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 VISIONS VISIONS

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = His crimes forgive; forgive his virtues too. Young—Night Thoughts. Night IX. L. 2,290. | seealso = (See also {{sc|Tennyson) VISIONS Circa beatitudinem perfectam, qua? in Dei visione consistit. Concerning perfect blessedness which consists in a vision of God. Thomas Aquinas—Sumrna Theologie. Probably the origin of the phrase "beatific vision." And like a passing thought, she fled In light away. Burns—The Vision. Last lines. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme! The young men's vision, and the old men's dream! Dryden—Absalom and Achitophel. Pt. I. L. 238. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = So little distant dangers seem: So we mistake the future's face, Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass; As yon summits soft and fair, Clad in colours of the air, Which to those who journey near, Barren, brown, and rough appear. Dyer—Gronger Hill. L. 884. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul. Gray—The Bard. III. 1. L. 11. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang sweeter! I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the meter! I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed his ardent thought! Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his inmost heart portrayed! James C. Harvey—/ I have multiplied visions, and used similitudes. Hosea. XII. 10. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel, writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said— "What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head, And, with a look made all of sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." Leigh Hunt—AbouBen Adhem and the Angel. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions. Joel. II. 28. Acts. II. 17. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream, A blissful certainty, a vision bright, Of that rare happiness, which even on earth Heaven gives to those it loves. | author = Longfellow | work = Spanish Student. Act III. Sc.5. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = An angel stood and met my gaze, Through the low doorway of my tent; The tent is struck, the vision stays; I only know she came and went. | author = Lowell | work = She Came and Went. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. II. L. 628. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only. | author = Milton | work = Paradise Lost. | place = Bk. XL L. 763. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the past alone, I build My castles in the air. Thos. Love Peacock—Castles in the Air St. 1. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme, The air-built castle ; and the golden dream, The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame, And poet's vision of eternal fame. | author = Pope | work = Dunciad. | place = Bk. III. L. 9. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Where there is no vision, the people perish. Proverbs. XXLX. 18. | author = | work = | place = | note = | topic = | page = 839 }}

{{Hoyt quote | num = | text = Hence, dear delusion, sweet enchantment hence! Horace and James Smith—Rejected Addresses. An Address without a Phoenix. By"S. T. P." (Not an imitation. Initials used to puzzle critics.)


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text: Portal talk:Banksia prionotes

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 204


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103] the safety and prosperity of the Union, and that while this Legislature will be ever ready to afford its aid to any State against manifest usurpation or real encroachment upon its rights, it will also yield a reasonable confidence and support to all the departments of the National Government, so long as they continue in the rightful exercise of their constitutional powers.

Eighth. Resolved, That His Excellency the Governor be requested to transmit to the Governors of the several States of the Union, a copy of the foregoing report and resolutions.

47. Virginia on Jurisdiction of the Federal Courts.

February 19, 1821.

State sovereignty was aroused by the series of decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States, rendered during the years 1816–1824, asserting its jurisdiction and maintaining the powers of Congress. Virginia was especially prompt in condemning the principles asserted by the Court. Following the decision in the case of McCulloch v. Maryland (4 Wheaton, 316), in December, 1819, two different sets of resolutions, prefaced by long preambles protesting against the decision in this case, were introduced in the Legislature of Virginia. One of these suggested the procuring of an amendment to the Federal Constitution to establish a tribunal to decide cases in controversy between a State and the Federal Government, composed of representatives of both governments. (Niles, XVII, 310–314, 447.) Although neither of these resolutions were adopted at this time, the feeling of hostility to the Federal Court was further aroused by the case of Cohen v. Virginia, decided in 1821. (6 Wheaton, 264.) The writ issued by Chief Justice Marshall summoning the State authorities to appear before the Court in this case at once led to the renewed consideration of resolutions in the Legislature and to agitation in the press of the State. The report adopted by the House of Delegates, by a vote of 138 to 18, is printed in Niles, XX, 118–124. The resolutions of protest as finally adopted by both branches of the Legislature are given below. The following year resolutions proposing a series of amendments to the Constitution placing limitations upon the power and jurisdiction of the Federal Courts were defeated by a narrow margin in the Virginia House of Delegates. (Niles, XXI, 404.) The most noteworthy of the criticisms directed against these decisions, which appeared in the public press, were a series of articles written by Judge Roane of the Virginia Appellate Court, under the signature of "Algernon Sidney." His articles were published in the Richmond Enquirer in March, 1821. Of these Jefferson wrote: "I confess that they appeared to me to pulverize every word which had been delivered by Judge Marshall." (Letter of June 12, 1823; cf. post.) The correspondence of Jefferson during this period is filled with severe criticism upon the practices and opinions of the Federal


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 Book II. Rh


text: Portal talk:National Hurricane Center

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16 Judiciary. For his comments on the case of Cohen v. Virginia see his Writings (Ford ed.), X, 198–199, 226–232; Works, VII. 222, 223, 294–298; see also his expressions of alarm owing to the influence of the Judiciary, Writings, X, 140–143, 160, 161, 170, 177, 184, 189, 192, 200, 223, 224, 248, 259; Works, VII, 134, 192, 199, 216, 256, 278. For the more conservative views expressed by Madison in his correspondence with Judge Roane, Jefferson et al., see Works, III, 143–147, 217–222, 223, 224, 246, 291–293, 325–328; IV, 18, 47, 296, 297. For an account of the efforts made in Congress in 1821 to secure an amendment to the Constitution conferring upon the Senate appellate jurisdiction in certain cases see, Ames, Proposed Amendments, 161, 162; Annals of Congress, 17 Cong., 1 sess., 23–25, 68–92, 96–114. For comments on the case of Cohen v. Virginia see ''Const. History as seen in Amer. Law'', 85–90; Landon, 312, 313; McMaster, V, 414. Van Santvoord's Chief Justices, 466–469.

Resolved, as the opinion of the General Assembly of Virginia, that the Supreme Court of the United States does not possess appellate jurisdiction in any case decided by a State court.

That, even if this appellate jurisdiction did exist in cases decided in a State court, between individuals, a State cannot be made a party defendant to any suit before a federal tribunal commenced with a view to obtain a judgment against such State, or to reverse one obtained by it in a State court, or to any process or proceeding instituted in a Federal Court to correct or reverse a judgment entered in a State court for a penalty or punishment prescribed for the commission of any offence.

That a law passed by the Congress of the United States by virtue of that clause of the Constitution which gives to them the right of exclusive legislation over the District of Columbia has no greater force or effect out of the said District and within the limits of a State than the law of one State has within the limits of another State, or than a law of a State has within the District aforesaid.

Resolved, That the Supreme Court of the United States have no rightful authority under the Constitution to examine and correct the judgment for which the Commonwealth of Virginia has been "cited and admonished to be and appear at the Supreme Court of the United States," and that the General Assembly do hereby enter their most solemn protest against the jurisdiction of that Court over the matter.

[Acts of Virginia 1820–21, 142, 143. (Richmond, 1821.)]


text:
Rulah/18/02

Transcript
Caption: Double Danger! Both the vicious misfits who lust for luxury and an arch enemy of the valley; this is what Rulah, former American adventuress, at present a jungle goddess, is forced to combat in the fantastic "LAND OF GIANTS!"

Caption: Into the realm of the jungle goddess enters a familiar safari...

Rulah: (Thinking) Johnson, the explorer and his daughter Susan! Wonder what they seek this time?

title: Rulah/18/02


text:
Collier's New Encyclopedia (1921)/McKinley, William

McKINLEY, WILLIAM, an American statesman, 24th President of the United States; born in Niles, O., Jan. 29, 1843. He was educated at the public schools, and at the Poland, O., Academy. In May, 1861, he volunteered for the army, and entered the 23d Ohio Infantry as a private. He served four years, rising by merit and faithfulness to the captaincy of his company, and to the rank of major, when mustered out in 1865. He at once began the study of law; in 1867 was admitted to the bar, and commenced practice at Canton, O., where he afterward had his residence. In 1869 he was elected prosecuting attorney for Stark county, where his success attracted local attention. Entering politics, he was elected to Congress in 1876, and was re-elected for six successive terms. In 1882 his election was contested, and he was unseated, but triumphantly returned at the next election. His reputation in Congress rests chiefly on a tariff bill that bears his name. It was drawn by him as chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, and passed by the 51st Congress. This bill and his able advocacy of it before the House distinguished him as the leader of the Republican party on the tariff question. McKinley failed of re-election in his district in 1890, though largely reducing the adverse plurality created by a redistricting that changed the limits of the district.

In 1891 he was elected governor of Ohio by a large plurality, and re-elected in 1893. By this time his name

was frequently mentioned as a future candidate for the presidency. In 1895 a systematic canvass in McKinley's behalf was instituted by his supporters which was continued till the election of 1896. He was nominated on a platform which stood firmly against free silver, then the chief political issue. He was elected by a plurality of 603,514, and an electoral majority of 95.

President McKinley's first term is memorable chiefly for the occurrence of the Spanish-American War and its unexpected results (see ). That his policy during 1896-1900 was acceptable was shown by his unanimous renomination and re-election in 1900 by a plurality of 849,000, and an electoral majority of 137. On Sept. 5, 1901, he visited the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, N. Y., that day having been set apart in his honor and called the “President's Day.” On the afternoon of the following day, while holding a public reception in the Temple of Music, he was shot twice by Leon F. Czolgosz, an anarchist. Hopes of his recovery were entertained for several days, but on Sept. 13 he began to sink rapidly and died at 2.15 A. M., Sept. 14. His remains were removed to Washington on Sept. 16, laid in state in the Capitol on the 17th, and taken to his home city, Canton, O.

WILLIAM MCKINLEY


text:
Rulah/18/03

Transcript
Dr. Johnson: Ah, Rulah! We expected to find you here! You know my daughter, of course, and her fiance, Halleck! We're heading for the Elephants Graveyard...

Rulah: But that's forbidden country, Doctor!

Bearer #1: Aiee! Death Spear!

Bearer #2: Ahhhhh...

Rulah: Great Scott! The giants strike already!

Susan: Giants?

