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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences | 1,139.641164 |
2023-11-16 18:36:03.6234890 | 1,323 | 10 |
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file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
THE SOUL STEALER
BY C. RANGER-GULL
Author of "The Serf," "The Harvest of Love," "The Price of Pity,"
"A Story of the Stage," etc., etc.
LONDON
F. V. WHITE & Co., Limited
14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1906
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED
BREAD STREET HILL, E.C., AND
BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. MR. EUSTACE CHARLIEWOOD, MAN ABOUT TOWN 1
II. UNEXPECTED ENTRANCE OF TWO LADIES 19
III. NEWS OF A REVOLUTION 31
IV. THE SECOND LOVER ARRIVES 50
V. A CONSPIRACY OF SCIENTISTS 60
VI. "WILL YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?" 70
VII. ENGLAND'S GREAT SENSATION 89
VIII. THE CHIVALROUS BARONET 100
IX. GRATITUDE OF MISS MARJORIE POOLE 109
X. A MAN ABOUT TOWN PAYS A DEBT 120
XI. BEEF TEA AND A PHOSPHATE SOLUTION 130
XII. THE TOMB-BOUND MAN 150
XIII. LORD MALVIN 160
XIV. DONALD MEGBIE SEES POSSIBILITIES 171
XV. HAIL TO THE LOVERS! 190
XVI. STRANGE OCCURRENCE IN THE TEMPLE 201
XVII. MARJORIE AND DONALD MEGBIE 211
XVIII. PLANS 222
XIX. A DEATH-WARRANT IS PRESENTED TO A PRISONER 230
XX. THOUGHTS OF ONE IN DURANCE 248
XXI. HOW THEY ALL WENT TO THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK 258
XXII. THE DOOM BEGINS 264
XXIII. THE DOOM CONTINUES 280
XXIV. MR. WILSON GUEST MAKES A MISTAKE 286
XXV. AT LAST! 292
XXVI. TWO FINAL PICTURES 305
THE SOUL STEALER
CHAPTER I
MR. EUSTACE CHARLIEWOOD, MAN ABOUT TOWN
Upon a brilliant morning in the height of the winter, Mr. Eustace
Charliewood walked slowly up Bond Street.
The sun was shining brightly, and there was a keen, invigorating snap in
the air which sent the well-dressed people who were beginning to throng
the pavements, walking briskly and cheerily.
The great shops of one of the richest thoroughfares in the world were
brilliant with luxuries, the tall commissionaires who stood by the heavy
glass doors were continually opening them for the entrance of
fashionable women.
It was, in short, a typical winter's morning in Bond Street when
everything seemed gay, sumptuous and debonair.
Mr. Eustace Charliewood was greeted several times by various friends as
he walked slowly up the street. But his manner in reply was rather
languid, and his clean-shaven cheeks lacked the colour that the eager
air had given to most of the pedestrians.
He was a tall, well-built man, with light close-cropped hair and a large
intelligent face. His eyes were light blue in colour, not very direct in
expression, and were beginning to be surrounded by the fine wrinkles
that middle age and a life of pleasure imprint. The nose was aquiline,
the mouth clean cut and rather full.
In age one would have put Mr. Charliewood down as four and forty, in
status a man accustomed to move in good society, though probably more
frequently the society of the club than that of the drawing-room.
When he was nearly at the mouth of New Bond Street, Mr. Charliewood
stopped at a small and expensive-looking hairdresser's and perfumer's,
passed through its revolving glass doors and bowed to a stately young
lady with wonderfully-arranged coils of shining hair, who sat behind a
little glass counter covered with cut-glass bottles of scent and ivory
manicure sets.
"Good-morning, Miss Carling," he said easily and in a pleasant voice.
"Is Proctor disengaged?"
"Yes, Mr. Charliewood," the girl answered, "he's quite ready for you if
you'll go up-stairs."
"Quite well, my dear?" Mr. Charliewood said, with his hand upon the door
which led inwards to the toilette saloons.
"Perfectly, thank you, Mr. Charliewood. But you're looking a little
seedy this morning."
He made a gesture with his glove which he had just taken off.
"Ah well," he said, "very late last night, Miss Carling. It's the price
one has to pay, you know! But Proctor will soon put me right."
"Hope so, I'm sure," she answered, wagging a slim finger at him. "Oh,
you men about town!"
He smiled back at her, entered the saloon and mounted some thickly
carpeted stairs upon the left.
At the top of the stairs a glass door opened into a little ante-room,
furnished with a few arm-chairs and small tables on which _Punch_ and
other journals were lying. Beyond, another door stood half open, and at
the noise of Mr. Charliewood's entrance a short, clean-shaved,
Jewish-looking man came through it and began to help the visitor out of
his | 1,139.643529 |
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A TRUE ACCOUNT
OF THE
VOYAGE
OF THE
_Nottingham-Galley_ of _London_,
_John Dean_ Commander,
FROM THE
River _Thames_ to _New-England_,
Near which Place she was cast away on
_Boon-Island_, December 11, 1710. by the
Captain's Obstinacy, who endeavour'd
to betray her to the _French_, or run her
ashore; with an Account of the Falsehoods
in the Captain's _Narrative_.
And a faithful Relation of the Extremities the
Company was reduc'd to for Twenty-four
Days on that desolate Rock, where they
were forc'd to eat one of their Companions
who died, but were at last wonderfully
deliver'd.
The whole attested upon Oath, by
_Christopher Langman_, Mate;
_Nicholas Mellen_, Boatswain; and
_George White_, Sailor in the said Ship.
_LONDON_: Printed for _S. Popping_ at the _Raven_ in
_Pater-noster-Row_, 1711. (Price Six Pence.)
THE
PREFACE.
_We having been Sufferers in this unfortunate Voyage, had reason to
believe, from the Temper of our Captain, who treated us barbarously
both by Sea and Land, that he would misrepresent the Matter, as we now
find he has done in a late Pamphlet by him publish'd, intituled_, A
Narrative of the Sufferings, Preservation, and Deliverance of Captain
_John Dean_, and Company, in the _Nottingham_ Galley of _London_,
&c. London, _Printed by_ R. Tooky, _and Sold by_ S. Popping _at the_
Raven _in_ Pater-noster-Row, _and at the_ Printing Press _under the_
Royal-Exchange.
_Our | 1,139.643615 |
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[Illustration: Elsin Grey.]
_The_
RECKONING
BY
ROBERT W. CHAMBERS
AUTHOR OF "CARDIGAN," "THE MAID-AT-ARMS," "THE KING IN YELLOW," ETC.
NEW YORK
A. WESSELS COMPANY
1907
Copyright, 1905, by
ROBERT W. CHAMBERS
_Published September, 1905_
PRESS OF
BRAUNWORTH & CO.
BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
BROOKLYN, N.Y.
PREFACE
The author's intention is to treat, in a series of four or five
romances, that part of the war for independence which particularly
affected the great landed families of northern New York: the Johnsons,
represented by Sir William, Sir John, Guy Johnson, and Colonel Claus;
the notorious Butlers, father and son; the Schuylers, Van Rensselaers,
and others.
The first romance of the series, Cardigan, was followed by the second,
The Maid-at-Arms. The third in order is not completed. The fourth is the
present volume.
As Cardigan pretended to portray life on the baronial estate of Sir
William Johnson, the first uneasiness concerning the coming trouble, the
first discordant note struck in the harmonious councils of the Long
House, so, in The Maid-at-Arms, which followed in order, the author
attempted to paint a patroon family disturbed by the approaching rumble
of battle. That romance dealt with the first serious split in the
Iroquois Confederacy; it showed the Long House shattered though not
fallen; the demoralization and final flight of the great landed families
who remained loyal to the British Crown; and it struck the key-note to
the future attitude of the Iroquois toward the patriots of the
frontier--revenge for their losses at the battle of Oriskany--and ended
with the march of the militia and Continental troops on Saratoga.
The third romance, as yet incomplete and unpublished, deals with the
war-path and those who followed it, led by the landed gentry of Tryon | 1,139.739649 |
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[Illustration: "And sing to the praise of the Doll"]
_CHILDREN'S CRIMSON SERIES_
PINAFORE PALACE
BY
KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN
AND
NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH
GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1907, by The McClure Company_
* * * * *
PREFACE
TO THE MOTHER
_"A Court as of angels,
A public not to be bribed,
Not to be entreated,
Not to be overawed."_
_Such is the audience--in long clothes or short frocks, in pinafores
or kilts, or in the brief trousers that bespeak the budding man--such
is the crowing, laughing court, the toddling public that awaits these
verses._
_Every home, large or small, poor or rich, that has a child in it, is
a Pinafore Palace, and we have borrowed the phrase from one of
childhood's most whimsical and devoted poets-laureate, thinking no
other words would so well express our meaning._
_If the two main divisions of the book--"The Royal Baby" and "Little
Prince and Princess"--should seem to you a trifle sentimental it will
be because you forget for the moment the gayety and humor of the
title with its delightful assumptions of regal dignity and state.
Granted the Palace itself, everything else falls easily into line, and
if you cannot readily concede the royal birth and bearing of your
neighbor's child you will see nothing strange in thinking of your own
nursling as little prince or princess, and so you will be able to
accept gracefully the sobriquet of Queen Mother, which is yours by the
same invincible logic!_
_Oh, yes, we allow that instead of being gravely editorial in our
attitude, we have played with the title, as well as with all the
sub-titles and classifications, feeling that it was the next
pleasantest thing to playing with the babies themselves. It was so
delightful to re-read the well-loved rhymes of our own childhood and
try to find others worthy to put beside them; so delicious to imagine
the hundreds of young mothers who would meet their old favorites in
these particular pages; and so inspiring to think of the thousands of
new babies whose first hearing of nursery classics would be associated
with this red-covered volume, that we found ourselves in a joyous mood
which we hope will be contagious. Nothing is surer than that a certain
gayety of heart and mind constitute the most wholesome climate for
young children. "The baby whose mother has not charmed him in his
cradle with rhyme and song has no enchanting dreams; he is not gay and
he will never be a great musician," so runs the old Swiss saying._
_Youthful mothers, beautifully and properly serious about their
strange new duties and responsibilities, need not fear that Mother
Goose is anything but healthful nonsense. She holds a place all her
own, and the years that have rolled over her head (some of the rhymes
going back to the sixteenth century) only give her a firmer footing
among the immortals. There are no real substitutes for her unique
rhymes, neither can they be added to nor imitated; for the world
nowadays is seemingly too sophisticated to frame just this sort of
merry, light-hearted, irresponsible verse which has mellowed with the
years. "These ancient rhymes," says Andrew Lang, "are smooth stones
from the brook of time, worn round by constant friction of tongues
long silent."_
_Nor is your use of this "light literature of the infant scholar" in
the nursery without purpose or value. You are developing ear, mind,
and heart, and laying a foundation for a later love of the best things
in poetry. Whatever else we may do or leave undone, if we wish to
widen the spiritual horizon of our children let us not close the
windows on the emotional and imaginative sides. "There is in every one
of us a poet whom the man has outlived." Do not let the poetic
instinct die of inanition; keep it alive in the child by feeding his
youthful ardor, strengthening his insight, guarding the sensitiveness
and delicacy of his early impressions, and cherishing the fancies that
are indeed "the trailing clouds of glory" he brings with him "from God
who is his home."_
_The rhythm of verse will charm his senses even in his baby days;
later on he will feel the beauty of some exquisite lyric phrase as
keenly as you do, for the ear will have been opened and will be
satisfied only with what is finest and best._
_The second division of the book "Little Prince and Princess" will
take the children out of the nursery into the garden, the farmyard,
and the world outside the Palace, where they will meet and play with
their fellows in an ever-widening circle of social activity. "Baby's
Hush-a-byes" in cradle or mother's lap will now give place to the
quiet cribside talks called "The Palace Bed Time" and "The Queen
Mother's Counsel"; and in the story hour "The Palace Jest-Book" will
furnish merriment for the youngsters who laughed the year before over
the simpler nonsense of Mother Goose._
_When the pinafores themselves are cast aside Pinafore Palace will be
outgrown, and you can find something better suited to the developing
requirements of the nursery folk in "The Posy Ring." Then the third
volume in our series--"Golden Numbers"--will give boys and girls from
ten to fifteen a taste of all the best and soundest poetry suitable to
their age, and after that they may enter on their full birthright,
"the rich deposit of the centuries."_
_No greater love for a task nor happiness in doing it, no more ardent
wish to please a child or meet a mother's need, ever went into a book
than have been wrought into this volume and its three predecessors. We
hope that it will find its way into the nurseries where wealth has
provided every means of ministering to the young child's growth in
body, mind, and soul; and if some of the Pinafore Pal | 1,139.779086 |
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WHERE TO MARKET.
When difficulty is experienced in procuring any of the articles mentioned in
this book, the name of the nearest Agent can be obtained by sending a post
card to the Maker. The following stock a selection of these goods:--
EDINBURGH, HEALTH FOODS DEPOT, 40 Hanover St. _Health Foods and
Specialties, including all "Wallace" Goods._
RICHARDS & Co., 73 N. Hanover Street.
GLASGOW, THE HEALTH FOOD SUPPLY Co., 363 New City Rd., 73 Dundas St.,
& 430 Argyle St. _Wholesale, Retail, and Export Manufacturers and Dealers
in every description of Vegetarian Health Foods._
THE "ARCADIAN" FOOD REFORM RESTAURANT AND HEALTH FOOD STORES, 132 St.
Vincent Street.
CRANSTON'S TEA ROOMS, Ltd., 28 Buchanan Street and 43 Argyll Arcade.
ABERDEEN, JOHN WATT, 209 Union Street.
DUNDEE, J.P. CLEMENT & CO., 256-258 Hilltown.
J.F. CROAL, Crichton Street.
PEEBLES BROTHERS, Whitehall Crescent.
THOMAS ROGER & SON, Newport-on-Tay.
GREENOCK, CLYDESIDE FOOD STORES, 13-15 Charles St. With Branches at
Helensburgh, Dunoon, Rothesay, Largs, and at 35 Causeyside, Paisley.
BIRMINGHAM, PITMAN STORES, 121-131 Aston Brook St.
R. WINTER, City Arcades and New Street.
BRISTOL, HEALTH FOOD STORES, St James', Barton.
LEEDS, "HEALTH" STORES, 124 Albion Street.
HEALTH FOOD STORES, 48 Woodhouse Lane.
MANCHESTER, VEGETARIAN STORES, 257 Deansgate.
MAPLETON'S NUT FOOD CO., Ltd., Paget Street, Rochdale Road.
WARDLE (LANCS.) MAPLETON'S NUT FOOD CO., Ltd. Pioneers and Inventors
of Nut Cream Butters. List of 150 varieties of Nut Goods on application.
LIVERPOOL, CHAPMAN'S HEALTH FOODS DEPOT, Eberle Street.
LONDON, THE WALLACE BAKERY, 465 Battersea Park Road, S.W.
* * * * * *
THE HEALTH FOOD SUPPLY CO.,
GLASGOW.
_THE FIRST IN THE FIELD_
We manufactured Health Foods eight Years Ago in London, and
to-day are the Largest Dealers in and Manufacturers of Vegetarian
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Our VEGETABLE MEATS are the Original, and are unequalled in quality
or prices.
Our "ARTOX" BREAD and BISCUITS are our Leading Lines in Baking.
Call or write for our Free Booklet List on Healthful Vegetarianism at
our City Depot, 73 DUNDAS STREET,
OR
WEST END STORES, 363 New City Road, GLASGOW
* * * * * *
HOVIS
A Health Bread.
[Illustration]
SOME FACTS,
HOVIS Strengthens: Contains 11.13% Proteid.
HOVIS Promotes Energy: Contains 42.34% Carbohydrates, and 2.11% Fat.
HOVIS Builds Bones: Contains 1.62% mineral matter.
HOVIS is Pure: Contains no adulterants.
HOVIS is Digestive: Contains Cerealin, a valuable digestive ferment.
HOVIS is Pleasant: The large proportion of germ renders it sweet and
nutty.
HOVIS is Uric-Acid-Free: Thus Best Brown Bread for Gouty Subjects.
Dr Gordon Stables says, in "Fresh Air Treatment for
Consumption"--"The bread I use is Hovis; I am enthusiastic on it."
FOR HOME USE.
Hovis Flour can be obtained from most bakers. It makes delicious
Scones, Pastry, Puddings, and gem Pan Rolls.
[Illustration]
ALL PARTICULARS FROM
The Hovis Bread Flour Co.,
MACCLESFIELD.
See Recipes on pages 105, 108, 109.
* * * * * *
_Entered at Stationers' Hall._
REFORM COOKERY.
* * * * * *
WHY HESITATE?
Thousands of grateful consumers by their daily use of Vejola, F.R. Nut.
Meat, Meatose, Nutmeatose, and Nutvejo, &c., endorse the verdict
of the best judges that there are no other Nut Meats equal to them for
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Sample of any one of these sent for 8d., post free.
TRY A TIN TODAY.
Idealists will also find an ideal food in Nut Cream Rolls and
Biscuits. They are made from choice nuts converted into a rich cream,
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THEN YOU WILL ACT
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Also get samples of the L. N. F. Co.'s Nut and Fruit Cakes, Genoa Cakes,
Malted Nut and Fruit Caramels, Chocolate Nut and Fruit Dainties, and our
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AND ASK FOR MORE.
Samples of above five last-named foods sent for 2/6 post Free.
SOLE MANUFACTURERS:
The London Nut Food Co.,
465, Battersea Park Road, London, S.W.
* * * * * *
REFORM COOKERY BOOK.
UP-TO-DATE HEALTH COOKERY FOR THE TWENTIETH CENTURY.
BY
Mrs MILL.
OVER 300 RECIPES
NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION, COMPLETING 20,000.
_"We could live without poets, we could live without books,
But how in the world could we live without cooks."_
PREFACE TO FOURTH EDITION.
Still the Food Reform movement goes on and expresses itself in many ways.
New developments and enterprises on the part of those engaged in the
manufacture and distribution of pure foods are in evidence in all
directions. Not only have a number of new "Reform" restaurants and depots
been opened, but vegetarian dishes are now provided at many ordinary
restaurants, while the general grocer is usually willing to stock the more
important health foods.
Then the interest in, and relish for a non-flesh dietary has, during the
past year, got a tremendous impetus from the splendid catering at the
Exhibitions, both of Edinburgh and London. The restaurant in Edinburgh,
under the auspices of the Vegetarian Society, gave a magnificent object
lesson in the possibility of a dietary excluding fish, flesh, and fowl. The
sixpenny dinners, as also the plain and "high" teas, were truly a marvel of
excellence, daintiness, and economy, and the queue of the patient "waiters,"
sometimes 40 yards long, amply testified to their popularity.
One is glad also to see that "Health Foods" manufacturers are, one after
another, putting into practice the principle that sound health-giving
conditions are a prime essential in the production of what is pure and
wholesome, and in removing from the grimy, congested city areas to the
clean, fresh, vitalising atmosphere of the country, not only the consumers
of these goods, but those who labour to produce them, derive real benefit.
The example of Messrs Mapleton in exchanging Manchester for Wardle, has been
closely followed up by the International Health Association, who have
removed from Birmingham to Watford, Herts.
J. O. M.
NEWPORT-ON-TAY, _April 1909._
"Economy is not Having, but wisely spending." _Ruskin._
"I for my part can affirm that those whom I have known to submit to this
(the vegetarian) regimen have found its results to be restored or improved
health, marked addition of strength, and the acquisition by the mind of a
clearness, brightness, well-being, such as might follow the release from
some secular, loathsome detestable dungeon.... All our justice, morality,
and all our thoughts and feelings, derive from three or four primordial
necessities, whereof the principal one is food. The least modification of
one of these necessities would entail | 1,139.782864 |
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
Errors, when reasonably attributable to the printer, have been
corrected. Please see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for
details. Corrections made to the text are summarized there.
French passages did not include diacritical marks (with a single
appearance of ‘ç’ on p. 54), and are presented here as printed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: C. CHINIQUY]
FIFTY YEARS
IN THE
CHURCH OF ROME.
BY
FATHER CHINIQUY,
THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE OF CANADA.
AUTHOR OF “THE MANUAL OF TEMPERANCE,” “THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, AND THE
CONFESSIONAL,”
“PAPAL IDOLATRY,” “ROME AND EDUCATION,” ETC.
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY,
NEW YORK. CHICAGO. TORONTO.
_Publishers of Evangelical Literature._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
COPYRIGHT,
1886,
BY REV. CHARLES CHINIQUY, ST. ANNE, KANKAKEE CO., ILL.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DEDICATION.
TO COLONEL EDWIN A. SHERMAN.
Allow me to mention your name the first among the many to whom I
dedicate this book.
I owe this to you as a token of gratitude for your help in my researches
after the true murderers of our martyred President Abraham Lincoln.
I found you as wise and honorable in your counsels as our country found
you brave on the battlefields of Liberty.
TO THE ORANGEMEN OF THE UNITED STATES, CANADA,
GREAT BRITAIN, AUSTRALIA, TASMANIA
AND NEW ZEALAND,[A]
this book is also dedicated by the humblest of their brethren.
Orangemen! Read this book: you will not only understand Romanism as you
never did, but you will find many new reasons to be, more than ever,
vigilant, fearless and devoted, even to death, in the discharge of the
sacred duties imposed upon you by your love for your country, your
brethren and your God.
-----
Footnote A:
L. O. A. B. A. BOYNE L. O. L. No. 401.
Montreal, 20th Sept., 1878.
This is to Certify that Bro. C. Chiniquy was duly initiated into Boyne
L. O. L. No. 401, and is a member in good standing, and we do
therefore request all Brethren to receive him as such, whereof witness
our hand and seal hereto affixed.
MASTER No. 401.
JOHN HAMILTON, Secretary.
-----
TO THE HONEST AND LIBERTY-LOVING PEOPLE OF THE
UNITED STATES,
I also dedicate this book.
Americans! You are sleeping on a volcano, and you do not suspect it! You
are pressing on your bosom a viper which will bite you to death, and you
do not know it.
Read this book, and you will see that Rome is the sworn, the most
implacable, the absolutely irreconcilable and deadly enemy of your
schools, your institutions, your so dearly bought rights and liberties.
Read this book, and you will not only understand that it is to Rome you
owe the rivers of blood and the unspeakable horrors of the last civil
war: but you will learn that Romanism and Liberty can not live on the
same ground. This has been declared by the Popes, hundreds of times.
Read this book: And you will not only see that Abraham Lincoln was
murdered by Rome, but you will learn that Romanism, under the mask of
religion, is nothing but a permanent political conspiracy against all
the most sacred rights of man and the most holy laws of God.
In those pages you will not learn to hate the Roman Catholics. No! But
you will learn to be more than ever watchful in guarding the precious
treasures of Freedom bestowed upon you by your fathers. You will learn
never to let them fall into the hands of those who, with the sacred name
of Liberty on their lips, and the mask of Liberty on their faces, are
sworn to destroy all Liberty.
TO ALL THE FAITHFUL MINISTERS OF THE GOSPEL,
I also, dedicate this book.
Venerable Ministers of the Gospel! Rome is the great danger ahead for
the Church of Christ, and you do not understand it enough.
The atmosphere of light, honesty, truth and holiness in which you are
born, and which you have breathed since your infancy, makes it almost
impossible for you to realize the dark mysteries of idolatry,
immorality, degrading slavery, hatred of the Word of God, concealed
behind the walls of that modern Babylon. You are too honest to suspect
them; and your precious time is too much taken up by the sacred duties
of your ministry, to study the long labyrinth of argumentations which
form the bulk of the greater number of controversial books. Besides
that, the majority of the books of controversy against Rome are of such
a dry character that, though many begin to read them, very few have the
courage to go to the end. The consequence is an ignorance of Romanism
which becomes more and more deplorable and fatal, every day.
It is ignorance which paves the way to the triumph of Rome, in a near
future, if there is not a complete change in your views, on that
subject.
It is that ignorance which paralyzes the arm of the Church of Christ,
and makes the glorious word “Protestant” senseless, almost a dead and
ridiculous word. For who does really protest against Rome, to-day? where
are those who sound the trumpet of alarm?
When Rome is striking you to the heart by cursing your schools and
wrenching the Bible from the hands of your children; when she is not
only battering your doors, but scaling your walls and storming your
citadels, how few dare go to the breach and repulse the audacious and
sacrilegious foe?
Why so? Because modern Protestants have not only forgotten what Rome
was, what she is, and what she will forever be: the most irreconcilable
and powerful enemy of the Gospel of Christ; but they consider her almost
a branch of the church whose corner-stone is Christ.
Faithful ministers of the Gospel! I present you this book that you may
know that the monster Church of Rome, who shed the blood of your
forefathers, is still at work, to-day, at your very door, to enchain
your people to the feet of her idols. Read it, and for the first time,
you will see the inside life of Popery with the exactness of
Photography. From the supreme art with which the mind of the young and
timid child is fettered, enchained and paralyzed, to the unspeakable
degradation of the priest under the iron heel of the bishop, everything
will be revealed to you as it has never been before.
The superstitions, the ridiculous and humiliating practices, the secret
and mental agonies of the monks, the nuns and the priests, will be shown
to you as they were never shown before. In this book, the sophisms and
errors of Romanism are discussed and refuted with a clearness,
simplicity and evidence which my twenty-five years of priesthood only
could teach me. It is not in boasting that I say this. There can be no
boasting in me for having been so many years an abject slave of the
Pope. The book I offer you is an arsenal filled with the best weapons
you ever had to fight, and, with the help of God, conquer the foe.
The learned and zealous champion of Protestantism in Great Britain Rev.
D. Badenoch, who has revised the manuscript, wrote to a friend: “I do
not think there is a Protestant work more thrilling in interest and more
important at the present time. It is not only full of incidents, but
also of arguments, on the side of truth with all classes of Romanists,
from the bishops to the parish priests. I know of no work which gives so
graphically the springs of Roman Catholic life, and at the same time,
meets the plausible objections to Protestantism in Roman Catholic
circles. I wish with all my heart that this work would be published in
Great Britain.”
The venerable, learned and so well known Rev. Dr. Kemp, Principal of the
Young Ladies’ College of Ottawa, Canada, only a few days before his
premature death, wrote: “Mr. Chinqiuy has submitted every chapter of his
‘Fifty Years in the Church of Rome’ to me: I have read it with care and
with the deepest interest; and I commend it to the public favor in the
highest terms. It is the only book I know that gives anything like a
full and authentic account of the inner workings of Popery on this
continent, and so effectively unmasks its pretence to sanctity. Besides
the most interesting biographical incidents, it contains incisive
refutations of the most plausible assumptions and deadly errors of the
Romish Church. It is well fitted to awaken Protestants to the insidious
designs of the arch-enemy of their faith and liberties, and to arouse
them to a decisive opposition. It is written in a kindly and Christian
spirit, does not indulge in denunciations, and, while speaking in truth,
it does so in love. Its style is lively and its English good, with only
a delicate flavor of the author’s native French.”
TO THE BISHOPS, PRIESTS AND PEOPLE OF ROME,
this book is also dedicated.
In the name of your immortal souls, I ask you, Roman Catholics, to read
this book.
By the mercy of God, you will find, in its pages, how you are cruelly
deceived by your vain and lying traditions.
You will see that it is not through your ceremonies, masses,
confessions, purgatory, indulgences, fastings, etc., you are saved. You
have nothing to do but to believe, repent and love.
Salvation is a gift! Eternal life is a gift! Forgiveness of sin is a
gift! Christ is a gift!
Read this book, presented by the most devoted of your friends, and, by
the mercy of God, you will see the errors of your ways—you will look to
the GIFT—you will accept it—and in its possession you will feel rich and
happy for time and eternity.
SPECIAL NOTICE
TO NEW EDITION.
------------------
Since the publication of the second edition of “Fifty Years in the
Church of Rome,” the incendiary torch of the foe has twice reduced into
ashes the electrotype plates, with many volumes already printed, and
about to be delivered to subscribers.
Though those two disasters have completely ruined me financially, they
have not discouraged me, for my trust was in God, and in Him alone.
Relying on His divine and paternal protection, I offer this New Edition
to my brethren, with the prayerful hope that the Good Master will bless
it for His glory, and the good of His elect, wherever it may go.
I have no words to sufficiently bless the friends who have extended to
me a helping hand to raise the book from its fiery grave; and I cannot
sufficiently thank the Press, both religious and secular, of Europe and
America, for the kind appreciation given, almost everywhere, to my
humble labor.
May this book, with the help of God, be the means of giving liberty to
those who are held in the bondage of ignorance, superstition and
idolatry, is the sincere desire of their friend,
C. CHINIQUY.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
FRONTISPIECE–FATHER CHINIQUY,
” ” ” IN PRIEST’S
ROBES,
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE, 54
GRAND DINNER OF THE PRIESTS, 205
CARDINAL NEWMAN, 405
FALL OF THE “HOLY FATHERS,” 436
LEO XIII., PRESENT POPE, 676
ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 693
CONTENTS.
Page.
TITLE 1
DEDICATION 3-7
PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION 8
CHAPTER I.
The Bible and the Priest of Rome 9-13
CHAPTER II.
My first school-days at St. Thomas—The Monk and 14-21
Celibacy
CHAPTER III.
The Confession of Children 22-30
CHAPTER IV.
The Shepherd whipped by his Sheep 31-40
CHAPTER V.
The Priest, Purgatory, and the poor Widow’s Cow 41-48
CHAPTER VI.
Festivities in a Parsonage 49-56
CHAPTER VII.
Preparation for the First Communion—Initiation to 57-60
Idolatry
CHAPTER VIII.
The First Communion 61-65
CHAPTER IX.
Intellectual Education in the Roman Catholic 66-74
College
CHAPTER X.
Moral and Religious Instruction in the Roman 75-85
Catholic Colleges
CHAPTER XI.
Protestant Children in the Convents and Nunneries 86-93
of Rome
CHAPTER XII.
Rome and Education—Why does the Church of Rome 94-117
hate the Common Schools of the United States,
and wants to destroy them?—Why does she object
to the reading of the Bible in the Schools?
CHAPTER XIII.
Theology of the Church of Rome: its Anti-Social 118-128
and Anti-Christian Character
CHAPTER XIV.
The Vow of Celibacy 129-140
CHAPTER XV.
The Impurities of the Theology of Rome 141-153
CHAPTER XVI.
The Priest of Rome and the Holy Fathers; or, how I 154-162
swore to give up the Word of God to follow the
word of Men
CHAPTER XVII.
The Roman Catholic Priesthood, or Ancient and 163-172
Modern Idolatry,
CHAPTER XVIII.
Nine Consequences of the Dogma of 173-182
Transubstantiation—The old Paganism under a
Christian name
CHAPTER XIX.
Vicarage, and Life at St. Charles, Rivierre Boyer 183-194
CHAPTER XX.
Papineau and the Patriots in 1833—The burning of 195-203
“Le Canadien” by the Curate of St. Charles
CHAPTER XXI.
Grand Dinner of the Priests—The Maniac sister of 204-215
Rev. Mr. Perras
CHAPTER XXII.
I am appointed Vicar of the Curate of 216-226
Charlesbourgh—The Piety, Lives and Deaths of
Fathers Bedard and Perras
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Cholera Morbus of 1834—Admirable courage and 227-235
self-denial of the Priests of Rome during the
epidemic
CHAPTER XXIV.
I am named a Vicar of St. Roch, Quebec City—The 236-241
Rev. Mr. Tetu—Tertullian—General Cargo—The Seal
Skins
CHAPTER XXV.
Simony—Strange and sacrilegious traffic in the 242-251
so-called Body and Blood of Christ—Enormous sums
of Money made by the sale of Masses—The Society
of three Masses abolished and the Society of one
Mass established
CHAPTER XXVI.
Continuation of the trade in Masses 252-260
CHAPTER XXVII.
Quebec Marine Hospital—The first time I carried 261-267
the “Bon Dieu” (the wafer god) in my vest
pocket—The Grand Oyster Soiree at Mr.
Buteau’s—The Rev. L. Parent and the “Bon Dieu”
at the Oyster Soiree
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Dr. Douglas—My First Lesson on Temperance—Study of 268-282
Anatomy—Working of Alcohol in the Human
Frame—The Murderess of her own Child—I forever
give up the use of Intoxicating Drinks
CHAPTER XXIX.
Conversions of Protestants to the Church of 283-293
Rome—Rev. Anthony Parent, Superior of the
Seminary of Quebec: His peculiar way of finding
access to the Protestants and bringing them to
the Catholic Church—How he spies the Protestants
through the Confessional—I persuade ninety-three
Families to become Catholics
CHAPTER XXX.
The Murders and Thefts in Quebec from 1835 to 294-303
1886—The night Excursion with two Thieves—The
Restitution—The Dawn of Light
CHAPTER XXXI.
Chambers and his Accomplices Condemned to 304-312
death—Asked me to prepare them for their
terrible Fate—A week in their Dungeon—Their
Sentence of Death changed to Deportation to
Botany Bay—Their Departure for exile—I meet one
of them a sincere Convert, very rich, in a high
and honorable position in Australia in 1878
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Miracles of Rome—Attack of Typhoid 318-334
Fever—Apparition of St. Anne and St.
Philomene—My Sudden Cure—The Curate of St. Anne
Du Nord, Mons. Ranvoise, almost a disguised
Protestant
CHAPTER XXXIII.
My Nomination as Curate of Beauport—Degradation 335-342
and Ruin of that place through Drunkenness—My
opposition to my nomination useless—Preparation
to Establish a Temperance Society—I write to
Father Mathew for advice
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Hand of God in the establishment of a 343-350
Temperance Society in Beauport and Vicinity
CHAPTER XXXV.
Foundation of Temperance Societies in the 351-359
neighboring Parishes—Providential arrival of
Monsignor De Forbin Janson, Bishop of Nancy—He
publicly defends me against the Bishop of Quebec
and forever breaks the opposition of the Clergy
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The God of Rome eaten by Rats 360-367
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Visit of a Protestant stranger—He throws an Arrow 368-373
into my Priestly Soul never to be taken out
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Erection of the Column of Temperance—School 374-383
Buildings—A noble and touching act of the people
at Beauport
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Sent to succeed Rev. Mr Varin, Curate of 384-393
Kamouraska—Stern opposition of that Curate and
the surrounding Priests and People—Hours of
Desolation in Kamouraska—The good Master allays
the Tempest, and bids the Waves be still
CHAPTER XL.
Organization of Temperance Societies in Kamouraska 394-403
and surrounding Country—The Girl in the Garb of
a man in the service of the Curates of Quebec
and Eboulements—Frightened by the Scandals seen
everywhere—Give up my Parish of Kamouraska to
join the “Oblates of Mary Immaculate of
Longueuiel.”
CHAPTER XLI.
Perversions of Dr. Newman to the Church of Rome in 404-430
the light of his own explanations, Common Sense
and the Word of God
CHAPTER XLII.
Noviciate in the Monastery of the Oblates of Mary 431-449
Immaculate of Longueuiel—Some of the thousand
Acts of Folly and Idolatry which form the life
of a Monk—The Deplorable Fall of one of the
Fathers—Fall of the Grand Vicar Quiblier—Sick in
the Hotel Dieu of Montreal—Sister Urtubise, what
she says of Maria Monk—The two Missionaries to
the Lumbermen—Fall and Punishment of a Father
Oblate—What one of the best Father Oblates
thinks of the Monks and the Monastery
CHAPTER XLIII.
I accept the hospitality of the Rev. Mr. Brassard 450-456
of Longueuiel—I Give my reasons for leaving the
Oblates to Bishop Bourget—He presents me with a
splendid Crucifix blessed by his Holiness for
me, and accepts my services in the cause of
Temperance in the Diocese of Montreal
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HISTORY
OF THE
EIGHTY-SIXTH REGIMENT
ILLINOIS VOLUNTEER INFANTRY,
DURING ITS TERM OF SERVICE.
By J. R. KINNEAR,
Cruger, Woodford County, Illinois.
CHICAGO:
TRIBUNE COMPANY'S BOOK AND JOB PRINTING OFFICE.
1866.
TO THE
COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND ENLISTED MEN
OF THE
EIGHTY-SIXTH REGIMENT
ILLINOIS VOLUNTEER INFANTRY,
_This volume is respectfully dedicated, by_
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
The history of the Eighty-sixth Illinois was written in part while the
regiment was yet in the service, merely for the gratification of a
personal desire; but since its muster out, the author has been
frequently urged by many of his friends to have it published, that they
might share what he alone enjoyed. He complied with an earnest request
from Colonel Fahnestock to meet himself, General Magee, Major Thomas,
Dr. Guth, Captain Zinser and others at Peoria, to have the manuscript
examined before publication. It was met by their hearty approval, and
an eager desire on their part to have it published; at the same time
giving the assurance that they would lend their whole influence in
getting it before the public. For these reasons the author has been
induced to present this little volume to his comrades and friends, in
the hope that it will receive their hearty welcome.
The history of the Eighty-sixth is also the history of the 85th, 125th
and 110th Illinois, together with the 52nd Ohio | 1,139.883745 |
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Transcriber's Notes
Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings have been retained as in the
original. Other than minor changes to format or punctuation, any changes
to the text have been listed at the end of the book.
In this Plain Text version of the e-book, symbols from the ASCII
character set only are used. The following substitutions are made for
other symbols, accent and diacritics in the text:
[ae] and [AE] = ae-ligature (upper and lower case).
[^a] = a-circumflex
[:a] = a-umlaut
[oa] = a-ring
[c,] = c-cedilla
['e] = e-acute
[e'] = e-grave
[~n] = n-tilde
[:o] = o-umlaut
[OE] and [oe] = oe-ligature (upper and lower case).
[S] = section symbol
[:u] = u-umlaut
Other conventions used to represent the original text are as follows:
Italic typeface is indicated by _underscores_.
Small caps typeface is represented by UPPER CASE.
Superscript characters are indicated by ^{xx}.
A pointing hand symbol is represented as [hand].
Footnotes are numbered in sequence throughout the book and presented at
the end of the section or ballad in which the footnote anchor appears.
Notes with reference to ballad line numbers are presented at the end of
each ballad.
* * * * *
ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH
BALLADS.
EDITED BY
FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.
VOLUME III.
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
M.DCCC.LX.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857 by LITTLE,
BROWN AND COMPANY, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of
Massachusetts.
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H.O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME THIRD.
BOOK III. (continued.)
Page
11 a. Earl Richard, (A) [Scott's version] 3
11 b. Earl Richard, [Motherwell's version] 10
11 c. Young Redin 13
11 d. Lord William 18
12 a. Prince Robert 22
12 b. Earl Robert 26
13. The Weary Coble o' Cargill 30
14. Old Robin of Portingale 34
15. Fause Foodrage 40
16. Bonnie Annie 47
17. William Guiseman 50
18 a. The Enchanted Ring 53
18 b. Bonny Bee-Ho'm 57
19 a. The Three Ravens 59
19 b. The Twa Corbies, [Scott] 61
20 a. The Dowie Dens of Yarrow 63
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STORIES OF USEFUL INVENTIONS
[Illustration:
Guglielmo Marconi
Benjamin Franklin
Thomas Edison
Sir Henry Bessemer
Robert Fulton
Alexander Graham Bell
Hudson Maxim
A GROUP OF INVENTORS]
STORIES OF
USEFUL INVENTIONS
BY
S. E. FORMAN
AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES,"
"ADVANCED CIVICS," ETC.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1911
Copyright, 1911, by
THE CENTURY CO.
_Published September, 1911_
PREFACE
In this little book I have given the history of those inventions which
are most useful to man in his daily life. I have told the story of the
Match, the Stove, the Lamp, the Forge, the Steam-Engine, the Plow, the
Reaper, the Mill, the Loom, the House, the Carriage, the Boat, the
Clock, the Book, and the Message. From the history of these inventions
we learn how man became the master of the world of nature around him,
how he brought fire and air and earth and water under his control and
compelled them to do his will and his work. When we trace the growth of
these inventions we at the same time trace the course of human progress.
These stories, therefore, are stories of human progress; they are
chapters in the history of civilization.
And they are chapters which have not hitherto been brought together in
one book. Monographs on most of the subjects included in this book have
appeared, and excellent books about modern inventions have been written,
but as far as I know, this is the first time the evolution of these
useful inventions has been fully traced in a single volume.
While preparing the stories I have received many courtesies from
officers in the Library of Congress and from those of the National
Museum.
S. E. F.
May, 1911.
Washington, D. C.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE FOREWORD ix
I THE MATCH 3
II THE STOVE 13
III THE LAMP 28
IV THE FORGE 38
V THE STEAM-ENGINE 54
VI THE PLOW 73
VII THE REAPER 85
VIII THE MILL 97
IX THE LOOM 109
X THE HOUSE 123
XI THE CARRIAGE 144
XII THE CARRIAGE (_Continued_) 156
XIII THE BOAT 166
XIV THE CLOCK 187
XV THE BOOK 203
XVI THE MESSAGE 222
A FOREWORD[1]
These stories of useful inventions are chapters in the history of
civilization and this little book is a book of history. Now we are told
by Herodotus, one of the oldest and greatest of historians, that when
the writer of history records an event he should state the _time_ and
the _place_ of its happening. In some kinds of history--in the history
of the world's wars, for example, or in the history of its
politics--this is strictly true. When we are reading of the battle of
Bunker Hill we should be told precisely when and where the battle was
fought, and in an account of the Declaration of Independence the time
and place of the declaration should be given. But in the history of
inventions we cannot always be precise as to dates and places. Of course
it cannot be told when the first plow or the first loom or the first
clock was made. Inventions like these had their origin far back in the
earliest ages when there was no such person as a historian. And when we
come to the history of inventions in more recent times the historian is
still sometimes unable to discover the precise time and place of an
invention.
It is in the nature of things that the origin of an invention should be
surrounded by uncertainty and doubt. An invention, as we shall see
presently, is nearly always a response to a certain want. The world
wants something and it promises a rich reward to one who will furnish
the desired thing. The inventor, recognizing the want, sets to work to
make the thing, but he conducts his experiments in secret, for the
reason that he does not want another to steal his ideas and get ahead of
him. We can see that this is true in respect to the flying machine. The
first experiments with the flying machine were conducted in secret in
out of the way places and pains were taken that the public should know
as little as possible about the new machine and about the results of the
experiments. The history of the flying machine will of course have to be
written, but because of the secrecy and mystery which surrounded the
beginnings of the invention it will be extremely difficult for the
future historian to tell precisely when the first flying machine was
invented or to name the inventor. If it is so difficult to get the facts
as to the origin of an invention in our own time, how much more
difficult it is to clear away the mystery and doubt which surround the
beginnings of an invention in an age long past!
In a history of inventions, then, the historian cannot be precise in
respect to dates and places. Fortunately this is not a cause for deep
regret. It is not a great loss to truth that we cannot know precisely
when the first book was printed, nor does it make much difference
whether that book was printed in Holland or in Germany. In giving an
account of an invention we may be content to treat the matter of time
and place broadly, for the story is apt to carry us through a stretch of
years that defies computation, a stretch that is immensely longer than
the life of any nation. For our purpose these millenniums, these long
stretches of time, may be thought of as being divided into three great
periods, namely: the _primitive_, the _ancient_, and the _modern_
period. Even a division so broad as this is not satisfactory, for in the
progress of their inventions all countries have not kept equal step with
the march of time. In some things ancient Greece was modern, while in
most things modern Alaska is primitive and modern China is ancient.
Nevertheless it will be convenient at times in this book to speak of the
_primitive_, the _ancient_ and the _modern_ periods, and it will be
useful to regard the _primitive_ period as beginning with the coming of
man on earth and extending to the year 5000 B. C.; the _ancient_ period
may be thought of as beginning with the year 5000 B. C. and ending with
the year 476 A. D., leaving for the _modern_ period the years that have
passed since 476 A. D.
In tracing the growth of an invention the periods indicated above can
serve as a time-guide only for those parts of the world where the course
of civilization has taken its way, for invention and civilization have
traveled the same road. The region of the world's most advanced
civilization includes the lands bordering on the Mediterranean Sea,
Central and Northern Europe, the British Isles, North America, South
America and Australia. It is within this region that we shall follow the
development of whatever invention is under consideration. When speaking
of the first forms of an invention, however, it will sometimes be
necessary, when an illustration is desired, to draw upon the experience
of people who are outside of the wall of civilization. The reason for
going outside is plain. The first and simplest forms of the useful
inventions have utterly perished in civilized countries, but they still
exist among savage and barbarous peoples and it is among such peoples
that the first forms must be studied. Thus in the story of the clock,
we must go to a far-off peninsula of Southern Asia (p. 190) for an
illustration of the beginning of our modern timepiece. Such a departure
from the beaten track of civilization does not spoil the story, for as a
rule, the rude forms of inventions found among the lowest races of
to-day are precisely the same forms that were in use among the Egyptians
and Greeks when they were in their lowest state.
When studying the history of an invention there are two facts or
principles which should ever be borne in mind. The first principle is
this: _Necessity is the mother of invention._ This principle was touched
upon when it was said that an invention appears as a response to a want.
When the world wants an invention it usually gets it and makes the most
of it, but it will have nothing to do with an invention it does not
want. The steam-engine was invented two thousand years ago (p. 55) but
the world then had no work for steam to do, so the invention attracted
little attention and came to naught. About two hundred years ago,
however, man did want the services of steam and inventors were not long
in supplying the engine that was needed. About a hundred years ago the
broad prairie lands of the United States began to be tilled but it was
soon found that the vast areas could not be plowed and that the immense
crops could not be harvested by the old methods. So improvements upon
the plow and the reaper began to be made and in time the steam gang | 1,139.978716 |
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ENGLAND AND THE WAR
being
SUNDRY ADDRESSES
delivered during the war
and now first collected
by
WALTER RALEIGH
OXFORD
1918
CONTENTS
PREFACE
MIGHT IS RIGHT
First published as one of the Oxford Pamphlets,
October 1914.
THE WAR OF IDEAS
An Address to the Royal Colonial Institute,
December 12, 1916.
THE FAITH OF ENGLAND
An Address to the Union Society of University
College, London, March 22, 1917.
SOME GAINS OF THE WAR
An Address to the Royal Colonial Institute,
February 13, 1918.
THE WAR AND THE PRESS
A Paper read to the Essay Society, Eton College,
March 14, 1918.
SHAKESPEARE AND ENGLAND
The Annual Shakespeare Lecture of the British
Academy, delivered July 4, 1918.
PREFACE
This book was not planned, but grew out of the troubles of the time.
When, on one occasion or another, I was invited to lecture, I did not
find, with Milton's Satan, that the mind is its own place; I could speak
only of what I was thinking of, and my mind was fixed on the War. I am
unacquainted with military science, so my treatment of the War was
limited to an estimate of the characters of the antagonists.
The character of Germany and the Germans is a riddle. I have seen no
convincing solution of it by any Englishman, and hardly any confident
attempt at a solution which did not speak the uncontrolled language of
passion. There is the same difficulty with the lower animals; our
description of them tends to be a description of nothing but our own
loves and hates. Who has ever fathomed the mind of a rhinoceros; or has
remembered, while he faces the beast, that a good rhinoceros is a
pleasant member of the community in which his life is passed? We see
only the folded hide, the horn, and the angry little eye. We know that
he is strong and cunning, and that his desires and instincts are
inconsistent with our welfare. Yet a rhinoceros is a simpler creature
than a German, and does not trouble our thought by conforming, on
occasion, to civilized standards and humane conditions.
It seems unreasonable to lay great stress on racial differences. The
insuperable barrier that divides England from Germany has grown out of
circumstance and habit and thought. For many hundreds of years the
German peoples have stood to arms in their own defence against the
encroachments of successive empires; and modern Germany learned the
doctrine of the omnipotence of force by prolonged suffering at the hands
of the greatest master of that immoral school--the Emperor Napoleon. No
German can understand the attitude of disinterested patronage which the
English mind quite naturally assumes when it is brought into contact
with foreigners. The best example of this superiority of attitude is to
be seen in the people who are called pacifists. They are a peculiarly
English type, and they are the most arrogant of all the English. The
idea that they should ever have to fight for their lives is to them
supremely absurd. There must be some mistake, they think, which can be
easily remedied once it is pointed out. Their title to existence is so
clear to themselves that they are convinced it will be universally
recognized; it must not be made a matter of international conflict.
Partly, no doubt, this belief is fostered by lack of imagination. The
sheltered conditions and leisured life which they enjoy as the parasites
of a dominant race have produced in them a false sense of security. But
there is something also of the English strength and obstinacy of
character in their self-confidence, and if ever Germany were to conquer
England some of them would spring to their full stature as the heroes of
an age-long and indomitable resistance. They are not held in much esteem
to-day among their own people; they are useless for the work in hand;
and their credit has suffered from the multitude of pretenders who make
principle a cover for cowardice. But for all that, they are kin to the
makers of England, and the fact that Germany would never tolerate them
for an instant is not without its lesson.
We shall never understand the Germans. Some of their traits may possibly
be explained by their history. Their passionate devotion to the State,
their amazing vulgarity, their worship of mechanism and mechanical
efficiency, are explicable in a people who are not strong in individual
character, who have suffered much to achieve union, and who have
achieved it by subordinating themselves, soul and body, to a brutal
taskmaster. But the convulsions of war have thrown up things that are
deeper than these, primaeval things, which, until recently, civilization
was believed to have destroyed. The old monstrous gods who gave their
names to the days of the week are alive again in Germany. The English
soldier of to-day goes into action with the cold courage of a man who is
prepared to make the best of a bad job. The German soldier sacrifices
himself, in a frenzy of religious exaltation, to the War-God. The
filthiness that the Germans use, their deliberate befouling of all that
is elegant and gracious and antique, their spitting into the food that
is to be eaten by their prisoners, their defiling with ordure the sacred
vessels in the churches--all these things, too numerous and too
monotonous to describe, are not the instinctive coarsenesses of the
brute beast; they are a solemn ritual of filth, religiously practised,
by officers no less than by men. The waves of emotional exaltation which
from time to time pass over the whole people have the same character,
the character of savage religion.
If they are alien to civilization when they fight, they are doubly alien
when they reason. They are glib and fluent in the use of the terms which
have been devised for the needs of thought and argument, but their use
of these terms is empty, and exhibits all the intellectual processes
with the intelligence left out. I know nothing more distressing than the
attempt to follow any German argument concerning the War. If it were
merely wrong-headed, cunning, deceitful, there might still be some
compensation in its cleverness. There is no such compensation. The
statements made are not false, but empty; the arguments used are not
bad, but meaningless. It is as if they despised language, and made use
of it only because they believe that it is an instrument of deceit. But
a man who has no respect for language cannot possibly use it in such a
manner as to deceive others, especially if those others are accustomed
to handle it delicately and powerfully. It ought surely to be easy to
apologize for a war that commands the whole-hearted support of a nation;
but no apology worthy of the name has been produced in Germany. The
pleadings which have been used are servile things, written to order, and
directed to some particular address, as if the truth were of no
importance. No one of these appeals has produced any appreciable effect
on the minds of educated Frenchmen, or Englishmen | 1,139.981337 |
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TREASURES IN HEAVEN
FIFTEENTH BOOK OF THE
FAITH PROMOTING SERIES
DESIGNED FOR THE INSTRUCTION
AND ENCOURAGEMENT OF YOUNG
LATTER-DAY SAINTS
COMPILED AND PUBLISHED BY
GEO. C. LAMBERT
SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH
1914
OFFICIAL SANCTION
April 8, 1914
To the First Presidency, City.
Dear Brethren:
I have had a desire for a long time past to resume the publication
of the Faith Promoting Series that I originated and published
something like thirty-five years ago, but which has been suspended
for almost thirty years.
I received the sanction of the Church authorities when the
publication of this series was commenced, and had ample evidence
afterwards of the popularity of the volumes issued, and of the
general benefit resulting therefrom. I now desire your sanction
in what I may do in publishing additional volumes; and hope to
subserve the interests of the Church and promote true faith only in
what I publish.
If you deem it necessary to appoint a committee to whom I may
refer any matter concerning which there may be a question as to
propriety, etc., I shall be glad to have you do so.
I am prepared to assume all financial responsibility, and believe,
with the experience I have had, I shall be able to do effective
work in the selection and preparation of the matter.
I intend to make the volumes about one hundred pages each, and hope
to be able to sell them at twenty-five cents per volume.
I have the matter partially prepared for two volumes, the first to
relate to Temple work, and to be called "Treasures in Heaven," the
second to contain a variety of incidents and experiences, and to be
called "Choice Memories."
A waiting your kind consideration and reply, and with kindest
regards, I remain
Your Brother,
GEO. C. LAMBERT.
April 30, 1914
Elder George C. Lambert, City.
Dear Brother:
We learn by yours of the 28th inst. that you desire to resume the
publication of the "Faith Promoting Series," discontinued some
thirty years ago, and we take pleasure in informing you that you
have our sanction to do this, and that we have appointed Elders
George F. Richards, A. W. Ivins and Joseph F. Smith, Jr. as a
committee to read the manuscript.
With kind regards,
Your Brethren,
JOSEPH F. SMITH, ANTHON H. LUND, CHARLES W. PENROSE,
First Presidency.
PREFACE
No lesson taught by the Savior during his ministry in mortality was
more frequently and thoroughly impressed than that of unselfish
service. Of those who labored solely for the things of this world,
or for praise or the honors that men can bestow, He had a habit of
saying: "They have their reward." If they obtained that which they
strove for they were already repaid: they were entitled to nothing
more. Of the rich He said, "Ye have received your consolation." It
was not sufficient that man should seek to benefit or bring happiness
alone to those they loved. Even that He evidently regarded as a species
of selfishness, as implied by the saying: "For if ye love them which
love you, what reward have ye?" "For sinners do even the same." His
exhortation was: "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where
moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal;
but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor
rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal."
All this was not intended to imply that wealth itself was intrinsically
bad, or that poverty had any essential virtue, except as a means to
an end. The rule was, as expressed by | 1,139.983533 |
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Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Christine P. Travers and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all
other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling has
been maintained.]
[Illustration: _The Signatories to the Peace Treaty on behalf of the South
African Republic._]
[Illustration: _The Signatories to the Peace Treaty on behalf of the
Orange Free State._]
ARMY HEADQUARTERS, SOUTH AFRICA.
PRETORIA. 4th March, 1902.
Your Honour,
By direction of His Majesty's Government, I have the honour to forward
enclosed copy of an Aide-Memoire communicated by the Netherland Minister
to the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, together with his reply
thereto.
I have the honour to be,
Your Honour's Obedient Servant,
[Signature of Kitchener.]
General.
Commanding-in-Chief, South Africa.
To
His Honour,
Mr. Schalk Burger.
_Facsimile of the letter from Lord Kitchener upon which the Peace
Negotiations were entered into._
THE PEACE NEGOTIATIONS
_Between the Governments of the South African Republic
and the Orange Free State, and the Representatives
of the British Government, which terminated
in the Peace concluded at Vereeniging
on the 31st May, 1902_
BY
REV. J. D. KESTELL
_Secretary to the Orange Free State Government_
AND
D. E. VAN VELDEN
_Secretary to the Government of the South African Republic_
TRANSLATED AND PUBLISHED BY
D. E. VAN VELDEN
_WITH PHOTOS AND FACSIMILES OF ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS_
LONDON
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LTD., BRUNSWICK STREET, S.E.
1912
RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E., AND
BUNGAY SUFFOLK
CONTENTS
Page
PREFACE ix
Introduction by S. W. Burger, M.L.A., Acting State President
of the Late South African Republic xiii
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE xix
CHAPTER I
Preliminary Correspondence 1
CHAPTER II
Proceedings at Klerksdorp 18
CHAPTER III
First Negotiations at Pretoria 33
CHAPTER IV
Vereeniging 46
CHAPTER V
Further Negotiations at Pretoria 98
CHAPTER VI
Vereeniging and Peace 138
APPENDIX--The Middelburg Proposals 210
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Signatories to the Peace Treaty on behalf of the South
African Republic. _Frontispiece_
The Signatories to the Peace Treaty on behalf of the Orange Free
State. _Frontispiece_
Facsimile of the letter from Lord Kitchener upon which
the Peace Negotiations were entered into _Facing Title page_
_Facing page_
Facsimile of the copy of the reply from the Government
of the South African Republic to Lord Kitchener's letter
dated 4th March, 1902 6
Facsimile of Safe Conduct granted by Lord Kitchener 44
Facsimile of the Oath subscribed to at Vereeniging by
the Delegates of the South African Republic 46
Facsimile of the Oath subscribed to at Vereeniging by
the Delegates of the Orange Free State 46
Facsimile of a page of the Peace Proposals as submitted by the
British Representatives and amended by the Boer Representatives.
The alterations are in the handwriting of Generals Smuts and
Hertzog 112
Facsimile of a page of the Peace Proposals as submitted
by the British Representatives and amended by the Boer
Representatives. The alterations are in the handwriting of
General Smuts and Mr. Advocate N. J. de Wet 117
Facsimile of the original proposal by Commandant H. P. J.
Pretorius, seconded by General Chris. Botha, to accept the
British Peace Proposals 202
Facsimile of the document on which the voting on the proposal
by Commandant H. P. J. Pretorius, seconded by General Chris.
Botha, to accept the British Peace Proposals was recorded 206
PREFACE
The want has been repeatedly expressed of an official publication of
the Minutes of the Negotiations which led to the Peace concluded at
Vereeniging on May 31, 1902, events which have hitherto been a closed
page in the history of the Boer War. As the Republics had ceased to
exist, the question arose: Who could publish such Minutes? It is true
that some very incomplete Minutes appeared in General de Wet's book,
but although they were in all probability reliable, yet they had not
the seal of an official document.
The only way in which the want could be met appeared to be for the
Secretaries, who had been appointed by the two Republican Governments
to minute the Negotiations, to publish those Minutes after they had
been read and approved of as authentic by persons competent to do so.
This is what has been done by this publication, which places the
reader in possession of all the correspondence leading up to the
Negotiations, exact reports of what was said and done, not only at
Vereeniging, but also previously at Klerksdorp, and, finally, all the
Negotiations which took place at Pretoria between the two Republican
Governments and the British Government, represented by Lord Kitchener
and Lord Milner.
We, however, were not satisfied to publish this record, which we had
most carefully taken down, merely on our own authority. We felt that,
if only this and nothing more were done, the world would after all
have only our word to rely upon, and that, although the record thus
published would always serve as a highly reliable book of reference,
it would lack the authority of a document properly authenticated by a
body competent to do so.
In order, therefore, to obtain this desirable seal of authenticity to
our record, we submitted our manuscript to President Steyn, Acting
President Burger, the Chairman of the Meeting of Representatives of
the People at Vereeniging (General C. F. Beyers), Generals Botha and
Smuts for the South African Republic, and Generals de Wet and Hertzog
for the Orange Free State, with the result that they all found our
record to be a true and correct account of the Peace Negotiations.
So this book sees the light with their _imprimatur_, and we therefore
publish it with the greatest confidence.
The Reader's attention is drawn to the following particulars:--
In respect of the speeches made by the members of the Republican
Governments at Klerksdorp, and the speeches delivered later at
Vereeniging by them and by the Delegates from the various
Commandos, the reports are almost _verbatim_. The addresses of
the Presidents and principal Generals especially were transcribed
from the stenographic notes of D. E. van Velden, and revised by
J. D. Kestell.
This completeness does not extend to what is published of the
_First_ Conference between the two Republican Governments and
Lord Kitchener and Lord Milner, because no Secretaries were
admitted to that Conference. Lord Kitchener had expressed the
desire that no official notes should be taken, as the parties
would first confer informally. What was discussed, however, has
not been lost, for an account of what took place at this
Conference was taken down by J. D. Kestell from the dictation of
General Hertzog immediately after the conference was over, and
revised by President Steyn and Mr. W. J. C. Brebner (Acting
Government Secretary, Orange Free State), and appears in this
book.
With reference to the _Second_ Conference, however, we were
present, and what is given is a _verbatim_ account of the
discussion.
Of some official documents in our possession, reproductions or
facsimiles are given in the hope that the reader will find them of
interest.
J. D. K.
D. E. v. V.
_Pretoria,
October, 1908._
INTRODUCTION
DEAR READER,
In connection with the publication, by the Rev. J. D. Kestell and Mr.
D. E. van Velden, of the official minutes of the Peace Negotiations
(together with the official correspondence relating thereto) between
the British Government and the Governments of the Orange Free State
and the South African Republic, which terminated in the Peace
concluded at Vereeniging on May 31, 1902, I do not wish in this
introduction to enter into details, but merely to confine my remarks
to the great responsibility which rested upon us and to the question,
"Was it necessary to conclude Peace?"
If it was a task of supreme importance to decide to enter upon the
struggle which had been waged, if it was an arduous and difficult duty
to carry on the struggle, it was much harder and more difficult to
foresee what the result of that struggle would be, and still harder
and more difficult to decide to give it up. With how much hope, fear,
and anxiety was not the end looked forward to! And when the end came,
what did it not cost us to persuade the head to do what the heart
refused to perform? What was realised of that hope for which there had
been such a struggle, for which so much had been suffered, so much
endured, so much sacrificed--the Reader will find in this book. He
will also find in it the correspondence which led up to, and was
carried on during, the Peace Negotiations; the proceedings at our
meetings at Klerksdorp, Pretoria, and Vereeniging; the opinions,
views, and grounds upon which the leaders of the people acted, in so
far as those were expressed. You will not, however, find here the
struggle that took place at Vereeniging within every Delegate between
the heart and the head; the intense effort which it cost us to bring
ourselves to acknowledge to our powerful enemy that we had been
overpowered, exhausted, and were unable to continue the struggle any
longer; to acknowledge to ourselves and posterity that our sacrifices,
the blood and tears that had been shed, the indescribable anxiety for
wife and children, the suffering and death of the thousands of
innocent women and children, the awful evils which had fallen to the
lot of the rebels, had been all in vain; that we were about to lose
all for which we had suffered and sacrificed. All this, I say, you do
not find recorded here, but you may read it in the grey hairs of the
Delegates to Vereeniging and of our people, in the deep wrinkles on
their faces, and in the expression on the countenance of every
Boer--that expression which cannot conceal what the soul had to
endure. We had already sacrificed much, yet, in spite of all, the hope
had inseparably clung to us that no sacrifice, no privation, no loss
would be in vain. There at Vereeniging, however, we had to surrender
what was dearest to us, we had to stand at the open grave of the two
Republics, and we had to say with bowed heads: "We had not hoped,
expected, willed for this, but--Thy will be done!"
We are asked: "Why did you make peace? Why did you not persevere? Was
there no hope? Had the last resources been exhausted, and was all your
strength spent?" To these questions I must emphatically reply "Yes";
there was no means that had not been resorted to, no strength, no
reasonable hope left. As rational beings we could see no grounds upon
which to continue the struggle with any hope of success. It was,
however, not the arms of the enemy which directly compelled us to
surrender, but another sword which they had stretched out over
us--namely, the sword of hunger and nakedness, and, what weighed most
heavily of all, the awful mortality amongst our women and children in
the Concentration Camps. I, as Acting State President, upon whom great
responsibility rested, was convinced that it was time for us to
conclude peace, not for the sake of ourselves, the leaders, but for
the sake of the People, who were so faithful, in order to preserve the
root that still remained, and in order not to allow our nation to be
entirely exterminated; out of the ruins of our country to endeavour
later on to develop a South African nationality, to build up the
nation again, and to preserve the unity of the People. It was our
conviction that the further prosecution of the war would mean the
destruction of our national existence. Whether that conviction was
correct or not, we confidently leave to the judgment of posterity.
Allow me also a reply to the question: "Why did we not conclude peace
sooner?" A question which by some is even put reproachfully. My answer
is that, as we fought for the retention of our Fatherland and our
National honour, we, as men, could not give up the struggle before we
had convincing proof that we had persevered and resisted to the
uttermost. That proof was thrust upon us at Vereeniging, and now every
one who defended his Fatherland to the last can bear his fate with an
easy conscience, and the world is convinced with us that we fought to
the bitter end. With all our disappointments we had further to
experience that Great Britain, in addition to the tremendous forces
with which her mighty Empire supplied, also availed herself of natives
and other unjustifiable means. I wish merely to mention this.
At Vereeniging we began by looking up prayerfully to God, Who decides
the destinies of men and nations, and became convinced that it was the
right time to make peace, and that we were on the right road by
concluding the Treaty of Vereeniging. My closing words at Vereeniging
were: "Comrades, we stand beside the grave of both Republics, but not
at the grave of our People. We have laid down our arms and concluded
the struggle which has brought death, misery, and destruction. But now
we have to enter upon another struggle, much greater and much nobler.
It will be our duty to labour with vigour and sacrifice at the
rebuilding of our nation. Therein lies a great work before us.
Although our former functions have now lapsed, our calling and duty
still remain. The People who have looked up to us and remained so
faithful to the end will continue to look up to us, and rightly expect
assistance and advice under the altered circumstances. Let it always
be our aim to serve our People."
Have subsequent events not proved that our view was correct?
Peace! How was it received?
I think the answer must be: "With deep disappointment." The victors
did not exult. Was it perhaps because they involuntarily felt that
from the time when they, principally upon distorted representations,
unjustifiably interfered with the affairs of the South African
Republic, up to the Conference at Vereeniging, they had achieved no
honour? Our People, especially the women and daughters in the
Concentration Camps, were deeply dismayed. I have never seen a more
impressive and sadder scene than the sight of the 4,000 women and
children in the Merebank Concentration Camp, Natal, when I informed
them that we had concluded peace, by which we had had to sacrifice our
country. The question: "Is it for _this_ that I sacrificed my husband,
my son, my child?"--which resounded in my ears from the lips of the
weep | 1,140.636872 |
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from the Google Print project.)
MATED FROM THE MORGUE
_A TALE OF THE SECOND EMPIRE_
BY
JOHN AUGUSTUS O'SHEA
AUTHOR OF
'LEAVES FROM THE LIFE OF A SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT,' 'AN
IRON-BOUND CITY,' 'ROMANTIC SPAIN,' 'MILITARY
MOSAICS,' ETC.
'La Ville de Paris a son grand mât tout de bronze, sculpté de
victoires, et pour vigie Napoléon.'--DE BALZAC.
LONDON
SPENCER BLACKETT
[Successor to J. & R. Maxwell]
MILTON HOUSE, 35, ST. BRIDE STREET, E.C.
1889
[_All rights reserved_]
APOLOGETIC.
This tale, such as it is, has one merit. It is a study of manners,
mainly made on the spot, not evolved from the shelves of the British
Museum. There is in it, at least, a crude attempt at photography, a
process in which sunlight and air have some part, and, therefore, liker
to nature than the adumbrations of the reading-room. The localities are
faithfully drawn, the persons are not dolls with stuffing of sawdust,
but human animals who might have lived--and, mayhap, did live. If the
volume does not kill an hour, the writer is murderer only in thought.
TO MY FRIEND,
COLONEL THE BARON CRAIGNISH,
EQUERRY TO
HIS HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF SAXE-COBURG-GOTHA,
This Little Book,
IN TARDY THANK-OFFERING FOR THAT LARGE
LEG OF MUTTON.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A HOUSELESS DOG 1
II. A CRUSH AT THE MORGUE 8
III. LE VRAI N'EST PAS TOUJOURS VRAISEMBLABLE 20
IV. THE SONG-BIRD'S NEST 30
V. NAPOLEONIC IDEAS 40
VI. THE OLD BONAPARTIST'S STORY 52
VII. FRIEZECOAT AT HOME 65
VIII. POPPING THE QUESTION 75
IX. A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE 85
X. 'LA JEUNE FRANCE' 96
XI. THE BONE OF CONTENTION 104
XII. ORANGE BLOSSOMS 121
XIII. THE HONEYMOON TRIP 128
XIV. VANITAS VANITATUM 139
XV. THE FIFTH OF MAY, 1870 152
MATED FROM THE MORGUE.
CHAPTER I.
A HOUSELESS DOG.
The scene is Paris, the Imperial Paris, but not a quarter that is
fashionable, wealthy, or much frequented by the tourist. It is the wild,
slovenly, buoyant quarter of the Paris of the left bank, known as _le
Pays Latin_--the Land of Latin. The quarter of frolic and genius, of
vaulting ambition and limp money-bags, of generosity and meanness, of
truth and hypocrisy; the quarter which supplies the France of the future
with its mighty thinkers, the France of the passing with the forlorn
hopes of its revolutions, the world--and the _demi monde_ too--very
often with its most brilliant and erratic meteors.
The time is the spring of 1866. The chestnut-tree, called the Twentieth
of March, in the Champs Elysées, has shown its first blossoms. But the
weather is cold and damp in spite of these deceitful blossoms: the skies
weep, and chill winds blow sullenly along the Seine. It is just the
weather to make the blaze of a ruddy fire a cheerful sight, and the hiss
of the crackling logs a cheerful sound; but there is neither fire nor,
indeed, grate or stove wherein to put it, in the cabinet numbered 37, on
the fifth story of the Hôtel de Suez, in the Rue du Four, into which we
ask the reader to penetrate | 1,140.637053 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images produced by Core Historical
Literature in Agriculture (CHLA), Cornell University)
***********************************************************************
* Transcriber's Note: Obvious typos were fixed and use of hyphens was *
* normalized throughout, but all other spelling and punctuation was *
* retained as it appeared in the original text. *
***********************************************************************
ASPARAGUS
ITS CULTURE FOR HOME USE AND FOR MARKET
A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON THE PLANTING, CULTIVATION, HARVESTING,
MARKETING, AND PRESERVING OF ASPARAGUS, WITH NOTES ON ITS HISTORY AND
BOTANY
BY
F. M. HEXAMER
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
ORANGE JUDD COMPANY
1914
_Printed in U. S. A._
[Illustration: BEGINNING OF THE ASPARAGUS INDUSTRY IN CALIFORNIA]
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE vi
I. Historical Sketch 1
II. Botany 4
III. Cultural Varieties 17
IV. Seed Growing 26
V. The Raising of Plants 30
VI. Selection of Plants 38
VII. The Soil and Its Preparation 43
VIII. Planting 49
IX. Cultivation 61
X. Fertilizers and Fertilizing 72
XI. Harvesting and Marketing 83
XII. Forcing 100
XIII. Preserving Asparagus 112
XIV. Injurious Insects 126
XV. Fungus Diseases 137
XVI. Asparagus Culture in Different Localities 145
INDEX 167
ILLUSTRATIONS
Beginning of the Asparagus Industry in California
_Frontispiece_
PAGE
Asparagus Plumosus Nanus 5
Asparagus Sprengeri 7
Asparagus Laricinus 9
Asparagus Racemosus, var. Tetragonus 11
Asparagus Sarmentosus 12
Crown, Roots, Buds, Spear 14
Stem, Leaves, Flowers, Berries 14
Flowers 15
Palmetto Asparagus 21
Pot-Grown Plant 37
Horizontal Development of Roots 51
Trenches Ready for Planting 57
Hudson's Trencher 58
Root in Proper Position for Covering 59
Cross-section of Trenches After Planting 60
Asparagus Field Ridged in Early Spring 67
Leveling the Ridges After Cutting Season 69
Fertilized Asparagus Plot 75
Unfertilized Asparagus Plot 77
Basket of Asparagus 85
Cutting and Picking Up Asparagus 86
Horse Carrier for Ten Boxes 87
Asparagus Knives 89
End and Side View of White Asparagus Bunches 90
Conover's Asparagus Buncher 91
Watt's Asparagus Buncher 92
Rack and Knives Used in New England 93
At the Bunching Table 94
Box of Giant Asparagus 97
Southern Asparagus Crate 98
Tunnel for Forcing Steam Through the Soil 107
A Long Island Asparagus Cannery 113
Sterilizing Tank 115
Sterilizing Room 117
Interior View of a California Asparagus Cannery 119
Perspective View of a California Asparagus Cannery 121
Cannery in Asparagus Fields 123
Common Asparagus Beetle 127
Asparagus Attacked by Beetles 129
Spotted Ladybird 131
Twelve-spotted Asparagus Beetle 134
Asparagus Stems Affected with Rust 138
Portion of Rusted Asparagus Stems 139
Asparagus Field on Bouldin Island 161
PREFACE
The cultivation of asparagus for home use as well as for market is so
rapidly increasing, and reliable information pertaining to it is so
frequently asked for, that a book on this subject is evidently needed.
| 1,140.638035 |
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Produced by David Widger. HTML version by Al Haines
THE SNOW-IMAGE
AND
OTHER TWICE-TOLD TALES
LITTLE DAFFYDOWNDILLY
By
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Daffydowndilly was so called because in his nature he resembled a flower,
and loved to do only what was beautiful and agreeable, and took no
delight in labor of any kind. But, while Daffydowndilly was yet a little
boy, his mother sent him away from his pleasant home, and put him under
the care of a very strict schoolmaster, who went by the name of Mr. Toil.
Those who knew him best affirmed that this Mr. Toil was a very worthy
character; and that he had done more good, both to children and grown
people, than anybody else in the world. Certainly he had lived long
enough to do a great deal of good; for, if all stories be true, he had
dwelt upon earth ever since Adam was driven from the garden of Eden.
Nevertheless, Mr. Toil had a severe and ugly countenance, especially for
such little boys or big men as were inclined to be idle; his voice, too,
was harsh; and all his ways and customs seemed very disagreeable to our
friend Daffydowndilly. The whole day long, this terrible old
schoolmaster sat at his desk overlooking the scholars, or stalked about
the school-room with a certain awful birch rod in his hand. Now came a
rap over the shoulders of a boy whom Mr. Toil had caught at play; now he
punished a whole class who were behindhand with their lessons; and, in
short, unless a lad chose to attend quietly and constantly to his book,
he had no chance of enjoying a quiet moment in the school-room of Mr.
Toil.
"This will never do for me," thought Daffydowndilly.
Now, the whole of Daffydowndilly's life had hitherto been passed with his
dear mother, who had a much sweeter face than old Mr. Toil, and who had
always been very indulgent to her little boy. No wonder, therefore, that
poor Daffydowndilly found it a woful change, to be sent away from the
good lady's side, and put under the care of this ugly-visaged
schoolmaster, who never gave him any apples or cakes, and seemed to think
that little boys were created only to get lessons.
"I can't bear it any longer," said Daffydowndilly to himself, when he had
been at school about a week. "I'll run away, and try to find my dear
mother; and, at any rate, I shall never find anybody half so disagreeable
as this old Mr. Toil!"
So, the very next morning, off started poor Daffydowndilly, and began his
rambles about the world, with only some bread and cheese for his
breakfast, and very little pocket-money to pay his expenses. But he had
gone only a short distance, when he overtook a man of grave and sedate
appearance, who was trudging at a moderate pace along the road.
"Good morning, my fine lad," said the stranger; and his voice seemed hard
and severe, but yet had a sort of kindness in it; "whence do you come so
early, and whither are you going?"
