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 OLIVE OPINION OLIVE

OPINION

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = As the saying is, So many heades, so many wittes. Queen Elizabeth—Godly Meditacyon of the Christian Sowle. (1548) | seealso = (See also {{sc|Terence)

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Intolerant only of intolerance. I. S. S. G. in Eraser's Mag. Aug., 1863. Article on Mr. Buckle in the East. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = It is not often that an opinion is worth expressing, which cannot take care of itself. Holmes—Medical Essays. 211. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Denique non omnes eadem mirantur amantque. All men do not, in fine, admire or love the same thing. Horace—Epistles. II. 2. 58. Monuments of the safety with which errors of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it. Thomas Jefferson—First Inaugural Address. March 4, 1801. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 15 | text = Dogmatism is puppyism come to its full growth. Jerrold—Man Made of Money. In the Wit and Opinions of Jerrold. P. 28. Attributed to Dean Mansel by Burgon in Lives of Twelve Good Men. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = How long halt ye between two opinions? I Kings. XVIII. 21. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = We hardly find any persons of good sense save those who agree with us. La Rochefoucauld—Maxims. 347. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Swift) | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 15 | text = The deep slumber of a decided opinion. Thoughts for the Cloister and Crowd. London, 1835. P. 21. Quoted by Mill—Liberty. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Even opinion is of force enough to make itself to be espoused at the expense of life. Montaigne—Of Good and Evil. Ch. XL. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There never was in the world two opinions alike, no more than two hairs, or two grains; the most universal quality is diversity. Montaigne—Essays. Of the Resemblance of Children to their Fathers. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = II opine du bonnet comme un moine en Sorbonne. He adopts the opinion of others like a monk in the Sorbonne. Pascal—Lettres Provinciales. II. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = La force est la reine du monde, et non pas Popinion; mais l'opinion est celle qui use de la force. Force and not opinion is the queen of the world; but it is opinion that uses the force. Pascal—Pens&es. Art. XXIV. 92. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Delia opinione regina del mondo. Opinion is the queen of the world. Pascal quotes this as the title of an Italian work. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = He (Cato) never gave his opinion in the Senate upon any other point whatever, without adding these words, "And, in my opinion Carthage should be destroyed." ["Delenda est Carthago."] Plutarch—Life of Cato the Censor. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Some praise at morning what they blame at night, But always think the last opinion right. | author = Pope | work = Essay on Criticism. Pt. II. L. 230. I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest Not cast aside so soon. Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 7. L. 32. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Opinion | page = 569 }}


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MONEY (See also )

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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820


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914

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The world's a stage on which all parts are played. Thos. Middleton—A Game of Chess. Act V. Sc. II.

| seealso = (See also {{sc|Du Bartas) Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth. | author = Milton | work = Comus. L. 5. Hanging in a golden chain This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. II. L. 1,051. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Measure for Measure)


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 CHARACTER CHARACTER


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 GOD


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348


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 HOPE

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Et spes inanes, et velut somnia qusedam, vigilantium. Vain hopes are like certain dreams of those who wake. Qctntilian. VI. 2. 27. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Basil, Prior) g Who against hope believed in hope. Romans. IV. 18. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 377 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Hope dead lives nevermore, No, not in heaven. Christina G. Rossetti—Dead Hope. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 377 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Who in Life's battle firm doth stand Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms Into the Silent Land. J. G. Van Salis—Song of the Silent Land. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Verzweifle keiner je, dem in der triibsten Nacht Der Hoffnung letzte Sterne schwinden. Let no one despair, even though in the darkest night the last star of hope may disappear. Schiller—Oberon. I. 27. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 377 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The sickening pang of hope deferr'd. Scott—Lady of the Lake. Canto III. St. 22. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 377 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. Scott—Lady of the Lake. Canto IV. St. 1. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 377 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Omnia homini, dum vivit, speranda sunt. All things are to be hoped by a man as long as he is alive. ("A very effeminate saying. | author =  | work =  | place =  | note =  | topic =  | page = 377 }}


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JEWS


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 LEARNING LEARNING


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464 LOUSE

LOVE


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522

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Quserenda pecunia primum est; virtus post nummos. Money is to be sought for first of all; virtue after wealth. Horace—Epistles. I. 1. 53. is Rem facias rem, Recte si possis, si non, quocumque modo rem. Money, make money; by honest means if you can; if not, by any means make money. Horace—Epistles. I. 1. 65. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Jonson) Quo mihi fortunam, si non conceditur uti? Of what use is a fortune to me, if I can not use it? Horace—Epistles. I. 5. 12. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Et genus et formam regina pecunia donat. All powerful money gives birth and beauty. Horace—Epistles. I. 6. 37. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Licet superbus ambules pecuniae, Fortuna non mutat genus. Though you strut proud of your money, yet fortune has not changed your birth. Horace—Epodi. IV. 5. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo Ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in area. The people hiss me, but I applaud myself at home, when I contemplate the money in my chest. Horace—Satires. I. 1. 66. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The almighty dollar, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine devotees in these peculiar vilWashington Irving—Creole Village. In Wolferfs Roost. Appeared in Knickerbocker Mag. Nov., 1836. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Wolcot}}) | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Whilst that for which all virtue now is sold, And almost every vice, almighty gold. Ben Jonson—Epistle to EUzabeth, Countess of Rutland. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Money | page = 522 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Get money; still get money, boy; No matter by what means. Ben Jonson—Every Man in His Humour. Act II. Sc. 3. • | seealso = (See also {{sc|Horace, Pope)


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{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Sheer necessity—the proper parent of an art so nearly allied to invention. Sheridan—The Critic. Act I. Sc. 2. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Franck) The gods do not fight against necessity. Simonides. 3. 20. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Nede hath no lawe. Skelton—Colyn Cloute. L. 865. Langland —Piers Ploughman. Passus. 23. L. 10. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Cromwell, Syrus}}) | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I hold that to need nothing is divine, and the less a man needs the nearer does he approach divinity. Socrates. Quoted by Xenophon—Mem. Bk. I. 6. 10. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 24 | text = A wise man never refuses anything to necessity. | author = Syrus | work = Maxims. | place = 540. | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 25 | text = Necessity knows no law except to conquer. | author = Syrus | work = Maxims. | place = 553. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Skelton}}) | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 26 | text = Le superflu, chose tres necessaire. | trans = The superfluous, a very necessary thing. | author = Voltaire | work = Le Mondain. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Scopas}}) | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 27 | text = Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,—miserable train!— Turns his necessity to glorious gain. | author = Wordsworth | work = Character of a Happy Warrior. | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 28 | text = Necessity, the mother of invention. | author = Wycherly | work = Love in a Wood. | place = Act III. Sc. 3. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Franck}}) | topic = Necessity | page = 551 }}


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 REPUTATION REPUTATION

 * 1) REPUTATION ##

(See also )

) | topic = | page = 667 }}


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{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Two may keep counsel when the third's away. Titus Andronicus. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 144. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Chaucer)

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Under the rose, since here are none but friends, (To own the truth) we have some private ends. Swift—Epilogue to a Benefit Play for the Distressed Weavers. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Browne}}) | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Miserum est tacere cogi, quod cupias loqui. You are in a pitiable condition when you have to conceal what you wish to tell. Syrus—Maxims. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Let your left hand turn away what your right hand attracts. Talmud. Sota. 47. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Taciturn vivit sub pectore vulnus. The secret wound still lives within the breast. Vergil—Æneid. IV. 67. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

SELF-EXAMINATION

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = As I walk'd by myself, I tallc'd to myself And myself replied to me; And the questions myself then put to myself, With their answers I give to thee. Barnard Barton—Colloquy with Myself. Appeared in Youth's Instructor, Dec, 1826. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Summe up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay And growth of it; if, with thy watch, that too Be down then winde up both ; since we shall be Most surely judg'd, make thy accounts agree. | author = Herbert | work = The Temple. The Church Porch. Next to last stanza. . | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = One self-approving hour whole years out-weighs Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas. | author = Pope | work = Essay on Man. | place = Ep. IV. L. 249. . | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Speak no more: Thou turn'st mine eyes into my vory soul; And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave their tinct. Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 88. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Go to your bosom ; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know. | author = | work = Measure for Measure. | place = Act II. Sc. 2. L. 136. | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Let not soft slumber close your eyes, Before you've collected thrice The train of action through the day! Where have my feet chose out their way? What have I learnt, where'er I've been, From all I've beard, from all I've seen? What have I more that's worth the knowing? What have I done that's worth the doing? What have I sought that I should shun? What duty have I left undone, Or into what new follies run? These self-inquiries are the road That lead to virtue and to God. Isaac Watts—Self Examination. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast. Wordsworth—The Excursion. Bk. IV. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = "Ks greatly wise to talk with our past hours; And ask them what report they bore to heaven: And how they might have borne more welcome news. Young—Night Thoughts. Night II. L. 376. | author =  | work =  | place =  | note =  | topic =  | page = 696 }}

