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 "My reason is quite simple," said Syme. "I attack him rashly because I am afraid of him."

They followed Syme up the dark stair in silence, and they all came out simultaneously into the broad sunlight of the morning and the broad sunlight of Sunday's smile.

"Delightful!" he said. "So pleased to see you all. What an exquisite day it is. Is the Czar dead?"

The Secretary, who happened to be foremost, drew himself together for a dignified outburst.

"No, sir," he said sternly "there has been no massacre. I bring you news of no such disgusting spectacles."

"Disgusting spectacles?" repeated the President, with a bright, inquiring smile. "You mean Dr. Bull's spectacles?"

The Secretary choked for a moment, and the President went on with a sort of smooth appeal—

"Of course, we all have our opinions and even our eyes, but really to call them disgusting before the man himself——"


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 Dr. Bull tore off his spectacles and broke them on the table.

"My spectacles are blackguardly," he said, "but I'm not. Look at my face."

"I dare say it's the sort of face that grows on one," said the President, "in fact, it grows on you; and who am I to quarrel with the wild fruits upon the Tree of Life? I dare say it will grow on me some day."

"We have no time for tomfoolery," said the Secretary, breaking in savagely. "We have come to know what all this means. Who are you? What are you? Why did you get us all here? Do you know who and what we are? Are you a half-witted man playing the conspirator, or are you a clever man playing the fool? Answer me, I tell you."

"Candidates," murmured Sunday, "are only required to answer eight out of the seventeen questions on the paper. As far as I can make out, you want me to tell you what I am, and what you are, and what this table is, and what this Council is, and what this world is for all I know. Well, I will go so far

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 as to rend the veil of one mystery. If you want to know what you are, you are a set of highly well-intentioned young jackasses."

"And you," said Syme, leaning forward, "what are you?"

"I? What am I?" roared the President, and he rose slowly to an incredible height, like some enormous wave about to arch above them and break. "You want to know what I am, do you? Bull, you are a man of science. Grub in the roots of those trees and find out the truth about them. Syme, you are a poet. Stare at those morning clouds. But I tell you this, that you will have found out the truth of the last tree and the top-most cloud before the truth about me. You will understand the sea, and I shall be still a riddle; you shall know what the stars are, and not know what I am. Since the beginning of the world all men have hunted me like a wolf—kings and sages, and poets and lawgivers, all the churches, and all the philosophies. But I have never been caught yet, and the skies will fall in the time I turn


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 to bay. I have given them a good run for their money, and I will now."

Before one of them could move, the monstrous man had swung himself like some huge ourang-outang over the balustrade of the balcony. Yet before he dropped he pulled himself up again as on a horizontal bar, and thrusting his great chin over the edge of the balcony, said solemnly—

"There's one thing I'll tell you though about who I am. I am the man in the dark room, who made you all policemen."

With that he fell from the balcony, bouncing on the stones below like a great ball of india-rubber, and went bounding off towards the corner of the Alhambra, where he hailed a hansom-cab and sprang inside it. The six detectives had been standing thunderstruck and livid in the light of his last assertion; but when he disappeared into the cab, Syme's practical senses returned to him, and leaping over the balcony so recklessly as almost to break his legs, he called another cab.

He and Bull sprang into the cab together, the Professor and the Inspector into another, while the


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 Secretary and the late Gogol scrambled into a third just in time to pursue the flying Syme, who was pursuing the flying President. Sunday led them a wild chase towards the north-west, his cabman, evidently under the influence of more than common inducements, urging the horse at breakneck speed. But Syme was in no mood for delicacies, and he stood up in his own cab shouting, "Stop thief!" until crowds ran along beside his cab, and policemen began to stop and ask questions. All this had its influence upon the President's cabman, who began to look dubious, and to slow down to a trot. He opened the trap to talk reasonably to his fare, and in so doing let the long whip droop over the front of the cab. Sunday leant forward, seized it, and jerked it violently out of the man's hand. Then standing up in front of the cab himself, he lashed the horse and roared aloud, so that they went down the streets like a flying storm. Through street after street and square after square went whirling this preposterous vehicle, in which the fare was urging the horse and the driver trying desperately to stop it. The other three cabs came


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 after it (if the phrase be permissible of a cab) like panting hounds. Shops and streets shot by like rattling arrows.

At the highest ecstasy of speed, Sunday turned round on the splashboard where he stood, and sticking his great grinning head out of the cab, with white hair whistling in the wind, he made a horrible face at his pursuers, like some colossal urchin. Then raising his right hand swiftly, he flung a ball of paper in Syme's face and vanished. Syme caught the thing while instinctively warding it off, and discovered that it consisted of two crumpled papers. One was addressed to himself, and the other to Dr. Bull, with a very long, and it is to be feared partly ironical, string of letters after his name. Dr. Bull's address was, at any rate, considerably longer than his communication, for the communication consisted entirely of the words:—

 * "What about Martin Tupper now?"

"What does the old maniac mean?" asked Bull, staring at the words. "What does yours say, Syme?"


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 Syme's message was, at any rate, longer, and ran as follows:—

"No one would regret anything in the nature of an interference by the Archdeacon more than I. I trust it will not come to that. But, for the last time, where are your goloshes? The thing is too bad, especially after what uncle said."

The President's cabman seemed to be regaining some control over his horse, and the pursuers gained a little as they swept round into the Edgware Road. And here there occurred what seemed to the allies a providential stoppage. Traffic of every kind was swerving to right or left or stopping, for down the long road was coming the unmistakable roar announcing the fire-engine, which in a few seconds went by like a brazen thunderbolt. But quick as it went by, Sunday had bounded out of his cab, sprung at the fire-engine, caught it, slung himself on to it, and was seen as he disappeared in the noisy distance talking to the astonished fireman with explanatory gestures.

"After him!" howled Syme. "He can't go astray now. There's no mistaking a fire-engine."


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 The three cabmen, who had been stunned for a moment, whipped up their horses and slightly decreased the distance between themselves and their disappearing prey. The President acknowledged this proximity by coming to the back of the car, bowing repeatedly, kissing his hand, and finally flinging a neatly-folded note into the bosom of Inspector Ratcliffe. When that gentleman opened it, not without impatience, he found it contained the words:—

"Fly at once. The truth about your trouser-stretchers is known.—."

The fire-engine had struck still farther to the north, into a region that they did not recognise; and as it ran by a line of high railings shadowed with trees, the six friends were startled, but somewhat relieved, to see the President leap from the fire-engine, though whether through another whim or the increasing protest of his entertainers they could not see. Before the three cabs, however, could reach up to the spot, he had gone up the high railings like a


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 huge grey cat, tossed himself over, and vanished in a darkness of leaves.

Syme with a furious gesture stopped his cab, jumped out, and sprang also to the escalade. When he had one leg over the fence and his friends were following, he turned a face on them which shone quite pale in the shadow.

"What place can this be?" he asked. "Can it be the old devil's house? I've heard he has a house in North London."

"All the better," said the Secretary grimly, planting a foot in a foothold, "we shall find him at home."

"No, but it isn't that," said Syme, knitting his brows. "I hear the most horrible noises, like devils laughing and sneezing and blowing their devilish noses!"

"His dogs barking, of course," said the Secretary.

"Why not say his black-beetles barking!" said Syme furiously, "snails barking! geraniums barking! Did you ever hear a dog bark like that?"


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 He held up his hand, and there came out of the thicket a long growling roar that seemed to get under the skin and freeze the flesh—a low thrilling roar that made a throbbing in the air all about them.

"The dogs of Sunday would be no ordinary dogs," said Gogol, and shuddered.

Syme had jumped down on the other side, but he still stood listening impatiently.

"Well, listen to that," he said, "is that a dog—anybody's dog?"

There broke upon their ear a hoarse screaming as of things protesting and clamouring in sudden pain; and then, far off like an echo, what sounded like a long nasal trumpet.

"Well, his house ought to be hell!" said the Secretary; "and if it is hell, I'm going in!" and he sprang over the tall railings almost with one swing.

The others followed. They broke through a tangle of plants and shrubs, and came out on an open path. Nothing was in sight, but Dr. Bull suddenly struck his hands together.

"Why, you asses," he cried, "it's the Zoo!"


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 As they were looking round wildly for any trace of their wild quarry, a keeper in uniform came running along the path with a man in plain clothes.

"Has it come this way?" gasped the keeper.

"Has what?" asked Syme.

"The elephant!" cried the keeper. "An elephant has gone mad and run away!"

"He has run away with an old gentleman," said the other stranger breathlessly, "a poor old gentleman with white hair!"

"What sort of old gentleman?" asked Syme, with great curiosity.

"A very large and fat old gentleman in light grey clothes," said the keeper eagerly.

"Well," said Syme, "if he's that particular kind of old gentleman, if you're quite sure that he's a large and fat old gentleman in grey clothes, you may take my word for it that the elephant has not run away with him. He has run away with the elephant. The elephant is not made by God that could run away with him if he did not consent to the elopement. And, by thunder, there he is!"


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 There was no doubt about it this time. Clean across the space of grass, about two hundred yards away, with a crowd screaming and scampering vainly at his heels, went a huge grey elephant at an awful stride, with his trunk thrown out as rigid as a ship's bowsprit, and trumpeting like the trumpet of doom. On the back of the bellowing and plunging animal sat President Sunday with all the placidity of a sultan, but goading the animal to a furious speed with some sharp object in his hand.

"Stop him!" screamed the populace. "He'll be out of the gate!"

"Stop a landslide!" said the keeper. "He is out of the gate!"

And even as he spoke, a final crash and roar of terror announced that the great grey elephant had broken out of the gates of the Zoological Gardens, and was careening down Albany Street like a new and swift sort of omnibus.

