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 “a celebrated beauty of those times was in the cross bath, and one of the crowd of her admirers took a glass of the water in which the fair one stood, and drank her health to the company. There was in the place a gay fellow, half fuddled, who offered to jump in, and swore, though he liked not the liquor, he would have the toast. He was opposed in his resolution; yet this whim gave foundation to the present honour which is done to the lady we mention in our liquor, who has ever since been called a toast.” Skeat adds (Etym. Dict., 1908), “whether the story be true or not, it may be seen that a ‘toast,’ i.e. a health, easily took its name from being the usual accompaniment to liquor, especially in loving cups,” &c.

Health drinking had by the beginning of the 17th century become a very ceremonious business in England. At Christmas 1623 the members of the Middle Temple, according to one of the Harleian MSS. quoted in The Life of Sir Simonds D’Ewes, drank to the health of the princess Elizabeth, who, with her husband the king of Bohemia, was then suffering great misfortunes, and stood up, one after the other, cup in one hand, sword in the other, and pledged her, swearing to die in her service. Toasts were often drunk solemnly on bended knees; according to one authority, Samuel Ward of Ipswich, in his Woe to Drunkards (1622), on bare knees. In 1668 at Sir George Carteret’s at Cranbourne the health of the duke of York was drunk by all in turn, each on his knees, the king, who was a guest, doing the like. A Scotch custom, still surviving, was to drink a toast with one foot on the table and one on the chair. Healths, too, were drunk in a definite order. Braithwaite says: “These cups proceed either in order or out of order. In order when no person transgresseth or drinkes out of course, but the cup goes round according to their manner of sitting: and this we call a health-cup, because in our wishing or confirming of any one’s health, bare headed and standing, it is performed by all the company” (Laws of Drinking, 1617). Francis Douce’s MSS. notes say: “It was the custom in Beaumont and Fletcher’s time for the young gallants to stab themselves in the arms or elsewhere, in order to drink the health of their mistresses.” Pepys, in his Diary for the 19th of June 1663, writes: “To the Rhenish wine house, where Mr Moore showed us the French manner when a health is drunk, to bow to him that drunk to you, and then apply yourself to him, whose lady’s health is drunk, and then to the person that you drink to, which I never knew before; but it seems it is now the fashion.” A Frenchman visiting England in Charles II.’s time speaks of the custom of drinking but half your cup, which is then filled up again and presented to him or her to whose health you drank. England’s divided loyalty in the 18th century bequeathed to modern times a custom which possibly yet survives. At dinners to royalties, until the accession of Edward VII., finger-glasses were not placed on the table, because in early Georgian days those who were secretly Jacobites passed their wine-glasses over the finger-bowls before drinking the loyal toasts, in allusion to the royal exiles “over the water,” thus salving their consciences. Lord Cockburn (1779–1854), in his Memorials of his Time (1856), states that in his day the drinking of toasts had become a perfect social tyranny; “every glass during dinner had to be dedicated to some one. It was thought sottish and rude to take wine without this, as if forsooth there was nobody present worth drinking with. I was present about 1803 when the late duke of Buccleuch took a glass of sherry by himself at the table of Charles Hope, then lord advocate, and this was noticed afterwards as a piece of direct contempt.” In Germany to-day it is an insult to refuse to drink with any one; and at one time in the west of America a man took his life in his hands by declining to pledge another. All this is a survival of that very early and universal belief that drinking to one another was a proof of fair play, whether it be in a simple bargain or in matters of life and death. The ceremony surrounding the Loving Cup to-day is reminiscent of the perils of those times when every man’s hand was raised against his fellow. This cup, known at the universities as the Grace Cup, was originated, says Miss Strickland in her Lives of the Queens of Scotland, by Margaret Atheling, wife of Malcolm Canmore, who, in order to induce the Scots to remain at table for grace had a cup of the choicest wine handed round immediately after it had been said. The modern “loving cup” sometimes has a cover, and in this case each guest rises and bows to his immediate neighbour on the right, who, also rising, removes and holds the cover with his right hand while the other drinks; the little comedy is a survival of the days when he who drank was glad to have the assurance that the right or dagger hand of his neighbour was occupied in holding the lid of the chalice. When there is no cover it is a common custom for both the left- and the right-hand neighbour to rise while the loving cup is drunk, with the similar object of protecting the drinker from attack. The Stirrup Cup is probably the Roman poculum boni genii, the last glass drunk at the banquet to a general “good night.”

See Chambers, Book of Days; Valpy, History of Toasting (1881); F. W. Hackwood, Inns, Ales, and Drinking Customs (London, 1909).

 HEALY, GEORGE PETER ALEXANDER (1808–1894), American painter, was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on the 15th of July 1808. Going to Europe in 1835 Healy studied under Baron Gros in Paris and in Rome. He received a third-class medal in Paris in 1840, and one of the second class in 1855, when he exhibited his “Franklin urging the claims of the American Colonies before Louis XVI.” Among his portraits of eminent men are those of Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Guyot, Seward, Louis Philippe, and the presidents of the United States from John Quincy Adams to Grant—this series being painted for the Corcoran Gallery, Washington. His large group, “Webster replying to Hayne,” containing 150 portraits, is in Faneuil Hall, Boston, Mass. He was one of the most prolific and popular painters of his day. He died in Chicago, Illinois, on the 24th of June 1894.

 HEANOR, an urban district in the Ilkeston parliamentary division of Derbyshire, England, 10 m. N.W. of Nottingham, on the Great Northern and Midland railways. Pop. (1901) 16,249. Large hosiery works employ many of the inhabitants, and collieries are worked in the parish. The urban district includes Codnor-cum-Loscoe. Shipley Hall, to the south of Heanor, is a mansion built on a hill, amidst fine gardens. The ruin of the ancient moated castle of Codnor stands, overlooking the vale of the Erewash, on land which was once Codnor Park, and is now the site of large ironworks.

 HEARING (formed from the verb “to hear,” O. Eng. hyran, heran, &c., a common Teutonic verb; cf. Ger. hören, Dutch hooren, &c.; the O. Teut. form is seen in Goth. hausjan; the initial h makes any connexion with “ear,” Lat. audire, or Gr. very doubtful), in physiology, the function of the  (q.v.), and the general term for the sense or special sensation, the cause of which is an excitation of the auditory nerves by the vibrations of sonorous bodies. The anatomy of the ear is described in the separate article on that organ. A description of sonorous vibrations is given in the article ; here we shall consider the transmission of such vibrations from the external ear to the auditory nerve, and the physiological characters of auditory sensation.

1. Transmission in External Ear.—The external ear consists of the pinna, or auricle, and the external auditory meatus, or canal, at the bottom of which we find the membrana tympani, or drum head. In many animals the auricle is trumpet-shaped, and, being freely movable by muscles, serves to collect sonorous waves coming from various directions. The auricle of the human ear presents many irregularities of surface. If these irregularities are abolished by filling them up with a soft material such as wax or oil, leaving the entrance to the canal free, experiment shows that the intensity of sounds is weakened, and that there is more difficulty in judging of their direction. When waves of sound strike the auricle, they are partly reflected outwards, while the remainder, impinging at various angles, undergo a number of reflections so as to be directed into the auditory canal. Vibrations are transmitted along the auditory canal, partly by the air it contains and partly by its walls, to the membrana tympani. The absence of the auricle, as the result of accident or injury, does not cause diminution of hearing.

title: Page:EB1911 - Volume 13.djvu/135


text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Healy, George Peter Alexander

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


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14 said Mr. Micawber to David Copperfield, "you know. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen, nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds, ought and six, result misery. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, the God of day goes down upon the dreary scene, and in short you are for ever floored." Once a month it is advisable that the mistress overlook her store of glass and china, marking any breakages on the inventory of these articles.

When a housekeeper is entrusted with these duties, the mistress should examine her accounts regularly. Then, any increase of expenditure can easily be examined, the mistress will have a regular check upon her expenditure, and the housekeeper who strives to manage her department well and economically will know that her efforts are appreciated.

Engaging Servants is one of the most important duties the mistress is called upon to perform. One of the commonest ways of procuring servants is to answer advertisements or to insert a notice, setting forth what kind of servant is required. In these advertisements it is well to state whether the house is in town or country, and indicate the wages given. There are many respectable registry-offices, where good servants may be hired. A good plan is for the mistress to tell her friends and acquaintances of the vacant place. A lady whose general relations with her domestics are friendly, and fairly permanent, will seldom need to employ any of these methods. Suitable applicants will soon present themselves to fill the vacant places, generally friends of the domestic who is obliged to leave.

We would here point out an error—and a grave one—into which some mistresses fall. They do not, when engaging a servant, tell her all the duties which she will be expected to perform. All the work which the maid will have to do should be plainly set forth by the mistress, and understood by the servant. If this plan is not carefully adhered to, misunderstanding is almost certain to occur, and may not be easily settled.

Servants' Character.—It is hardly safe to be guided by a written one from an unknown quarter; it is better to have an interview, if possible, with the former mistress. In this way you will be helped in your decision as to the fitness of the servant by the appearance of her former place. No mistress desires a needless change of servants. The proper way to obtain a personal interview with a servant's former employer is to tell the applicant for the situation to ask her former mistress to appoint a convenient time when you may call on her; this courtesy being necessary to prevent any unseasonable intrusion on the part of a stranger. Your first questions should be relative to the honesty and general morality of the servant; and if the replies are satisfactory, her other qualifications are then to be ascertained. Inquiries should be very minute, so that you may avoid disappointment and trouble,


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Rh by knowing the weak points of your domestic. Your questions also should be brief, as well as to the point.

In giving a Character, it is scarcely necessary to say that one should be guided by a sense of strict justice. It is not right to recommend a servant one would not keep oneself. The benefit to the servant herself is of small advantage, for the failings which she possesses will increase if indulged with impunity. At the same time, a mistress should never fail to do strict and impartial justice to any merits of her late servant, and should always remember the vital value of good references to one who depends on her labour for a living.

