text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/L

 * ../Lactantius/
 * ../Laeghaire/
 * ../Lampetius/
 * ../Laurentius, an antipope/
 * ../Laurentius (15)/
 * ../Laurentius (36)/
 * ../Leander (2)/
 * ../Leo I., emperor/
 * ../Leo I., the Great/
 * ../Leontius, bp. of Antioch/
 * ../Leontius, a scholasticus of Byzantium/
 * ../Leontius, priest and martyr of Armenia/
 * ../Leovigild, Arian king of the Visigoths/
 * ../Leucius, author of N.T. apocryphal additions/
 * ../Liberatus Diaconus/
 * ../Liberius, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Licentius (1)/
 * ../Linus (1)/
 * ../Lucanus (1)/
 * ../Lucianus, a famous satirist/
 * ../Lucianus, priest of Antioch, martyr/
 * ../Luciferus I., bishhop of Calaris/
 * ../Lucius (1) I/
 * ../Lucius (11)/
 * ../Lucius (16)/
 * ../Lupus/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/M

 * ../Macarius, bp. of Jerusalem/
 * ../Macarius Magnes, a writer/
 * ../Macarius, presbyter of Athanasius/
 * ../Macarius, an Egyptian hermit or monk/
 * ../Macarius, a Roman Christian/
 * ../Macedonius, bp. of Constantinople/
 * ../Macedonius II., patriarch of Constantinople/
 * ../Macrina, the Elder/
 * ../Macrina, the Younger/
 * ../Magnentius, Flavius Popilius, emperor/
 * ../Majorianus, Julius Valerius/
 * ../Majorinus, a church reader at Carthage/
 * ../Malchion, a presbyter of Antioch/
 * ../Malchus, a hermit in Syria/
 * ../Mamertus, Saint, bp. of Vienne/
 * ../Mamertus, Claudianus Ecdicius/
 * ../Mammaea or Mamaea, Julia/
 * ../Manes, called also Mani/
 * ../Manicheans/
 * ../Mar Aba or Mar-Abas/
 * ../Marana and Cyra/
 * ../Marcella, friend of Jerome/
 * ../Marcellina, a sister of St. Ambrose/
 * ../Marcellinus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Marcellinus, Flavius/
 * ../Marcellus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Marcellus, bp. of Ancyra/
 * ../Marcia, concubine of Commodus/
 * ../Marciani, see Euchites/
 * ../Marcianus, a solitary in Syria/
 * ../Marcianus, presbyter at Constantinople/
 * ../Marcianus, Flavius, emperor of the East/
 * ../Marcion, a 2nd cent. heretic/
 * ../Marcus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Marcus, surnamed Eremita/
 * ../Marcus, a Gnostic/
 * ../Mari, see Nestorian Church/
 * ../Marinus, a military martyr/
 * ../Maris, bp. of Chalcedon/
 * ../Marius Mercator, a writer/
 * ../Marius, bp. of Lausanne/
 * ../Martinianus, a martyr at Rome/
 * ../Martinus, St., bp. of Tours/
 * ../Martinus, bp. of Dumium/
 * ../Martyrius, bp. of Jerusalem/
 * ../Masona, bp. of Merida/
 * ../Maternus, Julius Firmicus/
 * ../Maurus, St., founder of Glanfeuil monastery/
 * ../Maxentius, Joannes, presbyter and archimandrite/
 * ../Maximianus I., M. Aurelius Valerius/
 * ../Maximianus, a Donatist/
 * ../Maximianus, archbp. of Constantinople/
 * ../Maximinus I., Roman emperor/
 * ../Maximinus II., emperor/
 * ../Maximinus, Saint, bp. of Trèves/
 * ../Maximinus, Arian bp. of Hippo Regius/
 * ../Maximus Magnus, Christian emperor in the West/
 * ../Maximus Petronius, emperor of the West/
 * ../Maximus, bp. of Alexandria/
 * ../Maximus, bp. of Jerusalem/
 * ../Maximus the Cynic, bp of Constantinople/
 * ../Maximus, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Maximus, bp. of Turin/
 * ../Maximus, an ecclesiastical writer/
 * ../Maximus of Ephesus/
 * ../Melania, a Roman lady/
 * ../Melania the younger, daughter of Publicola/
 * ../Meletius, bp. of Lycopolis/
 * ../Meletius, bishop of Antioch/
 * ../Melito/
 * ../Mellitus/
 * ../Menander/
 * ../Mennas/
 * ../Merlinus/
 * ../Mesrobes/
 * ../Methodius/
 * ../Miltiades, 2nd cent. Christian writer/
 * ../Miltiades, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Minucius Felix, Marcus/
 * ../Miro/
 * ../Modestus/
 * ../Monnica/
 * ../Monoimus/
 * ../Monophysitism/
 * ../Monothelitism/
 * ../Montanus/
 * ../Montanus, bishop of Toledo/
 * ../Moses/
 * ../Moses of Khoren/
 * ../Muratorian Fragment/
 * ../Musonius/

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


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/N

 * ../Narcissus, bp. of Jerusalem/
 * ../Nebridius, a friend of St. Augustine/
 * ../Nectarius, archbp. of Constantinople/
 * ../Nemesius, bp. of Emesa/
 * ../Nero, Claudius Caesar/
 * ../Nerva, Roman emperor/
 * ../Nestorian Church/
 * ../Nestorius, bishop of Side/
 * ../Nestorius and Nestorianism/
 * ../Nicarete, a lady of Nicomedia/
 * ../Nicetas, bp. of Romaciana/
 * ../Nicetius, archbp. of Trèves/
 * ../Nicolaitanes, a heretical sect/
 * ../Nicolaus, bp. of Myra/
 * ../Nilus, an ascetic of Sinai/
 * ../Ninian, British missionary bsp/
 * ../Noetus, a native of Smyrna/
 * ../Nomus, leading personage at Constantinople/
 * ../Nonna, mother of Gregory Nazianzen/
 * ../Nonnus of Panopolis/
 * ../Novatianus and Novatianism/
 * ../Novatus, presbyter of Carthage/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/O

 * ../Oceanus, a Roman of noble birth/
 * ../Olympias, the younger/
 * ../Optatus, bp. of Milevis/
 * ../Origenes, known as Origen/
 * ../Orosius, Paulus/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/P

 * ../Pachomius, St/
 * ../Palladius, bp. of Helenopolis/
 * ../Palladias, bishop of Ireland/
 * ../Pammachius, a Roman senator/
 * ../Pamphilus, presbyter of Caesarea/
 * ../Pancratius, martyr/
 * ../Pantaenus, of Alexandria/
 * ../Papa/
 * ../Paphnutius, bishop in Upper Thebias/
 * ../Paphnutius, surnamed Bubalus/
 * ../Papias, bp. of Hierapolis/
 * ../Papylus, a martyr/
 * ../Parmenianus, a bp. of Carthage/
 * ../Pascentius, steward of of imperial property/
 * ../Paschasinus/
 * ../Paschasius, deacon of Rome/
 * ../Pastor/
 * ../Patricius, or St. Patrick/
 * ../Patrocius, a martyr/
 * ../Patroclus, bp. of Arles/
 * ../Patrophilus of Scythopolis/
 * ../Paula, a Roman lady/
 * ../Paula, daughter of Toxotius/
 * ../Paulina, daughter of Paula/
 * ../Paulinianus/
 * ../Paulinus, bishop of Tyre/
 * ../Paulinus, bishop of Trèves/
 * ../Paulinus, disciple of Ephraem Syrus/
 * ../Paulinus, bp. Eustathian party at Antioch/
 * ../Paulinus, biographer of Ambrose/
 * ../Paulinus, bishop of Nola/
 * ../Paulinus of Pella/
 * ../Paulinus of Périgueux/
 * ../Paulinus, missionary to Northumbria/
 * ../Paulus of Samosata, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Paulus II, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Paulus, the Black/
 * ../Paulus of Asia/
 * ../Paulus I, bishop of Constantinople/
 * ../Paulus Edessenus/
 * ../Paulus, bishop of Emesa/
 * ../Paulus, St. called Thebaeus/
 * ../Paulus the Silentiary/
 * ../Pegasius, bp. of Troas/
 * ../Pelagia, surnamed Margarita/
 * ../Pelagianism and Pelagius/
 * ../Pelagius I., bishop of Rome/
 * ../Pelagius II., bishop of Rome/
 * ../Peregrinus, called Proteus/
 * ../Perpetua, Vibia/
 * ../Perpetuus, St., archbp. of Tours/
 * ../Petilianus, a Donatist bishop/
 * ../Petronilla, saint and virgin/
 * ../Petrus, St., archbp. of Alexandria/
 * ../Petrus II., archbp. of Alexandria/
 * ../Petrus, surnamed Mongus/
 * ../Petrus, surnamed Fullo/
 * ../Petrus, bp. of Apamea/
 * ../Petrus, bp. of Edessa/
 * ../Petrus, patriarch of Jerusalem/
 * ../Petrus, first bp. of Parembolae/
 * ../Petrus, bp. of Sebaste/
 * ../Petrus, a solitary/
 * ../Petrus, abbat of St. Augustine's monastery/
 * ../Philaster, bp. of Brixia/
 * ../Philippus of Tralles/
 * ../Philippus, the Arabian/
 * ../Philippus, bp. of Heraclea/
 * ../Philippus, of Side/
 * ../Philo, deacon/
 * ../Philogonius, bp. of Antioch/
 * ../Philostorgius, a Cappadocian author/
 * ../Philoxenus, a Monophysite leader/
 * ../Phocas, of Sinope/
 * ../Photinus, a Galatian/
 * ../Photius, bp. of Tyre/
 * ../Pierius, a presbyter of Alexandria/
 * ../Pinianus, husband of Melania the younger/
 * ../Pionius, martyr at Smyrna/
 * ../Pius I., bp. of Rome/
 * ../Placidia, empress/
 * ../Poemen, anchorite of Egypt/
 * ../Polycarpus, bishop of Smyrna/
 * ../Polycarpus, Moyses of Aghel/
 * ../Polychronius, bp. of Apamea/
 * ../Polycrates, bp. of Ephesus/
 * ../Pomponia Graecina/
 * ../Pontianus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Pontitianus, a soldier/
 * ../Pontius, a deacon of Carthage/
 * ../Porphyrius, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Porphyrius, bp. of Gaza/
 * ../Possidius, bp. of Calama/
 * ../Posthumianus, of Aquitania/
 * ../Potimiaena, a martyr at Alexandria/
 * ../Pothinus, bp. of Lyons, martyr/
 * ../Praedestinatus, an author/
 * ../Praxeas, a heretic/
 * ../Primasius, bp. of Adrumetum/
 * ../Primianus, Donatist bp. of Carthage/
 * ../Priscillianus and Priscillianism, Priscillian/
 * ../Priscus, St. archbp. of Lyons/
 * ../Privatus, bp. of Lambaesis/
 * ../Probus, Sextus Anicius Petronius/
 * ../Prochorus, a deacon/
 * ../Proclus, a Montanist Teacher/
 * ../Proclus, St. patriarch of Constantinople/
 * ../Procopius Gazaeus, a Christian sophist/
 * ../Procopius of Caesarea/
 * ../Proculus, Montanist/
 * ../Proculus, bp. of Marseilles/
 * ../Prodicus, a Gnostic teacher/
 * ../Prosper, St., a native of Aquitaine/
 * ../Proterius, St., patriarch of Alexandria/
 * ../Prudentius, Marcus (?) Aurelius Clemens/
 * ../Pseudo-Chrysostomus/
 * ../Publius, a solitary/
 * ../Pulcheria, daughter of emperor Arcadius/
 * ../Purpurius, bp. of Limata/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/Q