"Great Lord!" cried Bull, "I never knew an elephant could go so fast. Well, it must be hansom-cabs again if we are to keep him in sight."


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 As they raced along to the gate out of which the elephant had vanished, Syme felt a glaring panorama of the strange animals in the cages which they passed. Afterwards he thought it queer that he should have seen them so clearly. He remembered especially seeing pelicans, with their preposterous, pendant throats. He wondered why the pelican was the symbol of charity, except it was that it wanted a good deal of charity to admire a pelican. He remembered a hornbill, which was simply a huge yellow beak with a small bird tied on behind it. The whole gave him a sensation, the vividness of which he could not explain, that Nature was always making quite mysterious jokes. Sunday had told them that they would understand him when they had understood the stars. He wondered whether even the archangels understood the hornbill.

The six unhappy detectives flung themselves into cabs and followed the elephant sharing the terror which he spread through the long stretch of the streets. This time Sunday did not turn round, but offered them the solid stretch of his unconscious back,


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 which maddened them, if possible, more than his previous mockeries. Just before they came to Baker Street, however, he was seen to throw something far up into the air, as a boy does a ball meaning to catch it again. But at their rate of racing it fell far behind, just by the cab containing Gogol; and in faint hope of a clue or for some impulse unexplainable, he stopped his cab so as to pick it up. It was addressed to himself, and was quite a bulky parcel. On examination, however, its bulk was found to consist of thirty-three pieces of paper of no value wrapped one round the other. When the last covering was torn away it reduced itself to a small slip of paper, on which was written:—

 * "The word, I fancy, should be 'pink'."

The man once known as Gogol said nothing, but the movements of his hands and feet were like those of a man urging a horse to renewed efforts.

Through street after street, through district after district, went the prodigy of the flying elephant, calling crowds to every window, and driving the


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 traffic left and right. And still through all this insane publicity the three cabs toiled after it, until they came to be regarded as part of a procession, and perhaps the advertisement of a circus. They went at such a rate that distances were shortened beyond belief, and Syme saw the Albert Hall in Kensington when he thought that he was still in Paddington. The animal's pace was even more fast and free through the empty, aristocratic streets of South Kensington, and he finally headed towards that part of the sky-line where the enormous Wheel of Earl's Court stood up in the sky. The wheel grew larger and larger, till it filled heaven like the wheel of stars.

The beast outstripped the cabs. They lost him round several corners, and when they came to one of the gates of the Earl's Court Exhibition they found themselves finally blocked. In front of them was an enormous crowd; in the midst of it was an enormous elephant, heaving and shuddering as such shapeless creatures do. But the President had disappeared.


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 "Where has he gone to?" asked Syme, slipping to the ground.

"Gentleman rushed into the Exhibition, sir!" said an official in a dazed manner. Then he added in an injured voice: "Funny gentleman, sir. Asked me to hold his horse, and gave me this."

He held out with distaste a piece of folded paper, addressed: "To the Secretary of the Central Anarchist Council."

The Secretary, raging, rent it open, and found written inside it:—

 * "When the herring runs a mile,
 * Let the Secretary smile;
 * When the herring tries to fly,
 * Let the Secretary die.
 * Rustic Proverb."

"Why the eternal crikey," began the Secretary, "did you let the man in? Do people commonly come to your Exhibition riding on mad elephants? Do——"

"Look!" shouted Syme suddenly. "Look over there!"

"Look at what?" asked the Secretary savagely.


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 "Look at the captive balloon!" said Syme, and pointed in a frenzy.

"Why the blazes should I look at a captive balloon?' demanded the Secretary. "What is there queer about a captive balloon?"

"Nothing," said Syme, "except that it isn't captive!'

They all turned their eyes to where the balloon swung and swelled above the Exhibition on a string, like a child's balloon. A second afterwards the string came in two just under the car, and the balloon, broken loose, floated away with the freedom of a soap bubble.

"Ten thousand devils!" shrieked the Secretary. "He's got into it!" and he shook his fists at the sky.

The balloon, borne by some chance wind, came right above them, and they could see the great white head of the President peering over the side and looking benevolently down on them.

"God bless my soul!" said the Professor with the elderly manner that he could never disconnect from


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 his bleached beard and parchment face. "God bless my soul! I seemed to fancy that something fell on the top of my hat!"

He put up a trembling hand and took from that shelf a piece of twisted paper, which he opened absently only to find it inscribed with a true lover's knot and, the words:—

"Your beauty has not left me indifferent.—From ."

There was a short silence, and then Syme said, biting his beard—

"I'm not beaten yet. The blasted thing must come down somewhere. Let's follow it!"


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 CHAPTER XIV.

THE SIX PHILOSOPHERS.

green fields, and breaking through blooming hedges, toiled six draggled detectives, about five miles out of London. The optimist of the party had at first proposed that they should follow the balloon across South England in hansom-cabs. But he was ultimately convinced of the persistent refusal of the balloon to follow the roads, and the still more persistent refusal of the cabmen to follow the balloon. Consequently the tireless though exasperated travellers broke through black thickets and ploughed through ploughed fields till each was turned into a figure too outrageous to be mistaken for a tramp. Those green hills of Surrey saw the final collapse and tragedy of the admirable light grey suit in which Syme had set out from Saffron Park. His silk hat was broken over his nose by a swinging


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 bough, his coat-tails were torn to the shoulder by arresting thorns, the clay of England was splashed up to his collar; but he still carried his yellow beard forward with a silent and furious determination, and his eyes were still fixed on that floating ball of gas, which in the full flush of sunset seemed coloured like a sunset cloud.

"After all," he said, "it is very beautiful!"

"It is singularly and strangely beautiful!" said the Professor. "I wish the beastly gas-bag would burst!"

"No," said Dr. Bull, "I hope it won't. It might hurt the old boy."

"Hurt him!" said the vindictive Professor, "hurt him! Not as much as I'd hurt him if I could get up with him. Little Snowdrop!"

"I don't want him hurt, somehow," said Dr. Bull.

"What!" cried the Secretary bitterly. "Do you believe all that tale about his being our man in the dark room? Sunday would say he was anybody."

"I don't know whether I believe it or not," said


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 Dr. Bull. "But it isn't that that I mean. I can't wish old Sunday's balloon to burst because—"

"Well," said Syme impatiently, "because?"

"Well, because he's so jolly like a balloon himself," said Dr. Bull desperately. "I don't understand a word of all that idea of his being the same man who gave us all our blue cards. It seems to make everything nonsense. But I don't care who knows it, I always had a sympathy for old Sunday himself, wicked as he was. Just as if he was a great bouncing baby. How can I explain what my queer sympathy was? It didn't prevent my fighting him like hell! Shall I make it clear if I say that I liked him because he was so fat?"

"You will not," said the Secretary.

"I've got it now," cried Bull, "it was because he was so fat and so light. Just like a balloon. We always think of fat people as heavy, but he could have danced against a sylph. I see now what I mean. Moderate strength is shown in violence, supreme strength is shown in levity. It was like the old speculations—what would happen if an


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 elephant could leap up in the sky like a grasshopper?"

"Our elephant," said Syme, looking upwards, "has leapt into the sky like a grasshopper."

"And somehow," concluded Bull, "that's why I can't help liking old Sunday. No, it's not an admiration of force, or any silly thing like that. There is a kind of gaiety in the thing, as if he were bursting with some good news. Haven't you sometimes felt it on a spring day? You know Nature plays tricks, but somehow that day proves they are good-natured tricks. I never read the Bible myself, but that part they laugh at is literal truth, 'Why leap ye, ye high hills?' The hills do leap—at least, they try to. . . . Why do I like Sunday?. . . . how can I tell you?. . . . because he's such a Bounder."

There was a long silence, and then the Secretary said in a curious, strained voice—

"You do not know Sunday at all. Perhaps it is because you are better than I, and do not know hell. I was a fierce fellow, and a trifle morbid from the


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 first. The man who sits in darkness, and who chose us all, chose me because I had all the crazy look of a conspirator—because my smile went crooked, and my eyes were gloomy, even when I smiled. But there must have been something in me that answered to the nerves in all these anarchic men. For when I first saw Sunday he expressed to me, not your airy vitality, but something both gross and sad in the Nature of Things. I found him smoking in a twilight room, a room with brown blind down, infinitely more depressing than the genial darkness in which our master lives. He sat there on a bench, a huge heap of a man, dark and out of shape. He listened to all my words without speaking or even stirring. I poured out my most passionate appeals, and asked my most eloquent questions. Then, after a long silence, the Thing began to shake, and I thought it was shaken by some secret malady. It shook like a loathsome and living jelly. It reminded me of everything I had ever read about the base bodies that are the origin of life—the deep sea lumps and protoplasm. It seemed like the final


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 form of matter, the most shapeless and the most shameful. I could only tell myself, from its shudderings, that it was something at least that such a monster could be miserable. And then it broke upon me that the bestial mountain was shaking with a lonely laughter, and the laughter was at me. Do you ask me to forgive him that? It is no small thing to be laughed at by something at once lower and stronger than oneself."

"Surely you fellows are exaggerating wildly," cut in the clear voice of Inspector Ratcliffe. "President Sunday is a terrible fellow for one's intellect, but he is not such a Barnum's freak physically as you make out. He received me in an ordinary office, in a grey check coat, in broad daylight. He talked to me in an ordinary way. But I'll tell you what is a trifle creepy about Sunday. His room is neat, his clothes are neat, everything seems in order; but he's absent-minded. Sometimes his great bright eyes go quite blind. For hours he forgets that you are there. Now absent-mindedness is just a bit too awful in a bad man. We think of a


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 wicked man as vigilant. We can't think of a wicked man who is honestly and sincerely dreamy, because we daren't think of a wicked man alone with himself. An absentminded man means a good-natured man. It means a man who, if he happens to see you, will apologise. But how will you bear an absentminded man who, if he happens to see you, will kill you? That is what tries the nerves, abstraction combined with cruelty. Men have felt it sometimes when they went through wild forests, and felt that the animals there were at once innocent and pitiless. They might ignore or slay. How would you like to pass ten mortal hours in a parlour with an absent-minded tiger?"

