text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/I

NIRVANA IT has often been said that in the final consummation all individual souls merge into the Great Soul, and our students sometimes find it difficult to reconcile this with other statements which seem to imply that the individuality is maintained, in some form or other, even up to the very greatest heights. The fact is that no experience which we can have, and no ideas which we can formulate down here in our physical brain, will at all express the glorious realities of nirvana and the planes beyond it. We know so little of that transcendent glory, and what little we do know can never be put into adequate words. Perhaps, however, it is in a certain sense somewhat misleading to speak of individual souls as merging into the Great Soul. Every monad is fundamentally a spark of the divine triad; he cannot merge into that of which he is already a part. Surely a better explanation of what happens would be to say that as he evolves the spark develops into flame; he becomes more and more conscious of his unity with the divine, and so the LOGOS is able more and more to manifest Himself through him. This much at least I can say, that up to the highest level of consciousness which any of our students have yet attained — up even to what is commonly called nirvana itself, there is no loss of individuality, of the power to think, to plan and to act. Long before that there is an entire loss of the sense of separateness, but that is a very different thing. Sir Edwin Arnold wrote of that beatific condition “the dewdrop slips into the shinning sea.” Those who have passed through that most marvelous of experiences know that, paradoxical as it may seem, the sensation is exactly the reverse, and that a far closer description would be that the ocean had somehow been poured into the drop! That consciousness, wide as the sea, with “its centre everywhere and its circumference nowhere,” is a great and glorious fact; but when a man attains it, it seems to him that his consciousness has widened to take in all that, not that he is merged into something else. And he is right, for that which he had ignorantly supposed to be his consciousness was never his at all, but only the shining of the divine power and wisdom and love through him, and he is now at last beginning to realize that stupendous fact. The truth is that what is commonly understood by individuality is a delusion and has never existed, but all that is best and noblest in that conception is maintained up to adeptship and far beyond, even into the realm of the great Planetary Spirits, for They are assuredly individuals, though mighty beyond our feeble powers of conception. Even though the attempt be foredoomed to failure, let me endeavour to give some slight idea of an experience which some of us once had in connection with this lofty plane. Before we ourselves by our own efforts were able to touch it, a Master, for certain purposes of His own, enfolded us in His higher aura, and enabled us through Him to know something of glories of nirvana. Try to imagine the whole universe filled with and consisting of an immense torrent of living light, and in it a vividness of life and an intensity of bliss altogether beyond all description, a hundred thousand times beyond the greatest bliss of heaven. At first we feel nothing but the bliss; we see nothing but the intensity of the light; but gradually we begin to realize that even in this dazzling brightness there are brighter spots — nuclei, as it were — which are built of the light because there is nothing but the light, and yet through them somehow the light gleams out more brightly, and obtains a new quality which enables it to be perceptible upon other and lower planes, which without this would be altogether beneath the possibility of sensing its effulgence. And by degrees we begin to realize that these subsidiary suns are the great Ones, that these are Planetary Spirits, Great Angels, Karmic Deities, Buddhas, Christs and Masters, and that through Them the light and the life are flowing down to the lower planes. Gradually, little by little, as we become more accustomed to the stupendous reality, we begin to see that, in a far lower sense, even we ourselves are a focus in that cosmic scheme, and that through us also, at our much lower level, the light and the life are flowing to those who are still further away — not from it, for we are all part of it and there is nothing else anywhere — but further from the realization of it, the comprehension of it, the experience of it. If we can see and grasp even a little of the glory, we can to some extent reflect it to others who are less fortunate. That light shines for every one, and it is the only reality; yet men by their ignorance and by their foolish actions may so shut themselves away that they cannot see it, just as the sun floods the whole world with light and life, and yet men may hide themselves in caves and cellars where that light cannot be seen. Just as a mirror properly placed at the mouth of such a cave or cellar may enable those within to participate, at least to some extent, in the benefits of the light, so may we, when we see the light, reflect it to others who have so placed themselves that they cannot perceive it directly. No words that we can use can really give even least idea of such an experience as that, for all with which our minds are acquainted has long ago disappeared before that level is attained. There is of course at that level a sheath of some sort for the spirit, but it is impossible to describe it in any words. In one sense it seems as though it were an atom, and yet in another it seems to be the whole plane. Each man is a centre of consciousness and therefore must have some position; that focus in the stream of the life of the LOGOS must, one would say, be in one place or another. Yet he feels as if he were the whole plane and could focus anywhere, and wherever for the moment the outpouring of this force stops, that is for him a sheath. The man still feels absolutely himself, even though he is so much more; and he is able to distinguish others. He is able to recognize with perfect certainty the Great Ones whom he knows, yet it is rather by instinctive feeling than by any resemblance to anything that he has seen before; but if he focusses his consciousness upon one of These he gets the effect of the form of the man he knows it in the Augoeides, two planes below.

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/I


text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/II

THE TRIPLE SPIRIT The Monads are clearly all centres of force in the LOGOS, and yet each possesses a very distinct individuality of his own. In the average man the monad is but little in touch with the ego and the lower personality, which are yet somehow expressions of him. He knows from the first what is his object in evolution and he grasps the general trend of it, but until that portion of him which expresses itself in the ego has reached a fairly high stage, he is scarcely conscious of the details of life down here, or at any rate takes little interest in them. He seems at that stage not to know other monads, but rests in indescribable bliss without any active consciousness of surroundings. As evolution progresses, however, he grasps matters on the lower lane much more fully, and finally takes them entirely into his own hands, and at that stage he knows both himself and others, and his voice within us becomes for us the Voice of the Silence. That voice differs for us at different stages. For us now in this lower consciousness it is the voice of the ego; when we identify ourselves with the ego it is the voice of the spirit; when we reach the spirit it is the voice of the monad, and when in the far-away future we identify ourselves wholly with the monad it ill be the voice of the LOGOS; but in every case we have to subject the lower and rise above it, before the voice of the higher can be heard. This monad resides permanently upon the second of our planes, and when he descends upon the third, the plane of nirvana, he manifests himself as the triple spirit, and this triple spirit is a reflection or (even more truly) an expression of the LOGOS as He manifests Himself in our set of planes. His first manifestation on our highest plane is also triple. In the first of these three aspects He does not manifest Himself on any plane below the highest, but in the second He descends to the second plane and draws round Himself a garment of its matter, thus making a quite separate expression of Him. In the third aspect He descends to the upper portion of the third plane, and draws round Himself matter of that level, thus making a third manifestation. These three are the “three persons in one God,” of which Christianity teaches, telling us in its Athanasian creed that we should worship “One God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity, neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance” — that is to say, never confusing in our minds the work and function of the three separate manifestations, each on its own plane, yet never for a moment forgetting the eternal unity of the “substance,” that which lives behind all alike on the highest plane, at the level where these three are one. Now an exact repetition of this process takes place in the case of man, who is in very truth made in the image of God. The spirit is triple upon the third plane, and the first of its three manifestations does not descend below that level. The second manifestation descends one stage, on to the fourth plane, and clothes itself with its matter, and then we call it buddhi. Just as before, the third aspect descends two planes, and shrines itself in matter of the highest level of the mental plane, and we call that manas, and this trinity of atma-buddhi-manas, manifesting in the causal body, is what we call the ego. Never forget that the ego is not the manas only, but the spiritual triad; at our present stage of evolution he rests in his causal body on the higher levels of the mental plane, but as he passes onwards his consciousness will be centred on the buddhic plane, and afterwards, when he attains adeptship; on the nirvanic. But it must not be supposed that when this further development takes place the manas is in any way lost. When the ego draws himself up into the buddhic plane, he draws up manas with him into that expression of manas which has all the time existed on the buddhic plane, but has not been fully vivified until now. In the same way when he draws himself up into the nirvanic plane, manas and buddhi exist within him just as fully as ever, so that now the triple spirit is in full manifestation on its own plane in all its three aspects. Therefore the spirit is truly seven-fold, for he is triple on his own plane, dual on the buddhic, and single on the mental, and the unity which is his synthesis makes seven. Though he draws back into the higher he retains the definiteness of the lower. This is probably what Madame Blavatsky meant when she spoke of the auric egg, but she surrounded this idea with great mystery, and it seems likely that she was under some pledge not to write freely about it. She never clearly explained the triple spirit, but evidently endeavored to suggest the idea without clearly expressing it, for she laid great stress upon the fact that, just as the astral plane may be said to be a reflection of the buddhic, so may the physical be said to be a reflection of the nirvanic, and then she furthermore emphasized the fact that there are three bodies or vehicles of man on the physical plane — apparently going out of her way to make this agree, and for that purpose dividing the physical body of man into two parts, the dense and the etheric, and adding as a third principle the vitality which flows through them. Now as this vitality exists on all the planes, and might just as well be made into additional principles on the astral and mental planes as on the physical, it would seem that some reason is required for her rather peculiar arrangement, and perhaps this reason may be found in her desire to indicate the triple spirit without actually mentioning it. I think the President has said that when Blavatsky spoke about the sacred auric egg she meant the four permanent atoms within an envelope of matter of the nirvanic plane.

