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“Sure—like—a—Bible.” “How?” “Why pick on me for a hard one like that?”
 * Do you think he found out about Teddy?”

“Perhaps she told him,” suggested one of the other irls. z “She wouldn’t be such a boob; no girl would,” offered a languid girlish voice. “Tt’d be the square thing to do.” This was a masculine opinion, and jejune, even for that crowd.

‘Don’t know—yah!” declared Miss Thorne, meaning to express her contempt for this view. “It was up to Dupuy to look in the mare’s mouth before he bought.” The discussion played about the subject with daring sallies and prurient relish, the final conclusion of the

majority being that the fiancé had “got wise” and the girl had killed herself because he broke the engagement, “as

any fellow would” (Monty Standish’s contribution, this last). “What if she did go to him and own up?” suggested Selden Thorpe. “It'd be just the same,” opined Standish. “He'd have to quit.” “Oh, I don’t know.

It doesn’t follow.”

“I don’t know that I would. It depends.” “You'd be a pretty poor sort of fish if you wouidn’t.”
 * “Wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe, if I thought as you do. But we don’t all think the same.” “Some of us don’t think at all,” put in Pat acidly. “We just talk.” “Meaning which, Treechy ?”’ inquired Torrance,

“Oh, nothing!”

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“JT know John Dupuy,” proceeded Thorpe. “He isn” just exactly the one to draw lines too strictly.” “T grant you that Johnnie would never win the diamondset chastity belt of the world’s championship,” said the daring Miss Thorne, and elicited a chorus of appreciative mirth. Pat did not join init. She was thinking fast and hard. After the rest had gone Monty stayed on, as of right. Something in Pat’s expression struck even his torpid perceptions, as he put his arm around her and drew her to him for the customary “petting party.” “What's all the gloom about, sweetie?” She released herself not over-gently. “Monty, woulc you have done what Dupuy did?” “Flow do you mean?” “Broken off your engagement—on that account?” “Why, yes. Any fellow would.” A convincing reason for him. “Selden Thorpe wouldn’t.” “T’ll bet he would. He’s a bluff. He makes me sick.” ““Well—then—yyou’d better break ours.” “TI don’t get you, Pat.” “Tt’s been the same with me as with Elsie Dowden I’ve been meaning to tell you.” “JT don’t believe it,” he said violently. “It’s a try-on. A trick.” ie “It’s true. You've got to believe it.” ““Who’s the man?” bayed Monty like a huge dog. “T’ll never tell you.” He gathered his powerful frame together as if to spring upon her.

If he did, if he beat her to the ground, choked

her into helplessness, Pat thought, she would hate him and love him for it. But his rage ebbed, impotent of itu culmination, a little pitiful, a little ridiculous.

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“Wh-wh-what did you do it for?” It was almosta whimper.

“I don't know.

I didn’t mean to—at the beginning.”

“Did you love him?”

“Yes. I thought I did.” “You love him now,” he charged, his fury mounting “I don't!

I love you.”

“This is a hell of a thing to tell a man you say you love.” he faltered plaintively. “You'd rather I hadn*t teld you. way! I had to tell.”

Instantly he was suspicious. have to?”

Im not built that

“Had to?

Why did you

“Not for any reason that you'd understand.” The slight emphasis on the “you™ was the first teuch of bitter ness she had allowed herself. “Wouldn’t he marry you?” “JI wouldn’t marry him.” Menty perceptibly brightened. Pat’s womanly intuiWiens, supersensitised by the strain of the contest, told her why. If, to his male standards, she was a maiden despoiled, she was at least not a woman scorned; her

rating had gone up sensibly. “Where is he now?”

“J don’t know.

I haven't seen him for a long time.

Pll never see him again.~ “Pat,” with an air of resolute magnanimity—“Gf you'll

tell me whe it was I'll marry you anyway.”

At that her pale cheeks flamed. “Pm not begging you to marry me, Monty. I'm not that cheap in the market.” “You want our engagement broken?” “That’s up to you. Absolutely. If you think, now

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 FLAMING YOUTH T’ve told you, that you’re so I am because I’ve done what “What d’you mean, better “I suppose you’ve never

gir

2

31h

much better and purer than I did eo and purer?” had any affair with any

“Are you trying to pretend to believe that’s the same thing?”? His voice was incredulous, contemptuous. “Why isn’t it the same thing?” Young Mr. Standish suffered a paralysis of scandalised amazement. “Because it isn’t! For God’s sake! You talk like one of those radical freaks that spout on soapboxes.” “I’m not so sere they aren’t right about this man-andwoman thing,” declared Pat recklessly. In so speaking she felt that she had broken with conventionalities far more than in anything, however bold, previously enunciated in their talk. Monty’s square jaw became ugly. “I’m giving you your chance. You won’t tell me the man’s name?” Pat preserved the silence of obstinacy. It was more convincing than any negative. Also more exasperating. “Good-night!” bellowed her lover, and strode from the room. ' Almost immediately he was back, endued with a sad and noble expression. “Nobody shall ever know about this from me, Pat.

You’re safe.”

,

For three nights Pat washed her troubled soul with fears. Her family knew that there had been a lovers’ quarrel ;that was all.

Pat waited for Monty to break the

engagement formally or send her word that he wished her

to break it. Through all her grief of bereavement which, she repeatedly told herself, was the most sorrowful depth that her life had yet touched, that any life could touch,

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‘she impatiently awaited the definite solution. the strain of uncertainty;

Relief from

that was what she craved.

On the fourth evening Monty reappeared. All his nobleness was gone. He was haggard, nerve-racked, forlorn. He threw himself upon her compassion. He implored her. He would forgive everything; he would forget everything; he would make no conditions, if only she would take him back. Life without her—— “All right, Monty-boy,” said Pat, really affected by his suffering. “I haven’t changed. I love you, Monty. But if ever you let what Ive told you make any difference, if ever you speak of it or let me know that you even think of it, ’m through. That minute and forever.” Humbly, abjectly, the upholder of man’s superior privilege accepted the absurd condition. The stronger nature had completely dominated the weaker. Back in his arms again, Pat savoured the delicious warmth of a passion the more ardent for the threat of frustration; the triumph of a crisis valorously met and successfully passed. But an encroaching thought tainted the rapture of the moment. What was it that he himself had so confidently said to Selden Thorpe? Was her splendid and beautiful young lover, holding the views which he had proclaimed and surrendering them so readily,

indeed “a poor sort of fish”?

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 CHAPTER

XXXIV

Acatn Pat was happy in her engagement.

She fre,

quently and insistently assured herself that she was. Certainly she had no just complaint of Monty. He was all

that a lover should be when they were together; he kept to his pact and never in any manner referred to Pat’s confession. But when he was away she sometimes wished that he wouldn’t write so often, or, at least, expect her

to answer so regularly. His letters added nothing to his charm. They innocently bristled with I’s; but it was the monotony rather than the egotism of his style that annoyed her. Her answers, at first ardent, vivid and flashing like herself, soon became mere chronicles of petty events, interspersed with protestations of love. They were temporarily genuine enough, these latter, since each time he was with her she was re-warmed in the glow of their mutual passion. But she could not stifle all misgivings. Incompetent though she was to analyse comprehensively her changeful emotions, she nevertheless had disturbing gleams of selfknowledge which added nothing to her confidence in a future whereof Monty Standish was to be a large part. Pat dimly recognised herself for that difficult and composite type of girlhood which, though imperatively sexed, will never fulfill itself through physical attraction and physical satisfactions alone. For such as she there must be the double response; if the mating be not both mentally and physically sufficient, ultimate disaster is inevitable, Brooding upon these self-suspicions she would fall inte moods of silence and withdrawal puzzling to the matter-

317

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of-fact lover who would sometimes grow quite petulant over her perfunctory responses to his good-humoured ineffectualities of companionship. Once when he rallied her upon this she burst into angry tears and snapped out: “I’m so dam’ worn with pififle and prattle,” and darted upstairs. But at their next meeting she was so prettily contrite and yielding that his vanity was quite soothed. As the wedding day drew near, Pat dismissed whatever doubts she may have had, in the excitement of fitting-out. It was on one of these shopping expeditions, when she had gone into town by train, her runabout having suffered an attack of nervous breakdown, that, crossing the station plaza she came face to face with an old but unforgotten acquaintance. She saw his keen pleasant face light up, could read in his half-dismayed expression the struggle to remember exactly who she was, and went to him, holding out her hand: He
 * You’ve forgotten me, Mr. Warren Graves.”

took

the hand.

“Indeed,

I haven’t!

It’s Pat.

Little Pat.” She nodded. “Better than I gave you credit for.” “Ym awfully sorry, but I have forgotten the rest

of it.” “Pat?ll do,” she laughed. “No; but let me think back.” “Want any help?” “It was a party, somewhere about here. A corking party. Id had one drink that I remember and some more that I don’t. A funny, delightful kiddie was floating around outside like Cinderella. She wouldn’t go in and dance with me, but—let me think

me

“TI wouldn’t think too far,” urged Pat, her face tinged with pink.

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319

“Ah, but I’ve got the name now!” he cried, triumphant and tactful at once.

“Fentriss.

Miss Patricia Fentriss,

alias Pat, alias the Infant, alias the Demon. 4 “What a relieving memory you’ve got!” ‘who stood at the bend of the stairs and said goodnight so sweetly that I never quite got over it. But, J say; you have grown up.” He looked at her piquant, provocative, welcoming face and continued, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes: “Now that I’m recovering from the shock I seem to recall an older sister protruding from a door most inopportunely.” “Aren’t you afraid you’ll miss your train, Mr. Graves?” “I’m not going to the train.” “You’re carrying that satchel for exercise?” “I’m wishing it onto the parcels stand while I take a delightful young lady to luncheon.” “Surely you must be keeping her waiting.” “I’m daring to hope she'll come with me while I pry myself from this baggage. Will you, Pat?” “Oh; you’re asking me to lunch with you?” “Such is my dark and deadly purpose.” “T ought not to. But I want to.” He laughed delightedly. “You haven’t changed a bit inside and most marvellously outside. Then you'll come?” “You’d make a fortune as a mind-reader. There’s a condition though.” “Name

it; it’s agreed to.”