The Treatment of Servants is of the greatest importance to both mistress and domestics. If the latter perceive that their mistress's conduct is regulated by high and correct principles, they will not fail to respect her; and if a real desire is shown to promote their comfort, while at the same time a steady performance of their duty is exacted, then well-principled servants will be anxious to earn approval, and their respect will not be unmingled with affection.

A lady should never allow herself to forget the important duty of watching over the moral and physical welfare of those beneath her roof. Without seeming unduly inquisitive, she can always learn something of their acquaintances and holiday occupation, and should, when necessary, warn them against the dangers and evils of bad company. An hour should be fixed, usually 10 or 9 p.m., after which no servant should be allowed to stay out. To permit breaches of this rule, without having good and explicit reasons furnished, is very far from being a kindness to the servant concerned. The moral responsibility for evil that may result rests largely on the employer who permits late hours. Especial care is needed with young girls. They should be given opportunities for welcoming respectable friends at their employer's house, and not be forced by absence of such provision for their comfort to spend their spare time out of doors, often in driving rain, possibly in bad company.

Wages of Servants.—The following Table of the average yearly wages paid to domestics, will serve to regulate the expenditure of an establishment. The amounts given will, of course, vary according to experience and locality, extent of duties, supply and demand. No Table could possibly be given which would not be subject to alteration under special circumstances, but taken as a general average these payments will be appropriate and form as reliable a guide as could possibly be given. In most establishments such men-servants as coachman, footman, and page, are provided with livery by their employers. This does not affect the question of wages.

Whilst writing on this subject, we would warn the young wife not to let mistaken notions of economy make her lose, for the sake of saving a trifle in wages, the services of a trusted and efficient domestic. The difference in expense between good and bad servants in a house can only be learned by experience. A really good servant can save her


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Page:Gertrude Stein (1909) Three Lives.djvu/35

 bits of jewels.

It was here that Anna came for comfort after her grievous stroke at her friend the widow, Mrs. Lehntman. Not that Anna would tell Mrs. Drehten of this trouble. She could never lay bare the wound that came to her through this idealised affection. Her affair with Mrs. Lehntman was too sacred and too grievous ever to be told. But here in this large household, in busy movement and variety in strife, she could silence the uneasiness and pain of her own wound.

The Drehtens lived out in the country in one of the wooden, ugly houses that lie in groups outside of our large cities.

The father and the sons all had their work here making beer, and the mother and her girls scoured and sewed and cooked.

On Sundays they were all washed very clean, and smelling of kitchen soap. The sons, in their Sunday clothes, loafed around the house or in the village, and on special days went on picnics with their girls. The daughters in their awkward, colored finery went to church most of tje day and then walking with their friends.

They always came together for their supper, where Anna always was most welcome, the jolly Sunday evening supper that german people love. Here Anna and the boys gave it to each other in sharp hits and hearty boisterous laughter, the girls made things for them to eat, and waited on them all, the mother loved all her children all the time, and the father joined in with his occasional unpleasant word that made a bitter feeling but which they had all learned to pass as if it were not said.

It was to the comfort of this house that Anna came at Sunday summer afternoon, after she had left Mrs. Lehntman and her careless ways. The Drehten house was open all about. No one was there but Mrs. Drehten resting in her rocking chair, out in the pleasant, scented, summer air.

Anna had had a hot walk from the cars.


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Morris, Edward Patrick Morris, 1st Baron

MORRIS, EDWARD PATRICK MORRIS, (1859-), Newfoundland statesman, was born at St. John's, Newfoundland, May 8 1859, and was educated at St. Bonaventure's College and the university of Ottawa. In 1884 he was admitted a solicitor and in 1885 was called to the bar (Q.C.1896). The same year he was elected Liberal member for St. John's. In 1889 he entered the Cabinet, and from 1890 to 1895 was Acting Attorney-General for Newfoundland. From 1893 to 1906 he was director of the Newfoundland Savings Bank. In 1897 he went to England as a delegate to the Colonial Office on the question of the French fishing rights. In 1898 he left the Liberal party and became leader first of the Independent Liberals and later (1908) of the People's party. In 1901 he again visited England as a delegate, and in 1902 he entered the Cabinet as Attorney-General, afterwards becoming Minister of Justice. In 1904 he was knighted. In 1909 he became Prime Minister, retaining this office until 1918. In 1909 he represented

at the Imperial Defence Conference, and filled the same position at the Coronation and Imperial Conference in 1911. In 1913 he was made K.C.M.G., and in 1917 was a member of the Imperial War Conference. The same year he received the freedom of the City of London. In 1918 he retired from the premiership and was raised to the peerage. Lord Morris produced an important legal work known as Morris's Reports, an edition of the Newfoundland law reports from 1800 to 1904.


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Morrison, George Ernest

MORRISON, GEORGE ERNEST (1862-1920), British traveller and journalist, Peking correspondent of The Times from 1897 until 1912, when he resigned to become political adviser to Yuan Shih-k'ai, president of the newly proclaimed Chinese republic, was born at Geelong, Victoria, Australia. He displayed early in life a love of adventurous wandering and an insatiable curiosity concerning every phase and aspect of human affairs. Until his service with The Times obliged him to establish his headquarters at Peking, which he came in time to regard as his home, his career was an unbroken series of journeys, in which his love of adventure on unbeaten tracks was usually combined with some practical purpose of exploration. Thus, in 1882, he studied the Kanaka labour question in the South Sea Islands as a sailor before the mast. Later in the same year he crossed Australia on foot, from the Gulf of Carpentaria to Melbourne, covering 2,043 m. in 123 days. His next journey, to New Guinea, nearly cost him his life; he returned from it with two spear-heads in his body, which were eventually removed by Professor Cheyne at Edinburgh, under whom Morrison concluded his medical studies. In 1887 he took his M.D. and C.M. degrees, but the life of a medical practitioner had no attractions for him. After journeys to the United States and the West Indies he worked for a time in his medical capacity, first at the Rio Tinto mines in Spain and then as court physician to the shereef of Wazan in Morocco. From 1890-2 he was in charge of the hospital at Ballarat. In 1893, wearying of routine work, he set out to travel in the Far East; in the following year he made a journey overland from Shanghai to Rangoon, and described it in a work entitled An Australian in China (1895). This journey laid the foundation of his reputation and led to the engagement of his services by The Times. In Nov. 1895 he went as special Times correspondent to Siam, where the French Government's claims in the region of the Mekong valley had necessitated negotiations for an agreement with Great Britain. Here he did excellent work; in Feb. 1897 he accepted the appointment offered him by The Times as resident correspondent at Peking, and for the rest of his life all his work and interests became centred in China. He never attained to any degree of proficiency in the Chinese language, but in the course of numerous journeys during the ensuing 20 years he visited every province and dependency of the Empire, with the exception of Tibet, and acquired an intimate knowledge of men and affairs in every part of the country. In 1907 he travelled from Peking to the borders of Tonquin, and three years later from Central China to Russian Turkestan. During the siege of Peking legations by the Boxers in 1900 he displayed conspicuous gallantry and initiative, and was specially mentioned in despatches by Sir Claude Macdonald. In Jan. 1905 he was present at the triumphal entry of the Japanese army into Port Arthur, and subsequently represented The Times at the Peace Conference which resulted in the Treaty of Portsmouth.

At the outset of the revolutionary movement in China (Oct. 1911) Dr. Morrison frankly proclaimed his sympathy with the Republican programme of Sun Yat-sen and the Cantonese Radicals, and advocated the abdication of the Manchu dynasty. In Aug. 1912, six months after the abdication, he became one of several foreign advisers engaged by the Chinese Government, with special duties as political adviser to President Yuan. When, during the stormy period between 1913 and 1916, it became evident that Yuan Shih-k'ai intended to restore the monarchy in his own person, there were occasions when Dr. Morrison's position was somewhat delicate, because of the prominent part which he had played as an advocate of Republicanism, but his unfailing tact and good humour,

with his unquestionable devotion to the best interests of China, enabled him to fill this difficult position and to retain the goodwill and respect even of those who differed from his political opinions. For nearly 20 years his modernized Chinese house, with its famous library of works on China, was a place of pilgrimage for travellers in the Far East, and “Morrison of Peking” was a name familiar in all parts of the world. He died at Sidmouth May 30 1920.


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16 employers far more than her wages and keep amount to, a bad one would be a poor bargain if she gave her services for nothing.

These are the wages that prevail in or near the Metropolis. The wages of under servants vary considerably according to locality; and they are often much lower in large establishments where young servants receive a good training than in middle-class households.

Number of Servants suited to different incomes.—The following is a rough scale of servants suited to various incomes. It is, however, impossible to give any general rule in these matters. Whether in a household of moderate means such as our scales deal with, a man-servant is required, will depend upon whether the house is situated in town or country, and if the possession of horses or a


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Morton, Levi Parsons

MORTON, LEVI PARSONS (1824-1920), American banker and politician (see ), died at Rhinebeck, N.Y., May 16 1920, his 96th birthday.


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Page:The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy - 1729 - Volume 2.djvu/335

Book III. according to cor. 6. prop. 66. book I. The force of this action is greater in the perigeon Sun, and dilates the Moon's orbit; in the apogeon Sun it is les, and permits the orbit to be again contracted. The Moon moves lower in the dilated, and fater in the contracted orbit; and the annual equation, by which this inequality is regulated, vanihes in the apogee and perigee of the Sun. In the mean ditance of the Sun from the Earth it aries to about 11'. 50". In other ditances of the Sun, it is proportional to the equation of the Sun's centre, and is added to the mean motion of the Moon, while the Earth is paSS undefineding from its aphelion to its perihelion. and ubducted while the Earth is in the oppoite emicircle. Taking for the radiuof the orbis magnus, 1000, and $16 7⁄8$ for the Earth eccentricity, this equation when of the greatet magnitude, by the theory of gravity comes out 11'. 49". But the eccentricity of the Earth eems to omething greater, and with the eccentricity this equation will be augmented in the ame proportion. Suppoe the eccentrity $16 11⁄12$, and the greatet equation will be 11'. 51".

