text:
Vala, or The Four Zoas/Night the Seventh

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Then Urizen arose The Spectre fled & Tharmas fled The darkning Spectre of Urthona hid beneath a rock Tharmas threw his impetuous flight thro the deeps of immensity Revolving round in whirlpools fierce all round the cavernd worlds But Urizen silent descended to the Caves of Orc & saw A Cavernd Universe of flaming fire the horses of Urizen Here bound to fiery mangers furious dash their golden hoofs Striking fierce sparkles from their brazen fetters. fierce his lions Howl in the burning dens his tygers roam ill the redounding smoke In forests of affliction. the adamantine scales of justice Consuming in the raging lamps of mercy pourd in rivers The holy oil rages thro all the cavernd rocks fierce flames Dance on the rivers & the rocks howling & drunk with fury The plow of ages & the golden harrow wade thro fields Of goary blood the immortal seed is nourishd for the slaughter The bulls of Luvah breathing fire bellow on burning pastures Round howling Orc whose awful limbs cast forth red smoke & fire That Urizen approachd not near but took his seat on a rock And rangd his books around him brooding Envious over Orc Howling & rending his dark caves the awful Demon lay Pulse after pulse beat on his fetters pulse after pulse his spirit Darted & darted higher & higher to the shrine of Enitharmon As when the thunder folds himself in thickest clouds The watry nations couch & hide in the profoundest deeps Then bursting from his troubled head with terrible visages & flaming hair His swift wingd daughters sweep across the vast black ocean Los felt the Envy in his limbs like to a blighted tree [ page 78 ]

For Urizen fixd in Envy sat brooding & coverd with snow His book of iron on his knees he tracd the dreadful letters While his snows fell & his storms beat to cool the flames of Orc Age after Age till underneath his heel a deadly root Struck thro the rock the root of Mystery accursed shooting up Branches into the heaven of Los they pipe formd bending down Take root again whereever they touch again branching forth In intricate labyrinths oerspreading many a grizly deep Amazd started Urizen when he found himself compassd round And high roofed over with trees. he arose but the stems Stood so thick he with difficulty & great pain brought His books out of the dismal shade. all but the book of iron Again he took his seat & rangd his Books aroundt On a rock of iron frowning over the foaming fires of Orc And Urizen hung over Ore & viewd his terrible wrath Sitting upon an iron Crag at length his words broke forth Image of dread whence art thou whence is this most woful place Whence these fierce fires but from thyself No other living thing In all this Chasm I behold. No other living thing Dare thy most terrible wrath abide Bound here to waste in pain Thy vital substance in these fires that issue new & new Around thee sometimes like a flood & sometimes like a rock Of living pangs thy horrible bed glowing with ceaseless fires Beneath thee & around Above a Shower of fire now beats Moulded to globes & arrowy wedges rending thy bleeding limbs And now a whirling pillar of burning sands to overwhelm thee Steeping thy wounds in salts infernal & in bitter anguish And now a rock moves on the surface of this lake of fire To bear thee down beneath the waves in stifling despair Pity for thee movd me to break my dark & long repose And to reveal myself before thee in a form of wisdom Yet thou dost laugh at all these tortures & this horrible place Yet throw thy limbs these fires abroad that back return upon thee While thou reposest throwing rage on rage feeding thyself With visions of sweet bliss far other than this burning clime Sure thou art bathd in rivers of delight on verdant fields Walking in joy in bright Expanses sleeping on bright clouds With visions of delight so lovely that they urge thy rage Tenfold with fierce desire to rend thy chain & howl in fury And dim oblivion of all woe & desperate repose Or is thy joy founded on torment which others bear for thee Orc answer'd Curse thy hoary brows. What dost thou in this deep Thy Pity I contemn scatter thy snows elsewhere

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I rage in the deep for Lo my feet & hands are naild to the burning rock Yet my fierce fires are better than thy snows Shuddring thou sittest Thou art not chaind Why shouldst thou sit cold grovelling demon of woe In tortures of dire coldness now a Lake of waters deep Sweeps over thee freezing to solid still thou sitst closd up In that transparent rock as if in joy of thy bright prison Till overburdend with its own weight drawn out thro immensity With a crash breaking across the horrible mass comes down Thundring & hail & frozen iron haild from the Element Rends thy white hair yet thou dost fixd obdurate brooding sit Writing thy books. Anon a cloud filld with a waste of snows Covers thee still obdurate still resolvd & writing still Tho rocks roll oer thee tho floods pour tho winds black as the Seat Cut thee in gashes tho the blood pours down around thy ankles Freezing thy feet to the hard rock still thy pen obdurate Traces the wonders of Futurity in horrible fear of the future I rage furious in the deep for lo my feet & hands are naild To the hard rock or thou shouldst feel my enmity & hate In all the diseases of man falling upon thy grey accursed front Urizen answerd Read my books explore my Constellations Enquire of my Sons & they shall teach thee how to War Enquire of my Daughters who accursd in the dark depths Knead bread of Sorrow by my stern command for I am God Of all this dreadful ruin Rise O daughters at my Stern command Rending the Rocks Eleth & Uveth rose & Ona rose Terrific with their iron vessels driving them across In the dim air they took the book of iron & placd above On clouds of death & sang their songs Kneading the bread of Orc Orc listend to the song compelld hungring on the cold wind That swaggd heavy with the accursed dough. the hoar frost ragd Thro Onas sieve the torrent rain pourd from the iron pail Of Eleth & the icy hands of Uveth kneaded the bread The heavens bow with terror underneath their iron hands Singing at their dire work the words of Urizens book of iron While the enormous scrolls rolld dreadful in the heavens above And still the burden of their song in tears was poured forth The bread is Kneaded let us rest O cruel father of children But Urizen remitted not their labours upon his rock

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And Urizen Read in his book of brass in sounding tonest Listen O Daughters to my voice Listen to the Words of Wisdom So shall [ye] govern over all let Moral Duty tune your tongue But be your hearts harder than the nether millstone To bring the shadow of Enitharmon beneath our wondrous tree That Los may Evaporate like smoke & be no more Draw down Enitharmon to the Spectre of Urthona And let him have dominion over Los the terrible shade Compell the poor to live upon a Crust of bread by soft mild arts Smile when they frown frown when they smile & when a man looks pale With labour & abstinence say he looks healthy & happy And when his children Sicken let them die there are enough Born even too many & our Earth will be overrun Without these arts If you would make the poor live with temper With pomp give every crust of bread you give with gracious cunning Magnify small gifts reduce the man to want a gift & then give with pomp Say he smiles if you hear him sigh If pale say he is ruddy Preach temperance say he is overgorgd & drowns his wit In strong drink tho you know that bread & water are all He can afford Flatter his wife pity his children till we can Reduce all to our will as spaniels are taught with art Lo how the heart & brain are formed in the breeding womb Of Enitharmon how it buds with life & forms the bones The little heart the liver & the red blood in its labyrinths By gratified desire by strong devouring appetite she fills Los with ambitious fury that his race shall all devour Then Orc cried Curse thy Cold hypocrisy. already round thy Tree In scales that shine with gold & rubies thou beginnest to weaken My divided Spirit Like a worm I rise in peace unbound From wrath Now When I rage my fetters bind me more O torment O torment A Worm compelld. Am I a worm Is it in strong deceit that man is born. In strong deceit Thou dost restrain my fury that the worm may fold the tree Avaunt Cold hypocrite I am chaind or thou couldst not use me thus The Man shall rage bound with this Chain the worm in silence creep Thou wilt not cease from rage Grey Demon silence all thy storms Give me example of thy mildness King of furious hail storms Art thou the cold attractive power that holds me in this chain I well remember how I stole thy light & it became fire Consuming. Thou Knowst me now O Urizen Prince of Light And I know thee is this the triumph this the Godlike State That lies beyond the bounds of Science in the Grey obscure Terrified Urizen heard Orc now certain that he was Luvah And Orc began to Organize a Serpent body Despising Urizens light & turning it into flaming fire Recieving as a poisond Cup Recieves the heavenly wine And turning affection into fury & thought into abstractiont A Self consuming dark devourer rising into the heavens Urizen envious brooding sat & saw the secret terror Flame high in pride & laugh to scorn the source of his deceit Nor knew the source of his own but thought himself the Sole author

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Of all his wandering Experiments in the horrible Abyss He knew that weakness stretches out in breadth & length he knew That wisdom reaches high & deep & therefore he made Orc In Serpent form compelld stretch out & up the mysterious tree He sufferd him to Climb that he might draw all human forms Into submission to his will nor knew the dread result Los sat in showers of Urizen watching cold Enitharmon His broodings rush down to his feet producing Eggs that hatching Burst forth upon the winds above the tree of Mystery Enitharmon lay on his knees. Urizen tracd his Verses In the dark deep the dark tree grew. her shadow was drawn down Down to the roots it wept over Orc. the Shadow of Enitharmon Los saw her stretchd the image of death upon his witherd valleys Her Shadow went forth & returnd Now she was pale as Snow When the mountains & hills are coverd over & the paths of Men shut up But when her spirit returnd as ruddy as a morning when The ripe fruit blushes into joy in heavens eternal halls Sorrow shot thro him from his feet it shot up to his head Like a cold night that nips the root & shatters off the leaves Silent he stood oer Enitharmon watching her pale face He spoke not he was Silent till he felt the cold disease Then Los mournd on the dismal wind in his jealous lamentation Why can I not Enjoy thy beauty Lovely Enitharmon When I return from clouds of Grief in the wandring Elements Where thou in thrilling joy in beaming summer loveliness Delectable reposest ruddy in my absence flaming with beauty Cold pale in sorrow at my approach trembling at my terrific Forehead & eyes thy lips decay like roses in the spring How art thou Shrunk thy grapes that burst in summers vast Excess Shut up in little purple covering faintly bud & die Thy olive trees that pourd down oil upon a thousand hills Sickly look forth & scarcely stretch their branches to the plain Thy roses that expanded in the face of glowing morn