"And what do you think of Sunday, Gogol?" asked Syme.

"I don't think of Sunday on principle," said Gogol simply, "any more than I stare at the sun at noonday."

"Well, that is a point of view," said Syme thoughtfully. "What do you say, Professor?"

The Professor was walking with bent head


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 and trailing stick, and he did not answer at all.

"Wake up, Professor!" said Syme genially. "Tell us what you think of Sunday."

The Professor spoke at last very slowly.

"I think something," he said, "that I cannot say clearly. Or, rather, I think something that I cannot even think clearly. But it is something like this. My early life, as you know, was a bit too large and loose. Well, when I saw Sunday's face I thought it was too large—everybody does, but I also thought it was too loose. The face was so big, that one couldn't focus it or make it a face at all. The eye was so far away from the nose, that it wasn't an eye. The mouth was so much by itself, that one had to think of it by itself. The whole thing is too hard to explain."

He paused for a little, still trailing his stick, and then went on—

"But put it this way. Walking up a road at night, I have seen a lamp and a lighted window and a cloud make together a most complete and


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 unmistakable face. If anyone in heaven has that face I shall know him again. Yet when I walked a little farther I found that there was no face, that the window was ten yards away, the lamp ten hundred yards, the cloud beyond the world. Well, Sunday's face escaped me; it ran away to right and left, as such chance pictures run away. And so his face has made me, somehow, doubt whether there are any faces. I don't know whether your face, Bull, is a face or a combination in perspective. Perhaps one black disc of your beastly glasses is quite close and another fifty miles away. Oh, the doubts of a materialist are not worth a dump. Sunday has taught me the last and the worst doubts, the doubts of a spiritualist. I am a Buddhist, I suppose; and Buddhism is not a creed, it is a doubt. My poor dear Bull, I do not believe that you really have a face. I have not faith enough to believe in matter."

Syme's eyes were still fixed upon the errant orb, which, reddened in the evening light, looked like some rosier and more innocent world.


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 "Have you noticed an odd thing," he said, "about all your descriptions? Each man of you finds Sunday quite different, yet each man of you can only find one thing to compare him to—the universe itself. Bull finds him like the earth in spring, Gogol like the sun at noonday. The Secretary is reminded of the shapeless protoplasm, and the Inspector of the carelessness of virgin forests. The Professor says he is like a changing landscape. This is queer, but it is queerer still that I also have had my odd notion about the President, and I also find that I think of Sunday as I think of the whole world."

"Get on a little faster, Syme," said Bull; "never mind the balloon."

"When I first saw Sunday," said Syme slowly, "I only saw his back; and when I saw his back, I knew he was the worst man in the world. His neck and shoulders were brutal, like those of some apish god. His head had a stoop that was hardly human, like the stoop of an ox. In fact, I had at once the revolting fancy that this was not a man at all, but a beast dressed up in men's clothes."


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 "Get on," said Dr. Bull.

"And then the queer thing happened. I had seen his back from the street, as he sat in the balcony. Then I entered the hotel, and coming round the other side of him, saw his face in the sunlight. His face frightened me, as it did everyone; but not because it was brutal, not because it was evil. On the contrary, it frightened me because it was so beautiful, because it was so good."

"Syme," exclaimed the Secretary, "are you ill?"

"It was like the face of some ancient archangel, judging justly after heroic wars. There was laughter in the eyes, and in the mouth honour and sorrow. There was the same white hair, the same great, grey-clad shoulders that I had seen from behind. But when I saw him from behind I was certain he was an animal, and when I saw him in front I knew he was a god."

"Pan," said the Professor dreamily, "was a god and an animal."

"Then, and again and always," went on Syme


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 like a man talking to himself, "that has been for me the mystery of Sunday, and it is also the mystery of the world. When I see the horrible back, I am sure the noble face is but a mask. When I see the face but for an instant, I know the back is only a jest. Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; good is so good, that we feel certain that evil could be explained. But the whole came to a kind of crest yesterday when I raced Sunday for the cab, and was just behind him all the way."

"Had you time for thinking then?" asked Ratcliffe.

"Time," replied Syme, "for one outrageous thought. I was suddenly possessed with the idea that the blind, blank back of his head really was his face—an awful, eyeless face staring at me! And I fancied that the figure running in front of me was really a figure running backwards, and dancing as he ran."

"Horrible!" said Dr. Bull, and shuddered.

"Horrible is not the word," said Syme. "It was


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 exactly the worst instant of my life. And yet ten minutes afterwards, when he put his head out of the cab and made a grimace like a gargoyle, I knew that he was only like a father playing hide-and-seek with his children."

"It is a long game," said the Secretary, and frowned at his broken boots.

"Listen to me," cried Syme with extraordinary emphasis. "Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front——"

"Look!" cried out Bull clamorously, "the balloon is coming down!"

There was no need to cry out to Syme, who had never taken his eyes off it. He saw the great luminous globe suddenly stagger in the sky, right itself, and then sink slowly behind the trees like a setting sun.


text: Portal:World History

title: Portal:World History


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 The man called Gogol, who had hardly spoken through all their weary travels, suddenly threw up his hands like a lost spirit.

"He is dead!" he cried. "And now I know he was my friend—my friend in the dark!"

"Dead!" snorted the Secretary. "You will not find him dead easily. If he has been tipped out of the car, we shall find him rolling as a colt rolls in a field, kicking his legs for fun."

"Clashing his hoofs," said the Professor. "The colts do, and so did Pan."

"Pan again!" said Dr. Bull irritably. "You seem to think Pan is everything."

"So he is," said the Professor, "in Greek. He means everything."

"Don't forget," said the Secretary, looking down, "that he also means Panic."

Syme had stood without hearing any of the exclamations.

"It fell over there," he said shortly. "Let us follow it!"

Then he added with an indescribable gesture—


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 "Oh, if he has cheated us all by getting killed! It would be like one of his larks."

He strode off towards the distant trees with a new energy, his rags and ribbons fluttering in the wind. The others followed him in a more footsore and dubious manner. And almost at the same moment all six men realised that they were not alone in the little field.

Across the square of turf a tall man was advancing towards them, leaning on a strange long staff like a sceptre. He was clad in a fine but old-fashioned suit with knee-breeches; its colour was that shade between blue, violet and grey which can be seen in certain shadows of the woodland. His hair was whitish grey, and at the first glance, taken along with his knee-breeches, looked as if it was powdered. His advance was very quiet; but for the silver frost upon his head, he might have been one to the shadows of the wood.

"Gentlemen," he said, "my master has a carriage waiting for you in the road just by."

"Who is your master?" asked Syme, standing quite still.


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 "I was told you knew his name," said the man respectfully.

There was a silence, and then the Secretary said—

"Where is this carriage?"

"It has been waiting only a few moments," said the stranger. "My master has only just come home."

Syme looked left and right upon the patch of green field in which he found himself. The hedges were ordinary hedges, the trees seemed ordinary trees; yet he felt like a man entrapped in fairy-land.

He looked the mysterious ambassador up and down, but he could discover nothing except that the man's coat was the exact colour of the purple shadows, and that the man's face was the exact colour of the red and brown and golden sky.

"Show us the place," Syme said briefly, and without a word the man in the violet coat turned his back and walked towards a gap in the hedge, which let in suddenly the light of a white road.

As the six wanderers broke out upon this thoroughfare, they saw the white road blocked by what looked like a long row of carriages, such a row of carriages


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 as might close the approach to some house in Park Lane. Along the side of these carriages stood a rank of splendid servants, all dressed in the grey-blue uniform, and all having a certain quality of stateliness and freedom which would not commonly belong to the servants of a gentleman, but rather to the officials and ambassadors of a great king. There were no less than six carriages waiting, one for each of the tattered and miserable band. All the attendants (as if in court-dress) wore swords, and as each man crawled into his carriage they drew them, and saluted with a sudden blaze of steel.

"What can it all mean?" asked Bull of Syme as they separated. "Is this another joke of Sunday's?"

"I don't know," said Syme as he sank wearily back in the cushions of his carriage; "but if it is, it's one of the jokes you talk about. It's a good-natured one."

The six adventurers had passed through many adventures, but not one had carried them so utterly off their feet as this last adventure of comfort. They had all become inured to things going roughly; but


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 things suddenly going smoothly swamped them. They could not even feebly imagine what the carriages were; it was enough for them to know that they were carriages, and carriages with cushions. They could not conceive who the old man was who had led them; but it was quite enough that he had certainly led them to the carriages.

Syme drove through a drifting darkness of trees in utter abandonment. It was typical of him that while he had carried his bearded chin forward fiercely so long as anything could be done, when the whole business was taken out of his hands he fell back on the cushions in a frank collapse.

Very gradually and very vaguely he realised into what rich roads the carriage was carrying him. He saw that they passed the stone gates of what might have been a park, that they began gradually to climb a hill which, while wooded on both sides, was somewhat more orderly than a forest. Then there began to grow upon him, as upon a man slowly waking from a healthy sleep, a pleasure in everything. He felt that the hedges were what hedges


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 should be, living walls; that a hedge is like a human army, disciplined, but all the more alive. He saw high elms behind the hedges, and vaguely thought how happy boys would be climbing there. Then his carriage took a turn of the path, and he saw suddenly and quietly, like a long, low, sunset cloud, a long, low house, mellow in the mild light of sunset. All the six friends compared notes afterwards and quarrelled; but they all agreed that in some unaccountable way the place reminded them of their boyhood. It was either this elm-top or that crooked path, it was either this scrap of orchard or that shape of a window; but each man of them declared that he could remember this place before he could remember his mother.