Little Daffydowndilly was a boy of very ingenuous disposition, and had
never been known to tell a lie in all his life. Nor did he tell one now.
He hesitated a moment or two, but finally confessed that he had run away
from school, on account of his great dislike to Mr. Toil; and that he
was resolved to find some place in the world where he should never see or
hear of the old schoolmaster again.
"O, very well, my little friend!" answered the stranger. "Then we will
go together; for I, likewise, have had a good deal to do with Mr. Toil,
and should be glad to find some place where he was never heard of."
Our friend Daffydowndilly would have been better pleased with a companion
of his own age, with whom he might have gathered flowers along the
roadside, or have chased butterflies, or have done many other things to
make the journey pleasant. But he had wisdom enough to understand that
he should get along through the world much easier by having a man of
experience to show him the way. So he accepted the stranger's proposal,
and they walked on very sociably together.
They had not gone far, when the road passed by a field where some
haymakers were at work, mowing down the tall grass, and spreading it out
in the sun to dry. Daffydowndilly was delighted with the sweet smell of
the new-mown grass, and thought how much pleasanter it must be to make
hay in the sunshine, under the blue sky, and with the birds singing
sweetly in the neighboring trees and bushes, than to be shut up in a
dismal school-room, learning lessons all day long, and continually
scolded by old Mr. Toil. But, in the midst of these thoughts, while he
was stopping to peep over the stone wall, he started back and caught hold
of his companion's hand.
"Quick, quick!" cried he. "Let us run away, or he will catch us!"
"Who will catch us?" asked the stranger.
"Mr. Toil, the old schoolmaster!" answered Daffydowndilly. "Don't you
see him amongst the haymakers?"
And Daffydowndilly pointed to an elderly man, who seemed to be the owner
of the field, and the employer of the men at work there. He had stripped
off his coat and waistcoat, and was busily at work in his shirt-sleeves.
The drops of sweat stood upon his brow; but he gave himself not a
moment's rest, and kept crying out to the haymakers to make hay while the
sun shone. Now, strange to say, the figure and features of this old
farmer were precisely the same as those of old Mr. Toil, who, at that
very moment, must have been just entering his school-room.
"Don't be afraid," said the stranger. "This is not Mr. Toil the
schoolmaster, but a brother of his, who was bred a farmer; and people say
he is the most disagreeable man of the two. However, he won't trouble
you, unless you become a laborer on the farm."
Little Daffydowndilly believed what his companion said, but was very
glad, nevertheless, when they were out of sight of the old farmer, who
bore such a singular resemblance to Mr. Toil. The two travellers had
gone but little farther, when they came to a spot where some carpenters
were erecting a house. Daffydowndilly begged his companion to stop a
moment; for it was a very pretty sight to see how neatly the carpenters
did their work, with their broad-axes, and saws, and planes, and hammers,
shaping out the doors, and putting in the window-sashes, and nailing on
the clapboards; and he could not help thinking that he should like to
take a broad-axe, a saw, a plane, and a hammer, and build a little house
for himself. And then, when he should have a house of his own, old Mr.
Toil would never dare to molest him.
But, just while he was delighting himself with this idea, little
Daffydowndilly beheld something that made him catch hold of his
companion's hand, all in a fright.
"Make haste. Quick, quick!" cried he. "There he is again!"
"Who?" asked the stranger, very quietly.
"Old Mr. Toil," said Daffydowndilly, trembling. "There! he that is
overseeing the carpenters. 'T is my old schoolmaster, as sure as I'm
alive!"
The stranger cast his eyes where Daffydowndilly pointed his finger; and
he saw an elderly man, with a carpenter's rule and compasses in his hand.
This person went to and fro about the unfinished house, measuring pieces
of timber, and marking out the work that was to be done, and continually
exhorting the other carpenters to be diligent. And wherever he turned
his hard and wrinkled visage, the men seemed to feel that they had a
task-master over them, and sawed, and hammered, and planed, as if for
dear life.
"O no! this is not Mr. Toil, the schoolmaster," said the stranger. "It
is another brother of his, who follows the trade of carpenter."
"I am very glad to hear it," quoth Daffydowndilly; "but if you please,
sir, I should like to get out of his way as soon as possible."
Then they went on a little farther, and soon heard the sound of a drum
and fife. Daffydowndilly pricked up his ears at this, and besought his
companion to hurry forward, that they might not miss seeing the
soldiers. Accordingly, they made what haste they could, and soon met a
company of soldiers, gayly dressed, with beautiful feathers in their
caps, and bright muskets on their shoulders. In front marched two
drummers and two fifers, beating on their drums and playing on their
fifes with might and main, and making such lively music that little
Daffydowndilly would gladly have followed them to the end of the world.
And if he was only a soldier, then, he said to himself, old Mr. Toil
would never venture to look him in the face.
"Quick step! Forward march!" shouted a gruff voice.
Little Daffydowndilly started, in great dismay; for this voice which had
spoken to the soldiers sounded precisely the same as that which he had
heard every day in Mr. Toil's school-room, out of Mr. Toil's own mouth.
And, turning his eyes to the captain of the company, what should he see
but the very image of old Mr. Toil himself, with a smart cap and feather
on his head, a pair of gold epaulets on his shoulders, a laced coat on
his back, a purple sash round his waist, and a long sword, instead of a
birch rod, in his hand. And though he held his head so high, and
strutted like a turkey-cock, still he looked quite as ugly and
disagreeable as when he was hearing lessons in the schoolroom.
"This is certainly old Mr. Toil," said Daffydowndilly, in a trembling
voice. "Let us run away, for fear he should make us enlist in his
company!"
"You are mistaken again, my little friend," replied the stranger, very
composedly. "This is not Mr. Toil, the schoolmaster, but a brother of
his, who has served in the army all his life. People say he's a terribly
severe fellow; but you and I need not be afraid of him."
"Well, well," said little Daffydowndilly, "but, if you please, sir, I
don't want to see the soldiers any more."
So the child and the stranger resumed their journey; and, by and by, they
came to a house by the roadside, where a number of people were making
merry. Young men and rosy-checked girls, with smiles on their faces,
were dancing to the sound of a fiddle. It was the pleasantest sight that
Daffydowndilly had yet met with, and it comforted him for all his
disappointments.
"O, let us stop here," cried he to his companion; "for Mr. Toil will never
dare to show his face where there is a fiddler, and where people are
dancing and making merry. We shall be quite safe here!"
But these last words died away upon Daffydowndilly's tongue; for,
happening to cast his eyes on the fiddler, whom should be behold again,
but the likeness of Mr. Toil, holding a fiddle-bow instead of a birch
rod, and flourishing it with as much ease and dexterity as if he had been
a fiddler all his life! He had somewhat the air of a Frenchman, but
still looked exactly like the old schoolmaster; and Daffydowndilly even
fancied that he nodded and winked at him, and made signs for him to join
in the dance.
"O dear me!" whispered he, turning pale. "It seems as if there was
nobody but Mr. Toil in | 1,140.645028 |
2023-11-16 18:36:04.9192920 | 7,436 | 115 |
Produced by Wallace McLean, Hemantkumar N Garach and the
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Lectures and Essays
BY
THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1910
THE WORKS OF THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY.
THE LIFE AND WORKS OF THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY, F.R.S. _Eversley Series_.
Twelve vols. Globe 8vo, 4s. net each.
VOL. I. METHOD AND RESULTS.
II. DARWINIANA.
III. SCIENCE AND EDUCATION.
IV. SCIENCE AND HEBREW TRADITION.
V. SCIENCE AND CHRISTIAN TRADITION.
VI. HUME, WITH HELPS TO THE STUDY OF BERKELEY.
VII. MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE.
VIII. DISCOURSES, BIOLOGICAL AND GEOLOGICAL.
IX. EVOLUTION AND ETHICS, AND OTHER ESSAYS.
X. }
XI. } THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF PROFESSOR HUXLEY.
XII. }
* * * * *
APHORISMS AND REFLECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF T.H. HUXLEY. Selected by
HENRIETTA A. HUXLEY. With Portrait. Pott 8vo, _2s. 6d._ net. Also cloth
elegant, _2s. 6d._ net. Limp Leather, _3s. 6d._ net. _Golden Treasury
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INTRODUCTORY PRIMER OF SCIENCE. Pott 8vo, _1s._
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Men of Letters._
By Prof. T.H. HUXLEY, assisted by Prof. H.N. MARTIN.
A COURSE OF ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PRACTICAL BIOLOGY. Revised and
extended by G.B. HOWES and D.H. SCOTT. Crown 8vo, _10s. 6d._
MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON.
LECTURES AND ESSAYS
BY
THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON 1910
CONTENTS.
PAGE
AUTOBIOGRAPHY 5
LECTURES ON EVOLUTION 11
ON THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF LIFE 45
NATURALISM AND SUPERNATURALISM 57
THE VALUE OF WITNESS TO THE MIRACULOUS 71
AGNOSTICISM 83
THE CHRISTIAN TRADITION IN RELATION TO JUDAIC
CHRISTIANITY 96
AGNOSTICISM AND CHRISTIANITY 108
_First Edition, February_ 1902.
_Reprinted, December_ 1902, 1903, 1904, 1910.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
I was born about eight o'clock in the morning on the 4th of May, 1825,
at Ealing, which was, at that time, as quiet a little country village
as could be found within half-a-dozen miles of Hyde Park Corner. Now it
is a suburb of London with, I believe, 30,000 inhabitants. My father was
one of the masters in a large semi-public school which at one time had a
high reputation. I am not aware that any portents preceded my arrival in
this world, but, in my childhood, I remember hearing a traditional
account of the manner in which I lost the chance of an endowment of
great practical value. The windows of my mother's room were open, in
consequence of the unusual warmth of the weather. For the same reason,
probably, a neighbouring beehive had swarmed, and the new colony,
pitching on the window-sill, was making its way into the room when the
horrified nurse shut down the sash. If that well-meaning woman had only
abstained from her ill-timed interference, the swarm might have settled
on my lips, and I should have been endowed with that mellifluous
eloquence which, in this country, leads far more surely than worth,
capacity, or honest work, to the highest places in Church and State. But
the opportunity was lost, and I have been obliged to content myself
through life with saying what I mean in the plainest of plain language,
than which, I suppose, there is no habit more ruinous to a man's
prospects of advancement.
Why I was christened Thomas Henry I do not know; but it is a curious
chance that my parents should have fixed for my usual denomination upon
the name of that particular Apostle with whom I have always felt most
sympathy. Physically and mentally I am the son of my mother so
completely--even down to peculiar movements of the hands, which made
their appearance in me as I reached the age she had when I noticed
them--that I can hardly find any trace of my father in myself, except an
inborn faculty for drawing, which unfortunately, in my case, has never
been cultivated, a hot temper, and that amount of tenacity of purpose
which unfriendly observers sometimes call obstinacy.
My mother was a slender brunette, of an emotional and energetic
temperament, and possessed of the most piercing black eyes I ever saw in
a woman's head. With no more education than other women of the middle
classes in her day, she had an excellent mental capacity. Her most
distinguishing characteristic, however, was rapidity of thought. If one
ventured to suggest she had not taken much time to arrive at any
conclusion, she would say, "I cannot help it, things flash across me."
That peculiarity has been passed on to me in full strength; it has often
stood me in good stead; it has sometimes played me sad tricks, and it
has always been a danger. But, after all, if my time were to come over
again, there is nothing I would less willingly part with than my
inheritance of mother wit.
I have next to nothing to say about my childhood. In later years my
mother, looking at me almost reproachfully, would sometimes say, "Ah!
you were such a pretty boy!" whence I had no difficulty in concluding
that I had not fulfilled my early promise in the matter of looks. In
fact, I have a distinct recollection of certain curls of which I was
vain, and of a conviction that I closely resembled that handsome,
courtly gentleman, Sir Herbert Oakley, who was vicar of our parish, and
who was as a god to us country folk, because he was occasionally visited
by the then Prince George of Cambridge. I remember turning my pinafore
wrong side forwards in order to represent a surplice, and preaching to
my mother's maids in the kitchen as nearly as possible in Sir Herbert's
manner one Sunday morning when the rest of the family were at church.
That is the earliest indication I can call to mind of the strong
clerical affinities which my friend Mr. Herbert Spencer has always
ascribed to me, though I fancy they have for the most part remained in a
latent state.
My regular school training was of the briefest, perhaps fortunately, for
though my way of life has made me acquainted with all sorts and
conditions of men, from the highest to the lowest, I deliberately affirm
that the society I fell into at school was the worst I have ever known.
We boys were average lads, with much the same inherent capacity for good
and evil as any others; but the people who were set over us cared about
as much for our intellectual and moral welfare as if they were
baby-farmers. We were left to the operation of the struggle for
existence among ourselves, and bullying was the least of the ill
practices current among us. Almost the only cheerful reminiscence in
connection with the place which arises in my mind is that of a battle I
had with one of my classmates, who had bullied me until I could stand it
no longer. I was a very slight lad, but there was a wild-cat element in
me which, when roused, made up for lack of weight, and I licked my
adversary effectually. However, one of my first experiences of the
extremely rough-and-ready nature of justice, as exhibited by the course
of things in general, arose out of the fact that I--the victor--had a
black eye, while he--the vanquished--had none, so that I got into
disgrace and he did not. We made it up, and thereafter I was unmolested.
One of the greatest shocks I ever received in my life was to be told a
dozen years afterwards by the groom who brought me my horse in a
stable-yard in Sydney that he was my quondam antagonist. He had a long
story of family misfortune to account for his position, but at that time
it was necessary to deal very cautiously with mysterious strangers in
New South Wales, and on inquiry I found that the unfortunate young man
had not only been "sent out," but had undergone more than one colonial
conviction.
As I grew older, my great desire was to be a mechanical engineer, but
the fates were against this, and, while very young, I commenced the
study of medicine under a medical brother-in-law. But, though the
Institute of Mechanical Engineers would certainly not own me, I am not
sure that I have not all along been a sort of mechanical engineer _in
partibus infidelium_. I am now occasionally horrified to think how very
little I ever knew or cared about medicine as the art of healing. The
only part of my professional course which really and deeply interested
me was physiology, which is the mechanical engineering of living
machines; and, notwithstanding that natural science has been my proper
business, I am afraid there is very little of the genuine naturalist in
me. I never collected anything, and species work was always a burden to
me; what I cared for was the architectural and engineering part of the
business, the working out the wonderful unity of plan in the thousands
and thousands of diverse living constructions, and the modifications of
similar apparatuses to serve diverse ends. The extraordinary attraction
I felt towards the study of the intricacies of living structure nearly
proved fatal to me at the outset. I was a mere boy--I think between
thirteen and fourteen years of age--when I was taken by some older
student friends of mine to the first _post-mortem_ examination I ever
attended. All my life I have been most unfortunately sensitive to the
disagreeables which attend anatomical pursuits, but on this occasion my
curiosity overpowered all other feelings, and I spent two or three hours
in gratifying it. I did not cut myself, and none of the ordinary
symptoms of dissection-poison supervened, but poisoned I was somehow,
and I remember sinking into a strange state of apathy. By way of a last
chance, I was sent to the care of some good, kind people, friends of my
father's, who lived in a farmhouse in the heart of Warwickshire. I
remember staggering from my bed to the window on the bright spring
morning after my arrival, and throwing open the casement. Life seemed to
come back on the wings of the breeze, and to this day the faint odour of
wood-smoke, like that which floated across the farm-yard in the early
morning, is as good to me as the "sweet south upon a bed of violets." I
soon recovered, but for years I suffered from occasional paroxysms of
internal pain, and from that time my constant friend, hypochondriacal
dyspepsia, commenced his half century of co-tenancy of my fleshly
tabernacle.
Looking back on my "Lehrjahre," I am sorry to say that I do not think
that any account of my doings as a student would tend to edification. In
fact, I should distinctly warn ingenuous youth to avoid imitating my
example. I worked extremely hard when it pleased me, and when it did
not--which was a very frequent case--I was extremely idle (unless making
caricatures of one's pastors and masters is to be called a branch of
industry), or else wasted my energies in wrong directions. I read
everything I could lay hands upon, including novels, and took up all
sorts of pursuits to drop them again quite as speedily. No doubt it was
very largely my own fault, but the only instruction from which I ever
obtained the proper effect of education was that which I received from
Mr. Wharton Jones, who was the lecturer on physiology at the Charing
Cross School of Medicine. The extent and precision of his knowledge
impressed me greatly, and the severe exactness of his method of
lecturing was quite to my taste. I do not know that I have ever felt so
much respect for anybody as a teacher before or since. I worked hard to
obtain his approbation, and he was extremely kind and helpful to the
youngster who, I am afraid, took up more of his time than he had any
right to do. It was he who suggested the publication of my first
scientific paper--a very little one--in the _Medical Gazette_ of 1845,
and most kindly corrected the literary faults which abounded in it,
short as it was; for at that time, and for many years afterwards,
I detested the trouble of writing, and would take no pains over it.
It was in the early spring of 1846, that having finished my obligatory
medical studies and passed the first M.B. examination at the London
University--though I was still too young to qualify at the College of
Surgeons--I was talking to a fellow-student (the present eminent
physician, Sir Joseph Fayrer), and wondering what I should do to meet
the imperative necessity for earning my own bread, when my friend
suggested that I should write to Sir William Burnett, at that time
Director-General for the Medical Service of the Navy, for an
appointment. I thought this rather a strong thing to do, as Sir William
was personally unknown to me, but my cheery friend would not listen to
my scruples, so I went to my lodgings and wrote the best letter I could
devise. A few days afterwards I received the usual official circular of
acknowledgment, but at the bottom there was written an instruction to
call at Somerset House on such a day. I thought that looked like
business, so at the appointed time I called and sent in my card, while I
waited in Sir William's ante-room. He was a tall, shrewd-looking old
gentleman, with a broad Scotch accent--and I think I see him now as he
entered with my card in his hand. The first thing he did was to return
it, with the frugal reminder that I should probably find it useful on
some other occasion. The second was to ask whether I was an Irishman. I
suppose the air of modesty about my appeal must have struck him. I
satisfied the Director-General that I was English to the backbone, and
he made some inquiries as to my student career, finally desiring me to
hold myself ready for examination. Having passed this, I was in Her
Majesty's Service, and entered on the books of Nelson's old ship, the
_Victory_, for duty at Haslar Hospital, about a couple of months after I
made my application.
My official chief at Haslar was a very remarkable person, the late Sir
John Richardson, an excellent naturalist, and far-famed as an
indomitable Arctic traveller. He was a silent, reserved man, outside the
circle of his family and intimates; and, having a full share of youthful
vanity, I was extremely disgusted to find that "Old John," as we
irreverent youngsters called him, took not the slightest notice of my
worshipful self either the first time I attended him, as it was my duty
to do, or for some weeks afterwards. I am afraid to think of the lengths
to which my tongue may have run on the subject of the churlishness of
the chief, who was, in truth, one of the kindest-hearted and most
considerate of men. But one day, as I was crossing the hospital square,
Sir John stopped me, and heaped coals of fire on my head by telling me
that he had tried to get me one of the resident appointments, much
coveted by the assistant-surgeons, but that the Admiralty had put in
another man. "However," said he, "I mean to keep you here till I can get
you something you will like," and turned upon his heel without waiting
for the thanks I stammered out. That explained how it was I had not been
packed off to the West Coast of Africa like some of my juniors, and why,
eventually, I remained altogether seven months at Haslar.
After a long interval, during which "Old John" ignored my existence
almost as completely as before, he stopped me again as we met in a
casual way, and describing the service on which the _Rattlesnake_ was
likely to be employed, said that Captain Owen Stanley, who was to
command the ship, had asked him to recommend an assistant surgeon who
knew something of science; would I like that? Of course I jumped at the
offer. "Very well, I give you leave; go to London at once and see
Captain Stanley." I went, saw my future commander, who was very civil to
me, and promised to ask that I should be appointed to his ship, as in
due time I was. It is a singular thing that, during the few months of my
stay at Haslar, I had among my messmates two future Directors-General of
the Medical Service of the Navy (Sir Alexander Armstrong and Sir John
Watt-Reid), with the present President of the College of Physicians and
my kindest of doctors, Sir Andrew Clark.
Life on board Her Majesty's ships in those days was a very different
affair from what it is now, and ours was exceptionally rough, as we were
often many months without receiving letters or seeing any civilised
people but ourselves. In exchange, we had the interest of being about
the last voyagers, I suppose, to whom it could be possible to meet with
people who knew nothing of fire-arms--as we did on the south Coast of
New Guinea--and of making acquaintance with a variety of interesting
savage and semi-civilised people. But, apart from experience of this
kind and the opportunities offered for scientific work, to me,
personally, the cruise was extremely valuable. It was good for me to
live under sharp discipline; to be down on the realities of existence by
living on bare necessaries; to find out how extremely well worth living
life seemed to be when one woke up from a night's rest on a soft plank,
with the sky for canopy and cocoa and weevilly biscuit the sole prospect
for breakfast; and, more especially, to learn to work for the sake of
what I got for myself out of it, even if it all went to the bottom and I
along with it. My brother officers were as good fellows as sailors ought
to be and generally are, but, naturally, they neither knew nor cared
anything about my pursuits, nor understood why I should be so zealous in
pursuit of the objects which my friends, the middies, christened
"Buffons," after the title conspicuous on a volume of the "Suites a
Buffon," which stood on my shelf in the chart room.
During the four years of our absence, I sent home communication after
communication to the "Linnean Society;" with the same result as that
obtained by Noah when he sent the raven out of his ark. Tired at last of
hearing nothing about them, I determined to do or die, and in 1849 I
drew up a more elaborate paper and forwarded it to the Royal Society.
This was my dove, if I had only known it. But owing to the movements of
the ship, I heard nothing of that either until my return to England in
the latter end of the year 1850, when I found that it was printed and
published, and that a huge packet of separate copies awaited me. When I
hear some of my young friends complain of want of sympathy and
encouragement, I am inclined to think that my naval life was not the
least valuable part of my education.
Three years after my return were occupied by a battle between my
scientific friends on the one hand and the Admiralty on the other, as to
whether the latter ought, or ought not, to act up to the spirit of a
pledge they had given to encourage officers who had done scientific work
by contributing to the expense of publishing mine. At last the
Admiralty, getting tired, I suppose, cut short the discussion by
ordering me to join a ship, which thing I declined to do, and as
Rastignac, in the "Pere Goriot," says to Paris, I said to London, "_a
nous deux_." I desired to obtain a Professorship of either Physiology or
Comparative Anatomy, and as vacancies occurred I applied, but in vain.
My friend, Professor Tyndall, and I were candidates at the same time, he
for the Chair of Physics and I for that of Natural History in the
University of Toronto, which, fortunately, as it turned out, would not
look at either of us. I say fortunately, not from any lack of respect
for Toronto, but because I soon made up my mind that London was the
place for me, and hence I have steadily declined the inducements to
leave it, which have at various times been offered. At last, in 1854, on
the translation of my warm friend Edward Forbes, to Edinburgh, Sir Henry
De la Beche, the Director-General of the Geological Survey, offered me
the post Forbes vacated of Paleontologist and Lecturer on Natural
History. I refused the former point blank, and accepted the latter only
provisionally, telling Sir Henry that I did not care for fossils, and
that I should give up Natural History as soon as I could get a
physiological post. But I held the office for thirty-one years, and a
large part of my work has been paleontological.
At that time I disliked public speaking, and had a firm conviction that
I should break down every time I opened my mouth. I believe I had every
fault a speaker could have (except talking at random or indulging in
rhetoric), when I spoke to the first important audience I ever
addressed, on a Friday evening: at the Royal Institution, in 1852. Yet,
I must confess to having been guilty, _malgre moi_, of as much public
speaking as most of my contemporaries, and for the last ten years it
ceased to be so much of a bugbear to me. I used to pity myself for
having to go through this training, but I am now more disposed to
compassionate the unfortunate audiences, especially my ever-friendly
hearers at the Royal Institution, who were the subjects of my oratorical
experiments.
The last thing that it would be proper for me to do would be to speak of
the work of my life, or to say at the end of the day whether I think I
have earned my wages or not. Men are said to be partial judges of
themselves. Young men may be; I doubt if old men are. Life seems
terribly foreshortened as they look back, and the mountain they set
themselves to climb in youth turns out to be a mere spur of immeasurably
higher ranges when, with failing breath, they reach the top. But if I
may speak of the objects I have had more or less definitely in view
since I began the ascent of my hillock, they are briefly these: To
promote the increase of natural knowledge and to forward the application
of scientific methods of investigation to all the problems of life to
the best of my ability, in the conviction which has grown with my growth
and strengthened with my strength, that there is no alleviation for the
sufferings of mankind except veracity of thought and of action, and the
resolute facing of the world as it is when the garment of make-believe
by which pious hands have hidden its uglier features is stripped off.
It is with this intent that I have subordinated any reasonable, or
unreasonable, ambition for scientific fame which I may have permitted
myself to entertain to other ends; to the popularisation of science; to
the development and organisation of scientific education; to the
endless series of battles and skirmishes over evolution; and to untiring
opposition to that ecclesiastical spirit, that clericalism, which in
England, as everywhere else, and to whatever denomination it may belong,
is the deadly enemy of science.
In striving for the attainment of these objects, I have been but one
among many, and I shall be well content to be remembered, or even not
remembered, as such. Circumstances, among which I am proud to reckon the
devoted kindness of many friends, have led to my occupation of various
prominent positions, among which the Presidency of the Royal Society is
the highest. It would be mock modesty on my part, with these and other
scientific honours which have been bestowed upon me, to pretend that I
have not succeeded in the career which I have followed, rather because I
was driven into it than of my own free will; but I am afraid I should
not count even these things as marks of success if I could not hope that
I had somewhat helped that movement of opinion which has been called the
New Reformation.
LECTURES AND ESSAYS
LECTURES ON EVOLUTION
[NEW YORK; 1876]
I
THE THREE HYPOTHESES RESPECTING THE HISTORY OF NATURE
We live in and form part of a system of things of immense diversity and
perplexity, which we call Nature; and it is a matter of the deepest
interest to all of us that we should form just conceptions of the
constitution of that system and of its past history. With relation to
this universe, man is, in extent, little more than a mathematical point;
in duration but a fleeting shadow; he is a mere reed shaken in the winds
of force. But as Pascal long ago remarked, although a mere reed, he is a
thinking reed; and in virtue of that wonderful capacity of thought, he
has the power of framing for himself a symbolic conception of the
universe, which, although doubtless highly imperfect and inadequate as a
picture of the great whole, is yet sufficient to serve him as a chart
for the guidance of his practical affairs. It has taken long ages of
toilsome and often fruitless labour to enable man to look steadily at
the shifting scenes of the phantasmagoria of Nature, to notice what is
fixed among her fluctuations, and what is regular among her apparent
irregularities; and it is only comparatively lately, within the last few
centuries, that the conception of a universal order and of a definite
course of things, which we term the course of Nature, has emerged.
But, once originated, the conception of the constancy of the order of
Nature has become the dominant idea of modern thought. To any person who
is familiar with the facts upon which that conception is based, and is
competent to estimate their significance, it has ceased to be
conceivable that chance should have any place in the universe, or that
events should depend upon any but the natural sequence of cause and
effect. We have come to look upon the present as the child of the past
and as the parent of the future; and, as we have excluded chance from a
place in the universe, so we ignore, even as a possibility, the notion
of any interference with the order of Nature. Whatever may be men's
speculative doctrines, it is quite certain that every intelligent person
guides his life and risks his fortune upon the belief that the order of
Nature is constant, and that the chain of natural causation is never
broken.
In fact, no belief which we entertain has so complete a logical basis as
that to which I have just referred. It tacitly underlies every process
of reasoning; it is the foundation of every act of the will. It is based
upon the broadest induction, and it is verified by the most constant,
regular, and universal of deductive processes. But we must recollect
that any human belief, however broad its basis, however defensible it
may seem, is, after all, only a probable belief, and that our widest and
safest generalisations are simply statements of the highest degree of
probability. Though we are quite clear about the constancy of the order
of Nature, at the present time, and in the present state of things, it
by no means necessarily follows that we are justified in expanding this
generalisation into the infinite past, and in denying, absolutely, that
there may have been a time when Nature did not follow a fixed order,
when the relations of cause and effect were not definite, and when
extra-natural agencies interfered with the general course of Nature.
Cautious men will allow that a universe so different from that which we
know may have existed; just as a very candid thinker may admit that a
world in which two and two do not make four, and in which two straight
lines do inclose a space, may exist. But the same caution which forces
the admission of such possibilities demands a great deal of evidence
before it recognises them to be anything more substantial. And when it
is asserted that, so many thousand years ago, events occurred in a
manner utterly foreign to and inconsistent with the existing laws of
Nature, men who without being particularly cautious are simply honest
thinkers, unwilling to deceive themselves or delude others, ask for
trustworthy evidence of the fact.
Did things so happen or did they not? This is a historical question, and
one the answer to which must be sought in the same way as the solution
of any other historical problem.
* * * * *
So far as I know, there are only three hypotheses which ever have been
entertained, or which well can be entertained, respecting the past
history of Nature. I will, in the first place, state the hypotheses, and
then I will consider what evidence bearing upon them is in our
possession, and by what light of criticism that evidence is to be
interpreted.
Upon the first hypothesis, the assumption is, that phenomena of Nature
similar to those exhibited by the present world have always existed; in
other words, that the universe has existed, from all eternity, in what
may be broadly termed its present condition.
The second hypothesis is that the present state of things has had only a
limited duration; and that, at some period in the past, a condition of
the world, essentially similar to that which we now know, came into
existence, without any precedent condition from which it could have
naturally proceeded. The assumption that successive states of Nature
have arisen, each without any relation of natural causation to an
antecedent state, is a mere modification of this second hypothesis.
The third hypothesis also assumes that the present state of things has
had but a limited duration; but it supposes that this state has been
evolved by a natural process from an antecedent state, and that from
another, and so on; and, on this hypothesis, the attempt to assign any
limit to the series of past changes is, usually, given up.
It is so needful to form clear and distinct notions of what is really
meant by each of these hypotheses that I will ask you to imagine what,
according to each, would have been visible to a spectator of the events
which constitute the history of the earth. On the first hypothesis,
however far back in time that spectator might be placed, he would see a
world essentially, though perhaps not in all its details, similar to
that which now exists. The animals which existed would be the ancestors
of those which now live, and similar to them; the plants, in like
manner, would be such as we know; and the mountains, plains, and waters
would foreshadow the salient features of our present land and water.
This view was held more or less distinctly, sometimes combined with the
notion of recurrent cycles of change, in ancient times; and its
influence has been felt down to the present day. It is worthy of remark
that it is a hypothesis which is not inconsistent with the doctrine of
Uniformitarianism, with which geologists are familiar. That doctrine was
held by Hutton, and in his earlier days by Lyell. Hutton was struck by
the | 1,140.939332 |
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THE
TORN BIBLE
OR
_HUBERT'S BEST FRIEND_
BY
ALICE SOMERTON
AUTHOR OF "LAYTON CROFT" ETC.
LONDON
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.
AND NEW YORK
TO GLANVILLE
AND
HIS EIGHT SCHOOLFELLOWS.
Perhaps, dear boys, you wonder why I should have dedicated this little
book to you: it is that you may feel a deeper interest in it, and
imbibe, from reading it, an earnest love and reverence for your Bible,
which, like a good angel, can guide you safely through the world as
long as you live. Like Hubert's mother, I ask you to read a portion
every day; and, whatever be the battle of life you may have to fight,
may God's blessing attend you, making you humble towards Him, dutiful
to your parents, and a blessing to mankind.
Believe me,
Yours affectionately,
ALICE SOMERTON.
THE TORN BIBLE.
CHAPTER I.
HUBERT'S DEPARTURE FROM HOME.
May thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! * * * *
* * * What heaven more will
That these may furnish and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell.--SHAKESPEARE.
The rural and picturesque village of Hulney, in the north of England,
is a charming place; it is almost surrounded with well-wooded hills,
and the little rivulets, which ever murmur down their sides, run into
the limpid stream along the banks of which most of the cottages are
built.
At the north end of the village, on the <DW72> of a hill, is the church,
so thickly covered with ivy that the only portions of the stonework
visible are part of the ancient tower and the chancel window.
Legend and historic fact hang their mantle round this old church.
History tells us that the brave, yet often cruel, Margaret, wife of
Henry VI., fled there after a defeat in one of her battles; and it is
also recorded that one hundred of the heroes of Flodden Field rested
there on their return from the victory. Modern times have added to the
interest which clings to this old place, and one thing especially which
draws attention will form the subject of this story.
In that old churchyard, where the children of many generations lie side
by side, there is many a touching or interesting record; but the
stranger ever lingers the longest near seven white grave-stones, all
bearing the name of Goodwin. Upon the one which has the most recent
date is the following inscription:--"Sacred to the Memory of Hubert
Goodwin, aged seventy years;" and below this a book, partly destroyed,
with several of the loose leaves, is carved upon the stone: and though,
perhaps, this description of it may not be striking, the exquisite
carving of that destroyed book is such that people ask its meaning, and
they are told that it is a "torn Bible."
Hubert Goodwin, the tenant of that grave, was the eldest of six
children, blessed with pious and affectionate parents, well to do in
the world, and descended from a family of some distinction.
Great pains were bestowed upon Hubert's education, as he grew up to
youth; but from his birth he was of such a passionate turn, and at
times so ungovernable, that he was the source of all the sorrow that
for many years fell to the lot of his parents: he was different to their
other children, and many a time when reproof had been necessary, and the
little wayward one, after a troubled day, had retired to rest, his
mother's heart, still heavy, led her softly to the bed where he lay
sleeping, and there, kneeling down, she would commend him again, with
perhaps a deeper earnestness, to that One who knew all her trouble, and
whom she knew could alone help her. Once the boy awoke as his mother
knelt beside him, and, as though in answer to her prayer that his heart
might be changed, he burst into tears, and, throwing his arms round her
neck, expressed deep sorrow at having grieved her, and promised to try
and do better. Poor mother! her joy was brief; in a very short time he
was as undutiful and rebellious as ever, and so he continued until he
reached the age of twelve years, when, as he had determined upon being
a soldier, his parents, much against their wish, sent him to a military
school, to be educated for the army.
A year rolled away, and all the accounts that came from the master of
Hubert's school informed his parents that he was a bold, unruly boy--a
great deal of trouble to his teachers--but he would probably tame down
a little in time, and do very well for the profession he had chosen.
Many and many a time these parents wept over the letters which spoke
thus of their son: they wished him to be a good soldier--one fearing
and serving God--and they oftentimes repeated their tale of sorrow to
their good pastor, in whom they were wont to confide; but his meed of
comfort was ever the same. What other could he offer? Good man, he
knelt with them, directed them to the source of true comfort, the Lord
Jesus Christ, and tried to lighten their hearts' burden by drawing them
nearer to the hand that afflicted them.
When Hubert had been three years at school, he obtained, through the
influence of friends, a cadetship in one of the regiments belonging to
the East India Company; he was still only a boy, and his parents had
rather he had not gone entirely away from them so soon, for they felt,
and with some truth, that while he was at school he was at least under
their protection, if not their guidance. Hubert, however, came home to
them a fine noble-looking youth, delighted at the prospect before him,
and as proud and vain as possible at being at last really a soldier. How
much his parents loved him, and how they tried to persuade themselves
that the vivacity and recklessness he showed arose more from the
hilarity of a heart buoyant with youthful spirits, than from an evil
nature! but when, on the first Sabbath after his return home, he scoffed
at the manner in which they observed that holy day, another arrow
pierced their bosoms, another bitter drop fell into their cup of sorrow.
During the three years Hubert had been at school, his parents had
gradually observed that, though he did perhaps attend to most of their
wishes, there was a careless sort of indifference about him; and though
they were always glad to see him in his vacations, they were as glad to
see him go back to school, because their home was more peaceful, and
every one was happier when he was not there. Think of this, boys,
whoever you may be, that are reading this story, and when you spend a
short time with those kind parents who love you so much, let them see,
by your kindness and willing obedience, that you wish to love them as
much as they love you; and never let them have to say that their home is
happier when you are not there: no, rather let them rejoice at your
coming home, welcome you, and think of you as the bright light that
cheers every one in their dwelling; and if they can do that, be assured
that God will bless you.
Only a fortnight's leave of absence had been granted to Hubert, and one
week had gone. The way in which he had spoken of sacred things, and of
the manner in which they had observed the Sabbath, roused his mother;
and though her reproof was gentle, she was earnest, and tried all she
could to influence him to better thoughts. She told him of the many
snares and dangers he would have to encounter, and the many temptations
that ever lurk along the path of youth; of the strange country to which
he was going; and of the doubly incurred danger of going forth in his
own strength. He listened as she talked to him; but along that way which
she so dreaded, all his hope and young imagination were centred, and he
grew restless and impatient to be gone.
They were busy in Hubert's home; brothers and sisters all helped to
forward the things necessary for their eldest brother's future comfort,
and they sat later than usual round the fire the last night of his stay
with them; for everything was ready, and the mail-coach would take him
from them early on the morrow. The ship which was to convey Hubert to
India was to sail from Portsmouth, and as his father was in ill-health,
there was some concern in the family circle about his having to take the
journey alone; he promised, however, to write immediately he reached the
vessel, and so, with many a kiss and many a prayer, the family separated
for the night.
It was a lovely autumn morning in the year 1792; everything round
Hubert's home looked beautiful, and his brothers and sisters, as they
clustered around him, and gave him their last kisses, each extorted a
promise that he would write a long | 1,141.03667 |
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* * * * *
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as
faithfully as possible; please see detailed list of printing issues at
the end of the text.
* * * * *
ALCOHOL
A DANGEROUS AND UNNECESSARY MEDICINE
HOW AND WHY
What Medical Writers Say
BY
MRS. MARTHA M. ALLEN
Superintendent of the Department of Medical Temperance
for the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union
Published by the
DEPARTMENT OF MEDICAL TEMPERANCE OF THE
NATIONAL WOMAN'S CHRISTIAN TEMPERANCE UNION
MARCELLUS, NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1900.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION 5
PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION 7
CHAPTER I.
HISTORY OF THE STUDY OF ALCOHOL.
Discovery of distillation--First American investigator of
effects of alcohol--Medical Declarations--Sir B. W.
Richardson's researches--Scientific Temperance Instruction
in American Schools--Committee of Fifty 9
CHAPTER II.
THE WOMAN'S CHRISTIAN TEMPERANCE UNION IN
OPPOSITION TO ALCOHOL AS MEDICINE.
How the Opposition began--Memorial to International
Medical Congress--Origin of Medical Temperance
Department--Objects of the department--Public agitation
against patent medicines originated by the department--Laws
of Georgia, Alabama and Kansas on Medical
prescription of alcohol 21
CHAPTER III.
ALCOHOL AS A PRODUCER OF DISEASE.
Alcohol a poison--Sudden deaths from brandy--Changes
in liver, kidneys, heart, blood-vessels and nerves caused
by alcohol--Beer and wine as harmful as the stronger
drinks--Alcohol causes indigestion--Other diseases
caused by alcohol--Deaths from alcoholism in Switzerland 28
CHAPTER IV.
TEMPERANCE HOSPITALS.
The London Temperance Hospital--Methods of treatment--The Frances
E. Willard Temperance Hospital, Chicago--"As a beverage" in the
pledge--Address by Miss Frances E. Willard at opening of
hospital--The Red Cross Hospital--Clara Barton and non-alcoholic
medication--Reports of treatment in Red Cross Hospital--Use of
Alcohol declining in other hospitals 37
CHAPTER V.
THE EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL UPON THE HUMAN BODY.
The body composed of cells--Effect of alcohol on cells--Alcohol
and Digestion--Effects on the blood--The heart--The liver--The
kidneys--Incipient Bright's disease recovered from by total
abstinence--<DW44>s oxidation and elimination of waste
matters--Lengthens duration of sickness and increases mortality 58
CHAPTER VI.
ALCOHOL AS MEDICINE.
Medical use of alcohol a bulwark of the liquor traffic--Alcohol
not a Food--Alcohol reduces temperature--Food principle of grains
and fruits destroyed by fermentation--Alcohol not a
Stimulant--Experiments proving this--Alcohol not a
tonic--Professor Atwater on Alcohol as Food 96
CHAPTER VII.
ALCOHOL IN PHARMACY.
Strong tinctures rouse desire for drink in reformed
inebriates--Glycerine and acetic acid to preserve
drugs--Non-alcohol tinctures in use at London Temperance
Hospital--Sale of liquor in drug-stores condemned by pharmacists 131
CHAPTER VIII.
DISEASES, AND THEIR TREATMENT WITHOUT ALCOHOL.
Alcoholic Craving--Anaemia--Apoplexy--Boils and
Carbuncle--Catarrh--Hay-Fever--Colds--Colic--Cholera--Cholera
Infantum--Consumption--Displacements--Debility--Diarrhoea--
Dysentery--Dyspepsia--Fainting--Fits--Flatulence--Headache--
Hemorrhage--Heart Disease--Heart Failure--Insomnia--La
Grippe--Measles--Malaria--Neuralgia--Nausea--Pneumonia--Pain After
Food--Snake-bite--Rheumatism--Spasms--Shock--Sudden
Illness--Sunstroke--Typhoid Fever--Vomiting 140
CHAPTER IX.
ALCOHOL AND NURSING MOTHERS.
Beer not good for nursing mothers--Helpful diet--Opinions of
medical men--Analysis of milk of a temperate woman--Of a drinking
woman--Advice of Dr. James Edmunds, of the Lying-In Hospital,
London--How to feed the baby--Case of a young mother who used
beer--Nathan S. Davis on beer and gin 234
CHAPTER X.
COMPARATIVE DEATH-RATES WITH AND WITHOUT THE USE OF ALCOHOL.
Fewer deaths in smallpox hospitals without alcohol--200 cases of
scarlet fever without alcohol--Non-alcoholic treatment of fevers
with less than 5 per cent. death-rate--Report of cases in English
and Scotch hospitals--340 cases of typhus--London Lancet articles
on typhoid--Mercy Hospital, Chicago--Death-rates in pneumonia and
typhoid in large hospitals--Sir B. W. Richardson's report of
practice 247
CHAPTER XI.
REASONS WHY ALCOHOL IS DANGEROUS AS MEDICINE.
Researches of Abbott--Vital Resistance lowered by
alcohol--Experiments upon Urinary Toxicity--Effect of alcohol upon
the guardian-cells of the body--Dr. Sims Woodhead on
immunity--Delearde's experiments at the Pasteur Institute--Dr. A.
Pearce Gould on alcohol and cancer--Delirium in illness caused by
alcohol 262
CHAPTER XII.
WHY DOCTORS STILL PRESCRIBE ALCOHOLICS.
Public often demand it--Lack of knowledge of true nature of
alcohol--Alcohol given undeserved credit for recoveries--Use of
alcohol results from custom--Education of the people in teachings
of non-alcoholic physicians necessary--Prescription of alcohol a
matter of routine--Two examples 291
CHAPTER XIII.
ALCOHOLIC PROPRIETARY OR "PATENT" MEDICINES.
The Pure Food Law--The guarantee--Newspaper opposition to the
law--Headache remedies--Fake testimonials--Dangers of soothing
syrups and morphine cough syrups--Fraud orders issued by
Post-Office Department--Internal Revenue Department and Patent
Medicines--Proprietary "Foods" strongly alcoholic--Alcoholic
Cod-Liver Oil preparations--Australia's Royal Commission on Patent
Medicines--Committee on Pharmacy analyses--Malt extracts--Coca
Wines--Advertising, the strength of the Nostrum business--An
effectual remedy 299
CHAPTER XIV.
DRUGGING.
Drugs do not cure disease--Nature cures--Opinions of drug
medication of prominent physicians--La grippe caused by drug
taking--Coal-tar drugs--Quinine--Sir Frederick Treves on disuse of
drugs--People demand drugs of physicians--Mothers make drug
victims of their children--Habit-producing drugs--Causes of
drug-taking--How to be well 335
CHAPTER XV.
TESTIMONIES OF PHYSICIANS AGAINST ALCOHOLIC MEDICATION.
No need for substitutes for alcohol--Alcohol hides symptoms of
disease--Responsibility of physicians--Opinions of many teachers
in medical colleges--Hot milk better than alcohol--_Journal of the
American Medical Association_ on researches of Abbott and
Laitinen--Resolution against alcohol of West Virginia Medical
Society--Dr. Knox Bond on Scarlet Fever--Metchnikoff on white
blood-cells--Kassowitz describes his treatment of fevers--Sims
Woodhead's opinions--Opinions of German Physicians--Dr. Harvey
blames medical profession for careless use of alcohol and
opium--Use of Alcohol declining rapidly in medical practice 356
CHAPTER XVI.
RECENT RESEARCHES UPON ALCOHOL.
Experiments of Laitinen--Resistance of blood-cells to disease
lowered by alcohol--International Congress on Alcoholism, London,
1909--Alcohol and Immunity--Effect of Alcohol Drinking on Human
Off-spring--Researches of Kraepelin and Aschaffenberg--Economic
losses by reduced work through beer and wine drinking--Researches
of Dr. Reid Hunt--Mice given alcohol killed by small doses of
poison--Difference in effect of alcohol and starch
foods--Chittenden on food theory of alcohol--Researches of Dr. S.
P. Beebe--Liver impaired by alcohol--Dr. Winfield S. Hall's
interpretation of the researches of Beebe and Hunt--Oxidation of
alcohol by liver a protective action--Researches show that alcohol
is a poison, not a food 392
CHAPTER XVII.
MISCELLANEOUS.
Alcohol Baths--Beverages for the Sick--Tobacco and the
Eyesight--Advertised "Cures" for Drunkenness--How to quit
drinking--Dr. T. D. Crothers' remedy for drink crave--Alcohol and
Children--Alcohol Tested--Beer-Drinking Injurious to Health--Drug
Drinks--Special Directions for Women--Total Abstinence and Life
Insurance--Opinions of Life Insurance Companies on drinkers as
risks 410
INTRODUCTION.
This book is the outcome of many years of study. With the exception of a
few quotations, none of the material has ever before appeared in any
book. The writer has been indebted for years past to many of the
physicians mentioned in the following pages for copies of pamphlets and
magazines, and for newspaper articles, bearing upon the medical study of
alcohol. Indeed, had it not been for the kindly counsels and hearty
co-operation of physicians, she could never have accomplished all that
was laid upon her to do as a state and national superintendent of
Medical Temperance for the Woman's Christian Temperance Union. She is
also under obligation for helps received from the secretaries of several
State Boards of Health, and from eminent chemists and pharmacists.
The object of the book is to put into the hands of the people a
statement of the views regarding the medical properties of alcohol held
by those physicians who make little, or no use of this drug. In most
cases their views are given in their own language, so that the book is,
of necessity, largely a compilation.
It is hoped that while the laity may be glad to peruse these pages
because of the very useful and interesting information to be obtained
from them, the medical profession, also, may be pleased to find, in
brief form, the teachings of some of their most distinguished brethren
upon a question now frequently up for discussion in society meetings.
The writer does not presume to set forth her own opinions upon a
question which is still a subject of dispute among the members of a
learned profession; she simply culls from the writings of those members
of that profession who, having made thorough examination of the claims
of alcohol, have decided that this drug, as ordinarily used, is more
harmful than beneficial, and that medical practice would be upon a
higher plane, were it driven entirely from the pharmacopoeia.
PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
When the first edition of this book was published in 1900, there were
only a few leading physicians either in Europe or America who were ready
to condemn the medical use of alcohol. Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson,
Sims Woodhead, and a few others in England; Forel, Kassowitz and one or
two more on the Continent, and Nathan S. Davis, T. D. Crothers and J. H.
Kellogg, in America, were about all that could be quoted largely as
opposed to alcoholic liquors as remedies in disease. Whisky was then
looked upon as necessary in the treatment of consumption and diphtheria.
Ten years have brought about a great change. There are many American
physicians now willing to admit that they have very little or no use for
alcoholic liquors as remedial agents, and now, instead of recommending
whisky for consumption anti-tuberculosis literature almost everywhere
warns against the use of intoxicating drinks. The use of anti-toxin in
diphtheria has driven out whisky treatment in that disease with markedly
favorable results. Under the whisky treatment death-rates ran up to
fifty-five and sixty per cent.; now the diphtheria death-rate is very
low. Ten years ago many good authorities still ranked alcohol as a
stimulant; now, almost all rank it as a depressant. In England, leading
physicians and surgeons have spoken so strongly against alcohol in the
last few years that the London _Times_, England's leading newspaper,
said: "According to recent developments of scientific opinion, it is not
impossible that a belief in the strengthening and supporting qualities
of alcohol will eventually become | 1,141.136559 |
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Produced by Cindy Horton, Brian Coe, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from images made available by the
HathiTrust Digital Library.)
THE JUDGEMENT
OF VALHALLA
BY
GILBERT FRANKAU
NEW YORK
FEDERAL PRINTING COMPANY
1918
Copyright, 1918
GILBERT FRANKAU
_All rights reserved_
The Judgement of Valhalla
BY GILBERT FRANKAU
_THE DESERTER_
“I’m sorry I done it, Major.”
We bandaged the livid face;
And led him out, ere the wan sun rose,
To die his death of disgrace.
The bolt-heads locked to the cartridge;
The rifles steadied to rest,
As cold stock nestled at colder cheek
And foresight lined on the breast.
“_Fire!_” called the Sergeant-Major.
The muzzles flamed as he spoke:
And the shameless soul of a nameless man
Went up in the cordite-smoke.
_THE EYE AND THE TRUTH_
Up from the fret of the earth-world, through the Seven Circles of
Flame,
With the seven holes in Its tunic for sign of the death-in-shame,
To the little gate of Valhalla the coward-spirit came.
Cold, It crouched in the man-strong wind that sweeps Valhalla’s
floor;
Weak, It pawed and scratched on the wood; and howled, like a dog,
at the Door
Which is shut to the souls who are sped in shame, for ever and
evermore:
For It snuffed the Meat of the Banquet-boards where the Threefold
Killers sit,
Where the Free Beer foams to the tankard-rim, and the Endless Smokes
are lit....
And It saw the Nakéd Eye come out above the lintel-slit.
And now It quailed at Nakéd Eye which judges the naked dead;
And now It snarled at Nakéd Truth that broodeth overhead;
And now It looked to the earth below where the | 1,141.237358 |
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Transcribed from the 1883 Trübner & Co. edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: Book cover]
[Picture: Shakespeare on his death-bed]
SHAKESPEARE’S BONES
* * * * *
_THE PROPOSAL TO DISINTER THEM_,
CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO THEIR POSSIBLE BEARING
ON HIS PORTRAITURE:
ILLUSTRATED BY INSTANCES OF
VISITS OF THE LIVING TO THE DEAD.
BY
C. M. INGLEBY, LL.D., V.P.R.S.L.,
Honorary Member of the German Shakespeare Society,
and a Life-Trustee of Shakespeare’s Birthplace, Museum, and New Place,
at Stratford-upon-Avon.
[Picture: Decorative graphic]
_LONDON_:
TRÜBNER & CO., 57 & 59, _Ludgate Hill_.
1883.
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
* * * * *
“Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.”
_Richard II_, a. iii, s. 2.
* * * * *
This Essay
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO
THE MAJOR AND CORPORATION OF STRATFORD-UPON-AVON,
AND THE VICAR
OF THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY TRINITY THERE,
BY THEIR FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE,
THE AUTHOR.
INDEX TO BIBLIOGRAPHY.
PAGE
Anonymous Articles _Argosy_ 46 October, 1879.
_Atlantic Monthly_ 45 June, 1878.
_Birmingham Daily 43 August 23, 1876.
Mail_
,,,,,,,, _Post_ 44 September 29,
1877.
,,,,,,,, _Gazette_ 47 December 17, 1880.
,,,,,, _Town Crier_ 44 November, 1877.
_Cincinnati 48 May 26, 1883.
Commercial Gazette_
_Daily Telegraph_ 43 August 24, 1876.
_New York Nation_ 45 May 21, 1878.
Letter _Birmingham Daily 45 October 10, 1877.
Post_
Gower, Lord Ronald _Antiquary_ 46 August, 1880.
Halliwell-Phillipps, 46 1881.
J. O.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel _Atlantic Monthly_ 41 January, 1863.
Ingleby, C. M. 48 June, 1883.
Norris, J. Parker _N. Y. American 41 April, 1876, and
Bibliopolist_ August 4, 1876.
Schaafhausen, Hermann _Shakespeare 43 1874–5.
Jahrbuch_
Timmins, Sam. _Letter to J. Parker 42 _Circa_ 1874 and
Norris_ 1876.
SHAKESPEARE’S BONES.
THE sentiment which affects survivors in the disposition of their dead,
and which is, in one regard, a superstition, is, in another, a creditable
outcome of our common humanity: namely, the desire to honour the memory
of departed worth, and to guard the “hallowed reliques” by the erection
of a shrine, both as a visible mark of respect for the dead, and as a
place of resort for those pilgrims who may come to pay him tribute. It
is this sentiment which dots our graveyards with memorial tablets and
more ambitious sculptures, and which still preserves so many of our
closed churchyards from desecration, and our {1a} ancient tombs from the
molestation of careless, curious, or mercenary persons.
But there is another sentiment, not inconsistent with this, which prompts
us, on suitable occasions, to disinter the remains of great men, and
remove them to a more fitting and more honourable resting-place. The
Hôtel des Invalides at Paris, and the Basilica of San Lorenzo Fuori le
Mura at Rome, {1b} are indebted to this sentiment for the possession of
relics which make those edifices the natural resort of pilgrims as of
sight-seers. It were a work of superfluity to adduce further
illustration of the position that the mere exhumation and reinterment of
a great man’s remains, is commonly held to be, in special cases, a
justifiable proceeding, not a violation of that honourable sentiment of
humanity, which protects and consecrates the depositaries of the dead.
On a late occasion it was not the belief that such a proceeding is a
violation of our more sacred instincts which hindered the removal to
Pennsylvania of the remains of William Penn; but simply the belief that
they had already a more suitable resting-place in his native land. {2}
There is still another sentiment, honourable in itself and not
inconsistent with those which I have specified, though still more
conditional upon the sufficiency of the reasons conducing to the act:
namely, the desire, by exhumation, to set at rest a reasonable or
important issue respecting the person of the deceased while he was yet a
living man. Accordingly it is held justifiable to exhume a body recently
buried, in order to discover the cause of death, or to settle a question
of disputed identity: nor is it usually held unjustifiable to exhume a
body long since deceased, in order to find such evidences as time may not
have wholly destroyed, of his personal appearance, including the size and
shape of his head, and the special characteristics of his living face.
It is too late for the most reverential and scrupulous to object to this
as an invasion of the sanctity of the grave, or a violation of the rights
of the dead or of the feelings of his family. When a man has been long
in the grave, there are probably no family feelings to be wounded by such
an act: and, as for his rights, if he can be said to have any, we may
surely reckon among them the right of not being supposed to possess such
objectionable personal defects as may have been imputed to him by the
malice of critics or by the incapacity of sculptor or painter, and which
his remains may be sufficiently unchanged to rebut: in a word we owe him
something more than refraining from disturbing his remains until they are
undistinguishable from the earth in which they lie, a debt which no
supposed inviolable sanctity of the grave ought to prevent us from
paying.
It is, I say, too late to raise such an objection, because exhumation has
been performed many times with a perfectly legitimate object, even in the
case of our most illustrious dead, without protest or objection from the
most sensitive person. As the examples, more or less analogous to that
of Shakespeare, which I am about to adduce, concern great men who were
born and were buried within the limits of our island, I will preface them
by giving the very extraordinary cases of Schiller and Raphael, which
illustrate both classes: those in which the object of the exhumation was
to give the remains a more honourable sepulture, and those in which it
was purely to resolve certain questions affecting the skull of the
deceased. The following is abridged from Mr. Andrew Hamilton’s
narrative, entitled “The Story of Schiller’s Life,” published in
_Macmillan’s Magazine_ for May, 1863.
“At the time of his death Schiller left his widow and children almost
penniless, and almost friendless too. The duke and duchess were
absent; Goethe lay ill; even Schiller’s brother-in-law Wolzogen was
away from home. Frau von Wolzogen was with her sister, but seems to
have been equally ill-fitted to bear her share of the load that had
fallen so heavily upon them. Heinrich Voss was the only friend
admitted to the sick-room; and when all was over it was he who went
to the joiner’s, and, knowing the need of economy, ordered ‘a plain
deal coffin.’ It cost ten shillings of our money.
“In the early part of 1805, one Carl Leberecht Schwabe, an
enthusiastic admirer of Schiller, left Weimar on business. Returning
on Saturday the 11th of May, between three and four in the afternoon,
his first errand was to visit his betrothed, who lived in the house
adjoining that of the Schillers. She met him in the passage, and
told him, Schiller was two days dead, and that night he was to be
buried. On putting further questions, Schwabe stood aghast at what
he learned. The funeral was to be private and to take place
immediately after midnight, without any religious rite. Bearers had
been hired to carry the remains to the churchyard, and no one else
was to attend.
“Schwabe felt that all this could not go on; but to prevent it was
difficult. There were but eight hours left; and the arrangements,
such as they were, had already been made. However, he went straight
to the house of death, and requested an interview with | 1,141.2375 |
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THOMAS CARLYLE
* * * * *
FAMOUS SCOTS SERIES
_The following Volumes are now ready_:--
THOMAS CARLYLE. By Hector C. Macpherson.
ALLAN RAMSAY. By Oliphant Smeaton.
HUGH MILLER. By W. Keith Leask.
JOHN KNOX. By A. Taylor Innes.
ROBERT BURNS. By Gabriel Setoun.
THE BALLADISTS. By John Geddie.
RICHARD CAMERON. By Professor Herkless.
SIR JAMES Y. SIMPSON. By Eve Blantyre Simpson.
THOMAS CHALMERS. By Professor W. Garden Blaikie.
JAMES BOSWELL. By W. Keith Leask.
TOBIAS SMOLLETT. By Oliphant Smeaton.
FLETCHER OF SALTOUN. By G. W. T. Omond.
THE BLACKWOOD GROUP. By Sir George Douglas.
NORMAN MACLEOD. By John Wellwood.
SIR WALTER SCOTT. By Professor Saintsbury.
KIRKCALDY OF GRANGE. By Louis A. Barbe.
ROBERT FERGUSSON. By A. B. Grosart.
JAMES THOMSON. By William Bayne.
MUNGO PARK. By T. Banks Maclachlan.
DAVID HUME. By Professor Calderwood.
* * * * *
THOMAS CARLYLE
by
HECTOR C MACPHERSON
Famous Scots Series
Published by Oliphant Anderson & Ferrier
Edinburgh and London
The designs and ornaments of this volume are by Mr Joseph Brown, and the
printing from the press of Messrs Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh.
Second Edition completing Seventh Thousand.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
Of the writing of books on Carlyle there is no end. Why, then, it may
pertinently be asked, add another stone to the Carlylean cairn? The
reply is obvious. In a series dealing with famous Scotsmen, Carlyle has
a rightful claim to a niche in the temple of Fame. While prominence has
been given in the book to the Scottish side of Carlyle's life, the fact
has not been lost sight of that Carlyle owed much to Germany; indeed, if
we could imagine the spirit of a German philosopher inhabiting the body
of a Covenanter of dyspeptic and sceptical tendencies, a good idea would
be had of Thomas Carlyle. Needless to say, I have been largely indebted
to the biography by Mr Froude, and to Carlyle's _Reminiscences_. After
all has been said, the fact remains that Froude's portrait, though
truthful in the main, is somewhat deficient in light and
shade--qualities which the student will find admirably supplied in
Professor Masson's charming little book, "Carlyle Personally, and in his
Writings." To the Professor I am under deep obligation for the interest
he has shown in the book. In the course of his perusal of the proofs,
Professor Masson made valuable corrections and suggestions, which
deserve more than a formal acknowledgment. To Mr Haldane, M.P., my
thanks are also due for his suggestive criticism of the chapter on
German thought, upon which he is an acknowledged authority.
I have also to express my deep obligations to Mr John Morley, who, in
the midst of pressing engagements, kindly found time to read the proof
sheets. In a private note Mr Morley has been good enough to express his
general sympathy and concurrence with my estimate of Carlyle.
_EDINBURGH, October 1897._
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
EARLY LIFE 9
CHAPTER II
CRAIGENPUTTOCK--LITERARY EFFORTS 29
CHAPTER III
CARLYLE'S MENTAL DEVELOPMENT 42
CHAPTER IV
LIFE IN LONDON 65
CHAPTER V
HOLIDAY JOURNEYINGS--LITERARY WORK 79
CHAPTER VI
RECTORIAL ADDRESS--DEATH OF MRS CARLYLE 112
CHAPTER VII
LAST YEARS AND DEATH OF CARLYLE 129
CHAPTER VIII
CARLYLE AS A SOCIAL AND POLITICAL THINKER 138
CHAPTER IX
CARLYLE AS AN INSPIRATIONAL FORCE 152
THOMAS CARLYLE
CHAPTER I
EARLY LIFE
'A great man,' says Hegel, 'condemns the world to the task of explaining
him.' Emphatically does the remark apply to Thomas Carlyle. When he
began to leave his impress in literature, he was treated as a confusing
and inexplicable element. Opinion oscillated between the view of James
Mill, that Carlyle was an insane rhapsodist, and that of Jeffrey, that
he was afflicted with a chronic craze for singularity. Jeffrey's verdict
sums up pretty effectively the attitude of the critics of the time to
the new writer:--'I suppose that you will treat me as something worse
than an ass, when I say that I am firmly persuaded the great source of
your extravagance, and all that makes your writings intolerable to many
and ridiculous to not a few, is not so much any real peculiarity of
opinion, as an unlucky ambition to appear more original than you are.'
The blunder made by Jeffrey in regard both to Carlyle and Wordsworth
emphasises the truth which critics seem reluctant to bear in mind, that,
before the great man can be explained, he must be appreciated.
Emphatically true of Carlyle it is that he creates the standard by which
he is judged. Carlyle resembles those products of the natural world
which biologists call'sports'--products which, springing up in a
spontaneous and apparently erratic way, for a time defy classification.
The time is appropriate for an attempt to classify the great thinker,
whose birth took place one hundred years ago.
Towards the close of the last century a stone-mason, named James
Carlyle, started business on his own account in the village of
Ecclefechan, Dumfriesshire. He was an excellent | 1,141.241303 |
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American Men of Letters.
Edited by
Charles Dudley Warner.
[Illustration: S. Lawrence, 1837. Illman & Sons.
N. P. Willis.]
American Men of Letters.
NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS.
by
HENRY A. BEERS.
[Illustration]
Boston:
Houghton, Mifflin and Company.
New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge.
1890.
Copyright, 1885,
By Henry A. Beers.
All rights reserved.
The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.
PREFACE.
The materials for a life of Willis are rich enough to be embarrassing.
Most of his writings are, in a greater or less degree, autobiographical;
and it would be possible to make a very tolerable life of him, by
arranging passages from these in the right order, and linking them
together with a few paragraphs of cold facts. Then, he lived very much in
the world’s eye, and was constantly talked and written about, so that
there is abundant mention of him in newspaper files, and in volumes of
“Recollections,” etc., by his contemporaries. In addition to these printed
sources, I have been furnished, by the kindness of Mrs. N. P. Willis, Miss
Julia Willis, and Mrs. Imogen Willis Eddy, with private letters, journals,
and other MS. memoranda by Willis, which extend from his school days at
Andover down to a few weeks before his death--of course not without
_lacunæ_. Although I have not quoted very freely from these letters, they
have been of the greatest service, by supplying facts which I have
incorporated with the body of the narrative, and by correcting or
verifying data otherwise obtained. A biography of Willis could have been
written without them, but this particular biography could not; and I take
occasion hereby to acknowledge my debt to the ladies whose courtesy gave
me access to this material.
There are many others who have helped my undertaking in various ways--too
many for me to thank them all by name. But I cannot withhold mention of my
obligations to Mr. Richard S. Willis and to Mr. Morris Phillips, the
editor of the “Home Journal.”
HENRY A. BEERS.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
ANCESTRY AND EARLY YEARS 1
CHAPTER II.
COLLEGE LIFE 31
CHAPTER III.
BOSTON AND THE AMERICAN MONTHLY 71
CHAPTER IV.
LIFE ABROAD 107
CHAPTER V.
LIFE ABROAD CONTINUED 154
CHAPTER VI.
GLENMARY--THE CORSAIR--THE NEW MIRROR 219
CHAPTER VII.
THIRD VISIT TO ENGLAND--THE HOME JOURNAL 283
CHAPTER VIII.
IDLEWILD AND LAST DAYS 326
BIBLIOGRAPHY 353
INDEX 357
NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS.
CHAPTER I.
1806-1823.
ANCESTRY AND EARLY YEARS.
Willis was born January 20, 1806, in the little old seaport city of
Portland, Maine, celebrated by the “Autocrat” for its great square
mansions, the homes of retired sea-captains. The town had already made
some noise in literature, as the residence of that wild genius, John Neal;
and on February 27, 1807, little more than a year after the date with
which this biography begins, it witnessed the birth of its most
illustrious citizen, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
A comparison at once suggests itself between the subsequent fortunes in
the republic of letters of these two infant poets, fellow townsmen for
some five years. Willis was the earlier in the field. In 1832, when
Longfellow, then a young professor at Bowdoin College, began to
contribute scholarly articles to the “North American Review,” the former
had been five years before the public, and was already well known as a
poet, a magazine editor, and a foreign correspondent. When “Outre-Mer” was
issued in 1835, Willis had won a reputation as a prose writer on both
sides of the Atlantic by his “Pencillings” in the “New York Mirror;” and
by 1839, when Longfellow published his first volume of original poetry,
“Voices of the Night,” his senior by a year had printed five books of
verse. But there is no question as to which has proved the better
continuer. Longfellow is still the favorite poet of two peoples; a singer
dearer, perhaps, to the general heart than any other who has sung in the
English tongue. His brilliant contemporary, after being for about fifteen
years the most popular magazinist in America, has sunk into comparative
oblivion.[1] This is the fate of all fashionable literature. Every
generation begins by imitating the literary fashions of the last, and ends
with a reaction against them. At present “realism” has the floor,
sentiment is at a discount, and Willis’s glittering, high- pictures
of society, with their easy optimism and their unlikeness to hard fact,
have little to say to the readers of Zola and Henry James.
Without presuming any native equality between Willis and the Cambridge
poet, it is fair to add that the former never found opportunity to deepen
and ripen such gift as was in him. His life was passed not “in the quiet
and still air of delightful studies,” but in the rush of the gay world and
the daily drudgery of the pen; in the toil of journalism, that most
exhausting of mental occupations, which is forever giving forth and never
bringing in. His best work--all of his work which claims remembrance--was
done before he was forty. His earlier writings are not only his freshest,
but his strongest and most carefully executed.
Willis is a glaring instance of inherited tendencies, being the third
journalist in succession in his line of descent. The founder of the family
in this country, and the progenitor of our subject in the seventh
generation, was a certain George Willis, born in England in 1602, who
arrived in New England probably about 1630. He was a brickmaker and
builder by trade, and is described as “a Puritan of considerable
distinction,” who resided in Cambridge, Massachusetts, some sixty years,
having been admitted to the Freeman’s Oath in 1638 and elected a deputy to
the General Court. Probably the most noteworthy of the poet’s forbears, at
least upon the father’s side, was the Rev. John Bailey, his ancestor in
the fifth generation, a non-conforming Independent minister in Lancashire,
who, having been silenced and afterwards imprisoned, escaped to
Massachusetts in 1684, and was settled, first as minister over the church
in Watertown, and later as associate minister over the First Church in
Boston, where he died in 1697. Increase Mather preached his funeral
sermon. His tomb is in the Granary Burying Ground, adjoining Park Street
Church, and his portrait in the cabinet of the Massachusetts Historical
Society. What more could a man ask for in an ancestor? No New England
pedigree which respects itself is without one or more fine old Puritan
divines of this kind. Accordingly, when Willis began to take that mild,
retrospective interest in his own genealogy which foretokens the oncoming
of age,--when new twigs upon the family tree give an unthought-of
importance to the roots,--he bestowed the name of this particular
forefather upon his youngest boy, Bailey Willis.
The poet’s great-grandmother Willis, born Abigail Belknap, was
granddaughter to this Rev. John Bailey, and had some traits which cropped
out in her posterity. At the time of the destruction of the tea in Boston
harbor, she cannily saved a little for private use. She used to say, “I
have got some Belknap pride in me yet;” and among her favorite maxims
were, “Never go into the back door when you can go into the front,” and
“Never eat brown bread when you can get white.” The husband of this lady
was Charles Willis, a sail-maker and patriot, who was present on the
occasion when tar and feathers and hot tea were administered to his
Majesty’s tax-collector in Boston. His position and action in the affair
were represented in an ancient engraving, bought long afterwards by his
grandson, Deacon Nathaniel Willis, our Willis’s father. A copy of the same
is now in possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society. The son of
Charles and Abigail Willis was Nathaniel, the third, though by no means
the last, Willis with that baptismal name; the first literary man in the
family, and the poet’s grandfather. He conducted in Boston, during the
Revolutionary War, the “Independent Chronicle,” a Whig newspaper,
published from the same building in which Franklin had worked as a
printer. This Nathaniel senior, as we may call him, was an active man. He
was a fine horseman, took part in the Boston tea-party, and was adjutant
of the Boston regiment sent on an expedition to Rhode Island under General
Sullivan. In 1784 he sold his interest in the “Independent Chronicle,” and
became one of the pioneer journalists of the unsettled West. He removed
first to Winchester, Virginia, where he published a paper for a short
time; then to Shepardstown, where he also published a paper; and thence in
1790 to Martinsburg, Virginia, where he founded the “Potomac Guardian” and
edited it till 1796. In that year he went to Chillicothe, Ohio, and
established the “Scioto Gazette,” the first newspaper in what was then
known as the Northwestern Territory. He was printer to the government of
the territory, and afterwards held an agency in the Post Office
Department. He bought and cultivated a farm near Chillicothe, on which he
ended his days April 1, 1831. His wife was Lucy Douglas, of New London,
Connecticut.
His son and the poet’s father, Nathaniel Willis, Junior,--the fourth
Nathaniel in the family,--was born at Boston in 1780, and remained there
until 1787, when he joined his father at Winchester and was employed in
his newspaper office, and subsequently at Martinsburg on the “Potomac
Guardian.” In the infancy of American journalism, the editor and publisher
of a paper was usually a practical printer. Young Nathaniel was put to
work at once in folding papers and setting types. At Martinsburg he used
to ride post, with tin horn and saddle-bags, delivering papers to
scattered subscribers in the thinly settled country. N. P. Willis himself
served a year’s apprenticeship at his father’s press in Boston, in an
interval of his schooling; and in his letters home from England alluded
triumphantly to his having once been destined by his parents to the trade
of a printer. His particular duty was to ink the types. “We remember
_balling_ an edition of ‘Watts’s Psalms and Hymns,’ and there are lines in
that good book that, to this day, go to the tune we played with the
ink-balls, while conning them over.” A sketch of the old office of the
“Potomac Guardian,” made by “Porte Crayon,” is in the possession of Mr.
Richard Storrs Willis of Detroit.
At the age of fifteen young Nathaniel returned to Boston and entered the
office of his father’s old paper, the “Independent Chronicle,” working in
the same press-room in Court Street where his father had once worked, and
the great Franklin before him. He also found time, while in Boston, to
drill with the “Fusiliers.” In 1803, invited by a Maine congressman and
other gentlemen of the Republican party, he went to Portland and
established the “Eastern Argus” in opposition to the Federalists. Here the
subject of this biography was born three years later. “Well do I remember
that day,” his father wrote to him fifty-seven years after the event, “and
the driving snow-storm in which I had to go, in an open sleigh, to bring
in the nurse from the country. Francis Douglas boarded with us at that
time. He was a very pleasant young man, and had a half promise (if it was
a boy) it should be called _Francis_. But your mother soon overruled that,
and decided that you should have both of our names, for fear she should
never have another son! You was a fine fat baby, with a face as round as
an apple.”
Party spirit ran high at this time, and political articles were
acrimonious. Libel suits were brought against the publisher of the
“Argus,” which involved him in trouble and expense; and six years after
its establishment it was sold for four thousand dollars to the same
Francis Douglas who had come so near imposing his Christian name on the
infant Willis. At Portland Nathaniel Willis came under the ministrations
and influence of the Rev. Edward Payson, D. D.,--on whose death, many
years after, his son composed some rather perfunctory verses,--and began
henceforth to devote himself to the cause of religion. From 1810 to 1812
he sought to establish a religious newspaper in Portland, but met with no
substantial encouragement. At the latter date he returned to Boston,
where, after years of effort, during which he supported himself by
publishing tracts and devotional books, he started, in January, 1816, the
“Boston Recorder,” which he asserted to be the first religious newspaper
in the world. It was in this periodical that the earliest lispings of
Willis’s muse reached the ear of the public. The “Recorder” was conducted
by his father down to 1844, in which year it was sold to the Rev. Martin
Moore. It still lives as the “Congregationalist and Boston Recorder.”
Nathaniel Willis also originated the idea of a religious paper for
children. “The Youth’s Companion,” which he commenced in 1827 and edited
for about thirty years, was the first, and remains one of the best,
publications of the kind in existence. In a letter to his son he gave the
following account of its inception: “He was in the habit of teaching his
children, statedly, the Assembly’s Catechism, and to encourage them to
commit to memory the answers, he rewarded them by telling them stories
from Scripture history without giving names. The result was that the
Catechism was all committed to memory by the children, and the idea
occurred of a children’s department in the ‘Recorder.’ This department
being much sought for by children, it suggested the experiment of having a
paper exclusively for children.” Around the fireplace where Mr. Willis sat
with his children were some old-fashioned Dutch tiles, representing scenes
from the New Testament, and it was in answer to their questions about
these that he began his narrations. One sees in this little domestic
picture the beginnings of the young Nathaniel’s literary training and the
germ of his “Scripture Sketches.” Years after, a college lad, when shaping
into smooth blank verse the story of the widow of Nain or the healing of
Jairus’s daughter, his memory must have gone back to their rude figures
about his father’s hearth, seeming to move and stir in the flickering
light of the wood fire; and the recollection of his father’s voice and the
listening group of brothers and sisters gave tenderness to the strain.
He was only six when the family removed from Portland | 1,141.341173 |
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Produced by ddNg E-Ching
THE PRINCESS
by Alfred Lord Tennyson
PROLOGUE
Sir Walter Vivian all a summer's day
Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun
Up to the people: thither flocked at noon
His tenants, wife and child, and thither half
The neighbouring borough with their Institute
Of which he was the patron. I was there
From college, visiting the son,--the son
A Walter too,--with others of our set,
Five others: we were seven at Vivian-place.
