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diff --git a/12788-h/12788-h.htm b/12788-h/12788-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3792c45 --- /dev/null +++ b/12788-h/12788-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23069 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org"> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient And Modern, by Charles Dudley Warner</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .heading {margin-left: 12em; margin-right: 12em;} /* heading indent */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i1 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i3 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i5 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 6em;} + .poem p.i7 {margin-left: 7em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem p.i9 {margin-left: 9em;} + + blockquote {text-align: justify; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%;} + IMG { + BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; + BORDER-TOP: 0px; + BORDER-LEFT: 0px; + BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px } + .ctr { TEXT-ALIGN: center } + .sign { float: right; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: -5%; + margin-right: 0%; + TEXT-ALIGN: center } + .rgt { float: right; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: -5%; + margin-right: -5%; + TEXT-ALIGN: center } + .lft { float: left; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: -5%; + margin-right: -5%; + TEXT-ALIGN: center } + .par { float: left; + margin-top: -1em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: -6%; + margin-right: -12%; + TEXT-ALIGN: center } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12788 ***</div> + +<h2>LIBRARY OF THE</h2> +<h1>WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE</h1> +<h3>ANCIENT AND MODERN</h3> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<h2>CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER</h2> +<h4>EDITOR</h4> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<h3>HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE<br> +LUCIA GILBERT RUNKLE<br> +GEORGE HENRY WARNER</h3> +<h4>ASSOCIATE EDITORS</h4> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<h3>Connoisseur Edition</h3> +<h4>VOL. II.</h4> +<h5>1896</h5> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE ADVISORY COUNCIL</h2> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>CRAWFORD H. TOY, A.M., LL.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of Hebrew,</p> +<p class="i2">HARVARD UNIVERSITY, Cambridge, Mass.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>THOMAS R. LOUNSBURY, LL.D., L.H.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of English in the Sheffield Scientific +School of</p> +<p class="i2">YALE UNIVERSITY, New Haven, Conn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WILLIAM M. SLOANE, PH.D., L.H.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of History and Political Science,</p> +<p class="i2">PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, Princeton, N.J.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>BRANDER MATTHEWS, A.M., LL.B.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of Literature,</p> +<p class="i2">COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, New York City.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>JAMES B. ANGELL, LL.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">President of the</p> +<p class="i2">UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN, Ann Arbor, Mich.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WILLARD FISKE, A.M., PH.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Late Professor of the Germanic and Scandinavian +Languages and Literatures,</p> +<p class="i2">CORNELL UNIVERSITY, Ithaca, N.Y.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>EDWARD S. HOLDEN, A.M., LL.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Director of the Lick Observatory, and Astronomer</p> +<p class="i2">UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, Berkeley, Cal.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>ALCÉE FORTIER, LIT.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of the Romance Languages,</p> +<p class="i2">TULANE UNIVERSITY, New Orleans, La.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WILLIAM P. TRENT, M.A.,</p> +<p class="i2">Dean of the Department of Arts and Sciences, and +Professor of English and History,</p> +<p class="i2">UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH, Sewanee, Tenn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>PAUL SHOREY, PH.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of Greek and Latin Literature,</p> +<p class="i2">UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, Chicago, Ill.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>WILLIAM T. HARRIS, LL.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">United States Commissioner of Education,</p> +<p class="i2">BUREAU OF EDUCATION, Washington, D.C.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN, A.M., LL.D.,</p> +<p class="i2">Professor of Literature in the</p> +<p class="i2">CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA, Washington, D.C.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>TABLE OF CONTENTS</h2> +<br> +<h3>VOL. II.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#HENRI_FREDERIC_AMIEL">HENRI FRÉDÉRIC +AMIEL</a>--<i>Continued</i> -- 1821-1881</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_01">Self-interest</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_02">Wagner's Music</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_03">Secret of Remaining Young</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_04">Results of Equality</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_05">View-Points of History</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_06">Introspection and +Schopenhauer</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_07">Music and the Imagination</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_08">Love and the Sexes</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_09">Fundamentals of Religion</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_10">Dangers from Decay of +Earnestness</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_11">Woman's ideal the Community's +Fate</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_12">French Self-Consciousness</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_13">Frivolous Art</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_14">Critical Ideals</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_15">The Best Art</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_16">The True Critic</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_17">Spring--Universal Religion</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_18">Introspective Meditations</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#P1_19">Destiny (just before death)</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ANACREON">ANACREON</a> -- B.C. 562?-477</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#DRINKING1">Drinking</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#AGE">Age</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_EPICURE">The Epicure</a></p> +<p class="i2"><i><a href="#GOLD">Gold</a></i></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_GRASSHOPPER">The Grasshopper</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SWALLOW">The Swallow</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_POETS_CHOICE">The Poet's +Choice</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#DRINKING2">Drinking</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_LOVERS_SIGH">A Lover's Sigh</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#HANS_CHRISTIAN_ANDERSEN">HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN</a> +(by Benjamin W. Wells) -- 1805-1875</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_1">The Steadfast Tin +Soldier</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_2">The Teapot</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_3">The Ugly Duckling</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_4">What the Moon Saw</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_5">The Lovers</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_6">The Snow Queen</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_7">The Nightingale</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_8">The Market Place ('The Story of +My Life')</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_9">Andersen Jubilee at Odense +('The Story of My Life')</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ANDERSEN_10">'Miserere' in the Sixtine +Chapel ('The Improvisatore')</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ANEURIN">ANEURIN</a> -- Sixth Century</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SLAYING_OF_OWAIN">The Slaying of +Owain</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FATE_OF_HOEL_SON_OF_THE_GREAT_CIAN">The Fate of Hoel, Son of +the Great Cian</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_GIANT_GWRVELING_FALLS_AT_LAST">The +Giant Gwrveling Falls at Last</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ANGLO-SAXON_LITERATURE">ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE</a> (by +Robert Sharp)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_BEOWULF">From 'Beowulf'</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#DEORS_LAMENT">Deor's Lament</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_WANDERER">From 'The +Wanderer'</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SEAFARER">The Seafarer</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FORTUNES_OF_MEN">The Fortunes of +Men</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_JUDITH">From 'Judith'</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FIGHT_AT_MALDON">The Fight at +Maldon</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#CAEDMONS_INSPIRATION">Cædmon's +Inspiration</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_CHRONICLE">From the +'Chronicle'</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#GABRIELE_DANNUNZIO">GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO</a> -- +1864-</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_DROWNED_BOY">The Drowned Boy</a> ('The +Triumph of Death')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#TO_AN_IMPROMPTU_OF_CHOPIN">To an Impromptu +of Chopin</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#INDIA">India</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ANTAR">ANTAR</a> (by Edward S. Holden) -- About +550-615</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_VALOR_OF_ANTAR">The Valor of +Antar</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#LUCIUS_APULEIUS">LUCIUS APULEIUS</a> -- Second +Century</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_TALE_OF_ARISTOMENES_THE_COMMERCIAL_TRAVELER">The Tale of +Aristomenes, the Commercial Traveler</a> ('The Metamorphoses')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_AWAKENING_OF_CUPID">The Awakening of +Cupid</a> (same)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#THOMAS_AQUINAS">THOMAS AQUINAS</a> (by Edwin A. Pace) +-- 1226-1274</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_THE_VALUE_OF_OUR_CONCEPTS_OF_THE_DEITY">On the Value of Our +Concepts of the Deity</a> ('Summa Theologica')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#HOW_CAN_THE_ABSOLUTE_BE_A_CAUSE">How Can +the Absolute Be a Cause?</a> ('Quæstiones +Disputatæ')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_THE_PRODUCTION_OF_LIVING_THINGS">On the +Production of Living Things</a> (same)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#THE_ARABIAN_NIGHTS">THE ARABIAN NIGHTS</a> (by Richard +Gottheil)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_STORY_OF_THE_CITY_OF_BRASS">From +'The Story of the City of Brass'</a> (Lane's Translation)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_HISTORY_OF_KING_OMAR_BEN_ENNUMAN">From 'The History of +King Omar Ben Ennuman, and His Sons Sherkan and Zoulmekan'</a> +(Payne's Translation)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_SINDBAD_THE_SEAMAN_AND_SINDBAD_THE_LANDSMAN">From 'Sindbad +the Seaman and Sindbad the Landsman'</a> (Burton's Translation)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#CONCLUSION_OF_THE_THOUSAND_NIGHTS_AND_A_NIGHT">Conclusion of +'The Thousand Nights and a Night'</a> (Burton's Translation)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ARABIC_LITERATURE">ARABIC LITERATURE</a> (by Richard +Gottheil)</p> +<p class="i2">Imr-al-Kais: <a href="#DESCRIPTION_OF_A_MOUNTAIN_STORM">Description of a Mountain +Storm</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_MU_ALLAKAT_OF_ZUHEIR">Zuhéir: Lament for the +Destruction of his Former Home</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#TARAFAH_IBN_AL_ABD">Tarafah ibn al-'Abd: +Rebuke to a Mischief-Maker</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#LABID">Labîd: Lament for the +Afflictions of his Tribe</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_FAIR_LADY">Antar: A Fair Lady</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_DEATH_OF_ABDALLAH">Duraid, son of +as-Simmah: The Death of 'Abdallâh</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ASH-SHANFARA_OF_AZD">Ash-Shanfarà of +Azd: A Picture of Womanhood</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ZEYNAB_AT_THE_KABAH">'Umar ibn +Rabí'a: Zeynab at the Ka'bah</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_UNVEILED_MAID">'Umar ibn Rabí'a: +The Unveiled Maid</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_DIWAN_OF_AL-NABIGHAH">Al-Nâbighah: Eulogy of the +Men of Ghassân</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#NUSAIB">Nusaib: The Slave-Mother +Sold</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#VENGEANCE">Al-Find: Vengeance</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#PATIENCE">Ibrahim, Son of Kunaif: +Patience</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ABU_SAKHR">Abu Sakhr: A Lost Love</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#AN_ADDRESS_TO_THE_BELOVED">Abu l'Ata of +Sind: An Address to the Beloved</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_FORAY">Ja'far ibn 'Ulbah: A Foray</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FATALITY">Katari ibn al-Fujâ'ah: +Fatality</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#IMPLACABILITY">Al-Fadi ibn al-Abbas: +Implacability</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#PARENTAL_AFFECTION">Hittân ibn +al-Mu'allà: Parental Affection</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_TRIBESMANS_VALOR">Sa'd, son of Malik: A +Tribesman's Valor</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_THE_QURAN">From Sale's +Koran:--Chapter xxxv.: "The Creator";</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#CHAPTER_LV_INTITLED_THE_MERCIFUL_REVEALED_AT_MECCA"> +Chapter lv.: "The Merciful";</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_RENDING_IN_SUNDER">Chapter lxxxiv.: +"The Rending in Sunder"</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_PRAYER_OF_AL-HARIRI">Al-Hariri: His +Prayer</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_WORDS_OF_HARETH_IBN-HAMMAM">Al-Hariri: +The Words of Hareth ibn Hammam</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_CALIPH_OMAR_BIN_ABD_AL-AZIZ_AND_THE_POETS">The Caliph Omar +Bin Abd Al-Aziz and the Poets</a> (From 'Supplemental Nights': +Burton's Translation)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#DOMINIQUE_FRANCOIS_ARAGO">DOMINIQUE FRANÇOIS +ARAGO</a> (by Edward S. Holden) -- 1786-1853</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#LAPLACE">Laplace</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#JOHN_ARBUTHNOT">JOHN ARBUTHNOT</a> -- 1667-1735</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_TRUE_CHARACTERS_OF_JOHN_BULL">The True +Characters of John Bull, Nic. Frog, and Hocus</a> ('The History of +John Bull')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#HOW_THE_RELATIONS_RECONCILED">Reconciliation of John and his +Sister Peg</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#OF_THE_RUDIMENTS_OF_MARTINS_LEARNING">Of +the Rudiments of Martin's Learning</a> ('Memoirs of Martinus +Scriblerus')</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#THE_ARGONAUTIC_LEGEND">THE ARGONAUTIC LEGEND</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_VICTORY_OF_ORPHEUS">The Victory of +Orpheus</a> ('The Life and Death of Jason')</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#LUDOVICO_ARIOSTO">LUDOVICO ARIOSTO</a> (by L. Oscar +Kuhns) -- 1474-1533</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FRIENDSHIP_OF_MEDORO_AND_CLORIDANE">The +Friendship of Medoro and Cloridane</a> ('Orlando Furioso')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SAVING_OF_MEDORO">The Saving of +Medoro</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_MADNESS_OF_ORLANDO">The Madness of +Orlando</a> (same)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ARISTOPHANES">ARISTOPHANES</a> (by Paul Shorey) -- +B.C. 448-390?</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_ORIGIN_OF_THE_PELOPONNESIAN_WAR">Origin +of the Peloponnesian War</a> ('The Acharnians')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_POETS_APOLOGY">The Poet's Apology</a> +(same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_APPEAL_OF_THE_CHORUS">Appeal of the +Chorus</a> ('The Knights')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_CLOUD_CHORUS">Cloud Chorus</a> ('The +Clouds')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_RAINY_DAY_ON_THE_FARM">A Rainy Day on the +Farm</a> ('The Peace')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_HARVEST">The Harvest</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#GRAND_CHORUS_OF_BIRDS">Grand Chorus of +Birds</a> ('The Birds')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_CALL_TO_THE_NIGHTINGALE">Call to the +Nightingale</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_BUILDING_OF_CLOUD-CUCKOO-TOWN">The +Building of Cloud-Cuckoo-Town</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#CHORUS_OF_WOMEN">Chorus of Women</a> +('Thesmophoriazusæ')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#CHORUS_OF_MYSTAE_IN_HADES">Chorus of +Mystæ in Hades</a> ('The Frogs')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_PARODY_OF_EURIPIDESS_LYRIC_VERSE">A +Parody of Euripides' Lyric Verse</a> ('The Frogs')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_PROLOGUES_OF_EURIPIDES">The Prologues +of Euripides</a> (same)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ARISTOTLE">ARISTOTLE</a> (by Thomas Davidson) -- B.C. +384-322</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_NATURE_OF_THE_SOUL">Nature of the +Soul</a> ('On the Soul')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_THE_DIFFERENCE_BETWEEN_HISTORY_AND_POETRY">On the Difference +between History and Poetry</a> ('Poetics')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_PHILOSOPHY">On Philosophy</a> (Cicero's +'Nature of the Gods')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_ESSENCES">On Essences</a> +('Metaphysics')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_COMMUNITY_OF_STUDIES">On Community of +Studies</a> ('Politics')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#HYMN_TO_VIRTUE">Hymn to Virtue</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#JON_ARNASON">JÓN ARNASON</a> -- 1819-1888</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#Icelandic_Legends">From 'Icelandic +Legends':</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_MERMAN">The Merman</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_FISHERMAN_OF_GOTUR">The Fisherman of +Götur</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_MAGIC_SCYTHE">The Magic Scythe</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_MAN-SERVANT_AND_THE_WATER-ELVES">The +Man-Servant and the Water-Elves</a></p> +<p class="i4"><a href="#THE_CROSSWAYS">The Crossways</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ERNST_MORITZ_ARNDT">ERNST MORITZ ARNDT</a> -- +1769-1860</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#WHAT_IS_THE_GERMANS_FATHERLAND">What is +the German's Fatherland?</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SONG_OF_THE_FIELD-MARSHAL">The Song of +the Field-Marshal</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#PATRIOTIC_SONG">Patriotic Song</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#EDWIN_ARNOLD">EDWIN ARNOLD</a> -- 1832-</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_YOUTH_OF_BUDDHA">Youth of Buddha</a> +('The Light of Asia')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_PURE_SACRIFICE_OF_BUDDHA">The Pure +Sacrifice of Buddha</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FAITHFULNESS_OF_YUDHISTHIRA">Faithfulness of Yudhisthira</a> +('The Great Journey')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#HE_AND_SHE">He and She</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#AFTER_DEATH">After Death</a> ('Pearls of +the Faith')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#SOLOMON_AND_THE_ANT">Solomon and the +Ant</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_AFTERNOON">The Afternoon</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_TRUMPET">The Trumpet</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ENVOI_TO_THE_LIGHT_OF_ASIA">Envoi to 'The +Light of Asia'</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#GRISHMA_OR_THE_SEASON_OF_HEAT">Grishma; or +the Season of Heat</a> (Translated from Kalidasa)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#MATTHEW_ARNOLD">MATTHEW ARNOLD</a> (by George Edward +Woodberry) -- 1822-1888</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#INTELLIGENCE_AND_GENIUS">Intelligence and +Genius</a> ('Essays in Criticism')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#SWEETNESS_AND_LIGHT">Sweetness and +Light</a> ('Culture and Anarchy')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#OXFORD">Oxford</a> ('Essays in +Criticism')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#TO_A_FRIEND">To A Friend</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#YOUTH_AND_CALM">Youth and Calm</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ISOLATION">Isolation--To Marguerite</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#STANZAS_IN_MEMORY_OF_THE_AUTHOR_OF_OBERMANN_1849">Stanzas in +Memory of the Author of 'Obermann' (1849)</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#MEMORIAL_VERSES_1850">Memorial Verses +(1850)</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_SICK_KING_IN_BOKHARA">The Sick King in +Bokhara</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#DOVER_BEACH">Dover Beac</a>h</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#SELF-DEPENDENCE">Self-Dependence</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#STANZAS_FROM_THE_GRANDE_CHARTREUSE">Stanzas +from the Grande Chartreuse</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_SUMMER_NIGHT">A Summer Night</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_BETTER_PART">The Better Part</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_LAST_WORD">The Last Word</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#THE_ARTHURIAN_LEGENDS">THE ARTHURIAN LEGENDS</a> (by +Richard Jones)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#FROM_GEOFFREY_OF_MONMOUTHS_HISTORIA_BRITONUM">From Geoffrey of +Monmouth's 'Historia Britonum'</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_HOLY_GRAIL">The Holy Grail (Malory's +'Morte d'Arthur')</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#PETER_CHRISTEN_ASBJORNSEN">PETER CHRISTEN +ASBJÖRNSEN</a> -- 1812-1885</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#GUDBRAND_OF_THE_MOUNTAIN-SIDE">Gudbrand of +the Mountain-Side</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_WIDOWS_SON">The Widow's Son</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ROGER_ASCHAM">ROGER ASCHAM</a> -- 1515-1568</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_GENTLENESS_IN_EDUCATION">On Gentleness +in Education ('The Schoolmaster')</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#ON_STUDY_AND_EXERCISE">On Study and +Exercise ('Toxophilus')</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#ATHENAEUS">ATHENÆUS</a> -- Third Century +B.C.</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#WHY_THE_NILE_OVERFLOWS">Why the Nile +Overflows ('Deipnosophistæ')</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#HOW_TO_PRESERVE_THE_HEALTH">How to Preserve +the Health</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#AN_ACCOUNT_OF_SOME_GREAT_EATERS">An Account +of Some Great Eaters</a> (same)</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_LOVE_OF_ANIMALS_FOR_MAN">The Love of +Animals for Man</a> (same)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#PER_DANIEL_AMADEUS_ATTERBOM">PER DANIEL AMADEUS +ATTERBOM</a> -- 1790-1855</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_GENIUS_OF_THE_NORTH">The Genius of the +North</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_LILY_OF_THE_VALLEY">The Lily of the +Valley</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#SVANHVITS_COLLOQUY">Svanhvit's Colloquy +('The Islands of the Blest')</a></p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_MERMAID">The Mermaid</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLLETE">AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE</a> (by +Frederick Morris Warren) -- Twelfth Century</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#TIS_OF_AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLETTE">'Tis of Aucassin and Nicolette</a></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#JOHN_JAMES_AUDUBON">JOHN JAMES AUDUBON</a> -- +1780-1851</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#A_DANGEROUS_ADVENTURE">A Dangerous +Adventure</a> ('The American Ornithological Biography')</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><a href="#BERTHOLD_AUERBACH">BERTHOLD AUERBACH</a> -- +1812-1882</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_FIRST_MASS">The First Mass</a> ('Ivo +the Gentleman')</p> +<p class="i2"><a href="#THE_PEASANT-NURSE_AND_THE_PRINCE">The +Peasant-Nurse and the Prince</a> ('On the Heights')</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<h2>VOLUME II.</h2> +<br> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td>The Gutenberg Bible (Colored Plate)</td> +<td>Frontispiece</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Lyly's "Euphues" (Fac-simile)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0485.jpg">485</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Hans Christian Andersen (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0500.jpg">500</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>"Haroun al Raschid" (Photogravure)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0622.jpg">622</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Dominique François Arago (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0704.jpg">704</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Ludovico Ariosto (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0742.jpg">742</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Aristotle (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0788.jpg">788</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>Matthew Arnold (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0844.jpg">844</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>"Lancelot Bids Adieu to Elaine" (Photogravure)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0890.jpg">890</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td>John James Audubon (Portrait)</td> +<td><a href="#illus0956.jpg">956</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</center> +<h3>VIGNETTE PORTRAITS</h3> +<center><a href="#ANACREON">Anacreon</a><br> +<a href="#LUCIUS_APULEIUS">Lucius Apuleius</a><br> +<a href="#THOMAS_AQUINAS">Thomas Aquinas</a><br> +<a href="#JOHN_ARBUTHNOT">John Arbuthnot</a><br> +<a href="#ARISTOPHANES">Aristophanes</a><br> +<a href="#ERNST_MORITZ_ARNDT">Ernst Moritz Arndt</a><br> +<a href="#ROGER_ASCHAM">Roger Ascham</a><br> +<a href="#BERTHOLD_AUERBACH">Berthold Auerbach</a></center> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<a name="illus0485.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0485.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0485i.jpg" width="40%" alt= +""></p> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="HENRI_FREDERIC_AMIEL"></a> +<h2>HENRI FRÉDÉRIC AMIEL--(Continued from Volume +I)</h2> +<p>to the storms of air and sea; and while the soul of Mozart seems +to dwell on the ethereal peaks of Olympus, that of Beethoven climbs +shuddering the storm-beaten sides of a Sinai. Blessed be they both! +Each represents a moment of the ideal life, each does us good. Our +love is due to both.</p> +<a name="P1_01"></a> +<p>Self-interest is but the survival of the animal in us. Humanity +only begins for man with self-surrender.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_02"></a> +<p>MAY 27TH, 1857.--Wagner's is a powerful mind endowed with strong +poetical sensitiveness. His work is even more poetical than +musical. The suppression of the lyrical element, and therefore of +melody, is with him a systematic <i>parti pris.</i> No more duos or +trios; monologue and the aria are alike done away with. There +remains only declamation, the recitative, and the choruses. In +order to avoid the conventional in singing, Wagner falls into +another convention,--that of not singing at all. He subordinates +the voice to articulate speech, and for fear lest the muse should +take flight he clips her wings; so that his works are rather +symphonic dramas than operas. The voice is brought down to the rank +of an instrument, put on a level with the violins, the hautboys, +and the drums, and treated instrumentally. Man is deposed from his +superior position, and the centre of gravity of the work passes +into the baton of the conductor. It is music +depersonalized,--neo-Hegelian music,--music multiple instead of +individual. If this is so, it is indeed the music of the +future,--the music of the socialist democracy replacing the art +which is aristocratic, heroic, or subjective.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_03"></a> +<p>DECEMBER 4TH, 1863.--The whole secret of remaining young in +spite of years, and even of gray hairs, is to cherish enthusiasm in +one's self, by poetry, by contemplation, by charity,--that is, in +fewer words, by the maintenance of harmony in the soul.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_04"></a> +<p>APRIL 12TH, 1858.--The era of equality means the triumph of +mediocrity. It is disappointing, but inevitable; for it is one of +time's revenges.... Art no doubt will lose, but justice will gain. +Is not universal leveling down the law of nature?... The world is +striving with all its force for the destruction of what it has +itself brought forth!</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_05"></a> +<p>MARCH 1ST, 1869.--From the point of view of the ideal, humanity +is <i>triste</i> and ugly. But if we compare it with its probable +origins, we see that the human race has not altogether wasted its +time. Hence there are three possible views of history: the view of +the pessimist, who starts from the ideal; the view of the optimist, +who compares the past with the present; and the view of the +hero-worshiper, who sees that all progress whatever has cost oceans +of blood and tears.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_06"></a> +<p>AUGUST 31ST, 1869.--I have finished Schopenhauer. My mind has +been a tumult of opposing systems,--Stoicism, Quietism, Buddhism, +Christianity. Shall I never be at peace with myself? If +impersonality is a good, why am I not consistent in the pursuit of +it? and if it is a temptation, why return to it, after having +judged and conquered it?</p> +<p>Is happiness anything more than a conventional fiction? The +deepest reason for my state of doubt is that the supreme end and +aim of life seems to me a mere lure and deception. The individual +is an eternal dupe, who never obtains what he seeks, and who is +forever deceived by hope. My instinct is in harmony with the +pessimism of Buddha and of Schopenhauer. It is a doubt which never +leaves me, even in my moments of religious fervor. Nature is indeed +for me a Maïa; and I look at her, as it were, with the eyes of +an artist. My intelligence remains skeptical. What, then, do I +believe in? I do not know. And what is it I hope for? It would be +difficult to say. Folly! I believe in goodness, and I hope that +good will prevail. Deep within this ironical and disappointed being +of mine there is a child hidden--a frank, sad, simple creature, who +believes in the ideal, in love, in holiness, and all heavenly +superstitions. A whole millennium of idyls sleeps in my heart; I am +a pseudo-skeptic, a pseudo-scoffer.</p> +"Borne dans sa nature, infini dans ses voeux,<br> +L'homme est un dieu tombé qui se souvient des cieux."<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_07"></a> +<p>MARCH 17TH, 1870.--This morning the music of a brass band which +had stopped under my windows moved me almost to tears. It exercised +an indefinable, nostalgic power over me; it set me dreaming of +another world, of infinite passion and supreme happiness. Such +impressions are the echoes of Paradise in the soul; memories of +ideal spheres whose sad sweetness ravishes and intoxicates the +heart. O Plato! O Pythagoras! ages ago you heard these harmonies, +surprised these moments of inward ecstasy,--knew these divine +transports! If music thus carries us to heaven, it is because music +is harmony, harmony is perfection, perfection is our dream, and our +dream is heaven.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_08"></a> +<p>APRIL 1ST, 1870.--I am inclined to believe that for a woman love +is the supreme authority,--that which judges the rest and decides +what is good or evil. For a man, love is subordinate to right. It +is a great passion, but it is not the source of order, the synonym +of reason, the criterion of excellence. It would seem, then, that a +woman places her ideal in the perfection of love, and a man in the +perfection of justice.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_09"></a> +<p>JUNE 5TH, 1870.--The efficacy of religion lies precisely in that +which is not rational, philosophic, nor eternal; its efficacy lies +in the unforeseen, the miraculous, the extraordinary. Thus religion +attracts more devotion in proportion as it demands more +faith,--that is to say, as it becomes more incredible to the +profane mind. The philosopher aspires to explain away all +mysteries, to dissolve them into light. It is mystery, on the other +hand, which the religious instinct demands and pursues: it is +mystery which constitutes the essence of worship, the power of +proselytism. When the cross became the "foolishness" of the cross, +it took possession of the masses. And in our own day, those who +wish to get rid of the supernatural, to enlighten religion, to +economize faith, find themselves deserted, like poets who should +declaim against poetry, or women who should decry love. Faith +consists in the acceptance of the incomprehensible, and even in the +pursuit of the impossible, and is self-intoxicated with its own +sacrifices, its own repeated extravagances.</p> +<p>It is the forgetfulness of this psychological law which +stultifies the so-called liberal Christianity. It is the +realization of it which constitutes the strength of +Catholicism.</p> +<p>Apparently, no positive religion can survive the supernatural +element which is the reason for its existence. Natural religion +seems to be the tomb of all historic cults. All concrete religions +die eventually in the pure air of philosophy. So long then as the +life of nations is in need of religion as a motive and sanction of +morality, as food for faith, hope, and charity, so long will the +masses turn away from pure reason and naked truth, so long will +they adore mystery, so long--and rightly so--will they rest in +faith, the only region where the ideal presents itself to them in +an attractive form.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_10"></a> +<p>OCTOBER 26TH, 1870.--If ignorance and passion are the foes of +popular morality, it must be confessed that moral indifference is +the malady of the cultivated classes. The modern separation of +enlightenment and virtue, of thought and conscience, of the +intellectual aristocracy from the honest and vulgar crowd, is the +greatest danger that can threaten liberty. When any society +produces an increasing number of literary exquisites, of satirists, +skeptics, and <i>beaux esprits</i>, some chemical disorganization +of fabric may be inferred. Take, for example, the century of +Augustus and that of Louis XV. Our cynics and railers are mere +egotists, who stand aloof from the common duty, and in their +indolent remoteness are of no service to society against any ill +which may attack it. Their cultivation consists in having got rid +of feeling. And thus they fall farther and farther away from true +humanity, and approach nearer to the demoniacal nature. What was it +that Mephistopheles lacked? Not intelligence, certainly, but +goodness.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_11"></a> +<p>DECEMBER 11TH, 1875.--The ideal which the wife and mother makes +for herself, the manner in which she understands duty and life, +contain the fate of the community. Her faith becomes the star of +the conjugal ship, and her love the animating principle that +fashions the future of all belonging to her. Woman is the salvation +or destruction of the family. She carries its destinies in the +folds of her mantle.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_12"></a> +<p>JANUARY 22D, 1875.--The thirst for truth is not a French +passion. In everything appearance is preferred to reality, the +outside to the inside, the fashion to the material, that which +shines to that which profits, opinion to conscience. That is to +say, the Frenchman's centre of gravity is always outside him,--he +is always thinking of others, playing to the gallery. To him +individuals are so many zeros: the unit which turns them into a +number must be added from outside; it may be royalty, the writer of +the day, the favorite newspaper, or any other temporary master of +fashion.--All this is probably the result of an exaggerated +sociability, which weakens the soul's forces of resistance, +destroys its capacity for investigation and personal conviction, +and kills in it the worship of the ideal.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_13"></a> +<p>DECEMBER 9TH, 1877.--The modern haunters of Parnassus carve urns +of agate and of onyx; but inside the urns what is there?--Ashes. +Their work lacks feeling, seriousness, sincerity, and pathos--in a +word, soul and moral life. I cannot bring myself to sympathize with +such a way of understanding poetry. The talent shown is +astonishing, but stuff and matter are wanting. It is an effort of +the imagination to stand alone--substitute for everything else. We +find metaphors, rhymes, music, color, but not man, not humanity. +Poetry of this factitious kind may beguile one at twenty, but what +can one make of it at fifty? It reminds me of Pergamos, of +Alexandria, of all the epochs of decadence when beauty of form hid +poverty of thought and exhaustion of feeling. I strongly share the +repugnance which this poetical school arouses in simple people. It +is as though it only cared to please the world-worn, the +over-subtle, the corrupted, while it ignores all normal healthy +life, virtuous habits, pure affections, steady labor, honesty, and +duty. It is an affectation, and because it is an affectation the +school is struck with sterility. The reader desires in the poem +something better than a juggler in rhyme, or a conjurer in verse; +he looks 'to find in him a painter of life, a being who thinks, +loves, and has a conscience, who feels passion and repentance.</p> +<a name="P1_16"></a> +<p>The true critic strives for a clear vision of things as they +are--for justice and fairness; his effort is to get free from +himself, so that he may in no way disfigure that which he wishes to +understand or reproduce. His superiority to the common herd lies in +this effort, even when its success is only partial. He distrusts +his own senses, he sifts his own impressions, by returning upon +them from different sides and at different times, by comparing, +moderating, shading, distinguishing, and so endeavoring to approach +more and more nearly to the formula which represents the maximum of +truth.</p> +<a name="P1_15"></a> +<p>The art which is grand and yet simple is that which presupposes +the greatest elevation both in artist and in public.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_14"></a> +<p>MAY 19TH, 1878.--Criticism is above all a gift, an intuition, a +matter of tact and <i>flair</i>; it cannot be taught or +demonstrated,--it is an art. Critical genius means an aptitude for +discerning truth under appearances or in disguises which conceal +it; for discovering it in spite of the errors of testimony, the +frauds of tradition, the dust of time, the loss or alteration of +texts. It is the sagacity of the hunter whom nothing deceives for +long, and whom no ruse can throw off the trail. It is the talent of +the <i>Juge d'Instruction</i> who knows how to interrogate +circumstances, and to extract an unknown secret from a thousand +falsehoods. The true critic can understand everything, but he will +be the dupe of nothing, and to no convention will he sacrifice his +duty, which is to find out and proclaim truth. Competent learning, +general cultivation, absolute probity, accuracy of general view, +human sympathy, and technical capacity,--how many things are +necessary to the critic, without reckoning grace, delicacy, +<i>savoir vivre</i>, and the gift of happy phrasemaking!</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_17"></a> +<p>MAY 22D, 1879 (Ascension Day).--Wonderful and delicious weather. +Soft, caressing sunlight,--the air a limpid blue,--twitterings of +birds; even the distant voices of the city have something young and +springlike in them. It is indeed a new birth. The ascension of the +Savior of men is symbolized by the expansion, this heavenward +yearning of nature.... I feel myself born again; all the windows of +the soul are clear. Forms, lines, tints, reflections, sounds, +contrasts, and harmonies, the general play and interchange of +things,--it is all enchanting!</p> +<p>In my courtyard the ivy is green again, the chestnut-tree is +full of leaf, the Persian lilac beside the little fountain is +flushed with red and just about to flower; through the wide +openings to the right and left of the old College of Calvin I see +the Salève above the trees of St. Antoine, the Voirons above +the hill of Cologny; while the three flights of steps which, from +landing to landing, lead between two high walls from the Rue +Verdaine to the terrace of the Tranchées, recall to one's +imagination some old city of the south, a glimpse of Perugia or of +Malaga.</p> +<p>All the bells are ringing. It is the hour of worship. A +historical and religious impression mingles with the picturesque, +the musical, the poetical impressions of the scene. All the peoples +of Christendom--all the churches scattered over the globe--are +celebrating at this moment the glory of the Crucified.</p> +<p>And what are those many nations doing who have other prophets, +and honor the Divinity in other ways--the Jews, the Mussulmans, the +Buddhists, the Vishnuists, the Guebers? They have other sacred +days, other rites, other solemnities, other beliefs. But all have +some religion, some ideal end for life--all aim at raising man +above the sorrows and smallnesses of the present, and of the +individual existence. All have faith in something greater than +themselves, all pray, all bow, all adore; all see beyond nature, +Spirit, and beyond evil, Good. All bear witness to the Invisible. +Here we have the link which binds all peoples together. All men are +equally creatures of sorrow and desire, of hope and fear. All long +to recover some lost harmony with the great order of things, and to +feel themselves approved and blessed by the Author of the universe. +All know what suffering is, and yearn for happiness. All know what +sin is, and feel the need of pardon.</p> +<p>Christianity, reduced to its original simplicity, is the +reconciliation of the sinner with God, by means of the certainty +that God loves in spite of everything, and that he chastises +because he loves. Christianity furnished a new motive and a new +strength for the achievement of moral perfection. It made holiness +attractive by giving to it the air of filial gratitude.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_18"></a> +<p>JULY 28TH, 1880.--This afternoon I have had a walk in the +sunshine, and have just come back rejoicing in a renewed communion +with nature. The waters of the Rhone and the Arve, the murmur of +the river, the austerity of its banks, the brilliancy of the +foliage, the play of the leaves, the splendor of the July sunlight, +the rich fertility of the fields, the lucidity of the distant +mountains, the whiteness of the glaciers under the azure serenity +of the sky, the sparkle and foam of the mingling rivers, the leafy +masses of the La Bâtie woods,--all and everything delighted +me. It seemed to me as though the years of strength had come back +to me. I was overwhelmed with sensations. I was surprised and +grateful. The universal life carried me on its breast; the summer's +caress went to my heart. Once more my eyes beheld the vast +horizons, the soaring peaks, the blue lakes, the winding valleys, +and all the free outlets of old days. And yet there was no painful +sense of longing. The scene left upon me an indefinable impression, +which was neither hope, nor desire, nor regret, but rather a sense +of emotion, of passionate impulse, mingled with admiration and +anxiety. I am conscious at once of joy and of want; beyond what I +possess I see the impossible and the unattainable; I gauge my own +wealth and poverty: in a word, I am and I am not--my inner state is +one of contradiction, because it is one of transition.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<a name="P1_19"></a> +<p>APRIL 1OTH, 1881 [he died May 11th].--What dupes we are of our +own desires!... Destiny has two ways of crushing us--by refusing +our wishes and by fulfilling them. But he who only wills what God +wills escapes both catastrophes. "All things work together for his +good."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ANACREON"></a>ANACREON</h2> +<h3>(B.C. 562?-477)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-o.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>f the life of this lyric poet we have little exact knowledge. We +know that he was an Ionian Greek, and therefore by racial type a +luxury-loving, music-loving Greek, born in the city of Teos on the +coast of Asia Minor. The year was probably B.C. 562. With a few +fellow-citizens, it is supposed that he fled to Thrace and founded +Abdera when Cyrus the Great, or his general Harpagus, was +conquering the Greek cities of the coast. Abdera, however, was too +new to afford luxurious living, and the singing Ionian soon found +his way to more genial Samos, whither the fortunes of the world +then seemed converging. Polycrates was "tyrant," in the old Greek +sense of irresponsible ruler; but withal so large-minded and +far-sighted a man that we may use a trite comparison and say that +under him his island was, to the rest of Greece, as Florence in the +time of Lorenzo the Magnificent was to the rest of Italy, or Athens +in the time of Pericles to the other Hellenic States. Anacreon +became his tutor, and may have been of his council; for Herodotus +says that when Oroetes went to see Polycrates he found him in the +men's apartment with Anacreon the Teian. Another historian says +that he tempered the stern will of the ruler. Still another relates +that Polycrates once presented him with five talents, but that the +poet returned the sum after two nights made sleepless from thinking +what he would do with his riches, saying "it was not worth the care +it cost."</p> +<p class="lft"><img src="images/image-024.png" width="45%" alt= +""><br> +<b>ANACREON</b></p> +<p>After the murder of Polycrates, Hipparchus, who ruled at Athens, +sent a trireme to fetch the poet. Like his father Pisistratus, +Hipparchus endeavored to further the cause of letters by calling +poets to his court. Simonides of Ceos was there; and Lasus of +Hermione, the teacher of Pindar; with many rhapsodists or +minstrels, who edited the poems of Homer and chanted his lays at +the Panathenæa, or high festival of Athena, which the people +celebrated every year with devout and magnificent show. Amid this +brilliant company Anacreon lived and sang until Hipparchus fell +(514) by the famous conspiracy of Harmodius and Aristogeiton. He +then returned to his native Teos, and according to a legend, died +there at the age of eighty-five, choked by a grape-seed.</p> +<p>Anacreon was a lyrist of the first order. Plato's poet says of +him in the 'Symposium,' "When I hear the verses of Sappho or +Anacreon, I set down my cup for very shame of my own performance." +He composed in Greek somewhat, to use a very free comparison, as +Herrick did in English, expressing the unrefined passion and +excesses which he saw, just as the Devonshire parson preserved the +spirit of the country festivals of Old England in his vivid +verse.</p> +<p>To Anacreon music and poetry were inseparable. The poet of his +time recited his lines with lyre in hand, striking upon it in the +measure he thought best suited to his song. Doubtless the poems of +Anacreon were delivered in this way. His themes were simple,--wine, +love, and the glorification of youth and poetry; but his +imagination and poetic invention so animated every theme that it is +the perfect rendering which we see, not the simplicity of the +commonplace idea. His delicacy preserves him from grossness, and +his grace from wantonness. In this respect his poems are a fair +illustration of the Greek sense of self-limitation, which guided +the art instincts of that people and made them the creators of +permanent canons of taste.</p> +<p>Anacreon had no politics, no earnest interest in the affairs of +life, no morals in the large meaning of that word, no aims reaching +further than the merriment and grace of the moment. Loving luxury +and leisure, he was the follower of a pleasure-loving court. His +cares are that the bowl is empty, that age is joyless, that women +tell him he is growing gray. He is closely paralleled in this by +one side of Béranger; but the Frenchman's soul had a +passionately earnest half which the Greek entirely lacked. Nor is +there ever any outbreak of the deep yearning, the underlying +melancholy, which pervades and now and then interrupts, like a +skeleton at the feast, the gayest verses of Omar Khayyam.</p> +<p>His metres, like his matter, are simple and easy. So imitators, +perhaps as brilliant as the master, have sprung up and produced a +mass of songs; and at this time it remains in doubt whether any +complete poem of Anacreon remains untouched. For this reason the +collection is commonly termed 'Anacreontics'. Some of the poems are +referred to the school of Gaza and the fourth century after Christ, +and some to the secular teachings and refinement of the monks of +the Middle Ages. Since the discovery and publication of the text by +Henry Stephens, in 1554, poets have indulged their lighter fancies +in such songs, and a small literature of delicate trifles now +exists under the name of 'Anacreontics' in Italian, German, and +English. Bergk's recension of the poems appeared in 1878. The +standard translations, or rather imitations in English, are those +of Cowley and Moore. The Irish poet was not unlike in nature to the +ancient Ionian. Moore's fine voice in the London drawing-rooms +echoes at times the note of Anacreon in the men's quarters of +Polycrates or the symposia of Hipparchus. The joy of feasting and +music, the color of wine, and the scent of roses, alike inspire the +songs of each.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="DRINKING1"></a>DRINKING</p> +<blockquote>The thirsty earth soaks up the rain,<br> +And drinks, and gapes for drink again,<br> +The plants suck in the earth, and are<br> +With constant drinking fresh and fair;<br> +The sea itself (which one would think<br> +Should have but little need of drink)<br> +Drinks twice ten thousand rivers up,<br> +So filled that they o'erflow the cup.<br> +The busy Sun (and one would guess<br> +By 's drunken fiery face no less)<br> +Drinks up the sea, and, when he's done,<br> +The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun:<br> +They drink and dance by their own light;<br> +They drink and revel all the night.<br> +Nothing in nature's sober found,<br> +But an eternal health goes round.<br> +Fill up the bowl then, fill it high,<br> +Fill all the glasses there; for why<br> +Should every creature drink but I?<br> +Why, man of morals, tell me why?</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading">--Cowley's Translation.</p> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="AGE"></a>AGE</p> +<blockquote>Oft am I by the women told,<br> +Poor Anacreon, thou grow'st old!<br> +Look how thy hairs are falling all;<br> +Poor Anacreon, how they fall!<br> +Whether I grow old or no,<br> +By th' effects I do not know;<br> +This I know, without being told,<br> +'Tis time to live, if I grow old;<br> +'Tis time short pleasures now to take,<br> +Of little life the best to make,<br> +And manage wisely the last stake.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Cowley's Translation.</p> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_EPICURE"></a>THE EPICURE</p> +<br> +<p class="heading">I</p> +<blockquote>Fill the bowl with rosy wine!<br> +Around our temples roses twine!<br> +And let us cheerfully awhile,<br> +Like the wine and roses, smile.<br> +Crowned with roses, we contemn<br> +Gyges' wealthy diadem.<br> +To-day is ours, what do we fear?<br> +To-day is ours; we have it here:<br> +Let's treat it kindly, that it may<br> +Wish, at least, with us to stay.<br> +Let's banish business, banish sorrow;<br> +To the gods belongs to-morrow.</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading">II</p> +<blockquote>Underneath this myrtle shade,<br> +On flowery beds supinely laid,<br> +With odorous oils my head o'erflowing,<br> +And around it roses growing,<br> +What should I do but drink away<br> +The heat and troubles of the day?<br> +In this more than kingly state<br> +Love himself shall on me wait.<br> +Fill to me, Love, nay fill it up;<br> +And, mingled, cast into the cup<br> +Wit, and mirth, and noble fires,<br> +Vigorous health, and gay desires.<br> +The wheel of life no less will stay<br> +In a smooth than rugged way:<br> +Since it equally doth flee,<br> +Let the motion pleasant be.<br> +Why do we precious ointments show'r?<br> +Noble wines why do we pour?<br> +Beauteous flowers why do we spread,<br> +Upon the monuments of the dead?<br> +Nothing they but dust can show,<br> +Or bones that hasten to be so.<br> +Crown me with roses while I live,<br> +Now your wines and ointments give<br> +After death I nothing crave;<br> +Let me alive my pleasures have,<br> +All are Stoics in the grave.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Cowley's Translation.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="GOLD"></a>GOLD</p> +<blockquote>A mighty pain to love it is,<br> +And 'tis a pain that pain to miss;<br> +But, of all pains, the greatest pain<br> +It is to love, but love in vain.<br> +Virtue now, nor noble blood,<br> +Nor wit by love is understood;<br> +Gold alone does passion move,<br> +Gold monopolizes love;<br> +A curse on her, and on the man<br> +Who this traffic first began!<br> +A curse on him who found the ore!<br> +A curse on him who digged the store!<br> +A curse on him who did refine it!<br> +A curse on him who first did coin it!<br> +A curse, all curses else above,<br> +On him who used it first in love!<br> +Gold begets in brethren hate;<br> +Gold in families debate;<br> +Gold does friendship separate;<br> +Gold does civil wars create.<br> +These the smallest harms of it!<br> +Gold, alas! does love beget.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Cowley's Translation.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_GRASSHOPPER"></a>THE +GRASSHOPPER</p> +<blockquote>Happy Insect! what can be<br> +In happiness compared to thee?<br> +Fed with nourishment divine,<br> +The dewy Morning's gentle wine!<br> +Nature waits upon thee still,<br> +And thy verdant cup does fill;<br> +'Tis filled wherever thou dost tread,<br> +Nature's self's thy Ganymede.<br> +Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing;<br> +Happier than the happiest king!<br> +All the fields which thou dost see,<br> +All the plants, belong to thee;<br> +All that summer hours produce,<br> +Fertile made with early juice.<br> +Man for thee does sow and plow;<br> +Farmer he, and landlord thou!<br> +Thou dost innocently joy;<br> +Nor does thy luxury destroy;<br> +The shepherd gladly heareth thee,<br> +More harmonious than he.<br> +Thee country hinds with gladness hear,<br> +Prophet of the ripened year!<br> +Thee Phoebus loves, and does inspire;<br> +Phoebus is himself thy sire.<br> +To thee, of all things upon Earth,<br> +Life's no longer than thy mirth.<br> +Happy insect, happy thou!<br> +Dost neither age nor winter know;<br> +But, when thou'st drunk, and danced, and sung<br> +Thy fill, the flowery leaves among,<br> +(Voluptuous, and wise withal,<br> +Epicurean animal!)<br> +Sated with thy summer feast,<br> +Thou retir'st to endless rest.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Cowley's Translation,</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_SWALLOW"></a>THE SWALLOW</p> +<blockquote>Foolish prater, what dost thou<br> +So early at my window do,<br> +With thy tuneless serenade?<br> +Well 't had been had Tereus made<br> +Thee as dumb as Philomel;<br> +There his knife had done but well.<br> +In thy undiscovered nest<br> +Thou dost all the winter rest,<br> +And dreamest o'er thy summer joys,<br> +Free from the stormy season's noise:<br> +Free from th' ill thou'st done to me;<br> +Who disturbs or seeks out thee?<br> +Hadst thou all the charming notes<br> +Of the wood's poetic throats,<br> +All thou art could never pay<br> +What thou hast ta'en from me away.<br> +Cruel bird! thou'st ta'en away<br> +A dream out of my arms to-day;<br> +A dream that ne'er must equaled be<br> +By all that waking eyes may see.<br> +Thou, this damage to repair,<br> +Nothing half so sweet or fair,<br> +Nothing half so good, canst bring,<br> +Though men say thou bring'st the Spring.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Cowley's Translation.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_POETS_CHOICE"></a>THE POET'S +CHOICE</p> +<blockquote>If hoarded gold possessed a power<br> +To lengthen life's too fleeting hour,<br> +And purchase from the hand of death<br> +A little span, a moment's breath,<br> +How I would love the precious ore!<br> +And every day should swell my store;<br> +That when the fates would send their minion,<br> +To waft me off on shadowy pinion,<br> +I might some hours of life obtain,<br> +And bribe him back to hell again.<br> +But since we ne'er can charm away<br> +The mandate of that awful day,<br> +Why do we vainly weep at fate,<br> +And sigh for life's uncertain date?<br> +The light of gold can ne'er illume<br> +The dreary midnight of the tomb!<br> +And why should I then pant for treasures?<br> +Mine be the brilliant round of pleasures;<br> +The goblet rich, the hoard of friends,<br> +Whose flowing souls the goblet blends!</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Moore's Translation.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="DRINKING2"></a>DRINKING</p> +<blockquote>I care not for the idle state<br> +Of Persia's king, the rich, the great!<br> +I envy not the monarch's throne,<br> +Nor wish the treasured gold my own.<br> +But oh! be mine the rosy braid,<br> +The fervor of my brows to shade;<br> +Be mine the odors, richly sighing,<br> +Amid my hoary tresses flying.<br> +To-day I'll haste to quaff my wine,<br> +As if to-morrow ne'er should shine;<br> +But if to-morrow comes, why then--<br> +I'll haste to quaff my wine again.<br> +And thus while all our days are bright,<br> +Nor time has dimmed their bloomy light,<br> +Let us the festal hours beguile<br> +With mantling cup and cordial smile;<br> +And shed from every bowl of wine<br> +The richest drop on Bacchus's shrine!<br> +For Death may come, with brow unpleasant,<br> +May come when least we wish him present,<br> +And beckon to the sable shore,<br> +And grimly bid us--drink no more!</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Moore's Translation.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_LOVERS_SIGH"></a>A LOVER'S SIGH</p> +<blockquote>The Phrygian rock that braves the storm<br> +Was once a weeping matron's form;<br> +And Procne, hapless, frantic maid,<br> +Is now a swallow in the shade.<br> +Oh that a mirror's form were mine,<br> +To sparkle with that smile divine;<br> +And like my heart I then should be,<br> +Reflecting thee, and only thee!<br> +Or could I be the robe which holds<br> +That graceful form within its folds;<br> +Or, turned into a fountain, lave<br> +Thy beauties in my circling wave;<br> +Or, better still, the zone that lies<br> +Warm to thy breast, and feels its sighs!<br> +Or like those envious pearls that show<br> +So faintly round that neck of snow!<br> +Yes, I would be a happy gem,<br> +Like them to hang, to fade like them.<br> +What more would thy Anacreon be?<br> +Oh, anything that touches thee,<br> +Nay, sandals for those airy feet--<br> +Thus to be pressed by thee were sweet!</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Moore's Translation.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="HANS_CHRISTIAN_ANDERSEN"></a>HANS CHRISTIAN +ANDERSEN</h2> +<h3>(1805-1875)</h3> +<h3>BY BENJAMIN W. WELLS</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he place of Hans Christian Andersen in literature is that of the +"Children's Poet," though his best poetry is prose. He was born in +the ancient Danish city of Odense, on April 2d, 1805, of poor and +shiftless parents. He had little regular instruction, and few +childish associates. His youthful imagination was first stimulated +by La Fontaine's 'Fables' and the 'Arabian Nights,' and he showed +very early a dramatic instinct, trying to act and even to imitate +Shakespeare, though, as he says, "hardly able to spell a single +word correctly." It was therefore natural that the visit of a +dramatic company to Odense, in 1818, should fire his fancy to seek +his theatrical fortune in Copenhagen; whither he went in September, +1819, with fifteen dollars in his pocket and a letter of +introduction to a danseuse at the Royal Theatre, who not +unnaturally took her strange visitor for a lunatic, and showed him +the door. For four years he labored diligently, suffered acutely, +and produced nothing of value; though he gained some influential +friends, who persuaded the king to grant him a scholarship for +three years, that he might prepare for the university.</p> +<p>Though he was neither a brilliant nor a docile pupil, he did not +exhaust the generous patience of his friends, who in 1829 enabled +him to publish by subscription his first book, 'A Journey on Foot +from Holm Canal to the East Point of Amager' a fantastic arabesque, +partly plagiarized and partly parodied from the German +romanticists, but with a naïveté that might have +disarmed criticism.</p> +<p>In 1831 there followed a volume of poems, the sentimental and +rather mawkish 'Fantasies and Sketches,' product of a journey in +Jutland and of a silly love affair. This book was so harshly +criticized that he resolved to seek a refuge and new literary +inspiration in a tour to Germany; for all through his life, +traveling was Andersen's stimulus and distraction, so that he +compares himself, later, to a pendulum "bound to go backward and +forward, tic, toc, tic, toc, till the clock stops, and down I +lie."</p> +<a name="illus0500.jpg"></a><br> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0500.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>This German tour inspired his first worthy book, 'Silhouettes,' +with some really admirable pages of description. His success +encouraged him to attempt the drama again, where he failed once +more, and betook himself for relief to Paris and Italy, with a +brief stay in the Jura Mountains, which is delightfully described +in his novel, 'O.T.'</p> +<p>Italy had on him much the same clarifying effect that it had on +Goethe; and his next book, the novel 'Improvisatore' (1835), +achieved and deserved a European recognition. Within ten years the +book was translated into six languages. It bears the mark of its +date in its romantic sentiments. There is indeed no firm +character-drawing, here or in any of his novels; but the book still +claims attention for its exquisite descriptions of Italian life and +scenery.</p> +<p>The year 1835 saw also Andersen's first essay in the 'Wonder +Stories' which were to give him his lasting title to grateful +remembrance. He did not think highly of this work at the time, +though his little volume contained the now-classic 'Tinderbox,' and +'Big Claus and Little Claus.' Indeed, he always chafed a little at +the modest fame of a writer for children; but he continued for +thirty-seven years to publish those graceful fancies, which in +their little domain still hold the first rank, and certainly gave +the freest scope to Andersen's qualities, while they masked his +faults and limitations.</p> +<p>He turned again from this "sleight of hand with Fancy's golden +apples," to the novel, in the 'O.T.' (1836), which marks no advance +on the 'Improvisatore'; and in the next year he published his best +romance, 'Only a Fiddler,' which is still charming for its +autobiographical touches, its genuine humor, and its deep pathos. +At the time, this book assured his European reputation; though it +has less interest for us to-day than the 'Tales,' or the 'Picture +Book without Pictures' (1840), where, perhaps more than anywhere +else in his work, the child speaks with all the naïveté +of his nature.</p> +<p>A journey to the East was reflected in 'A Poet's Bazaar' (1842); +and these years contain also his last unsuccessful dramatic +efforts, 'The King Dreams' and 'The New Lying-in Room.' In 1843 he +was in Paris, in 1844 in Germany, and in the next year he extended +his wanderings to Italy and England, where Mary Howitt's +translations had assured him a welcome. Ten years later he +revisited England as the guest of Dickens at Gadshill.</p> +<p>The failure of an epic, 'Ahasuerus' (1847), and of a novel, 'The +Two Baronesses' (1849), made him turn with more interest to wonder +tales and fairy dramas, which won a considerable success; and when +the political troubles of 1848 directed his wanderings toward +Sweden, he made from them 'I Sverrig' (In Sweden: 1849), his most +exquisite book of travels. As Europe grew peaceful again he resumed +his indefatigable wanderings, visiting Germany, France, Italy, +Switzerland, Spain, Bohemia, and England; printing between 1852 and +1862 nine little volumes of stories, the mediocre but successful +'In Spain' (1860), and his last novel, 'To Be or Not To Be' (1857), +which reflects the religious speculations of his later years.</p> +<p>He was now in comparatively easy circumstances, and passed the +last fifteen years of his life unharassed by criticism, and +surrounded with the 'honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,' +that should accompany old age. It was not until 1866 that he made +himself a home; and even at sixty-one he said the idea 'positively +frightened him--he knew he should run away from it as soon as ever +the first warm sunbeam struck him, like any other bird of +passage.'</p> +<p>In 1869 he celebrated his literary jubilee. In 1872 he finished +his last 'Stories.' That year he met with an accident in Innsbruck +from which he never recovered. Kind friends eased his invalid +years; and so general was the grief at his illness that the +children of the United States collected a sum of money for his +supposed necessities, which at his request took the form of books +for his library. A few months later, after a brief and painless +illness, he died, August 1st, 1875. His admirers had already +erected a statue in his honor, and the State gave him a magnificent +funeral; but his most enduring monument is that which his 'Wonder +Tales' are still building all around the world.</p> +<p>The character of Andersen is full of curious contrasts. Like the +French fabulist, La Fontaine, he was a child all his life, and +often a spoiled child; yet he joined to childlike simplicity no +small share of worldly wisdom. Constant travel made him a shrewd +observer of detail, but his self-absorption kept him from sympathy +with the broad political aspirations of his generation.</p> +<p>In the judgment of his friends and critics, his autobiographical +'Story of My Life' is strangely unjust, and he never understood the +limitations of his genius. He was not fond of children, nor +personally attractive to them, though his letters to them are +charming.</p> +<p>In personal appearance he was limp, ungainly, awkward, and odd, +with long lean limbs, broad flat hands, and feet of striking size. +His eyes were small and deep-set, his nose very large, his neck +very long; but he masked his defects by studied care in dress, and +always fancied he looked distinguished, delighting to display his +numerous decorations on his evening dress in complacent +profusion.</p> +<p>On Andersen's style there is a remarkably acute study by his +fellow-countryman Brandes, in 'Kritiker og Portraite' (Critiques +and Portraits), and a useful comment in Boyesen's 'Scandinavian +Literature.' When not perverted by his translators, it is perhaps +better suited than any other to the comprehension of children. His +syntax and rhetoric are often faulty; and in the 'Tales' he does +not hesitate to take liberties even with German, if he can but +catch the vivid, darting imagery of juvenile fancy, the "ohs" and +"ahs" of the nursery, its changing intonations, its fears, its +smiles, its personal appeals, and its venerable devices to spur +attention and kindle sympathy. Action, or imitation, takes the +place of description. We hear the trumpeter's <i>taratantara</i> +and "the pattering rain on the leaves, <i>rum dum dum, rum dum +dum</i>," The soldier "comes marching along, <i>left, right, left, +right</i>." No one puts himself so wholly in the child's place and +looks at nature so wholly with his eyes as Andersen. "If you hold +one of those burdock leaves before your little body it's just like +an apron, and if you put it on your head it's almost as good as an +umbrella, it's so big." Or he tells you that when the sun shone on +the flax, and the clouds watered it, "it was just as nice for it as +it is for the little children to be washed and then get a kiss from +mother: that makes them prettier; of course it does." And here, as +Brandes remarks, every right-minded mamma stops and kisses the +child, and their hearts are warmer for that day's tale.</p> +<p>The starting-point of this art is personification. To the +child's fancy the doll is as much alive as the cat, the broom as +the bird, and even the letters in the copy-book can stretch +themselves. On this foundation he builds myths that tease by a +certain semblance of rationality,--elegiac, more often sentimental, +but at their best, like normal children, without strained pathos or +forced sympathy.</p> +<p>Such personification has obvious dramatic and lyric elements; +but Andersen lacked the technique of poetic and dramatic art, and +marred his prose descriptions, both in novels and books of travel, +by an intrusive egotism and lyric exaggeration. No doubt, +therefore, the most permanent part of his work is that which +popular instinct has selected, the 'Picture Book without Pictures,' +the 'Tales and Stories'; and among these, those will last longest +that have least of the lyric and most of the dramatic element.</p> +<p>Nearly all of Andersen's books are translated in ten uniform but +unnumbered volumes, published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company. Of +the numerous translations of the 'Tales,' Mary Howitt's (1846) and +Sommer's (1893) are the best, though far from faultless.</p> +<p>The 'Life of Hans Christian Andersen' by R. Nisbet Bain (New +York, 1895) is esteemed the best.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-037.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="ANDERSEN_1"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE STEADFAST TIN SOLDIER</h2> +<center>From 'Collected Fairy Tales,' newly translated</center> +<br> +<p>There were once twenty-five tin soldiers, who were all brothers, +for they were cast out of one old tin spoon. They held their +muskets, and their faces were turned to the enemy; red and blue, +ever so fine, were the uniforms. The first thing they heard in this +world, when the cover was taken from the box where they lay, were +the words, "Tin soldiers!" A little boy shouted it, and clapped his +hands. He had got them because it was his birthday, and now he set +them up on the table. Each soldier was just like the other, only +one was a little different. He had but one leg, for he had been +cast last, and there was not enough tin. But he stood on his one +leg just as firm as the others on two, so he was just the one to be +famous.</p> +<p>On the table where they were set up stood a lot of other +playthings; but what caught your eye was a pretty castle of paper. +Through the little windows you could see right into the halls. +Little trees stood in front, around a bit of looking-glass which +was meant for a lake. Wax swans swam on it and were reflected in +it. That was all very pretty, but still the prettiest thing was a +little girl who stood right in the castle gate. She was cut out of +paper too, but she had a silk dress, and a little narrow blue +ribbon across her shoulders, on which was a sparkling star as big +as her whole face. The little girl lifted her arms gracefully in +the air, for she was a dancer; and then she lifted one leg so high +that the tin soldier could not find it at all, and thought that she +had only one leg, just like himself.</p> +<p>"That would be the wife for me," thought he, "but she is too +fine for me. She lives in a castle, and I have only a box, which I +have to share with twenty-four. That is no house for her. But I +will see whether I can make her acquaintance." Then he lay down at +full length behind a snuff-box which was on the table. From there +he could watch the trig little lady who kept standing on one leg +without losing her balance. When evening came, the other tin +soldiers were all put in their box, and the people in the house +went to bed. Then the playthings began to play, first at +"visiting," then at "war" and at "dancing." The tin soldiers +rattled in their box, for they would have liked to join in it, but +they could not get the cover off. The nutcracker turned +somersaults, and the pencil scrawled over the slate. There was such +a racket that the canary-bird woke up and began to sing, and that +in verses. The only ones that did not stir were the tin soldier and +the little dancer. She stood straight on tiptoe and stretched up +both arms; he was just as steadfast on his one leg. He did not take +his eyes from her a moment.</p> +<p>Now it struck twelve, and bang! up went the cover of the +snuff-box, but it wasn't tobacco in it: no, but a little black +Troll. It was a trick box.</p> +<p>"Tin soldier!" said the Troll, "will you stare your eyes out?" +But the tin soldier made believe he did not hear. "You wait till +morning!" said the Troll.</p> +<p>When morning came, and the children got up, the tin soldier was +put on the window ledge; and whether it was the Troll, or a gust of +wind, all at once the window flew open and the tin soldier fell +head first from the third story. That was an awful fall. He +stretched his leg straight up, and stuck with his bayonet and cap +right between the paving-stones.</p> +<p>The maid and the little boy came right down to hunt for him, but +they couldn't see him, though they came so near that they almost +trod on him. If the tin soldier had called "Here I am," they surely +would have found him; but since he was in uniform he did not think +it proper to call aloud.</p> +<p>Now it began to rain. The drops chased one another. It was a +regular shower. When that was over, two street boys came along.</p> +<p>"Hallo!" said one, "There's a tin soldier. He must be off and +sail."</p> +<p>Then they made a boat out of a newspaper, put the tin soldier in +it, and made him sail down the gutter. Both boys ran beside it, and +clapped their hands. Preserve us! What waves there were in the +gutter, and what a current! It must have rained torrents. The paper +boat rocked up and down, and sometimes it whirled around so that +the tin soldier shivered. But he remained steadfast, did not lose +color, looked straight ahead and held his musket firm.</p> +<p>All at once the boat plunged under a long gutter-bridge. It was +as dark there as it had been in his box.</p> +<p>"Where am I going now?" thought he. "Yes, yes, that is the +Troll's fault. Oh! if the little lady were only in the boat, I +would not care if it were twice as dark."</p> +<p>At that instant there came a great water-rat who lived under the +gutter-bridge.</p> +<p>"Have you a pass?" said the rat. "Show me your pass."</p> +<p>But the tin soldier kept still, and only held his musket the +firmer. The boat rushed on, and the rat behind. Oh! how he gnashed +his teeth, and called to the sticks and straws:--</p> +<p>"Stop him! Stop him! He has not paid toll. He has showed no +pass."</p> +<p>But the current got stronger and stronger. Before he got to the +end of the bridge the tin soldier could see daylight, but he heard +also a rushing noise that might frighten a brave man's heart. Just +think! at the end of the bridge the gutter emptied into a great +canal, which for him was as dangerous as for us to sail down a +great waterfall.</p> +<p>He was so near it already that he could not stop. The boat went +down. The poor tin soldier held himself as straight as he could. No +one should say of him that he had ever blinked his eyes. The boat +whirled three or four times and filled with water. It had to sink. +The tin soldier stood up to his neck in water, and deeper, deeper +sank the boat. The paper grew weaker and weaker. Now the waves went +over the soldier's head. Then he thought of the pretty little +dancer whom he never was to see again, and there rang in the tin +soldier's ears:--</p> +"Farewell, warrior! farewell!<br> +Death shalt thou stiffer."<br> +<p>Now the paper burst in two, and the tin soldier fell +through,--but in that minute he was swallowed by a big fish.</p> +<p>Oh! wasn't it dark in there. It was worse even than under the +gutter-bridge, and besides, so cramped. But the tin soldier was +steadfast, and lay at full length, musket in hand.</p> +<p>The fish rushed around and made the most fearful jumps. At last +he was quite still, and something went through him like a lightning +flash. Then a bright light rushed in, and somebody called aloud, +"The tin soldier!" The fish had been caught, brought to market, +sold, and been taken to the kitchen, where the maid had slit it up +with a big knife. She caught the soldier around the body and +carried him into the parlor, where everybody wanted to see such a +remarkable man who had traveled about in a fish's belly. But the +tin soldier was not a bit proud. They put him on the table, and +there--well! what strange things do happen in the world--the tin +soldier was in the very same room that he had been in before. He +saw the same children, and the same playthings were on the table, +the splendid castle with the pretty little dancer; she was still +standing on one leg, and had the other high in the air. She was +steadfast, too. That touched the tin soldier so that he could +almost have wept tin tears, but that would not have been proper. He +looked at her and she looked at him, but they said nothing at +all.</p> +<p>Suddenly one of the little boys seized the tin soldier and threw +him right into the tile-stove, although he had no reason to. It was +surely the Troll in the box who was to blame.</p> +<p>The tin soldier stood in full light and felt a fearful heat; but +whether that came from the real fire, or from his glowing love, he +could not tell. All the color had faded from him; but whether this +had happened on the journey, or whether it came from care, no one +could say. He looked at the little girl and she looked at him. He +felt that he was melting, but still he stood steadfast, musket in +hand. Then a door opened. A whiff of air caught the dancer, and she +flew like a sylph right into the tile-stove to the tin soldier, +blazed up in flame, and was gone. Then the tin soldier melted to a +lump, and when the maid next day took out the ashes, she found him +as a little tin heart. But of the dancer only the star was left, +and that was burnt coal-black.</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_2"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE TEAPOT</h2> +<center>From 'Riverside Literature Series': 1891, by Houghton, +Mifflin & Co.</center> +<br> +<p>There was a proud Teapot, proud of being porcelain, proud of its +long spout, proud of its broad handle. It had something before and +behind--the spout before, the handle behind--and that was what it +talked about. But it did not talk of its lid--that was cracked, it +was riveted, it had faults; and one does not talk about one's +faults--there are plenty of others to do that. The cups, the +cream-pot, the sugar-bowl, the whole tea-service would be reminded +much more of the lid's weakness, and talk about that, than of the +sound handle and the remarkable spout. The Teapot knew it.</p> +<p>"I know you," it said within itself, "I know well enough, too, +my fault; and I am well aware that in that very thing is seen my +humility, my modesty. We all have faults, but then one also has a +talent. The cups get a handle, the sugar-bowl a lid; I get both, +and one thing besides in front which they never got,--I get a +spout, and that makes me a queen on the tea-table. The sugar-bowl +and cream-pot are good-looking serving maids; but I am the one who +gives, yes, the one high in council. I spread abroad a blessing +among thirsty mankind. In my insides the Chinese leaves are worked +up in the boiling, tasteless water."</p> +<p>All this said the Teapot in its fresh young life. It stood on +the table that was spread for tea, it was lifted by a very delicate +hand; but the very delicate hand was awkward, the Teapot fell. The +spout snapped off, the handle snapped off; the lid was no worse to +speak of--the worst had been spoken of that. The Teapot lay in a +swoon on the floor, while the boiling water ran out of it. It was a +horrid shame, but the worst was that they jeered at it; they jeered +at it, and not at the awkward hand.</p> +<p>"I never shall lose the memory of that!" said the Teapot, when +it afterward talked to itself of the course of its life. "I was +called an invalid, and placed in a corner, and the day after was +given away to a woman who begged victuals. I fell into poverty, and +stood dumb both outside and in; but there, as I stood, began my +better life. One is one thing and becomes quite another. Earth was +placed in me: for a Teapot that is the same as being buried, but in +the earth was placed a flower bulb. Who placed it there, who gave +it, I know not; given it was, and it took the place of the Chinese +leaves and the boiling water, the broken handle and spout. And the +bulb lay in the earth, the bulb lay in me, it became my heart, my +living heart, such as I never before had. There was life in me, +power and might. My pulses beat, the bulb put forth sprouts, it was +the springing up of thoughts and feelings; they burst forth in +flower. I saw it, I bore it, I forgot myself in its delight. +Blessed is it to forget one's self in another. The bulb gave me no +thanks, it did not think of me--it was admired and praised. I was +so glad at that: how happy must it have been! One day I heard it +said that it ought to have a better pot. I was thumped on my +back--that was rather hard to bear; but the flower was put in a +better pot--and I was thrown away in the yard, where I lie as an +old crock. But I have the memory: <i>that</i> I can never +lose."</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_3"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE UGLY DUCKLING</h2> +<center>From 'Riverside Literature Series': 1891, by Houghton, +Mifflin & Co.</center> +<br> +<h3>I--THE DUCKLING IS BORN</h3> +<br> +<p>It was glorious in the country. It was summer; the cornfields +were yellow, the oats were green, the hay had been put up in stacks +in the green meadows; and the stork went about on his long red +legs, and chattered Egyptian, for this was the language he had +learned from his mother. All around the fields and meadows were +great woods, and in the midst of these woods deep lakes. Yes, it +was right glorious in the country.</p> +<p>In the midst of the sunshine there lay an old farm, with deep +canals about it; and from the wall down to the water grew great +burdocks, so high that little children could stand upright under +the tallest of them. It was just as wild there as in the deepest +wood, and here sat a Duck upon her nest. She had to hatch her +ducklings, but she was almost tired out before the little ones +came; and she seldom had visitors. The other ducks liked better to +swim about in the canals than to run up to sit under a burdock and +gabble with her.</p> +<p>At last one egg-shell after another burst open. "Pip! pip!" each +cried, and in all the eggs there were little things that stuck out +their heads.</p> +<p>"Quack! quack!" said the Duck, and they all came quacking out as +fast as they could, looking all around them under the green leaves; +and the mother let them look as much as they liked, for green is +good for the eye.</p> +<p>"How wide the world is!" said all the young ones; for they +certainly had much more room now than when they were inside the +eggs.</p> +<p>"D'ye think this is all the world?" said the mother. "That +stretches far across the other side of the garden, quite into the +parson's field; but I have never been there yet. I hope you are all +together," and she stood up. "No, I have not all. The largest egg +still lies there. How long is that to last? I am really tired of +it." And so she sat down again.</p> +<p>"Well, how goes it?" asked an old Duck who had come to pay her a +visit.</p> +<p>"It lasts a long time with this one egg," said the Duck who sat +there. "It will not open. Now, only look at the others! They are +the prettiest little ducks I ever saw. They are all like their +father: the rogue, he never comes to see me."</p> +<p>"Let me see the egg which will not burst," said the old Duck. +"You may be sure it is a turkey's egg. I was once cheated in that +way, and had much care and trouble with the young ones, for they +are afraid of the water. Must I say it to you? I could not make +them go in. I quacked, and I clacked, but it was no use. Let me see +the egg. Yes, that's a turkey's egg. Let it lie there, and do you +teach the other children to swim."</p> +<p>"I think I will sit on it a little longer," said the Duck. "I've +sat so long now that I can sit a few days more."</p> +<p>"Just as you please," said the old Duck; and she went away.</p> +<p>At last the great egg burst. "Pip! pip!" said the little one, +and crept forth. He was so big and ugly. The Duck looked at +him.</p> +<p>"It's a very large Duckling," said she. "None of the others +looks like that: it really must be a turkey chick! Well, we shall +soon find out. Into the water shall he go, even if I have to push +him in."</p> +<br> +<h3>II--HOW THE DUCKLING WAS TREATED AT HOME</h3> +<br> +<p>The next day it was bright, beautiful weather; the sun shone on +all the green burdocks. The Mother-Duck, with all her family, went +down to the canal. Splash! she jumped into the water. "Quack! +quack!" she said, and one duckling after another plumped in. The +water closed over their heads, but they came up in an instant, and +swam off finely; their legs went of themselves, and they were all +in the water; even the ugly gray Duckling swam with them.</p> +<p>"No, it's not a turkey," said she: "look how well he uses his +legs, how straight he holds himself. It is my own child! On the +whole he's quite pretty, when one looks at him rightly. Quack! +quack! come now with me, and I'll lead you out into the world, and +present you in the duck-yard; but keep close to me all the time, so +that no one may tread on you, and look out for the cats."</p> +<p>And so they came into the duck-yard. There was a terrible row +going on in there, for two families were fighting about an eel's +head, and so the cat got it.</p> +<p>"See, that's the way it goes in the world!" said the +Mother-Duck; and she whetted her beak, for she too wanted the eel's +head. "Only use your legs," she said. "See that you can bustle +about, and bend your necks before the old Duck yonder. She's the +grandest of all here; she's of Spanish blood--that's why she's so +fat; and do you see? she has a red rag around her leg; that's +something very, very fine, and the greatest mark of honor a duck +can have: it means that one does not want to lose her, and that +she's known by the animals and by men too. Hurry! hurry!--don't +turn in your toes, a well brought-up duck turns it's toes quite +out, just like father and mother,--so! Now bend your necks and say +'Quack!'"</p> +<p>And they did so; but the other ducks round about looked at them, +and said quite boldly,--"Look there! now we're to have this crowd +too! as if there were not enough of us already! And--fie!--how that +Duckling yonder looks: we won't stand that!" And at once one Duck +flew at him, and bit him in the neck.</p> +<p>"Let him alone," said the mother: "he is not doing anything to +any one."</p> +<p>"Yes, but he's too large and odd," said the Duck who had bitten +him, "and so he must be put down."</p> +<p>"Those are pretty children the mother has," said the old Duck +with the rag round her leg. "They're all pretty but that one; that +is rather unlucky. I wish she could have that one over again."</p> +<p>"That cannot be done, my lady," said the Mother-Duck. "He is not +pretty, but he has a really good temper, and swims as well as any +of the others; yes, I may even say it, a little better. I think he +will grow up pretty, perhaps in time he will grow a little smaller; +he lay too long in the egg, and therefore he has not quite the +right shape." And she pinched him in the neck, and smoothed his +feathers. "Besides, he is a drake," she said, "and so it does not +matter much. I think he will be very strong: he makes his way +already."</p> +<p>"The other ducklings are graceful enough," said the old Duck. +"Make yourself at home; and if you find an eel's head, you may +bring it to me."</p> +<p>And now they were at home. But the poor Duckling who had crept +last out of the egg, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and +made fun of, as much by the ducks as by the chickens.</p> +<p>"He is too big!" they all said. And the turkey-cock, who had +been born with spurs, and so thought he was an emperor, blew +himself up, like a ship in full sail, and bore straight down upon +him; then he gobbled and grew quite red in the face. The poor +Duckling did not know where he dared stand or walk; he was quite +unhappy because he looked ugly, and was the sport of the whole +duck-yard.</p> +<p>So it went on the first day; and then it grew worse and worse. +The poor Duckling was hunted about by every one; even his brothers +and sisters were quite angry with him, and said, "If the cat would +only catch you, you ugly creature!" And the ducks bit him, and the +chickens beat him, and the girl who had to feed the poultry kicked +at him with her foot.</p> +<br> +<h3>III--OUT ON THE MOOR</h3> +<br> +<p>Then he ran and flew over the fence, and the little birds in the +bushes flew up in fear.</p> +<p>"That is because I am so ugly!" thought the Duckling; and he +shut his eyes, but flew on further; and so he came out into the +great moor, where the wild ducks lived. Here he lay the whole night +long, he was so tired and sad.</p> +<p>Toward morning the wild ducks flew up, and looked at their new +mate.</p> +<p>"What sort of a one are you?" they asked; and the Duckling +turned about to each, and bowed as well as he could. "You are +really very ugly!" said the Wild Ducks. "But that is all the same +to us, so long as you do not marry into our family."</p> +<p>Poor thing! he certainly did not think of marrying, and only +dared ask leave to lie among the reeds and drink some of the swamp +water.</p> +<p>There he lay two whole days; then came thither two wild geese, +or, more truly, two wild ganders. It was not long since each had +crept out of an egg, and that's why they were so saucy.</p> +<p>"Listen, comrade," said one of them. "You're so ugly that I like +you. Will you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Near here +is another moor, where are a few sweet lovely wild geese, all +unmarried, and all able to say 'Quack!' You've a chance of making +your fortune, ugly as you are."</p> +<p>"Piff! paff!" sounded through the air; and both the ganders fell +down dead in the reeds, and the water became blood-red. "Piff! +paff!" it sounded again, and the whole flock of wild geese flew up +from the reeds. And then there was another report. A great hunt was +going on. The gunners lay around in the moor, and some were even +sitting up in the branches of the trees, which spread far over the +reeds. The blue smoke rose like clouds in among the dark trees, and +hung over the water; and the hunting dogs came--splash, +splash!--into the mud, and the rushes and reeds bent down on every +side. That was a fright for the poor Duckling! He turned his head +to put it under his wing; and at that very moment a frightful great +dog stood close by the Duckling. His tongue hung far out of his +mouth, and his eyes glared horribly. He put his nose close to the +Duckling, showed his sharp teeth, and--splash, splash!--on he went +without seizing it.</p> +<p>"Oh, Heaven be thanked!" sighed the Duckling. "I am so ugly that +even the dog does not like to bite me!"</p> +<p>And so he lay quite quiet, while the shots rattled through the +reeds and gun after gun was fired. At last, late in the day, all +was still: but the poor little thing did not dare to rise up; he +waited several hours still before he looked around, and then +hurried away out of the moor as fast as he could. He ran on over +field and meadow; there was a storm, so that he had hard work to +get away.</p> +<br> +<h3>IV--IN THE PEASANT'S HUT</h3> +<br> +<p>Towards evening the Duckling came to a peasant's poor little +hut: it was so tumbled down that it did not itself know on which +side it should fall; and that's why it stood up. The storm whistled +around the Duckling in such a way that he had to sit down to keep +from blowing away; and the wind blew worse and worse. Then he +noticed that one of the hinges of the door had given way, and the +door hung so slanting that he could slip through the crack into the +room; and that is what he did.</p> +<p>Here lived an old woman, with her Cat and her Hen. And the Cat, +whom she called Sonnie, could arch his back and purr; he could even +give out sparks--but for that, one had to stroke his fur the wrong +way. The Hen had quite small, short legs, and therefore she was +called Chickabiddy Shortshanks; she laid good eggs, and the woman +loved her as her own child.</p> +<p>In the morning they noticed at once the strange Duckling, and +the Cat began to purr and the Hen to cluck.</p> +<p>"What's this?" said the woman, and looked all around; but she +could not see well, and therefore she thought the Duckling was a +fat duck that had strayed. "This is a rare prize!" she said. "Now I +shall have duck's eggs. I hope it is not a drake. We must try +that."</p> +<p>And so the Duckling was taken on trial for three weeks, but no +eggs came. And the Cat was master of the house, and the Hen was the +lady, and always said "We and the world!" for they thought they +were half the world, and by far the better half. It seemed to the +Duckling that one might have another mind, but the Hen would not +allow it.</p> +<p>"Can you lay eggs?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Then will you hold your tongue!"</p> +<p>And the Cat said, "Can you curve your back, and purr, and give +out sparks?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Then you will please have no opinion of your own when sensible +folks are speaking!"</p> +<p>And the Duckling sat in a corner and was in low spirits; then he +began to think of the fresh air and the sunshine; and he was seized +with such a strange longing to swim on the water, that he could not +help telling the Hen of it.</p> +<p>"What are you thinking of?" cried the Hen. "You have nothing to +do, that's why you have these fancies. Lay eggs, or purr, and they +will pass over."</p> +<p>"But it is so charming to swim in the water," said the Duckling, +"so nice to feel it go over one's head, and to dive down to the +bottom!"</p> +<p>"Yes, that's a fine thing, truly," said the Hen. "You are clean +gone crazy. Ask the Cat about it,--he's the cleverest thing I +know,--ask him if he likes to swim in the water, or to dive down: I +won't speak about myself. Ask our mistress herself, the old woman; +no one in the world knows more than she. Do you think she wants to +swim, and let the water close above her head?"</p> +<p>"You don't understand me," said the Duckling.</p> +<p>"We don't understand you! Then pray who is to understand you? +You surely don't pretend to be cleverer than the Cat and the +woman--I won't say anything of myself. Don't make a fool of +yourself, child, and thank your Maker for all the good you have. +Are you not come into a warm room, and have you not folks about you +from whom you can learn something? But you are a goose, and it is +not pleasant to have you about. You may believe me, I speak for +your good. I tell you things you won't like, and by that one may +always know one's true friends! Only take care that you learn to +lay eggs, or to purr, and to give out sparks!"</p> +<p>"I think I will go out into the wide world," said the +Duckling.</p> +<p>"Yes, do go," replied the Hen.</p> +<p>And so the Duckling went away. He swam on the water, and dived, +but he was shunned by every creature because he was so ugly.</p> +<br> +<h3>V--WHAT BECAME OF THE DUCKLING</h3> +<br> +<p>Now came the fall of the year. The leaves in the wood turned +yellow and brown; the wind caught them so that they danced about, +and up in the air it was very cold. The clouds hung low, heavy with +hail and snow-flakes, and on the fence stood the raven, crying +"Croak! croak!" for mere cold; yes, one could freeze fast if one +thought about it. The poor little Duckling certainly had not a good +time. One evening--the sun was just going down in fine style--there +came a whole flock of great handsome birds out of the bushes; they +were shining white, with long, supple necks; they were swans. They +uttered a very strange cry, spread forth their glorious great +wings, and flew away from that cold region to warmer lands, to fair +open lakes. They mounted so high, so high! and the ugly Duckling +had such a strange feeling as he saw them! He turned round and +round in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards +them, and uttered a cry, so high, so strange, that he was +frightened as he heard it.</p> +<p>Oh! he could not forget those beautiful, happy birds; and as +soon as he could see them no longer, he dived down to the very +bottom, and when he came up again, he was quite beside himself. He +did not know what the birds were, nor where they were flying to; +but he loved them more than he had ever loved any one. He did not +envy them at all. How could he think of wishing to have such +loveliness as they had? He would have been glad if only the ducks +would have let him be among them--the poor, ugly creature!</p> +<p>And the winter grew so cold, so cold! The Duckling had to swim +about in the water, to keep it from freezing over; but every night +the hole in which he swam about became smaller and smaller. It +froze so hard that the icy cover sounded; and the Duckling had to +use his legs all the time to keep the hole from freezing tight. At +last he became worn out, and lay quite still, and thus froze fast +in the ice.</p> +<p>Early in the morning a peasant came by, and found him there; he +took his wooden shoe, broke the ice to pieces, and carried the +Duckling home to his wife. Then the Duckling came to himself again. +The children wanted to play with him; but he thought they wanted to +hurt him, and in his terror he flew up into the milk-pan, so that +the milk spilled over into the room. The woman screamed and shook +her hand in the air, at which the Duckling flew down into the tub +where they kept the butter, and then into the meal-barrel and out +again. How he looked then! The woman screamed, and struck at him +with the fire tongs; the children tumbled over one another as they +tried to catch the Duckling; and they laughed and they +screamed!--well was it that the door stood open, and the poor +creature was able to slip out between the bushes into the +newly-fallen snow--there he lay quite worn out.</p> +<p>But it would be too sad if I were to tell all the misery and +care which the Duckling had to bear in the hard winter. He lay out +on the moor among the reeds, when the sun began to shine again and +the larks to sing; it was a beautiful spring.</p> +<p>Then all at once the Duckling could flap his wings: they beat +the air more strongly than before, and bore him stoutly away; and +before he well knew it, he found himself in a great garden, where +the elder-trees stood in flower, and bent their long green branches +down to the winding canal, and the lilacs smelt sweet. Oh, here it +was beautiful, fresh, and springlike! and from the thicket came +three glorious white swans; they rustled their wings, and sat +lightly on the water. The Duckling knew the splendid creatures, and +felt a strange sadness.</p> +<p>"I will fly away to them, to the royal birds! and they will beat +me, because I, that am so ugly, dare to come near them. But it is +all the same. Better to be killed by them than to be chased by +ducks, and beaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes +care of the poultry yard, and to suffer hunger in winter!" And he +flew out into the water, and swam toward the beautiful swans: these +looked at him, and came sailing down upon him with outspread wings. +"Kill me!" said the poor creature, and bent his head down upon the +water, and waited for death. But what saw he in the clear water? He +saw below him his own image; and lo! it was no longer a clumsy +dark-gray bird, ugly and hateful to look at, but--a swan!</p> +<p>It matters nothing if one is born in a duck-yard, if one has +only lain in a swan's egg.</p> +<p>He felt quite glad at all the need and hard times he had borne; +now he could joy in his good luck in all the brightness that was +round him. And the great swans swam round him and stroked him with +their beaks.</p> +<p>Into the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn +into the water; and the youngest cried, "There is a new one!" and +the other children shouted, "Yes, a new one has come!" And they +clapped their hands and danced about, and ran to their father and +mother; and bread and cake were thrown into the water; and they all +said, "The new one is the most beautiful of all! so young and so +handsome!" and the old swans bowed their heads before him.</p> +<p>Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wings, +for he did not know what to do; he was so happy, and yet not at all +proud, for a good heart is never proud. He thought how he had been +driven about and mocked and despised; and now he heard them all +saying that he was the most beautiful of all beautiful birds. And +the lilacs bent their branches straight down into the water before +him, and the sun shone warm and mild. Then his wings rustled, he +lifted his slender neck, and cried from the depths of his +heart:--</p> +<p>"I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the Ugly +Duckling."</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_4"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>WHAT THE MOON SAW</h2> +<br> +<center>Hear what the Moon told me:--</center> +<p>"I have seen a cadet promoted to be an officer, and dressing +himself for the first time in his gorgeous uniform; I have seen +young girls in bridal attire, and the prince's young bride in her +wedding dress: but I never saw such bliss as that of a little +four-year-old girl whom I watched this evening. She had got a new +blue dress, and a new pink hat. The finery was just put on, and all +were calling for light, for the moonbeams that came through the +window were not bright enough. They wanted very different lights +from that. There stood the little girl, stiff as a doll, keeping +her arms anxiously off her dress, and her fingers stretched wide +apart. Oh! what happiness beamed from her eyes, from her whole +face. 'To-morrow you may go to walk in the dress,' said the mother; +and the little one looked up at her hat and down again at her +dress, and smiled blissfully. 'Mother,' she cried, 'what will the +little dogs think when they see me in all these fine clothes?'"</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_5"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE LOVERS</h2> +<center>From 'Riverside Literature Series': 1891, by Houghton, +Mifflin & Co.</center> +<br> +<p>The Top and the Ball lay in a drawer among some other toys; and +so the Top said to the Ball:--"Shall we not be lovers, since we +live together in the same drawer?"</p> +<p>But the Ball, which had a coat of morocco leather, and thought +herself as good as any fine lady, had nothing to say to such a +thing. The next day came the little boy who owned the toys: he +painted the Top red and yellow, and drove a brass nail into it; and +the Top looked splendidly when he turned round.</p> +<p>"Look at me!" he cried to the Ball. "What do you say now? Shall +we not be lovers? We go so nicely together? You jump and I dance! +No one could be happier than we two should be."</p> +<p>"Indeed! Do you think so?" said the Ball. "Perhaps you do not +know that my papa and my mamma were morocco slippers, and that I +have a cork inside me?"</p> +<p>"Yes, but I am made of mahogany," said the Top; "and the mayor +himself turned me. He has a turning-lathe of his own, and it amuses +him greatly."</p> +<p>"Can I depend on that?" asked the Ball.</p> +<p>"May I never be whipped again if it is not true!" replied the +Top.</p> +<p>"You talk well for yourself," said the Ball, "but I cannot do +what you ask. I am as good as half engaged to a swallow: every time +I leap up into the air he sticks his head out of the nest and says, +'Will you? will you?' And now I have silently said 'Yes,' and that +is as good as being half engaged; but I promise I will never forget +you."</p> +<p>"Much good that will do!" said the Top.</p> +<p>And they spoke no more to each other.</p> +<p>Next day the Ball was taken out. The Top saw how she flew high +into the air, like a bird; at last one could no longer see her. +Each time she came back again, but always gave a high leap when she +touched the earth; and that came about either from her longing, or +because she had a cork in her body. The ninth time the Ball stayed +away and did not come back again; and the boy looked and looked, +but she was gone.</p> +<p>"I know very well where she is!" sighed the Top. "She is in the +Swallow's nest, and has married the Swallow!"</p> +<p>The more the Top thought of this, the more he longed for the +Ball. Just because he could not get her, he fell more in love with +her. That she had taken some one else, that was another thing. So +the Top danced around and hummed, but always thought of the Ball, +which grew more and more lovely in his fancy. Thus many years went +by,--and now it was an old love.</p> +<p>And the Top was no longer young. But one day he was gilt all +over; never had he looked so handsome; he was now a golden Top, and +sprang till he hummed again. Yes, that was something! But all at +once he sprang too high, and--he was gone!</p> +<p>They looked and looked, even in the cellar, but he was not to be +found.</p> +<p>Where was he?</p> +<p>He had jumped into the dust-box, where all kinds of things were +lying: cabbage stalks, sweepings, and gravel that had fallen down +from the roof.</p> +<p>"Here's a nice place to lie in! The gilding will soon leave me +here. And what a rabble I've come amongst!"</p> +<p>And then he looked askance at a long cabbage stalk that was much +too near him, and at a curious round thing like an old apple; but +it was not an apple--it was an old Ball, which had lain for years +in the roof-gutter and was soaked through with water.</p> +<p>"Thank goodness, here comes one of us, with whom one can talk!" +said the little Ball, and looked at the gilt Top. "I am really +morocco, sewn by a girl's hands, and have a cork inside me; but no +one would think it to look at me. I was very near marrying a +swallow, but I fell into the gutter on the roof, and have laid +there full five years, and am quite soaked through. That's a long +time, you may believe me, for a young girl."</p> +<p>But the Top said nothing. He thought of his old love; and the +more he heard, the clearer it became to him that this was she. Then +came the servant-girl, and wanted to empty the dust-box. "Aha, +there's a gilt top!" she cried. And so the Top was brought again to +notice and honor, but nothing was heard of the Ball. And the Top +spoke no more of his old love: for that dies away when the beloved +has lain for five years in a gutter and got soaked through; yes, +one does not know her again when one meets her in the dust-box.</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_6"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE SNOW QUEEN</h2> +<center>From 'Riverside Literature Series': 1891, by Houghton, +Mifflin & Co.</center> +<br> +<h3>FOURTH STORY--THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS</h3> +<p>Gerda was obliged to rest herself again, when just over against +where she sat, a large Crow hopped over the white snow. He had sat +there a long while, looking at her and shaking his head; and now he +said, "Caw! caw! Good day! good day!" He could not say it better; +but he meant well by the little girl, and asked her where she was +going all alone out in the wide world. The word "alone" Gerda +understood quite well, and felt how much lay in it; so she told the +Crow her whole history, and asked if he had not seen Kay.</p> +<p>The Crow nodded very gravely, and said, "It may be--it may +be!"</p> +<p>"What--do you really think so?" cried the little girl; and she +nearly squeezed the Crow to death, so much did she kiss him.</p> +<p>"Gently, gently," said the Crow. "I think I know; I think that +it may be little Kay. But now he has quite forgotten you for the +Princess."</p> +<p>"Does he live with a princess?" asked Gerda.</p> +<p>"Yes,--listen," said the Crow; "but it is hard for me to speak +your language. If you understand the Crow language, I can tell you +better."</p> +<p>"No, I have not learnt it," said Gerda; "but my grandmother +understands it. I wish I had learnt it."</p> +<p>"No matter," said the Crow: "I will tell you as well as I can; +but it will be bad enough." And then he told all he knew.</p> +<p>"In the kingdom where we now are, there lives a princess, who is +vastly clever; for she has read all the newspapers in the whole +world, and has forgotten them again,--so clever is she. Some time +ago, they say, she was sitting on her throne,--which is no great +fun, after all,--when she began humming an old tune, and it was +just 'Oh, why should I not be married?' 'Come, now, there is +something in that,' said she, and so then she was bound to marry; +but she would have a husband who knew how to give an answer when he +was spoken to,--not one who was good for nothing but to stand and +be looked at, for that is very tiresome. She then had all the +ladies of the court drummed together; and when they heard what she +meant to do, all were well pleased, and said, 'We are quite glad to +hear it: it is the very thing we were thinking of.' You may believe +every word I say," said the Crow, "for I have a tame sweetheart +that hops about in the palace quite freely, and she told me +all.</p> +<p>"The newspapers at once came out with a border of hearts and the +initials of the Princess; and you could read in them that every +good-looking young man was free to come to the palace and speak to +the Princess; and he who spoke in such wise as showed he felt +himself at home there, and talked best, that one the Princess would +choose for her husband.</p> +<p>"Yes--yes," said the Crow, "you may believe it; it is as true as +I am sitting here. People came in crowds; there was a crush and a +hurry, but no one had good luck either on the first or second day. +They could all talk well enough when they were out in the street; +but as soon as they came inside the palace gates, and saw the guard +richly dressed in silver, and the lackeys in gold, on the +staircase, and the large lighted halls, then they were dumb; and +when they stood before the throne on which the Princess was +sitting, all they could do was to repeat the last word she had +said, and she didn't care to hear that again. It was just as if the +people within were under a charm, and had fallen into a trance till +they came out again into the street; for then--oh, then they could +chatter enough. There was a whole row of them from the town gates +to the palace. I was there myself to look on," said the Crow. "They +grew hungry and thirsty; but from the palace they got not so much +as a glass of water. Some of the cleverest, it is true, had taken +bread and butter with them; but none shared it with his neighbor, +for each thought, 'Let him look hungry, and then the Princess won't +have him.'"</p> +<p>"But Kay--little Kay," asked Gerda, "when did he come? Was he +among the number?"</p> +<p>"Give me time! give me time! we are coming to him. It was on the +third day, when a little personage, without horse or carriage, came +marching right boldly up to the palace; his eyes shone like yours, +he had beautiful long hair, but his clothes were very shabby."</p> +<p>"That was Kay," cried Gerda, with a voice of delight. "Oh, now +I've found him!" and she clapped her hands.</p> +<p>"He had a little knapsack at his back," said the Crow.</p> +<p>"No, that was certainly his sled," said Gerda; "for he went away +with his sled."