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 find a cool spot; who fuss and fume and fan until they are red in the face and running perspiration. The best way to keep cool is to go about your work methodically, be as quiet as you can, and forget the weather.

It is much the same way with the other worries of life. We grow hot over the slights and insults, we are agitated over our misfortunes as we talk of them, and let our minds dwell upon them, and exaggerate them. We are constantly tending the fires of anger or resentment or they would shortly burn themselves out.

The man who under stress, and irritation, and misrepresentation can keep his balance, can control his temper and his tongue, can subdue the rising emotions, has conserved his own strength, has made it possible for himself to do more and better work, and has more than half defeated the purposes of his opponent.

"How can you sit so calmly and say nothing?" I asked a friend of mine not long ago,


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 who was the subject of a bitter, untruthful personal attack. "Because the cooler I keep, the hotter and the weaker his words become," was the answer.

So far as we can, we may better take the hot words and hot days quietly, without comment, without physical agitation. There is a force and a strength in keeping cool.

August

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


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HERE was a letter in the mail yesterday from a firm in Chicago asking me to recommend McGuire. The requirements were that he should be a man of honesty and integrity with energy and initiative. It was a hard rôle for Mac to play, and I laid the letter aside to ponder over my answer and its phrasing. I wanted to be both truthful and kind.

Mac was the sort of man who doesn't care what people think. He expected to get by through his own cleverness and adroitness rather than by honest effort. He never worked unless he had to do so, and then as little as possible. If I had ever wanted him suddenly, I should have sought him in the most frequented loafing place about the campus. He was "no student", he admitted, but he was sure he was "getting as much out


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 of the course as some of these grinds." There had occasionally been some doubt as to whether what Mac got from the course came from his own brain or from some one else's paper, but he had never really been caught.

His written exercises were carelessly done and usually late; if he felt that he could pass the course without it, they were never written at all. He was a man of excuses, desiring always extensions and special privileges. No, I could not say that he was honest, and though he had brains, he had neither energy nor initiative. He was in reality an unreliable loafer, and a difficult man to recommend.

A friend of mine once said to a young fellow who had asked him for a letter of recommendation, "If you will write one about yourself that is true and complimentary, I will sign it." I think, perhaps, it is not a bad test of a man's character for him to sit down and fairly and honestly analyze his


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 qualifications, to see if there is anything he could write about himself that is true and complimentary, to put down in black and white the real personal facts, and then face them.

If your work in college has been irregular, commonplace, and sometimes a failure; if you have been delighted merely to get by; if you have gained the reputation of being a loafer rather than a grind, of being a clever shifty fellow rather than straightforwardly square and honest, the man who writes your recommendation will also have a hard time.

What could you say about Mac, if you were called upon to write a letter of recommendation for him; and what could you write about yourself?

August


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text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock


text:
Team

 * "The Team" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark
 * "The Teams" (1896, "A cloud of dust on the long, white road"), a poem by Henry Lawson

title: Team


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Introduction

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Introduction


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Day's Work

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Day's Work


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Freshman

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Freshman


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Stung

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Stung


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Joiner

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Joiner


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/What?

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/What?


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Snap

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Snap


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Profanity

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Profanity


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Uncertain Mail


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Who Pays?

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Who Pays?


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Happiness

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Happiness


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Liar

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Liar


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Greatest Thing


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Cucus and Courtesy


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/His Job

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/His Job


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Two Points of View


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Team

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Team


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Wholesome Neglect


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Telephone Courtesy


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Short Change

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Short Change


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Vacations

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Vacations


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Mac

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Mac


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Good Resolutions


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/False Faces

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/False Faces


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Paper From Home


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Examinations

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Examinations


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Virtue and Reward


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Spring

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Spring


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Civic Pride

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Civic Pride


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/On Time

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/On Time


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Manners

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Manners


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Mother

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Mother


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/A Clean Tongue

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/A Clean Tongue


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Good of the College


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Bread and Butter Letters


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Looking Through the Fence


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Taking the Stranger in


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Alma Mater

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Alma Mater


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Redeeming the Time


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Playing the Game


text:
Page:Chronicles of the Picts, chronicles of the Scots, and other early memorials of Scottish history.djvu/364

 Þurh þat loud he æirnde :

& hæȝadc' and hpermde.

Coiiien þa tiSende :

to Maurius þon kinge.

liu ]>& king Rodric :

Hs rajflac makede.

Sone he sende fondc :

jeond alle filTe kine-londe.

hiJehte a;iier«lciie mon :

pa his monfcipe uSe.

 * )at he wcl iwepned :

comen' to liirede.

pil'folc wes ifomned :

and fe king fufde.

ferde into Scotlonde :

jiere ho Rodric king fond.

Heo fuhton swiSe feondliohc :

i^ feollen pa Peohtes.

& Rodric J>er wes of-flajon :

& leo8Sen mid heorleu to-dra^au.

per dude jNIauiius Jie king :

a wel fwu'So lajllech J>mg.

nppen |)cu ilke ftude :

per he Rodi-ic uor-dude.

he lette a-rairen anan :

enne swTit5e fielcuS ftau.

he lette per on grauen :

SBelcuSe run-ltaueu.

porh Jiat lond he hearude :

and (loh folk and barude.

Come pe tidind :

to Maunis pan kinke.'

hou pe king Rodrich :

his lond al for-verde.

Sone he fende fonde :

^eond al his kinelonde.

hehte echne man :

pat him god wolde.

mid al his wepne :

come to ))an kinge.

pis folk was ifomned :

and hit forp fnl'de.

wende into Scotlond ;

par lie Ro(.b'ich fond.

Hii foliten mainliche :

and folle pe Rentes.

and Rodrich par was of-flawe ;

and fuplie mid horfo to-drawe.

par dude Maurus ])e kuig :

a fmpe fellich ping.

vppen pan ilke ftude :

par he Rodrich for-dudc.

he lette arere anon :

ane felcujie fton.

he lette par an gi-auie :

of Rodiiches deajie.

most harm, through the land he ran, and 'harried aud harmed [slew folk and burnt]. The tidings came to Maurius the king, how the king Rodric 'made his ravage [his land all destroyed]. Soon he sent messengers over all 'this [his] kingdom; ordered 'every [each] man, who 'his honor granted [would good to him],' that he' 'well weaponed shoidd come [with all his weapons to come] to 'court [the king]. This folk was assembled, and 'the king [it forth] marched; proceeded into Scotland, where he found 'king' Rodric. They fought 'most fiercely [strongly], and the Peohtes fell, and Rodric was there slain, aud afterwards drawu in pieces by horses. There did Maurius the king an exceeding marvellou.^ tiling; upon the same spot where he destroyed Rodric he caused anon to be reared a 'most' wonderful

htcrjede !

' R. kinge.

 * come?


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Test

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Test


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Reunion

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Reunion


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Commencement

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Commencement


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Loafer

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/The Loafer


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Getting in to Things


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Doing What We Like


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Respect for Books


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Trifling Irritations


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Keeping Cool

title: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/Keeping Cool


text: The Sunday Eight O'Clock/His Recommendation


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text:
False Faces

 * "False Faces" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark
 * The False Faces (1918), a novel by Louis Joseph Vance
 * The False Faces (1919), a silent film based on the novel

title: False Faces


text:
Page:Tristimulus specification of the Munsell book of color from spectrophotometric measurements (IA jresv31n1p55).pdf/1

 Rh

RESEARCH PAPER RP1549

Part of Journal of Research of the National Bureau of Standards, Volume 31, August 1943

The development of the Inter-Society Color Council-National Bureau of Standards (ISCC-NBS) system of color names, based on the standards in theMunsell Book of Color, made it necessary to specify the master standards of this book in fundamental terms. Accordingly, spectral reflection curves were run for each of the 421 master standards on the General Electric recording spectrophotometer at the National Bureau of Standards, using slit widths of approximately 4 millimicrons. Various corrections were applied to these spectrophotometric data in accordance with methods regularly used for such work at the bureau. Colorimetric computations were then made with these data, resulting in tristimulus specifications according to the 1931 ICI standard observer and coordinate system. Four illuminants were used: ICI illuminants A and C, representative of incandescent-lamp light and average daylight, respectively, illuminant "D" (lightly overcast north sky), and illuminant "8" (extremely blue sky).

The colorimetric specifications of the Munsell standards for all four illuminants are thus given.

The trilinear coordinates for the Munsell standards calculated for ICI illuminant C have been plotted on large chromaticity (x, y) diagrams and constant Munsell chroma lines drawn in. (Similar values obtained by Glenn and Killian at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1935 for Munsell colorstandards bearing the same hue-value-chroma designations have also been plotted on the diagram and differences between the two sets of data are discussed.) These diagrams serve as means for determining the Munsell notation and thereby the ISCC-NBS color name for any color whose trilinear coordinates and apparent reflectance are given.