And me that morning Walter showed the house,
Greek, set with busts: from vases in the hall
Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names,
Grew side by side; and on the pavement lay
Carved stones of the Abbey-ruin in the park,
Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of Time;
And on the tables every clime and age
Jumbled together; celts and calumets,
Claymore and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans
Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries,
Laborious orient ivory sphere in sphere,
The cursed Malayan crease, and battle-clubs
From the isles of palm: and higher on the walls,
Betwixt the monstrous horns of elk and deer,
His own forefathers' arms and armour hung.
And 'this' he said 'was Hugh's at Agincourt;
And that was old Sir Ralph's at Ascalon:
A good knight he! we keep a chronicle
With all about him'--which he brought, and I
Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights,
Half-legend, half-historic, counts and kings
Who laid about them at their wills and died;
And mixt with these, a lady, one that armed
Her own fair head, and sallying through the gate,
Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls.
'O miracle of women,' said the book,
'O noble heart who, being strait-besieged
By this wild king to force her to his wish,
Nor bent, nor broke, nor shunned a soldier's death,
But now when all was lost or seemed as lost--
Her stature more than mortal in the burst
Of sunrise, her arm lifted, eyes on fire--
Brake with a blast of trumpets from the gate,
And, falling on them like a thunderbolt,
She trampled some beneath her horses' heels,
And some were whelmed with missiles of the wall,
And some were pushed with lances from the rock,
And part were drowned within the whirling brook:
O miracle of noble womanhood!'
So sang the gallant glorious chronicle;
And, I all rapt in this, 'Come out,' he said,
'To the Abbey: there is Aunt Elizabeth
And sister Lilia with the rest.' We went
(I kept the book and had my finger in it)
Down through the park: strange was the sight to me;
For all the sloping pasture murmured, sown
With happy faces and with holiday.
There moved the multitude, a thousand heads:
The patient leaders of their Institute
Taught them with facts. One reared a font of stone
And drew, from butts of water on the <DW72>,
The fountain of the moment, playing, now
A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls,
Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball
Danced like a wisp: and somewhat lower down
A man with knobs and wires and vials fired
A cannon: Echo answered in her sleep
From hollow fields: and here were telescopes
For azure views; and there a group of girls
In circle waited, whom the electric shock
Dislinked with shrieks and laughter: round the lake
A little clock-work steamer paddling plied
And shook the lilies: perched about the knolls
A dozen angry models jetted steam:
A petty railway ran: a fire-balloon
Rose gem-like up before the dusky groves
And dropt a fairy parachute and past:
And there through twenty posts of telegraph
They flashed a saucy message to and fro
Between the mimic stations; so that sport
Went hand in hand with Science; otherwhere
Pure sport; a herd of boys with clamour bowled
And stumped the wicket; babies rolled about
Like tumbled fruit in grass; and men and maids
Arranged a country dance, and flew through light
And shadow, while the twangling violin
Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead
The broad ambrosial aisles of lofty lime
Made noise with bees and breeze from end to end.
Strange was the sight and smacking of the time;
And long we gazed, but satiated at length
Came to the ruins. High-arched and ivy-claspt,
Of finest Gothic lighter than a fire,
Through one wide chasm of time and frost they gave
The park, the crowd, the house; but all within
The sward was trim as any garden lawn:
And here we lit on Aunt Elizabeth,
And Lilia with the rest, and lady friends
From neighbour seats: and there was Ralph himself,
A broken statue propt against the wall,
As gay as any. Lilia, wild with sport,
Half child half woman as she was, had wound
A scarf of orange round the stony helm,
And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk,
That made the old warrior from his ivied nook
Glow like a sunbeam: near his tomb a feast
Shone, silver-set; about it lay the guests,
And there we joined them: then the maiden Aunt
Took this fair day for text, and from it preached
An universal culture for the crowd,
And all things great; but we, unworthier, told
Of college: he had climbed across the spikes,
And he had squeezed himself betwixt the bars,
And he had breathed the Proctor's dogs; and one
Discussed his tutor, rough to common men,
But honeying at the whisper of a lord;
And one the Master, as a rogue in grain
Veneered with sanctimonious theory.
But while they talked, above their heads I saw
The feudal warrior lady-clad; which brought
My book to mind: and opening this I read
Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang
With tilt and tourney; then the tale of her
That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls,
And much I praised her nobleness, and 'Where,'
Asked Walter, patting Lilia's head (she lay
Beside him) 'lives there such a woman now?'
Quick answered Lilia 'There are thousands now
Such women, but convention beats them down:
It is but bringing up; no more than that:
You men have done it: how I hate you all!
Ah, were I something great! I wish I were
Some might poetess, I would shame you then,
That love to keep us children! O I wish
That I were some great princess, I would build
Far off from men a college like a man's,
And I would teach them all that men are taught;
We are twice as quick!' And here she shook aside
The hand that played the patron with her curls.
And one said smiling 'Pretty were the sight
If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans,
And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair.
I think they should not wear our rusty gowns,
But move as rich as Emperor-moths, or Ralph
Who shines so in the corner; yet I fear,
If there were many Lilias in the brood,
However deep you might embower the nest,
Some boy would spy it.'
At this upon the sward
She tapt her tiny silken-sandaled foot:
'That's your light way; but I would make it death
For any male thing but to peep at us.'
Petulant she spoke, and at herself she laughed;
A rosebud set with little wilful thorns,
And sweet as English air could make her, she:
But Walter hailed a score of names upon her,
And 'petty Ogress', and 'ungrateful Puss',
And swore he longed at college, only longed,
All else was well, for she-society.
They boated and they cricketed; they talked
At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics;
They lost their weeks; they vext the souls of deans;
They rode; they betted; made a hundred friends,
And caught the blossom of the flying terms,
But missed the mignonette of Vivian-place,
The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke,
Part banter, part affection.
'True,' she said,
'We doubt not that. O yes, you missed us much.
I'll stake my ruby ring upon it you did.'
She held it out; and as a parrot turns
Up through gilt wires a crafty loving eye,
And takes a lady's finger with all care,
And bites it for true heart and not for harm,
So he with Lilia's. Daintily she shrieked
And wrung it. 'Doubt my word again!' he said.
'Come, listen! here is proof that you were missed:
We seven stayed at Christmas up to read;
And there we took one tutor as to read:
The hard-grained Muses of the cube and square
Were out of season: never man, I think,
So mouldered in a sinecure as he:
For while our cloisters echoed frosty feet,
And our long walks were stript as bare as brooms,
We did but talk you over, pledge you all
In wassail; often, like as many girls--
Sick for the hollies and the yews of home--
As many little trifling Lilias--played
Charades and riddles as at Christmas here,
And _what's my thought_ and _when_ and _where_ and _how_,
As here at Christmas.'
She remembered that:
A pleasant game, she thought: she liked it more
Than magic music, forfeits, all the rest.
But these--what kind of tales did men tell men,
She wondered, by themselves?
A half-disdain
Perched on the pouted blossom of her lips:
And Walter nodded at me; '_He_ began,
The rest would follow, each in turn; and so
We forged a sevenfold story. Kind? what kind?
| 1,141.34124 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.4191850 | 2,048 | 135 | TIBET***
E-text prepared by Peter Vachuska, Carla Foust, Chuck Greif, and the
Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 27021-h.htm or 27021-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/0/2/27021/27021-h/27021-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/0/2/27021/27021-h.zip)
Transcriber's note:
Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without
notice. An obvious printer error has been corrected,
and it is listed at the end. All other inconsistencies
are as in the original. The author's spelling has been
maintained.
AN EXPLORER'S ADVENTURES IN TIBET
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, FEBRUARY, 1897]
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, OCTOBER, 1897]
AN EXPLORER'S ADVENTURES IN TIBET
by
A. HENRY SAVAGE LANDOR
Author of
"In the Forbidden Land"
"The Gems of the East"
etc. etc.
With Illustrations by the Author
Harper & Brothers Publishers
New York and London
MCMX
Copyright, 1910, by Harper & Brothers
All rights reserved
Published April, 1910.
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
PREFACE vii
I. A FORBIDDEN COUNTRY 1
II. AN UNKNOWN PASS 10
III. A NARROW ESCAPE 20
IV. WATCHED BY SPIES 29
V. WARNED BACK BY SOLDIERS 37
VI. ENCOUNTER WITH A HIGH TIBETAN OFFICIAL 47
VII. AN EXCITING NIGHT JOURNEY 58
VIII. HUNGRY FUGITIVES 67
IX. AN ATTEMPT AT MUTINY 79
X. AMONG ENEMIES AND ROBBERS 90
XI. IN STRANGE COMPANY 102
XII. AMONG THE LAMAS 113
XIII. LIFE IN THE MONASTERIES 126
XIV. ANOTHER DISASTER 136
XV. FOLLOWED BY TIBETAN SOLDIERS 150
XVI. FIRST WHITE MAN IN THE SACRED PROVINCE 163
XVII. DISASTER AT THE RIVER 176
XVIII. CAPTURED 191
XIX. THREATS OF DEATH 203
XX. A TERRIBLE RIDE 210
XXI. THE EXECUTIONER 220
XXII. A CHARMED LIFE 233
XXIII. LED TO THE FRONTIER 245
XXIV. WITH FRIENDS AT LAST 257
APPENDIX 267
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE AUTHOR _Frontispiece_
INVOLUNTARY TOBOGGANING _Facing p._ 10
AT NIGHT I LED MY MEN UP THE MOUNTAIN IN A
FIERCE SNOW-STORM " 64
BEHIND OUR BULWARKS " 76
THE BANDITS LAID DOWN THEIR ARMS " 102
A NATURAL CASTLE " 136
CAMP WITH GIGANTIC INSCRIPTIONS " 142
TORRENTIAL RAIN " 150
TIBETAN WOMEN AND CHILDREN " 174
PURCHASING PONIES " 192
I WAS A PRISONER " 194
DRAGGED INTO THE SETTLEMENT " 196
CHANDEN SING BEING FLOGGED " 202
THE RIDE ON A SPIKED SADDLE " 218
WE ATTACKED OUR GUARD WITH STONES " 254
CLIFF HABITATIONS " 262
PREFACE
This book deals chiefly with the author's adventures during a journey
taken in Tibet in 1897, when that country, owing to religious
fanaticism, was closed to strangers. For the scientific results of the
expedition, for the detailed description of the customs, manners, etc.,
of the people, the larger work, entitled _In the Forbidden Land_ (Harper
& Brothers, publishers), by the same author, should be consulted.
During that journey of exploration the author made many important
geographical discoveries, among which may be mentioned:
(_a_) The discovery of the two principal sources of the Great
Brahmaputra River, one of the four largest rivers in the world.
(_b_) The ascertaining that a high range of mountains existed north of
the Himahlyas, but with no such great elevations as the highest of the
Himahlyan range.
(_c_) The settlement of the geographical controversy regarding the
supposed connection between the Sacred (Mansarowar) and the Devil's
(Rakastal) lakes.
(_d_) The discovery of the real sources of the Sutlej River.
In writing geographical names the author has given the names their true
sounds as locally pronounced, and has made no exception even for the
poetic word "Himahlya" (the abode of snow), which in English is usually
misspelt and distorted into the meaningless Himalaya.
All bearings of the compass given in this book are magnetic. Temperature
observations were registered with Fahrenheit thermometers.
A. H. S. L.
AN EXPLORER'S ADVENTURES
IN TIBET
AN EXPLORER'S
ADVENTURES IN TIBET
CHAPTER I
A FORBIDDEN COUNTRY
Tibet was a forbidden land. That is why I went there.
This strange country, cold and barren, lies on a high tableland in the
heart of Asia. The average height of this desolate tableland--some
15,000 feet above sea-level--is higher than the highest mountains of
Europe. People are right when they call it the "roof of the world."
Nothing, or next to nothing, grows on that high plateau, except poor
shrubs and grass in the lower valleys. The natives live on food imported
from neighboring countries. They obtain this by giving in exchange wool,
borax, iron, and gold.
High mountain ranges bound the Tibetan plateau on all sides. The highest
is the Himahlya range to the south, the loftiest mountain range on
earth. From the south it is only possible to enter Tibet with an
expedition in summer, when the mountain passes are not entirely blocked
by snow.
At the time of my visit the law of Tibet was that no stranger should be
allowed to enter the country. The Tibetan frontier was closely guarded
by soldiers.
A few expeditions had travelled in the northern part of Tibet, as the
country was there practically uninhabited. They had met with no one to
oppose their march save, perhaps, a few miserable nomads. No one, since
Tibet became a forbidden country to strangers, had been able to
penetrate in the Province of Lhassa--the only province of Tibet with a
comparatively thick population. It was this province, the most forbidden
of all that forbidden land, that I intended to explore and survey. I
succeeded in my object, although I came very near paying with my life
for my wish to be of use to science and my fellow-creatures.
With the best equipment that money could buy for scientific work, I
started for the Tibetan frontier in 1897. From Bombay, in India, I
travelled north to the end of the railway, at Kathgodam, and then by
carts and horses to Naini Tal. At this little hill-station on the lower
Himahlyas, in the north-west Province of India, I prepared my
expedition, resolved to force my way in the Unknown Land.
Naini Tal is 6407 feet above the level of the sea. From this point all
my loads had to be carried on the backs of coolies or porters.
Therefore, each load must not exceed fifty pounds in weight. I packed
instruments, negatives, and articles liable to get damaged in cases of
my own manufacture, specially designed for rough usage. A set of four
such cases of well-seasoned deal wood, carefully joined and fitted,
zinc-lined and soaked in a special preparation by which they were
rendered water and air tight, could be made useful in many ways. Taken
separately, they could be used as seats. Four placed in a row, answered
the purpose of a bedstead. Three could be used as seat and table. The
combination of four, used in a certain manner, made a punt, or boat, of
quick, solid, and easy construction, with which an unfordable river
could be crossed, or for taking soundings in the still waters of
un | 1,141.439225 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.4193330 | 2,116 | 8 | PALACE***
Transcribed from the [1860s] J. F. Shaw edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: Tract cover]
THE SABBATH AND THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
THE question of Sabbath observance is again brought before the public,
and subjected to a new discussion. Points which we had considered as
settled, and settled beyond the reach of doubt, are disputed. A change
of circumstances is stated as requiring and involving a change of views;
and the character which society is assuming in the present day, is said
to justify a revision and reconsideration of the principles by which it
has been previously regulated. A fresh attack in consequence is made on
an ordinance which, having been accustomed to regard as the security of
our national religion, the source of those streams of life which sanctify
and refresh the souls of our people, we had hoped was secured from
encroachment and curtailment by the law of the land, as well as by the
authority of the word of God. The attack in this case, as might have
been expected, comes from a different quarter, and is carried on in a
different manner. It is not with open and avowed enemies that we have to
contest the point, but with professed friends. Much for which we have
contended on former occasions is conceded now. In many respects, the
tone, the language, the object of those opposed to us are modified. The
divine institution of a day of rest is admitted; the beneficent character
of the appointment, its salutary influences, are acknowledged; its
peculiar adaptation to the condition of man is recognised: and the only
subject of dispute would seem to be, the form in which those influences
should be exercised, and the general application of the blessing intended
should be accomplished.
The good of man, the improvement of the labouring classes, the softening
of their character, the refinement of their tastes, the development of
intellect, and the correction of what is low and sensual in their
enjoyments, are named as the objects of pursuit: and no one can hesitate
as to the importance of these points, nor as to the value which all
things lovely and of good report possess in christian estimation. With a
view to the promotion of these objects, the advantages of a day of rest;
its beneficent influence on the mind as well as the body; its increasing
importance in a state of society like the present; its absolute necessity
when man is exposed to the exhausting circumstances of manufacturing or
commercial life, are admitted,—and not only admitted, but urged with as
much zeal as was ever shown by those who contended for the strictest
observance of the Sabbath in the days of religious controversy. Surprise
and regret are therefore mixed together, when we find that those who see
the importance of the institution in one sense so clearly, and can
advocate its claims with so much power, should disappoint the
expectations that had been indulged of their co-operation, and should
finally become the assailants instead of the supporters of the principle
we feel bound to maintain. They see so much in the institution of the
Sabbath that is adapted to the weaknesses and wants of our nature, that
they cannot help acknowledging its necessity. Under that conviction,
forced upon them by the outcry of the whole creation, groaning and
travailing together in pain, by the testimony of exhausted bodies and
paralyzed intellect, they admit, they assert, as a fact that can no
longer be denied, that the Sabbath was made for man, and accept it as a
merciful provision made by God for the relief and consolation of his
creatures; but as to the specific purpose which it is to serve in respect
of man, as to the way in which the balm is to be used and applied, they
have their own views, and those views they are determined to carry out in
opposition to all that has been established and believed on the subject.
It is clear, then, that we have not gained much by the concessions made
by those who have been induced, under these representations, and with
these views of the ordinance, to admit the divine authority of the
Sabbath. They have attempted to disarm our opposition by professing to
receive the same truth, while they were introducing views which
superseded its application; and the controversy must now be transferred
from the religious authority of the Sabbath, as a day of rest, to the
form and manner of its observance by those who, on these grounds,
acknowledge its obligation.
The point at issue with our present opponents consists chiefly as to the
manner in which the Sabbath is to be applied. Its value they admit; its
beneficent effects are acknowledged to be such that its divine authority
can hardly be disputed: but while they argue with us in considering that
the Sabbath was made for man, they differ widely from us as to the way
and manner in which it is to be used, and as to the benefits to be
expected or derived from its observance. We are compelled, from the
language made use of, to say, that they regard the Sabbath as having been
made for man, much as we believe that it was made for the animals that
are placed under man’s government, and are thus made partakers of his
life of labour. In consequence, the sort of rest that they anticipate in
the Sabbath for man, differs only from that which is ordained for them,
as the constitution of man differs from that of the brute creation, and
requires a different species of rest, in reference to a different form of
toil. The rest of the animal is provided for when the exaction of labour
ceases, and natural wants are supplied. The rest for man, according to
their view, is equally provided for, when liberty is given to body and
mind, and the refreshment that is required by each, in order to supply
the exhaustion that has taken place, is put within its reach. The
wearied limbs require sleep, the wearied senses quiet; and the first
object is to ensure the repose which the physical frame requires after
its six days’ labour. In the case of man, however, when repose and quiet
have produced this effect on the body, and the mind, regaining its
activity, looks round for relaxation, there then ensues another
necessity, for there is another want to be provided for; and something
more must be done for the refreshment of the human system than had been
found necessary before. An effort, therefore, is to be made to supply to
all what seems the universal want of those who labour; and the wearied
mind must have its food and rest, just as the wearied body has had
before, in order to perfect the object for which the Sabbath is
appointed.
It is proposed, therefore, to apply the afternoon of the Sabbath to such
recreations as may refine the taste while they amuse the man, and to
effect an improvement in the general character of our population, by
supplying them with the means of intellectual and innocent amusement
during the interval of leisure. Among the means of promoting this end,
and with this as one of its avowed objects, public attention is being
drawn to the Crystal Palace erecting at Sydenham, which is, we hear, to
be opened every Sunday afternoon, as offering in a small compass, a
collection of those objects which are most likely to attract the notice
and elevate the tastes of the people. The energy and talent which are
engaged in carrying out the plan of this magnificent undertaking, leave
no room for doubt as to their success. It is easy to imagine that such
an assemblage of the wonders of nature and art will never have been
presented to the public in modern days, or presented under such
favourable circumstances. The immense size of the building contemplated,
we are told, will admit of the introduction of all the wonders of
tropical vegetation, combined with copies of the finest works of art.
The whole world is to be laid under contribution to complete the interest
of the scene, and things which we have only heard and read of, are to be
offered to the inspection of the multitude. Models of machinery,
specimens of workmanship, the trophies of the skill of our own people,
and of foreign nations, are to be presented for examination and study,
that the exhibition may be made as profitable and instructive, as it must
be interesting and attractive.
It is not easy to state too highly the amount of innocent and elevating
amusement that may be derived from such a combination of objects. The
knowledge slowly gained by books will be here anticipated by what is
seen. A few hours spent in the Palace, with an intelligent guide, may
teach more than had been learnt in months of study; and what is of more
consequence, those who never would have learnt anything from books, may
here gain much from seeing; and a spirit of inquiry may be kindled in
minds which had resisted every other mode of teaching. We are assured,
also, that the exhibition is to be kept as free from the ordinary cause
of evil, as it is unexceptionable in its original design. No liquor of
an intoxicating kind is to be sold there. Order and propriety of
behaviour will be maintained by the officials; and the freedom of access
is to be general, and every indulgence afforded to intelligent curiosity;
no deviation will be permitted from the rules laid down at first.
It is not without a pang that we proceed to disperse this brilliant
vision, and to show the danger that lies concealed under this specious
and captivating project. But let it be at once said, that the objections | 1,141.439373 |
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Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines.
GREENMANTLE
by
JOHN BUCHAN
To
Caroline Grosvenor
During the past year, in the intervals of an active life, I have amused
myself with constructing this tale. It has been scribbled in every
kind of odd place and moment--in England and abroad, during long
journeys, in half-hours between graver tasks; and it bears, I fear, the
mark of its gipsy begetting. But it has amused me to write, and I
shall be well repaid if it amuses you--and a few others--to read.
Let no man or woman call its events improbable. The war has driven
that word from our vocabulary, and melodrama has become the prosiest
realism. Things unimagined before happen daily to our friends by sea
and land. The one chance in a thousand is habitually taken, and as
often as not succeeds. Coincidence, like some new Briareus, stretches
a hundred long arms hourly across the earth. Some day, when the full
history is written--sober history with ample documents--the poor
romancer will give up business and fall to reading Miss Austen in a
hermitage.
The characters of the tale, if you think hard, you will recall. Sandy
you know well. That great spirit was last heard of at Basra, where he
occupies the post that once was Harry Bullivant's. Richard Hannay is
where he longed to be, commanding his battalion on the ugliest bit of
front in the West. Mr John S. Blenkiron, full of honour and wholly
cured of dyspepsia, has returned to the States, after vainly
endeavouring to take Peter with him. As for Peter, he has attained the
height of his ambition. He has shaved his beard and joined the Flying
Corps.
CONTENTS
1. A Mission is Proposed
2. The Gathering of the Missionaries
3. Peter Pienaar
4. Adventures of Two Dutchmen on the Loose
5. Further Adventures of the Same
6. The Indiscretions of the Same
7. Christmas Eve
8. The Essen Barges
9. The Return of the Straggler
10. The Garden-House of Suliman the Red
11. The Companions of the Rosy Hours
12. Four Missionaries See Light in Their Mission
13. I Move in Good Society
14. The Lady of the Mantilla
15. An Embarrassed Toilet
16. The Battered Caravanserai
17. Trouble By the Waters of Babylon
18. Sparrows on the Housetops
19. Greenmantle
20. Peter Pienaar Goes to the Wars
21. The Little Hill
22. The Guns of the North
CHAPTER ONE
A Mission is Proposed
I had just finished breakfast and was filling my pipe when I got
Bullivant's telegram. It was at Furling, the big country house in
Hampshire where I had come to convalesce after Loos, and Sandy, who was
in the same case, was hunting for the marmalade. I flung him the
flimsy with the blue strip pasted down on it, and he whistled.
'Hullo, Dick, you've got the battalion. Or maybe it's a staff billet.
You'll be a blighted brass-hat, coming it heavy over the hard-working
regimental officer. And to think of the language you've wasted on
brass-hats in your time!'
I sat and thought for a bit, for the name 'Bullivant' carried me back
eighteen months to the hot summer before the war. I had not seen the
man since, though I had read about him in the papers. For more than a
year I had been a busy battalion officer, with no other thought than to
hammer a lot of raw stuff into good soldiers. I had succeeded pretty
well, and there was no prouder man on earth than Richard Hannay when he
took his Lennox Highlanders over the parapets on that glorious and
bloody 25th day of September. Loos was no picnic, and we had had some
ugly bits of scrapping before that, but the worst bit of the campaign I
had seen was a tea-party to the show I had been in with Bullivant
before the war started. [Major Hannay's narrative of this affair has
been published under the title of _The Thirty-nine Steps_.]
The sight of his name on a telegram form seemed to change all my
outlook on life. I had been hoping for the command of the battalion,
and looking forward to being in at the finish with Brother Boche. But
this message jerked my thoughts on to a new road. There might be other
things in the war than straightforward fighting. Why on earth should
the Foreign Office want to see an obscure Major of the New Army, and
want to see him in double-quick time?
'I'm going up to town by the ten train,' I announced; 'I'll be back in
time for dinner.'
'Try my tailor,' said Sandy. 'He's got a very nice taste in red tabs.
You can use my name.'
An idea struck me. 'You're pretty well all right now. If I wire for
you, will you pack your own kit and mine and join me?'
'Right-o! I'll accept a job on your staff if they give you a corps. If
so be as you come down tonight, be a good chap and bring a barrel of
oysters from Sweeting's.'
I travelled up to London in a regular November drizzle, which cleared
up about Wimbledon to watery sunshine. I never could stand London
during the war. It seemed to have lost its bearings and broken out
into all manner of badges and uniforms which did not fit in with my
notion of it. One felt the war more in its streets than in the field,
or rather one felt the confusion of war without feeling the purpose. I
dare say it was all right; but since August 1914 I never spent a day in
town without coming home depressed to my boots.
I took a taxi and drove straight to the Foreign Office. Sir Walter did
not keep me waiting long. But when his secretary took me to his room I
would not have recognized the man I had known eighteen months before.
His big frame seemed to have dropped flesh and there was a stoop in the
square shoulders. His face had lost its rosiness and was red in
patches, like that of a man who gets too little fresh air. His hair
was much greyer and very thin about the temples, and there were lines
of overwork below the eyes. But the eyes were the same as before, keen
and kindly and shrewd, and there was no change in the firm set of the
jaw.
'We must on no account be disturbed for the next hour,' he told his
secretary. When the young man had gone he went across to both doors
and turned the keys in them.
'Well, Major Hannay,' he said, flinging himself into a chair beside the
fire. 'How do you like soldiering?'
'Right enough,' I said, 'though this isn't just the kind of war I would
have picked myself. It's a comfortless, bloody business. But we've
got the measure of the old Boche now, and it's dogged as does it. I
count on getting back to the front in a week or two.'
'Will you get the battalion?' he asked. He seemed to have followed my
doings pretty closely.
'I believe I've a good chance. I'm not in this show for honour and
glory, though. I want to do the best I can, but I wish to heaven it
was over. All I think of is coming out of it with a whole skin.'
He laughed. 'You do yourself an injustice. What about the forward
observation post at the Lone Tree? You forgot about the whole skin
then.'
I felt myself getting red. 'That was all rot,' I said, 'and I can't
think who told you about it. I hated the job, but I had to do it to
prevent my subalterns going to glory. They were a lot of fire-eating
young lunatics. If I had sent one of them he'd have gone on his knees
to Providence and asked for trouble.'
Sir Walter was still grinning.
'I'm not questioning your caution. You have the rudiments of it, or
our friends of the Black Stone would have gathered you in at our last
merry meeting. I would question it as little as your courage. What
exercises my mind is whether it is best employed in the trenches.'
'Is the War Office dissatisfied with me?' I asked sharply.
'They are profoundly satisfied. They propose to give you command of
your battalion. Presently, if you escape a stray bullet, you | 1,141.440178 |
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VOL. XXXIV. NO. 10.
THE
AMERICAN MISSIONARY.
* * * * *
“To the Poor the Gospel is Preached.”
* * * * *
OCTOBER, 1880.
_CONTENTS_:
EDITORIAL.
OUR ANNUAL MEETING—PARAGRAPHS 289
PARAGRAPHS 290
JUBILEE SINGERS 291
ATLANTA’S <DW52> PEOPLE—COMMON SENSE FOR <DW52> MEN 292
OUR SCHOOLS AND THE COMMON SCHOOL SYSTEM 293
A NEW SOUTH, NOT A NEW ENGLAND IN THE SOUTH 294
MTESA AND THE RELIGION OF HIS ANCESTORS 296
BEGGING LETTER 297
AFRICAN NOTES 299
ITEMS FROM THE FIELD 300
THE FREEDMEN.
CADETSHIP 302
NORTH CAROLINA, MCLEANSVILLE—Revival Interest 302
SOUTH CAROLINA, GREENWOOD 303
GEORGIA—Midway Anniversary 304
GEORGIA—Atlanta University and Temperance 305
ALABAMA—Shelby Ironworks 305
ALABAMA—FLORENCE—Outside Work 306
MISSISSIPPI—Tougaloo University 307
THE INDIANS.
S’KOKOMISH AGENCY: Rev. Myron Eells 308
SISSETON AGENCY: Chas. Crissey 309
THE CHINESE.
SERMON BY JEE GAM 310
CHILDREN’S PAGE.
CHINESE AND CHINESE CUSTOMS 312
RECEIPTS 313
CONSTITUTION 317
AIM, STATISTICS, WANTS 318
* * * * *
NEW YORK:
Published by the American Missionary Association,
ROOMS, 56 READE STREET.
* * * * *
Price, 50 Cents a Year, in advance.
Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., as second-class matter.
| 1,141.443931 |
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THE RED RIVER HALF-BREED
A TALE OF THE WILD NORTHWEST
BY
GUSTAVE AIMARD
AUTHOR OF "PRAIRIE FLOWER," "THE TREASURE OF PEARLS,"
"PIRATES OF THE PRAIRIES," &c., &c.
LONDON
JOHN and ROBERT MAXWELL
MILTON HOUSE, SHOE LANE, FLEET STREET
AND
35, ST. BRIDE STREET LUDGATE CIRCUS
(From the Collected Novels--1860-1885)
(Translation by Henry Llewellyn Williams - edited by: Percy B. St John.)
CONTENTS
I. THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT
II. THE FALSE PILOT
III. THE MOUNTAINEER'S SNUG CABIN
IV. THE MAN WHO RAN RIGHT INTO TROUBLE
V. THE LONE MAN'S STORY
VI. IN HOSTILE HANDS
VII. CHEROKEE BILL RECRUITING
VIII. THE GOLD GRABBERS
IX. THE RED RIVER HALF-BREEDS
X. THE STORM KING
XI. THE IRRESISTIBLE BAIT
XII. UNDER THE MARK
XIII. THE BEAUTIFUL PRISONER'S FRIEND
XIV. THE COMPACT
XV. AN INGENIOUS INTRODUCTION
XVI. THE THORN OF ROSES
XVII. HOW "FRENCH PAUL" GOT HURT
XVIII. ROSARIO BEGINS TO HOPE
XIX. THE NEST OF TRAITORS
XX. THE UNDERMINER
XXI. THE BEST WAY TO LEARN IS TO LOOK AND LISTEN
XXII. THE LATE VISITOR TO THE LADIES
XXIII. A FOREST LETTER
XXIV. THE YAGER'S "TREATY TALK" WITH OUR HERO
XXV. WE HEAR FROM CHEROKEE BILL
XXVI. THE ALL-POWERFUL EMBLEM
XXVII. THE MOUNTAIN MAN IS REINFORCED
XXVIII. DRAWING TO A HEAD
XXIX. ON THE EVE OF THE ATTACK
XXX. THE HALF-BREED DIES GAME
XXXI. THE WOMEN'S CAMP
CHAPTER I.
THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT.
We stand on the loftiest peak of the Big Wind River Mountains, that
highest and longest chain of the Northern Rockies, a chaos of granite
fifteen thousand feet towards the firmament from the sea.
Around us the lesser pinnacles hold up heads as fantastic in shape as
an Indian's plumed for battle, and, below a little, diamonds of ice
deck the snowy ermine of the colossal giant's robe.
Far beneath, the mosses are grown upon by sparse grasses, and they
by scrub evergreens, gradually displaced in the descent to the warm
alcoved valleys by taller and taller pines, spruce, larch, and cedar.
But the ancient ocean wash here shows lines alone of the constant west
and southwest winds, which never bring a seed or grain into this calm
frigidity.
In the placid afternoon, the beats are audible of the wings of the king
of | 1,141.636777 |
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THE CRIME DOCTOR
_By_ ERNEST W. HORNUNG
Author of Raffles, The Amateur Cracksman, The Thousandth Woman, etc.
_With Illustrations by_
FREDERIC DORR STEELE
INDIANAPOLIS
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT 1914
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
PRESS OF
BRAUNWORTH & CO.
BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
BROOKLYN, N. Y.
[Illustration: "It was struck with--this"]
CONTENTS
I THE PHYSICIAN WHO HEALED HIMSELF 1
II THE LIFE-PRESERVER 40
III A HOPELESS CASE 77
IV THE GOLDEN KEY 118
V A SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD 159
VI ONE POSSESSED 199
VII THE DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT 237
VIII THE SECOND MURDERER 272
THE CRIME DOCTOR
I
THE PHYSICIAN WHO HEALED HIMSELF
In the course of his meteoric career as Secretary of State for the Home
Department, the Right Honorable Topham Vinson instituted many reforms
and earned the reformer's whack of praise and blame. His methods were
not those of the permanent staff; and while his notorious courage
endeared him to the young, it was not in so strong a nature to leave
friend or foe lukewarm. An assiduous contempt for tradition fanned the
flame of either faction, besides leading to several of those personal
adventures which were as breath to the Minister's unregenerate nostrils,
but which never came out without exposing him to almost universal
censure. It is matter for thanksgiving that the majority of his
indiscretions were unguessed while he and his held office; for he was
never so unconventional as in pursuance of those enlightened tactics on | 1,141.637956 |
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RUSSIAN LIFE TO-DAY
[Illustration: _His Imperial Majesty the Tsar._]
RUSSIAN LIFE
TO-DAY
BY THE
RIGHT REV. HERBERT BURY, D.D.
_Bishop for Northern and Central Europe
Author of "A Bishop among Bananas"_
A. R. MOWBRAY & CO. LTD.
LONDON: 28 Margaret Street, Oxford Circus, W.
OXFORD: 9 High Street
MILWAUKEE, U.S.A.: The Young Churchman Co.
_TO MY FELLOW COUNTRYMEN
AT WORK IN SIBERIA_
First impression, March, 1915
New impressions, April, July, December, 1915
INTRODUCTION
My first inclination, when the entirely unexpected proposal of the
Publishers came to me to write this book, was immediately to decline.
There are so many well-known writers on Russia, whose books are an
unfailing pleasure and source of information, that it seemed to me to be
nothing less than presumption to add to their number. But when I was
assured that there seems to be a great desire just now for a book which,
as the Publishers expressed it, "should not attempt an elaborate sketch
of the country, nor any detailed description of its system of government
and administration, or any exhaustive study of the Russian Church, and
yet should give the _impressions_ of a sympathetic observer of some of
the chief aspects of Russian Life which are likely to appeal to an
English Churchman," I felt that I might venture to attempt it.
It has been given to me to get to understand thoroughly from close and
intimate knowledge the commercial development of Siberia by our
countrymen; and yet everywhere, both there and in Russia proper, I have
to go to every place specially and primarily to give the ministrations
of religion. It can be permitted to few, if any, to see those two sides
of the life of a great and growing Empire at the same time. This has
been my reason, therefore, for undertaking this small effort, and my
object is to give, as the Publishers expressed it, "personal
impressions." I hope my readers will accept this book, therefore, as an
impressionist description of Russian life of to-day, of which it would
have been quite impossible to keep personal experiences from forming an
important part. And though I write as an English Churchman, yet I wish
to speak, and I trust in no narrow spirit, to the whole religious
public, that I may draw them more closely into intelligent sympathy with
this great nation which has seemed to come so suddenly, unexpectedly,
and intimately into our own national life and destiny--and I believe as
a friend.
HERBERT BURY,
_Bishop_.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. RUSSIA'S GREAT SPACES 1
II. GENERAL SOCIAL LIFE 21
III. THE PEASANTRY 46
IV. THE CLERGY 71
V. RELIGIOUS LIFE AND WORSHIP 95
VI. HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY THE TSAR 118
VII. A PATERNAL GOVERNMENT 139
VIII. THE STEPPES 162
IX. RUSSIA'S PROBLEM 186
X. THE ANGLICAN CHURCH IN RUSSIA 205
XI. THE JEWS 228
XII. OUR COUNTRYMEN IN THE EMPIRE 248
INDEX 268
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY THE TSAR _Frontispiece_
RUSSIA'S GREAT SPACES--WINTER _facing page_ 4
RUSSIA'S GREAT SPACES--SUMMER " " 8
THE KREMLIN " " 21
THE GATE OF THE REDEEMER, MOSCOW " " 29
A WELL-CLAD COACHMAN " " 33
A VILLAGE SCENE " " 46
THE METROPOLITAN OF MOSCOW " " 71
THE CONVENT AT EKATERINBURG, SIBERIA " " 78
THE ABBESS MAGDALENA " " 84
THE RUSSIAN PRIEST AT SPASSKY " " 90
S. ISAAC'S CATHEDRAL, PETROGRAD " " 95
INTERIOR OF A RUSSIAN CHURCH " " 102
THE CATHEDRAL AT RIGA " " 112
HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY THE TSARITSA " " 118
HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE TSAREVITCH ALEXEI " " 125
HER IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE GRAND DUCHESS
ELIZABETH, THE FRIEND OF THE POOR " " 139
CHARACTERISTIC GROUP OF RUSSIANS " " 144
A GROUP OF RUSSIAN PEASANTS " " 152
CONSECRATION OF BURIAL GROUND IN THE
SIBERIAN STEPPES " " 162
OUTSIDE A KIRGHIZ UERTA " " 166
TARANTASS WITH ITS TROIKA FOR THE STEPPES " " 170
INSIDE A KIRGHIZ UERTA " " 180
RUSSIAN SERVICE AT THE ATBAZAR MINE " " 186
A CLASS OF RUSSIAN STUDENTS WITH TEACHER " " 195
THE ENGLISH CHURCH OF S. ANDREW, MOSCOW " " 205
THE BISHOP AND RUSSIAN CHAUFFEUR " " 216
THE BRITISH COMMUNITY AT ATBAZAR, SIBERIA " " 224
THE ARCHBISHOP OF WARSAW " " 228
A POLISH JEW " " 236
CAMELS AT WORK--SUMMER " " 256
CAMELS AT WORK--WINTER " " 262
MAP _at end_
RUSSIAN LIFE TO-DAY
CHAPTER I
RUSSIA'S GREAT SPACES
I will begin my opening chapter by explaining how I come to have the joy
and privilege of travelling far and wide, as I have done, in the great
Russian Empire. I go there as Assistant Bishop to the Bishop of London,
holding a commission from him as bishop in charge of Anglican work in
North and Central Europe.
It may seem strange that Anglican work in that distant land should be
directly connected with the Diocese of London, but the connection
between them, and between all the countries of Northern and Central
Europe, as far as our Church of England work is concerned, is of long
standing. It dates from the reign of Charles I, and from an Order in
Council which was passed in 1633, and placed the congregations of the
Church of England in _all_ foreign countries at that time under the
jurisdiction of the Bishop of London "as their Diocesan." It may be
remembered that when the present Bishop of London went to Washington
some years ago he took with him some interesting documents which he had
found in the library at Fulham Palace, and which were connected with the
time when Church work in the United States looked to London for
superintendence and episcopal leadership. These he handed over to the
custody of the Episcopal Church of America, knowing how interested that
Church would be to possess them, and to keep them amongst other
historical records.
The same rapid progress as that which has attended the American Church
has been made in the Colonies and other parts of the world. New dioceses
and provinces have been formed one after another, and in 1842 the
Diocese of Gibraltar was formed, taking in the congregations of the
English Church in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Roumania, and all places
bordering upon the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. But the other
countries of Europe, to the north and in the centre, remain still, as
far as Church work goes, where that old Order in Council placed them, in
the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London.
It is impossible, of course, that he should attempt to meet this
responsibility himself and bear the burden of such a diocese as that of
London, and so the rule has been, since 1825, to issue a commission to
another bishop, who, while being an assistant, yet has to feel himself
fully responsible, and in this way spare the Bishop of London as much as
he possibly can.
It will therefore be understood, as I have said in my few words of
introduction, that, filling such a position and having such work to
superintend, and also, for many reasons to be more fully explained in
succeeding pages, finding the Orthodox Church of Russia very friendly
towards our own, I shall write throughout with those whom I have termed
the "religious public" very clearly in my mind and sympathies. At the
same time I am hoping to interest the general reader also, and therefore
shall try my utmost to give a comprehensive view of Russian life as it
will be found to-day by travellers on the one hand if they give
themselves time and opportunity enough, and by those, on the other, who
have to go and live and work in Russia.
First impressions are usually interesting to recall. Mine were immediate
and extraordinarily vivid, and were all associated with thoughts--which
have gradually become convictions--of Russia's vast potentialities and
future greatness.
When first I had the honour and pleasure of an audience with the Emperor
of Russia--I will speak of it at greater length in a later chapter--one
of the first questions he asked me was:--
"And what has most impressed you, so far, on coming, as a new
experience, into my country?"
I was not prepared for the question, but answered at once and without
the least hesitation--for there seemed to come into my mind even as His
Majesty spoke, the vivid impression I had received--
"Russia's great spaces!"
"Ah, yes!" he said, evidently thinking very deeply; "that is true.
Russia's _great_ spaces--what a striking impression they must make, for
the first time!"
[Illustration: _Russia's Great Spaces--Winter._]
I went on to explain that one can see great spaces elsewhere. On the
ocean when for days together no other vessel is seen; on some of the
great plains in the other hemisphere; riding across the great Hungarian
tableland; and even in Central France or in the Landes to the west I
have felt this sense of space and distance; but Russia's great flat or
gently undulating expanses have always seemed to me to suggest other
spaces on beyond them still, and to give an impression of the vast
and illimitable, such as I have never known elsewhere. It is under this
impression of vast resources, no doubt, that so many military
correspondents of our daily papers constantly speak of the Russian
forces as "inexhaustible." It is the same with other things also. They
suggest such marvellous possibilities.
This is the impression I would like to give at once in this my opening
chapter--a sense of spaciousness--power to expand, to develop, to open
out, to make progress, to advance and grow. It is not the impression the
word "Russia" usually makes upon people who know little about her inner
life, and have received their ideas from those who have experienced the
repressive and restrictive side of her policy and administration. But I
can only give, and am glad of the opportunity, the results of my own
experiences and observations; and those are embodied in my reply to the
Emperor.
When I crossed the Russian frontier for the first time it was with a
very quaking and apprehensive spirit. All that lay beyond was full of
the mysterious and unknown, so entirely different, one felt it must be,
from all one's previous experiences of life! Anything might happen, for
this was Russia! "Russia" has stood so long with us in this country for
the repressive and reactionary, for the grim and forbidding and
restricting, that it will be difficult for many to part with those
ideas, and I can hardly hope to remove impressions now deeply rooted. I
can only say, however, that my own prejudices and preconceptions in the
same direction disappeared, one after another, with astonishing rapidity
in my first year; and now my spirits rise every time I cross the
frontier of that great country, and my heart warms to that great people
as soon as I see their kindly and friendly faces, their interesting and
picturesque houses, and catch my first sight of their beautiful
churches, with the fine cupolas above them with their hanging chains,
painted and gilded domes, and delicate finials glittering in the sun and
outlined against a sky of blue. Russia to me presents at once a kindly,
friendly atmosphere, and others feel it also; for I have, just before
writing these words, laid down a copy of _The Times_ in which Mr.
Stephen Graham--no one knows the heart and soul of Russia quite as he
does, I fancy--writing one of his illuminating articles on "Russia's
Holy War," says "People in Russia are naturally kind. They have become
even gentler since the war began." Those who enter Russia expecting the
unfriendly will find, I feel sure, as we have done, exactly the
opposite--nothing but kindness and courtesy. It will be the same in
other experiences also if I mistake not.
One of the chief difficulties ordinary travellers or tourists expect to
encounter, for instance, in Russia is that of language.
"Isn't it extraordinarily difficult to acquire, and to make yourself
understood?" is an invariable question, and certainly in long journeys
across country, as from Warsaw up to Riga, and from Libau on the Baltic
to Moscow, and especially in my Mining Camp Mission in Siberia, I
expected to have very great difficulties; but, as so often happens, they
were difficulties in anticipation rather than in reality.
Even off the beaten track in Russia any one who can travel comfortably
in other European countries can travel equally satisfactorily there.
Most educated people speak French, and an ever-increasing number--for
English governesses and nurses are in great request--speak English.
Great numbers of the working class speak German, the national language,
of course, of Russia's Baltic provinces, on railway trains as conductors
and in restaurants as waiters, and at railway stations as porters.
Indeed, if any one is in the dining-car of a train or in the buffet or
dining-room of a railway station or other public place, and has the
courage to stand up and say, "Does any one here speak French?" or "Does
any one here speak German?" some one ready to help and be friendly will
invariably come forward.
In my first Siberian Mission, however, I found myself in a real
difficulty. I had to drive across the Kirghiz Steppes from the railway
at Petropavlosk, about four days and nights east of Moscow, to the
Spassky Copper Mine, and the management had sent down a very reliable
Kirghiz servant of theirs to be my interpreter; but I found that his
only qualification for the work of interpreting was that, in addition to
his own Kirghiz tongue, he could speak Russian!
For the inside of a week, travelling day and night, we had to get on as
best we could together, and arrange all the business of changing horses,
getting food, and paying expenses, largely by signs. Once only, and then
in the dead of night when changing horses, did we encounter a
German-speaking farmer from Courland or Lettland on the Baltic, and a
great joy it was to him to meet some one who knew those fair parts of
the Russian Empire where agricultural work brings much more encouraging
results for the toil bestowed upon it than Siberia, with its terrible
winter season.
[Illustration: _Russia's Great Spaces--Summer._]
But though to acquire a knowledge of Russian for literary purposes, so
as to write and compose correctly, must be most difficult, owing to
the number of letters in the alphabet--forty-six as compared with our
twenty-six--and the entirely different way from our own in which they
are written, I do not think it is difficult to acquire a fair knowledge
of the language in a comparatively short time so as to make one's self
understood and get along. I find young Englishmen, going to work in
Russia and beyond the Urals, very quickly come to understand what is
being said, and to make known their own wishes and requirements; and in
a couple of years, or sometimes less, they speak quite fluently.
It always seems to me that the Russians pronounce their words with more
syllabic distinctness than either the French or Germans. And that
natural kindness and friendliness of the whole people, of which I have
already written, makes them wish to be understood and to help those with
whom they are speaking to grasp their meaning. This, of course, makes
all the difference!
When the question of the great difficulty of the language is raised
another remark nearly always follows:
"But then the Russians are such great linguists that they easily
understand!" And it is usually supposed that they "easily learn other
languages because their own is so difficult," though they encounter no
more difficulty, probably, than any one else when talking in their own
tongue in infancy. They are "great linguists" for the same reason as the
Dutch--and that is because, if they wish to be in educated society or in
business on any large scale, their own language will only go a very
short way.
In Russia as in Holland, as I have been told in both countries, an
educated household will contain a German nurse and an English governess,
while French will be the rule at table. It used to be a French
governess, but now the English governess is in great request everywhere
in Russia and Poland; and, in the great nobles' houses, there is the
English tutor also--not always for the language, but to impart English
ideas to the boys of the family. When I was last in Warsaw, an Oxford
graduate came up at a reception and introduced himself, and told me he
was with a Polish prince who had astonished him on the first morning
after his arrival by saying:--
"I have engaged you as a tutor for my two boys, but it will not be
necessary for you to teach them anything--that is already provided for.
I want you to be their companion, walk out with them, play games with
them, and help them to grow up after the manner of English gentlemen."
There is no real difficulty, therefore, with the language, nor is there
with the money of the country as soon as one realizes the value of the
rouble, eight of which make nearly a pound, and that it is divided into
a hundred _kopecks_, pronounced _kopeeks_, two of which are equal to
about a farthing.
And now to speak of the actual travelling. Everything in the way of
communication in Russia is on a large scale and in keeping with the
answer I gave to the Emperor, and which I have placed at the head of
this chapter. As soon as one passes the frontier, for instance, the
travellers change into carriages adapted for a broad-gauge railway, and
are at once in more commodious quarters. There is no land, I suppose,
where travelling over great distances is so comfortable as in Russia for
all classes; and it is incredibly cheap, first-class tickets costing
less than third in our own country, for those using the ordinary post
train, which every year becomes more comfortable and nearer to the
standard of the wagon-lit. There are excellent lavatories, kept
perfectly clean, where one can wash, shave, and almost have a sponge
bath, for--though without the luxuries of the Trans-Siberian
express--there is more room.
There is usually a restaurant-car on the long-distance trains--and
practically all the trains in Russia are for long distances--and, if
not, there is plenty of time to get food at the stations on the way.
Conductors will take every care and trouble to get what is necessary,
and first and second-class compartments are never overcrowded, as far as
my experience goes. I believe, indeed, that not more than four people
may be put into a compartment for the night, and, as the cushioned back
of the seats can be lifted up, all the four travellers can be sure of
being able to lie down. The first-class compartments on a post train are
divided into two by folding-doors, and one is allowed to buy a
_platzcarte_ and so have the whole compartment to one's self. Every
accommodation too is provided for lying down comfortably in the
third-class, and the travellers there are always the happiest-looking on
the train.
Another consideration shown to the public is that the scale of charges
falls in proportion to the distance to be traversed. The stations are
specially spacious, particularly along the routes beyond Moscow, where
emigration continually goes on into the great pastoral lands of Siberia.
In the summer months the traffic is very great, and it is one of the
most touching and appealing experiences I can recall to pass through one
of the great waiting-halls of such a station as Samara, at night, and
pick one's way amongst the sleeping families of peasants waiting to get
their connection with another line, and resting in the meantime. Their
little possessions are all about them, and father and mother and sons
and daughters lie gathered close up together, pillowing their heads upon
each other, good-looking, prettily dressed, and fast asleep--as
attractive a picture as any one could wish to see.
There is a great freedom of movement everywhere in Russia, and I do not
remember having seen the word _verboten_ (the German for "forbidden"),
or its equivalent, in any part of a Russian or Siberian station. The
rule of having three bells to announce approaching departure is a most
excellent one, whether the pause is long or short, the first ringing
very audibly about five minutes, the second one minute, and the third
| 1,141.74021 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.7202590 | 1,058 | 155 | TWENTY-SIX***
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THE HISTORY OF ROME; BOOKS NINE TO TWENTY-SIX
Literally Translated, with Notes and Illustrations,
by D. Spillan and Cyrus Edmonds.
TITUS LIVIUS.
BOOK IX.
_Titus Veturius and Spurius Postumius, with their army, surrounded
by the Samnites at the Caudine forks; enter into a treaty, give six
hundred hostages, and are sent under the yoke. The treaty declared
invalid; the two generals and the other sureties sent back to the
Samnites, but are not accepted. Not long after, Papirius Cursor
obliterates this disgrace, by vanquishing the Samnites, sending them
under the yoke, and recovering the hostages. Two tribes added. Appius
Claudius, censor, constructs the Claudian aqueduct, and the Appian
road; admits the sons of freedom into the senate. Successes against
the Apulians, Etruscans, Umbrians, Marsians, Pelignians, Aequans, and
Samnites. Mention made of Alexander the Great, who flourished at this
time; a comparative estimate of his strength, and that of the Roman
people, tending to show, that if he had carried his arms into Italy,
he would not have been as successful there as he had been in the
Eastern countries._
* * * * *
1. This year is followed by the convention of Caudium, so memorable on
account of the misfortune of the Romans, the consuls being Titus
Veturius Calvinus and Spurius Postumius. The Samnites had as their
commander that year Caius Ponius, son to Herennius, born of a father
most highly renowned for wisdom, and himself a consummate warrior and
commander. When the ambassadors, who had been sent to make
restitution, returned, without concluding a peace, he said, "That ye
may not think that no purpose has been effected by this embassy,
whatever degree of anger the deities of heaven had conceived against
us, on account of the infraction of the treaty, has been hereby
expiated. I am very confident, that whatever deities they were, whose
will it was that you should be reduced to the necessity of making the
restitution, which had been demanded according to the treaty, it was
not agreeable to them, that our atonement for the breach of treason
should be so haughtily spurned by the Romans. For what more could
possibly be done towards appeasing the gods, and softening the anger
of men, than we have done? The effects of the enemy, taken among the
spoils, which appeared to be our own by the right of war, we restored:
the authors of the war, as we could not deliver them up alive, we
delivered them dead: their goods we carried to Rome, lest by retaining
them, any degree of guilt should remain among us. What more, Roman, do
I owe to thee? what to the treaty? what to the gods, the guarantees of
the treaty? What arbitrator shall I call in to judge of your
resentment, and of my punishment? I decline none; neither nation nor
private person. But if nothing in human law is left to the weak
against stronger, I will appeal to the gods, the avengers of
intolerant arrogance, and will beseech them to turn their wrath
against those for whom neither the restoration of their own effects
nor additional heaps of other men's property, can suffice, whose
cruelty is not satiated by the death of the guilty, by the surrender
of their lifeless bodies, nor by their goods accompanying the
surrender of the owner; who cannot be appeased otherwise than by
giving them our blood to drink, and our entrails to be torn. Samnites,
war is just to those for whom it is necessary, and arms are clear of
impiety for those who have no hope left but in arms. Wherefore, as in
every human undertaking, it is of the utmost importance what matter
men may set about with the favour, what under the displeasure of the
gods, be assured that the former wars ye waged in opposition to the
gods more than to men; in this, which is now impending, ye will act
under the immediate guidance of the gods themselves."
2. After uttering these predictions, not more cheering than true, he
led out the troops, and placed his camp about Caudium as much out of
view as possible. From thence he sent to Calatia, where he heard that
the Roman consuls were encamped, ten soldiers, in the habit of
she | 1,141.740299 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.7220940 | 884 | 27 |
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THE GIRL AND THE BILL
An American Story of Mystery, Romance and Adventure
by
BANNISTER MERWIN
Illustrated
[Illustration: "'Perhaps you can imagine how those letters puzzled
me,' he volunteered"]
A. L. Burt Company
Publishers :: New York
Copyright, 1909, by
Dodd, Mead and Company
Published, March, 1909
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I The Threshold of Adventure 1
II Senhor Poritol 21
III The Shadows 41
IV The Girl of the Car 58
V "Evans, S. R." 77
VI A Chance Lead 93
VII A Japanese at Large 115
VIII The Trail of Maku 136
IX Number Three Forty-One 162
X "Find the American" 178
XI The Way Out 192
XII Power of Darkness 209
XIII An Old Man of the Sea 223
XIV Prisoners in the Dark 253
XV From the Devil to the Deep Sea 279
XVI The Struggle 295
XVII A Chance of the Game 322
XVIII The Goal 347
XIX A Saved Situation 359
THE GIRL AND THE BILL
CHAPTER I
THE THRESHOLD OF ADVENTURE
The roar of State Street filled the ears of Robert Orme not unpleasantly.
He liked Chicago, felt towards the Western city something more than the
tolerant, patronizing interest which so often characterizes the Eastern
man. To him it was the hub of genuine Americanism--young, aggressive,
perhaps a bit too cocksure, but ever bounding along with eyes toward
the future. Here was the city of great beginnings, the city of
experiment--experiment with life; hence its incompleteness--an
incompleteness not dissimilar to that of life itself. Chicago lived; it
was the pulse of the great Middle West.
Orme watched the procession with clear eyes. He had been strolling
southward from the Masonic Temple, into the shopping district. The
clangor, the smoke and dust, the hurrying crowds, all worked into his
mood. The expectation of adventure was far from him. Nor was he a man who
sought impressions for amusement; whatever came to him he weighed, and
accepted or rejected according as it was valueless or useful. Wholesome
he was; anyone might infer that from his face. Doubtless, his fault lay
in his overemphasis on the purely practical; but that, after all, was a
lawyer's fault, and it was counterbalanced by a sweet kindliness toward
all the world--a loveableness which made for him a friend of every chance
acquaintance.
It was well along in the afternoon, and shoppers were hurrying homeward.
Orme noted the fresh beauty of the women and girls--Chicago has reason to
be proud of her daughters--and his heart beat a little faster. Not that
he was a man to be caught by every pretty stranger; but scarcely
recognized by himself, there was a hidden spring of romance in his
practical nature. Heart-free, he never met a woman without wondering
whether she was _the_ one. He had never found her; he did not know that
he was looking for her; yet always there was | 1,141.742134 |
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OTHER BOOKS BY MR. HORNUNG
THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN. $1.25.
RAFFLES. MORE ADVENTURES OF THE
AMATEUR CRACKSMAN. Illustrated by
F. C. YOHN. $1.50.
PECCAVI. A NOVEL. $1.50.
THE SHADOW OF A MAN. $1.25.
DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. A
NOVEL. $1.25.
SOME PERSONS UNKNOWN. $1.25.
YOUNG BLOOD. $1.25.
MY LORD DUKE. $1.25.
THE ROGUE'S MARCH. A ROMANCE.
$1.50.
THE BOSS OF TAROOMBA. [_Ivory
Series._] 16mo. $0.75.
A BRIDE FROM THE BUSH. [_Ivory
Series._] 16mo. $0.75.
IRRALIE'S BUSHRANGER. A STORY
OF AUSTRALIAN ADVENTURE. [_Ivory
Series._] 16mo. $0.75.
AT LARGE
AT LARGE
_A NOVEL_
BY
E. W. HORNUNG
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK::::::::::::::::: 1902
COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
_All rights reserved_
PUBLISHED FEBRUARY, 1902
TROW DIRECTORY
PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY
NEW YORK
CONTENTS
Page
I. A Nucleus of Fortune 1
II. Sundown 11
III. After Four Years 20
IV. How Dick Came Home 28
V. The First Evening at Graysbrooke 41
VI. Sisyphus 53
VII. South Kensington 64
VIII. The Admirable Miles 72
IX. A Dancing Lesson and its Consequences 86
X. An Old Friend and an Old Memory 98
XI. Dressing, Dancing, Looking on 109
XII. "To-Morrow, and To-Morrow, and To-Morrow" 123
XIII. In Bushey Park 132
XIV. Quits 152
XV. The Morning After 163
XVI. Military Manoeuvres 174
XVII. "Miles's Beggars" 185
XVIII. Alice Speaks for Herself 196
XIX. Conterminous Courses 206
XX. Strange Humility 216
XXI. An Altered Man 227
XXII. Extremities 234
XXIII. The Effect of a Photograph 244
XXIV. The Effect of a Song 256
XXV. Melmerbridge Church 271
XXVI. At Bay 286
XXVII. The Fatal Tress 296
XXVIII. The Effort 307
XXIX. Elizabeth Ryan 313
XXX. Sweet Revenge 325
XXXI. The Charity of Silence 333
XXXII. Suspense: Reaction 343
XXXIII. How Dick Said Good-Bye 353
AT LARGE
At Large
I
A NUCLEUS OF FORTUNE
A hooded wagon was creeping across a depressing desert in the middle of
Australia; layers of boxes under the hood, and of brass-handled,
mahogany drawers below the boxes, revealed the licensed hawker of the
bush. Now, the hawker out there is a very extensive development of his
prototype here at home; he is Westbourne Grove on wheels, with the
prices of Piccadilly, W. But these particular providers were neither so
universal nor so exorbitant as the generality of their class. There were
but two of them; they drove but two horses; and sat shoulder to shoulder
on the box.
The afternoon was late; all day the horses had been crawling, for the
track was unusually heavy. There had been recent rains; red mud clogged
the wheels at every yard, and clung to them in sticky tires. Little
pools had formed all over the plain; and westward, on the off-side of
the wagon, these pools caught the glow of the setting sun, and filled
with flame. Far over the horses' ears a long low line of trees was
visible; otherwise the plain was unbroken; you might ride all day on
these plains and descry no other horse nor man.
The pair upon the box were partners. Their names were Flint and
Edmonstone. Flint was enjoying a senior partner's prerogative, and
lolling back wreathed in smoke. His thick bare arms were idly folded. He
was a stout, brown, bearded man, who at thirty looked many years older;
indolence, contentment, and goodwill were written upon his face.
The junior partner was driving, and taking some pains about it--keeping
clear of the deep ruts, and pushing the pace only where the track was
good. He looked twenty years Flint's junior, and was, in fact, just of
age. He was strongly built and five-feet-ten, with honest gray eyes,
fair hair, and an inelastic mouth.
Both of these men wore flannel shirts, buff cord trousers, gray felt
wideawakes; both were public-school men, drawn together in the first
instance by that mutually surprising fact, and for the rest as different
as friends could be. Flint had been ten years in the Colonies,
Edmonstone not quite ten weeks. Flint had tried everything, and failed;
Edmonstone had everything before him, and did not mean to fail. Flint
was experienced, Edmonstone sanguine; things surprised Edmonstone,
nothing surprised Flint. Edmonstone had dreams of the future, and golden
dreams; Flint troubled only about the present, and that very little. In
fine, while Edmonstone saw licensed hawking leading them both by a short
cut to fortune, and earnestly intended that it should, Flint said they
would be lucky if their second trip was as successful as their first,
now all but come to an end.
The shadow of horses and wagon wavered upon the undulating plain as
they drove. The shadows grew longer and longer; there was a noticeable
change in them whenever young Edmonstone bent forward to gaze at the sun
away to the right, and then across at the eastern sky already tinged
with purple; and that was every five minutes.
"It will be dark in less than an hour," the lad exclaimed at last, in
his quick, anxious way; "dark just as we reach the scrub; we shall have
no moon until eleven or so, and very likely not strike the river
to-night."
The sentences were punctuated with sharp cracks of the whip. An answer
came from Edmonstone's left, in the mild falsetto that contrasted so
queerly with the bodily bulk of Mr. John Flint, and startled all who
heard him speak for the first time.
"My good fellow, I implore you again to spare the horseflesh and the
whipcord--both important items--and take it easy like me."
"Jack," replied Edmonstone warmly, "you know well enough why I want to
get to the Murrumbidgee to-night. No? Well, at all events, you own that
we should lose no time about getting to some bank or other?"
"Yes, on the whole. But I don't see the good of hurrying on now to reach
the township at an unearthly hour, when all the time we might camp in
comfort anywhere here. To my mind, a few hours, or even a night or two,
more or less----"
"Are neither here nor there? Exactly!" broke in Edmonstone, with
increasing warmth. "Jack, Jack! the days those very words cost us! Add
them up--subtract them from the time we've been on the roads--and we'd
have been back a week ago at least. I shall have no peace of mind until
I step out of the bank, and that's the truth of it." As he spoke, the
fingers of Edmonstone's right hand rested for a moment, with a curious,
involuntary movement, upon his right breast.
"I can see that," returned Flint, serenely. "The burden of riches, you
see--and young blood! When you've been out here as long as I have,
you'll take things easier, my son."
"You don't understand my position," said Edmonstone. "You laugh when I
tell you I came out here to make money: all the same, I mean to do it. I
own I had rotten ideas about Australia--all new chums have. But if I
can't peg out my claim and pick up nuggets, I'm going to do the next
best thing. It may be hawking and it may not. I mean to see. But we must
give the thing a chance, and not run unnecessary risks with the gross
proceeds of our very first trip. A hundred and thirty pounds isn't a
fortune; but it may be the nucleus of one; and it's | 1,141.744364 |
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: JOHN SMITH’S FUNNY ADVENTURES ON A CRUTCH]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
JOHN SMITH’S
_FUNNY_
ADVENTURES ON A CRUTCH!,
OR THE
REMARKABLE PEREGRINATIONS OF A ONE-
LEGGED SOLDIER AFTER THE WAR.
BY
A. F. HILL,
AUTHOR OF “OUR BOYS, OR ADVENTURES IN THE ARMY,”
“THE WHITE ROCKS, OR THE ROBBERS OF
THE MONONGAHELA,” ETC., ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS._
PHILADELPHIA:
THE KEYSTONE PUBLISHING CO.
1890.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
COPYRIGHT
BY KEYSTONE PUBLISHING CO.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO THE
_MEMORY_
OF
ARTEMUS WARD,
WHOM THE WORLD OWES FOR A THOUSAND
HAPPY SMILES,
THIS WORK IS FRATERNALLY
DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE.
It is verily more difficult to write a good preface for a book than to
write the book itself. We don’t mind telling the reader, very
confidentially, that this is not, by any means, our first effort at a
preface for this work: and we earnestly hope that the public will not
pronounce this _ninth_ one so stupid as we deemed the eight preceding
ones that we tore up.
It will be perceived that our hero bears the historic name of JOHN
SMITH. Original old JOHN SMITH, the Virginia settler, met with many
adventures—some of them funny and others _not_ so funny—among the latter
was the affair with Miss Pocahontas and her stern old parent: and we
claim, for our own JOHN SMITH, as many adventures as his illustrious
namesake—some of them quite as funny and others funnier.
Nothing in this narrative of real incidents is at all calculated to
reflect on the excellent character of Mr. Smith: and this is because we
esteem him very highly and not from any dread of the law; for John Smith
is so multitudinous, that one _could_ handle the name with impunity, and
not incur any risk of prosecution for libel. What would a court say to
an action against a writer for libeling JOHN SMITH, yeoman!—especially
when the writer should plead that he never meant _that_ JOHN SMITH, but
quite another, unknown to the court.
There are those who will shrewdly guess that the hero of the narrative
represents the author himself, the chief grounds for such inference
being a striking similarity in the number of nether limbs. That,
however, should scarcely be taken as conclusive; for, since “this cruel
war is over,” there are nearly as many one-legged men in the country as
there are JOHN SMITHS!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
----------------------------
CHAPTER I.
THE WAY IT HAPPENED.
CHAPTER II.
JOHN’S ADVENTURE WITH A CRAZY MAN.
CHAPTER III.
PROPOSES TO LEAP FROM A THIRD-STORY WINDOW.
CHAPTER IV.
LOCKED UP
CHAPTER V.
ACCOMMODATED WITH A “ROOM LOWER DOWN.”
CHAPTER VI.
THE WAY SMITH GETS BORED.—AN EPISODE.
CHAPTER VII.
JOHN SMITH’S FRIEND.
CHAPTER VIII.
JOHN THOUGHT HE WOULD LIKE TO TRAVEL.
CHAPTER IX.
SEA-SICK.—UGH!
CHAPTER X.
THE “HUB.”
CHAPTER XI.
NARROW ESCAPE IN A ROW AT BALTIMORE.
CHAPTER XII.
HOW SMITH TRAVELED A-FOOT—AND MORE.
CHAPTER XIII.
ROMANCE IN JOHN SMITH’S “REAL LIFE.”
CHAPTER XIV.
THE HUDSON.
CHAPTER XV.
JOHN AT SARATOGA.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SAIL-BOAT.
CHAPTER XVII.
NIAGARA FALLS.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CAVE OF THE WINDS.
CHAPTER XIX.
CANADA.
CHAPTER XX.
COL. JOHN SMITH AT AN HOTEL.
CHAPTER XXI.
COURTESIES OF TRAVELERS.
CHAPTER XXII.
“THE CITY OF MAGNIFICENT DISTANCES.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
SMITH’S EXPERIENCE ON A SKATE.
CHAPTER XXIV.
OVER THE MOUNTAINS.
CHAPTER XXV.
DIFFICULTY WITH THE OWNER OF PITTSBURG.
CHAPTER XXVI.
PECULIARITIES OF TRAVELERS.
CHAPTER XXVII.
MCCULLOCH’S LEAP.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CINCINNATI.
CHAPTER XXIX.
FALL CITY AND CAVE CITY.
CHAPTER XXX.
JOHN SMITH’S ABSENCE FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE “NIGHTINGALE.”
CHAPTER XXXII.
SMITH’S EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES IN THE “MOUND CITY.”
CHAPTER XXXIII.
HOW NOT TO OPEN A PATENT LOCK.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A GAME OF CHECKERS.
CHAPTER XXXV.
JOHN IN CHICAGO.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
TRAVELING COMPANIONS.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
MILWAUKEE AND THE LAKES.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
SMITH IN SEARCH OF HIS UNCLE.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
SMITH’S KNOWLEDGE OF GERMAN.
CHAPTER XL.
“A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE, AND A HOME ON THE ROLLING DEEP.”
CHAPTER XLI.
J. SMITH’S CURIOSITY TO SEE A GALE | 1,141.835107 |
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NEW
ENGLANDS
PROSPECT.
A true, lively, and experimentall
description of that part of _America_,
commonly called NEW ENGLAND:
discovering the state of that Countrie,
both as it stands to our new-come
_English_ Planters; and to the old
Native Inhabitants.
Laying downe that which may both enrich the
knowledge of the mind-travelling Reader,
or benefit the future Voyager.
By WILLIAM WOOD.
[Illustration]
Printed at _London_ by _Tho. Cotes_, for _Iohn Bellamie_, and are
to be sold at his shop, at the three Golden Lyons in _Corne-hill_,
neere the _Royall Exchange_. 1634.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration]
To the Right Worshipfull,
my much honored Friend,
Sir WILLIAM ARMYNE,
Knight and Baronet.
Noble Sir.
The good assurance of your native worth, and thrice generous
disposition, as also the continuall manifestation of your bounteous
favour, and love towards my selfe in particular, hath so bound my
thankfull acknowledgement, that I count it the least part of my service
to present the first fruites of my farre-fetcht experience, to the
kinde acceptance of your charitable hands: well knowing that though
this my worke, owne not worth enough to deserve your patronage, yet
such is your benigne humanity, that I am confident you will daigne it
your protection, under which it willingly shrowdes it selfe. And as it
is reported of that man whose name was _Alexander_, being a cowardly
milke-sop by nature, yet hearing of the valiant courage of that
magnificent _Hero_, _Alexander_ the Great, whose name hee bore, he
thenceforth became stout and valorous; and as he was animated by having
the very name of puissant _Alexander_; so shall these my weake and
feble labours, receive life and courage by the patronage of your much
esteemed selfe; whereby they shall bee able to out-face the keenest
fanges of a blacke mouth'd _Momus_. For from hence the world may
conclude, that either there was some worth in the booke, that caused so
wise a person to looke upon it, and to vouchsafe to owne it, or else if
they suppose that in charity he fosterd it, as being a poore helpelesse
brat, they may thence learne to do so likewise. If here I should take
upon me the usuall straine of a soothing Epistolizer, I should (though
upon better grounds than many) sound forth a full mouth'd encomiasticke
of your incomparable worth: but though your deserts may justly
challenge it, yet I know your vertuous modesty would not thanke me for
it; and indeed your owne actions are the best _Heralds_ of your owne
praise, which in spite of envy it selfe must speake you Wise, and truly
Noble: and I for my part, if I may but present any thing, which either
for its profit or delight may obtaine your favourable approbation, I
have already reaped the harvest of my expectation; onely I must desire
you to pardon my bold presumption, as thus to make your well deserving
name, the frontispeece to so rude and ill deserving frame. Thus wishing
a confluence of all blessings both of the throne, and foot-stoole, to
be multiplied upon your selfe, and your vertuous Consort, my very good
Lady, together with all the Stemmes of your Noble family, I take my
leave and rest,
_Your Worships to serve
and be commanded_,
W. W.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration]
To the Reader.
Courteous Reader,
_Though I will promise thee no such voluminous discourse, as many have
made upon a scanter subject, (though they have travailed no further
than the smoake of their owne native chimnies) yet dare I presume to
present thee with the true, and faithfull relation of some few yeares
travels and experience, wherein I would be loath to broach any thing
which may puzzle thy beleefe, and so justly draw upon my selfe, that
unjust aspersion commonly laid on travailers; of whom many say, They
may lye by authority, because none can controule them; which Proverbe
had surely his originall from the sleepy beleefe of many a home-bred
Dormouse, who comprehends not either the raritie or possibility of
those things he sees not, to whom the most classicke relations seeme
riddles, and paradoxes: of whom it may be said as once of _Diogenes_,
that because he circled himselfe in the circumference of a tubbe, he
therefore contemned the Port and Pallace of _Alexander_, which he knew
not. So there is many a tub-brain'd Cynicke, who because any thing
stranger than ordinary, is too large for the straite hoopes of his
apprehension, he peremptorily concludes it is a lye: But I decline this
sort of thicke-witted readers, and dedicate the mite of my endeavours
to my more credulous, ingenious, and lesse censorious Country-men, for
whose sake I undertooke this worke; and I did it the rather, because
there hath some relations heretofore past the Presse, which have beene
very imperfect; as also because there hath beene many scandalous and
false reports past upon the Country, even from the sulphurious breath
of every base ballad-monger: wherefore to perfect the one, and take off
the other, I have laid downe the nature of the Country, without any
partiall respect unto it, as being my dwelling place where I have lived
these foure yeares, and intend God willing to returne shortly againe;
but my conscience is to me a thousand witnesses, that what I speake is
the very truth, and this will informe thee almost as fully concerning
it, as if thou wentest over to see it. Now whereas I have written the
latter part of this relation concerning the _Indians_, in a more light
and facetious stile, than the former; because their carriage and
behaviour hath afforded more matter of mirth, and laughter, than
gravity and wisedome; and therefore I have inserted many passages of
mirth concerning them, to spice the rest of my more serious discourse,
and to make it more pleasant. Thus thou mayest in two or three houres
travaile over a few leaves, see and know that, which cost him that writ
it, yeares and travaile, over Sea and Land before he knew it; and
therefore I hope thou wilt accept it; which shall be my full reward, as
it was my whole ambition, and so I rest,_
Thine bound in what I may,
_W. W._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration]
To the Author, his singular good
Friend, M^r. _William Wood_.
_Thanks to thy travell, and thy selfe, who hast
Much knowledge in so small roome, comptly plac't,
And thine experience thus a Mount do'st make,
From whence we may _New Englands Prospect_ take,
Though many thousands distant: wherefore thou
Thy selfe shalt sit upon mount _Praise_ her brow.
For if the man that shall the short cut find
Vnto the _Indies_, shall for that be shrin'd;
Sure thou deservest then no small prayse, who,
So short cut to _New England_ here dost show;
And if then this small thankes, thou getst no more,
Of thankes I then will say the world's growne poore._
S. W.
The Table.
Part. 1. _Page._
_Chap._ 1. Of the Situation, Bayes, 1
Havens, and Inlets.
_Chap._ 2. Of the seasons of the yeare, 3
Winter and Summer, together with the
heat, cold, snow, raine, and the effects
of it.
_Chap._ 3. Of the Climate, length, and 8
shortnesse of day and night, with the
suiteablenesse of it to English bodies
for health and sicknesse.
_Chap._ 4. Of the nature of the Soyle. 10
_Chap._ 5. Of the Hearbs, Fruits, Woods, 13
Waters, and Minerals.
_Chap._ 6. Of the Beasts that live on 18
the land.
_Chap._ 7. Beasts living in the water. 24
_Chap._ 8. Of the Birds and Fowles both 26
of land and water.
_Chap._ 9. Of Fish. 32
_Chap._ 10. Of the severall plantations 36
in particular.