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

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/II


text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/III

BUDDHIC CONSCIOUSNESS A selfish man could not function on the buddhic plane, for the very essence of that plane is sympathy and perfect comprehension, which excludes selfishness. A man cannot make a buddhic body until he has conquered the lower planes. There is a close connection between the astral and the buddhic, the former being in some ways a reflection of the latter; but it must not therefore be supposed that a man can leap from the astral consciousness to the buddhic without developing the intervening vehicles. Certainly on the highest levels of the buddhic plane a man becomes one with all others, but we must not therefore assume that he feels alike towards all. There is no reason to suppose that we shall ever feel absolutely alike towards everybody; why should we? Even the Lord BUDDHA had His favorite disciple Ananda; even the Christ regarded Saint John the Beloved in a different way from the rest. What is true is that presently we shall come to love every one as much as we now love our nearest and dearest, but by that time we shall have developed for those nearest and dearest a type of love of which we have no conception now. The buddhic consciousness includes that of many others, so that you may put yourself down into another man and feel exactly as he does, looking upon him from within instead of from without. In that relation you will feel no shrinking even from an evil man, because you will recognize him as a part of yourself — a weak part. You will desire to help him by pouring strength in that weak part of yourself. What is required is really to be in this attitude and to do it, not merely to talk about it or think vaguely of it; and it is not easy to acquire this power.

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/III


text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/IV

EXPERIENCE It is not necessary for every ego to go through every experience, for when you rise to the buddhic level you can gain the experience of others, even of those who have opposed progress. We shall feel by sympathy. We could withdraw if we did not want to feel another's suffering; but we should choose to feel it because we want to help. On the buddhic plane we enfold the man in our own consciousness, and though he knows nothing of such enfoldment it will to a certain extent lessen his sufferings. In all probability we have all had most of the experiences of the savage and half-civilized stages. An adept would necessarily wish to remove or relieve suffering, but we may easily imagine a case in which he would see that the good which was being produced by the suffering so enormously outweighed the present pain that to interfere would not be kindness but cruelty to the sufferer. He would see the whole, not only the part. His sympathy would be deeper than ours, but he would not express it in action except when action was useful.