</p> +<p>"That may be," said the Crow; "I did not see him close to; but I +know from my tame sweetheart that when he came into the courtyard +of the palace, and saw the body-guard in silver, and the lackeys on +the staircase in gold, he was not in the least cast down; he nodded +and said to them, 'It must be very tiresome to stand on the stairs; +for my part, I shall go in.' The halls were bright with lights. +Court people and fine folks were walking about on bare feet; it was +all very solemn. His boots creaked, too, very loudly; but still he +was not at all afraid."</p> +<p>"That's Kay, for certain," said Gerda. "I know he had on new +boots; I have heard them creaking in grandmamma's room."</p> +<p>"Yes, they creaked," said the Crow. "And on he went boldly up to +the Princess, who was sitting on a pearl as large as a +spinning-wheel. All the ladies of the court stood about, with their +maids and their maids' maids, and all the gentlemen with their +servants and their servants' servants, who kept a boy; and the +nearer they stood to the door, the prouder they looked. The boy of +the servants' servants, who always goes in slippers, hardly looked +at one, so very proudly did he stand in the doorway."</p> +<p>"It must have been terrible," said little Gerda. "And did Kay +get the Princess?"</p> +<p>"Were I not a Crow, I should have taken the Princess myself, +although I am engaged. It is said he spoke as well as I speak when +I talk crow language; this I learned from my tame sweetheart. He +was bold and nicely behaved; he had not come to woo the Princess, +but only to hear her wisdom. She pleased him and he pleased +her."</p> +<p>"Yes, yes, for certain that was Kay," said Gerda. "He was so +clever; he could do sums with fractions. Oh, won't you take me to +the palace?"</p> +<p>"That is very easily said," answered the Crow. "But how are we +to manage it? I'll speak to my tame sweetheart about it; she can +tell us what to do; for so much I must tell you, such a little girl +as you are will never get leave to go in the common way."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, I shall," said Gerda: "when Kay hears that I am here, +he will come out at once to fetch me."</p> +<p>"Wait for me here on these steps," said the Crow. He wagged his +head and flew away.</p> +<p>When it grew dark the Crow came back. "Caw! caw!" said he. "I +bring you a great many good wishes from her; and here is a bit of +bread for you. She took it out of the kitchen, where there is bread +enough, and you are hungry, no doubt. It is not possible for you to +enter the palace, for you are barefoot; the guards in silver and +the lackeys in gold would not allow it: but do not cry, you shall +come in still. My sweetheart knows a little back stair that leads +to the chamber, and she knows where she can get the key of it."</p> +<p>And they went into the garden by the broad path, where one leaf +was falling after the other; and when the lights in the palace were +all put out, one after the other, the Crow led little Gerda to the +back door, which stood ajar.</p> +<p>Oh, how Gerda's heart beat with doubt and longing! It was just +as if she had been about to do something wrong; and yet she only +wanted to know if little Kay was there. Yes, he must be there. She +called to mind his clear eyes and his long hair so vividly, she +could quite see him as he used to laugh when they were sitting +under the roses at home. He would surely be glad to see her--to +hear what a long way she had come for his sake; to know how unhappy +all at home were when he did not come back. Oh, what a fright and +what a joy it was!</p> +<p>Now they were on the stairs. A single lamp was burning there; +and on the floor stood the tame Crow, turning her head on every +side and looking at Gerda, who bowed as her grandmother had taught +her to do.</p> +<p>"My intended has told me so much good of you, my dear young +lady," said the tame Crow. "Your Life, as they call it, is very +affecting. If you will take the lamp, I will go before. We will go +straight on, for we shall meet no one."</p> +<p>"I think there is somebody just behind us," said Gerda; and it +rushed past her. It was like shadows on the wall: horses with +flowing manes and thin legs, huntsmen, ladies and gentlemen on +horseback.</p> +<p>"They are only dreams," said the Crow. "They come to fetch the +thoughts of the fine folk to the chase; 'tis well, for now you can +see them asleep all the better. But let me find, when you come to +have honor and fame, that you possess a grateful heart."</p> +<p>"Tut! that's not worth talking about," said the Crow from the +woods.</p> +<p>Now they came into the first hall, which was of rose-colored +satin, with painted flowers on the wall. Here the dreams were +rushing past, but they hurried by so quickly that Gerda could not +see the fine people. One hall was more showy than the other--well +might people be abashed; and at last they came into the +bed-chamber.</p> +<p>The ceiling of the room was like a great palm-tree, with leaves +of glass, of costly glass; and in the middle of the floor, from a +thick golden stalk, hung two beds, each of which was shaped like a +lily. One was white, and in this lay the Princess: the other was +red, and it was here that Gerda was to look for little Kay. She +bent back one of the red leaves, and saw a brown neck--oh, that was +Kay! She called him quite loud by name, held the lamp toward +him--the dreams rushed again on horseback into the chamber--he +awoke, turned his head, and--it was not little Kay!</p> +<p>The Prince was only like him about the neck; but he was young +and handsome. And out of the white lily leaves the Princess peeped +too, and asked what was the matter. Then little Gerda cried and +told her whole history, and all that the Crows had done for +her.</p> +<p>"Poor little thing!" said the Prince and the Princess, and they +praised the Crows very much, and told them they were not at all +angry with them, but they were not to do so again. However, they +should have a reward.</p> +<p>"Will you fly about at liberty?" asked the Princess; "or would +you like to have a steady place as court Crows with all the broken +bits from the kitchen?"</p> +<p>And both the Crows nodded, and begged for a steady place; for +they thought of their old age, and said "it was a good thing to +have something for the old folks," as the saying is.</p> +<p>And the Prince got up and let Gerda sleep in his bed, and more +than this he could not do. She folded her little hands, and +thought, "How good men and animals are!" and then she shut her eyes +and slept soundly. All the dreams came flying in again, and they +now looked like the angels; they drew a little sled, on which Kay +sat and nodded his head: but the whole was only a dream, and so it +was all gone as soon as she awoke.</p> +<p>The next day she was dressed from top to toe in silk and velvet. +They offered to let her stay at the palace, and lead a happy life; +but she begged only to have a little carriage with a horse in +front, and for a small pair of shoes; then, she said, she would +again go forth in the wide world and look for Kay.</p> +<p>And she got both shoes and a muff; she was dressed very nicely, +too; and when she was about to set off, a new carriage stopped +before the door. It was of pure gold, and the arms of the Prince +and Princess shone like a star upon it; the coachman, the footmen, +and the outriders, for outriders were there too, all wore golden +crowns. The Prince and Princess helped her into the carriage +themselves, and wished her good luck. The Crow of the woods, who +was now married, went with her for the first three miles. He sat +beside Gerda, for he could not bear riding backward; the other Crow +stood in the doorway, and flapped her wings; she could not go with +Gerda, because she suffered from headache since she had had a +steady place, and ate so much. The carriage was lined inside with +sugar-plums, and in the seats were fruits and cookies.</p> +<p>"Good-by! good-by!" cried Prince and Princess; and little Gerda +wept, and the Crows wept. Thus passed the first miles; and then the +Crow said good-by, and this was the worst good-by of all. He flew +into a tree, and beat his black wings as long as he could see the +carriage, that shone from afar like the clear sunlight.</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_7"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE NIGHTINGALE</h2> +<center>From 'Riverside Literature Series': 1891, by Houghton, +Mifflin & Co.</center> +<br> +<h3>I--THE REAL NIGHTINGALE</h3> +<br> +<p>In China, you must know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all whom +he has about him are Chinamen too. It happened a good many years +ago, but that's just why it's worth while to hear the story before +it is forgotten.</p> +<p>The Emperor's palace was the most splendid in the world. It was +made wholly of fine porcelain, very costly, but so brittle and so +hard to handle that one had to take care how one touched it. In the +garden were to be seen the most wonderful flowers, and to the +prettiest of them silver bells were tied, which tinkled, so that +nobody should pass by without noticing the flowers.</p> +<p>Yes, everything in the Emperor's garden was nicely set out, and +it reached so far that the gardener himself did not know where the +end was. If a man went on and on, he came into a glorious forest +with high trees and deep lakes. The wood went straight down to the +sea, which was blue and deep; great ships could sail to and fro +beneath the branches of the trees; and in the trees lived a +Nightingale, which sang so finely that even the poor Fisherman, who +had many other things to do, stopped still and listened, when he +had gone out at night to throw out his nets, and heard the +Nightingale.</p> +<p>"How beautiful that is!" he said; but he had to attend to his +work, and so he forgot the bird. But the next night, when the bird +sang again, and the Fisherman heard it, he said as before, "How +beautiful that is!"</p> +<p>From all the countries of the world travelers came to the city +of the Emperor, and admired it, and the palace, and the garden; but +when they heard the Nightingale, they all said, "That is the best +of all!"</p> +<p>And the travelers told of it when they came home; and the +learned men wrote many books about the town, the palace, and the +garden. But they did not forget the Nightingale; that was spoken of +most of all; and all those who were poets wrote great poems about +the Nightingale in the wood by the deep lake.</p> +<p>The books went all over the world, and a few of them once came +to the Emperor. He sat in his golden chair, and read, and read; +every moment he nodded his head, for it pleased him to hear the +fine things that were said about the city, the palace, and the +garden. "But the Nightingale is the best of all!"--it stood written +there.</p> +<p>"What's that?" exclaimed the Emperor. "The Nightingale? I don't +know that at all! Is there such a bird in my empire, and in my +garden to boot? I've never heard of that. One has to read about +such things."</p> +<p>Hereupon he called his Cavalier, who was so grand that if any +one lower in rank than he dared to speak to him, or to ask him any +question, he answered nothing but "P!"--and that meant nothing.</p> +<p>"There is said to be a strange bird here called a Nightingale!" +said the Emperor. "They say it is the best thing in all my great +empire. Why has no one ever told me anything about it?"</p> +<p>"I have never heard it named," replied the Cavalier. "It has +never been presented at court."</p> +<p>"I command that it shall come here this evening, and sing before +me," said the Emperor. "All the world knows what I have, and I do +not know it myself!"</p> +<p>"I have never heard it mentioned," said the Cavalier. "I will +seek for it. I will find it."</p> +<p>But where was it to be found? The Cavalier ran up and down all +the stairs, through halls and passages, but no one among all those +whom he met had heard talk of the Nightingale. And the Cavalier ran +back to the Emperor, and said that it must be a fable made up by +those who write books.</p> +<p>"Your Imperial Majesty must not believe what is written. It is +fiction, and something that they call the black art."</p> +<p>"But the book in which I read this," said the Emperor, "was sent +to me by the high and mighty Emperor of Japan, and so it cannot be +a falsehood. I will hear the Nightingale! It must be here this +evening! It has my high favor; and if it does not come, all the +court shall be trampled upon after it has supped!"</p> +<p>"Tsing-pe!" said the Cavalier; and again he ran up and down all +the stairs, and through all the halls and passages, and half the +court ran with him, for the courtiers did not like being trampled +upon. There was a great inquiry after the wonderful Nightingale, +which all the world knew, but not the people at court.</p> +<p>At last they met with a poor little girl in the kitchen. She +said:--</p> +<p>"The Nightingale? I know it well; yes, how it can sing! Every +evening I get leave to carry my poor sick mother the scraps from +the table. She lives down by the beach, and when I get back and am +tired, and rest in the wood, then I hear the Nightingale sing. And +then the tears come into my eyes, and it is just as if my mother +kissed me!"</p> +<p>"Little Kitchen-girl," said the Cavalier, "I will get you a +fixed place in the kitchen, with leave to see the Emperor dine, if +you will lead us to the Nightingale, for it is promised for this +evening."</p> +<p>So they all went out into the wood where the Nightingale was +wont to sing; half the court went out. When they were on the way, a +cow began to low.</p> +<p>"Oh!" cried the court pages, "now we have it! That shows a great +power in so small a creature! We have certainly heard it +before."</p> +<p>"No, those are cows mooing!" said the little Kitchen-girl. "We +are a long way from the place yet."</p> +<p>Now the frogs began to croak in the marsh.</p> +<p>"Glorious!" said the Chinese Court Preacher. "Now I hear it--it +sounds just like little church bells."</p> +<p>"No, those are frogs!" said the little Kitchen-maid. "But now I +think we shall soon hear it."</p> +<p>And then the Nightingale began to sing.</p> +<p>"That is it!" exclaimed the little Girl. "Listen, listen! and +yonder it sits."</p> +<p>And she pointed to a little gray bird up in the boughs.</p> +<p>"Is it possible?" cried the Cavalier. "I should never have +thought it looked like that! How simple it looks! It must certainly +have lost its color at seeing so many famous people around."</p> +<p>"Little Nightingale!" called the little Kitchen-maid, quite +loudly, "our gracious Emperor wishes you to sing before him."</p> +<p>"With the greatest pleasure!" replied the Nightingale, and sang +so that it was a joy to hear it.</p> +<p>"It sounds just like glass bells!" said the Cavalier. "And look +at its little throat, how it's working! It's wonderful that we +should never have heard it before. That bird will be a great +success at court."</p> +<p>"Shall I sing once more before the Emperor?" asked the +Nightingale, for it thought the Emperor was present.</p> +<p>"My excellent little Nightingale," said the Cavalier, "I have +great pleasure in inviting you to a court festival this evening, +when you shall charm his Imperial Majesty with your beautiful +singing."</p> +<p>"My song sounds best in the greenwood!" replied the Nightingale; +still it came willingly when it heard what the Emperor wished.</p> +<p>In the palace there was a great brushing up. The walls and the +floor, which were of porcelain, shone with many thousand golden +lamps. The most glorious flowers, which could ring clearly, had +been placed in the halls. There was a running to and fro, and a +draught of air, but all the bells rang so exactly together that one +could not hear any noise.</p> +<p>In the midst of the great hall, where the Emperor sat, a golden +perch had been placed, on which the Nightingale was to sit. The +whole court was there, and the little Cook-maid had leave to stand +behind the door, as she had now received the title of a real +cook-maid. All were in full dress, and all looked at the little +gray bird, to which the Emperor nodded.</p> +<p>And the Nightingale sang so gloriously that the tears came into +the Emperor's eyes, and the tears ran down over his cheeks; and +then the Nightingale sang still more sweetly; that went straight to +the heart. The Emperor was happy, and he said the Nightingale +should have his golden slipper to wear round its neck. But the +Nightingale thanked him, it had already got reward enough.</p> +<p>"I have seen tears in the Emperor's eyes--that is the real +treasure to me. An Emperor's tears have a strange power. I am paid +enough!" Then it sang again with a sweet, glorious voice.</p> +<p>"That's the most lovely way of making love I ever saw!" said the +ladies who stood round about, and then they took water in their +mouths to gurgle when any one spoke to them. They thought they +should be nightingales too. And the lackeys and maids let it be +known that they were pleased too; and that was saying a good deal, +for they are the hardest of all to please. In short, the +Nightingale made a real hit.</p> +<p>It was now to remain at court, to have its own cage, with +freedom to go out twice every day and once at night. It had twelve +servants, and they all had a silken string tied to the bird's leg +which they held very tight. There was really no pleasure in going +out.</p> +<p>The whole city spoke of the wonderful bird, and when two people +met, one said nothing but "Nightin," and the other said "gale"; and +then they sighed, and understood one another. Eleven storekeepers' +children were named after the bird, but not one of them could sing +a note.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h3>II--THE TOY NIGHTINGALE</h3> +<br> +<p>One day a large parcel came to the Emperor, on which was written +"The Nightingale."</p> +<p>"Here we have a new book about this famous bird," said the +Emperor.</p> +<p>But it was not a book: it was a little work of art, that lay in +a box; a toy nightingale, which was to sing like a live one, but it +was all covered with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. So soon as +the toy bird was wound up, he could sing one of the pieces that the +real one sang, and then his tail moved up and down, and shone with +silver and gold. Round his neck hung a little ribbon, and on that +was written, "The Emperor of Japan's Nightingale is poor beside +that of the Emperor in China."</p> +<p>"That is capital!" said they all, and he who had brought the toy +bird at once got the title Imperial Head-Nightingale-Bringer.</p> +<p>"Now they must sing together: what a duet that will be!"</p> +<p>And so they had to sing together; but it did not sound very +well, for the real Nightingale sang in its own way, and the toy +bird sang waltzes.</p> +<p>"That's not its fault," said the Play-master: "it's quite +perfect, and very much in my style."</p> +<p>Now the toy bird was to sing alone. It made just as much of a +hit as the real one, and then it was so much more fine to look +at--it shone like bracelets and breastpins.</p> +<p>Three-and-thirty times over did it sing the same piece, and yet +was not tired. The people would gladly have heard it again, but the +Emperor said that the living Nightingale ought to sing a little +something. But where was it? No one had noticed that it had flown +away, out of the open window, back to its green woods.</p> +<p>"But what is become of it?" asked the Emperor.</p> +<p>Then all the courtiers scolded, and thought the Nightingale was +a very thankless creature.</p> +<p>"We have the best bird, after all," said they.</p> +<p>And so the toy bird had to sing again, and this was the +thirty-fourth time they had listened to the same piece. For all +that, they did not know it quite by heart, for it was so very +difficult. And the Play-master praised the bird highly; yes, he +declared that it was better than the real Nightingale, not only in +its feathers and its many beautiful diamonds, but inside as +well.</p> +<p>"For you see, ladies and gentlemen, and above all, your Imperial +Majesty, with the real Nightingale one can never make sure what is +coming, but in this toy bird everything is settled. It is just so, +and not any other way. One can explain it; one can open it, and can +show how much thought went to making it, where the waltzes come +from, how they go, and how one follows another."</p> +<p>"Those are quite our own ideas," they all said. And the +Play-master got leave to show the bird to the people on the next +Sunday. The people were to hear it sing too, said the Emperor; and +they did hear it, and were as much pleased as if they had all had +tea, for that's quite the Chinese fashion; and they all said "Oh!" +and held their forefingers up in the air and nodded. But the poor +Fisherman, who had heard the real Nightingale, said:--</p> +<p>"It sounds pretty enough, and it's a little like, but there's +something wanting, though I know not what!"</p> +<p>The real Nightingale was exiled from the land and empire.</p> +<p>The toy bird had its place on a silken cushion close to the +Emperor's bed. All the presents it had received, gold and precious +stones, were ranged about it. In title it had come to be High +Imperial After-Dinner-Singer, and in rank it was Number One on the +left hand; for the Emperor reckoned that side the most important on +which the heart is placed, and even in an Emperor the heart is on +the left side. And the Play-master wrote a work of five-and-twenty +volumes about the toy bird: it was so learned and so long, full of +the most difficult Chinese words, that all the people said they had +read it and understood it, or else they would have been thought +stupid, and would have had their bodies trampled on.</p> +<p>So a whole year went by. The Emperor, the court, and all the +other Chinese knew every little twitter in the toy bird's song by +heart. But just for that reason it pleased them best--they could +sing with it themselves, and they did so. The street boys sang, +"Tsi-tsi-tsi-glug-glug!" and the Emperor himself sang it too. Yes, +that was certainly famous.</p> +<p>But one evening, when the toy bird was singing its best, and the +Emperor lay in bed and heard it, something inside the bird said, +"Svup!" Something cracked. "Whir-r-r!" All the wheels ran round, +and then the music stopped.</p> +<p>The Emperor jumped at once out of bed, and had his own doctor +called; but what could he do? Then they sent for a watchmaker, and +after a good deal of talking and looking, he got the bird into some +sort of order; but he said that it must be looked after a good +deal, for the barrels were worn, and he could not put new ones in +in such a manner that the music would go. There was a great to-do; +only once in a year did they dare to let the bird sing, and that +was almost too much. But then the Play-master made a little speech, +full of heavy words, and said this was just as good as before--and +so, of course, it was as good as before.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h3>III--THE REAL NIGHTINGALE AGAIN</h3> +<br> +<p>Five years had gone by, and a real grief came upon the whole +nation. The Chinese were really fond of their Emperor, and now he +was sick, and could not, it was said, live much longer. Already a +new Emperor had been chosen, and the people stood out in the street +and asked the Cavalier how their old Emperor did.</p> +<p>"P!" said he, and shook his head.</p> +<p>Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his great, gorgeous bed; the +whole court thought him dead, and each one ran to pay respect to +the new ruler. The chamberlains ran out to talk it over, and the +ladies'-maids had a great coffee party. All about, in all the halls +and passages, cloth had been laid down so that no one could be +heard go by, and therefore it was quiet there, quite quiet. But the +Emperor was not dead yet: stiff and pale he lay on the gorgeous bed +with the long velvet curtains and the heavy gold tassels; high up, +a window stood open, and the moon shone in upon the Emperor and the +toy bird.</p> +<p>The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe; it was just as if +something lay upon his breast. He opened his eyes, and then he saw +that it was Death who sat upon his breast, and had put on his +golden crown, and held in one hand the Emperor's sword, and in the +other his beautiful banner. And all around, from among the folds of +the splendid velvet curtains, strange heads peered forth; a few +very ugly, the rest quite lovely and mild. These were all the +Emperor's bad and good deeds, that stood before him now that Death +sat upon his heart.</p> +<p>"Do you remember this?" whispered one to the other, "Do you +remember that?" and then they told him so much that the sweat ran +from his forehead.</p> +<p>"I did not know that!" said the Emperor. "Music! music! the +great Chinese drum!" he cried, "so that I need not hear all they +say!"</p> +<p>And they kept on, and Death nodded like a Chinaman to all they +said.</p> +<p>"Music! music!" cried the Emperor. "You little precious golden +bird, sing, sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I have +even hung my golden slipper around your neck--now, sing!"</p> +<p>But the bird stood still,--no one was there to wind him up, and +he could not sing without that; but Death kept on staring at the +Emperor with his great hollow eyes, and it was quiet, fearfully +quiet.</p> +<p>Then there sounded close by the window the most lovely song. It +was the little live Nightingale, that sat outside on a spray. It +had heard of the Emperor's need, and had come to sing to him of +trust and hope. And as it sang the spectres grew paler and paler; +the blood ran more and more quickly through the Emperor's weak +limbs, and Death himself listened, and said:--</p> +<p>"Go on, little Nightingale, go on!"</p> +<p>"But will you give me that splendid golden sword? Will you give +me that rich banner? Will you give me the Emperor's crown?"</p> +<p>And Death gave up each of these treasures for a song. And the +Nightingale sang on and on; it sang of the quiet churchyard where +the white roses grow, where the elder-blossom smells sweet, and +where the fresh grass is wet with the tears of mourners. Then Death +felt a longing to see his garden, and floated out at the window in +the form of a cold, white mist.</p> +<p>"Thanks! thanks!" said the Emperor. "You heavenly little bird! I +know you well. I drove you from my land and empire, and yet you +have charmed away the evil faces from my bed, and driven Death from +my heart! How can I pay you?"</p> +<p>"You have paid me!" replied the Nightingale. "I drew tears from +your eyes, the first time I sang--I shall never forget that. Those +are the jewels that make a singer's heart glad. But now sleep and +grow fresh and strong again. I will sing you something."</p> +<p>And it sang, and the Emperor fell into a sweet sleep. Ah! how +mild and refreshing that sleep was! The sun shone upon him through +the windows, when he awoke strong and sound. Not one of his +servants had yet come back, for they all thought that he was dead; +but the Nightingale still sat beside him and sang.</p> +<p>"You must always stay with me," said the Emperor. "You shall +sing as you please; and I'll break the toy bird into a thousand +pieces."</p> +<p>"Not so," replied the Nightingale. "It did well as long as it +could; keep it as you have done till now. I cannot build my nest in +the palace to dwell in it, but let me come when I feel the wish; +then I will sit in the evening on the spray yonder by the window, +and sing for you, so that you may be glad and thoughtful at once. I +will sing of those who are happy and of those who suffer. I will +sing of good and of evil that remain hidden round about you. The +little singing bird flies far around, to the poor fisherman, to the +peasant's roof, to every one who dwells far away from you and from +your court. I love your heart more than your crown, and yet the +crown has an air of sanctity about it. I will come and sing to +you--but one thing you must promise me."</p> +<p>"Everything!" said the Emperor; and he stood there in his royal +robes, which he had put on himself, and pressed the sword which was +heavy with gold to his heart.</p> +<p>"One thing I beg of you: tell no one that you have a little bird +who tells you everything. Then all will go well."</p> +<p>And the Nightingale flew away.</p> +<p>The servants came in to look on their dead Emperor, and--yes, +there he stood, and the Emperor said, "Good-morning!"</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_8"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE MARKET PLACE AT ODENSE (1836)</h2> +<center>From 'The Story of My Life'</center> +<br> +<p>If the reader was a child who lived in Odense, he would just +need to say the words "St. Knud's Fair," and it would rise before +him in the brightest colors, lighted by the beams of childish +fancy.... Somewhere near the middle of the town, five streets meet +and make a little square.... There the town crier, in striped +homespun, with a yellow bandoleer, beat his drum and proclaimed +from a scroll the splendid things to be seen in the town.</p> +<p>"He beats a good drum," said the chamberlain.</p> +<p>"It would delight Spontini and Rossini to hear the fellow," said +William. "Really, Odense at New Year would just suit these +composers. The drums and fifes are in their glory. They drum the +New Year in. Seven or eight little drummers, or fifers, go from +door to door, with troops of children and old women, and they beat +the drum-taps and the reveille. That fetches the pennies. Then when +the New Year is well drummed in the city, they go into the country +and drum for meat and porridge. The drumming in of the New Year +lasts until Lent."</p> +<p>"And then we have new sports," said the chamberlain. "The +fishers come from Stege with a full band, and on their shoulders a +boat with all sorts of flags.... Then they lay a board between two +boats, and on this two of the youngest and spryest wrestle till one +falls into the water.... But all the fun's gone now. When I was +young, there was different sport going. That was a sight! the +corporation procession with the banners and the harlequin atop, and +at Shrovetide, when the butchers led about an ox decked with +ribbons and carnival twigs, with a boy on his back with wings and a +little shirt.... All that's past now, people are got so fine. St. +Knud's Fair is not what it used to be."</p> +<p>"Well, I'm glad it isn't," said William; "but let us go into the +market and look at the Jutlanders, who are sitting with their +pottery amidst the hay."</p> +<p>Just as the various professions in the Middle Ages had each its +quarter, so here the shoemakers had ranged their tables side by +side, and behind them stood the skillful workman in his long coat, +and with his well-brushed felt hat in his hand. Where the +shoemakers' quarter ended, the hatters' began, and there one was in +the midst of the great market where tents and booths formed many +parallel streets. The milliners, the goldsmiths, the pastry cooks, +with booths of canvas and wood, were the chief attractions. Ribbons +and handkerchiefs fluttered. Noise and bustle was everywhere. The +girls from the same village always went in rows, seven or eight +inseparables, with hands fast clasped. It was impossible to break +the chain; and if you tried to pass through, the whole band wound +itself into a clump. Behind the booth was a great space with wooden +shoes, pottery, turners' and saddlers' wares. Rude and rough toys +were spread on tables. Around them children were trying little +trumpets, or moving about the playthings. Country girls twirled and +twisted the work-boxes and themselves many a time before making +their bargain. The air was thick and heavy with odors that were +spiced with the smell of honey-cake.</p> +<p>On Fair day, St. Knud's Church and all its tombs are open to the +public. From whatever side you look at this fine old building it +has something imposing, with its high tower and spire. The interior +produces the same, perhaps a greater, effect. But its full +impression is not felt on entering it, nor until you get to the +main aisle. There all is grand, beautiful, light. The whole +interior is bright with gilding. Up in the high vaulted roof there +shine, since old time, a multitude of golden stars. On both sides, +high up above the side aisles, are great gothic windows from which +the light streams down. The side aisles are painted with oil +portraits, whole families, women and children, all in clerical +dress, with long gowns and deep ruffs. Usually the figures are +ranged by ages, the eldest first and then down to the very +smallest.</p> +<p>They all stand with folded hands, and look piously down before +them, till their colors have gradually faded away in dust.</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_9"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE ANDERSEN JUBILEE AT ODENSE</h2> +<center>From 'The Story of My Life'</center> +<br> +<p>I heard on the morning of December 6th [1867] that the town was +decorated, that all the schools had a holiday, because it was my +festival. I felt myself as humble, meek, and poor as though I stood +before my God. Every weakness or error or sin, in thought, word, +and deed, was revealed to me. All stood out strangely clear in my +soul, as though it were doomsday--and it was my festival. God knows +how humble I felt when men exalted and honored me so.</p> +<p>Then came the first telegram from the Student Club. I saw that +they shared and did not envy my joy. Then came a dispatch from a +private club of students in Copenhagen, and from the Artisans' Club +of Slagelse. You will remember that I went to school in that town, +and was therefore attached to it. Soon followed messages from +sympathetic friends in Aarhuus, in Stege; telegram on telegram from +all around. One of these was read aloud by Privy Councillor Koch. +It was from the king. The assembly burst out in applause. Every +cloud and shadow in my soul vanished!</p> +<p>How happy I was! And yet man must not exalt himself. I was to +feel that I was only a poor child of humanity, bound by the frailty +of earth. I suffered from a dreadful toothache, which was increased +unbearably by the heat and excitement. Yet at evening I read a +Wonder Story for the little friends. Then the deputation came from +the town corporations, with torches and waving banners through the +street, to the guild-hall. And now the prophecy was to be fulfilled +that the old woman gave when I left home as a boy. Odense was to be +illuminated for me. I stepped to the open window. All was aglow +with torchlight, the square was filled with people. Songs swelled +up to me. I was overcome, emotionally. Physically racked with pain, +I could not enjoy this crowning fruit of my life, the toothache was +so intolerable. The ice-cold air that blew against me fanned the +pain to an awful intensity, and, instead of enjoying the bliss of +these never-to-be-repeated moments, I looked at the printed song to +see how many verses had to be sung before I could step away from +the torture which the cold air sent through my teeth. It was the +acme of suffering. As the glow of the piled-up torches subsided, my +pain subsided too. How thankful I was, though! Gentle eyes were +fastened upon me all around. All wanted to speak with me, to press +my hand. Tired out, I reached the bishop's house and sought rest. +But I got no sleep till toward morning, so filled and overflowing +was I.</p> +<a name="ANDERSEN_10"></a><br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>'MISERERE' IN THE SIXTINE CHAPEL</h2> +<center>From 'The Improvisatore': Translation by Mary +Howitt</center> +<br> +<p>On Wednesday afternoon began the Miserere in the Sixtine Chapel. +My soul longed for music; in the world of melody I could find +sympathy and consolation. The throng was great, even within the +chapel--the foremost division was already filled with ladies. +Magnificent boxes, hung with velvet and golden draperies for royal +personages and foreigners from various courts, were here erected so +high that they looked out beyond the richly carved railing which +separated the ladies from the interior of the chapel. The papal +Swiss Guards stood in their bright festal array. The officers wore +light armor, and in their helmets a waving plume.... The old +cardinals entered in their magnificent scarlet velvet cloaks, with +their white ermine capes, and seated themselves side by side in a +great half-circle within the barrier, while the priests who had +carried their trains seated themselves at their feet. By the little +side door of the altar the holy father now entered, in his scarlet +mantle and silver tiara. He ascended his throne. Bishops swung the +vessels of incense around him, while young priests, in scarlet +vestments, knelt, with lighted torches in their hands, before him +and the high altar.</p> +<p>The reading of the lessons began. But it was impossible to keep +the eyes fixed on the lifeless letters of the Missal--they raised +themselves, with the thoughts, to the vast universe which Michael +Angelo has breathed forth in colors upon the ceiling and the walls. +I contemplated his mighty sibyls and wondrously glorious +prophets,--every one of them a subject for a painting. My eyes +drank in the magnificent processions, the beautiful groups of +angels; they were not, to me, painted pictures;--all stood living +before me. The rich tree of knowledge, from which Eve gave the +fruit to Adam; the Almighty God, who floated over the waters,--not +borne up by angels, as the older masters had represented him--no, +the company of angels rested upon him and his fluttering garments. +It is true, I had seen these pictures before, but never as now had +they seized upon me. My excited state of mind, the crowd of people, +perhaps even the lyric of my thoughts, made me wonderfully alive to +poetical impressions; and many a poet's heart has felt as mine +did!</p> +<p>The bold foreshortenings, the determinate force with which every +figure steps forward, is amazing, and carries one quite away! It is +a spiritual Sermon on the Mount, in color and form. Like Raphael, +we stand in astonishment before the power of Michael Angelo. Every +prophet is a Moses, like that which he formed in marble. What giant +forms are those which seize upon our eye and our thoughts as we +enter! But when intoxicated with this view, let us turn our eyes to +the background of the chapel, whose whole wall is a high altar of +art and thought. The great chaotic picture, from the floor to the +roof, shows itself there like a jewel, of which all the rest is +only the setting. We see there the Last Judgment.</p> +<p>Christ stands in judgment upon the clouds, and his Mother and +the Apostles stretch forth their hands beseechingly for the poor +human race. The dead raise the gravestones under which they have +lain; blessed spirits adoring, float upward to God, while the abyss +seizes its victims. Here one of the ascending spirits seeks to save +his condemned brother, whom the abyss already embraces in its snaky +folds. The children of despair strike their clenched fists upon +their brows, and sink into the depths! In bold foreshortenings, +float and tumble whole legions between heaven and earth. The +sympathy of the angels, the expression of lovers who meet, the +child that at the sound of the trumpet clings to the mother's +breast, are so natural and beautiful that one believes one's self +to be among those who are waiting for judgment. Michael Angelo has +expressed in colors what Dante saw and has sung to the generations +of the earth.</p> +<p>The descending sun at that moment threw his last beams in +through the uppermost window. Christ, and the blessed around him, +were strongly lighted up; while the lower part, where the dead +arose, and the demons thrust their boat laden with the damned from +the shore, were almost in darkness.</p> +<p>Just as the sun went down the last lesson was ended, the last +light which now remained was extinguished, and the whole picture +world vanished in the gloom from before me; but in that same moment +burst forth music and singing. That which color had bodily revealed +arose now in sound; the day of judgment, with its despair and its +exultation, resounded above us.</p> +<p>The father of the church, stripped of his papal pomp, stood +before the altar, and prayed to the holy cross; and upon the wings +of the trumpet resounded the trembling choir, 'Populus meus quid +feci tibi?' Soft angel-tones rose above the deep song, tones which +ascended not from a human breast: it was not a man's nor a woman's; +it belonged to the world of spirits; it was like the weeping of +angels dissolved in melody.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ANEURIN"></a>ANEURIN</h2> +<h3>(Sixth Century A.D.)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>mong the triad of singers--Llywarch, prince and bard, Aneurin, +warrior and bard, and Taliessin, bard only--who were among the +followers of the heroic British chief Urien, when he bravely but +unsuccessfully resisted the invasion of the victorious Angles and +Saxons, Aneurin was famous both as poet and warrior. He sang of the +long struggle that eventually was to turn Briton into England, and +celebrated in his 'Gododin' ninety of the fallen Cymric chiefs. The +notes of his life are scanty, and are drawn chiefly from his +allusion to himself in his poem. He was the son of Cwm Cawlwyd, a +chief of the tribe of Gododin. He seems to have been educated at +St. Cadoc's College at Llancarvan, and afterwards entered the +bardic order. As appears from the 'Gododin,' he was present at the +battle of Cattræth both as bard and as priest. He fled, but +was taken prisoner. In his poem he refers to the hardships he +endured in his captivity. After his release he returned to +Llancarvan, Wales, and in his old age he went north to live with +his brother in Galloway. Here he was murdered; his death is +referred to as one of the "three accursed hatchet-strokes of the +isle of Britain." His friendship with Taliessin is commemorated by +both bards.</p> +<p>The 'Gododin' is at once the longest and the most important +composition in early Welsh literature. It has been variously +interpreted, but is thought to celebrate the battle of +Cattræth. This battle was fought in 570 between the Britons, +who had formed a league to defend their country, and their Teutonic +invaders. It "began on a Tuesday, lasted for a week, and ended with +great slaughter of the Britons, who fought desperately till they +perished on the field." Three hundred and sixty chieftains were +slain; only three escaped by flight, among whom was Aneurin, who +afterwards commemorated the slaughter in the 'Gododin,' a lament +for the dead. Ninety-seven of the stanzas remain. In various +measures of alliterative and assonant verse they sing the praises +of ninety of the fallen chiefs, usually giving one stanza to each +hero. One of these stanzas is known to readers of Gray, who +translated it under the name of 'The Death of Hoel.'</p> +<p>Again the 'Gododin' is assumed to be, like many early epic poems +whose origin is wrapped in mystery, not the commemoration of one +single, particular event, but a collection of lays composed at +various times, which compresses into one battle the long and +disastrous period of the Anglo-Saxon invasion, ending in the +subjugation of the Britons.</p> +<p>But whatever its history, the 'Gododin' is one of the finest +monuments of Cymric literature. "In the brevity of the narrative, +the careless boldness of the actors as they present themselves, the +condensed energy of the action, and the fierce exultation of the +slaughter, together with the recurring elegiac note, this poem (or +poems if it be the work of two authors) has some of the highest +epic qualities. The ideas and manners are in harmony with the age +and the country to which it is referred."</p> +<p>Like all early songs, the poem was handed down through centuries +by oral tradition. It is now preserved in the 'Book of Aneurin,' a +small quarto manuscript of nineteen leaves of vellum, of the end of +the thirteenth century.</p> +<p>The 'Gododin' has been published with an English translation and +notes by the Rev. J. Williams (1852); and by the Cymmrodorion +Society, with a translation by Thomas Stevens, in 1885. Interesting +information covering it may be found in Skene's 'Four Ancient Books +of Wales' (1866), and in the article 'Celtic Literature' in this +work.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_SLAYING_OF_OWAIN"></a>THE SLAYING OF OWAIN</h2> +<p>[During the battle a conference was held, at which the British +leaders demanded as a condition of peace that part of the land of +Gododin be restored. In reply, the Saxons killed Owain, one of the +greatest of the Cymric bards. Aneurin thus pictures him:--]</p> +<blockquote>A man in thought, a boy in form,<br> +He stoutly fought, and sought the storm<br> +Of flashing war that thundered far.<br> +His courser, lank and swift, thick-maned,<br> +Bore on his flank, as on he strained,<br> +The light-brown shield, as on he sped,<br> +With golden spur, in cloak of fur,<br> +His blue sword gleaming. Be there said<br> +No word of mine that does not hold thee dear!<br> +Before thy youth had tasted bridal cheer,<br> +The red death was thy bride! The ravens feed<br> +On thee yet straining to the front, to lead.<br> +Owain, the friend I loved, is dead!<br> +Woe is it that on him the ravens feed!</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p><a name="THE_FATE_OF_HOEL_SON_OF_THE_GREAT_CIAN"></a> <b>THE +FATE OF HOEL, SON OF THE GREAT CIAN</b></p> +<p>[From various expressions used by Aneurin in different parts of +his great poem, it is evident that the warriors of whom he sang +fortified themselves, before entering the field of battle, with +unstinted libations of that favorite intoxicant of those days, +sweet mead. He mentions the condition of the warriors as they +started for the fray, and tells of Hoel's fate. This son of Cian +had married the daughter of one of the Bryneish. His marriage +caused no abatement of a feud existing between the tribes to which +the husband and wife respectively belonged. He repudiated her +family, disdained to take her away, and was sought and slain by her +insulted father.]</p> +<blockquote>The warriors marched to Cattræth, full of +mead;<br> +Drunken, but firm of array: great the shame,<br> +But greater the valor no bard can defame.<br> +The war-dogs fought fiercely, red swords seemed to bleed.<br> +Flesh and soul, I had slain thee, myself, had I thought,<br> +Son of Cian, my friend, that thy faith had been bought<br> +By a bribe from the tribe of the Bryneish! But no;<br> +He scorned to take dowry from hands of the foe,<br> +And I, all unhurt, lost a friend in the fight,<br> +Whom the wrath of a father felled down for the slight.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p><a name="THE_GIANT_GWRVELING_FALLS_AT_LAST"></a> <b>THE GIANT +GWRVELING FALLS AT LAST</b></p> +<p>[The bard tells the story of Gwrveling's revelry, impulsive +bravery,<br> +and final slaughter of the foe before yielding to their +prowess.]</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Light of lights--the sun,</p> +<p class="i1">Leader of the day,</p> +<p>First to rise and run</p> +<p class="i1">His appointed way,</p> +<p>Crowned with many a ray,</p> +<p class="i1">Seeks the British sky;</p> +<p>Sees the flight's dismay,</p> +<p class="i1">Sees the Britons fly.</p> +<p>The horn in Eiddin's hall</p> +<p class="i1">Had sparkled with the wine,</p> +<p>And thither, at a call</p> +<p class="i1">To drink and be divine,</p> +<p>He went, to share the feast</p> +<p class="i1">Of reapers, wine and mead.</p> +<p>He drank, and so increased</p> +<p class="i1">His daring for wild deed.</p> +<p>The reapers sang of war</p> +<p class="i1">That lifts its shining wings,</p> +<p class="i1">Its shining wings of fire,</p> +<p>Its shields that flutter far.</p> +<p>The bards, too, sang of war,</p> +<p>Of plumed and crested war;</p> +<p>The song rose ever higher.</p> +<p class="i3">Not a shield</p> +<p class="i2">Escapes the shock,</p> +<p class="i3">To the field</p> +<p class="i2">They fiercely flock,--</p> +<p class="i3">There to fall.</p> +<p class="i3">But of all</p> +<p>Who struck on giant Gwrveling,</p> +<p>Whom he would he struck again,</p> +<p>All he struck in grave were lain,</p> +<p>Ere the bearers came to bring</p> +<p>To his grave stout Gwrveling.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ANGLO-SAXON_LITERATURE"></a>ANGLO-SAXON +LITERATURE</h2> +<h3>BY ROBERT SHARP</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he earliest recorded utterances of a race, whether in poetry or +in prose, become to the representatives of this race in later days +a treasure beyond price. The value of such monuments of the remote +past is manifold. In them we first begin to become really +acquainted with ancestors of the people of to-day, even though we +may have read in the pages of earlier writers of alien descent much +that is of great concurrent interest. Through the medium of the +native saga, epic, and meagre chronicle, we see for the first time +their real though dim outlines, moving in and out of the mists that +obscure the dawn of history; and these outlines become more and +more distinct as the literary remains of succeeding periods become +more abundant and present more varied aspects of life. We come +gradually to know what manner of men and women were these +ancestors, what in peace and in war were their customs, what their +family and social relations, their food and drink, their dress, +their systems of law and government, their religion and morals, +what were their art instincts, what were their ideals.</p> +<p>This is essential material for the construction of history in +its complete sense. And this evidence, when subjected to judicious +criticism, is trustworthy; for the ancient story-teller and poet +reflects the customs and ideas and ideals of his own time, even +though the combination of agencies and the preternatural +proportions of the actors and their deeds belong to the +imagination. The historian must know how to supplement and to give +life and interest to the colorless succession of dates, names, and +events of the chronicler, by means of these imaginative yet +truth-bearing creations of the poet.</p> +<p>Remnants of ancient poetry and legend have again an immediate +value in proportion as they exhibit a free play of fine +imagination; that is, according as they possess the power of +stirring to response the aesthetic feeling of subsequent ages,--as +they possess the true poetic quality. This gift of imagination +varies greatly among races as among individuals, and the earliest +manifestations of it frequently throw a clear light upon apparently +eccentric tendencies developed in a literature in later times.</p> +<p>For these reasons, added to a natural family pride in them, the +early literary monuments of the Anglo-Saxons should be cherished by +us as among the most valued possessions of the race.</p> +<p>The first Teutonic language to be reduced to writing was the +Moeso-Gothic. Considerable portions of a translation of the Bible +into that language, made by Bishop Ulfilas in the fourth century, +still remain. But this cannot be called the beginning of a +literature; for there is no trace of original creative impulse. The +Gothic movement, too, seems to have ceased immediately after its +beginning. It is elsewhere that we must seek for the rise of a real +Teutonic literature. We shall not find it till after the lapse of +several centuries; and we find it not among the tribes that +remained in the fatherland, nor with those that had broken into and +conquered parts of the Roman empire, only to be absorbed and to +blend with other races into Romanic nations. The proud distinction +belongs to the Low German tribes that had created an England in +Britain.</p> +<p>The conquest of Britain by the Anglo-Saxons, begun in 449, +seemed at first to promise only retrogression and the ruin of an +existing civilization. These fierce barbarians found among the +Celts of Britain a Roman culture, and the Christian religion +exerting its influence for order and humanity. Their mission seemed +to be to destroy both. In their original homes in the forests of +northern Germany, they had come little if at all into contact with +Roman civilization. At any rate, we may assume that they had felt +no Roman influence capable of stemming their national and ethnical +tendencies. We cannot yet solve the difficult problem of the extent +of their mingling with the conquered Celts in Britain. In spite of +learned opinions to the contrary, the evidence now available seems +to point to only a small infusion of Celtic blood. The conquerors +seem to have settled down to their new homes with all the +heathenism and most of the barbarism they had brought from their +old home, a Teutonic people still.</p> +<p>In these ruthless, plundering barbarians, whose very breath was +battle, and who seemed for the time the very genius of disorder and +ruin, there existed, nevertheless, potentialities of humanity, +order, and enlightenment far exceeding those of the system they +displaced. In all their barbarism there was a certain nobility; +their courage was unflinching; the fidelity, even unto death, of +thane to lord, repaid the open-handed generosity of lord to thane; +they honored truth; and even after we allow for the exaggerated +claims made for a chivalrous devotion that did not exist, we find +that they held their women in higher respect than was usual even +among many more enlightened peoples.</p> +<p>There are few more remarkable narratives in history than that of +the facility and enthusiasm with which the Anglo-Saxons, a people +conservative then as now to the degree of extreme obstinacy, +accepted Christianity and the new learning which followed in the +train of the new religion. After a few lapses into paganism in some +localities, we find these people, who lately had swept Christian +Britain with fire and sword, themselves became most zealous +followers of Christ. Under the influence of the Roman missionaries +who, under St. Augustine, had begun their work in the south in 597 +among the Saxons and Jutes, and under the combined influence of +Irish and Roman missionaries in the north and east among the +Angles, theological and secular studies were pursued with avidity. +By the end of the seventh century we find Anglo-Saxon missionaries, +with St. Boniface at their head, carrying Christianity and +enlightenment to the pagan German tribes on the Continent.</p> +<p>The torch had been passed to the Anglo-Saxon, and a new centre +of learning, York,--the old Roman capital, now the chief city of +the Northumbrian Angles,--became famous throughout Europe. Indeed, +York seemed for a time the chief hope for preserving and advancing +Christian culture; for the danger of a relapse into dense ignorance +had become imminent in the rest of Europe. Bede, born about 673, a +product of this Northumbrian culture, represented the highest +learning of his day. He wrote a vast number of works in Latin, +treating nearly all the branches of knowledge existing in his day. +Alcuin, another Northumbrian, born about 735, was called by +Charlemagne to be tutor for himself and his children, and to +organize the educational system of his realm. Other great names +might be added to show the extent and brilliancy of the new +learning. It was more remarkable among the Angles; and only at a +later day, when the great schools of the north had gone up in fire +and smoke in the pitiless invasion of the Northmen, did the West +Saxons become the leaders, almost the only representatives, of the +literary impulse among the Anglo-Saxons.</p> +<p>It is significant that the first written English that we know of +contains the first Christian English king's provision for peace and +order in his kingdom. The laws of Athelbert, King of Kent, who died +in 616, were written down early in the seventh century. This code, +as it exists, is the oldest surviving monument of English prose. +The laws of Ine, King of the West Saxons, were put into writing +about 690. These collections can scarcely be said to have a +literary value; but they are of the utmost importance as throwing +light upon the early customs of our race, and the laws of Ine may +be considered as the foundation of modern English law. Many of +these laws were probably much older; but they were now first +codified and systematically enforced. The language employed is +direct, almost crabbed; but occasionally the Anglo-Saxon love of +figure shows itself. To illustrate, I quote, after Brooke, from +Earle's 'Anglo-Saxon Literature,' page 153:--</p> +<blockquote>"In case any one burn a tree in a wood, and it came to +light who did it, let him pay the full penalty, and give sixty +shillings, <i>because fire is a thief</i>. If one fell in a wood +ever so many trees, and it be found out afterwards, let him pay for +three trees, each with thirty shillings. He is not required to pay +for more of them, however many they may be, <i>because the axe is a +reporter, and not a thief</i>." [The italicized sentences are +evidently current sayings.]</blockquote> +<p>But even these remains, important and interesting as they are, +may not be called the beginning of a vernacular literature. It is +among the Angles of Northumbria that we shall find the earliest +native and truly literary awakening in England. Here we perceive +the endeavor to do something more than merely to aid the memory of +men in preserving necessary laws and records of important events. +The imagination had become active. The impulse was felt to give +expression to deep emotions, to sing the deeds and noble character +of some hero embodying the loftiest ideals of the time and the +race, to utter deep religious feeling. There was an effort to do +this in a form showing harmony in theme and presentation. Here we +find displayed a feeling for art, often crude, but still a true and +native impulse. This activity produced or gave definite form to the +earliest Anglo-Saxon poetry, a poetry often of a very high quality; +perhaps never of the highest, but always of intense interest. We +may claim even a greater distinction for the early fruit of +Anglo-Saxon inspiration. Mr. Stopford Brooke says:--"With the +exception of perhaps a few Welsh and Irish poems, it is the only +vernacular poetry in Europe, outside of the classic tongues, which +belongs to so early a time as the seventh and eighth +centuries."</p> +<p>The oldest of these poems belong in all save their final form to +the ancient days in Northern Germany. They bear evidence of +transmission, with varying details, from gleeman to gleeman, till +they were finally carried over to England and there edited, often +with discordant interpolations and modifications, by Christian +scribes. Tacitus tells us that at his time songs or poems were a +marked feature in the life of the Germans; but we cannot trace the +clue further. To these more ancient poems many others were added by +Christian Northumbrian poets, and we find that a large body of +poetry had grown up in the North before the movement was entirely +arrested by the destroying Northmen. Not one of these poems, unless +we except a few fragmentary verses, has come down to us in the +Northumbrian dialect. Fortunately they had been transcribed by the +less poetically gifted West Saxons into theirs, and it is in this +form that we possess them.</p> +<p>This poetry shows in subject and in treatment very considerable +range. We have a great poem, epic in character; poems partly +narrative and partly descriptive; poems that may be classed as +lyric or elegiac in character; a large body of verse containing a +paraphrase of portions of the Bible; a collection of 'Riddles'; +poems on animals, with morals; and others difficult to +classify.</p> +<p>The regular verse-form was the alliterative, four-accent line, +broken by a strongly marked cæsura into two half-lines, which +were in early editions printed as short lines. The verse was +occasionally extended to six accents. In the normal verse there +were two alliterated words in the first half of the line, each of +which received a strong accent; in the second half there was one +accented word in alliteration with the alliterated words in the +first half, and one other accented word not in alliteration. A +great license was allowed as to the number of unaccented syllables, +and as to their position in regard to the accented ones; and this +lent great freedom and vigor to the verse. When well constructed +and well read, it must have been very effective. There were of +course many variations from the normal number, three, of +alliterated words, as it would be impossible to find so many for +every line.</p> +<p>Something of the quality of this verse-form may be felt in +translations which aim at the same effect. Notice the result in the +following from Professor Gummere's version of as election from +'Beowulf':--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Then the warriors went, as the way was showed to them,</p> +<p class="i3">Under Heorot's roof; the hero stepped,</p> +<p class="i3">Hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>In these verses it will be noted that the alliteration is +complete in the first and third, and that in the second it is +incomplete.</p> +<p>A marked feature of the Anglo-Saxon poetry is parallelism, or +the repetition of an idea by means of new phrases or epithets, most +frequently within the limits of a single sentence. This proceeds +from the desire to emphasize attributes ascribed to the deity, or +to some person or object prominent in the sentence. But while the +added epithets have often a cumulative force, and are picturesque, +yet it must be admitted that they sometimes do not justify their +introduction. This may be best illustrated by an example. The +following, in the translation of Earle, is Cædmon's first +hymn, composed between 658 and 680, and the earliest piece of +Anglo-Saxon poetry that we know to have had its origin in +England:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i1">"Now shall we glorify the guardian of heaven's +realm,</p> +<p class="i1">The Maker's might and the thought of his mind;</p> +<p class="i1">The work of the Glory-Father, how He of every +wonder,</p> +<p class="i3">He, the Lord eternal, laid the foundation.</p> +<p class="i3">He shaped erst for the sons of men</p> +<p class="i3">Heaven, their roof, Holy Creator;</p> +<p class="i3">The middle world, He, mankind's sovereign,</p> +<p class="i3">Eternal captain, afterwards created,</p> +<p class="i3">The land for men, Lord Almighty."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Many of the figurative expressions are exceedingly vigorous and +poetic; some to our taste not so much so. Note the epithets in "the +lank wolf," "the wan raven," "bird greedy for slaughter," "the +dewy-winged eagle," "dusky-coated," "crooked-beaked," +"horny-beaked," "the maid, fair-cheeked," "curly-locked," +"elf-bright." To the Anglo-Saxon poet, much that we call +metaphorical was scarcely more than literal statement. As the +object pictured itself to his responsive imagination, he expressed +it with what was to him a direct realism. His lines are filled with +a profusion of metaphors of every degree of effectiveness. To him +the sea was "the water-street," "the swan-path," "the strife of the +waves," "the whale-path"; the ship was "the foamy-necked floater," +"the wave-farer," "the sea-wood," "the sea-horse"; the arrow was +"the battle adder"; the battle was "spear-play," "sword-play"; the +prince was "the ring-giver," "the gold-friend"; the throne was "the +gift-stool"; the body, "the bone-house"; the mind, "the +breast-hoard."</p> +<p>Indeed, as it has been pointed out by many writers, the metaphor +is almost the only figure of the Anglo-Saxon poetry. The more +developed simile belongs to a riper and more reflective culture, +and is exceedingly rare in this early native product. It has been +noted that 'Beowulf,' a poem of three thousand one hundred and +eighty-four lines, contains only four or five simple similes, and +only one that is fully carried out. "The ship glides away likest to +a bird," "The monster's eyes gleam like fire," are simple examples +cited by Ten Brink, who gives also the elaborate one, "The +sword-hilt melted, likened to ice, when the Father looseneth the +chain of frost, and unwindeth the wave-ropes." But even this simile +is almost obliterated by the crowding metaphors.</p> +<p>Intensity, an almost abrupt directness, a lack of explanatory +detail, are more general characteristics, though in greatly varying +degrees. As some critic has well said, the Anglo-Saxon poet seems +to presuppose a knowledge of his subject-matter by those he +addresses. Such a style is capable of great swiftness of movement, +and is well suited to rapid description and narrative; but at times +roughness or meagreness results.</p> +<p>The prevailing tone is one of sadness. In the lyric poetry, this +is so decided that all the Anglo-Saxon lyrics have been called +elegies. This note seems to be the echo of the struggle with an +inhospitable climate, dreary with rain, ice, hail, and snow; and of +the uncertainties of life, and the certainty of death. Suffering +was never far off, and everything was in the hands of Fate. This is +true at least of the earlier poetry, and the note is rarely absent +even in the Christian lyrics. A more cheerful strain is sometimes +heard, as in the 'Riddles,' but it is rather the exception; and any +alleged humor is scarcely more than a suspicion. Love and +sentiment, in the modern sense, are not made the subject of +Anglo-Saxon poetry, and this must mean that they did not enter into +the Anglo-Saxon life with the same intensity as into modern life. +The absence of this beautiful motive has, to some degree, its +compensation in the exceeding moral purity of the whole literature. +It is doubtful whether it has its equal in this respect.</p> +<p>Anglo-Saxon prose displays, as a general thing, a simple, +direct, and clear style. There is, of course, a considerable +difference between the prose of the earlier and that of the later +period, and individual writers show peculiarities. It displays +throughout a marked contrast with the poetic style, in its freedom +from parallelisms in thought and phrase, from inversions, +archaisms, and the almost excessive wealth of metaphor and epithet. +In its early stages, there is apparent perhaps a poverty of +resource, a lack of flexibility; but this charge cannot be +sustained against the best prose of the later period. In the +translations from the Latin it shows a certain stiffness, and +becomes sometimes involved, in the too conscientious effort of the +translator to follow the classic original.</p> +<p>No attempt will be made here to notice, or even to name, all the +large number of literary works of the Anglo-Saxons. It must be +sufficient to examine briefly a few of the most important and +characteristic productions of this really remarkable and prolific +movement.</p> +<p>The 'Song of Widsith, the Far Traveler,' is now generally +conceded to be, in part at least, the oldest existing Anglo-Saxon +poem. We do not know when it assumed its present form; but it is +certain that it was after the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons, since +it has interpolations from the Christian scribe. The poem seems to +give evidence of being a growth from an original song by a +wandering scôp, or poet, who claims to have visited the +Gothic king Eormanric, "the grim violator of treaties," who died in +375 or 376. But other kings are mentioned who lived in the first +half of the sixth century. It is probable, then, that it was begun +in the fourth century, and having been added to by successive +gleemen, as it was transmitted orally, was finally completed in the +earlier part of the sixth. It was then carried over to England, and +there first written down in Northumbria. It possesses great +interest because of its antiquity, and because of the light it +throws upon the life of the professional singer in those ancient +times among the Teutons. It has a long list of kings and places, +partly historical, partly mythical or not identified. The poem, +though narrative and descriptive, is also lyrical. We find here the +strain of elegiac sadness, of regretful retrospection, so generally +present in Anglo-Saxon poetry of lyric character, and usually much +more pronounced than in 'Widsith.'</p> +<p>'Beowulf' is, in many respects, the most important poetical +monument of the Anglo-Saxons. The poem is undoubtedly of heathen +origin, and the evidence that it was a gradual growth, the result +of grouping several distinct songs around one central figure, seems +unmistakable. We may trace it, in its earliest stages, to the +ancient home of the Angles in North Germany. It was transplanted to +England in the migration of the tribes, and was edited in the +present form by some unknown Northumbrian poet. When this occurred +we do not know certainly, but there seems good reason for assuming +the end of the seventh or the beginning of the eighth century as +the time.</p> +<p>The poem is epic in cast and epic in proportion. Although, +judged by the Homeric standard, it falls short in many respects of +the complete form, yet it may without violence be called an epic. +The central figure, Beowulf, a nobly conceived hero, possessing +immense strength, unflinching courage, a never-swerving sense of +honor, magnanimity, and generosity, the friend and champion of the +weak against evil however terrible, is the element of unity in the +whole poem. It is in itself a great honor to the race that they +were able to conceive as their ideal a hero so superior in all that +constitutes true nobility to the Greek ideal, Achilles. It is true +that the poem consists of two parts, connected by little more than +the fact that they have the same hero at different times of life; +that episodes are introduced that do not blend perfectly into the +unity of the poem; and that there is a lack of repose and sometimes +of lucidity. Yet there is a dignity and vigor, and a large +consistency in the treatment of the theme, that is epic. Ten Brink +says:--"The poet's intensity is not seldom imparted to the +listener.... The portrayals of battles, although much less +realistic than the Homeric descriptions, are yet at times superior +to them, in so far as the demoniac rage of war elicits from the +Germanic fancy a crowding affluence of vigorous scenes hastily +projected in glittering lights of grim half gloom." In addition to +its great poetic merit, 'Beowulf' is of the greatest importance to +us on account of the many fine pictures of ancient Teutonic life it +presents.</p> +<p>In the merest outline, the argument of 'Beowulf' is as +follows:--Hrothgar, King of the Gar-Danes, has built a splendid +hall, called Heorot. This is the scene of royal festivity until a +monster from the fen, Grendel, breaks into it by night and devours +thirty of the king's thanes. From that time the hall is desolate, +for no one can cope with Grendel, and Hrothgar is in despair. +Beowulf, the noble hero of the Geats, in Sweden, hears of the +terrible calamity, and with fourteen companions sails across the +sea to undertake the adventure. Hrothgar receives him joyfully, and +after a splendid banquet gives Heorot into his charge. During the +following night, Beowulf is attacked by Grendel; and after one of +his companions has been slain, he tears out the arm of the monster, +who escapes, mortally hurt, to his fen. On the morrow all is +rejoicing; but when night falls, the monster's mother attacks +Heorot, and kills Hrothgar's favorite thane. The next day, Beowulf +pursues her to her den under the waters of the fen, and after a +terrific combat slays her. The hero returns home to Sweden laden +with gifts. This ends the main thread of the first incident. In the +second incident, after an interval of fifty years, we find Beowulf +an old man. He has been for many years king of the Geats. A +fire-breathing dragon, the guardian of a great treasure, is +devastating the land. The heroic old king, accompanied by a party +of thanes, attacks the dragon. All the thanes save one are +cowardly; but the old hero, with the aid of the faithful one, slays +the dragon, not, however, till he is fatally injured. Then follow +his death and picturesque burial.</p> +<p>In this sketch, stirring episodes, graphic descriptions, and +fine effects are all sacrificed. The poem itself is a noble one and +the English people may well be proud of preserving in it the first +epic production of the Teutonic race.</p> +<p>The 'Fight at Finnsburg' is a fine fragment of epic cast. The +Finn saga is at least as old as the Beowulf poem, since the gleeman +at Hrothgar's banquet makes it his theme. From the fragment and the +gleeman's song we perceive that the situation here is much more +complex than is usual in Anglo-Saxon poems, and involves a tragic +conflict of passion. Hildeburh's brother is slain through the +treachery of her husband, Finn; her son, partaking of Finn's +faithlessness, falls at the hands of her brother's men; in a +subsequent counterplot, her husband is slain. Besides the +extraordinary vigor of the narrative, the theme has special +interest in that a woman is really the central figure, though not +treated as a heroine.</p> +<p>A favorite theme in the older lyric poems is the complaint of +some wandering scôp, driven from his home by the exigencies +of those perilous times. Either the singer has been bereft of his +patron by death, or he has been supplanted in his favor by some +successful rival; and he passes in sorrowful review his former +happiness, and contrasts it with his present misery. The oldest of +these lyrics are of pagan origin, though usually with Christian +additions.</p> +<p>In the 'Wanderer,' an unknown poet pictures the exile who has +fled across the sea from his home. He is utterly lonely. He must +lock his sorrow in his heart. In his dream he embraces and kisses +his lord, and lays his head upon his knee, as of old. He awakes, +and sees nothing but the gray sea, the snow and hail, and the birds +dipping their wings in the waves. And so he reflects: the world is +full of care; we are all in the hands of Fate. Then comes the +Christian sentiment: happy is he who seeks comfort with his Father +in heaven, with whom alone all things are enduring.</p> +<p>Another fine poem of this class, somewhat similar to the +'Wanderer,' is the 'Seafarer.' It is, however, distinct in detail +and treatment, and has its own peculiar beauty. In the 'Fortunes of +Men,' the poet treats the uncertainty of all things earthly, from +the point of view of the parent forecasting the ill and the good +the future may bring to his sons. 'Deor's Lament' possesses a +genuine lyrical quality of high order. The singer has been +displaced by a rival, and finds consolation in his grief from +reciting the woes that others have endured, and reflects in each +instance, "That was got over, and so this may be." Other poems on +other subjects might be noticed here; as 'The Husband's Message,' +where the love of husband for wife is the theme, and 'The Ruin,' +which contains reflections suggested by a ruined city.</p> +<p>It is a remarkable fact that only two of these poets are known +to us by name, Cædmon and Cynewulf. We find the story of the +inspiration, work, and death of Cædmon, the earlier of these, +told in the pages of Bede. The date of his birth is not given, but +his death fell in 680. He was a Northumbrian, and was connected in +a lay capacity with the great monastery of Whitby. He was +uneducated, and not endowed in his earlier life with the gift of +song. One night, after he had fled in mortification from a feast +where all were required to improvise and sing, he received, as he +slept, the divine inspiration. The next day he made known his new +gift to the authorities of the monastery. After he had triumphantly +made good his claims, he was admitted to holy orders, and began his +work of paraphrasing into noble verse portions of the Scriptures +that were read to him. Of the body of poetry that comes down to us +under his name, we cannot be sure that any is his, unless we except +the short passage given here. It is certainly the work of different +poets, and varies in merit. The evidence seems conclusive that he +was a poet of high order, that his influence was very great, and +that many others wrote in his manner. The actors and the scenery of +the Cædmonian poetry are entirely Anglo-Saxon, only the names +and the outline of the narrative being biblical; and the spirit of +battle that breathes in some passages is the same that we find in +the heathen epic.</p> +<p>Cynewulf was most probably a Northumbrian, though this is +sometimes questioned. The dates of his birth and death are unknown. +It seems established, however, that his work belongs to the eighth +century. A great deal of controversy has arisen over a number of +poems that have been ascribed to him and denied to him with equal +persistency. But we stand upon sure ground in regard to four poems, +the 'Christ,' the 'Fates of the Apostles,' 'Juliana,' and 'Elene'; +for he has signed them in runes. If the runic enigma in the first +of the 'Riddles' has been correctly interpreted, then they, or +portions of them, are his also. But about this there is much doubt. +The 'Andreas' and the 'Dream of the Rood' may be mentioned as being +of exceptional interest among the poems that are almost certainly +his. In the latter, he tells, in a personal strain, the story of +the appearance to him of the holy cross, and of his conversion and +dedication of himself to the service of Christ. The 'Elene,' +generally considered the finest of his poems, is the story of the +miraculous finding of the holy cross by St. Helena, the mother of +the Emperor Constantine. The poet has lent great charm to the +tradition in his treatment. The poem sounds a triumphant note +throughout, till we reach the epilogue, where the poet speaks in +his own person and in a sadder tone.</p> +<p>The quality of Cynewulf's poetry is unequal; but when he is at +his best, he is a great poet and a great artist. His personality +appears in direct subjective utterance more plainly than does that +of any other Anglo-Saxon poet.</p> +<p>While we must pass over many fine Anglo-Saxon poems without +mention, there are two that must receive some notice. 'Judith' is +an epic based upon the book of Judith in the 'Apocrypha.' Only +about one-fourth of it has survived. The author is still unknown, +in spite of many intelligent efforts to determine to whom the honor +belongs. The dates assigned to it vary from the seventh to the +tenth century; here, too, uncertainty prevails: but we are at least +sure that it is one of the best of the Anglo-Saxon poems. It has +been said that this work shows a more definite plan and more +conscious art than any other Anglo-Saxon poem. Brooke finds it +sometimes conventional in the form of expression, and denies it the +highest rank for that reason. But he does not seem to sustain the +charge. The two principal characters, the dauntless Judith and the +brutal Holofernes, stand out with remarkable distinctness, and a +fine dramatic quality has been noted by several critics. The +epithets and metaphors, the description of the drunken debauch, and +the swift, powerful narrative of the battle and the rout of the +Assyrians, are in the best Anglo-Saxon epic strain. The poem is +distinctly Christian; for the Hebrew heroine, with a naïve +anachronism, prays thus: "God of Creation, Spirit of Consolation, +Son of the Almighty, I pray for Thy mercy to me, greatly in need of +it. Glory of the Trinity."</p> +<p>'The Battle of Maldon' is a ballad, containing an account of a +fight between the Northmen and the East Saxons under the Aldorman, +Byrhtnoth. The incident is mentioned in one MS. of the Chronicle +under the date of 991; in another, under the date of 993. The poem +is exceedingly graphic. The poet seems filled with intense feeling, +and may have been a spectator, or may indeed have taken part in the +struggle. He tells how the brave old Aldorman disdains to use the +advantage of his position, which bade fair to give him victory. +Like a boy, he cannot take a dare, but fatuously allows the enemy +to begin the battle upon an equal footing with his own men. He pays +for his noble folly with his life and the defeat of his army. The +devotion of the Aldorman's hearth-companions, who refuse to survive +their lord, and with brave words meet their death, is finely +described. But not all are true; some, who have been especially +favored, ignobly flee. These are treated with the racial contempt +for cowards. The poem has survived in fragmentary form, and the +name of the poet is not known.</p> +<p>As distinguished from all poetical remains of such literature, +the surviving prose of the Anglo-Saxons, though extensive, and of +the greatest interest and value, is less varied in subject and +manner than their poetry. It admits of brief treatment. The +earliest known specimens of Anglo-Saxon prose writing have been +already mentioned. These do not constitute the beginning of a +literature, yet, with the rest of the extensive collection of +Anglo-Saxon laws that has survived, they are of the greatest +importance to students. Earle quotes Dr. Reinhold Schmid as saying, +"No other Germanic nation has bequeathed to us out of its earliest +experience so rich a treasure of original legal documents as the +Anglo-Saxon nation has,"--only another instance of the precocity of +our ancestors.</p> +<p>To the West Saxons belongs nearly the whole of Anglo-Saxon +prose. Whatever may have existed in Northumbria perished in the +inroads of the Northmen, except such parts as may have been +incorporated in West Saxon writings. It will be remembered, +however, that the great Northumbrian prose writers had held to the +Latin as their medium. The West Saxon prose literature may be said +to begin in Alfred's reign.</p> +<p>The most important production that we have to consider is the +famous Anglo-Saxon 'Chronicle.' It covers with more or less +completeness the period from 449 to 1154. This was supplemented by +fanciful genealogies leading back to Woden, or even to Adam. It is +not known when the practice of jotting down in the native speech +notices of contemporary events began, but probably in very early +times. It is believed, however, that no intelligent effort to +collect and present them with order and system was made until the +middle of the ninth century. In the oldest of the seven MSS. in +which it has come down to us, we have the 'Chronicle' to 891, as it +was written down in Alfred's time and probably under his +supervision.</p> +<p>The meagreness of the earliest entries and the crudeness of the +language, together with occasional picturesque force, indicate that +many of them were drawn from current song or tradition. The style +and fullness of the entries differ greatly throughout, as might be +expected, since the 'Chronicle' is the work of so many hands. From +mere bare notices they vary to strong, full narrative and +description. Indeed, the 'Chronicle' contains some of the most +effective prose produced by the Anglo-Saxons; and in one instance, +under the date 937, the annalist describes the battle of Brunanburh +in a poem of considerable merit. But we know the name of no single +contributor.</p> +<p>This 'Chronicle' is the oldest and most important work of the +kind produced outside of the classical languages in Europe. It is +meagre in places, and its entire trustworthiness has been +questioned. But it and Bede's 'Ecclesiastical History,' +supplemented by other Anglo-Saxon writings, constitute the basis of +early English history; and this fact alone entitles it to the +highest rank in importance among ancient documents.</p> +<p>A large body of Anglo-Saxon prose, nearly all of it translation +or adaptation of Latin works, has come down to us under the name of +King Alfred. A peculiar interest attaches to these works. They +belong to a period when the history of England depended more than +at any other time upon the ability and devotion of one man; and +that man, the most heroic and the greatest of English kings, was +himself the author of them.</p> +<p>When Alfred became king, in 871, his throne seemed tottering to +its fall. Practically all the rest of England was at the feet of +the ruthless Northmen, and soon Alfred himself was little better +than a fugitive. But by his military skill, which was successful if +not brilliant, and by his never-wavering devotion and English +persistency, he at last freed the southern part of the island from +his merciless and treacherous enemies, and laid the firm foundation +of West Saxon supremacy. If Alfred had failed in any respect to be +the great king that he was, English history would have been changed +for all time.</p> +<p>Although Alfred had saved his kingdom, yet it was a kingdom +almost in ruins. The hopeful advance of culture had been entirely +arrested. The great centres of learning had been utterly destroyed +in the north, and little remained intact in the south. And even +worse than this was the demoralization of all classes, and an +indisposition to renewed effort. There was, moreover, a great +scarcity of books.</p> +<p>Alfred showed himself as great in peace as in war, and at once +set to work to meet all those difficulties. To supply the books +that were so urgently needed, he found time in the midst of his +perplexing cares to translate from the Latin into the native speech +such works as he thought would supply the most pressing want. This +was the more necessary from the prevailing ignorance of Latin. It +is likely that portions of the works that go under his name were +produced under his supervision by carefully selected co-workers. +But it is certain that in a large part of them we may see the work +of the great Alfred's own hand.</p> +<p>He has used his own judgment in these translations, omitting +whatever he did not think would be immediately helpful to his +people, and making such additions as he thought might be of +advantage. Just these additions have the greatest interest for us. +He translated, for instance, Orosius's 'History'; a work in itself +of inferior worth, but as an attempt at a universal history from +the Christian point of view, he thought it best suited to the needs +of his people. The Anglo-Saxon version contains most interesting +additions of original matter by Alfred. They consist of accounts of +the voyages of Ohtere, a Norwegian, who was the first, so far as we +know, to sail around the North Cape and into the White Sea, and of +Wulfstan, who explored parts of the coast of the Baltic. These +narratives give us our first definite information about the lands +and people of these regions, and appear to have been taken down by +the king directly as related by the explorers. Alfred added to this +'History' also a description of Central Europe, which Morley calls +"the only authentic record of the Germanic nations written by a +contemporary so early as the ninth century."</p> +<p>In Gregory's 'Pastoral Care' we have Alfred's closest +translation. It is a presentation of "the ideal Christian pastor" +(Ten Brink), and was intended for the benefit of the lax +Anglo-Saxon priests. Perhaps the work that appealed most strongly +to Alfred himself was Boethius's 'Consolations of Philosophy'; and +in his full translation and adaptation of this book we see the hand +and the heart of the good king. We shall mention one other work of +Alfred's, his translation of the already frequently mentioned +'Historia Ecclesiastica Anglorum' of the Venerable Bede. This great +work Alfred, with good reason, considered to be of the greatest +possible value to his people; and the king has given it additional +value for us.</p> +<p>Alfred was not a great scholar. The wonder is that, in the +troublous times of his youth, he had learned even the rudiments. +The language in his translations, however, though not infrequently +affected for the worse by the Latin idiom of the original, is in +the main free from ornament of any kind, simple and direct, and +reflects in its sincerity the noble character of the great +king.</p> +<p>The period between the death of Alfred (901) and the end of the +tenth century was deficient in works of literary value, except an +entry here and there in the 'Chronicle.' "Alfric's is the last +great name in the story of our literature before the Conquest," +says Henry Morley. He began writing about the end of the tenth +century, and we do not know when his work and his life ended. This +gentle priest, as he appears to us through his writings, following +Alfred's example, wrote not from personal ambition, but for the +betterment of his fellow-men. His style is eminently lucid, fluent, +forcible, and of graceful finish. Earle observes of it:--"The +English of these Homilies is splendid; indeed, we may confidently +say that here English appears fully qualified to be the medium of +the highest learning." This is high praise, and should be well +considered by those disposed to consider the Anglo-Saxon as a rude +tongue, incapable of great development in itself, and only enabled +by the Norman infusion to give expression to a deep and broad +culture.</p> +<p>Alfric's works in Anglo-Saxon--for he wrote also in Latin--were +very numerous, embracing two series of homilies, theological +writings of many kinds, translations of portions of the Bible, an +English (Anglo-Saxon) grammar, adapted from a Latin work, a Latin +dictionary, and many other things of great use in their day and of +great interest in ours.</p> +<p>The names of other writers and of other single works might well +be added here. But enough has been said, perhaps, to show that a +great and hopeful development of prose took place among the West +Saxons. It must be admitted that the last years of the Anglo-Saxon +nationality before the coming of the Normans show a decline in +literary productiveness of a high order. The causes of this are to +be found chiefly in the political and ecclesiastical history of the +time. Wars with the Northmen, internal dissensions, religious +controversies, the greater cultivation of Latin by the priesthood, +all contributed to it. But hopeful signs of a new revival were not +wanting. The language had steadily developed with the enlightenment +of the people, and was fast becoming fit to meet any demands that +might be made upon it, when the great catastrophe of the Norman +Conquest came, and with it practically the end of the historical +and distinctive Anglo-Saxon literature.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-091.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="FROM_BEOWULF"></a>FROM 'BEOWULF'</h2> +<p>[The Spear-Danes intrust the dead body of King Scyld to the sea, +in a splendidly adorned ship. He had come to them mysteriously, +alone in a ship, when an infant.]</p> +<blockquote>At the hour that was fated<br> +Scyld then departed to the All-Father's keeping<br> +War-like to wend him; away then they bare him<br> +To the flood of the current, his fond-loving comrades.<br> +As himself he had bidden, while the friend of the Scyldings<br> +Word-sway wielded, and the well-lovèd land prince<br> +Long did rule them. The ring-stemmèd vessel,<br> +Bark of the atheling, lay there at anchor,<br> +Icy in glimmer and eager for sailing;<br> +The beloved leader laid they down there,<br> +Giver of rings, on the breast of the vessel,<br> +The famed by the mainmast. A many of jewels,<br> +Of fretted embossings, from far-lands brought over,<br> +Was placed near at hand then; and heard I not ever<br> +That a folk ever furnished a float more superbly<br> +With weapons of warfare, weeds for the battle,<br> +Bills and burnies; on his bosom sparkled<br> +Many a jewel that with him must travel<br> +On the flush of the flood afar on the current.<br> +And favors no fewer they furnished him soothly,<br> +Excellent folk-gems, than others had given him<br> +Lone on the main, the merest of infants:<br> +And a gold-fashioned standard they stretched under heaven<br> +High o'er his head, let the holm-currents bear him,<br> +Seaward consigned him: sad was their spirit,<br> +Their mood very mournful. Men are not able<br> +Soothly to tell us, they in halls who reside,<br> +Heroes under heaven, to what haven he hied.<br> +<br> +<blockquote>They guard the wolf-coverts,</blockquote> +<br> +Lands inaccessible, wind-beaten nesses,<br> +Fearfullest fen-deeps, where a flood from the mountains<br> +'Neath mists of the nesses netherward rattles,<br> +The stream under earth: not far is it henceward<br> +Measured by mile-lengths the mere-water standeth,<br> +Which forests hang over, with frost-whiting covered,<br> +A firm-rooted forest, the floods overshadow.<br> +There ever at night one an ill-meaning portent,<br> +A fire-flood may see; 'mong children of men<br> +None liveth so wise that wot of the bottom;<br> +Though harassed by hounds the heath-stepper seek for,<br> +Fly to the forest, firm-antlered he-deer,<br> +Spurred from afar, his spirit he yieldeth,<br> +His life on the shore, ere in he will venture<br> +To cover his head. Uncanny the place is:<br> +Thence upward ascendeth the surging of waters,<br> +Wan to the welkin, when the wind is stirring<br> +The weather unpleasing, till the air groweth gloomy,<br> +Then the heavens lower.</blockquote> +<p>[Beowulf has plunged into the water of the mere in pursuit of +Grendel's mother, and is a whole day in reaching the bottom. He is +seized by the monster and carried to her cavern, where the combat +ensues.]</p> +<blockquote>The earl then discovered he was down in some cavern<br> +Where no water whatever anywise harmed him,<br> +And the clutch of the current could come not anear him,<br> +Since the roofed-hall prevented; brightness a-gleaming,<br> +Fire-light he saw, flashing resplendent.<br> +The good one saw then the sea-bottom's monster,<br> +The mighty mere-woman: he made a great onset<br> +With weapon-of-battle; his hand not desisted<br> +From striking; the war-blade struck on her head then<br> +A battle-song greedy. The stranger perceived then<br> +The sword would not bite, her life would not injure,<br> +But the falchion failed the folk-prince when straitened:<br> +Erst had it often onsets encountered,<br> +Oft cloven the helmet, the fated one's armor;<br> +'Twas the first time that ever the excellent jewel<br> +Had failed of its fame. Firm-mooded after,<br> +Not heedless of valor, but mindful of glory<br> +Was Higelac's kinsman; the hero-chief angry<br> +Cast then his carved-sword covered with jewels<br> +That it lay on the earth, hard and steel-pointed;<br> +He hoped in his strength, his hand-grapple sturdy.<br> +So any must act whenever he thinketh<br> +To gain him in battle glory unending,<br> +And is reckless of living. The lord of the War-Geats<br> +(He shrank not from battle) seized by the shoulder<br> +The mother of Grendel; then mighty in struggle<br> +Swung he his enemy, since his anger was kindled,<br> +That she fell to the floor. With furious grapple<br> +She gave him requital early thereafter,<br> +And stretched out to grab him; the strongest of warriors<br> +Faint-mooded stumbled, till he fell in his traces,<br> +Foot-going champion. Then she sat on the hall-guest<br> +And wielded her war-knife wide-bladed, flashing,<br> +For her son would take vengeance, her one only bairn,<br> +His breast-armor woven bode on his shoulder;<br> +It guarded his life, the entrance defended<br> +'Gainst sword-point and edges. Ecgtheow's son there<br> +Had fatally journeyed, champion of Geatmen,<br> +In the arms of the ocean, had the armor not given,<br> +Close-woven corselet, comfort and succor,<br> +And had God Most Holy not awarded the victory,<br> +All-knowing lord; easily did heaven's<br> +Ruler most righteous arrange it with justice;<br> +Uprose he erect ready for battle.<br> +Then he saw 'mid the war-gems a weapon of victory,<br> +An ancient giant-sword, of edges a-doughty,<br> +Glory of warriors: of weapons 'twas choicest,<br> +Only 'twas larger than any man else was<br> +Able to bear to the battle-encounter,<br> +The good and splendid work of the giants.<br> +He grasped then the sword-hilt, knight of the Scyldings,<br> +Bold and battle-grim, brandished his ring-sword.<br> +Hopeless of living, hotly he smote her,<br> +That the fiend-woman's neck firmly it grappled,<br> +Broke through her bone-joints, the bill fully pierced her<br> +Fate-cursed body, she fell to the ground then:<br> +The hand-sword was bloody, the hero exulted.</blockquote> +<p>[Fifty years have elapsed. The aged Beowulf has died from the +injuries received in his struggle with the Fire Drake. His body is +burned, and a barrow erected.]</p> +<blockquote>A folk of the Geatmen got him then ready<br> +A pile on the earth strong for the burning,<br> +Behung with helmets, hero-knight's targets,<br> +And bright-shining burnies, as he begged they should have them;<br> +Then wailing war-heroes their world-famous chieftain,<br> +Their liege-lord beloved, laid in the middle.<br> +Soldiers began then to make on the barrow<br> +The largest of dead fires: dark o'er the vapor<br> +The smoke cloud ascended; the sad-roaring fire,<br> +Mingled with weeping (the-wind-roar subsided)<br> +Till the building of bone it had broken to pieces,<br> +Hot in the heart. Heavy in spirit<br> +They mood-sad lamented the men-leader's ruin....<br> +The men of the Weders made accordingly<br> +A hill on the height, high and extensive,<br> +Of sea-going sailors to be seen from a distance,<br> +And the brave one's beacon built where the fire was,<br> +In ten days' space, with a wall surrounded it,<br> +As wisest of world-folk could most worthily plan it.<br> +They placed in the barrow rings and jewels,<br> +All such ornaments as erst in the treasure<br> +War-mooded men had won in possession:<br> +The earnings of earlmen to earth they intrusted,<br> +The gold to the dust, where yet it remaineth<br> +As useless to mortals as in foregoing eras.<br> +'Round the dead-mound rode then the doughty-in-battle,<br> +Bairns of all twelve of the chiefs of the people,<br> +More would they mourn, lament for their ruler,<br> +Speak in measure, mention him with pleasure;<br> +Weighed his worth, and his warlike achievements<br> +Mightily commended, as 'tis meet one praise his<br> +Liege lord in words and love him in spirit,<br> +When forth from his body he fares to destruction.<br> +So lamented mourning the men of the Geats,<br> +Fond loving vassals, the fall of their lord,<br> +Said he was gentlest of kings under heaven,<br> +Mildest of men and most philanthropic,<br> +Friendliest to folk-troops and fondest of honor.</blockquote> +<p>By permission of John Leslie Hall, the Translator, and D.C. +Heath & Co., Publishers.</p> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><b><a name="DEORS_LAMENT"></a>DEOR'S +LAMENT</b></p> +<blockquote>Wayland often wandered in exile,<br> +doughty earl, ills endur'd,<br> +had for comrades care and longing,<br> +winter-cold wandering; woe oft found<br> +since Nithhad brought such need upon him,--<br> +laming wound on a lordlier man. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +In Beadohild's breast, her brothers' death<br> +wrought no such ill as her own disgrace,<br> +when she had openly understood<br> +her maidhood vanished; she might no wise<br> +think how the case could thrive at all. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +We have heard enough of Hild's disgrace;<br> +heroes of Geat were homeless made,<br> +and sorrow stole their sleep away. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +Theodoric held for thirty winters<br> +Mæring's burg, as many have known. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +We have also heard of Ermanric's<br> +wolfish mind; wide was his sway<br> +o'er the Gothic race,--a ruler grim.<br> +Sat many a man in misery bound,<br> +waited but woe, and wish'd amain<br> +that ruin might fall on the royal house. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +Sitteth one sighing, sunder'd from happiness;<br> +all's dark within him; he deems forsooth<br> +that his share of evils shall endless be.<br> +Let such bethink him that thro' this world<br> +mighty God sends many changes:<br> +to earls a plenty honor he shows,<br> +ease and bliss; to others, sorrow.<br> +<br> +Now I will say of myself, and how<br> +I was singer once to the sons of Heoden,<br> +dear to my master, and Deor was my name.<br> +Long were the winters my lord was kind,<br> +happy my lot,--till Heorrenda now<br> +by grace of singing has gained the land<br> +which the "haven of heroes" erewhile gave me. +<blockquote>That pass'd over,--and this may, too!</blockquote> +</blockquote> +<p>Translation of F.B. Gummere in the Atlantic Monthly, February, +1891: by permission of Houghton, Mifflin and Company.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"><a name="FROM_THE_WANDERER"></a><b>FROM 'THE +WANDERER'</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Oft-times the Wanderer waiteth God's mercy,</p> +<p class="i1">Sad and disconsolate though he may be,</p> +<p>Far o'er the watery track must he travel,</p> +<p class="i1">Long must he row o'er the rime-crusted sea--</p> +<p>Plod his lone exile-path--Fate is severe.</p> +<p class="i1">Mindful of slaughter, his kinsman friends' death,</p> +<p class="i1">Mindful of hardships, the wanderer saith:--</p> +<p>Oft must I lonely, when dawn doth appear,</p> +<p class="i1">Wail o'er my sorrow--since living is none</p> +<p class="i1">Whom I may whisper my heart's undertone.</p> +<p>Know I full well that in man it is noble</p> +<p class="i1">Fast in his bosom his sorrow to bind.</p> +<p>Weary at heart, yet his Fate is unyielding--</p> +<p class="i1">Help cometh not to his suffering mind.</p> +<p>Therefore do those who are thirsting for glory</p> +<p class="i1">Bind in their bosom each pain's biting smart.</p> +<p>Thus must I often, afar from my kinsmen,</p> +<p class="i1">Fasten in fetters my home-banished heart.</p> +<p>Now since the day when my dear prince departed</p> +<p class="i1">Wrapped in the gloom of his dark earthen grave,</p> +<p>I, a poor exile, have wandered in winter</p> +<p class="i1">Over the flood of the foam-frozen wave,</p> +<p>Seeking, sad-hearted, some giver of treasure,</p> +<p class="i1">Some one to cherish me friendless--some chief</p> +<p>Able to guide me with wisdom of counsel,</p> +<p class="i1">Willing to greet me and comfort my grief.</p> +<p>He who hath tried it, and he alone, knoweth</p> +<p class="i1">How harsh a comrade is comfortless Care</p> +<p>Unto the man who hath no dear protector,</p> +<p class="i1">Gold wrought with fingers nor treasure so fair.</p> +<p>Chill is his heart as he roameth in exile--</p> +<p class="i1">Thinketh of banquets his boyhood saw spread;</p> +<p>Friends and companions partook of his pleasures--</p> +<p>Knoweth he well that all friendless and lordless</p> +<p class="i1">Sorrow awaits him a long bitter while;--</p> +<p>Yet, when the spirits of Sorrow and Slumber</p> +<p class="i1">Fasten with fetters the orphaned exile,</p> +<p>Seemeth him then that he seeth in spirit,</p> +<p class="i1">Meeteth and greeteth his master once more,</p> +<p>Layeth his head on his lord's loving bosom,</p> +<p class="i1">Just as he did in the dear days of yore.</p> +<p>But he awaketh, forsaken and friendless,</p> +<p class="i1">Seeth before him the black billows rise,</p> +<p>Seabirds are bathing and spreading their feathers,</p> +<p class="i1">Hailsnow and hoar-frost are hiding the skies.</p> +<p>Then in his heart the more heavily wounded,</p> +<p class="i1">Longeth full sore for his loved one, his own,</p> +<p>Sad is the mind that remembereth kinsmen,</p> +<p class="i1">Greeting with gladness the days that are gone.</p> +<p>Seemeth him then on the waves of the ocean</p> +<p class="i1">Comrades are swimming,--well-nigh within reach,--</p> +<p>Yet from the spiritless lips of the swimmers</p> +<p class="i1">Cometh familiar no welcoming speech.</p> +<p>So is his sorrow renewed and made sharper</p> +<p class="i1">When the sad exile so often must send</p> +<p>Thoughts of his suffering spirit to wander</p> +<p class="i1">Wide o'er the waves where the rough billows +blend.</p> +<p>So, lest the thought of my mind should be clouded,</p> +<p class="i1">Close must I prison my sadness of heart,</p> +<p>When I remember my bold comrade-kinsmen,</p> +<p class="i1">How from the mede-hall I saw them depart.</p> +<p>Thus is the earth with its splendor departing--</p> +<p class="i1">Day after day it is passing away,</p> +<p>Nor may a mortal have much of true wisdom</p> +<p class="i1">Till his world-life numbers many a day.</p> +<p>He who is wise, then, must learn to be patient--</p> +<p class="i1">Not too hot-hearted, too hasty of speech,</p> +<p>Neither too weak nor too bold in the battle,</p> +<p class="i1">Fearful, nor joyous, nor greedy to reach,</p> +<p>Neither too ready to boast till he knoweth--</p> +<p class="i1">Man must abide, when he vaunted his pride,</p> +<p>Till strong of mind he hath surely determined</p> +<p class="i1">Whether his purpose can be turned aside.</p> +<p>Surely the wise man may see like the desert</p> +<p class="i1">How the whole wealth of the world lieth waste,</p> +<p>How through the earth the lone walls are still standing,</p> +<p class="i1">Blown by the wind and despoiled and defaced.</p> +<p>Covered with frost, the proud dwellings are ruined,</p> +<p class="i1">Crumbled the wine-halls--the king lieth low,</p> +<p>Robbed of his pride--and his troop have all fallen</p> +<p class="i1">Proud by the wall--some, the spoil of the foe,</p> +<p>War took away--and some the fierce sea-fowl</p> +<p class="i1">Over the ocean--and some the wolf gray</p> +<p>Tore after death--and yet others the hero</p> +<p>Sad-faced has laid in earth-caverns away.</p> +<p>Thus at his will the eternal Creator</p> +<p class="i1">Famished the fields of the earth's ample fold--</p> +<p>Until her dwellers abandoned their feast-boards.</p> +<p class="i1">Void stood the work of the giants of old.</p> +<p>One who was viewing full wisely this wall-place,</p> +<p class="i1">Pondering deeply his dark, dreary life.</p> +<p>Spake then as follows, his past thus reviewing,</p> +<p class="i1">Years full of slaughter and struggle and +strife:--</p> +<p>"Wither, alas, have my horses been carried?</p> +<p class="i1">Whither, alas, are my kinspeople gone?</p> +<p>Where is my giver of treasure and feasting?</p> +<p class="i1">Where are the joys of the hall I have known?</p> +<p>Ah, the bright cup--and the corseleted warrior--</p> +<p class="i1">Ah, the bright joy of a king's happy lot!</p> +<p>How the glad time has forever departed,</p> +<p class="i1">Swallowed in darkness, as though it were not!</p> +<p>Standeth, instead of the troop of young warriors,</p> +<p class="i1">Stained with the bodies of dragons, a wall--</p> +<p>The men were cut down in their pride by the spearpoints--</p> +<p class="i1">Blood-greedy weapons--but noble their fall.</p> +<p>Earth is enwrapped in the lowering tempest,</p> +<p class="i1">Fierce on the stone-cliff the storm rushes forth,</p> +<p>Cold winter-terror, the night shade is dark'ning,</p> +<p class="i1">Hail-storms are laden with death from the north.</p> +<p>All full of hardships is earthly existence--</p> +<p class="i1">Here the decrees of the Fates have their sway--</p> +<p>Fleeting is treasure and fleeting is friendship--</p> +<p class="i1">Here man is transient, here friends pass away.</p> +<p>Earth's widely stretching, extensive domain,</p> +<p class="i1">Desolate all--empty, idle, and vain."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">In 'Modern Language Notes': Translation of W.R. +Sims.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_SEAFARER"></a><b>THE +SEAFARER</b></p> +<blockquote>Sooth the song that I of myself can sing,<br> +Telling of my travels; how in troublous days,<br> +Hours of hardship oft I've borne!<br> +With a bitter breast-care I have been abiding;<br> +Many seats of sorrow in my ship have known!<br> +Frightful was the whirl of waves when it was my part<br> +Narrow watch at night to keep on my Vessel's prow<br> +When it rushed the rocks along. By the rigid cold<br> +Fast my feet were pinched, fettered by the frost,<br> +By the chains of cold. Care was sighing then<br> +Hot my heart around; hunger rent to shreds<br> +Courage in me, me sea-wearied! This the man knows not,<br> +He to whom it happens, happiest on earth,<br> +How I, carked with care, in the ice-cold sea,<br> +Overwent the winter on my wander-ways,<br> +All forlorn of happiness, all bereft of loving kinsmen,<br> +Hung about with icicles; flew the hail in showers.<br> +Nothing heard I there save the howling of the sea,<br> +And the ice-chilled billow, 'whiles the crying of the swan.<br> +All the glee I got me was the gannet's scream,<br> +And the swoughing of the seal, 'stead of mirth of men;<br> +'Stead of the mead-drinking, moaning of the sea-mew.<br> +There the storms smote on the crags, there the swallow of the +sea<br> +Answered to them, icy-plumed; and that answer oft the earn--<br> +Wet his wings were--barked aloud.<br> +<blockquote>None of all my kinsmen</blockquote> +Could this sorrow-laden soul stir to any joy.<br> +Little then does he believe who life's pleasure owns,<br> +While he tarries in the towns, and but trifling ills,<br> +Proud and insolent with wine--how out-wearied I<br> +Often must outstay on the ocean path!<br> +Sombre grew the shade of night, and it snowed from northward,<br> +Frost the field enchained, fell the hail on earth,<br> +Coldest of all grains.<br> +<blockquote>Wherefore now then crash together</blockquote> +Thoughts my soul within that I should myself adventure<br> +The high streamings of the sea, and the sport of the salt +waves!<br> +For a passion of the mind every moment pricks me on<br> +All my life to set a faring; so that far from hence,<br> +I may seek the shore of the strange outlanders.<br> +Yes, so haughty of his heart is no hero on the earth,<br> +Nor so good in all his giving, nor so generous in youth,<br> +Nor so daring in his deed, nor so dear unto his lord,<br> +That he has not always yearning unto his sea-faring,<br> +To whatever work his Lord may have will to make for him.<br> +For the harp he has no heart, nor for having of the rings,<br> +Nor in woman is his weal, in the world he's no delight,<br> +Nor in anything whatever save the tossing o'er the waves!<br> +Oh, forever he has longing who is urged towards the sea.<br> +Trees rebloom with blossoms, burghs are fair again,<br> +Winsome are the wide plains, and the world is gay--<br> +All doth only challenge the impassioned heart<br> +Of his courage to the voyage, whosoever thus bethinks him,<br> +O'er the ocean billows, far away to go.<br> +Every cuckoo calls a warning, with his chant of sorrow!<br> +Sings the summer's watchman, sorrow is he boding,<br> +Bitter in the bosom's hoard. This the brave man wots not of,<br> +Not the warrior rich in welfare--what the wanderer endures,<br> +Who his paths of banishment, widest places on the sea.<br> +For behold, my thought hovers now above my heart;<br> +O'er the surging flood of sea now my spirit flies,<br> +O'er the homeland of the whale--hovers then afar<br> +O'er the foldings of the earth! Now again it flies to me<br> +Full of yearning, greedy! Yells that lonely flier;<br> +Whets upon the Whale-way irresistibly my heart,<br> +O'er the storming of the seas!</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Translation of Stopford Brooke.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_FORTUNES_OF_MEN"></a><b>THE +FORTUNES OF MEN</b></p> +<blockquote>Full often it falls out, by fortune from God,<br> +That a man and a maiden may marry in this world,<br> +Find cheer in the child whom they cherish and care for,<br> +Tenderly tend it, until the time comes,<br> +Beyond the first years, when the young limbs increasing<br> +Grown firm with life's fullness, are formed for their work.<br> +Fond father and mother so guide it and feed it,<br> +Give gifts to it, clothe it: God only can know<br> +What lot to its latter days life has to bring.<br> +To some that make music in life's morning hour<br> +Pining days are appointed of plaint at the close.<br> +One the wild wolf shall eat, hoary haunter of wastes:<br> +His mother shall mourn the small strength of a man.<br> +One shall sharp hunger slay; one shall the storm beat down;<br> +One be destroyed by darts, one die in war.<br> +One shall live losing the light of his eyes,<br> +Feel blindly with fingers; and one, lame of foot,<br> +With sinew-wound wearily wasteth away,<br> +Musing and mourning, with death in his mind.<br> +One, failing feathers, shall fall from the height<br> +Of the tall forest tree; yet he trips as though flying,<br> +Plays proudly in air till he reaches the point<br> +Where the woodgrowth is weak; life then whirls in his brain,<br> +Bereft of his reason he sinks to the root,<br> +Falls flat on the ground, his life fleeting away.<br> +Afoot on the far-ways, his food in his hand,<br> +One shall go grieving, and great be his need,<br> +Press dew on the paths of the perilous lands<br> +Where the stranger may strike, where live none to sustain.<br> +All shun the desolate for being sad.<br> +One the great gallows shall have in its grasp,<br> +Stained in dark agony, till the soul's stay,<br> +The bone-house, is bloodily all broken up;<br> +When the harsh raven hacks eyes from the head,<br> +The sallow-coated, slits the soulless man.<br> +Nor can he shield from shame, scare with his hands,<br> +Off from their eager feast prowlers of air.<br> +Lost is his life to him, left is no breath,<br> +Bleached on the gallows-beam bides he his doom;<br> +Cold death-mists close round him called the Accursed.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 45%;"> +<br> +One shall die by the dagger, in wrath, drenched with ale,<br> +Wild through wine, on the mead bench, too swift with his words;<br> +Through the hand that brings beer, through the gay boon +companion,<br> +His mouth has no measure, his mood no restraint;<br> +Too lightly his life shall the wretched one lose,<br> +Undergo the great ill, be left empty of joy.<br> +When they speak of him slain by the sweetness of mead,<br> +His comrades shall call him one killed by himself.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 45%;"> +<br> +Some have good hap, and some hard days of toil;<br> +Some glad glow of youth, and some glory in war,<br> +Strength in the strife; some sling the stone, some shoot.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 45%;"> +<br> +One shall handle the harp, at the feet of his hero<br> +Sit and win wealth from the will of his Lord;<br> +Still quickly contriving the throb of the cords,<br> +The nail nimbly makes music, awakes a glad noise,<br> +While the heart of the harper throbs, hurried by zeal.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">Translation of Henry Morley.</p> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="FROM_JUDITH"></a><b>FROM +'JUDITH'</b></p> +<p>[The Assyrian officers, obeying the commands of Holofernes, come +to the carouse.]</p> +<blockquote>They then at the feast proceeded to sit,<br> +The proud to the wine-drinking, all his comrades-in-ill,<br> +Bold mailèd-warriors. There were lofty beakers<br> +Oft borne along the benches, also were cups and flagons<br> +Full to the hall-sitters borne. The fated partook of them,<br> +Brave warriors-with-shields, though the mighty weened not of +it,<br> +Awful lord of earls. Then was Holofernes,<br> +Gold-friend of men, full of wine-joy:<br> +He laughed and clamored, shouted and dinned,<br> +That children of men from afar might hear<br> +How the strong-minded both stormed and yelled,<br> +Moody and mead-drunken, often admonished<br> +The sitters-on-benches to bear themselves well.