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Munsey's Magazine/A Conflict of Authorities

A Conflict of Authorities

HROUGH a congenital defect Jimmy Claney walked on the sides of his feet; but having never known the advantages of straight legs, just as he had never known eider-down comforters or a bath-tub—both of which are things of habit—he got along very cheerfully. For physical agility he substituted mental rapidity and a crooked, shrewd little smile.

“Extry!” he would cry. “Forty-one dagos blown to pieces eatin' dynamite in their spaghetti!” or “Terrible traction accident—motorman swallowed his quid of tobacco!”

But for a couple of months Jimmy's invention had failed. He still sat on the fire-plug at the entrance to the roller-skating hall over the market, but he rarely smiled. He was scarcely curious when one day the whir and roar of the skates over his head, and the monotonous throb of the band, gave way to quiet and decorum. It was only when Hop Jenkins, a one-legged bootblack, was attracted by the “admission free” card and paid the exhibit up-stairs a call, that Jimmy was roused to interest.

“Y' oughter go up,” Hop reported. “There's a nurse up there, and she showed me around. It's how to cure sick folks—all about sleepin' with yer head out the winder, and not spittin' around.”

“Aw, gwan!” Jimmy had responded. “What you goin' to do if you don't spit?”

After which retort he shuffled home; but he was turning over in his mind, skeptically, what he had just heard. As he reached the landing of the tenement he could hear a persistent cough from down the dirty hall, and he drew a long breath. Near at hand Mrs. Simmons's voice rose above the hissing of her fried potatoes and stabbed his soul.

“I don't know who'll take the boy,” she said, “and him crippled. He's a good boy, too, Jimmy is. If I didn't have so many—”

“Old fool!” the boy muttered savagely; and to fill an interval when his voice got in his throat and strangled him, he dug a piece of plaster from the broken wall and fired it at the Simmons's cat. Then he went on.

Jimmy ate his supper from a plate on his lap. The whir of the heavy, old-fashioned sewing-machine seemed to fill the little room, and in the lamplight the boy surreptitiously watched his mother's face.

“How's the cough to-day?” he asked finally. It was always “the cough” between them, and then only incidentally, as one might mention the weather, or the crying of the Levinsky baby.

His mother did not answer. She was busy counting a double stack of trousers piled on the bed. Jimmy didn't wait. He launched into a description of Hop's visit to the City Hall, and ended with a suggestion that they “take in the show.”

“It's a free blow,” he ended, “and you could get Mrs. Simmons's straw hat.” The etiquette of Cherry Row forbade felt head-gear after the middle of May.

It required finesse to borrow the hat without telling its owner where it was to be worn. It necessitated diplomacy to get his mother to wear it, and there was a further scramble for Jimmy to find a pair of stockings to draw over his old ones, thus hiding deficiencies in both pairs. And there was the final and greatest struggle of all—to get Mrs. Claney up the steps and into the lighted hall, when they finally arrived.

“Maybe they won't let us in,” she said timidly.

“Sure they will,” Jimmy asserted. “There's a guy there now shootin' off his face.”

The nurse of Hop's description was just inside the door. Jimmy was not shy, and he shuffled over to her.

“Me mother an' me'd like to look around,” he said. “No objection, is there?”

“None at all.” The nurse smiled a little. “That's what the things are here for. If you have anybody who is—not well, I could show you—”

Jimmy shrank back.

“We haven't nobody,” he said, glancing uneasily at his mother's timid figure near the door. “That is, me mother has a cough, but that's all.” He walked away a few steps, then he came back. “You needn't speak about the cough to her,” he said confidentially. “She's always had it.”

Through a maze of model open-air shacks, of outdoor sleeping-bags and porch tents, Jimmy led his mother. When the nurse came up she found him alone, stooping before a photograph of a woman in a bed on a fire-escape. Below, all around, were chimneys and blackened roofs.

“Did she get better?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward the picture.

“Yes, she got better,” said the nurse. “It's all a matter of plenty of air, you see—air day and night.”

The picture was something Jimmy could comprehend. He took a deep breath and straightened up.

“We've got a fire-escape,” he said.

When Mrs. Claney was somewhat rested, they started home. As they went, Jimmy paved the way for his new plan.

“Say,” he began diplomatically, “do you remember when the police let us sleep on the park benches last summer? Didn't the air feel good? That there woman back there said when folks got used to sleepin' out they never wanted to sleep inside again.”

Mrs. Claney waited to cough a little. “I always thought night air was as good as poison,” she objected.

“I guess it's all air,” Jimmy said largely, “only one you see and one you don't.” Which seemed to settle the argument. “I was thinkin',” he went on, “that we don't have enough air in the room nights. How'd it be if we made a bed on the fire-escape and took turns at it? Wouldn't the Levinskys open their eyes?”

It took all Jimmy's art to persuade his mother to the innovation. It was Jimmy who spread the old mattress on the iron slats, who draped the railing with an old-fashioned patchwork quilt; and it was Jimmy who crept up-stairs after his mother had been tucked into her airy couch and requésted the Levinskys not to upset the milk-pitcher on the fire-escape over her head.

There was little sleep for mother or son that night. Jimmy sat on the window-sill until very late, until his twisted feet went to sleep and his eyelids grew heavy. His mother coughed very little. She lay peacefully, watching the stars overhead, and now and then wistfully looking at the boy's old-young face. Once she held out her hand, and Jimmy sheepishly slipped his own little rough paw into it.

It was a night of dreams. When the moon came out, the little jets of steam from the big warehouse next door looked like vanishing angels, and the stair of the fire-escape going up and up was a Jacob's ladder leading to heaven. The heat of the street was far below; indeed, the earth seemed to have dropped away, and the sky was very close.

At ten o'clock next morning big Pat Donlon, seeing Jimmy at his old post by the market-house, sauntered over to him.

“Look here, young un,” he said, not unkindly, “you got to cut out that sleepin' on the fire-escape.”

“It's our fire-escape,” Jimmy replied doggedly. “It don't hurt nobody, me mother sleepin' there.”

The policeman moved on a few steps pompously; then he turned around.

“Cut it out,” he said impressively. “It's again' the law, and if there was a fire there'd be trouble.”

Jimmy's passions were elemental, his revolt against authority cyclonic. Hop's heavy wooden box went flying through the air; it struck a little low and caught Mr. Donlon at the back of the knees. He doubled up with amazing swiftness, and in that instant of collapse Jimmy disappeared. In the constant warfare of the street boys against authority, for once the law was laid low. Nobody had seen Jimmy; no one knew even the direction his flight had taken. Decidedly, the sentiment of the quarter was in his favor. Was not a man's fire-escape his castle, his veranda, or his refrigerator, as he chose?

At the end of fifteen minutes Jimmy crawled from under a delicatessen-stand and put a new resolve into action. His rights as an American citizen being impugned, he would appeal to the law. He went down to Alderman O'Toole's and stumped in. Donlon was there, talking across the desk with Mr. O'Toole and straightening his dented helmet.

“There's the little divil now,” he said, as much surprised as Jimmy.

“Don't ye touch me!” Jimmy yelled, but he did not retreat. Instead, he came directly to the. desk.

“Well?” said O'Toole severely, with a twinkle in his eye.

“It's like this,” Jimmy began, bold in his confidence that justice would be done. “Me mother—she ain't been very well; she's had a cough, and she didn't eat. Yesterday I heard of a cure—how sleepin' out on a fire-escape'd make her better. Las' night she slep' out, and to-day this here guy says it's agin the law. 'That's why I slammed him.”

“'Obstructing fire-escapes,'” quoted the alderman. “Better have her sleep inside, Jimmy. There's entirely too much use made of those fire-escapes, anyhow. If a fire ever gets any headway there, there'll be something doing. Next case!”

Jimmy stepped forward desperately. “It was the air,” he tried to explain. “She's got to have air. What kind of a place is it where you can't even have air?”

A titter went around the room, and the alderman, who was popular in the ward, and with reason, reached over and patted the boy's shoulder.

“You keep your mother in out of the night air, my lad, if you want her to get better,” he said, “and here's a dollar for some cough-medicine.”

Officer Donlon was apoplectic with rage as Jimmy went out. As for the boy, his soul was chaos. With his instinct for getting to the bottom of things, he went directly to the market-house, and up the stairs. The hall was almost empty. He looked at the picture of the woman in bed on the fire-escape. Yes, there she was, cozy and smiling, with an umbrella over her head and a flower-pot on the window-sill.

The nurse recognized him and came up.

“Well,” she queried, “did you try the fire-escape?”

Jimmy searched the woman's face with suspicious eyes.

“Say”—he waved a hand vaguely around the hall—“put me on, won't you? Is it a bluff?”

For a moment the nurse was staggered. Then she took the boy by the arm and led him to a small private office, where sat a young man with a cigarette, which the nurse pretended not to see.

“Now, you tell him the whole thing,” she said; and being a wise woman, she left them to talk, man to man.

the early spring vegetables in the market had given way to heaps of fragrant green corn, and that in its turn to baskets of cool, dusky grapes, Jimmy came back to his old stand at the corner. He came slowly, but his old shuffling gait was gone forever. The market people stared, for Jimmy's legs were straight. Straight! And the familiar crooked smile spread over a face rotund and sunburnt as the ward had never seen it.

“Me mother?” he said, in response to Mrs. Simmons's hesitating inquiry. “Say, you oughter see her. Bustin' out of her clothes she is, and they're that stuck on her at the home they want her to stay and help run it. Me? I came down to the city to go to night-school. I'm goin' back every week. Extry, terrible explosion! Alderman O'Toole blown up—by the boss!”

Mary Roberts Rinehart


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 me life again to-day. I have freed myself from error. I have come to know my master.