SELFISHNESS

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Chacun chez soi, chacun pour soi. Every one for his home, every one for himself. M. Dupin. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Where all are selfish, the sage is no better than the fool, and only rather more dangerous. Froude—Short Studies on Great Subjects. Party Politics. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Esto, ut nunc multi. dives tibi pauper amicis. Be, as many now are, luxurious to yourself, parsimonious to your friends. Juvenal—Satires. V. US. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = As for the largest-hearted of us, what is the word we write most often in our cheque-books? —"Self." Eden Phillpotts—A Shadow Passes. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonour'd and unsung. Scott—Lay of the Last Minsirel. Canto VI. St. 1. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = What need we any spur but our own cause, To prick us to redress? Julius Ceasar. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 123. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight. | author = Tennyson | work = Locksley Hall. L. 33. . | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Selfishness is the only real atheism; aspiration, unselfishness, the only real religion. Zanqwill—Children of the Ghetto. Bk. n. Ch. 16. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 696 }}


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 SOLDIERS SOLDIERS

 * 1) Soldiers ##

(See also, )

Dormer, how can I behold thy fate, And not the wonders of thy youth relate; How can I see the gay, the brave, the young, Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung! In joys of conquest he resigns his breath, And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death. | author = Addison | work = Campaign. To Philip Dormer. . | place = | note = | topic = Soldiers | page = 725 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Ay me! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron! Butler—Hudibras. Pt. I. Canto III. L. 1. | seealso = (See also {{sc|English}} under {{sc|Woman) Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae! Byron—Don Juan. Canto III. St. 86. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Soldiers | page = 725 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven, His back to earth, his face to heaven. | author = Byron | work = Giaour. L. 675. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Soldiers | page = 725 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = For the army is a school in which the miser becomes generous, and the generous prodigal; miserly soldiers are like monsters, but very rarely seen. | author = Cervantes | work = Don Quixote. | place = Ch. XXXIX. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Soldiers | page = 725 }} {{block center/e}}


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YUKON

YVETTE (River)


text: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/The Poetry of Earth


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4 And a fragrance, fresh exhaling,

Greets her loveliness new-born,

Midst divine melodic voicings,

Midst delicious mute rejoicings,

Strong as when the worlds began,

Awakens Pan!


text:
User:Inductiveload/Scripts/Universal batch image to DJVU converter

This is a script to convert a directory of images (or a list of images in a text file) to DjVu automatically. It requires Python, Imagemagick and Djvulibre.

 * /Windows/ - this version was working last time I used Windows. It is not currently being worked on, but I will answer queries and bug reports at my talk page.
 * /Linux/ - this is the version I use now, but I haven't used it extensively yet, so bugs may still exist.


text: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/Through the Rushes


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 328

{{Hoyt quote | num = 1 | text = * * * his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. I. L. 162. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Tennyson) | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 2 | text = Since good, the more Communicated, more abundant grows. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. V. L. 71. | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 3 | text = A glass is good, and a lass is good, And a pipe to smoke in cold weather; The world is good, and the people are good, And we're all good fellows together. JohnO'Keefe—Sprigs of Laurel. Act II. Sc. 1. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I know and love the good, yet ah! the worst pursue. Petrarch—To Laura in Life. Canzone XXI. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = 5 | text = Itidemque ut ssepe jam in multis locis, Plus insciens quis fecit quam prodens boni. And so it happens oft in many instances; more good is done without our knowledge than by us intended. Plautus—Captivi Prologue. XLIV. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Bono ingenio me esse ornatam, quam auro multo mavolo. Aurum fortuna invenitur, natura ingenium donum. Bonam ego, quam beatam me esse nimio dici mavolo. A good disposition I far prefer to gold; for gold is the gift of fortune; goodness of disposition is the gift of nature. I prefer much rather to be called good than fortunate. Plauttts—Phasnulus. I. 2. 90. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Gute Menschen konnen sich leichter in schlimme hineindenken als diese injene. Good men can more easily see through bad men than the latter can the former. Jean Paul Richter—Hesperus. IV. You're good for Madge or good for Cis Or good for Kate, maybe: But what's to me the good of this While you're not good for me? Christina Rossetti—Jessie Cameron. St. 3. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Esse quam videri bonus malebat. He preferred to be good, rather than to seem so. Sallust—Catlina. LIV. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon also be beautiful. Sappho—Fragment. 101. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Bonitas non est pessimis esse meliorem. It is not goodness to be better than the very worst. Seneca—Epistoloe Ad Lucilium. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it; And nothing is at a like goodness still; For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, Dies in his own too much. Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 7. L. 115. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. | author = | work = Henry V. | place = Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 4. | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Your great goodness, out of holy pity, Absolv'd him with an axe. Henry VIII. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 263. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I am in this earthly world; where to do harm, Is often laudable, to do good sometime Accounted dangerous folly. Macbeth. ActrV. Sc. 2. L. 75. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = My meaning in saying he is a good man is to have you understand me that he is sufficient. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 14. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, Do all the good you can, To all the people you can, In all the ways you can, As long as ever you can. Tombstone Inscription in Shrewsbury, England. Favorite of Mr. Moody. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = For who is there but you? who not only claim to be a good man and a gentleman, for many are this, and yet have not the power of making others good. Whereas you are not only good yourself, but also the cause of goodness in others. Socrates to Protagoras. See Plato. Jowett's trans. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Henry V}} under {{sc|War}}) | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = How pleasant is Saturday night, When I've tried all the week to be good, Not spoken a word that is bad, And obliged every one that I could. Nancy Dennis Sproat—How Pleasant is Saturday Night. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = One person I have to make good : myself. But my duty to my neighbor is much more nearly expressed by saying that I have to make him happy —if I may. Stevenson—Christmas Sermon. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = She has more goodness in her little finger than he has in his whole body. Swift—Polite Conversation. Dialogue H. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = O, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will Defects of doubt and taints of blood. | author = Tennyson | work = InMemoriam. LIV. 1. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Brooke, Milton, Thomson;. | place =  | note =  | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = 'Tis only noble to be good. | author = Tennyson | work = Lady Clara Vere de Fere. Same in Juvenal—Satires. VIII. 24. | place = | note = | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = From seeming evil still educing good. | author = Thomson | work = Hymn. | place = L. 114. | note = | seealso = (See also {{sc|Tennyson}}) | topic = Goodness | page = 328 }}


text: Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/23


text:
Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/788

750

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Wide are the meadows of night And daisies are shining there, Tossing their lovely dews, Lustrous and fair; And through these sweet fields go, ' Wanderers amid the stars— Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars. Walter De La Mare—The Wanderers. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Longfellow) The star that bids the shepherd fold, Now the top of heaven doth hold. | author = Milton | work = Cotoms. L. 93. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Stars | page = 750 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = So sinks the day-star in the ocean-bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky. | author = Milton | work = Lycidas. L. 168. Brightest seraph, tell In which of all these shining orbs hath man His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none, But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. III. L. 667. At whose sight all the stars Hide their diminish 'H heads. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. IV. L. 34. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Pope}}) Now glowed the firmament With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. IV. L. 604. The starry cope Of heaven. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. W. L. 992. And set them in the firmament of heav'n, T' illuminate the earth, and rule the day In their vicissitude, and rule the night. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. VII. L. 348. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = Stars | page = 750 }}
 * And made the stars,


text:
User:Inductiveload/Scripts/Universal batch image to DJVU converter/Linux

This script will take either a directory of images or a list of image files and collate them in order into a DJVU file. This script needs Imagemagick, and you have to specify the Imagemagick and DjvuLibre paths inside the script to match your system. The script can handle JPG, PNG, TIFF, GIF, and any other file that Imagemagick can convert to PPM.

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir" -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * To convert a directory of images in alphabetical order (all filetypes)

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir" -b -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * To convert a directory of images as bitonal:

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir" -e .jpg -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * To convert a directory of images in alphabetical order (jpgs only)

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir\list.txt" -l -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * To convert a list of images in a text file

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir" -r -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * To convert a directory of images numbered sequentially by Windows ("a (0).jpg", "a (1).jpg"..."a (10).jpg"...)

Add the "-d" flag
 * Debugging messages

python djvuify.py -i "C:\dir" -q 48 -o "C:\dir\out.djvu"
 * Set DJVU quality for anthing but TIFF and bitonal, use "-q" parameter (you can go up to 48, the highest quality):


text:
User talk:205.222.248.136

Welcome

Hello, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for your contributions. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:

 * Help pages
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You are welcome to continue editing articles without logging in, but you may wish to  [ create an account] . Doing so is free, requires no personal information, and provides several benefits. For one thing, if you continue to edit without a username, your IP address is used to publicly identify you.

