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  Chronicle, 1841, iii. p. 177; Calendar of Treasury Papers, 1556-7-1696, pp. 53, 106, 110.]

BOWER or BOWMAKER, WALTER (d. 1449), abbot of Inchcolm, is the reputed continuator of Fordun's 'Chronica Gentis Scotorum,' as it appears in the volume generally known as the 'Scotichronicon.' The latter book, however, in its printed form does not contain the name of Walter Bower, nor does it include any passage ascribing its compilation to the abbot of Inchcolm, who is credited with having written the work on the testimony of his contemporary but anonymous abbreviator in the Carthusian monastery at Perth a theory which is also supported by the heading of the 'Black Book of Paisley.' The abbot of Inchcolm is also cited in 1526 by Boethius as one of the chief authorities for his 'Historiæ Scotorum' (præf. iii, 2nd ed., Paris, 1526). Other evidence points in the same direction, and the identity of the author of the 'Scotichronicon' with the abbot of Inchcolm may be considered as fairly certain. According to his own testimony (xiv. 50), the writer of the 'Scotichronicon' was born in the year when Richard II burnt Dryburgh and Edinburgh, i.e. in 1385. To this the Book of Cupar adds that his birthplace was Haddington, where we find that a certain John Bower or Bowmaker was deputy-custumar from 1395 to 1398 (Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, iii. 364, 433). This officer Mr. Tytler considers to have been the abbot's father (Lives of Scottish Worthies, ii. 199; with which cf. Exch. Rolls, iv. pref. 88). Goodall makes Walter Bower become a monk at eighteen, after which, according to the same authority, he completed his philosophical and theological studies in Scotland, and was ordained priest before taking up his abode in Paris for the sake of perfecting himself in the law. But there seem to be no satisfactory proofs for these statements, and we are without any positive information as to Bower's life until in his thirty-third year he was consecrated abbot of Inchcolm on 17 April 1418 (Scotichronicon, xv. 30). It seems, however, very clear that the author of the 'Scotichronicon' had been a member of the Augustinian priory of St. Andrews and well acquainted with at least two of its priors James Biset (1393-1416) and James Haldenden (1418-1443). Under the former he appears to have received his education, and he may from his own words be inferred to have been a licentiate or bachelor in canon law, though perhaps not a master in theology (ib. vi. 55-7). There is, however, nothing to show with any certainty whether he took his degree at Paris or in the new university of St. Andrews, of which his patron James Biset was so prominent a founder (1410).

Very shortly after Biset's death at least six of his pupils were appointed to high church dignities, and amongst them, on 17 April 1418, Walter was consecrated abbot of Inchcolm, a small island in the Firth of Forth. Every summer he had to leave his house for the mainland to avoid the attacks of the English pirates, though before his death he fortified Inchcolm. Besides attending to the affairs of his abbey whose documents he copied with his own hands the new abbot was a prominent figure in politics. When James I returned from captivity, Bower was one of the two commissioners appointed to collect that king's ransom-money in 1423 and 1424. Nine years later (1433), on the betrothal of James's daughter to the dauphin, the same two commissioners were again entrusted with the collecting of the tax for her dowry, but were soon bidden by the king himself to desist from exacting the imposition (ib. xvi. 9). A few years previously (December 1430), on the submission of Alexander of the Isles, this nobleman's mother, the Countess of Ross, was confined in Inchcolm probably under the charge of Abbot Walter till her release in February 1432 (ib. xvi. 16, 20). In October of the same year the abbot was present at the council held at Perth for the consideration of the English propositions for peace. On this occasion, in company with his old friend the abbot of Scone, he made a strenuous opposition to the English offers, on the ground that James had sworn to make no peace with the English except with the consent of the French. The prudence of the two abbots was confirmed by the discovery that the whole affair was an artifice on the part of the English. It was not till about the year 1440 that Bower commenced to write the 'Scotichronicon,' at the request of Sir David Stewart of Rossyth, who, according to Mr. Skene, died in 1444. This work seems to have occupied several years, and was not completed till 1447 (cf. the dates given in Scotichronicon, lib. i. 8, vi. 57, xvi. 8, 26). Shortly before his death, which took place in 1449, according to the statement of the Carthusian abbreviator (, John of Fordun, lii), Bower seems to have condensed his larger work and divided it into forty books. The 'Scotichronicon' in its original form was divided into sixteen books, of which the first five and chapters 9-23 of the sixth are mainly the work of John Fordun, who also collected certain materials for continuing the history down to the year 1385. To the earlier books of Fordun Bower made large


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The Encyclopedia Americana (1920)/Fox

FOX, one of a group of small, long-eared, bushy-tailed animals of the dog-tribe (Canidæ), mostly included in the genus Vulpes; specifically, in literary usage, the red fox (V. vulgaris), called renard by the French and reinicke fuchs by the Germans. Foxes differ from wolves and jackals in being smaller, having shorter legs, longer, more furry and pointed ears, a more slender elongated muzzle, and a longer and more bushy tail; and they incline to that yellowish red color called “foxy.” But these distinctions are difficult of limitation (see to recognize a separate genus for them. One fixed character is found in the pupil of the eye, which when contracted becomes elliptical in the foxes but remains round in other dogs. All the typical foxes are inhabitants of northerly latitudes, and well represented by the common red fox, which may be regarded as distributed throughout the whole northern hemisphere, though variously named in different countries, where local diversities exhibit themselves; thus the American variety is called V. pennsylvanicus, but it is not essentially different from those of the Old World. Its variations are as great here as in Europe and Asia, especially among those of the Far North, where certain color-phases have superior value in the fur-trade. Thus a fox marked with a dark line along the spine and another over the shoulders, is called a “cross” fox, and fine specimens are worth an extra price. Wholly black ones are uncommon; but the rarest and most valuable pelt is that of a “silver” fox, that is, a black one in which so many hairs are white-tipped that a hoary or silvered appearance is given to the skin. The red fox is fostered for the sport of fox-hunting (q.v.) in Great Britain, and in some parts of Eastern America, but in most countries he is regarded merely as a fur-bearer, or a poultry thief or worse, and is trapped, shot and poisoned continuously. Nevertheless, the animal survives and multiplies in the midst of civilization, by virtue of its power of comprehension of and adaptation to new conditions; so that he has acquired, very justly, a reputation for alertness,
 * ), and some naturalists refuse

wit and cunning in contrivance for food and safety. In America this species is constantly extending its range southward at the expense of the gray fox. Another species yielding a valuable fur is the Arctic or blue fox (V. lagopus), which is found on all Arctic coasts, and although brownish in summer, becomes in winter pure white; but the under fur is always bluish, and in those of Alaska this color prevails over brown in summer. Certain of the Aleutian Islands have lately been devoted by local fur companies to rearing these foxes in semi-captivity, where they are cared for, and a selected number annually sacrificed to trade. North America has two other well-marked species. One is the swift or kit fox (V. velox) of the plains, which is only 20 inches long, exceedingly swift of foot, expert in digging and cunning at concealment. It has reddish-yellow fur in summer, but becomes dull gray in winter, with black patches each side of the nose. The other species is the gray fox, which was once generally distributed over the United States but has become extinct in the northeastern part since the general clearing and settlement of the country. It is a woodland animal, still numerous in the South and West. Its hair is stiffer and duller in color than that of the red fox and it is so peculiar in structural respects (among others in having a concealed mane of stiff hairs on the top of the tail) that it has been classified in a separate genus as Urocyon argenteus. Several well-known species dwell in Asia, the best-known of which is the familiar fox of northern India (V. bengalensis).

Foxes everywhere are burrowing animals or else adapt to family needs holes in rocks, hollows of old stumps and similar conveniences. They hide by day and go abroad at night in search of small prey, stalking and catching birds on their nests, or at roost on the ground, ground-squirrels, mice, frogs and insects, and also eating largely of certain roots, fruits and other vegetable food. They are hardy, hunt all winter and climb mountain peaks. They never hunt in packs, as do wolves; and their voice is nearer a bark than a howl. They do not readily submit to domestication, and seem to have contributed little if anything to the composition of domestic breeds of dogs.

Consult for information on Old World foxes, the writings of Bell, Brehm, Blanford, Mivart and Beddard, well-summed up in Lydekker's ‘Royal Natural History’ (Vol. I). For American foxes, read Richardson, Hearne, Audubon, Merriam, the writings of Nelson, Turner and Murdoch on the natural history of Alaska, and the general remarks in Cram and Stone's ‘American Animals’ (1902).

RED FOX

1 Cape Fox or Lalande's Dog   2 Arctic Fox     3 Side-striped Jackal or Quaha     4 Silver Fox     5 Corsac

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

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Rh And now my account is ended: not that I have exhausted the country. I have done no more than touch upon some points in it. It is a country that fascinates any one who visits it, that lays hold of his heart in strange fashion, and he is inclined when back in England to say, with Ferdinand Fabre:—

"Quand mon cerveau à vidé sur le papier blanc sa mince provision d'idées journalières, les coudes à la barre d'appui (de ma fenêtre) je coule là, en une paresse délicieuse, de longues heurs à rêver. Mon âme alors s'envole au pays si profondément incrusté en elle, ce pays que je rétrouve dans le moindre plis de mes pensées, ce pays qui, le plus ordinairement, lorsque j'ose écrire, me commande, et auquel j'obéis."


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302 ladies, which they also broke. Their sarcophagus is a Christian tomb of the fourth century, with Christ and the evangelists, or apostles, carved on it; at the extremities Adam and Eve and the Three Children in the Furnace. Perhaps the greatest treasure in the church is a black marble altar with panels of white marble and inlaid work of coloured glass, very beautiful, of the date 1138.