"I used to say that there was going on in my body, in the body of this grass, in the body of this beetle,"—the beetle did not want to go to the other stalk, but spread its wings, and flew away,—"incessant change of matter, in conformity to certain physical, chemical, and physiological laws; and in all of us, together with the aspens and the clouds, and the nebulae, there was evolution. Evolution from what? into what? Endless evolution and conflict.—But was conflict with the Infinite possible? And I was surprised to find nothing along this line, in spite of my best efforts, which could reveal to me the meaning of my life, my motives, my longings. But the consciousness that there is a meaning is, nevertheless, so strong and clear, that it forms the very foundation of my existence; and I marveled and rejoiced when the muzhik said, 'To live for God, for the soul.'

"Now I can say that I know the meaning of life: it is to live for God, for my own soul. And this meaning, in spite of its clearness, is mysterious and miraculous. And such is the meaning of all existence. Yes, there is pride," said he to himself, turning over on his stomach and beginning to tie into a knot the stalks of grass, while trying not to break them. "Not only pride of intellect, but the stupidity of intellect. Yes, it is the wickedness of intellect," he repeated.

He succinctly went over in memory the course of his thought for the last two years, from the day when the idea of death struck him, on seeing his beloved brother hopelessly sick.

Then he had clearly resolved that, since man had no other prospect than suffering, death, and eternal oblivion, he must either commit suicide, or find the explanation of the problem of existence, and in such manner as to see in it something more than the cruel irony of a malevolent spirit.

But he had not done either, but continued to live, to think, and to feel. He had married, and had experienced

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Fingerprint Recognition .

NSTC Subcommittee on Biometrics, “Fingerprint Recognition Interagency Coordination Plan” January 2006.

FBI IAFIS “Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System: What is it?” 30 June 2005 .

National Institute of Standards and Technology, Computer Security Division: Computer Security Resource Center, “Personal Identity Verification (PIV) of Federal Employees/Contractors” 24 March 2006 .

Appendix
ANSI/INCITS 381-2004 Finger Image Based Data Interchange Format — This standard specifies an interchange format for the exchange of image-based fingerprint and palm print recognition data. It defines the content, format, and units of measurement for such information. This standard is intended for those identification and verification applications that require the use of raw or processed image data containing detailed pixel information.

For more information, see the following: http://www.incits.org.

ANSI/INCITS 377-2004 Finger Pattern Based Interchange Format ― This standard specifies an interchange format for the exchange of pattern-based fingerprint recognition data. It describes the conversion of a raw fingerprint image to a cropped and down-sampled finger pattern followed by the cellular representation of the finger pattern image to create the finger-pattern interchange data.

For more information, see the following: http://www.incits.org.

ANSI/INCITS 378-2004 Finger Minutiae Format for Data Interchange -- This standard defines a method of representing fingerprint information using the concept of minutiae. It defines the placement of the minutiae on a fingerprint, a record format for containing the minutiae data, and optional extensions for ridge count and core/delta information.

For more information, see the following: http://www.incits.org.

ANSI/NIST ITL 1-2000 Data Format for the Interchange of Fingerprint, Facial, & Scar Mark & Tattoo (SMT) Information — This Page 107 of 166

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Fingerprint Recognition standard defines the content, format, and units of measurement for the exchange of fingerprint, palm print, facial/mugshot, and scar, mark, & tattoo (SMT) image information that may be used in the identification process of a subject. The information consists of a variety of mandatory and optional items, including scanning parameters, related descriptive and record data, digitized fingerprint information, and compressed or uncompressed images.

For more information, see the following: ftp://sequoyah.nist.gov/pub/nist_internal_reports/sp500-245a16.pdf

ISO/IEC 19794-2 Finger Minutiae Format for Data Interchange ― This standard describes how minutiae points shall be determined, defines data formats for containing the data for general and smart card use, and details conformance information. Guidelines and values for matching and decision parameters are provided as an informative Annex. The standard defines three types of minutiae, including ridge ending and ridge bifurcation. The adopted minutiae determination strategy relies on skeletons derived from a digital fingerprint image. For more information, see the following: http://www.iso.org.

ISO/IEC FCD 19794-3 Finger Pattern Based Interchange Format ― This draft standard specifies that a fingerprint image is divided into a grid of overlapping or non-overlapping cells. At each cell, the finger pattern will be represented by a cell structure. A method to obtain the cell structure is to decompose each of the cells into a two-dimensional spectral representation such as the two-dimensional Discrete Fourier Transform (DFT). The decomposition produces spectral components, where each component can be characterized by a wavelength in the horizontal (x) and vertical (y) directions, amplitude, and a phase. For more information, see the following: http://www.iso.org.

ISO/IEC 19794- 4 Finger Image Based Interchange Format ― This standard specifies that the image shall appear to have been captured in an upright position and shall be approximately centered horizontally in the field of view. The scanning sequence and recorded data shall appear to have been from left-to-right, progressing from top-to bottom of the fingerprint. The origin of the axes, pixel location (0,0), is at the upper left hand corner of each image with the x-coordinate (horizontal) position increasing positively from the origin to the right side of the image while the y-coordinate (vertical) position increasing positively from the origin to the bottom of the image. It also specifies that the Page 108 of 166

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Fingerprint Recognition header must be CBEFF compliant. For more information, see the following: http://www.iso.org.

ISO/IEC 19794-8 Finger Pattern Skeletal Data ― This standard it is intended to be used to achieve interoperability between pattern and minutiae-based fingerprint recognition systems. It is based on the common properties shared between the spectral pattern and minutia by encoding ridges in a manner that the skeleton of the ridge provides the basis for detecting a minutia.

For more information, see the following: http://www.iso.org.

EFTS v7.1 Electronic Fingerprint Transmission Specification ― This specification covers electronic transmission of information involving fingerprints to the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System (IAFIS) based on the ANSI NIST ITL 1-2000 strandard. The purpose of this document is to specify certain requirements to which agencies must adhere to communicate electronically with the IAFIS. For more information, see http://www.fbi.gov/filelink.html?file=/hq/cjisd/iafis/efts71/efts 71.pdf.

EBTS v1.0 Electronic Biometric Transmission Specification ― This specification describes customizations of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) Electronic Fingerprint Transmission Specification (EFTS) transactions that are necessary to utilize the Department of Defense (DoD) Automated Biometric Identification System (ABIS).

FBI- WSQ (Wavelet Scalar Quantization) Fingerprint Image Compression ― WSQ is a lossy compression that is able to preserve the high resolution details of gray scale images that are usually discarded by other lossy compression algorithms. It achieves high compression ratio, on average 15:1 depending on parameters. For more information, see the ”Criminal Justice Information Services (CJIS) WSQ Gray-scale Fingerprint Image Compression Specification,” Federal Bureau of Investigation, Document No. IAFIS-IC-0110 (V3), 19 December 1997.

JPEG2000 (Joint Photographic Experts Group 2000) ― Fingerprint Image Compression is a new image coding system that uses state-of-the-art compression techniques based on wavelet technology. Its architecture should lend itself to a wide range of uses from portable digital cameras through to advanced pre-press, medical imaging and other key sectors. Page 109 of 166


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 species the present differs besides in a rather smaller mouth and much stronger subopercular armature. Vomerine and palatine teeth present.

Body stouter than in Ct. multispine or Ct. gabonense, its greatest depth being contained $15-16⁄9$ in the total length (without caudal) and nearly equal to the length of the head. The snout equals the diameter of the eye, which is contained $2⁄9-10$ in the length of the head; interorbital space rather convex, not wider than the orbit. Mouth rather narrow, the maxillary not extending to the vertical from the centre of the eye. Opercular armature weak; there are only a few spinous teeth above and below the opercular notch, and none at all on the sub- and interoperculum. The space between anal and caudal fins is equal to a diameter of the eye. Pores on the head entirely covered by scales. Five series of scales on the cheek, the lowermost covering the præopercular margin. Ventral fins reaching beyond the origin of the anal, the two outer rays being prolonged into filaments. Body with darker cross-band; an indistinct oblique irregular dark band from the eye towards the root of the pectoral.

Two specimens from the Gaboon 67 millim. long, are in the British Museum: they were collected with specimens of Ct. Petherici.

This species does not possess palatine teeth, and I am unable to see any teeth on the vomer, the head of which, however, is visible and not covered by the mucous membrane. Of course the possibility of these specimens being the young of one of the other species has been considered; but beside agreeing among themselves and differing from the other species in the number of spines, the comparative size of the eye and width of the interorbital space clearly point to their being either mature or not far removed from maturity.

{{Plainlist|style=font-size: 90%;|hanging-indent=2em|
 * Clenopoma Petherici, Günth, Ann. & Mag. Nat. Hist. 1864, xiii. p. 211, and 1867, xx. p. 110 (part.}; and in Petherick's "Travels," ii. 1869, p. 208, pl. i, fig. A.}}

The British Muscum contains a specimen the exact habitat of which is not known, but which was bought with other


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 new joys, which made him happy when he did not ponder on the meaning of life.

What did this mean? It meant that he was thinking badly, and living well. Without knowing it, he had been sustained by those spiritual verities which he had sucked in with his mother's milk, and he indulged in thought, not only now not recognizing those truths, but even strenuously avoiding them. Now it was clear to him that he could live only through the blessed influence of the faith in which he had been taught.

"What should I have been, how should I have lived, if I had not absorbed these beliefs.... if I had not known that I must live for God, and not for the satisfaction of my desires? I should have been a thief, a liar, a murderer. Nothing of what seems the chief joy of my life would have had any existence for me."

And, though he made the most strenuous efforts of his imagination, he could not picture to himself what kind of a wild creature he might have been, if he had not really known the aim of his existence.

