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Page:The American review - a Whig journal of politics, literature, art, and science (1845).djvu/127

 THE

OF

. I.

THE RESULT OF THE ELECTION.

VICTRIX CAUSA DIIS PLACUIT, SED VICTA CATONI.—Lucan.

serious alarm for the national welfare, swallowing up, as it were, all inferior regrets of party defeat and personal chagrin, with which the great Whig Party throughout the whole Union look back upon the result of the Presidential Election, is but consistent with the grave importance which, with one consent, they had openly and earnestly attributed to the mighty contest when impending. It evinces, at once, the sincerity of our opinions respecting the dignity of the crisis, justifies the magnitude of the preparations which we set on foot to achieve its prosperous issue. It teaches, that the solemnity of the juncture was neither the dream of an inflamed imagination, nor the stale trick of political bankruptcy—that the enthusiasm which stimulated our exerting was no mountebank extravagance, and the patriotism which sustained our labors was neither a cunning device to delude others, nor an illusion which deceived ourselves.

We are aware that the earnest sorrow which pervades the feelings of the whole mass of the defeated party, and gves a severe and almost gloomy tone to every public and private expression of them, while it is extremely annoying to the self-satisfaction of the victors, is utterly unintelligible to their comprehension. Trained in a discipline which deems politics an arena, not a battle-field, deals with its conflicts as mere prolusions of arms, and not an honest and serious warfare-bred in a school of absolute political scepticism, they, one and all, leaders and followers, masters and disciples regard the late struggle as simply a game of mingled skill and chance, in which "the spoils" were the highest stake at risk, and look upon the result as one which, while it gives the winner leave to laugh, neither justifies nor excuses any depth of grief on the part of the loser. It fills them, then, both with amazement and vexation, that so vast a body of their fellow citizens, in spite of the decorous moderation with which they bear their success, and when, as they flippantly express it, "the excitement being over, there should be a renewal of good feeling"—should persist in imparting to their triumphal shows the aspect of funereal processions and in shadowing the glories of their party victory with the dark drapery of national calamity.

That we have expressed the prevalent feelings of the Whig party at the result of the election, without exaggeration, we appeal to the consciousness and observation of every one of our readers. When the last ray of hope had faded out of our hearts, regret for the past, and foreboding for the future, did indeed take possession of us: they were natural, they were manly emotions, and from friend or foe we cared not to conceal them. But the lapse of time has somewhat blunted the keenness of these impressions, and a calm contemplation of our actual position greedy assuaged their bitterness. The matter in hand does not require us to

VOL. I.—NO. II8


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Page:Dictionary of National Biography volume 35.djvu/35

 guage, classical allusions, and occasionally dialectic peculiarities, make him one of the hardest to translate of all the highland bards. Patriotism is his keynote. ‘Hè an clò dubh. … B'fearr leam am breacan’ is a spirited defence of the then proscribed highland dress. In descriptions of natural scenery he must be held inferior to Duncan Ban McIntyre [q. v.], but probably to him alone among Gaelic poets. His ‘Allt an t'Siucair’ is an attractive description of the poet's walk along the Sugar brook. In the ‘Moladh Moraig,’ a love song, he is passionate and tender. His luxuriance of epithet, however, has tempted some of his imitators to subordinate sense to sound, and in this respect his influence has been unfortunate. Besides the Edinburgh edition of 1751, there have been published reproductions of the poems in Glasgow in 1764, 1802, 1835, 1839, 1851. A seventh edition appeared at Edinburgh in 1874.

 MACDONALD, ALEXANDER (1736–1791), Scottish catholic prelate, born in the island of Uist in 1736, was son of the laird of Bornish. He entered the Scots College at Rome 20 Jan. 1754, was ordained priest in 1764, and left the college 27 April 1765 for the mission in Scotland. He was stationed in the island of Barra, where he remained till 1760. On the death of Bishop John Macdonald (1727-1779) [q. v.] he was appointed to succeed him as vicar-apostolic of the highland district. The briefs were dated 1779, and he was consecrated by Bishop Hay at Scalan, 12 March 1780, with the title of Bishop of Polemunium. near Trebizond, in partibus. He died at Samalaman on 9 Sept. 1791, and was succeeded in the vicariate-apostolic by John Chisholm [q. v.]

 MACDONALD, ALEXANDER (1755–1837), Gaelic scholar, born in the west highlands in 1755, was received at the age of eleven into the Roman catholic seminary of Bourblach, in North Morar, by Bishop Hugh Macdonald [q.v.] He was afterwards sent to the Scots College in Rome, where he was ordained priest by dispensation at the age of twenty-three. In 1782 he returned to Scotland, and being a good Gaelic scholar, he was placed at Balloch, near Drummond Castle, Perthshire, to attend the highlanders resident in that mission. He was appointed missionary of the Gaelic chapel in Blackfriars' Wynd, Edinburgh, in 1792. Afterwards he returned to Balloch, and eventually he built a chapel at Crieff, where he passed the remainder of his life, except for a short interval in 1827-8, when be took charge of the congregation at Leith. He died at Crieff on 13 July 1837.

He was an admirable classical and Gaelic scholar, and was employed to give the Latin significations of the words of two letters of the alphabet in the 'Dictionarium Scoto-Celticum: a Dictionary of the Gaelic Language,' published under the direction of the Highland Society of Scotland, 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1828, 4to. He himself published 'Phingaleis, sive Hibernia Liberata, Epicum Ossianis Poema, e Celtico sermone conversum, tribus præmissis disputationibus, et subsequentibus notis,' Edinburgh, 1820, 8to, dedicated to Augustus Frederick, duke of Sussex.  MACDONALD, ALEXANDER (1791?–1850), Scottish antiquary, was at an early period employed in the Register House, Edinburgh, where he assisted Thomas Thomson [q.v.] in the preparation of the ‘Acts of the Scottish Parliament’ and other works. In 1824 he was elected a member of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, and in 1837 joint curator of the society's museum. In 1836 he was appointed principal keeper of the register of deeds and probate writs. He died at Edinburgh on 23 Dec. 1850, aged about fifty-nine. Macdonald supplied a considerable amount of the material for Sir Walter Scott's notes to the ‘Waverley Novels.’ It is, however, as editor of the publications of the Maitland Club that he rendered most service to historical research. The volumes edited by him are: 1. ‘The Register of Ministers, Exhorters, and Readers of the Church of Scotland,’ 1830. 2. ‘Maitland Club Miscellany,’ vols. i. and ii. 1834. 3. Adam Blackwood's ‘History of Mary, Queen of Scots,’ 1834. 4. ‘Report on the State of certain Parishes in Scotland,’ 1835. 5. ‘Letters to King James the Sixth,’ 1835. 6. ‘Papers relative to the Royal Guard of Scottish Archers in France,’ 1835. 7. ‘Letters to the Argyll Family,’ 1839. For the Bannatyne Club he also edited ‘Registrum Honoris de Morton,’ 1853.

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


text:
The New International Encyclopædia/Lang, Louis

LANG, (1814-93). A German-American painter, born at Waldsee, Württemberg. Already a pastel portraitist of some reputation, he went to Paris in 1834, and afterwards studied at Stuttgart. In 1838 he came to America, and in 1852 was made an Academician. His works include: “Asleep in Prayer” (1869), “Landing of the Market Boat at Capri,” “Mary, Queen of Scots,” and “Cinderella.”


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 MACDONALD, ANDREW (1755?–1790), dramatist and verse-writer, son of George Donald, gardener, was born at Leith about 1755. Educated in Leith and at Edinburgh University, he received deacon's orders in the Scottish episcopal church in 1775, when he lengthened his surname to Macdonald. After being tutor for a year at Gask, Perthshire, he was appointed in 1777 to a charge in Glasgow. Although apparently a good preacher, he met with little success, and an imprudent marriage injured his prospects. Resigning his charge, he settled in Edinburgh as a literary man, and ultimately tried his fortune in London. Here his prospects brightened. His tragedy called 'Vimonds,' which had been successfully played in Edinburgh, with a prologue by Henry Mackenzie, was accepted by Colman, and was produced at the Haymarket on 5 Sept. 1787 (, Account of the Stage, vi. 455). It proved popular, and a repetition of the success next year was encouraging, but Macdonald's other dramatic efforts were failures. Adopting the pseudonym of 'Matthew Bramble,' Macdonald amused London for some time with poetical burlesques, cleverly modelled on 'Peter Pindar' (cf., Calamities of Author's). Macdonald's health failed very suddenly, and he died in Kentish Town, London, 22 Aug. 1790, leaving his widow and a child destitute.

In 1782 Macdonald published 'Velina, a Poetical Fragment'—a clever piece in Spenserian stanza—which was followed in 1783 byan unsuccessful novel, 'The Independent.' Besides ' Vimonda,' published in 1768, on which his dramatic reputation rests, he left an unfinished tragedy, 'The Fair Apostate,' an opera, 'Love and Loyalty,' a comedy, 'Princess of Tarento,' various 'Probationary Odes for the Laureateship,' kc. A posthumous volume of sermons, 1790, secured some popularity, and Macdonald's 'Miscellaneous works,' including all his known writings, appeared in 1791.