Rulah: Could this have been fired by a mere native? Oh, no! It came from the bow of some giant living in the Elephant's Graveyard.

Rulah: Someone warned them that you were coming!

Susan: Rulah! Dad! Hurray! Look at this dreadful thing!

Rulah: I have never met up with these giants, but it seems they are travelling!

Halleck: Amazing!

Susan: But there are no such things as... as giants!

title: Rulah/18/03


text: The Right to Ignore the State

title: The Right to Ignore the State


text:
Talk:The Right to Ignore the State

Text taken from a Distributed Proofreading project post-processed by me, Laverock. The source was the Freedom Press 1913 reprint of a single chapter from Social Statics - see the disclaimer at the start of the text. Project Gutenberg reference 34649.

title: Talk:The Right to Ignore the State


text:
Collier's New Encyclopedia (1921)/Wilson, James Grant

WILSON, JAMES GRANT, an American author; born in New York City, April 28, 1832; served in the Civil War. Besides numerous addresses, essays, and articles in periodicals, he published: “Biographical Sketches of Illinois Officers” (1862-1863); “Love in Letters, Illustrated in the Correspondence of Eminent Persons” (1867); “Life of General Grant” (1868-1885); “Life of Fitz-Greene Halleck” (1869); “Sketches of Illustrious Soldiers” (1874); “Poets and

Poetry of Scotland” (1876); “Centennial History of the Diocese of New York, 1775-1885” (1886); “Bryant and His Friends” (1886); “Commodore Isaac Hull and the Frigate Constitution” (1889); “ Life of General Grant” (1897); “The President of the United States” (1901); etc. He was the editor (with John Fiske) of “Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography” (6 vols. 1886-1889), and alone of “Memorial History of the City of New York.” He died in 1914.


text:
The Encyclopedia Americana (1920)/Wilson, James Grant

WILSON, James Grant, American author: b. Edinburgh, Scotland, 28 April 1832; d. 1914. He was brought to America in infancy by his father, William Wilson (q.v.), served in the Union army during the Civil War and reached the rank of brigadier general. After the war he settled in New York and in 1885 became president of the New York Genealogical and Biographical

Society. Among his numerous publications are ‘Biographical Sketches of Illinois Officers’ (1862-63); ‘Love in Letters, Illustrated in the Correspondence of Eminent Persons’ (1867); ‘Life of Fitz-Greene Halleck’ (1869); ‘Sketches of Illustrious Soldiers’ (1874); ‘Poets and Poetry of Scotland’ (1876); ‘Centennial History of the Diocese of New York, 1775-1885’ (1886); ‘Bryant and His Friends’ (1886); ‘Commodore Isaac Hull and the Frigate Constitution’ (1889); ‘Life of General Grant’ (1897); ‘The Presidents of the United States’ (1901); ‘Thackeray in the United States’ (2 vols., 1904. He was the editor (with John Fiske) of ‘Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography’ (6 vols., 1887-89; Vol. VII, 1900), and alone, of ‘Memorial History of the City of New York’ (1892-93).


text:
The Encyclopedia Americana (1920)/Wilson, William

WILSON, William, American poet: b. Perthshire, Scotland, 25 Dec. 1801; d. Poughkeepsie, N. Y., 25 Aug. 1860. He edited the Dundee Review, 1821-23, did newspaper work in Edinburgh, where he was a friend of the brothers Chambers, and coming to this country in 1833 established himself at Poughkeepsie as bookseller and publisher. His ‘Poems,’ edited by Lossing, appeared in 1870, and revised and enlarged editions in 1875 and 1884.


text:
The New International Encyclopædia/Wilson, James Grant

WILSON, (1832—). An American editor and author, born in New York City. He was educated chiefly by private tutors and through European travel, founded (1857) the Chicago Record, a journal of art and literature, and entered the Union Army as major and left it as brigadier-general (1865). He afterwards lived in New York, was a popular speaker, a frequent contributor to periodicals, president of the Society of American Authors, and, after 1885, of the New York Genealogical and Biographical Society. He edited Fitz-Greene Halleck's Poems (1868); A Memorial History of the City of New York (4 vols., 1892-93); Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography (6 vols., 1887-89, with John Fiske; vol. vii., 1900); and The Great Commanders Series (18 vols.). His chief books include: Bioqraphical Sketches of Illinois Officers (1862-63); Life of Fitz-Greene Halleck (1869);

Sketches of Illustrious Soldiers (1874); Poets and Poetry of Scotland (1876); Centennial History of the Diocese of New York, 1775-1885 (1886); Bryant and His Friends (1886); Commodore Isaac Hull and the Frigate Constitution (1889); Love in Letters (1896); Life of General Grant (1897); The Presidents of the United States, 1789-1901 (1902); and Thackeray in the United States (1903).


text:
The New International Encyclopædia/Wilson, William

WILSON, (1801-60). An English poet and publisher, born in Perthshire. At the age of twenty-two he became editor of the Literary Olio at Dundee, and in 1826 removed to Edinburgh, where he established himself in business and was a member of the literary circle of Christopher North. In 1832 he came to America and became a bookseller and publisher at Poughkeepsie, N. Y. He was the father of Gen. James Grant Wilson. He was a lifelong contributor of verse to the reviews of England and America, but never published his poetry in book form. A selection, edited by B. J. Lossing, appeared, however, in 1869.


text: Category:History of Victoria

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User:Eliyak/BlockHaiku

 Temptation was great. You vandalized Wikisource. Indefinite block.

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User talk:67.80.0.123

Your addition of the article Harry Potter has been deleted as out of scope. If you have questions leave a note on my talk page or at Scriptorium. Jeepday (talk) 00:34, 14 December 2010 (UTC)

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102 truth discovered by a great intellect illumines the way for future generations like a torch in the dark.

There was one other disciple of Socrates. Not long before, the impetuous Ctesippus had been one of the most frivolous and pleasure-seeking of the Athenian youths. He had set up beauty as his sole god, and had bowed bcforebefore [sic] Clinias as its highest exemplar. But since he had become acquainted with Socrates, all desire for pleasure and all light-mindedness had gone from him. He looked on indifferently while others took his place with Clinias. The grace of thought and the harmony of spirit that he found in Socrates seemed a hundred times more attractive than the graceful form and the harmonious features of Clinias. With all the intensity of his stormy temperament he hung on the man who had disturbed the serenity of his virginal soul, which for the first time opened to doubts as the bud of a young oak opens to the fresh winds of spring.

Now that the master was dead, he could find peace neither at his own hearth nor in the oppressive stillness of the streets, nor among his friends and fellow-disciples. The gods of hearth and home and the gods of the people inspired him with repugnance.

"I know not," he said, "whether ye are the best of all the gods to whom numerous generations have burned incense and brought offerings; all I know is that for your sake the blind mob extinguished the clear torch of truth, and for your sake sacrificed the greatest and best of mortals!"

It almost seemed to Ctesippus as though the streets and market-places still echoed with the shrieking of that unjust sentence. And he remembered how it was here that the people clamoured for the execution of the generals who had led them to victory against the Argunisæ, and how Socrates alone had opposed the savage sentence of the judges and the blind rage of the mob. But when Socrates himself needed a champion, no one had been found to defend him with equal strength. Ctesippus blamed himself and his friends, and for that reason he wanted to avoid everybody—even himself, if possible.

That evening he went to the sea. But his grief grew


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of the following poems have appeared in the ’S. Barnabas’ Parish Magazine.’ For my godchildren and my people I have made them up into a little bundle of sticks—a Christmas faggot to feed the fires in the winter palace of our King.

It is the Incarnation that justifies all joy, and song is the expression of joy. The Gospel Songs all celebrate the Great Nativity. Birth


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viii and marriage are the occasions most sacred to mirth and music among men; and Christmas is at once the Birthday and the Marriage Festival of Humanity.

Glad and thankful shall I be if any song of mine should help to fan the flame of rejoicing love in any Christian heart at this holy and happy season.


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 YULE TIDE.

Royal birthday dawns again,

A stricken world to bless;

And sufferers forget their pain,

And mourners their distress.

Love sings to-day; her eyes so fair

With happy tears are wet:

She is too humble to despair,

Too faithful to forget.


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2 Her voice is very soft and sweet,

Her heart is brave and strong;

Her vassal, I would fain repeat

Some fragments of her song.

A Birthday-song my heart would sing

Its rapture to express;

My Father’s son must be a king,

And share His consciousness.

Of God’s Self-knowledge comes the Word

That utters all His Thought;

That Word made Flesh by all is heard

Who seek as they are sought.


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4 Life’s harvest is not reaped until

The Christ within has grown

To perfect manhood, and self-will

By love is overthrown.

Such manhood gained concludes the strife

That makes the babe a boy;

’Tis thus the seed becomes a life,

The life becomes a joy.

The eyes that weep are eyes that see,

And swift are pilgrim-feet;

Ah! hope at length may come to be

Than memory more sweet.


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Rh So keeping festival to-day,

With children's laughter near,

It is not hard to sing and pray,

’Tis hard to doubt or fear.

Father, my heart to Thee I bring,

To Thee my song address;

From Winter pain and toil of Spring

Grows Summer happiness.


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Rh His seeking and His finding make

Our search an easy thing;

He sows good seed, and bids us take

The joys of harvesting.

Yet must His children do their part,

And what He gives accept;

No heart can understand His Heart

That has not bled and wept.

All seasons, bring they bale or bliss,

His priceless treasures hold;

The Winter’s silver all is His,

And His the Summer’s gold.


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68 We too what Simeon saw may see— The Mother undefiled, Our hearts enfold as blissfully The Everlasting Child!


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Rh Two guard the frowning gateway: one

Is of a solemn countenance;

To him a rapid backward glance

Reveals a massacre begun.

The other, forward gazing, sees

The glory of the age to come,

The fruitfulness of martyrdom,

Of deaths that are nativities.

O weeping mothers, dry your tears!

The Mother whom this canvass shows

Nor fears, nor weeps, although she knows

An anguish deeper than your fears.


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12 Behold the Prince of Peace! around

His cradle angry tempests rage;

He needs must go on pilgrimage,

An exile, homeless and discrowned.

