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584 his hair, and the other one had my note-book, and was reading a page of humorous notes and crying. I did not mind the one with the hair-brush, but the conduct of the other one hurt me; it hurts me yet. I threw something at him, and that was wrong, for my host had told me that the monkeys were best left alone. They threw everything at me that they could lift, and then went into the bathroom to get some more things, and I shut the door on them.

At Jeypore, in Rajputana, we made a considerable stay. We were not in the native city, but several miles from it, in the small European official suburb. There were but few Europeans—only fourteen—but they were all kind and hospitable, and it amounted to being at home. In Jeypore we found again what we had found all about India—that while the Indian servant is in his way a very real treasure, he will sometimes bear watching, and the Englishman watches him. If he sends him on an errand, he wants more than the man's word for it that he did the errand. When fruit and vegetables were sent to us, a "chit" came with them—a receipt for us to sign; otherwise the things might not arrive. If a gentleman sent up his carriage, the chit stated "from" such-and-such an hour "to" such-and-such an hour—which made it unhandy for the coachman and his two or three subordinates to put us off with a part of the allotted time and devote the rest of it to a lark of their own.

We were pleasantly situated in a small two-storied inn, in an empty large compound which was surrounded by a mud wall as high as a man's head. The inn was kept by nine Hindoo brothers, its owners. They lived, with their families, in a one-storied building within the compound, but off to one side, and there was always a long pile of their little comely brown children loosely stacked in its veranda, and a detachment of the parents wedged among them, smoking the hookah or the


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610 itself by catching birds and frogs and rats in the neighboring fields. It was plain that no one at the table doubted this statement.

By and by, in the course of some talk about custom-house annoyances, the captain brought out the following simple everyday incident, but through his infirmity of style managed to tell it in such a way that it got no credence. He said:

"I went ashore at Naples one voyage when I was in that trade, and stood around helping my passengers, for I could speak a little Italian. Two or three times, at intervals, the officer asked me if I had anything dutiable about me, and seemed more and more put out and disappointed every time I told him no. Finally a passenger whom I had helped through asked me to come out and take something. I thanked him, but excused myself, saying I had taken a whisky just before I came ashore.

"It was a fatal admission. The officer at once made me pay sixpence import-duty on the whisky—just from ship to shore, you see; and he fined me £5 for not declaring the goods, another £5 for falsely denying that I had anything dutiable about me, also £5 for concealing the goods, and £50 for smuggling, which is the maximum penalty for unlawfully bringing in goods under the value of sevenpence ha'penny. Altogether, sixty-five pounds sixpence for a little thing like that."

The Scot is always believed, yet he never tells anything but lies; whereas the captain is never believed, although he never tells a lie, so far as I can judge. If he should say his uncle was a male person, he would probably say it in such a way that nobody would believe it; at the same time the Scot could claim that he had a female uncle and not stir a doubt in anybody's mind. My own luck has been curious all my literary life; I never could tell a lie that anybody would doubt, nor a truth that anybody would believe.

Lots of pets on board—birds and things. In these far

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


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636 zigzag path through the fields of stars in the deeps of space; and this soft picture will remind him of the time that he sat in the midst of it and told his poor little tale and felt so lonesome when he got through.

Fifty Indians and Chinamen asleep in a big tent in the waist of the ship forward; they lie side by side with no space between; the former wrapped up, head and all, as in the Indian

streets, the Chinamen uncovered; the lamp and things for opium smoking in the center.

A passenger said it was ten 2-ton truck loads of dynamite that lately exploded at Johannesburg. Hundreds killed; he doesn't know how many; limbs picked up for miles around. Glass shattered, and roofs swept away or collapsed 200 yards off; fragment of iron flung three and a half miles.


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process


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50

O Love, unconquered in fight, the rich thou dost raid;

Thou makest thy couch in the night on the cheeks of a maid;

And thou rangest over the sea, in the rural home;

And no one escapes thee where’er thou dost roam;

Neither god nor mortal man thy will can resist;

Thou assailest, inspiring with frenzy, the one thou dost list.

E’en the souls of the just to their ruin thou turnest astray:

’T is thou that this feud hast excited ’mong kinsmen to-day;

The love-light so clear in the eyes of the bride is victorious,

It sits high enthroned by the side of the laws ever glorious,

The unwritten laws acknowledged by men.—Aphrodite

Is working her will, invincible, mighty.

But I myself am carried amain

Past the bound of laws, and cannot restrain

The gush of the tears as I behold

Antigone passing now to the hall

Where Death receives and lodges all.

Antigone.

Ye behold me, citizens of my native land,

Setting forth on my last journey, to that strand

Where I gaze

A farewell to these rays

Of the sun, where the light I never again shall see;

Dread Hades, who layeth all men to sleep, doth lead

Me still living to Acheron’s shore; no marriage my meed,

And no song

To which bridals belong

Hath been mine, for Acheron’s bride I shall be.

Yea, but with glory and praise

Dost thou depart to end thy days,

Ne’er smitten with wasting disease,

Nor finding the wage of the sword; but to these

Who live in the silent home of the dead

Thou dost descend of thy own free will, unwed,


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662 wanted the existing one reformed; apparently very few wanted the revolution to take place in the interest and under the ultimate shelter of the Imperial flag—British; yet a report began to spread that Mr. Rhodes's embarrassing assistance had for its end this latter object.

Jameson was away up on the frontier tugging at his leash, fretting to burst over the border. By hard work the Reformers got his starting-date postponed a little, and wanted to get it postponed eleven days. Apparently, Rhodes's agents were seconding their efforts—in fact wearing out the telegraph wires trying to hold him back. Rhodes was himself the only man who could have effectively postponed Jameson, but that would have been a disadvantage to his scheme; indeed, it could spoil his whole two years' work.

Jameson endured postponement three days, then resolved to wait no longer. Without any orders—excepting Mr. Rhodes's significant silence—he cut the telegraph wires on the 29th, and made his plunge that night, to go to the rescue of the women and children, by urgent request of a letter now nine days old—as per date,—a couple of months old, in fact. He read the letter to his men, and it affected them. It did not affect all of them alike. Some saw in it a piece of piracy of doubtful wisdom, and were sorry to find that they had been assembled to violate friendly territory instead of to raid native kraals, as they had supposed.

Jameson would have to ride 150 miles. He knew that there were suspicions abroad in the Transvaal concerning him, but he expected to get through to Johannesburg before they should become general and obstructive. But a telegraph wire had been overlooked and not cut. It spread the news of his invasion far and wide, and a few hours after his start the Boer farmers were riding hard from every direction to intercept him.


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688 He is deeply religious, profoundly ignorant, dull, obstinate, bigoted, uncleanly in his habits, hospitable, honest in his dealings with the whites, a hard master to his black servant, lazy, a good shot, good horseman, addicted to the chase, a lover of political independence, a good husband and father, not fond of herding together in towns, but liking the seclusion and remoteness and solitude and empty vastness and silence of the veldt; a man of a mighty appetite, and not delicate about what he appeases it with—well-satisfied with pork and Indian corn and biltong, requiring only that the quantity shall not be stinted; willing to ride a long journey to take a hand in a rude all-night dance interspersed with vigorous feeding and boisterous jollity, but ready to ride twice as far for a prayer-meeting; proud of his Dutch and Huguenot origin and its religious and military history; proud of his race's achievements in South Africa, its bold plunges into hostile and uncharted deserts in search of free solitudes unvexed by the pestering and detested English, also its victories over the natives and the British; proudest of all, of the direct and effusive personal interest which the Deity has always taken in its affairs. He cannot read, he cannot write; he has one or two newspapers, but he is, apparently, not aware of it; until latterly he had no schools, and taught his children nothing; news is a term which has no meaning to him, and the thing itself he cares nothing about. He hates to be taxed and resents it. He has stood stock still in South Africa for two centuries and a half, and would like to stand still till the end of time, for he has no sympathy with Uitlander notions of progress. He is hungry to be rich, for he is human; but his preference has been for riches in cattle, not in fine clothes and fine houses and gold and diamonds. The gold and the diamonds have brought the godless stranger within his gates, also contamina-


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process


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SOPHOCLES. ’T is true, but alone shalt thou of all mortals

Pass down still alive through the Grave’s dark portals.

Antigone.

I have heard of another in days of eld who died

A miserable death, the Phrygian foreign bride

Of the king,

How the stone did cling

Like the growth of embracing ivy around her;

There high on Sipylus’ crest, they say,

The daughter of Tantalus wastes away,

And the rain

As tears fall amain

From her eyelids.—Like mine is the fate that bound her.

Yet she was immortal, and born divine,

While we are of earth, and of mortal line.

And surely for thee to have the renown

Of sharing the fate of a god, passing down

To Hades from life, and praise after death,—

This is something at least that comforteth.

Antigone.

Alas! I am mocked! In the name of the gods of my sires,

Why torture the maiden before she expires,

O my city,

Men of wealth without pity?

Dircæan fount, Thebé’s holy domain,

My appeal to you will, I know, not be vain;

How I go unwept, you at least witness will bear,

For what reason

I pass to the prison,

No home with the dead, no home with the living can share.

To the limit of rashness thou hast proceeded

’Gainst the throne where Law sits on high dashed unheeded

With measureless force—but bequeathed to thee

From thy father’s sin this ordeal may be.


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: The Congressional Budget Act of 1974 (P.L. 93-344), as amended. U.S. Congress, House Committee on the Budget, Bipartisan Budget Act of 2013, 113th Congress, 2nd session, February 2014 (Washington: GPO, 2014), pp. 275-352.


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: S.Con.Res. 11 (114th Congress).


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: S.Con.Res. 13 (111th Congress).


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: S.Con.Res. 21 (110th Congress)

Source: Subtitle C of the Budget Enforcement Act of 1990 (Title XIII of the Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act of 1990).