CONTENTS

I. INTRODUCTION

Two of the official compendia of drugs and medicines, the United States Pharmacopoeia and the National Formulary, specify the purity and quality of drugs by a number of tests for which tolerance limits are set. With a crude drug, for example, these tests refer to ash, acid 55


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 insoluble ash, size, chemical identification tests, taste, color, and so forth, these being indications of purity or quality. All of the tests except color have been under continuous study by committees entrusted with their revision. Color, on the other hand, presented a different type of problem whose solution was not attempted until 1931. Previously the color terms used in the USP and NF had enjoyed no official definition but contained, among others, such confusing terms as "brownish green" or "blackish white," with seldom any reference to a color chart or standard. In the monograph of a drug, the pharmacognocist describes the colors of the outside and the inside, the colors of the various microscopic elements, and finally, the colors of the identification tests. In each instance, no mention is made of the normality of the observer's color vision [1], or of the conditions of lighting or viewing.

Agitation toward research for the development of a suitable system of color terminology was begun in the twenties by E. N. Gathercoal, then a member of the USP Revision Committee [2]. After the founding of the Inter-Society Color Council, of which he was the first chairman, studies were made of the then existing color systems, and in 1933 the report [3] was submitted which became the basis of the system of color names now known as the ISCC-NBS system of color names [4]. Procedures were developed at the same time for the application of these color names to the description of the colors of crude drugs, powdered drugs, chemicals, liquids, precipitates, microscopic structures, and fluorescent materials [5]. The central notations of the color-name blocks were determined for the application of these color names to the description of the colors of soils [6]. Recently these names have also been used to describe the colors of illuminants, and a description of this method of use is in preparation.

In all of this work, the boundaries of the separate color-name blocks have been specified in terms of the Munsell color standards [7, 8]. It was r ealized early in the project that in order to be placed on a sound basis the individual boundaries must be specified in fundamental terms. The accuracy of the system of color names would then be independent of the existence or stability of the individual system of material color standards, in terms of which the system is used in practice. Since the Munsell color system provided a very satisfactory means of determining which color name best described the color of an object, it was decided to measure the spectral reflectances of all of the color standards in the Munsell Book of Color. The specification of the trilinear coordinates and apparent reflectances of each of the Munsell samples would provide an invariable specification of the color of that sample and thereby of a definite point in the framework of the system by which the relative position of each color name is indicated.

Tristimulus specifications of the Munsell Book of Color have been published by Glenn and Killian [8] and were available for some time before that date. Instead of using the Glenn-Killian data, however, it seemed preferable to define the ISCC-NBS system of color names by way of the Munsell samples actually used in the color-names work. This involved a nominal repetition of the spectrophotometric and colorimetric work carried out by Glenn and Killian, but avoided uncertainties arising out of the possible differences between the respective Munsell samples bearing the same


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 color designation as well as those arising from the unknown history and usage of the Glenn-Killian samples prior to their measurement. Furthermore, the present authors desired to use in the spectrophotometric measurements certain methods of calibration regularly used at the National Bureau of Standards for such work. The measurements and computations described below were accordingly undertaken, and the diagrams and tables included in the present paper provide a means by which a color may be named without reference to a color chart, or by which the boundaries of the color-name blocks may be specified in terms of a fundamental color system. It is now possible to select the appropriate color name for a color when the fundamental specifications for that color are given.

Since the application of this system of color names will be made in the plant or in the field where the illumination used will usually be daylight, all of the techniques and computations, both for the color names and for the Munsell system, have primarily been made on the basis of ICI illuminant C. However, colorimetric data on the Munsell standards for other illuminants are also of interest. Accordingly, based on the same spectrophotometric data, tristimulus values have been computed for four illuminants-ICI illuminant C [9] (representative of average daylight), ICI illuminant A [9] (2,842°K [10], representative of incandescent illuminants), illuminant "D" [11, 12] (representative of lightly overcast north sky), and illuminant "8" [13, 14] (representative of extremely blue sky).

{[center|'''II. SAMPLES MEASURED'''}}

Prior to his death, Walter T. Spry, then manager of the Munsell Color Co., deposited one or more samples of all of the original paintings of the standards in the Munsell Book of Color with the Colorimetry Section of the Bureau. He also deposited repaints of all colors the original paintings of which had become depleted, together with new colors prepared up to 1935. In selecting the samples of each color to be measured, that painting was chosen which matched the color chip of the same designation in the Munsell Book of Color. In most instances the color differences between the originals and their repaints were negligible, but in several cases it was important to specify which painting was used. Therefore, for the purpose of accuracy and as a matter of record, the painting number of each sample measured is given.

The 2-value 2-chroma samples for the intermediate hues (10R,10YR, 10Y, etc.) were painted independently of the other 2-value 2-chroma samples, and the colors and the data are not as congruent with the other samples as they are with each other. These samples, as well as several 8-value 2-chroma samples for the intermediate hues, are not included in the Munsell Book of Color, but they were measured and the data are included in the present paper for the sake of completeness. One new sample, 10YR 8/8, recently received, is included. The complete list of samples measured is given in table 2.

The samples in the Munsell Book of Color were inspected under a strong source of ultraviolet radiant energy and also under a strong yellowish green light for fluorescence that might vitiate the spectrophotometric measurements [15]. No fluorescence was observed under either illuminant.


text:
On Time (Milton)

 * "On Time", in Poems of Mr. John Milton, Both English and Latin, Compos'd at several times (1645)
 * "On Time", in Poems &c. Upon Several Occasions (1673)

title: On Time (Milton)


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two kinds of social reform, one of which might conceivably free us at last while the other would certainly enslave us forever, are exhibited in an easy working model in the two efforts that have been made for the soldiers' wives—I mean the effort to increase their allowance and the effort to curtail their alleged drinking. In the preliminary consideration, at any rate, we must see the second question as quite detached from our own sympathies on the special subject of fermented liquor. It could be applied to any other pleasure or ornament of life; it will be applied to every other pleasure and ornament of life if the Capitalist campaign can succeed. The argument we know; but it cannot be too often made clear. An em-


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 ployer, let us say, pays a seamstress twopence a day, and she does not seem to thrive on it. So little, perhaps, does she thrive on it that the employer has even some difficulty in thriving upon her. There are only two things that he can do, and the distinction between them cuts the whole social and political world in two. It is a touchstone by which we can—not sometimes, but always—distinguish economic equality from servile social reform. He can give the girl some magnificent sum, such as sixpence a day, to do as she likes with, and trust that her improved health and temper will work for the benefit of his business. Or he may keep her to the original sum of a shilling a week, but earmark each of the pennies to be used or not to be used for a particular purpose. If she must not spend this penny on a bunch of violets, or that penny on a novelette, or the other penny on a toy for some baby, it is possible that she will concentrate her expenditure more upon


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A time after the difficult affair which proved so fatal to the cooper, I was employed to detect the authors of a nocturnal robbery, committed by climbing and forcible entry in the apartments of the Prince de Condé, in the Palais Bourbon. Glasses of a vast size had disappeared, and their abstraction was effected with so much precaution, that the sleep of two Cerberi, who supplied the place of a watchman, had not been for a moment disturbed. The frames in which these glasses had been were not at all injured; and I was at first tempted to believe that they had been taken out by looking-glass makers or cabinet makers; but in Paris these workmen are so numerous, that I could not pitch on any one of them whom I knew with any certainty of suspicion. Yet I was resolved to detect the guilty, and to effect this I commenced my inquiries.

The keeper of a sculpture-gallery, near the quincaux of the invalids, gave me the first information by which


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 physical necessities, and so become, from the employer's point of view, a more efficient person. Without the trouble of adding twopence to her wages, he has added twopenny-worth to her food. In short, she has the holy satisfaction of being worth more without being paid more.

This Capitalist is an ingenious person, and has many polished characteristics; but I think the most singular thing about him is his staggering lack of shame. Neither the hour of death nor the day of reckoning, neither the tent of exile nor the house of mourning, neither chivalry nor patriotism, neither womanhood nor widowhood, is safe at this supreme moment from his dirty little expedient of dieting the slave. As similar bullies, when they collect the slum rents, put a foot in the open door, these are always ready to push in a muddy wedge wherever there is a slit in a sundered household or a crack in a broken heart. To a man of any


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 manhood nothing can be conceived more loathsome and sacrilegious than even so much as asking whether a woman who has given up all she loved to death and the fatherland has or has not shown some weakness in her seeking for self-comfort. I know not in which of the two cases I should count myself the baser for inquiring—a case where the charge was false or a case where it was true. But the philanthropic employer of the sort I describe is not a man of any manhood; in a sense he is not a man at all. He shows some consciousness of the fact when he calls his workers "men" as distinct from masters. He cannot comprehend the gallantry of costermongers or the delicacy that is quite common among cabmen. He finds this social reform by half-rations on the whole to his mercantile profit, and it will be hard to get him to think of anything else.

But there are people assisting him, people like the Duchess of Marlborough, who know


text:
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 hu he Rodric of-floh :

& hine mid horfen to-ili'uh.

& hu lie pa Peohtes :

oiier-com mid his fashtes.

Vp he fette ))cTne ftan :

jet he Jier ftondetS.

swa he detS al fwa longe :

swa fa woreld ftondeS.

Nome him fcupte |)e king :

& hehte f one Ihxu West-mering.

a muchel d-jA lonJes :

pe fer litS ahuten.

non fie king to liis hond :

& hsehte liit Weft-merelinge lend

Nu fu hafiieft foS iherd :

for whan hit swa hatte.

pa fe' Jieo Peohtes :

weoren ouer-cumne i fon fehte.

and Eodric wes dted :

& his iueren for-demed.

