text: The Life and Work of Friedrich Engels/Chapter 15


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Proclamation 10196 of April 30, 2021

Public Service Recognition Week, 2021

By the President of the United States of America

A Proclamation

In the face of unprecedented challenges this past year, America’s dedicated public servants have risen to the moment—bringing strength, healing, and hope to their communities and to our Nation. Our public servants are a living reminder that, here in America, we take care of one another and leave no one behind. As we work to defeat the pandemic and rebuild our economy, it is more important than ever to recognize and reflect upon both our collective loss and our collective resilience. During Public Service Recognition Week, we celebrate and thank our public servants at the local, State, and Federal levels who exemplify dedication to the common good.

Public servants are the lifeblood of our democracy. They are our researchers and scientists, our front-line workers, our educators, our first responders, our election officials, and our military service members—among countless others. They are ordinary Americans who answer the call to do extraordinary things, giving their time—and, in some cases, risking or giving their lives—to make life better for all of us.

Throughout this week and beyond, my Administration will be shining a light on the individual and collective efforts of public servants at the local, State, Tribal, and Federal levels who unite us and help lead us through challenging times. In the toughest of circumstances and often at great personal sacrifice, our public servants tackle the most complex problems facing our communities. Whether developing public health guidance and working across agencies to safely reopen schools during the pandemic, partnering with the private sector to develop and distribute vaccines, keeping small businesses dreams alive, or combating natural disasters in their hometowns, public servants demonstrate their commitment to our Nation every day. It is our responsibility, in turn, to ensure that they are honored and protected.

Since taking office earlier this year, I have made it the policy of the United States to protect, empower, and rebuild the career Federal workforce. My Administration made employee safety a priority—directing agencies to create COVID–19 workplace safety plans and require mask-wearing, physical distancing, and other public health measures in Federal buildings and on Federal lands. I revoked several Executive Orders that undermined the foundations of civil service, worked to ensure the right of Federal employees to engage in collective bargaining, and created a new interagency task force to ensure that Federal employees engaged in scientific research and data collection are never subjected to political interference.

In addition, I have strengthened protections against discrimination for Federal employees, including discrimination on the basis of gender identity or sexual orientation. I have also asked the Director of the Office of Personnel Management to provide me with recommendations to promote a $15 per hour minimum wage for Federal employees, as well as recommendations for expanding the Federal Government’s policy of providing employees time off to vote. And this week, I signed an Executive Order that will increase the minimum wage for employees working on Federal contracts to $15 per hour.

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


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CHAPTER I.

In the days when Lord George Gordon became a Jew, and was suspected of insanity; when, out of respect for the prophecies, England denied her Jews every civic right except that of paying taxes; when the Gentleman's Magazine had ill words for the infidel alien; when Jewish marriages were invalid and bequests for Hebrew colleges void; when a prophet prophesying Primrose Day would have been set in the stocks, though Pitt inclined his private ear to Benjamin Goldsmid's views on the foreign loans—in those days, when Tevele Schiff was Rabbi in Israel, and Dr. de Falk, the Master of the Tetragrammaton, saint and Cabbalistic conjuror, flourished in Wellclose Square, and the composer of "The Death of Nelson" was a choir-boy in the Great Synagogue; Joseph Grobstock, pillar of the same, emerged one afternoon into the spring sunshine at the fag-end of the departing stream of worshippers. In his hand was a large canvas bag, and in his eye a twinkle.

There had been a special service of prayer and thanksgiving for the happy restoration of his Majesty's health, and the cantor had interceded tunefully with Providence on behalf of Royal George and "our most amiable Queen,


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23858 Together, as we strive to build, support, and continuously improve our public workforce, we recognize and celebrate the indispensable contributions our public servants make while protecting our communities, taking care of our neighbors, and helping us heal and build back better. It is the honor of my lifetime to serve our Nation alongside our public servants, who work tirelessly to improve the lives of Americans and people around the globe.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, JOSEPH R. BIDEN JR., President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim May 2 through May 8, 2021, as Public Service Recognition Week. I call upon all Americans to celebrate public servants and their contributions this week and throughout the year.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this thirtieth day of April, in the year of our Lord two thousand twenty-one, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and forty-fifth.

[FR Doc. 2021–09593 Filed 5–4–21; 8:45 am] Billing code 3295–F1–P


text: A Proclamation on Public Service Recognition Week, 2021


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early as September, 1918, Mr. Wilson, then President, made an effective appeal to the civilized world against the crimes, the "barbarism," the "mass terrorism" and the "indiscriminate slaughter" of the Bolshevists. He called for all civilized nations to withdraw their official representatives from Soviet Russia, and every civilized nation without exception responded to his call.

The reign of terror continues and in many respects has grown worse. Again and again the Bolshevist chiefs and assemblies have re-endorsed terrorism. At the second congress of the Communist Internationale, in the summer of 1920, Lenin declared that "no dictatorship of the proletariat is to be thought of without terror and violence against the bitter foes of the proletariat and the laboring masses." Let us remember that this international meeting is the highest Communist authority and the principles accepted there are binding until the next annual meeting, and that Lenin and his immediate associates reserve to themselves the right to define just who are to be regarded as "the bitter foes of the proletariat and the laboring masses."

Anybody Lenin and Trotzky desire to destroy they first label "bourgeois," but they are just as ready to apply this term to laboring men or their elected leaders


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 50 or to laboring agriculturists as they are to apply it to former employers. On October 5, 1920, Trotzky said:

An even stronger expression was used at the beginning of the Bolshevist rule by Latsis, one of the chiefs of the Extraordinary Commission, which is charged with putting the Red Terror into effect. In the organ called the Red Terror (November 1, 1918) Latsis wrote:

This description gives a good picture of the methods of the Red Terror, but the list of classes which were to be exterminated was soon extended to embrace all anti-Bolshevists, no matter whether they themselves were wage earners and no matter how many thousands or ten thousands of wage earners they represented. In a speech made on April 3, 1921, before the railway workers in Moscow Lenin stated that "the bourgeois class does not exist any more in Russia," and boasted


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Rh that it had been "completely destroyed" by the Bolshevists. We may point out that this is merely a terrible boast, for it is well known that after slaughtering the "bourgeoisie" for a year or more Lenin publicly acknowledged that he not only needed the experts in this class but was ready to retain them at very high salaries. But in view of their previous treatment and the treatment of their relatives and friends we can be assured that these bourgeois, far from being good Bolshevists, maintain their former views and are waiting for a chance at revenge.

Trotzky has tried to justify mass terror (from signed article in Izvestia of January 10, 1919, under title "Military Specialists and the Red Army"):

The conspirators referred to in this paragraph are all those who stand for the right of the Russian people to elect their own representative government in the place of the tyranny that is now imposed upon them; the


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 52 "saboteurs" are the professional men and experts whose wills could not be successfully forced.

In a letter to British labor dated May 30, 1920, Lenin, after denouncing the democracy of the British Labor Party, their pacifism, etc., says of its leaders: "The sooner they share the fate of Kerensky, the Mensheviks and Social Revolutionists in Russia" the better. "What this fate was we shall see below. Lenin then continues:

Here is a definite official statement by the Bolshevist chief that a regularly elected labor leader may be regarded as 99 per cent, bourgeois—and he is often so regarded for purposes of imprisonment or execution.

The Bolshevist Czar recently issued a ukase saying that prisoners belonging to all active anti-Bolshevist groups would be held as all bound together as hostages for the lives of the Bolshevist chiefs—referring back to the butchery of hundreds of such hostages after the assassination of the bloody Uritzky and the attack


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 Rh on Lenin in 1918. Here are the words of the decree as carried in the official Izvestia on November 30, 1920:

In order fully to realize what this means let us quote from the appeal to the Socialists of the world by Martoff, leader of the Russian Social Democratic Labor Party an appeal that has been endorsed by the well-known syndicalist Merrheim, head of the French Metal Workers and one of the leaders of the Conféderation Génèrale du Travail. Referring to the above ukase, Martoff, who is well and favorably known by the entire labor movement of Europe, writes:

Let all who would take this warning lightly remember the fatal experiment which has already been made


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 54 in Soviet Russia. In September, 1918, after the murder of Uritzky, Chief of the Petrograd police, and the attempt to shoot Lenin, the Soviet Government declared all the anti-Bolsheviks to be hostages in the event of further assassinations, and at the same time, as a reprisal for the acts of terrorism already committed, ordered a number of these "hostages" in several towns to be shot.

It is impossible to estimate the number of men and women killed at that time. The general public commotion forced the Government to conceal the true extent of the hideous massacre after the publication of the first lists of victims. But from these lists it is known that in Petrograd 512 people were shot, 152 in Penza, 41 in Nijni-Novgorod, 30 in Smolensk, 29 in Moscow, 6 in Mojaisk, 4 in Morshansk, 7 in Nijni-Lvoff, and 7 in Schemlara. The last echo of this madness was the proclamation of the Petrozavodsk (in Northern Russia) Extraordinary Commission that it shot 14 bourgeois hostages as a revenge for the murder of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht!

Just after the above-mentioned attempts on the lives of Lenin and other Bolsheviks, the Social-Revolutionary party stated officially that it had nothing to do with these assassinations; but this statement did not prevent the Bolsheviks shooting down like dogs members of the Social-Revolutionary party. The terrorist madness of the Bolsheviks, once let loose, ignored the difference between the different sections of their political opponents. In Petrograd they shot the metal worker Krakovsky, a member of the Social-Democratic Labor Party; three members of the same party in Ribinsk, leaders of local trade unions (Ramin, Sokoloff and Levin); and in Nijni-Novgorod the secretary of the local party committee, Comrade Ridnik.