In any case, I hope you enjoy donating your time to grow the Wikisource library that is free for everyone to use! In discussions, please sign your comments using four tildes ( ~ ); this will automatically produce your IP address (or username if you're logged in) and the date. If you need help, ask me on my talk page, or ask your question here (click  [ edit] ) and place  before your question. Again, welcome! — billinghurst  sDrewth  00:52, 7 December 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:205.222.248.136


text:
Page:Story of the robins.djvu/53

CHAPTER IV.

JOE THE GARDENER BRINGS NEWS OF THE BIRDS' NEST TO HARRIET AND FREDERICK.

the terrible commotions related in the last chapter passed in the nest, the monster, who was no other than honest Joe the gardener, went to the house and inquired for his young master and mistress, having, as he justly supposed, some very pleasing news to tell them. Both the young gentleman and lady very readily attended, thinking he had got some fruit or flowers for them. "Well, Joe," said Miss Benson, "what have you to say to us? Have you got a peach or a nectarine, or have you brought me a root of sweet-william?"

"No, Miss Harriet," said Joe; "but I have something to tell you that will please you as much as though I had." "What's that? what's that?"

title: Page:Story of the robins.djvu/53


text:
Page:Story of the robins.djvu/54

40 said Frederick. "Why, Master Frederick," said Joe, "a pair of robins have comed mortal often to one place in the orchard lately; so thinks I, these birds have got a nest. So I watches, and watches, and at last I see'd the old hen fly into a hole in the ivy-wall I had a fancy to set my ladder and look in; but as master ordered me not to frighten the birds, I stayed till the old one flew out again, and then I mounted, and there I see'd the little creatures full fledged; and if you and Miss Harriet may go with me, I will show them to you, for the nest is but a little way from the ground, and you may easily get up the step-ladder."

Frederick was in raptures, being confident that these were the identical robins he was so attached to; and, like a little thoughtless boy as he was, he would have gone immediately with the gardener, had not his sister reminded him that it was proper to ask their mamma's leave first; she therefore told Joe she would let him know when she had done so.

When the redbreasts had quieted the fears of their young family, and fed them as usual, they retired to a tree, desiring their little nestlings not to be terrified if the monster should look in upon them again, as it was very probable he would do.

title: Page:Story of the robins.djvu/54


text:
Page:Story of the robins.djvu/55

 Rh They promised to bear the sight as well as they could.

When the old ones were seated in the tree, "It is time," said the father, "to take our nestlings abroad. You see, my love, how very timorous they are; and if we do not use them a little to the world, they will never be able to shift for themselves." "Very true," replied the mother; "they are now well fledged, and therefore, if you please, we will take them out tomorrow; but prepare them for it." "One of the best preparatives," answered her mate, "will be to leave them by themselves a little; therefore we will now take a flight together, and then go back." The mother complied, but she longed to be with her dear family.

When they stopped a little to rest on a tree, "Last year," said the hen redbreast, "it was my misfortune to be deprived of my nestlings by some cruel boys, before they were quite fledged, and it is that which makes me so timid now, that I do not feel comfortable when I am away from them."

"A calamity of the same kind befell me," replied the father; "I never shall forget it. I had been taking a flight in the woods in order to procure some nice morsels for one of my nestlings; when I returned to the place in which I had imprudently built.

title: Page:Story of the robins.djvu/55


text:
Talk:The Secret of Happiness

Pastoral warning: Be aware of any "magical formula”, presents in many popular devotions’ chains and pamphlets.

The 1954 publication into the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, does not condemn any of the 15 prayers of St. Bridget of Sweden per-se, but solely the alleged 15 promises associated to this devotion (That probably was never really written by St. Bridget). It was properly considered "unreliable", in the sense that the Catholic Church never endorses "magical" formulas like 15 times = 15 souls = 15 graces= 15 purgatory releases, etc. But that was the 2nd key reason, not the first, why the Church advised local Bishops not to permit the printing of those deceitful pamphlets. The first reason was theological, in nature, due to some contradiction and absurdity between the content of some promises. However, the orthodoxy, the profundity, the beauty and the Catholic authenticity of the 15 Prayers of St. Bridget are outstanding. Therefore, since just the Stations of the Cross devotion, if properly done, in state of grace, after all proper pastoral dispositions and obligations are fulfilled, can grant any soul different degrees of indulgences, much more so if accompanied by such a wonderful piety devotion, like the 15 Prayers of St. Bridget.

Missionary L. Paul Baron, SSP lpbaron@catholic.org

title: Talk:The Secret of Happiness


text:
Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/54

OWN-GAZING, I behold,

Miraculous by night,

A city all of gold.

Here, there, and everywhere,

In myriad fashion fair,

A mystery untold

Of Light!

Not royal Babylon,

Nor Tyre, nor Rome the great—

In the all-powerful state

Her wisdom and her armèd legions won—

Was so illuminate

As this strange world which, awed, I look upon.

With it compared, the ancient glories fail,

And, in the glow it doth irradiate,

The planets of the firmament grow pale!

Night, birth-fellow to Chaos, never wore

A robe so gemmed before.


text: Our American Holidays - Christmas/The Mother (A Story)


text:
Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/55

Rh The splendor streams

In lines and jets and scintillating gleams

From tower and spire and campanile bright,

And palaces of light.

How beautiful is this

Unmatched Cosmopolis!—

City of wealth and want,

Of pitiless extremes,

Selfish ambitions, pure aspiring dreams;

Whose miseries, remembered, daunt

The bravest spirit hope hath cheered—

This city loved and hated, honored, feared:

This Titan City, bold to dare:

This wounded Might

That, dreading darkness, covers up its care

And hides its gaping hurt 'neath veils of light!

Oh, I have looked on Venice when the moon

Silvered each dark lagoon,

And have in dreams beheld her

Clothed in resplendent pride,

The Adriatic's bride!

Naples I, too, have seen—

An even lovelier Queen—


text:
Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/56

34 And thought that nothing in the world excelled her—

Nay, marvelled, as at close of day

I gazed across her opalescent bay

And saw Vesuvius burn on high

Against the soft Italian sky,

That anything on earth could wear

A charm so past compare!

But, O Manhattan! Glowing now

Against the sombre night,

Thine opulence and squalor hid from sight,

Never was aught more beautiful than thou

Dost in thy calm appear—

So glorified and so transfigured here—

Since the Eternal, to creation stirred,

Breathed from His awful lips the mystic word:—

Let there be Light!


text: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/New York

title: Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume I/New York


text: Unclassified Summary of Evidence for Administrative Review Board in the case of Esmatullah, FNU (2007-11-26)


text:
User:Inductiveload/Scripts/DJVU OCR

This is a script to perform Tesseract-based OCR on a DJVU file. It requires that you have Tesseract and DjvuLibre, and if you want to convert to bitonal images, you also need ImageMagick.

Inspired by this Perl script. This script is designed for Linux, but it can be modified to run on Windows by changing the file paths as needed.

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -u
 * To OCR a DJVU file, and update (-u) the text layer with new text. Without -u, the DJVU will be unaltered.

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -d
 * Enable debugging mode (reports progress), use -d

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -t
 * Enable Tesseract output, use -t

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -b 50%
 * Use ImageMagick to convert to bitonal with a given threshold

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -o ~/TRANSCRIPT.txt
 * Output a human-readable transcript of the DJVU file to a given location

python ocr-djvu-tesseract.py -i ~/INFILE.djvu -l LANG
 * Use a Tesseract language other than English

title: User:Inductiveload/Scripts/DJVU OCR


text:
Talk:SSM to Information Systems: A Wittgensteinian Approach

This paper is in the process of being uploaded.--Logicalgregory (talk) 04:17, 7 December 2010 (UTC) The upload is now complete but some more proofreading may be required. --Logicalgregory (talk) 07:19, 11 December 2010 (UTC)


text:
Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/143

Rh


text:
Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/144

106

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The man that makes a character, makes foes. Yoxmo—Epistles to Mr. Pope. Ep. I. L. 28. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Tennyson) The man who consecrates his hours By vlg'rous effort and an honest aim, At once he draws the sting of life and death; He walks with nature and her paths are peace. Young—Night Thoughts. Night H. L. 187. CHARITY | seealso = (See also {{sc|Philanthropy}}) | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = In charity to all mankind, bearing no malice or ill-will to any human being, and even compassionating those who hold in bondage their fellow-men, not knowing what they do. John Qdtncy Adams—Letter to A. Branson. July 30, 1838. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Lincoln}} under {{sc|Right}}) | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Charity is a virtue of the heart, and not of the hands. | author = Addison | work = The Guardian. No. 166. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 106 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The desire of power in excess caused the angels to fall; the desire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall; but in charity there is no excess, neither can angel or man come in danger by it. • Bacon—Essay. On Goodness. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 106 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Charity and treating begin at home. | author = Beaumont and Fletcher | work = Wit vrithoitt Money. Sc. 2. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 106 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Let themjlearn first to show pity at home. | author = Beaumont and Fletcher | work = Wit iviihout Money. Sc. 2. Marston—Histrio-Matrix. 3. 165. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Grefs, Montluc, Pope, Sheridan Smith, Terence, Timothy }}) | topic = | page = }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The voice of the world ["Charity begins at home"]. Sir Thomas Browne—Religio Medici. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 106 }}