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Hid in a little silken veil scarce breathe & faintly shine Thy lilies that gave light what time the morning looked forth Hid in the Vales faintly lament & no one hears their voice All things beside the woful Los enjoy the delights of beauty Once how I sang & calld the beasts & birds to their delights Nor knew that I alone exempted from the joys of love Must war with secret monsters of the animating worlds O that I had not seen the day then should I be at rest Nor felt the stingings of desire nor longings after life For life is Sweet to Los the wretched to his winged woes Is given a craving cry that they may sit at night on barren rocks And whet their beaks & snuff the air & watch the opening dawn And Shriek till at the smells of blood they stretch their boney wings And cut the winds like arrows shot by troops of Destiny Thus Los lamented in the night unheard by Enitharmon For the Shadow of Enitharmon descended down the tree of Mystery The Spectre saw the Shade Shivering over his gloomy rocks Beneath the tree of Mystery which in the dismal Abyss Began to blossom in fierce pain shooting its writhing buds In throes of birth & now the blossoms falling shining fruit Appeard of many colours & of various poisonous qualities Of Plagues hidden in shining globes that grew on the living tree The Spectre of Urthona saw the Shadow of Enitharmon Beneath the Tree of Mystery among the leaves & fruit Reddning the Demon strong prepard the poison of sweet Love He turnd from side to side in tears he wept & he embracd The fleeting image & in whispers mild wood the faint shade Loveliest delight of Men. Enitharmon shady hiding In secret places where no eye can trace thy watry way Have I found thee have I found thee tremblest thou in fear Because of Orc because he rent his discordant way From thy sweet loins of bliss. red flowd thy blood Pale grew thy face lightnings playd around thee thunders hoverd Over thee, & the terrible Orc rent his discordant wayt But the next joy of thine shall be in sweet delusion And its birth in fainting & sleep & Sweet delusions of Vala The Shadow of Enitharmon answerd Art thou terrible Shade Set over this sweet boy of mine to guard him lest he rend

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His mother to the winds of heaven Intoxicated with The fruit of this delightful tree. I cannot flee away From thy embrace else be assurd so horrible a form Should never in my arms repose. now listen I will tell Thee Secrets of Eternity which neer before unlockd My golden lips nor took the bar from Enitharmons breast Among the Flowers of Beulah walkd the Eternal Man & Saw Vala the lilly of the desart. melting in high noon Upon her bosom in sweet bliss he fainted Wonder siezd All heaven they saw him dark. they built a golden wall Round Beulah There he reveld in delight among the Flowers Vala was pregnant & brought forth Urizen Prince of Light First born of Generation. Then behold a wonder to the Eyes Of the now fallen Man a double form Vala appeard. A Male And female shuddring pale the Fallen Man recoild From the Enormity & calld them Luvah & Vala. turning down The vales to find his way back into Heaven but found none For his frail eyes were faded & his ears heavy & dull Urizen grew up in the plains of Beulah Many Sons And many daughters flourishd round the holy Tent of Man Till he forgot Eternity delighted in his sweet joy Among his family his flocks & herds & tents & pastures But Luvah close conferrd with Urizen in darksom night To bind the father & enslave the brethren Nought he knew Of sweet Eternity the blood flowd round the holy tent & rivn From its hinges uttering its final groan all Beulah fell In dark confusion mean time Los was born & Enitharmon But how I know not then forgetfulness quite wrapd me up A period nor do I more remember till I stood Beside Los in the Cavern dark enslavd to vegetative forms According to the Will of Luvah who assumd the Place Of the Eternal Man & smote him. But thou Spectre dark Maist find a way to punish Vala in thy fiery South To bring her down subjected to the rage of my fierce boy

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The Spectre said. Thou lovely Vision this delightful Tree Is given us for a Shelter from the tempests of Void & Solid Till once again the morn of ages shall renew upon us To reunite in those mild fields of happy Eternity Where thou & I in undivided Essence walkd about Imbodied. thou my garden of delight & I the spirit in the garden Mutual there we dwelt in one anothers joy revolving Days of Eternity with Tharmas mild & Luvah sweet melodious Upon our waters. This thou well rememberest listen I will tell What thou forgettest. They in us & we in them alternate Livd Drinking the joys of Universal Manhood. One dread morn Listen O vision of Delight One dread morn of goary blood The manhood was divided for the gentle passions making way Thro the infinite labyrinths of the heart & thro the nostrils issuing In odorous stupefaction stood before the Eyes of Man A female bright. I stood beside my anvil dark a mass Of iron glowd bright prepard for spades & plowshares. sudden down I sunk with cries of blood issuing downward in the veins Which now my rivers were become rolling in tubelike formst Shut up within themselves descending down I sunk along The goary tide even to the place of seed & there dividing I was divided in darkness & oblivion thou an infant woe And I an infant terror in the womb of Enion My masculine spirit scorning the frail body issud forth From Enions brain In this deformed form leaving thee there Till times passd over thee but still my spirit returning hoverd And formd a Male to be a counterpart to thee O Love Darkend & Lost In due time issuing forth from Enions womb Thou & that demon Los wert born Ah jealousy & woe Ah poor divided dark Urthona now a Spectre wandering The deeps of Los the Slave of that Creation I created I labour night & day for Los but listen thou my vision I view futurity in thee I will bring down soft Vala To the embraces of this terror & I will destroy That body I created then shall we unite again in bliss Thou knowest that the Spectre is in Every Man insane brutish Deformd that I am thus a ravening devouring lust continually Craving & devouring but my Eyes are always upon thee O lovely Delusion & I cannot crave for any thing but thee not so The spectres of the Dead for I am as the Spectre of the Living For till these terrors planted round the Gates of Eternal life Are driven away & annihilated we never can repass the Gates

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Astonishd filld with tears the spirit of Enitharmon beheld And heard the Spectre bitterly she wept Embracing ferventt Her once lovd Lord now but a Shade herself also a shade Conferring times on times among the branches of that Tree Thus they conferrd among the intoxicating fumes of Mystery	5 Till Enitharmons shadow pregnant in the deeps beneath Brought forth a wonder horrible. While Enitharmon shriekd And trembled thro the Worlds above Los wept his fierce soul was terrifid At the shrieks of Enitharmon at her tossings nor could his eyes percieve The cause of her dire anguish for she lay the image of Death Movd by strong shudders till her shadow was deliverd then she ran Raving about the upper Elements in maddning fury She burst the Gates of Enitharmons heart with direful Crash Nor could they ever be closd again the golden hinges were broken And the gates broke in sunder & their ornaments defacd Beneath the tree of Mystery for the immortal shadow shuddering Brought forth this wonder horrible a Cloud she grew & grew Till many of the dead burst forth from the bottoms of their tombs In male forms without female counterparts or Emanations Cruel and ravening with Enmity & Hatred & War In dreams of Ulro dark delusive drawn by the lovely shadowt The Spectre terrified gave her Charge over the howling Orc

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But in the deeps beneath the Roots of Mystery in darkest night Where Urizen sat on his rock the Shadow brooded Urizen saw & triumphd & he cried to his warriors The time of Prophecy is now revolvd & all This Universal Ornament is mine & in my hands The ends of heaven like a Garment will I fold them round me Consuming what must be consumd then in power & majesty I will walk forth thro those wide fields of endless Eternity A God & not a Man a Conqueror in triumphant glory And all the Sons of Everlasting shall bow down at my feet First Trades & Commerce ships & armed vessels he builded laborious To swim the deep & on the Land children are sold to trades Of dire necessity still laboring day & night till all Their life extinct they took the spectre form in dark despair And slaves in myriads in ship loads burden the hoarse sounding deep Rattling with clanking chains the Universal Empire groans And he commanded his Sons found a Center in the Deep And Urizen laid the first Stone & all his myriads Builded a temple in the image of the human heart [ page 88 [96] ]

And in the inner part of the Temple wondrous workmanship They formd the Secret place reversing all the order of delight That whosoever enterd into the temple might not behold The hidden wonders allegoric of the Generations Of secret lust when hid in chambers dark the nightly harlot Plays in Disguise in whisperd hymn & mumbling prayer The priests He ordaind & Priestesses clothd in disguises beastial Inspiring secrecy & lamps they bore intoxicating fumes Roll round the Temple & they took the Sun that glowd oer Los And with immense machines down rolling. the terrific orb Compell'd. The Sun reddning like a fierce lion in his chains Descended to the sound of instruments that drownd the noise Of the hoarse wheels & the terrific howlings of wild beasts That dragd the wheels of the Suns chariot & they put the Sun Into the temple of Urizen to give light to the Abyss To light the War by day to hide his secret beams by night For he divided day & night in different orderd portions The day for war the night for secret religion in his templet Los reard his mighty stature on Earth stood his feet. Above The moon his furious forehead circled with black bursting thunders His naked limbs glittring upon the dark blue sky his knees Bathed in bloody clouds. his loins in fires of war where spears And swords rage where the Eagles cry & the Vultures laugh saying Now comes the night of Carnage now the flesh of Kings & Princes Pamperd in palaces for our food the blood of Captains nurturd With lust & murder for our drink the drunken Raven shall wander All night among the slain & mock the wounded that groan in the field Tharmas laughd furious among the Banners clothd in blood Crying As I will I rend the Nations all asunder rending The People, vain their combinations I will scatter them But thou O Son whom I have crowned and inthrond thee Strong I will preserve tho Enemies arise around thee numberless I will command my winds & they shall scatter them or call

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My Waters like a flood around thee fear not trust in me And I will give thee all the ends of heaven for thy possession In war shalt thou bear rule in blood shalt thou triumph for me Because in times of Everlasting I was rent in sunder And what I loved best was divided among my Enemies My little daughters were made captives & I saw them beaten With whips along the sultry sands. I heard those whom I lovdt Crying in secret tents at night & in the morn compelld To labour & behold my heart sunk down beneath In sighs & sobbings all dividing till I was divided In twain & lo my Crystal form that lived in my bosom Followd her daughters to the fields of blood they left me naked Alone & they refusd to return from the fields of the mighty Therefore I will reward them as they have rewarded me I will divide them in my anger & thou O my King Shalt gather them from out their graves & put thy fetter on them And bind them to thee that my crystal form may come to me So cried the Demon of the Waters in the Clouds of Los Outstretchd upon the hills lay Enitharmon clouds & tempests Beat round her head all night all day she riots in Excess But night or day Los follows War & the dismal moon rolls over her That when Los warrd upon the South reflected the fierce fires Of his immortal head into the North upon faint Enitharmon Red rage the furies of fierce Orc black thunders roll round Los Flaming his head like the bright sun seen thro a mist that magnifies His disk into a terrible vision to the Eyes of trembling mortals And Enitharmon trembling & in fear utterd these words I put not any trust in thee nor in thy glittering scales Thy eyelids are a terror to me & the flaming of thy crest The rushing of thy Scales confound me thy hoarse rushing scales And if that Los had Dot built me a tower upon a rock I must have died in the dark desart among noxious worms How shall I flee how shall I flee into the tower of Los My feet are turned backward & my footsteps slide in clay And clouds are closd around my tower my arms labour in vain Does not the God of waters in the wracking Elements Love those who hate rewarding with hate the Loving Soul

