefully, as the fortunes of Anhalt were bound up with it. Moreover, every precaution was to be taken on Christmas Eve to guard against fire.[523] It is stated that this ring was still to be seen in Dessau in 1722, and that it was customary to put out all the fires in the palace on Christmas Eve, and to have watchmen patrol the building all through the night.[524]

A luminous ring is poetically described in Titus Andronicus, a play somewhat doubtfully attributed to Shakespeare who probably merely revised and embellished, in or about 1590, an original from some other hand. In any case, the lines referring to the luminous stone are highly expressive. After the murder of Bassianus, Martius searches in the depths of a dark pit for the dead body and suddenly cries out to his companion, Quintus, that he has discovered the bloody corpse. As the interior of the pit is pitch-dark, Quintus can scarcely believe what he hears, and asks Martius how the latter could possibly see what he has described. The answer is given in the following lines:

For the superstitious among certain Oriental peoples any injury to an amulet-ring was looked upon as a sure presage of coming misfortune. It is related of a Turk in the town of Jablanica, Bosnia, that having broken his amulet-ring, he started out forthwith on an arduous ten-hours’ journey to Mostar, the nearest place where his ring could be repaired, and he no doubt pursued his way in fear and trembling lest the threatened ill-fortune should befall him ere he reached the goldsmith who could mend his ring and thus restore its virtue.[525] In the National Hungarian Museum at Budapest is a silver ring set with a carnelian, on which are engraved Oriental characters. This was found, in 1812, in the garden of the royal palace at Budapest. Rings of a similar kind are often worn by Turks and Arabs, and are greatly valued as talismans, as they are believed to afford the wearers protection in battle, in the chase, and when indulging in dissipation.[526]

The ring with its smooth circle, having neither beginning nor end, is a fit symbol of eternity, and is often figured in this connection; and yet its material substance is transitory. This aspect is illustrated by the Eastern story that a wise man and favorite of a king once gave him a ring on which was the inscription: “Even this shall pass away.” In bestowing it upon the king, the sage said: “When in dire distress your soul is weighed down with trouble, look at this ring! When in the midst of festivities, joy and wild hilarity, look at this ring! Even this shall pass away.”[527]

In an illustrated work on ancient jades, in two quarto volumes, published in 1889 by the well-known scholar and statesman, Wu Ta-cheng (b. 1833), this writer conjectures that archer’s rings of white jade were reserved for the emperor’s use. At the present day rings of this type are made in Peking from the antler of a species of elk. The Catholic missionary, Father Zi, states that the rings most highly valued are those made out of jade of the Han period (Han yü), of a white gray with red veining and green stripes. Rings found in the graves of students who have passed the military examinations are of reddish hue, and the opinion prevails that they afford protection against malevolent spirits.[528]

In the symbolism of the ring, the complete circle is regarded by the Chinese as denoting the combination of all divine principles, as these are supposed to move in an everlasting and unbroken circle, having neither beginning nor end. An evil significance, however, attaches to an incomplete or half-ring, called küeh, a sound that means “to cut off, to slay; to pass sentence; to decide, to settle.” An early instance of the use of such a ring to signify banishment is related of the Prince Shên-shêng whose father sent him on a fatal military expedition in 659 B.C., at the instigation of one of his concubines. This ring, which was attached to a girdle, was equivalent to a formal decree that the prince was cast off and should never return. In consequence of the ambiguity of Chinese spoken and written words, a half-ring or at least one not describing a closed circle is said to have been worn at one time by Chinese scholars, because one of the meanings of the sound küeh is “to decide,” as has been noted above.[529] The Chinese writer Pan Ku (d. 92 A.D.) says that those who cultivated moral conduct without end, wore a complete ring suspended from the girdle, while those able to decide questions of aversion and doubt, wore half-rings, this being again a symbolic use of the double meaning of küeh.

As the Chinese word signifying “a jade-ring” has the same sound (huan) as the word meaning “to return, to repay,” and is expressed with the same phonetic symbol, the sending of such a ring by an emperor to an exiled official was a symbolic summons for the official to return. However, a jade-ring could also be a signal for besieging a city, since the syllable huan can mean “an enclosing wall.”[530] As an illustration, the word “ring,” a ring; and “ring,” imperative of “to ring,” might make the sending of a ring to a bell-ringer signify that he should let his bells peal forth.