<br> +Thus did the hateful one during all day<br> +His liege-men loyal keep plying with wine,<br> +Stout-hearted giver of treasure, until they lay in a +swoon.</blockquote> +<p>[Holofernes has been slain by Judith. The Hebrews, encouraged by +her, surprise the drunken and sleeping Assyrians.]</p> +<blockquote>Then the band of the brave was quickly prepared,<br> +Of the bold for battle; stepped out the valiant<br> +Men and comrades, bore their banners,<br> +Went forth to fight straight on their way<br> +The heroes 'neath helmets from the holy city<br> +At the dawn itself; shields made a din,<br> +Loudly resounded. Thereat laughed the lank<br> +Wolf in the wood, and the raven wan,<br> +Fowl greedy for slaughter: both of them knew<br> +That for them the warriors thought to provide<br> +Their fill on the fated; and flew on their track<br> +The dewy-winged eagle eager for prey,<br> +The dusky-coated sang his war-song,<br> +The crooked-beaked. Stepped forth the warriors,<br> +The heroes for battle with boards protected,<br> +With hollow shields, who awhile before<br> +The foreign-folk's reproach endured,<br> +The heathens' scorn; fiercely was that<br> +At the ash-spear's play to them all repaid,<br> +All the Assyrians, after the Hebrews<br> +Under their banners had boldly advanced<br> +To the army-camps. They bravely then<br> +Forthright let fly showers of arrows,<br> +Of battle-adders, out from the horn-bows,<br> +Of strongly-made shafts; stormed they aloud,<br> +The cruel warriors, sent forth their spears<br> +Among the brave; the heroes were angry,<br> +The dwellers-in-land, with the loathed race;<br> +The stern-minded stepped, the stout-in-heart,<br> +Rudely awakened their ancient foes<br> +Weary from mead; with hands drew forth<br> +The men from the sheaths the brightly-marked swords<br> +Most choice in their edges, eagerly struck<br> +Of the host of Assyrians the battle-warriors,<br> +The hostile-minded; not one they spared<br> +Of the army-folk, nor low nor high<br> +Of living men, whom they might subdue.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">By consent of Ginn & Co. Translation of +Garnett.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_FIGHT_AT_MALDON"></a><b>THE FIGHT +AT MALDON</b></p> +<p>[The Anglo-Saxons under Byrhtnoth are drawn up on one side of +Panta stream, the Northmen on the other. The herald of the Northmen +demands tribute. Byrhtnoth replies.]</p> +<blockquote>Then stood on the stathe, stoutly did call,<br> +The wikings' herald, with words he spake,<br> +Who boastfully bore from the brine-farers<br> +An errand to th' earl, where he stood on the shore:--<br> +"To thee me did send the seamen snell,<br> +Bade to thee say, thou must send to them quickly<br> +Bracelets for safety; and 'tis better for you<br> +That ye this spear-rush with tribute buy off<br> +Than we in so fierce a fight engage.<br> +We need not each spill, if ye speed to this:<br> +We will for the pay a peace confirm.<br> +If thou that redest, who art highest in rank,<br> +If thou to the seamen at their own pleasure<br> +Money for peace, and take peace from us,<br> +We will with the treasure betake us to ship,<br> +Fare on the flood, and peace with you confirm."<br> +Byrhtnoth replied, his buckler uplifted,<br> +Waved his slim spear, with words he spake,<br> +Angry and firm gave answer to him:--<br> +"Hear'st thou, seafarer, what saith this folk?<br> +They will for tribute spear-shafts you pay,<br> +Poisonous points and trusty swords,<br> +Those weapons that you in battle avail not.<br> +Herald of seamen, hark back again,<br> +Say to thy people much sadder words:--<br> +Here stands not unknown an earl with his band,<br> +Who will defend this fatherland,<br> +Æthelred's home, mine own liege lord's,<br> +His folk and field; ye're fated to fall,<br> +Ye heathen, in battle. Too base it me seems<br> +That ye with our scats to ship may go<br> +Unfought against, so far ye now hither<br> +Into our country have come within;<br> +Ye shall not so gently treasure obtain;<br> +Shall spear and sword sooner beseem us,<br> +Grim battle-play, ere tribute we give."</blockquote> +<p>[The Northmen, unable to force a passage, ask to be allowed to +cross and fight it out on an equal footing. Byrhtnoth allows +this.]</p> +<blockquote>"Now room is allowed you, come quickly to us,<br> +Warriors to war; wot God alone<br> +Who this battle-field may be able to keep."<br> +Waded the war-wolves, for water they recked not,<br> +The wikings' band west over Panta,<br> +O'er the clear water carried their shields,<br> +Boatmen to bank their bucklers bore.<br> +There facing their foes ready were standing<br> +Byrhtnoth with warriors: with shields he bade<br> +The war-hedgel work, and the war-band hold<br> +Fast 'gainst the foes. Then fight was nigh,<br> +Glory in battle; the time was come<br> +That fated men should there now fall.<br> +Then outcry was raised, the ravens circled,<br> +Eagle eager for prey; on earth was uproar.<br> +Then they let from their fists the file-hardened spears,<br> +The darts well-ground, fiercely fly forth:<br> +The bows were busy, board point received,<br> +Bitter the battle-rush, warriors fell down,<br> +On either hand the youths lay dead.</blockquote> +<p class="heading">By consent of Ginn & Co. Translation of +Garnett.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="CAEDMONS_INSPIRATION"></a>CAEDMON'S INSPIRATION</h2> +<br> +<p>He [Cædmon] had remained in the secular life until the +time when he was of advanced age, and he had never learned any +song. For that reason oftentimes, when it was decided at a feasting +that all should sing in turn to the accompaniment of the harp for +the sake of entertainment, he would arise for shame from the +banquet when he saw the harp approaching him, and would go home to +his house. When he on a certain occasion had done this, and had +left the house of feasting, and had gone to the stable of the +cattle, which had been intrusted to his care for that night; and +when he there, after a reasonable time, had arranged his limbs for +rest, he fell asleep. And a man stood by him in a dream, and hailed +him, and greeted him, and called him by name, and said: +"Cædmon, sing something for me." Then he answered and said: +"I cannot sing; I went out from the feast and came hither because I +could not sing." Again said the one who was speaking with him: +"Nevertheless, thou canst sing for me." Said Cædmon, "What +shall I sing?" Said he, "Sing to me of creation."</p> +<p>When Cædmon received this answer, then began he soon to +sing in glorification of God the Creator, verses and words that he +had never before heard.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Then he arose from sleep and he had fast in his memory all those +things he had sung in his sleep; and to these words he soon added +many other words of song of the same measure, worthy for God.</p> +<p>Then came he in the morning to the town-reeve, who was his +aldorman, and told him of the gift he had received. And the reeve +soon led him to the abbess, and made that known to her and told +her. Then bade she assemble all the very learned men, and the +learners, and bade him tell the dream in their presence, and sing +the song, so that by the judgment of them all it might be +determined what it was, and whence it had come. Then it was seen by +them all, just as it was, that the heavenly gift had been given him +by the Lord himself.</p> +<p class="heading">Alfred's 'Bede': Translation of Robert +Sharp.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_CHRONICLE"></a>FROM THE 'CHRONICLE'</h2> +<br> +<p>Selection from the entry for the year 897</p> +<p>Then Alfred, the King, ordered long ships built to oppose the +war-ships of the enemy. They were very nearly twice as long as the +others; some had sixty oars, some more. They were both swifter and +steadier, and also higher than the others; they were shaped neither +on the Frisian model nor on the Danish, but as it seemed to King +Alfred that they would be most useful.</p> +<p>Then, at a certain time in that year, came six hostile ships to +Wight, and did much damage, both in Devon and elsewhere on the +seaboard. Then the King ordered that nine of the new ships should +proceed thither. And his ships blockaded the mouth of the passage +on the outer-sea against the enemy. Then the Danes came out with +three ships against the King's ships; but three of the Danish ships +lay above the mouth, high and dry aground; and the men were gone +off upon the shore. Then the King's men took two of the three ships +outside, at the mouth, and slew the crews; but one ship escaped. On +this one all the men were slain except five; these escaped because +the King's ship got aground. They were aground, moreover, very +inconveniently, since three were situated upon the same side of the +channel with the three stranded Danish ships, and all the others +were upon the other side, so that there could be no communication +between the two divisions. But when the water had ebbed many +furlongs from the ships, then went the Danes from their three ships +to the King's three ships that had been left dry upon the same side +by the ebbing of the tide, and they fought together there. Then +were slain Lucumon, the King's Reeve, Wulfheard the Frisian, and +Æbbe the Frisian, and Æthelhere the Frisian, and +Æthelferth the King's companion, and of all the men Frisians +and English, sixty-two; and of the Danes, one hundred and +twenty.</p> +<p>But the flood came to the Danish ships before the Christians +could shove theirs out, and for that reason the Danes rowed off. +They were, nevertheless, so grievously wounded that they could not +row around the land of the South Saxons, and the sea cast up there +two of the ships upon the shore. And the men from them were led to +Winchester to the King, and he commanded them to be hanged there. +But the men who were in the remaining ship came to East Anglia, +sorely wounded.</p> +<p class="heading">Translation of Robert Sharp.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="GABRIELE_DANNUNZIO"></a>GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO</h2> +<h3>(1864-)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>n Italian poet and novelist of early promise, who has become a +somewhat unique figure in contemporary literature, Gabriele +d'Annunzio is a native of the Abruzzi, born in the little village +of Pescara, on the Adriatic coast. Its picturesque scenery has +formed the background for more than one of his stories. At the age +of fifteen, while still a student at Prato, he published his first +volume of poems, 'Intermezzo di Rime' (Interludes of Verse): +"grand, plastic verse, of an impeccable prosody," as he maintained +in their defense, but so daringly erotic that their appearance +created no small scandal. Other poems followed at intervals, +notably 'Il Canto Nuovo' (The New Song: Rome, 1882), 'Isotteo e la +Chimera' (Isotteo and the Chimera: Rome, 1890), 'Poema Paradisiaco' +and 'Odi Navali' (Marine Odes: Milan, 1893), which leave no doubt +of his high rank as poet. The novel, however, is his chosen vehicle +of expression, and the one which gives fullest scope to his rich +and versatile genius. His first long story, 'Il Piacere' +(Pleasure), appeared in 1889. As the title implies, it was pervaded +with a frank, almost complacent sensuality, which its author has +since been inclined to deprecate. Nevertheless, the book received +merited praise for its subtle portrayal of character and incident, +and its exuberance of phraseology; and more than all, for the +promise which it suggested. With the publication of 'L'Innocente,' +the author for the first time showed a real seriousness of purpose. +His views of life had meanwhile essentially altered:--"As was +just," he confessed, "I began to pay for my errors, my disorders, +my excesses: I began to suffer with the same intensity with which I +had formerly enjoyed myself; sorrow had made of me a new man." +Accordingly his later books, while still emphatically realistic, +are chastened by an underlying tone of pessimism. Passion is no +longer the keynote of life, but rather, as exemplified in 'Il +Trionfo della Morte,' the prelude of death. Leaving Rome, where, +"like the outpouring of the sewers, a flood of base desires invaded +every square and cross-road, ever more putrid and more swollen," +D'Annunzio retired to Francovilla-al-Mare, a few miles from his +birthplace. There he lives in seclusion, esteemed by the +simple-minded, honest, and somewhat fanatical peasantry, to whose +quaint and primitive manners his books owe much of their +distinctive atmosphere.</p> +<p>In Italy, D'Annunzio's career has been watched with growing +interest. Until recently, however, he was scarcely known to the +world at large, when a few poems, translated into French, brought +his name into immediate prominence. Within a year three Paris +journals acquired rights of translation from him, and he has since +occupied the attention of such authoritative French critics as +Henri Rabusson, René Doumic, Edouard Rod, +Eugène-Melchior de Vogüé, and, most recently, +Ferdinand Brunetière, all of whom seem to have a clearer +appreciation of his quality than even his critics at home. At the +same time there is a small but hostile minority among the French +novelists, whose literary feelings are voiced by Léon Daudet +in a vehement protest under the title 'Assez d'Étrangers' +(Enough of Foreigners).</p> +<p>It is too soon to pass final judgment on D'Annunzio's style, +which has been undergoing an obvious transition, not yet +accomplished. Realist and psychologist, symbolist and mystic by +turns, and first and always a poet, he has been compared +successively to Bourget and Maupassant, Tolstoi and +Dostoïevsky, Théophile Gautier and Catulle +Mendès, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Baudelaire. Such +complexity of style is the outcome of his cosmopolitan taste in +literature, and his tendency to assimilate for future use whatever +pleases him in each successive author. Shakespeare and Goethe, +Keats and Heine, Plato and Zoroaster, figure among the names which +throng his pages; while his unacknowledged and often unconscious +indebtedness to writers of lesser magnitude,--notably the +self-styled 'Sar' Joseph Peladan--has lately raised an outcry of +plagiarism. Yet whatever leaves his pen, borrowed or original, has +received the unmistakable imprint of his powerful +individuality.</p> +<p>It is easy to trace the influences under which, successively, +D'Annunzio has come. They are essentially French. He is a French +writer in an Italian medium. His early short sketches, noteworthy +chiefly for their morbid intensity, were modeled largely on +Maupassant, whose frank, unblushing realism left a permanent +imprint upon the style of his admirer, and whose later analytic +tendency probably had an important share in turning his attention +to the psychological school.</p> +<p>'Il Piacere,' though largely inspired by Paul Bourget, contains +as large an element of 'Notre Coeur' and 'Bel-Ami' as of 'Le +Disciple' and 'Coeur de Femme.' In this novel, Andrea Sperelli +affords us the type of D'Annunzio's heroes, who, aside from +differences due to age and environment, are all essentially the +same,--somewhat weak, yet undeniably attractive; containing, all of +them, "something of a Don Juan and a Cherubini," with the Don Juan +element preponderating. The plot of 'Il Piacere' is not remarkable +either for depth or for novelty, being the needlessly detailed +record of Sperelli's relations with two married women, of totally +opposite types.</p> +<p>'Giovanni Episcopo' is a brief, painful tragedy of low life, +written under the influence of Russian evangelism, and full of +reminiscences of Dostoïevsky's 'Crime and Punishment.' +Giovanni is a poor clerk, of a weak, pusillanimous nature, +completely dominated by a coarse, brutal companion, Giulio Wanzer, +who makes him an abject slave, until a detected forgery compels +Wanzer to flee the country. Episcopo then marries Ginevra, the +pretty but unprincipled waitress at his <i>pension</i>, who +speedily drags him down to the lowest depths of degradation, making +him a mere nonentity in his own household, willing to live on the +proceeds of her infamy. They have one child, a boy, Ciro, on whom +Giovanni lavishes all his suppressed tenderness. After ten years of +this martyrdom, the hated Wanzer reappears and installs himself as +husband in the Episcopo household. Giovanni submits in helpless +fury, till one day Wanzer beats Ginevra, and little Ciro intervenes +to protect his mother. Wanzer turns on the child, and a spark of +manhood is at last kindled in Giovanni's breast. He springs upon +Wanzer, and with the pent-up rage of years stabs him.</p> +<p>'L'Innocente,' D'Annunzio's second long novel, also bears the +stamp of Russian influence. It is a gruesome, repulsive story of +domestic infidelity, in which he has handled the theory of pardon, +the motive of numerous recent French novels, like Daudet's 'La +Petite Paroisse' and Paul Marguerite's 'La Tourmente.'</p> +<p>In another extended work, 'Il Trionfo della Morte' (The Triumph +of Death), D'Annunzio appears as a convert to Nietzsche's +philosophy and to Wagnerianism. Ferdinand Brunetière has +pronounced it unsurpassed by the naturalistic schools of England, +France, or Russia. In brief, the hero, Giorgio Aurispa, a morbid +sensualist, with an inherited tendency to suicide, is led by fate +through a series of circumstances which keep the thought of death +continually before him. They finally goad him on to fling himself +from a cliff into the sea, dragging with him the woman he +loves.</p> +<p>The 'Vergini della Rocca' (Maidens of the Crag), his last story, +is more an idyllic poem than a novel. Claudio Cantelmo, sickened +with the corruption of Rome, retires to his old home in the +Abruzzi, where he meets the three sisters Massimilla, Anatolia, +Violante: "names expressive as faces full of light and shade, and +in which I seemed already to discover an infinity of grace, of +passion, and of sorrow." It is inevitable that he should chose one +of the three, but which? And in the dénouement the solution +is only half implied.</p> +<p>D'Annunzio is now occupied with a new romance; and coming years +will doubtless present him all the more distinctively as a writer +of Italy on whom French inflences have been seed sowed in fertile +ground. The place in contemporary Italian of such work as his is +indisputably considerable.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_DROWNED_BOY"></a>THE DROWNED BOY</h2> +<center>From 'The Triumph of Death'</center> +<br> +<p>All of a sudden, Albadora, the septuagenarian Cybele, she who +had given life to twenty-two sons and daughters, came toiling up +the narrow lane into the court, and indicating the neighboring +shore, where it skirted the promontory on the left, announced +breathlessly:--</p> +<p>"Down yonder there has been a child drowned!"</p> +<p>Candia made the sign of the cross. Giorgio arose and ascended to +the loggia, to observe the spot designated. Upon the sand, below +the promontory, in close vicinity to the chain of rocks and the +tunnel, he perceived a blotch of white, presumably the sheet which +hid the little body. A group of people had gathered around it.</p> +<p>As Ippolita had gone to mass with Elena at the chapel of the +Port, he yielded to his curiosity and said to his +entertainers:--</p> +<p>"I am going down to see."</p> +<p>"Why?" asked Candia. "Why do you wish to put a pain in your +heart?"</p> +<p>Hastening down the narrow lane, he descended by a short cut to +the beach, and continued along the water. Reaching the spot, +somewhat out of breath, he inquired:--</p> +<p>"What has happened?"</p> +<p>The assembled peasants saluted him and made way for him. One of +them answered tranquilly:--</p> +<p>"The son of a mother has been drowned."</p> +<p>Another, clad in linen, who seemed to be standing guard over the +corpse, bent down and drew aside the sheet.</p> +<p>The inert little body was revealed, extended upon the unyielding +sand. It was a lad, eight or nine years old, fair and frail, with +slender limbs. His head was supported on his few humble garments, +rolled up in place of pillow,--the shirt, the blue trousers, the +red sash, the cap of limp felt. His face was but slightly livid, +with flat nose, prominent forehead, and long, long lashes; the +mouth was half open, with thick lips which were turning blue, +between which the widely spaced teeth gleamed white. His neck was +slender, flaccid as a wilted stem, and seamed with tiny creases. +The jointure of the arms at the shoulder looked feeble. The arms +themselves were fragile, and covered with a down similar to the +fine plumage which clothes the bodies of newly hatched birds. The +whole outline of the ribs was distinctly visible; down the middle +of the breast the skin was divided by a darker line; the navel +stood out, like a knot. The feet, slightly bloated, had assumed the +same sallow color as the little hands, which were callous and +strewn with warts, with white nails beginning to turn livid. On the +left arm, on the thighs near the groin, and further down, on the +knees and along the legs, appeared reddish blotches of scurf. Every +detail of this wretched little body assumed, in the eyes of +Giorgio, an extraordinary significance, immobile as it was and +fixed forever in the rigidity of death.</p> +<p>"How was he drowned? Where?" he questioned, lowering his +voice.</p> +<p>The man dressed in linen gave, with some show of impatience, the +account which he had probably had to repeat too many times already. +He had a brutal countenance, square-cut, with bushy brows, and a +large mouth, harsh and savage. Only a little while after leading +the sheep back to their stalls, the lad, taking his breakfast along +with him, had gone down, together with a comrade, to bathe. He had +hardly set foot in the water, when he had fallen and was drowned. +At the cries of his comrade, some one from the house overhead on +the bluff had hurried down, and wading in up to the knees, had +dragged him from the water half dead; they had turned him upside +down to make him throw up the water, they had shaken him, but to no +purpose. To indicate just how far the poor little fellow had gone +in, the man picked up a pebble and threw it into the sea.</p> +<p>"There, only to there; at three yards from the shore!"</p> +<p>The sea lay at rest, breathing peacefully, close to the head of +the dead child. But the sun blazed fiercely down upon the sand; and +something pitiless, emanating from that sky of flame and from those +stolid witnesses, seemed to pass over the pallid corpse.</p> +<p>"Why," asked Giorgio, "do you not place him in the shade, in one +of the houses, on a bed?"</p> +<p>"He is not to be moved," declared the man on guard, "until they +hold the inquest."</p> +<p>"At least carry him into the shade, down there, below the +embankment!"</p> +<p>Stubbornly the man reiterated, "He is not to be moved."</p> +<p>There could be no sadder sight than that frail, lifeless little +being, extended on the stones, and watched over by the impassive +brute who repeated his account every time in the selfsame words, +and every time made the selfsame gesture, throwing a pebble into +the sea:--</p> +<p>"There; only to there."</p> +<p>A woman joined the group, a hook-nosed termagant, with gray eyes +and sour lips, mother of the dead boy's comrade. She manifested +plainly a mistrustful restlessness, as if she anticipated some +accusation against her own son. She spoke with bitterness, and +seemed almost to bear a grudge against the victim.</p> +<p>"It was his destiny. God had said to him, 'Go into the sea and +end yourself.'"</p> +<p>She gesticulated with vehemence. "What did he go in for, if he +did not know how to swim--?"</p> +<p>A young lad, a stranger in the district, the son of a mariner, +repeated contemptuously, "Yes, what did he go in for? We, yes, who +know how to swim--" ...</p> +<p>Other people joined the group, gazed with cold curiosity, then +lingered or passed on. A crowd occupied the railroad embankment, +another gathered on the crest of the promontory, as if at a +spectacle. Children, seated or kneeling, played with pebbles, +tossing them into the air and catching them, now on the back and +now in the hollow of their hands. They all showed the same profound +indifference to the presence of other people's troubles and of +death.</p> +<p>Another woman joined the group on her way home from mass, +wearing a dress of silk and all her gold ornaments. For her also +the harassed custodian repeated his account, for her also he +indicated the spot in the water. She was talkative.</p> +<p>"I am always saying to <i>my</i> children, 'Don't you go into +the water, or I will kill you!' The sea is the sea. Who can save +himself?"</p> +<p>She called to mind other instances of drowning; she called to +mind the case of the drowned man with the head cut off, driven by +the waves all the way to San Vito, and found among the rocks by a +child.</p> +<p>"Here, among these rocks. He came and told us, 'There is a dead +man there.' We thought he was joking. But we came and we found. He +had no head. They had an inquest; he was buried in a ditch; then in +the night he was dug up again. His flesh was all mangled and like +jelly, but he still had his boots on. The judge said, 'See, they +are better than mine!' So he must have been a rich man. And it +turned out that he was a dealer in cattle. They had killed him and +chopped off his head, and had thrown him into the Tronto."...</p> +<p>She continued to talk in her shrill voice, from time to time +sucking in the superfluous saliva with a slight hissing sound.</p> +<p>"And the mother? When is the mother coming?"</p> +<p>At that name there arose exclamations of compassion from all the +women who had gathered.</p> +<p>"The mother! There comes the mother, now!"</p> +<p>And all of them turned around, fancying that they saw her in the +far distance, along the burning strand. Some of the women could +give particulars about her. Her name was Riccangela; she was a +widow with seven children. She had placed this one in a farmer's +family, so that he might tend the sheep, and gain a morsel of +bread.</p> +<p>One woman said, gazing down at the corpse, "Who knows how much +pains the mother has taken in raising him!" Another said, "To keep +the children from going hungry she has even had to ask +charity."</p> +<p>Another told how, only a few months before, the unfortunate +child had come very near strangling to death in a courtyard in a +pool of water barely six inches deep. All the women repeated, "It +was his destiny. He was bound to die that way."</p> +<p>And the suspense of waiting rendered them restless, anxious. +"The mother! There comes the mother now!"</p> +<p>Feeling himself grow sick at heart, Giorgio exclaimed, "Can't +you take him into the shade, or into a house, so that the mother +will not see him here naked on the stones, under a sun like +this?"</p> +<p>Stubbornly the man on guard objected:--"He is not to be touched. +He is not to be moved--until the inquest is held."</p> +<p>The bystanders gazed in surprise at the stranger,--Candia's +stranger. Their number was augmenting. A few occupied the +embankment shaded with acacias; others crowned the promontory +rising abruptly from the rocks. Here and there, on the monstrous +bowlders, a tiny boat lay sparkling like gold at the foot of the +detached crag, so lofty that it gave the effect of the ruins of +some Cyclopean tower, confronting the immensity of the sea.</p> +<p>All at once, from above on the height, a voice announced, "There +she is."</p> +<p>Other voices followed:--"The mother! The mother!"</p> +<p>All turned. Some stepped down from the embankment. Those on the +promontory leaned far over. All became silent, in expectation. The +man on guard drew the sheet once more over the corpse. In the midst +of the silence, the sea barely seemed to draw its breath, the +acacias barely rustled. And then through the silence they could +hear her cries as she drew near.</p> +<p>The mother came along the strand, beneath the sun, crying aloud. +She was clad in widow's mourning. She tottered along the sand, with +bowed body, calling out, "O my son! My son!"</p> +<p>She raised her palms to heaven, and then struck them upon her +knees, calling out, "My son!"</p> +<p>One of her older sons, with a red handkerchief bound around his +neck, to hide some sore, followed her like one demented, dashing +aside his tears with the back of his hand. She advanced along the +strand, beating her knees, directing her steps toward the sheet. +And as she called upon her dead, there issued from her mouth sounds +scarcely human, but rather like the howling of some savage dog. As +she drew near, she bent over lower and lower, she placed herself +almost on all fours; till, reaching him, she threw herself with a +howl upon the sheet.</p> +<p>She arose again. With hand rough and toil-stained, hand +toughened by every variety of labor, she uncovered the body. She +gazed upon it a few instants, motionless as though turned to stone. +Then time and time again, shrilly, with all the power of her voice, +she called as if trying to awaken him, "My son! My son! My +son!"</p> +<p>Sobs suffocated her. Kneeling beside him, she beat her sides +furiously with her fists. She turned her despairing eyes around +upon the circle of strangers. During a pause in her paroxysms she +seemed to recollect herself. And then she began to sing. She sang +her sorrow in a rhythm which rose and fell continually, like the +palpitation of a heart. It was the ancient monody which from time +immemorial, in the land of the Abruzzi, the women have sung over +the remains of their relatives. It was the melodious eloquence of +sacred sorrow, which renewed spontaneously, in the profundity of +her being, this hereditary rhythm in which the mothers of bygone +ages had modulated their lamentations.</p> +<p>She sang on and on:--"Open your eyes, arise and walk, my son! +How beautiful you are! How beautiful you are!"</p> +<p>She sang on:--"For a morsel of bread I have drowned you, my son! +For a morsel of bread I have borne you to the slaughter! For that +have I raised you!"</p> +<p>But the irate woman with the hooked nose interrupted her:--"It +was not you who drowned him; it was Destiny. It was not you who +took him to the slaughter. You had placed him in the midst of +bread." And making a gesture toward the hill where the house stood +which had sheltered the lad, she added, "They kept him there, like +a pink at the ear."</p> +<p>The mother continued:--"O my son, who was it sent you; who was +it sent you here, to drown?"</p> +<p>And the irate woman:--"Who was it sent him? It was our Lord. He +said to him, 'Go into the water and end yourself.'"</p> +<p>As Giorgio was affirming in a low tone to one of the bystanders +that if succored in time the child might have been saved, and that +they had killed him by turning him upside down and holding him +suspended by the feet, he felt the gaze of the mother fixed upon +him. "Can't you do something for him, sir?" she prayed. "Can't you +do something for him?"</p> +<p>And she prayed:--"O Madonna of the Miracles, work a miracle for +him!"</p> +<p>Touching the head of the dead boy, she repeated:--"My son! my +son! my son! arise and walk!"</p> +<p>On his knees in front of her was the brother of the dead boy; he +was sobbing, but without grief, and from time to time he glanced +around with a face that suddenly grew indifferent. Another brother, +the oldest one, remained at a little distance, seated in the shade +of a bowlder; and he was making a great show of grief, hiding his +face in his hands. The women, striving to console the mother, were +bending over her with gestures of compassion, and accompanying her +monody with an occasional lament.</p> +<p>And she sang on:--"Why have I sent you forth from my house? Why +have I sent you to your death? I have done everything to keep my +children from hunger; everything, everything, except to be a woman +with a price. And for a morsel of bread I have lost you! This was +the way you were to die!"</p> +<p>Thereupon the woman with the hawk nose raised her petticoats in +an impetus of wrath, entered the water up to her knees, and +cried:--"Look! He came only to here. Look! The water is like oil. +It is a sign that he was bound to die that way."</p> +<p>With two strides she regained the shore. "Look!" she repeated, +pointing to the deep imprint in the sand made by the man who +recovered the body. "Look!"</p> +<p>The mother looked in a dull way; but it seemed as if she neither +saw nor comprehended. After her first wild outbursts of grief, +there came over her brief pauses, amounting to an obscurement of +consciousness. She would remain silent, she would touch her foot or +her leg with a mechanical gesture. Then she would wipe away her +tears with the black apron. She seemed to be quieting down. Then, +all of a sudden, a fresh explosion would shake her from head to +foot, and prostrate her upon the corpse.</p> +<p>"And I cannot take you away! I cannot take you in these arms to +the church! My son! My son!"</p> +<p>She fondled him from head to foot, she caressed him softly. Her +savage anguish was softened to an infinite tenderness. Her +hand--the burnt and callous hand of a hard-working woman--became +infinitely gentle as she touched the eyes, the mouth, the forehead +of her son.</p> +<p>"How beautiful you are! How beautiful you are!"</p> +<p>She touched his lower lip, already turned blue; and as she +pressed it slightly, a whitish froth issued from the mouth. From +between his lashes she brushed away some speck, very carefully, as +though fearful of hurting him.</p> +<p>"How beautiful you are, heart of your mamma!"</p> +<p>His lashes were long, very long, and fair. On his temples, on +his cheeks was a light bloom, pale as gold.</p> +<p>"Do you not hear me? Rise and walk."</p> +<p>She took the little well-worn cap, limp as a rag. She gazed at +it and kissed it, saying:--</p> +<p>"I am going to make myself a charm out of this, and wear it +always on my breast."</p> +<p>She lifted the child; a quantity of water escaped from the mouth +and trickled down upon the breast.</p> +<p>"O Madonna of the Miracles, perform a miracle!" she prayed, +raising her eyes to heaven in a supreme supplication. Then she laid +softly down again the little being who had been so dear to her, and +took up the worn shirt, the red sash, the cap. She rolled them up +together in a little bundle, and said:--</p> +<p>"This shall be my pillow; on these I shall rest my head, always, +at night; on these I wish to die."</p> +<p>She placed these humble relics on the sand, beside the head of +her child, and rested her temple on them, stretching herself out, +as if on a bed.</p> +<p>Both of them, mother and son, now lay side by side, on the hard +rocks, beneath the flaming sky, close to the homicidal sea. And now +she began to croon the very lullaby which in the past had diffused +pure sleep over his infant cradle.</p> +<p>She took up the red sash and said, "I want to dress him."</p> +<p>The cross-grained woman, who still held her ground, assented. +"Let us dress him now."</p> +<p>And she herself took the garments from under the head of the +dead boy; she felt in the jacket pocket and found a slice of bread +and a fig.</p> +<p>"Do you see? They had given him his food just before,--just +before. They cared for him like a pink at the ear."</p> +<p>The mother gazed upon the little shirt, all soiled and torn, +over which her tears fell rapidly, and said, "Must I put that shirt +on him?"</p> +<p>The other woman promptly raised her voice to some one of her +family, above on the bluff:--"Quick, bring one of Nufrillo's new +shirts!" The new shirt was brought. The mother flung herself down +beside him.</p> +<p>"Get up, Riccangela, get up!" solicited the women around +her.</p> +<p>She did not heed them. "Is my son to stay like that on the +stones, and I not stay there too?--like that, on the stones, my own +son?"</p> +<p>"Get up, Riccangela, come away."</p> +<p>She arose. She gazed once more with terrible intensity upon the +little livid face of the dead. Once again she called with all the +power of her voice, "My son! My son! My son!"</p> +<p>Then with her own hands she covered up with the sheet the +unheeding remains.</p> +<p>And the women gathered around her, drew her a little to one +side, under shadow of a bowlder; they forced her to sit down, they +lamented with her.</p> +<p>Little by little the spectators melted away. There remained only +a few of the women comforters; there remained the man clad in +linen, the impassive custodian, who was awaiting the inquest.</p> +<p>The dog-day sun poured down upon the strand, and lent to the +funeral sheet a dazzling whiteness. Amidst the heat the promontory +raised its desolate aridity straight upward from the tortuous chain +of rocks. The sea, immense and green, pursued its constant, even +breathing. And it seemed as if the languid hour was destined never +to come to an end.</p> +<p>Under shadow of the bowlder, opposite the white sheet, which was +raised up by the rigid form of the corpse beneath, the mother +continued her monody in the rhythm rendered sacred by all the +sorrows, past and present, of her race. And it seemed as if her +lamentation was destined never to come to an end.</p> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i1"><a name="TO_AN_IMPROMPTU_OF_CHOPIN"></a><b>TO AN +IMPROMPTU OF CHOPIN</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When thou upon my breast art sleeping,</p> +<p class="i1">I hear across the midnight gray--</p> +<p>I hear the muffled note of weeping,</p> +<p class="i1">So near--so sad--so far away!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>All night I hear the teardrops falling--</p> +<p class="i1">Each drop by drop--my heart must weep;</p> +<p>I hear the falling blood-drops--lonely,</p> +<p class="i1">Whilst thou dost sleep--whilst thou dost sleep.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">From 'The Triumph of Death.'</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><a name="INDIA"></a><b>INDIA</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>India--whose enameled page unrolled</p> +<p class="i1">Like autumn's gilded pageant, 'neath a sun</p> +<p class="i1">That withers not for ancient kings undone</p> +<p>Or gods decaying in their shrines of gold--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Where were thy vaunted princes, that of old</p> +<p class="i1">Trod thee with thunder--of thy saints was none</p> +<p class="i1">To rouse thee when the onslaught was begun,</p> +<p>That shook the tinseled sceptre from thy hold?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Dead--though behind thy gloomy citadels</p> +<p class="i1">The fountains lave their baths of porphyry;</p> +<p>Dead--though the rose-trees of thy myriad dells</p> +<p class="i1">Breathe as of old their speechless ecstasy;</p> +<p>Dead--though within thy temples, courts, and cells,</p> +<p class="i1">Their countless lamps still supplicate for thee.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Translated by Thomas Walsh, for 'A Library of the World's Best +Literature.'</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ANTAR"></a>ANTAR</h2> +<h3>(About 550-615)</h3> +<h3>BY EDWARD S. HOLDEN</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>rabia was opened to English readers first by Sale's translation +of the 'Kuran,' in 1734; and by English versions of the 'Arabian +Nights' from 1712 onward. The latter were derived from Galland's +translation of the 'Thousand and One Nights,' which began to +appear, in French, in 1704. Next to nothing was generally known of +Oriental literature from that time until the end of the eighteenth +century. The East India Company fostered the study of the classics +of the extreme Orient; and the first Napoleon opened Egypt,--his +<i>savans</i> marched in the centre of the invading squares.</p> +<p>The flagship of the English fleet which blockaded Napoleon's +army carried an Austro-German diplomatist and scholar,--Baron von +Hammer-Purgstall,--part of whose mission was to procure a complete +manuscript of the 'Arabian Nights.' It was then supposed that these +tales were the daily food of all Turks, Arabians, and Syrians. To +the intense surprise of Von Hammer, he learned that they were never +recited in the coffee-houses of Constantinople, and that they were +not to be found at all outside of Egypt.</p> +<p>His dismay and disappointment were soon richly compensated, +however, by the discovery of the Arabian romance of 'Antar,' the +national classic, hitherto unknown in Europe, except for an +enthusiastic notice which had fallen by chance into the hands of +Sir William Jones. The entire work was soon collected. It is of +interminable length in the original, being often found in thirty or +forty manuscript volumes in quarto, in seventy or eighty in octavo. +Portions of it have been translated into English, German, and +French. English readers can consult it best in 'Antar,' a Bedouin +romance, translated from the Arabic by Terrick Hamilton, in four +volumes 8vo (London, 1820). Hamilton's translation, now rare, +covers only a portion of the original; and a new translation, +suitably abridged, is much needed.</p> +<p>The book purports to have been written more than a thousand +years ago,--in the golden prime of the Caliph +Harún-al-Rashid (786-809) and of his sons and successors, +Amin (809-813) and Mamun (813-834),--by the famous As-Asmai (born +741, died about 830). It is in fact a later compilation, probably +of the twelth century. (Baron von Hammer's MS. was engrossed in the +year 1466.) Whatever the exact date may have been, it was probably +not much later than A.D. 1200. The main outlines of Antar's life +are historical. Many particulars are derived from historic accounts +of the lives of other Arabian heroes (Duraid and others) and are +transferred bodily to the biography of Antar. They date back to the +sixth century. Most of the details must be imaginary, but they are +skillfully contrived by a writer who knew the life of the desert +Arab at first hand. The verses with which the volumes abound are in +many cases undoubtedly Antar's. (They are printed in italics in +what follows.) In any event, the book in its present form has been +the delight of all Arabians for many centuries. Every wild Bedouin +of the desert knew much of the tale by heart, and listened to its +periods and to its poems with quivering interest. His more +cultivated brothers of the cities possessed one or many of its +volumes. Every coffee-house in Aleppo, Bagdad, or Constantinople +had a narrator who, night after night, recited it to rapt +audiences.</p> +<p>The unanimous opinion of the East has always placed the romance +of 'Antar' at the summit of such literature. As one of their +authors well says:--"'The Thousand and One Nights' is for the +amusement of women and children; 'Antar' is a book for men. From it +they learn lessons of eloquence, of magnanimity, of generosity, and +of statecraft." Even the prophet Muhammad, well-known foe to poetry +and to poets, instructed his disciples to relate to their children +the traditions concerning Antar, "for these will steel their hearts +harder than stone."</p> +<p>The book belongs among the great national classics, like the +'Shah-nameh' and the 'Nibelungen-Lied.' It has a direct relation to +Western culture and opinion also. Antar was the father of +knighthood. He was the <i>preux-chevalier</i>, the champion of the +weak and oppressed, the protector of women, the impassioned +lover-poet, the irresistible and magnanimous knight. European +chivalry in a marked degree is the child of the chivalry of his +time, which traveled along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea and +passed with the Moors into Spain (710). Another current flowed from +Arabia to meet and to modify the Greeks of Constantinople and the +early Crusaders; and still another passed from Persia into +Palestine and Europe. These fertilized Provençal poetry, the +French romance, the early Italian epic. The 'Shah-nameh' of +Firdausi, that model of a heroic poem, was written early in the +eleventh century. 'Antar' in its present form probably preceded the +romances of chivalry so common in the twelfth century in Italy and +France.</p> +<p>Antarah ben Shedad el Absi (Antar the Lion, the Son of Shedad of +the tribe of Abs), the historic Antar, was born about the middle of +the sixth century of our era, and died about the year 615, +forty-five years after the birth of the prophet Muhammad, and seven +years before the Hijra--the Flight to Medina--with which the +Muhammadan era begins. His father was a noble Absian knight. The +romance makes him the son of an Abyssinian slave, who is finally +discovered to be a powerful princess. His skin was black. He was +despised by his father and family and set to tend their camels. His +extraordinary strength and valor and his remarkable poetic faculty +soon made him a marked man, in a community in which personal valor +failed of its full value if it were not celebrated in brilliant +verse. His love for the beautiful Ibla (Ablah in the usual modern +form), the daughter of his uncle, was proved in hundreds of +encounters and battles; by many adventurous excursions in search of +fame and booty; by thousands of verses in her honor.</p> +<p>The historic Antar is the author of one of the seven "suspended +poems." The common explanation of this term is that these seven +poems were judged, by the assemblage of all the Arabs, worthy to be +written in golden letters (whence their name of the 'golden odes'), +and to be hung on high in the sacred Kaabah at Mecca. Whether this +be true, is not certain. They are at any rate accepted models of +Arabic style. Antar was one of the seven greatest poets of his +poetic race. These "suspended poems" can now be studied in the +original and in translation, by the help of a little book published +in London in 1894, 'The Seven Poems,' by Captain F.E. Johnson, +R.A.</p> +<p>The Antar of the romance is constantly breaking into verse which +is passionately admired by his followers. None of its beauties of +form are preserved in the translation; and indeed, this is true of +the prose forms also. It speaks volumes for the manly vigor of the +original that it can be transferred to an alien tongue and yet +preserve great qualities. To the Arab the work is a masterpiece +both in form and content. Its prose is in balanced, rhythmic +sentences ending in full or partial rhymes. This "cadence of the +cooing dove" is pure music to an Eastern ear. If any reader is +interested in Arabic verse, he can readily satisfy his curiosity. +An introduction to the subject is given in the Terminal Essay of +Sir Richard Burton's 'Arabian Nights' (Lady Burton's edition, Vol. +vi., page 340). The same subject is treated briefly and very +clearly in the introduction to Lyall's 'Ancient Arabian Poetry'--a +book well worth consulting on other accounts.</p> +<p>The story itself appeals to the Oriental's deepest feelings, +passions, ideals:--</p> +<p>"To realize the impetuous feelings of the Arab," says Von +Hammer, "you must have heard these tales narrated to a circle of +Bedouins crowded about the orator of the desert.... It is a +veritable drama, in which the spectators are the actors as well. If +the hero is threatened with imminent danger, they shudder and cry +aloud, 'No, no, no; Allah forbid! that cannot be!' If he is in the +midst of tumult and battle, mowing down rank after rank of the +enemy with his sword, they seize their own weapons and rise to fly +to his rescue. If he falls into the snares of treachery, their +foreheads contract with angry indignation and they exclaim, 'The +curse of Allah be on the traitor!' If the hero at last sinks under +the superior forces of the enemy, a long and ardent sigh escapes +from their breasts, with the farewell blessing, 'Allah's compassion +be with him--may he rest in peace.'... Descriptions of the beauties +of nature, especially of the spring, are received with +exclamations. Nothing equals the delight which sparkles in every +eye when the narrator draws a picture of feminine beauty."</p> +<p>The question as to the exact relation of the chivalry of Europe +to the earlier chivalry of Arabia and of the East is a large one, +and one which must be left to scholars. It is certain that Spenser +and Sir Philip Sidney owe far more to Saladin than we commonly +suppose. The tales of Boccaccio (1350) show that the Italians of +that day still held the Arabs to be their teachers in chivalry, and +at least their equals in art, science, and civilization; and the +Italy of 1300 was a century in advance of the rest of Europe. In +1268 two brothers of the King of Castile, with 800 other Spanish +gentlemen, were serving under the banners of the Muslim in Tunis. +The knightly ideal of both Moors and Spaniards was to be</p> +<blockquote>"Like steel among swords,<br> +Like wax among ladies."</blockquote> +<p>Hospitality, generosity, magnanimity, the protection of the +weak, punctilious observance of the plighted faith, pride of birth +and lineage, glory in personal valor--these were the knightly +virtues common to Arab and Christian warriors. Antar and his +knights, Ibla and her maidens, are the Oriental counterparts of +Launcelot and Arthur, of Guinevere and Iseult.</p> +<p>The primary duty of the early Arab was blood-revenge. An insult +to himself, or an injury to the tribe, must be wiped out with the +blood of the offender. Hence arose the multitude of tribal feuds. +It was Muhammad who first checked the private feud by fixing "the +price of blood" to be paid by the aggressor or by his tribe. In the +time of Antar revenge was the foremost duty. Ideals of excellence +change as circumstances alter. Virtues go out of fashion (like the +magnificence of Aristotle), or acquire an entirely new importance +(as veracity, since England became a trading nation). Some day we +may possess a natural history of the virtues.</p> +<p>The service of the loved one by the early Arab was a passion +completely different from the vain gallantry of the mediæval +knight of Europe. He sought for the complete possession of his +chosen mistress, and was eager to earn it by multitudes of +chivalric deeds; but he could not have understood the +sentimentalities of the Troubadours. The systematic fantasies of +the "Courts of Love" would have seemed cold follies to Arab +chivalry--as indeed they are, though they have led to something +better. In generosity, in magnanimity, the Arab knight far +surpassed his European brother. Hospitality was a point of honor to +both. As to the noble Arabs of those days, when any one demanded +their protection, no one ever inquired what was the matter; for if +he asked any questions, it would be said of him that he was afraid. +The poets have thus described them in verse:--</p> +<blockquote>"They rise when any one calls out to them, and<br> +they haste before asking any questions;<br> +they aid him against his enemies<br> +that seek his life, and they return<br> +honored to their families."</blockquote> +<p>The Arab was the knight of the tent and the desert. His deeds +were immediately known to his fellows; discussed and weighed in +every household of his tribe. The Christian knight of the Middle +Ages, living isolated in his stronghold, was less immediately +affected by the opinions of his class. Tribal allegiance was +developed in the first case, independence in the second.</p> +<p>Scholars tell us that the romance of 'Antar' is priceless for +faithful pictures of the times before the advent of Muhammad, which +are confirmed by all that remains of the poetry of "the days of +ignorance." To the general reader its charm lies in its bold and +simple stories of adventure; in its childlike enjoyment of the +beauty of Nature; in its pictures of the elemental passions of +ambition, pride, love, hate, revenge. Antar was a poet, a lover, a +warrior, a born leader. From a keeper of camels he rose to be the +protector of the tribe of Abs and the pattern of chivalry, by +virtue of great natural powers and in the face of every obstacle. +He won possession of his Ibla and gave her the dower of a queen, by +adventures the like of which were never known before. There were no +Ifrits or Genii to come to his aid, as in the 'Thousand Nights and +a Night.' 'Antar' is the epic of success crowning human valor; the +tales in the 'Arabian Nights,' at their best, are the fond fancies +of the fatalist whose best endeavor is at the mercy of every +capricious Jinni.</p> +<p>The 'Arabian Nights' contains one tale of the early Arabs,--the +story of Gharib and his brother Ajib,--which repeats some of the +exploits of Antar; a tale far inferior to the romance. The +excellences of the 'Arabian Nights' are of another order. We must +look for them in the pompous enchantments of the City of Brass, or +in the tender constancy of Aziz and Azizah, or in the tale of Hasan +of Bassorah, with its lovely study of the friendship of a +foster-sister, and its wonderful presentment of the magic +surroundings of the country of the Jann.</p> +<p>To select specimens from 'Antar' is like selecting from +'Robinson Crusoe.' In the romance, Antar's adventures go on and on, +and the character of the hero develops before one's eyes. It may be +that the leisure of the desert is needed fully to appreciate this +master-work.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-125.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_VALOR_OF_ANTAR"></a>THE VALOR OF ANTAR</h2> +<p>Now Antar was becoming a big boy, and grew up, and used to +accompany his mother, Zebeeba, to the pastures, and he watched the +cattle; and this he continued to do till he increased in stature. +He used to walk and run about to harden himself, till at length his +muscles were strengthened, his frame altogether more robust, his +bones more firm and solid, and his speech correct. His days were +passed in roaming about the mountain sides; and thus he continued +till he attained his tenth year.</p> +<p>[He now kills a wolf which had attacked his father's flocks, and +breaks into verse to celebrate his victory:--]</p> +<p><i>O thou wolf, eager for death, I have left thee wallowing in +dust, and spoiled of life; thou wouldst have the run of my flocks, +but I have left thee dyed with blood; thou wouldst disperse my +sheep, and thou knowest I am a lion that never fears. This is the +way I treat thee, thou dog of the desert. Hast thou ever before +seen battle and wars?</i></p> +<p>[His next adventure brought him to the notice of the chief of +the tribe,--King Zoheir. A slave of Prince Shas insulted a poor, +feeble woman who was tending her sheep; on which Antar "dashed him +against the ground. And his length and breadth were all one mass." +This deed won for Antar the hatred of Prince Shas, the friendship +of the gentle Prince Malik, and the praise of the king, their +father. "This valiant fellow," said the king, "has defended the +honor of women."]</p> +<p>From that day both King Zoheir and his son Malik conceived a +great affection for Antar, and as Antar returned home, the women +all collected around him to ask him what had happened; among them +were his aunts and his cousin, whose name was Ibla. Now Ibla was +younger than Antar, and a merry lass. She was lovely as the moon at +its full; and perfectly beautiful and elegant.... One day he +entered the house of his uncle Malik and found his aunt combing his +cousin Ibla's hair, which flowed down her back, dark as the shades +of night. Antar was quite surprised; he was greatly agitated, and +could pay no attention to anything; he was anxious and thoughtful, +and his anguish daily became more oppressive.</p> +<p>[Meeting her at a feast, he addressed her in verse:--]</p> +<p><i>The lovely virgin has struck my heart with the arrow of a +glance, for which there is no cure. Sometimes she wishes for a +feast in the sandhills, like a fawn whose eyes are full of magic. +She moves; I should say it was the branch of the Tamarisk that +waves its branches to the southern breeze. She approaches; I should +say it was the frightened fawn, when a calamity alarms it in the +waste</i>.</p> +<p>When Ibla heard from Antar this description of her charms, she +was in astonishment. But Antar continued in this state for days and +nights, his love and anguish ever increasing.</p> +<p>[Antar resolves to be either tossed upon the spear-heads or +numbered among the noble; and he wanders into the plain of +lions.]</p> +<p>As soon as Antar found himself in it, he said to himself, +Perhaps I shall now find a lion, and I will slay him. Then, behold +a lion appeared in the middle of the valley; he stalked about and +roared aloud; wide were his nostrils, and fire flashed from his +eyes; the whole valley trembled at every gnash of his fangs--he was +a calamity, and his claws more dreadful than the deadliest +catastrophe--thunder pealed as he roared--vast was his strength, +and his force dreadful--broad were his paws, and his head immense. +Just at that moment Shedad and his brothers came up. They saw Antar +address the lion, and heard the verses that he repeated; he sprang +forward like a hailstorm, and hissed at him like a black +serpent--he met the lion as he sprang and outroared his bellow; +then, giving a dreadful shriek, he seized hold of his mouth with +his hand, and wrenched it open to his shoulders, and he shouted +aloud--the valley and the country round echoed back the war.</p> +<p>[Those who were watching were astonished at his prowess, and +began to fear Antar. The horsemen now set off to attack the tribe +of Temeem, leaving the slaves to guard the women.]</p> +<p>Antar was in transports on seeing Ibla appear with the other +women. She was indeed like an amorous fawn; and when Antar was +attending her, he was overwhelmed in the ocean of his love, and +became the slave of her sable tresses. They sat down to eat, and +the wine-cups went merrily round. It was the spring of the year, +when the whole land shone in all its glory; the vines hung +luxuriantly in the arbors; the flowers shed around ambrosial +fragrance; every hillock sparkled in the beauty of its colors; the +birds in responsive melody sang sweetly from each bush, and harmony +issued from their throats; the ground was covered with flowers and +herbs; while the nightingales filled the air with their softest +notes.</p> +<p>[While the maidens were singing and sporting, lo! on a sudden +appeared a cloud of dust walling the horizon, and a vast clamor +arose. A troop of horses and their riders, some seventy in number, +rushed forth to seize the women, and made them prisoners. Antar +instantly rescues Ibla from her captors and engages the enemy.]</p> +<p>He rushed forward to meet them, and harder than flint was his +heart, and in his attack was their fate and destiny. He returned +home, taking with him five-and-twenty horses, and all the women and +children. Now the hatred of Semeeah (his stepmother) was converted +into love and tenderness, and he became dearer to her than +sleep.</p> +<p>[He had thenceforward a powerful ally in her, a fervent friend +in Prince Malik, a wily counselor in his brother Shiboob. And Antar +made great progress in Ibla's heart, from the verses that he spoke +in her praise; such verses as these:--]</p> +<p><i>I love thee with the love of a noble-born hero; and I am +content with thy imaginary phantom. Thou art my sovereign in my +very blood; and my mistress; and in thee is all my +confidence</i>.</p> +<p>[Antar's astonishing valor gained him the praise of the noble +Absian knights, and he was emboldened to ask his father Shedad to +acknowledge him for his son, that he might become a chief among the +Arabs. Shedad, enraged, drew his sword and rushed upon Antar to +kill him, but was prevented by Semeeah. Antar, in the greatest +agony of spirit, was ashamed that the day should dawn on him after +this refusal, or that he should remain any longer in the country. +He mounted his horse, put on his armor, and traveled on till he was +far from the tents, and he knew not whither he was going.]</p> +<p>Antar had proceeded some way, when lo! a knight rushed out from +the ravines in the rocks, mounted on a dark-colored colt, beautiful +and compact, and of a race much prized among the Arabs; his hoofs +were as flat as the beaten coin; when he neighed he seemed as if +about to speak, and his ears were like quills; his sire was Wasil +and his dam Hemama. When Antar cast his eye upon the horse, and +observed his speed and his paces, he felt that no horse could +surpass him, so his whole heart and soul longed for him. And when +the knight perceived that Antar was making toward him, he spurred +his horse and it fled beneath him; for this was a renowned horseman +called Harith, the son of Obad, and he was a valiant hero.</p> +<p>[By various devices Antar became possessed of the noble horse +Abjer, whose equal no prince or emperor could boast of. His mettle +was soon tried in an affray with the tribe of Maan, headed by the +warrior Nakid, who was ferocious as a lion.]</p> +<p>When Nakid saw the battle of Antar, and how alone he stood +against five thousand, and was making them drink of the cup of +death and perdition, he was overwhelmed with astonishment at his +deeds. "Thou valiant slave," he cried, "how powerful is thine +arm--how strong thy wrist!" And he rushed down upon Antar. And +Antar presented himself before him, for he was all anxiety to meet +him. "O thou base-born!" cried Nakid. But Antar permitted him not +to finish his speech, before he assaulted him with the assault of a +lion, and roared at him; he was horrified and paralyzed at the +sight of Antar. Antar attacked him, thus scared and petrified, and +struck him with his sword on the head, and cleft him down the back; +and he fell, cut in twain, from the horse, and he was split in two +as if by a balance; and as Antar dealt the blow he cried out, "Oh, +by Abs! oh, by Adnan! I am ever the lover of Ibla." No sooner did +the tribe of Maan behold Antar's blow, than every one was seized +with fear and dismay. The whole five thousand made an attack like +the attack of a single man; but Antar received them as the parched +ground receives the first of the rain. His eyeballs were fiery red, +and foam issued from his lips; whenever he smote he cleft the head; +every warrior he assailed, he annihilated; he tore a rider from the +back of his horse, he heaved him on high, and whirling him in the +air he struck down another with him, and the two instantly expired. +"By thine eyes, Ibla," he cried, "to-day will I destroy all this +race." Thus he proceeded until he terrified the warriors, and +hurled them into woe and disgrace, hewing off their arms and their +joints.</p> +<p>[At the moment of Antar's victory his friends arrive to see his +triumph. On his way back with them he celebrates his love for Ibla +in verses.]</p> +<p><i>When the breezes blow from Mount Saadi, their freshness calms +the fire of my love and transports.... Her throat complains of the +darkness of her necklaces. Alas! the effects of that throat and +that necklace! Will fortune ever, O daughter of Malik, ever bless +me with thy embrace, that would cure my heart of the sorrows of +love? If my eye could see her baggage camels, and her family, I +would rub my cheeks on the hoofs of her camels. I will kiss the +earth where thou art; mayhap the fire of my love and ecstasy may be +quenched.... I am the well-known Antar, the chief of his tribe, and +I shall die; but when I am gone, histories shall tell of +me</i>.</p> +<p>[From that day forth Antar was named Abool-fawaris, that is to +say, the father of horsemen. His sword, Dhami--the trenchant--was +forged from a meteor that fell from the sky; it was two cubits long +and two spans wide. If it were presented to Nushirvan, King of +Persia, he would exalt the giver with favors; or if it were +presented to the Emperor of Europe, one would be enriched with +treasures of gold and silver.]</p> +<p>As soon as Gheidac saw the tribe of Abs, and Antar the destroyer +of horsemen, his heart was overjoyed and he cried out, "This is a +glorious morning; to-day will I take my revenge." So he assailed +the tribe of Abs and Adnan, and his people attacked behind him like +a cloud when it pours forth water and rains. And the Knight of Abs +assaulted them likewise, anxious to try his sword, the famous +Dhami. And Antar fought with Gheidac, and wearied him, and shouted +at him, and filled him with horror; then assailed him so that +stirrup grated stirrup; and he struck him on the head with Dhami. +He cleft his visor and wadding, and his sword played away between +the eyes, passing through his shoulders down to the back of the +horse, even down to the ground; and he and his horse made four +pieces; and to the strictest observer, it would appear that he had +divided them with scales. And God prospered Antar in all that he +did, so that he slew all he aimed at, and overthrew all he +touched.</p> +<p>"Nobility," said Antar, "among liberal men, is the thrust of the +spear, the blow of the sword, and patience beneath the battle-dust. +I am the physician of the tribe of Abs in sickness, their protector +in disgrace, the defender of their wives when they are in trouble, +their horseman when they are in glory, and their sword when they +rush to arms."</p> +<p>[This was Antar's speech to Monzar, King of the Arabs, when he +was in search of Ibla's dowry. He found it in the land of Irak, +where the magnificent Chosroe was ready to reward him even to the +half of his kingdom, for his victory over the champion of the +Emperor of Europe.]</p> +<p>"All this grandeur, and all these gifts," said Antar, "have no +value to me, no charm in my eyes. Love of my native land is the +fixed passion of my soul."</p> +<p>"Do not imagine," said Chosroe, "that we have been able duly to +recompense you. What we have given you is perishable, as everything +human is, but your praises and your poems will endure forever."</p> +<p>[Antar's wars made him a Nocturnal Calamity to the foes of his +tribe. He was its protector and the champion of its women, "for +Antar was particularly solicitous in the cause of women." His +generosity knew no bounds. "Antar immediately presented the whole +of the spoil to his father and his uncles; and all the tribe of Abs +were astonished at his noble conduct and filial love." His +hospitality was universal; his magnanimity without limit. "Do not +bear malice, O Shiboob. Renounce it; for no good ever came of +malice. Violence is infamous; its result is ever uncertain, and no +one can act justly when actuated by hatred. Let my heart support +every evil, and let my patience endure till I have subdued all my +foes." Time after time he won new dowries for Ibla, even bringing +the treasures of Persia to her feet. Treacheries without count +divided him from his promised bride. Over and over again he rescued +her from the hands of the enemy; and not only her, but her father +and her hostile kinsmen.</p> +<p>At last (in the fourth volume, on the fourteen hundred and +fifty-third page) Antar makes his wedding feasts.]</p> +<p>"I wish to make at Ibla's wedding five separate feasts; I will +feed the birds and the beasts, the men and the women, the girls and +the boys, and not a single person shall remain in the whole country +but shall eat at Ibla's marriage festival."</p> +<p>Antar was at the summit of his happiness and delight, +congratulating himself on his good fortune and perfect felicity, +all trouble and anxiety being now banished from his heart. Praise +be to God, the dispenser of all grief from the hearts of virtuous +men.</p> +<p>[The three hundred and sixty tribes of the Arabs were invited to +the feast, and on the eighth day the assembled chiefs presented +their gifts--horses, armor, slaves, perfumes, gold, velvet, camels. +The number of slaves Antar received that day was five-and-twenty +hundred, to each of whom he gave a damsel, a horse, and weapons. +And they all mounted when he rode out, and halted when he +halted.]</p> +<p>Now when all the Arab chiefs had presented their offerings, each +according to his circumstances, Antar rose, and called out to +Mocriul-Wahsh:--"O Knight of Syria," said he, "let all the he and +she camels, high-priced horses, and all the various rarities I have +received this day, be a present from me to you. But the perfumes of +ambergris, and fragrant musk, belong to my cousin Ibla; and the +slaves shall form my army and troops." And the Arab chiefs marveled +at his generosity....</p> +<p>And now Ibla was clothed in the most magnificent garments, and +superb necklaces; they placed the coronet of Chosroe on her head, +and tiaras round her forehead. They lighted brilliant and scented +candles before her--the perfumes were scattered--the torches +blazed--and Ibla came forth in state. All present gave a shout; +while the malicious and ill-natured cried aloud, "What a pity that +one so beautiful and fair should be wedded to one so black!"</p> +<p>[The selections are from Hamilton's translation. Two long +episodes in 'Antar' are especially noteworthy: the famous horse +race between the champions of the tribes of Abs and Fazarah (Vol. +iv., Chapter 33), and the history of Khalid and Jaida (Vol. ii., +Chapter 11).]</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LUCIUS_APULEIUS"></a>LUCIUS APULEIUS</h2> +<h3>(Second Century A. D.)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-l.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>ucius Apuleius, author of the brilliant Latin novel 'The +Metamorphoses,' also called 'The [Golden] Ass,'--and more generally +known under that title,--will be remembered when many greater +writers shall have been forgotten. The downfall of Greek political +freedom brought a period of intellectual development fertile in +prose story-telling,--short fables and tales, novels philosophic +and religious, historical and satiric, novels of love, novels of +adventure. Yet, strange to say, while the instinct was prolific in +the Hellenic domain of the Roman Empire, it was for the most part +sterile in Italy, though Roman life was saturated with the +influence of Greek culture. Its only two notable examples are +Petronius Arbiter and Apuleius, both of whom belong to the first +two centuries of the Christian epoch.</p> +<p class="lft"><img src="images/image-132.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>Apuleius</b></p> +<p>The suggestion of the plan of the novel familiarly known as 'The +Golden Ass' was from a Greek source, Lucius of Patræ. The +original version was still extant in the days of Photius, Patriarch +of the Greek Church in the ninth century. Lucian, the Greek +satirist, also utilized the same material in a condensed form in +his 'Lucius, or the Ass.' But Apuleius greatly expanded the legend, +introduced into it numerous episodes, and made it the background of +a vivid picture of the manners and customs of a corrupt age. Yet +underneath its lively portraiture there runs a current of mysticism +at variance with the naïve rehearsal of the hero's adventures, +and this has tempted critics to find a hidden meaning in the story. +Bishop Warburton, in his 'Divine Legation of Moses,' professes to +see in it a defense of Paganism at the expense of struggling +Christianity. While this seems absurd, it is fairly evident that +the mind of the author was busied with something more than the mere +narration of rollicking adventure, more even than a satire on Roman +life. The transformation of the hero into an ass, at the moment +when he was plunging headlong into a licentious career, and the +recovery of his manhood again through divine intervention, suggest +a serious symbolism. The beautiful episode of 'Cupid and Psyche,' +which would lend salt to a production far more corrupt, is also +suggestive. Apuleius perfected this wild flower of ancient +folk-lore into a perennial plant that has blossomed ever since +along the paths of literature and art. The story has been accepted +as a fitting embodiment of the struggle of the soul toward a higher +perfection; yet, strange to say, the episode is narrated with as +brutal a realism as if it were a satire of Lucian, and its style is +belittled with petty affectations of rhetoric. It is the enduring +beauty of the conception that has continued to fascinate. Hence we +may say of 'The Golden Ass' in its entirety, that whether readers +are interested in esoteric meanings to be divined, or in the +author's vivid sketches of his own period, the novel has a charm +which long centuries have failed to dim.</p> +<p>Apuleius was of African birth and of good family, his mother +having come of Plutarch's blood. The second century of the Roman +Empire, when he lived (he was born at Madaura about A. D. 139), was +one of the most brilliant periods in history,--brilliant in its +social gayety, in its intellectual activities, and in the splendor +of its achievements. The stimulus of the age spurred men far in +good and evil. Apuleius studied at Carthage, and afterward at Rome, +both philosophy and religion, though this bias seems not to have +dulled his taste for worldly pleasure. Poor in purse, he finally +enriched himself by marrying a wealthy widow and inheriting her +property. Her will was contested on the ground that this handsome +and accomplished young literary man had exercised magic in winning +his elderly bride! The successful defense of Apuleius before his +judges--a most diverting composition, so jaunty and full of witty +impertinences that it is evident he knew the hard-headed Roman +judges would dismiss the prosecution as a farce--is still extant +under the name of 'The Apology; or, Concerning Magic.' This in +after days became oddly jumbled with the story of 'The Golden Ass' +and its transformations, so that St. Augustine was inclined to +believe Apuleius actually a species of professional wizard.</p> +<p>The plot of 'The Golden Ass' is very simple. Lucius of Madaura, +a young man of property, sets out on his travels to sow his wild +oats. He pursues this pleasant occupation with the greatest zeal +according to the prevailing mode: he is no moralist. The partner of +his first intrigue is the maid of a woman skilled in witchcraft. +The curiosity of Lucius being greatly exercised about the sorceress +and her magic, he importunes the girl to procure from her mistress +a magic salve which will transform him at will into an owl. By +mistake he receives the wrong salve; and instead of the bird +metamorphosis which he had looked for, he undergoes an unlooked-for +change into an ass. In this guise, and in the service of various +masters, he has opportunities of observing the follies of men from +a novel standpoint. His adventures are numerous, and he hears many +strange stories, the latter being chronicled as episodes in the +record of his experiences. At last the goddess Isis appears in a +dream, and obligingly shows him the way to effect his second +metamorphosis, by aid of the high priest of her temple, where +certain mysteries are about to be celebrated. Lucius is freed from +his disguise, and is initiated into the holy rites.</p> +<p>'The Golden Ass' is full of dramatic power and variety. The +succession of incident, albeit grossly licentious at times, engages +the interest without a moment's dullness. The main narrative, +indeed, is no less entertaining than the episodes. The work became +a model for story-writers of a much later period, even to the times +of Fielding and Smollett. Boccaccio borrowed freely from it; at +least one of the many humorous exploits of Cervantes's 'Don +Quixote' can be attributed to an adventure of Lucius; while 'Gil +Blas' abounds in reminiscences of the Latin novel. The student of +folk-lore will easily detect in the tasks imposed by Venus on her +unwelcome daughter-in-law, in the episode of 'Cupid and Psyche,' +the possible original from which the like fairy tales of Europe +drew many a suggestion. Probably Apuleius himself was indebted to +still earlier Greek sources.</p> +<p>Scarcely any Latin production was more widely known and studied +from the beginning of the Italian Renaissance to the middle of the +seventeenth century. In its style, however, it is far from classic. +It is full of archaisms and rhetorical conceits. In striving to say +things finely, the author frequently failed to say them well. This +fault, however, largely disappears in the translation; and whatever +may be the literary defects of the novel, it offers rich +compensation in the liveliness, humor, and variety of its +substance.</p> +<p>In addition to 'The Golden Ass,' the extant writings of Apuleius +include 'Florida' (an anthology from his own works), 'The God of +Socrates,' 'The Philosophy of Plato,' and 'Concerning the World,' a +treatise once attributed to Aristotle. The best modern edition of +his complete works is that of Hildebrand (Leipzig, 1842); of the +'Metamorphoses,' that of Eyssenhardt (Berlin, 1869). There have +been many translations into the modern languages. The best English +versions are those of T. Taylor (London, 1822); of Sir G. Head, +somewhat expurgated (London, 1851); and an unsigned translation +published in the Bohn Library, which has been drawn on for this +work, but greatly rewritten as too stiff and prolix, and in the +conversations often wholly unnatural. A very pretty edition in +French, with many illustrations, is that of Savalète (Paris, +1872).</p> +<br> +<h2><a name= +"THE_TALE_OF_ARISTOMENES_THE_COMMERCIAL_TRAVELER"></a>THE TALE OF +ARISTOMENES, THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELER</h2> +<center>From 'The Metamorphoses'</center> +<br> +<p>I am a native of Ægina, and I travel in Thessaly, +Ætolia, and Boeotia to purchase honey of Hypata, cheese, and +other articles used in cookery. Having heard that at Hypata, the +principal city of Thessaly, fine-flavored new cheese was for sale +cheap, I made the best of my way there to buy it all up. But as +usual, happening to start left foot foremost, which is unlucky, all +my hopes of profit came to nothing; for a fellow named Lupus, a +merchant who does things on a big scale, had bought the whole of it +the day before.</p> +<p>Weary with my hurried journey to no purpose, I was going early +in the evening to the public baths, when to my surprise I espied an +old companion of mine named Socrates. He was sitting on the ground, +half covered with a rag-tag cloak, and looking like somebody else, +he was so miserably wan and thin,--in fact, just like a street +beggar; so that though he used to be my friend and close +acquaintance, I had two minds about speaking to him.</p> +<p>"How now, friend Socrates!" said I: "what does this mean? Why +are you tricked out like this? What crime have you been guilty of? +Why, you look as though your family had given you up for dead and +held your funeral long ago, the probate judge had appointed +guardians for your children, and your wife, disfigured by her long +mourning, having cried herself almost blind, was being worried by +her parents to sit up and take notice of things, and look for a new +marriage. Yet now, all of a sudden, here you come before us like a +wretched ghost from the dead, to turn everything upside down.'"</p> +<p>"O Aristomenes!" said he, "it's clear that you don't know the +slippery turns, the freaks, and the never-ending tricks of +fortune."</p> +<p>As he said this, he hid his face, crimson with shame, in his one +garment of patches and tatters. I could not bear such a miserable +sight, and tried to raise him from the ground. But he kept saying +with his head all covered up, "Let me alone! let me alone! let +Fortune have her way with me!"</p> +<p>However, I finally persuaded him to go with me; and at the same +time pulling off one of my own garments, I speedily clothed him, or +at any rate covered him. I next took him to a bath, scrubbed and +oiled him myself, and laboriously rubbed the matted dirt off him. +Having done all I could, though tired out myself, I supported his +feeble steps, and with great difficulty brought him to my inn. +There I made him lie down on a bed, gave him plenty of food, braced +him up with wine, and entertained him with the news of the day. +Pretty soon our conversation took a merry turn; we cracked jokes, +and grew noisy as we chattered. All of a sudden, heaving a bitter +sigh from the bottom of his chest, and striking his forehead +violently with his right hand, he said:--</p> +<p>"Miserable wretch that I am, to have got into such a predicament +while having a good time at a gladiatorial show! As you know, I +went to Macedonia on business; it took me ten months; I was on my +way home with a very neat sum of money, and had nearly reached +Larissa, which I included in my route in order to see the show I +mentioned, when I was attacked by robbers in a lonely valley, and +only escaped after losing everything I had. In my distress I betook +myself to a certain woman named Meroë, who kept a tavern (and +who, though rather old, was very good-looking), and told her about +my long absence, my earnest desire to reach home, and my being +robbed that very day. She treated me with the greatest kindness, +gave me a good supper for nothing, and then let me make love to +her. But from the very moment that I was such a fool as to dally +with her, my mind seemed to desert me. I even gave her the clothes +which the robbers in common decency had left me, and the little +earnings I made there by working as cloakmaker so long as I was in +good physical condition; until at length this kind friend, and bad +luck together, reduced me to the state you just now found me +in."</p> +<p>"By Pollux, then," said I, "you deserve to suffer the very worst +misfortunes (if there be anything worse than the worst), for having +preferred a wrinkled old reprobate to your home and children."</p> +<p>"Hush! hush!" said he, putting his forefinger on his lips, and +looking round with a terror-stricken face to see if we were alone. +"Beware of reviling a woman skilled in the black art, for fear of +doing yourself a mischief."</p> +<p>"Say you so?" said I. "What kind of a woman is this innkeeper, +so powerful and dreadful?"</p> +<p>"She is a sorceress," he replied, "and possessed of magic +powers; she can draw down the heavens, make the earth heave, harden +the running water, dissolve mountains, raise the shades of the +dead, dethrone the gods, extinguish the stars, and set the very +depths of Tartarus ablaze!"</p> +<p>"Come, come!" said I: "end this tragic talk, fold up your +theatrical drop-scenes, and let us hear your story in every-day +language."</p> +<p>"Should you like," said he, "to hear of one or two, yes, or a +great many of her performances? Why, to make not only her +fellow-countrymen, but the Indians, the Ethiopians, or even the +Antipodeans, love her to distraction, are only the easy lessons of +her art, as it were, and mere trifles. Listen to what she has done +before many witnesses. By a single word she changed a lover into a +beaver, because he had gone to another flame. She changed an +innkeeper, a neighbor of hers she was envious of, into a frog; and +now the old fellow, swimming about in a cask of his own wine, or +buried in the dregs, croaks hoarsely to his old customers,--quite +in the way of business. She changed another person, a lawyer from +the Forum, into a ram, because he had conducted a suit against her; +to this very day that ram is always butting about. Finally, +however, public indignation was aroused by so many people coming to +harm through her arts; and the very next day had been fixed upon to +wreak a fearful vengeance on her, by stoning her to death. She +frustrated the design by her enchantments. You remember how Medea, +having got Creon to allow her just one day before her departure, +burned his whole palace, with himself and his daughter in it, by +means of flames issuing from a garland? Well, this sorceress, +having performed certain deadly incantations in a ditch (she told +me so herself in a drunken fit), confined everybody in the town +each in his own house for two whole days, by a secret spell of the +demons. The bars could not be wrenched off, nor the doors taken off +the hinges, nor even a breach made in the walls. At last, by common +consent, the people all swore they would not lift a hand against +her, and would come to her defense if any one else did. She then +liberated the whole city. But in the middle of the night she +conveyed the author of the conspiracy, with all his house, close +barred as it was,--the walls, the very ground, and even the +foundations,--to another city a hundred miles off, on the top of a +craggy mountain, and so without water. And as the houses of the +inhabitants were built so close together that there was not room +for the new-comer, she threw down the house before the gate of the +city and took her departure."</p> +<p>"You narrate marvelous things," said I, "my good Socrates; and +no less terrible than marvelous. In fact, you have excited no small +anxiety (indeed I may say fear) in me too; not a mere grain of +apprehension, but a piercing dread for fear this old hag should +come to know our conversation in the same way, by the help of some +demon. Let us get to bed without delay; and when we have rested +ourselves by a little sleep, let us fly as far as we possibly can +before daylight."</p> +<p>While I was still advising him thus, the worthy Socrates, +overcome by more wine than he was used to and by his fatigue, had +fallen asleep and was snoring loudly. I shut the door, drew the +bolts, and placing my bed close against the hinges, tossed it up +well and lay down on it. I lay awake some time through fear, but +closed my eyes at last a little before midnight.</p> +<p>I had just fallen asleep, when suddenly the door was burst open +with such violence that it was evidently not done by robbers; the +hinges were absolutely broken and wrenched off, and it was thrown +to the ground. The small bedstead, minus one foot and rotten, was +also upset by the shock; and falling upon me, who had been rolled +out on the floor, it completely covered and hid me. Then I +perceived that certain emotions can be excited by exactly opposite +causes; for as tears often come from joy, so, in spite of my +terror, I could not help laughing to see myself turned from +Aristomenes into a tortoise. As I lay on the floor, completely +covered by the bed, and peeping out to see what was the matter, I +saw two old women, one carrying a lighted lamp and the other a +sponge and a drawn sword, plant themselves on either side of +Socrates, who was fast asleep.</p> +<p>The one with the sword said to the other:--"This, sister +Panthea, is my dear Endymion, my Ganymede, who by day and by night +has laughed my youth to scorn. This is he who, despising my +passion, not only defames me with abusive language, but is +preparing also for flight; and I forsooth, deserted through the +craft of this Ulysses, like another Calypso, am to be left to +lament in eternal loneliness!"</p> +<p>Then extending her right hand, and pointing me out to her friend +Panthea:--</p> +<p>"And there," said she, "is his worthy counselor, Aristomenes, +who was the planner of this flight, and who now, half dead, is +lying flat on the ground under the bedstead and looking at all that +is going on, while he fancies that he is to tell scandalous stories +of me with impunity. I'll take care, however, that some day, aye, +and before long, too,--this very instant, in fact,--he shall repent +of his recent chatter and his present curiosity."</p> +<p>On hearing this I felt myself streaming with cold perspiration, +and my heart began to throb so violently that even the bedstead +danced on my back.</p> +<p>"Well, sister," said the worthy Panthea, "shall we hack him to +pieces at once, like the Bacchanals, or tie his limbs and mutilate +him?"</p> +<p>To this Meroë replied,--and I saw from what was happening, +as well as from what Socrates had told, how well the name fitted +her,--"Rather let him live, if only to cover the body of this +wretched creature with a little earth."</p> +<p>Then, moving Socrates's head to one side, she plunged the sword +into his throat up to the hilt, catching the blood in a small +leathern bottle so carefully that not a drop of it was to be seen. +All this I saw with my own eyes. The worthy Meroë--in order, I +suppose, not to omit any due observance in the sacrifice of the +victim--then thrust her right hand through the wound, and drew +forth the heart of my unhappy companion. His windpipe being +severed, he emitted a sort of indistinct gurgling noise, and poured +forth his breath with his bubbling blood. Panthea then stopped the +gaping wound with a sponge, exclaiming, "Beware, O sea-born sponge, +how thou dost pass through a river!"</p> +<p>When she had said this, they lifted my bed from the ground, and +dashed over me a mass of filth.</p> +<p>Hardly had they passed over the threshold when the door resumed +its former state. The hinges settled back on the panels, the posts +returned to the bars, and the bolts flew back to their sockets +again. I lay prostrate on the ground in a squalid plight, +terrified, naked, cold, and drenched. Indeed, I was half dead, +though still alive; and pursued a train of reflections like one +already in the grave, or to say the least on the way to the cross, +to which I was surely destined. "What," said I, "will become of me, +when this man is found in the morning with his throat cut? If I +tell the truth, who will believe a word of the story? 'You ought at +least,' they will say, 'to have called for help, if as strong a man +as you are could not withstand a woman! Is a man's throat to be cut +before your eyes, and you keep silence? Why was it that you were +not assassinated too? How did the villains come to spare you, a +witness of the murder? They would naturally kill you, if only to +put an end to all evidence of the crime. Since your escape from +death was against reason, return to it.'"</p> +<p>I said these things to myself over and over again, while the +night was fast verging toward day. It seemed best to me, therefore, +to escape on the sly before daylight and pursue my journey, though +I was all in a tremble. I took up my bundle, put the key in the +door, and drew back the bolts. But this good and faithful door, +which had opened of its own accord in the night, would not open now +till I had tried the key again and again.</p> +<p>"Hallo, porter!" said I, "where are you? Open the gate, I want +to be off before daybreak."</p> +<p>The porter, who was lying on the ground behind the door, only +grunted, "Why do you want to begin a journey at this time of night? +Don't you know the roads are infested by robbers? You may have a +mind to meet your death,--perhaps your conscience stings you for +some crime you have committed; but I haven't a head like a pumpkin, +that I should die for your sake!"</p> +<p>"It isn't very far from daybreak," said I; "and besides, what +can robbers take from a traveler in utter poverty? Don't <i>you</i> +know, you fool, that a naked man can't be stripped by ten +athletes?"</p> +<p>The drowsy porter turned over and answered;--"And how am I to +know but what you have murdered that fellow-traveler of yours that +you came here with last night, and are running away to save +yourself? And now I remember that I saw Tartarus through a hole in +the earth just at that hour, and Cerberus looking ready to eat me +up."</p> +<p>Then I came to the conclusion that the worthy Meroë had not +spared my throat out of pity, but to reserve me for the cross. So, +on returning to my chamber, I thought over some speedy method of +putting an end to myself; but fortune had provided me with no +weapon for self-destruction, except the bedstead. "Now, bedstead," +said I, "most dear to my soul, partner with me in so many sorrows, +fully conscious and a spectator of this night's events, and whom +alone when accused I can adduce as a witness of my innocence--do +thou supply me (who would fain hasten to the shades below) a +welcome instrument of death."</p> +<p>Thus saying, I began to undo the bed-cord. I threw one end of it +over a small beam projecting above the window, fastened it there, +and made a slip-knot at the other end. Then I mounted on the bed, +and thus elevated for my own destruction, put my head into the +noose and kicked away my support with one foot; so that the noose, +tightened about my throat by the strain of my weight, might stop my +breath. But the rope, which was old and rotten, broke in two; and +falling from aloft, I tumbled heavily upon Socrates, who was lying +close by, and rolled with him on the floor.</p> +<p>Lo and behold! at that very instant the porter burst into the +room, bawling out, "Where are you, you who were in such monstrous +haste to be off at midnight, and now lie snoring, rolled up in the +bed-clothes?"</p> +<p>At these words--whether awakened by my fall or by the rasping +voice of the porter, I know not--Socrates was the first to start +up; and he exclaimed, "Evidently travelers have good reason for +detesting these hostlers. This nuisance here, breaking in without +being asked,--most likely to steal something,--has waked me out of +a sound sleep by his outrageous bellowing."</p> +<p>On hearing him speak I jumped up briskly, in an ecstasy of +unhoped-for joy:--"Faithfulest of porters," I exclaimed, "my +friend, my own father, and my brother,--behold him whom you, in +your drunken fit, falsely accuse me of having murdered."</p> +<p>So saying, I embraced Socrates, and was for loading him with +kisses; but he repulsed me with considerable violence. "Get out +with you!" he cried. Sorely confused, I trumped up some absurd +story on the spur of the moment, to give another turn to the +conversation, and taking him by the right hand--</p> +<p>"Why not be off," said I, "and enjoy the freshness of the +morning on our journey?"</p> +<p>So I took my bundle, and having paid the innkeeper for our +night's lodging, we started on our road.</p> +<p>We had gone some little distance, and now, everything being +illumined by the beams of the rising sun, I keenly and attentively +examined that part of my companion's neck into which I had seen the +sword plunged.</p> +<p>"Foolish man," said I to myself, "buried in your cups, you +certainly have had a most absurd dream. Why, look: here's Socrates, +safe, sound, and hearty. Where is the wound? Where is the sponge? +Where is the scar of a gash so deep and so recent?"</p> +<p>Addressing myself to him, I remarked, "No wonder the doctors say +that hideous and ominous dreams come only to people stuffed with +food and liquor. My own case is a good instance. I went beyond +moderation in my drinking last evening, and have passed a wretched +night full of shocking and dreadful visions, so that I still fancy +myself spattered and defiled with human gore."</p> +<p>"It is not gore," he replied with a smile, "that you are +sprinkled with. And yet in my sleep I thought my own throat was +being cut, and felt some pain in my neck, and fancied that my very +heart was being plucked out. Even now I am quite faint; my knees +tremble; I stagger as I go, and feel in want of some food to +hearten me up."</p> +<p>"Look," cried I, "here is breakfast all ready for you." So +saying, I lifted my wallet from my shoulders, handed him some bread +and cheese, and said, "Let us sit down near that plane-tree." We +did so, and I helped myself to some refreshment. While looking at +him more closely, as he was eating with a voracious appetite, I saw +that he was faint, and of a hue like boxwood. His natural color, in +fact, had so forsaken him, that as I recalled those nocturnal +furies to my frightened imagination, the very first piece of bread +I put in my mouth, though exceedingly small, stuck in the middle of +my throat and would pass neither downward nor upward. Besides, the +number of people passing along increased my fears; for who would +believe that one of two companions could meet his death except at +the hands of the other?</p> +<p>Presently, after having gorged himself with food, he began to be +impatient for some drink, for he had bolted the larger part of an +excellent cheese. Not far from the roots of the plane-tree a gentle +stream flowed slowly along, like a placid lake, rivaling silver or +crystal.</p> +<p>"Look," said I: "drink your fill of the water of this stream, +bright as the Milky Way."</p> +<p>He arose, and, wrapping himself in his cloak, with his knees +doubled under him, knelt down upon the shelving bank and bent +greedily toward the water. Scarcely had he touched its surface with +his lips, when the wound in his throat burst open and the sponge +rolled out, a few drops of blood with it; and his lifeless body +would have fallen into the river had I not laid hold of one of his +feet, and dragged him with great difficulty and labor to the top of +the bank. There, having mourned my hapless comrade as much as there +was time, I buried him in the sandy soil that bordered the stream. +Then, trembling and terror-stricken, I fled through various +unfrequented places; and as though guilty of homicide, abandoned my +country and my home, embraced a voluntary exile, and now dwell in +Ætolia, where I have married another wife.</p> +<p class="heading">Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best +Literature.'</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_AWAKENING_OF_CUPID"></a>THE AWAKENING OF +CUPID</h2> +<br> +<blockquote>[The radical difference in the constituent parts of the +'Golden Ass' is startling, and is well illustrated by the selection +given previously and that which follows. The story of the "drummer" +comports exactly with the modern idea of realism in fiction: a +vivid and unflinching picture of manners and morals, full of broad +coarse humor and worldly wit. The story of Cupid and Psyche is the +purest, daintiest, most poetic of fancies; in essence a fairy tale +that might be told of an evening by the fire-light in the second +century or the nineteenth, but embodying also a high and beautiful +allegory, and treated with a delicate art which is in extreme +contrast with the body of the 'Golden Ass.' The difference is +almost as striking as between Gray's lampoon on "Jemmy Twitcher" +and his 'Bard' or 'Elegy'; or between Aristophanes's revels in +filth and his ecstatic soarings into the heavenliest regions of +poetry.</blockquote> +<p>The contrast is even more rasping when we remember that the tale +is not put into the mouth of a girl gazing dreamily into the +glowing coals on the hearth, or of some elegant reciter amusing a +social group in a Roman drawing-room or garden, but of a grizzled +hag who is maid of all work in a robbers' cave. She tells it to +divert the mind of a lovely young bride held for ransom. It begins +like a modern fairy tale, with a great king and queen who had +"three daughters of remarkable beauty," the loveliest being the +peerless Psyche. Even Venus becomes envious of the honors paid to +Psyche's charms, and summons Cupid to wing one of his shafts which +shall cause her "to be seized with the most burning love for the +lowest of mankind," so as to disgrace and ruin her. Cupid +undertakes the task, but instead falls in love with her himself. +Meanwhile an oracle from Apollo, instigated by Venus, dooms her to +be sacrificed in marriage to some unknown aërial monster, who +must find her alone on a naked rock. She is so placed, awaiting her +doom in terror; but the zephyrs bear her away to the palace of +Love. Cupid hides her there, lest Venus wreak vengeance on them +both: and there, half terrified but soon soothed, in the darkness +of night she hears from Cupid that he, her husband, is no monster, +but the fairest of immortals. He will not disclose his identity, +however; not only so, but he tenderly warns her that she must not +seek to discover it, or even to behold him, till he gives +permission, unless she would bring hopeless disaster on both. Nor +must she confide in her two sisters, lest their unwisdom or sudden +envy cause harm.</p> +<p>The simple-hearted and affectionate girl, however, in her +craving for sympathy, cannot resist the temptation to boast of her +happiness to her sisters. She invites them to pass a day in her +magnificent new home, and tells contradictory stories about her +husband. Alas! they depart bitterly envious, and plotting to make +her ruin her own joy out of fear and curiosity.]</p> +<p>"What are we to say, sister, [said one to the other] of the +monstrous lies of that silly creature? At one time her husband is a +young man, with the down just showing itself on his chin; at +another he is of middle age, and his hair begins to be silvered +with gray.... You may depend upon it, sister, either the wretch has +invented these lies to deceive us, or else she does not know +herself how her husband looks. Whichever is the case, she must be +deprived of these riches as soon as possible. And yet, if she is +really ignorant of her husband's appearance, she must no doubt have +married a god, and who knows what will happen? At all events, +if--which heaven forbid--she does become the mother of a divine +infant, I shall instantly hang myself. Meanwhile let us return to +our parents, and devise some scheme based on what we have just been +saying."</p> +<p>The sisters, thus inflamed with jealousy, called on their +parents in a careless and disdainful manner; and after being kept +awake all night by the turbulence of their spirits, made all haste +at morning to the rock, whence, by the wonted assistance of the +breeze, they descended swiftly to Psyche, and with tears squeezed +out by rubbing their eyelids, thus craftily addressed her:--</p> +<p>"Happy indeed are you, and fortunate in your very ignorance of +so heavy a misfortune. There you sit, without a thought of danger; +while we, your sisters, who watch over your interests with the most +vigilant care, are in anguish at your lost condition. For we have +learned as truth, and as sharers in your sorrows and misfortunes +cannot conceal it from you, that it is an enormous serpent, gliding +along in many folds and coils, with a neck swollen with deadly +venom, and prodigious gaping jaws, that secretly sleeps with you by +night. Remember the Pythian Oracle. Besides, a great many of the +husbandmen, who hunt all round the country, and ever so many of the +neighbors, have observed him returning home from his feeding-place +in the evening. All declare, too, that he will not long continue to +pamper you with delicacies, but will presently devour you. Will you +listen to us, who are so anxious for your precious safety, and +avoiding death, live with us secure from danger, or die horribly? +But if you are fascinated by your country home, or by the +endearments of a serpent, we have at all events done our duty +toward you, like affectionate sisters."</p> +<p>Poor, simple, tender-hearted Psyche was aghast with horror at +this dreadful story; and quite bereft of her senses, lost all +remembrance of her husband's admonitions and of her own promises, +and hurled herself headlong into the very abyss of calamity. +Trembling, therefore, with pale and livid cheeks and an almost +lifeless voice, she faltered out these broken words:--</p> +<p>"Dearest sisters, you have acted toward me as you ought, and +with your usual affectionate care; and indeed, it appears to me +that those who gave you this information have not invented a +falsehood. For, in fact, I have never yet beheld my husband's face, +nor do I know at all whence he comes. I only hear him speak in an +undertone by night, and have to bear with a husband of an unknown +appearance, and one that has an utter aversion to the light of day. +He may well, therefore, be some monster or other. Besides, he +threatens some shocking misfortune as the consequence of indulging +any curiosity to view his features. So, then, if you are able to +give any aid to your sister in this perilous emergency, don't delay +a moment."</p> +<p>[One of them replies:--]</p> +<p>"Since the ties of blood oblige us to disregard peril when your +safety is to be insured, we will tell you the only means of safety. +We have considered it over and over again. On that side of the bed +where you are used to lie, conceal a very sharp razor; and also +hide under the tapestry a lighted lamp, well trimmed and full of +oil. Make these preparations with the utmost secrecy. After the +monster has glided into bed as usual, when he is stretched out at +length, fast asleep and breathing heavily, as you slide out of bed, +go softly along with bare feet and on tiptoe, and bring out the +lamp from its hiding-place; then having the aid of its light, raise +your right hand, bring down the weapon with all your might, and cut +off the head of the creature at the neck. Then we will bring you +away with all these things, and if you wish, will wed you to a +human creature like yourself."</p> +<p>[They then depart, fearing for themselves if they are near when +the catastrophe happens.]</p> +<p>But Psyche, now left alone, except so far as a person who is +agitated by maddening Furies is not alone, fluctuated in sorrow +like a stormy sea; and though her purpose was fixed and her heart +was resolute when she first began to make preparations for the +impious work, her mind now wavered, and feared. She hurried, she +procrastinated; now she was bold, now tremulous; now dubious, now +agitated by rage; and what was the most singular thing of all, in +the same being she hated the beast and loved the husband. +Nevertheless, as the evening drew to a close, she hurriedly +prepared the instruments of her enterprise.</p> +<p>The night came, and with it her husband. After he fell asleep, +Psyche, to whose weak body and spirit the cruel influence of fate +imparted unusual strength, uncovered the lamp, and seized the knife +with the courage of a man. But the instant she advanced, she beheld +the very gentlest and sweetest of all creatures, even Cupid +himself, the beautiful God of Love, there fast asleep; at sight of +whom, the joyous flame of the lamp shone with redoubled vigor, and +the sacrilegious dagger repented the keenness of its edge.</p> +<p>But Psyche, losing the control of her senses, faint, deadly +pale, and trembling all over, fell on her knees, and made an +attempt to hide the blade in her own bosom; and this no doubt she +would have done had not the blade, dreading the commission of such +a crime, glided out of her rash hand. And now, faint and unnerved +as she was, she felt herself refreshed at heart by gazing upon the +beauty of those divine features. She looked upon the genial locks +of his golden head, teeming with ambrosial perfume, the circling +curls that strayed over his milk-white neck and roseate cheeks, and +fell gracefully entangled, some before and some behind, causing the +very light of the lamp itself to flicker by their radiant splendor. +On the shoulders of the god were dewy wings of brilliant whiteness; +and though the pinions were at rest, yet the tender down that +fringed the feathers wantoned to and fro in tremulous, unceasing +play. The rest of his body was smooth and beautiful, and such as +Venus could not have repented of giving birth to. At the foot of +his bed lay his bow, his quiver, and his arrows, the auspicious +weapons of the mighty god.</p> +<p>While with insatiable wonder and curiosity Psyche is examining +and admiring her husband's weapons, she draws one of the arrows out +of the quiver, and touches the point with the tip of her thumb to +try its sharpness; but happening to press too hard, for her hand +still trembled, she punctured the skin, so that some tiny drops of +rosy blood oozed forth. And thus did Psyche, without knowing it, +fall in love with Love. Then, burning more and more with desire for +Cupid, gazing passionately on his face, and fondly kissing him +again and again, her only fear was lest he should wake too +soon.</p> +<p>But while she hung over him, bewildered with delight so +overpowering, the lamp, whether from treachery or baneful envy, or +because it longed to touch, and to kiss as it were, so beautiful an +object, spirted a drop of scalding oil from the summit of its flame +upon the right shoulder of the god.... The god, thus scorched, +sprang from the bed, and seeing the disgraceful tokens of forfeited +fidelity, started to fly away, without a word, from the eyes and +arms of his most unhappy wife. But Psyche, the instant he arose, +seized hold of his right leg with both hands, and hung on to him, a +wretched appendage to his flight through the regions of the air, +till at last her strength failed her, and she fell to the +earth.</p> +<p class="heading">Translation of Bohn Library, revised.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THOMAS_AQUINAS"></a>THOMAS AQUINAS</h2> +<h3>(1226-1274)</h3> +<h3>BY EDWIN A. PACE</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>homas Aquinas, philosopher and theologian, was born in 1226, at +or near Aquino, in Southern Italy. He received his early training +from the Benedictines of Monte Cassino. Tradition says he was a +taciturn and seemingly dull boy, derisively nicknamed by his +fellows "the dumb ox," but admired by his teachers. He subsequently +entered the University of Naples. While studying there he joined +the Dominican Order, and was sent later on to Cologne, where he +became a pupil of Albertus Magnus. In 1251 he went to Paris, took +his degrees in theology, and began his career as a teacher in the +University. His academic work there was continued, with slight +interruptions, till 1261. The eleven years which followed were +spent partly in Rome, where Thomas enjoyed the esteem of Urban IV. +and Clement IV., and partly in the cities of Northern Italy, which +he visited in the interest of his Order. During this period he +produced the greatest of his works, and won such repute as a +theologian that the leading universities made every effort to +secure him as a teacher. He was appointed to a professorship at +Naples, where he remained from 1272 until the early part of 1274. +Summoned by Gregory X. to take part in the Council of Lyons, he set +out on his journey northward, but was compelled by illness to stop +at Fossa Nuova. Here he died March 7th, 1274. He was canonized in +1323, and was proclaimed a doctor of the Church by Pius V. in +1567.</p> +<p class="rgt"><img src="images/image-147.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>THOMAS AQUINAS</b></p> +<p>These honors were merited by a remarkable combination of ability +and virtue. To an absolute purity of life, St. Thomas added an +earnest love of truth and of labor. Calm in the midst of +discussion, he was equally proof against the danger of brilliant +success. As the friend of popes and princes, he might have attained +the highest dignities; but these he steadfastly declined, devoting +himself, so far as his duty permitted, to scientific pursuits. +Judged by his writings, he was intense yet thoroughly objective, +firm in his own position but dispassionate in treating the opinions +of others. Conclusions reached by daring speculation and faultless +logic are stated simply, impersonally. Keen replies are given +without bitterness, and the boldest efforts of reason are united +with the submissiveness of faith.</p> +<p>His works fill twenty-five large quarto volumes of the Parma +edition. This is, so far, the most complete collection, though +various portions have been edited from time to time with the +commentaries of learned theologians like Cajetan and Sylvius. +Partial translations have also been made into several modern +languages; but as yet there is no complete English edition of St. +Thomas.</p> +<p>Turning to the Latin text, the student cannot but notice the +contrast between the easy diction of modern philosophical writers +and the rugged conciseness of the mediæval Schoolman. On the +other hand, disappointment awaits those who quit the pages of +Cicero for the less elegant Latinity of the Middle Ages. What can +be said in favor of scholastic "style" is that it expresses clearly +and tersely the subtle shades of thought which had developed +through thirteen centuries, and which often necessitated a +sacrifice of classic form. With the Schoolmen, as with modern +writers on scientific subjects, precision was the first requisite, +and terminology was of more consequence than literary beauty.</p> +<p>Similar standards must be kept in view when we pass judgment +upon the technique of St. Thomas. In his presentation we find +neither the eloquence nor the rhetoric of the Fathers. He quotes +them continually, and in some of his works adopts their division +into books and chapters. But his exposition is more compact, +consisting at times of clear-cut arguments in series without an +attempt at transition, at other times of sustained reasoning +processes in which no phrase is superfluous and no word ambiguous. +Elsewhere he uses the more rigid mold which was peculiar to the +Scholastic Period, and had been fashioned chiefly by Alexander +Hales. Each subject is divided into so many "questions," and each +question into so many "articles." The "article" begins with the +statement of objections, then discusses various opinions, +establishes the author's position, and closes with a solution of +the difficulties which that position may encounter. This method had +its advantages. It facilitated analysis, and obliged the writer to +examine every aspect of a problem. It secured breadth of view and +thoroughness of treatment. It was, especially, a transparent medium +for reason, unbiased by either sentiment or verbiage.</p> +<p>If such qualities of style and presentation were encouraged by +the environment in which Aquinas pursued his earlier studies, they +were also helpful in the task which he chose as his life-work. This +was the construction of a system in which all the elements of +knowledge should be harmoniously united. An undertaking so vast +necessitated a long preparation, the study of all available +sources, and the elucidation of many detailed problems. Hence, a +considerable portion of St. Thomas's works is taken up with the +explanation of Peter Lombard's 'Sententiæ,' with Commentaries +on Aristotle, with Expositions of Sacred Scripture, collections +from the Fathers, and various <i>opuscula</i> or studies on special +subjects. Under the title 'Quæstiones Disputatæ,' +numerous problems in philosophy and theology are discussed at +length. But the synthetic power of Aquinas is shown chiefly in the +'Contra Gentes' and the 'Summa Theologica,' the former being a +defense of Christian belief with special reference to Arabian +philosophy, and the latter a masterly compendium of rational and +revealed truth.</p> +<p>The conception of the 'Summa' was not altogether original. From +the earliest days of the Church, men of genius had insisted on the +reasonableness of Christian belief by showing that, though +supernatural in its origin, it did not conflict with either the +facts or the laws of human knowledge. And as these had found their +highest expression in Greek philosophy, it was natural that this +philosophy should serve as a basis for the elucidation of revealed +truth. The early Fathers turned to Plato, not only because his +teaching was so spiritual, but also because it could be so readily +used as a framework for those theological concepts which +Christianity had brought into the world. Thus adopted by men who +were recognized authorities in the Church,--especially men like +Augustine and the Areopagite,--Platonism endured for centuries as +the rational element in dogmatic exposition.