When the carriages eventually rolled up to a large, low, cavernous gateway, another man in the same uniform, but wearing a silver star on the grey breast of his coat, came out to meet them. This impressive person said to the bewildered Syme—

"Refreshments are provided for you in your room."


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 Syme, under the influence of the same mesmeric sleep of amazement, went up the large oaken stairs after the respectful attendant. He entered a splendid suite of apartments that seemed to be designed specially for him. He walked up to a long mirror with the ordinary instinct of his class, to pull his tie straight or to smooth his hair; and there he saw the frightful figure that he was—blood running down his face from where the bough had struck him, his hair standing out like yellow rags of rank grass, his clothes torn into long, wavering tatters. At once the whole enigma sprang up, simply as the question of how he had got there, and how he was to get out again. Exactly at the same moment a man in blue, who had been appointed as his valet, said very solemnly—

"I have put out your clothes, sir."

"Clothes!" said Syme sardonically. "I have no clothes except these," and he lifted two long strips of his frock-coat in fascinating festoons, and made a movement as if to twirl like a ballet girl.

"My master asks me to say," said the attendant,


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 that there is a fancy dress ball to-night, and that he desires you to put on the costume that I have laid out. Meanwhile, sir, there is a bottle of Burgundy and some cold pheasant, which he hopes you will not refuse, as it is some hours before supper."

"Cold pheasant is a good thing," said Syme reflectively, "and Burgundy is a spanking good thing. But really I do not want either of them so much as I want to know what the devil all this means, and what sort of costume you have got laid out for me. Where is it?"

The servant lifted off a kind of ottoman a long peacock-blue drapery, rather of the nature of a domino, on the front of which was emblazoned a large golden sun, and which was splashed here and there with flaming stars and crescents.

"You're to be dressed as Thursday, sir," said the valet somewhat affably.

"Dressed as Thursday!" said Syme in meditation. "It doesn't sound a warm costume."

"Oh, yes, sir," said the other eagerly, "the


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 Thursday costume is quite warm, sir. It fastens up to the chin."

"Well, I don't understand anything," said Syme, sighing. "I have been used so long to uncomfortable adventures that comfortable adventures knock me out. Still, I may be allowed to ask why I should be particularly like Thursday in a green frock spotted all over with the sun and moon. Those orbs, I think, shine on other days. I once saw the moon on Tuesday, I remember."

"Beg pardon, sir," said the valet, "Bible also provided for you," and with a respectful and rigid finger he pointed out a passage in the first chapter of Genesis. Syme read it wondering. It was that in which the fourth day of the week is associated with the creation of the sun and moon. Here, however, they reckoned from a Christian Sunday.

"This is getting wilder and wilder," said Syme, as he sat down in a chair. "Who are these people who provide cold pheasant and Burgundy, and green clothes and Bibles? Do they provide everything?"


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 "Yes, sir, everything," said the attendant gravely. "Shall I help you on with your costume?"

"Oh, hitch the bally thing on!" said Syme impatiently.

But though he affected to despise the mummery, he felt a curious freedom and naturalness in his movements as the blue and gold garment fell about him; and when he found that he had to wear a sword, it stirred a boyish dream. As he passed out of the room he flung the folds across his shoulder with a gesture, his sword stood out at an angle, and he had all the swagger of a troubadour. For these disguises did not disguise, but reveal.


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 CHAPTER XV.

THE ACCUSER.

Syme strode along the corridor he wassaw [sic] the Secretary standing at the top of a great flight of stairs. The man had never looked so noble. He was draped in a long robe of starless black, down the centre of which fell a band or broad stripe of pure white, like a single shaft of light. The whole looked like some very severe ecclesiastical vestment. There was no need for Syme to search his memory or the Bible in order to remember that the first day of creation marked the mere creation of light out of darkness. The vestment itself would alone have suggested the symbol; and Syme felt also how perfectly this pattern of pure white and black expressed the soul of the pale and austere Secretary, with his inhuman veracity and his cold frenzy, which made him so easily make war on the anarchists, and yet so easily pass for one of them.


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 Syme was scarcely surprised to notice that, amid all the ease and hospitality of their new surroundings, this man's eyes were still stern. No smell of ale or orchards could make the Secretary cease to ask a reasonable question.

If Syme had been able to see himself, he would have realised that he, too, seemed to be for the first time himself and no one else. For if the Secretary stood for that philosopher who loves the original and formless light, Syme was a type of the poet who seeks always to make the light in special shapes, to split it up into sun and star. The philosopher may sometimes love the infinite; the poet always loves the finite. For him the great moment is not the creation of light, but the creation of the sun and moon.

As they descended the broad stairs together they overtook Ratcliffe, who was clad in spring green like a huntsman, and the pattern upon whose garment was a green tangle of trees. For he stood for that third day on which the earth and green things were made, and his square, sensible face, with its not unfriendly cynicism, seemed appropriate enough to it.


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 They were led out of another broad and low gateway into a very large old English garden, full of torches and bonfires, by the broken light of which a vast carnival of people were dancing in motley dress. Syme seemed to see every shape in Nature imitated in some crazy costume. There was a man dressed as a windmill with enormous sails, a man dressed as an elephant, a man dressed as a balloon; the two last, together, seemed to keep the thread of their farcical adventures. Syme even saw, with a queer thrill, one dancer dressed like an enormous hornbill, with a beak twice as big as himself—the queer bird which had fixed itself on his fancy like a living question while he was rushing down the long road at the Zoological Gardens. There were a thousand other such objects, however. There was a dancing lamp-post, a dancing apple tree, a dancing ship. One would have thought that the untamable tune of some mad musician had set all the common objects of field and street dancing an eternal jig. And long afterwards, when Syme was middle-aged and at rest, he could never see one of those particular objects—a lamppost,


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 or an apple tree, or a windmill—without thinking that it was a strayed reveller from that revel of masquerade.

On one side of this lawn, alive with dancers, was a sort of green bank, like the terrace in such old-fashioned gardens.

Along this, in a kind of crescent, stood seven great chairs, the thrones of the seven days. Gogol and Dr. Bull were already in their seats; the Professor was just mounting to his. Gogol, or Tuesday, had his simplicity well symbolised by a dress designed upon the division of the waters, a dress that separated upon his forehead and fell to his feet, grey and silver, like a sheet of rain. The Professor, whose day was that on which the birds and fishes—the ruder forms of life—were created, had a dress of dim purple, over which sprawled goggle-eyed fishes and outrageous tropical birds, the union in him of unfathomable fancy and of doubt. Dr. Bull, the last day of Creation, wore a coat covered with heraldic animals in red and gold, and on his crest a man rampant. He lay back in his chair with a broad smile, the picture of an optimist in his element.


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 One by one the wanderers ascended the bank and sat in their strange seats. As each of them sat down a roar of enthusiasm rose from the carnival, such as that with which crowds receive kings. Cups were clashed and torches shaken, and feathered hats flung in the air. The men for whom these thrones were reserved were men crowned with some extraordinary laurels. But the central chair was empty.

Syme was on the left hand of it and the Secretary on the right. The Secretary looked across the empty throne at Syme, and said, compressing his lips—

"We do not know yet that he is not dead in a field."

Almost as Syme heard the words, he saw on the sea of human faces in front of him a frightful and beautiful alteration, as if heaven had opened behind his head. But Sunday had only passed silently along the front like a shadow, and had sat in the central seat. He was draped plainly, in a pure and terrible white, and his hair was like a silver flame on his forehead.

For a long time—it seemed for hours—that huge masquerade of mankind swayed and stamped in front of them to marching and exultant music. Every


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 couple dancing seemed a separate romance; it might be a fairy dancing with a pillar-box, or a peasant girl dancing with the moon; but in each case it was, somehow, as absurd as Alice in Wonderland, yet as grave and kind as a love story. At last, however, the thick crowd began to thin itself. Couples strolled away into the garden-walks, or began to drift towards that end of the building where stood smoking, in huge pots like fish-kettles, some hot and scented mixtures of old ale or wine. Above all these, upon a sort of black framework on the roof of the house, roared in its iron basket a gigantic bonfire, which lit up the land for miles. It flung the homely effect of firelight over the face of vast forests of grey or brown, and it seemed to fill with warmth even the emptiness of upper night. Yet this also, after a time, was allowed to grow fainter; the dim groups gathered more and more round the great cauldrons, or passed, laughing and clattering, into the inner passages of that ancient house. Soon there were only some ten loiterers in the garden; soon only four. Finally the last stray merry-maker


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 ran into the house whooping to his companions. The fire faded, and the slow, strong stars came out. And the seven strange men were left alone, like seven stone statues on their chairs of stone. Not one of them had spoken a word.

They seemed in no haste to do so, but heard in silence the hum of insects and the distant song of one bird. Then Sunday spoke, but so dreamily that he might have been continuing a conversation rather than beginning one.

"We will eat and drink later," he said. "Let us remain together a little, we who have loved each other so sadly, and have fought so long. I seem to remember only centuries of heroic war, in which you were always heroes—epic on epic, iliad on iliad, and you always brothers in arms. Whether it was but recently (for time is nothing), or at the beginning of the world, I sent you out to war. I sat in the darkness, where there is not any created thing, and to you I was only a voice commanding valour and an unnatural virtue. You heard the voice in the dark, and you never heard it again. The sun in


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 heaven denied it, the earth and sky denied it, all human wisdom denied it. And when I met you in the daylight I denied it myself."