_Chap._ 11. Of the evils, and such 44
things as are hurtful in the plantation.
_Chap._ 12. What provision is to be made 49
for a Iourney at Sea, and what to carry
with us for our use at Land.
Part. 2. _Page._
_Chap._ 1. Of the Connectacuts, 56
Mowhacks, or such Indians as are West-
ward.
_Chap._ 2. Of the Tarrenteenes or the 60
Indians inhabiting East-ward.
_Chap._ 3. Of the Pequants and 61
Narragansets, inhabiting South-ward.
_Chap._ 4. Of the Aberginians or Indians 62
North-ward.
_Chap._ 5. Of their Apparell, Ornaments, 64
Paintings, &c.
_Chap._ 6. Of their diet, cookery, &c. 65
_Chap._ 7. Of their dispositions and 69
good qualifications, as friendship, &c.
_Chap._ 8. Of their hardinesse. 75
_Chap._ 9. Of their wondring at the 77
first view of any strange invention.
_Chap._ 10. Of their Kings governement, 79
and Subiects obedience.
_Chap._ 11. Of their Mariages, &c. 81
_Chap._ 12. Of their worship, &c. | 1,141.8411 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.9149470 | 2,850 | 9 |
Produced by Annie McGuire
[Illustration: HARPER'S ROUND TABLE]
Copyright, 1895, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All Rights Reserved.
* * * * *
PUBLISHED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, TUESDAY, AUGUST 27, 1895. FIVE CENTS A COPY.
VOL. XVI.--NO. 826. TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
OAKLEIGH.
BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.
CHAPTER X.
Tony Bronson was the son of a man who had made a great deal of money in
a doubtful line of business by rather shady proceedings. In other words,
he was not strictly honest, and had amassed a large fortune in a manner
that would not bear investigation.
Of this Tony, of course, was ignorant; but he inherited from his father
a mean spirit and a determination to turn every circumstance to his own
account. He had been sent early to St. Asaph's School that he might
associate with the sons of gentlemen and become a gentleman himself, but
he had acquired only the outward veneering. His manners were most
courteous, his language carefully chosen, and he had sufficient wit to
enable him to readily adapt himself to his companions, but he had not
the instincts of a true gentleman. He was mean, he was something of a
coward, and he was very much of a bully.
Years ago, soon after the two boys first met at St. Asaph's, Neal
detected Tony in a cowardly, dishonorable action, and had openly accused
him of it. Tony never forgave him, but he bided his time. With an
unlimited amount of pocket-money of his own, he soon discovered that
Neal was running short. When a convenient opportunity came he offered to
lend him a small sum. Neal, after a moment's hesitation, weakly accepted
the money, assuring himself that it was only for a short time, and that
he could easily repay it, and then have no more to do with Bronson. It
saved him trouble.
Thus it had gone on. The time never came when Neal felt able to pay the
debt; on the other hand, he borrowed more, and now it had reached
alarming proportions. His monthly allowance, when it arrived, was gone
in a flash, for Neal had never been in the habit of denying himself. It
would have been hard for him to explain why he did not go frankly to his
sister, tell her the whole story, and ask for her help, except that he
was thoroughly ashamed of having placed himself in such straits and did
not want to acknowledge it.
Tony Bronson had become intimate with Tom Morgan at St. Asaph's, Tom not
being particular in his choice of friends. In that way he had come to
visit the Morgans in Brenton. His handsome face and apparently perfect
manner attracted many to him who could not see beneath the surface, and
his languid man-of-the-world air made an impression.
He cultivated this to the last degree. He was not naturally so lazy, but
he thought it effective.
When he said to Edith that he wished to tell her something about Neal
Gordon, she looked at him in still greater surprise.
"I want to ask your help, Miss Franklin. A girl can manage these things
so much better than a fellow. I like Gordon immensely, and I want to do
all I can to help him out of a scrape."
"Does he know that you are speaking to me about him?"
"No, of course not. The fact is--"
"Then I think, Mr. Bronson," interrupted Edith, gently, but with
decision, "that perhaps it would be better for us not to discuss him."
"But you quite misunderstand me, Miss Franklin. I am speaking only for
his own good. I can't bear to see a fellow going straight to the bad, as
I really am very much afraid he is, and not lift a finger to help him. I
thought if I told you that perhaps you might speak to his sister--"
Edith interrupted him again, with heightened color. "I can do nothing of
the sort. Nothing would induce me to speak to Mrs. Franklin on the
subject. I--I couldn't possibly."
Bronson looked at her compassionately.
"Ah, it is as I thought! You and Mrs. Franklin are not congenial. I am
so sorry."
Edith said nothing. She knew that he should not make such a remark to
her, a perfect stranger. She felt that he did not ring true. And yet she
could not bring herself to administer the reproof that Cynthia would
have given under like circumstances.
"I am afraid I have offended you," said Bronson, presently; "do forgive
me! And if you like I will say no more about the bad scrape Gordon is
in. I thought perhaps I could prevent a letter coming from the faculty,
but I see it's of no use. I'm awfully sorry for the fellow. You don't
really think you could do anything to influence his sister?"
At last Edith found her voice.
"I don't think I can. And if you don't mind I would rather not discuss
the Gordons--I mean, Mrs. Franklin and her brother."
"Certainly not, if you don't wish, and you won't repeat what I said, of
course. If we can't help him, of course we had better not let it get out
about Gordon any sooner than necessary. But holloa! What's this? The
carpet seems to be getting damp."
It undoubtedly was, and gave forth a most unpleasantly moist sound when
pressed. Upon investigation they found that the bottom of the canoe was
filled with water. They had sprung a leak.
"We had better get back as quickly as possible," said Edith, rather
relieved to have the conversation come to an end. "Is there a sponge
there? I can bail if it gets any worse."
But no sponge was to be found, and it rapidly grew worse; Edith's skirts
were damp and draggled. Presently there was an inch of water above the
carpet.
"We shall sink if this goes on," she said.
"Oh, I fancy not," returned Bronson, easily; "we haven't very far to
go."
But their progress was not rapid, and the pool in the canoe grew deeper.
"Perhaps you will lend me your cap," said Edith; "I can use it as a
dipper." He did so, and she bailed vigorously. "It must be a very large
leak. I suppose we got it on that rock in the rapids, and we scraped
again just before we tied up, which made it worse. If it were our boat I
would not care, but I think it is Neal's."
She was so occupied that she did not see Bronson smile. His smile was
not attractive, though his teeth were perfect.
Matters would have gone badly with them if they had not at this moment
met Jack and Kitty Morgan in the Franklins' canoe.
"What's the row?" called Jack.
"Nothing much," said Bronson. "We've sprung a little leak, that's all."
"A little leak! I should think so. My eye! Why, man, you must have a
regular hole for the water to come in like that. Where have you been,
anyhow? You had better put in here at this little beach and step over
into my boat."
"What's the matter with stepping over right where we are? No need of
going to shore."
Jack eyed him with curiosity and contempt. He looked so much like
Cynthia that Bronson felt withered. He did not care for Cynthia, for he
knew that she did not like him.
Jack did not speak at once, but paddled towards the bank. Then he said:
"You won't try stepping from one canoe to another in mid-stream if I
have anything to say about it."
The change was safely accomplished, and they proceeded down the river
towing the injured boat, the carpet and cushions having been transferred
with the passengers. Relieved of the weight it did not fill as rapidly,
and they at last reached the picnic-ground.
Bronson was mortified at coming back in such ignominious plight, but he
made the best of it.
"I am awfully sorry, Gordon, if it is your canoe. It must have been
pretty frail, though, to go to pieces at a mere scratch."
"She's the finest cedar canoe to be found in the city of Boston, and it
would take more than a mere scratch to do her up this way. From
appearances I should say you had pounded round on the rocks pretty
freely," growled Neal, who had turned the boat upside down, and was
examining it carefully.
Bronson stooped over him. For the moment they were alone.
"Of course I would feel worse about it if it were any one's but yours.
As it is, we'll just call ten off that fifty still owing. That will go
towards repairs. More than cover them, I should say."
Then he sauntered off, his hands in his pockets.
"What a cad the fellow is!" muttered Neal. "It would give me real
pleasure to knock him down."
"I heard him," said Cynthia. Her cheeks were red and her blue eyes had
grown very dark. "He is an odious, hateful creature, and I _de-spise_
him!"
Having delivered herself of this, Cynthia felt better.
They all went home soon afterwards, Edith leaving earlier in the
carriage with Mrs. Franklin, for her shoes and skirts were too wet for
her to wait for the slower movements of the canoes. It was an
unfortunate ending to the day, and Edith was uncomfortable also about
her conversation with Bronson. She knew that she ought not to have
listened to a word of it.
She wondered if it were really true that Neal was in difficulty. She
thought she must talk it over with Cynthia that night. Of course Cynthia
would stand up for Neal, that went without saying, but it was always a
relief to Edith to talk things over with her.
It was a rather silent drive home, and Mrs. Franklin sighed to herself
when Edith barely replied to her remarks. It seemed perfectly hopeless;
she and Edith would never grow any nearer to each other; but there was
nothing to be done.
That night, when the girls went to their room, Edith was spared the
necessity of opening the subject, for Cynthia began at once.
"What a perfectly hateful creature that Bronson is! I don't see how you
could go on the river with him, Edith. I think you got well paid for
it."
"I don't see why you dislike him so, Cynthia. You take such tremendous
prejudices. He is awfully handsome."
"Handsome! I don't admire that style. That
la-da-da-it-is-I-just-please-look-at-me kind doesn't go down with me."
Cynthia thrust her hands into imaginary pockets, leaned languidly
against the bedpost, and rolled her eyes.
"Er--Miss Franklin--carn't I persuade you to go out on the rivah?" she
said, with an exaggerated manner and accent, and a throaty voice.
Edith laughed. Cynthia was a capital mimic.
"I like a broad A, and, of course, I never would use anything else
myself, but his is broader than the Mississippi. It just shows it isn't
natural to him. To hear him talk about 'darmp grarss,' and he'd just
come from 'South_armp_ton.' He is a regular _sharm_ himself. I dare say
he was brought up to say 'ca'm' and 'pa'm' and 'hain't' and 'ain't.'"
"Cynthia, what a goose you are!"
"Well, I can't bear him, and neither can Neal. Jack doesn't like him
either."
"There, that is just it. You are so influenced by Neal and Jack. Tony
Bronson spoke very nicely of Neal, as if he were a true friend of his."
"Pooh! Much friend he!"
"Well, he did, Cynthia, and that is just what I want to talk over with
you. Neal must be in some terrible scrape."
"Has that Bronson been telling you about that?" cried Cynthia,
indignantly.
"Oh, then it is really true! I thought it must be."
"No, it isn't--at least, not what Bronson told you. I am just certain
that whatever he told you wasn't true," said Cynthia, who felt that she
had said more than she should. "I shouldn't think you would have
discussed Neal with him. Neal is one of our family."
"I didn't," said Edith, somewhat curtly, "though I don't exactly see why
you should speak of Neal Gordon as one of our family. I told Mr. Bronson
I preferred not to talk about him. But he spoke so nicely of Neal, and
said he wanted to help him, and he was afraid the faculty would write
about him, and he wanted to get him out of the | 1,141.934987 |
2023-11-16 18:36:05.9177360 | 7,436 | 145 |
Produced by John Bickers, Bonnie Sala, and Dagny
BUREAUCRACY
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Katharine Prescott Wormeley
DEDICATION
To the Comtesse Seraphina San Severino, with the respectful
homage of sincere and deep admiration
De Balzac
BUREAUCRACY
CHAPTER I. THE RABOURDIN HOUSEHOLD
In Paris, where men of thought and study bear a certain likeness to one
another, living as they do in a common centre, you must have met with
several resembling Monsieur Rabourdin, whose acquaintance we are about
to make at a moment when he is head of a bureau in one of our most
important ministries. At this period he was forty years old, with gray
hair of so pleasing a shade that women might at a pinch fall in love
with it for it softened a somewhat melancholy countenance, blue eyes
full of fire, a skin that was still fair, though rather ruddy and
touched here and there with strong red marks; a forehead and nose a la
Louis XV., a serious mouth, a tall figure, thin, or perhaps wasted, like
that of a man just recovering from illness, and finally, a bearing that
was midway between the indolence of a mere idler and the thoughtfulness
of a busy man. If this portrait serves to depict his character, a sketch
of this man's dress will bring it still further into relief. Rabourdin
wore habitually a blue surcoat, a white cravat, a waistcoat crossed a la
Robespierre, black trousers without straps, gray silk stockings and low
shoes. Well-shaved, and with his stomach warmed by a cup of coffee, he
left home at eight in the morning with the regularity of clock-work,
always passing along the same streets on his way to the ministry: so
neat was he, so formal, so starched that he might have been taken for an
Englishman on the road to his embassy.
From these general signs you will readily discern a family man,
harassed by vexations in his own household, worried by annoyances at the
ministry, yet philosopher enough to take life as he found it; an honest
man, loving his country and serving it, not concealing from himself the
obstacles in the way of those who seek to do right; prudent, because he
knew men; exquisitely courteous with women, of whom he asked nothing,--a
man full of acquirements, affable with his inferiors, holding his equals
at great distance, and dignified towards his superiors. At the epoch of
which we write, you would have noticed in him the coldly resigned air of
one who has buried the illusions of his youth and renounced every secret
ambition; you would have recognized a discouraged, but not disgusted
man, one who still clings to his first projects,--more perhaps to
employ his faculties than in the hope of a doubtful success. He was not
decorated with any order, and always accused himself of weakness
for having worn that of the Fleur-de-lis in the early days of the
Restoration.
The life of this man was marked by certain mysterious peculiarities.
He had never known his father; his mother, a woman to whom luxury was
everything, always elegantly dressed, always on pleasure bent, whose
beauty seemed to him miraculous and whom he very seldom saw, left
him little at her death; but she had given him that too common and
incomplete education which produces so much ambition and so little
ability. A few days before his mother's death, when he was just sixteen,
he left the Lycee Napoleon to enter as supernumerary a government
office, where an unknown protector had provided him with a place.
At twenty-two years of age Rabourdin became under-head-clerk; at
twenty-five, head-clerk, or, as it was termed, head of the bureau. From
that day the hand that assisted the young man to start in life was never
felt again in his career, except as to a single circumstance; it led
him, poor and friendless, to the house of a Monsieur Leprince, formerly
an auctioneer, a widower said to be extremely rich, and father of
an only daughter. Xavier Rabourdin fell desperately in love with
Mademoiselle Celestine Leprince, then seventeen years of age, who had
all the matrimonial claims of a dowry of two hundred thousand francs.
Carefully educated by an artistic mother, who transmitted her own
talents to her daughter, this young lady was fitted to attract
distinguished men. Tall, handsome, and finely-formed, she was a good
musician, drew and painted, spoke several languages, and even knew
something of science,--a dangerous advantage, which requires a woman
to avoid carefully all appearance of pedantry. Blinded by mistaken
tenderness, the mother gave the daughter false ideas as to her probable
future; to the maternal eyes a duke or an ambassador, a marshal of
France or a minister of State, could alone give her Celestine her due
place in society. The young lady had, moreover, the manners, language,
and habits of the great world. Her dress was richer and more elegant
than was suitable for an unmarried girl; a husband could give her
nothing more than she now had, except happiness. Besides all such
indulgences, the foolish spoiling of the mother, who died a year after
the girl's marriage, made a husband's task all the more difficult.
What coolness and composure of mind were needed to rule such a woman!
Commonplace suitors held back in fear. Xavier Rabourdin, without parents
and without fortune other than his situation under government, was
proposed to Celestine by her father. She resisted for a long time;
not that she had any personal objection to her suitor, who was young,
handsome, and much in love, but she shrank from the plain name of Madame
Rabourdin. Monsieur Leprince assured his daughter that Xavier was of
the stock that statesmen came of. Celestine answered that a man named
Rabourdin would never be anything under the government of the Bourbons,
etc. Forced back to his intrenchments, the father made the serious
mistake of telling his daughter that her future husband was certain of
becoming Rabourdin "de something or other" before he reached the age
of admission to the Chamber. Xavier was soon to be appointed Master of
petitions, and general-secretary at his ministry. From these lower steps
of the ladder the young man would certainly rise to the higher ranks of
the administration, possessed of a fortune and a name bequeathed to him
in a certain will of which he, Monsieur Leprince, was cognizant. On this
the marriage took place.
Rabourdin and his wife believed in the mysterious protector to whom
the auctioneer alluded. Led away by such hopes and by the natural
extravagance of happy love, Monsieur and Madame Rabourdin spent nearly
one hundred thousand francs of their capital in the first five years
of married life. By the end of this time Celestine, alarmed at the
non-advancement of her husband, insisted on investing the remaining
hundred thousand francs of her dowry in landed property, which returned
only a slender income; but her future inheritance from her father would
amply repay all present privations with perfect comfort and ease of
life. When the worthy auctioneer saw his son-in-law disappointed of the
hopes they had placed on the nameless protector, he tried, for the
sake of his daughter, to repair the secret loss by risking part of his
fortune in a speculation which had favourable chances of success. But
the poor man became involved in one of the liquidations of the house of
Nucingen, and died of grief, leaving nothing behind him but a dozen fine
pictures which adorned his daughter's salon, and a few old-fashioned
pieces of furniture, which she put in the garret.
Eight years of fruitless expectation made Madame Rabourdin at last
understand that the paternal protector of her husband must have died,
and that his will, if it ever existed, was lost or destroyed. Two years
before her father's death the place of chief of division, which became
vacant, was given, over her husband's head, to a certain Monsieur de la
Billardiere, related to a deputy of the Right who was made minister in
1823. It was enough to drive Rabourdin out of the service; but how could
he give up his salary of eight thousand francs and perquisites, when
they constituted three fourths of his income and his household was
accustomed to spend them? Besides, if he had patience for a few more
years he would then be entitled to a pension. What a fall was this for
a woman whose high expectations at the opening of her life were more or
less warranted, and one who was admitted on all sides to be a superior
woman.
Madame Rabourdin had justified the expectations formed of Mademoiselle
Leprince; she possessed the elements of that apparent superiority which
pleases the world; her liberal education enabled her to speak to every
one in his or her own language; her talents were real; she showed an
independent and elevated mind; her conversation charmed as much by its
variety and ease as by the oddness and originality of her ideas. Such
qualities, useful and appropriate in a sovereign or an ambassadress,
were of little service to a household compelled to jog in the common
round. Those who have the gift of speaking well desire an audience;
they like to talk, even if they sometimes weary others. To satisfy the
requirements of her mind Madame Rabourdin took a weekly reception-day
and went a great deal into society to obtain the consideration her
self-love was accustomed to enjoy. Those who know Parisian life will
readily understand how a woman of her temperament suffered, and was
martyrized at heart by the scantiness of her pecuniary means. No matter
what foolish declarations people make about money, they one and all, if
they live in Paris, must grovel before accounts, do homage to figures,
and kiss the forked hoof of the golden calf. What a problem was hers!
twelve thousand francs a year to defray the costs of a household
consisting of father, mother, two children, a chambermaid and cook,
living on the second floor of a house in the rue Duphot, in an apartment
costing two thousand francs a year. Deduct the dress and the carriage of
Madame before you estimate the gross expenses of the family, for dress
precedes everything; then see what remains for the education of the
children (a girl of eight and a boy of nine, whose maintenance must
cost at least two thousand francs besides) and you will find that Madame
Rabourdin could barely afford to give her husband thirty francs a month.
That is the position of half the husbands in Paris, under penalty of
being thought monsters.
Thus it was that this woman who believed herself destined to shine in
the world was condemned to use her mind and her faculties in a sordid
struggle, fighting hand to hand with an account-book. Already, terrible
sacrifice of pride! she had dismissed her man-servant, not long after
the death of her father. Most women grow weary of this daily struggle;
they complain but they usually end by giving up to fate and taking what
comes to them; Celestine's ambition, far from lessening, only increased
through difficulties, and led her, when she found she could not conquer
them, to sweep them aside. To her mind this complicated tangle of the
affairs of life was a Gordian knot impossible to untie and which
genius ought to cut. Far from accepting the pettiness of middle-class
existence, she was angry at the delay which kept the great things of
life from her grasp,--blaming fate as deceptive. Celestine sincerely
believed herself a superior woman. Perhaps she was right; perhaps she
would have been great under great circumstances; perhaps she was not in
her right place. Let us remember there are as many varieties of woman as
there are of man, all of which society fashions to meet its needs. Now
in the social order, as in Nature's order, there are more young shoots
than there are trees, more spawn than full-grown fish, and many great
capacities (Athanase Granson, for instance) which die withered for want
of moisture, like seeds on stony ground. There are, unquestionably,
household women, accomplished women, ornamental women, women who are
exclusively wives, or mothers, or sweethearts, women purely spiritual
or purely material; just as there are soldiers, artists, artisans,
mathematicians, poets, merchants, men who understand money, or
agriculture, or government, and nothing else. Besides all this, the
eccentricity of events leads to endless cross-purposes; many are called
and few are chosen is the law of earth as of heaven. Madame Rabourdin
conceived herself fully capable of directing a statesman, inspiring an
artist, helping an inventor and pushing his interests, or of devoting
her powers to the financial politics of a Nucingen, and playing a
brilliant part in the great world. Perhaps she was only endeavouring to
excuse to her own mind a hatred for the laundry lists and the duty of
overlooking the housekeeping bills, together with the petty economies
and cares of a small establishment. She was superior only in those
things where it gave her pleasure to be so. Feeling as keenly as she
did the thorns of a position which can only be likened to that of
Saint-Laurence on his grid-iron, is it any wonder that she sometimes
cried out? So, in her paroxysms of thwarted ambition, in the moments
when her wounded vanity gave her terrible shooting pains, Celestine
turned upon Xavier Rabourdin. Was it not her husband's duty to give her
a suitable position in the world? If she were a man she would have had
the energy to make a rapid fortune for the sake of rendering an adored
wife happy! She reproached him for being too honest a man. In the mouth
of some women this accusation is a charge of imbecility. She sketched
out for him certain brilliant plans in which she took no account of the
hindrances imposed by men and things; then, like all women under the
influence of vehement feeling, she became in thought as Machiavellian
as Gondreville, and more unprincipled than Maxime de Trailles. At such
times Celestine's mind took a wide range, and she imagined herself at
the summit of her ideas.
When these fine visions first began Rabourdin, who saw the practical
side, was cool. Celestine, much grieved, thought her husband
narrow-minded, timid, unsympathetic; and she acquired, insensibly, a
wholly false opinion of the companion of her life. In the first place,
she often extinguished him by the brilliancy of her arguments. Her ideas
came to her in flashes, and she sometimes stopped him short when he
began an explanation, because she did not choose to lose the slightest
sparkle of her own mind. From the earliest days of their marriage
Celestine, feeling herself beloved and admired by her husband, treated
him without ceremony; she put herself above conjugal laws and the
rules of private courtesy by expecting love to pardon all her little
wrong-doings; and, as she never in any way corrected herself, she was
always in the ascendant. In such a situation the man holds to the wife
very much the position of a child to a teacher when the latter cannot or
will not recognize that the mind he has ruled in childhood is becoming
mature. Like Madame de Stael, who exclaimed in a room full of people,
addressing, as we may say, a greater man than herself, "Do you know you
have really said something very profound!" Madame Rabourdin said of
her husband: "He certainly has a good deal of sense at times." Her
disparaging opinion of him gradually appeared in her behavior through
almost imperceptible motions. Her attitude and manners expressed a want
of respect. Without being aware of it she injured her husband in the
eyes of others; for in all countries society, before making up its mind
about a man, listens for what his wife thinks of him, and obtains from
her what the Genevese term "pre-advice."
When Rabourdin became aware of the mistakes which love had led him to
commit it was too late,--the groove had been cut; he suffered and
was silent. Like other men in whom sentiments and ideas are of equal
strength, whose souls are noble and their brains well balanced, he was
the defender of his wife before the tribunal of his own judgment; he
told himself that nature doomed her to a disappointed life through his
fault; HIS; she was like a thoroughbred English horse, a racer harnessed
to a cart full of stones; she it was who suffered; and he blamed
himself. His wife, by dint of constant repetition, had inoculated him
with her own belief in herself. Ideas are contagious in a household; the
ninth thermidor, like so many other portentous events, was the result
of female influence. Thus, goaded by Celestine's ambition, Rabourdin had
long considered the means of satisfying it, though he hid his hopes, so
as to spare her the tortures of uncertainty. The man was firmly resolved
to make his way in the administration by bringing a strong light to bear
upon it. He intended to bring about one of those revolutions which send
a man to the head of either one party or another in society; but being
incapable of so doing in his own interests, he merely pondered useful
thoughts and dreamed of triumphs won for his country by noble means. His
ideas were both generous and ambitious; few officials have not
conceived the like; but among officials as among artists there are more
miscarriages than births; which is tantamount to Buffon's saying that
"Genius is patience."
Placed in a position where he could study French administration and
observe its mechanism, Rabourdin worked in the circle where his thought
revolved, which, we may remark parenthetically, is the secret of much
human accomplishment; and his labor culminated finally in the invention
of a new system for the Civil Service of government. Knowing the people
with whom he had to do, he maintained the machine as it then worked, so
it still works and will continue to work; for everybody fears to remodel
it, though no one, according to Rabourdin, ought to be unwilling to
simplify it. In his opinion, the problem to be resolved lay in a better
use of the same forces. His plan, in its simplest form, was to revise
taxation and lower it in a way that should not diminish the revenues of
the State, and to obtain, from a budget equal to the budgets which now
excite such rabid discussion, results that should be two-fold greater
than the present results. Long practical experience had taught Rabourdin
that perfection is brought about in all things by changes in the
direction of simplicity. To economize is to simplify. To simplify
means to suppress unnecessary machinery; removals naturally follow.
His system, therefore, depended on the weeding out of officials and the
establishment of a new order of administrative offices. No doubt the
hatred which all reformers incur takes its rise here. Removals required
by this perfecting process, always ill-understood, threaten the
well-being of those on whom a change in their condition is thus forced.
What rendered Rabourdin really great was that he was able to restrain
the enthusiasm that possesses all reformers, and to patiently seek out a
slow evolving medium for all changes so as to avoid shocks, leaving time
and experience to prove the excellence of each reform. The grandeur of
the result anticipated might make us doubt its possibility if we lose
sight of this essential point in our rapid analysis of his system. It
is, therefore, not unimportant to show through his self-communings,
however incomplete they might be, the point of view from which he looked
at the administrative horizon. This tale, which is evolved from the very
heart of the Civil Service, may also serve to show some of the evils of
our present social customs.
Xavier Rabourdin, deeply impressed by the trials and poverty which he
witnessed in the lives of the government clerks, endeavored to ascertain
the cause of their growing deterioration. He found it in those petty
partial revolutions, the eddies, as it were, of the storm of 1789,
which the historians of great social movements neglect to inquire into,
although as a matter of fact it is they which have made our manners and
customs what they are now.
Formerly, under the monarchy, the bureaucratic armies did not exist.
The clerks, few in number, were under the orders of a prime minister who
communicated with the sovereign; thus they directly served the king. The
superiors of these zealous servants were simply called head-clerks. In
those branches of administration which the king did not himself direct,
such for instance as the "fermes" (the public domains throughout
the country on which a revenue was levied), the clerks were to their
superior what the clerks of a business-house are to their employer; they
learned a science which would one day advance them to prosperity. Thus,
all points of the circumference were fastened to the centre and derived
their life from it. The result was devotion and confidence. Since 1789
the State, call it the Nation if you like, has replaced the sovereign.
Instead of looking directly to the chief magistrate of this nation,
the clerks have become, in spite of our fine patriotic ideas, the
subsidiaries of the government; their superiors are blown about by the
winds of a power called "the administration," and do not know from
day to day where they may be on the morrow. As the routine of public
business must go on, a certain number of indispensable clerks are kept
in their places, though they hold these places on sufferance, anxious as
they are to retain them. Bureaucracy, a gigantic power set in motion by
dwarfs, was generated in this way. Though Napoleon, by subordinating
all things and all men to his will, retarded for a time the influence of
bureaucracy (that ponderous curtain hung between the service to be
done and the man who orders it), it was permanently organized under
the constitutional government, which was, inevitably, the friend of
all mediocrities, the lover of authentic documents and accounts, and as
meddlesome as an old tradeswoman. Delighted to see the various ministers
constantly struggling against the four hundred petty minds of the
Elected of the Chamber, with their ten or a dozen ambitious and
dishonest leaders, the Civil Service officials hastened to make
themselves essential to the warfare by adding their quota of assistance
under the form of written action; they created a power of inertia and
named it "Report." Let us explain the Report.
When the kings of France took to themselves ministers, which first
happened under Louis XV., they made them render reports on all important
questions, instead of holding, as formerly, grand councils of state with
the nobles. Under the constitutional government, the ministers of the
various departments were insensibly led by their bureaus to imitate this
practice of kings. Their time being taken up in defending themselves
before the two Chambers and the court, they let themselves be guided by
the leading-strings of the Report. Nothing important was ever brought
before the government that a minister did not say, even when the case
was urgent, "I have called for a report." The Report thus became, both
as to the matter concerned and for the minister himself, the same as
a report to the Chamber of Deputies on a question of laws,--namely, a
disquisition in which the reasons for and against are stated with more
or less partiality. No real result is attained; the minister, like
the Chamber, is fully as well prepared before as after the report is
rendered. A determination, in whatever matter, is reached in an instant.
Do what we will, the moment comes when the decision must be made. The
greater the array of reasons for and against, the less sound will be
the judgment. The finest things of which France can boast have been
accomplished without reports and where decisions were prompt and
spontaneous. The dominant law of a statesman is to apply precise formula
to all cases, after the manner of judges and physicians.
Rabourdin, who said to himself: "A minister should have decision, should
know public affairs, and direct their course," saw "Report" rampant
throughout France, from the colonel to the marshal, from the commissary
of police to the king, from the prefects to the ministers of state,
from the Chamber to the courts. After 1818 everything was discussed,
compared, and weighed, either in speech or writing; public business
took a literary form. France went to ruin in spite of this array of
documents; dissertations stood in place of action; a million of reports
were written every year; bureaucracy was enthroned! Records, statistics,
documents, failing which France would have been ruined, circumlocution,
without which there could be no advance, increased, multiplied, and grew
majestic. From that day forth bureaucracy used to its own profit the
mistrust that stands between receipts and expenditures; it degraded the
administration for the benefit of the administrators; in short, it
spun those lilliputian threads which have chained France to Parisian
centralization,--as if from 1500 to 1800 France had undertaken nothing
for want of thirty thousand government clerks! In fastening upon public
offices, like a mistletoe on a pear-tree, these officials indemnified
themselves amply, and in the following manner.
The ministers, compelled to obey the princes or the Chambers who impose
upon them the distribution of the public moneys, and forced to retain
the workers in office, proceeded to diminish salaries and increase the
number of those workers, thinking that if more persons were employed by
government the stronger the government would be. And yet the contrary
law is an axiom written on the universe; there is no vigor except where
there are few active principles. Events proved in July, 1830, the error
of the materialism of the Restoration. To plant a government in the
hearts of a nation it is necessary to bind INTERESTS to it, not MEN. The
government-clerks being led to detest the administrations which lessened
both their salaries and their importance, treated them as a courtesan
treats an aged lover, and gave them mere work for money; a state of
things which would have seemed as intolerable to the administration as
to the clerks, had the two parties dared to feel each other's pulse,
or had the higher salaries not succeeded in stifling the voices of the
lower. Thus wholly and solely occupied in retaining his place, drawing
his pay, and securing his pension, the government official thought
everything permissible that conduced to these results. This state
of things led to servility on the part of the clerks and to endless
intrigues within the various departments, where the humbler clerks
struggled vainly against degenerate members of the aristocracy, who
sought positions in the government bureaus for their ruined sons.
Superior men could scarcely bring themselves to tread these tortuous
ways, to stoop, to cringe, and creep through the mire of these cloacas,
where the presence of a fine mind only alarmed the other denizens. The
ambitious man of genius grows old in obtaining his triple crown; he does
not follow in the steps of Sixtus the Fifth merely to become head of
a bureau. No one comes or stays in the government offices but idlers,
incapables, or fools. Thus the mediocrity of French administration has
slowly come about. Bureaucracy, made up entirely of petty minds, stands
as an obstacle to the prosperity of the nation; delays for seven years,
by its machinery, the project of a canal which would have stimulated
the production of a province; is afraid of everything, prolongs
procrastination, and perpetuates the abuses which in turn perpetuate and
consolidate itself. Bureaucracy holds all things and the administration
itself in leading strings; it stifles men of talent who are bold enough
to be independent of it or to enlighten it on its own follies. About the
time of which we write the pension list had just been issued, and on it
Rabourdin saw the name of an underling in office rated for a larger sum
than the old colonels, maimed and wounded for their country. In that
fact lies the whole history of bureaucracy.
Another evil, brought about by modern customs, which Rabourdin counted
among the causes of this secret demoralization, was the fact that
there is no real subordination in the administration in Paris; complete
equality reigns between the head of an important division and the
humblest copying-clerk; one is as powerful as the other in an arena
outside of which each lords it in his own way. Education, equally
distributed through the masses, brings the son of a porter into a
government office to decide the fate of some man of merit or some landed
proprietor whose door-bell his father may have answered. The last comer
is therefore on equal terms with the oldest veteran in the service. A
wealthy supernumerary splashes his superior as he drives his tilbury
to Longchamps and points with his whip to the poor father of a family,
remarking to the pretty woman at his side, "That's my chief." The
Liberals call this state of things Progress; Rabourdin thought it
Anarchy at the heart of power. He saw how it resulted in restless
intrigues, like those of a harem between eunuchs and women and imbecile
sultans, or the petty troubles of nuns full of underhand vexations,
or college tyrannies, or diplomatic manoeuvrings fit to terrify an
ambassador, all put in motion to obtain a fee or an increase in salary;
it was like the hopping of fleas harnessed to pasteboard cars, the
spitefulness of slaves, often visited on the minister himself. With all
this were the really useful men, the workers, victims of such parasites;
men sincerely devoted to their country, who stood vigorously out from
the background of the other incapables, yet who were often forced to
succumb through unworthy trickery.
All the higher offices were gained through parliamentary influence,
royalty had nothing to do now with them, and the subordinate clerks
became, after a time, merely the running-gear of the machine; the
most important considerations with them being to keep the wheels well
greased. This fatal conviction entering some of the best minds smothered
many statements conscientiously written on the secret evils of the
national government; lowered the courage of many hearts, and corrupted
sterling honesty, weary of injustice and won to indifference by
deteriorating annoyances. A clerk in the employ of the Rothchilds
corresponds with all England; another, in a government office, may
communicate with all the prefects; but where the one learns the way to
make his fortune, the other loses time and health and life to no
avail. An undermining evil lies here. Certainly a nation does not seem
threatened with immediate dissolution because an able clerk is sent away
and a middling sort of man replaces him. Unfortunately for the welfare
of nations individual men never seem essential to their existence. But
in the long run when the belittling process is fully carried out nations
will disappear. Every one who seeks instruction on this point can look
at Venice, Madrid, Amsterdam, Stockholm, Rome; all places which were
formerly resplendent with mighty powers and are now destroyed by the
infiltrating littleness which gradually attained the highest eminence.
When the day of struggle came, all was found rotten, the State succumbed
to a weak attack. To worship the fool who succeeds, and not to grieve
over the fall of an able man is the result of our melancholy education,
of our manners and customs which drive men of intellect into disgust,
and genius to despair.
What a difficult undertaking is the rehabilitation of the Civil Service
while the liberal cries aloud in his newspapers that the salaries of
clerks are a standing theft, calls the items of the budget a cluster of
leeches, and every year demands why the nation should be saddled with
a thousand millions of taxes. In Monsieur Rabourdin's eyes the clerk in
relation to the budget was very much what the gambler is to the
game; that which he wins he puts back again. All remuneration implies
something furnished. To pay a man a thousand francs a year and demand
his whole time was surely to organize theft and poverty. A galley-slave
costs nearly as much, and does less. But to expect a man whom the State
remunerated with twelve thousand francs a year to devote himself to
his country was a profitable contract for both sides, fit to allure all
capacities.
These reflections had led Rabourdin to desire the recasting of the
clerical official staff. To employ fewer man, to double or treble
salaries, and do away with pensions, to choose only young clerks (as did
Napoleon, Louis XIV., Richelieu, and Ximenes), but to keep them long and
train them for the higher offices and greatest honors, these were the
chief features of a reform which if carried out would be as beneficial
| 1,141.937776 |
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MY DANISH SWEETHEART
A Novel
BY W. CLARK RUSSELL
AUTHOR OF 'THE WRECK OF THE GROSVENOR,' 'THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL
LORD COLLINGWOOD,' 'A MARRIAGE AT SEA,' ETC., ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. III.
Methuen & Co.
18, BURY STREET, LONDON, W.C.
1891
[_All rights reserved_]
CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. WE SPEAK A SHIP 1
II. I MAKE FREE 34
III. JOPPA IS IN EARNEST 58
IV. A NIGHT OF HORROR 87
V. A CONFERENCE 116
VI. HELGA'S PLOT 146
VII. FIRE! 177
VIII. HOME 221
MY DANISH SWEETHEART.
CHAPTER I.
WE SPEAK A SHIP.
On the afternoon of this same day of Tuesday, October 31, Helga having
gone to her cabin, I stepped on deck to smoke a pipe--for my pipe was in
my pocket when I ran to the lifeboat, and Captain Bunting had given me a
square of tobacco to cut up.
We had dined at one. During the course of the meal Helga and I had said
but very little, willing that the Captain should have the labour of
talking. Nor did he spare us. His tongue, as sailors say, seemed to have
been slung in the middle, and it wagged at both ends. His chatter was an
infinite variety of nothing; but he spoke with singular enjoyment of
the sound of his own voice, with ceaseless reference, besides, in his
manner, to Helga, whom he continued silently and self-complacently to
regard in a way that rendered her constantly uneasy, and kept her
downward-looking and silent.
But nothing more at that table was said about our leaving his ship.
Indeed, both Helga and I had agreed to drop the subject until an
opportunity for our transference should arrive. We might, at all events,
be very certain that he would not set us ashore in the Canary Islands;
nor did I consider it politic to press him to land us there, for,
waiving all consideration of other reasons which might induce him to
detain us, it would have been unreasonable to entreat him to go out of
his course to oblige us, who were without the means to repay him for his
trouble and for loss of time.
He withdrew to his cabin after dinner. Helga and I sat over his
draughtboard for half an hour; she then went below, and I, as I have
already said, on deck, to smoke a pipe.
The wind had freshened since noon, and was now blowing a brisk and
sparkling breeze out of something to the northward of east; sail had
been heaped upon the barque, and when I gained the deck I found her
swarming through it under overhanging wings of studdingsail, a broad
wake of frost-like foam stretching behind, and many flying fish sparking
out of the blue curl from the vessel's cutwater ere the polished round
of brine flashed into foam abreast of the fore-rigging. Mr. Jones
stumped the deck, having relieved Abraham at noon. The fierce-faced,
lemon- creature with withered brow and fiery glances grasped the
wheel. As I crouched under the lee of the companion-hatch to light my
pipe, I curiously and intently inspected him; strangely enough, finding
no hindrance of embarrassment from his staring at me too; which, I take
it, was owing to his exceeding ugliness, so that I looked at him as at
something out of nature, whose sensibilities were not of a human sort to
grieve me with a fancy of vexing them.
'Well, Mr. Jones,' said I, crossing the deck and accosting the shabby
figure of the mate as he slouched from one end to another in shambling
slippers and in a cap with | 1,145.641412 |
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Produced by Curtis Weyant, Julia Neufeld and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
The carat character (^) indicates that the following letter is
superscripted. If two or more letters are superscripted they are
enclosed in curly brackets (example: M^{R.}).
* * * * *
[Illustration: titlepage]
[Illustration: _J. Rodgers, sc._
_View of the Senate of the United States in Session._
M^{R.} BENTON ON THE FLOOR.
_from a large Engraving Published by E. Anthony_
New York, D Appleton & C^{o.}]
THIRTY YEARS' VIEW;
OR,
A HISTORY OF THE WORKING OF THE AMERICAN
GOVERNMENT FOR THIRTY YEARS,
FROM 1820 TO 1850.
CHIEFLY TAKEN
FROM THE CONGRESS DEBATES, THE PRIVATE PAPERS OF GENERAL JACKSON,
AND THE SPEECHES OF EX-SENATOR BENTON, WITH HIS
ACTUAL VIEW OF MEN AND AFFAIRS:
WITH
HISTORICAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, AND SOME NOTICES OF EMINENT
DECEASED COTEMPORARIES.
BY A SENATOR OF THIRTY YEARS.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET.
LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN.
1883.
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1856, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
CHAP. PAGE
I. Inauguration of Mr. Van Buren 7
II. Financial and Monetary Crisis--General Suspension
of Specie Payments by the Banks 9
III. Preparation for the Distress and Suspension 11
IV. Progress of the Distress, and Preliminaries
for the Suspension 16
V. Actual Suspension of the Banks--Propagation
of the Alarm 20
VI. Transmigration of the Bank of the United
States from a Federal to a State Institution 23
VII. Effects of the Suspension--General Derangement
of Business--Suppression and Ridicule
of the Specie Currency--Submission
of the People--Call of Congress 26
VIII. Extra Session--Message, and Recommendations 28
IX. Attacks on the Message--Treasury Notes 32
X. Retention of the Fourth Deposit Instalment 36
XI. Independent Treasury and Hard Money Payments 39
XII. Attempted Resumption of Specie Payments 42
XIII. Bankrupt Act against Banks 43
XIV. Bankrupt Act for Banks--Mr. Benton's
Speech 45
XV. Divorce of Bank and State--Mr. Benton's
Speech 56
XVI. First Regular Session under Mr. Van Buren's
Administration--His Message 65
XVII. Pennsylvania Bank of the United States--Its
Use of the Defunct Notes of the expired
Institution 67
XVIII. Florida Indian War--Its Origin and Conduct 70
XIX. Florida Indian War--Historical Speech of
Mr. Benton 72
XX. Resumption of Specie Payments by the New
York Banks 83
XXI. Resumption of Specie Payments--Historical
Notices--Mr. Benton's Speech--Extracts 85
XXII. Mr. Clay's Resolution in Favor of Resuming
Banks, and Mr. Benton's Remarks
upon it 91
XXIII. Resumption by the Pennsylvania United
States Bank; and others which followed
her lead 94
XXIV. Proposed Annexation of Texas--Mr. Preston's
Motion and Speech--Extracts 94
XXV. Debate between Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun,
Personal and Political, and leading
to Expositions and Vindications of
Public Conduct which belong to History 97
XXVI. Debate between Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun--Mr.
Clay's Speech--Extracts 101
XXVII. Debate between Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun--Mr.
Calhoun's Speech--Extracts 103
XXVIII. Debate between Mr. Clay and Mr. Calhoun--Rejoinders
by each 112
XXIX. Independent Treasury, or, Divorce of
Bank and State--Passed in the Senate--Lost
in the House of Representatives 124
XXX. Public Lands--Graduation of Price--Pre-emption
System--Taxation when Sold 125
XXXI. Specie Basis for Banks--One-third of the
Amount of Liabilities the Lowest Safe
Proportion--Speech of Mr. Benton on
the Recharter of the District Banks 128
XXXII. The North and the South--Comparative
Prosperity--Southern Discontent--Its
True Cause 130
XXXIII. Progress of the Slavery Agitation--Mr. Calhoun's
Approval of the Missouri Compromise 134
XXXIV. Death of Commodore Rodgers, and Notice
of his Life and Character 144
XXXV | 1,145.642982 |
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Wood-Pigeons and Mary
By Mrs Molesworth
Illustrations by H.R. Millar
Published by Macmillan and Co, Limited, London.
This edition dated 1901.
The Wood-Pigeons and Mary, by Mrs Molesworth.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
THE WOOD-PIGEONS AND MARY, BY MRS MOLESWORTH.
CHAPTER ONE.
"SUCH BIG TEARS."
"Mary is crying," said Mr Coo.
"No!" replied Mrs Coo.
But Mr Coo said again--
"Mary is crying," and though Mrs Coo repeated--
"No!" she knew by the way he held his head on one side and looked at
her, that he was very much in earnest indeed.
I must tell you that when Mrs Coo said `no,' it went off into a soft
sound that was almost like `coo'; indeed most of her talking, and of Mr
Coo's too, sounded like that, which is the reason, I daresay, that many
people would not have understood their conversation. But it would be
rather tiresome to write "no," or other words, with double o's at the
end, so I will leave it to be fancied, which will do just as well.
There is a great deal of conversation in the world which careless people
don't understand; a great deal which _no one_ can understand properly,
however much they try; but also a great deal that one _can_ get to
understand, if one tries, even without the gift which the dear fairy
bestowed on the very lucky prince in the long ago story. I forget his
name, but I daresay some of you remember it. The gift was the power to
understand all that the beasts and birds say.
This very morning the wind has been talking to me a good deal--it was
the south wind, and her stories are always very sweet, though sometimes
sad, yet I understand a good deal of them.
After this second "No," Mr and Mrs Coo sat looking at each other for a
moment or two, without speaking.
Then said Mr Coo--
"It must be something--serious. For Mary scarcely ever cries."
"True," said Mrs Coo, "true | 1,145.643115 |
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Philatelic Digital Library Project at http://www.tpdlp.net
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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Transcriber's Notes
This is a Plain Text version. It uses the 7-bit ASCII character set.
Accented characters are represented as follows:
['a] indicates the acute accent
[e'] indicates the grave accent
[^i] indicates the circumflex accent
[:u] indicates the umlaut
The following are used to represent special characters and marks:
[~d] [~r] [~n] indicates a tilde above d, r, n
[p=] indicates a line below p
[=o] [=co] [=xon] indicate an overline above 1, 2 or 3 characters
[^p] indicates an inverted breve above p
[oe] indicates an oe ligature
[L] indicates the pound (Sterling) sign
[S] indicates the Section symbol
Italic typeface in the original is indicated with _underscores_. Bold
typeface in the original is indicated by UPPER CASE. Small capital
typeface in the original is indicated by UPPER CASE.
There are a large number of footnotes. These have been grouped together
at end of each chapter or major section in which they are referenced.
There are numerous quotations from documents in German, French and
archaic English which use many abbreviations, variant spellings and
inconsistent spellings. These are retained, except where obvious typo
corrections are listed at the end of this document.
* * * * *
STUDIES IN ECONOMICS AND POLITICAL SCIENCE.
EDITED BY THE HON. W. PEMBER REEVES, PH.D., _Director of the London
School of Economics and Political Science._
No. 50 in the Series of Monographs by writers connected with the London
School of Economics and Political Science.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF RATES OF POSTAGE
* * * * *
THE DEVELOPMENT OF
RATES OF POSTAGE
AN HISTORICAL AND
ANALYTICAL STUDY
BY
A. D. SMITH, B.Sc. (ECON.)
OF THE SECRETARY'S OFFICE,
GENERAL POST OFFICE, LONDON
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
THE RIGHT HON. HERBERT SAMUEL, M.P.
POSTMASTER-GENERAL 1910-14 AND 1915-16
LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD.
RUSKIN HOUSE 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. 1
[_Thesis approved for the Degree of Doctor of Science_ (Economics) _in
the University of London_]
_First published in 1917_
(_All rights reserved_)
PREFACE
This study, which was prepared primarily as a Research Studentship
Report for the University of London, is intended to be a contribution to
the history of rates of postage, and an attempt to ascertain the
principles, economic or otherwise, on which they are and have been
based.
The Postmaster-General accorded me permission to consult the official
records at the General Post Office, London, and through this courtesy I
have been enabled to include a detailed examination of the economic
aspect of the rates in the inland service in this country, and to place
in the Appendix copies of some original documents which have not before
been printed. Without this permission, which I desire here to
acknowledge, it would, indeed, scarcely have been possible to undertake
the inquiry. It must be made clear, however, that the work is of
entirely private character, and cannot be taken as in any way expressing
the views of the British Postal Administration.
In 1912, as the holder of the Mitchell Studentship in Economics at the
University of London, I visited Ottawa and Washington; in 1913 I visited
Paris and the International Bureau at Berne; and in 1914, Berlin. I am
much indebted to the various postal administrations visited, to whom, by
the courtesy of the Postmaster-General, I carried official letters of
introduction in addition to my letters from the University, for
facilities to consult official papers relating to the subject of
investigation, and for assistance from members of the staff with whom I
was brought into contact.
The work was all but completed at the outbreak of war, but publication
has been unavoidably delayed. The overpowering necessities created by
the war have caused Governments again to look to | 1,145.643226 |
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Transcriber Notes
Obvious spelling errors corrected, punctuation made consistent.
An advertisement in the text uses a Unicode character "White Right
Pointing Index" (U+261E) for a right pointing hand. If the font in
use on the reader's device does not support it, this character, ☞,
may not display correctly.
Italic text is represented by underscores surrounding the _italic
text_.
Bold text is represented by equals signs surrounding the =bold text=.
Small capitals have been converted to ALL CAPS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
No. 2.
=Just Published.= The “Popular Edition” of =Baker’s Reading Club= and
=Hand Speaker=. Nos. 1, 2, and 3. 50 selections in each. Price 15 cents
each.
THE
GLOBE
DRAMA.
ALL THE WORLD’S
A STAGE
UNDER A VEIL.
By Sir Randall Roberts, Bart., and George M. Baker.
BOSTON:
GEORGE M. BAKER & CO.,
41-45 Franklin Street.
Copyright, 1876, by GEORGE M. BAKER.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spencer’s Universal Stage.
_A Collection of COMEDIES, DRAMAS, and FARCES, adapted to either Public
or Private Performance. Containing a full description of all the
necessary Stage Business._
PRICE, 15 CENTS EACH. ☞ No Plays Exchanged.
1. LOST IN LONDON. A Drama in 3 Acts. 6 male, 4 female characters.
2. NICHOLAS FLAM. A Comedy in 2 Acts. By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male, 3
female char.
3. THE WELSH GIRL. A Comedy in 1 Act. By Mrs. Planche. 3 male, 2
female char.
4. JOHN WOPPS. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 male, 2 female
char.
5. THE TURKISH BATH. A Farce in 1 Act. By Montague Williams and F. C.
Burnand. 6 male, 1 female char.
6. THE TWO PUDDIFOOTS. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3
female char.
7. OLD HONESTY. A Comic Drama in 2 Acts. By J. M. Morton. 5 male, 2
female char.
8. TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male
char.
9. SMASHINGTON GOIT. A Farce in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 3
female char.
10. TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE. A Farce in 1 Act. By Lenox Horne. 4
male, 1 female char.
11. JOHN DOBBS. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 5 male, 2 female
char.
12. THE DAUGHTER of the REGIMENT. A Drama in 2 Acts. By Edward
Fitzball, 6 male, 2 female char.
13. AUNT CHARLOTTE’S MAID. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3
female char.
14. BROTHER BILL AND ME. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 male, 3
female char.
15. DONE ON BOTH SIDES. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2
female char.
16. DUNDUCKETTY’S PICNIC. A Farce in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 6 male,
3 female char.
17. I’VE WRITTEN TO BROWNE. A Farce in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 | 1,145.740575 |
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[Illustration: Birds in Winter]
The
“LOOK ABOUT YOU”
Nature Study Books
BY
THOMAS W. | 1,175.454241 |
2023-11-16 18:36:39.4360910 | 901 | 7 |
Produced by Gregory Walker, for the Digital Daguerreian Archive Project.
[Illustration: Title page]
This etext was created by Gregory Walker, Austin, Texas, for the
Digital Daguerreian Archive Project.
Internet: [email protected] CompuServe: 73577,677
Page numbers explicitly referred to in the text are marked at their
beginning by "[page ##]" on a separate line. The location of the
illustrations in the text are marked by "[amdg_##.gif]" on a separate
line. I hope this etext inspires a wider interest in the origins of
photography and in the modern practice of the Daguerreian Art.
[Updater's note: In this version, the above page numbering convention
has been replaced by "{##}" sequences placed in line with the
surrounding text.]
AMERICAN HAND BOOK
OF THE
DAGUERREOTYPE
GIVING
THE MOST APPROVED AND CONVENIENT
METHODS FOR PREPARING THE CHEMICALS, AND
THE COMBINATIONS USED IN THE ART.
CONTAINING THE
DAGUERREOTYPE, ELECTROTYPE,
AND VARIOUS OTHER PROCESSES EMPLOYED IN TAKING
HELIOGRAPHIC IMPRESSIONS.
BY
S. D. HUMPHREY
FIFTH EDITION
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY S. D. HUMPHREY
37 LISPENARD STREET
1858
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by S. D.
HUMPHREY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern
District of New York.
To J. GURNEY, WHOSE PROFESSIONAL SKILL, SCIENTIFIC ACCURACY, AND
ENERGETIC PERSEVERANCE, HAVE WON FOR HIM UNIVERSAL ESTEEM, THIS WORK IS
MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.
PREFACE.
There is not an Amateur or practical Daguerreotypist, who has not felt
the want of a manual--Hand Book, giving concise and reliable
information for the processes, and preparations of the Agents employed
in his practice.
Since portraits by the Daguerreotype are at this time believed to be
more durable than any other style of "Sun-drawing," the author has hit
upon the present as being an appropriate time for the introduction of
the Fifth Edition of this work. The earlier edition having a long
since been wholly; exhausted, the one now before you is presented.
The endeavor has been to point out the readiest and most approved
Methods of Operation, and condense in its pages; as much practical
information as its limits will admit. An extended Preface is
unnecessary, since the aim and scope of this work are sufficiently
indicated by the title.
S. D. HUMPHREY NEW YORK, 1858.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
Polishing the Daguerreotype Plate--Buffing the Plate--Coating the
Plate--Exposure of the Plate in the Camera--Position Developing the
Daguerreotype--Exposure to Mercury--Removing the Coating--Gilding or
fixing the Image--Coloring Daguerreotype,..... 18
CHAPTER II.
Coloring Back Grounds--Transparent ditto--Gilding Dissolvent--Solution
for removing Specks--Solarized Impression--To Purify Water--Cleaning
Mercury--Adhesive Paper--Black Stain for Apparatus--Sealing Wax for
Bottles--Rouge--Rotten Stone--Potassa Solution--Hyposulphite
Solution--Substitute for do.--Gilding Solution--Solution for increasing
the Brilliancy of the Daguerreotype--Bleaching Solution;--Cold
Gilding--Neutralizing Agents--Buff Dryer--Keeping Buffs in
order--Cleaning Buckskins--Reflector for taking Views,.... 52
CHAPTER III.
Bromine and its Compounds--Iodine and its Compounds--Chlorine and its
Compounds--Cyanide of Potassium--Hyposul | 1,175.456131 |
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THE LITTLE CLOWN
BY THOMAS COBB
AUTHOR OF 'THE BOUNTIFUL LADY,' 'COOPER'S FIRST TERM,' ETC.
LONDON: GRANT RICHARDS
1901
_CONTENTS_
1. _How it began_
2. _Jimmy goes to London_
3. _At Aunt Selina's_
4. _Aunt Selina at Home_
5. _At the Railway Station_
6. _The Journey_
7. _Jimmy is taken into Custody_
8. _Jimmy runs away_
9. _The Circus_
10. _On the Road_
11. _Jimmy runs away again_
12. _Jimmy sleeps in a Windmill_
13. _The Last_
The Little Clown
CHAPTER I
HOW IT BEGAN
Jimmy was nearly eight years of age when these strange things happened
to him. His full name was James Orchardson Sinclair Wilmot, and he had
been at Miss Lawson's small school at Ramsgate since he was six.
There were only five boys besides himself, and Miss Roberts was the only
governess besides Miss Lawson. The half-term had just passed, and they
did not expect to go home for the Christmas holidays for another four or
five weeks, until one day Miss Lawson became very ill, and her sister,
Miss Rosina, was sent for.
It was on Friday that Miss Rosina told the boys that she had written to
their parents and that they would all be sent home on Tuesday, and no
doubt Jimmy might have felt as glad as the rest if he had had a home to
be sent to.
But the fact was that he had never seen his father or mother--or at
least he had no recollection of them. And he had never seen his sister
Winnie, who was born in the West Indies. One of the boys had told Jimmy
she must be a little black girl, and Jimmy did not quite know whether to
believe him or not.
When he was two years of age, his father and mother left England, and
although that was nearly six years ago, they had not been back since.
Jimmy had lived with his Aunt Ellen at Chesterham until he came to
school, but afterwards his holidays were spent with another uncle and
aunt in London.
His mother wrote to him every month, nice long letters, which Jimmy
always answered, although he did not always know quite what to say to
her. But last month there had come no letter, and the month before that
Mrs. Wilmot had said something about seeing Jimmy soon.
When he heard the other boys talk about their fathers and mothers and
sisters it seemed strange that he did not know what his own were like.
For you cannot always tell what a person is like from her photograph;
and although his mother looked young and pretty in hers, Jimmy did not
know whether she was tall or short or dark or fair, but sometimes,
especially after the gas was turned out at night, he felt that he should
very much like to know.
On Monday evening, whilst Jimmy was sitting at the desk in the
school-room sticking some postage-stamps in his Album, he was told to go
to the drawing-room, where he found Miss Rosina sitting beside a large
fire.
'Is your name Wilmot?' she asked, for she had not learnt all the boys'
names yet.
'James Orchardson Sinclair Wilmot,' he answered.
'A long name for such a small boy,' said Miss Rosina. 'It is very
strange,' she continued, 'that all the boys' parents have answered my
letters but yours.'
'Mine couldn't answer,' said Jimmy.
'Why not?' asked Miss Rosina.
'Because they live such a long way off.'
'I remember,' said Miss Rosina; 'it was to your uncle that I wrote. I
asked him to send someone to meet you at Victoria Station at one o'clock
to-morrow. But he has not answered my letter, and it is very
inconvenient.'
'Is it?' asked Jimmy solemnly, with his eyes fixed on her face.
'Why, of course it is,' said Miss Rosina. 'Suppose I don't have a letter
before you start to-morrow morning! I shall not know whether any one is
coming to meet you or not. And what would Miss Roberts do with you in
that case?'
'I don't know,' answered Jimmy, beginning to look rather anxious.
'I'm sure I don't know either,' said Miss Rosina. 'But,' she added, 'I
trust I may hear from your uncle before you start to-morrow morning.'
'I hope you will,' cried Jimmy; and he went back to the school-room
wondering what would happen to him if his Uncle Henry did not write.
Whilst the other boys were saying what wonderful things they intended to
do during the holidays, he wished that his father and mother were in
England the same as theirs.
He could not go to sleep very early that night for thinking of
to-morrow, and when the bell rang at seven o'clock the next morning he
dressed quickly and came downstairs first to look for Miss Rosina.
'Please, have you had a letter from Uncle Henry yet?' he asked.
'No, I am sorry to say I have not,' was the answer. 'I cannot understand
it at all. I am sure I don't know what is to be done with you.'
'Couldn't I stay here?' cried Jimmy.
'Certainly not,' said Miss Rosina.
'Why not?' asked Jimmy, who always liked to have a reason for
everything.
'Because Miss Lawson is not going to keep a school any more. But,'
exclaimed Miss Rosina, 'go to your breakfast, and I will speak to you
again afterwards.'
CHAPTER II
JIMMY GOES TO LONDON
As he sat at breakfast Jimmy saw a large railway van stop at the door,
with a porter sitting on the board behind. The driver climbed down from
his high seat in front, and the two men began to carry out the boxes.
Jimmy saw his clothes-box carried out, then his play-box, so that he
knew that he was to go to London with the rest, although Miss Rosina had
not heard from his uncle.
'Jimmy,' said Miss Roberts after breakfast, 'Miss Rosina wants to see
you in the drawing-room. You must go at once.'
So he went to the drawing-room, tapped at the door, and was told to
enter.
'It is very annoying that your uncle has not answered my letter,' said
Miss Rosina, looking as angry as if Jimmy were to blame for it.
'He couldn't answer if he didn't get it,' cried Jimmy.
'Of course not,' said Miss Rosina, 'but I sincerely hope he did get it.'
'So do I,' answered Jimmy.
'Perhaps he will send to meet you although he has not written to say
so,' said Miss Rosina.
'Perhaps he will,' replied Jimmy thoughtfully.
'But,' Miss Rosina continued, 'if he doesn't send to meet you, Miss
Roberts must take you to his house in Brook Street in a cab.'
'Only suppose he isn't there!' exclaimed Jimmy.
'At all events the servants will be there.'
'Only suppose they're not!'
'Surely,' said Miss Rosina, 'they would not leave the house without any
one in it!'
'If Uncle Henry and Aunt Mary have gone to France they might.'
'Do they often go to France?' asked Miss Rosina.
'They go sometimes,' said Jimmy, 'because Aunt Mary writes to me, and
I've got the stamps in my Album. And then they leave the house empty and
shut the shutters and put newspapers in all the windows, you know.'
Whilst Jimmy stood on the hearth-rug, Miss Rosina sat in an arm-chair
staring seriously at the fire.
'Have you any other relations in London?' she asked, a few moments
later.
'No,' said Jimmy.
'Think, now,' she continued. 'Are you sure there is nobody?'
'At least,' cried Jimmy, 'there's only Aunt Selina.'
'Where does your Aunt Selina live?' asked Miss Rosina, looking a great
deal more pleased than Jimmy felt. He put his small hands together
behind his back, and took a step closer.
'Please,' he said, 'I--I don't want to go to Aunt Selina's.'
'Tell me where she lives,' answered Miss Rosina.
'I think it's somewhere called Gloucester Place,' said Jimmy;' but,
please, I'd rather not go.'
'You silly child! You must go somewhere!'
'Yes, I know,' said Jimmy, 'but I'd rather not go to Aunt Selina's.'
'What is her number in Gloucester Place?' asked Miss Rosina.
'I don't know the number,' cried Jimmy much more cheerfully, because he
thought that as he did not know the number, Miss Rosina could not very
well send him to the house.
'What is your aunt's name? Is it Wilmot?' Miss Rosina asked.
'No, it isn't Wilmot,' said Jimmy.
'Do you know what it is?' she demanded, and Jimmy began to wish he
didn't know; but Aunt Selina always wrote on his birthday, although it
wasn't much use as she never sent him a present.
'Her name's Morton,' he answered.
'Mrs. Morton or Miss Morton?'
'Miss Morton, because she's never been married,' said Jimmy.
'Very well then,' was the answer, 'if nobody comes to meet you at
Victoria Station, Miss Roberts will take you in a cab to Brook Street,
and if your Uncle Henry is not there----'
'I hope he will be!' cried Jimmy.
'So do I,' Miss Rosina continued, 'because Miss Roberts will not have
much time to spare. She will take you to Brook Street; but if the house
is empty, then she will go on to Miss Morton's in Gloucester Place.'
'But how can she if she doesn't know the number?' said Jimmy.
'Miss Roberts will easily be able to find your aunt's house,' was the
answer.
'Oh!' cried Jimmy in a disappointed tone, and then he was sent back to
the other boys.
When it was time to start to the railway station Miss Rosina went on
first in a fly to take the tickets, and they found her waiting for them
on the platform. They all got into a carriage, and Jimmy sat next to
Miss Roberts, who asked him soon after the train started, why he looked
so miserable.
'I do hope that Uncle Henry will send some one to meet me,' he answered.
'I hope so too,' said Miss Roberts, who was much younger than Miss
Rosina, 'because I have to travel to the north of England, and it is a
very long journey. I shall only just have time to drive to the other
station to catch my train.'
'But suppose you don't catch it?' asked Jimmy.
'That would be extremely inconvenient,' she explained, 'because I should
either have to travel all night or else to sleep at an hotel in London.
But I hope your uncle will come to meet you.'
Long before the train reached London, Jimmy began to look anxiously out
at the window. Presently it stopped on a bridge over the Thames, and a
man came to collect the tickets, and soon after the train moved on again
Jimmy saw that he was at Victoria. The door was opened, and all the
other boys jumped out, and whilst they were shaking hands with their
fathers and mothers Jimmy stood alone on the platform. He looked
wistfully at every face in the small crowd, but he did not know one of
them, and it was plain that nobody had been sent to meet him.
He followed Miss Roberts towards the luggage van and saw his own boxes
taken out with the rest, and then one by one the boys got into cabs and
were driven away, and Jimmy began to feel more miserable than ever.
His boxes stood beside Miss Roberts's, and she looked up and down the
platform almost as anxiously as the boy, for she was in a great hurry to
go.
'Well, Jimmy,' she said, 'nobody seems to have come for you.'
'No,' answered Jimmy.
'It is really very annoying!' cried Miss Roberts, looking at her watch.
'Perhaps Uncle Henry has made a mistake in the time,' said Jimmy.
'I think the best thing we can do is to take a cab to Brook Street,' was
the answer.
'Mightn't we wait just a little longer?' he asked.
'No,' said Miss Roberts, 'we have lost quite enough time already. Hi!
Cab!' she exclaimed, and a four-wheeled cab was driven up beside the
boxes. Then a porter lifted these, one by one, and put them on top of
the cab.
'Get in,' said Miss Roberts, and with a last glance along the platform,
Jimmy entered the cab and sat down. Then Miss Roberts stepped in also,
the old cab-horse started, and Jimmy was driven out of the gloomy
railway station.
'I hope Uncle Henry will be at home,' he said presently.
'So do I,' answered Miss Roberts. 'I have not a minute to spare.'
'Perhaps you won't have time to take me to Aunt Selina's!' exclaimed
Jimmy.
'What do you suppose I am to do with you then?' she asked.
'I don't know,' he said; 'only I don't want to go there!'
'I am sure I don't want to have to take you there,' was the answer, as
the cab passed Hyde Park.
Jimmy had been the same way every holiday since he had gone to Miss
Lawson's school, so that he knew he was drawing near to Brook Street. As
the cab turned the corner, he put his head out at the window and looked
anxiously for his uncle's house.
'Oh!' he cried, drawing it in again.
'What is the matter?' asked Miss Roberts.
'I believe the shutters are up,' said Jimmy.
CHAPTER III
AT AUNT SELINA'S
Jimmy was quite right. Miss Roberts leaned forward to put her head out
at the window on his side of the cab, and she saw that every shutter was
shut, and that there was a sheet of newspaper in each window.
'What a nuisance!' she exclaimed, sitting down again as the horse
stopped.
The cabman got down to open the door, and Jimmy jumped out, on to the
pavement.
'I daresay they've gone to France,' he said, as she followed him.
'Still there may be some one left in the house,' answered Miss Roberts.
'I don't suppose there is,' said Jimmy, looking as if he were going to
cry.
'At all events I will ring the bell,' she answered, and Miss Roberts
pulled the bell. Jimmy heard it ring quite distinctly, but nobody came
to open the door.
'Do ring again,' he said, and once more Miss Roberts pulled the bell.
Then a policeman came along the street, and she went to meet him.
'Do you know whether this house is empty?' she asked.
'Been empty the last fortnight,' said the policeman.
'Thank you,' said Miss Roberts. And then she turned to Jimmy: 'Go back
into the cab,' she continued, and very unwillingly he took his seat
again. 'Gloucester Place, cabman,' she said, with her hand on the door.
'What number?' asked the cabman.
'We--we don't know the number,' cried Jimmy, putting his head out.
'Stop at a shop on the way,' said Miss Roberts as she entered the cab
and sat down; 'if I waste any more time I shall lose my train.'
'But suppose Aunt Selina isn't at home either?' exclaimed Jimmy, as the
horse started once more.
'In that case I don't know what is to become of you,' said Miss Roberts.
'Because she may have gone to France with Uncle Henry!' Jimmy suggested.
'We will not imagine anything of the kind, if you please!'
'No,' said Jimmy, 'but suppose she has gone to France, you know.'
As he spoke, the cab stopped before a large grocer's shop, and without
losing a moment Miss Roberts stepped out of the cab, followed by Jimmy | 1,175.558351 |
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Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "_Down sank the gallant ship, driving her crew to the
spar-deck._" Page 96.]
TERRY'S TRIALS
AND
TRIUMPHS
BY
J. MACDONALD OXLEY
Author of | 1,175.697303 |
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THE LOST LADY OF LONE
By MRS. E.D.E.N. SOUTHWORTH
Author of "Nearest and Dearest," "The Hidden Hand," "Unknown,"
"Only a Girl's Heart," "For Woman's Love," etc.
1876
PUBLISHERS' NOTICE.
"THE LOST LADY OF LONE" is different from any of Mrs. Southworth's other
novels. The plot, which is unusually provocative of conjecture and
interest, is founded on thrilling and tragic events which occurred in the
domestic history of one of the most distinguished families in the
Highlands of Scotland. The materials which these interesting and tragic
annals place at the disposal of Mrs. Southworth give full scope to her
unrivalled skill in depicting character and developing a plot, and she
has made the most of her opportunity and her subject.
CONTENTS.
I. The bride of Lone
II. An ideal love
III. The ruined heir
IV. Salome's choice
V. Arondelle's consolation
VI. A horrible mystery on the wedding-day
VII. The morning's discovery
VIII. A horrible discovery
IX. After the discovery
X. The letter and its effect
XI. The vailed passenger
XII. The house on Westminster Road
XIII. A surprise for Mrs. Scott
XIV. The second bridal morn
XV. The cloud falls
XVI. Vanished
XVII. The lost Lady of Lone
XVIII. The flight of the duchess
XIX. Salome's refuge
XX. Salome's protectress
XXI. The bridegroom
XXII. At Lone
XXIII. A startling charge
XXIV. The vindication
XXV. Who was found?
XXVI. Off the track
XXVII. In the convent
XXVIII. The soul's struggle
XXIX. The stranger in the chapel
XXX. The haunter
XXXI. The abbess' story
XXXII. The duke's double
XXXIII. After the earthquake
XXXIV. Risen from the grave
XXXV. Face to face
XXXVI. A gathering storm
XXXVII. A sentence of banishment
XXXVIII. The storm bursts
XXXIX. The rivals
XL. After the storm
XLI. Father and son
XLII. Her son
XL | 1,175.756214 |
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MOTHER GOOSE FOR GROWN FOLKS
BY MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY
Illustrated By Augustus Hoppin
Boston
Houghton, Mifflin And Company
1883
[Illustration: 0001]
[Illustration: 0006]
[Illustration: 0007]
[Illustration: 0009]
INTRODUCTORY.
|Somewhere in that uncertain "long ago,"
Whose dim and vague chronology is all
That elfin tales or nursery fables know,
Rose a rare spirit,--keen, and quick, and quaint,--
Whom by the title, whether fact or feint,
Mythic or real, Mother Goose we call.
Of Momus and Minerva sprang the birth
That gave the laughing oracle to earth:
A brimming bowl she bears, that, frothing
high
With sparkling nonsense, seemeth non-
sense all;
Till, the bright, floating syllabub blown by,
Lo, in its ruby splendor doth upshine
The crimson radiance of Olympian wine
By Pallas poured, in Jove's own banquet-
hall.
The world was but a baby when she came;
So to her songs it listened, and her name
Grew to a word of power, her voice a spell
With charm to soothe its infant wearying
well.
But, in a later and maturer age,
Developed to a dignity more sage,
Having its Shakspeares and its Words-
worths now,
Its Southeys and its Tennysons, to wear
A halo on the high and lordly brow,
Or poet-laurels in the waving hair;
Its Lowells, Whittiers, Longfellows, to sing
Ballads of beauty, like the notes of spring,
The wise and prudent ones to nursery use
Leave the dear lyrics of old Mother Goose.
Wisdom of babes,--the nursery Shak-
speare stilly--
Cackles she ever with the same good-will:
Uttering deep counsels in a foolish guise,
That come as warnings, even to the wise;
As when, of old, the martial city slept,
Unconscious of the wily foe that crept
Under the midnight, till the alarm was heard
Out from the mouth of Rome's plebeian
bird.
Full many a rare and subtile thing hath
she,
Undreamed of in the world's philosophy:
Toss-balls for children hath she humbly
rolled,
That shining jewels secretly enfold;
Sibylline leaves she casteth on the air,
Twisted in fool's-caps, blown unheeded by,
That, in their lines grotesque, albeit, bear
Words of grave truth, and signal prophecy;
And lurking satire, whose sharp lashes hit
A world of follies with their homely writ;
With here and there a roughly uttered hint,
That makes you wonder at the beauty
in't;
As if, along the wayside's dusty edge,
A hot-house flower had blossomed in a
hedge.
So, like brave Layard in old Nineveh,
Among the memories of ancient song,
As curious relics, I would fain bestir;
And gather, if it might be, into strong
And shapely show | 1,176.073308 |
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Produced by Julia Neufeld and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration]
The Copeland METHOD
[Illustration]
INDEX.
PAGE
Equipment 3
Tools Required and their Use 3
Formula for Cleaning Fluid 6
Formula, how to make 7
Formula for Moth Preventative 7
How to Use Cleaning Fluids 7
How to Prepare Garments to be Cleaned 7
How to Clean Garments 8
To Remove Stains, etc. 13
Repairing 14
Darning a Three-Cornered Tear 20
Alterations 21
Pressing 28
How to Clean Cutaway, Prince Albert, Military
and other Uniforms 33
How to Clean and Press Ladies' Jackets, etc. 33
Selection of Materials, etc. 37
Care of Clothes 38
Folding of Clothes 42
Testing Goods 43
Price List for Cleaning and Pressing 44
How to Dress and What to Wear 45
Business Etiquette 55
The
Copeland METHOD
A Complete Manual for
Cleaning, Repairing, Altering
and Pressing all kinds
of Garments for Men and
Women, at home or for
business.
Copyrighted 1908.
BY
VANNESS COPELAND,
BUFFALO, N. Y.
INTRODUCTORY.
High birth and good breeding are the privileges of the few; but the
habits of a gentleman may be acquired by any man. Neatness is not an art
requiring the study of a life time; on the contrary it's principles are
simple, and their practical application involves only ordinary care.
To gain the good opinion of those who surround us is the first interest
and the second duty of men in every profession of life. First
impressions are apt to be permanent; it is therefore of importance that
they should be favorable. Frequently the dress of an individual is that
circumstance from which you first form your opinion. It is even more
prominent than manner. It is indeed one of the first things noticed in a
casual encounter or during the first interview. Chesterfield has said
that "He could not help conceiving some idea of the people's sense and
character from the appearance of their dress which they appeared when
first introduced to him."
In the preparation of this book, it has been the aim of the maker to
give in a concise form, all that is properly embraced in a comprehensive
work on not only keeping our wardrobes in such a state as to cause us to
appear to the best advantage, but also to give a complete instruction in
the manipulation of garments and tools used in the process of properly
cleaning, pressing and repairing all kinds of garments for men and
women.
A few hints may be helpful to the beginner as well as to those in the
business.