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/IV


text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/V

THE SPHERES In any diagram which represents the various planes we usually draw them as lying one above the other like the shelves of a book-case. But then in explaining that diagram we are careful to say that this must not be taken literally, since all the planes interpenetrate and all of them are about us here all the time. That is perfectly true, and yet there is a sense in which the shelf-like arrangement is true also. We may perhaps draw an analogy from the condition of affairs which we find existing upon the surface of the physical earth. We may take the solid matter for all practical purposes as existing only under our feet, as the lowest stratum of physical matter, though of course it is true that countless millions of particles of solid matter are also floating in the air over our heads. We may say that, roughly speaking, the liquid matter of the earth (chiefly water) lies upon the surface of the solid matter, though again it is true that a large amount of water interpenetrates the earth beneath us, and also that millions of tons of water are raised above the surface of the earth in the form of clouds. Still, the great bulk of the liquid matter of the earth lies on the top of its solid matter in the form of the ocean, lakes and rivers. Then the gaseous matter of our earth (chiefly the atmosphere) lies upon the surface of the water and of the solid earth, and extends much further away into space than either the liquid or the solid. All three conditions of matter exist here at the surface of the earth where we live, but the water in the form of clouds extents further above that surface than does ordinary dust, and again the air, though interpenetrating both the others, extends much further away still. This is by no means a bad analogy to explain the arrangement of the matter of the higher planes. What we call our astral plane may also be considered as the astral body of the earth. It certainly exists all around us, and interpenetrates the solid earth beneath our feet, but it also extends far away above our heads, so that we may think of it as a huge ball of astral matter with the physical earth in the middle of it, much as the physical body of a man exists within the ovoid form which is filled with astral matter, except that in case of the earth the proportionate size of its astral body outside the physical is enormously greater than in the case of man. But just as in the case of the man densest aggregation of astral matter is that which is within the periphery of the physical body, so in the case of the earth by far the greater part of its astral matter is gathered together within the limit of the physical sphere. Nevertheless, the portion of the astral sphere which is exterior to the physical, extends nearly to the mean distance of the moon's orbit, so that the astral planes of the two worlds touch one another when the moon is in perigee, but do not touch when the moon is in apogee. Incidentally, it follows that at certain times of the month astral communication with the moon is possible, and at certain other times it is not. The mental plane of our earth bears about the same proportion to the astral as the latter does to the physical. It also is a huge globe, concentric with the other two, interpenetrating them both, but extending much further from the centre than does the astral globe. It will be seen that the effect of this is that, while matter of all the planes exists together down here, there is a certain amount of truth in the illustration of the shelves, for beyond the limit of the physical atmosphere there is a considerable shell which consists only of astral and mental matter, and outside of that again another similar shell which consists of mental matter only. When we reach the buddhic plane the extension becomes so great that what we might call the buddhic bodies of the different planets of our chain meet one another, and so there is but one buddhic body for the whole chain, which means that in the buddhic vehicle it is possible to pass from one of these planets to another. I presume that when investigations in a similar way are extended to the nirvanic plane it will be found that that matter extends so much further that other chains are included in it as well — perhaps the entire solar system. All this is true as far as it goes, and yet it does not convey a really accurate idea of the true position of affairs, because of the fact that our minds can grasp only three dimensions, whereas in reality there are many more, and as we raise our consciousness from plane to plane, each step opens before us the possibility of comprehending one more of these dimensions. This makes it difficult to describe exactly the position of those who have passed away from the physical life to other planes. Some of such people tend to hover round their earthly homes, in order to keep in touch with their friends of the physical life and the places which they know; others, on the other hand, have a tendency to float away and to find for themselves, as if by specific gravity, a level much further removed from the surface of the earth. The average person passing into the heaven-life, for example, tends to float at a considerable distance above the surface of the earth, although on the other hand some of such men are drawn to our level. Still, broadly speaking, the inhabitants of the heaven-world may be thought of as living in a sphere or ring or zone round the earth. What Spiritualists call the summer-land extends many miles above our heads, and as people of the same race and the same religion tend to keep together after death just as they do during life, we have what may be described as a kind of network of summer-lands over the countries to which belong the people who have created them. People find their own level on the astral plane, much in the same way as objects floating in the ocean do. This does not mean that they cannot rise and fall at will, but that if no special effort is made they come to their level and remain there. Astral matter gravitates towards the centre of the earth just as physical matter does; both obey the same general laws. We may take it that the sixth sub-plane of the astral is partially coincident with the surface of the earth, while the lowest, or seventh, penetrates some distance into the interior. The conditions of the interior of our earth are not easy to describe. Vast cavities exist in it, and there are races inhabiting these cavities, but they are not of the same evolution as ourselves. One of these evolutions, which is at a level distinctly lower than any race now existing upon the surface of the earth, is to some extent described in the seventeenth life of Alcyone, published recently in The Theosophist; the other is more nearly at our level, yet utterly different from anything that we know. As the centre of the earth is approached, matter is found to exist in a state not readily comprehensible to those who have not seen it; a state in which it is far denser than the densest metal known to us, and yet flows as readily as water. But yet there is something else within even that. Such matter is far too dense for any forms of life that we know, but nevertheless, it has connected with it an evolution of its own. The tremendous pressures which exist here are utilized by the Third LOGOS for the manufacture of new elements; in fact, the central portions of the earth may with great truth be regarded as His laboratory for temperatures and pressures are obtainable there of which we on the surface have no conception. It is there that, under His direction, troops of devas and nature-spirits of a particular type combine and separate, arrange and rearrange the ultimate physical atoms, working along the wonderful double spiral which is symbolized in Sir William Crookes' lemniscates. From this point also, incredible as it seems to us, there is a direct connection with the heart of the sun, so that elements made there appear in the centre of the earth without passing through what we call the surface; but it is useless to speak of this until the higher dimensions of space are more generally understood. As in the case of the physical, the densest astral matter is far too dense for the ordinary forms of astral life; but that also has other forms of its own which are quite unknown to students of the surface. In investigating the interior of the earth we did not find a central shaft running from pole to pole, such as has been described by some mediums, nor did we find a number of concentric spheres resting upon cushions of steam. At the same time there are certain forces which do play through concentric layers, and it is not difficult to see what were the natural phenomena which deceived those who, in perfect good faith, made that statement. There is unquestionably a force of etheric pressure just as there is of atmospheric pressure, and it can be utilized by man as soon as he can discover some material which is ether-proof. The same pressure exists in the astral world. The most ordinary example of this is what happens when a man leaves his body in sleep or in death. When the astral body is withdrawn from the physical, we must not suppose that that physical body is left without an astral counterpart. The pressure of the surrounding astral matter — and that really means the action of the force of gravitation on the astral plane — immediately forces other astral matter into that astrally empty space, just as, if we create a vortex and draw out the air from a room, other air flows instantly from the surrounding atmosphere. But that astral matter will correspond with curious accuracy to physical matter which it interpenetrates. Every variety of physical matter attracts astral matter of corresponding density, so that solid physical matter is interpenetrated by what we may call solid astral matter — that is, matter of the lowest astral sub-plane; whereas physical liquid is interpenetrated by matter of the next astral sub-plane — astral liquid; while physical gas in turn attracts its particular correspondence — matter of the third astral sub-plane from the bottom, which might be called astral gas. Take the case of a glass of water; the tumbler (being solid matter) is interpenetrated by astral matter of the lowest sub-plane; the water in the tumbler (being liquid matter) is interpenetrated by astral matter of the second sub-plane, counting from the bottom upwards; while the air which surrounds both (being gaseous matter) is interpenetrated by astral matter of the third sub-plane, counting from the bottom upwards. We must also realize that just as all these things, the tumbler, the water, and the air, are interpenetrated by physical ether, so are their astral correspondences further interpenetrated by the variety of astral matter which corresponds to the different types of ether. So when a man withdraws is astral body from the physical there is an inrush of all three varieties of astral matter, because man's physical body is composed of solid, liquid and gaseous constituents. Of course there is ether in the physical body as well, so there must also be astral matter of the higher sub-planes to correspond to that. That temporary astral counterpart formed during the absence of the real astral body is thus an exact copy of it so far as arrangement is concerned, but it has no real connection with the physical body, and could never be used as a vehicle. It is constructed of any astral matter of the required kind that happens to be handy; it is merely a fortuitous concourse of atoms, and when the true astral body returns it pushes out this other astral matter without the slightest opposition. This is one reason for the extreme care which ought to be exercised as to the surroundings in which we sleep, for if those surroundings are evil, astral matter of the most objectionable type may fill our physical bodies while we are away from them, leaving behind it an influence which cannot but react horribly upon the real man when he returns. But the instant inrush when the body is abandoned shows the existence of astral pressure. In the same way, when the man has finally left his physical body at death, what he leaves is no longer a vehicle, but a corpse — not in any true sense a body at all, but simply a collection of disintegrating material in the shape of a body. Just as we can no longer call that truly a body, so we cannot call the astral matter which interpenetrates it truly a counterpart in the ordinary sense of the word. Take an imperfect yet perhaps helpful analogy. When the cylinder of an engine is full of steam, we may regard the steam as the living force within the cylinder, which makes the engine move. But when the engine is cold and at rest, the cylinder is not necessarily empty; it may be filled with air; yet that air is not its appropriate living force, though it occupies the same position as did the steam. Astral matter is never really solid at all — only relatively solid. You know that the mediaeval alchemists always symbolized astral matter by water, and one of the reasons for that was its fluidity and penetrability. It is true that the counterpart of any solid physical object is always matter of the lowest astral sub-plane, which for convenience we often call astral solid matter; but we must not therefore endow it with the qualities with which we are familiar in solids on this plane. The particles in that densest kind of astral matter are further apart relatively to their size than even gaseous particles; so that it would be easier for two of the densest astral bodies to pass through each other than it would be for the lightest physical gas to diffuse itself in the air. On the astral plane one has not the sense of jumping over a precipice, but simply of floating over it. If you are standing upon the ground, part of your astral body interpenetrates the ground under your feet; but through your astral body you would not be conscious of this fact by anything corresponding to a sense of hardness, or by any difference in your power of motion. Remember that upon the astral plane there is no sense of touch that corresponds to ours upon the physical. One never touches the surface of anything, so as to feel it hard or soft, rough or smooth, hot or cold; but on coming into contact with the interpenetrating substance one would be conscious of a different rate of vibration, which might of course be pleasant or unpleasant, stimulating or depressing. When on awakening in the morning we remember anything corresponding to our ordinary sense of touch, it is only that in bringing the remembrance through, the physical brain adopted the means of expression to which we are accustomed. Though the light of all planes comes from the sun, yet the effect which it produces on the astral plane is entirely different from that on the physical. In astral life there is a diffused luminosity, not obviously coming from any special direction. All astral matter is in itself luminous, and an astral body is not like a painted sphere, but rather a sphere of living fire. It is also transparent, and there are no shadows. It is never dark in the astral world. The passing of a physical cloud between us and the sun makes no difference whatever to the astral plane, nor of course does the shadow of the earth which we call night. The invisible helper would not pass through a mountain, if he thought of it as an obstacle; to learn that it is not an obstacle is precisely the object of one part of what is called “the test of earth.” There cannot be an accident on the astral plane in our sense of word, because the astral body, being fluidic, cannot be destroyed or permanently injured, as the physical body can. An explosion on the astral plane might be temporarily as disastrous as an explosion of gunpowder on the physical, but the astral fragments would quickly collect themselves again. People on the astral plane can and do pass through one another constantly, and through fixed astral objects. Remember that on the astral plane matter is so much more fluidic and so much less densely aggregated. There never can be anything like what we mean by a collision, and under ordinary circumstances two bodies which interpenetrate are not even appreciably affected. If, however, the interpenetration lasts for some time, as it does, for example, when two person sit side by side through a service in a church or a performance in a theatre, a considerable effect may be produced. There are many currents which tend to carry about persons who are lacking in will, and even those who have will but do not know how to use it. During physical life the matter of our astral bodies is constantly in motion, while after death, unless the will is exercised for the purpose of preventing it, it is arranged in concentric shells with a crust of the coarsest matter on the outside. If a man wishes to be of service on the astral, this shelling must be prevented, for those whose astral bodies have been thus re-arranged are confined to one level. If the re-arrangement has already occurred, the first thing that is done when a person is taken in hand is to break up that condition and set him free on the whole of the astral plane. For those who are acting as invisible helpers on the astral plane there are no separate levels; it is all one. In India the idea of service on the astral plane is not so widely known as in the West; the idea of service to God for the attainment of liberation is more prominent than that of service to one's fellowmen. Atmospheric and climatic conditions make practically no difference to work on the astral and mental planes. But being in a big city does make a great difference, on account of the masses of thought-forms. Some psychics require a temperature of about eighty degrees in order to do their best work, while others do not work well except at a lower temperature. If necessary, occult work can be done anywhere, but some places afford greater facilities than others. For example, California has a very dry climate with much electricity in the air, which is favourable for the development of clairvoyance Here in Adyar there is no resistance to our thought-forms on account of the environment, because we are all thinking more or less along the same lines. But we must remember that there may always be resistance on the part of the person to whom we are sending thoughts, for some persons have for a whole life-time built round themselves such shells of selfishness that one cannot penetrate them even when one wishes to do them good.

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fourth Section/V


text:
The Inner Life, v. I/Fifth Section

FIFTH SECTION

THE EGO AND HIS VEHICLES

title: The Inner Life, v. I/Fifth Section


text:
Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/256

200 At last the sunshine left the ground,

The laden bee flew home,

The deep-down sea with sudden sound

Impelled its waves to foam.

The corse [sic] grew heavy on his arm,

The starry heaven grew dim,

The summer night so mild and warm

Felt wintry chill to him.

