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 their noble descent untainted for so many generations, before they could be admitted into the guild; and, being admitted, were required to swear a solemn oath, that no other pastime or exercise should take up any part of their leisure, the whole of which was to be devoted to the practice of the noble art of shooting with the cross-bow. Once a year a grand match was held, under the patronage of some saint, to whose church-steeple was affixed the bird, or semblance of a bird, to be hit by the victor. The conqueror in the game was Roi des Arbalétriers for the coming year, and received a jewelled decoration accordingly, which he was entitled to wear for twelve months; after which he restored it to the guild, to be again striven for. The family of him who died during the year that he was king, were bound to present the decoration to the church of the patron saint of the guild; and to furnish a similar prize to be contended for afresh. These noble cross-bow men


text: Page:The Remains of Hesiod the Ascraean, including the Shield of Hercules - Elton (1815).djvu/96

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


text:
That I did always love

 * "Proof" in Poems (1890)
 * "That I did always love" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: That I did always love


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 of the middle ages formed a sort of armed guard to the powers in existence, and almost invariably took the aristocratic, in preference to the democratic side, in the numerous civil dissensions in the Flemish towns. Hence they were protected by the authorities, and easily obtained favourable and sheltered sites for their exercise-ground. And thus they came to occupy the old fosse, and took possession of the great orchard of the hospital, lying tranquil and sunny in the hollow below the rampart.

But, in the sixteenth century, it became necessary to construct a street through the exercise-ground of the "Arbalétriers du Grand Serment," and, after much delay, the company were induced by the beloved Infanta Isabella to give up the requisite plot of ground. In recompense for this, Isabella—who herself was a member of the guild, and had even shot down the bird, and been queen in 1615—made many presents to the arbalétriers; and, in return, the grateful city, which had long wanted a nearer road to St. Gudule, but been baffled by the noble archers, called the street after her name. She, as a sort of indemnification to the arbalétriers, caused a "great mansion" to be built for their accommodation in the new Rue d'Isabelle. This mansion was placed in front of their exercise-ground, and was of a square shape. On a remote part of the walls, may still be read—


text:
As if some little Arctic flower

 * "Transplanted" in Poems (1890)
 * "As if some little Arctic flower" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: As if some little Arctic flower


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text:
My River runs to thee—

 * "The Outlet" in Poems (1890)
 * "My river runs to thee" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: My River runs to thee—


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 In that mansion were held all the splendid feasts of the Grand Serment des Arbalétriers. The master-archer lived there constantly, in order to be ever at hand to render his services to the guild. The great saloon was also used for the court balls and festivals, when the archers were not admitted. The Infanta caused other and smaller houses to be built in her new street, to serve as residences for her "garde noble;" and for her "garde bourgeoise," a small habitation each, some of which still remain, to remind us of English almshouses. The "great mansion," with its quadrangular form; the spacious saloon—once used for the archducal balls, where the dark, grave Spaniards mixed with the blond nobility of Brabant and Flanders—now a school-room for Belgian girls; the cross-bow men's archery-ground—all are there—the pensionnat of Madame Héger.

This lady was assisted in the work of instruction by her husband—a kindly, wise, good, and religious man—whose acquaintance I am glad to have made, and who has furnished me with some interesting details, from his wife's recollections and his own, of the two Miss Brontës during their residence in Brussels. He had the better opportunities of watching them, from his giving lessons in the French language and literature in the school. A short extract from a letter, written to me by a French lady resident in Brussels, and well qualified to judge, will help to show the estimation in which he is held.


text: Flora's Lexicon/Amaranth

title: Flora's Lexicon/Amaranth


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 "Je ne connais pas personellement M. Héger, mais je sais qu'il est peu de caractères aussi nobles, aussi admirables que le sien. Il est un des membres les plus zélés de cette Société de S. Vincent de Paul dont je t'ai dejà parlé, et ne se contente pas de servir les pauvres et les malades, mais leur consacre encore les soirées. Après des journées absorbées tout entières par les devoirs que sa place lui impose, il réunit les pauvres, les ouvriers, leur donne des cours gratuits, et trouve encore le moyen de les amuser en les instruisant. Ce dévouement te dira assez que M. Héger est profondement et ouvertement religieux. Il a des manières franches et avenantes; il se fait aimer de tous ceux qui l'approchent, et surtout des enfants. Il a le parole facile, et possède à un haut degré l'éloquence du bon sens et du cœur. Il n'est point auteur. Homme de zèle et de conscience, il vient de se démettre des fonctions élevées et lucratives qu'il exercait à l'Athenée, celles de Préfet des Etudes, parcequ'il ne peut y réaliser le bien qu'il avait esperé, introduire l'enseignement religieux dans le programme des études. J'ai vu une fois Madame Héger, qui a quelque chose de froid et de compassé dans son maintien, et qui prévient peu en sa faveur. Je la crois pourtant aimée et appreciée par ses élèves."

There were from eighty to a hundred pupils in the pensionnat, when Charlotte and Emily Brontë entered in February 1842.

M. Héger's account is that they knew nothing of


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 Hans listened calmly, and then nodded his head. To go there, or elsewhere, to bury himself in the bowels of the earth, or to travel over its summit, was all the same to him! As for me, amused and occupied by the incidents of travel, I had begun to forget the inevitable future; but now I was once more destined to realize the actual state of affairs. What was to be done? Run away? But if I really had intended to leave Professor Hardwigg to his fate, it should have been at Hamburg and not at the foot of Sneffels.

One idea above all others, began to trouble me: a very terrible idea, and one calculated to shake the nerves of a man even less sensitive than myself. "Let us consider the matter," I said to myself; "we are going to ascend the Sneffels mountain. Well and good. We are about to pay a visit to the very bottom of the crater. Good, still. Others have done it and did not perish from that course.

"That, however, is not the whole matter to be considered. If a road does really present itself by which to descend into the dark and subterraneous bowels of Mother Earth, if this thrice unhappy Saknussemm has really told the truth, we shall be most certainly lost in the midst of the labyrinth of subterraneous galleries of the volcano. Now, we have no evidence to prove that Sneffels is really extinct. What proof have we that an eruption is not shortly about to take place? Because the monster has slept soundly since 1229, does it follow that he is never to wake? If he does wake what is to become of us?"

These were questions worth thinking about, and upon them I reflected long and deeply. I could not lie down in search of sleep without dreaming of eruptions. The more I thought, the more I objected to be reduced to the state of dross and ashes. I could stand it no longer; so I determined at last to submit the whole case to my uncle, in the most adroit manner possible, and under the form of some totally irreconcilable hypothesis.

I sought him. I laid before him my fears, and then drew back in order to let him get his passion over at his ease.

"I have been thinking about the matter," he said, in the quietest tone in the world.

What did he mean? Was he at last about to listen to the voice of reason? Did he think of suspending his projects?


text:
I cannot live with You—

 * "In Vain" in Poems (1890)
 * "I cannot live with you" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: I cannot live with You—


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 It was almost too much happiness to be true. I however made no remark. In fact, I was only too anxious not to interrupt him, and allowed him to reflect at his leisure. After some moments he spoke out.

"I have been thinking about the matter," he resumed. "Ever since we have been at Stapi, my mind has been almost solely occupied with the grave question which has been submitted to me by yourself—for nothing would be unwiser and more inconsistent than to act with imprudence."

"I heartily agree with you, my dear uncle," was my somewhat hopeful rejoinder.

"It is now six hundred years since Sneffels has spoken, but though now reduced to a state of utter silence, he may speak again. New volcanic eruptions are always preceded by perfectly well-known phenomena. I have closely examined the inhabitants of this region; I have carefully studied the soil, and I beg to tell you emphatically, my dear Harry, there will be no eruption at present."

As I listened to his positive affirmations, I was stupefied and could say nothing.

"I see you doubt my word," said my uncle; "follow me."

I obeyed mechanically. Leaving the presbytery, the Professor took a road through an opening in the basaltic rock, which led far away from the sea. We were soon in open country, if we could give such a name to a place all covered with volcanic deposits. The whole land seemed crushed under the weight of enormous stones—of trap, of basalt, of granite, of lava, and of all other volcanic substances.

I could see many spouts of steam rising in the air. These white vapors, called in the Icelandic language "reykir," come from hot water fountains, and indicate by their violence the volcanic activity of the soil. Now the sight of these appeared to justify my apprehension. I was, therefore, all the more surprised and mortified when my uncle thus addressed me. "You see all this smoke, Harry, my boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, as long as you see them thus, you have nothing to fear from the volcano."

"How can that be?"

"Be careful to remember this," continued the Professor.


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 French. I suspect they knew as much (or as little), for all conversational purposes, as any English girls do, who have never been abroad, and have only learnt the idioms and pronunciation from an Englishwoman. The two sisters clung together, and kept apart from the herd of happy, boisterous, well-befriended Belgian girls, who, in their turn, thought the new English pupils wild and scared-looking, with strange, odd, insular ideas about dress; for Emily had taken a fancy to the fashion, ugly and preposterous even during its reign, of gigot sleeves, and persisted in wearing them long after they were "gone out." Her petticoats, too, had not a curve or a wave in them, but hung down straight and long, clinging to her lank figure. The sisters spoke to no one but from necessity. They were too full of earnest thought, and of the exile's sick yearning, to be ready for careless conversation, or merry game. M. Héger, who had done little but observe, during the few first weeks of their residence in the Rue d'Isabelle, perceived that with their unusual characters, and extraordinary talents, a different mode must be adopted from that in which he generally taught French to English girls. He seems to have rated Emily's genius as something even higher than Charlotte's; and her estimation of their relative powers was the same. Emily had a head for logic, and a capability of argument, unusual in a man, and rare indeed in a woman, according to M. Héger. Impairing the force of this gift, was her stubborn tenacity of will, which rendered her obtuse to all reasoning where her own wishes, or her own sense of right, was concerned.