Quite a number of finely-executed gold rings, with or without settings, as well as other pieces of jewelry, are made by Chinese goldsmiths in San Francisco. Silver is never used. Seal rings are occasionally made; the favorite setting is jade, next to which comes the opal; diamonds are also used for this purpose. No wedding rings are given, although the bestowal of a ring as a gift is highly appreciated. The prices range from $6 for a plain gold ring to from $20 to $200 for one of mandarin-style, set with a piece of jade. Sometimes short inscriptions are engraved on rings, such as “Long Life,” or “Beautiful.”[531] In the plate representing the interior of a Chinese jeweller’s shop in San Francisco, the proprietor of the place is shown seated in the background. None of the artisans, however, were willing to face the camera, either from superstitious dread of having their pictures taken, or perhaps through fear of being molested in some way by the Government.

When the nine gems of the great Hindu charm, the naoratna, are set in rings, the Burmese usage is to place the ruby in the centre, and group around it the eight other stones. Rings of this description were worn by Burmese kings and nobles as preventives of disease or danger. Sometimes an incantation is recited over these nine stones, which are then immersed in water, the belief being that whoever drinks of this water will secure immunity from all evil.[532]

In the masterpiece of Hindu dramatic literature, the Çakuntalâ of the poet Kâlidâsa, written about the sixth century of our era, a ring plays a most important part. The heroine, the daughter of the nymph Menakâ and the sage Viçvamitra, has had it foretold to her that the man who loves and marries her will entirely forget her, until his love and memory are revived by a ring. In due time she is beloved of the King Dushyanta, who marries her, but soon leaves her, to return to his court. When she follows him thither he fails to recognize her. Thereupon she remembers what had been predicted in regard to a ring, but finds to her dismay that the one the King gave her has been lost. In the next act of the play a fisherman is dragged in by guards who charge him with having in his possession the royal signet-ring and with having invented the tale that he found it inside a fish. The king, however, admits the truth of the story, rewards the fisherman, and gladly receives the ring. As soon as he places it on his finger he recognizes his bride and his love for her is renewed.[533]

The Khedive Tewfik Pasha related, about 1880, his experience with a certain Ahmed Agha, a Turk, who possessed a magic ring. It was a plain hoop of gold set with a red stone (probably a carnelian), and was said to have come from Mecca. The Turk claimed that by its help visions could be seen, and the Khedive consented to make a test of the ring’s virtue. Ahmed said that he required for the experiment the assistance of a child under ten years of age, whereupon the Khedive summoned a little girl from the harem to act as assistant, or we might rather say principal. The Turk attached to this girl’s head a silver plate on which a verse of the Koran was engraved, and placed in her hand the mystic ring with the red stone which, he declared, would change from red to white if the experiment was to be successful. A few moments after the preparation had been made, the girl cried out: “The stone has changed to white.” Hereupon the Khedive asked her to describe a number of persons she had never seen, and she invariably gave correct answers. Tewfik was so much impressed by the experiment that he exclaimed: “I can believe it, and yet I cannot understand it.” A few days later he sent word to the Turk that he wished to borrow the ring, but the man besought him not to take it away. An offer of £100 from a court noble was also refused. Finally, Ahmed was summoned to the court and the Khedive again urged him to surrender the ring, but when he repeated his prayers that it should not be taken from him the Khedive lost patience and said to him: “You are mistaken in thinking that I believe in the power of your ring or in things of that kind. I wish you good morning.” Poor Ahmed was only too glad to get off so easily and he left Cairo never to return there.[534]

In this case, as in many others, a change of color is asserted to take place in the stone, an indication that the mineral substance responds to some impression from without. It is as though part of the virtue of the stone had left it, for with a colored stone we might say, in a poetic sense, that its color is its life and soul. Hence in this particular instance the loss of color was probably thought to indicate that some in-dwelling spirit had passed from the stone to the little girl and dictated her responses; possibly if the ring were arranged with some mechanical or hollow space a colored foil could be pressed under the white stone, or a liquid passed under it, giving the delusion of the change from white to red and red to white.