“That you'll forget all about that foolishness of ours at the party. I was only fourteen.” It was his turn to flush. “You make me ashamed of myself,” he said with such charming sincerity that Pat let fall a friendly and forgiving hand upon his arm for a second. “But let me tell you this. When I left your

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house that night I was more than a little in love with you. Oh, calf-love, doubtless. better, doesn’t it?”

But—it makes it a little

“Yes,” answered Pat gravely. “It makes it a lot better —for both of us.” “Then we'll forget all of it that you’d wish forgotten,” said he. In her italicised moments Pat would have described the luncheon that followed as “too enticing.” But Pat did not feel stressful in the company of Warren Graves; she felt quiet and attentive, and wonderfully receptive to the breath of the greater world which he brought to her. He had been in the diplomatic service since the war, in several European capitals, had read and thought and mingled with men who were making or marring not the politics alone, but the very geography of the malleable earth. After a little light talk, in which Pat was conscious that he was trying her out, the rapprochement of their minds was established and he settled down to talk with her as if she had been a woman of the international world in which he moved. Her swift, apprehensive intelligence kept him up to his best form, As the coffee was finished he said reproachfully: “You’ve made me chatter my head off. And I’m supposed to have rather a gift for silence. How do you work your spells?” “By being sunk in admiring interest,” she answered, smiling up at him as she put on her gloves. “You’ve given me the most delightful hour I’ve had for years.” “But it needn’t end here, need it?” he protested anxiously. “Don’t you want to go to a matinée, or something?” “There aren’t any. It’s Friday.” “So it is. But there are always the movies.”

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 Division 4—Staff members of Commonwealth agencies

12 Meaning of staff member—Commonwealth agencies

(1) The following are staff members of a Commonwealth agency:

 * (a) in the case of a parliamentary office:

 * (i) an individual who is employed by the parliamentarian under Part III or IV of the Members of Parliament (Staff) Act 1984; and
 * (ii) an individual who is engaged by the parliamentarian as a consultant under Part II of that Act;

 * (b) in the case of an agency other than a parliamentary office— the head of the agency;

 * (c) if the agency is a Commonwealth entity—an official (within the meaning of the PGPA Act) of the entity;

 * (d) in any case—an individual who is employed by, or engaged in assisting:

 * (i) the agency; or

 * (ii) a staff member of the agency on behalf of the agency or the Commonwealth;

 * (e) a director or officer of the following:

 * (i) a Commonwealth company;
 * (ii) a subsidiary of a corporate Commonwealth entity or a Commonwealth company;

 * (f) if the agency is responsible for administering a Commonwealth contract—an individual who is either of the following:

 * (i) a contracted service provider for the contract;

 * (ii) both an officer or employee of a contracted service provider for the contract and someone who provides goods or services for the purposes (whether direct or indirect) of the contract;

 * (g) in any case—a secondee to the agency.

(2) However, if a Commonwealth agency is covered by an item of the following table then the staff members of the agency are the


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 :(e) the Inspector-General of Live Animal Exports;
 * (f) the Inspector-General of Water Compliance.

(3) Despite subsection (1), the NACC is not a Commonwealth agency.


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321

Pat knew that she ought not to go; there were a dozen important errands to be done. But: “Oh, very well,” she said. Duties could wait. Pleasure was something you had to grab before it got away from you. The philosophy of the flapper. At the “motion picture palace” they got box seats, the chairs suggestively close together. She wondered whether he would try to hold her hand; also whether she would let him if he did. Probably she would; there was no harm in that, and it gave a pleasant sense of companionship. Most of the boys with whom she went to the theatre or movies expected it. Apparently Warren Graves didn’t. He made no move in that direction. Piqued a little, nevertheless Pat liked him the better for

it. Monty might perhaps have objected if he knew. And, with a start, she discovered that only just then had she thought of Monty Standish. He had been, for the time, quite forgotten in the interest of a more enlivening and demanding association. What the “serial” of the play was, Pat could hardly have told; “some hurrah about the West,” she informed

T. Jameson James afterward. At the conclusion of it there came a “news feature,” showing scenes about the

building where the League of Nations session was being held.

Various noted personages

appeared, walked with

the knee-slung, unnatural stalk of the screen across the space, and vanished. Then it was as if a blinding flash had been projected from the square. An unforgettable figure stood out amidst the crowd, the face turned toward her, the eyes, with the faint ironic lift of the brows, look-

ing down into her soul, arousing a tumult and a throbbing which left her hardly breath enough to gasp out: “Cary Scott!” Do you know Scott?” asked her escort interestedly.

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164 leaving some promises made in the early portion unfulfilled.

De Bergerac, in his 'Voyage to the Moon' and 'History of the Empire of the Sun,' Swift, in his 'Gulliver's Travels,' Quevedo, in his 'Visions,' and Rabelais, in his 'History of Gargantua and Pantagruel,' are all said to have borrowed from this imaginary voyage of Lucian's. But they can have taken from him little more than crude hints, and Swift at least owes a much larger debt to De Bergerac than to Lucian.

, or, is another short essay in fiction, complete in itself, and approximating more closely to our modern idea of a story. It relates the transformation of the hero into an ass, through the accidental operation of the charm of a sorceress, and his restoration, after a variety of adventures in his quadruped form, into his own proper shape by feeding on some roses. It is not certain whether the story is original, or merely an abridgment in our author's own style from a tale by one Lucius of Patræ. The "Golden Ass" of Apuleius (written probably at about the same date) seems to be founded either on this piece of Lucian's or on the common original, but Apuleius extends the tale to greater length. The experiences of Lucius in the person of the ass, while retaining all his human faculties, are fairly amusing, but not tempting either for extract or abridgment. The piece is chiefly interesting as one of the few surviving specimens of an ancient novelette.

Shorter, but much more amusing, is the pleasant


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Rh little sketch, cast in Lucian's favourite form of a Dialogue—""

The Cobbler is our old friend Micyllus, who is awakened one morning much earlier than he likes by the crowing of his cock, whom he declares he would kill if it were not too dark to catch him. The Cock remonstrates: he is only doing his duty; and if his master will not get up and make a shoe before breakfast, he is very likely to go without. Micyllus is very much startled at the prodigy of a cock's finding a human voice; upon which the bird remarks that if Achilles's horse Xanthus could make a long speech, and in verse too, and the half-roasted oxen in the Odyssey could low even on the spit—and there is Homer's excellent authority for both — surely he may say a few words in humble prose. Besides, if his master wants to know, he has not always been a bird—he was a man, once upon a time: Micyllus has surely heard of the great philosopher Pythagoras, and his transformations? Yes, Micyllus has heard all about it—and a great imposter he was. "Pray, don't use violent language," replies the Cock; "I am Pythagoras—or rather, I was." He proceeds to explain how many and various transmigrations he has already gone through; he has been a king, a beggar,


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“Yes, He used to visit in Dorrisdale. Do you?” “Quite well. Everyone on the inside in Europe knows © him; he’s one of the men who are doing big things under ~ the surface at the conference.” “Tell me,” urged Pat as they left the place. He sketched Scott’s career as confidential adviser to several of the most important of the protagonists in that Titans’ struggle. ‘“He’s a sort of liaison officer, knowing France and this country as he does. He’s had a rather rough time of it, lately, poor chap.” “Ts he ill?”

Pat had a struggle to control her voice.

“No. A domestic smash. His wife—that was—is a demonish sort of female. However, he’s got well rid of her now. To be accurate, he let her get rid of him. Over-decent of him, all things considered.” “Perhaps she had cause, too.” Pat hated herself as she said it. But she craved to know. ‘Nothing of that kind,” was the positive reply. “Scott has been living like an anchorite. They say he was hard hit here in America, As to that, I don’t know. Certainly he has been devoting himself to his work with no room for any other devotion. Which is more than can be said of his ex-wife.” “TI never met her,” Pat heard her voice saying, and quite admired it for its tone of casual interest. ‘She didn’t come to Dorrisdale.” “Speaking of Dorrisdale. I’m at Washington for a tvhile. Mayn’t I run up to see you?” “No. I’m afraid not.” “That’s a little—disappointing.” “You see, I’m going to be terribly busy until my wedding.”

“Wedding?

Oh!

All my felicitations.

I didn’t know.”

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323

“Yes. I’m to be married to Monty Standish next month.” Even as her lips spoke the words her soul denied them. In the dominant depths of her, she knew that she could never marry Monty Standish now. Her thoughts, so lightly detached from her fiancé by the easy charm of Warren

Graves, had been claimed, coerced, irrevocably

absorbed by the swift-passing phantom presentment of her former lover. The bond created when she had given herself to him was as nothing compared to this imperative summons across the spaces. After a night of passionate struggle, succeeded by resolute thinking, she wired Monty to come on. When he came, she broke the engagement. It was ruthless, cruel, unfair. Pat had no excuses, no extenuations to offer.

She simply stood firm. Monty returned to college, failed of his graduation, and let it be known among his indignant friends and relatives that Pat had ruined his career. Hot and righteous though his wrath was, he never so much as hinted at Pat’s secret.

Stupid, unstable, self-

satisfied, spoiled; the plaster idol of an athlete-worshipping age; but nevertheless a gentleman within whom one flame of honour burned clear and constant behind its dull encasement.