"I was in search of an answer to my question; thought could not give it, for the problem was too lofty. Life itself, with the innate knowledge of good and evil, alone could give me an answer. And this knowledge I did not acquire. It was given to me, like all the rest; given, I could not know where to get it. Did I get it from reason? But would reason ever have proved to me that I ought to love my neighbor, instead of choking him? I was taught it in my childhood; but I believed it gladly, because it was already existent in my soul. Reason discovered the struggle for existence,—that law which demands the overthrow of every obstacle in the way of our desires. That is the result of reason; but reason has nothing to do with loving our neighbor."

remembered a recent scene between Dolly and her children. The children had been left alone, and had amused themselves by making raspberry jam over a can

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 dle, and throwing milk into each other's faces. Their mother, catching them in the act, scolded them in their uncle's presence, and sought to make them understand how much work was involved in what they were destroying, that the labor was performed for their benefit; that, if they broke the cups, they could n't have anything to drink from; and if they wasted their milk, they would n't have any more, and would starve to death.

Levin was struck by the indifference and skepticism with which the children heard their mother's words. They were only sorry to have their interesting sport interrupted, and they did not believe a word of what she said. They did not believe, because they did not know the value of what they were playing with, and did not understand that they were destroying their own means of subsistence.

"That is all very well," they thought; "but there is nothing interesting or worth while in it, because it is always the same, and always will be. And it is monotonous. We don't have to think about it, it is done for us; but we do like to do something new and original; and here we were making jam in a cup over the candle, and squirting the milk into each others' faces. It is fun. It is new, and not half so stupid as to drink milk out of a cup."

"Is it not thus that we act, is it not the way I have acted, in trying to penetrate by reasoning the secrets of nature and the problem of human life? Is it not the same that all the philosophers have done with their theories which lead, by a course of reasoning strange and unnatural to man, to the knowledge of what he long has known, and known so surely that without it he could not live? Do we not see clearly, in the development of the theory of each, that the real meaning of human existence is as indubitably known as it is known to Feodor, the muzhik; and do they see any more clearly than he does the principal meaning of life? Do they not all come back to this, even though it be by a route which is often equivocal? If we were to leave the children to get their own living, make their own utensils, do the

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 milking, instead of playing pranks, they would die of hunger.

"There, now! give us over to our own ideas and pas- sions, with no knowledge of our Creator, without the consciousness of moral good and evil, and what would be the result? We reason because we are spiritually satiated. We are children. Whence comes this joyous knowledge, which I share with the muzhik, and which alone gives me serenity of spirit? Where did I get it? Here am I, a Christian, brought up in the faith, surrounded by the blessings of Christianity, living upon these spiritual blessings without being conscious of them; and like children I have been reasoning, or at least trying to reason, out the meaning of life.

"But in the serious moments of life, in the hour of suffering, just as when children are cold and hungry, I turn to Him, and, like these same children whom their mother reprimands for their childish faults, I feel that my childish efforts to get out of the mad circle of reasoning have done me no good.

"Yes, reason has taught me nothing. What I know has been given, revealed to me through the heart, and especially through faith in the teachings of the Church.

"The Church, the Church?" repeated Levin, turning over again, and, as he rested his head on his hand, looking at a herd of cattle down by the river at a distance. "Can I really believe all that the Church teaches?" said he, to test himself, and to bring up everything that might destroy his present feeling of security. He expressly called to mind the Church teachings which more than all had seemed strange to him, and disgusted him.

"Creation? Yes; but how did I myself explain existence? existence? the devil? sin? How did I explain evil? redemption?"

"But I know nothing and can know nothing except what is told me and every one else."

And now it seemed to him that not one of these Church dogmas was inimical to the great objects of life,—faith in God, in goodness.

On the contrary, all tended to produce that greatest

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 of miracles, that which consists in enabling the whole world, with its millions of human beings, young and old, the muzhik and Lvof, and Kitty and peasants and tsars, married and single, to comprehend the same great truths, so as to live that life of the soul which alone is worth living, and which is our only aim.

Lying on his back, he looked up into the high, cloud- less sky. "Do I not know," thought he, "that that is infinity of space, and not a vault of blue stretching above me? But, however I strain my sight, I can see only a vaulted dome; and, in spite of my knowledge of infinite space, I have more satisfaction in looking at it as a blue, vaulted dome, than when I try to look beyond."

Levin stopped thinking. He listened to the mysterious voices which seemed to wake joyfully in him.

"Is it really faith?" he thought, fearing to believe in his happiness. "My God, I thank Thee!" he cried; and he swallowed down the sobs that arose, and brushed away with both hands the tears that filled his eyes.

looked away, and saw the herd, and his one-horse telyega and his coachman, who approached the herd of cattle, and began to talk to the herdsman. Then he heard the sound of wheels and the neighing of the horse; but he was so occupied with his thoughts that he did not think why it was that his coachman was coming for him.

He only realized it when the coachman, while still some distance off, cried:—

"The mistress sent for you. Your brother and another barin have come."

Levin got in at once, and took the reins.

As if awakened from sleep, it was long before he could collect his thoughts. He looked at the well-fed horse, and at the spot on his neck where the harness rubbed; and he looked at Ivan, the coachman, sitting beside him; and he thought of how he had been expect

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 ing his brother, and that his wife was probably troubled because he was gone so long, and he tried to guess who the unknown guest who had come with his brother might be. And his brother and his wife and the unknown guest now seemed to him different from what they had been before. He felt that henceforth all his relations with these friends would be more pleasant than they had been.

"Now there shall be no more of that coldness, such as there used to be, between my brother and me .... no more disputes. Nor will Kitty and I quarrel any more; and whoever my guest is I shall be polite to him, and kind to the servants and to Ivan .... all will be different."

And holding in his good horse, which was whinnying with impatience and pleading for permission to show his paces, Levin kept looking at Ivan, who was sitting next him, not knowing what to do with his idle hands, and constantly pulling down his shirt, which the wind tugged at; and in his attempt to find a pretext for beginning a conversation with the man, he thought of saying that the horse's girth was buckled up too tightly, but then this seemed like censuring him, and he wanted to say something pleasant.

"You had better turn to the right and avoid that stump," said the coachman, taking hold of one of the reins.

"Please not touch, or try to give me lessons," said Levin, exasperated by his coachman's interference. Just the same as always he was made angry by any interference with his affairs, and he immediately became conscious how mistaken he was in supposing for a moment that his new spiritual condition could keep its character unchanged on contact with the reality.

When they had arrived within a quarter of a verst of the house, Levin saw Grisha and Tania running to meet him.

"Uncle Kostia, mamma is coming, and grandpa and Sergyeï Ivanovitch and some one else," they cried, as they ran up to the cart.

"Tell me, who is it?"

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 "Oh, he's an awful, horrid man, who does so with his arms," said Tania, climbing up into the cart and mimicking Katavasof.

"Tell me, is he young or old?" asked Levin, laughing, reminded of some one by Tania's performance.

"Akh, I only hope he is not a bore," said Levin to himself.

As soon as they reached a turn in the road and saw the party approaching. Levin recognized Katavasof, who was in a straw hat, and gesticulating exactly as Tania had represented it.

Katavasof was very fond of talking philosophy, and his conceptions were wholly drawn from the natural sciences, which had always been his specialty; and in Moscow Levin had frequently had discussions with him.

And one of these discussions, in which Katavasof had evidently felt that he was victorious, occurred to Levin's mind as soon as he saw him.

"Henceforth," he said to himself, "I will not enter into discussions, or express myself so flippantly."

Leaping from the cart and joining Katavasof and his brother, he asked where Kitty was.

"She has taken Mitya to Kolok,"—Kolok was a piece of woodland near the house,—"she wanted to get him established there, it was so hot at the house," said Dolly.

Levin always advised his wife against taking the baby to the woods, because he felt it was dangerous; so this news was not pleasant to him.

"She carries that son of hers from one place to another," said the old prince. "I told her she'd better try the ice-house."

"She wanted to go to the beehives. She thought you were there," added Dolly. "That is where we were going."

"Well, what have you been doing that's good?" said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, dropping behind the others, and walking with his brother.

"Oh, nothing particular; as usual, busy with the farm

title: Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/1059


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Page:Travels in West Africa, Congo Français, Corisco and Cameroons (IA travelsinwestafr00kingrich).pdf/758

 West-African. fishes. Although this specimen differs from typical Ct. Petherici in the fin-formula, which is D.$18⁄10$, A. $9⁄11$, I refer it for the present to the Nilotic species.

In young specimens, 60 millim. long, the opercular armature and the vomerine and palatine teeth are well developed; but these specimens have the body still lower than the adult, yiz., one third of the total (without caudal); in the adult it is a little less than two fifths. The ornamental colours are prettier than in the adult, the diffuse blackish spot on the tail of the latter being a complete white-edged ocellus in the young.

style=font-size: 90%;|hanging-indent=2em|

Clenopoma Petherici, part., Günth. Ann. & Mag. Nat. Hist. 1867, xx, p. 110 (part.).

This species is allied to Ct. Petherici, but has a deeper body, and especially the young differs much from that of the Nilotic species.

The depth of the body is scarcely less than one half of the total length (without caudal), the length of the head a little less than one third. The snout is nearly equal to the diameter of the eye, which is two ninths of the length of the head; interorbital space rather convex, wider than the orbit. Mouth narrow, the maxillary extending somewhat beyond the front margin of the orbit, Vomerine teeth; palatine teeth in a very narrow linear band. A series of short spinous teeth above and below the opercular notch; subopercular and part of the interopercular margin finely and equally serrated. Tail very short, the anal terminating immediately before, or subcontinuous with, the caudal. Pores on the head entirely covered by scales, Five or six rows of scales on the cheek, the scales near the eye being much smaller than the others. Ventral fins not prolonged, reaching the vent. Soft parts of the vertical fins scaly. Blackish, a diffuse large black spot on the end of the tail, in front of the root of the caudal.

This diagnosis is taken from an adult specimen 150 millim. long; two young ones, 60 millim. long, differ in the following points:-—

Their body is somewhat less elevated (though much more than in young Ct. Petherici), its depth being contained $16-17⁄9$ times in the total length (without caudal). Interorbital space as wide as the diameter of the eye, which is one fourth of the


text:
Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/1060

 ing. You'll stay with us awhile, now? We've been expecting you a long time."

"Only a fortnight. I have a great deal to do at Moscow."