In Scandinavia, carnelians were used as ring-stones in very early times; a fine specimen of such a ring was found in Ysted, in the province of Scania, and another at Verdalen, Norway. That these were credited with power as amulets seems highly probable, for some of the early Norse rings were so highly valued by their owners that they were designated by individual names. Thus we are told of a gold ring named Hnited, “The Welded,” which was given as a precious gift by Ulf the Red to King Olaf. This particular ring was welded together from seven pieces of exceptionally pure gold, the number of pieces evidently having a mystic significance.[535]

There is or was a superstition among the Swedish Lapps that at times, on the lonely moorlands, might be seen visionary herds of reindeer, packs of dogs, or even apparitions having the form of Laplanders. When one who sees any such objects goes in pursuit of them, they disappear before they can be reached; if, however, while they are still visible a steel or brass ring is thrown at them, they immediately become real living creatures. Popular legend even has to tell of men or women who in this way have secured wives or husbands, respectively, in reality changelings, trolls, apparently or really transformed into human beings.[536]

An onyx ring is made the cause of a series of wonderful transmigrations in an old-fashioned tale written about 1840 by John Sterling, of whom Thomas Carlyle has left us a most interesting biography.[537] In this story, the hero, a young barrister discouraged in his profession and disappointed in love, finds himself one night in an exceptionally depressed frame of mind. Opening, at chance, an old necromantic work, he is fascinated, perhaps hypnotized, by the vaguely mystic sentences, and is scarcely astonished to perceive, standing before him in his deserted room, what appears to be the figure of an aged man, who in the most-approved magician fashion offers him an onyx ring, engraved with the head of Apollonius of Tyana, and of such virtue that if he puts it on the forefinger of his right hand, he will be able to transfer himself into the body of any existing personage. His identification with the new personality will indeed be so complete, that his old existence will be entirely forgotten. This is to last for a week, at the expiration of which his memory will suddenly be revived for a short time, and he will have the choice to remain as he is, to change his fleshly tabernacle again, or to return to his own body. In the last-named case, however, his special power will be taken from him, and he must continue in his own form.

The offer is accepted and a series of transmigrations begins, in the course of which the hero becomes in turn a baronet, a farmer, a traveler, a divine, a poet, a political reformer and an old basket-maker. In this last avatar he is involuntarily forced to return to his own body, for the basket-maker dies before the week is up. The various characters through whose lives he passes belong to his immediate neighborhood, and the slight plot of the story can thus be carried forward without interruption. When at last the barrister comes to himself, he has just recovered from a long period of unconsciousness, and there is a little intentional uncertainty whether the vision and its consequences really took place, or were only the products of a fevered mind. Among the old basket-maker’s effects is found an onyx ring enclosed in an old box and engraved with a man’s head.

The greater part of the splendid precious stones in the collection of the English banker Henry Philip Hope were set in rings. One of the finest and most interesting of these gems was the beautiful sapphire often called “Le Saphire Merveilleux,” the title of a story written by Mme. de Genlis, who had seen the stone when it formed part of the collection of the Duke of Orleans. Its peculiar charm is that its color changes when seen by artificial light. In daylight it is a beautiful sapphire blue, but by candle light, or other yellow light it acquires an amethystine hue.[538] This fine sapphire, interesting both for its rare dichroism and its historic associations, was sold about 1898 for £700 ($3500). It weighs 19⅛ metric carats. Another attractive gem in the Hope Collection is a cabochon-cut amethyst, engraved in intaglio with the figure of a Bacchante carrying a thyrsus. At the back of the stone are two strata of different colors, one a whitish gray, the other showing brown spots on a velvet ground. This peculiarity has been skilfully utilized by the engraver, who has cut on the stone the form of a panther in relief.[539]

The so-called “Pennsylvania Dutch,” largely Germans from the southern parts of Germany, made, in the early days, rings out of horseshoe nails.[540] The good-luck supposed to be inherent in the horseshoe was probably believed to extend to the detachable nails also, so that these rings might have been looked upon as endowed with magic or talismanic virtue.

Lord Bacon (1561–1626) in his “Sylva Sylvarum,” published in 1626, suggests a curious test of telepathy. This is that two parties to an agreement or contract, should exchange rings, each wearing the other’s ring, and they are then to note whether, in case the contract or promise should be broken by one of the parties, the other would become sensible of this by means of an influence transmitted through the ring. He adds that it has been regarded as a help to the continuance of love to wear a ring or a bracelet of the loved one, but he believes that “this may proceed from exciting the magnetism, which, perhaps, a glove, or other like favour, might do as well.”

