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Rh now executioners. Put that girl into it, and keep rowing off until you hear the report of firing; you will then return.'

"The idea of obeying a piece of paper that way!—for after all it was but that. There must have been something in the air which forced me on. I caught a glimpse of that young man—oh! it was horrible to see!—kneeling before his Laurette, and kissing her knees and her feet. Was n't it a hard case for me? I shouted like a madman, 'Separate them!—we are all a set of wretches—separate them! The poor Republic is a dead body—Directors, Directory, vermin all! I quit the sea for ever! I'm not afraid of all your lawyers! Let them tell them what I say—what do I care?' Oh! but I did care for them! I would have wished to have held them in my grasp, and shot them all five, the scoundrels! Oh, yes! I would have done it. I cared for my life about as much as for that water that's pouring there—yes, indeed,—as if I cared for that—a life like mine—ah, yes, indeed—mere life—bah—"

And the voice of the commandant gradually went out, and became as indistinct as his words; and he walked on biting his lips and knitting his brows in a terrific and fierce abstraction. He had little twitching movements, and gave his mule knocks with the scabbard of his sword, as if he wished to kill it. And what astonished me


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152 was to see the yellow skin of his face flush to a deep red. He undid his coat on his breast, and threw it violently open, baring it to the rain and the wind.

"I can well understand," said I, as though he had finished his story, "how, after so cruel an adventure, you should have taken an abhorrence to yourbusinessyour business [sic]."

"Oh! as for the business, are you crazy?" said he, quickly; "it is not the business. No captain of a vessel will ever be forced to turn executioner, except when governments of assassins and thieves get on foot, who will take advantage of the habit a poor man has of always obeying, blindly obeying with a miserable mechanical compulsion in spite of his very self."

At the same time he drew out of his pocket a red handkerchief, and began to weep like a child. I stopped for a moment, as if to arrange my stirrup, and hanging back behind his wagon, walked some time after him, for I felt that he would be mortified if I perceived too plainly his streaming tears.

I had judged rightly, for in about a quarter of an hour he also came behind the poor little wagon, and asked me if I had any razors in my portmanteau; to which I simply answered, that, as I had no beard yet, they would be very unnecessary to me. But he did not care about that; it was to speak of something else. I soon

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


text: Author:Max Armstrong

title: Author:Max Armstrong


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Rh was glad to see that he was returning to his story, for he suddenly said:

"You never have seen a ship, have you?"

"I never have," answered I, "excepting in the Panorama of Paris, and I would not trust much to the nautical science I derived from that."

"Then you do not know what the catheads are?"

"I have not the least idea," said I.

"They are a kind of beams projecting in front from the bows of the vessel, from which the anchor is thrown off. When a man is to be shot, he is usually placed there," he added in a low tone.

"Oh! I understand, so that he then falls into the water?"

He did not answer, but began to describe the small boats of a vessel. And then, and without any order in his ideas, he continued his tale, with that affected air of unconcern, which a long service in the army invariably gives, because you must show your inferiors your contempt of danger, your contempt of men, your contempt of life, your contempt of death, and even your contempt of yourself. And all this generally hides, under a rough envelope, very deep feelings. The roughness of a soldier is like a mask of iron over a noble face; like the stone dungeon that incloses a royal prisoner.

"These boats hold more than eight rowers,"


text: Author:Arthur Lambert Widner

title: Author:Arthur Lambert Widner


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154 he continued. "They seized Laurette and placed her in one, before she had time either to cry or to speak. Ah! this is a thing which no honest man can ever find comfort for when it has been his doing. You may talk as you please, one never forgets such an affair. Ah, what weather this is!—what the d could have possessed me to tell you all this? Whenever I begin this, I can't stop. It is a story which makes me fairly drunk like the Jurançon wine. Ah, what weather it is! My cloak is soaked through!

"I was telling you, I believe, still about that little Laurette! Poor girl!—What clumsy people there are in the world! My sailors were so stupid as to take the boat straight ahead of the brig. After all, it's true one cannot foresee everything. For my own part, I had counted on the night to hide the matter, and did not think about the flash a dozen muskets would make, fired at once. And the fact is that from the boat she saw her husband fall into the water—shot. If there is a God up there, He only knows how what I am going to tell you took place; as for me, I know nothing about it, but it was seen and heard, as I see and hear you. At the moment of the fire, she raised her hand to her forehead, as if a ball had struck her there, and sat down in the boat without fainting, without screaming, and returned to the brig just when they wanted her, and just as they wanted her.


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Rh him a letter. With thoughts yet busy with new title and court, Counsellor Bagger broke the letter, but remained as if fixed to the ground. In it he read:

One says well, that a man's love or season of courtship lasts till his thirtieth year, and after that time he is ambitious; but it is not always so, and with Counsellor Bagger it was in all respects the contrary. His ambition was already, if not fully reached, yet in some degree satisfied. The faculty of love had not been at all employed, and the letter came like a spark in a powder-cask; it ran glowing through every nerve. The youthful half of his soul, which had slept within him, wakened with such sudden, revolutionary strength, that the other half soul, which until now had borne rule, became completely subject; yes, so wholly, that Counsellor Bagger went past the court-house and came down in Court-house Street without noticing it. Suddenly he missed the big building with the pillars and inscription: "With law shall Lands be built;" looked around confused, and turned back.

So much was he still at this moment Criminal Examiner, that among the first thoughts or feelings which the mysterious letter excited in him


text: Author:Edward Joseph Hanna

title: Author:Edward Joseph Hanna


text:
Jerusalem. The Emanation of the Giant Albion/Plate 5

The banks of the Thames are clouded! the ancient porches of Albion are Darken'd! they are drawn thro' unbounded space, scatter'd upon The Void in incoherent despair! Cambridge & Oxford & London, Are driven among the starry Wheels, rent away and dissipated, In Chasms & Abysses of sorrow, enlarg'd without dimension, terrible[.] Albions mountains run with blood, the cries of war & of tumult Resound into the unbounded night, every Human perfection Of mountain & river & city, are small & wither'd & darken'd	Cam is a little stream! Ely is almost swallowd up! Lincoln & Norwich stand trembling on the brink of Udan-Adan! Wales and Scotland shrink themselves to the west and to the north! Mourning for fear of the warriors in the Vale of Entuthon-Benython Jerusalem is scatterd abroad like a cloud of smoke thro' non-entity: Moab & Ammon & Amalek & Canaan & Egypt & Aram Recieve her little-ones for sacrifices and the delights of cruelty Trembling I sit day and night, my friends are astonish'd at me. Yet they forgive my wanderings, I rest not from my great task! To open the Eternal Worlds, to open the immortal Eyes Of Man inwards into the Worlds of Thought: into Eternity Ever expanding in the Bosom of God. the Human Imagination O Saviour pour upon me thy Spirit of meekness & love: Annihilate the Selfhood in me, be thou all my life! Guide thou my hand which trembles exceedingly upon the rock of ages, While I write of the building of Golgonooza, & of the terrors of Entuthon: Of Hand & Hyle & Coban, of Kwantok, Peachey, Brereton, Slayd & Hutton: Of the terrible sons & daughters of Albion. and their Generations.

Scofield! Kox, Kotope and Bowen, revolve most mightily upon The Furnace of Los: before the eastern gate bending their fury. They war, to destroy the Furnaces, to desolate Golgonooza: And to devour the Sleeping Humanity of Albion in rage & hunger. They revolve into the Furnaces Southward & are driven forth Northward Divided into Male and Female forms time after time. From these Twelve all the Families of England spread abroad.

The Male is a Furnace of beryll; the Female is a golden Loom; I behold them and their rushing fires overwhelm my Soul, In Londons darkness; and my tears fall day and night, Upon the Emanations of Albions Sons! the Daughters of Albion Names anciently rememberd, but now contemn'd as fictions! Although in every bosom they controll our Vegetative powers.

These are united into Tirzah and her Sisters, on Mount Gilead, Cambel & Gwendolen & Conwenna & Cordella & Ignoge. And these united into Rahab in the Covering Cherub on Euphrates Gwiniverra & Gwinefred, & Gonorill & Sabrina beautiful, Estrild, Mehetabel & Ragan, lovely Daughters of Albion They are the beautiful Emanations of the Twelve Sons of Albion

The Starry Wheels revolv'd heavily over the Furnaces; Drawing Jerusalem in anguish of maternal love, Eastward a pillar of a cloud with Vala upon the mountains Howling in pain, redounding from the arms of Beulahs Daughters, Out from the Furnaces of Los above the head of Los. A pillar of smoke writhing afar into Non-Entity, redounding Till the cloud reaches afar outstretch'd among the Starry Wheels Which revolve heavily in the mighty Void above the Furnaces O what avail the loves & tears of Beulahs lovely Daughters They hold the Immortal Form in gentle bands & tender tears But all within is open'd into the deeps of Entuthon Benython A dark and unknown night, indefinite, unmeasurable, without end. Abstract Philosophy warring in enmity against Imagination (Which is the Divine Body of the Lord Jesus. blessed for ever). And there Jerusalem wanders with Vala upon the mountains, Attracted by the revolutions of those Wheels the Cloud of smoke Immense, and Jerusalem & Vala weeping in the Cloud Wander away into the Chaotic Void, lamenting with her Shadow Among the Daughters of Albion, among the Starry Wheels; Lamenting for her children, for the sons & daughters of Albion

Los heard her lamentations in the deeps afar! his tears fall Incessant before the Furnaces, and his Emanation divided in pain, Eastward toward the Starry Wheels. But Westward, a black Horror,


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Rh I went to her, and talked to her a long time, the best I could. She seemed to be listening to me, and looked me in the face, rubbing her forehead with her hands. But she did not understand; and her face was quite pale, and her forehead red. She trembled all over, as if she was afraid of everybody. She has remained so ever since—in just the same state, poor little soul!—an idiot, or imbecile, as it were, or crazy, or whatever you please. Nobody has ever drawn a word out of her, except when she asks to have what she has in her head taken out.