Syme stirred sharply in his seat, but otherwise there was silence, and the incomprehensible went on.

"But you were men. You did not forget your secret honour, though the whole cosmos turned an engine of torture to tear it out of you. I knew how near you were to hell. I know how you, Thursday, crossed swords with King Satan, and how you, Wednesday, named me in the hour without hope."

There was complete silence in the starlit garden, and then the black-browed Secretary, implacable, turned in his chair towards Sunday, and said in a harsh voice—

"Who and what are you?"

"I am the Sabbath," said the other without moving. "I am the peace of God."

The Secretary started up, and stood crushing his costly robe in his hand.

"I know what you mean," he cried, "and it is exactly that that I cannot forgive you. I know you


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 are contentment, optimism, what do they call the thing, an ultimate reconciliation. Well, I am not reconciled. If you were the man in the dark room, why were you also Sunday, an offence to the sunlight? If you were from the first our father and our friend, why were you also our greatest enemy? We wept, we fled in terror; the iron entered into our souls—and you are the peace of God! Oh, I can forgive God His anger, though it destroyed nations; but I cannot forgive Him His peace."

Sunday answered not a word, but very slowly he turned his face of stone upon Syme as if asking a question.

"No," said Syme, "I do not feel fierce like that. I am grateful to you, not only for wine and hospitality here, but for many a fine scamper and free fight. But I should like to know. My soul and heart are as happy and quiet here as this old garden, but my reason is still crying out. I should like to know."

Sunday looked at Ratcliffe, whose clear voice said—

"It seems so silly that you should have been on both sides and fought yourself."


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 Bull said—

"l understand nothing, but I am happy. In fact, I am going to sleep."

"I am not happy," said the Professor with his head in his hands, "because I do not understand. You let me stray a little too near to hell."

And then Gogol said, with the absolute simplicity of a child—

"I wish I knew why I was hurt so much."

Still Sunday said nothing, but only sat with his mighty chin upon his hand, and gazed at the distance. Then at last he said—

"I have heard your complaints in order. And here, I think, comes another to complain, and we will hear him also."

The falling fire in the great cresset threw a last long gleam, like a bar of burning gold, across the dim grass. Against this fiery band was outlined in utter black the advancing legs of a black-clad figure. He seemed to have a fine close suit with knee-breeches such as that which was worn by the servants of the house, only that it was not blue, but of this absolute


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 sable. He had, like the servants, a kind of sword by his side. It was only when he had come quite close to the crescent of the seven and flung up his face to look at them, that Syme saw, with thunder-struck clearness, that the face was the broad, almost ape-like face of his old friend Gregory, with its rank red hair and its insulting smile.

"Gregory!" gasped Syme, half-rising from his seat. "Why, this is the real anarchist!"

"Yes," said Gregory, with a great and dangerous restraint, "I am the real anarchist."

"'Now there was a day,'" murmured Bull, who seemed really to have fallen asleep, "'when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them.'"

"You are right," said Gregory, and gazed all round. "I am a destroyer. I would destroy the world if I could."

A sense of a pathos far under the earth stirred up in Syme, and he spoke brokenly and without sequence.

"Oh, most unhappy man," he cried, "try to be happy! You have red hair like your sister."


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 "My red hair, like red flames, shall burn up the world," said Gregory. "I thought I hated everything more than common men can hate anything; but I find that I do not hate everything so much as I hate you! "

"I never hated you," said Syme very sadly.

Then out of this unintelligible creature the last thunders broke.

"You!" he cried. "You never hated because you never lived. I know what you are all of you, from first to last—you are the people in power! You are the police—the great fat, smiling men in blue and buttons! You are the Law, and you have never been broken. But is there a free soul alive that does not long to break you, only because you have never been broken? We in revolt talk all kind of nonsense doubtless about this crime or that crime of the Government. It is all folly! The only crime of the Government is that it governs. The unpardonable sin of the supreme power is that it is supreme. I do not curse you for being cruel. I do not curse you (though I might) for being kind. I curse you for


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 being safe! You sit in your chairs of stone, and have never come down from them. You are the seven angels of heaven, and you have had no troubles. Oh, I could forgive you everything, you that rule all mankind, if I could feel for once that you had suffered for one hour a real agony such as I——"

Syme sprang to his feet, shaking from head to foot.

"I see everything," he cried, "everything that there is. Why does each thing on the earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of the Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter. So that the real lie of Satan may be flung back in the face of this blasphemer, so that by tears and torture we may earn the right to say to this man, 'You lie!' No agonies can be too great


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 to buy the right to say to this accuser, 'We also have suffered.'

"It is not true that we have never been broken. We have been broken upon the wheel. It is not true that we have never descended from these thrones. We have descended into hell. We were complaining of unforgettable miseries even at the very moment when this man entered insolently to accuse us of happiness. I repel the slander; we have not been happy. I can answer for every one of the great guards of Law whom he has accused. At least—"

He had turned his eyes so as to see suddenly the great face of Sunday, which wore a strange smile.

"Have you," he cried in a dreadful voice, "have you ever suffered?"

As he gazed, the great face grew to an awful size, grew larger than the colossal mask of Memnon, which had made him scream as a child. It grew larger and larger, filling the whole sky; then everything went black. Only in the blackness before it entirely destroyed his brain he seemed to hear a distant voice saying a commonplace text that he had heard


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 somewhere, "Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of?"

When men in books awake from a vision, they commonly find themselves in some place in which they might have fallen asleep; they yawn in a chair, or lift themselves with bruised limbs from a field. Syme's experience was something much more psychologically strange if there was indeed anything unreal, in the earthly sense, about the things he had gone through. For while he could always remember afterwards that he had swooned before the face of Sunday, he could not remember having ever come to at all. He could only remember that gradually and naturally he knew that he was and had been walking along a country lane with an easy and conversational companion. That companion had been a part of his recent drama; it was the red-haired poet Gregory. They were walking like old friends, and were in the middle of a conversation about some triviality. But Syme could only feel an unnatural buoyancy in his body and a crystal simplicity in his mind that seemed


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Rh to be superior to everything that he said or did. He felt he was in possession of some impossible good news, which made every other thing a triviality, but an adorable triviality.

Dawn was breaking over everything in colours at once clear and timid; as if Nature made a first attempt at yellow and a first attempt at rose. A breeze blew so clean and sweet, that one could not think that it blew from the sky; it blew rather through some hole in the sky. Syme felt a simple surprise when he saw rising all round him on both sides of the road the red, irregular buildings of Saffron Park. He had no idea that he had walked so near London. He walked by instinct along one white road, on which early birds hopped and sang, and found himself outside a fenced garden. There he saw the sister of Gregory, the girl with the gold-red hair, cutting lilac before breakfast, with the great unconscious gravity of a girl.


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G. K. C.


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Rh for every flower creature that dwells in its most delightsome places more than a hundred are living here. Here, here is Florida! Here they are not sprinkled apart with grass between as on our prairies, but grasses are sprinkled among the flowers; not as in Cuba, flowers piled upon flowers, heaped and gathered into deep, glowing masses, but side by side, flower to flower, petal to petal, touching but not entwined, branches weaving past and past each other, yet free and separate—one smooth garment, mosses next the ground, grasses above, petaled flowers between.

Before studying the flowers of this valley and their sky, and all of the furniture and sounds and adornments of their home, one can scarce believe that their vast assemblies are permanent; but rather that, actuated by some plant purpose, they had convened from every plain and mountain and meadow of their kingdom, and that the different coloring of patches, acres, and miles marks the bounds of the various tribes and family encampments.


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Rh pronounced very good; and because of the concentrated form of its Yosemite, caused by certain conditions of baking, yeasting, and glacier-frosting of this portion of the great Sierra loaf. In like manner, we readily perceive that the great central plain is one batch of bread—one golden cake—and we are loath to leave these magnificent loaves for crumbs, however good.

After our smoky sky has been washed in the rains of winter, the whole complex row of Sierras appears from the plain as a simple wall, slightly beveled, and colored in horizontal bands laid one above another, as if entirely composed of partially straightened rainbows. So, also, the plain seen from the mountains has the same simplicity of smooth surface, colored purple and yellow, like a patchwork of irised clouds. But when we descend to this smooth-furred sheet, we discover complexity in its physical conditions equal to that of the mountains, though less strongly marked. In particular, that portion of the plain lying between the


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 20

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 20 30 October 1945

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제20호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 20


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Kahn, Otto Hermann

KAHN, OTTO HERMANN (1867-      ), American financier, was born in Mannheim, Germany, Feb. 21 1867. His father had been among the refugees to America after the revolution of 1848 and had become an American citizen, but later returned to Germany. He was educated in a Gymnasium in Mannheim, and after a year's service in the German army entered a banking house. In 1888 he entered the London branch of the Deutsche Bank, remaining there five years and becoming a British citizen. In 1893 he went to the United States, and for two years held a position with the house of Speyer & Co. in New York City. Then after travel in Europe he joined the firm of Kuhn, Loeb & Co., in New York City. In March 1917 he became an American citizen. He was a patron of music and gave private assistance to promising talent. He was chairman of the New York committee of the Shakespeare Tercentenary (1916) and was vice-president of the Permanent Blind Relief War Fund. He was chairman of the board of directors of the Metropolitan Opera Co. of New York and of the French theatre of New York, and a founder and later treasurer of the New Theatre Co. He was a trustee of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and of Rutgers College. He was a director in numerous corporations, including the Equitable Trust Co. (N.Y.) and the Union Pacific railway. During the World War he took a leading part in showing to the Germans in the United States that Germany was in the wrong and must be opposed. He was the author of Right Above Race (1918); Our Economic Problems: A Financier's Point of View (1920) and Two Years of Faulty Taxation (1920).


