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 II.

, December 31, 1832.

constitute that great Corporation and body politic I have called The People, which all in these now United States concur in freely acknowledging as their liege Lord and only earthly sovereign by whose fiat all our governments have been created and endowed, and at whose will they may at any time be rightfully dissolved and annihilated? This is the question, which in my last number I promised to examine in this; and I now will proceed to redeem my pledge.

No American is so ignorant of the history of his own country, as not to know, that prior to the commencement of our Revolution, there did not exist anywhere on this vast continent, such a body politic as The People. Then whoever dwelt in America, was either a savage Indian, or the liege subject of some European Sovereign. None of the various savage Tribes who wandered over the surface of much of this continent, had then ever regarded themselves, or been regarded by any others as constituting a fixed Society acknowledging allegiance to any Sovereign, or as constituting that moral and accountable being called a State. Had any civilized man or set of men presumed, at that time, to assert his or their sovereignty here, the assertion would have been considered by all as sedition and the attempt to maintain it by force, as an overt act of treason against his European master; for all white men in America then claimed to be the loyal subjects of some such Lord.

It is true, that in British America, there existed sundry tracts of country delineated upon the geographical charts as British Colonies, the inhabitants of each of which regions were formed into separate and fixed Societies, whose affairs were regulated by long-established governments, the power of each of which


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 was limited by the particular boundaries of its own Colony, their acts having no obligation or force beyond the local limits of such territory. None of these governments, however, exhibited any such body politic as The People, for they all derived their powers, either mediately or immediately, from the British Kings, whose mere agents they ever had been, and then were. Nor were these Societies themselves known by any common name of distinction, but only as the Colony of Virginia, the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, of Canada, of Nova Scotia, and the like; for each of these communities was then separate and distinct, in all things, from every other, the Colonists being connected by no other social or political tie, save that of the allegiance which all acknowledged, not to any People, but to the Crown of Great Britain.

British misrule converted some of these subjects, whose loyalty had once been the highest boast, into sturdy insurgents against the authority they had before delighted to acknowledge; and in triumphant victory they achieved that glorious Revolution, which, under different auspices, might have been branded as a traitorous Rebellion. This Revolution, however, in dissolving the former governments, did not dissolve the former Societies; and years before it was perfected, the Revolt had taken place. No hope could be entertained of ultimate success to this Revolt, unless some new government should be established in the stead of that which had been dissolved, to order and direct proceedings, to sanction acts, to speak and to determine for all its members. But by whom, and for whom, was or could such an Institution as government, be then ordained and established here?

The general answer to this question is obvious. As all government supposes the pre-existence of some established Society, whose affairs it is designed to regulate, and the rules for the Civil conduct of whose members it is required to prescribe, therefore, by none other than some pre-existing and established Society can any government be created or ordained. Even when foreign force is the foundation of government (as is too often the case), still as such force can only be exerted by some established Society over the will of some other Society, or some part of it, when this force is employed with success, the victor Society, while dissolving


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HE scene of this little book is on a high mountain. There are, indeed, many higher; there are many of a nobler outline. It is no place of pilgrimage for the summary globe-trotter; but to one who lives upon its sides, Mount Saint Helena soon becomes a centre of interest. It is the Mont Blanc of one section of the Californian Coast Range, none of its near neighbours rising to one-half its altitude. It looks down on much green, intricate country. It feeds in the spring-time many splashing brooks. From its summit you must have an excellent lesson of geography: seeing, to the south, San Francisco Bay, with Tamalpais on the one hand and Monte Diablo on the other; to the west and thirty miles away, the open ocean; eastward, across the cornlands and thick tule swamps of Sacramento Valley, to where the Central Pacific Railroad begins to climb the sides of the Sierras; and northward, for what I know, the white head of Shasta looking down on Oregon. Three counties, Napa County, Lake County, and Sonoma County, march across its cliffy


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 the former bonds of association of its vanquished antagonists, incorporates them as a part of itself, under whatever conditions it may please to prescribe, and so creates and ordains a government for them. But when the foundation of government is not force, but consent, it would be a paradox to suppose the consent of any others than of those who had the right to consent, that is to say, of the members of that particular pre-existing and established Society for the regulation of whose affairs such government is designed. None then but the pre-existing established Societies in British America, could ordain a government for such Societies, except by force; and the government ordained by any one of these Societies, deriving all its powers from it, could have had no authority except over that Society itself.

When we apply this obvious general conclusion to the facts of the particular case, we must all be at once convinced, that all the primitive governments of the different revolted Colonies of Great Britain must have been ordained and established by the several Societies then existing in the revolted Colonies respectively, and for their own special and particular benefit. Therefore, that none of these governments could have had any other authority than to regulate the affairs of their own creators, and of none others. I say, that these governments must have been so established and so endowed, because at that time there did not exist, nor ever had existed, any such society or community as The People of America, or of the British Colonies in America, or of the revolted British Colonies in America, or under any other name or form, save that of the Colony of Georgia, of South Carolina, etc., etc. Therefore, by these several and distinct communities alone, all our primitive governments must have been, and in point of fact were, ordained and established; and governments being so established, these several communities, their respective authors, thereby assumed to be, and so far as they were severally concerned, became, that great moral and accountable being, a sovereign State, which, having chosen the Democratic form for its government, was known and styled the Commonwealth.

Doubtless the different revolted Colonies might, if they had thought proper, have consented to amalgamate and blend themselves together into one single Society, and then have established


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{{ppoem|start=open|end=follow|<>Enter Caliban, with a burthen of Wood {a noyse of <>Thunderbeard.)

Cal.  All the infections that the Sunne suckes vp From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By ynch-meale a disease: his Spirits heare me, And yet I needes must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with Vrchyn-shewes, pitch me i'th mire, Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke Out of my way, vnlesse he bid 'em; but For euery trifle, are they set vpon me, Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I All wound with Adders, who with clouen tongues Doe hisse me into madnesse: Lo, now Lo, <>Enter Trinculo. Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly: I'le fall flat, Perchance he will not minde me.

''Tri. '' Here's neither bush, nor shrub to beare off any weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it sing ith' winde; yond same blacke cloud, yond huge one, lookes like a soule bumbard that would shed his liquor; if it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by paile-fuls. What haue we here, a man, or a fish? dead or aliue? a fish, hee smels like a fish: a very ancient and fish-like smell: a kinde of, not of the newest poore-John: a strange fish: were I in England now (as once I was) and had but this fish painted; not a holiday-foole there but would giue a peece of siluer: there, would this Monster, make a man: any strange beast there, makes a man: when they will not giue a doit to relieue a lame Begger, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian: Leg'd like a man; and his Finnes like Armes: warme o'my troth: I doe now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an Islander, that hath lately suffered by a Thunderbolt: Alas, the storme is come againe: my best way is to creepe vnder his Gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellowes: I will here shrowd till the dregges of the storme be past.

<>Enter Stephano singing.

Ste. ''I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I dye ashore. '' This is a very scuruy tune to sing at a mans Funerall: well, here's my comfort. >>>Drinkes. ''Sings. The Master, the Swabber, the Boate-swaine & I''; The Gunner, and his Mate Lou'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian and Margerie, But none of vs car'd for Kate. For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a Sailor goe hang: She lou'd not the savour of Tar nor of Pitch, Yet a Tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch. Then to Sea Boyes, and let her goe hang. This is a scuruy tune too: But here's my comfort. >>>drinks.

Cal. Doe not torment me: oh.

Ste. What's the matter? Haue we diuels here? Doe you put trickes vpon's with Saluages, and Men of Inde? ha? I haue not scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your foure legges: for it hath bin said; as proper a man as euer went on foure legs, cannot make him giue ground; and it shall be said so againe, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal.  The Spirit torments me: oh.

Ste.  This is some Monster of the Isle, with foure legs; who hath got (as I take it) an Ague: where the diuell should he learne our language? I will giue him some reliefe if it be but for that: if I can recouer him, and keepe him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a Present for any Emperour that euer trod on Neates-leather.

Cal.  Doe not torment me 'prethee: I'le bring my wood home faster.

Ste.  He's in his fit now; and doe's not talke after the wisest; hee shall taste of my Bottle: if hee haue neuer drunke wine afore, it will goe neere to remoue his Fit: if I can recouer him, and keepe him tame, I will not take too much for him; hee shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

Cal.  Thou do'st me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper workes vpon thee.

Ste.  Come on your wayes: open your mouth: here is that which will giue language to you Cat; open your mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; open your chaps againe.

''Tri. '' I should know that voyce: It should be,}}


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Alonso, K. of Naples: Sebastian his Brother. Prospero, the right Duke of Millaine. Anthonio his brother, the vsurping Duke of Millaine. Ferdinand, Son to the King of Naples. Gonzalo, an honest old Councellor. Adrian, & Francisco, Lords. Caliban, a saluage and deformed slaue. Trinculo, a Iester. Stephano, a drunken Butler. Master of a Ship. Boate-Swaine. Marriners. Miranda, daughter to Prospero. Ariell, an ayrie spirit.

FINIS.

THE


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United States Code/Title 42/Chapter 133

Title 42 — The Public Health and Welfare — Pollution Prevention

title: United States Code/Title 42/Chapter 133


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United States Code/Title 42/Chapter 65

Title 42 — The Public Health and Welfare — Noise Control

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124 shoulders. Its naked peak stands nearly four thousand five hundred feet above the sea; its sides are fringed with forest; and the soil, where it is bare, glows warm with cinnabar.