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52

Antigone.

Thou hast touched on the thought that pains most of all

With thy thrice-told tale of my father’s fall,

And the doom

Long ago in the loom

That was woven for all the Labdacidæ.

Alas for the curse of the bed where the mother lay

With her son, my sire, the bed where I first saw the day.

To the dead

I go curst and unwed—

For thy bridal, dear brother, thy death, I must die.

Thy pious deed doth merit full praise;

But a king must give heed that his subject obeys,

Whenever his will has been once proclaimed—

For thy death thy temper alone can be blamed.

Antigone.

Unmourned, unbefriended, unwed

I am led

On the journey forlorn to the grave, alone,

Ne’er again may behold the bright light of the sun,

No tear for me falls, my race is run.

For me, hapless girl, no friend maketh moan.

Do you not know that if it aught availed

To sing their dirges thus and make their moans

Before death, criminals would never cease

Their lamentations? Quick! Away with her!

And when the vaulted tomb has closed her in,

Forsaken and alone, as I have said,

Let her remain within the cell,—to die

Or live, as she prefers, in such a tomb.

She had my warning and my hands are clean,

Without the taint of blood,—but she shall be

At least deprived of living in the light.

[Exit C.


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: H.Res. 5 (114th Congress).


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SOPHOCLES. O grave, my bridal-chamber, prison-home

Eternal in the rocky cavern, where

I go to meet my own, the many whom

In death Persephone among the dead

Hath lodged; and last and by the cruellest fate

Of all, I now pass down to her, before

I reach my term of life. Yet when I come,

I entertain the hope that I may win

From thee a loving welcome, father, one

From thee, my mother, and no less from thee

My own dear brother, since this hand it was

That washed and dressed you for the tomb and poured

The last libations at your grave; and now,

Dear Polyneices, this is my reward

For tending thus thy corpse—for what transgression?

What law of heaven have I broken? Why

Should I, unhappy woman, raise my eye

To Heaven any more? What god invoke

To succor me?—when I have earned the name

Of irreligion for my piety.

Well, if such acts in Heaven find approval,

Then, when I meet my doom, I ’ll recognize

The fact that I have sinned; but if they sin

Who judge, may they ne’er suffer—hear my prayer—

More pain than they unjustly make me bear.

The same fierce gusts of passion blow

And make this maiden’s soul to glow.

Her guards then shall have cause to wail,

If they to do my bidding fail.

Ah me! That dread command comes near

To death! To death!

With no hope can I give thee cheer,

For unto death, indeed, thou ’rt near.

O city of my fathers, Thebes,

Ancestral gods,


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Points of Order in the Congressional Budget Process

Source: P.L. 111-139.

Author Contact Information

James V. Saturno Specialist on Congress and the Legislative Process jsaturno@undefinedcrs.loc.gov, 7-2381 Congressional Research Service


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 provides examples of such specific statements. The case involved a claim under § 349 against cigarette manufacturers, alleging deceptive practices. In the 175-page complaint, filed on April 29, 1998, the plaintiffs including a number of specific allegations of deceptive acts and practices, including the following: Many of the practices were found to have supported liability in the opinion on which the plaintiffs rely. Blue Cross and Blue Shield of New Jersey, 178 F.Supp.2d at 269–70. Because such statement are necessarily “consumer-oriented” and thus in the public domain, plaintiffs should be able similarly to point to the specific statements that form the basis of their claims pursuant to §§ 349 and 350.
 * a statement that “no causal link between smoking and disease has been established” (Blue Cross Complaint, ¶ 112);
 * a letter to a grade school principal stating that “scientists don’t know the cause of causes of the chronic diseases reported to be associated with smoking” (Id., ¶ 113);
 * testimony under oath by a tobacco executive that he did not believe that people die from smoking (Id., ¶ 114);
 * Congressional testimony by tobacco executives stating that tobacco companies did not manipulate, add, control or restore nicotine during the manufacturing process (Id., ¶ 219);
 * advertisements denying that tobacco companies believed cigarette smoking was addictive (Id., ¶ 220); and
 * statements in newspaper advertisements that claimed “Philip Morris does not believe that cigarette smoking is addictive” (Id., ¶ 221).

 * a. Count I

In Count I, plaintiffs allege that McDonalds violated the act both by commission (e.g., stating that its products were nutritious, encouraging consumers to “supersize” their meals without disclosing the negative health effects) and by omission (e.g., failing to provide nutritional information for products).

 * i. Deceptive Acts

Because the Complaint does not identify a single instance of deceptive acts, Count I shall be dismissed to the extent it alleges deceptive practices of commission in violation of §§ 349 and 350.

Although the Court is limited to allegations in the Complaint for the purposes of deciding this motion, Kramer, 937 F.2d at 773, it is worth noting that, even in their opposition papers, the plaintiffs only cite to two advertising campaigns (“McChicken Everyday!” and “Big N’ Tasty Everyday”) and to a statement on the McDonalds’McDonalds [sic] website that “McDonalds can be part of any balanced diet and lifestyle.” These are specific examples of practices, actacts [sic] or advertisements and would survive a motion to dismiss on the substantive issue of whether such practices, actacts [sic] or advertisements are deceptive is less clear. The two campaigns encouraging daily forays to McDonalds and the statement regarding making McDonalds a part of a balanced diet, if read together, may be seen as contradictory—a balanced diet likely does not permit eating at McDonalds everyday. However, the advertisements encouraging persons to eat at McDonalds “everyday!” do not include any indication


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54 They lead me hence, they lead me—nay,

Ye Theban princes!—Now away

They drag me to my doom, behold!

The only daughter of your old

And glorious house of kings, the last,

And in a dungeon to be cast,

Alone,—the only princess left

Of kindred and of aid bereft.

See, what I suffer at their hands

For doing what the law of holiness demands!

[Antigone is led off R. by the guards.

E’en thus did the beautiful Danaë

Endure to exchange the light of day

For a dwelling bound with brass,

And a prisoner in that grave-like room,

Though of noble birth, was she held, while as groom

To the bride did Zeus to her pass,

In a shower of golden rain his seed

Entrusted to her. Dread and mighty, indeed,

Is the baneful force of fate;

Neither wealth nor war nor towers strong

Nor wave-beaten ships by the winds swept along

Can deliver from powers so great.

And immured in a prison of stone, and tamed,

The king of Edonians, Quick-temper named,

Son or Dryas, the god Dionysus

Made atone for the taunt he in madness flung.

There the wrath in his heart, for his rashness of tongue,

Doth simmer down slow whence it rises.

He found too late ’t was a god had appeared

That with mocking tongue he rashly had jeered,

When the Mænads all frenzied, possessed

With the fire Bacchanalian, he began to abuse,

And stirred to fierce anger the flute-loving Muse—

Thus dearly he paid for his jest.


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SOPHOCLES.

By the double sea and the rocks dark-blue

Stand Bosporus’ heights where the waters gush through—

Salmydessus of Thrace.

There Ares that hard by the city dwelt

Saw the wound in savage fury dealt,

The accursed blow in the face

Of the two sons of Phineus by his cruel wife

With her shuttle in bloody hands, like a knife—

Full into the orbs of sight

The blinding murderous dagger was driven;

And those eyes appealed mutely for vengeance to Heaven

Out of their darkness of night.

Their pitiful doom, as the hours sped,

Did those sons of a mother unhappily wed

In misery pining bewail;

Yet her ancestors came of a noble race,

The Erechtheidæ—in a far distant place

That child of the Northern Gale

Fleet of foot as a steed o’er the hills, in a cave

Mid the Thracian storms of her father that rave

Round the mountain, was cradled and nursed—

A child of the gods was she, O my daughter,

Yet the fates all hoary with age, they sought her,—

Be content, thy doom’s not the worst.

My lords of Thebes, joint journey have we made,

Directed by the eyes of one,—the blind

Must ever walk depending on a guide.

What tidings, aged Teiresias, dost bring?

I ’ll teach thee—listen to the prophet’s voice.

Thy counsel I have never disregarded.

And for that reason steered the state aright.

Thy service my experience attests.


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last satires were published in 1738. Six years of life still remained to Pope; his intellectual powers were still vigorous, and his pleasure in their exercise had not ceased. The only fruit, however, of his labours during this period was the fourth book of the Dunciad. He spent much time upon bringing out new editions of his works, and upon the various intrigues connected with the Swift correspondence. But his health was beginning to fail. The ricketty framework was giving way, and failing to answer the demands of the fretful and excitable brain. In the spring of 1744 the poet was visibly breaking up; he suffered from dropsical asthma, and seems to have made matters worse by putting himself in the hands of a notorious quack—a Dr. Thomson. The end was evidently near as he completed his fifty-sixth year. Friends, old and new, were often in attendance. Above all, Bolingbroke, the venerated friend of thirty years' standing; Patty Blount, the woman whom he loved best; and the excellent Spence, who preserved some of the last words of the dying man. The scene, as he saw it, was pathetic; perhaps it is not less pathetic to us, for whom it has another side as of grim tragic humour.