At these words the two brothers looked at one another, and Levin, in spite of his usual and now especially strong desire to have friendly, and above all simple, relations with his brother, felt that it was awkward for him to look at him. He dropped his eyes and was at a loss what to say.

Trying to select some topic of conversation which would be agreeable to Sergyeï Ivanovitch, and avoiding the Serbian war and the Slavonic question, a hint at which Sergyeï Ivanovitch's remark about his occupation in Moscow gave, Levin began to talk about his brother's book.

"Well," he asked, "have there been many reviews of your book?"

Sergyeï Ivanovitch smiled at the intention of the question.

"No one thinks anything about it,—I, least of all," he said. "You see, Darya Aleksandrovna, we're going to have a shower," he added, pointing with his umbrella to the white clouds which were piling up above the aspen-tops.

It was evident by these words that the relationship between the brothers, which Levin wanted to overcome, was just the same as of old,—if not unfriendly, at least cool.

Levin approached Katavasof.

"How good it was of you to come to us!" said he.

"I have wanted to come for a long time. Now we shall have time to talk. Have you read Spencer?"

"Not thoroughly, I don't get anything out of him."

"How so? that is interesting. Why is that?"

"I have definitely made up my mind that the answers to certain questions which interest me are not to be found in him or his followers. Now ...."

But he was suddenly struck by the pleasant and

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Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/1061

 serene expression of Katavasof's face, and he felt so sorry at having evidently disturbed his mental equilibrium by his remark, that, suddenly remembering his resolution, he stopped short. "However, we will talk about that by and by," he added. "If we are going to the apiary let us go this way, by this path," he said, turning to the others.

Passing through a narrow path along by an unmown field, covered on one side with an abundance of those bright flowers called Ivan-da-Marya, and in the midst of which grew frequent patches of the tall, dark green hellebore. Levin led his guests—who were afraid of being stung—to the cool dense shade of some young aspens, and established them on some benches and logs especially prepared for the purpose of receiving the beehives, and he himself went to the storehouse to fetch for the children, and the grown people as well, some bread, cucumbers, and fresh honey.

Trying to make as little disturbance as possible, and listening to the bees, which came flying more and more thickly around him, he strode along the path that led to the izba. At the very door, a bee entangled in his beard began to buzz, but he carefully freed himself from it. Going into the cool entry, he took his wire mask down from the peg where it hung, and put it on, and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, he went into the inclosure of the apiary, where, amid a smoothly shaven lawn, stood in straight rows on linden stakes all the old hives, each having for him its own special history, while the newer ones which had been set up that year were ranged along the wall. At the entrance of the hives he could see the young bees and the drones clustering together and tumbling over one another, while in their midst the working bees were industriously darting off in a straight line toward the forest, where the linden trees were in bloom, and quickly returning laden with their pollen.

His ears were filled with the incessant, monotonous humming made by the workers as they flew in with their burdens, by the drones enjoying their holiday, and

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Page:The Necromancer, or, The Tale of the Black Forest Vol. 2.djvu/13

 astonishing skill in detecting thefts, and recovering stolen goods; as how he has been possessed of a wonderful sagacity to read in people's looks, at first sight, whatever they had done all their life long; discovered and solved the spell of witchcraft, and horribly punished the old hags that dared to bewitch the countrymen's cattle. In short, said my father, God rest his honest soul, Father Francis has indeed been a father and a friend to every one in distress, and a baneful foe to the Black Spirit and his infernal hosts."

The Austrian appearing still to harbour thoughts of suspicion against the simple innkeeper, watched closely all his motions, was always at his heels when he left the room, and ever busy to ply him with various questions. I and my companions kept close together, myself burning with desire for the beginning of the drama, and my fellow adventurers awaiting it with fear and trembling.


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 It struck twelve when the inn-keeper was still in close conversation with the circumspect Austrian. The door opened, and father Francis entered the room; the sight of the hoary deceiver made my blood boil in my veins, and I clapt my hand involuntarily to my sword; the Austrian, who was standing at a small distance from me, hiding a part of his face under his hat, and holding a brace of pistols in his hands, seemed to ask me by a side glance, whether Father Francis and my old acquaintance in the Black Forest was one and the same person. I affirmed it by a quick motion of my eyelids, and the Austrian turned his back to the Necromancer; I removed behind Lieutenant N, and peeping over his shoulders, watched the proceedings of the juggler, who advanced with solemn steps into the middle of the apartment, where he stopped, resting his inquisitive looks on the countenances of the company.

Profound silence swayed all around, and we were fixed to the ground like so many


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Rh {| class="wikitable" ! Year of first involvement !! Country !! Nature of involvement !! Further information Libyan National Army (LNA), General Khalifa Haftar, against the UN-backed government in Tripoli in 2019-20. The offensive failed. After a ceasefire was agreed in October 2020, instead of leaving the country as stipulated, Wagner became a “logistics platform” to serve Russian interests, retaining control of military bases like Al-Khadim, Jufra, Qardabiyah and Brak al-Shati. There were estimated to be around 2,000 Wagner staff in the country in 2021. Wagner has been heavily involved in holding and guarding oilfields, training the LNA and establishing air bridges. The network’s activities in Libya “have been multifarious, ranging from specialised military operations, physical security provision at Libya’s oil facilities, political advisory services, and social media influence operations”.
 * 2018
 * Libya
 * Sustained involvement
 * Wagner personnel were deployed in October 2018 to offer technical assistance and weapons to the Libyan National Army. Up to 1,000 Wagner fighters took part in the advance of the leader of the
 * Wagner personnel were deployed in October 2018 to offer technical assistance and weapons to the Libyan National Army. Up to 1,000 Wagner fighters took part in the advance of the leader of the
 * }


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 Thus Perseus holds Algol on the Gorgon's head which flashes with "fiery snakes,"—his right hand brandishes a glittering sword, his armor is decked with stars, while the 'dust' he raised swirls in a milky path from the zenith to the trees on the horizon.

In the Sword Hand of Perseus the ancient Greeks saw the gleam of the sword borrowed from Mercury, a diamond-bladed, diamond-hilted sword, carved from a single diamond, but modern astronomers searching in the same spot discovered a more wonderful object for, through the eye of a telescope, the two nebulous patches of hazy light on the Sword Hand were resolved into countless stars! These star clusters are interesting even in a field-glass although higher powers disclose them as veritable sun-bursts of diamond-like stars. The two clusters may be located about half-way between Mirfak, the brightest star in the Segment of Perseus, and the "W" of Cassiopeia.

One might at first glance take these crowded masses of stars as an example where the great force of gravity had worked not wisely but too well; but it is only the unbelievable distance that our earth lies from these stars which makes them look so closely clustered together. Would the brighter naked-eye stars which bespangle our sky look like this—a glimmering spot—from so vast a distance? To know that our solar cluster of stars is not the only cluster in the heavens is enough to take a little of the conceit out of man's colossal opinion of himself.

A good meteor shower appears in the vicinity of the constellation of Perseus about the 10th of August. These meteors are best seen around three o'clock in the morning and have been recorded as appearing as far back as 811 This would seem to reasonably assure the annual reappearance of the spectacle but since the number of meteors is steadily decreasing there is a time in the future when it will cease to be. These meteors are popularly known as the "Tears of Saint Lawrence," mentioned as the "fiery

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 tears" in ancient legends because Saint Lawrence was burned at the stake upon the 10th of August in the "sad old days" of religious intolerance. Every year, like ghosts, his tears return and rain down from the sky in drops of fire. They fall at the rate of about one a minute. Miss Proctor, in "Half Hours with the Summer Stars," mentions a quaint old oriental legend in which the meteors are supposed to be darts which are thrown by the angels at the evil ones who are barred from heaven and eavesdrop at its gates.

The myth which is woven about the hero Perseus is a very beautiful one and a few words as to why the Greeks so loved this gallant lad might be well appreciated by those who are not familiar with the story.

Acrisius, King of Argos, was so selfish and quarrelsome that finally Jupiter, who watched over the affairs of mankind, determined to give him something real to worry about, so Acrisius was informed through an oracle that he would lose his crown and die by the hand of his own grandson. Soon after this Perseus was born, and the King was indeed terrified. His fear increased daily, finally bringing him to such a state of madness that he placed the Princess Danae, his own daughter, and her little son in a large chest and threw it into the sea.

The gods, however, watched the chest and held it steady among the roughest waves, finally stranding it in the sea-weed on the little Island of Seriphus where the wanderers were rescued and given a home.

Years passed, and the King of Seriphus grew to love Danae, but he feared Perseus who looked like a golden-haired god. One day this king planned a great feast and informed his guests that each must bring a gift as proof of his loyalty, and the gift must be either costly or rare. Since Perseus had no wealth, the king suggested that he bring to court the head of the Gorgon Medusa who lived across the sea in the wilds of a strange and distant land.

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/80


text:
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Rh {| class="wikitable" ! Year of first involvement !! Country !! Nature of involvement !! Further information Mozambique national election. Wagner provided a personal protection force for the President, and was later deployed in an operation to counter Islamist extremists in Cabo Delgado. This was a major failure and Wagner fighters had to withdraw south by November that year. In addition, the Wagner Network offered political assistance to Nyusi’s party via an illegitimate electoral monitoring mission conducted by the Association For Free Research And International Cooperation (AFRIC). The International Anticrisis Centre (IAC), another Prigozhin-linked entity, also carried out questionable polling in the country in support of Nyusi’s Frelimo party.
 * 2019
 * Mozambique
 * Temporary involvement
 * Wagner fighters started arriving in Mozambique in September 2019, after an agreement on security and energy between Presidents Nyusi and Putin, shortly before the October 2019
 * Wagner fighters started arriving in Mozambique in September 2019, after an agreement on security and energy between Presidents Nyusi and Putin, shortly before the October 2019
 * }


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Rh countries. The FCDO acknowledged that “Wagner have had a clear effect on our ability to partner” in Mali. Anti-France campaigns built on pre-existing opposition to the country, due to its colonial legacy. The UK may be similarly vulnerable.