Observe a well dressed man or woman on the street or elsewhere, note the
make up and fitting points of their garments, this will help the student
to know good work, and try to do as well when doing the work himself.
When learning the method of cleaning, repairing and pressing all kinds
of garments for men and women, it is a good idea, if possible, to have a
garment of the same sort as one is studying close at hand, following
closely the instructions over all parts of the garment; thereby
understanding the teachings better and become more familiar with the
work.
Should a garment need repairing of any kind or a button sewed on, do it
and charge accordingly.
Never give a customer clothes that are damp from pressing, allow them to
dry before wearing or delivering.
LESSON I.
EQUIPMENT.
Introduction: A few hints to the beginner as well as to those now in the
business. The tools required and the best method of using same, for work
at home or for business.
TOOLS REQUIRED AND THEIR USE:
The tools required for cleaning, repairing and | 1,176.160874 |
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Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: "YOU ARE SO GENEROUS TO ME" (page 24)]
AVERY
_By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps_
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1902
COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY HARPER & BROS.
COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS WARD
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published October, 1902_
_Avery_ originally appeared as a serial in _Harper's Magazine_ under
the title of _His Wife_.
AVERY
PART I
"Oh, Pink! Mother _can't_ lift you.... I would if I could.... Yes, I
know I used to--
"Molly, take the baby. Couldn't you amuse him, somehow? Perhaps, if
you tried hard, you could keep him still. When he screams so, it seems
to hit me--here. It makes it harder to breathe. He cried'most all
night. And if you could contrive to keep Pink, too--
"What is it, Kate? You'll have to manage without me this morning.
Pick up anything for luncheon--I don't care. I couldn't eat. You can
warm over that mutton for yourselves. We must keep the bills down.
They were too large last month. Order a grouse for Mr. Avery. He says
he will dine at home to-night--
"There's the telephone! Somebody answer it. I can't get down,
myself.... Is it Mr. Avery?... Wants me?... I don't see how I
can.... Yes. Hold the wire. I 'll try--
"Did you speak to me, Molly?... No, I'm not feeling any worse. It's
only getting up the stairs, and... something that tired me a little.
I don't want Dr. Thorne. I can't call the doctor so often. I'm no
worse than... I sometimes... am. It's only that I cannot breathe....
Molly! _Molly_! Quick, Molly! The window! Air!"
As Molly dashed the window up, Mrs. Avery's head fell back upon the
pillows of the lounge. They were blue pillows, and her blanching cheek
took a little reflection from the color. But she was not ghastly; she
never was. At the lowest limit of her strength she seemed to challenge
death with an indomitable vitality.
There was a certain surprise in the discovery that so blond a being
could have so much of it. She was very fair--blue of eye, yellow of
hair, pearly of skin; but all her coloring was warm and rich; when she
was well, it was an occupation to admire her ear, her cheek, her
throat; and when she was ill her eye conquered. Every delicate trait
and feature of her defied her fate, except her mouth; this had begun to
take on a pitiful expression. The doctor's blazing eye flashed on it
when he was summoned hastily. It had become a symptom to him, and was
usually the first one of which he took note.
Dr. Esmerald Thorne had the preoccupations of his eminence, and his
patients waited their turns with that undiscouraged endurance which is
the jest and the despair of less-distinguished physicians. Women took
their crochet work to his office, and men bided their time with gnawed
mustache and an unnatural interest in the back-number magazines upon
his table. Indifferent ailments received his belated attention, and to
certain patients he came when he got ready. Mrs. Avery's was not one
of these cases.
When Molly's tumultuous telephone call reached him that dav, it found
him at the hospital, sewing up an accident. He drew the thread through
the stitch, handed the needle to the house surgeon, who was standing
by, and ran downstairs. The hospital was two miles from Marshall
Avery's house. Dr. Thorne's horse took the distance on a gallop, and
Dr. Thorne took Avery's stairs two at a time.
He came into her room, however, with the theatrical calm and the
preposterous smile which men of his profession and his kind assume in
the presence of danger that unconsciousness has not blotted from the
patient's intelligence. Through the wide window the late October air
bit in. She was lying full in the surly breeze on the lounge pillow,
as Molly had left her. Her blue morning gown was clutched and torn
open at the throat. No one had thought to cover her. Her hands were
as purple as her lips. She was not gasping now: she had no longer the
strength to fight for her breath.
Dr. Thorne's professional smile went out like a Christmas candle in a
hurricane. He opened his mouth and began to swear.
The corners of her lips twitched when she heard him--for she was
altogether conscious, which was rather the worst of it, as she
sometimes said; and, in point of fact, she laughed outright, if one
could call it laughing.
She tried to say, "I should know that was you if I were in my grave,"
but found the words too many for her, and so said nothing at all, nor
even seemed to listen while he rated Molly, and condemned Kate, and
commanded both, and poured stimulants angrily and swiftly. The very
blankets and hot-water bags seemed to obey him, like sentient
things--as people did; and the tablet in his fingers quivered as if it
were afraid of him.
As soon as she began to breathe naturally again, she said, "I've made
you a great deal of trouble! How is Helen's cold, doctor?"
"I shall tell my wife that," replied the doctor, in a tone that was a
mongrel between anger and admiration. This puzzled her, and her fine
eyes gently questioned him of his irritation. For she and the doctor's
wife were schoolmates and old friends. She had been quite troubled
about Helen's cold.
"Oh, never mind," said Dr. Thorne; "only it isn't natural, that's
all--when patients come out of attacks like yours. Their minds are not
concentrated on other people's colds. Helen is quite well, thank you.
Now, Mrs. Avery, I want to ask you"--
"Don't," interrupted Jean Avery.
"But I find it necessary," growled Dr. Thorne.
She shook her head, and turned her face, which shrank against the blue
pillow. Pink and the baby began to quarrel in the nursery, and then
both cried belligerently.
"The baby kept me awake," faintly suggested Mrs. Avery.
"It is an excellent explanation,--but you've just thought of it,"
observed Dr. Thorne. He spoke in a much louder tone than was
necessary; his voice rose with the kind of instinctive, elemental rage
under which he fled to covert with a sympathy that he found
troublesome. "What I wish to know--what I insist on knowing--is, what
caused this attack? It is something which happened since breakfast. I
demand the nature of it--physical? mental? emotional?"
"You may call it electric," answered Jean Avery, with her own lovable
smile--half mischief, half pathos.
"I see. The telephone." Dr. | 1,176.175516 |
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Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://books.google.com/books?id=lOUBAAAAQAAJ
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
AT ALL LIBRARIES.
BY THE SAME TRANSLATOR.
SACRED VOWS,
By E. WERNER,
_Author of_ "_Under a Charm_," "_Success and How He Won it_," _&c_.
3 VOLS. 31s. 6d.
* * * * *
"The loves of Bruno and Lucie are simply told with that accompaniment
of mysterious sympathy in the inanimate surroundings of their
struggles, which is the highest application of true literary insight
into nature."--_Athenaeum_.
"The incidents are striking * * * * * The whole scene rises before the
reader with as much clearness as if it were represented before him on
the stage."--_Saturday Review_.
"The ability of Werner's Novels is implied in the simultaneous
publication of two translations of 'Sacred Vows.' His scenes are more
than paintings, they are sculptures, and stand out in _alto relievo_,
distinctly conceived and vigorously executed."--_The British
Quarterly_.
* * * * *
REMINGTON & Co., 5, Arundel Street, Strand, W.C.
WITHERED LEAVES.
A Novel,
BY
Rudolf von Gottschall.
FROM THE GERMAN,
By BERTHA NESS.
Translator of Werner's "Riven Bonds" and "Sacred Vows."
THREE VOLUMES.
* * * * *
AUTHORISED TRANSLATION.
* * * * *
VOL. III.
* * * * *
London:
REMINGTON AND CO.,
5, Arundel Street, Stand, W.C.
* * *
1879.
[_All Rights Reserved_.]
CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.
CHAP.
I.--Primavera.
II.--In the Lion's Den.
III.--The Mistress of the Boarding School.
IV.--In the Forest of Juditenkirchen.
V.--Internal Struggles.
VI.--A Sleighing Party.
VII.--In the Land of the Lotus-Flowers.
VIII.--In the Church of San Giulio.
IX.--The Bridal Jewels.
X.--The Wedding Day.
XI.--A Legacy.
XII.--Confessions.
XIII.--To the East!
WITHERED LEAVES.
CHAPTER I.
PRIMAVERA.
_Primavera_--in the midst of winter, which sketched its frozen pictures
upon the window!
_Primavera_--and yet a midsummer of love, which had long since gathered
the blossoms of spring for its transient enjoyment!
And Blanden wooed Giulia with a passion which, possessing no history of
the past, asserting no prior right, only living in his recollections as
if it were the fairy-like charm of a dream, will conquer her love for
the bright day of the present; yes, for the endurance of a life time.
He did not strive to obtain the renewal of former affection; she had
from the very first resisted everything that could encourage such
wooing; he was resolved to win her hand, and to defy those prejudices
which could pronounce his union with a singer to be unsuitable.
But ardent as was his passion, much as her beauty, intellect, talent
and her great knowledge of the world and of life fascinated him, he was
yet by no means disposed blindly to follow his heart's inclination; he
could even not suppress a soft warning voice of suspicion, which he was
obliged to term ungrateful, because it was connected with their own
former meeting--could this admired actress always have withstood the
temptations that beset her upon her path of triumph?
Did not smiling Euphrosyne cast roses into her lap, as the goddess
stood beside victory upon her car of triumph, decking her with laurels?
How many phenomena of theatrical fame do but shine through a dim vapour
which the repute of their evil habits of life spreads around them, and
it was not Blanden's intention to guide one of these beauties, weary of
adventures, into a haven of refuge.
In the town even her enemies did not attack her character; she
possessed admirers, but she favoured none; all that Blanden learned
there, spoke in favour of the singer, but this did not suffice him.
During his travels he had formed many connections in the various
capitals of Europe, in Paris and London, in Rome and Florence;
everywhere he had friends and acquaintances who were familiar with art
and theatrical life. Immediately after the performance of "Norma," when
the thought first was kindled within him of calling this beautiful
woman his own, he had written to all these people to obtain information
as to the actress' life and character. Day by day the replies now came
in; not one single letter contained an accusation, a shred of
suspicion; the testimony that was given to the singer's private life
was most brilliant. No scandal had contributed to the augmentation of
her fame; she owed it entirely to her talent, of which all spoke with
admiration.
Blanden dropped all suspicions, and the project of making Giulia his
wife took still deeper root. He had reason to expect that she would be
ready to resign the stage, as she had frequently lamented the
disappointments to which she was daily more and more exposed in her
artistic career; nor did she conceal a feeling, which caused her
uneasiness, the conviction that the epoch of her glory was at an end,
and that the decadence of her voice was making its announcement gently
but perceptibly. Surely therefore was she often so melancholy; who
would not, with a heavy heart, bear the claims of a day of reckoning as
it crumbles from us one object of pride, one advantage after another,
and with such cruel indifference sweeps away all the flowers of our
life.
_Primavera!_ But there is a spring-time of feeling, which time cannot
kill. It was that which bound Giulia to the wintry provincial town,
when she might have been celebrating her triumphs in the capitals of
the south.
This it was that made her await the arrival of her friend with a
palpitating heart, as she had once awaited him in the moonlight by Lago
Maggiore; and if to her other admirers she made no secret of his
visits; if she denied herself to them as soon as he was present, or
received him at a time when she was inaccessible to others; in so doing
she obeyed no decree of prudence which counselled her not to alienate
her other enthusiastic friends by distinguishing the one; it was a
necessity, a happiness for her to have him quite alone; happiness that
might not be desecrated by contact with the world.
Blanden still exercised the same entrancing magic over her as in those
days of unguarded devotion; she had remained true to him since that
time, little as it was his right or her duty thus to continue faithful.
His image alone accompanied her through life; all emotions to which she
must give expression upon the stage were for him. She confessed it to
him, and he uttered no doubt of such assurances. Blanden's person would
account for such passion; it was distinguished and possessed of a
peculiar charm. An enthusiast, a dreamer, as he had been from his youth
upwards, he seemed to be one still, when, with half-closed languid
eyes, he buried himself in the rich stores of his mental life; but then
they would suddenly flash and open, and gleam with passion and manly
power. In all else he was in perfect harmony; his figure symmetrical,
the well-bred smile upon his lips, full of intellectual superiority;
his conversation, in earnest and in jest, combined sweetness and charm.
As Desdemona to Othello's tales, Giulia listened to the descriptions of
the adventures which Blanden had met with in distant lands and oceans,
he raised her imagination far above the painted decorations of
theatrical life; she was susceptible to all the grandeur and beauty of
nature, to all intellectual struggles; only the unrest and bustle of
her artist's calling prevented her giving herself up to those mental
enjoyments for which she longed now more fervently than formerly. To
her it would have appeared unutterable bliss to belong entirely to the
man in company with whom she might revel in such enjoyments; to the man
who offered her a refuge from the tempests of stage life. With what
just pride she would have borne the name with which that noble scion
represented a family so esteemed in the world!
And yet--from out the past one shoal reared itself in her life: a shoal
upon which all her proud dreams of a future should be wrecked.
In sleepless nights she meditated how she could guide her ship round
that reef; her senses became confused in the rapid flight of thought
from one possibility to another, which, clutched convulsively, never
granted a firm hold; sometimes she rose to the daring venture of
defying those rocks and trying if the high storm-lashed billows of her
life would not bear her over. Her experiences upon the stage became
daily more unpleasant, the enthusiasm of her adherents more disputed by
steady opposition.
These were the results of Spiegeler's malicious condemnation.
On the other hand the poet Schoener prepared one slight pleasure for
her; he who belonged to her warmest admirers, and two years ago had
striven eagerly to gain her favour, but who had been rejected. For a
long time he avoided all intercourse with her, but without bearing any
ill-will remained one of her most zealous adorers. Now, when her
enemies roused themselves, he sought her out again, and, like a
troubadour, devoted his lyre to the noble lady. He read a poem to her,
in which he sang of her as the _primavera_ of Baltic winter, and at the
same time attacked her opponents with epigrammatic arrows, and those
mighty blows which he had acquired in the fencing-school of political
poetry.
The poem appeared in the most important papers, and again increased the
diminishing numbers of Giulia's followers. She was heartily grateful to
him for it, because she perceived that his thoughts were noble and free
from personal motives, that he but followed his own convictions.
The more retiringly Schoener behaved, the more obtrusive became
Lieutenant Buschmann; he could not accustom himself to the idea that he
must retire from so long a siege without success. The uniform
friendliness of the singer seemed to him like scorn; from day to day he
hoped for a more passionate return. Constantly renewed disappointment
embittered him. His character was somewhat violent, he tolerated no
barriers, and once when the singer, through her maid, refused him
admittance on a morning call, he forced himself ruthlessly into her
boudoir, and reproached her passionately.
It was the day after his visit to Frau Hecht's kitchen, | 1,176.254425 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.3341950 | 7,436 | 12 |
Produced by Brian Coe, John Campbell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
A superscript is denoted by ^x or ^{xx}. For example, M^cDonald or
Esq^{re}.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.
More detail can be found at the end of the book.
[Illustration:
BY COMMAND OF His late Majesty WILLIAM THE IV^{TH}.
_and under the Patronage of_
Her Majesty the Queen.
HISTORICAL RECORDS,
_OF THE_
British Army
_Comprising the
History of every Regiment
IN HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE._
_By Richard Cannon Esq^{re}._
_Adjutant Generals Office, Horse Guards._
London
_Printed by Authority_:]
GENERAL ORDERS.
_HORSE-GUARDS_,
_1st January, 1836_.
His Majesty has been pleased to command that, with the view of
doing the fullest justice to Regiments, as well as to Individuals
who have distinguished themselves by their Bravery in Action with
the Enemy, an Account of the Services of every Regiment in the
British Army shall be published under the superintendence and
direction of the Adjutant-General; and that this Account shall
contain the following particulars, viz.:--
---- The Period and Circumstances of the Original Formation of
the Regiment; The Stations at which it has been from time to time
employed; The Battles, Sieges, and other Military Operations
in which it has been engaged, particularly specifying any
Achievement it may have performed, and the Colours, Trophies,
&c., it may have captured from the Enemy.
---- The Names of the Officers, and the number of
Non-Commissioned Officers and Privates Killed or Wounded by the
Enemy, specifying the place and Date of the Action.
---- The Names of those Officers who, in consideration of their
Gallant Services and Meritorious Conduct in Engagements with the
Enemy, have been distinguished with Titles, Medals, or other
Marks of His Majesty's gracious favour.
---- The Names of all such Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers,
and Privates, as may have specially signalized themselves in
Action.
And,
---- The Badges and Devices which the Regiment may have been
permitted to bear, and the Causes on account of which such Badges
or Devices, or any other Marks of Distinction, have been granted.
By Command of the Right Honorable
GENERAL LORD HILL,
_Commanding-in-Chief_.
JOHN MACDONALD,
_Adjutant-General_.
PREFACE.
The character and credit of the British Army must chiefly depend
upon the zeal and ardour by which all who enter into its service
are animated, and consequently it is of the highest importance that
any measure calculated to excite the spirit of emulation, by which
alone great and gallant actions are achieved, should be adopted.
Nothing can more fully tend to the accomplishment of this desirable
object than a full display of the noble deeds with which the
Military History of our country abounds. To hold forth these bright
examples to the imitation of the youthful soldier, and thus to
incite him to emulate the meritorious conduct of those who have
preceded him in their honorable career, are among the motives that
have given rise to the present publication.
The operations of the British Troops are, indeed, announced in the
"London Gazette," from whence they are transferred into the public
prints: the achievements of our armies are thus made known at the
time of their occurrence, and receive the tribute of praise and
admiration to which they are entitled. On extraordinary occasions,
the Houses of Parliament have been in the habit of conferring on
the Commanders, and the Officers and Troops acting under their
orders, expressions of approbation and of thanks for their skill
and bravery; and these testimonials, confirmed by the high honour
of their Sovereign's approbation, constitute the reward which the
soldier most highly prizes.
It has not, however, until late years, been the practice (which
appears to have long prevailed in some of the Continental armies)
for British Regiments to keep regular records of their services
and achievements. Hence some difficulty has been experienced in
obtaining, particularly from the old Regiments, an authentic
account of their origin and subsequent services.
This defect will now be remedied, in consequence of His Majesty
having been pleased to command that every Regiment shall, in
future, keep a full and ample record of its services at home and
abroad.
From the materials thus collected, the country will henceforth
derive information as to the difficulties and privations which
chequer the career of those who embrace the military profession. In
Great Britain, where so large a number of persons are devoted to
the active concerns of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce, and
where these pursuits have, for so long a period, being undisturbed
by the _presence of war_, which few other countries have escaped,
comparatively little is known of the vicissitudes of active service
and of the casualties of climate, to which, even during peace, the
British Troops are exposed in every part of the globe, with little
or no interval of repose.
In their tranquil enjoyment of the blessings which the country
derives from the industry and the enterprise of the agriculturist
and the trader, its happy inhabitants may be supposed not often to
reflect on the perilous duties of the soldier and the sailor,--on
their sufferings,--and on the sacrifice of valuable life, by which
so many national benefits are obtained and preserved.
The conduct of the British Troops, their valour, and endurance,
have shone conspicuously under great and trying difficulties; and
their character has been established in Continental warfare by the
irresistible spirit with which they have effected debarkations in
spite of the most formidable opposition, and by the gallantry and
steadiness with which they have maintained their advantages against
superior numbers.
In the official Reports made by the respective Commanders, ample
justice has generally been done to the gallant exertions of the
Corps employed; but the details of their services and of acts of
individual bravery can only be fully given in the Annals of the
various Regiments.
These Records are now preparing for publication, under his
Majesty's special authority, by Mr. RICHARD CANNON, Principal Clerk
of the Adjutant General's Office; and while the perusal of them
cannot fail to be useful and interesting to military men of every
rank, it is considered that they will also afford entertainment and
information to the general reader, particularly to those who may
have served in the Army, or who have relatives in the Service.
There exists in the breasts of most of those who have served, or
are serving, in the Army, an _Esprit de Corps_--an attachment
to everything belonging to their Regiment; to such persons a
narrative of the services of their own Corps cannot fail to prove
interesting. Authentic accounts of the actions of the great, the
valiant, the loyal, have always been of paramount interest with
a brave and civilized people. Great Britain has produced a race
of heroes who, in moments of danger and terror, have stood "firm
as the rocks of their native shore:" and when half the world has
been arrayed against them, they have fought the battles of their
Country with unshaken fortitude. It is presumed that a record of
achievements in war,--victories so complete and surprising, gained
by our countrymen, our brothers, our fellow citizens in arms,--a
record which revives the memory of the brave, and brings their
gallant deeds before us,--will certainly prove acceptable to the
public.
Biographical Memoirs of the Colonels and other distinguished
Officers will be introduced in the Records of their respective
Regiments, and the Honorary Distinctions which have, from time to
time, been conferred upon each Regiment, as testifying the value
and importance of its services, will be faithfully set forth.
As a convenient mode of Publication, the Record of each Regiment
will be printed in a distinct number, so that when the whole shall
be completed, the Parts may be bound up in numerical succession.
INTRODUCTION TO THE INFANTRY.
The natives of Britain have, at all periods, been celebrated for
innate courage and unshaken firmness, and the national superiority
of the British troops over those of other countries has been
evinced in the midst of the most imminent perils. History contains
so many proofs of extraordinary acts of bravery, that no doubts can
be raised upon the facts which are recorded. It must therefore be
admitted, that the distinguishing feature of the British soldier is
INTREPIDITY. This quality was evinced by the inhabitants of England
when their country was invaded by Julius Cæsar with a Roman army,
on which occasion the undaunted Britons rushed into the sea to
attack the Roman soldiers as they descended from their ships; and,
although their discipline and arms were inferior to those of their
adversaries, yet their fierce and dauntless bearing intimidated
the flower of the Roman troops, including Cæsar's favourite tenth
legion. Their arms consisted of spears, short swords, and other
weapons of rude construction. They had chariots, to the axles of
which were fastened sharp pieces of iron resembling scythe-blades,
and infantry in long chariots resembling waggons, who alighted
and fought on foot, and for change of ground, pursuit or retreat,
sprang into the chariot and drove off with the speed of cavalry.
These inventions were, however, unavailing against Cæsar's
legions: in the course of time a military system, with discipline
and subordination, was introduced, and British courage, being
thus regulated, was exerted to the greatest advantage; a full
development of the national character followed, and it shone forth
in all its native brilliancy.
The military force of the Anglo-Saxons consisted principally of
infantry: Thanes, and other men of property, however, fought on
horseback. The infantry were of two classes, heavy and light The
former carried large shields armed with spikes, long broad swords
and spears; and the latter were armed with swords or spears only.
They had also men armed with clubs, others with battle-axes and
javelins.
The feudal troops established by William the Conqueror consisted
(as already stated in the Introduction to the Cavalry) almost
entirely of horse; but when the warlike barons and knights, with
their trains of tenants and vassals, took the field, a proportion
of men appeared on foot, and, although these were of inferior
degree, they proved stout-hearted Britons of stanch fidelity. When
stipendiary troops were employed, infantry always constituted a
considerable portion of the military force; and this _arme_ has
since acquired, in every quarter of the globe, a celebrity never
exceeded by the armies of any nation at any period.
The weapons carried by the infantry, during the several reigns
succeeding the Conquest, were bows and arrows, half-pikes, lances,
halberds, various kinds of battle-axes, swords, and daggers. Armour
was worn on the head and body, and in course of time the practice
became general for military men to be so completely cased in steel,
that it was almost impossible to slay them.
The introduction of the use of gunpowder in the destructive
purposes of war, in the early part of the fourteenth
century, produced a change in the arms and equipment of the
infantry-soldier. Bows and arrows gave place to various kinds of
fire-arms, but British archers continued formidable adversaries;
and, owing to the inconvenient construction and imperfect bore of
the fire-arms when first introduced, a body of men, well trained
in the use of the bow from their youth, was considered a valuable
acquisition to every army, even as late as the sixteenth century.
During a great part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth each company
of infantry usually consisted of men armed five different ways; in
every hundred men forty were "_men-at-arms_," and sixty "_shot_;"
the "men-at-arms" were ten halberdiers, or battle-axe men, and
thirty pikemen; and the "shot" were twenty archers, twenty
musketeers, and twenty harquebusiers, and each man carried, besides
his principal weapon, a sword and dagger.
Companies of infantry varied at this period in numbers from 150
to 300 men; each company had a colour or ensign, and the mode of
formation recommended by an English military writer (Sir John
Smithe) in 1590 was:--the colour in the centre of the company
guarded by the halberdiers; the pikemen in equal proportions, on
each flank of the halberdiers: half the musketeers on each flank
of the pikes; half the archers on each flank of the musketeers,
and the harquebusiers (whose arms were much lighter than the
muskets then in use) in equal proportions on each flank of the
company for skirmishing.[1] It was customary to unite a number
of companies into one body, called a REGIMENT, which frequently
amounted to three thousand men: but each company continued to carry
a colour. Numerous improvements were eventually introduced in the
construction of fire-arms, and, it having been found impossible to
make armour proof against the muskets then in use (which carried
a very heavy ball) without its being too weighty for the soldier,
armour was gradually laid aside by the infantry in the seventeenth
century: bows and arrows also fell into disuse, and the infantry
were reduced to two classes, viz.: _musketeers_, armed with
matchlock muskets, swords, and daggers; and _pikemen_, armed with
pikes from fourteen to eighteen feet long, and swords.
In the early part of the seventeenth century Gustavus Adolphus,
King of Sweden, reduced the strength of regiments to 1000 men. He
caused the gunpowder, which had heretofore been carried in flasks,
or in small wooden bandoliers, each containing a charge, to be
made up into cartridges, and carried in pouches; and he formed
each regiment into two wings of musketeers, and a centre division
of pikemen. He also adopted the practice of forming four regiments
into a brigade; and the number of colours was afterwards reduced to
three in each regiment. He formed his columns so compactly that his
infantry could resist the charge of the celebrated Polish horsemen
and Austrian cuirassiers; and his armies became the admiration of
other nations. His mode of formation was copied by the English,
French, and other European states; but so great was the prejudice
in favour of ancient customs, that all his improvements were not
adopted until near a century afterwards.
In 1664 King Charles II. raised a corps for sea-service, styled
the Admiral's regiment. In 1678 each company of 100 men usually
consisted of 30 pikemen, 60 musketeers, and 10 men armed with light
firelocks. In this year the King added a company of men armed with
hand grenades to each of the old British regiments, which was
designated the "grenadier company." Daggers were so contrived as to
fit in the muzzles of the muskets, and bayonets, similar to those
at present in use, were adopted about twenty years afterwards.
An Ordnance regiment was raised in 1685, by order of King James
II., to guard the artillery, and was designated the Royal Fusiliers
(now 7th Foot). This corps, and the companies of grenadiers, did
not carry pikes.
King William III. incorporated the Admiral's regiment in the second
Foot Guards, and raised two Marine regiments for sea-service.
During the war in this reign, each company of infantry (excepting
the fusiliers and grenadiers) consisted of 14 pikemen and 46
musketeers; the captains carried pikes; lieutenants, partisans;
ensigns, half-pikes; and serjeants, halberds. After the peace in
1697 the Marine regiments were disbanded, but were again formed on
the breaking out of the war in 1702.[2]
During the reign of Queen Anne the pikes were laid aside, and every
infantry soldier was armed with a musket, bayonet, and sword; the
grenadiers ceased, about the same period, to carry hand grenades;
and the regiments were directed to lay aside their third colour:
the corps of Royal Artillery was first added to the Army in this
reign.
About the year 1745, the men of the battalion companies of infantry
ceased to carry swords; during the reign of George II. light
companies were added to infantry regiments; and in 1764 a Board of
General Officers recommended that the grenadiers should lay aside
their swords, as that weapon had never been used during the Seven
Years' War. Since that period the arms of the infantry soldier have
been limited to the musket and bayonet.
The arms and equipment of the British Troops have seldom differed
materially, since the Conquest, from those of other European
states; and in some respects the arming has, at certain periods,
been allowed to be inferior to that of the nations with whom they
have had to contend; yet, under this disadvantage, the bravery and
superiority of the British infantry have been evinced on very many
and most trying occasions, and splendid victories have been gained
over very superior numbers.
Great Britain has produced a race of lion-like champions who have
dared to confront a host of foes, and have proved themselves
valiant with any arms. At _Crecy_, King Edward III., at the head
of about 30,000 men, defeated, on the 26th of August, 1346, Philip
King of France, whose army is said to have amounted to 100,000
men; here British valour encountered veterans of renown:--the
King of Bohemia, the King of Majorca, and many princes and nobles
were slain, and the French army was routed and cut to pieces. Ten
years afterwards, Edward Prince of Wales, who was designated the
Black Prince, defeated, at _Poictiers_, with 14,000 men, a French
army of 60,000 horse, besides infantry, and took John I., King of
France, and his son Philip, prisoners. On the 25th of October,
1415, King Henry V., with an army of about 13,000 men, although
greatly exhausted by marches, privations, and sickness, defeated,
at _Agincourt_, the Constable of France, at the head of the flower
of the French nobility and an army said to amount to 60,000 men,
and gained a complete victory.
During the seventy years' war between the United Provinces of the
Netherlands and the Spanish monarchy, which commenced in 1578 and
terminated in 1648, the British infantry in the service of the
States-General were celebrated for their unconquerable spirit and
firmness;[3] and in the thirty years' war between the Protestant
Princes and the Emperor of Germany, the British Troops in the
service of Sweden and other states were celebrated for deeds of
heroism.[4] In the wars of Queen Anne, the fame of the British
army under the great MARLBOROUGH was spread throughout the world;
and if we glance at the achievements performed within the memory
of persons now living, there is abundant proof that the Britons
of the present age are not inferior to their ancestors in the
qualities which constitute good soldiers. Witness the deeds of
the brave men, of whom there are many now surviving, who fought in
Egypt in 1801, under the brave Abercromby, and compelled the French
army, which had been vainly styled _Invincible_, to evacuate that
country; also the services of the gallant Troops during the arduous
campaigns in the Peninsula, under the immortal WELLINGTON; and
the determined stand made by the British Army at Waterloo, where
Napoleon Bonaparte, who had long been the inveterate enemy of Great
Britain, and had sought and planned her destruction by every means
he could devise, was compelled to leave his vanquished legions to
their fate, and to place himself at the disposal of the British
Government. These achievements, with others of recent dates, in the
distant climes of India, prove that the same valour and constancy
which glowed in the breasts of the heroes of Crecy, Poictiers,
Agincourt, Blenheim, and Ramilies, continue to animate the Britons
of the nineteenth century.
The British Soldier is distinguished for a robust and muscular
frame,--intrepidity which no danger can appal,--unconquerable
spirit and resolution,--patience in fatigue and privation, and
cheerful obedience to his superiors. These qualities, united with
an excellent system of order and discipline to regulate and give
a skilful direction to the energies and adventurous spirit of
the hero, and a wise selection of officers of superior talent to
command, whose presence inspires confidence,--have been the leading
causes of the splendid victories gained by the British arms.[5]
The fame of the deeds of the past and present generations in the
various battle-fields where the robust sons of Albion have fought
and conquered, surrounds the British arms with a halo of glory;
these achievements will live in the page of history to the end of
time.
The records of the several regiments will be found to contain a
detail of facts of an interesting character, connected with the
hardships, sufferings, and gallant exploits of British soldiers in
the various parts of the world where the calls of their Country
and the commands of their Sovereign have required them to proceed
in the execution of their duty, whether in active continental
operations, or in maintaining colonial territories in distant and
unfavourable climes.
The superiority of the British infantry has been pre-eminently set
forth in the wars of six centuries, and admitted by the greatest
commanders which Europe has produced. The formations and movements
of this _arme_, as at present practised, while they are adapted
to every species of warfare, and to all probable situations
and circumstances of service, are calculated to show forth the
brilliancy of military tactics calculated upon mathematical and
scientific principles. Although the movements and evolutions have
been copied from the continental armies, yet various improvements
have from time to time been introduced, to insure that simplicity
and celerity by which the superiority of the national military
character is maintained. The rank and influence which Great Britain
has attained among the nations of the world, have in a great
measure been purchased by the valour of the Army, and to persons
who have the welfare of their country at heart, the records of the
several regiments cannot fail to prove interesting.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] A company of 200 men would appear thus:--
__|
| |
|__|
|
20 20 20 30 2|0 30 20 20 20
Harquebuses. Muskets. Halberds. Muskets. Harquebuses.
Archers. Pikes. Pikes. Archers.
The musket carried a ball which weighed 1/10th of a pound; and the
harquebus a ball which weighed 1/25th of a pound.
[2] The 30th, 31st, and 32nd Regiments were formed as Marine corps
in 1702, and were employed as such during the wars in the reign
of Queen Anne. The Marine corps were embarked in the Fleet under
Admiral Sir George Rooke, and were at the taking of Gibraltar, and
in its subsequent defence in 1704; they were afterwards employed at
the siege of Barcelona in 1705.
[3] The brave Sir Roger Williams, in his Discourse on War, printed
in 1590, observes:--"I persuade myself ten thousand of our nation
would beat thirty thousand of theirs (the Spaniards) out of the
field, let them be chosen where they list." Yet at this time the
Spanish infantry was allowed to be the best disciplined in Europe.
For instances of valour displayed by the British Infantry during
the Seventy Years' War, see the Historical Record of the Third
Foot, or Buffs.
[4] _Vide_ the Historical Record of the First, or Royal Regiment of
Foot.
[5] "Under the blessing of Divine Providence, His Majesty ascribes
the successes which have attended the exertions of his troops in
Egypt to that determined bravery which is inherent in Britons; but
His Majesty desires it may be most solemnly and forcibly impressed
on the consideration of every part of the army, that it has been a
strict observance of order, discipline, and military system, which
has given the full energy to the native valour of the troops, and
has enabled them proudly to assert the superiority of the national
military character, in situations uncommonly arduous, and under
circumstances of peculiar difficulty."--_General Orders in 1801._
In the General Orders issued by Lieut.-General Sir John Hope
(afterwards Lord Hopetoun), congratulating the army upon the
successful result of the Battle of Corunna, on the 16th of January,
1809, it is stated:--"On no occasion has the undaunted valour of
British troops ever been more manifest. At the termination of a
severe and harassing march, rendered necessary by the superiority
which the enemy had acquired, and which had materially impaired
the efficiency of the troops, many disadvantages were to be
encountered. These have all been surmounted by the conduct of the
troops themselves: and the enemy has been taught, that whatever
advantages of position or of numbers he may possess, there is
inherent in the British officers and soldiers a bravery that knows
not how to yield,--that no circumstances can appal,--and that will
ensure victory, when it is to be obtained by the exertion of any
human means."
HISTORICAL RECORD
OF
THE TWENTY-FIRST REGIMENT,
OR
THE ROYAL NORTH BRITISH FUSILIERS.
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THE FORMATION OF THE REGIMENT
IN 1678,
AND OF ITS SUBSEQUENT SERVICES
TO 1849.
COMPILED BY
RICHARD CANNON, ESQ.,
ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE, HORSE GUARDS.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PLATES.
LONDON:
PARKER, FURNIVALL, & PARKER,
30, CHARING-CROSS.
MDCCCXLIX.
London: Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES and SONS, Stamford Street,
For Her Majesty's Stationery Office.
THE TWENTY-FIRST REGIMENT,
OR
THE ROYAL NORTH BRITISH FUSILIERS,
BEARS ON THE REGIMENTAL COLOUR
"THE THISTLE"
WITHIN THE CIRCLE AND MOTTO OF SAINT ANDREW,
"_Nemo me impune lacessit_;"
SURMOUNTED BY
THE IMPERIAL CROWN.
THE TWENTY-FIRST REGIMENT,
OR
THE ROYAL NORTH BRITISH REGIMENT,
CONTENTS
OF THE
HISTORICAL RECORD.
YEAR PAGE
INTRODUCTION.
1678 Formation of the Regiment 1
---- Appointment of Charles, Earl of Mar, to the
Colonelcy -
---- Armed with light muskets, and called _Fusiliers_ 2
1679 Rebellion in Scotland, and murder of _Archbishop
Sharp_ -
---- Attack and defeat of the rebels at _Bothwell
Bridge_ -
1685 Death of King Charles II., and accession of
King James II. -
---- Rebellion in Scotland excited by the Earl of
Argyle 3
1686 Colonel Thomas Buchan appointed to the Colonelcy,
in the place of the Earl of Mar -
1688 Marched from Scotland to London, on occasion
of the expected landing of the Prince of
Orange -
---- Flight of King James II. to France 4
---- Regiment marched into Oxfordshire -
1689 The Prince and Princess of Orange elevated
to the throne, by the titles of King William
III. and Queen Mary 4
---- Colonel F. F. O'Farrell appointed to the Colonelcy,
in place of Colonel T. Buchan -
---- Regiment embarked for Holland -
---- Joined the Army under the Earl of Marlborough -
---- Engaged with the French at _Walcourt_ -
1691 Encamped near Brussels 5
1692 Battle of _Steenkirk_ -
1693 Battle of _Landen_ 6
1694 Performed many marches, and arrived at
_Deinse_ 7
---- Directed to take rank and precedence as the
_Twenty-first_ Regiment of Infantry -
1695 Surrender of the town of _Deinse_ by Brigadier-General
O'Farrell 8
---- Appointment of Colonel Robert Mackay, in
place of Brigadier O'Farrell, cashiered by a
General Court-Martial -
1696 Proceeded to the camp at Marykirk, and served
with the army of Brabant -
1697 Appointment of Colonel Archibald Row to the
Coloneley, in succession to Colonel R. Mackay,
deceased 9
---- Treaty of Peace concluded at Ryswick -
---- Regiment returned to Scotland -
1702 Death of King William III. -
---- Accession of Queen Anne -
---- Declaration of War with France and Spain -
---- Embarked from Scotland for Holland -
1703 Joined the allied army at Maestricht -
---- Siege and capture of _Huy_ 10
---- ---------------- of _Limburg_ --
1704 Marched from Holland into Germany 10
---- Engaged in the Battle of _Schellenberg_ --
---- ------ in the Battle of _Blenheim_ 11
---- The three Field-Officers, Brigadier-General
Row, Lieut.-Colonel Dalyel, and Major
Campbell, killed in obtaining the glorious
Victory of Blenheim 12
---- Appointment of John, Viscount Mordaunt, to
the Colonelcy, in succession to Brigadier-General
Row --
1705 Completed with recruits from Scotland, and
engaged in forcing the French lines at _Helixem_
and _Neer Hespen_ 13
1706 Engaged in the Battle of _Ramilies_ --
---- ------ in the capture of _Ostend_, _Menin_, and
_Aeth_ 14
---- Appointment of Colonel Sampson de Lalo,
from the 28th Regiment, in exchange with
Viscount Mordaunt --
1707 Engaged in marches, &c., in West Flanders --
---- The Union of Scotland and England took place;
and certain additions and alterations were
made in consequence in the colours and titles
of Regiments --
1708 Engaged in the Battle of _Oudenarde_ --
---- ------ in the siege and capture of _Lisle_ 15
1709 ------ in the siege and capture of _Tournay_ --
---- ------ in the Battle of _Malplaquet_ --
---- Re-appointment of Viscount Mordaunt to the
Colonelcy, in succession to Major-General
De Lalo, killed in the Battle of Malplaquet 16
---- Engaged in the siege and capture of _Mons_ --
1710 ------ in passing the French lines at _Pont-à-Vendin_ --
---- ------ in siege and capture of _Douay_ --
1710 Engaged in siege and capture of _Bethune_ 16
---- ---------------------------- of _St. Venant_ --
---- ---------------------------- of _Aire_ --
---- Appointment of Lieut.-General Thomas Meredith
to the Colonelcy, in succession to Viscount
Mordaunt --
---- Appointment of the Earl of Orrery to the
Colonelcy, in succession to Lieut.-General
Meredith, removed --
1711 Engaged in passing the French lines at _Arleux_ 17
---- ------ | 1,176.354235 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.3344150 | 960 | 9 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Paul Clark and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible. Some changes of spelling and punctuation have been made.
They are listed at the end of the text.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
[Illustration:
J. C. BURROW, F.R.P.S. BREAGE CHURCH. Camborne.]
THE
Story of an Ancient Parish
BREAGE WITH GERMOE,
With some account of its
Armigers, Worthies and
Unworthies, Smugglers
and Wreckers, Its
Traditions and Superstitions
BY
H. R. COULTHARD, M.A.
1913.
THE CAMBORNE PRINTING AND STATIONERY COMPANY, LIMITED.
CAMBORNE, CORNWALL.
MR. J. A. D. BRIDGER, 112a and 112b, Market Jew Street. Penzance.
_I dedicate this small volume to the friends and neighbours who in the
first place suggested the writing of it to me by telling me stories of
the days of their fathers._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE CELTIC PERIOD 9
II. THE SAXONS 28
III. FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE REFORMATION 35
IV. THE REFORMATION TO THE END OF THE COMMONWEALTH 59
V. RECENT TIMES 82
VI. THE GODOLPHINS 100
VII. THE ARUNDELLS, DE PENGERSICKS, MILTONS AND SPARNONS 115
VIII. WORTHIES AND UNWORTHIES 129
IX. PLACE NAMES AND SUPERSTITIONS 148
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Breage Church, Frontispiece 2
Celtic Cross in Breage Churchyard 24
Frescos in Breage Church 51
St. Germoe's Chair 55
Godolphin House 100
A Godolphin Helmet in Breage Church 103
Pengersick Castle 119
PREFACE.
The facts and thoughts which comprise this little book were many of
them, in the first instance, arranged for use in sermons on the Sundays
preceding our local Feast Day, as some attempt to interest Parishioners
in the story of our Church and parish.
I have to acknowledge with gratitude much information given me most
ungrudgingly, from his great store of antiquarian learning, by the
Reverend T. Taylor, Vicar of St. Just; likewise my thanks are due to Mr.
H. Jenner for kindly help and information upon the etymology of local
place names. I must also acknowledge the free use I have made of facts
bearing upon the history of Breage and Germoe taken from Mr.
Baring-Gould's "Historic Characters and Events in Cornwall," and at the
same time I have to express my thanks to the Reverend H. J. Warner,
Vicar of Yealmpton, the Reverend H. G. Burden, Vicar of Leominster, and
Mr. A. E. Spender for valuable information and assistance. I have been
greatly helped in my examination of the Parish Registers by the
excellent transcription of large parts of them made by Mrs. Jocelyn
Barnes. Finally I have to thank a great number of kind friends at
Breage, who have imparted to me the fast fading traditions of other
times, to whom I venture to dedicate this brief record of days that are
no more.
_Breage,
All Saints' Day, 1912._
Date of |
Insti- | LIST OF THE VICARS OF BREAGE.
tution. |
|--------------------------------+-------------------------------------
-- |WILLIAM, SON OF RICHARD |Died or resigned during the Interdict
1219 |WILLIAM, SON OF HUMPHREY |
1264 |MASTER ROBERT DE LA MORE |Resigned to become Canon of Glasney,
| | ultimately parson of Yeovil.
1264 |MASTER STEPHENUS DE ARBOR |
| 1,176.354455 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.3415880 | 76 | 16 |
Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: Unmasked and helpless, she maintained an attitude of
challenge and defiance]
THE WOMAN OF MYSTERY
BY MAURICE LEBLANC
AUTHOR OF "CONFESSIONS OF ARSENE | 1,176.361628 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.3534400 | 6,159 | 12 |
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
FIVE LITTLE STARRS SERIES
_ILLUSTRATED_
Price per volume 35 cents
FIVE LITTLE STARRS
FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A CANAL-BOAT
FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A RANCH
FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN AN ISLAND CABIN
FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN THE CANADIAN FOREST
(In Preparation)
FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A MOTOR TOUR
[Illustration: Mike Sat Down on a Log to Watch Over the Children.]
FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN THE CANADIAN FOREST
BY
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
AUTHOR OF THE "BLUE BIRD SERIES"
[Illustration]
New York
THE PLATT & NOURSE CO.
Copyright, 1915, by
THE PLATT & PECK CO.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A LUMBER CAMP IN PROSPECT 7
II A LUMBER CAMP IN WINTER 30
III THE INDIAN TRAPPER 53
IV THE ENGINEER'S ASSISTANTS 76
V JUMPIN' JANE'S ANTICS 100
VI OUTDOOR FUN IN A LUMBER CAMP 126
VII CHRISTMAS AT THE LUMBER CAMP 147
VIII MIKE'S BEAR TRAP 170
IX FATHER BEAR VISITS THE CAMP 190
X AFLOAT ON THE RIVER RAFT 212
FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN A CANADIAN FOREST
CHAPTER I
A LUMBER CAMP IN PROSPECT
"DADDUM, are we'most there?" asked Dorothy Starr, impatiently, as the
uncomfortable local train creaked over its uneven tracks through dense
forests in Western Ontario.
"Almost, Dot--have a little more patience and soon you will be able to
exercise those active little legs," returned Mr. Starr, as he consulted
his watch.
"Guess we'll all be glad to exercise after this awful smoky, crampy
ride," grumbled Donald, Dot's twin brother.
"Our winter in the lumber camp will have to be mighty fine to make us
forget this outlandish trip ever since we left Grand Forks," declared
Meredith Starr, the oldest boy.
"We have one consolation, Mete, and that is, we don't have to travel
home in the Spring by the same route," laughed his sister Lavinia.
"Well, children, you all have had some remark to make about the
discomforts of this car and the dreadful condition of the tracks, but it
is far better than riding in a springless lumber wagon for the same
distance," commented Mrs. Starr, shifting the baby's sleepy head from
her shoulder to her knees.
"We'd never have come if Daddum knew we had to travel _that_ way!"
exclaimed Don.
"No, but Daddum had to travel that way, and on horseback, years ago,
before this track was laid," replied Mrs. Starr.
"Did you, Daddum? Oh, do tell us about it!" cried the restless children,
as they crowded into the seat beside their father.
"It isn't an exciting tale, but it is very appropriate at this time,"
replied Mr. Starr, smiling at the eager faces. "I was a very young man
then. I didn't find out until I returned to New York after that trip
what a prize your mother was."
"Oh, how does Mumzie know about the trip, then?" asked Dot.
"Because I have often told her how that trip decided for me my future
business life," replied Mr. Starr.
"Dot, please don't interrupt Daddum with silly questions again," said
Lavinia to her little sister.
"When I got off the train at Grand Forks, on that trip, I expected to
meet an old friend at the station, but he was not there. I stopped at
the best hotel in the town, which would have been about sixth-rate
anywhere else, and the next morning my friend Dean came in. He had had
to ride about forty miles out of his way on account of a flooded river
and that was why he was not on time to meet me.
"Well, after he had made a few purchases in town he was ready to start
back. I had a good horse waiting for me at the hotel shed, and soon we
were on the return trip.
"The further north we went the more beautiful and wilder the scenery
became until I thought we would be lost in the dense primeval forests.
How Dean managed to find his way I could not make out, but he seemed to
know every stump, every mound, and every blaze on the trees along the
trail.
"We stopped at noon to rest the horses and have a bite to eat. While we
lay under the trees smoking our pipes and waiting for the horses to
finish their oats, an old hunter passed by.
"We invited him to join us but he was anxious to meet an Indian trapper
some miles further on, so we were compelled to decline Dean's
invitation.
"After finishing our pipes, we started on the last half of our journey.
"We hadn't gone more than four miles before we saw in the trail the deep
cut of a wagon-track that struck in from a side-trail that led to an
eastern lumber-town.
"'Huh! Must be pretty heavy pulling for the horses,' said Dean, knowing
that it would take a heavy load to make the wheels sink down so far in
the soft soil.
"'Were they here yesterday, when you came by?' I asked.
"'No, and I should say the outfit wasn't very far ahead, either,'
replied Dean.
"And so it was. In a short time we caught up with a kind of
'prairie-schooner' wagon, and found that a pioneer with his family had
dared the wilderness of the Canadian forest to wrest a living from the
earth.
"Dean rode alongside for a time, giving the man some valuable points
about the country, and advising him as to the best trails. The man
thanked us profusely as we rode on.
"While Dean talked with the man I rode by the side of the wagon and
spoke with the wife who was a very sweet woman of about thirty. She held
a child about two years old in her lap while a boy of five slept upon a
bundle of clothing on the rough wagon-floor.
"Now, this family had come from a town eighty miles east of the trail
where we met them, and they were bound for a distant, fertile valley
about a hundred miles further to the west where they intended to stop
and look about for a permanent home. The woman and children were stiff
and sore from the jolts of the springless wagon as it bumped over huge
rocks, or suddenly slid into wide ruts made by washouts. But they never
complained about aching bones, for they knew the father couldn't help
them, and they were trying to keep up his spirits.
"Dean and I continued along the trail until we came to the flooded
region that made him miss my coming the day before. The river seemed
higher than ever, Dean said, and we had to try the roundabout way again.
We traveled along the banks for at least thirty miles, but not a spot
could be found where we could ford, or even swim our horses.
"Finally, we pulled rein to discuss the problem, when Dean saw a thin
wreath of smoke rising among the trees near at hand. As no forester ever
permits the sight of smoke to go uninvestigated for fear of forest
fires, he jumped off of his horse and rushed into the woods. After a
short time he returned with our friend the hunter and an Indian.
"'The men say we can't get over to-day--we'll have to wait about until
the water recedes somewhat,' Dean explained.
"'Can't we cross where you did last night?' I asked.
"'Not to-day--the water has risen much higher since then and it would be
taking too much of a chance to risk it. We'll stay here until it is
safe,' said Dean, as he led his horse into the woods toward the
Indian's temporary camp.
"I followed the three men and wondered how the Indian ever got the name
of Mike. Later I heard that his own name was so hard to pronounce that
everyone who knew him abbreviated it to 'Mike'.
"Well, we camped and hunted and fished there with the two elderly men
for a week before we could go on, but it was a week of rare sport, for
the hunter and trapper were experts, and they had many exciting stories
to tell of narrow escapes from wild animals and other adventures.
"Dean and I finally arrived at the lumber camp where the men had
decided to send out a scout to trail Dean, who they feared was lost, or
injured somewhere on the way. So, they were greatly relieved to see us
ride along the river-road that led into the camp which consisted of a
small group of huts."
"Daddum, that story wasn't as good as most of yours are," criticised
Don.
"Perhaps not, my son," laughed Mr. Starr, "for I see we are nearing our
destination and I only planned to keep up the tale long enough to keep
you from thinking of your tired selves."
"Get there in about seven minutes, sir," announced the old conductor as
he shuffled through the car.
"Hurrah!" cried Don, jumping upon the seat to get his baggage.
"Why, I can't see any town!" exclaimed Dot, looking out of the car
window.
"Don't bother about the town, Dot, but take your hat and jacket out of
the rack," advised Lavinia, who was busy trying to gather together the
various belongings of the family.
"Babs! Wake up, little sister," called Mrs. Starr as she gently shook
the sleepy little girl.
"Is 't mornin'?" yawned the baby.
Everybody laughed so that Babs soon sat up and looked about in
surprise.
"Oh, see out there--the funny place!" exclaimed Dot.
"That's the city where we shall stay over night," said Mr. Starr,
carrying suit-cases and grips toward the door.
A surprise awaited the Starr family as they descended from the train,
for Mr. and Mrs. Latimer were there to greet them.
"Well, when did you get here?" asked Mr. Starr, after greetings were
over.
"Day before yesterday, so we thought we would wait and start for the
camp together," returned Mr. Latimer.
As there were no porters or cabs in the isolated town, they had to
carry their own luggage. Mr. Latimer undertook to find a boy with a
wheelbarrow to take the trunks to the hotel. "Hotel! Is there such a
thing here, Mr. Latimer?" laughed Meredith.
"Wait until you see! You will be very proud to send home picture
post-cards of the place!" replied Mrs. Latimer.
"Where's Paul and Marjory?" suddenly asked Meredith, who had missed
Jinks, his chum, on the trip from Oakdale.
"Why, Marjory is reading to an old invalid this afternoon and Paul went
fishing with some boys," explained Mrs. Latimer.
While the Starrs are following their friends, the Latimers, from the
station to the hotel, let us see how they all came to be in this faraway
place in Canada.
When the Starrs left the island in Casco Bay in the early part of
September, Mr. Latimer, who lived in Portland, Maine, mentioned a trip
to the lumber regions of Canada. As Mr. Starr was interested in a large
lumber deal with Mr. Latimer, and had spent his summer in Maine on that
account, he decided to associate himself with Mr. Latimer in the
Canadian Pine Investment Co.
Consequently, the Starr family packed up their belongings and returned
to Oakwood from Maine several weeks sooner than they had expected, for
it was necessary that the children be completely fitted out with warm
clothing, and other necessities, if they were to spend the winter in a
lumber camp with the Latimers.
Of course, Mrs. Starr worried about keeping the children from school all
winter, but Mrs. Latimer said that the governess, who had been with her
children for several years, could so arrange her hours that all the
children could study under her direction. This arrangement satisfied
Mrs. Starr, and the only drawback to enjoying the novelty of life in a
lumber camp was entirely removed.
The Starrs left Oakwood the latter part of October and reached Grand
Forks the first of November. From there they traveled by various routes
until they reached their destination in the extreme southeastern part of
Manitoba.
Here, the Latimers awaited them, and had made all arrangements for the
further journey into the heart of the forests where the pine and other
valuable timber stood.
The lumber crew, consisting of a foreman, cook and two helpers,
hostlers, drivers, and most of those that felled trees, had gone on to
the camp some time previous to the Starrs' arrival, but a few of the men
were still in town waiting for their foreman.
The lumbermen who were waiting to start for camp stood about the small
stoop of the house which was known as the "hotel," and scanned the group
slowly walking toward them. The Latimers were already known to the men,
but the new-comers were a source of curiosity.
The men who were to supervise the cutting, hoisting and hauling of the
timber to be cut that winter were of a rugged, good-natured type, and
the Starrs were glad to note their clean-cut appearance.
Mr. Latimer had explained to the new arrivals the presence of the crew
at the hotel, and also the various work the different men had charge of.
Don and Dot had overheard this conversation, and the moment the family
reached the porch Don carefully looked over the group and whispered to
Dot. Together they walked over to the men and entered into an animated
discourse with them.
"I heard that one of you men was an engineer on the engine that pulls
the trees out of the woods," said Don.
"I'm the one," remarked a tall muscular man, while his companions smiled
at the two children.
"We know how to run an engine," began Dot.
"Sh!" interrupted Don to his sister. "We didn't come over to tell you
that, but we wanted to say that we are glad to meet you. We three ought
to have some nice rides this winter on that engine of yours."
This brought a laugh from all but the engineer. He looked very serious
as he said, "I sure am glad to make your acquaintance. I reckon we'll be
very friendly." And he stuck out his large hand and shook Don's and
Dot's small hands most energetically.
"Did you say you run an engine?"
"Yep! when we were down on my grandfather's ranch in Texas. There were
some Indians always stealing and hiding in the woods and Dot and I
helped catch 'em," said Don, looking about to see if any of his family
overheard his remark.
"Don, that wasn't when we drove the engine. You know--I mean the time
the old thing ran away with us and everybody was so frightened!"
corrected truthful Dot.
"Well, it doesn't matter, now," hurriedly said Don. "I haven't heard
your name yet, mister. My twin-sister's is Dot an' mine is Don."
"My name is Jim--Jim Akerman, all told, but just call me Jim. An' now
I'll introduce you to the crew if you like," said the man, smiling at
the twins. "This man is fireman on the engine and his name is Pete. We
call him Pete on account of his job of piling peat on the fire."
"Do you use peat? Why, I thought you burned wood," said Don.
"We do up here, but down in Carolina we used a lot of bog-peat, 'cause
it's so hot a fire," explained Jim; then continued:
"Here's Bill, the tackle man; an' Jake, the swing-man; Ben and Johnny,
there, are hook-men. Then there's Alf, Jerry, and Mack, who have charge
of the cables."
Just as the introductions were over, Mr. Starr called from the front
door telling the children to come in and dress for supper.
CHAPTER II
A LUMBER CAMP IN WINTER
THE boss of the machinery crew came by the morning train and the next
day the entire party were ready to start on their way.
The men rode, while the women and children sat in a comfortable
carry-all drawn by four horses. The baggage and extra camp outfits were
packed in a cart drawn by two mules.
"Jus' like a picture of folks going west in the gold-fever time,"
ventured Don, looking ahead at the escort and behind at the cart and a
few riders.
"Let's play we are pioneers, shall we?" cried Dot, always ready for an
exciting adventure.
"And Mete can be the pioneer and Venie his wife. Babs will be their only
child," explained Don.
"Then who are we?" asked Dot.
"Me and you? Why, we are the Indians that hold up the wagon and shoot
everyone," replied Don, trying to look savage.
"Oh, dear, if we had only known this we could have worn our Indian suits
that we left home," sighed Dot.
"Never mind; I'll pin on this horse-blanket that's under the seat, and
you can wrap this linen dust-coat about you," said Don, dragging the
blanket out from its hiding place.
"I won't look a bit like an Indian in that old coat. Can't you see
another blanket with stripes on it?" asked Dot.
"Not a blanket, but here's a plaid lap-cover," replied Don, as he spied
the cotton cover under the blanket.
"What are you children pulling from under that seat?" asked Mrs. Starr,
who always watched the twins in fear and trembling.
"We're jus' goin' to be Indians and wear these things," explained Don,
carelessly.
Meredith had been sitting with the driver of the cart for some time,
hearing stories of life in the wilds, and Lavinia had been playing with
Babs during the time the travelling was bad, when the wagons went
slowly.
This was Don's opportunity.
Dot and he managed to get out of the back of the carry-all unnoticed.
They hid behind some bushes and as the leaders came opposite, Don jumped
out and shouted, dancing about and waving a club over his head. Dot
followed her brother's example, and both pranced and shrieked such
blood-curdling yells that Mrs. Starr almost fainted while Mrs. Latimer
hurriedly leaned out of the wagon to see who had been run over.
The horses merely jumped at the unexpected apparitions, then kept
plodding up the hill. Don and Dot clambered up the steps of the
carry-all trying to mimic the real scalpers, but Mrs. Starr caught each
one by an arm and bade them sit down and not get out again without her
permission.
Meredith had witnessed the whole performance from the cart and laughed
teasingly at the climax of the raid.
The journey took two days; the first day, at five o'clock, Mr. Latimer
called a halt for camp. This part of the trip was great sport for the
children for they roamed about the woods while the men cut fir branches
for beds, and watched the cook prepare a fine dinner out in the
wilderness.
The second day, about noon, the travellers reached the place selected
for a permanent camp. Of course, everyone was deeply interested in the
novel appearance of their winter home and, as soon as the twelve o'clock
dinner was served, started in to investigate the quarters.
The children trailed after the grownups, making their own observations
of affairs.
The bosses' cabins were among some magnificent trees, about one hundred
yards from the main camp. They were rough little log huts large enough
to hold four bunks, two on either side--a lower and an upper bunk--and
a chest of drawers at the side opposite the door. An opening in the roof
gave ventilation, and a small square window at each side of the chest of
drawers gave light in the daytime. The only light to be had at night was
from a candle, and heat, if the city folks needed any, must be had from
oil heaters, several of which had been included in the outfit.
The bunks of the crew were directly opposite the "bosses'" huts. A large
cleared space lay between the two sections, and at one end stood the
cook's quarters, with a long shed-like cabin in front of it to screen
the kitchen from the company. This shed was dining-room, parlor, and
general social center. At the fourth side, opposite the dining-room and
kitchen, was a commodious office with three rooms. Here the clerical
force worked, and the bosses planned and ordered the work of the
company.
This sort of life suited Don and Dot perfectly, and they peeped into
every bunk, and hovered about the kitchen, with the satisfaction of
having reached the great goal in life.
"This bunk is for the children--Don and Dot, Venie and Babs," explained
Mr. Starr, showing the bunks adjoining the hut which would be occupied
by himself and wife.
"Can't Dot and I have a hut all to ourselves?" asked Don, who hoped to
have great fun in these little huts.
"Not much!" laughed Mr. Starr. "I doubt if Venie can keep you two in
order, but we will try it."
"Where's Mete going to live?" asked Dot eagerly.
"Meredith and Paul will have bunks in the same hut with the foreman, and
Elizabeth has a bunk partitioned off from her father and mother's half
of a hut," replied Mrs. Starr.
"Well, guess I'll have a look at my house," ventured Don, stepping into
the log cabin which was to be his abode for a time.
"Dot, look'a here! they don't have bed-springs in these bunks,"
whispered Don, lifting up a corner of a sweet smelling mattress.
"And the mattress! What is it stuffed with?" exclaimed Dot.
"Don't know, but it smells fine, don't it?" said Don.
Meredith and Paul peeped in just then and seeing the two examining the
beds, laughed.
"You ought to see ours, if you think the company ought to provide you
with Dutch feather-beds," said Paul.
"What are yours?" Don asked.
"Just balsam branches heaped up in the bunks; we spread a blanket over
them at night and sink into peaceful dreams."
"Then we want balsam branches, too," demanded Dot.
"Why should we have these things if the other men have branches?"
queried Don.
"We'll ask Daddum next time we see him," said Meredith, as Paul and he
continued on their way.
"Dot, we'll just go over and take a look at those balsam beds. If we
like them better, we will ask Mumzie to have ours changed. If ours is
best, we won't say anything," whispered astute Don.
They found Paul's bunk filled with balsam branches as he said, but they
felt perfectly content with their nice soft mattresses after the balsam
had been tested.
Before any further matters of interest could be found, a deafening sound
came from the cook's quarters. The twins ran out to the clearing to find
the meaning of the noise, and saw one of the cook's helpers walking
about banging a wooden potato-masher furiously upon the bottom of a
brass pan. The echoes of the strokes could be heard coming from every
direction in the forest.
"What's that for?" asked Don, running over to Mose, the helper.
"I'se callin' you-alls for dinner," grinned Mose.
"Hey, Dot! come quick," called Don, turning to see if his sister was in
sight. "It's dinner time, and Mose is ringin' the bell."
Without further ado, Don went over to the shed and looked for his place
at the long table. For once he was undecided. There were two long
tables, and the places set were so exactly alike that Don was not sure
where he was supposed to sit.
"Where are all of the other men, Daddum?" asked Lavinia, seeing that
only half of the men were present.
"They have been cutting out rough roads from our timber to the river,
and have taken their dinner in pails, as it is too far for them to come
to camp and then return afterward," said Mr. Starr.
"What river, Daddum?" asked Don, quickly.
"The river down which the logs float in the spring," said Mr. Starr.
"Do you own the river?" asked Dot, wondering how much of the earth her
father possessed.
"We own the right to use it for our logging business," replied Mr.
Starr, and smiled at his little girl's disappointed look.
"Why do they cut roads, Daddum? Aren't there any ready made that you can
use?" asked Dot.
"Not in the forests, Dot. We have to break out roadways so the heavy
skidding and loading machines can go in among the trees and lift the cut
timber up and on the sledges that will cart it down to the water,"
explained Mr. Starr.
"You will soon be able to see the way it has to be done and then you
will understand better," added Mr. Latimer.
"When can we see--this afternoon?" asked Don, impatiently.
"Maybe you will have time to go with me directly after dinner," hinted
Mr. Latimer.
"Yes, yes! Of course we will, 'cause we don't begin lessons 'till
Monday, you know," exclaimed Don and Dot together.
The rice pudding was almost forgotten that day, so eager were the
children to go and see the interesting work of the men of the camp.
They trudged along the newly cut road which they had travelled over in
the morning, but, after walking for half a mile, Mr. Latimer left the
road and went along a narrow trail that ran into the thick forest.
Walking along this for a mile or so, the children heard the sound of
chopping, and crashes every now and then, and the shouting of men to
each other. In about ten minutes' time they could see moving figures
between the thick trunks of trees, and soon came to the place where the
road was being broken out.
Here, indeed, was activity and exciting work. The children were
cautioned about the danger.
Don watched with every faculty strained to its utmost. He saw an
opening through the thick growth of pine trees running far into the
depths of the forest. In the opposite direction, where the men were
working, the forest remained intact.
"Guess that's the road Daddum said they were breaking out," he
commented, to the other children.
"An' that's what they have to cut down to get out to the river," added
Paul, pointing toward the thick trees on the other side.
Suddenly, a shout of "Ye-ho!" was heard and the lumbermen ran off in
every direction, while a crackling sound came from the tree that was
being cut; in another moment down crashed the giant pine, tearing away
obstructing branches from other trees.
"Oh!" sighed Don, clutching his hands in tense interest, and the other
children sat as rigid as statues until the tree was down.
Some men instantly hopped upon the fallen giant and started lopping off
the branches, while the other men began work on the next tree in the
road.
The "breaking out" of the road through the virgin forest kept on in this
way until the men were some distance farther on than they were when the
children first came upon the scene. When Mr. Latimer returned to take
them back to camp they were quite willing to go.
That evening the children had a great deal to tell their mothers and Don
added | 1,176.37348 |
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Produced by William McClain
Pagan Papers was first published in 1893 and the text is in the public
domain. This is a reprint of the first American edition of 1898. The
transcription was done by William McClain <[email protected]>,
2002.
A printed version of this book is available from Sattre Press,
http://pagan_papers.sattre-press.com/. It includes a glossary of
French and Latin phrases.
PAGAN PAPERS
by Kenneth Grahame
The Romance of the Road
Among the many places of magic visited by Pantagruel and his company
during the progress of their famous voyage, few surpass that island
whose roads did literally "go" to places -- "ou les chemins
cheminent, comme animaulx": and would-be travellers, having inquired
of the road as to its destination, and received satisfactory reply,
"se guindans" (as the old book hath it -- hoisting themselves up on)
"au chemin opportun, sans aultrement se poiner ou fatiguer, se
trouvoyent au lieu destine."
The best example I know of an approach to this excellent sort of
vitality in roads is the Ridgeway of the North Berkshire Downs. Join
it at Streatley, the point where it crosses the Thames; at once it
strikes you out and away from the habitable world in a splendid,
purposeful manner, running along the highest ridge of the Downs a
broad green ribbon of turf, with but a shade of difference from the
neighbouring grass, yet distinct for all that. No villages nor
homesteads tempt it aside or modify its course for a yard; should you
lose the track where it is blent with the bordering turf or merged in
and obliterated by criss-cross paths, you have only to walk straight
on, taking heed of no alternative to right or left; and in a minute
'tis with you again -- arisen out of the earth as it were. Or, if
still not quite assured, lift you your eyes, and there it runs over
the brow of the fronting hill. Where a railway crosses it, it
disappears indeed -- hiding Alpheus-like, from the ignominy of rubble
and brick-work; but a little way on it takes up the running again with
the same quiet persistence. Out on that almost trackless expanse of
billowy Downs such a track is in some sort humanly companionable: it
really seems to lead you by the hand.
The "Rudge" is of course an exceptional instance; but indeed this
pleasant personality in roads is not entirely fanciful. It exists as a
characteristic of the old country road, evolved out of the primitive
prehistoric track, developing according to the needs of the land it
passes through and serves: with a language, accordingly, and a meaning
of its own. Its special services are often told clearly enough; but
much else too of the quiet story of the country-side: something of the
old tale whereof you learn so little from the printed page. Each is
instinct, perhaps, with a separate suggestion. Some are martial and
historic, and by your side the hurrying feet of the dead raise a
ghostly dust. The name of yon town -- with its Roman or Saxon suffix
to British root -- hints at much. Many a strong man, wanting his vates
sacer, passed silently to Hades for that suffix to obtain. The little
rise up yonder on the Downs that breaks their straight green line
against the sky showed another sight when the sea of battle surged and
beat on its trampled sides; and the Roman, sore beset, may have gazed
down this very road for relief, praying for night or the succouring
legion. This child that swings on a gate and peeps at you from under
her sun-bonnet -- so may some girl-ancestress of hers have watched
with beating heart the Wessex levies hurry along to clash with the
heathen and break them on the down where the ash trees grew. And
yonder, where the road swings round under gloomy overgrowth of
drooping boughs -- is that gleam of water or glitter of lurking
spears?
Some sing you pastorals, fluting low in the hot sun between dusty
hedges overlooked by contented cows; past farmsteads where man and
beast, living in frank fellowship, learn pleasant and serviceable
lessons each of the other; over the full-fed river, lipping the
meadow-sweet, and thence on either side through leagues of hay. Or
through bending corn they chant the mystical wonderful song of the
reaper when the harvest is white to the sickle. But most of them,
avoiding classification, keep each his several tender significance; as
with one I know, not so far from town, which woos you from the valley
by gentle ascent between nut-laden hedges, and ever by some touch of
keen fragrance in the air, by some mystery of added softness under
foot -- ever a promise of something to come, unguessed, delighting.
Till suddenly you are among the pines, their keen scent strikes you
through and through, their needles carpet the ground, and in their
swaying tops moans the unappeasable wind -- sad, ceaseless, as the cry
of a warped humanity. Some paces more, and the promise is fulfilled,
the hints and whisperings become fruition: the ground breaks steeply
away, and you look over a great inland sea of fields, homesteads,
rolling woodland, and -- bounding all, blent with the horizon, a
greyness, a gleam -- the English Channel. A road of promises, of
hinted surprises, following each other with the inevitable sequence in
a melody.
But we are now in another and stricter sense an island of chemins qui
cheminent: dominated, indeed, by them. By these the traveller,
veritably se guindans, may reach his destination "sans se poiner ou
se fatiguer" (with large qualifications); but sans very much else
whereof he were none the worse. The gain seems so obvious that you
forget to miss all that lay between the springing stride of the early
start and the pleasant weariness of the end approached, when the limbs
lag a little as the lights of your destination begin to glimmer
through the dusk. All that lay between! "A Day's Ride a Life's
Romance" was the excellent title of an unsuccessful book; and indeed
the journey should march with the day, beginning and ending with its
sun, to be the complete thing, the golden round, required of it. This
makes that mind and body fare together, hand in hand, sharing the
hope, the action, the fruition; finding equal sweetness in the languor
of aching limbs at eve and in the first god-like intoxication of
motion with braced muscle in the sun. For walk or ride take the mind
over greater distances than a throbbing whirl with stiffening joints
and cramped limbs through a dozen counties. Surely you seem to cover
vaster spaces with Lavengro, footing it with gipsies or driving his
tinker's cart across lonely commons, than with many a globe-trotter or
steam-yachtsman with diary or log? And even that dividing line --
strictly marked and rarely overstepped -- between the man who bicycles
and the man who walks, is less due to a prudent regard for personal
s | 1,176.377569 |
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Produced by Tom Cosmas from materials made available on
The Internet Archive
Transcriber Note
Text emphasis is denoted by _Italics_ and =Bold=.
[Illustration: The Far North.--_Page 67._
(_Frontispiece._)]
THE FAR NORTH:
EXPLORATIONS IN
THE ARCTIC REGIONS.
BY
ELISHA KENT KANE, M.D.,
COMMANDER, SECOND "GRINNELL" EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.
EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM P. NIMMO & CO.
1879.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED BY M'FARLANE AND ERSKINE,
ST JAMES SQUARE.
PREFACE.
In May 1845, Sir John Franklin sailed from England with the ships
_Erebus_ and _Terror_, on an expedition to attempt the discovery of a
"North-West Passage," or water communication between the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, to the North of the American Continent. No intelligence
was received from him after the year following.
Numerous expeditions were fitted out and despatched in search of Franklin
and his brave crew, both from this country and from America. In 1854, Dr
Rae returned with information that the Esquimaux had reported having seen
the bodies of "forty white men," near Great Fish River, in the spring of
1850. This intelligence was not considered trustworthy, and Lady Franklin
fitted out a private expedition, under the command of Captain M'Clintock,
who sailed from Aberdeen in the steam-yacht _Fox_, July 1857. He returned
in 1859 with indisputable proofs of the death of Franklin, and the fate
of the expedition under his command,--full details of which he afterwards
published.[A]
[A] A Narrative of the Discovery of the Fate of Sir John Franklin and his
Companions. By Captain F. L. M'Clintock, R.N., LL.D. 8vo 1859.
The present volume is an epitome of "Arctic Explorations,"[B] an official
account of the Second "Grinnell" Expedition in search of Sir John
Franklin,--the First Grinnell Expedition having been dispatched in 1850
under Lieutenant De Haven, with Dr Kane as surgeon. These expeditions
were fitted out at New York, at the expense of a wealthy and generous
merchant of that city, named Grinnell, and Mr Peabody, the eminent
American resident in London, whose munificence and liberality are now so
well known in this country. In the Second Expedition, the brig _Advance_
was placed under the command of Dr Elisha Kent Kane, assistant-surgeon,
U.S.N., a gentleman well qualified, from previous experience, to
undertake such an important duty.
[B] Arctic Explorations: The Second Grinnell Expedition In Search of Sir
John Franklin, 1853-55. By Elisha Kent Kane, M.D., U.S.N. 2 vols 8vo.
1856.
Dr Kane was born at Philadelphia in 1822, and was educated at the
Medical College of Pennsylvania. In 1843 he accompanied the embassy
to China, and for some time travelled in the interior of India. He
also explored the Nile as far as the frontiers of Nubia, Returning to
America, he afterwards visited the slave-coasts of Africa. He served in
the U.S. army for a short period, and underwent many hardships during
the Mexican campaign. In 1853 he was appointed to the command of the
Arctic Expedition, a detailed narrative of which is contained in the
present volume. Dr Kane died at Havannah in 1857, at the early age of
thirty-five.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Chap. I. Organization--New York to the North Water, 9
Chap. II. The North Water to the Wintering Ground, 18
Chap. III. Our First Walk Out--The Depôt Party, 34
Chap. IV. Domestic Troubles--Return of the Depôt Party, 43
Chap. V. Our First Winter, 50
Chap. VI. An Anxious Search, 60
Chap. VII. The First Strange Faces--The Esquimaux, 74
Chap. VIII. A new Exploration--Return of Spring, 83
Chap. IX. Advent of the Second Year, 93
Chap. X. The North-East Party, 100
Chap. XI. Attempt to Reach Beechy Island, | 1,176.454478 |
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THE SURVEY
Volume XXX, Number 1, Apr 5, 1913
THE COMMON WELFARE
RESPONSE TO FLOOD CALLS
For the first time in the history of our great disasters, the country's
machinery for relief has been found ready to move with that precision
and efficiency which only careful previous organization could make
possible. In the flood and tornado stricken regions of the Mississippi
valley the Red Cross has given splendid evidence of the effectiveness of
its scheme of organization and of its methods as worked out on the basis
of experience at San Francisco, and as tested by the Minnesota and
Michigan forest fires, the Cherry mine disaster, and the Mississippi
Floods of last year.