))a flujen Jier bUiselues :

fiftene hundred.

])at weoreoren^ ])a feu-eft men :

pe weoren i Jwn fehte.

hwfden he^ to here-to^ :

emie ha^h iborene mon.

peof weolden heom ibuijen :

& bi-halues fleon.

ou he Rodrich of-sloh : and mid horfe to-di'oli. and ou he |)e Peutes : ouercom mid fihte. Vp he fette [lane fton : jet he fare flondeji.

Name him fcopte |iane king and hehte hine Weftmering. for name of )?an Hone : pat lond liis fo hi-hote.

po Rodrich was of-ftaje : and idon of lif daje. J'O fleh fare bi-hahies : ' fiftene hundred, fat weren fe fairefte men : J)at weren in fan filite. hadden hii aime heuedling of on hcje ibore man. peos wolden hinne bouwe ; and bi-halues wende.

stone pillar; he caused thereon to be graven "strange characters, [of Rodrics death, and] how he slew Rodric, and with horses drew him in pieces, and how he overcame the Peohtes with ' his' fight. Up he set the stone; yet it there standeth; 'so it will do as long as the world standeth.' A name the king shaped to it, and called "the stone [it] West-mering; 'a great part of the land that there lieth about the king took in his hand,' "and named it West-merelinge land [for the name of the stone the land is sn called]. ' Now thou hast heard the sooth, for what cause it so bight. When that the Peohtes were overcome in the fight,' "and Rodric was dead, and his companions destroyed [When Rodrich was slain, and done of life-day], then fled there aside fifteen hundred, that were the fairest men that were

A letter has been erased after þe.

R. weoren.

heo?


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 not their right hand from their left, and to these we may legitimately address our remonstrance and a résumé of some of the facts they do not know. The Duchess of Marlborough is, I believe, an American, and this separates her from the problem in a special way, because the drink question in America is entirely different from the drink question in England. But I wish the Duchess of Marlborough would pin up in her private study, side by side with the Declaration of Independence, a document recording the following simple truths: (1) Beer, which is largely drunk in public-houses, is not a spirit or a grog or a cocktail or a drug. It is the common English liquid for quenching the thirst; it is so still among innumerable gentlemen, and, until very lately, was so among innumerable ladies. Most of us remember dames of the last generation whose manners were fit for Versailles, and who drank ale or Stout as a matter of course. Schoolboys drank ale as a


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 matter of course, and their schoolmasters gave it to them as a matter of course. To tell a poor woman that she must not have any until half the day is over is simply cracked, like telling a dog or a child that he must not have water. (2) The public-house is not a secret rendezvous of bad characters. It is the open and obvious place for a certain purpose, which all men used for that purpose until the rich began to be snobs and the poor to become slaves. One might as well warn people against Willesden Junction. (3) Many poor people live in houses where they cannot, without great preparation, offer hospitality. (4) The climate of these picturesque islands does not favour conducting long conversations with one's oldest friends on an iron seat in the park. (5) Halfpast eleven a.m. is not early in the day for a woman who gets up before six. (6) The bodies and minds of these women belong to God and to themselves.


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 I was guided. About three o'clock in the morning, he had seen near his door several glasses, in the care of a young man, who pretended to have been obliged to station them there whilst waiting for the return of his porters, who had broken their hand-barrow. Two hours afterwards, the young man having found two messengers, had made them carry off the glasses, and had directed them to the side of the fountain of the invalids. According to the keeper, the person he saw was about twenty-three years of age, and about five feet and an inch (frenchFrench [sic] measure.) He was clothed in an iron-grey great coat, and had a very good countenance. This information was not immediately useful to me, but it led me to find the messenger, who, the day after the robbery, had carried some glasses of large size to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and left them at the little Hotel Caraman. These were, in all probability, the glasses stolen, and if they were, who could say that they had not changed domicile and owner? I had the person who had received them pointed out to me, and determined on introducing myself to her; and that my presence might not inspire her with fear, it was in the guise of a cook that I introduced myself to her notice. The light jacket and cotton night-cap are the ensigns of the profession; I clothed myself in such attire, and fully entering into the spirit of my character, went to the little Hotel de Caraman, where I ascended to the first floor. The door was closed; I knocked, and it was opened to me by a very good-looking young fellow, who asked me what I wanted. I gave him an address, and told him that having learnt that he was in want of a cook, I had taken the liberty of offering my services to him.

"My dear fellow, you are under a mistake," he replied, "the address you have given me is not mine, but as there are two Rues Saint-Dominique, it is most probably to the other that you should go."

All Ganymedes have not been carried off to Olympus, and the handsome youth who spoke to me had manners,


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has come into our community, which is strong enough to save our community; but which has not yet got a name. Let no one fancy I confess any unreality when I confess the namelessness. The morality called Puritanism, the tendency called Liberalism, the reaction called Tory Democracy, had not only long been powerful, but had practically done most of their work, before these actual names were attached to them. Nevertheless, I think it would be a good thing to have some portable and practicable way of referring to those who think as we do in our main concern. Which is, that men in England are ruled, at this minute by the clock, by brutes who refuse them bread, by liars who refuse them news, and by fools


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 who cannot govern, and therefore wish to enslave.

Let me explain first why I am not satisfied with the word commonly used, Which I have often used myself; and which, in some contexts, is quite the right word to use. I mean the word "rebel." Passing over the fact that many who understand the justice of our cause (as a great many at the Universities) would still use the word "rebel" in its old and strict sense as meaning only a disturber of just rule. I pass to a much more practical point. The word "rebel" understates our cause. It is much too mild; it lets our enemies off much too easily. There is a tradition in all western life and letters of Prometheus defying the stars, of man at war with the Universe, and dreaming what nature had never dared to dream. All this is valuable in its place and proportion. But it has nothing whatever to do with our ease; or rather it very much weakens it. The plutocrats will be only


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 too pleased if we profess to preach a new morality; for they know jolly well that they have broken the old one. They will be only too pleased to be able to say that we, by our own confession, are merely restless and negative; that we are only what we call rebels and they call cranks. But it is not true; and we must not concede it to them for a moment. The model millionaire is more of a crank than the Socialists; just as Nero was more of a crank than the Christians. And avarice has gone mad in the governing class to-day, just as lust went mad in the circle of Nero. By all the working and orthodox standards of sanity, capitalism is insane. I should not say to Mr. Rockefeller "I am a rebel." I should say "I am a respectable man: and you are not."


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But the vital point is that the confession of mere rebellion softens the startling lawlessness of our enemies. Suppose a publisher's clerk politely asked his employer for a rise in his salary; and, on being refused, said he must leave the employmont? Suppose the employer knocked him down with a ruler, tied him up as a brown paper parcel, addressed him (in a fine business hand) to the Governor of Rio Janeiro and then asked the policeman to promise never to arrest him for what he had done? That is a precise copy, in every legal and moral principle, of the "deportation of the strikers." They were assaulted and kidnapped for not accepting a contract, and for nothing else; and the act was so avowedly criminal that the law had to be altered afterwards to cover the crime. Now suppose some postal official, between here and Rio Janeiro, had noticed a faint kicking


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 inside the brown paper parcel, and had attempted to ascertain the cause. And suppose the clerk could only explain, in a muffled voice through the brown paper, that he was by constitution and temperament a Rebel. Don't you see that he would be rather understating his case? Don't you see he would be bearing his injuries much too meekly? They might take him out of the parcel; but they would very possibly put him into a mad-house instead. Symbolically speaking, that is what they would like to do with us. Symbolically speaking, the dirty misers who rule us will put us in a mad-house—unless we can put them there.

Or suppose a bank cashier were admittedly allowed to take the money out of the till, and put it loose in his pocket, more or less mixed up with his own money; afterwards laying some of both (at different odds) on "Blue Murder" for the Derby. Suppose when some depositor asked mildly what day the account-


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 gestures, and language, which, united to his appearance, convinced me in an instant with whom my business lay. I instantly assumed the tone of an initiate in the mysteries of the ultra-philanthropists, and after some signs which he perfectly understood, I told him how very sorry I was that he did not want me.

"Ah sir," I said to him, "I would rather remain with you, even if you only gave me half what I should get elsewhere; if you only knew how miserable I am; I have been six months out of place, and I do not get a dinner every day. Would you believe that thirty-six hours have elapsed, and I have not taken anything?"

"You pain me, my good fellow; what, are you still fasting? Come, come, you shall dine here."

I had really an appetite capable of giving the lie I had just uttered all the semblance of truth; a two-pound loaf, half a fowl, cheese, and a bottle of wine, which he produced, did not make long sojourn on the table. Once filled, I began again to talk of my unfortunate condition.

"See sir," said I, "if it be possible to be in a more pitiable situation, I know four trades, and out of the whole four cannot get employ in one, tailor, hatter, cook; I know a little of all, and yet cannot get on. My first start was as a looking-glass setter."

"A looking-glass setter!" said he abruptly: and without giving him time to reflect on the imprudence of such an exclamation, I went on.

"Yes, a looking-glass setter, and I know that trade the best of the four; but business is so dead, that there is really nothing now stirring in it."