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 21

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 21 2 November 1945

 Until further ordered, and except as preciously repealed or abolished, all laws which were in force, regulations, orders, notices or other documents issued by any former government of Korea having the force of law on 9 August 1945 will continue in full force and effect until repealed by express order of the Military Korea. All local laws and customs will continue in force until repealed by competent authority The provisions of law with respect to the organization of the General of Korea, the Provincial Government, the cities, town, and villages, including the directors of bureaus, the secretaries of sections of the secretariat, the mayor, county head. police station chief, tax office chief, head of town and village, and their subordinates are continued in force until abolished b competent authority, except as they have been modified or repealed by the orders of the Military Governor. Subject to directives of higher authority, any and all authority heretofore exercised by the Governor-General of Korea may be exercised by the Military Governor.

 All county of Korea south of 38 degrees north latitude shall take cognizance of and enforce all laws of Korea, the provisions of the proclamations of Commander-in Chief, United State Army Forces, Pacific, and all orders and ordinances of the Military Governor of Korea. for such purpose all such courts are hereby constituted Military Occupation Courts. Nothing herein contained shall confer upon such courts jurisdiction over any military personnel of official of the United States or any of the United Nations, or deprive Military Commissions, Provost Courts, or other military courts established by the United States Army Forces in Korea of the jurisdiction Conferred upon them.

 This ordinance is effective at midnight 2 November 1945.

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제21호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 21


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Kahr, August Richard von

KAHR, AUGUST RICHARD VON (1862-      ), Bavarian Minister-President from March 14 1920 to Sept. 20 1921, was born on Nov. 29 1862 at Weissenburg in Bavaria. After March 14 1920 he came into office under military influences as a secondary result of the Kapp coup (March 13) in Berlin. The most powerful party in Bavaria, the Bavarian Volkspartei, was then in a state of much anxiety as a result of the experiences of Bolshevism, anarchy and violence through which Munich had passed in the spring of 1919. The Ministry presided over by the Moderate Socialist Hoffmann had, it is true, succeeded in quelling Bolshevism with the aid of Republican troops from Prussia and Württemberg. The great majority of the Bavarian Catholic Volkspartei, however, as well as Liberals of various shades, not to speak of the Royalists and reactionaries, wanted further guarantees against a recurrence of the Bolshevist terror. The Kapp coup in Berlin, which in some of its aspects sprang from similar anxieties in Prussia, gave the signal for political action in Munich, and at a midnight sitting the Bavarian Socialist Ministry was somewhat unceremoniously hustled out of office — it is alleged under military pressure — and a Coalition Cabinet under von Kahr installed. The Coalition included reactionary Conservatives whose influence became more and more predominant. They were backed up by formerly Liberal Bavarian journals which had been bought up by the Prussian great industrialists. The new Minister-President had been Landeshauptmann — the highest position in the provincial administrative hierarchy in Upper Franconia. He was known as a capable and energetic bureaucrat and as nothing else. Under his Government a formal state of siege was maintained, and the police under the reactionary prefect Poehner exercised the greatest severity in the supervision of foreigners and even of non-Bavarian Germans, who were only admitted to the country by special permit. Above all, von Kahr and his Ministry endeavoured to maintain the armed volunteer force, the Einwohnerwehr. But the Reichstag in Berlin had passed a law for disarmament of this force, and the Government of the Reich insisted that Bavaria, like the rest of Germany, should comply in this respect with the Treaty of Versailles, the Spa decisions and the reiterated demands of the Allied Powers. Repeatedly it seemed as if the conflict between the Government of the Reich and that of Bavaria would end in open rupture. In the late summer of 1921, however, the Bavarian Government —

formally at any rate — gave way, and it was understood that, by arrangement, the Einwohnerwehr was surrendering its arms and equipment. A fresh conflict arose over the measures which were taken by the President of the Reich, Ebert, on the advice of the Ministry of the Reich, as a sequel to the assassination of the Democratic Catholic Centre leader Erzberger (Aug. 26 1921). Orders were issued from Berlin for the suppression of several Bavarian newspapers which had been indulging in violent denunciation of Erzberger, the Republican constitution and the Government of the Reich. Von Kahr and his Ministry questioned the right of the Reich to apply such measures to one of the German federated states without previous arrangement, or least consultation, with the Government of that state. A serious complication was that the attitude of the Bavarian Government was supported by the Prussian reactionaries, several of whom, like Ludendorff, had taken up their residence in Bavaria and were hoping to make it the centre of an anti-Republican or Royalist movement for the whole of Germany. The Government of the Reich, under Dr. Wirth as Chancellor, manifested considerable firmness, and ultimately in Sept. 1921 von Kahr resigned and was succeeded as Minister-President by the minister in Darmstadt, Count Lerchenfeld, a man of experience and character, who commanded the confidence of the Catholic Volkspartei and of the Bavarian Liberals of all shades.


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 22

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 22 3 November 1945

  For purposes of governmental administration and control, the following temporary transfers of jurisdiction over districts, villages, towns, counties, and cities located south of and contiguous to North Latitude 38° are hereby effected

 * a. in Kyung Kei DO (京畿道) :

 * (1) District of Yongnam Village (嶺南面), Kaepung County (開豊郡) to Jinso Village (津西面), Changtan County (長湍郡).
 * (2) District of Buk Village (北面) to Tosong Village (土城面), Kaepung County (開豊郡).
 * (3) District of Changdo Village (長道面), Cangdan County (長湍郡), to Jinso Village (津西面), Changdan County (長湍郡).
 * (4) District of Yonehon County (漣川郡), to Paju County (坡州郡).
 * (5) District of Chongok Village (全谷面) to Choksong Village (積城面), Paju County (坡州郡).
 * (6) District of Paekhak Village (百鶴面) to Choksong Village (積城面), Paju County (坡州郡).
 * (7) District of Idong Village (二東面) to Ildong Village (一東面).
 * (8) District of Changsu Village (蒼水面) and Chongsan Village (靑山面) joined forming a new Village with the Village office at Chosengri (硝城里).
 * (9) District of Yongjung Village (永中面) to shinbuk Vilage (新北面).

 * b. In hang Hae Do (黃海道) :

 * (1) District of Whang hae Do (黃海道) to Kyung Kei Do (京畿道).
 * (2) Village of Chuhwa (秋花面), Naesong (來城面), Ilshin (日新面), and Chongyon (靑龍面), all of Pyoksong (碧城郡), to Yonpaek County (延白郡).
 * (3) Village of Dongkang (東江面), Haenam (海南面), and Songrim (松林面), all of Pyoksong County (碧城郡), to Ongjin County (甕津郡).
 * (4) District of Hwasong Village (花城面), Yonpaek County (延白郡) to Skosan Village (石山面).
 * (5) District of Unsan Village (雲山面), Yonpaek County (延白郡) to Unchon Village (銀川面).
 * (6) District of Yongehon Vilage (泳泉面), Pyoksong County (碧城郡) to Naesong Village (來城面).

 This order is effictive at midnight 3 November 1945.

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제22호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 22


text:
Author:William John Macquorn Rankine

Works

 * Outlines of the Science of Energetics
 * These Songs and Fables (1874) (PDF)

Papers

 * "On plane water-lines in two dimensions" Phil. Trans. R. Soc. 31 December 1864 Volume 154

Contributions to EB9

 * (Applied (in part))

Works about Rankine

 * "William John Macquorn Rankine", in Lectures on Ten British Physicists of the Nineteenth Century (1919), edited by Alexander Macfarlane
 * "William John Macquorn Rankine", in Lectures on Ten British Physicists of the Nineteenth Century (1919), edited by Alexander Macfarlane
 * "William John Macquorn Rankine", in Lectures on Ten British Physicists of the Nineteenth Century (1919), edited by Alexander Macfarlane

title: Author:William John Macquorn Rankine


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 23

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 23 3 November 1945

 SECTION Ⅰ.  Effective immediately, all sales, gifts, or transfers by any means of any alcoholic beverage of any strength or proportion of alcohol, except beer which does not contain any proportion of any distilled alcoholic substance, to members of the Armed Forces or civilians of any of the United Nations under the jurisdiction of the United States Army Forces in Korea, are hereby prohibited.

 SECTION Ⅱ. Any person violating the provisions of this ordinance, shall, upon conviction of a Military Occupation Court, suffer such punishment as the court shall determine.

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제23호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 23


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 24

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 24 5 November 1945

 SECTION Ⅰ. The Korean Important Materials Control Corporation created by the law of 28 December 1943, is continued as a body corporate and an instrumentality of the Government of Korea, but is hereby renamed and known as the Materials Control Corporation

 SECTION Ⅱ. The Corporation is hereby constituted an independent agency of the Government of Korea for the purpose of aiding in and facilitating the procurement, receiving, handling, storing, safe-guarding, custody, accounting, sale and other distribution of all civilian relief and rehabilitation supplies, surplus war materials, and all surrendered or abandoned Japanese movable and tangible personal property which is the subject of market operations.
 * a. Existing precisions having legal or regulatory effect on the corporation are hereby conformed to this order.
 * b. The corporation is hereby directed to use all its assets and funds under its control in the exercise of its functions.

 SECTION Ⅲ. The main office of the Corporation will be in Seoul, Korea. The Corporation will conblish branch offices in each of the provincial capitals and at such other places as it deems necessary.

 SECTION Ⅳ. The affair of the Corporation will be under the direction and management of a Director appointed by the Military Governor.
 * a. The Director will appoint and fix the compensation of officers and employees of the Corporation.
 * b.The Director will prescribe necessary regulations for carrying out the purposes of this Ordinance.

 SECTION Ⅴ. This order is effective at midnight 5 November 1945.

