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Rh maker poet of Nuremberg, and related in prose form in a chap book which still exists in prints of the eighteenth century. The story and the characters gradually became so vague and distorted, that only a trained eye could detect in the burlesque figures of the popular account the heroes of the ancient Germanic Legend.

The honor of rediscovering the Nibelungenlied and of restoring it to the world of literature belongs to a young physician by the name of J.H. Obereit, who found the manuscript C at the castle of Hohenems in the Tirol on June 29, 1755; but the scientific study of the poem begins with Karl Lachmann, one of the keenest philological critics that Germany has ever produced. In 1816 he read before the University of Berlin his epoch-making essay upon the original form of the Nibelungenlied. Believing that the poem was made up of a number of distinct ballads or lays, he sought by means of certain criteria to eliminate all parts which were, as he thought, later interpolations or emendations. As a result of this sifting and discarding process, he reduced the poem to what he considered to have been its original form, namely, twenty separate lays, which he thought had come down to us in practically the same form in which they had been sung by various minstrels.

This view is no longer held in its original form. Though we have every reason to believe that ballads of Siegfried the dragon killer, of Siegfried and Kriemhild, and of the destruction of the Nibelungs existed in Germany, yet these ballads are no longer to be seen in our poem. They formed merely the basis or source for some poet who thought to revive the old


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 delivered us into the hands of our enemies."

"Not so," answered Morton, with voice and gesture which compelled many to listen; "it is not God who deserts us, it is we who desert him, and dishonour ourselves by disgracing and betraying the cause of freedom and religion.—Hear me," he exclaimed, springing to the pulpit, which Mucklewrath had been compelled to evacuate by actual exhaustion—"I bring from the enemy an offer to treat, if you incline to lay down your arms. I can insure you the means of making an honourable defence, if you are of mere manly tempers. The time flies fast on. Let us resolve either for peace or war; and let it not be said of us in future days, that six thousand Scottish men in arms had neither courage to stand their ground and fight it out, nor prudence to treat for peace, nor even the coward's wisdom to retreat in good time and with safety. What signifies quarrelling on minute points of church-dis-


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 cipline, when the whole edifice is threatened with total destruction. O, remember, my brethren, that the last and worst evil which God brought upon the people whom he had once chosen—the last and worst punishment of their blindness and hardness of heart was the bloody dissensions which rent asunder their city, even when the enemy were thundering at its gates."

Some of the audience testified their feeling of this exhortation by loud exclamations of applause; others by hooting, and exclaiming,—"To your tents, O Israel!"

Morton, who beheld the columns of the enemy already beginning to appear on the right bank, and directing their march upon the bridge, raised his voice to its utmost pitch, and, pointing at the same time with his hand, exclaimed,—"Silence your senseless clamours, yander is the enemy! On maintaining the bridge against him depend our lives, as well as our hope to recaim our laws and liberties.—There shall at least one Scottishman die in their de-


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 dropping off fast, almost gone; barberries are in beauty; snowballs coming forward; May roses blossoming.

Saturday, 29th.— William finished his poem on going for Mary. I wrote it out. I wrote to Mary H., having received a letter from her in the evening. A sweet day. We nailed up the honeysuckles, and hoed the scarlet beans.

Monday, 31st.— We sat out all the day I wrote out the poem on "Our Departure," which he seemed to have finished. In the evening Miss Simpson brought us a letter from M. H., and a complimentary and critical letter to W. from John Wilson of Glasgow.

Tuesday.—A very sweet day, but a sad want of rain. We went into the orchard after I had written to M. H. Then on to Mr. Olliff's intake The columbine was growing upon the rocks; here and there a solitary plant, sheltered and shaded by the tufts and bowers of trees. It is a graceful slender creature, a female seeking retirement, and growing freest and most graceful where it is most alone. I observed that the more shaded plants were always the tallest. A short note and gooseberries from Coleridge. We walked upon the turf near John's Grove. It was a lovely night. The clouds of the western sky reflected a saffron light upon the upper end of the lake. All was still. We went to look at Rydale. There was an Alpine, fire-like red upon the tops of the mountains. This was gone when we came in view of the lake. But we saw the lake from a new and most beautiful point of view, between two little rocks, and behind a small ridge that had concealed it from us. This White Moss, a place made for all kinds of beautiful works of art and nature, woods and valleys, fairy valleys and fairy tarns, miniature mountains, alps above alps.


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 fence.—Let any one who loves his country follow me!"

The multitude had turned, their heads in the direction to which he pointed. The sight of the glittering files of the footguards, supported by several squadrons of horse, of the cannon which the artillery, men were busily engaged in planting against the bridge, and of the long succession of troops which were destined to support the attack, silenced at once their clamorous uproar, and struck them with as much consternation as if it were an unexpected apparition, and not the very thing which they ought to have been looking out for. They gazed on each other, and on their leaders, with looks resembling those that indicate the weakness of a patient when exhausted by a fit of frenzy. Yet when Morton, springing from the rostrum, directed his steps towards the bridge, he was followed by about an hundred of the young men who were particularly attached to his command.


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 Burley turned to Macbriar—"Ephraim," he said, "it is Providence points us the way, through the worldly wisdom of this latitudinarian youth—He that loves the light, let him follow Burley!"

"Tarry," replied Macbriar; "it is not by Henry Morton, or such as him, that our goings-out and our comings-in are to be meted; therefore tarry with us. I fear treachery to the host from this nullifidian Achan—Thou shalt not go with him. Thou art our chariots and our horsemen."

"Hinder me not," replied Barley; "he hath well said that all is lost, if the enemy win the bridge—therefore let me not— Shall the children of this generation be called wiser or braver than the children of the sanctuary?—Array yourselves under your leaders—let us not lack supplies of men and ammunition; and accursed be he who turneth back from the work on this great day!"

Having thus spoken, he hastily marched towards the bridge, and was followed


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xiv heroic legends of the German past which were familiar to his hearers and to adapt them to the tastes of his time. In all probability we must assume two, three, or even more steps in the genesis of the poem. There appear to have been two different sources, one a Low German account, quite simple and brief, the other a tradition of the Lower Rhine. The legend was perhaps developed by minstrels along the Rhine, until it was taken and worked up into its present form by some Austrian poet. Who this poet was we do not know, but we do know that he was perfectly familiar with all the details of courtly etiquette. He seems also to have been acquainted with the courtly epics of Heinrich von Veldeke and Hartman von Ouwe, but his poem is free from the tedious and often exaggerated descriptions of pomp, dress, and court ceremonies, that mar the beauty of even the best of the courtly epics. Many painstaking attempts have been made to discover the identity of the writer of our poem, but even the most plausible of all these theories which considers Kürenberg, one of the earliest of the Minnesingers, to be the author, because of the similarity of the strophic form of our poem to that used by him, is not capable of absolute proof, and recent investigations go to show that Kürenberg was indebted to the Nibelungen strophe for the form of his lyric, and not the Nibelungenlied to him. The Nibelungen strophe is presumably much older, and, having become popular in Austria through the poem, was adopted by Kürenberg for his purposes. As to the date of the poem, in its present form it cannot go back further than about 1190, because of the exactness of the rhymes, nor


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 by about two hundred of the most gallant and zealous of his party. There was a deep and disheartened pause when Morton and Burley departed. The commanders availed themselves of it to display their lines in some sort of order, and exhorted those who were most exposed to throw themselves upon their faces, to avoid the cannonade which they might presently expect. The insurgents ceased to resist or to remonstrate; but the awe which had silenced their discords had dismayed their courage. They suffered themselves to be formed into ranks with the docility of a flock of sheep, but without possessing, for the time, more resolution or energy; for they experienced a sinking of the heart, imposed by the sudden and imminent approach of the danger which they neglected to provide against while it was yet distant. They were, however, drawn but with some regularity; and as they still possessed the appearance of an army, their leaders had only to hope that some favourable circum-


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 stance would restore their spirit and courage.

Kettledrummle, Poundtext, Macbriar, and other preachers, busied themselves in their ranks, and prevailed on them to raise a psalm. But the superstitious among them observed, as an ill omen, that their song of praise and triumph sunk into "a quaver of consternation," and resembled rather a penitentiary stave sung on the scaffold of a condemned criminal, than the bold strain which had resounded along the wild heath of Loudonhill, in anticipation of that day's victory. The melancholy melody, soon received a rough accompaniment, for the cannon began to fire on one side, and the musketry on both, and the bridge of Bothwell, with the banks adjadent, were involved in wreaths of smoke.


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Morton or Burley had reached the post to be defended, the enemy had commenced an attack upon it with great spirit. The two regiments of Foot-Guards, formed into a close column, rushed forward to the river; one corps, deploying along the right bank, commenced a galling fire on the defenders of the pass, while the other pressed on to occupy the bridge. The insurgents sustained the attack with great constancy and courage; and while part of their number returned the fire across the river, the rest maintained a discharge of


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 musketry upon the further end of the bridge itself, and every avenue by which the soldiers endeavoured to approach it. The latter suffered severely, but still gained ground, and the head of their column was already upon the bridge, when the arrival of Morton changed the scene; and his marksmen, commencing upon the pass a fire as well aimed as it was sustained and regular, compelled the assailants to retire with much loss. They were a second time brought up to the charge, and a second time repulsed with still greater loss, as Burley had now brought his party into action. The fire was continued with the utmost vehemence on both sides, and the issue of the action seemed very dubious.