"Here my friend," said the young man, presenting to me a small glass, "this is brandy, it will do you good; you know not how much you interest me, I can give you work for several days."

"Ah! sir, you are too good, you restore me to life: how, if you please, do you intend to employ me?"

"As a looking-glass framer."

"If you have glasses to fit, pier, Psyche, light of day,


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 ants came, he smote that astonished inquirer on the nose, crying: "Slanderer! Mud-slinger!" and suppose he then resigned his position. Suppose no books were shown. Suppose when the new cashier came to be initiated into his duties, the old cashier did not tell him about the money, but confided it to the honour and delicacy of his own maiden aunt at Cricklewood. Suppose he then went off in a yacht to visit the whale fisheries of the North Sea. Well, in every moral and legal principle, that is a precise account of the dealings with the Party Funds. But what would the banker say? What would the clients say? One thing, I think, I can venture to promise; the banker would not march up and down the office exclaiming in rapture, "I'm a rebel! That's what I am, a rebel!" And if he said to the first indignant depositor "You are a rebel," I fear the depositor might answer, "You are a robber." We have no need to elaborate arguments for


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 breaking the law. The capitalists have broken the law. We have no need of further moralities. They have broken their own morality. It is as if you were to run down the street shouting, "Communism! Communism! Share! Share!" after a man who had run away with your watch.

We want a term that will tell everybody that there is, by the common standard, frank fraud and cruelty pushed to their fierce extreme; and that we are fighting them. We are not in a state of "divine discontent"; we are in an entirely human and entirely reasonable rage. We say we have been swindled and oppressed, and we are quite ready and able to prove it before any tribunal that allows us to call a swindler a swindler. It is the protection of the present system that most of its tribunals do not. I cannot at the moment think of any party name that would particularly distinguish us from our more powerful and prosperous op-


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 ponents, unless it were the name the old Jacobites gave themselves; the Honest Party.

I think it is plain that for the purpose of facing these new and infamous modern facts, we cannot, with any safety, depend on any of the old nineteenth century names; Socialist, or Communist, or Radical, or Liberal, or Labour. They are all honourable names; they all stand, or stood, for things in which we may still believe; we can still apply them to other problems; but not to this one. We have no longer a monopoly of these names. Let it be understood that I am not speaking here of the philosophical problem of their meaning, but of the practical problem of their use. When I called myself a Radical I knew Mr. Balfour would not call himself a Radical; therefore there was some use in the word. When I called myself a Socialist I knew Lord Penrhyn would not


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 call himself a Socialist; therefore there was some use in the word. But the capitalists, in that aggressive march which is the main fact of our time, have captured our standards, both in the military and philosophic sense of the word. And it is useless for us to march under colours which they can carry as well as we.

Do you believe in Democracy? The devils also believe and tremble. Do you believe in Trades Unionism? The Labour Members also believe; and tremble like a falling teetotum. Do you believe in the State? The Samuels also believe, and grin. Do you believe in the centralisation of Empire? So did Beit. Do you believe in the decentralisation of Empire? So does Albu. Do you believe in the brotherhood of men: and do you, dear brethren, believe that Brother Arthur Henderson does not? Do you cry, "The world for the workers!" and do you imagine Philip Snowden would not? What we need is a name that shall declare, not that the


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 modern treason and tyranny are bad, but that they are quite literally, intolerable: and that we mean to act accordingly. I really think "the Limits" would be as good a name as any. But, anyhow, something is born among us that is as strong as an infant Hercules: and it is part of my prejudices to want it christened. I advertise for godfathers and godmothers.


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Redeeming the Time

 * "Redeeming the Time" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark
 * "Redeeming the Time" (1836, "Why break the limits of permitted thought"), a poem by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

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was once upon a time a peasant called Masaniello who had twelve daughters. They were exactly like the steps of a staircase, for there was just a year between each sister. It was all the poor man could do to bring up such a large family, and in order to provide food for them he used to dig in the fields all day long. In spite of his hard work he only just succeeded in keeping the wolf from the door, and the poor little girls often went hungry to bed.

One day, when Masaniello was working at the foot of a high mountain, he came upon the mouth of a cave which was so dark and gloomy that even the sun seemed afraid to enter it. Suddenly a huge green lizard appeared from the inside and stood before Masaniello, who nearly went out of his mind with terror, for the beast was as big as a crocodile and quite as fierce looking.

But the lizard sat down beside him in the most friendly manner, and said: ‘Don’t be afraid, my good man, I am not going to hurt you; on the contrary, I am most anxious to help you.’

When the peasant heard these words he knelt before the lizard and said: ‘Dear lady, for I know not what to call you, I am in your power; but I beg of you to be merciful, for I have twelve wretched little daughters at home who are dependent on me.’

‘That’s the very reason why I have come to you,’ replied the lizard. ‘Bring me your youngest daughter to-morrow morning. I promise to bring her up as if she

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which does not exist and which is very much wanted is "A Working-Man's History of England." I do not mean a history written for working men (there are whole dustbins of them), I mean a history, written by working men or from the working men's standpoint. I wish five generations of a fisher's or a miner's family could incarnate themselves in one man and tell the story.

It is impossible to ignore altogether any comment coming from so eminent a literary artist as Mr. Laurence Housman, but I do not deal here so specially with his well known conviction about Votes for Women, as with another idea which is, I think, rather at the back


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 of it, if not with him at least with others; and which concerns this matter of the true story of England. For the true story is so entirely different from the false official story that the official classes tell that by this time the working class itself has largely forgotten its own experience. Either story can be quite logically linked up with Female Suffrage, which, therefore, I leave where it is for the moment; merely confessing that, so long as we get hold of the right story and not the wrong story, it seems to me a matter of secondary importance whether we link it up with Female Suffrage or not.

Now the ordinary version of recent English history that most moderately educated people have absorbed from childhood is something like this. That we emerged slowly from a semi-barbarism in which all the power and wealth were in the hands of Kings and a few nobles; that the King's power was broken first and


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 then in due time that of the nobles, that this piece-meal improvement was brought about by one class after another waking up to a sense of citizenship and demanding a place in the national councils, frequently by riot or violence; and that in consequence of such menacing popular action, the franchise was granted to one class after another and used more and more to improve the social conditions of those classes, until we practically became a democracy, save for such exceptions as that of the women. I do not think anyone will deny that something like that is the general idea of the educated man who reads a newspaper and of the newspaper that he reads. That is the view current at public schools and colleges; it is part of the culture of all the classes that count for much in government; and there is not one word of truth in it from beginning to end.


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Wealth and political power were very much more popularly distributed in the Middle Ages than they are now; but we will pass all that and consider recent history. The franchise has never been largely and liberally granted in England; half the males have no vote and are not likely to get one. It was never granted in reply to pressure from awakened sections of the democracy; in every case there was a perfectly clear motive for granting it solely for the convenience of the aristocrats. The Great Reform Bill was not passed in response to such riots as that which destroyed a Castle; nor did the men who destroyed the Castle get any advantage whatever out of the Great Reform Bill. The Great Reform Bill was passed in order to seal an alliance between the landed aristocrats and the rich manufacturers of the north (an alliance that rules us still); and the chief object of that alliance was to prevent the


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 English populace getting any political power in the general excitement after the French Revolution. No one can read Macaulay's speech on the Chartists, for instance, and not see that this is so. Disraeli's further extension of the suffrage was not effected by the intellectual vivacity and pure republican theory of the mid-Victorian agricultural labourer; it was effected by a politician who saw an opportunity to dish the Whigs, and guessed that certain orthodoxies in the more prosperous artisan might yet give him a balance against the commercial Radicals. And while this very thin game of wire-pulling with the mere abstraction of the vote was being worked entirely by the oligarchs and entirely in their interests, the solid and real thing that was going on was the steady despoiling of the poor of all power or wealth, until they find themselves to-day upon the threshold of slavery. That is The Working Man's History of England.


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 Now, as I have said, I care comparatively little what is done with the mere voting part of the matter, so long as it is not clone in such a way as to allow the plutocrat to escape his responsibility for his crimes, by pretending to be much more progressive, or much more susceptible to popular protest, than he ever has been. And there is this danger in many of those who have answered me. One of them, for instance, says that women have been forced into their present industrial situations by the same iron economic laws that have compelled men. I say that men have not been compelled by iron economic laws, but in the main by the coarse and Christless cynicism of other men. But, of course, this way of talking is exactly in accordance with the fashionable and official version of English history. Thus, you will read that the monasteries, places where men of the poorest origin could be powerful, grew corrupt and gradually decayed. Or you will read


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 that the mediæval guilds of free workmen yielded at last to an inevitable economic law. You will read this; and you will be reading lies. They might as well say that Julius Caesar gradually decayed at the foot of Pompey's statue. You might as well say that Abraham Lincoln yielded at last to an inevitable economic law. The free mediæval guilds did not decay; they were murdered. Solid men with solid guns and halberds, armed with lawful warrants from living statesmen broke up their corporations and took away their hard cash from them. In the same way the people in Cradley Heath are no more victims of a necessary economic law than the people in Putumayo. They are victims of a very terrible creature, of whose sins much has been said since the beginning of the world; and of whom it was said of old, "Let us fall into the hands of God, for His mercies are great; but let us not fall into the hands of Man."