Pilgrimages arrive at S. Guilhem on Monday in Easter week and October 1st.

On the south side of the church is the cloister, very early, contemporary with the nave, and with traces of painting in it; but it has been pulled to pieces. In the midst stood a fountain that spouted water in as many jets as there are days in the year. But it was sold to a Paris dealer in antiquities, and where it now is cannot be said. The old monastic buildings, burnt by the Camisards, were reconstructed, and are now occupied by a Baron d'Albenas.

Some of the houses in the town are certainly Romanesque. There was a second church in the place, but it is now in ruins.

Returning to Aniane, it is worth mentioning that in destroying the old presbytery a marble slab was found bearing an Arabic inscription: "In the name of Allah, the clement and merciful, peace be with Mahomed. There is but one God. It is to Him, and to Him alone, that all power is due." A precisely identical inscription has been found at Montpellier, and this shows that the Saracens were in Languedoc not only as destroyers and raiders, but as inhabitants. Guillaume planted himself very close to where they had been, and whence he had turned them out.


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Rh sorry figure. His garments were threadbare and ragged, his linen had obviously not been washed for months, nor was his hair combed and brushed. He was constrained to take a stool far back in the hall. Presently his wrath overcame his astonishment at this insulting reception. He stood up, as he saw his own father and mother, the Count and Countess of Narbonne, received with favour and seated beside the Emperor and Empress. In a loud and terrible voice he cried: "Louis! for all the great services I have rendered you, for all the battles I have fought for you—is this my reward?" "Set your mind at rest," answered the King; "you shall be rewarded by and by." "What!" cried the Queen, "will you rob me of my heritage to give it to him?" Then Guillaume shouted: "Be quiet, impure dog!" and he recited before all the court some of his sister's escapades. Then, striding through the crowd of nobles, he mounted to the throne, plucked the crown from his sister's head, and dashed it on the floor.

The abbey church is a fine Romanesque building, not earlier than the first years of the eleventh century. Of that date are the nave and side aisles. Choir, transepts, and porch were added at the end of the twelfth century. The nave communicates with the side aisles by five great arches supported by cruciform piers, and is lighted by three loftily placed windows. The ornamentation of the church is on the outside. To each transept is an apse. The principal apse has an arcade externally like the Lombardic churches on the Rhine. In the apse of the north aisle are the sarcophagi of Guillaume Courtenez and his sisters. That of the founder was so broken by the Camisards that it was not possible to piece it together again, as has been done with the tomb of the


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300 many a fresh-faced damsel, many a well-dressed dame, and therefore will lose your heart. You will forget me and this land where you have suffered such pains and endured hunger and thirst."

It must be known that at this time Guillaume and Gibors had been married something like five-and-twenty years. They were not a young couple just out of their honeymoon. Then he replied, kissing Gibors tenderly:—

On reaching Paris, Guillaume was very badly received. The reason was that Louis the Emperor had married Blanchefleur, the sister of the Duke; that she was white only in name; was, in fact, a disreputable character; so dreading a scolding from her pious brother she had prejudiced her husband against him. When he reached the door of the palace, no squire came to his aid, no one saluted him, no groom offered to take his horse, which he accordingly tied to an olive tree. The southern poet, never having been in the north, supposed that the same trees grew there as in Provence and Languedoc. Guillaume entered the royal hall and saw the Emperor on his throne and the Empress in ermine and gold at his side, both crowned. Neither took notice of him, and all the princes and nobles turned the cold shoulder to him. And indeed he cut a


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Rh was grandson of Charles Martel, and he also was a hammer to smite the Saracens. In 793 he fought them at Carcassonne and drove them back; in 797 he wrested Narbonne from them. Then, pursuing them, he drove them out of Barcelona. War made him a misanthrope, and misanthropy made a monk of him. He retired to this desert, settled there with his sisters twain, Albara and Bertrara, and died there on May 28th, 812; and when he died the bellspealed of themselves. His heroic life and pious end became the theme of one of the longest and finest of the Provençal Chansons de Gestes, that of Guillaume de Courtenez—whence the honoured name of Courtenay in England. This is what Fauriel says of the romance:—

I think I must find place for a single episode from this poem. It relates to the parting of Guillaume and his wife Gibors, when he was about to go to Paris to ask for succour:—

"Sire Guillaume," said she, "you go into France so highly lauded, and you leave me here, sad, among people that love me not. In the honoured land of France you will meet with


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It would be possible to shrink the line spacing, by using something like. Not my first choice though. —Spangineer (háblame) 18:40, 29 October 2010 (UTC)
 * I reckon that would be dodgy too; I've tested larger and smaller block, but fiddling with line height can look wierd. btw, I penalised meself for wonkery by adding a line to his article. cygnis insignis 19:17, 29 October 2010 (UTC)

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298 wild pomegranate with its crimson flowers may be found here and about Aniane.

As we ascend the valley, looking down into emerald green pools or wreaths of foam, we light on curious domed structures by the water. These are ancient mills, vaulted over with stone as a protection against floods that sometimes cover them many feet with rolling water, and in one place is a tower beside them up which the millers might fly for refuge when the torrent came rolling down unexpectedly.

All at once we reach the opening of a narrow lateral valley, where are the remains of a tower and walls, and where also are two humble inns, in one of which, as I can vouch, at very short notice an excellent déjeuner can be improvised. "Go up and see S. Guilhem," said the old woman of the inn, "and see what I shall have when you return." So we went, and on coming back she produced crayfish just caught in a net, also a rabbit; further, a couple of fieldfares plump with juniper berries; these, with vegetable soup, foie gras, boiled beef, etc., made a rare lunch.

S. Guilhem is a little town drawn out in a thread alongside of a small stream that rises at the base of a cirque of pink and yellow Jura-limestone above the place. It is itself surmounted by a crag towering high into the sky with what appears to be a lacework of stone on top, actually the ruins of a castle, called of Don Juan. Halfway up is a tower and gateway, through which alone the castle could be reached by a stair cut in the rock, but now the summit can be attained by a circuitous path cut for the purpose.

The village, or little town, grew about an abbey founded by Guillaume, Duke of Aquitaine, in 804. He


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Rh picturesque towns in France. It can be reached from Montpellier by taking the train to Aniane and walking or driving thence, or from Clermont in a carriage.

The Hérault escapes from its gorges at S. Jean de Foss, a little walled town, of which one gate remains. The church, crowded about by houses, is very early Romanesque and peculiar in many ways. It underwent alterations in the second Pointed period. There is a west tower, and the chancel is bored out under another.

Aniane is an uninteresting place, with a church built in the eighteenth century, very ugly. The huge abbey was also rebuilt about the same period, and now serves as a prison. I have not stayed the night at Aniane, and think that perhaps the inns may be better on the inside than they appear without. They do not invite to try their internal comforts.

The Hérault breaks out into the plain through a gorge of calcareous rocks, and it has sawn for itself a deep cleft in the bed below the roadway. The strata therein are strangely contorted. From Aniane a bridge is crossed, Le Pont du Diable, not very alarming, in spite of its name, and above is an aqueduct that conveys the water of the Hériault by a channel into the plain to Gignac and beyond that to S. André, carrying fertility with it.

Springs break forth from the cliffs, forming tables of calcareous deposit. One of these, of a high temperature, has constructed a large shelf extending towards the river, into which it flows.

The cliffs on each side of the ravine are very bare, striated, grey and yellow and white, spotted here and there with shrubs, aromatic and evergreen, and the


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known of them beyond Bale's notice. Other works on biblical subjects—the birth of Christ, the Protomartyr, and Athanasius— which appear in Bale's memoir may have been dramas. Of his classical scholarship Grimald has left other valuable proofs. The first edition of his translation into English of Cicero's 'De Officiis,' entitled 'M. T. Ciceroe's Three Bookes of Dueties,' dedicated to Thomas Thirleby, bishop of Ely, London, 8vo, seems to have appeared in 1553, and a second edition in 1556, but we have been unable to discover copies of either. The editions of 1558, 1574, 1583, and 1596 (?) are in the British Museum. As late as 1591 was issued a scholarly Latin paraphrase of Virgil's 'Georgies,' under the title 'Nicolai Grimoaldi viri doctiss. in P. V. Maronis quatuor libros Georgicorum in oratione soluta paraphrasis elegantissima Oxonii in æde Christi anno Eduardi sexti secundo confecta,' London, G. Bishop and R. Newbery, 1591. Googe refers to Grimald's labours on Virgil in his epitaph on Phayre, and implies that he attempted an English translation. The only other extant book with certainty attributable to Grimald is 'Oratio ad Pontifices, Londini in æde Paulina anno Dom. 1553 17 Idus Aprilis habita in Synodo publica per Nicolaum Grimoaldum,' London, H. Binneman, 1583 (Bodl. Libr.) Bale attributes to Grimald an anonymous work issued in 1549, entitled 'Vox Populi, or The People's Complaint,' which was, writes Wood, 'against rectors, vicars, archdeacons, deans, &c., for living remote from their flocks, and for not performing the duty belonging to their respective offices.' Hunter suggests, on no very obvious grounds, that Grimald may be the anonymous translator of Dr. Lawrence Humfrey's 'Of Nobles and of Nobility, … late englished with a similar treatise by Philo the Jew' (London, by Thomas March, 1563), and the anonymous author of 'The Institution of a Gentleman,' dedicated to Lord Fitz-Walter (London, by T. March, 1555).

Besides the pieces assumed to be dramatic which we have already mentioned, Bale's list of Grimald's unpublished works includes speeches, sermons, religious tracts, letters, and poems. There are verses on Protector Somerset's restoration to power in 1551, and to Bale himself; treatises 'in partitiones Tullii,' 'in Andriam Terentianam,' 'in epistolas Horatii,' and translations from the Greek of Xenophon's 'De Disciplina Cyri,' and 'Hesiodi Ascrea.' Grimald is said to have made emendations for an edition of Matthew of Vendôme's 'Tobias,' and to have contemplated an edition of Joseph of Exeter's Latin poem on the Trojan war.