"From that hour I became as melancholy as herself, and I felt something in me which said: ' Stand by her till the end of thy days, and watch over her.' I have done it. When I returned to France, I asked leave to pass with my rank into the army, having taken an aversion to the sea, for the innocent blood I had cast into it. I sought out Laurette's family. Her mother was dead, and her sisters, to whom I brought her crazy, did not want the trouble of her, and offered to place her at Charanton. I turned my back upon them, and kept her with me.

"If you want to see her, comrade, you have only to say the word. Here—hold on. Ho!—ho!—you beast!"


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156

he stopped his poor mule, who seemed delighted that I had asked that question. At the same time he lifted the oilcloth cover of the little wagon, as if to arrange the straw, which nearly filled it, and I saw something very mournful. I saw two blue eyes, of enormous size, indeed, but of admirable shape, starting out from a face that was thin and lengthened, covered over with waves of loose, fair hair. In fact, I saw nothing but those two eyes, which seemed the whole of that poor woman, for all the rest was dead. Her forehead was red, and her cheeks hollow and pale, with a bluish tinge. She was bent double in the midst of the straw, so that only her two knees were seen out of it, on which she was playing dominoes all by herself. She looked at us for a moment, trembled for a long time, smiled a little at me, and went on with her game. She seemed to be trying to see how her right hand could beat her left.

"You see, she has been playing that game for a month," said the chef-de-bataillon, "to-morrow it will, perhaps, be another game, which will last a long time. It's queer, eh?"

At the same time he set about arranging the oilcloth of his shako, which the rain had somewhat disordered.


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Rh "Poor Laurette!" said I, "ah, you have lost the game for ever!"

I neared my horse to the wagon, and stretched out my hand to her; she gave me hers mechanically, and smiled with a great deal of sweetness. I observed with surprise two diamond rings on her long, thin fingers. I supposed they were still her mother's rings, and wondered how their poverty had left them there. For the world I would not have made a remark upon it to the old commandant, but as he followed my eyes, and saw them fixed on Laurette's fingers, he said, with a certain air of pride:

"They are pretty large diamonds, are they not? They might bring a good price if necessary. But I was never willing that she should part from them, poor child! If you but touch them she weeps; and she never leaves them off. Otherwise she never complains; and now and then she can sew. I have kept my word to her poor young husband, and, to tell the truth, I have never repented it, I have never left her, and have always said she was my crazy daughter. As such she has always been respected. These things are managed better in the army than they imagine in Paris. She went through all the wars of the Emperor with me, and I have always kept her out of harm's way. She has always been kept warm; with straw and a little wagon that is never impossible. She has had pretty comfortable


text: Author:Joseph Narcisse Gignac

title: Author:Joseph Narcisse Gignac


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158 things about her; and as I was a chef-de-bataillon, with good pay, my legion of honor pension, and the Napoleon month, the pay of which was double in those times, I was always well off, and she gave me no trouble. On the contrary, her pretty childish ways often amused the officers of the light 7th."

He then approached her, and slapped her gently on the shoulder, as he would have done to his little mule.

"Well, now, my daughter, talk a little to the lieutenant. Come—let's see—a little sign of the head!"

She busied herself anew with her dominoes.

"Oh!" said he, "she is a little cross to-day, because it rains. However, she never takes cold. Crazy people never get sick, you know; it's very convenient in that respect. At the Beresina, and through all the retreat from Moscow, she went bare-headed. Come, my dear child, play on, play on—don't let us disturb you; take your own way, then, Laurette."

She took hold of the coarse, black hand which he rested on her shoulder, and carried it timidly to her lips, like a poor slave. I felt my heart sink at that kiss, and turned my bridle quickly away.

"Shall we not resume our march, commandant?" said I, "it will be night before we reach Bcthune."


text: Author:Charles Roland Forster

title: Author:Charles Roland Forster


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Rh The commandant carefully scraped the mud from his boots with the end of his sword; he then mounted on the step of the wagon, drew forward over Laurette's head the hood of a little cloak she had on, took off his own black silk cravat, and put it round the neck of his adopted daughter; after which he gave a kick to his mule, and saying, "Get along, you lazy beast!" we continued our journey.

The rain was still falling gloomily; we found on the road only dead horses, abandoned, with their saddles. The gray sky and gray earth stretched out without end; a sort of dead light, a pale wet sun was sinking behind some large windmills, which did not turn, and we fell back into a long silence.

I looked at the old commandant; he walked on with long strides and untiring energy, whilst his mule could hardly keep along, and even my horse began to droop his head. The brave old fellow took off his shako from time to time, to wipe his bald forehead and the few gray hairs on his head, or his white moustache from which the rain was dripping. He did not think anything about the effect his recital might have produced on me; he had made himself out neither better nor worse than he was; he had not deigned to draw himself; he did not think of himself; and at the end of a quarter of an hour, he began on the same key a much longer story of a campaign


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160 of Marshal Massena, in which he had formed his battalion in a square against some cavalry or other. I did not listen to him, although he grew quite warm, in endeavoring to prove to me the superiority of infantry over cavalry.

Night came on; we did not get along fast; the mud became thicker and deeper. Nothing on the road, and nothing at the end of it. We stopped at the foot of a dead tree, the only tree on the road; he bestowed his first cares on his mule, as I did on my horse; he then looked into the wagon, as a mother would have done into the cradle of her child. I heard him say:

"Come, my dear, put this overcoat on your feet, and try to sleep. Come, that is right! she has not been touched by a drop of rain. Ah, the d she has broken my watch which I had left round her neck. Oh, my poor silver watch! Come, come, it's no matter, my child, try to sleep. The fine weather will soon come back again. It's queer, she always has a fever—that's the way with crazy people—see, here is some chocolate for you, my child."

He rested the wagon against the tree, and we sat down on the wheels, under cover from the everlasting rain, each with a little loaf,—a poor supper.

"I am sorry we have nothing but this," said he, "but it is better than horseflesh baked under ashes, with powder for salt, such as we had in


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Rh Russia. The poor little soul, I must always give her the best I have; you see, I put it on one side for her; she cannot bear to suffer the vicinity of a man, since the affair of the letter. I am old, and she seems to fancy me to be her father; yet she would strangle me, if I attempted to kiss her, even upon her forehead. Their early education must always leave some impression on them, for I have never seen her once forget to veil herself like a nun. It's queer, eh?"

Whilst he was thus talking to me, we heard her sigh and say: "Take away this lead! take away this lead!" I rose in spite of myself; he made me sit down again.

"Stay, stay," said he; "it is no matter. She says that all her life, because she always fancies she feels a ball in her head. That does not hinder her doing all that she is told to do, and that with the greatest sweetness."

I listened mournfully to him, but without any reply. I calculated that, from 1797 to 1815, eighteen years had thus passed with this man. I remained a long while in silence by his side, trying to explain to myself such a character, and such a fate. I then abruptly gave him an enthusiastic shake of the hand; he did not know what to make of it.

"You are a worthy man," said I.

"What for?" he answered. "Because of this poor woman? You see perfectly well, my boy,


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162 that was a duty." And he began to talk again about Massena.

The next morning, by daylight, we arrived at Béthune, an ugly little fortified town, the ramparts of which, in narrowing their circle, seemed to have squeezed the houses together upon each other. All was in confusion; it was the moment of an alerte. The inhabitants were taking the white flags from the windows, and sewing the tricolors to their houses; the arms were beating the générale, and the trumpets sounded to horse! by order of the Duc de Berry. The long Picard wagons carrying the Hundred-Swiss and their baggage, the cannons of the Body-Guard hurrying to their ramparts, the carriages of the princes, the mustering the squadrons of the red companies, blocked up the town. The sight of the Gens-d'armes of the king, and the Mousquetaires, made me forget my old travelling companion. I rejoined my company, and lost sight of the little wagon and its poor occupant in the crowd. To my great regret, it was for ever that I lost them.

It was the first time in my life that I had read the depths of the true heart of a soldier. This adventure revealed to me an aspect of human nature, which I had not seen before, and which the nation little knows and ill rewards. I placed it from that time high in my esteem. I have often since sought around me for a man like that one, and capable of such an entire and careless


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Rh abnegation of self. During the fourteen years I have lived in the army, it is only there, and above all in the poor and despised ranks of the infantry, that I have found those men of an antique stamp carrying out the feeling of duty to all its possible consequences; knowing neither remorse for obedience, nor shame for poverty; simple in their manners, and in their speech; proud of the glory of the nation, but careless of their own; shutting themselves up cheerfully in their own obscurity, to divide with the unfortunate the black bread they pay for with their blood.

