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102 glow, brighter meteors ploughed their furrows; groups of thin clouds broke away from the hem of the vapor zone and floated off, dissolving slowly. The whole town of Radusa stood out like a smouldering mountain of ashes. Behind and before, as far as eye could reach, the country lay in an indistinctly lucent mass. A great singing of frogs filled the sonorous solitude.

On the river-road Pallura's wagon blocked the way. It was empty, but still soiled, here and there, with blood. Angry curses broke suddenly from the mob. Giacobbe shouted:

"Let us put the saint in it!"

So the bust was placed in the wagon-bed and drawn by many arms into the ford. The battle-line thus crossed the frontier. Metallic gleams ran along the files. The parted water broke in luminous spray, and the current flamed away red between the poplars, in the distance, towards the quadrangular towers. Mascálico showed itself on a little hill, among olive trees, asleep. The dogs were barking here and there, with a persistent fury of reply. The column, issuing from the ford, left the public road and advanced rapidly straight across country. The silver bust was borne again on men's shoulders, and towered above their heads amid the tall, odorous grain, starred with bright fireflies.

Suddenly a shepherd in his straw hut, where


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Rh he lay to guard the grain, seized with mad panic at sight of so many armed men, started to run up the hill, yelling, "Help! Help!" And his screams echoed in the olive grove.

Then it was that the Radusani charged. Among tree-trunks and dry reeds the silver saint tottered, ringing as he struck low branches, and glittering momentarily at every steep place in the path. Ten, twelve, twenty guns, in a vibrating flash, rattled their shot against the mass of houses. Crashes, then cries, were heard; then a great commotion. Doors were opened; others were slammed shut. Window-panes fell shattered. Vases fell from the church and broke on the street. In the track of the assailants a white smoke rose quietly up through the incandescent air. They all, blinded and in bestial rage, cried, "Kill! kill!"

A group of fanatics remained about San Pantaleone. Atrocious insults for San Gonselvo broke out amid waving scythes and brandished hooks:

"Thief! Thief! Beggar! The candles! The candles!"

Other bands took the houses by assault, breaking down the doors with hatchets. And as they fell, unhinged and shivered, San Pantaleone's followers leaped in, howling, to kill the defenders.

The women, half-naked, took refuge in corners,

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


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104 imploring pity. They warded off the blows, grasping the weapons and cutting their fingers. They rolled at full length on the floor, amid heaps of blankets and sheets.

Giacobbe, long, quick, red as a Turkish scimitar, led the persecution, stopping ever and anon to make sweeping imperious gestures over the heads of the others with a great scythe. Pallid, bare-headed, he held the van, in the name of San Pantaleone. More than thirty men followed him. They all had a dull, confused sense of walking through a conflagration, over quaking ground, and beneath a blazing vault ready to crumble.

But from all sides began to come the defenders, the Mascalicesi, strong and dark as mulattos, sanguinary foes, fighting with long spring-bladed knives, and aiming at the belly and the throat, with guttural cries at every blow.

The mêlée rolled away, step by step, towards the church. From the roofs of two or three houses flames were already bursting. A horde of women and children, wan-eyed and terror-stricken, were fleeing headlong among the olive trees. Then the hand-to-hand struggle between the males, unimpeded by tears and lamentations, became more concentrated and ferocious.

Under the rust-colored sky, the ground was strewn with corpses. Broken imprecations were


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Rh hissed through the teeth of the wounded; and steadily, through all the clamor, still came the cry of the Radusani:

"The candles! The candles!"

But the enormous church door of oak, studded with nails, remained barred. The Mascalicesi defended it against the pushing crowd and the axes. The white, impassive silver saint oscillated in the thick of the fight, still upheld on the shoulders of the four giants, who refused to fall, though bleeding from head to foot. It was the supreme desire of the assailants to place their idol on the enemy's altar.

Now while the Mascalicesi fought like lions, performing prodigies on the stone steps, Giacobbe suddenly disappeared around the corner of the building, seeking an undefended opening through which to enter the sacristy. And beholding a narrow window not far from the ground, he climbed up to it, wedged himself into its embrasure, doubled up his long body, and succeeded in crawling through. The cordial aroma of incense floated in the solitude of God's house. Feeling his way in the dark, guided by the roar of the fight outside, he crept towards the door, stumbling against chairs and bruising his face and hands.

The furious thunder of the Radusan axes was echoing from the tough oak, when he began to force the lock with an iron bar, panting,


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106 by a violent agonizing palpitation which diminished his strength, blind, giddy, stiffened by the pain of his wounds, and dripping with tepid blood.

"San Pantaleone! San Pantaleone!" bellowed the hoarse voices of his comrades outside, redoubling their blows as they felt the door slowly yield. Through the wood came to his ears the heavy thump of falling bodies, the quick thud of knife-thrusts nailing some one through the back. And a grand sentiment, like the divine uplift of the soul of a hero saving his country, flamed up then in that bestial beggar's heart.

a final effort the door was flung open. The Radusani rushed in, with an immense howl of victory, across the bodies of the dead, to carry the silver saint to the altar. A vivid quivering light was reflected suddenly into the obscure nave, making the golden candlesticks shine, and the organ-pipes above. And in that yellow glow, which now came from the burning houses and now disappeared again, a second battle was fought. Bodies grappled together and rolled over the brick floor, never to rise, but to bound hither and thither in the contortions of rage, to strike the benches, and die under them, or on the chapel


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Rh steps, or against the taper-spikes about the confessionals. Under the peaceful vault of God's house the chilling sound of iron penetrating men's flesh or sliding along their bones, the single broken groan of men struck in a vital spot, the crushing of skulls, the roar of victims unwilling to die, the atrocious hilarity of those who had succeeded in killing an enemy,—all this re-echoed distinctly. And a sweet, faint odor of incense floated above the strife.

The silver idol had not, however, reached the altar in triumph, for a hostile circle stood between. Giacobbe fought with his scythe, and, though wounded in several places, did not yield a hand's breadth of the stair which he had been the first to gain. Only two men were left to hold up the saint, whose enormous white head heaved and reeled grotesquely like a drunken mask. The men of Mascálico were growing furious.

Then San Pantaleone fell on the pavement, with a sharp, vibrant ring. As Giacobbe dashed forward to pick him up, a big devil of a man dealt him a blow with a bill-hook, which stretched him out on his back. Twice he rose and twice was struck down again. Blood covered his face, his breast, his hands, yet he persisted in getting up. Enraged by this ferocious tenacity of life, three, four, five clumsy peasants together stabbed him furiously in the belly, and the fanatic fell


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108 over, with the back of his neck against the silver bust. He turned like a flash and put his face against the metal, with his arms outspread and his legs drawn up. And San Pantaleone was lost.


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Declassified per Executive Order 13526, Section 3.3 NND Project Number: NND 63316. By: NWD Date: 2011 TOP SECRET – Sensitive

title: Page:Pentagon-Papers-Part I.djvu/234


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Declassified per Executive Order 13526, Section 3.3 NND Project Number: NND 63316. By: NWD Date: 2011 TOP SECRET – Sensitive  {| |} Rh
 * width="30%"|
 * width="65%"|
 * width="15%"|
 * valign="top"|November 5, 1945:
 * Despatch, Philip D. Sprouse, U.S. Consul, Kunming, to Secretary of State. Incloses 22 October letter of Ho, surveys situation in Vietnam based on reports of Colonel Nordlinger, USA, and reports Ho and Bao Dai attempt to visit Chiang Kai-shek.
 * valign="bottom"|C-76
 * valign="top"|November 8, 1945:
 * U.S. Embassy, Chungking summarizes Ho Chi Minh letter addressed to President Truman and Chiang Kai-shek underscoring French loss of sovereignty, DRV acquisition of same, and aggression by French to regain it. Asserts French bear onus of resuming war of aggression in Far East.
 * valign="bottom"|C-84
 * valign="top"|November 23, 1945:
 * Telegram from U.S. Embassy, Chungking, paraphrases letters from Ho Chi Minh to President Truman and Director General of UNRRA, describing famine in North Vietnam, and appealing for relief.
 * valign="bottom"|C-87
 * valign="top"|November 26, 1945:
 * Despatch from U.S. Embassy, Chungking, inclosing Ho's letter of 1 November; letter of 28 October from Ho to Chiang Kai-shek urging Chiang to stop the British–French–Japanese action in Cochinchina; and an undated telegram to tho Secretary of State protesting that France did not have the right to speak for Vietnam in international councils, and appealing to all free nations of the world to stop conflict in South Vietnam.
 * valign="bottom"|C-89
 * valign="top"|January 18, 1946:
 * Telegram from U.S. Embassy, Chungking, dated 13 February 1946, paraphrasing letter from Ho to President Truman, dated 18 January 1946, reminding that peace is indivisible and requesting President Truman's intervention for immediate resolution of the Vietnam issue. Telegram describes identical letter to General Marshall, same date.
 * valign="bottom"|C-93
 * valign="top"|February 16, 1946:
 * Letter signed by Ho Chi Minh to President of the U.S. cites the principle supported by the U.S. before, during and after the war, and in the UN, to call for U.S. aid to Vietnam in the face of French aggression. Ho asks what has been granted the Philippines — "like the Philippines our goal is full independence and full cooperation with the UNITED STATES."
 * valign="bottom"|C-95
 * Telegram from U.S. Embassy, Chungking, dated 13 February 1946, paraphrasing letter from Ho to President Truman, dated 18 January 1946, reminding that peace is indivisible and requesting President Truman's intervention for immediate resolution of the Vietnam issue. Telegram describes identical letter to General Marshall, same date.
 * valign="bottom"|C-93
 * valign="top"|February 16, 1946:
 * Letter signed by Ho Chi Minh to President of the U.S. cites the principle supported by the U.S. before, during and after the war, and in the UN, to call for U.S. aid to Vietnam in the face of French aggression. Ho asks what has been granted the Philippines — "like the Philippines our goal is full independence and full cooperation with the UNITED STATES."
 * valign="bottom"|C-95
 * valign="bottom"|C-95

title: Page:Pentagon-Papers-Part I.djvu/235


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HE thermometer marks barely one degree above freezing, the sky is covered with ominous white clouds, the air is harsh and piercing; what can induce Signor Odoardo, at nine o'clock on such a morning, to stand in his study window? It is true that Signor Odoardo is a vigorous man, in the prime of life, but it is never wise to tempt Providence by needlessly risking one's health. But stay—I begin to think that I have found a clue to his conduct. Opposite Signor Odoardo's window is the window of the Signora Evelina, and Signora Evelina has the same tastes as Signor Odoardo. She too is taking the air, leaning against the window-sill in her dressing-gown, her fair curls falling upon her forehead and tossed back every now and then by a pretty movement of her head. The street is so narrow that it is easy to talk across from one side to the other, but in such weather as this the only two windows that stand open are those of Signora Evelina and Signor Odoardo.