The great majority of the victims belonged to the bourgeois class, and were not mixed up with politics; they were arrested, not because of some crime com-


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 Rh mitted, but as "suspicious persons" whom it was necessary to isolate. Men and women, boys and aged people—all were shot because two men, political fanatics, had plotted the murder of two leaders of the Communist party.

The official execution and wholesale butchery of hostages referred to by Martoff is boastfully avowed in the official Soviet pamphlet by which the Bolshevists have sought to sum up and popularize the Red Terror and the Extraordinary Commission. This pamphlet, written by Latsis, is printed by the Soviet Printing Office in Moscow, 1920. As to the 1918 butchery, Latsis in Chapter 5 of the pamphlet declares:

The Bolshevist remedy for insufficient productivity on the part of labor, known as sabotage, is thus summarized in Chapter 3 of this illuminating document:

Those who were practicing sabotage were (either) shot to death or imprisoned by us, but nevertheless up to this time they have eluded us in large numbers and destroyed our apparatus and transports. Such work is nothing else than the same counter-revolution. It was so regarded by the Extraordinary Commission,


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 56 and those guilty of sabotage were punished without mercy. The Extraordinary Commission threw its best forces into the fight against this manifestation, and is now working in various institutions. ''There is but one way to get rid of this pestilence—burn it out with a hot iron. And that is what the Extraordinary Commission is doing.''

We now come to another class of crime punished by execution without trial or any other process of law, viz., the crime of affiliation with the socialist and labor parties which think they have a right to a voice in the government in proportion to their numerical support. This is not the Bolshevist view. And the punishment for the effort to institute either a democratic or a non-Bolshevist socialist government of any character is likely to be death. We quote the following from Chapter 4 of the above mentioned official pamphlet:

But there is still another kind of counter-revolutionists—those who are such because they do not think. These are people who not seldom desire the triumph of the working class, but do not understand how this is to be accomplished. This is the whole Socialist Party, entering into agreement with the enemies of the working class, the bourgeoisie. There are several such parties among us; Social-Revolutionists of the Right, Social-Revolutionists of the Left, and the Mensheviks.

They do not believe in the strength of the working class and therefore desire to trade with their class enemy, the bourgeoisie. They forget that civil war is a war not for life but to the death; a war in which prisoners are not taken and no compromises made, but opponents are killed. As there can be no amity between wolves and lambs, so there can be no conciliation between the bourgeoisie and the workmen. You may beat the wolf


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 Rh as you will but he will still remain savage; so the bourgeoisie does not change his nature.

We must recall in this connection that the civil war is looked upon by the Bolshevists as likely to last a generation or more and that all non-Bolshevist working men are labelled "bourgeois."

Without counting irregular executions, assassinations, massacres and military killings of many different kinds, the Extraordinary Commission, in the pamphlet quoted, confesses that it executed 2,024 persons for the sole fact of belonging to an anti-Bolshevist organization—such organizations, as we have said, being always labelled for Bolshevist purposes as counter-revolutionary or bourgeoisie. This does not include 3,082 persons executed for insurrection and 455 for inciting insurrection. The immense scope of the Extraordinary Commission and the use of the death penalty for offenses for which it has not been used in civilized countries for centuries, is shown in Chapter 2 of the pamphlet quoted:

The sphere of the labors of the Extraordinary Commission was determined by the activities of the counter-revolutionary elements; but, as there was no domain of life into which the counter-revolutionists had not intruded themselves, and where their destructive work was not manifested, the Extraordinary Commission often had to enter quite positively into all phases of life: stores, transportation, Red army, navy, militia, schools, consulates, industry, assessments, etc.

But the Extraordinary Commission had to interest itself not only in direct counter-revolutionary work. There are acts committed by no means intended cer-


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12 to the driver, who was wedged in the doorway with a huge mail-bag on his shoulders. "We've got to Gulyaevsky Hill."

"Yes we're a long way out." Jerking out these words like a hoarse sigh, the driver went out and soon after returned with another bag, then went out once more and this time brought the postman's sword on a big belt, of the pattern of that long flat blade with which Judith is portrayed by the bedside of Holofernes in cheap woodcuts. Laying the bags along the wall, he went out into the outer room, sat down there and lighted his pipe.

"Perhaps you'd like some tea after your journey?" Raïssa inquired.

"How can we sit drinking tea?" said the postman, frowning. "We must make haste and get warm, and then set off, or we shall be late for the mail train. We'll stay ten minutes and then get on our way. Only be so good as to show us the way."

"What an infliction it is, this weather!" sighed Raïssa.

"H'm, yes Who may you be?"

"We? We live here, by the church We belong to the clergy There lies my husband. Savély, get up and say good-evening! This used to be a separate parish till eighteen months ago. Of course, when the gentry lived here there were more people, and it was worth while to have the services. But now the gentry have gone, and I need not tell you there's nothing for the clergy to live on. The nearest village is Markovka, and that's over three


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Rh miles away. Savély is on the retired list now, and has got the watchman's job; he has to look after the church"

And the postman was immediately informed that if Savély were to go to the General's lady and ask her for a letter to the bishop, he would be given a good berth. "But he doesn't go to the General's lady because he is lazy and afraid of people We belong to the clergy all the same " added Raïssa.

"What do you live on?" asked the postman.

"There's a kitchen garden and a meadow belonging to the church. Only we don't get much from that," sighed Raïssa. The old skinflint, Father Nikodim, from the next village celebrates here on St. Nicolas' Day in the winter and on St. Nicolas' Day in the summer, and for that he takes almost all the crops for himself. There's no one to stick up for us!"

"You are lying," Savély growled hoarsely. "Father Nikodim is a saintly soul, a luminary of the Church; and if he does take it, it's the regulation!"

"You've a cross one!" said the postman, with a grin. "Have you been married long?"

"It was three years ago the last Sunday before Lent. My father was sexton here in the old days, and when the time came for him to die, he went to the Consistory and asked them to send some unmarried man to marry me that I might keep the place. So I married him."

"Aha, so you killed two birds with one stone!"


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 58 tainly to injure the Soviet authority, but simply for personal advantage without considering the consequences. Such are speculation, crimes in office (in part), banditry, and desertion.

But as such acts do no less harm to the Soviet authority than the open counter-revolutionary manifestations, they were followed up in the same manneras the rest.

For the sake of convenience in assimilating and mastering all the (details of the) immense work performed by the All-Russian Extraordinary Commission, we present it to the reader in the same category which in the main was pursued in the course of the work itself, and in the same order in which it developed, namely:

The use of the expression "rich peasant" needs comment. The peasant who is resisting the Bolshevists is called by them for the purposes of execution "rich." It is needless to say that there are no rich or well-to-do peasants in Russia after all the economic degeneration of the past ten years, and especially in view of four years of Bolshevist persecution and attack on all peasants who were well enough off to muster up any effective resistance.

The attitude to the peasantry is indicated in other Bolshevist documents as, for instance, the following


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14 said the postman, looking at Savély's back. "Got wife and job together."

Savély wriggled his leg impatiently and moved closer to the wall. The postman moved away from the table, stretched, and sat down on the mail-bag. After a moment's thought he squeezed the bags with his hands, shifted his sword to the other side, and lay down with one foot touching the floor.

"It's a dog's life," he muttered, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "I wouldn't wish a wild Tatar such a life."

Soon everything was still. Nothing was audible except the sniffing of Savély and the slow, even breathing of the sleeping postman, who uttered a deep prolonged "h-h-h" at every breath. From time to time there was a sound like a creaking wheel in his throat, and his twitching foot rustled against the bag.

Savély fidgeted under the quilt and looked round slowly. His wife was sitting on the stool, and with her hands pressed against her cheeks was gazing at the postman's face. Her face was immovable, like the face of some one frightened and astonished.

"Well, what are you gaping at?" Savély whispered angrily.

"What is it to you? Lie down!" answered his wife without taking her eyes off the flaxen head.

Savély angrily puffed all the air out of his chest and turned abruptly to the wall. Three minutes later he turned over restlessly again, knelt up on the bed, and with his hands on the pillow looked


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Rh askance at his wife. She was still sitting motionless, staring at the visitor. Her cheeks were pale and her eyes were glowing with a strange fire. The sexton cleared his throat, crawled on his stomach off the bed, and going up to the postman, put a handkerchief over his face.

"What's that for?" asked his wife.

"To keep the light out of his eyes."

"Then put out the light!"

Savély looked distrustfully at his wife, put out his lips towards the lamp, but at once thought better of it and clasped his hands.

"Isn't that devilish cunning?" he exclaimed.

"Ah! Is there any creature slyer than womenkind?"

"Ah, you long-skirted devil!" hissed his wife, frowning with vexation. "You wait a bit!"

And settling herself more comfortably, she stared at the postman again.

It did not matter to her that his face was covered. She was not so much interested in his face as in his whole appearance, in the novelty of this man. His chest was broad and powerful, his hands were slender and well formed, and his graceful, muscular legs were much comelier than Savély's stumps. There could be no comparison, in fact.

"Though I am a long-skirted devil," Savély said after a brief interval, "they've no business to sleep here It's government work; we shall have to answer for keeping them. If you carry the letters, carry them, you can't go to sleep Hey! you!" Savély shouted into the outer room. "You, driver.


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16 What's your name? Shall I show you the way? Get up: postmen mustn't sleep!"

And Savély, thoroughly roused, ran up to the postman and tugged him by the sleeve.