</p> +<p>Scholasticism inaugurated a new era. Patristic erudition had +gathered a wealth of theological knowledge which the Schoolmen +fully appreciated. But the same truths were to receive another +setting and be treated by different methods. Speculation changed +its direction, Aristotle taking the place of his master. The +peripatetic system found able exponents in the earlier Scholastics; +but Aquinas surpassed them alike in the mastery of the +philosopher's principles and in his application of these principles +to Christian doctrine. His Commentaries on Aristotle adhere +strictly to the text, dissecting its meaning and throwing into +relief the orderly sequence of ideas. In his other works, he +develops the germs of thought which he had gathered from the +Stagirite, and makes them the groundwork of his philosophical and +theological speculations.</p> +<p>With the subtlety of a metaphysician St. Thomas combined a vast +erudition. Quotations from the Fathers appear on nearly every page +of his writings, serving either as a keynote to the discussion +which follows, or as an occasion for solving objections. Toward St. +Augustine he shows the deepest reverence, though their methods +differ so widely, and his brief but lucid comments throw light on +difficult sayings of the great Doctor. His familiarity with +patristic theology is shown particularly in the 'Catena Aurea,' +where he links with passages from the Sacred Text numerous extracts +from the older commentators.</p> +<p>His respect for these interpretations did not prevent him from +making a thorough search of Scripture itself. With characteristic +clearness and depth he interpreted various books of the Bible, +insisting chiefly on the doctrinal meaning. The best of his work in +this line was devoted to the Pauline Epistles and to the Book of +Job; but his mastery of each text is no less evident where he takes +the authority of Scripture as the starting-point in theological +argument, or makes it the crowning evidence at the close of a +philosophical demonstration.</p> +<p>The materials gathered from Philosophy, Tradition, and Scripture +were the fruit of analysis; the final synthesis had yet to be +accomplished. This was the scope of the 'Summa Theologica,' a work +which, though it was not completed, is the greatest production of +Thomas Aquinas. In the prologue he says:--</p> +<blockquote>"Since the teacher of Catholic truth should instruct +not only those who are advanced, but also those who are beginning, +it is our purpose in this work to treat subjects pertaining to the +Christian religion in a manner adapted to the instruction of +beginners. For we have considered that young students encounter +various obstacles in the writings of different authors: partly +because of the multiplication of useless questions, articles, and +arguments; partly because the essentials of knowledge are dealt +with, not in scientific order, but according as the explanation of +books required or an occasion for disputing offered; partly because +the frequent repetition of the same things begets weariness and +confusion in the hearer's mind. Endeavoring, therefore, to avoid +these defects and others of a like nature, we shall try, with +confidence in the Divine assistance, to treat of sacred science +briefly and clearly, so far as the subject-matter will +allow."</blockquote> +<p>The work intended for novices in theology, and so +unpretentiously opened, is then portioned out in these words:--</p> +<blockquote>"Whereas, the chief aim of this science is to impart a +knowledge of God, not only as existing in Himself, but also as the +origin and end of all things, and especially of rational creatures, +we therefore shall treat first of God; second, of the rational +creature's tendency toward God; third, of Christ, who as man is the +way whereby we approach unto God. Concerning God, we shall consider +(1) those things which pertain to the Divine Essence; (2) those +which regard the distinction of persons; (3) those which concern +the origin of creatures from Him. As to the Divine Essence we shall +inquire (1) whether God exists; (2) what is, or rather what is not, +the manner of His existence; (3) how He acts through His knowledge, +will, and power. Under the first¸ heading we shall ask +whether God's existence is self-evident, whether it can be +demonstrated, and whether God does exist."</blockquote> +<p>Similar subdivisions precede each question as it comes up for +discussion, so that the student is enabled to take a comprehensive +view, and perceive the bearing of one problem on another as well as +its place in the wide domain of theology. As a consequence, those +who are familiar with the 'Summa' find in it an object-lesson of +breadth, proportion, and orderly thinking. Its chief merit, +however, lies in the fact that it is the most complete and +systematic exhibition of the harmony between reason and faith. In +it, more than in any other of his works, is displayed the mind of +its author. It determines his place in the history of thought, and +closes what may be called the second period in the development of +Christian theology. Scholasticism, the high point of intellectual +activity in the Church, reached its culmination in Thomas +Aquinas.</p> +<p>His works have been a rich source of information for Catholic +theologians, and his opinions have always commanded respect. The +polemics of the sixteenth century brought about a change in +theological methods, the positive and critical elements becoming +more prominent. Modern rationalism, however, has intensified the +discussion of those fundamental problems which St. Thomas handled +so thoroughly. As his writings furnish both a forcible statement of +the Catholic position and satisfactory replies to many current +objections, the Thomistic system has recently been restored. The +"neo-scholastic movement" was initiated by Leo XIII. in his +Encyclical 'Æterni Patris,' dated August 4th, 1879, and its +rapid growth has made Aquinas the model of Catholic thought in the +nineteenth century, as he certainly was in the thirteenth.</p> +<p>The subjoined extracts show his views on some questions of +actual importance, with regard not alone to mediæval +controversies, but to the problems of the universe, which will +press on the minds of men twenty-five hundred years in the future +as they did twenty-five hundred years in the past.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-151.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_VALUE_OF_OUR_CONCEPTS_OF_THE_DEITY"></a>ON THE +VALUE OF OUR CONCEPTS OF THE DEITY</h2> +<br> +<center>Part I--From the 'Summa Theologica'</center> +<br> +<p>It is obvious that terms implying negation or extrinsic relation +in no way signify the divine substance, but simply the removal of +some attribute from Him, or His relation with other beings, or +rather the relation of other beings with Him. As to appellations +that are absolute and positive,--such as <i>good, wise</i>, and the +like,--various opinions have been entertained. It was held by some +that these terms, though used affirmatively, were in reality +devised for the purpose of elimination, and not with the intent of +positive attribution. Hence, they claimed, when we say that God is +a living being, we mean that God's existence is not that of +inanimate things; and so on for other predicates. This was the +position of Rabbi Moses. According to another view these terms are +employed to denote a relation between God and creatures; so that +for instance, when we say, God is good, we mean, God is the cause +of goodness in all things.</p> +<p>Both interpretations, however, are open to a threefold +objection. For, in the first place, neither can offer any +explanation of the fact that certain terms are applied to the Deity +in preference to others. As He is the source of all good, so He is +the cause of all things corporeal; consequently, if by affirming +that God is good we merely imply that He is the cause of goodness, +we might with equal reason assert that He is a corporeal being.</p> +<p>Again, the inference from these positions would be that all +terms applied to God have only a secondary import, such, for +instance, as we give to the word <i>healthy</i>, as applied to +medicine; whereby we signify that it is productive of health in the +organism, while the organism itself is said, properly and +primarily, to be healthy.</p> +<p>In the third place, these interpretations distort the meaning of +those who employ such terms in regard to the Deity. For, when they +declare that He is the living God, they certainly mean something +else than that He is the cause of our life or that He is different +from inanimate bodies.</p> +<p>We are obliged, therefore, to take another view, and to affirm +that such terms denote the substantial nature of God, but that, at +the same time, their representative force is deficient. They +express the knowledge which our intellect has of God; and since +this knowledge is gotten from created things, we know Him according +to the measure in which creatures represent Him. Now God, +absolutely and in all respects perfect, possesses every perfection +that is found in His creatures. Each created thing, therefore, +inasmuch as it has some perfection, resembles and manifests the +Deity; not as a being of the same species or genus with itself, but +as a supereminent source from which are derived its effects. They +represent Him, in a word, just as the energy of the terrestrial +elements represents the energy of the sun.</p> +<p>Our manner of speech, therefore, denotes the substance of God, +yet denotes it imperfectly, because creatures are imperfect +manifestations of Him. When we say that God is good, we do not mean +that He is the cause of goodness or that He is not evil. Our +meaning is this: What we call goodness in creatures preexists in +God in a far higher way. Whence it follows, not that God is good +because He is the source of good, but rather, because He is good, +He imparts goodness to all things else; as St. Augustine says, +"Inasmuch as He is good, <i>we are</i>."</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="HOW_CAN_THE_ABSOLUTE_BE_A_CAUSE"></a>HOW CAN THE +ABSOLUTE BE A CAUSE?</h2> +<center>From the 'Quæstiones Disputatæ'</center> +<br> +<p>The relations which are spoken of as existing between God and +creatures are not really in Him. A real relation is that which +exists between two things. It is mutual or bilateral then, only +when its basis in both correlates is the same. Such is the case in +all quantitive relations. Quantity being essentially the same in +all quanta, gives rise to relations which are real in both +terms--in the part, for instance, and in the whole, in the unit of +measurement and in that which is measured.</p> +<p>But where a relation originates in causation, as between that +which is active and that which is passive, it does not always +concern both terms. True, that which is acted upon, or set in +motion, or produced, must be related to the source of these +modifications, since every effect is dependent upon its cause. And +it is equally true that such causes or agencies are in some cases +related to their effects, namely, when the production of those +effects redounds in some way to the well-being of the cause itself. +This is evidently what happens when like begets like, and thereby +perpetuates, so far as may be, its own species.... There are cases, +nevertheless, in which a thing, without being related, has other +things related to it. The cognizing subject is related to that +which is the object of cognition--to a thing which is outside the +mind. But the thing itself is in no way affected by this cognition, +since the mental process is confined to the mind, and therefore +does not bring about any change in the object. Hence the relation +established by the act of knowing cannot be in that which is +known.</p> +<p>The same holds good of sensation. For though the physical object +sets up changes in the sense-organ, and is related to it as other +physical agencies are related to the things on which they act, +still, the sensation implies, over and above the organic change, a +subjective activity of which the external activity is altogether +devoid. Likewise, we say that a man is at the right of a pillar +because, with his power of locomotion, he can take his stand at the +right or the left, before or behind, above or below. But obviously +these relations, vary them as we will, imply nothing in the +stationary pillar, though they are real in the man who holds or +changes his position. Once more, a coin has nothing to do with the +action that gives it its value, since this action is a human +convention; and a man is quite apart from the process which +produces his image. Between a man and his portrait there is a +relation, but this is real in the portrait only. Between the coin +and its current value there is a relation, but this is not real in +the coin.</p> +<p>Now for the application. God's action is not to be understood as +going out from Him and terminating in that which He creates. His +action is Himself; consequently altogether apart from the genus of +created being whereby the creature is related to Him. And again, he +gains nothing by creating, or, as Avicenna puts it, His creative +action is in the highest degree generous. It is also manifest that +His action involves no modification of His being--without changing, +He causes the changeable. Consequently, though creatures are +related to Him, as effects to their cause, He is not really related +to them.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_PRODUCTION_OF_LIVING_THINGS"></a>ON THE +PRODUCTION OF LIVING THINGS</h2> +<center>From the 'Quæstiones Disputatæ'</center> +<br> +<p>According to Augustine, the passage "Let the earth bring forth +the green herb" means, not that plants were then actually produced +in their proper nature, but that a germinative power was given the +earth to produce plants by the work of propagation; so that the +earth is then said to have brought forth the green herb and the +fruit-yielding tree, inasmuch as it received the power of producing +them. This position is strengthened by the authority of Scripture +(Gen. ii. 4):--"These are the generations of the heaven and the +earth, when they were created, in the day that the Lord God made +the heaven and the earth, and every plant in the field before it +sprang up in the earth, and every herb in the ground before it +grew." From this text we infer, first, that all the works of the +six days were created in the day that God made heaven and earth and +every plant of the field; and consequently that all plants, which +are said to have been created on the third day, were produced at +the same time that God created heaven and earth. The second +inference is that plants were then produced not actually, but only +according to causal virtues, in that the power to produce them was +given to the earth. And this is meant when it is said that He +produced every plant of the field before it actually arose upon the +earth by His dispositive action, and every herb of the earth before +it actually grew. Hence, before they came forth in reality, they +were made causally in the earth.</p> +<p>This view, moreover, is supported by reason. For in those first +days God made the creature either in its cause, or in its origin, +or in its actuality, by the work from which He afterward rested; He +nevertheless works even till now in the administration of things +created by the work of propagation. To this latter process belongs +the actual production of plants from the earth, because all that is +needed to bring them forth is the energy of the heavenly bodies as +their father, so to say, and the power of the earth in place of a +mother. Plants, therefore, were produced on the third day, not +actually, but causally. After the six days, however, they were +actually brought forth, according to their proper species and in +their proper nature, by the work of administration.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_ARABIAN_NIGHTS"></a>THE ARABIAN NIGHTS</h2> +<h3>BY RICHARD GOTTHEIL</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he Arabian Nights--or, more accurately, 'The Thousand Nights and +a Night' (Alf Leilah wa-leílah)--have gained a popularity in +Europe, since they were first turned into a modern language by +Galland in 1704, which rivals, if it does not exceed, their regard +in the East. They opened up to Europe a wealth of anecdote, a +fertility of daring fancy, which has not ceased to amuse and to +interest. It is not their value as literature which has placed them +so high in the popular esteem, both in the East and in the West; +for they are written in a style not a little slovenly, the same +scenes, figures, and expressions are repeated to monotony, and the +poetical extracts which are interwoven are often of very uncertain +excellence. Some of the modern translations--as by Payne and +Burton--have improved upon the original, and have often given it a +literary flavor which it certainly has not in the Arabic. For this +reason, native historians and writers seldom range the stories in +their literary chronicles, or even deign to mention them by name. +The 'Nights' have become popular from the very fact that they +affect little; that they are <i>contes</i> pure and simple, +picturing the men and the manners of a certain time without any +attempt to gloss over their faults or to excuse their foibles: so +that "the doings of the ancients become a lesson to those that +follow after, that men look upon the admonitory events that have +happened to others and take warning." All classes of men are to be +found there: Harun al-Rashid and his viziers, as well as the baker, +the cobbler, the merchant, the courtesan. The very coarseness is a +part of the picture; though it strikes us more forcibly than it did +those to whom the tales were told and for whom they were written +down. It is a kaleidoscope of the errors and failings and virtues +of the men whose daily life it records; it is also a picture of the +wonderfully rich fantasy of the Oriental mind.</p> +<br> +<a name="illus0622.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0622i.jpg" width="100%" alt= +""></p> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0622.jpg" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>In the better texts (<i>i.e.</i>, of Boulak and Calcutta) there +are no less than about two hundred and fifty stories; some long, +others short. There is no direct order in which they follow one +upon the other. The chief story may at any moment suggest a +subordinate one; and as the work proceeds, the looseness and +disconnectedness of the parts increase. The whole is held together +by a "frame"; a device which has passed into the epic of Ariosto +('Orlando Furioso,' xxviii.), and which is not unlike that used by +Boccaccio ('Decameron') and Chaucer ('Canterbury Tales'). This +"frame" is, in short:--A certain king of India, Shahriyar, aroused +by his wife's infidelity, determines to make an end of all the +women in his kingdom. As often as he takes a wife, on the morrow he +orders her slain. Shahrzad, the daughter of his Vizier, takes upon +herself the task of ridding the king of his evil intent. On the +night of her marriage to the king, she, together with her sister +Dunyazad, so engrosses his mind with her stories that the king +seeks their continuance night after night; thus she wards off her +fate for nearly three years. At the end of that time she has borne +the king three male children; and has, by the sprightliness of her +mind, gradually drawn all the conceit out of him, so that his land +is at rest. The tales told within this frame may be divided into: +(<i>a</i>) Histories, or long romances, which are often founded +upon historical facts; (<i>b</i>) Anecdotes and short stories, +which deal largely with the caliphs of the house of Abbas; +(<i>c</i>) Romantic fiction, which, though freely mingled with +supernatural intervention, may also be purely fictitious (<i>contes +fantastiques</i>); (<i>d</i>) Fables and Apologues; (<i>e</i>) +Tales, which serve the teller as the peg upon which to hang and to +exhibit his varied learning. In addition to this "frame," there is +a thread running through the whole; for the grand theme which is +played with so many variations is the picturing of love--in the +palace and in the hovel, in the city and in the desert. The scenes +are laid in all the four corners of the globe, but especially in +the two great centres of Muhammadan activity, Bagdad and Cairo. It +is not a matter of chance that Harun al-Rashid is the Caliph to +whom the legends of the 'Nights' have given a crown so very +different from the one which he really wore. Though his character +was often far from that which is pictured here, he was still a +patron of art and of literature. His time was the heyday of +Muhammadan splendor; and his city was the metropolis to which the +merchants and the scholars flocked from the length and breadth of +Arab dominion.</p> +<p>To unravel the literary history of such a collection is +difficult indeed, for it has drawn upon all civilizations and all +literatures. But since Hammer-Purgstall and De Sacy began to unwind +the skein, many additional turns have been given. The idea of the +"frame" in general comes undoubtedly from India; and such stories +as 'The Barber's Fifth Brother,' 'The Prince and the Afrit's +Mistress,' have been "traced back to the Hitopadesa, Panchatantra, +and Katha Sarit Sagara." The 'Story of the King, his Seven Viziers, +his Son, and his Favorite,' is but a late version, through the +Pahlavi, of the Indian Sindibad Romance of the time of Alexander +the Great. A number of fables are easily paralleled by those in the +famous collection of Bidpai (see the list in Jacobs's 'The Fables +of Bidpai,' London, 1888, lxviii.). This is probably true of the +whole little collection of beast fables in the One Hundred and +Forty-sixth Night; for such fables are based upon the different +reincarnations of the Buddha and the doctrine of metempsychosis. +The story of Jali'ad and the Vizier Shammas is distinctly reported +to have been translated from the Persian into Arabic. Even Greek +sources have not been left untouched, if the picture of the +cannibal in the adventures of Sindbad the Sailor be really a reflex +of the story of Odysseus and Polyphemus. Arabic historians--such as +Tabari, Masudi, Kazwini, al-Jaúzi--and the Kitab al-Aghani, +have furnished innumerable anecdotes and tales; while such old +Arabic poets as Imr al-Kais, Alkamah, Nabhighah, etc., have +contributed occasional verses.</p> +<p>It is manifest that such a mass of tales and stories was not +composed at any one time, or in any one place. Many must have +floated around in drinking-rooms and in houses of revelry for a +long time before they were put into one collection. Even to this +day the story of Ali Baba is current among the Bedouins in Sinai. +Whenever the digest was first made, it is certain that stories were +added at a later time. This is evident from the divergences seen in +the different manuscripts, and by the additional stories collected +by Payne and Burton. But in their present form, everything points +to the final redaction of the 'Nights' in Egypt. Of all the cities +mentioned, Cairo is described the most minutely; the manners and +customs of the <i>personæ</i> are those of Egyptian +society--say from the thirteenth to the sixteenth century. For this +we have the warrant of Mr. Lane, than whom no one is to be heard +upon this subject with greater respect. That such stories as these +were popular in Egypt seems to follow from the fact that the only +mention of them is found in Makrisi's 'Description of Cairo' (1400) +and in Abu al-Mahasin, another historian of Egypt (1470). The +collection cannot have been made later than 1548, the date placed +by a reader on the manuscript used by Galland. But that its date is +not much earlier is shown by various chance references. The mention +of coffee (discovered in the fourteenth century); of cannon (first +mentioned in Egypt in 1383); of the wearing of different-colored +garments by Muslims, Jews, and Christians (instituted in 1301 by +Muhammad ibn Kelaün); of the order of Carandaliyyah (which did +not exist until the thirteenth century); of Sultani peaches (the +city Sultaniyyah was founded in the middle of the thirteenth +century)--point to the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries as the +approximate date of the final composition of the 'Nights.' This is +supported by the mention of the office of the Sheikh al-Islam, an +office not created before the year 1453. Additions, such as the +'Story of Abu Ker and Abu Zer,' were made as late as the sixteenth +century; and tobacco, which is mentioned, was not introduced into +Europe until the year 1560. The thirteenth, fourteenth, and +fifteenth centuries are a period of the revival of letters in +Egypt, which might well have induced some Arab lover of folk-lore +to write down a complete copy of these tales. The Emperor +Salah-al-din (1169) is the last historical personage mentioned, and +there is absolutely no trace of Shiite heresy to be found in the +whole collection. This omission would be impossible had they been +gathered up at the time of the heretical Fatimide dynasty +(900-1171).</p> +<p>But it seems equally certain that the 'Nights' did not originate +altogether in the land of the Nile. The figure of Harun al-Rashid, +the many doings in the "City of Peace" (Bagdad), lead us +irresistibly over to the Eastern capital of the Muhammadan Empire. +The genii and Afrits and much of the gorgeous picturing remind one +of Persia, or at least of Persian influence. The Arabs were largely +indebted to Persia for literature of a kind like this; and we know +that during the ninth and tenth centuries many books were +translated from the Pahlavi and Syriac. Thus Ibn al-Mukaffah (760) +gave the Arabs the 'Kholanamah,' the 'Amirnamah' (Mirror of +Princes), 'Kalilah,' and 'Dimnan.' etc. The historian Masudi (943) +expressly refers the story of the 'Thousand and One Nights' to a +Persian original. "The first who composed such tales and made use +of them were the ancient Persians. The Arabs translated them, and +made others like them." He then continues ('Prairies d'Or,' ed. De +Meynard) and mentions the book 'Hezar Afsane,' which means "a +thousand tales," a book popularly called the 'Thousand and One +Nights,' and containing the story of the king and his vizier, and +of his daughter Shirazaad and her slave-girl Dinazad. Other books +of the same kind are the book of Simas, containing stories of +Indian kings and viziers, the book of Sindibad, etc. (See also +'Hanzæ Ispahanensis Annalium,' ed. Gottwaldt, 1844, page 41.) +A similar statement is made by Abu Yákub al-Nadim (987) in +the 'Fihrist' (ed. Flügel, page 304):--"This book, 'Hezar +Afsane,' is said to have been written by the Princess Homai (or +Homain), daughter of Bahman. It comprises a Thousand Nights, but +less than two hundred stories; for a night story often was related +in a number of nights. I have seen it many times complete; but it +is in truth a meagre and uninteresting publication." A translation +of the 'Hezar Afsane' was made into Arabic, and it is again +mentioned in the middle of the twelfth century by Abdulhec +al-Házraji; but neither it nor the original Pahlavi has yet +been found. It thus remains a matter of speculation as to how much +of the 'Hezar Afsane' has found its way into the 'Nights.' It is +evident that to it they are indebted for the whole general idea, +for many of the principal names, and probably for the groundwork of +a great many of the stories. The change of the title from 'The +Thousand' to 'The Thousand and One' is due to the fact that the +Arabs often expressed "a large number" by this second cipher. But +the 'Nights' cannot be a translation from the Persian; for the +other two books mentioned by Masudi are in the Arabic collection. +Lane supposes the relationship to be that of the 'Æneid' to +the 'Odyssey.' But it is probably closer: one fifth of the +collection which, according to Payne, is common to all manuscripts, +will doubtless be found to be based on the Pahlavi original. That +the dependence is not greater is evident from the absence of the +great heroes of the Persian Epos--Feridun, Zer, Isfandyar, etc. The +heroes are all Arabs; the life depicted is wholly Arabic.</p> +<p>The original Persian 'Nights' must be quite old. Homai, the +Persian Semiramis, is mentioned in the 'Avesta'; and in Firdausi +she is the daughter and the wife of Artaxerxes Longimanus (B.C. +465-425). Her mother was a Jewess, Shahrazaad, one of the captives +brought from Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar; she afterward delivered +her nation from captivity. Tabari calls Esther, of Old Testament +fame, the mother of Bahman; and Professor de Goeje (de Gids, 1886, +iii. 385) has cleverly identified the Homai of the old 'Nights,' +not only with Shahrazaad of the Arabian, but also with Esther of +the Bible. That his argument holds good is seen from its acceptance +by Kuenen ('Hist. Krit. Einleitung,' 1, 2, page 222), August +Müller (Deutsche Rundschau, 1887), and Darmesteter ('Actes du +Huitième Congrès des Orientalistes,' 1893, ii. +196).</p> +<p>The best translations of the 'Nights' have been made by Antoine +Galland in French (12 vols., Paris, 1704-1712); by G. Weil in +German (4 vols., 1838-1842); and in English by E.W. Lane (3 vols., +1839-1841), John Payne (13 vols., 1882-1884), and Richard Burton +(16 vols., 1885-1888). Lane's and Burton's translations are +enriched by copious notes of great value.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-125.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_STORY_OF_THE_CITY_OF_BRASS"></a>FROM 'THE +STORY OF THE CITY OF BRASS'</h2> +<center>Part of Nights 566 and 578: Translation of E.W. +Lane</center> +<br> +<p>There was in olden time, and in an ancient age and period, in +Damascus of Syria, a King, one of the Khaleefehs, named +Abd-El-Melik, the son of Marwán; and he was sitting, one +day, having with him the great men of his empire, consisting of +Kings and Sultans, when a discussion took place among them +respecting the traditions of former nations. They called to mind +the stories of our lord Suleymán the son of Daood (on both +of whom be peace!) and the dominion and authority which God (whose +name be exalted!) had bestowed upon him, over mankind and the Jinn +and the birds and the wild beasts and other things; and they said, +We have heard from those who were before us, that God (whose +perfection be extolled, and whose name be exalted!) bestowed not +upon any one the like of that which He bestowed upon our lord +Suleymán, and that he attained to that to which none other +attained, so that he used to imprison the Jinn and the +Márids and the Devils in bottles of brass, and pour molten +lead over them, and seal this cover over them with his +signet....</p> +<p>And the Prince of the Faithful, Abd-El-Melik, the son of +Marwán, wondered at these words, and said, Extolled be the +perfection of God! Suleymán was endowed with a mighty +dominion!--And among those who were present in that assembly was +En-Fábighah Edh-Dhubyánee; and he said, Tálib +hath spoken truth in that which he hath related, and the proof of +his veracity is the saying of the Wise, the First [thus +versified]:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And [consider] Suleymán, when the Deity said to him, +Perform</p> +<p class="i1">the office of Khaleefeh, and govern with +diligence;</p> +<p>And whoso obeyeth thee, honor him for doing so; and whoso</p> +<p class="i1">disobeyeth thee, imprison him forever.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>He used to put them into bottles of brass, and to cast them into +the sea.</p> +<p>And the Prince of the Faithful approved of these words, and +said, By Allah, I desire to see some of these bottles! So +Tálib the son of Sahl replied, O Prince of the Faithful, +thou art able to do so and yet remain in thy country. Send to thy +brother Abd-El-Azeez, the son of Marwán, desiring him to +bring them to thee from the Western Country, that he may write +orders to Moosà to journey from the Western Country, to this +mountain which we have mentioned, and to bring thee what thou +desirest of these bottles; for the furthest tract of his province +is adjacent to this mountain.--And the Prince of the Faithful +approved of his advice, and said, O Tálib, thou has spoken +truth in that which thou hast said, and I desire that thou be my +messenger to Moosà the son of Nuseyr for this purpose, and +thou shalt have a white ensign, together with what thou shalt +desire of wealth or dignity or other things, and I will be thy +substitute to take care of thy family. To this Tálib +replied, Most willingly, O Prince of the Faithful. And the +Khaleefeh said to him, Go, in dependence on the blessing of God, +and his aid....</p> +<p>So Tálib went forth on his way to Egypt ... and to Upper +Egypt, until they came to the Emeer Moosà, the son of +Nuseyr; and when he knew of his approach he went forth to him and +met him, and rejoiced at his arrival; and Tálib handed to +him the letter. So he took it and read it, and understood its +meaning; and he put it upon his head, saying, I hear and obey the +command of the Prince of the Faithful. He determined to summon his +great men; and they presented themselves; and he inquired of them +respecting that which had been made known to him by the letter; +whereupon they said, O Emeer, if thou desire him who will guide +thee to that place, have recourse to the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, the +son of Abd-El-Kuddoos Es-Sa-moodee; for he is a knowing man, and +hath traveled much, and he is acquainted with the deserts and +wastes and the seas, and their inhabitants and their wonders, and +the countries of their districts. Have recourse, therefore, to him, +and he will direct thee to the object of thy desire.--Accordingly +he gave orders to bring him, and he came before him; and lo, he was +a very old man, whom the vicissitudes of years and times had +rendered decrepit. The Emeer Moosà saluted him, and said to +him, O sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, our lord the Prince of the Faithful, +Abd-El-Melik the son of Marwán, hath commanded us thus and +thus, and I possess little knowledge of that land, and it hath been +told me that thou art acquainted with that country and the routes. +Hast thou then a wish to accomplish the affair of the Prince of the +Faithful?--The sheykh replied, Know, O Emeer, that this route is +difficult, far extending, with few tracks. The Emeer said to him, +How long a period doth it require? He answered, It is a journey of +two years and some months going, and the like returning; and on the +way are difficulties and horrors, and extraordinary and wonderful +things. Moreover, thou art a warrior for the defense of the faith, +and our country is near unto the enemy; so perhaps the Christians +may come forth during our absence; it is expedient, therefore, that +thou leave in thy province one to govern it.--He replied, Well. And +he left his son Hároon as his substitute in his province, +exacted an oath of fidelity to him, and commanded the troops that +they should not oppose him, but obey him in all that he should +order them to do. And they heard his words, and obeyed him. His son +Hároon was of great courage, an illustrious hero, and a bold +champion; and the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad pretended to him that the +place in which were the things that the Prince of the Faithful +desired was four months' journey distant, on the shore of the sea, +and that throughout the whole route were halting-places, adjacent +one to another, and grass and springs. And he said, God will +assuredly make this affair easy to us through the blessing +attendant upon thee, O Viceroy of the Prince of the Faithful. Then +the Emeer Moosà said, Knowest thou if any one of the Kings +have trodden this land before us? He answered him, Yes, O Emeer: +this land belonged to the King of Alexandria, Darius the Greek.</p> +<p>[The cavalcade fare on, and soon reach a first "extraordinary +and wonderful thing,"--the palace-tomb of great "Koosh, the son of +Sheddad," full of impressive mortuary inscriptions that set the +party all a-weeping. Thence--]</p> +<p>The soldiers proceeded, with the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad before +them showing them the way, until all the first day had passed, and +the second, and the third. They then came to a high hill, at which +they looked, and lo, upon it was a horseman of brass, on the top of +whose spear was a wide and glistening head that almost deprived the +beholder of sight, and on it was inscribed, O thou who comest unto +me, if thou know not the way that leadeth to the City of Brass, rub +the hand of the horseman, and he will turn, and then will stop, and +in whatsoever direction he stoppeth, thither proceed, without fear +and without difficulty; for it will lead thee to the City of +Brass.--And when the Emeer Moosà had rubbed the hand of the +horseman, it turned like the blinding lightning, and faced a +different direction from that in which they were traveling.</p> +<p>The party therefore turned thither and journeyed on, and it was +the right way. They took that route, and continued their course the +same day and the next night until they had traversed a wide tract +of country. And as they were proceeding, one day, they came to a +pillar of black stone, wherein was a person sunk to his arm-pits, +and he had two huge wings, and four arms; two of them like those of +the sons of Adam, and two like the forelegs of lions, with claws. +He had hair upon his head like the tails of horses, and two eyes +like two burning coals, and he had a third eye, in his forehead, +like the eye of the lynx, from which there appeared sparks of fire. +He was black and tall; and he was crying out, Extolled be the +perfection of my Lord, who hath appointed me this severe affliction +and painful torture until the day of resurrection! When the party +beheld him, their reason fled from them, and they were stupefied at +the sight of his form, and retreated in flight; and the Emeer +Moosà said to the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, What is this? He +answered, I know not what he is. And the Emeer said, Draw near to +him, and investigate his case: perhaps he will discover it, and +perhaps thou wilt learn his history. The sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad +replied, May God amend the state of the Emeer! Verily we fear +him.--Fear ye not, rejoined the Emeer; for he is withheld from +injuring you and others by the state in which he is. So the sheykh +'Abd-Es-Samad drew near to him, and said to him, O thou person, +what is thy name, and what is thy nature, and what hath placed thee +here in this manner? And he answered him, As to me, I am an 'Efreet +of the Jinn, and my name is Dáhish the son of El-Amash, and +I am restrained here by the majesty, confined by the power, [of +God,] tormented as long as God (to whom be ascribed might and +glory!) willeth. Then the Emeer Moosà said, O sheykh +'Abd-Es-Samad, ask him what is the cause of his confinement in this +pillar. He therefore asked respecting that, and the 'Efreet +answered him, Verily my story is wonderful, and it is this:</p> +<p>[The Evil Spirit narrates to them his history, being part of the +famous war between Solomon and the Jinn.]</p> +<p>The party therefore wondered at him, and at the horrible nature +of his form; and the Emeer Moosà said, There is no deity but +God! Suleymán was endowed with a mighty dominion!--And the +sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad said to the 'Efreet, O thou, I ask thee +concerning a thing of which do thou inform us. The 'Efreet replied, +Ask concerning what thou wilt. And the sheykh said, Are there in +this place any of the 'Efreets confined in bottles of brass from +the time of Suleymán, on whom be peace? He answered, Yes, in +the Sea of El-Karkar, where are a people of the descendants of Nooh +(on whom be peace!), whose country the deluge reached not, and they +are separated there from [the rest of] the sons of Adam.--And +where, said the sheykh, is the way to the City of Brass, and the +place wherein are the bottles? What distance is there between us +and it? The 'Efreet answered, It is near. So the party left him and +proceeded; and there appeared to them a great black object, with +two [seeming] fires corresponding with each other in position, in +the distance, in that black object; whereupon the Emeer +Moosà said to the sheykh, What is this great black object, +and what are these two corresponding fires? The guide answered him, +Be rejoiced, O Emeer; for this is the City of Brass, and this is +the appearance of it that I find described in the Book of Hidden +Treasures; that its wall is of black stones, and it hath two towers +of brass of El-Andalus, which the beholder seeth resembling two +corresponding fires; and thence it is named the City of Brass. They +ceased not to proceed until they arrived at it; and lo, it was +lofty, strongly fortified, rising high into the air, impenetrable: +the height of its walls was eighty cubits, and it had five and +twenty gates, none of which would open but by means of some +artifice; and there was not one gate to it that had not, within the +city, one like it: such was the beauty of the construction and +architecture of the city. They stopped before it, and endeavored to +discover one of its gates; but they could not; and the Emeer +Moosà said to the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, O sheykh, I see not +to this city any gate. The sheykh replied, O Emeer, thus do I find +it described in the Book of Hidden Treasures; that it hath five and +twenty gates, and that none of its gates may be opened but from +within the city. And how, said the Emeer, can we contrive to enter +it, and divert ourselves with a view of its wonders?</p> +<p>Then the Emeer Moosà ordered one of his young men to +mount a camel, and ride round the city, in the hope that he might +discover a trace of a gate, or a place lower than that to which +they were opposite. So one of his young men mounted, and proceeded +around it for two days with their nights, prosecuting his journey +with diligence, and not resting; and when the third day arrived, he +came in sight of his companions, and he was astounded at that which +he beheld of the extent of the city, and its height. Then he said, +O Emeer, the easiest place in it is this place at which ye have +alighted. And thereupon the Emeer Moosà took Tálib +the son of Sahl, and the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, and they ascended a +mountain opposite the city, and overlooking it; and when they had +ascended that mountain, they saw a city than which eyes had not +beheld any greater. Its pavilions were lofty, and its domes were +shining; its mansions were in good condition, and its rivers were +running; its trees were fruitful, and its gardens bore ripe +produce. It was a city with impenetrable gates, empty, still, +without a voice or a cheering inhabitant, but the owl hooting in +its quarters, and birds skimming in circles in its areas, and the +raven croaking in its districts and its great thoroughfare-streets, +and bewailing those who had been in it. The Emeer Moosà +paused, sorrowing for its being devoid of inhabitants, and its +being despoiled of people and dwellers; and he said, Extolled be +the perfection of Him whom ages and times change not, the Creator +of the creation by his power! And while he was extolling the +perfection of God, (to whom be ascribed might and glory!) he +happened to look aside, and lo, there were seven tablets of white +marble, appearing from a distance. So he approached them, and +behold, they were sculptured and inscribed; and he ordered that +their writing should be read: therefore the sheykh Abd-Es-Samad +advanced and examined them and read them; and they contained +admonition, and matter for example and restraint, unto those +endowed with faculties of discernment. Upon the first tablet was +inscribed, in the ancient Greek character,--</p> +<p>O son of Adam, how heedless art thou of the case of him who hath +been before thee! Thy years and age have diverted thee from +considering him. Knowest thou not that the cup of death will be +filled for thee, and that in a short time thou wilt drink it? Look +then to thyself before entering thy grave. Where are those who +possessed the countries and abased the servants of God and led +armies? Death hath come upon them; and God is the terminator of +delights and the separator of companions and the devastator of +flourishing dwellings; so He hath transported them from the +amplitude of palaces to the straightness of the graves.</p> +<p>And in the lower part of the tablet were inscribed these +verses:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Where are the Kings and the peoplers of the earth? They have</p> +<p class="i1">quitted that which they have built and peopled;</p> +<p>And in the grave they are pledged for their past actions: +there</p> +<p class="i1">after destruction, they have become putrid +corpses.</p> +<p>Where are the troops? They repelled not, nor profited. And</p> +<p class="i1">where is that which they collected and hoarded?</p> +<p>The decree of the Lord of the Throne surprised them. Neither</p> +<p>riches nor refuge saved them from it.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>And the Emeer Moosà fainted; his tears ran down upon his +cheeks, and he said, By Allah, indifference to the world is the +most appropriate and the most sure course! Then he caused an +inkhorn and a paper to be brought, and he wrote the inscription of +the first tablet; after which he drew near to the second tablet, +and the third, and the fourth; and having copied what was inscribed +on them, he descended from the mountain; and the world had been +pictured before his eyes.</p> +<p>And when he came back to the troops, they passed the day +devising means of entering the city; and the Emeer Moosà +said to his Wezeer, Tálib the son of Sahl, and to those of +his chief officers who were around him, How shall we contrive to +enter the city, that we may see its wonders? Perhaps we shall find +in it something by which we may ingratiate ourselves with the +Prince of the Faithful.--Tálib the son of Sahl replied, May +God continue the prosperity of the Emeer! Let us make a ladder, and +mount upon it, and perhaps we shall gain access to the gate from +within.--And the Emeer said, This is what occurred to my mind, and +excellent is the advice. Then he called to the carpenters and +blacksmiths, and ordered them to make straight some pieces of wood, +and to construct a ladder covered with plates of iron. And they did +so, and made it strong. They employed themselves in constructing it +a whole month, and many men were occupied in making it. And they +set it up and fixed it against the wall, and it proved to be equal +to the wall in height, as though it had been made for it before +that day. So the Emeer Moosà wondered at it, and said, God +bless you! It seemeth, from the excellence of your work, as though +ye had adapted it by measurement to the wall.--He then said to the +people, Which of you will ascend this ladder, and mount upon the +wall, and walk along it, and contrive means of descending into the +city, that he may see how the case is, and then inform us of the +mode of opening the gate? And one of them answered, I will ascend +it, O Emeer, and descend and open the gate. The Emeer therefore +replied, Mount. God bless thee!--Accordingly, the man ascended the +ladder until he reached the top of it; when he stood, and fixed his +eyes towards the city, clapped his hands, and cried out with his +loudest voice, saying, Thou art beautiful! Then he cast himself +down into the city, and his flesh became mashed with his bones. So +the Emeer Moosà said, This is the action of the rational. +How then will the insane act? If we do thus with all our +companions, there will not remain of them one; and we shall be +unable to accomplish our affair, and the affair of the Prince of +the Faithful. Depart ye; for we have no concern with this +city.--But one of them said, Perhaps another than this may be more +steady than he. And a second ascended, and a third, and a fourth, +and a fifth; and they ceased not to ascend by that ladder to the +top of the wall, one after another, until twelve men of them had +gone, acting as acted the first. Therefore the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad +said, There is none for this affair but myself, and the experienced +is not like the inexperienced. But the Emeer Moosà said to +him, Thou shalt not do that, nor will I allow thee to ascend to the +top of this wall; for shouldst thou die, thou wouldst be the cause +of the death of us all, and there would not remain of us one; since +thou art the guide of the party. The sheykh however replied, +Perhaps the object will be accomplished by my means, through the +will of God, whose name be exalted! And thereupon all the people +agreed to his ascending.</p> +<p>Then the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad arose, and encouraged himself, and +having said, In the name of God, the Compassionate, the +Merciful!--he ascended the ladder, repeating the praises of God +(whose name be exalted!) and reciting the Verses of Safety, until +he reached the top of the wall; when he clapped his hands, and +fixed his eyes. The people therefore all called out to him, and +said, O sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad, do it not, and cast not thyself down! +And they said, Verily to God we belong, and verily unto him we +return! If the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad fall, we all perish!--Then the +sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad laughed immoderately, and sat a long time +repeating the praises of God, (whose name be exalted!) and reciting +the Verses of Safety; after which he rose with energy, and called +out with his loudest voice, O Emeer, no harm shall befall you; for +God (to whom be ascribed might and glory!) hath averted from me the +effect of the artifice and fraudulence of the Devil, through the +blessing resulting from the utterance of the words, In the name of +God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.--So the Emeer said to him, +What hast thou seen, O sheykh? He answered, When I reached the top +of the wall, I beheld ten damsels, like moons, who made a sign with +their hands, as though they would say, Come to us. And it seemed to +me that beneath me was a sea (or great river) of water; whereupon I +desired to cast myself down, as our companions did: but I beheld +them dead; so I withheld myself from them, and recited some words +of the Book of God, (whose name be exalted!) whereupon God averted +from me the influence of those damsels' artifice, and they departed +from me; therefore I cast not myself down, and God repelled from me +the effect of their artifice and enchantment. There is no doubt +that this is an enchantment and an artifice which the people of +this city contrived in order to repel from it every one who should +desire to look down upon it, and wish to obtain access to it; and +these our companions are laid dead.</p> +<p>He then walked along the wall till he came to the two towers of +brass, when he saw that they had two gates of gold, without locks +upon them, or any sign of the means of opening them. Therefore the +sheykh paused as long as God willed, and looking attentively, he +saw in the middle of one of the gates a figure of a horseman of +brass, having one hand extended, as though he were pointing with +it, and on it was an inscription, which the sheykh read, and lo, it +contained these words:--Turn the pin that is in the middle of the +front of the horseman's body twelve times, and then the gate will +open. So he examined the horseman, and in the middle of the front +of his body was a pin, strong, firm, well fixed; and he turned it +twelve times; whereupon the gate opened immediately, with a noise +like thunder; and the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad entered. He was a +learned man, acquainted with all languages and characters. And he +walked on until he entered a long passage, whence he descended some +steps, and he found a place with handsome wooden benches, on which +were people dead, and over their heads were elegant shields, and +keen swords, and strung bows, and notched arrows. And behind the +[next] gate were a bar of iron, and barricades of wood, and locks +of delicate fabric, and strong apparatus. Upon this, the sheykh +said within himself, Perhaps the keys are with these people. Then +he looked, and lo, there was a sheykh who appeared to be the oldest +of them, and he was upon a high wooden bench among the dead men. So +the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad said, May not the keys of the city be with +this sheykh? Perhaps he was the gate-keeper of the city, and these +were under his authority. He therefore drew near to him, and lifted +up his garments, and lo, the keys were hung to his waist. At the +sight of them, the sheykh 'Abd-Es-Samad rejoiced exceedingly; his +reason almost fled from him in consequence of his joy: and he took +the keys, approached the gate, opened the locks, and pulled the +gate and the barricades and other apparatus which opened, and the +gate also opened, with a noise like thunder, by reason of its +greatness and terribleness, and the enormousness of its apparatus. +Upon this, the sheykh exclaimed, God is most great!--and the people +made the same exclamation with him, rejoicing at the event. The +Emeer Moosà also rejoiced at the safety of the sheykh +'Abd-Es-Samad, and at the opening of the gate of the city; the +people thanked the sheykh for that which he had done, and all the +troops hastened to enter the gate. But the Emeer Moosà cried +out to them, saying to them, O people, if all of us enter, we shall +not be secure from some accident that may happen. Half shall enter, +and half shall remain behind.</p> +<p>The Emeer Moosà then entered the gate, and with him half +of the people, who bore their weapons of war. And the party saw +their companions lying dead: so they buried them. They saw also the +gate-keepers and servants and chamberlains and lieutenants lying +upon beds of silk, all of them dead. And they entered the market of +the city, and beheld a great market, with lofty buildings, none of +which projected beyond another: the shops were open, and the scales +hung up, and the utensils of brass ranged in order, and the +kháns were full of all kinds of goods. And they saw the +merchants dead in their shops: their skins were dried, and their +bones were carious, and they had become examples to him who would +be admonished. They saw likewise four markets of particular shops +filled with wealth. And they left this place, and passed on to the +silk-market, in which were silks and brocades interwoven with red +gold and white silver upon various colours, and the owners were +dead, lying upon skins, and appearing almost as though they would +speak. Leaving these, they went on to the market of jewels and +pearls and jacinths; and they left it, and passed on to the market +of the money-changers, whom they found dead, with varieties of +silks beneath them, and their shops were filled with gold and +silver. These they left, and they proceeded to the market of the +perfumers; and lo, their shops were filled with varieties of +perfumes, and bags of musk, and ambergris, and aloes-wood, and +nedd, and camphor, and other things; and the owners were all dead, +not having with them any food. And when they went forth from the +market of the perfumers, they found near unto it a palace, +decorated, and strongly constructed; and they entered it, and found +banners unfurled, and drawn swords, and strung bows, and shields +hung up by chains of gold and silver, and helmets gilded with red +gold. And in the passages of that palace were benches of ivory, +ornamented with plates of brilliant gold, and with silk, on which +were men whose skins had dried upon the bones: the ignorant would +imagine them to be sleeping; but, from the want of food, they had +died, and tasted mortality. Upon this, the Emeer Moosà +paused, extolling the perfection of God (whose name be exalted!) +and his holiness, and contemplating the beauty of that palace.</p> +<p>[They find the palace a marvel of splendor, but as awfully +silent and mausoleum-like as the rest of the city; and soon reach a +magnificent hall in which lies the dead body of "Jedmur, the +Daughter of the King of the Amalekites," magnificently laid in +state, and magically preserved and protected. Tálib unwisely +and covetously attempts to rob the corpse of jewels; and is +instantly beheaded by its enchanted guards. The Emeer Moosà +and the sage 'Abd-Es-Samad, however, leave the place in safety, +return to Upper Egypt and Syria by way of the Country of the +Blacks, succeed in securing twelve of the wonderful bottles +containing Jinn,--and the tale concludes with the Emeer +Moosà's resignation of his throne that he may die in +Jerusalem, so profoundly has he been affected by the +adventure.]</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_HISTORY_OF_KING_OMAR_BEN_ENNUMAN"></a>FROM +'THE HISTORY OF KING OMAR BEN ENNUMAN, AND<br> +HIS SONS SHERKAN AND ZOULMEKAN'</h2> +<center>Nights 15, 16, 17, and 18: Translation of Professor John +Payne</center> +<br> +<center>THE MEETING OF PRINCE SHERKAN AND PRINCESS ABRIZEH</center> +<br> +<p>There reigned once in the City of Peace [Bagdad], before the +Khalifate of Abdulmelik ben Merwan, a king called Omar ben Ennuman, +who was of the mighty giants, and had subdued the kings of Persia +and the emperors of the East, for none could warm himself at his +fire nor cope with him in battle; and when he was angry there came +sparks out of his nostrils. He had gotten him dominion over all +countries, and God had subjected unto him all creatures; his +commands were obeyed in all the great cities, and his armies +penetrated the most distant lands: the East and West came under his +rule, with the regions between them, Hind and Sind and China and +Hejaz and Yemen and the islands of India and China, Syria and +Mesopotamia and the lands of the blacks and the islands of the +ocean, and all the famous rivers of the earth, Jaxartes and Bactrus +and Nile and Euphrates. He sent his ambassadors to the farthest +parts of the earth to fetch him true report, and they returned with +tidings of justice and peace, bringing him assurance of loyalty and +obedience, and invocations of blessings on his head; for he was a +right noble king, and there came to him gifts and tribute from all +parts of the world. He had a son called Sherkan, who was one of the +prodigies of the age and the likest of all men to his father, who +loved him with an exceeding love and had appointed him to be king +after him. The prince grew up till he reached man's estate, and was +twenty years old, and God subjected all men to him, for he was +gifted with great might and prowess in battle, humbling the +champions and destroying all who made head against him. So, before +long, this Sherkan became famous in all quarters of the world, and +his father rejoiced in him; and his might waxed till he passed all +bounds, and magnified himself, taking by storm the citadels and +strong places.</p> +<p>[The Prince being sent to assist King Afridoun, of the Greeks, +against an enemy, is intrusted with an army of ten thousand +soldiers, and leaves Bagdad in military state.]</p> +<p>Then they loaded the beasts and beat the drums and blew the +clarions and unfurled the banners and the standards, whilst Sherkan +mounted, with the Vizier Dendan by his side, and the standards +waving over them; and the army set out and fared on with the +[Greek] ambassadors in the van till the day departed and the night +came, when they halted and encamped for the night. On the morrow, +as soon as God brought in the day, they took horse and continued +their march, nor did they cease to press onward, guided by the +ambassadors, for the space of twenty days. On the twenty-first day, +at nightfall, they came to a wide and fertile valley whose sides +were thickly wooded and covered with grass, and there Sherkan +called a three-days' halt. So they dismounted and pitched their +tents, dispersing right and left in the valley, whilst the Vizier +Dendan and the ambassadors alighted in the midst.</p> +<p>As for Sherkan, when he had seen the tents pitched and the +troops dispersed on either side, and had commanded his officers and +attendants to camp beside the Vizier Dendan, he gave reins to his +horse, being minded to explore the valley, and himself to mount +guard over the army, having regard to his father's injunctions and +to the fact that they had reached the frontier of the Land of Roum +and were now in the enemy's country. So he rode on alone, along the +valley, till a fourth part of the night was past, when he grew +weary and sleep overcame him so that he could no longer spur his +horse. Now he was used to sleep on horseback; so when drowsiness +got the better of him, he fell asleep, and the horse paced on with +him half the night and entered a forest: but Sherkan awoke not till +the steed smote the earth with his hoof. Then he started from sleep +and found himself among trees: and the moon arose and lighted the +two horizons. He was troubled at finding himself alone in this +place, and spoke the words which whoso says shall never be +confounded--that is to say, "There is no power and no virtue but in +GOD, the most High, the Supreme!" But as he rode on, in fear of the +wild beasts, behold the trees thinned out, and the moon shone out +upon a meadow as it were one of the meads of paradise, and he heard +therein the noise of talk and pleasant laughter, such as ravishes +the wit of men. So King Sherkan dismounted, and tying his horse to +a tree, fared on a little further, till he espied a stream of +running water, and heard a woman talking and saying in Arabic, "By +the virtue of the Messiah, this is not handsome of you! But whoso +speaks the word I will throw her down and bind her with her +girdle!" He followed in the direction of the voice, and saw +gazelles frisking and wild cattle pasturing, and birds in their +various voices expressing joy and gladness; and the earth was +embroidered with all manner flowers and green herbs, even as says +of it the poet, in the following verses:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Earth has no fairer sight to show than this its</p> +<p>blossom-time, With all the gently running streams</p> +<p class="i7">that wander o'er its face,</p> +<p>It is indeed the handiwork of God Omnipotent, The</p> +<p>Lord of every noble gift, and Giver of all grace!</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Midmost the meadow stood a monastery, and within the inclosure a +citadel that rose high into the air in the light of the moon. The +stream passed through the midst of the monastery; and therenigh sat +ten damsels like moons, high-bosomed maids clad in dresses and +ornaments that dazzled the eyes, as says of them the poet:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The meadow glitters with the troops Of lovely ones</p> +<p class="i7">that wander there;</p> +<p>Its grace and beauty doubled are By these that are</p> +<p class="i7">so passing fair;</p> +<p>Virgins, that with their swimming gait, The hearts of</p> +<p class="i7">all that see ensnare,</p> +<p>Along whose necks, like trails of grapes, Stream down</p> +<p class="i7">the tresses of their hair;</p> +<p>Proudly they walk, with eyes that dart The shafts and</p> +<p class="i7">arrows of despair,</p> +<p>And all the champions of the world Are slain by</p> +<p class="i7">their seductive air.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Sherkan looked at the ten girls, and saw in their midst a lady +like the moon at its full, with ringleted and shining forehead, +great black eyes and curling brow-locks, perfect in person and +attributes, as says the poet:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Her beauty beamed on me with glances wonder-bright: The</p> +<p class="i1">slender Syrian spears are not so straight and +slight:</p> +<p>She laid her veil aside, and, lo, her cheeks rose-red! All +manner</p> +<p class="i1">of loveliness was in their sweetest sight</p> +<p>The locks that o'er her brow fell down, were like the night,</p> +<p class="i1">From out of which there shines a morning of +delight.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Then Sherkan heard her say to the girls, "Come on, that I may +wrestle with you, ere the moon set and the dawn come." So they came +up to her, one after another, and she overthrew them, one by one, +and bound their hands behind them, with their girdles. When she had +thrown them all, there turned to her an old woman who was before +her, and said, as if she were wroth with her, "O shameless! dost +thou glory in overthrowing these girls? Behold, I am an old woman, +yet have I thrown them forty times! So what hast thou to boast of? +But if thou have strength to wrestle with me, stand up that I may +grip thee, and put thy head between thy feet." The young lady +smiled at her words, although her heart was full of anger against +her, and said, "O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, wilt indeed wrestle with +me--or dost thou jest with me?" "I mean to wrestle with thee in +very deed," replied she. "Stand up to me then," said the damsel, +"if thou have strength to do so!" When the old woman heard this she +was sore enraged, and her hair stood on end like that of a +hedgehog. Then she sprang up, whilst the damsel confronted her ... +and they took hold of one another, whilst Sherkan raised his eyes +to heaven and prayed to God that the damsel might conquer the old +hag. Presently ... the old woman strove to free herself, and in the +struggle wriggled out of the girl's hands and fell on her back ... +and behold the young lady ... throwing over her a veil of fine +silk, helped her to dress herself, making excuses to her and +saying, "O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, I did not mean to throw thee so +roughly, but thou wriggledst out of my hands; so praised be God for +safety." She returned her no answer, but rose in her confusion and +walked away out of sight, leaving the young lady standing alone, by +the other girls thrown down and bound.</p> +<p>Then said Sherkan, "To every fortune there is a cause. Sleep +fell not on me, nor did the steed bear me hither but for my good +fortune; for of a surety this damsel and what is with her shall be +my prize." So he turned back and mounted, and drew his scimitar; +then he gave his horse the spur and he started off with him like an +arrow from a bow, whilst he brandished his naked blade and cried +out, "God is most great!" When the damsel saw him she sprang to her +feet, and running to the bank of the river, which was there six +cubits wide, made a spring and landed on the other side, where she +turned, and standing cried out in a loud voice, "Who art thou, +sirrah, that breakest in on our pasture as if thou wert charging an +army? Whence comest thou and whither art thou bound? Speak the +truth and it shall profit thee, and do not lie, for lying is of the +losel's fashion. Doubtless thou hast strayed this night from thy +road, that thou hast happened on this place. So tell me what thou +seekest: if thou wouldst have us set thee in the right road, we +will do so; or if thou seek help we will help thee."</p> +<p>When Sherkan heard her words he replied, "I am a stranger of the +Muslims, who am come out by myself in quest of booty, and I have +found no fairer purchase this moonlit night than these ten damsels; +so I will take them and rejoin my comrades with them." Quoth she, +"I would have thee to know that thou hast not yet come at the +booty; and as for these ten damsels, by Allah, they are no purchase +for thee! Indeed the fairest purchase thou canst look for is to win +free of this place: for thou art in a mead, where, if we gave one +cry, there would be with us anon four thousand knights. Did I not +tell thee that lying is shameful?" And he said, "The fortunate man +is he to whom God sufficeth, and who hath no need of other than +him." "By the virtue of the Messiah," replied she, "did I not fear +to have thy death at my hand, I would give a cry that would fill +the meadow on thee, with horse and foot! but I have pity on the +stranger; so, if thou seek booty, I require of thee that thou +dismount from thy horse, and swear to me by thy faith that thou +wilt not approach me with aught of arms, and we will wrestle--I and +thou. If thou throw me, lay me on thy horse and take all of us to +thy booty; and if I throw thee, thou shalt be at my commandment. +Swear this to me; for I fear thy perfidy, since experience has it +that as long as perfidy is in men's natures, to trust in every one +is weakness. But if thou wilt swear I will come over to thee." +Quoth Sherkan, "Impose on me whatever oath thou deemest binding, +and I will swear not to draw near thee until thou hast made thy +preparations, and sayest 'Come wrestle with me.' If thou throw me I +have wealth wherewith to ransom myself, and if I throw thee I shall +get fine purchase." Then said she, "Swear to me by Him who hath +lodged the soul in the body and given laws to mankind that thou +wilt not hurt me with aught of violence save in the way of +wrestling--else mayest thou die out of the pale of Islam." "By +Allah," exclaimed Sherkan, "if a Cadi should swear me, though he +were Cadi of the Cadis, he would not impose on me the like of this +oath!" Then he took the oath she required, and tied his horse to a +tree, sunken in the sea of reverie, and saying in himself, "Glory +to Him who fashioned her!" Then he girt himself, and made ready for +wrestling, and said to her, "Cross the stream to me." Quoth she, +"It is not for me to come to thee; if thou wilt, do thou cross over +to me." "I cannot do that," replied he; and she said, "O boy! I +will come to thee." So she gathered her skirts, and making a spring +landed on the other side of the river by him; whereupon he drew +near to her, wondering at her beauty and grace, and saw a form that +the hand of Omnipotence had turned with the leaves of Jinn, and +which had been fostered by divine solicitude, a form on which the +zephyrs of fair fortune had blown, and over whose creation +favorable planets had presided. Then she called out to him saying, +"O Muslim, come and wrestle before the daybreak!" and tucked up her +sleeves, showing a fore-arm like fresh curd; the whole place was +lighted up by its whiteness and Sherkan was dazzled by it. Then he +bent forward and clapped his hands, and she did the like, and they +took hold and gripped each other. He laid his hands on her slender +waist ... and fell a trembling like the Persian reed in the +hurricane. So she lifted him up, and throwing him to the ground sat +down on his breast. Then she said to him, "O Muslim, it is lawful +among you to kill Christians: what sayest thou to my killing thee?" +"O my lady," replied he, "as for killing me, it is unlawful; for +our Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) hath forbidden the +slaying of women and children and old men and monks." "Since this +was revealed unto your prophet," rejoined she, "it behooves us to +be even with him therein; so rise: I give thee thy life, for +beneficence is not lost upon men." Then she got up, and he rose and +brushed the earth from his head, and she said to him, "Be not +abashed; but indeed one who enters the land of the Greeks in quest +of booty and to succor kings against kings, how comes it that there +is no strength in him to defend himself against a woman?" "It was +not lack of strength in me," replied he, "nor was it thy strength +that overthrew me, but thy beauty; so if thou wilt, grant me +another bout, it will be of thy favor." She laughed and said, "I +grant thee this: but these damsels have been long bound, and their +arms and shoulders are weary, and it were fitting I should loose +them, since this next bout may peradventure be a long one." Then +she went up to the girls, and unbinding them said to them in the +Greek tongue, "Go and put yourselves in safety, till I have brought +to naught this Muslim." So they went away, whilst Sherkan looked at +them, and they gazed at him and the young lady. Then he and she +drew near again and set to.... But [again by admiration of her +beauty] his strength failed him, and she feeling this, lifted him +in her hands swifter than the blinding lightning and threw him to +the ground. He fell on his back, and she said to him, "Rise: I give +thee thy life a second time. I spared thee before for the sake of +thy prophet, for that he forbade the killing of women, and I do so +this second time because of thy weakness and tender age, and +strangerhood: but I charge thee, if there be in the army sent by +King Omar ben Ennuman a stronger than thou, send him hither and +tell him of me." "By Allah, O my lady," replied Sherkan (and indeed +he was greatly incensed against her), "it was not by thy strength +that thou overthrewest me, but by [thy beauty], so that nor wit nor +foresight was left in me. But now, if thou have a mind to try +another fall with me, with my wits about me, I have a right to this +one bout more by the rules of the game, for my presence of mind has +now returned to me." "Hast thou not had enough of wrestling, O +conquered one?" rejoined she. "However, come, if thou wilt: but +know that this bout must be the last." Then they took hold of each +other, and he set to in earnest and warded himself against being +thrown down: so they wrestled awhile and the damsel found in him +strength such as she had not before observed, and said to him, "O +Muslim, thou art on thy guard!" "Yes," replied he, "thou knowest +that there remaineth but this bout, and after each of us will go +his own way." She laughed and he laughed too: then she seized the +opportunity to bore in upon him unawares, and gripping him by the +thigh, threw him to the ground, so that he fell on his back. She +laughed at him and said, "Thou art surely an eater of bran: for +thou art like a Bedouin bonnet that falls off at a touch, or a +child's toy that a puff of air overturns. Out on thee, thou poor +creature! Go back to the army of the Muslims and send us other than +thyself, for thou lackest thews; and cry as among the Arabs and +Persians and Turks and Medes, 'Whoso has might in him let him come +to us!'" Then she made a spring and landed on the other side of the +stream and said to Sherkan laughing, "It goes to my heart to part +with thee! get thee to thy friends, O my lord, before the morning, +lest the knights come upon thee and take thee on the points of +their lances. Thou hast not strength enough to defend thee against +women; so how couldst thou make head against men and cavaliers!" +And she turned to go back to the monastery. Sherkan was confounded, +and called out to her, saying "O my lady! Wilt thou go away, and +leave the wretched stranger, the broken-hearted slave of love?" So +she turned to him laughing, and said, "What wouldst thou? I grant +thy prayer." "Have I set foot in thy country and tasted the +sweetness of thy favors," replied Sherkan, "and shall I return +without eating of thy victual and tasting of thy hospitality? +Indeed, I am become one of thy servitors." Quoth she, "None but the +base refuses hospitality: on my head and eyes be it! Do me the +favor to mount and ride along the stream, abreast of me, for thou +art my guest." At this Sherkan rejoiced, and hastening back to his +horse, mounted and rode along the river-bank, keeping abreast of +her, till he came to a drawbridge that hung by pulleys and chains +of steel, made fast with hooks and padlocks. Here stood the ten +damsels awaiting the lady, who spoke to one of them in the Greek +tongue and said to her, "Go to him; take his horse's rein and bring +him over into the monastery."... They went on till they reached a +vaulted gate, arched over with marble. This she opened, and entered +with Sherkan into a long vestibule, vaulted with ten arches, from +each of which hung a lamp of crystal, shining like the rays of the +sun. The damsels met her at the end of the vestibule, bearing +perfumed flambeaux and having on their heads kerchiefs embroidered +with all manner of jewels, and went on before her, till they came +to the inward of the monastery, where Sherkan saw couches set up +all around, facing one another and overhung with curtains spangled +with gold. The floor was paved with all kinds of variegated +marbles, and in the midst was a basin of water with four and twenty +spouts of gold around it from which issued water like liquid +silver; whilst at the upper end stood a throne covered with silks +of royal purple. Then said the damsel, "O my lord, mount this +throne." So he seated himself on it, and she withdrew: and when she +had been absent awhile, he asked the servants of her, and they +said, "She hath gone to her sleeping-chamber; but we will serve +thee as thou shalt order." So they set before him rare meats, and +he ate till he was satisfied, when they brought him a basin of gold +and an ewer of silver and he washed his hands. Then his mind +reverted to his troops, and he was troubled, knowing not what had +befallen them in his absence and thinking how he had forgotten his +father's injunctions, so that he abode, oppressed with anxiety and +repenting of what he had done, till the dawn broke and the day +appeared, when he lamented and sighed and became drowned in the sea +of melancholy, repeating the following verses:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"I lack not of prudence, and yet in this case, I've been +fooled;</p> +<p class="i7">so what shift shall avail unto me?</p> +<p>If any could ease me of love and its stress, Of my might and</p> +<p class="i7">my virtue I'd set myself free.</p> +<p>But alas! my heart's lost in maze of desire, And no helper +save</p> +<p class="i7">God in my strait can I see.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Hardly had he finished when up came more than twenty damsels +like moons, encompassing the young lady, who appeared among them as +the full moon among stars. She was clad in royal brocade, and girt +with a woven girdle set with various kinds of jewels that straitly +clasped her waist.... On her head she wore a network of pearls, +gemmed with various kinds of jewels, and she moved with a +coquettish, swimming gait, swaying wonder-gracefully, whilst the +damsels held up her skirts.... She fixed her eyes on him, and +considered him awhile, till she was assured of him, when she came +up to him and said, "Indeed the place is honored and illumined with +thy presence, O Sherkan! How didst thou pass the night, O hero, +after we went away and left thee? Verily, lying is a defect and a +reproach in kings; especially in great kings: and thou art Sherkan, +son of King Omar ben Ennuman; so henceforth tell me naught but +truth, and strive not to keep the secret of thy condition, for +falsehood engenders hatred and enmity. The arrow of destiny hath +fallen upon thee, and it behooves thee to show resignation and +submission." When Sherkan heard what she said, he saw nothing for +it but to tell her the truth: so he said, "I am indeed Sherkan, son +of Omar ben Ennuman; whom fortune hath afflicted and cast into this +place: so now do whatsoever thou wilt."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name= +"FROM_SINDBAD_THE_SEAMAN_AND_SINDBAD_THE_LANDSMAN"></a>FROM +'SINDBAD THE SEAMAN AND SINDBAD THE LANDSMAN'</h2> +<center>Portions of Nights 536 to 542, presenting the Introduction +and the first<br> +of the seven 'Voyages': Translation of Captain Sir Richard +Burton.</center> +<br> +<p>There lived in the city of Bagdad, during the reign of the +Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, a man named Sindbad the +Hammal [Porter], one in poor case, who bore burdens on his head for +hire. It happened to him one day of great heat that whilst he was +carrying a heavy load, he became exceeding weary and sweated +profusely; the heat and the weight alike oppressing him. Presently, +as he was passing the gate of a merchant's house, before which the +ground was swept and watered, and where the air was temperate, he +sighted a broad bench beside the door; so he set his load thereon, +to take rest and smell the air.--</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her +permitted say.</p> +<p>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVENTH NIGHT,</p> +<p>She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the +Hammal set his load upon the bench to take rest and smell the air, +there came out upon him from the court-door a pleasant breeze and a +delicious fragrance. He sat down on the edge of the bench, and at +once heard from within the melodious sound of lutes and other +stringed instruments, and mirth-exciting voices singing and +reciting, together with the song of birds warbling and glorifying +Almighty Allah in various tunes and tongues; turtles, mockingbirds, +merles, nightingales, cushats, and stone-curlews: whereat he +marveled in himself and was moved to mighty joy and solace. Then he +went up to the gate and saw within a great flower-garden wherein +were pages and black slaves, and such a train of servants and +attendants and so forth as is found only with Kings and Sultans; +and his nostrils were greeted with the savory odors of all manner +meats rich and delicate, and delicious and generous wines. So he +raised his eyes heavenwards and said, "Glory to Thee, O Lord, O +Creator and Provider, who providest whomso Thou wilt without count +or stint! O mine Holy One, I cry Thee pardon for all sins and turn +to Thee repenting of all offenses! O Lord, there is no gainsaying +Thee in Thine ordinance and Thy dominion, neither wilt Thou be +questioned of that Thou dost, for Thou indeed over all things art +Almighty! Extolled be Thy perfection: whom Thou wilt Thou makest +poor and whom Thou wilt Thou makest rich! Whom Thou wilt Thou +exaltest and whom Thou wilt Thou abasest, and there is no god but +Thou! How mighty is Thy majesty and how enduring Thy dominion and +how excellent Thy government! Verily, Thou favorest whom Thou wilt +of Thy servants, whereby the owner of this place abideth in all +joyance of life and delighteth himself with pleasant scents and +delicious meats and exquisite wines of all kinds. For indeed Thou +appointest unto Thy creatures that which Thou wilt and that which +Thou hast foreordained unto them; wherefore are some weary and +others are at rest, and some enjoy fair fortune and affluence +whilst others suffer the extreme of travail and misery, even as I +do." And he fell to reciting:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>How many by my labors, that evermore endure, All goods of</p> +<p class="i2">life enjoy and in cooly shade recline?</p> +<p>Each morn that dawns I wake in travail and in woe, And</p> +<p class="i2">strange is my condition and my burden gars me +pine:</p> +<p>Many others are in luck and from miseries are free, And +Fortune</p> +<p class="i2">never loads them with loads the like o' mine:</p> +<p>They live their happy days in all solace and delight; Eat, +drink,</p> +<p class="i2">and dwell in honor 'mid the noble and the digne:</p> +<p>All living things were made of a little drop of sperm, Thine</p> +<p class="i2">origin is mine and my provenance is thine;</p> +<p>Yet the difference and distance 'twixt the twain of us are far +As</p> +<p class="i2">the difference of savor 'twixt vinegar and wine:</p> +<p>But at Thee, O God All-wise! I venture not to rail Whose +ordinance</p> +<p class="i2">is just and whose justice cannot fail.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>When Sindbad the Porter had made an end of reciting his verses, +he bore up his burden and was about to fare on, when there came +forth to him from the gate a little foot-page, fair of face and +shapely of shape and dainty of dress, who caught him by the hand, +saying, "Come in and speak with my lord, for he calleth for thee." +The Porter would have excused himself to the page, but the lad +would take no refusal; so he left his load with the doorkeeper in +the vestibule and followed the boy into the house, which he found +to be a goodly mansion, radiant and full of majesty, till he +brought him to a grand sitting-room wherein he saw a company of +nobles and great lords, seated at tables garnished with all manner +of flowers and sweet-scented herbs, besides great plenty of dainty +viands and fruits dried and fresh and confections and wines of the +choicest vintages. There also were instruments of music and mirth, +and lovely slave-girls playing and singing. All the company was +ranged according to rank, and in the highest place sat a man of +worshipful and noble aspect, whose beard-sides hoariness had +stricken; and he was stately of stature and fair of favor, +agreeable of aspect and full of gravity and dignity and majesty. So +Sindbad the Porter was confounded at that which he beheld, and said +in himself, "By Allah, this must be either a piece of Paradise or +some king's palace!" Then he saluted the company with much respect, +praying for their prosperity; and kissing ground before them, stood +with his head bowed down in humble attitude.--</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her +permitted say.</p> +<p>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-EIGHTH NIGHT,</p> +<p>She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad +the Porter, after kissing ground between their hands, stood with +his head bowed down in humble attitude. The master of the house +bade him draw near and be seated and bespoke him kindly, bidding +him welcome. Then he set before him various kinds of viands, rich +and delicious, and the Porter, after saying his Bismillah, fell to +and ate his fill, after which he exclaimed, "Praised be Allah +whatso be our case!" and washing his hands, returned thanks to the +company for his entertainment. Quoth the host, "Thou art welcome +and thy day is a-blessed. But what are thy name and calling?" Quoth +the other, "O my lord, my name is Sindbad the Hammal, and I carry +folk's goods on my head for hire." The house-master smiled and +rejoined, "Know, O Porter, that thy name is even as mine, for I am +Sindbad the Seaman; and now, O Porter, I would have thee let me +hear the couplets thou recitedst at the gate anon." The Porter was +abashed and replied, "Allah upon thee! Excuse me, for toil and +travail and lack of luck when the hand is empty teach a man ill +manners and boorish ways." Said the host, "Be not ashamed; thou art +become my brother: but repeat to me the verses, for they pleased me +whenas I heard thee recite them at the gate." Hereupon the Porter +repeated the couplets, and they delighted the merchant, who said to +him:--</p> +<p>Know, O Hammal, that my story is a wonderful one, and thou shalt +hear all that befell me and all I underwent ere I rose to this +state of prosperity and became the lord of this place wherein thou +seest me; for I came not to this high estate save after travail +sore and perils galore, and how much toil and trouble have I not +suffered in days of yore! I have made seven voyages, by each of +which hangeth a marvelous tale, such as confoundeth the reason, and +all this came to pass by doom of fortune and fate; for from what +destiny doth write there is neither refuge nor flight.</p> +<p>Know then, good my lords (continued he), that I am about to +relate the</p> +<h2><a name="FIRST_VOYAGE_OF_SINDBAD_HIGHT_THE_SEAMAN."></a>FIRST +VOYAGE OF SINDBAD HIGHT THE SEAMAN.</h2> +<p>My father was a merchant, one of the notables of my native +place, a moneyed man and ample of means, who died whilst I was yet +a child, leaving me much wealth in money and lands, and farmhouses. +When I grew up I laid hands on the whole and ate of the best and +drank freely and wore rich clothes and lived lavishly, companioning +and consorting with youths of my own age, and considering that this +course of life would continue for ever and ken no change. Thus did +I for a long time, but at last I awoke from my heedlessness, and +returning to my senses, I found my wealth had become unwealth and +my condition ill-conditioned, and all I once hent had left my hand. +And recovering my reason I was stricken with dismay and confusion, +and bethought me of a saying of our lord Solomon, son of David, +(upon whom be Peace!) which I had heard aforetime from my father, +"Three things are better than other three: the day of death is +better than the day of birth, a live dog is better than a dead +lion, and the grave is better than want." Then I got together my +remains of estates and property and sold all, even my clothes, for +three thousand dirhams, with which I resolved to travel to foreign +parts, remembering the saying of the poet:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By means of toil man shall scale the height; Who to fame</p> +<p class="i5">aspires mustn't sleep o' night:</p> +<p>Who seeketh pearl in the deep must dive, Winning weal and</p> +<p class="i5">wealth by his main and might:</p> +<p>And who seeketh Fame without toil and strife Th' impossible</p> +<p class="i5">seeketh and wasteth life.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>So taking heart I bought me goods, merchandise, and all needed +for a voyage, and, impatient to be at sea, I embarked, with a +company of merchants, on board a ship bound for Bassorah. There we +again embarked and sailed many days and nights, and we passed from +isle to isle and sea to sea and shore to shore, buying and selling +and bartering everywhere the ship touched, and continued our course +till we came to an island as it were a garth of the garden of +Paradise. Here the captain cast anchor, and making fast to the +shore, put out the landing planks. So all on board landed and made +furnaces, and lighting fires therein, busied themselves in various +ways, some cooking and some washing, whilst other some walked about +the island for solace, and the crew fell to eating and drinking and +playing and sporting. I was one of the walkers; but as we were thus +engaged, behold the master, who was standing on the gunwale, cried +out to us at the top of his voice, saying, "Ho there! passengers, +run for your lives and hasten back to the ship and leave your gear +and save yourselves from destruction, Allah preserve you! For this +island whereon ye stand is no true island, but a great fish +stationary a-middlemost of the sea, whereon the sand hath settled +and trees have sprung up of old time, so that it is become like +unto an island; but when ye lighted fires on it, it felt the heat +and moved; and in a moment it will sink with you into the sea and +ye will all be drowned. So leave your gear and seek your safety ere +ye die."--</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her +permitted say.</p> +<br> +<h3>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-NINTH NIGHT,</h3> +<p>She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the +ship-master cried to the passengers, "Leave your gear and seek +safety ere ye die," all who heard him left gear and goods, clothes +washed and unwashed, fire-pots and brass cooking-pots, and fled +back to the ship for their lives, and some reached it while others +(among whom was I) did not, for suddenly the island shook and sank +into the abysses of the deep, with all that were thereon, and the +dashing sea surged over it with clashing waves. I sank with the +others down, down into the deep, but Almighty Allah preserved me +from drowning and threw in my way a great wooden tub of those that +had served the ship's company for tubbing. I gripped it for the +sweetness of life, and bestriding it like one riding, paddled with +my feet like oars, whilst the waves tossed me as in sport right and +left. Meanwhile, the captain made sail and departed with those who +had reached the ship, regardless of the drowning and the drowned; +and I ceased not following the vessel with my eyes, till she was +hid from sight and I made sure of death. Darkness closed in upon me +while in this plight, and the winds and waves bore me on all that +night and the next day, till the tub brought to with me under the +lee of a lofty island, with trees overhanging the tide. I caught +hold of a branch and by its aid clambered up on to the land, after +coming nigh upon death; but when I reached the shore, I found my +legs cramped and numbed, and my feet bore traces of the nibbling of +fish upon their soles; withal I had felt nothing for excess of +anguish and fatigue. I threw myself down on the island-ground, like +a dead man, and drowned in desolation swooned away, nor did I +return to my senses till next morning, when the sun rose and +revived me. But I found my feet swollen, so made shift to move by +shuffling on my breech and crawling on my knees, for in that island +were found store of fruit and springs of sweet water. I ate of the +fruits, which strengthened me; and thus I abode days and nights, +till my life seemed to return and my spirits began to revive and I +was better able to move about. So after due consideration I fell to +exploring the island and diverting myself with gazing upon all +things that Allah Almighty had created there; and rested under the +trees, from one of which I cut me a staff to lean upon. One day as +I walked along the marge, I caught sight of some object in the +distance, and thought it a wild beast or one of the monster +creatures of the sea; but as I drew near it, looking hard the +while, I saw that it was a noble mare, tethered on the beach. +Presently I went up to her, but she cried out against me with a +great cry, so that I trembled for fear and turned to go away, when +there came forth a man from under the earth and followed me, crying +out and saying, "Who and whence art thou, and what caused thee to +come hither?" "O my lord," answered I, "I am in very sooth a waif, +a stranger, and was left to drown with sundry others by the ship we +voyaged in; but Allah graciously sent me a wooden tub, so I saved +myself thereon, and it floated with me till the waves cast me up on +this island." When he heard this he took my hand, and saying "Come +with me," carried me into a great Sardáb, or underground +chamber, which was spacious as a saloon. He made me sit down at its +upper end; then he brought me somewhat of food, and, being +anhungered, I ate till I was satisfied and refreshed. And when he +had put me at mine ease he questioned me of myself, and I told him +all that had befallen me from first to last. And as he wondered at +my adventure, I said, "By Allah, O my lord, excuse me; I have told +thee the truth of my case and the accident which betided me. And +now I desire that thou tell me who thou art, and why thou abidest +here under the earth, and why thou hast tethered yonder mare on the +brink of the sea." Answered he, "Know that I am one of the several +who are stationed in different parts of this island, and we are of +the grooms of King Mihrján, and under our hand are all his +horses.... And Inshallah! I will bear thee to King +Mihrján--"</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her +permitted say.</p> +<br> +<h3>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTIETH NIGHT,</h3> +<p>She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the +Syce said to Sindbad the Seaman, "I will bear thee to King +Mihrján and show thee our country. And know that hadst thou +not happened on us, thou hadst perished miserably and none had +known of thee; but I will be the means of the saving of thy life +and of thy return to thine own land." I called down blessings on +him and thanked him for his kindness and courtesy.... After this, +we sat awhile, till the rest of the grooms came up, each leading a +mare, and seeing me with their fellow Syce questioned me of my +case, and I repeated my story to them. Thereupon they drew near me, +and spreading the table, ate and invited me to eat; so I ate with +them, after which they took horse, and mounting me on one of the +mares, set out with me and fared on without ceasing, till we came +to the capital city of King Mihrján, and going in to him +acquainted him with my story. Then he sent for me, and when they +set me before him and salams had been exchanged, he gave me a +cordial welcome and wishing me long life bade me tell him my tale. +So I related to him all that I had seen and all that had befallen +me from first to last, whereat he marveled and said to me, "By +Allah, O my son, thou hast indeed been miraculously preserved! Were +not the term of thy life a long one, thou hadst not escaped from +these straits; but praised be Allah for safety!" Then he spoke +cheerily to me and entreated me with kindness and consideration; +moreover, he made me his agent for the port and registrar of all +ships that entered the harbor. I attended him regularly, to receive +his commandments, and he favored me and did me all manner of +kindness and invested me with costly and splendid robes. Indeed, I +was high in credit with him, as an intercessor for the folk and an +intermediary between them and him, when they wanted aught of him. I +abode thus a great while, and as often as I passed through the city +to the port, I questioned the merchants and travelers and sailors +of the city of Baghdad; so haply I might hear of an occasion to +return to my native land, but could find none who knew it or knew +any who resorted thither. At this I was chagrined, for I was weary +of long strangerhood; and my disappointment endured for a time till +one day, going in to King Mihrján, I found with him a +company of Indians. I saluted them and they returned my salam; and +politely welcomed me and asked me of my country--</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her +permitted say.</p> +<br> +<h3>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIRST NIGHT,</h3> +<p>She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that +Sindbad the Seaman said:--When they asked me of my country I +questioned them of theirs, and they told me that they were of +various castes, some being called Shakiriyah, who are the noblest +of their castes and neither oppress nor offer violence to any, and +other Brahmans, a folk who abstain from wine, but live in delight +and solace and merriment, and own camels and horses and cattle. +Moreover, they told me that the people of India are divided into +two-and-seventy castes, and I marveled at this with exceeding +marvel. Amongst other things that I saw in King Mihrján's +dominions was an island called Kásil, wherein all night is +heard the beating of drums and tabrets; but we were told by the +neighboring islanders and by travelers that the inhabitants are +people of diligence and judgment. In this sea I saw also a fish two +hundred cubits long, and the fishermen fear it; so they strike +together pieces of wood and put it to flight. I also saw another +fish, with a head like that of an owl, besides many other wonders +and rarities, which it would be tedious to recount. I occupied +myself thus in visiting the islands, till one day, as I stood in +the port, with a staff in my hand, according to my custom, behold, +a great ship, wherein were many merchants, came sailing for the +harbor. When it reached the small inner port where ships anchor +under the city, the master furled his sails and making fast to the +shore, put out the landing-planks, whereupon the crew fell to +breaking bulk and landing cargo whilst I stood by, taking written +note of them. They were long in bringing the goods ashore, so I +asked the master, "Is there aught left in thy ship?" and he +answered, "O my lord, there are divers bales of merchandise in the +hold, whose owner was drowned from amongst us at one of the islands +on our course; so his goods remained in our charge by way of trust, +and we propose to sell them and note their price, that we may +convey it to his people in the city of Baghdad, the Home of Peace." +"What was the merchant's name?" quoth I, and quoth he, "Sindbad the +Seaman"; whereupon I straitly considered him and knowing him, cried +out to him with a great cry, saying, "O captain, I am that Sindbad +the Seaman who traveled with other merchants; and when the fish +heaved and thou calledst to us, some saved themselves and others +sank, I being one of them. But Allah Almighty threw in my way a +great tub of wood, of those the crew had used to wash withal, and +the winds and waves carried me to this island, where by Allah's +grace I fell in with King Mihrján's grooms and they brought +me hither to the King their master. When I told him my story he +entreated me with favor and made me his harbor-master, and I have +prospered in his service and found acceptance with him. These +bales, therefore, are mine, the goods which God hath given +me--"</p> +<p>And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her +permitted say.</p> +<br> +<h3>NOW WHEN IT WAS THE FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SECOND NIGHT,</h3> +<p>She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when +Sindbad the Seaman said to the captain, "These bales are mine, the +goods which Allah hath given me," the other exclaimed, "There is no +Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the +Great! Verily, there is neither conscience nor good faith left +among men!" Said I, "O Rais, what mean these words, seeing that I +have told thee my case?" And he answered, "Because thou heardest me +say that I had with me goods whose owner was drowned, thou thinkest +to take them without right; but this is forbidden by law to thee, +for we saw him drown before our eyes, together with many other +passengers, nor was one of them saved. So how canst thou pretend +that thou art the owner of the goods?" "O captain," said I, "listen +to my story and give heed to my words, and my truth will be +manifest to thee; for lying and leasing are the letter-marks of the +hypocrites." Then I recounted to him all that had befallen me since +I sailed from Baghdad with him to the time when we came to the +fish-island where we were nearly drowned; and I reminded him of +certain matters which had passed between us; whereupon both he and +the merchants were certified of the truth of my story and +recognized me and gave me joy of my deliverance, saying, "By Allah, +we thought not that thou hadst escaped drowning! But the Lord hath +granted thee new life." Then they delivered my bales to me, and I +found my name written thereon, nor was aught thereof lacking. So I +opened them, and making up a present for King Mihrján of the +finest and costliest of the contents, caused the sailors to carry +it up to the palace, where I went in to the King and laid my +present at his feet acquainting him with what had happened, +especially concerning the ship and my goods; whereat he wondered +with exceeding wonder and the truth of all that I had told him was +made manifest to him. His affection for me redoubled after that, +and he showed me exceeding honor and bestowed on me a great present +in return for mine. Then I sold my bales and what other matters I +owned, making a great profit on them, and bought me other goods and +gear of the growth and fashion of the island-city. When the +merchants were about to start on their homeward voyage, I embarked +on board the ship all that I possessed, and going in to the King, +thanked him for all his favors and friendship, and craved his leave +to return to my own land and friends. He farewelled me and bestowed +upon me great store of the country-stuffs and produce; and I took +leave of him and embarked. Then we set sail and fared on nights and +days, by the permission of Allah Almighty; and Fortune served us +and Fate favored us, so that we arrived in safety at Bassorah-city +where I landed rejoiced at my safe return to my natal soil. After a +short stay, I set out for Baghdad, the House of Peace, with store +of goods and commodities of great price. Reaching the city in due +time, I went straight to my own quarter and entered my house, where +all my friends and kinsfolk came to greet me. Then I bought me +eunuchs and concubines, servants and negro slaves, till I had a +large establishment, and I bought me houses, and lands and gardens, +till I was richer and in better case than before, and returned to +enjoy the society of my friends and familiars more assiduously than +ever, forgetting all I had suffered of fatigue and hardship and +strangerhood and every peril of travel; and I applied myself to all +manner joys and solaces and delights, eating the daintiest viands +and drinking the deliciousest wines; and my wealth allowed this +state of things to endure. This, then, is the story of my first +voyage, and to-morrow, Inshallah! I will tell you the tale of the +second of my seven voyages. Saith he who telleth the tale: Then +Sindbad the Seaman made Sindbad the Landsman sup with him and bade +give him an hundred gold pieces, saying, "Thou hast cheered us with +thy company this day." The Porter thanked him, and taking the gift, +went his way, pondering that which he had heard and marveling +mightily at what things betide mankind.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name= +"CONCLUSION_OF_THE_THOUSAND_NIGHTS_AND_A_NIGHT"></a>CONCLUSION OF +THE 'THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT'</h2> +<center>Translation of Captain Sir Richard F. Burton</center> +<br> +<p>Now during this time Shahrazad had borne the King three boy +children; so, when she had made an end of the story of Ma'aruf, she +rose to her feet and kissing ground before him, said, "O King of +the time and unique one of the age and the tide, I am thine +handmaid, and these thousand nights and a night have I entertained +thee with stories of folk gone before and admonitory instances of +the men of yore. May I then make bold to crave a boon of thy +highness?" He replied, "Ask, O Shahrazad, and it shall be granted +to thee." Whereupon she cried out to the nurses and the eunuchs, +saying, "Bring me my children." So they brought them to her in +haste, and they were three boy children, one walking, one crawling, +and one sucking. She took them, and setting them before the King, +again kissed ground and said, "O King of the Age, these are thy +children and I crave that thou release me from the doom of death, +as a dole to these infants; for, an thou kill me, they will become +motherless and will find none among women to rear them as they +should be reared." When the King heard this, he wept and straining +the boys to his bosom, said, "By Allah, O Shahrazad, I pardoned +thee before the coming of these children, for that I found thee +chaste, pure, ingenuous, and pious! Allah bless thee and thy father +and thy mother and thy root and thy branch! I take the Almighty to +witness against me that I exempt thee from aught that can harm +thee."</p> +<p>So she kissed his hands and feet and rejoiced with exceeding +joy, saying, "The Lord make thy life long and increase thee in +dignity and majesty!" presently adding, "Thou marveledst at which +befell thee on the part of women; yet there betided the Kings of +the Chosroës before thee greater mishaps and more grievous +than that which hath befallen thee, and indeed I have set forth +unto thee that which happened to Caliphs and Kings and others with +their women, but the relation is longsome, and hearkening groweth +tedious, and in this is all-sufficient warning for the man of wits +and admonishment for the wise." Then she ceased to speak, and when +King Shahryar heard her speech and profited by that which she had +said, he summoned up his reasoning powers and cleansed his heart +and caused his understanding to revert, and turned to Allah +Almighty and said to himself, "Since there befell the Kings of the +Chosroës more than that which hath befallen me, never whilst I +live shall I cease to blame myself for the past. As for this +Shahrazad, her like is not found in the lands; so praise be to Him +Who appointed her a means for delivering His creatures from +oppression and slaughter!" Then he arose from his séance and +kissed her head, whereat she rejoiced, she and her sister Dunyazad, +with exceeding joy.</p> +<p>When the morning morrowed the King went forth, and sitting down +on the throne of the Kingship, summoned the Lords of his land; +whereupon the Chamberlains and Nabobs and Captains of the host went +in to him and kissed ground before him. He distinguished the Wazir, +Shahrazad's sire, with special favor and bestowed on him a costly +and splendid robe of honor, and entreated him with the utmost +kindness, and said to him, "Allah protect thee for that thou gavest +me to wife thy noble daughter, who hath been the means of my +repentance from slaying the daughters of folk. Indeed, I have found +her pure and pious, chaste and ingenuous, and Allah hath vouchsafed +me by her three boy children; wherefore praised be He for His +passing favor." Then he bestowed robes of honor upon his Wazirs and +Emirs and Chief Officers and he set forth to them briefly that +which had betided him with Shahrazad, and how he had turned from +his former ways and repented him of what he had done, and proposed +to take the Wazir's daughter Shahrazad to wife, and let draw up the +marriage-contract with her. When those who were present heard this, +they kissed ground before him and blessed him and his betrothed +Shahrazad, and the Wazir thanked her.</p> +<p>Then Shahryar made an end of his sitting in all weal, whereupon +the folk dispersed to their dwelling-places, and the news was +bruited abroad that the King proposed to marry the Wazir's +daughter, Shahrazad. Then he proceeded to make ready the wedding +gear, and presently he sent after his brother, King Shah Zaman, who +came, and King Shahryar went forth to meet him with the troops. +Furthermore, they decorated the city after the goodliest fashion +and diffused scents from censers and burnt aloes-wood and other +perfumes in all the markets and thoroughfares and rubbed themselves +with saffron, what while the drums beat and the flutes and pipes +sounded and mimes and mountebanks played and plied their arts, and +the King lavished on them gifts and largesse, and in very deed it +was a notable day. When they came to the palace, King Shahryar +commanded to spread the table with beasts roasted whole, and +sweetmeats, and all manner of viands, and bade the crier cry to the +folk that they should come up to the Diwan and eat and drink, and +that this should be a means of reconciliation between him and them. +So high and low, great and small, came up unto him, and they abode +on that wise, eating and drinking, seven days with their +nights.</p> +<p>Then the King shut himself up with his brother, and related to +him that which had betided him with the Wazir's daughter Shahrazad +during the past three years, and told him what he had heard from +her of proverbs and parables, chronicles and pleasantries, quips +and jests, stories and anecdotes, dialogues and histories, and +elegies and other verses; whereat King Shah Zaman marveled with the +utmost marvel and said, "Fain would I take her younger sister to +wife, so we may be two brothers-german to two sisters-german, and +they on like wise be sisters to us; for that the calamity which +befell me was the cause of our discovering that which befell thee, +and all this time of three years past I have taken no delight in +woman; but now I desire to marry thy wife's sister Dunyazad."</p> +<p>When King Shahryar heard his brother's words, he rejoiced with +joy exceeding, and arising forthright, went in to his wife +Shahrazad and acquainted her with that which his brother purposed, +namely, that he sought her sister Dunyazad in wedlock; whereupon +she answered, "O King of the Age, we seek of him one condition, to +wit, that he take up his abode with us, for that I cannot brook to +be parted from my sister an hour, because we were brought up +together, and may not endure separation each from another. If he +accept this pact, she is his handmaid." King Shahryar returned to +his brother and acquainted him with that which Shahrazad had said; +and he replied, "Indeed, this is what was in my mind, for that I +desire nevermore to be parted from thee one hour. As for the +kingdom, Allah the Most High shall send to it whomso He chooseth, +for that I have no longer a desire for the kingship."</p> +<p>When King Shahryar heard his brother's words, he rejoiced +exceedingly and said, "Verily, this is what I wished, O my brother. +So Alhamdolillah--Praised be Allah!--who hath brought about union +between us." Then he sent after the Kazis and Olema, Captains and +Notables, and they married the two brothers to the two sisters. The +contracts were written out, and the two Kings bestowed robes of +honor of silk and satin on those who were present, whilst the city +was decorated and the rejoicings were renewed. The King commanded +each Emir and Wazir and Chamberlain and Nabob to decorate his +palace, and the folk of the city were gladdened by the presage of +happiness and contentment. King Shahryar also bade slaughter sheep, +and set up kitchens and made bride-feasts and fed all comers, high +and low; and he gave alms to the poor and needy and extended his +bounty to great and small.</p> +<p>Then the eunuchs went forth that they might perfume the Hammam +for the brides; so they scented it with rosewater and willow-flower +water and pods of musk, and fumigated it with Kákilí +eaglewood and ambergris. Then Shahrazad entered, she and her sister +Dunyazad, and they cleansed their heads and clipped their hair. +When they came forth of the Hammam-bath, they donned raiment and +ornaments, such as men were wont prepare for the Kings of the +Chosroës; and among Shahrazad's apparel was a dress purfled +with red gold and wrought with counterfeit presentments of birds +and beasts. And the two sisters encircled their necks with +necklaces of jewels of price, in the like whereof Iskander rejoiced +not, for therein were great jewels such as amazed the wit and +dazzled the eye; and the imagination was bewildered at their +charms, for indeed each of them was brighter than the sun and the +moon. Before them they lighted brilliant flambeaux of wax in +candelabra of gold, but their faces outshone the flambeaux, for +that they had eyes sharper than unsheathed swords and the lashes of +their eyelids bewitched all hearts. Their cheeks were rosy red, and +their necks and shapes gracefully swayed, and their eyes wantoned +like the gazelle's; and the slave-girls came to meet them with +instruments of music.</p> +<p>Then the two Kings entered the Hammam-bath, and when they came +forth they sat down on a couch set with pearls and gems, whereupon +the two sisters came up to them and stood between their hands, as +they were moons, bending and leaning from side to side in their +beauty and loveliness. Presently they brought forward Shahrazad and +displayed her, for the first dress, in a red suit; whereupon King +Shahryar rose to look upon her, and the wits of all present, men +and women, were bewitched for that she was even as saith of her one +of her describers:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A sun on wand in knoll of sand she showed,</p> +<p class="i5">Clad in her cramoisy-hued chemisette:</p> +<p>Of her lips' honey-dew she gave me drink</p> +<p class="i5">And with her rosy cheeks quencht fire she set.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Then they attired Dunyazad in a dress of blue brocade, and she +became as she were the full moon when it shineth forth. So they +displayed her in this, for the first dress, before King Shah Zaman, +who rejoiced in her and well-nigh swooned away for love-longing and +amorous desire; yea, he was distraught with passion for her, whenas +he saw her, because she was as saith of her one of her describers +in these couplets:--</p> +<blockquote>She comes appareled in an azure vest<br> + Ultramarine as skies are deckt and +dight:<br> +I view'd th' unparall'd sight, which showed my eyes<br> + A Summer-moon upon a +Winter-night.