 * ../Quadratus, an author/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/R

 * ../Rabbûlas, bp. of Edessa/
 * ../Radegundis, St/
 * ../Reccared/
 * ../Remigius, St., archbp. of Rheims/
 * ../Rhodo, a Christian writer/
 * ../Romanianus, citizen of Tagaste/
 * ../Romanus, a solitary/
 * ../Romanus, hymn-writer/
 * ../Rufinus of Aquileia/
 * ../Rufinus, a Roman presbyter/
 * ../Rufinus, the Syrian/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/S

 * ../Sabas, a Gothic martyr/
 * ../Sabas, St/
 * ../Sabbatius, bp. of Constantinople/
 * ../Sabellianism, or Patripassianism/
 * ../Sabellius, heretic/
 * ../Sabina, Poppaea/
 * ../Sabinus, bp. of Heraclea/
 * ../Salamenes of Capersana/
 * ../Salvianus, priest of Marseilles/
 * ../Salvina/
 * ../Salvius, bp. of Membrasa/
 * ../Salvius, bishop of Alby/
 * ../Samson, a Welsh saint/
 * ../Sarbelius, a Edessan martyr/
 * ../Saturninus/
 * ../Saturninus, bishop of Toulouse/
 * ../Saturninus, bishop of Arles/
 * ../Scapula, proconsul of Africa/
 * ../Scillitan Martyrs/
 * ../Sebastianus, martyr at Rome/
 * ../Secundinus, a poet/
 * ../Secundus, a Gnostic/
 * ../Secundus, bp. of Tigisis/
 * ../Sedulius, 5th-cent. poet/
 * ../Senochus, St/
 * ../Senuti, an anchorite/
 * ../Serapion, bp. of Antioch/
 * ../Serapion, penitent of Alexandria/
 * ../Serapion, surnamed Scholasticus/
 * ../Serapion, surnamed Sindonites/
 * ../Serapion, solitary of Scete/
 * ../Serapion, bp. of Heraclea/
 * ../Serenus, a solitary/
 * ../Serenus, bp. of Marseilles/
 * ../Sergius, saint and martyr/
 * ../Sergius, a Monophysite priest/
 * ../Severianus, bp. of Gabala/
 * ../Severinus, monk of Noricum/
 * ../Severus, L. Septimius/
 * ../Severus, Aurelius Alexander/
 * ../Severus (3) and Severians/
 * ../Severus Sanctus/
 * ../Severus Sulpicius, an historian/
 * ../Severus, bp. of Mileum/
 * ../Severus, bp. of Monorca/
 * ../Severus, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Severus, patriarch of Aquileia/
 * ../Sidonius Apollinaris, St/
 * ../Sigebert I/
 * ../Sigismundus, St/
 * ../Silvania/
 * ../Silvanus, bishop of Gaza/
 * ../Silvanus, bishop of Emesa/
 * ../Silvanus, bishop of Cirta/
 * ../Silvanus, bishop of Tarsus/
 * ../Silvanus, solitary of Sinai/
 * ../SiIvanus, bishop of Calahorra/
 * ../Silverius, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Silvester, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Sylvia, bp. of Jerusalem/
 * ../Simeon (1)/
 * ../Simeon Stylites/
 * ../Simon Magus/
 * ../Simplicianus, St., bp. of Milan/
 * ../Simplicius, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Siricius, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Sirmium, Stonemasons of/
 * ../Sisinnius, bp. of Novatianists/
 * ../Sixtus I., bp. of Rome/
 * ../Sixtus II., bp. of Rome/
 * ../Sixtus III., bp. of Rome/
 * ../Socrates, a historian/
 * ../Sophronius, ecclesiastical writer/
 * ../Sophronius, bishop of Tella/
 * ../Soter, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Sozomen, author of a history/
 * ../Spyridon, bp. of Trimithus/
 * ../Stagirus, friend of Chrysostom/
 * ../Stephanus I., bp. of Rome/
 * ../Stephanus, bp. of Ephesus/
 * ../Stephanus I., patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Stratonice, martyr at Cyzicum/
 * ../Sylvia, sister of Flavius Rufinus/
 * ../Symmachus, author O.T. in Greek/
 * ../Symmachus Q. Aurelius/
 * ../Symmachus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Symphorianus, martyr/
 * ../Synesius, bp. of Ptolemais/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/T

 * ../Tarachus, also called Victor/
 * ../Tatianus/
 * ../Teaching of the Twelve Apostles/
 * ../Teilo, bishop of Llandaff/
 * ../Telesphorus, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Tertullianus, Quintus Septimius Florens/
 * ../Thaddaeus/
 * ../Thaïs/
 * ../Thecla/
 * ../Themistius/
 * ../Theoctistus, bishop of Caesarea/
 * ../Theoctistus Psathyropola/
 * ../Theodebert I., king of the Franks/
 * ../Theodelinda, queen of the Lombards/
 * ../Theodora I., empress/
 * ../Theodoretus, bishop of Cyrrhus/
 * ../Theodoricus I., king of the Visigoths/
 * ../Theodoricus, the Ostrogoth/
 * ../Theodoricus I., king of the Franks/
 * ../Theodorus Askidas, archbp. of Caesarea/
 * ../Theodorus, bp. of Mopsuestia/
 * ../Theodorus, bishop of Tyana/
 * ../Theodorus of Tabenna/
 * ../Theodorus Lector/
 * ../Theodorus of Amasea/
 * ../Theodosius I., the Great/
 * ../Theodosius II., emperor/
 * ../Theodosius of Syria/
 * ../Theodosius, a Monophysite monk/
 * ../Theodotion, otherwise Theodotus/
 * ../Theodotus of Byzantium/
 * ../Theodotus the banker/
 * ../Theodotus, martyr at Ancyra/
 * ../Theodotus, bishop of Laodicea/
 * ../Theodotus, patriarch of Antioch/
 * ../Theognostus, a priest of Alexandria/
 * ../Theonas, bishop of Alexandria/
 * ../Theophilus, bishop of Antioch/
 * ../Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria/
 * ../Theophilus/
 * ../Theophronius/
 * ../Theophylactus Simocatta/
 * ../Theosebas, a deacon/
 * ../Theotimus, bishop of Tomi/
 * ../Thomas Edessenus/
 * ../Thomas Apameensis, bishop of Apamea/
 * ../Tiberius II., emperor of Constantinople/
 * ../Tiburtius/
 * ../Tichonius, an African Donatist/
 * ../Timotheus I., archbp. of Alexandria/
 * ../Timotheus, called Aelurus/
 * ../Timotheus Salofaciolus/
 * ../Timotheus, patriarch of Constantinople/
 * ../Titus, emperor/
 * ../Titus, bishop of Bostra/
 * ../Trajanus, M. Ulpius/
 * ../Trophimus, an Italian bishop/
 * ../Trophimus, 1st bishop of Arles/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/U

 * ../Ulfilas/
 * ../Urbanus, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Urbanus, bishop of Sicca Veneria/
 * ../Ursacius, bp. of Singidunum/
 * ../Ursinus, antipope/
 * ../Ursula/


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/V

 * ../Valens, Arian bp. of Mursa/
 * ../Valens, emperor/
 * ../Valentinianus/
 * ../Valentinianus/
 * ../Valentinianus III/
 * ../Valentinus, founder of a Gnostic sect/
 * ../Valerianus, emperor/
 * ../Valerianus, martyr/
 * ../Valerius/
 * ../Verecundus/
 * ../Veronica/
 * ../Vespasianus, Titus Flavius/
 * ../Vettius Epagathus/
 * ../Victor, bishop of Rome/
 * ../Victor, Claudius Marius/
 * ../Victor Vitensis/
 * ../Victor, bishop of Capua/
 * ../Victor Tununensis/
 * ../Victorinus/
 * ../Victorinus_Afer/
 * ../Victorius of Aquitaine/
 * ../Victricius/
 * ../Victurinus/
 * ../Vigilantius/
 * ../Vigilius Thapsensis/
 * ../Vigilius, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Vincentius/
 * ../Vincentius Lirinensis/
 * ../Vitalius/
 * ../Vitus/
 * ../Volusianus/


text: Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/W


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/X

 * ../Xystus/


text: Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/Y


text:
Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century/Z

 * ../Zeno/
 * ../Zephyrinus/
 * ../Zoaras/
 * ../Zosimus, bp. of Rome/
 * ../Zosimus (5)/


text: Index:History of the Anti corn law league.pdf


text:
Page:Confederate Military History - 1899 - Volume 7.djvu/521

 confusion, I am proud to state that the Twentieth Mississippi stood like a stone wall to protect General Floyd and his Virginia regiment while embarking; and when the last hope had vanished of getting aboard according to the orders and promises of General Floyd, and we realized the sad fate that we had been surrendered, the regiment stacked arms, without the least intimidation, but full of regret. While this excitement was going on, General Buckner sent for me and informed me that unless the steamboat left the landing immediately he would have a bomb-shell thrown into it—that his honor as an officer and the honor and good faith of the Confederacy required that at daylight he should turn over everything under his command agreeably to the terms of capitulation with General Grant. I returned to the boat to make every effort to get aboard, but it had shoved off and was making up the river, with very few persons aboard."