Pat’s family variously raged, begged, and protested. Pat let them. They prophesied social ostracism for her. She shrugged away the suggestion as improbable in the first place and not worth worrying about anyway. But she would have gone away had it not been for her selfassumed responsibility to her broken brother-in-law. And it was from him that her main support came. From the first he stood by her unquestioning. “You're awfully good to me, Jimmie-jams,” she said one day as she was wheeling him in the garden, having dis-

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Division 1—The Commissioner

16 The Commissioner

There is to be a National Anti-Corruption Commissioner.

17 Functions of the Commissioner

The Commissioner has the following functions:

 * (a) to detect corrupt conduct;

 * (b) to conduct preliminary investigations into corruption issues or possible corruption issues;

 * (c) to conduct corruption investigations into corruption issues that could involve corrupt conduct that is serious or systemic;

 * (d) to report on corruption investigations and public inquiries;

 * (e) to refer corruption issues to Commonwealth agencies and State or Territory government entities;

 * (f) to oversee investigations into corruption issues conducted by Commonwealth agencies;

 * (g) to conduct public inquiries into:

 * (i) the risk of corrupt conduct occurring; and

 * (ii) measures directed at dealing with that risk and preventing that conduct;

 * (h) to provide education and information in relation to corrupt conduct and preventing that conduct;

 * (i) to collect, correlate, analyse and disseminate general information and intelligence about corrupt conduct;

 * (j) to report, and make recommendations, to the Minister concerning the need for, or desirability of, legislative or administrative reform in relation to any matters dealt with by this Act;


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 :(k) to provide relevant information and documents to the Committee;

 * (l) to receive public interest disclosures (within the meaning of the Public Interest Disclosure Act 2013) and to deal with those disclosures;

 * (m) any other functions conferred on the Commissioner by this Act or another Act;

 * (n) to do anything incidental or conducive to the performance of any of the above functions.


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166 a woman, a horse, and a jackdaw; and never more miserable than in the character of a king. Micyllus expresses great surprise at this statement: for his own part, riches are the one thing he has always longed for; and the reason for his having been so angry now at being awakened was that he was in the midst of a most charming and interesting dream—it was, that he had inherited all the great wealth of his rich neighbour Eucrates, and was giving a grand supper on the occasion. He had thought he should now be able to repay the insolence of his former acquaintance Simo, who from a cobbler like himself had become suddenly a rich man, and would no longer recognise his old associate. The Cock assures his master that in his present poor estate he is really happier than many of the wealthy and great; and he will give him proof positive of his assertion. One of the two long feathers in his (the cock's) tail—the right-hand one—has the miraculous power of opening locks, and even making a passage through walls: he bids Micyllus pull it out. The cobbler pulls out both, to make sure, at which the Cock is very angry, until assured by his master that with one feather he would have looked very lop-sided. Armed with this talisman (the same which Le Sage has borrowed for his 'Diable Boiteux'), the pair fly through the sleeping city from house to house. They visit amongst others Simo and Eucrates: they find the former hiding his money, unable to sleep, in an agony for fear of thieves; and the latter cheated and betrayed by his wife and his servants. And the cobbler goes back home a wiser and more contented man.


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missed the attendant.

YOUTH

“What did you really think when

I told you I wasn’t going to marry Monty?” A smile of justified cleverness lighted up his pain-wern face. “I’d never thought that you would.” “Cute little Jimmie! Why not?” “Too much brains. He’d never keep you interested and you found it out in time.” “Not too soon,” observed the girl with a grimace. “The family are still raising merry Hades about it.” “Naturally. You don’t think you’re entitled to any Sunday-school award for good behaviour on the thing, do you?” “No. I don’t,” admitted Pat. But she pouted. A silence fell between them. It lasted for a full turn around the garden. Tired of pouting, Pat broke it. “Want to play bezique, Jimmie?” “No.”

“Want me to read to you?” “No, dear.”

“What the devil do you want? Oh, I’m sorry, Jimmie! I believe P've got nerves. Never knew there were such things before.” “Pat, stop the chair.” “What’s the idea,

Jimmie?”

“Come around here where I can see you.” ‘As per order.” “T know the man.” “What man?” “The other man.” “T’ve been acquainted with several of °em in my life.” “So I’ve been given to understand. I’m talking about the man on whose account you broke your engagement.” “You’re seeing things, Jimmie. Monty himself is the nigger in that woodpile.”

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text: Lucian (Collins)/Chapter 6

title: Lucian (Collins)/Chapter 6


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825

‘What about Cary Scott?” The look with which she faced him did not waver. “Well, what about him?’ “He’s coming back.” “Coming back? Here?” Still her eyes were steady, but there was the faintest catch in her breathing. ‘Well, no; he isn’t. I just said that as an experiment. Though, of course, he might come if you wanted him. You do want him, don’t you, Pat dear?”

“Sometimes. Other times I don’t. How did you know?” “When you’ve nothing to do but think,” he explained, “vou get tired of thinking about yourself by and by and

begin to think about other people.

I’ve been thinking a

lot about you since we got to be pals.” “You’re a dear, Jimmie-jams.”

“I’m an old crab. But I’m was good to me, too, when I was think hard enough about people to see things about them, even

fond of you. And Scott first laid up. When you you’re fond of you begin things they may not see,

themselves.” “Even things that maybe aren’t there at all,” she mocked. “This is there,” he asseverated. ‘“There’s no use your pretending. When we talk I’m always catching echoes of Scott’s influence in what you say. You’re a different Pat from what you were before you knew him. I don’t

think you get on so well with yourself.” “You are clever, Jimmie.

I don’t.

And it makes me

furious.” “At him?” “Yes. I don’t know. At myself, too.” “JT had a letter from him last week. We’ve carried on a desultory correspondence since he left.”

Pat’s eyes livened.

“What does he say about me?”

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text:
Page:National Anti-Corruption Commission Act 2022.pdf/46

 Division 2—The Deputy Commissioners

18 The Deputy Commissioners

There are to be up to 3 National Anti-Corruption Deputy Commissioners.

19 Functions of a Deputy Commissioner

(1) The functions of a Deputy Commissioner are:

 * (a) to assist the Commissioner in performing the Commissioner's functions; and

 * (b) any other function conferred on a Deputy Commissioner by this Act or another Act.

(2) In performing those functions, a Deputy Commissioner must comply with any directions of the Commissioner.

(3) A direction under subsection (2) is not a legislative instrument.


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“How do you know he says anything about you?” “Don’t tease. Tell Pattie.” “You ought to know Scott well enough to realise that he isn’t the sort to display his feelings in a show window. But there are lines that one could read between. Have you written to him, Pat?” “No.”

“Aren’t you going to send for him?” Her face darkened with troubled memories. “I couldn’t. You don’t understand.

I couldn’t, Jimmie.”

“T could write.” “You shan’t. You mustn’t; if you do Dll hate you. Promise.” “All right. I promise. But don’t you really want to see him ever again?” “Sometimes I think I'll die if I don’t,” she said simply. “Other times—I don’t know.” “Why not find out? Won’t you let me write?” “No;

no.

“Very well.

You’ve

promised.”

Dll keep to it. Take me inside, slave.”

He did not write.

He cabled,

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 CHAPTER

XXXV

Faint spice of budding clematis was fragrant in the air at Holiday Knoll. On her way to the street Pat passed through the arbour with a little, warm shiver of recollection. How long ago that other October seemed, that night when, amidst the scents and seductions of the year’s late warmth she had opened her arms and her lips to Cary Scott in that first, unforgettable red kiss of their passion; how far away; how deep buried under other, varied experiences! Would he ever come back? It was many weeks since James had talked of him, suggesting the possibility, and the subject had not again been brought up. Would she really want him back if she could have him? And what would she do with him if he came? Or he with her? Or fate with them both? Pat had become a good deal of a fatalist. It was a convenient theory and dovetailed neatly with her religion, enabling her to compound with her conscience at the smallest expense of selfblame. Fate, she felt, had saved her from marrying Monty Standish, which was a large count to its credit.

Chiefly because of Monty she was now going down to the village. For he was due back after a long absence for repairs to his damaged heart, and the local old cats had prophesied that Pat would leave town, for a time anyway, “if she possesses a grain of decent feeling.” Pat purposed to do nothing of the sort. Neither Monty Standish nor any other living specimen of the male sex could run her off the public streets! For excuse she had some marketing to do, and she set forth with her most nonchalant air and independent shoulder swing. She’d 327

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show ‘em whether she was ashamed or afraid to meef | Monty! After pervading the town for a while she would | run over for her daily chatter with Jimmie jams. Jimmie

was growing very frail and weary and had a leak of eager, anxious expectancy, these days. Pat thought that she knew what he was waiting for. Te eee void in her life when Jimmie got his release.

Emerging from the fruit shop where she hoped to find an avocado pear for him, she saw a man standing on the earh

His back was turmed, buat there was that in the

set of his shoulders, the slender grace of the figure, the poise of the head which startled her heart to ane great throb of excited delight. Here, indeed, was relief from dull days, food for that greed of excitement, of “thrill.” which life had not yet begun to sate for her. “Mist-er Scott He whirled about. His face lighted up. Taking the

hand which she held out, he said, with the old, mocking half-lft of the brows: “Still that, Pat?” “What are you doing in Dorrisdale?™

“Tre just been telephoning Miss Patricia Fentriss. “She's out.” “Se I was informed. I begin te suspect it’s true.” Both laughed. Pat, quite charmed with herself for the

light and easy manner in which she was carrying off this potentially difficult situation, committed the error of leeking up into his eyes. There she read a hunger and a want that made her avert her gaze. She sought hurriedly for somethingto say. “I didn’t even know that you were in this country”

“J wasn’t until last might."

He had fallen into step

beside her.

“I was going to the Jameses’,” she remarked a little lamely. “I go there every morning.”