"Hey, your honour, if you must go, go; and if you don't, it's not the thing Sleeping won't do."

The postman jumped up, sat down, looked with blank eyes round the hut, and lay down again.

"But when are you going?" Savély pattered away. "That's what the post is for—to get there in good time, do you hear? I'll take you."

The postman opened his eyes. Warmed and relaxed by his first sweet sleep, and not yet quite awake, he saw as through a mist the white neck and the immovable, alluring eyes of the sexton's wife. He closed his eyes and smiled as though he had been dreaming it all.

"Come, how can you go in such weather!" he heard a soft feminine voice; "you ought to have a sound sleep and it would do you good!"

"And what about the post?" said Savély anxiously. "Who's going to take the post? Are you going to take it, pray, you?"

The postman opened his eyes again, looked at the play of the dimples on Raïssa's face, remembered where he was, and understood Savély. The thought that he had to go out into the cold darkness sent a chill shudder all down him, and he winced.

"I might sleep another five minutes," he said, yawning. "I shall be late, anyway"

"We might be just in time," came a voice from


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Rh the outer room. "All days are not alike; the train may be late for a bit of luck."

The postman got up, and stretching lazily began putting on his coat.

Savély positively neighed with delight when he saw his visitors were getting ready to go.

"Give us a hand," the driver shouted to him as he lifted up a mail-bag.

The sexton ran out and helped him drag the postbags into the yard. The postman began undoing the knot in his hood. The sexton's wife gazed into his eyes, and seemed trying to look right into his soul.

"You ought to have a cup of tea " she said.

"I wouldn't say no but, you see, they're getting ready," he assented. "We are late, anyway."

"Do stay," she whispered, dropping her eyes and touching him by the sleeve.

The postman got the knot undone at last and flung the hood over his elbow, hesitating. He felt it comfortable standing by Raïssa.

"What a neck you've got! " And he touched her neck with two fingers. Seeing that she did not resist, he stroked her neck and shoulders. "I say, you are "

"You'd better stay have some tea."

"Where are you putting it?" The driver's voice could be heard outside. "Lay it crossways."

"You'd better stay Hark how the wind howls."

And the postman, not yet quite awake, not yet


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 as permissible. Yet my struggle for insight was still confined to the circle of the understanding, and led me, while reading such writings as those of Strauss, Feuerbach, and Bruno Bauer, only deeper into the blind alley of doubt.

I was firmly convinced that God has denied to man the possibility of true knowledge; that it is presumption to claim to understand the will and plans of the Lord of the World; that the individual must await in submission the judgment that his Creator will pass upon him in death, and that the will of God becomes known to us on earth solely through conscience, which He has given us as a special organ for feeling our way through the gloom of the world. That I found no peace in these views I need not say. Many an hour have I spent in disconsolate depression, thinking that my existence and that of others is purposeless and unprofitable—perchance only a casual product of creation, coming and going like dust from rolling wheels.

About four years ago I came into close companionship, for the first time since my school-days, with Moritz Blankenburg, and found in him, what I had never had till then in my life, a friend; but the warm zeal of his love strove in vain to give me by persuasion and discussion what I lacked—faith. But through Moritz I made acquaintance with the Triglaf family and the social circle around it, and found in it people who made me ashamed that, with the scanty light of my understanding, I had undertaken to investigate things which such superior intellects accepted as true and holy with childlike trust. I saw that the members of this circle were, in their outward life, almost perfect models of what I wished to be. That confidence and peace dwelt in them did not surprise me, for I had never doubted that these were companions of belief; but belief cannot be had for the asking, and I thought I must wait submissively to see whether it would come to me. I soon felt at home in that circle, and was conscious of a satisfaction that I had not before experienced—a family life that included me, almost a home.


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 I was meanwhile brought into contact with certain events in which I was not an active participant, and which, as other people's secrets, I cannot communicate to you, but which stirred me deeply. Their practical result was that the consciousness of the shallowness and worthlessness of my aim in life became more vivid than ever. Through the advice of others, and through my own impulse, I was brought to the point of reading the Scriptures more consecutively and with resolute restraint, sometimes, of my own judgment. That which stirred within me came to life when the news of the fatal illness of our late friend in Cardemin tore the first ardent prayer from my heart, without subtle questionings as to its reasonableness. God did not grant my prayer on that occasion; neither did He utterly reject it, for I have never again lost the capacity to bring my requests to Him, and I feel within me, if not peace, at least confidence and courage such as I never knew before.

I do not know what value you will attach to this emotion, which my heart has felt for only two months; I only hope that it may not be lost, whatever your decision in regard to me may be—a hope of which I could give you no better assurance than by undeviating frankness and loyalty in that which I have now disclosed to you, and to no one else hitherto, with the conviction that God favors the sincere.

I refrain from any assurance of my feelings and purposes with reference to your daughter, for the step I am taking speaks of them louder and more eloquently than words can. So, too, no promises for the future would be of service to you, since you know the untrustworthiness of the human heart better than I, and the only security I offer for the welfare of your daughter lies in my prayer for God's blessing. As a matter of history I would only observe that, after I had seen Fräulein Johanna repeatedly in Cardemin, after the trip we made together this summer, I have only been in doubt as to whether the attainment of my desires would be reconcilable with the happiness and peace of your


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 daughter, and whether my self-confidence was not greater than my ability when I believed that she could find in me what she would have a right to look for in her husband. Very recently, however, together with my reliance on God's grace, the resolution which I now carry out has also become fixed in me, and I kept silent when I saw you in Zimmerhausen only because I had more to say than I could express in conversation. In view of the importance of the matter and the great sacrifice which it will involve for you and your wife in separation from your daughter, I can scarcely hope that you will give a favorable decision at once, and only beg that you will not refuse me an opportunity for explanation upon any considerations which might dispose you to reject my suit, before you utter a positive refusal.

There is doubtless a great deal that I have not said, or not said fully enough, in this letter, and I am, of course, ready to give you exact and faithful information as to everything you may desire to know; I think I have told what is most important.

I beg you to convey to your wife my respectful compliments, and to accept kindly the assurance of my love and esteem.

2em

Schönhausen, February 1, '47.

I had only waited for daylight to write you, my dear heart, and with the light came your little green spirit-lamp to make my lukewarm water seethe—though this time it found it ready to boil over. Your pity for my restless nights at present is premature, but I shall give you credit for it. The Elbe still lies turbid and growling in her ice-bonds: the spring's summons to burst them is not yet loud enough for her. I say to the weather: "If you would only be cold or warm! But you stay continually at freezing-point, and at this rate the matter may long drag on." For the present my activity is limited to sending out, far and wide, from the warm seat at the writing-table, diverse con-


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 jurations, whose magic starts quantities of fascines, boards, wheelbarrows, etc., from inland towards the Elbe, perchance to serve as a prosaic dam in restraint of the poetical foaming of the flood. After I had spent the morning in this useful rather than agreeable correspondence, my resolve was to chat away comfortably through the evening with you, beloved one, as though we were sitting on the sofa in the red drawing-room; and with sympathetic attention to my desire the mail kept for my enjoyment precisely at this gossiping hour your letter, which I should have received by good rights day before yesterday. You know, if you were able to decipher my inexcusably scrawled note from Schlawe, how I struck a half-drunken crowd of hussar officers there, who disturbed me in my writing. In the train I had, with my usual bad luck, a lady vis-à-vis, and beside me two very stout, heavily fur-clad passengers, the nearer of whom was a direct descendant of Abraham into the bargain, and put me in a bitter humor against all his race by a disagreeable movement of his left elbow.

I found my brother in his dressing-gown, and he employed the five minutes of our interview very completely, according to his habit, in emptying a woolsack full of vexatious news about Kniephof before me: disorderly inspectors, a lot of damaged sheep, distillers drunk every day, thoroughbred colts (the prettiest, of course) come to grief, and rotten potatoes, fell in a rolling torrent from his obligingly opened mouth upon my somewhat travel-worn self. On my brother's account I must affect and utter some exclamations of terror and complaint, for my indifferent manner on receiving news of misfortune vexes him, and as long as I do not express surprise he has ever new and still worse news in stock. This time he attained his object, at least in my inner man, and when I took my seat next to the Jewish elbow in green fur I was in a right bad humor; especially the colt distressed me—an animal as pretty as a picture and three years old. Not before getting out of doors did I be-


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 come conscious of the ingratitude of my heart, and the thought of the unmerited happiness that had become mine a fortnight earlier again won the mastery in me. In Stettin I found drinking, gambling friends. William Ramin took occasion to say, apropos of a remark about reading the Bible, "Tut! In Reinfeld I'd speak like that, too, if I were in your place, but to believe you can impose on your oldest acquaintances is amusing." I found my sister very well and full of joy about you and me. She wrote to you, I think, before she received your letter. Arnim is full of anxiety lest I become "pious." He kept looking at me all the time earnestly and thoughtfully, with sympathetic concern, as one looks at a dear friend whom one would like to save and yet almost gives up for lost. I have seldom seen him so tender. Very clever people have a curious manner of viewing the world. In the evening (I hope you did not write so late) I drank your health in the foaming grape-juice of Sillery, in company with half a dozen Silesian counts, Schaffgotsch and others, at the Hôtel de Rome, and convinced myself Friday morning that the ice on the Elbe was still strong enough to bear my horse's weight, and that, so far as the freshet was concerned, I might today be still at your blue or black side if other current official engagements had not also claimed my presence. Snow has fallen very industriously all day long, and the country is white once more, without severe cold. When I arrived it was all free from snow on this side of Brandenburg; the air was warm and the people were ploughing; it was as though I had traveled out of winter into opening spring, and yet within me the short springtime had changed to winter, for the nearer I came to Schonhausen the more oppressive I found the thought of entering upon the old loneliness once more, for who knows how long. Pictures of a wasted past arose in me as though they would banish me from you. I was on the verge of tears, as when, after a school vacation, I caught sight of Berlin's towers from the