Three weeks before his death Pope was sending off

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 copies of the Ethic Epistles—apparently with the Atossa lines—to his friends. "Here I am, like Socrates," he said, "dispensing my morality amongst my friends just as I am dying." Spence watched him as anxiously as his disciples watched Socrates. He was still sensible to kindness. Whenever Miss Blount came in, the failing spirits rallied for a moment. He was always saying something kindly of his friends, "as if his humanity had outlasted his understanding." Bolingbroke, when Spence made the remark, said that he had never known a man with so tender a heart for his own friends or for mankind. "I have known him," he added, "these thirty years, and value myself more for that man's love than—" and his voice was lost in tears. At moments Pope could still be playful. "Here I am, dying of a hundred good symptoms," he replied to some flattering report, but his mind was beginning to wander. He complained of seeing things as through a curtain. "What's that?" he said, pointing to the air, and then, with a smile of great pleasure, added softly, twas a vision." His religious sentiments still edified his hearers. "I am so certain," he said, "of the soul's being immortal, that I seem to feel it within me, as it were by intuition;" and early one morning he rose from bed and tried to begin an essay upon immortality, apparently in a state of semi-delirium. On his last day he sacrificed, as Chesterfield rather cynically observes, his cock to . Hooke, a zealous Catholic friend, asked him whether he would not send for a priest. "I do not suppose that it is essential," said Pope," but it will look right, and I heartily thank you for putting me in mind of it." A priest was brought, and Pope received the last sacraments with great fervour and resignation. Next day, on May 30th, 1744, he died so

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 that doing so is part of a well-balanced diet, and the plaintiffs fail to cite any advertisement where McDonalds asserts that its products may be eaten for every meal of every day without any ill consequences. Merely encouraging consumers to eat its products “everyday” is mere puffery, at most, in the absence of a claim that to do so will result in a specific effect on health. As a result, the claims likely would not be actionable if alleged. See ''Cytyc Corp. v. Neuromedical Sys. Inc., 12 F.Supp.2d 296, 301 (S.D.N.Y.1998) (“the sort of subjective claims of product quality at issue here are nonactionable”); Lipton v. Nature Co., 71 F.3d 464, 474 (2d Cir.1995) (finding claim of “thorough” research to be “mere puffery” and not actionable as false advertising under § 43(a) of Lanham Act); Chevy’s Int’l Inc. v. Sal De Enters., Inc.'', 697 F.Supp. 110, 112 (E.D.N.Y.1988) (“that characterization, even if factually incorrect, was standard industry puffing that does not rise to the level of consumer deception”).

On December 11, 2002, the Court accepted from plaintiffs a number of documents concerning actions taken against McDonalds’ advertising practices in the late 1980’s1980s [sic] by the state attorneys general from several states, including New York State. While any claim based on the advertisements at issue would be time barred, Morelli v. Weider Nutrition Group, Inc., 275 A.D.2d 607, 608, 712 N.Y.S.2d 551 (1st Dep’t 2000) (three-year limitations period for deceptive practices actions), a review of those advertisements and the state attorney generals’ analysis of them may assist plaintiffs in shaping a claim under the Consumer Protection Act. For instance, by letter dated April 24, 1987 (the “Abrams Letter”), Robert Abrams, the then-Attorney General of the State of New York, addressed several specific allegedly deceptive claims in McDonalds advertisements:

1. The advertisement discussing salt (sodium) content in foods says, “Our sodium is down across the menu.” (emphasis added) This is not true. That same advertisement lists four products (regular fries, regular cheeseburger, 6-piece McNuggets, and vanilla milkshake), none of which have had their sodium content lowered in the past year.


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56 Take heed! Thou standest on the verge of fate.

What meanest thou? Thy message makes me quake.

Hear thou the warning tokens of my art

And thou wilt know. No sooner had I ta’en

My seat in my accustomed place, to hear

The birds that flocked around my ancient seat

Of divination, when I heard a strange

And unfamiliar sound among the screams

Of rage ill-omened, cries confused that made

Their wonted language clear sound like a jargon.

And I perceived that with their talons they

Were clawing one another savagely;

The whirr of wings proclaimed the carnage there.

Alarmed, I tried at once burnt-sacrifice

Upon a kindled altar, but no flame

Leaped from the offerings—an ooze, instead,

Of moisture forth upon the embers dripped,

Exuding from the thigh-bones, smoked and spewed,

The bursting gall was scattered through the air,

While all the fat which had enwrapped the thighs

Was melted off, ran down in streams, and left

The thigh-bones bare. Such failing oracles

Derived from auguries that failed to yield

A sign, this boy informed me of; for he

Doth act as guide to me, as I to others.

And ’t is thy will that brings this malady

Upon the state. For all our altars are defiled,

Our hearths by dogs and vultures, with the food

Torn from the fallen son of Œdipus

Ill-starred. And so the gods do not accept

Our prayers and sacrifices now, nor flame

Of thigh-bones; and no bird shrieks forth its cry

Of warning, forasmuch as all have made

A slain man’s gore their succulent repast.

Think then, my son, on this. A man may err;

But erring, if he cure the ill, stiffnecked

Remain not in his error quite immovable,

No longer he insensate and unblest.

For folly still is born of stubbornness:


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SOPHOCLES. The stupid man is deaf to all advice.

Yield to the dead man and concede his claim.

Stab not the fallen—he is dead: to slay

The slain again no valor manifests.

’T is my good will to thee that bids me speak.

There ’s nothing sweeter than from him to learn

Who gives advice that doth some profit earn.

Old man, as archers at their targets, all

Direct your shafts at me, and in your plots

Resort to seer-craft now to gain your ends.

Am I to be the traffic of the tribe

And bought and sold like merchandise? Heap up

Your profits, drive your trade in Sardian silver,

And in the gold of India, if you wish;

But that man ye shall not entomb, I swear,

Not even if the wingéd hounds of Zeus,

The eagles, in their talons should desire

To snatch him up, and morsels of his flesh

Bear skyward to the throne of Zeus,—e’en so,

In fear of even that defilement, none

Shall bury him, for well I know that man

Cannot defile a god. But shamefully

The cunning fall, Teiresias, when they

Make shameful words seem fair for sake of gain.

Ah! Knoweth any man, considereth—

Know what? Deliver, pray, the maxim whole.

Of all things prudence is how far the best!

As far as imprudence, methinks, the worst.

Yet with this very malady thou ’rt sick.

With taunt I would not meet the prophet’s taunt.

You do, pronouncing false my prophecy.

The whole seer tribe hath ever itching palms.

No less the tribe of tyrants loves base gain.

Do you not realize that means your king?

I do; from me you learned to save the state.

A clever seer, but fond of wickedness.


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 peacefully that his friends could not determine the exact moment of death.

It was a soft and touching end; and yet we must once more look at the other side. Warburton and Bolingbroke both appear to have been at the side of the dying man, and before very long they were to be quarrelling over his grave. Pope's will showed at once that his quarrels were hardly to end with his death. He had quarrelled, though the quarrel had been made up, with the generous Allen, for some cause not ascertainable, except that it arose from the mutual displeasure of Mrs. Allen and Miss Blount. It is pleasant to notice that, in the course of the quarrel, Pope mentioned Warburton, in a letter to Miss Blount, as a sneaking parson; but Warburton was not aware of the flash of sarcasm. Pope, as Johnson puts it, "polluted his will with female resentment." He left a legacy of 150l. to Allen, being, as he added, the amount received from his friend—for himself or for charitable purposes; and requested Allen, if he should refuse the legacy for himself, to pay it to the Bath Hospital. Allen adopted this suggestion, saying quietly that Pope had always been a bad accountant, and would have come nearer the truth if he had added a cypher to the figures.

Another fact came to light, which produced a fiercer outburst. Pope, it was found, had printed a whole edition (1500 copies) of the Patriot King, Bolingbroke's most polished work. The motive could have been nothing but a desire to preserve to posterity what Pope considered to be a monument worthy of the highest genius, and was so far complimentary to Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke, however, considered it as an act of gross treachery. Pope had received the work on condition of keeping it strictly

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 2. The advertisement touting the “real” milk in McDonald’s shakes says that they contain “Wholesome milk, natural sweeteners, a fluid ounce of flavoring, and stabilizers for consistency. And that’s all.” In fact, that’s not really all. McDonald’s own ingredient booklet shows that a typical shake, such as vanilla or strawberry, actually contains artificial flavor and sodium benzoate and sodium hexametaphosphate, two chemical preservatives. This advertisement tells only part of the story.

3. The cholesterol advertisement emphasizes the relatively low (29 milligrams) cholesterol content of the regular hamburger, but does not even mention the saturated fat content, a fact much more relevant to those with cause for concern about heart disease. Abrams Letter, at 1–2.

 * ii. Deceptive Omissions

The second subset of Claim I focuses on McDonalds’ failure to label its foods with their nutritional content. Unlike above, the plaintiffs clearly have outlined the allegedly deceptive practice: the fact that McDonalds failed to post nutritional labeling on the products and at points of purchase. However, because this is a purportedly deceptive act based on an omission, it is not sufficient for the plaintiffs to point to the omission alone. They must also show why the omission was deceptive—a duty they have shunned.

The New York Court of Appeals has addressed what § 349 requires in a situation involving an allegedly deceptive omission. Oswego Laborers’ Local 214 Pension Fund v. Marine Midland Bank, 85 N.Y.2d 20, 25–26, 623 N.Y.S.2d 529, 532, 647 N.E.2d 741 (1995) (Kaye, C.J.) involved a claim that defendant bank acted deceptively in not informing the plaintiff that for-profit entities would not receive interest on accounts in excessive of $100,000. The Court reasoned that in a case involving omissions, “the statute surely does not require businesses to ascertain consumers’ individual needs and guarantee that each consumer has all relevant information specific to its situation.” Id. It provided an exception, however, “where the business alone possesses material information that is relevant to the consumer and fails to provide this information.” Id. It was thus held that the plaintiffs had stated a cause of action, but that liability would turn on whether the plaintiffs possessed, or could reasonably have obtained, the information regarding interest on for-profit entities’ accounts in excess of $100,000. Id. at 27, 623 N.Y.S.2d 529, 647 N.E.2d 741; see also ''Super Glue v. Avis Rent A Car Sys. Inc.'', 159 A.D.2d 68, 71, 557 N.Y.S.2d 959, 961 (2d Dep’t 1990) (rejecting claim for deceptive practices based on Avis’s failure to disseminate information that its Collision Damage Waiver insurance duplicated the plaintiffs’ own automobile insurance because Avis had no duty to inform where the customer with CDW coverage in place was in a far better position to ascertain the relevant conditions and exclusions relating to his or her coverage than Avis).