</blockquote> +<p>Then they returned to Shahrazad and displayed her in the second +dress, a suit of surpassing goodliness, and veiled her face with +her hair like a chin-veil. Moreover, they let down her side-locks, +and she was even as saith of her one of her describers in these +couplets:--</p> +<blockquote>O hail to him whose locks his cheeks o'ershade,<br> + Who slew my life by cruel hard +despight:<br> +Said I, "Hast veiled the Morn in Night?" He said,<br> + "Nay, I but veil the Moon in hue of +Night."</blockquote> +<p>Then they displayed Dunyazad in a second and a third and a +fourth dress, and she paced forward like the rising sun, and swayed +to and fro in the insolence of her beauty; and she was even as +saith the poet of her in these couplets:--</p> +<blockquote>The sun of beauty she to all appears<br> + And, lovely coy, she mocks all +loveliness:<br> +And when he fronts her favor and her smile<br> + A-morn, the sun of day in clouds must +dress.</blockquote> +<p>Then they displayed Shahrazad in the third dress and the fourth +and the fifth, and she became as she were a Bán-branch snell +of a thirsting gazelle, lovely of face and perfect in attributes of +grace, even as saith of her one in these couplets:--</p> +<blockquote>She comes like fullest moon on happy night,<br> + Taper of waist with shape of magic +might;<br> +She hath an eye whose glances quell mankind,<br> + And ruby on her cheeks reflects his +light;<br> +Enveils her hips the blackness of her hair;<br> + Beware of curls that bite with +viper-bite!<br> +Her sides are silken-soft, what while the heart<br> + Mere rock behind that surface 'scapes +our sight;<br> +From the fringed curtains of her cyne she shoots<br> + Shafts that at furthest range on mark +alight.</blockquote> +<p>Then they returned to Dunyazad and displayed her in the fifth +dress and in the sixth, which was green, when she surpassed with +her loveliness the fair of the four quarters of the world, and +outvied, with the brightness of her countenance, the full moon at +rising tide; for she was even as saith of her the poet in these +couplets:--</p> +<blockquote>A damsel 'twas the tirer's art had decked with snare +and sleight,<br> + And robed with rays as though the sun +from her had borrowed light;<br> +She came before us wondrous clad in chemisette of green,<br> + As veilèd by his leafy screen +Pomegranate hides from sight;<br> +And when he said, "How callest thou the fashion of thy dress?"<br> + She answered us in pleasant way, with +double meaning dight,<br> +"We call this garment <i>crève-coeur;</i> and rightly is it +hight,<br> + For many a heart wi' this we brake +and harried many a sprite."</blockquote> +<p>Then they displayed Shahrazad in the sixth and seventh dresses +and clad her in youth's clothing, whereupon she came forward +swaying from side to side, and coquettishly moving, and indeed she +ravished wits and hearts and ensorcelled all eyes with her glances. +She shook her sides and swayed her haunches, then put her hair on +sword-hilt and went up to King Shahryar, who embraced her as +hospitable host embraceth guest, and threatened her in her ear with +the taking of the sword; and she was even as saith of her the poet +in these words:--</p> +<blockquote>Were not the Murk of gender male,<br> + Than feminines surpassing fair,<br> +Tire-women they had grudged the bride,<br> + Who made her beard and whiskers +wear!</blockquote> +<p>Thus also they did with her sister Dunyazad; and when they had +made an end of the display, the King bestowed robes of honor on all +who were present, and sent the brides to their own apartments. Then +Shahrazad went in to King Shahryar and Dunyazad to King Shah Zaman, +and each of them solaced himself with the company of his beloved +consort, and the hearts of the folk were comforted. When morning +morrowed, the Wazir came in to the two Kings and kissed ground +before them; wherefore they thanked him and were large of bounty to +him. Presently they went forth and sat down upon couches of +kingship, whilst all the Wazirs and Emirs and Grandees and Lords of +the land presented themselves and kissed ground. King Shahryar +ordered them dresses of honor and largesse, and they prayed for the +permanence and prosperity of the King and his brother. Then the two +Sovrans appointed their sire-in-law the Wazir to be Viceroy in +Samarcand, and assigned him five of the Chief Emirs to accompany +him, charging them attend him and do him service. The Minister +kissed ground and prayed that they might be vouchsafed length of +life: then he went in to his daughters, whilst the Eunuchs and +Ushers walked before him, and saluted them and farewelled them. +They kissed his hands and gave him joy of the kingship and bestowed +on him immense treasures; after which he took leave of them, and +setting out, fared days and nights, till he came near Samarcand, +where the townspeople met him at a distance of three marches and +rejoiced in him with exceeding joy. So he entered the city, and +they decorated the houses and it was a notable day. He sat down on +the throne of his kingship, and the Wazirs did him homage and the +Grandees and Emirs of Samarcand, and all prayed that he might be +vouchsafed justice and victory and length of continuance. So he +bestowed on them robes of honor and entreated them with +distinction, and they made him Sultan over them. As soon as his +father-in-law had departed for Samarcand, King Shahryar summoned +the Grandees of his realm and made them a stupendous banquet of all +manner of delicious meats and exquisite sweetmeats. He also +bestowed on them robes of honor and guerdoned them, and divided the +kingdoms between himself and his brother in their presence, whereat +the folk rejoiced. Then the two Kings abode, each ruling a day in +turn, and they were ever in harmony each with other, while on +similar wise their wives continued in the love of Allah Almighty +and in thanksgiving to Him; and the peoples and the provinces were +at peace, and the preachers prayed for them from the pulpits, and +their report was bruited abroad and the travelers bore tidings of +them to all lands. In due time King Shahryar summoned chronicles +and copyists, and bade them write all that had betided him with his +wife, first and last; so they wrote this and named it 'The Stories +of the Thousand Nights and A Night.' The book came to thirty +volumes, and these the King laid up in his treasure. And the two +brothers abode with their wives in all pleasaunce and solace of +life and its delights, for that indeed Allah the Most High had +changed their annoy into joy; and on this wise they continued till +there took them the Destroyer of delights and the Severer of +societies, the Desolator of dwelling-places, and Garnerer of +grave-yards, and they were translated to the ruth of Almighty +Allah; their houses fell waste and their palaces lay in ruins, and +the Kings inherited their riches. Then there reigned after them a +wise ruler, who was just, keen-witted, and accomplished, and loved +tales and legends, especially those which chronicle the doings of +Sovrans and Sultans, and he found in the treasury these marvelous +stories and wondrous histories, contained in the thirty volumes +aforesaid. So he read in them a first book and a second and a third +and so on to the last of them, and each book astounded and +delighted him more than that which preceded it, till he came to the +end of them. Then he admired what so he had read therein of +description and discourse and rare traits and anecdotes and moral +instances and reminiscences, and bade the folk copy them and +dispread them over all lands and climes; wherefore their report was +bruited abroad and the people named them 'The marvels and wonders +of the Thousand Nights and A Night.' This is all that hath come +down to us of the origin of this book, and Allah is All-knowing. So +Glory be to Him Whom the shifts of Time waste not away, nor doth +aught of chance or change affect His sway! Whom one case diverteth +not from other case, and Who is sole in the attributes of perfect +grace. And prayer and the Peace be upon the Lord's Pontiff and +Chosen One among His creatures, our Lord MOHAMMED the Prince of +mankind, through whom we supplicate Him for a goodly and a godly +end.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ARABIC_LITERATURE"></a>ARABIC LITERATURE</h2> +<h3>BY RICHARD GOTTHEIL</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-o.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>f no civilization is the complexion of its literary remains so +characteristic of its varying fortunes as is that of the Arabic. +The precarious conditions of desert life and of the tent, the more +certain existence in settled habitations, the grandeur of empire +acquired in a short period of enthusiastic rapture, the softening +influence of luxury and unwonted riches, are so faithfully +portrayed in the literature of the Arabs as to give us a picture of +the spiritual life of the people which no mere massing of facts can +ever give. Well aware of this themselves, the Arabs at an early +date commenced the collection and preservation of their old +literary monuments with a care and a studious concern which must +excite within us a feeling of wonder. For the material side of life +must have made a strong appeal to these people when they came forth +from their desert homes. Pride in their own doings, pride in their +own past, must have spurred them on; yet an ardent feeling for the +beautiful in speech is evident from the beginning of their history. +The first knowledge that we have of the tribes scattered up and +down the deserts and oases of the Arabian peninsula comes to us in +the verses of their poets. The early Teuton bards, the rhapsodists +of Greece, were not listened to with more rapt attention than was +the simple Bedouin, who, seated on his mat or at the door of his +tent, gave vent to his feelings of joy or sorrow in such manner as +nature had gifted him. As are the ballads for Scottish history, so +are the verses of these untutored bards the record of the life in +which they played no mean part. Nor could the splendors of court +life at Damascus, Bagdad, or Cordova make their rulers insensible +to the charms of poetry,--that "beautiful poetry with which Allah +has adorned the Muslim." A verse happily said could always charm, a +satire well pointed could always incite; and the true Arab of +to-day will listen to those so adorned with the same rapt attention +as did his fathers of long ago.</p> +<p>This gift of the desert--otherwise so sparing of its favors--has +not failed to leave its impression upon the whole Arabic +literature. Though it has produced some prose writers of value, +writing, as an art to charm and to please, has always sought the +measured cadence of poetry or the unmeasured symmetry of rhymed +prose. Its first lispings are in the "trembling" (rájaz) +metre,--iambics, rhyming in the same syllable throughout; impromptu +verses, in which the poet expressed the feelings of the moment: a +measure which, the Arabs say, matches the trembling trot of the +she-camel. It is simple in its character; coming so near to rhymed +prose that Khalíl (born 718), the great grammarian, would +not willingly admit that such lines could really be called poetry. +Some of these verses go back to the fourth and fifth centuries of +our era. But a growing sense of the poet's art was incompatible +with so simple a measure; and a hundred years before the appearance +of the Prophet, many of the canonical sixteen metres were already +in vogue. Even the later complete poems bear the stamp of their +origin, in the loose connection with which the different parts +stand to each other. The "Kasídah" (poem) is built upon the +principle that each verse must be complete in itself,--there being +no stanzas,--and separable from the context; which has made +interpolations and omissions in the older poems a matter of +ease.</p> +<p>The classical period of Arabic poetry, which reaches from the +beginning of the sixth century to the beginning of the eighth, is +dominated by this form of the Kasídah. Tradition refers its +origin to one al-Muhalhel ibn Rabí'a of the tribe of +Taghlib, about one hundred and fifty years before Muhammad; though, +as is usual, this honor is not uncontested. The Kasídah is +composed of distichs, the first two of which only are to rhyme; +though every line must end in the same syllable. It must have at +least seven or ten verses, and may reach up to one hundred or over. +In nearly every case it deals with a tribe or a single person,--the +poet himself or a friend,--and may be either a panegyric, a satire, +an elegy, or a eulogy. That which it is the aim of the poet to +bring out comes last; the greater part of the poem being of the +nature of a <i>captatio benevolentia</i>. Here he can show his full +power of expression. He usually commences with the description of a +deserted camping-ground, where he sees the traces of his beloved. +He then adds the erotic part, and describes at length his deeds of +valor in the chase or in war; in order, then, to lead over to the +real object he has in view. Because of this disposition of the +material, which is used by the greater poets of this time, the +general form of the Kasídah became in a measure stereotyped. +No poem was considered perfect unless molded in this form.</p> +<p>Arabic poetry is thus entirely lyrical. There was too little, +among these tribes, of the common national life which forms the +basis for the Epos. The Semitic genius is too subjective, and has +never gotten beyond the first rude attempts at dramatic +composition. Even in its lyrics, Arabic poetry is still more +subjective than the Hebrew of the Bible. It falls generally into +the form of an allocution, even where it is descriptive. It is the +poet who speaks, and his personality pervades the whole poem. He +describes nature as he finds it, with little of the imaginative, +"in dim grand outlines of a picture which must be filled up by the +reader, guided only by a few glorious touches powerfully standing +out." A native quickness of apprehension and intense feeling +nurtured this poetic sentiment among the Arabs. The continuous +enmity among the various tribes produced a sort of knight-errantry +which gave material to the poet; and the richness of his language +put a tongue in his mouth which could voice forth the finest shades +of description or sentiment. Al-Damári has wisely said: +"Wisdom has alighted upon three things,--the brain of the Franks, +the hands of the Chinese, and the tongues of the Arabs."</p> +<p>The horizon which bounded the Arab poet's view was not far drawn +out. He describes the scenes of his desert life: the sand dunes; +the camel, antelope, wild ass, and gazelle; his bow and arrow and +his sword; his loved one torn from him by the sudden striking of +the tents and departure of her tribe. The virtues which he sings +are those in which he glories, "love of freedom, independence in +thought and action, truthfulness, largeness of heart, generosity, +and hospitality." His descriptions breathe the freshness of his +outdoor life and bring us close to nature: his whole tone rings out +a solemn note, which is even in his lighter moments grave and +serious,--as existence itself was for those sons of the desert, who +had no settled habitation, and who, more than any one, depended +upon the bounty of Allah. Although these Kasídahs passed +rapidly from mouth to mouth, little would have been preserved for +us had there not been a class of men who, led on some by desire, +some by necessity, made it their business to write down the +compositions, and to keep fresh in their memory the very +pronunciation of each word. Every poet had such a Ráwiah. Of +one Hammád it is said that he could recite one hundred +Kasídahs rhyming on each letter of the alphabet, each +Kasídah having at least one hundred verses. Abu +Tammám (805), the author of the 'Hamásah,' is +reported to have known by heart fourteen thousand pieces of the +metre rájaz. It was not, however, until the end of the first +century of the Híjrah that systematic collections of this +older literature were commenced.</p> +<p>It was this very Hammád (died 777) who put together seven +of the choicest poems of the early Arabs. He called them 'Mu +'allakât,'--"the hung up" (in a place of honor, in the +estimation of the people). The authors of these seven poems were: +Imr-al-Kais, Tárafa, Zuhéir, Labîd (570), +'Antara, 'Amr, and al-Hárith. The common verdict of their +countrymen has praised the choice made by Hammád. The seven +remained the great models, to which later poets aspired: in +description of love, those of Imr-al-Kais and 'Antara; in that of +the camel and the horse, Labîd; of battle, 'Amr; in the +praise of arms, Hárith; in wise maxims, Zuhéir. To +these must be added al-Nabighah, 'Alkamah, Urwa ibn al-Ward, +Hássan ibn Thábit, al-A'sha, Aus ibn Hájar, +and as-Shánfarah, whose poem has been called "the most +magnificent of old Arabic poems." In addition to the single poems +found in the 'Mu 'allakât' and elsewhere, nearly all of these +composed whole series of poems, which were at a later time put in +the form of collections and called 'Diwans.' Some of these poets +have left us as many as four hundred verses. Such collections were +made by grammarians and antiquarians of a later age. In addition to +the collections made around the name of a single poet, others were +made, fashioned upon a different principle: The +'Mufáddaliyát' (the most excellent poems), put +together by al-Mufáddal (761); the 'Diwan' of the poets of +the tribe of Hudhéil; the 'Hamásah' (Bravery; so +called from the subject of the first of the ten books into which +the collection is divided) of Abu Tammám. The best anthology +of these poems is 'The Great Book of Songs,' put together by Abu +al-Fáraj al-Ispa-háni (died 967).</p> +<p>With these poets Arabic literature reached its highest +development. They are the true expression of the free Arabic +spirit. Most of them lived before or during the time of the +appearance of Muhammad. His coming produced a great change in the +life of the simple Bedouins. Though they could not be called +heathen, their religion expressed itself in the simple feeling of +dependence upon higher powers, without attempting to bring this +faith into a close connection with their daily life. Muhammad +introduced a system into which he tried to mold all things. He +wished to unite the scattered tribes to one only purpose. He was +thus cutting away that untrammeled spirit and that free life which +had been the making of Arabic poetry. He knew this well. He knew +also the power the poets had over the people. His own 'Qur'an' +(Koran) was but a poor substitute for the elegant verses of his +opponents. "Imr-al-Kais," he said, "is the finest of all poets, and +their leader into everlasting fire." On another occasion he is +reported to have called out, "Verily, a belly full of matter is +better than a belly full of poetry." Even when citing verses, he +quoted them in such a manner as to destroy the metre. Abu Bekr very +properly remarked, "Truly God said in the 'Qur'an,' 'We have not +taught him poetry, and it suits him not.'" In thus decrying the +poets of "barbarism," and in setting up the 'Qur'an' as the +greatest production of Arabic genius, Muhammad was turning the +national poetry to its decline. Happily his immediate successors +were unable or unwilling to follow him strictly. Ali himself, his +son-in-law, is said to have been a poet; nor did the Umáyyid +Caliphs of Damascus, "very heathens in their carnal part," bring +the new spirit to its full bloom, as did the Abbassides of +Bagdad.</p> +<p>And yet the old spirit was gradually losing ground. The +consolidation of the empire brought greater security; the riches of +Persia and Syria produced new types of men. The centre of Arab life +was now in the city, with all its trammels, its forced politeness, +its herding together. The simplicity which characterized the early +caliphs was going; in its place was come a court,--court life, +court manners, court poets. The love of poetry was still there; but +the poet of the tent had become the poet of the house and the +palace. Like those troubadours who had become jongleurs, they lived +upon the crumbs which fell from the table of princes. Such crumbs +were often not to be despised. Many a time and oft the bard tuned +his lyre merely for the price of his services. We know that he was +richly rewarded. Harún gave a dress worth four hundred +thousand pieces of gold to Já'far ibn Yahya; at his death, +Ibn 'Ubeid al-Buchtarí (865) left one hundred complete suits +of dress, two hundred shirts, and five hundred turbans--all of +which had been given him for his poems. The freshness of olden +times was fading little by little; the earnestness of the Bedouin +poet was making way for a lightness of heart. In this intermediate +period, few were born so happily, and yet so imbued with the new +spirit, as was 'Umar ibn 'Rabí'a (644), "the man of pleasure +as well as the man of literature." Of rich parentage, gifted with a +love of song which moved him to speak in verses, he was able to +keep himself far from both prince and palace. He was of the family +of Kureísh, in whose Muhammad all the glories of Arabia had +centred, with one exception,--the gift of poetry. And now "this Don +Juan of Mecca, this Ovid of Arabia," was to wipe away that stain. +He was the Arabian Minnesinger, whom Friedrich Rückert called +"the greatest love-poet the Arabs have produced." A man of the +city, the desert had no attractions for him. But he sang of love as +he made love,--with utter disregard of holy place or high station, +in an erotic strain strange to the stern Umáyyids. No wonder +they warned their children against reading his compositions. "The +greatest sin committed against Allah are the poems of 'Umar ibn +Rabí'a," they said.</p> +<p>With the rise of the Abbassides (750), that "God-favored +dynasty," Arabic literature entered upon its second great +development; a development which may be distinguished from that of +the Umáyyids (which was Arabian) as, in very truth, +Muhammadan. With Bagdad as the capital, it was rather the +non-Arabic Persians who held aloft the torch than the Arabs +descended from Kuréish. It was a bold move, this attempt to +weld the old Persian civilization with the new Muhammadan. Yet so +great was the power of the new faith that it succeeded. The +Barmecide major-domo ably seconded his Abbasside master; the glory +of both rests upon the interest they took in art, literature, and +science. The Arab came in contact with a new world. Under +Mansúr (754), Harun al-Rashid (786), and Ma'mún +(813), the wisdom of the Greeks in philosophy and science, the +charms of Persia and India in wit and satire, were opened up to +enlightened eyes. Upon all of these, whatever their nationality, +Islam had imposed the Arab tongue, pride in the faith and in its +early history. 'Qur'an' exegesis, philosophy, law, history, and +science were cultivated under the very eyes and at the bidding of +the Palace. And, at least for several centuries, Europe was +indebted to the culture of Bagdad for what it knew of mathematics, +astronomy, and philosophy.</p> +<p>The Arab muse profited with the rest of this revival. History +and philosophy, as a study, demanded a close acquaintance with the +products of early Arab genius. The great philologian +al-Asmái (740-831) collected the songs and tales of the +heroic age; and a little later, with other than philological ends +in view, Abu Tammám and al-Búchturí (816-913) +made the first anthologies of the old Arabic literatures +('Hamásah'). Poetry was already cultivated: and amid the +hundreds of wits, poets, and singers who thronged the entrance to +the court, there are many who claim real poetic genius. Among them +are al-Ahtal (died 713), a Christian; 'Umar ibn Rabí'a (died +728), Jarír al-Farázdak (died 728), and Muslim ibn +al-Walíd (died 828). But it is rather the Persian spirit +which rules,--the spirit of the Shahnámeh and +Firdaúsi,--"charming elegance, servile court flattery, and +graceful wit." In none are the characteristics so manifest as in +Abu Núwas (762-819), the Poet Laureate of Harun, the +Imr-al-Kais of his time. His themes are wine and love. Everything +else he casts to the wind; and like his modern counterpart, Heine, +he drives the wit of his satire deep into the holiest feelings of +his people. "I would that all which Religion and Law forbids were +permitted me; and if I had only two years to live, that God would +change me into a dog at the Temple in Mecca, so that I might bite +every pilgrim in the leg," he is reported to have said. When he +himself did once make the required pilgrimage, he did so in order +to carry his loves up to the very walls of the sacred house. +"Jovial, adventure-loving, devil-may-care," irreligious in all he +did, yet neither the Khalif nor the whole Muhammadan world were +incensed. In spite of all, they petted him and pronounced his +wine-songs the finest ever written; full of thought and replete +with pictures, rich in language and true to every touch of nature. +"There are no poems on wine equal to my own, and to my amatory +compositions all others must yield," he himself has said. He was +poor and had to live by his talents. But wherever he went he was +richly rewarded. He was content only to be able to live in +shameless revelry and to sing. As he lived, so he died,--in a +half-drunken group, cut to pieces by those who thought themselves +offended by his lampoons.</p> +<p>At the other end of the Muslim world, the star of the +Umáyyids, which had set at Damascus, rose again at Cordova. +The union of two civilizations--Indo-Germanic and Semitic--was as +advantageous in the West as in the East. The influence of the +spirit of learning which reigned at Bagdad reached over to Spain, +and the two dynasties vied with each other in the patronage of all +that was beautiful in literature and learned in science. Poetry was +cultivated and poets cherished with a like regard: the Spanish +innate love of the Muse joined hands with that of the Arabic. It +was the same kind of poetry in Umáyyid Spain as in Abbasside +Bagdad: poetry of the city and of the palace. But another element +was added here,--the Western love for the softer beauties of +nature, and for their expression in finely worked out mosaics and +in graceful descriptions. It is this that brings the Spanish-Arabic +poetry nearer to us than the more splendid and glittering verses of +the Abbassides, or the cruder and less polished lines of the first +Muhammadans. The amount of poetry thus composed in Arab Spain may +be gauged by the fact that an anthology made during the first half +of the tenth century, by Ibn Fáraj, contained twenty +thousand verses. Cordova under 'Abd-al-Rahmán III. and +Hákim II. was the counterpart of Bagdad under Harun. "The +most learned prince that ever lived," Hákim was so renowned +a patron of literature that learned men wandered to him from all +over the Arab Empire. He collected a library of four hundred +thousand volumes, which had been gathered together by his agents in +Egypt, Syria, and Persia: the catalogue of which filled forty-four +volumes. In Cordova he founded a university and twenty-seven free +schools. What wonder that all the sciences--Tradition, Theology, +Jurisprudence, and especially History and Geography--flourished +during his reign. Of the poets of this period there may be +mentioned: Sa'íd ibn Júdi--the pattern of the Knight +of those days, the poet loved of women; Yáhyah ibn Hakam, +"the gazelle"; Ahmad ibn 'Abd Rabbíh, the author of a +commonplace book; Ibn Abdún of Badjiz, Ibn Hafájah of +Xucar, Ibn Sa'íd of Granada. Kings added a new jewel to +their crown, and took an honored place among the bards; as 'Abd +al-Rahmán I., and Mu'tamid (died 1095), the last King of +Seville, whose unfortunate life he himself has pictured in most +beautiful elegies. Although the short revival under the Almohades +(1184-1198) produced such men as Ibn Roshd, the commentator on +Aristotle, and Ibn Toféil, who wrote the first 'Robinson +Crusoe' story, the sun was already setting. When Ferdinand burned +the books which had been so laboriously collected, the dying flame +of Arab culture in Spain went out.</p> +<p>During the third period--from Ma'mún (813), under whom +the Turkish body-guards began to wield their baneful influence, +until the break-up of the Abbasside Empire in 1258--there are many +names, but few real poets, to be mentioned. The Arab spirit had +spent itself, and the Mogul cloud was on the horizon. There were +'Abd-allah ibn al-Mu'tazz, died 908; Abu Firás, died 967; +al-Tughrai, died 1120; al-Busíri, died 1279,--author of the +'Búrda,' poem in praise of Muhammad: but +al-Mutanábbi, died 965, alone deserves special mention. The +"Prophet-pretender"--for such his name signifies--has been called +by Von Hammer "the greatest Arabian poet"; and there is no doubt +that his 'Diwán,' with its two hundred and eighty-nine +poems, was and is widely read in the East. But it is only a +depraved taste that can prefer such an epigene to the fresh +desert-music of Imr-al-Kais. Panegyrics, songs of war and of +bloodshed, are mostly the themes that he dilates upon. He was in +the service of Saif al-Dáulah of Syria, and sang his +victories over the Byzantine Kaiser. He is the true type of the +prince's poet. Withal, the taste for poetic composition grew, +though it produced a smaller number of great poets. But it also +usurped for itself fields which belong to entirely different +literary forms. Grammar, lexicography, philosophy, and theology +were expounded in verse; but the verse was formal, stiff, and +unnatural. Poetic composition became a <i>tour de force</i>.</p> +<p>This is nowhere better seen than in that species of composition +which appeared for the first time in the eleventh century, and +which so pleased and charmed a degenerate age as to make of the +'Makamat' the most favorite reading. Ahmad Abu Fadl +al-Hamadhání, "the wonder of all time" (died 1007), +composed the first of such "sessions." Of his four hundred only a +few have come down to our time. Abu Muhammad al-Hariri (1030-1121), +of Bâsra, is certainly the one who made this species of +literature popular; he has been closely imitated in Hebrew by +Charízi (1218), and in Syriac by Ebed Yéshu (1290). +"Makámah" means the place where one stands, where assemblies +are held; then, the discourses delivered, or conversations held in +such an assembly. The word is used here especially to denote a +series of "discourses and conversations composed in a highly +finished and ornamental style, and solely for the purpose of +exhibiting various kinds of eloquence, and exemplifying the rules +of grammar, rhetoric, and poetry." Hariri himself speaks of--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"These 'Makamat,' which contain serious language and +lightsome,</p> +<p class="i4">And combine refinement with dignity of style,</p> +<p class="i4">And brilliancies with jewels of eloquence,</p> +<p class="i4">And beauties of literature with its rarities,</p> +<p>Besides quotations from the 'Qur'an,' wherewith I adorned +them,</p> +<p>And choice metaphors, and Arab proverbs that I interspersed,</p> +<p class="i3">And literary elegancies, and grammatical riddles,</p> +<p class="i3">And decisions upon ambiguous legal questions,</p> +<p class="i2">And original improvisations, and highly wrought +orations,</p> +<p class="i2">And plaintive discourses, as well as jocose +witticisms."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The design is thus purely literary. The fifty "sessions" of +Hariri, which are written in rhymed prose interspersed with poetry, +contain oratorical, poetical, moral, encomiastic, and satirical +discourses, which only the merest thread holds together. Each +Makámah is a unit, and has no necessary connection with that +which follows. The thread which so loosely binds them together is +the delineation of the character of Abu Zeid, the hero, in his own +words. He is one of those wandering minstrels and happy improvisers +whom the favor of princes had turned into poetizing beggars. In +each Makámah is related some ruse, by means of which Abu +Zeid, because of his wonderful gift of speech, either persuades or +forces those whom he meets to pay for his sustenance, and furnish +the means for his debauches. Not the least of those thus ensnared +is his great admirer, Háreth ibn Hammám, the narrator +of the whole, who is none other than Hariri. Wearied at last with +his life of travel, debauch, and deception, Abu Zeid retires to his +native city and becomes an ascetic, thus to atone in a measure for +his past sins. The whole might be called, not improperly, a tale, a +novel. But the intention of the poet is to show forth the richness +and variety of the Arabic language; and his own power over this +great mass brings the descriptive--one might almost say the +lexicographic--side too much to the front. A poem that can be read +either backward or forward, or which contains all the words in the +language beginning with a certain letter, may be a wonderful +mosaic, but is nothing more. The merit of Hariri lies just in this: +that working in such cramped quarters, with such intent and design +continually guiding his pen, he has often really done more. He has +produced rhymed prose and verses which are certainly elegant in +diction and elevated in tone.</p> +<p>Such tales as these, told as an exercise of linguistic +gymnastics, must not blind us to the presence of real tales, told +for their own sake. Arabic literature has been very prolific in +these. They lightened the graver subjects discussed in the +tent,--philosophy, religion, and grammar,--and they furnished +entertainment for the more boisterous assemblies in the +coffee-houses and around the bowl. For the Arab is an inveterate +story-teller; and in nearly all the prose that he writes, this +character of the "teller" shimmers clearly through the work of the +"writer." He is an elegant narrator. Not only does he intersperse +verses and lines more frequently than our own taste would license: +by nature, he easily falls into the half-hearted poetry of rhymed +prose, for which the rich assonances of his language predispose. +His own learning was further cultivated by his early contact with +Persian literature; through which the fable and the wisdom of India +spoken from the mouths of dumb animals reached him. In this more +frivolous form of inculcating wisdom, the Prophet scented danger to +his strait-laced demands: "men who bring sportive legends, to lead +astray from God's path without knowledge and to make a jest of it; +for such is shameful woe," is written in the thirty-first Surah. In +vain; for in hours of relaxation, such works as the 'Fables of +Bidpai' (translated from the Persian in 750 by 'Abd Allah ibn +Mukáffah), the 'Ten Viziers,' the 'Seven Wise Masters,' +etc., proved to be food too palatable. Nor were the Arabs wanting +in their own peculiar 'Romances,' influenced only in some portions +of the setting by Persian ideas. Such were the 'Story of Saif ibn +dhi Yázan,' the 'Tale of al-Zir,' the 'Romance of +Dálhmah,' and especially the 'Romance of Antar' and the +'Thousand Nights and A Night.' The last two romances are excellent +commentaries on Arab life, at its dawn and at its fullness, among +the roving chiefs of the desert and the homes of revelry in Bagdad. +As the rough-hewn poetry of Imr-al-Kais and Zuhéir is a +clearer exponent of the real Arab mind, roving at its own +suggestion, than the more perfect and softer lines of a +Mutanábbi, so is the 'Romance of Antar' the full expression +of real Arab hero-worship. And even in the cities of the Orient +to-day, the loungers in their cups can never weary of following the +exploits of this black son of the desert, who in his person unites +the great virtues of his people, magnanimity and bravery, with the +gift of poetic speech. Its tone is elevated; its coarseness has as +its origin the outspokenness of unvarnished man; it does not peep +through the thin veneer of licentious suggestiveness. It is never +trivial, even in its long and wearisome descriptions, in its +ever-recurring outbursts of love. Its language suits its thought: +choice and educated, and not descending--as in the 'Nights'--to the +common expressions of ordinary speech. In this it resembles the +'Makamat' of Hariri, though much less artificial and more +enjoyable. It is the Arabic romance of chivalry, and may not have +been without influence on the spread of the romance of +mediæval Europe. For though its central figure is a hero of +pre-Islamic times, it was put together by the learned philologian, +al-'Asmái, in the days of Harun the Just, at the time when +Charlemagne was ruling in Europe.</p> +<p>There exist in Arabic literature very few romances of the length +of 'Antar.' Though the Arab delights to hear and to recount tales, +his tales are generally short and pithy. It is in this shorter form +that he delights to inculcate principles of morality and norms of +character. He is most adroit at repartee and at pungent replies. He +has a way of stating principles which delights while it instructs. +The anecdote is at home in the East: many a favor is gained, many a +punishment averted, by a quick answer and a felicitously turned +expression. Such anecdotes exist as popular traditions in very +large numbers; and he receives much consideration whose mind is +well stocked with them. Collections of anecdotes have been put to +writing from time to time. Those dealing with the early history of +the caliphate are among the best prose that the Arabs have +produced. For pure prose was never greatly cultivated. The +literature dealing with their own history, or with the geography +and culture of the nations with which they came in contact, is very +large, and as a record of facts is most important. Ibn +Hishám (died 767), Wákidi (died 822), Tabari +(838-923), Masudi (died 957), Ibn Athír (died 1233), Ibn +Khaldún (died 1406), Makrisi (died 1442), Suyúti +(died 1505), and Makkári (died 1631), are only a few of +those who have given us large and comprehensive histories. +Al-Birúni (died 1038), writer, mathematician, and traveler, +has left us an account of the India of his day which has earned for +him the title "Herodotus of India," though for careful observation +and faithful presentation he stands far above the writer with whose +name he is adorned. But nearly all of these historical writers are +mere chronologists, dry and wearisome to the general reader. It is +only in the Preface, or 'Exordium,' often the most elaborate part +of the whole book viewed from a rhetorical standpoint, that they +attempt to rise above mere incidents and strive after literary +form. Besides the regard in which anecdotes are held, it is +considered a mark of education to insert in one's speech as often +as possible a familiar saying, a proverb, a <i>bon mot</i>. These +are largely used in the moral addresses (Khútbah) made in +the mosque or elsewhere, addresses which take on also the form of +rhymed prose. A famous collection of such sayings is attributed to +'Ali, the fourth successor of Muhammad. In these the whole power of +the Arab for subtle distinctions in matters of wordly wisdom, and +the truly religious feeling of the East, are clearly +manifested.</p> +<p>The propensity of the Arab mind for the tale and the anecdote +has had a wider influence in shaping the religious and legal +development, of Muhammadanism than would appear at first sight. The +'Qur'an' might well suffice as a directive code for a small body of +men whose daily life was simple, and whose organization was of the +crudest kind. But even Muhammad in his own later days was called on +to supplement the written word by the spoken, to interpret such +parts of his "book" as were unintelligible, to reconcile +conflicting statements, and to fit the older legislation to changed +circumstances. As the religious head of the community, his dictum +became law; and these <i>logia</i> of the Prophet were handed +around and handed down as the unwritten law by which his +lieutenants were to be guided, in matters not only religious, but +also legal. For "law" to them was part and parcel of "religion." +This "hadith" grew apace, until, in the third century of the +Híjrah, it was put to writing. Nothing bears weight which +has not the stamp of Muhammad's authority, as reported by his near +surroundings and his friends. In such a mass of tradition, great +care is taken to separate the chaff from the wheat. The chain of +tradition (Isnád) must be given for each tradition, for each +anecdote. But the "friends" of the Prophet are said to have +numbered seven thousand five hundred, and it has not been easy to +keep out fraud and deception. The subjects treated are most varied, +sometimes even trivial, but dealing usually with recondite +questions of law and morals. Three great collections of the +'Hadíth' have been made: by al-Buchári (869), +Múslim (874), and al-Tirmídhi (892). The first two +only are considered canonical. From these are derived the three +great systems of jurisprudence which to this day hold good in the +Muhammadan world.</p> +<p>The best presentation of the characteristics of Arabic poetry is +by W. Ahlwardt, 'Ueber Poesie und Poetik der Araber' (Gotha, 1856); +of Arabic metres, by G.W. Freytag, 'Darstellung der Arabischen +Verkunst' (Bonn, 1830). Translations of Arabic poetry have been +published by J.D. Carlyle, 'Specimens of Arabic Poetry' (Cambridge, +1796); W.A. Clouston, 'Arabic Poetry' (Glasgow, 1881); C.J. Lyall, +'Translations of Ancient Arabic Poetry' (London, 1885). The history +of Arabic literature is given in Th. Nöldeke's 'Beiträge +zur Kenntniss der Poesie der Alten Araber' (Hanover, 1864), and F. +F. Arbuthnot's 'Arabic Authors' (London, 1890).</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-212.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="DESCRIPTION_OF_A_MOUNTAIN_STORM"></a> +<b>DESCRIPTION OF A MOUNTAIN STORM</b></p> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From the most celebrated of the 'Mu 'allakât,' that of +Imr-al-Kais, 'The Wandering King': Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>O friend, see the lightning there! it flickered and now is +gone,</p> +<p class="i1">as though flashed a pair of hands in the pillar of +crowned cloud.</p> +<p>Now, was it its blaze, or the lamps of a hermit that dwells +alone,</p> +<p class="i1">and pours o'er the twisted wicks the oil from his +slender cruse?</p> +<p>We sat there, my fellows and I, 'twixt Dárij and +al-Udhaib,</p> +<p class="i1">and gazed as the distance gloomed, and waited its +oncoming.</p> +<p>The right of its mighty rain advanced over Katan's ridge;</p> +<p class="i1">the left of its trailing skirt swept Yadhbul and +as-Sitar:</p> +<p>Then over Kutaifah's steep the flood of its onset drave,</p> +<p class="i1">and headlong before its storm the tall trees were +borne to ground;</p> +<p>And the drift of its waters passed o'er the crags of +al-Kanân,</p> +<p class="i1">and drave forth the white-legged deer from the refuge +they sought therein.</p> +<p>And Taimá--it left not there the stem of a palm +aloft,</p> +<p class="i1">nor ever a tower, save ours, firm built on the living +rock.</p> +<p>And when first its misty shroud bore down upon Mount +Thabîr,</p> +<p class="i1">he stood like an ancient man in a gray-streaked +mantle wrapt.</p> +<p>The clouds cast their burdens down on the broad plain of +al-Ghabit,</p> +<p class="i1">as a trader from al-Yaman unfolds from the bales his +store;</p> +<p>And the topmost crest, on the morrow, of al-Mujaimir's +cairn,</p> +<p class="i1">was heaped with the flood-borne wrack, like wool on a +distaff wound.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><a name="FROM_THE_MU_ALLAKAT_OF_ZUHEIR"></a> +<b>FROM THE 'MU 'ALLAKÂT' OF ZUHÉIR</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A lament for the desertion, through a war, of his former home +and the haunts of his tribe;<br> +Translation of C. J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>I</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Are they of Umm Aufà's tents--these black lines that +speak no word</p> +<p class="i1">in the stony plain of al-Mutathellam and +al-Darraj?</p> +<p>Yea, and the place where his camp stood in ar-Rakmatan is +now</p> +<p class="i1">like the tracery drawn afresh by the veins of the +inner wrist.</p> +<p>The wild kine roam there large-eyed, and the deer pass to and +fro,</p> +<p class="i1">and their younglings rise up to suck from the spots +where they all lie round.</p> +<p>I stood there and gazed; since I saw it last twenty years had +flown,</p> +<p class="i1">and much I pondered thereon: hard was it to know +again--</p> +<p>The black stones in order laid in the place where the pot was +set,</p> +<p class="i1">and the trench like a cistern's root with its sides +unbroken still.</p> +<p>And when I knew it, at last, for his resting-place, I cried,</p> +<p class="i1">"Good greeting to thee, O house! Fair peace in the +morn to thee!"</p> +<p>Look forth, O friend! canst thou see aught of ladies, +camel-borne,</p> +<p class="i1">that journey along the upland there, above Jurthum +well?</p> +<p>Their litters are hung with precious stuffs, and their veils +thereon</p> +<p class="i1">cast loosely, their borders rose, as though they were +dyed in blood.</p> +<p>Sideways they sat as their beasts clomb the ridge of +as-Sûbân;</p> +<p class="i1">in them were the sweetness and grace of one nourished +in wealth and ease.</p> +<p>They went on their way at dawn--they started before sunrise;</p> +<p class="i1">straight did they make for the vale of ar-Rass, as +hand for mouth.</p> +<p>Dainty and playful their mood to one who should try its +worth,</p> +<p class="i1">and faces fair to an eye skilled to trace out +loveliness.</p> +<p>And the tassels of scarlet wool, in the spots where they gat +them down</p> +<p class="i1">glowed red, like to '<i>ishrik</i> seeds, +fresh-fallen, unbroken, bright.</p> +<p>And then they reached the wells where the deep-blue water +lies,</p> +<p class="i1">they cast down their staves, and set them to pitch +the tents for rest.</p> +<p>On their right hand rose al-Kanân, and the rugged skirts +thereof--</p> +<p class="i1">(and in al-Kanân how many are foes and friends +of mine!)</p> +<p>At eve they left as-Sûbân; then they crossed the +ridge again,</p> +<p class="i1">borne on the fair-fashioned litters, all new and +builded broad.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>[Certain cantos, to the sixth one, reproach the author of the +treachery and quarrel that led to the war and migration. Then +follows a series of maxims as to human life and conduct.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>VI</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Aweary am I of life's toil and travail: he who like me</p> +<p class="i1">has seen pass of years fourscore, well may he be sick +of life!</p> +<p>I know what To-day unfolds, what before it was Yesterday;</p> +<p class="i1">but blind do I stand before the knowledge To-morrow +brings.</p> +<p>I have seen the Dooms trample men as a blind beast at random +treads:</p> +<p class="i1">whom they smote, he died; whom they missed, he lived +on to strengthless eld.</p> +<p>Who gathers not friends by help, in many cases of need</p> +<p class="i1">is torn by the blind beast's teeth, or trodden +beneath its foot.</p> +<p>And he who his honor shields by the doing of a kindly deed</p> +<p class="i1">grows richer; who shuts not the mouth of reviling, it +lights on him.</p> +<p>And he who is lord of wealth and niggardly with his hoard,</p> +<p class="i1">alone is he left by his kin; naught have they for him +but blame.</p> +<p>Who keeps faith, no blame he earns, and that man whose heart is +led</p> +<p class="i1">to goodness unmixed with guile gains freedom and +peace of soul.</p> +<p>Who trembles before the Dooms, yea, him shall they surely +seize,</p> +<p class="i1">albeit he set a ladder to climb the sky.</p> +<p>Who spends on unworthy men his kindness with lavish hand;</p> +<p class="i1">no praise doth he earn, but blame, and repentance the +seed thereof.</p> +<p>Who will not yield to the spears, when their feet turn to him in +peace,</p> +<p class="i1">shall yield to the points thereof, and the long +flashing blades of steel.</p> +<p>Who holds not his foe away from his cistern with sword and +spear,</p> +<p class="i1">it is broken and spoiled; who uses not roughness, him +shall men wrong.</p> +<p>Who seeks far away from kin for housing, takes foe for +friend;</p> +<p class="i1">who honors himself not well, no honor gains he from +men.</p> +Who makes of his soul a beast of burden to bear men's loads, +<p class="i1">nor shields it one day from shame, yea, sorrow shall +be his lot.</p> +<p>Whatso be the shaping of mind that a man is born withal,</p> +<p class="i1">though he think it lies hid from men, it shall surely +one day be known.</p> +<p>How many a man seemed goodly to thee while he held his +peace,</p> +<p class="i1">whereof thou didst learn the more or less when he +turned to speech.</p> +<p>The tongue is a man's one-half, the other, the heart within;</p> +<p class="i1">besides these two naught is left but a semblance of +flesh and blood.</p> +<p>If a man be old and a fool, his folly is past all cure;</p> +<p class="i1">but a young man may yet grow wise and cast off his +foolishness.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>VII</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We asked, and ye gave; we asked again, and ye gave again:</p> +<p class="i1">but the end of much asking must be that no giving +shall follow it.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><a name="TARAFAH_IBN_AL_ABD"></a><b>TARAFAH IBN AL +'ABD</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A rebuke to a mischief-maker: Translation of C. J. Lyall</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The craft of thy busy tongue has sundered from home and kin</p> +<p class="i1">the cousins of both thy houses, 'Amr, 'Auf, and +Mâlik's son.</p> +<p>For thou to thy dearest art a wind of the bitter north,</p> +<p class="i1">that sweeps from the Syrian hills, and wrinkles our +cheeks and brows.</p> +<p>But balmy art thou and mild to strangers, a gracious breeze</p> +<p class="i1">that brings from the gulf shore showers and fills +with its rain our streams.</p> +<p>And this, of a truth, I know--no fancy it is of mine:</p> +<p class="i1">who holds mean his kith and kin, the meanest of men +is he!</p> +<p>And surely a foolish tongue, when rules not its idle prate</p> +<p class="i1">discretion, but shows men where thou dwellest with +none to guard.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><a name="LABID"></a><b>LABÎD</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A lament for the afflictions of his tribe, the 'Âmir. From +the 'Diwan': Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Yea, the righteous shall keep the way of the righteous,</p> +<p class="i1">and to God turn the steps of all that abideth;</p> +<p>And to God ye return, too; with Him, only,</p> +<p class="i1">rest the issues of things--and all that they +gather.</p> +<p>All that is in the Book of Knowledge is reckoned,</p> +<p class="i1">and before Him revealed lies all that is hidden:</p> +<p>Both the day when His gifts of goodness on those whom</p> +<p class="i1">He exalts are as palms full freighted with +sweetness,</p> +<p>(Young, burdened with fruit, their heads bowed with +clusters,</p> +<p class="i1">swelled to bursting, the tallest e'en as the +lesser,)</p> +<p>And the day when avails the sin-spotted only</p> +<p class="i1">prayer for pardon and grace to lead him to mercy,</p> +<p>And the good deed he wrought to witness before him,</p> +<p class="i1">and the pity of Him who is Compassion:</p> +<p>Yea, a place in his shade, the best to abide in,</p> +<p class="i1">and a heart still and steadfast, right weening, +honest.</p> +<p>Is there aught good in life? Yea, I have seen it,</p> +<p class="i1">even I, if the seeing bring aught of profit.</p> +<p>Long has Life been to me; and this is its burthen:</p> +<p class="i1">lone against time abide Ti'âr and Yaramram,</p> +<p>And Kulâf and Badî' the mighty, and Dalfa',</p> +<p class="i1">yea, and Timâr, that towers aloft over +Kubbah[1];</p> +<p>And the Stars, marching all night in procession,</p> +<p class="i1">drooping westwards, as each hies forth to his +setting:</p> +<p>Sure and steadfast their course: the underworld draws them</p> +<p class="i1">gently downwards, as maidens encircling the +Pillar;</p> +<p>And we know not, whenas their lustre is vanished,</p> +<p class="i1">whether long be the ropes that bind them, or +little.</p> +<p>Lone is 'Âmir, and naught is left of her goodness,</p> +<p class="i1">in the meadows of al-A'râf, but her +dwellings--</p> +<p>Ruined shadows of tents and penfolds and shelters,</p> +<p class="i1">bough from bough rent, and spoiled by wind and by +weather.</p> +<p>Gone is 'Âmir, her ancients gone, all the wisest:</p> +<p class="i1">none remain but a folk whose war-mares are +fillies,</p> +<p>Yet they slay them in every breach in our rampart--</p> +<p class="i1">yea, and they that bestride them, true-hearted +helpers,</p> +<p>They contemn not their kin when change comes upon them,</p> +<p class="i1">Nor do we scorn the ties of blood and of succor.</p> +<p>--Now on 'Âmir be peace, and praises, and blessing,</p> +<p class="i1">wherever be on earth her way--or her halting!</p> +</div> +</div> +<blockquote>[1] +The five names foregoing are those of mountains.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_FAIR_LADY"></a> <b>A FAIR +LADY</b></p> +<p>From the 'Mu 'allakât of Antara': Translation of E.H. +Palmer</p> +<blockquote>'Twas then her beauties first enslaved my heart--<br> +Those glittering pearls and ruby lips, whose kiss<br> +Was sweeter far than honey to the taste.<br> +As when the merchant opes a precious box<br> +Of perfume, such an odor from her breath<br> +Comes toward me, harbinger of her approach;<br> +Or like an untouched meadow, where the rain<br> +Hath fallen freshly on the fragrant herbs<br> +That carpet all its pure untrodden soil:<br> +A meadow where the fragrant rain-drops fall<br> +Like coins of silver in the quiet pools,<br> +And irrigate it with perpetual streams;<br> +A meadow where the sportive insects hum,<br> +Like listless topers singing o'er their cups,<br> +And ply their forelegs, like a man who tries<br> +With maimèd hand to use the flint and steel.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_DEATH_OF_ABDALLAH"></a> <b>THE +DEATH OF 'ABDALLÂH</b></p> +<p class="heading">AND WHAT MANNER OF MAN HE WAS</p> +<p>From the original poem of Duraid, son of as-Simmah, of Jusharn: +Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I warned them both, 'Ârid, and the men who went +'Ârid's way--</p> +<p class="i1">the house of the Black Mother: yea, ye are all my +witnesses,</p> +<p>I said to them: "Think--even now, two thousand are on your +track,</p> +<p class="i1">all laden with sword and spear, their captains in +Persian mail!"</p> +<p>But when they would hearken not, I followed their road, though +I</p> +<p class="i1">knew well they were fools, and that I walked not in +Wisdom's way.</p> +<p>For am not I but one of the Ghazîyah? and if they err</p> +<p class="i1">I err with my house; and if the Ghazîyah go +right, so I.</p> +<p>I read them my rede, one day, at Mun'araj al-Liwa:</p> +<p class="i1">the morrow, at noon, they saw my counsel as I had +seen.</p> +<p>A shout rose, and voices cried, "The horsemen have slain a +knight!"</p> +<p class="i1">I said, "Is it 'Abdallâh, the man whom you say +is slain?"</p> +<p>I sprang to his side: the spears had riddled his body +through</p> +<p class="i1">as a weaver on outstretched web deftly plies the +sharp-toothed comb.</p> +<p>I stood as a camel stands with fear in her heart, and seeks</p> +<p class="i1">the stuffed skin with eager mouth, and thinks--is her +youngling slain?</p> +<p>I plied spear above him till the riders had left their prey,</p> +<p class="i1">and over myself black blood flowed in a dusky +tide.</p> +<p>I fought as a man who gives his life for his brother's life,</p> +<p class="i1">who knows that his time is short, that Death's doom +above him hangs.</p> +<p>But know ye, if 'Abdallâh be dead, and his place a +void,</p> +<p class="i1">no weakling unsure of hand, and no holder-back was +he!</p> +<p>Alert, keen, his loins well girt, his leg to the middle +bare,</p> +<p class="i1">unblemished and clean of limb, a climber to all +things high;</p> +<p>No wailer before ill-luck; one mindful in all he did</p> +<p class="i1">to think how his work to-day would live in +to-morrow's tale,</p> +<p>Content to bear hunger's pain though meat lay beneath his +hand--</p> +<p class="i1">to labor in ragged shirt that those whom he served +might rest.</p> +<p>If Dearth laid her hand on him, and Famine devoured his +store,</p> +<p class="i1">he gave but the gladlier what little to him they +spared.</p> +<p>He dealt as a youth with Youth, until, when his head grew +hoar,</p> +<p class="i1">and age gathered o'er his brow, to lightness he said, +"Begone!"</p> +<p>Yea, somewhat it soothes my soul that never I said to him</p> +<p class="i1">"thou liest," nor grudged him aught of mine that he +sought of me!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="ASH-SHANFARA_OF_AZD"></a> +<b>ASH-SHANFARÀ OF AZD</b></p> +<p>A picture of womanhood, from the 'Mufaddaliyât': +Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Alas, Umm 'Amr set her face to depart and went:</p> +<p class="i1">gone is she, and when she sped, she left with us no +farewell.</p> +<p>Her purpose was quickly shaped--no warning gave she to +friends,</p> +<p class="i1">though there she had dwelt, hard-by, her camels all +day with ours.</p> +<p>Yea, thus in our eyes she dwelt, from morning to noon and +eve--</p> +<p class="i1">she brought to an end her tale, and fleeted and left +us lone.</p> +<p>So gone is Umaimah, gone! and leaves here a heart in pain:</p> +<p class="i1">my life was to yearn for her; and now its delight is +fled.</p> +<p>She won me, whenas, shamefaced--no maid to let fall her +veil,</p> +<p class="i1">no wanton to glance behind--she walked forth with +steady tread;</p> +<p>Her eyes seek the ground, as though they looked for a thing lost +there;</p> +<p class="i1">she turns not to left or right--her answer is brief +and low.</p> +<p>She rises before day dawns to carry her supper forth</p> +<p class="i1">to wives who have need--dear alms, when such gifts +are few enow!</p> +<p>Afar from the voice of blame, her tent stands for all to +see,</p> +<p class="i1">when many a woman's tent is pitched in the place of +scorn.</p> +<p>No gossip to bring him shame from her does her husband +dread--</p> +<p class="i1">when mention is made of women, pure and unstained is +she.</p> +<p>The day done, at eve glad comes he home to his eyes' +delight:</p> +<p class="i1">he needs not to ask of her, "Say, where didst thou +pass the day?"--</p> +<p>And slender is she where meet, and full where it so beseems,</p> +<p class="i1">and tall and straight, a fairy shape, if such on +earth there be.</p> +<p>And nightlong as we sat there, methought that the tent was +roofed</p> +<p class="i1">above with basil-sprays, all fragrant in dewy +eve--</p> +<p>Sweet basil, from Halyah dale, its branches abloom and +fresh,</p> +<p class="i1">that fills all the place with balm--no starveling of +desert sands.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="ZEYNAB_AT_THE_KABAH"></a> <b>ZEYNAB AT +THE KA'BAH</b></p> +<p>From 'Umar ibn Rabí'a's 'Love Poems': Translation of W. +Gifford Palgrave</p> +<blockquote>Ah, for the throes of a heart sorely wounded!<br> +Ah, for the eyes that have smit me with madness!<br> +Gently she moved in the calmness of beauty,<br> +Moved as the bough to the light breeze of morning.<br> +Dazzled my eyes as they gazed, till before me<br> +All was a mist and confusion of figures.<br> +Ne'er had I sought her, ne'er had she sought me;<br> +Fated the love, and the hour, and the meeting.<br> +There I beheld her as she and her damsels<br> +Paced 'twixt the temple and outer inclosure;<br> +Damsels the fairest, the loveliest, gentlest,<br> +Passing like slow-wandering heifers at evening;<br> +Ever surrounding with comely observance<br> +Her whom they honor, the peerless of women.<br> +"Omar is near: let us mar his devotions,<br> +Cross on his path that he needs must observe us;<br> +Give him a signal, my sister, demurely."<br> +"Signals I gave, but he marked not or heeded,"<br> +Answered the damsel, and hasted to meet me.<br> +Ah, for that night by the vale of the sandhills!<br> +Ah, for the dawn when in silence we parted!<br> +He whom the morn may awake to her kisses<br> +Drinks from the cup of the blessed in heaven.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_UNVEILED_MAID"></a><b>THE UNVEILED +MAID</b></p> +<p>From 'Umar ibn Rabí'a's 'Love Poems': Translation of W. +Gifford Palgrave</p> +<blockquote>In the valley of Mohassib I beheld her where she +stood:<br> +Caution bade me turn aside, but love forbade and fixed me +there.<br> +Was it sunlight? or the windows of a gleaming mosque at eve,<br> +Lighted up for festal worship? or was all my fancy's dream?<br> +Ah, those earrings! ah, that necklace! Naufel's daughter sure the +maid,<br> +Or of Hashim's princely lineage, and the Servant of the Sun!<br> +But a moment flashed the splendor, as the o'er-hasty handmaids +drew<br> +Round her with a jealous hand the jealous curtains of the tent.<br> +Speech nor greeting passed between us; but she saw me, and I +saw<br> +Face the loveliest of all faces, hands the fairest of all +hands.<br> +Daughter of a better earth, and nurtured by a brighter sky;<br> +Would I ne'er had seen thy beauty! Hope is fled, but love +remains.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="FROM_THE_DIWAN_OF_AL-NABIGHAH"></a> +<b>FROM THE DÎWÂN OF AL-NÂBIGHAH</b></p> +<p>A eulogy of the valor and culture of the men of Ghassân, +written in time of the poet's political exile from them: +Translation of C. J. Lyall.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Leave me alone, O Umaimah--alone with my sleepless pain--</p> +<p class="i1">alone with the livelong night and the wearily +lingering stars;</p> +<p>It draws on its length of gloom; methinks it will never end,</p> +<p class="i1">nor ever the Star-herd lead his flock to their folds +of rest;--</p> +<p>Alone with a breast whose griefs, that roamed far afield by +day,</p> +<p class="i1">the darkness has brought all home: in legions they +throng around.</p> +<p>A favor I have with 'Amr, a favor his father bore</p> +<p class="i1">toward me of old; a grace that carried no scorpion +sting.</p> +<p>I swear (and my word is true--an oath that hath no reserve,</p> +<p class="i1">and naught in my heart is hid save fair thought of +him, my friend)--</p> +<p>If these twain his fathers were, who lie in their graves; the +one</p> +<p class="i1">al-Jillik, the others al-Saidâ, by +Hârib's side,</p> +<p>And Hârith, of Jafnah's line, the lord of his folk of +old--</p> +<p class="i1">yea, surely his might shall reach the home of his +enemy!</p> +<p>In him hope is sure of help when men say--"The host is sped,</p> +<p class="i1">the horsemen of Ghassân's line unblemished, no +hireling herd,</p> +<p>His cousins, all near of kin, their chief 'Amr, 'Âmir's +son--</p> +<p class="i1">a people are they whose might in battle shall never +fail!"</p> +<p>When goes forth the host to war, above them in circles wheel</p> +<p class="i1">battalions of eagles, pointing the path to battalions +more;</p> +<p>Their friendship is old and tried, fast comrades, in foray +bred</p> +<p class="i1">to look unafraid on blood, as hounds to the chase +well trained.</p> +<p>Behold them, how they sit there, behind where their armies +meet,</p> +<p class="i1">watching with eyes askance, like elders in gray furs +wrapt,</p> +<p>Intent; for they know full well that those whom they follow, +when</p> +<p class="i1">the clash of the hosts shall come, will bear off the +victory.</p> +<p>Ay, well is that custom known, a usage that time has proved</p> +<p class="i1">when lances are laid in rest on withers of steeds +arow--</p> +<p>Of steeds in the spear-play skilled, with lips for the fight +drawn back,</p> +<p class="i1">their bodies with wounds all scarred, some bleeding +and some half-healed.</p> +<p>And down leap the riders where the battle is strait and +stern,</p> +<p class="i1">and spring in the face of Death like stallions amid +the herd;</p> +<p>Between them they give and take deep draughts of the wine of +doom</p> +<p class="i1">as their hands ply the white swords, thin and keen in +the smiting-edge.</p> +<p>In shards fall the morions burst by the fury of blow on +blow,</p> +<p class="i1">and down to the eyebrows, cleft, fly shattered the +skulls beneath.</p> +<p>In them no defect is found, save only that in their swords</p> +<p class="i1">are notches, a many, gained from smiting of host on +host:</p> +<p>An heirloom of old, those blades, from the fight of +Halîmah's day,</p> +<p class="i1">and many the mellay fierce that since has their +temper proved;</p> +<p>Therewith do they cleave in twain the hauberk of double +woof,</p> +<p class="i1">and kindle the rock beneath to fire, ere the stroke +is done.</p> +<p>A nature is theirs--God gives the like to no other men--</p> +<p class="i1">a wisdom that never sleeps, a bounty that never +fails.</p> +<p>Their home is God's own land, His chosen of old; their faith</p> +<p class="i1">is steadfast. Their hope is set on naught but the +world to come.</p> +<p>Their sandals are soft and fine, and girded with chastity,</p> +<p class="i1">they welcome with garlands sweet the dawn of the +Feast of Palms.</p> +<p>There greets them when they come home full many a handmaid +fine,</p> +<p class="i1">and ready, on trestles, hang the mantles of scarlet +silk.</p> +<p>Yea, softly they wrap their limbs, well-knowing of wealth and +ease,</p> +<p class="i1">in rich raiment, white-sleeved, green at the +shoulder--in royal guise.</p> +<p>They look not on Weal as men who know not that Woe comes, +too:</p> +<p class="i1">they look not on evil days as though they would never +mend.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Lo, this was my gift to Ghassân, what time I +sought</i></p> +<p><i>My people; and all my paths were darkened, and strait my +ways</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="NUSAIB"></a><b>NUSAIB</b></p> +<p>The poem characterizes the separation of a wife and mother--a +slave--from her family: Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>They said last night--To-morrow at first of dawning,</p> +<p class="i1">or maybe at eventide, must Laila go!--</p> +<p>My heart at the word lay helpless, as lies a Katä</p> +<p class="i1">in net night-long, and struggles with fast-bound +wing.</p> +<p>Two nestlings she left alone, in a nest far distant,</p> +<p class="i1">a nest which the winds smite, tossing it to and +fro.</p> +<p>They hear but the whistling breeze, and stretch necks to greet +her;</p> +<p class="i1">but she they await--the end of her days is come!</p> +<p>So lies she, and neither gains in the night her longing,</p> +<p class="i1">nor brings her the morning any release from pain.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="VENGEANCE"></a><b>VENGEANCE</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By al-Find, of the Zimman Tribe: Translation of C.J. Lyall</p> +<br> +<p>Forgiveness had we for Hind's sons:</p> +<p class="i1">We said, "The men our brothers are;</p> +<p>The days may bring that yet again</p> +<p class="i1">They be the folk that once they were."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But when the Ill stood clear and plain,</p> +<p class="i1">And naked Wrong was bold to brave,</p> +<p>And naught was left but bitter Hate--</p> +<p class="i1">We paid them in the coin they gave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We strode as stalks a lion forth</p> +<p class="i1">At dawn, a lion wrathful-eyed;</p> +<p>Blows rained we, dealing shame on shame,</p> +<p class="i1">And humbling pomp and quelling pride.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Too kind a man may be with fools,</p> +<p class="i1">And nerve them but to flout him more;</p> +<p>And Mischief oft may bring thee peace,</p> +<p class="i1">When Mildness works not Folly's cure.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="PATIENCE"></a><b>PATIENCE</b></p> +<blockquote>From Ibrahîm, Son of Kunaif of Nabhan: +Translation of C.J. Lyall<br> +<br> +Be patient: for free-born men to bear is the fairest thing,<br> +And refuge against Time's wrong or help from his hurt is none;<br> +And if it availed man aught to bow him to fluttering Fear,<br> +Or if he could ward off hurt by humbling himself to Ill,<br> +To bear with a valiant front the full brunt of every stroke<br> +And onset of Fate were still the fairest and best of things.<br> +But how much the more, when none outruns by a span his Doom,<br> +And refuge from God's decree nor was nor will ever be,<br> +And sooth, if the changing Days have wrought us--their wonted +way--<br> +A lot mixed of weal and woe, yet one thing they could not do:<br> +They have not made soft or weak the stock of our sturdy spear;<br> +They have not abased our hearts to doing of deeds of shame.<br> +We offer to bear their weight, a handful of noble souls:<br> +Though laden beyond all weight of man, they uplift the load.<br> +So shield we with Patience fair our souls from the stroke of +Shame;<br> +Our honors are whole and sound, though others be lean +enow.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="ABU_SAKHR"></a><b>ABU SAKHR</b></p> +<p>On a lost love. From the 'Hamásah': Translation of C.J. +Lyall</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By him who brings weeping and laughter</p> +<p class="i4">who deals Death and Life as He wills--</p> +<p>she left me to envy the wild deer</p> +<p class="i4">that graze twain and twain without fear!</p> +<p>Oh, love of her, heighten my heart's pain,</p> +<p class="i4">and strengthen the pang every night;</p> +<p>oh, comfort that days bring, forgetting</p> +<p class="i4">--the last of all days be thy tryst!</p> +<p>I marveled how swiftly the time sped</p> +<p class="i4">between us, the moment we met;</p> +<p>but when that brief moment was ended</p> +<p class="i4">how wearily dragged he his feet!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="AN_ADDRESS_TO_THE_BELOVED"></a> <b>AN +ADDRESS TO THE BELOVED</b></p> +<p>By Abu l-'Ata of Sind. From the 'Hamásah': Translation of +C.J. Lyall</p> +<blockquote>Of thee did I dream, while spears between us were +quivering--<br> +and sooth, of our blood full deep had drunken the tawny shafts!<br> +I know not--by Heaven I swear, and here is the word I say!--<br> +this pang, is it love-sickness, or wrought by a spell from +thee?<br> +If it be a spell, then grant me grace of thy love-longing--<br> +if other the sickness be, then none is the guilt of +thine!</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_FORAY"></a><b>A FORAY</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By Ja'far ibn 'Ulbah. From the 'Hamásah': Translation of +C.J. Lyall</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>That even when, under Sábhal's twin peaks, upon us +drave</p> +<p class="i1">the horsemen, troop upon troop, and the foeman +pressed us sore--</p> +<p>They said to us, "Two things lie before you; now must ye +choose</p> +<p class="i1">the points of the spears couched at ye; or if ye will +not, chains!"</p> +<p>We answered them, "Yea this thing may fall to <i>you</i> after +the fight,</p> +<p class="i1">when men shall be left on ground, and none shall +arise again;</p> +<p>But we know not, if we quail before the assault of Death,</p> +<p class="i1">how much may be left of life--the goal is too dim to +see."</p> +<p>We rode to the strait of battle; there cleared us a space, +around</p> +<p class="i1">the white swords in our right hands which the smiths +had furbished fair.</p> +<p>On them fell the edge of my blade, on that day of Sabhal +date;</p> +<p class="i1">And mine was the share thereof, wherever my fingers +closed.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="FATALITY"></a><b>FATALITY</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By Katari, ibn al-Fujâ'ah, ibn Ma'zin. From the +'Hamásah': Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I said to her, when she fled in amaze and breathless</p> +<p class="i1">before the array of battle, "Why dost thou +tremble?</p> +<p>Yea, if but a day of Life thou shouldst beg with weeping,</p> +<p class="i1">beyond what thy Doom appoints, thou wouldst not gain +it!</p> +<p>Be still, then; and face the onset of Death, high-hearted,</p> +<p class="i1">for none upon earth shall win to abide forever.</p> +<p>No raiment of praise the cloak of old age and weakness;</p> +<p class="i1">none such for the coward who bows like a reed in the +tempest.</p> +<p>The pathway of death is set for all men to travel.</p> +<p class="i1">the crier of Death proclaims through the earth his +empire.</p> +<p>Who dies not when young and sound, dies old and weary--</p> +<p class="i1">cut off in his length of days from all love and +kindness;</p> +<p>And what for a man is left of delight of living,--</p> +<p class="i1">past use--flung away--a worthless and worn-out +chattel?"</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name= +"IMPLACABILITY"></a><b>IMPLACABILITY</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>By al-Fadl, ibn al-Abbas, ibn Utbah. From the 'Hamásah': +Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Sons of our uncle, peace! Cousins of ours, be still!</p> +<p class="i1">drag not to light from its grave the strife that we +buried there.</p> +<p>Hope not for honor from us, while ye heap upon us shame,</p> +<p class="i1">or think that we shall forbear from vexing when ye +vex us.</p> +<p>Sons of our uncle, peace! lay not our rancor raw;</p> +<p class="i1">walk now gently awhile, as once ye were wont to +go.</p> +<p>Ay, God knows that we, we love you not, in sooth!</p> +<p class="i1">and that we blame ye not that ye have no love for +us.</p> +<p>Each of us has his ground for the loathing his fellow moves:</p> +<p class="i1">a grace it is from the Lord that we hate ye--ye +us!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="PARENTAL_AFFECTION"></a> <b>PARENTAL +AFFECTION</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A poem by Hittân ibn al-Mu'allà of Tayyi. From the +'Hamásah': Translation of C.J. Lyall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Fortune has brought me down--her wonted way--</p> +<p class="i1">from stature high and great, to low estate;</p> +<p>Fortune has rent away my plenteous store;</p> +<p class="i1">of all my wealth, honor alone is left.</p> +<p>Fortune has turned my joy to tears--how oft</p> +<p class="i1">did Fortune make me laugh with what she gave!</p> +<p>But for these girls, the <i>katá's</i> downy brood,</p> +<p class="i1">unkindly thrust from door to door as hard--</p> +<p>Far would I roam, and wide, to seek my bread,</p> +<p class="i1">in earth, that has no lack of breadth and length.</p> +<p>Nay, but our children in our midst, what else</p> +<p class="i1">but our hearts are they, walking on the ground?</p> +<p>If but the breeze blow harsh on one of them,</p> +<p class="i1">mine eye says "no" to slumber, all night long!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_TRIBESMANS_VALOR"></a> <b>A +TRIBESMAN'S VALOR</b></p> +<blockquote>Poem by Sa'd, son of Malik, of the Kais Tribe: +Translation of C. J. Lyall<br> +<br> +How evil a thing is war, that bows men to shameful rest!<br> +War burns away in her blaze all glory and boasting of men:<br> +Naught stands but the valiant heart to face pain--the hard-hoofed +steed<br> +The ring-mail set close and firm, the nail-crowned helms and the +spears;<br> +And onset, again after rout, when men shrink from the serried +array--<br> +Then, then, fall away all the vile, the hirelings! and shame is +strong!<br> +War girds up her skirts before them, and evil unmixed is bare.<br> +For their hearts were for maidens veiled, not for driving the +gathered<br> + spoil:<br> +Yea, evil the heirs we leave, sons of Yakshar and al-Laksh!<br> +<br> +But let flee her fires who will, no flinching for me, son of +Kais!<br> +O children of Kais! stand firm before her! gain peace or give!<br> +Who seeks flight before her fear, his Doom stands and bars the +road.<br> +Away! Death allows no quitting of place, and brands are bare!<br> +What is life for us, when the uplands and valleys are ours no +more?<br> +Ah, where are the mighty now? the spears and generous +hands?</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_QURAN"></a>FROM THE QU'RAN</h2> +<center>Translation of George Sale</center> +<br> +<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.: INTITLED "THE CREATOR." REVEALED AT MECCA</h3> +<p>In the name of the most merciful GOD. Praise be unto GOD, the +creator of heaven and earth; who maketh the angels <i>his</i> +messengers, furnished with two, and three, and four <i>pair</i> of +wings: GOD maketh what addition he pleaseth unto <i>his</i> +creatures; for GOD <i>is</i> almighty. The mercy which GOD shall +freely bestow on mankind, <i>there is</i> none who can withhold; +and what he shall withhold, <i>there is</i> none who can bestow, +besides him: and he <i>is</i> the mighty, the wise. O men, remember +the favor of GOD towards you: is there any creator, besides GOD, +who provideth food for you from heaven and earth? <i>There is</i> +no GOD but he: how therefore are ye turned aside <i>from +acknowledging his unity?</i> If they accuse thee of imposture, +apostles before thee have also been accused of imposture; and unto +GOD shall <i>all</i> things return. O men, verily the promise of +GOD is true: let not therefore the present life deceive you, +neither let the deceiver deceive you concerning GOD: for Satan +<i>is</i> an enemy unto you; wherefore hold him for an enemy: he +only inviteth his confederates to be the inhabitants of hell. For +those who believe not <i>there is prepared</i> a severe torment: +but for those who shall believe and do that which is right, <i>is +prepared</i> mercy and a great reward. Shall he therefore for whom +his evil work hath been prepared, and who imagineth it to be good, +<i>be as he who is rightly disposed, and discerneth the truth</i>? +Verily GOD will cause to err whom he pleaseth, and will direct whom +he pleaseth. Let not thy soul therefore be spent in sighs for their +sakes, <i>on account of their obstinacy</i>; for GOD well knoweth +that which they do. <i>It is God</i> who sendeth the winds, and +raiseth a cloud: and we drive the same unto a dead country, and +thereby quicken the earth after it hath been dead; so <i>shall</i> +the resurrection <i>be</i>. Whoever desireth excellence; unto GOD +<i>doth</i> all excellence <i>belong</i>: unto him ascendeth the +good speech; and the righteous work will he exalt. But as for them +who devise wicked <i>plots</i>, they shall suffer a severe +punishment; and the device of those <i>men</i> shall be rendered +vain. GOD created you <i>first</i> of the dust, and afterwards of +seed: and he hath made you man and wife. No female conceiveth, or +bringeth forth, but with his knowledge. Nor is any thing added unto +the age of him whose life is prolonged, neither is any thing +diminished from his age, but <i>the same is written</i> in the book +<i>of God's decrees</i>. Verily this is easy with GOD. The two seas +are not to be held in comparison: this <i>is</i> fresh <i>and</i> +sweet, pleasant to drink; but that <i>is</i> salt <i>and</i> +bitter: yet out of each of them ye eat fish, and take ornaments for +you to wear. Thou seest the ships also ploughing <i>the waves</i> +thereof, that ye may seek <i>to enrich yourselves by commerce</i>, +of the abundance <i>of God</i>: peradventure ye will be thankful. +He causeth the night to succeed the day, and he causeth the day to +succeed the night; and he obligeth the sun and the moon to perform +their services: each <i>of them</i> runneth an appointed course. +This is GOD, your LORD: his <i>is</i> the kingdom. But the +<i>idols</i> which ye invoke besides him have not the power even +over the skin of a date-stone: if ye invoke them, they will not +hear your calling; and although they should hear, yet they would +not answer you. On the day of resurrection they shall disclaim your +having associated <i>them with God</i>: and none shall declare unto +thee <i>the truth</i>, like one who is well acquainted +<i>therewith</i>. O men, ye have need of GOD; but GOD is +self-sufficient, and to be praised. If he pleaseth, he can take you +away, and produce a new creature <i>in your stead</i>: neither +<i>will</i> this <i>be</i> difficult with GOD. A burdened +<i>soul</i> shall not bear the burden of another: and if a +heavy-burdened <i>soul</i> call <i>on another</i> to bear part of +its <i>burden</i>, no part thereof shall be borne <i>by the person +who shall be called on</i>, although he be <i>ever so nearly</i> +related. Thou shalt admonish those who fear their LORD in secret, +and are constant at prayer: and whoever cleanseth himself <i>from +the guilt of disobedience</i>, cleanseth himself to <i>the +advantage</i> of his own soul; for all shall be assembled before +GOD <i>at the last day</i>. The blind and the seeing shall not be +held equal; neither darkness and light; nor the cool shade and the +scorching wind: neither shall the living and the dead be held +equal. GOD shall cause him to hear whom he pleaseth: but thou shalt +not make those to hear who are in <i>their</i> graves. Thou +<i>art</i> no other than a preacher; verily we have sent thee with +truth, a bearer of good tidings, and a denouncer of threats.</p> +<p><i>There hath been</i> no nation, but a preacher hath in past +times been <i>conversant</i> among them: if they charge thee with +imposture, they who were before them likewise charged <i>their +apostles</i> with imposture. Their apostles came unto them with +evident <i>miracles</i>, and with <i>divine</i> writings, and with +the Enlightening Book: afterwards I chastised those who were +unbelievers; and how <i>severe</i> was my vengeance! Dost thou not +see that GOD sendeth down rain from heaven, and that we thereby +produce fruits of various colors? In the mountains also <i>there +are</i> some tracts white and red, of various colors; and <i>others +are</i> of a deep black: and of men, and beasts, and cattle +<i>there are</i> whose colors <i>are</i> in like manner various. +Such only of his servants fear GOD as are endued with +understanding: verily GOD <i>is</i> mighty <i>and</i> ready to +forgive. Verily they who read the book of GOD, and are constant at +prayer, and give alms out of what we have bestowed on them, +<i>both</i> in secret and openly, hope for a merchandise which +shall not perish: that <i>God</i> may fully pay them their wages, +and make them a <i>superabundant</i> addition of his liberality; +for he <i>is</i> ready to forgive <i>the faults of his servants, +and</i> to requite <i>their endeavors</i>. That which we have +revealed unto thee of the book <i>of the Korân</i> is the +truth, confirming the <i>scriptures</i> which <i>were revealed</i> +before it: for GOD knoweth <i>and</i> regardeth his servants. And +we have given the book <i>of the Korân</i> in heritage unto +such of our servants as we have chosen: of them <i>there is one</i> +who injureth his own soul; and <i>there is another</i> of them who +keepeth the middle way; and <i>there is another</i> of them who +outstrippeth <i>others</i> in good <i>works</i>, by the permission +of GOD. This is the great excellence. They shall be introduced into +gardens of perpetual abode; they shall be adorned therein with +bracelets of gold, and pearls, and their clothing therein <i>shall +be</i> of silk: and they shall say, Praise be unto GOD, who hath +taken away sorrow from us! verily our LORD <i>is</i> ready to +forgive <i>the sinners</i>, and to reward <i>the obedient</i>: who +hath caused us to take up our rest in a dwelling of <i>eternal</i> +stability, through his bounty, wherein no labor shall touch us, +neither shall any weariness affect us. But for the unbelievers +<i>is prepared</i> the fire of hell: it shall not be decreed them +to die <i>a second time</i>; neither shall <i>any part</i> of the +punishment thereof be made lighter unto them. Thus shall every +infidel be rewarded. And they shall cry out aloud in <i>hell, +saying,</i> LORD, take us hence, and we will work righteousness, +and not what we have <i>formerly</i> wrought. <i>But it shall be +answered them</i>, Did we not grant you lives of length sufficient, +that whoever would be warned might be warned therein; and did not +the preacher come unto you? Taste therefore <i>the pains of +hell</i>. And the unjust shall have no protector. Verily GOD +knoweth the secrets <i>both</i> of heaven and earth, for he knoweth +the innermost parts of the breasts <i>of men</i>. It is he who hath +made you to succeed in the earth. Whoever shall disbelieve, on him +<i>be</i> his unbelief; and their unbelief shall only gain the +unbelievers greater indignation in the sight of their LORD; and +their unbelief shall only increase the perdition of the +unbelievers. Say, what think ye of your deities which ye invoke +besides GOD? Show me what <i>part</i> of the earth they have +created. Or had they any share in <i>the creation of</i> the +heavens? Have we given unto <i>the idolaters</i> any book <i>of +revelations</i>, so that they <i>may rely</i> on any proof +therefrom <i>to authorize their practice?</i> Nay; but the ungodly +make unto one another only deceitful promises. Verily GOD +sustaineth the heavens and the earth, lest they fail: and if they +should fail, none could support the same besides him; he is +gracious <i>and</i> merciful. <i>The Koreish</i> swore by GOD, with +a most solemn oath, that if a preacher had come unto them, they +would surely have been more <i>willingly</i> directed than any +nation: but now a preacher is come unto them, it hath only +increased in them <i>their</i> aversion <i>from the truth, +their</i> arrogance in the earth, and <i>their</i> contriving of +evil; but the contrivance of evil shall only encompass the authors +thereof. Do they expect any other than the punishment awarded +against the <i>unbelievers</i> of former times? For thou shalt not +find any change in the ordinance of GOD; neither shalt thou find +any variation in the ordinance of GOD. Have they not gone through +the earth, and seen what hath been the end of those who were before +them; although they were more mighty in strength than they? GOD is +not to be frustrated by anything either in heaven or on earth; for +he is wise <i>and</i> powerful. If GOD should punish men according +to what they deserve, he would not leave on the back of <i>the +earth</i> so much as a beast; but he respiteth them to a determined +time; and when their time shall come, verily GOD will regard his +servants.</p> +<br> +<h3><a name= +"CHAPTER_LV_INTITLED_THE_MERCIFUL_REVEALED_AT_MECCA"> +</a>CHAPTER LV.: INTITLED "THE MERCIFUL." REVEALED AT MECCA</h3> +<p>In the name of the most merciful GOD. The Merciful hath taught +<i>his servant</i> the Korân. He created man: he hath taught +him distinct speech. The sun and the moon <i>run their courses</i> +according to a certain rule: and the vegetables which creep on the +ground, and the trees submit <i>to his disposition</i>. He also +raised the heaven; and he appointed the balance, that ye should not +transgress in respect to the balance: wherefore observe a just +weight; and diminish not the balance. And the earth hath he +prepared for living creatures: therein <i>are various</i> fruits, +and palm-trees bearing sheaths of flowers; and grain having chaff, +and leaves. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye +ungratefully deny? He created man of dried clay like an earthen +vessel: but he created the genii of fire clear from smoke. Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? <i>He +is</i> the LORD of the east, and the LORD of the west. Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? He +hath let loose the two seas, that they meet each another: between +them <i>is placed</i> a bar which they cannot pass. Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? From +them are taken forth unions and lesser pearls. Which, therefore, of +your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? His also <i>are</i> +the ships, carrying their sails aloft in the sea like mountains. +Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully +deny? Every <i>creature</i> which <i>liveth</i> on <i>the earth +is</i> subject to decay: but the glorious and honorable countenance +of thy LORD shall remain <i>for ever</i>. Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? Unto him do all +<i>creatures</i> which <i>are</i> in heaven and earth make +petition; every day <i>is</i> he <i>employed</i> in <i>some new</i> +work. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye +ungratefully deny? We will surely attend to <i>judge</i> you, O men +and genii, <i>at the last day</i>. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S +benefits will ye ungratefully deny? O ye collective body of genii +and men, if ye be able to pass out of the confines of heaven and +earth, pass forth: ye shall not pass forth but by absolute power. +Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully +deny? A flame of fire without smoke, and a smoke without flame +shall be sent down upon you; and ye shall not be able to defend +yourselves <i>therefrom</i>. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S +benefits will ye ungratefully deny? And when the heaven shall be +rent in sunder, and shall become <i>red as</i> a rose, <i>and shall +melt</i> like ointment: (Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits +will ye ungratefully deny?) On that day neither man nor genius +shall be asked concerning his sin. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S +benefits will ye ungratefully deny? The wicked shall be known by +their marks; and they shall be taken by the forelocks, and the +feet, <i>and shall be cast into hell</i>. Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? This <i>is</i> hell +which the wicked deny as a falsehood: they shall pass to and fro +between the same and hot boiling water. Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? But for him who dreadeth +the tribunal of his LORD <i>are prepared</i> two gardens: (Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny?) In +each of them <i>shall be</i> two fountains flowing. Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? In +each of them <i>shall there be</i> of every fruit two kinds. Which, +therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? They +shall repose on couches, the linings whereof <i>shall be</i> of +thick silk interwoven with gold; and the fruit of the two gardens +<i>shall be</i> near at hand <i>to gather</i>. Which, therefore, of +your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? Therein <i>shall +receive them beauteous damsels</i>, refraining their eyes <i>from +beholding any besides their spouses</i>: whom no man shall have +deflowered before them, neither any Jinn: (Which, therefore, of +your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny?) <i>Having +complexions</i> like rubies and pearls. Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? <i>Shall</i> the reward +of good works <i>be</i> any other good? Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? And besides these there +<i>shall be</i> two <i>other</i> gardens: (Which, therefore, of +your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny?) Of a dark green. +Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully +deny? In each of them <i>shall be</i> two fountains pouring forth +plenty of water. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye +ungratefully deny? In each of them <i>shall be</i> fruits, and +palm-trees, and pomegranates. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S +benefits will ye ungratefully deny? Therein <i>shall be</i> +agreeable and beauteous <i>damsels</i>: Which, therefore, of your +LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully deny? Whom no man shall have +deflowered before <i>their destined spouses</i>, nor any Jinn. +Which, therefore, of your LORD'S benefits will ye ungratefully +deny? <i>Therein shall they delight themselves</i>, lying on green +cushions and beautiful carpets. Which, therefore, of your LORD'S +benefits will ye ungratefully deny? Blessed be the name of thy +LORD, possessed of glory and honor!</p> +<br> +<h3>CHAPTER LXXXIV.: INTITLED "<a name= +"THE_RENDING_IN_SUNDER"></a>THE RENDING IN SUNDER." REVEALED AT +MECCA</h3> +<p>In the name of the most merciful GOD. When the heaven shall be +rent in sunder, and shall obey its LORD, and shall be capable +<i>thereof</i>; and when the earth shall be stretched out, and +shall cast forth that which <i>is</i> therein, and shall remain +empty, and shall obey its LORD, and shall be capable +<i>thereof</i>: O man, verily laboring thou laborest to <i>meet</i> +thy LORD, and thou shalt meet him. And he who shall have his book +given into his right hand shall be called to an easy account, and +shall turn unto his family with joy: but he who shall have his book +given him behind his back shall invoke destruction <i>to fall upon +him</i>, and he shall be sent into hell to be burned; because he +rejoiced insolently amidst his family <i>on earth</i>. Verily he +thought he should never return <i>unto God</i>: yea verily, but his +LORD beheld him. Wherefore I swear by the redness of the sky after +sunset, and by the night, and the <i>animals</i> which it driveth +together, and by the moon when she is in the full; ye shall surely +be transferred <i>successively</i> from state to state. What +<i>aileth</i> them, therefore, that they believe not <i>the +resurrection</i>; and that, when the Korân is read unto them, +they worship not? Yea: the unbelievers accuse <i>the same</i> of +imposture: but GOD well knoweth the <i>malice</i> which they keep +hidden <i>in their breasts</i>. Wherefore denounce unto them a +grievous punishment, except those who believe and do good works: +for them <i>is prepared</i> a never-failing reward.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_PRAYER_OF_AL-HARIRI"></a> <b>THE +PRAYER OF AL-HARIRI</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From the 'Makamat' of al-Hariri of Basra: Translation of +Theodore Preston</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>We praise thee, O God,</p> +<p class="i1">For whatever perspicuity of language thou hast taught +us,</p> +<p class="i1">And whatever eloquence thou hast inspired us +with,</p> +<p class="i5">As we praise thee</p> +<p class="i1">For the bounty which thou hast diffused,</p> +<p>And the mercy which thou hast spread abroad:</p> +<p class="i5">And we pray thee to guard us</p> +<p>From extravagant expressions and frivolous superfluities</p> +<p class="i5">As we pray Thee to guard us</p> +<p>From the shame of incapacity and the disgrace of hesitation:</p> +<p class="i1">And we entreat thee to exempt us from temptation</p> +<p>By the flattery of the admirer or connivance of the +indulgent,</p> +<p class="i1">As we entreat thee to exempt us from exposure</p> +<p>To the slight of the detractor or aspersion of the defamer:</p> +<p class="i5">And we ask thy forgiveness</p> +<p>Should our frailties betray us into ambiguities,</p> +<p class="i5">As we ask thy forgiveness</p> +<p>Should our steps advance to the verge of improprieties:</p> +<p class="i3">And we beg thee freely to bestow</p> +<p class="i3">Propitious succor to lead us aright,</p> +<p class="i3">And a heart turning in unison with truth,</p> +<p class="i3">And a language adorned with veracity,</p> +<p class="i3">And style supported by conclusiveness,</p> +<p class="i1">And accuracy that may exclude incorrectness,</p> +<p class="i1">And firmness of purpose that may overcome +caprice,</p> +<p class="i1">And sagacity whereby we may attain +discrimination;</p> +<p>That thou wilt aid us by thy guidance unto right +conceptions,</p> +<p>And enable us with thy help to express them with clearness,</p> +<p class="i1">And thou wilt guard us from error in narration,</p> +<p class="i2">And keep us from folly even in pleasantry,</p> +<p>So that we may be safe from the censure of sarcastic +tongues,</p> +<p class="i1">And secure from the fatal effects of false +ornament,</p> +<p class="i3">And may not resort to any improper source,</p> +<p class="i1">And occupy no position that would entail regret,</p> +<p class="i1">Nor be assailed by any ill consequences or blame,</p> +<p class="i1">Nor be constrained to apology for +inconsideration.</p> +<p class="i5">O God, fulfill for us this our desire,</p> +<p class="i1">And put us in possession of this our earnest +wish,</p> +<p class="i1">And exclude us not from thy ample shade,</p> +<p class="i1">Nor leave us to become the prey of the devourer:</p> +<p class="i2">For we stretch to thee the hand of entreaty,</p> +<p>And profess entire submission to thee, and contrition of +spirit,</p> +<p>And seek with humble supplication and appliances of hope</p> +<p>The descent of thy vast grace and comprehensive bounty.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_WORDS_OF_HARETH_IBN-HAMMAM"></a> +<b>THE WORDS OF HARETH IBN-HAMMAM</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From the 'Makamat' of al-Hariri of Barra: Translation of +Theodore Preston</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>On a night whose aspect displayed both light and shade,</p> +<p>And whose moon was like a magic circlet of silver,</p> +<p>I was engaged in evening conversation at Koufa</p> +<p>With companions who had been nourished on the milk of +eloquence,</p> +<p>So the charms of conversation fascinated us,</p> +<p>While wakefulness still prevailed among us,</p> +<p>Until the moon had at length disappeared in the West.</p> +<p>But when the gloom of night had thus drawn its curtain,</p> +<p>And nothing but slumber remained abroad,</p> +<p>We heard from the door the low call of a benighted traveler,</p> +<p>And then followed the knock of one seeking admission;</p> +<p>And we answered, "Who comes here this darksome night?"</p> +<p>And the stranger replied:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">"Listen ye who here are dwelling!</p> +<p class="i6">May you so be kept from ill!</p> +<p class="i5">So may mischief ne'er befall you,</p> +<p class="i6">Long as life your breast shall fill!</p> +<p class="i5">Gloom of dismal night and dreary</p> +<p class="i6">Drives a wretch to seek your door,</p> +<p class="i5">Whose disheveled hoary tresses</p> +<p class="i6">All with dust are sprinkled o'er;</p> +<p class="i5">Who, though destitute and lonely,</p> +<p class="i6">Far has roamed on hill and dale,</p> +<p class="i5">Till his form became thus crooked,</p> +<p class="i6">And his cheek thus deadly pale;</p> +<p class="i5">Who, though faint as slender crescent,</p> +<p class="i6">Ventures here for aid to sue,</p> +<p class="i5">Hospitable meal and shelter</p> +<p class="i6">Claiming first of all from you.</p> +<p class="i5">Welcome then to food and dwelling</p> +<p class="i6">One so worthy both to share,</p> +<p class="i5">Sure to prove content and thankful,</p> +<p class="i6">Sure to laud your friendly care."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Fascinated then by the sweetness of his language and +delivery,</p> +<p>And readily inferring what this prelude betokened,</p> +<p>We hasted to open the door, and received him with welcome,</p> +<p>Saying to the servant, "Hie! Hie! Bring whatever is ready!"</p> +<p>But the stranger said, "By Him who brought me to your abode,</p> +<p>I will not taste of your hospitality, unless you pledge to +me</p> +<p>That you will not permit me to be an incumbrance to you,</p> +<p>Nor impose on yourselves necessity of eating on my account."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Now it was just as if he had been informed of our wishes,</p> +<p>Or had shot from the same bow as our sentiments;</p> +<p>So we gratified him by acceding to the condition,</p> +<p>And highly commended him for his accommodating disposition.</p> +<p>But when the servant had produced what was ready,</p> +<p>And the candle was lighted up in the midst of us,</p> +<p>I regarded him attentively, and lo! it was Abu-Zeid;</p> +<p>Whereupon I addressed my companions in these words:--</p> +<p>"May you have joy of the guest who has repaired to you:</p> +<p class="i2">For though the moon of the heavens has set,</p> +<p class="i2">The full moon of poetry has arisen;</p> +<p class="i2">And though the moon of the eclipse has +disappeared,</p> +<p class="i2">The full moon of eloquence has shone forth."</p> +<p class="i2">So the wine of joy infused itself into them,</p> +<p class="i2">And sleep flew away from the corners of their +eyes,</p> +<p>And they rejected the slumber which they had contemplated,</p> +<p>And began to resume the pleasantry which they had laid +aside,</p> +<p>While Abu-Zeid remained intent on the business in hand.</p> +<p>But as soon as he desired the removal of what was before +him,</p> +<p>I said to him, "Entertain us with one of thy strange +anecdotes,</p> +<p>Or with an account of one of thy wonderful journeys."</p> +<p>And he said:--"The result of long journeys brought me to this +land,</p> +<p>Myself being in a state of hunger and distress,</p> +<p>And my wallet light as the heart of the mother of Moses;</p> +<p>So I arose, when dark night had settled on the world,</p> +<p>Though with weary feet, to seek a lodging, or obtain a loaf;</p> +<p>Till, being driven on by the instigation of hunger,</p> +<p>And by fate, so justly called 'the parent of adventures,'</p> +<p>I stood at the door of a house and improvised these words:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">"'Inmates of this abode, all hail! all hail!</p> +<p class="i3">Long may you live in plenty's verdant vale.</p> +<p class="i3">Oh, grant your aid to one by toil opprest,</p> +<p class="i3">Way-worn, benighted, destitute, distrest;</p> +<p class="i3">Whose tortured entrails only hunger hold</p> +<p class="i3">(For since he tasted food two days are told);</p> +<p class="i3">A wretch who finds not where to lay his head,</p> +<p class="i3">Though brooding night her weary wing hath spread,</p> +<p class="i3">But roams in anxious hope a friend to meet,</p> +<p class="i3">Whose bounty, like a spring of water sweet,</p> +<p class="i3">May heal his woes; a friend who straight will +say,</p> +<p class="i3">"Come in! 'Tis time thy staff aside to lay."'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"But there came out to me a boy in a short tunic, who +said:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">"'By Him who hospitable rites ordained,</p> +<p class="i3">And first of all, and best, those rites +maintained,</p> +<p class="i3">I swear that friendly converse and a home</p> +<p class="i3">Is all we have for those who nightly roam."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"And I replied, 'What can I do with an empty house,</p> +<p>And a host who is himself thus utterly destitute?</p> +<p>But what is thy name, boy? for thy intelligence charms me.'</p> +<p>He replied, 'My name is Zeid, and I was reared at Faid;</p> +<p>And my mother Barrah (who is such as her name implies),</p> +<p>Told me she married one of the nobles of Serong and +Ghassân,</p> +<p>Who deserted her stealthily, and there was an end of him.'</p> +<p>Now I knew by these distinct signs that he was my child,</p> +<p>But my poverty deterred me from discovering myself to him."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then we asked if he wished to take his son to live with him;</p> +<p>And he replied, "If only my purse were heavy enough,</p> +<p>It would be easy for me to undertake the charge of him."</p> +<p>So we severally undertook to contribute a portion of it,</p> +<p>Whereupon he returned thanks for this our bounty,</p> +<p>And was so profusely lavish in his acknowledgments,</p> +<p>That we thought his expression of gratitude excessive.</p> +<p>And as soon as he had collected the coin into his scrip,</p> +<p>He looked at me as the deceiver looks at the deceived,</p> +<p>And laughed heartily, and then indited these lines:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"O thou who, deceived</p> +<p class="i6">By a tale, hast believed</p> +<p class="i4">A mirage to be truly a lake,</p> +<p class="i6">Though I ne'er had expected</p> +<p class="i6">My fraud undetected,</p> +<p class="i4">Or doubtful my meaning to make!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">I confess that I lied</p> +<p class="i6">When I said that my bride</p> +<p class="i4">And my first-born were Barrah and Zeid;</p> +<p class="i6">But guile is my part,</p> +<p class="i6">And deception my art,</p> +<p class="i4">And by these are my gains ever made.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Such schemes I devise</p> +<p class="i6">That the cunning and wise</p> +<p class="i4">Never practiced the like or conceived;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor Asmai nor Komait</p> +<p class="i6">Any wonders relate</p> +<p class="i4">Like those that my wiles have achieved.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But if these I disdain,</p> +<p class="i6">I abandon my gain,</p> +<p class="i4">And by fortune at once am refused:</p> +<p class="i6">Then pardon their use,</p> +<p class="i6">And accept my excuse,</p> +<p class="i4">Nor of guilt let my guile be accused."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then he took leave of me, and went away from me,</p> +<p>Leaving in my heart the embers of lasting regret.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_CALIPH_OMAR_BIN_ABD_AL-AZIZ_AND_THE_POETS"></a>THE +CALIPH OMAR BIN ABD AL-AZIZ AND THE POETS</h2> +<p>A Semi-Poetical Tale: Translation of Sir Richard Burton, in +'Supplemental Nights to the Book of The Thousand Nights and A +Night'</p> +<p>It is said that when the Caliphate devolved on Omar bin Abd +al-Aziz, (of whom Allah accept!) the poets resorted to him, as they +had been used to resort to the Caliphs before him, and abode at his +door days and days; but he suffered them not to enter till there +came to him 'Adi bin Artah, who stood high in esteem with him. +Jarir [another poet] accosted him, and begged him to crave +admission for them to the presence; so 'Adi answered, "'Tis well," +and going in to Omar, said to him, "The poets are at thy door, and +have been there days and days; yet hast thou not given them leave +to enter, albeit their sayings abide, and their arrows from the +mark never fly wide." Quoth Omar, "What have I to do with the +poets?" And quoth 'Adi, "O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet +(<i>Abhak!</i>) was praised by a poet, and gave him largesse--and +in him is an exemplar to every Moslem." Quoth Omar, "And who +praised him?" And quoth 'Adi, "Abbás bin Mirdás +praised him, and he clad him with a suit and said, 'O Generosity! +Cut off from me his tongue!'" Asked the Caliph, "Dost thou remember +what he said?" And 'Adi answered, "Yes." Rejoined Omar, "Then +repeat it;" so 'Adi repeated:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"I saw thee, O thou best of the human race,</p> +<p class="i5">Bring out a book which brought to graceless, +grace.</p> +<p>Thou showedst righteous road to men astray</p> +<p class="i5">From right, when darkest wrong had ta'en its +place:--</p> +<p>Thou with Islâm didst light the gloomiest way,</p> +<p class="i5">Quenching with proof live coals of frowardness:</p> +<p>I own for Prophet, my Mohammed's self,</p> +<p class="i5">and men's award upon his word we base.</p> +<p>Thou madest straight the path that crooked ran</p> +<p class="i5">Where in old days foul growth o'ergrew its face.</p> +<p>Exalt be thou in Joy's empyrean!</p> +<p class="i5">And Allah's glory ever grow apace!"</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>"And indeed," continued 'Adi, "this Elegy on the Prophet +(<i>Abhak!</i>) is well known, and to comment on it would be +tedious."</p> +<p>Quoth Omar, "Who [of the poets] is at the door?" And quoth 'Adi, +"Among them is Omar ibn Rabí'ah, the Korashi;" whereupon the +Caliph cried, "May Allah show him no favor, neither quicken him! +Was it not he who spoke impiously [in praising his love]?--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Could I in my clay-bed [the grave] with Ialma repose,</p> +<p class="i5">There to me were better than Heaven or Hell!'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Had he not [continued the Caliph] been the enemy of Allah, he +had wished for her in this world; so that he might, after, repent +and return to righteous dealing. By Allah! he shall not come in to +me! Who is at the door other than he?"</p> +<p>Quoth 'Adi, "Jamil bin Ma'mar al-Uzri is at the door." And quoth +Omar, "'Tis he who saith in one of his love-Elegies:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Would Heaven, conjoint we lived! and if I die,</p> +<p class="i5">Death only grant me a grave within her grave!</p> +<p>For I'd no longer deign to live my life</p> +<p class="i5">If told, "Upon her head is laid the pave."'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Quoth Omar, "Away with him from me! Who is at the door?" And +quoth 'Adi, "Kutthayir 'Azzah": whereupon Omar cried, "'Tis he who +saith in one of his [impious] Odes:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Some talk of faith and creed and nothing else,</p> +<p class="i5">And wait for pains of Hell in prayer-seat;</p> +<p>But did they hear what I from Azzah heard,</p> +<p class="i5">They'd make prostration, fearful, at her feet.'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Leave the mention of <i>him</i>. Who is at the door?" Quoth +'Adi, "Al-Ahwas al-Ansari." Cried Omar, "Allah Almighty put him +away, and estrange him from His mercy! Is it not he who said, +berhyming on a Medinite's slave girl, so that she might outlive her +master:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Allah be judge betwixt me and her lord</p> +<p class="i5">Whoever flies with her--and I pursue.'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>He shall not come in to me! Who is at the door other than he?" +'Adi replied, "Hammam bin Ghalib al-Farazdak." And Omar said, "Tis +he who glories in wickedness.... He shall not come in to me! Who is +at the door other than he?" 'Adi replied, "Al-Akhtal al-Taghlibi." +And Omar said, "He is the [godless] miscreant who saith in his +singing:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Ramazan I ne'er fasted in lifetime; nay</p> +<p class="i5">I ate flesh in public at undurn day!</p> +<p>Nor chid I the fair, save in word of love.</p> +<p class="i5">Nor seek Meccah's plain in salvation-way:</p> +<p>Nor stand I praying, like rest, who cry,</p> +<p class="i5">"Hie salvation-wards!" at the dawn's first +ray....'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>By Allah! he treadeth no carpet of mine. Who is at the door +other than he?" Said 'Adi, "Jarir Ibn al-Khatafah." And Omar cried, +"Tis he who saith:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'But for ill-spying glances, had our eyes espied</p> +<p class="i5">Eyes of the antelope, and ringlets of the Reems!</p> +<p>A Huntress of the eyes, by night-time came; and I</p> +<p class="i5">cried, "Turn in peace! No time for visit this, +meseems."'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>But if it must be, and no help, admit Jarir." So 'Adi went forth +and admitted Jarir, who entered saying:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Yea, He who sent Mohammed unto men.</p> +<p class="i5">A just successor of Islam assigned.</p> +<p>His ruth and his justice all mankind embrace.</p> +<p class="i5">To daunt the bad and stablish well-designed.</p> +<p>Verily now, I look to present good,</p> +<p class="i5">for man hath ever transient weal in mind.'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Quoth Omar, "O Jarir! keep the fear of Allah before thine eyes, +and say naught save the sooth." And Jarir recited these +couplets:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'How many widows loose the hair, in far Yamamah land,</p> +<p class="i1">How many an orphan there abides, feeble of voice and +eye,</p> +<p>Since faredst thou, who wast to them instead of father lost</p> +<p class="i1">when they like nestled fledglings were, sans power to +creep or fly.</p> +<p>And now we hope--since broke the clouds their word and troth +with us--</p> +<p class="i1">Hope from the Caliph's grace to gain a rain that +ne'er shall dry.'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>When the Caliph heard this, he said, "By Allah, O Jarir! Omar +possesseth but an hundred dirhams. Ho boy! do thou give them to +him!" Moreover, he gifted Jarir with the ornaments of his sword; +and Jarir went forth to the other poets, who asked him, "What is +behind thee?" ["What is thy news?"] and he answered, "A man who +giveth to the poor, and who denieth the poets; and with him I am +well pleased."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="DOMINIQUE_FRANCOIS_ARAGO"></a>DOMINIQUE +FRANÇOIS ARAGO</h2> +<h3>(1786-1853)</h3> +<h3>BY EDWARD S. HOLDEN</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-d.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>ominique François Arago was born February 26th, 1786, +near Perpignan, in the Eastern Pyrenees, where his father held the +position of Treasurer of the Mint. He entered the École +Polytechnique in Paris after a brilliant examination, and held the +first places throughout the course. In 1806 he was sent to Valencia +in Spain, and to the neighboring island of Iviza, to make the +astronomical observations for prolonging the arc of the meridian +from Dunkirk southward, in order to supply the basis for the metric +system.</p> +<a name="illus0704.jpg"></a><br> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0704.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>Here begin his extraordinary adventures, which are told with +inimitable spirit and vigor in his 'Autobiography.' Arago's work +required him to occupy stations on the summits of the highest peaks +in the mountains of southeastern Spain. The peasants were densely +ignorant and hostile to all foreigners, so that an escort of troops +was required in many of his journeys. At some stations he made +friends of the bandits of the neighborhood, and carried on his +observations under their protection, as it were. In 1807 the +tribunal of the Inquisition existed in Valencia; and Arago was +witness to the trial and punishment of a pretended sorceress,--and +this, as he says, in one of the principal towns of Spain, the seat +of a celebrated university. Yet the worst criminals lived +unmolested in the cathedrals, for the "right of asylum" was still +in force. His geodetic observations were mysteries to the +inhabitants, and his signals on the mountain top were believed to +be part of the work of a French spy. Just at this time hostilities +broke out between France and Spain, and the astronomer was obliged +to flee disguised as a Majorcan peasant, carrying his precious +papers with him. His knowledge of the Majorcan language saved him, +and he reached a Spanish prison with only a slight wound from a +dagger. It is the first recorded instance, he says, of a fugitive +flying to a dungeon for safety. In this prison, under the care of +Spanish officers, Arago found sufficient occupation in calculating +observations which he had made; in reading the accounts in the +Spanish journals of his own execution at Valencia; and in listening +to rumors that it was proposed (by a Spanish monk) to do away with +the French prisoner by poisoning his food.