[Wood's Athenæ, ed. Bliss, i. 407-11; Cooper's Athenæ Cantabr. i. 230-1; Bale's De Script. Angl.; Tanner's Bibl. Brit. p. 344; Strype's Cranmer, iii. 128-30 ; Ritson's Bibliographia Poetica; Ridley's Works (Parker Soc.), pp. 337, 372; the Rev. A. B. Grimaldi's Cat. of Printed Books, &c., by Writers of the name of Grimaldi, London, 1883 (privately printed); notes supplied by the Rev. A. B. Grimaldi; Arber's reprint of Tottel's Miscellany; Hunter's MS. Chorus Vatum in Add. MS. 24487, pp. 228-231; Herford's Lit. Relations of England and Germany (1886). Professor Arber's argument that the poet is distinct from Ridley's chaplain (whose name is spelt Grimbold by Strype) is controverted by the references in Foxe and in Ridley's correspondence.]  GRIMALDI, JOSEPH (1779–1837), actor and pantomimist, born 18 Dec. 1779 in Stanhope Street, Clare Market, came of a family of dancers and clowns. His grandfather, Giovanni Battista Grimaldi, was known in Italy and France, and his father, Giuseppe Grimaldi (d. 23 March 1788, aged 75), is said to have acted at the Théâtres de la Foire in France, to have first appeared in London at the King's Theatre in the Haymarket, and to have played at Drury Lane in 1758-9, and subsequently at Sadler's Wells. During the Lord George Gordon riots he wrote, instead of 'No Popery,' 'No Religion' on his door. Grimaldi's mother, a Mrs. Rebecca Brooker, danced and played utility parts at the last-named theatres. The first appearance of 'Joe' Grimaldi was at Sadler's Wells, 16 April 1781, as an infant dancer, and he took part in the pantomime of 1781, or that of 1782, at Drury Lane. In the intervals between his engagements at the two theatres he went to a boarding-school at Putney, kept by a Mr. Ford. In successive pantomimes at Drury Lane and Sadler's Wells he acquired mastery of his profession. A list of the pieces in which he appeared is valueless, and his adventures, though they furnish material for a volume, are to a great extent imaginary, or consist of accidents such as are to be expected in his occupation. After his father's death he was allowed to act at the two houses—Drury Lane and Sadler's Wells—on the same night, and had to run from one to the other. His boyish amusements consisted in breeding pigeons and collecting insects. He is said to have collected with great patience four thousand specimens of flies. In 1798 he married Maria Hughes, the eldest daughter of one of the proprietors of Sadler's Wells. His work at this time was arduous, and his earnings were considerable. He was, however, through life imprudent or unlucky in his investments, and rarely succeeded in


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296 Berwick. He demanded to be exchanged for Marshal Tallard, who was a prisoner in the hands of the English, and threatened that if this were not done the English would make Tallard suffer the same death that was inflicted on him. His trial was short, and he was condemned to be burnt alive along with Ravanel, his accomplice in the intended murder.

At the stake Ravanel thundered forth a psalm of Marot, but Catinat, who was chained by him, died biting Ravanel's shoulder, possibly in the delirium of his agony.

A very interesting walled town on the causse is La Couvertoirade, for which there is a station on the line from Le Vigan. It was a commandery of the Templars, and after their suppression of the Knights of S. John.

La Couvertoirade seems to attest to the present day the power of these military orders, and to reveal to us as in a picture the story of their greatness, their faults, and their misfortunes. The general plan is that of an irregular hexagon; the southern portion is occupied by a huge rock that sustains the castle and the church. The ramparts of the town, that are almost perfect, were begun at the end of the thirteenth century and finished at the beginning of the fourteenth. The houses of the little place have a character that harmonises well with the ring of walls enclosing them. If La Couvertoirade shows traces of decay produced by time or the violence of men, the town is, nevertheless, one of the most curious and best-preserved examples of a fortified place of the Middle Ages that can be found in Southern France.

S. Guilhem-le-Désert is one of the strangest and most


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Rh Lodève only by ladders planted against the precipice at the Pas de l'Escalette.

Le Caylar stands 2,400 feet above the sea, and was once a walled town, with its castle on a rock above it. From the summit the prospect is strange, and not to be forgotten. The eye stretches over the vast barren plain of the same white rock, that here and there assumes strange forms. At night, when the moon glares over it, these rocks with their black shadows stand up in the most fantastic shapes, and nothing can be conceived more surprising. One is in la belle France, indeed—but where is the beauty?

The flora of these plateaux is sufficiently interesting. A list of the plants that the Larzac produces will be found in Fabre (A.), Histoire du Canton du Caylar, Montpellier, 1895.

Le Caylar was the birthplace of Abdias Maurel, called Catinat, the Camisard chief, of whom I have already related some of the achievements.

When Cavalier submitted, Catinat in wrath withdrew and vowed to continue the conflict; but finally he also was compelled to abandon the struggle, and he retired into Switzerland in September, 1704. But he was restless, and two months later recrossed the frontier and entered into a conspiracy, the object of which was to remove the governor Bâville and the Duke of Berwick by assassination. The plot was discovered whilst he was in Nîmes, 2Oth April, 1705, and Catinat attempted to escape from the town in disguise, having shaved his face. A price had been set on his head. At the gate of Nîmes something suspicious in his appearance caused his arrest, and compromising letters were discovered secreted about his person. He was led to the Duke of


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294 penetrate it at the Col de Sanctières, and issue from its huge bulk again at Mont Paon, a distance of fifteen miles. But from its abrupt precipices above Milau to the bold frontage of glaring white at L'Escalette is a distance of twenty-four miles. Elisée Reclus says of it:—

When the water in the cisterns fails, the caussenard has to make a day's journey to descend into the valleys and fetch the pure liquid from one of the springs that issue there, either in boisterous cascades or welling up out of deep abysses, thrust forth silently by the pressure of the water from above.

A century ago the Larzac could be reached from


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tipping, William


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tiptoft, John (1375?-1443)


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tiptoft, John (1427?-1470)


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tiptoft, Robert de


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tirechan


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tirel, Walter


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tisdal, Philip


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tisdal, William


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Rh The octagon is surmounted by a dome. The church is of great simplicity, and consists of a nave, vaulted, with a circular apse. On the north side is a pretty portal of three orders, resting on pillars with foliaged capitals.

Near the church is a little chapel, on the front of which is inlaid an inscription in characters of the twelfth century, stating that it was consecrated on the 11th of the Calends of June in honour of S. Michael, but without date of the year.

At no considerable distance is a remarkably well-preserved dolmen. The end stone is pierced with a triangular opening, through which food was thrust for the dead who lay within. From Lodève the great upland causse can be reached by the road that leads to Le Caylar, through the valley of the Lergue and by the passage of l’Escalette. This was formerly a scramble up a stair of rocks, but now a good road has been driven up the heights to the vast plateau of Larzac, which has been seen as the train passes over it from Le Vigan to Tournemire.

There are caves to be explored near Lodève by such as enjoy such underground excursions; and these with marvellous stalagmitic and stalactitic formations. Such are the Mas de Bouquet, in the commune of Soubès. Another is the Grotte de Labeil, opening out of a cirque of rocks above the source of the Baume-Bauède, that once found its issue thence, but has now burrowed its way to a lower level.

Larzac (Larga saxa) is the most extensive and the most barren of all the limestone causses—a Siberian tundra in winter, an Arabia Petræa in summer.

It seems to be transpierced by the Cevennes, that


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tisdale, John


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Titcomb, Jonathan Holt


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tite, William


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Titiens, Teresa Caroline Johanna


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Titley, Walter


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Titus, Silius


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tobias


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tobin, George


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tobin, John


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Tod, James


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Todd, Alpheus


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Todd, Elliott D'Arcy


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Todd, Henry John


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 422 FUSELI.

considered the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds unequal. He said that a great many of them were indifferent, though some were so wonderfully fine, that nothing could surpass them; but he observed, that even the most inferior picture from the pencil of Sir Thomas Lawrence was excellent.

Fuseli, speaking of Nollekens to me, said, "He think himself a very cunning little fellow in his plagiarisms, but he can be detected as well as other artists. Why, the principle of the position of the Mercury he modelled from you, he took from Stella's print after Poussin's picture of the 'Accusation of Peter.'" This accusation reached the ear of Nollekens, who observed to me, that Fuseli had no occasion to make such a remark; "for I know," said he, "he fluently steals things himself. Why, do you know, he stole the idea of one of the figures for Seward's Anecdotes, from a female in the background of Pesne's print after Poussin's Woman at the Well. He sketched it in my parlour, one evening, from my print, and showed it to


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Rh Mrs. Nollekens, and said it would do very well for a figure in deep meditation; so that I am sure Fuseli need not talk of my taking a hint for my Mercury, But he's always for ever ridiculing me." As to the extent of the truth of this, I shall not venture a remark: but this I do know, and Mr. Knowles is my authority, that when his friend, the late Mr. Coutts, requested him to recommend a Sculptor to execute a bust of him, Fuseli immediately answered, "Go to Nollekens for a bust."

It is well known that Fuseli could put forth his sting when he indulged his wit, as will appear in the following anecdote. Fuseli, hearing that Northcote, the Painter, kept a dog, immediately exclaimed, "What? Northcote keep a dog! what must he feed upon? Why he must eat his own fleas."