Utilizing the largest and ablest charity organization societies which
serve as "institutional members," a force of executives and trained
workers was instantly deployed. With foreknowledge of just what to do
and how to do it, and without friction, these men and women have
reinforced the spontaneous response to emergency of citizens and
officials in the stricken communities.
Omaha's tornado had scarcely died down when Eugene T. Lies of the
Chicago United Charities was on his way to the city. Ernest P. Bicknell,
director of the National Red Cross, had reached Chicago, en route to
Omaha, when news of the Ohio floods turned him back. The same news
summoned Edward T. Devine from New York. It was Mr. Devine who organized
the Red Cross relief work at San Francisco, following the earthquake and
fire of 1908. Mr. Bicknell established headquarters at Columbus, itself
badly in the grip of the waters. At Dayton Mr. Devine, C. M. Hubbard of
the St. Louis Provident Association and T. J. Edmonds of the Cincinnati
Associated Charities concentrated their services.
When Cincinnati and its vicinity needed help, Mr. Edmonds returned to
his home city. The Omaha situation by this time could spare Mr. Lies for
Dayton. To Piqua, Sidney and other Ohio and Indiana flood points went
James F. Jackson of the Cleveland Associated Charities and other workers
from various organizations. The news from the Ohio and other floods
almost swamped that of an isolated disaster in Alabama where a tornado
devastated the town of Lower Peachtree. To handle the relief at this
point the Red Cross dispatched William M. McGrath of the Birmingham
Associated Charities, who had seen service a year ago in the Mississippi
floods.
To work under the direction of these executives, agents have been
drafted from the staffs of charitable organizations scattered throughout
the entire middle West, and even as far east as New York. Close
co-operation was at once established between this force, hastily
organized local committees and various branches of federal and state
government service. In Ohio the resources, equipment and staffs of the
army, the Public Health and Marine Hospital Service, the life-saving
service, the militia, the naval militia, and state departments of public
health, have all been applied promptly to the problem of emergency
relief. Governor Cox of Ohio, as ex-officio chairman of the Ohio Red
Cross State Commission, did much to assure this early co-operation.
Following the first work of rescue and relief, sanitation looms up as
one of the gravest problems of the Indiana and Ohio valleys. Immediately
upon the arrival of the secretary of war at Dayton a sanitary officer
was appointed, who divided the city into sixteen districts, each in
charge of a district sanitary officer. Each of these selected his own
staff from among local physicians and volunteer physicians from other
cities. Red Cross nurses in considerable numbers were early supplied.
Instructions in brief form have been sent broadcast over the city giving
definite directions to the inhabitants for the safeguarding of health.
The sewer and water systems are being reopened as rapidly as possible.
Early this week the expectation was that, although the dead in the city
would not total 200, it would be necessary to feed many thousands of
people for a week | 1,176.473277 |
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
From Squire to Squatter
A Tale of the Old Land and the New
By Gordon Stables
Published by John F. Shaw and Co., 48 Paternoster Row, London.
This edition dated 1888.
CHAPTER ONE.
BOOK I--AT BURLEY OLD FARM.
"TEN TO-MORROW, ARCHIE."
"So you'll be ten years old to-morrow, Archie?"
"Yes, father; ten to-morrow. Quite old, isn't it? I'll soon be a man,
dad. Won't it be fun, just?"
His father laughed, simply because Archie laughed. "I don't know about
the fun of it," he said; "for, Archie lad, your growing a man will
result in my getting old. Don't you see?"
Archie turned his handsome brown face towards the fire, and gazed at
it--or rather into it--for a few moments thoughtfully. Then he gave his
head a little negative kind of a shake, and, still looking towards the
fire as if addressing it, replied:
"No, no, no; I don't see it. Other boys' fathers _may_ grow old; mine
won't, mine couldn't, never, _never_."
"Dad," said a voice from the corner. It was a very weary, rather
feeble, voice. The owner of it occupied a kind of invalid couch, on
which he half sat and half reclined--a lad of only nine years, with a
thin, pale, old-fashioned face, and big, dark, dreamy eyes that seemed
to look you through and through as you talked to him.
"Dad."
"Yes, my dear."
"Wouldn't you like to be old really?"
"Wel--," the father was beginning.
"Oh," the boy went on, "I should dearly love to be old, very old, and
very wise, like one of these!" Here his glance reverted to a story-book
he had been reading, and which now lay on his lap.
His father and mother were used to the boy's odd remarks. Both parents
sat here to-night, and both looked at him with a sort of fond pity; but
the child's eyes had half closed, and presently he dropped out of the
| 1,176.57457 |
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provided by the Internet Archive
DAIREEN
Volume 2 of 2
By Frank Frankfort Moore
(Transcriber's Note: Chapters XX to XXIV were taken from a print
copy of a different edition as these chapters were missing from the 1889
print edition from which the rest of the Project Gutenberg edition was
taken. In the inserted four chapters it will be noted that the normal
double quotation marks were printed as single quote marks.)
CHAPTER XXIII.
I have heard of your paintings too.
_Hamlet_. His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me,
Lest... what I have to do
Will want true colour....
Do you see nothing there?
_Queen_. No, nothing but ourselves.
_Hamlet_. Why, look you there...
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal.
_Hamlet._
|I AM so glad to be beside some one who can tell me all I want to know'
said Lottie, looking up to Colonel Gerald's bronzed face when Mrs.
Crawford and Markham had walked on.
'My dear Lottie, you know very well that you know as much as I do,' he
answered, smiling down at her.
'Oh, Colonel Gerald, how can you say such a thing?' she cried
innocently | 1,176.669557 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.6791980 | 331 | 13 | Project Gutenberg Etext Elinor Wyllys, by Susan Fenimore Cooper
Volume 2
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Elinor Wyllys
by Susan Fenimore Cooper
October, 1999 [Etext #1928]
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2023-11-16 18:36:40.7401580 | 334 | 61 |
Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny
THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART
By Honore De Balzac
Translated By Katharine Prescott Wormeley
DEDICATION
To Madame la Duchesse de Castries.
THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART
CHAPTER I
The commercial traveller, a personage unknown to antiquity, is one of
the striking figures created by the manners and customs of our present
epoch. May he not, in some conceivable order of things, be destined to
mark for coming philosophers the great transition which welds a period
of material enterprise to the period of intellectual strength? Our
century will bind the realm of isolated power, abounding as it does
in creative genius, to the realm of universal but levelling might;
equalizing all products, spreading them broadcast among the masses, and
being itself controlled by the principle of unity,--the final expression
of all societies. Do we not find the dead level of barbarism succeeding
the saturnalia of popular thought and the last struggles of those
civilizations which accumulated the treasures of the world in one
direction?
The commercial traveller! Is he not to the realm of ideas what our
stage-coaches are to men and things? He is their vehicle; he sets them
going, carries them along, rubs them up with one another. He takes from
the luminous centre a handful of light, and scatters it broadcast among
the drowsy populations of the duller regions. This human pyrotechnic is
a scholar without learning, a juggler | 1,176.760198 |
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Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: Someone leaned above him to inspect his work. Chap X.]
THE WAYFARERS LIBRARY
The
VALLEY of the KINGS
Marmaduke Pickthall
J.M.DENT & SONS. Ltd.
LONDON
1914
THE
VALLEY OF THE KINGS
CHAPTER I
"Woe on you, mothers of nothing! May the scourge of Allah flay you as
you go!"
The mother of Iskender held the doorway of her little house in a
posture of spitting defiance. Rancour, deep-rooted and boundless,
ranged in her guttural snarl. Her black eyes burned to kill, their
thick brows quite united by the energy of her frown as she gazed across
a sand-dell, chary of vegetation but profuse in potsherds, towards the
white walls and high red roof of the Mission-house seen above a wave of
tamarisks on the opposite dune. The hedge of prickly pear defining her
small domain did not obstruct the view, for it consisted largely of
gaps, by one of which a group of three Frankish ladies had just gone
from her. She could see their white-clad forms, under sunshades, down
there in the hollow, battling ungracefully with the sand for foothold.
With one hand raised as a screen from the declining sun, the mother of
Iskender clenched the other, and shook it down the pathway of those
ladies so that the bracelets of glass tinkled upon her | 1,176.956169 |
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Produced by Don Kretz, Juliet Sutherland, and Distributed Proofreaders
[Illustration]
SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN SUPPLEMENT NO. 447
NEW YORK, JULY 26, 1884
Scientific American Supplement. Vol. XVIII, No. 447.
Scientific American established 1845
Scientific American Supplement, $5 a year.
Scientific American and Supplement, $7 a year.
* * * * *
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
I. CHEMISTRY.--The Bitter Substance of Hops.--By Dr. H. BUNGENER.
--What gives hops their bitter taste?--Processes for obtaining
hop-bitter acid.--Analysis of the same.
II. ENGINEERING AND MECHANICS.--Improvements in the Harbor
of Antwerp.--With engraving of caisson for deepening the
river.
Progress of Antwerp.--Recent works in the harbor.
Bicycles and Tricycles.--By C.V. BOYS.---Advantages of the
different machines.--Manner of finding the steepness of a hill
and representing same on a map.--Experiments on ball bearings.--
The Otto bicycle.
The Canal Iron Works, London.
Marinoni's Rotary Printing Press.--With 2 engravings.
Chenot's Economic Filter Press.--With engraving.
Steel Chains without Welding.--Method and machines for making
same.--Several figures.
III. TECHNOLOGY.--Some Economic Processes connected with the
Cloth Making Industry.--By Dr. WM. RAMSAY.--How to save and
utilize soap used in wool scouring.--To recover the indigo from
the refuse.--Extraction of potash from _suint_.--Use of
bisulphide of carbon.
IV. PHYSICS. ELECTRICITY, ETC.--Thury's Dynamo Electric Machine.
--5 figures.
Breguet's Telephone.
Munro's Telephonic Experiments.--9 figures.
Apparatus for Maneuvering Bichromate of Potassa Piles from a
Distance.--2 figures.
Magnetic Rotations.--By E.L. VOICE.--1 figure.
Lighton's Immersion Illuminator.--1 figure.
Foucault's Pendulum Experiments.--By RICHARD A. PROCTOR.
--4 figures.
V. ARCHITECTURE, ART, ETC.--St. Paul's Vicarage, Forest Hill,
Kent.--2 engravings.
Designs for Iron Gates.--An engraving.
VI. ASTRONOMY.--A New Lunarian.--By Prof. C.W. MACCORD.
--With 3 figures.
VII. GEOLOGY.--Coal and its Uses.--By JAMES PYKE.--Formation
of carboniferous rocks and the coal in the same.--Processes of
nature.--Greatness of this country due to coal.--Manufacture of
gas.--Products of the same.
VIII. NATURAL HISTORY, BOTANY. ETC.--The Wine Fly.--The
egg.--Larva.--Pupa and fly.
The "Potetometer." an Instrument for Measuring the Transpiration
of Water by Plants.--1 figure.
Bolivian Cinchona Forests.
Ferns.--Nephrolepis Davillioides Furcans and Nephrolepis Duffi.
--2 engravings.
IX. PHYSIOLOGY, HYGIENE, ETC.--The Upright Attitude of Mankind.
--Review of a lecture by Dr. S.V. CLEVENGER, in which he
tries to prove that man must have originated from a four footed
being.
Our Enemies, the Microbes.--Affections caused by the same.--
Experiments of Davaine, Pasteur, and others.--How to prevent
bacterides from entering the body.--5 figures.
X. BIOGRAPHY.--Gaston Plante, the Scientist.--With portrait
Warren Colburn, the American Mathematician.
* * * * *
IMPROVEMENTS IN THE HARBOR OF ANTWERP.
The harbor of Antwerp, which, excepting those of London and Liverpool,
is the largest in Europe, has been improved wonderfully during the last
decade. Before 1870 it was inferior to the harbor at Havre, but now it
far surpasses the same. The river Scheldt, which is about 1,500 ft.
wide, was badgered out up to the vertical walls of the basin, so that
the largest ships can land at the docks. The river was deepened by the
use of caissons, in the lower parts of which the workmen operated in
compressed air. The annexed cut shows that part of one of the caissons
which projects above the surface of the water. The depth of the river at
low tide is about 26 ft., and at high tide about 39 ft. Some of the old
sluices, channels, basins, etc., which were rendered useless by the
improvements made in the river Scheldt have been filled up, and
thereby the city has been enriched by several handsome and elegant
squares.--_Illustrirte Zeitung_.
* * * * *
PROGRESS OF ANTWERP.
Antwerp is now the chief port on the Continent. Since 1873 the progress
has continued, and made very rapid advances. In 1883 the tonnage of the
port reached 3,734,428 registered tons. This marvelous development is
partly due to the position of Antwerp as the embarking point from the
Continent of Europe to America, and partly also to the recent additions
and changes which have been carried out there, and which, now nearly
completed, have made this cosmopolitan port one of the best organized in
the world. This is so well known that vessels bound for Switzerland with
a cargo of corn from Russia pass Marseilles and go two thousand miles
out of their way for the purpose of unloading at Antwerp. No other port,
in fact, offers the same facilities. There is not another place in the
world where fifty vessels of 3,000 tons can come alongside as easily as
the penny boats on the Thames run into the landing.
[Illustration: CAISSONS FOR DEEPENING THE RIVER AT ANTWERP.]
Since the opening of the St. Gothard Tunnel nearly all the alimentary
provisions that Italy sends to the British Isles pass through Antwerp.
In 1882 82,000,000 eggs and 30,000 pounds of fruit were shipped there
for England. The greater part of these came from Italy. Antwerp has
become also an important port for emigrants; 35,125 embarked in 1882,
out of which number 3,055 were bound for New York. The city was always
destined, from its topographical position, to be at the head of a very
considerable traffic; political reasons alone for many years prevented
this being the case. These have happily now disappeared, and, since
186 | 1,176.962218 |
2023-11-16 18:36:40.9422020 | 1,155 | 14 |
Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project
Gutenberg (This book was produced from scanned images of
public domain material from the Google Books project.)
THE POPOL VUH
The Mythic and Heroic Sagas of
the Kichés of Central America
By
LEWIS SPENCE
Published by David Nutt, at the
Sign of the Phoenix, Long Acre, London
1908
PREFACE
The "Popol Vuh" is the New World's richest mythological mine. No
translation of it has as yet appeared in English, and no adequate
translation in any European language. It has been neglected to a
certain extent because of the unthinking strictures passed upon
its authenticity. That other manuscripts exist in Guatemala than
the one discovered by Ximenes and transcribed by Scherzer and
Brasseur de Bourbourg is probable. So thought Brinton, and the
present writer shares his belief. And ere it is too late it would
be well that these--the only records of the faith of the builders of
the mystic ruined and deserted cities of Central America--should be
recovered. This is not a matter that should be left to the enterprise
of individuals, but one which should engage the consideration of
interested governments; for what is myth to-day is often history
to-morrow.
LEWIS SPENCE.
July 1908.
THE POPOL VUH
[The numbers in the text refer to notes at the end of the study]
There is no document of greater importance to the study of the
pre-Columbian mythology of America than the "Popol Vuh." It is the
chief source of our knowledge of the mythology of the Kiché people of
Central America, and it is further of considerable comparative value
when studied in conjunction with the mythology of the Nahuatlacâ, or
Mexican peoples. This interesting text, the recovery of which forms one
of the most romantic episodes in the history of American bibliography,
was written by a Christianised native of Guatemala some time in the
seventeenth century, and was copied in the Kiché language, in which
it was originally written, by a monk of the Order of Predicadores, one
Francisco Ximenes, who also added a Spanish translation and scholia.
The Abbé Brasseur de Bourbourg, a profound student of American
archæology and languages (whose euhemeristic interpretations of
the Mexican myths are as worthless as the priceless materials he
unearthed are valuable) deplored, in a letter to the Duc de Valmy,
[1] the supposed loss of the "Popol Vuh," which he was aware had been
made use of early in the nineteenth century by a certain Don Felix
Cabrera. Dr. C. Scherzer, an Austrian scholar, thus made aware of
its value, paid a visit to the Republic of Guatemala in 1854 or 1855,
and was successful in tracing the missing manuscript in the library
of the University of San Carlos in the city of Guatemala. It was
afterwards ascertained that its scholiast, Ximenes, had deposited it
in the library of his convent at Chichicastenango, whence it passed
to the San Carlos library in 1830.
Scherzer at once made a copy of the Spanish translation of the
manuscript, which he published at Vienna in 1856 under the title
of "Las Historias del origen de los Indios de Guatemala, par el
R. P. F. Francisco Ximenes." The Abbé Brasseur also took a copy of
the original, which he published at Paris in 1861, with the title
"Vuh Popol: Le Livre Sacré de Quichés, et les Mythes de l'Antiquité
Américaine." In this work the Kiché original and the Abbe's French
translation are set forth side by side. Unfortunately both the Spanish
and the French translations leave much to be desired so far as their
accuracy is concerned, and they are rendered of little use by reason
of the misleading notes which accompany them.
The name "Popol Vuh" signifies "Record of the Community," and
its literal translation is "Book of the Mat," from the Kiché word
"pop" or "popol," a mat or rug of woven rushes or bark on which the
entire family sat, and "vuh" or "uuh," paper or book, from "uoch"
to write. The "Popol Vuh" is an example of a world-wide genre--a
type of annals of which the first portion is pure mythology, which
gradually shades off into pure history, evolving from the hero-myths
of saga to the recital of the deeds of authentic personages. It may,
in fact, be classed with the Heimskringla of Snorre, the Danish
History of Saxo-Grammaticus, the Chinese History in the Five Books,
the Japanese "Nihongi," and, so far as its fourth book is concerned,
it somewhat resembles the Pictish Chronicle.
The language in which the "Popol Vuh" was written, was, as has been
said, the Kiché, a | 1,176.962242 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Flamsted Quarries
BY MARY E. WALLER
Author of "The Wood Carver of Lympus," "The Daughter of the Rich," "The
Little Citizen," etc.
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
BY G. PATRICK NELSON
A. L. BURT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1910_,
BY MARY E. WALLER
Published September, 1910
Reprinted, September, 1910; November, 1910; December, 1910
TO THOSE WHO TOIL
[Illustration: "She sang straight on, verse after verse without pause"]
Contents
THE BATTERY IN LIEU OF A PREFACE
PART FIRST, A CHILD FROM THE VAUDEVILLE
PART SECOND, HOME SOIL
PART THIRD, IN THE STREAM
PART FOURTH, OBLIVION
PART FIFTH, SHED NUMBER TWO
THE LAST WORD
Illustrations
"She sang straight on, verse after verse without pause"
"Those present loved in after years to recall this scene"
"What a picture she made leaning caressingly against the charmed and
patient Bess"
"'Unworthy--unworthy!' was Champney Googe's cry, as he knelt before
Aileen"
FLAMSTED QUARRIES
"_Abysmal deeps repose
Beneath the stout ship's keel whereon we glide;
And if a diver plunge far down within
Those depths and to the surface safe return,
His smile, if so it chance he smile again,
Outweighs in worth all gold._"
The Battery in Lieu of a Preface
A few years ago, at the very tip of that narrow rocky strip of land that
has been well named "the Tongue that laps the Commerce of the World,"
the million-teeming Island of Manhattan, there was daily presented a
scene in the life-drama of our land that held in itself, as in solution,
a great national ideal. The old heroic "Epic of the Nations" was still
visible to the naked eye, and masquerading here among us of the then
nineteenth century in the guise of the arrival of the immigrant ship.
The scenic setting is in this instance incomparably fine. As we lean on
the coping of the sea wall at the end of the green-swarded Battery, in
the flush of a May sunset that, on the right, throws the Highlands of
the Navesink into dark purple relief and lights the waters of Harbor,
River, and Sound into a softly swelling roseate flood, we may fix our
eyes on the approach to The Narrows and watch the incoming shipping of
the world: the fruit-laden steamer from the Bermudas, the black East
Indiaman heavy with teakwood and spices, the lumberman's barge awash
behind the tow, the old three-masted schooner, low in the water, her
decks loaded with granite from the far-away quarries of Maine. We may
see, if we linger, the swift approach of a curiously foreshortened
ocean steamship, her smokestack belching blackness, and the slower
on-coming of a Norwegian bark, her sails catching the sunset light and
gleaming opaline against the clear blue of the southern horizon. These
last are the immigrant ships.
An hour later in old Castle Garden the North and South of Europe clasp
hands on the very threshold of America. Four thousand feet are planted
on the soil of the New World. Four thousand hands are knocking at its
portals. Two thousand hearts are beating high with hope at prospect of
the New, or palpitating with terror at contact with the Strange.
A thousand tragedies, a thousand comedies are here enacted before our
very eyes: hopes, fears, tears, laughter, shrieks, groans, wailings,
exultant cries, welcoming words, silent all-expressing hand-clasp,
embrace, despairing wide-eyed search, hopeless isolation, the
befriended, the friendless, the home-welcomed, the homeless--all
commingled.
But an official routine soon sorts, separates, pairs, locates; speaks in
Norwegian, speaks in Neapolitan. An hour passes; the dusk falls; the
doors | 1,176.997797 |
2023-11-16 18:36:41.0369830 | 3,495 | 10 |
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(http://archive.org/details/americana)
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See 41828-h.htm or 41828-h.zip:
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http://archive.org/details/generalbounceorl00whyt
GENERAL BOUNCE
[Illustration: "'Where have you been all day? You promised to
drive me out--you know you did!'"
_Page 77_]
GENERAL BOUNCE
or
The Lady and the Locusts
by
G. J. WHYTE-MELVILLE
Author of "Katerfelto," "The Interpreter," "Market Harborough," etc.
Illustrated by Frances E. Ewan
London
Ward, Lock & Co., Limited
New York and Melbourne
PREFACE
Where the rose blushes in the garden, there will the bee and the
butterfly be found, humming and fluttering around. So is it in the
world; the fair girl, whose sweetness is enhanced by the fictitious
advantages of wealth and position, will ever have lovers and admirers
enough and to spare.
Burns was no bad judge of human nature; and he has a stanza on this
subject, combining the reflection of the philosopher with the _canny_
discrimination of the Scot.
"Away with your follies of beauty's alarms,
The _slender_ bit beauty you clasp in your arms;
But gi'e me the lass that has acres of charms,
Oh, gi'e me the lass with the _weel-plenished_ farms."
Should the following pages afford such attractive young ladies matter
for a few moments' reflection, the author will not have written in
vain.
May he hope they will choose well and wisely; and that the withered
rose, when she has lost her fragrance, may be fondly prized and gently
tended by the hand that plucked her in her dewy morning prime.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. My Cousin 9
II. The Abigail 26
III. The Handsome Governess 41
IV. "Libitina" 58
V. Uncle Baldwin 72
VI. The Blind Boy 85
VII. Boot and Saddle 101
VIII. The Ball 116
IX. Want 130
X. Superfluity 146
XI. Campaigning Abroad 161
XII. Campaigning at Home 177
XIII. The World 194
XIV. To Persons about to Marry 204
XV. Penelope and her Suitors 212
XVI. Forgery 225
XVII. Club Law 236
XVIII. The Strictest Confidence 247
XIX. Dispatches 259
XX. Dawn in the East 276
XXI. Hospital 292
XXII. The Widow 303
XXIII. "Stop her" 309
XXIV. King Crack 323
XXV. "Dulce Domum" 333
XXVI. "Eudaemon" 347
XXVII. Flood and Field 360
XXVIII. "The Sad Sea Wave" 374
GENERAL BOUNCE
_OR, THE LADY AND THE LOCUSTS_
CHAPTER I
MY COUSIN
AN ENGLISHMAN'S HOLIDAY--ST. SWITHIN'S IN A CALM--THE
MERCHANT'S AMBITION--"MON BEAU COUSIN"--CASTLES IN THE AIR--A
LIVELY CRAFT--"HAIRBLOWER" AND HIS COLD BATH
Much as we think of ourselves, and with all our boasted civilisation,
we Anglo-Saxons are but a half-barbarian race after all. Nomadic,
decidedly nomadic in our tastes, feelings, and pursuits, it is but the
moisture of our climate that keeps us in our own houses at all, and
like our Scandinavian ancestors (for in turf parlance we have several
crosses of the old Norse blood in our veins), we delight
periodically--that is, whenever we have a fortnight's dry weather--to
migrate from our dwellings, and peopling the whole of our own
sea-board, push our invading hordes over the greater part of Europe,
nor refrain from thrusting our outposts even into the heart of Asia,
till the astonished Mussulman, aghast at our vagaries, strokes his
placid beard, and with a blessing on his Prophet that he is not as we
are, soothes his disgust with a sentiment, so often repeated that in
the East it has become a proverb--viz. that "There is one devil, and
there are many devils; but there is _no_ devil like a Frank in a round
hat!"
It was but last autumn that, stepping painfully into our tailor's
shop--for, alas! a course of London dinners cannot be persisted in,
season after season, without producing a decided tendency to gout in
the extremities--hobbling, then, into our tailor's warehouse, as he
calls it, we were measured by an unfledged jackanapes, whose voice we
had previously heard warning his brother fractions that "an old gent
was a waitin' inside," instead of that spruce foreman who, for more
years than it is necessary to specify, has known our girth to an inch,
and our weight to a pound. Fearful that in place of the grave habit of
broadcloth which we affect as most suitable to our age and manner, we
might find ourselves equipped in one of the many grotesque disguises
in which young gentlemen now-a-days deem it becoming to hide
themselves, and described by the jackanapes, aforesaid, who stepped
round us in ill-concealed admiration of our corpulence, as "a walking
coat, a riding coat, a smoking coat, or a coat _to go to the stable
in_!" we ventured to inquire for "the person we usually saw," and were
informed that "the gent as waited on us last year had gone for a few
months' holiday to the Heast." Heavens and earth, Mr. Bobstitch was
even then in Syria! What a Scandinavian! rather degenerate to be sure
in size and ferocity--though Bobstitch, being a little man, is
probably very terrible when roused--but yet no slight contrast to one
of those gaunt, grim, russet-bearded giants that made the despot of
the Lower Empire quake upon his throne. And yet Bobstitch was but
obeying the instinct which he inherits from the sea-kings his
ancestors, an instinct which in less adventurous souls than a tailor's
fills our watering-places to overflowing, and pours the wealth, while
it introduces the manners, of the capital into every bight and bay
that indents the shores of Britain.
Doubtless the citizens are right. Let us, while we are in Scandinavian
vein, make use of an old Norse metaphor, and pressing into our service
the two Ravens of Odin, named Mind and Will, with these annihilate
time and space, so as to be, like the Irish orator's bird, "in two
places at once." Let us first of all take a retrospective glance at
Mrs. Kettering's house in Grosvenor Square, one of the best houses, by
the way, to be had in London for love or money. We recollect it well,
not so many years ago, lit up for one of those great solemnities which
novelists call "a rout," but which people in real life, equally
martially as well as metaphorically, designate "a drum." To us
creeping home along the pavement outside the _fete_, it seemed the
realisation of fairyland. Row upon row, glaring carriage-lamps, like
the fabulous monsters keeping watch, illuminated the square and
adjoining streets, even to the public-house round the corner, that
night driving a highly remunerative trade; whilst on a nearer
inspection magnificent horses (horses, like ladies, look most
beautiful by candle-light), gorgeous carriages--none of your Broughams
and Clarences, but large, roomy, well-hung family coaches, with
cartoons of heraldry on the panels--gigantic footmen, and fat
coachmen, struck the beholder with admiration not totally unmixed with
awe. Then the awning that was to admit the privileged to the inner
realms of this earthly paradise, of which the uninitiated might know
but the exterior; what a gauzy, gaudy transparency it was, no
unfitting portal to that upper storey, from which the golden light was
hardly veiled by jalousies and window-blinds. Ever and anon, much
lashing of bay, brown, or chestnut sufferers, and the interference of
a tall policeman, with a hat made on purpose to be assaulted by
bludgeons, betokened the arrival of a fresh party, and angelic beings
in white robes, with glossy hair, tripped daintily up the steps over a
cloth, not of gold exactly, but of horse-hair, amongst a phalanx of
unwashed faces, gazing half enviously at such loveliness in full
dress. How beautiful we used to think these apparitions as we plodded
home to our quiet chambers! but young Bareface, our connecting link
with the great world, who goes to all the _best_ places, through the
influence of his aunt, Lady Champfront, assures us they don't look
half so beautiful inside, and that he sees quite as pretty faces, and
hair quite as nicely done, at the little gatherings in Russell Square
and Bloomsbury, to which even we might go if we liked. A radical dog!
we don't believe a word of it. Never mind, let us look at that house
in the dead time of year. Without and within, from attics to basement,
from the balcony facing the square to the empty bird-cage overlooking
a precipice of offices at the back, Repose and Ennui reign supreme.
Were it not for the knocking of the workmen next door, we might as
well be in the Great Desert. There _is_, we presume, a woman in
possession, but she has gone to "get the beer," and if you have ever
sighed for a town-house, now is the time to be satisfied with your
rustic lot, and to hug yourself that you are not paying ground-rent
and taxes, church-rate, poor's-rate, and water-rate, drainage,
lighting, and paving, for that ghastly palace of soot and cobwebs,
dust, dreariness, and decay. There is a scaffolding up in every third
house in the square; and workmen in paper caps, with foot-rules
sticking out of their fustian trousers, and complexions ingrained with
lime-dust, and guiltless of fresh water, seem to be the only
inhabitants of this deserted region, and even they are "between earth
and heaven." Brown and parched are the unfortunate shrubs in those
gardens of which discontented householders "round the corner" covet so
to possess a key; and the very birds, sparrows, every feather of 'em,
hop about in dirty suits of plumage that can only be described as of
that colour unknown to naturalists, which other people call "grimy."
Who would be in London in the autumn? Not Mrs. Kettering, certainly,
if she might be elsewhere; and although she had possessed this
excellent and commodious family mansion, with all its boudoirs,
retreats, and appurtenances, so well described in the advertisement,
but a short time, and was not the giver of that "reunion of
fashionables" we have depicted above (indeed, the hostess of that
evening has since been economising up two pair of stairs at Antwerp);
yet Mrs. Kettering having plenty of money, and being able to do what
she liked, had wisely moved herself, her fancies, her imperials, and
her family to the coast, where, obeying the instinct for freedom that
has driven Bobstitch to the desert, she was idly inhaling the salt
breezes of the Channel, and dazzling her eyes with the sun-glint that
sparkled over its dancing waves.
Some few years have elapsed since the events took place which we shall
endeavour to describe; but the white cliffs of our island change
little with the lapse of time, though the sea does make its
encroachments ever and anon when the wind has been blowing pretty
steady from the south-west for a fortnight or so, and the same scene
may be witnessed any fine day towards the middle of August as that
which we are about to contrast with the dulness, closeness, and
confinement of the great town-house in Grosvenor Square.
First, we must imagine a real summer's day, such a day as in our
island we seldom enjoy till summer has well-nigh given place to
autumn, but which, when it does come, is worth waiting for. Talk of
climate! a real fine day in England, like a really handsome
Englishwoman, beats creation. Well, we must imagine one of these
bright, hot, hay-making days, almost too warm and dusty ashore, but
enjoyable beyond conception on the calm and oily waves, unruffled by
the breeze, and literally as smooth as glass. A sea-bird occasionally
dips her wing on the surface, and then flaps lazily away, as if she
too was as much inclined to go to sleep as yonder moveless fleet of
lugger, brig, bark, and schooner, with their empty sails, and their
heads all round the compass. There is a warm haze towards the land,
and the white houses of St. Swithin's seem to glow and sparkle in the
heat, whilst to seaward a modified sort of mirage would make one fancy
one could plainly distinguish the distant coast of France.
Ashore, in those great houses, people are panting, and gasping, and
creating thorough draughts that fill their rooms with a small white
dust of a destructive tendency to all personal property. The children
up-stairs are running about in linen under-garments, somewhat more
troublesome than usual, with a settled flush on their little
peach-like cheeks, and the shining streets are deserted, save by the
perspiring pot-boy, and the fly-men drinking beer in their shirt
sleeves. Only afloat is there a chance of being cool; and
sailing-boat, gig, dinghy, and cobble, all are in requisition for the
throng of amateur mariners, rushing like ducklings to the refreshing
element.
It was on just such a day as this that Mrs. Kettering found it
extremely difficult to "trim the boat." A mile or so from the shore,
that boat was slowly progressing, impelled by the unequal strength of
her nephew Charles, commonly called "Cousin Charlie," and its worthy
proprietor, a fine specimen of the genus "seaman," who certainly had
a Christian name, and probably a patronymic, but had sunk both
distinctions under the sobriquet | 1,177.057023 |
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text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
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_Volume 13, Number 18._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO.
_March 6, 1886._
THE <DW29>
[Illustration: THE HAMLIN NURSERY.]
THE HAMLIN NURSERY.
THE little Hamlins were all down with the scarlet fever; and when we
say the Little Hamlins, we mean Lucy, Cathie, Harry, Bertie, and the
baby; five of them! It was a hard time in the Hamlin nursery, both for
the children and the older people. Though Mrs. Hamlin had a nurse from
the training school, besides the children's regular attendant, she was
quite worn out with the care and anxiety.
"The very last Sabbath I was in church," said she to Doctor Wheeler,
"Mr. Lewis said in his sermon, that even our afflictions had a blessing
wrapped up in them. But I do not believe there is one inside this
trouble. I can't conceive of any good that can possibly come out of it
all!"
"Well, I don't know," replied Doctor Wheeler, "I should never have
conceived of anything like that statue, yet it was inside the marble
all the time, and plainly discerned by the eye of the sculptor. There
are things in the spiritual world which we cannot conceive until they
are revealed to us."
Poor Mrs. Hamlin shook her head doubtfully. She was very sure no good
could grow out of this trial. Doctor Wheeler was a sweet-voiced little
woman who looked upon the bright side of things and whom the children
loved; they were very sorry for their little friend across the street
who had the fever and whose father insisted upon sending for that gruff
old Doctor Smith, who never had a smile for children.
"Your children have good constitutions and you have good nurses, I see
no reason why they should not pull through easily," said Doctor Wheeler
when Mr. Hamlin asked her opinion as to the prospects of the recovery
of his little folks. "But what about that oldest boy of yours? Does he
not have an Easter vacation?"
"Yes; and I suppose he ought not to come home?"
"Most certainly not! It will not be safe for several weeks; he must
be kept away from this vicinity, though I hope the disease will not
spread. You should send word for him to remain at the school through
the vacation."
It was a very sober face indeed that presented itself at Doctor Brown's
study door, a day or two after this conversation took place.
Doctor Brown was the principal of Howland Hall School for boys, and was
the right man in the right place.
"What is it, Fred?" he asked kindly. "Come in and let me hear about it."
"It is this," replied Fred Hamlin, handing the Doctor his father's
letter.
"Ah! Well, my boy, it might be worse news. You understand, the little
folks at home are all on the high road to recovery, and it is on your
account that you are not to go home."
"I know; but it will be dreadful lonesome here with the boys all away."
"That is so; and what will make it worse is, that we have planned
a little trip which will take us all away excepting Mr. and Mrs.
Jennings. I am afraid it will be rather doleful for you alone in this
great house; but that will be better than the scarlet fever. Eh?"
Fred turned away in a very disconsolate frame of mind. The Easter
vacation to which he had been looking forward was likely to be anything
but pleasant. Now Fred Hamlin was by no means a model boy, and matters
did not always go smoothly with him at home. His own mother died when
he was a baby, and his grandmother had taken charge of him until Fred
was ten years old. Then she too died, and the boy was taken home by
his father. The second mother tried earnestly to win the boy's heart,
but seeds of suspicion and jealousy had been dropped into the young
mind, and he refused to be won. After three years of trial Mr. Hamlin
concluded to send Fred to school. Doctor Brown had the reputation of
being a strict disciplinarian, and Mr. Hamlin hoped much as a result
of school discipline. But Watt Vinton, Fred's room-mate, knew very
well that any such expectations were not likely to be realized. I
cannot tell you of all the ways in which Fred contrived to make himself
disagreeable to his quiet and gentlemanly companion. But so well did
he succeed, that Watt, sometimes, with his face buried in the pillow,
would whisper just to himself, "He is the hatefulest, meanest, crossest
fellow I ever saw! I don't believe he has a particle of respect or love
for anybody on earth!" Now perhaps you will almost doubt me when I
tell you that the pillow was Watt's only confident. He never breathed
a word of his troubles to a single person. There were several reasons
for this reticence. Watt was an orphan, and had learned to keep his
troubles to himself. He was too proud to complain; he had a notion that
it would be more manly to endure annoyances than to make a fuss over
them. It was only when he got out of patience that he took his troubles
to his friend the pillow. This will explain why Watt Vinton frowned a
little over a letter which he received a few days before the Easter
vacation, and why he carried it in his pocket a whole day before coming
to a decision in regard to one of its propositions. The letter was from
his cousin, May Vinton, and here is one sentence from it: "Now that it
is settled that you are to spend your vacation here, would you like to
bring a boy with you? If there is somebody who cannot go home, or who
needs a chance, whom you would like to bring, you may invite him to be
your guest for the week."
It took Watt a whole day to make up his mind that he could do it. But
at the end of the twenty-four hours he wrote to his cousin, "I am going
to bring my chum."
Well, what came of it all--the scarlet fever, Mrs. Hamlin's trouble,
Fred's disappointment, and Watt's sacrifice?
Do you suppose God knew that May Vinton could reach that wayward boy's
heart, and help him to a better life, and so planned all this to
bring about the meeting? Do you not suppose that he knew that Watt's
sacrifice | 1,177.057876 |
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DANTE
THE VISION OF DANTE
A STORY FOR LITTLE CHILDREN AND A TALK TO
THEIR MOTHERS
BY
ELIZABETH HARRISON
SECOND EDITION
ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE
PUBLISHED BY THE CHICAGO KINDERGARTEN COLLEGE
ART INSTITUTE BUILDING, CHICAGO, ILL.
1894
COPYRIGHTED
BY ELIZABETH HARRISON
1892
The Lakeside Press
R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS CO., CHICAGO
_PREFACE._
_Is not the reason why the Divine Comedy is called a “world poem” to be
found in these significant facts: it portrays the sudden awakening of a
human soul to the consciousness of having gone astray; it shows the
loathsome nature of sin; it pictures the struggle necessary to be freed
from sin; it emphasizes that God is ready to help as soon as the soul is
ready to be helped; and at last it declares that the Vision of God will
come to the soul which perseveres in the struggle? These are the
essential truths which make the great poem of Dante one of the
masterpieces of the world of art. May not it--as well as all other truly
great things--be given to little children in a simple way?_
THE VISION OF DANTE.
I want to tell a wonderful story to you, dear children. It has been told
over and over again for six hundred years, yet people keep reading it,
and re-reading it, and wise men never tire of studying it. Many great
artists have painted pictures, and sculptors have made statues, and
musicians have composed operas, and clergymen have written sermons from
thoughts inspired by it. A great poet first gave it to the world in the
form of a grand poem which some day you may read, but I will try to tell
it to you to-day as a short story. I am afraid that you would go to
sleep if I should undertake to read the poem to you. You do not yet know
enough about life to understand it.
Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a man whose name was Dante.
He had done wrong and had wandered a long way from his home. He does not
tell us how or why. He begins by saying that he had gone to sleep in a
great forest. Suddenly he awoke, and tried to find his way out of | 1,177.157089 |
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Journals.)
BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
NO. CCCCVII. SEPTEMBER, 1849. VOL. LXVI.
CONTENTS | 1,177.173364 |
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[Illustration:
_To the_
LOVERS OF HOME
_THIS_
Little Manual
OF
AMUSING PHENOMENA
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LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS SHOEMAKERS.
BY
WILLIAM EDWARD WINKS.
NEW YORK:
FUNK & WAGNALLS, PUBLISHERS,
10 AND 12 DEY STREET.
PREFACE.
Time out of mind _The Gentle Craft_ has been invested with an air of
romance. This honorable title, given to no other occupation but that of
shoemakers, is an indication of the high esteem in which the Craft is
held. It is by no means an easy thing to account for a sentiment of this
kind, or to trace such a title to its original source. Whether the
traditionary stories which have clustered round the lives of Saints
Anianus, Crispin and Crispianus, or Hugh and Winifred, gave rise to the
sentiment, or the sentiment itself is to be regarded as accounting for
the traditions, one cannot tell. Probably there is some truth in both
theories, for sentiment and tradition act and react on each other.
Certain it is, that among all our craftsmen none appear to enjoy a
popularity comparable with that of "the old Cobbler" or "Shoemaker."
Most men have a good word to say for him, a joke to crack about him, or
a story to tell of his ability and "learning," his skill in argument, or
his prominence and influence in political or religious affairs. Both in
ancient times and in modern, in the Old World and in the New, a rare
interest has been felt in Shoemakers, as a class, on account of their
remarkable intelligence and the large number of eminent men who have
risen from their ranks.
These facts, and especially the last--which has been the subject of
frequent remark--may be deemed sufficient justification for the
existence of such a work as this.
Another reason might be given for the issue of such a book as this just
now. A change has come over the craft of boot and shoe making. The use
of machinery has effected nothing short of a _revolution_ in the trade.
The old-fashioned Shoemaker, with his leathern apron and hands redolent
of wax, has almost disappeared from the workrooms and streets of such
towns as Northampton and Stafford in Old England, or Lynn in New
England. His place and function are now, for the most part, occupied by
the "cutter" and the "clicker," the "riveter" and the "machine-girl."
The old Cobbler, like the ancient spinster and handloom weaver, is
retiring into the shade of the boot and shoe factory. Whether or no he
will disappear entirely may be questionable; but there can be no doubt
that the Cobbler, sitting at his stall and working with awl and hammer
and last, will never again be the conspicuous figure in social life that
he was wont to be in times gone by. Before we bid him a final farewell,
and forget the traditions of his humble yet honorable craft, it may be
of some service to bring under one review the names and histories of
some of the more illustrious members of his order.
Long as is the list of these worthy "Sons of Crispin," it cannot be said
to be complete. Only a few examples are taken from Germany, France, and
the United States, where, in all probability, as many illustrious
Shoemakers might have been met with as in Great Britain itself. And even
the British muster-roll is not fully made up. With only a few
exceptions, _living men_ are not included in the list. Very gladly would
the writer have added to these exceptions so remarkable a man as Thomas
Edward, the shoemaker of Banff, one of the best self-taught naturalists
of our time, and, for the last sixteen years, an Associate of the
Linnaean Society. But for the Life of this eminent Scotchman the reader
must be referred to the interesting biography written by his friend Dr.
Smiles.
In writing the longer sketches, free and ample use has been made of
biographies already in existence. But this has not been done without the
kind consent of the owners of copyrights. To these the writer tenders
his grateful acknowledgments. To the widow of the Rev. T. W. Blanshard
he is indebted for permission to draw upon the pages of her late
husband's valuable biography of "The Wesleyan Demosthenes," _Samuel
Bradburn_; to Jacob Halls Drew, Esq., Bath, for his courtesy in allowing
a liberal use to be made of the facts given in his biography of his
father, _Samuel Drew_, "The Self-Taught Cornishman;" and to the
venerable _Thomas Cooper_, as well as to his publishers, Messrs. Hodder
& Stoughton, for their kind favor in regard to the lengthy and detailed
sketch of the author of "The Purgatory of Suicides." This sketch, the
longest in the book, is inserted by special permission of Messrs. Hodder
& Stoughton.
The minor sketches have been drawn from a variety of sources. One or two
of these require special mention. In preparing the notice of John
O'Neill, the Poet of Temperance, the writer has received kind help from
_Mr. Richard Gooch_ of Brighton, himself a poet of temperance. Messrs.
_J. & J. H. Rutherford_ of Kelso have also been good enough to place at
the writer's service--but, unfortunately, too late to be of much use--a
copy of their recently published autobiography of John Younger, the
Shoemaker of St. Boswells. In the all-too-brief section devoted to
American worthies, valuable aid has been given to the author by Henry
Phillips, Esq., jun., A.M., Ph.D., Corresponding Member of the
Antiquarian Society of Philadelphia, U.S.A.
In all probability the reader has never been introduced to so large a
company of illustrious Sons of Crispin before. It is sincerely hoped
that he will derive both pleasure and profit from their society.
WILLIAM EDWARD WINKS.
CARDIFF, 1882.
CONTENTS.
PREFACE
CHAPTER I.
Sir Cloudesley Shovel: The Cobbler's Boy who became an Admiral
CHAPTER II.
James Lackington: Shoemaker and Bookseller
CHAPTER III.
Samuel Bradburn: The Shoemaker who became President of the Wesleyan
Conference
CHAPTER IV.
William Gifford: From the Shoemaker's Stool to the Editor's Chair
CHAPTER V.
Robert Bloomfield: The Shoemaker who wrote "The Farmer's Boy"
CHAPTER VI.
Samuel Drew: The Metaphysical Shoemaker
CHAPTER VII.
William Carey: The Shoemaker who Translated the Bible into Bengali
and Hindostani
CHAPTER VIII.
John Pounds: The Philanthropic Shoemaker
CHAPTER IX.
Thomas Cooper: The Self-educated Shoemaker who "Reared his own
Monument"
CHAPTER X.
A Constellation of Celebrated Cobblers
ANCIENT EXAMPLES.
The Cobbler and the Artist Apelles
The Shoemaker Bishops: Annianas, Bishop of Alexandria, and
Alexander, Bishop of Comana
The Pious Cobbler of Alexandria
"Rabbi Jochanan, The Shoemaker"
EUROPEAN EXAMPLES: _France_.
SS. Crispin and Crispianus: The Patron Saints of Shoemakers
"The Learned Baudouin"
Henry Michael Buch: "Good Henry"
_Germany._
Hans Sachs: "The Nightingale of the Reformation"
Jacob Boehmen: The Mystic
_Italy._
Gabriel Cappellini: "il Caligarino"
Francesco Brizzio: The Artist
_Holland._
Ludolph de Jong: The Portrait-Painter
Sons of Shoemakers
GREAT BRITAIN.
"Ye Cocke of Westminster"
Timothy Bennett: The Hero of Hampton-Wick
_Military and Naval Heroes._
The Souters of Selkirk
Watt Tinlinn
Colonel Hewson: The "Cerdon" of Hudibras
Sir Christopher Myngs, Admiral
_Astrologers and others._
Dr. Partridge
Dr. Ebenezer Sibly, F.R.C.P. 222
Manoah Sibly, Short-hand Writer, Preacher, etc
Mackey, "the Learned Shoemaker" of Norwich, and two other Learned
Shoemakers
Anthony Purver, Bible Revisionist
_The Poets of the Cobbler's Stall._
James Woodhouse, the Friend of Shenstone
John Bennet, Parish Clerk and Poet
Richard Savage, the Friend of Pope
Thomas Olivers, Hymn-Writer
Thomas Holcroft, Dramatist, Novelist
Joseph Blacket, "The Son of Sorrow"
David Service and other Songsters of the Shoemaker's Stall
John Struthers, Poet and Editor
John O'Neill, the Poet of Temperance
John Younger, Fly-Fisher and Corn-Law Rhymer
Charles Crocker, "The Poor Cobbler of Chichester"
_Preachers and Theologians._
George Fox, Founder of the Society of Friends
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YOUNG KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
THEIR CODE AND FURTHER SCOUT YARNS
BY
SIR ROBERT BADEN-POWELL K.C.B., K.C.V.O., LL.D.
AUTHOR OF "SCOUTING FOR BOYS," "YARNS FOR BOY SCOUTS," "SCOUTING
GAMES," "MY ADVENTURES AS A SPY," ETC.
1917
FOREWORD
TO BOY-MEN,--
In offering this collection of yarns, I do not suggest that these are
anything more than further illustrations of the steps already schemed
in _Scouting for Boys_ for self-education in character and good
citizenship.
But illustrations by themselves are of comparatively little value
unless the theories and ideas conveyed by them are also put into
actual and habitual practice.
It is in this that the boy needs your encouragement.
ROBERT BADEN-POWELL
YOUNG KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
THE SCOUT LAW
Perhaps you wonder what is a Young Knight of the Empire.
Well, you know what a knight is--or rather, used to be in the old
days--a gallant fellow who was always ready to defend weaker people
when they were being bullied; he was brave and honourable, and ready
to risk his life in doing his duty according to the code or law of
Chivalry.
Well, nowadays there are thousands of boys all over the British Empire
carrying out the same idea, and making themselves into fine, reliable
men, ready to take the place of those who have gone away to fight and
who have fallen at the Front. These are the Boy Scouts. Their code is
the Scout Law--that is, a set of ten rules which they carry out in
their daily life.
I will explain these Laws, and will give you some other yarns of camp
life and adventure such as the Scouts go in for.
HONOUR
Law 1. A SCOUT'S HONOUR IS TO BE TRUSTED.
_If a Scout says "On my honour it is so," that means it is so, just
as if he had taken a most solemn oath._
_Similarly if a Scout officer says to a Scout, "I trust you on your
honour to do this," the Scout is bound to carry out the order to the
very best of his ability, and to let nothing interfere with his doing
so._
_If a Scout were to break his honour by telling_ a lie, or_ by
not carrying out an order exactly when trusted on his honour to do so,
he may be directed to hand over his Scout badge and never wear it
again. He may also be directed to cease to be a Scout._
People of a civilised country, just like boys in a school, are bound
to conduct themselves in a proper manner, because of the law which
causes them to be punished if they misbehave. There is a code of laws
drawn up for this purpose.
But there is another kind of law which binds people just as much as
their written laws, though this one is neither written nor published.
This unwritten law is Honour.
A boy who has clambered over the school wall to go out of bounds and
smoke secretly has committed an offence against the published law of
the school. If next day the master asks in school, "Who has broken out
of bounds?" the boy is not bound by the law to confess that he did; he
can remain silent and thus escape punishment; but he is a
poor-spirited creature if he does so, and has no sense of honour. If
he is honourable he will manfully and honestly tell the master that he
broke out and will stand whatever punishment comes of it. By so doing
he will have proved to the master and to the other boys that he is
manly and not afraid to tell the truth, and is to be relied upon
because he puts his honour before all.
So the first training that the Boy Scout gets is to understand that
Honour is his own private law which is guided by his conscience, and
that once he is a Scout he must be guided in all his doings by his
sense of Honour.
LOYALTY
Law 2. A SCOUT IS LOYAL to the King, and to his officers, and to his
parents, his Country, his employers, and to those under his orders. He
must stick to them through thick and thin against anyone who is their
enemy or who even talks badly of them.
There was a Scoutmaster in the East End of London who when the war
broke out felt it his duty to give up the splendid work he was doing
amongst the poor boys of the East End in order to take up service for
his Country.
Scoutmaster Lukis--for that is his name--felt bound, by his sense of
loyalty to his King and his Country, to give up the life he was then
living and face the dangers of soldiering on active service.
But the example which he set in loyalty was promptly followed by some
eighty young fellows who were his Scouts or Old Scouts.
Their loyalty to him made them wish to follow their leader wherever
his duty led him. So they became soldiers like himself and all went
together to the Front.
A day came when the trenches which they were holding were heavily
shelled. The danger was great and the losses were heavy, and finally a
piece of shrapnel struck Captain Lukis in the leg and shattered his
thigh. Two of his East London Boy Scout's sprang to his assistance and
tended him with devoted care. They waited for a lull in the firing and
finally between them they carried him, although exposed to a deadly
fire, to a place of safety. While so doing one of them was hit and
severely wounded.
But the spirit of the lads was splendid. They cared nothing for their
own safety so that they got their beloved Scoutmaster out of danger.
That was loyalty.
Loyalty means faithfulness. Your dog is faithful to you and sticks to
you even though you may beat him. He overlooks your faults and your
unkindness and remains loyal to you.
Loyalty begins at home.
Some boys are always thinking that their parents are wrong or unfair
to them. If you think that your parents have any faults, don't look at
those faults. Be loyal to your parents; remember only that it is
thanks to them that you are alive and able to be a Scout.
Obey your parents, believe in them, and respect them; if you can at
any time help them, do so. By doing these things you are being loyal
to them. By being loyal to them you are carrying out that commandment
of the Bible which says: "Honour thy father and thy mother." Be loyal,
also, in the same way-by obeying and thinking no evil and by backing
them up-to your Patrol-leader, your Scoutmaster, and your
schoolmaster. If you are a working boy carry out the same idea towards
your foreman, your manager, and your employer.
On taking up your work, you have agreed to do a certain amount for a
certain wage, and it is loyalty on your part then to stick to that
agreement and to give good work in return for your pay.
If, on the other hand, you are a well-to-do boy and come to have a
servant or a man working under you as you grow older, you should
equally be loyal to him. Remember that in taking him on you expect a
certain amount of work from him for the money you give him; if you
find that he gives you more work than you agreed for, you will be
acting loyally to him if you then increase his wage: but never go back
on your agreement, and do not try to make more money out of him than
you meant to do when first making the contract. So, too, if you are a
Patrol or other leader, and if those under you get into trouble
through carrying out your ideas, be loyal to them; own up that it was
through your fault that they did wrong.
Whatever line of life you may be in, be loyal to God, to your King,
and to your Country.
* * * * *
ANTARCTIC SCOUTING.
All Boy Scouts know of Sir Ernest Shackleton, a brother peace-scout of
the Empire--and a first-class one, too | 1,177.36099 |
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THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS AND OTHER PAPERS
By THOMAS DE QUINCEY, AUTHOR OF
_'CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM-EATER,' ETC. ETC._
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
CONTENTS
SECESSION FROM THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND
TOILETTE OF THE HEBREW LADY
MILTON
CHARLEMAGNE
MODERN GREECE
LORD CARLISLE ON POPE
SECESSION FROM THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND.
[1844.]
A great revolution has taken place in Scotland. A greater has been
threatened. Nor is that danger even yet certainly gone by. Upon the
accidents of such events as may arise for the next five years, whether
fitted or not fitted to revive discussions in which many of the
Non-seceders went in various degrees along with the Seceders, depends
the final (and, in a strict sense, the very awful) question, What is
to be the fate of the Scottish church? Lord Aberdeen's Act is well
qualified to tranquillize the agitations of that body; and at an earlier
stage, if not intercepted by Lord Melbourne, might have prevented them
in part. But Lord Aberdeen has no power to stifle a conflagration once
thoroughly kindled. That must depend in a great degree upon the
favorable aspect of events yet in the rear.
Meantime these great disturbances are not understood in England; and
chiefly from the differences between the two nations as to the language
of their several churches and law courts. The process of ordination
and induction is totally different under the different ecclesiastical
administrations of the two kingdoms. And the church courts of Scotland
do not exist in England. We write, therefore, with an express view to
the better information of England proper. And, with this purpose, we
shall lead the discussion through four capital questions:--
I. _What_ is it that has been done by the moving party?
II. _How_ was it done? By what agencies and influence?
III. What were the _immediate results_ of these acts?
IV. What are the _remote results_ yet to be apprehended?
I. First, then, WHAT _is it that has been done?_ Up to the month of
May in 1834, the fathers and brothers of the 'Kirk' were in harmony
as great as humanity can hope to see. Since May, 1834, the church has
been a fierce crater of volcanic agencies, throwing out of her bosom
one-third of her children; and these children are no sooner born into
their earthly atmosphere, than they turn, with unnatural passions, to
the destruction of their brethren. What can be the grounds upon which
an _acharnement_ so deadly has arisen?
It will read to the ears of a stranger almost as an experiment upon
his credulity, if we tell the simple truth. Being incredible, however,
it is not the less true; and, being monstrous, it will yet be recorded
in history, that the Scottish church has split into mortal feuds upon
two points absolutely without interest to the nation; first, upon a
demand for creating clergymen by a new process; secondly, upon a demand
for Papal latitude of jurisdiction. Even the order of succession in
these things is not without meaning. Had the second demand stood first,
it would have seemed possible that the two demands might have grown
up independently, and so far conscientiously. But, according to the
realities of the case, this is _not_ possible; the second demand grew
_out_ of the first. The interest of the Seceders, as locked up in their
earliest requisition, was that which prompted their second. Almost
everybody was contented with the existing mode of creating the pastoral
relation. Search through Christendom, lengthways and breadthways, there
was not a public usage, an institution, an economy, which more
profoundly slept in the sunshine of divine favor or of civil prosperity,
than the peculiar mode authorized and practised in Scotland of
appointing to every parish its several pastor. Here and there an
ultra-Presbyterian spirit might prompt a murmur against it. But the
wise and intelligent approved; and those who had the appropriate--that
is, the religious interest--confessed that it was practically successful.
From whom, then, came the attempt to change? Why, from those only who
had an alien interest, an indirect interest, an interest of ambition
in its subversion. As matters stood in the spring of 1834, the patron
of each benefice, acting under the severest restraints--restraints which
(if the church courts did their duty) left no room or possibility for
an unfit man to creep in--nominated the incumbent. In a spiritual sense,
the church had all power: by refusing, first of all, to '_license_'
unqualified persons; secondly, by refusing to '_admit_' out of these
licensed persons such as might have become warped from the proper standard
of pastoral fitness, the church had a negative voice, all-potential in
the creation of clergymen; the church could exclude whom she pleased.
But this contented her not. Simply to shut out was an ungracious office,
though mighty for the interests of orthodoxy through the land. The
children of this world, who became the agitators of the church, clamored
for something more. They desired for the church that she should become a
lady patroness; that she should give as well as take away; that she should
wield a sceptre, courted for its bounties, and not merely feared for its
austerities. Yet how should this be accomplished? Openly to translate
upon the church the present power of patrons--_that_ were too
revolutionary, that would have exposed its own object. For the present,
therefore, let this device prevail--let the power nominally be
transferred to congregations: let this be done upon the plea that each
congregation understands best what mode of ministrations tends to its
own edification. There lies the semblance of a Christian plea; the
congregation, it is said, has become anxious for itself; the church
has become anxious for the congregation. And then, if the translation
should be effected, the church has already devised a means for
appropriating the power which she has unsettled; for she limits this
power to the communicants at the sacramental table. Now, in Scotland,
though not in England, the character of communicant is notoriously
created or suspended by the clergyman of each parish; so that, by the
briefest of circuits, the church causes the power to revolve into her
own hands.
That was the first change--a change full of Jacobinism; and for which
to be published was to be denounced. It was necessary, therefore, to
place this Jacobin change upon a basis privileged from attack. How
should _that_ be done? The object was to create a new clerical power;
to shift the election of clergymen from the lay hands in which law and
usage had lodged it; and, under a plausible mask of making the election
popular, circuitously to make it ecclesiastical. Yet, if the existing
patrons of church benefices should see themselves suddenly denuded of
their rights, and within a year or two should see these rights settling
determinately into the hands of the clergy, the fraud, the fraudulent
purpose, and the fraudulent machinery, would have stood out in gross
proportions too palpably revealed. In this dilemma the reverend
agitators devised a second scheme. It was a scheme bearing triple
harvests; for, at one and the same time, it furnished the motive which
gave a constructive coherency and meaning to the original purpose, it
threw a solemn shadow over the rank worldliness of that purpose, and
it opened a diffusive tendency towards other purposes of the same
nature, as yet undeveloped. The device was this: in Scotland, as in
England, the total process by which a parish clergyman is created,
subdivides itself into several successive acts. The initial act belongs
to the patron of the benefice: he must '_present_;' that is, he notifies
the fact of his having conferred the benefice upon A B, to a public
body which officially takes cognizance of this act; and that body is,
not the particular parish concerned, but the presbytery of the district
in which the parish is seated. Thus far the steps, merely legal, of
the proceedings, were too definite to be easily disturbed. These steps
are sustained by Lord Aberdeen as realities, and even by the
Non-intrusionists were tolerated as formalities.
But at this point commence other steps not so rigorously defined by
law or usage, nor so absolutely within one uniform interpretation of
their value. In practice they had long sunk into forms. But ancient
forms easily lend themselves to a revivification by meanings and
applications, new or old, under the galvanism of democratic forces.
The disturbers of the church, passing by the act of 'presentation' as
an obstacle too formidable to be separately attacked on its own account,
made their stand upon one of the two acts which lie next in succession.
It is the regular routine, that the presbytery, having been warned of
the patron's appointment, and having'received' (in technical language)
the presentee--that is, having formally recognised him in that
character--next appoint a day on which he is to preach before the
congregation. This sermon, together with the prayers by which it is
accompanied, constitute the probationary act according to some views;
but, according to the general theory, simply the inaugural act by which
the new pastor places himself officially before his future parishioners.
Decorum, and the sense of proportion, seem to require that to every
commencement of a very weighty relation, imposing new duties, there
should be a corresponding and ceremonial entrance. The new pastor,
until this public introduction, could not be legitimately assumed for
known to the parishioners. And accordingly at this point it was--viz.
subsequently to his authentic publication, as we may call it--that,
in the case of any grievous scandal known to the parish as outstanding
against him, arose the proper opportunity furnished by the church for
lodging the accusation, and for investigating it before the church
court. In default, however, of any grave objection to the presentee,
he was next summoned by the presbytery to what really _was_ a
probationary act at their bar; viz. an examination of his theological
sufficiency. But in this it could not be expected that he should fail,
because he must previously have satisfied the requisitions of the
church in his original examination for a license to preach. Once
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THE MONOMANIAC
(_LA BÊTE HUMAINE_)
By ÉMILE ZOLA
Translated and Edited, with a Preface
By EDWARD VIZETELLY
London
HUTCHINSON & CO
Paternoster Row. 1901
_All rights reserved._
[Illustration: "SÉVERINE UTTERED AN INVOLUNTARY CRY, AND ROUBAUD TURNED
ROUND, TERRIFIED." _p._ 196.]
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PREFACE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
PREFACE
This striking work, now published for the first time in England, but a
hundred thousand copies whereof have been sold in France, is one of the
most powerful novels that M. Émile Zola has written. It will be doubly
interesting to English readers, because for them it forms a missing
link in the famous Rougon-Macquart series.
The student of Zola literature will remember in the _Assommoir_ that
"handsome Lantier whose heartlessness was to cost Gervaise so many
tears." Jacques Lantier, the chief character in this _Bête Humaine_,
this _Human Animal_ which I have ventured to call the _Monomaniac_, is
one of their children. It is he who is the monomaniac. His monomania
consists in an irresistible prurience for murder, and his victims
must be women, just like that baneful criminal who was performing his
hideous exploits in the streets of the city of London in utter defiance
of the police, about the time M. Zola sat down to pen this remarkable
novel, and from whom, maybe, he partly took the idea.
Every woman this Jacques Lantier falls in love with, nay, every girl
from whom he culls a kiss, or whose bare shoulders or throat he happens
to catch a glimpse of, he feels an indomitable craving to slaughter!
And this abominable thirst is, it appears, nothing less than an
irresistible desire to avenge certain wrongs of which he has lost the
exact account, that have been handed down to him, through the males of
his line, since that distant age when prehistoric man found shelter in
the depths of caverns.
Around this peculiar being, who in other respects is like any ordinary
mortal, M. Émile Zola has grouped some very carefully studied
characters. All are drawn with a firm, masterly hand; all live and
breathe. Madame Lebleu, caught with her ear to the keyhole, is worthy
of Dickens. So is Aunt Phasie, who has engaged in a desperate underhand
struggle with her wretch of a husband about a miserable hoard of £40
which he wants to lay hands on. The idea of the jeering smile on her
lips, which seem to be repeating to him, "Search! search!" as she lies
a corpse on her bed in the dim light of a tallow candle, is inimitable.
The unconscious Séverine is but one of thousands of pretty Frenchwomen
tripping along the asphalt at this hour, utterly unable to distinguish
between right and wrong, who are ready to do anything, to sell
themselves body and soul for a little ease, a few smart frocks, and
some dainty linen. The warrior girl Flore, who thrashes the males, is a
grand conception.
But the gem of the whole bunch is that obstinate, narrow-minded,
self-sufficient examining-magistrate, M. Denizet; and in dealing with
this character, the author lays bare all the abominable system of
French criminal procedure. Recently this was modified to the extent
of allowing the accused party to have the assistance of counsel while
undergoing the torture of repeated searching cross-examinations at
the hands of his tormentor. But in the days of which M. Émile Zola is
writing, the prisoner enjoyed no such protection. He stood alone in the
room with the examining-magistrate and his registrar, and while the
former craftily laid traps for him to fall into, the latter carefully
took down his replies to the incriminating questions addressed to him.
It positively makes one shudder to think how many innocent men must
have been sent to the guillotine, or to penal servitude for life,
like poor Cabuche, during the length of years this atrocious practice
remained in full vigour!
The English reader, accustomed to open, even-handed justice for one and
all alike, and unfamiliar with the ways that prevail in France, will
start with amazement and incredulity at the idea of shelving criminal
cases to avoid scandal involving persons in high position. But such is
by no means an uncommon proceeding on the other side of the straits.
Georges Ohnet introduces a similar incident into his novel _Le Droit de
l'Enfant_.
M. Émile Zola has made most of his books a study of some particular
sphere of life in France. In this instance he introduces his readers
to the railway and railway servants. They are all there, from the
station-master to the porter, and all are depicted with so skilful a
hand that anyone who has travelled among our neighbours must recognise
them.
By frequent runs on an express engine between Paris and Havre, and
vice versâ, the author has mastered all the complicated mechanism of
the locomotive; and we see his trains vividly as in reality, starting
from the termini, gliding along the lofty embankments, through the
deep cuttings, plunging into and bursting from the tunnels amidst the
deafening riot of their hundred wheels, while the dumpy habitation of
the gatekeeper, Misard, totters on its frail foundations as they fly by
in a hurricane blast.
The story teems with incident from start to finish. Each chapter is a
drama in itself. To name but a few of the exciting events that are
dealt with: there is a murder in a railway carriage; an appalling
railway accident; a desperate fight between driver and fireman on the
foot-plate of a locomotive, which ends in both going over the side
to be cut to pieces, while the long train of cattle-trucks, under no
control, crammed full of inebriated soldiers on their way to the war,
who are yelling patriotic songs, dashes along, full steam, straight
ahead, with a big fire just made up, onward; to stop, no one knows
where.
This is certainly one of the best and most dramatic novels that M.
Émile Zola has ever penned; and I feel lively pleasure at having
the good fortune to be able, with the assistance of my enterprising
publishers, to present it to the English reading public.
EDWARD VIZETELLY.
SURBITON,
_August_ 20, 1901.
THE MONOMANIAC
CHAPTER I
Roubaud, on entering the room, placed the loaf, the pâté, and the
bottle of white wine on the table. But Mother Victoire, before going
down to her post in the morning, had crammed the stove with such a
quantity of cinders that the heat was stifling, and the assistant
station-master, having opened a window, leant out on the rail in front
of it.
This occurred in the Impasse d'Amsterdam, in the last house on the
right, a lofty dwelling, where the Western Railway Company lodged some
of their staff. The window on the fifth floor, at the angle of the
mansarded roof, looked on to the station, that broad trench cutting
into the Quartier de l'Europe, to abruptly open up the view, and which
the grey mid-February sky, of a grey that was damp and warm, penetrated
by the sun, seemed to make still wider on that particular afternoon.
Opposite, in the sunny haze, the houses in the Rue de Rome became
confused, fading lightly into distance. On the left gaped the gigantic
porches of the iron marquees, with their smoky glass. That of the main
lines on which the eye looked down, appeared immense. It was separated
from those of Argenteuil, Versailles, and the Ceinture railway, which
were smaller, by the buildings set apart for the post-office, and for
heating water to fill the foot-warmers. To the right the trench was
severed by the diamond pattern ironwork of the Pont de l'Europe, but it
came into sight again, and could be followed as far as the Batignolles
tunnel.
And below the window itself, occupying all the vast space, the three
double lines that issued from the bridge deviated, spreading out like
a fan, whose innumerable metal branches ran on to disappear beneath
the span roofs of the marquees. In front of the arches stood the three
boxes of the pointsmen, with their small, bare gardens. Amidst the
confused background of carriages and engines encumbering the rails, a
great red signal formed a spot in the pale daylight.
Roubaud was interested for a few minutes, comparing what he saw with
his own station at Havre. Each time he came like this, to pass a day at
Paris, and found accommodation in the room of Mother Victoire, love of
his trade got the better of him. The arrival of the train from Mantes
had animated the platforms under the marquee of the main lines; and his
eyes followed the shunting engine, a small tender-engine with three
low wheels coupled together, which began briskly bustling to and fro,
branching off the train, dragging away the carriages to drive them on
to the shunting lines. Another engine, a powerful one this, an express
engine, with two great devouring wheels, stood still alone, sending
from its chimney a quantity of black smoke, which ascended straight,
and very slowly, through the calm air.
But all the attention of Roubaud was centred on the 3.25 train for
Caen, already full of passengers and awaiting its locomotive, which
he could not see, for it had stopped on the other side of the Pont de
l'Europe. He could only hear it asking for permission to advance, with
slight, hurried whistles, like a person becoming impatient. An order
resounded. The locomotive responded by one short whistle to indicate
that it had understood. Then, before moving, came a brief silence. The
exhaust pipes were opened, and the steam went hissing on a level with
the ground in a deafening jet.
He then noticed this white cloud bursting from the bridge in volume,
whirling about like snowy fleece flying through the ironwork. A whole
corner of the expanse became whitened, while the smoke from the other
engine expanded its black veil. From behind the bridge could be heard
the prolonged, muffled sounds of the horn, mingled with the shouting of
orders and the shocks of turning-tables. All at once the air was rent,
and he distinguished in the background a train from Versailles, and a
train from Auteuil, one up and one down, crossing each other.
As Roubaud was about to quit the window, a voice calling him by name
made him lean out. Below, on the fourth floor balcony, he recognised
a young man about thirty years of age, named Henri Dauvergne, a
headguard, who resided there with his father, deputy station-master for
the main lines, and his two sisters, Claire and Sophie, a couple of
charming blondes, one eighteen and the other twenty, who looked after
the housekeeping with the 6,000 frcs. of the two men, amidst a constant
stream of gaiety. The elder one would be heard laughing, while the
younger sang, and a cage full of exotic birds rivalled one another in
roulades.
"By Jove, Monsieur Roubaud! so you are in Paris, then? Ah! yes, about
your affair with the sub-prefect!"
The assistant station-master, leaning on the rail again, explained
that he had to leave Havre that morning by the 6.40 express. He had
been summoned to Paris by the traffic-manager, who had been giving him
a serious lecture. He considered himself lucky in not having lost his
post.
"And madam?" Henri inquired.
Madame had wished to come also, to make some purchases. Her husband was
waiting for her there, in that room which Mother Victoire placed at
their service whenever they came to Paris. It was there that they loved
to lunch, tranquil and alone, while | 1,177.655138 |
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Produced by Charlene Taylor, Joe C, Charlie Howard, and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian
Libraries)
PLOTINOS
Complete Works
In Chronological Order, Grouped in Four Periods;
With
BIOGRAPHY by PORPHYRY, EUNAPIUS, & SUIDAS,
COMMENTARY by PORPHYRY,
ILLUSTRATIONS by JAMBLICHUS & AMMONIUS,
STUDIES in Sources, Development, Influence;
INDEX of Subjects, Thoughts and Words.
by
KENNETH SYLVAN GUTHRIE,
Professor in Extension, University of the South, Sewanee;
A.M., Sewanee, and Harvard; Ph.D., Tulane, and Columbia.
M.D., Medico-Chirurgical College, Philadelphia.
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE PRESS
P. O. Box 42, ALPINE, N.J., U.S.A.
Copyright, 1918, by Kenneth Sylvan Guthrie.
All Rights, including that of Translation, Reserved.
Entered at Stationers' Hall, by
George Bell and Sons, Portugal Street, Lincoln's Inn, London.
PLOTINOS
Complete Works
In Chronological Order, Grouped in Four Periods;
With
BIOGRAPHY by PORPHYRY, EUNAPIUS, & SUIDAS,
COMMENTARY by PORPHYRY,
ILLUSTRATIONS by JAMBLICHUS & AMMONIUS,
STUDIES in Sources, Development, Influence;
INDEX of Subjects, Thoughts and Words.
by
KENNETH SYLVAN GUTHRIE,
Professor in Extension, University of the South, Sewanee;
A.M., Sewanee, and Harvard; Ph.D., Tulane, and Columbia.
M.D., Medico-Chirurgical College, Philadelphia.
VOL. I
Biographies; Amelian Books, 1-21.
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE PRESS
P. O. Box 42, ALPINE, N.J., U.S.A.
FOREWORD
It is only with mixed feelings that such a work can be published.
Overshadowing all is the supreme duty to the English-speaking world,
and secondarily to the rest of humanity to restore to them in an
accessible form their, till now, unexploited spiritual heritage, with
its flood of light on the origins of their favorite philosophy. And
then comes the contrast--the pitiful accomplishment. Nor could it
be otherwise; for there are passages that never can be interpreted
perfectly; moreover, the writer would gladly have devoted to it every
other leisure moment of his life--but that was impossible. As a matter
of fact, he would have made this translation at the beginning of his
life, instead of at its end, had it not been for a mistaken sense of
modesty; but as no one offered to do it, he had to do it himself. If he
had done it earlier, his "Philosophy of Plotinos" would have been a far
better work.
Indeed, if it was not for the difficulty and expense of putting it
out, the writer would now add to the text an entirely new summary of
Plotinos's views. The fairly complete concordance, however, should
be of service to the student, and help to rectify the latest German
summary of Plotinos, that by Drews, which in its effort to furnish a
foundation for Hartmann's philosophy of the unconscious, neglected both
origins and spiritual aspects. However, the present genetic insight of
Plotinos's development should make forever impossible that theory of
cast-iron coherence, which is neither historical nor human.
The writer, having no thesis such as Drews' to justify, will
| 1,177.700051 |
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Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
Transcriber's Note:
Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/onheightsanovel01auergoog
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE VILLA ON THE RHINE
Leisure Hour Series, 2 vols. 16mo. $2.00
HENRY HOLT & CO., NEW YORK
ON THE HEIGHTS
_A NOVEL_
BY
BERTHOLD AUERBACH
TRANSLATED BY
SIMON ADLER STERN
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1907
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by
HENRY HOLT,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
ON THE HEIGHTS.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
Early mass was being celebrated in the chapel attached to the royal
summer palace.
The palace stood on a slight eminence in the center of the park. The
eastern <DW72> of the hill had been planted with vineyards, and its
crest was covered with mighty, towering beeches. The park abounded with
maples, plane-trees and elms, with their rich foliage, and firs of
various kinds, while the thick clusters of needles on the fir-leaved
mountain pine showed that it had become acclimated. On grassy lawns
there were solitary tall pines of perfect growth. A charming variety of
flowers and leaf plants lent grace to the picture which, in all its
details, showed evidence of artistic design and exquisite taste.
The paths were neatly kept. The flowers were sparkling with the dews of
morning; birds were singing and the air was laden with the fragrant
perfume of the new-mown grass. Swans, and rare varieties of ducks from
foreign lands, were swimming in the large lake, on the banks of which
the bright-hued flamingo might also have been seen. The fountain in the
center of the lake sent its waters to such a height that they were lost
in spray.