Life in its shadow goes rustically forward. Bucks, and bears, and rattlesnakes, and former mining operations, are the staple of men's talk. Agriculture has only begun to mount above the valley. And though in a few years from now the whole district may be smiling with farms, passing trains shaking the mountain to the heart, many-windowed hotels lighting up the night like factories, and a prosperous city occupying the site of sleepy Calistoga; yet in the meantime, around the foot of that mountain the silence of nature reigns in a great measure unbroken, and the people of hill and valley go sauntering about their business as in the days before the flood.

To reach Mount Saint Helena from San Francisco, the traveller has twice to cross the bay: once by the busy Oakland Ferry, and again, after an hour or so of the railway, from Vallejo Junction to Vallejo. Thence he takes rail once more to mount the long green strath of Napa Valley.

In all the contractions and expansions of that inland sea, the Bay of San Francisco, there can be few drearier scenes than the Vallejo Ferry. Bald shores and a low, bald islet enclose the sea; through


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Rh the narrows the tide bubbles, muddy like a river. When we made the passage (bound, although yet we knew it not, for Silverado) the steamer jumped, and the black buoys were dancing in the jabble; the ocean breeze blew killing chill; and, although the upper sky was still unflecked with vapour, the sea-fogs were pouring in from seaward, over the hilltops of Marin County, in one great, shapeless, silver cloud. South Vallejo is typical of many Californian towns. It was a blunder; the site has proved untenable; and although it is still such a young place by the scale of Europe, it has already begun to be deserted for its neighbour and namesake, North Vallejo. A long pier, a number of drinking-saloons, a hotel of a great size, marshy pools where the frogs keep up their croaking, and even at high noon the entire absence of any human face or voice—these are the marks of South Vallejo. Yet there was a tall building beside the pier, labelled the Star Flour Mills; and sea-going, full-rigged ships lay close alongshore, waiting for their cargo. Soon these would be plunging round the Horn, soon the flour from the Star Flour Mills would be landed on the wharves of Liverpool. For that, too, is one of England's outposts; thither, to this gaunt mill, across the Atlantic and Pacific deeps and round about the icy Horn, this crowd of great,


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 any sort of government which they chose for this new community. Had they have done so, we should never have heard of the State of Pennsylvania, or the Commonwealth of Virginia. In that event, none of these former communities would have possessed sovereignty, the essential attribute of a State, for all would have sunk and dwindled into mere municipalities, bodies corporate but not politic, created or permitted to exist, not by their own will, but at the will and pleasure of this other more august being "The Nation" by whatever name that "Nation" might have been pleased to baptise itself. But the patriot Sages of that day did not choose so to do.

Nor was this decision the result of any "State pride," or designed "to find advocates" in any "prejudice," although that prejudice might be "honest." No, it was dictated by that profound and sagacious wisdom which can see the future in the past. These patriot Sages had read, and well knew, that Communities occupying different territories of wide extent, situated under different climates, professing different religions, long governed by different laws, having different manners, habits, customs, occupations, and, of course, many different and conflicting interests, could never be melted down into a single Society, and kept together as such, but by a much stronger power than any which they thought it either safe or prudent to create. Such communities, while separate and distinct, might be well and easily confederated, nay, even united, for many purposes useful to all and essential to some, and still continue to enjoy liberty in peace. But the day which should see them compressed into one Society, to be governed by a single overruling consolidated government, would be the eve of that on which their Freedom must be sacrificed to the power of an interested majority, in the very temple dedicated to its perpetual worship, unless the victim might be saved by arms.

Convinced of this, there was not one Statesman in any of these different Colonies at that day, who even proposed, or who even conceived, so far as we know, the wild and mad project of establishing a single Society, to be composed of all the revolted Colonies, and to be regulated by a consolidated "National" government, stretching itself over all. This conception was the product


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126, deep-sea ships come, bringing nothing, and return with bread. The Frisby House, for that was the name of the hotel, was a place of fallen fortunes, like the town. It was now given up to labourers, and partly ruinous. At dinner there was the ordinary display of what is called in the west a two-bit house: the tablecloth checked red and white, the plague of flies, the wire hencoops over the dishes, the great variety and invariable vileness of the food and the rough coatless men devouring it in silence. In our bedroom, the stove would not burn, though it would smoke; and while one window would not open, the other would not shut. There, was a view on a bit of empty road, a few dark houses, a donkey wandering with its shadow on a slope, and a blink of sea, with a tall ship lying anchored in the moonlight. All about that dreary inn frogs sang their ungainly chorus. Early the next morning we mounted the hill along a wooden footway, bridging one marish spot after another. Here and there, as we ascended, we passed a house embowered in white roses. More of the bay became apparent, and soon the blue peak of Tamalpais rose above the green level of the island opposite. It told us we were still but a little way from the city of the Golden Gates, already, at that hour, beginning to awake among the sand-hills. It


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 of an after-day.—How it was treated when it was first presented, I will show at some other time.

Does any one doubt now, whether the first governments established in these now United States, were ordained by the several revolted colonies, each acting as a Sovereign, for itself, and by itself, without any reference to or dependence upon any other colony? Let him consult the history of that day, and he will find that the Revolt was not a simultaneous movement of all these Colonies, but was effected in each by several successive acts performed at different times. Nay, that independent governments had actually been established in several of these colonies, and were in full operation before any declaration of Independence was uttered by them all when assembled in a general Congress. So true is this, that even to this day, it is a matter of amicable contest among several of these different communities, now States, which of them is entitled to the honour of first annulling the Royal Authority within its own domains, and proclaiming itself a patriot Rebel.

Massachusetts claims it and points to the fields of Concord and of Lexington to prove her claim. Virginia claims it, and mentions prior acts of Treason in Arms which she had dared to do. North Carolina claims it and shews her written declaration of Independence, fearlessly promulgated to the world, while some others were yet in doubt which side to take in the struggle to maintain their rights. To Massachusetts and Virginia she might say, your acts of Treason were but Insurrections, for when you performed them you still professed to acknowledge yourselves dependants of the Authority you then resisted in arms; but mine was the first act of glorious Rebellion, for by it I renounced my former allegiance and proclaimed my own Sovereignty.

Does any Virginian sceptic still doubt? I refer him to the date of our first Constitution, to prove that this form of government was ordained and declared by "the Delegates and Representatives of the good People of Virginia" assembled in Convention, before even the date of the declaration of Independence, and long before the signing and promulgation of that act. Referring him also to the language of that Constitution and of its accompanying Declaration of Rights, I ask him to tell me, to whom, after the


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United States Code/Title 33/Chapter 40

Title 33 — Navigation and Navigable Waters — Oil Pollution

title: United States Code/Title 33/Chapter 40


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Rh called to us over the waters as with the voice of a bird. Its stately head, blue as a sapphire on the paler azure of the sky, spoke to us of wider outlooks and the bright Pacific. For Tamalpais stands sentry, like a lighthouse, over the Golden Gates, between the bay and the open ocean, and looks down indifferently on both. Even as we saw and hailed it from Vallejo, seamen, far out at sea, were scanning it with shaded eyes; and, as if to answer to the thought, one of the great ships below began silently to clothe herself with white sails, homeward bound for England. For some way beyond Vallejo the railway led us through bald green pastures. On the west the rough highlands of Marin shut off the ocean; in the midst, in long, straggling, gleaming arms, the bay died out among the grass; there were few trees and few enclosures; the sun shone wide over open uplands, the displumed hills stood clear against the sky. But by-and-by these hills began to draw nearer on either hand, and first thicket and then wood began to clothe their sides; and soon we were away from all signs of the sea's neighbourhood, mounting an inland, irrigated valley. A great variety of oaks stood, now severally, now in a becoming grove, among the fields and vineyards. The towns were compact, in about equal proportions, of bright new wooden houses and great and