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text:
Page:Flaming Youth black on red.pdf/333

 FLAMING YOUTH “Yes; I know.

James has written me.

329 You make life

bearable for him. It’s rather wonderful of you, Pat.” “I like to go there,” she said in disclaimer of his praise. “Will you come with me?” “Yes;if I may.”

For two squares that was his only remark. Pat grew restless. “You’re not too conversational,” she complained. “I was thinking,” he said quietly; “how very lovely you’ve grown.” “Have

I, Cary?”

The soft echo of the old, throaty

crow was in her voice. “I ought to be a ruin. troubles enough.” “Troubles? You? Haven’t you been well?”

T’ve had

‘“D’you think that’s the only kind of trouble a girl can have? There are others! I came near having the worst of ’em four months ago.” “Why then?” “Date of my wedding,” said Pat briefly, with intent to create a sensation. She failed. “Yes;

I heard you were

to have been married,”

he

remarked calmly. “And the rest of it?” “That you broke off your engagement? Yes.” “Who told your” “T found a letter when the ship docked. From James.” Pat’s eyes snapped with suspicion. “Did Jimmie write you to come back here? From Europe, I mean.” “He cabled.” “Jimmie’s a Never mind what he is. Pll tell him to his face, when we get there.” But when they got there T. Jameson James, it seemed,

was not feeling very brisk.

Well enough to have them

come up to his room; oh, yes, that; and warmly glad to see Scott again. After a few moments’ talk, however, he

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displayed symptoms of weariness. He even hinted that he would be better off for the time without visitors. Pat, with the perverseness of her excitement and antici-

pations, insisted on staying to read to her brother-in-law as usual. This he vetoed outright. “No. I don’t want you. I’m sleepy. Take Scott over to the Knoll for luncheon. He’s probably famished. And Dee had to go to town, so there’s nothing to be had here. Run along.” Her hand being thus forced, Pat issued the invitation, and she and Scott left the sick-room. But they had not reached the front door when she turned and darted upstairs again. Throwing herself down by the cripple’s couch she caught his head to her bosom and cherished it there. “Oh, Jimmie! You promise-breaker. You old lar! I adore you.” She pressed a swift kiss on his cheek and was gone. Mr. T. Jameson James made a face at the Devil and chuckled himself to sleep. Rejoining Scott outside Pat commanded: “Tell me everything you’ve been doing in the big, big world.” He was unprotestingly obedient, cheerfully impersonal throughout the walk to the Knoll. But never had she been more conscious of the quiet compulsion of his charm. Her arms ached for him. They entered the house by the side door. Instinctively Pat turned toward the conservatory, but some inexplicable revulsion of feeling checked her. “No; not there,” she said. “Let’s go to the library.” No sooner had the door closed behind them, than she turned to his embrace not so much yielding to.as claiming

him back. After the long kiss she stood away from him, but with her hands still clinging upon his shoulders, “That makes it seem all real again,” she breathed,

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 FLAMING

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331

“Have you grown so far away from me as that, my darling?” “Well, I was going to marry Monty Standish, you know,” she reminded him.

“Yes. Why didn’t you?” “T couldn’t. You were in the way.” “Pat! That’s what I’ve feared and dreaded more than P “Wait. It isn’t what you think. And it isn’t all. Before I was engaged to Monty I ran away with a boy to Boston. And you spoiled that.” “JT don’t understand,” he said dully. “TI left him before—well, before anything. Because”— she whirled away from him, flung herself upon the lounge, and blew him an airy kiss—“because I happened to think of you at the wrong time. Or perhaps it was the right time. Anyway, his collar gaped. Like a sick fish. And yours always set so beautifully. So I beat it.” She was all petite gamine now. “You’re always getting in my way, Cary. Aren’t you ’shamed?” He smiled at her his little twisted, tolerant smile.

“You

don’t change much, do you, little Pat?” “Oh, I’m fer-rightfully changed. Much more serious. Years older. Lost my girlish illusions. All that sorta thing. You won’t like me nearly as much, you’re so serious yourself.” Her eyes blazed with enjoyment of the situation and the excitement of his proximity. “Most of the time I haven’t believed it, though. Have you?” “Believed what, Pat?’ “About us. All of it, I mean.

That we were—lovers.

It got to seem like a dream to me; something way, far off. In another life. Or like something that had happened to some other girl. It didn’t seem real to me, not even when I told Monty.” ‘Ah, you told him?”

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 332 “Had to.

FLAMING

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What'd you think I'd do?”

“Knowing your courage and honour, that’s what Pd think you'd do.” The hard, excited glitter softened out of her eyes. “I knew you’d want me ss Cary. Of course I never told him who the man was.” “And is that what “What broke the engagement? It did for a while. Then he came back. But I couldn’t stand it. Nothing above the ears, Cary. It wasn’t even the First Dreaming for me. You remember what you said that day you drove me over to Cissie’s about my marrying, and about keeping you in the background of my mind?”

aves? “But you don’t stay there,” she complained childishly. “You're always popping out and spoiling things.” She gave him a challenging look. “I was sort of keeping you for my Second Dreaming.” Scott laughed. “Pat, dearest, are you flirting with me after P’ve come four thousand miles i: “What did you come for?” “For you.” Her loosely clasped hands stirred and parted. “Well—

here I am.” “That’s not enough.” “You don’t want much, do you?” she murmured. “Everything or nothing now. You know I’m free.” She nodded. “I can see what’s coming,” she said with a pretence of demureness. “If you’ve hopped across those four thousand miles from a sense of duty to the weeping

girl that you left behind. “Pat!” “Don’t bark at me. It frazzles my nerves. done any weeping over you, Cary. thrills cf life.

I haven't

Too busy with the

Would you have come back, I wonder, if

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 FLAMING

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333

you could have known everything that’s been going on, Suppose I’d stayed in Boston that time?” SOW

ell 2??

“Wouldn’t that make a difference?” “In my wanting to marry you? No.” “Suppose,” she said more slowly, “I’d had an affair, a real affair with Monty. Like ours.” A spasm of pain passed over his face. “I shouldn’t blame you. How could I?” “Wouldn’t it make any difference in your loving me??? “Not an iota.” “Wouldn’t you even care?” she flashed in resentful wrath. “Care? Good God, Pat, if you saw a man in torture——” “Oh, don’t, Cary, dear,” she cried, startled and remorseful. “It isn’t true. It’s just my sneaking, rotten curiosity to know how you’d feel about it.” She pursed her lips, musing darkly. “I wonder,” she began. “Have you been true to me? Not that I’ve got any right to ask or that it makes a bit of difference in my young life whether you have or not, but just » She broke off, leaning forward, studying his face as he looked at her in silence. “Cary! Why don’t you say something? I would care. I'd care like hell.” “I came back,” he said slowly, “because you are the one and only woman in the world for me and always have been since [ saw you. Is that enough answer?”

“From any other man in the world it wouldn’t be an answer at all, From you it’s enough.” “Will you marry me, Pat?” She jumped to her feet, walked over to the window, and looked out to where the clematis blooms trembled in

the wind.

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text:
Page:National Anti-Corruption Commission Act 2022.pdf/47

 Division 3—The National Anti-Corruption Commission

20 Establishment of the National Anti-Corruption Commission

(1) The National Anti-Corruption Commission (the NACC) is established by this section.

(2) For the purposes of the finance law:

 * (a) the NACC is a listed entity; and

 * (b) the CEO is the accountable authority of the NACC; and

 * (c) the staff members of the NACC (as defined in section 266) are officials of the NACC; and

 * (d) the purposes of the NACC include:

 * (i) the functions of the Commissioner referred to in section 17; and

 * (ii) the functions of a Deputy Commissioner referred to in section 19; and

 * (iii) the functions of the NACC referred to in section 22; and

 * (iv) the functions of the CEO referred to in section 252.

21 Constitution of the NACC

The NACC consists of:

 * (a) the Commissioner; and

 * (b) any Deputy Commissioners; and

 * (c) the CEO; and

 * (d) the staff referred to in section 262.

22 Functions of the NACC

The NACC has the following functions:

 * (a) to assist the Commissioner in performing the Commissioner's functions;

 * (b) to assist any Deputy Commissioner in performing the Deputy Commissioner's functions.


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“Oh, I suppose so,” she said fretfully.

“If you want

to take the chance.” “What chance, dear love?”

“The chance every man takes that marries a girl of the kind you men all seem to want to marry. How many of the married set here d’you suppose are true to their husbands?” “JT don’t like you cynical, Pat. You've been letting something poison your mind.” “Not me. I see things as they are; that’s all. Ask Con. Ask Dee. Ask Bobs. Ask any of *em. You know you could have had Con if you’d really wanted her. And then I butted in.” Her chuckle was full of diablerie. It still persisted in her tone as she continued: “Cary, what would you do to me if I went straying off the reservation after we were married?”

“Nothing.” “Oh, don*t be so calm and superior and noble about it,” she fretted. “You'd tempt an angel to try a flutter just to see whether she would get by with it.” “What do you want me to say, Pat?” “T want you to tell me honestly how you think you’re going to hold me if I do marry you.” “Come over here.” She walked across to him, defiant, daring, provocative.

“Well?” “You love me, don’t you, Pat?” “You make me when you’re with me.” “And when I’m not?” “That’s just the trouble. You're there all the time, parked just around the corner and you won't let me love anybody else enough to—to do any good.” “And if I asked you now,” he said, low and insistent,

“you'd come back to me and be to me what you were before, Wouldn’t you?”

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 FLAMING

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335

There was a quickening in her shadowed eyes, in her soft breathing. “You know I would,” she whispered. “How. could I help myself?” “Then you couldn’t very well marry anyone else, could your” “Pve tried. It was a fliv, as you know. What’s the answer?” “Isn’t it plain enough? Why not try me—on your own terms?” “Where do you get that ‘own term’ stuff, Cary?” she demanded suspiciously. “Do you know about Dee and Jimmie; their arrangement?” “No.7?