text:
Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/142

104

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Quasris Alcidae parem? Nemo est nisi ipse. Do you seek Alcides' equal? None is, except himself. Seneca—Hercules Furens. I. 1. 84. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Massingee) I know him a notorious liar, Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him, That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Look bleak i' the cold wind. All's Well That Ends Well. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 111. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind, Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Comedy of Errors. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 19. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Though I am not splenitive and rash, Yet have I something in me dangerous. Hamlet. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 285. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 154. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff ; but a Corinthian, glad of mettle, a good boy. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 4. L. 12. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = What a frosty-spirited rogue is this! Henry IV. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 21. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = This bold bad man. Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. 2. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Spenseh}}) | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: " And that which would appear offence in us. His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness. Julius Caesar. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 157. | author =  | work =  | place =  | note =  | topic =  | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Thou art most rich, being poor; Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon. King Lear. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 252. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I do profess to be no less thaii I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish. King Lear. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 14. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play False, And yet wouldst wrongly win. Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 21. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name. Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 57. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history Fully unfold. | author = | work = Measure for Measure. | place = Act I. Sc. 1. L. 28. | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper: And other of such vinegar aspect That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 51. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = When he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 94. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; therefore bear you the lantern. Much Ado About Nothing. Act III. Sc. 3. L. 20. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Why, now I see there's mettle in thee, and even from this instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Othello. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 205. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = He hath a daily beauty in his life That makes me ugly. Othello. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 19. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = O do not slander him, for he is kind. Eight; as snow in harvest. Richard III. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 240. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Now do I play the touch, To try if thou be current gold indeed. Richard III. Act rV. Sc. 2. L. 9. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = How this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! How big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret. Timon of Athens. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 30. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The trick of singularity. Twelfth Night. Act II. Sc. 5. L. 164. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = He wants wit that wants resolved will. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act II. Sc. 6. L. 12. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act II. Sc. 7. L.75. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = s headstrong as an allegory on the banks of the Nile. Sheridan—Rivals. Act III. St. 3. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 104 }}


text:
User:Jarekt/vector.css

/* suppress text copyright statement */ div#editpage-copywarn { display: none } div#editpage-copywarn2 { display: none }

/* Get RID of fund raiser advert */
 * 1) siteNotice { display:none }

title: User:Jarekt/vector.css


text:
Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/44

 the mixed society for which they legislate a lower standard of marital obligation than the ideal. The legitimacy of their action must depend on the adequacy of their plea of expediency. They do not claim to legislate for Christians as such, but for citizens, who may, or may not, be Christians. Re-marriage after divorce is so far from being disallowed by Christ that, in the only case of divorce which He contemplates, it must be assumed as permissible, since divorce apart from liberty of re-marriage was unknown to His contemporaries. Moreover, it is an abuse of language, unintentional but none the less grave, to apply to Christ's teaching in the Sermon on the Mount the name and character of "legislation" in the political sense of the word. Bishop Gore himself recognises this earlier in his book when he says that the Sermon on the Mount "teaches, not by negative enactments or by literal enactments at all, but by principles, positive and weighty principles."

title: Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/44


text:
Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/45

 In the third place, Christ clearly taught that the complete content of His revelation would be gradually perceived as time went on. His promise of the Spirit of Truth carried with it an implicit warning against premature conclusions as to the practical meaning of His religion. There would be, He said, within the society of believers a divine influence of guidance and illumination, which would from age to age interpret experience and apply the principles of the everlasting Gospel to the novel circumstances of human life. If we would understand rightly the law of marriage according to Christ we cannot limit ourselves to a few texts from the Gospels, however important these may be, but we must take into our reckoning the whole movement of Christian thought during the many centuries of the existence of Christianity, and in the power of the Holy Spirit, present still as always before with Christian men, determine what shall be the actual obligation of discipleship here and now.

title: Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/45


text:
Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/46

 Bearing these important considerations in mind we may proceed to collect the evidence of the New Testament as to the doctrine of our Lord on the subject of marriage. How far, if at all, did He modify the current practice? In the Sermon on the Mount our Lord sets in contrast the laws of His spiritual kingdom and the actual system of the Jews. He was not legislating in the true sense of the term, but rather laying down broad principles of action. And this He did positively by stating in its extremest form the action which the right principle would require, if it were logically applied without hindrance or mitigation: and negatively, by showing what the wrong principle implied even in its least important applications. The whole passage treating of the intercourse of the sexes runs as follows:

"Ye have heard that it was said, Thou shalt not commit adultery: but I say unto you, that every one that looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart … It was also said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give

title: Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/46


text:
Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/47

 her a writing of divorcement: but I say unto you, that every one that putteth away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, maketh her an adulteress; and whosoever shall marry her when she is put away committeth adultery."

Later in the Gospel we have this declaration repeated in an extremely interesting connection. The narrative must be read as a whole:

"And there came unto him Pharisees, tempting him, and saying, Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause? And he answered and said, Have ye not read, that he which made them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother and shall cleave to his wife; and the twain shall become one flesh? so that they are no more twain, but one flesh. What there fore God hath joined together let not man put asunder. They say unto him, Why then did Moses command to give a bill of divorcement, and to put her away? He saith unto them, Moses for your hardness of heart suffered you to put away your wives: but from the beginning it hath not been so. And I say unto you, Whosoever shall put away his wife, except for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery: and he that marrieth her when she is put away committeth adultery. The disciples say unto him, If the case of the man is so with his wife, it is not expedient to marry. But he said unto them, All men cannot receive this saying, but they to whom it is given. For

title: Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/47


text:
Edwin Brothertoft

Contents

 * Part I
 * Chapter I
 * Chapter II
 * Chapter III
 * Chapter IV
 * Chapter V
 * Chapter VI
 * Chapter VII
 * Chapter VIII
 * Chapter IX
 * Part II
 * Chapter I
 * Chapter II
 * Chapter III
 * Chapter IV
 * Chapter V
 * Chapter VI
 * Chapter VII
 * Chapter VII
 * Part III
 * Chapter I
 * Chapter II
 * Chapter III
 * Chapter IV
 * Chapter V
 * Chapter VI
 * Chapter VII
 * Chapter VIII
 * Chapter IX
 * Chapter X
 * Chapter XI
 * Chapter XII
 * Chapter XIII
 * Chapter XIV
 * Chapter XV
 * Chapter XVI
 * Chapter XVII
 * Chapter XVIII
 * Chapter XIX
 * Chapter XX
 * Chapter XXI
 * Chapter XXII
 * Chapter XXIII
 * Chapter XXIV
 * Chapter XXV
 * Chapter XXVI

title: Edwin Brothertoft


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Page:Christian Marriage.djvu/48

 there are eunuchs, which were so born from their mother's womb: and there are eunuchs, which were made eunuchs by men: and there are eunuchs, which made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of Heaven's sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it."

In the Gospel according to St. Mark this narrative is somewhat differently rendered. Our Lord's condemnation of divorce is represented as an answer to the questioning of His disciples "in the house", and the exception in the case of adultery is omitted. The Evangelist appears to have added an explanatory extension of our Lord's words for the benefit of Roman readers, among whom it was permitted for the wife to divorce the husband, a franchise which the Jews did not allow.

"He saith unto them, Whosoever shall put away his wife, and marry another, committeth adultery against her: and if she herself shall put away her husband, and marry another, she committeth adultery."

In St. Luke's Gospel we have the same absolute prohibition of divorce repeated, but in

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 a context which seems doubtful. The passage runs thus:

In the fourth Gospel there is the touching history of the woman taken in adultery, whom Christ did not condemn, but this carries no clear indication of His mind on the subject of marriage. The point of the story is the unseemliness of moral severity in those who are themselves immoral.

Finally, in the Epistle to the Corinthians St. Paul quotes a commandment of the Lord to the following effect:

When we consider carefully these passages it is hard to avoid the conclusion, that they all relate to the same incident, and are repetitions

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 more or less exact of one pronouncement. Our Lord's words are to be interpreted in connection with the challenge of the Pharisees which called them forth. This challenge certainly appears to be most correctly stated in the Gospel according to St. Matthew. "Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause?" The judgment of Christ was demanded on the question which at the moment divided the religious world of Israel. The rival schools of Hillel and Shammai contended as to the interpretation of the Deuteronomic law of divorce. The text of that law was ambiguous.