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 "At the approach of an eruption these spouts of vapor redouble their activity—to disappear altogether during the period of volcanic eruption; for the elastic fluids, no longer having the necessary tension, seek refuge in the interior of the crater, instead of escaping through the fissures of the earth. If, then, the steam remains in its normal or habitual state, if their energy does not increase, and if you add to this, the remark, that the wind is not replaced by heavy atmospheric pressure and dead calm, you may be quite sure that there is no fear of any immediate eruption."

"But"

"Enough, my boy. When science has sent forth her fiat—it is only to hear and obey."

I came back to the house quite downcast and disappointed. My uncle had completely defeated me with his scientific arguments. Nevertheless, I had still one hope, and that was, when once we were at the bottom of the crater, that it would be impossible in default of a gallery or tunnel, to descend any deeper; and this, despite all the learned Saknussemms in the world.

I passed the whole of the following night with a nightmare on my chest! and, after unheard-of miseries and tortures, found myself in the very depths of the earth, from which I was suddenly launched into planetary space, under the form of an eruptive rock!

Next day, the 23d June, Hans calmly awaited us outside the presbytery with his two companions loaded with provisions, tools, and instruments. Two iron-shod poles, two guns, and two large game bags, were reserved for my uncle and myself. Hans, who was a man who never forgot even the minutest precautions, had added to our baggage a large skin full of water, as an addition to our gourds. This assured us water for eight days.

It was nine o'clock in the morning when we were quite ready. The rector and his huge wife or servant, I never knew which, stood at the door to see us off. They appeared to be about to inflict on us the usual final kiss of the Icelanders. To our supreme astonishment their adieu took the shape of a formidable bill, in which they even counted the use of the pastoral house, really and truly the most abominable and dirty place I ever was in. The worthy couple cheated and robbed us like a Swiss innkeeper, and


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 made us feel, by the sum we had to pay, the splendors of their hospitality. My uncle, however, paid without bargaining. A man who had made up his mind to undertake a voyage into the Interior of the Earth, is not the man to haggle over a few miserable rix-dollars.

This important matter settled, Hans gave the signal for departure, and some few moments later we had left Stapi.

huge volcano which was the first stage of our daring experiment, is above five thousand feet high. Sneffels is the termination of a long range of volcanic mountains, of a different character to the system of the island itself. One of its peculiarities is its two huge pointed summits. From where we started it was impossible to make out the real outlines of the peak against the gray field of sky. All we could distinguish was a vast dome of white, which fell downwards from the head of the giant. The commencement of the great undertaking filled me with awe. Now that we had actually started, I began to believe in the reality of the undertaking!

Our party formed quite a procession. We walked in single file, preceded by Hans, the imperturbable eider-duck hunter. He calmly led us by narrow paths where two persons could by no possibility walk abreast. Conversation was wholly impossible. We had all the more opportunity to reflect, and to admire the awful grandeur of the scene around.

As we advanced, the road became every moment more difficult. The soil was broken and dangerous. The rocks broke and gave way under our feet, and we had to be scrupulously careful in order to avoid dangerous and constant falls. Hans advanced as calmly as if he had been walking over Salisbury Plain; sometimes he would disappear behind huge blocks of stone, and we momentarily lost sight of him. There was a little period of anxiety and then there was a shrill whistle, just to tell us where to look for him.

Occasionally he would take it into his head to stop to


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 "She should have been a man—a great navigator," said M. Héger in speaking of her. "Her powerful reason would have deduced new spheres of discovery from the knowledge of the old; and her strong, imperious will would never have been daunted by opposition or difficulty; never have given way but with life." And yet, moreover, her faculty of imagination was such that, if she had written a history, her view of scenes and characters would have been so vivid, and so powerfully expressed, and supported by such a show of argument, that it would have dominated over the reader, whatever might have been his previous opinions, or his cooler perceptions of its truth. But she appeared egotistical and exacting compared to Charlotte, who was always unselfish (this is M. Héger's testimony); and in the anxiety of the elder to make her younger sister contented, she allowed her to exercise a kind of unconscious tyranny over her.

After consulting with his wife, Mr. Héger told them that he meant to dispense with the old method of grounding in grammar, vocabulary, &c., and to proceed on a new plan—something similar to what he had occasionally adopted with the elder among his French and Belgian pupils. He proposed to read to them some of the master-pieces of the most celebrated French authors (such as Casimir de la Vigne's poem on the "Death of Joan of Arc," parts of Bossuet, the admirable translation of the noble letter of St. Ignatius to the Roman Christians in the "Bibliothèque Choisie des Pères de l'Eglise, &c), and after having thus impressed the


text:
I'm ceded—I've stopped being Theirs—

 * "Love's Baptism" in Poems (1890)
 * "I'm ceded, I've stopped being theirs" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: I'm ceded—I've stopped being Theirs—


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 pick up lumps of rock, and silently pile them up into small heaps, in order that we might not lose our way on our return. He had no idea of the journey we were about to undertake. At all events, the precaution was a good one; though how utterly useless and unnecessary—but I must not anticipate.

Three hours of terrible fatigue, walking incessantly, had only brought us to the foot of the great mountain. This will give some notion of what we had still to undergo.

Suddenly, however, Hans cried a halt—that is, he made signs to that effect—and a summary kind of breakfast was laid out on the lava before us. My uncle, who now was simply Professor Hardwigg, was so eager to advance, that he bolted his food like a greedy clown. This halt for refreshment was also a halt for repose. The Professor was therefore compelled to wait the good pleasure of his imperturbable guide, who did not give the signal for departure for a good hour. The three Icelanders, who were as taciturn as their comrade, did not say a word; but went on eating and drinking very quietly and soberly.

From this, our first real stage, we began to ascend the slopes of the Sneffels volcano. Its magnificent snowy night-cap, as we began to call it, by an optical delusion very common in mountains, appeared to me to be close at hand; and yet how many long weary hours must elapse before we reached its summit. What unheard-of fatigue must we endure!

The stones on the mountain side, held together by no cement of soil, bound together by no roots or creeping herbs, gave way continually under our feet, and went rushing below into the plains, like a series of small avalanches. In certain places the sides of this stupendous mountain were at an angle so steep that it was impossible to climb upwards, and we were compelled to get round these obstacles as best we might. Those who understand Alpine climbing will comprehend our difficutlies. Often we were obliged to help each other along by means of our climbing poles.

I must say this for my uncle, that he stuck as close to me as possible. He never lost sight of me, and on many occasions his arm supplied me with firm and solid support. He was strong, wiry, and apparently insensible to fatigue. Another great advantage with him was that he had the


text:
'Twas a long Parting—but the time

 * "Resurrection" in Poems (1890)
 * "'Twas a long parting, but the time" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: 'Twas a long Parting—but the time


text:
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 innate sentiment of equilibrium—for he never slipped or failed in his steps. The Icelanders, though heavily loaded, climbed with the agility of mountaineers.

Looking up, every now and then, at the height of the great volcano of Sneffels, it appeared to me wholly impossible to reach to the summit on that side; at all events, if the angle of inclination did not speedily change.

Fortunately, after an hour of unheard-of fatigues, and of gymnastic exercises that would have been trying to an acrobat, we came to a vast field of ice, which wholly surrounded the bottom of the cone of the volcano. The natives called it the table-cloth, probably from some such reason as the dwellers in the Cape of Good Hope call their mountain Table Mountain, and their roads Table Bay.

Here, to our mutual surprise, we found an actual flight of stone steps, which wonderfully assisted our ascent. This singular flight of stairs was, like everything else, volcanic. It had been formed by one of those torrents of stones cast up by the eruptions, and of which the Icelandic name is stinâ. If this singular torrent had not been checked in its descent by the peculiar shape of the flanks of the mountain, it would have swept into the sea, and would have formed new islands. Such as it was, it served us admirably. The abrupt character of the slopes momentarily increased, but these remarkable stone steps, a little less difficult than those of the Egyptian pyramids, were the one simple natural means by which we were enabled to proceed.

About seven in the evening of that day, after having clambered up two thousand of these rough steps, we found ourselves overlooking a kind of spur or projection of the mountain—a sort of buttress upon which the cone-like crater, properly so called, leaned for support.

The ocean lay beneath us at a depth of more than three thousand two hundred feet—a grand and mighty spectacle. We had reached the region of eternal snows. The cold was keen, searching and intense. The wind blew with extraordinary violence. I was utterly exhausted.

My worthy uncle, the Professor, saw clearly that my legs refused further service, and that, in fact, I was utterly exhausted. Despite his hot and feverish impatience, he decided, with a sigh, upon a halt. He called the eider-duck


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 complete effect of the whole, to analyze the parts with them, pointing out in what such or such an author excelled, and where were the blemishes. He believed that he had to do with pupils capable, from their ready sympathy with the intellectual, the refined, the polished, or the noble, of catching the echo of a style, and so reproducing their own thoughts in a somewhat similar manner.

After explaining his plan to them, he awaited their reply. Emily spoke first; and said that she saw no good to be derived from it; and that, by adopting it, they should lose all originality of thought and expression. She would have entered into an argument on the subject, but for this, M. Héger had no time. Charlotte then spoke; she also doubted the success of the plan; but she would follow out M. Héger's advice, because she was bound to obey him while she was his pupil. Before speaking of the results, it may be desirable to give an extract from one of her letters, which shows some of her first impressions of her new life.

"Brussels, 1842 (May?)

"I was twenty-six years old a week or two since; and at this ripe time of life I am a school-girl, and, on the whole, very happy in that capacity. It felt very strange at first to submit to authority instead of exercising it—to obey orders instead of giving them; but I like that state of things. I returned to it with the same avidity that a cow, that has long been kept on dry hay, returns to fresh grass. Don't laugh at my simile. It


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 hunter to his side. That worthy, however, shook his head.