“It’s a secret.

But you belong to us,” she added

sweetly ;“to the Fentrisses.

So I’ll tell you.

They were

to stay married for a month and after that if either of _ them wanted to quit, they were just to live like unmarried people without any fuss. Only Jimmie wouldn’t keep to it. That’s what made the row.” “Would you like to try that plan?” he asked in an inscrutable tone. “Would you do it?” She looked at him doubtfully. “Would you really let me go after a month if I wanted to?” “After aday. Do you think I'd try to hold you against your wish?” “Then I don’t think you can love me much,” she objected with perverse jealousy. “Tt strikes me as a perfectly fair bargain to both. I certainly ought to be willing to take the chance,” he said reasonably, “if you are.” “Tf Jam! Cary! You mean that you—might—-want —to leave me?” A startled incredulity made the words

jerky. “One can never be quite certain how these things are

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FLAMING YOUTH

going to turn out, can one?” he observed with a fine air of judicial detachment. “Shall I have my lawyer draw the agreement?” “Cary; you’re laughing at me,” she accused. “Far

be it from

me,

in a matter

of such

serious

import “You are! You're hateful! It isn’t fair. You know that’s the way to hold me and you know you don’t mean to let me get loose for a single minute. I don't like your

knowing so dam’ much about women,” she continued plaintively. “It makes it so uneven.” “T’m trying to be fair,” he pointed out. He drew a chair up to the writing desk. the scheme.

speaking

the

‘This

words

“Suppose I just sketch out

agreement,’

slowly,

he dictated

‘between

to himself,

Patricia

Fentriss i “Scott,” she interposed. “—Scott—thank you, dearest—and—Cary—Scott— for—the—space—of—one—month—after——_”

She mouth, ing of him it bent across his shoulder, put a soft hand over his then slipped it aside to make place for the yearn her own lips. When she finally leaned back from was to say judicially: “I offer an amendment. Let’s make it twenty years instead of a month. But, oh, Cary, darling! Her eyes darkened, brooded, dreamed, grew sombre, subtle, prophetic as she gave voice to her warning. “As a husband you'll have to be a terribly on-the-job lover. There are so many men in the world!”

FINIS

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text:
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 y

z HON

OA i

f

fons

ee

Lat MN,

‘

pil

Gsi

ahh

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text:
Page:National Anti-Corruption Commission Act 2022.pdf/48

Division 1—Meaning of NACC disclosure

23 Meaning of NACC disclosure

A person makes a NACC disclosure if:

 * (a) the person refers, or provides other information about, a corruption issue to the Commissioner or the IGIS under Part 5; or

 * (b) the person refers, or provides other information about, a NACC corruption issue to the Inspector under section 202 or 203; or

 * (c) the person gives evidence or information, or produces a document or a thing, under this Act to a NACC Commissioner, the IGIS or the Inspector in relation to any of the following:

 * (i) a corruption issue;

 * (ii) a NACC Act process;

 * (iii) a NACC corruption issue;

 * (iv) a complaint made in relation to the conduct or activities of the NACC or a staff member of the NACC.


text:
Page:National Anti-Corruption Commission Act 2022.pdf/49

 Division 2—Protection of persons from liability

24 Protection of persons from liability

(1) If a person makes a NACC disclosure:

 * (a) the person is not subject to any civil, criminal or administrative liability (including disciplinary action) for the NACC disclosure; and

 * (b) no contractual or other remedy may be enforced, and no contractual or other right may be exercised, against the person on the basis of the NACC disclosure.

(2) Without limiting subsection (1):

 * (a) the person has absolute privilege in proceedings for defamation in respect of the NACC disclosure; and

 * (b) a contract to which the person is a party must not be terminated on the basis that the NACC disclosure constitutes a breach of the contract.

25 Liability for false or misleading statements unaffected

(1) Section 24 does not apply to civil, criminal or administrative liability (including disciplinary action) for knowingly making a statement that is false or misleading.

(2) Without limiting subsection (1), section 24 does not apply to liability for an offence against section 137.1, 137.2, 144.1 or 145.1 of the Criminal Code.

26 Person's liability for own conduct not affected

To avoid doubt, whether the person's disclosure of their own conduct is a NACC disclosure does not affect the person's liability for the conduct.

27 Claims for protection

(1) If, in civil or criminal proceedings (the primary proceedings) instituted against a person in a court, the person makes a claim


text: Template:Biblecontents/sandbox

title: Template:Biblecontents/sandbox


text:
International Criminal Court Act

 * International Criminal Court Act 2001 (c. 17), an UK Act of Parliament that gives effect to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court and to criminalize genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes under domestic law.
 * International Criminal Court Act 2002 (Cth.), an Australian Act providing for similar issues but not the domestic crimes (which are codified in Chapter 8 of the Criminal Code (Cth.))
 * International Criminal Court Act 2006 (No. 30 of 2006), a Irish Act providing for similar issues.
 * International Criminal Court Act, 2010 (Act 11 of 2010), an Ugandan Act providing for similar issues.

title: International Criminal Court Act


text:
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title: Template:Biblecontents/styles.css


text: Template:Biblecontents/testcases

title: Template:Biblecontents/testcases


title: Template:Biblecontents2/testcases


text: The Necromancer (Kahlert)/Volume 2

title: The Necromancer (Kahlert)/Volume 2


text:
Page:Literary Lapses - Leacock - 1919.djvu/39

a good deal with the Millionaires. I like them. I like their faces. I like the way they live. I like the things they eat. The more we mix together the better I like the things we mix.

Especially I like the way they dress, their grey check trousers, their white check waist-coats, their heavy gold chains, and the signet-rings that they sign their cheques with. My! they look nice. Get six or seven of them sitting together in the club and it's a treat to see them. And if they get the least dust on them, men come and brush it off. Yes, and are glad to. I'd like to take some of the dust off them myself.

Even more than what they eat I like their intellectual grasp. It is wonderful. Just watch them read. They simply read all the time. Go into the club at any hour and you'll see three or four of them at it. And the things they can read! You'd think that a man who'd been driving hard in the office from eleven o'clock until three, with only an


text:
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  hour and a half for lunch, would be too fagged. Not a bit. These men can sit down after office hours and read the Sketch and the Police Gazette and the Pink Un, and understand the jokes just as well as I can.

What I love to do is to walk up and down among them and catch the little scraps of conversation. The other day I heard one lean forward and say, "Well, I offered him a million and a half and said I wouldn't give a cent more, he could either take it or leave it" I just longed to break in and say, "What! what! a million and a half! Oh! say that again! Offer it to me, to either take it or leave it. Do try me once: I know I can: or here, make it a plain million and let's call it done."

Not that these men are careless over money. No, sir. Don't think it. Of course they don't take much account of big money, a hundred thousand dollars at a shot or anything of that sort. But little money. You've no idea till you know them how anxious they get about a cent, or half a cent, or less.

Why, two of them came into the club the other night just frantic with delight: they said wheat had risen and they'd cleaned up


text:
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  four cents each in less than half an hour. They bought a dinner for sixteen on the strength of it. I don't understand it. I've often made twice as much as that writing for the papers and never felt like boasting about it.

One night I heard one man say, "Well, let's call up New York and offer them a quarter of a cent." Great heavens! Imagine paying the cost of calling up New York, nearly five million people, late at night and offering them a quarter of a cent! And yet—did New York get mad? No, they took it. Of course it's high finance. I don't pretend to understand it. I tried after that to call up Chicago and offer it a cent and a half, and to call up Hamilton, Ontario, and offer it half a dollar, and the operator only thought I was crazy.

All this shows, of course, that I've been studying how the millionaires do it. I have. For years. I thought it might be helpful to young men just beginning to work and anxious to stop.

You know, many a man realizes late in life that if when he was a boy he had known what he knows now, instead of being what he is he might be what he won't; but how few boys


text:
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  stop to think that if they knew what they don't know instead of being what they will be, they wouldn't be? These are awful thoughts.

At any rate, I've been gathering hints on how it is they do it.

One thing I'm sure about. If a young man wants to make a million dollars he's got to be mighty careful about his diet and his living. This may seem hard. But success is only achieved with pains.

There is no use in a young man who hopes to make a million dollars thinking he's entitled to get up at 7.30, eat force and poached eggs, drink cold water at lunch, and go to bed at 10 p.m. You can't do it. I've seen too many millionaires for that. If you want to be a millionaire you mustn't get up till ten in the morning. They never do. They daren't. It would be as much as their business is worth if they were seen on the street at half-past nine.

And the old idea of abstemiousness is all wrong. To be a millionaire you need champagne, lots of it and all the time. That and Scotch whisky and soda: you have to sit up nearly all night and drink buckets of it. This is what clears the brain for business next day. I've seen some of these men with their brains


text:
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  so clear in the morning, that their faces look positively boiled.

To live like this requires, of course, resolution. But you can buy that by the pint.

Therefore, my dear young man, if you want to get moved on from your present status in business, change your life. When your landlady brings your bacon and eggs for breakfast, throw them out of window to the dog and tell her to bring you some chilled asparagus and a pint of Moselle. Then telephone to your employer that you'll be down about eleven o'clock. You will get moved on. Yes, very quickly.

Just how the millionaires make the money is a difficult question. But one way is this. Strike the town with five cents in your pocket. They nearly all do this; they've told me again and again (men with millions and millions) that the first time they struck town they had only five cents. That seems to have given them their start. Of course, it's not easy to do. I've tried it several times. I nearly did it once. I borrowed five cents, carried it away out of town, and then turned and came back at the town with an awful rush. If I hadn't struck a beer saloon in the suburbs and


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  spent the five cents I might have been rich to-day.