The question in debate was the measure of liberty of divorce granted in these words of the Law. The school of Hillel explained them

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 to give an unlimited liberty to the husband. He was himself judge of what should constitute an adequate justification for divorce. He might, in the phrase of our Lord's questioners, "put away his wife for every cause." The opposing school of Shammai took a stricter and worthier view. The words could not possibly carry so scandalous a sense. They must be supposed to restrict the causes of lawful divorce to one—the act of adultery.

Our Lord decides on the question of interpretation in favour of the laxer school; on the main question He emphatically endorses the view of the stricter moralists, who had read into the statute the nobler teaching of the prophets. Challenged by the Pharisees how He could reconcile these decisions, He declared the essentially contingent, and therefore transitory, character of the Mosaic legislation, and pointed to the true nature of the marriage union as declared in the record of Creation. Marriage is indissoluble save for one fact which destroys its presupposition. Divorce for any

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 other cause than adultery has no moral validity however complete may be its legal sanction. To put away a wife for a trivial cause was to "make her an adulteress," that is, to degrade her into that category and treat her accordingly. This extreme injustice, however, could not alter the fact. Wife she continued to be, though the bill of divorcement were in her hand, and whosoever married her, thus unrighteously divorced, was really as much guilty of adultery as if he had taken her from her husband's house.

Now I think, when Christ's words are thus held strictly to their connection with the historic situation in which they were uttered, the absence of the saving clause in St. Mark's version of His speech becomes comparatively unimportant. There was no question anywhere of a total prohibition of divorce. Both the rival schools accepted the validity of the Deuteronomic rule, and only differed about the range of its application. In the actual expressions ascribed to Christ by St. Mark there

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 seems implied an allusion to the injustice implied in such frivolous divorces as the Jews admitted. "Whosoever shall put away his wife, and marry another, committeth adultery against her," that is, with respect to his discarded partner, since she is really still his wife.

I cannot doubt that He referred, and that His words were understood to refer, to such frivolous divorces as were common among the Jews and directly in debate between the Rabbinic schools. He proclaimed the indissoluble character of the marriage union, that is, its indissolubleness as against the provisions of human law, but He emphasised the gravity of that sin which, by its own mere force, cancelled and destroyed the natural union. "Precisely as divorce does not break the marriage tie, adultery does break it." The very reason why divorce for any other cause is invalid morally justifies, nay requires, divorce in the case of adultery.

Accordingly I am constrained to conclude

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 that the words of Christ are unduly pressed when it is said that "He gave no sanction to any divorce which was supposed to carry with it a right to marry again, before at least death had severed the bond." He taught rather that adultery destroyed the marriage bond. The ancients knew no divorce which did not carry the right to marry again, and Christ, in disallowing the re-marriage of those who were divorced for any cause save for the cause of adultery, cannot reasonably be supposed to prohibit the re-marriage of the divorced in that special case.

The late Provost Salmon speaks with decision on this point:

"It is contended that in this case [of the wife's adultery] a man may put away his wife, that is to say, may separate her from bed and board, but still consider her so much his wife as to be incapable of marriage with another. But I do not know of any evidence that in our Lord's time there had been invented this method of acknowledging a woman to be a wife, but treating her as if she were not. If divorce to this extent is permissible, and if we are not to interpret the limitation in Matthew as putting a distinction between adultery and other causes for separation, the law of Deuteronomy

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 practically remains in force. A man in whose eyes his wife, for any cause, does not find favour, may deal with her as the husband of an adulterous wife is permitted to do; and, provided he does not marry again, need not regard his vow to love his wife, comfort her, honour and keep her."

Commenting on the passages Mark x. 3-9 and Matt. xix. 4-8 he makes this just observation:

The basis on which Christ makes the exception is nothing less than the destructive character of the act of adultery. Divorce was but the legal declaration of an accomplished fact; the marriage bond had already been dissolved by the act of infidelity, the sentence of a human tribunal did but certify the fact.

It has been objected to this view that an

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Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter I

Chapter I.
The Cavaliers always ran when they saw Puritan Colonel Brothertoft and his troop of white horses coming.

They ran from the lost battle of Horncastle, in the days of the great rebellion, and the Colonel chased.

North and West he chased over the heaths and wolds of his native Lincolnshire. Every leap took him farther away from the peaked turrets of Brothertoft Manor-House, — his home, midway between the towers of Lincoln Cathedral and Boston on the Witham.

Late at night he rode wearily back to Horncastle. He first took care that those famous horses were fed a good feed, after their good fight and brave chase, and then laid himself down in his cloak to sleep beside Cromwell and Fairfax. Presently a youth on a white horse came galloping into the town, up to the quaint house where the Colonel quartered, and shouted for him. Brothertoft looked out at the window. By the faint light he recognized young Galsworthy, son of his richest tenant and trustiest follower.

“The King’s people have attacked the Manor-House,” cried the boy. “My lady is trying to hold it with the servants. I come for help.”

In a moment a score of men were mounted and dashing southward. Ten miles to go. They knew every foot of it. The twenty white horses galloped close, and took their leaps together steadily, — an heroic sight to be seen in that clear, frosty night of October!

The fire of dawn already glimmered in the east when they began to see another fire on the southern horizon. The Colonel’s heart told him whose towers were burning. They rode their best; but they had miles to go, and the red flames outran them.

Colonel Brothertoft said not a word. He spurred on, and close at his heels came the troop, with the fire shining on their corselets and gleaming in the eyes of their horses.

Safe! yes; the house might go, — for his dear wife was safe, and his dear son, his little namesake Edwin, was safe in her arms.

The brave lady too had beaten off the marauders. But fight fire as they would, they could rescue only one angle of the mansion. That “curious new brique fabrick, four square, with a turret at each corner, two good Courts, a fine Library, and most romantick Wildernesse; a pleasant noble seat, worthie to be noted by alle,” — so it is described in an Itinerary of 1620, — had been made to bear the penalty for its master’s faith to Freedom.

“There is no service without suffering,” he quietly said, as he stood with the fair Lucy, his wife, after sunrise, before the smoking ruins.

He looked west over the green uplands of his manor, and east over his broad acres of fenny land, billowy with rank grass, and all the beloved scene seemed strange and unlovely to him. Even the three beautiful towers of Lincoln Cathedral full in view, his old companions and monitors, now emphasized the devastation of his home.

He could not dally with regrets. There was still work for him and the Brothertoft horses to do. He must leave his wife well guarded, and gallop back.

So there was a parting and a group, — the fair wife, the devoted soldier, the white charger, and the child awakened to say good-bye, and scared at his father’s glinting corselet, — a group such as a painter loves.

The Colonel bore westward to cross the line of march of the Parliamentary army, and by and by, as he drew nearer the three towers of Lincoln, they began to talk to him by Great Tom, the bell.

From his youth up, the Great Tom of Lincoln, then in full swing and full roar, had aroused, warned, calmed, and comforted him, singing to him, along the west wind, pious chants, merry refrains, graceful madrigals, stirring lyrics, more than could be repeated, even “if all the geese in Lincoln’s fens Produced spontaneous well-made pens,” and every pen were a writer of poetry and music.

To-day Great Tom had but one verse to repeat,

 * “Westward ho! A new home across the seas.”

This was its stern command to the Puritan Colonel, saddened by the harm and cruelty of war.

“Yes, my old oracle,” he replied, “if we fail, if we lose Liberty here, I will obey, and seek it in the New World.”

For a time it seemed that they had not failed. England became a Commonwealth. Brothertoft returned in peace to his dismantled home. Its ancient splendors could never be restored. Three fourths of the patriot’s estate were gone. He was too generous to require back from his party, in its success, what he had frankly given for the nation’s weal. He lived quietly and sparingly. His sole extravagance was, that, as a monument of bygone grandeur, he commissioned Sir Anthony Vandyck to paint him, his wife, his boy, and the white charger, as they stood grouped for the parting the morning of the fire.

So green ivy covered the ruins, and for years Great Tom of Lincoln never renewed its sentence of exile.

Time passed. Kingly Oliver died. There was no Protector blood in gentle Richard Cromwell. He could not wield the land. “Ho for cavaliers! hey for cavaliers!” In came the Merrie Monarch. Out Puritans, and in Nell Gwynn! Out crop-ears and in love-locks! Away sad colors! only frippery is the mode. To prison stout John Bunyan; to office slight Sam Pepys! To your blind study, John Milton, and indite Paradise Lost; to Whitehall, John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, and scribble your poem, “Nothing!” Yes; go Bigotry, your jackboots smell unsavory; enter Prelacy in fine linen and perfume! Procul! O procul! Libertas! for, alas! English knees bend to the King’s mistress, and English voices swear, “The King can do no wrong.” Boom sullenly, Great Tom of Lincoln, the dirge of Freedom!