And yet, His Rank to designate,

The unquenched Star of Bethlehem

Shines forth, a radiant diadem;

While Angels on His footsteps wait.

E’en now the Father’s Face they see,

A triumph-song e’en now they sing,

And, wondering and worshipping,

Attend His Pilgrim-Family.


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old through gates that closed on them

Two exiles went with eyes downcast;

The Present now retrieves the Past,

God’s Eden is in Bethlehem.

An Eden that no walls enclose

By Mary’s arms encompassèd,

A living shrine, a ’house of bread,’

A very haven of repose.


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14 She knows a comfort deeper still

For all who fare on pilgrimage;

By suffering from age to age

God seals the vassals of His Will.

Her Burden is upholding her;

And, guided by the Holy Dove,

She sees the victory of Love

Beyond the Cross and Sepulchre.

To shield her, Joseph stands; his care

The shadow of God’s Providence.

How fragrant is the frankincense

Of their uninterrupted prayer!


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Rh Through ever-open gates they press,

A new and living way they tread,

So gain they the true ’House of Bread,’

A garden for a wilderness.

A flight it seems to us; to them

It is a going forth to win

The world from Satan and from sin,

And build the New Jerusalem.

Lord Christ! for every seeking soul

Thou art Thyself the Door, the Way;

All, all shall find one coming day

Thy Heart their everlasting goal!


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 and affairs may dictate? Have we not within a year been forced to protect our citizens in China and Armenia, and were we able to hold aloof from the war between China and Japan? Does the United States intend to deny that the states of South America are independent states open to access by any other nations and liable to have any kind of friendly or unfriendly relations with European states such as any two independent states may have with each other? Does the United States hold aloof from the present development of Africa, assuming that Americans will never engage in commerce there or never have interests there; or does the United States assume that, when civilized powers are in control, it will be possible for everyone to carry on trade and industry there with peace and security? It is evident that if the answers to these questions are given which a great many people in this country have recently seemed disposed to give, the new doctrine of dual division of the globe is to take the place of the colonial doctrine of European headship of the world, as the cause of strife, bloodshed, and waste to the whole human race.

We are already living under a régime created by manipulation of import duties, by which prices for all the great manufactured products are raised here from twenty-five to fifty per cent above the prices in other civilized countries. The ground alleged for this policy is that wages are high here. Undoubtedly they are higher here than in western Europe, at least for unskilled laborers; this situation is accounted for by the facts about the land-supply which I discussed in the beginning of this essay. It is now proposed to restrict immigration into this country, and the favorite reason alleged is to close our labor market and make wages high. Then there is another proposition earnestly advocated; that is, to cut this continent off from


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  justifying their conduct, and on 12 Nov. declared them no longer ministers of the Scottish church. On 16 Nov. the four ministers put their names to a formal act of secession, and on 6 Dec. they constituted themselves an ‘associate presbytery.’ On 14 May 1734, however, the assembly, repenting their action, empowered the synods to reinstate the four ministers. Wilson was anxious for reconciliation, but further differences had arisen, especially through the support afforded by the assembly to patrons against the congregational veto. On 5 Nov. 1736 the associate presbytery appointed Wilson their professor of divinity, and on 15 May 1740 the seceders, now eight in number, were finally deposed. Wilson enjoyed the support of a large part of the people of Perth, who built a church for him and thronged to hear him. He was, however, deeply affected by the controversy and broken in health by his labours. He died at Perth on 8 Nov. 1741, and was buried at Perth, in Greyfriars' cemetery, where a monument was erected to his memory with an epitaph by [q. v.] Wilson married, on 20 June 1721, Margaret (d. 1742), daughter of George Alexander (d. 1713), an advocate, of Pepper Mill, Edinburgh. By her he had a son John, and two daughters, Isabella and Mary, who reached maturity.

Besides single sermons, Wilson published ‘A Defence of the Reformation Principles of the Church of Scotland,’ Edinburgh, 1739, 8vo; new ed. Glasgow, 1769, 8vo, and several collections of sermons: 2 and 3, with a few single sermons, were rebound in a larger collection, (4) ‘Sermons,’ Edinburgh, 1748, 8vo.
 * 1) ‘The Day of the Sinner's believing in Christ a most remarkable Day,’ Edinburgh, 1742, 12mo.
 * 2) ‘The Father's Promise to the Son, a clear bow in the Church's darkest Cloud,’ Edinburgh, 1747, 8vo.
 * 3) ‘The Lamb's retinue attending him whithersoever he goeth,’ Edinburgh, 1747, 8vo;

 WILSON, WILLIAM (1801–1860), poet and publisher, born in Perthshire on 25 Dec. 1801, was the son of Thomas Wilson, by his wife, Agnes Ross. At an early age he was imbued with a passionate love of poetry derived from his mother, who sang with great beauty the Jacobite songs and ballads of Scotland. While a schoolboy he lost his father, so that Wilson's early life was accompanied by many privations, including the completion of his education. At twenty-two he became the editor of the Dundee 'Literary Olio,' a large proportion of which, both in prose and verse, was from his pen. In 1826 he removed to Edinburgh, where he established himself in business. His contributions were welcomed in the 'Edinburgh Literary Journal,' thirty-two of his poems appearing in its columns in the course of three years. At this period the young poet was well known to the leading literary men of the day, including his kinsman Professor John Wilson ('Christopher North'), and he was a constant visitor at the house of Mrs. Grant of Luggan, who possessed his portrait by Sir John Watson Gordon, now owned by his son, General Wilson. In 1833 he removed to the United States and settled at Poughkeepsie, on the Hudson, where he engaged in bookselling and publishing, which he continued till his death. Wilson was the lifelong friend and correspondent of (1802–1871) [q. v.], and he was one of the few persons in the secret of the authorship of the 'Vestiges of Creation.' He died on 25 Aug. 1860. He was twice married: first, to Jane Mackenzie, and, secondly, in 1830, to the niece of (1745–1803) [q. v.]

In the New World Wilson occasionally contributed in prose and verse to American periodicals, and sometimes sent a contribution to 'Blackwood's,' 'Chambers's Journal,' and 'Fraser's Magazine.' Selections of his poems appeared in the 'Cabinet,' 'Modern Scottish Minstrel,' Longfellow's 'Poems of Places,' and his son's 'Poets and Poetry of Scotland;' but he never issued them in a volume nor even collected them, and it was not until 1889 that a portion of his poetical writings was published, with a memoir by Benson J. Lossing. A second edition with additional poems and a portrait appeared in 1875, and a third in 1881. Willis pronounced 'Jean Linn,' one of Wilson's poems, 'the best modern imitation of the old ballad


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 style that he had ever met with;' and Bryant said that 'the song in which the writer personates Richard the Lion-hearted during his imprisonment is more spirited than any of the ballads of Aytoun.' [Rogers's Modern Scottish Minstrel; Wilson's Poets and Poetry of Scotland, vol. ii.; Memoirs of William and Robert Chambers; Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography.]
 * J. G. W.

 WILSON, WILLIAM (1799–1871), botanist, second son of Thomas Wilson, a druggist, was born at Warrington on 7 June 1799. He was educated at Prestbury grammar school and under Dr. Reynolds at the Dissenters' Academy, Leaf Square, Manchester, and was then articled to a firm of solicitors in Manchester; but intense application to the study of conveyancing brought on headaches which were followed by serious illness. This led to his taking much outdoor exercise, in the course of which he acquired his love of botany, and ultimately, when he was about five-and-twenty, his mother gave him a small allowance so that he could devote himself entirely to this pursuit. As early as 1821 he had discovered the Cotoneaster on Great Orme's Head. This brought him into correspondence with Sir James Edward Smith [q. v.], who encouraged him to devote himself to botany. In 1827 Professor John Stevens Henslow [q. v.] introduced him to Professor (afterwards Sir William Jackson) Hooker [q. v.], and at the invitation of the latter he joined a five days' excursion of the Glasgow botanical students in the Breadalbane Hills. He afterwards spent nearly two years in Ireland, where, no doubt under Hooker's influence, he attached himself to the study of mosses, which from 1830 engrossed his whole attention. From 1829 onward he is frequently quoted in Hooker's ‘British Flora;’ and, becoming well known as a bryologist, he entered into correspondence with such specialists as Lindberg of Helsingfors and Schimper of Strasburg, and was entrusted with the description of the mosses collected in the voyages of the Erebus and Terror and the Herald, before the publication of his magnum opus. This work, the ‘Bryologia Britannica,’ intended as a third edition of the ‘Muscologia Britannica’ (first issued in 1818) of (Sir) W. J. Hooker and Thomas Taylor (d. 1848) [q. v.], ‘but substantially a new work of the highest merit’ (, Guide to the Literature of Botany, p. 241), was published in 1855 (London, 8vo), and was pronounced by Lindberg ‘one of the most exact works in botany.’ Nevertheless over a hundred new species of British mosses were added to the list between its publication and his death, and he is reported to have said that ‘the only thing he wished to live for was to bring out a revised edition,’ which, however, he was unable to do.

Wilson died at Paddington, two miles from Warrington, on 3 April 1871, and was buried in the nonconformist burial-ground, Hill Cliff, Warrington. He married in 1836 a widowed cousin, Mrs. Lane.

Besides the Cotoneaster, Wilson added a new species of rose, a fern, and many mosses to the British list, the rose Rosa Wilsoni being named after him by William Borrer, and the Killarney filmy fern named Hymenophyllum Wilsoni by Sir W. J. Hooker. Wilson described many new species of exotic mosses in the ‘Journal of Botany,’ his papers being enumerated in the Royal Society's ‘Catalogue’ (vi. 389, viii. 1249), and his herbarium and botanical correspondence preserved at the Natural History Museum.