 MACDONALD, ANGUS (1834–1886), medical writer, was of humble Aberdeen family. At the age of nineteen he obtained a bursary at King's College, Aberdeen, where he read divinity for a year with the intention of becoming a minister. Proceeding, however, to Edinburgh, where the medical school was then at its zenith, he turned to the study of medicine, and in 1801 graduated M.D. Settling in practice at Edinburgh, he became lecturer at Minto House, afterwards at Surgeons' Hall, and physician and clinical lecturer on the diseases of women in the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, physician to the Royal Maternity Hospital, Edinburgh, and fellow of the Royal College of Physicians there, he died on 10 Feb. 18S6, leaving a widow, two daughters, and five sons. He was author of 'The Bearings of Chronic Diseases of the Heart upon Pregnancy,' &c., London. 1878, and edited Jackson's 'Notebook of Materia Medica,' Edinburgh, 1871.

 MACDONALD, ARCHIBALD (1736–1814), author, born in 1736, was a Benedictine monk, and for many years was Roman catholic pastor of Seal Street Chapel, Liverpool. He published a defence of the authenticity of Macpherson's poems of Ossian against the attacks of [q. v.], and added some translations by himself of the lesser poems of Ossian, 1805. 'Fingal rendered into Verse' appeared in 1808, and Macdonald also published 'Moral Essays.' He died at Woolton in September 1814.

 MACDONALD, ARCHIBALD (1747–1826), judge, the third and posthumous son of Sir Alexander Macdonald, seventh baronet of Sleat in the island of Skye, by his second wife, Lady Margaret., youngest daughter of, ninth earl of Eglinton [q. v.], was born at Armidale Castle in the island of Skye on 13 July 1747. He was educated at Westminster School, where on 14 May 1760 he was admitted on the foundation, and on 30 May 1764 was elected to a studentship of Christ Church, Oxford. Thence he matriculated 20 June 1764, and graduated B.A. 20 April 1768, M.A. 30 June 1772. He was admitted a student of Lincoln's Inn on 13 Nov. 1765, and was called to the bar in Michaelmas term 1770. Owing to his connection with Scotland, Macdonald was frequently employed at the outset of his legal career as a junior in Scottish appeals to the House of Lords (see, Reports, vol. ii.) In May 1775 he was engaged on behalf of the defendant in the Grenada case before Lord-chief justice Mansfield (, State Trials, xx. 287-306), and in July 1778 be appeared as one of the counsel for the prosecution in the Greenwich Hospital case (ib. xxi, 61-5). In Hilary term 1778 he was made a king's counsel, and in 1780 was appointed one of the justices of the grand sessions in Wales. On 7 April 1764 he succeeded Richard Pepper Arden


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( 103 )

An old song. In a letter to Thomson, dated September, 1794, Burns says:—"Do you know a droll Scots song, more famous for its humour than delicacy, called 'The Grey Goose and the Gled.' Mr. Clark took down the notes (such as they are) at my request, which I shall give with some decenter verses to Johnson. Mr. Clark says that the tune is positively an old chant of the Romish Church, which corroborates the old tradition that at the Reformation the Reformers burlesqued much of the old church music with setting them to bawdy verses. As a further proof, the common name for this song is 'Cumnock Psalms.' As there can be no harm in transcribing a stanza of a psalm, I shall give you two or three; possibly the song is new to you:—

So much for the psalmody of Cumnock."

As I looked o'er yon castle wa', I spied a grey goose and a gled; They had a feight between them twa, An' O, as their twa hurdies gaed.

Wi' a hey ding it in, an' a how ding it in, An' a hey ding it in, it's lang to-day. Fal lary tele, tale, lary tale, Fal lary tal, lal, lary tay.

She heav'd up and he strack down, Between them twa they made a m—w; And ilka fart that the carlin gae. It's four o' them wad filled a bowe.

Temper your tail the carle cried, Temper your tale by Venus' law; Gird hame your gear, gudeman, she cried, Wha the deil can hinder the wind tae blaw.

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( 104 )  For were ye on my saddle set, An' were ye weel girt in my gear, Gin the wind o' my a—e blaw ye out o' my c—t, Ye'll never be reckoned a man o' weir.

He placed his Jacob whare she did piss, An' his b—ks whare the wind did blaw. And he grippet her fast by the gushet o' her a—e, An' he gae her c—t the common law.

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text: Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Langerfeldt, Theodore Otto


text:
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Page:Indiscretions of Archie.djvu/15

SAY, laddie!" said Archie.

"Sir?" replied the desk-clerk alertly. All the employés of the Hotel Cosmopolis were alert. It was one of the things on which Mr. Daniel Brewster, the proprietor, insisted. And as he was always wandering about the lobby of the hotel keeping a personal eye on affairs, it was never safe to relax.

"I want to see the manager."

"Is there anything I could do, sir?"

Archie looked at him doubtfully.

"Well, as a matter of fact, my dear old desk-clerk," he said, "I want to kick up a fearful row, and it hardly seems fair to lug you into it. Why you, I mean to say? The blighter whose head I want on a charger is the bally manager."

At this point a massive, grey-haired man, who had been standing close by, gazing on the lobby with an air of restrained severity, as if daring it to start anything, joined in the conversation.

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 "I am the manager," he said.

His eye was cold and hostile. Others, it seemed to say, might like Archie Moffam, but not he. Daniel Brewster was bristling for combat. What he had overheard had shocked him to the core of his being. The Hotel Cosmopolis was his own private, personal property, and the thing dearest to him in the world, after his daughter Lucille. He prided himself on the fact that his hotel was not like other New York hotels, which were run by impersonal companies and shareholders and boards of directors, and consequently lacked the paternal touch which made the Cosmopolis what it was. At other hotels things went wrong, and clients complained. At the Cosmopolis things never went wrong, because he was on the spot to see that they didn't, and as a result clients never complained. Yet here was this long, thin, string-bean of an Englishman actually registering annoyance and dissatisfaction before his very eyes.

"What is your complaint?" he enquired frigidly.

Archie attached himself to the top button of Mr. Brewster's coat, and was immediately dislodged by an irritable jerk of the other's substantial body.

"Listen, old thing! I came over to this country to nose about in search of a job, because there doesn't seem what you might call a general demand for my services in England. Directly I was demobbed, the family started talking about the Land of Opportunity and shot me on to a liner. The idea was that I might get hold of something in America"

He got hold of Mr. Brewster's coat-button, and was again shaken off.

"Between ourselves, I've never done anything much

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 in England, and I fancy the family were getting a bit fed. At any rate, they sent me over here"

Mr. Brewster disentangled himself for the third time.

"I would prefer to postpone the story of your life," he said coldly, "and be informed what is your specific complaint against the Hotel Cosmopolis."

"Of course, yes. The jolly old hotel. I'm coming to that. Well, it was like this. A chappie on the boat told me that this was the best place to stop at in New York"

"He was quite right," said Mr. Brewster.

"Was he, by Jove! Well, all I can say, then, is that the other New York hotels must be pretty mouldy, if this is the best of the lot! I took a room here last night," said Archie, quivering with self-pity, "and there was a beastly tap outside somewhere which went drip-drip-drip all night and kept me awake."

Mr. Brewster's annoyance deepened. He felt that a chink had been found in his armour. Not even the most paternal hotel-proprietor can keep an eye on every tap in his establishment.

"Drip-drip-drip!" repeated Archie firmly. "And I put my boots outside the door when I went to bed, and this morning they hadn't been touched. I give you my solemn word! Not touched."

"Naturally," said Mr. Brewster. "My employés are honest"

"But I wanted them cleaned, dash it!"

"There is a shoe-shining parlour in the basement. At the Cosmopolis shoes left outside bedroom doors are not cleaned."

"Then I think the Cosmopolis is a bally rotten hotel!"

Mr. Brewster's compact frame quivered. The

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14 insult had been offered. Question the legitimacy of Mr. Brewster's parentage, knock Mr. Brewster down and walk on his face with spiked shoes, and you did not irremediably close all avenues to a peaceful settlement. But make a remark like that about his hotel, and war was definitely declared.

"In that case," he said, stiffening, "I must ask you to give up your room."

"I'm going to give it up! I wouldn't stay in the bally place another minute."

Mr. Brewster walked away, and Archie charged round to the cashier's desk to get his bill. It had been his intention in any case, though for dramatic purposes he concealed it from his adversary, to leave the hotel that morning. One of the letters of introduction which he had brought over from England had resulted in an invitation from a Mrs. van Tuyl to her house-party at Miami, and he had decided to go there at once.

"Well," mused Archie, on his way to the station, "one thing's certain. I'll never set foot in that bally place again!"

But nothing in this world is certain.

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text: Indiscretions of Archie

title: Indiscretions of Archie


text: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 1

title: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 1


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R. DANIEL BREWSTER sat in his luxurious suite at the Cosmopolis, smoking one of his admirable cigars and chatting with his old friend, Professor Binstead. A stranger who had only encountered Mr. Brewster in the lobby of the hotel would have been surprised at the appearance of his sitting-room, for it had none of the rugged simplicity which was the keynote of its owner's personal appearance. Daniel Brewster was a man with a hobby. He was what Parker, his valet, termed a connoozer. His educated taste in Art was one of the things which went to make the Cosmopolis different from and superior to other New York hotels. He had personally selected the tapestries in the dining-room and the various paintings throughout the building. And in his private capacity he was an enthusiastic collector of things which Professor Binstead, whose tastes lay in the same direction, would have stolen without a twinge of conscience if he could have got the chance.