Monmouth, mounted on a superb white charger, might be discovered on the top of the right bank of the river, urging, entreating, and animating the exertions of his soldiers. By his orders, the cannon, which had hitherto been employed in annoying the


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 distant main body of the presbyterians were now turned upon the defenders of the bridge. But these tremendous engines, being wrought much more slowly than in modern times, did not produce the effeet of annoying or terrifying the enemy to the extent proposed. The insurgents, sheltered by copsewood along the banks of the river, or stationed in the houses already mentioned, fought under cover, while the royalists, owing to the precautions of Morton, were entirely exposed. The defence was so protracted and obstinate, that the royal generals began to fear it might be ultimately successful. While Monmouth threw himself from his horse, and, rallying the Foot-Guards, brought them on to another close and desperate attack, he wan warmly seconded by Dalzell, who, putting himself at the head of a body of Lennox Highlanders, rushed forward with their tremendous war-cry of Loch-sloy. The ammunition of the de-


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Rh could it have been written later than 1204, because of certain allusions to it in the sixth book of Parzival, which we know to have been written at this date. The two Low German poems which probably form the basis of our epic may have been united about 1150. It was revised and translated into High German and circulated at South German courts about 1170, and then received its present courtly form about 1190, this last version being the immediate source of our manuscripts.

The story of Siegfried, his tragic death, and the dire vengeance visited upon his slayers, which lies at the basis of our poem, antedates the latter by many centuries, and was known to all nations whose languages prove by their resemblance to the German tongue their original identity with the German people. Not only along the banks of the Rhine and the Danube and upon the upland plains of Southern Germany, but also along the rocky fjords of Norway, among the Angles and Saxons in their new home across the channel, even in the distant Shetland Islands and on the snow-covered wastes of Iceland, this story was told around the fires at night and sung to the harp in the banqueting halls of kings and nobles, each people and each generation telling it in its own fashion and adding new elements of its own invention. This great geographical distribution of the legend, and the variety of forms in which it appears, make it difficult to know where we must seek its origin. The northern version is in many respects older and simpler in form than the German, but still it is probable that Norway was not the home of the saga, but that it took its rise in Germany along the banks of the Rhine among the ancient tribe of the


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 fenders of the bridge began to fail at this important crisis; messages, commanding and imploring succours and supplies, were in vain dispatched, one after the other, to the main body of the presbyterian army, which remained inactively drawn up on the open fields in the rear. Bear, consternation, and misrule, had gone abroad among them, and, while the post on which their safety depended required to be instantly and powerfully reinforced, there remained none either to command or to obey.

As the fire of the defenders of the bridge began to slacken, that of the assailants increased, and became more fatal. Animated by the example and exhortations of their generals, they obtained a footing upon the bridge itself, and began to remove the obstacles by which it was blockaded. The portal-gate was broken open, the beams, trunks of trees, and other materials of the barricade, pulled down and


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 Wednesday, 2nd June.—In the morning we observed that the scarlet beans were drooping in the leaves in great numbers, owing, we guess, to an insect Yesterday an old man called, a grey-headed man, above seventy years of age. He said he had been a soldier, that his wife and children had died in Jamaica. He had a beggar's wallet over his shoulders; a coat of shreds and patches, altogether of a drab colour; he was tall, and though his body was bent, he had the look of one used to have been upright. I talked a while, and then gave him a piece of cold bacon and some money. Said he, "You're a fine woman!" I could not help smiling; I suppose he meant, "You're a kind woman." Afterwards a woman called, travelling to Glasgow. After dinner we went into Frank's field, crawled up the little glen, and planned a seat found a beautiful shell-like purple fungus in Frank's field. After tea we walked to Butterlip How, and backwards and forwards there. All the young oak tree leaves are dry as powder. A cold south wind, portending rain

Thursday, 3rd June 1802.—A very fine rain. I lay in my bed till ten o'clock. William much better than yesterday. We walked into Easedale The cuckoo sang, and we watched the little birds as we sate at the door of the cow-house. The oak copses are brown, as in autumn, with the late frosts We have been reading the life and some of the writings of poor Logan since dinner. There are many affecting lines and passages in his poem, e.g.

William is now sleeping with the window open, lying on the window seat. The thrush is singing. There are, I do believe, a thousand buds on the honeysuckle tree, all small and far from blowing, save one that is retired behind the twigs close to the wall, and as snug as a bird nest. John's rose tree is very beautiful, blended with the honeysuckle.


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 thrown into the river. This was not accomplished without opposition. Morton and Burley fought in the very front of their followers, and encouraged them with their pikes, halberts, and partisans, to encounter the bayonets of the Guards and the broadswords of the Highlanders. But those behind them began to shrink from the unequal combat, and fly singly, or in parties of two or three, towards the main body, until the remainder were, by the mere weight of the hostile column as much as by their weapons, fairly forced from the bridge. The passage being now open, the enemy began to pour over. But the bridge was long and narrow, which rendered the manœuvre slow as well as dangerous; and those who first passed had still to force the houses, from the windows of which the Covenanters continued to fire. Burley and Morton were near each other at this critical moment.

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 they can get into order; and, with the aid of God, we may thus regain the bridge—hasten thou to bring them down, while I make the defence good with this old and wearied body."

Morton saw the importance of the advice, and, throwing himself on the horse which Cuddie held in readiness for him behind the thicket, galloped towards a body of cavalry which chanced to be composed entirely of Cameronians. Ere he could speak his errand, or utter his orders, he was saluted by the execrations of the whole body.

"He flies," they exclaimed—"the cowardly traitor flies like a hart from the hunters, and hath left valiant Burley in the midst of the slaughter!"

"I do not fly," said Morton. "I come to lead you to the attack.—Advance boldly, and we shall yet do well."

"Follow him not!—Follow him not!"—such were the tumultuous exclamations


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224 know having begot in thee this son. Women generally speak untruths. Who shall believe in thy words? Destitute of all affection, the lewd Menaka is thy mother, for by her wast thou cast off on the surface of the Himalya as one throws away, after the worship is over, the flowery offerings he had made to his gods. Thy father too of the Kshatria race, the lustful Viswamitra, who was tempted to become a Brahmana, is destitute of all affection. However, Menaka is the first of Apsaras, and thy father also is the first of Rishis. Being their daughter, why dost thou speak like a woman that is lewd? Thy words deserve no credit. Art thou not ashamed to speak them? Especially before me? Go hence, O wicked woman in ascetic guise. Where is that foremost of great Rishis, where also is that Apsara Menaka? And where art thou, low as thou art, in the guise of an ascetic? Thy child too is grown up. Thou sayest he is a boy, but he is very strong. How hath he so soon grown like a Shala sprout? Thy birth is low. Thou speakest like a lewd woman. Lustfully hast thou been begotten by Menaka. O woman of ascetic guise, all that thou sayest is quite unknown to me. I don't know thee. Go whithersoever thou choosest.'

"Sakuntala replied, 'Thou seest, O king, the faults of others, even though they be so small as a mustard seed. But seeing, thou noticest not thy own faults even though they be as large as the Vilwa fruit. Menaka is of the celestials. Indeed, Menaka is reckoned as the first of celestials. My birth, therefore, O Dushmanta, is far higher than thine. Thou walkest upon the earth, O king, but I roam in the skies. Behold, the difference between ourselves is as that between (the mountain of) Meru and a mustard seed. Behold my power, O king! I can repair to the abodes of Indra, Kuvera, Yama, and Varuna. The saying is true which I shall refer to before thee, O sinless one! I refer to it for example's sake and not from evil motives. Therefore it behoveth thee to pardon me after thou hast hear it. An ugly person considereth himself handsomer than others until he sees his own face in the mirror. But when he sees his own ugly face in the mirror, it is then that he perceives the difference between himself and others. He that is really


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 which resounded from the ranks—"he hath sold you to the sword of the enemy."

And while Morton argued, entreated, and commanded in vain, the moment was lost in which the advance might have been useful; and the outlet from the bridge, with all its defences, being in complete possession of the enemy, Burley and his remaining followers were driven back ups on the main body, to whom the spectacle of their hurried and harassed retreat was a far from restoring the confidence which they so much wanted.

In the meanwhile, the forces of the King crossed the bridge at their leisure, and, securing the access, formed in line of battles while Claverhouse, who, like a hawk perched on a rock, and eying the time to pounce on its prey, had watched the event of the action from the opposite bank, now passed the bridge at the head of his cavalry, at full trot, and, leading them in squadrons through the intervals and sound the


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xvi Franks, as is shown by the many geographical names that are reminiscent of the characters of the story, such as a Siegfried spring in the Odenwald, a Hagen well at Lorsch, a Brunhild bed near Frankfort, and the well-known Drachenfels, or Dragon’s Rock, on the Rhine. It is to Norway, however, that we must go for our knowledge of the story, for, singularly enough, with the exception of the Nibelungenlied and the popular ballad, German literature has preserved almost no trace of the legend, and such as exist are too late and too corrupt to be of much use in determining the original features of the story.