Severe as Fuseli was, I should be sorry to merit the lash of Northcote, for his thong would make any man's back, tingle who dared to kick him viciously; indeed Fuseli has been known to smart at even the twitch of Northcote's retort-courteous. As for the dog alluded to, I will answer for Duke, that he, poor fellow! was one of the most sagacious, faithful, best-bred, and best-fed animals I ever knew. His very eyes smiled at his master and mistress's friendly


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 424 visitors. As I have said master and mistress, it is proper that the biographer of a centurion to come should not be misled, and conclude that Mr. Northcote had been a married man. His sister keeps his house, and then happiness seems to exist in the society of each other; they listen to each other's anecdotes with the pleasure of old friends, and receive their visitors with true hospitality.

A late worthy friend, who would now and then make my fireside-party smile, has declared, that Mr. Northcote's sister appeared to him like Northcote in petticoats; and they certainly are wonderfully alike. There is, indeed, one most honourable circumstance which this celebrated artist has to boast of, namely, that his pictures, whenever they have been resold at auctions, have always been knocked down for more than four times their original price; and what is more, they have generally been purchased by persons of high rank and taste. Lord Egremont has; perhaps, the finest, specimens of his pencil.

One day, as Fuseli, Northcote, and Legat, the Engraver, were walking from Hampstead to London, the two latter gentlemen were extolling the talent of Brown, the Draughtsman, who was. so much noticed by Mr. Townley. Fuseli, after having listened to the Artist's praise,


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 434 to love him. Mr. Knowles kindly complied with my request to insert, in this work, the following inscriptions engraven upon it.

To the above inscription Mrs. Fuseli caused the following to be added.

Another favour I now publicly ask of Mr. Knowles, namely, that he will allow an engraving of his friend's portrait, painted by Harlow, to accompany his life. For this picture, Fuseli placed himself in a studious position, and the Painter, who had numerous sittings, has succeeded beyond expression; for it is not only a fine specimen of colouring, but of most exquisite finishing: he was two days engaged upon his right hand only, which accords most


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292 Nevertheless, with all its faults, the clumsiness of hand of an unskilled artist, who opened these windows to let in the light of heaven;—these immense bays, enriched with little pillars having carved capitals, divided into two by a single mullion that rises unsustained to the point where the tracery begins, and receive the ribs of the vaulting, lay hold of and retain one's eyes. The vaults, distributed in five bays, are designed not without dignity. The whole edifice, in spite of gross and many architectural faults—faults of construction, faults of arrangement—breathes a certain robust grace, a barbaric charm, making it the most interesting and most grateful of sanctuaries in our land."

A pretty, late flamboyant, melting into early Renaissance, chapel is between the cathedral and the cloister.

The old episcopal palace has been converted into municipal buildings, and the gardens into a fine promenade; so that the long conflict that endured for centuries has ended in the complete victory of the people. The bishopric was suppressed at the Concordat.

Between Clermont and Lodève the line runs through a red sandstone district, curiously bare and water-torn. The red stone seems to melt like butter under the rain, and with the least rush of water it swims away in masses, and grass can scarcely grow on the denuded surface.

At the distance of an hour and a half from Lodève is the well-preserved monastery of S. Michel-de-Grammont, now converted into farm buildings. It has a Romanesque cloister and a pointed chapter-house. The tower bears an octagonal campanile, rising out of a square base, the four windows of which are flamboyant.


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Rh enraged at this bit of deceit, again rose, broke into the palace, and killed the perjured bishop. The punishment inflicted on the town for this act was severe. However, the citizens were determined on resistance, and at last the controversy was submitted to arbitration, and they gained most of what they had demanded.

The cathedral is of the fourteenth century. The nave of three bays has side aisles and chapels on the south side, one of which, dedicated to S. Michael, is recessed behind richly moulded arches. The choir consists of two bays, with a nine-sided apse with lofty narrow two-light windows in each side. A curious arrangement is the walling up on each side of the choir so as to transform the continuation of the aisles into lengthy independent chapels. On the north side is the richly adorned chapel of S. Fulcran. The west front has no doorway in it, but a beautiful rose window between machicolated turrets. To see it one must enter the gendarmerie which occupies this end of the building. Poor fragmentary cloisters remain on the south.

Ferdinand Fabre thus describes the interior of the cathedral:—

"It has a nave and side aisles. The choir is large, lengthy, and occupies almost half the church, which gives an impression of surprise, and awakes in one the unpleasant idea that there is a want of proportion in the general disposition of the monument. But when this vexatious impression has passed away, one admires the nine windows of the apse, of original design, enormously lofty, certainly not in the purest style. The Gothic of the South always retained something incomplete, coarse, disagreeable, and never attained to the marvellous proportion, to the supreme elegance, to the aerial grace of the North.


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 482 Painting in the Royal Academy, which had almost exhausted him, he was so revived by the sight of Cooper, who stood near him, that he said with a smile; "What! is it you, Cooper? well, how goes on entomology?"

Fuseli has seldom been spoken of as a Painter beyond a chiaro-'scurist, nor was it until I saw his picture of the Embrace of Sin and Death, that I had any idea of his knowledge of colouring; but, in that performance, he most certainly has proved that he could colour most beautifully, and why he neglected so essential a branch of his art, after producing so brilliant a specimen, is most extraordinary. This treasure is in the possession of Mr. Knowles, who has withstood every temptation to part with it, even from his dearest friend Fuseli himself; who, upon all occasions, declared it to be by far the best picture in every respect that he had produced. In my opinion, it possesses a combination of the style of Rembrandt and Titian; and is altogether, though not of so brown a cast, not unlike the usual effect of Sir Joshua Reynolds; in particular, the right arm of the female figure, which is altogether admirably drawn, is a rich, clear, and perfect specimen of flesh. There is neither name nor date upon this picture; nor was it, Mr. Knowles informs


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Rh, from our infancy, to the use of books, it is not easy to form an adequate idea of the disadvantages which those laboured under, who had to acquire the whole of their knowledge through the medium of universities and schools;—blindly devoted as the generality of students must then have been to the peculiar opinions of the teacher, who first unfolded to their curiosity the treasures of literature and the wonders of science. Thus error was perpetuated; and, instead of yielding to time, acquired additional influence in each successive generation. In modern times, this influence of names is, comparatively speaking, at an end. The object of a public teacher is no longer to inculcate a particular system of dogmas, but to prepare his pupils for exercising their own judgments; to exhibit to them an outline of the different sciences, and to suggest subjects for their future examination. The few attempts to establish schools, and to found sects, have all (after perhaps a temporary success) proved abortive. Their effect, too, during their short continuance, has been perfectly the reverse of that of the schools of antiquity; for whereas these were instrumental, on many occasions, in establishing and diffusing error in the world, the founders of our modern sects, by mixing up important truths with their own peculiar tenets, and by disguising them under the garb of a technical phraseology, have fostered such prejudices against themselves, as have blinded the public mind to all the lights


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32 they were able to communicate. Of this remark a melancholy illustration occurs (as M. Turgot long ago predicted) in the case of the French economists; and many examples of a similar import might be produced from the history of science in our country; more particularly from the history of the various medical and metaphysical schools which successively rose and fell during the last century.

With the circumstances already suggested, as conspiring to accelerate the progress of knowledge, another has co-operated very extensively and powerfully; the rise of the lower orders in the different countries of Europe,—in consequence partly of the enlargement of commerce, and partly of the efforts of the Sovereigns to reduce the overgrown power of the feudal aristocracy. Without this emancipation of the lower orders, and the gradual diffusion of wealth by which it was accompanied, the advantages derived from the invention of printing would have been extremely limited. A certain degree of ease and independence is essentially requisite to inspire men with the desire of knowledge, and to afford the leisure necessary for acquiring it; and it is only by the encouragement which such a state of society presents to industry and ambition, that the selfish passions of the multitude can be interested in the intellectual improvement of their children. It is only, too, in such a state of society, that education and books are likely to increase the sum of human happiness; for while these advantages are confined to one privileged description of individuals, they but furnish them with an additional engine for debasing and misleading the minds of their inferiors. To all which it may be added, that it is chiefly by the shock and collision of different and opposite prejudices, that truths are gradually cleared from that admixture of error which they have so strong a tendency to acquire, wherever the course of public opinion is forcibly constrained and guided within certain artificial channels, marked out by the narrow views of human policy. The diffusion of knowledge, therefore, occasioned by the rise of the lower orders, would necessarily contribute to the improvement of useful


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290 Meanwhile the oppressions of the people by the count had become intolerable. They were crushed with taxation and denied municipal rights. The tower served as an excuse for a quarrel. Gentle as he was, Fulcran was determined to come to conclusions with the count. At his word the citizens rose, were aided by the country folk, Montbrun was stormed, and the bishop held Count Eldin prisoner till he had given guarantees not to continue his misrule. When Fulcran died in 1006 he had marked out the course his successors were to follow. They continued to snatch from the seigneur one right after another, and when the county passed into the hands of the Duke of Rodez, the Castle of Montbrun went by way of purchase to the bishops, and they became both spiritual and temporal lords of the county.

But what all this while of the people? At the outset it had assisted Fulcran in his strife with the count; it had contributed to effect the revolution that finally transferred the temporal power from lay into ecclesiastical hands. The ambition of Fulcran's successors knew no limits. After having conquered the seigneur they attacked the municipal liberties.

The people of Lodève soon saw that they had changed masters for the worse. A struggle broke out between them and their masters that caused much blood to flow. One bishop was driven from his palace.Later, in 1202, the inhabitants sent delegates to the prelate, Pierre de Frotier, to complain of his unendurable exactions. He refused to admit them to his presence. Then the mob broke in on him and made him swear to grant concessions. He appealed to Innocent III., who at once relieved him of his oath. The people,


text: Mark Aloysius Tierney

title: Mark Aloysius Tierney


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Rh where they constitute the picturesque passage of l'Escalette.