</p> +<p>The Spanish officer in charge of the prisoners was induced to +connive at the escape of Arago and M. Berthémie (an +aide-de-camp of Napoleon); and on the 28th of July, 1808, they +stole away from the coast of Spain in a small boat with three +sailors, and arrived at Algiers on the 3d of August. Here the +French consul procured them two false passports, which transformed +the Frenchmen into strolling merchants from Schwekat and Leoben. +They boarded an Algerian vessel and set off. Let Arago describe the +crew and cargo:--</p> +<p>"The vessel belonged to the Emir of Seca. The commander was a +Greek captain named Spiro Calligero. Among the passengers were five +members of the family superseded by the Bakri as kings of the Jews; +two Maroccan ostrich-feather merchants; Captain Krog from Bergen in +Norway; two lions sent by the Dey of Algiers as presents to the +Emperor Napoleon; and a great number of monkeys."</p> +<p>As they entered the Golfe du Lion their ship was captured by a +Spanish corsair and taken to Rosas. Worst of all, a former Spanish +servant of Arago's--Pablo--was a sailor in the corsair's crew! At +Rosas the prisoners were brought before an officer for +interrogation. It was now Arago's turn. The officer begins:--</p> +<p>"'Who are you?'</p> +<p>"'A poor traveling merchant.'</p> +<p>"'From whence do you come?'</p> +<p>"'From a country where you certainly have never been.'</p> +<p>"'Well--from what country?'</p> +<p>"I feared to answer; for the passports (steeped in vinegar to +prevent infection) were in the officer's hands, and I had entirely +forgotten whether I was from Schwekat or from Leoben. Finally I +answered at a chance, 'I am from Schwekat;' fortunately this answer +agreed with the passport.</p> +<p>"'You're from Schwekat about as much as I am,' said the officer: +'you're a Spaniard, and a Spaniard from Valencia to boot, as I can +tell by your accent.'</p> +<p>"'Sir, you are inclined to punish me simply because I have by +nature the gift of languages. I readily learn the dialects of the +various countries where I carry on my trade. For example, I know +the dialect of Iviza.'</p> +<p>"'Well, I will take you at your word. Here is a soldier who +comes from Iviza. Talk to him.'</p> +<p>"'Very well; I will even sing the goat-song.'</p> +<p>"The verses of this song (if one may call them verses) are +separated by the imitated bleatings of the goat. I began at once, +with an audacity which even now astonishes me, to intone the song +which all the shepherds in Iviza sing:--</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Ah graciada Señora,</p> +<p class="i5">Una canzo bouil canta,</p> +<p class="i6">Bè bè bè bè.</p> +<p class="i5">No sera gaiva pulida,</p> +<p class="i5">Nosé si vos agradara,</p> +<p class="i6">Bè bè bè bè.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>"Upon which my Ivizan avouches, in tears, that I am certainly +from Iviza. The song had affected him as a Switzer is affected by +the 'Ranz des Vaches.' I then said to the officer that if he would +bring to me a person who could speak French, he would find the same +embarrassment in this case also. An emigré of the Bourbon +regiment comes forward for the new experiment, and after a few +phrases affirms without hesitation that I am surely a Frenchman. +The officer begins to be impatient.</p> +<p>"'Have done with these trials: they prove nothing. I require you +to tell me who you are.'</p> +<p>"'My foremost desire is to find an answer which will satisfy +you. I am the son of the innkeeper at Mataro.'</p> +<p>"'I know that man: you are not his son.'</p> +<p>"'You are right: I told you that I should change my answers till +I found one to suit you. I am a marionette player from Lerida.'</p> +<p>"A huge laugh from the crowd which had listened to the +interrogatory put an end to the questioning."</p> +<p>Finally it was necessary for Arago to declare outright that he +was French, and to prove it by his old servant Pablo. To supply his +immediate wants he sold his watch; and by a series of misadventures +this watch subsequently fell into the hands of his family, and he +was mourned in France as dead.</p> +<p>After months of captivity the vessel was released, and the +prisoner set out for Marseilles. A fearful tempest drove them to +the harbor of Bougie, an African port a hundred miles east of +Algiers. Thence they made the perilous journey by land to their +place of starting, and finally reached Marseilles eleven months +after their voyage began. Eleven months to make a journey of four +days!</p> +<p>The intelligence of the safe arrival, after so many perils, of +the young astronomer, with his packet of precious observations, +soon reached Paris. He was welcomed with effusion. Soon afterward +(at the age of twenty-three years) he was elected a member of the +section of Astronomy of the Academy of Sciences, and from this time +forth he led the peaceful life of a savant. He was the Director of +the Paris Observatory for many years; the friend of all European +scientists; the ardent patron of young men of talent; a leading +physicist; a strong Republican, though the friend of Napoleon; and +finally the Perpetual Secretary of the Academy.</p> +<p>In the latter capacity it was part of his duty to prepare +<i>éloges</i> of deceased Academicians. Of his collected +works in fourteen volumes, 'Oeuvres de François Arago,' +published in Paris, 1865, three volumes are given to these 'Notices +Biographiques.' Here may be found the biographies of Bailly, Sir +William Herschel, Laplace, Joseph Fourier, Carnot, Malus, Fresnel, +Thomas Young, and James Watt; which, translated rather carelessly +into English, have been published under the title 'Biographies of +Distinguished Men,' and can be found in the larger libraries. The +collected works contain biographies also of Ampère, +Condoreet, Volta, Monge, Porson, Gay-Lussac, besides shorter +sketches. They are masterpieces of style and of clear scientific +exposition, and full of generous appreciation of others' work. They +present in a lucid and popular form the achievements of scientific +men whose works have changed the accepted opinion of the world, and +they give general views not found in the original writings +themselves. Scientific men are usually too much engrossed in +advancing science to spare time for expounding it to popular +audiences. The talent for such exposition is itself a special one. +Arago possessed it to the full, and his own original contributions +to astronomy and physics enabled him to speak as an expert, not +merely as an expositor.</p> +<p>The extracts are from his admirable estimate of Laplace, which +he prepared in connection with the proposal, before him and other +members of a State Committee, to publish a new and authoritative +edition of the great astronomer's works. The translation is mainly +that of the 'Biographies of Distinguished Men' cited above, and +much of the felicity of style is necessarily lost in translation; +but the substance of solid and lucid exposition from a master's +hand remains.</p> +<p>Arago was a Deputy in 1830, and Minister of War in the +Provisional Government of 1848. He died full of honors, October 2d, +1853. Two of his brothers, Jacques and Étienne, were +dramatic authors of note. Another, Jean, was a distinguished +general in the service of Mexico. One of his sons, Alfred, is +favorably known as a painter; another, Emmanuel, as a lawyer, +deputy, and diplomat.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-245.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LAPLACE"></a>LAPLACE</h2> +<p>The Marquis de Laplace, peer of France, one of the forty of the +French Academy, member of the Academy of Sciences and of the Bureau +of Longitude, Associate of all the great Academies or Scientific +Societies of Europe, was born at Beaumont-en-Auge, of parents +belonging to the class of small farmers, on the 28th of March, +1749; he died on the 5th of March, 1827. The first and second +volumes of the 'Mécanique Céleste' [Mechanism of the +Heavens] were published in 1799; the third volume appeared in 1802, +the fourth in 1805; part of the fifth volume was published in 1823, +further books in 1824, and the remainder in 1825. The +'Théorie des Probabilités' was published in 1812. We +shall now present the history of the principal astronomical +discoveries contained in these immortal works.</p> +<p>Astronomy is the science of which the human mind may justly feel +proudest. It owes this pre-eminence to the elevated nature of its +object; to the enormous scale of its operations; to the certainty, +the utility, and the stupendousness of its results. From the very +beginnings of civilization the study of the heavenly bodies and +their movements has attracted the attention of governments and +peoples. The greatest captains, statesmen, philosophers, and +orators of Greece and Rome found it a subject of delight. Yet +astronomy worthy of the name is a modern science: it dates from the +sixteenth century only. Three great, three brilliant phases have +marked its progress. In 1543 the bold and firm hand of Copernicus +overthrew the greater part of the venerable scaffolding which had +propped the illusions and the pride of many generations. The earth +ceased to be the centre, the pivot, of celestial movements. +Henceforward it ranged itself modestly among the other planets, its +relative importance as one member of the solar system reduced +almost to that of a grain of sand.</p> +<p>Twenty-eight years had elapsed from the day when the Canon of +Thorn expired while holding in his trembling hands the first copy +of the work which was to glorify the name of Poland, when +Würtemberg witnessed the birth of a man who was destined to +achieve a revolution in science not less fertile in consequences, +and still more difficult to accomplish. This man was Kepler. +Endowed with two qualities which seem incompatible,--a volcanic +imagination, and a dogged pertinacity which the most tedious +calculations could not tire,--Kepler conjectured that celestial +movements must be connected with each other by simple laws; or, to +use his own expression, by harmonic laws. These laws he undertook +to discover. A thousand fruitless attempts--the errors of +calculation inseparable from a colossal undertaking--did not hinder +his resolute advance toward the goal his imagination descried. +Twenty-two years he devoted to it, and still he was not weary. What +are twenty-two years of labor to him who is about to become the +lawgiver of worlds; whose name is to be ineffaceably inscribed on +the frontispiece of an immortal code; who can exclaim in +dithyrambic language, "The die is cast: I have written my book; it +will be read either in the present age or by posterity, it matters +not which; it may well await a reader since God has waited six +thousand years for an interpreter of his works"?</p> +<p>These celebrated laws, known in astronomy as Kepler's laws, are +three in number. The first law is, that the planets describe +ellipses around the sun, which is placed in their common focus; the +second, that a line joining a planet and the sun sweeps over equal +areas in equal times; the third, that the squares of the times of +revolution of the planets about the sun are proportional to the +cubes of their mean distances from that body. The first two laws +were discovered by Kepler in the course of a laborious examination +of the theory of the planet Mars. A full account of this inquiry is +contained in his famous work, 'De Stella Martis' [Of the Planet +Mars], published in 1609. The discovery of the third law was +announced to the world in his treatise on Harmonics (1628).</p> +<p>To seek a physical cause adequate to retain the planets in their +closed orbits; to make the stability of the universe depend on +mechanical forces, and not on solid supports like the crystalline +spheres imagined by our ancestors; to extend to the heavenly bodies +in their courses the laws of earthly mechanics,--such were the +problems which remained for solution after Kepler's discoveries had +been announced. Traces of these great problems may be clearly +perceived here and there among ancient and modern writers, from +Lucretius and Plutarch down to Kepler, Bouillaud, and Borelli. It +is to Newton, however, that we must award the merit of their +solution. This great man, like several of his predecessors, +imagined the celestial bodies to have a tendency to approach each +other in virtue of some attractive force, and from the laws of +Kepler he deduced the mathematical characteristics of this force. +He extended it to all the material molecules of the solar system; +and developed his brilliant discovery in a work which, even at the +present day, is regarded as the supremest product of the human +intellect.</p> +<p>The contributions of France to these revolutions in astronomical +science consisted, in 1740, in the determination by experiment of +the spheroidal figure of the earth, and in the discovery of the +local variations of gravity upon the surface of our planet. These +were two great results; but whenever France is not first in science +she has lost her place. This rank, lost for a moment, was +brilliantly regained by the labors of four geometers. When Newton, +giving to his discoveries a generality which the laws of Kepler did +not suggest, imagined that the different planets were not only +attracted by the sun, but that they also attracted each other, he +introduced into the heavens a cause of universal perturbation. +Astronomers then saw at a glance that in no part of the universe +would the Keplerian laws suffice for the exact representation of +the phenomena of motion; that the simple regular movements with +which the imaginations of the ancients were pleased to endow the +heavenly bodies must experience numerous, considerable, perpetually +changing perturbations. To discover a few of these perturbations, +and to assign their nature and in a few rare cases their numerical +value, was the object which Newton proposed to himself in writing +his famous book, the 'Principia Mathematica Philosophiæ +Naturalis' [Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy], +Notwithstanding the incomparable sagacity of its author, the +'Principia' contained merely a rough outline of planetary +perturbations, though not through any lack of ardor or +perseverance. The efforts of the great philosopher were always +superhuman, and the questions which he did not solve were simply +incapable of solution in his time.</p> +<p>Five geometers--Clairaut, Euler, D'Alembert, Lagrange, and +Laplace--shared between them the world whose existence Newton had +disclosed. They explored it in all directions, penetrated into +regions hitherto inaccessible, and pointed out phenomena hitherto +undetected. Finally--and it is this which constitutes their +imperishable glory--they brought under the domain of a single +principle, a single law, everything that seemed most occult and +mysterious in the celestial movements. Geometry had thus the +hardihood to dispose of the future, while the centuries as they +unroll scrupulously ratify the decisions of science.</p> +<p>If Newton gave a complete solution of celestial movements where +but two bodies attract each other, he did not even attempt the +infinitely more difficult problem of three. The "problem of three +bodies" (this is the name by which it has become celebrated)--the +problem of determining the movement of a body subjected to the +attractive influence of two others--was solved for the first time +by our countryman, Clairaut. Though he enumerated the various +forces which must result from the mutual action of the planets and +satellites of our system, even the great Newton did not venture to +investigate the general nature of their effects. In the midst of +the labyrinth formed by increments and diminutions of velocity, +variations in the forms of orbits, changes in distances and +inclinations, which these forces must evidently produce, the most +learned geometer would fail to discover a trustworthy guide. Forces +so numerous, so variable in direction, so different in intensity, +seemed to be incapable of maintaining a condition of equilibrium +except by a sort of miracle. Newton even suggested that the +planetary system did not contain within itself the elements of +indefinite stability. He was of opinion that a powerful hand must +intervene from time to time to repair the derangements occasioned +by the mutual action of the various bodies. Euler, better +instructed than Newton in a knowledge of these perturbations, also +refused to admit that the solar system was constituted so as to +endure forever.</p> +<p>Never did a greater philosophical question offer itself to the +inquiries of mankind. Laplace attacked it with boldness, +perseverance, and success. The profound and long-continued +researches of the illustrious geometer completely established the +perpetual variability of the planetary ellipses. He demonstrated +that the extremities of their major axes make the circuit of the +heavens; that independent of oscillation, the planes of their +orbits undergo displacements by which their intersections with the +plane of the terrestrial orbit are each year directed toward +different stars. But in the midst of this apparant chaos, there is +one element which remains constant, or is merely subject to small +and periodic changes; namely, the major axis of each orbit, and +consequently the time of revolution of each planet. This is the +element which ought to have varied most, on the principles held by +Newton and Euler. Gravitation, then, suffices to preserve the +stability of the solar system. It maintains the forms and +inclinations of the orbits in an average position, subject to +slight oscillations only; variety does not entail disorder; the +universe offers an example of harmonious relations, of a state of +perfection which Newton himself doubted.</p> +<p>This condition of harmony depends on circumstances disclosed to +Laplace by analysis; circumstances which on the surface do not seem +capable of exercising so great an influence. If instead of planets +all revolving in the same direction, in orbits but slightly +eccentric and in planes inclined at but small angles toward each +other, we should substitute different conditions, the stability of +the universe would be jeopardized, and a frightful chaos would +pretty certainly result. The discovery of the actual conditions +excluded the idea, at least so far as the solar system was +concerned, that the Newtonian attraction might be a cause of +disorder. But might not other forces, combined with the attraction +of gravitation, produce gradually increasing perturbations such as +Newton and Euler feared? Known facts seemed to justify the +apprehension. A comparison of ancient with modern observations +revealed a continual acceleration in the mean motions of the moon +and of Jupiter, and an equally striking diminution of the mean +motion of Saturn. These variations led to a very important +conclusion. In accordance with their presumed cause, to say that +the velocity of a body increased from century to century was +equivalent to asserting that the body continually approached the +centre of motion; on the other hand, when the velocity diminished, +the body must be receding from the centre. Thus, by a strange +ordering of nature, our planetary system seemed destined to lose +Saturn, its most mysterious ornament; to see the planet with its +ring and seven satellites plunge gradually into those unknown +regions where the eye armed with the most powerful telescope has +never penetrated. Jupiter, on the other hand, the planet compared +with which the earth is so insignificant, appeared to be moving in +the opposite direction, so that it would ultimately be absorbed +into the incandescent matter of the sun. Finally, it seemed that +the moon would one day precipitate itself upon the earth.</p> +<p>There was nothing doubtful or speculative in these sinister +forebodings. The precise dates of the approaching catastrophes were +alone uncertain. It was known, however, that they were very +distant. Accordingly, neither the learned dissertations of men of +science nor the animated descriptions of certain poets produced any +impression upon the public mind. The members of our scientific +societies, however, believed with regret the approaching +destruction of the planetary system. The Academy of Sciences called +the attention of geometers of all countries to these menacing +perturbations. Euler and Lagrange descended into the arena. Never +did their mathematical genius shine with a brighter lustre. Still +the question remained undecided, when from two obscure corners of +the theories of analysis, Laplace, the author of the +'Mécanique Céleste,' brought the laws of these great +phenomena clearly to light. The variations in velocity of Jupiter, +Saturn, and the moon, were proved to flow from evident physical +causes, and to belong in the category of ordinary periodic +perturbations depending solely on gravitation. These dreaded +variations in orbital dimensions resolved themselves into simple +oscillations included within narrow limits. In a word, by the +powerful instrumentality of mathematical analysis, the physical +universe was again established on a demonstrably firm +foundation.</p> +<p>Having demonstrated the smallness of these periodic +oscillations, Laplace next succeeded in determining the absolute +dimensions of the orbits. What is the distance of the sun from the +earth? No scientific question has occupied the attention of mankind +in a greater degree. Mathematically speaking, nothing is more +simple: it suffices, as in ordinary surveying, to draw visual lines +from the two extremities of a known base line to an inaccessible +object; the remainder of the process is an elementary calculation. +Unfortunately, in the case of the sun, the distance is very great +and the base lines which can be measured upon the earth are +comparatively very small. In such a case, the slightest errors in +the direction of visual lines exercise an enormous influence upon +the results. In the beginning of the last century, Halley had +remarked that certain interpositions of Venus between the earth and +the sun--or to use the common term, the transits of the planet +across the sun's disk--would furnish at each observing station an +indirect means of fixing the position of the visual ray much +superior in accuracy to the most perfect direct measures. Such was +the object of the many scientific expeditions undertaken in 1761 +and 1769, years in which the transits of Venus occurred. A +comparison of observations made in the Southern Hemisphere with +those of Europe gave for the distance of the sun the result which +has since figured in all treatises on astronomy and navigation. No +government hesitated to furnish scientific academies with the +means, however expensive, of establishing their observers in the +most distant regions. We have already remarked that this +determination seemed imperiously to demand an extensive base, for +small bases would have been totally inadequate. Well, Laplace has +solved the problem without a base of any kind whatever; he has +deduced the distance of the sun from observations of the moon made +in one and the same place.</p> +<p>The sun is, with respect to our satellite the moon, the cause of +perturbations which evidently depend on the distance of the immense +luminous globe from the earth. Who does not see that these +perturbations must diminish if the distance increases, and increase +if the distance diminishes, so that the distance determines the +amount of the perturbations? Observation assigns the numerical +value of these perturbations; theory, on the other hand, unfolds +the general mathematical relation which connects them with the +solar distance and with other known elements. The determination of +the mean radius of the terrestrial orbit--of the distance of the +sun--then becomes one of the most simple operations of algebra. +Such is the happy combination by the aid of which Laplace has +solved the great, the celebrated problem of parallax. It is thus +that the illustrious geometer found for the mean distance of the +sun from the earth, expressed in radii of the terrestrial orbit, a +value differing but slightly from that which was the fruit of so +many troublesome and expensive voyages.</p> +<p>The movements of the moon proved a fertile mine of research to +our great geometer. His penetrating intellect discovered in them +unknown treasures. With an ability and a perseverance equally +worthy of admiration, he separated these treasures from the +coverings which had hitherto concealed them from vulgar eyes. For +example, the earth governs the movements of the moon. The earth is +flattened; in other words, its figure is spheroidal. A spheroidal +body does not attract as does a sphere. There should then exist in +the movement--I had almost said in the countenance--of the moon a +sort of impress of the spheroidal figure of the earth. Such was the +idea as it originally occurred to Laplace. By means of a minutely +careful investigation, he discovered in its motion two well-defined +perturbations, each depending on the spheroidal figure of the +earth. When these were submitted to calculation, each led to the +same value of the ellipticity. It must be recollected that the +ellipticity thus derived from the motions of the moon is not the +one corresponding to such or such a country, to the ellipticity +observed in France, in England, in Italy, in Lapland, in North +America, in India, or in the region of the Cape of Good Hope; for, +the earth's crust having undergone considerable upheavals at +different times and places, the primitive regularity of its +curvature has been sensibly disturbed thereby. The moon (and it is +this which renders the result of such inestimable value) ought to +assign, and has in reality assigned, the general ellipticity of the +earth; in other words, it has indicated a sort of average value of +the various determinations obtained at enormous expense, and with +infinite labor, as the result of long voyages undertaken by +astronomers of all the countries of Europe.</p> +<p>Certain remarks of Laplace himself bring into strong relief the +profound, the unexpected, the almost paradoxical character of the +methods I have attempted to sketch. What are the elements it has +been found necessary to confront with each other in order to arrive +at results expressed with such extreme precision? On the one hand, +mathematical formulae deduced from the principle of universal +gravitation; on the other, certain irregularities observed in the +returns of the moon to the meridian. An observing geometer, who +from his infancy had never quitted his study, and who had never +viewed the heavens except through a narrow aperture directed north +and south,--to whom nothing had ever been revealed respecting the +bodies revolving above his head, except that they attract each +other according to the Newtonian law of gravitation,--would still +perceive that his narrow abode was situated upon the surface of a +spheroidal body, whose equatorial axis was greater than its polar +by a three hundred and sixth part. In his isolated, fixed position +he could still deduce his true distance from the sun!</p> +<p>Laplace's improvement of the lunar tables not only promoted +maritime intercourse between distant countries, but preserved the +lives of mariners. Thanks to an unparalleled sagacity, to a +limitless perseverance, to an ever youthful and communicable ardor, +Laplace solved the celebrated problem of the longitude with a +precision even greater than the utmost needs of the art of +navigation demanded. The ship, the sport of the winds and tempests, +no longer fears to lose its way in the immensity of the ocean. In +every place and at every time the pilot reads in the starry heavens +his distance from the meridian of Paris. The extreme perfection of +these tables of the moon places Laplace in the ranks of the world's +benefactors.</p> +<p>In the beginning of the year 1611, Galileo supposed that he +found in the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites a simple and rigorous +solution of the famous problem of the longitude, and attempts to +introduce the new method on board the numerous vessels of Spain and +Holland at once began. They failed because the necessary +observations required powerful telescopes, which could not be +employed on a tossing ship. Even the expectations of the +serviceability of Galileo's methods for land calculations proved +premature. The movements of the satellites of Jupiter are far less +simple than the immortal Italian supposed them to be. The labors of +three more generations of astronomers and mathematicians were +needed to determine them, and the mathematical genius of Laplace +was needed to complete their labors. At the present day the +nautical ephemerides contain, several years in advance, the +indications of the times of the eclipses and reappearances of +Jupiter's satellites. Calculation is as precise as direct +observation.</p> +<p>Influenced by an exaggerated deference, modesty, timidity, +France in the eighteenth century surrendered to England the +exclusive privilege of constructing her astronomical instruments. +Thus, when Herschel was prosecuting his beautiful observations on +the other side of the Channel, we had not even the means of +verifying them. Fortunately for the scientific honor of our +country, mathematical analysis also is a powerful instrument. The +great Laplace, from the retirement of his study, foresaw, and +accurately predicted in advance, what the excellent astronomer of +Windsor would soon behold with the largest telescopes existing. +When, in 1610, Galileo directed toward Saturn a lens of very low +power which he had just constructed with his own hands, although he +perceived that the planet was not a globe, he could not ascertain +its real form. The expression "tri-corporate," by which the +illustrious Florentine designated the appearance of the planet, +even implied a totally erroneous idea of its structure. At the +present day every one knows that Saturn consists of a globe about +nine hundred times greater than the earth, and of a ring. This ring +does not touch the ball of the planet, being everywhere removed +from it to a distance of twenty thousand (English) miles. +Observation indicates the breadth of the ring to be fifty-four +thousand miles. The thickness certainly does not exceed two hundred +and fifty miles. With the exception of a black streak which divides +the ring throughout its whole contour into two parts of unequal +breadth and of different brightness, this strange colossal bridge +without foundations had never offered to the most experienced or +skillful observers either spot or protuberance adapted for deciding +whether it was immovable or endowed with a motion of rotation. +Laplace considered it to be very improbable, if the ring was +stationary, that its constituent parts should be capable of +resisting by mere cohesion the continual attraction of the planet. +A movement of rotation occurred to his mind as constituting the +principle of stability, and he deduced the necessary velocity from +this consideration. The velocity thus found was exactly equal to +that which Herschel subsequently derived from a series of extremely +delicate observations. The two parts of the ring, being at +different distances from the planet, could not fail to be given +different movements of precession by the action of the sun. Hence +it would seem that the planes of both rings ought in general to be +inclined toward each other, whereas they appear from observation +always to coincide. It was necessary then that some physical cause +capable of neutralizing the action of the sun should exist. In a +memoir published in February, 1789, Laplace found that this cause +depended on the ellipticity of Saturn produced by a rapid movement +of rotation of the planet, a movement whose discovery Herschel +announced in November of the same year.</p> +<p>If we descend from the heavens to the earth, the discoveries of +Laplace will appear not less worthy of his genius. He reduced the +phenomena of the tides, which an ancient philosopher termed in +despair "the tomb of human curiosity," to an analytical theory in +which the physical conditions of the question figure for the first +time. Consequently, to the immense advantage of coast navigation, +calculators now venture to predict in detail the time and height of +the tides several years in advance. Between the phenomena of the +ebb and flow, and the attractive forces of the sun and moon upon +the fluid sheet which covers three fourths of the globe, an +intimate and necessary connection exists; a connection from which +Laplace deduced the value of the mass of our satellite the moon. +Yet so late as the year 1631 the illustrious Galileo, as appears +from his 'Dialogues,' was so far from perceiving the mathematical +relations from which Laplace deduced results so beautiful, so +unequivocal, and so useful, that he taxed with frivolousness the +vague idea which Kepler entertained of attributing to the moon's +attraction a certain share in the production of the diurnal and +periodical movements of the waters of the ocean.</p> +<p>Laplace did not confine his genius to the extension and +improvement of the mathematical theory of the tide. He considered +the phenomenon from an entirely new point of view, and it was he +who first treated of the stability of the ocean. He has established +its equilibrium, but upon the express condition (which, however, +has been amply proved to exist) that the mean density of the fluid +mass is less than the mean density of the earth. Everything else +remaining the same, if we substituted an ocean of quicksilver for +the actual ocean, this stability would disappear. The fluid would +frequently overflow its boundaries, to ravage continents even to +the height of the snowy peaks which lose themselves in the +clouds.</p> +<p>No one was more sagacious than Laplace in discovering intimate +relations between phenomena apparently unrelated, or more skillful +in deducing important conclusions from such unexpected affinities. +For example, toward the close of his days, with the aid of certain +lunar observations, with a stroke of his pen he overthrew the +cosmogonic theories of Buffon and Bailly, which were so long in +favor. According to these theories, the earth was hastening to a +state of congelation which was close at hand. Laplace, never +contented with vague statements, sought to determine in numbers the +rate of the rapid cooling of our globe which Buffon had so +eloquently but so gratuitously announced. Nothing could be more +simple, better connected, or more conclusive than the chain of +deductions of the celebrated geometer. A body diminishes in volume +when it cools. According to the most elementary principles of +mechanics, a rotating body which contracts in dimensions must +inevitably turn upon its axis with greater and greater rapidity. +The length of the day has been determined in all ages by the time +of the earth's rotation; if the earth is cooling, the length of the +day must be continually shortening. Now, there exists a means of +ascertaining whether the length of the day has undergone any +variation; this consists in examining, for each century, the arc of +the celestial sphere described by the moon during the interval of +time which the astronomers of the existing epoch call a day; in +other words, the time required by the earth to effect a complete +rotation on its axis, the velocity of the moon being in fact +independent of the time of the earth's rotation. Let us now, +following Laplace, take from the standard tables the smallest +values, if you choose, of the expansions or contractions which +solid bodies experience from changes of temperature; let us search +the annals of Grecian, Arabian, and modern astronomy for the +purpose of finding in them the angular velocity of the moon: and +the great geometer will prove, by incontrovertible evidence founded +upon these data, that during a period of two thousand years the +mean temperature of the earth has not varied to the extent of the +hundredth part of a degree of the centigrade thermometer. Eloquence +cannot resist such a process of reasoning, or withstand the force +of such figures. Mathematics has ever been the implacable foe of +scientific romances. The constant object of Laplace was the +explanation of the great phenomena of nature according to +inflexible principles of mathematical analysis. No philosopher, no +mathematician, could have guarded himself more cautiously against a +propensity to hasty speculation. No person dreaded more the +scientific errors which cajole the imagination when it passes the +boundary of fact, calculation, and analogy.</p> +<p>Once, and once only, did Laplace launch forward, like Kepler, +like Descartes, like Leibnitz, like Buffon, into the region of +conjectures. But then his conception was nothing less than a +complete cosmogony. All the planets revolve around the sun, from +west to east, and in planes only slightly inclined to each other. +The satellites revolve around their respective primaries in the +same direction. Both planets and satellites, having a rotary +motion, turn also upon their axes from west to east. Finally, the +rotation of the sun also is directed from west to east. Here, then, +is an assemblage of forty-three movements, all operating alike. By +the calculus of probabilities, the odds are four thousand millions +to one that this coincidence in direction is not the effect of +accident.</p> +<p>It was Buffon, I think, who first attempted to explain this +singular feature of our solar system. "Wishing, in the explanation +of phenomena, to avoid recourse to causes which are not to be found +in nature," the celebrated academician sought for a physical cause +for what is common to the movements of so many bodies differing as +they do in magnitude, in form, and in their distances from the +centre of attraction. He imagined that he had discovered such a +physical cause by making this triple supposition: a comet fell +obliquely upon the sun; it pushed before it a torrent of fluid +matter; this substance, transported to a greater or less distance +from the sun according to its density, formed by condensation all +the known planets. The bold hypothesis is subject to insurmountable +difficulties. I proceed to indicate, in a few words, the cosmogonic +system which Laplace substituted for it.</p> +<p>According to Laplace, the sun was, at a remote epoch, the +central nucleus of an immense nebula, which possessed a very high +temperature, and extended far beyond the region in which Uranus now +revolves. No planet was then in existence. The solar nebula was +endowed with a general movement of rotation in the direction west +to east. As it cooled it could not fail to experience a gradual +condensation, and in consequence to rotate with greater and greater +rapidity. If the nebulous matter extended originally in the plane +of its equator, as far as the limit where the centrifugal force +exactly counterbalanced the attraction of the nucleus, the +molecules situate at this limit ought, during the process of +condensation, to separate from the rest of the atmospheric matter +and to form an equatorial zone, a ring, revolving separately and +with its primitive velocity. We may conceive that analogous +separations were effected in the remoter strata of the nebula at +different epochs and at different distances from the nucleus, and +that they gave rise to a succession of distinct rings, all lying in +nearly the same plane, and all endowed with different +velocities.</p> +<p>This being once admitted, it is easy to see that the permanent +stability of the rings would have required a regularity of +structure throughout their whole contour, which is very improbable. +Each of them, accordingly, broke in its turn into several masses, +which were obviously endowed with a movement of rotation coinciding +in direction with the common movement of revolution, and which, in +consequence of their fluidity, assumed spheroidal forms. In order, +next, that one of those spheroids may absorb all the others +belonging to the same ring, it is sufficient to suppose it to have +a mass greater than that of any other spheroid of its group.</p> +<p>Each of the planets, while in this vaporous condition to which +we have just alluded, would manifestly have a central nucleus, +gradually increasing in magnitude and mass, and an atmosphere +offering, at its successive limits, phenomena entirely similar to +those which the solar atmosphere, properly so called, had +exhibited. We are here contemplating the birth of satellites and +the birth of the ring of Saturn.</p> +<p>The Nebular Hypothesis, of which I have just given an imperfect +sketch, has for its object to show how a nebula endowed with a +general movement of rotation must eventually transform itself into +a very luminous central nucleus (a sun), and into a series of +distinct spheroidal planets, situate at considerable distances from +one another, all revolving around the central sun, in the direction +of the original movement of the nebula; how these planets ought +also to have movements of rotation in similar directions; how, +finally, the satellites, when any such are formed, must revolve +upon their axes and around their respective primaries, in the +direction of rotation of the planets and of their movement of +revolution around the sun.</p> +<p>In all that precedes, attention has been concentrated upon the +'Mécanique Céleste.' The 'Système du Monde' +and the 'Théorie Analytique des Probabilités' also +deserve description.</p> +<p>The Exposition of the System of the World is the +'Mécanique Céleste' divested of that great apparatus +of analytical formulae which must be attentively perused by every +astronomer who, to use an expression of Plato, wishes to know the +numbers which govern the physical universe. It is from this work +that persons ignorant of mathematics may obtain competent knowledge +of the methods to which physical astronomy owes its astonishing +progress. Written with a noble simplicity of style, an exquisite +exactness of expression, and a scrupulous accuracy, it is +universally conceded to stand among the noblest monuments of French +literature.... The labors of all ages to persuade truth from the +heavens are there justly, clearly, and profoundly analyzed. Genius +presides as the impartial judge of genius. Throughout his work +Laplace remained at the height of his great mission. It will be +read with respect so long as the torch of science illuminates the +world.</p> +<p>The calculus of probabilities, when confined within just limits, +concerns the mathematician, the experimenter, and the statesman. +From the time when Pascal and Fermat established its first +principles, it has rendered most important daily services. This it +is which, after suggesting the best form for statistical tables of +population and mortality, teaches us to deduce from those numbers, +so often misinterpreted, the most precise and useful conclusions. +This it is which alone regulates with equity insurance premiums, +pension funds, annuities, discounts, etc. This it is that has +gradually suppressed lotteries, and other shameful snares cunningly +laid for avarice and ignorance. Laplace has treated these questions +with his accustomed superiority: the 'Analytical Theory of +Probabilities' is worthy of the author of the 'Mécanique +Céleste.'</p> +<p>A philosopher whose name is associated with immortal discoveries +said to his too conservative audience, "Bear in mind, gentlemen, +that in questions of science the authority of a thousand is not +worth the humble reasoning of a single individual." Two centuries +have passed over these words of Galileo without lessening their +value or impugning their truth. For this reason, it has been +thought better rather to glance briefly at the work of Laplace than +to repeat the eulogies of his admirers.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="JOHN_ARBUTHNOT"></a>JOHN ARBUTHNOT</h2> +<h3>(1667-1735)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>rbuthnot's place in literature depends as much on his +association with the wits of his day as on his own satirical and +humorous productions. Many of these have been published in the +collections of Swift, Gay, Pope, and others, and cannot be +identified. The task of verifying them is rendered more difficult +by the fact that his son repudiated a collection claiming to be his +'Miscellaneous Works,' published in 1750.</p> +<p>John Arbuthnot was born in the manse near Arbuthnot Castle, +Kincardineshire, Scotland, April 29th, 1667. He was the son of a +Scotch Episcopal clergyman, who was soon to be dispossessed of his +parish by the Presbyterians in the Revolution of 1688. His +children, who shared his Jacobite sentiments, were forced to leave +Scotland; and John, after finishing his university course at +Aberdeen, and taking his medical degree at St. Andrews, went to +London and taught mathematics. He soon attracted attention by a +keen and satirical 'Examination of Dr. Woodward's Account of the +Deluge,' published in 1697. By a fortunate chance he was called to +attend the Prince Consort (Prince George of Denmark), and in 1705 +was made Physician Extraordinary to Queen Anne. If we may believe +Swift, the agreeable Scotchman at once became her favorite +attendant. His position at court was strengthened by his +friendships with the great Tory statesmen.</p> +<p class="lft"><img src="images/image-260.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>JOHN ARBUTHNOT</b></p> +<p>Arbuthnot's best remembered work is 'The History of John Bull'; +not because many people read or will ever read the book itself, but +because it fixed a typical name and a typical character +ineffaceably in the popular fancy and memory. He is credited with +having been the first to use this famous sobriquet for the English +nation; he was certainly the first to make it universal, and the +first to make that burly, choleric, gross-feeding, hard-drinking, +blunt-spoken, rather stupid and decidedly gullible, but honest and +straightforward character one of the stock types of the world. The +book appeared as four separate pamphlets: the first being entitled +'Law is a Bottomless Pit, Exemplified in the Case of Lord Strutt, +John Bull, Nicholas Frog, and Lewis Baboon, Who Spent All They Had +in a Law Suit'; the second, 'John Bull in His Senses'; the third, +'John Bull Still in His Senses'; and the fourth, 'Lewis Baboon +Turned Honest, and John Bull Politician.' Published in 1712, these +were at once attributed to Swift. But Pope says, "Dr. Arbuthnot was +the sole writer of 'John Bull'"; and Swift gives us still more +conclusive evidence by writing, "I hope you read 'John Bull.' It +was a Scotch gentleman, a friend of mine, that writ it; but they +put it on to me." In his humorous preface Dr. Arbuthnot says:--</p> +<p>"When I was first called to the office of historiographer to +John Bull, he expressed himself to this purpose:--'Sir Humphrey +Polesworth, I know you are a plain dealer; it is for that reason I +have chosen you for this important trust; speak the truth, and +spare not.' That I might fulfill those, his honorable intentions, I +obtained leave to repair to and attend him in his most secret +retirements; and I put the journals of all transactions into a +strong box to be opened at a fitting occasion, after the manner of +the historiographers of some Eastern monarchs.... And now, that +posterity may not be ignorant in what age so excellent a history +was written (which would otherwise, no doubt, be the subject of its +inquiries), I think it proper to inform the learned of future times +that it was compiled when Louis XIV. was King of France, and +Philip, his grandson, of Spain; when England and Holland, in +conjunction with the Emperor and the allies, entered into a war +against these two princes, which lasted ten years, under the +management of the Duke of Marlborough, and was put to a conclusion +by the treaty of Utrecht under the ministry of the Earl of Oxford, +in the year 1713."</p> +<p>The characters disguised are: "John Bull," the English; +"Nicholas Frog," the Dutch; "Lewis Baboon," the French king; "Lord +Strutt," the late King of Spain; "Philip Baboon," the Duke of +Anjou; "Esquire South," the King of Spain; "Humphrey Hocus," the +Duke of Marlborough; and "Sir Roger Bold," the Earl of Oxford. The +lawsuit was the War of the Spanish Succession; John Bull's first +wife was the late ministry; and his second wife the Tory ministry. +To explain the allegory further, John Bull's mother was the Church +of England; his sister Peg, the Scotch nation; and her lover Jack, +Presbyterianism.</p> +<p>That so witty a work, so strong in typical freehand character +drawing of permanent validity and remembrance, should be unread and +its author forgotten except by scholars, is too curious a fact not +to have a deep cause in its own character. The cause is not hard to +find: it is one of the books which try to turn the world's current +backward, and which the world dislikes as offending its ideals of +progress. Stripped of its broad humor, its object, rubbed in with +no great delicacy of touch, was to uphold the most extreme and +reactionary Toryism of the time, and to jeer at political +liberalism from the ground up. Its theoretic loyalty is the +non-resistant Jacobitism of the Nonjurors, which it is so hard for +us now to distinguish from abject slavishness; though like the +principles of the casuists, one must not confound theory with +practice. It seems the loyalty of a mujik or a Fiji dressed in +cultivated modern clothes, not that of a conceivable cultivated +modern community as a whole; but it would be very Philistine to +pour wholesale contempt on a creed held by so many large minds and +souls. It was of course produced by the experience of what the +reverse tenets had brought on,--a long civil war, years of military +despotism, and immense social and moral disorganization. In 'John +Bull,' the fidelity of a subject to a king is made exactly +correspondent, both in theory and practice, with the fidelity of a +wife to her husband and her marriage vows; and an elaborate +parallel is worked out to show that advocating the right of +resistance to a bad king is precisely the same, on grounds of +either logic or Scripture, as advocating the right of adultery +toward a bad husband. This is not even good fooling; and, its local +use past and no longer buoyed by personal liking for the author, +the book sinks back into the limbo of partisan polemics with many +worse ones and perhaps some better ones, dragging its real +excellences down with it.</p> +<p>In 1714 the famous Scriblerus Club was organized, having for its +members Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, Gay, Congreve, Lord Oxford, and +Bishop Atterbury. They agreed to write a series of papers +ridiculing, in the words of Pope, "all the false tastes in +learning, under the character of a man of capacity enough, but that +had dipped into every art and science, but injudiciously in each." +The chronicle of this club was found in 'The Memoirs of the +Extraordinary Life, Works, and Discoveries of Martinus Scriblerus,' +which is thought to have been written entirely by Arbuthnot, and +which describes the education of a learned pedant's son. Its humor +may be appreciated by means of the citation given below. The first +book of 'Scriblerus' appeared six years after Arbuthnot's death, +when it was included in the second volume of Alexander Pope's works +(1741). Pope said that from the 'Memoirs of Scriblerus' Swift took +his idea of 'Gulliver'; and the Dean himself writes to Arbuthnot, +July 3d, 1714:--</p> +<blockquote>"To talk of 'Martin' in any hands but Yours is a Folly. +You every day give better hints than all of us together could do in +a twelvemonth. And to say the truth, Pope, who first thought of the +Hint, has no Genius at all to it, in my mind; Gay is too young; +Parnell has some ideas of it, but is idle; I could put together, +and lard, and strike out well enough, but all that relates to the +Sciences must be from you."</blockquote> +<p>Swift's opinion that Arbuthnot "has more wit than we all have, +and his humanity is equal to his wit," seems to have been the +universal dictum; and Pope honored him by publishing a dialogue in +the 'Prologue to the Satires,' known first as 'The Epistle to Dr. +Arbuthnot,' which contains many affectionate personal allusions. +Aitken says, in his biography:--</p> +<blockquote>"Arbuthnot's attachment to Swift and Pope was of the +most intimate nature, and those who knew them best maintained that +he was their equal at least in gifts. He understood Swift's +cynicism, and their correspondence shows the unequaled sympathy +that existed between the two. Gay, Congreve, Berkeley, Parnell, +were among Arbuthnot's constant friends, and all of them were +indebted to him for kindnesses freely rendered. He was on terms of +intimacy with Bolingbroke and Oxford, Chesterfield, Peterborough, +and Pulteney; and among the ladies with whom he mixed were Lady +Mary Wortley Montagu, Lady Betty Germain, Mrs. Howard, Lady Masham, +and Mrs. Martha Blount. He was, too, the trusted friend and +physician of Queen Anne. Most of the eminent men of science of the +time, including some who were opposed to him in politics, were in +frequent intercourse with him; and it is pleasant to know that at +least one of the greatest of the wits who were most closely allied +to the Whig party--Addison--had friendly relations with +him."</blockquote> +<p>From the letters of Lord Chesterfield we learn that</p> +<blockquote>"His imagination was almost inexhaustible, and whatever +subject he treated, or was consulted upon, he immediately +overflowed with all that it could possibly produce. It was at +anybody's service, for as soon as he was exonerated he did not care +what became of it; insomuch that his sons, when young, have +frequently made kites of his scattered papers of hints, which would +have furnished good matter for folios. Not being in the least +jealous of his fame as an author, he would neither take the time +nor the trouble of separating the best from the worst; he worked +out the whole mine, which afterward, in the hands of skillful +refiners, produced a rich vein of ore. As his imagination was +always at work, he was frequently absent and inattentive in +company, which made him both say and do a thousand inoffensive +absurdities; but which, far from being provoking, as they commonly +are, supplied new matter for conversation, and occasioned wit both +in himself and others."</blockquote> +<p>Speaking to Boswell of the writers of Queen Anne's time, Dr. +Johnson said, "I think Dr. Arbuthnot the first man among them. He +was the most universal genius, being an excellent physician, a man +of deep learning, and a man of much humor." He did not, however, +think much of the 'Scriblerus' papers, and said they were forgotten +because "no man would be the wiser, better, or merrier for +remembering them"; which is hard measure for the wit and +divertingness of some of the travesties. Cowper, reviewing +Johnson's 'Lives of the Poets,' declared that "one might search +these eight volumes with a candle to find a man, and not find one, +unless perhaps Arbuthnot were he." Thackeray, too, called him "one +of the wisest, wittiest, most accomplished, gentlest of +mankind."</p> +<p>Thus fortunate in his sunny spirit, in his genius for +friendship, in his professional eminence, and in his literary +capacity, Dr. Arbuthnot saw his life flow smoothly to its close. He +died in London on February 27th, 1735, at the age of sixty eight, +still working and playing with youthful ardor, and still surrounded +with all the good things of life.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h3><a name="THE_TRUE_CHARACTERS_OF_JOHN_BULL"></a>THE TRUE +CHARACTERS OF JOHN BULL, NIC. FROG, AND HOCUS</h3> +<center>From 'The History of John Bull,' Part I.</center> +<br> +<p>For the better understanding the following history, the reader +ought to know that Bull, in the main, was an honest, plain-dealing +fellow, choleric, bold, and of a very unconstant temper; he dreaded +not old Lewis either at backsword, single falchion, or cudgel play; +but then he was very apt to quarrel with his best friends, +especially if they pretended to govern him. If you flattered him, +you might lead him like a child. John's temper depended very much +upon the air; his spirits rose and fell with the weather-glass. +John was quick and understood his business very well; but no man +alive was more careless in looking into his accounts, or more +cheated by partners, apprentices, and servants. This was occasioned +by his being a boon companion, loving his bottle and his diversion; +for, to say truth, no man kept a better house than John, nor spent +his money more generously. By plain and fair dealing John had +acquired some plums, and might have kept them, had it not been for +his unhappy lawsuit.</p> +<p>Nic. Frog was a cunning, sly fellow, quite the reverse of John +in many particulars; covetous, frugal, minded domestic affairs, +would pinch his belly to save his pocket, never lost a farthing by +careless servants or bad debtors. He did not care much for any sort +of diversion, except tricks of High German artists and legerdemain. +No man exceeded Nic. in these; yet it must be owned that Nic. was a +fair dealer, and in that way acquired immense riches.</p> +<p>Hocus was an old, cunning attorney; and though this was the +first considerable suit that ever he was engaged in, he showed +himself superior in address to most of his profession. He kept +always good clerks, he loved money, was smooth-tongued, gave good +words, and seldom lost his temper. He was not worse than an +infidel, for he provided plentifully for his family, but he loved +himself better than them all. The neighbors reported that he was +henpecked, which was impossible, by such a mild-spirited woman as +his wife was.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<h3><a name="HOW_THE_RELATIONS_RECONCILED"></a>HOW THE RELATIONS +RECONCILED JOHN AND HIS SISTER PEG, AND WHAT RETURN PEG MADE TO +JOHN'S MESSAGE</h3> +<center>From the 'History of John Bull,' Part I.</center> +<br> +<p>John Bull, otherwise a good-natured man, was very hard-hearted +to his sister Peg, chiefly from an aversion he had conceived in his +infancy. While he flourished, kept a warm house, and drove a +plentiful trade, poor Peg was forced to go hawking and peddling +about the streets selling knives, scissors, and shoe-buckles; now +and then carried a basket of fish to the market; sewed, spun, and +knit for a livelihood till her fingers' ends were sore: and when +she could not get bread for her family, she was forced to hire them +out at journey-work to her neighbors. Yet in these, her poor +circumstances, she still preserved the air and mien of a +gentlewoman--a certain decent pride that extorted respect from the +haughtiest of her neighbors. When she came in to any full assembly, +she would not yield the <i>pas</i> to the best of them. If one +asked her, "Are you not related to John Bull?" "Yes," says she, "he +has the honor to be my brother." So Peg's affairs went till all the +relations cried out shame upon John for his barbarous usage of his +own flesh and blood; that it was an easy matter for him to put her +in a creditable way of living, not only without hurt, but with +advantage to himself, seeing she was an industrious person, and +might be serviceable to him in his way of business. "Hang her, +jade," quoth John, "I can't endure her as long as she keeps that +rascal Jack's company." They told him the way to reclaim her was to +take her into his house; that by conversation the childish humors +of their younger days might be worn out.</p> +<p>These arguments were enforced by a certain incident. It happened +that John was at that time about making his will and entailing his +estate, the very same in which Nic. Frog is named executor. Now, +his sister Peg's name being in the entail, he could not make a +thorough settlement without her consent. There was indeed a +malicious story went about, as if John's last wife had fallen in +love with Jack as he was eating custard on horseback; that she +persuaded John to take his sister into the house the better to +drive on the intrigue with Jack, concluding he would follow his +mistress Peg. All I can infer from this story is that when one has +got a bad character in the world, people will report and believe +anything of them, true or false. But to return to my story.</p> +<p>When Peg received John's message she huffed and stormed:--"My +brother John," quoth she, "is grown wondrous kind-hearted all of a +sudden, but I meikle doubt whether it be not mair for their own +conveniency than for my good; he draws up his writs and his deeds, +forsooth, and I must set my hand to them, unsight, unseen. I like +the young man he has settled upon well enough, but I think I ought +to have a valuable consideration for my consent. He wants my poor +little farm because it makes a nook in his park wall. You may e'en +tell him he has mair than he makes good use of; he gangs up and +down drinking, roaring, and quarreling, through all the country +markets, making foolish bargains in his cups, which he repents when +he is sober; like a thriftless wretch, spending the goods and gear +that his forefathers won with the sweat of their brows; light come, +light go; he cares not a farthing. But why should I stand surety +for his contracts? The little I have is free, and I can call it my +own--hame's hame, let it be never so hamely. I ken well enough, he +could never abide me, and when he has his ends he'll e'en use me as +he did before. I'm sure I shall be treated like a poor drudge--I +shall be set to tend the bairns, darn the hose, and mend the linen. +Then there's no living with that old carline, his mother; she rails +at Jack, and Jack's an honester man than any of her kin: I shall be +plagued with her spells and her Paternosters, and silly Old World +ceremonies; I mun never pare my nails on a Friday, nor begin a +journey on Childermas Day; and I mun stand becking and binging as I +gang out and into the hall. Tell him he may e'en gang his get; I'll +have nothing to do with him; I'll stay like the poor country mouse, +in my awn habitation."</p> +<p>So Peg talked; but for all that, by the interposition of good +friends, and by many a bonny thing that was sent, and many more +that were promised Peg, the matter was concluded, and Peg taken +into the house upon certain articles [the Act of Toleration is +referred to]; one of which was that she might have the freedom of +Jack's conversation, and might take him for better or for worse if +she pleased; provided always he did not come into the house at +unseasonable hours and disturb the rest of the old woman, John's +mother.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="OF_THE_RUDIMENTS_OF_MARTINS_LEARNING"></a>OF THE +RUDIMENTS OF MARTIN'S LEARNING</h2> +<center>From 'Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus'</center> +<br> +<p>Mrs. Scriblerus considered it was now time to instruct him in +the fundamentals of religion, and to that end took no small pains +in teaching him his catechism. But Cornelius looked upon this as a +tedious way of instruction, and therefore employed his head to find +out more pleasing methods, the better to induce him to be fond of +learning. He would frequently carry him to the puppet-show of the +creation of the world, where the child, with exceeding delight, +gained a notion of the history of the Bible. His first rudiments in +profane history were acquired by seeing of raree-shows, where he +was brought acquainted with all the princes of Europe. In short, +the old gentleman so contrived it to make everything contribute to +the improvement of his knowledge, even to his very dress. He +invented for him a geographical suit of clothes, which might give +him some hints of that science, and likewise some knowledge of the +commerce of different nations. He had a French hat with an African +feather, Holland shirts, Flanders lace, English clothes lined with +Indian silk, his gloves were Italian, and his shoes were Spanish: +he was made to observe this, and daily catechized thereupon, which +his father was wont to call "traveling at home." He never gave him +a fig or an orange but he obliged him to give an account from what +country it came. In natural history he was much assisted by his +curiosity in sign-posts; insomuch that he hath often confessed he +owed to them the knowledge of many creatures which he never found +since in any author, such as white lions, golden dragons, etc. He +once thought the same of green men, but had since found them +mentioned by Kercherus, and verified in the history of William of +Newburg.</p> +<p>His disposition to the mathematics was discovered very early, by +his drawing parallel lines on his bread and butter, and +intersecting them at equal angles, so as to form the whole +superficies into squares. But in the midst of all these +improvements a stop was put to his learning the alphabet, nor would +he let him proceed to the letter D, till he could truly and +distinctly pronounce C in the ancient manner, at which the child +unhappily boggled for near three months. He was also obliged to +delay his learning to write, having turned away the writing-master +because he knew nothing of Fabius's waxen tables.</p> +<p>Cornelius having read and seriously weighed the methods by which +the famous Montaigne was educated, and resolving in some degree to +exceed them, resolved he should speak and learn nothing but the +learned languages, and especially the Greek; in which he constantly +eat and drank, according to Homer. But what most conduced to his +easy attainment of this language was his love of gingerbread: which +his father observing, caused to be stamped with the letters of the +Greek alphabet; and the child the very first day eat as far as +Iota. By his particular application to this language above the +rest, he attained so great a proficiency therein, that Gronovius +ingenuously confesses he durst not confer with this child in Greek +at eight years old; and at fourteen he composed a tragedy in the +same language, as the younger Pliny had done before him.</p> +<p>He learned the Oriental languages of Erpenius, who resided some +time with his father for that purpose. He had so early a relish for +the Eastern way of writing, that even at this time he composed (in +imitation of it) 'A Thousand and One Arabian Tales,' and also the +'Persian Tales,' which have been since translated into several +languages, and lately into our own with particular elegance by Mr. +Ambrose Philips. In this work of his childhood he was not a little +assisted by the historical traditions of his nurse.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_ARGONAUTIC_LEGEND"></a>THE ARGONAUTIC LEGEND</h2> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he legend of the Argonauts relates to the story of a band of +heroes who sailed from Thessaly to Æa, the region of the +Sun-god on the remotest shore of the Black Sea, in quest of a +Golden Fleece. The ship Argo bore the heroes, under the command of +Jason, to whom the task had been assigned by his uncle Pelias. +Pelias was the usurper of his nephew's throne; and for Jason, on +his coming to man's estate, he devised the perilous adventure of +fetching the golden fleece of the Speaking Ram which many years +before had carried Phrixus to Æa, or Colchis. Fifty of the +most distinguished Grecian heroes came to Jason's aid, while Argus, +the son of Phrixus, under the guidance of Athena, built the ship, +inserting in the prow, for prophetic advice and furtherance, a +piece of the famous talking oak of Dodona. Tiphys was the +steersman, and Orpheus joined the crew to enliven the weariness of +their sea-life with his harp.</p> +<p>The heroes came first to Lemnos, where the women had risen in +revolt and slain fathers, brothers, and husbands. Here the voyagers +lingered almost a year; but at last, having taken leave, they came +to the southern coast of Propontis, where the Doliones dwelt under +King Cyzicus. Their kind entertainment among this people was marred +by ill-fate; for having weighed anchor in the night, they were +driven back by a storm, and being mistaken for foes, were fiercely +attacked. Cyzicus himself fell by the hand of Jason. They next +touched at the country of the Bebrycians, where the hero Pollux +overcame the king in a boxing-match and bound him to a tree; and +thence to Salmydessus, to consult the soothsayer Phineus. In +gratitude for their freeing him from the Harpies, who, as often as +his table was set, descended out of the clouds upon his food and +defiled it, the prophet directed them safe to Colchis. The heroes +rowing with might, thus passed the Symplegades, two cliffs which +opened and shut with such swift violence that a bird could scarce +fly through the passage. The rocks were held apart with the help of +Athena, and from that day they became fixed and harmless. Further +on, they came in sight of Mount Caucasus, saw the eagle which +preyed on the vitals of Prometheus, and heard the sufferer's woeful +cries. So their journey was accomplished, and they arrived at +Æa, and the palace of King Æetes.</p> +<p>When the king heard the errand of the heroes he was moved +against them, and refused to give up the fleece except on terms +which he thought Jason durst not comply with. Two bulls, snorting +fire, with feet of brass, Jason was required to yoke, and with them +plow a field and sow the land with dragon's teeth. Here the +heavenly powers came to the hero's aid, and Hera and Athena prayed +Aphrodite to send the shaft of Cupid upon Medea, the youthful +daughter of the king. Thus it came about that Medea conceived a +great passion for the young hero, and with the magic which she knew +she made for him a salve. The salve rendered his body invulnerable. +He yoked the bulls, and ploughed the field, and sowed the dragon's +teeth. A crop of armed men sprang from the sowing, but Jason, +prepared for this marvel by Medea, threw among them a stone which +she had given him, whereupon they fell upon and slew one +another.</p> +<p>But Æetes still refused to fetch the fleece, plotting +secretly to burn the Argo and kill the heroic Argonauts. Medea came +to their succor, and by her black art lulled to sleep the dragon +which guarded the fleece. They seized the pelt, boarded the Argo, +and sailed away, taking Medea with them. When her father followed +in pursuit, in the madness of her love for Jason she slew her +brother whom she had with her, and strewed the fragments of his +body upon the wave. The king stopped to recover them and give them +burial, and thus the Argonauts escaped. But the anger of the gods +at this horrible murder led the voyagers in expiation a wearisome +way homeward. For they sailed through the waters of the Adriatic, +the Nile, the circumfluous stream of the earth, passed Scylla and +Charybdis and the Island of the Sun, to Crete and Ægina and +many lands, before the Argo rode once more in Thessalian +waters.</p> +<p>The legend is one of the oldest and most familiar tales of +Greece. Whether it is all poetic myth, or had a certain foundation +in fact, it is impossible now to say. The date, the geography, the +heroes, are mythical; and as in the Homeric poems, the supernatural +and seeming historical are so blended that the union is +indissoluble by any analysis yet found. The theme has touched the +imagination of poets from the time of Apollonius Rhodius, who wrote +the 'Argonautica' and went to Alexandria B.C. 194 to take care of +the great library there, to William Morris, who published his 'Life +and Death of Jason' in 1867. Mr. Morris's version of the contest of +Orpheus with the Sirens is given to illustrate the reality of the +old legends to the Greeks themselves. Jason's later life, his +putting away of Medea, his marriage with Glauce, and the revenge of +the deserted princess, furnish the story of the greatest of the +plays of Euripides.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_VICTORY_OF_ORPHEUS"></a><b>THE +VICTORY OF ORPHEUS</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">From 'The Life and Death of Jason'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, happy seafarers are ye,</p> +<p class="i7">And surely all your ills are past,</p> +<p class="i6">And toil upon the land and sea,</p> +<p class="i7">Since ye are brought to us at last.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">To you the fashion of the world,</p> +<p class="i7">Wide lands laid waste, fair cities burned,</p> +<p class="i6">And plagues, and kings from kingdoms hurled,</p> +<p class="i7">Are naught, since hither ye have turned.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">For as upon this beach we stand,</p> +<p class="i7">And o'er our heads the sea-fowl flit,</p> +<p class="i6">Our eyes behold a glorious land,</p> +<p class="i7">And soon shall ye be kings of it.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">A little more, a little more,</p> +<p class="i7">O carriers of the Golden Fleece,</p> +<p class="i6">A little labor with the oar,</p> +<p class="i6">Before we reach the land of Greece.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">E'en now perchance faint rumors reach</p> +<p class="i7">Men's ears of this our victory,</p> +<p class="i6">And draw them down unto the beach</p> +<p class="i7">To gaze across the empty sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But since the longed-for day is nigh,</p> +<p class="i7">And scarce a god could stay us now,</p> +<p class="i6">Why do ye hang your heads and sigh,</p> +<p class="i7">And still go slower and more slow?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Ah, had ye chanced to reach the home</p> +<p class="i7">Your fond desires were set upon,</p> +<p class="i6">Into what troubles had ye come!</p> +<p class="i7">What barren victory had ye won!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But now, but now, when ye have lain</p> +<p class="i7">Asleep with us a little while</p> +<p class="i6">Beneath the washing of the main,</p> +<p class="i7">How calm shall be your waking smile!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">For ye shall smile to think of life</p> +<p class="i7">That knows no troublous change or fear,</p> +<p class="i6">No unavailing bitter strife,</p> +<p class="i7">That ere its time brings trouble near.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Is there some murmur in your ears,</p> +<p class="i7">That all that we have done is naught,</p> +<p class="i6">And nothing ends our cares and fears,</p> +<p class="i7">Till the last fear on us is brought?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Alas! and will ye stop your ears,</p> +<p class="i7">In vain desire to do aught,</p> +<p class="i6">And wish to live 'mid cares and fears,</p> +<p class="i7">Until the last fear makes you naught?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Is not the May-time now on earth,</p> +<p class="i7">When close against the city wall</p> +<p class="i6">The folk are singing in their mirth,</p> +<p class="i7">While on their heads the May flowers fall?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Yes, May is come, and its sweet breath</p> +<p class="i7">Shall well-nigh make you weep to-day,</p> +<p class="i6">And pensive with swift-coming death</p> +<p class="i7">Shall ye be satiate of the May.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Shall not July bring fresh delight,</p> +<p class="i7">As underneath green trees ye sit,</p> +<p class="i6">And o'er some damsel's body white,</p> +<p class="i7">The noon-tide shadows change and flit?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">No new delight July shall bring,</p> +<p class="i7">But ancient fear and fresh desire;</p> +<p class="i6">And spite of every lovely thing,</p> +<p class="i7">Of July surely shall ye tire.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">And now when August comes on thee,</p> +<p class="i7">And 'mid the golden sea of corn</p> +<p class="i6">The merry reapers thou mayst see,</p> +<p class="i7">Wilt thou still think the earth forlorn?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Set flowers on thy short-lived head,</p> +<p class="i7">And in thine heart forgetfulness</p> +<p class="i6">Of man's hard toil, and scanty bread,</p> +<p class="i7">And weary of those days no less.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Or wilt thou climb the sunny hill,</p> +<p class="i7">In the October afternoon,</p> +<p class="i6">To watch the purple earth's blood fill</p> +<p class="i7">The gray vat to the maiden's tune?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">When thou beginnest to grow old,</p> +<p class="i7">Bring back remembrance of thy bliss</p> +<p class="i6">With that the shining cup doth hold,</p> +<p class="i7">And weary helplessly of this.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Or pleasureless shall we pass by</p> +<p class="i7">The long cold night and leaden day,</p> +<p class="i6">That song and tale and minstrelsy</p> +<p class="i7">Shall make as merry as the May?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">List then, to-night, to some old tale</p> +<p class="i7">Until the tears o'erflow thine eyes;</p> +<p class="i6">But what shall all these things avail,</p> +<p class="i7">When sad to-morrow comes and dies?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">And when the world is born again,</p> +<p class="i7">And with some fair love, side by side,</p> +<p class="i6">Thou wanderest 'twixt the sun and rain,</p> +<p class="i7">In that fresh love-begetting tide;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then, when the world is born again,</p> +<p class="i7">And the sweet year before thee lies,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall thy heart think of coming pain,</p> +<p class="i7">Or vex itself with memories?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Ah! then the world is born again</p> +<p class="i7">With burning love unsatisfied,</p> +<p class="i6">And new desires fond and vain,</p> +<p class="i7">And weary days from tide to tide.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Ah! when the world is born again,</p> +<p class="i7">A little day is soon gone by,</p> +<p class="i6">When thou, unmoved by sun or rain,</p> +<p class="i7">Within a cold straight house shall lie.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Therewith they ceased awhile, as languidly</p> +<p class="i5">The head of Argo fell off toward the sea,</p> +<p class="i5">And through the water she began to go;</p> +<p class="i5">For from the land a fitful wind did blow,</p> +<p class="i5">That, dallying with the many-colored sail,</p> +<p class="i5">Would sometimes swell it out and sometimes fail,</p> +<p class="i5">As nigh the east side of the bay they drew;</p> +<p class="i5">Then o'er the waves again the music flew.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Think not of pleasure short and vain,</p> +<p class="i6">Wherewith, 'mid days of toil and pain,</p> +<p class="i6">With sick and sinking hearts ye strive</p> +<p class="i6">To cheat yourselves that ye may live</p> +<p class="i6">With cold death ever close at hand.</p> +<p class="i6">Think rather of a peaceful land,</p> +<p class="i6">The changeless land where ye may be</p> +<p class="i6">Roofed over by the changeful sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">And is the fair town nothing then,</p> +<p class="i6">The coming of the wandering men</p> +<p class="i6">With that long talked-of thing and strange.</p> +<p class="i6">And news of how the kingdoms change,</p> +<p class="i6">The pointed hands, and wondering</p> +<p class="i6">At doers of a desperate thing?</p> +<p class="i6">Push on, for surely this shall be</p> +<p class="i6">Across a narrow strip of sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Alas! poor souls and timorous,</p> +<p class="i6">Will ye draw nigh to gaze at us</p> +<p class="i6">And see if we are fair indeed?</p> +<p class="i6">For such as we shall be your meed,</p> +<p class="i6">There, where our hearts would have you go.</p> +<p class="i6">And where can the earth-dwellers show</p> +<p class="i6">In any land such loveliness</p> +<p class="i6">As that wherewith your eyes we bless,</p> +<p class="i6">O wanderers of the Minyæ,</p> +<p class="i6">Worn toilers over land and sea?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Fair as the lightning 'thwart the sky,</p> +<p class="i6">As sun-dyed snow upon the high</p> +<p class="i6">Untrodden heaps of threatening stone</p> +<p class="i6">The eagle looks upon alone,</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, fair as the doomed victim's wreath,</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, fair as deadly sleep and death,</p> +<p class="i6">What will ye with them, earthly men,</p> +<p class="i6">To mate your threescore years and ten?</p> +<p class="i6">Toil rather, suffer and be free,</p> +<p class="i6">Betwixt the green earth and the sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">If ye be bold with us to go,</p> +<p class="i6">Things such as happy dreams may show</p> +<p class="i6">Shall your once heavy lids behold</p> +<p class="i6">About our palaces of gold;</p> +<p class="i6">Where waters 'neath the waters run,</p> +<p class="i6">And from o'erhead a harmless sun</p> +<p class="i6">Gleams through the woods of chrysolite.</p> +<p class="i6">There gardens fairer to the sight</p> +<p class="i6">Than those of the Phæacian king</p> +<p class="i6">Shall ye behold; and, wondering,</p> +<p class="i6">Gaze on the sea-born fruit and flowers,</p> +<p class="i6">And thornless and unchanging bowers,</p> +<p class="i6">Whereof the May-time knoweth naught.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So to the pillared house being brought,</p> +<p class="i6">Poor souls, ye shall not be alone,</p> +<p class="i6">For o'er the floors of pale blue stone</p> +<p class="i6">All day such feet as ours shall pass,</p> +<p class="i6">And 'twixt the glimmering walls of glass,</p> +<p class="i6">Such bodies garlanded with gold,</p> +<p class="i6">So faint, so fair, shall ye behold,</p> +<p class="i6">And clean forget the treachery</p> +<p class="i6">Of changing earth and tumbling sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Oh the sweet valley of deep grass,</p> +<p class="i6">Where through the summer stream doth pass,</p> +<p class="i6">In chain of shadow, and still pool,</p> +<p class="i6">From misty morn to evening cool;</p> +<p class="i6">Where the black ivy creeps and twines</p> +<p class="i6">O'er the dark-armed, red-trunkèd pines.</p> +<p class="i6">Whence clattering the pigeon flits,</p> +<p class="i6">Or brooding o'er her thin eggs sits,</p> +<p class="i6">And every hollow of the hills</p> +<p class="i6">With echoing song the mavis fills.</p> +<p class="i6">There by the stream, all unafraid,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall stand the happy shepherd maid,</p> +<p class="i6">Alone in first of sunlit hours;</p> +<p class="i6">Behind her, on the dewy flowers,</p> +<p class="i6">Her homespun woolen raiment lies,</p> +<p class="i6">And her white limbs and sweet gray eyes</p> +<p class="i6">Shine from the calm green pool and deep,</p> +<p class="i6">While round about the swallows sweep,</p> +<p class="i6">Not silent; and would God that we,</p> +<p class="i6">Like them, were landed from the sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Shall we not rise with you at night,</p> +<p class="i6">Up through the shimmering green twilight,</p> +<p class="i6">That maketh there our changeless day,</p> +<p class="i6">Then going through the moonlight gray,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall we not sit upon these sands,</p> +<p class="i6">To think upon the troublous lands</p> +<p class="i6">Long left behind, where once ye were,</p> +<p class="i6">When every day brought change and fear!</p> +<p class="i6">There, with white arms about you twined,</p> +<p class="i6">And shuddering somewhat at the wind</p> +<p class="i6">That ye rejoiced erewhile to meet,</p> +<p class="i6">Be happy, while old stories sweet,</p> +<p class="i6">Half understood, float round your ears,</p> +<p class="i6">And fill your eyes with happy tears.</p> +<p class="i6">Ah! while we sing unto you there,</p> +<p class="i6">As now we sing, with yellow hair</p> +<p class="i6">Blown round about these pearly limbs,</p> +<p class="i6">While underneath the gray sky swims</p> +<p class="i6">The light shell-sailor of the waves,</p> +<p class="i6">And to our song, from sea-filled caves</p> +<p class="i6">Booms out an echoing harmony,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall ye not love the peaceful sea?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Nigh the vine-covered hillocks green,</p> +<p class="i6">In days agone, have I not seen</p> +<p class="i6">The brown-clad maidens amorous,</p> +<p class="i6">Below the long rose-trellised house,</p> +<p class="i6">Dance to the querulous pipe and shrill,</p> +<p class="i6">When the gray shadow of the hill</p> +<p class="i6">Was lengthening at the end of day?</p> +<p class="i6">Not shadowy or pale were they,</p> +<p class="i6">But limbed like those who 'twixt the trees</p> +<p class="i6">Follow the swift of goddesses.</p> +<p class="i6">Sunburnt they are somewhat, indeed,</p> +<p class="i6">To where the rough brown woolen weed</p> +<p class="i6">Is drawn across their bosoms sweet,</p> +<p class="i6">Or cast from off their dancing feet;</p> +<p class="i6">But yet the stars, the moonlight gray,</p> +<p class="i6">The water wan, the dawn of day,</p> +<p class="i6">Can see their bodies fair and white</p> +<p class="i6">As hers, who once, for man's delight,</p> +<p class="i6">Before the world grew hard and old,</p> +<p class="i6">Came o'er the bitter sea and cold;</p> +<p class="i6">And surely those that met me there</p> +<p class="i6">Her handmaidens and subjects were;</p> +<p class="i6">And shame-faced, half-repressed desire</p> +<p class="i6">Had lit their glorious eyes with fire,</p> +<p class="i6">That maddens eager hearts of men.</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, would that I were with them when</p> +<p class="i6">The risen moon is gathering light,</p> +<p class="i6">And yellow from the homestead white</p> +<p class="i6">The windows gleam; but verily</p> +<p class="i6">This waits us o'er a little sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens:</i></p> +<p class="i6">Come to the land where none grows old,</p> +<p class="i6">And none is rash or over-bold</p> +<p class="i6">Nor any noise there is or war,</p> +<p class="i6">Or rumor from wild lands afar,</p> +<p class="i6">Or plagues, or birth and death of kings;</p> +<p class="i6">No vain desire of unknown things</p> +<p class="i6">Shall vex you there, no hope or fear</p> +<p class="i6">Of that which never draweth near;</p> +<p class="i6">But in that lovely land and still</p> +<p class="i6">Ye may remember what ye will,</p> +<p class="i6">And what ye will, forget for aye.</p> +<p class="i6">So while the kingdoms pass away,</p> +<p class="i6">Ye sea-beat hardened toilers erst,</p> +<p class="i6">Unresting, for vain fame athirst,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall be at peace for evermore,</p> +<p class="i6">With hearts fulfilled of Godlike lore,</p> +<p class="i6">And calm, unwavering Godlike love,</p> +<p class="i6">No lapse of time can turn or move.</p> +<p class="i6">There, ages after your fair fleece</p> +<p class="i6">Is clean forgotten, yea, and Greece</p> +<p class="i6">Is no more counted glorious,</p> +<p class="i6">Alone with us, alone with us,</p> +<p class="i6">Alone with us, dwell happily,</p> +<p class="i6">Beneath our trembling roof of sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Ah! do ye weary of the strife,</p> +<p class="i6">And long to change this eager life</p> +<p class="i6">For shadowy and dull hopelessness,</p> +<p class="i6">Thinking indeed to gain no less</p> +<p class="i6">Than this, to die, and not to die,</p> +<p class="i6">To be as if ye ne'er had been,</p> +<p class="i6">Yet keep your memory fresh and green,</p> +<p class="i6">To have no thought of good or ill,</p> +<p class="i6">Yet keep some thrilling pleasure still?</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, idle dream! Ah, verily</p> +<p class="i6">If it shall happen unto me</p> +<p class="i6">That I have thought of anything,</p> +<p class="i6">When o'er my bones the sea-fowl sing,</p> +<p class="i6">And I lie dead, how shall I pine</p> +<p class="i6">For those fresh joys that once were mine,</p> +<p class="i6">On this green fount of joy and mirth,</p> +<p class="i6">The ever young and glorious earth;</p> +<p class="i6">Then, helpless, shall I call to mind</p> +<p class="i6">Thoughts of the flower-scented wind,</p> +<p class="i6">The dew, the gentle rain at night,</p> +<p class="i6">The wonder-working snow and white,</p> +<p class="i6">The song of birds, the water's fall,</p> +<p class="i6">The sun that maketh bliss of all;</p> +<p class="i6">Yea, this our toil and victory,</p> +<p class="i6">The tyrannous and conquered sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>The Sirens</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Ah, will ye go, and whither then</p> +<p class="i7">Will ye go from us, soon to die,</p> +<p class="i6">To fill your threescore years and ten</p> +<p class="i7">With many an unnamed misery?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And this the wretchedest of all,</p> +<p class="i7">That when upon your lonely eyes</p> +<p class="i6">The last faint heaviness shall fall,</p> +<p class="i7">Ye shall bethink you of our cries.</p> +<p class="i6">Come back, nor, grown old, seek in vain</p> +<p class="i7">To hear us sing across the sea;</p> +<p class="i6">Come back, come back, come back again,</p> +<p class="i7">Come back, O fearful Minyæ!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>Orpheus</i>:</p> +<p class="i6">Ah, once again, ah, once again,</p> +<p class="i7">The black prow plunges through the sea;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor yet shall all your toil be vain,</p> +<p class="i7">Nor ye forget, O Minyæ!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="LUDOVICO_ARIOSTO"></a>LUDOVICO ARIOSTO</h2> +<h3>(1474-1533)</h3> +<h3>BY L. OSCAR KUHNS</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>mong the smaller principalities of Italy during the fifteenth +and sixteenth centuries, none was more brilliant than the court of +Ferrara, and none more intimately connected with the literature of +the times. Here, on September 8th, 1474, was born Ludovico Ariosto, +the great poet of the Renaissance. Here, like Boiardo before him +and Tasso after him, he lived and wrote; and it was to the family +of Este that he dedicated that poem in which are seen, as in a +mirror, the gay life, the intellectual brilliancy, and the sensuous +love for beauty which mark the age. At seventeen he began the study +of the law, which he soon abandoned for the charms of letters. Most +of his life was passed in the service first of Cardinal d'Este, and +afterward of the Duke of Ferrara. But the courtier never overcame +the poet, who is said to have begun the famous 'Orlando Furioso' at +the age of thirty, and never to have ceased the effort to improve +it.</p> +<p>The literary activity of Ariosto showed itself in the +composition of comedies and satires, as well as in that of his +immortal epic. The comedies were written for the court theatre of +Ferrara, to which he seems to have had some such relation as that +of Goethe to the theatre at Weimar. The later comedies are much +better than the early ones, which are but little more than +translations from Plautus and Terence. In general, however, the +efforts of Ariosto in this direction are far less important than +the 'Orlando' or the 'Satires.' At the first appearance of his +plays they were enormously successful, and the poet was hailed as a +great dramatic genius. But these comedies are interesting to-day +chiefly from the fact that Ariosto was one of the very first of the +writers of modern comedy, and was the leader of that movement in +Italy and France which prepared the way for Molière.</p> +<p>Of more importance than the comedies, and second only in +interest to the 'Orlando' are the 'Satires' seven in number, the +first written in 1517 and the last in 1531, thus representing the +maturer life of the poet. Nearly everything we know of Ariosto's +character is taken from this source. He reveals himself in them as +a man who excites neither our highest admiration nor our contempt. +He was not born to be a statesman, nor a courtier, nor a man of +affairs; and his life as ambassador of Cardinal Ippolito, and as +captain of Garafagno, was not at all to his liking. His one longing +through all the busy years of his life was for a quiet home, where +he could live in liberty and enjoy the comforts of cultured +leisure. A love of independence was a marked trait of his +character, and it must often have galled him to play the part he +did at the court of Ferrara. As a satirist he was no Juvenal or +Persius. He was not stirred to profound indignation by the evils +about him, of which there were enough in that brilliant but corrupt +age. He discussed in easy, familiar style, the foibles of his +fellow-men, and especially the events of his own life and the +traits of his own character.</p> +<p>The same views of life, the same tolerant temper, which are seen +in the 'Satires,' form an important part of the 'Orlando Furioso,' +where they take the form of little dissertations, introduced at the +beginning of a canto, or scattered through the body of the poem. +These reflections are full of practical sense and wisdom, and +remind us of the familiar conversation with the reader which forms +so great a charm in Thackeray's novels.</p> +<p>In the Italian Renaissance there is a curious mingling of +classical and romantic influences, and the generation which gave +itself up passionately to the study of Greek and Latin still read +with delight the stories of the Paladins of Charlemagne and the +Knights of the Round Table. What Sir Thomas Malory had done in +English prose, Boiardo did in Latin poetry. When Ariosto entered +the service of Cardinal Ippolito, every one was reading the +'Orlando Innamorato,' and the young poet soon fell under the charm +of these stories; so that when the inward impulse which all great +poets feel toward the work of creation came to him, he took the +material already at hand and continued the story of 'Orlando.' With +a certain skill and inventiveness, Boiardo had mingled together the +epic cycles of Arthur and Charlemagne. He had shown the Saracen +host under King Agramante driving the army of Charlemagne before +them, until the Christians had finally been shut up within the +walls of Paris. It was at this critical moment in his poem that +Boiardo died. Ariosto took up the story where he had left it, and +carried it on until the final defeat of Agramante, and his death at +the hands of Orlando in the desert island.</p> +<a name="illus0742.jpg"></a><br> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0742.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>But we must not think that the 'Orlando Furioso' has one +definite plot. At first reading we are confused by the multiplicity +of incident, by the constant change of scene, and by the breaking +off of one story to make place for another. In a single canto the +scene changes from France to Africa, and by means of winged horses +tremendous distances are traveled over in a day. On closer +examination we find that this confusion is only apparent. The poet +himself is never confused, but with sure hand he manipulates the +many-colored threads which are wrought into the fabric of the poem. +The war between the Saracens and the Christians is a sort of +background or stage; a rallying point for the characters. In +reality it attracts but slightly our attention or interest. Again, +Orlando's love for Angelica, and his madness,--although the latter +gave the title to the book, and both afford some of the finest +episodes,--have no organic connection with the whole. The real +subject, if any there be, is the loves of Ruggiero and Bradamante. +These are the supposed ancestors of the house of Este, and it is +with their final union, after many vicissitudes, that the poem +ends.</p> +<p>But the real purpose of Ariosto was to amuse the reader by +countless stories of romantic adventure. It was not as a great +creative genius, as the inventor of new characters, as the earnest +and philosophical reformer, that he appears to mankind, but as the +supreme artist. Ariosto represents in its highest development that +love for form, that perfection of style, which is characteristic of +the Latin races as distinguished from the Teutonic. It is this that +makes the 'Orlando Furioso' the great epic of the Renaissance, and +that caused Galileo to bestow upon the poet the epithet +"divine."</p> +<p>For nearly thirty years Ariosto changed and polished these +lines, so that the edition of 1532 is quite different from that of +1516. The stanzas in which the poem is written are smooth and +musical, the language is so chosen as always to express the exact +shade of thought, the interest never flags. What seems the +arbitrary breaking off of a story before its close is really the +art of the poet; for he knows, were each episode to be told by +itself, we should have only a string of <i>novelle</i>, and not the +picture he desired to paint,--that of the world of chivalry, with +its knights-errant in search of adventures, its damsels in +distress, its beautiful gardens and lordly palaces, its hermits and +magicians, its hippogriffs and dragons, and all the paraphernalia +of magic art.</p> +<p>Ariosto's treatment of chivalry is peculiar to himself. Spenser +in the sixteenth century, and Lord Tennyson in our own day, +pictured its virtues and noble aspirations. In his immortal 'Don +Quixote,' Cervantes held its extravagances up to ridicule. In +Ariosto's day no one believed any longer in the heroes or the +ideals of chivalry, nor did the poet himself; hence there is an air +of unreality about the poem. The figures that pass before us, +although they have certain characteristics of their own, are not +real beings, but those that dwell in a land of fancy. As the poet +tells these stories of a bygone age, a smile of irony plays upon +his face; he cannot take them seriously; and while he never goes so +far as to turn into ridicule the ideals of chivalry, yet, in such +episodes as the prodigious exploits of Rodomonte within the walls +of Paris, and the voyage of Astolfo to the moon, he does approach +dangerously near to the burlesque.</p> +<p>We are not inspired by large and noble thoughts in reading the +'Orlando Furioso.' We are not deeply stirred by pity or terror. No +lofty principles are inculcated. Even the pathetic scenes, such as +the death of Zerbino and Isabella, stir no real emotion in us, but +we experience a sense of the artistic effect of a poetic death.</p> +<p>It is not often, in these days of the making of many books of +which there is no end, that one has time to read a poem which is +longer than the 'Iliad' and the 'Odyssey' together. But there is a +compelling charm about the 'Orlando,' and he who sits down to read +it with serious purpose will soon find himself under the spell of +an attraction which comes from unflagging interest and from +perfection of style and construction. No translation can convey an +adequate sense of this beauty of color and form; but the versions +of William Stewart Rose, here cited, suggest the energy, invention, +and intensity of the epic.</p> +<p>In 1532 Ariosto published his final edition of the poem, now +enlarged to forty-six cantos, and retouched from beginning to end. +He died not long afterward, in 1533, and was buried in the church +of San Benedetto, where a magnificent monument marks his +resting-place.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-284.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name= +"THE_FRIENDSHIP_OF_MEDORO_AND_CLORIDANE"></a> <b>THE FRIENDSHIP OF +MEDORO AND CLORIDANE</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From 'Orlando Furioso,' Cantos 18 and 19</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Two Moors among the Paynim army were,</p> +<p class="i7">From stock obscure in Ptolomita grown;</p> +<p class="i6">Of whom the story, an example rare</p> +<p class="i7">Of constant love, is worthy to be known.</p> +<p class="i6">Medore and Cloridane were named the pair;</p> +<p class="i7">Who, whether Fortune pleased to smile or frown,</p> +<p class="i6">Served Dardinello with fidelity,</p> +<p class="i6">And late with him to France had crost the sea.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Of nimble frame and strong was Cloridane,</p> +<p class="i7">Throughout his life a follower of the chase.</p> +<p class="i6">A cheek of white, suffused with crimson grain,</p> +<p class="i7">Medoro had, in youth, a pleasing grace;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor bound on that emprize, 'mid all the train,</p> +<p class="i7">Was there a fairer or more jocund face.</p> +<p class="i6">Crisp hair he had of gold, and jet-black eyes;</p> +<p class="i6">And seemed an angel lighted from the skies.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">These two were posted on a rampart's height,</p> +<p class="i7">With more to guard the encampment from surprise,</p> +<p class="i6">When 'mid the equal intervals, at night,</p> +<p class="i7">Medoro gazed on heaven with sleepy eyes.</p> +<p class="i6">In all his talk, the stripling, woeful wight,</p> +<p class="i7">Here cannot choose, but of his lord devise,</p> +<p class="i6">The royal Dardinel; and evermore</p> +<p class="i6">Him left unhonored on the field, deplore.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then, turning to his mate, cries, "Cloridane,</p> +<p class="i7">I cannot tell thee what a cause of woe</p> +<p class="i6">It is to me, my lord upon the plain</p> +<p class="i7">Should lie, unworthy food for wolf or crow!</p> +<p class="i6">Thinking how still to me he was humane,</p> +<p class="i7">Meseems, if in his honor I forego</p> +<p class="i6">This life of mine, for favors so immense</p> +<p class="i6">I shall but make a feeble recompense.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"That he may not lack sepulture, will I</p> +<p class="i7">Go forth, and seek him out among the slain;</p> +<p class="i6">And haply God may will that none shall spy</p> +<p class="i7">Where Charles's camp lies hushed. Do thou remain;</p> +<p class="i6">That, if my death be written in the sky,</p> +<p class="i7">Thou may'st the deed be able to explain.</p> +<p class="i6">So that if Fortune foil so far a feat,</p> +<p class="i6">The world, through Fame, my loving heart may +weet."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Amazed was Cloridane a child should show</p> +<p class="i7">Such heart, such love, and such fair loyalty;</p> +<p class="i6">And fain would make the youth his thought forego,</p> +<p class="i7">Whom he held passing dear: but fruitlessly</p> +<p class="i6">Would move his steadfast purpose; for such woe</p> +<p class="i7">Will neither comforted nor altered be.</p> +<p class="i6">Medoro is disposed to meet his doom,</p> +<p class="i6">Or to inclose his master in the tomb.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Seeing that naught would bend him, naught would +move,</p> +<p class="i7">"I too will go," was Cloridane's reply:</p> +<p class="i6">"In such a glorious act myself will prove;</p> +<p class="i7">As well such famous death I covet, I.</p> +<p class="i6">What other thing is left me, here above,</p> +<p class="i7">Deprived of thee, Medoro mine? To die</p> +<p class="i6">With thee in arms is better, on the plain,</p> +<p class="i6">Than afterwards of grief, shouldst thou be +slain."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And thus resolved, disposing in their place</p> +<p class="i7">Their guard's relief, depart the youthful pair,</p> +<p class="i6">Leave fosse and palisade, and in small space</p> +<p class="i7">Are among ours, who watch with little care;</p> +<p class="i6">Who, for they little fear the Paynim race,</p> +<p class="i7">Slumber with fires extinguished everywhere.</p> +<p class="i6">'Mid carriages and arms they lie supine,</p> +<p class="i6">Up to the eyes immersed in sleep and wine.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">A moment Cloridano stopt, and cried,</p> +<p class="i7">"Not to be lost are opportunities.</p> +<p class="i6">This troop, by whom my master's blood was shed,</p> +<p class="i7">Medoro, ought not I to sacrifice?</p> +<p class="i6">Do thou, lest any one this way be led,</p> +<p class="i7">Watch everywhere about, with ears and eyes;</p> +<p class="i6">For a wide way, amid the hostile horde,</p> +<p class="i6">I offer here to make thee with my sword."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So said he, and his talk cut quickly short,</p> +<p class="i7">Coming where learned Alpheus slumbered nigh;</p> +<p class="i6">Who had the year before sought Charles's court,</p> +<p class="i7">In med'cine, magic, and astrology</p> +<p class="i6">Well versed: but now in art found small support,</p> +<p class="i7">Or rather found that it was all a lie.</p> +<p class="i6">He had foreseen that he his long-drawn life</p> +<p class="i6">Should finish on the bosom of his wife.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And now the Saracen with wary view</p> +<p class="i7">Had pierced his weasand with the pointed sword.</p> +<p class="i6">Four others he near that Diviner slew,</p> +<p class="i7">Nor gave the wretches time to say a word.</p> +<p class="i6">Sir Turpin in his story tells not who,</p> +<p class="i7">And Time has of their names effaced record.</p> +<p class="i6">Palidon of Moncalier next he speeds;</p> +<p class="i6">One who securely sleeps between two steeds.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Rearing th' insidious blade, the pair are near</p> +<p class="i7">The place where round King Charles's pavilion</p> +<p class="i6">Are tented warlike paladin and peer,</p> +<p class="i7">Guarding the side that each is camped upon,</p> +<p class="i6">When in good time the Paynims backward steer,</p> +<p class="i7">And sheathe their swords, the impious slaughter +done;</p> +<p class="i6">Deeming impossible, in such a number,</p> +<p class="i6">But they must light on one who does not slumber.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And though they might escape well charged with +prey,</p> +<p class="i7">To save themselves they think sufficient gain.</p> +<p class="i6">Thither by what he deems the safest way</p> +<p class="i7">(Medoro following him) went Cloridane</p> +<p class="i6">Where in the field, 'mid bow and falchion lay,</p> +<p class="i7">And shield and spear, in pool of purple stain,</p> +<p class="i6">Wealthy and poor, the king and vassal's corse,</p> +<p class="i6">And overthrown the rider and his horse.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The silvery splendor glistened yet more clear,</p> +<p class="i7">There where renowned Almontes's son lay dead.</p> +<p class="i6">Faithful Medoro mourned his master dear,</p> +<p class="i7">Who well agnized the quartering white and red,</p> +<p class="i6">With visage bathed in many a bitter tear</p> +<p class="i7">(For he a rill from either eyelid shed),</p> +<p class="i6">And piteous act and moan, that might have whist</p> +<p class="i6">The winds, his melancholy plaint to list;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But with a voice supprest--not that he aught</p> +<p class="i7">Regards if any one the noise should hear,</p> +<p class="i6">Because he of his life takes any thought,</p> +<p class="i7">Of which loathed burden he would fain be clear;</p> +<p class="i6">But lest his being heard should bring to naught</p> +<p class="i7">The pious purpose which has brought them here--</p> +<p class="i6">The youths the king upon their shoulders stowed;</p> +<p class="i6">And so between themselves divide the load.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Hurrying their steps, they hastened, as they +might,</p> +<p class="i7">Under the cherished burden they conveyed;</p> +<p class="i6">And now approaching was the lord of light,</p> +<p class="i7">To sweep from heaven the stars, from earth the +shade,</p> +<p class="i6">When good Zerbino, he whose valiant sprite</p> +<p class="i7">Was ne'er in time of need by sleep down-weighed,</p> +<p class="i6">From chasing Moors all night, his homeward way</p> +<p class="i6">Was taking to the camp at dawn of day.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">He has with him some horsemen in his train,</p> +<p class="i7">That from afar the two companions spy.</p> +<p class="i6">Expecting thus some spoil or prize to gain,</p> +<p class="i7">They, every one, toward that quarter hie.</p> +<p class="i6">"Brother, behoves us," cried young Cloridane,</p> +<p class="i7">"To cast away the load we bear, and fly;</p> +<p class="i6">For 'twere a foolish thought (might well be said)</p> +<p class="i6">To lose <i>two</i> living men, to save <i>one</i> +dead;"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And dropt the burden, weening his Medore</p> +<p class="i7">Had done the same by it, upon his side;</p> +<p class="i6">But that poor boy, who loved his master more,</p> +<p class="i7">His shoulders to the weight alone applied:</p> +<p class="i6">Cloridane hurrying with all haste before,</p> +<p class="i7">Deeming him close behind him or beside;</p> +<p class="i6">Who, did he know his danger, him to save</p> +<p class="i6">A thousand deaths, instead of one, would brave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The closest path, amid the forest gray,</p> +<p class="i7">To save himself, pursued the youth forlorn;</p> +<p class="i6">But all his schemes were marred by the delay</p> +<p class="i7">Of that sore weight upon his shoulders borne.</p> +<p class="i6">The place he knew not, and mistook the way,</p> +<p class="i7">And hid himself again in sheltering thorn.</p> +<p class="i6">Secure and distant was his mate, that through</p> +<p class="i6">The greenwood shade with lighter shoulders flew.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So far was Cloridane advanced before,</p> +<p class="i7">He heard the boy no longer in the wind;</p> +<p class="i6">But when he marked the absence of Medore,</p> +<p class="i7">It seemed as if his heart was left behind.</p> +<p class="i6">"Ah! how was I so negligent," (the Moor</p> +<p class="i7">Exclaimed) "so far beside myself, and blind,</p> +<p class="i6">That, I, Medoro, should without thee fare,</p> +<p class="i6">Nor know when I deserted thee or where?"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So saying, in the wood he disappears,</p> +<p class="i7">Plunging into the maze with hurried pace;</p> +<p class="i6">And thither, whence he lately issued, steers,</p> +<p class="i7">And, desperate, of death returns in trace.</p> +<p class="i6">Cries and the tread of steeds this while he +hears,</p> +<p class="i7">And word and threat of foeman, as in chase;</p> +<p class="i6">Lastly Medoro by his voice is known,</p> +<p class="i6">Disarmed, on foot, 'mid many horse, alone.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">A hundred horsemen who the youth surround,</p> +<p class="i7">Zerbino leads, and bids his followers seize</p> +<p class="i6">The stripling; like a top the boy turns round</p> +<p class="i6">And keeps him as he can: among the trees,</p> +<p class="i6">Behind oak, elm, beech, ash, he takes his ground,</p> +<p class="i7">Nor from the cherished load his shoulders frees.</p> +<p class="i6">Wearied, at length, the burden he bestowed</p> +<p class="i6">Upon the grass, and stalked about his load.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">As in her rocky cavern the she-bear,</p> +<p class="i7">With whom close warfare Alpine hunters wage,</p> +<p class="i6">Uncertain hangs about her shaggy care,</p> +<p class="i7">And growls in mingled sound of love and rage,</p> +<p class="i6">To unsheath her claws, and blood her tushes bare,</p> +<p class="i7">Would natural hate and wrath the beast engage;</p> +<p class="i6">Love softens her, and bids from strife retire,</p> +<p class="i6">And for her offspring watch, amid her ire.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Cloridane, who to aid him knows not how,</p> +<p class="i7">And with Medoro willingly would die,</p> +<p class="i6">But who would not for death this being forego,</p> +<p class="i7">Until more foes than one should lifeless lie,</p> +<p class="i6">Ambushed, his sharpest arrow to his bow</p> +<p class="i7">Fits, and directs it with so true an eye,</p> +<p class="i6">The feathered weapon bores a Scotchman's brain,</p> +<p class="i6">And lays the warrior dead upon the plain.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Together, all the others of the band</p> +<p class="i7">Turned thither, whence was shot the murderous +reed;</p> +<p class="i6">Meanwhile he launched another from his stand,</p> +<p class="i7">That a new foe might by the weapon bleed,</p> +<p class="i6">Whom (while he made of <i>this</i> and <i>that</i> +demand,</p> +<p class="i7">And loudly questioned who had done the deed)</p> +<p class="i6">The arrow reached--transfixed the wretch's throat</p> +<p class="i6">And cut his question short in middle note.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Zerbino, captain of those horse, no more</p> +<p class="i7">Can at the piteous sight his wrath refrain;</p> +<p class="i6">In furious heat he springs, upon Medore,</p> +<p class="i7">Exclaiming, "Thou of this shalt bear the pain."</p> +<p class="i6">One hand he in his locks of golden ore</p> +<p class="i7">Enwreaths, and drags him to himself amain;</p> +<p class="i6">But as his eyes that beauteous face survey,</p> +<p class="i6">Takes pity on the boy, and does not slay.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">To him the stripling turns, with suppliant cry,</p> +<p class="i7">And, "By thy God, sir knight," exclaims, "I pray,</p> +<p class="i6">Be not so passing cruel, nor deny</p> +<p class="i7">That I in earth my honored king may lay:</p> +<p class="i6">No other grace I supplicate, nor I</p> +<p class="i7">This for the love of life, believe me, say.</p> +<p class="i6">So much, no longer, space of life I crave,</p> +<p class="i6">As may suffice to give my lord a grave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"And if you needs must feed the beast and bird,</p> +<p class="i7">Like Theban Creon, let their worst be done</p> +<p class="i6">Upon these limbs; so that by me interred</p> +<p class="i7">In earth be those of good Almontes's son."</p> +<p class="i6">Medoro thus his suit, with grace, preferred,</p> +<p class="i7">And words to move a mountain; and so won</p> +<p class="i6">Upon Zerbino's mood, to kindness turned,</p> +<p class="i6">With love and pity he all over burned.