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 train. The comparison of my situation with that in which I was on the 10th, when I traveled the same line in the opposite direction; the conviction that my solitude was, strictly speaking, voluntary, and that I could at any time, albeit through a resolve smacking of insubordination and a forty hours' journey, put an end to it, made me see once more that my heart is ungrateful, dismayed, and resentful; for soon I said to myself, in the comfortable fashion of the accepted lover, that even here I am no longer lonely, and I was happy in the consciousness of being loved by you, my angel, and, in return for the gift of your love, of belonging to you, not merely in vassalage, but with my inmost heart. On reaching the village I felt more distinctly than ever before what a beautiful thing it is to have a home—a home with which one is identified by birth, memory, and love. The sun shone bright on the stately houses of the villagers, and their portly inmates in long coats and the gayly dressed women in short skirts gave me a much more friendly greeting than usual; on every face there seemed to be a wish for my happiness, which I invariably converted into thanks to you. Gray-haired Bellin's fat face wore a broad smile, and the trusty old soul shed tears as he patted me paternally on the back and expressed his satisfaction; his wife, of course, wept most violently; even Odin was more demonstrative than usual, and his paw on my coat-collar proved incontestably that it was muddy weather. Half an hour later Miss Breeze was galloping with me on the Elbe, manifestly proud to carry your affianced, for never before did she so scornfully smite the earth with her hoof. Fortunately you cannot judge, my heart, in what a mood of dreary dulness I used to reenter my house after a journey; what depression overmastered me when the door of my room yawned at me and the mute furniture in the silent apartments confronted me, bored like myself. The emptiness of my existence was never clearer to me than in such moments, until I seized a book—though none of them


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fascinating story of Inca civilisation was told to our fathers by Dr. Robertson, whose 'History of America' appeared in 1778, and to ourselves by Mr. Prescott, whose 'Conquest of Peru' was published in 1843. It is assumed that most educated people have read the latter work. But since its publication a great deal of subsequently discovered material has quite altered our view of some things, and thrown entirely new light upon others. Yet Mr. Prescott's work can never lose its high position as a carefully written and very charming history.

It is now more than sixty years ago since the present writer came under the influence of that fascination, when, as a naval cadet on board H.M.S. Collingwood, the flagship in the Pacific, he first gazed on the land of the Incas. The noble Symondite line-of-battle ship rounded the northern headland of San Lorenzo Island, and made her stately way to her anchorage in Callao roads. I was just fourteen, and under the wing of Lieutenant Peel, aged nineteen (afterwards the gallant Sir William Peel), who was officer of my watch

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viii lucidly the comparative value of the authorities he had used, adding that there were probably others of equal importance that he had not seen. Once he said that no history could be quite satisfactory unless the author was personally acquainted with the localities he had to describe. He gave me valuable advice, and said that he would be much interested in the results of my journey. I used to drive over the country in a buggy, and pull on the quiet little Nississisett river with Amory. My stay of ten days at Pepperell, with the great historian, is a time which I always look back to with feelings of pleasure and gratitude. It was a fitting introduction to my Peruvian researches.

From Lima I made several excursions, and explored the coast from Lima to Nasca. Crossing an unfrequented pass of the Andes from Yca, I made several excursions from my headquarters at Ayacucho, and eventually went thence to Cuzco. At the city of the Incas I remained several weeks, carefully examining the ruins, and learning much from such recipients of folklore as Dr. Julian Ochoa and the Señora Astete. From Cuzco I went to the valley of Vilcamayu occupied in researches, and then over the Andes to spend a fortnight with Dr. Justiniani, a descendant of the Incas, at Laris, and to copy his manuscripts.

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Rh My next journey was to Paucartambo, whence I penetrated far into the wild montaña. Finally I went from Cuzco to Arequipa by the lofty pass of Rumihuasi.

On my return to England I continued my studies until, in 1859 to 1861, I was engaged on the important public service of introducing the cultivation of the various species of quinine-yielding chinchona trees from South America into British India. I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of that splendid old warrior, General Miller, who referred me to new mines of information among the ' Papeles Varios ' of the Lima library. During my journeys I was able to explore great part of the northern half of the basin of Lake Titicaca, and the Montaña of Caravaya. I also collected several Quichua songs. Throughout my journeys in Peru I received the heartiest welcomes and the most unbounded hospitality and kindness. The three Indians who went with me into the forests of Caravaya were obliging, willing, and faithful. My experience with them and others gave me a high opinion of the Indian character.

Since my return from Peru, nearly fifty years ago, I have kept up my knowledge of the literary labours of the Peruvians, in the direction of Inca research, by correspondence with friends, and the receipt of books and pamphlets. My most valued

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x correspondents have been Don E. Larrabure y Unanue, Don Manuel Gonzalez de la Rosa, Don José Toribio Polo, and Don Ricardo Palma. I also received much kind assistance from friends in Spain, now departed, Don Pascual de Gayangos, and especially from Don Marcos Jimenez de la Espada. The literary labours of these and other Spanish and Peruvian authors attain a high standard. I have since devoted my efforts to a complete mastery of all the original authorities on Inca history and civilisation. It is not enough to dip into them, nor even to read them, in order to obtain such a mastery. The problems that present themselves in the study of Inca civilisation are often complicated, they need much weighing of evidence, and are difficult of solution. My own studies have extended over many years, during which time I have translated and annotated the principal authorities, made indexes, and

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 On a Second Collection of Coins from Malacca.

In a former number of this Journal I described a col- lection of coins which in the year 1900 had been obtained during excavations near the mouth of the Malacca river, and which had been collected together by the Hon'ble W. Egerton, Resi- dent Councillor of Malacca, and presented by him to the Raffles Museum. The most interesting of these, previously not describ- ed, were certain Portuguese tin coins from the time of King Emmanuel (1495-1521) and John III (1521-1557), the earliest of which must have been struck by Albuquerque soon after his occupation of Malacca (1511). Towards the end of last year (1904) the Hon'ble R. N. Bland, Resident Councillor of Malacca, succeeded in obtaining more coins from the same locality which he generously presented to the Raffles Museum. He tells me that the dredger brought them up imbedded in a kind of blue clay, possibly a little to the sea-ward of the place where Mr. Egerton's were found.

The most remarkable of these are six huge tin coins, struck in two varieties, giving neither the date nor the name of a ruler, but having a pattern similar to that of the coins issued by King Emmanuel and John III,, namely with the cross on the ob- verse and the sphere on the reverse. The one variety (see figs. 1 and la), of which there are five specimens, measures from 35 to 36 mm. in diameter, 6 mm. in thickness and weighs from 37 to 115 grammes. On the obverse, around the cross, is the inscrip- tion NOSTRE SPES VNICA CRVX XPI. The mistake in NOSTRE is very extraordinary, but such errors are not uncom-


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 mon on old Portuguese coins. The last three letters XPI, if taken as Latin characters, would be difficult of interpretation. Taken as Greek they would stand for Christ, although they are then more usually written in the form of a monogram ☧, For this interpretation I am indebted to Mr. Robert Sewell, M.R.A.S., who in January last passed through Singapore and kindly examined the coin.

The inscription on the reverse is more difficult to read, the last few letters especially being much worn on all five coins. The letters seem to be SMPRDEPV SORDIEM. The first four characters I take for an abbreviation for 'semper.' The next seven letters may stand for 'Depulsor,' the letter 'l' being omitted or being covered by part of the device, viz. the pro- jecting axis of the globe. The word 'Depulsor' occurs in a few Latin inscriptions, as an epithet of Jupiter, the averter of evil. The last four or five letters are very indistinct. 'Diem' would hardly give any sense, and I am inclined to think that the inscription should read something like 'Semper Depulsor Deus'.

The other variety (see figs. 2 and 2a) of which there is only one specimen, is of an unusual shape, the diameter of the obverse being 37 mm., but that of the reverse 35 mm. only. giving to the coin the shape of a truncated cone, and this ap- pearance is heightened by the sharp edges of the coin. Its thickness is 6.5 mm. and its weight 45 grammes. The coin fur- ther differs from the first variety by the shape of the cross, the outlines of its arms being not parallel to each other, but converging towards the centre, and by the sphere on the reverse being somewhat smaller. The inscription, however, on the two varieties.

Very similar to these is a much smaller coin (sec figs. 3, 3a, 4 and 4a), also of tin, 24 mm, in diameter, 15 min. in thickness and 4.1 grammes in weight. It again shows the usual devices of the cross and the sphere. The reverse bears no inscription, whilst the obverse has the words NOSTRAE SPES VNICA, resembling thus the above described large coins by another, almost incredible, mistake. The word 'crux' is omitted, but may be understood from the figure of the cross in the middle of the inscription. There were three specimens of this coin.


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 The other Portuguese coins collected by Mr. Bland are identical with those described in my former paper. I therefore merely give the number of the specimens found with their references:

Eight coins from the reign of King Emmanuel (1495-1521), loc. cit. p. 194 pl. I, figs. 2 and 2 a.

Eight coins from the reign of King John III (1521-1557), loc. cit. pl. II, figs. 8 and 8 a.