A troubled shadow o'er his eye

Came down, and rested there;

The moors and sky went swimming by,

Confused and strange and drear.

He faintly prayed, 'O Death, delay

Thy last fell dart to throw,

Till I can hear my sovereign say

The traitors' heads are low!

'God! guard her life, since not to me

That dearest boon was given;

God! bless her sun with victory,

Or bless not me with heaven!'

Then came the cry of agony,

The pang of parting pain;

And he had overpassed the sea,

That none can pass again.


text:
Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/257

Rh Douglas leaned above the well;

Heather banks around him rose;

Bright and warm the sunshine fell

On that spot of sweet repose.

With the blue heaven bending o'er

And the soft wind singing by,

And the clear stream evermore

Mingling harmony.

On the shady side reclined

He watched its waters play,

And sound and sight had well combined

To banish gloom away.

A voice spoke near. 'She'll come,' it said,

And, Douglas! thou shalt be

My love, altho' the very dead

Should rise to rival thee!

'Now only let thine arm be true,

And nerved, like mine, to kill;

And Gondal's royal race shall rue

This day on Elmor Hill!!!'

They wait not long, the rustling heath

Betrays their royal foe;

With hurried step and panting breath,

And cheek almost as white as death,

Augusta sprang below.


text:
Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/258

202 Yet marked she not where Douglas lay,

She only saw the well;

The tiny fountain, churning spray

Within its mossy cell.

'Oh! I have wrongs to pay,' she said;

'Give life, give vigour now.'

And stooping by the water's side

She drank the crystal flow.

And brightly with that draught came back

The glory of her matchless eye

As glancing o'er the moorland track,

She shook her head impatiently.

Nor shape—nor shade—the mountain flocks

Quietly fed in grassy dells;

Nor sound, except the distant rocks

Echoing to their bells.

She turns—she meets the murderer's gaze;

Her own is scorched with a sudden blaze.

The blood streams down her brow;

The blood streams through her coal-black hair,

She strikes it off with little care;

She scarcely feels the flow;

For she has marked and known him too,

And his own heart's ensanguined dew

Must slake her vengeance now!

False friend! no tongue save thine can tell

The mortal strife that then befell;


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Rh As soon as the news of the New South Wales outbreak (which had rapidly spread to the other colonies) reached the Federal Government, extensive preparations were at once made for its suppression. Many of the military had joined the insurgents, but there still remained a very large number who were willing to fight to maintain the old order of things. Most of these were massed in Victoria, where the outbreak had been, after severe fighting, temporarily quelled.

The defeat of the Victorian insurgents was, however, more owing to the smallness of their numbers and their want of sufficient arms and ammunition than to any other cause, for they fought with great courage, pertinacity and skill. The Brotherhood marksmen particularly distinguished themselves by the ease and accuracy with which, firing from the roofs and windows of houses, they picked off the various officers, and the men told off to work the machine-guns. The authorities had, with their troops,a number of machine-guns, termed "mob-quellers," an improvement on the old Gatling gun. The simple, yet delicate machinery of these guns was, however, soon put out of gear by well-directed shots from the insurgent sharpshooters.

Eventually, however, the insurgents had no alternative but to abandon the fight, and by a piece of highly creditable strategy they succeeded in making good their retreat.

After the Victorian flight both sides drew together their forces with the view to a decisive battle, which finally took place in the interior of the continent.

Prior to the federation of Australia a large portion of the interior of the country was unknown. Many attempts had been made by explorers to penetrate to the heart of this terra incognita, but apparently with but small success, as few of the explorers had ever returned to the coastal settlements to relate their experiences. After the Federation, however, it was determined by the Government that a large party should be fitted out for the purpose of thoroughly exploring the whole of the hitherto unexplored portion of Australia. The Government was rewarded by the discovery, in the north-western portion of the interior of a large settlement of white people, of whom further information will be given in another chapter. It was in that portion of Australia that the celebrated "Battle of Leichhardt" took place.

The Governments of Victoria, West Australia and Tasmania sided with the Plutocracy, while, New South Wales, Queensland, South Australia and the newly-discovered State of Leichhardt were in the hands of the revolutionists. North Australia (formerly the Northern Territory) was considered doubtful, as that State was chiefly populated by Chinamen, who, though bitter against the white workers in the South, because of the large number of Chinamen who had been killed or maltreated by them, were yet strongly suspected by the Plutocracy of sympathy with Communistic principles.

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244 so continued until they again began to feed, when he renewed his cautious approach; endeavouring, if he could, to get behind a tree. But, with all this caution, he did not succeed; as, before he got within gun-shot, they took to their heels, and bounded away with a swiftness that left the dogs, who were nearly knocked up, far behind. To make up for this loss, two or three bandicoots were caught.

Some of the party now believed, or affected to believe, that I intended to take them to Swan River, and became very uneasy in consequence; more particularly Gough, the soldier, who, although he had been all through the Peninsular war, and of necessity exposed to many hardships and privations, yet did not relish the idea of being so far in a country, where no European had ever before ventured; especially as our provisions were not very plentiful. I had, therefore, to bear broad hints, and some ill-humour, with as much urbanity as policy required.

To add to this discontent, we had travelled a considerable distance without having fallen in with any water, and the day was rapidly declining; but, hoping to meet with some before dark, we pushed forward, at a very brisk pace, and about sunset we arrived at a valley nearly destitute of trees, where Mokărē succeeded in shooting a large kangaroo; and a native reservoir of water being, at the same time, discovered, the party immediately became in good spirits, and entered, con amore, into the business of preparing the feast.

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Rh So much has been said, and written, on the resemblance of many spots in New South Wales to noble English domains, that I forbear to make the comparison. Suffice it to observe, that our present encampment was on the north side of a beautiful valley, of considerable width, extending east and west, as far as the eye could survey; bounded on the south and north by a succession of gently undulating, and very moderately elevated hills, thinly, but sufficiently ornamented by trees, of gigantic form;—the loveliness of the scene being greatly increased, by the golden rays of the departing sun, gradually yielding to the silvery light of the full-orbed moon, and the brilliant evening star.

The party having exerted themselves, soon completed our encampment, kindled a fire, and the kangaroo was speedily cooked in various ways. While these operations were going on, I endeavoured to ascertain, from Mokărē, who understood a little English, whether he, or any of his tribe, had any notion of a future state of existence, or of a Superior Being; but I felt some difficulty in making him comprehend my meaning.

I stated to him, that man was composed of two parts; one of which, when he died, was just like the kangaroo, and all other animals, which did not speak;—that the other part did not die:—and if the man were good, he ascended to the sky, where he lived happily with his Maker, and the Maker of the sun, moon, and stars; whereas, the bad man went down beneath the earthy and dwelt with a malignant being, named "Devil,"

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246 whose sole occupation consisted in tormenting. He Immediately said, that they had the same opinion; but I am convinced he only caught the idea from me.

He asked, who were bad men? I told him, those who killed others without just cause. He answered "Very good, bad man to go to the Debil." He admitted it was all right, so far as regarded killing a white man, but I could not persuade him, that there was any harm in one black fellow spearing another; which, on the contrary, he considered in some cases, meritorious.

I then told him, that all those who stole were also bad men. He started in amazement, and repeated with an air of incredulity, "Quepel!" (to steal). It was evident, that he viewed this action in a more favourable light than even the Spartans did. I learned from him, that it was usual, on such a night as this, for the natives (who seldom travel in the dark) to steal privately on those whom they wished to destroy, and despatch them.

He knew several of the stars, but pretended to a knowledge of more of them than he really possessed; however, on cross-examination, I was convinced that he was acquainted with Venus and the Atlantic Sisters; likewise with Orion, Canopus, and Achemar.

Supper being prepared, his examination ended, of which he was beginning to get tired. They all turned to, and I was astonished at the immense quantity which some of them literally bolted down their throats.

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Rh But, ere night darkened down

The stream in silence sang once more

And on its green bank, bathed in gore,

Augusta lay alone!

False Love! no earthly eye did see,

Yet heaven's pure eye regarded thee,

Where thy own Douglas bled;

How thou didst turn in mockery

From his last hopeless agony,

And leave the hungry hawk to be

Sole watcher of the dead!

Was it a deadly swoon?

Or was her spirit really gone?

And the cold corse beneath the moon

Laid like another mass of dust and stone?

The moon was full that night,

The sky was almost light like day;

You might have seen the pulses play

Upon her forehead white;

You might have seen the dear, dear light of life

In her uncovered eye;

And her cheek changing in the mortal strife

Betwixt the pain to live and agony to die.