"Ofvanfor," was his sole spoken reply.

"It appears," says my uncle with a woe-begone look, "that we must go higher."

He then turned to Hans, and asked him to give some reason for this decisive response.

"Mistour," replied the guide.

"Ja mistour—yes, the mistour," cried one of the Icelandic guides in a terrified tone.

It was the first time he had spoken.

"What does this mysterious word signify?" I anxiously inquired.

"Look," said my uncle.

I looked down upon the plain below, and I saw a vast, a prodigious volume of pulverized pumice-stone, of sand, of dust, rising to the heavens in the form of a mighty waterspout. It resembled the fearful phenomenon of a similar character known to the travelers in the desert of the great Sahara.

The wind was driving it directly towards that side of Sneffels on which we were perched. This opaque veil standing up between us and the sun projected a deep shadow on the flanks of the mountain. If this sand-spout broke over us, we must all be infallibly destroyed, crushed in its fearful embraces. This extraordinary phenomenon, very common when the wind shakes the glaciers, and sweeps over the arid plains, is in the Icelandic tongue called mistour.

"Hastigt, Hastigt!" cried our guide.

Now I certainly knew nothing of Danish, but I thoroughly understood that his gestures were meant to quicken us. The guide turned rapidly in a direction which would take us to the back of the crater, all the while ascending slightly. We followed rapidly, despite our excessive fatigue.

A quarter of an hour later Hans paused to enable us to look back. The mighty whirlwind of sand was spreading up the slope of the mountain to the very spot where we had proposed to halt. Huge stones were caught up, cast into the air, and thrown about as during an eruption. We were happily a little out of the direction of the wind, and therefore out of reach of danger. But for the precaution and knowledge of our guide, our dislocated bodies, our


text:
I'm "wife"—I've finished that—

 * "Apocalypse" in Poems (1890)
 * "I'm wife; I've finished that" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: I'm "wife"—I've finished that—


text:
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 crushed and broken limbs, would have been cast to the wind, like dust from some unknown meteor.

Hans, however, did not think it prudent to pass the night on the bare side of the cone. We therefore continued our journey in a zigzag direction. The fifteen hundred feet which remained to be accomplished took us at least five hours. The turnings and windings, the no-thoroughfares, the marches and marches, turned that insignificant distance into at least three leagues. I never felt such misery, fatigue and exhaustion in my life. I was ready to faint from hunger and cold. The rarefied air at the same time painfully acted upon my lungs.

At last, when I thought myself at my last gasp, about eleven at night, it being in that region quite dark, we reached the summit of Mount Sneffels! it was in an awful mood of mind, that despite my fatigue, before I descended into the crater which was to shelter us for the night, I paused to behold the sun rise at midnight on the very day of its lowest declension, and enjoyed the spectacle of its ghastly pale rays cast upon the isle which lay sleeping at our feet!

I no longer wondered at people traveling all the way from England to Norway, to behold this magical and wondrous spectacle.

supper was eaten with ease and rapidity, after which everybody did the best he could for himself within the hollow of the crater. The bed was hard, the shelter unsatisfactory, the situation painful—lying in the open air, five thousand feet above the level of the sea! Nevertheless, it has seldom happened to me to sleep so well as I did on that particular night. I did not even dream. So much for the effects of what my uncle called "wholesome fatigue".

Next day, when we awoke under the rays of a bright and glorious sun, we were nearly frozen by the keen air. I left my granite couch and made one of the party to enjoy a view of the magnificent spectacle which developed itself, panorama-like, at our feet.


text:
She rose to His Requirement—dropt

 * "The Wife" in Poems (1890)
 * "She rose to his requirement, dropped" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: She rose to His Requirement—dropt


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 I stood upon the lofty summit of Mount Sneffels' southern peak. Thence I was able to obtain a view of the greater part of the island. The optical delusion, common to all lofty heights, raised the shores of the island, while the central portions appeared depressed. It was by no means too great a flight of fancy to believe that a giant picture was stretched out before me. I could see the deep valleys that crossed each other in every direction. I could see precipices looking like sides of wells, lakes that seemed to be changed into ponds, ponds that looked like puddles, and rivers that were transformed into petty brooks. To my right were glaciers upon glaciers, and multiplied peaks, topped with light clouds of smoke.

The undulation of these infinite numbers of mountains, whose snowy summits make them look as if covered by foam, recalled to my remembrance the surface of a storm-beaten ocean. If I looked towards the west, the ocean lay before me in all its majestic grandeur, a continuation as it were, of these fleecy hill-tops. Where the earth ended and the sea began it was impossible for the eye to distinguish.

I soon felt that strange and mysterious sensation which is awakened in the mind when looking down from lofty hill tops, and now I was able to do so without any feeling of nervousness, having fortunately hardened myself to that kind of sublime contemplation. I wholly forgot who I was, and where I was. I became intoxicated with a sense of lofty sublimity, without thought of the abysses into which my daring was soon about to plunge me. I was presently, however, brought back to the realities of life by the arrival of the Professor and Hans, who joined me upon the lofty summit of the peak.

My uncle, turning in a westerly direction, pointed out to me a light cloud of vapor, a kind of haze, with a faint outline of land rising out of the waters. "Greenland!" said he.

"Greenland?" cried I in reply.

"Yes," continued my uncle, who always when explaining anything spoke as if he were in a Professor's chair; "we are not more than thirty-five leagues distant from that wonderful land. When the great annual break up of the ice takes place, white bears come over to Iceland, carried


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 is natural to me to submit, and very unnatural to command.

"This is a large school, in which there are about forty externes, or day-pupils, and twelve pensionnaires, or boarders. Madame Héger, the head, is a lady of precisely the same cast of mind, degree of cultivation, and quality of intellect as Miss . I think the severe points are a little softened, because she has not been disappointed, and consequently soured. In a word, she is a married instead of a maiden lady. There are three teachers in the school—Mademoiselle Blanche, Mademoiselle Sophie, and Mademoiselle Marie. The two first have no particular character. One is an old maid, and the other will be one. Mademoiselle Marie is talented and original, but of repulsive and arbitrary manners, which have made the whole school, except myself and Emily, her bitter enemies. No less than seven masters attend, to teach the different branches of education—French, Drawing, Music, Singing, Writing, Arithmetic, and German. All in the house are Catholics except ourselves, one other girl, and the gouvernante of Madame's children, an Englishwoman, in rank something between a lady's-maid and a nursery governess. The difference in country and religion makes a broad line of demarcation between us and all the rest. We are completely isolated in the midst of numbers. Yet I think I am never unhappy; my present life is so delightful, so congenial to my own nature, compared to that of a governess. My time, constantly occupied, passes too rapidly. Hitherto both Emily and I have


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 by the floating masses of ice from the north. This, however, is a matter of little consequence. We are now on the summit of the great, the transcendent Sneffels, and here are its two peaks, north and south. Hans will tell you the name by which the people of Iceland call that on which we stand.

My uncle turned to the imperturbable guide, who nodded, and spoke as usual—one word. "Scartaris."

My uncle looked at me with a proud and triumphant glance. "A crater," he said, "you hear?"

I did hear, but I was totally unable to make reply.

The crater of Mount Sneffels represented an inverted cone, the gaping orifice apparently half a mile across; the depth indefinite feet. Conceive what this hole must have been like when full of flame and thunder and lightning. The bottom of the funnel-shaped hollow was about five hundred feet in circumference, by which it will be seen that the slope from the summit to the bottom was very gradual, and we were therefore clearly able to get there without much fatigue or difficulty. Involuntarily, I compared this crater to an enormous loaded cannon; and the comparison completely terrified me.

"To descend into the interior of a cannon," I thought to myself, "when perhaps it is loaded, and will go off at the least shock, is the act of a madman."

But there was no longer any opportunity for me to hesitate. Hans, with a perfectly calm and indifferent air, took his usual post at the head of the adventurous little band. I followed without uttering a syllable. I felt like the lamb led to the slaughter.

In order to render the descent less difficult, Hans took his way down the interior of the cone in rather a zigzag fashion, making, as the sailors say, long tacks to the eastward, followed by equally long ones to the west. It was necessary to walk through the midst of eruptive rocks, some of which, shaken in their balance, went rolling down with thundering clamor to the bottom of the abyss. These continual falls awoke echoes of singular power and effect.

Many portions of the cone consisted of inferior glaciers. Hans, whenever he met with one of these obstacles advanced with a great show of precaution, sounding the soil with his long iron pole in order to discover fissures and layers of


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 deep soft snow. In many doubtful or dangerous places, it became necessary for us to be tied together by a long rope in order that should any one of us be unfortunate enough to slip, he would be supported by his companions. This connecting link was doubtless a prudent precaution, but not by any means unattended with danger.

Nevertheless, despite all the manifold difficulties of the descent, along slopes with which our guide was wholly unacquainted, we made considerable progress without accident. One of our great parcels of rope slipped from one of the Iceland porters, and rushed by a short cut to the bottom of the abyss.

By mid-day we were at the end of our journey. I looked upwards, and saw only the upper orifice of the cone, which served as a circular frame to a very small portion of the sky—a portion which seemed to me singularly beautiful. Should I ever again gaze on that lovely sunlit sky!

The only exception to this extraordinary landscape, was the Peak of Scartaris, which seemed lost in the great void of the heavens.

The bottom of the crater was composed of three separate shafts, through which, during periods of eruption, when Sneffels was in action, the great central furnace sent forth its burning lava and poisonous vapors. Each of these chimneys or shafts gaped open-mouthed in our path. I kept as far away from them as possible, not even venturing to take the faintest peep downwards.