The castle is mentioned in records from 790; it is called Castrum Morelinum, or Morazios Villa; Mourezés in 1625, and Mourèze in 1659.

The church, of two bays, has a seven-sided apse, and is of the thirteenth century. It is vaulted, and has no aisles. The tower is square.

The train will take one to Lodève, an ancient cathedral city, and before that a Roman Castrum Luteva. Paris was also a Luteva.

When Charlemagne completed the expulsion of the Arabs out of Septimania, he made of Lodève a county under his empire, and granted considerable privileges to the bishops.

There arose by degrees three powers to dispute possession of the land, the Municipality, the Count, and the Bishop, representing the people, the aristocracy, and the clergy. The history of Lodève is thenceforth a history of their conflicts for pre-eminence. In the tenth century arose a man who gave a new direction to affairs. Hitherto the counts had retained the mastery; now the Church would attempt to grapple with their power.

This man was Fulcran, who ascended the episcopal throne at the age of thirty in 947. He was noted for his beauty, for his grace of manner towards all men, so that, although a member of a noble family, he was greatly beloved by the common people. He wrote nothing; he was above all an orator and a man of action. He began to build a tower to his cathedral. The Count Eldin, who occupied the Castle of Montbrun, ordered him to pull it down. Fulcran refused.


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text: John Tobin

title: John Tobin


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288 Each grain, having a power of resistance different from the other, yields or remains under the influence of the air and rains, so that alongside of massive rocks, eroded, hollowed out, perforated, or protruding in knots and elbows, are heaps of sand formed by the decomposition of the cement that held the grains in place. Thus are obtained the most bizarre and varied shapes of rock. All that imagination can picture of what is strange is found here—dismantled towers, gigantic monoliths, excavated walls, narrow gullies between monstrous shapes, great porticoes, pyramids standing on their heads, grouped together, and among them cottages clinging to their sides, a church on a ledge above a precipice, and over all a castle, the walls of which can hardly be distinguished from the rock out of which they grow. Contrast adds to the picturesque effect. The dolomite bristling with needles lies in the lap of a great cirque or cradle of more compact calcareous rock, disposed in regular horizontal beds, and attaining to a top over 1,610 feet that supports the ruins of the Romanesque church of S. Jean d'Aureillan. These walls back the scene on the north. The south is closed by the Puy de Bissou, clothed in woods, 1,450 feet. To the west is the mountain of S. Scholastica, 1,500 feet, and wooded ranges to the east of less elevation complete the enclosure and the screen that hides Mourèze from the world without.

The dolomite formation of Mourèze forms an almost continuous belt from Bédarieux to Bories and the north of Clermont. The region of Carlencas on this line presents an equally extraordinary appearance. The same rock is found north of Lodève, above Pégairolles,


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Rh science, not merely in proportion to the arithmetical number of cultivated minds now combined in the pursuit of truth, but in a proportion tending to accelerate that important effect with a far greater rapidity. Nor ought we here to overlook the influence of the foregoing causes, in encouraging among authors the practice of addressing the multitude in their own vernacular tongues. The zeal of the Reformers first gave birth to this invaluable innovation; and imposed on their adversaries the necessity of employing, in their own defence, the same weapons. From that moment the prejudice began to vanish which had so long confounded knowledge with erudition; and a revolution commenced in the republic of letters, analogous to what the invention of gunpowder produced in the art of war. "All the splendid distinctions of mankind," as the Champion and Flower of Chivalry indignantly exclaimed, "were thereby thrown down; and the naked shepherd levelled with the knight clad in steel." To all these considerations may be added the gradual effects of time and experience in correcting the errors and prejudices which had misled philosophers during so long a succession of ages. To this cause, chiefly, must be ascribed the ardour with which we find various ingenious men, soon after the period in question, employed in prosecuting experimental inquiries; a species of study to which nothing analogous occurs in the history of ancient science. The boldest and most successful of this new school was the celebrated Paracelsus; born in 1493, and consequently only ten years younger than Luther. "It is impossible to doubt," says Le Clerc, in his History of Physic, "that he possessed an extensive knowledge of what


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34 is called the Materia Medica, and that he had employed much time in working on the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral substances of which it is composed. He seems, besides, to have tried an immense number of experiments in chemistry: but he has this great defect, that he studiously conceals or disguises the results of his long experience." The same author quotes from Paracelsus a remarkable expression, in which he calls the philosophy of Aristotle a wooden foundation. "He ought to have attempted," continues Le Clerc, "to have laid a better; but if he has not done it, he has at least, by discovering its weakness, invited his successors to look out for a firmer basis."

Lord Bacon himself, while he censures the moral frailties of Paracelsus, and the blind empiricism of his followers, indirectly acknowledges the extent of his experimental information: "The ancient sophists may be said to have hid, but Paracelsus extinguished the light of nature. The sophists were only deserters of experience, but Paracelsus has betrayed it. At the same time, he is so far from understanding the right method of conducting experiments, or of recording their results, that he has added to the trouble and tediousness of experimenting. By wandering through the wilds of experience, his disciples sometimes stumble upon useful discoveries, not by reason, but by accident; whence rashly proceeding to form theories, they carry the smoke and tarnish of their art along with them, and, like childish operators at the furnace, attempt to raise a structure of philosophy with a few experiments of distillation."

Two other circumstances, of a nature widely different from those hitherto enumerated, although, probably, in no small degree to be accounted for on the same principles, seconded, with an incalculable accession of power, the sudden impulse which the human mind had just received. The same century which the invention of printing and the revival of letters have made for ever memorable, was also illustrated by the discovery of the New World and of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope;—events which may be justly regarded as fixing a new


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Rh now only be traced on foot. The sparkling stream slides over contorted slate rocks, and trout dart through the pools. The hillsides are covered with pale grey flowered heath and the stunted kermes-oak with its glistening leaves. This, the Quercus coccifera, never grows higher than five feet, the garus it is that gives its name to the garigues, the desolate regions of limestone on which nothing else will grow. On its leaves feeds the kermes insect, round as a ball, and formerly supposed to be the fruit growing out of the rib of the leaf as does the berry of the butchers' broom. It produces a red dye, less brilliant than cochineal, and some of the Oriental reds are produced from it. The dye of the kermes is more permanent than cochineal. Suddenly on our eyes bursts Mourèze, one of the most fantastic groups of rock, castle, church, and village to be seen anywhere. We are disposed to regard the pictures by Gustave Doré of rock scenery interspersed with ruined towers as in his series, Le Juif errant, to be the creations of a fevered dream. But they are not so. He must have lived or travelled among the dolomitic formations of Languedoc, and thence drawn his inspiration.

The approach to Mourèze by the old carriage road is different; it is through red sandstone, soft and friable, and torn by streams into gullies. One would suppose that Mourèze had been founded originally by refugees from a world devastated by wars. It is concealed from view on all sides. It is Nature's hiding-place for persecuted men. At its back start up sheer cliffs of limestone, pink and yellow and grey, rising from 1,300 to 1,600 feet. Dolomitic limestone is composed of carbonate of lime and carbonate of magnesia, and the texture is mostly crystalline and granulated.


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286 in private hands. It had failed to be a success financially in 1703, and was disposed of to M. Castamé d'Aurac, who built the church. A century later, in 1803, it became the property of the family of Maistre, and it has remained in the same hands ever since.

It now turns out exclusively cloth for the army and uniforms for colleges and railway officials. Long stretches of dark blue and crimson cloth are seen in the meadows outside the walls, destined to be cut into the jackets and breeches of the military. Villeneuvette has retained much of its curious patriarchal organisation. There is no village outside the embattled walls; of the ninety-eight cottages all are given rent free to the artisans, and nothing more is exacted of them save respect for rules of decency and cleanliness. Here no slops may be thrown out of the windows, nor may birds' nests be molested. These restrictions have been indignantly protested against by the Radicals, who charge the organisation of the little community with being bound down by the chains of feudalism. Where is liberty if a householder may not throw his slops down on the head of any one passing in the street? Where is equality if the urchins of Clermont may rob robins' nests and not those of Villeneuvette? Where is fraternity if the artisans may not get fuddled together and roar and riot in drunken bands?

The road ascends the valley of the Dourbie,but to reach Mourèze it makes a circuit round the conical mountain, Le Puy de Bissou, on the summit of which is a chapel where once lived a hermit, but to which no pilgrimages are now made. A bridge has been thrown over the river, and a new road has been begun which will give speedier access by carriage to Mourèze, but which can


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Rh shrine is at the entrance to the beautiful basin of Villeneuvette, rich with cork trees, micocouliers (Celtis Australis), mulberries, chestnuts, tall ancient cypresses, pines, caper bushes, and the kermes-oak.

Here in the bottom, by the little river, is the industrial settlement of Villeneuvette. An avenue of planes leads to a wall, with a gateway in it, over which is the inscription, Honor to work" Up to 1848 it bore the title "royal factory" This is the last existing example of the factories established by Colbert in 1666 for the weaving of cloth for the Levant trade, and for each piece of cloth woven was received a bonus of ten francs. It was found that the trade in the Levant of French cloth was failing owing to English competition. Colbert founded this among other colonies of workmen to ensure that the cloth exported was of good quality, and agents in Constantinople and in Pondicherry received and sold it. In order to protect the establishment during the religious wars that desolated the Cevennes, the settlement was surrounded by a rampart, crenelated and flanked by redoubts. Within are the factory, a church, and the houses of the artisans, arranged on a formal plan. The colony had its own municipal government, and elected its own mayor. Every night the drawbridge was raised and the gate fastened.