The plaintiffs fail to allege that the information with regard to the nutritional content of McDonalds’ products was solely within McDonalds’ possession or that a consumer could not reasonably obtain such information. It cannot be assumed that the nutritional content of McDonalds’ products and their usage was solely within the possession of McDonalds.


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60

We have now seen how, step by step, as by a resistless nemesis the rival Theosophical leaders were led on to bring their quarrel to that which neither of them had much stomach for—an inquiry into evidence. Bluff meeting bluff, the thing got as far as the summoning from three continents of a Committee of Investigation representing both parties. “Investigating” hidden forces in nature, as we saw in, is one of the professed “Objects” of the Theosophical Society. The present chapter is to show what the Theosophical idea of investigating is like.

There lies before me a pamphlet, reprinted from Lucifer of August last, which bears the facetious title, “AN INQUIRY Into


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Rh Certain Charges against the Vice-President, Held in London, July 1894.” Anybody is at liberty to get this publication—and make what head or tail of it he can.

The plain matter of fact which lay behind the proceedings in question was this. Mrs. Besant and Colonel Olcott had given away their friends and compromised with Judge on the terms that he should give Olcott back his presidency, Judge’s election thereto being declared null and void, while they on their part should suppress the evidence which the Judicial Committee had been summoned to report on.

Mr. Judge had protested in a vehement circular, when first called on by the President to appear before the committee, against one of his accusers proposing to preside at his trial. There was reason in the objection at the time. He could not foresee that the proceedings would take the form of the presiding judge and the counsel for the prosecution combining to prevent the case from going to the jury.

This being the plain English of the affair, let us now see how it reads translated into what I may call Theosophistry.

The first part of the pamphlet consists of the Judicial Committee’s minutes. Of this, six-sevenths is devoted to an “Address of the President-Founder” proving that they ought to do nothing. The remaining page is devoted to doing it.

The “charges of misconduct preferred by Mrs. Besant against the vice-president” are nowhere formally stated at all. They are incidentally summarised by the president as follows:—

“That he practised deception in sending false messages, orders, and letters, as if sent and written by ‘Masters.’ … That he was untruthful in various other instances enumerated.”

The bulk of the address is occupied in discussing with great solemnity various reasons alleged by Mr. Judge why these charges should not be gone into by the committee.

One or two of these, such as the vice-president’s discovery that he had never been really vice-president at all, and the contention that,


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 Rh The Orchid book was Darwin's first venture into botany and it established his position there as other books had established it in geology and zoology. In 1864 he published a paper on Climbing Plants—an effort which cost him four months of labor. Again illness interfered, and the paper was so badly written, and so obscurely phrased that it received little attention. Eleven years later it was rewritten into a book and became very popular.

In 1868 the first volume of the detailed studies of evolution appeared. Of it Darwin says, "It was a big book, and cost me four years and two months hard labour. It gives all my observations and an immense number of facts collected from various sources, about our domestic productions. In the second volume the causes and laws of variation, inheritance, etc., are discussed as far as our present state of Our knowledge permits. Towards the end of the work I give my well abused hypothesis Of Pangenesis." This, briefly stated, supposes that the countless cells which compose the body of an animal or plant are continually throwing off tiny granules, far too small to be seen even microscopically, that accumulate in the reproductive system. Instead of developing in the next generation they may be transmitted in an inactive or dormant state to several generations, and then suddenly become developed. Various combinations of these granules are supposed to influence their appearance or dormancy in the various generations. As a hypothesis Pangenesis was suggestive but not very satisfactory when put to practice, and


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 private, and showing it to only a few friends. Moreover, he had corrected it, arranged it, and altered or omitted passages according to his own taste, which naturally did not suit the author's. In 1749 Bolingbroke gave a copy to Mallet for publication, and prefixed an angry statement to expose the breach of trust of "a man on whom the author thought he could entirely depend." Warburton rushed to the defence of Pope and the demolition of Bolingbroke. A savage controversy followed, which survives only in the title of one of Bolingbroke's pamphlets, A Familiar Epistle to the most Impudent Man living—a transparent paraphrase for Warburton. Pope's behaviour is too much of a piece with previous underhand transactions, but scarcely deserves further condemnation.

A single touch remains. Pope was buried, by his own directions, in a vault in Twickenham church, near the monument erected to his parents. It contained a simple inscription ending with the words "Parentibus bene merentibus filius fecit." To this, as he directed in his will, was to be added simply "et sibi." This was done; but seventeen years afterwards the clumsy Warburton erected in the same church another monument to Pope himself, with this stupid inscription. Poeta loquitur.

Most of us can tell from experience how grievously our posthumous ceremonials often jar upon the tenderest feelings of survivors. Pope's valued friends seem to have done their best to surround the last scene of his life with

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62 way the decision went, it must “offend the religious feelings” of some member or another, and that this was against the rules of the society—these were, after the due amount of pomposity, declared against by the president.

But there were two other pleas of such irresistible force and weight that the president found himself convinced by them “that this inquiry must go no further.” Stripped of prolix circumlocutions, these may be put as an alternative, thus:—

Either the Mahatma missives are genuine or they are fabricated.

(a) If found to be genuine, that implies the affirmation of the existence of Mahatmas as a Theosophic dogma, and the abandonment of the society’s precious “neutrality.” Which is unconstitutional.

(b) If found to be bogus missives produced by the vice-president, then it is obvious that he must have done it in his private capacity; the production of bogus documents being no part of his official duties. Therefore he cannot be tried for it by an official tribunal.

Could anything be more delicious than this dilemma? It is worthy of a trial scene in Gilbertian comic opera.

Mrs. Besant, like the president, was “convinced that the point was rightly taken.” There was nothing more to be said.

The Judicial Committee “resolved” in the same sense, without any inconvenient discussion, and forthwith committed hara-kiri with the complaisance of a Chinese nobleman. Not only had they not investigated the case, but, as far as I can make out, they had not even heard what it was, except in the most abstract of summaries. Having gravely adjusted the bandage over each other’s eyes, they separated with a good conscience. For many of them—worthy investigators!—I believe I am the first to remove the bandage, and set them blinking at the truth.

From (a) it follows, as the president pointed out en passant in the course of his Address, that every Theosophist is in future free to circulate Mahatma messages, but no Theosophist to test their genuineness.

From (b) it equally follows that no officer of the society is in future responsible to it for any misdeed whatever, since such misdeed cannot well be among his official duties.


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 34 it has been discarded in favor of later and more probable ideas.

The next important evolutionary work was the Descent of Man, published in February, 1871. Inasmuch as there is some misunderstanding as to the motive which forced Darwin to say but little of man in the Origin, and delay twelve years before publishing a book on the subject, it is worth while to give his own statement of the case:

… As soon as I had become, in the year 1837 or 1838, convinced that species were mutable productions, I could not avoid the belief that man must come under the same law. Accordingly I collected notes on the subject for my own satisfaction, and not for a long time with any intention of publishing. Although in the Origin of Species the derivation of any particular species is never discussed, yet I thought it best, in order that honourable man should accuse me of concealing my views, to add that by the work "light would be thrown on the origin of man and his history." It would have been useless and injurious to the success of the book to have paraded, without giving any evidence, my convinction with respect to origin.

But when I found that many naturalists fully accepted the doctrine of the evolution of species, it seemed to me advisable to work up such notes as I possessed, and to publish a special treatise on the origin of man. I was the more glad to do so, as it gave me an opportunity of fully discussing sexual selection—a subject which had always greatly interested me. This subject, and that of the varia-


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Rh Perhaps it is not very surprising that the result of the Judicial Committee, which had been gathered to its task from the ends of the earth, was received with disgust by the generality of members then met in London for one of their interminable conventions. A demand was even heard for a private jury of honour; or, failing that, for publication of the case for both sides, the course to which one side, as we saw, had affected to pledge itself. Mr. Judge found himself unable to refuse his assent to the jury proposal. Again, Mrs. Besant dashed in and triumphed in the sacred cause of obscurantism. At the third session of the convention she announced that she and Mr. Judge had agreed upon a couple of statements representing their different points of view, and proposed that the convention should hear these, accept them, and let the matter drop. These two statements compose the second part of the pamphlet; and they are at least as bewildering as the first.

“We come to you, Our brothers, to tell you what is in our hearts,” Mrs. Besant read out. Her endeavour to “tell” fills four pages. The following are the sentences which gyrate least round the point:—

The rest of Mrs. Besant’s statement is easily summarised. Part is devoted to minimising the importance of the question whether Mr.


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64 Judge wrote, or the Mahatma precipitated, the letters, by remarking that after all it did not matter so very much, as Mahatmas sometimes communicate (like spiritualist “controls”) by allowing ordinary people to write for them. “It is important,” quoth Mrs. Besant, naïvely, “that the small part generally played by Masters in these phenomena should be understood”—a remark with which the present writer quite agrees, and a main object of the present narrative. But in the sense in which Mrs. Besant meant it, it was not very relevant to an inquiry entirely dealing with letters passed off as having been precipitated, and precipitated without Mr. Judge’s knowledge, by the Mahatma himself.

Beyond this, Mrs. Besant’s statement consists about equally of blame directed at the untheosophical “vindictiveness” of Mr. Judge’s accusers in pressing an inquiry “painful” to Mr. Judge, and of laudatory tributes to the character and Theosophical activity of Mr. Judge himself.