As for the Professor, after a rapid examination of their disposition and characteristics, he became breathless and panting. He ran from one to the other like a delighted school-boy, gesticulating wildly, and uttering incomprehensible and disjointed phrases in all sorts of languages. Hans, the guide, and his humbler companions seated themselves on some piles of lava and looked silently on. They clearly took my uncle for a lunatic; and—waited the result.

Suddenly the Professor uttered a wild, unearthly cry. At first I imagined he had lost his footing, and was falling headlong into one of the yawning gulfs. Nothing of the kind. I saw him, his arms spread out to their widest extent, his legs stretched apart, standing upright before an enormous pedestal, high enough and black enough to bear


text:
Come slowly—Eden!

 * "Apotheosis" in Poems (1890)
 * "Come slowly, Eden!" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Come slowly—Eden!


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 a gigantic statue of Pluto. His attitude and mien were that of a man utterly stupefied. But his stupefaction was speedily changed to the wildest joy. "Harry! Harry! come here!" he cried; "make haste—wonderful—wonderful!"

Unable to understand what he meant, I turned to obey his commands. Neither Hans, nor the other Icelanders moved a step.

"Look!" said the Professor, in something of the manner of the French general, pointing out the pyramids to his army. And fully partaking his stupefaction, if not his joy, I read on the eastern side of the huge block of stone, the same characters, half eaten away by the corrosive action of time, the name, to me a thousand times accursed—

"Arne Saknussemm!" cried my uncle, "now, unbeliever, do you begin to have faith?"

It was totally impossible for me to answer a single word. I went back to my pile of lava, in a state of silent awe. The evidence was unanswerable, overwhelming!

In a few moments, however, my thoughts were far away, back in my German home, with Gretchen and the old cook. What would I have given for one of my cousin's smiles, for one of the ancient domestic's omelettes, and for my own feather bed! How long I remained in this state I know not. All I can say is, that when at last I raised my head from between my hands, there remained at the bottom of the crater only myself, my uncle and Hans. The Icelandic porters had been dismissed and were now descending the exterior slopes of Mount Sneffels, on their way to Stapi. How heartily did I wish myself with them!

Hans slept tranquilly at the foot of a rock in a kind of rill of lava, where he had made himself a rough and ready bed. My uncle was walking about the bottom of the crater like a wild beast in a cage. I had no desire, neither had I the strength, to move from my recumbent position. Taking example by the guide, I gave way to a kind of painful somnolency, during which I seemed both to hear and feel continual heavings and shudderings in the mountain. In this way we passed our first night in the interior of a crater.


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6 SYNOPSIS Baptism of Christ,

Fast and temptation of Christ,

Second Testimony of John,

Another testimony of the same,

The calling of Andrew and Peter,

Calling of Philip and Nathanael,

Wedding of Cana,

First expulsion from the temple of those who bought and sold,

Nicodemus comes to Christ, Fourth testimony of John, Christ discourses with the Samaritan woman, Imprisonment and death of John,

Christ preaches in Galilee,

Cure of the ruler’s son in Cana, Second call of Peter and Andrew,

Call of James and John,

A demoniac is cured in Capharnaum,

The mother-in-law of Peter is cured,

Christ travels through Galilee,

Miraculous draught of fishes, Cleansing of a leper,

Matthew iii. 13–17. Mark i. 9–11. Luke iii. 21–22. Matthew iv. 1–11. Mark i. 12–13. Luke iv. 1–13. John i. 15–28. John i. 29–34. John i. 35–42. John i. 43–51. John ii. 1–13. John ii. 13–25. John iii. 1–21. John iii. 22–36. John iv. 1–42. Matt. xiv. 3–10. Mark vi. 17–29. Luke iii. 19–21. Matt. iv. 12–17. Mark i. 14–15. Luke iv. 14–32. John iv. 43–45. John iv. 46–54. Matt. iv. 18–20. Mark i. 16–18. Matt. iv. 21–22. Mark i. 19. 20. Mark i. 21–28. Luke iv. 31–37. Matt. vii. 14–17. Mark i. 29–34. Luke iv. 38–41. Matt. iv. 23–25. Mark i. 35–39. Luke iv. 42–44. Luke v. 1–11. Mark i. 40–45. Luke v. 12–16.


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 had good health, and therefore we have been able to work well. There is one individual of whom I have not yet spoken—M. Héger, the husband of Madame. He is professor of rhetoric, a man of power as to mind, but very choleric and irritable in temperament. He is very angry with me just at present, because I have written a translation which he chose to stigmatize as 'peu correct.' He did not tell me so, but wrote the word on the margin of my book, and asked, in brief stern phrase, how it happened that my compositions were always better than my translations? adding that the thing seemed to him inexplicable. The fact is, some weeks ago, in a high-flown humour, he forbade me to use either dictionary or grammar in translating the most difficult English compositions into French. This makes the task rather arduous, and compels me every now and then to introduce an English word, which nearly plucks the eyes out of his head when he sees it. Emily and he don't draw well together at all. Emily works like a horse, and she has had great difficulties to contend with—far greater than I have had. Indeed, those who come to a French school for instruction ought previously to have acquired a considerable knowledge of the French language, otherwise they will lose a great deal of time, for the course of instruction is adapted to natives and not to foreigners; and in these large establishments they will not change their ordinary course for one or two strangers. The few private lessons that M. Héger has vouchsafed to give us, are, I suppose, to be considered a great favour; and I can perceive they


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 Next morning, a gray, cloudy, heavy sky hung like a funeral-pall over the summit of the volcanic cone. I did not notice it so much from the obscurity that reigned around us, as from the rage with which my uncle was devoured.

I fully understood the reason, and again a glimpse of hope made my heart leap with joy. I will briefly explain the cause. Of the three openings which yawned beneath our steps, only one could have been followed by the adventurous Saknussemm. According to the words of the learned Icelander, it was only to be known by that one particular mentioned in the cryptograph, that the shadow of Scartaris fell upon it, just touching its mouth in the last days of the month of June. We were, in fact, to consider the pointed peak as the stylus of an immense sun-dial, the shadow of which pointed on one given day, like the inexorable finger of fate, to the yawning chasm which led into the interior of the earth.

Now, as often happens in these regions, should the sun fail to burst through the clouds, no shadow. Consequently, no chance of discovering the right aperture. We had already reached the 25th June. If the kindly heavens would only remain densely clouded for six more days, we should have to put off our voyage of discovery for another year, when certainly there would be one person fewer in the party. I already had sufficient of the mad and monstrous enterprise.

It would be utterly impossible to depict the impotent rage of Professor Hardwigg. The day passed away, and not the faintest outline of a shadow could be seen at the bottom of the crater. Hans the guide never moved from his place. He must have been curious to know what we were about, if indeed he could believe we were about anything. As for my uncle, he never addressed a word to me. He was nursing his wrath to keep it warm! His eyes fixed on the black and foggy atmosphere, his complexion hideous with suppressed passion. Never had his eyes appeared so fierce, his nose so aquiline, his mouth so hard and firm.

On the 26th no change for the better. A mixture of rain and snow fell during the whole day. Hans very quietly built himself a hut of lava into which he retired like Diogenes into his tub. I took a malicious delight in watching


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 the thousand little cascades that flowed down the side of the cone, carrying with them at times a stream of stones into the "vasty deep" below.

My uncle was almost frantic: to be sure it was enough to make even a patient man angry. He had reached to a certain extent the goal of his desires, and yet he was likely to be wrecked in port.

But if the heavens and the elements are capable of causing us much pain and sorrow, there are two sides to a medal. And there was reserved for Professor Hardwigg a brilliant and sudden surprise which was to compensate him for all his sufferings. Next day the sky was still overcast, but on Sunday, the 26th, the last day but one of the month, with a sudden change of wind and a new moon there came a change of weather. The sun poured its beaming rays to the very bottom of the crater.

Each hillock, every rock, every stone, every asperity of the soil had its share of the luminous effulgence, and its shadow fell heavily on the soil. Among others, to his insane delight, the shadow of Scartaris was marked and clear, and moved slowly with the radiant star of day.

My uncle moved with it in a state of mental ecstasy. At twelve o'clock exactly, when the sun had attained its highest altitude for the day, the shadow fell upon the edge of the central pit!

"Here it is," gasped the Professor in an agony of joy, "here it is—we have found it. Forward, my friends, into the Interior of the Earth."

I looked curiously at Hans to see what reply he would make to this terrific announcement. "Forut," said the guide tranquilly.

"Forward it is," answered my uncle, who was now in the seventh heaven of delight.

When we were quite ready, our watches indicated thirteen minutes past one!


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real journey now commenced. Hitherto our courage and determination had overcome all difficulties. We were fatigued at times; and that was all. Now, unknown and fearful dangers were to be encountered.

I had not as yet ventured to take a glimpse down the horrible abyss into which in a few minutes more I was about to plunge. The fatal moment had, however, at last arrived. I had still the option of refusing or accepting a share in this foolish and audacious enterprise. But I was ashamed to show more fear than the eider-duck hunter. Hans seemed to accept the difficulties of the journey so tranquilly, with such calm indifference, with such perfect recklessness of all danger, that I actually blushed to appear less of a man than he! Had I been alone with my uncle, I should certaily have sat down and argued the point fully; but in the presence of the guide I held my tongue. I gave one moment to the thought of my charming cousin, and then I advanced to the mouth of the central shaft.

It measured about a hundred feet in diameter, which made about three hundred in circumference. I leaned over a rock which stood on its edge, and looked down. My hair stood on end, my teeth chattered, my limbs trembled, I seemed utterly to lose my center of gravity, while my head was in a sort of whirl, like that of a drunken man. There is nothing more powerful than this attraction towards an abyss. I was about to fall headlong into the gaping well, when I was drawn back by a firm and powerful hand. It was that of Hans. I had not taken lessons enough at the Frelser's-kirk of Copenhagen in the art of looking down from lofty eminences without blinking!