I remained long ignorant of what had become of my poor chef-de-bataillon, especially as he had not told me his name, and I had not asked him. One day, however, at a coffee-house, I believe in 1825, an old captain of infantry to whom I was describing him, as we were waiting for parade, said:

"Eh, pardieu, I knew that poor devil! He was a brave fellow,—he came down by a ball at Waterloo. And he had, in fact, left a crazy girl with the baggage, whom we took to the hospital at Amiens, as we went to the army of the Loire, and who died there raving mad, at the end of three days."

"I can readily imagine it," said I, "she had lost her foster-father."


text:
Author talk:Charles Roland Forster

Biographical sources
Forster's full name and address are listed in The Futurian War Digest, Issue 19 (Vol. 2, Number 7) Apr 1942 (hosted by efanzines.com). - AdamBMorgan (talk) 20:34, 23 August 2012 (UTC)
 * Capsule auto-biography in Issue 26 (Vol. 3, Number 4) Feb 1943. - AdamBMorgan (talk) 20:41, 23 August 2012 (UTC)

title: Author talk:Charles Roland Forster


text: Author:James David O'Neill

title: Author:James David O'Neill


text: Author:C. L. Leighton

title: Author:C. L. Leighton


text: Author:Francis Patrick Duffy

title: Author:Francis Patrick Duffy


text: Author:Richard H. Jamison

title: Author:Richard H. Jamison


text: Author:Ian C. Knox

title: Author:Ian C. Knox


text: Author:Robert Oberon

title: Author:Robert Oberon


text: Author:D. Rouse

title: Author:D. Rouse


text: Author:Charles Waldman

title: Author:Charles Waldman


text: Author:Jean-Baptiste Piolet

title: Author:Jean-Baptiste Piolet


text:
Author:Bruce Bryan

Works

 * with Earl Peirce, Jr.
 * with Earl Peirce, Jr.
 * with Earl Peirce, Jr.

title: Author:Bruce Bryan


text: Author:Fred John Walsen

title: Author:Fred John Walsen


text:
Category:Letters pages

Letters pages printed in periodicals and similar publications.

title: Category:Letters pages


text: Author:Cornelius Clifford

title: Author:Cornelius Clifford


text:
Author:Aurelius Ambrosius

Collections

 * Volume X of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series II, ed. Philip Schaff et. al.

Theological works

 * On Faith, to Gratian Augustus (De fide ad Gratianum Augustum)
 * On the Offices of Ministers (De Officiis Ministrorum)
 * On the Holy Spirit (De Spiritu Sancto)
 * On the Sacrament of the Incarnation of the Lord (De incarnationis Dominicae sacramento)
 * Exposition of the Christian Faith
 * On the Mysteries (De mysteriis)
 * Commentary on the Gospel according to Luke (Expositio evangelii secundum Lucam)
 * Sermons, fragments

Ethical works

 * Death as a Good (De bono mortis)
 * Flight From the World (De fuga saeculi)
 * On the Birth of the Virgin and the Perpetual Virginity of Mary (De institutione virginis et sanctae Mariae virginitate perpetua ad Eusebium)
 * On Naboth (De Nabuthae)
 * On Repentance (De paenitentia)
 * On Paradise (De paradiso)
 * On the Sacraments (De sacramentis)
 * On Widows (De viduis)
 * On Virgins (De virginibus)
 * On Virginity (De virginitate)
 * Exhortation to Virginity (Exhortatio virginitatis)
 * On the Sacrament of Rebirth, or, On Philosophy (De sacramento regenerationis sive de philosophia, fragments)

Homiletic works on the Old Testament

 * Six Days of Creation (Hexaemeron)
 * On Elijah and Fasting (De Helia et ieiunio)
 * On Jacob and the Happy Life (De Iacob et vita beata)
 * On Abraham (De Abraham)
 * On Cain and Abel (De Cain et Abel)
 * On Joseph (De Ioseph)
 * On Isaac, or The Soul (De Isaac vel anima)
 * On Noah (De Noe)
 * On the Prayer of Job and David (De interpellatione Iob et David)
 * On the Patriarchs (De patriarchis)
 * On Tobit (De Tobia)
 * Explanation of the Psalms (Explanatio psalmorum)
 * Commentary on the Symbol (Explanatio symboli)

Funeral orations

 * On the Death of Theodosius (De obitu Theodosii)
 * On the Death of Valentinian (De obitu Valentiniani)
 * On the Decease of His Brother Satyrus (De excessu fratris Satyri)

Letters
91 letters are extant.
 * "Selections from Letters" in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series II

Hymns

 * "Æterne rerum Conditor"
 * "Deus Creator omnium"
 * "Jam surgit hora tertia"
 * "Veni redemptor gentium"

By Ambrosiaster

 * Commentary on St. Paul's Epistles by Ambrosiaster

Hymns

 * "Coeli Deus sanctissime"
 * "Conditor alme siderum"
 * "Jam lucis orto sidere"
 * Te Deum, with Augustine of Hippo
 * "Te lucis ante terminum"

Works about Ambrosius

 * "Ambrose the Bishop," in Lives of Illustrious Men by Jerome, 393.
 * "Ambrose the Bishop," in Lives of Illustrious Men by Jerome, 393.
 * "Ambrose the Bishop," in Lives of Illustrious Men by Jerome, 393.
 * "Ambrose the Bishop," in Lives of Illustrious Men by Jerome, 393.
 * "Ambrose the Bishop," in Lives of Illustrious Men by Jerome, 393.

title: Author:Aurelius Ambrosius


text: Index:Stories by Foreign Authors (German II).djvu


text:
Author:Matthew Parker

Works

 * Bishops' Bible, lead translator and publisher, 1568.

title: Author:Matthew Parker


text: Page:Stories by Foreign Authors (German II).djvu/5


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Page:Stories by Foreign Authors (German II).djvu/4

 STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS

GERMAN II


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Category:MediaWiki namespace templates

Templates intended for use in the MediaWiki: namespace. All these template should be fully and infinitely protected. Any templates they utilise should be the same. Consider whether it is better to use html and div or span within them instead.

title: Category:MediaWiki namespace templates


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text:
Author:Constantin James

Works

 * On Darwinism, or the Ape Man (1877)

title: Author:Constantin James


text:
Page:The Necessity of Atheism (Brooks).djvu/163

Rh Noab Porter, president of Yale College, and most bitterly by the Rev. Dr. Hodge and the Rev. Dr. Duffield, both leading authorities at Princeton University.

Fundamentalism in the United States furnished the spectacle of the trial, in 1925, of a school teacher named Scopes, for teaching the theory of evolution. Dayton, Tennessee, became the laughingstock of the educated world, and the derision with which this effort to obstruct knowledge at this late date was met with by the comments of the press in this country and abroad is at least encouraging. But it is an excellent example of what effect religious obscurantism may exert in backward sections of our country:

Dr. Max Carl Otto, considering the implications of evolution, calls attention to the following: "Take the evolution of living forms. The more we learn about biological history the clearer it becomes that the process has been, from the human point of view, incredibly bungling and wasteful. There have been futile experiments without number; highly successful achievements have been thrown aside; one type of life after another has arisen and has pushed up a blind alley to extinction. If there is a God whose method has been Evolution, then seemingly his slogan was 'We'll fight it out along this line if it takes a billennium' but, unlike Grant, he has always surrendered. In this maelstrom, the human species, as Thomas Huxley said 'plashed and floundered amid the general stream of evolution, keeping its head above water as best it might, and thinking neither of whence nor whither.' Many volumes have been written to give a purposive interpretation of the rise and evolutionary ramifications of living forms. The course of evolution itself is their refutation."

When the Churches could no longer ignore the rising tide of secular opinion, they resorted to compromise and


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 orders the officers of the India House to provide Magellan with five ships, crews, provisions, etc., according to the memorial which is signed by our chancellor of Bargonha and by the Archbishop of Rosano and Bishop of Burgos; and bids them use all dispatch.

Another royal letter, dated Aranda, 17th of April, 1518, to Magellan and Ruy Faleiro, says that if, after they shall have sailed, either or both of them should die, and that they should have given to the people in the fleet instructions and orders which should be necessary for the discovery; and if they, profiting by them, should discover the isles and parts which they were going to discover, then their heirs and successors should enjoy the favours and privileges contained in the said capitulations.

The document then states that Magellan and Ruy Faleiro having presented the capitulations and letters and royal orders of his highness to the said judges, they summoned and required them to fulfil them according to their contents, and they requested this in the presence of the witnesses, Francisco de Santa Cruz, alguazil Lorenzo Pinelo, and Francisco de Collantes, porter of the Audiencia of the said House. Then the judges took the letters in their hands, and kissed them, and put them on their heads, as the orders of their king, and natural sovereign, whom may God suffer to live and reign many years; and they would answer more at length in complying with the orders. Witnesses the above-named.

After that, on Monday, at the Audiencia de la Nona, on the thirty-first day of May of 1518, the said judges,


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162 called to their aid a certain number of intellectually dishonest scientists. The attempt to harmonize Christianity and Evolution can only be accounted for in terms of either dishonesty or stupidity.

"And that is true of the whole range of science. Science is, in fact, atheistic or nothing. It knows nothing of God, it does not bother about God, its triumphs are achieved by leaving God out of account." (C. Cohen.)