A clear mountain brook, running between alders and weeping-willows, and
under many a rustic bridge, emptied into the lake, flowing thence
through the valley until it reached the river, bright glimpses of which
might here and there be caught through openings in the shrubbery.
Tables, chairs and benches of graceful form had been placed under the
trees and at various points that commanded a fine prospect.
Seated near the chapel there was a man of impressive appearance. His
dress betokened scrupulous care. His thick hair was as white as his
cravat. His eyes were blue and sparkling, and full of youthful fire. He
looked out upon the broad landscape, the valley crowded with fruit-trees,
the near-lying hills, and the mountain beyond, whose lines stood
out in bold relief against the blue sky above. He had a book in his
hand, but now laid it aside and drank in the peaceful influences of the
scene before him.
The great door of the chapel was open: the mighty sounds of the organ
were heard; a soft cloud of incense floated out on the morning air and
then vanished into space.
This impressive-looking man was the king's physician, Doctor Gunther,
who, being a Protestant, had not attended mass.
Just then, a beautiful woman, carrying an open sunshade, stepped out
from the veranda which was almost concealed by trellised vines. She
wore a full, white robe, and her headdress was a simple morning cap
with blue ribbons. Her bright, rosy face beamed with youth and beauty;
her hair was of a golden hue and she seemed the very incarnation of
glorious day.
The doctor, hearing the rustling of her dress, had at once advanced and
made his obeisance.
"Good-morning, doctor!" said the lady, whose two female companions had
kept a few steps to the rear. Her voice was not clear and bright, but
suggestive of the soulful violoncello-tone which is more properly the
vehicle of intense and fervent feeling, than of loud-voiced joy.
"What a charming day!" continued the lady; "and yet, for that very
reason, doubly sad to those who are obliged to pass it in a sick-room.
How is our dear Countess Brinkenstein?"
"The countess, may it please Your Majesty, may safely take the air for
an hour to-day."
"I'm delighted to hear you say so. Sadness and sickness should indeed
both be unknown in this lovely spot."
"The countess must regard herself as doubly fortunate, now that she is
able to perform the interesting duties that await her."
"Speak softly," suddenly said the queen, for the sounds of the organ
had ceased; the time of the consecration had arrived. "Ah, dear doctor,
I should like to confide a secret to you."
The other ladies stepped aside, while the queen and the doctor walked
up and down on the open space in front of the chapel.
"From one's physician, nothing should be kept concealed," said the
doctor; "Your Majesty credited me, not long since, with the possession
of a stethoscope by means of which I could note the movements of the
soul itself."
"Yes," replied the queen, her face mantled with blushes, "I've already
thought of applying to you for ghostly advice, but that were
impracticable; such matters I must settle for myself. But I've a
request to make of you as the physician."
"Your Majesty has but to command--"
"No, that can't be done in this instance. What I meant was--"
At that moment, the bell began to toll, and the king came out of the
chapel. He wore the simple dress of a citizen and was without
decorations of any kind. He was followed by the gentlemen and ladies of
the court, the former of whom were also in citizen's dress, and, for
the greater part, wore the picturesque costume of the mountaineers of
that region.
The king was a man of stately appearance and erect bearing. He bowed to
the queen from afar, and hastened forward to meet her. The ladies and
gentlemen composing his train remained in the background exchanging
kindly greetings. The king addressed a few words to the queen, whereat
she smiled; he, too, seemed happy, and, offering her his arm, led her
toward the pavilion. The ladies and gentlemen followed, indulging in
cheerful and unconstrained conversation by the way.
A young lady, leaving the rest of the party, joined the doctor and
grasped his hand most cordially. She was of a tall and graceful figure;
her hair and eyes were brown. She wore a simple, light- summer
dress and a loose jacket which was open and revealed the full
chemisette. A leather girdle studded with steel buttons encircled her
waist. Her movements were easy and graceful; her expression, half
earnest, half mischievous. "Might I ask," said she, addressing the
doctor, "the name of the book you've found worth reading on this lovely
morning?"
"It was well worth reading, although, to tell the truth, I've not
opened it," replied the doctor, while he handed the little book to her.
It was Horace.
"Oh, it's Latin!" said the lady. Her voice was as clear and bold as
that of a chaffinch. "And this, I suppose, is your mass."
The doctor briefly alluded to the success with which the ancient
writers had compressed so many | 1,177.814032 |
2023-11-16 18:36:41.8216990 | 2,800 | 6 | VOL. 93, SEPTEMBER 24, 1887***
E-text prepared by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer, and the Project
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Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 26089-h.htm or 26089-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/6/0/8/26089/26089-h/26089-h.htm)
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
VOL. 93
SEPTEMBER 24, 1887.
Illustration: RECORD OF THE SESSION--422.
AKERS-DOUGLAS }
COLONEL WALROND } Dead Heat.
BARON HENRY DE WORMS }
* * * * *
SALUBRITIES ABROAD.
_Royat Improved._--I have said Royat ought to be rebuilt. The Grand
Hotel is of a sort of Doll's House order of architecture, splendid
front, no depth to speak of, and built on so steep an ascent that it is
hoisted up at the back like a lady's skirt by a dress-improver. _Beau
site_ all the same, and magnificent view.
* * * * *
Last year the Hotel Continental formed part of a group of hotels--which
seemed to have been the result of some violent volcanic eruption, when
the mountain threw up several hotels, and left them there anyhow--is at
present separated from the Splendide and its other former companions by
an impromptu wall, and from all its front windows it commands varied,
beautiful, and, on the Clermont-Ferrand side, extensive views. It has a
pleasant garden, a most enjoyable terrace, and it only wants to be in
the hands of a firmly fixed and intelligent management to make it quite
the best hotel in Royat. "Personally recommended," that is, as managed
under the direction of M. HALL this year.
The service at the _Etablissement de Bains_ is about as good as it can
be. There are, however, no _bains de luxe_. A few of these would attract
those "whom" as the appeals to the charitable used to have it,
"Providence has blessed with affluence."
"La Compagnie Brocard," which manages Royat's bathing arrangements and
undertakes a portion of the mild yet (to my mind as a serious bather)
sufficient amusements, is not, unfortunately for the public, in accord
with M. SAMIE, the spirited Proprietor of an opposition Casino, where
there is a small theatre, in its way a perfect gem. Here all the "Stars"
of any magnitude make their appearance on visiting Royat. As a "Baigneur
de Royat" puts it, in a local journal, the Compagnie Brocard cannot
consider their stuffy little room ("_le petit etouffoir_") where
theatrical performances are given as a real theatre. It is a pity that
M. SAMIE and La Compagnie Brocard cannot, like the "birds in their
little nests," agree. But as to Theatres and spectacles, my rule at
Royat, or at any other Water-cure place, would be this:--
"_Any baigneur found out of his hotel or lodgings after 10.15, p.m.,
shall be arrested, conducted back to his hotel, his number taken, and
for the second offence he shall be fined. The fine to go to such objects
as the Direction shall determine._"
In short there should be introduced here the English University system
of Proctors and bull-dogs.
* * * * *
_Another Rule._--No theatrical entertainment should last more than two
hours with _entr'actes_ of seven minutes each. The ventilation of the
_salle de spectacle_ should be assured.
* * * * *
If a company wanted to play a piece in four Acts, they must stop here
two days; and, if they couldn't do that, then they must begin their
performance in the afternoon, have one _entr'acte_ of an hour and a half
to allow for dinner, and recommence at eight o'clock. I would discourage
all evening indoor entertainments. Music, coffee, _petits chevaux_, M.
GUIGNOL'S show, _ombres chinoises_, everything in fact that can be done
_al fresco_--(and why not good plays _al fresco_? After the Laboucherian
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, at Twickenham, which I am told was
perfection)--_cafes chantants_, and so forth, including the
"_consommation_ devoutly to be wished," and all the lights out by 9.30.
Lights in bedrooms to be extinguished same hour. This rule would mean,
Early to bed, and early to rise, and the "_baigneurs_" would receive
double the benefit they derive from these places, as now constituted.
Life in the open air should be the rule; plenty of exercise, riding and
walking, and regular hours for everything for three weeks. The
_baigneurs_ to choose their own hours, and be kept to them strictly.
* * * * *
But I have personally no sympathy with the _baigneurs_ who find such a
water-cure place as Royat dull. What do they want? If they cannot get on
without a sort of continuation of the London Season, let them stay away
altogether. Don't let them come and make night hideous with balls,
suppers, dances, and won't-go-home-till-morning parties.
* * * * *
The above are my suggestions for the improvement of Royat; and now I go
on to La Bourboule, and Mont Dore. By the way, the waters at these
places are all supplied, as I am credibly informed, from the same
source; but the waters flowing towards La Bourboule and Mont Dore
traverse certain _couches_ on their way, and come out arsenical. It is
strong drinking at La Bourboule and Mont Dore.
* * * * *
One Joanne Guide introduces you to another Joanne Guide, or a history,
you can't help yourself. The Joanne Guides are so united a family, that
as soon as any member of it establishes itself on a friendly footing
with you, your hand is always in your pocket while you are travelling on
that _Guide Joanne's_ account. An insidious tribe: and they make
themselves absolutely essential to the traveller's existence and
comfort.
* * * * *
Each _Guide Joanne_ tells you about his own country all that is
requisite for you to know, and just so much more as inspires you with a
thirst for further information. Say for example you see an old Chateau.
Let us say _Le Chateau de Jean_. You want to know everything about it.
Good. You inquire of the Guide Joanne which professes to show you all
over France, and which does it, mind you, in what would be an exhaustive
style if it was not written with such an evident eye to the bookselling
business. For example suppose you are looking for information about the
well-known ancient Chateau de Jean, here is a specimen of what Joanne
would say on the subject:--
"_Sur la rive g. (V. ci-dessous B.) restes d'un chateau, style ogival,
(mon. hist.,) bati par le celebre Jean Bienconnu-aux-enfants (V. mon.
hist, xe et xiie s.), beau portail, jolis details d'architecture (mon.
hist.) et en particulier l'appartement dit de la Donzelle toute
desespere (pour le visiter, s'addresser au gardien, pourboire), qui a
conserve une grande partie de sa decoration originale et de sa peinture
(mon. hist. xie). Le donjon renfermait une oubliette profonde nommee DU
RAT DEVORANT, qui autrefois servait de grenier au malt (V. mon. hist.).
Ascension des Obelisques sur la terrasse (splendide panorama) et belles
promenades autour de la petite chapelle dite DU PRETRE CHAUVE. (V. vi.
L'ITINERAIRE DU PAYS-DE-BONNES, GUIDE DIAMANT.)_"
* * * * *
AN END OF THE SUMMER.
JUPITER PLUVIUS,
Sluicer, full-spout,
Downpour diluvious,
Pumped on the Drought.
Checked, aloud crying,
The voice of the Swain;
The rootcrops be dying,
From long lack of rain!
PLUVIUS poured away,
While the wind blew;
TONANS, he roared away,
Hullaballoo,
Kicking up, dweller
In quarters on high,
He, Cloud Compeller;
The Czar of the sky.
Clouds, in convulsion,
Or calm, he keeps under;
Rules, by compulsion:
The reason of thunder.
So did he lately
Compel them to rise,
Piled up in stately
Array on the skies.
Castles aerial,
Splendid when falls,
Sheen on etherial
Vapoury halls,
Battlements, bartizans,
Phantoms of towers,
Fenced round with partisans;
Cloud-cauliflowers.
Mountainous forms
In the realms of felicity,
By Jove, to move storms,
Fraught with force--electricity,
They serve to betoken
What mortals may tell;
The weather is broken:
Summer, farewell!
* * * * *
Light from Wind.
The _Times_ says that experiments are being made at Cap de la Heve, near
the mouth of the Seine, on the production of electricity for lighthouse
purposes by means of the force obtained by windmills. Light from wind!
_Could_ the notion be applied at St. Stephen's? The Session just over
has been mainly wind, so exceptionally "ill wind," that it has blown no
good to anybody, and most certainly has thrown no "light" on anything.
By all means let M. DE L'ANGLE-BEAUMANOIR be empowered to experiment on
the windbags of the House of Commons when they next meet.
* * * * *
QUITE ENGLISH.
(_New Version, as Sung by the Comte de Paris._)
Here I come in complete Constitutional coat
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know):
The type of true Monarchy based on the Vote.
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know.)
To have a legitimate King on the throne,
To make all the Country's best interests his own,
Great, grand, patriotic, but _not_ overgrown
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know).
_Chorus._
Oh, the things that you see and the things that you hear
Are English, you know; quite English, you know.
My mind, like my last Manifesto, 'tis clear,
Is English, quite English, you know!
Just now a great calm meets the national eyes
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know).
But imminent perils it cannot disguise
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know).
We have deserved well of Conservative France;
A Monarchy only her bliss can enhance;
And now of its nature I'll give you a glance
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know).
_Chorus._
The things will much please which you're going to hear
(They're English, you know; quite English, you know).
Legality banished must soon reappear
(That's English, quite English, you know).
What one Congress does can't another undo?
(That's English, you know; quite English, you know.)
The _Eternal_ Republic has gone all askew
(Not English, you know; not English you know).
'Twill presently get quite incurably queer,
And _then_ will the Monarchy promptly appear.
I fancy myself that the moment is | 1,177.841739 |
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Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
In the Whirl of the Rising, by Bertram Mitford.
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
IN THE WHIRL OF THE RISING, BY BERTRAM MITFORD.
PROLOGUE.
"You coward!"
The word cut crisply and sharp through the clear frosty air, lashing and
keen as the wind that stirred the crystal-spangled pines, and the
musical ring of skate-blades upon the ice-bound surface of the mere.
She who uttered it stood, her flower-like face and deep blue eyes all
a-quiver with contemptuous disgust. He to whom it was addressed,
started, blenched ever so slightly, his countenance immediately resuming
its mask of bronze impassibility. Those who heard it echoed it,
secretly or in deep and angry mutter, the while proceeding with their
task--to wit, the restoring of animation to a very nearly drowned human
being, rescued, at infinite risk, from the treacherous spring hole which
had let him through the surface of the ice.
"Say it again," was the answer. "It is such a kind and pleasant thing
to hear, coming from you. So just, too. Do say it again."
"I will say it again," went on the first speaker; and, exasperated by
the bitter sneering tone of the other, her voice rang out high and
clear, "You coward!"
Piers Lamont's dark face took on a change, but it expressed a sneer as
certain retrospective pictures rose before his mental gaze. Such
indeed, in his case, drew the sting of about the most stinging epithet
that lips can frame; yet, remembering that the lips then framing it were
those of the girl with whom he was passionately in love, and to whom he
had recently become engaged, it seemed to hurt.
"Say something. Oh, do say something!" she went on, speaking quickly.
"The boy might have been drowned, and very nearly was, while you stood,
with your hands in your pockets, looking on."
"If your people see fit to throw open the mere to the rabble, the rabble
must take care of itself," he answered. "I daresay I can risk my life,
with an adequate motive. That--isn't one."
The words, audible to many of the bystanders, the contemptuous tone, and
nod of the head in the direction of the ever-increasing group on the
bank, deepened the prevailing indignation. Angry murmurs arose, and
some "booing." Perhaps the presence of the Squire's daughter alone
restrained this demonstration from taking a more active form of
hostility; or it may even have been a something in the hard, bronzed
face and firm build of the man who had just been publicly dubbed
"coward."
"For shame!" hotly retorted the girl. "I have no wish to talk to you
any more, or ever again. Please go."
He made no reply. Lifting his hat ceremoniously he turned away. A few
yards' glide brought him to the bank. He sat down, deliberately removed
his skates, lit a cigar, then started upon his way; the no-longer
restrained jeers which followed him falling upon his ears with no other
effect than to cause him to congratulate himself upon having given
others the opportunity of performing the feat from which he had
refrained.
The subject of all this disturbance was showing signs of restoration to
life and consciousness. Seen in the midst of the gaping--and for the
most part useless--crowd which hemmed him in, he was an urchin of about
thirteen or fourteen, with a debased type of countenance wherein the
characteristics of the worst phase of guttersnipe--low cunning,
predatoriness, boundless impudence, and aggressive brutality--showed
more than incipient. Such a countenance was it, indeed, as to suggest
that the rescue of its owner from a watery death went far to prove the
truth of a certain homely proverb relating to hanging and drowning. And
now, gazing upon it, Violet Courtland was conscious of an unpleasant
truth in those last words spoken by her _fiance_. She was forced to own
to herself that the saving of this life assuredly was not worth the
risking of his. Yet she had implored him to do something towards the
rescue, and he had done nothing. He had replied that there was nothing
to be done; had stood, calmly looking on while others had risked their
lives, he fearing for his. Yes, _fearing_. It looked like that.
And yet--and yet! She knew but little of his past, except what he had
told her. She had taken him on trust. He had led something of an
adventurous life in wild parts of Africa. Two or three times, under
pressure, he had told of an adventurous incident, wherein assuredly he
himself had not played a coward's part. Yet the recollection so far
from clearing him in her estimation produced a contrary effect, and her
lips curled as she decided that he had merely been bragging on these
occasions; that if the events had happened at all they must have
happened to somebody else. For, when all was said and done, he had
shown himself a coward in her sight. Her hastily formed judgment
stood--if anything--stronger than before. And--she was engaged to marry
a coward!
With a sad sinking of heart she left the spot, and, avoiding all escort
or companionship, took her way homeward alone. The short winter
afternoon was waning, and a red afterglow was already fast fading into
the grey of dusk. Against it the chimney stacks of Courtland Hall stood
silhouetted blackly, while farther down, among the leafless and frost
spangled tree-tops, the old church-tower stood square and massive.
It was Christmas Eve, and now the bells in the tower rang out in sudden
and tuneful chime, flinging their merry peal far and wide over leafless
woodland and frozen meadow. They blended, too, with the ring of belated
blades on the ice-bound mere behind, and the sound of voices mellowed by
distance. To this girl, now hurrying along the field path, her little
skates dangling from her wrist, but for the events of the last half-hour
how sweet and hallowed and homelike it would all have been; glorified,
too, by the presence of _one_! Now, anger, disgust, contempt filled her
mind; and her heart was aching and sore with the void of an ideal cast
out.
One was there as she struck into the garden path leading up to the
terrace. He was pacing up and down smoking a cigar.
"Well?" he said, turning suddenly upon her. "Well, and have you had
time to reconsider your very hastily expressed opinion?"
"It was not hastily expressed. It was deliberate," she replied quickly.
"I have no words for a coward. I said that before."
"Yes, you said that before--for the amusement of a mob of grunting
yokels, and an odd social equal or two. And now you repeat it. Very
well. Think what you please. It is utterly immaterial to me now and
henceforward. I will not even say good-bye."
He walked away from her in the other direction, while she passed on. A
half impulse was upon her to linger, to offer him an opportunity of
explanation. Somehow there was that about his personality which seemed
to belie her judgment upon him. But pride, perversity, superficiality
of the deductive faculty, triumphed. She passed on without a word.
The hour was dark for Piers Lamont--dark indeed. He was a | 1,177.876504 |
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THE MIDDLE PERIOD
_THE AMERICAN HISTORY SERIES_
THE MIDDLE PERIOD
1817-1858
BY
JOHN W. BURGESS, PH.D., LL.D.
PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL SCIENCE AND CONSTITUTIONAL LAW, AND DEAN OF THE
FACULTY OF POLITICAL SCIENCE, IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY IN THE CITY OF
NEW YORK
_WITH MAPS_
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1910
COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
To the memory of my former teacher, colleague, and friend,
JULIUS HAWLEY SEELYE,
philosopher, theologian, statesman, and educator, this volume is
reverently and affectionately inscribed.
PREFACE
There is no more serious and delicate task in literature and morals
than that of writing the history of the United States from 1816 to
1860. The periods which precede this may be treated without fear of
arousing passion, prejudice, and resentment, and with little danger of
being misunderstood. Even the immaculateness of Washington may be
attacked without exciting anything worse than a sort of uncomfortable
admiration for the reckless courage of the assailant. But when we pass
the year 1820, and especially when we approach the year 1860, we find
ourselves in a different world. We find ourselves in the midst of the
ideas, the motives, and the occurrences which, and of the men who,
have, in large degree, produced the animosities, the friendships, and
the relations between parties and sections which prevail to-day.
Serious and delicate as the task is, however, the time has arrived
when it should be undertaken in a thoroughly impartial spirit. The
continued misunderstanding between the North and the South is an ever
present menace to the welfare of both sections and of the entire
nation. It makes it almost impossible to decide any question of our
politics upon its merits. It offers an almost insuperable obstacle to
the development of a national opinion upon the fundamental principles
of our polity. If we would clear up this confusion in the common
consciousness, we must do something to dispel this misunderstanding;
and I know of no means of accomplishing this, save the rewriting of
our history from 1816 to 1860, with an open mind and a willing spirit
to see and to represent truth and error, and right and wrong, without
regard to the men or the sections in whom or where they may appear.
I am by no means certain that I am able to do this. I am old enough to
have been a witness of the great struggle of 1861-65, and to have
participated, in a small way, in it. My early years were embittered by
the political hatreds which then prevailed. I learned before my
majority to regard secession as an abomination, and its chief cause,
slavery, as a great evil; and I cannot say that these feelings have
been much modified, if any at all, by longer experiences and maturer
thought. I have, therefore, undertaken this work with many misgivings.
Keenly conscious of my own prejudices, I have exerted my imagination
to the utmost to create a picture in my own mind of the environment of
those who held the opposite opinion upon these fundamental subjects,
and to appreciate the processes of their reasoning under the
influences of their own particular situation. And I have with sedulous
care avoided all the histories written immediately after the close of
the great contest of arms, and all rehashes of them of later date. In
fact I have made it an invariable rule to use no secondary material;
that is, no material in which original matter is mingled with
somebody's interpretation of its meaning. If, therefore, the facts in
my narration are twisted by prejudices and preconceptions, I think I
can assure my readers that they have suffered only one twist. I have
also endeavored to approach my subject in a reverent spirit, and to
deal with the characters who made our history, in this almost tragic
period, as serious and sincere men having a most perplexing and
momentous problem to solve, a problem not of their own making, but a
fatal inheritance from their predecessors.
I have been especially repelled by the flippant superficiality of the
foreign critics of this period of our history, and their evident
delight in representing the professions and teachings of the "Free
Republic" as canting hypocrisy. It has seemed to me a great misfortune
that the present generation and future generations should be taught to
regard so lightly the earnest efforts of wise, true, and honorable men
to rescue the country from the great catastrophe which, for so long,
impended over it. The passionate onesidedness of our own writers is
hardly more harmful, and is certainly less repulsive.
I recently heard a distinguished professor of history and politics say
that he thought the history of the United States, in this period,
could be truthfully written only by a Scotch-Irishman. I suppose he
meant that the Scotch element in this ideal historian would take the
Northern point of view, and the Irish element the Southern; but I
could not see how this would produce anything more than another pair
of narratives from the old contradictory points of view; and he did
not explain how it would.
My opinion is, on the contrary, that this history must be written by
an American and a Northerner, and from the Northern point of
view--because an American best understands Americans, after all;
because the victorious party can be and will be more liberal,
generous, and sympathetic than the vanquished; and because the
Northern view is, in the main, the correct view. It will not improve
matters to concede that the South had right and the North might, or,
even, that both were equally right and equally wrong. Such a doctrine
can only work injury to both, and more injury to the South than to the
North. Chewing the bitter cud of fancied wrong produces both spiritual
misery and material adversity, and tempts to foolish and reckless
action for righting the imagined injustice. Moreover, any such
doctrine is false, and acquiescence in it, however kindly meant, is
weak, and can have no other effect than the perpetuation of error and
misunderstanding. The time has come when the men of the South should
acknowledge that they were in error in their attempt to destroy the
Union, and it is unmanly in them not to do so. When they appealed the
great question from the decision at the ballot-box to the "trial by
battle," their leaders declared, over and over again, in calling their
followers to arms, that the "God of battles" would surely give the
victory to the right. In the great movements of the world's history
this is certainly a sound philosophy, and they should have held to it
after their defeat. Their recourse to the crude notion that they had
succumbed only to might was thus not only a bitter, false, and
dangerous consolation, but it was a stultification of themselves when
at their best as men and heroes.
While, therefore, great care has been taken, in the following pages,
to attribute to the Southern leaders and the Southern people sincerity
of purpose in their views and their acts, while their ideas and their
reasoning have been, I think, duly appreciated, and patiently
explained, while the right has been willingly acknowledged to them and
honor accorded them whenever and wherever they have had the right and
have merited honor, and while unbounded sympathy for personal
suffering and misfortune has been expressed, still not one scintilla
of justification for secession and rebellion must be expected. The
South must acknowledge its error as well as its defeat in regard to
these things, and that, too, not with lip service, but from the brain
and the heart and the manly will, before any real concord in thought
and feeling, any real national brotherhood, can be established. This
is not too much to demand, simply because it is right, and nothing can
be settled, as Mr. Lincoln said, until it is settled right. Any
interpretation of this period of American history which does not
demonstrate to the South its error will be worthless, simply because
it will not be true; and unless we are men enough to hear and accept
and stand upon the truth, it is useless to endeavor to find a bond of
real union between us. In a word, the conviction of the South of its
error in secession and rebellion is absolutely indispensable to the
establishment of national cordiality; and the history of this period
which fails to do this will fail in accomplishing one of the highest
works of history, the reconciliation of men to the plans of Providence
for their perfection.
I have not, in the following pages, undertaken to treat _all_ of the
events of our experience from 1816 to 1860. The space allowed me would
not admit of that. And even if it had, I still would have selected
only those events which, in my opinion, are significant of our
progress in civilization, and, as I am writing a political history,
only those which are significant of our progress in political
civilization. The truthful record, connection, and interpretation of
such events is what I call history in the highest sense, as
distinguished from chronology, narrative, and romance. Both necessity
and philosophy have confined me to these.
I cannot close these prefatory sentences without a word of grateful
acknowledgment to my friend and colleague, Dr. Harry A. Cushing, for
the important services which he has rendered me in the preparation of
this work.
JOHN W. BURGESS.
323 WEST FIFTY-SEVENTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.
JANUARY 22, 1897.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
THE NATIONALIZATION OF THE OLD REPUBLICAN PARTY,....... 1
CHAPTER II.
THE ACQUISITION OF FLORIDA, ................. 19
CHAPTER III.
SLAVERY IN THE UNITED STATES BEFORE 1820, .......... 39
CHAPTER IV.
THE CREATION OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF MISSOURI, ........ 61
CHAPTER V.
THE BEGINNING OF THE PARTICULARISTIC REACTION,........ 108
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1824,.............. 131
CHAPTER VII.
THE DIVISION OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY, ............ 145
CHAPTER VIII.
DEMOCRATIC OPPOSITION TO INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS AND PROTECTION, 166
CHAPTER IX.
THE UNITED STATES BANK AND THE PRESIDENTIAL CONTEST OF 1832,. 190
CHAPTER X.
NULLIFICATION,........................ 210
CHAPTER XI.
ABOLITION,.......................... 242
CHAPTER XII.
THE BANK, THE SUB-TREASURY, AND PARTY DEVELOPMENT BETWEEN 1832
AND 1842, | 1,177.87652 |
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SOPHIE MAY'S BOOKS.
_Any volume sold separately._
=DOTTY DIMPLE SERIES.= Six volumes. Illustrated.
Per vol., 75 cents.
Dotty Dimple at her Grandmother's.
Dotty Dimple at Home.
Dotty Dimple out West.
Dotty Dimple at Play.
Dotty Dimple at School.
Dotty Dimple's Flyaway.
=FLAXIE FRIZZLE STORIES.= Illust. Per vol., 75 cts.
Flaxie Frizzle.
Doctor Papa.
Little Pitchers.
The Twin Cousins.
Kittyleen.
(_Others in preparation._)
=LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.= Six vols. Handsomely
Illustrated. Per vol., 75 cts.
Little Prudy.
Little Prudy's Sister Susy.
Little Prudy's Captain Horace.
Little Prudy's Story Book.
Little Prudy's Cousin Grace.
Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple.
=LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES.= Six vols.
Illustrated. Per vol., 75 cts.
Little Folks Astray.
Prudy Keeping House.
Aunt Madge's Story.
Little Grandmother.
Little Grandfather.
Miss Thistledown.
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON.
[Illustration: "I'M A DOCTOR'S CHILLEN; THEY WON'T BITE ME," SAID
FLAXIE. Page 11.]
[Illustration: Flaxie Frizzle
SERIES
By
SOPHIE MAY
ILLUSTRATED
Doctor Papa.
LEE & SHEPARD BOSTON.]
_FLAXIE FRIZZLE STORIES._
DOCTOR PAPA.
BY
SOPHIE MAY
AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES," "DOTTY DIMPLE
STORIES," "LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY STORIES," ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED._
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM.
COPYRIGHT,
1877,
BY LEE AND SHEPARD.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE SCARECROW SISTER, 9
II. FLAXIE'S DOSE, 20
III. THE KNITTING-WORK PARTY, 36
IV. MAKING FLAXIE HAPPY, 54
V. BETTER THAN A KITTEN, 68
VI. THE STRANGE RIDE, 82
VII. MAKING CALLS, 96
VIII. TEASING MIDGE, 113
IX. THE WEE WHITE ROSE, 127
X. PRESTON'S GOLD DOLLAR, 137
XI. PRESTON KEEPING HOUSE, 158
XII. MRS. PRIM'S STRAWBERRIES, 174
FLAXIE FRIZZLE AND DR. PAPA.
CHAPTER I.
THE SCARECROW SISTER.
One morning little Miss Frizzle danced about her brother Preston, as he
was starting for school, saying,--
"If a little boy had one poggit full o' pinnuts, and one poggit full o'
canny, and one in his hands, how many would he be?"
This was a question in arithmetic; and, though Preston was a large boy,
he could not answer it.
"Answer it yourself," said he, laughing.
"He'd have fousands and fousands--as many as _four hundred_!" said
Flaxie, promptly.
"Shouldn't wonder! What's the need of my going to school, when I have a
little sister at home that knows so much?" cried Preston, kissing her
and hurrying away.
Flaxie wished he and her sister Julia--or Ninny, as she called
her--could stay with her all the time. She was lonesome when they were
both gone; and to-day her mamma said she must not go out of doors
because her throat was sore.
She stood for awhile by the kitchen window, looking at the meadow
behind the house. It was sprinkled all over with dandelions, so bright
and gay that Flaxie fancied they were laughing. _They_ didn't have
sore throats. O, no! they could stay out of doors all day long; and
so could the pretty brook; and so could the dog Rover; and the horses,
Whiz and Slowboy; and the two young colts.
By-and-by the colts came to the kitchen window, which was open, and put
in their noses to ask for something to eat. Flaxie gave them pieces of
bread, which Dora handed her; and they ate them, then ran out their
tongues and licked the window-sill, to be sure to get all the crumbs.
"What if they should bite you | 1,178.173345 |
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THE WORKS OF STANLEY J. WEYMAN
VOL. XX
THE WILD GEESE
Thin Paper Edition of
Stanley J. Weyman's Novels
(Author's Complete Edition)
In 20 Volumes
Arranged Chronologically
With an Introduction in the First
Volume by Mr. Weyman
In clear type and handy size
To range with Henry Seton Merriman's Novels
Fcap. 8vo, Gilt Top, in Cloth and Leather
Vol. 1. The House of the Wolf.
" 2. The New Rector.
" 3. The Story of Francis Cludde.
" 4. A Gentleman of France.
" 5. The Man in Black.
" 6. Under the Red Robe.
" 7. My Lady Rotha.
" 8. Memoirs of a Minister of France.
" 9. The Red Cockade.
" 10. Shrewsbury.
Vol. 11. The Castle Inn.
" 12. Sophia.
" 13. Count Hannibal.
" 14. In Kings' Byways.
" 15. The Long Night.
" 16. The Abbess of Vlaye.
" 17. Starvecrow Farm.
" 18. Chippinge.
" 19. Laid up in Lavender.
" 20. The Wild Geese.
LONDON:
SMITH, ELDER & CO. and
LONGMANS GREEN & CO.
THE WILD GEESE
BY
STANLEY J. WEYMAN
LONDON:
SMITH, ELDER & CO.
(_For the United Kingdom_)
IN CONJUNCTION WITH CASSELL AND CO., LTD.; HODDER AND
STOUGHTON; METHUEN AND CO., WARD, LOCK AND CO., AND
LONGMANS GREEN & CO.
(_For the British Possessions and Foreign Countries_)
1911
1908 July 1st Edition
" Aug. 2nd Impression
" Oct. 3rd Impression
1910 July 4th Impression
" Nov. 5th Impression
1911 Mar. 6d. Edition
" Oct. 6th (Author's Complete Edition)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ON BOARD THE "CORMORANT" SLOOP 1
II. MORRISTOWN 15
III. A SCION OF KINGS 27
IV. "STOP THIEF!" 42
V. THE MESS-ROOM AT TRALEE 57
VI. THE MAITRE D'ARMES 72
VII. BARGAINING 90
VIII. AN AFTER-DINNER GAME 103
IX. EARLY RISERS 119
X. A COUNCIL OF WAR 136
XI. A MESSAGE FOR THE YOUNG MASTER 154
XII. THE SEA MIST 171
XIII. A SLIP 187
XIV. THE COLONEL'S TERMS 202
XV. FEMINA FURENS 218
XVI. THE MARPLOT 235
XVII. THE LIMIT 251
XVIII. A COUNTERPLOT 268
XIX. PEINE FORTE ET DURE 285
XX. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 301
XXI. THE KEY 320
XXII. THE SCENE IN THE PASSAGE 336
XXIII. BEHIND THE YEWS 350
XXIV. THE PITCHER AT THE WELL 368
XXV. PEACE 378
CHAPTER I
ON BOARD THE "CORMORANT" SLOOP
Midway in that period of Ireland's history during which, according to
historians, the distressful country had none--to be more precise, on a
spring morning early in the eighteenth century, and the reign of George
the First, a sloop of about seventy tons burthen was beating up Dingle
Bay, in the teeth of a stiff easterly breeze. The sun was two hours
high, and the grey expanse of the bay was flecked with white horses
hurrying seaward in haste to leap upon the Blasquets, or to disport
themselves in the field of ocean. From the heaving deck of the vessel
the mountains that shall not be removed were visible--on the northerly
tack Brandon, on the southerly Carntual; the former sunlit, with
patches of moss gleaming like emeralds on its breast, the latter dark
and melancholy, clothed in the midst of tradition and fancy that in
those days garbed so much of Ireland's bog and hill.
The sloop had missed the tide, and, close hauled to the wind, rode deep
in the ebb, making little way with each tack. The breeze hummed through
the rigging. The man at the helm humped a shoulder to the sting of the
spray, and the rest of the crew, seven or eight in number--tarry,
pigtailed, outlandish sailor men--crouched under the windward rail. The
skipper sat with a companion on a coil of rope on the dry side of the
skylight, and at the moment at which our story opens was oblivious
alike of the weather and his difficulties. He sat with his eyes fixed
on his neighbour, and in those eyes a wondering, fatuous admiration. So
might a mortal look if some strange hap brought him face to face with a
centaur.
"Never?" he murmured respectfully.
"Never," his companion answered.
"My faith!" Captain Augustin rejoined. He was a cross between a
Frenchman and an Irishman. For twenty years he had carried wine to
Ireland, and returned laden with wool to Bordeaux or Cadiz. He knew
every inlet between Achill Sound and the Head of Kinsale, and was so
far a Jacobite that he scorned to pay duty to King George. "Never? My
faith!" he repeated, staring, if possible, harder than ever.
"No," said the Colonel. "Under no provocation, thank God!"
"But it's _drole_," Captain Augustin rejoined. "It would bother me
sorely to know what you do."
"What we all should do," his passenger answered gently. "Our duty,
Captain Augustin. Our duty! Doing which we are men indeed. Doing which,
we have no more to do, no more to fear, no more to question." And
Colonel John Sullivan threw out both his hands, as if to illustrate the
freedom from care which followed. "See! it is done!"
"But west of Shannon, where there is no law?" Augustin answered. "Eh,
Colonel? And in Kerry, where we'll be, the saints helping, before
noon--which is all one with Connaught? No, in Kerry, what with
Sullivans, and Mahonies, and O'Beirnes, that wear coats only for a
gentleman to tread upon, and would sooner shoot a friend before
breakfast than spend the day idle, _par ma foi_, I'm not seeing what | 1,178.274045 |
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from the Google Print project.)
HISTORY
OF
THE OPERA,
from its Origin in Italy to the present Time.
WITH ANECDOTES
OF THE MOST CELEBRATED COMPOSERS AND VOCALISTS OF EUROPE.
BY
SUTHERLAND EDWARDS,
AUTHOR OF "RUSSIANS AT HOME," ETC.
"QUIS TAM DULCIS SONUS QUI MEAS COMPLET AURES?"
"WHAT IS ALL THIS NOISE ABOUT?"
VOL. I. & VOL. II.
LONDON: WM. H. ALLEN & CO., 13, WATERLOO PLACE.
1862.
[_The right of translation and reproduction is reserved._]
LONDON: LEWIS AND SON, PRINTERS, SWAN BUILDINGS, (49) MOORGATE STREET.
CONTENTS VOLUME I.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Preface, Prelude, Prologue, Introduction, Overture, &c.--The
Origin of the Opera in Italy, and its introduction into Germany.--Its
History in Europe; Division of the subject 1
CHAPTER II.
Introduction of the Opera into France and England 12
CHAPTER III.
On the Nature of the Opera, and its Merits as compared with
other forms of the Drama 36
CHAPTER IV.
Introduction and progress of the Ballet 70
CHAPTER V.
Introduction of the Italian Opera into England 104
CHAPTER VI.
The Italian Opera under Handel 140
CHAPTER VII.
General view of the Opera in Europe in the Eighteenth Century,
until the appearance of Gluck 172
CHAPTER VIII.
French Opera from Lulli to the Death of Rameau 217
CHAPTER IX.
Rousseau as a Critic and as a Composer of Music 238
CHAPTER X.
Gluck and Piccinni in Paris 267
HISTORY OF THE OPERA.
CHAPTER I.
PREFACE, PRELUDE, PROLOGUE, INTRODUCTION, OVERTURE, ETC.--THE
ORIGIN OF THE OPERA IN ITALY, AND ITS INTRODUCTION INTO
GERMANY.--ITS HISTORY IN EUROPE; DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.
It has often been said, and notably, by J. J. Rousseau, and after him,
with characteristic exaggeration, by R. Wagner, that "Opera" does not
mean so much a musical work, as a musical, poetical, and spectacular
work all at once; that "Opera" in fact, is "the work," _par excellence_,
to the production of which all the arts are necessary.[1] The very
titles of the earliest operas prove this notion to be incorrect. The
earliest Italian plays of a mixed character, not being constructed
according to the ancient rules of tragedy and comedy, were called by the
general name of "Opera," the nature of the "work" being more
particularly indicated by some such epithet or epithets as _regia_,
_comica_, _tragica_, _scenica_, _sacra_, _esemplare_, _regia ed
esemplare_, _&c._; and in the case of a lyrical drama, the words _per
musica_, _scenica per musica_, _regia ed esemplare per musica_, were
added, or the production was styled _opera musicale_ alone. In time the
mixed plays (which were imitated from the Spanish) fell into disrepute
in Italy, while the title of "Opera" was still applied to lyrical
dramas, but not without "musicale," or "in musica" after it. This was
sufficiently vague, but people soon found it troublesome, or thought it
useless, to say _opera musicale_, when opera by itself conveyed, if it
did not express, their meaning, and thus dramatic works in music came to
be called "Operas." Algarotte's work on the Opera (translated into
French, and entitled _Essai sur l'Opéra_) is called in the original
_Saggio sopra l'Opera in musica_. "Opera in music" would in the present
day sound like a pleonasm, but it is as well to consider the true
meaning of words, when we find them not merely perverted, but in their
perverted sense made the foundation of ridiculous theories.
[Sidenote: THE FIRST OPERA]
The Opera proceeds from the sacred musical plays of the 15th century as
the modern drama proceeds from the mediæval mysteries. Ménestrier,
however, the Jesuit father, assigns to it a far greater antiquity, and
considers the Song of Solomon to be the earliest Opera on record,
founding his opinion on these words of St. Jérôme, translated from
Origen:--_Epithalamium, libellus, id est nuptiale carmen, in modum mihi
videtur dramatis a Solomone conscriptus quem cecinit instar nubentis
sponsæ_.[2]
Others see the first specimens of opera in the Greek plays; but the
earliest musical dramas of modern Italy, from which the Opera of the
present day is descended directly, and in an unbroken line, are
"mysteries" differing only from the dramatic mysteries in so far that
the dialogue in them was sung instead of being spoken. "The Conversion
of St. Paul" was played in music, at Rome, in 1440. The first profane
subject treated operatically, was the descent of Orpheus into hell; the
music of this _Orfeo_, which was produced also at Rome, in 1480, was by
Angelo Poliziano, the libretto by Cardinal Riario, nephew of Sixtus IV.
The popes kept up an excellent theatre, and Clement IX. was himself the
author of seven _libretti_.
At this time the great attraction in operatic representations was the
scenery--a sign of infancy then, as it is a sign of decadence now. At
the very beginning of the sixteenth century, Balthazar Peruzzi, the
decorator of the papal theatre, had carried his art to such perfection,
that the greatest painters of the day were astonished at his
performances. His representations of architecture and the illusions of
height and distance which his knowledge of perspective enabled him to
produce, were especially admired. Vasari has told us how Titian, at the
Palace of la Farnesina, was so struck by the appearance of solidity
given by Peruzzi to his designs in profile, that he was not satisfied,
until he had ascended a ladder and touched them, that they were not
actually in relief. "One can scarcely conceive," says the historian of
the painters, in speaking of Peruzzi's scenic decorations, "with what
ability, in so limited a space, he represented such a number of houses,
palaces, porticoes, entablatures, profiles, and all with such an aspect
of reality that the spectator fancied himself transported into the
middle of a public square, to such a point was the illusion carried.
Moreover, Balthazar, the better to produce these results, understood, in
an admirable manner the disposition of light as well as all the
machinery connected with theatrical changes and effects."
[Sidenote: DAFNE.]
In 1574, Claudio Merulo, organist at St. Mark's, of Venice, composed the
music of a drama by Cornelio Frangipani, which was performed in the
Venetian Council Chamber in presence of Henry III. of France. The music
of the operatic works of this period appears to have possessed but
little if any dramatic character, and to have consisted almost
exclusively of choruses in the madrigal style, which was so
successfully cultivated about the same time in England. Emilio del
Cavaliere, a celebrated musician of Rome, made an attempt to introduce
appropriateness of expression into these choruses, and his reform,
however incomplete, attracted the attention of Giovanni Bardi, Count of
Vernio. This nobleman used to assemble in his palace all the most
distinguished musicians of Florence, among whom were Mei, Caccini, and
Vincent Galileo, the father of the astronomer. Vincent Galileo was
himself a discoverer, and helped, at the Count of Vernio's musical
meetings, to invent recitative--an invention of comparative
insignificance, but which in the system of modern opera plays as
important a part, perhaps, as the rotation of the earth does in that of
the celestial spheres.
Two other Florentine noblemen, Pietro Strozzi and Giacomo Corsi,
encouraged by the example of Bardi, and determined to give the musical
drama its fullest development in the new form that it had assumed,
engaged Ottavio Rinuccini, one of the first poets of the period, with
Peri and Caccini, two of the best musicians, to compose an opera which
was entitled _Dafne_, and was performed for the first time in the Corsi
Palace, at Florence, in 1597.
_Dafne_ appears to have been the first complete opera. It was considered
a masterpiece both from the beauty of the music and from the interest of
the drama; and on its model the same authors composed their opera of
_Euridice_, which was represented publicly at Florence on the occasion
of the marriage of Henry IV. of France, with Marie de Medicis, in 1600.
Each of the five acts of _Euridice_ concludes with a chorus, the
dialogue is in recitative, and one of the characters, "Tircis," sings an
air which is introduced by an instrumental prelude.
New music was composed to the libretto of _Dafne_ by Gagliano in 1608,
when the opera thus rearranged was performed at Mantua; and in 1627 the
same piece was translated by Opitz, "the father of the lyric stage in
Germany," as he is called, set to music by Schutz, and represented at
Dresden on the occasion of the marriage of the Landgrave of Hesse with
the sister of John-George I., Elector of Saxony. It was not, however,
until 1692 that Keiser appeared and perfected the forms of the German
Opera. Keiser was scarcely nineteen years of age when he produced at the
Court of Wolfenbüttel, _Ismene_ and _Basilius_, the former styled a
Pastoral, the latter an opera. It is said reproachfully, and as if
facetiously, of a common-place German musician in the present day, that
he is "of the Wolfenbüttel school," just as it is considered comic in
France to taunt a singer or player with having come from Carpentras. It
is curious that Wolfenbüttel in Germany, and Carpentras in France (as I
shall show in the next chapter), were the cradles of Opera in their
respective countries.
[Sidenote: MONTEVERDE, AND HIS ORCHESTRA.]
To return to the Opera in Italy. The earliest musical drama, then, with
choruses, recitatives, airs, and instrumental preludes was _Dafne_, by
Rinuccini as librettist, and Caccini and Peri as composers; but the
orchestra which accompanied this work consisted only of a harpsichord, a
species of guitar called a chitarone, a lyre, and a lute. When
Monteverde appeared, he introduced the modern scale, and changed the
whole harmonic system of his predecessors. He at the same time gave far
greater importance in his operas to the accompaniments, and increased to
a remarkable extent the number of musicians in the orchestra, which
under his arrangement included every kind of instrument known at the
time. Many of Monteverde's instruments are now obsolete. This composer,
the unacknowledged prototype of our modern cultivators of orchestral
effects, made use of a separate combination of instruments to announce
the entry and return of each personage in his operas; a dramatic means
employed afterwards by Hoffmann in his _Undine_,[3] and in the present
day with pretended novelty by Richard Wagner. This newest orchestral
device is also the oldest. The score of Monteverde's _Orfeo_, produced
in 1608, contains parts for two harpsichords, two lyres or violas with
thirteen strings, ten violas, three bass violas, two double basses, a
double harp (with two rows of strings), two French violins, besides
guitars, organs, a flute, clarions, and even trom | 1,178.440167 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.5342710 | 2,071 | 8 |
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No.17 * EAGLE SERIES * NEW EDITION * 10 CENTS
LESLIE'S LOYALTY
By CHARLES GARVICE
[Illustration]
STREET & SMITH * PUBLISHERS * NEW YORK
_Copyright Fiction by the Best Authors_
NEW EAGLE SERIES
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The books in this line comprise an unrivaled collection of copyrighted
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are contained in this line exclusively. Every book in the New Eagle
Series is of generous length, of attractive appearance, and of
undoubted merit. No better literature can be had at any price. Beware
of imitations of the S. & S. novels, which are sold cheap because
their publishers were put to no expense in the matter of purchasing
manuscripts and making plates.
ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT
TO THE PUBLIC:--These books are sold by news dealers everywhere. If
your dealer does not keep them, and will not get them for you, send
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the price per copy to cover postage.
=Quo Vadis= (New Illustrated Edition) =By Henryk Sienkiewicz=
1--Queen Bess By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
2--Ruby's Reward By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
7--Two Keys By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
12--Edrie's Legacy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
44--That Dowdy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
55--Thrice Wedded By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
66--Witch Hazel By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
77--Tina By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
88--Virgie's Inheritance By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
99--Audrey's Recompense By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
111--Faithful Shirley By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
122--Grazia's Mistake By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
133--Max By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
144--Dorothy's Jewels By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
155--Nameless Dell By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
166--The Masked Bridal By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
177--A True Aristocrat By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
188--Dorothy Arnold's Escape By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
199--Geoffrey's Victory By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
210--Wild Oats By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
219--Lost, A Pearle By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
222--The Lily of Mordaunt By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
233--Nora By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
244--A Hoiden's Conquest By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
255--The Little Marplot By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
266--The Welfleet Mystery By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
277--Brownie's Triumph By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
282--The Forsaken Bride By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
288--Sibyl's Influence By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
291--A Mysterious Wedding Ring By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
299--Little Miss Whirlwind By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
311--Wedded by Fate By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
339--His Heart's Queen By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
351--The Churchyard Betrothal By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
362--Stella Rosevelt By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
372--A Girl in a Thousand By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
373--A Thorn Among Roses By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to "A Girl in a Thousand"
382--Mona By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
391--Marguerite's Heritage By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
399--Betsey's Transformation By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
407--Esther, the Fright By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
415--Trixy By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
419--The Other Woman By Charles Garvice
433--Winifred's Sacrifice By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
440--Edna's Secret Marriage By Charles Garvice
451--Helen's Victory By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
458--When Love Meets Love By Charles Garvice
476--Earle Wayne's Nobility By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
511--The Golden Key By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
512--A Heritage of Love By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to "The Golden Key"
519--The Magic Cameo By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
520--The Heatherford Fortune By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
Sequel to "The Magic Cameo"
531--Better Than Life By Charles Garvice
537--A Life's Mistake By Charles Garvice
542--Once in a Life By Charles Garvice
548--'Twas Love's Fault By Charles Garvice
553--Queen Kate By Charles Garvice
554--Step by Step By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
555--Put to the Test By Ida Reade Allen
556--With Love's Aid By Wenona Gilman
557--In Cupid's Chains By Charles Garvice
558--A Plunge Into the Unknown By Richard Marsh
559--The Love That Was Cursed By Geraldine Fleming
560--The Thorns of Regret By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
561--The Outcast of the Family By Charles Garvice
562--A Forced Promise By Ida Reade Allen
563--The Old Homestead By Denman Thompson
564--Love's First Kiss By Emma Garrison Jones
565--Just a Girl By Charles Garvice
566--In Love's Springtime By Laura Jean Libbey
567--Trixie's Honor By Geraldine Fleming
568--Hearts and Dollars By Ida Reade Allen
569--By Devious Ways By Charles Garvice
570--Her Heart's Unbidden Guest By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
571--Two Wild Girls By Mrs. Charlotte May Kingsley
572--Amid Scarlet Roses By Emma Garrison Jones
573--Heart for Heart By Charles Garvice
574--The Fugitive Bride By Mary E. Bryan
575--A Blue Grass Heroine By Ida Reade Allen
576--The Yellow Face By Fred M. White
577--The Story of a Passion By Charles Garvice
579--The Curse of Beauty By Geraldine Fleming
580--The Great Awakening By E. Phillips Oppenheim
581--A Modern Juliet By Charles Garvice
582--Virgie Talcott's Mission By Lucy M. Russell
583--His Greatest Sacrifice; or, Manch By Mary E. Bryan
584--Mabel's Fate By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
585--The Ape and the Diamond By Richard Marsh
586--Nell, of Shorne Mills By Charles Garvice
587--Katherine's Two Suitors By Geraldine Fleming
588--The Crime of Love By Barbara Howard
589--His Father's Crime By E. Phillips Oppenheim
590--What Was She to Him? By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
591--A Heritage of Hate By Charles Garvice
592--Ida Chaloner's Heart By Lucy Randall Comfort
593--Love Will Find the Way By Wenona Gilman
594--A Case of Identity By Richard Marsh
595--The Shadow of Her Life By Charles Garvice
596--Slighted Love By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
597--Her Fatal Gift By Geraldine Fleming
598--His Wife's Friend By Mary E. Bryan
599--At Love's Cost By Charles Garvice
600--St. Elmo By Augusta J. Evans
601--The Fate of the Plotter By Louis Tracy
602--Married in Error By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller
603--Love and Jealousy By Lucy Randall Comfort
604--Only a Working Girl By Geraldine Fleming
605--Love, the | 1,178.554311 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.7038400 | 1,746 | 23 |
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made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
ROBINSON CRUSOE'S MONEY;
Or, the
Remarkable Financial Fortunes and Misfortunes
of a Remote Island Community.
By
DAVID A. WELLS,
Late U. S. Special Commissioner of Revenue.
"It requires a great deal of
philosophy to observe once
what may be seen every day."
--Rousseau.
New York:
Harper & Brothers, Publishers,
Franklin Square.
1876.
PREFACE.
The origin of this little book is as follows: Some months ago, the
expediency was suggested to the author, by certain prominent friends
of hard money in this country, of preparing for popular reading--and
possibly for political campaign purposes--a little tract, or essay,
in which the elementary principles underlying the important subjects
of money and currency should be presented and illustrated from the
simplest A B C stand-point. That such a work was desirable, and that
none of the very great number of speeches and essays already published
on these topics in all respects answered the existing requirement,
was admitted; but how to invest subjects, so often discussed, and so
commonly regarded as dry and abstract, with sufficient new interest
to render them at once attractive and intelligible to those whose
tastes disincline them to close reasoning and investigation, was a
matter not easy to determine.
At last the old idea--recognized in fables, allegories, and
parables--of making a story the medium for communicating instruction,
suggested itself; and, in accordance with the suggestion, a remote
island community has been imagined, in which, starting from conditions
but one remove from barbarism, but gradually rising to a high
degree of civilization, the progress, the use, and the abuse of the
instrumentalities and mechanism of exchange--through barter, money,
and currency--have been traced consecutively; and the effect of the
application of not a few of the most popular fiscal recommendations
and theories of the day practically worked out and recorded. And,
in carrying out this scheme, the reader will not fail to perceive, by
reference to the marginal notes accompanying the text, that hardly an
absurdity in reference to exchange, money, or currency can be imagined,
which somewhere and at some time has not had its exact counterpart
in actual history or experience.
If any apology for the objects designed or the course pursued is
needed, the author thinks he finds it in the precedent established
by the illustrious Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., who, in the introduction
to his "Tales of a Traveler," thus happily sets forth the special
advantage which accrues from the proper employment of a story as a
means of communicating information. "I am not," he says, "for those
barefaced tales which carry their moral on their surface, staring one
in the face; on the contrary, I have often hid my moral from sight,
and disguised it as much as possible by sweets and spices; so that
while the simple reader is listening with open mouth to a ghost or
love story, he may have a bolus of sound morality popped down his
throat, and be never the wiser for the fraud."
Whether in "Robinson Crusoe's Money" the author shall succeed in
inducing his fellow-countrymen--to whom the ordinary currency medicine
is becoming distasteful--to swallow without wry faces the same dose
sugar-coated, remains to be determined.
Norwich, Conn., January, 1876.
CONTENTS.
Chapter I. Page
The Three Great Bags of Money 11
Chapter II.
A New Social Order of Things 13
Chapter III.
The Period of Barter 15
Chapter IV.
How They Invented Money 20
Chapter V.
How the People on the Island and Elsewhere Learned Wisdom 26
Chapter VI.
Gold, and How they Came to Use It 33
Chapter VII.
How the Islanders Determined to be an Honest and Free People 50
Chapter VIII.
How the People on the Island Came to Use Currency in the Place of
Money 55
Chapter IX.
War with the Cannibals, and What Came of It 60
Chapter X.
After the War 72
Chapter XI.
The New Millennium 83
Chapter XII.
Getting Sober 108
ROBINSON CRUSOE'S MONEY.
CHAPTER I.
THE THREE GREAT BAGS OF MONEY.
All who have read "Robinson Crusoe" (and who has not?) will remember
the circumstance of his opening, some time after he had become
domiciled on his desolate island, one of the chests that had come
to him from the ship. In it he found pins, needles and thread, a
pair of large scissors, "ten or a dozen good knives," some cloth,
about a dozen and a half of white linen handkerchiefs concerning
which he remarks, "They were exceedingly refreshing to wipe my face
on a warm day;" and, finally, hidden away in the till of the chest,
"three great bags of money--gold as well as silver."
The finding of all these articles--the money excepted--it will be
further remembered, greatly delighted the heart of Crusoe; inasmuch
as they increased his store of useful things, and therefore increased
his comfort and happiness. But in respect to the money the case was
entirely different. It was a thing to him, under the circumstances,
absolutely worthless, and over its presence and finding he soliloquized
as follows: "I smiled at myself at the sight of all this money. 'Oh,
drug!' said I, aloud, 'what art thou good for? Thou art not worth to
me, no, not the taking off the ground. One of these knives is worth
all this heap. Nay, I would give it all for a gross of tobacco-pipes;
for sixpenny-worth of turnip and carrot seed from England; or for a
handful of pease and beans, and a bottle of ink.'"
In introducing this episode in the life of his hero, nothing was
probably further from the thought of the author, De Foe, than the
intent to give his readers a lesson in political economy. And yet it
would be difficult to find an illustration which conveys in so simple
a manner to him who reflects upon it so much of information in respect
to the nature of that which is popularly termed "wealth;" or so good
a basis for reasoning correctly in respect to the origin and function
of that which we call "money." And in such reasoning, the truth of
the following propositions is too evident to require demonstration:
1st. The pins and needles, the scissors, knives, and cloth were of
great utility to Robinson Crusoe, because their possession satisfied
a great desire on his part to have them, and greatly increased his
comfort and happiness.
2d. Possessing utility, they nevertheless possessed no exchangeable
value, because they could not be bought or sold, or, what is the same
thing, exchanged with any body for any thing.
3d. They had, moreover, no price, for they had no purchasing power
which could be expressed as money.
4th. The money, which is popularly regarded as the symbol and the
concentration of all wealth, had, under the circumstances, neither
utility, value, nor price. It could not be eaten, drunk, worn, used as
a tool, or exchanged with any body for any thing, and fully merited
the appellation which Crusoe in another place gives it, of "sorry,
worthless stuff."
Finally, the pins, needles, knives, cloth, and scissors were all
capital to Robinson Crusoe, because they were all instrumentalities
capable of being used to produce something additional, to him useful
or desirable. The money was not capital, under the circumstances,
because it could not be used to produce | 1,178.72388 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.7532100 | 1,633 | 13 |
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NICANOR TELLER OF TALES
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: "In a physical ecstasy he spoke out that which clamored
at his lips." (Page 44)]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
NICANOR
TELLER OF TALES
A Story
Of Roman Britain
By
C. BRYSON TAYLOR
Author Of
"In The Dwellings Of The Wilderness"
Having Pictures and Designs by
Troy and Margaret West Kinney
Chicago
A. C. Mcclurg & Co.
1906
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1906
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England
All rights reserved
Published April 28, 1906
Typography by The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A.
Presswork by The Lakeside Press, Chicago, U.S.A.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
C. H. B.
To you, whose love did come
And oft did sing to me,
When I was working in the furrows.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
BOOK I PAGE
THE MANTLE OF MELCHIOR...................... 1
BOOK II
THE GARDEN OF DREAMS...................... 59
BOOK III
PAWNS AND PLAYERS ....................... 119
BOOK IV
THE LORD'S DAUGHTER AND THE ONE WHO WENT IN CHAINS....... 207
BOOK V
THE NIGHT AND THE DAWNING ................... 295
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
ILLUSTRATIONS
Page
"In a physical ecstasy he spoke out that which
clamored on his lips" [Page 44] Frontispiece
"'Were I that woman, I should have wanted to
love him'" [Page 85] 72
"'You sent for me, Lady Varia?'" [Page 152] 176
"Half a dozen young beauties had taken possession,--girls
of the haughtiest blood in Britain" [Page 240] 254
"The sight burst upon him in all its hideousness--where
had been the stately mansion of his lord" [Page 344] 364
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
CHARACTERS
EUDEMIUS, a Roman lord living in Britain
VARIA, his daughter
LIVINIUS, a Roman citizen, a boyhood friend of Eudemius
MARIUS, his son, of the Roman legions in Gaul
MARCUS SILENUS POMPONIUS, Count of the Saxon Shore }
AURELIUS MENOTUS, duumvir of Anderida } Guests of
FELIX, his son } Eudemius
CAIUS JULIUS VALENS, a Roman citizen }
JULIA }
NIGIDIA } Roman girls, daughters of the
PAULA } guests of Eudemius
GRATIA }
NERISSA, nurse to Varia
HITO, master of the household of Eudemius
CHLORIS, of all nations, living upon Thorney
SADA, a Saxon } inmates of her house
EUNICE, a Greek }
ELDRIS, a Briton, a convert to Christianity
WARDO, a Saxon, a slave in the house of Eudemius
VALERIUS, a Roman, a soldier of fortune
TOBIAS, a Hebrew, a worker in ivory
RATHUMUS, a British peasant, bound to the soil
SUSANNA, a Hebrew woman, his wife
NICANOR, a story-teller, their son
WULF, the Red, a Saxon free-lance
CEAWLIN, a Saxon chieftain
FATHER AMBROSE, of the Christian church
NICODEMUS, the One-Eyed, a British freedman
MYLEIA, his wife
MARCUS, a slave in the house of Eudemius
BALBUS, a convict
JUNCINA, a fish-wife on Thorney
SOSIA, her daughter
A flower-girl, a Saxon singer, slaves, trades-folk, soldiers of the
military police; guards and overseers of the mines, and miners;
Roman nobles and patrician women; Saxon men-at-arms, and men of the
outland nations
Scene: Britain in the last days of Roman power
Time: between A.D. 410 and 446
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
LIST OF TOWNS AND RIVERS
WITH THEIR MODERN SITES AND NAMES
Abus Flumen Humber River.
Ad Fines Broughing, Hertfordshire.
Anderida Pevensey.
Aquae Solis Bath.
Bibracte _Unknown_.
Caledonia Scotland.
Calleva Silchester.
Corinium Cirencester.
Cunetio Folly Farm, near Marlborough.
Deva Chester.
Dubrae Dover.
Eboracum York.
Gobannium Abergavenny.
Glevum Gloucester.
Isca Silurum Carleon.
Leucarum Llychwr, county of Glamorgan.
Londinium London.
Noviomagus Holwood Hill, parish of Bromley.
Pontes Staines
Portus Magnus Porchester.
Ratae Leicester.
Regnum Chichester.
Rutupiae Richborough
Sabrina Flumen Severn River.
Serica China.
Tamesis Flumen Thames River.
Tripontium _Near_ Lilburne.
Uriconium Wroxeter.
Urus Flumen Ouse River.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MANTLE OF MELCHIOR
BOOK I
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
NICANOR: TELLER OF TALES
Book I
THE MANTLE OF MELCHIOR
I
Nicanor the story-teller was the son of Rathumus the wood-cutter, who
was the son of Razis the worker in bronze, who was the son of Melchior
the story-teller. So that Nicanor came honestly by his gift, and would
even believe that his great-grandsire had handed it down to him by
special act of bequest.
Now Rathumus the wood-cutter, tall and gaunt and fierce-eyed, coming
home with his fagots on his shoulder in the gloam of the evening, when
the fireflies twinkled low among the marshes, saw Nicanor on the side of
the hill against the sky, sitting with hands clasped about his knees,
crooning to the stars. Rathumus bowed his head and entered his house,
and to Susanna, his wife, he said:
"The gift of our father Melchior hath fallen upon the child. I have seen
it coming this long, long while. Now he singeth to the stars. When they
have heard him and have taught him, he will go and sing to men. He is
our child no longer, wife. His life hath claimed him."
Susanna, the mother, said:
"He will be a man among men. He will be a great man among great men. | 1,178.77325 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.7601080 | 336 | 11 |
Produced by Robert J. Hall
THE ANCIENT LIFE-HISTORY OF THE EARTH
A COMPREHENSIVE OUTLINE OF THE PRINCIPLES AND LEADING FACTS OF
PALAEONTOLOGICAL SCIENCE
BY H. ALLEYNE NICHOLSON
M.D., D.SC., M.A., PH. D. (GOeTT), F.R.S.E, F.L.S.
PROFESSOR OF NATURAL HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST ANDREWS
PREFACE.
The study of Palaeontology, or the science which is concerned
with the living beings which flourished upon the globe during
past periods of its history, may be pursued by two parallel but
essentially distinct paths. By the one method of inquiry, we may
study the anatomical characters and structure of the innumerable
extinct forms of life which lie buried in the rocks simply as
so many organisms, with but a slight and secondary reference
to the _time_ at which they lived. By the other method, fossil
animals are regarded principally as so many landmarks in the
ancient records of the world, and are studied _historically_
and as regards their relations to the chronological succession
of the strata in which they are entombed. In so doing, it is of
course impossible to wholly ignore their structural characters,
and their relationships with animals now living upon the earth;
but these points are held to occupy a subordinate place, and to
require nothing more than a comparatively general attention.
In a former work, the Author has endeavoured to furnish a summary
of | 1,178.780148 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.9413380 | 3,360 | 130 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
The Badminton Library
OF
SPORTS AND PASTIMES
EDITED BY
HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G.
ASSISTED BY ALFRED E. T. WATSON
_BIG GAME SHOOTING_
II.
[Illustration: HAND TO HAND WORK]
BIG GAME SHOOTING
BY
CLIVE PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY
WITH CONTRIBUTIONS BY
LIEUT.-COLONEL R. HEBER PERCY, ARNOLD PIKE,
MAJOR ALGERNON C. HEBER PERCY, W. A. BAILLIE-GROHMAN,
SIR HENRY POTTINGER, BART., EARL OF KILMOREY, ABEL CHAPMAN,
WALTER J. BUCK, AND ST. GEORGE LITTLEDALE
[Illustration]
VOL. II.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES WHYMPER
AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS_
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1894
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ARCTIC HUNTING
_By Arnold Pike._ 1
II. THE CAUCASUS
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 22
III. MOUNTAIN GAME OF THE CAUCASUS
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 48
IV. CAUCASIAN AUROCHS
_By St. G. Littledale._ 65
V. OVIS ARGALI OF MONGOLIA
_By St. G. Littledale._ 73
VI. THE CHAMOIS
_By W. A. Baillie-Grohman._ 77
VII. THE STAG OF THE ALPS
_By W. A. Baillie-Grohman._ 112
VIII. THE SCANDINAVIAN ELK
_By Sir Henry Potlinger, Bart._ 123
IX. EUROPEAN BIG GAME
_By Major Algernon Heber Percy, and the Earl of Kilmorey._ 154
X. THE LARGE GAME OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL
_By Abel Chapman and W. J. Buck._ 174
XI. INDIAN SHOOTING
_By Lieut.-Col. Reginald Heber Percy._ 182
XII. THE OVIS POLI OF THE PAMIR
_By St. G. Littledale._ 363
XIII. CAMPS, TRANSPORT, ETC.
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 377
XIV. A FEW NOTES ON RIFLES AND AMMUNITION
_By H. W. H._ 394
XV. HINTS ON TAXIDERMY, ETC.
_By Clive Phillipps-Wolley._ 413
A SHORT BIBLIOGRAPHY 421
INDEX 425
ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME
(_Reproduced by Messrs. Walker & Boutall_)
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
ARTIST
HAND TO HAND WORK _C. Whymper_ _Frontispiece_
DEATH OF A POLAR BEAR ” _to face p._ 16
THE CORPSE ROCKS _C. Whymper_ ” 20
MR. ST. G. LITTLEDALE’S CAUCASIAN } _From a photograph_ ” 36
BAG FOR THE SEASON OF 1887 }
‘STANDING LIKE STATUES’ _C. Whymper_ ” 48
IBEX (_Hircus ægagrus_) ” ” 52
THE SPECTRE ” ” 62
CHAMOIS {_From an instantaneous_} ” 80
{_photograph_ }
SPANISH IBEX {_C. W., after a sketch_} ” 180
{ _by A. Chapman_ }
THE FIRST STALK OF THE SEASON ” ” 184
A FAIR CHANCE AT BLACK BEARS _C. Whymper_ ” 186
‘THE FRONT RANK AND PART OF THE } ” ” 208
SECOND ALONE STOOD FIRM’ }
A CHARGING GAUR ” 242
A SNAP-SHOT IN THE FOREST _Major H. Jones_ ” 278
‘WITH CARTRIDGES HANDY AND STEADY } ” 322
SHOOTING’ }
MR. ST. GEORGE LITTLEDALE’S BAG OF } _From a photograph_ ” 374
OVIS POLI, 1888 }
THE CAMP _C. Whymper_ ” 378
WOODCUTS IN TEXT.
ARTIST
AMONG THE ICE _C. Whymper_ 1
A WALRUS’ HEAD { _From a photograph_ } 5
{ _after Mr. Lamont_ }
WHERE TO SHOOT A WALRUS 7
WAITING FOR THE DAWN _C. Whymper_ 27
THE BOAR’S CHARGE 33
A GUTTUROSA 45
DEAD AUROCHS {_After a photograph_} 65
{_from Nature_ }
THE SPY CHAMOIS 79
EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN I. CHAMOIS } _After Theuerdank_ 110
HUNTING, A.D. 1500 }
ANTLERS OF STAGS KILLED AT RADAUC, }
IN THE PILIS MOUNTAINS AND THE } 115
JOLSVA ESTATES }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF SCANDINAVIAN ELKS _From a photograph_ 129
STALKING ELK _C. Whymper_ 152
‘THIS TIME HIS SIDE WAS TOWARDS ME’ ” 158
GROUP OF AUROCHS ” 168
AUROCHS’ HEADS {_C. W., from a_} 171
{_photograph_ }
THE LYNX (_Felis pardina_) _C. Whymper_ 174
SNOW-BEARS _Major H. Jones_ 187
A GLORIFIED COMET {_C. W., after sketches_} 189
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
HOWDAH SHOOTING 196
LANDING A GHAYAL 239
‘HE GAVE HIM A TREMENDOUS PUNISHING’ 255
HOGDEER SHOOTING 262
RUCERVUS DUVAUCELLI _From a photograph_ 266
RUCERVUS SCHOMBURGKII 267
PANOLIA ELDII 269
A STALK IN THE OPEN {_C.W., after Major_} 281
{_H. Jones_ }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF OVIS POLI AND } _From photographs_ 292
OVIS KARELINI }
SPECIMEN HEADS OF OVIS AMMON AND } 293
OVIS NIVICOLA }
THE ASTOR MARKHOR {_C. W., after sketch_} 310
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
VARIETIES OF MARKHOR _From photograph_ 312
IN HIS SUMMER COAT _C. Whymper_ 318
SPECIMEN HEADS OF CAPRA SIBIRICA, } _From photograph_ 322
CAPRA ÆGAGRUS, AND CAPRA SINAITICA}
A DREAM OF THER SHOOTING {_C. W., after sketch_} 326
{_by Capt. Rawlinson_ }
THE SEROW GALLOPS DOWN HILL _C. Whymper_ 333
BUDORCAS TAXICOLOR _From photograph_ 335
SAIGA TARTARICA 345
TAME DECOYS _C. Whymper_ 351
OVIS POLI ” 363
OUR CAMP 367
DEAD OVIS POLI 376
CINCH HIM UP 381
KNIFE FASTENING 388
‘GOOD-BYE TO THE GROCERIES’ 391
SPECIMENS OF 340, 360, 440, AND } _From a photograph._ 395
460 GRAIN EXPRESS BULLETS }
SPECIMENS OF.500 AND.577 BORE EXPRESS BULLETS 396
SPECIMENS OF.450 AND.577 BORE EXPRESS BULLETS 397
SPECIMENS OF SOFT.577 BULLETS 398
SPECIMENS OF 12-BORE ‘PARADOX’ BULLETS 400
DIAGRAM SHOWING SIX SHOTS WITH 10 BORE }
AND 8-BORE ‘PARADOX’ } 400
DIAGRAM OF 8-BORE ‘PARADOX’ BULLET 401
SIR SAMUEL BAKER’S STRENGTHENED STOCK 406
RIFLE LOOPS 407
‘SHIKARI’ RIFLE CASE 408
BACK SIGHTS 408
WHEN THE LIGHT WANES _C. Whymper._ 414
WAPITI HEAD 419
BIG GAME SHOOTING
CHAPTER I
ARCTIC HUNTING
BY ARNOLD PIKE
[Illustration: Among the ice]
Arctic hunting embraces an enormous field, the extent of which is not
yet realised, and I should begin by remarking that my experience, as
here set forth, is limited to the seas around Spitzbergen, and that I
propose to confine myself to the pursuit of the walrus and the polar
bear.
Although the vast herds of walrus which formerly inhabited the
Spitzbergen and Novaya Zemlya seas have been sadly thinned by
persistent--and often wasteful--hunting, first by the English and Dutch
in the early part of the seventeenth century, then by the Russians,
and at the present day by the Norwegians, yet enough may still be
killed in a season’s hunting to satisfy most sportsmen. The fact that
the expeditions after walrus and polar bear which are made to these
waters are often partially, or wholly, unsuccessful is due not to the
scarcity of game but to the manner in which it is sought. The sportsman
usually sails in a yacht--a vessel totally unfit for the work before
her--and at Tromsö or Hammerfest picks up an ice pilot, who is also
supposed to show where sport is to be obtained, at a season of the year
when all the best men are engaged to, or have already sailed with, the
professional walrus hunters. The consequences are that the voyage is
confined to the open, and therefore easily navigated, waters of the
western coast of Spitzbergen, or else that if good hunting grounds are
visited much of the game is not seen; for no matter how keen a look-out
a man may keep, he is sure to pass over game if he is not used to
hunting, and does not know exactly what to look for and where to look
for it.
The best way, therefore, in the writer’s opinion, is for the sportsman
to hire one of the small vessels engaged in the trade, sailing either
from Hammerfest or Tromsö (preferably from the latter port). He
could hire a walrus sloop of about forty tons burden for the season,
completely fitted out with all the necessary gear and boats, and a
crew of nine men (seven before the mast) for about 450l. This amount
would cover everything except tinned soups, meat, &c., for his own
consumption; and the expenditure is not all dead loss, for if he allows
one boat’s crew to regularly hunt seal, whilst he devotes himself
principally to bear and walrus, he will probably realise a sum by the
sale of skins and blubber, at the conclusion of the voyage, which will
meet the greater portion, if not the whole, of the amount paid for the
hire of the vessel. There is no difficulty in disposing of the ‘catch.’
If, however, a sportsman decides to go in his own yacht, with an
English crew, he should engage during the winter, through the British
vice-consul at Tromsö, a good harpooner and three men used to arctic
work, and buy a hunting boat (fangstbaad), to the use of which they
are accustomed, together with the necessary harpoons, lines, lances,
knives, &c.
In either case he should sail from Tromsö early in May if bound for
Spitzbergen, where he would in ordinary seasons be able to hunt until
the middle of September. In that time, with fair luck, he may expect
to kill from five to ten bears, about twenty walrus, thirty reindeer,
and from three to four hundred seals. If only small attention is
paid to the seals, the number of walrus and bear obtained should be
considerably larger.
No especial personal outfit is necessary.
As most of the shooting will be done from a boat that is seldom
stationary, the rifle to which the sportsman is most accustomed is
the best. A.450 Express, with solid hardened bullet for walrus,
and ‘small-holed’ for bear, is a very good weapon. A fowling-piece
for geese and a small-bore rifle for practice at seals would also
be useful. Whatever weapons are taken, they should be of simple
construction and strongly made, for they are liable to receive hard
knocks in the rough, wet work incidental to walrus hunting.