However, few as the minutes were during which I gazed down this tremendous and even wondrous shaft, I had a sufficient glimpse of it to give me some idea of its physical conformation. Its sides, which were almost as perpendicular as those of a well, presented numerous projections which doubtless would assist our descent.

It was a sort of wild and savage staircase, without bannister or fence. A rope fastened above, near the surface, would certainly support our weight and enable us to reach the bottom, but how, when we had arrived at its utmost


text:
Pink—small—and punctual—

 * "May-Flower" in Poems (1890)
 * "Pink, small, and punctual" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Pink—small—and punctual—


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 have already excited much spite and jealousy in the school.

"You will abuse this letter for being short and dreary, and there are a hundred things which I want to tell you, but I have not time. Brussels is a beautiful city. The Belgians hate the English. Their external morality is more rigid than ours. To lace the stays without a handkerchief on the neck is considered a disgusting piece of indelicacy."

The passage in this letter where M. Héger is represented as prohibiting the use of dictionary or grammar, refers, I imagine, to the time I have mentioned, when he determined to adopt a new method of instruction in the French language, of which they were to catch the spirit and rhythm rather from the ear and the heart, as its noblest accents fell upon them, than by over-careful and anxious study of its grammatical rules. It seems to me a daring experiment on the part of their teacher; but, doubtless, he knew his ground; and that it answered is evident in the composition of some of Charlotte's "dévoirs," written about this time. I am tempted, in illustration of this season of mental culture, to recur to a conversation which I had with M. Héger on the manner in which he formed his pupils' style, and to give a proof of his success, by copying a "dévoir" of Charlotte's, with his remarks upon it.

He told me that one day this summer (when the Brontës had been for about four months receiving instruction from him) he read to them Victor Hugo's


text:
The Murmur of a Bee

 * "Why?" in Poems (1890)
 * "The murmur of a bee" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: The Murmur of a Bee


text:
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french mistakes
There are words misspelled in french: dévoir should be devoir. Stamlou (talk) 19:27, 26 January 2024 (UTC)


text:
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church—

 * "A Service of Song" in Poems (1890)
 * "Some keep the Sabbath going to church" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Some keep the Sabbath going to Church—


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was a celebrated sorcerer, and skilled in magical arts; he lived upon the river Waikato. The inhabitants of that river still have this proverb, "The offspring of Kiki wither shrubs." This proverb had its origin in the circumstance of Kiki being such a magician, that he could not go abroad in the sunshine; for if his shadow fell upon anyplace not protected from his magic, it at once became tapu, and all the plants there withered.

This Kiki was thoroughly skilled in the practice of sorcery. If any parties coming up the river called at his village in their canoes as they paddled by, he still remained quietly at home, and never troubled himself to come out, but just drew back the sliding door of his house, so that it might stand open, and the strangers stiffened and died; or even as canoes came paddling down from the upper parts of the river, he drew back the sliding wooden shutter to the win-

N 3


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 BOOK II. PROLOGUE.

THE composition of this Masnavi has been delayed for a season. ¹

Time is needed for blood to become milk.

Till thy fortune comes forth as a new-born babe,

Blood becomes not milk, sweet and pleasant to the mind.

When that light of God, Husámu-'d-Din

Turned his course down from the summit of heaven,-

While he had ascended to sublimest verities,

In the absence of his spring the buds blossomed not,-

But when out of that sea he came to shore,

The lute of the poesy of the Masnavi sounded again.

This Masnavi, which is the polisher of spirits,-

Its recommencement occurred on the day of "Opening."

The commencement date of this precious work

Was the year six hundred and sixty-two of the Flight.

The Bulbul started on this date and became a hawk;

Yea, a hawk to hunt out these mysteries.

May the wrist of the King be the resting-place of this hawk.

And may this door be open to the people for ever! 1 The delay was caused by the grief of Husam for the death of his wife.

title: Page:Masnavi I Ma'navi.pdf/109


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 dow of his house, and the crews on board of them were sure to die.

At length, the fame of this sorcerer spread exceedingly, and resounded through every tribe, until Tamure, a chief who dwelt at Kawhia, heard with others, reports of the magical powers of Kiki, for his fame extended over the whole country. At length Tamure thought he would go and contend in the arts of sorcery with Kiki, that it might be seen which of them was most skilled in magic; and he arranged in his own mind a fortunate season for his visit.

When this time came, he selected two of his people as his companions, and he took his young daughter with him also; and they all crossed over the mountain range from Kawhia, and came down upon the river Waipa, which runs into the Waikato, and embarking there in a canoe, paddled down the river towards the village of Kiki; and they managed so well, that before they were seen by anybody, they had arrived at the landing-place. Tamure was not only skilled in magic, but he was also a very cautious man; so whilst they were still afloat upon the river, he repeated an incantation of the kind called "Mata-tawhito," to preserve him safe from all arts of sorcery; and he repeated other incantations, to ward off spells, to protect him from magic, to collect good genii round


text:
Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair!

 * "Summer's Armies" in Poems (1890)
 * "Some rainbow coming from the fair!" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair!


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 him, to keep off evil spirits, and to shield him from demons; when these preparations were all finished, they landed, and drew up their canoe on the beach, at the landing-place of Kiki.

As soon as they had landed, the old sorcerer called out to them that they were welcome to his village, and invited them to come up to it; so they went up to the village: and when they reached the square in the centre, they seated themselves upon the ground; and some of Kiki's people kindled fire in an enchanted oven, and began to cook food in it for the strangers. Kiki sat in his house, and Tamure on the ground just outside the entrance to it, and he there availed himself of this opportunity to repeat incantations over the threshold of the house, so that Kiki might be enchanted as he stepped over it to come out. When the food in the enchanted oven was cooked, they pulled off the coverings, and spread it out upon clean mats. The old sorcerer now made his appearance out of his house, and he invited Tamure to come and eat food with him; but the food was all enchanted, and his object in asking Tamure to eat with him was, that the enchanted food might kill him; therefore Tamure said that his young daughter was very hungry, and would eat of the food offered to them; he in the meantime kept on repeating incantations of the kind called


text:
The Grass so little has to do—

 * "The Grass" in Poems (1890)
 * "The grass so little has to do" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: The Grass so little has to do—


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 Mata-tawhito, Whakangungu, and Parepare protections against enchanted food, and as she ate she also continued to repeat them; even when she stretched out her hand to take a sweet potato, or any other food, she dropped the greater part of it at her feet, and hid it under her clothes, and then only ate a little bit. After she had done, the old sorcerer, Kiki, kept waiting for Tamure to begin to eat also of the enchanted food, that he might soon die. Kiki having gone into his house again, Tamure still sat on the ground outside the door, and as he had enchanted the threshold of the house, he now repeated incantations which might render the door enchanted also, so that Kiki might be certain not to escape when he passed out of it By this time Tamure's daughter had quite finished her meal, but neither her father nor either of his people had partaken of the enchanted food.

Tamure now ordered his people to launch his canoe, and they paddled away, and a little time after they had left the village, Kiki became unwell; in the meanwhile, Tamure and his people were paddling homewards in all haste, and as they passed a village where there were a good many people on the river's bank, Tamure stopped, and said to them, "If you should see any canoe pulling after us, and the people in the canoe ask


text:
A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree—

 * "Summer Shower" in Poems (1890)
 * "A drop fell on the apple tree" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree—


text:
A something in a summer's Day

 * "Psalm of the Day" in Poems (1890)
 * "A something in a summer's day" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: A something in a summer's Day


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 you, have you seen a canoe pass up the river, would you be good enough to say, 'Yes, a canoe has passed by here?' and then if they ask you, 'How far has it got?' would you be good enough to say, 'Oh, by this time it has got very far up the river? and having thus said to the people of that village, Tamure paddled away again in his canoe with all haste.

Some time after Tamure's party had left the village of Kiki, the old sorcerer became very ill indeed, and his people then knew that this had been brought about by the magical arts of Tamure, and they sprang into a canoe to follow after him, and pulled up the river as hard as they could; and when they reached the village where the people were on the river's bank, they called out and asked them, "How far has the canoe reached, which passed up the river?" and the villagers answered, "Oh, that canoe must have got very far up the river by this time." The people in the canoe that was pursuing Tamure, upon hearing this, returned again to their own village, and Kiki died from the incantations of Tamure.

Some of Kiki's descendants are still living—one of them, named Mokahi, recently died at Tauranga-a-Ruru, but Te Maioha is still living on the river Waipa. Yes, some of the descendants of Kiki, whose shadow withered trees, are still living.


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 He was indeed a great sorcerer: he overcame every other sorcerer until he met Tamure, but he was vanquished by him, and had to bend the knee before him.

Tamure has also some descendants living, amongst whom are Mahu and Kiake of the Ngati-Mariu tribe; these men are also skilled in magic: if a father skilled in magic died, he left his incantations to his children; so that if a man was skilled in sorcery, it was known that his children would have a good knowledge of the same arts, as they were certain to have derived it from their parent.


text:
This—is the land—the Sunset washes—

 * "The Sea of Sunset" in Poems (1890)
 * "This is the land the sunset washes" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: This—is the land—the Sunset washes—


text:
There is a flower that Bees prefer—

 * "Purple Clover" in Poems (1890)
 * "There is a flower that bees prefer" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: There is a flower that Bees prefer—


text:
Like Trains of Cars on Tracks of Plush

 * "The Bee" in Poems (1890)
 * "Like trains of cars on tracks of plush" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Like Trains of Cars on Tracks of Plush


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 Another very remarkable tree (Plate 26) is the one at Killerton, in Devonshire, which I am sorry to hear has suffered severely in the gale of September 1903. This tree must be one of the oldest now living, as Sir C.T.D. Acland tells me that in a picture of his house, taken early in the last century, it seems nearly as tall as at present, and it is mentioned by Loudon as being 63 feet high in 1843. When I measured it in 1902 it was 80 by 15 feet, with a bole about 18 feet long, and must have contained nearly 300 feet of timber.