Just when the legend emigrated to Skandinavia we do not know, but certainly at an early date, perhaps during the opening years of the sixth century. It may have been introduced by German traders, by slaves captured by the Northmen on their frequent marauding expeditions, or, as Mogk believes, may have been taken by the Heruli on their return to Norway after their defeat by the Langobardi. By whatever channel, however, the story reached the North, it became part and parcel of Skandinavian folklore, only certain names still pointing to the original home of the legend. In the ninth century, when Harald Harfagr changed the ancient free constitution of the land, many Norwegians emigrated to Iceland, taking with them these acquired legends, which were better preserved in this remote island because of the peaceful introduction of Christianity, than on the Continent, where the Church was more antagonistic to the customs and legends of the heathen period.

The Skandinavian version of the Siegfried legend


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Rh has been handed down to us in five different forms. The first of these is the poetic or older Edda, also called Saemund's Edda, as it was assigned to the celebrated Icelandic scholar Saemundr Sigfusson. The Codex Regius, in which it is preserved, dates from the middle of the thirteenth century, but is probably a copy of an older manuscript. The songs it contains were written at various times, the oldest probably in the first half of the ninth century, the latest not much before the date of the earliest manuscript. Most of them, however, belong to the Viking period, when Christianity was already beginning to influence the Norwegians, that is, between the years 800 and 1000. They are partly heroic, partly mythological in character, and are written in alliterative strophes interspersed with prose, and have the form of dialogues. Though the legends on which these songs are based were brought from Norway, most of them were probably composed in Iceland. Among these songs, now, we find a number which deal with the adventures of Siegfried and his tragic end.

The second source of the Siegfried story is the so-called Völsungasaga, a prose paraphrase of the Edda songs. The MS. dates from the beginning of the thirteenth century, but the account was probably written a century earlier. The adventures of Siegfried and his ancestors are here related in great detail and his ancestry traced back to Wodan. Although a secondary source, as it is based on the Edda, the Völsungasaga is nevertheless of great importance, since it supplies a portion of the Codex Regius which has been lost, and thus furnishes us with the contents of the missing songs.


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 workers of Ivanovo-Vosnessensk, etc.) put forward their social demands. The attempts of the Provisional Coalition Government to find some middle course of conciliation only served to rouse greater feeling on both sides.

The sharpening of the economic conflict long before the October revolution confronted the trade unions with the necessity for a violent overthrow of the Coalition Government. The largest unions—the metal workers, textile workers—the chief centres of the labour movement—Petrograd, Moscow, and Ivanovo-Vosnessensk—had already at the third conference spoken out for a determined revolutionary struggle against the coalition. When in August, 1917, the Kerensky Government called the State Convention where an attempt was made at fraternisation between the Social Democrats, Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries on one side and the Liberals on the other, the Moscow Trade Union Council was the initiator of the strike of protest against the continuation of the comedy. 500,000 Moscow workers struck and hurled their battle-cry at the Provisional Government "All power to the Soviets." The Ural conference of Trade Unions, embracing 145,000 workers, passed a strong resolution of protest against "the displacement of the Revolutionary Government or Russia by the Moscow convention of the counter-revolutionary forces of the country." In connection with the Korniloff revolt, a series of demonstrations of the largest trade unions took place demanding the immediate break-up of the coalition, workers' control and all power to the Soviets. The Petrograd Council of trade unions asserting that the provisional government "are sacrificing the interests of peace and of the masses to the Allied and Russian imperialists" demanded at the end of August the establishment of a special committee for the defence of Petrograd against counter revolution. The Moscow metal workers declared that "there are no separate conflicts of metal workers, textile workers and leather workers, there is only one great national conflict between labour and capital," and the All-Russia conference of textile workers which took place in September promised "the fullest support to the Soviets in their struggle for power, for only such power can save the country from economic and political ruin and improve the position of the working class."

The extent to which the accentuation of the economic struggle forced the trade unions to the left, is seen from the fact that at the Democratic Convention which took place in Petrograd in September nine-tenths of the trade union delegates- representing 1,893,100 workers, were against the coalition and that 70 of the 117 delegates belonged to the Bolshevist party. The trade unions, their local organs, the factory committees, played an important part in the sharpening of the class struggle. The whole of September and October, 1917, passed amidst sharp conflicts between the unions and the employers during which the workers put their resolution into force by means of


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Rh handsome never taunts anybody. And he that always talketh evil becometh a reviler. And as the swine always affect dirt and filth even when in the midst of a flower-garden, so the wicked always choose the evil out of both evil and good that others speak. Those, however, that are wise, hearing the speeches of others that are intermixed with both good and evil, accept only what is good, like geese that always extract the milk though it be mixed with water. As the honest are always pained in speaking ill of others, so are the wicked always rejoiced in doing the same thing. As the honest are always pleased in showing regard for the old, so are the wicked always rejoiced in aspersing the good. The honest are happy in seeking for them. The wicked ever speak ill of the honest. But the latter never injure the former even if injured by them. What can be more ridiculous in the world than those that are themselves wicked should represent the really honest as wicked? When even atheists are annoyed with those that have fallen off from truth and virtue and who are really like angry snakes of virulent poison, what shall I say of myself who am nurtured in faith? He that, having begotten a son who is his own image, regardeth him not, never attaineth to the worlds he coveteth, and verily the gods destroy his good fortune and possessions. The pitris have said that the son continueth the race and the line and is, therefore, the best of all religious acts. Therefore should none abandon a son. Manu hath said that there are five kinds of sons: those begotten by one's self in his own wife, those obtained (in gift) from others, those purchased for a consideration, those reared with affection and those begotten in others than wedded wives. Sons support the religion and achievements of men, enhance their joys, and rescue deceased ancestors from hell. It behoveth thee not, therefore, O tiger among kings, to abandon a son who is such. Therefore, O lord of the earth, cherish thy own self, truth, and virtue, by cherishing thy son. O thou lion among monarchs, it behoveth thee not to support this deceitfulness. The dedication of a tank is more meritorious than that of a hundred wells. A sacrifice again is more meritorious than the dedication of a 29


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xviii The third source is the prose Edda, sometimes called the Snorra Edda, after the famous Icelander Snorri Sturluson (1178-1241), to whom it was ascribed. The author was acquainted with both the poetic Edda and the Völsungasaga, and follows these accounts closely. The younger Edda is not really a tale, but a book of poetics; it relates, however, the Siegfried saga briefly. It is considered an original source, since it evidently made use of songs that have not come down to us, especially in the account of the origin of the treasure, which is here told more in detail and with considerable differences. The Nornagestsaga or Nornageststhattr, the story of Nornagest, forms the fourth source of the Siegfried story. It is really a part of the Olaf saga, but contains the story of Sigurd and Gunnar (the Norse forms of Siegfried and Gunther), which an old man Nornagest relates to King Olaf Tryggvason, who converted the Norwegians to Christianity. The story was written about 1250 to illustrate the transition from heathendom to the Christian faith. It is based on the Edda and the Völsungasaga, and is therefore of minor importance as a source.

These four sources represent the early introduction of the Siegfried legend into Skandinavia. A second introduction took place about the middle of the thirteenth century, at the time of the flourishing of the Hanseatic League, when the story was introduced together with other popular German epics. These poems are products of the age of chivalry, and are characterized by the romantic and courtly features of this movement. The one which concerns us here, as the fifth source of the Siegfried story, is the so-called Thidreksaga,


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Rh which celebrates the adventures of the famous legendary hero, Dietrich of Berne, the historical Theodorich of Ravenna. In as far as it contains the adventures of the Nibelungs, it is also called the Niflungasaga. The Thidreksaga was written about 1250 by a Norwegian who, as he himself tells us, heard the story from Germans in the neighborhood of Bremen and Münster. Since it is thus based on Saxon traditions, it can be considered an independent source of the legend, and, in fact, differs from the earlier Norse versions in many important details. The author was acquainted, however, with the older versions, and sought to compromise between them, but mostly followed his German authorities.

The story, as given in the older Norse versions, is in most respects more original than in the Nibelungenlied. It relates the history of the treasure of the Nibelungs, tracing it back to a giant by the name of Hreithmar, who received it from the god Loki as a compensation for the killing of the former's son Otur, whom Loki had slain in the form of an otter. Loki obtained the ransom from a dwarf named Andwari, who in turn had stolen it from the river gods of the Rhine. Andwari pronounces a terrible curse upon the treasure and its possessors, and this curse passes from Loki to the Giant Hreithmar, who is murdered when asleep by his two sons Fafnir and Regin. The latter, however, is cheated out of the coveted prize by Fafnir, who carries it away to the Gnita heath, where he guards it in the form of a dragon.