Ring solemnly, Great Tom of Lincoln, to Colonel Brothertoft the stern command revived. Syllable again along the west wind the sentence of exile, —

 * “Westward ho! A new home across the seas!”

Every day the nation cringed baser and baser. Every day the great bell, from its station high above all the land, shouted more vehemently to the lord of Brothertoft Manor to shake the dust from his feet, and withdraw himself from among a people grown utterly dastard. His young hopes were perished. His old associates were slain or silenced. He would go.

And just at this moment, when in 1665 all freedom was dead in England, Winthrop of Connecticut wrote to his friend at Brothertoft Manor: “We have conquered the Province of New Netherlands. The land is goodlie, and there is a great brave river running through the midst of it. Sell thy Manor, bring thy people, and come to us. We need thee, and the like of thee, in our new communities. We have brawn enow, and much godlinesse and singing of psalms; but gentlemen and gentlewomen be few among us.”

So farewell to England, debauched and disgraced! Great Tom of Lincoln tolled farewell, and the beautiful tower of St. Botolph’s at Boston saw the exiles out to sea.

title: Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter I


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Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter II

Chapter II.
Bluff is the bow and round as a pumpkin is the stern of the Dutch brig, swinging to its anchor in the bay of New York. It is the new arrival from England, this sweet autumn day of 1665. The passengers land. Colonel Brothertoft and family! Welcome, chivalric gentleman, to this raw country! You and your class are needed here.

And now disembark a great company of Lincolnshire men, old tenants or old soldiers of the Colonel’s. Their names are thorough Lincolnshire. Here come Wrangles, Swinesheads, Timberlands, Mumbys, Bilsbys, Hogsthorpes, Swillingores, and Galsworthys, old and young, men and women.

These land, and stare about forlornly, after the manner of emigrants. They sit on their boxes, and wish they were well back in the old country. They see the town gallows, an eminent object on the beach, and are taught that where man goes, crime goes also. A frowzy Indian paddles ashore with clams to sell; at this vision, their dismayed scalps tremble on their sinciputs. A sly Dutchman, the fatter prototype of to-day’s emigrant runner, stands before them and says, seductively, “Bier, Schnapps!” They shake their heads firmly, and respond, “Nix!”

Colonel Brothertoft was received with due distinction by Governor Nicolls and Mayor Willet. Old Peter Stuyvesant was almost consoled that Hollanders were sent to their Bouweries to smoke and grow stolid, if such men as this new-comer were to succeed them in power.

The Colonel explored that “great brave river” which Connecticut Winthrop had celebrated in his letter. Its beautiful valley was “all before him where to choose.” Dutch land-patents were plenteous in market as villa sites after a modern panic. Crown grants were to be had from the new proprietary, almost for the asking.

The lord of old Brothertoft Manor selected his square leagues for the new Manor of Brothertoft at the upper end of Westchester County, bordering upon the Highlands of the Hudson. A few pioneer Dutchmen — De Witts, Van Warts, and Canadys — were already colonized there. His Lincolnshire followers soon found their places; but they came from the fens, and did not love the hills, and most of them in time dispersed to flatter country.

The new proprietor’s wealth was considerable for America. He somewhat diminished it by reproducing, as well as colonial workmen could do, that corner of the old manor-house untouched by the fire. It grew up a strange exotic, this fine mansion, in the beautiful wilderness. The “curious fabrick” of little imported bricks, with its peaked turret, its quaint gables, its square bay-window, and grand porch, showed incongruously at first, among the stumps of a clearing.

And there the exiled gentleman tried to live an exotic life. He bestowed about him the furniture of old Brothertoft Manor. He hung his Vandyck on the wall. He laid his presentation copy of Mr. John Milton’s new poem, Paradise Lost, on the table.

But the vigor and dash of the Colonel’s youth were gone. His heart was sick for the failure of liberty at home. The rough commonplace of pioneering wearied him. He had done his last work in life when he uprooted from England, and transferred his race to flourish or wither on the new soil. He had formed the family character; he had set the shining example. Let his son sustain the honor of the name!

The founder of Brothertoft Manor died, and a second Edwin, the young Astyanax of Vandyck’s picture, became the Patroon.

A third Edwin succeeded him, a fourth followed, and in 1736 the fifth Edwin Brothertoft was born. He was an only child, like each of his forefathers. These pages chronicle his great joy and his great sorrow, and how he bore himself at a crisis of his individual life. Whoever runs may read stories like his in the broad light of to-day. This one withdraws itself into the chiaroscuro of a recent past.

The Brothertoft fortunes did not wax on the new continent. Each gentle Edwin transmitted to his heir the Manor docked of a few more square miles, the mansion a little more dilapidated, the furniture more worn and broken, the name a little less significant in the pushing world of the Province.

But each Edwin, with the sword and portrait of the first American, handed down the still more precious heirlooms of the family, — honor unblemished, quick sympathies, a tender heart, a generous hand, refinement, courtesy, — in short, all the qualities of mind and person that go “to grace a gentleman.”

It became the office of each to be the type gentleman of his time.

Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps they were purposely isolated from other offices. Nature takes no small pains to turn out her type blackguard a complete model of ignobility, and makes it his exclusive business to be himself. Why should she not be as careful with the antagonistic order?

The Brothertofts always married women like themselves, the female counterparts of their mild manhood. Each wife blended with her husband. No new elements of character appeared in the only child. Not one of them was a father vigorous enough to found a sturdy clan with broad shoulders and stiff wills, ordained to success from the cradle.

They never held their own in the world, much less took what was another’s. Each was conscious of a certain latent force, and left it latent. They lived weakly, and died young, like fair exotics. They were a mild, inefficient, ineffectual, lovely, decaying race, strong in all the charming qualities, feeble in all the robust ones.

And now let the procession of ancestors fade away into shadows; and let the last shadow lead forth the hero of this history in his proper substance!

title: Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter II


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Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter III

Chapter III.
Edwin Brothertoft, fifth of that name, had been two years at Oxford, toiling at the peaceful tasks and dreaming the fair dreams of a young scholar.

It was the fashion of that time to send young men of property to be educated and Anglicized in England.

Bushwhackers and backwoodsmen the new continent trained to perfection. Most of the Colonists knew that two and two make four, and could put this and that together. But lore, classic or other, — heavy lore out of tomes, — was not to be had short of the old country. The Massachusetts and Connecticut mills, Harvard and Yale, turned out a light article of domestic lore, creditable enough considering their inferior facilities for manufacture; the heavy British stuff was much preferred by those who could afford to import it.

Edwin went to be Anglicized. Destiny meant that he shall not be. His life at Oxford came to a sharp end.

His father wrote: “My son, I am dying the early death of a Brothertoft. I have been foolish enough to lose the last of our fortune. Come home and forgive me!”

Beautiful Oxford! Fair spires and towers and dreamy cloisters, — dusky chapels, and rich old halls, — green gardens, overlooked by lovely oriels, — high avenues of elms for quiet contemplation, — companionship of earnest minds, — a life of simple rules and struggles without pain, how hard it was for the young man to leave all this!

It was mid-January, 1757, when he saw home again.

A bleak prospect. The river was black ice. Dunderberg and the Highlands were chilly with snow. The beech-trees wore their dead leaves, in forlorn protest against the winter-time. The dilapidated Manor-House published the faded fortunes of its tenants.

“Tenants at will,” so said the father to his son, in the parlor where Vandyck’s picture presided.

“Whose will?” Edwin asked.

“Colonel Billop’s.”

“The name is new to me.”

“He is a half-pay officer and ex-army-contractor, — a hard, cruel man. He has made a great fortune, as such men make fortunes.”

“Will his method suit me, father? You know I have mine to make.”

“Hardly. I am afraid you could not trade with the Indians, — a handful of beads for a beaver-skin, a ‘big drunk’ for a bale of them.”

“I am afraid not.”

“I fear your conscience is too tender to let you put off beef that once galloped under the saddle to feed troops.”

“Yes; and I love horses too much to encourage hippophagy.”

“Could you look up men in desperate circumstance, and take their last penny in usury?”

“Is that his method?”

“Certainly. And to crown all, could you seduce your friend into a promising job, make the trustful fool responsible for the losses, and when they came, supply him means to pay them, receiving a ruinous mortgage as security? This is what he has done to me. Do any of these methods suit my son?” asked the elder, with a gentleman’s scorn.

“Meanness and avarice are new to me,” the junior rejoined, with a gentleman’s indignation. “Can a fortune so made profit a man?”

“Billop will not enjoy it. He is dying, too. His heirs will take possession, as mine retire.”

Edwin could not think thus coolly of his father’s death. To check tears, he went on with his queries.