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And must not I obey the God thou Shadow of Jealousy I cry the watchman heareth not I pour my voice in roarings Watchman the night is thick & darkness cheats my rayie sight Lift up Lift up O Los awake my watchman for he sleepeth Lift up Lift up Shine forth O Light watchman thy light is out O Los unless thou keep my tower the Watchman will be slain So Enitharmon cried upon her terrible Earthy bed While the broad Oak wreathd his roots round her forcing his dark way Thro caves of death into Existence The Beech long limbd advancd Terrific into the paind heavens The fruit trees humanizing Shewd their immortal energies in warlike desperation Rending the heavens & earths & drinking blood in the hot battle To feed their fruit to gratify their hidden sons & daughters That far within the close recesses of their secret palaces Viewd the vast war & joyd wishing to vegetate Into the Worlds of Enitharmon Loud the roaring winds Burdend with clouds howl round the Couch sullen the wooly sheep Walks thro the battle Dark & fierce the Bull his rage Propagates thro the warring Earth The Lion raging in flames The Tyger in redounding smoke The Serpent of the woods And of the waters & the scorpion of the desart irritate With harsh songs every living soul. The Prester Serpent runs Along the ranks crying Listen to the Priest of God ye warriors This Cowl upon my head he placd in times of Everlasting And said Go forth & guide my battles. like the jointed spine Of Man I made thee when I blotted Man from life & light Take thou the seven Diseases of Man store them for times to come In store houses in secret places that I will tell the[e] of To be my great & awful curses at the time appointed The Prester Serpent ceasd the War song sounded loud & strong Thro all the heavens Urizens Web vibrated torment on torment

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Thus in the Caverns of the Grave & Places of human seedt The nameless shadowy Vortex stood before the face of Orc The Shadow reard her dismal head over the flaming youth With sighs & howling & deep sobs that he might lose his rage And with it lose himself in meekness she embracd his fire As when the Earthquake rouzes from his den his shoulders huge Appear above the crumb[l]ing Mountain. Silence waits around him A moment then astounding horror belches from the Center The fiery dogs arise the shoulders huge appear So Orc rolld round his clouds upon the deeps of dark Urthona	1 Knowing the arts of Urizen were Pity & Meek affection t	And that by these arts the Serpent form exuded from his limbs Silent as despairing love & strong as Jealousy Jealous that she was Vala now become Urizens harlot And the Harlot of Los & the deluded harlot of the Kings of Earth His soul was gnawn in sunder The hairy shoulders rend the links free are the wrists of fire Red rage redounds he rouzd his lions from his forests black They howl around the flaming youth rending the nameless shadow And running their immortal course thro solid darkness borne Loud sounds the war song round red Orc in his [? triumphant] fury And round the nameless shadowy Female in her howling terror When all the Elemental Gods joind in the wondrous Song Sound the War trumpet terrific Souls clad in attractive steel Sound the shrill fife serpents of war. I hear the northern drum Awake, I hear the flappings of the folding banners The dragons of the North put on their armour Upon the Eastern sea direct they take their course The glittring of their horses trapping stains the vault of night Stop we the rising of the glorious King. spur spur your clouds

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Of death O northern drum awake O hand of iron sound The northern drum. Now give the charge! bravely obscurd! With darts of wintry hail. Again the black bow draw Again the Elemental Strings to your right breasts draw And let the thundring drum speed on the arrows black The arrows flew from cloudy bow all day. till blood From east to west flowd like the human veins in rivers Of life upon the plains of death & valleys of despair Now sound the clarions of Victory now strip the slain clothe yourselves in golden arms brothers of war They sound the clarions strong they chain the howling captives they give the Oath of blood They cast the lots into the helmet, They vote the death of Luvah & they naild him to the tree They piercd him with a spear & laid him in a sepulcher To die a death of Six thousand years bound round with desolation The sun was black & the moon rolld a useless globe thro heaven Then left the Sons of Urizen the plow & harrow the loom The hammer & the Chisel & the rule & compasses They forgd the sword the chariot of war the battle ax The trumpet fitted to the battle & the flute of summer And all the arts of life they changd into the arts of death The hour glass contemnd because its simple workmanship Was as the workmanship of the plowman & the water wheel That raises water into Cisterns broken & burnd in fire Because its workmanship was like the workmanship of the Shepherd And in their stead intricate wheels invented Wheel without wheel To perplex youth in their outgoings & to bind to labours Of day & night the myriads of Eternity. that they might file And polish brass & iron hour after hour laborious workmanship Kept ignorant of the use that they might spend the days of wisdom In sorrowful drudgery to obtain a scanty pittance of bread In ignorance to view a small portion & think that All And call it Demonstration blind to all the simple rules of life Now now the Battle rages round thy tender limbs O Vala Now smile among thy bitter tears now put on all thy beauty Is not the wound of the sword Sweet & the broken bone delightful Wilt thou now smile among the slain when the wounded groan in the field

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Life up thy blue eyes Vala & put on thy sapphire shoes O Melancholy Magdalen behold the morning breaks Gird on thy flaming Zone. descend into the Sepulcher Scatter the blood from thy golden brow the tears from thy silver locks Shake off the waters from thy wings & the dust from thy white garments Remember all thy feigned terrors on the secret Couch When the sun rose in glowing morn with arms of mighty hosts Marching to battle who was wont to rise with Urizens harpst Girt as a Sower with his seed to scatter life abroad Arise O Vala bring the bow of Urizen bring the swift arrows of light How ragd the golden horses of Urizen bound to the chariot of Love Compelld to leave the plow to the Ox to snuff up the winds of desolation To trample the corn fields in boastful neighings. this is no gentle harp This is no warbling brook nor Shadow of a Myrtle tree But blood & wounds & dismal cries & clarions of war And hearts laid open to the light by the broad grizly sword And bowels hidden in hammerd steel rippd forth upon the Groundt Call forth thy Smiles of soft deceit call forth thy cloudy tears We hear thy sighs in trumpets shrill when Morn shall blood renew So sung the demons of the deep the Clarions of war blew loud Orc rent her & his human form consumd in his own fires Mingled with her dolorous members strewn thro the Abyss She joyd in all the Conflict Gratified & drinking tears of woe No more remaind of Orc but the Serpent round the tree of Mystery The form of Orc was gone he reard his serpent bulk among The stars of Urizen in Power rending the form of lifet Into a formless indefinite & strewing her on the Abyss Like clouds upon the winter sky broken with winds & thunders This was to her Supreme delight The Warriors mournd disappointed They go out to war with Strong Shouts & loud Clarions O Pity They return with lamentations mourning & weeping Invisible or visible drawn out in length or stretchd in breadth The Shadowy Female varied in the War in her delight Howling in discontent black & heavy uttering brute sounds Wading thro fens among the slimy weeds making Lamentations To decieve Tharmas in his rage to soothe his furious soul To stay him in his flight that Urizen might live tho in pain He said Art thou bright Enion is the Shadow of hope returnd And She said Tharmas I am Vala bless thy innocent face Doth Enion avoid the sight of thy blue watry eyes Be not perswaded that the air knows this or the falling dew Tharmas replid O Vala once I livd in a garden of delight

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I wakend Enion in the Morning & she turnd away Among the apple trees & all the gardens of delight Swam like a dream before my eyes I went to seek the steps Of Enion in the gardens & the shadows compassd me And closd me in a watry world of woe where Enion stood Trembling before me like a shadow like a mist like air And she is gone & here alone I war with darkness & death I hear thy voice but not thy form see. thou & all delight And life appear & vanish mocking me with shadows of false hope Hast thou forgot that the air listens thro all its districts telling The subtlest thoughts shut up from light in chambers of the Moon Tharmas. The Moon has chambers where the babes of love lie hid And whence they never can be brought in all Eternity Unless exposd by their vain parents. Lo him whom I love Is hidden from me & I never in all Eternity Shall see him Enitharmon & Ahania combind with Enion Hid him in that Outrageous form of Orc which torments me for Sin For all my Secret faults which he brings forth upon the light Of day in jealousy & blood my Children are led to Urizens war Before my eyes & for every one of these I am condemnd	20 To Eternal torment in these flames for tho I have the power To rise on high Yet love here binds me down & never never Will I arise till him I love is loosd from this dark chain Tharmas replied Vala thy Sins have lost us heaven & bliss Thou art our Curse and till I can bring love into the light I never will depart from my great wrath So Tharmas waild wrathful then rode upon the Stormy Deep Cursing the Voice that mockd him with false hope in furious mood Then She returns swift as a blight upon the infant bud Howling in all the notes of woe to stay his furious rage Stamping the hills wading or swimming flying furious or falling Or like an Earthquake rumbling in the bowels of the earth Or like a cloud beneath & like a fire flaming in high Walking in pleasure of the hills or murmuring in the dales Like to a rushing torrent beneath & a falling rock above A thunder cloud in the south & a lulling voice heard in the north And she went forth & saw the forms of Life & of delight Walking on Mountains or flying in the open expanse of heaven She heard sweet voices in the winds & in the voices of birds That rose from waters for the waters were as the voice of Luvah Not seen to her like waters or like this dark world of death Tho all those fair perfections which men know only by name In beautiful substantial forms appeard & served her As food or drink or ornament or in delightful works To build her bowers for the Elements brought forth abundantly The living soul in glorious forms & every one came forth Walking before her Shadowy face & bowing at her feet But in vain delights were poured forth on the howling melancholy For her delight the horse his proud neck bowd & his white mane And the Strong Lion deignd in his mouth to wear the golden bit While the far beaming Peacock waited on the fragrant wind To bring her fruits of sweet delight from trees of richest wonders And the strong piniond Eagle bore the fire of heaven in the night season Wood & subdud into Eternal Death the Demon Lay In rage against the dark despair. the howling Melancholy

[ page 87 [95] FIRST PORTION ]