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112 There is no denying the fact: Signora Evelina, who within the last few weeks has taken up her abode across the way, is a very fascinating little widow. Her hair is of spun gold, her skin of milk and roses, her little turned-up nose, though assuredly not Grecian, is much more attractive than if it were; she has the most dazzling teeth in the most kissable mouth; her eyes are transparent as a cloudless sky, and well, she knows how to use them. Nor is this the sum total of her charms: look at the soft, graceful curves of her agile, well-proportioned figure; look at her little hands and feet! After all, one can hardly wonder that Signor Odoardo runs the risk of catching his death of cold, instead of closing the window and warming himself at the stove which roars so cheerfully within. It is rather at Signora Evelina that I wonder; for, though Signor Odoardo is not an ill-looking man, he is close upon forty, while she is but twenty-four. So young, and already a widow—poor Signora Evelina! It is true that she has great strength of character; but six months have elapsed since her husband's death, and she is resigned to it already, though the deceased left her barely enough to keep body and soul together. Happily Signora Evelina is not encumbered with a family; she is alone and independent, and with those eyes, that hair, that little upturned nose, she ought to have no


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Rh difficulty in finding a second husband. In fact, there is no harm in admitting that Signora Evelina has contemplated the possibility of a second marriage, and that if the would-be bridegroom is not in his first youth—why, she is prepared to make the best of it. In this connection it is perhaps not uninstructive to note that Signor Odoardo is in comfortable circumstances, and is himself a widower. What a coincidence!

Well, then, why don't they marry—that being the customary dénouement in such cases?

Why don't they marry? Well—Signor Odoardo is still undecided. If there had been any hope of a love-affair I fear that his indecision would have vanished long ago. Errare humanum est. But Signora Evelina is a woman of serious views; she is in search of a husband, not of a flirtation. Signora Evelina is a person of great determination; she knows how to turn other people's heads without letting her own be moved a jot. Signora Evelina is deep; deep enough, surely, to gain her point. If Signor Odoardo flutters about her much longer he will singe his wings; things cannot go on in this way. Signor Odoardo's visits are too frequent; and now, in addition, there are the conversations from the window. It is time for a decisive step to be taken, and Signor Odoardo is afraid that he may find himself taking the step before he is


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114 prepared to; this very day, perhaps, when he goes to call on the widow.

The door of Signor Odoardo's study is directly opposite the window in which he is standing, and the opening of this door is therefore made known to him by a violent draught.

As he turns a sweet voice says:

"Good-bye, papa dear; I'm going to school."

"Good-bye, Doretta," he answers, stooping to kiss a pretty little maid of eight or nine; and at the same instant Signora Evelina calls out from over the way:

"Good-morning, Doretta!"

Doretta, who had made a little grimace on discovering her papa in conversation with his pretty neighbor, makes another as she hears herself greeted, and mutters reluctantly, "Good-morning."

Then, with her little basket on her arm, she turns away slowly to join the maid-servant who is waiting for her in the hall.

"I am so fond of that child," sighs Signora Evelina, with the sweetest inflexion in her voice, "but she doesn't like me at all!"

"What an absurd idea! . . . Doretta is a very self-willed child."

Thus Signor Odoardo; but in his heart of hearts he too is convinced that his little daughter has no fondness for Signora Evelina.

Meanwhile, the cold is growing more intense,


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Rh and every now and then a flake of snow spins around upon the wind. Short of wishing to be frozen stiff, there is nothing for it but to shut the window.

"It snows," says Signora Evelina, glancing upward.

"Oh, it was sure to come."

"Well—I must go and look after my household. Au revoir—shall I see you later?"

"I hope to have the pleasure—"

"Au revoir, then."

Signora Evelina closes the window, nods and smiles once more through the pane, and disappears.

Signor Odoardo turns back to his study, and perceiving how cold it has grown, throws some wood on the fire, and, kneeling before the door of the stove, tries to blow the embers into a blaze. The flames leap up with a merry noise, sending bright flashes along the walls of the room.

Outside, the flakes continue to descend at intervals. Perhaps, after all, it is not going to be a snowstorm.

Signor Odoardo paces up and down the room, with bent head and hands thrust in his pockets. He is disturbed, profoundly disturbed. He feels that he has reached a crisis in his life; that in a few days, perhaps in a few hours, his future will be decided. Is he seriously in love with Signora


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116 Evelina? How long has he known her? Will she be sweet and good like the other? Will she know how to be a mother to Doretta?

There is a sound of steps in the hall; Signor Odoardo pauses in the middle of the room. The door re-opens, and Doretta rushes up to her father, her cheeks flushed, her hood falling over her forehead, her warm coat buttoned up to her chin, her hands thrust into her muff.

"It is snowing and the teacher has sent us home."

She tosses off her hood and coat and goes up to the stove.

"There is a good fire, but the room is cold," she exclaims.

As a matter of fact, the window having stood open for half an hour, the thermometer indicates but fifty degrees.

"Papa," Doretta goes on, "I want to stay with you all day long to-day."

"And suppose your poor daddy has affairs of his own to attend to?"

"No, no, you must give them up for to-day."

And Doretta, without waiting for an answer, runs to fetch her books, her doll, and her work. The books are spread out on the desk, the doll is comfortably seated on the sofa, and the work is laid out upon a low stool.

"Ah," she cries, with an air of importance, "what a mercy that there is no school to-day!


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Rh I shall have time to go over my lesson. Oh, look how it snows!"

It snows indeed. First a white powder, fine but thick, and whirled in circles by the wind, beats with a dry metallic sound against the window-panes; then the wind drops, and the flakes, growing larger, descend silently, monotonously, incessantly. The snow covers the streets like a downy carpet, spreads itself like a sheet over the roofs, fills up the cracks in the walls, heaps itself upon the window-sills, envelops the iron window-bars, and hangs in festoons from the gutters and eaves.

Out of doors it must be as cold as ever, but the room is growing rapidly warmer; and Doretta, climbing on a chair, has the satisfaction of announcing that the mercury has risen eleven degrees.

"Yes, dear," her father replies, "and the clock is striking eleven too. Run and tell them to get breakfast ready."

Doretta runs off obediently, but reappears in a moment.

"Daddy, daddy, what do you suppose has happened? The dining-room stove won't draw, and the room is all full of smoke!"

"Then let us breakfast here, child."

This excellent suggestion is joy to the soul of Doretta, who hastens to carry the news to the kitchen, and then, in a series of journeys back


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118 and forth from the dining-room to the study, transports with her own hands the knives, forks, plates, tablecloth, and napkins, and, with the man-servant's aid, lays them out upon one of her papa's tables. How merry she is! How completely the cloud has vanished that darkened her brow a few hours earlier! And how well she acquits herself of her household duties!

Signor Odoardo, watching her with a sense of satisfaction, cannot resist exclaiming: "Bravo, Doretta!"

Doretta is undeniably the very image of her mother. She too was just such an excellent housekeeper, a model of order, of neatness, of propriety. And she was pretty, like Doretta, even though she did not possess the fair hair and captivating eyes of Signora Evelina.

The man-servant who brings in the breakfast is accompanied by a newcomer, the cat Melanio, who is always present at Doretta's meals. The cat Melanio is old; he has known Doretta ever since she was born, and he honors her with his protection. Every morning he mews at her door, as though to inquire if she has slept well; every evening he keeps her company until it is time for her to go to bed. Whenever she goes out he speeds her with a gentle purr; whenever he hears her come in he hurries to meet her and rubs himself against her legs. In the morning, and at the midday meal, when she takes it at


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Rh home, he sits beside her chair and silently waits for the scraps from her plate. The cat Melanio, however, is not in the habit of visiting Signor Odoardo's study, and shows a certain surprise at finding himself there. Signor Odoardo, for his part, receives his new guest with some diffidence; but Doretta, intervening in Melanio's favor, undertakes to answer for his good conduct.

It is long since Doretta has eaten with so much appetite. When she has finished her breakfast, she clears the table as deftly and promptly as she had laid it, and in a few moments Signor Odoardo's study has resumed its wontedwanted [sic] appearance. Only the cat Melanio remains, comfortably established by the stove, on the understanding that he is to be left there as long as he is not troublesome.

The continual coming and going has made the room grow colder. The mercury has dropped perceptibly, and Doretta, to make it rise again, empties nearly the whole wood-basket into the stove.

How it snows, how it snows! No longer in detached flakes, but as though an openwork white cloth were continuously unrolled before one's eyes. Signor Odoardo begins to think that it will be impossible for him to call on Signora Evelina. True, it is only a step, but he would sink into the snow up to his knees. After all, it is only twelve o'clock. It may stop snowing later.


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120 Doretta is struck by a luminous thought:

"What if I were to answer grandmamma's letter?"

In another moment Doretta is seated at her father's desk, in his arm-chair, two cushions raising her to the requisite height, her legs dangling into space, the pen suspended in her hand, and her eyes fixed upon a sheet of ruled paper, containing thus far but two words: Dear Grand-mamma.

Signor Odoardo, leaning against the stove, watches his daughter with a smile.

It appears that at last Doretta has discovered a way of beginning her letter, for she re-plunges the pen into the inkstand, lowers her hand to the sheet of paper, wrinkles her forehead and sticks out her tongue.

After several minutes of assiduous toil she raises her head and asks:

"What shall I say to grandmamma about her invitation to go and spend a few weeks with her?"