It has been estimated that there were 3,364 Mississippians at Fort Donelson, of whom 115 were killed and 434 wounded, the survivors mainly being surrendered by their superior officers as stated. These casualties were about half of the total for the army of 13,000 or 14,000 men.

The surrender of Fort Donelson was an event which marks an epoch in the war history of the State. Soon afterward, the Confederate forces were gathered within her own boundaries to meet the Federal advance through Tennessee. After the fall of Fort Henry, which opened the Tennessee river to the Federal gunboats, the Ninth and Tenth regiments were ordered on duty to guard the river in Alabama.

General Beauregard was assigned to command in West Tennessee and of the army of the Mississippi, after Johnston's line had been cut in two on the Tennessee river. Under his orders Columbus was evacuated March 2d, and the Confederate defense of the upper Mississippi was to be made at Island No. 10 and New Madrid. General Daniel Ruggles was called to Corinth, and General Bragg


text: The Amateur Emigrant and The Silverado Squatters/The Amateur Emigrant/The Second Cabin


text:
User:Phy1729

=Latin Translations=
 * User:Phy1729/Aeneid
 * User:Phy1729/Catullus
 * User:Phy1729/Horace

title: User:Phy1729


text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/How It Strikes a Contemporary


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus

Catullus's Poems

 * Poem 1
 * Poem 2
 * Poem 3
 * Poem 4
 * Poem 5
 * Poem 7
 * Poem 8
 * Poem 10
 * Poem 11
 * Poem 12
 * Poem 13
 * Poem 14
 * Poem 22
 * Poem 30
 * Poem 31
 * Poem 35
 * Poem 36
 * Poem 43
 * Poem 44
 * Poem 45
 * Poem 46
 * Poem 49
 * Poem 50
 * Poem 51
 * Poem 65
 * Poem 68
 * Poem 69
 * Poem 70
 * Poem 72
 * Poem 76
 * Poem 77
 * Poem 84
 * Poem 85
 * Poem 86
 * Poem 87
 * Poem 96
 * Poem 101
 * Poem 109
 * Poem 116

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus


text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician


text:
Page:History of the Peloponnesian War.pdf/168

 him at Claros, cam voluntarily to notify the tidings. Paches set upon the chase with warmth, and pursued it as far as the isle of Latmos. But there giving up all hope of reaching him, he turned back again for his post; and


text:
Page:History of the Peloponnesian War.pdf/339

 themselves, confident there would be no engagement on this day. But, on a sudden, the


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 1

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added To whom do I give this new elegant little book recently polished with dry pumice? O Cornelus for you: and now you were accustomed to think the my nothings were something now then, when you, one of the Italians, dared to explain all history in three volumes learned, O Jupiter, and laborious. Therefore take for yourself whatever and whatever this book; which O patron maiden let it remain eternal for more than one age.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 1


text: Page:History of the Peloponnesian War.pdf/23


text:
One Word More

To E. B. B.

I

There they are, my fifty men and women Naming me the fifty poems finished! Take them, Love, the book and me together: Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also.

II

Rafael made a century of sonnets, Made and wrote them in a certain volume Dinted with the silver-pointed pencil Else he only used to draw Madonnas: These, the world might view—but one, the volume. Who that one, you ask? Your heart instructs you. Did she live and love it all her life-time? Did she drop, his lady of the sonnets, Die, and let it drop beside her pillow Where it lay in place of Rafael's glory, Rafael's cheek so duteous and so loving— Cheek, the world was wont to hail a painter's, Rafael's cheek, her love had turned a poet's?

III

You and I would rather read that volume, (Taken to his beating bosom by it) Lean and list the bosom-beats of Rafael, Would we not? than wonder at Madonnas— Her, San Sisto names, and Her, Foligno, Her, that visits Florence in a vision, Her, that's left with lilies in the Louvre— Seen by us and all the world in circle.

IV

You and I will never read that volume. Guido Reni, like his own eye's apple Guarded long the treasure-book and loved it. Guido Reni dying, all Bologna Cried, and the world cried too, "Ours, the treasure!" Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.

V

Dante once prepared to paint an angel: Whom to please? You whisper "Beatrice." While he mused and traced it and retraced it, (Peradventure with a pen corroded Still by drops of that hot ink he dipped for, When, his left-hand i' the hair o' the wicked, Back he held the brow and pricked its stigma, Bit into the live man's flesh, for parchment, Loosed him, laughed to see the writing rankle,            Let the wretch go festering through Florence)— Dante, who loved well because he hated, Hated wickedness that hinders loving, Dante standing, studying his angel— In there broke the folk of his Inferno. Says he—"Certain people of importance" Such he gave his daily dreadful line to) "Entered and would seize, forsooth, the poet." Says the poet—"Then I stopped my  painting."

VI

You and I would rather see that angel, Painted by the tenderness of Dante, Would we not?—than read a fresh Inferno.

VII

You and I will never see that picture. While he mused on love and Beatrice, While he softened o'er his outlined angel, In they broke, those "people of importance;" We and Bice bear the loss forever.

VIII

What of Rafael's sonnets, Dante's picture? This: no artist lives and loves, that longs not Once, and only once, and for one only, (Ah, the prize !) to find his love a language Fit and fair and simple and sufficient— Using nature that's an art to others, Not, this one time, art that's turned his nature. Ay, of all the artists living, loving, None but would forego his proper dowry— Does he paint? he fain would write a poem— Does he write? he fain would paint a picture, Put to proof art alien to the artist's, Once, and only once, and for one only, So to be the man and leave the artist, Gain the man's joy, miss the artist's sorrow.

IX

Wherefore? Heaven's gift takes earth's abatement! He who smites the rock and spreads the water, Bidding drink and live a crowd beneath him, Even he, the minute makes immortal, Proves, perchance, but mortal in the minute, Desecrates, belike, the deed in doing. While he smites, how can he but remember, So he smote before, in such a peril, When they stood and mocked—"Shall smiting help us?" When they drank and sneered—"A  stroke is easy!" When they wiped their mouths and went their journey, Throwing him for thanks—"But drought was pleasant." Thus old memories mar the actual triumph; Thus the doing savors of disrelish; Thus achievement lacks a gracious somewhat; O'er-importuned brows becloud the mandate, Carelessness or consciousness—the gesture. For he bears an ancient wrong about him, Sees and knows again those phalanxed faces, Hears, yet one time more, the 'customed prelude— "How shouldst thou, of all men, smite, and save us?" Guesses what is like to prove the sequel— "Egypt's flesh-pots-nay, the drought was better."

X

Oh, the crowd must have emphatic warrant! Theirs, the Sinai-forehead's cloven brilliance, Right-arm's rod-sweep, tongue's imperial fiat. Never dares the man put off the prophet.

XI

Did he love one face from out the thousands, (Were she Jethro's daughter, white and wifely, Were she but the Ethiopian bondslave), He would envy yon dumb patient camel, Keeping a reserve of scanty water Meant to save his own life in the desert; Ready in the desert to deliver (Kneeling down to let his breast be opened) Hoard and life together for his mistress.

XII

I shall never, in the years remaining, Paint you pictures, no, nor carve you statues, Make you music that should all-express me; So it seems: I stand on my attainment. This of verse alone, one life allows me; Verse and nothing else have I to give you. Other heights in other lives, God willing; All the gifts from all the heights, your own, Love!

XIII

Yet a semblance of resource avails us— Shade so finely touched, love's sense must seize it. Take these lines, look lovingly and nearly, Lines I write the first time and the last time. He who works in fresco, steals a hair brush, Curbs the liberal hand, subservient proudly, Cramps his spirit, crowds its all in little, Makes a strange art of an art familiar, Fills his lady's missal-marge with flowerets. He who blows thro' bronze, may breathe thro' silver, Fitly serenade a slumbrous princess. He who writes, may write for once as I do.

XIV

Love, you saw me gather men and women, Live or dead or fashioned by my fancy, Enter each and all, and use their service, Speak from every mouth—the speech, a poem. Hardly shall I tell my joys and sorrows, Hopes and tears, belief and disbelieving: I am mine and yours—the rest be all men's, Karshish, Cleon, Norbert and the fifty. Let me speak this once in my true person, Not as Lippo, Roland or Andrea, Though the fruit of speech be just this sentence; Pray you, look on these my men and women, Take and keep my fifty poems finished; Where my heart lies, let my brain lie also! Poor the speech; be how I speak, for all things.

XV

Not but that you know me! Lo, the moon's self! Here in London, yonder late in Florence, Still we find her face, the thrice-transfigured. Curving on a sky imbrued with color, Drifted over Fiesole by twilight, Came she, our new crescent of a hair's-breadth. Full she flared it, lamping Samminiato, Rounder 'twixt the cypresses and rounder, Perfect till the nightingales applauded. Now, a piece of her old self, impoverished, Hard to greet, she traverses the houseroofs, Hurries with unhandsome thrift of silver, Goes dispiritedly, glad to finish.

XVI

What, there's nothing in the moon noteworthy? Nay: for if that moon could love a mortal, Use, to charm him (so to fit a fancy), All her magic ('tis the old sweet mythos), She would turn a new side to her mortal, Side unseen of herdsman, huntsman, steersman— Blank to Zoroaster on his terrace, Blind to Galileo on his turret, Dumb to Homer, dumb to Keats—him, even! Think, the wonder of the moonstruck mortal— When she turns round, comes again in heaven, Opens out anew for worse or better! Proves she like some portent of an iceberg Swimming full upon the ship it founders, Hungry with huge teeth of splintered crystals? Proves she as the paved work of a sapphire Seen by Moses when he climbed the mountain? Moses, Aaron, Nadab and Abihu Climbed and saw the very God, the Highest, Stand upon the paved work of a sapphire. Like the bodied heaven in his clearness Shone the stone, the sapphire of that paved work, When they ate and drank and saw God also!

XVII

What were seen? None knows, none ever shall know. Only this is sure—the sight were other, Not the moon's same side, born late in Florence, Dying now impoverished here in London. God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her!

XVIII

This I say of me, but think of you, Love! This to you—yourself my moon of poets! Ah, but that's the world's side, there's the wonder, Thus they see you, praise you, think they know you! There, in turn I stand with them and praise you— Out of my own self, I dare to phrase it. But the best is when I glide from out them, Cross a step or two of dubious twilight, Come out on the other side, the novel Silent silver lights and darks undreamed of, Where I hush and bless myself with silence.