Down Mrs. Besant sat, and up rose Mr. Judge, and read his statement. It contained the following sentences:—

Now, so far as these sentences were an answer at all to such charges as Mrs. Besant’s statement had allowed itself to convey, they were certainly a flat contradiction. But that point was naturally overlooked by eyes moist from the affecting “forgiveness” of Mr. Judge’s peroration, and his very handsome, if somewhat tautologously expressed, admission that he was only a “human being.” Without a word more, nemine contradicente, it was


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Rh

These resolutions were proposed by the Mr. Keightley (M.A. Cant.) whose name has occurred so often in our story among the bamboozled ones, and seconded by Dr. Buck, one of the nominees from Mr. Judge’s section to the abortive committee.

And there ends the Pamphlet—and the “Enquiry.” It has since appeared that the “joining of hands” between Mrs. Besant and Mr. Judge was for footlight purposes only; for no sooner was the curtain rung down than the two joint Outer Heads found they could no longer work together, and settled the matter by splitting the Esoteric section into independent dominions, Mr. Judge taking America, and Mrs. Besant Europe—to which she has since added India.

The result is one on which Mr. William Q. Judge must be congratulated. He retains all his offices as head of his lodge, of his section, and of the American Esoteric section; retains his vice-presidency of the whole society; retains the status of heir-presumptive, at least, to the presidency; retains, also, I suppose, either he or his Mahatma, the brass “flap-doodle,” to say nothing of the Blavatsky relic, with full freedom to continue using the same as heretofore.

In a word, the Theosophical Society has chosen to stand or fall with its vice-president.

Theosophy is a religion as well as a philosophy, and the T.S. masquerades as in some sort a Church. Imagine the situation, then, in any other religious denomination. Suppose that the Archbishop of Canterbury were to put forth missives which he alleged to have fluttered down direct from St. Augustine in heaven; and suppose after Convocation had governed the Church for years in conformity with


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the Caliph's death, his kinsfolk, and such as had helped in his defence, retired from the scene. The City was horror-struck. They had hardly anticipated the tragic end. Many who had favoured or even joined the rebels, started back now the deed was done. The relatives of the murdered Caliph fled to Mecca with vows of vengeance. A citizen of Medīna, wrapping carefully the severed fingers of Nāʾila in the blood-stained shirt of ʿOthmān, meet symbols of revenge, carried them off to Damascus, and laid them at Muʿāwiya's feet.

For several days anarchy reigned in Medīna. The regicides had mastery of the city. The Egyptians were foremost amongst these in the first days of terror; and prayer was conducted in the Mosque by their leader. Of the inhabitants few ventured out. At last on the fifth day the rebels insisted that, before they quitted Medīna, the citizens should elect a Caliph, and restore the empire to its normal state. Shrinking, no doubt, from the task which ʿOthmān's successor would have to face, ʿAlī held back, and offered to swear allegiance to either Ṭalḥa or Az-Zubeir. But in the end, pressed by the threats of the regicides and entreaties of his friends, he yielded; and so, six days after the fatal tragedy, ʿAlī took the oath to rule "according to the Book of the Lord," and was saluted Caliph. Az-Zubeir and Ṭalḥa were themselves the first to acknowledge him. They asserted afterwards that they swore unwillingly, through fear of the conspirators. The mass of the people followed. There were exceptions; but ʿAlī was lenient, and 234


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 painful associations; and Pope, alas! was an unconscious accomplice. To us of a later generation it is impossible to close this strange history without a singular mixture of feelings. Admiration for the extraordinary literary talents, respect for the energy which, under all disadvantages of health and position, turned these talents to the best account; love of the real tender-heartedness which formed the basis of the man's character; pity for the many sufferings to which his morbid sensitiveness exposed him; contempt for the meannesses into which he was hurried; ridicule for the insatiable vanity which prompted his most degrading subterfuges; horror for the bitter animosities which must have tortured the man who cherished them even more than his victims—are suggested simultaneously by the name of Pope. As we look at him in one or other aspect, each feeling may come uppermost in turn. The most abiding sentiment—when we think of him as a literary phenomenon—is admiration for the exquisite skill which enabled him to discharge a function, not of the highest kind, with a perfection rare in any department of literature. It is more difficult to say what will be the final element in our feeling about the man. Let us hope that it may be the pity which, after a certain lapse of years, we may be excused for conceding to the victim of moral as well as physical diseases.

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656] would not press the adherents of the late Caliph to swear allegiance. The insurgents, having themselves done homage, departed to tell the tale at Al-Kūfa, Al-Baṣra, and Fusṭāṭ.

No bed of roses was strewn for ʿAlī. Whether at home or abroad, work rough and anxious was before him. To the standing contention between the Bedawīn and Ḳoreish was now added the cry of vengeance on the regicides. Red-handed treason had loosened the bonds of society, and constituted authority was set at nought. Bands of Bedawīn, scenting plunder from afar, hung about the City. Encouraged by the servile population now broken loose, they refused to depart. ʿAlī was pressed to vindicate the majesty of law, and punish the men who had stained their hands with the blood of ʿOthmān. Even Ṭalḥa and Az-Zubeir, awakening too late to the portentous nature of the crime enacted, with little check from them, and before their very eyes, urged this. "My brothers," replied ʿAlī, "I am not indifferent to what ye say, but helpless. The wild Bedawīn and rampant slaves will have their way. What is this but an outburst of paganism long suppressed;—a return, for the moment, to the days of Ignorance, a work of Satan? Just now they are beyond our power. Wait; and the Lord will guide us." This waiting, hesitating mood was the bane of ʿAlī's life. He was over fifty years of age, and, though vigorous in his earlier years, had become corpulent and inactive now. He loved ease; and while sometimes obstinate and self-willed, his ordinary maxim was that things left to themselves would surely mend.

Ḳoreish were anxious and alarmed. The revolt, ostensibly against ʿOthmān's ungodly rule, was taking now far


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236 wider range. The Bedawīn were impatient of Ḳoreishite control; and that which had happened to the Umeiyad family, now forced to flee Medīna, might any moment happen to themselves, Yet ʿAlī, though he denounced the work of the regicides as high treason, took no steps to punish it, but temporised. Prompt and vigorous pursuit would no doubt have been joined in, heart and soul, by all the leaders and better classes of Islām. He chose rather to let the vessel drift, as it shortly did, into the vortex of rebellion.

The confirmation, or supersession, of the provincial governors was another pressing matter; and here ʿAlī, turning a deaf ear to his friends, proved wilful and precipitate. When Ibn al-ʿAbbās returned from the pilgrimage at Mecca, he found Al-Moghīra wisely urging ʿAlī to retain the governors generally in their posts, at least till the Empire at large had recognised his succession to the throne. But ʿAlī refused. Ibn al-ʿAbbās now pressed the same view: "At anyrate," he said, "retain Muʿāwiya; it was ʿOmar, not ʿOthmān, who placed him there; and all Syria followeth after him." The advice, coming from so near a kinsman, deserved consideration. But ʿAlī, with family hatred against the Umeiyad line, answered sharply, "Nay; I will not confirm him even for a single day." "If thou depose him," reasoned his friend, "the Syrians will question thine election :and, still worse, accusing thee of the blood of ʿOthmān, rise up as one man against thee. Confirm him in the government of Syria, and they care not who is Caliph. When thou art firmly seated, depose him if thou wilt. It will be easy then." "Never," answered ʿAlī; "he shall have nought but the sword from me." "Thou art brave," Ibn al-ʿAbbās replied, "but innocent of the craft of war; and hath not the Prophet himself said, What is war but a game of deception?" "That is true," responded ʿAlī, "but I will have none of Muʿāwiya." "Then," said Ibn al-ʿAbbās, "thou hadst better depart to thy property at Yenboʿ, and close the gates of thy stronghold there behind thee; for everywhere the Bedawīn are hounding along; and if thou makest others thine enemies, these will surely find thee out, and lay the blood of ʿOthmān at thy door." "Come," said ʿAlī, trying another line, "thou shalt go forth thyself to Syria. See, now, I have appointed thee." "That," replied Ibn al-ʿAbbās, "can


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 656] never be. Muʿāwiya would surely behead me or cast me into prison because of ʿOthmān's death, and my being kin to thee. Hearken, and make terms with him ere it be too late." But ʿAlī turned a deaf ear.

Acting on this wayward impulse, ʿAlī sent men of his own to replace existing governors throughout the Empire. In most places these met with but a sorry reception. At Al-Baṣra, indeed, Ibn ʿĀmir, unwilling to provoke hostilities, retired to Mecca, and his successor, ʿOthmān ibn Ḥoneif, entered unopposed; but the faction which clung to the memory of the late Caliph was as strong there as that which favoured ʿAlī, while a third party waited the out-turn of events at Medīna. In Egypt it was much the same. Ḳeis, appointed to the command, was a wise and able ruler; but he only succeeded in crossing the frontier by feigning attachment to the cause of ʿOthmān; while a strong and aggressive faction throughout the country, swore that they would not submit until the regicides were brought to justice. In the Yemen, the new Governor obtained possession, but only after his predecessor had carried off to Mecca all the treasure. The two officers nominated to Al-Kūfa and Syria met with so rough a reception, that they were glad to escape with their lives back to Medīna.

Dispirited by these events, ʿAlī took counsel with Ṭalḥa and Az-Zubeir. The sedition he had apprehended was already kindled, and would spread like wild-fire, catching whatever might come in its way. "Then," replied they, "let us depart, that we may do thee service in the field." "Wait," answered ʿAlī; "the cautery must be the last resort." So he resolved in the first instance to address letters to Muʿāwiya, and also to Abu Mūsa at Al-Kūfa, demanding their allegiance. Abu Mūsa replied in loyal terms, but withal, bade the Caliph beware of the disaffection which in Al-Kūfa was rife around him. With Syria, communication was utterly cut off; weeks elapsed, and there was no reply. In truth, a strange scene meanwhile was being enacted there.