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Reunion

 * "Reunion" (1876, "Where shall we meet who parted long ago?"), a poem published anonymously in Littell's Living Age
 * "The Reunion" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark

title: Reunion


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Now it is this offering of a false economic excuse for the sweater that is the danger in perpetually saying that the poor woman will use the vote and that the poor man has not used it. The poor man is prevented from using it; prevented by the rich man, and the poor woman would be prevented in exactly the same gross and stringent style. I do not deny, of course, that there is something in the English temperament, and in the heritage of the last few centuries that makes the English workman more tolerant of wrong than most foreign workmen would be. But this only slightly modifies the main fact of the moral responsibility. To take an imperfect parallel, if we said that negro slaves would have rebelled if negroes had been more intelligent, we should be saying what is reasonable. But if we were to say that it could by any possibility be rep-


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 resented as being the negro's fault that he was at that moment in America and not in Africa, we should be saying what is frankly unreasonable. It is every bit as unreasonable to say the mere supineness of the English workmen has put them in the capitalist slave-yard. The capitalist has put them in the capitalist slave-yard; and very cunning smiths have hammered the chains. It is just this creative criminality in the authors of the system that we must not allow to be slurred over. The capitalist is in the dock to-day; and so far as I at least can prevent him, he shall not get out of it.


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 were my own child, and to look upon her as the apple of my eye.’

When Masaniello heard her words he was very unhappy, because he felt sure, from the lizard’s wanting one of his daughters, the youngest and tenderest too, that the poor little girl would only serve as dessert for the terrible creature’s supper. At the same time he said to himself, ‘If I refuse her request, she will certainly eat me up on the spot. If I give her what she asks she does indeed take part of myself, but if I refuse she will take the whole of me. What am I to do, and how in the world am I to get out of the difficulty?’

As he kept muttering to himself the lizard said, ‘Make up your mind to do as I tell you at once. I desire to have your youngest daughter, and if you won’t comply with my wish, I can only say it will be the worse for you.’

Seeing that there was nothing else to be done, Masaniello set off for his home, and arrived there looking so white and wretched that his wife asked him at once: ‘What has happened to you, my dear husband? Have you quarrelled with anyone, or has the poor donkey fallen down?’

‘Neither the one nor the other,’ answered her husband, ‘but something far worse than either. A terrible lizard has nearly frightened me out of my senses, for she threatened that if I did not give her our youngest daughter, she would make me repent it. My head is going round like a mill-wheel, and I don’t know what to do. I am indeed between the Devil and the Deep Sea. You know how dearly I love Renzolla, and yet, if I fail to bring her to the lizard to-morrow morning, I must say farewell to life. Do advise me what to do.’

When his wife had heard all he had to say, she said to him: ‘How do you know, my dear husband, that the lizard is really our enemy? May she not be a friend in disguise? And your meeting with her may be the

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 beginning of better things and the end of all our misery. Therefore go and take the child to her, for my heart tells me that you will never repent doing so.’

Masaniello was much comforted by her words, and next morning as soon as it was light he took his little daughter by the hand and led her to the cave.

The lizard, who was awaiting the peasant’s arrival, came forward to meet him, and taking the girl by the hand, she gave the father a sack full of gold, and said: ‘Go and marry your other daughters, and give them dowries with this gold, and be of good cheer, for Renzolla will have both father and mother in me; it is a great piece of luck for her that she has fallen into my hands.’

Masaniello, quite overcome with gratitude, thanked the lizard, and returned home to his wife.

As soon as it was known how rich the peasant had become, suitors for the hands of his daughters were not wanting, and very soon he married them all off; and even then there was enough gold left to keep himself and his wife in comfort and plenty all their days.

As soon as the lizard was left alone with Renzolla, she changed the cave into a beautiful palace, and led the girl inside. Here she brought her up like a little princess, and the child wanted for nothing. She gave her sumptuous food to eat, beautiful clothes to wear, and a thousand servants to wait on her.

Now, it happened, one day, that the king of the country was hunting in a wood close to the palace, and was overtaken by the dark. Seeing a light shining in the palace he sent one of his servants to ask if he could get a night’s lodging there.

When the page knocked at the door the lizard changed herself into a beautiful woman, and opened it herself. When she heard the king’s request she sent him a message to say that she would be delighted to see him, and give him all he wanted.

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 The king, on hearing this kind invitation, instantly betook himself to the palace, where he was received in the most hospitable manner. A hundred pages with torches came to meet him, a hundred more waited on him at table, and another hundred waved big fans in the air to keep the flies from him. Renzolla herself poured out the wine for him, and, so gracefully did she do it, that his Majesty could not take his eyes off her.

When the meal was finished and the table cleared, the king retired to sleep, and Renzolla drew the shoes from his feet, at the same time drawing his heart from his breast. So desperately had he fallen in love with her, that he called the fairy to him, and asked her for Renzolla’s hand in marriage. As the kind fairy had only the girl’s welfare at heart, she willingly gave her consent, and not her consent only, but a wedding portion of seven thousand golden guineas.

The king, full of delight over his good fortune, prepared to take his departure, accompanied by Renzolla, who never so much as thanked the fairy for all she had done for her. When the fairy saw such a base want of gratitude she determined to punish the girl, and, cursing her, she turned her face into a goat’s head. In a moment Renzolla’s pretty mouth stretched out into a snout, with a beard a yard long at the end of it, her cheeks sank in, and her shining plaits of hair changed into two sharp horns. When the king turned round and saw her he thought he must have taken leave of his senses. He burst into tears, and cried out: ‘Where is the hair that bound me so tightly, where are the eyes that pierced through my heart, and where are the lips I kissed? Am I to be tied to a goat all my life? No, no! nothing will induce me to become the laughing-stock of my subjects for the sake of a goat-faced girl!’

When they reached his own country he shut Renzolla up in a little turret chamber of his palace, with a waiting-maid, and gave each of them ten bundles of flax

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 to spin, telling them that their task must be finished by the end of the week.

The maid, obedient to the king’s commands, set at once to work and combed out the flax, wound it round the spindle, and sat spinning at her wheel so diligently that her work was quite done by Saturday evening. But Renzolla, who had been spoilt and petted in the fairy’s house, and was quite unaware of the change that had taken place in her appearance, threw the flax out of the window and said: ‘What is the king thinking of that he should give me this work to do? If he wants shirts he can buy them. It isn’t even as if he had picked me out of the gutter, for he ought to remember that I brought him seven thousand golden guineas as my wedding portion, and that I am his wife and not his slave. He must be mad to treat me like this.’

All the same, when Saturday evening came, and she saw that the waiting-maid had finished her task, she took fright lest she should be punished for her idleness. So she hurried off to the palace of the fairy, and confided all her woes to her. The fairy embraced her tenderly, and gave her a sack full of spun flax, in order that she might show it to the king, and let him see what a good worker she was. Renzolla took the sack without one word of thanks, and returned to the palace, leaving the kind fairy very indignant over her want of gratitude.

When the king saw the flax all spun, he gave Renzolla and the waiting-maid each a little dog, and told them to look after the animals and train them carefully.

The waiting-maid brought hers up with the greatest possible care, and treated it almost as if it were her son. But Renzolla said: ‘I don’t know what to think. Have I come among a lot of lunatics? Does the king imagine that I am going to comb and feed a dog with my own hands?’ With these words she opened the window and threw the poor little beast out, and he fell on the ground as dead as a stone.

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 angrily: ‘Don’t you know me, old Goat-beard? And how dare you address me in such a way?’

‘The pot can’t call the kettle black,’ answered the old man, ‘for it is not I, but you who have a goat’s head. Just wait a moment, you ungrateful wretch, and I will show you to what a pass your want of gratitude has brought you.’

With these words he hurried away, and returned with a mirror, which he held up before Renzolla. At the sight of her ugly, hairy face, the girl nearly fainted with horror, and she broke into loud sobs at seeing her countenance so changed.

Then the old man said: ‘You must remember, Renzolla, that you are a peasant’s daughter, and that the fairy turned you into a queen; but you were ungrateful, and never as much as thanked her for all she had done for you. Therefore she has determined to punish you. But if you wish to lose your long white beard, throw yourself at the fairy’s feet and implore her to forgive you. She has a tender heart, and will, perhaps, take pity on you.’

Renzolla, who was really sorry for her conduct, took the old man’s advice, and the fairy not only gave her back her former face, but she dressed her in a gold embroidered dress, presented her with a beautiful carriage, and brought her back, accompanied by a host of servants, to her husband. When the king saw her looking as beautiful as ever, he fell in love with her once more, and bitterly repented having caused her so much suffering.

So Renzolla lived happily ever afterwards, for she loved her husband, honoured the fairy, and was grateful to the old man for having told her the truth.

title: Page:The Grey Fairy Book.djvu/106


text: The Grey Fairy Book/The Goat-faced Girl

title: The Grey Fairy Book/The Goat-faced Girl


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College


text:
Page:Memoirs of Vidocq, Volume 3.djvu/177

 joy of Narcissus, or any others, you have only to intrustentrust [sic] me with them, and I will give you a cast of my craft."