What has heretofore been mentioned is but a mere trifle when one considers the vast number of similar incidents in which religion has played the role of barrier to progress. These examples, though few, are sufficient to impress the mind of any clear-minded, intelligent individual with the conviction, in spite of all the sophistry and casuistry of the ecclesiastical apologies, that progress in this world has taken place in direct proportion to the degree that the mind of man has liberated itself from the control of theology and the myth of religion.


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 Dr. Sancho de Matienzo and the contador Juan Lopez de Ricalde, appeared before me, the said Juan Gutierrez Calderon, the above-mentioned clerk and notary, and presented an answer signed with their names to the presentation made by the Portuguese captains of the royal orders and letters. And this reply is as follows.

The said judges state, in reply, that the king's letters order them to provide five ships, and men and provisions as may be necessary, in conformity with a memorial which the captains bring, signed by the great Chancellor of Burgundy and by the very Reverend Archbishop of Rosano and Bishop of Burgos, which said memorial up to this time has not been shown to us, and without it we cannot undertake anything; so let his Highness send us orders according to that the said despatch signed, as has been said, by the chancellor and bishop; and we are ready to fulfil the orders which his Highness sends, having at the time moneys of his Highness in our power. This they said, and gave as their answers, and signed it with their names, Doctor Matienzo, Juan Lopez de Ricalde.

Magellan and Ruy Faleiro asked from Juan Gutierres Calderon, Clerk and Notary Public, a certificate and legalised copy of what had passed for the conservation of their rights, which he accordingly gave him, dated on the said day and month (31st May) of 1518.

The letter, the text of which is given in the Appendix No., the original of which appears to have fallen into the hands of the Portuguese at the Moluccas, is as follows:


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 The King:

Fernando de Magallam̄s and Ruy Faleiro, Knights of the Order of St. James, our captains-general of the fleet, which we command to be equipped to go to discover, and the other separate captains of the said fleet, and pilots, masters, quarter-masters, and seamen of the said fleet: Inasmuch as I know for certain, according to the much information which I have obtained from persons who have seen it by experience, that there are spices in the islands of Maluco; and, chiefly, you are going to seek them with this said fleet, and my will is that you should straightway follow the voyage to the said islands in the form and guise which I have said and commanded to you, the said Ferdinand de Magallam̄s; moreover, I command you all and each one of you that in the navigation of the said voyage you follow the opinion and determination of the said Ferdinand de Magallam̄s, in order that first and foremost, before any other part, you should go to the said islands of Maluco, without there being any shortcoming in this, because thus it is fitting for our service, and after this done, the rest that may be convenient may be sought for according to what you have been commanded, and one and all neither do nor let them do anything else in anywise, under pain of losing their goods and their persons, at our discretion. Done in Barcelona, nineteenth day of April, year of one thousand five hundred and nineteen.

I, the King.

By order of the King,

undefined

(Docket).—In order that those of the fleet may follow the opinion and determination of Magallam̄s, in order that first and before anything else they go to the spices.


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Anglo-Saxon Riddles of the Exeter Book/Annotated/Quondam First Riddle

This poem occupies the lower half of folio 100 b and the first lines of 101 a. It is preceded by miscellaneous poems and followed by the first batch of Riddles. As Riddles 1, 2, 3 invite the reader to solve them and this poem does not, as the structure of the poem is quite unlike that of the Riddles, it is rather strange that it should ever have been thought to be a riddle. This is the first edition of the Riddles in which this interesting interloper does not take its place with the poems which follow it in the Codex.

The text is as follows:

The meaning of āþecgan and dogode is unknown, earne may be from earu = quick, active, or from earh = cowardly. Wulf may be the name of some particular person, or perhaps means wolf. Þrēat sometimes means a throng, sometimes a calamity. Bōgum may mean with boughs, or with arms, and wīdlāstum may be either noun or adjective. The following translation must therefore be regarded as tentative:

Ll. 16, 17 above are so punctuated as to give some intelligible meaning; but the meaning, and therefore the punctuation, is quite uncertain. “Bears” and “tears” may be future tense.

This poem being taken to be a Riddle, solutions had to be found for it. In 1857 Leo, by changing words, meanings, and grammar (lēodum to leoðum and so forth), arrived at this translation of lines 1, 2:

 * My limbs are as one assigns to them a meaning,
 * This they will reveal when the meaning gathers itself together.

That is to say that the parts of the riddle may receive different names, but when they are juxtaposed the true meaning will be apparent: the riddle is a charade. Leo then finds that cyn or cyne may be represented by cēne, by cœ̄n, or by cēn. And wæl(h)rēowe = cēne (bold); so too wuda = cēn (a torch) which is made of split wood. A woman speaks in this poem; woman = cwēn or in Northumbrian cœ̄n (a more than doubtful form). The word wulf occurs frequently in the poem. Let Eadwacer represent the vowel e, translate uncerne earne “of us two,” and lines 16, 17 by “Dost thou hear? A wolf bears Eadwacer, the child of us two, to the wood.” Nothing now remains to be proved: Cyn + e + wulf is the meaning gathered together. Mor ingenuity explains the islands as syllables, bōgum as whatever parts the syllables. The last lines signify that, as cēne and cœ̄n are different, they can easily be sundered.

Cynewulf’s authorship of this charade being then admitted by everyone, it was not strange that Dietrich should find that the Latin Riddle and the last Riddle referred to Cynewulf too.

In 1869 Rieger published a short re-reading of the quondam First Riddle with comments on Leo’s explanation. He retained lēodum mīnum, which he explained as cynn (observing that cynn is not cyne); he read cœ̄ne = cwēne instead of cœ̄n = cwēn. In short he agreed with Leo’s conclusion though disapproving of his phonology.

Trautmann in 1883 utterly rejected Leo’s text, translation, and explanation. He declared that there are no syllabic charades in Old English literature, and that Leo had made this one only by outrageous liberties with text and lexicon. Cynewulf belonged to the same class of names as Cyneheard and Cyneweard; Cyne- is the syllable seen in cyne-stōl. The long vowels in Cēnewulf, Cœ̄newulf would have no likeness, in the native and contemporary ear, to Cyne-. The explanations offered by Leo of the island passage are quite impossible, and those of line 16, 17 altogether too far-fetched. Leo’s solution is harder than the riddle, and it is time that it was done away with.

Trautmann’s own solution is Riddle, and he says that, just as there can be no doubt Leo is wrong, so there can be no doubt Trautmann is right. The wolf is the solver, the speaker is the riddle; being on different islands means that the solver cannot get at the riddle; the wæl(h)rēowe weras are other guessers. As the solver makes wandering guesses the riddle sits weeping, but she is both glad and sorry when she is embraced, that is, guessed. The rare visits of the solver are his rare good guesses. When the solver drags the whelp to the wood the riddle is solved. Trautmann makes no attempt to explain Eadwacer. Lines 18, 19 signify that the riddle and solution, never united, may easily be sundered; but the answer brings riddle and guesser together. The last Riddle he also solved as The Riddle.

At the time of its publication, Trautmann’s demolition of Leo’s work did not receive its fair share of consideration, since almost all scholars were too thoroughly committed to the Cynewulfian theory. The Riddle solution was almost unanimously rejected. Professor Henry Morley was then bringing out his English Writers; while accepting Trautmann’s destructive result, he rejected his constructive attempt, and suggested that the real solution was the Christian Preacher. A review of Morley’s second volume by Henry Bradley in the Academy for March 24, 1888, opened an entirely new chapter in the history of the poem. “I may as well state my own view, which is that the so-called riddle is not a riddle at all, but a fragment of a dramatic soliloquy, like Deor and The Wife’s Complaint, to the latter of which it bears, both in motive and in treatment, a strong resemblance.” The speaker is a woman—the grammar shows this—probably a captive in a foreign land, Wulf is her outlaw lover, Eadwacer is her “tyrant husband.”  Bradley renders on þrēat cuman “come to want,” āþecgan “give food to,” earne “cowardly.”

Gollancz approved of Bradley’s theory, with modifications. Herzfeld adduced further considerations in its favour, taking lines 16 and 17 to mean that Wulf drags away as a hostage the child of Eadwacer and the lady, while she herself is held in custody by her husband.

In 1891 Sievers, with more thorough and accurate scholarship than Trautmann had displayed in 1883, denied the equivalence of cyni, cœ̄ni, cē, cwœ̄n (giving these normal Early Northumbrian forms). Cook in 1900 sums up thus: “Cynewulf’s name is not found in the First Riddle, which in all probability is not a riddle at all. Hence there is no ground for assuming that either Riddle 86 [the Latin riddle] or Riddle 89 [i.e. 93] is intended to denote Cynewulf. There is therefore nothing in any of the Riddles to indicate that Cynewulf was a wandering minstrel. Finally, the Riddles, on the best authority (Sievers), probably antedate Cynewulf.”

In 1902 a careful study of the poem was made by W. W. Lawrence and W. H. Schofield. Lawrence declared that the poem is a translation from Old Norse. Lines 3, 8, 17, 19 are very short, and hint at a strophic structure, as the repetition of lines 2 and 3 later in the poem appears to indicate a refrain. Some of the difficult phrases in the poem (on þrēat cymeð, tō þon) seem like Norse idioms. The alliteration is weak, as might be expected in a translation.