Further. I found that the apogee and nodes of the Moon move fater in the perihelion of the Earth, where the force of the Sun's action is greater, than in the aphelion thereof, and that in the reciprocal triplicate proportion of the Earth's ditance from the Sun. And hence arie annual equations thoe motions proportional to the equation of the Sun's centre. Now the motion of the Sun is in the reciprocal duplicate proportion of the Earth's ditance from the Sun, and the greatet equation of the centre, which this inequality generates, is 1°. 56'. 20". correponding to the abovemention'd eccentricity of the the Sun $16 11⁄12$. But if the motion of the Sun had been in the reciprocal triplicate proportion of the ditance, this inequality would have generated the greatet equation 2°. 54'. 30"


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Mosby, John Singleton

MOSBY, JOHN SINGLETON (1833-1916), American soldier (see ), died in Washington, D.C., May 30 1916.


text:
1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Moseley, Henry Gwyn Jeffreys

MOSELEY, HENRY GWYN JEFFREYS (1887-1915), British physicist, was born Nov. 23 1887. He was educated at Eton, where he entered as a King's scholar, and at Trinity College, Oxford, from which he graduated in 1910 with honours in natural science. His earliest research work was undertaken in Rutherford's laboratory in Manchester, whither he went as lecturer in physics after leaving Oxford. He at once gave evidence of unusual ability both as an original thinker and skilful experimenter. After two years he resigned his lectureship in order to devote more time to research work, and was elected John Harling fellow. The researches with which his name is specially associated were those made shortly before his death. Rutherford had announced the nuclear theory of atomic structure which required each atom to consist of a minute positively charged nucleus about which negative electrons were distributed. It seems also that the charge would increase with the atomic weight of the element. It had been suggested, and Bohr had adopted this view, that the nuclear charge was equal to the atomic number, i.e. to the number of the element in a complete series of the elements arranged in ascending order, but hitherto no atomic property had been discovered which could be definitely represented by this number. Moseley, shortly after the discovery of the diffraction of X-rays by crystals, set to work to examine the X-ray spectrum of a number of elements each of which he made in turn the target of an X-ray tube. He found that his crystal-grating gave a spectrum of two lines for each element and that their frequency increased by definite steps as he passed from one element to the next; indeed, the frequency of vibration associated with each element was a simple function of a number which he found to be identical with the atomic number. It is now generally accepted that this number, experimentally determined by Moseley for a number of elements, defines the physical and chemical properties of the particular element. This number is probably to be identified with the electric charge upon the nucleus of the atom. From the regular progression of the lines in the X-ray spectra of different elements Moseley was able tc indicate the number of elements yet to be discovered, and he cleared up certain anomalies in the periodic tables of the elements. He laid the foundation of what will probably prove to be a new and more precise form of chemistry (see, and ). Moseley was in Australia with the British Association in 1914 when the World War broke out; he returned to England, obtained a commission in the Royal Engineers, and was killed by a Turkish bullet on the Gallipoli peninsula on Aug. 10 1915. (W. G. D.)


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Rh  And thus we come to numbers: I define
 * x=Ω0'x Def. and
 * Ω'Ωνx = Ων+1x Def

According, then, to these symbolic rules we write the series x, Ωx, Ω'Ωx, Ω'Ω'Ω'x

as: Ω0x, Ω0+1x, Ω0+1+1x, Ω0+1+1+1x,

Therefore I write in place of "[x,ξ,Ω'ξ]",
 * "[Ω0x, Ωνx, Ων+1'x]".

And I define:
 * 0 + 1 = 1 Def.
 * 0 + 1 + 1 = 2 Def.
 * 0 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 3 Def.
 * and so on.

A number is the exponent of an operation.

The concept number is nothing else than that which is common to all numbers, the general form of number.

The concept number is the variable number.

And the concept of equality of numbers is the general form of all special equalities of numbers.

The general form of the cardinal number is: [0, ξ, ξ+1].

The theory of classes is altogether superfluous in mathematics.

This is connected with the fact that the generality which we need in mathematics is not the accidental one.

The propositions of logic are tautologies.

The propositions of logic therefore say nothing. (They are the analytical propositions.)

Theories which make a proposition of logic appear substantial are always false. One could e.g. believe that the words "true" and "false" signify two properties among other properties, and then it would appear as a remarkable fact Rh


text: Author:Walter Geoffrey Duffield

title: Author:Walter Geoffrey Duffield


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Page:Wittgenstein - Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 1922.djvu/195

Rh (Note : Numbers in parentheses refer to paragraphs. Thus "6.211 (2)" indicates the second paragraph of section 6.211.) A priori
 * all inference is, 5.133
 * always proves to be something logical, 6.3211
 * criterion of such a thought, 3.04
 * geometry is, 6.35 (1)
 * intuitions, scientific principles as, 6.34
 * no part of experience is, 5.634
 * possibility of a logical form as, 6.33
 * what logic's being, consists in, 5.4731

Accident, none in logic, 2.012

Aesthetics, 6.421 (3)

Affirmation, logical property of, 6.231 (1)

Alphabet, 4.016 (2)

Ambiguity, of "property" and other words, 4.123 (3)

Analysis of propositions, 2.0201, 3.201, 3.25, 4.221 (1)

"Ambulo," a composite proposition, 4.032 (2)

Analytical propositions, 6.11

Application, successive
 * defined, 5.2521 (1)
 * equivalent to "and so on", 5.2523

Argument
 * function cannot be its own, 3.333 (1)
 * places, and generality, 4.0411 (2)

Assertion
 * and deducibility, 5.124 (1)
 * cannot give a sense, 4.064

Assertion sign, meaningless, 4.442 (2)

Atomic facts (Sachverhalt)
 * are combinations of things, 2.01, 2.03
 * are mutually independent, 2.061, 2.062, 4.27 (2)
 * number of combinations of, 4.27 (1)
 * possible infinity of, 4.2211
 * possibility of, 2.012, 2.0124
 * possibility of occurrence of things in, 2.0121 (2)
 * relation to elementary propositions, 4.21, 4.25
 * relation to facts, 2
 * relation to propositions, 4.1
 * structure of, 2.032

Axiom of Infinity, 5.535 (2, 3)

Axiom of Reducibility, 6.1232, 6.1233

Brackets, their importance, 5.461

Calculation
 * not an experiment, 6.2331 (2)
 * of logical properties of symbols, 6.126 (i)

Rh


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1922 Encyclopædia Britannica/Moss, Sir (Horace) Edward

MOSS, SIR (HORACE) EDWARD (1852–1912), British director of variety theatres, was born at Manchester in 1852 and in 1877 opened the Gaiety theatre, Edinburgh, first of the Moss's Empire theatres, which by 1912 numbered twenty houses and represented a capital of over £2,000,000. He was the principal pioneer of the changes which have transformed the old music-hall into the modern variety theatre, and in recognition of this fact, and for his charities, he was knighted in 1905. He died at Middleton, Midlothian, Nov. 25 1912.


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Page:The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy - 1729 - Volume 2.djvu/329

Sect. III fine of the aforeaid inclination to the radius; and $AZ x TZ⁄1⁄2AT$ to 4 AT, as the ine of double the angle ATn to four times the radius) as the ine of the ame inclination multiply'd into the ine of double the ditance of the nodes from the Sun, to four times the quare of the radius.

Colt. 4. Seeing the horary variation of the inclination, when the nodes are in the quadratures, is (by this prop.) to the angle 33". 10 ''' . 35$iv$, as IT x AZ x TG x $Pp⁄PG$ to AT$3$, that is, as $IT x TG⁄1⁄2AT$ x $Pp⁄PG$, to 2AT, that is, as the ine of double the ditance of the Moon from the quadratures multiply'd into $Pp⁄PG$ to twice the radius: the um of all the horary variations during the time that the Moon, in this ituation of the nodes, paes from the quadrature to the yzygy (that is in the pace of $177 1⁄6$ hours) will be to the um of as many angles 33". 10 ''' . 33$iv$, or 5878", as the um of all the ines of double the ditance of the Moon from the quadratures multiply'd into $Pp⁄PG$, to the um of as many diameters; that is, as the diameter multiplied into $Pp⁄PG$ to the circumference; that is, if the inclination be 5°. 1', as 7 x $874⁄10000$ to 22 or as 278 to 10000. And therefore the Whole variation, compos'd out of the um of all the horary variations in the foreaid time, 163". or 2'. 43".


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Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation/Chapter 21

The homeless mill hands flocked to Chazy Junction next day, from whence a freight train distributed them over other parts of the country. The clearing at Royal Falls was now a heap of charred embers, for every one of the cheap, rough-board buildings had been consumed by the fire.

Skeelty had watched the destruction of his plant with feelings of mingled glee and disgust. He was insured against loss, and his rash workmen, who had turned upon him so unexpectedly, had accidentally settled the strike and their own future by starting the fire during their drunken orgies. There being no longer a mill to employ them they went elsewhere for work, rather glad of the change and regretting nothing. As for the manager, he stood to lose temporary profits but was not wholly displeased by the catastrophe. Transportation of his manufactured products had been so irregular and undefendable that even while he watched the blaze he determined to rebuild his plant nearer the main line of a railway, for many such locations could be found where the pine was as plentiful as here.

At dawn he entered the hotel at Millville with his arms full of books and papers which he had succeeded in saving from the fire, and securing a room went directly to bed. It was afternoon when he awoke and after obtaining a meal he strolled out into the village and entered the newspaper office.

"Here's an item for your paper," he said to Patsy, who was busy at her desk. "The mills at Royal will never be rebuilt, and Millville has lost the only chance it ever had of becoming a manufacturing center. The whole settlement, which belonged to Boglin and myself, went up in smoke, and I'm willing to let it go at that. I shall collect the insurance, make myself good, and if anything's left over, that fool Boglin is welcome to it. I admit I made a mistake in ever allowing him to induce me to build at Royal. Boglin owned the land and I used his money, so I gave up to him; but I'm through with the honer'ble ass now. Put it all in the paper; it'll make him feel good. You might add that I'm taking the evening train for New York, shaking the dust of your miserable village from my feet for good and all."

"Thank you, sir," said Patsy, brightly; "the Millville people will appreciate their good luck, I'm sure."

Skeelty hung around the town for awhile, sneering at the new electric light plant and insolently railing at any of the natives who would converse with him. Then he hired Nick Thorne to drive him over to Chazy Junction, and that was the last Millville ever saw of him.

During this day Joe Wegg's men succeeded in repairing all the wires which had been tampered with and in making a proper and permanent connection of the cable to the printing office. That evening the village was again brilliantly lighted and thereafter the big dynamos whirled peacefully and without interruption.

The girls had a busy day, as Uncle John had predicted, for all the exciting incidents of the evening and night before had to be written up and the next day's paper teemed with "news" of a character to interest all its readers. Beth's editorial declared the neighborhood well rid of the paper mill, which had been of little advantage but had caused no end of annoyance because of the rough and mischievous character of the workmen employed. In this statement nearly everyone agreed with her.

Several had been wounded in the riot of the eventful evening, but none seriously injured. The workmen took away their damaged comrades and Lon Taft drove over to Huntingdon and had his head sewed up by the doctor. Other villagers suffered mere bruises, but all who engaged in the fight posed as heroes and even Peggy McNutt, who figured as "not present," told marvelous tales of how he had worsted seven mill hands in a stand-up fight, using only his invincible fists.

The following forenoon the liveryman at the Junction brought to Millville a passenger who had arrived by the morning train—a quiet, boyish-looking man with a shock of brick-red hair and a thin, freckled face. He was driven directly to the Merrick farm, where Uncle John received him cordially, but with surprise, and at once favored the new arrival with a long interview in his private room.

The girls, who had not yet gone to the office, awaited somewhat impatiently the result of this conference, for they already knew the red-headed youth to be the great Fogerty—admitted by even his would-be rivals, the king of New York detectives. Also they knew that Uncle John had employed him some time ago to ferret out the mystery of the identity of Thursday Smith, and the fact of Fogerty's presence indicated he had something to report.

However, when Mr. Merrick came out of the private room his usually cheery countenance wore a troubled expression. Fogerty was invariably placid and inscrutable, so no explanation could be gleaned from his demeanor.

"Ready for town, my dears?" asked Uncle John.

"Yes; the surrey is waiting," answered Louise.

"Then go along, and Fogerty and I will join you at the office presently. I want to confer with the major and Arthur before—before taking any steps to—"

"What's the news, Uncle?" demanded Patsy, impatiently.

"You shall know in good time."

"Who is Thursday Smith?"

"By and by, dear. Don't bother me now. But that reminds me; you are to say nothing to—to—Thursday about Mr. Fogerty's arrival. Treat him—Thursday, you know—just as you have always done, for the present, at least. Whatever we determine on in regard to this man, during our conference, we must not forget that he has acted most gallantly since he came to Millville. We really owe him a debt of gratitude."

With this somewhat incomprehensible statement the girls were forced to content themselves. Feeling quite helpless, they drove to the office and left the men to settle the fate of Thursday Smith.

The "pressman" was now the man-of-all-work about the modest but trim little publishing plant. He attended to whatever job printing came in, made the etchings from Hetty's drawings, cast the stereotypes, made up the forms and operated the press. But aside from this mechanical work Smith took the telegraphic news received by Hetty, edited and condensed it and wrote the black-letter headings over the various items. All this, with a general supervision over the girl compositors, kept the man busy from daybreak to midnight.

In spite of this, the Tribune was essentially a "girls' paper," since Thursday Smith was the only man employed on it—not counting the "dummy" editor, Arthur Weldon, who did nothing but keep the books, and found this not an arduous task. Hetty, at Miss Briggs' desk, attended the telegraph instrument and long-distance telephone, receiving news over both wires, and still found time to draw her daily cartoons and additional humorous sketches which she "worked in" whenever the mood seized her. The typesetting was done by the Dwyer sisters—a colorless pair but quite reliable—while the reportorial and editorial work was divided between Louise, Beth and Patsy, none of whom shirked a single duty. Indeed, they had come to love this work dearly and were enthusiastic over the Tribune, which they fondly believed was being watched with envious admiration by all the journalistic world.

This belief was not wholly due to egotism. Their "exchanges," both city and country, had shown considerable interest in the "Millville Experiment," as they called it, and only a few days before the leading journal of a good-sized city had commented at length on the "girls' newspaper" and, after indulging in some humorous remarks, concluded quite seriously with the statement that "its evident sincerity, clean contents and typographical neatness render the Millville Daily Tribune worthy a better setting than the somnolent country village whose census is too low to be officially recorded."

"But that's all right," said Patsy, smiling at the praise; "we'd never have dared to start a newspaper anywhere else, because a journal that will do for Millville might not make a hit if it bumped against experienced competition."

"We were woefully ignorant when we began, a few weeks ago," commented Beth, glancing with pride at her latest editorial, which she thought had caught the oracular tone of the big city newspapers.

"And we're not expert journalists, even yet," added Louise, with a sigh. "We've improved, to be sure; but I imagine there is still lots of room for improvement."

"One trouble," said Patsy, "is that every inhabitant of Millville wants to see his or her name in print every day, whether he or she has done anything worthy of publication or not. If the name isn't printed, we've made an enemy; and, if it is, the paper is sure to suffer more or less ridicule."

"That is quite true, my dear," responded Louise, the reporter. "I've said everything, about every one of them, that has ever happened, or threatened to happen, since we started the paper, and it is driving me crazy to discover anything more about these stupid natives that will do to print."

Hetty had overheard this conversation and now looked up with a smile.

"Has your 'local happenings' column been prepared for to-morrow, Mrs. Weldon?" she inquired.

"No; I'm about to start out to unearth some items," replied Louise, wearily.

"Let me do it for you. I've an hour or so to spare and I won't need to leave my desk," suggested the artist.

"It is my duty, you know, Hetty, and I've no right to evade it."

"Evade it for to-day. Go home and rest. I'll do your column for to-morrow, and after the vacation you can tackle the thrilling situations with better courage."

"Thank you, Hetty. But I won't go home. I'll wait here to see Fogerty."

"Fogerty!" exclaimed the artist, with a start of surprise. "Do you mean the detective?"

"Yes," said Louise, regretting she had inadvertently mentioned the name.

"But what is there now to detect?" asked Hetty suspiciously. "Our troubles seem ended with the burning of the mill and the flitting of Skeelty and his workmen."

Louise hardly knew how to reply; but Patsy, who trusted the queer girl artist, said quite frankly:

"There remains the mystery of Thursday Smith to fathom, you know."

Hetty flushed and an indignant look swept over her face.

"What right has anyone to solve that mystery?" she asked defiantly. "Isn't that Thursday Smith's own business?"

"Perhaps," returned Patsy, somewhat amused; "but Smith hasn't been able to discover who he is—or was, rather—and seems really anxious to know."

Hetty bent over her desk for a time. Then she looked up and her thin features were white and drawn with anxiety.

"When you discover who Thursday Smith is," said she, "the Millville Tribune will lose its right bower."

"Why?"

"Before his accident, or whatever it was that made him lose his memory, he was an unusual man, a man of exceptional ability. You know that."

"We are all inclined to admit it," answered Patsy. "But what then?"

"Men of ability," declared Hetty slowly, "are of two classes: the very successful, who attain high and honorable positions, or the clever scoundrels who fasten themselves like leeches on humanity and bleed their victims with heartless unconcern. What will you gain if you unmask the past of Thursday Smith? You uncover a rogue or a man of affairs, and in either case you will lose your pressman. Better leave the curtain drawn, Miss Doyle, and accept Thursday Smith as he is."

There was so much good sense in this reasoning that all three girls were impressed and began to regret that Uncle John had called Fogerty to untangle the skein. But it was now too late for such repentance and, after all, they were curious to discover who their remarkable employee really was.

Even while the awkward silence that had fallen upon the group of girls continued, the door opened to admit Uncle John, Fogerty, Major Doyle and Arthur Weldon. Except for the detective they were stern-faced and uncompromising.


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Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation/Chapter 22

Quintus Fogerty was as unlike the typical detective as one could imagine. Small in size, slight and boyish, his years could not readily be determined by the ordinary observer. His face was deeply furrowed and lined, yet a few paces away it seemed the face of a boy of eighteen. His cold gray eyes were persistently staring but conveyed no inkling of his thoughts. His brick-red hair was as unkempt as if it had never known a comb, yet the attire of the great detective was as fastidiously neat as if he had dressed for an important social function. Taken altogether there was something mistrustful and uncanny about Fogerty's looks, and his habit of eternally puffing cigarettes rendered his companionship unpleasant. Yet of the man's professional ability there was no doubt; Mr. Merrick and Arthur Weldon had had occasion to employ him before, with results that justified their faith in him.

The detective greeted the young ladies with polite bows, supplemented by an aimless compliment on the neatness of their office.

"Never would have recognized it as a newspaper sanctum," said he in his thin, piping voice. "No litter, no stale pipes lying about, no cursing and quarreling, no excitement whatever. The editorial room is the index to the workshop; I'll see if the mechanical department is kept as neatly."

He opened the door to the back room, passed through and closed it softly behind him. Mr. Merrick made a dive for the door and followed Fogerty.

"What's the verdict, Arthur?" asked Louise curiously.

"Why, I—I believe the verdict isn't rendered yet," he hastily replied, and followed Mr. Merrick into the pressroom.

"Now, then," cried Patsy, grabbing the major firmly, "you'll not stir a step, sir, until you tell us the news!"

"What news, Patricia?" Inquired the old gentleman blandly.

"Who was Thursday Smith?"

"The identical individual he is now," said the Major.

"Don't prevaricate, sir! Who was he? What did he do? What is his right name?"

"Is it because you are especially interested in this man, my dear, or are ye simply consumed with feminine curiosity?"

"Be good, Daddy! Tell us all about it," said Patsy coaxingly.

"The man Thursday, then, was likely enough the brother of Robinson Crusoe's man Friday."

"Major, you're trifling!"

"Or mayhap an ex-president of the United States, or forby the senator from Oklahoma. Belike he was once minister to Borneo, an' came home in a hurry an' forgot who he was. But John Merrick will be wanting me."

He escaped and opened the door. Then, with his hand on the knob, he turned and added:

"Why don't ye come in, me journalistic investigators, and see the fun for yerselves? I suspect there's an item in store for ye."

Then he went in, and they took the hint and entered the pressroom in a fluttering group. Fogerty stood with his hands in his pockets intently watching the Dwyer girls set type, while at his elbow Mr. Merrick was explaining in a casual voice how many "m's" were required to make a newspaper column. In another part of the long room Arthur Weldon was leaning over a table containing the half-empty forms, as if critically examining them. Smith, arrayed in overalls and jumper, was cleaning and oiling the big press.

"A daily newspaper," said the major, loudly, as he held up a warning finger to the bevy of nieces, behind whom Hetty's pale face appeared, "means a daily grind for all concerned in it. There's no vacation for the paper, no hyphens, no skipping a day or two if it has a bad cold; it's the tyrant that leads its slaves by the nose, metaphorically, and has no conscience. Just as regularly as the world rolls 'round the press rolls out the newspaper, and human life or death makes little difference to either of the revolutionists."

While he spoke the Major led the way across the room to the stereotyping plant, which brought his party to a position near the press. Smith glanced at them and went on with his work. It was not unusual to have the pressroom thus invaded.

Presently Fogerty strolled over, smoking his eternal cigarette, and stood watching the pressman, as if interested in the oiling of the complicated machine. Smith, feeling himself under observation, glanced up again in an unconcerned way, and as he faced the detective Fogerty gave a cleverly assumed start and exclaimed:

"Good God!"

Instantly Thursday Smith straightened up and looked at the man questioningly. Fogerty stretched out his hand and said, as if in wonder:

"Why, Melville, old man, what are you doing here? We wondered what had become of you, all these months. Shake hands, my boy! I'm glad I've found you."

Smith leaned against the press and stared at him with dilated eyes. Everyone in the room was regarding the scene with intense but repressed excitement.

"What's wrong, Harold?" continued Fogerty, as if hurt by the other's hesitation to acknowledge their acquaintance. "You haven't forgotten me, have you? I'm McCormick, you know, and you and I have had many a good time together in the past."

Smith passed his hand across his forehead with a dazed gesture.

"What name did you call me, sir?" he asked.

"Melville; Harold Melville, of East Sixty-sixth street. I'm sure I'm right. There can't be two like you in the world, you know."

Thursday Smith stepped down from the platform and with a staggering gait walked to a stool, on which he weakly sank. He wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead and looked at Fogerty with a half frightened air.

"And you—are—McCormick?" he faltered.

"Of course."

Smith stared a moment and then shook his head.

"It's no use," he said despairingly; "I can't recall a single memory of either Harold Melville or—or his friend McCormick. Pardon me, sir; I must confess my mind is absolutely blank concerning all my life previous to the last two years. Until this moment I—I could not recall my own name."

"H'm," muttered Fogerty; "you recall it now, don't you?"

"No. You tell me my name is Melville, and you seem to recognize me as a man whom you once knew. I accept your statement in good faith, but I cannot corroborate it from my own knowledge."

"That's queer," retorted Fogerty, his cold eyes fixed upon the man's face.

"Let me explain, please," said Smith, and related his curious experience in practically the same words he had employed when confiding it to Mr. Merrick. "I had hoped," he concluded, "that if ever I met one who knew me formerly, or heard my right name mentioned, my memory would come back to me; but in this I am sorely disappointed. Did you know me well, sir?"

"Pretty well," answered the detective, after a slight hesitation.

"Then tell me something about myself. Tell me who I was."

"Here—in public?" asked Fogerty, with a suggestive glance at the spectators, who had involuntarily crowded nearer.

Smith flushed, but gazed firmly into the faces surrounding him.

"Why not?" he returned. "These young ladies and Mr. Merrick accepted me without knowledge of my antecedents. They are entitled to as full an explanation as—as I am."

"You place me, Melville, in a rather embarrassing position," declared Fogerty. "This is a queer case—the queerest in all my experience. Better let me post you in a private interview."

Smith trembled a bit, from nervousness; but he persisted in his demand.

"These people are entitled to the truth," said he. "Tell us frankly all you know about me, and do not mince words—whatever the truth may be."

"Oh, it's not so bad," announced the detective, with a shrug; "or at least it wouldn't be in New York, among your old aristocratic haunts. But here, in a quiet country town, among these generous and simple-hearted folks who have befriended you, the thing is rather difficult to say."

"Say it!" commanded Smith.

"I will. Many New Yorkers remember the firm of Melville & Ford, the cleverest pair of confidence men who ever undertook to fleece the wealthy lambs of the metropolis."

"Confidence men!" gasped Smith, in a voice of horror.

"Yes, putting it mildly. You were both jolly good fellows and made a host of friends. You were well-groomed, rode in automobiles, frequented good clubs and had a stunning establishment on Sixty-sixth street where you entertained lavishly. You could afford to, for there was where you fleeced your victims. But it wasn't so very bad, as I said. You chose the wealthy sons of the super-rich, who were glad to know such popular men-about-town as Harold Melville and Edgar Ford. When one set of innocents had been so thoroughly trimmed that they compared notes and began to avoid you, you had only to pick up another bunch of lambs, for New York contains many distinct flocks of the species. As they could afford to lose, none of them ever complained to the police, although the Central Office had an eye on you and knew your methods perfectly.

"Finally you made a mistake—or rather Ford did, for he was not as clever as you were. He brought an imitation millionaire to your house; a fellow who was putting up a brazen front on the smallest sort of a roll. You won his money and he denounced you, getting away with a pack of marked cards for evidence. At this you both took fright and decided on a hasty retreat. Gathering together your plunder—which was a royal sum, I'm convinced—you and Ford jumped into a motor car and—vanished from New York.

"The balance of your history I base on premise. Ford has been located in Chicago, where, with an ample supply of money, he is repeating his New York operations; but Harold Melville has never been heard of until this day. I think the true explanation is easily arrived at. Goaded by cupidity—and perhaps envy of your superior talents—Ford took advantage of the situation and, finding the automobile speeding along a deserted road, knocked you on the head, tumbled you out of the car, and made off with your combined winnings. The blow had the effect—not so uncommon as you think—of destroying your recollection of your past life, and you have for two years been wandering in total ignorance of what caused your affliction."

During this recital Smith sat with his eyes eagerly fixed upon the speaker's face, dwelling upon every word. At the conclusion of the story he dropped his face in his hands a moment, visibly shuddering. Then again he looked up, and after reading the circle of pitying faces confronting him he bravely met Mr. Merrick's eyes.

"Sir," he said in a voice that faltered in spite of his efforts to render it firm, "you now know who I am. When I first came to you I was a mere irresponsible hobo, a wandering tramp who had adopted the name of Thursday Smith because he was ignorant of his own, but who had no cause to be ashamed of his manhood. To-day I am discovered in my true guise. As Harold Melville, the disreputable trickster, I am not fit to remain in your employ—to associate with honest men and women. You will forgive my imposition, I think, because you know how thoroughly ignorant I was of the truth; but I will impose upon you no longer. I am sorry, sir, for I have been happy here; but I will go, thanking you for the kindly generosity that prompted you to accept me as I seemed to be, not as I am."

He rose, his face showing evidence of suffering, and bowed gravely. Hetty Hewitt walked over and stood by his side, laying her hand gently upon his arm.

But Thursday Smith did not know John Merrick very well. The little gentleman had silently listened, observing meanwhile the demeanor of the accused, and now he smiled in his pleasant, whimsical way and caught Smith's hand in both his own.

"Man, man!" he cried, "you're misjudging both me and yourself, I don't know this fellow Melville. You don't know him, either. But I do know Thursday Smith, who has won my confidence and by his manly acts, and I'll stand by him through thick and thin!"

"I am Harold Melville—the gambler—the confidence man."

"You're nothing of the sort, you're just Thursday Smith, and no more responsible for Harold Melville than I am."

"Hooray!" exclaimed Patsy Doyle enthusiastically. "Uncle's right, Thursday. You're our friend, and the mainstay of the Millville Daily Tribune. We shall not allow you to desert us just because you've discovered that your—your—ancestor—wasn't quite respectable."

"That's it, exactly," asserted Beth. "It's like hearing a tale of an ancestor, Thursday, or of some member of your family who lived before you. You cannot be responsible, in any way, for another man's wickedness."

"As I look at it," said Louise reflectively, "you are just two years old, Thursday, and innocent of any wrongdoing before that day you first found yourself."

"There's no use our considering Melville at all," added Uncle John cheerfully. "I'm sorry we ever heard of him, except that in one way it clears up a mystery. Thursday Smith, we like you and trust you. Do not doubt yourself because of this tale. I'll vouch for your fairness and integrity. Forget Melville, who has never really existed so far as any of us are concerned; be yourself, and count on our friendship and regard, which Thursday Smith has fairly won."

Hetty was crying softly, her cheek laid against Thursday's sleeve. The man stood as if turned to stone, but his cheeks were flushed, his eyes sparkling, and his head proudly poised.

Fogerty lighted a fresh cigarette, watching the scene with an imperturbable smile.

Suddenly Smith awoke to life. He half turned, looked wonderingly at Hetty, and then folded her thin form in his arms and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

Fogerty coughed. Uncle John jerked out his handkerchief and blew his nose like a bugle call. The major's eyes were moist, for the old soldier was sympathetic as a child. But Patsy, a little catch in her voice, impulsively put her arms around the unashamed pair and murmured: "I'm so glad, Hetty! I'm so glad, Thursday! But—dear me—aren't we going to have any paper to-morrow morning?"

That relieved the tension and everybody laughed. Thursday released Hetty and shook Uncle John's hand most gratefully. Then they all wanted to shake hands, and did until it came to Fogerty's turn. But now Smith drew back and looked askance at the detective.

"I do not know you, Mr. McCormick," he said with dignity.

"My name's not McCormick; it's Fogerty," said the other, without malice. "I was simply testing your memory by claiming to be an old friend. Personally I never knew Harold Melville, but I'm mighty glad to make Thursday Smith's acquaintance and will consider it an honor if you'll shake my hand."

Smith was too happy to refuse. He took Fogerty's hand.


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Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation/Chapter 23

Mr. Merrick told Thursday Smith, in an apologetic way, how he had hired Fogerty to unravel the mystery of his former life, and how the great detective had gone to work so intelligently and skillfully that, with the aid of a sketch Hetty had once made of the pressman, and which Mr. Merrick sent on, he had been able to identify the man and unearth the disagreeable details of his history.

Thursday was too humble, by this time, and too grateful, besides, to resent Uncle John's interference. He admitted that, after all, it was better he should know the truth.

"I've nothing to bother me now but the future," he said, "and with God's help I mean to keep the name of Thursday Smith clean and free from any reproach."

After the interview he went about his duties as before and Hetty sat down at her desk and took the telegraphic news that came clicking over the wire as if nothing important in her life had occurred. But the girl journalists were all excitement and already were beginning to plan the things they might do to Make Hetty and Thursday happier. Cox and Booth had gone away and Mr. Merrick thanked Fogerty for his skillful service and gave him a fat check.

"It's a mighty interesting case, sir," declared the detective, "and I'm as glad as any of you that it has ended so comfortably. Whatever Melville might have been—and his record is a little worse than I related it—there's no doubt of Thursday Smith's honesty. He's a mighty fine fellow, and Fate played a proper trick when she blotted out his unscrupulous mind and left him as innocent as an unborn babe. He will do well in his new life, I'm sure, and that girl of his, Hetty Hewitt—I've know of her reckless ways for years—has also redeemed herself and turned out a regular brick! All of which, Mr. Merrick is unusual in real life, more's the pity, and therefore it makes even a cold-blooded detective feel good to witness it."

Mr. Merrick smiled benignantly and Fogerty drove over to the Junction to catch his train.

After luncheon, Patsy, while arranging her galley proofs, inquired of Louise for the local column.

"Hetty said she'd attend to it," was the reply; "but we are all upset to-day and things are at sixes and sevens."

"The column is all prepared, Miss Doyle," announced Hetty.

"Where is it?"

"Thursday has made it ready for the press. It's—illustrated," she confessed. "I'd rather you wouldn't see it until the paper is out, if you can trust me."

"To be sure," said Patsy. "That's one responsibility I'm relieved of, anyhow."

The paper was a bit uneven in appearance next morning, but when Patsy came down to breakfast she found both Uncle John and the major roaring with laughter over Hetty's locals.

The first item stated that "Mrs. Thorne took tea at Sam Cotting's last evening," (the Cottings being notoriously inhospitable) and the picture showed Mrs. Thorne, a sour-faced woman, departing from the store with a package of tea. Then came the announcement that "Eph Hildreth got shot at West's hardware store," and there was a picture of West weighing out a pound of buckshot for his customer. The next item said: "Our distinguished fellow citizen, Marshall Peggy McNutt, was discovered unconscious on his front porch at 3 p.m." The drawing of McNutt was one of the best of the series. It was his habit to "snooze" in an easy chair on his porch every afternoon, and Hetty depicted the little man with both feet—meat and wood—on the rail, his mouth open and eyes shut, while lusty snores were indicated by radiating lines and exclamation points. The Widow Clark's cow occupied the next square, being tethered to a stake while Skim approached the animal with pail and milking-stool. Below the drawing were the words: "Mr. Skimton Clark, cowward." A few other local hits were concluded by a picture of Hon. Ojoy Boglin shaking his fist at Mr. Skeelty, who held a package of money in his grasp labeled "insurance." Below was the simple legend: "O Joy!"

The artist's cleverness became the subject of conversation at the breakfast table, and Arthur remarked:

"You won't be able to hold Hetty in Millville long. Her talent enables her to draw big salaries in New York and it isn't likely she will consent to bury herself in this little town."

"I'm not so sure," said Patsy. "If we can hold Thursday Smith we can hold Hetty, you know."

"We won't need to hold either of them for long," observed Beth; "for in another three weeks or so we must leave here and return to the city, when of course the Millville Daily Tribune must suspend publication."

"I've been thinking of that," said Uncle John.

"So have I," declared Patsy. "For a long time I was puzzled what to do, for I hated dreadfully to kill our dear Tribune after we've made it such a nice paper. Yet I knew very well we couldn't stay here all winter and run it. But last night I had an inspiration. Thursday will marry Hetty, I suppose, and they can both stay here and run the Tribune. They are doing most of the work now. If Uncle John agrees, we will sell out to them on 'easy terms.'"

"Good gracious, Patsy!" chuckled the major, "wherever can the poor things borrow money to keep going? Do you want to load onto an innocent bride an' groom the necessity of meeting a deficit of a couple of hundred dollars every week?"

Patsy's face fell.

"They have no money, I know," she said, "except what they earn."

"And their wages'll be cut off when they begin hiring themselves," added the major. "No; you can't decently thrust such an incubus on Hetty and Thursday—or on anyone else. You've been willing to pay the piper for the sake of the dance, but no one else would do it."

"Quite true," agreed Arthur. "The days of the Millville Tribune are numbered."

"Let us not settle that question just yet," proposed Mr. Merrick, who had been deep in thought. "I'll consider Patsy's proposition for awhile and then talk with Thursday. The paper belongs to the girls, but the outfit is mine, and I suppose I may do what I please with it when my nieces retire from journalism."

Even the major could not demur at this statement and so the conversation dropped. During the next few days Uncle John visited the printing office several times and looked over the complete little plant with speculative eyes. Then one day he made a trip to Malvern, thirty miles up the railway line from the Junction, where a successful weekly paper had long been published. He interviewed the editor, examined the outfit critically, and after asking numerous questions returned to Millville in excellent spirits.

Then he invited Thursday Smith and Hetty to dine at the farm on Saturday evening, which was the one evening in the week they were free, there being no Sunday morning paper. Thursday had bought a new suit of clothes since he came to the Tribune, and Hetty, after much urging, finally prevailed upon him to accept the invitation. When the young man appeared at the farm he wore his new suit with an air of perfect ease that disguised its cheapness, and it was noticed that he seemed quite at home in the handsome living-room, where the party assembled after dinner.

"I am in search of information, Thursday," said Uncle John in his pleasant way. "Will you permit me to question you a bit?"

"Certainly, sir."

"And you, Hetty?"

"Ask anything you like, sir."

"Thank you. To begin with, what are your future plans? I understand, of course, you are to be married; but—afterward?"

"We haven't considered that as yet, sir," replied Thursday thoughtfully. "Of course we shall stay with the Tribune as long as you care to employ our services; but—"

"Well?"

"I have been given to understand the young ladies plan to return to New York at the end of September, and in that case of course the paper will suspend."

"My nieces will be obliged to abandon journalism, to be sure," said Mr. Merrick; "but I see no reason why the paper should suspend. How would you and Hetty like to remain in Millville and run it?"

Both Thursday and Hetty smiled, but it was the man who answered;

"We cannot afford such a luxury, sir."

"Would you care to make your future home in Millville?"

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Hetty. "I love the quaint little town dearly, and the villagers are all my friends. I'm sure Thursday doesn't care to go back to New York, where—where Harold Melville once lived. But, as he truly says, we couldn't make a living with the Tribune, even if you gave us the use of the plant."

"Let us see about that," said Uncle John. "I will admit, in advance, that a daily paper in such a place is absurd. None of us quite understood that when we established the Tribune. My nieces thought a daily the only satisfactory sort of newspaper, because they were used to such, but it did not take long to convince me—and perhaps them—that in spite of all our efforts the Millville Daily Tribune would never thrive. It is too expensive to pay its own way and requires too much work to be a pleasant plaything. Only unbounded enthusiasm and energy have enabled my clever nieces to avoid being swamped by the monster their ambition created."

"That," said Patsy, with a laugh, "is very clearly and concisely put, my dear Uncle."

"It was never intended to be a permanent thing, anyhow," continued Mr. Merrick; "yet I must express my admiration for the courage and talent my nieces have displayed in forcing a temporary success where failure was the logical conclusion. Shortly, however, they intend to retire gracefully from the field of journalism, leaving me with a model country newspaper plant on my hands. Therefore it is I, Thursday and Hetty, and not my nieces, who have a proposition to place before you.

"While a daily paper is not appropriate in Millville, a weekly paper, distributed throughout Chazy County, would not only be desirable but could be made to pay an excellent yearly profit. Through the enterprise of Joe Wegg, Millville is destined to grow rapidly from this time on, and Chazy County is populous enough to support a good weekly paper, in any event. Therefore, my proposition is this: To turn the plant over to Mr. and Mrs. Thursday Smith, who will change the name to the Millville Weekly Tribune and run it as a permanent institution. Your only expense for labor will be one assistant to set type and do odd jobs, since you are so competent that you can attend to all else yourselves. We will cut out the expensive news service we have heretofore indulged in and dispense with the private telegraph wire. Joe Wegg says he'll furnish you with what power you need free of all charge, because the paper will boost Millville's interests, with which his own interests are identified. Now, then, tell me what you think of my proposal."

Hetty and Thursday had listened attentively and their faces proved they were enthusiastic over the idea. They said at once they would be glad to undertake the proposition.

"However," said Thursday, after a little reflection, "there are two things that might render our acceptance impossible. I suppose you will require rent for the outfit; but for a time, until we get well started, we could not afford to pay as much as you have a right to demand."

"I have settled on my demands," replied Mr. Merrick, "and hope you will agree to them. You must pay me for the use of the outfit twenty per cent of your net profits, over and above all your operating and living expenses. When this sum has reimbursed me for my investment, the outfit will belong to you."

Thursday Smith looked his amazement.

"That seems hardly business-like, sir," he protested.

"You are right; but this isn't entirely a business deal. You are saving my nieces the humiliation of suspending the paper they established and have labored on so lovingly. Moreover, I regard you and Hetty as friends whom I am glad to put in the way of a modest but—I venture to predict—a successful business career. What is your second objection?"

"I heard Mr. West say the other day that he would soon need the building we occupy to store his farm machinery in."

"True; but I have anticipated that. I have completed plans for the erection of a new building for the newspaper, which will be located on the vacant lot next to the hotel. I purchased the lot a long time ago. The new building, for which the lumber is already ordered, will be a better one than the shed we are now in, and on the second floor I intend to have a cozy suite of rooms where you and Hetty can make a home of your own. Eh? How does that strike you, my children?"

Their faces were full of wonder and delight.

"The new building goes with the outfit, on the same terms," continued Mr. Merrick. "That is I take one-fifth of your net profits for the whole thing."

"But, sir," suggested Thursday, "suppose no profits materialize?"

"Then I have induced you to undertake a poor venture and must suffer the consequences, which to me will be no hardship at all. In that case I will agree to find some better business for you, but I am quite positive you will make a go of the Millville Weekly Tribune."

"I think so, too, Mr. Merrick, or I would not accept your generous offer," replied Smith.

"What do you think, Hetty?"

"The idea pleases me immensely," she declared. "It is a splendid opportunity for us, and will enable us to live here quietly and forget the big outside world. New York has had a bad influence on both you and me, Thursday, and here we can begin a new life of absolute respectability."

"When do you intend to be married?" asked Patsy.

"We have scarcely thought of that, as yet, for until this evening we did not know what the future held in store for us."

"Couldn't you arrange the wedding before we leave?" asked Beth. "It would delight us so much to be present at the ceremony."

"I think we owe the young ladies that much, Thursday," said Hetty, after a brief hesitation.

"Nothing could please me better," he asserted eagerly.

So they canvassed the wedding, and Patsy proposed they transfer the paper to Thursday and Hetty—to become a weekly instead of a daily—in a week's time, and celebrate the wedding immediately after the second issue, so as to give the bridal couple a brief vacation before getting to work again. Neither of them wished to take a wedding trip, and Mr. Merrick promised to rush the work on the new building so they could move into their new rooms in the course of a few weeks.


text:
Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation/Chapter 24

"We would like to ask your advice about one thing, sir," said Thursday Smith to Mr. Merrick, a little later that same evening. "Would it be legal for me to marry under the name of Thursday Smith, or must I use my real name—Harold Melville?"

Uncle John could not answer this question, nor could the major or Arthur. Hetty and her fiancé had both decided to cling to the name of Thursday Smith thereafter, and they disliked to be married under any other—especially the detestable one of Harold Melville.

"An act of legislature would render your new name legal, I believe," said Mr. Merrick; "but such an act could not be passed until after the date you have planned to be married."

"But if it was made legal afterward it wouldn't matter greatly," suggested the major.

"I do not think it matters at all," asserted Hetty. "It's the man I'm marrying, not his name. I don't much care what he calls himself."

"Oh, but it must be legal, you know!" exclaimed Patsy. "You don't care now, perhaps, but you might in the future. We cannot be certain, you know, that Thursday is entirely free from his former connection with Harold Melville."

"Quite true," agreed the major.

"Then," said Smith, with evident disappointment, "I must use the hateful name of Melville for the wedding, and afterward abandon it for as long as possible."

The nieces were greatly pleased with Uncle John's arrangement, which relieved them of the newspaper and also furnished Thursday and Hetty, of whom they had grown really fond, with a means of gaining a livelihood.

Millville accepted the new arrangement with little adverse comment, the villagers being quite satisfied with a weekly paper, which would cost them far less than the daily had done. Everyone was pleased to know Thursday Smith had acquired the business, for both he and Hetty had won the cordial friendship of the simple-hearted people and were a little nearer to them than "the nabob's girls" could ever be.

Preparations were speedily pushed forward for the wedding, which the nieces undertook to manage themselves, the prospective bride and groom being too busy at the newspaper office to devote much attention to the preliminaries of the great event.

The ceremony was to take place at the farmhouse of Mr. Merrick, and every inhabitant of Millville was invited to be present. The minister would drive over from Hooker's Falls, and the ceremony was to be followed by a grand feast, for which delicacies were to be imported from New York.

The girls provided a complete trousseau for Hetty, as their wedding present, while Arthur and the major undertook to furnish the new apartments, which were already under construction. Uncle John's gift was a substantial check that would furnish the newly married couple with modest capital to promote their business or which they could use in case of emergencies.

It was the very day before the wedding that Fogerty gave them so great and agreeable a surprise that Uncle John called it "Fogerty's Wedding Present" ever afterward. In its physical form it was merely a telegram, but in its spiritual and moral aspect it proved the greatest gift Thursday and Hetty were destined to receive. The telegram was dated from New York and read as follows:

"Harold Melville just arrested here for passing a bogus check under an assumed name. Have interviewed him and find he is really Melville, so Thursday Smith must be some one else, and doubtless a more respectable character. Shall I undertake to discover his real identity?"

Uncle John let Thursday and Hetty answer this question, and their reply was a positive "no!"

"The great Fogerty made such a blunder the first time," said Hetty, who was overjoyed at the glorious news, "that he might give poor Thursday another dreadful scare if he tackled the job again. Let the mystery remain unfathomable."

"But, on the contrary, my dear, Fogerty might discover that Thursday was some eminent and good man—as I am firmly convinced is the truth," suggested Mr. Merrick.

"He's that right now," asserted Hetty. "For my part, I prefer to know nothing of his former history, and Thursday says the present situation thoroughly contents him."

"I am more than contented," said Thursday, with a happy smile. "Hetty has cured me of my desire to wander, and no matter what I might have been in the past I am satisfied to remain hereafter a country editor."


text: Index:From Anne Warren Weston to Boston Female Anti-slavery Society; Monday, August 21, 1837.pdf


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Page:Life in a thousand worlds.djvu/31

 "How many planets, how many suns, how many milky ways are there?" you ask in one breath. Speaking alone of our own universe, of which the Milky Way is the backbone, I estimate that if we multiply the number of stars by forty-nine, we shall have the approximate number of worlds that are large enough to be classed with the family of inhabited planets.

In our immediate universe there are at least one hundred million stars, a number of which have over five hundred worlds revolving around them; others have only six or ten. The average, as above stated, is estimated at forty-nine. Then, also, far out in the depths of space, there are nebulous spots visible only through the most searching lenses. These are new systems of milky ways or new universes, so immensely distant that our most powerful telescopes cannot even resolve them into star

There are inhabited worlds so far from us that, if one could travel the distance around our Earth in one second, he could proceed in one direction, at this rate of speed, for twenty million years and yet see

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 far ahead of him the flickering lights of numberless other inviting suns and worlds.

We cannot possibly grasp an idea of such infinite distances, neither can we form any adequate conception of the long, long stretches between star and star, which is the same as saying, between solar system and solar system. In our Milky Way the stars seem to be crushed together into a whitish jelly, but the awful truth looms up before us with all sublimity that, although these stars seem to lie one upon another, they are millions and trillions of miles apart.

In regard to our own solar system much speculation is rife as to the existence of human creatures on the several larger planets. Theories of all kinds have been advanced; some speculative or absurd, others so plausible as to give rise to interesting questions, such as communicating with Mars, and perhaps of taking a journey to the Moon. These suggestions, while fanciful, awaken our interest and excite our curiosity. Can any one predict the excitement that would prevail in our world if a human creature from some other planet were suddenly to set foot upon

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Page:Life in a thousand worlds.djvu/33

 our soil? We would fling a thousand questions at him to learn something of the strange realm from which he came.

And how great would be our amazement if we were to have the exalted privilege of journeying to other worlds, seeing the types of human creatures living there! and witnessing a thousand other things too strange and wonderful to mention?

I invite you to listen as I tell a condensed story of a number of worlds which I have visited, all within the boundary line of our own universe. I cannot even tell a tithe of what I saw and heard, but must content myself with giving a passing view of a thousand worlds, some of which are situated in a very distant corner of our universe.

Well you may ask: "How could you travel from world to world and see the various forms of human life, and then remain alive to tell a part of the marvelous tale?"

If it is a mystery to you, it is also a mystery to me. I cannot describe the pinions that carried me, nor tell whence came the strength that moved my wings, any more than I can explain by what process I was

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Page:From Anne Warren Weston to Boston Female Anti-slavery Society; Monday, August 21, 1837.pdf/1

 Boston. Aug 21. 1837.