The professor, a small man of middle age who wore tortoiseshell-rimmed spectacles, flitted covetously about the room, inspecting its treasures with a glistening eye. In a corner, Parker, a grave, lean individual, bent over the chafing-dish, in which he was preparing for his employer and his guest their simple lunch.

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16 "Brewster," said Professor Binstead, pausing at the mantelpiece.

Mr. Brewster looked up amiably. He was in placid mood to-day. Two weeks and more had passed since the meeting with Archie recorded in the previous chapter, and he had been able to dismiss that disturbing affair from his mind. Since then, everything had gone splendidly with Daniel Brewster, for he had just accomplished his ambition of the moment by completing the negotiations for the purchase of a site further down-town, on which he proposed to erect a new hotel. He liked building hotels. He had the Cosmopolis, his first-born, a summer hotel in the mountains, purchased in the previous year, and he was toying with the idea of running over to England and putting up another in London. That, however, would have to wait. Meanwhile, he would concentrate on this new one down-town. It had kept him busy and worried, arranging for securing the site; but his troubles were over now.

"Yes?" he said.

Professor Binstead had picked up a small china figure of delicate workmanship. It represented a warrior of pre-khaki days advancing with a spear upon some adversary who, judging from the contented expression on the warrior's face, was smaller than himself.

"Where did you get this?"

"That? Mawson, my agent, found it in a little shop on the east side."

"Where's the other? There ought to be another. These things go in pairs. They're valueless alone."

Mr. Brewster's brow clouded.

"I know that," he said shortly. "Mawson's looking

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 for the other one everywhere. If you happen across it, I give you carte blanche to buy it for me."

"It must be somewhere."

"Yes. If you find it, don't worry about the expense. I'll settle up, no matter what it is."

"I'll bear it in mind," said Professor Binstead. "It may cost you a lot of money. I suppose you know that."

"I told you I don't care what it costs."

"It's nice to be a millionaire," sighed Professor Binstead.

"Luncheon is served, sir," said Parker.

He had stationed himself in a statutesque pose behind Mr. Brewster's chair, when there was a knock at the door. He went to the door, and returned with a telegram.

"Telegram for you, sir."

Mr. Brewster nodded carelessly. The contents of the chafing-dish had justified the advance advertising of their odour, and he was too busy to be interrupted.

"Put it down. And you needn't wait, Parker."

"Very good, sir."

The valet withdrew, and Mr. Brewster resumed his lunch.

"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Professor Binstead, to whom a telegram was a telegram.

"It can wait. I get them all day long. I expect it's from Lucille, saying what train she's making."

"She returns to-day?"

"Yes. Been at Miami." Mr. Brewster, having dwelt at adequate length on the contents of the chafing-dish, adjusted his glasses and took up the envelope. "I shall be glad Great Godfrey!"

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 He sat staring at the telegram, his mouth open. His friend eyed him solicitously.

"No bad news, I hope?"

Mr. Brewster gurgled in a strangled way.

"Bad news? Bad? Here, read it for yourself."

Professor Binstead, one of the three most inquisitive men in New York, took the slip of paper with gratitude.

"'Returning New York to-day with darling Archie,'" he read. "'Lots of love from us both. Lucille.'" He gaped at his host. "Who is Archie?" he enquired.

"Who is Archie?" echoed Mr. Brewster helplessly. "Who is? That's just what I would like to know."

"'Darling Archie,'" murmured the professor, musing over the telegram. "'Returning to-day with darling Archie.' Strange!"

Mr. Brewster continued to stare before him. When you send your only daughter on a visit to Miami minus any entanglements and she mentions in a telegram that she has acquired a darling Archie, you are naturally startled. He rose from the table with a bound. It had occurred to him that by neglecting a careful study of his mail during the past week, as was his bad habit when busy, he had lost an opportunity of keeping abreast with current happenings. He recollected now that a letter had arrived from Lucille some time ago, and that he had put it away unopened till he should have leisure to read it. Lucille was a dear girl, he had felt, but her letters when on a vacation seldom contained anything that couldn't wait a few days for a reading. He sprang for his desk, rummaged among his papers, and found what he was seeking.

It was a long letter, and there was silence in the room

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Rh for some moments while he mastered its contents. Then he turned to the professor, breathing heavily.

"Good heavens!"

"Yes?" said Professor Binstead eagerly. "Yes?"

"Good Lord!"

"Well?"

"Good gracious!"

"What is it?" demanded the professor in an agony.

Mr. Brewster sat down again with a thud.

"She's married!"

"Married!"

"Married! To an Englishman!"

"Bless my soul!"

"She says," proceeded Mr. Brewster, referring to the letter again, "that they were both so much in love that they simply had to slip off and get married, and she hopes I won't be cross. Cross!" gasped Mr. Brewster, gazing wildly at his friend.

"Very disturbing!"

"Disturbing! You bet it's disturbing! I don't know anything about the fellow. Never heard of him in my life. She says he wanted a quiet wedding because he thought a fellow looked such a chump getting married! And I must love him, because he's all set to love me very much!"

"Extraordinary!"

Mr. Brewster put the letter down.

"An Englishman!"

"I have met some very agreeable Englishmen," said Professor Binstead.

"I don't like Englishmen," growled Mr. Brewster. "Parker's an Englishman."

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 "Your valet?"

"Yes. I believe he wears my shirts on the sly," said Mr. Brewster broodingly. "If I catch him! What would you do about this, Binstead?"

"Do?" The professor considered the point judicially. "Well, really, Brewster, I do not see that there is anything you can do. You must simply wait and meet the man. Perhaps he will turn out an admirable son-in-law."

"H'm!" Mr. Brewster declined to take an optimistic view. "But an Englishman, Binstead!" he said with pathos. "Why," he went on, memory suddenly stirring, "there was an Englishman at this hotel only a week or two ago who went about knocking it in a way that would have amazed you! Said it was a rotten place! My hotel!"

Professor Binstead clicked his tongue sympathetically. He understood his friend's warmth.

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text: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 2

title: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 2


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Executive Order 13605

By the authority vested in me as President by the Constitution and the laws of the United States of America, and in order to coordinate the efforts of Federal agencies responsible for overseeing the safe and responsible development of unconventional domestic natural gas resources and associated infrastructure and to help reduce our dependence on oil, it is hereby ordered as follows:

Barack Obama The White House, April 13, 2012. [FR Doc. 2012–9473 Filed 4–16–12; 3:00 pm] Billing Code 3295–F2–P

title: Executive Order 13605


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User:Inductiveload/ImageGreyscaler.js

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text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (d.1532)


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (1610?-1679)


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one of the dim walls of Christ Church, in Lexington, Kentucky, there hangs, framed in thin black wood, an old rectangular slab of marble. A legend sets forth that the tablet is in memory of the Reverend James Moore, first minister of Christ Church and President of Transylvania University, who departed this life in the year 1814, at the age of forty-nine. Just beneath runs the record that he was learned, liberal, amiable, and pious.

Save this concise but not unsatisfactory summary, little is now known touching the reverend gentleman. A search through other sources of information does, indeed, result in reclaiming certain facts. Thus, it appears that he was a Virginian, and that he came to Lexington in the year 1792—when Kentucky ceased to be a county of Virginia, and became a State. At first he was a candidate for the ministry of the Presbyterian


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (1627?-1685)


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text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (d.1736)


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text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (1715-1766)


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CHAP. IX cross borne before him as a banner, and the pictured image of Christ, his monks singing litanies and loudly supplicating their Lord for the king's and their own salvation. Knowledge, authority, supernatural power, were represented here. And how could the king fail to be struck by the nobility of Augustine's Gospel message, by its clear assurance, its love and terror, so overwhelming and convincing, so far outsoaring Ethelbert's heathen religion? To be sure, in Christian love and forgiveness lay some reversal of Saxon morality, for instance of the duty of revenge. But this was not prominent in the Christianity of the day; and experience was to show that only in isolated instances did this teaching impede the acceptance of the Gospel.

Ethelbert spoke these missionaries fair; accorded them a habitation in Canterbury with the privilege of celebrating their Christian rites and preaching to his people. There they abode, zealous in vigils and fastings, and preaching the word of life. Certain heathen men were converted, then the king, and then his folk in multitudes—the usual way. Under the direction of Gregory, Augustine proceeded with that combination of insistence, dignity, and tolerance, so well understood in the Roman Church. There was insistence upon the main doctrines and requirements of the Faith—upon the Roman Easter day and baptism, as against the practices of the British Church. Tolerance was shown respecting heathen fanes and sacrificial feastings; the fanes should be reconsecrated as Christian churches; the feasts should be continued in honour of the true God.

Besides zeal and knowledge and authority, miracles advanced Augustine's enterprise. To eliminate by any sweeping negation the miraculous element from the causes

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text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Brown, John (1735-1788)


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The New International Encyclopædia/Lang, Margaret Ruthven

LANG, (1867—). An American composer, born in Boston. She studied the piano with her father, B. J. Lang; the violin with Schmidt in Boston, Drechsler and Abel in Munich; composition with Gluth; and orchestration with Chadwick. She wrote a number of delightful songs, instrumental pieces, and several overtures, of which her Dramatic Overture was given by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and Witichis by the Chicago Orchestra.