But nothing mutable was there!

The face, all deadly fair,


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Rh Mr. Kent and myself contented ourselves with soup, made from the tail of the kangaroo, which, with the addition of a little biscuit and rice, was exceedingly palatable.

This being Saturday night, a double allowance of grog was issued to the party, who were now in high glee, and talked with the utmost sang froid of going to Swan River; and I took this opportunity of explaining, that no person could be called a good bushman, unless he could walk a day or two without eating or drinking, which position appeared (especially to Gough) not very tenable.

I may here describe the usual method of encampment on such expeditions. A convenient spot being selected, if possible, to windward of a large fallen half-burned tree, a few branches and bushes are placed in a semicircular form, as a defence from the night wind; the log is kindled, and soon forms a blazing fire, which, being too fierce for cooking, a smaller one is used for that purpose. After supper, each rolls himself in his blanket, and, with his feet towards the fire, soon fells asleep.

Before retiring to rest, we made arrangements to guard against being suddenly surprised; but, as both men and dogs had indulged in excessive gluttony, not much watchfulness could be expected from either party.

We were now nearly seventy miles, in a north-westerly direction, from the settlement, in a country well adapted either for pastoral or agricultural

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204 Showed a fixed impress of keen suffering past,

And the raised lids did show

No wandering gleam below

But a dark anguish, self-destroyed at last.

Long he gazed and held his breath,

Kneeling on the blood-stained heath;

Long he gazed those lids beneath,

Looking into Death!

Not a word from his followers fell;

They stood by mute and pale;

That black treason uttered well

Its own heart-harrowing tale.

But earth was bathed in other gore;

There were crimson drops across the moor,

And Lord Eldred glancing round,

Saw those tokens on the ground.

'Bring him back!' he hoarsely said;

'Wounded is the traitor fled;

Vengeance may hold but minutes brief

And you have all your lives for grief.'

He is left alone—he sees the stars

Their quiet course continuing:

And, far away, down Elmor scars

He hears the stream its waters fling;


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248 ; and I regretted, exceedingly, that want of time compelled me to make it the ne plus ultra of my excursion northward, where, I am convinced, the same kind of land exists, to a great extent.

On Sunday, at daylight, we resumed our journey west, through the valley, which bore marks of being occasionally overflowed. We had not proceeded far, when my ears were saluted with the cry of the young man who was following close behind me,—"Oh, doctor! you are a gone man! a snake has a hold of you!"

I jumped forward; and then, turning round, beheld the ancient enemy of the human race, rearing its hateful form above the grass. and hissing defiance. It was soon dispatched, although I, having trod on it, was the aggressor. It caught me on the outside of the right knee, but, my trowsers being wide, fortunately the bite did not reach my skin.

This narrow escape caused some reflection; I thought it would have been a lamentable termination of my career—after having escaped the perils of shipwreck—to perish by the bite of a black snake, in the wilds of New Holland.

We continued our journey, and I requested Mokărē to precede me; not only as he had much quicker eyes, but as mine (such as they were) had sufficient occupation in watching the compass. But he did not seem to relish the preference given him on this occasion, and soon fell behind.

About nine o'clock, we arrived at a shallow lagoon,

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Rh the water of which, to our fastidious taste, was somewhat brackish. Perceiving water at a short distance, directly north of this, we proceeded thither, and observed a circular basin, of considerable extent, literally covered with majestic black swans, ducks, teal, and other aquatic birds. Judging it would not be amiss to get a few of these, we agreed to halt, and take a late breakfast and early dinner together.

Mokărē being a good shot, was desired to exert his skill in that way, and then to swim in for his game. To my astonishment, he told me he could not swim. Not believing this, I urged him to proceed; but neither flattery nor raillery could prevail on Mokărē, who, in order to induce us to leave the place, informed me it abounded with very venomous snakes.

A thick and broad belt of reeds, above eighteen feet high, surrounded the lake; and Gough, who was a keen sportsman, was requested to walk through, and get us something. This he proceeded to do; but, having taken a few steps, the water being above his waist, he retrograded in double quick time, evidently to the satisfaction of Mokărē, who had ascended a tree, to witness the result.

Mr. Kent and myself offered to go on each side of Gough, to prevent his being drowned, in case the water suddenly became deep; but he declined making any further attempt, which was then taken up by others, who were also unsuccessful, as may readily be imagined, when it is stated that the water was upwards

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Rh That lulling monotone did sing

Of broken rock and shaggy glen;

Of welcome for the moorcock's wing,

But not of wail for men!

Nothing of heaven or earth to show

One sign of sympathising woe,

And nothing but that agony

In her now unconscious eye,

To weigh upon the labouring breast

And prove she did not pass at rest.

But he who watched in thought had gone,

Retracing back her lifetime flown;

Like sudden ghosts, to memory came

Full many a face, and many a name,

Full many a heart, that in the tomb,

He almost deemed, might have throbbed again

Had they but known her dreary doom,

Had they but seen their idol then,

A wreck of desolate despair,

Left to the wild birds of the air,

And mountain winds and rain!

For him—no tear his stern eye shed

As he looked down upon the dead.

'Wild morn,' he thought, 'and doubtful noon;

But yet it was a glorious sun,

Though comet-like its course was run;

That sun should never have been given

To burn and dazzle in the heaven

Or night has quenched it far too soon!


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250 of six feet deep at the inner margin of the sedgy belt.

On regaining the dry land, which was done with some difficulty, we were surprised to see the blood streaming from various parts of our bodies, which, on inspection, we found to be covered with leeches—the true hirudo medicinalis. We had felt, while in the water, several sharp bites, which made us start, and call to mind the black snake: these were now satisfactorily accounted for.

The water-fowl being disturbed, flew to the southward. The sportsmen followed them to the shallow lagoon, and succeeded in obtaining a brace of fine teal, which, with the remainder of the kangaroo, were cooked for our repast. This being finished, we left the lake, which we named Loch Ketturine; and, resuming our course to the westward, we soon perceived that we had left the good land behind us.

After having travelled over a few miles of barren scrub, observing, as we thought, rising ground to the northward, we bent our steps thither, and found good forest land; the altitude of the trees giving it, when viewed at a distance, the appearance of considerable elevation. We again proceeded westward, and passed over a tract of country, as miserable and useless as any to be found in New South Wales.

In the evening we reached and suddenly re-entered on fine open land; several hundred acres being without a tree. This was very agreeable to us, tired and

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206 And thou art gone—with all thy pride;

Thou, so adored, so dignified!

Cold as the earth, unweeting now

Of love, or joy, or mortal woe.

'For what thou wert I would not grieve,

But much for what thou wert to be;

That life so stormy and so brief,

That death has wronged us more than thee.

'Thy passionate youth was nearly past,

The opening sea seemed smooth at last;

Yet vainly flowed the calmer wave

Since fate had not decreed to save.

'And vain too must the sorrow be

Of those who live to mourn for thee;

But Gondal's foe shall not complain

That thy dear blood was poured in vain.'


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Rh disheartened by our fatiguing journey; but our pleasure was somewhat alloyed, by not being able to procure water, of which, however, we had three quart bottles with us. We prepared to encamp; but as the water could not be shared very plentifully, among six men and two dogs (the latter very deserving and thirsty, haying just returned from a severe chase after a flock of kangaroos), there was not much talk of going to Swan River, and Gough became very uncivil, threatening to knock Mokărē down, if he did not find water immediately. I was obliged to interfere, and, by digging a hole, we obtained a supply of good quality.

Next morning I informed those who were tired of the journey, that they might return, that Mokărē would go with them, to guide them on their way, and that they might take all the provision, excepting a little biscuit. This proposition came like a thunderbolt. Mr. Kent, to whom I had previously communicated my intention, agreed to keep company with me, as also did the Crown prisoners. Gough said he would not go back, as he could never find his way home, and that Mokărē was now as much at a loss as himself.

I then explained to him, not to suppose I had wished his company altogether for the pleasure of his society; on the contrary, it was under the idea that he

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252 would make himself useful,—which he had not hitherto conspicuously done. I again desired him to return home, and inform them at the settlement, that we should be there in a day or two after him; but he persisted in remaining with the party. Observing that he was now completely crest-fallen, I made no further observation, than threatening, that if he henceforth conducted himself with any impropriety, I would leave him in the bush without ceremony.