As regards clothing, a light- stalking suit (the writer prefers
grey), underclothing of the same weight as the sportsman is accustomed
to wear during an English winter, and knee-boots, will answer every
purpose. For hand covering the mittens (‘vanter’) used by the Norwegian
fishermen are most suitable. The sportsman had better lay in his stock
of canned provisions and tea in | 1,178.961378 |
2023-11-16 18:36:42.9423920 | 7,427 | 13 |
Produced by Merv McConnel, Christine P. Travers and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net;
This file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected.
Hyphenation and accentuation have been standardised, all
other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling
has been maintained.
Page 365, 299 mm. is probably an error for.299-in.
Page 399, "could reach effectively the trenches of the
Russians" should probably be "could reach effectively the trenches of the
Austrians".]
THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR
History of the European War from Official Sources
Complete Historical Records of Events to Date,
Illustrated with Drawings, Maps, and Photographs
Prefaced by
What the War Means to America
Major General Leonard Wood, U.S.A.
Naval Lessons of the War
Rear Admiral Austin M. Knight, U.S.N.
The World's War
Frederick Palmer
Theatres of the War's Campaigns
Frank H. Simonds
The War Correspondent
Arthur Ruhl
Edited by
Francis J. Reynolds
Former Reference Librarian of Congress
Allen L. Churchill
Associate Editor, The New International Encyclopedia
Francis Trevelyan Miller
Editor in Chieft, Photographic History of the Civil War
P. F. Collier & Son Company
New York
[Illustration: _A great French siege gun in action near the
much-contested battle field of Arras. During the terrific explosion the
gunners cover their ears._]
THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR
THE WAR BEGINS
INVASION OF BELGIUM
BATTLE OF THE MARNE
CRACOW. WARSAW
POLISH CAMPAIGN
WAR IN EAST PRUSSIA
VOLUME II
P. F. Collier & Son. New York
Copyright 1916
By P. F. Collier & Son
CONTENTS
PART I.--GREAT BATTLES OF THE WESTERN ARMIES
CHAPTER Page
I. Attack on Belgium 9
II. Siege and Capture of Liege 12
III. Belgium's Defiance 23
IV. Capture of Louvain--Surrender of Brussels 27
V. Coming of the British 33
VI. Campaigns in Alsace and Lorraine 38
VII. Siege and Fall of Namur 45
VIII. Battle of Charleroi 54
IX. Battle of Mons 60
X. The Great Retreat Begins 68
XI. Fighting at Bay 79
XII. The Marne--General Plan of Battle Field 87
XIII. Allied and German Battle Plans 95
XIV. First Moves in the Battle 101
XV. German Retreat 111
XVI. Continuation of the Battle of the Marne 116
XVII. Continuation of the Battle of the Marne 119
XVIII. Other Aspects of the Battle of the Marne 126
XIX. "Crossing the Aisne" 130
XX. First Day's Battles 135
XXI. The British at the Aisne 140
XXII. Bombardment of Rheims and Soissons 146
XXIII. Second Phase of Battle of the Aisne 149
XXIV. End of the Battle 153
XXV. "The Race to the Sea" 158
XXVI. Siege and Fall of Antwerp 160
XXVII. Yser Battles--Attack on Ypres 168
XXVIII. Attacks of La Bassee and Arras 177
XXIX. General Movements on the French and Flanders Fronts 181
XXX. Operations Around La Bassee and Givenchy 187
XXXI. End of Six Months' Fighting in the West 193
PART II.--NAVAL OPERATIONS
XXXII. Strength of the Rival Navies 196
XXXIII. First Blood--Battle of the Bight 208
XXXIV. Battles on Three Seas 219
XXXV. The German Sea Raiders 225
XXXVI. Battle Off the Falklands 230
XXXVII. Sea Fights of the Ocean Patrol 237
XXXVIII. War on German Trade and Possessions 242
XXXIX. Raids on the English Coast 245
XL. Results of Six Months' Naval Operations 258
PART III.--THE WAR ON THE EASTERN FRONT
XLI. General Characteristics of the Theatre of Warfare 261
XLII. The Strategic Value of Russian Poland 268
XLIII. Austrian Poland, Galicia, and Bukowina 272
XLIV. The Balkans--Countries and Peoples 275
XLV. The Caucasus--The Barred Door 286
PART IV.--THE AUSTRO-SERBIAN CAMPAIGN
XLVI. Serbia's Situation and Resources 291
XLVII. Austria's Strength and Strategy 298
XLVIII. Austrian Successes 301
XLIX. The Great Battles Begin 305
L. First Victory of the Serbians 310
PART V.--THE AUSTRO-SERBIAN CAMPAIGN
LI. Results of First Battles 321
LII. Serbian Attempt to Invade Austrian Territory 323
LIII. Austria's Second Invasion 329
LIV. End of Second Invasion--Beginning of Third 331
LV. Preliminary Austrian Successes 335
LVI. Crisis of the Campaign--Austrian Defeat 339
LVII. The Fate of Belgrade 345
LVIII. Attempts to Retake Belgrade 348
LIX. Serbians Retake the City--End of Third Invasion 353
LX. Montenegro in the War 358
PART VI.--AUSTRO-RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN
LXI. Strength and Equipment of the Antagonists 362
LXII. General Strategy of the Campaign 371
LXIII. Austria Takes the Offensive 376
LXIV. A Cautious Russian Advance -- Russian Successes --
Capture of Lemberg 379
LXV. Dankl's Offensive and Retreat 390
LXVI. Battle of Rawa-Russka 395
LXVII. Russian Victories--Battles of the San 398
LXVIII. Summary of Operations of September, 1914 403
LXIX. Investiture of Przemysl 405
LXX. Austrian Retreat Begins 410
LXXI. Fighting at Cracow 416
LXXII. Austrians Again Assume the Offensive 423
PART VII.--RUSSO-GERMAN CAMPAIGN
LXXIII. First Clash on Prussian Frontier 430
LXXIV. Advance of Russians Against the Germans 435
LXXV. Battle of Tannenberg and Russian Retreat 438
LXXVI. Second Russian Invasion of East Prussia 446
LXXVII. First German Drive Against Warsaw 450
LXXVIII. German Retreat from Russian Poland 458
LXXIX. Winter Battles of the Polish Campaign 462
LXXX. Winter Battles in East Prussia 478
LXXXI. Results of First Six Months of Russo-German
Campaign 482
PART VIII.--TURKEY AND THE DARDANELLES
LXXXII. First Moves of Turkey 493
LXXXIII. The First Blow Against the Allies 501
LXXXIV. British Campaign in Mesopotamia 506
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
French Siege Gun at Arras _Frontispiece_
Opposite Page
Bridge Destroyed by the Belgians at Liege 14
General Joffre 78
Germans Refortifying Antwerp 158
Emden Aground After the Sydney's Victory 222
Wreck of the Bluecher in the North Sea Battle 254
Serbian Infantrymen on Their Way to the Front 302
General von Hindenburg 382
Gerdauen, East Prussia, Destroyed in Russian Invasion 478
LIST OF MAPS
Page
Peace Distribution of Army Corps and Naval Stations of Belligerent
Powers (_Colored Map_) _Front Insert_
France, Pictorial Map of 11
Belgium, Beginning of German Invasion of 17
Alsace-Lorraine, French Invasion of 51
Battle of Mons and Retreat of Allied Armies 71
Battle of the Marne--Beginning on September 5, 1914 89
Battle of the Marne--Situation on September 9, 1914 98
Battle of the Marne--End of German Retreat and the Intrenched
Line on the Aisne River 107
Liege Fort, German Attack of 162
Antwerp, Siege and Fall of 162
Flanders, Battle Front in 173
German and English Naval Positions 199
War in the East--Relation of the Eastern Countries to Germany 263
The Balkans, Pictorial Map of 293
Serbian and Austrian Invasions 296
Russia, Pictorial Map of 364
Galicia, Russian Invasion of 367
Battle of Tannenberg 440
[Illustration: Peace Distribution of Army Corps and Naval
Stations of Belligerent Powers.]
PART I--GREAT BATTLES OF THE WESTERN ARMIES
CHAPTER I
ATTACK ON BELGIUM
The first great campaign on the western battle grounds in the European
War began on August 4, 1914. On this epoch-making day the German army
began its invasion of Belgium--with the conquest of France as its
ultimate goal. Six mighty armies stood ready for the great invasion.
Their estimated total was 1,200,000 men. Supreme over all was the
Emperor as War Lord, but Lieutenant General Helmuth von Moltke, chief of
the General Staff, was the practical director of military operations.
General von Moltke was a nephew of the great strategist of 1870, and his
name possibly appealed as of happy augury for repeating the former
capture of Paris.
The First Army was assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle in the north of Belgium,
within a few miles of the Dutch frontier. It was under the command of
General von Kluck. He was a veteran of both the Austrian and
Franco-Prussian Wars, and was regarded as an able infantry leader. His
part was to enter Belgium at its northern triangle, which projects
between Holland and Germany, occupy Liege, deploy on the great central
plains of Belgium, then sweep toward the French northwestern frontier in
the German dash for Paris and the English Channel. His army thus formed
the right wing of the whole German offensive. It was composed of picked
corps, including cavalry of the Prussian Guard.
The Second Army had gathered in the neighborhood of Limbourg under the
command of General von Buelow. Its advance was planned down the valleys
of the Ourthe and Vesdre to a junction with Von Kluck at Liege, then a
march by the Meuse Valley upon Namur and Charleroi. In crossing the
Sambre it was to fall into place on the left of Von Kluck's army.
The German center was composed of the Third Army under Duke Albrecht of
Wuerttemberg, the Fourth Army led by the crown prince, and the Fifth Army
commanded by the Crown Prince of Bavaria. It was assembled on the line
Neufchateau-Treves-Metz. Its first offensive was the occupation of
Luxemburg. This was performed, after a somewhat dramatic protest by the
youthful Grand Duchess, who placed her motor car across the bridge by
which the Germans entered her internationally guaranteed independent
state. The German pretext was that since Luxemburg railways were German
controlled, they were required for the transport of troops. Preparations
were then made for a rapid advance through the Ardennes upon the Central
Meuse, to form in order upon the left of Von Buelow's army. A part of the
Fifth Army was to be detached for operations against the French fortress
of Verdun.
The Sixth Army was concentrated at Strassburg in Alsace, under General
von Heeringen. As inspector of the Prussian Guards he bore a very high
military reputation. For the time being General von Heeringen's part was
to remain in Alsace, to deal with a possibly looked for strong French
offensive by way of the Vosges or Belfort.
The main plan of the German General Staff, therefore was a wide
enveloping movement by the First and Second Armies to sweep the shore of
the English Channel in their march on Paris, a vigorous advance of the
center through the Ardennes for the same destination, and readiness for
battle by the Sixth Army for any French force which might be tempted
into Alsace. That this plan was not developed in its entirety, was due
to circumstances which fall into another place.
[Illustration: Pictorial Map of France.]
The long anticipated _Day_ dawned. Their vast military machine moved
with precision and unity. But there was a surprise awaiting them. The
Belgians were to offer a serious resistance to passage through their
territory--a firm refusal had been delivered at the eleventh hour. The
vanguard was thrown forward from Von Kluck's army at Aix, to break
through the defenses of Liege and seize the western railways. This force
of three divisions was commanded by General von Emmich, one of them
joining him at Verviers.
On the evening of August 3, 1914, Von Emmich's force had crossed into
Belgium. Early on the morning of August 4, 1914, Von Kluck's second
advance line reached Vise, situated on the Meuse north of Liege and
close to the Dutch frontier. Here an engagement took place with a
Belgian guard, which terminated with the Germans bombarding Vise. The
Belgians had destroyed the river bridge, but the Germans succeeded in
seizing the crossing.
This was the first actual hostility of the war on the western battle
grounds. With the capture of Vise, the way was clear for Von Kluck's
main army to concentrate on Belgian territory. By nightfall, Liege was
invested on three sides. Only the railway lines and roads running
westward remained open.
CHAPTER II
SIEGE AND CAPTURE OF LIEGE
A view of Liege will assist in revealing its three days' siege, with the
resulting effect upon the western theatre of war. Liege is the capital
of the Walloons, a sturdy race that in times past has at many a crisis
proved unyielding determination and courage. At the outbreak of war it
was the center of great coal mining and industrial activity. In the
commercial world it is known everywhere for the manufacture of firearms.
The smoke from hundreds of factories spreads over the city, often
hanging in dense clouds. It might aptly be termed the Pittsburg of
Belgium. The city lies in a deep, broad cut of the River Meuse, at its
junction with the combined channels of the Ourthe and Vesdre. It
stretches across both sides, being connected by numerous bridges, while
parallel lines of railway follow the course of the main stream. The
trunk line from Germany into Belgium crosses the Meuse at Liege. For the
most part the old city of lofty houses clings to a cliffside on the left
bank, crowned by an ancient citadel of no modern defensive value.
Whatever picturesqueness Liege may have possessed is effaced by the
squalid and dilapidated condition of its poorer quarters. To the north
broad fertile plains extend into central Belgium, southward on the
opposite bank of the Meuse, the Ardennes present a hilly forest,
stream-watered region. In its downward course the Meuse flows out of the
Liege trench to expand through what is termed the Dutch Flats.
Liege, at the outbreak of the war, was a place of great wealth and
extreme poverty--a Liege artisan considered himself in prosperity on $5
a week. It was of the first strategic importance to Belgium. Its
situation was that of a natural fortress, barring the advance of a
German army.
The defenses of Liege were hardly worth an enemy's gunfire before 1890.
They had consisted of a single fort on the Meuse right bank, and the
citadel crowning the heights of the old town. But subsequently the
Belgian Chamber voted the necessary sums for fortifying Liege and Namur
on the latest principles. From the plans submitted, the one finally
decided upon was that of the famous Belgian military engineer Henri
Alexis Brialmont. His design was a circle of detached forts, already
approved by German engineers as best securing a city within from
bombardment. With regard to Liege and Namur particularly, Brialmont held
that his plan would make passages of the Meuse at those places
impregnable to an enemy.
When the German army stood before Liege on this fourth day of August, in
1914, the circumference of the detached forts was thirty-one miles with
about two or three miles between them, and at an average of five miles
from the city. Each fort was constructed on a new model to withstand the
highest range and power of offensive artillery forecast in the last
decade of the nineteenth century. When completed they presented the form
of an armored mushroom, thrust upward from a mound by subterranean
machinery. The elevation of the cupola in action disclosed no more of
its surface than was necessary for the firing of the guns. The mounds
were turfed and so inconspicuous that in times of peace sheep grazed
over them. In Brialmont's original plan each fort was to be connected by
infantry trenches with sunken emplacements for light artillery, but this
important part of his design was relegated to the dangerous hour of a
threatening enemy. This work was undertaken too late before the onsweep
of the Germans. Instead, Brialmont's single weak detail in surrounding
each fort with an infantry platform was tenaciously preserved long after
its uselessness must have been apparent. Thus Liege was made a ring
fortress to distinguish it from the former latest pattern of earth
ramparts and outworks.
Six major and six minor of these forts encircled Liege. From north to
south, beginning with those facing the German frontier, their names ran
as follows: Barchon, Evegnee, Fleron, Chaudfontaine, Embourg, Boncelles,
Flemalle, Hollogne, Loncin, Lantin, Liers, and Pontisse. The armaments
of the forts consisted of 6-inch and 4.7-inch guns, with 8-inch mortars
and quick firers. They were in the relative number of two, four, two and
four for the major forts, and two, two, one and three for the minor
_fortins_, as such were termed. The grand total was estimated at 400
pieces. In their confined underground quarters the garrisons, even of
the major forts, did not exceed eighty men from the engineer, artillery
and infantry branches of the service. Between Fort Pontisse and the
Dutch frontier was less than six miles.
[Illustration: This bridge over the Meuse at Liege was blown up by the
Belgians to delay the German advance. The German army crossed on pontoon
bridges.]
It was through this otherwise undefended gap that Von Kluck purposed to
advance his German army after the presumed immediate fall of Liege, to
that end having seized the Meuse crossing at Vise. The railway line to
Aix-la-Chapelle was dominated by Fort Fleron, while the minor Forts
Chaudfontaine and Embourg, to the south, commanded the trunk line by way
of Liege into Belgium. On the plateau, above Liege, Fort Loncin held
the railway junction of Ans and the lines running from Liege north and
west. Finally, the forts were not constructed on a geometric circle, but
in such manner that the fire of any two was calculated to hold an enemy
at bay should a third between them fall. This was probably an accurate
theory before German guns of an unimagined caliber and range were
brought into action.
In command of the Belgian forts at Liege was General Leman. He had
served under Brialmont, and was pronounced a serious and efficient
officer. He was a zealous military student, physically extremely active,
and constantly on the watch for any relaxation of discipline. These
qualities enabled him to grasp at the outset the weakness of his
position.
If the Germans believed the refusal to grant a free passage for their
armies through Belgium to be little more than a diplomatic protest, it
would seem the Belgian Government was equally mistaken in doubting the
Germans would force a way through an international treaty of Belgian
neutrality. Consequently, the German crossing of the frontier discovered
Belgium with her mobilization but half complete, mainly on a line for
the defense of Brussels and Antwerp. It had been estimated by Brialmont
that 75,000 men of all arms were necessary for the defense of Liege on a
war footing, probably 35,000 was the total force hastily gathered in the
emergency to withstand the German assault on the fortifications. It
included the Civic Guard.
General Leman realized, therefore, that, without a supporting field
army, it would be impossible for him to hold the German hosts before
Liege for more than a few days--a week at most.
But he hoped within such time the French or British would march to his
relief. Thus his chief concern was for the forts protecting the railway
leading from Namur down the Meuse Valley into Liege--the line of a
French or British advance.
On the afternoon of August 4, 1914, German patrols appeared on the left
bank of the Meuse, approaching from Vise. They were also observed by the
sentries on Forts Barchon, Evegnee and Fleron. German infantry and
artillery presently came into view with the unmistakable object of
beginning the attack on those forts. The forts fired a few shots by way
of a challenge. As evening fell the woods began to echo with the roar of
artillery. Later, Forts Fleron, Chaudfontaine and Embourg were added to
the German bombardment. The Germans used long range field pieces with
powerful explosive shells. The fire proved to be remarkably accurate. As
their shells exploded on the cupolas and platforms of the forts, the
garrisons in their confined citadels began to experience that inferno of
vibrations which subsequently deprived them of the incentive to eat or
sleep. The Belgians replied vigorously, but owing to the broken nature
of the country, and the forethought with which the Germans took
advantage of every form of gun cover, apparently little execution was
dealt upon the enemy. However, the Belgians claimed to have silenced two
of the German pieces.
In the darkness of this historic night of August 4, 1914, the flames of
the fortress guns pierced the immediate night with vivid streaks. Their
searchlights swept in broad streams the wooded <DW72>s opposite. The
cannonade resounded over Liege, as if with constant peals of thunder. In
the city civilians sought the shelter of their cellars, but few of the
German shells escaped their range upon the forts to disturb them.
This exchange of artillery went on until near daybreak of August 5,
1914, when infantry fire from the woods to the right of Fort Embourg
apprised the defenders that the Germans were advancing to the attack.
The Germans came on in their customary massed formation. The prevalent
opinion that in German tactics such action was employed to hearten the
individual soldier, was denied by their General Staff. In their opinion
an advantage was thus gained by the concentration of rifle fire. Belgian
infantry withstood the assault, and counterattacked. When dawn broke, a
general engagement was in progress. About eight o'clock the Germans were
compelled to withdraw.
[Illustration: Beginning of German Invasion of Belgium.]
The first engagement of the war was won by the Belgians. It was reported
that the Belgian fire had swept the Germans down in thousands, but this
was denied by German authorities. Up to this time the German forces
before Liege were chiefly Von Kluck's vanguard under Von Emmich, his
second line of advance, and detachments of Von Buelow's army. On the
Belgian side no attempt was made to follow up the advantage. The reason
given is that the Germans were seen to be in strong cavalry force, an
arm lost totally in the military complement of Liege. The German losses
were undoubtedly severe, especially in front of Fort Barchon. This was
one of the major forts, triangular in shape, and surrounded by a ditch
and barbed wire entanglements. The armament of these major forts had
recently been reenforced by night, secretly, with guns of heavier
caliber from Antwerp. As they outmatched the German field pieces of the
first attack, presumably the German Intelligence Department had failed
in news of them. An armistice requested by the Germans to gather in the
wounded and bury the dead was refused. Thereupon the artillery duel
recommenced.
A hot and oppressive day disclosed woods rent and scarred, standing
wheat fields shell-plowed and trampled, and farm houses set ablaze. The
bringing of the Belgian wounded into Liege apprised the citizens that
their side had also suffered considerably. Meanwhile, the Germans were
reenforced by the Tenth Hanoverian Army Corps, from command of which
General von Emmich had been detached to lead Von Kluck's vanguard, also
artillery with 8.4-inch howitzers.
The bombardment on this 5th day of August, 1914, now stretched from Vise
around the Meuse right bank half circle of forts to embrace Pontisse and
Boncelles at its extremities. In a few hours infantry attack began
again. The Germans advanced in masses by short rushes, dropping to fire
rifle volleys, and then onward with unflinching determination. The
forts, wreathed in smoke, blazed shells among them; their machine guns
spraying streams of bullets. The Germans were repulsed and compelled to
retire, but only to re-form for a fresh assault. Both Belgian and German
aeroplanes flew overhead to signal their respective gunners. A Zeppelin
was observed, but did not come within range of Belgian fire. The
Belgians claim to have shot down one German aeroplane, and another is
said to have been brought to earth by flying within range of its own
artillery.
During the morning of August 5, Fort Fleron was put out of action by
shell destruction of its cupola-hoisting machinery. This proved a weak
point in Brialmont's fortress plan. It was presently discovered that the
fire of the supporting forts Evegnee and Chaudfontaine could not command
the lines forming the apex of their triangle. Further, since the Belgian
infantry was not in sufficient force to hold the lines between the
forts, a railway into Liege fell to the enemy. The fighting here was of
such a desperate nature, that General Leman hastened to reenforce with
all his reserve.
This battle went on during the afternoon and night of August 5, into the
morning of August 6, 1914. But the fall of Fort Fleron began to tell in
favor of the Germans. Belgian resistance perforce weakened. The
ceaseless pounding of the German 8.4-inch howitzers smashed the inner
concrete and stone protective armor of the forts, as if of little more
avail than cardboard. At intervals on August 6, Forts Chaudfontaine,
Evegnee and Barchon fell under the terrific hail of German shells. A way
was now opened into the city, though, for the most part, still contested
by Belgian infantry. A party of German hussars availed themselves of
some unguarded path to make a daring but ineffectual dash to capture
General Leman and his staff.
General Leman was consulting with his officers at military headquarters,
on August 6, 1914, when they were startled by shouts outside. He rushed
forth into a crowd of citizens to encounter eight men in German uniform.
General Leman cried for a revolver to defend himself, but another
officer, fearing the Germans had entered the city in force, lifted him
up over a foundry wall. Both Leman and the officer made their escape by
way of an adjacent house. Belgian Civic Guards hastening to the scene
dispatched an officer and two men of the German raiders. The rest of the
party are said to have been made prisoners.
The end being merely a question of hours General Leman ordered the
evacuation of the city by the infantry. He wisely decided it could be of
more service to the Belgian army at Dyle, than held in a beleaguered and
doomed city. Reports indicate that this retreat, though successfully
performed, was precipitate. The passage of it was scattered with arms,
equipment, and supplies of all kinds. An ambulance train was abandoned,
twenty locomotives left in the railway station, and but one bridge
destroyed in rear beyond immediate repair. After its accomplishment,
General Leman took command of the northern forts, determined to hold
them against Von Kluck until the last Belgian gun was silenced.
Early on August 7, 1914, Burgomaster Kleyer and the Bishop of Liege
negotiated terms for the surrender of the city. It had suffered but
slight damage from the bombardment. Few of the citizens were reported
among the killed or injured. On behalf of the Germans it must be said
their occupation of Liege was performed in good order, with military
discipline excellently maintained. They behaved at first fairly
impartial in establishing their rule in the city, and paid for all
supplies requisitioned. They were quartered in various public buildings
and institutions, probably to the number of 10,000. The German troops at
first seemed to present an interesting spectacle. They were mostly young
men, reported as footsore from their long march in new, imperfectly
fitting boots, and hungry from the lack of accompanying commissariat.
This is proof that the German's military machine did not work to
perfection at the outset. Later, alleged hostile acts by Belgian
individuals moved the German military authorities to seize a group of
the principal citizens, and warn the inhabitants that the breaking of a
peaceful attitude would be at the risk of swiftly serious punishment.
Precautions to enforce order were such as is provided in martial law,
and carried out in the beginning with some show of fairness. The Germans
appeared anxious to restore confidence and win a feeling of good will.
For some days after the capitulation of the city the northern forts
continued a heroic resistance. So long as these remained uncaptured,
General Leman maintained that, strategically, Liege had not fallen. He
thus held in check the armies of Von Kluck and Von Buelow, when every
hour was of supreme urgency for their respective onsweep into central
Belgium and up the Meuse Valley. The Germans presently brought into an
overpowering bombardment their 11-inch siege guns.
On August 13, 1914, Embourg was stricken into ruin. On the same day the
electric lighting apparatus of Fort Boncelles having been destroyed, the
few living men of its garrison fought through the following night in
darkness, and in momentary danger of suffocation from gases emitted by
the exploding German shells.
Early in the morning of August 14, 1914, though its cupolas were
battered in and shells rained upon the interior, the commander refused
an offer of surrender. A little later the concrete inner chamber walls
fell in. The commander of Boncelles, having exhausted his defensive,
hoisted the white flag. He had held out for eleven days in a veritable
death-swept inferno.
Fort Loncin disputed with Boncelles the honor of being the last to
succumb. The experience of its garrison differed only in terrible
details from Boncelles. Its final gun shot was fired by a man with his
left hand, since the other had been severed. Apparently a shell exploded
in its magazine, and blew up the whole fort. General Leman was
discovered amid its debris, pinned beneath a huge beam. He was released
by his own men. When taken to a trench, a German officer found that he
was merely unconscious from shock.
When sufficiently recovered, General Leman was conducted to General von
Emmich to tender his personal surrender. The two had previously been
comrades at maneuvers. The report of their meeting is given by a German
officer. The guard presented the customary salute due General Leman's
rank. General von Emmich advanced a few steps to meet General Leman.
Both generals saluted.
"General," said Von Emmich, "you have gallantly and nobly | 1,178.962432 |
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Produced by Ted Garvin, Ben Courtney and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team
DIO'S ROME
AN
HISTORICAL NARRATIVE
ORIGINALLY COMPOSED IN GREEK
DURING THE REIGNS OF
SEPTIMIUS SEVERUS, GETA
AND CARACALLA, MACRINUS,
ELAGABALUS AND ALEXANDER SEVERUS:
AND
NOW PRESENTED IN ENGLISH FORM
BY
HERBERT BALDWIN FOSTER,
A.B. (Harvard), Ph.D. (Johns Hopkins),
Acting Professor of Greek in Lehigh University
_FIFTH VOLUME: Extant Books 61-76 (A.D. 54-211)._
1906
* * * * *
VOLUME CONTENTS
* * * * *
Book Sixty-one
Book Sixty-two
Book Sixty-three
Book Sixty-four
Book Sixty-five
Book Sixty-six
Book Sixty-seven
Book Sixty-eight
Book Sixty-nine
Book Seventy
Book Seventy-one
Book Seventy-two
Book Seventy-three
Book Seventy-four
Book Seventy-five
Book Seventy-six
Book Seventy-seven
DIO'S ROMAN HISTORY
61
Nero seizes the sovereignty (chapters 1, 2).
At the beginning he is accustomed to yield to the influence of his mother,
whom Seneca and Burrus thrust aside from control of affairs (chapter 3).
Nero's exhibitions of wantonness and his extravagance: the death of
Silanus (chapters 4-6).
Love for Acte: Britannicus slain: discord with Agrippina (chapters 7, 8).
How Nero's mind began to give way (chapter 9).
About the faults and immoralities of the philosopher Seneca (chapter 10).
Sabina an object of love: Agrippina murdered (chapters 11-16).
Domitia put to death: festivities: Nero sings to the accompaniment of his
lyre (chapters 17-21).
DURATION OF TIME.
M. Asinius Marcellus, Manius Acilius Aviola. (A.D. 54 = a.u. 807 = First
of Nero, from Oct. 13th).
Nero Caesar Aug., L. Antistius Vetus. (A.D. 55 = a.u. 808 = Second of
Nero).
Q. Volusius Saturninus, P. Cornelius Scipio. (A.D. 56 = a.u. 809 = Third
of Nero).
Nero Caesar Aug. (II), L. Calpurnius Piso. (A.D. 57 = a.u. 810 = Fourth of
Nero).
Nero Caesar Aug. (III), M. Valerius Messala. (A.D. 58 = a.u. 811 = Fifth
of Nero).
C. Vipsanius Apronianus, L. Fonteius Capito. (A.D. 59 = a.u. 812 = Sixth
of Nero).
Nero Caesar Aug. (IV), Cornelius Lentulus Cossus. (A.D. 60 = a.u. 813 =
Seventh of Nero).
[Sidenote: A.D. 54 (a.u. 807)] [Sidenote:--1--] At the death of Claudius
the leadership on most just principles belonged to Britannicus, who had
been born a legitimate son of Claudius and in physical development was
beyond what would have been expected of his years. Yet by law the power
passed to Nero on account of his adoption. No claim, indeed, is stronger
than that of arms. Every one who possesses superior force has always the
appearance of both saying and doing what is more just. So Nero, having
first disposed of Claudius's will and having succeeded him as master of
the whole empire, put Britannicus and his sisters out of the way. Why,
then, should one stop to lament the misfortunes of other victims?
[Sidenote:--2--] The following signs of dominion had been observed in his
career. At his birth just before dawn rays not cast by any beam of
sunlight yet visible surrounded his form. And a certain astrologer from
this and from the motion of the stars at that time and their relation to
one another divined two things in regard to him,--that he would rule and
that he would murder his mother. Agrippina on hearing this became for the
moment so beside herself as actually to cry out: "Let him kill me, if only
he shall rule." Later she was destined to repent bitterly of her prayer.
Some people | 1,179.254313 |
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E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
LORD'S LECTURES
BEACON LIGHTS OF HISTORY, VOLUME XIV
THE NEW ERA
A Supplementary Volume, by Recent Writers,
as Set Forth in the Pref | 1,179.35443 |
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Produced by Dagny, Bonnie Sala
MELMOTH RECONCILED
By Honore De Balzac
Translated by Ellen Marriage
To Monsieur le General Baron de Pommereul, a token of the friendship
between our fathers, which survives in their sons.
DE BALZAC.
MELMOTH RECONCILED
There is a special variety of human nature obtained in the Social
Kingdom by a process analogous to that of the gardener's craft in the
Vegetable Kingdom, to wit, by the forcing-house--a species of hybrid
which can be raised neither from seed nor from slips. This product is
known as the Cashier, an anthropomorphous growth, watered by religious
doctrine, trained up in fear of the guillotine, pruned by vice, to
flourish on a third floor with an estimable wife by his side and an
uninteresting family. The number of cashiers in Paris must always be
a problem for the physiologist. Has any one as yet been able to state
correctly the terms of the proportion sum wherein the cashier figures as
the unknown _x_? Where will you find the man who shall live with wealth,
like a cat with a caged mouse? This man, for further qualification,
shall be capable of sitting boxed in behind an iron grating for seven
or eight hours a day during seven-eighths of the year, perched upon a
cane-seated chair in a space as narrow as a lieutenant's cabin on board
a man-of-war. Such a man must be able to defy anchylosis of the knee
and thigh joints; he must have a soul above meanness, in order to live
meanly; must lose all relish for money by dint of handling it. Demand
this peculiar specimen of any creed, educational system, school, or
institution you please, and select Paris, that city of fiery ordeals
and branch establishment of hell, as the soil in which to plant the said
cashier. So be it. Creeds, schools, institutions and moral systems, all
human rules and regulations, great and small, will, one after another,
present much the same face that an intimate friend turns upon you when
you ask him to lend you a thousand francs. With a dolorous dropping of
the jaw, they indicate the guillotine, much as your friend aforesaid
will furnish you with the address of the money-lender, pointing you to
one of the hundred gates by which a man comes to the last refuge of the
destitute.
Yet nature has her freaks in the making of a man's mind; she indulges
herself and makes a few honest folk now and again, and now and then a
cashier.
Wherefore, that race of corsairs whom we dignify with the title of
bankers, the gentry who take out a license for which they pay a thousand
crowns, as the privateer takes out his letters of marque, hold these
rare products of the incubations of virtue in such esteem that they
confine them in cages in their counting-houses, much as governments
procure and maintain specimens of strange beasts at their own charges.
If the cashier is possessed of an imagination or of a fervid
temperament; if, as will sometimes happen to the most complete cashier,
he loves his wife, and that wife grows tired of her lot, has ambitions,
or merely some vanity in her composition, the cashier is undone.
Search the chronicles of the counting-house. You will not find a single
instance of a cashier attaining _a position_, as it is called. They are
sent to the hulks; they go to foreign parts; they vegetate on a second
floor in the Rue Saint-Louis among the market gardens of the Marais.
Some day, when the cashiers of Paris come to a sense of their real
value, a cashier will be hardly obtainable for money. Still, certain
it is that there are people who are fit for nothing but to be cashiers,
just as the bent of a certain order of mind inevitably makes for
rascality. But, oh marvel of our civilization! Society rewards virtue
with an income of a hundred louis in old age, a dwelling on a second
floor, bread sufficient, occasional new bandana handkerchiefs, an
elderly wife and her offspring.
So much for virtue. But for the opposite course, a little boldness,
a faculty for keeping on the windward side of the law, as Turenne
outflanked Montecuculi, and Society will sanction the theft of millions,
shower ribbons upon the thief, cram him with honors, and smother him
with consideration.
Government, moreover, works harmoniously with this profoundly illogical
reasoner--Society. Government levies a conscription on the young
intelligence of the kingdom at the age of seventeen or eighteen,
a conscription of precocious brain-work before it is sent up to be
submitted to a process of selection. Nurserymen sort and select seeds
in much the same way. To this process the Government brings professional
appraisers of talent, men who can assay brains as experts assay gold
at the Mint. Five hundred such heads, set afire with hope, are sent up
annually by the most progressive portion of the population; and of these
the Government takes one-third, puts them in sacks called the Ecoles,
and shakes them up together for three years. Though every one of these
young plants represents vast productive power, they are made, as one
may say, into cashiers. They receive appointments; the rank and file
of engineers is made up of them; they are employed as captains of
artillery; there is no (subaltern) grade to which they may not aspire.
Finally, when these men, the pick of the youth of the nation, fattened
on mathematics and stuffed with knowledge, have attained the age of
fifty years, they have their reward, and receive as the price of their
services the third-floor lodging, the wife and family, and all the
comforts that sweeten life for mediocrity. If from among this race of
dupes there should escape some five or six men of genius who climb the
highest heights, is it not miraculous?
This is an exact statement of the relations between Talent and Probity
on the one hand and Government and Society on the other, in an age that
considers itself to be progressive. Without this prefatory explanation
a recent occurrence in Paris would seem improbable; but preceded by this
summing up of the situation, it will perhaps receive some thoughtful
attention from minds capable of recognizing the real plague-spots of
our civilization, a civilization which since 1815 as been moved by the
spirit of gain rather than by principles of honor.
About five o'clock, on a dull autumn afternoon, the cashier of one of
the largest banks in Paris was still at his desk, working by the light
of a lamp that had been lit for some time. In accordance with the use
and wont of commerce, the counting-house was in the darkest corner of
the low-ceiled and far from spacious mezzanine floor, and at the very
end of a passage lighted only by borrowed lights. The office doors
along this corridor, each with its label, gave the place the look of a
bath-house. At four o'clock the stolid porter had proclaimed, according
to his orders, "The bank is closed." And by this time the departments
were deserted, wives of the partners in the firm were expecting their
lovers; the two bankers dining with their mistresses. Everything was in
order.
The place where the strong boxes had been bedded in sheet-iron was just
behind the little sanctum, where the cashier was busy. Doubtless he was
balancing his books. The open front gave a glimpse of a safe of hammered
iron, so enormously heavy (thanks to the science of the modern inventor)
that burglars could not carry it away. The door only opened at the
pleasure of those who knew its password. The letter-lock was a warden
who kept its own secret and could not be bribed; the mysterious word was
an ingenious realization of the "Open sesame!" in the _Arabian Nights_.
But even this was as nothing. A man might discover the password; but
unless he knew the lock's final secret, the _ultima ratio_ of this
gold-guarding dragon of mechanical science, it discharged a blunderbuss
at his head.
The door of the room, the walls of the room, the shutters of the windows
in the room, the whole place, in fact, was lined with sheet-iron a third
of an inch in thickness, concealed behind the thin wooden paneling. The
shutters had been closed, the door had been shut. If ever man could feel
confident that he was absolutely alone, and that there was no remote
possibility of being watched by prying eyes, that man was the cashier of
the house of Nucingen and Company, in the Rue Saint-Lazare.
Accordingly the deepest silence prevailed in that iron cave. The fire
had died out in the stove, but the room was full of that tepid warmth
which produces the dull heavy-headedness and nauseous queasiness of a
morning after an orgy. The stove is a mesmerist that plays no small part
in the reduction of bank clerks and porters to a state of idiocy.
A room with a stove in it is a retort in which the power of strong
men is evaporated, where their vitality is exhausted, and their wills
enfeebled. Government | 1,179.356923 |
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Transcribed from the 1913 Hodder and Stoughton edition by David Price,
email [email protected]
CATHARINE FURZE
CHAPTER I
It was a bright, hot, August Saturday in the market town of Eastthorpe,
in the eastern Midlands, in the year 1840. Eastthorpe lay about five
miles on the western side of the Fens, in a very level country on the
banks of a river, broad and deep, but with only just sufficient fall to
enable its long-lingering waters to reach the sea. It was an ancient
market town, with a six-arched stone bridge, and with a High Street from
which three or four smaller and narrower streets connected by courts and
alleys diverged at right angles. In the middle of the town was the
church, an immense building, big enough to hold half Eastthorpe, and
celebrated for its beautiful spire and its peal of eight bells. Round
the church lay the churchyard, fringed with huge elms, and in the Abbey
Close, as it was called, which was the outer girdle of the churchyard on
three sides, the fourth side of the square being the High Street, there
lived in 1840 the principal doctor, the lawyer, the parson, and two aged
gentlewomen with some property, who were daughters of one of the former
partners in the bank, had been born in Eastthorpe, and had scarcely ever
quitted it. Here also were a young ladies' seminary and an ancient
grammar school for the education of forty boys, sons of freemen of the
town. The houses in the Close were not of the same class as the rest;
they were mostly old red brick, with white sashes, and they all had
gardens, long, narrow, and shady, which, on the south side of the Close,
ran down to the river. One of these houses was even older,
black-timbered, gabled, plastered, the sole remains, saving the church,
of Eastthorpe as it was in the reign of Henry the Eighth.
Just beyond the church, going from the bridge, the High Street was so
wide that the houses on either side were separated by a space of over two
hundred feet. This elongated space was the market-place. In the centre
was the Moot Hall, a quaint little building, supported on oak pillars,
and in the shelter underneath the farmers assembled on market day. All
round the Moot Hall, and extending far up and down the street, were
cattle-pens and sheep-pens, which were never removed. Most of the shops
were still bow-windowed, with small panes of glass, but the first
innovation, indicative of the new era at hand, had just been made. The
druggist, as a man of science and advanced ideas, had replaced his bow-
window with plate-glass, had put a cornice over it, had stuccoed his
bricks, and had erected a kind of balustrade of stucco, so as to hide as
much as possible the attic windows, which looked over, meekly protesting.
Nearly opposite the Moot Hall was the Bell Inn, the principal inn in the
town. There were other inns, respectable enough, such as the Bull, a
little higher up, patronised by the smaller commercial travellers and
farmers, but the entrance passage to the Bull had sand on the floor, and
carriers made it a house of call. To the Bell the two coaches came which
went through Eastthorpe, and there they changed horses. Both the Bull
and the Bell had market dinners, but at the Bell the charge was three-and-
sixpence; sherry was often drunk, and there the steward to the Honourable
Mr. Eaton, the principal landowner, always met the tenants. The Bell was
Tory and the Bull was Whig, but no stranger of respectability, Whig or
Tory, visiting Eastthorpe could possibly hesitate about going to the
Bell, with its large gilded device projecting over the pathway, with its
broad archway at the side always freshly gravelled, and its handsome
balcony on the first floor, from which the Tory county candidates, during
election times, addressed the free and independent electors and cattle.
Eastthorpe was a malting town, and down by the water were two or three
large malthouses. The view from the bridge was not particularly
picturesque, but it was pleasant, especially in summer, when the wind was
south-west. The malthouses and their cowls, the wharves and the gaily
painted sailing barges alongside, the fringe of slanting willows turning
the silver-gray sides of their foliage towards the breeze, the island in
the middle of the river with bigger willows, the large expanse of sky,
the soft clouds distinct in form almost to the far distant horizon, and,
looking eastwards, the illimitable distance towards the fens and the
sea--all this made up a landscape, more suitable perhaps to some persons
than rock or waterfall, although no picture had ever been painted of it,
and nobody had ever come to see it.
Such was Eastthorpe. For hundreds of years had the shadow of St. Mary's
swept slowly over the roofs underneath it, and, of all those years,
scarcely a line of its | 1,179.554264 |
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Produced by Shaun Pinder, Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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by The Internet Archive)
THE SUNKEN GARDEN
This is the second book issued by the Beaumont Press 20 copies have been
printed on Japanese vellum signed by the author and numbered 1 to 20 and
250 copies on hand-made paper numbered 21 to 270. This is No. 200.
THE SUNKEN
GARDEN
AND OTHER POEMS BY
WALTER DE LA MARE
CONTENTS
Page
THE LITTLE SALAMANDER
When I go free, 9
THE SUNKEN GARDEN
Speak not--whisper not; 10
THE RIDDLERS
‘Thou Solitary!’ the Blackbird cried, 11
MRS. GRUNDY
‘Step very softly, sweet Quiet-foot, 13
THE DARK HOUSE
See this house, how dark it is 15
MISTRESS FELL
‘Whom seek you here, sweet Mistress Fell?’ 16
THE STRANGER
In the woods as I did walk, 18
THE FLIGHT
How do the days press on, and lay 19
THE REMONSTRANCE
I was at peace until you came 20
THE EXILE
I am that Adam who, with Snake for guest, 21
EYES
O Strange Devices that alone divide 22
THE TRYST
Why in my heart, O grief, 23
THE OLD MEN
Old and alone, sit we, 25
THE FOOL’S SONG
Never, no, never, listen too long, 26
THE DREAMER
O Thou who giving helm and sword, 27
MOTLEY
Come, Death, I’d have a word with thee; 28
TO E. T.: 1917.
You sleep too well--too far away, 31
ALEXANDER
It was the great Alexander, 32
FOR ALL THE GRIEF
For all the grief I have given with words 34
FAREWELL
When I lie where shades of darkness 35
CLEAR EYES
Clear eyes do dim at last, 36
MUSIC
When Music sounds, gone is the earth I know, 37
IN A CHURCHYARD
As children bidden to go to bed 38
TWO HOUSES
In the strange city of life 39
COLOPHON 40
THE LITTLE SALAMANDER: TO MARGOT
When I go free,
I think ’twill be
A night of stars and snow,
And the wild fires of frost shall light
My footsteps as I go;
Nobody--nobody will be there
With groping touch, or sight,
To see me in my bush of hair
Dance burning through the night.
THE SUNKEN GARDEN
Speak not--whisper not;
Here bloweth thyme and bergamot;
Softly on the evening hour,
Secret herbs their spices shower,
Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh,
Lean-stalked, purple lavender;
Hides within her bosom, too,
All her sorrows, bitter rue.
Breathe not--trespass not;
Of this green and darkling spot,
Latticed from the moon’s beams,
Perchance a distant dreamer dreams;
Perchance upon its darkening air,
The unseen ghosts of children fare,
Faintly swinging, sway and sweep,
Like lovely sea-flowers in its deep;
While, unmoved, to watch and ward,
’Mid its gloom’d and daisied sward,
Stands with bowed and dewy head
That one little leaden Lad.
THE RIDDLERS
‘Thou solitary!’ the Blackbird cried,
‘I, from the happy Wren,
Linnet and Blackcap, Woodlark, Thrush,
Perched all upon a sweetbrier bush,
Have come at cold of midnight-tide
To ask thee, Why and when
Grief smote thy heart so thou dost sing
In solemn hush of evening,
So sorrowfully, lovelorn Thing--
Nay, nay, not sing, but rave, but wail,
Most melancholic Nightingale?
Do not the dews of darkness steep
All pinings of the day in sleep?
Why, then, when rocked in starry nest
We mutely couch, secure, at rest,
Doth thy lone heart delight to make
Music for sorrow’s sake?’
A Moon was there. So still her beam,
It seemed the whole world lay a-dream,
Lulled by the watery sea.
And from her leafy night-hung nook
Upon this stranger soft did look
The Nightingale: sighed he:--
‘’Tis strange, my friend; the Kingfisher
But yestermorn conjured me here
Out of his green and gold to say
Why thou, in splendour of the noon
Wearest of colour but golden shoon.
And else dost thee array
In a most sombre suit of black?
“Surely,” he sighed, “some load of grief,
Past all our thinking--and belief--
Must weigh upon his back!”
Do, then, in turn, tell me,--If joy
Thy heart as well as voice employ,
Why dost thou now, most Sable, shine
In plumage woefuller far than mine?
Thy silence is a sadder thing
Than any dirge I sing!’
Thus then these two small birds, perched there,
Breathed a strange riddle both did share
Yet neither could expound.
And we--who sing but as we can,
In the small knowledge of a man--
Have we an answer found?
Nay, some are happy whose delight
Is hid even from themselves from sight;
And some win peace who spend
The skill of words to sweeten despair
Of finding consolation where
Life has but one dark end;
Who, in rapt solitude, tell o’er
A tale as lovely as forlore
Into the midnight air.
MRS. GRUNDY
‘Step very softly, sweet Quiet-foot,
Stumble not, whisper not, smile not:
By this dark ivy stoop cheek and brow.
Still even thy heart! What seest thou?’
‘High coifed, broad-browed, aged, suave yet grim,
A large flat face, eyes keenly dim,
Staring at nothing--that’s me!--and yet,
With a hate one could never, no, never forget....’
‘This is my world, my garden, my home,
Hither my father bade mother to come
And bear me out of the dark into light,
And happy I was in her tender sight.
‘And then, thou frail flower, she died and went,
Forgetting my pitiless banishment,
And that Old Woman--an Aunt--she said,
Came hither, lodged, fattened, and made her bed.
‘Oh yes, thou most blessed, from Monday to Sunday
Has lived on me, preyed on me, Mrs. Grundy:
Called me, “dear Nephew”; on each of those chairs
Has gloated in righteousness, heard my prayers.
‘Why didst thou dare the thorns of the grove,
Timidest trespasser, huntress of love?
Now thou has peeped, and now dost know
What kind of creature is thine for foe.
‘Not that she’ll tear out thy innocent eyes,
Poison thy mouth with deviltries.
Watch thou, wait thou: soon will begin
The guile of a voice: hark!... “Come in, Come in!”’
THE DARK HOUSE
See this house, how dark it is
Beneath its vast-boughed trees!
Not one trembling leaflet cries
To that Watcher in the skies--
‘Remove, remove thy searching gaze,
Innocent, of Heaven’s ways,
Brood not, Moon, so wildly bright,
On secrets hidden from sight.’
‘Secrets,’ sighs the night-wind,
‘Vacancy is all I find;
Every keyhole I have made
Wail a summons, faint and sad,
No voice ever answers me,
Only vacancy.’
‘Once, once...’ the cricket shrills,
And far and near the quiet fills
With its tiny voice, and then
Hush falls again.
Mute shadows creeping slow
Mark how the hours go,
Every stone is mouldering slow,
And the least winds that blow
Some minutest atom shake,
Some fretting ruin make
In roof and walls. How black it is
Beneath these thick-boughed trees!
MISTRESS FELL
‘Whom seek you here, sweet Mistress Fell?’
‘One who loved me passing well.
Dark his eye, wild his face--
Stranger, if in this lonely place
Bide such an | 1,179.682186 |
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Produced by Ron Swanson
Vol. II. No. 1.
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE.
PUBLISHED BY THE
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY.
WASHINGTON, D. C.
Price 50 Cents.
CONTENTS.
On the Telegraphic Determinations of Longitude by the Bureau of
Navigation: Lieut. J. A. Norris, U. S. N.
Reports of the Vice-Presidents:
Geography of the Land: Herbert G. Ogden
Geography of the Air: A. W. Greely, Chief Signal Officer, U. S. A.
Annual Report of the Treasurer
Report of Auditing Committee
Annual Report of the Secretary
National Geographic Society:
Abstract of Minutes
Officers for 1890
Members of the Society
Published April, 1890.
PRESS OF TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE & TAYLOR, NEW HAVEN, CONN.
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE.
Vol. II. 1890. No. 1.
ON THE TELEGRAPHIC DETERMINATIONS OF LONGITUDE BY THE BUREAU OF
NAVIGATION.
BY LIEUT. J. A. NORRIS, U. S. N.
The following definitions are given by Chauvenet in his Spherical and
Practical Astronomy.
"The longitude of a point on the earth's surface is the angle at the
Pole included between the meridian of that point and some assumed first
meridian. The difference of longitude between any two points is the
angle included between their meridians." To describe the practical
methods of obtaining this difference or angle, by means of the electric
telegraph both overland and submarine, and especially those employed by
the expeditions sent out by the Navy department, is the object of this
paper.
* * * * *
Before the invention of the telegraph various methods more or less
accurate in their results were employed, and are still in use where the
telegraph is not available. The one most used and giving the best
results was that in which a number of chronometers were transported
back and forth between two places the difference of whose longitudes
was required. "For," as the author quoted above says, "the
determination of an absolute longitude from the first meridian or of a
difference of longitude in general, resolves itself into the
determination of the difference of the time reckoned at the two
meridians at the same absolute instant." If a chronometer be regulated
to the time at any place _A_, and then transported to a second place
_B_, and the local time at _B_, be determined at any instant, and at
that instant the time at _A_, as shown by the chronometer is noted, the
difference of the times is at once known, and that is the difference of
longitude required. The principal objection to this plan is that the
best chronometers vary. If the variations were constant and regular,
and the chronometer always gained or lost a fixed amount for the same
interval of time, this objection would disappear. But the variation is
not constant, the rate of gain or loss, even in the best instruments,
changes from time to time from various causes. Some of these causes may
be discovered and allowed for in a measure, others are accidental and
unknown. Of the former class are variations due to changes of
temperature. At the Naval Observatory, chronometers are rated at
different temperatures, and the changes due thereto are noted, and
serve to a great extent as a guide in their use. But the transportation
of a chronometer, even when done with great care is liable to cause
sudden changes in its indications, and of course in carrying it long
distances, numerous shocks of greater or less violence are unavoidable.
Still, chronometric measurements, when well carried out with a number
of chronometers and skilled observers have been very successful. Among
notable expeditions of this sort was that undertaken in 1843, by Struve
between Pulkova and Altona, in which eighty-one chronometers were
employed and nine voyages made from Pulkova to Altona and eight the
other way. The results from thirteen of the chronometers were rejected
as being discordant, and the deduced longitude was made to depend on
the remaining 68. The result thus obtained differs from the latest
determination by 0^{s}.2.
The U. S. Coast Survey instituted chronometric expeditions between
Cambridge, Mass., and Liverpool, England, in the years 1849, '50, '51
and '55. The probable error of the results of six voyages, three in
each direction, in 1855 was 0^{s}.19, fifty chronometers being carried.
Among other methods of determining differences of time may be mentioned
the observation of certain celestial phenomena, which are visible at
the same absolute instant by observers in various parts of the globe,
such as the instant of the beginning or end of an eclipse of the moon,
the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites by the shadow of the planet, the
bursting of a meteor, and the appearance or disappearance of a shooting
star. The difficulty of identifying these last mentioned objects and
the impossibility of foretelling their occurrence prevents the extended
use of this method.
Terrestrial signals may be used and among these can be included those
sent by the electric telegraph. But when two stations are near together
a signal may be made at either or at an intermediate station, which can
be observed at both, the time may be noted at each of the stations and
the difference found directly. These signals may be made by flashes of
gunpowder, or the appearance and disappearance of a strong light, or a
pre-concerted movement of any object easily seen. The heliotrope
reflecting the image of the sun from one station to the other with an
arrangement for suddenly eclipsing it, is a useful and efficient
apparatus.
Various truly astronomical methods have been employed with good
results, of these may be mentioned moon-culminations, azimuths of the
moon, lunar distances, etc.
Coming now to the use of the electric telegraph for this purpose the
following is a rough outline of the methods employed. Suppose two
stations A and B connected by wire, and provided with clocks,
chronographs and transit instruments. A list of suitable fixed stars is
compiled and each observer furnished with a copy. The observer at A the
eastern station, selects a star from his list and sets his transit
instrument upon it. He is furnished with a key by which he can send
telegraphic signals over the line and also mark the time on his own
chronograph. The instant he observes the star crossing the spider line
which represents the meridian, he taps his key, thus registering the
time on his own chronograph and on that at station B and this operation
he repeats with as many stars as necessary. B has his instrument set
for the first star, and when it crosses his meridian, he taps his key
marking the time on his own chronograph and also on A's. Then,
disregarding instrumental and personal errors and the rate of the
clock, A has a record of the times at which the star passed both
meridians. The difference of these times is the difference of longitude
sought, except for an error due to the time occupied in the
transmission of the signal over the wire between the stations. B also
has a record of the same difference of time with the same error
affecting it in the opposite way. A mean of these two differences, will
be the true difference with the error of transmission eliminated. This
method has the advantage of not depending upon the computed position of
the star. The instrumental errors may be allowed for, as well as the
rate of the clocks, and the personal error may be eliminated by the
exchange of stations.
There are disadvantages inseparable from this method, however,
especially when the meridian distance is great. A star observed at the
first station, may be obscured by clouds at the time of its meridian
passage at the second. And the weather generally, at the two stations
may be cloudy, so that while stars can be observed at intervals, yet it
may be impossible to note the meridian passage of the same star at both
places on the same night. Then the telegraph lines are usually the
property of some commercial company and while their use for a short
time might be freely granted, yet a protracted occupation of them as
necessary when the meridians are distant from each other, would prove a
serious hindrance to their regular business.
The method at this time most generally employed, is to observe at each
station a number of stars entirely independently of the other. From
these stars are deduced the clock errors and rates upon the respective
local times. Then at some prearranged period, communication is opened
between the stations, and a comparison of the clocks made which shows
their exact difference at a given instant. By applying the error to the
time as shown by the clock at this instant, the exact local time at
each station is the result, and applying the difference between the
clocks as shown by the comparison, the required difference of longitude
is readily obtained.
These methods originated, as did the electric telegraph, in the United
States, and soon after Morse's invention came into practical use, they
were extensively employed by the Coast Survey, in accurately
determining points in every part of the country that could be reached,
no pains being spared to make the determinations as accurate as
possible. Upon the completion of the first successful Atlantic cable in
1866, an expedition was organized and placed in charge of Dr. B. A.
Gould, for the purpose of measuring the meridian distance between
Greenwich and the Naval Observatory at Washington. This was
successfully carried out in spite of numerous difficulties, and the
result proved that the determinations already made upon which the most
reliance was placed were decidedly in error. The result from the
chronometric expedition in 1855 previously referred to differing over a
second of time.
In constructing charts for use at sea, the accurate determination of
latitude and longitude is of the utmost importance. The navigator
starting on a voyage must know the exact position of his destination as
well as the location of dangers to be avoided. He must know the error
and rate of his chronometer when he sets out, but as the rate is not
constant he should have some means of re-rating it at any place where
he may stop. If the longitude of this place is well determined, the
operation of obtaining the error and rate is an easy one, and may save
his vessel from loss.
Surveys, of coasts or countries must have well established starting
points, and while the latitude of a place is comparatively easy to
determine, the longitude, except when the telegraphic method is used,
is attended with more or less uncertainty.
In 1873, Commodore R. H. Wyman, U. S. N. Hydrographer to the Bureau of
Navigation, organized by permission of the Navy Department, an
expedition for the telegraphic determination of longitude in the West
Indies and Central America. The submarine cables of the West India and
Panama Telegraph Co. had just been completed, extending from Key West
through Havana and Santiago de Cuba, south to Jamaica and Aspinwall,
and east through the Virgin and Windward Islands to the northeast coast
of South America, thus affording admirable facilities for the accurate
determination of many points. It had long been known that the
longitudes of various points in the West Indies and in Central and
South America, did not harmonize, there having been no systematic
attempt to determine them with relation to each other or to a common
base. Longitudes in the western part of the Caribbean Sea depended upon
the position of the Morro lighthouse at Havana, which had been
determined by occultations. Further to the eastward, positions depended
upon that of Fort Christian at St. Thomas. This in its turn depended
upon the observatory of Major Lang in the Island of Santa Cruz about
forty miles distant. This position depended upon numerous observations
of moon culminations and occultations. Martinique and Guadeloupe in the
Windward Islands had been surveyed by French officers who based their
positions upon longitudes derived from moon culminations. The absolute
determination of these starting points would of course fix all points
derived from them.
The U. S. Steamer Fortune was designated by the Navy Department for the
conveyance of the expedition, and Lieut. Commander (now Commander), F.
M. Green, U. S. N. was placed in charge. This officer had given great
| 1,179.817414 |
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Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
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Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/fronlastamerican00paxsrich
THE LAST AMERICAN FRONTIER
Stories from American History
* * * * * *
[Illustration]
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK. BOSTON. CHICAGO
ATLANTA. SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON. BOMBAY. CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
* * * * * *
[Illustration]
THE LAST AMERICAN FRONTIER
by
FREDERIC LOGAN PAXSON
Junior Professor of American History in the University of Michigan
Illustrated
New York
The Macmillan Company
1910
All rights reserved
Copyright, 1910,
By the Macmillan Company.
Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1910.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
PREFACE
I have told here the story of the last frontier within the United
States, trying at once to preserve the picturesque atmosphere which
has given to the "Far West" a definite and well-understood meaning,
and to indicate those forces which have shaped the history of the
country beyond the Mississippi. In doing it I have had to rely largely
upon my own investigations among sources little used and relatively
inaccessible. The exact citations of authority, with which I might have
crowded my pages, would have been out of place in a book not primarily
intended for the use of scholars. But I hope, before many years, to
exploit in a larger and more elaborate form the mass of detailed
information upon which this sketch is based.
My greatest debts are to the owners of the originals from which the
illustrations for this book have been made; to Claude H. Van Tyne, who
has repeatedly aided me with his friendly criticism; and to my wife,
whose careful readings have saved me from many blunders in my text.
FREDERIC L. PAXSON.
ANN ARBOR, August 7, 1909.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 1
CHAPTER II
THE INDIAN FRONTIER 14
CHAPTER III
IOWA AND THE NEW NORTHWEST 33
CHAPTER IV
THE SANTA FE TRAIL 53
CHAPTER V
THE OREGON TRAIL 70
CHAPTER VI
OVERLAND WITH THE MORMONS 86
CHAPTER VII
CALIFORNIA AND THE FORTY-NINERS 104
CHAPTER VIII
KANSAS AND THE INDIAN FRONTIER 119
CHAPTER IX
"PIKE'S PEAK OR BUST!" 138
CHAPTER X
FROM ARIZONA TO MONTANA 156
CHAPTER XI
THE OVERLAND MAIL 174
CHAPTER XII
THE ENGINEERS' FRONTIER 192
CHAPTER XIII
THE UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD 211
CHAPTER XIV
THE PLAINS IN THE CIVIL WAR 225
CHAPTER XV
THE CHEYENNE WAR 243
CHAPTER XVI
THE SIOUX WAR 264
CHAPTER XVII
THE PEACE COMMISSION AND THE OPEN WAY 284
CHAPTER XVIII
BLACK KETTLE'S LAST RAID 304
CHAPTER XIX
THE FIRST OF THE RAILWAYS 324
CHAPTER XX
THE NEW INDIAN POLICY 340
CHAPTER XXI
THE LAST STAND: CHIEF JOSEPH AND SITTING BULL 358
CHAPTER XXII
LETTING IN THE POPULATION 372
CHAPTER XXIII
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 387
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE PRAIRIE SCHOONER _Frontispiece_
PAGE
MAP: INDIAN COUNTRY AND AGRICULTURAL FRONTIER, 1840-1841 22
CHIEF KEOKUK _facing_ 30
IOWA SOD PLOW. (From a Cut belonging to the Historical
Department of Iowa.) 46
MAP: OVERLAND TRAILS 57
FORT LARAMIE, 1842 _facing_ 78
MAP: THE WEST IN 1849 120
MAP: THE WEST IN 1854 140
"HO FOR THE YELLOW STONE" _facing_ 144
THE MINING CAMP " 158
FORT SNELLING " 204
RED CLOUD AND PROFESSOR MARSH " 274
MAP: THE WEST IN 1863 300
POSITION OF RENO ON THE LITTLE BIG HORN _facing_ 360
MAP: THE PACIFIC RAILROADS, 1884 380
THE LAST AMERICAN FRONTIER
CHAPTER I
THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT
The story of the United States is that of a series of frontiers which
the hand of man has reclaimed from nature and the savage, and which
courage and foresight have gradually transformed from desert waste to
virile commonwealth. It is the story of one long struggle, fought over
different lands and by different generations, yet ever repeating the
conditions and episodes of the last period in the next. The winning of
the first frontier established in America its first white settlements.
Later struggles added the frontiers of the Alleghanies and the Ohio,
of the Mississippi and the Missouri. The winning of the last frontier
completed the conquest of the continent.
The greatest of American problems has been the problem of the West.
For four centuries after the discovery there existed here vast areas
of fertile lands which beckoned to the colonist and invited him to
migration. On the boundary between the settlements and the wilderness
stretched an indefinite line that advanced westward from year to year.
Hardy pioneers were ever to be found ahead of it, blazing the trails
and clearing in the valleys. The advance line of the farmsteads was
never far behind it. And out of this shifting frontier between man and
nature have come the problems that have occupied and directed American
governments since their beginning, as well as the men who have solved
them. The portion of the population residing in the frontier has
always been insignificant in number, yet it has well-nigh controlled
the nation. The dominant problems in politics and morals, in economic
development and social organization, have in most instances originated
near the frontier or been precipitated by some shifting of the frontier
interest.
The controlling influence of the frontier in shaping American problems
has been possible because of the construction of civilized governments
in a new area, unhampered by institutions of the past or conservative
prejudices of the present. Each commonwealth has built from the
foundation. An institution, to exist, has had to justify itself again
and again. No force of tradition has kept the outlawed fact alive. The
settled lands behind have in each generation been forced to remodel
their older selves upon the newer growths beyond.
Individuals as well as problems have emerged from the line of the
frontier as it has advanced across a continent. In the conflict with
the wilderness, birth, education, wealth, and social standing have
counted for little in comparison with strength, vigor, and aggressive
courage. The life there has always been hard, killing off the weaklings
or driving them back to the settlements, and leaving as a result a
picked population not noteworthy for its culture or its refinements,
but eminent in qualities of positive force for good or bad. The bad
man has been | 1,179.885117 |
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THE BROTHER OF DAPHNE
by
Dornford Yates
Chapter I Punch and Judy
Chapter II Clothes and the man
Chapter III When it was dark
Chapter IV Adam and New Year's eve
Chapter V The Judgement of Paris
Chapter VI Which to adore
Chapter VII Every picture tells a story
Chapter VIII The Busy Beers
Chapter IX A point of honour
Chapter X Pride goeth before
Chapter XI The love scene
Chapter XII The order of the bath
Chapter XIII A lucid interval
Chapter XIV A private view
Chapter XV All found
CHAPTER I
PUNCH AND JUDY
"I said you'd do something," said Daphne, leaning back easily in her
long chair.
I stopped swinging my legs and looked at her.
"Did you, indeed," I said coldly.
My sister nodded dreamily.
"Then you lied, darling. In your white throat," I said pleasantly.
"By the way, d'you know if the petrol's come?"
"I don't even care," said Daphne. "But I didn't lie, old chap. My
word is--"
"Your bond? Quite so. But not mine. The appointment I have in Town
that day--"
"Which day?" said Daphne, with a faint smile.
"The fete day."
"Ah!"
It was a bazaar fete thing. Daphne and several others--euphemistically
styled workers--had conspired and agreed together to obtain money by
false pretences for and on behalf of a certain mission, to wit the
Banana. I prefer to put it that way. There is a certain smack about
the wording of an indictment. Almost a relish. The fact that two
years before I had been let in for a stall and had defrauded fellow men
and women of a considerable sum of money, but strengthened my
determination not to be entrapped again. At the same time I realized
that I was up against it.
The crime in question was fixed for Wednesday or Thursday--so much I
knew. But no more. There was the rub. I really could not toil up to
Town two days running.
"Let's see," I said carelessly, "the fete's on--er--Wednesday, or
Thursday, is it?"
"Which day are you going up to Town?" said Daphne. I changed my ground.
"The Bananas are all right," I said, lighting a cigarette.
"They only ate a missionary the other day," said my sister.
"That's bad," said I musingly. "To any nation the consumption of home
produce is of vital--"
"We want to make sixty pounds."
"To go towards their next meal? How much do missionaries cost?"
"To save their souls alive," said Daphne zealously.
"I'm glad something's to be saved alive," said I.
Before she could reply, tea began to appear. When the footman had
retired to fetch the second instalment of accessories, I pointed the
finger of scorn at the table, upon which he had set the tray.
"That parody emanated from a bazaar," I said contemptuously.
"It does for the garden," said my sister.
"It'd do for anything," said I. "Its silly sides, its crazy legs-"
"Crazy?" cried Daphne indignantly. "It'd bear an elephant."
"What if it would?" I said severely. "It's months since we gave up the
elephants."
"Is the kettle ready?"
"It boils not, neither does it sing."
"For which piece of irreverence you will do something on Thursday."
"My dear girl," I said hurriedly, "if it were not imperative for me to
be in Town--"
"You will do something on Thursday." I groaned.
"And this," I said, "this is my mother's daughter! We have been nursed
together, scolded together, dandled in the same arms. If she had not
been the stronger of the two, we should have played with the same toys."
I groaned again. Berry opened his eyes.
"The value of a siesta upon a summer afternoon--" he began.
I cut in with a bitter laugh. "What's he going to do?" I said.
"Take a stall, of course," said Daphne.
"Is he?" said Berry comfortably. "Is he? If motoring with Jonah to
Huntercombe, and playing golf all day, is not incompatible with taking
a stall on Thursday, I will sell children's underwear and egg cosies
with eclat. Otherwise--"
"Golf," I said, "golf! Why don't I play golf?"
"I know," said Berry; "because--"
"Miserable man!" said Daphne.
"Who?" said her husband.
"You."
Berry turned to me. "You hear?" he said. "Vulgar abuse. And why?
Simply because a previous engagement denies to me the opportunity of
subscribing to this charitable imposition. Humble as would have been
my poor assistance, it would have been rendered with a willing heart.
But there!" he sighed--"It may not be. The Bananas will never know,
never realize how---- By the way, who are the Bananas?"
"The Bananas?" said I. "Surely you know the--"
"Weren't at Ascot, were they?"
"Not in the Enclosure. No. The bold, bad Bananas are in many ways an
engaging race. Indeed, some of the manners and customs which they
affect are of a quite peculiar interest. Let us look, brother, for a
moment, at their clothing. At the first blush--I use the word
advisedly--it would seem that, like the fruit from which they take
their name--"
"I thought you'd better do some tricks," said Daphne, throwing a dark
look in my direction.
"Of course," I said; "the very thing. I've always been so good at
tricks."
"I mean it," said Daphne.
"Of course you do. What about the confidence trick? Can any lady
oblige me with a public-house?"
"She means trick-cycling, stupid," said Berry. "Riding backwards on
one wheel while you count the ball-bearings."
"Look here," I said, "if Berry could have come and smoked a cigarette,
I wouldn't have minded trying to flick the ash off it with a
hunting-whip."
"Pity about that golf," mused Berry. "And you might have thrown knives
round me afterwards. As it is, you'll have to recite."
In a few telling sentences I intimated that I would do nothing of the
kind.
"I will appear," I said at last, "I will appear and run round
generally, but I promise nothing more."
"Nonsense," said my sister. "I have promised, and I'm not going to let
you break my word. You are going to do something definite."
"Desperate?"
"Definite. You have three days in which to get ready. There's Jill
calling me. We're going to run over to Barley to whip up the Ashton
crowd. D'you think we've enough petrol?"
"I don't even care," said I.
Daphne laughed softly. Then: "I must go," she said, getting up. "Give
me a cigarette and tell me if you think this dress'll do. I'm going to
change my shoes."
"If," said I, producing my cigarette-case, "if you were half as nice as
you invariably look--"
"That's a dear," she said, taking a cigarette. "And now, good-bye."
I watched her retreating figure gloomily.
Berry began to recite 'We are Seven.'
Thursday morning broke cloudless and brilliant. I saw it break.
Reluctantly, of course; I am not in the habit of rising at cock-crow.
But on this occasion I rose because I could not sleep. When I went to
bed on Wednesday night, I lay awake thinking deeply about what I was to
do on the morrow. Daphne had proved inexorable. My brain, usually so
fertile, had become barren, and for my three days' contemplation of the
subject I had absolutely nothing to show. It was past midnight before
I fell into a fitful slumber, only to be aroused three hours and a half
later by the sudden burst of iniquity with which two or more cats saw
fit to shake the silence of the rose-garden.
As I threw out the boot-jack, I noticed the dawn. And as further sleep
seemed out of the question, I decided to dress and go out into the
woods.
When I slipped out of Knight's Bottom into the sunlit road to find
myself face to face with a Punch and Judy show, I was not far from
being momentarily disconcerted. For a second it occurred to me that I
might be dreaming, but, though I listened carefully, I could hear no
cats, so I sat down on the bank by the side of the road and prepared to
contemplate the phenomenon.
When I say 'Punch and Judy show' I am wrong. Although what I saw
suggested the proximity of a Punch and a Judy, to say nothing of the
likelihood of a show, I did not, as a matter of fact, descry any one of
the three. The object that presented itself to my view was the tall,
rectangular booth, gaudy and wide-mouthed, with which, until a few
years ago, the streets of London were so familiar. Were! Dear old
Punch and Judy, how quickly you are becoming a thing of the past! How
soon you will have gone the way of Jack-i'-the Green, Pepper's Ghost,
the Maypole, and many another old friend! Out of the light into the
darkness. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and in a
little space men shall be content to wonder at your ancient memory as
their grandfathers marvelled at that of the frolics of my Lord of
Misrule. However.
There was the booth. But that was all. It stood quite alone at the
side of the white road. I walked round it. Nothing. I glanced up and
down the road, but there was no one in sight. I had been feeling
hungry, for it was seven o'clock; but this was better than breakfast,
and I returned to the bank. The little red curtains fluttered, as a
passing breeze caught them, and I marked how bright and new they
looked. It was certainly in good condition--this booth.
"Well?" said a voice.
"Well?" said I.
A pause. A girl's voice it was: coming from within the booth.
"You seem rather surprised," said the voice.
"No, no," I said, "not really surprised. Only a little staggered. You
see, I know so few booths."
"What are you doing here?"
"To be frank, booth, I'm waiting."
"I'm waiting, too."
"So?" said I. "I wait, you wait, let us wait, ye shall have been about
to see, they would--"
"What are you waiting for?"
"Developments. And you?"
"My breakfast."
I looked up and down the road. "I don't see it coming," I said
anxiously. "What's it look like?"
"Milk. You don't happen to have any, I suppose?"
I felt in my pockets.
"There, now," I said, "I must have left it on the piano. I got up
rather hurriedly this morning," I added apologetically.
"Never mind."
"I'll tell you what, booth, I'll go and get some."
"No, thanks very much. Don't you bother; it'll come along presently."
"Are you sure? This isn't 'The Blue Bird.'"
"Yes, it's all right--really."
There was another pause. Then:
"Hadn't you better be getting back to breakfast?" said the girl.
"Not much," said I. "I don't run up against booths every day.
Besides--"
"Besides what?"
"Well, booth, I'm awfully curious."
"What do you want to know?"
"You're very good."
"I didn't say I'd tell you."
"I'll risk that. In a word, why are you?"
"Ah!"
I waited in silence for a few moments. At length:
"Suppose," she said slowly, "suppose a bet had been made."
"A bet?"
"A bet."
"Shocking! Go on."
"Well? Isn't that enough?"
"Nothing like."
"I don't think much of your imagination."
I raised my eyes to heaven. "A prophet is not without honour," I
quoted.
"Is this your own country?"
"It is."
"Oh, I say, you'd be the very man!"
"I am," I said. "Refuse substitutes."
It gradually appeared that, in a rash moment, she had made some silly
wager that she could give a Punch and Judy show on her own in the
village of Lynn Hammer and the vicinity. Of course, she had not meant
it. She had spoken quite idly, secure in the very impracticability of
the thing. But certain evil-disposed persons--referred to mysteriously
as 'they'--had fastened greedily upon her words, and, waving aside her
objection that she had no paraphernalia, deliberately proceeded to
provide the same, that she might have no excuse. The booth was run up,
the puppets procured. The gentle hint that she wanted to withdraw had
been let fall at the exact moment with deadly effect, and--the wicked
work was done. She had been motored over and here set down, complete
with booth, half an hour ago. They were going to look back later, just
to see how she was getting on. The ordeal was to be over and the wager
won by six o'clock, and she might have the assistance of a native in
her whimsical venture.
"Right up to the last I believe the brutes thought I would cry off,"
she said. "I very nearly did, too, when it came to it. Only I saw
Peter smiling. It is rather a hopeless position, isn't it?"
"It was. But now that you've got your native--"
"Oh!" she said. Then: "But I've got one."
"Where?"
"He's getting the milk."
"I don't believe he is. Anyway, you can discharge him and take me on.
I've been out of work for years. Besides, you've been sent. In your
advent I descry the finger of Providence."
"I wish I did. What do you mean?"
"This day," I said, "I am perforce a zealot."
"A what?"
"A zealot--a Banana zealot. You, too, shall be a zealot. We will
unite our zeal, and this day light such a candle--"
"The man's mad," she said. "Quite mad."
I explained. "You see," I said, "it's like this. Simply miles away,
somewhere south south and by south of us, there are a lot of heathen.
They're called Bananas. I don't know very much about it, but there
seems | 1,180.061167 |
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