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 542 Index of Subjects South Semitic, i 5 (i). Spirants, 6n, 13, 21. Square character, 5 a. Status absolutus of the noun, 89 a. Status constructus, its form, 89 : vowel-changes marking it in many nouns, 91-6: its use, 128: before an adjective treated as a subst., 128 w, 133 h (end), 134 p (end): wider use of it, 130: before preposi- tions, 130a: before relative clauses, 1 30 c, d : in apposition with another constr. St., 1306,/: before numerals, 1340,2?: anomalously with the arti- cle, I2J f-i: before ni, used as a relative, 138 jr (a). Stem-consonants, or radicals, 30 c. Stems, distinguisbed from roots, 30 a, d, g-k. Strengthening (doubling or sharpen- ing) of consonants, 12, 20 : in gutturals, 22 & : virtual, 22 c: to intensify the idea of the stem, 52 a, d : of 3rd radical in fem. and plur. of nouns of the forms D'K, ^Da, 84" h, 93 s, ee, kk, 94 c, 95 g, cf. 93 PS '• virtual sharpening of N , 646: sharpening sometimes omitted in 2nd radical of verbs ]}"]}, 67 g,dd. Subject, omitted in participial clauses, s,t: impersonal, 144 6, c : inde- finite, 144 d-k: two subjects in a verbal clause, 144 I, m : construc- tion of compound subjects, 146. Substantive, its construction with the adjective, 132: as predicate of a noun-clause, 141 b : used as pre- dicate where we should use an adjective, 141 c-d. Suffixes, (pronominal) attached to verbs, 58 : rare, irregular, or poetic, with verb, 58 g. i, k (cf. 59 e-h, 60 d~h, 61 b-e, g, h) : with noun in sing., 91 e, /: in plur. 91 I : the sing, form after ni-, 91 n : with prepositions, 103: 3rd sing. masc. in ii-, 7 c, 58 sr, 91 e : 3rd sing. fem. without Mappiq, 58 g, 91 e, 103 g : omission of n in fem. nouns before suffix, 91 e (end): 3rd plur. iniO, 53fif, 91/, i, io^/N»: omis- sion of "I in plur. nouns before suffix, 9 1 A; : original "i of sing, nouns from n"? stems retained before suffix, 93 ss : denoting the remoter object, I : use of 3rd fem. sing, and 3rd plur. to express 'it', 135 p  anticipating the object (as in Aram.), 131 m,o: apparent verbal forms attached to nouns used as adverbs, looo.p: anticipating the genitive, 131 n : syntax of, 135 m-r : heavy (or grave) and light, 59 e, 91 0, 93 & : masculine suffixes re- ferring to feminines, 135 : fem. sufiF. with collective force, 135 p : suffixes which have lost their meaning CyiN, nn^), 135 q, r : omitted sometimes with infinitive, 115 eN. Superlative, expression of, 132 c, Sureq, 8 c, 9 n. Suspended genitive, 1306,/. Syllables, theory of, 26. Syncope and elision, 19 fc, 35 d : of the article, 35 m : of n in Hiph'il and Hoph'al, 53 a, b, in infin. Niph., 51 I, in infin. Hiph., 53 q, in infin. Hoph., 67 y (end). Syriac language, i c. Syriasms in pronunciation, 24 e : cf. Aramaisms. Talmud, 3 a. ' Tam '-character, 5 a (end). Targums, 1 c, 3 a. Tell-el-Amarna tablets, 2 /. Temporal clauses, 106/, iii d, 112 00, 164: expressed by infin. constr. with a preposition, 164 g. Tenses, 40 : their use, 10(1-9, in, 112 : tempus historicum, 106 d. Text of the 0. T. probably derived from a single archetype, 3 c. Textual criticism, 3 g : intentdonal and unintentional changes in the text, 3 ST. Tiph'el, 55 h. Titles indicated by the feminine form, 122 r. Tone of Hebrew words, 29 : marks of, 15 b, c, k, I: thrown forward, 29 e : retrocession of, 29 d-g : incomplete retrocession, 29/: tone in pause, 29 i-r : concurrence of two tone- syllables avoided, 29 e,/, h. Tone in perfect thrown forward after waw consec, 49 h-l: in imperf. often thrown back in jussive and after waw consec, 48/, 49 d, 67 x, 68 d, e, 6g p, 71, 72 t, aa, 73 e. Transitions in poetry from one per- son to another, 144 p, cf. 135 r. Translations of the O. T., 3 a. Transposition (metathesis) of con- sonants, 19 n, 54 b, U-sound^, 8 c, 9 M, 0.
 * Surface '-plurals, 124 6, c.


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128 growing forest trees; and the chapel bell on the engine sounded most festally that sunny Sunday, as we drew up at one green town after another, with the townsfolk trooping in their Sunday's best to see the strangers, with the sun sparkling on the clean houses, and great domes of foliage humming overhead in the breeze.

This pleasant Napa Valley is, at its north end, blockaded by our mountain. There, at Calistoga, the railroad ceases, and the traveller who intends faring farther, to the Geysers or to the springs in Lake County, must cross the spurs of the mountain by stage. Thus, Mount Saint Helena is not only a summit, but a frontier; and up to the time of writing it has stayed the progress of the iron horse.


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T is difficult for a European to imagine Calistoga, the whole place is so new, and of such an occidental pattern; the very name, I hear, was invented at a supper-party by the man who found the springs. The railroad and the highway come up the valley about parallel to one another. The street of Calistoga joins them, perpendicular to both—a wide street, with bright, clean, low houses, here and there a veranda over the sidewalk, here and there a horse-post, here and there lounging townsfolk. Other streets are marked out, and most likely named; for these towns in the New World begin with a firm resolve to grow larger, Washington and Broadway, and then First and Second, and so forth, being boldly plotted out as soon as the community indulges in a plan. But, in the meanwhile, all the life and most of the houses of Calistoga are concentrated upon that street between the railway


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130 station and the road. I never heard it called by any name, but I will hazard a guess that it is either Washington or Broadway. Here are the blacksmith's, the chemist's, the general merchant's, and Kong Sam Kee, the Chinese laundryman's; here, probably, is the office of the local paper (for the place has a paper—they all have papers); and here certainly is one of the hotels, Cheeseborough's, whence the daring Foss, a man dear to legend, starts his horses for the Geysers. It must be remembered that we are here in a land of stage-drivers and highwaymen: a land, in that sense, like England a hundred years ago. The highway robber—road-agent, he is quaintly called—is still busy in these parts. The fame of Vasquez is still young. Only a few years ago, the Lakeport stage was robbed a mile or two from Calistoga. In 1879, the dentist of Mendocino City, fifty miles away upon the coast, suddenly threw off the garments of his trade, like Grindoff, in The Miller and his Men, and flamed forth in his second dress as a captain of banditti. A great robbery was followed by a long chase, a chase of days if not of weeks, among the intricate hill-country; and the chase was followed by much desultory fighting, in which several—and the dentist, I believe, amongst the number—bit the dust. The grass was springing for the first time, nourished


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 promulgation of these instruments, did the People of Virginia owe any allegiance?

He will not say, that their allegiance was then due to their former liege Lord the King of Great Britain, for in these acts, after first asserting "that all power is invested in, and consequently derived from the People—that government is, or ought to be, instituted for the common benefit, protection and security of the People—that when any government shall be found inadequate or contrary to these purposes, a majority of the community hath an indubitable, unalienable, and indefeasible right, to reform, alter, or abolish it"—the authors proceed to declare, "that the government of this Country, as formerly exercised under the Crown of Great Britain, was totally dissolved."

He will not say either, that this allegiance was due to any of the other Colonies, for none of them had any stronger claims to the allegiance of Virginia, than she had to theirs—nor that it was due to any government formed by all the revolted Colonies, for there was no such government at that time—nor to the People of the United Colonies, for no such People had ever existed, nor were these Colonies then united by any political tie whatever.

Were we then a gang of Banditti, a wretched horde of barbarians, a mere savage tribe, without law or any institution of civil polity to bind our society together by the strong bund of a common allegiance?

Assuredly, we were not such, for to prevent this "deplorable condition, to which this once happy country must be reduced, unless some regular adequate mode of civil polity was speedily adopted," the same convention in the very act which declared the total dissolution of the former government, ordained "the future form of Government of Virginia." In this form of Government was proclaimed the name of this new body politic or sovereign by which it was created. This Sovereign was called, "The Commonwealth of Virginia," and all our people pledged themselves through their Representatives "to be faithful and true to this Commonwealth," and called upon their God to attest the solemn pledge.


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Rh upon their blood, when I arrived in Calistoga. I am reminded of another highwayman of that same year. "He had been unwell," so ran his humourous defence, "and the doctor told him to take something, so he took the express box." The cultus of the stage-coachman always flourishes highest where there are thieves on the road, and where the guard travels armed, and the stage is not only a link between country and city, and the vehicle of news, but has a faint warfaring aroma, like a man who should be brother to a soldier. California boasts her famous stage-drivers, and among the famous Foss is not forgotten. Along the unfenced, abominable mountain roads, he launches his team with small regard to human life or the doctrine of probabilities. Flinching travellers, who behold themselves coasting eternity at every corner, look with natural admiration at their driver's huge, impassive, fleshy countenance. He has the very face for the driver in Sam Weller's anecdote, who upset the election party at the required point. Wonderful tales are current of his readiness and skill. One in particular, of how one of his horses fell at a ticklish passage of the road, and how Foss let slip the reins, and, driving over the fallen animal, arrived at the next stage with only three. This I relate as I heard it, without guarantee.


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132 I only saw Foss once, though, strange as it may sound, I have twice talked with him. He lives out of Calistoga, at a ranche called Fossville. One evening, after he was long gone home, I dropped into Cheeseborough's, and was asked if I should like to speak with Mr. Foss. Supposing that the interview was impossible, and that I was merely called upon to subscribe the general sentiment, I boldly answered "Yes." Next moment, I had one instrument at my ear, another at my mouth, and found myself, with nothing in the world to say, conversing with a man several miles off among desolate hills. Foss rapidly and somewhat plaintively brought the conversation to an end; and he returned to his night's grog at Fossville, while I strolled forth again on Calistoga high street. But it was an odd thing that here, on what we are accustomed to consider the very skirts of civilisation, I should have used the telephone for the first time in my civilised career. So it goes in these young countries; telephones, and telegraphs, and newspapers, and advertisements running far ahead among the Indians and the grizzly bears. Alone, on the other side of the railway, stands the Springs Hotel, with its attendant cottages. The floor of the valley is extremely level to the very roots of the hills; only here and there a hillock, crowned with pines, rises like the barrow of some


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Rh chieftain famed in war; and right against one of these hillocks is the Springs Hotel—is or was; for since I was there the place has been destroyed by fire, and has risen again from its ashes. A lawn runs about the house, and the lawn is in its turn surrounded by a system of little five-roomed cottages, each with a veranda and a weedy palm before the door. Some of the cottages are let to residents, and these are wreathed in flowers. The rest are occupied by ordinary visitors to the hotel; and a very pleasant way this is, by which you have a little country cottage of your own, without domestic burthens, and by the day or week.