This treasure, with its accompanying curse, next passes into the hands of a human being named Sigurd


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xx (the Norse form of Siegfried, as we have seen), a descendant of the race of the Volsungs, who trace their history back to Wodan and are especially favored by him. The full story of Siegfried’s ancestry is far too long to relate here, and does not especially concern us, as it has little or no influence on the later development of the story. It is sufficient for our purpose to know that Siegfried was the son of Siegmund, who was slain in battle before the birth of his son. Sigurd was carefully reared by his mother Hjördis and the wise dwarf Regin, who taught him the knowledge of runes and of many languages. At the suggestion of Regin, Sigurd asks for and receives the steed Grani from the king, and is then urged by his tutor to help him obtain the treasure guarded by the latter’s brother Fafnir. Sigurd promises, but first demands a sword. Two, that are given him by Regin, prove worthless, and he forges a new one from the pieces of his father’s sword, which his mother had preserved. With this he easily splits the anvil and cuts in two a flake of wool, floating down the Rhine. He first avenges the death of his father, and then sets off with Regin to attack the dragon Fafnir. At the advice of the former Sigurd digs a ditch across the dragon’s path and pierces him from below with his sword, as the latter comes down to drink. In dying the dragon warns Sigurd against the treasure and its curse, and against Regin, who, he says, is planning


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226 tank. A son is more meritorious than a sacrifice. Truth is more meritorious than a hundred sons. An hundred horse-sacrifices had once been weighed with Truth. Truth was found heavier than an hundred horse-sacrifices. O king, Truth, I ween, may be equal to the study of the whole Vedas and ablutions in all holy places. There is no virtue equal to Truth. There is nothing superior to Truth. O king, Truth is God himself. Truth is the highest vow. Therefore, violate not thy pledge, O monarch! Let Truth and thee be ever united. If thou placest no credit on my words, I shall of my own accord go hence. Indeed, thy companionship should be avoided. But know thou, O Dushmanta, that when thou art gone, this son of mine shall rule the whole earth surrounded by the four seas and adorned by the king of the mountains.

Vaisampayana continued, "And Sakuntala having spoken to the monarch in this wise, then left his presence. But as soon as she had left, a voice from the skies, emanating from no visible shape, thus spoke to Dushmanta as he was sitting surrounded by his Ritwijas, Purohita, Acharyas, and Ministers. And the voice said, 'The mother is but the sheath of flesh: the son sprung from the father is the father himself. Therefore, O Dushmanta, cherish thy son, and insult not Sakuntala. O thou best of men, the son, who is but a form of one's own seed, rescueth (ancestors) from the regions of Yama. Thou art the progenitor of this boy. Sakuntala hath spoken the truth. The husband dividing his body in twain is born of his wife in the form of son. Therefore, O Dushmanta, cherish thou, O monarch, thy son born of Sakuntala. To live forsaking one's living son is a great misfortune. Therefore, O thou of the Puru race, cherish thy high-souled son born of Sakuntala! And because this child is to be cherished by thee even at our word, therefore shall this thy son be known by the name of Bharata (the cherished.)' Hearing these words uttered by the dwellers of heaven, the monarch of the Paurava race became overjoyed and spoke as follows unto his Purohita and ministers. 'Hear ye these words uttered by the celestial messenger? I also myself do know this one to be my son. If I had taken him as my son on the strength of


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Rh Sigurd’s death, intending to obtain the treasure for himself.

When Regin sees the dragon safely dead, he creeps from his place of concealment, drinks of the blood, and, cutting out the heart, begs Sigurd to roast it for him. While doing so, Sigurd burns his fingers, and, putting them in his mouth, understands at once the language of the birds and hears them say that Sigurd himself should eat the heart and then he would be wiser than all other men. They also betray Regin’s evil designs, and counsel the lad to kill his tutor. This Sigurd then does, cutting off Regin’s head, drinking the blood of both brothers, and eating Fafnir’s heart. On the further advice of the birds Sigurd first fetches the treasure from the cave, and then journeys to the mountain Hindarfjall, where he rescues the sleeping Valkyrie, Sigrdrifu (Brynhild, Brunhild), who, stung by the sleep thorn of Wodan, and clad in full armor, lies asleep within a castle that is surrounded by a wall of flame. With the help of his steed Grani, Sigurd succeeds in penetrating through the fire to the castle. The sleeping maiden awakes when he cuts the armor from her with his sword, for it was as tight as if grown fast to the flesh. She hails her deliverer with


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Rh and original study of the Bible. His style is peculiarly attractive, and had he been content to offer a plain commentary, his work would have ranked among the best. But he had other desires besides giving a simple explanation of the text. He had, secondly, a theological motive, to justify God and discover in the words of Scripture a hidden meaning. In the Biblical narratives, Nachmanides sees types of the history of man. Thus, the account of the six days of creation is turned into a prophecy of the events which would occur during the next six thousand years, and the seventh day is a type of the millennium. So, too, Nachmanides finds symbolical senses in Scriptural texts, “for, in the Torah, are hidden every wonder and every mystery, and in her treasures is sealed every beauty of wisdom.” Finally, Nachmanides wrote, not only for educational and theological ends, but also for edification. His third purpose was “to bring


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xxii great joy, for she had vowed never to marry a man who knew fear. At Sigurd’s request she teaches him many wise precepts, and finally pledges her troth to him. He then departs, after promising to be faithful to her and to remember her teachings.

On his journeyings Sigurd soon arrives at the court of Giuki (the Norse form of the German Gibicho, Gibich), a king whose court lay on the lower Rhine. Giuki has three sons, Gunnar, Högni, and Guthorm, and a daughter Gudrun, endowed with great beauty. The queen bears the name of Grimhild, and is versed in magic, but possessed of an evil heart. Sigurd is received with great honor, for his coming had been announced to Gudrun in dreams, which had in part been interpreted to her by Brynhild. The mother, knowing of Sigurd’s relations to the latter, gives him a potion which produces forgetfulness, so that he no longer remembers his betrothed, and accepts the hand of Gudrun, which the king offers him at the queen’s request. The marriage is celebrated with great pomp, and Sigurd remains permanently attached to Giuki’s court, performing with the others many deeds of valor.

Meanwhile Grimhild urges her son Gunnar to sue for the hand of Brynhild. Taking with him Sigurd and a few others, Gunnar visits first Brynhild’s father Budli, and then her brother-in-law Heimir, from both of whom he learns that she is free to choose whom she


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Rh religious. Hebrew fables supply one of the links connecting the popular literature of the East with that of the West. But they hardly belong in the true sense to Jewish literature. Parables, on the other hand, were an essential and characteristic branch of that literature.

 * Schiller-Szinessy.—Encycl. Brit., Vol. XVI, p. 285.
 * Graetz.—II, p. 328 [331] seq.
 * Steinschneider.—Jewish Literature, pp. 5 seq., 36 seq.
 * L. N. Dembitz—Jewish Services in Synagogue and Home (Jewish Publication Society of America, 1898), p. 44.

.
 * J. Jacobs.—The Fables of Æsop (London, 1889). I, p. 110 seq.
 * Read also Schechter, Studies in Judaism, p. 272 [331]; and J. Q. R. (Kohler), V, p. 399; VII, p. 581; (Bacher) IV, p. 406; (Davis) VIII, p. 529; (Abrahams) I, p. 216; II, p. 172; Chenery. Legends from the Midrash (Miscellany of the Society of Hebrew Literature, Vol. II).


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Rh Sakuntala's words alone, my people would have been suspicious and my son also would not have been regarded as pure.

Vaisampayana continued, "The monarch then, O thou of the Bharata race, seeing the purity of his son established by the celestial messenger, became exceedingly glad. And he took unto him that son with joy. And the king with a joyous hear then performed all those rites upon his son that a father should perform. And the king smelt his child's head and hugged him with affection. And the Brahmanas began to utter blessings upon him and the bards began to applaud him. And the monarch then experienced the great delight that one feeleth at the touch of one's son. And Dushmanta also received that wife of his with affection. And he told her these words, pacifying her affectionately. 'O Goddess, my union with thee took place privately. Therefore, I was thinking of how best to establish thy purity. My people might think that we were only lustfully united and not as husband and wife; and therefore, this son that I would have installed as my heir-apparent would only have been regarded as of impure birth. And, dearest, every hard word thou hast uttered in thy anger, have I, O large-eyed one, forgiven thee. Thou art my dearest.' And that royal sage, Dushmanta, having spoken thus to his dear wife, then, O Bharata, received her with offerings of perfume, food, and drink. And king Dushmanta then, bestowing the name of Bharata upon his child, formally installed him as the heir-apparent. And the famous bright wheels of Bharata's chariot, invincible and like unto the wheels of the cars owned by the gods, traversed every region filling the whole earth with their . And the son of Dushmanta reduced to subjection all the kings of the earth. And he ruled virtuously and earned great fame. And that monarch of great prowess was known by the titles of ' and '. And he performed many sacrifices like Sakra or the lord of the Marutas. And Kanwa was the chief priest in those sacrifices in which the offerings to Brahmanas were great. And the blessed monarch performed both the cow- and the horse-sacrifices. And Bharata gave unto Kanwa a thousand


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l

King Giuki.

Grimhild, his wife.

, daughter of Giuki, wife of.

King Budli.

Atli, his son, second husband of.

Bekkhild, daughter of Budli, wife of Heimir of Hlymdale.

Heimer of Hlymdale, foster-father of.

Glaumvor, second wife of Gunnar.

Kostbera, wife of Hogni.

Vingi, an evil counsellor of King Atli.

Jormunrek, king of the Goths, husband of Swanhild.