Regional instability: The breakdown of national order can have major regional consequences and Wagner activities can make this more likely. In April, conflict broke out in Sudan, which resulted in the displacement of nearly 3 million people internally and across borders. Wagner activities were a contributory factor to the breakdown of order in Sudan. Within Africa, where the network has its most extensive geographic footprint, the presence of Wagner troops increases the likelihood of violence (including gender-based violence), corruption, autocracy, conflict escalation, the displacement of people, and greater competition over resources. All of these go against the desire of the UK Government to enhance stability, reduce fragility and counter threats to UK nationals abroad. Migratory flows can increase pressures on neighbouring countries, which themselves may be fragile or conflict-affected.

Threats to the international order: The UK Government believes that countries have a “shared higher interest in an open and stable international order”, but use of malign proxy groups in warfare weakens this. There may also be risks to the UK of being seen not to stand up for its values.

Emboldening of violent groups: The failure of the Wagner Network to effectively counter terrorist or insurgent groups can allow hostile groups to obtain further advantage, secure more weapons and consolidate (or even gain) territories. We also received evidence from a former Wagner fighter suggesting that Prigozhin once bought a batch of weapons and ammunition directly from Hezbollah.

30. There are serious national security threats to the UK and its allies of allowing the network to continue to thrive, not to mention devastating human consequences, including contributing to the refugee crisis for example, Sudan.

31. Over the past year and a half, Russia's illegal invasion of Ukraine has eroded the Wagner Network’s deniability and Prigozhin’s public arguments with the Russian


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Rh steps into that fold. We are also aware of the Turkish-headquartered SADAT increasing its presence across the continent of Africa. It has been operating since at least 2013, including in Libya and Sudan.

76. The UK Government does not wish to disincentivise the use of PMCs in general, as their activity as “not necessarily illegal or harmful”. Other contributors emphasised the need to recognise that such companies can make a positive contribution to security. However, the Government recognised that the “malign use of PMCs as proxies of States increasingly forms part of an intensified competition over norms and values”. The Government appears to think it can manage these risks. We disagree. The Ministry of Defence has a “policy framework to understand where and how the use and activities of PMCs threatens UK interests and values”. As the Government has not provided this to us, however, we do not know which PMCs it considers a threat or why, nor are we aware of what the Government does with this information. Overall, we perceived the coordination of analysis across Government to be poor.

77. The Government has underlined that the rules of international law governing state relations with PMCs are “well-established”. If true, this would make it considerably easier to challenge states whose malign use of PMCs falls foul of these rules. However, other evidence disputes the clarity of international rules. There is no widely agreed international legal definition of a Private Military Company, and there are ambiguities over the status of PMC employees under international humanitarian law. We were also told that the legal tests to meet the term ‘mercenary’ are “near impossible” to fulfil, due to


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Rh {| class="wikitable" !Name of sanctioned individuals, starting with surname (with supporting information from the time of designation) !! Sanctioned by the US? !! Sanctioned by the EU? !! Sanctioned by the UK?
 * PRIGOZHINA, Violetta Kirovna
 * PRIGOZHINA, Violetta Kirovna

The mother of Yevgeniy PRIGOZHIN. There are reasonable grounds to suspect that Violetta Kirovna PRIGOZHINA is associated with Yevgeniy Viktorovich PRIGOZHIN, and has obtained a financial benefit or other material benefit from him. (UK designation)
 * No
 * Yes
 * Yes
 * PROKOPENKO, Ivan Pavlovitch
 * PROKOPENKO, Ivan Pavlovitch

A Russian official at the rank of colonel, equivalent or higher, involved in supporting the recruitment of soldiers to the Wagner Network and thus supporting destabilising activities in Ukraine (UK designation).
 * Yes
 * No
 * Yes
 * SHAMMOUT, Abu Hani
 * SHAMMOUT, Abu Hani

A former Syrian military officer charged by Wagner Group to recruit veterans as mercenaries (EU designation).
 * No
 * Yes
 * Yes
 * SHCHERBAKOY, Sergey Vladimirovich
 * SHCHERBAKOY, Sergey Vladimirovich

Freelance employee of GRU and Wagner mercenary in Ukraine (EU designation)
 * No
 * Yes
 * No
 * SHUGALEY, Maxim
 * SHUGALEY, Maxim

Conducts pro-Wagner propaganda (EU designation)
 * No
 * Yes
 * No
 * SRABIONOY, Tigran Khristoforovich
 * SRABIONOY, Tigran Khristoforovich

Involved in Wagner's acquisition of Iranian UAVs to support combat operations in Ukraine (U.S. designation)
 * Yes
 * No
 * No
 * SYTII, Dmitry (a.k.a. SYTII, Dmitry Sergeevich (a.k.a. SYTYI, Dmitry)
 * SYTII, Dmitry (a.k.a. SYTII, Dmitry Sergeevich (a.k.a. SYTYI, Dmitry)

Prigozhin’s employee and the founder of Lobaye Invest. Sytii has also worked for the Internet Research Agency. Involved in Prigozhin’s CAR operations since 2017 (U.S. designation)
 * Yes
 * Yes
 * No
 * TENSIN, Alexey.
 * TENSIN, Alexey.

Director of joint-stock company ‘PMC Wagner Centre’ (EU designation)
 * No
 * Yes
 * No
 * TRONIN, Alexander.
 * TRONIN, Alexander.

Founder and curator of a young wing of Wagner, operating on the premises of ‘PMC Wagner Centre’. (EU designation).
 * No
 * Yes
 * No
 * }


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Rh

 * Alicia Kearns
 * Sir Chris Bryant
 * Neil Coyle
 * Drew Hendry
 * Henry Smith
 * Graham Stringer

Draft Report (Guns for gold: the Wagner Network exposed), proposed by the Chair, brought up and read.

Ordered, That the draft Report be read a second time, paragraph by paragraph.

Paragraphs 1 to 90 read and agreed to.

A Paper was appended to the Report as Appendix 1.

A Paper was appended to the Report as Appendix 2.

Summary agreed to.

Resolved, That the Report be the Seventh Report of the Committee to the House.

Ordered, That the Chair make the Report to the House.

Ordered, ‘That embargoed copies of the Report be made available (Standing Order No. 134).

Adjourned till Tuesday 5 September at 2.00 pm.


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 with incurable diseases have been wonderfully converted and healed by the power of God. Sinners are converted and flock to Jesus for salvation; and Christians are baptized with the Holy Ghost.

''I wish all the saints in the pentecostal movement had a copy of Sister Etter’s book. It is such a help to faith! There has been no such record written since the “Acts of the Apostles” recording  such continuous victories by the Lord im our day over sin and sickness, as this book.''

(Reprinted from the Daily Times Herald.)

At the apostolic meeting, hundreds of people are being healed —acres of people are at the tent every night. We don’t have to believe what the papers have said about Mrs. Etter in California, Iowa, or Indiana; but go to the tent, see with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears the mighty works of God. People are coming from Oklahoma, Arkansas and Georgia to be healed.

Elmer Hooper, 36 years old, from McAlester, Okla., born deaf and dumb, healed instantly.

Mrs. Chelve Mallock, 3112 Boulevard St., Dallas, Texas, last stage of consumption, perfectly healed.

Come on, “Bud,” don’t stand back on your old graveyard “theology” and miss the blessing. God is in Dallas working miracles. Everybody is coming, everybody praising God. Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Campbellites and Catholics. If you stand off one hundred yards in the edge of the crowd you might suppose that John the Baptist had been resurrected, or John Bunyan, or John Knox, or John Calvin, or John Wesley, and the crowd had old time religion.

(Extracts reprinted from The Bridegroom’s Messenger, Vol 5, No. 120.)

God is still wonderfully displaying his power in Dallas, Texas, bearing witness to the preaching of the gospel “both with signs and wonders, and divers miracles and gifts in the Holy Ghost.”

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Rh {| class="wikitable" ! Details !! Location !! Position !! Notes on Wagner link
 * Name: Jose Matemulane
 * Name: Jose Matemulane

Aliases: José Matemulane; José Zacarias Samuel José Matemulane

Nationality: Mozambican
 * Unknown
 * Director of AFRIC (an Matemulane entity sanctioned by the US Government)
 * Matemulane has attended events such as the 2019 Russia-Africa Summit in Sochi, which was likely a recruiting event for the Kremlin.

One open source claims that Matemulane directed AFRIC from Maputo, Mozambique. Some of Matemulane’s activities through AFRIC include meddling in the 2018 Zimbabwe general elections under the guise of “election observation”.
 * }

The table below draws together key Wagner-linked entities identified by CIR. They are not widely sanctioned.


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 Throngs pack the large tent at every service, many of them coming from other states. Already great numbers of people have come from 100 to 2,000 miles, bringing their sick and afflicted. Letters are pouring in from all parts of the United States and Canada, as many as forty in a single day, inquiring about the meeting, and requesting prayer for healing.

A man came several hundred miles, suffering with three broken ribs, caused by a fall. As impossible as it may seem, when hands were laid upon him and the prayer of faith was offered, immediately the soreness left, and the broken ribs, the ends of which had turned inward, came into place and knitted together spontaneously, and although a few minutes before he flinched from pain when Sister Etter laid her hands upon his side, after healing he could pound upon these ribs with his hands—the healing was perfect. He was also a backslider and was wonderfully reclaimed.

A full-blooded Choctow Indian woman came from Oklahoma, a great sufferer for thirty-eight years with a running sore on her foot, caused by a cow stepping on it when she was sixteen years of age. It was a mass of proud flesh, and the odor was almost unbearable. Was kept awake at nights and could not bear the weight of the covers on this foot. By the laying on of hands, God instantly took away all pain, and the foot in now healing up.

Last Sunday, Brother Bosworth baptized thirty-nine more in water and the power of God was present in a mighty way. A great crowd witnessed the scene.