The whole neighbourhood of Mount Saint Helena is full of sulphur and of boiling springs. The Geysers are famous; they were the great health resort of the Indians before the coming of the whites. Lake County is dotted with spas; Hot Springs and White Sulphur Springs are the names of two stations on the Napa Valley Railroad; and Calistoga itself seems to repose on a mere film above a boiling, subterranean lake. At one end of the hotel enclosure are the springs from which it takes its name, hot enough to scald a child seriously while I was there. At the other end, the tenant of a cottage sank a well, and there also the water came up boiling. It keeps this end of the valley as warm as a toast. I have gone across to the hotel a little


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134 after five in the morning, when a sea-fog from the Pacific was hanging thick and grey, and dark and dirty overhead, and found the thermometer had been up before me, and had already climbed among the nineties; and in the stress of the day it was sometimes too hot to move about. But in spite of this heat from above and below, doing one on both sides, Calistoga was a pleasant place to dwell in; beautifully green, for it was then that favoured moment in the Californian year, when the rains are over and the dusty summer has not yet set in; often visited by fresh airs, now from the mountain, now across Sonoma from the sea; very quiet, very idle, very silent but for the breezes and the cattle bells afield. And there was something satisfactory in the sight of that great mountain that enclosed us to the north: whether it stood, robed in sunshine, quaking to its topmost pinnacle with the heat and brightness of the day; or whether it set itself to weaving vapours, wisp after wisp growing, trembling, fleeting, and fading in the blue. The tangled, woody, and almost trackless foothills that enclose the valley, shutting if off from Sonoma on the west, and from Yolo on the east—rough as they were in outline, dug out by winter streams, crowned by cliffy bluffs and nodding pine-trees—were dwarfed into satellites by


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 Was this pledge violated by any overt act of force? The act was declared to be Treason, and the proper punishment of this crime was announced. If it be true then, as the President in his Proclamation says, that "Treason is an offence against sovereignty, and sovereignty must reside with the power to punish it," the Commonwealth of Virginia which defined this crime against itself, provided for its punishment, and once at least inflicted, it must have been a sovereign. The law of Virginia defining and punishing Treason, is the sanction of the oath of fidelity, and is not less curious and important than the form of that assurance. It is in these words: "If a man do levy war against the Commonwealth in the same, or be adherent to the enemies of the Commonwealth, within the same, giving to them aid and comfort in the Commonwealth, or elsewhere, and thereof be legally convicted of open deed, by the evidence of two sufficient and lawful witnesses, or his own voluntary confession, the cases above rehearsed shall be judged Treason which extendeth to the Commonwealth, and the persons so convicted, and, his or her aiders, abettors and counsellors, being thereof convicted, shall suffer death, by hanging by the neck without benefit of clergy. Also, every person or persons, who shall erect or establish, or cause or procure to be erected or established, any government separate from, or independent of the government of Virginia, within the limits thereof, unless by act of the Legislature of this Commonwealth for that purpose first obtained; or who shall, in any such usurped government, hold or execute any office, legislative, executive, judiciary, or ministerial, by whatever name such office may be distinguished or called; or who shall swear, or otherwise solemnly profess allegiance or fidelity to the same; or who shall, under pretext of authority derived from, or protection afforded by, such usurped government resist or oppose the due execution of the laws of this Commonwealth, shall be adjudged guilty of high Treason, and shall be proceeded against, and punished in the same manner as other Traitors may be proceeded against and punished."—[See Revised Code of 1819, Vol. I., p. 591.]

The scholar may read the rough English of some parts of this statute, as he does the bald and confessedly bad Latin of Magna Cliarta, with a contemptuous But if ever a sovereign, she


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Rh the bulk and bearing of Mount Saint Helena. She over-towered them by two-thirds of her own stature. She excelled them by the boldness of her profile. Her great bald summit, clear of trees and pasture, a cairn of quartz and cinnabar, rejected kinship with the dark and shaggy wilderness of lesser hilltops.


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 such at the moment when she "totally dissolved" the former government, and in establishing a new form of government for herself, thereby announcing her absolute independence. All these acts were done before the fourth day of July, 1776. By these acts she then became free, sovereign, and independent; and from the bottom of my heart do I unite with the President in the fervent prayer, "May the great Ruler of Nations grant that the signal blessings with which he has favoured us, may not, by the madness of party or personal ambition, be disregarded and lost." But what is this ideal being of which every Virginian then acknowledged, and every Virginian still acknowledges, himself to be a liege, and which we have called "The Commonwealth of Virginia." It is the People of Virginia. The members of that established society within this "Ancient Dominion," who renouncing all allegiance to a former Sovereign, incorporated themselves into a body politic, chose to bestow upon themselves this new Corporate name, in order to preserve and perpetuate the succession of the sovereign rights which they had then assumed.—Most of these patriots have sunk into the tomb, and the few who remain must follow them ere long; but long after the last of them shall be no more, that body politic and corporate styled "the Commonwealth of Virginia," will, by the blessing of God, still live; and while it does live, this name will denote the People of Virginia of any other day, as expressively and as justly as it did those by whom the name was first assumed.—That Commonwealth yet lives, and remains as sovereign now as then, unless it has done or suffered some act in the interim, to abrogate its powers or annul its rights.

The people of Virginia, in shaking off their former allegiance, establishing a new form of government for themselves, and so assuming sovereignty and independence, did no more than was


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 done, sooner or later, by each and every one of the thirteen revolted Colonies of Great Britain.

Each of these, like Virginia, became, in virtue of such acts, that free, sovereign, and independent body politic called a State; and becoming such, it took upon itself any corporate name it chose to adopt. But as all the governments then established were Representative Democracies, this corporate name, whether it was the Commonwealth or any other, was designed to denote the free people of that pre-existing and established society before known by the name of some of the revolted British Colonies.

If, then, we ask, who constituted at that time that great Corporation and Sovereign body politic which I have called The People, which is the Lord of all in these now United States, the answer is, not the People of all the revolted Colonies collectively, but the People of each of them respectively. All individuals, being members of any one of these separate, distinct, and independent masses, owed faith, and truth, and allegiance to that particular mass, which, under some selected corporate name, designed to distinguish it from all others, was then proclaimed as their only earthly sovereign.

Such were the People of these Colonies then. As individuals they were subjects, as a body politic and corporate they were the sovereign of these subjects.

Such sovereigns and such subjects these People have been ever since, and still are, unless (as I have said before) they have done or suffered some act, during the interval of time which has elapsed since they took upon themselves these characters, to change this, their moral and political condition. Have they done so? This is the question which I propose to examine in my next Number.


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E drove off from the Springs Hotel about three in the afternoon. The sun warmed me to the heart. A broad, cool wind streamed pauselessly down the valley, laden with perfume. Up at the top stood Mount Saint Helena, a bulk of mountain, bare atop, with tree-fringed spurs, and radiating warmth. Once we saw it framed in a grove of tall and exquisitely graceful white oaks, in line and colour a finished composition. We passed a cow stretched by the roadside, her bell slowly beating time to the movement of her ruminating jaws, her big red face crawled over by half-a-dozen flies, a monument of content. A little farther, and we struck to the left up a mountain road, and for two hours threaded one valley after another, green, tangled, full of noble timber, giving us every now and again a sight of Mount Saint Helena and the blue hilly distance, and crossed by many streams, through which we splashed to the carriage-step. To the right or the left, there was scarce any trace of man but the road


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Rh we followed; I think we passed but one ranchero's house in the whole distance, and that was closed and smokeless. But we had the society of these bright streams—dazzlingly clear, as is their wont, splashing from the wheels in diamonds, and striking a lively coolness through the sunshine. And what with the innumerable variety of greens, the masses of foliage tossing in the breeze, the glimpses of distance, the descents into seemingly impenetrable thickets, the continual dodging of the road, which made haste to plunge again into the covert, we had a fine sense of woods, and spring-time, and the open air.

Our driver gave me a lecture by the way on Californian trees—a thing I was much in need of, having fallen among painters who know the name of nothing, and Mexicans who know the name of nothing in English. He taught me the madrona, the manzanita, the buckeye, the maple; he showed me the crested mountain quail; he showed me where some young redwoods were already spiring heavenwards from the ruins of the old; for in this district all had already perished: redwoods and redskins, the two noblest indigenous living things, alike condemned. At length, in a lonely dell, we came on a huge wooden gate with a sign upon it like an inn. "The Petrified Forest. Proprietor: C. Evans," ran the


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138 legend. Within, on a knoll of sward, was the house of the proprietor, and another smaller house hard by to serve as a museum, where photographs and petrifactions were retailed. It was a pure little isle of touristry among these solitary hills. The proprietor was a brave old white-faced Swede. He had wandered this way, Heaven knows how, and taken up his acres—I forget how many years ago—all alone, bent double with sciatica, and with six bits in his pocket and an axe upon his shoulder. Long, useless years of seafaring had thus discharged him at the end, penniless and sick. Without doubt he had tried his luck at the diggings, and got no good from that; without doubt he had loved the bottle, and lived the life of Jack ashore. But at the end of these adventures, here he came; and, the place hitting his fancy, down he sat to make a new life of it, far from crimps and the salt sea. And the very sight of his ranche had done him good. It was "the handsomest spot in the Californy mountains. " Isn't it handsome, now?" he said. Every penny he makes goes into that ranche to make it handsomer. Then the climate, with the sea-breeze every afternoon in the hottest summer weather, had gradually cured the sciatica; and his sister and niece were now domesticated with him for company—or, rather, the niece came only once in the two days, teaching music the


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Rh meanwhile in the valley. And then, for a last piece of luck, "the handsomest spot in the Californy mountains" had produced a petrified forest, which Mr. Evans now shows at the modest figure of half a dollar a head, or two-thirds of his capital when he first came there with an axe and a sciatica. This tardy favourite of fortune—hobbling a little, I think, as if in memory of the sciatica, but with not a trace that I can remember of the sea—thoroughly ruralised from head to foot, proceeded to escort us up the hill behind his house. "Who first found the forest?" asked my wife. "The first? I was that man," said he. "I was cleaning up the pasture for my beasts, when I found this"—kicking a great redwood, seven feet in diameter, that lay there on its side, hollow heart, clinging lumps of bark, all changed into grey stone, with veins of quartz between what had been the layers of the wood. "Were you surprised?"