Muʿāwiya had no sooner received the emblems of ʿOthmān's murder,—the gory shirt and Nāʾila's mangled joint up at fingers,—than he hung them on the pulpit of the Damascus mosque. There suspended, they remained a spectacle


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 238 maddening the Syrians to bloody revenge. Still, he took no immediate action. Biding his time, he waited to see what the new Caliph might do. Had ʿAlī been wise, he would have used the angry Syrians to take vengeance on the regicides, and in so doing crush as well the rising rebellion of the Arab tribes. In this work they would have been his strongest help; for Syria never suffered from the Bedawi turbulence which kept Al-ʿIrāḳ and Egypt in continual turmoil. It had been the early and favourite field of Ḳoreish, who, settling there more largely than elsewhere, found their influence, in consequence, all the better recognised. Moreover, they inhabited the Syrian cities in common with the Christian population, which had surrendered for the most part on favourable terms. Society was thus throughout all classes orderly and loyal; whereas Al-Baṣra and Al-Kūfa were filled with restless headstrong Arab tribes which held the conquered lands to be their own especial patrimony. Law prevailed in Syria; in Al-ʿIrāḳ and Egypt petulance and pride of arms. Syria was, moreover, attached to the Umeiyad stock, and so remained faithful to the end.

The Syrians had not long to wait the outcome of ʿAlī's plans. His abortive attempt to supersede Muʿāwiya, and refusal to arraign the regicides, gave colour to the charge of collusion with them; and having the bloody shirt ever before their,eyes, the Syrians soon raised the cry against the Caliph. The majesty of outraged law must now be vindicated; and if the assassins were not pursued to justice, who but ʿAlī was to blame? Damascus was in this excited temper when ʿAlī's letter reached Muʿāwiya. At the first no answer was vouchsafed. The envoy kept in waiting witnessed day by day the gathering storm. At last Muʿāwiya sent a despatch—stranger than ever had been seen before.. The cover was superscribed with this address; From Muʿāwiya to ʿAlī, and bore the seal of State. There was no other word, all was blank within. The despatch was carried by Ḳabīṣa, a Bedawi chief, and with him the Caliph's envoy was given permission to depart. Arriving at Medīna three months after ʿOthmān's death, Ḳabīṣa presented the letter to ʿAlī, who broke the seal impatiently. "What meaneth this?" he cried, starting at the blank despatch;—"let the enigma be explained."


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[from Genji Monogatari] by Murasaki Shikibu

It was at the time when he was secretly visiting the lady of the Sixth Ward. One day on his way back from the palace he thought that he would call upon his foster mother who, having for a long while been very ill, had become a nun. She lived in the Fifth Ward. After many inquiries he managed to find the house; but the front gate was locked and he could not drive in. He sent one of his servants for Koremitsu, his foster nurse’s son, and while he was waiting began to examine the rather wretched-looking by-street. The house next door was fenced with a new paling, above which at one place were four or five panels of open trelliswork, screened by blinds which were very white and bare. Through chinks in these blinds a


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Rh number of foreheads could be seen. They seemed to belong to a group of ladies who must be peeping with interest into the street below.

At first he thought they had merely peeped out as they passed; but he soon realized that if they were standing on the floor they must be giants. No, evidently they had taken the trouble to climb onto some table or bed; which was surely rather odd!

He had come in a plain coach with no outriders. No one could possibly guess who he was, and feeling quite at his ease he leant forward and deliberately examined the house. The gate, also made of a kind of trelliswork, stood ajar, and he could see enough of the interior to realize that it was a very humble and poorly furnished dwelling. For a moment he pitied those who lived in such a place, but then he remembered the song “Seek not in the wide world to find a home; but where you chance to rest, call that your house”; and again, “Monarchs may keep their palaces of jade, for in a leafy cottage two can sleep.”

There was a wattled fence over which some ivy-like creeper spread its cool green leaves, and among the leaves were white flowers with petals half-unfolded like the lips of people smiling at their own thoughts. “They are called Yūgao, ‘evening faces,’ ” one of his servants told him; “how strange to find so lovely a crowd clustering on this deserted wall!” And indeed it was a most strange and delightful thing to see how on the narrow tenement in a poor quarter of the town they had clambered over rickety eaves and gables and spread wherever there was room for them to grow. He sent one of his servants to pick some. The man entered at the half-opened door, and had begun to pluck the flowers, when a little girl in a long yellow tunic came through a quite genteel sliding door, and holding out toward Genji’s servant a white fan heavily perfumed with incense, she said to him, “Would you like something to put them on? I am afraid you have chosen a wretched-looking bunch,” and she handed him the fan. Just as he was opening the gate on his way back, the old nurse’s son Koremitsu came out of the other house full of apologies for having kept Genji waiting so long—“I could not find the key of the gate,” he said. “Fortunately the people of this


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108 humble quarter were not likely to recognize you and press or stare, but I am afraid you must have been very much bored waiting in this hugger-mugger back street,” and he conducted Genji into the house. Koremitsu’s brother, the deacon, his brother-in-law Mikawa no Kami and his sister all assembled to greet the Prince, delighted by a visit with which they had not thought he was ever likely to honour them again.

The nun too rose from her couch: “For a long time I had been waiting to give up the world, but one thing held me back: I wanted you to see your old nurse just once again as you used to know her. You never came to see me, and at last I gave up waiting and took my vows. Now, in reward for the penances which my Order enjoins, I have got back a little of my health, and having seen my dear young master again, I can wait with a quiet mind for the Lord Armda’s Light,” and in her weakness she shed a few tears.

“I heard some days ago,” said Genji, “that you were very dangerously ill, and was in great anxiety. It is sad now to find you in this penitential garb. You must live longer yet, and see me rise in the world, that you may be born again high in the ninth sphere of Amida’s Paradise. For they say that those who died with longings unfulfilled are burdened with an evil karma in their life to come.”

People such as old nurses regard even the most blackguardly and ill-favored foster children as prodigies of beauty and virtue. Small wonder then if Genji’s nurse, who had played so great a part in his early life, always regarded her office as immensely honorable and important, and tears of pride came into her eyes while he spoke to her.

The old lady’s children thought it very improper that their mother, having taken holy orders, should show so lively an interest in a human career. Certain that Genji himself would be very much shocked, they exchanged uneasy glances. He was on the contrary deeply touched. “When I was a child,” he said, “those who were dearest to me were early taken away, and although there were many who gave a hand to my upbringing, it was to you only, dear nurse, that I was deeply and tenderly attached. When I grew up I could not any longer be often in your company. I have not even been able


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 ning a rake handle or long light pole under them, and throwing its whole length of them over at once: they can be dug as soon as large enough for use, by scraping the dirt away from the side of the hill, the potatoes pulled off, and the vines left to form more. The whole crop should be dug as soon as the vines are blackened by the first frost, and spread out in a cool dry place, where there will be no danger of their freezing. On account of the vines taking so much room, the rows should be at least five feet apart. A dozen roots or more of this herb should be planted in some part of the garden where it will not be disturbed by the plow, or if this cannot be done readily, the roots can be taken up when the plowing is done, divided and reset, which would probably raise a larger and finer crop of leaves than allowing them to stand in the same place year after year. The crop should be cut off a few inches above the ground, as soon as it has made its growth and before it begins to bloom. The shoots will again start to grow, and two or three crops can be cut in a season; the cut tops can be tied in bunches and hung to the rafters. or spread thinly on the floor of a cool loft or garret. This is a quick-growing green, and very hardy, making it valuable for early spring and late fall growing. It cannot be raised during summer, on account of its running immediately to seed without


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 656] Ḳabīṣa first inquired whether his life was safe. "Safe," answered ʿAlī; "the person of an Ambassador is sacred. Speak on." "Know, then," proceeded Muʿāwiya's envoy, "that but now I left behind me, weeping under the blood-stained shirt of ʿOthmān, sixty thousand warriors, bent on revenging the Caliph's death,—and revenging it on thee!" "What!" exclaimed ʿAlī, aghast, "On me! Seest thou not that I am powerless to pursue the murderers? O Lord! I take Thee to witness that I am guiltless of ʿOthmān's blood. Begone! See, thy life is safe." As the envoy withdrew, the petulant slaves and rabble shouted after him, "Slay the dog; slay the envoy of Syrian dogs!" He turned, and, apostrophising Ḳoreish, cried at the pitch of his voice, "Children of Moḍar! Children of Ḳeis! The horse and the bow! Four thousand picked warriors close at hand. See to your camels and your steeds!"

Medīna was roused and startled by the envoy's cry. The time was come when ʿAlī could no longer put his decision off. Al-Ḥasan, his elder son, ever poor in spirit, counselled waiting; but ʿAlī saw too plainly the hour for action to be now or never. He gave vent to his troubled soul in martial lines, which, soon in everyone's mouth, told the people his resolve to make the sword the arbiter betwixt Muʿāwiya and himself. An expedition against Syria was proclaimed; captains were appointed to command the various companies of the expected levies, and banners were presented to them by ʿAlī; but he was careful to name no one who had taken part in the attack on ʿOthmān. Orders were also sent to Al-Kūfa, Al-Baṣra, and Egypt, to raise troops for the war. This done, ʿAlī mounted the pulpit and harangued the citizens. If they failed to fight now, he told them, the power would pass away from them, never more to be regained. "Fight, then, against the cursed schismatics, who would destroy the unity of Islām .and rend in twain the body of the Faithful. Haply the Lord will set that right which the Nations are setting wrong." But the people did not respond to the appeal, and the ranks were slow of filling.

Ṭalḥa and Az-Zubeir, when they saw affairs thus drifting, again asked leave to quit Medīna; and so they now set out for Mecca, on pretext of performing the lesser Pilgrimage.


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Rh to come here and see you as often as I wanted to. But in all the long time which has passed since I was last here, I have thought a great deal about you and wished that life did not force so many bitter partings upon us.”