Randver, his son.

Bikki, his evil counsellor.

Jonakr, ’s third husband.

Sorli, Hamdir, and Erp, the sons of Jonakr and.

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228 gold coins as the sacrificial fee. It is that Bharata from whom have flowed so many mighty achievements. It is from him that the great race hath sprung called after his name. And all monarchs that have come after him in his race are called after him. And in the Bharata race there have been born many god-like monarchs gifted with great energy, and like unto Brahmā himself. Their numbers cannot be counted. But, O thou of the Bharata race, I shall name the principal ones that were blessed with great good fortune, like unto the gods, and devoted to truth and honesty."

And so ends the seventy-fourth Section in the Sambhava of the Adi Parva.

( Sambhava Parva continued. )

Vaisampayana said, "Hear now, as I recite, the recorded genealogy, that is sacred and subservient to religion, profit, and pleasure, of these royal sages: the lord of creation, Daksha; Manu the son of Surya; Bharata; Kuru; Puru; and Ajmida. I shall also recite to thee, O sinless one, the genealogies of the Yadavas and of the Kurus; and of the kings of the Bharata line. These genealogies are sacred and their recitation is a great act of propitiation. That recitation confereth wealth, fame, and long life. And, O sinless one, all those I have named shone in their splendour and were equal unto the great Rishis in energy.

"Pracheta had ten sons who were all devoted to asceticism and possessed every virtue. They burnt of old, by the fire emanating from their mouths, several plants of poisonous properties, and innumerable large trees that had covered the earth and become a source of great discomfort to man. After these ten, was born another named Daksha. It is from Daksha that all creatures have sprung. Therefore is he, O tiger among men, called the Grand-father. And born of Pracheta, the Muni Daksha, uniting himself with Virini, begat a thousand sons of rigid vows, all like himself. And Narada taught these thousand sons of Daksha the excellent philosophy of Sankhya


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 snub nose, and spreading them out in a derisive and very familiar grimace. I began to talk about the picture, about school, and about Miss McWaters. Then a cloud waved back from my brain; the portrait slid into its place, the imp disappeared, and everything was once more as it should be. But I felt a burning thirst, and when Mrs. Carroll opened the door of a large, bright, sunny room, I was glato fling myself down on the bed. Almost immediately I was seized by a deadly sickness. I managed to get off the bed in time to avoid making a mess, but the vomiting returned again and again, till I collapsed into a state of exhaustion. Heavy clouds waved across my brain, obscuring my thoughts, and again clearing, leaving consciousness to flicker up, like the flame in a dying lamp, so that I knew I had been undressed and was safe in bed. And all the time I wanted to drink—to drink More than one person was in the room with me; Mrs. Carroll was there, and old Doctor O'Brian. In the open doorway Miss Dick hovered. And then suddenly I was alone. I could hear a fire crackling in the grate, and it had grown darker. A lamp was burning on a table somewhere over beside the fireplace. I listened to the fire, and presently it seemed to me I could hear the lamp burning too. It burned with a soft low continuous sound that was like the note of a flute, and it occurred to me that everything in the world was only sound—the bed I was lying on, the shadows flickering across the ceiling, the dancing firelight—all were but notes of a tune. This appeared so strikingly obvious that I could not understand why I had never noticed it before. I tried to make out what the tune was, but it eluded me, flickering away from me like a butterfly. I turned round in my bed, for I had heard a slight noise at the door. All seemed now to have grown silent. I could not hear the lamp burning, nor even the fire. This silence was surely unusual, abnormal; it filled me with a vague disquietude. It grew deeper and deeper till I could


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Rh as a means of Salvation. [These, therefore, totally abstained from begetting creatures.] And, O Janamejaya, the lord of creation, Daksha, then, from desire of making creatures, begat fifty daughters. And he made all of them his appointed daughters (so that their sons might be his sons also for the performance of all religious acts.) And he bestowed ten of his daughters on Dharma, and thirteen on Kasyapa. And he gave twenty-seven to Chandra, who are all engaged in indicating time. And Kasyapa, the son of Marichi, begat in her who was the eldest of his thirteen wives, the Adityas, the celestials endued with great energy and having Indra as their head, and also Vivaswan (the Sun.) And from Vivaswan was born the lord Yama. And Martanda (Vivaswan) also begot another son after Yama, gifted with great intelligence and named Manu. And Manu was endued with great wisdom and devoted to virtue. And he became the progenitor of a line. And in Manu's race have been born all human beings who have, therefore, been called Manavas. And it is from Manu that all men including Brahmanas, Kshatrias, and others have been born. And therefore are they all called Manavas. Subsequently, O monarch, the Brahmanas became united with the Kshatrias. And those sons of Manu that were Brahmanas devoted themselves to the study of the Vedas. And Manu begot ten other children named Vena, Dhrishnu, Narishyan, Nabhaga, Ikshaku, Karusha, Sharyati, the eighth a daughter named Ila, Prishadhru the ninth, and Nabhagarishta the tenth. They all betook themselves to the practices of Kshatras. Besides these, Manu had fifty other sons on earth. But we heard that they all perished quarreling with each other. The learned Pururavā was born of Ilā. It hath been heard by us that Ilā was both his mother and father. And the great Pururava had sway over thirteen islands of the sea. And though a human being he was always surrounded by companions that were inhuman. And Pururava, intoxicated with power, quarreled with the Brahmanas and little caring for their anger robbed them of their wealth. Beholding all this, Sanatkumara came from the region of Brahmā and gave him good counsels which were, however, all rejected by Puru-


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{|style="width:100%; border-bottom:2px solid black" '''Figure LPP-9. Change in population size in Albany County, Wyoming, from the 2000 census to the 2010 census.''' by approximately 1750. By the early 1800s, Euro-Americans were becoming more common in the area and evidence of trade with the Native Americans in horses, firearms, and ornamental items is increasingly evident in the archaeological record. Native American tribes, including the Crow, Cheyenne, Sioux, and Arapaho, lost their lands with the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, and many were relocated to reservations outside Wyoming.
 * 22Land Protection Plan—Wyoming Toad Conservation Area, Wyoming
 * }
 * }

As is the case with much of the West, the early Euro-American exploration of the Laramie Plains owes much of its beginnings to the fur-trapping trade. In 1820, Jacques Laramie trapped along the river that now bears his name. Although thousands of Euro-Americans traveled through what is now the State of Wyoming in the 1840s and 1850s, most were heading farther west on the nearby Oregon, California, Overland, and Mormon trails, and few of them settled in what would become Wyoming. From 1862 to 1868, approximately 20,000 people per year traveled along the Overland Trail, which ran approximately 3 miles north of what is now Hutton Lake '''Figure LPP-10. Employment distribution in Albany County, Wyoming, 2010.'''


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{|style="width:100%; border-bottom:2px solid black; text-align:right" National Wildlife Refuge. The stage stations established by the Overland Stage Company became the first permanent Euro-American structures in the area (Larson and Letts 2003).
 * Chapter 2—Area Description and Resources23
 * }
 * }

The first homestead in the basin was built in 1864 by Phillip Mandel along the Little Laramie River. It also served as a stage station for the Overland Trail. Mandel sold replacement stock to travelers and later cut and sold hay to soldiers at Fort Sanders, which was established in 1866 just south of present-day Laramie and about 10 miles northeast of Hutton Lake Refuge. Until 1882, when the fort closed, it helped protect the early settlers and travelers in the basin during the many conflicts with Native Americans. The construction of the Union Pacific Railroad through the area in the late 1860s was one of the most influential events in the history of the region. The development of the railroad lead to the growth of Laramie and was the catalyst for expanding the cattle and sheep ranching industries that are still present today.

The Service has a trust responsibility to Native American tribes that includes protection of tribal sovereignty and preservation of tribal culture and other trust resources. The Service does not now propose any project, activity, or program that would result in changes in the character of, or adversely affect, any historical cultural resource or archaeological site. When such undertakings are considered, the Service takes all necessary steps to comply with Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, as amended. The Service complies with Section 110 of the act by surveying, inventorying, and evaluating cultural resources

Landownership, property taxes, public use, and wildlife-dependent recreational activities of the Laramie Plains are discussed in this section.

The proposed project area is located in Albany County, Wyoming, which has a population of 36,299 (U.S. Department of Commerce 2011). Most of the population (30,816) lives in Laramie, the largest city in Albany County. Wyoming has a population of 563,626 (U.S. Department of Commerce 2011). Over a 10-year period (2000–2010), the population of Wyoming increased by 14.1 percent and the population of Albany County increased by 13.4 percent. In 2010, the county’s population rose 6.8 percent or by 2,320 persons. Within this 10-year span, 84 percent of the growth was within the boundaries of the city of Laramie (see figure LPP-9).

The economy of the project area is tied to the city of Laramie. The presence of the University of Wyoming strongly influences Albany County’s occupational demographics, with 41 percent of the 2010 population working in management, professional, and related occupations (including education) (see figure LPP-10). Farming, fishing, and forestry account for 0.13 percent of the workforce, a reduction from 1.4 percent in 2006 (Wyoming Department of Workforce Services 2012) (see figure LPP-10).