"Tell her that you can't go now, but that she may expect you in the spring."

"With you, papa?"

"With me, yes," Signor Odoardo answers mechanically.

Yet if, in the meantime, he engages himself to Signora Evelina, this visit to his mother-in-law will become rather an awkward business.


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 organs or gonads are borne on the mesenteries, the germinal cells being derived from the inner layer or endoderm.

In common with all Coelenterate animals, the walls of the columnar body and also the tentacles and peristome of Actinia are composed of three layers of tissue. The external layer, or ectoderm, is made up of cells, and contains also muscular and nervous elements. The preponderating elements of the ectodermic layer are elongated columnar cells, each containing a nucleus, and bearing cilia at their free extremities. Packed in among these are gland cells, sense cells, and cnidoblasts. The last-named are specially numerous on the tentacles and on some other regions of the body, and produce the well-known “thread cells,” or nematocysts, so characteristic of the Coelentera. The inner layer or endoderm is also a cellular layer, and is chiefly made up of columnar cells, each bearing a cilium at its free extremity and terminating internally in a long muscular fibre. Such cells, made up of epithelial and muscular components, are known as epithelio-muscular or myo-epithelial cells. In Actinians the epithelio-muscular cells of the endoderm are crowded with yellow spherical bodies, which are unicellular plants or Algae, living symbiotically in the tissues of the zooid. The endoderm contains in addition gland cells and nervous elements. The middle layer or mesogloea is not originally a cellular layer, but a gelatinoid structureless substance, secreted by the two cellular layers. In the course of development, however, cells from the ectoderm and endoderm may migrate into it. In Actinia equina the mesogloea consists of fine fibres imbedded in a homogeneous matrix, and between the fibres are minute branched or spindle-shaped cells. For further details of the structure of Actinians, the reader should consult the work of O. and R. Hertwig.

The Anthozoa are divisible into two sub-classes, sharply marked off from one another by definite anatomical characters. These are the and the. To the first-named belong the precious red coral and its allies, the sea-fans or Gorgoniae, to the second belong the white or Madreporarian corals. Alcyonaria.—In this sub-class the zooid (fig. 3) has very constant anatomical characters, differing in some important respects from the Actinian zooid, which has been taken as a type. There is only one ciliated groove, the sulcus, in the stomodaeum. There are always eight tentacles, which are hollow and fringed on their sides, with hollow projections or pinnae; and always eight mesenteries, all of which are complete, i.e. inserted on the stomodaeum. The mesenteries are provided with well-developed longitudinal retractor muscles, supported on longitudinal folds or plaits of the mesogloea, so that in cross-section they have a branched appearance. These muscle-banners, as they are called, have a highly characteristic arrangement; they are all situated on those faces of the mesenteries which look towards the sulcus (fig. 4). Each mesentery has a filament; but two of them, namely, the pair farthest from the sulcus, are longer than the rest, and have a different form of filament. It has been shown that these asulcar filaments are derived from the ectoderm, the remainder from the endoderm. The only exceptions to this structure are found in the arrested or modified zooids, which occur in many of the colonial Alcyonaria. In these the tentacles are stunted or suppressed and the mesenteries are ill-developed, but the sulcus is unusually large and has long cilia. Such modified zooids are called siphonozooids, their function being to drive currents of fluid through the canal-systems of the colonies to which they belong. With very few exceptions a calcareous skeleton is present in all Alcyonaria; it usually consists of spicules of carbonate of lime, each spicule being formed within an ectodermic cell (fig. 3, B). Most commonly the spicule-forming cells pass out of the ectoderm and are imbedded in the mesogloea, where they may remain separate from one another or may be fused together to form a strong mass. In addition to the spicular skeleton an organic horny skeleton is frequently present, either in the form of a horny external investment (Cornularia), or an internal axis (Gorgonia), or it may form a matrix in which spicules are imbedded (Keroeides, Meistodes).

Nearly all the Alcyonaria are colonial. Four solitary species have been described, viz. Haimea funebris and H. hyalina, Hartea elegans, and Monoxenia Darwinii; but it is doubtful whether these are not the young forms of colonies. For the present the solitary forms may be placed in a grade, Protal-cyonacea, and the colonial forms may be grouped in another grade, Synalcyonacea. Every Alcyonarian colony is developed by budding from a single parent zooid. The buds are not direct outgrowths of the body-wall, but are formed on the courses of hollow outgrowths of the base or body-wall, called solenia. These form a more or less complicated canal system, lined by endoderm, and communicating with the cavities of the zooids. The most simple form of budding is found in the genus Cornularia, in which the mother zooid gives off from its base one or more simple radiciform outgrowths. Each outgrowth contains a single tube or solenium, and at a longer or shorter distance from the mother zooid a daughter zooid is formed as a bud. This gives off new outgrowths, and these, branching and anastomosing with one another, may form a network, adhering to stones, corals, or other objects, from which

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Rh Lets waxed thread, hammer, and pincers rest, And lays his awl within his chest; The seventh day he takes repose From many pulls and many blows.

Soon as the spring-sun meets his view, Repose begets him labour anew; He feels that he holds within his brain A little world that broods there amain, And that begins to act and to live, Which he unto others would gladly give.

He had a skilful eye and true, And was full kind and loving, too. For contemplation, clear and pure,— For making all his own again, sure; He had a tongue that charmed when 'twas heard, And graceful and light flowed every word; Which made the Muses in him rejoice, The Master-singer of their choice.

And now a maiden entered there, With swelling breast, and body fair; With footing firm she took her place, And moved with stately, noble grace;

She did not walk in wanton mood, Nor look around with glances lewd. She held a measure in her hand, Her girdle was a golden band, A wreath of corn was on her head, Her eye the day's bright lustre shed; Her name is honest Industry, Else, Justice, Magnanimity.

She entered with a kindly greeting; He felt no wonder at the meeting,


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258 For, kind and fair as she might be, He long had known her, fancied he.

"I have selected thee," she said, "From all who earth's wild mazes tread, That thou shouldst have clear-sighted sense, And nought that's wrong should e'er commence. When others run in strange confusion, Thy gaze shall see through each illusion; When others dolefully complain, Thy cause with jesting thou shalt gain, Honour and right shall value duly, In everything act simply, truly,— Virtue and godliness proclaim, And call all evil by its name, Nought soften down, attempt no quibble, Nought polish up, nought vainly scribble. The world shall stand before thee, then, As seen by Albert Durer's ken, In manliness and changeless life, In inward strength and firmness rife. Fair Nature's Genius by the hand Shall lead thee on through every land, Teach thee each different life to scan, Show thee the wondrous ways of man, His shifts, confusions, thrustings, drubbings, Pushings, tearings, pressings, and rubbings; The varying madness of the crew, The ant-hill's ravings bring to view; But thou shalt see all this expressed, As though 'twere in a magic chest. Write these things down for folks on earth, In hopes they may to wit give birth."— Then she a window opened wide, And showed a motley crowd outside, All kinds of beings 'neath the sky, As in his writings one may spy.


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Rh 1 Martagon rubrum iue luteum. The red or the yellow Martagon. 2 Lilium Bulbiferum. The red bulbed Lilly. 3 Lilium aureum. The gold red Lilly. 4 Lilium album. The white Lilly.


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Rh Our master dear was after this, On nature thinking, full of bliss, When toward him, from the other side He saw an aged woman glide; The name she bears, Historia, Mythologia, Fabula; With footstep tottering and unstable She dragged a large and wooden carved table. Where, with wide sleeves and human mien, The Lord was catechising seen; Adam, Eve, Eden, the Serpent's seduction, Gomorrah and Sodom's awful destruction, The twelve illustrious women, too, That mirror of honour brought to view; All kinds of bloodthirstiness, murder, and sin, The twelve wicked tyrants also were in, And all kinds of goodly doctrine and law; Saint Peter with his scourge you saw, With the world's ways dissatisfied, And by our Lord with power supplied. Her train and dress, behind and before. And e'en the seams, were painted o'er With tales of worldly virtue and crime,— Our master viewed all this for a time; The sight right gladly he surveyed, So useful for him in his trade, Whence he was able to procure Example good and precept sure, Recounting all with truthful care, As though he had been present there. His spirit seemed from earth to fly, He ne'er had turned away his eye, Did he not just behind him hear A rattle of bells approaching near.

And now a fool doth catch his eye. With goat and ape's leap drawing nigh,


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260 A merry interlude preparing With fooleries and jests unsparing. Behind him, in a line drawn out, He dragged all fools, the lean and stout, The great and little, the empty and full, All too witty, and all too dull, A lash he flourished overhead, As though a dance of apes he led, Abusing them with bitterness, As though his wrath would ne'er grow less.

While on this sight our master gazed, His head was growing well-nigh crazed: What words for all could he e'er find, Could such a medley be combined? Could he continue with delight For evermore to sing and write? When lo! from out a cloud's dark bed In at the upper window sped The Muse, in all her majesty, As fair as our loved maids we see. With clearness she around him threw Her truth, that ever stronger grew.

"I, to ordain thee come," she spake: "So prosper, and my blessing take! The holy fire that slumbering lies Within thee, in bright flames shall rise; Yet that thine ever-restless life May still with kindly strength be rife, I, for thine inward spirit's calm, Have granted nourishment and balm, That rapture may thy soul imbue, Like some fair blossom bathed in dew."—

Behind his house then secretly Outside the doorway pointed she,


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Rh Where in a shady garden-nook A beauteous maid with downcast look Was sitting where a stream was flowing, With elder bushes near it growing; She sat beneath an apple-tree, And nought around her seemed to see. Her lap was full of roses fair, Which in a wreath she twined with care, And with them leaves and blossoms blended: For whom was that sweet wreath intended? Thus sat she, modest and retired, Her bosom throbbed, with hope inspired; Such deep forebodings filled her mind, No room for wishing could she find, And with the thoughts that o'er it flew, Perchance a sigh was mingled, too.