XIX

Oh, their Rafael of the dear Madonnas, Oh, their Dante of the dread Inferno, Wrote one song—and in my brain I sing it, Drew one angel—borne, see, on my bosom!

R. B.

title: One Word More


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Page:History of the Peloponnesian War.pdf/268

 opportunity of striking a blow, inasmuch as the contest must have been decided under the very walls of Argos, and in company with a numerous and gallant alliance. And hence, upon their return, at the Charadrum, the place where the crimes committed in an expedition are ajudged, before they enter the city, they were beginning to stone Thrasyllus, who, flying to an altar, escapeth with life: his effects, however, they confiscated to public use.

But, after this, came up the Athenian succour, consisting of a thousand heavy-armed and three hundred horsemen, commanded by Laches and Nicostratus. The Argives, who,


text: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 2

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 2


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 THREE DISCOURSES.

I. ON THE LIFE OF THUCYDIDES. II. ON HIS QUALIFICATIONS AS AN HISTORIAN. III. A SURVEY OF THE HISTORY.


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 territory of the Lacedemonians or confederates; the king to oppose, and with all his power to defend the party invaded."


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 96

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added If something pleasing or acceptable is able to reach silent groves from our grief, Calvus, by which longing we renew old loves and we mourn over friendships once lost, certainly untimely death is not so much grief for Quintilia, as much as she rejoices in your love.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 96


text:
Cleon (Browning)

 * "As certain also of your own poets have said"—

 * [An imaginary person. The poet quoted by St. Paul was Aratus, a native of Tarsus.]

Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea, And laugh their pride when the light wave lisps "Greece")— To Protus in his Tyranny: much health!

They give thy letter to me, even now: I read and seem as if I heard thee speak. The master of thy galley still unlades Gift after gift; they block my court at last And pile themselves along its portico Royal with sunset, like a thought of thee: And one white she-slave from the group dispersed Of black and white slaves (like the chequer-work Pavement, at once my nation's work and gift, Now covered with this settle-down of doves), One lyric woman, in her crocus vest Woven of sea-wools, with her two white hands Commends to me the strainer and the cup Thy lip hath bettered ere it blesses mine.

Well-counselled, king, in thy munificence! For so shall men remark, in such an act Of love for him whose song gives life its joy, Thy recognition of the use of life; Nor call thy spirit barely adequate To help on life in straight ways, broad enough For vulgar souls, by ruling and the rest. Thou, in the daily building of thy tower— Whether in fierce and sudden spasms of toil, Or through dim lulls of unapparent growth, Or when the general work 'mid good acclaim Climbed with the eye to cheer the architect— Didst ne'er engage in work for mere work's sake— Hadst ever in thy heart the luring hope Of some eventual rest a-top of it, Whence, all the tumult of the building hushed, Thou first of men mightst look out to the East: The vulgar saw thy tower, thou sawest the sun. For this, I promise on thy festival To pour libation, looking o'er the sea, Making this slave narrate thy fortunes, speak Thy great words, and describe thy royal face— Wishing thee wholly where Zeus lives the most, Within the eventual element of calm.

Thy letter's first requirement meets me here. It is as thou hast heard: in one short life I, Cleon, have effected all those things Thou wonderingly dost enumerate. That epos on thy hundred plates of gold Is mine—and also mine the little chant, So sure to rise from every fishing-bark When, lights at prow, the seamen haul their net. The image of the sun-god on the phare, Men turn from the sun's self to see, is mine; The Poecile, o'er-storied its whole length, As thou didst hear, with painting, is mine too. I know the true proportions of a man And woman also, not observed before; And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again. For music—why, I have combined the moods, Inventing one. In brief, all arts are mine; Thus much the people know and recognize, Throughout our seventeen islands. Marvel not. We of these latter days, with greater mind Than our forerunners, since more composite, Look not so great, beside their simple way, To a judge who only sees one way at once, One mind-point and no other at a time— Compares the small part of a man of us With some whole man of the heroic age, Great in his way—not ours, nor meant for ours. And ours is greater, had we skill to know: For, what we call this life of men on earth, This sequence of the soul's achievements here Being, as I find much reason to conceive, Intended to be viewed eventually. As a great whole, not analyzed to parts, But each part having reference to all— How shall a certain part, pronounced complete, Endure effacement by another part? Was the thing done?—then, what's to do again? See, in the chequered pavement opposite, Suppose the artist made a perfect rhomb, And next a lozenge, then a trapezoid— He did not overlay them, superimpose The new upon the old and blot it out, But laid them on a level in his work, Making at last a picture; there it lies. So, first the perfect separate forms were made, The portions of mankind; and after, so, Occurred the combination of the same. For where had been a progress, otherwise? Mankind, made up of all the single men— In such a synthesis the labor ends. Now mark me! those divine men of old time Have reached, thou sayest well, each at one point The outside verge that rounds our faculty; And where they reached, who can do more than reach? It takes but little water just to touch At some one point the inside of a sphere, And, as we turn the sphere, touch all the rest In due succession: but the finer air Which not so palpably nor obviously, Though no less universally, can touch The whole circumference of that emptied sphere, Fills it more fully than the water did; Holds thrice the weight of water in itself Resolved into a subtler element. And yet the vulgar call the sphere first full Up to the visible height—and after, void; Not knowing air's more hidden properties. And thus our soul, misknown, cries out to Zeus To vindicate his purpose in our life: Why stay we on the earth unless to grow? Long since, I imaged, wrote the fiction out, That he or other god descended here And, once for all, showed simultaneously What, in its nature, never can be shown, Piecemeal or in succession;—showed, I say, The worth both absolute and relative Of all his children from the birth of time, His instruments for all appointed work. I now go on to image—might we hear The judgment which should give the due to each, Show where the labor lay and where the ease, And prove Zeus' self, the latent everywhere! This is a dream;—but no dream, let us hope, That years and days, the summers and the springs, Follow each other with unwaning powers. The grapes which dye thy wine are richer far, Through culture, than the wild wealth of the rock; The wave plum than the savage-tasted drupe; The pastured honey-bee drops choicer sweet; The flowers turn double, and the leaves turn flowers; That young and tender crescent-moon, thy slave, Sleeping above her robe as buoyed by clouds, Refines upon the women of my youth. What, and the soul alone deteriorates? I have not chanted verse like Homer, no— Nor swept string like Terpander, no—nor carved And painted men like Phidias and his friend; I am not great as they are, point by point. But I have entered into sympathy With these four, running these into one soul, Who, separate, ignored each other's art. Say, is it nothing that I know them all? The wild flower was the larger; I have dashed Rose-blood upon its petals, pricked its cup's Honey with wine, and driven its seed to fruit, And show a better flower if not so large: I stand myself. Refer this to the gods Whose gift alone it is! which, shall I dare (All pride apart) upon the absurd pretext That such a gift by chance lay in my hand, Discourse of lightly or depreciate? It might have fallen to another's hand: what then? I pass too surely: let at least truth stay!

And next, of what thou followest on to ask. This being with me as I declare, O king, My works, in all these varicolored kinds, So done by me, accepted so by men— Thou askest, if (my soul thus in men's hearts) I must not be accounted to attain The very crown and proper end of life? Inquiring thence how, now life closeth up, I face death with success in my right hand: Whether I fear death less than dost thyself The fortunate of men? "For" (writest thou) "Thou leavest much behind, while I leave naught. Thy life stays in the poems men shall sing,              The pictures men shall study; while my life, Complete and whole now in its power and joy, Dies altogether with my brain and arm, Is lost indeed; since, what survives myself? The brazen statue to o'erlook my grave, See on the promontory which I named. And that—some supple courtier of my heir Shall use its robed and sceptred arm, perhaps, To fix the rope to, which best drags it down. I go then: triumph thou, who dost not go!"

Nay, thou art worthy of hearing my whole mind. Is this apparent, when thou turn'st to muse Upon the scheme of earth and man in chief, That admiration grows as knowledge grows? That imperfection means perfection hid, Reserved in part, to grace the after-time? If, in the morning of philosophy, Ere aught had been recorded, nay perceived, Thou, with the light now in thee, couldst have looked On all earth's tenantry, from worm to bird, Ere man, her last, appeared upon the stage— Thou wouldst have seen them perfect, and deduced The perfectness of others yet unseen. Conceding which—had Zeus then questioned thee "Shall I go on a step, improve on this, Do more for visible creatures than is done?" Thou wouldst have answered, "Ay, by making each Grow conscious in himself—by that alone. All's perfect else: the shell sucks fast the rock, The fish strikes through the sea, the snake both swims   And slides, forth range the beasts, the birds take flight, Till life's mechanics can no further go— And all this joy in natural life is put Like fire from off thy finger into each, So exquisitely perfect is the same. But 't is pure fire, and they mere matter are; It has them, not they it: and so I choose For man, thy last premeditated work (If I might add a glory to the scheme) That a third thing should stand apart from both,          A quality arise within his soul, Which, intro-active, made to supervise And feel the force it has, may view itself, And so be happy." Man might live at first The animal life: but is there nothing more? In due time, let him critically learn How he lives; and, the more he gets to know Of his own life's adaptabilities, The more joy-giving will his life become. Thus man, who hath this quality, is best.

But thou, king, hadst more reasonably said: "Let progress end at once—man make no step Beyond the natural man, the better beast, Using his senses, not the sense of sense." In man there's failure, only since he left The lower and inconscious forms of life. We called it an advance, the rendering plain Man's spirit might grow conscious of man's life, And, by new lore so added to the old, Take each step higher over the brute's head. This grew the only life, the pleasure-house, Watch-tower and treasure-fortress of the soul, Which whole surrounding flats of natural life Seemed only fit to yield subsistence to; A tower that crowns a country. But alas, The soul now climbs it just to perish there! For thence we have discovered ('t is no dream— We know  this, which we had not else perceived) That there's a world of capability For joy, spread round about us, meant for us, Inviting us; and still the soul craves all, And still the flesh replies, "Take no jot more Than ere thou clombst the tower to look abroad! Nay, so much less as that fatigue has brought Deduction to it." We struggle, fain to enlarge Our bounded physical recipiency, Increase our power, supply fresh oil to life, Repair the waste of age and sickness: no, It skills not! life's inadequate to joy, As the soul sees joy, tempting life to take. They praise a fountain in my garden here Wherein a Naiad sends the water-bow Thin from her tube; she smiles to see it rise. What if I told her, it is just a thread From that great river which the hills shut up, And mock her with my  leave to take the same? The artificer has given her one small tube Past power to widen or exchange—what boots To know she might spout oceans if she could? She cannot lift beyond her first thin thread; And so a man can use but a man's joy While he sees God's. Is it for Zeus to boast, "See, man, how happy I live, and despair— That I may be still happier—for thy use!" If this were so, we could not thank our Lord, As hearts beat on to doing; 'tis not so— Malice it is not. Is it carelessness? Still, no. If care—where is the sign? I ask, And get no answer, and agree in sum, O king, with thy profound discouragement, Who seest the wider but to sigh the more. Most progress is most failure: thou sayest well.