The agricultural trend within the Laramie Plains follows statewide trends. From 2002 to 2007, the number of farms in Albany County increased from 320 to 448, a 40-percent increase. Although the number of farms increased, the acreage being farmed decreased by 22 percent, indicating that while there are more farms, they are smaller in size (USDA 2007).

Wyoming ranks eighth among States in total acres (42.3 percent) owned by the Federal government (U.S. General Services Administration 2010). The State government owns 6 percent (3,854,800 acres) of all Wyoming lands.

Property taxes constitute the largest source of local government revenue (Urban Institute and Brookings Institution 2008) and are not expected to be substantially affected by conservation easements in the proposed WTCA. Property taxes are assessed based on the value of property. For most types of properties, county assessors use fair market value to calculate property tax liabilities; however, agricultural land is often assessed differently. In many States, the assessed value of agricultural land is calculated based on the productive value of the land rather than on the fair market value of the property.

The fair market value of a property is calculated by an appraisal. This value includes both the productive value of the land and any speculative value associated with the possibility of developing the land. Conservation easements reduce the fair market value of property by removing the speculative value associated with possible development; however, conservation easements generally do not affect the productive value of agricultural land.

Wyoming landowners now pay property taxes on their private lands to the counties. These taxes are based on a fair market value, and agricultural land is


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{|style="width:100%; border-bottom:2px solid black" taxed based on the land’s productive capability under normal conditions. Since most of the properties within the proposed project area are classified as agricultural land and any easements would allow private landowners to keep ownership, there will be little effect on the current property tax base for Albany County.
 * 24Land Protection Plan—Wyoming Toad Conservation Area, Wyoming
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The buying of any fee-title lands will reduce the amount of property tax revenue collected by local governments because the Service is exempt from taxation on its property holdings. However, counties would qualify for reimbursement of some property tax revenue through the Refuge Revenue Sharing Act of 1935, which allows the Service to make annual payments to local governments in areas where fee-title purchases have removed land from the tax rolls. Payments are based on the greater of 75 cents per acre or 0.75 percent of the fair market value. The exact amount of the annual payment depends on Congressional appropriations, which in recent years have tended to be substantially less than the amount needed to fully provide the authorized level of payments. In fiscal year 2010, actual payments were 22 percent of authorized levels.

Residents of and visitors to the Laramie Plains are attracted to the area, in part, by the abundance of wildlife. This area offers many wildlife-dependent activities, including hunting, fishing, birding, and wildlife photography, which generate millions of dollars for the State’s economy (Hulme et al. 2009).

In 2006, the WGFD estimated expenditures of $107.7 million by resident and nonresident hunters pursingpursuing [sic] the six big game species in the State: white-tailed deer, mule deer, moose, elk, bighorn sheep, and pronghorn. Resident hunters accounted for 67 percent of the total (Hulme et al. 2009). The National Survey of Fishing, Hunting, and Wildlife-Associated Recreation (USFWS 2008) found that in 2006, $137.3 million was spent in Wyoming by both resident and nonresident hunters. Wildlife watchers, both residents and visitors, spent a total of $394.9 million in the State of Wyoming that year as well (USFWS 2008).


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4 through the thickest hedge of pikes, and stood firm before the wildest onset of Celt or German The organization of Augustus and Trajan was swept away by Constantine, and the legions which for three hundred years had preserved their identity, their proud titles of honour, and their ésprit de corps, knew themselves no longer.

Constantine, when he cut down the numbers of the military unit to a quarter of its former strength, and created many scores of new corps, was acting from motives of political and not military expediency. The armament and general character of the troops survived their organization, and the infantry, the ',' still remained the most important and numerous part of the army. At the same time, however, a tendency to strengthen the cavalry made itself felt, and the proportion of that arm to the whole number of the military establishment continued steadily to increase throughout the fourth century. Constantine himself, by depriving the legion of its complementary ',' and uniting the horsemen into larger independent bodies, bore witness to their growing importance. It would seem that the Empire—having finally abandoned the offensive in war, and having resolved to confine itself to the protection of its own provinces—found that there was an increasing need for troops who could transfer themselves with rapidity from one menaced point on the frontier to another. The Germans could easily distance the legion, burdened by the care of its military machines and impedimenta. Hence cavalry in larger numbers was required to intercept their raids.

But it would appear that another reason for the increase of the horsemen was even more powerful. The ascendancy of the Roman infantry over its enemies was no longer so


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230 rava. Then the wrath of the great Rishis was excited, and the avaricious monarch, who, intoxicated with power, had lost his reason, was immediately destroyed by their curse.

"It was Pururava who first brought from the region of the Gandhavrvas the three kinds of fire (for sacrificial purposes.) And he brought thence the Apsarā Urvarsi also. And the son of Ila begat in Urvasi six sons who were called Aya, Dhimān, Amavasu, and Dhridhayu, and Vanayu, and Shatayu. And it is said that Ayu begat four sons, named Nahusha,, Rajingaya, and Anenā, in the daughter of Sharvanu. And, O monarch, Nahusha, of all the sons of Ayu, was gifted with great intelligence and prowess. And he ruled his extensive kingdom virtuously. And king Nahusha supported evenly the Pitris, the celestials, the Rishis, the Brahmanas, the Gandharvas, the Nagas, the Rakshasas, the Kshatrias, and the Vaisyas. And he suppressed all robber gangs with a mighty hand. But he made the Rishis pay tribute and carry him on their backs like beasts of burden. And conquering the very gods by the beauty of his person, his asceticism, prowess, and energy, he rule as if he were Indra himself. And Nahusha begot six sons, all of sweet speech, named Yati, Yayati, Sanyati, Ayäti, Ayati, and Dhruva. Yati betaking himself to asceticism became a Muni like unto Brahmā himself. Yayäti became a monarch of great prowess and virtue. He ruled the whole earth, performed numberless sacrifices, worshipped the Pitris with great veneration, and always respected the gods. And he brought the whole world under his sway and was never vanquished by any foe. And the sons of Yayãti were all great bowmen and resplendent with every virtue. And, O king, they were begotten in (his two wives) Devayani and Sharmishtã. And in Devayãni were born Yadu and Turvasu, and in Sharmishta were born Drahyu, Anu, and Puru. And, O king, having virtuously ruled his subjects for a long time, Yayãti was attacked with hideous decrepitude destroying his personal beauty. And attacked by decrepitude, the monarch then spoke, O Bharata, unto his sons Yadu and Puru and Turvashu and Drahyu and Anu these words:—'O dear sons, I wish to be a young man and to gratify my appe-


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 himself the human flesh, but only coexternally became consubstantial with Christ who was born of a woman. On the other hand, if for us suffered and died on the cross not the Son of God, with his flesh taken up by him into a union with his hypostasis, but a simple man, Christ, who had only a moral union with the Son of God,—then there could not have taken place our redemption, because man, no matter how holy he may be, on account of his limitations, is not able to bring sufficient satisfaction to the infinite justice of God for the sins of the whole human race. And, by tearing down the mystery of the incarnation and the mystery of the redemption, the Nestorian heresy tore down the whole structure of the Christian faith.” (pp. 85 and 86.)

Thus it turns out that what cannot be comprehended or even expressed, what cannot be thought of otherwise than by learning it by heart and repeating these words, is precisely what the whole structure of the Christian faith is reared on. In connection with the disclosure of this dogma one involuntarily comes to the conclusion that the dogma of the Trinity and those of the redemption, of grace, of incarnation,—that the more monstrous and senseless they are, the more important they turn out to be in the opinion of the church and the more controversies there have been in regard to them.

Have there been so many controversies because the dogma is monstrous, or has the dogma turned out to be so monstrous because it is the outgrowth of controversy and malice? I think both have happened. A dogma which by its nature is monstrous causes controversy, and the controversy makes the dogma still more monstrous. Another remarkable thing is that the more important a dogma is regarded to be by the church, the more controversies and malice and executions there have been, and the less meaning or possibility of moral application it has. The dogmas of the emanation of the Spirit, of the essence


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The best horror-tales of today, profiting by the long evolution of the type, possess a naturalness, convincingness, artistic smoothness, and skilful intensity of appeal quite beyond comparison with anything in the Gothic work of a century or more ago. Technique, craftsmanship, experience, and psychological knowledge have advanced tremendously with the passing years, so that much of the older work seems naive and artificial; redeemed, when redeemed at all, only by a genius which conquers heavy limitations. The tone of jaunty and inflated romance, full of false motivation and investing every conceivable event with a counterfeit significance and carelessly inclusive glamour, is now confined to lighter and more whimsical phases of supernatural writing. Serious weird stories are either made realistically intense by close consistency and perfect fidelity to Nature except in the one supernatural direction which the author allows himself, or else cast altogether in the realm of phantasy, with atmosphere cunningly adapted to the visualisation of a delicately exotic world of unreality beyond space and time, in which almost anything may happen if it but happen in true accord with certain types of imagination and illusion normal to the sensitive human brain. This, at least, is the dominant tendency; though of course many great contemporary writers slip occasionally into some of the flashy postures of immature romanticism, or into bits of the equally empty and absurd jargon of pseudo-scientific “occultism”, now at one of its periodic high tides.