"But why should sorrow cloud thy brow? That, dearest love, which fills thee now Is fraught with joy and ecstasy, Prepared in one alone for thee, That he within thine eye may find Solace when fortune proves unkind, And be new-born through many a kiss, That he receives with inward bliss; Whene'er he clasps thee to his breast, May he from all his toils find rest. When he in thy dear arms shall sink, May he new life and vigour drink: Fresh joys of youth shalt thou obtain, In merry jest rejoice again. With raillery and roguish spite, Thou now shalt tease him, now delight. Thus Love will never more grow old. Thus will the minstrel ne'er be cold."

While he thus lives, in secret blessed, Above him in the clouds doth rest


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38 his o continuing undry yeares, vpon tranplanting, will redire ad ingenium, that is, quickly come againe to his old byas or forme.

The econd red Lilly without bulbes groweth much higher then the firt, and almot as high as any other Lilly: the roote hereof is white and caly, the leaues are omewhat longer, and of a darke or ad greene colour; the flowers are many and large, tanding vpright as all thee orts of red Lillies doe, of a paler red colour tending to an Orenge on the inide, with many blacke pots and lines on them, as in the former, and more yellow on the outide: the eede veels are like vnto the roundih heads of other Lillies, and o are the eedes in them likewie.

The firt of the Lillies that carrieth bulbes on the talke, hath a white caly roote like the former; from whence rieth vp a mall round talke, not much higher then the firt dwarfe Lilly, eeming to be edged, hauing many leaues thereon of a ad green colour et about it, cloe thrut together: the greene heads for flowers, will haue a kind of woollinee on them, before the flowers begin to open, and betweene thee heads of flowers, as alo vnder them, and among the vppermot leaues, appeare mall bulbes or heads, which being ripe if they be put into the ground, or if they fall of themelues, will hoote forth leaues, and beare flowers within two or three yeares like the mother plant, and o will the bulbes of the other hereafter decribed: the flowers of this Lilly are of a faire gold yellow colour, hadowed ouer with a hew of purple, but not o red as the firt, or the next to bee decribed. This Lilly will hoote trings vnder ground, like as the lat red Lilly will doe alo, whereat will grow white bulbed roots, like the rootes of the mother plant, thereby quickly encreaing it elfe.

The econd bulbed Lilly rieth vp with his talke as high as any of thee Lillies, carrying many long and narrow darke greene leaues about it, and at the toppe many faire red flowers, as large or larger then any of the former, and of a deeper red colour, with pots on them likewie, hauing greater bulbes growing about the toppe of the talke and among the flowers, then any ele.

The difference of this doth chiefly conit in the flower, which is compoed of manie leaues, as if many flowers went to make one, potted with black pots, and without any bulbes when it thus beareth, which is but accidentall, as the former double Lilly is aid to be.

The third red Lilly with bulbes, rieth vp almot as high as the lat, and is the mot common kinde we haue bearing bulbes. It hath many leaues about the talke, but not of o ad a greene colour as the former: the flowers are of as pale a reddih yellow colour as any of the former, and comming neeret vnto the colour of the Gold red Lilly. This is more plentifull in bulbes, and in hooting trings, to encreae rootes vnder ground, then the others.

Thee Lillies doe all grow in Gardens, but their naturall places of growing is the Mountaines and the Vallies neere them in Italy, as Matthiolus Rh


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262 An oak-wreath, verdant and sublime, Placed on his brow in after-time; While they are banished to the slough, Who their great master disavow.

 THE FRIENDLY MEETING.

 IN A WORD.

Thus to be chained for ever, can I bear? A very torment that, in truth, would be. This very day my new resolve shall see,— I'll not go near the lately worshipped Fair.


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Rh aith: and in many Countries of Germany, as Hungarie, Autria, Stiria, and Bohemia, as Cluius and other doe report.

They flower for the mot part in Iune, yet the firt of thee is the earliet of all the ret. All thee Lillies are called Lilia Rubra, Red Lillies: Some call them Lilium Aureum, Lilium Purpureum, Lilium Puniceum, & Lilium Cruentum. Some alo call them Martagon Chimitarum. Cluius calleth thee bulbed Lillies Martagon Bulbiferum. It is thought to be Hyacinthus Poetarum, but I referre the dicuing thereof to a fitter time. Wee haue, to ditinguih them mot fitly (as I take it) giuen their proper names in their euerall titles.

Ow remaineth onely the White Lilly, of all the whole family or tocke of the Lillies, to bee poken of, which is of two orts. The one is our common or vulgar White Lilly; and the other, that which was brought from Contantinople.

The ordinary White Lilly carce needeth any decription, it is o well knowne, and o frequent in euery Garden; but to ay omewhat thereof, as I ve to doe of euery thing, be it neuer o common and knowne; it hath a cloued or caly roote, yellower and bigger then any of the red Lillies: the talke is of a blackih greene colour, and rieth as high as mot of the Lillies, hauing many faire, broad, and long greene leaues thereon, larger and longer beneath, and maller vpon the talke vpwards; the flowers are many or few, according to the age of the plant, fertility of the oile, and time of tanding where it groweth: and tand vpon long greene foottalkes, of a faire white colour, with a long pointell in the middle, and white chiues tipt with yellow pendents about it; the mell is omewhat heady and trong.

The other White Lilly, differeth but little from the former White Lilly, either in roote, leafe, or flower, but only that this vually groweth with more number of flowers, then euer we aw in our ordinary White Lilly: for I haue eene the talke of this Lilly turne flat, of the breadth of an hand, bearing neere two hundred flowers vpon a head, yet mot commonly it beareth not aboue a dozen, or twenty flowers, but maller then the ordinary, as the greene leaues are likewie.

The firt groweth onely in Gardens, and hath not beene declared where it is found wilde, by any that I can heare of. The other hath beene ent from Constantinople, among other rootes, and therefore is likely to grow in ome parts neere thereunto.

They flower in Iune or thereabouts, but hoote forth greene leaues in Rh


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Explanation of an Ancient Woodcut, Representing Hans Sachs's Poetical Mission


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Friendly Meeting


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36 Now the valley I perceive, Where together we will go, And the streamlet watch each eve, Gliding peacefully below. Oh, the poplars on yon spot! Oh, the beech-trees in yon grove! And behind we'll build a cot. Where to taste the joys of love!

 FIRST LOSS.

 APPARENT DEATH.

 AFTER-SENSATIONS. When the vine again is blowing, Then the wine moves in the cask; When the rose again is glowing, Wherefore should I feel oppressed?


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/First Loss


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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Apparent Death

Scheintod


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8 THE COQUETTE.

 THE WILD ROSE.

espied, in morning light, A little rosebud blowing; 'Twas so delicate and bright, That he came to feast his sight, And wonder at its growing Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Rosebud brightly blowing!

"I will gather thee,"—he cried,— "Rosebud brightly glowing!" "Then I'll sting thee," it replied,


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Coquette


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Declassified per Executive Order 13526, Section 3.3 NND Project Number: NND 63316. By: NWD Date: 2011 TOP SECRET – Sensitive  {|
 * width="30%"|
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 * valign="top"|February 18, 1946:
 * Note from the DRV to Governments of China, USA, USSR, and Great Britain, calls attention to Vichy–French collaboration with Japan in Indochina, and to policies which led to famine among the Vietnamese. Again on March 9, 1945, the French acceded to the Japanese seizure of power. By contrast, the Vietnamese resistance had fought the Japanese all through the years, and in August, 1945, ousted Nippon's regime, and founded the DRV. The DRV is based on principles enunciated by Sun Yat Sen and President Truman. Impressive progress has been achieved by the DRV in North Vietnam, but in South Vietnam, French aggression has obtruded. DRV urgently appeals for interference by allies to halt the conflict, and the placing of the Indochina issue before the UN.
 * valign="bottom"|C-98
 * valign="top"|February 27, 1946:
 * Telegram from Assistant Chief of the Division of Southeast Asian Affairs, U.S. Department of State (Landon), to the Secretary of State, from Hanoi, received in Washington February 27. Summarizes state of negotiations between French (Sainteny) and DRV. Reports that Ho Chi Minh handed Landon two letters addressed to President of the U.S., asserting that Vietnamese will fight until UN intervenes in Vietnam. Requests U.S. support Vietnamese independence "according to Philippines example."
 * valign="bottom"|C-101
 * valign="top"|September 11, 1946:
 * Memorandum of conversation with Ho Chi Minh by the First Secretary, U.S. Embassy, Paris, dated September 12, 1946. Ho describes his O.S.S. contacts, denies having communist connections and indicates that he hoped to obtain aid from the United States. He refers specifically to economic aid, but hints at military and naval assistance, ., mentions the naval base at Cam Ranh Bay.
 * valign="bottom"|C-102
 * } Rh
 * Memorandum of conversation with Ho Chi Minh by the First Secretary, U.S. Embassy, Paris, dated September 12, 1946. Ho describes his O.S.S. contacts, denies having communist connections and indicates that he hoped to obtain aid from the United States. He refers specifically to economic aid, but hints at military and naval assistance, ., mentions the naval base at Cam Ranh Bay.
 * valign="bottom"|C-102
 * } Rh

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Declassified per Executive Order 13526, Section 3.3 NND Project Number: NND 63316. By: NWD Date: 2011

MEMORANDUM FOR THE SECRETARY OF STATE:

The OSS representative in Kunming has transmitted the following information concerning the French attitude toward the Indo-Chinese Provisional Government. The provisional government was the subject of our two memoranda of 21 August.

The French Government has decided to adopt a passive diplomatic attitude toward the reoccupation of Indo-China because of their inability to make an entry with a powerful show of arms. A committee of three has been appointed by the French Government in Paris, composed of the chief of the Kunming DGER [French Intelligence Service], the Minister of Colonies, and the Administrator General of Colonies. Its mission is to contact Annamite leaders and negotiate with them on terms favorable to the Indochinese, according to Major Sainteny, who will represent the committee in Hanoi. The French policy will be one of liberal administration in the capacity of advisors to the Indo-Chinese Provisional Government, to be established by the Kuomintang Annamite and the Vietminh, which together form a committee of national liberation. (The Vietminh is a 100% Communist party, with a membership of approximately 20% of the active political native element. The Kuomintang Party comprises six minority parties and a score of independent ones.) The French Committee has been charged with the task of negotiating directly with Indo-Chinese leaders and deciding on the best modus operandi. It has full powers of signing treaties in the name of France. The committee will in turn report to Paris, which retains the prerogative of making minor amendments to the general agreement. Annamite leaders in Kunming and representatives of the Central Liberation Committee recently from Hanoi, have expressed a desire to bring Imgin [Annam?] in Indo-China under the status of an American protectorate, and are hoping that the US will intercede with the United Nations for the exclusion of the French, as well as Chinese, from the reoccupation of Indo-China.

title: Page:Pentagon-Papers-Part I.djvu/237


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Rh "And you'll quickly start aside With the prickle glowing." Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Rosebud brightly blowing!