The peculiar inherent virtue of a ring given by, or exchanged with, a loved person, renders it far more prized than a merely beautiful or costly ring. While we may regard as superstition any fancy that the material ring possesses any magic quality, that lent to it by association or by memory is none the less real though it is only in the brain or heart of the wearer. The effect of this association of a ring or other jewel with a person is also to be seen in the case of rings bestowed by royal personages as tokens of gratitude or favor. In olden times they were often regarded as amulets and believed to transfer something of the power or genius of the bestower to the recipient. Indeed the qualities were conceived to have embodied themselves in the ornament, which was therefore handed down from generation to generation as a precious heritage, one sure to bring good fortune to the wearer. In the case of lovers the token served as a connecting link, transmitting and transfusing the love sentiment.[541]

Besides the zodiacal, or natal rings, there were also made in mediæval times a number of planetary rings, the metal supposed to be especially under the guardianship of the Sun, Moon or five planets known to the ancient world, being in each case chosen as the material for the ring of the special planet. These rings were frequently set with the precious stone assigned to the planet, and thus a series was obtained of seven rings, each of a different metal and set with a different stone. The sun-ring was of gold with diamond or sapphire; the silver moon-ring bore a rock crystal or a moonstone; the ring of Mars was of iron set with an emerald; for Mercury, the ring was of quicksilver and bore a piece of magnetic iron; Jupiter’s was of tin, the setting being a carnelian; copper was, of course, the material of the Venus-ring (cyprium, copper, being sacred to the Cyprian goddess), and the stone was an amethyst; lastly, the Saturnian ring was of lead and had for setting a turquoise.

Some of the appropriate rings and stones to be worn by those who hope to attract to themselves the favorable influences of Sun, Moon, and planets, are given in the Syro-Arabic work of the eighth or ninth century on the mystic potencies of stones, put forth under the name of Aristotle. For the Sun the stone is rock crystal, which must be set in a gold ring; Mercury’s influence is secured by wearing a piece of magnetite in an electrum setting, and for those wishing the help of the Moon, one of the varieties of onyx is recommended, silver being the metal in which it is to be set.[542]

For some reason or other zodiac rings, that is rings bearing zodiacal symbols, seem to be especially favored by the modern goldsmiths of the Portuguese island Madeira. Occasionally a ring of this type from earlier times may be seen there; one of these, of crude workmanship and much the worse for wear, has been attributed to the time of a twelfth-century duke of Burgundy, whose crusading expedition did not extend much beyond the frontiers of Portugal.[543] More than likely Moorish influence, or that of the Orient at least, was a determining factor, for the study of zodiacal influences was eagerly pursued in Spain in the thirteenth century and earlier, as is witnessed by the curious Lapidario of Alfonso X, the Wise, composed in the latter half of that century. The survivance of this style in Madeira depends quite probably upon one of those rather inexplicable chances that cause the production of a certain class of jewels or ornaments, when a curious or unusual example strikes some tourist’s fancy, and he shows it to friends at home; these in their turn will ask for it when they go to the same place, thus creating a demand and a local fashion. Rings of this kind are brought from Madeira by sailors and travelling jewellers, and are found at a number of places, including the west coast of Africa.

Many gold zodiac rings of a simple type are made on the Gold Coast and brought thence to Europe. The hoop is a flat band, on which the conventional symbols of the zodiacal signs are soldered, scroll borders also being applied in the same way.[544] While these rings are totally lacking in artistic quality, their production on the Gold Coast may indicate that long ago some better work of the class was done here, probably under Portuguese influence.

Rings holding truly “celestial stones,” gems from the heavens as they are called, are those in which have been set small, but perfectly cut chrysolites (peridots) from crystals found in meteorites. One of these was of the pallasite type, from Brenham, Kiowa County, Kansas[545] and gems were also cut out of chrysolite from the meteorite of Glorietta Mountain, Santa Fé County, New Mexico.[546]

A most attractive kind of natal ring is that having the birth stone in the centre between the stones of the guardian angel and of the apostle of the month. While this particular arrangement of the settings is followed in the greater number of cases, it sometimes happens that a better artistic effect is obtained, a better harmony of color, by making either the stone of the angel or that of the apostle the central gem. The essential thing is that the three particular stones assigned to the given month shall be grouped together. The following table renders it easy to find the proper combination for each month, or each zodiacal sign:

If, like Apollonius of Tyana,[547] anyone should wish to wear on each week day a ring set with the stones especially appropriate to the day, the following list gives for the successive days the pair of stones whose combination was believed to unite the most favorable planetary and celestial influences:

The use of fraternity rings is often connected with a certain amount of sentiment or even superstition concerning their emblematic value. The most important of this type of rings are those worn by the Free Masons.