"Surprised? No! What would I be surprised about? What did I know about petrifactions—following the sea? Petrifaction! There was no such word in my language! I knew about putrefaction, though! I thought it was a stone; so would you, if you was cleaning up pasture."

And now he had a theory of his own, which I did not quite grasp, except that the trees had not


text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Cards, Playing


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text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Cardoon

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140 "grewed" there. But he mentioned, with evident pride, that he differed from all the scientific people who had visited the spot; and he flung about such words as "tufa" and "silica" with careless freedom. When I mentioned I was from Scotland, "My old country," he said; "my old country"—with a smiling look and a tone of real affection in his voice. I was mightily surprised, for he was obviously Scandinavian, and begged him to explain. It seemed he had learned his English and done nearly all his sailing in Scotch ships. "Out of Glasgow," said he, "or Greenock; but that's all the same—they all hail from Glasgow." And he was so pleased with me for being a Scotsman, and his adopted compatriot, that he made me a present of a very beautiful piece of petrifaction—I believe the most beautiful and portable he had.

Here was a man, at least, who was a Swede, a Scot, and an American, acknowledging some kind allegiance to three lands. Mr. Wallace's Scoto-Circassian will not fail to come before the reader. I have myself met and spoken with a Fifeshire German, whose combination of abominable accents struck me dumb. But, indeed, I think we all belong to many countries. And perhaps this habit of much travel, and the engendering of scattered friendships, may prepare the euthanasia of ancient nations.


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Rh And the forest itself? Well, on a tangled, briery hillside—for the pasture would bear a little further cleaning up, to my eyes—there lie scattered thickly various lengths of petrified trunk, such as the one already mentioned. It is very curious, of course, and ancient enough, if that were all. Doubtless, the heart of the geologist beats quicker at the sight; but, for my part, I was mightily unmoved. Sight-seeing is the art of disappointment.

But, fortunately, Heaven rewards us with many agreeable prospects and adventures by the way; and sometimes, when we go out to see a petrified forest, prepares a far more delightful curiosity in the form of Mr. Evans, whom may all prosperity attend throughout a long and green old age.


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WAS interested in Californian wine. Indeed, I am interested in all wines, and have been all my life, from the raisin wine that a school-fellow kept secreted in his play-box up to my last discovery, those notable Valtellines that once shone upon the board of Cæsar. Some of us, kind old Pagans, watch with dread the shadows falling on the age: how the unconquerable worm invades the sunny terraces of France, and Bordeaux is no more, and the Rhone a mere Arabia Petræa. Château Neuf is dead, and I have never tasted it; Hermitage—a hermitage indeed from all life's sorrows—lies expiring by the river. And in the place of these imperial elixirs, beautiful to every sense, gem-hued, flower-scented, dream-compellers:—behold upon the quays at Cette the chemicals arrayed; behold the analyst at Marseilles, raising hands in obsecration, attesting god Lyœus, and the vats staved in, and the dishonest wines poured forth among the sea. It is not Pan only; Bacchus, too, is dead.


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Rh If wine is to withdraw its most poetic countenance, the sun of the white dinner-cloth, a deity to be invoked by two or three, all fervent, hushing their talk, degusting tenderly, and storing reminiscences—for a bottle of good wine, like a good act, shines ever in the retrospect—if wine is to desert us, go thy ways, old Jack! Now we begin to have compunctions, and look back at the brave bottles squandered upon dinner-parties, where the guests drank grossly, discussing politics the while, and even the schoolboy "took his whack," like liquorice water. And at the same time, we look timidly forward, with a spark of hope, to where the new lands, already weary of producing gold, begin to green with vineyards. A nice point in human history falls to be decided by Californian and Australian wines. Wine in California is still in the experimental stage; and when you taste a vintage, grave economical questions are involved. The beginning of vine-planting is like the beginning of mining for the precious metals: the wine-grower also "prospects." One corner of land after another is tried with one kind of grape after another. This is a failure; that is better; a third best. So, bit by bit, they grope about for their Clos Vougeot and Lafite. Those lodes and pockets of earth, more precious than the precious ores, that yield inimitable


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144 and soft fire; those virtuous Bonanzas, where the soil has sublimated under sun and stars to something finer, and the wine is bottled poetry: these still lie undiscovered; chaparral conceals, thicket embowers them; the miner chips the rock and wanders farther, and the grizzly muses undisturbed. But there they bide their hour, awaiting their Columbus; and nature nurses and prepares them. The smack of Californian earth shall linger on the palate of your grandson. Meanwhile the wine is merely a good wine; the best that I have tasted better than a Beaujolais, and not unlike. But the trade is poor; it lives from hand to mouth, putting its all into experiments, and forced to sell its vintages. To find one properly matured, and bearing its own name, is to be fortune's favourite. Bearing its own name, I say, and dwell upon the innuendo.

"You want to know why California wine is not drunk in the States?" a San Francisco wine merchant said to me, after he had shown me through his premises. "Well, here's the reason." And opening a large cupboard, fitted with many little drawers, he proceeded to shower me all over with a great variety of gorgeously tinted labels, blue, red, or yellow, stamped with crown or coronet, and hailing from such a profusion of clos and


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Rh, that a single department could scarce have furnished forth the names. But it was strange that all looked unfamiliar. "Château X?" said I. "I never heard of that."

"I dare say not," said he. "I had been reading one of X's novels." They were all castles in Spain! But that sure enough is the reason why California wine is not drunk in the States.

Napa Valley has been long a seat of the wine-growing industry. It did not here begin, as it does too often, in the low valley lands along the river, but took at once to the rough foot-hills, where alone it can expect to prosper. A basking inclination, and stones, to be a reservoir of the day's heat, seem necessary to the soil for wine; the grossness of the earth must be evaporated, its marrow daily melted and refined for ages; until at length these clods that break below our footing, and to the eye appear but common earth, are truly and to the perceiving mind, a masterpiece of nature. The dust of Richebourg, which the wind carries away, what an apotheosis of the dust! Not man himself can seem a stranger child of that brown, friable powder, than the blood and sun in that old flask behind the faggots. A Californian vineyard, one of man's outposts in


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146 the wilderness, has features of its own. There is nothing here to remind you of the Rhine or Rhone, of the low côte d'or, or the infamous and scabby deserts of Champagne; but all is green, solitary, covert. We visited two of them, Mr. Schram's and Mr. M'Eckron's, sharing the same glen. Some way down the valley below Calistoga, we turned sharply to the south and plunged into the thick of the wood. A rude trail rapidly mounting; a little stream tinkling by on the one hand, big enough perhaps after the rains, but already yielding up its life; overhead and on all sides a bower of green and tangled thicket, still fragrant and still flower-bespangled by the early season, where thimble-berry played the part of our English hawthorn, and the buckeyes were putting forth their twisted horns of blossom: through all this, we struggled toughly upwards, canted to and fro by the roughness of the trail, and continually switched across the face by sprays of leaf or blossom. The last is no great inconvenience at home; but here in California it is a matter of some moment. For in all woods and by every wayside there prospers an abominable shrub or weed, called poison oak, whose very neighbourhood is venomous to some, and whose actual touch is avoided by the most impervious. The two houses, with their vineyards, stood each


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Rh in a green niche of its own in this steep and narrow forest dell. Though they were so near, there was already a good difference in level; and Mr. M'Eckron's head must be a long way under the feet of Mr. Schram. No more had been cleared than was necessary for cultivation; close around each oasis ran the tangled wood; the glen enfolds them; there they lie basking in sun and silence, concealed from all but the clouds and the mountain birds. Mr. M'Eckron's is a bachelor establishment; a little bit of a wooden house, a small cellar hard by in the hillside, and a patch of vines planted and tended single-handed by himself. He had but recently begun; his vines were young, his business young also; but I thought he had the look of the man who succeeds. He hailed from Greenock: he remembered his father putting him inside Mons Meg, and that touched me home; and we exchanged a word or two of Scotch, which pleased me more than you would fancy.

Mr. Schram’s, on the other hand, is the oldest vineyard in the valley, eighteen years old, I think; yet he began a penniless barber, and even after he had broken ground up here with his black malvoisies, continued for long to tramp the valley with his razor. Now, his place is the picture of prosperity: stuffed birds in the veranda, cellars far dug into the hillside, and resting on pillars


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Bells and Pomegranates, First Series/King Victor and King Charles/1731/II

SECOND YEAR 1731.—KING CHARLES.

Part II.

Night.— seated, folding papers he has been examining.

D'Ormea. This at the last effects it: now, King Charles Or else King Victor—that's a balance: now For D'Ormea the arch-culprit, either turn O' the scale,—that's sure enough. A point to solve, My masters—moralists—whate'er's your style! When you discover why I push myself Into a pitfall you'd pass safely by, Impart to me among the rest! No matter. Prompt are the righteous ever with their rede To us the wicked—lesson them this once! For safe among the wicked are you set, Old D'Ormea. We lament life's brevity, Yet quarter e'en the threescore years and ten, Nor stick to call the quarter roundly "life." D'Ormea was wicked, say, some twenty years; A tree so long was stunted; afterward, What if it grew, continued growing, till No fellow of the forest equalled it? 'Twas a shrub then—a shrub it still must be: While forward saplings, at the outset checked, In virtue of that first sprout keep their style Amid the forest's green fraternity. Thus I shoot up—to surely get lopped down, And bound up for the burning. Now for it!

[Enter Charles and Polyxena with Attendants.]

D'Ormea. [rises] Sire, in the due discharge of this my office— This enforced summons of yourself from Turin, And the disclosure I am bound to make To night,—there must already be, I feel, So much that wounds. ..

Charles. Well, sir?

D'Ormea. —That I, perchance, May utter, also, what, another time, Would irk much,—it may prove less irksome now.

Charles. What would you utter?

D'Ormea. That I from my soul Grieve at to-night's event: for you I grieve— E'en grieve for. ..

Charles. Tush, another time for talk! My kingdom is in imminent danger?

D'Ormea. Let The Count communicate with France—its King, His grandson, will have Fleury's aid for this, Though for no other war.

Charles. First for the levies: What forces can I muster presently?

[D'Ormea delivers papers which Charles inspects.]

Charles. Good—very good. Montorio. . how is this? —Equips me double the old complement Of soldiers?

D'Ormea. Since his land has been relieved From double impost, this he manages: But under the late monarch. ..

Charles. Peace. I know. Count Spava has omitted mentioning What proxy is to head these troops of his.

D'Ormea. Count Spava means to head his troops himself. Something's to fight for now; "whereas," says he, "Under the Sovereign's father"...

Charles. It would seem That all my people love me.

D'Ormea. Yes. [To Polyxena while Charles continues to inspect the papers.] A temper Like Victor's may avail to keep a state; He terrifies men and they fall, not off; Good to restrain; best, if restraint were all: But, with the silent circle round him, ends Such sway. Our King's begins precisely there. For to suggest, impel, and set at work, Is quite another function. Men may slight, In time of peace, the King who brought them peace: In war,—his voice, his eyes, help more than fear. They love you, Sire!

Charles. [to Attendants.] Bring the Regalia forth. Quit the room. And now, Marquis, answer me— Why should the King of France invade my realm?

D'Ormea. Why? Did I not acquaint your Majesty An hour ago?

Charles. I choose to hear again What then I heard.

D'Ormea. Because, Sire, as I said, Your father is resolved to have the crown At any risk; and, as I judge, calls in These foreigners to aid him.

Charles. And your reason For saying this?

D'Ormea. [Aside.]    Ay, just his father's way! [To Charles.] The Count wrote yesterday to your Forces' Chief, Rhebinder,—made demand of help—

Charles. To try Rhebinder—he's of alien blood: aught else?

D'Ormea. Receiving a refusal,—some hours after, The Count called on Del Borgo to deliver The Act of Abdication: he refusing, Or hesitating, rather—

Charles. What ensued?

D'Ormea. At midnight, only two hours since, at Turin, He rode in person to the citadel With one attendant, to the Soccorso gate, And bade the governor, San Remi, open— Admit him.

Charles. For a purpose I divine, These three were faithful, then?

D'Ormea. They told it me: And I—

Charles. Most faithfully—

D'Ormea. Tell it you—with this, Moreover, of my own: if, an hour hence, You have not interposed, the Count will be Upon his road to France for succour.

Charles. Good! You do your duty, now, to me your monarch Fully, I warrant?—have, that is your project For saving both of us disgrace, past doubt?

D'Ormea. I have my counsel,—and the only one. A month since, I besought you to employ Restraints which had prevented many a pang: But now the harsher course must be pursued. These papers, made for the emergency, Will pain you to subscribe: this is a list Of those suspected merely—men to watch; This—of the few of the Count's very household, You must, however reluctantly, arrest; While here's a method of remonstrance (sure Not stronger than the case demands) to take With the Count's self.

Charles. Deliver those three papers.

Polyxena. [while Charles inspects them—to D'ormea.] Your measures are not over-harsh, sir: France Will hardly be deterred from coming hither By these.

D'Ormea. What good of my proposing measures Without a chance of their success? E'en these, Hear what he'll say at my presenting.

Charles. [who has signed them.]           There! About the warrants! You've my signature. What turns you pale? I do my duty by you In acting boldly thus on your advice.

D'Ormea. [reading them separately.] Arrest the people I suspected merely?

Charles. Did you suspect them?

D'Ormea. Doubtless: but—but—Sire, This Forquieri's governor of Turin; And Rivarol and he have influence over Half of the capital.—Rabella, too? Why, Sire—

Charles. Oh, leave the fear to me.

D'Ormea. [still reading.]     You bid me Incarcerate the people on this list? Sire—

Charles. Why, you never bade arrest those men, So close related to my father too, On trifling grounds?

D'Ormea. Oh, as for that, St. George, President of Chambery's senators, Is hatching treason—but— [Still more troubled.] Sire, Count Cumiane Is brother to your father's wife! What's here? Arrest the wife herself?

Charles. You seem to think it A venial crime to plot against me. Well?

D'Ormea. [who has read the last paper.] Wherefore am I thus ruined? Why not take My life at once? This poor formality Is, let me say, unworthy you! Prevent it, You, madam! I have served you, am prepared For all disgraces—only, let disgrace Be plain, be proper—proper for the world To pass its judgment on 'twixt you and me! Take back your warrant—I will none of it.

Charles. Here is a man to talk of fickleness! He stakes his life upon my father's falsehood; I bid him—

D'Ormea. Not you! Were he trebly false, You do not bid me—

Charles. Is't not written there? I thought so; give—I'll set it right.

D'Ormea. Is it there? Oh, yes—and plain—arrest him—now—drag here Your father! And were all six times as plain, Do you suppose I'd trust it?

Charles. Just one word! You bring him, taken in the act of flight, Or else your life is forfeit.

D'Ormea. Ay, to Turin I bring him? And to-morrow?

Charles. Here and now? The whole thing is a lie—a hateful lie— As I believed and as my father said. I knew it from the first, but was compelled To circumvent you; and the crafty D'Ormea, That baffled Alberoni and tricked Coscia, The miserable sower of such discord 'Twixt sire and son, is in the toils at last! Oh, I see! you arrive—this plan of yours, Weak as it is, torments sufficiently A sick, old, peevish man—wrings hasty speech And ill-considered threats from him; that's noted; Then out you ferret papers, his amusement In lonely hours of lassitude—examine The day-by-day report of your paid creatures— And back you come—all was not ripe, you find, And, as you hope, may keep from ripening yet, But you were in bare time! Only, 'twere best I never saw my father—these old men Are potent in excuses—and, meantime, D'Ormea's the man I cannot do without.

Polyxena. Charles—

Charles. Ah, no question! You're for D'Ormea too! You'd have me eat and drink, and sleep, live, die With this lie coil'd about me, choking me! No, no—he's caught! [to D'Ormea.] You venture life, you say, Upon my father's perfidy; and I Have, on the whole, no right to disregard The chains of testimony you thus wind About me; though I do—do from my soul Discredit them: still, I must authorize These measures—and I will. Perugia!

[''Many Officers enter. '']

Count— You and Solar, with all the force you have, Are at the Marquis' orders: what he bids, Implicitly perform! You are to bring A traitor here; the man that's likest one At present, fronts me; you are at his beck For a full hour; he undertakes to show you A fouler than himself,—but, failing that, Return with him, and, as my father lives, He dies this night! The clemency you've blamed So oft, shall be revoked—rights exercised That I've abjured. [ To D'Ormea.] Now, Sir, about the work! To save your king and country! Take the warrant!

D'Ormea. [boldly to Perugia.] You hear the Sovereign's mandate, Count Perugia? Obey me! As your diligence, expect Reward! All follow to Montcaglier!

Charles. [in great anguish.] D'Ormea! [D'Ormea goes.] He goes, lit up with that appalling smile! [To Polyxena after a pause.] At least you understand all this?

Polyxena. These means Of our defence—these measures of precaution?

Charles. It must be the best way. I should have else Withered beneath his scorn.

Polyxena. What would you say?

Charles. Why, you don't think I mean to keep the crown, Polyxena?

Polyxena. You then believe the story In spite of all—that Victor's coming?

Charles. Believe it? I know that he is coming—feel the strength That has upheld me leave me at his coming! 'Twas mine, and now he takes his own again. Some kinds of strength are well enough to have; But who's to have that strength? Let my crown go! I meant to keep it—but I cannot—cannot! Only, he shall not taunt me—he, the first— See if he would not be the first to taunt me With having left his kingdom at a word— With letting it be conquered without stroke— With. . no—no—'tis no worse than when he left it, I've just to bid him take it, and, that over, We'll fly away—fly—for I loathe this Turin, This Rivoli, all titles loathe, and state. We'd best go to your country—unless God Send I die now!

Polyxena. Charles, hear me!

Charles. —And again Shall you be my Polyxena—you'll take me Out of this woe! Yes, do speak—and keep speaking! I would not let you speak just now, for fear You'd counsel me against him: but talk, now, As we two used to talk in blessed times: Bid me endure all his caprices; take me From this mad post above him!

Polyxena. I believe We are undone, but from a different cause. All your resources, down to the least guard, Are now at D'Ormea's beck. What if, this while, He acts in concert with your father? We Indeed were lost. This lonely Rivoli— Where find a better place for them?

Charles. [pacing the room.]             And why Does Victor come? To undo all that's done! Restore the past—prevent the future! Seat His mistress in your seat, and place in mine . . . Oh, my own people, whom will you find there, To ask of, to consult with, to care for, To hold up with your hands? Whom? One that's false— False—from the head's crown to the foot's sole, false! The best is, that I knew it in my heart From the beginning, and expected this, And hated you, Polyxena, because You saw thro' him, though I too saw thro' him, Saw that he meant this while he crowned me, while He prayed for me,—nay, while he kissed my brow, I saw—

Polyxena. But if your measures take effect, And D'Ormea's true to you?

Charles. Then worst of all! I shall have loosed that callous wretch on him! Well may the woman taunt him with his child— I, eating here his bread, clothed in his clothes, Seated upon his seat, give D'Ormea leave To outrage him! We talk—perchance they tear My father from his bed—the old hands feel For one who is not, but who should be there— And he finds D'Ormea! D'Ormea, too, finds him —The crowded chamber when the lights go out— Closed doors—the horrid scuffle in the dark— The accursed promptings of the minute! My guards! To horse—and after, with me—and prevent!

Polyxena. [seizing his hand.]                 King Charles! Pause here upon this strip of time Allotted you out of eternity! Crowns are from God—in his name you hold yours. Your life's no least thing, were it fit your life Should be abjured along with rule; but now, Keep both! Your duty is to live and rule— You, who would vulgarly look fine enough In the world's eye, deserting your soul's charge,— Ay, you would have men's praise—this Rivoli Would be illumined: while, as 'tis, no doubt, Something of stain will ever rest on you; No one will rightly know why you refused To abdicate; they'll talk of deeds you could Have done, no doubt,—nor do I much expect Future achievements will blot out the past, Envelop it in haze—nor shall we two Be happy any more; 'twill be, I feel, Only in moments that the duty's seen As palpably as now—the months, the years Of painful indistinctness are to come, While daily must we tread these palace rooms Pregnant with memories of the past: your eye May turn to mine and find no comfort there, Through fancies that beset me, as yourself, Of other courses, with far other issues, We might have taken this great night—such bear, As I will bear! What matters happiness? Duty! There's man's one moment—this is yours!

[Putting the crown on his head, and the sceptre in his hand, she places him on his seat: a long pause and silence.]

[Enter D'Ormea and Victor.]

Victor. At last I speak; but once—that once, to you! 'Tis you I ask, not these your varletry, Who's King of us?

Charles. [from his seat.] Count Tende. ,.

Victor. What your spies Assert I ponder in my soul, I say— Here to your face, amid your guards! I choose To take again the crown whose shadow I gave— For still its potency surrounds the weak White locks their felon hands have discomposed. Or, I'll not ask who's King, but simply, who Withholds the crown I claim? Deliver it! I have no friend in the wide world: nor France Nor England cares for me: you see the sum Of what I can avail. Deliver it!

Charles. Take it, my father! And now say in turn, Was it done well, my father—sure not well, To try me thus! I might have seen much cause For keeping it—too easily seen cause! But, from that moment, e'en more woefully My life had pined away, than pine it will. Already you have much to answer for. My life to pine is nothing,—her sunk eyes Were happy once! No doubt my people think That I'm their King still. . . but I cannot strive! Take it!

Victor. [one hand on the crown Charles offers, the other on his neck.] So few years give it quietly, My son: It will drop from me. See you not? A crown's unlike a sword to give away— That, let a strong hand to a weak hand give! But crowns should slip from palsied brows to heads Young as this head—yet mine is weak enough, E'en weaker than I knew. I seek for phrases To vindicate my right. 'Tis of a piece! All is alike gone by with me—who beat Once D'Orleans in his lines—his very lines! To have been Eugene's comrade, Louis's rival, And now. ..

Charles. [putting the crown on him, to the rest.] The King speaks, yet none kneels, I think!

Victor. I am then King! As I became a King Despite the nations—kept myself a King— So I die King, with Kingship dying too Around me! I have lasted Europe's time! What wants my story of completion? Where Must needs the damning break show! Who mistrusts My children here—tell they of any break 'Twixt my day's sunrise and its fiery fall? And who were by me when I died but they? Who? —D'Ormea there!

Charles. What means he?

Victor. Ever there! Charles—how to save your story? Mine must go! Say—say that you refused the crown to me— Charles, yours shall be my story! You immured Me, say, at Rivoli. A single year I spend without a sight of you, then die— That will serve every purpose—tell that tale The world!

Charles. Mistrust me? Help!

Victor. Past help, past reach! 'Tis in the heart—you cannot reach the heart: This broke mine, that I did believe, you, Charles, Would have denied and so disgraced me.

Polyxena. Charles Has never ceased to be your subject, Sire! He reigned at first through setting up yourself As pattern: if he e'er seemed harsh to you, 'Twas from a too intense appreciation Of your own character: he acted you— Ne'er for an instant did I think it real, Or look for any other, than this end. I hold him worlds the worse on that account; But so it was.

Charles. [to Polyxena.] I love you, now, indeed! [To Victor.] You never knew me!

Victor. Hardly till this moment, When I seem learning many other things, Because the time for using them is past. If 'twere to do again! That's idly wished. Truthfulness might prove policy as good As guile. Is this my daughter's forehead?—Yes— I've made it fitter now to be a Queen's Than formerly—I've ploughed the deep lines there Which keep too well a crown from slipping off! No matter. Guile has made me King again, Louis—'twas in King Victor's time—long since, When Louis reign'd—and, also, Victor reign'd— How the world talks already of us two! God of eclipse and each discolour'd star, Why do I linger then? Ha! Where lurks he? D'Ormea! Come nearer to your King! Now stand! [Collecting his strength as D'Ormea approaches.] But you lied, D'Ormea! I do not repent.


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148 like a bandit's cave:—all trimness, varnish, flowers, and sunshine, among the tangled wildwood. Stout,smiling Mrs. Schram, who has been to Europe and apparently all about the States for pleasure, entertained Fanny in the veranda, while I was tasting wines in the cellar. To Mr. Schram this was a solemn office; his serious gusto warmed my heart; prosperity had not yet wholly banished a certain neophite and girlish trepidation, and he followed every sip and read my face with proud anxiety. I tasted all. I tasted every variety and shade of Schramberger, red and white Schramberger, Burgundy Schramberger, Schramberger Hock, Schramberger Golden Chasselas, the latter with a notable bouquet, and I fear to think how many more. Much of it goes to London—most, I think; and Mr. Schram has a great notion of the English taste. In this wild spot, I did not feel the sacredness of ancient cultivation. It was still raw, it was no Marathon, and no Johannisberg; yet the stirring sunlight, and the growing vines, and the vats and bottles in the cavern, made a pleasant music for the mind. Here, also, earth's cream was being skimmed and garnered; and the London customers can taste, such as it is, the tang of the earth in this green valley. So local, so quintessential is a wine, that it seems the very birds in the veranda might


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Rh communicate a flavour, and that romantic cellar influence the bottle next to be uncorked in Pimlico, and the smile of jolly Mr. Schram might mantle in the glass. But these are but experiments. All things in this new land are moving farther on: the wine-vats and the miner's blasting tools but picket for a night, like Bedouin pavilions; and to-morrow, to fresh woods! This stir of change and these perpetual echoes of the moving footfall, haunt the land. Men move eternally, still chasing Fortune; and, fortune found, still wander. As we drove back to Calistoga, the road lay empty of mere passengers, but its green side was dotted with the camps of travelling families: one cumbered with a great waggonful of household stuff, settlers going to occupy a ranche they had taken up in Mendocino, or perhaps Tehama County; another, a party in dust-coats, men and women, whom we found camped in a grove on the roadside, all on pleasure bent, with a Chinaman to cook for them, and who waved their hands to us as we drove by.


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FEW pages back, I wrote that a man belonged in these days, to a variety of countries; but the old land is still the true love, the others are but pleasant infidelities. Scotland is indefinable; it has no unity except upon the map. Two languages, many dialects, innumerable forms of piety, and countless local patriotisms and prejudices, part us among ourselves more widely than the extreme east and west of that great continent of America. When I am at home, I feel a man from Glasgow to be something like a rival, a man from Barra to be more than half a foreigner. Yet let us meet in some far country, and, whether we hail from the braes of Manor or the braes of Mar, some ready-made affection joins us on the instant. It is not race. Look at us. One is Norse, one Celtic, and another Saxon. It is not community of tongue. We have it not among ourselves; and we have it almost to perfection, with English, or Irish, or American. It is no tie of faith, for we


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Bragg, Sir William Henry

BRAGG, SIR WILLIAM HENRY (1862-      ), British physicist, was born at Wigton, Cumb., on July 2 1862 and was educated at King William's College, Isle of Man. He subsequently entered Trinity College, Cambridge, being elected to a major scholarship in 1882. He was third wrangler in 1884 and in the following year obtained a first class in part III. of the mathematical tripos. In 1886 he was appointed professor of mathematics and physics in the university of Adelaide, S. Australia, where he carried out his earlier researches upon radioactivity. He took an active interest in the development of scientific enterprise in Australia, was a member of the council of the Adelaide University from 1893 to 1908, of the council of the South Australian School of Mines and Industries from 1895 to 1908 and president of the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science, Brisbane, 1909. In 1909 he was appointed Cavendish professor at Leeds University, where he remained until his election in 1915 to the Quain professorship of physics in the university of London. His researches upon various radioactive phenomena and his power of lucid exposition brought recognition from scientific bodies both at home and abroad; in 1906 he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society; in 1915 he received the Nobel Prize for Physics and the Barnard gold medal (Columbia University), both of which distinctions he shared with his son William John Bragg (b. 1890), who in 1919 became

Langworthy professor of physics in the university of Manchester. The joint work of father and son has gone far towards elucidating the arrangements of atoms in crystals, an achievement rendered possible by their development of the X-ray spectrometer. During the World War Sir William Bragg's services were placed at the disposal of the Admiralty, where he served in an advisory capacity; he was more especially associated with the problem of submarine detection. His public services of a confidential nature were acknowledged by the bestowal of the C.B.E. in 1917 and by his creation as K.B.E. in 1920. In the same year he was elected an hon. fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and served as president of the Physical Society of London.