But he plucked it from the plain, The rosebud brightly blowing! It turned and stung him, but in vain He regarded not the pain, Homeward with it going, Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Rosebud brightly blowing!

 THE BREEZE.

 BLINDMAN'S BUFF.

, my Theresa dear! Thine eyes I greatly fear Can through the bandage see! Although thine eyes are bound, By thee I'm quickly found, And wherefore shouldst thou catch but me.


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 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS,

BY AN OLD BOY.

CHAPTER I.

I'm the Poet of White Horse Vale, Sir, With liberal notions under my cap."

Browns have become illustrious by the pen of Thackeray and the pencil of Doyle, within the memory of the young gentlemen who are now matriculating at the Universities. Notwithstanding the well-merited but late fame which has now fallen upon them, any one at all acquainted with the family must feel, that much has yet to be written and said before the British nation will be properly sensible of how much of its greatness it owes to the Browns. For centuries, in their quiet, dogged, homespun way, they have been subduing the earth in most English counties, and leaving their mark in American forests and Australian uplands. Wherever the fleets and armies of England have won renown, there stalwart sons of the Browns have done yoemenyeoman [sic]'s work. With the yew bow and cloth-yard shaft at Cressy and Agincourt—with the brown bill and pike under the brave Lord Willoughby—with culverin

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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Wild Rose

Heidenröslein Ruusu metsätiellä Ruusu kankaalla Դաշտի վարդը Վարդը


text:
Wild Rose

 * The Wild Rose by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 * The Wild Rose by Johann Strauss II

title: Wild Rose


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Breeze


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 and demi-culverin against Spaniards and Dutchmen—with hand-grenade and sabre, and musket and bayonet, under Rodney and St. Vincent, Wolfe and Moore, Nelson and Wellington, they have carried their lives in their hands; getting hard knocks and hard work in plenty, which was on the whole what they looked for, and the best thing for them; and little praise or pudding, which indeed they, and most of us, are better without. Talbots and Stanleys, St. Maurs, and such-like folk, have led armies and made laws time out of mind; but those noble families would be somewhat astounded—if the accounts ever came to be fairly taken—to find how small their work for England has been by the side of that of the Browns. These latter, indeed, have until the present generation rarely been sung by poet, or chronicled by sage. They have wanted their "Sacer vates," having been too solid to rise to the top by themselves, and not having been largely gifted with the talent of catching hold of, and holding on tight to, whatever good things happened to be going,—the foundation of the fortunes of so many noble families. But the world goes on its way, and the wheel turns, and the wrongs of the Browns, like other wrongs, seem in a fair way to get righted. And this present writer having for many years of his life been a devout Brown-worshipper, and moreover having the honour of being nearly connected with an eminently respectable branch of the great Brown family, is anxious, so far as in him lies, to help the wheel over, and throw his stone on to the pile.

However, gentle reader, or simple reader, whichever you may be, lest you should be led to waste your precious time upon these pages, I make so bold

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10 Ere long thou held'st me fast, With arms around me cast, Upon thy breast I fell; Scarce was thy bandage gone, When all my joy was flown, Thou coldly didst the blind repel.

He groped on every side, His limbs he sorely tried, While scoffs arose all round; If thou no love wilt give, In sadness I shall live, As if mine eyes remained still bound.

 CHRISTEL.

My senses ofttimes are oppressed, Oft stagnant is my blood; But when by Christel's sight I'm blest I feel my strength renewed. I see her here, I see her there, And really cannot tell The manner how, the when, the where, The why I love her well.

If with the merest glance I view Her black and roguish eyes, And gaze on her black eyebrows too, My spirit upward flies. Has any one a mouth so sweet, Such love-round cheeks as she? Ah, when the eye her beauties meet, It ne'er content can be.

And when in airy German dance I clasp her form divine,


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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Blindman's Buff

 Blinde Kuh


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Rh All that is needed for calm happiness Hast thou not here! Hast thou not pleasure in the golden bough That shields thee from the day's fierce glow? Canst thou not raise thy breast to catch, On the soft moss beside the brook, The sun's last rays at even? Here thou mayest wander through the flowers' fresh dew. Pluck from the overflow The forest-trees provide, The choicest food,—mayest quench Thy light thirst at the silvery spring. O friend, true happiness Lies in contentedness, And that contentedness Finds everywhere enough." "O wise one!" said the eagle, while he sank In deep and ever deepening thought— "O Wisdom! like a dove thou speakest!"

 GANYMEDE.

How, in the light of morning, Round me thou glowest, Spring, thou beloved one! With thousand-varying loving bliss The sacred emotions Born of thy warmth eternal Press 'gainst my bosom, Thou endlessly fair one! Could I but hold thee clasped Within mine arms!

Ah ! upon thy bosom Lay I, pining.


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Author talk:Joel Tyler Headley

Joel Tyler Headley

title: Author talk:Joel Tyler Headley


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210 And then thy flowers, thy grass, Were pressing against my heart. Thou coolest the burning Thirst of my bosom, Beauteous morning breeze! The nightingale then calls me Sweetly from out of the misty vale. I come, I come! Whither? Ah, whither?

Up, up, lies my course. While downward the clouds Are hovering, the clouds Are bending to meet yearning love. For me, Within thine arms Upwards! Embraced and embracing! Upwards into thy bosom, O Father, all-loving!

 PROMETHEUS.

thy spacious heavens, Zeus, With clouds of mist, And like the boy who lops The thistles' heads, Disport with oaks and mountain-peaks; Yet thou must leave My earth still standing; My cottage, too, which was not raised by thee; Leave me my hearth, Whose kindly glow By thee is envied.

I know nought poorer Under the sun, than ye gods!


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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Ganymede

Ganymed Ганимед (Гёте/Струговщиков)


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Rh He saw his sweetheart 'midst the throng, Wrapped up in grave-clothes white and long; She turned, and ———

 THE ERL-KING.

rides there so late through the night dark and drear? The father it is, with his infant so dear; He holdeth the boy tightly clasped in his arm, He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.

"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?" "Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our side! Dost see not the Erl-King, with crown and with train?" "My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain."

"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh, come thou with me! Full many a game I will play there with thee; On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold, My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold."

"My father, my father, and dost thou not hear The words that the Erl-King now breathes in mine ear?" "Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives; 'Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves."

"Wilt go, then, dear infant, wilt go with me there? My daughters shall tend thee with sisterly care;


text: Index:History of England (Froude) Vol 2.djvu


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118 My daughters by night their glad festival keep, They'll dance thee, and rock thee, and sing thee to sleep."

"My father, my father, and dost thou not see, How the Erl-King his daughters has brought here for me?" "My darling, my darling, I see it aright, 'Tis the aged gray willows deceiving thy sight."

"I love thee, I'm charmed by thy beauty, dear boy! And if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ." "My father, my father, he seizes me fast, Full sorely the Erl-King has hurt me at last."

The father now gallops, with terror half wild, He grasps in his arms the poor shuddering child: He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread,— The child in his arms finds he motionless, dead.

 JOHANNA SEBUS.

"I'll bear thee, mother, across the swell, 'Tis not yet high, I can wade right well." "Remember us, too! in what danger are we! Thy fellow lodger and children three! The trembling woman!—Thou'rt going away!" She bears the mother across the spray.


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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Erl-King

Erlkönig La elfreĝo (Grabowski) Le Roi des Aulnes Elzenkoning Лесной царь (Гёте/Жуковский) Keijuinkuningas


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344 "I'll come up with you directly, if you'll let me," said Tom, "for I feel rather melancholy, and not quite up to the country-dance and supper with the rest."

"Do by all means," said the master; "I'll wait here for you."

So Tom went off to get his boots and things from the tent, to tell Arthur of the invitation, and to speak to his second in command about stopping the dancing and shutting up the close as soon as it grew dusk. Arthur promised to follow as soon as he had had a dance. So Tom handed his things over to the man in charge of the tent, and walked quietly away to the gate where the master was waiting, and the two took their way together up the Hillmorton road.

Of course they found the master's house locked up, and all the servants away in the close, about this time no doubt footing it away on the grass with extreme delight to themselves, and in utter oblivion of the unfortunate bachelor their master, whose one enjoyment in the shape of meals was his "dish of tea." (as our grandmothers called it) in the evening; and the phrase was apt in his case, for he always poured his out into the saucer before drinking. Great was the good man's horror at finding himself shut out of his own house. Had he been alone, he would have treated it as a matter of course, and would have strolled contentedly up and down his gravel-walk until some one came home; but he was hurt at the stain on his character of host, especially as the guest was a pupil. However, the guest seemed to think it a great joke, and presently, as they poked about round the house, mounted a wall, from which he could reach a passage window: the

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Rh window, as it turned out, was not bolted, so in another minute Tom was in the house and down at the front door, which he opened from inside. The master chuckled grimly at this burglarious entry, and insisted on leaving the hall-door and two of the front windows open, to frighten the truants on their return; and then the two set about foraging for tea, in which operation the master was much at fault, having the faintest possible idea of where to find anything, and being moreover wondrously short-sighted; but Tom by a sort of instinct knew the right cupboards in the kitchen and pantry, and soon managed to place on the snuggery table better materials for a meal than had appeared there probably during the reign of his tutor, who was then and there initiated, amongst other things, into the excellence of that mysterious condiment, a dripping-cake. The cake was newly baked, and all rich and flaky; Tom had found it reposing in the cook's private cupboard, awaiting her return; and as a warning to her, they finished it to the last crumb. The kettle sang away merrily on the hob of the snuggery, for, notwithstanding the time of year, they lighted a fire, throwing both the windows wide open at the same time; the heap of books and papers were pushed away to the other end of the table, and the great solitary engraving of King's College Chapel over the mantelpiece looked less stiff than usual, as they settled themselves down in the twilight to the serious drinking of tea.