The last point now:—thou dost except a case— Holding joy not impossible to one With artist-gifts—to such a man as I Who leave behind me living works indeed; For, such a poem, such a painting lives. What? dost thou verily trip upon a word, Confound the accurate view of what joy is (Caught somewhat clearer by my eyes than thine) With feeling joy? confound the knowing how And showing how to live (my faculty) With actually living?—Otherwise Where is the artist's vantage o'er the king? Because in my great epos I display How divers men young, strong, fair, wise, can act— Is this as though I acted? if I paint, Carve the young Phoebus, am I therefore young? Methinks I'm older that I bowed myself The many years of pain that taught me art! Indeed, to know is something, and to prove How all this beauty might be enjoyed, is more; But, knowing naught, to enjoy is something too. Yon rower, with the moulded muscles there, Lowering the sail, is nearer it than I. I can write love-odes: thy fair slave's an ode. I get to sing of love, when grown too gray For being beloved: she turns to that young man, The muscles all a-ripple on his back. I know the joy of kingship: well, thou art king!

"But," sayest thou—(and I marvel, I repeat, To find thee trip on such a mere word) "what Thou writest, paintest, stays; that does not die: Sappho survives, because we sing her songs, And AEschylus, because we read his plays!" Why, if they live still, let them come and take Thy slave in my despite, drink from thy cup, Speak in my place. Thou diest while I survive? Say rather that my fate is deadlier still, In this, that every day my sense of joy Grows more acute, my soul (intensified By power and insight) more enlarged, more keen; While every day my hairs fall more and more, My hand shakes, and the heavy years increase— The horror quickening still from year to year, The consummation coming past escape When I shall know most, and yet least enjoy— When all my works wherein I prove my worth, Being present still to mock me in men's mouths, Alive still, in the praise of such as thou, I, I the feeling, thinking, acting man, The man who loved his life so over-much, Sleep in my urn. It is so horrible, I dare at times imagine to my need Some future state revealed to us by Zeus, Unlimited in capability For joy, as this is in desire for joy, —To seek which, the joy-hunger forces us: That, stung by straitness of our life, made strait On purpose to make prized the life at large— Freed by the throbbing impulse we call death, We burst there as the worm into the fly, Who, while a worm still, wants his wings. But no! Zeus has not yet revealed it; and alas, He must have done so, were it possible!

Live long and happy, and in that thought die; Glad for what was! Farewell. And for the rest, I cannot tell thy messenger aright Where to deliver what he bears of thine To one called Paulus; we have heard his fame Indeed, if Christus be not one with him— I know not, nor am troubled much to know. Thou canst not think a mere barbarian Jew, As Paulus proves to be, one circumcised, Hath access to a secret shut from us? Thou wrongest our philosophy, O king, In stooping to inquire of such an one, As if his answer could impose at all! He writeth, doth he? well, and he may write. Oh, the Jew findeth scholars! certain slaves Who touched on this same isle, preached him and Christ; And (as I gathered from a bystander) Their doctrine could be held by no sane man.

title: Cleon (Browning)


text:
Page:History of the Peloponnesian War.pdf/33

 was democratical in name, but in effect monarchical under Pericles." He praiseth, it is true, the administration at both these periods; and he also praiseth the good effects resulting from an administration lodged in the hands of five thousand men. Under Pericles


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User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 109

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added My life, you promise to me that out love would be pleasant and perpetual between us. Great gods, make [it so] that she is able to promise truly, and she said it honestly and from her heart, that it is permitted for us to lead our whole life [in] this eternal promise of sacred friendship.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 109


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 116

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added Often I seeking with an eager hunting heart how I might be able to send you the poems of Callimachus, by which I might sooth you to me, nor may you send hostile weapons against my head, I see now that this labor has been undertaken by me in vain, Gellus, nor have my prayer prevailed in this. We will evade those spears that have been launched against us: but you pierced by our poems will give as a suppliant.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 116


text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/Bishop Blougram's Apology


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 70

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added My wife says that she herself prefers to be married to no one than me, not [even] if Jupiter himself seeks her. She said: but what a wife says to a desiring lover, is necessary to be written in the wind and rapid waters.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 70


text: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 85

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 85


text:
User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 87

{| border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="7" style="font-size: 90%;" !Original Latin!!Literal English Translation To be added No wife is able to say truly she herself was loved as much as only my Lesbia was loved by me. No faith was ever so great in any pact, as was found in love from my part for you.

title: User:Phy1729/Catullus/Poem 87


text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/Master Hugues of Saxe-Gotha


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 beneficial effect. It will be noticed that the agreement (it has not been made public, but I was able to see a copy) provides for the collection of taxes by the bank. This in itself involves a most important reform. It has been the custom, under the Korean regime, to farm out the collection of the taxes to the local magistrates, with the same evil results that have always accompanied the system everywhere. This agreement marks the first encroachment of the Japanese upon the purely local functions of the Korean Government.

However, promising as this plan seems to be in helping to straighten out the tangled financial system of the kingdom, it was not considered an entirely wise measure by some men (foreigners) of recognized ability and long experience in Korean fiscal affairs, who pointed out imperfections in its proposed modus operandi. When the plan was put into effect these forebodings were amply realized. The circumstances under which the old nickels were redeemable created difficulties that led to great confusion and worked injustice upon thousands of the poorer classes and merchants, while at the same time bringing, through manipulation, considerable profit to certain classes of Japanese. Riots occurred in places, which the Japanese military suppressed with scant ceremony. The merchants appealed to the Emperor for relief, and, although he was not responsible for the condition complained of, he made a loan out of his private purse to relieve the panic. It is perhaps too soon to condemn this attempt of the Japanese to reform the financial system of the country (it certainly

title: Page:The New Far East (1906).djvu/111


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 value received or Russian currency. It is estimated that millions of dollars were "squeezed" out of the Chinese population by this process, which represented, as a rule, a dead loss to those classes which can least afford it. Later the war notes recovered somewhat, and when I was last in Manchuria the ordinary receiver, who took them at par, did not lose on an average more than ten per cent. Thus, with produce rising in value and growing scarcer, with prices and wages declining, and a depreciated currency backed by no specie reserve so far as I could learn, but which they were compelled to accept, it is no wonder that the Chinese in Manchuria grew discontented. The average Chinese is incapable of clearly reasoning from cause to effect through a period of any extent, and he naturally, as he compares his present situation with his prosperity under Russian control, attributes his misfortunes entirely to the Japanese administration. And there is no doubt that the Japanese, in their personal relations with them, treat the Chinese with more severity than did the Russians. This statement will surprise many whose idea of a Russian is represented by the pictures which in a time of disorder in Russia are kept standing with slight alterations in the London illustrated newspapers, and in which a Cossack is usually represented applying a knout to some unfortunate, or impaling a child upon his lance. But I assert it to be substantially a fact, nevertheless. An English resident of Manchuria, in speaking to me upon the way the Japanese authorities have succeeded

title: Page:The New Far East (1906).djvu/172


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


text:
Page:The New Far East (1906).djvu/18

 THE NEW FAR EAST

title: Page:The New Far East (1906).djvu/18


text:
Evelyn Hope

 * "Evelyn Hope" in Men and Women (1855)
 * "Evelyn Hope" in The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English language (1904), edited by Adam Luke Gowans

title: Evelyn Hope


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


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 ments published in the Japanese press that the two Western powers are in hearty accord with and prepared to back the Japanese policy; and any reversal in their present attitude will be bitterly resented. In this connection it should be remembered that Japanese policy as it now appears to Americans is very different from the idea obtaining in Japan. Of course, Japanese statesmen know the real facts; but a wide intellectual gulf separates the oligarchy from the people. It may be that Japanese statesmen hope to get British and American investors so deeply involved that they will be impelled by their own interests to keep Japan financially afloat; and that this will also operate against a possible revulsion of Western popular sentiment.

On the whole, I cannot see a very flattering future for Japan in this showing. And if there are important facts and circumstances of opposite tendency I have been unable to discover them. One hears much optimistic talk, but probe it a bit for facts and it evaporates. It is clear that no matter what may be the details of Japan's real designs and ambitions, no one expects that one of their features will be military retrenchment. Quite the contrary is anticipated. One of the effects of the war is to eliminate Russia temporarily as a naval factor in the Pacific, and the fact that this is not assumed to imply a relaxation of Japan's energy in naval matters throws a beam of light upon her intentions. A new and more powerful navy is contemplated. For what! Success is a great stimulant,

title: Page:The New Far East (1906).djvu/65


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 to Japan so soon as possible after the exchange of statements as above provided the difference between the actual amount so expended by Japan and the actual amount similariy disbursed by Russia.

"ARTICLE FOURTEEN. — The present treaty shall be ratified by their Majesties the Emperor of Japan and the Emperor of All the Russias. Such ratification shall be with as little delay as possible and in any case no later than fifty days from the date of the signature of the treaty, to be announced to the Imperial Governments of Japan and Russia respectively through the French minister at Tokyo and the ambassador of the United States at St. Petersburg and from the date of the later of such announcements this treaty shall in all its parts come into full force. The formal exchange of ratifications shall take place at Washington so soon as possible.

"ARTICLE FIFTEEN. — The present treaty shall be signed in duplicate in both the English and French languages. The texts are in absolute conformity, but in case of a discrepancy in the interpretation the French text shall prevail.

"In conformity with the provisions of Articles Three and Nine of the treaty of peace between Japan and Russia of this date the undersigned plenipotentiaries have concluded the following additional articles:

"Sub-Article to Article Three—The Imperial Governments of Japan and Russia mutually engage to commence the withdrawal of their military forces from the Territory of Manchuria simultaneously and immediately after the treaty of peace comes into operation and within a period of eighteen months after that date the armies of the two countries shall be completely withdrawn from Manchuria except from the leased territory of the Liaotung Peninsula. The forces of the two countries occupying the front positions shall first be withdrawn.