Villeneuvette owns a considerable territory around it, and the land is parcelled out among the workmen engaged in the factory. Each family has its garden,its vineyard, and its plantation of mulberries, so that when work is slack in the factory there is plenty of occupation for the hands in the fields.

For more than two centuries Villeneuvette has been


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98 people were with me, old friends who had known her well and who wanted to look at her and to look at me too and see for themselves how I was bearing up. God, it was barbaric! The casket stood between the north windows, on the opposite side of the room from the piano. Standing with my back to the piano, standing between my friends looking down into her pale wasted face, I could hear her playing there behind me. But nobody else heard. Nobody else heard! I watched their faces, and I know. To them, the piano was silent. Yet I heard it playing, three or four times that day! God! God! God! I know that once I almost fainted when I heard it; Kenny Coates had to grasp my arms and hold me up until I came out of it. He helped me upstairs and gave me brandy and made me lie down for awhile. I was afraid to ask him if he'd heard the music, because I knew he hadn't. I began to wonder if I wasn't going crazy.

"'And the next day, and the day of the funeral—it was the same. Music that only I heard—Alicia's music—coming from the damnable piano downstairs. I didn't sleep three total hours from the moment she died until they buried her. I was trying to think, trying to fathom out the thing, to keep from going wholly mad. I knew that it was a sort of short circuit in my own brain that was causing the trouble; I kept telling myself over and over that the sounds didn't really exist, or other persons would have heard them. But I knew too that if I didn't conquer the—the sickness—sooner or later I'd go stark raving mad. Part of my brain was sick already; I had to keep the sickness from becoming any worse.

'I have will power, plenty of it. But I couldn't overcome this thing. I even forced myself to sit in the living room by the piano, hour after hour, waiting to hear the music, waiting to see if the piano keys would also appear to move. I wanted to find out if my sickness extended as far as hallucination—included my vision as well as my hearing. But whenever I watched the piano, it wouldn't play. It only played when my back was turned—and always when I was in the presence of other people, never when I was alone. It was like a devil in my brain, trying to make me—act ridiculous, strange, mad, in front of my servants and friends.

day of the funeral was the worst. Right in the middle of the prayer the music began—Dancing in the Wind, again. It kept up all the way through the prayer, until the prayer was finished and the quartette began to sing; I had to bite my lips to keep from screaming. But I have a strong will—I conquered that time. Yet some day I won't—and I'm afraid that then they'll find out my secret and take me away and lock me up as a madman.

"'After she was—buried, I came back to the house and shut myself in my room. All that night I stayed awake, waiting to hear that music. But there was no music then, not a note. It was just as though my sickness had gone with the people who for three days had filled my house. But I knew that perhaps it was just waiting another—opportunity....

"'The next afternoon Kenny Coates dropped in. He's my attorney, and one of my best friends; I couldn't refuse to see him. I met him in the library, across the hall from the living room.

"'Just as soon as we started talking it began again. As always, it seemed to come from the big grand in the living room, and I could hear it plainly, though the two intervening doors were closed. Cutting right into what Kenny was saying, blotting out his words, blotting out all my senses except my hearing, blotting out everything except itself.

"'I don't know how I looked then, or how I acted, but my reaction must have been pretty ghastly, for the next thing I


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Rh remember was Kenny handing me a drink with his face as white as a sheet and saying over and over, "Good God. Harry—you look shot to pieces! For a minute there I thought you were going to fold up. I tell you, you've got to snap out of it, or it won't be long before you follow Alicia. Get away, take a cruise, go to Canada, do anything to try and shake off this nervous condition that's got hold of you. Otherwise—"

"'I guess I must have been still in a fog for I remember that I asked him, "But the music, Harry! Didn't you hear—the music?"

"'He shook his head. "Music? What music?"

"'That clinched it. I knew then that I had to get away. So I did. I turned my business over to a friend—I guess he'd been half anticipating that I'd do just that—and went to Canada, to a little place where I've been going every fall for years to hunt.

"'I stayed there for three weeks. I was really beginning to feel better; since leaving the city I hadn't once heard that fiendish piano playing. Then, one Saturday night, Pierre Chouinard—he owns the lodge where I was stopping—asked me if I didn't want to go to a barn dance at the village—and some devil in me made me say yes.

"'When we entered that hall the first thing I noticed was that there was a piano. An old worn-out upright on a makeshift bandstand. The sight of it gave me a queasy feeling for a minute, but the feeling passed off; there was too much noise and merriment and gaiety going on. The orchestra was a couple of fiddlers, a pianist and a drummer. They weren't bad; they played round and square dances mostly, with every once in awhile a waltz, and everybody danced, old and young alike.

"'At ten o'clock the orchestra took its intermission, and we all lined up in a row for refreshments—ice cream and cake. I was just reaching out my hand for mine—Pierre was standing directly behind me—when the music started.

"'It came from that old rattletrap on the bandstand. The piece was Dancing in the Wind, and it was Alicia playing. No matter how tinny the music was, no matter how distorted by that God-awful out-of-tune instrument with its loose strings and its dead notes, nothing could disguise that. It was Alicia playing, all right, playing that wreck of a piano to me alone. I looked at the bandstand, and there wasn't anybody there. Not even the orchestra; they had all gone off the stand somewhere to smoke and eat their ice cream. Through that hellish music I heard my dish smash on the floor at my feet, and that's the last thing I remembered, then.

"'I woke up in my bunk in Pierre's cabin, with a raging fever. Pierre wasn't in the room, and I lay there for awhile thinking and trembling. Funny thing, but my thoughts were clear as crystal. I could recollect everything that had happened since I'd left my own house back in the city, and it occurred to me all at once that I had never actually been within hearing distance of a piano in all that time—until the night of the barn dance. I had gone from my house to my train, and from that train to another train, and then I had ridden in an automobile, and then in a wagon, and, of course, in Pierre's lodge there was no piano. I tried to figure it out, figure out what craziness was in me that made me seem to hear Alicia playing, sooner or later, whenever I came near a piano. I remembered clearly that that old rattletrap had seemed to sound exactly like itself, with all its mechanical imperfections and poor tuning, not at all like our big grand. Then I began to wonder if my own couldn't conceivably have twisted its own conception of Alicia's playing to conform to the limitation of this tinny old instrument. The


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284 Montfort, and might have forced this commander of the soldiers of the Papacy to deal less cruelly with the seigneurs of Languedoc, whom he robbed of their domains with impunity.

On the Place under trees is a monument, surmounted by a bust of Peyrolles, a potter of Clermont, who composed verses in the Languedoc dialect. He became jealous of the fame acquired by Jasmin, the hairdresser of Agen, the great vernacular poet, and sent him a challenge. "I will go to Montpellier any day and hour you choose to name. Let four men of literary notoriety give us three themes on which to compose poems in twenty-four hours; and let us be shut up in one room, with no admission of any one to us or of anything but our food—and see who in the time will turn out most poetry." Jasmin replied that he declined the contest. For his part, he could not produce verses as fast as Peyrolles could pots; his powers did not reach further than the composition of two or three verses in a day.

A delightful walk or drive is to Mourèze, up the valley of the Dourbie. On the col crossed by the road leading into this valley is the quaint chapel of N. D. du Peyrou. It is pointed, with an immense porch composed of two flying buttresses sustaining a roof. A chapel at the west end is out of line with the axis of the principal building. The nave was rebuilt or altered at the Renaissance. In the choir on one side are oval frames containing representations of girls who have made their first communion, in white paper cut out with scissors, and on the other side similar frames contain nuptial crowns. A largely attended pilgrimage visits this chapel on Monday in Easter week. This


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Rh machicolations, so that it could be used as a fortress, and melted lead or boiling pitch could be thrown down on besiegers. Narrow, steep, and dirty streets climb the hillside to the castle, now enclosed within the walls of a convent; little remains, however, but a keep of this once sumptuous seigneural residence of the barons of Clermont Formerly it consisted of a semicircular ring of wall defended at intervals by seven round towers, and with an eighth on the side of the chord of the arc. The view from the height extends over the plain watered by the Hérault and the Lergue, that begins at the feet of the Lodève Mountains and extends to the low range of the Taillades de Gignac. From thirty to forty towns, villages, and hamlets dot this plain.

In 1209 Aimar Guilhem, seigneur of Clermont, was the ally of the unfortunate Raymond, Count of Toulouse, against whom Innocent III. hurled the thunders of excommunication because he would not butcher and burn his subjects, who had embraced the Albigensian heresy; and Aimar was accordingly involved in his sentence. Innocent called together the riff-raff of Europe to join in a crusade against Raymond, promising life eternal and absolution from all sins to those who would join in an indiscriminate slaughter of the Albigenses, and placed Simon de Montfort at the head of this horde of the Children of God, as they called themselves, who swept over the land committing indescribable horrors. After the massacre of the inhabitants of Béziers by the crusaders, Aimar retired to his castle and awaited events. His conduct may have been prudent, as he saved the town from sack and slaughter, but it was unworthy of him; as had he roused the country of Lodève, he would have menaced the rear of Simon de


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title: Author:Frank Edward Brightman


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N admirable centre for several expeditions of no little interest is Clermont l'Hérault, where is a good hotel.

Clermont, though called l'Hérault, is not actually on the river of that name, though near it. The town is built at the base and up the sides of a steep hill crowned by a ruined castle.