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Talk:Chronographia/Chapter 61

This work has no source and has remained as an incomplete extract since 2008. It risks being deleted unless this can be fixed. However, I have found no ready source for "Chronographia" of "Chronology of Theophanes" at this time. - AdamBMorgan (talk) 21:58, 13 April 2012 (UTC)

title: Talk:Chronographia/Chapter 61


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The New International Encyclopædia/Langaha

LANGAHA, lȧn-gä'hȧ (Malagasy name). A brown tree-snake (Dryophis langaha) of Madagascar, about three feet long, having a prolonged, scaly snout, often flattened into a leaf-like organ half an inch in length. That it uses this purely as a tactile organ seems doubtful, as it is simply a tree-snake, with no hindrance to the ordinary use of the tongue. Some related snakes, like Trigops (see ), have similar fleshy tips; and one, ../Herpeton/ (q.v.), has two distinct tentacles; but this species is aquatic, and such tentacles would usefully serve the purpose of the tongue, not easily protrusible in the water. Stejneger believes that these appendages serve mainly to increase the opening of the mouth, and thus assist the snakes in capturing prey, as do the bristles about the mouth of fly-catching birds.


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T about the same moment that Professor Binstead was clicking his tongue in Mr. Brewster's sitting-room, Archie Moffam sat contemplating his bride in a drawing-room on the express from Miami. He was thinking that this was too good to be true. His brain had been in something of a whirl these last few days, but this was one thought that never failed to emerge clearly from the welter.

Mrs. Archie Moffam, née Lucille Brewster, was small and slender. She had a little animated face, set in a cloud of dark hair. She was so altogether perfect that Archie had frequently found himself compelled to take the marriage-certificate out of his inside pocket and study it furtively, to make himself realise that this miracle of good fortune had actually happened to him.

"Honestly, old bean—I mean, dear old thing,—I mean, darling," said Archie, "I can't believe it I"

"What?"

"What I mean is, I can't understand why you should have married a blighter like me."

Lucille's eyes opened. She squeezed his hand.

"Why, you're the most wonderful thing in the world, precious! Surely you know that?"

"Absolutely escaped my notice. Are you sure?"

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22 "Of course I'm sure! You wonder-child! Nobody could see you without loving you!"

Archie heaved an ecstatic sigh. Then a thought crossed his mind. It was a thought which frequently came to mar his bliss.

"I say, I wonder if your father will think that!"

"Of course he will!"

"We've rather sprung this, as it were, on the old lad," said Archie dubiously. "What sort of a man is your father?"

"Father's a darling, too."

"Rummy thing he should own that hotel," said Archie. "I had a frightful row with a blighter of a manager there just before I left for Miami. Your father ought to sack that chap. He was a blot on the landscape!"

It had been settled by Lucille during the journey that Archie should be broken gently to his father-in-law. That is to say, instead of bounding blithely into Mr. Brewster's presence hand in hand, the happy pair should separate for half an hour or so, Archie hanging around in the offing while Lucille saw her father and told him the whole story, or those chapters of it which she had omitted from her letter for want of space. Then, having impressed Mr. Brewster sufficiently with his luck in having acquired Archie for a son-in-law, she would lead him to where his bit of good fortune awaited him.

The programme worked out admirably in its earlier stages. When the two emerged from Mr. Brewster's room to meet Archie, Mr. Brewster's general idea was that fortune had smiled upon him in an almost unbelievable fashion and had presented him with a son-in-law who

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Rh combined in almost equal parts the more admirable characteristics of Apollo, Sir Galahad, and Marcus Aurelius. True, he had gathered in the course of the conversation that dear Archie had no occupation and no private means; but Mr. Brewster felt that a great-souled man like Archie didn't need them. You can't have everything, and Archie, according to Lucille's account, was practically a hundred per cent. man in soul, looks, manners, amiability, and breeding. These are the things that count. Mr. Brewster proceeded to the lobby in a glow of optimism and geniality.

Consequently, when he perceived Archie, he got a bit of a shock.

"Hullo-ullo-ullo!" said Archie, advancing happily.

"Archie, darling, this is father," said Lucille.

"Good Lord!" said Archie.

There was one of those silences. Mr. Brewster looked at Archie. Archie gazed at Mr. Brewster. Lucille, perceiving without understanding why that the big introduction scene had stubbed its toe on some unlooked-for obstacle, waited anxiously for enlightenment. Meanwhile, Archie continued to inspect Mr. Brewster, and Mr. Brewster continued to drink in Archie.

After an awkward pause of about three and a quarter minutes, Mr. Brewster swallowed once or twice, and finally spoke.

"Lu!"

"Yes, father?"

"Is this true?"

Lucille's grey eyes clouded over with perplexity and apprehension.

"True?"

"Have you really inflicted this—this on me for a

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24 ?" Mr. Brewster swallowed a few more times, Archie the while watching with a frozen fascination the rapid shimmying of his new relative's Adam's-apple. "Go away! I want to have a few words alone with this—this—wassyourdamname?" he demanded, in an overwrought manner, addressing Archie for the first time.

"I told you, father. It's Moom."

"Moom?"

"It's spelt M-o-f-f-a-m, but pronounced Moom."

"To rhyme," said Archie, helpfully, "with Bluffinghame."

"Lu," said Mr. Brewster, "run away! I want to speak to—to—to"

"You called me this before," said Archie.

"You aren't angry, father, dear?" said Lucille.

"Oh no! Oh no! I'm tickled to death!"

When his daughter had withdrawn, Mr. Brewster drew a long breath.

"Now, then!" he said.

"Bit embarrassing, all this, what!" said Archie, chattily. "I mean to say, having met before in less happy circs. and what not. Rum coincidence and so forth! How would it be to bury the jolly old hatchet—start a new life—forgive and forget—learn to love each other—and all that sort of rot? I'm game if you are. How do we go? Is it a bet?"

Mr. Brewster remained entirely unsoftened by this manly appeal to his better feelings.

"What the devil do you mean by marrying my daughter?"

Archie reflected.

"Well, it sort of happened, don't you know! You know

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Rh how these things are! Young yourself once, and all that. I was most frightfully in love, and Lu seemed to think it wouldn't be a bad scheme, and one thing led to another, and—well, there you are, don't you know!"

"And I suppose you think you've done pretty well for yourself?"

"Oh, absolutely! As far as I'm concerned, everything's topping! I've never felt so braced in my life!"

"Yes!" said Mr. Brewster, with bitterness. "I suppose, from your view-point, everything is 'topping.' You haven't a cent to your name, and you've managed to fool a rich man's daughter into marrying you. I suppose you looked me up in Bradstreet before committing yourself?"

This aspect of the matter had not struck Archie until this moment.

"I say!" he observed, with dismay. "I never looked at it like that before! I can see that, from your point of view, this must look like a bit of a wash-out!"

"How do you propose to support Lucille, anyway?"

Archie ran a finger round the inside of his collar. He felt embarrassed. His father-in-law was opening up all kinds of new lines of thought.

"Well, there, old bean," he admitted, frankly, "you rather have me!" He turned the matter over for a moment. "I had a sort of idea of, as it were, working, if you know what I mean."

"Working at what?"

"Now, there again you stump me somewhat! The general scheme was that I should kind of look round, you know, and nose about and buzz to and fro till something turned up. That was, broadly speaking, the notion!"

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 "And how did you suppose my daughter was to live while you were doing all this?

"Well, I think," said Archie, "I think we rather expected you to rally round a bit for the nonce!"

"I see! You expected to live on me?"

"Well, you put it a bit crudely, but—as far as I had mapped anything out—that was what you might call the general scheme of procedure. You don't think much of it, what? Yes? No?"

Mr. Brewster exploded.

"No! I do not think much of it! Good God! You go out of my hotel—my hotel—calling it all the names you could think of—roasting it to beat the band"

"Trifle hasty!" murmured Archie, apologetically. "Spoke without thinking. Dashed tap had gone drip-drip-drip all night—kept me awake—hadn't had breakfast—bygones be bygones!"

"Don't interrupt! I say, you go out of my hotel, knocking it as no one has ever knocked it since it was built, and you sneak straight off and marry my daughter without my knowledge."

"Did think of wiring for blessing. Slipped the old bean, somehow. You know how one forgets things!"

"And now you come back and calmly expect me to fling my arms round you and kiss you, and support you for the rest of your life!"

"Only while I'm nosing about and buzzing to and fro."

"Well, I suppose I've got to support you. There seems no way out of it. I'll tell you exactly what I propose to do. You think my hotel is a pretty poor hotel, eh? Well, you'll have plenty of opportunity of judging, because you're coming to live here. I'll let you have a suite and

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Rh I'll let you have your meals, but outside of that—nothing doing! Nothing doing! Do you understand what I mean?"

"Absolutely! You mean, 'Napoo!'"

"You can sign bills for a reasonable amount in my restaurant, and the hotel will look after your laundry. But not a cent do you get out of me. And, if you want your shoes shined, you can pay for it yourself in the basement. If you leave them outside your door, I'll instruct the floor-waiter to throw them down the air-shaft. Do you understand? Good! Now, is there anything more you want to ask?"

Archie smiled a propitiatory smile.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I was going to ask if you would stagger along and have a bite with us in the grill-room?"

"I will not!"

"I'll sign the bill," said Archie, ingratiatingly. "You don't think much of it? Oh, right-o!"