"The high contracting parties reserve to themselves the right to maintain guards to protect their respective railway lines in Manchuria. The number of such guards shall not exceed fifteen per kilometre and within that maximum number the commanders of the Japanese and Russian armies shall by common accord fix the number of such guards to be employed as small as possible while having in view the actual requirements.

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text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/A Lovers' Quarrel


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14 But Hermann was not the man to be thus put off. Every day Lizaveta received from him a letter, sent now in this way, now in that. They were no longer translated from the German. Hermann wrote them under the inspiration of passion, and spoke in his own language, and they bore full testimony to the inflexibility of his desire and the disordered condition of his uncontrollable imagination. Lizaveta no longer thought of sending them back to him: she became intoxicated with them and began to reply to them, and little by little her answers became longer and more affectionate. At last she threw out of the window to him the following letter:

"This evening there is going to be a ball at the Embassy. The Countess will be there. We shall remain until two o'clock. You have now an opportunity of seeing me alone. As soon as the Countess is gone, the servants will very probably go out, and there will be nobody left but the Swiss, but he usually goes to sleep in his lodge. Come about half-past eleven. Walk straight upstairs. If you meet anybody in the ante-room, ask if the Countess is at home. You will be told 'No,' in which case there will be nothing left for you to do but to go away again. But it is most probable that you will meet nobody. The maidservants will all be together in one room. On leaving the ante-room, turn to the left, and walk straight on until you reach the Countess's bedroom. In the bedroom, behind a screen, you will find two doors: the one on the right leads to a cabinet, which the Countess never enters; the one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of which is a little winding staircase; this leads to my room."

Hermann trembled like a tiger, as he waited for the appointed time to arrive. At ten o'clock in the evening he was already in front of the Countess's house. The weather was terrible; the wind blew with great violence; the sleety snow fell in large flakes; the lamps emitted a feeble light, the streets were deserted; from time to time a sledge, drawn by a sorry-looking hack, passed by, on the look-out for a belated passenger. Hermann was enveloped in a thick overcoat, and felt neither wind nor snow.

At last the Countess's carriage drew up. Hermann saw

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 APPENDIX A THE ANGLO-JAPANESE ALLIANCE

The following text of the existing alliance between England and Japan is that given out officially by the British Government, and published in various newspapers in England and America:

"The Governments of Great Britain and Japan, being desirous of replacing the agreement concluded between them on Jan. 30, 1902, by fresh stipulations, have agreed upon the following articles, which have for their object:

"A — The consolidation and maintenance of general peace in the regions of Eastern Asia and India.

"B — The preservation of the common interests of all the powers in China by insuring the independence and integrity of the Chinese Empire and the principle of equal opportunities for the commerce and industry of all nations in China.

"C — The maintenance of the territorial rights of the high contracting parties in the regions of Eastern Asia and of India and the defense of their special interests in the said regions.

"ARTICLE I. — It is agreed that whenever in the opinion of either Great Britain or Japan any of the rights and interests referred to in the preamble to this agreement are in jeopardy, the two Governments will communicate with one another fully and frankly, and will consider in common the measures which should be taken to safeguard those menaced rights or interests.

"ARTICLE II. — Should either of the high contracting parties be involved in war in defence of its territorial rights or special interests, the other party will at once come to the assistance of its ally, and both parties will conduct a war in common and make peace in mutual

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 England and Japan fully recognize this is indicated by their alliance. Why, unless she still fears Russia, does England apparently sacrifice desires in other directions to assure the assistance of Japan should the Indian frontier be attacked? There is a logical foundation for the belief, entertained by some statesmen in Europe, that England was practically forced into the present alliance to prevent Japan from reaching a reciprocal agreement with Russia. And does not this assumption imply the existence of a certain harmony between the designs and intentions of Russia and Japan in eastern Asia, or, to speak more exactly, a disposition to compromise in advance a possible future collision?

This leads, inevitably, when the whole situation is considered, to the question: Has England sacrificed the "open door," with its now doubtful advantages to her, to the more certain and definite benefit of the security of her Indian frontier and her "sphere of influence" in China?

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text: Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/Memorabilia


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Burt v. Panjaud/Concurrence Field

MR. JUSTICE FIELD concurring.

I agree with the court that the juror Holmes, in this case, could not be required to answer the questions put to him; but I go further. I do not think that the act of Congress, which requires a test oath as to past conduct, and thereby excludes a great majority of the citizens of one-half the country from the jury-box, is valid. In my judgment, the act is not only oppressive and odious, and repugnant to the spirit of our institutions, but is unconstitutional and void. As a war measure, to be enforced in the insurgent States when dominated by the national forces, it could be sustained; but after the war was over, and those States were restored to their normal and constitutional relations to the Union, it was as much out of place and as inoperative as would be a law quartering a soldier in every Southern man's house.

title: Burt v. Panjaud/Concurrence Field


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Atwood v. Weems/Concurrence Field

MR. JUSTICE FIELD concurring.

I agree with my associates that the jurors summoned in this case could not be required to make oath whether they had participated in, or given aid and comfort to, the late rebellion against the government of the United States. And I also agree with the court below as to the unconstitutionality of the act which excludes from the jury persons who decline to take such oath.

Undoubtedly Congress may prescribe the qualifications of jurors in the Federal courts, and declare the causes of disqualification and challenge. But if any of these causes by the commission of an act which the law has made a public offence, it is not competent for the court to go into an investigation to determine the guilt or innocence of the juror. That is to be ascertained only in one way,-by a separate trial of the party upon an indictment for the offence; and the only competent evidence in such case is the record of his conviction or acquittal. It would be a strange and unprecedented thing for a court, upon the challenge of a juror, to go into a side trial, whether he had committed a felony, such as highway robbery, arson, or murder. No one would contend that such a procedure is admissible; and if not in those cases, it is not admissible in any case where the commission of a public offence is the ground of challenge.

The court may take judicial notice, from the existence of war, that a whole people are public enemies; but it cannot take judicial notice that a whole people, or individuals of it, have violated the municipal laws of the country. If such violation be relied upon to exclude a person from becoming a witness or a juror, it must be shown, not by evidence of what others may have seen or heard, but by the record of the party's conviction.

title: Atwood v. Weems/Concurrence Field


text:
Old Pictures in Florence

I

The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As I leaned and looked over the aloed arch Of the villa-gate this warm March day,

No flash snapped, no dumb thunder rolled In the valley beneath where, white and wide And washed by the morning water-gold, Florence lay out on the mountain-side.

II

River and bridge and street and square Lay mine, as much at my beck and call, Through the live translucent bath of air, As the sights in a magic crystal ball. And of all I saw and of all I praised, The most to praise and the best to see Was the startling bell-tower Giotto raised: But why did it more than startle me?

III

Giotto, how, with that soul of yours, Could you play me false who loved you so? Some slights if a certain heart endures Yet it feels, I would have your fellows know! I' faith, I perceive not why I should care To break a silence that suits them best, But the thing grows somewhat hard to bear When I find a Giotto join the rest.

IV

On the arch where olives overhead Print the blue sky with twig and leaf, (That sharp-curled leaf which they never shed) 'Twixt the aloes, I used to lean in chief, And mark through the winter afternoons, By a gift God grants me now and then, In the mild decline of those suns like moons, Who walked in Florence, besides her men.

V

They might chirp and chaffer, come and go For pleasure or profit, her men alive— My business was hardly with them, I trow, But with empty cells of the human hive; —With the chapter-room, the cloister-porch, The church's apsis, aisle or nave, Its crypt, one fingers along with a torch, Its face set full for the sun to shave.

VI

Wherever a fresco peels and drops, Wherever an outline weakens and wanes Till the latest life in the painting stops, Stands One whom each fainter pulse-tick pains: One, wishful each scrap should clutch the brick, Each tinge not wholly escape the plaster, —A lion who dies of an ass's kick, The wronged great soul of an ancient Master.

VII

For oh, this world and the wrong it does They are safe in heaven with their backs to it, The Michaels and Rafaels, you hum and buzz Round the works of, you of the little wit! Do their eyes contract to the earth's old scope, Now that they see God face to face, And have all attained to be poets, I hope? 'Tis their holiday now, in any case.

VIII

Much they reck of your praise and you! But the wronged great souls—can they be quit Of a world where their work is all to do, Where you style them, you of the little wit, Old Master This and Early the Other, Not dreaming that Old and New are fellows: A younger succeeds to an elder brother, Da Vincis derive in good time from Dellos.

IX

And here where your praise might yield returns, And a handsome word or two give help, Here, after your kind, the mastiff girns And the puppy pack of poodles yelp. What, not a word for Stefano there, Of brow once prominent and starry, Called Nature's Ape and the world's despair For his peerless painting? (See Vasari.)

X

There stands the Master. Study, my friends, What a man's work comes to! So he plans it, Performs it, perfects it, makes amends For the toiling and moiling, and then, sic transit! Happier the thrifty blind-folk labour, With upturned eye while the hand is busy, Not sidling a glance at the coin of their neighbour! 'Tis looking downward that makes one dizzy.

XI

"If you knew their work you would deal your dole." May I take upon me to instruct you? When Greek Art ran and reached the goal, Thus much had the world to boast in fructu— The Truth of Man, as by God first spoken, Which the actual generations garble, Was re-uttered, and Soul (which Limbs betoken) And Limbs (Soul informs) made new in marble.

XII

So, you saw yourself as you wished you were, As you might have been, as you cannot be; Earth here, rebuked by Olympus there: And grew content in your poor degree With your little power, by those statues' godhead, And your little scope, by their eyes' full sway, And your little grace, by their grace embodied, And your little date, by their forms that stay.

XIII

You would fain be kinglier, say, than I am? Even so, you will not sit like Theseus. You would prove a model? The Son of Priam Has yet the advantage in arms' and knees' use. You're wroth—can you slay your snake like Apollo? You're grieved—still Niobe's the grander! You live—there's the Racers' frieze to follow: You die—there's the dying Alexander.

XIV

So, testing your weakness by their strength, Your meagre charms by their rounded beauty, Measured by Art in your breadth and length, You learned—to submit is a mortal's duty. —When I say "you" 'tis the common soul, The collective, I mean: the race of Man That receives life in parts to live in a whole, And grow here according to God's clear plan.

XV

Growth came when, looking your last on them all, You turned your eyes inwardly one fine day And cried with a start—What if we so small Be greater and grander the while than they? Are they perfect of lineament, perfect of stature? In both, of such lower types are we Precisely because of our wider nature; For time, theirs—ours, for eternity.