For far & wide she stretchd thro all the worlds of Urizens journey And was Ajoind to Beulah as the Polypus to the Rock Mo[u]rning the daughters of Beulah saw nor could they have sustaind The horrid sight of death & torment But the Eternal Promise They wrote on all their tombs & pillars & on every Urn These words If ye will believe your B[r]other shall rise again In golden letters ornamented with sweet labours of Love Waiting with Patience for the fulfilment of the Promise Divinet And all the Songs of Beulah sounded comfortable notes Not suffring doubt to rise up from the Clouds of the Shadowy Female Then myriads of the Dead burst thro the bottoms of their tombs Descending on the shadowy females clouds in Spectrous terror Beyond the Limit of Translucence on the Lake of Udan Adan These they namd Satans & in the Aggregate they namd them Satan

[ page 95 [87] SECOND PORTION ]

Then took the tree of Mystery root in the World of Los Its topmost boughs shooting a fibre beneath Enitharmons couch The double rooted Labyrinth soon wavd around their heads But then the Spectre enterd Los's bosom Every sigh & groan Of Enitharmon bore Urthonas Spectre on its wings Obdurate Los felt Pity Enitharmon told the tale Of Urthona. Los embracd the Spectre first as a brother Then as another Self; astonishd humanizing & in tears In Self abasement Giving up his Domineering lust Thou never canst embrace sweet Enitharmon terrible Demon. Till Thou art united with thy Spectre Consummating by pains & labours That mortal body & by Self annihilation back returningt To Life Eternal be assurd I am thy real Self Tho thus divided from thee & the Slave of Every passion Of thy fierce Soul Unbar the Gates of Memory look upon me Not as another but as thy real Self I am thy Spectre Thou didst subdue me in old times by thy Immortal Strength When I was a ravning hungring & thirsting cruel lust & murder Tho horrible & Ghastly to thine Eyes tho buried beneath The ruins of the Universe. hear what inspird I speak & be silent If we unite in one[,] another better world will bet Opend within your heart & loins & wondrous brain Threefold as it was in Eternity & this the fourth Universe Will be Renewd by the three & consummated in Mental fires But if thou dost refuse Another body will be prepared

[ page 86 ]

For me & thou annihilate evaporate & be no more For thou art but a form & organ of life & of thyself Art nothing being Created Continually by Mercy & Love divine Los furious answerd. Spectre horrible thy words astound my Ear With irresistible conviction I feel I am not one of those Who when convincd can still persist. tho furious.controllable By Reasons power. Even I already feel a World within Opening its gates & in it all the real substances Of which these in the outward World are shadows which pass away Come then into my Bosom & in thy shadowy arms bring with thee My lovely Enitharmon. I will quell my fury & teach Peace to the Soul of dark revenge & repentance to Cruelty So spoke Los & Embracing Enitharmon & the Spectre Clouds would have folded round in Extacy & Love uniting

[ page 87 ]

But Enitharmon trembling fled & hid beneath Urizens tree But mingling together with his Spectre the Spectre of Urthona Wondering beheld the Center opend by Divine Mercy inspired He in his turn Gave Tasks to Los Enormous to destroyt That body he created but in vain for Los performd Wonders of labour They Builded Golgonooza Los labouring builded pillars hight And Domes terrific in the nether heavens for beneath Was opend new heavens & a new Earth beneath & within Threefold within the brain within the heart within the loins A Threefold Atmosphere Sublime continuous from Urthonas worldt But yet having a Limit Twofold named Satan & Adam But Los stood on the Limit of Translucence weeping & trembling Filled with doubts in self accusation beheld the fruitt Of Urizens Mysterious tree For Enitharmon thus spake When In the Deeps beneath I gatherd of this ruddy fruit It was by that I knew that I had Sinnd & then I knew That without a ransom I could not be savd from Eternal death That Life lives upon Death & by devouring appetite All things subsist on one another thenceforth in Despair I spend my glowing time but thou art strong & mighty To bear this Self conviction take then Eat thou also of The fruit & give me proof of life Eternal or I die Then Los plucked the fruit & Eat & sat down in Despair And must have given himself to death Eternal But Urthonas spectre in part mingling with him comforted him Being a medium between him & Enitharmon But This Union Was not to be Effected without Cares & Sorrows & Troubles Of six thousand Years of self denial and of bitter Contrition Urthonas Spectre terrified beheld the Spectres of the Dead Each Male formd without a counterpart without a concentering vision The Spectre of Urthona wept before Los Saying I am the cause That this dire state commences I began the dreadful state Of Separation & on my dark head the curse & punishment Must fall unless a way be found to Ransom & Redeemt But I have thee my [Counterpart Vegetating] miraculoust These Spectres have no [Counter(parts)] therefore they ravin Without the food of life Let us Create them Coun[terparts] For without a Created body the Spectre is Eternal Death Los trembling answerd Now I feel the weight of stern repentance Tremble not so my Enitharmon at the awful gates Of thy poor broken Heart I see thee like a shadow withering As on the outside of Existence but look! behold! take comfort! Turn inwardly thine Eyes & there behold the Lamb of God Clothed in Luvahs robes of blood descending to redeem O Spectre of Urthona take comfort O Enitharmon Couldst thou but cease from terror & trembling & affright When I appear before thee in forgiveness of ancient injuries Why shouldst thou remember & be afraid. I surely have died in pain Often enough to convince thy jealousy & fear & terrort Come hither be patient let us converse together because I also tremble at myself & at all my former life Enitharmon answerd I behold the Lamb of God descending To Meet these Spectres of the Dead I therefore fear that he Will give us to Eternal Death fit punishment for such Hideous offenders Uttermost extinction in eternal pain An ever dying life of stifling & obstruction shut out Of existence to be a sign & terror to all who behold Lest any should in futurity do as we have done in heaven Such is our state nor will the Son of God redeem us but destroy

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So Enitharmon spoke trembling & in torrents of tears Los sat in Golgonooza in the Gate of Luban wheret He had erected many porches where branchd the Mysterious Tree Where the Spectrous dead wail & sighing thus he spoke to Enitharmon Lovely delight of Men Enitharmon shady refuge from furious war Thy bosom translucent is a soft repose for the weeping souls Of those piteous victims of battle there they sleep in happy obscurity They feed upon our life we are their victims. Stern desire I feel to fabricate embodied semblances in which the dead May live before us in our palaces & in our gardens of labour Which now opend within the Center we behold spread abroad To form a world of Sacrifice of brothers & sons & daughters To comfort Orc in his dire sufferings[;] look[!] my fires enlume afresh Before my face ascending with delight as in ancient times Enitharmon spread her beaming locks upon the wind & said O Lovely terrible Los wonder of Eternity O Los my defence & guide Thy works are all my joy. & in thy fires my soul delights If mild they burn in just proportion & in secret night And silence build their day in shadow of soft clouds & dews Then I can sigh forth on the winds of Golgonooza piteous forms That vanish again into my bosom but if thou my Los Wilt in sweet moderated fury. fabricate forms sublime Such as the piteous spectres may assimilate themselves into They shall be ransoms for our Souls that we may live So Enitharmon spoke & Los his hands divine inspired began To modulate his fires studious the loud roaring flames He vanquishd with the strength of Art bending their iron points And drawing them forth delighted upon the winds of Golgonooza From out the ranks of Urizens war & from the fiery lake Of Orc bending down as the binder of the Sheaves follows The reaper in both arms embracing the furious raging flames Los drew them forth out of the deeps planting his right foot firm Upon the Iron crag of Urizen thence springing up aloft Into the heavens of Enitharmon in a mighty circle And first he drew a line upon the walls of shining heaven And Enitharmon tincturd it with beams of blushing love It remaind permanent a lovely form inspird divinely human Dividing into just proportions Los unwearied labourd The immortal lines upon the heavens till with sighs of love Sweet Enitharmon mild Entrancd breathd forth upon the wind The spectrous dead Weeping the Spectres viewd the immortal works Of Los Assimilating to those forms Embodied & Lovely In youth & beauty in the arms of Enitharmon mild reposing First Rintrah & then Palamabron drawn from out the ranks of war In infant innocence reposd on Enitharmons bosom Orc was comforted in the deeps his soul revivd in them As the Eldest brother is the fathers image So Orc became As Los a father to his brethren & he joyd in the dark lake Tho bound with chains of Jealousy & in scales of iron & brass But Los loved them & refusd to Sacrifice their infant limbs And Enitharmons smiles & tears prevaild over self protection They rather chose to meet Eternal death than to destroy The offspring of their Care & Pity Urthonas spectre was comforted But Tharmas most rejoicd in hope of Enions return For he beheld new Female forms born forth upon the air Who wove soft silken veils of covering in sweet rapturd trance Mortal & not as Enitharmon without a covering veil First his immortal spirit drew Urizen[s] Shadow away From out the ranks of war separating him in sunder Leaving his Spectrous form which could not be drawn away Then he divided Thiriel the Eldest of Urizens sons Urizen became Rintrah Thiriel became Palamabron Thus dividing the powers of Every Warrior Startled was Los he found his Enemy Urizen now In his hands. he wonderd that he felt love & not hate His whole soul loved him he beheld him an infant Lovely breathd from Enitharmon he trembled within himself

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End of the Seventh Night


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 Bowles Much use was made on both sides of the doctrinal statements and omissions in the catechism. This suit was the immediate occasion of the passing of the Dissenters' Chapels Act, 1844.

 BOWLES, GEORGE (1787–1876), general, colonel 1st West India Regiment, and lieutenant of the Tower of London, was second son of W. Bowles of Heale House, Wiltshire, and was born in 1787. He entered the army as ensign in the Coldstream guards in 1804, and served with that corps in the north of Germany in 1805-6, at Copenhagen in 1807, in the Peninsula and south of France from 1809 to 1814, excepting the winters of 1810 and 1811, and in the Waterloo campaign, being present at the passage of the Douro, the battles of Talavera, Salamanca, and Vittoria, the capture of Madrid, the sieges of Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajos, Burgos, and San Sebastian, the passages of the Nive, Nivelle, and Adour, the investment of Bayonne, the battles of Quatre Bras and Waterloo, and the occupation of Paris. When a brevet-major he served as military secretary to the Duke of Richmond in Canada in 1818-20, and as deputy adjutant-general in the West Indies from 1820to 1825. While with his battalion of the Coldstreams in Canada, as lieutenant-colonel and brevet-colonel, he commanded the troops in the Lower Province during the rebellion of 1838. He retired on half-pay in 1843. In 1845 Bowles, who while on half-pay had been comptroller of the viceregal household in Dublin, was appointed master of the queen's household, in succession to the Hon. O. A. Murray. A good deal of invidious feeling had arisen in connection with the duties of the office, and Bowles's appointment is said to have been made at the recommendation of the Duke of Wellington. He was promoted to the rank of major-general in 1846, and on his resignation of his appointment in the royal household, on account of ill-health, in 1851, was made K.C.B. and appointed lieutenant of the Tower of London. Bowles, who was unmarried, died at his residence in Berkeley Street, Berkeley Square, London, on 21 May 1876, in the ninetieth year of his age.