This fracas being thus amicably terminated, we continued our westerly course; about noon, we arrived at and crossed a fine stream, running southerly, which was named the Kent, in compliment to the gentleman who accompanied me. Having rested here half an hour, we pursued our journey in a N.N.W. direction for the highest part of a range of hills, which now met our view.

Early in the evening, we bivouacked near a mountain torrent, in the midst of a wildly picturesque glen; the temperature, had other indications been wanting, sufficiently denoting that we were among the mountains.

During this day's journey, we passed over some good land, and more that might be made something of; but by far the greatest portion was either indifferent, or very barren.

We noticed several native encampments, but did not fall in with any of the natives; Mokărē discovered some traces of them, and amongst others, a love token:

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Rh a lock of hair, interwoven with some network, which he informed us, a fair, or rather a sable, damsel had hid; and it was the business of the enamoured swain to find it out, when he was rewarded for his assiduity by the favour of his mistress. If this be true, it shows that the aborigines of this place, if not more civilized, are, at all events, more romantic in their courtship than their brethren in the vicinity of Port Jackson, whose method is short and effectual; as they steal by ambush on the object of their affections, beat her senseless with a club, and then drag her off by the hair of the head, in triumph, to their own party.

The huts in this place are similar to those we noticed at Swan River, bearing an exact resemblance to a beehive cut vertically in two, with the convex side to that part most exposed to the wind and rain. Perceiving several that were formed in the same manner as the others, but as if the hive (after being cut vertically) opened by a hinge, thus forming two, we learned from Mokărē, that these were the apartments of the married people; we observed they were placed at some distance from each other, and from the other habitations.

This evening Mokărē, whether instigated by others or of his own accord, entered into a serious remonstrance with me on the impropriety of travelling any farther, as we were a long way from home, and the

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254 provisions were nearly expended, when (he said) the white fellows would cry; he also hinted that had he known before starting as much as he did now, he would have declined being one of the party. He said, the expeditions of Captain Wakefield and the others, had been maatinip, while mine had been already maatopen.

I told him, that the white fellows cared little about having anything to eat, and only cried when they could not get water; but being convinced that the case was widely different, he told me it was not a matter to make a joke of. I then told him to make himself quite easy, as, if we did not get another kangaroo shortly, his advice should be followed; and in order to create a little good humour, a double allowance of grog was issued, which had the desired effect; and "God save the King" was sung with much vociferation, where it never had been chanted before.

On Tuesday, we directed our course S.S.W. taking care to leave on our left, all the streams we met with; and in this manner we proceeded over hills and dales, until our progress was arrested by a swamp, wide and apparently deep, trending westward round the mountains. Mokărē, (who had much antipathy to water if of any depth,) and others of the party discovering some repugnance to attempt a passage directly across it, we took a detour to the eastward, and crossed it

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Rh where it was much narrower, and not more than two or three feet deep.

As, at this time, the thunder was rolling heavily,—the peals rendered more terrific and sublime, by the echoing hills; the rain pouring down in torrents, and the explorers, (some of whom wished themselves elsewhere,) being up to the middle in water, we thought it might not be inaptly named, the "Dismal Swamp."

Just as we crossed this, the dogs started a fine kangaroo, and, after a short run, caught it, having the advantage from the wetness of the ground. This welcome burden being hoisted on Mokărē's shoulders, we proceeded in a southerly direction, crossing an ironstone barren tract, intersected by small strips of good land.

Towards evening we arrived at another swamp, about 150 yards wide, and from two to three feet deep, winding eastward round the hills. Having passed this we encamped earlier than usual, being somewhat fatigued by our day's journey: the rain continued to fall heavily during the evening, but the party having plenty to eat, were in good humour. As appearances indicated that the weather would be wet and windy during the night, we formed our tents in the gipsy fashion, which afforded us a very snug and convenient shelter.

On Wednesday, at daylight, we proceeded in a southerly direction, through a country in general barren, but not altogether destitute of patches of very

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256 good land. About nine o'clock, perceiving a high, conical, insulated hill, bearing E. by S., we directed our course thither, passing through a rich valley, of considerable extent, where the dogs caught a kangaroo.

About one, P.M., we halted close by a pebbly stream, which rushed, with impetuosity, through the bottom of a deep, narrow glen, where the trees were of enormous circumference and altitude. This being a delightful spot, it was agreed to pitch our encampment, and remain until the morning, to allow such as required it, to take a little rest.

Being anxious to obtain a panoramic view of the country, which could be advantageously seen from the top of the mountain, I determined to ascend it; and, accompanied by Mr. Kent and Mokărē, started from our encampment at four, P.M., and reached its highest pinnacle by half-past six, when we enjoyed a prospect that more than repaid all our fatigue.

The highest peak is about thirty yards square, perfectly level, paved with minute particles of quartz and granite, and a huge block of the latter material adorns each angle. As this had some resemblance to a fortified place, it was named "Mount Lindesay," in compliment to the officers of the thirty-ninth regiment.

From the summit, the following bearings were taken; but, from our having only a small pocket compass, they cannot be considered as strictly accurate.—From the S.E. angle. Mount Melville, E.S.E.; Peakhead, S.E. by E. ½ E.; east point of Porrongorup, E., northerly;

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 He won't yield from his position and continues to argue. • to hand in. Терпеть не могу сдавить неоконченную работу. I hate to hand in unfinished work. • to turn over. Мы завтра сдаём государству зерно. We're turning over our grain to the government tomorrow. • to take an examination. Сегодня я сдаю химию. I'm taking a chemistry examination today. □ Моё сердце начинает сдавать. My heart is starting to go back on me. • Он обычно сдаёт дежурство в десять часов. He's usually relieved from duty at ten o'clock. • Кому сдавать? Who deals?

-ся to give up. Сдавайтесь! Ведь вы видите, что вы проиграли. Give up! Don't you see that the game is already lost? □ Он не сдавался ни на какие просьбы. He was deaf to all pleas. • Я слыхал, что у них сдаётся комната. I heard they have a room for rent.

сдам See сдать.

сдать (сдам, сдаст, §27; imv сдай; p сдала; сдался, сдалась, -лось, -лись; pct of сдавать) to turn over. Секретарь уже сдал дели своему преемнику. The secretary has already turned the work over to his successor. • to slow down. Они не сдали темпов и выполнили план. They were able to carry out their plan because they didn't slow down the work. □ сдать в багаж to check through. Вы уже сдали вещи в багаж? Have you checked your baggage through yet? сдать экзамены to pass one's exams. Как ваши экзамены? Сдали? How were your exams? Did you pass? □ *Бедняга, он очень сдал за последнее время. Poor fellow! He's been going to pot lately. • Это уже давно пора, сдать в архив. That's ready for the scrap heap.

-ся to surrender. Отряд сдался после короткого боя. The detachment surrendered after a short battle. • to give in. Она долго не соглашалась, но, наконец, сдалась на наши просьбы. She wouldn't agree for a long time, but finally did give in to our coaxing.

сдача surrender. Мы требовали безусловной сдачи. We demanded unconditional surrender. • change. Получите сдачу. Here's your change. • turning in. План сдачи хлеба был выполнен нами до срока. The schedule for turning in our grain was met before the deadline. □ *Вы с ним поосторожнее, он может и сдачи дать. Watch your step with him; he can hit back.

сделать (pct of делать) to make. Из чего это сделано? What's this made of? • Мы можем вам сделать костюм на заказ. We can make you a suit to order. — Вы сегодня не сделали ни одной ошибки. You haven't made a single mistake today. — Он из меня человека сделал! He's made a human being out of me. • to do. Я сделаю всё, что смогу. I'll do my best. — Сделайте это, пожалуйста, поскорее. Do it quickly, please. — Дело сделано. It's done. — Сделайте мне одолжение. Do me a favor. □ (no dur) *Сказано-сделано. No sooner said than done. • Мне пришлось ему сделать выговор. I had to take him to task. • Нам пришлось сделать большой конец пешком. We had to go a long distance on foot. • Она сделала себе новое платье на зиму. She ordered herself a new dress for winter. • Вот, подумаешь, сделали открытие! You don't think you made a discovery, do you?

сдельный. □ сдельная оплата труда piecework pay. сдельная работа piecework. Это сдельная работа. This is piecework.

сдельно piecework. Они работают сдельно. They do piecework.