Schofield sought to connect the poem with Teutonic legend. He calls it ”Signy’s Lament,” and declares that it represents a phase of the Völsungasaga. Signy, the daughter of Volsung, has married Siggeir, who treacherously slays Volsung and all his sons except Siegmund, who escapes and lives in the forest. Siegmund and Signy plot to avenge the death of their father and brothers. Signy’s two sons by Siggeir are in turn tested by Siegmund, but failing courage are slain by him. But a boy born to Siegmund by Signy, and thus of Volsung blood on both sides, is bold enough to carry the revenge through. Signy dies with Siggeir, not caring for life as long as the task of the blood-feud is accomplished. (In after days Siegmund, with his son and nephew Sinfjötli, performed many exploits: their names were know to the English, see ll. 875 ff. of Bēowulf.) In our poem Signy speaks, hinting at her connection with Siegmund in ll. 11–12, the removal of her cowardly offspring in ll. 16 and 17, her loathed union with Siggeir in ll. 18 and 19. ‘Wulf’ is a word well applied to Siegmund both as outlaw and as head of the Wolfing clan. The crux is Eadwacer. Shofield supposes an Old Norse auðvakr = “the very vigilant one,” not a proper noun.

Bradley retorts that auðvakr is not Old Norse, but new American of Schofield’s own coinage, and finds Eadwacer a good English name borne by at least two historical Englishmen. Gollancz declares that Eadwacer is Odoacer (in the Hildebrandslied etc.), and that Wulf applies better to Theodoric than to Siegmund. In 1907 Imelmann elaborately connected our poem with the Odoacer cycle. It seems that Bradley’s view is the right one in essentials: the poem is the monologue of a woman bewailing her absent lover who is in danger. Whether it may be assigned to a Teutonic legend, and if so to which, there seems to be as yet no sufficient evidence to show.

It will be seen (section on Authorship) that Tupper in his edition of the Riddles (1910) denied Cynewulf’s authorship; he also gave a general adhesion to the views expressed above. “The First Riddle is thus unquestionably a lyrical monologue,” he wrote.

By the end of the year (see Modern Language Notes, December, 1910) he had made a complete volte-face: “Now all is changed.” He revived, with the utmost confidence, the theory that the quondam First Riddle is a cryptogram, giving the name of Cynewulf in the form Cynwulf (as in the Crist and the Fates of the Apostles). Apparently the quodnam First Riddle is a combination of acrostic and charade after “the Icelandic method.” Runes are employed, not the runes themselves but their names, or if not their names synonyms for their names, with a little further rectification when necessary. Everything means something else. The first word, Lēodum = Cyn; two or three other words also = Cyn. In l. 5 ēg- = ēa (which is not true) = Lagu, the name of the L-rune. In l. 11 bōg = boga (which is not true) = Yr, one name for the Y-rune. The letters L and Y, essential to the acrostic, are given in this way only. The student must be referred to Tupper’s article. But a few things have to be said. The Icelandic rīmur, here supposed to be imitated, are as dreary as Chaos, but they are consistent. They pursue one method consistently. As Tupper says, “In the Icelandic rīmur the synonyms of the runes fill the text to the exclusion of other ideas.” The first line, “It is for my people as if one should give them treasure,” might, on the Icelandic method, stand for the word king. Tupper admits that there is no attempt at anything of the kind in the English. That is to say, we are asked to believe that the sole and solitary instance (for that we offer humble thanks) in our language of a charade and acrostic imitated from the Icelandic departs completely from the traditional method. Then who could possibly know how to interpret it? Even the ingenious, original Cynewulf had to be intelligible. Lēodum is interpreted Cyn; but Tupper gives no example of a riddle or acrostic in Icelandic or Latin, where the hidden word is not defined but has to be guessed from a case of a similar word. In the Icelandic, every line has a pointed reference, in one way or another, to the hidden meaning: what point is there in our refrain, ‘Ungelīc is ūs’? Lastly, Cynewulf’s other signatures are not particularly difficult to read; why should he have made this riddle undecipherable, one would imagine, even to a man of his own day?

It must be added that Tupper proceeds to restore the great majority of the riddles to Cynewulf. “The proper interpretation of the ‘Cynewulf’ cryptogram shifts the burden of proof to the shoulders of him who endeavours to show that this collection of poems, in the main homogeneous, was not (with a few exceptions) the work of Cynewulf. … The undoubted variations in metre, language and style from the usage in the generally accepted poems of Cynewulf are after all too slight to avail against the explicit evidence of the First Riddle.”


text:
Act of Sovereignty delivered to Captain W. B. Orne by Colonel David Jewett, Falkland Islands, 1820

"National Frigate, Heroina, Port Soledad, 9th Nov., 1820.

"SIR, I have the honor to inform you of my arrival at this Port, to take possession of these Islands, in the name of the Supreme Government of The United Provinces of South America.

"This ceremony was publicly performed on the 6th day of this present November, and the National Standard hoisted at the Fort, under a Salute from this Frigate, in the presence of several Citizens of The United States, and Subjects of Great Britain.

"I am, &c.

 * "D. JEWETT

 * "Colonel of the Marine of the United Provinces of South America,
 * Commander of the Frigate Heroina.


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Deffell, George Hibbert


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Deighton, Edward


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/de Labilliere, Francis Peter


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Deniehy, Daniel Henry


text: The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Denison, Major-General Sir William Thomas


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Author:Ambroise Paré

Works

 * The Workes of That Famous Chirurgion Ambrose Parey (1649)

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Letter of Alvaro da Costa, giving an Account to the King Dom Manuel of what passed with the King of Castile, to dissuade him from the discovery which he determined to order the execution of, by Fernan de Magalhaes.

Torre do Tombo. Gav. 18, Maço 8, No. 38.

Sire,

With respect to the business of Fernam de Magalhaes, I have done and laboured very much, as God knows, as I have written to you at length; and now, Xebres being ill, I have spoken on this matter very firmly to the king, laying before him all the objections that there were in it, and besides other matters, setting forth how ill-seeming and unusual a matter it was for a king to receive the vassals of another king his friend, against his will; which was a thing which was not usual amongst knights, and was held to be a great fault, and a very ill-looking thing: also that I had just before offered to him in Valladolid the services of your royal self, and kingdom and lordships, while he was already receiving these men against your pleasure; and I begged him to look well that this was not a time for causing discontent to your Highness, especially in a matter of such little importance to him, and of such little certainty, and that he had many vassals and men for making discoveries when the time came, without making use of those who came away from your Highness discontented, and that your Highness could not fail to suspect that these men would labour more to do you a dis-service than for anything else; and that his Highness had now so much to do with discovering his own kingdoms and lordships, and settling them, that such novelties ought hardly to come into his recollection, from which scandals might follow, and other things which might well be dispensed with. I also laid before him


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 There was about 270 loads of timber on board. The chain parted about 7.30 pm on the B ? The afternoon of the day the ship came ashore was very stormy In the afternoon the wind was N.E. with heavy squalls. The ship was 23 years old that been recently slipped an newly coppered at Port Adelaide


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1533.] like angels. He told me he could make rings of gold, to obtain favour of great men; and said that my Lord Cardinal had such; and promised my said brother and me, either of us, one of them; and also he showed me a round thing like a ball of crystal.

'He said that if the King's Grace went over to France [the Calais visit of October, 1533], his Grace should marry my Lady Marchioness of Pembroke before that his Highness returned again; and that it would be dangerous to his Grace, and to the most part of the noblemen that should go with him; saying also that he had written to one of the King's council to advise his Highness not to go over, for if he did, it should not be for his Grace's profit.'

The wizard next pretended that he had seen a vision of a certain room in a tower, in which a spirit had appeared with a coat of arms in his hand, and had 'delivered the same to Sir William Neville.' The arms being described as those of the Warwick family, Sir William, his brother, and Jones rode down from Oxford to Warwick, where they went over the castle. The wizard professed to recognize in a turret chamber the room in which he had seen the spirit, and he prophesied that Sir William should recover the earldom, the long- coveted prize of all the Neville family.

On their return to Oxford, Jones, continues Sir William, said further, 'That there should be a field in the north about se'nnight before Christmas, in which my Lord my brother [Lord Latimer] should be slain; the realm should be long without a king; and much robbery


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72 would be within the realm, specially of abbeys and religious houses, and of rich men, as merchants, graziers, and others; so that, if I would, he at that time would advise me to find the means to enter into the said castle for mine own safeguard, and divers persons would resort unto me. None of Cadicallader's blood, he told me, should reign more than twenty-four years; and also that Prince Edward [son of Henry VI. and Margaret of Anjou, killed at Tewkesbury], had issue a son which was conveyed over sea; and there had issue a son which was yet alive, either in Saxony or Almayne; and that either he or the King of Scots should reign next after the King's Grace that now is. To all which I answered,' Sir William concluded, 'that there is nothing which the will of God is that a man shall obtain, but that he of his goodness will put in his mind the way whereby he shall come by it; and that surely I had no mind to follow any such fashion; and that, also, the late Duke of Buckingham and others had cast themselves away by too much trust in prophecies, and other jeoparding of themselves, and therefore I would in no wise follow any such way. He answered, if I would not, it would be long ere I obtained it. Then I said I believed that well, and if it never came, I trusted to God to live well enough.'