The greater number of Masonic rings are intended for those Masons who have attained the two highest degrees, the thirty-second and the thirty-third; some, however, are appropriate to those of the lower degrees. The bezels of the Blue Lodge, or Master Mason rings, frequently have the square compasses and the latter G in gold on a background of blue enamel; occasionally emblems and paraphernalia used in the Lodge are enamelled in blue on the gold hoops of the ring. Sometimes, instead of enamel, the background is formed of sapphire, bloodstone, or some other stone on which the emblems are encrusted in gold. An example of the ring of a Past Master bears a raised gold sun-face. In a ring for the Chapter of Royal Arch Masons, the keystone is usually enameled white with a black circle and white centre. Shrine Rings are distinctly Oriental in type, the prevailing design showing a simitar passed between the horns of a crescent moon. In rings of the Knights Templar the design is usually a cross passed through a crown, with the motto of Constantine the Great: In hoc Signo vinces. The cross will be of black enamel (occasionally of red enamel) and the crown is gold. A special ring for this order has a Blue Lodge emblem on one shoulder and the Chapter emblem on the other, and is arranged for a diamond to be set in the centre of the bezel. On a fourteenth degree ring (Lodge of Perfection) appears the initial Hebrew letter (yod) of the Tetragrammaton, or Ineffable Name, now approximately sounded Yahweh. Sometimes the symbols of more than one degree appear on the ring, one example bearing those of the fourteenth, sixteenth, eighteenth, thirtieth and thirty-second; this is one of the Consistory rings, as those for thirty-second degree Masons are denominated. These usually have the double eagle on the bezel.

The variety of types of fraternity rings is manifold, most of the orders having a half-dozen or more different ring-designs, although certain distinctive elements run through all, as with the wide-spread Benevolent Protective Order of Elks, for instance, on whose rings the elk-head is always conspicuously present. For rings of the Knights of Columbus, the anvil, sword and battleaxe are never-failing marks. The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, a labor organization of the highest type, has for its device a locomotive running on a railway track, with a telegraph pole at one side. The Loyal Order of Moose has the head of the patron animal, less graceful than the elk, but better suggesting the aggressive quality of this order. A considerable variety of designs are represented among the rings worn by the Knights of Pythias; in most cases a helmet and battleaxes are combined with a shield. Last, but not least, the Independent Order of Odd Fellows has many rings rich in symbols, the all-seeing eye, the open hand with a heart in it, a death’s-head and cross-bones, and everywhere, the three interlinked rings characteristic of the order. These are only a few of the innumerable ingenious designs that American factories have produced to satisfy an overwhelming demand for fraternity rings. For the leading schools also, many special rings have been executed to be used as prizes, or else to meet the wants of school fraternities or sororities. Of course, the numerous college fraternities also frequently use specially designed rings as distinguishing emblems.

The immense number of rings that must have been produced for members of the largest societies becomes apparent when we consider that the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, whose English foundation dates back to about 1745, now has a membership of over 1,500,000, in the United States and more than 160,000 in other countries. To this must be added the membership of the Daughters of Rebekah, a coördinate body of women numbering about 700,000. Another society, the Knights of Pythias, though of comparatively recent organization, having been founded in Washington, D. C., in 1864, has over 700,000 members in the United States and Canada. This order has a branch exclusively for the colored race, denominated the Knights of Pythias of North and South America, Europe, Asia and Africa; its members number 50,000. The Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks counts 410,000 members in 1309 lodges and the Knights of Columbus, a fraternal and benevolent society founded in New Haven in 1882, had, on July 1, 1914, 326,858 members.

The membership of the Greek-letter fraternities of the universities and colleges in the United States is enormous. In 1914 there were 38 leading fraternities distributed in 1228 active chapters and counting 2,656,817 members, with 979 fraternity houses. The oldest Greek-letter society, Phi Beta Kappa, was organized at William and Mary College, Virginia, in 1776; Kappa Alpha was founded at Union College, in 1827, this being the first fraternity to be organized according to the system at present prevailing. The first sorority was Kappa Alpha Theta, established at De Pauw in 1870. The sororities now have about 50,000 members in 395 chapters.

A gem representing one of the States is often set in a talismanic ring. The following is a list of the stones of the various States in the United States,—a precious or semi-precious stone having been found in every State: