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 in one shape than in another,—is altogether too large a subject to touch on now. Yet, remember it is a most important part of practical Fetish, for on it depends divination and heaps of such like matters, that are parts of both the witch doctor and the Fetish priest's daily work.

One of the fundamental doctrines of Fetish is that the connection of a certain spirit with a certain mass of matter, a material object, is not permanent; the African will point out to you a lightning-stricken tree and tell you that its spirit has been killed; he will tell you when the cooking pot has gone to bits that it has lost its spirit; if his weapon fails it is because some one has stolen or made sick its spirit by means of witchcraft. In every action of his daily life he shows you how he lives with a great, powerful spirit world around him. You will see him before starting out to hunt or fight rubbing medicine into his weapons to strengthen the spirits within them, talking to them the while; telling them what care he has taken of them, reminding them of the gifts he has given them, though those gifts were hard for him to give, and begging them in the hour of his dire necessity not to fail him. You will see him bending over the face of a river talking to its spirit with proper incantations, asking it when it meets a man who is an enemy of his to upset his canoe or drown him, or asking it to carry down with it some curse to the village below which has angered him, and in a thousand other ways he shows you what he believes if you will watch him patiently.

It is a very important point in the study of pure Fetish to gain a clear conception of this arrangement of things in grades. As far as I have gone I think I may say fourteen classes of spirits exist in Fetish. Dr. Nassau of Gaboon

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 "Of course you can't." She seemed amazed at the mere idea. "And I wouldn't think of asking you anything like that, even to save my job. All I wanted to know was if Mr. Lovo really had left and if you really were going to be the commander from now on—my, I should think it would require unlimited brains and nerve to manage an—er—operation like this. And you look so young to have such an important position."

During the ensuing twenty minutes Miss Merton secured her interview. Her questions were adroitly harmless on the surface, dealing only with things which were already known or soon would be known about the gang and its operations, and Tony had no realization of how much he had said.

"I'll bet you'd make a wonderful husband," she said finally, her eyes sparkling in a way that gave him an unaccountable thrill. "Men who lead adventurous lives always do; they like the relief of a quiet, comfortable home."

Thus she steered the conversation into romantic channels and for some little time they dealt with love, marriage and so on. Mostly they talked in generalities but occasionally she elicited from him a personal opinion that would be "meat" for a sensational newspaper story on "A Gang Leader's

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 Ideas of Love" or some such "shop-girl-appeal" topic.

"By the way," she said at last, "did you ever know a girl named Vyvyan Lovejoy?"

The question gave Tony such a shock that he almost cried out. Only his iron reserve enabled him to keep from betraying himself by an obvious reaction. Did he know Vyvyan Lovejoy? Did Romeo know Juliet? Vyvyan was the burlesque leading woman who had been his first love. He had killed Al Spingola, the city's most important gang leader at that time, in order that he might have her for himself. It was his reckless love for her that had started him on his career beyond the law. And when he had come back from the war and found her living with another man he had killed them both. At the mention of her name, all these events had rushed through his mind like a private mental movie. As it came to an end, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set grimly.

"No," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"I interviewed her once," answered the girl smoothly. "And you look a great deal like a picture she had. There's something about the eyes—"

Tony felt considerably upset. To his knowledge, Vyvyan had never had a picture of him. Nor

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 had any one else. In fact, he didn't know of his picture ever having been taken. He didn't believe in pictures; they were too liable to fall into the wrong hands and some time be a means of identification.

"And by the way," continued Miss Merton smoothly, "do you ever see that stunning brunette who was with you at the Embassy Club the night Jerry Hoffman was shot?"

At this question, Tony did start. Even his iron-like nerves could not withstand a shock like that. He and Jane Conley, "The Gun Girl," the girl with whom he was now living, had killed Jerry Hoffman, then leader of the North Side gang, that night at the Embassy Club, the city's most exclusive night resort. Johnny Lovo had given the orders and paid for the job being done. And so far as Tony knew, Lovo was the only other person besides himself and Jane who even knew that they had been in the club that fatal night.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"You see, I was there that night and my escort pointed out all the notables to me. You were among them. He said he thought you would make

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 a great success in your chosen profession." She laughed lightly.

"Who was your escort that night?" demanded Tony.

"Oh, I don't think it would be fair to tell." She rose, smilingly, and extended her hand. "I won't take up any more of your valuable time now, Mr. Camonte. But perhaps some other time we can chat a bit. Anyway, thanks so much for a very interesting interview; it will enable me to keep my job."

And she departed, leaving behind her a much perturbed gang leader. Now that he was no longer under the influence of her personality—and her expert flattery—he realized that she was a smooth worker, that she had attained her objective in spite of him. And how had she known so much? And what could possibly have been her object in mentioning those past occurrences to him? The more he thought about it the more worried he became. At last, in response to a sudden awful suspicion, he picked up the telephone and, calling the Examiner, asked to speak to Miss Katherine Merton. A moment later he hung up slowly, feeling dazed and very uneasy. The Examiner had no one by that name. Then who was the girl? And what had been her object?

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 quest. For the man in the center was obviously a prisoner.

"Got him, Chief," announced Mike with an elegant gesture toward the glowering captive.

"Who is he?" demanded Tony. His manner indicated that nothing short of Caesar himself would be acceptable.

"Benny Peluso, one of the 'big shots' in the North Side crowd."

"Frisk him?"

"Certainly," answered Rinaldo, evidently aggrieved at the query. "Found a nice load of gats too."

"Well, frisk him again here. Strip him to the hide."

From his vantage point behind the big desk Tony surveyed the captive while his three hench men stripped the man and searched every inch of his clothing for possible weapons. The fellow was short and slightly stocky, with a heavy brutal face that instantly bred distrust. His black eyes, now blazing with anger, were shifty and set far too close together.

Tony removed a heavy automatic from the desk drawer and laid it on the desk conveniently close to his practiced right hand.

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 "All right," he said when the three men had completed their fruitless search and the prisoner was indignantly donning his coat. "You," pointing the pistol at the captive, "sit down there. The rest of you wait outside until I call you."

He toyed silently with the weapon until the door had closed behind his men. Then he looked at Peluso and stared at him until the man's glance dropped.

"Do you know where you are?" demanded Tony suddenly.

"Yeah," snarled the prisoner.

"Speak nicer if you expect to get out of here alive," snapped Tony. "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

“Well, I'm Scarface Tony Camonte, the new chief of the Lovo mob. And I'm just about ten times as hard-boiled as Johnny Lovo ever thought of bein'. I've bumped off six or eight myself and another one—especially a rat like you—wouldn't mean a thing in my young life. Get me?”

“Yeah.” But the man's tone now had changed from defiant anger to sullenness and his glance remained riveted hypnotically to that pistol.

"There's some things I want to know. And you're goin' to tell me."

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 thinks that the spirits commonly affecting human affairs can be classified fairly completely into six classes.

Regarding the Fetish view of the state and condition of the human soul there are certain ideas that I think I may safely say are common to the various cults of Fetish, both Negro and Bantu, in Western Africa. Firstly, the class of spirits that are human souls always remain human souls. They do not become deified, nor do they sink in grade. I am aware that here I am on dangerous ground so I am speaking carefully. An eminent authority, when criticising my statements, dwelt upon their heterodoxy on this point, saying however, "We may throw out the conjecture that in remote and obscure West Africa men do not reach the necessary pitch of renown for mighty deeds or sanctity that qualifies them in larger countries for elevation after death to high places among recognised divinities."

This conjecture I quite accept as an explanation of the non-deification of human beings in West Africa, and I think, taken in conjunction with the grade conception, it fairly explains why West Africa has not what undoubtedly other regions of the world have in their religions, deified ancestors.

After having had my attention drawn to the strangeness of this non-deification of ancestors, I did my best to work the subject out in order to see if by any chance I had badly observed it. I consulted the accounts of West African religions given by Labat, Bosman, Bastian and

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 "You got the wrong man, brother. I won't spill nothin'."

"The hell you won't!" Tony leaned across the desk, the pistol pointed unwaveringly at the hapless captive. "Do you want a load of that in you?"

"Naw, course not. But if I talked, my own crowd would bump me off."

"Maybe not." Tony leaned back. "How much jack do you make with your mob?"

"'Bout three ‘C’s’ a week. Sometimes more."

"Three ‘C’s,’ eh? That's not very much, is it, for all the work you do and the chances you take?"

"I'm wort' more," agreed the man darkly.

"Yeah. But you'll never get it, not with this Bruno guy, from what I hear of him. Where do you think he got that name Schemer anyhow? When a guy has a monicker like that hung on him there's a reason for it. Now, Benny, I'm not a bad guy when you don't cross me. And I'm always willing to see the boys get a piece of change for themselves." He leaned across the desk. How would you like to have fifteen grand—in one chunk?"

The prisoner's eyes sparkled and he licked his lips.

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 "Jeez!" he exclaimed. "Dat's a lotta jack, even if y'ain't got it."

"I've got it. And it's yours if you want to talk."

"What do you want to know?"

"That's more like it," smiled Tony. "I want to know a lot of things about the Bruno mob, where their warehouses are, and their breweries and their main alky cooking plants. I want to know what garages they keep their trucks in and what roads they use mainly in haulin' their stuff in and out of town. I'll think of a few more things as we go along."

"God! I couldn't tell you all dat stuff."

"Why not?"

"Dey'd bump me off sure."

"Well, if you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll bump you off."

"An' if I do tell you, dey will. What chance has a poor guy got?"

"Listen, mug!" snapped Tony. "Don't you know that fifteen grand's a lot of dough? That's as much as you make in a year with the mob, and if you stay here with them you'll never have that much in one chunk. If you had that much jack, you could go to Frisco or New York or even Mexico or some other crazy place and open a gambling house or

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 get in some kind of a racket and be set for life."

"Yeah, I know. I—I'd like to have it, all right. But dem guys would follow me any place."

"They wouldn't know where you was. They'd think you'd been took for a ride. Don't plenty of mugs from these mobs around here disappear every year?"

"Yeah, I guess they do. But I couldn't do it. They'd get me sure. And what good's dough to a dead man?"

"Come on, now, don't be a fool!" snarled Tony menacingly and aimed the pistol again. "Either you talk or you get it."

The man's eyes glittered against the background of his ghastly pale face and he licked his lips constantly.

"Well, I know I'm goin' to get it if I do talk," he answered doggedly. "So I guess I'll have to take my chances of gettin' it if I don't."

"So you won't spill it, eh?" gritted Tony.

The hole in the muzzle of that automatic must have looked as big as a barrel to the prisoner. But he caught his breath suddenly, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I think you will!" said Tony. "Get up!"

He called in his henchmen from the other room.

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 which determines their degree of difference from a gray of the same brilliance. Synonymous terms, as used by various writers, are “purity” (Rood, ', 32; Nutting, ', 139; Abney, ', 4) and “chroma” (Munsell, ', 12-14; Titchener, , 62-63).

(d) Auxiliary Terms: The term chromaticity may be used to characterize a color qualitatively without reference to its brilliance. Chromaticity is determined by hue and saturation together, a gray being specified by the statement that it has no chromaticity.

(e) Interdependence of the Attributes: All colors except absolute black exhibit brilliance, but grays have zero saturation, and hence no hue. All colors which exhibit a hue must also exhibit saturation, and vice versa.

(f) Species of Colors. Colors can be classified into chromatic and achromatic species, according as they do or do not exhibit hue, respectively. The former may be designated briefly as chromas (including colors of all finite degrees of saturation) and the latter as grays (including black and white).

Median gray (=“mid-gray”) is the middle member of a series of grays in which each member differs from its immediate neighbors by the least perceptible difference, and of which black and white are the terminal members. This gray furnishes the most practicable reference point for the achromatic as well as for the chromatic series of colors.

Median colors are all colors equivalent in brilliance to median gray, including the latter.

Tints and shades are colors, including grays and chromas, which are respectively lighter or darker than median gray.

D. .—The psychologically primary colors are those which are necessary and sufficient, in minimum number, for the description of all colors by introspective analysis.

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 "He's a hard nut," he explained. "Got to take him to the cellar."

Rinaldo paled. He could shoot a man down without even giving serious thought to the matter but the mere thought of what was in that cellar made him weak.

"Come on!" snapped Tony and included them all with a comprehensive gesture of the automatic.

"Ya takin' me for a ride?" asked the prisoner as they descended in the elevator.

"No," retorted Tony grimly. "Not yet."

The place to which they took him was a sub-cellar beneath the regular cellar under the hotel. It was reached by a rather rickety wooden stairway and proved to be a large square room with concrete walls from which were suspended by chains various strange-looking iron appendages. Before Peluso could hardly realize what was happening he had been stripped to the waist and rigged up against the wall, his arms stretched high overhead, his body suspended from the wrists which were encircled by tight iron bands. Tony motioned to one of his men who stepped over to a small, furnace like arrangement. Tony himself caught up a large, razor-edged knife and, fingering it significantly, looked at his prisoner.

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 Ellis, and to my great pleasure found that the three first said nothing against my statements, and that Sir A. B. Ellis had himself said the same thing in his Ewe Speaking People. Moreover, I sent a circular written on this point to people in West Africa whom I knew had opportunities of knowing the facts as at present existing,—the answers were unanimous with Ellis and myself.

Nevertheless, mind, you will find something that looks like worship of ancestors in West Africa. Only it is no more worship, properly so called, than our own deference to our living, elderly, and influential relations.

In almost all Western African districts (it naturally does not show clearly in those where reincarnation is believed to be the common and immediate lot of all human spirits) is a class of spirits called "the well disposed ones," and this class is clearly differentiated from "them," the generic name used for non-human spirits. These "well disposed ones" are ancestors, and they do what they can to benefit their particular village or family, acting in conjunction with the village or family Fetish, who is not a human spirit, nor an ancestor. But the things given to ancestors are gifts, not in the proper sense of the word sacrifices, for the well disposed ones are not gods even of the rank of a Sasabonsum or an Ombuiri.

In an extremely interesting answer to my inquiries that I received from Mr. J. H. Batty, of Cape Coast, who had kindly submitted my questions to a native gentleman well versed in affairs, the statement regarding ancestors is, "The people believe that the spirits of their departed relations exercise a guardian care over them, and they will frequently stand over the graves of their deceased friends and

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 "You know, Benny," he said grimly, "a lot of these mugs they find out on the road somewhere after they've been took for a ride don't look so pretty; ears off, tongue out, and other little details like that. And all those things always happen before the guy is actually bumped off. Nice to think about, ain't it?"

Tony turned back toward the furnace. Rinaldo followed him.

"I don't like to say nothin'. Chief," said the gun man hoarsely in a low tone, "but, honest to God, I don't believe I can stand this."

"Then look the other way or get out. I don't like it any better than you do but it's got to be done. Makin' this bird talk means that our mob will control the city before long. And don't forget this, Mike; Bruno or any of that North Side mob of his would do this same thing to you or me or any of us in a minute if they had the chance." He turned abruptly to the other man. "Ready?" he demanded brusquely.

"Here you are, Chief." From within the furnace, the gangster drew out a long, thin iron bar. One end of it was red hot. Tony caught it up by the cold end and approached the trussed prisoner.

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 "Now, damn you," he snarled, "you'll either talk or I'll ram a hole clear through you with this."

And he started the sizzling iron bar slowly but surely toward the gangster's bare flesh. The man cringed and his eyes widened with terror. Finally he yelled, though the iron had not yet touched him.

"Go ahead and yell," said Tony grimly. "Nobody'll hear you."

Facing a pistol is one thing; facing red hot iron against one's bare flesh and other unknown tortures is another. Peluso cracked.

"I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll talk!" he gibbered when the iron was yet half an inch from him. "God! take that away."

For an hour they cross-examined him, Rinaldo and the others jotting down details while Tony asked the questions. The leader's eyes were sparkling; he was gaining a complete knowledge of the operations of his most important enemy.

"Well, do I get the dough?" asked Peluso when he finally had convinced them that he knew no more.

"Yes," retorted Tony. "After we've checked up on this story of yours and carried out a plan or two I'm hatching up right now. In the meantime, you stay here; I'm not takin' any chances with

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 you rushin' to Bruno and blabbin' everything to him so that he could change his whole line-up before I can ruin it for him."

Tony immediately selected his half dozen cleverest men—including Mike Rinaldo—and sent them out to investigate what Peluso had told. For over a week they worked day and night, circulating around the city, spying, asking apparently aimless questions, doing a great deal of motoring, snooping carefully but efficiently in many quarters. And they reported back that every detail of the prisoner's story seemed correct.

Elated, Tony at once set in motion the machinery over which he now had control. A dozen new machine guns were imported from New York by devious methods. And certain members of the gang who were acknowledged experts in that line were set to work constructing powerful bombs, or "pineapples" as they are known in gang circles. Tony was a veritable dynamo of energy during these preparations and his vigorous―and murderous―enthusiasm gradually communicated itself to the others until the entire gang was a real fighting machine anxious to get a chance at the enemy.

Libati came swaggering into Tony's private office late one afternoon.

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 "Well, I guess we're about all ready for the war to start. What's the first move?"

"I'll let you know when I've decided," retorted Tony coolly.

"How about this mug, Peluso? What are we goin to do with him?"

"Do with him! Why, as soon as the campaign on the North Side gang is well opened up, I'm goin' to give him the jack I promised him and have him taken to a train for the West. I imagine he'll be glad enough to blow town."

"I'd think so. But surely you're not goin' to be such a sap as to pay him off now. He's told us all he knows. Why not take him for a ride and save the dough?"

Tony, unaccountably shocked by the cold-blooded proposal, looked up with flashing eyes.

"I keep my word, Steve, whether to friend or enemy, and no matter what I've promised, either good or bad," he retorted grimly. "The other day I gave you an assignment to get a certain man. You haven't done it yet. Do you remember what I promised you if you didn't carry it out?"

Steve's glance shifted uneasily. "Yes."

"Well, that stands. And I don't intend to wait all Summer either. Better get a move on."

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text: Poems (Osgood)/The Spirit of Poetry

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 invoke their spirits to protect them and their children from harm. It is imagined that the spirit lingers about the house some time after death. If the children are ill the illness is ascribed to the spirit of the deceased mother having embraced them. Elderly women are often heard to offer up a kind of prayer to the spirit of a departed parent, begging it either to go to its rest, or to protect the family by keeping off evil spirits, instead of injuring the children or other members of the family by its touch. The ghosts of departed enemies are considered by the people as bad spirits, who have power to injure them."

In connection with this fear of the ancestor's ghost hurting members of its own family, particularly children, I may remark it has several times been carefully explained to me that this "touching" comes not from malevolence, but from loneliness and the desire to have their company. A sentimental but inconvenient desire that the living human cannot give in to perpetually, though big men will accede to their ancestor's desire for society by killing off people who may serve or cheer him. This desire for companionship is of course immensely greater in the spirit that is not definitely settled in the society of spiritdom, and it is therefore more dangerous to its own belongings, in fact to all living society, while it is hanging about the other side of the grave, but this side of Hades. Thus I well remember a delicious row that arose primarily out of trade matters, but which caused one family to yell at another family divers remarks, ending up with the accusation, "You good-for-nothing illegitimate offspring of house lizards, you don't bury your ditto ditto dead relations, but leave them knocking about anyhow, a curse to Calabar." Naturally therefore the spirit of a dead enemy is feared because it would touch for the purpose of

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text: Poems (Osgood)/The Lutin-Steed

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 grass under you, gives any satisfaction to a man, can recommend the spot. When I first come into the woods to live, I used to have weak spells, and I felt lonesome; and then I would go into the Cattskills and spend a few days on that hill, to look at the ways of man; but it's now many a year since I felt any such longings, and I'm getting too old for them rugged rucks. But there's a place, a short two miles back of that very hill, that in late times I relished better than the mountain; for it was more kivered with the trees, and more nateral."

"And where was that?" inquired Edwards, whose curiosity was strongly excited by the simple description of the hunter.

"Why, there's a fall in the hills, where the water of two little ponds that lie near each other breaks out of their bounds, and runs over the rocks into the valley. The stream is, maybe, such a one as would turn a mill, if so useless a thing was wanted in the wilderness. But the hand that made that 'Leap' never made a mill! There the water comes crooking and winding among the rocks, first so slow that a trout could swim in it, and then starting and running just like any creater that wanted to make a far spring, till it gets to where the mountain divides, like the cleft hoof of a deer, leaving a deep hollow for the brook to tumble into. The first pitch is nigh two hundred feet, and the water looks like flakes of driven snow, afore it touches the bottom; and there the stream gathers itself together again for a new start, and maybe flutters over fifty feet of flat-rock, before it falls for another hundred, when it jumps about from shelf to shelf, first turning this-away and then turning that-away, striving to get out of the hollow, till it finally comes to the plain."


text:
Page:West African Studies.djvu/180

 getting spirit slaves; therefore it follows that powerful ancestors are valued when they are on the other side, for they can keep off the dead enemies. A great chief's spirit is a thoroughly useful thing for a village to keep going, and in good order, for it conquered those who are among the dead with it, and can keep them under, keep them from aiding their people in the fights between its living relations and itself and them, with its slave spirit army. I ought to say that it is customary for the living to send the dead out ahead of the army, to bear the brunt in the first attack.

Ancestor-esteem you will find at its highest pitch in West Africa under the school of Fetish that rules the Tshi and Ewe peoples. Ellis gives you a full description of it for Ashanti and Dahomey. The next district going down coast is the Yoruba one; but Yoruba has been so long under the influence of Mahometanism that its Fetish, judging from Ellis's statement in his Yoruba Speaking People, is deeply tinged with it. I have no personal acquaintance with Yorubaland, but have no hesitation for myself in accepting his statements from the accuracy I have found them, by personal experience with Tshi and Ewe people, to possess. Below Yoruba comes a district, the Oil Rivers, where, alas, Ellis did not penetrate, and where no ethnologist, unless you will graciously extend the term to me, has ever cautiously worked.

In this district you have a school where reincarnation is strongly believed in, a different school of Fetish to that of Tshi and Ewe, a class of human ghosts called the well-disposed ones. And these are ancestors undoubtedly. They do not show up clearly in those districts where reincarna-

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/180


text: Poems (Osgood)/Love's Reply

title: Poems (Osgood)/Love's Reply


text:
Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/14

 For normal vision these primaries are: black, white, red, yellow, green, and blue. (', 251-252; ', 21). Red and yellow may be grouped together under the designation of “warm,” while green and blue may be classified under the designation of “cold” primary chromas.

E. .—The three attributes of color can be treated as quantities and specified numerically, if all discriminable colors are conceived to be arranged into a system such that neighboring members differ from one another in each of the three attributes by just noticeable degrees (or threshold steps). (', 207-215; ', 1-10). Such a system (vide infra) is necessarily three-dimensional (, 18-31), and three ordinal values, representing the positions of a given color in the several dimensions are needed to define the color. The spectral chroma scale, considered more in detail below, is an application of this principle of color measurement to the study of the dependency of chromaticity upon wave-length.

A. .—The adequate stimulus of color consists of radiant energy of certain frequencies or wave-lengths which have various stimulus values depending on the type of visual response system under consideration. The term “radiation” is often employed as a brief equivalent of “radiant energy,” although this usage tends to confuse the process of radiation with the outcome of the process.

B. is an arrangement of radiant energies in order of their respective frequencies or wave-lengths. It should not be confused with the color spectrum which is a series of colors aroused by part of the physical spectrum.

C.. The properties inherent in any sample of radiant energy which determine its capacity as a color stimulus are completely specified by its spectral distribution, which expresses the “intensity” for any frequency (or wave-length) as a function of the frequency (or wave-length) in question.

title: Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/14


text:
McCray v. United States (405 U.S. 944)/Dissent Douglas

MR. JUSTICE DOUGLAS, dissenting.

Petitioner was found guilty of five violations of the Mann Act and sentenced to a total of 10 years—some of the sentences being consecutive and some concurrent. There is no doubt that petitioner transported the same woman to various cities over a period of a year for prostitution. There were five counts, two of which charged transportation in commerce of the named woman between designated cities for the purpose of prostitution. Each was an offense under 18 U.S.C. § 2421, which provides a fine of $5,000 or five years in prison, or both. [p945] Three of the five counts charged that petitioner persuaded, induced, enticed, or coerced this same woman "to go from one place to another" in interstate commerce for the purpose of prostitution, each count charging an offense under 18 U.S.C. § 2422 which carries a fine of $5,000 or five years in prison, or both.

As a matter of semantics there is an offense under § 2421 whenever a person "transports" a woman for the illegal purpose and there is one under § 2422 when a [p946] person "induces" a woman to move interstate for the purpose of prostitution. The two sections seem complementary. But there are two substantial questions:

First, can § 2422 be fragmented into a series of acts, each being described as an inducement to the same woman to move interstate to live the life of a prostitute? Or within the meaning of the Act is she "induced" only once in the series?

Second, where, as here, petitioner and the woman move around the country in one continuous enterprise, is there a separate offense each time they cross a state line?

In Bell v. United States, 349 U.S. 81, we held that where a man for purposes of prostitution took two women across a state line on the same trip and in the same vehicle, he committed only a single offense. We said: "'When Congress leaves to the Judiciary the task of imputing to Congress an undeclared will, the ambiguity should be resolved in favor of lenity.' Id., at 83."

A man who induces a woman to go on a prostitution tour certainly violates the Act. But what kind of inducement fits the Act? Here this woman, a divorcee, merely got instruction from petitioner as to how to work a cocktail lounge and bar. The legislative history of the Act shows a purpose "to prevent panderers and procurers from compelling... women and girls against their will and desire to enter and continue in a life of prostitution." S. Rep. No. 886, 61st Cong., 2d Sess., 10 (1910). It was supposed to reach those "who, by means of force and restraint, compel their victims to practice prostitution." Id., at 11. Examples were given of the use of "[l]iquor, trickery, deceit, fraud and the use of force" by a procurer "to place the girl under his power." Ibid. For maintaining a regime of prostitution, the Report said, [p947] "the procurer has [sic] resort to physical violence and the maintenance of a system of surveillance which makes her, to all intents and purposes, a prisoner." Id., at 12. There was no such force or compulsion in the present case.

The Report makes plain that the Act "does not attempt to regulate the practice of voluntary prostitution" or to displace any laws of the States. Id., at 10.

Since at best this case is a marginal one, should not the Act be strictly, not loosely, construed? Since petitioner and the woman (plus petitioner's wife) were on a year's tour, do the offenses multiply every time a state line is crossed or should the enterprise be considered as one entity? Or, where there is but one inducement, is there not, as far as § 2422 concerned, but one offense?

These are questions on which we should have briefs and argument.

The Court has not been consistent in its approach to this Act, as a comparison of Caminetti v. United States, 242 U.S. 470, with Bell v. United States, supra, makes plain. The present case of voluntary prostitution is an appropriate vehicle for a re-examination of the judicial decisions in this area.


text:
Page:Pioneersorsource02cooprich.djvu/114

 "I have never heard of this spot before!" exclaimed Edwards; "it is not mentioned in the books."

"I never read a book in my life," said Leather-stocking; "and how should a man who has lived in towns and schools know any thing about the wonders of the woods! No, no, lad; there has that little stream of water been playing among them hills, since He made the world, and not a dozen white men have ever laid eyes on it. The rock sweeps like mason-work, in a half-round, on both sides of the fall, and shelves over the bottom for fifty feet; so that when I've been sitting at the foot of the first pitch, and my hounds have run into the caverns behind the sheet of water, they've looked no bigger than so many rabbits. To my judgment, lad, it's the best piece of work that I've met with in the woods; and none know how often the hand of God is seen in a wilderness, but them that rove it for a man's life."

"What becomes of the water? in which direction does it run? Is it a tributary of the Delaware?"

"Anan!" said Natty.

"Does the water run into the Delaware?"

"No, no, it's a drop for the old Hudson; and a merry time it has till it gets down off the mountain. I've sat on the shelving rock many a long hour, boy, and watched the bubbles as they shot by me, and thought how long it would be before that very water, which seemed made for the wilderness, would be under the bottom of a vessel, and tossing in the salt sea. It is a spot to make a man solemnize. You can see right down into the valley that lies to the east of the High-Peak, where, in the fall of the year, thousands of acres of woods are before your eyes, in the deep hollow, and along the side of the mountain, painted like ten


text: Poems (Osgood)/The Fan

title: Poems (Osgood)/The Fan


text:
Page:West African Studies.djvu/181

 tion is believed to be the common lot of all human souls. Nevertheless, they are clear enough even there, as I will presently attempt to explain.

These ancestor spirits have things given to them for their consolation and support, and in return they do what they can to benefit and guard their own villages and families. Nevertheless, the things given to the well-disposed ones are not as things sacrificed to gods. Nor are the well-disposed ones gods, even of the grade of a Sasabonsum or an Ombuiri. It is a low down thing to dig up your father—i.e., open his grave and take away the things in it that have been given him. It will get you cut by respectable people, and rude people when there is a market-place row on will mention it freely; but it won't bring on a devastating outbreak of small-pox in the whole district.

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/181


text: Poems (Osgood)/To Sybil

title: Poems (Osgood)/To Sybil


text:
Page:Pioneersorsource02cooprich.djvu/115

 thousand rainbows, by no hand of man, though without the ordering of God's providence."

"Why, you are eloquent, Leather-stocking!" exclaimed the youth.

"Anan!" repeated Natty.

"The recollection of the sight has warmed your blood, old man. How many years is it since you saw the place?"

The hunter made no reply; but, bending his ear near to the water, he sat for a minute, holding his breath, and listening attentively, as if to some distant sound. At length he raised his head, and said—

"If I hadn't fastened the hounds with my own hands, with a fresh leash of green buck-skin, I'd take a Bible oath that I heard old Hector ringing his cry on the mountain."

"It is impossible," said Edwards, " It is not an hour since I saw him in his kennel."

By this time the attention of Mohegan was attracted to the sounds; but, notwithstanding the youth was both silent and attentive, he could hear nothing but the lowing of some cattle from the western hills. He looked at the old men, Natty sitting with his hand to his ear, like a trumpet, and Mohegan bending forward, with his arm raised to a level with his face, holding the fore finger elevated as a signal for attention, and laughed aloud at what he deemed to be their imaginary sounds.

"Laugh if you will, boy," said Leather-stocking, "the hounds be out, and are hunting a deer. No man can deceive me in such a matter. I wouldn't have had the thing happen for a beaver's skin. Not that I care for the law! but the venison is lean now, and the dumb things run the flesh off their bones for no good. Now do you hear the hounds?"


text: Author:Karl Hermann Johannes Thiele

title: Author:Karl Hermann Johannes Thiele


text: Poems (Osgood)/A Flight of Fancy

title: Poems (Osgood)/A Flight of Fancy


text:
Page:Pioneersorsource02cooprich.djvu/116

 Edwards started, as a full cry broke on his ear, changing from the distant sounds that were caused by some intervening hill, to the confused echoes that rung among the rocks that the dogs were passing, and then directly to a deep and hollow baying that pealed under the forest on the lake shore. These variations in the tones of the hounds passed with amazing rapidity, and while his eyes were glancing along the margin of the water, a tearing of the branches of the alder and dog-wood caught his attention, at a spot near them, and, at the next moment a noble buck sprung on the shore, and buried himself in the lake. A full-mouthed cry, directly from the lungs of the hounds, followed, when Hector and the slut shot through the opening in the bushes, and darted into the lake also, bearing their breasts most gallantly to the water.


text: Poems (Osgood)/The Heart's Answer

title: Poems (Osgood)/The Heart's Answer


text:
Page:West African Studies.djvu/182

I have had occasion to refer to schools of Fetish, and as that is a term of my own, I must explain why I use it, and what I mean by it, in so far as I am able. When travelling from district to district you cannot fail to be struck by the difference in character of the native religion you are studying. My own range on the West Coast is from Sierra Leone to Loanda; and here and there in places such as the Oil Rivers, the Ogowe, and the Lower Congo, I have gone inland into the heart of what I knew to be particularly rich districts for an ethnologist. I make no pretence to a thorough knowledge of African Fetish in all its schools, but I feel sure no wandering student of the subject in Western Africa can avoid recognising the existence of at least four distinct forms of development of the Fetish idea. They have, every one of them, the underlying idea I have attempted to sketch as pure Fetish when speaking of the position of the human soul; and yet they differ. And I believe much of the confusion which is supposed to exist in African religious ideas is a confusion

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/182


text:
Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/285

 fore it was time to go to bed. But perhaps the future Saturnian will be so constructed that he does not have to spend so many hours in sleep, or perhaps, as in the Golden Age when the god Saturn ruled on earth and the needs of man were brought forth without labor, this length of day would be quite enough for general entertainment. Again, they might be such quick-witted creatures that they could accomplish a thing while we were thinking about it, or, yet again, they might not care to slave all their days in order to indulge in such foolishly complex lives as we do here and 5 hours would prove a great plenty. How we do ramble on! Yet is it not a little fun to stop a moment and conjecture about folks on a distant world? Perhaps they could never be—perhaps Saturn may never mature into a habitable globe—but then, who knows?

John H. Thayer in his interesting article on Saturn in Popular Astronomy, March, 1919, says: "If you want to see a picture painted as only the hand of God can paint it, go with me to Saturn." He then beautifully describes the scene of the wonderful band of silvery light which arches the sky near the equator, and the bewildering panorama of many moons, full round disks, quarter phases and thin crescents displayed in the Saturnian nights. Not only would the nights be startling to an earth-being; during the daytime their tiny sun would skim across the sky at the rate of about the distance of the diameter of the moon in every minute, and then after the sun literally dropped below the horizon, the stars and crescents and disks and quarters of moons would shoot across equally fast.

Suppose all the inhabitants of the solar system were forced to exist in a medium like the ocean, for instance, to know nothing of such celestial scenes; perhaps the unfortunate inhabitants of

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/285


text:
Author:Pierre-André Latreille

Works

 * Histoire naturelle des fourmis (Natural history of ants) (1802)

title: Author:Pierre-André Latreille


text:
Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/286

 Venus can see no more clearly through that dense atmosphere which surrounds their globe.

The crowning glory of Saturn, its thin flat ring, is poised above the huge body without in any way touching it. Although this ring appears as a solid piece, it is now known positively that it is made up of swarms of meteors or exceedingly minute satellites, all whirling round and round Saturn in the same plane. It may easily be seen why a brightly swirling mass of these shining moons would seem as one object at such a distance.

Through a large telescope it becomes apparent that Saturn's ring is really composed of three rings lying one inside of the other, the two outer rings, which are about 11,000 and 18,000 miles in width, being separated by a dark, narrow clean-cut space of about 2200 miles.

The third ring is a thin, faint inner ring, so transparent that the planet may be seen shining through it. It is about the same width as the outer ring, 11,000 miles, and its inner edge lies only 6000 miles above the surface of the planet. This inner ring is called the "crape ring" because it has a dusky look. It is believed to be the inner ring thinning off toward the planet. It has been suggested that the crape ring may have originated from collisions of particles in the bright ring, thus reducing their orbits, and that the rings of Saturn are slowly shrinking down upon the planet and will sometimes in the future have entirely disappeared.

The first individual to gain a glimpse of Saturn's rings was

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/286


text:
Page:Pioneersorsource02cooprich.djvu/117

" it—I know'd it!" cried Natty, when both deer and hounds were in full view;—"the buck has gone by them with the wind, and it has been too much for the poor rogues; but I must break them of these tricks, or they'll give me a deal of trouble. He-ere, he-ere—shore with you rascals—shore with you—will ye?—Oh! off with you, old Hector, or I'll hatchel your hide with my ramrod when I get ye."

The dog's knew their master's voice, and after swimming in a circle, as if reluctant to give over the chase, and yet afraid to persevere, they finally obeyed, and returned to the land, where they filled the air with their howlings and cries.

In the mean time, the deer, urged by his fears, had swam over half the distance between the shore and the boats, before his terror permitted him to see the new danger. But at the sounds of Natty's voice he turned short in his course, and, for a few moments, seemed about to rush back again, and brave the dogs. His retreat in this direction was, however, effectually cut off, and, turning a second


text: Author:Ernest Edward Tyzzer

title: Author:Ernest Edward Tyzzer


text: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/287

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/287


text: Author:Modest Mikhailovich Ilyin

title: Author:Modest Mikhailovich Ilyin


text:
Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/288

 Galileo. To Galileo, whose telescope was not much superior to the field-glass of today, the planet appeared triple with two outer stars touching the middle star "like two servants assisting old Saturn to complete his journey." A few years later when he again turned his telescope upon Saturn, these attendant orbs had disappeared. "It is possible some demon mocked me," he exclaimed, and would look no more.

Later the side features reappeared and became larger and larger, until they fitted the globe "like a pair of handles." The drawings of those days look very strange to us now, for some pictured a bar run through the planet or a ball with ears. Fifty years later, in 1656, Huygens, with his 123-foot tubeless telescope, solved the mystery and proved the existence of a thin, disconnected ring, which was as astounding a phenomenon as the ears or bars or handles.

Proof by direct observation that the ring was neither liquid

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/288


text: Author:Leonardo De Prunner

title: Author:Leonardo De Prunner


text: Author:Eugène Louis Simon

title: Author:Eugène Louis Simon


text:
Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/15

 (a) When plotted in the form of a curve, the ordinates of a spectral distribution represent “intensity” per abscissa unit (frequency or wave-length, as the case may be); and the intensity concept, for the essential case of the incidence of the radiant energy upon the retina, will be: energy per second per unit area. To be completely specific, the function must express absolute values, but this is often difficult in practice.

(b) The wave-length unit which is ordinarily employed in colorimetrics is the millimicron which is correctly symbolized by mμ (not μμ).'

(c) It is to be noted that wave-length, strictly interpreted, does not furnish a reliable specification of the color-stimulating capacities of radiant energy, as the response of the visual system depends upon frequency, while wave-length may vary independently of frequency. Since wave-lengths can only be interpreted in colorimetrics as reciprocal representations of frequency, it would be desirable theoretically to employ frequency directly in formulating spectral distributions. A suggested unit of frequency is the fresnel, defined as one vibration per trillionth (10$-12$) of a second. provides means for interconverting between millimicrons and fresnels.

(d) Spectral distributions of transmission, reflection, luminosity, etc., which are often employed to specify “color,” may be regarded as constituents or as developments of the essential distribution function (vide infra).

D. —for the purposes of colorimetrics—is radiant energy, sensibly all of the intensity of which lies within a single spectral region so small as to exhibit— under the conditions most favorable for discrimination—no perceptible hue difference within the region.

E. —The purity of any sample of radiant energy, with respect to any one of its constituents, may be defined in general as the ratio of the intensity of this constituent to the total intensity of the sample. By physical purity we may mean such a

title: Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/15


text: Author:Roland Trimen

title: Author:Roland Trimen


text:
Page:Clermont - Roche (1798, volume 1).djvu/7

 A TALE. IN FOUR VOLUMES.

REGINA MARIA ROCHE,

VOL.I.

LONDON: PRINTED AT THE Minerva Press. FOR WILLIAM LANE, LEADENHALL-STREET.

1798.


text: Clermont

title: Clermont


text:
Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/289

 nor solid but a multitude of very small bodies journeying close together, was made by Professor Keeler when he applied the spectroscope to determine the velocity at which the rings rotate. It was then discovered that the inner parts revolved more rapidly than the outer parts and the only way in which such a phenomenon can be explained is to accept the hypothesis that the rings are composed of separate independent bodies.

Every 15 years the plane of the ring passes through the plane of the earth and hence it is seen edgewise to the earth. It then almost disappears, being so thin as to be seen only in the larger telescopes. Seen edgewise through the 40-inch Yerkes telescope, it is scarcely more than a streak of light "like a pair of illuminated needles piercing the ball on opposite sides." This is because all of these tiny moons which fly about Saturn are moving in the same plane. We obtained this edgewise view in 1907; in 1915 the ring was opened at its widest extent while in 1921 it was again almost invisible.

The reason that this ring may be observed at so many angles is because it is inclined about 27 degrees to the plane of the planet's orbit and about 28 degrees to the plane of the ecliptic. In the course of the earth's journey and Saturn's journey around the sun, we sometimes look up at this ring and sometimes down upon it, but when the earth lies exactly in the same plane, we look only on the edge which is so thin that it becomes almost invisible. The thickness of the ring is, indeed, scarcely anything

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/289


text:
Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/16

 ratio in which the intensity is measured in energy terms, while photometric purity may be defined as a similar quantity based upon evaluations in terms of light units. Although the choice of the particular constituent with respect to which the purity is to be estimated is necessarily more or less arbitrary, we may define—as a special case of considerable importance—the colorimetric purity, which is the ratio in luminosity terms, between the dominant homogeneous constituent and the total sample, where the “dominant homogeneous constituent” comprises a range of wave-lengths not greater than that corresponding to a single chromaticity threshold in the given spectral region, and has a dominant hue identical with that of the total sample, the intensity of the homogeneous constituent being arbitrarily so adjusted with respect to the total intensity that it can be mixed with “gray light” in such proportions as to yield a color-match with the total sample. This last definition corresponds with that of “per cent. white” in the method of colorimetry by “monochromatic analysis,” but evidently involves psychophysical considerations in so essential a manner as to have very little physical significance.

F. —The color which is evoked by any adequate stimulus depends not only upon the spectral distribution of the latter, but also upon certain further conditions which may be called those of its mode of incidence. These conditions include: (1) the type of color system possessed by the observer, (2) the portion of the retinal field stimulated, (3) the size of the field, (4) the momentary state of adaptation of the optic nervous mechanism, and (5) the excitation processes in adjacent visual areas. In accurate work these factors require specification. In general, we assume pure cone vision of the normal trichromatic system, central fixation, a size not exceeding three degrees, and a gray contrast field of the same apparent brightness as the given stimulus light. (vide infra, for conditions of pure cone vision.)

This section deals with the terminology of the relation between color and its stimulus. The study of this relation constitutes the science of color sensation.

title: Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/16


text:
Page:West African Studies.djvu/185

 only existing in the minds of cabinet ethnologists from a want of recognition of the fact of the existence of these schools.

For example, suppose you take a few facts from Ellis and a few from Bastian and mix, and call the mixture West African religion, you do much the same sort of thing as if you took bits from Mr. Spurgeon's works, and from those of some eminent Jesuit and of a sound Greek churchman, and mixed them and labelled it European religion. The bits would be all right in themselves, but the mixture would be a quaint affair.

As far as my present knowledge of the matter goes, I should state that there were four main schools of West African Fetish: (1) the Tshi and Ewe school, Ellis' school; (2) the Calabar school; (3) the Mpongwe school; (4) Nkissism or the Fjort school. Subdivisions of these schools can easily be made, but I only make the divisions on the different main objects of worship, or more properly speaking, the thing each school especially endeavours to secure for man. The Tshi and Ewe school is mainly concerned with the preservation of life; the Calabar school with attempting to enable the soul successfully to pass through death; the Mpongwe school with the attainment of material prosperity; while the school of Nkissi is mainly concerned with the worship of the mystery of the power of Earth—Nkissi-nsi. You will find these divers things worshipped, or, rather, I would say cultivated, in all the schools of Fetish, but in certain schools certain ideas are predominant. Look at Srahmantin of the Tshi people, and at Nzambi of the Fjort. Both these ladies know where the animals go to drink, what they say to each other, where their towns are, and what not; also they both know what

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/185


text:
Author:Edmund Husserl

Works

 * 1887. Über den Begriff der Zahl. Psychologische Analysen (On the Concept of Number; habilitation thesis)
 * 1891. Philosophie der Arithmetik. Psychologische und logische Untersuchungen (Philosophy of Arithmetic)
 * 1900. Logische Untersuchungen. Erster Teil: Prolegomena zur reinen Logik (Logical Investigations, Vol. 1: Prolegomena to Pure Logic)
 * 1901. Logische Untersuchungen. Zweiter Teil: Untersuchungen zur Phänomenologie und Theorie der Erkenntnis (Logical Investigations, Vol. 2)
 * 1911. Philosophie als strenge Wissenschaft (included in Phenomenology and the Crisis of Philosophy: Philosophy as Rigorous Science and Philosophy and the Crisis of European Man)
 * 1913. Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie. Erstes Buch: Allgemeine Einführung in die reine Phänomenologie (Ideas: General Introduction to Pure Phenomenology)
 * (tr.) Ideas: General Introduction To Pure Phenomenology (1931) Translated by W. R. Boyce Gibson
 * 1923–24. Erste Philosophie. Zweiter Teil: Theorie der phänomenologischen Reduktion (First Philosophy, Vol. 2: Phenomenological Reductions)
 * 1925. Erste Philosophie. Erster Teil: Kritische Ideengeschichte (First Philosophy, Vol. 1: Critical History of Ideas)
 * 1928. Vorlesungen zur Phänomenologie des inneren Zeitbewusstseins (Lectures on the Phenomenology of the Consciousness of Internal Time)
 * 1929. Formale und transzendentale Logik. Versuch einer Kritik der logischen Vernunft (Formal and Transcendental Logic)
 * 1930. Nachwort zu meinen "Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie" (Postscript to my "Ideas")
 * 1936. Die Krisis der europäischen Wissenschaften und die transzendentale Phänomenologie: Eine Einleitung in die phänomenologische Philosophie (The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology: An Introduction to Phenomenological Philosophy)
 * 1939. Erfahrung und Urteil. Untersuchungen zur Genealogie der Logik. (Experience and Judgment)

Works about Husserl

 * Review: Husserl - Philosophie der Arithmetik, The Philosophical Review, Volume 1 (1892)

title: Author:Edmund Husserl


text:
Page:West African Studies.djvu/186

 the forest says to the wind and the rain, and all the forests' own small talk in the bargain, and, therefore, also the inner nature of all these things; and both, like other ladies, I have heard prefer gentlemen's society. Women they have a tendency to be hard on, but either Srahmantin or Nzambi think nothing of taking up a man's time, making him neglect his business or his family affairs, or both together, by keeping him in the bush for a month or so at a time, teaching him things about medicines, and finally sending him back into town in so addlepated a condition that for months he hardly knows who he exactly is. When he comes round, however, if he has any sense, he sets up in business as a medical man; sometimes, however, he just remains merely crackey. Such a man was my esteemed Kefalla.

But look how different under different schools is the position of Srahmantin and Nzambi. Srahmantin is only propitiated by doctors and hunters; by all respectable, busy, family men forced to go through forests, she is simply dreaded, while Nzambi, the great Princess, entirely dominates the whole school of Nkissism.

From what cause or what series of causes the predominance of these different things has come, I do not know, unless it be from different natural environment and different race. It is certainly not a mere tribal affair, for there are many different tribes under each school. For example, I do not think you need make more than a subdivision between the Tshi, the Ga or Ogi and the Ewe peoples' Fetish, nor more than a subdivision between those of the Eboes and the Ibbibios, or those of the Fjort and Mussurongoes; but we want more information before it would be quite safe to dogmatise.

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/186


text: Clermont/Chapter 1

title: Clermont/Chapter 1


text: Clermont/Chapter 2

title: Clermont/Chapter 2


text: Clermont/Chapter 3

title: Clermont/Chapter 3


text: Clermont/Chapter 4

title: Clermont/Chapter 4


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 It is impossible in the present state of our knowledge to give exact geographical limits of the different schools of Fetish, and I therefore only sketch their geographical distribution in Western Africa, from Sierra Leone to Loanda, hoping thereby to incite further research.

Sierra Leone and its adjacent districts have not been studied by an ethnologist. We have only scattered information regarding the religion there; and unfortunately the observations we have on it mainly bear on the operations of the secret societies, which in these regions have attained to much power, and are usually though erroneously grouped under the name of Poorah. Poorah, like all secret societies, is intensely interesting, for it is the manifestation of the law form of Fetish; but secret societies are pure Fetish, and common to all districts. All that we can gather from the scattered observations on the rest of the Fetish in this region is that it is allied to the Fetish school of the Tshi-speaking people.

Next to this unobserved district, we come to the well-observed districts of the Tshi, Ewe, and Yoruba-speaking people—Ellis's region.

It may seem unwise for me to attempt to group these three together and call them one school, because from this one district we have two distinct cults of Fetish in the West Indies, Voudou and Obeah (Tchanga and Wanga). Voudou itself is divided into two sects, the white and the red—the first, a comparatively harmless one, requiring only the sacrifice of, at the most, a white cock or a white goat, whereas the red cult only uses the human sacrifice—the goat without horns. Obeah, on the other hand, kills only by poison—does not show the blood at all. And there is another important difference between Voudou and Obeah,

title: Page:West African Studies.djvu/187


text: Clermont/Chapter 5

title: Clermont/Chapter 5


text: Clermont/Chapter 6

title: Clermont/Chapter 6


text: Clermont/Chapter 7

title: Clermont/Chapter 7


text: Clermont/Chapter 8

title: Clermont/Chapter 8


text: Clermont/Chapter 9

title: Clermont/Chapter 9


text: Clermont/Chapter 10

title: Clermont/Chapter 10


text:
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 at all in comparison to its width for, although the distance from one side to the other of the entire ring is about 172,000 miles, its edge is estimated as only about 62 miles.

When the rings are open, the dark shadow of Saturn's planet may be seen against the light of these rings.

This shadow proves that the dull, yellowish glow on the planet is reflected sunlight, and that the planet does not shine with its own light, as a star.

Besides all the tiny moonlets in the beautiful ring, ten large moons whirl about the planet Saturn. These give Saturn a system with a radius of 8 million miles, which is quite extensive compared to the earth and moon system which has a radius of 240,000 miles.

The moons of Saturn range in size from about 200 miles to nearly 300 miles in diameter but being so far away only Titan, the largest, can be seen except in a large telescope. These satellites were given the names of the brothers and sisters of the God of Time and are called Mimas, Enceladus, Tethys, Dione, Rhea, Titan, Hyperion, Japetus, Phœbe and Themis.

Titan, the largest satellite, is 771,000 miles distant from the planet. The nearest one is only 117,000 miles away but there are also three others which are closer to the planet than our moon is to us. Phœbe, the most distant one, is almost 8,000,000 miles away and takes nearly 18 months to make a revolution. It appears as a full moon only once in a year and a half—quite a contrast to Mars' little Phobos who goes through his phases one and a half

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 of seeing through Christianity itself. They not only tried to be in all ages at once (which is a very reasonable ambition, though not often realised), but they wanted to be on all sides at once: which is nonsense. Swinburne tries to question the philosophy of Christianity in the metres of a Christmas carol: and Dante Rossetti tries to write as if he were Christina Rossetti. Certainly the almost successful summit of all this attempt is Pater's superb passage on the Monna Lisa; in which he seeks to make her at once a mystery of good and a mystery of evil. The philosophy is false; even evidently false, for it bears no fruit to-day. There never was a woman, not Eve herself in the instant of temptation, who could smile the same smile as the mother of Helen and the mother of Mary. But it is the high-water mark of that vast attempt at an impartiality reached through art: and no other mere artist ever rose so high again.

Apart from this Ruskinian offshoot through Pre-Raphaelitism into what was called


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 Æstheticism, the remains of the inspiration' of Carlyle fill a very large part in the Victorian life, but not strictly so large a part in the Victorian literature. Charles Kingsley was a great publicist; a popular preacher; a popular novelist; and (in two cases at least) a very good novelist. His Water Babies is really a breezy and roaring freak; like a holiday at the seaside—a holiday where one talks natural history without taking it seriously. Some of the songs in this and other of his works are very real songs: notably, '"*When all the World is Young, Lad," which comes very near to being the only true defence of marriage in the controversies of the nineteenth century. But when all this is allowed, no one will seriously rank Kingsley, in the really literary sense on the level of Carlyle or Ruskin, Tennyson or Browning, Dickens or Thackeray: and if such a place cannot be given to him, it can be given even less to his lusty and pleasant friend, Tom Hughes, whose personality floats towards the frankness of


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 the Boy's Own Paper; or to his deep, suggestive metaphysical friend Maurice, who floats rather towards The Hibbert Journal. The moral and social influence of these things is not to be forgotten: but they leave the domain of letters. The voice of Carlyle is not heard again in letters till the coming of Kipling and Henley.

One other name of great importance should appear here, because it cannot appear very appropriately anywhere else: the man hardly belonged to the same school as Ruskin and Carlyle, but fought many of their battles, and was even more concentrated on their main task—the task of convicting liberal bourgeois England of priggishness and provinciality. I mean, of course, Matthew Arnold. Against Mill's "liberty" and Carlyle's "strength" and Ruskin's "nature," he set up a new presence and entity which he called "culture," the disinterested play of the mind through the sifting of the best books and authorities. Though a little dandified in


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A. .—There are two important, general types of psychophysical functions which occur in colorimetrics, (1) a type which expresses a direct relation of dependency between a psychological color attribute (vide supra)—measured in threshold steps—and a stimulus variable, and (2) a type which formulates relations between two or more stimulus variables, such relations depending upon and expressing the conditions for the equation in one or more psychological dimensions, of the colors due to different stimuli.

B. .—An example of the second type of function appears in the color excitation curves for various visual color systems, which curves show in what proportions of intensity a number of selected color

title: Page:JOSA-Vol 06-06.djvu/17


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 phrase, he was undoubtedly serious and public-spirited in intention. He sometimes talked of culture almost as if it were a man, or at least a church (for a church has a sort of personality): some may suspect that culture was a man, whose name was Matthew Arnold. But Arnold was not only right but highly valuable. If we have said that Carlyle was a man that saw things, we may add that Arnold was chiefly valuable as a man who knew things. Well as he was endowed intellectually, his power came more from information than intellect. He simply happened to know certain things, that Carlyle didn't know, that Kingsley didn't know, that Huxley and Herbert Spencer didn't know: that England didn't know. He knew that England was a part of Europe: and not so important a part as it had been the morning after Waterloo. He knew that England was then (as it is now) an oligarchical State, and that many great nations are not. He knew that a real democracy need not live and does


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 not live in that perpetual panic about using the powers of the State, which possessed men like Spencer and Cobden. He knew a rational minimum of culture and common courtesy could exist and did exist throughout large democracies. He knew the Catholic Church had been in history "the Church of the multitude": he knew it was not a sect. He knew that great landlords are no more a part of the economic law than nigger-drivers: he knew that small owners could and did prosper. He was not so much the philosopher as the man of the world: he reminded us that Europe was a society while Ruskin was treating it as a picture gallery. He was a sort of Heavensent courier. His frontal attack on the vulgar and sullen optimism of Victorian utility may be summed up in the admirable sentence, in which he asked the English what was the use of a train taking them quickly from Islington to Camberwell, if it only took them "from a dismal and illiberal hfe in Islington to a dismal and illiberal life in Camberwell?"


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 His attitude to that great religious enigma round which all these great men were grouped as in a ring, was individual and decidedly curious. He seems to have believed that a "Historic Church," that is, some established organisation with ceremonies and sacred books, etc., could be perpetually preserved as a sort of vessel to contain the spiritual ideas of the age, whatever those ideas might happen to be. He clearly seems to have contemplated a melting away of the doctrines of the Church and even of the meaning of the words: but he thought a certain need in man would always be best satisfied by public worship and especially by the great religious literatures of the past. He would embalm the body that it might often be revisited by the soul—or souls. Something of the sort has been suggested by Dr. Coit and others of the ethical societies in our own time. But while Arnold would loosen the theological bonds of the Church, he would not loosen the official bonds of the State. You must not


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 the Church: you must not even leave the Church: you must stop inside it and think what you choose. Enemies might say that he was simply trying to establish and endow Agnosticism. It is fairer and truer to say that unconsciously he was trying to restore Paganism: for this State Ritualism without theology, and without much belief, actually was the practice of the ancient world. Arnold may have thought that he was building an altar to the Unknown God; but he was really building it to Divus Cæsar.

As a critic he was chiefly concerned to preserve criticism itself; to set a measure to praise and blame and support the classics against the fashions. It is here that it is specially true of him, if of no writer else, that the style was the man. The most vital thing he invented was a new style: founded on the patient unravelling of the tangled Victorian ideas, as if they were matted hair under a comb. He did not mind how elaborately long he made a sentence, so long as he made it


text: Clermont/Chapter 11

title: Clermont/Chapter 11


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 times every night! Phœbe seems to be possessed with a streak of contrariness for she moves in her orbit around Saturn in the opposite direction from all of the other moons.

Japetus, the second largest satellite, has the interesting peculiarity of appearing three or four times as bright when on the western side of Saturn as when on the eastern side of it. This is explained by the supposition that one of its sides has a greater reflecting power than the other and, like our moon, always has the same side toward its planet. We would, therefore, see one side of it when east of Saturn and the other side of it when west of it.

Themis, the tenth moon, was first recognized by W. H. Pickering in 1905 but it is only recently that its discovery was fully confirmed. Professor Pickering also discovered the ninth moon of Saturn.

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/291


text: Clermont/Chapter 12

title: Clermont/Chapter 12


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 clear. He would constantly repeat whole phrases word for word in the same sentence, rather than risk ambiguity by abbreviation. His genius showed itself in turning this method of a laborious lucidity into a peculiarly exasperating form of satire and controversy. Newman's strength was in a sort of stifled passion, a dangerous patience of polite logic and then: "Cowards! if I advanced a step you would run away: it is not you I fear. Di me terrent, et Jupiter hostis." If Newman seemed suddenly to fly into a temper, Carlyle seemed never to fly out of one. But Arnold kept a smile of heart-broken forbearance, as of the teacher in an idiot school, that was enormously insulting. One trick he often tried with success. If his opponent had said something foolish, like "the destiny of England is in the great heart of England," Arnold would repeat the phrase again and again until it looked more foolish than it really was. Thus he recurs again and again to "the British College of Health in the New Road" till the


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 reader wants to rush out and burn the place down. Arnold's great error was that he sometimes thus wearied us of his own phrases, as well as of his enemies'.

These names are roughly representative of the long series of protests against the cold commercial rationalism which held Parliament and the schools through the earlier Victorian time, in so far as those protests were made in the name of neglected intellect, insulted art, forgotten heroism and desecrated religion. But already the Utilitarian citadel had been more heavily bombarded on the other side by one lonely and unlettered man of genius.

The rise of Dickens is like the rising of a vast mob. This is not only because his tales are indeed as crowded and populous as towns: for truly it was not so much that Dickens appeared as that a hundred Dickens characters appeared. It is also because he was the sort of man who has the impersonal impetus of a mob: what Poe meant when he truly said that popular rumour, if really


text: The Music of the Spheres/Chapter 14

title: The Music of the Spheres/Chapter 14


text: Clermont/Chapter 13

title: Clermont/Chapter 13


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 spontaneous, was like the intuition of the individual man of genius. Those who speak scornfully of the ignorance of the mob do not err as to the fact itself; their error is in not seeing that just as a crowd is comparatively ignorant, so a crowd is comparatively innocent. It will have the old and human faults; but it is not likely to specialise in the special faults of that particular society: because the effort of the strong and successful in all ages is to keep the poor out of society. If the higher castes have developed some special moral beauty or grace, as they occasionally do (for instance, mediæval chivalry), it is likely enough, of course, that the mass of men will miss it. But if they have developed some perversion or over-emphasis, as they much more often do (for instance, the Renaissance poisoning), then it will be the tendency of the mass of men to miss that too. The point might be put in many ways; you may say if you will that the poor are always at the tail of the procession, and that whether


text: Clermont/Chapter 14

title: Clermont/Chapter 14


text: Clermont/Chapter 15

title: Clermont/Chapter 15


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 they are morally worse or better depends on whether humanity as a whole is proceeding towards heaven or hell. When humanity is going to hell, the poor are always nearest to heaven.

Dickens was a mob—and a mob in revolt; he fought by the light of nature; he had not a theory, but a thirst. If any one chooses to offer the cheap sarcasm that his thirst was largely a thirst for milk-punch, I am content to reply with complete gravity and entire contempt that in a sense this is perfectly true. His thirst was for things as humble, as human, as laughable as that daily bread for which we cry to God. He had no particular plan of reform; or, when he had, it was startlingly petty and parochial compared with the deep, confused clamour of comradeship and insurrection that fills all his narrative. It would not be gravely unjust to him to compare him to his own heroine, Arabella Allen, who "didn't know what she did like," but who (when confronted with Mr. Bob


text: Clermont/Chapter 16

title: Clermont/Chapter 16


text: Clermont/Chapter 17

title: Clermont/Chapter 17


text: Clermont/Chapter 18

title: Clermont/Chapter 18


text: Clermont/Chapter 19

title: Clermont/Chapter 19


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 for your hands upon that day to do, are not those higher blessings still 1 And yet they are but a few, a very few, of the myriad blessings which might be enumerated as so common, and so liberally dispensed, that we seldom think of giving them their true name, and, every hour of our lives, pass them by without thanks, without thought, without recognition.

Oh! then, you who would escape the sin and penalty of ingratitude to Heaven, resolve that it shall be one of the daily duties of your life, one of its indispensable employments, to seek out and sum up each day's blessings, and grave them ineffaceably upon your memory. The very habit will multiply their number, will increase their value, will wake some grateful pulse in the most thankless heart, and draw down some ray of light through the darkest gloom that can encompass the most troubled spirit.

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 He observed that she seemed somewhat distrait to-night. Her hands fluttered nervously, little lines of concern wrinkled her forehead, and her glance kept wandering around as though she were looking for somebody yet hoping that she wouldn't see him.

"What'sa matter, baby?" asked Tony expansively.

"Nothing. I just don't feel very well."

"Aw, cheer up! Let's dance!"

They rose and moved out on the small, crowded floor, quite the handsomest couple in the place. Jane was a superb dancer and Tony, with his native Latin grace and sense of rhythm, equally good. Nobody watching them would have dreamed that they both had killed, not in the heat of passion, but coolly and deliberately—for money; and that they would kill again whenever the occasion seemed to demand. And yet they were not murderers, except legally. In their own minds, they felt completely justified for everything they had done. And their operation never had been and never would be the slightest menace to the general public. When they stalked with murderous intent, they invariably were after some certain person who "had it coming to him" and who would have

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 done the same to them without any more compunction than they showed. And they always took care not to harm innocent bystanders.

When the cabaret's gayety was at its height in the wee hours, Tony saw Katherine Merton, the mysterious girl who, in the guise of a newspaper reporter, had visited him at headquarters and questioned him at length about many things. She was seated now on the other side of the club, attired in a somewhat daring evening gown of flashing sequins, and escorted by a dark, handsome man in a dinner jacket, whose general appearance, somehow, was anything but reassuring to Tony.

He wondered suddenly why she was here, if there was anything behind her presence beyond participation in the general gayety. The possibility worried him. He wondered if she had seen him, and hoped she had not.

"Say, Baby," he said, "do you know that dame over there, the one with the diamond dress?"

Jane turned and her glance searched the room. When she finally saw the mysterious girl, her eyes widened and she bit her lip.

"No," she answered sharply. Then: "Let's go!"

Puzzled, Tony escorted her from the club. He knew she had lied. But why? Newsboys were

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 crying the early editions of the morning papers. Tony bought one, then his face set and an involuntary “Hell!” burst from his lips.

"What's the matter?" asked Jane anxiously.

"Steve missed, the damn dumb-bell!" snarled Tony.

The girl took the paper from him and looked at it. An attempt had been made that night on the life of Schemer Bruno, now leader of the North Side gang. But miraculously he had come through it unscathed. Questioned by police, he had admitted that he had an idea who was behind the attack but had refused to give them any information. It was thought by the police that the attack meant the beginning of a new gang war.

"The clumsy fool!" snarled Tony. "I should have known better than to trust that job to him. Now Bruno will be after us right. And he'll be so careful himself that we may not be able to get another crack at him for a hell of a while."

“Oh, Tony, that worries me!” said Jane. “You must be very careful.”

He drove home in wordless wrath, his active mind racing with murderous plans for annihilating his enemies. In front of the luxurious apartment house where they lived he stopped and let Jane out.

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 “I'll put the car away and be right back,” he said absently.

At the corner he swung to the left and headed for the garage a block away. Suddenly the angry whine of a heavy car approaching from the rear at high speed obtruded itself into his consciousness. Instantly suspicious, he increased his own speed. But the other car came alongside. He could see that it was long and low and black, with side curtains in place—the typical death car. Then a thin red stream burst from its side, he heard the rattle of machine-gun fire, and bullets tattooed against the side of his own car. But the body of his sedan was heavy steel and the glass was bullet-proof. It shed bullets as a duck does water. Yet these enemies, whoever they were, would not be satisfied until they had accomplished their murderous mission.

He realized that he dare not go into the garage for the death car would follow and finish him there. And the employees would be of no help. He must get to his own district, where these men would hardly dare follow and where, if they did, his gangsters always loafing around that all-night cigar store on the ground floor of the hotel which was his

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 headquarters would come to his assistance and make short work of them.

Abruptly he pressed the accelerator to the floor and the big car leaped forward. At a crazy pace he raced through the dark, deserted city streets. And that other car hung doggedly to his trail. Several times they gained slightly, coming almost close enough to use their guns again. But always he managed to keep ahead of them.

On and on and on went that strange race, for him a race for life, for them a race for death—his death; careening around corners, streaking along on the straightaway. If only he could reach his headquarters before something happened. Surely they would not dare to follow him there.

From behind came the stuttering rat-tat-tat of machine-gun fire again. Two of his tires, evidently pierced by the bullets, blew out with loud reports. The car slewed to the right, struck the curb with terrific force and turned over. Tony felt himself falling then everything went black.

When he regained consciousness he was lying prone but in an uncomfortably cramped position. There was a carpet under him and feet all around him and he was aware of a jolting, swaying motion. Abruptly he realized that he was on the floor

title: Page:Scarface.pdf/179


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PARE moments are the gold-dust of time!" Like a chime of silver bells those words ring in our ears as we hover about thee, gentle-hearted Mabel,—violet that perfumes all the house!—and watch thee, and marvel at thee, day after day. Marvel at the spirit of accomplishing that seems thy helpful, yet unobtrusive attendant; at the soundless motions of that invisible but inseparable companion, as she walks by thy side, and lends her cunning to thy hands, and infuses her spirit of achieving into thy brain.

Our Mabel is never fussy, never bustling, never hurried. She never flies, with a whirlwind rush, from occupation to occupation, and creates a tornado-like atmosphere around her. She never goes pantingly about, her quickened breath and hastened step giving the impression that she is driven by the whip of some pursuing, inexorable Duty. In short, she never seems oppressively busy. You never hear from her pleasant lips the ejaculation, "so much to do!" as an excuse for neglecting this or that matter which ought to have received

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 of a car tonneau and that the car was moving. It couldn't be his car. Then it must be that of the enemy. He sat up, wildly staring about him. There were two men in the rear seat but it was too dark to distinguish their faces.

"He ain't dead, after all," said a strange voice. "Jeez! ain't that too bad?"

"What the hell's the idea?" demanded Tony.

"You'll know soon enough."

"Well, let me up on the seat there. This is too damned uncomfortable."

He tried to get up and found that he was weak and very dizzy. One of the men reached out and jerked him into the seat between them. He could see now that the front seat also contained two men.

"You want to enjoy this ride, kid!" snarled a voice in his ear. "Because it's the last one you'll ever take."

Tony's heart almost stopped. He'd faced danger and been in tight places before; but never a situation like this. He was being taken for a ride, about to be made the victim of the most feared and the most conclusive of all the means gangland used for ridding itself of its enemies. He turned to the man who had spoken.

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 "This is some of that damn crooked North Side outfit, I suppose," he said bitterly.

“Yes.”

“Who the hell are you?”

"Me?" The man laughed mirthlessly, a menacing laugh strangely like the rattling of a snake about to strike. “I'm Jerry Hoffman's brother.”

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 requires a steady trigger finger can't be. Tony was thinking. Not with frantic, chaotic haste; but coldly, deliberately, resourcefully.

The hopelessness of his situation did not appall him. It merely stimulated that abnormally keen animal cunning which had made him, while still in the twenties, the most daring and powerful gang leader in that city noted for daring and powerful gang leaders.

And at last his agile mind found a possibility—focused upon it. It was a mad scheme; the chances were a hundred to one against his coming out of it alive even if it worked. He realized that, yet experience had taught him that a plan seemingly impossible of success sometimes succeeded because people thought nobody would be silly enough to try it. As things stood, he was sure to be dead within an hour; if he attempted his mad plan, he had a bare chance. He decided without a second thought to assume the risk.

Calmly, coolly, he bided his time, sitting there in the tonneau of the big car between two of his captors while the other two occupied the front seat. At last he saw a car approaching from the other direction. His gaze narrowed as he tried to gauge

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 their relative speeds and the distance between them.

Then, with a sudden, panther-like spring, he leaped forward, launching a terrific blow at the chauffeur's head and grabbing for the wheel. The speeding car staggered crazily. But the surprised driver was still hanging on. Tony was battering the man's head, trying to strangle him, with one hand while he tugged at the wheel with the other. He felt blows raining on his own head and back, then a gun flashed and roared in the tonneau and he felt a sharp burning in his side. But he gritted his teeth and stuck to his task.

The big car swerved to the right, dropped into the ditch with a blinding crash, then turned over and over, its engine racing madly with a shrill, agonized whine, and finally came to rest on its side, still quivering, like a stricken animal.

Tony piled on top of the other two men who had been with him in the tonneau, shook his whirling head in an effort to clear it. His whole body seemed to be only a mass of excruciating pains, but he was still conscious. He realized dully that none of the others had moved or spoken. His left arm was twisted under him in an unnatural way. He tried to move it and found he couldn't. It was

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 hurting terribly, too. Cautiously he reached out with his right hand, feeling the pockets of his inert companions. Finding a familiar bulge, he reached in and pulled out a .45 automatic.

The feel of the cold steel against his flesh, the realization that he was armed again, revived him like cold water. He struggled upward, seeking a way out of the twisted wreckage. Then he heard approaching footsteps clicking on the frozen ground and a shadowy figure appeared beside the overturned car. That was somebody from the other automobile, of course; he had counted on that.

"Say!" he said hoarsely, and was provoked to find his voice shaky. "Help me out of here, will you?"

A flashlight was snapped on, then its conic yellow beam penetrated the tonneau and finally came to rest on his face.

"Sure!" said the stranger. "But I'm surprised any of you are alive. God! That was an awful sight!"

He helped Tony out through a smashed and twisted door, then turned his light on the others. The driver and his companion were obviously dead, their faces horribly cut by the broken glass. The

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 two men in the tonneau were unconscious but looked to be alive.

"Come on, let's go," said Tony.

"But the others—" objected the stranger in amazement.

"To hell with the others!" snarled Tony harshly. "They're gangsters and they was takin' me for a ride. I hope they're all dead. I guess I ought to make sure—"

He produced the pistol and aimed at the two inert figures in the tonneau.

"For God's sake!" gasped the stranger, laying a trembling hand on his arm. "Don't! You can't—"

Tony turned and stared at him for a moment, then shrugged contemptuously and allowed his gun hand to drop to his side. He had decided that it would probably be best not to do any murdering before a witness, especially when he needed that witness badly for the next half hour.

"All right!" he growled. "But you're goin' to take me where I want to go, and take me fast. Come on!"

He prodded the stranger with the automatic then almost grinned as the man shivered and hastily began leading the way back to his own car parked

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 on the road. Tony ordered the man to make all speed for the gang's headquarters then silently settled back in the seat with a sigh of relief and began making plans for vengeance. But his own misery would not allow his mind to dwell on that enticing problem. His left arm was broken; his right side throbbed and burned from the bullet wound; he found it impossible to assume a position which was even remotely comfortable. And pain and warm little trickles warned him that his own face had not escaped the flying glass. Altogether he felt, and imagined that he looked, a total wreck.

The man beside him obviously was burning up with curiosity. Several times he tried to question his passenger but Tony either answered in grunts or not at all and he finally gave it up. But he drove like fury; they pulled up before the hotel gang headquarters much sooner than Tony expected.

"You're all right," said the gang leader briefly, reaching for his wallet. He found it contained three hundred and forty dollars and generously thrust the whole wad of bills into the surprised stranger's still trembling hand. "There's a little gas money," he said with an attempt at a smile.

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 Then his face sobered into a frown and his voice came hoarsely from between gritted teeth, "But keep your mouth shut about this!" he commanded savagely. "Or you'll get what they tried to give me to-night."

Even at that hour of the morning, there were a few gangsters lounging in the all-night cigar store and in the small, dark lobby of the hotel. Tony's entrance in such a condition created a sensation and they all looked eagerly curious.

"Been in an automobile wreck," volunteered Tony curtly, then immediately ascended to his own private quarters on the top floor and called a doctor.

An hour later, his wounds dressed and his broken arm set, Tony went to bed. He felt certain he would be unable to sleep, yet it was after noon when he awakened. Laboriously he hauled his weary, battered frame out of bed and tried to dress. But with only one arm, and it so stiff and sore that he could hardly move it, he had to call Al, the little, rat-faced doorkeeper to help him.

Fortunately Tony kept part of his extensive wardrobe at the hotel; he would have looked funny transacting the day's business in evening dress.

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 He had a big breakfast sent up then went to his desk and sent for Steve Libati. And his eyes flashed as he gave the order. This was to be a day of settling scores.

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