[Cash's Where there's a Will there's a Way, 1873, p. 145.]  WILSON, WILLIAM (1783?–1873), canon of Winchester, born in 1782 or 1783, was the son of John Wilson of Kendal in Westmorland. He matriculated from Queen's College, Oxford, on 15 July 1801, and graduated B.A. on 30 May 1805, M.A. on 17 Dec. 1808, B.D. in 1820, and D.D. in 1824. He was a fellow of the college from 11 May 1815 to 1825, and filled the offices of dean and bursar in 1822. In 1829 he was senior proctor. He was ordained deacon in 1805 and priest in 1808, and in 1808 was curate of Colne Engaine in Essex. He was appointed headmaster of St. Bees grammar school on 5 Jan. 1811, and during his tenure of this office discovered grave abuses in the affairs of the school, especially in regard to the lease of the coal royalty in 1742. His efforts to obtain redress rendered his position untenable, and he was driven by the persecution of the governors to resign his post on 20 May 1816; but he had a large share in calling Lord Brougham's attention to the mismanagement of educational charities, and thus in bringing about their reform. In regard to the mining royalty, Sir William Lowther, second earl of Lonsdale, the representative of the original grantee, was ordered in 1827, by a decree of the lord chancellor, to pay into court 5,000l. for the benefit of the school.

On 28 July 1824 Wilson was instituted, on the presentation of Queen's College, to the vicarage of Holy Rood, Southampton, a benefice which he retained till his death.


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Ion (Talfourd)/Act III

Scene I
''A Terrace of the Temple. Clemanthe, Ion.''

CLEMANTHE.

Nay, I must chide this sorrow from thy brow, Or 'twill rebuke my happiness;—I know Too well the miseries that hem us round; And yet the inward sunshine of my soul, Unclouded by their melancholy shadows, Bathes in its deep tranquillity one image— One only image, which no outward storm Can ever ruffle. Let me wean thee, then, From this vain pondering o'er the general woe, Which makes my joy look ugly.

ION.

No, my fair one, The gloom that wrongs thy love is unredeem'd By generous sense of others' woe: too sure It rises from dark presages within, And will not from me.

CLEMANTHE.

Then it is most groundless! Hast thou not won the blessings of the perishing By constancy, the fame of which shall live While a heart beats in Argos?—hast thou not Upon one agitated bosom pour'd The sweetest peace? and can thy generous nature, While it thus sheds felicity around it, Remain itself unbless'd?

ION.

I strove awhile To think the assured possession of thy love With too divine a burthen weigh'd my heart And press'd my spirits down;—but 'tis not so; Nor will I with false tenderness beguile thee, By feigning that my sadness has a cause So exquisite. Clemanthe! thou wilt find me A sad companion;—I who knew not life, Save as the sportive breath of happiness, Now feel my minutes teeming, as they rise, With grave experiences; I dream no more Of azure realms where restless beauty sports In myriad shapes fantastic; dismal vaults In black succession open till the gloom Afar is broken by a streak of fire That shapes my name—the fearful wind that moans Before the storm articulates its sound; And as I pass'd but now the solemn range Of Argive monarchs, that in sculptured mockery Of present empire sit, their eyes of stone Bent on me instinct with a frightful life That drew me into fellowship with them, As conscious marble; while their ponderous lips— Fit organs of eternity—unclosed, And, as I live to tell thee, murmur'd "Hail! Hail! "

CLEMANTHE.

These are fancies, Which thy soul, late expanded with great purpose, Shapes, as it quivers to its natural circle In which its joys should lurk, as in the bud The cells of fragrance cluster. Bid them from thee, And strive to be thyself.

ION.

I will do so! I'll gaze upon thy loveliness, and drink Its quiet in;—how beautiful thou art!— My pulse throbs now as it was wont;—a being, Which owns so fair a glass to mirror it, Cannot show darkly.

CLEMANTHE.

We shall soon be happy; My father will rejoice to bless our love, And Argos waken;—for her tyrant's course Must have a speedy end.

ION.

It must! It must!

CLEMANTHE.

Yes; for no empty talk of public wrongs Assails him now; keen hatred and revenge Are roused to crush him.

ION.

Not by such base agents May the august lustration be achieved: He who shall cleanse his country from the guilt For which Heaven smites her, should be pure of soul, Guileless as infancy, and undisturb'd By personal anger as thy father is, When, with unswerving hand and piteous eye, He stops the brief life of the innocent kid Bound with white fillets to the altar;—so Enwreathed by fate the royal victim heaves, And soon his breast shall shrink beneath the knife Of the selected slayer!

CLEMANTHE.

'Tis thyself Whom thy strange language pictures—Ion! thou—

ION.

She has said it! Her pure lips have spoken out What all things intimate;—didst thou not mark Me for the office of avenger—me?

CLEMANTHE.

No;—save from the wild picture that thy fancy— Thy o'erwrought fancy drew; I thought it look'd Too like thee, and I shudder'd.

ION.

So do I! And yet I almost wish I shudder'd more, For the dire thought has grown familiar with me— Could I escape it!

CLEMANTHE.

'Twill away in sleep.

ION.

No, no! I dare not sleep—for well I know That then the knife will gleam, the blood will gush, The form will stiffen!—I will walk awhile In the sweet evening light, and try to chase These fearful images away.

CLEMANTHE.

Let me Go with thee. O, how often hand in hand In such a lovely light have we roam'd westward Aimless and blessed, when we were no more Than playmates:—surely we are not grown stranger Since yesterday!

ION.

No, dearest, not to-night: The plague yet rages fiercely in the vale, And I am placed in grave commission here To watch the gates;—indeed thou must not pass; I will be merrier when we meet again,— Trust me, my love, I will; farewell!

[Exit Ion.]

CLEMANTHE.

Farewell then! How fearful disproportion shows in one Whose life hath been all harmony! He bends Towards that thick covert where in blessed hour My father found him, which has ever been His chosen place of musing. Shall I follow? Am I already grown a selfish mistress, To watch his solitude with jealous eye, And claim him all? That let me never be— Yet danger from within besets him now, Known to me only—I will follow him!

[Exit.]

Scene II
An opening in a deep wood—in front an old grey altar.

Enter Ion.

ION.

O winding pathways, o'er whose scanty blades Of unaspiring grass mine eyes have bent So often when by musing fancy sway'd, That craved alliance with no wider scene Than your fair thickets border'd, but was pleased To deem the toilsome years of manhood flown, And, on the pictured mellowness of age Idly reflective, image my return From careful wanderings, to find ye gleam With unchanged aspect on a heart unchanged, And melt the busy past to a sweet dream As then the future was;—why should ye now Echo my steps with melancholy sound As ye were conscious of a guilty presence? The lovely light of eye, that, as it waned, Touch'd ye with softer, homelier look, now fades In dismal blackness; and yon twisted roots Of ancient trees, with whose fantastic forms My thoughts grew humorous, look terrible, As if about to start to serpent life, And hiss around me;—whither shall I turn?— Where fly?—I see the myrtle-cradled spot Where human love instructed by divine Found and embraced me first; I'll cast me down Upon that earth as on a mother's breast, In hope to feel myself again a child.

[Ion goes into the wood.]

[Enter Ctesiphon, Cassander, and other Argive youths.]

CTESIPHON.

Sure this must be the place that Phocion spoke of;— The twilight deepens, yet he does not come. O, if instead of idle dreams of freedom, He knew the sharpness of a grief like mine, He would not linger thus!

CASSANDER.

The sun's broad disk Of misty red, a few brief minutes since, Sank 'neath the leaden wave; but night steals on With rapid pace to veil us, and thy thoughts Are eager as the favouring darkness.

[Enter Phocion.] CTESIPHON.

Welcome! Thou know'st all here.

PHOCION.

Yes; I rejoice, Cassander, To find thee my companion in a deed Worthy of all the dreamings of old days, When we, two rebel youths, grew safely brave In visionary perils. We'll not shame Our young imaginations. Ctesiphon, We look to thee for guidance in our aim.

CTESIPHON.

I bring you glorious news. There is a soldier, Who, in his reckless boyhood, was my comrade, And though by taste of luxury subdued Even to brook the tyrant's service, burns With generous anger to avenge that grief I bear above all others. He has made The retribution sure. From him I learnt That when Adrastus reach'd his palace court, He paused, to struggle with some mighty throe Of passion; then call'd eagerly for wine, And bade his soldiers share his choicest stores, And snatch, like him, a day from Fortune. Soon, As one worn out by watching and excess, He stagger'd to his couch, where now he lies Oppress'd with heavy sleep, while his loose soldiers, Made by the fierce carousal vainly mad Or grossly dull, are scatter'd through the courts Unarm'd and cautionless. The eastern portal Is at this moment open; by that gate We all may enter unperceived, and line The passages which gird the royal chamber, While one blest hand within completes the doom Which Heaven pronounces. Nothing now remains, But that as all would share this action's glory, We join in one great vow, and choose one arm Our common minister. Oh, if these sorrows Confer on me the office to return Upon the tyrant's shivering heart the blow Which crush'd my father's spirit, I will leave To him who cares for toys the patriot's laurel And the applause of ages!

PHOCION.

Let the gods By the old course of lot reveal the name Of the predestined champion. For myself, Here do I solemnly devote all powers Of soul and body to that glorious purpose We live but to fulfil.

CTESIPHON.

And I!

CASSANDER.

And I!

ION. [Who has advanced from the wood, rushes to the altar, and exclaims]

And I!

PHOCION.

Most welcome! The serenest powers of justice, In prompting thy unspotted soul to join Our bloody councils, sanctify and bless them!

ION.

The gods have prompted me; for they have given One dreadful voice to all things which should be Else dumb or musical; and I rejoice To step from the grim round of waking dreams Into this fellowship which makes all clear. Wilt trust me, Ctesiphon?

CTESIPHON.

Yes; but we waste The precious minutes in vain talk: if lots Must guide us, have ye scrolls?

PHOCION.

Cassander has them: The flickering light of yonder glade will sarve him To inscribe them with our names. Be quick, Cassander!

CTESIPHON.

I wear a casque, beneath whose iron circlet My father's dark hairs whiten'd; let it hold The names of his avengers!

[Ctesiphon takes off his helmet and gives it to Cassander, who retires with it.]

PHOCION. [to Ctesiphon.]

He whose name Thou shalt draw first shall fill the post of glory. Were it not also well, the second name Should designate another charged to take The same great office, if the first should leave His work imperfect?

CTESIPHON.