“He has heirs, then, our unenviable successor?”

“One child, heir or heiress; I do not remember which.”

“Heir or heiress, I hope the new tenant will keep the old place in order, until I can win it back for you, father.”

“It cheers me greatly, my dear son,” said the father, with a smile on his worn, desponding face, “to find that you are not crushed by my avowal of poverty.”

“The thought of work exhilarates me,” the younger proudly returned.

“We Brothertofts have always needed the goad of necessity,” said the senior, in apology for himself and his race.

“Now, then, necessity shall make us acquainted with success. I will win it. You shall share it.”

“In the spirit, not in the body. But we will not speak of that. Where will you seek your success, here or there?”

He pointed to Vandyck’s group of the Parliamentary Colonel and his family. The forefather looked kindly down upon his descendants. Each of them closely resembled that mild, heroic gentleman.

“Here or in the land of our ancestors?” the father continued. “Your generation has the choice. No other will. These dull, deboshed Hanoverians on the throne of England will crowd us to revolution, as the Stuarts did the mother country.”

“Then Westchester may need a Brothertoft, as Lincolnshire did,” cries Edwin, ardently. His face flushed, his eye kindled, it seemed as if the Colonel, in the vigor of youth, had stepped down from the canvas.

His father was thrilled. A life could not name itself wasted which had passed to such a son.

“But let us not be visionary, my boy,” he went on more quietly, and with weak doubts of the wisdom of enthusiasm. “England offers a brilliant career to one of your figure, your manners, and your talents. Our friends there do not forget us, as you know, for all our century of rustication here. When I am gone, and the Manor is gone, you will have not one single tie of property or person in America.”

“I love England,” said Edwin, “I love Oxford; the history, the romance, and the hope of England are all packed into that grand old casket of learning; but” — and he turned towards the portrait — “the Colonel embarked us on the continent. He would frown if we gave up the great ship and took to the little pinnace again.”

Clearly the young gentlemen was not Anglicized. He went on gayly to say, “that he knew the big ship was freighted with pine lumber, and manned by Indians, while the pinnace was crammed with jewels, and had a king to steer and peers to pull the halyards; but still he was of a continent, Continental in all his ideas and fancies, and could not condescend to be an Islander.”

Then the gentlemen continued to discuss his decision in a lively tone, and to scheme pleasantly for the future. They knew that gravity would bring them straightway to sadness.

Sadness must come. Both perceived that this meeting was the first in a series of farewells.

Daily interviews of farewell slowly led the father and the son to their hour of final parting.

How tenderly this dear paternal and filial love deepened in those flying weeks of winter. The dying man felt his earthly being sweetly completed by his son’s affection. His had been a somewhat lonely life. The robust manners of his compeers among the Patroons had repelled him. The early death of his wife had depressed and isolated him. No great crisis had happened to arouse and nerve the decaying gentleman.

“Perhaps,” he said, “I should not have accepted a merely negative life, if your mother had been with me to ripen my brave purposes into stout acts. Love is the impelling force of life. Love wisely, my son! lest your career be worse than failure, a hapless ruin and defeat.”

These boding words seemed spoken with the clairvoyance of a dying man. They were the father’s last warnings.

The first mild winds of March melted the snow from the old graveyard of Brothertoft Manor on a mount overlooking the river. There was but a little drift to scrape away from the vault door when they came to lay Edwin Brothertoft, fourth of that name, by the side of his ancestors.

title: Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter III


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Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter IV

Chapter IV.
Four great Patroons came to honor their peer’s funeral.

These were Van Cortlandt, Phillipse with his son-in-law Beverley Robinson, from the neighborhood, and Livingston from above the Highlands.

They saw their old friend’s coffin to its damp shelf, and then walked up to the manor-house for a slice of the funeral baked meats and a libation to the memory of the defunct.

A black servant carved and uncorked for them. He had the grand air, and wielded knife and corkscrew with dignity. Voltaire the gentlemen called him. He seemed proud to bear the name of that eminent destructive.

The guests eat their fat and lean with good appetite. Then they touched glasses, and sighed over another of their order gone.

“The property is all eaten up with mortgages, I hear,” says Phillipse, with an appropriate doleful tone.

“Billop swallows the whole, the infernal usurer!” Van Cortlandt rejoined, looking lugubriously at his fellows, and then cheerfully at his glass.

“He’s too far gone to swallow anything. The Devil has probably got him by this time. He was dying three days ago,” said Beverley Robinson.

“Handsome Jane Billop will be our great heiress,” Livingston in turn remarked. “Let your daughters look to their laurels, Phillipse!”

“My daughters, sir, do not enter the lists with such people.”

“Come, gentlemen,” jolly Van Cortlandt interjected, “another glass, and good luck to our young friend here! I wish he would join us; but I suppose the poor boy must have out his cry alone. What can we do for him? We must stand by our order.”

“I begin to have some faith in the order,” says Livingston, “when it produces such ‘preux chevaliers’ as he. What can we do for him? Take him for your second son-in-law, Phillipse! The lovely Mary is still heart-whole, I believe. Our strapping young friend from Virginia, Master George Washington, has caracoled off, with a tear in his eye and a flea in his ear. Slice off twenty or thirty thousand acres from your manor, marry these young people, and set them up. You are too rich for our latitude and our era.”

Mr. Adolphus Phillipse was a slow coach. The other’s banter teased him.

“Mr. Livingston,” he began, swelling and growing red.

“Come, gentlemen,” cries Van Cortlandt, pacificator, “I have a capital plan for young Brothertoft.”

“What?” Omnes inquire.

“He must marry Jane Billop.”

“Ay, he must marry Jane Billop,” Omnes rejoin.

“A glass to it!” cried the proposer.

“Glasses round!” the seconders echo, with subdued enthusiasm.

“A beauty!” says Van Cortlandt, clinking with Phillipse.

“An heiress!” says Phillipse, clinking on.

“An orphan and only child!” says Robinson, touching glasses with his neighbor.

“Sweet sixteen!” says Livingston, blowing a kiss, and completing the circle of clink.

These jolly boys, old and young, were of a tribe on its way to extinction, with the painted sagamores of tribes before them. First came the red nomad, striding over the continent. In time followed the great Patroon, sprawling over all the acres of a county. Finally arrives the unembarrassed gentleman of our time, nomad in youth, settler at maturity, but bound to no spot, and cribbed in no habitation; and always packed to move, with a brain full of wits and a pocket full of coupons.

The four proprietors finished their libations and sent for Edwin to say good-bye. His deep grief made any suggestion of their marriage scheme an impertinence.

Jolly Van Cortlandt longed to lay his hand kindly on the young man’s shoulder and say, “Don’t grieve, my boy! ‘Omnes moriar,’ as we used to say at school. Come, let me tell you about a happy marriage we’ve planned for you!”

Indeed, he did arrange this little speech in his mind, and consulted Livingston on its delivery.

“Let him alone!” said that ‘magister morum.’ “You know as much of love as of Latin. The match is clearly made in heaven. It will take care of itself. He shall have my good word with the lady, and wherever else he wants it. I love a gentleman.”

“So do I, naturally,” Van says, and he gave the youth honored with this fair title a cordial invitation to his Manor.

The others also offered their houses, hearths, and hearts, sincerely; and then mounted and rode off on their several prosperous and cheerful ways.

Meanwhile, a group of the tenants of the Manor, standing on the sunny side of the vault, had been discussing the late lord and the prospects of his successor. As the elders talked, their sons and heirs played leap-frog over the tombstones, puffed out their cheeks to rival the cherubs over the compliments in doggerel on the slabs, and spelled through the names of extinct Lincolnshire families, people of slow lungs, who had not kept up with the fast climate.

“I feel as if I’d lost a brother,” said Squire Jierck Dewitt, the chief personage among the tenantry.

“A fine mahn, he was!” pronounced Isaac Van Wart, through a warty nose. “But not spry enough, — not spry enough!”

“Anybody could cheat him,” says lean Hendrecus Canady, the root and Indian doctor, who knew his fact by frequent personal experiments.

“Who’d want to cheat a man that was everybody’s friend?” asked old Sam Galsworthy’s hearty voice.

“The boy’s a thorough Brothertoft, mild as a lamb and brave as a lion,” Dewitt continued. “But I don’t like to think of his being flung on the world so young.”

“He can go down to York and set up a newspaper,” Van Wart suggested.

“If I was him, I’d put in for Squire Billop’s gal, and have easy times.” This was the root doctor’s plan.

“Well, if he ever wants a hundred pounds,” says Galsworthy, — “ay, or five hundred, for that matter, — he’s only got to put his hand into my pocket.”

“You can’t put your own hand in, without wrastlin’ a good deal,” Van Wart says.

Sam laughed, and tried. But he was too paunchy.