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text: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 3

title: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 3


text: Index:Dickens - Our Mutual Friend, New York, Continental Press.djvu


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Southern Historical Society Papers/Volume 41

I. Poem—The South. Father Ryan	1 II. Robert E. Lee—The Flower of the South, Bishop Collins Denny	3 III. Oakwood Memorial Address Dr. Douglas S. Freeman. . . 14 IV. The Great Seal of the Confederacy. Wm. B. Smith. . . 20 V. The Original Confederate Constitution. W. Gordon McCabe. . .34 VI. The Third Day at Gettysburg. Col. T. M. R. Talcott. . . 37 VII. Jefferson Davis and Repudiation in Mississippi. John D. Van Horne. . . 49 VIII. Books Made in Dixie. James W. Albright. . . 57 IX. Cabinet Meeting in Charlotte. Mrs. James A. Fore. . . 61 X. Theodore S. Garnett. Capt. W. Gordon McCabe. . . 68 XI. Walter H. Taylor. The News-Leader. . . 82 XII. John Warwick Daniel. Prof. W. M. Thornton. . . 88 XIII. Miss Kate Mason Rowland. . . 113 XIV. Failure of the Confederacy—Was it a Blessing? Dr. J. H. McNeilly. . . 115 XV. Battle Field Markers—Spotsylvania and Jefferson Counties. . . 145 XVI. Books—Long Arm of Lee, The New Market Campaign. . . 150 XVII. Gen. Lee's Traveller. The General's Description. . . 158 XVIII. From Bache's Life of Meade—On Sheridan in the Valley. . . 160 XIX. Letter of Col. Edward Willis—From Port Republic. . . 161 XX. Eggleston's Narrative of the Merrimac. . . 166 XXI. Valor of New Market Cadets. Captain F. E. Town. . . 179 XXII. Treatment of Prisoners. Letter of General Beauregard. . . 184 XXIII. Funeral of General Lee. Letter from Lexington. . . 188 XXIV. General Lee's Dispatches. Judge George L. Christian. . . 192 XXV. Life and Letters of John Hay. Col. D. G. McIntosh. . . 194

34 Southern Historical Society Papers

To the Editor of The Times-Dispatch:

Sir,—I find that a good many of our people have been much perturbed in mind by a special dispatch from New York to your paper, which appeared in your issue of Friday, January 14, in which your correspondent states: "At the auction sale of the library and curios of the late John E. Burton, of Milwaukee, at the Anderson Galleries here, there were many original official documents of the Confederate government sold, and they brought high prices. Among them were the Provisional and Permanent Confederation Constitutions, together with the Acts and Resolutions of the First Session of the Provisional Congress of the Confederate States of America, passed at Montgomery in 1861, sold to George D. Smith, a collector, for $500."

If your correspondent thought that these were the originals (as readers here did), he is mistaken as to both of them.

The "Anderson Galleries," of New York, always kindly send me (some weeks in advance of the sales), their handsome catalogues of rare books and manuscripts to be offered at auction, and I had long ago noted in Part V of the "Burton Library" the item, to which your correspondent alludes. It is honestly catalogued as follows: "Confederate Provisional and Permanent Constitutions, together with the Acts and Resolutions of the First Session of the Provisional Congress of the Confederate States, etc., 8 vo. half-sheep, pp. 190 Montgomery, Ala. 1861."

You will thus see that it was not the original, but a printed copy of these documents that was sold. Even this is excessively rare, as it is the first publication of the Confederate government, issued in March, 1861, shortly after President Davis took office (February 18, 1861). This copy, offered by the "Anderson Galleries," "evidently belonged to some member of the Confederate Congress, and contains a number of notes in ink on the margins."

As to the originals, that of the "Provisional Constitution" was purchased in February, 1884, by W. W. Corcoran, Esq., of Washington, D. C., vice-president of the "Southern Historical Society," and at once presented by him to that society. The document is beautifully engrossed on parchment, and bears the autograph signatures of the members of the Provisional Congress, together with the certificate of the clerk attesting its genuineness.

The first draft of this "Provisional Constitution" (before official engrossment, as I learn from my friend, Mr. Gaillard Hunt, the accomplished "chief of archives" in the Library of Congress, is now in the "Confederate Home," at Pikesville, near Baltimore, Md.

But the official engrossed original is here in Richmond in the Confederate Museum, the officers of the Southern Historical Society having some months ago turned it over, along with other rare documents, to the Confederate Memorial Literary Society for safe keeping.

The original (official and engrossed) copy of the "Permanent Constitution" was for some years deposited among the archives of the Congressional Library, but I learn from Mr. Hunt that it has been withdrawn and is now in the hands of its owner, Wymberely Jones de Renne, Esq., of Wormsloe, Ga. It will be remembered that Mr. de Renne is also the owner of "Lee's Confidential Dispatches to Davis, 1862-65," which have recently been edited with conspicuous learning and accuracy by Dr. Douglas Southall Freeman, of this city.

The first draft of this "Permanent Constitution" is, according to a letter from Mr. Hunt, dated January 24, 1916, in the University of Georgia, at Athens, in that State.

To sum up:

1. First draft of "Provisional Constitution of the Confederate States" is in the Confederate Home near Baltimore, Md.

The original engrossed document, signed by the members of the Provisional Confederate Congress and attested by the clerk, is in the Confederate Museum of this city.

2. First draft of the "Permanent Constitution of the Confederate States" is in the University of Georgia, Athens, Ga.

Original engrossed document, signed by members of Permanent Confederate Congress, and attested by the clerk, is in the hands of Mr. W. J. de Renne, of Wormsloe (and Savannah), Ga.

As, with all the good will in the world, I cannot find time to answer the many letters that come to me concerning these and other Confederate documents, I shall be glad if you will print this letter, and I would further suggest that those interested in such matters should cut out this letter and paste it in their scrapbooks. I bitterly regret that I did not do the like about other documents year ago. It would have saved me many weary hours of search.

Member Executive Committee, Southern Historical Society.

Richmond, January 16.

Miss Kate Rowland. page 113

Miss Kate Mason Rowland, the author of several historical works, a loyal daughter of the Confederacy, died in Richmond, Va., June 28th, 1916, seventy-seven years of age.

Miss Rowland was the daughter of Major Isaac S. and Mrs. Catherine Armistead (Mason) Rowland. She spent her early girlhood in Detroit, Mich., coming with her family to "The Cottage," on Seminary Hill, near Alexandria, where they lived until forced by the War between the States to move to Richmond. Here she often nursed the soldiers with her aunt, Miss Emily Mason, and became so wrapped up in Confederate work that thenceforth it was the one object and interest of her life.

Not only was Miss Rowland beloved by the soldiers, but she contributed valuable Confederate articles to magazines, edited "The Diary of Julian Le Grand, of New Orleans," and was an authority on Southern history, as well as on genealogy. As a genealogist she was an authority widely sought.

Her works on "The Life of George Mason" and "The Life of Charles Carroll of Carrollton" and other books are considered invaluable contributions to the history of those times. She contributed in recent years to the Southern Woman's Magazine and other publications.

Miss Rowland was the great grand-daughter of Thompson Mason, brother of George Mason. She with her aunt, Miss Emily Mason, and her uncle, Stephens Thompson Mason, formed an interesting trio. Her uncle was appointed governor of Michigan when it was a territory. He was then about twenty years old. Michigan became a State within his term of office. He immediately resigned, saying he had no right to the position after the State had the right to vote. He was unanimously elected by the people and was so useful as a governor and so well remembered that a few years ago a handsome monument was erected to him in Detroit.

Miss Emily Mason was a devoted worker for the Confederate soldiers and nursed in a large hospital known as Camp Winder. The soldiers she had nursed were so grateful that after the war they presented to her a sum of money with which she purchased a home, "Westwood," in Maryland. She devoted herself to the education of Southern girls after the war.

Miss Kate Mason Rowland began the United Daughters of the Confederacy movement in several cities and held several offices in this work. She was an enthusiastic worker in every Southern organization with which she was identified. She received the degree of LL. D. from William and Mary College last month. She was the only woman in Virginia to ever receive such a degree from a college in this State.

Miss Rowland was a member of the Virginia Historical Society for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities, the Confederate Memorial Literary Society, the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson Corporation, and other organizations. She is survived by a nephew, Stephens Thompson Mason, a prominent lawyer of Detroit, and other relatives.

page 188. Southern Historical Society Papers.

Lexington, Va. October, 1915.

Forty-five years ago today General Robert E. Lee was buried in the basement of the Lee Memorial Chapel, situated on the college campus. Imposing, yet simple, ceremony marked the occasion. General Lee died on Wednesday morning, October 12, 1870, at 9:30 o'clock, in the President's house at Washington College, now Washington and Lee University. The body was conveyed to the chapel on Thursday, October 13, at noon, and the funeral services were held at 1:30 P. M. on Saturday, October 15.

The casket in which General Lee was buried had an interesting history. The greatest freshet in North River (renamed "Maury River") remembered by the oldest people occurred the first week in October, 1870, when the lumber-house at the Point conducted by Archibald Alexander and James D. Anderson on the old canal was washed away, and among the goods stored there was a consignment of metallic caskets for C. M. Koones & Brother, furniture dealers and funeral directors, which had arrived only a few days before the freshet. No casket could be secured in Lexington for General Lee's body, and these caskets at the lumber-house were thought of. Search was made along the river with the hope that they might have lodged in some place. One of them was found on the island just below the first dam clown the river from East Lexington. It had been caught in a brush pile and was lodged in the forks of a tree.