Sir George Neville confirmed generally his brother's story, protesting that they had never intended treason,


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 more than fomare? kept the topsaid set 8.30 ? the pumps were primed 4 inches n the well?. There were 90 fathoms of chain both? a riding tackle on. I do not think it would have been advisable to have had 2 anchors down as she had the largest down at fre??. The firtst chain was about a s much to ? . The chain must have parted in a defective place twice the casualty here notice another flaw in the chain at the wide. The chain has recently with the ship 1 1/2 years ago. I chose the anchor w? 15 ? The same chain held the ship in a gale at Champion Bay. ? went short 4 fathoms where she parted I consider the casualty arose from the evidence of the ? ?. I never left the deck from 1.30 till 11 p.m  The ship passed over a bank of rocks and now lays in sand and rocks. The second chain is a 7/8 inch one and the anchor about 13 cwt. The second anchor was let go within 5 minutes after the first chain parted.

sworn 18/5 G.Harris            Geo ?ollen  Mate "Geffrard"

By oath:  I am second mate of the "Geffrard" I was on board when the ship came ashore  The chain parted about 7.30 pm I was on deck with the mate winching ? the ship and ? I ? It was at the climax of the storm when the chain parted The ship took a shu? and the sea struck her on the bow when she parted The mate and myself then ran and let go the second anchor the starboard one. It took about 10 minutes to pay out the J.G. Bussell


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1533.] and that 'at no time had he been of counsel' when any treason was thought of.

The wizard himself was next sent for. The prophecies about the King he denied wholly. He admitted that he had seen an angel in a dream giving Sir William Neville the shield of the earldom in Warwick Castle, and that he had accompanied the two brothers to Warwick, to examine the tower. Beyond that, he said that he knew nothing either of them or of their intentions. He declared himself a good subject, and he would 'jeopard his life' to make the philosopher's stone for the King in twelve months if the King pleased to command him. He desired 'no longer space than twelve months upon silver and twelve and a half upon gold;' to be kept in prison till he had done it; and it would be 'better to the King's Grace than a thousand men.'

The result of these examinations does not appear, except it be that the Nevilles were dismissed without punishment; and the story itself may be thought too trifling to have deserved a grave notice. I see in it, however, an illustration very notice- worthy of the temper which was working in the country. The suspicion of treason in the Neville family may not have been confirmed, although we see them casting longing looks on the lost inheritance of Warwick; but their confessions betray the visions of impending change, anarchy, confusion, which were haunting the popular imagination.


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74 A craving after prophecies, a restless eagerness to search into the future by abnormal means, had infected all ranks from the highest to the lowest; and such symptoms, when they appear, are a sure evidence of approaching disorder, for they are an evidence of a present madness which has brought down wisdom to a common level with folly. At such times, the idlest fancy is more potent with the mind than the soundest arguments of reason. The understanding abdicates its functions; and men are given over, as if by magic, to the enchantments of insanity.

Phenomena of this eccentric kind always accompany periods of intellectual change. Most men live and think by habit; and when habit fails them, they are like unskilful sailors who have lost the landmarks of their course, and have no compass and no celestial charts by which to steer. In the years which preceded the French Revolution, Cagliostro was the companion of princes—at the dissolution of paganism the practisers of curious arts, the witches and the necromancers,, were the sole objects of reverence in the Roman world;—and so, before the Reformation, archbishops and cardinals saw an inspired prophetess in a Kentish servant girl; Oxford heads of colleges sought out heretics with the help of astrology; Anne Boleyn blessed a basin of rings, her royal fingers pouring such virtue into the metal that no disorder could resist it; Wolsey had a magic crystal; and Cromwell, while in Wolsey's household, 'did


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 1533.] haunt to the company of a wizard.' These things were the counterpart of a religion which taught that slips of paper, duly paid for, could secure indemnity for sin. It was well for England that the chief captain at least was proof against the epidemic—no random scandal seems ever to have whispered that such delusions had touched the mind of the King.

While the Grovernment were prosecuting these inquiries at home, the law at the Vatican had run its course; November passed, and as no submission had arrived, the sentence of the 12th of July came into force, and the King, the Queen, and the Archbishop of Canterbury were declared to have incurred the threatened censures.

The privy council met on the 2nd of December, and it was determined in consequence that copies of the 'Act of Appeals,' and of the King's 'provocation' to a general council, should be fixed without delay on every church door in England. Protests were at the same time to be drawn up and sent into Flanders, and to the other Courts in Europe, 'to the intent the falsehood and injustice of the Bishop of Rome might appear to all the world.' The defences of the country were to be looked to; and 'spies' to be sent into Scotland to see 'what they intended there,' 'and whether they would confeder themselves with any outward princes.' Finally, it was


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76 proposed that the attempt to form an alliance with the Lutheran powers should be renewed on a larger scale; that certain discreet and grave persons should be appointed to conclude 'some league or amity with the princes of Germany'—'that is to say, the King of Poland, the King of Hungary, the Duke of Saxony, the Duke of Bavaria, the Duke of Brandenburg, the Landgrave of Hesse, and other potentates.' Vaughan's mission had been merely tentative, and had failed. Yet the offer of a league, offensive and defensive, the immediate and avowed object of which was a general council at which the Protestants should be represented, might easily succeed where vague offers of amity had come to nothing. The formation of a Protestant alliance, however, would have been equivalent to a declaration of war against Catholic Europe; and it was a step which could not be taken, consistently with the treaty of Calais, without first communicating with Francis.

Henry, therefore, by the advice of the council, wrote a despatch to Sir John Wallop, the ambassador at Paris, which was to be laid before the French Court. He explained the circumstances in which he was placed, with the suggestion which the council had made to him. He gave a list of the princes with whom he had been desired by his ministers to connect himself—and the object was


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 the 45 fathoms when it parted. She struck a few minutes after the second chain parted. Sail was made after the second chain parted. She was working inwards till about 10 or 11 o'clock. I think the first chain was quite enough to hold her all hands were on deck. I don't think anything else could have been done to save the ship. The wind was from the north east. I can't say the reading of the barrometer. When she parted she struck aft first. I was twice washed oft by the seas shipped.

Charles Elg

Sworn before us 21 June 1875

J. Harris

Bussell JP


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 how ill this appeared in the year and period of the marriage, and increase of family duty and affection, and that it seemed to me that your Highness would feel deeply the knowledge that these men asked his leave to return, and that he did not give it; which would be two evils, the receiving them against your will, and the retaining them against their own wills: and I begged him on account of what was fitting for his service, and for that of your Highness that of two things he should do one, either give them leave to go, or lay aside this business for this year, by which much would not be lost, and such means might be taken that he might be served without your Highness receiving displeasure from the manner in which this should be done.

He, Sire, remained so surprised at what I said to him, that I was amazed; and he replied to me with the best words in the world, and that on no account did he desire that anything should be done, by which your Highness should be displeased, and many other good words; and he told me to speak to the Cardinal, and to relate everything to him. I, Sire, had already talked it all well over with the Cardinal, who is the best thing here, and this business does not seem good to him, and he promised me to labour as much as he could to avoid speaking to the king; and for this purpose they summoned the Bishop of Burgos, who is the person who upholds this business, and so two of the Council again made the king believe that in this he was not in fault towards your Highness, because he was not sending to make discoveries except within his limit, and very far off from the affairs of your Highness; and that your Highness ought not to take it ill that he made use of two of your vassals, men of little substance, while your Highness was making use of the services of many natives of Castile; and they alleged many other arguments: lastly, the Cardinal told me that the Bishop and those men used so much urgency in this, that at present the king could not take any other determination.

As long as Xebres was well I continued to set this


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1533.] nothing less than a coalition of Northern Europe. He recapitulated the injuries which he had received from the Pope, who at length was studying 'to subvert the rest and peace of the realm; ' 'yea, and so much as in him was, utterly to destroy the same.' The nobles and council, he said, for their own sake as well as for the sake of the kingdom, had entreated him to put an end, once for all, to the Pope's usurpation; and to invite the Protestant princes, for the universal weal of Christendom, to unite in a common alliance. In his present situation he was inclined to act upon this advice. 'As concerning his own realm, he had already taken such order with his nobles and subjects, as he would shortly be able to give to the Pope such a buffet as he never had heretofore;' but as a German alliance was a matter of great weight and importance, 'although,' he concluded, 'we consider it to be right expedient to set forth the same with all diligence, yet we intend nothing to do therein without making our good brother first privy thereunto. And for this cause and consideration only, you may say that we have at this time addressed these letters unto you, commanding you to declare our said purpose unto our good brother, and to require of him on our behalf his good address and best advice. Of his answer we require you to advertise us with all diligence, for according thereunto we intend to attemper our proceedings. We have lately had advertisements how that our said good brother should, by the labour of divers affectionate Papists, be minded to set forth


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78 with his clergy in advancement of the Pope and his desires. This we cannot believe that he will do.'

The meaning of this letter lies upon the surface. If the European powers were determined to leave him no alternative, the King was prepared to ally himself with the Lutherans. But however he might profess to desire that alliance, it was evident that he would prefer, if possible, a less extreme resource. The Pope had ceased to be an object of concern to him; but he could not contemplate, without extreme unwillingness, a separation from the orderly Governments who professed the Catholic faith. The Pope had injured him; Francis had deceived him; they had tempted his patience because they knew his disposition. The limit of endurance had been reached at length; yet, on the verge of the concluding rupture, he turned once more, as if to offer a last opportunity of peace.