“I’m a big un,” he said; “but I was a little un when I got back from that scalpin’ trip to Canada, when Horse-Beef Billop was Commissary. I didn’t weigh more ’n the Injun doctor here; and he, and that boy he feeds on yaller pills, won’t balance eight stone together. It’s bad stock, is the Billop. I hope our young man and the Colonel’s gal won’t spark up to each other.”

It was growing dusk. The dead man’s R. I. P. had been pronounced, and the youth’s “Perge puer!“ The tenants, members of a class presently to become extinguished with the Patroons, marched off toward the smokes that signalled their suppers. The sons dismounted from the tombstones and followed. Each of them is his father, in boy form. They prance off, exercising their muscles to pull their pound, by and by, at the progress of this history. Old Sam Galsworthy junior has hard work to keep up with the others, on account of his back load. He carries on his shoulders little Hendrecus Canady, a bolus-fed fellow, his father’s corpus vile to try nostrums upon.

And Edwin Brothertoft sat alone in his lonely home, — his home no more.

Lonely, lonely!

A blank by the fireside, where his father used to sit. A blank in the chamber, where he lay so many days, drifting slowly out of life. Silence now, — silence, which those feeble words of affection, those mild warnings, those earnest prayers, those trailing whispers low from dying lips, would never faintly break again. No dear hand to press. No beloved face to watch sleeping, until it woke into a smile. No face, no touch, no voice; only a want and an absence in that lonely home.

And if, in some dreamy moment, the son seemed to see the dear form steal back to its accustomed place and the dear face appear, the features wore an eager, yet a disappointed look. So much to say, that now could never be said! How the father seemed to long to recover human accents, and urge fresh warnings against the passions that harm the life and gnaw the soul, or to reveal some unknown error sadder than a sin.

And sometimes, too, that vision of the father’s countenance, faint against a background of twilight, was tinged with another sorrow, and the son thought, “He died, and never knew how thoroughly I loved him. Did I ever neglect him? Was I ever cold or careless? That sad face seems to mildly reproach me with some cruel slight.”

The lonely house grew drearier and drearier.

“Colonel Billop,” wrote Mr. Skaats, his agent and executor, “has been removed by an all-wise Providence. Under the present circumstances, Mr. Brothertoft, I do not wish to disturb you. But I should be glad to take possession at the Manor at your earliest convenience.”
 * Respectfully, &c.,

Everything, even the priceless portrait of the Puritan Colonel, was covered by the mortgages. Avarice had licked them all over with its slime, and gaped to bolt the whole at a meal.

Edwin did not wish to see a Skervey Skaats at work swallowing the family heirlooms. He invited Squire Dewitt to act for him with the new proprietor’s representative.

New York, by that time, had become a thriving little town. The silt of the stream of corn that flowed down the Hudson was enriching it. Edwin had brave hopes of making at least his daily bread there with his brains or his hands.

While he was preparing to go, Old Sam Galsworthy appeared with a bag of guineas and a fine white mare of the famous Lincolnshire stock, — such a mare as Colonel Brothertoft used to ride, and Prince Rupert’s men to run from.

“Squire Dewitt told me you were going to trudge to York,” said Sam.

“I was,” replied the orphan; “my legs will take me there finely.”

“It was in my lease,” said Sam, “to pay a mare-colt every year over and above my rent, besides a six-year-old mare for a harriet, whenever the new heir came in.”

“Heriot, I suppose you mean, Sam.”

“We call ’em heriots when they’re horses, and harriets when they’re mares. Well, your father wouldn’t take the colts since twelve year. He said he was agin tribute, and struck the colts and the harriets all out of my lease. So I put the price of a colt aside for him every year, in case hard times come. There’s twelve colts in this buckskin bag, and this mare is the token that I count you the rightful owner of my farm and the whole Manor. I’ve changed her name to Harriet, bein’ one. She’s a stepper, as any man can see with half a blinker. The dollars and the beast is yourn, Mister Edwin.”

Edwin shook his head. “You are very kind, Sam; but I am my father’s son, and against tribute in any form.”

“I haven’t loved your father forty year to see his son go afoot. Ride the mare down, anyhow. She don’t get motion enough, now that I’m too heavy for her, bein’ seventeen stone three pound and a quarter with my coat off.”

Edwin’s pride melted under this loyalty.

“I will ride her then, Sam, and thank you. And give me a luck-penny out of the bag.”

“You’ll not take the whole?” pleaded Galsworthy.

No. And when the root-doctor heard this, he stood Hendrecus Canady junior in a receptive position, and dosed him with a bolus of wisdom, as follows: —

“Men is divided into three factions. Them that grabs their chances. Them that chucks away their chances. And them that lets their chances slide. The Brothertofts have alluz ben of the lettin’-slide faction. This one has jined the Chuckin’-Aways. He’ll never come to nothin’. You just swaller that remark, my son, and keep a digestin’ of it, if you want to come to anything yourself.”

Next morning Edwin took leave of home, and sorrowfully rode away.

A harsh, loud March wind chased him, blowing Harriet Heriot’s tail between her legs. The omens were bad.

But when, early the second morning, the orphan crossed King’s Bridge, and trod the island of his new career, a Gulf Stream wind, smelling of bananas and sounding of palm-leaves, met him, breathing welcome and success.

title: Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter IV


text:
Translation:Catullus 26

Poésies de Catulle/26 Le poesie di Catullo/26 Carmina (Catullus)/26

title: Translation:Catullus 26


text:
Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter V

Chapter V.
With youth, good looks, an English education, the manners and heart of a gentleman, and the Puritan Colonel’s sword, Edwin Brothertoft went to New York to open his oyster.

“Hushed in grim repose,” the world, the oyster, lay with its lips tight locked against the brutal oyster-knives of blackguards.

But at our young blade’s first tap on the shell the oyster gaped.

How pleasant it is to a youth when his oyster gapes, and indolently offers him the succulent morsel within! His oyster is always uneasy at the hinge until it is generously open for an Edwin Brothertoft. He was that fine rarity, a thorough gentleman.

How rare they were then, and are now! rare as great poets, great painters, great seers, great doers. The fingers of my right hand seem too many when I begin to number off the thorough gentlemen of my own day. But were I ten times Briareus, did another hand sprout whenever I wanted a new tally, I never could count the thorough blackguards among my contemporaries. So much shade does it take to make sunshine!

The Colonial world gave attention when it heard a young Brothertoft was about to descend into the arena and wrestle for life.

“So that is he!” was the cry. “How handsome! how graceful! how chivalrous! how brilliant! what a bow he makes! his manners disarm every antagonist! He will not take advantages, they say. He is generous, and has visionary notions about fair play. He thinks a beaten foe should not be trampled on or scalped. He thinks enemies ought to be forgiven, and friends to be sustained, through thick and thin. Well, well! such fancies are venial errors in a young aristocrat.”

The city received him as kindly as it does the same manner of youth now, when its population has increased one hundred-fold.

The chief lawyer said, “Come into my office and copy papers, at a pound a week, and in a year you will be a Hortensius.”

The chief merchant said, “If you like the smell of rum, codfish, and beaver-skins, take a place in my counting-house, at a hundred pounds a year, and correct the spelling of my letters. I promise nothing; but I may want a partner by and by.”

The Governor of the Province and Mayor of the town, dullards, as officials are wont to be, each took the young gentleman aside, and said, “Here is a proclamation of mine! Now punctuate it, and put in some fine writing, — about Greece and Rome, you know, and Magna Charta, with a Latin quotation or two, — and I will find, you a fat job and plenty of pickings!”

The Livingston party proposed to him to go to the Assembly on their votes and fight the De Lanceys. The De Lanceys, in turn, said, “Represent us, and talk those radical Livingstons down.”

Lord London, Commander-in-Chief, swore that Brothertoft was the only gentleman he had seen among the dashed Provincials. “And,” says he, “you speak Iroquois and French, and all that sort of thing. Be my secretary, and I’ll get you a commission in the army, — dashed if I don’t!”

King’s College, just established, to increase the baker’s dozen of educated men in the Colony, offered the young Oxonian a professorship, Metaphysics, Mathematics, Languages, Belles-Lettres, — in fact whatever he pleased; none of the Trustees knew them apart.

Indeed, the Provincial world prostrated itself before this fortunate youth and prayed him, —

“Be the representative Young American! Convince our unappreciative Mother England:
 * “That we do not talk through our noses;
 * “That our language is not lingo;
 * “That we are not slaves of the Almighty Wampum;
 * “That we can produce the Finest Gentlemen, as well as the Biggest Lakes, the Longest Rivers, the Vastest Antres, and the Widest Wildernesses in the World.”

What an oyster-bed, indeed, surrounded our hero!

Alas for him! He presently found a Pearl.

title: Edwin Brothertoft/Part I Chapter V