More than one hundred and twenty-five have received the baptism in the Holy Spirit during the past two months, eight received the baptism on last Saturday night, twelve one Sunday. There have been as many as fifty baptised in the Holy Spirit in one week, many receiving it in their homes. For two months the mighty power and presence of God has been present in these services in a marvellous way.

The meetings are increasing in interest and power, and the people are coming from many states. A man got here yesterday morning, coming from Indianapolis, Ind., on purpose to attend this meeting. Another from the Pacific coast, some from Illinois, 11

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text: Weird Tales/Volume 2/Issue 1/Black Cunjer


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 by the guardian bees giving warning of the approach of an enemy and ready to sting.

On one side of the inclosure the old bee-keeper was smoothing a hoop, and did not see Levin; and Levin, without speaking to him, stood in the midst of his apiary.

He was glad of the chance of being alone so as to collect himself in face of the reality which had so suddenly come into vivid contrast with his recent state of mind.

He remembered that he had already been angry with Ivan, had shown coldness to his brother, and had spoken foolishly with Katavasof.

"Can it be possible that my happiness was only a transitory feeling, which will pass away, and leave no trace behind?"

But at the same moment as he analyzed his state of mind, he felt with joy that his experience had left new and important results. Practical life had only temporarily disturbed the spiritual calm which he had found; but in his heart it was still intact. Just as the bees, buzzing around him, threatened him, and robbed him of his physical calm, and compelled him to defend himself, so did the cares which surrounded him, as he sat in his little cart, disturb his spiritual calm; but this lasted only while he was in their midst. Just as his physical strength was intact while he was defending himself against the bees, so his newly attained spiritual power was also unimpaired.

you know, Kostia, whom Sergyeï Ivanovitch found on the train?" said Dolly, after she had given her children their cucumbers and honey. "Vronsky. He's going to Serbia."

"Yes! and not alone either. He's taking out a squadron of cavalry at his own expense," said Katavasof.

"That's like him," answered Levin. "But are vol-

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 unteers still going off?" added he, looking at Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

Sergyeï Ivanovitch was busy with a knife-blade rescuing a live bee from the honey that had flowed out of the white honeycomb at the bottom of his cup, and he did not answer.

"Indeed! I should say so!" said Katavasof, biting into a cucumber. "If you had only seen them at the station this morning!"

"Now, what an idea this is! For Christ's sake, tell me, Sergyeï Ivanovitch, where all these volunteers are going, and whom they are going to fight with?" asked the old prince, evidently pursuing a conversation which they had begun before Levin joined them.

"With the Turks," answered Sergyeï Ivanovitch, smiling quietly, as he at last rescued the helpless honey-smeared bee on the point of his knife, and set him on an aspen leaf.

"But who has declared war on the Turks? Is it Ivan Ivanovitch Ragozof and the Countess Lidia Ivanovna and Madame Stahl?"

"No one has declared war; but the people sympathize with their oppressed brethren, and want to help them," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"The prince was not speaking of help, but of war," said Levin, coming to the assistance of his father-in-law. "The prince means that private persons have no right to take part in a war without being authorized by the government."

"Kostia, look out! there's a bee! Won't he sting?" cried Dolly, defending herself from a wasp.

"That's not a bee; that's a wasp!" said Levin.

"Come, now! give us your theory," demanded Katavasof, evidently provoking Levin to a discussion. "Why shouldn't private persons have that right?"

"Well, my theory is this: war, on the one hand, is such a terrible, such an atrocious, thing that no man, at least no Christian man, has the right to assume the responsibility of beginning it; but it belongs to government alone, when it becomes inevitable. On the other

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 from you? and have I not received your solemn oath to the contrary?"

"I will not compel you to quit the monastery; you have received my solemn oath to the contrary: but yet, when I throw myself upon your generosity; when I declare to you the embarrassments in which your presence involves me, will you not release me from that oath? Reflect upon the danger of a discovery; upon the opprobrium in which such an event would plunge me: reflect, that my honour and reputation are at stake; and that my peace of mind depends on your compliance. As yet, my heart is free; I shall separate from you with regret, but not with despair. Stay here, and a few weeks will sacrifice my happiness on the altar of your charms; you are but too interesting, too amiable! I should love you, I should doat on you! my bosom would become the prey of desires, which honour and my profession forbid me to gratify. If I resisted them, the impetuosity of my wishes unsatisfied would drive me to madness: if I


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 Wimborne. Here the Hardys resided, with frequent absences in London and in a Paris flat near the Quai Voltaire, until they moved into their present home, Max Gate.

Instead of immediately and whole-heartedly following up Far from the Madding Crowd with another effort in similar vein, the "coming" novelist felt at this time a strong iteration of the impulse to devote his entire energy to composition in verse. But he was persuaded by Leslie Stephen to continue with his novels, particularly with The Return of the Native, which he had had in hand for some years. From 1870 to 1874 he had produced an important book each year, but there followed an interval of four years before the actual completion and publication of his prose epic of Egdon Heath.

Meanwhile, in 1876, The Hand of Ethelberta, a "comedy in chapters . . . a somewhat frivolous narrative," as he called it, had appeared, and had added little to his reputation, although it is a unique work, and of considerable importance for the study of the development of his art. His preface to the edition of 1895 presented the book as an argument for social liberalism in comedy, defending the claims of the servants’ hall as a proper scene for artistic drama.

In these unhurried years of his career, Hardy continued to write poetry—verse remained throughout his favorite means of literary expression. His ambition to become a great poet was never submerged under a sense of his undoubted success, in spite of himself, as a novelist. It was hinted again and again that only the necessity for earning a livelihood kept him writing fiction.


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 hand, both in law and in common sense, where there are state questions, and above all in matters concerning war, private citizens have no right to use their own wills."

Sergyeï Ivanovitch and Katavasof were both ready at the same instant with answers.

"That's where you're mistaken, batyushka," said Katavasof. "There may be cases when government does not carry out the will of its citizens, and then society declares its own will."

But Sergyeï Ivanovitch did not approve of this reply. He frowned as Katavasof spoke, and put it another way:—

"You state the question all wrong. Here there is no declaration of war, but simply an expression of human, of Christian, sympathy. Our brethren, men of the same blood, the same faith, are butchered. Now, we do not merely regard them as brethren and as coreligionists, but as women, children, old men. Our feelings are stirred, and the whole Russian people fly to help check these horrors. Suppose you were walking in the street, and saw a drunken man beating a woman or a child. I think you would not stop to ask whether war had been declared or had not been declared on such a man before you attacked him and protected the object of his fury,"

"No; but I should not kill him."

"Yes, you might even kill him."

"I don't know. If I saw such a sight, I might yield to the immediate feeling. I cannot tell how it would be. But in the oppression of the Slavs, there is not, and cannot be, such a powerful motive."

"Perhaps not for you, but other people think differently," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, angrily. "The people still keep the tradition of sympathy with brethren of the orthodox faith, who are groaning under the yoke of the 'unspeakable Turk.' They have heard of their terrible sufferings, and are aroused."

"That may be," answered Levin, in a conciliatory tone, "only I don't see it. I myself am one of the people, and I don't feel it."

"I can say the same," put in the old prince, - "I was

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 yielded to the temptation, I should sacrifice to one moment of guilty pleasure, my reputation in this world, my salvation in the next. To you, then, I fly for defence against myself. Preserve me from losing the reward of thirty years of sufferings! preserve me from becoming the victim of remorse! Your heart has already felt the anguish of hopeless love: oh! then, if you really value me, spare mine that anguish! give me back my promise; fly from these walls. Go, and you bear with you my warmest prayers for your happiness, my friendship, my esteem, and admiration: stay, and you become to me the source of danger, of sufferings, of despair. Answer me, Matilda, what is your resolve?" She was silent.—"Will you not speak, Matilda? Will you not name your choice?"

"Cruel! cruel!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands in agony; "you know too well that you offer me no choice: you know too well that I can have no will but yours!"

"I was not then deceived. Matilda's generosity equals my expectations."


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 living abroad; I read the newspapers, and I learned about the Bulgarian atrocities; but I never could understand why all Russia took such a sudden fancy for their Slavic brethren. I am sure I never felt the slightest love for them. I was greatly ashamed. I thought I must be either a monster, or that Carlsbad had a bad effect on me. But since I have come back, I don't feel stirred at all; and I find that I am not the only one who is not so much interested in the Slav brethren as in Russia. Here is Konstantin."

"Private opinions are of no consequence—there is no meaning in private opinions—when all Russia, when the whole people, signified what they wished," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"Yes. Excuse me. I don't see this. The people don't know anything," said the prince.

"But, papa, how about that Sunday in church?" said Dolly, who had been listening to the conversation.—"Get me a towel, please," she said in an aside to the old bee-keeper, who was looking at the children with a friendly smile. "It can't be that all ...."

"Well! What about that Sunday at church? They tell the priest to read a prayer. He reads it. Nobody understands one word. They snore just as they do during the whole sermon," continued the prince. "Then they tell them that the salvation of their souls is in question. Then they pull out their kopeks, and give them, but why they have not the least idea,"

"The people cannot know their destiny. They have an instinctive feeling, and at times like these they show it," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, looking at the old beekeeper.

The handsome, tall old man, with his black beard, wherein a few gray hairs were beginning to show, and with his thick, silvery hair, stood motionless, holding a cup of honey in his hand, looking at the gentlemen with a mild, placid air, evidently not understanding a word of the conversation, nor caring to understand.

He nodded his head with deliberation as he heard Sergyeï Ivanovitch's words, and said:—

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 Leslie Stephen at this time exercised other influences over Hardy besides keeping him at his novels. The conversation of the two men, in London and in Dorset, was reported by Edmund Gosse to have “obstinately turned upon theologies decayed and defunct, the origin of things, the constitution of matter, and the unreality of time."