Five coins from the same reign, loc. cit. pl. II, figs. 9 and 9 a.

Seven coins from the same reign, loc. cit. pl. II, figs. 10 and 10 a.

Three coins without incriptioninscription [sic], loc. cit. pl. I, figs. 3 and 3 a.

One coin, with the letters B. A. and three crossed arrows between them, loc. cit. pl.II, figs 12 and 12 a.

In addition to these there are about twenty-five Malay coins, most of them, however, too much worn to be deciphered. One of them hears the inscription and is almost indenticalidentical [sic] with the one described in my former paper (p. 185, pl. I, fig. 5). The Rev. Dr. Luering has kindly pointed out to me that the reading I gave at the time of this inscription, viz. "maliku ’l-‘âdil" and the translation 'The just king,' were based on a wrong vocalisation of the first word which is not to be read 'malik,' i. e. king', but 'milk' or 'mulk', that is 'possession,' 'property,' and is often used with regard to coinage in the sense of the French 'fonds.' He further says that the word 'âdil' which originally means 'just,' 'righteous,' has in this connection the secondary meaning of 'equal weight,' 'full weight,' so that the inscription might be translated 'full weight currency,' or 'legal tender.'

I wish to point out that the figures of the accompanying plate are faithful reproductions of the originals, in natural size, and that their indistinctness is not due to the photographer and printer, but to the condition in which the coins were found. Only by examining the coins in different lights was it possible to decipher their inscriptions.


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 JOURNAL 44, PLATE I.


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Rh reports. The map includes the original land of the Incas, the basin of Lake Titicaca, and the eastern montaña.

I have to thank the Government of Peru and the Lima Geographical Society, as well as many others, for much valuable assistance in the provision of materials. The very difficult work of compilation has been admirably done by Mr. Reeves, the accomplished Map Curator of the Royal Geographical Society, and by Mr. Batchelor, the very able draughtsman.

CLEMENTS R. MARKHAM.

July 1910

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 glory to God. When they told what they had seen their faces shone like angels'. The fear of God fell upon the city. The police said they never saw such a change; that they had nothing to do. They said they made no arrest; and that the power of God seemed to preserve the city. A spirit of love rested all over the city. There was no fighting, no swearing on the streets; that the people moved softly, and that there seemed to be a spirit of love and kindness among all classes, as if they felt they were in the presence of God.

A merchant fell in a trance in his home and lay several hours. Hundreds went in to look at him. He had a vision, and a message for the church. The Lord showed him the condition of many of the members. He told part of his vision, but refused to deliver the message to the church. He was struck dumb. He could not speak a word because he refused to tell what the Lord wanted him to. The Lord showed him he would never speak till he delivered the message. He rose to his feet, weeping, to tell the vision. God loosed his tongue. Those present knew he had been dumb, and when he began to talk and tell his experience it had a wonderful effect on the church and sinners.

One night there was a party seventeen miles from the city. Some of the young ladies thought they would have some fun; they began to mimic and act out the trance. The Lord struck some of them down. They lay there as if they had been shot. Their fun-making was soon turned to a prayer-meeting, and cries of mercy were heard. The people came to the meetings in sleigh loads many miles. One night while a sleigh load of men and women were going to the meeting they were jesting about the trances. They made the remark to each other that they were going in a trance that night. Before the meeting closed all who had been making fun were struck down by the power of God and lay like dead people, and had to be taken home in the sled in that condition. Those who came with them were very much frightened when they saw them lying there, and they told how they had been making fun of the power of God on the way to the meeting. Scoffers and mockers were stricken down in all parts of the house.

One man was mocking a woman of whose body God had taken control. She was preaching with gestures. When in that mocking attitude God struck him dumb. He became rigid and

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 6. But, granting that we had both the will and the sense to choose our friends well, how few of us have the power! or, at least, how limited, for most, is the sphere of choice! Nearly all our associations are determined by chance or necessity; and restricted within a narrow circle. We cannot know whom we would; and those whom we know, we cannot have at our side when we most need them. All the higher circles of human intelligence are, to those beneath, only momentarily and partially open. We may, by good fortune, obtain a glimpse of a great poet, and hear the sound of his voice; or put a question to a man of science, and be answered good-humouredly. We may intrude ten minutes' talk on a cabinet minister, answered probably with words worse than silence, being deceptive; or snatch, once or twice in our lives, the privilege of throwing a bouquet in the path of a princess, or arresting the kind glance of a queen. And yet these momentary chances we covet; and spend our years, and passions, and powers, in pursuit of little more than these; while, meantime, there is a society continually open to us, of people who will talk to us as long as we like,


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 [No. 43]

JOURNAL

of the

of the

APRIL 1905

SINGAPORE:

1905


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 [No. 44]

JOURNAL

of the

of the

JULY 1905

SINGAPORE:

1905


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 For early thinkers, untrained in the methods and unaware of the limits of thought, even for the great and free thinkers of Greece, a cap- tivating analogy was irresistible'; while inventing schemes of thought they believed themselves to be describing the processes of nature. Moreover it has been the temptation of philosophers of all times, and even of Harvey himself than whom none had put better the conditions of scientific method, to suppose that by means of abstraction kinds may be apprehended; that thus they may get nearer to the inmost core of things; that by purging away the characters of individuals they may detect the essence and cause of individuation

St Thomas it was matter. For all "vitalists" the identity of form, soul and life is essential; thus Stahl regarded soul as bestowing on body all activity, as determining all vital functions. In Aristotle xń is untranslatable-anima and animus-soul and vital principle. Ivevpa again in various writers may mean anything, from air to spirit or other essence; cf. Arist. De Generat. An. II. 3, and the "aura" of Harvey, and even of Haller in the same connexiou as the fertilising element.

¹ Not for all, not for the greatest of them! Aristotle, in vain, warned later generations against prophesying what seems likely, instead of looking to see how things come about our dann déyovres, λdà partevóuevos To ovμßoó- LEVOV ÉK TÁV Fikótov, kai mpooλaµßávoures as ouras exor mpiv pivópevov otros idei." (De Gen. Auim. IV. i.) "Croire tout ce qu'on rêve," if useful and possibly admirable in its day, in "neo-Hegelians" is a little stale.


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 whatever our rank or occupation;—talk to us in the best words they can choose, and of the things nearest their hearts. And this society, because it is so numerous and so gentle, and can be kept waiting round us all day long,—kings and statesmen lingering patiently, not to grant audience, but to gain it!—in those plainly furnished and narrow ante-rooms, our bookcase shelves,—we make no account of that company,—perhaps never listen to a word they would say, all day long!

7. You may tell me, perhaps, or think within yourselves, that the apathy with which we regard this company of the noble, who are praying us to listen to them; and the passion with which we pursue the company, probably of the ignoble, who despise us, or who have nothing to teach us, are grounded in this,—that we can see the faces of the living men, and it is themselves, and not their sayings, with which we desire to become familiar. But it is not so. Suppose you never were to see their faces;—suppose you could be put behind a screen in the statesman's cabinet, or the prince's chamber, would you not be glad to listen to their words, though you were


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 not perceiving indeed that the content of notions is, as Abélard had pointed out plainly, in inverse proportion to their universality. Like Sidney's hooded dove, the blinder they were the higher they strove. For example: from a lump of silver a medal is struck; from many lumps of silver many medals are struck, each different from the other: let us eliminate as accidents the notions of silver, of the blow of a hammer, even of particular features of the devices, and we shall reach the idea of an agent with a type or seal, or of such an agent with many seals, or ideas, who may thus individualise indifferent matter; or, to penetrate deeper into abstraction, who may transfer forms of his own activity to motionless

1 Thus, in ascending from general to more general, in the most general will be sought unique and perfect being; the primary cause and sole object of science the avrocoor of the Alexandrians: whereas by successive eliminations utter ab- stractions would become utter vacuity. To such realists all subordinate beings are integral parts of the primary being. It would serve no useful end here to analyse these doctrines, or to indicate the pythagorean or stoical elements of them; for platonists and realists had their schools and degrees of subtlety; and Plato himself was inconsistent. Some brought secondary agents-demiurges or angels-into more creative activity, others carried creative reason back to the ideal good, and so on.


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 remained with his hands up, and his mouth drawn in that mocking way for five hours, a gazing-stock for all in the house. The fear of God fell on all. They saw it was a fearful thing to mock God or make fun of his work. Surely, the Lord worked in a wonderul way in this meeting. The postmaster was converted. All classes from the roughs and toughs to the tallest cedars and brightest talents of the city were brought into the fold of Christ. We took the meeting to the opera house and it would not hold the crowds, so great was the awakening among the people. Traveling salesmen arranged to return to the city each night. The Cincinnati Enquirer sent a reporter to write up the meetings and report daily. Every day the newsboys could be heard crying out, "All about the Woodworth revival." Reporters came from many States and large cities to write up the meetings.