Of living creators of cosmic fear raised to its most artistic pitch, few if any can hope to equal the versatile Arthur Machen; author of some dozen tales long and short, in which the elements of hidden horror and brooding fright attain an almost incomparable substance and realistic acuteness. Mr. Machen, a general man of letters and master of an exquisitely lyrical and expressive prose style, has perhaps put more conscious effort into his picaresque Chronicles Of Clemendy, his refreshing essays, his vivid autobiographical volumes, his fresh and spirited translations, and above all his memorable epic of the sensitive æsthetic mind, The Hill Of Dreams, in which the youthful hero responds to the magic of that ancient Welsh environment which is the author’s own, and lives a dream-life in the Roman city of Isca Silurum, now shrunk to the relic-strown village of Cærleon-on-Usk. But the fact remains that his powerful horror-material of the nineties and earlier nineteen-hundreds stands alone in its class, and marks a distinct epoch in the history of this literary form.

Mr. Machen, with an impressionable Celtic heritage linked to keen youthful memories of the wild domed hills, archaic forests, and cryptical Roman ruins of the Gwent countryside, has developed an imaginative life of rare beauty, intensity, and historic background. He has absorbed the mediæval mystery of dark woods and ancient customs, and is a champion of the Middle Ages in all things—including the Catholic faith. He has yielded, likewise, to the spell of the Britanno-Roman life which once surged over his native region; and finds strange magic in the fortified camps, tessellated pavements, fragments of statues, and kindred things which tell of the day when classicism reigned and Latin was the language of the country. A young American poet, Frank Belknap Long, Jun., has well summarised this dreamer’s rich endowments and wizardry of expression in the sonnet On Reading Arthur Machen: Of Mr. Machen’s horror-tales the most famous is perhaps The Great God Pan, (1894) which tells of a singular and terrible experiment and its consequences. A

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 young woman, through surgery of the brain-cells, is made to see the vast and monstrous deity of Nature, and becomes an idiot in consequence, dying less than a year later. Years afterward a strange, ominous, and foreign-looking child named Helen Vaughan is placed to board with a family in rural Wales, and haunts the woods in unaccountable fashion. A little boy is thrown out of his mind at sight of someone or something he spies with her, and a young girl comes to a terrible end in similar fashion. All this mystery is strangely interwoven with the Roman rural deities of the place, as sculptured in antique fragments. After another lapse of years, a woman of strangely exotic beauty appears in society, drives her husband to horror and death, causes an artist to paint unthinkable paintings of Witches’ Sabbaths, creates an epidemic of suicide among the men of her acquaintance, and is finally discovered to be a frequenter of the lowest dens of vice in London, where even the most callous degenerates are shocked at her enormities. Through the clever comparing of notes on the part of thasethose [sic] who have had word of her at various stages of her career, this woman is discovered to be the girl Helen Vaughan; who is the child—by no mortal father—of the young woman on whom the brain experiment was made. She is a daughter of hideous Pan himself, and at the last is put to death amidst horrible transmutations of form involving changes of sex and a descent to the most primal manifestations of the life-principle.

But the charm of the tale is in the telling. No one could begin to describe the cumulative suspense and ultimate horror with which every paragraph abounds without following fully the precise order in which Mr. Machen unfolds his gradual hints and revelations. Melodrama is undeniably present, and coincidence is stretched to a length which appears absurd upon analysis; but in the malign witchery of the tale as a whole these trifles are forgotten, and the sensitive reader reaches the end with only an appreciative shudder and a tendency to repeat the words of one of the characters: “It is too incredible, too monstrous; such things can never be in this quiet world. … Why, man, if such a case were possible, our earth would be a nightmare.”

Less famous and less complex in plot than The Great God Pan, but definitely finer in atmosphere and general artistic value, is the curious and dimly disquieting chronicle called The White People, whose central portion purports to be the diary or notes of a little girl whose nurse has introduced her to some of the forbidden magic and soul-blasting traditions of the noxious witch-cult—the cult whose whispered lore was handed down long lines of peasantry throughout Western Europe, and whose members sometimes stole forth at night, one by one, to meet in black woods and lonely places for the revolting orgies of the Witches’ Sabbath. Mr. Machen’s narrative, a triumph of skilful selectiveness and restraint, accumulates enormous power as it flows on in a stream of innocent childish prattle; introducing allusions to strange “nymphs”, “Dols”, “voolas”, “white, green, and scarlet ceremonies”, “Aklo letters”, “Chian language”, “Mao games”, and the like. The rites learned by the nurse from her witch grandmother are taught to the child by the time she is three years old, and her artless accounts of the dangerous secret revelations possess a lurking terror generously mixed with pathos. Evil charms well known to anthropologists are described with juvenile naivete, and finally there comes a winter afternoon journey into the old Welsh hills, performed under an imaginative spell which lends to the wild scenery an added weirdness, strangeness, and suggestion of grotesque sentience. The details of this journey are given with marvellous vividness, and form to the keen critic a masterpiece of fantastic writing, with almost unlimited power in the intimation of potent hideousness and cosmic aberration. At length the child—whose age is then thirteen—comes upon a cryptic and banefully beautiful thing in the midst of a dark and inaccessible wood. She flees in awe, but is permanently altered and repeatedly revisits the wood. In the end horror overtakes her in a manner deftly prefigured by an anecdote in the prologue, but she poisons herself in time. Like the mother of Helen Vaughan in The Great God Pan, she has seen that frightful deity. She is discovered dead in the dark wood beside the cryptic thing she found; and that thing—a whitely luminous statue of Roman

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 about which dire mediæval rumours had clustered—is affrightedly hammered into dust by the searchers.

In the episodic novel of The Three Impostors, a work whose merit as a whole is somewhat marred by an imitation of the jaunty Stevenson manner, occur certain tales which perhaps represent the high-water mark of Machen’s skill as a terror-weaver. Here we find in its most artistic form a favourite weird conception of the author’s; the notion that beneath the mounds and rocks of the wild Welsh hills dwell subterraneously that squat primitive race whose vestiges gave rise to our common folk legends of fairies, elves, and the “little people”, and whose acts are even now responsible for certain unexplained disappearances, and occasional substitutions of strange dark “changelings” for normal infants. This theme receives its finest treatment in the episode entitled The Novel Of The Black Seal; where a professor, having discovered a singular identity between certain characters scrawled on Welsh limestone rocks and those existing in a prehistoric black seal from Babylon, sets out on a course of discovery which leads him to unknown and terrible things. A queer passage in the ancient geographer Solinus, a series of mysterious disappearances in the lonely reaches of Wales, a strange idiot son born to a rural mother after a fright in which her inmost faculties were shaken; all these things suggest to the professor a hideous connexion and a condition revolting to any friend and respecter of the human race. He hires the idiot boy, who jabbers strangely at times in a repulsive hissing voice, and is subject to odd epileptic seizures. Once, after such a seizure in the professor’s study by night, disquieting odours and evidences of unnatural presences are found; and soon after that the professor leaves a bulky document and goes into the weird hills with feverish expectancy and strange terror in his heart. He never returns, but beside a fantastic stone in the wild country are found his watch, money, and ring, done up with catgut in a parchment bearing the same terrible characters as those on the black Babylonish seal and the rock in the Welsh mountains.

The bulky document explains enough to bring up the most hideous vistas. Professor Gregg, from the massed evidence presented by the Welsh disappearances, the rock inscription, the accounts of ancient geographers, and the black seal, has decided that a frightful race of dark primal beings of immemorial antiquity and wide former diffusion still dwell beneath the hills of unfrequented Wales. Further reasearchresearch [sic] has unriddled the message of the black seal, and proved that the idiot boy, a son of some father more terrible than mankind, is the heir of monstrous memories and possibilities. That strange night in the study the professor invoked ‘the awful transmutation of the hills’ by the aid of the black seal, and aroused in the hybrid idiot the horrors of his shocking paternity. He “saw his body swell and become distended as a bladder, while the face blackened….” And then the supreme effects of the invocation appeared, and Professor Gregg knew the stark frenzy of cosmic panic in its darkest form. He knew the abysmal gulfs of abnormality that he had opened, and went forth into the wild hills prepared and resigned. He would meet the unthinkable ‘Little People’—and his document ends with a rational observation: “If unhappily I do not return from my journey, there is no need to conjure up here a picture of the awfulness of my fate.”