After some talk on the match, and other indifferent subjects, the conversation came naturally back to Tom's approaching departure, over which he began again to make his moan.

"Well, we shall all miss you quite as much as

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The Metamorphosis of Plants

 * The Metamorphosis of Plants, an essay by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 * The Metamorphosis of Plants, a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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 as at once to tell you the sort of folk you'll have to meet and put up with, if you and I are to jog on comfortably together. You shall hear at once what sort of folk the Browns are, at least my branch of them; and then, if you don't like the sort, why cut the concern at once, and let you and I cry quits before either of us can grumble at the other.

In the first place, the Browns are a fighting family. One may question their wisdom, or wit, or beauty, but about their fight there can be no question. Wherever hard knocks of any kind, visible or invisible, are going, there the Brown who is nearest must shove in his carcase. And these carcases for the most part answer very well to the characteristic propensity; they are a square-headed and snake-necked generation, broad in the shoulder, deep in the chest, and thin in the flank, carrying no lumber. Then for clanship, they are as bad as Highlanders; it is amazing the belief they have in one another. With them there is nothing like the Browns, to the third and fourth generation. "Blood is thicker than water," is one of their pet sayings. They can't be happy unless they are always meeting one another. Never were such people for family gatherings, which, were you a stranger, or sensitive, you might think had better not have been gathered together. For during the whole time of their being together they luxuriate in telling one another their minds on whatever subject turns up; and their minds are wonderfully antagonistic, and all their opinions are downright beliefs. Till you've been among them some time and understand them, you can't think but that they are quarrelling. Not a bit of it: they love and respect one another ten times the more after a good set family arguing bout, and go back, one to his curacy, another

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says, "Despise not thou, my son, the training of the, nor faint when thou art rebuked of Him." What surpassing condescension! How gently does He deal with us; not as a teacher with his disciples, nor as a master with his servants, nor as a towards His creatures, but as a father instructs his sons! Moses confessed that he exceedingly feared and quaked when he heard concerning the word of ; but thou, who hearest that Word Himself, hast thou no dread, no distress of mind? no reverence, and earnestness withal to learn the truth? earnestness for salvation, fear of his wrath, delight in his promises, anxiety for acceptance, to rescue thee from condemnation? Come ye, O come, my band of young ones! Young ones, I say, for unless ye be born again as children, regenerated, as Scripture says, ye will not receive Him who is your own Father, nor will ever at any time gain entrance into the kingdom of heaven. To a stranger this is impossible; but when he has been enrolled by name and made a citizen, and submits to a new Father, then shall he be in the number of that Father's sons; then shall he be thought worthy of the inheritance. Thus is formed the first begotten Church, being made up of many holy children. These are "the first-born, whose names are written in heaven," who hold their "general assembly" with "an innumerable company of angels." Such are we, the nurslings of our, true "friends" by kindred of the First-Begotten, as


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 being the first of all men, to have discerned, saved ourselves from sin, and abjured the Devil.…

This is his sole work, to save man. Therefore he cries aloud, as urging us himself, "The kingdom of heaven is at hand." He converts men by means of fear. His apostle, in like manner, exhorting the Philippians, takes up his holy tidings, and repeats them. "The is at hand," he says, "see well that we be not found wanting." But, alas! ye are all so fearless, nay, unbelieving, that ye listen neither to the, nor to holy Paul, though he prays you in Christ' stead to taste and see that is. It is faith that must bring you in, experience must teach you, and the Scripture must lead you on in knowledge, according to its word: "Come, ye children, hearken to me; and I will teach you the fear of the ." Then it briefly addresses those who have already believed: "What man is there who lusteth to live, who would fain see good days?" We make answer. It is we; who worship him who is our happiness, and who copy those who are like him. Hear, then, both ye who afar off, and ye who are nigh. The word is hid from no one; it is a light in common; it lighteth every man; in it there is no darkness. Let us hasten to our salvation, even to our regeneration, so that, many though we be, we may be brought close together by one love, according to that oneness which the one imparts. Let us hasten, as having received a benefit; as seeking out our sole happiness. Let us follow after unity, till from many voices, loud and scattered to and fro, one divine harmony arises, led by one guide and teacher, the Divine Word, finding rest and fulness in the truth itself, and saying, Abba Father.

"Ye who thirst, come ye to the water," says the ; "all ye that have no silver, come and buy, yea, drink without silver." Thus does he exhort men to the holy bath, to their salvation, to their illumination, almost crying out to them, "Child, I give unto thee earth, and sea, and heaven; yea, all that is therein, I freely grant to thee: only, O my child, thirst for thy Father's presence. will reveal himself to thee without price; truth is not dealt out as by a trader. He gives thee all things that fly, and swim, and walk the earth; all these things has thy


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Rh THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS.

art confused, my beloved, at seeing the thousandfold union Shown in this flowery troop over the garden dispersed; Many a name dost thou hear assigned; one after another Falls on thy listening ear, with a barbarian sound. None resembleth another, yet all their forms have a likeness; Therefore a mystical law is by the chorus proclaimed; Yes, a sacred enigma! Oh, dearest friend, could I only Happily teach thee the word, which may the mystery solve! Closely observe how the plant, by little and little progressing, Step by step guided on, changeth to blossom and fruit! First from the seed it unravels itself, as soon as the silent Fruit-bearing womb of the earth kindly allows its escape. And to the charms of the light, the holy, the ever-in-motion, Trusteth the delicate leaves, feebly beginning to shoot. Simply slumbered the force in the seed; a germ of the future. Peacefully locked in itself, 'neath the integument lay, Leaf, and root, and bud, still void of colour, and shapeless; Thus doth the kernel, while dry, cover that motionless life.


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314 Upward then strives it to swell, in gentle moisture confiding, And, from the night where it dwelt, straightway ascendeth to light. Yet still simple remaineth its figure, when first it appeareth; And 'tis a token like this, points out the child 'mid the plants. Soon a shoot, succeeding it, rises on high, and reneweth, Piling up node upon node, ever the primitive form; Yet not ever alike; for the following leaf, as thou seest, Ever produceth itself, fashioned in manifold ways. Longer, more indented, in points and in parts more divided, Which, all-deformed until now, slept in the organ below. So at length it attaineth the noble and destined perfection, Which, in full many a tribe, fills thee with wondering awe. Many ribbed and toothed, on a surface juicy and swelling, Free and unending the shoot seemeth in fulness to be; Yet here Nature restraineth, with powerful hands, the formation, And to a perfect end, guided with softness its growth, Less abundantly yielding the sap, contracting the vessels, So that the figure ere long gentler effects doth disclose. Soon and in silence is checked the growth of the vigorous branches, And the rib of the stalk fuller becometh in form.


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 Father framed for thy enjoyment, so take and be thankful. Those who are but spurious born are forced to buy their possessions with silver; sons of perdition, willing slaves of mammon. But into thine hands he gives thine own." Thus speaks he to his true seed, to him who loves his Father, for whose sake he worketh still, to whom alone he pledges, that the earth shall be given as a lasting foundation, which is not promised to corruption: "For mine is all the earth;" it is thine, if thou receive thy ; and therefore Scripture proclaims as good tidings, to those who have believed, "The saints of the shall inherit the glory of, and his power."

"Hope in him," it is written, "all the assembly of the people; pour out your heart before him." He speaks to those who have newly turned from wickedness. He pities and fills them with righteousness. Trust, O mortal, in him who is both and man; who suffered and is worshipped, even a living. Ye servants, put your trust in him who was dead; yea, all men, trust in him who out of all men alone is. Believe and receive salvation as your reward; seek out, and your soul shall live. . . . . The most sublime philosophers could but guess, and speak darkly about wisdom, but the disciples of have seen and proclaimed it. Nay, and in all portions of him (so to say) is one and the same undivided; so that there is neither barbarian, Jew, nor Greek, male, nor female, but one new man refashioned by the. . . . . I do but ask you to accept salvation. What does desire, but freely to give you life? But who is he? The Word of truth, the builder of the inward temple, that may dwell with men. Sanctify that temple; pleasures and comforts, leave them, as flowers of the day, to the wind, and to the fire. . . . . The Word of shall guide thee, and the  settle thee in the peaceful dwelling of the heavens. There thou shalt enjoy the presence of the Christian's, and be initiated in his holy mysteries. Come, O heathen reveller, lean not on thy thyrsus, bind not on thine ivy. Cast away thy turban, and thy fawnskin; put off folly. I will show to thee the Word of, and


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Rh Leafless, however, and quick the tenderer stem then upspringeth, And a miraculous sight doth the observer enchant. Ranged in a circle in numbers that now are small, and now countless, Gather the small-sized leaves close by the side of their like. Round the axis compressed the sheltering calyx unfoldeth. And, as the perfectest type, brilliant-hued coronals forms. Thus doth Nature bloom, in glory still nobler and fuller, Showing, in order arranged, member on member upreared. Wonderment fresh dost thou feel, as soon as the stem rears the flower Over the scaffolding frail of the alternating leaves. But this glory is only the new creation's foreteller, Yes, the leaf with its hues feeleth the hand all divine. And on a sudden contracteth itself; the tenderest figures, Twofold as yet, hasten on, destined to blend into one. Lovingly now the beauteous pairs are standing together, Gathered in countless array, there where the altar is raised. Hymen hovereth o'er them, and scents delicious and mighty Stream forth their fragrance so sweet, all things enlivening around. Presently, parcelled out, unnumbered germs are seen swelling, Sweetly concealed in the womb, where is made perfect the fruit.