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">This while, a churlish horseman of the band,</p> +<p class="i7">Who little deference for his lord confest,</p> +<p class="i6">His lance uplifting, wounded overhand</p> +<p class="i7">The unhappy suppliant in his dainty breast.</p> +<p class="i6">Zerbino, who the cruel action scanned,</p> +<p class="i7">Was deeply stirred, the rather that, opprest,</p> +<p class="i6">And livid with the blow the churl had sped,</p> +<p class="i6">Medoro fell as he was wholly dead.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The Scots pursue their chief, who pricks before,</p> +<p class="i7">Through the deep wood, inspired by high disdain,</p> +<p class="i6">When he has left the one and the other Moor,</p> +<p class="i7"><i>This</i> dead, <i>that</i> scarce alive, upon the +plain.</p> +<p class="i6">There for a mighty space lay young Medore,</p> +<p class="i7">Spouting his life-blood from so large a vein</p> +<p class="i6">He would have perished, but that thither made</p> +<p class="i6">A stranger, as it chanced, who lent him aid.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_SAVING_OF_MEDORO"></a> <b>THE +SAVING OF MEDORO</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'Orlando Furioso,' Canto 19</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">By chance arrived a damsel at the place,</p> +<p class="i7">Who was (though mean and rustic was her wear)</p> +<p class="i6">Of royal presence and of beauteous face,</p> +<p class="i7">And lofty manners, sagely debonnair.</p> +<p class="i6">Her have I left unsung so long a space,</p> +<p class="i7">That you will hardly recognize the fair</p> +<p class="i6">Angelica: in her (if known not) scan</p> +<p class="i6">The lofty daughter of Catay's great khan.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Angelica, when she had won again</p> +<p class="i7">The ring Brunello had from her conveyed,</p> +<p class="i6">So waxed in stubborn pride and haught disdain,</p> +<p class="i7">She seemed to scorn this ample world, and strayed</p> +<p class="i6">Alone, and held as cheap each living swain,</p> +<p class="i7">Although amid the best by fame arrayed;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor brooked she to remember a gallant</p> +<p class="i6">In Count Orlando or King Sacripant:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And above every other deed repented,</p> +<p class="i7">That good Rinaldo she had loved of yore;</p> +<p class="i6">And that to look so low she had consented,</p> +<p class="i7">(As by such choice dishonored) grieved her sore.</p> +<p class="i6">Love, hearing this, such arrogance resented,</p> +<p class="i7">And would the damsel's pride endure no more.</p> +<p class="i6">Where young Medoro lay he took his stand,</p> +<p class="i6">And waited her, with bow and shaft in hand.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">When fair Angelica the stripling spies,</p> +<p class="i7">Nigh hurt to death in that disastrous fray,</p> +<p class="i6">Who for his king, that there unsheltered lies,</p> +<p class="i7">More sad than for his own misfortune lay,</p> +<p class="i6">She feels new pity in her bosom rise,</p> +<p class="i7">Which makes its entry in unwonted way.</p> +<p class="i6">Touched was her naughty heart, once hard and +curst,</p> +<p class="i6">And more when he his piteous tale rehearsed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And calling back to memory her art,</p> +<p class="i7">For she in Ind had learned chirurgery,</p> +<p class="i6">(Since it appears such studies in that part</p> +<p class="i7">Worthy of praise and fame are held to be,</p> +<p class="i6">And, as an heirloom, sires to sons impart,</p> +<p class="i7">With little aid of books, the mystery,)</p> +<p class="i6">Disposed herself to work with simples' juice,</p> +<p class="i6">Till she in him should healthier life produce.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And recollects an herb had caught her sight</p> +<p class="i7">In passing thither, on a pleasant plain:</p> +<p class="i6">What (whether dittany or pancy hight)</p> +<p class="i7">I know not; fraught with virtue to restrain</p> +<p class="i6">The crimson blood forth-welling, and of might</p> +<p class="i7">To sheathe each perilous and piercing pain.</p> +<p class="i6">She found it near, and having pulled the weed,</p> +<p class="i6">Returned to seek Medoro on the mead.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Returning, she upon a swain did light,</p> +<p class="i7">Who was on horseback passing through the wood.</p> +<p class="i6">Strayed from the lowing herd, the rustic wight</p> +<p class="i7">A heifer missing for two days pursued.</p> +<p class="i6">Him she with her conducted, where the might</p> +<p class="i7">Of the faint youth was ebbing with his blood:</p> +<p class="i6">Which had the ground about so deeply dyed</p> +<p class="i6">Life was nigh wasted with the gushing tide.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Angelica alights upon the ground,</p> +<p class="i7">And he, her rustic comrade, at her best.</p> +<p class="i6">She hastened 'twixt two stones the herb to pound,</p> +<p class="i7">Then took it, and the healing juice exprest:</p> +<p class="i6">With this did she foment the stripling's wound,</p> +<p class="i7">And even to the hips, his waist and breast;</p> +<p class="i6">And (with such virtue was the salve endued)</p> +<p class="i6">It stanched his life-blood, and his strength +renewed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And into him infused such force again,</p> +<p class="i7">That he could mount the horse the swain conveyed;</p> +<p class="i6">But good Medoro would not leave the plain</p> +<p class="i7">Till he in earth had seen his master laid.</p> +<p class="i6">He, with the monarch, buried Cloridane,</p> +<p class="i7">And after followed whither pleased the maid.</p> +<p class="i6">Who was to stay with him, by pity led,</p> +<p class="i6">Beneath the courteous shepherd's humble shed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Nor would the damsel quit the lowly pile</p> +<p class="i7">(So she esteemed the youth) till he was sound;</p> +<p class="i6">Such pity first she felt, when him erewhile</p> +<p class="i7">She saw outstretched and bleeding on the ground.</p> +<p class="i6">Touched by his mien and manners next, a file</p> +<p class="i7">She felt corrode her heart with secret wound;</p> +<p class="i6">She felt corrode her heart, and with desire,</p> +<p class="i6">By little and by little warmed, took fire.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The shepherd dwelt between two mountains hoar,</p> +<p class="i7">In goodly cabin, in the greenwood shade,</p> +<p class="i6">With wife and children; in short time before,</p> +<p class="i7">The brand-new shed had builded in the glade.</p> +<p class="i6">Here of his grisly wound the youthful Moor</p> +<p class="i7">Was briefly healed by the Catayan maid;</p> +<p class="i6">But who in briefer space, a sorer smart</p> +<p class="i6">Than young Medoro's, suffered at her heart.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<p>[She pines for love of him, and at length makes her love known. +They solemnize their marriage, and remain a month there with great +happiness.]</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Amid such pleasures, where, with tree o'ergrown,</p> +<p class="i7">Ran stream, or bubbling fountain's wave did spin,</p> +<p class="i6">On bark or rock, if yielding were the stone,</p> +<p class="i7">The knife was straight at work, or ready pin.</p> +<p class="i6">And there, without, in thousand places lone,</p> +<p class="i7">And in as many places graved, within,</p> +<p class="i6">Medoro and Angelica were traced,</p> +<p class="i6">In divers ciphers quaintly interlaced.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">When she believed they had prolonged their stay</p> +<p class="i7">More than enow, the damsel made design</p> +<p class="i6">In India to revisit her Catay,</p> +<p class="i7">And with its crown Medoro's head entwine.</p> +<p class="i6">She had upon her wrist an armlet, gay</p> +<p class="i7">With costly gems, in witness and in sign</p> +<p class="i6">Of love to her by Count Orlando borne,</p> +<p class="i6">And which the damsel for long time had worn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">No love which to the paladin she bears,</p> +<p class="i7">But that it costly is and wrought with care,</p> +<p class="i6">This to Angelica so much endears,</p> +<p class="i7">That never more esteemed was matter rare;</p> +<p class="i6">This she was suffered, in the isle of tears,</p> +<p class="i7">I know not by what privilege, to wear,</p> +<p class="i6">When, naked, to the whale exposed for food</p> +<p class="i6">By that inhospitable race and rude.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">She, not possessing wherewithal to pay</p> +<p class="i7">The kindly couple's hospitality,--</p> +<p class="i6">Served by them in their cabin, from the day</p> +<p class="i7">She there was lodged, with such fidelity,--</p> +<p class="i6">Unfastened from her arm the bracelet gay,</p> +<p class="i7">And bade them keep it for her memory.</p> +<p class="i6">Departing hence, the lovers climb the side</p> +<p class="i6">Of hills, which fertile France from Spain divide.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_MADNESS_OF_ORLANDO"></a> <b>THE +MADNESS OF ORLANDO</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'Orlando Furioso,' Canto 23</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The course in pathless woods, which without rein</p> +<p class="i7">The Tartar's charger had pursued astray,</p> +<p class="i6">Made Roland for two days, with fruitless pain,</p> +<p class="i7">Follow him, without tidings of his way.</p> +<p class="i6">Orlando reached a rill of crystal vein,</p> +<p class="i7">On either bank of which a meadow lay;</p> +<p class="i6">Which, stained with native hues and rich, he +sees,</p> +<p class="i6">And dotted o'er with fair and many trees.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The mid-day fervor made the shelter sweet</p> +<p class="i7">To hardy herd as well as naked swain:</p> +<p class="i6">So that Orlando well beneath the heat</p> +<p class="i7">Some deal might wince, opprest with plate and +chain.</p> +<p class="i6">He entered for repose the cool retreat,</p> +<p class="i7">And found it the abode of grief and pain;</p> +<p class="i6">And place of sojourn more accursed and fell</p> +<p class="i6">On that unhappy day, than tongue can tell.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Turning him round, he there on many a tree</p> +<p class="i7">Beheld engraved, upon the woody shore,</p> +<p class="i6">What as the writing of his deity</p> +<p class="i7">He knew, as soon as he had marked the lore.</p> +<p class="i6">This was a place of those described by me,</p> +<p class="i7">Whither oft-times, attended by Medore,</p> +<p class="i6">From the near shepherd's cot had wont to stray</p> +<p class="i6">The beauteous lady, sovereign of Catay.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">In a hundred knots, amid these green abodes,</p> +<p class="i7">In a hundred parts, their ciphered names are +dight;</p> +<p class="i6">Whose many letters are so many goads,</p> +<p class="i7">Which Love has in his bleeding heart-core pight.</p> +<p class="i6">He would discredit in a thousand modes,</p> +<p class="i7">That which he credits in his own despite;</p> +<p class="i6">And would perforce persuade himself, <i>that</i> +rind</p> +<p class="i6">Other Angelica than his had signed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"And yet I know these characters," he cried,</p> +<p class="i7">"Of which I have so many read and seen;</p> +<p class="i6">By her may this Medoro be belied,</p> +<p class="i7">And me, she, figured in the name, may mean."</p> +<p class="i6">Feeding on such like phantasies, beside</p> +<p class="i7">The real truth, did sad Orlando lean</p> +<p class="i6">Upon the empty hope, though ill contented,</p> +<p class="i6">Which he by self-illusions had fomented.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But stirred and aye rekindled it, the more</p> +<p class="i7">That he to quench the ill suspicion wrought,</p> +<p class="i6">Like the incautious bird, by fowler's lore,</p> +<p class="i7">Hampered in net or lime; which, in the thought</p> +<p class="i6">To free its tangled pinions and to soar,</p> +<p class="i7">By struggling is but more securely caught.</p> +<p class="i6">Orlando passes thither, where a mountain</p> +<p class="i6">O'erhangs in guise of arch the crystal fountain.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Here from his horse the sorrowing county lit,</p> +<p class="i7">And at the entrance of the grot surveyed</p> +<p class="i6">A cloud of words, which seemed but newly writ,</p> +<p class="i7">And which the young Medoro's hand had made.</p> +<p class="i6">On the great pleasure he had known in it,</p> +<p class="i7">This sentence he in verses had arrayed;</p> +<p class="i6">Which to his tongue, I deem, might make pretense</p> +<p class="i6">To polished phrase; and such in ours the sense:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Gay plants, green herbage, rill of limpid vein,</p> +<p class="i7">And, grateful with cool shade, thou gloomy cave,</p> +<p class="i6">Where oft, by many wooed with fruitless pain,</p> +<p class="i7">Beauteous Angelica, the child of grave</p> +<p class="i6">King Galaphron, within my arms has lain;</p> +<p class="i7">For the convenient harborage you gave,</p> +<p class="i6">I, poor Medoro, can but in my lays,</p> +<p class="i6">As recompense, forever sing your praise.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"And any loving lord devoutly pray,</p> +<p class="i7">Damsel and cavalier, and every one,</p> +<p class="i6">Whom choice or fortune hither shall convey,</p> +<p class="i7">Stranger or native,--to this crystal run,</p> +<p class="i6">Shade, caverned rock, and grass, and plants, to +say,</p> +<p class="i7">'Benignant be to you the fostering sun</p> +<p class="i6">And moon, and may the choir of nymphs provide,</p> +<p class="i6">That never swain his flock may hither guide.'"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">In Arabic was writ the blessing said,</p> +<p class="i7">Known to Orlando like the Latin tongue,</p> +<p class="i6">Who, versed in many languages, best read</p> +<p class="i7">Was in this speech; which oftentimes from wrong</p> +<p class="i6">And injury and shame had saved his head,</p> +<p class="i7">What time he roved the Saracens among.</p> +<p class="i6">But let him boast not of its former boot,</p> +<p class="i6">O'erbalanced by the present bitter fruit.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Three times, and four, and six, the lines +impressed</p> +<p class="i7">Upon the stone that wretch perused, in vain</p> +<p class="i6">Seeking another sense than was expressed,</p> +<p class="i7">And ever saw the thing more clear and plain;</p> +<p class="i6">And all the while, within his troubled breast,</p> +<p class="i7">He felt an icy hand his heart-core strain.</p> +<p class="i6">With mind and eyes close fastened on the block,</p> +<p class="i6">At length he stood, not differing from the rock.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then well-nigh lost all feeling; so a prey</p> +<p class="i7">Wholly was he to that o'ermastering woe.</p> +<p class="i6">This is a pang, believe the experienced say</p> +<p class="i7">Of him who speaks, which does all griefs outgo.</p> +<p class="i6">His pride had from his forehead passed away,</p> +<p class="i7">His chin had fallen upon his breast below;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor found he, so grief-barred each natural vent,</p> +<p class="i6">Moisture for tears, or utterance for lament.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Stifled within, the impetuous sorrow stays,</p> +<p class="i7">Which would too quickly issue; so to abide</p> +<p class="i6">Water is seen, imprisoned in the vase,</p> +<p class="i7">Whose neck is narrow and whose swell is wide;</p> +<p class="i6">What time, when one turns up the inverted base,</p> +<p class="i7">Toward the mouth, so hastes the hurrying tide,</p> +<p class="i6">And in the strait encounters such a stop,</p> +<p class="i6">It scarcely works a passage, drop by drop.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">He somewhat to himself returned, and thought</p> +<p class="i7">How possibly the thing might be untrue:</p> +<p class="i6">That some one (so he hoped, desired, and sought</p> +<p class="i7">To think) his lady would with shame pursue;</p> +<p class="i6">Or with such weight of jealousy had wrought</p> +<p class="i7">To whelm <i>his</i> reason, as should him undo;</p> +<p class="i6">And that he, whosoe'er the thing had planned,</p> +<p class="i6">Had counterfeited passing well her hand.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">With such vain hope he sought himself to cheat,</p> +<p class="i7">And manned some deal his spirits and awoke;</p> +<p class="i6">Then prest the faithful Brigliadoro's seat,</p> +<p class="i7">As on the sun's retreat his sister broke.</p> +<p class="i6">Not far the warrior had pursued his beat,</p> +<p class="i7">Ere eddying from a roof he saw the smoke;</p> +<p class="i6">Heard noise of dog and kine, a farm espied,</p> +<p class="i6">And thitherward in quest of lodging hied.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Languid, he lit, and left his Brigliador</p> +<p class="i7">To a discreet attendant; one undrest</p> +<p class="i6">His limbs, one doffed the golden spurs he wore,</p> +<p class="i7">And one bore off, to clean, his iron vest.</p> +<p class="i6">This was the homestead where the young Medore</p> +<p class="i7">Lay wounded, and was here supremely blest.</p> +<p class="i6">Orlando here, with other food unfed,</p> +<p class="i6">Having supt full of sorrow, sought his bed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Little availed the count his self-deceit;</p> +<p class="i7">For there was one who spake of it unsought:</p> +<p class="i6">The shepherd-swain, who to allay the heat</p> +<p class="i7">With which he saw his guest so troubled, thought</p> +<p class="i6">The tale which he was wonted to repeat--</p> +<p class="i7">Of the two lovers--to each listener taught;</p> +<p class="i6">A history which many loved to hear,</p> +<p class="i6">He now, without reserve, 'gan tell the peer.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"How at Angelica's persuasive prayer,</p> +<p class="i7">He to his farm had carried young Medore,</p> +<p class="i6">Grievously wounded with an arrow; where</p> +<p class="i7">In little space she healed the angry sore.</p> +<p class="i6">But while she exercised this pious care,</p> +<p class="i7">Love in her heart the lady wounded more,</p> +<p class="i6">And kindled from small spark so fierce a fire,</p> +<p class="i6">She burnt all over, restless with desire;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Nor thinking she of mightiest king was born,</p> +<p class="i7">Who ruled in the East, nor of her heritage,</p> +<p class="i6">Forced by too puissant love, had thought no scorn</p> +<p class="i7">To be the consort of a poor foot-page."</p> +<p class="i6">His story done, to them in proof was borne</p> +<p class="i7">The gem, which, in reward for harborage,</p> +<p class="i6">To her extended in that kind abode,</p> +<p class="i6">Angelica, at parting, had bestowed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">In him, forthwith, such deadly hatred breed</p> +<p class="i7">That bed, that house, that swain, he will not +stay</p> +<p class="i6">Till the morn break, or till the dawn succeed,</p> +<p class="i7">Whose twilight goes before approaching day.</p> +<p class="i6">In haste, Orlando takes his arms and steed,</p> +<p class="i7">And to the deepest greenwood wends his way.</p> +<p class="i6">And when assured that he is there alone,</p> +<p class="i6">Gives utterance to his grief in shriek and groan.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Never from tears, never from sorrowing,</p> +<p class="i7">He paused; nor found he peace by night or day;</p> +<p class="i6">He fled from town, in forest harboring,</p> +<p class="i7">And in the open air on hard earth lay.</p> +<p class="i6">He marveled at himself, how such a spring</p> +<p class="i7">Of water from his eyes could stream away,</p> +<p class="i6">And breath was for so many sobs supplied;</p> +<p class="i6">And thus oft-times, amid his mourning, cried:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"I am not--am not what I seem to sight:</p> +<p class="i7">What Roland was, is dead and under ground,</p> +<p class="i6">Slain by that most ungrateful lady's spite,</p> +<p class="i7">Whose faithlessness inflicted such a wound.</p> +<p class="i6">Divided from the flesh, I am his sprite,</p> +<p class="i7">Which in this hell, tormented, walks its round,</p> +<p class="i6">To be, but in its shadow left above,</p> +<p class="i6">A warning to all such as trust in love."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">All night about the forest roved the count,</p> +<p class="i7">And, at the break of daily light, was brought</p> +<p class="i6">By his unhappy fortune to the fount,</p> +<p class="i7">Where his inscription young Medoro wrought.</p> +<p class="i6">To see his wrongs inscribed upon that mount</p> +<p class="i7">Inflamed his fury so, in him was naught</p> +<p class="i6">But turned to hatred, frenzy, rage, and spite;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor paused he more, but bared his falchion +bright,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Cleft through the writing; and the solid block,</p> +<p class="i7">Into the sky, in tiny fragments sped.</p> +<p class="i6">Woe worth each sapling and that caverned rock</p> +<p class="i7">Where Medore and Angelica were read!</p> +<p class="i6">So scathed, that they to shepherd or to flock</p> +<p class="i7">Thenceforth shall never furnish shade or bed.</p> +<p class="i6">And that sweet fountain, late so clear and pure,</p> +<p class="i6">From such tempestous wrath was ill secure.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So fierce his rage, so fierce his fury grew,</p> +<p class="i7">That all obscured remained the warrior's sprite;</p> +<p class="i6">Nor, for forgetfulness, his sword he drew,</p> +<p class="i7">Or wondrous deeds, I trow, had wrought the +knight;</p> +<p class="i6">But neither this, nor bill, nor axe to hew,</p> +<p class="i7">Was needed by Orlando's peerless might.</p> +<p class="i6">He of his prowess gave high proofs and full,</p> +<p class="i6">Who a tall pine uprooted at a pull.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">He many others, with as little let</p> +<p class="i7">As fennel, wall-wort-stem, or dill uptore;</p> +<p class="i6">And ilex, knotted oak, and fir upset,</p> +<p class="i7">And beech and mountain ash, and elm-tree hoar.</p> +<p class="i6">He did what fowler, ere he spreads his net,</p> +<p class="i7">Does, to prepare the champaign for his lore,</p> +<p class="i6">By stubble, rush, and nettle stalk; and broke,</p> +<p class="i6">Like these, old sturdy trees and stems of oak.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The shepherd swains, who hear the tumult nigh,</p> +<p class="i7">Leaving their flocks beneath the greenwood tree,</p> +<p class="i6">Some here, some there, across the forest hie,</p> +<p class="i7">And hurry thither, all, the cause to see.</p> +<p class="i6">But I have reached such point, my history,</p> +<p class="i7">If I o'erpass this bound, may irksome be.</p> +<p class="i6">And I my story will delay to end</p> +<p class="i6">Rather than by my tediousness offend.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ARISTOPHANES"></a>ARISTOPHANES</h2> +<h3>(B.C. 448-380?)</h3> +<h3>BY PAUL SHOREY</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he birth-year of Aristophanes is placed about 448 B.C., on the +ground that he is said to have been almost a boy when his first +comedy was presented in 427. His last play, the 'Plutus,' was +produced in 388, and there is no evidence that he long survived +this date. Little is known of his life beyond the allusions, in the +Parabases of the 'Acharnians,' 'Knights,' and 'Wasps,' to his +prosecution by Cleon, to his own or his father's estate at Aegina, +and to his premature baldness. He left three sons who also wrote +comedies.</p> +<p>Aristophanes is the sole extant representative of the so-called +Old Comedy of Athens; a form of dramatic art which developed +obscurely under the shadow of Attic Tragedy in the first half of +the fifth century B.C., out of the rustic revelry of the Phallic +procession and Comus song of Dionysus, perhaps with some outside +suggestions from the Megarian farce and its Sicilian offshoot, the +mythological court comedy of Epicharmus. The chief note of this +older comedy for the ancient critics was its unbridled license of +direct personal satire and invective. Eupolis, Cratinus, and +Aristophanes, says Horace, assailed with the utmost freedom any one +who deserved to be branded with infamy. This old political Comedy +was succeeded in the calmer times that followed the Peloponnesian +War by the so-called Middle Comedy (390-320) of Alexis, Antiphanes, +Strattis, and some minor men; which insensibly passed into the New +Comedy (320-250) of Menander and Philemon, known to us in the +reproductions of Terence. And this new comedy, which portrayed +types of private life instead of satirizing noted persons by name, +and which, as Aristotle says, produced laughter by innuendo rather +than by scurrility, was preferred to the "terrible graces" of her +elder sister by the gentle and refined Plutarch, or the critic who +has usurped his name in the 'Comparison of Aristophanes and +Menander.' The old Attic Comedy has been variously compared to +Charivari, Punch, the comic opera of Offenbach, and a Parisian +'revue de fin d'année.' There is no good modern analogue. It +is not our comedy of manners, plot, and situation; nor yet is it +mere buffoonery. It is a peculiar mixture of broad political, +social, and literary satire, and polemical discussion of large +ideas, with the burlesque and licentious extravagances that were +deemed the most acceptable service at the festival of the +laughter-loving, tongue-loosening god of the vine.</p> +<p class="lft"><img src="images/image-300.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>ARISTOPHANES</b></p> +<p>The typical plan of an Aristophanic comedy is very simple. The +protagonist undertakes in all apparent seriousness to give a local +habitation and a body to some ingenious fancy, airy speculation, or +bold metaphor: as for example, the procuring of a private peace for +a citizen who is weary of the privations of war; or the +establishment of a city in Cloud-Cuckoo-Land where the birds shall +regulate things better than the featherless biped, man; or the +restoration of the eyesight of the proverbially blind god of +Wealth. The attention of the audience is at once enlisted for the +semblance of a plot by which the scheme is put into execution. The +design once effected, the remainder of the play is given over to a +series of loosely connected scenes, ascending to a climax of +absurdity, in which the consequences of the original happy thought +are followed out with a Swiftian verisimilitude of piquant detail +and a Rabelaisian license of uproarious mirth. It rests with the +audience to take the whole as pure extravaganza, or as a +<i>reductio ad absurdum</i> or playful defense of the conception +underlying the original idea. In the intervals between the scenes, +the chorus sing rollicking topical songs or bits of exquisite +lyric, or in the name of the poet directly exhort and admonish the +audience in the so-called Parabasis.</p> +<p>Of Aristophanes's first two plays, the 'Banqueters of Hercules' +(427), and the 'Babylonians' (426), only fragments remain. The +impolitic representation in the latter of the Athenian allies as +branded Babylonian slaves was the ground of Cleon's attack in the +courts upon Aristophanes, or Callistratus in whose name the play +was produced.</p> +<p>The extant plays are the following:--</p> +<p>'The Acharnians,' B.C. 425, shortly after the Athenian defeat at +Delium. The worthy countryman, Dicæopolis, weary of being +cooped up within the Long Walls, and disgusted with the shameless +jobbery of the politicians, sends to Sparta for samples of peace +(the Greek word means also libations) of different vintages. The +Thirty Years' brand smells of nectar and ambrosia. He accepts it, +concludes a private treaty for himself and friends, and proceeds to +celebrate the rural Dionysia with wife and child, soothing, by an +eloquent plea pronounced in tattered tragic vestments borrowed from +Euripides, the anger of the chorus of choleric Acharnian charcoal +burners, exasperated at the repeated devastation of their deme by +the Spartans. He then opens a market, to which a jolly Boeotian +brings the long-lost, thrice-desired Copaic eel; while a starveling +Megarian, to the huge delight of the Athenian groundlings, sells +his little daughters, disguised as pigs, for a peck of salt. +Finally Dicæopolis goes forth to a wedding banquet, from +which he returns very mellow in the company of two flute girls; +while Lamachus, the head of the war party, issues forth to do +battle with the Boeotians in the snow, and comes back with a bloody +coxcomb. This play was successfully given in Greek by the students +of the University of Pennsylvania in the spring of 1886, and +interestingly discussed in the Nation of May 6th by Professor +Gildersleeve.</p> +<p>'The Knights,' B.C. 424: named from the chorus of young Athenian +cavaliers who abet the sausage-seller, Agoracritus, egged on by the +discontented family servants (the generals), Nicias and +Demosthenes, to outbid with shameless flattery the rascally +Paphlagonian steward, Cleon, and supplant him in the favor of their +testy bean-fed old master, Demos (or People). At the close, Demos +recovers his wits and his youth, and is revealed sitting enthroned +in his glory in the good old Marathonian Athens of the Violet +Crown. The prolongation of the billingsgate in the contest between +Cleon and the sausage-seller grows wearisome to modern taste; but +the portrait of the Demagogue is for all time.</p> +<p>'The Clouds,' B.C. 423: an attack on Socrates, unfairly taken as +an embodiment of the deleterious and unsettling "new learning," +both in the form of Sophistical rhetoric and "meteorological" +speculation. Worthy Strepsiades, eager to find a new way to pay the +debts in which the extravagance of his horse-racing son +Pheidippides has involved him, seeks to enter the youth as a +student in the Thinking-shop or Reflectory of Socrates, that he may +learn to make the worse appear the better reason, and so baffle his +creditors before a jury. The young man, after much demur and the +ludicrous failure of his father, who at first matriculates in his +stead, consents. He listens to the pleas of the just and unjust +argument in behalf of the old and new education, and becomes +himself such a proficient that he demonstrates, in flawless +reasoning, that Euripides is a better poet than Aeschylus, and that +a boy is justified in beating his father for affirming the +contrary. Strepsiades thereupon, cured of his folly, undertakes a +subtle investigation into the timbers of the roof of the +Reflectory, with a view to smoking out the corrupters of youth. +Many of the songs sung by or to the clouds, the patron deities of +Socrates's misty lore, are extremely beautiful. Socrates is made to +allude to these attacks of comedy by Plato in the 'Apology,' and, +on his last day in prison, in the 'Phædo.' In the 'Symposium' +or 'Banquet' of Plato, Aristophanes bursts in upon a company of +friends with whom Socrates is feasting, and drinks with them till +morning; while Socrates forces him and the tragic poet Agathon, +both of them very sleepy, to admit that the true dramatic artist +will excel in both tragedy and comedy.</p> +<p>'The Wasps,' B.C. 422: a <i>jeu d'esprit</i> turning on the +Athenian passion for litigation. Young Bdelucleon (hate-Cleon) can +keep his old father Philocleon (love-Cleon) out of the courts only +by instituting a private court in his own house. The first culprit, +the house-dog, is tried for stealing a Sicilian cheese, and +acquitted by Philocleon's mistaking the urn of acquittal for that +of condemnation. The old man is inconsolable at the first escape of +a victim from his clutches; but finally, renouncing his folly, +takes lessons from his exquisite of a son in the manners and +deportment of a fine gentleman. He then attends a dinner party, +where he betters his instructions with comic exaggeration and +returns home in high feather, singing tipsy catches and assaulting +the watch on his way. The chorus of Wasps, the visible embodiment +of a metaphor found also in Plato's 'Republic,' symbolizes the +sting used by the Athenian jurymen to make the rich disgorge a +portion of their gathered honey. The 'Plaideurs' of Racine is an +imitation of this play; and the <i>motif</i> of the committal of +the dog is borrowed by Ben Jonson in the 'Staple of News.'</p> +<p>'The Peace,' B.C. 421: in support of the Peace of Nicias, +ratified soon afterward (Grote's 'History of Greece,' Vol. vi., +page 492). Trygæus, an honest vine-dresser yearning for his +farm, in parody of the Bellerophon of Euripides, ascends to heaven +on a dung-beetle. He there hauls Peace from the bottom of the well +into which she had been cast by Ares, and brings her home in +triumph to Greece, when she inaugurates a reign of plenty and +uproarious jollity, and celebrates the nuptials of Trygæus +and her handmaid Opora (Harvest-home).</p> +<p>'The Birds,' B.C. 414. Peisthetærus (Plausible) and +Euelpides (Hopeful), whose names and deeds are perhaps a satire on +the unbounded ambition that brought ruin on Athens at Syracuse, +journey to Birdland and persuade King Hoopoe to induce the birds to +build Nephelococcygia or Cloud-Cuckoo-Burgh in the air between the +gods and men, starve out the gods with a "Melian famine," and rule +the world themselves. The gods, their supplies of incense cut off, +are forced to treat, and Peisthetærus receives in marriage +Basileia (Sovereignty), the daughter of Zeus. The <i>mise en +scène</i>, with the gorgeous plumage of the bird-chorus, +must have been very impressive, and many of the choric songs are +exceedingly beautiful. There is an interesting account by Professor +Jebb in the Fortnightly Review (Vol. xli.) of a performance of 'The +Birds' at Cambridge in 1884.</p> +<p>Two plays, B.C. 411: (1) at the Lenæa, 'The Lysistrata,' +in which the women of Athens and Sparta by a secession from bed and +board compel their husbands to end the war; (2) The +'Thesmophoriazusæ' or Women's Festival of Demeter, a +licentious but irresistibly funny assault upon Euripides. The +tragedian, learning that the women in council assembled are +debating on the punishment due to his misogyny, implores the +effeminate poet Agathon to intercede for him. That failing, he +dispatches his kinsman Mnesilochus, disguised with singed beard and +woman's robes, a sight to shake the midriff of despair with +laughter, to plead his cause. The advocate's excess of zeal betrays +him; he is arrested: and the remainder of the play is occupied by +the ludicrous devices, borrowed or parodied from well-known +Euripidean tragedies, by which the poet endeavors to rescue his +intercessor.</p> +<p>'The Frogs,' B.C. 405, in the brief respite of hope between the +victory of Arginusæ and the final overthrow of Athens at +Ægospotami. Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides are dead. The +minor bards are a puny folk, and Dionysus is resolved to descend to +Hades in quest of a truly creative poet, one capable of a figure +like "my star god's glow-worm," or "His honor rooted in dishonor +stood." After many surprising adventures by the way, and in the +outer precincts of the underworld, accompanied by his Sancho Panza, +Xanthias, he arrives at the court of Pluto just in time to be +chosen arbitrator of the great contest between Aeschylus and +Euripides for the tragic throne in Hades. The comparisons and +parodies of the styles of Aeschylus and Euripides that follow, +constitute, in spite of their comic exaggeration, one of the most +entertaining and discriminating chapters of literary criticism +extant, and give us an exalted idea of the intelligence of the +audience that appreciated them. Dionysus decides for +Æschylus, and leads him back in triumph to the upper +world.</p> +<p>The 'Ecclesiazusæ' or 'Ladies in Parliament,' B.C. 393: +apparently a satire on the communistic theories which must have +been current in the discussions of the schools before they found +definite expression in Plato's 'Republic.' The ladies of Athens +rise betimes, purloin their husbands' hats and canes, pack the +Assembly, and pass a measure to intrust the reins of government to +women. An extravagant and licentious communism is the result.</p> +<p>The 'Plutus,' B.C. 388: a second and much altered edition of a +play represented for the first time in 408. With the +'Ecclesiazusæ' it marks the transition to the Middle Comedy, +there being no parabasis, and little of the exuberant <i>verve</i> +of the older pieces. The blind god of Wealth recovers his eyesight +by sleeping in the temple of Æsculapius, and proceeds to +distribute the gifts of fortune more equitably.</p> +<p>The assignment of the dates and restoration of the plots of the +thirty-two lost plays, of which a few not very interesting +fragments remain, belong to the domain of conjectural +erudition.</p> +<p>Aristophanes has been regarded by some critics as a grave moral +censor, veiling his high purpose behind the grinning mask of +comedy; by others as a buffoon of genius, whose only object was to +raise a laugh. Both sides of the question are ingeniously and +copiously argued in Browning's 'Aristophanes' Apology'; and there +is a judicious summing up of the case of Aristophanes <i>vs</i>. +Euripides in Professor Jebb's lectures on Greek poetry. The soberer +view seems to be that while predominantly a comic artist, obeying +the instincts of his genius, he did frequently make his comedy the +vehicle of an earnest conservative polemic against the new spirit +of the age in Literature, Philosophy, and Politics. He pursued +Euripides with relentless ridicule because his dramatic motives +lent themselves to parody, and his lines were on the lips of every +theatre-goer; but also because he believed that Euripides had +spoiled the old, stately, heroic art of Aeschylus and Sophocles by +incongruous infusions of realism and sentimentalism, and had +debased the "large utterance of the early gods" by an unhallowed +mixture of colloquialism, dialectic, and chicane.</p> +<p>Aristophanes travestied the teachings of Socrates because his +ungainly figure, and the oddity (<i>atopia</i>) attributed to him +even by Plato, made him an excellent butt; yet also because he felt +strongly that it was better for the young Athenian to spend his +days in the Palæstra, or "where the elm-tree whispers to the +plane," than in filing a contentious tongue on barren logomachies. +That Socrates in fact discussed only ethical problems, and +disclaimed all sympathy with speculations about things above our +heads, made no difference: he was the best human embodiment of a +hateful educational error. And similarly the assault upon Cleon, +the "pun-pelleting of demagogues from Pnux," was partly due to the +young aristocrat's instinctive aversion to the coarse popular +leader, and to the broad mark which the latter presented to the +shafts of satire, but equally, perhaps, to a genuine patriotic +revolt at the degradation of Athenian politics in the hands of the +successors of Pericles.</p> +<p>But Aristophanes's ideas interest us less than his art and +humor. We have seen the nature of his plots. In such a topsy-turvy +world there is little opportunity for nice delineation of +character. His personages are mainly symbols or caricatures. Yet +they are vividly if broadly sketched, and genuine touches of human +nature lend verisimilitude to their most improbable actions. One or +two traditional comic types appear for the first time, apparently, +on his stage: the alternately cringing and familiar slave or valet +of comedy, in his Xanthias and Karion; and in Dicæopolis, +Strepsiades, Demos, Trygæus, and Dionysus, the sensual, +jovial, shrewd, yet naïve and credulous middle-aged +<i>bourgeois gentilhomme</i> or 'Sganarelle,' who is not ashamed to +avow his poltroonery, and yet can, on occasion, maintain his rights +with sturdy independence.</p> +<p>But the chief attraction of Aristophanes is the abounding comic +force and <i>verve</i> of his style. It resembles an impetuous +torrent, whose swift rush purifies in its flow the grossness and +obscenity inseparable from the origin of comedy, and buoys up and +sweeps along on the current of fancy and improvisation the chaff +and dross of vulgar jests, puns, scurrilous personalities, and +cheap "gags," allowing no time for chilling reflections or +criticism. Jests which are singly feeble combine to induce a mood +of extravagant hilarity when huddled upon us with such "impossible +conveyance." This <i>vivida vis animi</i> can hardly be reproduced +in a translation, and disappears altogether in an attempt at an +abstract enumeration of the poet's inexhaustible devices for comic +effect. He himself repeatedly boasts of the fertility of his +invention, and claims to have discarded the coarse farce of his +predecessors for something more worthy of the refined intelligence +of his clever audience. Yet it must be acknowledged that much even +of his wit is the mere filth-throwing of a naughty boy; or at best +the underbred jocularity of the "funny column," the topical song, +or the minstrel show. There are puns on the names of notable +personages; a grotesque, fantastic, punning fauna, flora, and +geography of Greece; a constant succession of surprises effected by +the sudden substitution of low or incongruous terms in proverbs, +quotations, and legal or religious formulas; scenes in dialect, +scenes of excellent fooling in the vein of Uncle Toby and the +Clown, girds at the audience, personalities that for us have lost +their point,--about Cleonymus the caster-away of shields, or +Euripides's herb-selling mother,--and everywhere unstinted service +to the great gods Priapus and Cloacina.</p> +<p>A finer instrument of comic effect is the parody. The countless +parodies of the lyric and dramatic literature of Greece are perhaps +the most remarkable testimony extant to the intelligence of an +Athenian audience. Did they infallibly catch the allusion when +Dicæopolis welcomed back to the Athenian fish-market the +long-lost Copaic eel in high Æschylean strain,--</p> +<blockquote>"Of fifty nymphs Copaic alderliefest +queen,"</blockquote> +<p>and then, his voice breaking with the intolerable pathos of +Admetus's farewell to the dying Alcestis, added,</p> +<p class="heading">"Yea, even in death</p> +<blockquote>Thou'lt bide with me, embalmed and +beet-bestewed"?</blockquote> +<p>Did they recognize the blasphemous Pindaric pun in "Helle's holy +straits," for a tight place, and appreciate all the niceties of +diction, metre, and dramatic art discriminated in the comparison +between Aeschylus and Euripides in the 'Frogs'? At any rate, no +Athenian could miss the fun of Dicæopolis (like Hector's +baby) "scared at the dazzling plume and nodding crest" of the +swashbuckler Lamachus, of Philocleon, clinging to his ass's belly +like Odysseus escaping under the ram from the Cyclops's cave; of +the baby in the Thesmophoriazusæ seized as a Euripidean +hostage, and turning out a wine bottle in swaddling-clothes; of +light-foot Iris in the rôle of a saucy, frightened soubrette; +of the heaven-defying Æschylean Prometheus hiding under an +umbrella from the thunderbolts of Zeus. And they must have felt +instinctively what only a laborious erudition reveals to us, the +sudden subtle modulations of the colloquial comic verse into +mock-heroic travesty of high tragedy or lyric.</p> +<p>Euripides, the chief victim of Aristophanes's genius for parody, +was so burlesqued that his best known lines became by-words, and +his most ardent admirers, the very Balaustions and Euthukleses, +must have grinned when they heard them, like a pair of augurs. If +we conceive five or six Shakespearean comedies filled from end to +end with ancient Pistols hallooing to "pampered jades of Asia," and +Dr. Caiuses chanting of "a thousand vagrom posies," we may form +some idea of Aristophanes's handling of the notorious lines--</p> +<blockquote>"The tongue has sworn, the mind remains unsworn."<br> +"Thou lovest life, thy sire loves it too."<br> +"Who knows if life and death be truly one?"</blockquote> +<p>But the charm of Aristophanes does not lie in any of these +things singly, but in the combination of ingenious and paradoxical +fancy with an inexhaustible flow of apt language by which they are +held up and borne out. His personages are ready to make believe +anything. Nothing surprises them long. They enter into the spirit +of each new conceit, and can always discover fresh analogies to +bear it out. The very plots of his plays are realized metaphors or +embodied conceits. And the same concrete vividness of imagination +is displayed in single scenes and episodes. The Better and the +Worse Reason plead the causes of the old and new education in +person. Cleon and Brasidas are the pestles with which War proposes +to bray Greece in a mortar; the triremes of Athens in council +assembled declare that they will rot in the docks sooner than yield +their virginity to musty, fusty Hyperbolus. The fair cities of +Greece stand about waiting for the recovery of Peace from her Well, +with dreadful black eyes, poor things; Armisticia and Harvest-Home +tread the stage in the flesh, and Nincompoop and Defraudation are +among the gods.</p> +<p>The special metaphor or conceit of each play attracts +appropriate words and images, and creates a distinct atmosphere of +its own. In the 'Knights' the air fairly reeks with the smell of +leather and the tanyard. The 'Birds' transport us to a world of +trillings and pipings, and beaks and feathers. There is a buzzing +and a humming and a stinging throughout the 'Wasps.' The 'Clouds' +drip with mist, and are dim with aërial vaporous effects.</p> +<p>Aristophanes was the original inventor of Bob Acres's style of +oath--the so-called referential or sentimental swearing. +Dicæopolis invokes Ecbatana when Shamartabas struts upon the +stage. Socrates in the 'Clouds' swears by the everlasting vapors. +King Hoopoe's favorite oath is "Odds nets and birdlime." And the +vein of humor that lies in over-ingenious, elaborate, and sustained +metaphor was first worked in these comedies. All these excellences +are summed up in the incomparable wealth and flexibility of his +vocabulary. He has a Shakespearean mastery of the technicalities of +every art and mystery, an appalling command of billingsgate and of +the language of the cuisine, and would tire Falstaff and Prince Hal +with base comparisons. And not content with the existing resources +of the Greek vocabulary, he coins grotesque or beautiful +compounds,--exquisite epithets like "Botruodöré" +(bestower of the vine), "heliomanes" (drunk-with-sunlight), +"myriad-flagoned phrases," untranslatable "port-manteaus" like +"plouthugieia" (health-and-wealthfulness), and Gargantuan +agglomerations of syllables like the portentous <i>olla podrida</i> +at the end of the 'Ecclesiazusæ.'</p> +<p>The great comic writer, as the example of Molière proves, +need not be a poet. But the mere overflow of careless poetic power +which is manifested by Aristophanes would have sufficed to set up +any ordinary tragedian or lyrist. In plastic mastery of language +only two Greek writers can vie with him, Plato and Homer. In the +easy grace and native harmony of his verse he outsings all the +tragedians, even that Aeschylus whom he praised as the man who had +written the most exquisite songs of any poet of the time. In his +blank verse he easily strikes every note, from that of the urbane, +unaffected, colloquial Attic, to parody of high or subtle tragic +diction hardly distinguishable from its model. He can adapt his +metres to the expression of every shade of feeling. He has short, +snapping, fiery trochees, like sparks from their own holm oak, to +represent the choler of the Acharnians; eager, joyous glyconics to +bundle up a sycophant and hustle him off the stage, or for the +young knights of Athens celebrating Phormio's sea fights, and +chanting, horse-taming Poseidon, Pallas, guardian of the State, and +Victory, companion of the dance; the quickstep march of the +trochaic tetrameter to tell how the Attic wasps, true children of +the soil, charged the Persians at Marathon; and above all--the +chosen vehicle of his wildest conceits, his most audacious fancies, +and his strongest appeals to the better judgment of the +citizens--the anapæstic tetrameter, that "resonant and +triumphant" metre of which even Mr. Swinburne's anapæsts can +reproduce only a faint and far-off echo.</p> +<p>But he has more than the opulent diction and the singing voice +of the poet. He has the key to fairy-land, a feeling for nature +which we thought romantic and modern, and in his lyrics the native +wood-notes wild of his own 'Mousa lochmaia' (the muse of the +coppice). The chorus of the Mystæ in the 'Frogs,' the rustic +idyl of the 'Peace,' the songs of the girls in the 'Lysistrata,' +the call of the nightingale, the hymns of the 'Clouds,' the speech +of the "Just Reason," and the grand chorus of birds, reveal +Aristophanes as not only the first comic writer of Greece, but as +one of the very greatest of her poets.</p> +<p>Among the many editions of Aristophanes, those most useful to +the student and the general reader are doubtless the text edited by +Bergk (2 vols., 1867), and the translations of the five most famous +plays by John Hookham Frere, to be found in his complete works.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-308.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name= +"THE_ORIGIN_OF_THE_PELOPONNESIAN_WAR"></a> <b>THE ORIGIN OF THE +PELOPONNESIAN WAR</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'The Acharnians': Frere's Translation</p> +<p class="heading">DICÆOPOLIS</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Be not surprised, most excellent spectators,</p> +<p class="i6">If I that am a beggar have presumed</p> +<p class="i6">To claim an audience upon public matters,</p> +<p class="i6">Even in a comedy; for comedy</p> +<p class="i6">Is conversant in all the rules of justice,</p> +<p class="i6">And can distinguish betwixt right and wrong.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The words I speak are bold, but just and true.</p> +<p class="i6">Cleon at least cannot accuse me now,</p> +<p class="i6">That I defame the city before strangers,</p> +<p class="i6">For this is the Lenæan festival,</p> +<p class="i6">And here we meet, all by ourselves alone;</p> +<p class="i6">No deputies are arrived as yet with tribute,</p> +<p class="i6">No strangers or allies: but here we sit</p> +<p class="i6">A chosen sample, clean as sifted corn,</p> +<p class="i6">With our own denizens as a kind of chaff.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">First, I detest the Spartans most extremely;</p> +<p class="i6">And wish that Neptune, the Tænarian deity,</p> +<p class="i6">Would bury them in their houses with his +earthquakes.</p> +<p class="i6">For I've had losses--losses, let me tell ye,</p> +<p class="i6">Like other people; vines cut down and injured.</p> +<p class="i6">But among friends (for only friends are here),</p> +<p class="i6">Why should we blame the Spartans for all this?</p> +<p class="i6">For people of ours, some people of our own,--</p> +<p class="i6">Some people from among us here, I mean:</p> +<p class="i6">But not the People (pray, remember that);</p> +<p class="i6">I never said the People, but a pack</p> +<p class="i6">Of paltry people, mere pretended citizens,</p> +<p class="i6">Base counterfeits,--went laying informations,</p> +<p class="i6">And making a confiscation of the jerkins</p> +<p class="i6">Imported here from Megara; pigs, moreover,</p> +<p class="i6">Pumpkins, and pecks of salt, and ropes of onions,</p> +<p class="i6">Were voted to be merchandise from Megara,</p> +<p class="i6">Denounced, and seized, and sold upon the spot.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Well, these might pass, as petty local matters.</p> +<p class="i6">But now, behold, some doughty drunken youths</p> +<p class="i6">Kidnap, and carry away from Megara,</p> +<p class="i6">The courtesan, Simætha. Those of Megara,</p> +<p class="i6">In hot retaliation, seize a brace</p> +<p class="i6">Of equal strumpets, hurried forth perforce</p> +<p class="i6">From Dame Aspasia's house of recreation.</p> +<p class="i6">So this was the beginning of the war,</p> +<p class="i6">All over Greece, owing to these three strumpets.</p> +<p class="i6">For Pericles, like an Olympian Jove,</p> +<p class="i6">With all his thunder and his thunderbolts,</p> +<p class="i6">Began to storm and lighten dreadfully,</p> +<p class="i6">Alarming all the neighborhood of Greece;</p> +<p class="i6">And made decrees, drawn up like drinking songs,</p> +<p class="i6">In which it was enacted and concluded</p> +<p class="i6">That the Megarians should remain excluded</p> +<p class="i6">From every place where commerce was transacted,</p> +<p class="i6">With all their ware--like "old Care" in the +ballad:</p> +<p class="i6">And this decree, by land and sea, was valid.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then the Megarians, being all half starved,</p> +<p class="i6">Desired the Spartans to desire of us</p> +<p class="i6">Just to repeal those laws: the laws I mentioned,</p> +<p class="i6">Occasioned by the stealing of those strumpets.</p> +<p class="i6">And so they begged and prayed us several times;</p> +<p class="i6">And we refused: and so they went to war.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_POETS_APOLOGY"></a> <b>THE POET'S +APOLOGY</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">From 'The Acharnians': Frere's Translation.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">Our poet has never as yet</p> +<p class="i8">Esteemed it proper or fit</p> +<p class="i8">To detain you with a long</p> +<p class="i8">Encomiastic song</p> +<p class="i8">On his own superior wit;</p> +<p class="i8">But being abused and accused,</p> +<p class="i8">And attacked of late</p> +<p class="i8">As a foe of the State,</p> +<p class="i5">He makes an appeal in his proper defense,</p> +<p class="i5">To your voluble humor and temper and sense,</p> +<p class="i8">With the following plea:</p> +<p class="i8">Namely, that he</p> +<p class="i7">Never attempted or ever meant</p> +<p class="i9">To scandalize</p> +<p class="i9">In any wise</p> +<p class="i7">Your mighty imperial government.</p> +<p class="i8">Moreover he says,</p> +<p class="i8">That in various ways</p> +<p class="i5">He presumes to have merited honor and praise;</p> +<p class="i5">Exhorting you still to stick to your rights,</p> +<p class="i5">And no more to be fooled with rhetorical flights;</p> +<p class="i7">Such as of late each envoy tries</p> +<p class="i7">On the behalf of your allies,</p> +<p class="i6">That come to plead their cause before ye,</p> +<p class="i6">With fulsome phrase, and a foolish story</p> +<p class="i6">Of "violet crowns" and "Athenian glory,"</p> +<p class="i6">With "sumptuous Athens" at every word:</p> +<p class="i6">"Sumptuous Athens" is always heard;</p> +<p class="i6">"Sumptuous" ever, a suitable phrase</p> +<p class="i6">For a dish of meat or a beast at graze.</p> +<p class="i9">He therefore affirms</p> +<p class="i9">In confident terms,</p> +<p class="i6">That his active courage and earnest zeal</p> +<p class="i6">Have usefully served your common weal:</p> +<p class="i9">He has openly shown</p> +<p class="i9">The style and tone</p> +<p class="i6">Of your democracy ruling abroad,</p> +<p class="i6">He has placed its practices on record;</p> +<p class="i6">The tyrannical arts, the knavish tricks,</p> +<p class="i6">That poison all your politics.</p> +<p class="i6">Therefore shall we see, this year,</p> +<p class="i6">The allies with tribute arriving here,</p> +<p class="i6">Eager and anxious all to behold</p> +<p class="i6">Their steady protector, the bard so bold;</p> +<p class="i6">The bard, they say, that has dared to speak,</p> +<p class="i6">To attack the strong, to defend the weak.</p> +<p class="i6">His fame in foreign climes is heard,</p> +<p class="i6">And a singular instance lately occurred.</p> +<p class="i6">It occurred in the case of the Persian king,</p> +<p class="i6">Sifting and cross-examining</p> +<p class="i6">The Spartan envoys. He demanded</p> +<p class="i6">Which of the rival States commanded</p> +<p class="i6">The Grecian seas? He asked them next</p> +<p class="i6">(Wishing to see them more perplexed)</p> +<p class="i6">Which of the two contending powers</p> +<p class="i6">Was chiefly abused by this bard of ours?</p> +<p class="i6">For he said, "Such a bold, so profound an adviser</p> +<p class="i6">By dint of abuse would render them wiser,</p> +<p class="i6">More active and able; and briefly that they</p> +<p class="i6">Must finally prosper and carry the day."</p> +<p class="i6">Now mark the Lacedæmonian guile!</p> +<p class="i6">Demanding an insignificant isle!</p> +<p class="i6">"Ægina," they say, "for a pledge of peace,</p> +<p class="i6">As a means to make all jealousy cease."</p> +<p class="i6">Meanwhile their privy design and plan</p> +<p class="i6">Is solely to gain this marvelous man--</p> +<p class="i6">Knowing his influence on your fate--</p> +<p class="i6">By obtaining a hold on his estate</p> +<p class="i6">Situate in the isle aforesaid.</p> +<p class="i6">Therefore there needs to be no more said.</p> +<p class="i5">You know their intention, and know that you know +it:</p> +<p class="i5">You'll keep to your island, and stick to the +poet.</p> +<p class="i9">And he for his part</p> +<p class="i9">Will practice his art</p> +<p class="i9">With a patriot heart,</p> +<p class="i9">With the honest views</p> +<p class="i9">That he now pursues,</p> +<p class="i8">And fair buffoonery and abuse:</p> +<p class="i6">Not rashly bespattering, or basely beflattering,</p> +<p class="i6">Not pimping, or puffing, or acting the ruffian;</p> +<p class="i9">Not sneaking or fawning;</p> +<p class="i9">But openly scorning</p> +<p class="i9">All menace and warning,</p> +<p class="i9">All bribes and suborning:</p> +<p class="i5">He will do his endeavor on your behalf;</p> +<p class="i5">He will teach you to think, he will teach you to +laugh.</p> +<p class="i8">So Cleon again and again may try;</p> +<p class="i8">I value him not, nor fear him, I!</p> +<p class="i8">His rage and rhetoric I defy.</p> +<p class="i8">His impudence, his politics,</p> +<p class="i8">His dirty designs, his rascally tricks,</p> +<p class="i8">No stain of abuse on me shall fix.</p> +<p class="i8">Justice and right, in his despite,</p> +<p class="i6">Shall aid and attend me, and do me right:</p> +<p class="i6">With these to friend, I ne'er will bend,</p> +<p class="i9">Nor descend</p> +<p class="i9">To a humble tone</p> +<p class="i9">(Like his own),</p> +<p class="i9">As a sneaking loon,</p> +<p class="i8">A knavish, slavish, poor poltroon.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_APPEAL_OF_THE_CHORUS"></a> <b>THE +APPEAL OF THE CHORUS</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'The Knights': Frere's Translation.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">If a veteran author had wished to engage</p> +<p class="i6">Our assistance to-day, for a speech from the +stage,</p> +<p class="i6">We scarce should have granted so bold a request:</p> +<p class="i6">But this author of ours, as the bravest and best,</p> +<p class="i6">Deserves an indulgence denied to the rest,</p> +<p class="i6">For the courage and vigor, the scorn and the +hate,</p> +<p class="i6">With which he encounters the pests of the State;</p> +<p class="i6">A thoroughbred seaman, intrepid and warm,</p> +<p class="i6">Steering outright, in the face of the storm.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But now for the gentle reproaches he bore</p> +<p class="i6">On the part of his friends, for refraining before</p> +<p class="i6">To embrace the profession, embarking for life</p> +<p class="i6">In theatrical storms and poetical strife.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">He begs us to state that for reasons of weight</p> +<p class="i6">He has lingered so long and determined so late.</p> +<p class="i6">For he deemed the achievements of comedy hard,</p> +<p class="i6">The boldest attempt of a desperate bard!</p> +<p class="i6">The Muse he perceived was capricious and coy;</p> +<p class="i6">Though many were courting her, few could enjoy.</p> +<p class="i6">And he saw without reason, from season to season,</p> +<p class="i7">Your humor would shift, and turn poets adrift,</p> +<p class="i6">Requiting old friends with unkindness and +treason,</p> +<p class="i7">Discarded in scorn as exhausted and worn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Seeing Magnes's fate, who was reckoned of late</p> +<p class="i7">For the conduct of comedy captain and head;</p> +<p class="i6">That so oft on the stage, in the flower of his +age,</p> +<p class="i7">Had defeated the Chorus his rivals had led;</p> +<p class="i6">With his sounds of all sort, that were uttered in +sport,</p> +<p class="i7">With whims and vagaries unheard of before,</p> +<p class="i6">With feathers and wings, and a thousand gay +things,</p> +<p class="i7">That in frolicsome fancies his Choruses wore--</p> +<p class="i6">When his humor was spent, did your temper relent,</p> +<p class="i7">To requite the delight that he gave you before?</p> +<p class="i6">We beheld him displaced, and expelled and +disgraced,</p> +<p class="i7">When his hair and his wit were grown aged and +hoar.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then he saw, for a sample, the dismal example</p> +<p class="i6">Of noble Cratinus so splendid and ample,</p> +<p class="i6">Full of spirit and blood, and enlarged like a +flood;</p> +<p class="i6">Whose copious current tore down with its torrent,</p> +<p class="i6">Oaks, ashes, and yew, with the ground where they +grew,</p> +<p class="i6">And his rivals to boot, wrenched up by the root;</p> +<p class="i6">And his personal foes, who presumed to oppose,</p> +<p class="i6">All drowned and abolished, dispersed and +demolished,</p> +<p class="i6">And drifted headlong, with a deluge of song.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And his airs and his tunes, and his songs and +lampoons,</p> +<p class="i6">Were recited and sung by the old and the young:</p> +<p class="i6">At our feasts and carousals, what poet but he?</p> +<p class="i6">And "The fair Amphibribe" and "The Sycophant +Tree,"</p> +<p class="i6">"Masters and masons and builders of verse!"</p> +<p class="i6">Those were the tunes that all tongues could +rehearse;</p> +<p class="i6">But since in decay you have cast him away,</p> +<p class="i7">Stript of his stops and his musical strings,</p> +<p class="i6">Battered and shattered, a broken old instrument,</p> +<p class="i7">Shoved out of sight among rubbishy things.</p> +<p class="i6">His garlands are faded, and what he deems worst,</p> +<p class="i6">His tongue and his palate are parching with +thirst.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And now you may meet him alone in the street,</p> +<p class="i8">Wearied and worn, tattered and torn,</p> +<p class="i6">All decayed and forlorn, in his person and dress,</p> +<p class="i6">Whom his former success should exempt from +distress,</p> +<p class="i6">With subsistence at large at the general charge,</p> +<p class="i6">And a seat with the great at the table of State,</p> +<p class="i6">There to feast every day and preside at the play</p> +<p class="i6">In splendid apparel, triumphant and gay.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Seeing Crates, the next, always teased and +perplexed,</p> +<p class="i6">With your tyrannous temper tormented and vexed;</p> +<p class="i6">That with taste and good sense, without waste or +expense,</p> +<p class="i6">From his snug little hoard, provided your board</p> +<p class="i6">With a delicate treat, economic and neat.</p> +<p class="i6">Thus hitting or missing, with crowns or with +hissing,</p> +<p class="i8">Year after year he pursued his career,</p> +<p class="i6">For better or worse, till he finished his course.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">These precedents held him in long hesitation;</p> +<p class="i6">He replied to his friends, with a just +observation,</p> +<p class="i6">"That a seaman in regular order is bred</p> +<p class="i6">To the oar, to the helm, and to look out ahead;</p> +<p class="i6">With diligent practice has fixed in his mind</p> +<p class="i6">The signs of the weather, and changes of wind.</p> +<p class="i6">And when every point of the service is known,</p> +<p class="i6">Undertakes the command of a ship of his own."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">For reasons like these,</p> +<p class="i9">If your judgment agrees</p> +<p class="i9">That he did not embark</p> +<p class="i9">Like an ignorant spark,</p> +<p class="i9">Or a troublesome lout,</p> +<p class="i6">To puzzle and bother, and blunder about,</p> +<p class="i9">Give him a shout,</p> +<p class="i9">At his first setting out!</p> +<p class="i9">And all pull away</p> +<p class="i9">With a hearty huzza</p> +<p class="i9">For success to the play!</p> +<p class="i9">Send him away,</p> +<p class="i9">Smiling and gay,</p> +<p class="i9">Shining and florid,</p> +<p class="i9">With his bald forehead!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_CLOUD_CHORUS"></a> <b>THE CLOUD +CHORUS</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">From 'The Clouds': Andrew Lang's Translation</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">SOCRATES SPEAKS</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i1">Hither, come hither, ye Clouds renowned, and unveil +yourselves here;</p> +<p class="i2">Come, though ye dwell on the sacred crests of +Olympian snow,</p> +<p class="i1">Or whether ye dance with the Nereid Choir in the +gardens clear,</p> +<p class="i2">Or whether your golden urns are dipped in Nile's +overflow,</p> +<p class="i6">Or whether you dwell by Mæotis mere</p> +<p class="i6">Or the snows of Mimas, arise! appear!</p> +<p class="i2">And hearken to us, and accept our gifts ere ye rise +and go.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE CLOUDS SING</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Immortal Clouds from the echoing shore</p> +<p class="i5">Of the father of streams from the sounding sea,</p> +<p class="i4">Dewy and fleet, let us rise and soar;</p> +<p class="i5">Dewy and gleaming and fleet are we!</p> +<p class="i4">Let us look on the tree-clad mountain-crest,</p> +<p class="i5">On the sacred earth where the fruits rejoice,</p> +<p class="i4">On the waters that murmur east and west,</p> +<p class="i5">On the tumbling sea with his moaning voice.</p> +<p class="i4">For unwearied glitters the Eye of the Air,</p> +<p class="i6">And the bright rays gleam;</p> +<p class="i4">Then cast we our shadows of mist, and fare</p> +<p class="i4">In our deathless shapes to glance everywhere</p> +<p class="i4">From the height of the heaven, on the land and +air,</p> +<p class="i6">And the Ocean Stream.</p> +<p class="i4">Let us on, ye Maidens that bring the Rain,</p> +<p class="i5">Let us gaze on Pallas's citadel,</p> +<p class="i4">In the country of Cecrops fair and dear,</p> +<p class="i5">The mystic land of the holy cell,</p> +<p class="i5">Where the Rites unspoken securely dwell,</p> +<p class="i4">And the gifts of the gods that know not stain,</p> +<p class="i5">And a people of mortals that know not fear.</p> +<p class="i4">For the temples tall and the statues fair,</p> +<p class="i4">And the feasts of the gods are holiest there;</p> +<p class="i4">The feasts of Immortals, the chaplets of flowers,</p> +<p class="i5">And the Bromian mirth at the coming of spring,</p> +<p class="i4">And the musical voices that fill the hours,</p> +<p class="i5">And the dancing feet of the maids that sing!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="GRAND_CHORUS_OF_BIRDS"></a> <b>GRAND +CHORUS OF BIRDS</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From 'The Birds': Swinburne's Translation</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Come on then, ye dwellers by nature in darkness, and like to the +leaves' generations,</p> +<p>That are little of might, that are molded of mire, unenduring +and shadowlike nations,</p> +<p>Poor plumeless ephemerals, comfortless mortals, as visions of +shadows fast fleeing,</p> +<p>Lift up your mind unto us that are deathless, and dateless the +date of our being;</p> +<p>Us, children of heaven, us, ageless for aye, us, all of whose +thoughts are eternal:</p> +<p>That ye may from henceforth, having heard of us all things +aright as to matters supernal,</p> +<p>Of the being of birds, and beginning of gods, and of streams, +and the dark beyond reaching,</p> +<p>Trustfully knowing aright, in my name bid Prodicus pack with his +preaching!</p> +<p>It was Chaos and Night at the first, and the blackness of +darkness, and Hell's broad border,</p> +<p>Earth was not, nor air, neither heaven; when in depths of the +womb of the dark without order</p> +<p>First thing, first-born of the black-plumed Night, was a +wind-egg hatched in her bosom,</p> +<p>Whence timely with seasons revolving again sweet Love burst out +as a blossom,</p> +<p>Gold wings glittering forth of his back, like whirlwinds gustily +turning.</p> +<p>He, after his wedlock with Chaos, whose wings are of darkness, +in Hell broad-burning,</p> +<p>For his nestlings begat him the race of us first, and upraised +us to light new-lighted.</p> +<p>And before this was not the race of the gods, until all things +by Love were united:</p> +<p>And of kind united in kind with communion of nature the sky and +the sea are</p> +<p>Brought forth, and the earth, and the race of the gods +everlasting and blest. So that we are</p> +<p>Far away the most ancient of all things blest. And that we are +of Love's generation</p> +<p>There are manifest manifold signs. We have wings, and with us +have the Loves habitation;</p> +<p>And manifold fair young folk that forswore love once, ere the +bloom of them ended,</p> +<p>Have the men that pursued and desired them subdued by the help +of us only befriended,</p> +<p>With such baits as a quail, a flamingo, a goose, or a cock's +comb staring and splendid.</p> +<p>All best good things that befall men come from us birds, as is +plain to all reason:</p> +<p>For first we proclaim and make known to them spring, and the +winter and autumn in season;</p> +<p>Bid sow, when the crane starts clanging for Afric in +shrill-voiced emigrant number,</p> +<p>And calls to the pilot to hang up his rudder again for the +season and slumber;</p> +<p>And then weave a cloak for Orestes the thief, lest he strip men +of theirs if it freezes.</p> +<p>And again thereafter the kite reappearing announces a change in +the breezes.</p> +<p>And that here is the season for shearing your sheep of their +spring wool. Then does the swallow</p> +<p>Give you notice to sell your great-coat, and provide something +light for the heat that's to follow.</p> +<p>Thus are we as Ammon or Delphi unto you. Dodona, nay, Phoebus +Apollo.</p> +<p>For, as first ye come all to get auguries of birds, even such is +in all things your carriage,</p> +<p>Be the matter a matter of trade, or of earning your bread, or of +any one's marriage.</p> +<p>And all things ye lay to the charge of a bird that belong to +discerning prediction:</p> +<p>Winged fame is a bird, as you reckon; you sneeze, and the sign's +as a bird for conviction;</p> +<p>All tokens are "birds" with you--sounds, too, and lackeys and +donkeys. Then must it not follow</p> +<p>That we are to you all as the manifest godhead that speaks in +prophetic Apollo?</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_RAINY_DAY_ON_THE_FARM"></a> <b>A +RAINY DAY ON THE FARM</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'The Peace': Frere's Translation</p> +<blockquote>How sweet it is to see the new-sown cornfield fresh and +even,<br> +With blades just springing from the soil that only ask a shower +from heaven.<br> +Then, while kindly rains are falling, indolently to rejoice,<br> +Till some worthy neighbor calling, cheers you with his hearty +voice.<br> +Well, with weather such as this, let us hear, Trygæus tell +us<br> +What should you and I be doing? You're the king of us good +fellows.<br> +Since it pleases heaven to prosper your endeavors, friend, and +mine,<br> +Let us have a merry meeting, with some friendly talk and wine.<br> +In the vineyard there's your lout, hoeing in the slop and mud--<br> +Send the wench and call him out, this weather he can do no +good.<br> +Dame, take down two pints of meal, and do some fritters in your +way;<br> +Boil some grain and stir it in, and let us have those figs, I +say.<br> +Send a servant to my house,--any one that you can spare,--<br> +Let him fetch a beestings pudding, two gherkins, and the pies of +hare:<br> +There should be four of them in all, if the cat has left them +right;<br> +We heard her racketing and tearing round the larder all last +night,<br> +Boy, bring three of them to us,--take the other to my father:<br> +Cut some myrtle for our garlands, sprigs in flower or blossoms +rather.<br> +Give a shout upon the way to Charinades our neighbor,<br> +To join our drinking bout to-day, since heaven is pleased to bless +our labor.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_HARVEST"></a> <b>THE +HARVEST</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From 'The Peace': Translation in the Quarterly Review</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Oh, 'tis sweet, when fields are ringing</p> +<p class="i6">With the merry cricket's singing,</p> +<p class="i6">Oft to mark with curious eye</p> +<p class="i6">If the vine-tree's time be nigh:</p> +<p class="i6">Here is now the fruit whose birth</p> +<p class="i6">Cost a throe to Mother Earth.</p> +<p class="i6">Sweet it is, too, to be telling,</p> +<p class="i6">How the luscious figs are swelling;</p> +<p class="i6">Then to riot without measure</p> +<p class="i6">In the rich, nectareous treasure,</p> +<p class="i6">While our grateful voices chime,--</p> +<p class="i6">Happy season! blessed time.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_CALL_TO_THE_NIGHTINGALE"></a> +<b>THE CALL TO THE NIGHTINGALE</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">From 'The Birds ': Frere's Translation</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Awake! awake!</p> +<p class="i7">Sleep no more, my gentle mate!</p> +<p class="i9">With your tiny tawny bill,</p> +<p class="i7">Wake the tuneful echo shrill,</p> +<p class="i9">On vale or hill;</p> +<p class="i7">Or in her airy rocky seat,</p> +<p class="i7">Let her listen and repeat</p> +<p class="i7">The tender ditty that you tell,</p> +<p class="i9">The sad lament,</p> +<p class="i9">The dire event,</p> +<p class="i7">To luckless Itys that befell.</p> +<p class="i9">Thence the strain</p> +<p class="i9">Shall rise again,</p> +<p class="i9">And soar amain,</p> +<p class="i7">Up to the lofty palace gate</p> +<p class="i6">Where mighty Apollo sits in state</p> +<p class="i6">In Jove's abode, with his ivory lyre,</p> +<p class="i6">Hymning aloud to the heavenly choir,</p> +<p class="i6">While all the gods shall join with thee</p> +<p class="i6">In a celestial symphony.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<blockquote><a name="THE_BUILDING_OF_CLOUD-CUCKOO-TOWN"></a> <b>THE +BUILDING OF CLOUD-CUCKOO-TOWN</b></blockquote> +<p>From 'The Birds ': Frere's Translation</p> +[<i>Enter Messenger, quite out of breath, and speaking in short +snatches</i>.]<br> +<br> +<i>Messenger</i>--Where is he? Where? Where is he? Where? Where<br> +is he?--The president Peisthetairus?<br> +<br> +<i>Peisthetairus [coolly</i>]--Here am I.<br> +<br> +<i>Mess. [in a gasp of breath</i>]--Your fortification's +finished.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis</i>.--Well! that's well.<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--A most amazing, astonishing work it is!<br> +So that Theagenes and Proxenides<br> +Might flourish and gasconade and prance away<br> +Quite at their ease, both of them four-in-hand,<br> +Driving abreast upon the breadth of wall,<br> +Each in his own new chariot.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis</i>.--You surprise me.<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--And the height (for I made the measurement +myself)<br> +Is exactly a hundred fathoms.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis</i>.--Heaven and earth!<br> +How could it be? such a mass! who could have built it?<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--The Birds; no creature else, no foreigners,<br> +Egyptian bricklayers, workmen or masons.<br> +But they themselves, alone, by their own efforts,--<br> +(Even to my surprise, as an eye-witness)<br> +The Birds, I say, completed everything:<br> +There came a body of thirty thousand cranes,<br> +(I won't be positive, there might be more)<br> +With stones from Africa in their craws and gizzards,<br> +Which the stone-curlews and stone-chatterers<br> +Worked into shape and finished. The sand-martens<br> +And mud-larks, too, were busy in their department,<br> +Mixing the mortar, while the water-birds,<br> +As fast as it was wanted, brought the water<br> +To temper and work it.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis. [in a fidget</i>]--But who served the masons<br> +Who did you get to carry it?<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--To carry it?<br> +Of course, the carrion crows and carrying pigeons.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis. [in a fuss, which he endeavors to conceal</i>]--<br> +Yes! yes! but after all, to load your hods,<br> +How did you manage that?<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--Oh, capitally,<br> +I promise you. There were the geese, all barefoot<br> +Trampling the mortar, and when all was ready<br> +They handed it into the hods, so cleverly,<br> +With their flat feet!<br> +<br> +<i>Peis. [a bad joke, as a vent for irritation</i>]--<br> + They +footed it, you mean--<br> +Come; it was handily done though, I confess.<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--Indeed, I assure you, it was a sight to see them;<br> +And trains of ducks there were, clambering the ladders<br> +With their duck legs, like bricklayers' 'prentices,<br> +All dapper and handy, with their little trowels.<br> +<br> +<i>Peis</i>.--In fact, then, it's no use engaging foreigners;<br> +Mere folly and waste, we've all within ourselves.<br> +Ah, well now, come! But about the woodwork? Heh!<br> +Who were the carpenters? Answer me that!<br> +<br> +<i>Mess</i>.--The woodpeckers, of course: and there they were,<br> +Laboring upon the gates, driving and banging,<br> +With their hard hatchet-beaks, and such a din,<br> +Such a clatter, as they made, hammering and hacking,<br> +In a perpetual peal, pelting away<br> +Like shipwrights, hard at work in the arsenal.<br> +And now their work is finished, gates and all,<br> +Staples and bolts, and bars and everything;<br> +The sentries at their posts; patrols appointed;<br> +The watchman in the barbican; the beacons<br> +Ready prepared for lighting; all their signals<br> +Arranged--but I'll step out, just for a moment,<br> +To wash my hands. You'll settle all the rest.<br> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHORUS_OF_WOMEN"></a> <b>CHORUS OF +WOMEN</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">From the 'Thesmophoriazusæ': Collins's +Translation</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">They're always abusing the women,</p> +<p class="i7">As a terrible plague to men:</p> +<p class="i6">They say we're the root of all evil,</p> +<p class="i7">And repeat it again and again;</p> +<p class="i6">Of war, and quarrels, and bloodshed,</p> +<p class="i7">All mischief, be what it may!</p> +<p class="i6">And pray, then, why do you marry us,</p> +<p class="i7">If we're all the plagues you say?</p> +<p class="i6">And why do you take such care of us,</p> +<p class="i7">And keep us so safe at home,</p> +<p class="i6">And are never easy a moment</p> +<p class="i7">If ever we chance to roam?</p> +<p class="i6">When you ought to be thanking heaven</p> +<p class="i7">That your Plague is out of the way,</p> +<p class="i6">You all keep fussing and fretting--</p> +<p class="i7">"Where is <i>my</i> Plague to-day?"</p> +<p class="i6">If a Plague peeps out of the window,</p> +<p class="i7">Up go the eyes of men;</p> +<p class="i6">If she hides, then they all keep staring</p> +<p class="i7">Until she looks out again.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHORUS_OF_MYSTAE_IN_HADES"></a> +<b>CHORUS OF MYSTÆ IN HADES</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'The Frogs': Frere's Translation</p> +<blockquote>CHORUS [<i>shouting and singing</i>']<br> +<br> +Iacchus! Iacchus! Ho!<br> +<br> +Iacchus! Iacchus! Ho!<br> +<br> +<i>Xanthias</i>--There, master, there they are, the initiated<br> + All +sporting about as he told us we should find 'em.<br> + They're +singing in praise of Bacchus like Diagoras.<br> +<i>Bacchus</i>--Indeed, and so they are; but we'll keep quiet<br> +Till we make them out a little more distinctly.<br> +<br> +<br> +CHORUS [<i>song</i>]<br> +<br> +Mighty Bacchus! Holy Power!<br> +Hither at the wonted hour<br> + Come away,<br> + Come away,<br> +With the wanton holiday,<br> +Where the revel uproar leads<br> +To the mystic holy meads,<br> +Where the frolic votaries fly,<br> +With a tipsy shout and cry;<br> +Flourishing the Thyrsus high,<br> +Flinging forth, alert and airy,<br> +To the sacred old vagary,<br> +The tumultuous dance and song,<br> +Sacred from the vulgar throng;<br> +Mystic orgies that are known<br> +To the votaries alone--<br> +To the mystic chorus solely--<br> +Secret unrevealed--and holy.<br> +<i>Xan</i>.--O glorious virgin, daughter of the Goddess!<br> + What +a scent of roasted griskin reached my senses!<br> +<i>Bac</i>.--Keep quiet--and watch for a chance of a piece of the +haslets.<br> +<br> +<br> +CHORUS [<i>song</i>]<br> +<br> +Raise the fiery torches high!<br> +Bacchus is approaching nigh,<br> +Like the planet of the morn<br> +Breaking with the hoary dawn<br> + On the dark solemnity--<br> +There they flash upon the sight;<br> +All the plain is blazing bright,<br> +Flushed and overflown with light:<br> +Age has cast his years away,<br> +And the cares of many a day,<br> +Sporting to the lively lay--<br> +Mighty Bacchus! march and lead<br> +(Torch in hand toward the mead)<br> +Thy devoted humble Chorus;<br> +Mighty Bacchus--move before us!<br> +Keep silence--keep peace--and let all the profane<br> +From our holy solemnity duly refrain;<br> +Whose souls, unenlightened by taste, are obscure;<br> +Whose poetical notions are dark and impure;<br> + Whose +theatrical conscience<br> + Is sullied by +nonsense;<br> +Who never were trained by the mighty Cratinus<br> +In mystical orgies, poetic and vinous;<br> +Who delight in buffooning and jests out of season;<br> +Who promote the designs of oppression and treason;<br> +Who foster sedition and strife and debate;<br> +All traitors, in short, to the Stage and the State:<br> +Who surrender a fort, or in private export<br> +To places and harbors of hostile resort<br> +Clandestine consignments of cables and pitch,--<br> +In the way that Thorycion grew to be rich<br> +From a scoundrelly dirty collector of tribute:<br> +All such we reject and severely prohibit;<br> +All statesmen retrenching the fees and the salaries<br> +Of theatrical bards, in revenge for the railleries<br> +And jests and lampoons of this holy solemnity,<br> +Profanely pursuing their personal enmity,<br> +For having been flouted and scoffed and scorned--<br> +All such are admonished and heartily warned;<br> + We warn them +once,<br> + We warn them +twice,<br> +We warn and admonish--we warn them thrice,<br> + To conform to +the law,<br> + To retire and +withdraw;<br> + While the Chorus again with the formal saw,<br> + (Fixt and assign'd to the festive day)<br> + Move to the measure and march away.<br> +<br> +<br> +SEMI-CHORUS<br> +<br> +March! march! lead forth,<br> + Lead forth manfully,<br> + March in order all;<br> +Bustling, hustling, justling,<br> + As it may befall;<br> +Flocking, shouting, laughing,<br> +Mocking, flouting, quaffing,<br> + One and all;<br> + All have had a belly-full<br> +Of breakfast brave and plentiful;<br> + Therefore<br> + Evermore<br> + With your voices and your bodies<br> + Serve the goddess,<br> + And raise<br> + Songs of praise;<br> + She shall save the country still,<br> +And save it against the traitor's will;<br> + So she says.<br> +<br> +<br> + SEMI-CHORUS<br> +<br> +Now let us raise in a different strain<br> +The praise of the goddess, the giver of grain;<br> + +Imploring her favor<br> + +With other behavior,<br> +In measures more sober, submissive, and graver.<br> +<br> +<br> + +SEMI-CHORUS<br> +<br> + +Ceres, holy patroness,<br> + Condescend +to mark and bless,<br> + +With benevolent regard,<br> + Both +the Chorus and the Bard;<br> + Grant +them for the present day<br> + Many +things to sing and say,<br> + Follies +intermixed with sense;<br> + Folly, +but without offense.<br> + Grant +them with the present play<br> + To +bear the prize of verse away.<br> +<br> +<br> + +SEMI-CHORUS<br> +<br> +Now call again, and with a different measure,<br> + The power of mirth and pleasure;<br> +The florid, active Bacchus, bright and gay,<br> +To journey forth and join us on the way.<br> +<br> +<br> + +SEMI-CHORUS<br> +<br> +O Bacchus, attend! the customary patron of every lively lay;<br> + +Go forth without delay<br> + +Thy wonted annual way,<br> + To meet the +ceremonious holy matron:<br> + +Her grave procession gracing,<br> + +Thine airy footsteps tracing<br> + With +unlaborious, light, celestial motion;<br> + And here at +thy devotion<br> + Behold thy +faithful choir<br> + In +pitiful attire:<br> + All overworn +and ragged,<br> + This jerkin +old and jagged,<br> + These +buskins torn and burst,<br> + Though +sufferers in the fray,<br> + May serve us +at the worst<br> + To +sport throughout the day;<br> + And then +within the shades<br> + I spy some +lovely maids<br> + With whom we romped and +reveled,<br> + Dismantled +and disheveled,<br> + With their +bosoms open,--<br> + With whom we might be +coping.<br> + <i>Xan</i>.--Well, I was always hearty,<br> + Disposed +to mirth and ease:<br> + I'm ready to +join the party.<br> + <i>Bac</i>.--And I will if you +please.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name= +"A_PARODY_OF_EURIPIDESS_LYRIC_VERSE"></a> <b>A PARODY OF +EURIPIDES'S LYRIC VERSE</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">From 'The Frogs'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Halcyons ye by the flowing sea</p> +<p class="i6">Waves that warble twitteringly,</p> +<p class="i6">Circling over the tumbling blue,</p> +<p class="i6">Dipping your down in its briny dew,</p> +<p class="i6">Spi-i-iders in corners dim</p> +<p class="i6">Spi-spi-spinning your fairy film,</p> +<p class="i6">Shuttles echoing round the room</p> +<p class="i6">Silver notes of the whistling loom,</p> +<p class="i6">Where the light-footed dolphin skips</p> +<p class="i6">Down the wake of the dark-prowed ships,</p> +<p class="i6">Over the course of the racing steed</p> +<p class="i6">Where the clustering tendrils breed</p> +<p class="i6">Grapes to drown dull care in delight,</p> +<p class="i4">Oh! mother make me a child again just for +to-night!</p> +<p class="i4">I don't exactly see how that last line is to +scan,</p> +<p class="i4">But that's a consideration I leave to our musical +man.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_PROLOGUES_OF_EURIPIDES"></a> <b>THE +PROLOGUES OF EURIPIDES</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'The Frogs'</p> +<br> +<p>[The point of the following selection lies in the monotony of +both narrative style and metre in Euripides's prologues, and +especially his regular cæsura after the fifth syllable of a +line. The burlesque tag used by Aristophanes to demonstrate this +effect could not be applied in the same way to any of the fourteen +extant plays of Sophocles and Æschylus.]</p> +<i>Æschylus</i>--And by Jove, I'll not stop to cut up your +verses<br> +word by word, but if the gods are propitious I'll spoil<br> +all your prologues with a little flask of smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Euripides</i>--With a flask of smelling-salts?<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.--With a single one. For you build your verses so +that<br> +anything will fit into the metre,--a leathern sack,<br> +or eider-down, or smelling-salts. I'll show you.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--So, you'll show me, will you?<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.--I will that.<br> +<br> +<i>Dionysus</i>--Pronounce.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>. [<i>declaiming</i>]--<br> +<br> +Ægyptus, as broad-bruited fame reports,<br> +With fifty children voyaging the main<br> +To Argos came, and<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--What the mischief have the smelling-salts got to do +with<br> +it? Recite another prologue to him and let me see.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--<br> +<br> +Dionysus, thyrsus-armed and faun-skin-clad,<br> +Amid the torchlights on Parnassus's slope<br> +Dancing and prancing<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--Caught out again by the smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--No matter. Here's a prologue that he can't fit 'em +to.<br> +<br> +No lot of mortal man is wholly blest:<br> +The high-born youth hath lacked the means of life,<br> +The lowly lout hath<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--Euripides--<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.-- Well, what?<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.-- Best take in sail.<br> +<br> +These smelling-salts, methinks, will blow a gale.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--What do I care? I'll fix him next time.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--Well, recite another, and steer clear of the +smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--<br> +<br> +Cadmus departing from the town of Tyre,<br> +Son of Agenor<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--My dear fellow, buy those smelling-salts, or there +won't<br> +be a rag left of all your prologues.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--What? I buy 'em of him?<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--If you'll be advised by me.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--Not a bit of it. I've lots of prologues where he +can't<br> +work 'em in.<br> +<br> +Pelops the Tantalid to Pisa coming<br> +With speedy coursers<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--There they are again, you see. Do let him have +'em,<br> +my good Æschylus. You can replace 'em for a<br> +nickel.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--Never. I've not run out yet.<br> +<br> + Oeneus +from broad fields<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.--- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--Let me say the whole verse, won't you?<br> +<br> +Oeneus from broad fields reaped a mighty crop<br> +And offering first-fruits<br> +<br> +<i>Æsch</i>.-- --lost his smelling-salts.<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--While sacrificing? Who filched them?<br> +<br> +<i>Eur</i>.--Oh, never mind him. Let him try it on this +verse:--<br> +<br> +Zeus, as the word of sooth declared of old--<br> +<br> +<i>Dion</i>.--It's no use, he'll say Zeus lost his smelling-salts. +For<br> +those smelling-salts fit your prologues like a kid<br> +glove. But go on and turn your attention to his<br> +lyrics.<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ARISTOTLE"></a>ARISTOTLE</h2> +<h3>(B.C. 384-322)</h3> +<h3>BY THOMAS DAVIDSON</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he "Stagirite," called by Eusebius "Nature's private secretary," +and by Dante "the master of those that know,"--the greatest thinker +of the ancient world, and the most influential of all time,--was +born of Greek parents at Stagira, in the mountains of Macedonia, in +B.C. 384. Of his mother, Phæstis, almost nothing is known. +His father, Nicomachus, belonged to a medical family, and acted as +private physician to Amyntas, grandfather of Alexander the Great; +whence it is probable that Aristotle's boyhood was passed at or +near the Macedonian court. Losing both his parents while a mere +boy, he was taken charge of by a relative, Proxenus Atarneus, and +sent, at the age of seventeen, to Athens to study. Here he entered +the school of Plato, where he remained twenty years, as pupil and +as teacher. During this time he made the acquaintance of the +leading contemporary thinkers, read omnivorously, amassed an amount +of knowledge that seems almost fabulous, schooled himself in +systematic thought, and (being well off) collected a library, +perhaps the first considerable private library in the world. Having +toward the end felt obliged to assume an independent attitude in +thought, he was not at the death of Plato (347) appointed his +successor in the Academy, as might have been expected. Not wishing +at that time to set up a rival school, he retired to the court of a +former fellow-pupil, Hermias, then king of Assos and Atarneus, whom +he greatly respected, and whose adopted daughter, Pythias, he later +married. Here he remained, pursuing his studies, for three years; +and left only when his patron was treacherously murdered by the +Persians.</p> +<p>Having retired to Mitylene, he soon afterward received an +invitation from Philip of Macedonia to undertake the education of +his son Alexander, then thirteen years old. Aristotle willingly +obeyed this summons; and retiring with his royal pupil to Mieza, a +town southwest of Pella, imparted his instruction in the +Nymphæum, which he had arranged in imitation of Plato's +garden school. Alexander remained with him three years, and was +then called by his father to assume important State duties. Whether +Aristotle's instruction continued after that is uncertain; but the +two men remained fast friends, and there can be no doubt that much +of the nobility, self-control, largeness of purpose, and enthusiasm +for culture, which characterized Alexander's subsequent career, +were due to the teaching of the philosopher. What Aristotle was in +the world of thought, Alexander became in the world of action.</p> +<a name="illus0788.jpg"></a><br> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0788.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>Aristotle remained in Macedonia ten years, giving instruction to +young Macedonians and continuing his own studies. He then returned +to Athens, and opened a school in the <i>peripatos</i>, or +promenade, of the Lyceum, the gymnasium of the foreign residents, a +school which from its location was called the Peripatetic. Here he +developed a manifold activity. He pursued all kinds of studies, +logical, rhetorical, physical, metaphysical, ethical, political, +and aesthetic, gave public (exoteric) and private (esoteric) +instruction, and composed the bulk of the treatises which have made +his name famous. These treatises were composed slowly, in +connection with his lectures, and subjected to frequent revision. +He likewise endeavored to lead an ideal social life with his +friends and pupils, whom he gathered under a common roof to share +meals and elevated converse in common.</p> +<p>Thus affairs went on for twelve fruitful years, and might have +gone on longer, but for the sudden death of Alexander, his friend +and patron. Then the hatred of the Athenians to the conqueror +showed itself in hostility to his old master, and sought for means +to put him out of the way. How hard it was to find a pretext for so +doing is shown by the fact that they had to fix upon the poem which +he had written on the death of his friend Hermias many years +before, and base upon it--as having the form of the paean, sacred +to Apollo--a charge of impiety. Aristotle, recognizing the utter +flimsiness of the charge, and being unwilling, as he said, to allow +the Athenians to sin a second time against philosophy, retired +beyond their reach to his villa at Chalcis in Euboea, where he died +of stomach disease the year after (322). In the later years of his +life, the friendship between him and his illustrious pupil had, +owing to certain outward circumstances, become somewhat cooled; but +there never was any serious breach. His body was carried to +Stagira, which he had induced Philip to restore after it had been +destroyed, and whose inhabitants therefore looked upon him as the +founder of the city. As such he received the religious honors +accorded to heroes: an altar was erected to him, at which an annual +festival was celebrated in the month named after him.</p> +<p>We may sum up the character of Aristotle by saying that he was +one of the sanest and most rounded men that ever lived. As a +philosopher, he stands in the front rank. "No time," says Hegel, +"has a man to place by his side." Nor was his moral character +inferior to his intellect. No one can read his 'Ethics,' or his +will (the text of which is extant), without feeling the nobleness, +simplicity, purity, and modernness of his nature. In his family +relations, especially, he seems to have stood far above his +contemporaries. The depth of his aesthetic perception is attested +by his poems and his 'Poetics.'</p> +<p>The unsatisfactory and fragmentary condition in which +Aristotle's works have come down to us makes it difficult to judge +of his style. Many of them seem mere collections of notes and +jottings for lectures, without any attempt at style. The rest are +distinguished by brevity, terseness, and scientific precision. No +other man ever enriched philosophic language with so many original +expressions. We know, from the testimony of most competent judges, +such as Cicero, that his popular writings, dialogues, etc., were +written in an elegant style, casting even that of Plato into the +shade; and this is borne fully out by some extant fragments.</p> +<p>Greek philosophy culminates in Aristotle. Setting out with a +naïve acceptance of the world as being what it seemed, and +trying to reduce this Being to some material principle, such as +water, air, etc., it was gradually driven, by force of logic, to +distinguish Being from Seeming, and to see that while the latter +was dependent on the thinking subject, the former could not be +anything material. This result was reached by both the +materialistic and spiritualistic schools, and was only carried one +step further by the Sophists, who maintained that even the being of +things depended on the thinker. This necessarily led to skepticism, +individualism, and disruption of the old social and religious +order.</p> +<p>Then arose Socrates, greatest of the Sophists, who, seeing that +the outer world had been shown to depend on the inner, adopted as +his motto, "Know Thyself," and devoted himself to the study of +mind. By his dialectic method he showed that skepticism and +individualism, so far as anarchic, can be overcome by carrying out +thought to its implications; when it proves to be the same for all, +and to bring with it an authority binding on all, and replacing +that of the old external gods. Thus Socrates discovered the +principle of human liberty, a principle necessarily hostile to the +ancient State, which absorbed the man in the citizen. Socrates was +accordingly put to death as an atheist; and then Plato, with good +intentions but prejudiced insight, set to work to restore the old +tyranny of the State. This he did by placing truth, or reality +(which Socrates had found in complete thought, internal to the +mind), outside of both thought and nature, and making it consist of +a group of eternal schemes, or forms, of which natural things are +merely transient phantoms, and which can be reached by only a few +aristocratic souls, born to rule the rest. On the basis of this +distortion he constructed his Republic, in which complete despotism +is exercised by the philosophers through the military; man is +reduced to a machine, his affections and will being disregarded; +community of women and of property is the law; and science is +scouted.</p> +<p>Aristotle's philosophy may be said to be a protest against this +view, and an attempt to show that reality is embodied in nature, +which depends on a supreme intelligence, and may be realized in +other intelligences, or thought-centres, such as the human mind. In +other words, according to Aristotle, truth is actual in the world +and potential in all minds, which may by experience put on its +forms. Thus the individualism of the Sophists and the despotism of +Plato are overcome, while an important place is made for +experience, or science.</p> +<p>Aristotle, accepting the world of common-sense, tried to +rationalize it; that is, to realize it in himself. First among the +Greeks he believed it to be unique, uncreated, and eternal, and +gave his reasons. Recognizing that the phenomenal world exists in +change, he investigated the principle and method of this. Change he +conceives as a transition from potentiality to actuality, and as +always due to something actualized, communicating its form to +something potential. Looking at the "world" as a whole, and +picturing it as limited, globular, and constructed like an onion, +with the earth in the centre, and round about it nine concentric +spheres carrying the planets and stars, he concludes that there +must be at one end something purely actual and therefore +unchanging,--that is, pure form or energy; and at the other, +something purely potential and therefore changing,--that is, pure +matter or latency. The pure actuality is at the circumference, pure +matter at the centre. Matter, however, never exists without some +form. Thus, nature is an eternal circular process between the +actual and the potential. The supreme Intelligence, God, being pure +energy, changelessly thinks himself, and through the love inspired +by his perfection moves the outmost sphere; which would move all +the rest were it not for inferior intelligences, fifty-six in +number, who, by giving them different directions, diversify the +divine action and produce the variety of the world. The celestial +world is composed of eternal matter, or aether, whose only change +is circular motion; the sublunary world is composed of changing +matter, in four different but mutually transmutable forms--fire, +air, water, earth--movable in two opposite directions, in straight +lines, under the ever-varying influence of the celestial +spheres.</p> +<p>Thus the world is an organism, making no progress as a whole, +but continually changing in its various parts. In it all real +things are individuals, not universals, as Plato thought. And forms +pass from individual to individual only. Peleus, not humanity, is +the parent of Achilles; the learned man only can teach the +ignorant. In the world-process there are several distinct stages, +to each of which Aristotle devotes a special work, or series of +works. Beginning with the "four elements" and their changes, he +works up through the mineral, vegetable, and animal worlds, to man, +and thence through the spheral intelligences to the supreme, divine +intelligence, on which the Whole depends. Man stands on the +dividing line between the temporal and the eternal; belonging with +his animal part to the former, with his intelligence (which "enters +from without") to the latter. He is an intelligence, of the same +nature as the sphere-movers, but individuated by mutable matter in +the form of a body, matter being in all cases the principle of +individuation. As intelligence, he becomes free; takes the guidance +of his life into his own hand; and, first through ethics, politics, +and aesthetics, the forms of his sensible or practical activity, +and second through logic, science, and philosophy, the forms of his +intellectual activity, he rises to divine heights and "plays the +immortal." His supreme activity is contemplation. This, the eternal +energy of God, is possible for man only at rare intervals.</p> +<p>Aristotle, by placing his eternal forms in sensible things as +their meaning, made science possible and necessary. Not only is he +the father of scientific method, inductive and deductive, but his +actual contributions to science place him in the front rank of +scientists. His Zoölogy, Psychology, Logic, Metaphysics, +Ethics, Politics, and Aesthetics, are still highly esteemed and +extensively studied. At the same time, by failing to overcome the +dualism and supernaturalism of Plato, by adopting the popular +notions about spheres and sphere-movers, by separating intelligence +from sense, by conceiving matter as independent and the principle +of individuation, and by making science relate only to the +universal, he paved the way for astrology, alchemy, magic, and all +the forms of superstition, retarding the advance of several +sciences, as for example astronomy and chemistry, for many hundred +years.</p> +<p>After Aristotle's death, his school was continued by a +succession of studious and learned men, but did not for many +centuries deeply affect contemporary life. At last, in the fifth +century A.D., his thought found its way into the Christian schools, +giving birth to rationalism and historical criticism. At various +times its adherents were condemned as heretics and banished, mostly +to Syria. Here, at Edessa and Nisibis, they established schools of +learning which for several centuries were the most famous in the +world. The entire works of Aristotle were turned into Syriac; among +them several spurious ones of Neo-Platonic origin, notably the +famous 'Liber de Causis' and the 'Theology of Aristotle.' Thus a +Neo-Platonic Aristotle came to rule Eastern learning. On the rise +of Islâm, this Aristotle was borrowed by the Muslims, and +became ruler of their schools at Bagdad, Basra, and other +places,--schools which produced many remarkable men. On the decay +of these, he passed in the twelfth century into the schools of +Spain, and here ruled supreme until Arab philosophy was suppressed, +shortly before 1200. From the Arabs he passed into the Christian +Church about this date; and though at first resisted, was finally +accepted, and became "the philosopher" of the schools, and the +inspirer of Dante. The Reformers, though decrying him, were forced +to have recourse to him; but his credit was not re-established +until the present century, when, thanks to Hegel, Trendelenburg, +Brandis, and the Berlin Academy, his true value was recognized and +his permanent influence insured.</p> +<p>The extant works of Aristotle, covering the whole field of +science, may be classified as follows:--</p> +<p>A. <i>Logical or Formal</i>, dealing with the form rather than +the matter of science:--'Categories,' treating of Being and its +determination, which, being regarded ontologically, bring the work +into the metaphysical sphere; 'On Interpretation,' dealing with the +proposition; 'Former Analytics,' theory of the syllogism; 'Later +Analytics,' theory of proof; 'Topics,' probable proofs; +'Sophistical proofs,' fallacies. These works were later united by +the Stoics under the title 'Organon,' or Instrument (of +science).</p> +<p>B. <i>Scientific or Philosophical</i>, dealing with the matter +of science. These may be subdivided into three classes: (<i>a</i>) +Theoretical, (<i>b</i>) Practical, (<i>c</i>) Creative.</p> +<p>(<i>a</i>) The <i>Theoretical</i> has further subdivisions: +(<i>a</i>) Metaphysical, (<i>b</i>) Physical, (<i>c</i>) +Mathematical.--(<i>a</i>) The Metaphysical works include the +incomplete collection under the name 'Metaphysics,'--(<i>b</i>) The +Physical works include 'Physics,' 'On the Heavens,' 'On Generation +and Decay,' 'On the Soul,' with eight supplementary tracts on +actions of the soul as combined with the body; viz., 'On Sense and +Sensibles,' 'On Memory and Reminiscence,' 'On Sleep and Waking,' +'On Dreams,' 'On Divination from Dreams,' 'On Length and Shortness +of Life,' 'On Life and Death,' 'On Respiration,' 'Meteorologics,' +'Histories of Animals' (Zoögraphy). 'On the Parts of Animals,' +'On the Generation of Animals,' 'On the Motion of Animals,' +'Problems' (largely spurious). 'On the Cosmos,' 'Physiognomies,' +'On Wonderful Auditions,' 'On Colors.'--The Mathematical works +include 'On Indivisible Lines,' 'Mechanics.'</p> +<p>(<i>b</i>) The <i>Practical</i> works are 'Nicomachean Ethics,' +'Endemean Ethics,' 'Great Ethics' ('Magna Moralia'), really +different forms of the same work; 'Politics,' 'Constitutions' +(originally one hundred and fifty-eight in number; now represented +only by the recently discovered 'Constitution of Athens'), 'On +Virtues and Vices,' 'Rhetoric to Alexander,' 'Oeconomics.'</p> +<p>(<i>c</i>) Of <i>Creative</i> works we have only the fragmentary +'Poetics.' To these may be added a few poems, one of which is given +here.</p> +<p>Besides the extant works of Aristotle, we have titles, +fragments, and some knowledge of the contents of a large number +more. Among these are the whole of the "exoteric" works, including +nineteen Dialogues. A list of his works, as arranged in the +Alexandrian Library (apparently), is given by Diogenes +Laërtius in his 'Life of Aristotle' (printed in the Berlin and +Paris editions of 'Aristotle'); a list in which it is not easy to +identify the whole of the extant works. The 'Fragments' appear in +both the editions just named. Some of the works named above are +almost certainly spurious; <i>e.g.</i>, the 'Rhetoric to +Alexander,' the 'Oeconomics,' etc.</p> +<p>The chief editions of Aristotle's works, exclusive of the +'Constitution of Athens,' are that of the Berlin Academy (Im. +Bekker), containing text, scholia, Latin translation, and Index in +Greek (5 vols., square 4to); and the Paris or Didot (Dübner, +Bussemaker, Heitz), containing text, Latin translation, and very +complete Index in Latin (5 vols., 4to). Of the chief works the best +editions are:--'Organon,' Waitz; 'Metaphysics,' Schwegler, Bonitz; +'Physics,' Prantl; 'Meteorologies,' Ideler; 'On the Generation of +Animals,' Aubert and Wimmer; 'Psychology,' Trendelenburg, Torstrik, +Wallace (with English translation); 'Nicomachean Ethics,' Grant, +Ramsauer, Susemihl; 'Politics,' Stahr, Susemihl; 'Constitution of +Athens,' Kenyon, Sandys; 'Poetics,' Susemihl, Vahlen, Butcher (with +English translation). There are few good English translations of +Aristotle's works; but among these may be mentioned Peter's +'Nicomachean Ethics,' Jowett's and Welldon's 'Politics,' and +Poste's 'Constitution of Athens.' There is a fair French +translation of the principal works by Barthélemy +St.-Hilaire. The Berlin Academy is now (1896) publishing the +ancient Greek commentaries on Aristotle in thirty-five quarto +volumes. The best work on Aristotle is that by E. Zeller, in Vol. +iii. of his 'Philosophie der Griechen.' The English works by Lewes +and Grote are inferior. For Bibliography, the student may consult +Ueberweg, 'Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophic,' Vol. i., +pages 196 <i>seq</i>.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-336.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_NATURE_OF_THE_SOUL"></a>THE NATURE OF THE +SOUL</h2> +<center>From 'On the Soul,' Book iii., Chapter 6</center> +<br> +<p>Concerning that part of the soul, however, by which the soul +knows (and is prudentially wise) whether it is separable or not +separable, according to magnitude, but according to reason, it must +be considered what difference it possesses, and how intellectual +perception is produced. If, therefore, to perceive intellectually +is the same thing as to perceive sensibly, it will either be to +suffer something from the intelligible, or something else of this +kind. It is necessary, however, that it should be impassive, but +capable of receiving form; and in capacity a thing of this kind, +but not this; and also, that as the sensitive power is to +sensibles, so should intellect be to intelligibles. It is +necessary, therefore, since it understands all things, that it +should be unmingled, as Anaxagoras says, that it may predominate: +but this is that it may know; for that which is foreign at the same +time presenting itself to the view, impedes and obstructs.</p> +<p>Hence, neither is there any other nature of it than this, that +it is possible. That, therefore, which is called the intellect of +soul (I mean the intellect by which the soul energizes +dianoetically and hypoleptically), is nothing in energy of beings +before it intellectually perceives them. Hence, neither is it +reasonable that it should be mingled with body; for thus it would +become a thing with certain quality, would be hot or cold, and +would have a certain organ in the same manner as the sensitive +power. Now, however, there is no organ of it. In a proper manner, +therefore, do they speak, who say that the soul is the place of +forms; except that this is not true of the whole soul, but of that +which is intellective; nor is it forms in entelecheia, but in +capacity. But that the impassivity of the sensitive and +intellective power is not similar, is evident in the sensoria and +in sense. For sense cannot perceive from a vehement sensible object +(as for instance, sounds from very loud sounds; nor from strong +odors and colors can it either see or smell): but intellect, when +it understands anything very intelligible, does not less understand +inferior concerns, but even understands them in a greater degree; +for the sensitive power is not without body, but intellect is +separate from body.</p> +<p>When however it becomes particulars, in such a manner as he is +said to possess scientific knowledge who scientifically knows in +energy (and this happens when it is able to energize through +itself), then also it is similarly in a certain respect in +capacity, yet not after the same manner as before it learnt or +discovered; and it is then itself able to understand itself. By the +sensitive power, therefore, it distinguishes the hot and the cold, +and those things of which flesh is a certain reason; but by another +power, either separate, or as an inflected line subsists with +reference to itself when it is extended, it distinguishes the +essence of flesh. Further still, in those things which consist in +ablation, the straight is as the flat nose; for it subsists with +the continued.