Another good plan is to start something. Something on a huge scale: something nobody ever thought of. For instance, one man I know told me that once he was down in Mexico without a cent (he'd lost his five in striking Central America) and he noticed that they had no power plants. So he started some and made a mint of money. Another man that I know was once stranded in New York, absolutely without a nickel. Well, it occurred to him that what was needed were buildings ten stories higher than any that had been put up. So he built two and sold them right away. Ever so many millionaires begin in some such simple way as that.

There is, of course, a much easier way than any of these. I almost hate to tell this, because I want to do it myself.

I learned of it just by chance one night at the club. There is one old man there, extremely rich, with one of the best faces of the lot, just like a hyena. I never used to know how he had got so rich. So one evening I asked one of the millionaires how old Bloggs had made all his money.


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  "How he made it?" he answered with a sneer. "Why he made it by taking it out of widows and orphans."

Widows and orphans! I thought, what an excellent idea. But who would have suspected that they had it?

"And how," I asked pretty cautiously, "did he go at it to get it out of them?"

"Why," the man answered, "he just ground them under his heels, that was how."

Now isn't that simple? I've thought of that conversation often since and I mean to try it. If I can get hold of them, I'll grind them quick enough. But how to get them. Most of the widows I know look pretty solid for that sort of thing, and as for orphans, it must take an awful lot of them. Meantime I am waiting, and if I ever get a large bunch of orphans all together, I'll stamp on them and see.

I find, too, on inquiry, that you can also grind it out of clergymen. They say they grind nicely. But perhaps orphans are easier.


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years ago I knew a man called Jiggins, who had the Health Habit.

He used to take a cold plunge every morning. He said it opened his pores. After it he took a hot sponge. He said it closed the pores. He got so that he could open and shut his pores at will.

Jiggins used to stand and breathe at an open window for half an hour before dressing. He said it expanded his lungs. He might, of course, have had it done in a shoe-store with a boot stretcher, but after all it cost him nothing this way, and what is half an hour?

After he had got his undershirt on, Jiggins used to hitch himself up like a dog in harness and do Sandow exercises. He did them forwards, backwards, and hind-side up.

He could have got a job as a dog anywhere. He spent all his time at this kind of thing. In his spare time at the office, he used to lie on his stomach on the floor and see if he could lift himself up with his knuckles. If he could,


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  then he tried some other way until he found one that he couldn't do. Then he would spend the rest of his lunch hour on his stomach, perfectly happy.

In the evenings in his room he used to lift iron bars, cannon-balls, heave dumb-bells, and haul himself up to the ceiling with his teeth. You could hear the thumps half a mile. He liked it.

He spent half the night slinging himself around his room. He said it made his brain clear. When he got his brain perfectly clear, he went to bed and slept. As soon as he woke, he began clearing it again.

Jiggins is dead. He was, of course, a pioneer, but the fact that he dumb-belled himself to death at an early age does not prevent a whole generation of young men from following in his path.

They are ridden by the Health Mania.

They make themselves a nuisance.

They get up at impossible hours. They go out in silly little suits and run Marathon heats before breakfast. They chase around barefoot to get the dew on their feet. They hunt for ozone. They bother about pepsin. They won't eat meat because it has too much


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  nitrogen. They won't eat fruit because it hasn't any. They prefer albumen and starch and nitrogen to huckleberry pie and doughnuts. They won't drink water out of a tap. They won't eat sardines out of a can. They won't use oysters out of a pail. They won't drink milk out of a glass. They are afraid of alcohol in any shape. Yes, sir, afraid. "Cowards."

And after all their fuss they presently incur some simple old-fashioned illness and die like anybody else.

Now people of this sort have no chance to attain any great age. They are on the wrong track.

Listen. Do you want to live to be really old, to enjoy a grand, green, exuberant, boastful old age and to make yourself a nuisance to your whole neighbourhood with your reminiscences?

Then cut out all this nonsense. Cut it out. Get up in the morning at a sensible hour. The time to get up is when you have to, not before. If your office opens at eleven, get up at ten-thirty. Take your chance on ozone. There isn't any such thing anyway. Or, if there is, you can buy a Thermos bottle full for


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  five cents, and put it on a shelf in your cupboard. If your work begins at seven in the morning, get up at ten minutes to, but don't be liar enough to say that you like it. It isn't exhilarating, and you know it.

Also, drop all that cold-bath business. You never did it when you were a boy. Don't be a fool now. If you must take a bath (you don't really need to), take it warm. The pleasure of getting out of a cold bed and creeping into a hot bath beats a cold plunge to death. In any case, stop gassing about your tub and your "shower," as if you were the only man who ever washed.

So much for that point.

Next, take the question of germs and bacilli. Don't be scared of them. That's all. That's the whole thing, and if you once get on to that you never need to worry again.

If you see a bacilli, walk right up to it, and look it in the eye. If one flies into your room, strike at it with your hat or with a towel. Hit it as hard as you can between the neck and the thorax. It will soon get sick of that.

But as a matter of fact, a bacilli is perfectly


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  quiet and harmless if you are not afraid of it. Speak to it. Call out to it to "lie down." It will understand. I had a bacilli once, called Fido, that would come and lie at my feet while I was working. I never knew a more affectionate companion, and when it was run over by an automobile, I buried it in the garden with genuine sorrow.

(I admit this is an exaggeration. I don't really remember its name; it may have been Robert.)

Understand that it is only a fad of modern medicine to say that cholera and typhoid and diphtheria are caused by bacilli and germs; nonsense. Cholera is caused by a frightful pain in the stomach, and diphtheria is caused by trying to cure a sore throat.

Now take the question of food.

Eat what you want. Eat lots of it. Yes, eat too much of it. Eat till you can just stagger across the room with it and prop it up against a sofa cushion. Eat everything that you like until you can't eat any more. The only test is, can you pay for it? If you can't pay for it, don't eat it. And listen—don't worry as to whether your food contains starch, or albumen, or gluten, or nitrogen. If you are a damn


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  fool enough to want these things, go and buy them and eat all you want of them. Go to a laundry and get a bag of starch, and eat your fill of it. Eat it, and take a good long drink of glue after it, and a spoonful of Portland cement. That will gluten you, good and solid.

If you like nitrogen, go and get a druggist to give you a canful of it at the soda counter, and let you sip it with a straw. Only don't think that you can mix all these things up with your food. There isn't any nitrogen or phosphorus or albumen in ordinary things to eat. In any decent household all that sort of stuff is washed out in the kitchen sink before the food is put on the table.

And just one word about fresh air and exercise. Don't bother with either of them. Get your room full of good air, then shut up the windows and keep it. It will keep for years. Anyway, don't keep using your lungs all the time. Let them rest. As for exercise, if you have to take it, take it and put up with it. But as long as you have the price of a hack and can hire other people to play baseball for you and run races and do gymnastics when you sit in the shade and smoke and watch them—great heavens, what more do you want?


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 subject to Aidugama. Because we ask, march thou here and mayest all the land of Hobah. My Lord, as said, the city Timasgi, in the land of Hobah, is without sin at thy feet; and aid thou the city Katna which is without sin at thy feet. It has been feeble. And my Lord in presence of my messenger the master shall ordain (our) fate. As has been said, have not I served in the presence of the bitati soldiers of my Lord? Behold, as said, my Lord has promised soldiers to this my land, and they shall in the city Katna.”

96 B., a letter mainly complimentary, from Neboyapiza to the King of Egypt, ends as follows:

“Behold I myself, with my soldiers and my chariots, with my brethren and with (men of blood?) and with my people the men of my kindred go to meet the Egyptian soldiers, as far as the ground which the King my Lord will name.”

142 B.—“To the King my Lord thus saith this thy servant. At the feet of my Lord my Sun seven times on my face, seven times I bow. My Lord I am thy servant, and they will devour me—Neboyapiza: we abide before thy face, my Lord, and lo! they will devour me in your sight. Behold every fortress of my fathers is taken, by the people out of the city Gidisi. And my fortresses (say) ‘Speed us avengers.’ I make ready, and (because that?) the Pakas of the King my Lord, and the chiefs of his land have known my faithfulness, behold I complain to the ruler being one approved; let the ruler consider that (Neboyapiza) has given proof for now they have cast thee out. As for me, I have (gathered?) all my brethren, and we have made the place strong for the King my Lord. I have caused them to march with my soldiers and with my chariots, and with all my people. And behold Neboyapiza has sped to all the fortresses of the King my Lord. Part of the men of blood are from the land Ammusi, and (part) from the land of Hubi, and it is won (or reached). But march fast, thou who art a God and a Sun in my sight, and restore the strong-


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 56 Turkey, and India. Not that we think Islám will present any fairer proportions even when deprived of those excrescences which are supposed to have been the preternatural growth of tradition, as long as the Pilgrimage has the so-called divine sanction of the Qurán, and the position of women is regulated by the same "divine oracles."

The following are the six principal collectors of Hadiís received by the Sunni Muhammadans:—


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 Rh Some divines substitute the following for that of Ibn-i-Májah.

Muawattáa Imám Málik.

Born, 95; died, 179.

The following are the collections of Hadís received by the Shíaʾh:—

1. The Káfi, by Abu Jáfar Muhammad, 329.

2. The Man-lá-yastahzirah-al-Faqíh, by Shekh ʾAli, 381.

3. The Tahzíb, by Shekh Abu Jáfar Muhammad, 466.

4, The Istibsár, by the same author.