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316 Here doth Nature close the ring of her forces eternal; Yet doth a new one, at once, cling to the one gone before, So that the chain be prolonged for ever through all generations, And that the whole may have life, e'en as enjoyed by each part. Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the many-hued thousands Which, confusing no more, gladden the mind as they wave. Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the laws everlasting. Every floweret speaks louder and louder to thee; But if thou here canst decipher the mystic words of the goddess, Everywhere will they be seen, e'en though the features are changed. Creeping insects may linger, the eager butterfly hasten,— Plastic and forming, may man change e'en the figure decreed. Oh, then, bethink thee, as well, how out of the germ of acquaintance, Kindly intercourse sprang, slowly unfolding its leaves; Soon how friendship with might unveiled itself in our bosoms. And how Amor at length brought forth blossom and fruit! Think of the manifold ways wherein Nature hath lent to our feelings, Silently giving them birth, either the first or the last! Yes, and rejoice in the present day! For love that is holy Seeketh the noblest of fruits,—that where the thoughts are the same.


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 his mysteries, accommodating my account to thine own fashions. Here is the mount, beloved of, not the scene of tragic miseries, as Cithæron but a stage for truth to act upon, a holy mount, overshadowed with chaste and temperate groves. No Bacchantes revel here, with cruel rites, but the daughters of hold festival, the pure, the gracious, divine songstresses of the awful mysteries of the Word, with their modest band of worshippers. That band are the just ones: the song is a hymn in honour of the Almighty King. Virgins are singing it, angels are heralding it, prophets are repeating it. The chant sounds abroad; those who are called hurry to the gathering, they hasten on, desiring to regain their Father. Thou, too, aged one, thou too must join us, leaving thy Thebes, abjuring thy sooth-saying; put out thy hand, and let us lead thee to the truth. Hasten, O Tiresias, believe. He shall shine upon thy blind eyes more cheerily than the sun, through whom the eyes of the blind see. O mysteries of truest holiness! O unsullied Light! The sacred torches go before me, while I am brought into the presence of the heavens and himself; my initiation places me among the holy ones. The instructs me in his sacred rites; he seals his teachers with his illuminating guidance, and delivers over such as trust him to his Father, to be preserved for ever. He is everlasting, the one, the Great High Priest of the one  his Father, who intercedes for men, and who is their teacher.


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Rh Where the opinions agree,—that the pair may, in rapt contemplation. Lovingly blend into one,—find the more excellent world.

 RELIGION AND CHURCH.

wondrous noise is heard around! Through heaven exulting voices sound, A mighty army marches on. By thousand millions followed, lo, To yon dark place makes haste to go God's Son, descending from His throne! He goes—the tempests round Him break, As Judge and Hero cometh He; He goes—the constellations quake, The sun, the world quake fearfully.

I see Him in His victor-car, On fiery axles borne afar, Who on the cross for us expired. The triumph to yon realms He shows,— Remote from earth, where star ne'er glows,— The triumph He for us acquired. He cometh. Hell to extirpate, Whom He, by dying well-nigh killed; He shall pronounce her fearful fate; Hark! now the curse is straight fulfilled.


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38 No need then to sew, To school we ne'er go; Command uncontrolled, Have maids whom to scold; Choose clothes at our ease, Of what tradesmen we please; Walk freely about, And go to each rout, And unrestrained are By papa or mamma.

 THE FAREWELL.


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The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Farewell

Der Abschied


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A Farewell (Coates)

 * Coates, Florence Earle (1909), "A Farewell" in Lyrics of Life (1909).
 * Coates, Florence Earle (1916), "A Farewell" in Poems II.

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40 FAREWELL.

 WELCOME AND DEPARTURE.

horse!—away, o'er hill and steep! Into the saddle blithe I sprung; The eve was cradling earth to sleep, And night upon the mountain hung. With robes of mist around him set. The oak like some huge giant stood, While with its hundred eyes of jet, Peered darkness from the tangled wood.


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Farewell


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egbert

Egbert ( or ), frequently though incorrectly called "First King of England", d. A.D. 839. He styled himself in 828 Rex Anglorum, i.e. "Overlord of East Anglia", a title used by Offa fifty years before; in 830 he described himself as "King of the West Saxons and Kentishmen", and in 833 he is "King of the West Saxons". He came of the royal race descended from Ine of Wessex and, owing to his pretensions to power, was exiled by the joint action of Beorhtric of Wessex and Offa of Mercia. The date and duration of his exile are unknown, but he returned in 802 and was chosen King of the West Saxons. In 815 he ravaged Cornwall and conquered the West Welsh who dwelt there. They rebelled in 825, when he again defeated them just in time to repel a Mercian invasion at the battle of Ellandune. Shortly afterwards Kent, Surrey, Sussex, and Essex accepted him as king and East Anglia submitted to his overlordship. War with Mercia again broke out, and ended in Egbert driving out Wiglaf and receiving the submission of that kingdom. In 829 he attacked Northumbria, but the Northumbrians met him at Dore and recognized him as overlord.

Thus for the first time he had united the whole English race under one overlordship, in this way substantially justifying the title King of England, though the idea of territorial kingship had not at that time come into being. Nor was he actually king of all the subject tribes, for the underkings still ruled, though they were under him as Bretwalda. Thus he restored Wiglaf to the throne of Mercia and made his own son Ethelwulf King of the Kentishmen. In his own Kingdom of Wessex he developed the shire system, carefully regulating the relations of the ealdorman and the bishop to the shire. He also organized the Fyrd, or militia. His ecclesiastical policy was very favorable to the Church, and at the Council of Kingston, in 838, he gave the archbishop assurances of friendship and certain privileges which considerably strengthened the primatial see. In 831 he forced the North Welsh (the people of Wales) to accept his overlordship, but three years later he had to defend his realm from Scandinavian pirates who were invading Sheppey. He beat them off, but they returned in 835 and defeated him at Charmouth in Dorsetshire. In 837 he again had to meet a great fleet of Northmen, who on this occasion were helped by an insurrection of the West Welsh. He, however, won a great victory over the allies at Hengestdune, on the borders of Cornwall, after which he remained at peace till his death.

The chronology of the Anglo-Saxon chronicle is often two, and sometimes three, years out with regard to the events of his reign. His coins, which are rare, though specimens from nineteen different mints are known, bear his name and the title Rex, the additions Saxo, "M", or "A" denoting Wessex, Mercia, and East Anglia respectively.

EDWIN BURTON

title: Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egbert


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egbert, Archbishop of Trier

Egbert, Archbishop of Trier, d. 8 or December 9, 993. He belonged to the family of the Counts of Holland. His parents, Count Theodoric I and Countess Hildegarde, sent him to be educated in the Abbey of Egmont, located within their dominions. Egbert is first mentioned in history as head of the imperial chancery, then under Archbishop Willigis of Mainz. Documents of 976 and 977 record him as holding this office. In 977 he was made Archbishop of Trier, which see was vacant by the death of Theodoric. Here he remained till 993. He sought particularly to remove from this great diocese all traces of the ravages caused by the Northmen at the end of the ninth century, and to foster the ecclesiastical reforms that had been progressing since the days of Otto I. He completed the restoration, begun by his predecessor, of the Abbey of S. Maria ad Martyres near Trier. Just outside the city he built the abbey-church of St. Eucharius (St. Mathias), to which Otto II contributed generously. On this occasion the body of St. Celsus was discovered. The abbey itself was richly endowed and its monastic school flourished again. The collegiate church of St. Paulinus, near Trier, was similarly endowed, a regular income for its clergy assured, and a fitting solemnity in Divine worship made possible. Abbot Hetzel of Mettlach was deposed for conduct unworthy of his vows and station. The monastery was reformed, and its school became an active center of studious occupations. In Münstermaifeld St. Martin's was raised to the dignity of a collegiate church and was correspondingly endowed. From all these regenerated centers, like-wise from the Abbeys of Echternach and St. Maximin, that needed no reformation, a beneficent, spiritual, and intellectual influence radiated in all directions through the diocese.

Egbert was an intimate friend of Otto II, and with Willigis of Mainz exerted a wholesome influence over the emperor, whom he accompanied on his journey to Italy in 983. After Otto's death he stood at first for Henry the Wrangler (Zanker), but soon went over to Otto III and his mother Theophano. Other evidence of the religious renaissance in the Diocese of Trier is found in the admirable works of ecclesiastical art inspired by Egbert and executed mostly in Trier itself. Among these are several valuable manuscripts: the famous "Codex Egberti", a book of Gospels written at Reichenau and richly adorned with miniatures, now preserved in the city library of Trier; the "Psalterium Egberti", written in 981 and now in the chapter library of Cividale (Italy), to which it was donated by St. Elizabeth of Thuringia (also called the "Codex Gertrudianus", after the Russian Grand Duchess Gertrude, who became its possessor in 1085); the "Codex Epternacensis", which contains also the Four Gospels and is kept in the Gotha library; likewise several Sacramentaries, transcripts from the "Letter Book" (Registrum) of St. Gregory the Great (596-604), etc. The arts of the goldsmith and of the worker in enamel were particularly well cultivated at Trier. Among valuable specimens still extant are: at Trier a portable altar, at Limburg the golden case or covering with richly adorned head of the so-called St. Peter's Staff, once a part of the relics of the Trier cathedral, now in the sacristy of the Franciscan church at Lim-burg. Egbert was buried in the chapel of St. Andrew, built by him near the cathedral of Trier.

J. P. KIRSCH


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egbert, Archbishop of York

Egbert, Archbishop of York, England, son of Eata, brother of the Northumbrian King Eadbert and cousin of King Ceolwulf, to whom the Venerable Bede dedicated his history; date of birth unknown; d. November 19, 766. He received his early education in a monastery, and then went to Rome with his brother Ecgred, where he was ordained a deacon. Ecgred died in Rome and Egbert immediately returned to Northumbria. On the resignation of the Bishopric of York by Wilfrid II in 732, King Ceolwulf appointed Egbert his successor. Shortly after his accession Bede wrote a long letter to him advising him to give much time to study and prayer, to ordain more priests for the administration of the sacraments, and to translate the Creed and the Lord's Prayer into the Saxon tongue. He also urged him to strive to obtain the subdivision of many of the dioceses of the North in order that episcopal visitations might be more frequently made. He called his attention to many disorders that were prevalent and particularly urged him to secure the pallium for himself. Acting upon this advice Egbert obtained the pallium from Gregory III at Rome in

725, and thus became the second Archbishop of York, that title having been lost to the Church of York ever since Paulinus had fled into Kent more than a century before. During all those years no one had sought for the restoration of that lost dignity, and this neglect was afterwards used as a strong argument in favor of the precedence of Canterbury, when the well-known controversy arose between the two sees. The restoration of the pallium to Egbert increased his power and authority over the Northern bishops, who thus became his suffragans; and his power was still more strengthened in 738 when his brother Eadbert succeeded to the throne of Northumbria.