 BOWLES, JOHN (d. 1637). [See Bowle, John (d.1637) (DNB00).]

 BOWLES, PHINEAS (d. 1722), major-general, is first mentioned in the 'Military Entry Books' in January 1692, when he was appointed captain-lieutenant in the regiment of Colonel W. Selwyn, since the 2nd Queen's, then just arrived in Holland from Ireland (Home Off. Mil. Entry Books, vol. iii.) In July 1705 he succeeded Colonel Caulfield in command of a regiment of foot in Ireland, with which he went to Spain and served at the siege of Barcelona. According to memoranda of General Erie (Treas. Papers, vols. cvi. cxvi.), Bowles's was one of the regiments broken at the bloody battle of Almanza. It appears to have been reorganised in England, as Narcissus Luttrell mentions Bowles's arrival in England on parole, and afterwards that he was at Portsmouth with his regiment, awaiting embarkation with some troops supposed to be destined for Newfoundland. Instead, he again proceeded with his Regiment to Spain, where it was distinguished at the battle of Saragossa in 1710, and was one of the regiments surrounded in the mountains of Castile, and made prisoners after a gallant resistance, in December of the same year. After this Bowles's regiment disappeared from the rolls, and its colonel remained unemployed until 1715, when, as a brigadier-general, he was commissioned to raise a corps of dragoons, of six troops, in Berkshire, Hampshire, and Buckinghamshire, to rendezvous at Reading. This corps is now the 12th lancers. In 1719 Bowles was transferred to the colonelcy of the 8th dragoons. He died in 1722.

, lieutenant-general, son of the above, served long as an officer in the 3rd foot guards, in which he became captain and lieutenant-colonel in 1712 (Home Off. Mil. Entry Books, vol. viii.) He made the campaigns of 1710-11 under the Duke of Marlborough, and was employed in Scotland in 1715 during the suppression of the Earl of Mar's rebellion. In 1719, being then lieutenant-colonel, 12th dragoons, he succeeded his father as colonel, and commanded the regiment in Ireland until 1740. He became a brigadier-general in 1735, major-general in 1739, and a lieutenant-general 27 May 1745. He was also governor of Londonderry (, Magn. Brit. Not. 1745),

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210 B.C. 2,697, and great secrecy was observed as to how the silkworm was reared and how the cocoon was unwound; and Chinese laws forbade under penalty of death the divulgation of the secret and the exportation beyond the limits of the Celestial Empire of the seed of the mulberry and the eggs of the worm.

However, about three thousand years later, in the year A.D. 400, a Chinese princess married the King of Khotan on the borders of Turkestan, and she, at the peril of her life, carried off some of the grains of mulberry and the eggs of the caterpillar, and by this means introduced the culture of silk into the domains of the king. Some years later, in 462, Japan got possession of the means of sericulture by a similar method.

From Khotan the industry slowly spread to Persia and India.

A century and a half later, about 550, two monks of Mount Athos, but of Persian origin, went to preach Christianity in the unknown regions beyond the Caspian Sea. These courageous apostles penetrated to Khotan, and there discovered whence came the silk stuffs that found their way into Europe in small quantities, and which were so costly that they sold for their weight in gold.

Rejoiced at their discovery, the monks schemed how they might make Greece benefit by it. This, however, was not easy, as the inhabitants of Khotan, knowing the value of their industry, had, like the Chinese, forbidden the exportation of the seeds of the mulberry and the eggs of the silkworm. The monks employed craft. In all caution and secrecy they collected mulberries, crushed them in water, and obtaining thus the seed alone, dried it and enclosed it in their hollow


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Rh bamboo canes. Then they departed on their return journey. On reaching Greece they related their adventures and sowed the seed.

The young plants did not fail to spring up, and thus was Greece supplied with the precious tree that is today spread along all the coast of the Mediterranean.

But they had not done enough. Only half of their self-imposed task was accomplished. The Emperor Justinian sent for the monks, listened to their narrative, gave them money, and urged them to return into the East and obtain a supply of the bombyx grain. Nothing loath they started, arrived in Khotan, and in much the same manner as before secreted and brought to Europe in all haste the eggs that would hatch out in spring. The date of their return was 553.

Meanwhile the young mulberries had grown vigorously, and when the worms issued from their shells they found abundant nourishment. They passed through their several stages of development and gave vigorous descendants.

European sericulture was created, but was slow in making progress. However, in Greece the diffusion was so rapid that in a short time what had been called the Peloponnesus changed its name to Morea, the land of the mulberry. From the borders of the Ægean the culture spread to Sicily, to Italy, and to Spain. The Arabs, who had already in the East acquired a knowledge of how to produce silk, spread the industry through all the countries that they conquered.

France was slow in acquiring it. The raw silk was indeed imported to Lyons and Tours in the latter part of the fifteenth century, but it was not till after the campaign in Naples of 1495 that the gentlemen who


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212 had attended Charles VIII. brought back with them the seed of the white mulberry and the eggs of the silkworm into Languedoc and Provence. The first mulberries planted there were at Alban, near Montélimar, by Guy Pape, Sieur de Saint-Alban.

The first steps taken in this new culture were slow and timid during nearly a century. Francis I. accorded special favours. His successor, Henry II., is said to have been the first King of France to wear silk stockings, 1550. The religious troubles and the rivalries between the great seigneurs did much to impede the progress of agriculture and of sericulture. The cultivators of the soil were crushed by taxation and exactions of every sort, as well as by the ravages of rival political and religious factions.

But when Henry IV. was well settled on his throne, and the League was at an end, it was possible for agriculture and all the trades save that of the armourer to revive. Henry was keenly desirous to raise them from the deplorable condition into which they had been plunged during the long period of civil and religious discord which had marked the end of the dynasty of the Valois.

The Béarnais, who had spent his early years among farmers, nourished great ideas as to how to help them on and to make trade flourish in the land, so great as sometimes to startle his most devoted councillors, notably Sully, his finance minister. The King, seeing that the industry of weaving silks was on the increase, and that to supply the looms raw material had to be imported in great quantities, was desirous of encouraging the production of silk in France, and he confided to a gentleman of the Vivarais, Olivier de


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Rh Serres, the mission of developing sericulture by writing a treatise advocating it. De Serres published his "La cueillette de la soie" in 1599. Two years later he brought to Paris twenty thousand young mulberry trees, which were planted in the gardens of the Tuileries. At the same time Traucat, a gardener at Nîmes, with royal assistance, erected vast nurseries, which in forty years supplied over five millions of mulberry stocks. Sully, who had at first thought the King's projects chimerical, threw himself eagerly into them when he saw that they were likely to increase the wealth of the country; prizes were offered, subventions were promised to such as should take active part in the development of the industry. There exist still some of the old mulberry trees planted four centuries ago, that the Cevenol peasants designated Sullys in commemoration of the great minister of Henry.

Sericulture made no progress during the reign of Louis XIII. It lost ground, and it was Colbert, the celebrated minister of Louis XIV., who resumed forty years later the policy of Henry IV., and had to struggle against just the same difficulties of inertia and indifference among nobles and peasants alike. Colbert, following the same idea as his predecessors, wished that France should produce the raw material needed for the looms of Lyons, which were using 500,000 kilogrammes of foreign silk, whereas the French harvest produced at the outside 20,000 kilos of raw silk.

To attain this result, exemptions from taxation were accorded to plantations of mulberry trees and to magnanaries of silk. In the Langue d'Oc, the silkworm is called magnan, derived from the Latin magnus, as giving the greatest profit to the farmer, and the sheds in which


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214 the worm is brought to spin is called a magnanerie. A bonus of twenty-four sols, equal to five francs, was given for every mulberry plant that lived over three years. The Protestants of the south devoted themselves especially and with great energy to the rearing of silkworms. In 1650 De Comprieu, Consul of Le Vigan, introduced the new industry into the Cevennes from the Vivarais where it had taken root, due to the initiation of Olivier de Serres.

A few years later Colbert brought a silk-spinner, Pierre Benay, from Bologna and installed him near Aubenas, in a factory for the spinning of the thread.

The production of the cocoon and of silk was prospering and developing, when in 1605 the Edict of Nantes was revoked, and this disastrously affected the growing industry. The Protestants, hunted out and persecuted, were forced to expatriate themselves, and carry their knowledge and their energies elsewhere. The creation of silk-weaving factories in Switzerland, Germany, and England was mainly due to these refugees. Some 50,000 French Protestants had come to England. Of these the silk -spinners settled in Spitalfields, and introduced several new branches of their art. At this time foreign silks were freely imported, and about 700,000 pounds' worth were annually admitted. But the establishment of the refugees in this country led to monopolies and restrictions. In 1692 they obtained a patent, giving them the exclusive right to manufacture lute-strings and à-la-modes, the two fashionable silks of the day, and in 1697 their solicitations were effectual in obtaining from Parliament a prohibition, not only of the importation of all European manufactured goods, but also


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Low, Seth

LOW, SETH (1850-1916), American administrator and educationist (see 17.72), died at Bedford Hills, N.Y., Sept. 17 1916. In 1914 he was appointed by President Wilson as one of the arbitrators in the Colorado coal strike. He was delegate-at-large to the New York State constitutional convention in 1915, and was chairman of the committee on City government.

title: 1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Low, Seth


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Lowden, Frank Orren

LOWDEN, FRANK ORREN (1861-      ), American politician, was born at Sunrise City, Minn., Jan. 26 1861. After studying at Iowa State University (A.B. 1885) and the Union College of Law, Chicago (LL.B. 1887), he practised in Chicago for about 20 years. In 1899 he was professor of law at Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois. In 1900 he declined the first assistant postmaster-generalship, offered him by President McKinley, whom he had supported. He was a delegate to the Republican National Convention in 1900 and 1904, and from 1904 to 1912 was a member of the Republican National Committee. He was also a member of the executive committee in 1904 and 1908. In 1906 he was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives for the unexpired term of R. R. Hitt, deceased, and was re-elected for the terms of 1907-11. He declined to run for another term. He was governor of Illinois 1917-21, and was energetic in marshalling the resources of his state in support of America's war programme. In 1917, when the mayor of Chicago refused to interfere with a meeting of the People's Council, an organization accused of pro-Germanism, he ordered out the state troops to prevent the meeting. He introduced the budget system for state expenditure, thereby reducing the rate of taxation in spite of rising prices. He favoured woman suffrage and the enforcement of the Volstead Act for war-time prohibition. He was opposed to the League of Nations without reservations, on the ground that it would create a super-state. At the Republican National Convention in 1920 he had strong support for president. In the first four ballots he stood second; on the fifth he led with 303 votes (493 being necessary for nomination); on the sixth he tied for first place (311½ votes); on the seventh ballot he was second (311½ votes); on the eighth he again led (307 votes), but then to avoid a prolonged deadlock he released his delegates, who transferred their votes to Warren G. Harding, who was nominated on the tenth ballot.