Dear Friends

I am directed by the Board of the Boston Female A.S. Society to address you at this time for the purpose of assuring you that though the love of some of those who have been hither to esteemed as the firm supporters of the A.S. cause, seems to be waking cold, & though some who have put their hands to the plough seem to be looking back and though the hearts of many appear failing them for fear, yet it is not so with us. In times like these, it is highly desirable that all who hold the Abolition faith "undimmed & pure" should declare their ass(?)ie to others, that the efforts of those who seek to divide the cause of truth may be discouraged, & the hopes of those who seek to strengthen it confirmed & established such being our sustive(?), we do now in this moment of addressing you feel it to be our duty solemnly to renew our vows of consecration to the cause of the American Slave, "our countryman in chains" our brother fallen among thieves" & to declare that the inconsistency, the fear & the timidity of others only supplies to us a new & urgent motive for labouring with tenfold zeal & devotedness. It is not the want of zeal Abolitionists to rebuke others for the exhibition of too great warmth & fervour, we therefore trust you will bear with us, if in this epistle, we should seem to utter(?) the language of admonition, too freely or should appear to urge the adoption of our own views too warmly upon the minds of others.

As Abolitionists, we have all, I presume, been subjected in greater or less degrees to misrepresentation, contempt & persecution; by identifying ourselves in a measure with the oppressed & degraded we have been exposed to a portion of the sufferings that have been heaped upon them; but at the present period we are called upon to meet reproach, not as Abolitionists merely, but as women. So corrupting is the influence that a pro slavery spirit exerts both on the intellect & on the heart, that in (?)sentage of the word, in the city of Boston men are not wanting who declare that those women who petition for the abolition of slavery, who form themselves into Societies to produce this result and who on every suitable occasion impress their unfeigned condemnation of the sin of slaveholding and strive by facts & arguments to establish a position(?) con(?)tion in the minds of others one sinning against the dictates of womanly decorum & (?) propriety and rendering themselves obnoxious to the condemnation of the Apostle as expressed in the 13$th$ of the 5$th$ Chapter of Timothy. But this is not wonderful. The Theologians who justify from the Scriptures the enslaving of a certain portion of their fellow men because of their colour are the very people whom we might naturally expect to find perverting(?) the same sacred(?) oracles(?) in a manner almost


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 preserved alive in worlds of fire, in worlds of ice, and in worlds without air. But the sight of all these things was as real to me as the dreams of the night, and it must be admitted that dreams are often as realistic as the acts of our wakeful moments. For many years I looked outward toward the starry firmament, and at times a deep yearning possessed me to speed away to converse with the inhabitants of other spheres. This hope I cherished so strongly that my thoughts completely overpowered me, and ere I knew it I was living at the mercy of indescribable emotions. All this continued during many revolutions of the Earth on its axis. I felt as Columbus must have felt when he was moving over strange waters. Then occurred the most notable event of my life. In the twinkling of an eye I was caught away from the Earth and, without any effort of my own, I was darting through space faster than a sunbeam.

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text: The Statutes at Large (Ruffhead)/Volume 2/Act of Supremacy 1558


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Page:From Anne Warren Weston to Boston Female Anti-slavery Society; Monday, August 21, 1837.pdf/2

 equally unjustifiable, to sanction doctrines of woman's inferiority & subordination. The fanciful illustrations employed by some of these self elected guardians of female manners would be amusing in the extreme were it not for the reflection that in so few men as these doctrines are received just so far is a most unhappy & prejudicial influence exerted both on the mind & heart of the receiver. The man who looks upon woman, merely from the fact of her being such, as a creature dependant & subordinate, is cherishing a belief that in the very nature of things, cannot fail to exert a most baneful effect on his own character. To render his actions & his opinions consistent, believing women to be inferior, he must ever remember to address them as such; indeed in most cases no effort of the memory will be requisite, he will do so naturally & involuntarily. But with regard to this doctrine, a difference of opinion exists among women themselves, & while one class cheerfully acknowledges its own dependence & subordination, yet there is another who while they cheerfully acknowledge & fulfil all the duties of their various domestic relations,(?) are not at all prepared merely in virtue of their being women to declare themselves either subordinate to or dependant. By the first class the society of man will be flattered & soothed by the latter it will be outraged and wounded and thus all his association with the female sex, the association originally designed by God for his moral improvement, must inevitably produce a result directly the reverse. The social intercourse that should exist between men & women as mutual teachers and aides is destroyed; destroyed however not by the fact of a posture of woman kind occupying a false position, but man kind remaining in one. It may be said of women as was said of the West India Slaves "They are fit for emancipation but their Masters are not." The difficulty arises not because women are exercising their rights, but because men are trying to prevent them. To this fact there are many, many noble exceptions. Anti Slavery Women should be the last to forget this. The men who are labouring in the cause of Human Rights are not unaware the vast scope that those words embrace. As a class it will not be found that they are the people who are sorrowing over their aggrieved dignity.

In this connexion it will not be inappropriate to expect our views ?ishing the course ?scued by the Mises Grimké. We feel it to be both a duty & privilege to utter our convictions relative to their heroic & noble career. With personal experience we can testify that their eloquence devotednes & zeal in the cause of the Slave is equalled only by their piety delivery and accurate sense of all that constitutes truly feminine decorum. An attempt has been & is extensively mocking to injure the effect their thrilling appeals must produce on every Christian heart by endeavouring to substantiate the position that, for a woman to address an assembly composed of men & women is improper and indelicate & wrong. We are almost unable to state what arguments are brought forward in support of this opinion, because its friends generally confine themselves to assertion and a wither common placed


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Page:The Mystery of Choice - Chambers.djvu/15

Purple Emperor watched me in silence. I cast again, spinning out six feet more of waterproof silk, and, as the line hissed through the air far across the pool, I saw my three flies fall on the water like drifting thistledown. The Purple Emperor sneered.

"You see," he said, "I am right. There is not a trout in Brittany that will rise to a tailed fly."

"They do in America," I replied.

"Zut! for America!" observed the Purple Emperor.

"And trout take a tailed fly in England," I insisted sharply.

"Now do I care what things or people do in England?" demanded the Purple Emperor.

"You don't care for anything except yourself and your wriggling caterpillars," I said, more annoyed than I had yet been.


text:
Letter to Benjamin Rush - September 23, 1800

Monticello, Sep. 23, 1800.

Dear Sir,--I have to acknolege the receipt of your favor of Aug. 22, and to congratulate you on the healthiness of your city. Still Baltimore, Norfolk & Providence admonish us that we are not clear of our new scourge. When great evils happen, I am in the habit of looking out for what good may arise from them as consolations to us, and Providence has in fact so established the order of things, as that most evils are the means of producing some good. The yellow fever will discourage the growth of great cities in our nation, & I view great cities as pestilential to the morals, the health and the liberties of man. True, they nourish some of the elegant arts, but the useful ones can thrive elsewhere, and less perfection in the others, with more health, virtue & freedom, would be my choice.

I agree with you entirely, in condemning the mania of giving names to objects of any kind after persons still living. Death alone can seal the title of any man to this honor, by putting it out of his power to forfeit it. There is one other mode of recording merit, which I have often thought might be introduced, so as to gratify the living by praising the dead. In giving, for instance, a commission of chief justice to Bushrod Washington, it should be in consideration of his integrity, and science in the laws, and of the services rendered to our country by his illustrious relation, &c. A commission to a descendant of Dr. Franklin, besides being in consideration of the proper qualifications of the person, should add that of the great services rendered by his illustrious ancestor, Bn Fr, by the advancement of science, by inventions useful to man, &c. I am not sure that we ought to change all our names. And during the regal government, sometimes, indeed, they were given through adulation; but often also as the reward of the merit of the times, sometimes for services rendered the colony. Perhaps, too, a name when given, should be deemed a sacred property.

I promised you a letter on Christianity, which I have not forgotten. On the contrary, it is because I have reflected on it, that I find much more time necessary for it than I can at present dispose of. I have a view of the subject which ought to displease neither the rational Christian nor Deists, and would reconcile many to a character they have too hastily rejected. I do not know that it would reconcile the genus irritabile vatum who are all in arms against me. Their hostility is on too interesting ground to be softened. The delusion into which the X. Y. Z. plot shewed it possible to push the people; the successful experiment made under the prevalence of that delusion on the clause of the constitution, which, while it secured the freedom of the press, covered also the freedom of religion, had given to the clergy a very favorite hope of obtaining an establishment of a particular form of Christianity thro' the U. S.; and as every sect believes its own form the true one, every one perhaps hoped for his own, but especially the Episcopalians & Congregationalists. The returning good sense of our country threatens abortion to their hopes, & they believe that any portion of power confided to me, will be exerted in opposition to their schemes. And they believe rightly; for I have sworn upon the altar of god, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man. But this is all they have to fear from me: & enough too in their opinion, & this is the cause of their printing lying pamphlets against me, forging conversations for me with Mazzei, Bishop Madison, &c., which are absolute falsehoods without a circumstance of truth to rest on; falsehoods, too, of which I acquit Mazzei & Bishop Madison, for they are men of truth.

But enough of this: it is more than I have before committed to paper on the subject of all the lies that has been preached and printed against me. I have not seen the work of Sonnoni which you mention, but I have seen another work on Africa, (Parke's,) which I fear will throw cold water on the hopes of the friends of freedom. You will hear an account of an attempt at insurrection in this state. I am looking with anxiety to see what will be it's effect on our state. We are truly to be pitied. I fear we have little chance to see you at the Federal city or in Virginia, and as little at Philadelphia. It would be a great treat to receive you here. But nothing but sickness could effect that; so I do not wish it. For I wish you health and happiness, and think of you with affection. Adieu.


text:
Author:Park Jung-yang

Works

 * 《Park Jungyang's Diary》 (박중양일기;朴重陽日記)
 * 《Sulhoi》 (술회;述懷)

title: Author:Park Jung-yang