Egbert was thus placed in a position which enabled him to carry out many reforms, and in the performance of these he proved himself a strict disciplinarian; but though stern when correction and rebuke were justly deserved, he was remarkable for his sweetness and gentleness. His pupil Alcuin frequently speaks of his piety and energy and always refers to him in terms of the deepest affection. "He is said to have been the first prelate who possessed a mint at York. He paid great attention to the services and music of his church, introducing the observance of the Hours. He was also a benefactor to the fabric of the minster, bestowing upon his cathedral the choice work of the jeweller and the goldsmith, and giving to it figured curtains of silk of foreign workmanship. He was, in all probability, the first introducer of the parochial system into the North" (Fasti Ebor.). One of his greatest works, perhaps, was the foundation of the famous School of York and its celebrated library. The renown of its masters and scholars soon spread through every Christian country, and noble youths from all parts flocked to York to be taught by the great archbishop. He himself taught divinity, whilst his assistant Albert, who afterwards succeeded him as archbishop, gave lessons in grammar and in the arts and sciences. The fact that the illustrious Alcuin was Egbert's pupil, sheds no little lustre on this famous school.

The archbishop's daily work has been thus described by Alcuin himself: "As soon as he was at leisure in the morning, he sent for some of the young clerks, and sitting on his couch taught them successively till noon, at which time he retired to his private chapel and celebrated Mass. After dinner, at which he ate sparingly, he amused himself with hearing his pupils discuss literary questions in his presence. In the evening he recited with them the service of complin, and then calling them in order, he gave his blessing to each as they knelt in succession at his feet" (Mabillon, Acta SS. Ord. S.B., ad an. 815). Towards the end of his life he left the care of the school to Albert and Alcuin, giving himself more time and opportunity to prepare for his end in peace and tranquility. In this life of retirement and prayer he was joined by his brother King Eadbert, who voluntarily resigned his throne to enter the monastery in 757. Egbert died before his brother, having ruled over the Diocese of York nearly thirty-four years. He was buried in one of the porches of his cathedral at York. His best-known work is the "De Jure Sacerdotali", a collection of canonical regulations. Extracts from it made in the eleventh century, under the title of "Excerptions e dictis et canonibus SS. patrum" (Mansi, XII, 411-32; Wilkins, I, 101-12), were long current as a work of Egbert. Among the writings attributed to him are a "Pontificale", or series of special offices for the use of a bishop; a "Dialogus Ecclesiasticae Institutionis"; a "Confessionale', and a "Poenitentiale", both of which were written in the vernacular as well as in Latin. The "Pontificale", an important liturgical text, has been published by the Surtees Society, and his other works may be found in the second volume of Thorpe's "Ancient Laws and Institutes of England". In its present shape the "Poenitentiale Egberti" (P.L., LXXXIX, 411 sqq.) contains but little from the hand of Egbert, and is a ninth-century Frankish compilation, put together mostly from Halitgar. Similarly, the "Dialogus Eccl. Institutionis" (Mansi, XII, 482-88) is said not to be from Egbert in its present form (see Ancient See of York; Penitential Books; Liber Pontificalis).

G. E. HIND


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Rh FROM THE MOUNTAIN.

 MAY SONG.


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egfrid

Egfrid (also known as, , ), King of Northumbria, b. 650; d. 685. He ascended the Northumbrian throne at Oswy's death in 670, and after defeating the Picts who had thought to impose upon his youth by asserting their independence, turned his attention to Wulphere, King of Mercia, and broke, for a time, the power of the southern kingdom. In 679 new trouble with Mercia arose, and in the course of the subsequent struggle Aelfwin, Egfrid's brother, was slain. Through the intervention of Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, peace was at last restored and in lieu of vengeance Egfrid was prevailed upon to accept the legal wergild (fine) for his brother's death.

Egfrid now consolidated his kingdom by diplomacy, annexation, and treaty, bringing Cumberland, Galloway, and North Lancashire under Northumbrian influence. The desire for conquest, however, had entered his veins, and in 684 he dispatched an expedition into Ireland. The invasion was unsuccessful, but nevertheless was productive of much damage and bitterness to a hospitable, friendly people who had conferred numerous benefits on the Angles and who found violence where they expected gratitude. Disregarding the advice of his counsellors, Egfrid led an expedition against the Picts the next year, and, being decoyed into the mountain passes, was trapped and slain. He was buried by the victors in the cemetery on the isle of Hii or Iona, and his brother succeeded to the Northumbrian throne.

See also Saint Etheldreda; Diocese of Ely.

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title: Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Egfrid


text:
The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/May Song ("Between wheat-field and corn")

Goetheho vybrané básně/Píseň májová Mayfest (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Chant de Mai, trad. Camus Майская песня (Гёте/Фет)


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Frederick W. von Egloffstein

Egloffstein,, b. at Aldorf, near Nuremberg, Bavaria, May 18, 1824; d. in New York, 1885. He served in the Prussian army in his early manhood and then emigrated to the United States. Von Egloffstein has been called "The Father of Halftone Engraving" in the United States, for the reason that he was the first one to employ ruled glass screens, together with photography, to produce engravings. In 1861 he engaged Samuel Sartain, a steel engraver, to rule with wavy lines numbering 250 to the inch glass plates covered with an opaque varnish, and he was engaged in perfecting his experiments in this direction when the Civil War broke out. Abandoning his business, he joined the Union army as a volunteer from New York and was commissioned a colonel. While leading a skirmish in North Carolina, April 27, 1862, he was severely wounded and retired from the service with the brevet rank of brigadier general. Under the patronage of Archbishop McCloskey he then took up his new system of engraving again, and one of Murillo's madonnas and a picture of the facade of St. Francis Xavier's College, New York, were produced by his patented process. Von Egloffstein thought to circumvent counterfeiting, so prevalent at that period, by having bank-notes engraved by his method.

Through Baron Gerolt, Prussian Minister at Washington, he was introduced to a number of officials and prominent men, who organized The Heliographic Engraving and Printing Company, with a plant in New York City. There the von Egloffstein process of engraving was carried on in a secret manner. Each group of workmen was taught a part of the work, but no one was permitted to see the whole process. The United States Government refused to adopt von Egloffstein's method of engraving, and the company abandoned the project. The common method of engraving now is by means of ruled glass screens and photography. Glass screens ruled with wavy lines, such as von Egloffstein adopted in 1861, are also being used (1909). Von Egloffstein, as a member of the United States engineering department, later performed valuable services for the Government in the submarine work at Rock Island, Illinois, and in the blasting operations at Hell Gate in New York Harbor.

S. H. HORGAN


text: The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/From the Mountain


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Lamoral, Count of Egmont, Prince of Gâvre

Egmont,, b. at the Château de La Hamaide, in Hainault, November 18, 1522; beheaded at Brussels, June 5, 1568. He was a descendant of one of the oldest families of the Low Countries; his patrimonial castle, near the abbey of the same name, was on the coast of the North Sea, about three miles west of Alkmaar, Holland. In 1538 he went to Spain with his elder brother, Charles, and both took part in the expedition to Algiers in 1541, in which Charles was injured. Charles died the following year. Lamoral succeeded to the title and estates, which, beside those of Holland, comprised the principality of Gaevre, seven or eight baronies, and a number of seigniories. When, in 1544, he married Sabina, Duchess of Bavaria and Countess Palatine of the Rhine, the emperor and the King of the Romans assisted at his wedding. Egmont distinguished himself in various campaigns during the reign of Charles V, who, when he was only twenty-six years of age, invested him with the Order of the Golden Fleece, and appointed him to several confidential missions such as sending him to England to seek the hand of Queen Mary for Philip II. His principal titles to military glory are two battles which he won against the French: the battle of St-Quentin, which was fought through his vehement per-suasion (1557), and that of Gravelines, the honor of which is due to him exclusively. As a reward for his services he was nominated by Philip II, in 1559, stadtholder of the province of Flanders, and a member of the Council of State for the Low Countries.

But these honors did not satisfy Egmont. Though handsome, brave, rich, generous, and popular, still he viewed with jealousy the prominence given Cardinal Granvella, who was in the confidence of the king. He entered a vigorous protest against the proceedings of this minister and clamored for his removal, going so far as to refuse to sit in the Council of State if Granvella were allowed to remain. His hatred of the king's favorite led him into the plots of William of Orange against the Spanish Government. Later, when religious troubles broke out in Flanders, it was evident that he did not rise to the occasion; he granted the sectarians concessions emphatically disapproved of by the king and assumed a quite equivocal attitude in the matter of the iconoclasts. It is true that he alleged, in excuse, that there were no troops at his disposal and that he was therefore rendered powerless. On the other hand, he refused to take part in the plots against the Government, and when the Duke of Alva arrived in the Netherlands, he would not follow the Prince of Orange into exile, saying that his was a clear conscience. This attitude cost him his life. With the Count of Hoorn he was arrested by the orders of the duke and condemned to death, despite his appeal to the privilege of the Golden Fleece. Both were declared guilty of high treason by the Conseil des Troubles, a court established by the Duke of Alva, and which was his servile instrument. The two friends were beheaded amid universal grief. Egmont met his death with dignity and Christian resignation; he protested to the last moment his devotion to his religion and his king, and to the latter's compassion recommended his wife, who, through the confiscation of his property, was left penniless with the care of eleven children. Egmont had been imprudent, but was guilty of no crime. His death was thenceforth one of the principal grievances of the Low Countries against the Spanish Government.

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text:
May Song

 * May Song ("Between wheat-field and corn"), a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 * May Song ("How gloriously gleameth all nature to me!"), a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, also published under the title Mayfest
 * , a poem

title: May Song