Lawyer C., one of the leading lawyers of the city, was convinced of the reality of the religion of Jesus by seeing me under the control of the Holy Ghost power while in a trance. Sometimes standing with my face and hands raised to heaven, my face shining with the brightness of heaven; other times the tears streaming down my face, with mute preaching, pleading with sinners to come to Christ; other times lying for hours, sometimes as one dead, and divers operations of the Spirit, conscious all the time, but entirely controlled by the power of the Holy Ghost. Always while in these conditions in this meeting, and all others, the fear of God would fall upon the people. Sinners would be stricken down over the house. Many would be saved; they would rush to the altar crying for mercy. Sometimes scores would be converted while God would use me in this way. Mr. C. was the leading lawyer of the State. He was a skeptic; had no use for churches, The ministers had given up all hopes of him ever being saved. When he came and invited us to his house to make our home with them while in the city, people were astonished. He asked me if I would tell him my experience while in a trance. He said he did not ask this to satisfy curiosity, but for light. He said he had confidence in me, and would believe what I told him. I knew the Lord was leading in this. I told him more of my experience than I had ever told any one. While talking the power of God fell upon us all. I was almost blind with the glory of God. My hands looked transparent. He broke down and began to 5

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 stuff. It is my part to-day to show that before motionless stuff-before the problem of the "pri- mum mobile"-even Harvey himself stood help- less; helpless yet fascinated by the indulgence of invention when, in the De motu cordis, or the De generatione, he permitted himself to carry contemplation beyond the sphere of his admirable experiments. "Natural, vital and animal spirits" indeed he would have none of; saying well that he should want as many spirits as functions, and that to introduce such agents as artificers of tissues is to go beyond experience: yet in his need of a motor for his machine he was not able to divest himself of the language nor even of the philosophy of his day; he referred the cause of the motion of the blood, and therefore of the heart, to innate heat'. In his day he could not but regard rest and

¹ Held by Gilbert, and attributed to Averroes; but older than Averroes. In turning to Francis Bacon's hypothesis I read (Ed. E. and S. 11. 263. Hist. Densi et rari-chapter,"Dilatationes per spiritum innatum se expandentem," a Paracelsian sort of chapter) "Pulsus cordis et arteriarum in animalibus fit per irrequietam dilatationem spirituum, et receptum ipsorum, per vices." The muscular quality of the heart was known to Galen, forgotten, and rediscovered. Spiritus vitalis, for Bacon, was "aura composita ex flamma et aere" (cf. En. VL 747). Glisson has been fortunate in two generous judges, in Haller


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The culture of the proletariat struggling to free itself is a class culture, sharply defined, and based on strife. It is romantic, and, from its very intensity, its form suffers, because time does not allow a definite and perfect form to be elaborated from its stormy and tragic substance.

Classes and nations which have reached their highest development are classical in their culture. Classes striving for self-expression are romantic, and their romanticism possesses the typical characteristics of the "storm and stress"; classes doomed to decay assume another form of romanticism, that of melacholy, disenchantment, and decadence.

We must not conclude that there is no intimate relationship between Socialist and proletarian culture because they so substantially differ from each other. We must bear in mind that the struggle is one for an ideal: that of the culture of brotherhood and complete freedom; of victory over the individualism which cripples human beings; and of a communal life based not on compulsion and the need of man to herd together for mere self-preservation, as it was in the past, but on a free and natural merging of personalities into super-personal entities.

Not only do the very characteristics of this ideal prescribe definite forms of co-operation in the midst of the prevailing world strife: these forms are themselves the direct outcome of the peculiar position occupied by the working class in the capitalist world order, which has forced the workers to be the best organised and most united class in the community.

No ideal can spring from a soil or seed alien to it; the methods and weapons used for its attainment must be in harmony with itself. Therefore from the struggling proletariat we must not expect the splendour of the harvest and the perfection of form and unfettered grace of victorious strength. These will reveal themselves in the future. Nevertheless, we have every reason to expect that proletarian culture, because of its


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 motion as different things; and motion as a super- added quality. In denying the older opinion' that the heart is the source of motion, of perfection² and of heat, he put the difficulty but one stage back; and, when in the treatise on Generation he pro- pounded his transcendental notion of the impreg-

and Virchow, it would ill become me to depreciate a distin- guished Fellow of my own College, and as a clinical observer Glisson had considerable merits; but as a physiologist he wAS sunk in realism. He was happy in the invention of the technical term "irritability," but for him this virtue was as metaphysical an essence as the vital spirit; his prime motor was not physical. As a philosopher I fear the inde- pendent reader of his works will find him fanciful and wearisome. Herein Ilarvey's sagacity brought him towards the truth. "Air," he says in the De generatione, "is given neither for the cooling nor the nutrition of animals......it is as if heat were rather enkindled within the foctus (at birth) than re- pressed by the influence of the air." Boyle (who says that he worked under the influence of Harvey's discoveries) carried this matter forward by most interesting and sagacious experi- ments with his air-pump. For the layman, I may add that (to speak generally) before Harvey's time respiration was regarded not as a means of combustion but of refrigeration. How man became such a fiery dragon was the puzzle! 2 Perfection was attributed, not only by medieval philo- sophers but also by Plate and Aristotle, to the circle. Cir- cular movement was therefore the most perfect, and therefore again must be that of the planets. This is a good illustration of the almost necessary tendency in the earlier excursions of thought to equate incoordinates, and to fill gaps in reason- ing from alien sources.


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 forbidden to advance beyond the screen? And when the screen is only a little less, folded in two instead of four, and you can be hidden behind the cover of the two boards that bind a book, and listen all day long, not to the casual talk, but to the studied, determined, chosen addresses of the wisest of men;—this station of audience, and honourable privy council, you despise!

8. But perhaps you will say that it is because the living people talk of things that are passing, and are of immediate interest to you, that you desire to hear them. Nay; that cannot be so, for the living people will themselves tell you about passing matters much better in their writings than in their careless talk. Yet I admit that this motive does influence you, so far as you prefer those rapid and ephemeral writings to slow and enduring writings—books, properly so called. For all books are divisible into two classes, the books of the hour, and the books of all time. Mark this distinction—it is not one of quality only. It is not merely the bad book that does not last, and the good one that does. It is a distinction of species. There are good books for


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 weep. We all got on our knees. This was the first time this strong man, this tall cedar, had ever bowed before the living God. In a little while the news had spread all over the city. But that night when he came boldly into the crowded opera house and bowed at the altar, and in a moment another leading lawyer of the city bowed at his side, the excitement and surprise of the people had no bounds. I praise God for victory at this place, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

While at Hartford City, calls came from churches in Cincinnati, Fort Wayne, Union City, and many other large cities. They sent one dispatch after another, urging me to come. But God's ways are not our ways; he does not see as man sees. God looks in the heart; man judges from outward appearances. The Lord showed me I must go to a little town fifteen miles away, called New Corner. I rode in a sleigh. When I got there I was so hoarse I could only speak in a whisper, and so tired I could not walk without assistance. It was time for meeting. The house and yard were crowded. I could hardly get through to the pulpit. I commenced singing, trusting God to take away the hoarseness and give me voice. In five minutes my voice was strong and clear. I sang in the strength and power of God. I sang two or three hymns. The power of God fell upon me, and remained all the week I was there. It could be seen and heard, and felt by all who came to the meetings. I preached that night the only sermon while there. After that night I would be interrupted by sinners falling in the congregation. Then there would be a rush to the altar, and shouts by the friends of those who were stricken down. In a few minutes the house would be turned into a mourners’ bench.

The first night of the meeting, while we were singing, I reached-over to shake hands with a man who was standing in the aisle. I asked him to come to Christ. He began to tremble and fell backward, I thought I would not talk to any one else for fear the people would attribute the power to me instead of God. As I stepped back one of the ministers on the pulpit, the pastor of the church, threw up his hands and fell. The fear of God fell upon the sinners. They thought if the ministers had to go down there was no chance for them to escape. They tried to get out of the church, but they could not; the house was so packed there was no room to move. Sixty sinners who were near the altar

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 "Perhaps you will be our marshal again."

"I doubt it," said Snetkof, with his scared look. "I am tired, getting old. There are younger and better men than I. Must let them take my place." And he disappeared by a side door.

Now the most solemn moment had arrived. It was necessary to proceed immediately to the election itself. The leaders of both parties were counting on their fingers the white and black balls. The controversy regarding Flerof gave the new party not only one more vote, but also gained time, so that they could send for three nobles, whom the trickery of the old party was going to deprive of the possibility of taking part in the election. Two nobles who had a weakness for wine had been made drunk by Snetkof's henchmen, and a third had been seduced by the promise of a uniform.

Having learned about this, the new party had made haste during the contest concerning Flerof to send an izvoshchik for the noble and to provide him with a uniform, and to bring one of the two drunken nobles to the hall.

"I brought one of them, I had to douse him with water," said the proprietor who had gone in search of him, addressing Sviazhsky. "He'll do."

"He's not very drunk, is he; can't he stand?" asked Sviazhsky, shaking his head. "Yes, he's a young man. Only don't let them get him to drinking here. .... I told the caterer not to give him any wine under any consideration."

CHAPTER XXIX

narrow hall where men smoked and had luncheon was crowded with nobles. The excitement kept increasing, and all faces showed signs of anxiety. Especially agitated were the leaders, who knew all the details and had followed the voting very closely. These men had charge of the approaching engagement. The others, like the soldiers in the ranks before the battle, although ready for the conflict, in the meantime sought

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 diversion. Some ate luncheon, standing or sitting at the buffet; others walked up and down the long room smoking cigarettes, and talked with friends whom they had not seen for long.

Levin did not feel hungry, he did not smoke, and he did not care to join his friends, that is, Sergyei Ivanovitch, Stepan Arkadyevitch, Sviazhsky, and the others, for the reason that Vronsky in his equerry's uniform stood in lively conversation with them. The evening before he had seen Vronsky at the election, and had carefully avoided him, not wishing to come into contact with him. He went to a window and sat down, watching the groups and listening to what was said around him. He felt depressed, especially because all the others, as he could see, were animated, active, and occupied, and he alone was inert and indifferent; the only other exception was an old man in a naval uniform, who had no teeth and who spoke in a mumbling voice.