The reply of Francis was an immediate mission of the Bishop of Bayonne (now Bishop of Paris), first into England, and from England to Rome, where he was to endeavour, to the best of his ability, to seam together the already gaping rent in the Church with fair words—a hopeless task—the results of which, however, were unexpectedly considerable, as will be presently seen.

Meanwhile, on the side of Flanders, the atmosphere was dubious and menacing. The refugee friars, who were reported to be well supplied with money from England, were labouring to exasperate the people,


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1533.] Father Peto especially distinguisliing himself upon this service. The English ambassador, Sir John Hacket, still remained at Brussels, and the two Governments were formally at peace; but when Hacket required the Queen-regent to forbid the publication of the brief of July in the Netherlands, he was met with a positive refusal. 'M. Ambassador,' she said, 'the Emperor, the King of Hungary, the Queen of France, the King of Portugal, and I, understand what are the rights of our aunt—our duty is to her—and such letters of the Pope as come hither in her favour we shall obey. Your master has no right to complain either of the Emperor or of myself, if we support our aunt in a just cause.' At the same time, formal complaints were made by Charles of the personal treatment of Queen Catherine, and the clouds appeared to be gathering for a storm. Yet here, too, there was an evident shrinking from extremities. A Welsh gentleman had been at Brussels, to offer his services against Henry, and had met with apparent coldness. Sir John Hacket wrote, on the 15th of December, that he was assured by


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80 well-informed persons, that so long as Charles lived, he would never be the first to begin a war with England, 'which would rebound to the destruction of the Low Countries.' A week later, when the Queen-regent was suffering from an alarming illness, he said it was reported that, should she die, Catherine or Mary, if either of them was allowed to leave England, would be held 'meet to have governance of the Low Countries.' This was a generous step, if the Emperor seriously contemplated it. The failure of the Nun of Kent had perhaps taught him that there was no present prospect of a successful insurrection. In his conduct towards England, he was seemingly governing himself by the prospect which might open for a successful attack upon it. If occasion offered to strike the Government in connection with an efficient Catholic party in the nation itself, he would not fail to avail himself of it. Otherwise, he would perhaps content himself with an attitude of inactive menace; unless menaced himself by a Protestant confederation.

Amidst these uneasy symptoms at home and abroad, Parliament re-assembled on the 15th of January. It was a changed England since these


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afternoon of the blazing day passed drowsily. Lying close together on the beach, Siegmund and Helena let the day exhale its hours like perfume, unperceived. Siegmund slept, a light evanescent sleep irised with dreams and with suffering: nothing definite, the colour of dreams without shape. Helena, as usual, retained her consciousness much more clearly. She watched the far-off floating of ships, and the near wading of children through the surf. Endless trains of thought, like little waves, rippled forward and broke on the shore of her drowsiness. But each thought-ripple, though it ran lightly, was tinged with copper-coloured gleams as from a lurid sunset. Helena felt that the sun was setting on her and Siegmund. The hour was too composed, spell-bound, for grief or anxiety or even for close perception. She was merely aware that the sun was wheeling down, tangling Siegmund and her in the traces, like overthrown charioteers. So the hours passed.

After tea they went eastwards on the downs. Siegmund was animated, so that Helena caught his mood. It was very rare that they spoke of the time preceding their acquaintance. Helena knew little or nothing of Siegmund’s life up to the age of thirty, whilst he had never learned anything concerning her


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Rh


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124 childhood. Somehow she did not encourage him to self-discovery. To-day, however, the painful need of lovers for self-revelation took hold on him.

“It is awfully funny,” he said. “I was so gone on Beatrice when I married her. She had only just come back from Egypt. Her father was an army officer, a very handsome man, and, I believe, a bit of a rake. Beatrice is really well connected, you know. But old FitzHerbert ran through all his money, and through everything else. He was too hot for the rest of the family, so they dropped him altogether.

“He came to live at Peckham when I was sixteen. I had just left school, and was to go into father’s business. Mrs. FitzHerbert left cards, and very soon we were acquainted. Beatrice had been a good time in a French convent school. She had only knocked about with the army a little while, but it had brought her out. I remember I thought she was miles above me—which she was. She wasn’t bad-looking, either, and you know men all like her. I bet she’d marry again, in spite of the children.

“At first I fluttered round her. I remember I’d got a little, silky moustache. They all said I looked older than sixteen. At that time I was mad on the violin, and she played rather well. Then FitzHerbert went off abroad somewhere, so Beatrice and her mother half lived at our house. The mother was an invalid.

“I remember I nearly stood on my head one day. The conservatory opened off the smoking-room, so when I came in the room, I heard my two sisters and Beatrice talking about good-looking men.

“ ‘I consider Bertram will make a handsome man,’ said my younger sister.


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136


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Rh “ ‘He’s got beautiful eyes,’ said my other sister.

“ ‘And a real darling nose and chin!’ cried Beatrice. ‘If only he was more solide! He is like a windmill, all limbs.’

“ ‘He will fill out. Remember, he’s not quite seventeen,’ said my elder sister.

“ ‘Ah, he is doux—he is câlin,’ said Beatrice.

“ ‘I think he is rather too spoony for his age,’ said my elder sister.

“ ‘But he’s a fine boy for all that. See how thick his knees are,’ my younger sister chimed in.

“ ‘Ah, si, si!’ cried Beatrice.

“I made a row against the door, then walked across.

“ ‘Hello, is somebody in here?’ I said, as I pushed into the little conservatory.

“I looked straight at Beatrice, and she at me. We seemed to have formed an alliance in that look: she was the other half of my consciousness, I of hers. Ha, ha! there were a lot of white narcissus, and little white hyacinths, Roman hyacinths, in the conservatory. I can see them now, great white stars, and tangles of little ones, among a bank of green; and I can recall the keen, fresh scent on the warm air; and the look of Beatrice…her great dark eyes.

“It’s funny, but that Beatrice is as dead—ay, far more dead—than Dante’s. And I am not that young fool, not a bit.

“I was very romantic, fearfully emotional, and the soul of honour. Beatrice said nobody cared a thing about her. FitzHerbert was always jaunting off, the mother was a fretful invalid. So I was seventeen, earning half a guinea a week, and she was eighteen,


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Rh


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126 with no money, when we ran away to Brighton and got married. Poor old Pater, he took it awfully well. I have been a frightful drag on him, you know.

“There’s the romance. I wonder how it will all end.”

Helena laughed, and he did not detect her extreme bitterness of spirit.

They walked on in silence for some time. He was thinking back, before Helena’s day. This left her very much alone, and forced on her the idea that, after all, love, which she chose to consider as single and wonderful a thing in a man’s life as birth, or adolescence, or death, was temporary, and formed only an episode. It was her hour of disillusion.

“Come to think of it,” Siegmund continued, “I have always shirked. Whenever I’ve been in a tight corner I’ve gone to Pater.”

“I think,” she said, “marriage has been a tight corner you couldn’t get out of to go to anybody.”

“Yet I’m here,” he answered simply.

The blood suffused her face and neck.

“And some men would have made a better job of it. When it’s come to sticking out against Beatrice, and sailing the domestic ship in spite of her, I’ve always funked. I tell you I’m something of a moral coward.”

He had her so much on edge she was inclined to answer, “So be it.” Instead, she ran back over her own history: it consisted of petty discords in contemptible surroundings, then of her dreams and fancies, finally—Siegmund.

“In my life,” she said, with the fine, grating discord in her tones, “I might say always, the real life has seemed just outside—brownies running and fairies


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Rh peeping—just beyond the common, ugly place where I am. I seem to have been hedged in by vulgar circumstances, able to glimpse outside now and then, and see the reality.”

“You are so hard to get at,” said Siegmund. “And so scornful of familiar things.”

She smiled, knowing he did not understand. The heat had jaded her, so that physically she was full of discord, of dreariness that set her teeth on edge. Body and soul, she was out of tune.

A warm, noiseless twilight was gathering over the downs and rising darkly from the sea. Fate, with wide wings, was hovering just over her. Fate, ashen grey and black, like a carrion crow, had her in its shadow. Yet Siegmund took no notice. He did not understand. He walked beside her, whistling to himself, which only distressed her the more.

They were alone on the smooth hills to the east. Helena looked at the day melting out of the sky, leaving the permanent structure of the night. It was her turn to suffer the sickening detachment which comes after moments of intense living.

The rosiness died out of the sunset as embers fade into thick ash. In herself, too, the ruddy glow sank and went out. The earth was a cold dead heap, coloured drearily, the sky was dark with flocculent grey ash, and she herself an upright mass of soft ash.

She shuddered slightly with horror. The whole face of things was to her livid and ghastly. Being a moralist rather than an artist, coming of fervent Wesleyan stock, she began to scourge herself. She had done wrong again. Looking back, no one had she touched without hurting. She had a destructive force;


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128 anyone she embraced she injured. Faint voices echoed back from her conscience. The shadows were full of complaint against her. It was all true, she was a harmful force, dragging Fate to petty, mean conclusions.