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Rh of those of India and China. From this period the smuggling of silks from France became extensive, reaching, it is said, to the value of £500,000 per annum.

In France a disaster at the beginning of the eighteenth century gave a new impulse to sericulture in the south. The winter of 1709 was of exceptional severity, and froze the olive trees of Languedoc and Provence. The farmers, obliged to root out their stricken olives, replaced them by mulberries, and the rearing of silkworms, the spinning and weaving of the silk made rapid progress. From this time sericulture issued from a period of groping and hesitation to become a standard industry. The production of cocoons rose to six and seven millions of kilogrammes between 1760 and 1790, again to slacken during the period of revolution. Nor were the first years of the nineteenth century, marked as they were by the great wars of the Empire, favourable to the industry. But an event that had considerable influence on the destinies of agricultural France had taken place. The lands of the clergy and of the emigrated nobility had been declared national property, and had been sold at ridiculously low prices to the peasants on account of the depreciation of the paper money of the period, the assignats. The peasants worked with enthusiasm and energy on the land as proprietors where they had lived painfully as common labourers. Great plantations were made on ground newly cleared, and so soon as peace gave the people breathing time, the production of France doubled as by enchantment. From 500,000 kilogrammes, the output of silk passed to a million, between 1826 and 1830, and between 1840 and 1854 it grew to two millions.


text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Capella, Martianus Minneus Felix


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 The micocoulier, or nettle tree (Celtis Anstralis), is much grown around Quissac. This tree flourishes along the south of Europe bordering on the Mediterranean, in Italy, Greece, on the coast of Asia Minor, and stretches to the south of the Caspian. The tree is at home also in Algeria and Tunis. It is grown here for making whip-handles and for pitchforks. For the latter purpose it is suffered to have but two or three shoots at the top, and pains are taken to give the stem the utmost regularity, as that is to serve as the handle to the fork. Of the wood is also made the yokes for the oxen. The wood is heated in an oven, and given the desired bend or shape when hot.

Sauve bears for its arms argent a mountain, on top of which grows a plant of sage (sauve), and in chief the words Sal-Sal, that stand for Salvia Salvatrix. Originally the town occupied the height where is now the ruined castle, but the inhabitants drifted down to the abbey, which was below. In the religious wars, Sauve was taken by the Huguenots, and remained a stronghold of the Calvinists till 1629. In the war of the Camisards the Protestants of the upper town offered to open the gates to them disguised in the uniform of the royal soldiery, but the plot was detected, and in resentment the Camisards set fire to the abbey church and monastic buildings, murdered the old prior, aged ninety-one, and the curé, aged seventy. They swept together forty of the parish priests of the neighbourhood and mutilated them in the most horrible manner.

The country-house of the abbots of the fourteenth century has the inscription on it: "In urbe omnibus, in deserto mihi." (In the town I am at everybody's beck and call, in the desert I belong to myself only.)


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Lowell, Abbott Lawrence

LOWELL, ABBOTT LAWRENCE (1856-      ), American educationist (see 17.73), built for Harvard at his own expense a president's house, which was finished in 1912. From the time that he became president (1909) he took great interest in the social life of the students, and was specially desirous that members of the entering class should have the opportunity of becoming thoroughly acquainted. The result was the erection of an attractive group of dormitories in which all freshmen roomed and had their meals together (see also ). President Lowell was a strong supporter of free speech among the members of the faculty. After the outbreak of the World War in 1914 he refused to accept, in spite of considerable pressure, the resignation of Prof. Hugo Munsterberg, who had defended the German cause. In 1915 Prof. Kuno Meyer, of the university of Berlin, a prospective exchange professor to Harvard, sent a letter of protest because of the publication in one of the college magazines of a satirical poem, Gott mit Uns, by an undergraduate. In his reply President Lowell pointed out that freedom of speech was an important characteristic of American universities as distinguished from those in Germany. He was chairman of

the executive committee of the League to Enforce Peace, and later was a strong supporter of the League of Nations.

His brother (1855-1916), American astronomer (see 17.73), died at Flagstaff, Ariz., Nov. 12 1916. In 1910 he lectured in London before the Royal Institute and in Paris before the Association Astronomique.

His sister (1874-       ), American poet, was born in Brookline, Mass., Feb. 9 1874. She was an accomplished writer of vers libre and well known as a critic.


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216

The silkworm when first hatched is about a quarter of an inch long. After eight days' feeding, it prepares to change its skin. It throws out filaments of silk, attaching its skin to adjacent objects, becomes sluggish, raises the forepart of its body, and finally the whole outer case is cast off, including the feet and jaws. The newly moulted worm is pale in colour, but speedily regains its appetite, which had failed previous to the change, and it swells so fast that in five days another uncasing becomes necessary. Four of these moults and renewals of the skin bring the caterpillar to its full size, when its appetite becomes voracious, and the succulent parts of the mulberry leaf disappear with


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Loyson, Charles

LOYSON, CHARLES (1827-1912), better known as “Père Hyacinthe,” a famous French preacher, was born at Orleans in 1827. He was educated for the priesthood and entered the Carmelite order. His eloquence drew all Paris to his Advent sermons in Notre-Dame between 1865 and 1869, but his orthodoxy fell under suspicion, and in 1870 he associated himself with Dollinger's protest against the dogma of Papal infallibility (see 14.512, 20.67). Being excommunicated, he broke finally with the Church of Rome, and removed first to Geneva and then to London. He married an English lady, Emily Jane Merriman, and settled in Paris in 1877, where he founded an Old Catholic church. He died in Paris Feb. 9, 1912.


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Rh extraordinary rapidity. The insect is now nearly three inches long. Beneath the jaw are two small orifices through which the worm draws the silken lines out of its body.

Having acquired full size in the course of twenty-five to thirty days, and ceasing to eat during the remainder of its life, it begins to discharge a viscid secretion in the form of pulpy twin lines that rapidly harden in the air. It begins now to climb and seek out a suitable place for spinning the cocoon. For this purpose broom and heath-bushes are erected about the trays in which they have hitherto lived and fed and sloughed their skins. The insect first forms a loose structure of floss-silk, and then within it the closer texture of its nest, of an ovoid shape; within this the caterpillar remains working out of sight, spinning its own beautiful winding-sheet, the production of which reduces its size to one-half. On the completion of the cocoon it changes its skin once more and becomes a chrysalis. In this corpse-like state it remains for a fortnight or three weeks. Then it bursts its cerements and comes forth furnished with wings, antennae and feet for living in its new element—the atmosphere. The female moth flutters its wings, but rarely uses them for flight, but the male employs his for seeking a partner. As the moth is not furnished with teeth, it perforates its tomb by knocking with its head against the end of the cocoon, after moistening it with saliva, and thus rendering the filaments more easily torn asunder by its claws. In the perfect or imago form the insect takes no food, and lives only two or three days; the female dies after laying her eggs, and the male does not long survive her.


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226 The Marquess had three younger brothers. The elder, the Count de Ganges, does not enter into the story except towards its close. The second brother was the Abbé. This man was clever, cultured, of insinuating manners. He was not really in Holy Orders, but was one of those who at the period assumed a semi-ecclesiastical dress, and was given a benefice in commendam, the duties of which he never performed as unqualified, but the income of which he devoured. The third brother, the Chevalier, was a poor, weak creature, completely in the hands of the Abbé. The Marquess was much from home. He lived on bad terms with his wife; he found life dull in a little country town, and he liked the dissipation of a capital. He left his two younger brothers at the château, and placed the management of his estates in the hands of the Abbé.

According to Pitaval, both brothers fell in love with the far older Marquise, and the Abbé ventured to declare his sentiments towards her, and was repulsed with disdain so cutting as to fill him with resentment. Soon after M. de Nochères died, and left his vast fortune to his granddaughter in such a manner that her husband could not touch a penny of it without her consent. The Marquise at once had her will drawn up, bequeathing all her fortune to her mother, Mme. de Roussan, in trust for her children, but with the singular proviso that this old lady was to leave it entire to either one or other of her grandchildren, whichever she chose. When she deposited this will with the town councillor of Avignon, she added a codicil to the effect that in the event of her death and a later will being found this later will was to be regarded as invalid, as wrung from her against her intent, and that the


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Lydekker, Richard

LYDEKKER, RICHARD (1849–1915), English naturalist and geologist, was born in London July 25 1849. He entered Trinity College, Cambridge, where he took a first-class in the Natural Science tripos (1871). He joined the staff of the geological survey of India in 1874, remaining in this post till 1882. He became very widely known as a naturalist, and was elected a fellow of the Royal Society in 1894. His works include Catalogues (in 10 vols.) of the fossil mammals, reptiles and birds in the British Museum (1891); A Manual of Palaeontology (with Prof. H. A. Nicholson, 2 vols., 1889); Phases of Animal Life (1892); The Royal Natural History (with Sir W. H. Fowler, 8 vols., 1893–6); The Great and Small Game of India, Burma and Tibet (1900). He died at Harpenden April 16 1915.


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Rh above will was alone to take effect. This provision was witnessed by several persons of authority, and she insisted further that it should be kept secret and in no way divulged.

On her return to Ganges she was cheerful, saw a good deal of company, and seemed to be without suspicion of evil devised against her. What made her the more easy was that her stepmother was there, and in her presence the Abbé and the Chevalier were circumspect.

But before long the dowager marquise left for Montpellier, and her husband also departed. Since she had become an heiress he had feigned greater affection for her, and had treated her with courtesy. After his departure the Abbé had conferences with her. He assured her that the Marquess was deeply attached to her, but was wounded to the quick by her having made a will that passed him over; that the only possible way of concord being completely re-established was for her to alter the terms of her will.