The church is one of the very few in the department with side aisles to the nave. Indeed, the form affected throughout southern Languedoc is a vast nave without pillars, and chapels between the buttresses. This church was begun in 1275 and ended in 1313. It has a seven-sided apse. Over the west window is a gallery with


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Author:George John Shaw-Lefevre

Works

 * Agrarian Tenures

title: Author:George John Shaw-Lefevre


text:
Author:Thomas Wemyss Reid

Works

 * Briefs and Papers: Sketches of the Bar and the Press, with William Henry Cooke (1872)
 * Cabinet Portraits: Sketches of Statesmen (1872)
 * Charlotte Brontë: A Monograph (1877)
 * Politicians of To-day: A Series of Personal Sketches, 2 volumes (1880)
 * Gabrielle Stuart: The Flower of Greenan, 2 vols. (1882)
 * The Land of the Bey: Being Impressions of Tunis Under the French (1882)
 * Gladys Fane: A Story of Two Lives, 2 vols. (1884)
 * Mauleverer's Millions: A Yorkshire Romance (1886)
 * Life of the Right Honourable William Edward Forster (1888) 2 vols.
 * The Life, Letters, and Friendships of Richard Monckton Milnes, First Lord Houghton, 2 vols.
 * Memoirs and Correspondence of Lyon Playfair, First Lord Playfair of St. Andrews, P.C., G.C.B., LL.D., F.R.S., &c. (1899)
 * Memoirs of Sir Wemyss Reid, 1842-1885, edited by Stuart J. Reid (1905)
 * Memoirs of Sir Wemyss Reid, 1842-1885, edited by Stuart J. Reid (1905)

title: Author:Thomas Wemyss Reid


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Rh though a man can dispose lightly of the fruits of the earth that he has tilled, of the tree he has planted, it is not without a pang that the shepherd can separate himself from the beast he has nourished. Between the pastor and his flock do there not exist, moreover, mutual sentiments of affection, even of love, that defy all psychology?"

But the market is not one of cattle and corn only, it is of human beings as well, for hither come the shepherds to hire boys to attend during the year on the sheep and herds of swine. These lads are locally called , and the token that one has been engaged is that the shepherd buys the boy a pair of new out of his own money, a sort of investiture in the pastoral office. These lads and the shepherds lead a lonely life in the mountains. The boys are not unkindly treated, for the Cevenol, if rough and silent, has a gentle and kindly heart. But what a life for a growing boy in wild nature, among mountains and shrubs, birds of all kinds, and creeping things innumerable, and at night with the stars shining above his head with a sharpness and intensity as though they stabbed him to the heart, but left an exquisite pain behind. He learns to know the signs of the times, the winds, the voices of nature, to distinguish one bird's note from another, and to ascertain the virtues of the aromatic herbs on the limestone causse. The life may be hard, but it is healthy both to body and mind and soul.


text: Author:John Hardy Raven

title: Author:John Hardy Raven


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280 S. Gervais is a picturesque little town situated at the junction of the Casselouvres and the Mare, that takes its rise in the Signal de l'Espinouse, 3,380 feet. Its church has the peculiarity of the spire being a grove of trees and a bed of wallflowers that have rooted themselves in the stonework and been allowed to grow there unmolested. The town, notwithstanding that it preserves many relics of the Middle Ages and a general aspect that is venerable, is but modern compared with the older town, now abandoned, that was built on a jagged rock, its ruins mingling with the rock and scarce distinguishable from it. The more modern town is planted on a hillock standing by itself; the streets are narrow, scrambling up the side of the hill, and the houses are dingy, dirty, and dilapidated. The still more modern town lies below the hill. There is an intermittent spring in the side of the Hotel Soulié. At Saint Gervais at fair time may be noted the contrast that exists between the inhabitant of the sun-baked, semi-tropical lower land, rich in oil, honey, and wine, and the mountaineer who descends there to sell his cattle. Those who live in the sheltered valleys are clothed in stout broadcloth and serge, or bottle-green velvet. They arrive at a fair or market, noisy, sprightly, their mules laden with corn and fruit. On the other hand, the inhabitant of the heights of the Espinouse or Larzac is grave, reserved, uncommunicative, clothed in a garment of coarse cloth called grisaoud, followed by interminable flocks of sheep, goats, and oxen.

At Bédarieux—

"They trade, they chaffer over almonds, olives, honey, cocoons, wheat, the produce of a sunny nature; at Saint Gervais is a cattle market, and is of a graver character, for


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Crile, George Washington

CRILE, GEORGE WASHINGTON (1864-      ), American surgeon, was born at Chili, O., Nov. 11 1864. After graduating from Ohio Northern University (1884), he studied medicine at Wooster University (M.D. 1887) and later at Vienna, London and Paris. He taught at Wooster from 1889 to 1900. He was professor of Clinical Medicine at Western Reserve University from 1900 to 1911, and was then made professor of Surgery. During the Spanish-American War he was made a member of the Medical Reserve Corps and served in Porto Rico (1898). He was made an hon. F.R.C.S. (London) in 1913. After America entered the World War he became major in the medical O.T.C., and professional director (1917-8). He served with the B.E.F. in France and was senior consultant in surgical research (1918-9). He was made lieutenant-colonel in June 1918 and colonel later in the year. He made important contributions to the study of blood pressure and of shock in operations. Realizing that any strong emotion, such as fear before operation, produced shock, he attempted to allay dread by psychic suggestion, also endeavouring to prevent the subjective shock which affects the patient, even when under general anaesthesia, by first anaesthetizing the operative region with cocaine for several days, if necessary, before operating. Thus nerve communication between the affected part and the brain was already obstructed when the general anaesthetic was administered (see Anoci- Association, 1914, with Dr. Wm. E. Lower). For his work in shockless surgery he received a gold medal from the National Institute of Social Sciences in 1914.


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HE number of readers of the novels of Ferdinand Fabre in England is but few, I fear; but those few recognise in him one of the most graceful and delightful of writers. His novels may be divided into two categories: those that deal with his reminiscences of early life in the Cevennes about Bédarieux, and those in which he combats the intrigues of the Jesuits, "they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins"; or who meddle with and thwart the good work of the simple country and town curés, acting as spies for Rome on the bishops and the parochial clergy.

To the first class belong—I mention only the best—Les Courbezon, Julien Savignac, Mon Oncle Célestin, Barnabé, Monsieur Jean, and Xavière. To the latter a series—La Paroisse du Jugement Dernier, Le Calvaire de Mme. Fuster, Le Couvent de la Falosque Bergonnier,


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100 thing seemed not impossible. If my mind could make me imagine that I heard Alicia playing, it could certainly also make me imagine that I heard her playing various pianos, especially after I had had a good chance to hear each of those instruments. And I had been listening to that decrepit old upright all evening. Certainly no supernatural influence was at work. It was all in my own mind. I remembered a story I had read somewhere about a man who had imagined that a monkey was following him about. The story ended, I believe, with the man slitting his own throat. I made up my mind then and there to get back to the city and consult a psychiatrist—a good one!

HREE days later I was well enough to travel, so I returned to the city. I didn't go to my own home, but registered at an hotel instead. I was afraid to go back to my own house, full as it was of memories of Alicia—and with that accursed grand piano waiting for me in the downstairs living room. The only way I could have gone home would have been to first have that piano moved out of the house—and I was afraid to do that. Afraid of what people would think and say. The servants had heard me talking queerly, so had Kenny Coates. A hotel was the only solution.

When I registered I asked for a quiet room, isolated from the ballroom and dining room; I told the desk clerk frankly that I couldn't bear the sound of music, especially piano music. The room he gave me was all right: there wasn't a piano within a half-dozen floors of me. But I couldn't stay in that room indefinitely. The first time I came downstairs, as I got off the elevator in the lobby, I heard that devilish piano playing again, coming from the dining room. God! It followed me all the way across the lobby, growing fainter and fainter as I walked away from it; I could hear it up until the instant that I passed through the revolving doors to the street. Then I couldn't hear it anymore.

I went directly to consult a psychiatrist, told him the same story I've told you. He seemed interested as hell, told me that my malady was extremely rare, used a lot of big words and ended up by advising me that my only salvation lay in fighting the thing—

Well, I did just that. I did exactly as this man advised. I didn't go home, because of my—memories of Alicia; but for three months I lived in that accursed hotel, went to my office every day and transacted my business as well as I was able, ate my morning and evening meals in that hotel dining room every day—and listened to that ghastly music pounding in my brain every mortal day in the week! Always in the hotel dining room I heard it—not when the orchestra was playing, of course; only when they were silent between pieces. But I heard it other places, too; through an open window as I was hurrying to catch a subway, a fragment of Dancing in the Wind hitting me in the face from the swinging doors of a saloon as I walked past, even from the orchestra pit of a theatre—God!—anywhere and anytime! I haven't gone inside a theatre since, that had a piano; I haven't dared

For three months I fought it. But I couldn't beat it; I can't beat it. Two weeks ago I finally gave up the fight. I moved out of the hotel, took the room here. For one reason only, because there isn't a piano in the place. When I'm inside these walls I have peace—of a sort; it's only when I go out that I hear the music—and I'm careful about where I go, what streets and even which side of the street I walk on, so that I'm seldom exposed. Maybe the disease will go away of itself in time; I don't know. I only know that I haven't the strength or the courage to fight it any longer. That way would lead to total


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Croce, Benedetto

CROCE, BENEDETTO (1866-      ), Italian philosopher and statesman, was born at Pescasseroli, in the province of Aquila, Italy, Feb. 25 1866. He came of a family that counted among its members several jurists and magistrates. Born in the part of Italy formerly known as Greater Greece, it may be said of him without paradox that the development of his mind and character represented a modern incarnation of all that was subtle and profound in the Hellenic genius, linked with the best and wisest tradition of Roman civilization and of the Christianity that came to take its place. From the remote township of his birth, however, the branch of the family to which the philosopher belonged transferred itself soon afterwards to Naples, so that, like his predecessor Vico, Benedetto Croce may be correctly described as a Neapolitan. He studied at Rome and in Naples, afterwards adopting the life of an independent student and occupying himself especially with literary and with Neapolitan history. Much of his work that bears upon that period of youth is to be found in the volumes: La Rivoluzione Napoletana del 1799; Saggi sulla letteratura italiana del Seicento; La Spagna nella vita italiana durante la rinascenza; Storie e leggende napoletane. But Croce did not altogether neglect philosophy at this period. Towards his thirtieth year the study of philosophy and of history together occupied most of his attention. His principal works are contained in four volumes comprised under the general title Filosofia dello spirito: (1) Estetica come scienza dell' espressione e linguistica generale, (2) Logica come scienza del concetto puro, (3) Filosofia della practica: economia ed etica and (4) Teoria e storia della storiografia. These were published between 1902 and 1913. With these may be mentioned certain volumes of essays, among which are to be noted those upon Historical Materialism and Marxist Economy (1896-1900); upon Hegel (1905); upon Vico (1910); and the New Essays upon Aesthetic (1920), which complete and carry further the first Aesthetic.