W. P. Hartigan and J. L. Root, who were cabinet makers with Koones & Brother, secured the casket and brought it to Lexington, and this was used in which to bury the mortal remains of the great Confederate chieftain. But for this find it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to secure the right kind of a casket, as the canal was practically destroyed, roads ruined and no communication for some time with other towns.

The following report of General Lee's obsequies is reproduced from the Lexington Gazette of October 21, 1870:

"It is done. The remains of the brave soldier, the peerless hero, the great and good man, our noble and beloved President, have been consigned to the grave! We have looked for the last time upon all that was mortal of him, and he now belongs to immortality and to fame. It is our mournful duty here to record the last tribute of respect that has just been paid to his memory.

"According to arrangements of the printed program, at 10 o'clock Saturday, October 15, 1870, the procession was formed at the Episcopal Church, in front of the late President's residence, and, to the sound of solemn music, it moved in appointed order. We here present the order of procession: escort of honor, consisting of officers and soldiers of the Confederate army; chaplain and other clergy, hearse and pall-bearers, General Lee's horse, the attending physicians, trustees and faculty of Washington College, dignitaries of the State of Virginia, visitors and faculty of the Virginia Military Institute, other representative bodies and distinguished visitors, alumni of Washington College, citizens, cadets of Virginia Military Institute, students of Washington College as guard of honor.

"The procession moved, to the sound of solemn music (furnished by the band of the Military Institute), down Washington Street, up Jefferson Street to Franklin Hall, thence to Main Street. In front of the hotel the ranks were opened, and the committee from the Virginia Legislature, the representatives of the faculty and students of the University of Virginia and other distinguished guests, took their appointed place. Moving on, in front of the courthouse, it was joined by the large body of citizens, and thus the long line moved slowly and solemnly down to the Military Institute. Meanwhile all the bells were tolled, and minute guns were fired from the parapet of the institute. In front of the institute the Whole corps was drawn up, with presented arms, and as the procession slowly defiled past, it was joined by the visitors and faculty, who took up their places immediately behind the legislative committee, and by the cadets, who took their places just in front of the students of the college, to whom, as a post of honor, had been assigned the duty of closing the procession. Moving up to the college chapel, the front of the procession was then halted, and while its front was at the chapel door the rear was still in the institute grounds, so great was the number of those that had crowded to do honor to the lamented chief. After the procession had halted, the students, and after them the cadets, were marched to the front and proceeded into and through the chapel, past the remains, where they were drawn up in two bodies on the southern side of the chapel. The procession then moved in and were seated by the marshals. On the platform were the officers of the college and of the Military Institute, the legislative committee and other representatives from abroad. The body of the chapel was appropriately filled by the officers and soldiers who had followed the dead hero through the shocks of battle. The gallery and side blocks were filled with ladies and citizens, while the students and cadets held their post of honor outside in front of the tomb.

"The funeral service of the Episcopal Church was then read with impressive solemnity by Rev. W. N. Pendleton, D. D., the pastor of the church to which General Lee belonged, himself a distinguished officer who had served under him throughout the war in the Army of Northern Virginia. The congregation was vast and impressive, and the deepest solemnity pervaded the entire multitude. When the services in the chapel were concluded the corpse was removed by the pall bearers and conveyed to the vault in the basement of the chapel, which had been prepared for its reception. The coffin had been literally strewed with flowers, which had to be removed separately. The body was then solemnly deposited in its last resting place, and amid the tears of the countless multitude the venerable minister pronounced the solemn words, 'dust to dust' from the lofty bank in front of the tomb."

"The pallbearers were:

"Judge F. T. Anderson and David E. Moore, Sr., trustees of Washington College. "Ex-Governor John Letcher and Commodore M. F. Maury, for Virginia Military Institute. "Professor W. Preston Johnston and Professor J. Randolph Tucker, professors of Washington College. "William L. Prather and Edward P. Clark, students of Washington College. "Captain J. C. Boude and Captain J. P. Moore, soldiers of Confederate States of America. "William G. White and Joseph G. Steele, citizens of Lexington."


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Author:Kate Mason Rowland

Articles

 * "The family of George III." Harper's Magazine. September 1880.
 * "Robert Carter of Virginia." Magazine of American History. 1893.
 * "The fortunes of the Bourbons." Harper's Magazine. January 1895.
 * "Gunston Hall, Virginia." "The Olympian Magazine" 1903.
 * "Robert Carter of Virginia: A Revolutionary Sketch." Taylor-Trotwood Magazine. September 1910.
 * "General John Thomson Mason: An Early Friend of Texas." Volume 011, Number 3, Southwestern Historical Quarterly Online, Page 163 - 198.

Books

 * The Virginia Cavaliers. 1886.
 * The Life of George Mason, 1725-1792. G.P. Putnam's Sons, New York. 1892.
 * The Maryland Delegates to the Albany Congress. Dixie Publishing Company. 1900.
 * The Life of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, 1737-1832. Kessinger Publishing, LLC. 2007.

Essays and letters

 * "Three Papers Written for and Read on the Third Historical Evening - Richmond, Virginia, Thursday, November 9, 1911." 1911.
 * "Letters from Kate Mason Rowland to Robert Alonzo Brock, 1883-1892."

Edited books

 * The Poems of Frank O. Ticknor, M.D.. J. B. Lippincott & Co. 1879.
 * The Real Lincoln. Everett Waddey Company. 1901.
 * The Journal of Julia Le Grand, New Orleans, 1862-1863. Everett Waddey Co. 1911.

Works about Rowland

 * Southern Historical Society Papers, vol.41

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182 of success of such a mission is to close the eyes to the situation. All men expected miracles; Gregory who sent Augustine was infatuated with them. Augustine performed them, or believed he did, and others believed it too. Throughout these centuries, and indeed late into the mediaeval period, the power and habit of working miracles constituted sainthood in the hermit or the monk, thereby singled out as the special instrument of God's will or the Virgin's kindness. Of course miracles were ascribed to the great missionary apostles like Augustine or Boniface; and this conviction brought many conversions.

Among the heathen English about to be converted, there was diversity of view and mood as to the Faith. They stood in awe of these newcomers from Rome, fearing their spell-craft. From their old religion they had sought earthly victory and prosperity; and some had found it of uncertain aid. "See, king, how this matter stands," says Coifi, at the Northumbrian Witenagemot held by Edwin to decide as to the new religion: "I have learned of a certainty that there is no virtue or utility whatever in that religion which we have been following. None of your thanes has slaved in the worship of our gods more zealously than I. Yet many have had greater rewards and dignities from you, and in every way have prospered more. Were the gods worth anything, they would wish rather to aid me, who have been so zealous in serving them. So if these new teachings are better and stronger, let us accept them at once." Coifi expressed the common motives of converts of all nations from the time of Constantine. No better thought of Christian expediency had inspired Gregory of Tours's story of Clovis's career; and Bede in no way condemns Coifi's verba prudentiae, as he terms them. Naturally in times of adversity such converts were quick to abandon their new religion, proved ineffectual.

Among these Angles of Northumberland, however, finer souls were looking for light and certitude. Such a one was that thane who followed Coifi with the wonderful illustration of man's mortal need of enlightenment, the thane for whom life was as the swallow flying through the warmed and

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Rh high courage in encountering dangers, your fortitude in adversity, your patience under misfortunes as well as wounds, the purity and continence of the platonic loves of your worship and my lady Doña Dulcinea del Toboso " —

"I never heard my lady Dulcinea called Doña," observed Sancho here; "nothing more than the lady Dulcinea del Toboso; so here already the history is wrong."

"That is not an objection of any importance," replied Carrasco.

"Certainly not," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, señor bachelor, what deeds of mine are they that are made most of in this history?"

"On that point," replied the bachelor, "opinions differ, as tastes do; some swear by the adventure of the windmills that your worship took to be Briareuses and giants; others by that of the fulling mills; one cries up the description of the two armies that afterwards took the appearance of two droves of sheep; another that of the dead body on its way to be buried at Segovia; a third says the liberation of the galley slaves is the best of all, and a fourth that nothing comes up to the affair with the Benedictine giants, and the battle with the valiant Biscayan."

"Tell me, señor bachelor," said Sancho at this point, "does the adventure with the Yanguesans come in, when our good Rocinante went hankering after dainties?"

"The sage has left nothing in the ink-bottle," replied Samson; "he tells all and sets down everything, even to the capers the worthy Sancho cut in the blanket."

"I cut no capers in the blanket," returned Sancho; "in the air I did, and more of them than I liked."

"There is no human history in the world, I suppose," said Don Quixote, "that has not its ups and downs, but more than others such as deal with chivalry, for they can never be entirely made up of prosperous adventures."

"For all that," replied the bachelor, "there are those who have read the history who say they would have been glad if the author had left out some of the countless cudgellings that were inflicted on Señor Don Quixote in various encounters."

"That's where the truth of the history comes in," said Sancho.

"At the same time they might fairly have passed them over in silence," observed Don Quixote; "for there is no need of recording events which do not change or affect the truth of


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 their regular perseverance in public worship to this ordinance of the Church; there is no one assuredly who having broken this ordinance, has afterwards by mercy been brought back to join more uniformly in the public worship of his  and, who has not been thankful for this restriction. This then is protection.