"What a rogue. I told him it was not so! He can't make it up in three years," a round-shouldered, short proprietor was saying energetically; this man, whose long unpomaded hair was spread out over the embroidered collar of his uniform coat, walked along, noisily putting down the heels of his new boots which evidently had been made for the elections; but as he caught sight of Levin he cast a hostile glance at him, and turned about abruptly.

"Yes, it is a nasty thing to say so," repeated the little proprietor, in a piping voice.

Immediately behind these two came a whole throng of proprietors, crowding around a tall general, and quickly approaching where Levin was. They were evidently trying to find some place where they would not be overheard. "How does he dare to say that I ordered his trousers to be stolen. He drank them up, I reckon. I don't care a straw if he is a prince. Don't let him dare to say such a thing; it's swinish!"

"Hold on, excuse me. They insist on the letter of the law," they were saying in another group; "his wife must be inscribed among the nobility."

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 the hour, and good ones for all time; bad books for the hour, and bad ones for all time. I must define the two kinds before I go farther.

9. The good book of the hour, then,—I do not speak of the bad ones,—is simply the useful or pleasant talk of some person whom you cannot otherwise converse with, printed for you. Very useful often, telling you what you need to know; very pleasant often, as a sensible friend's present talk would be. These bright accounts of travels; good-humoured and witty discussions of question; lively or pathetic story-telling in the form of novel; firm fact-telling, by the real agents concerned in the events of passing history;—all these books of the hour, multiplying among us as education becomes more general, are a peculiar possession of the present age: we ought to be entirely thankful for them, and entirely ashamed of ourselves if we make no good use of them. But we make the worst possible use if we allow them to usurp the place of true books: for, strictly speaking, they are not books at all, but merely letters or newspapers in good print. Our friend's letter may be


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{| style="margin:auto;" ! English. ! Hokkien. ! Cantonese. ! Character.
 * Tokio
 * Tang-kia
 * Tung-keng
 * 東京
 * Tongkah
 * Kong-ka
 * Hung-ka
 * 通扣
 * Kham-ka
 * 禽卡
 * Tang
 * Tang li
 * 董裡
 * Wu-chiu-tang
 * 糊椒等
 * Trengganu
 * Teng-ka-no
 * Teng-nga-nu
 * 丁加奴
 * Wei-hai-wei
 * Ui-hai-ui
 * Wai-hoi-wai
 * 威海衞
 * Yokohama
 * Hueⁿ-pin
 * Wang-pan
 * 橫濱
 * }
 * Teng-nga-nu
 * 丁加奴
 * Wei-hai-wei
 * Ui-hai-ui
 * Wai-hoi-wai
 * 威海衞
 * Yokohama
 * Hueⁿ-pin
 * Wang-pan
 * 橫濱
 * }
 * 橫濱
 * }

Some years ago the late Mr H. T. Haughton of the Straits Settlements Civil Service compiled a list of the native names, Chinese and Tamil, of some of the most important streets in Singapore.

Since this list was published, Singapore has grown and streets have multiplied, so that Mr. Haughton's list, useful as far as it goes, is somewhat out of date.


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 nation of the female by the conception of a "general immaterial idea," we find in him realism still very much alive indeed. Hlad Harvey been content with innate heat he would have done well enough; but the innate heat of the blood, as he explains it, is not fire nor derived from fire; nor is the blood occupied by a spirit, but is a spirit: it is also " celestial in nature, the soul, that which answers to the essence of the stars......is something analogous to heaven, the instrument of heaven."

In denying that a spirit descends and stows itself in the body, as "an extraneous inmate," Harvey advances beyond Cremoninus, who then taught in the chair of Averroistic philosophy in Padua; for, says Harvey, I cannot discover this spirit with my senses, nor any seat of it. In another passage indeed Harvey warns us "not to derive from the stars what is in truth produced at home"; in yet another he tells us that philosophers produce principles as indifferent poets thrust gods upon the stage, to unravel plots and to bring about catastrophes: yet he concludes that "the spirit in the blood acting superiorly to the powers of the elements,......the soul in this spirit and blood, is identical with the essence of the stars."


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 came to the altar; others had to stay back because of want of room. When the minister came out of the trance he told of the wonderful vision he had, of the horrors of hell and the beauty of heaven. He said heaven was a real city. He saw many of his friends there, and talked with them. He saw the hosts of angels. He saw people in hell that he knew on earth. God showed him some that would go there if they did not repent and be saved in this meeting. This vision stirred the churches and ministers. The ministers came to the altar for a baptism of power. Nearly all their members followed. The second morning they took all the seats out of the church to make all the room they could for the people to stand. They took two rows of seats and made a double altar from the pulpit to the door. They made one on the right and one on the left of the pulpit. These were crowded most all the time, day and night.

Sometimes they were four double. Scores were saved who did not come to the altar. One night there were one hundred and fifteen converted. Nearly all who were saved during this revival, when the Spirit of God came in their hearts, they fell under the power, or sprang to their feet, shouting the praises of God. Those who fell would lay, some fifteen minutes, some half an hour, some: one or two hours, some a day and night, and others longer. They would all come out praising: God. I commenced the meetings at nine o’clock in the morning, and continued till twelve at night. We could not close, there were so many outside; when one went out, one came in. Sinners were struck down at their homes, and along the highways. They were saved for miles around.

One day fifteen doctors came from different cities to investigate the power and trances. When they came I was lying under the power of the Holy Ghost. I remained several hours: God used me and others that were in a trance at the same time, in a way that convinced them that it was the power of God. One of the doctors was a class-leader. He did not want to admit the power was of God. He would have been glad if they could proved it was something else. He came to investigate the trances but he was called to another part of the house; he went, expecting to find something new. To his surprise he found his son at the altar,

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Page:Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (IA journalof404219041905roya).pdf/444

{| style="margin:auto;" ! English. ! Hokkien. ! Cantonese. ! Character.
 * Sarawak
 * Su-la-wak
 * Sa-la-wak
 * 砂朥越
 * Selangor
 * Kit-lang
 * Kat-lang
 * 吉隆
 * Sit-lang-ngo
 * Su-lang-ngok
 * 寔蘭莪
 * Serapong
 * Sa-li-pong
 * Sa-la-pong
 * Shanghai
 * Siang-hai
 * Sheung-hoi
 * 上海
 * Siam
 * Siam-lo, Siam-ti
 * Chhim-1o
 * 暹羅
 * Singkep
 * Sin-kip
 * San-kap
 * 新汲
 * Situl
 * Si-tüt
 * Si-to
 * 寔突
 * Sourabaya
 * Su-li-ba
 * Sz-shui
 * 泗水
 * Si-li-buat
 * Siet-lei-fa
 * 泗里末
 * Spain
 * Toa-lu-song
 * Tai-lui-sung
 * 大呂宋
 * Swatow
 * Suaⁿ-than
 * Shan-thau
 * 汕頭
 * Sungei Ujong
 * Hu-jiong
 * Fu-yong
 * 芙蓉
 * Tavoy
 * Tho-a
 * Tho-nga
 * 土瓦
 * Tebing Tinggi
 * Chiok-be teng-ngi
 * Shek-ma teng-yi
 * 石馬丁宜
 * }
 * Shan-thau
 * 汕頭
 * Sungei Ujong
 * Hu-jiong
 * Fu-yong
 * 芙蓉
 * Tavoy
 * Tho-a
 * Tho-nga
 * 土瓦
 * Tebing Tinggi
 * Chiok-be teng-ngi
 * Shek-ma teng-yi
 * 石馬丁宜
 * }
 * Shek-ma teng-yi
 * 石馬丁宜
 * }


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 "The devil take the letter of the law! I insist on its spirit. According to that they are genuine nobles, believe me."

"Your excellency, let us come, fine champagne!"

Another group immediately pressed behind a noble who was shouting something at the top of his voice; this was one of the three drunken nobles.

"I always advised Marya Semyonovna to let it on a lease because she gets no profit out of it," a proprietor was saying in a pleasant voice. This man had gray whiskers and wore the uniform of a colonel on the old general's staff. It was the same proprietor whom he had once met at Sviazhsky's house. Levin immediately recognized him. The proprietor also glanced at Levin, and they greeted each other.

"This is very pleasant. How are you? I remember you very well. We met last year at Nikolaï Ivanovitch's, at the marshal's."

"Well, how goes your farming?" asked Levin.

"Everything is going to rack and ruin," said the proprietor, halting near Levin, and looking at him with a submissive smile, but with an expression of calmness and confidence that this was the natural order of things.

"But how does it happen that you are in our part of the world?" he asked. "Did you come to take part in our coup d'état? he went on, pronouncing the French words with confidence, but with a bad accent.

"All Russia is assembled here,—chamberlains, if not ministers."

He pointed to Stepan Arkadyevitch's imposing figure, as in white trousers and chamberlain's uniform he strode along next the general.

"I must confess to you," said Levin, "I don't understand the significance of these noblemen's elections."

The old gentleman looked at him.