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제24호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 24


text: 1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Krümmel, Otto


text:
USAMGIK Ordinance 25

HEADQUARTERS

UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

Office of the Military Governor

Seoul, Korea

ORDINANCE NUMBER 25 7 November 1945

  The Department of Public Health and Welfare is hereby establish within each Provincial Government of Korea for the purpose of performing the following functions :

 * a. Study, protection, and improvement if health of the provincial population.
 * b. Health, Education
 * c. Epidemiology, preventative, and improvement of control of communicable diseases.
 * d. Maternal and child health.
 * e. Hospitals and institutions.
 * f. Nursing affairs.
 * h. Dental affairs.
 * i. Sanitation.
 * j. Laboratories.
 * k. Medical supply.
 * l. Vital Statistics.
 * m. Emergency and disaster relief.
 * n. Public assistance to permanently needy individuals.
 * o. Child Welfare and other institutional care.
 * p. Employee welfare and Pension systems.
 * q. Housing
 * r. Care and relocation of relocation of repatriated and displaced Koreans.
 * s. Such other public Welfare programs as may be required to aid achieving the aims of the occupational forces in Korea.

 All duties, functions, records, property, civilian personnel of the following organization are hereby transferred to the Public Health and Welfare Department of the Provincial Governments within Korea :

 * a. The Public Health Section of the Police Departments of the Provincial Governments.
 * b. The Sanitary Sections of the Police Stations of the Police Departments of the Provincial Governments.
 * c. The District Public Doctors of the Police Departments of the provincial Governments.
 * d. The Soldier's Welfare Sections of the Police Departments of the provincial Governments.
 * e. The Social Welfare Sections of the Departments of the Interior of the provincial Governments.
 * f. The Social Welfare Sections of the Labor Departments of the Interior of the provincial Governments.

 A National Veterinary Service Department within the Bureau of Public Health and Welfare is hereby established for the purpose of regulating and directing a National Veterinary Service within Korea.

 All duties, functions, records, property, and civilian personnel of the Bureau of Agriculture and Commerce that are devoted exclusively to the conduction of veterinary services in Korea including the Fusan Cattle Sanitation Laboratory in Fusan, Kyung Sang Nam Do and the Branch thereof in Anyang, Kyung Kei Do are hereby transferred to the Bureau of Public Health and welfare.

 The order is effective at midnight 7 November 1945.

 * BY DIRECTION OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL

 * UNITED STATES ARMY FORCES IN KOREA

A. V. ARNOLD

Major General, United States Army

Military Governor of Korea.

군정법령 제25호

title: USAMGIK Ordinance 25


text:
Page:Rewards and Fairies (Kipling, 1910).djvu/372

344 God bless the master of this house,

And all that sleep therein!

And guard the fens from pirate folk,

And keep us all from sin,

To walk in honesty, good sirs,

Of thought and deed and word!

Which shall befriend our latter end—

And who shall judge the Lord?


text:
Page:Rewards and Fairies (Kipling, 1910).djvu/370

342 lace, and tilting it toward the last of the light he showed the little, red, furry chap curled up inside, his tail between his eyes that were shut for their winter sleep.

'Let's take him home. Don't breathe on him,' said Una. 'It'll make him warm and he'll wake up and die straight off. Won't he, Hobby?'

'That's a heap better by my reckonin' than wakin' up and findin' himself in a cage for life. No! We'll lay him into the bottom o' this hedge. Dat's jus' right! No more trouble for him till come Spring. An' now we'll go home.'


text:
Page:Rewards and Fairies (Kipling, 1910).djvu/21

 INTRODUCTION

upon a time, Dan and Una, brother and sister, living in the English country, had the good fortune to meet with Puck, alias Robin Goodfellow, alias Nick o' Lincoln, alias Lob-lie-by-the-Fire, the last survivor in England of those whom mortals call Fairies. Their proper name, of course, is 'The People of the Hills.' This Puck, by means of the magic of Oak, Ash, and Thorn, gave the children power—

The result was that from time to time, and in different places on the farm and in the fields and the country about, they saw and talked to some rather interesting people. One of these, for instance, was a Knight of the Norman Conquest, another a young Centurion of a Roman Legion stationed in England, another a builder and decorator of King Henry VII's time; and so on and so forth; as I have tried to explain in a book called Puck of Pook's Hill.

A year or so later, the children met Puck once more, and though they were then older and wiser, and wore boots regularly instead of going barefooted when they xiii


text: 1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Kühlmann, Richard von


text:
Page:Rewards and Fairies (Kipling, 1910).djvu/15

 A CHARM

Take of English earth as much

As either hand may rightly clutch.

In the taking of it breathe

Prayer for all who lie beneath—

Not the great nor well bespoke,

But the mere uncounted folk

Of whose life and death is none

Report or lamentation.

Lay that earth upon thy heart,

And thy sickness shall depart.

It shall sweeten and make whole

Fevered breath and festered soul;

It shall mightily restrain

Over-busy hand and brain;

It shall ease thy mortal strife

'Gainst the immortal woe of life,

Till thyself restored shall prove

By what grace the Heavens do move.

Take of English flowers these—

Spring's full-facéd primroses,

Summer's wild wide-hearted rose,

Autumn's wall-flower of the close, vii


text:
Page:Rewards and Fairies (Kipling, 1910).djvu/16

viii And, thy darkness to illume,

Winter's bee-thronged ivy-bloom.

Seek and serve them where they bide

From Candlemas to Christmas-tide,

For these simples used aright

Can restore a failing sight.

These shall cleanse and purify

Webbed and inward-turning eye;

These shall show thee treasure hid,

Thy familiar fields amid;

And reveal (which is thy need)

Every man a King indeed!


text:
User talk:178.34.56.238

Welcome

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

 * Help pages
 * Style Guide
 * Inclusion policy

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

In any case, I hope you enjoy donating your time to grow the Wikisource library that is free for everyone to use! In discussions, please sign your comments using four tildes ( ~ ); this will automatically produce your IP address (or username if you're logged in) and the date. If you need help, ask me on my talk page, or ask your question here (click  [ edit] ) and place  before your question. Again, welcome! — billinghurst  sDrewth  02:27, 7 November 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:178.34.56.238


text:
User talk:سفاک

— billinghurst  sDrewth  02:27, 7 November 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:سفاک


text:
User talk:Harald88

— billinghurst  sDrewth  02:27, 7 November 2010 (UTC)

Infos
Hi, maybe you are also interested in Two Papers of Henri Poincaré on Mathematical Physics by Lorentz. --D.H (talk) 18:51, 9 November 2010 (UTC)

Yes sure, I know them; in the future I'll check them - I hope! Harald88 (talk) 00:34, 14 November 2010 (UTC)

Template
We have a new Template:Translation (you will find it in the header of The Evolution of Space and Time). If you have finished the proofread, please replace "proof-orig" by "validated". Thanks, --D.H (talk) 16:49, 1 December 2010 (UTC)
 * Ok, the "proof-eng" Template remains on the top of the article. Thanks for your efforts! --D.H (talk) 09:09, 2 December 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:Harald88


text: 1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Külpe, Oswald


text:
User talk:99.106.229.168

Welcome

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

 * Help pages
 * Style Guide
 * Inclusion policy

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

In any case, I hope you enjoy donating your time to grow the Wikisource library that is free for everyone to use! In discussions, please sign your comments using four tildes ( ~ ); this will automatically produce your IP address (or username if you're logged in) and the date. If you need help, ask me on my talk page, or ask your question here (click  [ edit] ) and place  before your question. Again, welcome! — billinghurst  sDrewth  02:34, 7 November 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:99.106.229.168


text:
Talk:Korean Armistice Agreement

Correct Name for Document
The page heading describes this as the "Armistice Agreement for the Restoration of the South Korean State (1953)". Indeed, the source http://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=85&page=transcript shows this heading as well. However, the document itself does not say anything about "Restoration of the South Korean State". Indeed, the words "restoration" and "South Korean State" do not appear in the document. Also, the words "Bureau of Arms Control" are not part of the document. I note that www.ourdocuments.org says "Transcription courtesy of theFindLaw website." (See: http://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=85&page=transcript) In looking at the FindLaw page for the Armistice Agreement (http://news.findlaw.com/wp/docs/korea/kwarmagr072753.html), I see it titled as "TEXT OF THE KOREAN WAR ARMISTICE AGREEMENT". It does not say "for the Restoration of the South Korean State". With these facts in mind, I submit that somehow the NARA people have mis-titled the document on their webpage. (I have emailed them in this regard.) Moreover, since 1. the document itself, and 2. source (FindLaw.com) do not use the words "Restoration ..." or "Bureau of Arms Control" I have deleted them from the document. --Srich32977 (talk) 02:46, 7 November 2010 (UTC) PS:  Let me add that Bureau of Arms Control (mentioned in the agreement article before editing) does not list the Armistice Agreement. See: http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/bureau_ac/treaties_ac.html 02:58, 7 November 2010 (UTC)

 * Your point is well taken here and makes sense to keep it "Korean [War] Armistice Agreement" rather than what OurDocs.gov has -- though I wouldn't put too much faith in the FindLaw transciption either (it is litered with typos - See 29 & 59(d)(1) off the top of my head). The prior issue actually was more with the sloppy contribution and subsequent noddling with the content/layout than anything else if I remember right. -- George Orwell III (talk) 02:15, 9 November 2010 (UTC)

Signatures
The original document of the armistice agreement contains five signatures — not just the two shown here. It was also signed by Kim Il Sung, Peng Teh-Huai (Commander of the Chinese People's Volunteers), and US General Mark W. Clark. See commons:File:Korean Armistice En-Text 1953.jpg. Rich wales (talk · contribs) 06:45, 5 January 2018 (UTC)