"I have glasses of great beauty, they were at my country-house, whence I sent for them, lest the gentlemen Cossacks should take a fancy to break them."

"You did quite right; but may I see them?"

"Yes, my friend."

He took me into a room, and at the first glance I recognised the glasses of the Palais Bourbon. I was ecstatic in their praise, their size, &c.; and after having examined them with the minute attention of a man who understands what he is about, I praised the skill of the workman who unframed them, without injury to the silvering.

"The workman, my friend," said he, "the workman was myself; I would not allow any other person to touch them, not even to load them in the carriage."

"Ah! sir, I am sorry to give you the lie, but what you tell me is impossible; a man must have been a workman to undertake such work, and even the best he of the craft might not have succeeded."

In spite of my observation, he persisted in asserting that he had no help, and as it would not have answered my purpose to have contradicted him, I dropped the subject.

A lie was an accusation at which he might have been angry, but he did not speak with less amenity, and after having given me his instructions, desired me to come early next day, and begin my work as early as possible.

"Do not forget to bring your diamond, as I wish you to remove those arches, which are no longer fashionable."

He had no more to say to me, and I had no more to learn. I left him, and went to join my two agents, to whom I gave the description of his person, and desired them to follow him if he should go out. A warrant was necessary to effect his apprehension, which I pro-


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of the Court


text:
Page:Isis very much unveiled - being the story of the great Mahatma hoax (IA b24884273).pdf/10

6 Everybody knows that Madame Blavatsky, the original founder of the society, supported its pretensions to an occult origin by the production of phenomena which were pronounced by careful investigators to be due to systematic trickery; but which are still believed by the faithful to have been produced at Madame’s request, and in support of the Theosophic movement, by certain Eastern sages possessed of transcendental powers over mind and matter.

Everybody will remember that Mrs. Besant, on whom the mantle of Madame Blavatsky has fallen, made a sensational public assertion, some time after her teacher’s death, to the effect that those “powers” were still at work (they were indeed!), and that she was herself now the recipient of similar “communications” from the “Mahatmas.”

A few people are aware that as the result of a sort of split among prominent members of the society, there was recently a Theosophic meeting at which Mrs. Besant confessed to her friends that there had been something wrong with the “communications” which she had been in such a hurry to announce to the public; made certain Theosophically obscure charges against a brother official of the society; but persuaded those assembled to rest content with a general statement and not to inquire into the facts further—in short, generally to hush the matter up.

This the Theosophists, being a docile folk, conscientiously did; and as the accused proceeded with Mrs. Besant’s sanction to deny, still in general terms, what little assertion of fact Mrs. Besant herself had appeared to convey, after which there was an affecting reconciliation: it is not surprising that to the outside public the mystery remains exactly where it was.

Even of the Theosophists themselves the full facts are only known at present to a few of the inner ring.

In view of what has gone before, this reticence appears misplaced; and as circumstances have put me in possession of the facts, I propose to give them the same publicity as was enjoyed by Mrs. Besant’s original statement.

I propose to show:—

That Mrs. Besant has been bamboozled for years by bogus


text:
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Rh of the most childish kind, and in so ludicrous a fashion as to deprive of all value any future evidence of hers on any question calling for the smallest exercise of observation and common sense.

That she would in all probability be firmly believing in the bogus documents in question to this day, but for the growing and at last irresistible protests of some less greedily gullible Theosophists.

That the bamboozling in question has been practised widely and systematically, ever since Madame Blavatsky’s death, pretty much as it used to be during her lifetime.

That official acts of the society, as well as those of individual members, have been guided by these bogus messages from Mahatmas.

That the exposure of them leaves the society absolutely destitute of any objective communication with the Mahatmas who are alleged to have founded and to watch over it, and of all other evidence of their existence.

That Mrs. Besant has taken a leading part in hushing up the facts of this exposure, and so securing the person whom she believes to have written the bogus documents in his tenure of the highest office but one in the society.

And that therefore Mrs. Besant herself and all her colleagues are in so far in the position of condoning the hoax, and are benefiting in one sense or another by the popular delusion which they have helped to propagate.

I shall show, finally, that the only alternative to this set of conclusions is another which would be even more discreditable to the personnel of the society, and even more fatal to its continued existence on its present basis.


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of Justice Thomas


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of Justice Gorsuch


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of Justice Kavanaugh


text:
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 cured, and soon afterwards, having changed my dress, I returned with the commissary of police and my agents to the house of the amateur of glasses, who did not expect me so soon. He did not know me at first, and it was only at the termination of our search, that, examining me more closely, he said to me:—

"I think I recognise you, are you not a cook?"

"Yes, sir," I replied; "I am cook, tailor, hatter, looking-glass setter, and, moreover, a spy, at your service."

My coolness so much disconcerted him, that he could not utter another word.

This gentleman was named Alexandre Paruitte. Besides the two glasses, and two chimeras in gilt bronze, which he had stolen from the Palais Bourbon, many other articles were found in his apartments, the produce of various robberies. The inspectors who had accompanied me in this expedition undertook to conduct Paruitte to the depot, but, on the way, were careless enough to allow him to escape, nor was it until ten days afterwards that I contrived to get sight of him, at the gate of the ambassador of his highness the Sultan Mahmoud, and I apprehended him at the moment he got into the carriage of a Turk, who apparently had sold his odalisques.

I am still at a loss to explain how, in spite of obstacles, which the most expert robbers judged insurmountable, Paruitte effected the robbery which twice compelled me to see him. He was steadfast in his assertion of having no companions, for on his trial, when sentenced to irons and imprisonment, no indication, not even the slightest, could be elicited, encouraging the idea that he had any participators.

About the time when Paruitte carried off the glasses from the Palais Bourbon, some thieves effected an entrance in the Rue de Richelieu, No. 17, in the hotel de Valois, when they carried off considerable property, belonging to Marechal Boucher, valued at thirty thousand francs. All was fish that came to net, from the


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of Justice Sotomayor


text: Students for Fair Admissions v. President and Fellows of Harvard College/Opinion of Justice Jackson


text:
Page:FACT SHEET Competitive Infrastructure Funding Opportunities for Local Governments.pdf/5

 #Regional Clean Hydrogen Hubs – This new Department of Energy program will provide $8 billion to support the development of at least four regional clean hydrogen hubs to improve clean hydrogen production, processing, delivery, storage, and end use. Applications for funding will open in the Summer of 2022.
 * 1) Community Wildfire Defense Grant Program – This new $1 billion program at the Department of Agriculture will provide grants to communities at risk from wildfire to develop or revise their community wildfire protection plans and carry out projects described within those plans. It will include a mix of formula and competitive funds. Applications are expected to open early in 2023.

Broadband, Cyber, and Other Programs

 * 1) ReConnect Program – This existing Department of Agriculture program will provide almost $2 billion in loans and grants for projects that provide broadband in rural areas. Applications will likely open in the 3rd quarter of 2022 (and towns in rural areas can apply to the current $1.15B in loans and grant funding, application deadline: February 22, 2022).
 * 2) Middle Mile Grants Program – This new $1 billion program at the Department of Commerce provides grants for the construction, improvement or acquisition of middle mile broadband infrastructure. Applications will likely open during the second quarter of 2022.
 * 3) State and Local Cybersecurity Grant Program – This new $1 billion program at the Department of Homeland Security makes available federal funds to state, local, and tribal governments to address cybersecurity risks and cybersecurity threats to information systems that they own or operate. Applications will likely open during the third quarter of 2022.
 * 4) Smart Grid Investment Grant Program and Energy Sector Operational Support For Cyber Resilience Program – These two Department of Energy programs will provide $3 billion and $50 million, respectively, for electric utilities, including municipal and co-operative utilities, to modernize the electricity grid and increase resilience to cybersecurity threats. Applications for the Smart Grid program are expected to be open by the end of 2022, and applications for the Cyber Resilience program are expected to be open in the Summer of 2022.
 * 5) Water & Groundwater Storage and Conveyance – This existing $1 billion program at the Department of Interior provides funding for water storage projects with capacity between 2,000 and 30,000 acre-feet – as well as projects


text:
Page:FACT SHEET Competitive Infrastructure Funding Opportunities for Local Governments.pdf/4

 under their states. Applications for FY22 are expected to open no later than September 30th, 2022.
 * 1) Flood Mitigation Assistance – $3.5 billion from this existing FEMA program can be used for projects that reduce or eliminate the risk of repetitive flood damage to buildings insured by the National Flood Insurance Program. FY21 applications are open until January 28th, 2022. Communities will apply as sub-applicants under their states. Applications for FY22 are expected to open no later than September 30th, 2022.
 * 2) Brownfields Remediation Program – This existing EPA program will provide $1.2 billion in grants and technical assistants to communities to assess and safely clean-up contaminated properties and offer job training programs. Communities are currently able to request funding for Targeted Brownfields Assessments through their regional EPA office. Additional competitive funding opportunities will be announced this spring.
 * 3) Energy Efficiency and Conservation Block Grants – This Department of Energy block grant program will provide $550 million to states, local governments, and tribes for projects that reduce energy use, increase energy efficiency, and cut pollution. The first funding opportunity is expected for release in the Fall of 2022.
 * 4) Grants for Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy Improvements in Schools – This new Department of Energy Program will provide $500 million for local government education agencies and nonprofit partners to make energy efficiency, renewable energy, and clean vehicle upgrades and improvements at public schools. The opportunity to apply for funding is expected to be open in the Fall of 2022.
 * 5) Energy Improvement in Rural or Remote Areas – This new Department of Energy program will provide $1 billion to entities in rural or remote areas (defined as cities, towns, or unincorporated areas with fewer than 10,000 inhabitants) to increase environmental protection from the impacts of energy use and improve resilience, reliability, safety, and availability of energy. Applications for funding are expected to be open in the Fall of 2022.
 * 6) Grants for Energy Efficiency and Resilience Code Adoption – This Department of Energy program will provide $225 million to state energy agencies, in partnership with local building code agencies, codes and standards developers, utilities, and other entities, to enable sustained, cost-effective implementation of updated building energy codes to save customers money on their energy bills. Applications for funding are expected to be open by the end of 2022.