"Well! what is there to understand? what significance can they have? It 's a decaying institution which prolongs itself by the force of inertia. Look at all these uniforms; they tell you this is an assemblage of justices

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{| style="margin:auto;" ! English. ! Hokkien. ! Cantonese. ! Character.
 * Perlis
 * Ka-yang
 * Ka-yang
 * 加央
 * Pontianak
 * Khun-tian
 * Khwan-tin
 * 坤甸
 * Pulo Bĕrandan
 * Fo-shui shan
 * 火水山
 * But-lan-tan
 * 勿輦輦
 * Rangoon
 * Liang-kong
 * Yeung-kwong
 * 仰光
 * Ang-kong
 * On-kung
 * 晏光
 * Renong
 * Lin-long
 * 粦廊
 * Rhio
 * Liau-lai
 * Liu-noi
 * 廖内
 * Russia
 * Go-lo-su
 * Ngo-lo-sz
 * 俄羅斯
 * Saigon
 * Sai-kong
 * Sai-kung
 * 西貢
 * Samarang
 * Sam-pa-lang
 * Sam-pa-lang
 * 三吧壟
 * Sandakan
 * Sin-ngia-kan San-ta-kan Siang-hia kang
 * San-ta-kan
 * 山打根
 * Sandwich I'ds
 * Toaⁿ Hiong Suaⁿ
 * Than Heung shan
 * 檀香山
 * San Francisco
 * Ku kim-Suaⁿ
 * Kau kam-shan
 * 舊金山
 * }
 * Sam-pa-lang
 * Sam-pa-lang
 * 三吧壟
 * Sandakan
 * Sin-ngia-kan San-ta-kan Siang-hia kang
 * San-ta-kan
 * 山打根
 * Sandwich I'ds
 * Toaⁿ Hiong Suaⁿ
 * Than Heung shan
 * 檀香山
 * San Francisco
 * Ku kim-Suaⁿ
 * Kau kam-shan
 * 舊金山
 * }
 * Kau kam-shan
 * 舊金山
 * }


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 delightful, or necessary, to-day: whether worth keeping or not, is to be considered. The newspaper may be entirely proper at breakfast time, but assuredly it is not reading for all day. So, though bound up in a volume, the long letter which gives you so pleasant an account of the inns, and roads, and weather, last year at such a place, or which tells you that amusing story, or gives you the real circumstances of such and such events, however valuable for occasional reference, may not be, in the real sense of the word, a "book" at all, nor, in the real sense, to be "read." A book is essentially not a talking thing, but a written thing; and written, not with a view of mere communication, but of permanence. The book of talk is printed only because its author cannot speak to thousands of people at once; if he could, he would—the volume is mere multiplication of his voice. You cannot talk to your friend in India; if you could, you would; you write instead: that is mere conveyance of voice. But a book is written, not to multiply the voice merely, not to carry it merely, but to perpetuate it. The author has something to say which he perceives to be


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 struggle, its toil, and suffering, will possess characteristics which would probably be unthinkable in the social order of a triumphant Socialism.

But the question arises whether this struggling proletariat really has a culture of any sort. Most certainly. In the first place, it possesses in Marxism all that is essential—the fine and powerful investigation of social phenomena, the basis of sociology and political economy, the cornerstone of the philosophic conception of the world. In these the proletariat is already in possession of treasures which can bear comparison with the most brilliant achievements of the human brain.Moreover, in many countries the proletariat has evinced a remarkable organising power in the political sphere. It is true that the dead creation of the past still holds the new life in its arms; the bourgeois parliamentarianism and nationalism has permeated the young political organism of the proletarian parties and of the Workers’ International itself.

The crisis is acute; the disease, of which the left Social Democrats gave warning whilst it was yet in its incubatory period, is most virulent—indeed, many asserted that it would prove fatal—but one can even now declare that it will be overcome and utilised, and that the political organisations of the proletariat will emerge from the fearful ordeal stronger and more influential than ever.

In the economic aspects of the struggle, one cannot say that the ideal of the thinkers and tacticians of the trade union movement has been reached; but one must be filled with admiration for the complicated and beautiful structure of the industrial and craft organisation which, though as yet incomplete, impresses both friend and foe.

All working-class organisations have undergone a wonderful development.

The International Congress of Stuttgart imbued the trade union movement with Socialist ideals, and by its famous resolution placed the movement on a level with the political Socialist Party.

The Congress of Copenhagen practically did the same for the co-operative (?) movement, and there was every reason to hope that the Congress of Vienna would emphasise the vast importance of the fourth form of proletarian culture, namely, the struggle for education.

The development of the educational movement is seen in the foundation of proletarian colleges by many Socialist parties, the transference to Socialist organisations of a number


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 of the peace, perpetual councilors, and so on, but no noblemen."

"Why, then, do you come?"

"From habit, to keep up relations; from a sort of moral obligation. And then, if I must tell the truth, I came on a question of personal interest. My son-in-law wants to be elected as a perpetual councilor; he's not rich; I must try to help him. But why do such people as that come?" and he pointed out the orator whose sharp voice had struck Levin during the debates at the governor's table.

"It is a new generation of nobles."

"Certainly new, but not nobles. They are landholders, but we are the proprietors. But they are trying to get the power as if they were nobles."

"Yes, but you say it is a decaying institution?"

"Decaying or not decaying, it must be treated more respectfully. Even though Snetkof .... We may not be worth much, but, nevertheless, we have lasted a thousand years. Suppose you lay out a new garden before your house and there happens to be a century-old tree which has grown up on your land. .... Though the tree is old and gnarled, you don't have it cut down, but you lay out your walks and your flower-beds in such a way as to preserve intact the old oak. You can't grow such a tree in one year," said he, cautiously, and immediately changed the conversation. "Well, how do matters go with you?"

"Not very brilliantly; five per cent!"

"Yes, but you don't reckon your own time and labor. Now, I will tell you about myself. Up to the time when I began to take care of my own estate, and while I was still in the service, I used to receive three thousand a year. Now I work harder than when I was in the service, and I also get about five per cent, and am lucky if I get that. And all my time and trouble are thrown in."

"But why do you do so if the results are so unprofitable?"

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 and wanted his father to pray for him. He could not pray. God showed him what he was, and what he was doing. He began to pray for himself. While praying he fell in a trance, and saw all the horrors of hell. He was falling in. After a terrible struggle God saved him. He went to work to win souls for Christ. I have heard him tell his awful experience to thousands. Not less than five hundred were saved in one week, and hundreds after the meeting closed, as the result. Men and women were converted miles from the church. Many were struck down, and lay like dead men, on their way home, and miles away from the meeting. Would to God the people could see that it is the mighty moving power of God we need to save the people, as on the day of Pentecost, when three thousand souls were saved.

The closing scenes of this meeting were very affecting, and the meeting was one of unusual interest, being the last of the series. Many bright testimonies were given by those who were converted.

“No pen, save that of the recording angel, could describe the scenes enacted here to-night. Almost the whole house was transformed into an altar, and cries of mercy from many scores were mingled with shouts of victory. No one can prophecy where this work will end. Many superstitious persons stay away for fear of Mrs. W.’s power to overcome them. Others refuse to shake her hand.

“She came to us, as she does to all her appointments, with the earnest and hearty recommendations of her former neighbors and friends. Letters are now in our midst, and can be seen at any time, from prominent citizens, which sustain her as an energetic, whole-souled Christian lady. Whatever may be said of the trances, there is no denying the fact that her meetings are productive of great good, and that when the sheaves are finally bound for eternity many will bless the name of the evangelist.”—Indianapolis Journal.

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 of the hind and doe which constitute soine of the most valuable portions of Harvey's work. Interwoven with these observations, we find con- stant reference to the doctrines of Aristotle and of Fabricius, together with occasional quotations of the opinions of others; and when to these are added the speculations of Harvey himself, which we find scattered through every portion not only of the Exercises but also of the four additional essays with which the work concludes, we shall have enumerated the leading features of Harvey's remarkable and most interesting treatise.

Remarkable and most interesting it may well be termed, when we consider the circumstances under which its composition was attempted; for scarcely were any of the facts yet discovered upon which a consistent theory of generation might be based. Not one, indeed, of the main points. which constitute the foundation of our present views regarding the physiology of this subject, had yet been ascertained. A long interval had still to be bridged over before the first of these elementary facts was fully established. And when now, looking back upon the past, we see with what persevering industry, and by what a long


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 "Yes, why do I? What shall I say? Habit, and because I know it has got to be done. I will tell you something besides," continued the proprietor, leaning his elbow on the window-seat and falling into a tone of monologue, "my son has no taste for farming. He is evidently going to be a scholar. So there'll be no one to carry it on after me. And yet one goes ahead. Here I've just planted a garden."

"Yes, yes," said Levin. "You are quite right. I always am conscious that there's no real economy in my farming, but still I go on with it. .... But one feels that one owes a certain duty to the land."

"Now I will tell you another thing," continued the proprietor. "A neighbor, a merchant, came to see me. We went over the farm, and then the garden. 'Well, Stepan Vasilyevitch, your place is in order,' said he, 'but your garden has too much shade.' But he found it in order, mind you. 'My advice would be, cut down those lindens. Just for the bark. Here are a thousand lindens. Each one will make two excellent basts, and basts sell well. If I were you, I should cut some of that linden trash down and sell it.'"

"Yes, and with the money he would buy cattle, or perhaps a bit of ground cheap, and he would lease it to the peasants," said Levin, with a smile, for evidently he had more than once come in contact with similar cases. "And so he makes a fortune. But you and I thank God if we keep our land, and are able to leave it to our children."

"You are married, I have heard?"

"Yes," replied Levin, with proud satisfaction. "It is wonderful! We live without making any profit, obliged, like ancient vestals, to watch some holy fire."

The old gentleman smiled under his white mustache.

"Some people, like our friend Sviazhsky and Count Vronsky, pretend to make something by agriculture; but so far they have only succeeded in eating into their capital."

"Why shouldn't we imitate the merchants, and cut

title: Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/878