Of such metaphysics in the stricter sense, however, one can find but few remaining traces until one looks at the supernatural machinery of The Dynasts and some of the later lyrical poems. All the evidence at hand seems to indicate that the consistent philosophy at the base of all of Hardy's output was less the result of erudition than the effect of the peculiar characteristics of his very individual personal temperament.

With the publication of The Return of the Native began the long series of controversies on modern art and morals which followed nearly every one of his subsequent works. "I recollect the zeal with which the late Bishop of London, Mandell Creighton, scandalized a company at his own dinner-table by what seemed then an absolutely extravagant laudation of it," wrote Gosse in 1901.

Nevertheless, popularity came but laggingly to Hardy. It is related that he once accompanied Rudyard Kipling on a search for a seaside cottage, to be shared by both authors during the summer months. They found a suitable house in the neighborhood of Weymouth, and proceeded to negotiate for its rental. Unawed by Hardy's then imposing full beard, the landlady demanded references.

"Why," said Hardy, "this is Mr. Kipling."


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 "Yes; I will prove the truth of my affection by submitting to a decree which cuts me to the very heart. Take back your promise. I will quit the monastery this very day. I have a relation, abbess of a convent in Estramadura: to her will I bend my steps, and shut myself from the world for ever. Yet tell me, father, shall I bear your good wishes with me to my solitude? Will you sometimes abstract your attention from heavenly objects to bestow a thought upon me?"

"Ah! Matilda, I fear that I shall think on you but too often for my repose!"

"Then I have nothing more to wish for, save that we may meet in heaven. Farewell, my friend! my Ambrosio! And yet, methinks, I would fain bear with me some token of your regard."

"What shall I give you?"

"Something—any thing—one of those flowers will be sufficient." [Here she pointed to a bush of roses, planted at the door of the grotto.] "I will hide it in my bosom,


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 "That's certainly so."

"Well, now! Ask him about it," said Levin. "He does n't know. He does n't think.—Have you heard about the war, Mikhaïluitch?" asked he of the old man. "You know what was read on Sunday at church, don't you? What do you think? Ought we to fight for the Christians?"

"Why should we think? Our Emperor Aleksander Nikolayevitch will think for us, as in everything else. He knows what to do.—Should you like some more bread? shall I give some to the little lad?" asked he, turning to Darya Aleksandrovna, and pointing to Grisha, who was munching a crust.

"What's the use of asking him?" said Sergyeï Ivanovitch. "We have seen, and still see, hundreds and hundreds of men abandoning all they possess, giving their last penny, enlisting and trooping from every corner of Russia, all clearly and definitely expressing their thought and purpose. What does that signify?"

"It signifies, in my opinion," said Levin, beginning to get excited, " that out of eighty millions of men, there will always be found hundreds, and even thousands, who have lost their social position, are restless, and are ready to take up the first adventure that comes along, whether it is to follow Pugatchof or to go to Khiva or to fight in Serbia."

"I tell you they are not adventurers who devote themselves to this work, but they are the best representatives of the nation," cried Sergyeï Ivanuitch, excitedly, as if he were defending his last position. "There are the contributions; is n't that a test of popular feeling?"

"That word 'people' is so vague," said Levin; "long-haired scribblers, professors, and perhaps one in a thousand among the peasants understand what it is all about, but the rest of the eighty millions do as Mikhailuitch here does. They not only don't express their will, but they have n't the slightest idea that they have any will to express. What right, then, have we to say that this is the will of the people?"

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 and, when I am dead, the nuns shall find it withered upon my heart."

The friar was unable to reply: with slow steps, and a soul heavy with affliction, he quitted the hermitage. He approached the bush, and stooped to pluck one of the roses. Suddenly he uttered a piercing cry, started back hastily, and let the flower, which he already held, fall from his hand. Matilda heard the shriek, and flew anxiously towards him.

"What is the matter?" she cried. "Answer me, for God's sake! What has happened?"

"I have received my death" he replied in a faint voice: "concealed among the roses—a serpent—"

Here the pain of his wound became so exquisite, that nature was unable to bear it: his senses abandoned him, and he sunk inanimate into Matilda's arms.

Her distress was beyond the power of description. She rent her hair, beat her bosom, and, not daring to quit Ambrosio,


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was skilled in dialectics, and without replying he took up another side of the question.

"Yes, if you want to get at the mind of the nation by an arithmetical process, of course it will be very hard work. We have not the proper gifts, and cannot reckon it that way. But there are other means of learning it besides arithmetic. It is felt in the air, it is felt in the heart, not to speak of those submarine currents which flow through the stagnant ocean of the people and which are evident to every unprejudiced person. Take society in a narrower sense. Take the intelligent classes, and see how on this point even the most hostile parties combine. There is no longer a difference of opinions; all the organs of society express the same thing. They have all become aware of an elemental force which fills the nation with its own motive power."

"Yes; the newspapers all say the same thing, that is true," said the old prince, "but then, so do all the frogs croak before a storm. That does n't signify much."

"Whether frogs or not,—I don't edit newspapers, and I don't set up to defend them. I am talking of the unanimity of opinion among intelligent people," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, turning to his brother.

Levin was about to reply, but the old prince took the words from his mouth:—.

"Well, something else may be said in regard to that unanimity. Here 's my son-in-law, Stepan Arkadyevitch, you know. He has just been appointed member of some committee, commission, or other,—I don't know what,—with a salary of eight thousand a year, and nothing to do.—Now, Dolly, that's not a secret.—Ask him if his office is useful; he will tell you that it is indispensable. And he is an upright man; but you could not make him cease to believe in his full eight thousand salary."

"Oh, yes! he told me to tell Darya Aleksandrovna

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 endeavoured by loud cries to summon the monks to her assistance. She at length succeeded. Alarmed by her shrieks, several of the brothers hastened to the spot, and the superior was conveyed back to the abbey. He was immediately put to bed, and the monk, who officiated as surgeon to the fraternity, prepared to examine the wound. By this time Ambrosio's hand had swelled to an extraordinary size: the remedies which had been administered to him, 'tis true, restored him to life, but not to his senses: he raved in all the horrors of delirium, foamed at the mouth, and four of the strongest monks were scarcely able to hold him in his bed.

Father Pablos (such was the surgeon's name) hastened to examine the wounded hand. The monks surrounded the bed, anxiously waiting for the decision: among these the feigned Rosario appeared not the most insensible to the friar's calamity: he gazed upon the sufferer with inexpressible anguish; and his groans, which every mo-


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 that he had got that place," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, angrily, considering that the prince's remark was not à propos.

"Of course the newspapers are unanimous. That is easily explained. War will double their circulation. How can they help supporting the Slavic question and the national instinct?"

"I don't like many of the papers, but you are unjust," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"I will only add one more suggestion," said the old prince. "Alphonse Karr wrote a clever thing just before the Franco-Prussian war, when he said, 'You say this war is absolutely necessary? very good; go to the front, then, and be under the first fire, and lead the first onslaught.'"

"Good editors would be glad to do that," said Katavasof, with a loud laugh, and trying to imagine certain editorial friends of his in this chosen legion.

"Yes; but when they ran away," said Dolly, "they'd bother the others."

"Just as soon as they begin to run put a mitrailleuse behind them, or some Cossacks with whips," said the prince.

"Well, that 's a joke, but not a very good joke; excuse me, prince," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"I don't think it was a joke," said Levin; "it was ...."

But his brother interrupted him.

"Every member of society is called upon to do his duty," said he, "and thoughtful men perform theirs by giving expression to public opinion; and the unanimous and full expression of public opinion is creditable to the press, and at the same time a good symptom. Twenty years ago we should have kept quiet; to-day we hear the voice of the Russian people, which is ready to rise like one man, and ready to sacrifice itself for its oppressed brethren. It is a great step taken,—a proof of power."

"Yes, not only to avenge their brethren, but to kill the Turks," said Levin, timidly. "The people will sacrifice itself and be ready to sacrifice itself for the

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 "Mr. Kipling? . . ."

"Rudyard Kipling, the famous Indian balladist."

"Rudyard Kipling? . . ."

The woman had never heard of him, so Kipling himself carried on:

"But this is Mr. Hardy."

"Mr. Hardy ? . . ."

"Thomas Hardy, the great Wessex novelist."

"Thomas Hardy . . . Wessex? . . "

She had never heard of either of them. This happened in the present century. Such is the fame of even successful littérateurs.

The record for Hardy's next two decades can be little more than an annotated catalogue:

1880: The Trumpet-Major, the most genial of the novels; the first evidence of the growing hold which the Napoleonic legend was assuming over the author.

1881: A Laodicean, dictated through a wearisome illness of six months, to a predetermined happy ending, featuring architecture, designed to appeal to less mature readers, particularly youngsters into whose souls the iron had not yet entered.

1882: Two on a Tower; the lonely lives of a boy-astronomer and an indiscreet lady of quality, projected against a stellar background.

1886: The Mayor of Casterbridge, the profound effect of Biblical influences—a simple, headstrong character, relentlessly pursued to his doom by a Nemesis at once drawn out of the Old Testament and Greek tragedy.

1887: The Woodlanders, German idealistic philosophy,


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 salvation of their souls, but not for murder," he added, involuntarily connecting this conversation with the thoughts of the morning.

"What do you mean by soul? That, to a naturalist, you must remember, is a very puzzling expression. What is the soul?" demanded Katavasof, with a smile.

"Oh, you know."

"'Pon my word, I haven't the least idea," and the professor broke into a burst of laughter.

"Christ said, 'I am come not to bring peace, but a sword'," remarked Sergyeï Ivanovitch, quoting as simply as if it were something comprehensible, a passage from the Gospel which had always troubled Levin.

"That's just so," repeated the old bee-keeper, who had been standing near them, in response to a chance look directed to him.

"Come, batyushka, you're beaten, you're beaten,—wholly beaten!" cried Katavasof, gayly.

Levin reddened with vexation, not because he was beaten, but because he had been drawn into discussion again.