A very fine tulip tree, on heavier, damper soil at Strathfieldsaye, Berkshire, the seat of the Duke of Wellington, measures 105 feet by 12; and though not such a well-shaped tree as the one at Leonardslee is of the same type.

The tree which Loudon refers to as being the tallest known to him at Syon, was, in 1844, 76 feet high, at about 76 years of age, but this is now dead, as is the old tree at Fulham Palace mentioned by Loudon, which he estimated at 150 years of age.

At Bury House, Lower Edmonton, there is a magnificent tree which John W. Ford, Esq., informs us is thoroughly sound and in perfect health. He estimates it to be 70 to 75 feet in height, the girth 5 feet from the ground being 17 feet 4 inches. The bole at 13 feet divides into five limbs, of which the biggest are 5 feet round. The soil is splendid, being brick earth.

At Deepdene, Dorking, there is a fine tree on the lawn, which in February 1904 was 83 feet high by 14 feet in girth.

At Petworth, the seat of Lord Leconfield, there is a curious old tree which has an immense burry trunk 17 feet in girth.

A tree was recorded at Longleat in 1877 as being 106 feet high and 10 feet in girth, but this, as I learn from the Marquess of Bath, is now dead, though one or two other large specimens remain.

There is a very fine tree at Margam, in Pembrokeshire, which, as measured in 1904, is 92 feet high by 13 feet 6 inches at 6 feet from the ground, with a spread of branches 57 feet in diameter.

An immense tree at Esher Place, Surrey, is mentioned by Mr. Goldring as having a girth of 22 feet.

At Barton, Suffolk, two trees were planted in 1832. They first flowered in 1843. In the year following the severe winter of 1860 no flowers were produced, but the foliage was as good as usual. In 1904 these two trees had both attained the same height—79 feet; one having a girth of 7 feet 2 inches at 5 feet above the ground; the other divided into two stems at a point 2 feet from the ground where the girth was 10 feet 4 inches. The soil at Barton is good, consisting of 2 or 3 feet of loam resting on boulder clay.

At Ashby St. Ledgers, Rugby, the seat of the Hon. Ivor Guest, there is a good tree which measured 80 feet in height by 16½ feet in girth in 1900. This tree breaks into three stems at a little above 4 feet from the ground, and the girth is taken below this point.

At Hampton Court, Herefordshire, a tree on the lawn in 1879 was 80 feet


text:
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 In Ireland large tulip trees are rare. There are two good specimens at Fota, which measured in 1903, one 87 feet high by 11 feet 7 inches in girth, the other 57 feet by 14 feet 7 inches.

In France the tulip tree, favoured by warmer summers, seems to thrive better, and attains a larger size than in England. Mouillefert speaks of a tree at the Chateau de Frêne, near Chaulnes, in the department of Somme, which in 1899 was 38 metres in height by 5 in circumference. He also mentions having seen in 1902 at the Chateau de Cheverny, near Blois, tulip trees planted along the banks of a canal, which at 50–60 years of age measured 31 metres in height and 2 metres in girth at 5 feet from the ground, whilst plane trees of the same age close to them were only 24 metres high and 1.65 in girth.

He considers that in a suitable soil and situation such as the valleys in a granitic mountain range, or on damp, rich soils, in fact in such places as the ash, the poplar, and the plane thrive, this tree might be grown as a forest tree to produce valuable timber, or as copse wood, cut at 18 or 20 years of growth for turnery purposes.

Considering, however, the cost of raising this tree in the nursery, and its liability to suffer from autumn frost in a young state, I do not think the tree can be considered likely to become a forest tree in England, except possibly in a few choice situations in the south and south-west.

The timber of the tulip tree is now very much used in North America for many purposes, and is also largely imported to England under the name of white-wood, canary-wood, and yellow poplar. Stevenson says of it, "Though classed among the light woods it is much heavier than that of the common poplar, its grain is equally fine but more compact, and the wood is easily wrought and polished. It is found strong and stiff enough for uses that require great solidity. The heart-wood, when separated from the sap and perfectly seasoned, long resists the influence of the air, and is said to be rarely attacked by insects. It is imported in the form of waney logs and in sawn planks of very fine dimensions, in which state it commands a price fully equal to that of the first quality of Quebec yellow pine.

Hough speaks of it as "light, rather strong, with close straight grain, compact, easily worked, and yielding a satiny finish. Sap-wood nearly white, heart-wood of a light lemon-yellow colour, or sometimes of a light brownish tint—whence its two seemingly contradictory names, white and yellow poplar, the former referring to the sap-wood, the latter to the heart."

Sargent says it is light and soft, brittle and not strong, is readily worked, and does not easily split or shrink. The heart-wood is light yellow or brown, weighing when absolutely dry 26-36 lbs. to the cubic foot. Large canoes were formerly made from it by the Indians, and it is now extensively used in construction, for the

Rh


text:
Presentiment—is that long Shadow—on the Lawn—

 * "Presentiment is that long shadow" in Poems (1890)
 * "Presentment is that long shadow on the lawn" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)


text:
Page:AModestEnquiryIntoTheNatureOfWitchcraft.djvu/1

 A Modest Enquiry Into the Nature of Witchcraft,

AND

How Persons Guilty of that Crime may be Convicted : And the means used for their Discovery Discussed, both Negatively and Affirmatively according to SCRIPTURE and EXPERIENCE.

By John Hale, Pastor of The Church of Christ in Beverley Anno Domini 1697.

When they say unto you, seek unto them that have Familiar Spirits and unto Wizzards, that peep, &c. To the Law and to the Testimony; if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them, Isaiah VIII. 19, 20.

That which I ••e not teach thou me, Job 34 32.

BOSTON in N. E. Printed by ''B. Green, and J. Allen, for Benjamin Eliot'' under the Town House. 1702


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genus includes the spruce-firs, which in England, following the practice of Don and Loudon, are still often called Abies. However, all botanists in England, on the Continent, and in America apply the term Picea to the spruces, and Abies to the silver firs.

Tall evergreen trees belonging to the tribe Abietinese of the order Coniferæ, with shoots of only one kind, bearing in spiral order peg-like projections ("pulvini"), from which the leaves arise singly. The needle-like leaves are either tetragonal or flattened in section, and persist for many years, rendering the foliage very dense. At the ends of the leading shoots there is a terminal bud, with 2-5 side buds directly under it; the buds are dry and not resinous.

Flowers monœcious. Male flowers solitary in the axils of the uppermost leaves, ovoid or cylindric, short-stalked, surrounded at the base with scale-like bracts, composed of numerous stamens spirally arranged, each with 2 pollen-sacs opening longitudinally, and a connective prolonged into a toothed crest. Pollen grains with 2 air-sacs. Female flowers solitary, terminal, erect, stalked, with a few empty scales at the base; composed of 2 series of scales, the bracts small and membranous, and the ovular scales bearing at their base 2 inverted ovules. Cones: generally becoming pendulous, but in certain species remaining erect or spreading; cylindrical or ovoid, with the bracts minute and concealed, and the scales enlarged and firm in texture, with entire or denticulate margins, and bearing on their inner surface 2 winged seeds. The cones are ripe in the first season, and after dispersal of the seed (the scales persisting on the axis) fall off in the following winter, or remain in some species much longer on the tree. The cotyledons are 5–15 in number, 3-sided, and serrate in margin.

Species of spruce occur in Europe, Asia Minor, the Caucasus, Siberia, Mongolia, China, Japan, the Himalayas, and in North America. The genus is marked out into two natural sections by the character of the leaves. These are defined by Willkomm as follows:—


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 :4. Picea morindoides. Native country unknown.
 * Buds and scales ovate-obtuse. Leaves linear, straight, slender, acuminate, terminating in a callous sharp tip, somewhat flattened and distinctly keeled on both sides, marked with two white lines on the upper surface, and dark bluish green on the under surface. Leaves radially spreading on the branchlets.

II. Young shoots pubescent with short hairs.

 * 5. Picea Omorika. Servia and Bosnia.
 * Pubescence brown. Buds ovate, conical, with outer scales ending in long subulate points. Leaves flattened but thick, obtuse or ending in a short point,

 * 6. Picea Breweriana. Oregon, California.
 * Pubescence grey. Buds ovoid, with outer scales ending in long points. Leaves scarcely flattened, but convex above and below, keeled on dorsal surface, with midrib prominent on ventral green surface, and ending in a short point. The leaves spread out in all directions on the shoot.


text:
It makes no difference abroad—

 * "Two Worlds" in Poems (1890)
 * "It makes no difference abroad" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: It makes no difference abroad—


text:
The Mountain sat upon the Plain

 * "The Mountain" in Poems (1890)
 * "The mountain sat upon the plain" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: The Mountain sat upon the Plain


text:
I'll tell you how the Sun rose—

 * "A Day" in Poems (1890)
 * "I'll tell you how the sun rose" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: I'll tell you how the Sun rose—


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The Servian spruce was first made known to science by Pančic, who discovered it in south-western Servia, near the village of Zaovina, on 1st August 1875. Its area is a small one, occupying about 20 kilometres long by 15 kilometres wide on both sides of the Drina valley, the boundary between Servia and Bosnia. Here it occurs on limestone rocks at altitudes varying from 2700 to 5300 feet. It grows in small groves in the wetter places in the ravines, but it does not there reach such a height as it attains in the rockier parts of the mountains, where it forms part of the mixed forest of Austrian and common pines, common spruce, beech, and sycamore. Pure woods of Omorika occur at higher elevations, between 4700 and 5300 feet, where sub-alpine plants accompany it. Wettstein gives the following as the composition of the characteristic Omorika woods:—

 * Dominant Trees.—Picea Omorika, Pinus sylvestris, Carpinus duinensis, Picea excelsa, Fagus sylvatica, Populus tremula, Abies pectinata, Ostrya carpinifolia, Salix sp., Pinus austriaca.
 * Underwood.—Corylus avellana, Cotinus coggygria, Spiræa cana, with Rhamnus fallax and Lonicera alpigena at high altitudes.
 * Ground-herbage.—Aspidium Filix-mas, lobatum, and angulare.