There can scarce be need; Yet as thou wilt. May the first chance be mine; I will leave little for a second arm!

[Cassander returns with the helmet.]

CTESIPHON.

Now, gods, decide!

[Ctesiphon draws a lot from the helmet.]

PHOCION.

The name? Why dost thou pause?

CTESIPHON.

'Tis Ion!

ION.

Well I knew it would be mine!

[Ctesiphon draws another lot.]

CTESIPHON.

Phocion! it will be thine to strike him dead If he should prove faint-hearted.

PHOCION.

With my life I'll answer for his constancy.

CTESIPHON. [to Ion.]

Thy hand! 'Tis cold as death.

ION.

Yes; but it is as firm. What ceremony next?

[Ctesiphon leads Ion to the altar, and gives him a knife.]

CTESIPHON.

Receive this steel, For ages dedicate in my sad home To sacrificial uses; grasp it nobly, And consecrate it to untrembling service Against the king of Argos and his race.

ION.

His race! Is he not left alone on earth? He hath no brother, and no child.

CTESIPHON.

Such words The god hath used who never speaks in vain.

PHOCION.

There were old rumours of an infant born And strangely vanishing;—a tale of guilt Half-hush'd, perchance distorted in the hushing, And by the wise scarce heeded, for they deem'd it One of a thousand guilty histories, Which, if the walls of palaces could speak, Would show that, nursed by prideful luxury, To pamper which the virtuous peasant toils, Crimes grow unpunish'd which the pirates' nest, Or want's foul hovel, or the cell which justice Keeps for unlicensed guilt, would startle at! We must root out the stock, that no stray scion Renew the tree, whose branches, stifling virtue, Shed poison-dews on joy.

[Ion approaches the altar, and, lifting up the knife, speaks.]

ION.

Ye eldest gods, Who in no statues of exactest form Are palpable; who shun the azure heights Of beautiful Olympus, and the sound Of ever-young Apollo's minstrelsy; Yet, mindful of the empire which ye held Over dim Chaos, keep revengeful wrath On falling nations, and on kingly lines About to sink for ever; ye, who shed Into the passions of earth's giant brood And their fierce usages the sense of justice; Who clothe the fated battlements of tyranny With blackness as a funeral pall, and breathe Through the proud halls of time-embolden'd guilt Portents of ruin, hear me!—In your presence, For now I feel ye nigh, I dedicate This arm to the destruction of the king And of his race! O keep me pitiless; Expel all human weakness from my frame, That this keen weapon shake not when his heart Should feel its point; and if he has a child Whose blood is needful to the sacrifice My country asks, harden my soul to shed it!— Was not that thunder?

CTESIPHON.

No; I heard no sound. Now mark me, Ion!—thou shalt straight be led To the king's chamber; we shall be at hand; Nothing can give thee pause. Hold! one should watch The city's eastern portal, lest the troops, Returning from the work of plunder home, Surround us unprepared. [To Phocion.] Be that thy duty.

PHOCION.

I am to second Ion if he fail.

CTESIPHON.

He cannot fail;—I shall be nigh. What, Ion!

ION.

Who spake to me? Where am I? Friends, your pardon: I am prepared; yet grant me for a moment, One little moment, to be left alone.

CTESIPHON.

Be brief then, or the season of revenge Will pass. At yonder thicket we'll expect thee.

[Exeunt all but Ion.]

ION.

Methinks I breathe more freely, now my lot Is palpable, and mortals gird me round, Though my soul owns no sympathy with theirs. Some one approaches—I must hide this knife— Hide! I have ne'er till now had aught to hide From any human eye. [He conceals the knife in hit vest.]

[Enter Clemahthe.]

Clemanthe here!

CLEMANTHE.

Forgive me that I break upon thee thus: I meant to watch thy steps unseen; but night Is thickening; thou art haunted by sad fancies, And 'tis more terrible to think upon thee Wandering with such companions in thy bosom, Than in the peril thou art wont to seek Beside the bed of death.

ION.

Death, sayst thou? Death? Is it not righteous when the gods decree it? And brief its sharpest agony? Yet, fairest, It is no theme for thee. Go in at once, And think of it no more.

CLEMANTHE.

Not without thee. Indeed thou art not well; thy hands are marble; Thine eyes are fix'd; let me support thee, love:— Ha! what is that gleaming within thy vest? A knife! Tell me its purpose, Ion!

ION.

No; My oath forbids.

CLEMANTHE.

An oath! O gentle Ion, What can have link'd thee to a cause which needs A stronger cement than a good man's word? There's danger in it. Wilt thou keep it from me?

ION.

Alas, I must. Thou wilt know all full soon— [Voices call "Ion!"] Hark! I am call'd.

CLEMANTHE.

Nay, do not leave me thus.

ION.

'Tis very sad [voices again]—I dare not stay—farewell! [Exit.]

CLEMANTHE.

It must be to Adrastus that he hastes! If by his hand the fated tyrant die, Austere remembrance of the deed will hang Upon his delicate spirit like a cloud, And tinge its world of happy images With hues of horror. Shall I to the palace, And, as the price of my disclosure, claim His safety? No!—'Tis never woman's part Out of her fond misgivings to perplex The fortunes of the man to whom she cleaves; 'Tis hers to weave all that she has of fair And bright in the dark meshes of their web Inseparate from their windings. My poor heart Hath found its refuge in a hero's love, Whatever destiny his generous soul Shape for him;—'tis its duty to be still, And trust him till it bound or break with his. [Exit.]

Scene III
A Chamber in the Temple.

Enter Medon, followed by Abra.

MEDON.

My daughter not within the temple, sayst thou? Abroad at such an hour? Sure not alone She wander'd: tell me truly, did not Phocion Or Ion bear her company? 'twas Ion— Confess;—was it not he? I shall not chide, Indeed I shall not.

ABRA.

She went forth alone; But it is true that Ion just before Had taken the same path.

MEDON.

It was to meet him. I would they were return'd; the night is grown Of an unusual blackness. Some one comes— Look if it be my daughter.

ABRA. [looking out]         No; young Irus, The little slave, whose pretty tale of grief Agenor, with so gracious a respect, This morning told us.

MEDON.

Let him come; he bears Some message from his master.

[Enter Irus.]

MEDON. [to Irus.]

Thou art pale: Has any evil happen'd to Agenor?

IRUS.

No, my good lord; I do not come from him; I bear to thee a scroll from one who now Is number'd with the dead; he was my kinsman, But I had never seen him till he lay Upon his death-bed; for he left these shores Long before I was born, and no one knew His place of exile;—on this mournful day He landed, was plague-stricken, and expired. My gentle master gave me leave to tend His else unsolaced death-bed;—when he found The clammy chilness of the grave steal on, He call'd for parchment, and with trembling hand, That seem'd to gather firmness from its task, Wrote earnestly; conjured me take the scroll Instant to thee; and died.

[Irus gives a scroll to Medon.]

MEDON. [reading the scroll]

These are high tidings. Abra! is not Clemanthe come? I long To tell her all.

[Enter Clemanthe.]

MEDON.

Sit down, my pensive child. Abra, this boy is faint; see him refreshed With food and wine before thou lett'st him pass.

IRUS.

I have too long been absent from Agenor, Who needs my slender help.

MEDON.

Nay, I will use Thy master's firmness here, and use it so As he would use it. Keep him prisoner, Abra, Till he has done my bidding.

[Exeunt Abra and Irus.]

Now, Clemanthe, Though thou hast play'd the truant and the rebel, I will not be too strict in my award, By keeping from thee news of one to thee Most dear—nay, do not blush—I say most dear.

CLEMANTHE.

It is of Ion;—no—I do not blush, But tremble. O my father, what of Ion?

MEDON.

How often have we guess'd his lineage noble! And now 'tis proved. The kinsman of that youth Was with another hired to murder him A babe;—they tore him from his mother's breast, And to a sea-girt summit, where a rock O'erhung a chasm, by the surge's force Made terrible, rush'd with him. As the gods In mercy order'd it, the foremost ruffian, Who bore no burden, pressing through the gloom In the wild hurry of his guilty purpose, Trod at the extreme verge upon a crag Loosen'd by summer from its granite bed, And suddenly fell with it;—with his fall Sank the base daring of the man who held The infant; so he placed the unconscious babe Upon the spot where it was found by me; Watch'd till he saw the infant safe; then fled, Fearful of question; and return'd to die. That child is Ion. Whom dost guess his sire?— The first in Argos.

CLEMANTHE.

Dost thou mean Adrastus? He cannot—must not—be that tyrant's son!

MEDON.

It is most certain. Nay, my thankless girl, He hath no touch of his rash father's pride; For Nature, from whose genial lap he smiled Upon us first, hath moulded for her own The suppliant of her bounty;—thou art bless'd; Thus, let me bid thee joy.

CLEMANTHE.

Joy, sayst thou—joy! Then I must speak—he seeks Adrastus' life; And at this moment, while we talk, may stain His soul with parricide.

MEDON.

Impossible! Ion, the gentlest——

CLEMANTHE.

It is true, my father; I saw the weapon gleaming in his vest; I heard him call'd!

MEDON.

Shall I alarm the palace?

CLEMANTHE.

No; in the fierce confusion, he would fall Before our tale could be his safeguard. Gods! Is there no hope, no refuge?

MEDON.

Yes, if Heaven Assist us. I bethink me of a passage, Which, fashion'd by a king in pious zeal, That he might seek the altar of the god In secret, from the temple's inmost shrine Leads to the royal chamber. I have track'd it In youth for pastime. Could I thread it now, I yet might save him.

CLEMANTHE.

O, make haste, my father! Shall I attend thee?

MEDON.

No; thou wouldst impede My steps;—thou art fainting; when I have lodged thee safe In thy own chamber, I will light the torch, And instantly set forward.

CLEMANTHE.

Do not waste An instant's space on me; speed, speed, my father— The fatal moments fly; I need no aid;— Thou seest I am calm, quite calm.

MEDON.

The gods protect thee!