So he spoke tenderly. The princely scent of the sleeve which he had raised to brush away his tears filled the low and narrow room, and even the young people, who had till now been irritated by their mother’s obvious pride at having been the nurse of so splendid a prince, found themselves in tears.

Having arranged for continual masses to be said on the sick woman’s behalf, he took his leave, ordering Koremitsu to light him with a candle. As they left the house he looked at the fan upon which the white flowers had been laid. He now saw that there was writing on it, a poem carelessly but elegantly scribbled: “The flower that puzzled you was but the yūgao, strange beyond knowing in its dress of shining dew.” It was written with a deliberate negligence which seemed to aim at concealing the writer’s status and identity. But for all that the hand showed a breeding and distinction which agreeably surprised him. “Who lives in the house on the left?” he asked. Koremitsu, who did not at all want to act as a go-between, replied that he had only been at his mother’s for five or six days and had been so much occupied by her illness that he had not asked any questions about the neighbors. “I want to know for a quite harmless reason,” said Genji. “There is something about this fan which raises a rather important point. I positively must settle it. You would oblige me by making inquiries from someone who knows the neighborhood.” Koremitsu went at once to the house next door and sent for the steward. “This house,” the man said, “belongs to a certain Titular Prefect. He is living in the country, but my lady is still here; and as she is young and loves company, her brothers who are in service at the court often come here to visit her.” “And that is about all one can expect a servant to know,” said Koremitsu when he repeated this information. It occurred at once to Genji that it was one of these courtiers who had written the poem. Yes, there was certainly a self-confident air in the writing. It was by someone whose rank entitled him to have a good opinion of himself. But he was


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 making many leaves. It can be sown as soon as the ground can be worked in the spring, and will be ready for use in a few weeks; about three sowings may be made, two weeks apart, or more, if the season is longer, though it will hardly be good if planted after the middle of May. The whole plant is cut off even with the ground, at any time before it starts to run to seed, the leaves and stems being used as boiled greens. Large sowings should be made in October, of the hardy variety, as it can be cut throughout the winter; a later sowing may be made the first of November, and lightly covered with litter when the ground has been frozen hard; this covering should be raked off early in the spring, and it will complete its growth before the first spring planting is ready for use.

—This variety produces large, thick, dark green leaves, somewhat crumpled. It possesses the valuable quality of standing for some time after attaining its growth, before running to seed.

—The leaves of this kind are wrinkled like a Savoy cabbage. It makes a large bunch of succulent leaves, producing more


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, before crossing arms with Muʿāwiya, heavy work was in store for ʿAlī.

Returning from Mecca, ʿĀisha was met on her way to Medīna by the tidings of ʿOthmān's death and ʿAlī's accession to the Caliphate. "Carry me back," cried the incensed and impetuous lady; "carry me back to Mecca. They have murdered the Caliph. I will avenge his blood."

In the early period of ʿOthmān's troubles, ʿĀisha, like others, had contributed her share towards fomenting public discontent. But she was no party to the cruel attack of the conspirators, and had, in fact, sought to detach her brother from them by inviting him to accompany her to Mecca. Vain and factious, she had never forgiven the unhandsome conduct of ʿAlī on the occasion when her virtue had been doubted by the Prophet; and now she would gladly have seen Az-Zubeir succeed instead. In place, therefore, of continuing her journey home, she turned and went straightway back again to Mecca. There the disaffected gathered round her, while from her veiled retreat she plotted the revenge of ʿOthmān's blood, and with shrill voice harangued her audience on the enormous crime that had desecrated the Prophet’s home and resting-place.

Thus when Az-Zubeir and Ṭalḥa reached Mecca, they found sedition already well advanced. The numerous adherents of the Umeiyad house, who had fled thither on the Caliph’s death, or still were resident at Mecca, and

240


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110 romantically disposed; it was too painful to dismiss altogether the idea that, after all, the verses might really have been meant for him, and on a folded paper he wrote: “Could I but get a closer view, no longer would they puzzle me—the flowers that all too dimly in the gathering dusk I saw.” This he wrote in a disguised hand and gave to his servant. The man reflected that though the senders of the fan had never seen Genji before, yet so well known were his features, that even the glimpse they had got from the window might easily have revealed to them his identity. He could imagine the excitement with which the fan had been dispatched and the disappointment when for so long a time no answer came. His somewhat rudely belated arrival would seem to them to have been purposely contrived. They would all be agog to know what was in the reply, and he felt very nervous as he approached the house.

Meanwhile, lighted only by a dim torch, Genji quietly left his nurse’s home. The blinds of the other house were now drawn and only the firefly glimmer of a candle shone through the gap between them.

When he reached his destination a very different scene met his eyes. A handsome park, a well-kept garden; how spacious and comfortable it all was! And soon the magnificent owner of these splendors had driven from his head all thought of the wooden paling, the shutters and the flowers.

He stayed longer than he intended, and the sun was already up when he set out for home. Again he passed the house with the shutters. He had driven through the quarter countless times without taking the slightest interest in it; but that one small episode of the fan had suddenly made his daily passage through these streets an event of great importance. He looked about him eagerly, and would have liked to know who lived in all the houses.

For several days Koremitsu did not present himself at Genji’s palace. When at last he came, he explained that his mother was growing much weaker and it was very difficult for him to get away. Then drawing nearer, he said in a low voice, ‘I made some further inquiries, but could not find out much. It seems that someone came


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 weight of leaves than any other variety, and is more hardy than any of the other kinds.

—This is one of the best varieties for spring sowing, as it stands longer than any other before running to seed. The leaves are thick, fleshy and crumpled like the Norfolk Savoy Leaved. Hills should be made for the culture of these, in the same manner and at the same time as described for cucumbers, cantaloupes, etc. These hills should be at some distance from the vines above mentioned, as there is danger of the pollen mixing and spoiling the melons, etc. There are some localities where the winter squashes do not do well or are difficult of cultivation; but the small summer squashes are of easy culture in any locality, though of finer quality on a warm sunny slope than elsewhere. The only trouble in growing them is to protect them from the ravages of the Striped Squash Bug while young, for which purpose I use slug shot, dusted on the leaves early in the morning, while the dow is still on them.

The vines should be allowed plenty of room to run, at least four feet on every side. The vines soon cover the ground and prevent using the cultivator; but the large leaves so shade the soil that few woods grow, and where they rear their heads above the vines they can be cut out with hand hoes or pulled out after a rain, by hand.

As we can hardly use the product of more than a


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Rh very secretly in June and has been living there ever since; but who she really is not even her own servants know. I have once or twice peeped through a hole in the hedge and caught a glimpse of some young women; but their skirts were rolled back and tucked in at their belts, so I think they must have been waiting maids. Yesterday some while after sunset I saw a lady writing a letter. Her face was calm, but she looked very unhappy, and I noticed that some of her women were secretly weeping.” Genji was more curious than ever.

Though his master was of a rank which brought with it great responsibilities, Koremitsu knew that in view of his youth and popularity the young prince would be thought to be positively neglecting his duty if he did not indulge in a few escapades, and that everyone would regard his conduct as perfectly natural and proper even when it was such as they would not have dreamed of permitting to ordinary people.

“Hoping to get a little further information,” he said, “I found an excuse for communicating with her, and received in reply a very well-worded answer in a cultivated hand. She must be a girl of quite good position.” “You must find out more,” said Genji; “I shall not be happy till I know all about her.”

Here perhaps was just such a case as they had imagined on that rainy night: a lady whose outward circumstances seemed to place her in that “lowest class” which they had agreed to dismiss as of no interest; but who in her own person showed qualities by no means despicable. …

It was autumn. Genji had brought so many complications into his life that he had for some while been very irregular in his visits to the Great Hall, and was in great disgrace there. The lady in the grand mansion was very difficult to get on with; but he had surmounted so many obstacles in his courtship of her that to give her up the moment he had won her seemed absurd. Yet he could not deny that the blind intoxicating passion which possessed him while she was still unattainable, had almost disappeared. To begin with, she was far too


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112 sensitive; then there was the disparity of their ages, and the constant dread of discovery which haunted him during those painful partings at small hours of the morning. In fact, there were too many disadvantages.

It was a morning when mist lay heavy over the garden. After being many times roused Genji at last came out of Rokujō’s room, looking very cross and sleepy. One of the maids lifted part of the folding-shutter, seeming to invite her mistress to watch the Prince’s departure. Rokujō pulled aside the bed-curtains and tossing her hair back over her shoulders looked out into the garden. So many lovely flowers were growing in the borders that Genji halted for a while to enjoy them. How beautiful he looked standing there, she thought. As he was nearing the portico the maid who had opened the shutters came and walked by his side. She wore a light green skirt exquisitely matched to the season and place; it was so hung as to show to great advantage the grace and suppleness of her stride. Genji looked round at her. “Let us sit down for a minute on the railing here in the corner,” he said. “She seems very shy,” he thought, “but how charmingly her hair falls about her shoulders,” and he recited the poem: “Though I would not be thought to wander heedlessly from flower to flower, yet this morning’s pale convolvulus I fain would pluck!” As he said the lines he took her hand and she answered with practiced ease: “You hasten, I observe, to admire the morning flowers while the mist still lies about them,” thus parrying the compliment by a verse which might be understood either in a personal or general sense. At this moment a very elegant page wearing the most bewitching baggy trousers came among the flowers brushing the dew as he walked, and began to pick a bunch of the convolvuli. Genji longed to paint the scene.