сдельщина piecework. На этом заводе уже давно введена сдельщина. Piecework was introduced long ago in this factory.

сдержанный (/ppp of сдержать/; adv -нно) reserved. Он очень сдержанный человек. He's a very reserved person. • pent-up. Он весь дрожал от сдержанной ярости. He was shaking all over with pent-up rage. □ сдержанно reserved. Критика отнеслась очень сдержанно к новой пьесе. The critics were very reserved in their praise of the new play. • mild. Я считаю, что вы ответили очень сдержанно на его оскорбительные слова. I thought you answered his insulting remark in a rather mild fashion.

сдержать (сдержу, сдержит; pct of сдерживать) to hold back. Она не могла сдержать слёз. She couldn't hold back her tears. — Я с трудом сдержал лошадей. I held the horses back with difficulty. • to keep. Вы не сдержали слова. You didn't keep your word.

-ся to keep in. Я не сдержался и всё ему рассказал. I couldn't keep it in, so I told him everything. • to restrain oneself; Она хотела ему ответить, но сдержалась. She wanted to answer him, but restrained herself.

сдерживать (dur of сдержать).

сеанс show. Когда начинается последний сеанс в кино? When does the last show begin at the movies? □ Ещё два сеанса, и портрет будет окончен. Two more sittings and the portrait will be finished.

себестоимость (F) cost. Эти товары продаются по себестоимости. These goods sell at cost. • cost of production. Какова себестоимость тонны чугунного литья на вашем заводе? What's the cost of production of a ton of iron castings in your factory?

себя (a, g/no n form/d, l себе, i собой, собою, §21) myself, yourself, himself, herself, etc. В последнее время я сам себя не узнаю. I hardly know myself these days. — Я беру это на себя. I'm taking it upon myself. — Уберите его, не то я за себя не ручаюсь. Take him away, or I won't answer for myself. — Я этого себе никогда не прощу. I'll never forgive myself for that. — Вы себя совсем не жалеете. You don't spare yourself at all, do you? — Не мучьте себя зря — всё равно дела не поправишь. Stop aggravating yourself; there's nothing you can do about it. — Вы совсем за собой не следите. You don't take care of yourself at all. — Теперь расскажите мне всё о себе. Now tell me all about yourself. — В этой работе вы можете себя показать. You can show yourself to best advantage in this work. □ вне себя beside oneself. Он был вне себя от радости. He was beside himself with joy. выходить из себя to lose one's temper. Не выходите из себя по пустякам. Don't lose your temper over nothing. о себе of (from) me, you, him, her, etc. Он очень долго не давал нам о себе знать. We haven't heard from him in a long time. прийти в себя to come to. Ей стало дурно, но теперь она уже пришла в себя. She fainted, but she's already come to. при себе with me, you, him, us, etc. Сколько у вас при себе денег? How much money do you have with you? про себя to oneself. Он что-то пробормотал про себя. He muttered something to himself.


text:
The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy (1729)/Book 2/Section 1

If a body is resisted in the ratio of its velocity, the motion lost by resistance is as the space gone over in its motion.

or since the motion lost in each equal particle of time is as the velocity, that is, as the particle of space gone over; thesis by composition, the motion lost in the whole time will be as the whole space gone over. Q.E.D.

Corollary. Therefore if the body, destitute of all gravity, move by its innate force only in free spaces, and there be given both its whole motion at the beginning, and also the motion remaining after some part of the way is gone over; there will be given also the whole space which the body can describe in an infinite time. For that space will be to the space now described, as the whole motion at the beginning is to the part lost of that motion.

Lemma I. Quantities proportional to their differences are continually proportional.

Let A be to A-B as B to B-C and C to C-D, &c. and, by conversion, A will be to B as B to C and C to D &c. Q.E.D.

If a body is resisted in the ratio of its velocity, and moves, by its vis insita only, through a similar medium, and the times be taken equal; the velocities in the beginning of each of the times are in a geometrical progression, and the spaces described in each of the times are as the velocities.

Case 1. Let the time be divided into equal particles; and if at the very beginning of each particle we suppose the resistance to act with one single impulse which is as the velocity; the decrement of the velocity in each of the particles of time will be as the same velocity. Therefore the velocities are proportional to their differences, and therefore (by Lemma 1. Book 2.) continually proportional. Therefore if out of an equal number of particles there be compounded any equal portions of time, the velocities at the beginning of those times will be as terms in a continued progression, which are taken by intervals, omitting every where an equal number of intermediate terms. But the ratio's of these terms are compounded of the equal ratio's of the intermediate terms equally repeated; and therefore are equal. Therefore the velocities, being proportional to those terms, are in geometrical progression. Let those equal particles of time be diminished, and their number increased in infinitum, so that the impulse of resistance may become continual; and the velocities at the beginnings of equal times, always continually proportional, will be also in this case continually proportional. Q.E.D.

Case 2. And, by division, the differences of the velocities, that is, the parts of the velocities lost in each of the times, are as the wholes: But the spaces described in each of the times arc as the lost parts of the velocities, (by Proposition. 1. Book 2.) and therefore are also as the wholes. Q.E.D.

Corollary. Hence if to the rectangular asymptotes AC, CH, the Hyperbola BG is described, and AB, DG be drawn perpendicular to the asymptote AC, and both the velocity of the body, and the resistance of the medium, at the very beginning of the motion, be express'd by any given line AC, and after some time is elapsed, by the indefinite line DC; the time may be express'd by the area ABGD, and the space described in that time by the line AD. For if that area, by the motion of the point D, be uniformly increased in the same manner as the time, the right line DC will decrease in a geometrical ratio in the same manner as the velocity, and the parts of the right hne AC, described, in equal times, will decrease in the same ratio.

To define the motion of a body which, in a similar medium, ascends or descends in a right line, and is resisted in the ratio of its velocity, and acted upon by an uniform force of gravity.

The body ascending, let the gravity be expounded by any given rectangle BACH; and the resistance of the medium, at the beginning of the ascent, by the rectangle BADE, taken on the contrary side of the right line AB. Through the point B, with the rectangular asymptotes AC, CH, describe an Hyperbola, cutting the perpendiculars DE, de, in G,g; and the body ascending will in the time DGgd describe the space EGge; in the time DGBA, the space of the whole ascent EGB; in the time ABKI, the space of descent BFK; and in the time IKki the space of descent KFfk; and the velocities of the bodies (proportional to the resistance of the medium) in these periods of time, will be ABED, ABed,o, ABFI, ABfi respectively; and the greatest velocity which the body can acquire by descending, will be BACH.

For let the rectangle BACH be resolved into innumerable rectangles Ak, Kl, Lm, Mn, &c. which shall be as the increments of the velocities produced in so many equal times; then will o, Ak, Al, Am, An, &c. be as the whole velocities, and therefore (by supposition) as the resistances of the medium in the beginning of each of the equal times. Make AC to AK, or ABHC to ABkK as the force of gravity to the resistance in the beginning of the second time; then from the force of gravity subduct the resistances, and ABHC, KkHC, LlHC, MmHC, &c. will be as the absolute forces with which the body is acted upon in the beginning of each of the times, and therefore (by Law 2) as the increments of the velocities, that is, as the rectangles Ak, Kl, Lm, A1n, &c. and therefore (by Lemma 1. Book 2.) in a geometrical progression. Therefore if the right lines Kk, Lk, Mm, Nn, &c. are produced so as to meet the Hyperbola in q, r, s, t, &c. the areas ABqK, KqrL, LrsM, MstN, &c. will be equal, and therefore analogous to the equal times and equal gravitating forces. But the area ABqK (by Corollary 3. Lemma 7 & 8. Book 1.) is to the area Bkq as Kq to ½kq, or AC to ½AK, that is as the force of gravity to the resistance in the middle of the first time. And by the like reasoning the areas qKLr, rLMs, sMNt, &c. are to the areas qklr, rlms, smnt, &c. as the gravitating forces to the resistances in the middle of the second, third, fourth time, and so on. Therefore since the equal areas BAKq, qKLr, rLMs, sMNt, &c. are analogous to the gravitating forces, the areas Bkq, qklr, rlms, smnt, &c. will be analogous to the resistances in the middle of each of the times, that is (by supposition) to the velocities, and so to the spaces described. Take the sums of the analogous quantities, and the areas Bkq, Blr, Bms, Bnt, &c. will be analogous to the whole spaces described; and also the areas ABqK, ABrL, ABsM, ABtN, &c to the times. Therefore the body, in descending, will in any time ABrL, describe the space Blr, and in the time LrtN the space rlnt. Q.E.D. And the like demonstration holds in ascending motion.