 * I have added the signature information for these other people.  Rich wales (talk · contribs) 06:53, 5 January 2018 (UTC)

title: Talk:Korean Armistice Agreement


text:
Author:Richard Knolles

Works

 * Generall Historie of the Turkes from the first beginning of that Nation (1603)

As translator

 * The Six Bookes of a Common Weale written by J. Bodin, a famous Lawyer … out of the French and Latin copies, done into English (1606), by Jean Bodin

title: Author:Richard Knolles


text:
User:Srich32977

OKAY -- here is a userpage for me. On Wikipedia, I'm Srich32977.

title: User:Srich32977


text: Template:SBDEL lkpl

title: Template:SBDEL lkpl


text:
Page:The Dictionary of Australasian Biography.djvu/551

  to the King of Prussia on Jan. 19th, 1866, and was made G.C.B. on July 6th, 1866. Lord Augustus was appointed Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the North German Confederation on Feb. 24th, 1868, was sworn of the Privy Council on Nov. 11th, 1868, and was appointed Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the Emperor of Russia on Oct. 16th, 1871. The latter post he held till Feb. 1879, when he was appointed Governor of New South Wales, where he remained till 1885, when he was succeeded by Lord Carrington. Lord Augustus Loftus took an active part in the despatch of the New South Wales contingent to the Soudan, and indeed it is doubtful whether he may not claim to have been the author of the project for offering colonial aid to the imperial authorities on this occasion. Lord Augustus retired on a pension, and resides in England. He married on August 9th, 1845, Emma, daughter of Admiral Henry Francis Greville, C.B. In 1892 he published his “Diplomatic Reminiscences”.  Lyster, William Saurin, son of Captain Chaworth Lyster, and godson of the Hon. William Saurin, then Attorney-General for Ireland, was born in Dublin in 1827. After an adventurous youth, visiting Australia in his boyhood, and afterwards serving as a volunteer under the famous buccaneer Walker of Nicaragua, William Saurin Lyster finally settled in Melbourne, bringing with him a full high-class operatic company; and could claim the honour of introducing Italian opera into Australia, although there had been excellent operatic singers before his time in Sydney. Lyster's first operatic company included Madame Lucy Escott, who retained for many years undisputed sway as the favourite prima-donna—a gifted singer and a fine tragic actress; Miss Georgia Hodson (afterwards Mrs. Lyster); Madame Rosalie Durand; Henry Squires, the popular tenor; and Mr. Fred Lyster, brother of the impresario. Such an undertaking was no light one in those days; but Lyster not only introduced the above artistes, but continued to bring out, from time to time, other brilliant singers, who have left a name in the musical annals of Australia. Among these may be named Madame Fanny Simonsen, an admirable vocalist and actress, equally at home in classic opera or opera-bouffe, and her husband, the excellent violinist. These are specially named, not only on account of their excellence as artistes, but because they settled down in the colonies, and became in course of time Australians. In partnership first with Mr. John Smith, and then with Signor Cagli, Lyster introduced to the colonial public a succession of brilliant Italian singers; while two of their conductors, Herr Siede and Signor Zelman, remained, like the Simonsens, in Australia, and continued to brighten colonial existence by their musical talent. Mr. Lyster also introduced the celebrated pianiste, Madame Arabella Goddard, as well as Levey, the famous cornet-player. In addition to acclimatising Italian opera, he organised English companies for the production of favourite ballad operas and adaptations of French opera-bouffe. Among these English companies were singers of the highest merit, but none so identified with operatic art in Australia as Mr. Armes Beaumont, the popular tenor, who for almost twenty years has held an unique position in the estimation of Melbourne audiences as the favourite in oratorio, in classical opera, in opera-bouffe, and on the concert platform. For many years Mr. W. S. Lyster was the lessee of the Opera House, Melbourne; and it was at this theatre, and under Mr. Lyster's management, that the great Italian tragédienne, Madame Ristori, and her company appeared. He died on Nov. 26th, 1880.  MᶜCombie, Hon. Thomas, who was a native of Scotland, was a very prominent man in the early days of the colony of Victoria, or, as it was then called, Port Phillip. In 1845 he was a member of the committee appointed at a public meeting held in Melbourne on Sept. 28th to frame a petition to the Imperial Parliament in opposition to the proposal of New South Wales to pledge the credit of Port Phillip for an immigration loan for her own benefit. Mr. MᶜCombie was one of the first members of the Melbourne Town Council. In 1846 he took an active part in exerting pressure on the Superintendent of Port Phillip, Mr., to expend the moneys voted by the Sydney Legislature for public works in Melbourne, 535


text:
Page:The Dictionary of Australasian Biography.djvu/543

You] for introducing responsible government in the island colony. This was successfully done, and Sir Henry Fox Young held office till Dec. 1861, when he returned to England and retired from the colonial service. He married in 1848 the eldest daughter of Charles Marryat, of Park Field, Potter's Bar, and niece of Captain Marryat, the celebrated novelist. He died in London on Sept. 18th, 1870.

 Young, James Henry, M.L.A., late Minister for Works, New South Wales, and ex-Speaker of the New South Wales Legislative Assembly, in which he sits for Hastings and Manning, was Minister of Public Instruction in the last Robertson Ministry from Dec. 1885 to Feb. 1886. In March 1887 he was elected Speaker of the Assembly, and was re-elected in Feb. 1889. In Oct. 1890 he resigned. Mr. Young, who has represented his present constituency since 1880, is the son of James Young by his marriage with Maria Druce, and was born at Moor Court, Hampshire, on May 15th, 1834. Mr. Young, who commenced life in the Peninsular and Oriental Company's service, finally gave up seafaring for commercial pursuits in 1853, arriving in Sydney in July 1859. He was appointed Minister for Public Works in the Parkes Ministry in August 1890, and held the post, in which he succeeded Mr. Bruce Smith, until the retirement of the Cabinet in Oct. 1891. He married in July 1859 at Port Macquarie, N.S.W., Ellen, daughter of Major Kemp.

 Younghusband, William, was one of the promoters of the Murray River Steam Navigation Company, which enabled Captain Cadell in 1853 to win the £4000 bonus offered by the Government of South Australia for the initiation of steam communication on the Murray. Having represented Stanley in the mixed Legislative Council for five years prior to the inauguration of responsible government in 1856, he was elected to the new Legislative Council, and was Chief Secretary in the Hanson Government from Sept. 1857 to May 1860. This being the first stable administration formed subsequent to the disappearance of the old officials from public life, it fell to Mr. Younghusband to organise the various Government departments inaugurated under the new régime. This he did with consummate ability, and for many years the public business of the colony was transacted on the lines he laid down. Mr. Younghusband was a director of the Bank of Australasia, and retired from the Legislative Council by rotation in Feb. 1861. He died at Rome in May 1863.

 Yuille, William Cross, was born at Cardross, Dumbartonshire on March 28th, 1819, and after spending three years in the West India firm of Jas. Ewing & Co., in Glasgow, emigrated to Tasmania, where he arrived in Dec. 1836. In February of the following year Mr. Yuille landed with a flock of merino sheep, at Point Henry, near Geelong, in the new settlement of Port Phillip. He took up a run at Murgheballoak on the Barwon River, and formed one of the search party organised to look for Messrs. Gellibrand and Hesse, who had disappeared, and were afterwards ascertained to have been murdered by the blacks. After doing much pioneering and exploration work in various parts of what is now the colony of Victoria, Mr. Yuille, in 1838, removed to the Ballarat district; and two years later, having sold his station there, went to New Zealand, where he was present at the ceremony of taking possession of those islands for the British Government by Governor Hobson, and the signing of the memorable treaty of Waitangi. Returning to Victoria Mr. Yuille embarked in squatting at Rockbank, on the Werribee plains, occupying the country from within a few miles of Williamstown to Mount Cotterell. There he owned and trained a number of successful performers on the Victorian turf, and after revisiting England several times, where he made fresh purchases, he settled in Williamstown in 1885, and reared numerous winners in his stables. Mr. Yuille was for many years one of the foremost men on the Victorian turf, being one of the stewards of the Jockey Club, handicapper to the Victoria Racing Club, and one of the leading members of Tattersall's committee, until his retirement in 1881. For six years he contributed to the Australasian under the soubriquet "Peeping Tom," and is the compiler of the "Australian Stud Book," which is recognised as the standard work of reference throughout the Australasian Colonies. 527


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Author:Francis Aidan Gasquet

Works

 * Henry VIII and the English Monasteries. 2 vols. (1888) A Revised Popular Edition, (1899, 1906 reprint)
 * Edward VI and the Book of Common Prayer, (1890) with Edmund Bishop
 * The eve of the Reformation; studies in the religious life and thought of the English people in the period preceding the rejection of the Roman jurisdiction by Henry VIII, (1900)
 * A little book of prayers from Old English sources 1900
 * English Monastic Life, (1904)
 * Lord Acton and his circle, (1906)
 * The Last Abbot of Glastonbury and Other Essays, (1908)
 * The Religious Life of King Henry VI
 * "Introduction" to The Plays of Roswitha, translated by Christabel G. Marshall (1923)

title: Author:Francis Aidan Gasquet


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Page:The Dictionary of Australasian Biography.djvu/544

 Zeal, Hon. William Austin, M.L.C., M.Inst.C.E., Postmaster-General, Victoria, comes of a Devonshire family, and was born on Dec. 5th, 1830. He has long been in practice in Melbourne as a civil engineer. He was elected to the Legislative Council of Victoria in 1882 for the North-Central province, and on the reconstruction of the Ministry in April 1892, was appointed Postmaster-General and representative of the Government in the Upper House. 528


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Zeal, Hon. William Austin


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Yuille, William Cross


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Younghusband, William


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Young, James Henry