Life and hope were ash in her mouth. She shuddered with discord. Despair grated between her teeth. This dreariness was worse than any her dreary, lonely life had known. She felt she could bear it no longer.

Siegmund was there. Surely he could help? He would rekindle her. But he was straying ahead, carelessly whistling the Spring Song from Die Walküre. She looked at him, and again shuddered with horror. Was that really Siegmund, that stooping, thick-shouldered, indifferent man? Was that the Siegmund who had seemed to radiate joy into his surroundings, the Siegmund whose coming had always changed the whole weather of her soul? Was that the Siegmund whose touch was keen with bliss for her, whose face was a panorama of passing God? She looked at him again. His radiance was gone, his aura had ceased. She saw him a stooping man, past the buoyancy of youth, walking and whistling rather stupidly—in short, something of the “clothed animal on end,” like the rest of men.

She suffered an agony of disillusion. Was this the real Siegmund, and her own only a projection of her soul? She took her breath sharply. Was he the real clay, and that other, her beloved, only the breathing of her soul upon this. There was an awful blank before her.

“Siegmund!” she said in despair.


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title: User:Beeswaxcandle/Sandbox2


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138


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Rh He turned sharply at the sound of her voice. Seeing her face pale and distorted in the twilight, he was filled with dismay. She mutely lifted her arms to him, watching him in despair. Swiftly he took her in his arms, and asked in a troubled voice:

“What is it, dear? Is something wrong?”

His voice was nothing to her—it was stupid. She felt his arms round her, felt her face pressed against the cloth of his coat, against the beating of his heart. What was all this? This was not comfort or love. He was not understanding or helping, only chaining her, hurting. She did not want his brute embrace—she was most utterly alone, gripped so in his arms. If he could not save her from herself, he must leave her free to pant her heart out in free air. The secret thud, thud of his heart, the very self of that animal in him she feared and hated, repulsed her. She struggled to escape.

“What is it? Won’t you tell me what is the matter?” he pleaded.

She began to sob, dry wild sobs, feeling as if she would go mad. He tried to look at her face, for which she hated him. And all the time he held her fast, all the time she was imprisoned in the embrace of this brute, blind creature, whose heart confessed itself in thud, thud, thud.

“Have you heard anything against us? Have I done anything? Have I said anything? Tell me—at any rate tell me, Helena.”

Her sobbing was like the chattering of dry leaves. She grew frantic to be free. Stifled in that prison any longer, she would choke and go mad. His coat chafed her face; as she struggled she could see the strong 9


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130 working of his throat. She fought against him; she struggled in panic to be free.

“Let me go!” she cried. “Let me go! Let me go!” He held her in bewilderment and terror. She thrust her hands in his chest and pushed him apart. Her face, blind to him, was very much distorted by her suffering. She thrust him furiously away with great strength.

His heart stood still with wonder. She broke from him and dropped down, sobbing wildly, in the shelter of the tumuli. She was bunched in a small, shaken heap. Siegmund could not bear it. He went on one knee beside her, trying to take her hand in his, and pleading:

“Only tell me, Helena, what it is. Tell me what it is. At least tell me, Helena; tell me what it is. Oh, but this is dreadful!”

She had turned convulsively from him. She shook herself, as if beside herself, and at last covered her ears with her hands, to shut out this unreasoning pleading of his voice.

Seeing her like this, Siegmund at last gave in. Quite still, he knelt on one knee beside her, staring at the late twilight. The intense silence was crackling with the sound of Helena’s dry, hissing sobs. He remained silenced, stunned by the unnatural conflict. After waiting a while, he put his hand on her. She winced convulsively away.

Then he rose, saying in his heart, “It is enough.” He went behind the small hill, and looked at the night. It was all exposed. He wanted to hide, to cover himself from the openness, and there was not even a bush under which he could find cover.


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Rh He lay down flat on the ground, pressing his face into the wiry turf, trying to hide. Quite stunned, with a death taking place in his soul, he lay still, pressed against the earth. He held his breath for a long time before letting it go, then again he held it. He could scarcely bear, even by breathing, to betray himself. His consciousness was dark.

Helena had sobbed and struggled the life animation back into herself. At length, weary but comfortable, she lay still to rest. Almost she could have gone to sleep. But she grew chilly, and a ground insect tickled her face. Was somebody coming?

It was dark when she rose. Siegmund was not in sight. She tidied herself, and, rather frightened, went to look for him. She saw him like a thick shadow on the earth. Now she was heavy with tears good to shed. She stood in silent sorrow, looking at him.

Suddenly she became aware of someone passing and looking curiously at them.

“Dear!” she said softly, stooping and touching his hair. He began to struggle with himself to respond. At that minute he would rather have died than face anyone. His soul was too much uncovered.

“Dear, someone is looking,” she pleaded.

He drew himself up from cover. But he kept his face averted. They walked on.

“Forgive me, dear,” she said softly.

“Nay, it’s not you,” he answered, and she was silenced. They walked on till the night seemed private. She turned to him, and “Siegmund!” she said, in a voice of great sorrow and pleading.

He took her in his arms, but did not kiss her, though she lifted her face. He put his mouth against her


text: Motif-Index of Folk-Literature/Volume 1/A/700


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Rh throat, below the ear, as she offered it, and stood looking out through the ravel of her hair, dazed, dreamy.

The sea was smoking with darkness under half-luminous heavens. The stars, one after another, were catching alight. Siegmund perceived first one, and then another dimmer one, flicker out in the darkness over the sea. He stood perfectly still, watching them. Gradually he remembered how, in the cathedral, the tapers of the choir-stalls would tremble and set steadily to burn, opening the darkness point after point with yellow drops of flame, as the acolyte touched them, one by one, delicately with his rod. The night was religious, then, with its proper order of service. Day and night had their ritual, and passed in uncouth worship.

Siegmund found himself in an abbey. He looked up the nave of the night, where the sky came down on the sea-like arches, and he watched the stars catch fire. At least it was all sacred, whatever the God might be. Helena herself, the bitter bread, was stuff of the ceremony, which he touched with his lips as part of the service.

He had Helena in his arms, which was sweet company, but in spirit he was quite alone. She would have drawn him back to her, and on her woman’s breast have hidden him from fate, and saved him from searching the unknown. But this night he did not want comfort. If he were “an infant crying in the night,” it was crying that a woman could not still. He was abroad seeking courage and faith for his own soul. He, in loneliness, must search the night for faith.


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Rh “My fate is finely wrought out,” he thought to himself. “Even damnation may be finely imagined for me in the night. I have come so far. Now I must get clarity and courage to follow out the theme. I don’t want to botch and bungle even damnation.”

But he needed to know what was right, what was the proper sequence of his acts. Staring at the darkness, he seemed to feel his course, though he could not see it. He bowed in obedience. The stars seemed to swing softly in token of submission.


text: The Trespasser/Chapter 15

title: The Trespasser/Chapter 15


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Catholic Encyclopedia (1913)/Diocese of Cava and Sarno

Cava and Sarno,. Cava dei Tirreni is a city picturesquely situated in the province of Salerno, in Southern Italy. It was built by the inhabitants of Marina, after the destruction of that city by the Vandals (c. 455). In 980 St. Alferio Pappacarbona, monk of Cluny, withdrew to a deep cleft in Monte Finestre which dominates the city, and became the founder of one of the most celebrated of Italian monasteries. Its abbots received many privileges from the popes, especially from Urban II, who visited the monastery, and from Boniface IX, who in 1394 attached the episcopal dignity to the abbot's office. The cathedral of Cava, famous for its organ, has been since 1513 the principal church of the city. The library of the monastery is very rich in ancient parchments, mostly private in character, written in Greek, Latin, Italian, and Arabic. It has also a beautiful gallery of paintings. Since 1860 the monastery has been one of the "national monuments"; some monks remain as its custodians. There are in Cava a college, gymnasium, and lyceum, in charge of Benedictines. In 1818 the Diocese of Sarno was united to that of Cava. Sarno is a city in the province of Salerno, situated on the river of the same name. It was made an episcopal see in 1066, the first bishop being Riso. Cardinal Sfondrato, Archbishop of Amalfi, was at one time Bishop of Sarno. The united dioceses are immediately subject to the Holy See. They contain a population of 58,200, with 27 parishes, 5 religious houses of men and 7 of women.

U. BENIGNI


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him abstract, withdrawn from her, Helena experienced the dread of losing him. She was in his arms, but his spirit ignored her. That was insufferable to her pride. Yet she dared not disturb him—she was afraid. Bitterly she repented her of the giving way to her revulsion a little space before. Why had she not smothered it and pretended? Why had she, a woman, betrayed herself so flagrantly? Now perhaps she had lost him for good. She was consumed with uneasiness.

At last she drew back from him, held him her mouth to kiss. As he gently, sadly kissed her she pressed him to her bosom. She must get him back, whatever else she lost. She put her hand tenderly on his brow.

“What are you thinking of?” she asked.

“I?” he replied. “I really don’t know. I suppose I was hardly thinking any thing.”

She waited a while, clinging to him, then, finding some difficulty in speech, she asked:

“Was I very cruel, dear?”

It was so unusual to hear her grieved and filled with humility that he drew her close into him.

“It was pretty bad, I suppose,” he replied. “But I should think neither of us could help it.”

She gave a little sob, pressed her face into his chest,