"No; it is impossible for me to dispute with them," he thought; "their armor is impenetrable, and I am defenseless."

He saw that he could not defeat his brother and Katavasof, and it was equally impossible to agree with them. Their arguments were the fruit of that same pride of the intellect which had almost ruined him. He could not admit that a handful of men, his brother among them, had the right, on the ground of what was told them by a few hundred eloquent volunteers who came to the capital, to claim that they and the newspapers expressed the will and sentiment of the people, especially when this sentiment expressed itself in vengeance and butchery.

He could not agree with this because he did not discover the expression of these thoughts among the people in whose midst he lived, and he did not find them in himself—and he could not consider himself as anything

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 else than one of the men constituting the Russian nation—but principally because he did not, any more than the rest of men, know—nor could he know—what constituted the general good; but he firmly believed that the attainment of this general good was brought about only by the strenuous fulfilment of that law of right which is revealed to every one, and therefore he could not desire war, or preach it as a means of attaining any general end whatever.

He and Mikhaïlovitch, and the people in general, expressed themselves in somewhat the same language as was used when the early Russians invited the Variags to come from Scandinavia:—

"Come and rule over us, we gladly promise absolute submission. We are enduring all trials, all humiliations, all sacrifices, but we do not judge and we do not decide."

And now, according to Sergyeï Ivanovitch, the people were ready to turn their backs on a right which they had purchased at such a price!

He wanted to say in addition that if the general opinion is an infallible judge, then why should not the Revolution, the Commune, be as useful to the Slavs as lawful means?

But all these were thoughts which could not decide anything. The only thing that he could clearly see was that at the present moment the discussion was exasperating to Sergyeï Ivanovitch, and therefore it was wrong to discuss it. So Levin held his peace, and turned the attention of his guests to the clouds that were rolling up, and he advised them to hurry home if they did not want to get wet.

prince and Sergyeï Ivanovitch seated themselves in the cart and drove on; the rest of the party, quickening their steps, started back on foot.

But the thunder-storm, white on top, black under-

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 a dramatic metaphysical flame, illuminating a tale of virginal passion.

1888: Wessex Tales, novelettes, masterpieces of short-story technique.

1891: A Group of Noble Dames, local heroines, tragic and comic, fitted into a Chaucerian framework.

1891: Tess of the D'Urbervilles, the sensational tragedy of the virtuous seduced woman. Tess was the fruit of many months of reflection and research. There is an anecdote which explains how much of Hardy's material was acquired, and throws a little light on the character of his first wife. The originals for the famous D'Urberville portraits were actually hanging in the manor house at Wool. The Hardys called there in order to obtain a view of them. Admission was denied, however, and they were turning away in disappointment, when Mrs. Hardy fell in a faint. She refused to revive until they had carried her into the house. Her husband naturally accompanied her within. Thus the pictures were viewed. Copies were subsequently painted for Hardy by John Everett.

Upon the publication of Tess, the discussion of the ethical implications and moral values of Hardy's "message" reached feverish intensity, and finally assured him of large sales. Tess remains his best seller; it has even been filmed.

1894: Life's Little Ironies, the best of the collections of briefer stories; the most tragical and the most comical juxtaposed in A Few Crusted Characters.

1895: Jude the Obscure, the story of the male counter-


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 neath, came up so rapidly that they had to hurry so as to reach the house before the rain was on them. The clouds coming on as the vanguard, hung low, were as black as soot, and drove across the sky with extraordinary rapidity. They had reached within two hundred feet of the house, and already the wind had begun to rise, and the downpour might be expected at any second.

The children ran on ahead laughing and screaming with delight and terror. Darya Aleksandrovna, struggling with her skirts, which the wind blew round her legs, no longer walked, but ran, not letting the children out of her sight. The gentlemen, holding on their hats with difficulty, walked with long strides. They had just reached the porch when the great drops began to strike and splash against the edge of the iron gutter. The children, and just behind them their elders, with gay exclamations ran under the shelter of the porch.

"Where is Katerina Aleksandrovna?" asked Levin of Agafya Mikhaïlovna, who was coming out of the door, loaded with shawls and plaids.

"We supposed she was with you."

"And Mitya?"

"He must be in the Kolok woods with his nurse."

Levin seized the plaids, and started for Kolok.

In the few minutes that had elapsed, the storm had reached beyond the sun, and it was as dark as if there was an eclipse. The wind blew obstinately as if insisting on its own way, tried to stop Levin, and, tearing off the leaves and flowers from the lindens, and rudely and strangely baring the white branches of the birches, bent everything to one side,—acacias, flowers, burdocks, the grass, and the tree-tops. The girls working in the garden ran squealing under the shelter of the servants' quarters. The white screen of the pouring rain had already cut off the distant forest and half of the adjacent field, and was rapidly advancing on Kolok. The dampness of the shower was felt in the atmosphere like fine drops.

Bending his head, and fighting vigorously against the gale, which tugged at his shawls, Levin was already on

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 his way to Kolok. He thought he already saw white forms behind a well-known oak, when suddenly a glare of light seemed to burst from the ground before him, and the vault of the sky above him to fall with a crash. When he opened his dazzled eyes, he looked through the thick curtain formed by the rain, which cut him off from the Kolok woods, and saw, to his horror, that the green top of a well-known oak which stood in the forest had strangely changed its position. Even before he could ask, "Can the lightning have struck it?" he saw it bending over more and more rapidly, and then disappearing behind the other trees, and he heard the crash the great oak made as it fell, carrying with it the neighboring trees. The glare of the lightning, the crash of the thunder, and the sensation of chill running over his whole body blended for Levin in one impression of horror.

"My God! my God! keep them safe," he exclaimed.

And though he instantly felt the absurdity of the prayer, since the oak had already fallen, he nevertheless said it over and over, for he knew that, absurd as it was, he could not do anything else to help them.

He hastened toward the spot where they generally went, but he did not find them. They were in another part of the woods under an old linden, and they called to him. Two figures dressed in dark clothes—they usually wore white—were bending over something under the trees. It was Kitty and the nurse. The rain had stopped, and it was beginning to grow lighter when Levin reached them. The bottom of the nurse's dress was dry, but Kitty's gown was wet through and clung to her. Though it was no longer raining, they were standing just as they had been when the shower began. Both were leaning over the baby-carriage, with its green parasol.

"Alive? safe? God be praised!" he cried, as, splashing through the puddles, he ran to them with his shoes full of water.

Kitty's glowing face, all wet, was turned to him, and

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 ment escaped from his bosom, sufficiently betrayed the violence of his affliction.

Father Pablos probed the wound. As he drew out his lancet, its point was tinged with a greenish hue. He shook his head mournfully, and quitted the bed side.

Tis as I feared," said he; "there is no hope."

"No hope!" exclaimed the monks with one voice; "say you, no hope?"

"From the sudden effects, I suspected that the abbot was stung by a cientipedoro : the venom which you see upon my lancet confirms my idea. He cannot live three days."

"And can no possible remedy be found?" enquired Rosario.

"Without extracting the poison, he cannot recover; and how to extract it is to me still a secret. All that I can do is to apply such herbs to the wound as will re-


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 she smiled timidly from under her hat, which had lost its shape in the rain.

"There now, are n't you ashamed? I can't understand how you could do such a careless thing," he began, in his vexation scolding his wife.

"Goodness, it was not my fault. We were just starting to go when he began to be restless. We had to change him. We were just ...." Kitty said, trying to defend herself.

Mitya was safe, dry, and still soundly sleeping.

"Well! God be thanked! I don't know what I'm saying."

They hastily picked up the wet diapers, the nurse took the baby, and Levin, ashamed of his vexation, gave his arm to his wife, and led her away, pressing her hand gently.

the course of all that day, during the most varied conversations in which Levin took part, as it were, only with the external side of his mind, and notwithstanding his disillusion at finding that the moral regeneration had not taken place in his nature after all, he did not cease to be pleasantly conscious that his heart was full.

After the shower, it was too wet to go out for a walk, and, moreover, other threatening clouds were piling up on the horizon, and here and there reaching up high into the sky, black, and laden with thunder. All the household spent the rest of the day within doors.

Discussions were avoided, and after dinner all were in the gayest frame of mind.

Katavasof at first kept the ladies laughing by his original turns of wit, which always pleased people when they made his acquaintance; then afterward being drawn out by Sergyeï Ivanovitch, he related his very interesting observations on the different characteristics and features of male and female flies, and their habits.

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 Sergyeï Ivanovitch also was very gay; and at tea he explained the future of the Eastern question so simply and well that all could follow him. Kitty alone did not hear him. She had been summoned to the nursery to give Mitya his bath.

A few moments after Kitty had left the room, Levin also was called to follow her.

Leaving his tea, and feeling regretful at having an interesting conversation interrupted, and at the same time troubled because they had called him to the nursery, a thing which had hitherto happened only in cases of emergency, Levin followed his wife.

In spite of the fact that he was greatly interested in his brother's partly outlined scheme of making the newly enfranchised world of forty millions of Slavs join with Russia in establishing a new epoch in history—for it was something entirely novel to him, in spite of his curiosity and anxiety at having been summoned to the nursery, as soon as he had left the drawing-room and was once more alone, he immediately remembered his thoughts of the morning. And all these theories as to the significance of the Slav element in the universal history seemed to him so insignificant in comparison with what was taking place in his own soul, that for a moment he forgot all about it, and returned to the moral state that had so delighted him at the beginning of the day.

This time he did not wholly retrace the course of thought which had led him to this state of mind, nor was it necessary. He was borne immediately back to that feeling which had guided him, which had been connected with those thoughts, and he now found the feeling stronger and more definite in his soul than ever before. Now there was no longer what had always marked his previous imaginary attempts at gaining spiritual calmness, when he had been obliged to call a halt to the whole course of his thoughts in order to find the feeling; now, on the contrary, the feeling of joy and calmness was more vivid than before, but thought did not overtake the feeling. He walked along the terrace, and

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