[Exeunt severally.]

title: Ion (Talfourd)/Act III


text:
Page:The Dictionary of Australasian Biography.djvu/294

 treacherously taken prisoner in 1860 by the Chinese, who carried him about in a cage with Mr. Boulby, the Times correspondent, and exhibited him to their fellow-countrymen. On his liberation in the same year he returned to England, and ratified the treaty of Tientsin and the Convention of Pekin. He was appointed private secretary to Sir George Grey, Secretary to the Home Department in 1861, colonel commandant 4th Battalion Cheshire Regiment in 1873, and was Governor of the Isle of Man from 1863 to 1882, when he was appointed Commissioner of Her Majesty's Woods, Forests, and Land Revenue. This post he held till 1884, when he was appointed Governor of Victoria, and assumed the post on July 15th. His régime was highly popular, and in March 1889 he left Melbourne for England on leave of absence. During his stay in London he was pressed by the Government to accept the post of Governor of the Cape of Good Hope and High Commissioner for South Africa. Ultimately he somewhat reluctantly assented, and proceeded to the Cape viâ Melbourne, where he arrived on Oct. 18th, 1889, and left again for the Cape, where he is still Governor, on Nov. 16th, 1889. Sir Henry Loch married on May 7th, 1862, Elizabeth, daughter of Hon. Edward Villiers, brother of fourth Earl of Clarendon. He was created C.B. in 1861, K.C.B. in 1880, and G.C.M.G. in 1887.

Long, Hon. William Alexander, M.L.C., formerly represented Parramatta in the Legislative Assembly of New South Wales, but was nominated to the Legislative Council in August 1885. He was Colonial Treasurer in the Robertson Government from August to Dec. 1877.

Longmore, Hon. Francis, formerly Minister of Lands, Victoria, is the youngest son of George Longmore, a farmer in Monaghan, Ireland, where he was born in 1826. He was educated at Mr. Blackey's Presbyterian Academy, Monaghan, and in 1839 went to Australia with the members of his family, who settled in New South Wales, where he followed farming pursuits till 1851, when he started business in Sydney as a commission agent. The next year he removed to Victoria, where since 1854 he has farmed land in the Learmonth district. In 1856 Mr. Longmore began to take an active part in public affairs, being a strong opponent of the abuses of the land system. In 1861 he stood for the county of Ripon and Hampden, but was defeated by Mr. J. Service. In 1864 he was successful against another opponent. In the Assembly he distinguished himself as a strong Liberal, Protectionist, and land reformer. He held office as Commissioner of Railways and Vice-President of the Board of Land and Works under Mr. (now Sir) Charles G. Duffy from June 1871 to June 1872, and was Minister of Lands under Mr. (now Sir) Graham Berry from August to Oct. 1875. In the second Berry Government, which lasted from May 1877 till March 1880, he held the same position, distinguishing himself as a Minister by his vehement opposition to squatting and support of small settlement. Mr. Longmore was defeated for Ripon and Hampden in 1883, and has not re-entered Parliament.

Lonsdale, Captain William, first Colonial Secretary of Victoria, was originally an officer of the 4th Regiment, but after arrival in Sydney entered the Civil Service of the colony, and was employed as a police magistrate. In 1836, when measures were required for the preservation of order in the newly formed settlement, he was despatched by the Governor of New South Wales, Sir R. Bourke, with the appointment of police magistrate at the future Melbourne. He went to his new location in H.M.S. Rattlesnake, commanded by Captain William Hobson, afterwards first Governor of New Zealand, after whom Hobson's Bay, on which Melbourne stands, was named. In September Port Phillip was formally opened to settlement, and Lonsdale was instructed to form a bench of magistrates, to protect the natives from all manner of wrong, to pension (q.v.) the wild white man found amongst the blacks by Batman in the previous year, and generally to supervise the disposal of the public lands, to which previous unauthorised occupation was to give no prior claim at the sales which were to be carried out. In March 1837 Governor Bourke himself visited the settlement, and was received by Lonsdale, who was appointed sub-treasurer and was acting Superintendent of Port Phillip during the absence of the Superintendent, Mr. Latrobe, in Tasmania from Oct 1846 to 278


text:
Ion (Talfourd)/Act IV

Scene I
''The Royal Chamber. Adrastus on a couch, asleep.'' Enter Ion with the knife.

ION.

Why do I creep thus stealthily along With trembling steps? Am I not arm'd by Heaven To execute its mandate on a king Whom it hath doom'd? And shall I falter now, While every moment that he breathes may crush Some life else happy?—Can I be deceived, By some foul passion, crouching in my soul, Which takes a radiant form to lure me on? Assure me, gods!—Yes; I have heard your voices; For I dare pray ye now to nerve my arm And see me strike! [He goes to the couch.] He's smiling in his slumber, As if some happy thought of innocent days Play'd at his heart-strings: must I scare it thence With death's sharp agony? He lies condemn'd By the high judgment of supernal Powers, And he shall know their sentence. Wake, Adrastus! Collect thy spirits, and be strong to die!

ADRASTUS.

Who dares disturb my rest? Guards! Soldiers! Recreants! Where tarry ye? Why smite ye not to earth This bold intruder?—Ha! no weapon here!— What wouldst thou with me, ruffian? [Rising.]

ION.

I am none, But a sad instrument in Jove's great hand To take thy life, long forfeited— Prepare! Thy hour is come!

ADRASTUS.

Villains! does no one hear?

ION.

Vex not the closing minutes of thy being With torturing hope or idle rage; thy guards, Palsied with revelry, are scatter'd senseless, While the most valiant of our Argive youths Hold every passage by which human aid Could reach thee. Present death is the award Of Powers who watch above me while I stand To execute their sentence.

ADRASTUS.

Thou!—I know thee— The youth I spared this morning, in whose ear I pour'd the secrets of my bosom. Kill me, If thou dar'st do it; but bethink thee first How the grim memory of thy thankless deed Will haunt thee to the grave!

ION.

It is most true; Thou spar'dst my life, and therefore do the gods Ordain me to this office, lest thy fall Seem the chance forfeit of some single sin, And not the great redress of Argos. Now— Now, while I parley—Spirits that have left, Within this hour, their plague-tormented flesh To rot untomb'd, glide by, and frown on me, Their slow avenger—and the chamber swarms With looks of Furies—Yet a moment wait, Ye dreadful prompters!—If there is a friend, Whom dying thou wouldst greet by word or token, Speak thy last bidding.

ADRASTUS.

I have none on earth. If thou hast courage, end me!

ION.

Not one friend! Most piteous doom!

ADRASTUS.

Art melted?

ION.

If I am, Hope nothing from my weakness; mortal arms, And eyes unseen that sleep not, gird us round, And we shall fall together. Be it so!

ADRASTUS.

No; strike at once; my hour is come: in thee I recognise the minister of Jove, And, kneeling thus, submit me to his power.

[Adrastus kneels.]

ION.

Avert thy face!

ADRASTUS.

No; let me meet thy gaze; For breathing pity lights thy features up Into more awful likeness of a form Which once shone on me;—and which now my sense Shapes palpable—in habit of the grave, Inviting me to the sad realm where shades Of innocents, whom passionate regard Link'd with the guilty, are content to pace With them the margin of the inky flood Mournful and calm;—'tis surely there;—she waves Her pallid hand in circle o'er thy head, As if to bless thee—and I bless thee too, Death's gracious angel!—Do not turn away.

ION.

Gods! to what office have ye doom'd me!—Now!

[''Ion raises his arm to stab Adrastus, who is kneeling, and gazes steadfastly upon him. The voice of Medon is heard without, calling "Ion! Ion!"—Ion drops his arm.'']

ADRASTUS.

Be quick, or thou art lost!

[As Ion has again raised his arm to strike, Medon rushes in behind him.]

MEDON.

Ion, forbear! Behold thy son, Adrastus!

[Ion stands for a moment stupefied with horror, drops the knife, and falls senseless on the ground.]

ADRASTUS.

What strange words Are these which call my senses from the death They were composed to welcome? Son! 'tis false— I had but one—and the deep wave rolls o'er him!

MEDON.

That wave received, instead of the fair nurseling, One of the slaves who bore him from thy sight In wicked haste to slay;—I'll give thee proofs.

ADRASTUS.

Great Jove, I thank thee!—raise him gently—proofs! Are there not here the lineaments of her Who made me happy once—the voice, now still, That bade the long-seal'd fount of love gush out, While with a prince's constancy he came To lay his noble life down; and the sure, The dreadful proof, that he whose guileless brow Is instinct with her spirit, stood above me, Arm'd for the traitor's deed?—It is my child! [Ion, reviving, sinks on one knee before Adrastus.]

ION.

Father! [Noise without.]

MEDON.

The clang of arms!

ION. [starting up]

They come! they come! They who are leagued with me against thy life. Here let us fall!

ADRASTUS.

I will confront them yet. Within I have a weapon which has drank A traitor's blood ere now;—there will I wait them: No power less strong than death shall part us now.

[Exeunt Adrastus and Ion as to an inner chamber.]

MEDON.

Have mercy on him, gods, for the dear sake Of your most single-hearted worshipper!

[Enter Ctesiphon, Cassander, and others.]

CTESIPHON.

What treachery is this—the tyrant fled, And Ion fled too!—Comrades, stay this dotard, While I search yonder chamber.

MEDON.

Spare him, friends,— Spare him to clasp awhile his new-found son; Spare him as Ion's father!

CTESIPHON.

Father! yes— That is indeed a name to bid me spare;— Let me but rind him, gods!

[He rushes into the inner chamber.]

MEDON. [to Cassander and the others.]

Had ye but seen What I have seen, ye would have mercy on him.

[Crythes enters with soldiers.]

Ha, soldiers! hasten to defend your master; That way—

[As Crythes is about to enter the inner chamber, Ctesiphon rushes from it with a bloody dagger, and stops them.]

CTESIPHON.

It is accomplished; the foul blot Is wiped away. Shade of my murder'd father, Look on thy son, and smile!

CRYTHES.

Whose blood is that? It cannot be the king's!

CTESIPHON.

It cannot be! Think'st thou, foul minion of a tyrant's will, He was to crush, and thou to crawl for ever? Look there, and tremble!

CRYTHES.

Wretch! thy life shall pay The forfeit of this deed.