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King of the Island of the Mighty, Bran the son of Lear, had his court at Harlech, and one day he sat upon the rock of Harlech, looking over the sea. With him were his brothers, Manawythan, and Nissyen the peaceful and Evnissyen the quarrelsome, and a company of nobles worthy of a king. While they sat, they saw ships coming over the sea from Ireland. They were thirteen ships, and the wind carried them rapidly towards Harlech. As they drew near the first of them showed a signal of peace, a shield lifted up with the point upwards above the side of the ship, and they sent men to the land. They saluted Bran from the shore, and he saluted them back again. Sitting on the rock he asked them the name of their lord, and why he came, and whether he would land.

'We are from Matholwch the King of Ireland,' they said; 'He comes to ask Bronwen the daughter of Lear to be his wife.'

Matholwch landed and Bran received him with honour and joy. Next day they held a council and it was decided that Bronwen should marry the King of Ireland. They went for the marriage feast to Aberfrow, Matholwch and the Irish sailing round the coast, Bran and his court riding on the cliffs above. Bran and Bronwen and the other children of Lear, and Matholwch and the nobles of the two kings, feasted at Aberfrow. No house was roomy enough for Bran, so they feasted in a tent with a roof like the sky; and when it seemed pleasanter to sleep than to carouse they went to rest.


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 But Evnissyen was angry because Bronwen had been given to Matholwch without his consent. 'There could be no greater insult,' he said, and in his anger he hacked and hewed with his sword among the horses of the Irish. When Matholwch heard that his horses had been mutilated he took it as an insult. His attendants said: 'It was an insult and it was meant for an insult.' To him it was marvellous that they should insult him after giving him Bronwen for a wife, but he went down towards his fleet with indignation. Bran, hearing of his going, sent after him, and the messengers asked Matholwch the cause of this haste. When they heard it, they said: 'This was not done with the knowledge of the king. The dishonour is greater to Bran than to thee.' Matholwch replied: 'But he cannot recall the insult.'

The messengers hastened back to tell Bran. In a little time he sent others to offer a sound horse for each mutilated one, a staff of silver as large and tall as Matholwch himself, and an unbounded apology. Matholwch and his council accepted this and returned to the court.

They sat down again to feast, Bran and Matholwch and their companies. Matholwch seemed not so cheerful as before to Bran, who thought this might be because of the small atonement for the insult. 'O man,' said Bran, 'thou dost not discourse to-night so cheerfully as thou wast wont. And if it be because of the smallness of the atonement, thou shalt add thereunto whatsoever thou mayst choose, and to-morrow I will pay thee the horses.'

'Lord,' said he, 'Heaven reward thee.'

'And I will increase the atonement,' said Bran, 'for I will give unto thee a cauldron, the property of which


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 is, that if one of thy men be slain to-day, and be cast therein, to-morrow he will be as well as ever he was at the best, except that he will not regain his speech.' And thereupon Matholwch gave him great thanks, and very joyful was he for that cause.

In the morning they gave Matholwch his horses.

When Bran and Matholwch again sat together, the King of Ireland asked where the cauldron had come from. 'I had it,' said Bran, 'from Llassar Llaesgyvnewid and his wife, who came hither after escaping from the red-hot Iron House in Ireland. It is strange that thou shouldst know nothing of this.' 'But,' said Matholwch: 'I do know. I was hunting in Ireland beside the Lake of the Cauldron, when I saw a yellow-haired man, hideous and huge, coming out of the lake with a cauldron upon his back. After him came a woman of twice his bulk. They greeted me, and because the woman was before long to be delivered of a child I took them back with me and maintained them. But they were a terror to my people, with their violence, and either they must go or I must lose my kingdom. They would not go of their own free will and could not be driven out. So a chamber of iron was built. Coals were heaped high all round it. Llassar and his wife were served with plenty of meat and drink, and when they were very full they were thrust into the chamber and shut in. The coal was set on fire. When the walls were red hot they held a council in the middle of the floor. They waited until the iron was white hot: then Llassar burst through the wall and his wife followed him out. Thus they came over unto thee. How didst thou receive them?'

'Their offspring are now scattered all over my country. They prosper everywhere and fortify their abodes with men and arms of the best that were ever seen.'


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 At the end of the days of feasting, Matholwch went back to Ireland with Bronwen and the silver staff and the cauldron. Men in Ireland were glad of their coming, and Bronwen gave them many great gifts. But the story of the insult to Matholwch rankled in men's hearts. Bronwen bore him a son who was called Gwern, but they would not let Matholwch forget the story. At last they drove Bronwen into the kitchen to be a cook, and made the butcher give her every day a blow on the ear for punishment. For three years also, by their persuasion, Matholwch forbade all trade with Wales and ordered all who came over from Wales to be imprisoned.

In her kitchen Bronwen reared a starling secretly. She taught the starling to speak; she taught it what Bran her brother was like. Then she wrote a letter telling her woes and fastened it under the bird's wing, and sent it towards the Island of the Mighty.

One day, as Bran was at council, the starling lighted upon his shoulder and ruffled its feathers so that the letter was seen, and men knew that the bird had been trained. Bran read the letter with great sorrow at the pitiful news of Bronwen. He sent messengers to all parts of the island to summon a full council. He told them the story of Bronwen's suffering and they resolved to go to Ireland, leaving in charge of the land Caradoc the son of Bran, and six other chief men and their seven knights, and the young page Pendaran.

When the fleet came to shallow water Bran stepped overboard and strode among the ships towards Ireland. The swineherds of Matholwch saw him. 'Lord,' said they, hurrying to their master, 'we have marvellous news. We have seen a forest upon the sea, and a hill beside it, and these things are moving.' Matholwch knew nothing of this, and, 'Verily,' he said. 'only Bronwen might


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Page:R L Stevenson 1917 Familiar studies of men and books.djvu/88

 hood an obstinate battle against poor soil, bad seed, and inclement seasons, wading deep in Ayrshire mosses, guiding the plough in the furrow wielding "the thresher's weary flingin'-tree;" and his education, his diet, and his pleasures, had been those of a Scotch countryman. Now he stepped forth suddenly among the polite and learned. We can see him as he then was, in his boots and buckskins, his blue coat and waistcoat striped with buff and blue, like a farmer in his Sunday best; the heavy ploughman's figure firmly planted on its burly legs; his face full of sense and shrewdness, and with a somewhat melancholy air of thought, and his large dark eye "literally glowing" as he spoke. "I never saw such another eye in a human head," says Walter Scott, "though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time." With men, whether they were lords or omnipotent critics, his manner was plain, dignified, and free from bashfulness or affectation. If he made a slip, he had the social courage to pass on and refrain from explanation. He was not embarrassed in this society, because he read and judged the men; he could spy snobbery in a titled lord; and, as for the critics, he dismissed their system in an epigram. "These gentlemen," said he, "remind me of some spinsters in my country who spin their thread so fine that it is neither fit for weft nor


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 woof." Ladies, on the other hand, surprised him; he was scarce commander of himself in their society; he was disqualified by his acquired nature as a Don Juan; and he, who had been so much at his ease with country lasses, treated the town dames to an extreme of deference. One lady, who met him at a ball, gave Chambers a speaking sketch of his demeanour. "His manner was not prepossessing—scarcely, she thinks, manly or natural. It seemed as if he affected a rusticity or landertness, so that when he said the music was 'bonnie, bonnie,' it was like the expression of a child." These would be company manners; and doubtless on a slight degree of intimacy the affectation would grow less. And his talk to women had always "a turn either to the pathetic or humorous, which engaged the attention particularly."

The Edinburgh magnates (to conclude this episode at once) behaved well to Burns from first to last. Were heaven-born genius to revisit us in similar guise, I am not venturing too far when I say that he need expect neither so warm a welcome nor such solid help. Although Burns was only a peasant, and one of no very elegant reputation as to morals, he was made welcome to their homes. They gave him a great deal of good advice, helped him to some five hundred pounds


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 of ready money, and got him, as soon as he asked it, a place in the Excise. Burns, on his part, bore the elevation with perfect dignity; and with perfect dignity returned, when the time had come, into a country privacy of life. His powerful sense never deserted him, and from the first he recognised that his Edinburgh popularity was but an ovation and the affair of a day. He wrote a few letters in a high-flown, bombastic vein of gratitude; but in practice he suffered no man to intrude upon his self-respect. On the other hand, he never turned his back, even for a moment, on his old associates; and he was always ready to sacrifice an acquaintance to a friend, although the acquaintance were a duke. He would be a bold man who should promise similar conduct in equally exacting circumstances. It was, in short, an admirable appearance on the stage of life—socially successful, intimately self-respecting, and like a gentleman from first to last.