The like has undoubtedly taken place even in the celebration of the Supper of our Lord. Individuals have been induced to join, and that beneficially to themselves, in the Communion even of their body and blood, just so often in the year as their Church has prescribed to them. This is not so unusual a case as it might seem. One cannot doubt, that in many cases, where the Holy Communion is celebrated but three times in the year, this is so done, because such is the smallest number, of which the Church admits, and the Minister supposes that his flock would not join with him more frequently. Had the Church made no such regulation, many probably, who now partake three times a year, might not have joined even thus often; yet would it not be true to say that such persons in all cases partook without real devotion, or any love to their. Again, where there are opportunities of a monthly Communion, there may be some, who would not have desired the privilege unless the provision had been made for them, and they had been invited by the Church so to do; yet will it not of necessity follow that they partake coldly or unacceptably. A warmer love would indeed lead the one to a more frequent, the other to a more glad Communion; nor have such persons well


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20 a history, if they tend to bring the hero of it into contempt, Æneas was not in truth and earnest so pious as Virgil represents him, nor Ulysses so wise as Homer describes him."

"That is true," said Samson; "but it is one thing to write as a poet, another to write as a historian; the poet may describe or sing things, not as they were, but as they ought to have been; but the historian has to write them down, not as they ought to have been, but as they were, without adding anything to the truth or taking anything from it.

"Well then," said Sancho, "if this señor Moor goes in for telling the truth, no doubt among my master's drubbings mine are to be found; for they never took the measure of his worship's shoulders without doing the same for my whole body; but I have no right to wonder at that, for, as my master himself says, the members must share the pain of the head."

"You are a sly dog, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "i' faith, you have no want of memory when you choose to remember."

"If I were to try to forget the thwacks they gave me," said Sancho, "my weals would not let me, for they are still fresh on my ribs."

"Hush, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and don't interrupt the bachelor, whom I entreat to go on and tell me all that is said about me in this same history."

"And about me," said Sancho, "for they say, too, that I am one of the principal presonages in it."

"Personages, not presonages, friend Sancho," said Samson.

"What! Another word-catcher!" said Sancho; "if that's to be the way we shall not make an end in a lifetime."

"May God shorten mine, Sancho," returned the bachelor, "if you are not the second person in the history, and there are even some who would rather hear you talk than the cleverest in the whole book; though there are some, too, who say you showed yourself over-credulous in believing there was any possibility in the government of that island offered you by Señor Don Quixote here."

"There is still sunshine on the wall," said Don Quixote; "and when Sancho is somewhat more advanced in life, with the experience that years bring, he will be fitter and better qualified for being a governor than he is at present."


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 understood the principles of their Church; still, forbid that we shall judge that they had not partaken worthily and devotionally.

Here again then is protection; in either case, we have a command of, obeyed in such wise as is prescribed by the Ministers, whom He has made the Stewards of His Word and Sacraments; and since we in these cases admit their regulation, why should we think it strange or incongruous, that they have given us their godly admonitions in another ordinance of God?

Nor is it to the undecided, or the timid, or the hesitating, or the novice only, that this protection is beneficial; although no reflecting Christian will speak lightly of the value of any mean, which tends to strengthen the broken reed or to kindle anew the smouldering flax. The comparison of our own times with those of the Reformers were proof enough of the benefit of authoritative interposition in these matters. Is human nature changed? or have we discovered some more royal road, by which to arrive at the subjugation of the body, the spiritualizing of the affections? or have we, even from, without, fewer temptations to luxury and self-indulgence? or will not even the more pious and decided Christians among us confess, upon reflection, that they had probably been now more advanced, had they in this point adhered to the Ancient Discipline of our Church? Our Reformers kept and enjoined one hundred and eight days in each year, either entirely or in part, to be in this manner sanctified; two sevenths of each year they wished to be in some way separated by acts of self-denial and humiliation. Let any one consider what proportion of each year he has himself so consecrated, and whether, had he followed the ordinances of the Church, his spirit would not probably have been more chastened and lowly, more single in following even what he deems his duty, whether self would not have been more restrained, whether he would not have walked more humbly with his.

Yet authority is a valuable support against the world, even to minds who yet are not inclined to compromise with the world unlawfully. There are many situations in life, in which it were almost impossible to continue without observing a system of habitual and regular Fasting, certainly not one, attended with those


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 accompaniments, which the Fathers of our Church thought it desirable to unite with it. It is true, that every Fast may be made a Feast, and every Feast a Fast, that as far as self-denial is concerned, if there be a stedfast purpose, the objects may perhaps be better accomplished in the midst of plenty and luxury, than by the purposed spareness of a private board; it is possible also, that the acts might be in some measure concealed; still there are very many minds, and those such as one would be the most anxious to protect, to whom the very suspicion that they might be observed, would be matter of pain and a species of profanation; they would shrink from any thing which might be construed into Pharisaic abstinence, or which would seem to pretend to more than ordinary measures of Christian prudence. To such mild and unobstrusive [sic] spirits, the recommendation or direction of the Church is an invaluable support; they may now adopt the line of conduct which they love, unimpeded by any scruple, lest their good should be evil spoken of; they are acting under authority; they pretend to nothing more than the Founders of their Church have deemed expedient for every one; their conduct involves no lofty pretensions; they follow in simplicity and faithfulness an old and trodden track, which has been marked out for them as plain and safe.

The first advantage then which may result from the authoritative interposition of the Church in regulating this duty, is the securing of greater regularity and more uniform perseverance in its performance; not undoubtedly as in itself an end, but as leading to great and important ends; for as those pious men, who laid so much stress thereon, themselves say, "when it respecteth a good end, it is a good work; but the end being evil, the work is also evil." "Fasting is not to be commended as a duty, but as an instrument; and, in that sense, no man can reprove it, or undervalue it, but he that knows neither spiritual acts, nor spiritual necessities."

But further, it is not even true, that all the purposes of Fasting can be attained by mere self-denial in the midst of luxury. For the acquisition of the habit of self-denial, although an important


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 object, is by no means the sole end of Fasting.

The great purpose, in connection with which it is chiefly mentioned in Holy Scripture, is prayer. The influences of Society, rightly chosen, may dispose the mind to more fervent (possibly only more excited) prayer; it is solitude generally, or communion with a single friend, which brings us to a humble, contrite, lowly, intercourse with our God. In the present day, the first paramount evil which destroys its tens of thousands, is probably self-indulgence; the second, which hinders thousands in their progress heavenwards, is the being "busy and careful about many things," whether temporal or spiritual. "We have kept the vineyards of our mother's children, but our own vineyards have we not kept." The tendency of the age is to activity, and we have caught its spirit; if we be but active about our Master's calling we deem ourselves secure; we think not, until we are precluded from active exertion, "how much activity belongs to some (ages and some) natures, and that this nature is often mistaken for grace." Meanwhile an activity, which leads us not inwards, has taken place of that tranquil retiring meditation on the things of the unseen world which formed the deep, absorbing, contemplative, piety of our forefathers; even the conception of the joys of heaven, which very many of us form, is but a glorified transcript of our life here; we look, when through mercy in  we shall be delivered from the burthen of the flesh, to be like the "Ministers of His, who do His pleasure;" but we look not, comparatively at least, to that which our Fathers longed for, to


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 be with and to see Him as He is. Our age is in general too busy, too active, for deep and continued self-observation, or for thoughtful communion with our. It would not be too broad or invidious a statement to say, that for real insight into the recesses of our nature, or for deep aspirations after, we must for the most part turn to holy men of other days: our own furnish us chiefly with that which they have mainly cherished, a general abhorrence of sin, they guide us not to trace it out in the lurking corners of our own hearts: they teach us to acknowledge generally the corruption of our nature, the necessity of a Redeemer, and the love we should feel towards Him; but they lead us not to that individual and detailed knowledge of our own personal sinfulness, whence the real love of our Redeemer can alone flow. A religious repose and a thoughtful contemplation would be a second advantage of complying in this respect with the instructions of our Church.

Braced and strung by retirement into ourselves, and tranquil meditation upon, we should return to our active duties with so much more efficiency, as we ourselves had become holier, humbler, calmer, more abstracted from ourselves, more habituated to refer all things to. Were human activity alone engaged on both sides, then might we the rather justify the prevailing notions of the day, that energy is to be met by counter-energy alone: but now, since "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world," it especially behoves us to look wherein our great strength lies, and to take heed that "the weapons of our warfare be not carnal." It is tempting to adopt into the service of the weapons or the mode of warfare, which in the hands of His enemies we see to be efficacious; but the faithful soldier of  must not go forth with weapons which he has not proved; the Christian's armoury, as the Apostle continues to describe it, is mainly defensive; and


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 when he has urged his brethren to assume it, he exhorts them to add that whereby alone it becomes effectual—a duty in which again we appear to ourselves to be inactive—"praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints." Fasting, retirement, and prayer, as they severally and unitedly tend to wean us from ourselves and cast us upon God, will tend to promote singleness of purpose, to refine our busy and over-heated restlessness into a calm and subdued confidence in Him, in whose strength we go forth. Nor shall we until the day of judgment know how much of the victory was granted to those, who in man's sight took no share in the conflict; how far the "unseen strength" of Fasting, humiliation, prayer, put forth by those of whom the world took no account, was allowed by to prevail. The world saw only that the Apostle whom they had imprisoned, escaped their power; they knew not that the prayer of the Church had baffled their design. In the present conflict throughout the world, in which the pride of human and Satanic strength seems put forth to the utmost, humility and a chastened dependent spirit would seem to have an especial efficacy. On these, as the graces most opposed to the world's main sin, we might look the more cheerfully for blessing; thus shall we at least be saved from augmenting the evil we would oppose. "Fasting directly advances towards chastity, and by consequence and indirect powers to patience, humility, and indifference. But then it is not the fast of a day that can do this; it is not an act, but a state of fasting, that operates to mortification."