[''Crythes and soldiers seize Ctesiphon. Enter Adrastus mortally wounded, supported by Ion.'']

ADRASTUS.

Here let me rest;— In this old chamber did my life begin, And here I'll end it: Crythes! thou hast timed Thy visit well, to bring thy soldiers hither To gaze upon my parting.

CRYTHES.

To avenge thee;— Here is the traitor!

ADRASTUS.

Set him free at once:— Why do ye not obey me? Ctesiphon, I gave thee cause for this;—believe me now That thy true steel has made thy vengeance sure; And as we now stand equal, I will sue For a small boon—let me not see thee more.

CTESIPHON.

Farewell!

[Exit Ctesiphon.]

ADRASTUS. [to Crythes and the soldiers.]

Why do ye tarry here? Begone!—still do ye hover round my couch? If the commandment of a dying king Is feeble, as a man who has embraced His child for the first time since infancy, And presently must part with him for ever, I do adjure ye leave us!

[Exeunt all but Ion and Adrastus.] ION.

O my father! How is it with thee now?

ADRASTUS.

Well; very well;— Avenging Fate hath spent its utmost force Against me; and I gaze upon my son With the sweet certainty that nought can part us Till all is quiet here. How like a dream Seems the succession of my regal pomps Since I embraced thy helplessness! To me The interval hath been a weary one: How hath it pass'd with thee?

ION.

But that my heart Hath sometimes ached for the sweet sense of kindred, I had enjoy'd a round of happy years As cherish'd youth e'er knew.

ADRASTUS.

I bless the gods That they have strewn along thy humble path Delights unblamed; and in this hour I seem Even as I had lived so; and I feel That I shall live in thee, unless that curse— Oh, if it should survive me!

ION.

Think not of it; The gods have shed such sweetness in this moment, That, howsoe'er they deal with me hereafter, I shall not deem them angry. Let me call For help to staunch thy wound; thou art strong yet, And yet may live to bless me.

ADRASTUS.

Do not stir; My strength is ebbing fast; yet, as it leaves me, The spirit of my stainless days of love Awakens; and their images of joy, Which at thy voice started from blank oblivion, When thou wert strange to me, and then half-shown Look'd sadly through the mist of guilty years, Now glimmer on me in the lovely light Which at thy age they wore. Thou art all thy mother's, Her elements of gentlest virtue cast In mould heroical.

ION.

Thy speech grows fainter; Can I do nothing for thee?

ADRASTUS.

Yes;—my son, Thou art the best, the bravest, of a race Of rightful monarchs; thou must mount the throne Thy ancestors have fill'd, and by great deeds Efface the memory of thy fated sire, And win the blessing of the gods for men Stricken for him. Swear to me thou wilt do this, And I shall die forgiven.

ION.

I will.

ADRASTUS.

Rejoice, Sufferers of Argos! I am growing weak, And my eyes dazzle; let me rest my hands, Ere they have lost their feeling, on thy head.— So! So!—thy hair is glossy to the touch As when I last enwreath'd its tiny curl About my finger; I did image then Thy reign excelling mine; it is fulfill'd, And I die happy. Bless thee, King of Argos! [Dies.]

ION.

He's dead! and I am fatherless again.— King did he hail me? shall I make that word A spell to bid old happiness awake Throughout the lovely land that father'd me In my forsaken childhood?

[He sees the knife on the ground, and takes it up.]

Most vain dream! This austere monitor hath bid thee vanish Ere half-reveal'd. Come back, thou truant steel; Half of thy work the gods absolved thee from— The rest remains! Lie there!

[''He conceals the knife in his vest. Shouts heard without.'']

The voice of joy! Is this thy funeral wailing? O my father! Mournful and brief will be the heritage Thou leavest me; yet I promised thee in death To grasp it;—and I will embrace it now.

[Enter Agenor and others.]

AGENOR.

Does the king live?

ION.

Alas! in me. The son Of him whose princely spirit is at rest, Claims his ancestral honours.

AGENOR.

That high thought Anticipates the prayer of Argos, roused To sudden joy. The sages wait without To greet thee: wilt confer with them to-night, Or wait the morning?

ION.

Now;—the city's state Allows the past no sorrow. I attend them. [Exeunt.]

Scene II
''Before the Gate of the City. Phocion on guard.''

PHOCION.

Fool that I was to take this idle office At most inglorious distance from the scene Which shall be freedom's birth-place; to endure The phantasies of danger which the soul Uncheer'd by action coldly dallies with Till it begins to shiver! Long ere this, If Ion's hand be firm, the deed is past, And yet no shout announces that the bonds Of tyranny are broken. [Shouts at a distance.] Hark! 'tis done!

[Enter Ctesiphon.]

All hail, my brother freeman!—art not so?— Thy looks are haggard—is the tyrant slain? Is liberty achieved?

CTESIPHON.

The king is dead; This arm—I bless the righteous Furies!—slew him.

PHOCION.

Did Ion quail, then?

CTESIPHON.

Ion!—clothe thy speech In phrase more courtly; he is king of Argos, Accepted as the tyrant's son, and reigns.

PHOCION.

It cannot be; I can believe him born Of such high lineage; yet he will not change His own rich treasury of unruffled thoughts For all the frigid glories that invest The loveless state in which the monarch dwells A terror and a slave. [Shouts again.]

CTESIPHON.

Dost hear that shout? 'Tis raised for him!—the craven-hearted world Is ever eager thus to hail a master, And patriots smite for it in vain. Our Soldiers, In the gay recklessness of men who sport With life as with a plaything; Citizens On wretched beds gaping for show; and Sages, Vain of a royal sophist, madly join In humble prayer that he would deign to tread Upon their necks; and he is pleased to grant it.

PHOCION.

He shall not grant it. If my life, my sense, My heart's affections, and my tongue's free scope Wait the dominion of a mortal will, What is the sound to me, whether my soul Bears "Ion" or "Adrastus" burnt within it As my soul's owner? Ion tyrant? No! Grant me a moment's pleading with his heart, Which has not known a selfish throb till now, And thou shalt see him smile this greatness from him.

CTESIPHON.

Go teach the eagle when in azure heaven He upward darts to seize his madden'd prey, Shivering through the death-circle of its fear, To pause and let it 'scape, and thou mayst win Man to forego the sparkling round of power, When it floats airily within his grasp!

PHOCION.

Why thus severe? Our nature's common wrongs Affect thee not; and that which touch'd thee nearly Is well avenged.

CTESIPHON.

Not while the son of him Who smote my father reigns! I little guess'd Thou wouldst require a prompter to awake The memory of the oath so freshly sworn, Or of the place assign'd to thee by lot, Should our first champion fail to crush the race— Mark me!—"the race" of him my arm has dealt with. Now is the time, the palace all confused, And the prince dizzy with strange turns of fortune, To do thy part.

PHOCION.

Have mercy on my weakness! If thou hadst known this comrade of my sports, One of the same small household whom his mirth Unfailing gladden'd;—if a thousand times Thou hadst, by strong prosperity made thoughtless, Touch'd its unfather'd nature in its nerve Of agony, and felt no chiding glance;— Hadst thou beheld him overtax his strength To serve the wish his genial instinct guess'd, Till his dim smile the weariness betray'd, Which it would fain dissemble; hadst thou known In sickness the sweet magic of his care, Thou couldst not ask it.—Hear me, Ctesiphon!— I had a deadly fever once, and slaves Fled me: he watch'd, and glided to my bed, And sooth'd my dull ear with discourse which grew By nice degrees to ravishment, till pain Seem'd an heroic sense, which made me kin To the great deeds he pictured, and the brood Of dizzy weakness flickering through the gloom Of my small curtain'd prison caught the hues Of beauty spangling out in glorious change; And it became a luxury to lie And faintly listen. Canst thou bid me slay him?

CTESIPHON.

The deed be mine. Thou'lt not betray me? [Going.]

PHOCION.

Hold! If by our dreadful compact he must fall, I will not smite him with my coward thought Winging a distant arm; I will confront him Arm'd with delicious memories of our youth, And pierce him through them all.

CTESIPHON.

Be speedy, then!

PHOCION.

Fear not that I shall prove a laggard, charged With weight of such a purpose.—Fate commands, And I live now but to perform her bidding.

[Exeunt severally.]

Scene III
A Terrace in the Garden of the Palace, by Moonlight.

Enter Ion and Agenor.

AGENOR.

Wilt thou not in to rest?

ION.

My rest is here— Beneath the greatness of the heavens, which awes My spirit, toss'd by sudden change, and torn By various passions, to repose. Yet age Requires more genial nourishment—pray seek it— I will but stay thee to inquire once more If any symptom of returning health Bless the wan city?

AGENOR.

No—the perishing Lift up their painful heads to bless thy name, And their eyes kindle as they utter it; But still they perish.

ION.

So!—give instant order, The rites which shall confirm me in my throne Be solemnized to-morrow.

AGENOR.

How! so soon, While the more sacred duties to the dead Remain unpaid?

ION.

Let them abide my time— They will not tarry long. I see thee gaze With wonder on me—do my bidding now, And trust me till to-morrow. Pray go in, The night will chill thee else.

AGENOR.

Farewell, my lord! [Exit.]

ION.

Now all is stillness in my breast—how soon To be displaced by more profound repose, In which no thread of consciousness shall live To feel how calm it is!—O lamp serene, Do I lift up to thee undazzled eyes For the last time? Shall I enjoy no more Thy golden haziness which seem'd akin To my young fortune's dim felicity? And when it coldly shall embrace the urn That shall contain my ashes, will no thought Of all the sweet ones cherish'd by thy beams Awake to tremble with them? Vain regret! The pathway of my duty lies in sunlight, And I would tread it with as firm a step, Though it should terminate in cold oblivion, As if Elysian pleasures at its close Gleam'd palpable to sight as things of earth. Who passes there?

[Enter Phocion behind, who strikes at Ion with a dagger.]

PHOCION.

This to the king of Argos!

[Ion struggles with him, seizes the dagger, which he throws away.]

ION.

I will not fall by thee, poor wavering novice In the assassin's trade!—thy arm is feeble— [He confronts Phocion.] Phocion!—was this well aim'd? thou didst not mean—

PHOCION.