5. The Nahaj-ul-Balághat, by Sayyud Razi, 406.

Copies of the Sihah-Sittah, or "six correct" books of tradition received by the Sunnis, together with the seventh work by Imám Málik, have been lithographed, and can be purchased in the book shops of Delhi, Lucknow, and Bombay; but the work most read is the Mishkát-ul-Musábíh (the niche for lamps), which is a collection of the most reliable traditions. This work was originally in Arabic; but it was translated into Persian in the reign of Akbar. It was rendered into English by Cap-


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 58 tain Matthews, and published in Calcutta in 1809. The English translation has been long since out of print, but efforts are being made by the author of these notes for its republication. The popular collection of Shíaʾh traditions arranged in the form of an historical narrative is the Hyát-ul-Qulub, a Persian work which has been translated by the Rev. J. L. Merrick (Phillips, Sampson & Co., Boston, U.S., 1850).

The most trustworthy of the various collections of Sunni traditions is the one usually called Bokhárí. It was compiled by Abu Abdullah Muhammad ibn-i-Ismaíl a native of Bokhára. In obedience to instructions he is said to have received in a vision, he set himself to commence the collection of all the current traditions relating to Muhammad. He succeeded in collecting not fewer than six hundred thousand traditions, of which he selected only 7275 as trustworthy! These he recorded in his work; but it is said that he repeated a two rikʾat prayer before he wrote down any one of the 7275 traditions which he recorded. There is, therefore, every reason to believe that the compilers of the books of tradition


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 holds to the King my Lord from the men of blood. For they have cast him out; and the men of blood have rebelled, and are invaders of the King my Lord. We were obedient to thy yoke, and they have cast out the King my Lord, and all my brethren.”

It appears, from other letters, that the city of this chief was the important town Cumidi, now Kamid, in the southern Lebanon, at the south end of the Baalbek plain, west of Baal Gad. In Abu el Feda’s time this town was the capital of the surrounding district.

189 B. is much broken. It is from Arzana, chief of the city Khazi. He speaks of an attack on Tusulti, by bloody soldiers fighting against the place, and perhaps of the city Bel Gidda (Baal Gad), and mentions a Paka, or Egyptian official, called Aman Khatbi, named after the Egyptian god Amen. The foes are spoiling the valley (of Baalbek) in sight of the Egyptian general, and are attacking Khazi, his city. They had already taken Maguzi, and are spoiling Baal Gad. It seems that he asks the King not to blame his general, and speaks finally of friendly and faithful men.

43 B. M., broken at the top, reads thus:

“ his horses and his chariots to men of blood and not  As for me, I declare myself for the King my Lord, and a servant to preserve these to the King entirely. Biridasia perceives this, and has betrayed it, and he has secretly passed beyond my city Maramma; and the great pass is open behind me. And he is marching chariots from the city Astarti, and commands them for the men of blood, and does not command them for the King my Lord. Friendly to him is the King of the city Buzruna; and the King of the


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 Rh were sincere and honest in their endeavours to produce correct and well authenticated traditions of their Prophet's precepts and practice; but, as Sir William Muir remarks, "the exclusively oral character of the early traditions deprives them of every check against the licence of error and fabrication."

Sir William Muir has very ably dwelt upon the unsatisfactory character of Muhammadan tradition in the first volume of his "Life of Mahomet," to which Sayyid Ahmad Khán has written a reply in a supplement to his essay on Muhammadan tradition. The learned Sayyid is in this, as in almost everything he writes on the subject of religion, his own refutation. Sir William Muir reveals to the public "the higegledy-piggledy condition, the unauthenticity and the spuriousness of Muhammadan traditions," and surely Sayyid Ahmad Khán does but confirm the same when he writes: "All learned Muhammadan divines of every period have declared that the Qurán only is the Hadees mutawátir; but some doctors have declared certain other Hadeeses also to be Mutawátir, the number, however, of such Hadeeses not exceeding five. Such are the Hadeeses that


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 60 are implicitly believed, and ought to be religiously observed.

But although the traditions of Muhammad are shrouded with a degree of uncertainty which is perplexing, not to say vexatious, to the student of history, still there can be no doubt as to the place they were intended to, and still do occupy in the theological structure of Islám. The example of Muhammad is just as binding upon the Muslim as that of our Divine Lord and Saviour is upon the Christian. And everything Muhammad said with reference to religious dogmas and morals is believed to have been inspired by God; by a "wahí ghair-i-mutluʾ," or an inspiration similar in kind to that which we believe to have been given to the inspired writers of our Christian Scriptures.


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is the third foundation of the Muhammadan rule of faith. It literally means collecting, or assembling, and in Muslim divinity it expresses the unanimous consent of the Mujtahidín (learned doctors); or, as we should call it, 'the unanimous consent of the Fathers." A Mujtahid is a Muslim divine of the highest degree of learning, a title usually conferred by Muslim rulers. There are three foundations of Ijmaʾ: (1) Itifáq-i-Qauli, unanimous consent expressed in declaration of opinion; (2) Itifáq-i-Fiʾli, expressed in unanimity of practice; (3) Itifáq-i-Saqúti, when the majority of the Mujtahidín signified their tacit assent to the opinions of the minority by "silence" or non-interference.

The Mujtahidín, capable of making Ijmaʾ, must be "men of learning and piety, not heretics, nor fools, but men of judgment."

There is great diversity of opinion as to up to what period in the history of Islám,


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 62 Ijmaʾ can be accepted. Some doctors assert that only the Ijmaʾ of the Mujtahidín who were Asháb (companions); others, that of those who were not only "companions" but descendants" of the "Prophet," can be accepted; whilst others accept the Ijmaʾ of the Ansárs, (helpers,) and of the Muhájarín, (fugitives,) who were dwellers in Medina with Muhammad. The majority of learned Muslim divines, however, appear to think that Ijmaʾ may be collected in every age, although they admit that, owing to the numerous divisions which have arisen amongst Muhammadans, it has not been possible since the days of the Tabaʾ Tabaʾín, (i.e., the followers of the followers of the companions).

The following is considered to be the relative value of Ijmaʾ:—

That of the Asháb (companions) is equal to Hadís Mutawátir. That which was decided afterwards, but in accordance with the unanimous opinion of the Asháb, is equal to Hadís Khaber-i-Mashhúr, and that upon which there was diversity of opinion amongst the Asháb, but has since been decided by the later Mujtahidín is equal to Hadís-i-Khabar-i-Wáhid.


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Rh No man likes to see his emotions the sport of a merry-go-round of skittishness. "Very well," said Oak, firmly, with the bearing of one who was going to give his days and nights to Ecclesiastes for ever. "Then I'll ask you no more."


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Malthouse was inclosed by an old wall inwrapped with ivy, and though not much of the exterior was visible at this hour, the character and purposes of the building were clearly enough shown by its outline upon the sky. From the walls an overhanging thatched roof sloped up to a point in the centre, upon which rose a small wooden lantern, fitted with louvre-boards on all the four sides, and from these openings a mist was dimly perceived to be escaping into the night air. There was no window in front; but a square hole in the door was glazed with a single pane, through which red, comfortable rays now stretched out upon the ivied wall in front. Voices were to be heard inside.

Oak's hand skimmed the surface of the door with fingers extended to an Elymas-the-Sorcerer pattern, till he found a leathern strap, which he pulled. This lifted a wooden latch, and the door swung open.


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85 The room inside was lighted only by the ruddy glow from the kiln mouth, which shone over the floor with the streaming horizontally of the setting sun, and threw upwards the shadows of all facial irregularities in those assembled around, with the effect of the footlights upon the features of her Majesty's servants when they approach too near the front. The stone-flag floor was worn into a path from the doorway to the kiln, and into undulations everywhere. A curved settle of unplaned oak stretched along one side, and in a remote corner was a small bed and bedstead, the owner and frequent occupier of which was the maltster.

This aged man was now sitting opposite the fire, his frosty white hair and beard overgrowing his gnarled figure like the grey moss and lichen upon a leafless apple-tree. He wore breeches and the laced-up shoes called ankle-jacks; he kept his eyes fixed upon the fire.

Gabriel's nose was greeted by an atmosphere laden with the sweet smell of new malt. The conversation (which seemed to have been concerning the origin of the fire) immediately ceased, and every one ocularly criticized him to the degree expressed by contracting the flesh of their foreheads and looking at him with narrowed eyelids, as if he had been a light too strong for their sight.


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92 The chiefs of the Muhammedan religion in this district are the Kazis, who have a jurisdiction in all things considered as more immediately connected with religion, such as marriage, circumcision, the eating of forbidden things, and the like, and who act in some measure as notaries public in giving authenticity to contracts. The establishment in this province seems to be very irregular, some persons having under their jurisdiction 11 pergunnahs, and others, only one; and the extent of their jurisdiction has no connection with that of the magistrate. Many of them are not resident, at least within the bounds of their jurisdiction, and act by deputy. I believe, that formerly their office was in general hereditary; although the confirmation of the magistrate is now necessary. Their profits arise from fees. Those of them that I saw were decent persons, who had much more the manners of gentlemen than any other natives that I met in the district.

Under the Kazis area set of priests called Mollas, of whom there is one in general for every very populous subdivision (Mouza), or for every collection of smaller ones, that is called a Diyar. They are generally appointed by the Kazi, according to the wish of the heads of families. Although they are only a kind of deputies to the Kazi; yet as they are usually ignorant fanatics, they are more beloved by the populace. They read, or repeat, prayers or passages of the Koran at marriages, funerals, circumcision, and sacrifices; for no Muhammedan here will eat meat or fowl, over which prayers have not been repeated, before it has been killed; and the animals are frequently killed before the monument of some saint. According to the Kazis, many of these Mollas cannot read, and these only look at the book, while they repeat the passages. Indeed they are in little danger of detection, none of their audiences understanding a word of Arabic. Even these who are able to read very seldom understand this language.