Wettstein says than an Omorika forest has a peculiar and gloomy aspect, the slender stems with their short branches and columnar or spindle-shaped crowns looking quite different from any other type of European forest. In mixed forests, the straight single stems, arising out of the general mass of the other trees, are equally peculiar.

Omorika seedlings and young trees are only found in exposed rocky situations, and in the bottoms of wet shaded ravines. The tree in the wild state is strictly confined to limestone soil, and never grows on the slate formation which is found in parts of the Drina valley, yet when cultivated, it does very well, at least in youth, on soils which are not calcareous.

The largest tree recorded is one felled by Pančic, which measured 42.2 metres in height, and 0.385 metres in diameter. It showed 137 rings, and the width of the rings gradually diminished from 0.28 cm. in the 3rd decade to 0.04 cm. in the 14th decade. Pančic says that the tree has an inclination to grow with a spiral stem, and that it loses its branches up to about half its height, the largest of the branches being only about 2 metres in length. The cones are borne, according to him, upright on the topmost branches only, but elsewhere they hang down with their tips directed slightly upwards.

Pančic, in his first account of the tree, reports that he had heard on good authority of its occurrence in the mountains of Montenegro; it has since been


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 which I brought the smallest home in a tin box alive, and planted the larger ones in the forester's garden at Han Semec. Those which I brought home have established themselves slowly, but a quantity of seed received in the autumn germinated well in boxes, and in November 1905 was much larger than common spruce of the same age. They were quite uninjured by the severe frost of May 21, 1905, which injured the common spruce very severely, and on my limy soil are growing faster and more vigorously than any other species of Picea.

The tree appears to have been first distributed by Messrs. Fröbel of Zurich about 1884, and has been found quite hardy in England, as might be expected from the climate of its native country.

The finest specimen I know of in England is in the garden of W.H. Griffiths, Esq., at Campden, Gloucestershire, where it was bearing a good crop of cones near the summit in August 1905, and measured about 25 feet in height; this seems to show that the tree prefers limestone. At Kew there are three fine trees which were raised from seed obtained from Belgrade in 1889. These trees are now (1905) 13 inches in girth at 5 feet from the ground, and the tallest one is 23 feet high, making a strong, vigorous leading shoot, and assuming the very narrow pyramidal form which is so remarkable in the wild trees. The other two are 18 and 20 feet in height.

At Tortworth Court it has attained about 15 feet in height, and produced cones containing in the year 1902 apparently good seed; but Lord Ducie tells me that no plants raised from them can now be found. Though the tree is a very ornamental one I do not expect it can have any value as a forest tree in Great Britain, its timber having, so far as known, no special use. Judging from the soil and climate of its native country it should succeed in the Highlands of Scotland, especially on limestone soil, as well as, or better than in England, and as seedlings can now be procured in small numbers it will no doubt be planted by all lovers of coniferæ. Rh


text:
Of all the Sounds despatched abroad

 * "The Wind" in Poems (1890)
 * "Of all the sounds despatched abroad" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Of all the Sounds despatched abroad


text:
Apparently with no surprise

 * "Death and Life" in Poems (1890)
 * "Apparently with no surprise" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Apparently with no surprise


text:
These are the days when Birds come back—

 * "Indian Summer" in Poems (1890)
 * "These are the days when birds come back" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)


text:
The morns are meeker than they were—

 * "Autumn" in Poems (1890)
 * "The morns are meeker than they were" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: The morns are meeker than they were—


text:
The Sky is low—the Clouds are mean

 * "Beclouded" in Poems (1890)
 * "The sky is low, the clouds are mean" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: The Sky is low—the Clouds are mean


text: Page:The Remains of Hesiod the Ascraean, including the Shield of Hercules - Elton (1815).djvu/98


text:
I think the Hemlock likes to stand

 * "The Hemlock" in Poems (1890)
 * "I think the hemlock likes to stand" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: I think the Hemlock likes to stand


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Preface


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Documents of 1593


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/The second embassy to Japan


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Two letters to Felipe II


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Memorandum of troops required in the Philippines


text:
Because I could not stop for Death—

 * "The Chariot" in Poems (1890)
 * "Because I could not stop for Death" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Because I could not stop for Death—


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Letter to the king of Camboja


text:
Page:The Remains of Hesiod the Ascraean, including the Shield of Hercules - Elton (1815).djvu/179

THE proem is a rhapsody in honour of the Muses. It opens with a description of their solemn dances on mount Helicon, and of the hymns which they sing during their nightly visitation of earth. The poet then relates their appearance to himself, and his consequent inspiration; describes their employments in heaven; their birth and dignity; their influence on kings or magistrates, minstrels and bards; and finishes with invoking their assistance and proposing his subject. The, or origin of nature, then commences, and blends into the , or generation of gods, which is continued through the whole poem, and concludes with the race of demi-gods, or those born from the loves of goddesses and mortals. The following legendary traditions are interwoven episodically with the main subject. I. The imprisonment of his children by or  in a subterranean cave; and the consequent conspiracy of  and, or. II. The concealment of the infant. III. The impiety and punishment of Prometheus. IV. The creation of, or. V. The war of the and. VI. The combat of with the giant.


text: Page:The Complaint, or Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality, Edward Young, (1755).djvu/72


text:
Page:Horrid Mysteries Volume 3.djvu/25

 own plans by comparing and uniting their ideas with mine. I was all the day long on horseback, or running from one part of the estate to the other, to give directions to the workmen. I never indulged myself with reading before all the labourers had finished their daily task, and my accounts were settled; and after supper, which received an additional relish from the fatigues of the day, I continued my memoirs till it was time to go to rest, when I went to bed highly satisfied with myself. The writing down of my memoirs was, from that time, continued with so much assiduity, that the manuscript was finished in less than a month after the Count's departure. I afterwards corrected it in many places, and gave it him on his return.

I was always very fond of gardening; and although my friend had an excellent taste in arranging the whole, yet he had too little patience to dedicate much time to a proper survey and regulation of the

title: Page:Horrid Mysteries Volume 3.djvu/25


text: Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/104


text:
At last, to be identified!

 * "Resurgam" in Poems (1890)
 * "At last to be identified!" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: At last, to be identified!


text:
Delayed till she had ceased to know—

 * "Too late" in Poems (1890)
 * "Delayed till she had ceased to know" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Delayed till she had ceased to know—


text:
Exultation is the going

 * "Setting Sail" in Poems (1890)
 * "Exultation is the going" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: Exultation is the going


text:
God permits industrious Angels—

 * "Playmates" in Poems (1890)
 * "God permits industrious angels" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)

title: God permits industrious Angels—


text:
How many times these low feet staggered—

 * "Troubled about many things" in Poems (1890)
 * "How many times these low feet staggered" in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924)


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Page:Weird Tales Volume 4 Number 2 (1924-05-07).djvu/81

 The eyes of Payne and Worthington met. Subconsciously each had begun to entertain some such weird belief. The entire land reeked with mysticism. Everywhere the occult was apparent. Though good, hard common sense ridiculed the theory of the supernatural as a factor in the deaths of the six men, the fact remained that they were all dead from an unexplainable cause.

They had died from no known disease. There had been no abrasions, not the tiniest pin prick. But they were dead! Something had killed them!

In a row, out there beneath the blossoms of the monkey-bread trees, were five graves. Before the sun went down Arnold would be filling the sixth.

Who would be next? Who wrould occupy the seventh grave?

Payne shook off the incubus of fear that gripped him and looked toward the spot where he had last seen Nanah's bright turban. The place was vacant! The young Hindoo was gone!

Dean, nerves on edge, cried out, pointing toward a banyan grove: "There he goes—the son of a dog!"

In the scramble that followed, in which Indians joined but to circumvent the whites, the Hindoo, Nanah, made good his escape.

When all hope of capturing him was gone, the men returned to camp. Upon one thing they were all agreed. The Hindoo had used black magic. And, also, they all felt the rest were doomed to go the same way unless Nanah was caught and summarily dealt with.

Worthington, head bent, sat and smoked innumerable pipes of strong tobacco. When he spoke his companions listened intently.

"I am going to the Temple of Indra," he began. "I am going to ask the monk, the surgeon, you know to come over and take a look at poor old Arnold. If he is the man they say he is I believe he'll be able to tell us how they've passed out."

He paused and tamped more tobacco into his pipe.

"I do not believe these deaths have occurred naturally. I've seen lots of dead men but—boys, what makes that purple ring about the mouth?"

He sprang up and paced excitedly about.

Dean, eyes filled with dread, took up the question.

"Aye," he said huskily, "what makes it? No common death leaves a mark like that. There's black magic back of all this."

He sank again into moody silence, shaking fingers describing a circle about his lips.

"Purple," he murmured. "Purple death!"

Payne and his comrades exchanged glances. It was patent that Dean was wavering on the brink of a collapse, hovering above the narrow line which separates the sane from the insane.

Worthington, shoving his own dread to the back of his mind, spoke almost cheerfully.

"Come on, Dean, let's walk over to the temple. I've a hunch the priests of Indra will be able to put their finger on the trouble."

Dean, still running a stodgy finger around his lips, arose and followed Worthington.