Also in The Three Impostors is the Novel Of The White Powder, which approaches the absolute culmination of loathsome fright. Francis Leicester, a young law student nervously worn out by seclusion and overwork, has a prescription filled by an old apothecary none too careful about the state of his drugs. The substance, it later turns out, is an unusual salt which time and varying temperature have accidentally changed to something very strange and terrible; nothing less, in short, than the mediæval vinum sabbati, whose consumption at the horrible orgies of the Witches’ Sabbath gave rise to shocking transformations and—if injudiciously used—to unutterable consequences. Innocently enough, ‘the youth regularly imbibes the powder in a glass of water after meals; and at first seems substantially benefited. Gradually, however, his improved spirits take the form of dissipation; he is absent from home a great deal,

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 and appears to have undergone a repellent psychological change. One day an odd livid spot appears on his right hand, and he afterward returns to his seclusion; finally keeping himself shut within his room and admitting none of the household. The doctor calls for an interview, and departs in a palsy of horror, saying that he can do no more in that house. Two weeks later the patient’s sister, walking outside, sees a monstrous thing at the sickroom window; and servants report that food left at the locked door is no longer touched. Summons at the door bring only a sound of shuffling and a demand in a thick gurgling voice to be let alone. At last an awful happening is reported by a shuddering housemaid. The ceiling of the room below Leicester’s is stained with a hideous black fluid, and a pool of viscid abomination has dripped to the bed beneath. Dr. Haberden, now persuaded to return to the house, breaks down the young man’s door and strikes again and again with an iron bar at the blasphemous semi-living thing he find there. It is “a dark and putrid mass, seething with corruption and hideous rottenness, neither liquid nor solid, but melting and changing.” Burning points like eyes shine out of its midst, and before it is despatched it tries to lift what might have been an arm. Soon afterward the physician, unable to endure the memory of what he has beheld, dies at sea while bound for a new life in America.

Mr. Machen returns to the dæmoniac “Little People” in The Red Hand and The Shining Pyramid; and in The Terror, a wartime story, he treats with very potent mystery the effect of man’s modern repudiation of spirituality on the beasts of the world, which are thus led to question his supremacy and to unite for his extermination. Of utmost delicacy, and passing from mere horror into true mysticism, is The Great Return, a story of the Graal, also a product of the war period. Too well known to need description here is the tale of The Bowmen; which, taken for authentic narration, gave rise to the widespread legend of the “Angels of Mons”—ghosts of the old English archers of Crecy and Agincourt who fought in 1914 beside the hard-pressed ranks of England’s glorious “Old Contemptibles.”

Less intense than Mr. Machen in delineating the extremes of stark fear, yet infinitely more closely wedded to the idea of an unreal world constantly pressing upon ours is the inspired and prolific Algernon Blackwood, amidst whose voluminous and uneven work may be found some of the finest spectral literature of this or any age. Of the quality of Mr. Blackwood’s genius there can be no dispute; for no one has even approached the skill, seriousness, and minute fidelity with which he records the overtones of strangeness in ordinary things and experiences, or the preternatural insight with which he builds up detail by detail the complete sensations and perceptions leading from reality into supernormal life or vision. Without notable command of the poetic witchery of mere words, he is the one absolute and unquestioned master of weird atmosphere; and can evoke what amounts almost to a story from a simple fragment of humourless psychological description. Above all others he understands how fully some sensitive minds dwell for ever on the borderland of dream, and how relatively slight is the distinction betwixt those images formed from actual objects and those excited by the play of the imagination.

Mr. Blackwood’s lesser work is marred by several defects such as ethical didacticism, occasional insipid whimsicality, the flatness of benignant supernaturalism, and a too free use of the trade jargon of modern “occultism”. A fault of his more serious efforts is that diffuseness and long-windedness which results from an excessively elaborate attempt, under the handicap of a somewhat bald and journalistic style devoid of intrinsic magic, colour, and vitality, to visualise precise sensations and nuances of uncanny suggestion. But in spite of all this, the major products of Mr. Blackwood attain a genuinely classic level, and evoke as does nothing else in literature an awed and convinced sense of the immanence of strange spiritual spheres or entities.

The well-nigh endless array of Mr. Blackwood’s fiction includes both novels and shorter tales, the latter sometimes independent and sometimes arrayed in series. Foremost of all must be reckoned The Willows, in which the nameless presences on a desolate Danube island are horribly felt

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 paper proprietor peer who, at that time, was urging on the home Government the necessity of lecturing all the subjects of His Majesty on the causes of the war. But he wanted to get that grouse off his chest and its disrespect would pain Levin, who would have to deal with these reports if he did not get married first. Then he lunched off army sausage-meat and potatoes, mashed with their skins complete, watered with an admirable 1906 brut champagne which they bought themselves, and an appalling Canadian cheese—at the headquarters table to which the colonel had invited all the subalterns who that day were going up the line for the first time. They had some h's in their compositions, but in revenge they must have boasted of a pint of adenoid growths between them. There was, however, a charming young half-caste Goa second-lieutenant, who afterwards proved of an heroic bravery. He gave Tietjens a lot of amusing information as to the working of the purdah in Portuguese India.

So, at half-past one Tietjens sat on Schomburg, the coffin-headed, bright chestnut from the Prussian horse-raising establishment near Celle. Almost a pure thoroughbred, this animal had usually the paces of a dining-room table, its legs being fully as stiff. But to-day its legs might have been made of cotton-wool, it lumbered over frosty ground breathing stertorously and, at the jumping ground of the Deccan Horse, a mile above and behind Rouen, it did not so much refuse a very moderate jump as come together in a lugubrious crumple. It was, in the light of a red, jocular sun, like being mounted on a broken-hearted camel. In addition, the fatigues of the morning beginning to tell, Tietjens was troubled by an obsession of O Nine Morgan which he found tiresome to have to stall off.


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 "What the hell," he asked of the orderly, a very silent private on a roan beside him, "what the hell is the matter with his horse Have you been keeping him warm?" He imagined that the clumsy paces of the animal beneath him added to his gloomy obsessions.

The orderly looked straight in front of him over a valley full of hutments. He said:

"No, sir." The 'oss 'ad been put in the 'oss-standings of G depot. By the orders of Lieutenant 'Itchcock. 'Osses, Lieutenant 'Itchcock said, 'ad to be 'ardened.

Tietjens said:

"Did you tell him that it was my orders that Schomburg was to be kept warm? In the stables of the farm behind No. XVI I.B.D."

"The lieutenant," the orderly explained woodenly, "said as 'ow henny departure f'm 'is orders would be visited by the extreme displeasure of Lord Breech'em, K.C.V.O., K.C.B., etcetera." The orderly was quivering with rage.

"You will," Tietjens said very carefully, "when you. fall out with the horses at the Hôtel de la Poste, take Schomburg and the roan to the stables of La Volonté Farm, behind No. XVI I.B.D." The orderly was to close all the windows of the stable, stopping up any chinks with wadding. He would procure, if possible, a sawdust stove, new pattern, from Colonel Gillum's store and light it in the stables. He was also to give Schomburg and the roan oatmeal and water warmed as hot as the horses would take it And Tietjens finished sharply, "If Lieutenant Hotchkiss makes any comments, you will refer him to me. As his C.O."


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Month by month the Czechoslovak Republic is getting over the after-effects of the war and returning to the normal. The danger of famine has been, thanks to America, definitely overcome. The new crops are in, and on the whole they are satisfactory. It is true, of course, that lack of fertilizers and insufficiency of draft animals will make it difficult for many years to bring up the yield to the high average of pre-war cultivation which in wheat, for instance, was more than double the American yield per acre. But the weather during the season just ended has been on the wholefavorable, with the exception of local floods and hailstorms, and it is estimated that the crops will suffice to feed thirteen million people until the end of spring, 1920. Thus the authorities will have plenty of time to purchase and bring in the balance needed for the feeding of the people during the summer months. Both Jugoslavia and Roumania will have grain for export, and as the Danube is open again it will be much easier and cheaper to bring in the wheat and corn from the Balkans than from America, especially as payment can be made to these agricultural countries in Bohemian manufactures. At the same time the government finds it necessary to keep in operation for an indefinite time food measures imposed during the war. All grain will be taken over by the food ministry at prices determined by the government, and the system of bread cards, meat cards etc. will be continued for the present.

External danger to the new Republic has been greatly reduced with the fall of Bela Kuhn’s regime in Budapest. Its engagements and promises could not be trusted: its twofold nature, as a communistic experiment relying for its success on propagation of communism, and as nationalistic Magyar state, made its very existence a constant menace to the integrity of Czechoslovakia. Even after the Magyar invasion of Slovakia had been thrown back and the bolsheviks promised to respect for the future the boundaries set by the peace conference, no Czechoslovak political leader was willing to trust the Magyars, and it was felt necessary to keep large garrisons on the border. For that reason the fall of the extremist regime was welcomed throughout Bohemia and Slovakia as a fortunate event both for the Magyars and their neighbors. At first there was the utmost good will towards the Roumanians who had undertaken a job which nobody else cared to tackle. But as soon as Archduke Joseph, apparently with the help of the Roumanians, came to power in Budapest, the sentiment changed overnight. Before this the Hapsburgs were referred to in Bohemia with contempt or witticisms, but now there was hatred and back of it fear. Under no circumstances can the Czechoslovaks permit that this accursed family should get an opportunity to come back. If the peace conference had not driven out Joseph Hapsburg, it seems most likely that the Czechoslovaks would have marched on Budapest to put down a Hapsburg restoration in its first stages.

Roumanian toleration of Joseph, to give it a mild name, embittered the friendly relations of Czechoslovaks to Roumanians. Through the addition of autonomous Ruthenia to the Czechoslovak Republic the two nations became neighbors, and it was the hope of Czechoslovak statesmen that they would become allies in view of the common hostility of Magyars and Germans. But the behavior of Roumanians in Hungary made their relations to the Czechoslovaks strained. By robbing the Magyars of all that could be carried away they were also robbing the Czechoslovaks. For there