I meant to take thy life, urged by remembrance Of yesterday's great vow.

ION.

And couldst thou think I had forgotten?

PHOCION.

Thou?

ION.

Couldst thou believe, That one, whose nature had been arm'd to stop The life-blood's current in a fellow's veins) Would hesitate when gentler duty turn'd His steel to nearer use? To-morrow's dawn Shall see me wield the sceptre of my fathers: Come, watch beside my throne, and, if I fail In sternest duty which my country needs, My bosom will be open to thy steel, As now to thy embrace!

PHOCION.

Thus let me fall Low at thy feet, and kneeling here receive Forgiveness; do not crush me with more love Than lies in the word "pardon."

ION.

And that word I will not speak;—what have I to forgive? A devious fancy, and a muscle raised Obedient to its impulse! Dost thou think The tracings of a thousand kindnesses, Which taught me all I guess'd of brotherhood, Are in the rashness of a moment lost?

PHOCION.

I cannot look upon thee; let me go, And lose myself in darkness.

ION.

Nay, old playmate, We part not thus—the duties of my state Will shortly end our fellowship; but spend A few sweet minutes with me. Dost remember How in a night like this we climb'd yon walls— Two vagrant urchins, and with tremulous joy Skimm'd through these statue-border'd walks that gleam'd In bright succession? Let us tread them now; And think we are but older by a day, And that the pleasant walk of yesternight We are to-night retracing. Come, my friend!— What, drooping yet! thou wert not wont to seem So stubborn—cheerily, my Phocion—come!

[Exeunt.]

title: Ion (Talfourd)/Act IV


text:
Page:The Dictionary of Australasian Biography.djvu/293

 and passed in physics under Professor Tyndall, geology under Sir Andrew Ramsay, mineralogy under Sir W. Warrington Smyth, mechanics under Professors Willis and Goodeve, and metallurgy under Dr. Percy. He also spent some time in Dr. Frankland's private chemical laboratory as a senior student upon research work. In 1870 he obtained an open scholarship in science at Christ's College, Cambridge. During his first year at Cambridge he held the post of Demonstrator of Chemistry in the university laboratory for two terms, in the absence of Dr. Hicks. He was one of the first two students in the new physiological laboratory at Cambridge started by Professor Michael Foster. In 1872 he was offered the appointment of Professor of Chemistry and Mineralogy in the University of Sydney, and went out in September of that year. He was a commissioner for New South Wales at the Paris Exhibition in 1878, and a juror in chemistry and metallurgy. He has been a trustee of the Australian Museum, Sydney, since 1874, and during visits to Europe, America, and elsewhere purchased most of the non-Australian mineral and geological collections which it possesses. Professor Liversidge has also been a member of the Sydney University Senate since 1878, and Dean of the Faculty of Science since the formation of that faculty in 1883. He made the chemical investigations upon the Sydney water supply for the Government in 1876; was one of the original members of the Board of Technical Education, and Hon. Secretary of the Royal Society of New South Wales from 1874 to 1889, exclusive of the period when he was President in 1883-4. He was the President for 1889-90. He was elected to the Fellowship of the Royal Society of England in 1882. He published a work on the minerals of New South Wales in 1888, to show the progress made in the knowledge of mineralogy in New South Wales during the first hundred years of its history. He originated the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science as a centennial record of the progress of the colonies. He has visited Tasmania and New Zealand three times, Fiji, Java, China, Japan, and the United States in 1887. Professor Archibald Liversidge is an Associate of the Royal School of Mines, London; Fellow of the Chemical Society, London; Fellow Institute Chemistry of Great Britain and Ireland; F.G.S.; F.L.S.; F.R.G.S.; member Physiological Society, London; member Mineralogical Society, Great Britain and Ireland; corresponding member Royal Society, Tasmania; corresponding member Leuckenberg Institute, Frankfort; corresponding member Society d'Acclimatisation, Mauritius; Hon. Fellow Royal Historical Society, London; member Mineralogical Society of France; editor of the Journal of the Royal Society of New South Wales; and is the author of some twenty scientific papers and reports on chemistry, mineralogy, etc.

Lloyd, Hon. George Alfred, M.L.C., was born at Norwood in Surrey, and was employed in a shipping and insurance broker's office in London. In 1838 he emigrated to New South Wales, and ultimately began a successful career as a general merchant in Sydney. He represented Newcastle in the Assembly from 1869 to 1877, was Postmaster-General from May to Dec. 1872, and Colonial Treasurer from Dec. 1872 to Feb. 1875 in the first Ministry. Mr. Lloyd was Secretary for Mines in the second Parkes Government, which lasted from Feb. to August 1877, in which year he was defeated at Newcastle, but was subsequently re-elected. In Feb. 1887 he was nominated to the Legislative Council.

 Loch, His Excellency Sir Henry Brougham, G.C.M.G., late Governor of Victoria, is the son of James Loch, of Drylaw, sometime M.P. for St. Germans and Wick Burghs, and Ann his wife, daughter of Patrick Orr, of Bridgeton, Forfarshire, and was born on May 23rd, 1827. He was in the royal navy from 1840 to 1842, entered the 3rd Bengal Cavalry in 1844, and was appointed aide-de-camp to Lord Gough, Commander-in-Chief in India, in 1846. In 1850 he was appointed adjutant and second in command of Skinner's Horse, and in 1854 was sent to Bulgaria to assist in organising the Turkish cavalry. In the same year he crossed to the Crimea in H.M.S. Agamemnon, and was attached to Lord Elgin's special embassies to China and Japan from 1857 to 1860. He was the bearer to England of the treaty of Yeddo concluded with Japan in 1858, and was 277


text:
User talk:Jack1956

— billinghurst  sDrewth  10:37, 14 December 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:Jack1956


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User talk:59.95.208.112

Welcome

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title: User talk:59.95.208.112


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User talk:72.19.44.52

Welcome

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

 * Help pages
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title: User talk:72.19.44.52


text: User talk:198.237.17.8

title: User talk:198.237.17.8


text:
User talk:98.77.114.43

Welcome

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title: User talk:98.77.114.43


text:
User talk:82.22.194.175

Welcome

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

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title: User talk:82.22.194.175


text:
User talk:95.165.239.80

Welcome

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

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title: User talk:95.165.239.80


text:
User talk:98.140.184.254

Welcome

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

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title: User talk:98.140.184.254


text:
User talk:205.223.222.252

Welcome

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

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In any case, I hope you enjoy donating your time to grow the Wikisource library that is free for everyone to use! In discussions, please sign your comments using four tildes ( ~ ); this will automatically produce your IP address (or username if you're logged in) and the date. If you need help, ask me on my talk page, or ask your question here (click  [ edit] ) and place  before your question. Again, welcome! — billinghurst  sDrewth  11:24, 14 December 2010 (UTC)

title: User talk:205.223.222.252


title: User:AmyRose00000


text:
Page:The letters of William Blake (1906).djvu/191

 Rh sincerely thank you for your kind offer of exhibiting my two pictures. The trouble you take on my account, I trust, will be recompensed to you by Him who seeth in secret. If you should find it convenient to do so, it will be gratefully remembered by me among the other numerous kindnesses I have received from you."

I go on with the remaining subjects which you gave me commission to execute for you; but I shall not be able to send any more before my return, though perhaps I may bring some with me finished. I am, at present, in a bustle to defend myself against a very unwarrantable warrant from a justice of peace in Chichester, which was taken out against me by a private in Captain Leathers troop of 1st or Royal Dragoons, for an assault and seditious words. The wretched man has terribly perjured himself, as has his comrade; for, as to sedition, not one word relating to the king or government was spoken by either him or me. His enmity arises from my having turned him out of my garden, into which he was invited as an assistant by a gardener at work therein, without my knowledge that he was so invited. I desired him, as politely as possible, to go out of the garden; he made me an impertinent answer. I insisted on his leaving the garden; he refused. I still persisted in desiring his departure. He then threatened to


text:
Page:The letters of William Blake (1906).djvu/192

 126 knock out my eyes, with many abominable imprecations, and with some contempt for my person; it affronted my foolish pride. I therefore took him by the elbows, and pushed him before me till I had got him out. There I intended to have left him, but he, turning about, put himself into a posture of defiance, threatening and swearing at me. I, perhaps foolishly and perhaps not, stepped out at the gate, and, putting aside his blows, took him again by the elbows, and, keeping his back to me, pushed him forward down the road about fifty yards—he all the while endeavouring to turn round and strike me, and raging and cursing, which drew out several neighbours. At length, when I had got him to where he was quartered, which was very quickly done, we were met at the gate by the master of the house, the Fox Inn (who is the proprietor of my cottage), and his wife and daughter, and the man's comrade, and several other people. My landlord compelled the soldiers to go indoors, after many abusive threats against me and my wife from the two soldiers; but not one word of threat on account of sedition was uttered at that time. This method of revenge was planned between them after they had got together into the stable. This is the whole outline. I have for witnesses: the gardener, who is hostler at the Fox, and who


text:
Page:The letters of William Blake (1906).djvu/193

 Rh evidences that, to his knowledge, no word of the remotest tendency to government or sedition was uttered; our next-door neighbour, a miller's wife (who saw me turn him before me down the road, and saw and heard all that happened at the gate of the inn), who evidences that no expression of threatening on account of sedition was uttered in the heat of their fury by either of the dragoons. This was the woman's own remark, and does high honour to her good sense, as she observes that, whenever a quarrel happens, the offence is always repeated. The landlord of the inn, and his wife and daughter, will evidence the same, and will evidently prove the comrade perjured, who swore that he heard me, while at the gate, utter seditious words, and d— the k—, without which perjury I could not have been committed; and I had no witnesses with me before the justices who could combat his assertion, as the gardener remained in my garden all the while, and he was the only person I thought necessary to take with me. I have been before a bench of justices at Chichester this morning; but they, as the lawyer who wrote down the accusation told me in private, are compelled by the military to suffer a prosecution to be entered into: although they must know, and it is manifest, that the whole is a fabricated perjury. I have been forced to find bail. Mr. Hayley was