Three hours later they returned, accompanied by the surgeon-priest. On the way back Worthington had given the Hindoo all the known facts in the mysterious series of deaths.

When the camp was reached the priest entered Arnold's tent, paused beside the cot and stood looking intently at the corpse.

Payne, to whom the waiting had been soul-sapping, spoke.

"What do you think of this, taken in connection with the five other deaths?"

The turbaned devotee of Indra turned, and for a fleeting instant Payne almost cowered beneath the look in the gleaming eyes.

"Think?" he said softly, "What is there to think? Death comes to all alike. Perhaps not in the same manner. But it comes. And there are many things much worse than death. To the good—Sworga."

He lifted his eyes rapturously. After a short pause he resumed.

"This man, no doubt, suffered terribly. I am quite certain he did."

He smiled and Payne could have sworn he detected a diabolically exultant expression on the brown face.

"But he did not die from disease. He, from all indications, died from—fright!"

The eyes, which Payne had thought malicious, were melting with sympathy. The white man felt a revulsion of feeling as he gazed upon the kindly face.

"It was the uncertain light," he mused, "and my nerves. I must get a better grip on myself."

The Indian again spoke.

"There are no signs of disease."

He ran his long, taper fingers over the body.

"No abrasions, no contusions, no fractured bones."

With a shake of the head he stepped back.

"I could perform an autopsy. But it would tell you nothing. Nothing that I cannot from the signs here tell. Fear—fear alone—killed your friend."

"Oh, but see here!" expostulated Hunt, "that is preposterous! All six of the men who' have passed out were—men. There was not one weakling, not one coward, among the whole lot. For the most part they were ex-service men. Men who never turned a hair at such little pleasure parties as St. Mihiel or Chateau-Thierry. Men who have roughed it all their lives. No sissies nor perfumed dandies in the bunch. Men that would have fought their weight in wild cats—"

He broke off and cast a puzzled, miserable look about.

"Hunt's right," said Payne. "Those boys weren't the scarey stripe. I, like Dean, think there's something mighty rotten about the whole business. And I think that damned black-skinned Nanah's at the bottom of it. Get him and fill his black hide full of lead and the rest of us will be able to get out of this hole alive."

For Payne, usually dubbed "The Silent," this was a long speech.

"It may be," acquiesced the priest, "Nanah's father was a sorcerer."

His eyes held a rapt expression. The twisted thing upon the cot seemed to have lost interest for him. His mind, plainly, was elsewhere. Some scene, conjured up from the past, gripped him.

Worthington jerked impatiently about.

"See here," he demanded, "can't you, if you are as learned as they claim, tell us just what caused the boys' deaths? It's idiotic to suggest anything frightful enough to scare six husky, daredevil rounders to death. I believe it's just what Dean says. Some sort of hoodoo work. And I believe you, as an Indian priest, are hep to the whole thing!"

The priest's face went livid, but his self control was admirable. He bowed profoundly, smiled graciously and turned to Payne.

"I can do neither the living nor the dead any service by remaining. My watch at the sacred shrine of Indra commences with the sunset. Therefore, I must be on my way."

Payne inclined his head.

"We had hoped you could help us in our trouble," he said, quietly. "Anyway, we thank you for coming. Let me offer you refreshments before you begin your return journey."

The priest stiffened and his face became convulsed with passion.


text:
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ONE of his acquaintances would have had the face to call Mr. James O'Hara a dreamer. In Zachary Taylor's day that was as much a term of reproach as it is today; as it was in the time of Joseph!

He was just twenty-four when he elected, after due conference and counsel had been taken, to leave the paternal home in Newark, New Jersey; for seeking one's fortune was in the air even seven years before the California gold strike began to strew on the transcontinental routes the long lines of bleaching bones which have been there ever since.

Unlike most, Mr. O'Hara did not go West. Instead, he went into Connecticut, which was a prudent decision, however little it might promise adventure. Just then, in Connecticut there were opportunities for a skilful land-surveyor and engineer without the necessity of braving the wilderness with a pair of derringers.

He traveled from Peck Slip by the Hartford packet, and early the next morning up on the forward deck, with swirling mist dissipating itself in curling wisps as it faded into the mellow crispness of a July morning, the soft greenery of the gentle hills above the Narrows Gorge, just below Middletown, caught his fancy, and it was at Middletown instead of Hartford that he disembarked, among the fertile farms of that good bottomland. He had no intention, though, of delving into the land for a living. His work lay on the surface, measuring rods, perches and poles for other people.

Mr. O'Hara obtained a small house at a bargain on High Street near the Wesleyan College, and shortly, on the strength of his gilt-edged recommendations, steady employment on the new Central Vermont Railway east of the river, a solid, permanent, and highly-paid piece of work after his own heart.

For his household he secured the services of Abel and Judy, once tobacco-field slaves, and Judy cooked, while old Abel pitted his everlasting "miseries" against serving Mr. O'Hara's meals when he was at home, and toting the fireplace logs when advancing autumn claimed its toll of firewood.

's professional duties took so much of his time that he had had little time for social intercourse with the Middletown gentry,


text:
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 teen feet high. The forest at this point consisted of a pure stand of pine, mostly longleaf, with some loblolly admixture, which was a great piece of luck for us, as this pine is highly resinous.

Our preparations were now all made; the wind only was wanting. We made a number of porches and got everything in readiness. Then, while waiting for the weather to change, tried our luck with the blue clay once more, but with no success.

Four days passed. Then one night I was awakened by feeling a strong breeze from the northwest blowing over me. Quickly rousing the Doctor we sat up and listened.

"It's rising," I said.

"Yes, it's rising, but we're going to have rain. We haven't a minute to lose."

Hurrying down to the raft we paddled across.

When we got back to the island our landing was as bright as day in the light of that enormous fire, which, fanned by the rising wind, was roaring above the tops of the nearest trees.

"Let's go up to the highest point of the island," I suggested, "so that we can follow the course the fire takes with our field glasses."

The conflagration was now well within the pine stand, and was already beginning to spread fanwise; momentarily the wind increased, driving clouds of sparks and dense clouds of smoke high into the air. We watched it fascinated; our lives hung upon the result.

I handed the glasses to the Doctor. "The fire has reached the mixed forest. Will the deciduous trees burn?"

The Doctor pointed to the East. "Look, Gerald, the dawn."

"I feel a drop of rain," I said.

Overhead heavy gray rain clouds were tearing across the sky.

"Let's cross," suggested the Doctor.

"No use," I replied. "We'll have to wait until tomorrow morning."

Late in the afternoon we crossed to have a look at things. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the wind had dropped to gusty breeze. We made our way into the charred forest for a couple of hundred yards. Nothing molested us; apparently our way lay open.

The next morning we made an early start, for the weather had cleared and a bright sun was shining. We followed the path of the fire all morning until we reached the edge of the green morass where Tom had disappeared. Here the fire had burned itself out, but its purpose had been accomplished. We were safe.

The object of the expedition from an official point of view had been achieved, but at a terrible cost. Poor Tom had paid with his life, and to us the price seemed far too high. It is true that no trace of the last of the murderers, Blake, had been found, but we had had sufficient proof of the impossibility of escaping from the island in any other way than that which we had taken.

He had tried to pass the forest and had—failed.

N the parish of Severin in Paris, there lived an individual, who exteriorly was of the most regular conduct, and enjoyed the reputation of loving virtue, and delighted in good: assiduous to every exercise of religion, he seemed to follow its maxims with exemplary fervour. The clergy and the inhabitants of the parish were edified by his behaviour, he was looked up to as a paragon of the piety, and named the holy man. He was far from being what he appeared. Under the veil of devotion he concealed the most atrocious and depraved soul. When out of church, his sole occupation was to inveigle poor young girls into his house, and promise to put them apprentices with honest people. But far from fulfilling such respectable engagements, the wretch sold the unhappy victims, and delivered them up to the most shameful prostitution. One of the unhappy girls, who for three days was struggling for her virtue, had courage enough, not only to resist, but to form the praise-worthy resolution of making the suborner known to the police. She found a bit of paper in her place of confinement, and with her blood traced the detail of her misfortunes on it, and then threw it out of the window, after having directed it to the rector of the parish. Luckily it was found by a gentleman who brought it to the priest, and told him where he had picked it up. The priest went to the attorney-general, and made him acquainted with the subject of the note he had received. The attorney-general said, he had for a long time been searching, but in vain, for a wretch in that predicament: he assured the ecclesiastic that he would, without loss of time, bring the villain to condign punishment: he accordingly wrote to him in the following terms: "Being informed that your charity is become proverbial in the parish you live in, I wish you could grant me half an hour's conversation at my hotel, I have something important to communicate to you, and that you may favour me sooner with your company, I do not hesitate to tell you that it has reference to some pious designs." The man full of confidence, flies to the attorney-general, who received him with the most apparent cordiality, and told him that he had some thoughts of proposing to his Majesty the creation of a new office, and that he destined him for it, that the title of, "Father of the Poor," would perfectly agree with his virtuous conduct. In the meantime a commissary and four agents of the police were rummaging his house. They there found twelve young girls in the greatest misery, most of whom had already sacrificed their virtue. They reported the whole affair to the attorney-general, who had the hypocritical villain arrested and conducted to prison, where he was destined to pass the remainder of his days. The young girls were taken care of by the parish.


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Documents of 1594


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/List of Philippine villages reduced by the Spaniards


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Letter to king of Canboja


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Investigation of the hospital


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Report concerning the Filipinas Islands


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Decree for despatch of missionaries


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Reply to the Japanese emperor's letter


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Three letters to Felipe II


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Documents of 1595


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Letter to Felipe II (Pedro Gonçalez de Carbajal)


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Formation of new dioceses


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Letter to Felipe II (Antonio de Morga, 1595)


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Expedition to Camboja


text: The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898/Volume 9/Instructions to Figueroa