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Rh detest each other's errors. And yet somewhere, deep down in the heart of each one of us, something yearns for the old land, and the old kindly people. Of all mysteries of the human heart, this is perhaps the most inscrutable. There is no special loveliness in that grey country, with its rainy, sea-beat archipelago; its fields of dark mountains; its unsightly places, black with coal; its treeless, sour, unfriendly-looking corn-lands; its quaint, grey, castled city, where the bells clash of a Sunday, and the wind squalls, and the salt showers fly and beat. I do not even know if I desire to live there; but let me hear, in some far land, a kindred voice sing out, "Oh, why left I my hame?" and it seems at once as if no beauty under the kind heavens, and no society of the wise and good, can repay me for my absence from my country. And though I think I would rather die elsewhere, yet in my heart of hearts I long to be buried among good Scots clods. I will say it fairly, it grows on me with every year: there are no stars so lovely as Edinburgh street-lamps. When I forget thee, auld Reekie, may my right hand forget its cunning! The happiest lot on earth is to be born a Scotchman. You must pay for it in many ways, as for all other advantages on earth. You have to learn the paraphrases and the shorter catechism; you


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Bramley, Frank

BRAMLEY, FRANK (1857–1915), English painter, was born near Boston, Lincs., May 6 1857. He studied art at Lincoln and later at Antwerp, first exhibiting in the Academy in 1884. Bramley became one of the best-known members of the group of English painters known as the Newlyn school, and in 1888 his picture, “A Hopeless Dawn,” was bought under the terms of the Chantrey bequest. He became A.R.A. in 1894, and was elected R.A. in 1911, being also a gold medallist of the French Salon. He died at Chalford Hill Aug. 10 1915.


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152 take to drink; your youth, as far as I can find out, is a time of louder war against society, of more outcry and tears and turmoil, than if you had been born, for instance, in England. But somehow life is warmer and closer; the hearth burns more redly; the lights of home shine softer on the rainy street; the very names, endeared in verse and music, cling nearer round our hearts. An Englishman may meet an Englishman to-morrow, upon Chimborazo, and neither of them care; but when the Scotch wine-grower told me of Mons Meg, it was like magic. And, Highland and Lowland, all our hearts are Scotch. Only a few days after I had seen M'Eckron, a message reached me in my cottage. It was a Scotchman who had come down a long way from the hills to market. He had heard there was a countryman in Calistoga, and came round to the hotel to see him. We said a few words to each other; we had not much to say—should never have seen each other had we stayed at home, separated alike in space and in society; and then we shook hands, and he went his way


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Rh again to his ranche among the hills, and that was all.

Another Scotchman there was, a resident, who for the mere love of the common country, douce, serious, religious man, drove me all about the valley, and took as much interest in me as if I had been his son: more, perhaps; for the son has faults too keenly felt, while the abstract countryman is perfect—like a whiff of peats. And there was yet another. Upon him I came suddenly, as he was calmly entering my cottage, his mind quite evidently bent on plunder: a man of about fifty, filthy, ragged, roguish, with a chimney-pot hat and a tail coat, and a pursing of his mouth that might have been envied by an elder of the kirk. He had just such a face as I have seen a dozen times behind the plate. "Hullo, sir!" I cried. "Where are you going?"

He turned round without a quiver. "You are a Scotchman, sir?" he said gravely. "So am I; I come from Aberdeen. This is my card," presenting me with a piece of pasteboard which he had raked out of some gutter in the period of the rains. "I was just examining this palm," he continued, indicating the misbegotten plant before our door, "which is the largest spacimen I have yet observed in Califoarnia."


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Bells and Pomegranates, Second Series/Earth's Immortalities

See, as the prettiest graves will do in time, Our poet's wants the freshness of its prime; Spite of the sexton's browsing horse, the sods Have struggled through its binding osier rods; Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry, Wanting the brick-work promised by-and-by; How the minute grey lichens, plate o'er plate, Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!

So, the year's done with (Love me for ever!) All March begun with, April's endeavour; May-wreaths that bound me    June needs must sever; Now snows fall round me, Quenching June's fever— (Love me for ever!)


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154 There were four or five larger within sight. But where was the use of argument? He produced a tape-line, made me help him to measure the tree at the level of the ground, and entered the figures in a large and filthy pocket-book, all with the gravity of Solomon. He then thanked me profusely, remarking that such little services were due between countrymen; shook hands with me, "for auld lang syne," as he said; and took himself solemnly away, radiating dirt and humbug as he went.

A month or two after this encounter of mine, there came a Scot to Sacramento—perhaps from Aberdeen. Anyway, there never was any one more Scotch in this wide world. He could sing and dance, and drink, I presume; and he played the pipes with vigour and success. All the Scotch in Sacramento became infatuated with him, and spent their spare time and money, driving him about in an open cab, between drinks, while he blew himself scarlet at the pipes. This is a very sad story. After he had borrowed money from every one, he and his pipes suddenly disappeared from Sacramento, and when I last heard, the police were looking for him.

I cannot say how this story amused me, when I felt myself so thoroughly ripe on both sides to be duped in the same way.


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Brandeis, Louis Dembitz

BRANDEIS, LOUIS DEMBITZ (1856-      ), American lawyer and jurist, was born in Louisville, Ky., Nov. 13 1856. He was educated in the public schools of his native city and at the Annen Realschule, Dresden, Germany. He graduated from the Harvard Law School in 1877, was admitted to the bar in 1878, and practised in Boston from 1879 to 1916. As a member of the Public Franchise League he took an active part in preserving municipal control of the Boston subway. He was instrumental in securing the passage of the Boston Sliding Scale Gas Act and was a pioneer in the movement for establishing life insurance through savings banks. He opposed the monopoly of transportation by the New Haven railway in New England. He was much interested in labour legislation, acting as counsel for the people in cases involving the constitutionality of fixing hours of labour and a minimum wage in several states. In 1915 he acted successfully as counsel for the Government in the suit brought by the Riggs National Bank in which the bank charged the Secretary of the Treasury and the Comptroller of the Currency with conspiring to wreck it. In Jan. 1916 he was appointed by President Wilson to succeed the late Justice Lamar as associate justice of the United States Supreme Court, being the first Jew to attain this position. He was the author of Other People's Money and Business as a Profession, besides numerous articles on public franchise, business efficiency, labour and trusts. He was prominent in Zionism and in 1914 was made chairman of the provisional committee for Zionist affairs.


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Rh It is at least a curious thing, to conclude, that the races which wander widest, Jews and Scotch, should be the most clannish in the world. But perhaps these two are cause and effect: "For ye were strangers in the land of Egypt."


text: Bells and Pomegranates, Second Series/The Lost Mistress


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NE thing in this new country very particularly strikes a stranger, and that is the number of antiquities. Already there have been many cycles of population succeeding each other, and passing away and leaving behind them relics. These, standing on into changed times, strike the imagination as forcibly as any pyramid or feudal tower. The towns, like the vineyards, are experimentally founded: they grow great and prosper by passing occasions; and when the lode comes to an end, and the miners move elsewhere, the town remains behind them, like Palmyra in the desert. I suppose there are, in no country in the world, so many deserted towns as here in California.

The whole neighbourhood of Mount Saint Helena, now so quiet and sylvan, was once alive


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Schuster, Sir Arthur

SCHUSTER, SIR ARTHUR (1851-      ), British physicist, was born in Frankfort-on-Main Sept. 12 1851, the son of Francis Joseph Schuster, of Frankfort, who in early life made his home in London, where he carried on a successful business as merchant-banker in Cannon St., his three sons, Ernest Joseph (b.1850), subsequently a well-known lawyer, Arthur, and Felix (see below), being brought up, like himself, as British subjects. Arthur Schuster was educated at Owens College, Manchester, and at Heidelberg University, and devoted himself to a scientific career as an astronomer and mathematical physicist. He was chief of the “Eclipse” expedition to Siam in 1875, and from 1888 to 1907 was professor of physics in Manchester University, his main work for many years being connected with advanced research in spectroscopy, on which subject he contributed the article in the 9th ed. of the E.B. in 1887 (as also to the 11th ed. in 1910). He was awarded the royal medal of the Royal Society in 1893, and was one of the secretaries of the Royal Society from 1912 till 1920. He was president of the British Association in 1915, having in 1892 acted as sectional president for astronomy, and he became well known throughout the scientific world, receiving hon. degrees from both Oxford and Cambridge. He was also secretary of the International Research Council, and during the World War, both in that capacity and as a representative of the Royal Society, he did invaluable work as a scientific adviser in connexion with the organization of research in various departments. He was knighted in 1920, and was appointed a member of the royal commission on the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. His numerous publications include works on Theory of Optics (2nd ed. 1909), The Progress of Physics (1911) and Britain's Heritage of Science (1917).

His brother,, Bart. (1854-      ), was also educated at Owens College, Manchester, and studied further abroad, afterwards making his career in London banking. From 1895 he was identified, as governor, with the Union Bank of London, afterwards the Union of London & Smiths Bank, and in 1918 amalgamated with the National Provincial Bank as the National Provincial & Union Bank of England. He was a member of the Council of India from 1906 to 1916, and became chairman both of the Central Association of Bankers and of the Committee of London Clearing Banks. In these years he established for himself a leading position in financial and economic circles, and was made a member of several important Government committees and royal commissions, his annual addresses to the shareholders of his bank being recognized, with those of Sir Edward Holden (of the London, City & Midland Bank), as among the most important contributions of the day to sound thinking on current monetary problems. He was created a baronet in 1906.