No one could see him without pleasure. He was like the flowering tree under whose shade even the rude mountain peasant delights to rest. And so great was the fascination he exercised that those who knew him longed to offer him whatever was dearest to them. One who had a favorite daughter would ask for nothing better than to make her Genji’s handmaiden. Another who had an exquisite sister


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522 give up life too; but it was with the utmost labor we forced our way from the window (several in the inner ranks appearing to me dead standing, unable to fall by the throng and equal pressure around). He laid himself down to die; and his death, I believe, was very sudden; for he was a short, full, sanguine man. His strength was great; and, I imagine, had he not retired with me, I should never have been able to force my way. I was at this time sensible of no pain, and little uneasiness; I can give you no better idea of my situation than by repeating my simile of the bowl of spirit of hartshorn. I found a stupor coming on apace, and laid myself down by that gallant old man, the Rev. Mr. Jervas Bellamy, who laid dead with his son, the lieutenant, hand in hand, near the southernmost wall of the prison. When I had lain there some little time, I still had reflection enough to suffer some uneasiness in the thought that I should be trampled upon, when dead, as I myself had done to others. With some difficulty I raised myself, and gained the platform a second time, where I presently lost all sensation; the last trace of sensibility that I have been able to recollect after my laying down, was my sash being uneasy about my waist, which I untied, and threw from me. Of what passed in this interval, to the time of my resurrection from this hole of borrows, I can give you no account."

There was plenty to see in Calcutta, but there was not plenty of time for it. I saw the fort that Clive built; and the place where Warren Hastings and the author of the Junius Letters fought their duel; and the great botanical gardens; and the fashionable afternoon turnout in the Maidan; and a grand review of the garrison in a great plain at sunrise; and a military tournament in which great bodies of native soldiery exhibited the perfection of their drill at all arms, a spectacular and beautiful show occupying several nights and closing with the mimic storming of a native fort which was as good as the reality for thrilling and accurate detail, and better than the reality for security and comfort; we had a pleasure excursion on the Hoogly by courtesy of friends, and devoted the rest of the time to social life and the Indian museum. One should spend a month in the museum, an enchanted palace of Indian antiquities. Indeed, a person might spend half a year among the beautiful and wonderful things without exhausting their interest.

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548 We struck out westward or northwestward from Calcutta on an itinerary of a zig-zag sort, which would in the course of time carry us across India to its northwestern corner and the border of Afghanistan. The first part of the trip carried us through a great region which was an endless garden—miles and miles of the beautiful flower from whose juices comes the opium, and at Muzaffurpore we were in the midst of the indigo culture; thence by a branch road to the Ganges at a point near Dinapore, and by a train which would have missed the connection by a week but for the thoughtfulness of some British officers who were along, and who knew the ways of trains that are run by natives without white supervision. This train stopped at every village; for no purpose connected with business, apparently. We put out nothing, we took nothing aboard. The train hands stepped ashore and gossiped with friends a quarter of an hour, then pulled out and repeated this at the succeeding villages. We had thirty-five miles to go and six hours to do it in, but it was plain that we were not going to make it. It was then that the English officers said it was now necessary to turn this gravel train into an express. So they gave the engine-driver a rupee and told him to fly. It was a simple remedy. After that we made ninety miles an hour. We crossed the Ganges just at dawn, made our connection, and went to Benares, where we stayed twenty-four hours and inspected that strange and fascinating piety-hive again; then left for Lucknow, a city which is perhaps the most conspicuous of the many monuments of British fortitude and valor that are scattered about the earth.

The heat was pitiless, the flat plains were destitute of grass, and baked dry by the sun they were the color of pale dust, which was flying in clouds. But it was much hotter than this when the relieving forces marched to Lucknow in the time of the Mutiny. Those were the days of 138° in the shade.


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 656] the factious and servile mass at large, listened eagerly to their tale. "They had left the men of Medīna," said Ṭalḥa and Az-Zubeir, "plunged in perplexity. Right had been confounded so with wrong that people knew not which way to turn. It was for Mecca now to lead, and punish traitors who had slain their Caliph." The standard of rebellion thus raised, many flocked around it. Al-Baṣra was to be the first object of attack, a city favouring the claims of Ṭalḥa; while Ibn ʿĀmir, the late governor and friend of ʿOthmān, had still an influential following there. The treasure he had brought away, as well as that carried off by Al-ʿAlā from the Yemen, was now expended in equipping the force and providing it with carriage. ʿĀisha, spurning the restraints of sex, prepared to join the campaign and stir up the men of Al-Baṣra, as she had stirred up those of Mecca. Ḥafṣa was with difficulty restrained by her brother ʿAbdallah son of ʿOmar (who had just fled from Medina, and held aloof from either side) from following her sister- widow. At length, some four months after ʿOthmān's death, the rebel army set out 3000 strong, of whom 1000 were men of Mecca and Medīna, ʿĀisha travelled in her litter on a camel, destined to give its name to the first engagement in the civil war. The other widows of Moḥammad residing at Mecca accompanied her a little way, and then returned. As they parted, the company gave vent to their feelings and wept bitterly at the louring outlook;—"there was no such weeping, before or after, as then; so that day was called The Day of Tears."

Questions began to arise whether Ṭalḥa or Az-Zubeir would in event of victory be the Caliph; but ʿĀisha, staying the strife, as premature, desired that ʿAbdallah son of Az-Zubeir should lead the prayers; and it was given out that the choice of the future Caliph would be left, as heretofore, to the men of Medīna. Saʿīd, ex-governor of Al-Kūfa, distrusting the motives of the leaders, turned aside at the last moment, and with his company went back to Mecca. As the remaining cavalcade swept by him, shouting that they were on their way to destroy the murderers of ʿOthmān, Saʿīd cried out, "Whither away? the objects of your vengeance (meaning Ṭalḥa and Az-Zubeir) are on their camels' humps before your eyes. Slay them both, and


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574 This marvel of marble—5.

The exquisite enclosure—5.

Inlaid with flowers made of costly gems—5.

A thing of perfect beauty and absolute finish—5.

Those details are correct; the figures which I have placed after them represent quite fairly their individual values. Then why, as a whole, do they convey a false impression to the reader I It is because the reader—beguiled by his heated imagination—masses them in the wrong way. The writer would mass the first three figures in the following way, and they would speak the truth:

But the reader masses them thus—and then they tell a lie—559.

The writer would add all of his twelve numerals together, and then the sum would express the whole truth about the Taj, and the truth only—63.

But the reader—always helped by his imagination—would put the figures in a row one after the other, and get this sum, which would tell him a noble big lie:

You must put in the commas yourself; I have to go on with my work.

The reader will always be sure to put the figures together in that wrong way, and then as surely before him will stand, sparkling in the sun, a gem-crusted Taj tall as the Matterhorn.

I had to visit Niagara fifteen times before I succeeded in getting my imaginary Falls gauged to the actuality and could begin to sanely and wholesomely wonder at them for what they were, not what I had expected them to be. When I first ap-


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600 and reproaches it. In the following letter "father" is not to be read literally. In Ceylon a little native beggar-girl embarrassed me by calling me father, although I knew she was mistaken. I was so new that I did not know that she was merely following the custom of the dependent and the supplicant.

",

"I pray please to give me some action (work) for I am very poor boy I have no one to help me even so father for it so it seemed in thy good sight, you give the Telegraph Office, and another work what is your wish I am very poor boy, this understand what is your wish you my father I am your son this understand what is your wish. "Your Sirvent, P. C. B."

Through ages of debasing oppression suffered by these people at the hands of their native rulers, they come legitimately by the attitude and language of fawning and flattery, and one must remember this in mitigation when passing judgment upon the native character. It is common in these letters to find the petitioner furtively trying to get at the white man's soft religious side; even this poor boy baits his hook with a macerated Bible-text in the hope that it may catch something if all else fail.

Here is an application for the post of instructor in English to some children:

As a sample of the flowery Eastern style, I will take a sentence or two from a long letter written by a young native to the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal—an application for employment:

,

"I hope your honor will condescend to hear the tale of this poor creature. I shall overflow with gratitude at this mark of your royal condescension. The bird-like happiness has flown away from my nest-like heart and has not hitherto returned from the period whence the rose of my father’s life suffered the autumnal breath of death, in plain English he passed through the gates of Grave, and from that hour the phantom of delight has never danced before me."


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Page:Anthology of Japanese Literature.pdf/117

Rh was ready for her to serve in his household, though it were at the most menial tasks. Still less could these ladies who on such occasions as this were privileged to converse with him and stare at him as much as they pleased, and were moreover young people of much sensibility—how could they fail to delight in his company and note with much uneasiness that his visits were becoming far less frequent than before?

But where have I got to? Ah, yes. Koremitsu had patiently continued the inquiry with which Genji entrusted him. “Who the mistress is,” he said, “I have not been able to discover; and for the most part she is at great pains not to show herself. But more than once in the general confusion, when there was the sound of a carriage coming along past that great row of tenement houses, and all the maidservants were peering out into the road, the young lady whom I suppose to be the mistress of the house slipped out along with them. I could not see her clearly, but she seemed to be very pretty.

“One day, seeing a carriage with outriders coming toward the house, one of the maids rushed off calling out ‘Ukon, Ukon, come quickly and look. The Captain’s carriage is coming this way.’ At once a pleasant-faced lady no longer young, came bustling out. ‘Quietly, quietly,’ she said holding up a warning finger; ‘how do you know it is the Captain? I shall have to go and look,’ and she slipped out. A sort of rough drawbridge leads from the garden into the lane. In her excitement the good lady caught her skirt in it and falling flat on her face almost tumbled into the ditch: ‘A bad piece of work His Holiness of Katsuragi made here!’ she grumbled; but her curiosity did not seem to be at all damped and she stared harder than ever at the approaching carriage. The visitor was dressed in a plain, wide cloak. He had attendants with him, whose names the excited servant girls called out as one after another they came near enough to be recognized; and the odd thing is that the names were certainly those of Tō no Chūjō’s grooms and pages.”

“I must see that carriage for myself,” said Genji. What if this