The Marquise was a woman. She allowed herself to be persuaded, and under the dictation of the Abbé drew up a second will, whereby she constituted her husband sole heir. But she did not revoke the other, the former will deposited at Avignon, and the Abbé, knowing nothing of her final declaration made there to vitiate any second disposition of her property, was satisfied.

It is wholly unnecessary to accept the romance of the passion of the Abbé for his sister-in-law imported into the story by Pitaval, and for which no evidence was produced later. She was then aged twenty-nine, older than the two elder brothers. The fact of the will


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228 having been extorted from her, and the prospect of being able to share in the spoils should she die, is sufficient to account for what follows. The object of the Abbé now was to get rid of the Marquise.

She was not feeling well, and on the morning of May 17th, 1667, sent for the doctor, and asked for a draught. But when this was brought to her it looked dark and muddy, and she refused to drink it. It was not proved that this was poisoned, but it is not improbable that it was so. The Abbé and the Chevalier all day seemed restless, and were continually inquiring as to her condition, and seemed little pleased to learn that she was recovering from her indisposition.

The Marquise spent the day in bed. Several ladies of the town visited her, and she invited them to remain for dinner. She appeared in very good spirits; but it was noted that both her brothers-in-law spoke little and seemed distracted in mind. She joked the Chevalier about this, and he and the Abbé roused and attempted to talk, but manifestly with an effort. Nor would either of them eat. Presently the party broke up. The Abbé undertook the duties of host, and accompanied the ladies to the door of the château. The Chevalier remained behind with his sister-in-law. His manner was peculiar, he remained buried in thought. She asked him the reason, but could get no answer from him; then the door opened, the Abbé entered, and the solution to the puzzle was given.

So far we have the facts from the evidence of the witnesses before the Parliament of Toulouse; what follows is from the narrative of the Marchioness herself.

The Abbé entered the bedroom, a pistol in one hand and a tumbler with some dark turbid liquid in the other.


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Rh His features had changed expression. Rage flared from his eyes. He locked the door behind him, took his station before his sister-in-law, and signed to his brother, who drew his sword. At first it seemed to her that hesitation appeared in his face and movements, but if that were so, it passed rapidly away. The Abbé broke the silence. He stepped up to the bed and said: "Madame, you must die. Choose steel, lead, or poison."

She cried out, asking what she had done. She implored the two men to spare her. She promised to forget their conduct if they would withdraw. She turned to the Chevalier. She reminded him that she had frequently furnished him with money, and had recently given him a bill for several hundred livres. But in vain. He also spoke. "Enough, enough, Madame. Make your selection, or we shall choose for you."

The miserable woman took the glass out of the hand of the Abbé. She drank whilst he held the pistol to her breast, and the Chevalier menaced her heart with his rapier. Some drops falling on her bosom blistered it, and her lips were also blistered. The draught was a composition of arsenic and sublimate of mercury dissolved in aquafortis. The Chevalier noticed that she had not swallowed the dregs. He took a silver hairpin and swept all that remained attached to the side of the tumbler together into the bottom, and saying, "Be quick about it; drain to the last drop," forced her to take it. She received it into her mouth but did not swallow what she had taken, but sank back into the bed, and in convulsive movements turned away and covering her head with the bedclothes spat out what she had last taken. Then she exclaimed, "For God's sake do not slay my


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Lyons, Sir Joseph

LYONS, SIR JOSEPH (1848-1917), British caterer, was born in London Sept. 29 1848 and educated at the Borough Jewish school. In early life he studied painting and exhibited at the Royal Institute, but by 1886 he had turned to business enterprises, in conjunction with the brothers Isidore (d. 1920) and Montagu Gluckstein. He began by catering at public exhibitions. He next opened tea-shops in London, the first in 1894; 20 years later these numbered over 200 and provided cheap food for the large class of clerical workers and junior members of professions. Later he opened several restaurants of a more ambitious nature, as well as hotels on the “no-tipping” principle. He initiated the athletic side of the Territorial Army scheme, and, for his services in this direction, was knighted in 1911. He died in London June 22 1917.


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Smith, Theobald

SMITH, THEOBALD (1850-      ), American pathologist, was born at Albany, N.Y., July 31 1859. He was educated at Cornell (Ph.B. 1881) and at the Albany Medical College (M.D. 1883). In 1884 he was appointed director of the pathological laboratory of the Bureau of Animal Industry, in Washington, where for 11 years he investigated infectious animal diseases. At the same time he was professor of bacteriology at Columbian, later known as George Washington, University. From 1895 to 1915 he was director of the pathological laboratory of the Massachusetts State Board of Health, and after 1896 was professor of comparative pathology at Harvard. In 1915 he was appointed director of the department of animal pathology of the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research, New York. He

made important contributions to the relation between human and bovine tuberculosis.


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 Rh and told us how his predecessor had taken a fancy to him, as had his daughter likewise; and how he had become first his curate, and subsequently his successor. He had scarcely finished his story when his daughter returned through the garden, accompanied by the above-mentioned Herr Schmidt. She welcomed Charlotte affectionately, and I confess I was much taken with her appearance. She was a lively-looking, good-humoured brunette, quite competent to amuse one for a short time in the country. Her lover (for such Herr Schmidt evidently appeared to be) was a polite, reserved personage, and would not join our conversation, notwithstanding all Charlotte's endeavours to draw him out. I was much annoyed at observing, by his countenance, that his silence did not arise from want of talent, but from caprice and ill-humour. This subsequently became very evident, when we set out to take a walk, and Frederica joining Charlotte, with whom I was talking, the worthy gentleman's face, which was naturally rather sombre, became so dark and angry that Charlotte was obliged to touch my arm, and remind me that I was talking too much to Frederica. Nothing distresses me more than to see men torment each other; particularly when in the flower of their age, in the very season of pleasure, they waste their few short days of sunshine in quarrels and disputes, and only perceive their error when it is too late to repair it. This thought dwelt upon my mind; and in the evening, when we returned to the vicar's, and were sitting round the table with our bread and milk, the conversation turned on the joys and sorrows of the world, I could not resist the temptation to inveigh bitterly against ill-humour. "We are apt," said I, "to complain, but with very little cause, that our happy days are few, and our evil days many. If our hearts were always disposed to receive the benefits Heaven sends us, we should acquire


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 32 strength to support evil when it comes." "But," observed the vicar's wife, "we cannot always command our tempers, so much depends upon the constitution: when the body suffers, the mind is ill at ease." "I acknowledge that," I continued; "but we must consider such a disposition in the light of a disease, and inquire whether there is no remedy for it."

"I should be glad to hear one," said Charlotte: "at least, I think very much depends upon ourselves; I know it is so with me. When anything annoys me, and disturbs my temper, I hasten into the garden, hum a couple of country dances, and it is all right with me directly." "That is what I meant," I replied; "ill-humour resembles indolence: it is natural to us; but if once we have courage to exert ourselves, we find our work run fresh from our hands, and we experience in the activity from which we shrank a real enjoyment." Frederica listened very attentively: and the young man objected, that we were not masters of ourselves, and still less so of our feelings. "The question is about a disagreeable feeling," I added, "from which every one would willingly escape, but none know their own power without trial. Invalids are glad to consult physicians, and submit to the most scrupulous regimen, the most nauseous medicines, in order to recover their health." I observed that the good old man inclined his head, and exerted himself to hear our discourse; so I raised my voice, and addressed myself directly to him. "We preach against a great many crimes," I observed, "but I never remember a sermon delivered against ill-humour." "That may do very well for your town clergymen," said he: "country people are never ill-humoured; though, indeed, it might be useful, occasionally, to my wife for instance, and the judge." We all laughed, as did he likewise very cordially, till he fell into a fit of


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in flower and fruit pieces, some of the former being imitations of J. B. Monnoyer and J. van Huysum. Later in life he took to landscape-painting with some success. His residence at Halesowen brought him the friendship of Shenstone [q. v.], the poet, and of George, lord Lyttelton, both being neighbours. With another neighbour at Hagley, Anthony Deane, he became so intimate that he was received into his family as one of its members, and moved with them to Bergholt in Suffolk, and eventually to Bath. He was a good landscape-gardener. In 1760 he sent two paintings of fruit to the first exhibition of the Incorporated Society of Artists, and exhibited again in 1763 and 1765. On 8 Sept. 1796 he married at Burlington Miss Lister, a native of York. He eventually settled at Burlington, but thenceforth did little important work in painting, spending, however, much time in sketching tours with his wife. He died at York on 10 June 1807, in his seventy-third year. He was buried at Fulford, and a monument to his memory was put up in Castlegate Church at York. His widow published a memoir of him after his death, to which a portrait, engraved by W. T. Fry from a drawing by R. Hancock, is prefixed.

There are three water-colour landscapes by him in the print room at the British Museum, including a view of Sidmouth Bay. Some of his works were engraved, notably 'Partridges,' in mezzotint by Richard Earlom. He is sometimes stated to have been a brother of Valentine Green [q. v.], the engraver, but this does not appear to be the case.

Benjamin [q. v.] and seem to have been his brothers. The latter, probably a pupil of the eldest James Basire [q. v.], engraved plates from William Borlase's drawings for the 'Natural History of Cornwall' (1758), and also views for the 'Oxford Almanack,' besides some portraits, including one of Dr. Shaw, principal of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford (, Engl. Topography;, MS. History of English Engravers, Brit. Mus Addit. MSS. 33401)

 GREEN, BARTHOLOMEW or BARTLET (1530–1556), protestant martyr, was born in the parish of Basinghall, city of London. He was of a wealthy catholic family, and at the age of sixteen was sent by his parents, 'who favoured learning,' to Oxford, proceeding B.A. in 1547 (, Fasti, ed. Bliss, i. 125;, Reg. of Univ. of Oxford, i. 212). At the university he was a laborious student, and was converted by Peter Martyr's lectures to the protestant religion (, Acts and Monuments, ed. Townsend, vii. 731-46). On leaving Oxford Green entered the Inner Temple, and after a period of dissipation his earlier impressions revived, and he gave up his worldly amusements. His family were scandalised by his protestantism, and his grandfather, Dr. Bartlet, offered him bribes to abandon it. At Oxford Green had made friends with Christopher Goodman [q. v.], and on Easter Sunday 1554 took the sacrament with him in London before Goodman went beyond the seas (, Essays on the Reformation, 112). A letter from Green to Goodman was intercepted in 1555, in which he told his correspondent 'The queen is not dead.' It was read before the council, and Green was thrown into the Tower on a charge of treason, which broke down. He was then examined on religious questions before Bonner in November 1555. He was again sent back to prison (to Newgate), but was re-examined (15 Jan. 1555-6) before Bonner and Feckenham [q. v.] and condemned to be burnt. Foxe gives a detailed account of his martyrdom, and of the letters he wrote before his death. His character seems by all accounts to have been very amiable. A letter from one Careless to him when in prison addresses him as a 'meek and loving lamb of Christ.' He went cheerfully to the stake at Smithfield at 9 on 27 Jan. A priest, three tradesmen, and two women, were burnt with him.