The religious persons, however, who are most respected among the Moslems, are the mendicants called Faqirs. The number of reputed saints who have had monuments erected to their memory, generally over their tombs, is astonishing; and is a clear proof of the ignorance and bigotry that prevailed during the Muhammedan government. It may on an average be estimated, that there is at least one saint’s (Pir’s) monument in each subdivision, and the worship of these by offerings (Sirni) is the principal act of devotion in this district. Many of these monuments have no endowment, but the people of the village unite to keep it in repair, which is easily done, as it is usually a heap of earth, perhaps a little whitewashed; and in the evenings they also in turns light a lamp before it. But to many of the monuments, and at all those of any considerable reputation, there is an endowment in land to support one or more Faqirs, who repair the tomb, light the lamp, receive the offerings, and read or repeat the prayers (Fatya), that should accompany these donations. The mosques too, that have endowments, are usually placed under the charge of a Faqir, who should perform there the same duties; but the first is in general much neglected. He also calls the people to pray at the proper hour; but this part of worship, and the ablutions prescribed by Muhammed, are in general very much neglected by his followers in this district. Some of these Faqirs are no doubt very decent men in their manners; and some families, from their features and appearance, would seem to have preserved their blood free from mixture with the natives of this country: but in general they are very poor creatures, sunk in bigotry and ignorance, and affecting great sanctity and austerity of manners. Several whom I met would scarcely answer any question, but were continually sighing, groaning, and muttering prayers. The common conversation of the more rational among them is concerning the wonders performed by their saint; and while they very seldom


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Rh can tell when he lived, from whence he came, or any circumstance relative to his history, they generally suppose, that the whole affairs of the neighbourhood, if not of the world, are conducted by his interposition. As serpents are the common agents of some of the most usually worshipped Hindú deities, so tigers seem, not unaptly, to have been chosen by the Muhammedan saints. Many of the woods in this district grow on ruins, and most ruins have been taken possession of by a saint, whose vicinity is of course the common haunt of a tiger: and as these animals seldom attack man in this district, the Pir is generally allowed by persons of both religions to have restrained the natural ferocity of the beast, or, as it is more usually said, has given the tiger no order to kill men. The tigers and Faqirs are therefore on a very good footing, and the latter denounces the vengeance of the saint on any person who molests the beast of prey, and assures the people, that he is perfectly harmless towards all such as respect the saint, and make him offerings.

Besides these Faqirs, who have a regular establishment, whose office is hereditary, and none of whose families have been known to contaminate themselves by labour, but have lived entirely on the charity that has been procured either by themselves or ancestors, and who are exceedingly respected, there are some who have degraded themselves by industry, and many, who tempted by their notions of religion, or by indolence and avarice, have assumed the life of a Faqir, have dedicated themselves to God, and who live by begging. Fortunately some expense attends the ceremony, which prevents the order from increasing too rapidly, and new Faqirs are also expected to observe the rules of the order, according to the strict manner of those called Muríds. Faqirs in general marry, and all their children belong to the order; but a family does not obtain full respect for some generations, nor until all memory of their adoption into the order has been obliterated.

Some old Faqirs also observe particular customs, and are considered as more peculiarly dedicated to God. These are called Muríds, and cannot shave the head nor beard, and must perform the prayers and ablutions, as prescribed by their prophet.

Besides the neglect of prayer and ablution, the Muhammedans of this district forget the rules of their law in many points. They are in particular accused of being too easy husbands; for they neither confine their wives with proper strictness, nor are they even much offended at occasional private intercourse with those, who can render the situation of the family somewhat more comfortable. The Mollas also allege, that many persons, in order to save expense and defraud them, live as man and wife without having had the advantage of a religious ceremony.

A still more flagrant breach of the law is, I know, exceedingly common. Offerings at the monuments of saints are generally made from rather interested motives. The votary is in fact generally hopeful to procure some favour from the saint of much more value then the offering, and should he be disappointed, he usually has recource to some Hindú deity, and tries what may be done by means of a sacrifice. The heathen priest makes a little stretch of conscience, receives the offering for the honour of the god, and is liberal in his assurances that his prayers will be effectual. These priests, it must be observed, are of the dregs of the Brahmins; a man of a proper way of thinking would scorn to pray for a Turk.

Another practice savouring of idolatry is also very common. Images of horses, made of clay, are sold by many potters, and are placed on the monument of saints as offerings to induce them to cure the sick, or in consequence of vows made by those who have been in any danger.


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Summary
A 1961 printing of the 1928 books. Re-upload with proper capitalization in title.


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 agreement be completely fulfilled. By so doing your Majesty's treasury will be eased, and I think the reward of this work will be obtained by him who most deserves it—namely, the successor of the man who perished in it, since he left it to him, although he did not name him. It only remains for your Majesty to be pleased to declare, in favor of this kingdom, the subordination of that pacification to this one, since the latter proceeds from the former, and is, as it were, filial to it. There are other conveniences and arguments that favor this plan; and in the contrary plan there are many inconveniences, of which I understand that your Majesty is advised by these vessels. Now in the meantime, I am considering what it will be best to provide in the service of God, and of your Majesty, whom may our Lord preserve, etc. Manila, July 17, 1596.

Since the above was written, news has come of the expedition [to Camboja] which was made here. It is not such as we wished to hear, for of the three vessels that were taking part in it, one [illegible in MS.] a storm, and fell into the hands of the king of Cian. No news has been heard of the two others, although it is believed that Captain Gallinato still remains [illegible in MS.].

According to my understanding, it is very desirable that there always be galleys in this land for defense from its ills, and the conservation of its reputation from so many enemies by whom we are surrounded. Inasmuch as those here are found to be quite dilapidated and useless, I have deemed it fitting to your Majesty's service to build three or four.


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 of the numerous impositions and duties levied; so that I find this community much discouraged and disheartened. I shall try to repair this as well as possible, and will give your Majesty a more detailed account, both in this matter and in what concerns the two communities of Indians and Chinese, and whatever else there is to relate.

A founder of artillery is very much needed here. I entreat your Majesty to have one provided, as well as the fifty farmers mentioned in your Majesty's instructions. Above all, I entreat your Majesty, since this new plant and undertaking depends so much upon your Majesty in person, that you will have the kindness to consent to have soldiers sent to us annually; for, Sire, the hospital (where many die) takes its share every year, and another part is taken by certain expeditions and reënforcements that are sent out. As for those who are left, your Majesty should consider, if the ship from Mexico fails to come for even one year, how surrounded by so many fears of enemies is this country. Therefore I beseech your Majesty to order that the viceroy of Mexico shall be careful to provide troops each year, and that they be sent armed, of which there is little care.

As Captain Esteban Rrodriguez died while pacifying Mindanao, and left it almost reduced, and settled with about two hundred Spaniards, and as the country was being brought to your Majesty's obedience, it will be desirable for your royal service to continue the work. From what I have learned in these few days, I believe that your Majesty will be served by ordering that this pacification be continued at the expense of the heir of Esteban Rrodriguez, and with the latter's possessions, as they are sufficient, until the


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 sition of being able to work great things, worthy the royal soul and heart of your Majesty. For this object I think we shall need troops, arms, and money, which is the common strength. Also I found the colony somewhat weak both in its forces and in the faulty system and arrangement of its fortifications. I found also great need of royal buildings, and buildings for the cabildo, a slaughter-house, a prison, clean streets, and other public works. This may be because of the smallness of means. I shall remedy what I can, and give your Majesty a more detailed account of it later.

I find this kingdom safe from all fears of the Japanese at present, although not from the swarms of Chinese who resort hither in a haphazard and disorderly manner, unless we maintain the caution and foresight demanded by the little trust that we can place in their companionship and fidelity.

In respect to the person of Don Luys Perez Dasmariñas, whom I found acting as governor, I assure your Majesty that all his thought and life is dedicated to God and virtue. However, in matters of government I do not know what will be the outcome of some things, which I find very confused and remiss. I shall give you a more detailed account of them in a later letter, for now this vessel is on the point of sailing, and is outside the port.

The archbishop of this country remained in Mexico. This does not fail to cause a want, because of the great scarcity of prelates here.

I hear that the trade of this country, upon which its perpetuation chiefly depends, has greatly decreased, not only on account of the low prices of merchandise in Mexico, and the unprofitable exchanges and other misfortunes suffered by commerce, but also because


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 * Pacification of Mindanao. Juan de Ronquillo; May 10.
 * Memorial on navigation and conquest. Hernando de los Rios; June 27.
 * Letter to Felipe II. L. P. Dasmariñas; June 28.

 * All these documents are obtained from original MSS. in the Archivo general de Indias, Sevilla.

 * The first document is translated by James A. Robertson; the second, by Robert W. Haight; the third, by José M. and Clara M. Asensio.


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[This report of Ronquillo's is in places abridged, as he repeats many of his statements. He set sail (from Oton) on February 8, 1597, the earliest date possible after the receipt of supplies. Two virreys had been sent ahead under Francisco de Torres, with orders to coast from island to island, in order to avoid the dangers of the open sea; they had not yet been heard from. At the port of La Canela (i. e., "cinnamon;" modern Cáuit) Ronquillo found Captain Juan Pacho, who had gone for fish and salt for his command; and, as the men were scattered in Zamboanga and Taguima, there was a delay of three days in getting them together. Pilots from these forces were placed in each vessel to guide the ships to the river. Ronquillo then embarked on his fragata and ordered the Sangley vessel and those of the Indian chiefs from Danganlibor to follow. The brisas or northeasters were dead ahead, and to avoid the force of the winds he took his course inside of some islets. The Sangley vessel did not enter, as its draught was so great that the navigators feared to make the attempt. Since the Sangley vessel seemed to be in difficulties, he sent a captain to it; but he came back with the report that all was well. Ronquillo then sent directions as to their course. He had been informed by the sailor