Croce only took part in the administrative work of Naples upon rare occasions and in moments of crisis. During the World War he developed a polemic directed against democratic-humanitarian conceptions and particularly those of President

Wilson, whose influence on the peace settlement was regarded by him as injurious to Italy. His writings on this subject have been collected in a volume entitled Pagine sulla guerra (Naples, 1919). In June 1920, when the Giolitti Government was formed with the programme of a reconstitution of the Italian State and of radical reforms, Croce (who had bgen a senator of the Kingdom of Italy since 1920) was asked to accept the office of Minister of Public Instruction. He agreed conditionally upon his programme being carried out. This programme was based upon the idea of a liberal reconstruction: he aimed at the reduction and simplification of the State schools combined with a more rigorous method of teaching, and at affording all facilities to, and indeed inviting the competition of, private instruction, fearless of the confessional school, which in his view would be compelled to modernize itself in order to maintain competition with the State school. In 1921 he retired from office on the resignation of the Giolitti Ministry.

(D. A.; G. C.)


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HE Aigoual is the hinge or knot of the inner range of the Cevennes, as Mézenc is that of the outer range. On one of its summits sits a meteorological observatory astride on the ridge of the watershed. Indeed, so exactly is it so placed, that the rain pouring off the roof on one side reaches the Mediterranean, whereas that off the other side goes to replenish the Atlantic.

The station is admirably calculated for the purpose, as thence can be watched the atmospheric currents as they sweep from the north or from the south, and the battle of the winds may be contemplated when the northern blast rolls back the moisture-laden currents from the south. This battle of the winds is an interesting phenomenon. Occasionally it happens that a veil of mist rising from the Mediterranean is swept forward, obscuring the landscape as it gathers density, and is propelled by the south-east wind till it reaches the


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HEN the line leaves Ganges it leaves the white limestone crags and plunges among broken schist mountains, and the curious rugged mass of Esparon stands up before one as a fortress against the blue sky. The valley of the Arre is entered, and presently we arrive at Le Vigan in a pleasant site, a green smiling valley enclosed within a triple range, first of hills terraced up, step above step, with walls to retain the meagre deposit of soil laboriously cultivated. The second stage is one of mountains dense with chestnuts. Above this rises the rugged range of granite that forms the watershed between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Among the higher rocks sprout a few twisted and stunted beech, the relics of the ancient forests that formerly sheltered the bear, the wild boar, and the wolf. These forests have disappeared, partly through fires kindled to clear away the lurking-places of the Camisards, partly to destroy the shelter of the wolves,


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title: Template:EB1922 article link


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Diesel, Rudolf

DIESEL, RUDOLF (1857–1913), German engineer, was the inventor of the Diesel oil-engine (see ), the possibilities of which, however, had hardly been realized till after his untimely death. He fell overboard the Antwerp-Harwich mail steamer on Sept. 30 1913, and was drowned.


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ROM Alais the train that runs on to Nïmes drops one at Quissac, whence diverges a branch to Le Vigan and Tournemire on the main line from Paris to Bézier, Narbonne, and Barcelona. Quissac lies on the Vidourle, that flows a thin stream in a vast bed of pebbles, on which the washerwomen spread their linen. The esplanade by the river is planted, and on it is the Protestant temple, a feeble imitation of the Maison Carée at Nïmes. The parish church is in another part of the town, and is an astounding bit of patchwork after wreckage by the Camisards. The west front is an architectural curiosity. In the little place in front of it is a plane tree, serving, I presume, as a gallows for all the vermin caught in the place and neighbourhood. When I was there, rats, mice, weasels depended from the branches, and a sulky doll that would not eat had been hoisted up as well, and was dangling by its neck, whilst the little executioner stood below haranguing it.


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Additional options
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Page:Avon Fantasy Reader 10.djvu/84

 skipper. He says they have waived your physical defects and will give you all the help you need. But they've got to have you."

The captain shook his head.

"He's wrong, I say. There is no such a ship. There was one once, but she rotted her life away in the back channel. They sold her finally to a wrecking company and broke her up for scrap. All I have to say to that is whoever bought that scrap had better have a care as to how they use it. For she was a vindictive wench. The Sadie Saxon bore grudges and would have her way no matter what you did....

"Yes, sir," said the messenger, eagerly, "that's the ship—the Sadie Saxon—a cargo type vessel! They've put her back in commission but she won't leave port. They need ships now that America is at war. Every ship. That's why they need you. The commander says please come. If you want, he'll send an ambulance."

"The Sadie Saxon," whispered the old captain, suddenly rapt with nostalgia for World War days when he and she were in their prime.

Then aloud, "He needn't bother about the ambulance. I can get there under my own power, son. Give me a hand so I can get up and go dress. The old uniform still fits, thank God."

Captain Tolliver's senility seemed to drop from him as a cloak the moment the well-worn blue garments were back on his lean frame. He looked a little ruefully at the tarnished gold lace on the sleeves and at the cap device the years had tinted with green mold, but nevertheless he brushed the uniform carefully, squared his shoulders, and marched down the steps without availing himself of the sailor's proffered arm.

"So they didn't break her up after all?" said the captain, as they waited at the curb in the hope a cruising taxi would come by. "How come? I know she was sold."

"Too expensive. She was part of a contract for scrap to be sent to the Japs some months ago, but they only worked three days on her. She killed nine men the first day they brought their cutting torches aboard, all of them in different ways. One of her booms crashed down the second day and smashed five others. On the third day seven suffocated in a hold, and two slipped and fell overboard. The men said she was jinxed and threatened to call a strike. So they put a tug alongside and hauled her back to her old berth."

Captain Tolliver chuckled.

"For the Japs, huh? She knew it even before they attacked Pearl Harbor, but I might have told 'em. But what's this about her refusing to leave port. Doesn't that sound a little silly to you?"

His faded old eyes twinkled when he asked the question. It was one that did sound silly, when a person came to think about it. Yet he knew it was not silly and one an experienced sailorman would answer as seriously as he could.

"There's no other word for it, sir," replied the bluejacket, soberly. "She

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Observations on Man (6th edition)/Contents

INTRODUCTION.


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'''MANY OTHERS IN PREPARATION—ON SALE AT YOUR NEWSDEALER OR DIRECT FROM AVON BOOK SALES CORP. 119 W. 57th ST., N. Y. 19. ENCLOSE 25c PER TITLE PLUS 5c EACH FOR WRAPPING AND FORWARDING.'''

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Page:Observations on Man 1834.djvu/15

 CONTENTS.

THE FIRST PART.

INTRODUCTION.

PAGE

Definitions 1

Distribution of the First Part 3

CHAP. I.

THE GENERAL LAWS, ACCORDING TO WHICH THE SENSATIONS AND MOTIONS ARE PERFORMED, AND OUR IDEAS GENERATED.

The doctrines of vibrations and association proposed 4

Their mutual connexion ib.

Sect. I.

The Doctrine of Vibrations, and its Use for explaining the Sensations.

General evidences for the dependence of sensation and motion on the brain 5

General evidences for the dependence of ideas on the brain 6

Instances shewing that sensations remain in the mind for a short time after the sensible objects are removed ib.

The infinitesimal medullary particles vibrate during sensation 8

The aether ib.

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 The uniformity, continuity, softness, and active powers of the medullary substance 10

The manner in which vibrations are communicated to the whole medullary substance 13

Presumptions in favour of the doctrine of vibrations 16

Corollaries from this doctrine 20

Materiality of the soul no consequence of it 21

Phenomena of sensible pleasure and pain agreeable to the doctrine of vibrations 22

Phenomena of sleep agreeable to the doctrines of vibrations 28

Sect. II.

Ideas, their Generation and Associations, and the Agreement of the Doctrine of Vibrations with the Phenomena of Ideas.

The generation of the ideas of sensation 36

The repetition of sensory vibrations generates a disposition to corresponding vibratiuncles or miniature vibrations 37

The power of raising ideas by association in the simplest case 41

The power of raising miniature vibrations by association in the simplest case 43

The formation of complex ideas by association 46

The formation of complex miniature vibrations by association 50

The complex vibrations last-mentioned may be so exalted, in some cases, as to be no longer miniatures, but equal in strength to sensory vibrations 51

Sect. III.

Muscular Motion, and its two Kinds, automatic and voluntary; and the Use of the Doctrines of Vibrations and Association, for explaining these respectively.

It is probable, that muscular motion is performed by the same general means as sensation, and the perception of ideas 54

Phaenomena of muscular contraction agreeable to the doctrine of vibrations 56

Propensity of the muscles to alternate contraction and relaxation agreeable to the doctrine of vibrations 57

The origin of motory vibrations 58

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