 GREEN, BENJAMIN (1736?–1800?), mezzotint engraver, was born at Halesowen in Worcestershire about 1736. He was probably brother of Amos Green [q.v.], the flower painter, and John Green of Oxford, the line engraver. He became a member of the Incorporated Society of Artists, and contributed to its exhibitions from 1765 to 1774. He was a good draughtsman and became drawing-master at Christ's Hospital. He published many plates of antiquities drawn and etched by himself, and also engraved in line the views for the Oxford almanacs from 1760 to 1766, and the illustrations to Morant's 'History and Antiquities of the County of Essex,' published in 1768. Some of his plates after the works of George Stubbs, A.R.A., are good examples of mezzotint engraving They include 'Phaeton driving the Chariot of the Sun,' 'The Horse before the Lion's Den,' 'The Lion and Stag,' 'The Horse and the Lioness,' and an equestrian


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 Rh, which interrupted our conversation for a time. Herr Schmidt resumed the subject. "You call ill-humour a crime," he remarked, "but I think you use too strong a term." "Not at all," I replied, "if that deserves the name which is so pernicious to ourselves and our neighbours. Is it not enough that we want the power to make one another happy,—must we deprive each other of the pleasure which we can all make for ourselves? Show me the man who has the courage to hide his ill-humour, who bears the whole burden himself, without disturbing the peace of those around him. No: ill-humour arises from an inward consciousness of our own want of merit,—from a discontent which ever accompanies that envy which foolish vanity engenders. We see people happy, whom we have not made so, and cannot endure the sight." Charlotte looked at me with a smile; she observed the emotion with which I spoke: and a tear in the eyes of Frederica stimulated me to proceed. "Woe unto those," I said, "who use their power over a human heart to destroy the simple pleasures it would naturally enjoy! All the favours, all the attentions, in the world cannot compensate for the loss of that happiness which a cruel tyranny has destroyed." My heart was full as I spoke. A recollection of many things which had happened pressed upon my mind, and filled my eyes with tears. "We should daily repeat to ourselves," I exclaimed, "that we should not interfere with our friends, unless to leave them in possession of their own joys, and increase their happiness by sharing it with them! But when their souls are tormented by a violent passion, or their hearts rent with grief, is it in your power to afford them the slightest consolation?

"And when the last fatal malady seizes the being whose untimely grave you have prepared, when she lies languid and exhausted before you, her dim eyes


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portrait of George, lord Pigot. Besides these he engraved in mezzotint a few portraits, among which are those of Mrs. Baldwin, after Tilly Kettle, and Lieutenant-colonel Townshend, a small oval after Hudson. He died in London not later than 1800.

[Redgrave's Dict. of Artists of the English School, 1878; John Chaloner Smith's British Mezzotinto Portraits, 1878-83, pp. 529-31; Exhibition Catalogues of the Incorporated Society of Artists, 1765-74; Rev. Mark Noble's Continuation of Vertue's Catalogue of Engravers, MS. dated 1806.]  GREEN, BENJAMIN RICHARD (1808–1876), water-colour painter, born in London in 1808, was son of James Green [q. v.], the portrait-painter. He studied art in the schools of the Royal Academy, and painted both figures and landscapes, mostly in water-colour. He was elected in 1834 a member of the Institute of Painters in Water-Colours. Green was very much employed as a teacher of drawing and a lecturer. He exhibited frequently at the Royal Academy and the Suffolk Street exhibitions, beginning in 1832, and also at the various exhibitions of paintings in water-colours. In 1829 Green published a numismatic atlas of ancient history, executed in lithography; a French edition of this work was published in the same year. Green also published some works on perspective, a lecture on ancient coins, and a series of heads from the antique. He was for many years secretary of the Artists' Annuity Fund, and died in London 5 Oct. 1876, aged 68. In the South Kensington Museum there is a water-colour drawing by him of the 'Interior of Stratford-on-Avon Church.'

[Redgrave's Dict. of Artists; Graves's Dict. of Artists, 1760-1880; Bryan's Dict. of Painters and Engravers, ed. Graves; Brit. Mus. Cat.]  GREEN, CHARLES (1785–1870), aeronaut, son of Thomas Green, fruiterer, of Willow Walk, Goswell Street, London, who died in May 1850, aged 88, was born at 92 Goswell Road, London, on 31 Jan. 1785, and on leaving school was taken into his father's business. His first ascent was from the Green Park, London, on 19 July 1821, by order of the government, at the coronation of George IV, in a balloon filled with carburetted hydrogen gas, he being the first person who ascended with a balloon so inflated. After that time he made 526 ascents. On 16 Aug. 1828 he ascended from the Eagle tavern, City Road, on the back of his pony, and after being up for half an hour descended at Beckenham in Kent. In 1836 he constructed the Great Nassau balloon for Gye and Hughes, proprietors of Vauxhall Gardens, from whom he subsequently purchased it for 500l., and on 9 Sept. in that year made the first ascent with it from Vauxhall Gardens, in company with eight persons, and, after remaining in the air about one hour and a half, descended at Cliffe, near Gravesend. On 21 Sept. he made a second ascent, accompanied by eleven persons, and descended at Beckenham in Kent. He also made four other ascents with it from Vauxhall, including the celebrated continental ascent, undertaken at the expense of Robert Hollond, M.P. for Hastings, who, with Monck Mason, accompanied him. They left Vauxhall Gardens at 1.30 on 7 Nov. 1836, and, crossing the channel from Dover the same evening, descended the next day, at 7, at Weilburg in Nassau, Germany, having travelled altogether about five hundred miles in eighteen hours. On 19 Dec. 1836 he again went up from Paris with six persons, and on 9 Jan. 1837 with eight persons. The Great Nassau ascended from Vauxhall Gardens on 24 July, Green having with him Edward Spencer and Robert Cocking. At a height of five thousand feet Cocking liberated himself from the balloon, and descending in a parachute of his own construction into a field on Burnt Ash Farm, Lee, was killed on reaching the ground (Times, 25, 26, 27, and 29 July 1837). The balloon came down the same evening near Town Mailing, Kent, and it was not until the next day that Green heard of the death of his companion.

In 1838 Green made two experimental ascents from Vauxhall Gardens at the expense of George Rush of Elsenham Hall, Essex. The first took place on 4 Sept., Rush and Edward Spencer accompanying the aeronaut. They attained the elevation of 19,335 feet, and descended at Thaxted in Essex. The second experiment was made on 10 Sept., and was for the purpose of ascertaining the greatest altitude that could be attained with the Great Nassau balloon inflated with carburetted hydrogen gas and carrying two persons only. Green ascended with Rush for his companion, and they reached the elevation of 27,146 feet, or about five miles and a quarter, as indicated by the barometer, which fell from 30·50 to 11, the thermometer falling from 61° to 5°, or 27° below freezing point. On several occasions this balloon was carried by the upper currents between eighty and one hundred miles in the hour. On 31 March 1841 Green ascended from Hastings, accompanied by Charles Frederick William, duke of Brunswick, and in five hours descended at Neufchatel, about ten miles south-west of Boulogne.


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 34 raised to heaven, and the damp of death upon her pallid brow, then you stand at her bedside like a condemned criminal, with the bitter feeling that your whole fortune could not save her; and the agonising thought wrings you, that all your efforts are powerless to impart even a moment's strength to the departing soul, or quicken her with a transitory consolation."

At these words the remembrance of a similar scene at which I had been once present fell with full force upon my heart. I buried my face in my handkerchief, and hastened from the room, and was only recalled to my recollection by Charlotte's voice, who reminded me that it was time to return home. With what tenderness she chid me on the way for the too eager interest I took in everything! She declared it would do me injury, and that I ought to spare myself. Yes, my angel! I will do so for your sake.

6. She is still with her dying friend, and is still the same bright, beautiful creature whose presence softens pain, and sheds happiness around whichever way she turns. She went out yesterday with her little sisters: I knew it, and went to meet them; and we walked together. In about an hour and a half we returned to the town. We stopped at the spring I am so fond of, and which is now a thousand times dearer to me than ever. Charlotte seated herself upon the low wall, and we gathered about her. I looked around, and recalled the time when my heart was unoccupied and free. "Dear fountain!" I said, "since that time I have no more come to enjoy cool repose by thy fresh stream: I have passed thee with careless steps, and scarcely bestowed a glance upon thee." I looked down, and observed Charlotte's little sister, Jane, coming up the steps with a glass of water. I turned toward Charlotte, and I


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 Rh felt her influence over me. Jane at the moment approached with the glass. Her sister, Marianne, wished to take it. from her. "No!" cried the child, with the sweetest expression of face, "Charlotte must drink first."

The affection and simplicity with which this was uttered so charmed me, that I sought to express my feelings by catching up the child and kissing her heartily. She was frightened, and began to cry. "You should not do that," said Charlotte: I felt perplexed. "Come, Jane," she continued, taking her hand, and leading her down the steps again, "it is no matter: wash yourself quickly in the fresh water." I stood and watched them; and when I saw the little dear rubbing her cheeks with her wet hands, in full belief that all the impurities contracted from my ugly beard would be washed off by the miraculous water, and how, though Charlotte said it would do, she continued still to wash with all her might, as though she thought too much were better than too little, I assure you, Wilhelm, I never attended a baptism with greater reverence; and, when Charlotte came up from the well, I could have prostrated myself as before the prophet of an Eastern nation.

In the evening I could not resist telling the story to a person who, I thought, possessed some natural feeling, because he was a man of understanding. But what a mistake I made. He maintained it was very wrong of Charlotte,—that we should not deceive children,—that such things occasioned countless mistakes and superstitions, from which we were bound to protect the young. It occurred to me then, that this very man had been baptised only a week before; so I said nothing further, but maintained the justice of my own convictions. We should deal with children as God deals with us,—we are happiest under the influence of innocent delusions.