XVI

To-day's brief passion limits their range; It seethes with the morrow for us and more. They are perfect—how else? they shall never change: We are faulty—why not? we have time in store. The Artificer's hand is not arrested With us; we are rough-hewn, nowise polished: They stand for our copy, and, once invested With all they can teach, we shall see them abolished.

XVII

'Tis a life-long toil till our lump be leaven— The better! What's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth, we shall practise in heaven: Works done least rapidly, Art most cherishes. Thyself shalt afford the example, Giotto! Thy one work, not to decrease or diminish, Done at a stroke, was just (was it not?) "O!" Thy great Campanile is still to finish.

XVIII

Is it true that we are now, and shall be hereafter, But what and where depend on life's minute? Hails heavenly cheer or infernal laughter Our first step out of the gulf or in it? Shall Man, such step within his endeavour, Man's face, have no more play and action Than joy which is crystallized for ever, Or grief, an eternal petrifaction?

XIX

On which I conclude, that the early painters, To cries of "Greek Art and what more wish you?"— Replied, "To become now self-acquainters, "And paint man man, whatever the issue! "Make new hopes shine through the flesh they fray, "New fears aggrandize the rags and tatters: "To bring the invisible full into play! "Let the visible go to the dogs—what matters?"

XX

Give these, I exhort you, their guerdon and glory For daring so much, before they well did it. The first of the new, in our race's story, Beats the last of the old; 'tis no idle quiddit. The worthies began a revolution, Which if on earth you intend to acknowledge, Why, honour them now! (ends my allocution) Nor confer your degree when the folk leave college.

XXI

There's a fancy some lean to and others hate— That, when this life is ended, begins New work for the soul in another state, Where it strives and gets weary, loses and wins: Where the strong and the weak, this world's congeries, Repeat in large what they practised in small, Through life after life in unlimited series; Only the scale's to be changed, that's all.

XXII

Yet I hardly know. When a soul has seen By the means of Evil that Good is best, And, through earth and its noise, what is heaven's serene,— When our faith in the same has stood the test— Why, the child grown man, you burn the rod, The uses of labour are surely done; There remaineth a rest for the people of God: And I have had troubles enough, for one.

XXIII

But at any rate I have loved the season Of Art's spring-birth so dim and dewy; My sculptor is Nicolo the Pisan, My painter—who but Cimabue? Nor ever was man of them all indeed, From these to Ghiberti and Ghirlandaio, Could say that he missed my critic-meed. So, now to my special grievance—heigh ho!

XXIV

Their ghosts still stand, as I said before, Watching each fresco flaked and rasped, Blocked up, knocked out, or whitewashed o'er: —No getting again what the church has grasped! The works on the wall must take their chance; "Works never conceded to England's thick clime!" (I hope they prefer their inheritance Of a bucketful of Italian quick-lime.)

XXV

When they go at length, with such a shaking Of heads o'er the old delusion, sadly Each master his way through the black streets taking, Where many a lost work breathes though badly— Why don't they bethink them of who has merited? Why not reveal, while their pictures dree Such doom, how a captive might be out-ferreted? Why is it they never remember me?

XXVI

Not that I expect the great Bigordi, Nor Sandro to hear me, chivalric, bellicose; Nor the wronged Lippino; and not a word I Say of a scrap of Fra Angelico's: But are you too fine, Taddeo Gaddi, To grant me a taste of your intonaco, Some Jerome that seeks the heaven with a sad eye? Not a churlish saint, Lorenzo Monaco?

XXVII

Could not the ghost with the close red cap, My Pollajolo, the twice a craftsman, Save me a sample, give me the hap Of a muscular Christ that shows the draughtsman? No Virgin by him the somewhat petty, Of finical touch and tempera crumbly— Could not Alesso Baldovinetti Contribute so much, I ask him humbly?

XXVIII

Margheritone of Arezzo, With the grave-clothes garb and swaddling barret (Why purse up mouth and beak in a pet so, You bald old saturnine poll-clawed parrot?) Not a poor glimmering Crucifixion, Where in the foreground kneels the donor? If such remain, as is my conviction, The hoarding it does you but little honour.

XXIX

They pass; for them the panels may thrill, The tempera grow alive and tinglish; Their pictures are left to the mercies still Of dealers and stealers, Jews and the English, Who, seeing mere money's worth in their prize, Will sell it to somebody calm as Zeno At naked High Art, and in ecstasies Before some clay-cold vile Carlino!

XXX

No matter for these! But Giotto, you, Have you allowed, as the town-tongues babble it,— Oh, never! it shall not be counted true— That a certain precious little tablet Which Buonarroti eyed like a lover,— Was buried so long in oblivion's womb And, left for another than I to discover, Turns up at last! and to whom?—to whom?

XXXI

I, that have haunted the dim San Spirito, (Or was it rather the Ognissanti?) Patient on altar-step planting a weary toe! Nay, I shall have it yet! Detur amanti! My Koh-i-noor-or (if that's a platitude) Jewel of Giamschid, the Persian Sofi's eye So, in anticipative gratitude, What if I take up my hope and prophesy?

XXXII

When the hour grows ripe, and a certain dotard Is pitched, no parcel that needs invoicing, To the worse side of the Mont Saint Gothard, We shall begin by way of rejoicing; None of that shooting the sky (blank cartridge), Nor a civic guard, all plumes and lacquer, Hunting Radetzky's soul like a partridge Over Morello with squib and cracker.

XXXIII

This time we'll shoot better game and bag 'em hot— No mere display at the stone of Dante, But a kind of sober Witanagemot (Ex: "Casa Guidi," quod videas ante) Shall ponder, once Freedom restored to Florence, How Art may return that departed with her. Go, hated house, go each trace of the Loraine's, And bring us the days of Orgagna hither!

XXXIV

How we shall prologize, how we shall perorate, Utter fit things upon art and history, Feel truth at blood-heat and falsehood at zero rate, Make of the want of the age no mystery; Contrast the fructuous and sterile eras, Show—monarchy ever its uncouth cub licks Out of the bear's shape into Chimæra's, While Pure Art's birth is still the republic's.

XXXV

Then one shall propose in a speech (curt Tuscan, Expurgate and sober, with scarcely an "issimo,") To end now our half-told tale of Cambuscan, And turn the bell-tower's alt to altissimo: And fine as the beak of a young beccaccia The Campanile, the Duomo's fit ally, Shall soar up in gold full fifty braccia, Completing Florence, as Florence Italy.

XXXVI

Shall I be alive that morning the scaffold Is broken away, and the long-pent fire, Like the golden hope of the world, unbaffled Springs from its sleep, and up goes the spire While "God and the People" plain for its motto, Thence the new tricolour flaps at the sky? At least to foresee that glory of Giotto And Florence together, the first am I!

title: Old Pictures in Florence


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 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE VOL. III.


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Rh experienced men are convinced that the country thereabouts is eminently worth exploiting, and will yet prove of great value to South Australia. A few months after his return Mr. Lindsay revisited Port Darwin to report for an English syndicate on the extensive gold-bearing areas in the Northern Territory. He carefully inspected several mines, and then proved his stamina and bravery by a notable ride. In company with a black boy, he set forth on horses from Port Darwin, and rode over the whole stretch of country between the north and south coasts of Australia. The season was a dry one, and those who have gone into the uninhabited interior will know what that means to the traveller. The total distance is 1,400 miles, over deserts and long waterless tracts. In one stage he travelled seventy-five miles without water, and in another, sixty miles. This, over loose sand and beneath a burning sun, is a hard trial for the horse, and demands excellent judgment from the rider. The journey from Port Darwin to Alice Springs was done in five weeks.

The whole of the year 1888 was spent in an expedition to the McDonnell Ranges in search of precious stones and minerals. In those massive and highly mineralised ranges which bisect North and South Australia he discovered the first deposit of payable mica in the continent, and also acquired much other valuable information, which has given rise to considerable speculation as to the great wealth of those regions. A shipment of 16 cwt. of mica was sent to London, but although the product was high class, and of large size, it brought on sale the paltry sum of 1s. 6d. per cwt. This was due to the operations of a "corner" of mica brokers; an industry was then and there strangled. Since that time a further attempt has been made, and similar mica now brings from 7s. to 10s. a lb.

Upon his return to the capital the Broken Hill silver boom was rising to its highest inflation. The principal stocks were held in Adelaide, and nearly the whole population dreamt dreams of illimitable silver wealth. Few escaped the abnormal fever, and the "corner" and stock exchanges daily rang with the turmoil of eager, elbowing crowds. It was very natural that Mr. Lindsay's adventurous temperament should lead him into this turgid throng. He went on the Exchange and became a sharebroker. During the period from 1889 to 1891 he made some heavy deals, and his total turnover of capital amounted to an immense sum. However, the finality of the reaction found him little better off than when he began.

The late Sir Thomas Elder, whose contributions of funds towards the exploration of Australia have been immense, and who, out of his princely wealth, laudably strove in every way to benefit the country wherein he amassed his fortune, now proposed to the South Australian branch of the Australasian Geographical Society to equip a party to complete the exploration of Australia, and to add to the scientific knowledge of her flora and fauna. The plan of the proposed expedition was to penetrate the unknown areas so that the whole continent might be topographically marked out. Gentlemen of scientific attainments were chosen to accompany the party, and David Lindsay was justly appointed the leader. This was the great opportunity of his career, and he was the most anxious of all to get to his task. That the expedition, the results of which were decidedly important, was not more significantly successful was not the fault of Lindsay. The party, which consisted of fourteen men and forty-four camels, was, perhaps, the best equipped which ever strove to explore Australia, but among the scientific officers were some whose characters unsuited them to a position in an Australian exploring expedition. Consequently friction arose, culminating in the dismissal of two officers and the subsequent resignation of two others.