In the present study, this must only be taken by the way, while we return to Burns's love affairs. Even on the road to Edinburgh he had seized upon the opportunity of a flirtation, and had carried the "battering" so far that when next he moved from town, it was to steal two days with this anonymous fair one. The exact importance to Burns of this affair may be gathered from the


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 song in which he commemorated its occurrence. "I love the dear lassie," he sings, "because she loves me;" or, in the tongue of prose: "Finding an opportunity, I did not hesitate to profit by it, and even now, if it returned, I should not hesitate to profit by it again." A love thus founded has no interest for mortal man. Meantime, early in the winter, and only once, we find him regretting Jean in his correspondence. "Because"—such is his reason—"because he does not think he will ever meet so delicious an armful again;" and then, after a brief excursion into verse, he goes straight on to describe a new episode in the voyage of discovery with the daughter of a Lothian farmer for a heroine. I must ask the reader to follow all these references to his future wife; they are essential to the comprehension of Burns's character and fate. In June, we find him back at Mauchline, a famous man. There, the Armour family greeted him with a "mean, servile compliance," which increased his former disgust. Jean was not less compliant; a second time the poor girl submitted to the fascination of the man whom she did not love, and whom she had so cruelly insulted little more than a year ago; and, though Burns took advantage of her weakness, it was in the ugliest and most cynical spirit, and with a heart absolutely indifferent. Judge of this by a letter written some


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 twenty days after his return—a letter to my mind among the most degrading in the whole collection—a letter which seems to have been inspired by a boastful, libertine bagman. "I am afraid," it goes, "I have almost ruined one source, the principal one, indeed, of my former happiness—the eternal propensity I always had to fall in love. My heart no more glows with feverish rapture; I have no paradisiacal evening interviews." Even the process of "battering" has failed him, you perceive. Still he had some one in his eye—a lady, if you please, with a fine figure and elegant manners, and who had "seen the politest quarters in Europe." "I frequently visited her," he writes, "and after passing regularly the intermediate degrees between the distant formal bow and the familiar grasp round the waist, I ventured, in my careless way, to talk of friendship in rather ambiguous terms; and after her return to, I wrote her in the same terms. Miss, construing my remarks further than even I intended, flew off in a tangent of female dignity and reserve, like a mounting lark in an April morning; and wrote me an answer which measured out very completely what an immense way I had to travel before I could reach the climate of her favours. But I am an old hawk at the sport, and wrote her such a cool, deliberate, prudent reply, as brought my bird


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 know.' Messengers were sent to her, telling her what they had seen. 'What is the forest upon the sea?' they asked. 'It is the ships of the Island of the Mighty,' she said. 'And what is that hill amongst them?' they asked. 'It is Bran, my brother,' she answered; 'he is walking in the shallow water where no ship could carry him.'

Matholwch and the warriors and chief men of Ireland took hasty counsel. They fled over a river, breaking down the bridge behind them. The invaders could not follow until Bran himself lay across the river for them to go over. 'He who will be chief,' he said, 'let him be a bridge also.' When they saw this, the enemy knew that it was useless to fly from Bran. They sent messengers to him, pleading, 'Matholwch has given the Kingdom of Ireland to Gwern, thy sister's son. Let this atone for the insult to Bronwen. As to Matholwch, he will dwell wherever thou choosest, here or in the Island of the Mighty.' Bran said, 'Shall I not have the kingdom myself?' The messengers hurried back to Matholwch, and implored him to send a more agreeable message to Bran.

Matholwch consulted his friends.

'My friends,' said Matholwch, 'what may be your counsel? ' 'Lord.' said they, 'there is no other counsel than this alone. Bran was never known to be within a house; make, therefore, a house that will hold him and the men of the Island of the Mighty on the one side, and thyself and thy host on the other; and give over thy kingdom to his will, and do him homage. So by reason of the honour thou doest him in making him a house, whereas he never before had a house to hold him, he will make peace with thee.' So the messengers went back to Bran, bearing this message.


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 from her aerial towerings, pop, down to my foot, like Corporal Trim's hat." I avow a carnal longing, after this transcription, to buffet the Old Hawk about the ears. There is little question that to this lady he must have repeated his addresses, and that he was by her (Miss Chalmers) eventually, though not at all unkindly, rejected. One more detail to characterise the period. Six months after the date of this letter, Burns, back in Edinburgh, is served with a writ in meditatione fugæ, on behalf of some Edinburgh fair one, probably of humble rank, who declared an intention of adding to his family.

About the beginning of December (1787), a new period opens in the story of the poet's random affections. He met at a tea party one Mrs. Agnes M'Lehose, a married woman of about his own age, who, with her two children, had been deserted by an unworthy husband. She had wit, could use her pen, and had read Werther with attention. Sociable, and even somewhat frisky, there was a good, sound, human kernel in the woman; a warmth of love, strong dogmatic religious feeling, and a considerable, but not authoritative, sense of the proprieties. Of what biographers refer to daintily as "her somewhat voluptuous style of beauty," judging from the silhouette in Mr. Scott Douglas's invaluable edition,


text:
Loafer

 * "The Loafer" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark
 * "The Loafer" (1921), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark

title: Loafer


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 the reader will be fastidious if he does not approve. Take her for all in all, I believe she was the best woman Burns encountered. The pair took a fancy for each other on the spot; Mrs. M'Lehose, in her turn, invited him to tea; but the poet, in his character of the Old Hawk, preferred a tête-à-tête, excused himself at the last moment, and offered a visit instead. An accident confined him to his room for nearly a month, and this led to the famous Clarinda and Sylvander correspondence. It was begun in simple sport; they are already at their fifth or sixth exchange, when Clarinda writes: "It is really curious so much fun passing between two persons who saw each other only once;" but it is hardly safe for a man and woman in the flower of their years to write almost daily, and sometimes in terms too ambiguous, sometimes in terms too plain, and generally in terms too warm, for mere acquaintance. The exercise partakes a little of the nature of battering, and danger may be apprehended when next they meet. It is difficult to give any account of this remarkable correspondence; it is too far away from us, and perhaps, not yet far enough, in point of time and manner; the imagination is baffled by these stilted literary utterances, warming, in bravura passages, into downright truculent nonsense. Clarinda has one famous sentence in which she bids Sylvander


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 connect the thought of his mistress with the changing phases of the year; it was enthusiastically admired by the swain, but on the modern mind produces mild amazement and alarm. "Oh, Clarinda," writes Burns, "shall we not meet in a state—some yet unknown state—of being, where the lavish hand of Plenty shall minister to the highest wish of Benevolence, and where the chill north wind of Prudence shall never blow over the flowery field of Enjoyment?" The design may be that of an Old Hawk, but the style is more suggestive of a Bird of Paradise. It is sometimes hard to fancy they are not gravely making fun of each other as they write. Religion, poetry, love, and charming sensibility, are the current topics. "I am delighted, charming Clarinda, with your honest enthusiasm for religion," writes Burns; and the pair entertained a fiction that this was their "favourite subject." "This is Sunday," writes the lady, "and not a word on our favourite subject. O fy 'divine Clarinda!'" I suspect, although quite unconsciously on the part of the lady, who was bent on his redemption, they but used the favourite subject as a stalking-horse. In the meantime, the sportive acquaintance was ripening steadily into a genuine passion. Visits took place, and then became frequent. Clarinda's friends were hurt and suspicious; her clergyman inter-


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 Bran accepted the offer, for Bronwen had pleaded with him, in fear lest he should lay waste the country.

The great house for Bran was built as if to last for ever. But the Irish were very crafty. They put brackets on each side of the hundred pillars in the house, and placed a leathern bag on each of them, and in each bag a warrior. Then Evnissyen came in before the host of the Island of the Mighty. He scanned the house with fierce and savage looks, and caught sight of the leathern bags around the pillars. 'What is in this bag?' asked he of one of the Irish. 'Meal, good soul,' said the man. And Evnissyen felt about it until he came to the warrior's head, and he squeezed the head until he felt his fingers meet together in the brain through the bone. And he left that one, and put his hand upon another, and asked what was therein. 'Meal,' said the Irishman. So he did the same to every one of them, until he had left alive, of all the two hundred men, only one; and coming to this last one, he asked what was there. 'Meal, good soul,' said the Irishman. And he felt about until he felt the head, and he squeezed that head as he had done the others; and though he found that the head of this one was armed, he left him not until he had killed him.

So the two hosts entered the house, the men of Ireland on one side and the men of the Island of the Mighty on the other. They sat down in peace, and Gwern the son of Bronwen was crowned King of Ireland. Thus the peace was confirmed. Then Bran called the boy to him, and he came, and his uncle kissed him. Manawythan called him and kissed him, and so did Nissyen. To each of them the boy ran up lovingly. 'Why does my nephew not come to me,' said Evnissyen, 'though he were not King of Ireland I would kiss him gladly.'