Corollary 1. Therefore the greatest velocity that the body can acquire by falling, is to the velocity acquired in any given time, as the given force of gravity which perpetually acts upon it, to the resisting force which opposes it at the end of that time.

Corollary 2. But the time being augmented in an arithmetical progression, the sum of that greatest velocity and the velocity in the ascent, and also their difference in the descent, decreases in a geometrical progression.

Corollary 3. Also the differences of the spaces, which are described in equal differences of the times, decrease in the same geometrical progression.

Corollary 4. The space described by the body is the difference of two spaces, whereof one is as the time taken from the beginning of the descent, and the other as the velocity; which [spaces] also at the beginning of the descent are equal among themselves.

Supposing tke force of gravity in any similar medium to be uniform, and to tend perpendicularly to the plane of the horizon; to define the motion of a projectile therein, which suffers resistance proportional to its velocity.

Let the projectile go from any place D in the direction of any right line DP, and let its velocity at the beginning of the motion be expounded by the length DP. From the point P let fall the perpendicular PC on the horizontal line DC, and cut DC in A, so that DA may be to AC as the resistance of the medium arising from its motion upwards at the beginning, to the force of gravity: or (which comes to the same) so that the rectangle under DA and DP may be to that under AC and CP, as the whole resistance at the beginning of the motion to the force of gravity. With the asymptotes DC, CP describe any Hyperbola GTBS cutting the perpendiculars DG, AB in G and B; compleat the parallelogram DGKC, and let its side GK cut AB in Q. Take aline N in the same ratio to QB as DC is in to CP; and from any point R of the right line DC, erect RT perpendicular to it, meeting the Hyperbola in T, and the right lines EH, GK, DP in I, t, and V; in that perpendicular take Vr equal to tGT/N, or, which is the same thing, take Rr equal to GTIE/N; and the projectile in the time DRTG will arrive at the point r, describing the curve line DraF, the locus of the point r; thence it will come to its greatest height a in the perpendicular AB; and afterwards ever approach to the asymptote PC. And its velocity in any point r will be as the tangent rL to the curve. Q.E.I.

For N is to QB as DC to CP or DR to RV, and therefore RV is equal to DR x QB / N and Rr (that is, RV-Vr, or (DR x QB - tGT)/N ) is equal to (DR x AB - RDGT) / N. Now let the time be expounded by the area RDGT, and (by Laws Corollary 2.) distinguish the motion of the body into two others, one of ascent, the other lateral. And since the resistance is as the motion, let that also be distinguished into two parts proportional and contrary to the parts of the motion: and therefore the length described by the lateral motion, will be (by Proposition 2. Book 2.) as the line DR, and the height (by Proposition 3. Book 2.) as the area DR x AB - RDGT, that is, as the line Rr. But in the very beginning of the motion the area RDGT is equal to the rectangle DR x AQ, and therefore that line Rr ( or (DR x AB - DR x AQ) / N ) will then be to DR as AB - AQ or QB to N, that is, as CP to DC; and therefore as the motion upwards to the motion lengthwise at the beginning. Since therefore Rr is always as the height, and DR always as the length, and Rr is to at the beginning, as the height to the length: it follows, that Rr is always to DR as the height to the length; and therefore that the body will move in the line DraF, which is the locus of the point r. Q.E.D.

Corollary 1. Therefore Rr is equal to DR x AB / N - RDGT / N; and therefore if RT be produced to X, so that RX may be equal to DR x AB / N, that is, if the parallelogram ACPT be compleated, and DT cutting CP in Z be drawn, and RT be produced till it meets DT in X; Xr will be equal to RDGT / N, and therefore proportional to the time.

Corollary 2. Whence if innumerable lines CR, or, which is the same, innumerable lines ZX, be taken in a geometrical progression; there will be as many lines Xr in an arithmetical progression. And hence the curve DraF is easily delineated by the Table of Logarithms.

Corollary 3. If a Parabola be constructed to the vertex D, and the diameter DG, produced downwards, and its latus rectum is to 2 DP as the whole resistance at the beginning of the motion to the gravitating force: the velocity with which the body ought to go from the place D, in the direction of the right line DP, so as in an uniform resisting medium to describe the curve DraF, will be the same as that with which it ought to go from the same place D, in the direction of the same right line DP, so as to describe a Parabola in a non-resisting medium. For the latus rectum of this Parabola, at the very beginning of the motion, is DV²/Vr; and Vr is tGT / N or DR x Tt / 2N. But a right line, which, if drawn, would touch the Hyperbola GTS in G, is parallel to DK, and therefore Tt is CK x DR / DC, and N is QB x DC / CP: And therefore Vr is equal to (DR² x CK x CP) / (2DC² x QB) that is, (because DR and DC, DV and DP are proportionals) to (DV² x CK x CP) / (2DP² x QB); and the latus rectum DV² / Vr comes out (2DP² x QB) / (CK x CP), that is, (because QB and CK, DA and AC are proportional) (2DP² x DA) / (AC x CP), and therefore is to 2DP, as DP x DA to CP x AC; that is, as the resistance to the gravity. Q.E.D.

Corollary 4. Hence if a body be projected from any place D, with a given velocity, in the direction of a right line DP given by position; and the resistance of the medium, at the beginning of the motion, be given: the curve DraF, which that body will describe, may be found. For the velocity being given, the latus rectum of the parabola is given, as is well known. And taking 2DP to that latus rectum, as the force of gravity to the resisting force, DP is also given. Then cutting DC in A, so that CP x AC may be to DP x DA in the same ratio of the gravity to the resistance, the point A will be given. And hence the curve DraF is also given.

Corollary 5. And on the contrary, if the curve DraF be given, there will be given both the velocity of the body, and the resistance of the medium in each of the places r. For the ratio of CP x AC to DP x DA being given, there is given both the resistance of the medium at the beginning of the motion, and the latus rectum of the parabola; and thence the velocity at the beginning of the motion is given also. Then from the length of the tangent rL, there is given both the velocity proportional to it, and the resistance proportional to the velocity in any place r.

Corollary 6. But since the length 2DP is to the latus rectum of the parabola as the gravity to the resistance in D; and, from the velocity augmented, the resistance is augmented in the same ratio, but the latus rectum of the parabola is augmented in the duplicate of that ratio; it is plain that the length 2DP is augmented in that simple ratio only; and is therefore always proportional to the velocity; nor will it be augmented or diminished by the change of the angle CDP, unless the velocity be also changed.

Corollary 7. Hence appears the method of determining the curve DraF, nearly, from the phenomena, and thence collecting the resistance and velocity with which the body is projected. Let two similar and equal bodies be projected with the same velocity, from the place D, in different angles CDP, CDp; and let the places F, f, where they fall upon the horizontal plane DC, be known. Then taking any length for DP or Dp, suppose the resistance in D to be to the gravity in any ratio whatsoever, and let that ratio be expounded by any length SM. Then by computation, from that assumed length DP, find the lengths DF, Df; and from the ratio Ff / DF, found by calculation, subduct the same ratio as found by experiment; and let the difference be expounded by the perpendicular MN. Repeat the same a second and a third time, by assuming always a new ratio SM of the resistance to the gravity, and collecting a new difference MN. Draw the affirmative differences on one side of the right line SM, and the negative on the other side; and through the points N, N, N draw a regular curve NNN, cutting the right line SMMM in X, and SX will be the true ratio of the resistance to the gravity, which was to be found. From this ratio the length DF is to be collected by calculation; and a length, which is to the assumed length DP, as the length DF known by experiment to the length DF just now found, will be the true length DP. This being known, you will have both the curve line DraF which the body describes, and also the velocity and resistance of the body in each place.

But yet that the resistance of bodies is in the ratio of the velocity, is more a mathematical hypothesis than a physical one. In mediums void of all tenacity, the resistances made to bodies are in the duplicate ratio of the velocities. For by the action of a swifter body, a greater motion, in proportion to a greater velocity, is communicated to the same quantity of the medium, in a less time; and in an equal time, by reason os a greater quantity of the disturbed medium, a motion is communicated in the duplicate ratio greater; and the resistance (by Law 2 and 3) is as the motion communicated. Let us therefore see what motions arise from this law of resistance.