At the beginning of the winter of 1891 Lindsay and his party left Adelaide and proceeded to the terminus of the transcontinental railway line at Warrina. There they mustered all their forces, their provisions and accoutrements. Then the leader despatched farewell telegrams to Adelaide and started on the lonely journey. He took a westerly course, his aim being to explore all that great unknown tract which lies between the explorations of Giles and Forrest, a total distance of 900 miles. He early recognised that the season was a most unpropitious one, and, unless rain quickly fell, that the plans of the expedition would have to be curtailed. Not having the pleasure of a sight of his journal we cannot here go into that detail of his travel which is so interesting, nor have we the space. At any rate, much new country was seen, and an account of it was given to the world. A striking feature of the journey was the wonderful powers of endurance shown by the camels, and the world's record, so far as is known, was made in the distance and time that they went without water. At Mount Squires, discovered by Ernest Giles in 1874, they obtained ample water in a huge rock-hole, and then the more inhospitable and deserted regions were entered. Mr. Linday sent casks of water twenty-five miles from Mount Squires, where, on the second day out, he gave the camels two and a half gallons of water each, and on the ninth day two and a half gallons more out of a small rock-hole. Thenceforth, for eighteen days, traversing sand hills in hot weather, and while heavily loaded, not a drop of water did the dromedaries have. This is a remarkable feat, and shows to what use the ships of the desert may be put. There was little more pasturage than water, which served to accentuate the trial. Mr. Lindsay proceeded to the Victoria Springs (which saved Giles in his trip in 1875), where he hoped to obtain the precious liquid, but they were dry. By sinking fifteen feet he was only able to obtain sixty gallons in twenty-four hours, and, helped by forty gallons from the casks, two and a half gallons each was all that could be given to the parched animals. They had now to hurry as rapidly as possible to the nearest certain water, which was at Fraser's Range. It took them eight days to accomplish this stage, and the camels at last obtained sufficient water and fair feed. They had thus travelled 550 miles in thirty-five days on seven and a half gallons of water each, and so carefully was their strength conserved by Mr. Lindsay that only one animal died from the effects of the severe strain.

Desiring to give the camels a thorough rest, Mr. Lindsay left them and the members of his party at Fraser's Range, and with a black boy pushed on to Esperance Bay to report progress and obtain instructions. This route was 160 miles long, and he arrived at the Port in October, 1891, after having passed over much new country in his travel from one colony to another. At Esperance he telegraphed to the Geographical Society at Adelaide, advising them that there had been a three years' drought in the interior, and that it was impossible for him to go back into the desert country. He expressed the opinion that there was auriferous country to be explored between Dundas and the Murchison, and if they were able to discover water after leaving Hampton Plains, said they could map out this belt. He obtained the sanction of the Society to thus alter his route, returned to the party at Fraser's Range, and made for Hampton plains, but

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 battle, could be compared only to wasps or magpies, to a flight  of cranes, or to a flock of geese.

A suspicion may possibly arise that so unfavourable a picture of ecclcsiastical synods has been drawn by the partial hand of some obstinate heretic or some malicious infidel. But the name of the sincere historian who has conveyed this instructive lesson to the knowledge of posterity must silence the impotent murmurs of superstition and bigotry. He was one of the most pious and eloquent bishops of the age; a saint and a doctor of the church; the scourge of Arianism, and the pillar of the orthodox faith; a distinguished member of the council of Constantinople, in which, after the death of Meletius, he exercised the functions of president: in a word — Gregory Nazianzen himself. The harsh and ungenerous treatment which he experienced, instead of derogating from the truth of his evidence, affords an additional proof of the spirit which actuated the deliberations of the synod. Their unanimous suffrage had confirmed the pretensions which the bishop of Constantinople derived from the choice of the people and the approbation of the emperor. But Gregory soon became the victim of malice and envy. The bishops of the East, his strenuous adherents, provoked by his moderation in the affairs of Antioch, abandoned him, without support, to the adverse faction of the Egyptians; who disputed the validity of his election, and rigorously asserted the obsolete canon that prohibited the licentious practice of episcopal translations. The pride, or the humility, of Gregory prompted him to decline a contest which might have been imputed to ambition and avarice; and he publicly offered, not without some mixture of indignation, to renounce the government of a church which had been restored, and almost created, by his labours. His resignation was accepted by the synod, and by the emperor, with more readiness than he seems to have expected. At the time, when he might have hoped to enjoy the fruits of his victory, his episcopal throne was filled by the senator Nectarius;


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 no water was to be found, and he had to again change his course and go west. Passing through saltbush country and deserts his difficulties increased. The camels stopped feeding and the outlook was decidedly discouraging. He did not allow these hardships to affect his work, and, with the other officials, was able to supply useful data of the country visited. From the north side of Lake Lefroy he turned west towards Southern Cross, and passed through what are now the world known Coolgardie Goldfields. At Hunt's Dam, at present known as Karalee, a little water was found in the rocks, a shower of rain having fallen a short time before, and the camels were given a drink—the first for twelve days. For five previous days the most of them had not eaten. He succeeded in reaching Southern Cross, and near Golden Valley gave the tired animals two weeks' rest. Mr. Lindsay sank wells along the present route from Lake Lefroy to Southern Cross, generally without obtaining water. He marked on the map an auriferous belt for the whole of this region, and its existence has since been well proved. Mr. Lindsay therefore drew public attention to the fact that auriferous country existed in the centre of Western Australia, and months before Bayley discovered the gold at Coolgardie he had advised John Dunn and other prospectors to go into that exact locality. It was also because of his advice and report that Elder, Smith, and Co., of Adelaide, sent F. and T. Mahomet to Western Australia with camels to undertake the carrying trade to the new goldfield

From Southern Cross the party went to the Murchison, and it was there that the dissension among the officers came to a head. For insubordination Mr. Lindsay dismissed the naturalist and the medical officer. Because of this two other officers resigned, and the unfortunate result was the disbandment of the whole party. If this consummation could have been averted the results of the expedition would have been much greater than they were, for it was Mr. Lindsay's intention to leave the settled districts of Western Australia to mark out new paths and collect scientific information. The dissatisfied officers formulated charges against Mr. Lindsay, and he was recalled to Adelaide to explain them. He there presented his case, but the decision was not given until the other officers were asked to report themselves in the sister colony. This request as not immediately obeyed, and Sir Thomas Elder forthwith ordered the total disbandment of the party. When the two dismissed members and the others reached Adelaide and personally preferred their charges, with reasons, the Geographical Society completely exonerated Mr. Lindsay from all blame.

The enterprising explorer now went out on a private expedition, and with fifty camels journeyed through the interior from Port Augusta to Coolgardie. He was twelve weeks completing the trip. Gold had already been found in Coolgardie, and camels were proving their great worth in assisting development. Their total value on the goldfields cannot be estimated, for over the barren, waterless deserts no horse could accomplish the journeys they did in the early history of the goldfields. For transport, especially, they were invaluable. Mr. Lindsay applied his camels to this work, and burdened with the necessaries of life they went from place to place and proved highly remunerative to their owners. While supervising his transport business Mr. Lindsay once more entered the theatre of mining investment and speculation, and from then till the present he has been an active force on the goldfields. He purchased interests in several claims, and became a member of the Coolgardie Stock Exchange. The adventurous explorer settled down to a more private life, and instead of seeking to enrich others in the opening up of new country, very wisely sought to provide for himself.

But his career on the goldfields has been by no means a quiet one. He has travelled thousands of miles inspecting mineral areas. In February, 1895, he went to England and successfully placed for an Adelaide syndicate two mines on the London market. These were the Kalgurli and the North Kalgurli gold mines, which were taken over by companies, each with a capital of £100,000. While he was in the old country the Scottish Westralia Company was formed, and he was appointed its principal operator in Australia. In October, 1895, he returned to the colony and inspected many mining properties on behalf of the company, and three months later went back to England to report progress. His company purchased the Hope's Hill Mine, the Seabrook Freehold Estate at Northam, and the Stanley and Zealandia claims at the Thirty-Three Mile. The Scottish Westralia Company is now (1896) arranging to form a company to supply all the fields with electric motive power. The scheme is an enormous one, and if successful will prove a great boon to the fields by facilitating their development.

In September, 1896, Mr. Lindsay again returned to Western Australia. He is personally interested in several well-known local gold mines. For his splendid services to geographical science he was made a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society of London in 1888, and he is honorary member of both the South Australian and Victorian branches of the Australasian Geographical Society. He is also a member of the South Australian Institute of Licensed Surveyors.

If the detailed accounts of Mr. Lindsay's travels were published and popularised, the narrative would be decidedly romantic and exciting. A man of his restless spirit could not be satisfied with the narrow provincial life, or the quiet ways of the agriculturist. The long march and the dangers and excitement of exploration must be his lot. When the causes which dominate men's actions come to be scientifically laid down, and social science is firmly established, it will probably be found that certain characters demand and obtain certain careers in a higher or lower sphere. The predilection of which Emerson so well writes draws them into definite arenas. This was undoubtedly so in the case of Mr. Lindsay, and had circumstances not led him to an exploring career he would still have been adventurous and enterprising and courageous even as a poor herd lad. That his name is known throughout Australia need not be told, and it must be a pleasing conviction to him to feel that he has conferred favours on his native land, and placed posterity under a debt which, with those of other Australian explorers, will be recognised in its own good time.

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text:
Littell's Living Age/Volume 144/Issue 1857/Epitaph for the Rev. Dr. Buckland

, Ammonites, mourn o'er his funeral urn Whose neck ye must grace no more; Gneiss, Granite, and Slate! he settled your date, And his ye must now deplore.

Weep, Caverns, weep! with infiltering drip, Your recesses he'll cease to explore; For mineral veins and organic remains No Stratum again will he bore.

Oh! his Wit shone like Crystal! his knowledge profound From Gravel to Granite descended; No Trap could deceive him, no Slip could confound, Nor specimen true or pretended. He knew the birth-rock of each pebble so round And how far its tour had extended.

His eloquence roll'd like the Deluge retiring Which Mastodon carcases floated; To a subject obscure he gave charms so inspiring Young and Old on Geology doated. He stood forth like an Outlier; his hearers admiring In pencil each anecdote noted.

Where shall we our great Professor inter, That in peace may rest his bones? If we hew him a rocky sepulchre He'll rise and break the stones, And examine each Stratum that lies around, For he's quite in his element under ground.

If with Mattock and Spade his body we lay In the common alluvial soil, He'll start up and snatch those tools away Of his own Geological toil. In a Stratum so young the Professor disdains That embedded should be his Organic Remains.

Then exposd to the drip of some case-hard'ning spring, His carcase let Stalactite cover, And to Oxford the petrified sage let us bring, When he is incrusted all over; There 'mid Mammoths and Crocodiles, high on a Shelf, Let him stand as a Monument raised to himself.


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Braithwaite, John (1700?-1768?)


text:
Author:John Braithwaite

Works

 * The History of the Revolution in the Empire of Morocco upon the Death of the late Emperor Muley Ishmael (1759)

title: Author:John Braithwaite