A third benefit, which might be hoped to result from the more assiduous practice of this duty, would be a more self-denying extensive charity. "Fasting without mercy, is but an image of famine; Fasting without works of piety is only an occasion of covetousness;" and an Apostolic Father gives us this excellent instruction, "A true Fast is not merely to keep under the body, but to give to the widow, or the poor, the amount of that which thou


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 wouldest have expended upon thyself; that so he who receives it may pray to for thee."

It may perhaps seem strange to some that the present age should be thought wanting in self-denying charity. And yet let men but consider with themselves not what they give only, but what they retain; let them enquire a little further, not only what wants are relieved, but what remediable misery remains unabated; or let them but observe generally the glaring contrasts of extremest luxury and softness, and pinching want and penury; between their own cieled houses, and the houses of which lie waste; or let them only trace out one single item in the mass of human wretchedness, disease, insanity, religious ignorance, and picture to themselves what a Christian people might do, what the primitive Christians would have done to relieve it,—and then turn to what is done, to what themselves do, and say whether means to promote self-denying charity can well be spared.

A further important object of the stated and frequent recurrence of the prescribed Fasts of our Church, is the public recognition of the reality of things spiritual. Here also very many have felt, (and it is a feeling whose strength is daily increasing,) that some public protest is needed against the modes of acting, tolerated (would one must not say, reigning!) in our nominally Christian land: that the Church, or the body of believers, ought to have some recognized mode of distinguishing themselves from those, who manifest by their deeds, that although "amongst us, they are not of us;" and who, on the principles of our Church, would have gone out or been removed from us. It has been with a right view of what the ideal of the Christian Church should be, its holiness, and its purity, although not, I must think, with a just conception of the nature of the Church, that men jealous for the honour of their and their, have in some measure formed Churches within the Church. The plan has, I think, been defective, sacred and praiseworthy as was the object contemplated. It is true, that the mere union in the celebration of the weekly festival of our Lord's Resurrection does not, as things now are, furnish a sufficient condemnation of the maxims and offences of the world; that the Church and the world are too much amalgamated; that while the light of the Church has in part penetrated the gross darkness of the


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T seemed to Archie, as he surveyed his position at the end of the first month of his married life, that all was for the best in the best of all possible worlds. In their attitude towards America, visiting Englishmen almost invariably incline to extremes, either detesting all that therein is or else becoming enthusiasts on the subject of the country, its climate, and its institutions. Archie belonged to the second class. He liked America and got on splendidly with Americans from the start. He was a friendly soul, a mixer; and in New York, that city of mixers, he found himself at home. The atmosphere of good-fellowship and the open-hearted hospitality of everybody he met appealed to him. There were moments when it seemed to him as though New York had simply been waiting for him to arrive before giving the word to let the revels commence.

Nothing, of course, in this world is perfect; and, rosy as were the glasses through which Archie looked on his new surroundings, he had to admit that there was one flaw, one fly in the ointment, one individual caterpillar in the salad. Mr. Daniel Brewster, his father-in-law, remained consistently unfriendly. Indeed, his manner towards his new relative became daily more and more a manner which would have caused gossip on the plantation

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Rh if Simon Legree had exhibited it in his relations with Uncle Tom. And this in spite of the fact that Archie, as early as the third morning of his stay, had gone to him and in the most frank and manly way had withdrawn his criticism of the Hotel Cosmopolis, giving it as his considered opinion that the Hotel Cosmopolis on closer inspection appeared to be a good egg, one of the best and brightest, and a bit of all right.

"A credit to you, old thing," said Archie cordially.

"Don't call me old thing!" growled Mr. Brewster.

"Right-o, old companion!" said Archie amiably.

Archie, a true philosopher, bore this hostility with fortitude, but it worried Lucille.

"I do wish father understood you better," was her wistful comment when Archie had related the conversation.

"Well, you know," said Archie, "I'm open for being understood any time he cares to take a stab at it."

"You must try and make him fond of you."

"But how? I smile winsomely at him and what not, but he doesn't respond."

"Well, we shall have to think of something. I want him to realise what an angel you are. You are an angel, you know."

"No, really?"

"Of course you are."

"It's a rummy thing," said Archie, pursuing a train of thought which was constantly with him, "the more I see of you, the more I wonder how you can have a father like—I mean to say, what I mean to say is, I wish I had known your mother; she must have been frightfully attractive."

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30 "What would really please him, I know," said Lucille, "would be if you got some work to do. He loves people who work."

"Yes?" said Archie doubtfully. "Well, you know, I heard him interviewing that chappie behind the desk this morning, who works like the dickens from early morn to dewy eve, on the subject of a mistake in his figures; and, if he loved him, he dissembled it all right. Of course, I admit that so far I haven't been one of the toilers, but the dashed difficult thing is to know how to start. I'm nosing round, but the openings for a bright young man seem so scarce."

"Well, keep on trying. I feel sure that, if you could only find something to do, it doesn't matter what, father would be quite different."

It was possibly the dazzling prospect of making Mr. Brewster quite different that stimulated Archie. He was strongly of the opinion that any change in his father-in-law must inevitably be for the better. A chance meeting with James B. Wheeler, the artist, at the Pen-and-ink Club seemed to open the way.

To a visitor to New York who has the ability to make himself liked it almost appears as though the leading industry in that city was the issuing of two-weeks' invitation-cards to clubs. Archie since his arrival had been showered with these pleasant evidences of his popularity; and he was now an honorary member of so many clubs of various kinds that he had not time to go to them all. There were the fashionable clubs along Fifth Avenue to which his friend Reggie van Tuyl, son of his Florida hostess, had introduced him. There were the businessmen's clubs of which he was made free by more solid

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Rh citizens. And, best of all, there were the Lambs', the Players', the Friars', the Coffee-House, the Pen-and-Ink, and the other resorts of the artist, the author, the actor, and the Bohemian. It was in these that Archie spent most of his time, and it was here that he made the acquaintance of J. B. Wheeler, the popular illustrator.

To Mr. Wheeler, over a friendly lunch, Archie had been confiding some of his ambitions to qualify as the hero of one of the Get-on-or-get-out-young-man-step-lively-books.

"You want a job?" said Mr. Wheeler.

"I want a job," said Archie.

Mr. Wheeler consumed eight fried potatoes in quick succession. He was an able trencherman,

"I always looked on you as one of our leading lilies of the field," he said. "Why this anxiety to toil and spin?"

"Well, my wife, you know, seems to think it might put me one up with the jolly old dad if I did something."

"And you're not particular what you do, so long as it has the outer aspect of work?"

"Anything in the world, laddie, anything in the world."

"Then come and pose for a picture I'm doing," said J. B. Wheeler. "It's for a magazine cover. You're just the model I want, and I'll pay you at the usual rates. Is it a go?"

"Pose?"

"You've only got to stand still and look like a chunk of wood. You can do that, surely?"

"I can do that," said Archie.

"Then come along down to my studio to-morrow."

"Right-o!" said Archie.

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text: Indiscretions of Archie/Chapter 4

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CHAP. IX lighted hall, from the dark cold into the dark cold: "So this life of men comes into sight for a little; we are ignorant of what shall follow or what may have preceded. If this new doctrine offers anything more certain, I think we should follow it." The heathen poetry had given varied voice to this contemplative melancholy so wont to dwell on life's untoward changes; and there was ghostly evidence of the other world before the coming of the Roman monks. Now, as those monks came with authority from the traditionary home of ghostly lore, why question their knowledge of the life beyond the grave? Many Anglo-Saxons were prepared to fix their gaze upon a life to come and to let their fancies fill with visions of the great last severance unto heaven and hell. When once impressed by the monastic Christianity of the Roman, or the Irish, mission, they were quick to throw themselves into the ascetic life which most surely opened heaven's doors. So many a noble thane became an anchorite or a monk, many a noble dame became a nun; and Saxon kings forsook their kingdoms for the cloister: "Cenred, who for some time had reigned most nobly in Mercia, still more nobly abandoned his sceptre. For he came to Rome, and there was tonsured and made a monk at the church of the Apostles, and continued in prayers and fastings and almsgiving until his last day."

As might be expected, the re-expression of Christianity in Anglo-Saxon writings was martial and emotional. A martial tone pervades the epic paraphrases of Scripture, the Anglo-Saxon Genesis for example. On the other hand, adaptations of devotional Latin compositions evince a realization of Christian feeling and prevalent ascetic sentiments. The "elegiac" Anglo-Saxon feeling seems to reach its height in a more original composition, the Christ of Cynewulf, while the emotional fervour coming with Christianity is disclosed in Bede's account of the inspiration which fell upon the cowherd Caedmon, in St. Hilda's monastery

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