</p> +<p>Some one, however, may question, if intellect is simple and +impassive and has nothing in common with anything, as Anaxagoras +says, how it can perceive intellectually, if to perceive +intellectually is to suffer something; for so far as something is +common to both, the one appears to act, but the other to suffer. +Again, it may also be doubted whether intellect is itself +intelligible. For either intellect will also be present with other +things, if it is not intelligible according to another thing, but +the intelligible is one certain thing in species; or it will have +something mingled, which will make it to be intelligible in the +same manner as other things. Or shall we say that to suffer +subsists according to something common? On which account, it was +before observed that intellect is in capacity, in a certain +respect, intelligibles, but is no one of them in entelecheia, +before it understands or perceives intellectually. But it is +necessary to conceive of it as of a table in which nothing is +written in entelecheia; which happens to be the case in intellect. +But in those things which have matter, each of the intelligibles is +in capacity only. Hence, intellect will not be present with them; +for the intellect of such things is capacity without matter. But +with intellect the intelligible will be present.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Since, however, in every nature there is something which is +matter to each genus (and this because it is all those in +capacity), and something which is the cause and affective, because +it produces all things (in such a manner as art is affected with +respect to matter), it is necessary that these differences should +also be inherent in the soul. And the one is an intellect of this +kind because it becomes all things; but the other because it +produces all things as a certain habit, such for instance as light. +For in a certain respect, light also causes colors which are in +capacity to be colors in energy. And this intellect is separate, +unmingled, and impassive, since it is in its essence energy; for +the efficient is always more honorable than the patient, and the +principle than matter. Science, also, in energy is the same as the +thing [which is scientifically known]. But science which is in +capacity is prior in time in the one [to science in energy]; +though, in short, neither [is capacity prior to energy] in time. It +does not, however, perceive intellectually at one time and at +another time not, but separate intellect is alone this very thing +which it is; and this alone is immortal and eternal. We do not, +however, remember because this is impassive; but the passive +intellect is corruptible, and without this the separate intellect +understands nothing.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_DIFFERENCE_BETWEEN_HISTORY_AND_POETRY"></a>ON +THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HISTORY AND POETRY, AND<br> +HOW HISTORICAL MATTER SHOULD BE USED IN POETRY</h2> +<center>From the 'Poetics,' Chapter 9</center> +<br> +<p>But it is evident from what has been said that it is not the +province of a poet to relate things which have happened, but such +as might have happened, and such things as are possible according +to probability, or which would necessarily have happened. For a +historian and a poet do not differ from each other because the one +writes in verse and the other in prose; for the history of +Herodotus might be written in verse, and yet it would be no less a +history with metre than without metre. But they differ in this, +that the one speaks of things which have happened, and the other of +such as might have happened. Hence, poetry is more philosophic, and +more deserving of attention, than history. For poetry speaks more +of universals, but history of particulars. But universal consists, +indeed, in relating or performing certain things which happen to a +man of a certain description, either probably or necessarily [to +which the aim of poetry is directed in giving names]; but +particular consists in narrating what [for example] Alcibiades did, +or what he suffered. In comedy, therefore, this is now become +evident. For comic poets having composed a fable through things of +a probable nature, they thus give whatever names they please to +their characters, and do not, like iambic poets, write poems about +particular persons. But in tragedy they cling to real names. The +cause, however, of this is, that the possible is credible. Things +therefore which have not yet been done, we do not yet believe to be +possible: but it is evident that things which have been done are +possible, for they would not have been done if they were +impossible.</p> +<p>Not indeed but that in some tragedies there are one or two known +names, and the rest are feigned; but in others there is no known +name, as for instance in 'The Flower of Agatho.' For in this +tragedy the things and the names are alike feigned, and yet it +delights no less. Hence, one must not seek to adhere entirely to +traditional fables, which are the subjects of tragedy. For it is +ridiculous to make this the object of search, because even known +subjects are known but to a few, though at the same time they +delight all men. From these things, therefore, it is evident that a +poet ought rather to be the author of fables than of metres, +inasmuch as he is a poet from imitation, and he imitates actions. +Hence, though it should happen that he relates things which have +happened, he is no less a poet. For nothing hinders but that some +actions which have happened are such as might both probably and +possibly have happened, and by [the narration of] such he is a +poet.</p> +<p>But of simple plots and actions, the episodic are the worst. But +I call the plot episodic, in which it is neither probable nor +necessary that the episodes follow each other. Such plots, however, +are composed by bad poets, indeed, through their own want of +ability; but by good poets, on account of the players. For, +introducing [dramatic] contests, and extending the plot beyond its +capabilities, they are frequently compelled to distort the +connection of the parts. But tragedy is not only an imitation of a +perfect action, but also of actions which are terrible and piteous, +and actions principally become such (and in a greater degree when +they happen contrary to opinion) on account of each other. For thus +they will possess more of the marvelous than if they happened from +chance and fortune; since also of things which are from fortune, +those appear to be most admirable which seem to happen as it were +by design. Thus the statue of Mityus at Argos killed him who was +the cause of the death of Mityus by falling as he was surveying it. +For such events as these seem not to take place casually. Hence it +is necessary that fables of this kind should be more beautiful.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_PHILOSOPHY"></a>ON PHILOSOPHY</h2> +<center>Quoted in Cicero's 'Nature of the Gods'</center> +<br> +<p>If there were men whose habitations had been always under +ground, in great and commodious houses, adorned with statues and +pictures, furnished with everything which they who are reputed +happy abound with: and if, without stirring from thence, they +should be informed of a certain divine power and majesty, and after +some time the earth should open and they should quit their dark +abode to come to us, where they should immediately behold the +earth, the seas, the heavens; should consider the vast extent of +the clouds and force of the winds; should see the sun and observe +his grandeur and beauty, and perceive that day is occasioned by the +diffusion of his light through the sky; and when night has obscured +the earth they should contemplate the heavens, bespangled and +adorned with stars, the surprising variety of the moon in her +increase and wane, the rising and setting of all the stars and the +inviolable regularity of their courses,--when, says he, "they +should see these things, they would undoubtedly conclude that there +are gods, and that these are their mighty works."</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_ESSENCES"></a>ON ESSENCES</h2> +<center>From 'The Metaphysics,' Book xi., Chapter I</center> +<br> +<p>The subject of theory (or speculative science) is +<i>essence</i>. In it are investigated the principles and causes of +essences. The truth is, if the All be regarded as a whole, essence +is its first (or highest) part. Also, if we consider the natural +order of the categories, essence stands at the head of the list; +then comes quality; then quantity. It is true that the other +categories, such as qualities and movements, are not in any +absolute sense at all, and the same is true of [negatives, such as] +not-white or not-straight. Nevertheless, we use such expressions as +"Not-white is."</p> +<p>Moreover, no one of the other categories is separable [or +independent]. This is attested by the procedure of the older +philosophers; for it was the principles, elements, and causes of +essence that were the objects of their investigations. The thinkers +of the present day, to be sure, are rather inclined to consider +universals as essence. For genera are universals, and these they +hold to be principles and essences, mainly because their mode of +investigation is a logical one. The older philosophers, on the +other hand, considered particular things to be essences; +<i>e.g.,</i> fire and earth, not body in general.</p> +<p>There are three essences. Two of these are sensible, one being +eternal and the other transient. The latter is obvious to all, in +the form of plants and animals; with regard to the former, there is +room for discussion, as to whether its elements are one or many. +The third, differing from the other two, is immutable and is +maintained by certain persons to be separable. Some make two +divisions of it, whereas others class together, as of one nature, +ideas and mathematical entities; and others again admit only the +latter. The first two essences belong to physical science, for they +are subject to change; the last belongs to another science, if +there is no principle common to all.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_COMMUNITY_OF_STUDIES"></a>ON COMMUNITY OF +STUDIES</h2> +<center>From 'The Politics,' Book 8</center> +<br> +<p>No one, therefore, can doubt that the legislator ought +principally to attend to the education of youth. For in cities +where this is neglected, the politics are injured. For every State +ought to be governed according to its nature; since the appropriate +manners of each polity usually preserve the polity, and establish +it from the beginning. Thus, appropriate democratic manners +preserve and establish a democracy, and oligarchic an oligarchy. +Always, however, the best manners are the cause of the best polity. +Further still, in all professions and arts, there are some things +which ought previously to be learnt, and to which it is requisite +to be previously accustomed, in order to the performance of their +several works,; so that it is evident that it is also necessary in +the practice of virtue.</p> +<p>Since, however, there is one purpose to every city, it is +evident that the education must necessarily be one and the same in +all cities; and that the attention paid to this should be common. +At the same time, also, no one ought to think that any person takes +care of the education of his children separately, and privately +teaches them that particular discipline which appears to him to be +proper. But it is necessary that the studies of the public should +be common. At the same time, also, no one ought to think that any +citizen belongs to him in particular, but that all the citizens +belong to the city; for each individual is a part of the city. The +care and attention, however, which are paid to each of the parts, +naturally look to the care and attention of the whole. And for +this, some one may praise the Lacedaemonians; for they pay very +great attention to their children, and this in common. It is +evident, therefore, that laws should be established concerning +education, and that it should be made common.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="HYMN_TO_VIRTUE"></a> <b>HYMN TO +VIRTUE</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Virtue, to men thou bringest care and toil;</p> +<p class="i5">Yet art thou life's best, fairest spoil!</p> +<p class="i5">O virgin goddess, for thy beauty's sake</p> +<p class="i4">To die is delicate in this our Greece,</p> +<p class="i5">Or to endure of pain the stern strong ache.</p> +<p class="i7">Such fruit for our soul's ease</p> +<p class="i4">Of joys undying, dearer far than gold</p> +<p class="i4">Or home or soft-eyed sleep, dost thou unfold!</p> +<p class="i6">It was for thee the seed of Zeus,</p> +<p class="i4">Stout Herakles, and Leda's twins, did choose</p> +<p class="i3">Strength-draining deeds, to spread abroad thy +name:</p> +<p class="i7">Smit with the love of thee</p> +<p class="i6">Aias and Achilleus went smilingly</p> +<p class="i3">Down to Death's portal, crowned with deathless +fame.</p> +<p class="i7">Now, since thou art so fair,</p> +<p class="i7">Leaving the lightsome air.</p> +<p class="i5">Atarneus' hero hath died gloriously.</p> +<p class="i3">Wherefore immortal praise shall be his guerdon:</p> +<p class="i3">His goodness and his deeds are made the burden</p> +<p class="i9">Of songs divine</p> +<p class="i6">Sung by Memory's daughters nine,</p> +<p class="i5">Hymning of hospitable Zeus the might</p> +<p class="i4">And friendship firm as fate in fate's despite.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">Translation of J. A. Symonds.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="JON_ARNASON"></a>JÓN ARNASON</h2> +<h3>(1819-1888)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-j.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>ón Arnason was born in 1819, at Hof. +Akàgaströnd, in Iceland, where his father, Arm +Illugason, was clergyman. After completing the course at the +Bessastad Latin School, at that time the most famous school in +Iceland, he took his first position as librarian of the so-called +Stiptbókasafn Islands (since 1881 called the National +Library), which office he held till 1887, when he asked to be +relieved from his official duties. During this period he had been +also the first librarian of the Reykjavik branch of the Icelandic +Literary Society; a teacher and the custodian of the library at the +Latin School, which in the mean time had been moved from Bessastad +to Reykjavik; secretary of the bishop, Helgi Thordersen, and +custodian of the growing collection of Icelandic antiquities which +has formed the nucleus of a national museum. He had found time, +besides, during these years, for considerable literary work; and +apart from several valuable bibliographies had, alone and in +collaboration, made important contributions to his native +literature. He died at Reykjavik in 1888.</p> +<p>His principal literary work, and that by which alone he is known +outside of Iceland, is the collection of folk-tales that appeared +in Iceland in 1862-64, in two volumes, with the title 'Islenzkar +Thoosögur og Æfintyri' (Icelandic Popular Legends and +Tales). A small preliminary collection, called 'Islenzk +Æfintyri' (Icelandic Tales), made in collaboration with +Magnus Grimsson, had been published in 1852. Subsequently, +Jón Arnason went to work single-handed to make an exhaustive +collection of the folk-tales of the country, which by traveling and +correspondence he drew from every nook and corner of Iceland. No +effort was spared to make the collection complete, and many years +were spent in this undertaking. The results were in every way +valuable. No more important collection of folk-tales exists in the +literature of any nation, and the work has become both a classic at +home and a most suggestive link in the comparative study of +folk-lore elsewhere. Arnason thus performed for his native land +what the Grimms did for Germany, and what Asbjörnsen and Moe +did for Norway. He has frequently been called the "Grimm of +Iceland." The stories of the collection have since found their way +all over the world, many of them having been translated into +English, German, French, and Danish.</p> +<p>In his transcription of the tales, Arnason has followed, even +more conscientiously, the plan of the Grimms in adhering to the +local or individual form in which the story had come to him in +writing or by oral transmission. We get in this way a perfect +picture of the national spirit, and a better knowledge of life and +environment in Iceland than from any other source. In these stories +there is much to say of elves and trolls, of ghosts and "fetches," +of outlaws and the devil. Magic plays an important part, and there +is the usual lore of beasts and plants. Many of them are but +variants of folk-tales that belong to the race. Others, however, +are as plainly local evolutions, which in their whole conception +are as weird and mysterious as the environment that has produced +them.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>All the stories are from '<a name= +"Icelandic_Legends"></a>Icelandic Legends': Translation of Powell +and Magnusson.</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_MERMAN"></a>THE MERMAN</h2> +<p>Long ago a farmer lived at Vogar, who was a mighty fisherman; +and of all the farms about, not one was so well situated with +regard to the fisheries as his.</p> +<p>One day, according to custom, he had gone out fishing; and +having cast down his line from the boat and waited awhile, found it +very hard to pull up again, as if there were something very heavy +at the end of it. Imagine his astonishment when he found that what +he had caught was a great fish, with a man's head and body! When he +saw that this creature was alive, he addressed it and said, "Who +and whence are you?"</p> +<p>"A merman from the bottom of the sea," was the reply.</p> +<p>The farmer then asked him what he had been doing when the hook +caught his flesh.</p> +<p>The other replied, "I was turning the cowl of my mother's +chimney-pot, to suit it to the wind. So let me go again, will +you?"</p> +<p>"Not for the present," said the fisherman. "You shall serve me +awhile first." So without more words he dragged him into the boat +and rowed to shore with him.</p> +<p>When they got to the boat-house, the fisherman's dog came to him +and greeted him joyfully, barking and fawning on him, and wagging +his tail. But his master's temper being none of the best, he struck +the poor animal; whereupon the merman laughed for the first +time.</p> +<p>Having fastened the boat, he went toward his house, dragging his +prize with him over the fields, and stumbling over a hillock which +lay in his way, cursed it heartily; whereupon the merman laughed +for the second time.</p> +<p>When the fisherman arrived at the farm, his wife came out to +receive him, and embraced him affectionately, and he received her +salutations with pleasure; whereupon the merman laughed for the +third time.</p> +<p>Then said the farmer to the merman, "You have laughed three +times, and I am curious to know why you have laughed. Tell me, +therefore."</p> +<p>"Never will I tell you," replied the merman, "unless you promise +to take me to the same place in the sea wherefrom you caught me, +and there to let me go free again." So the farmer made him the +promise.</p> +<p>"Well," said the merman, "I laughed the first time because you +struck your dog, whose joy at meeting you was real and sincere. The +second time, because you cursed the mound over which you stumbled, +which is full of golden ducats. And the third time, because you +received with pleasure your wife's empty and flattering embrace, +who is faithless to you, and a hypocrite. And now be an honest man, +and take me out to the sea whence you brought me."</p> +<p>The farmer replied, "Two things that you have told me I have no +means of proving; namely, the faithfulness of my dog and the +faithlessness of my wife. But the third I will try the truth of; +and if the hillock contain gold, then I will believe the rest."</p> +<p>Accordingly he went to the hillock, and having dug it up, found +therein a great treasure of golden ducats, as the merman had told +him. After this the farmer took the merman down to the boat, and to +that place in the sea whence he had brought him. Before he put him +in, the latter said to him:</p> +<p>"Farmer, you have been an honest man, and I will reward you for +restoring me to my mother, if only you have skill enough to take +possession of property that I shall throw in your way. Be happy and +prosper."</p> +<p>Then the farmer put the merman into the sea, and he sank out of +sight.</p> +<p>It happened that not long after seven sea-gray cows were seen on +the beach, close to the farmer's land. These cows appeared to be +very unruly, and ran away directly the farmer approached them. So +he took a stick and ran after them, possessed with the fancy that +if he could burst the bladder which he saw on the nose of each of +them, they would belong to him. He contrived to hit the bladder on +the nose of one cow, which then became so tame that he could easily +catch it, while the others leaped into the sea and disappeared.</p> +<p>The farmer was convinced that this was the gift of the merman. +And a very useful gift it was, for better cow was never seen nor +milked in all the land, and she was the mother of the race of gray +cows so much esteemed now.</p> +<p>And the farmer prospered exceedingly, but never caught any more +mermen. As for his wife, nothing further is told about her, so we +can repeat nothing.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_FISHERMAN_OF_GOTUR"></a>THE FISHERMAN OF +GÖTUR</h2> +<p>It is told that long ago a peasant living at Götur in +Myrdalur went out fishing round the island of Dyrhólar. In +returning from the sea, he had to cross a morass. It happened once +that on his way home after nightfall, he came to a place where a +man had lost his horse in the bog, and was unable to recover it +without help. The fisherman, to whom this man was a stranger, aided +him in freeing his horse from the peat.</p> +<p>When the animal stood again safe and sound upon the dry earth, +the stranger said to the fisherman, "I am your neighbor, for I live +in Hvammsgil, and am returning from the sea, like you. But I am so +poor that I cannot pay you for this service as you ought to be +paid. I will promise you, however, this much: that you shall never +go to sea without catching fish, nor ever, if you will take my +advice, return with empty hands. But you must never put to sea +without having first seen me pass your house, as if going toward +the shore. Obey me in this matter, and I promise you that you shall +never launch your boat in vain."</p> +<p>The fisherman thanked him for this advice; and sure enough it +was that for three years afterward, never putting to sea till he +had first seen his neighbor pass his door, he always launched his +boat safely, and always came home full-handed.</p> +<p>But at the end of the three years it fell out that one day in +the early morning, the fisherman, looking out from his house, saw +the wind and weather favorable, and all other fishers hurrying down +to the sea to make the best of so good a time. But though he waited +hour after hour in the hope of seeing his neighbor pass, the man of +Hvammsgil never came. At last, losing his patience, he started out +without having seen him go by. When he came down to the shore, he +found that all the boats were launched and far away.</p> +<p>Before night the wind rose and became a storm, and every boat +that had that day put to sea was wrecked, and every fisher drowned; +the peasant of Götur alone escaping, for he had been unable to +go out fishing. The next night he had a strange dream, in which his +neighbor from Hvammsgil came to him and said, "Although you did not +yesterday follow my advice, I yet so far felt kindly toward you +that I hindered you from going out to sea, and saved you thus from +drowning; but look no more forth to see me pass, for we have met +for the last time." And never again did the peasant see his +neighbor pass his door.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_MAGIC_SCYTHE"></a>THE MAGIC SCYTHE</h2> +<p>A certain day-laborer once started from his home in the south to +earn wages for hay-cutting in the north country. In the mountains +he was suddenly overtaken by a thick mist and sleet-storm, and lost +his way. Fearing to go on further, he pitched his tent in a +convenient spot, and taking out his provisions, began to eat.</p> +<p>While he was engaged upon his meal, a brown dog came into the +tent, so ill-favored, dirty, wet, and fierce-eyed, that the poor +man felt quite afraid of it, and gave it as much bread and meat as +it could devour. This the dog swallowed greedily, and ran off again +into the mist. At first the man wondered much to see a dog in such +a wild place, where he never expected to meet with a living +creature; but after a while he thought no more about the matter, +and having finished his supper, fell asleep, with his saddle for a +pillow.</p> +<p>At midnight he dreamed that he saw a tall and aged woman enter +his tent, who spoke thus to him:--"I am beholden to you, good man, +for your kindness to my daughter, but am unable to reward you as +you deserve. Here is a scythe which I place beneath your pillow; it +is the only gift I can make you, but despise it not. It will surely +prove useful to you, as it can cut down all that lies before it. +Only beware of putting it into the fire to temper it. Sharpen it, +however, as you will, but in that way never." So saying, she was +seen no more.</p> +<p>When the man awoke and looked forth, he found the mist all gone +and the sun high in heaven; so getting all his things together and +striking his tent, he laid them upon the pack-horses, saddling last +of all his own horse. But on lifting his saddle from the ground, he +found beneath it a small scythe blade, which seemed well worn and +was rusty. On seeing this, he at once recalled to mind his dream, +and taking the scythe with him, set out once more on his way. He +soon found again the road which he had lost, and made all speed to +reach the well-peopled district to which he was bound.</p> +<p>When he arrived at the north country, he went from house to +house, but did not find any employment, for every farmer had +laborers enough, and one week of hay-harvest was already past. He +heard it said, however, that one old woman in the district, +generally thought by her neighbors to be skilled in magic and very +rich, always began her hay-cutting a week later than anybody else, +and though she seldom employed a laborer, always contrived to +finish it by the end of the season. When by any chance--and it was +a rare one--she did engage a workman, she was never known to pay +him for his work.</p> +<p>Now the peasant from the south was advised to ask this old woman +for employment, having been warned of her strange habits.</p> +<p>He accordingly went to her house, and offered himself to her as +a day laborer. She accepted his offer, and told him that he might, +if he chose, work a week for her, but must expect no payment.</p> +<p>"Except," she said, "you can cut more grass in the whole week +than I can rake in on the last day of it."</p> +<p>To these terms he gladly agreed, and began mowing. And a very +good scythe he found that to be which the woman had given him in +his dream; for it cut well, and never wanted sharpening, though he +worked with it for five days unceasingly. He was well content, too, +with his place, for the old woman was kind enough to him.</p> +<p>One day, entering the forge next to her house, he saw a vast +number of scythe-handles and rakes, and a big heap of blades, and +wondered beyond measure what the old lady could want with all +these. It was the fifth day--the Friday--and when he was asleep +that night, the same elf-woman whom he had seen upon the mountains +came again to him and said:--</p> +<p>"Large as are the meadows you have mown, your employer will +easily be able to rake in all that hay to-morrow, and if she does +so, will, as you know, drive you away without paying you. When +therefore you see yourself worsted, go into the forge, take as many +scythe-handles as you think proper, fit their blades to them, and +carry them out into that part of the land where the hay is yet +uncut. There you must lay them on the ground, and you shall see how +things go."</p> +<p>This said, she disappeared, and in the morning the laborer, +getting up, set to work as usual at his mowing.</p> +<p>At six o'clock the old witch came out, bringing five rakes with +her, and said to the man, "A goodly piece of ground you have mowed, +indeed!"</p> +<p>And so saying, she spread the rakes upon the hay. Then the man +saw, to his astonishment, that though the one she held in her hand +raked in great quantities of hay, the other four raked in no less +each, all of their own accord, and with no hand to wield them.</p> +<p>At noon, seeing that the old woman would soon get the best of +him, he went into the forge and took out several scythe-handles, to +which he fixed their blades, and bringing them out into the field, +laid them down upon the grass which was yet standing. Then all the +scythes set to work of their own accord, and cut down the grass so +quickly that the rakes could not keep pace with them. And so they +went on all the rest of the day, and the old woman was unable to +rake in all the hay which lay in the fields. After dark she told +him to gather up his scythes and take them into the house again, +while she collected her rakes, saying to him:--</p> +<p>"You are wiser than I took you to be, and you know more than +myself; so much the better for you, for you may stay as long with +me as you like."</p> +<p>He spent the whole summer in her employment, and they agreed +very well together, mowing with mighty little trouble a vast amount +of hay. In the autumn she sent him away, well laden with money, to +his own home in the south. The next summer, and more than one +summer following, he spent in her employ, always being paid as his +heart could desire, at the end of the season.</p> +<p>After some years he took a farm of his own in the south country, +and was always looked upon by all his neighbors as an honest man, a +good fisherman, and an able workman in whatever he might put his +hand to. He always cut his own hay, never using any scythe but that +which the elf-woman had given him upon the mountains; nor did any +of his neighbors ever finish their mowing before him.</p> +<p>One summer it chanced that while he was fishing, one of his +neighbors came to his house and asked his wife to lend him her +husband's scythe, as he had lost his own. The farmer's wife looked +for one, but could only find the one upon which her husband set +such store. This, however, a little loth, she lent to the man, +begging him at the same time never to temper it in the fire; for +that, she said, her good man never did. So the neighbor promised, +and taking it with him, bound it to a handle and began to work with +it. But, sweep as he would, and strain as he would (and sweep and +strain he did right lustily), not a single blade of grass fell. +Wroth at this, the man tried to sharpen it, but with no avail. Then +he took it into his forge, intending to temper it, for, thought he, +what harm could that possibly do? but as soon as the flames touched +it, the steel melted like wax, and nothing was left but a little +heap of ashes. Seeing this, he went in haste to the farmer's house, +where he had borrowed it, and told the woman what had happened; she +was at her wits' end with fright and shame when she heard it, for +she knew well enough how her husband set store by this scythe, and +how angry he would be at its loss.</p> +<p>And angry indeed he was, when he came home, and he beat his wife +well for her folly in lending what was not hers to lend. But his +wrath was soon over, and he never again, as he never had before, +laid the stick about his wife's shoulders.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_MAN-SERVANT_AND_THE_WATER-ELVES"></a>THE +MAN-SERVANT AND THE WATER-ELVES</h2> +<p>In a large house, where all the chief rooms were paneled, there +lived once upon a time a farmer, whose ill-fate it was that every +servant of his that was left alone to guard the house on Christmas +Eve, while the rest of the family went to church, was found dead +when the family returned home. As soon as the report of this was +spread abroad, the farmer had the greatest difficulty in procuring +servants who would consent to watch alone in the house on that +night; until at last, one day a man, a strong fellow, offered him +his services, to sit up alone and guard the house. The farmer told +him what fate awaited him for his rashness; but the man despised +such a fear, and persisted in his determination.</p> +<p>On Christmas Eve, when the farmer and all his family, except the +new man-servant, were preparing for church, the farmer said to him, +"Come with us to church; I cannot leave you here to die."</p> +<p>But the other replied, "I intend to stay here, for it would be +unwise in you to leave your house unprotected; and besides, the +cattle and sheep must have their food at the proper time."</p> +<p>"Never mind the beasts," answered the farmer. "Do not be so rash +as to remain in the house this night; for whenever we have returned +from church on this night, we have always found every living thing +in the house dead, with all its bones broken."</p> +<p>But the man was not to be persuaded, as he considered all these +fears beneath his notice; so the farmer and the rest of the +servants went away and left him behind, alone in the house.</p> +<p>As soon as he was by himself he began to consider how to guard +against anything that might occur; for a dread had stolen over him, +in spite of his courage, that something strange was about to take +place. At last he thought that the best thing to do was, first of +all to light up the family room; and then to find some place in +which to hide himself. As soon as he had lighted all the candles, +he moved two planks out of the wainscot at the end of the room, and +creeping into the space between it and the wall, restored the +planks to their places, so that he could see plainly into the room +and yet avoid being himself discovered.</p> +<p>He had scarcely finished concealing himself, when two fierce and +strange-looking men entered the room and began looking about.</p> +<p>One of them said, "I smell a human being."</p> +<p>"No," replied the other, "there is no human being here."</p> +<p>Then they took a candle and continued their search, until they +found the man's dog asleep under one of the beds. They took it up, +and having dashed it on the ground till every bone in its body was +broken, hurled it from them. When the man-servant saw this, he +congratulated himself on not having fallen into their hands.</p> +<p>Suddenly the room was filled with people, who were laden with +tables and all kinds of table furniture, silver, cloths, and all, +which they spread out, and having done so, sat down to a rich +supper, which they had also brought with them. They feasted +noisily, and spent the remainder of the night in drinking and +dancing. Two of them were appointed to keep guard, in order to give +the company due warning of the approach either of anybody or of the +day. Three times they went out, always returning with the news that +they saw neither the approach of any human being, nor yet of the +break of day.</p> +<p>But when the man-servant suspected the night to be pretty far +spent, he jumped from his place of concealment into the room, and +clashing the two planks together with as much noise as he could +make, shouted like a madman, "The day! the day! the day!"</p> +<p>On these words the whole company rose scared from their seats, +and rushed headlong out, leaving behind them not only their tables, +and all the silver dishes, but even the very clothes they had taken +off for ease in dancing. In the hurry of flight many were wounded +and trodden under foot, while the rest ran into the darkness, the +man-servant after them, clapping the planks together and shrieking, +"The day! the day! the day!" until they came to a large lake, into +which the whole party plunged headlong and disappeared.</p> +<p>From this the man knew them to be water-elves.</p> +<p>Then he returned home, gathered the corpses of the elves who had +been killed in the flight, killed the wounded ones, and, making a +great heap of them all, burned them. When he had finished this +task, he cleaned up the house and took possession of all the +treasures the elves had left behind them.</p> +<p>On the farmer's return, his servant told him all that had +occurred, and showed him the spoils. The farmer praised him for a +brave fellow, and congratulated him on having escaped with his +life. The man gave him half the treasures of the elves, and ever +afterward prospered exceedingly.</p> +<p>This was the last visit the water-elves ever paid to <i>that</i> +house.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_CROSSWAYS"></a>THE CROSSWAYS</h2> +<p>It is supposed that among the hills there are certain +cross-roads, from the centre of which you can see four churches, +one at the end of each road.</p> +<p>If you sit at the crossing of these roads on Christmas Eve (or +as others say, on New Year's Eve), elves come from every direction +and cluster round you, and ask you, with all sorts of blandishments +and fair promises, to go with them; but you must continue silent. +Then they bring to you rarities and delicacies of every +description, gold, silver, and precious stones, meats and wines, of +which they beg you to accept; but you must neither move a limb nor +accept a single thing they offer you. If you get so far as this +without speaking, elf-women come to you in the likeness of your +mother, your sister, or any other relation, and beg you to come +with them, using every art and entreaty; but beware you neither +move nor speak. And if you can continue to keep silent and +motionless all the night, until you see the first streak of dawn, +then start up and cry aloud, "Praise be to God! His daylight +filleth the heavens!"</p> +<p>As soon as you have said this, the elves will leave you, and +with you all the wealth they have used to entice you, which will +now be yours.</p> +<p>But should you either answer, or accept of their offers, you +will from that moment become mad.</p> +<p>On the night of one Christmas Eve, a man named Fusi was out on +the cross-roads, and managed to resist all the entreaties and +proffers of the elves, until one of them offered him a large lump +of mutton-suet, and begged him to take a bite of it. Fusi, who had +up to this time gallantly resisted all such offers as gold and +silver and diamonds and such filthy lucre, could hold out no +longer, and crying, "Seldom have I refused a bite of mutton-suet," +he went mad.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ERNST_MORITZ_ARNDT"></a>ERNST MORITZ ARNDT</h2> +<h3>(1769-1860)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-s.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>prung from the sturdy peasant stock of the north, to which +patriotism is a chief virtue, Ernst Moritz Arndt first saw the +light at Schoritz, Island of Rügen (then a dependency of +Sweden), December 29th, 1769. His father, once a serf, had achieved +a humble independence, and he destined his clever son for the +ministry, the one vocation open to him which meant honor and +advancement. The young man studied theology at Greifswald and Jena, +but later turned his attention exclusively to history and +literature. His early life is delightfully described in his +'Stories and Recollections of Childhood.' His youth was molded by +the influence of Goethe, Klopstock, Bürger, and Voss. After +completing his university studies he traveled extensively in +Austria, Hungary, and Northern Italy. His account of these +journeys, published in 1802, shows his keen observation of men and +affairs.</p> +<p class="rgt"><img src="images/image-355.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>ERNST ARNDT</b></p> +<p>He began his long service to his country by his 'History of +Serfdom in Pomerania and Sweden,' which contributed largely to the +general abolition of the ancient abuse. He became professor of +history in the University of Greifswald in 1806, and about that +time began to publish the first series of the 'Spirit of the +Times.' These were stirring appeals to rouse the Germans against +the oppressions of Napoleon. In consequence he was obliged to flee +to Sweden. After three years he returned under an assumed name, and +again took up his work at Greifswald. In 1812, after the occupation +of Pomerania by the French, his fierce denunciations again forced +him to flee, this time to Russia, the only refuge open to him. +There he joined Baron von Stein, who eagerly made use of him in his +schemes for the liberation of Germany. At this time his finest +poems were written: those kindling war songs that appealed so +strongly to German patriotism, when "songs were sermons and sermons +were songs." The most famous of these, 'What is the German's +Fatherland?' 'The Song of the Field-marshal,' and 'The God Who Made +Earth's Iron Hoard,' still live as national lyrics.</p> +<p>Arndt was also constantly occupied in writing pamphlets of the +most stirring nature, as their titles show:--'The Rhine, Germany's +River, but Never Germany's Boundary'; 'The Soldier's Catechism'; +and 'The Militia and the General Levy.' After the disasters of the +French in Russia, he returned to Germany, unceasingly devoted to +his task of rousing the people. Though by birth a Swede, he had +become at heart a Prussian, seeing in Prussia alone the possibility +of German unity.</p> +<p>In 1817 he married Schleiermacher's sister, and the following +year was appointed professor of history in the newly established +University of Bonn. Shortly afterward suspended, on account of his +liberal views, he was forced to spend twenty years in retirement. +His leisure gave opportunity for literary work, however, and he +availed himself of it by producing several historical treatises and +his interesting 'Reminiscences of My Public Life.' One of the first +acts of Frederick William IV., after his accession, was to restore +Arndt to his professorship at Bonn. He took a lively interest in +the events of 1848, and belonged to the deputation that offered the +imperial crown to the King of Prussia. He continued in the hope and +the advocacy of German unity, though he did not live to see it +realized. The ninetieth birthday of "Father Arndt," as he was +fondly called by his countrymen, was celebrated with general +rejoicing throughout Germany. He died shortly afterward, on January +29th, 1860.</p> +<p>Arndt's importance as a poet is due to the stirring scenes of +his earlier life and the political needs of Germany. He was no +genius. He was not even a deep scholar. His only great work is his +war-songs and patriotic ballads. Germany honors his manly character +and patriotic zeal in that stormy period of Liberation which led +through many apparent defeats to the united Empire of to-day.</p> +<p>The best German biographies are that of Schenkel (1869), W. Baur +(1882), and Langenberg (1869); the latter in 1878 edited 'Arndt's +Letters to a Friend.' J.R. Seeley's 'Life and Adventures of E.M. +Arndt' (1879) is founded on the latter's 'Reminiscences of My +Public Life.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="WHAT_IS_THE_GERMANS_FATHERLAND"></a> +<b>WHAT IS THE GERMAN'S FATHERLAND?</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Is it Prussia, or the Swabian's land?</p> +<p class="i5">Is it where the grape glows on the Rhine?</p> +<p class="i5">Where sea-gulls skim the Baltic's brine?</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Bavaria, or the Styrian's land?</p> +<p class="i5">Is it where the Master's cattle graze?</p> +<p class="i5">Is it the Mark where forges blaze?</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Westphalia? Pomerania's strand?</p> +<p class="i5">Where the sand drifts along the shore?</p> +<p class="i5">Or where the Danube's surges roar?</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Now name for me that mighty land!</p> +<p class="i5">Is it Switzerland? or Tyrols, tell;--</p> +<p class="i5">The land and people pleased me well!</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Now name for me that mighty land!</p> +<p class="i5">Ah! Austria surely it must be,</p> +<p class="i5">So rich in fame and victory.</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Tell me the name of that great land!</p> +<p class="i5">Is it the land which princely hate</p> +<p class="i5">Tore from the Emperor and the State?</p> +<p class="i9">Oh no! more grand</p> +<p class="i6">Must be the German's fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">What is the German's fatherland?</p> +<p class="i5">Now name at last that mighty land!</p> +<p class="i5">"Where'er resounds the German tongue,</p> +<p class="i5">Where'er its hymns to God are sung!"</p> +<p class="i9">That is the land,</p> +<p class="i6">Brave German, that thy fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">That is the German's fatherland!</p> +<p class="i5">Where binds like oak the clasped hand,</p> +<p class="i5">Where truth shines clearly from the eyes,</p> +<p class="i5">And in the heart affection lies.</p> +<p class="i9">Be this the land,</p> +<p class="i6">Brave German, this thy fatherland!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">That is the German's fatherland!</p> +<p class="i5">Where scorn shall foreign triflers brand,</p> +<p class="i5">Where all are foes whose deeds offend,</p> +<p class="i5">Where every noble soul's a friend:</p> +<p class="i9">Be this the land,</p> +<p class="i6">All Germany shall be the land!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">All Germany that land shall be:</p> +<p class="i5">Watch o'er it, God, and grant that we,</p> +<p class="i5">With German hearts, in deed and thought,</p> +<p class="i5">May love it truly as we ought.</p> +<p class="i9">Be this the land,</p> +<p class="i6">All Germany shall be the land!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_SONG_OF_THE_FIELD-MARSHAL"></a> +<b>THE SONG OF THE FIELD-MARSHAL</b></p> +<blockquote>What's the blast from the trumpets? Hussars, to the +fray!<br> +The field-marshal<a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2">[2]</a> rides in the rolling mellay:<br> +So gay on, his mettlesome war-horse he goes,<br> +So fierce waves his glittering sword at his foes.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a> +Blücher</blockquote> +<br> +Oh, see as he comes how his piercing eyes gleam!<br> +Oh, see how behind him his snowy locks stream!<br> +So fresh blooms his age, like a well-ripened wine,<br> +He may well as the battle-field's autocrat shine.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +It was he, when his country in ruin was laid,<br> +Who sternly to heaven uplifted his blade,<br> +And swore on the brand, with a heart burning high,<br> +To show Frenchmen the trade that the Prussians could ply.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +That oath he has kept. When the battle-cry rang,<br> +Hey! how the gray youth to the saddle upsprang!<br> +He made a sweep-dance for the French in the room,<br> +And swept the land clean with a steel-ended broom.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +At Lützen, in the meadow, he kept up such a strife,<br> +That many thousand Frenchmen there yielded up their life;<br> +That thousands ran headlong for very life's sake,<br> +And thousands are sleeping who never will wake.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +On the water, at Katzbach, his oath was in trim:<br> +He taught in a moment the Frenchmen to swim.<br> +Farewell, Frenchmen; fly to the Baltic to save!<br> +You mob without breeches, catch whales for your grave.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +At Wartburg, on the Elbe, how he cleared him a path!<br> +Neither fortress nor town barred the French from his wrath;<br> +Like hares o'er the field they all scuttled away,<br> +While behind them the hero rang out his Huzza!<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +At Leipzig--O glorious fight on the plain!--<br> +French luck and French might strove against him in vain;<br> +There beaten and stiff lay the foe in their blood,<br> +And there dear old Blücher a field-marshal stood.<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful: they're shouting hurrah!<br> +<br> +Then sound, blaring trumpets! Hussars, charge once more!<br> +Ride, field-marshal, ride like the wind in the roar!<br> +To the Rhine, over Rhine, in your triumph advance!<br> +Brave sword of our country, right on into France!<br> +And here are the Germans: juchheirassassa!<br> +The Germans are joyful; they're shouting hurrah!</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="PATRIOTIC_SONG"></a> <b>PATRIOTIC +SONG</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">God, who gave iron, purposed ne'er</p> +<p class="i7">That man should be a slave:</p> +<p class="i5">Therefore the sabre, sword, and spear</p> +<p class="i7">In his right hand He gave.</p> +<p class="i5">Therefore He gave him fiery mood,</p> +<p class="i7">Fierce speech, and free-born breath,</p> +<p class="i5">That he might fearlessly the feud</p> +<p class="i7">Maintain through life and death.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Therefore will we what God did say,</p> +<p class="i7">With honest truth, maintain,</p> +<p class="i5">And ne'er a fellow-creature slay,</p> +<p class="i7">A tyrant's pay to gain!</p> +<p class="i5">But he shall fall by stroke of brand</p> +<p class="i7">Who fights for sin and shame,</p> +<p class="i5">And not inherit German land</p> +<p class="i7">With men of German name.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">O Germany, bright fatherland!</p> +<p class="i7">O German love, so true!</p> +<p class="i5">Thou sacred land, thou beauteous land,</p> +<p class="i7">We swear to thee anew!</p> +<p class="i5">Outlawed, each knave and coward shall</p> +<p class="i7">The crow and raven feed;</p> +<p class="i5">But we will to the battle all--</p> +<p class="i7">Revenge shall be our meed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Flash forth, flash forth, whatever can,</p> +<p class="i7">To bright and flaming life!</p> +<p class="i5">Now all ye Germans, man for man,</p> +<p class="i7">Forth to the holy strife!</p> +<p class="i5">Your hands lift upward to the sky--</p> +<p class="i7">Your heart shall upward soar--</p> +<p class="i5">And man for man, let each one cry,</p> +<p class="i7">Our slavery is o'er!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Let sound, let sound, whatever can,</p> +<p class="i7">Trumpet and fife and drum,</p> +<p class="i5">This day our sabres, man for man,</p> +<p class="i7">To stain with blood we come;</p> +<p class="i5">With hangman's and with Frenchmen's blood,</p> +<p class="i7">O glorious day of ire,</p> +<p class="i5">That to all Germans soundeth good--</p> +<p class="i7">Day of our great desire!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Let wave, let wave, whatever can,</p> +<p class="i7">Standard and banner wave!</p> +<p class="i5">Here will we purpose, man for man,</p> +<p class="i7">To grace a hero's grave.</p> +<p class="i5">Advance, ye brave ranks, hardily--</p> +<p class="i7">Your banners wave on high;</p> +<p class="i5">We'll gain us freedom's victory,</p> +<p class="i7">Or freedom's death we'll die!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="EDWIN_ARNOLD"></a>EDWIN ARNOLD</h2> +<h3>(1832-)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he favorite and now venerable English poet, Edwin Arnold, showed +his skill in smooth and lucid verse early in life. In 1852, when +twenty years of age, he won the Newdigate Prize at Oxford for a +poem, 'The Feast of Belshazzar.' Two years later, after graduation +with honors, he was named second master of Edward the Sixth's +School at Birmingham; and, a few years subsequent, principal of the +Government Sanskrit College at Poona, in India. In 1856 he +published 'Griselda, a Tragedy'; and after his return to London in +1861, translations from the Greek of Herodotus and the Sanskrit of +the Indian classic 'Hitopadeça,' the latter under the name +of 'The Book of Good Counsels.' There followed from his pen +'Education in India'; 'A History of the Administration in India +under the Late Marquis of Dalhousie' (1862-64); and 'The Poets of +Greece,' a collection of fine passages (1869). In addition to his +other labors he has been one of the editors-in-chief of the London +Daily Telegraph.</p> +<p>Saturated with the Orient, familiar with every aspect of its +civilization, moral and religious life, history and feeling, Sir +Edwin's literary work has attested his knowledge in a large number +of smaller poetical productions, and a group of religious epics of +long and impressive extent. Chiefest among them ranks that on the +life and teachings of Buddha, 'The Light of Asia; or, The Great +Renunciation' (1879). It has passed through more than eighty +editions in this country, and almost as many in England. In +recognition of this work Mr. Arnold was decorated by the King of +Siam with the Order of the White Elephant. Two years after its +appearance he published 'Mahâbhârata,' 'Indian Idylls,' +and in 1883, 'Pearls of the Faith; or, Islam's Rosary Being the +Ninety-nine Beautiful Names of Allah, with Comments in Verse from +Various Oriental Sources.' In 1886 the Sultan conferred on him the +Imperial Order of Osmanli, and in 1888 he was created Knight +Commander of the Indian Empire by Queen Victoria. 'Sa'di in the +Garden; or, The Book of Love' (1888), a poem turning on a part of +the 'Bôstâni' of the Persian poet Sa'di, brought Sir +Edwin the Order of the Lion and Sun from the Shah of Persia. In +1888 he published also 'Poems National and Non-Oriental.' Since +then he has written 'The Light of the World'; 'Potiphar's Wife, and +Other Poems' (1892); 'The Iliad and Odyssey of Asia,' and in prose, +'India Revisited' (1891); 'Seas and Lands'; 'Japonica,' which +treats of life and things Japanese; and 'Adzuma, the Japanese Wife: +a Play in Four Acts' (1893). During his travels in Japan the +Emperor decorated him with the Order of the Rising Sun. In 1893 Sir +Edwin was chosen President of the Birmingham and Midland Institute. +His latest volume, 'The Tenth Muse and Other Poems,' appeared in +1895.</p> +<p>'The Light of Asia,' the most successful of his works, attracted +instant attention on its appearance, as a novelty of rich Indian +local color. In substance it is a graceful and dramatic paraphrase +of the mass of more or less legendary tales of the life and +spiritual career of the Buddha, Prince Gautama, and a summary of +the principles of the great religious system originating with him. +It is lavishly embellished with Indian allusions, and expresses +incidentally the very spirit of the East. In numerous cantos, +proceeding from episode to episode of its mystical hero's career, +its effect is that of a loftily ethical, picturesque, and +fascinating biography, in highly polished verse. The metre selected +is a graceful and dignified one, especially associated with +'Paradise Lost' and other of the foremost classics of English +verse. Sir Edwin says of the poem in his preface, "I have sought, +by the medium of an imaginary Buddhist votary, to depict the life +and character and indicate the philosophy of that noble hero and +reformer, Prince Gautama of India, the founder of Buddhism;" and +the poet has admirably, if most flatteringly, succeeded. The poem +has been printed in innumerable cheap editions as well as those +<i>de luxe</i>; and while it has been criticized as too complaisant +a study of even primitive Buddhism, it is beyond doubt a lyrical +tract of eminent utility as well as seductive charm.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_YOUTH_OF_BUDDHA"></a> <b>THE YOUTH +OF BUDDHA</b></p> +<blockquote>From 'The Light of Asia'</blockquote> +<br> +<blockquote>This reverence<br> +Lord Buddha kept to all his schoolmasters,<br> +Albeit beyond their learning taught; in speech<br> +Right gentle, yet so wise; princely of mien,<br> +Yet softly mannered; modest, deferent,<br> +And tender-hearted, though of fearless blood:<br> +No bolder horseman in the youthful band<br> +E'er rode in gay chase of the shy gazelles;<br> +No keener driver of the chariot<br> +In mimic contest scoured the palace courts:<br> +Yet in mid-play the boy would oft-times pause,<br> +Letting the deer pass free; would oft-times yield<br> +His half-won race because the laboring steeds<br> +Fetched painful breath; or if his princely mates<br> +Saddened to lose, or if some wistful dream<br> +Swept o'er his thoughts. And ever with the years<br> +Waxed this compassionateness of our Lord,<br> +Even as a great tree grows from two soft leaves<br> +To spread its shade afar; but hardly yet<br> +Knew the young child of sorrow, pain, or tears,<br> +Save as strange names for things not felt by kings,<br> +Nor ever to be felt. But it befell<br> +In the royal garden on a day of spring,<br> +A flock of wild swans passed, voyaging north<br> +To their nest-places on Himála's breast.<br> +Calling in love-notes down their snowy line<br> +The bright birds flew, by fond love piloted;<br> +And Devadatta, cousin of the Prince,<br> +Pointed his bow, and loosed a willful shaft<br> +Which found the wide wing of the foremost swan<br> +Broad-spread to glide upon the free blue road,<br> +So that it fell, the bitter arrow fixed,<br> +Bright scarlet blood-gouts staining the pure plumes.<br> +Which seeing, Prince Siddârtha took the bird<br> +Tenderly up, rested it in his lap,--<br> +Sitting with knees crossed, as Lord Buddha sits,--<br> +And, soothing with a touch the wild thing's fright,<br> +Composed its ruffled vans, calmed its quick heart,<br> +Caressed it into peace with light kind palms<br> +As soft as plantain leaves an hour unrolled;<br> +And while the left hand held, the right hand drew<br> +The cruel steel forth from the wound, and laid<br> +Cool leaves and healing honey on the smart.<br> +Yet all so little knew the boy of pain,<br> +That curiously into his wrist he pressed<br> +The arrow's barb, and winced to feel it sting,<br> +And turned with tears to soothe his bird again.<br> +Then some one came who said, "My Prince hath shot<br> +A swan, which fell among the roses here;<br> +He bids me pray you send it. Will you send?"<br> +"Nay," quoth Siddârtha: "If the bird were dead,<br> +To send it to the slayer might be well,<br> +But the swan lives; my cousin hath but killed<br> +The godlike speed which throbbed in this white wing."<br> +And Devadatta answered, "The wild thing,<br> +Living or dead, is his who fetched it down;<br> +'Twas no man's in the clouds, but fallen 'tis mine.<br> +Give me my prize, fair cousin." Then our Lord<br> +Laid the swan's neck beside his own smooth cheek<br> +And gravely spake:--"Say no! the bird is mine,<br> +The first of myriad things which shall be mine<br> +By right of mercy and love's lordliness.<br> +For now I know, by what within me stirs.<br> +That I shall teach compassion unto men<br> +And be a speechless world's interpreter,<br> +Abating this accursed flood of woe.<br> +Not man's alone; but if the Prince disputes,<br> +Let him submit this matter to the wise<br> +And we will wait their word." So was it done;<br> +In full divan the business had debate,<br> +And many thought this thing and many that,<br> +Till there arose an unknown priest who said,<br> +"If life be aught, the savior of a life<br> +Owns more the living thing than he can own<br> +Who sought to slay; the slayer spoils and wastes,<br> +The cherisher sustains: give him the bird."<br> +Which judgment all found just; but when the King<br> +Sought out the sage for honor, he was gone;<br> +And some one saw a hooded snake glide forth.<br> +The gods come oft-times thus! So our Lord Buddha<br> +Began his works of mercy.<br> +<br> + Yet not more<br> +Knew he as yet of grief than that one bird's,<br> +Which, being healed, went joyous to its kind.<br> +But on another day the King said, "Come,<br> +Sweet son! and see the pleasaunce of the spring,<br> +And how the fruitful earth is wooed to yield<br> +Its riches to the reaper; how my realm--<br> +Which shall be thine when the pile flames for me--<br> +Feeds all its mouths and keeps the King's chest filled.<br> +Fair is the season with new leaves, bright blooms,<br> +Green grass, and cries of plow-time." So they rode<br> +Into a land of wells and gardens, where,<br> +All up and down the rich red loam, the steers<br> +Strained their strong shoulders in the creaking yoke,<br> +Dragging the plows; the fat soil rose and rolled<br> +In smooth dark waves back from the plow; who drove<br> +Planted both feet upon the leaping share<br> +To make the furrow deep; among the palms<br> +The tinkle of the rippling water rang,<br> +And where it ran the glad earth 'broidered it<br> +With balsams and the spears of lemon-grass.<br> +Elsewhere were sowers who went forth to sow;<br> +And all the jungle laughed with nesting-songs,<br> +And all the thickets rustled with small life<br> +Of lizard, bee, beetle, and creeping things,<br> +Pleased at the springtime. In the mango-sprays<br> +The sunbirds flashed; alone at his green forge<br> +Toiled the loud coppersmith; bee-eaters hawked,<br> +Chasing the purple butterflies; beneath,<br> +Striped squirrels raced, the mynas perked and picked,<br> +The nine brown sisters chattered in the thorn,<br> +The pied fish-tiger hung above the pool,<br> +The egrets stalked among the buffaloes,<br> +The kites sailed circles in the golden air;<br> +About the painted temple peacocks flew,<br> +The blue doves cooed from every well, far off<br> +The village drums beat for some marriage feast;<br> +All things spoke peace and plenty, and the Prince<br> +Saw and rejoiced. But, looking deep, he saw<br> +The thorns which grow upon this rose of life:<br> +How the swart peasant sweated for his wage,<br> +Toiling for leave to live; and how he urged<br> +The great-eyed oxen through the flaming hours,<br> +Goading their velvet flanks: then marked he, too,<br> +How lizard fed on ant, and snake on him,<br> +And kite on both; and how the fish-hawk robbed<br> +The fish-tiger of that which it had seized;<br> +The shrike chasing the bulbul, which did chase<br> +The jeweled butterflies; till everywhere<br> +Each slew a slayer and in turn was slain,<br> +Life living upon death. So the fair show<br> +Veiled one vast, savage, grim conspiracy<br> +Of mutual murder, from the worm to man,<br> +Who himself kills his fellow; seeing which--<br> +The hungry plowman and his laboring kine,<br> +Their dewlaps blistered with the bitter yoke,<br> +The rage to live which makes all living strife--<br> +The Prince Siddârtha sighed. "Is this," he said,<br> +"That happy earth they brought me forth to see?<br> +How salt with sweat the peasant's bread! how hard<br> +The oxen's service! in the brake how fierce<br> +The war of weak and strong! i' th' air what plots!<br> +No refuge e'en in water. Go aside<br> +A space, and let me muse on what ye show."<br> +So saying, the good Lord Buddha seated him<br> +Under a jambu-tree, with ankles crossed,<br> +As holy statues sit, and first began<br> +To meditate this deep disease of life,<br> +What its far source and whence its remedy.<br> +So vast a pity filled him, such wide love<br> +For living things, such passion to heal pain,<br> +That by their stress his princely spirit passed<br> +To ecstasy, and, purged from mortal taint<br> +Of sense and self, the boy attained thereat<br> +Dhyâna, first step of "the Path."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_PURE_SACRIFICE_OF_BUDDHA"></a> +<b>THE PURE SACRIFICE OF BUDDHA</b></p> +<blockquote>From 'The Light of Asia'</blockquote> +<br> +<blockquote>Onward he passed,<br> +Exceeding sorrowful, seeing how men<br> +Fear so to die they are afraid to fear,<br> +Lust so to live they dare not love their life,<br> +But plague it with fierce penances, belike<br> +To please the gods who grudge pleasure to man;<br> +Belike to balk hell by self-kindled hells;<br> +Belike in holy madness, hoping soul<br> +May break the better through their wasted flesh.<br> +"O flowerets of the field!" Siddârtha said,<br> +"Who turn your tender faces to the sun,--<br> +Glad of the light, and grateful with sweet breath<br> +Of fragrance and these robes of reverence donned,<br> +Silver and gold and purple,--none of ye<br> +Miss perfect living, none of ye despoil<br> +Your happy beauty. O ye palms! which rise<br> +Eager to pierce the sky and drink the wind<br> +Blown from Malaya and the cool blue seas;<br> +What secret know ye that ye grow content,<br> +From time of tender shoot to time of fruit,<br> +Murmuring such sun-songs from your feathered crowns?<br> +Ye too, who dwell so merry in the trees,--<br> +Quick-darting parrots, bee-birds, bulbuls, doves,--<br> +None of ye hate your life, none of ye deem<br> +To strain to better by foregoing needs!<br> +But man, who slays ye--being lord--is wise,<br> +And wisdom, nursed on blood, cometh thus forth<br> +In self-tormentings!"<br> +<br> + +While the Master spake<br> +Blew down the mount the dust of pattering feet,<br> +White goats and black sheep winding slow their way<br> +With many a lingering nibble at the tufts,<br> +And wanderings from the path, where water gleamed<br> +Or wild figs hung. But always as they strayed<br> +The herdsman cried, or slung his sling, and kept<br> +The silly crowd still moving to the plain.<br> +A ewe with couplets in the flock there was:<br> +Some hurt had lamed one lamb, which toiled behind<br> +Bleeding, while in the front its fellow skipped,<br> +And the vexed dam hither and thither ran,<br> +Fearful to lose this little one or that;<br> +Which when our Lord did mark, full tenderly<br> +He took the limping lamb upon his neck,<br> +Saying, "Poor wooly mother, be at peace!<br> +Whither thou goest I will bear thy care;<br> +'Twere all as good to ease one beast of grief<br> +As sit and watch the sorrows of the world<br> +In yonder caverns with the priests who pray."<br> +"But," spake he of the herdsmen, "wherefore, friends!<br> +Drive ye the flocks adown under high noon,<br> +Since 'tis at evening that men fold their sheep?"<br> +<br> +And answer gave the peasants:--"We are sent<br> +To fetch a sacrifice of goats fivescore,<br> +And fivescore sheep, the which our Lord the King<br> +Slayeth this night in worship of his gods."<br> +<br> +Then said the Master, "I will also go!"<br> +So paced he patiently, bearing the lamb<br> +Beside the herdsmen in the dust and sun,<br> +The wistful ewe low bleating at his feet.<br> +Whom, when they came unto the river-side,<br> +A woman--dove-eyed, young, with tearful face<br> +And lifted hands--saluted, bending low:--<br> +"Lord! thou art he," she said, "who yesterday<br> +Had pity on me in the fig grove here,<br> +Where I live lone and reared my child; but he,<br> +Straying amid the blossoms, found a snake,<br> +Which twined about his wrist, while he did laugh<br> +And teased the quick forked tongue and opened mouth<br> +Of that cold playmate. But alas! ere long<br> +He turned so pale and still, I could not think<br> +Why he should cease to play, and let my breast<br> +Fall from his lips. And one said, 'He is sick<br> +Of poison;' and another, 'He will die.'<br> +But I, who could not lose my precious boy,<br> +Prayed of them physic, which might bring the light<br> +Back to his eyes; it was so very small,<br> +That kiss-mark of the serpent, and I think<br> +It could not hate him, gracious as he was,<br> +Nor hurt him in his sport. And some one said,<br> +'There is a holy man upon the hill--<br> +Lo! now he passeth in the yellow robe;<br> +Ask of the Rishi if there be a cure<br> +For that which ails thy son.' Whereon I came<br> +Trembling to thee, whose brow is like a god's,<br> +And wept and drew the face-cloth from my babe,<br> +Praying thee tell what simples might be good.<br> +And thou, great sir! didst spurn me not, but gaze<br> +With gentle eyes and touch with patient hand;<br> +Then draw the face-cloth back, saying to me,<br> +'Yea! little sister, there is that might heal<br> +Thee first, and him, if thou couldst fetch the thing;<br> +For they who seek physicians bring to them<br> +What is ordained. Therefore, I pray thee, find<br> +Black mustard-seed, a tola; only mark<br> +Thou take it not from any hand or house<br> +Where father, mother, child, or slave hath died;<br> +It shall be well if thou canst find such seed.'<br> +Thus didst thou speak, my lord!"<br> +<br> + +The Master smiled<br> +Exceeding tenderly. "Yea! I spake thus,<br> +Dear Kisagôtami! But didst thou find<br> +The seed?"<br> +<br> + +"I went, Lord, clasping to my breast<br> +The babe, grown colder, asking at each hut,--<br> +Here in the jungle and toward the town,--<br> +'I pray you, give me mustard, of your grace,<br> +A tola--black' and each who had it gave,<br> +For all the poor are piteous to the poor:<br> +But when I asked, 'In my friend's household here<br> +Hath any peradventure ever died--<br> +Husband or wife, or child, or slave?' they said:--<br> +'O sister! what is this you ask? the dead<br> +Are very many and the living few!'<br> +So, with sad thanks, I gave the mustard back,<br> +And prayed of others, but the others said,<br> +'Here is the seed, but we have lost our slave!'<br> +'Here is the seed, but our good man is dead!'<br> +'Here is some seed, but he that sowed it died!<br> +Between the rain-time and the harvesting!'<br> +Ah, sir! I could not find a single house<br> +Where there was mustard-seed and none had died!<br> +Therefore I left my child--who would not suck<br> +Nor smile--beneath the wild vines by the stream,<br> +To seek thy face and kiss thy feet, and pray<br> +Where I might find this seed and find no death,<br> +If now, indeed, my baby be not dead,<br> +As I do fear, and as they said to me."<br> +<br> +"My sister! thou hast found," the Master said,<br> +"Searching for what none finds, that bitter balm<br> +I had to give thee. He thou lovedst slept<br> +Dead on thy bosom yesterday; to-day<br> +Thou know'st the whole wide world weeps with thy woe;<br> +The grief which all hearts share grows less for one.<br> +Lo! I would pour my blood if it could stay<br> +Thy tears, and win the secret of that curse<br> +Which makes sweet love our anguish, and which drives<br> +O'er flowers and pastures to the sacrifice--<br> +As these dumb beasts are driven--men their lords.<br> +I seek that secret: bury thou thy child!"<br> +<br> +So entered they the city side by side,<br> +The herdsmen and the Prince, what time the sun<br> +Gilded slow Sona's distant stream, and threw<br> +Long shadows down the street and through the gate<br> +Where the King's men kept watch. But when these saw<br> +Our Lord bearing the lamb, the guards stood back,<br> +The market-people drew their wains aside,<br> +In the bazaar buyers and sellers stayed<br> +The war of tongues to gaze on that mild face;<br> +The smith, with lifted hammer in his hand,<br> +Forgot to strike; the weaver left his web,<br> +The scribe his scroll, the money-changer lost<br> +His count of cowries; from the unwatched rice<br> +Shiva's white bull fed free; the wasted milk<br> +Ran o'er the lota while the milkers watched<br> +The passage of our Lord moving so meek,<br> +With yet so beautiful a majesty.<br> +But most the women gathering in the doors<br> +Asked, "Who is this that brings the sacrifice<br> +So graceful and peace-giving as he goes?<br> +What is his caste? whence hath he eyes so sweet?<br> +Can he be Sâkra or the Devaraj?"<br> +And others said, "It is the holy man<br> +Who dwelleth with the Rishis on the hill."<br> +But the Lord paced, in meditation lost,<br> +Thinking, "Alas! for all my sheep which have<br> +No shepherd; wandering in the night with none<br> +To guide them; bleating blindly toward the knife<br> +Of Death, as these dumb beasts which are their kin."<br> +<br> +Then some one told the King, "There cometh here<br> +A holy hermit, bringing down the flock<br> +Which thou didst bid to crown the sacrifice."<br> +<br> +The King stood in his hall of offering;<br> +On either hand the white-robed Brahmans ranged<br> +Muttered their mantras, feeding still the fire<br> +Which roared upon the midmost altar. There<br> +From scented woods flickered bright tongues of flame,<br> +Hissing and curling as they licked the gifts<br> +Of ghee and spices and the Soma juice,<br> +The joy of Indra. Round about the pile<br> +A slow, thick, scarlet streamlet smoked and ran,<br> +Sucked by the sand, but ever rolling down,<br> +The blood of bleating victims. One such lay,<br> +A spotted goat, long-horned, its head bound back<br> +With munja grass; at its stretched throat the knife<br> +Pressed by a priest, who murmured, "This, dread gods.<br> +Of many yajnas cometh as the crown<br> +From Bimbasâra: take ye joy to see<br> +The spirted blood, and pleasure in the scent<br> +Of rich flesh roasting 'mid the fragrant flames;<br> +Let the King's sins be laid upon this goat,<br> +And let the fire consume them burning it,<br> +For now I strike."<br> +<br> + +But Buddha softly said,<br> +"Let him not strike, great King!" and therewith loosed<br> +The victim's bonds, none staying him, so great<br> +His presence was. Then, craving leave, he spake<br> +Of life, which all can take, but none can give,<br> +Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep,<br> +Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each,<br> +Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all<br> +Where pity is, for pity makes the world<br> +Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.<br> +Unto the dumb lips of his flock he lent<br> +Sad, pleading words, showing how man, who prays<br> +For mercy to the gods, is merciless,<br> +Being as god to those; albeit all life<br> +Is linked and kin, and what we slay have given<br> +Meek tribute of the milk and wool, and set<br> +Fast trust upon the hands which murder them.<br> +Also he spake of what the holy books<br> +Do surely teach, how that at death some sink<br> +To bird and beast, and these rise up to man<br> +In wanderings of the spark which grows purged flame.<br> +So were the sacrifice new sin, if so<br> +The fated passage of a soul be stayed.<br> +Nor, spake he, shall one wash his spirit clean<br> +By blood; nor gladden gods, being good, with blood;<br> +Nor bribe them, being evil; nay, nor lay<br> +Upon the brow of innocent bound beasts<br> +One hair's weight of that answer all must give<br> +For all things done amiss or wrongfully,<br> +Alone, each for himself, reckoning with that<br> +The fixed arithmetic of the universe,<br> +Which meteth good for good and ill for ill,<br> +Measure for measure, unto deeds, words, thoughts;<br> +Watchful, aware, implacable, unmoved;<br> +Making all futures fruits of all the pasts.<br> +Thus spake he, breathing words so piteous<br> +With such high lordliness of ruth and right,<br> +The priests drew back their garments o'er the hands<br> +Crimsoned with slaughter, and the King came near,<br> +Standing with clasped palms reverencing Buddha;<br> +While still our Lord went on, teaching how fair<br> +This earth were if all living things be linked<br> +In friendliness of common use of foods,<br> +Bloodless and pure; the golden grain, bright fruits,<br> +Sweet herbs which grow for all, the waters wan,<br> +Sufficient drinks and meats. Which, when these heard,<br> +The might of gentleness so conquered them,<br> +The priests themselves scattered their altar-flames<br> +And flung away the steel of sacrifice;<br> +And through the land next day passed a decree<br> +Proclaimed by criers, and in this wise graved<br> +On rock and column:--"Thus the King's will is:<br> +There hath been slaughter for the sacrifice<br> +And slaying for the meat, but henceforth none<br> +Shall spill the blood of life nor taste of flesh,<br> +Seeing that knowledge grows, and life is one,<br> +And mercy cometh to the merciful."<br> +So ran the edict, and from those days forth<br> +Sweet peace hath spread between all living kind,<br> +Man and the beasts which serve him, and the birds,<br> +Of all those banks of Gunga where our Lord<br> +Taught with his saintly pity and soft speech.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_FAITHFULNESS_OF_YUDHISTHIRA"></a> +<b>THE FAITHFULNESS OF YUDHISTHIRA</b></p> +<blockquote>From 'The Great Journey,' in the +Mahâbhârata</blockquote> +<br> +<blockquote>Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode,<br> +Not looking back,--nay, not for Bhima's sake,--But<br> +walking with his face set for the mount;<br> +And the hound followed him,--only the hound.<br> +<br> +After the deathly sands, the Mount; and lo!<br> +Sâkra shone forth, the God, filling the earth<br> +And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.<br> +"Ascend," he said, "with me, Pritha's great son!"<br> +But Yudhisthira answered, sore at heart<br> +For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:<br> +"O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the gods,<br> +Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!<br> +Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.<br> +She, too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she<br> +Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,--Grant<br> +her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?"<br> +<br> +The God replied:--"In heaven thou shalt see<br> +Thy kinsman and the Queen--these will attain--And<br> +Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,<br> +Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,<br> +These have their places; but to thee the gods<br> +Allot an unknown grace; Thou shalt go up,<br> +Living and in thy form, to the immortal homes."<br> +<br> +But the King answered:--"O thou Wisest One,<br> +Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be,<br> +Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,<br> +Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?"<br> +<br> +"Monarch," spake Indra, "thou art now as we,--<br> +Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;<br> +Glory and power and gifts celestial,<br> +And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye;<br> +What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound."<br> +<br> +Yet Yudhisthira answered:--"O Most High,<br> +O, Thousand-eyed and wisest! can it be<br> +That one exalted should seem pitiless?<br> +Nay, let me lose such glory; for its sake<br> +I cannot leave one living thing I loved."<br> +<br> +Then sternly Indra spake:--"He is unclean,<br> +And into Swarga such shall enter not.<br> +The Krodhavasha's wrath destroys the fruits<br> +Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.<br> +Bethink thee, Dharmaraj; quit now this beast!<br> +That which is seemly is not hard of heart."<br> +<br> +Still he replied:--"Tis written that to spurn<br> +A suppliant equals in offense to slay<br> +A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss<br> +Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,--<br> +So without any hope or friend save me,<br> +So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness;<br> +So agonized to die, unless I help<br> +Who among men was called steadfast and just."<br> +<br> +Quoth Indra:--"Nay, the altar-flame is foul<br> +Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep<br> +The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits<br> +Of offering, and the merit of the prayer<br> +Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!<br> +He that will enter heaven must enter pure.<br> +Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,<br> +And Krishna, and the dear-loved Draupadí,<br> +Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount<br> +Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?<br> +Hath Yudhisthira vanquished self, to melt<br> +With one poor passion at the door of bliss?<br> +Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,--<br> +Draupadí, Bhima?"<br> +<br> + +But the King yet spake:--<br> +"'Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.<br> +They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,<br> +Following my footsteps, could not live again<br> +Though I had turned,--therefore I did not turn;<br> +But could help profit, I had stayed to help.<br> +There be four sins, O Sâkra, grievous sins:<br> +The first is making suppliants despair,<br> +The second is to slay a nursing wife,<br> +The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force,<br> +The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.<br> +These four I deem not direr than the crime,<br> +If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,<br> +Abandon any meanest comrade then."<br> +<br> +Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled;<br> +Vanished the hound, and in its stead stood there<br> +The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self!<br> +Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,<br> +Precious the lovely praise:--"O thou true King,<br> +Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed<br> +Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth<br> +As he before, on all which lives!--O son!<br> +I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time<br> +They smote thy brothers, bringing water; then<br> +Thou prayedst for Nakula's life--tender and just--<br> +Nor Bhima's nor Arjuna's, true to both,<br> +To Madri as to Kunti, to both queens.<br> +Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount<br> +This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent<br> +Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven<br> +Shall sit above thee, King!--Bhârata's son!<br> +Enter thou now to the eternal joys,<br> +Living and in thy form. Justice and Love<br> +Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<blockquote><a name="HE_AND_SHE"></a> <b>HE AND +SHE</b></blockquote> +<br> +<blockquote>"She is dead!" they said to him: "come away;<br> +Kiss her and leave her,--thy love is clay!"<br> +<br> +They smoothed her tresses of dark-brown hair;<br> +On her forehead of stone they laid it fair;<br> +<br> +Over her eyes that gazed too much<br> +They drew the lids with a gentle touch;<br> +<br> +With a tender touch they closed up well<br> +The sweet thin lips that had secrets to tell;<br> +<br> +About her brows and beautiful face<br> +They tied her veil and her marriage lace,<br> +<br> +And drew on her white feet her white-silk shoes,--<br> +Which were the whitest no eye could choose,--<br> +<br> +And over her bosom they crossed her hands,<br> +"Come away!" they said, "God understands."<br> +<br> +And there was silence, and nothing there<br> +But silence, and scents of eglantere,<br> +<br> +And jasmine, and roses and rosemary;<br> +And they said, "As a lady should lie, lies she."<br> +<br> +And they held their breath till they left the room,<br> +With a shudder, to glance at its stillness and gloom.<br> +<br> +But he who loved her too well to dread<br> +The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead,<br> +<br> +He lit his lamp, and took the key<br> +And turned it--alone again, he and she.<br> +<br> +He and she; but she would not speak,<br> +Though he kissed, in the old place, the quiet cheek.<br> +<br> +He and she; yet she would not smile,<br> +Though he called her the name she loved erewhile.<br> +<br> +He and she; still she did not move<br> +To any passionate whisper of love.<br> +<br> +Then he said, "Cold lips and breasts without breath,<br> +Is there no voice, no language of death,<br> +<br> +"Dumb to the ear and still to the sense,<br> +But to heart and to soul distinct, intense?<br> +<br> +"See, now; I will listen with soul, not ear:<br> +What was the secret of dying, dear?<br> +<br> +"Was it the infinite wonder of all<br> +That you ever could let life's flower fall?<br> +<br> +"Or was it a greater marvel to feel<br> +The perfect calm o'er the agony steal?<br> +<br> +"Was the miracle greater to find how deep<br> +Beyond all dreams sank downward that sleep?<br> +<br> +"Did life roll back its record dear,<br> +And show, as they say it does, past things clear?<br> +<br> +"And was it the innermost heart of the bliss<br> +To find out so, what a wisdom love is?<br> +<br> +"O perfect dead! O dead most dear!<br> +I hold the breath of my soul to hear.<br> +<br> +"I listen as deep as to horrible hell,<br> +As high as to heaven, and you do not tell.<br> +<br> +"There must be pleasure in dying, sweet,<br> +To make you so placid from head to feet!<br> +<br> +"I would tell you, darling, if I were dead,<br> +And 'twere your hot tears upon my brow shed,--<br> +<br> +"I would say, though the Angel of Death had laid<br> +His sword on my lips to keep it unsaid,--<br> +<br> +"You should not ask vainly, with streaming eyes,<br> +Which of all deaths was the chiefest surprise.<br> +<br> +"The very strangest and suddenest thing<br> +Of all the surprises that dying must bring."<br> +<br> +Ah, foolish world! O most kind dead!<br> +Though he told me, who will believe it was said?<br> +<br> +Who will believe that he heard her say,<br> +With the sweet, soft voice, in the dear old way,<br> +<br> +"The utmost wonder is this,--I hear<br> +And see you, and love you, and kiss you, dear;<br> +<br> +"And am your angel, who was your bride,<br> +And know that though dead, I have never died."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="AFTER_DEATH"></a> <b>AFTER +DEATH</b></p> +<blockquote>From 'Pearls of the Faith'</blockquote> +<br> +<blockquote><i>He made life--and He takes it--but instead<br> +Gives more: praise the Restorer, Al-Mu'hid!</i><br> +He who died at Azan sends<br> +This to comfort faithful friends:--<br> +<br> +Faithful friends! it lies, I know,<br> +Pale and white and cold as snow;<br> +And ye say, "Abdullah's dead!"<br> +Weeping at my feet and head.<br> +I can see your falling tears,<br> +I can hear your cries and prayers,<br> +Yet I smile and whisper this:--<br> +"I am not that thing you kiss;<br> +Cease your tears and let it lie:<br> +It <i>was</i> mine, it is not I."<br> +<br> +Sweet friends! what the women lave<br> +For its last bed in the grave<br> +Is a tent which I am quitting,<br> +Is a garment no more fitting,<br> +Is a cage from which at last<br> +Like a hawk my soul hath passed.<br> +Love the inmate, not the room;<br> +The wearer, not the garb; the plume<br> +Of the falcon, not the bars<br> +Which kept him from the splendid stars.<br> +<br> +Loving friends! be wise, and dry<br> +Straightway every weeping eye:<br> +What ye lift upon the bier<br> +Is not worth a wistful tear.<br> +'Tis an empty sea-shell, one<br> +Out of which the pearl is gone.<br> +The shell is broken, it lies there;<br> +The pearl, the all, the soul, is here.<br> +'Tis an earthen jar whose lid<br> +Allah sealed, the while it hid<br> +That treasure of His treasury,<br> +A mind which loved Him: let it lie!<br> +Let the shard be earth's once more,<br> +Since the gold shines in His store!<br> +<br> +Allah Mu'hid, Allah most good!<br> +Now Thy grace is understood:<br> +Now my heart no longer wonders<br> +What Al-Barsakh is, which sunders<br> +Life from death, and death from Heaven:<br> +Nor the "Paradises Seven"<br> +Which the happy dead inherit;<br> +Nor those "birds" which bear each spirit<br> +Toward the Throne, "green birds and white"<br> +Radiant, glorious, swift their flight!<br> +Now the long, long darkness ends.<br> +Yet ye wail, my foolish friends,<br> +While the man whom ye call "dead"<br> +In unbroken bliss instead<br> +Lives, and loves you: lost, 'tis true<br> +By any light which shines for you;<br> +But in light ye cannot see<br> +Of unfulfilled felicity,<br> +And enlarging Paradise;<br> +Lives the life that never dies.<br> +<br> +Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell;<br> +Where I am, ye, too, shall dwell.<br> +I am gone before your face<br> +A heart-beat's time, a gray ant's pace.<br> +When ye come where I have stepped,<br> +Ye will marvel why ye wept;<br> +Ye will know, by true love taught,<br> +That here is all, and there is naught.<br> +Weep awhile, if ye are fain,--<br> +Sunshine still must follow rain!<br> +Only not at death, for death--<br> +Now I see--is that first breath<br> +Which our souls draw when we enter<br> +Life, that is of all life centre.<br> +<br> +Know ye Allah's law is love,<br> +Viewed from Allah's Throne above;<br> +Be ye firm of trust, and come<br> +Faithful onward to your home!<br> +<i>"La Allah illa Allah!</i> Yea,<br> +Mu'hid! Restorer! Sovereign!" say!<br> +<br> +<i>He who died at Azan gave</i><br> +<i>This to those that made his grave</i>.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="SOLOMON_AND_THE_ANT"></a> <b>SOLOMON +AND THE ANT</b></p> +<p class="heading">From 'Pearls of the Faith'</p> +<blockquote><i>Say Ar-Raheen! call Him "Compassionate,"</i><br> +<i>For He is pitiful to small and great</i>.<br> +'Tis written that the serving angels stand<br> +Beside God's throne, ten myriads on each hand,<br> +Waiting, with wings outstretched and watchful eyes,<br> +To do their Master's heavenly embassies.<br> +Quicker than thought His high commands they read,<br> +Swifter than light to execute them speed;<br> +Bearing the word of power from star to star,<br> +Some hither and some thither, near and far.<br> +And unto these naught is too high or low,<br> +Too mean or mighty, if He wills it so;<br> +Neither is any creature, great or small,<br> +Beyond His pity, which embraceth all,<br> +Because His eye beholdeth all which are;<br> +Sees without search, and counteth without care.<br> +Nor lies the babe nearer the nursing-place<br> +Than Allah's smallest child to Allah's grace;<br> +Nor any ocean rolls so vast that He<br> +Forgets one wave of all that restless sea.<br> +<br> +Thus it is written; and moreover told<br> +How Gabriel, watching by the Gates of Gold,<br> +Heard from the Voice Ineffable this word<br> +Of twofold mandate uttered by the Lord:--<br> +"Go earthward! pass where Solomon hath made<br> +His pleasure-house, and sitteth there arrayed,<br> +Goodly and splendid--whom I crowned the king.<br> +For at this hour my servant doth a thing<br> +Unfitting: out of Nisibis there came<br> +A thousand steeds with nostrils all aflame<br> +And limbs of swiftness, prizes of the fight;<br> +Lo! these are led, for Solomon's delight,<br> +Before the palace, where he gazeth now<br> +Filling his heart with pride at that brave show;<br> +So taken with the snorting and the tramp<br> +Of his war-horses, that Our silver lamp<br> +Of eve is swung in vain, Our warning Sun<br> +Will sink before his sunset-prayer's begun;<br> +So shall the people say, 'This king, our lord,<br> +Loves more the long-maned trophies of his sword<br> +Than the remembrance of his God!' Go in!<br> +Save thou My faithful servant from such sin.<br> +<br> +"Also, upon the slope of Arafat,<br> +Beneath a lote-tree which is fallen flat,<br> +Toileth a yellow ant who carrieth home<br> +Food for her nest, but so far hath she come<br> +Her worn feet fail, and she will perish, caught<br> +In the falling rain; but thou, make the way naught-And<br> +help her to her people in the cleft<br> +Of the black rock."<br> +<br> + +Silently Gabriel left<br> +The Presence, and prevented the king's sin,<br> +And holp the little ant at entering in.<br> +<br> +<i>O Thou whose love is wide and great,<br> +We praise Thee, "The Compassionate</i>"</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_AFTERNOON"></a> <b>THE +AFTERNOON</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">From 'Pearls of the Faith'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><i>He is sufficient, and He makes suffice</i>;</p> +<p class="i5"><i>Praise thus again thy Lord, mighty and +wise</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">God is enough! thou, who in hope and fear</p> +<p class="i5">Toilest through desert-sands of life, sore tried,</p> +<p class="i4">Climb trustful over death's black ridge, for near</p> +<p class="i5">The bright wells shine: thou wilt be satisfied.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">God doth suffice! O thou, the patient one,</p> +<p class="i5">Who puttest faith in Him, and none beside,</p> +<p class="i4">Bear yet thy load; under the setting sun</p> +<p class="i5">The glad tents gleam: thou wilt be satisfied.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">By God's gold Afternoon! peace ye shall have:</p> +<p class="i5">Man is in loss except he live aright,</p> +<p class="i4">And help his fellow to be firm and brave,</p> +<p class="i5">Faithful and patient: then the restful night!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"><i>Al Mughni! best Rewarder! we</i></p> +<p class="i6"><i>Endure; putting our trust in Thee</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_TRUMPET"></a> <b>THE +TRUMPET</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">From 'Pearls of the Faith'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"><i>Magnify Him, Al-Kaiyum; and so call</i></p> +<p class="i6"><i>The "Self-subsisting" God who judgeth all</i>.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">When the trumpet shall sound,</p> +<p class="i7">On that day,</p> +<p class="i6">The wicked, slow-gathering,</p> +<p class="i7">Shall say,</p> +<p class="i6">"Is it long we have lain in our graves?</p> +<p class="i7">For it seems as an hour!"</p> +<p class="i6">Then will Israfil call them to judgment:</p> +<p class="i7">And none shall have power</p> +<p class="i6">To turn aside, this way or that;</p> +<p class="i7">And their voices will sink</p> +<p class="i6">To silence, except for the sounding</p> +<p class="i7">Of a noise, like the noise on the brink</p> +<p class="i6">Of the sea when its stones</p> +<p class="i7">Are dragged with a clatter and hiss</p> +<p class="i6">Down the shore, in the wild breakers' roar!</p> +<p class="i7">The sound of their woe shall be this:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then they who denied</p> +<p class="i7">That He liveth Eternal, "Self-made,"</p> +<p class="i6">Shall call to the mountains to crush them;</p> +<p class="i7">Amazed and affrayed.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7"><i>Thou Self-subsistent, Living Lord!</i></p> +<p class="i7"><i>Thy grace against that day afford</i>.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="ENVOI_TO_THE_LIGHT_OF_ASIA"></a> +<b>ENVOI TO 'THE LIGHT OF ASIA'</b></p> +<blockquote>Ah, Blessed Lord! Oh, High Deliverer!<br> +Forgive this feeble script which doth Thee wrong<br> +Measuring with little wit Thy lofty Love.<br> +Ah, Lover! Brother! Guide! Lamp of the Law!<br> +I take my refuge in Thy name and Thee!<br> +I take my refuge in Thy Law of God!<br> +I take my refuge in Thy Order! <i>Om!</i><br> +The Dew is on the lotus--rise, great Sun!<br> +And lift my leaf and mix me with the wave.<br> +<i>Om mani padme hum</i>, the Sunrise comes!<br> +The Dewdrop slips into the Shining Sea!</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading">From Harper's Monthly</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="GRISHMA_OR_THE_SEASON_OF_HEAT"></a> +<b>GRISHMA; OR THE SEASON OF HEAT</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Translated from Kalidasa's 'Ritu Sanhâra'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">With fierce noons beaming, moons of glory +gleaming,</p> +<p class="i5">Full conduits streaming, where fair bathers lie,</p> +<p class="i4">With sunsets splendid, when the strong day, +ended,</p> +<p class="i5">Melts into peace, like a tired lover's sigh--</p> +<p class="i9">So cometh summer nigh.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">And nights of ebon blackness, laced with lustres</p> +<p class="i5">From starry clusters; courts of calm retreat,</p> +<p class="i4">Where wan rills warble over glistening marble;</p> +<p class="i5">Cold jewels, and the sandal, moist and sweet--</p> +<p class="i9">These for the time are meet</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Of "Suchi," dear one of the bright days, bringing</p> +<p class="i5">Love songs for singing which all hearts enthrall,</p> +<p class="i4">Wine cups that sparkle at the lips of lovers,</p> +<p class="i5">Odors and pleasures in the palace hall:</p> +<p class="i9">In "Suchi" these befall.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">For then, with wide hips richly girt, and bosoms</p> +<p class="i5">Fragrant with blossoms, and with pearl strings +gay,</p> +<p class="i4">Their new-laved hair unbound, and spreading round</p> +<p class="i5">Faint scents, the palace maids in tender play</p> +<p class="i9">The ardent heats allay</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Of princely playmates. Through the gates their +feet,</p> +<p class="i5">With lac-dye rosy and neat, and anklets ringing,</p> +<p class="i4">In music trip along, echoing the song</p> +<p class="i5">Of wild swans, all men's hearts by subtle singing</p> +<p class="i9">To Kama's service bringing;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">For who, their sandal-scented breasts perceiving,</p> +<p class="i5">Their white pearls--weaving with the saffron +stars</p> +<p class="i4">Girdles and diadems--their gold and gems</p> +<p class="i5">Linked upon waist and thigh, in Love's soft +snares</p> +<p class="i9">Is not caught unawares?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Then lay they by their robes--no longer light</p> +<p class="i5">For the warm midnight--and their beauty cover</p> +<p class="i4">With woven veil too airy to conceal</p> +<p class="i5">Its dew-pearled softness; so, with youth clad +over,</p> +<p class="i9">Each seeks her eager lover.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">And sweet airs winnowed from the sandal fans,</p> +<p class="i5">Faint balm that nests between those gem-bound +breasts,</p> +<p class="i4">Voices of stream and bird, and clear notes heard</p> +<p class="i5">From vina strings amid the songs' unrests,</p> +<p class="i9">Wake passion. With light jests,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">And sidelong glances, and coy smiles and dances,</p> +<p class="i5">Each maid enhances newly sprung delight;</p> +<p class="i4">Quick leaps the fire of Love's divine desire,</p> +<p class="i5">So kindled in the season when the Night</p> +<p class="i9">With broadest moons is bright;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Till on the silvered terraces, sleep-sunken,</p> +<p class="i5">With Love's draughts drunken, those close lovers +lie;</p> +<p class="i4">And--all for sorrow there shall come To-morrow--</p> +<p class="i5">The Moon, who watched them, pales in the gray +sky,</p> +<p class="i9">While the still Night doth die.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Then breaks fierce Day! The whirling dust is +driven</p> +<p class="i5">O'er earth and heaven, until the sun-scorched +plain</p> +<p class="i4">Its road scarce shows for dazzling heat to those</p> +<p class="i5">Who, far from home and love, journey in pain,</p> +<p class="i9">Longing to rest again.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Panting and parched, with muzzles dry and +burning,</p> +<p class="i5">For cool streams yearning, herds of antelope</p> +<p class="i4">Haste where the brassy sky, banked black and +high,</p> +<p class="i5">Hath clouded promise. "There will be"--they +hope--</p> +<p class="i9">"Water beyond the tope!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Sick with the glare, his hooded terrors failing,</p> +<p class="i5">His slow coils trailing o'er the fiery dust,</p> +<p class="i4">The cobra glides to nighest shade, and hides</p> +<p class="i5">His head beneath the peacock's train: he must</p> +<p class="i9">His ancient foeman trust!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The purple peafowl, wholly overmastered</p> +<p class="i5">By the red morning, droop with weary cries;</p> +<p class="i4">No stroke they make to slay that gliding snake</p> +<p class="i5">Who creeps for shelter underneath the eyes</p> +<p class="i9">Of their spread jewelries!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The jungle lord, the kingly tiger, prowling,</p> +<p class="i5">For fierce thirst howling, orbs a-stare and red,</p> +<p class="i4">Sees without heed the elephants pass by him,</p> +<p class="i5">Lolls his lank tongue, and hangs his bloody head,</p> +<p class="i9">His mighty forces fled.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Nor heed the elephants that tiger, plucking</p> +<p class="i5">Green leaves, and sucking with a dry trunk dew;</p> +<p class="i4">Tormented by the blazing day, they wander,</p> +<p class="i5">And, nowhere finding water, still renew</p> +<p class="i9">Their search--a woful crew!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">With restless snout rooting the dark morasses,</p> +<p class="i5">Where reeds and grasses on the soft slime grow,</p> +<p class="i4">The wild-boars, grunting ill-content and anger,</p> +<p class="i5">Dig lairs to shield them from the torturing glow,</p> +<p class="i9">Deep, deep as they can go.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The frog, for misery of his pool departing--</p> +<p class="i5">'Neath that flame-darting ball--and waters +drained</p> +<p class="i4">Down to their mud, crawls croaking forth, to +cower</p> +<p class="i5">Under the black-snake's coils, where there is +gained</p> +<p class="i9">A little shade; and, strained</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">To patience by such heat, scorching the jewel</p> +<p class="i5">Gleaming so cruel on his venomous head,</p> +<p class="i4">That worm, whose tongue, as the blast burns +along,</p> +<p class="i5">Licks it for coolness--all discomfited--</p> +<p class="i9">Strikes not his strange friend dead!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The pool, with tender-growing cups of lotus</p> +<p class="i5">Once brightly blowing, hath no blossoms more!</p> +<p class="i4">Its fish are dead, its fearful cranes are fled,</p> +<p class="i5">And crowding elephants its flowery shore</p> +<p class="i9">Tramp to a miry floor.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">With foam-strings roping from his jowls, and +dropping</p> +<p class="i5">From dried drawn lips, horns laid aback, and eyes</p> +<p class="i4">Mad with the drouth, and thirst-tormented mouth,</p> +<p class="i5">Down-thundering from his mountain cavern flies</p> +<p class="i9">The bison in wild wise,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Questing a water channel. Bare and scrannel</p> +<p class="i5">The trees droop, where the crows sit in a row</p> +<p class="i4">With beaks agape. The hot baboon and ape</p> +<p class="i5">Climb chattering to the bush. The buffalo</p> +<p class="i9">Bellows. And locusts go</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Choking the wells. Far o'er the hills and dells</p> +<p class="i5">Wanders th' affrighted eye, beholding blasted</p> +<p class="i4">The pleasant grass: the forest's leafy mass</p> +<p class="i5">Wilted; its waters waned; its grace exhausted;</p> +<p class="i9">Its creatures wasted.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Then leaps to view--blood-red and bright of hue--</p> +<p class="i5">As blooms sprung new on the Kusumbha-Tree--</p> +<p class="i4">The wild-fire's tongue, fanned by the wind, and +flung</p> +<p class="i5">Furiously forth; the palms, canes, brakes, you +see</p> +<p class="i9">Wrapped in one agony</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Of lurid death! The conflagration, driven</p> +<p class="i5">In fiery levin, roars from jungle caves;</p> +<p class="i4">Hisses and blusters through the bamboo clusters,</p> +<p class="i5">Crackles across the curling grass, and drives</p> +<p class="i9">Into the river waves</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The forest folk! Dreadful that flame to see</p> +<p class="i5">Coil from the cotton-tree--a snake of gold--</p> +<p class="i4">Violently break from root and trunk, to take</p> +<p class="i5">The bending boughs and leaves in deadly hold</p> +<p class="i9">Then passing--to enfold</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">New spoils! In herds, elephants, jackals, pards,</p> +<p class="i5">For anguish of such fate their enmity</p> +<p class="i4">Laying aside, burst for the river wide</p> +<p class="i5">Which flows between fair isles: in company</p> +<p class="i9">As friends they madly flee!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">But Thee, my Best Beloved! may "Suchi" visit fair</p> +<p class="i4">With songs of secret waters cooling the quiet +air,</p> +<p class="i4">Under blue buds of lotus beds, and pâtalas +which shed</p> +<p class="i4">Fragrance and balm, while Moonlight weaves over thy +happy head</p> +<p class="i4">Its silvery veil! So Nights and Days of Summer pass +for thee</p> +<p class="i4">Amid the pleasure-palaces, with love and melody!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="MATTHEW_ARNOLD"></a>MATTHEW ARNOLD</h2> +<h3>(1822-1888)</h3> +<h3>BY GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-m.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>atthew Arnold, an English poet and critic, was born December +24th, 1822, at Laleham, in the Thames valley. He was the son of Dr. +Thomas Arnold, best remembered as the master of Rugby in later +years, and distinguished also as a historian of Rome. His mother +was, by her maiden name, Mary Penrose, and long survived her +husband. Arnold passed his school days at Winchester and Rugby, and +went to Oxford in October, 1841. There, as also at school, he won +scholarship and prize, and showed poetical talent. He was elected a +fellow of Oriel in March, 1845. He taught for a short time at +Rugby, but in 1847 became private secretary to Lord Lansdowne, who +in 1851 appointed him school inspector. From that time he was +engaged mainly in educational labors, as inspector and +commissioner, and traveled frequently on the Continent examining +foreign methods. He was also interested controversially in +political and religious questions of the day, and altogether had a +sufficient public life outside of literature. In 1851 he married +Frances Lucy, daughter of Sir William Wightman, a judge of the +Court of Queen's Bench, and by her had five children, three sons +and two daughters.</p> +<p>His first volume of verse, 'The Strayed Reveller and Other +Poems,' bears the date 1849; the second, 'Empedocles on Etna and +Other Poems,' 1852; the third, 'Poems,' made up mainly from the two +former, was published in 1853, and thereafter he added little to +his poetic work. His first volume of similar significance in prose +was 'Essays in Criticism,' issued in 1865. Throughout his mature +life he was a constant writer, and his collected works of all kinds +now fill eleven volumes, exclusive of his letters. In 1857 he was +elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford, and there began his career +as a lecturer; and this method of public expression he employed +often. His life was thus one with many diverse activities, and +filled with practical or literary affairs; and on no side was it +deficient in human relations. He won respect and reputation while +he lived; and his works continue to attract men's minds, although +with much unevenness. He died at Liverpool, on April 15th, +1888.</p> +<a name="illus0844.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0844.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>That considerable portion of Arnold's writings which was +concerned with education and politics, or with phases of +theological thought and religious tendency, however valuable in +contemporary discussion, and to men and movements of the third +quarter of the century, must be set on one side. It is not because +of anything there contained that he has become a permanent figure +of his time, or is of interest in literature. He achieved +distinction as a critic and as a poet; but although he was earlier +in the field as a poet, he was recognized by the public at large +first as a critic. The union of the two functions is not unusual in +the history of literature; but where success has been attained in +both, the critic has commonly sprung from the poet in the man, and +his range and quality have been limited thereby. It was so with +Dryden and Wordsworth, and, less obviously, with Landor and Lowell. +In Arnold's case there is no such growth: the two modes of writing, +prose and verse, were disconnected. One could read his essays +without suspecting a poet, and his poems without discerning a +critic, except so far as one finds the moralist there. In fact, +Arnold's critical faculty belonged rather to the practical side of +his life, and was a part of his talents as a public man.</p> +<p>This appears by the very definitions that he gave, and by the +turn of his phrase, which always keeps an audience rather than a +meditative reader in view. "What is the function of criticism at +the present time?" he asks, and answers--"A disinterested endeavor +to learn and propagate the best that is known and thought in the +world." That is a wide warrant. The writer who exercises his +critical function under it, however, is plainly a reformer at +heart, and labors for the social welfare. He is not an analyst of +the form of art for its own sake, or a contemplator of its +substance of wisdom or beauty merely. He is not limited to +literature or the other arts of expression, but the world--the +intellectual world--is all before him where to choose; and having +learned the best that is known and thought, his second and +manifestly not inferior duty is to go into all nations, a messenger +of the propaganda of intelligence. It is a great mission, and nobly +characterized; but if criticism be so defined, it is criticism of a +large mold.</p> +<p>The scope of the word conspicuously appears also in the phrase, +which became proverbial, declaring that literature is "a criticism +of life." In such an employment of terms, ordinary meanings +evaporate: and it becomes necessary to know the thought of the +author rather than the usage of men. Without granting the dictum, +therefore, which would be far from the purpose, is it not clear +that by "critic" and "criticism" Arnold intended to designate, or +at least to convey, something peculiar to his own conception,--not +strictly related to literature at all, it may be, but more closely +tied to society in its general mental activity? In other words, +Arnold was a critic of civilization more than of books, and aimed +at illumination by means of ideas. With this goes his manner,--that +habitual air of telling you something which you did not know +before, and doing it for your good,--which stamps him as a preacher +born. Under the mask of the critic is the long English face of the +gospeler; that type whose persistent physiognomy was never absent +from the conventicle of English thought.</p> +<p>This evangelizing prepossession of Arnold's mind must be +recognized in order to understand alike his attitude of +superiority, his stiffly didactic method, and his success in +attracting converts in whom the seed proved barren. The first +impression that his entire work makes is one of limitation; so +strict is this limitation, and it profits him so much, that it +seems the element in which he had his being. On a close survey, the +fewness of his ideas is most surprising, though the fact is +somewhat cloaked by the lucidity of his thought, its logical vigor, +and the manner of its presentation. He takes a text, either some +formula of his own or some adopted phrase that he has made his own, +and from that he starts out only to return to it again and again +with ceaseless iteration. In his illustrations, for example, when +he has pilloried some poor gentleman, otherwise unknown, for the +astounded and amused contemplation of the Anglican monocle, he +cannot let him alone. So too when, with the journalist's nack for +nicknames, he divides all England into three parts, he cannot +forget the rhetorical exploit. He never lets the points he has made +fall into oblivion; and hence his work in general, as a critic, is +skeletonized to the memory in watchwords, formulas, and nicknames, +which, taken altogether, make up only a small number of ideas.</p> +<p>His scale, likewise, is meagre. His essay is apt to be a book +review or a plea merely; it is without that free illusiveness and +undeveloped suggestion which indicate a full mind and give to such +brief pieces of writing the sense of overflow. He takes no large +subject as a whole, but either a small one or else some phases of +the larger one; and he exhausts all that he touches. He seems to +have no more to say. It is probable that his acquaintance with +literature was incommensurate with his reputation or apparent scope +as a writer. As he has fewer ideas than any other author of his +time of the same rank, so he discloses less knowledge of his own or +foreign literatures. His occupations forbade wide acquisition; he +husbanded his time, and economized also by giving the best +direction to his private studies, and he accomplished much; but he +could not master the field as any man whose profession was +literature might easily do. Consequently, in comparison with +Coleridge or Lowell, his critical work seems dry and bare, with +neither the fluency nor the richness of a master.</p> +<p>In yet another point this paucity of matter appears. What Mr. +Richard Holt Hutton says in his essay on the poetry of Arnold is so +apposite here that it will be best to quote the passage. He is +speaking, in an aside, of Arnold's criticisms:--</p> +<blockquote>"They are fine, they are keen, they are often true; but +they are always too much limited to the thin superficial layer of +the moral nature of their subjects, and seem to take little +comparative interest in the deeper individuality beneath. Read his +essay on Heine, and you will see the critic engrossed with the +relation of Heine to the political and social ideas of his day, and +passing over with comparative indifference the true soul of Heine, +the fountain of both his poetry and his cynicism. Read his five +lectures on translating Homer, and observe how exclusively the +critic's mind is occupied with the form as distinguished from the +substance of the Homeric poetry. Even when he concerns himself with +the greatest modern poets,--with Shakespeare as in the preface to +the earlier edition of his poems, or with Goethe in reiterated +poetical criticisms, or when he again and again in his poems treats +of Wordsworth,--it is always the style and superficial doctrine of +their poetry, not the individual character and unique genius, which +occupy him. He will tell you whether a poet is 'sane and clear,' or +stormy and fervent; whether he is rapid and noble, or loquacious +and quaint; whether a thinker penetrates the husks of conventional +thought which mislead the crowd; whether there is sweetness as well +as lucidity in his aims; whether a descriptive writer has +'distinction' of style, or is admirable only for his vivacity: but +he rarely goes to the individual heart of any of the subjects of +his criticism; he finds their style and class, but not their +personality in that class; he <i>ranks</i> his men, but does not +portray them; hardly even seems to find much interest in the +<i>individual</i> roots of their character."</blockquote> +<p>In brief, this is to say that Arnold took little interest in +human nature; nor is there anything in his later essays on Byron, +Keats, Wordsworth, Milton, or Gray, to cause us to revise the +judgment on this point. In fact, so far as he touched on the +personality of Keats or Gray, to take the capital instances, he was +most unsatisfactory.</p> +<p>Arnold was not, then, one of those critics who are interested in +life itself, and through the literary work seize on the soul of the +author in its original brightness, or set forth the life-stains in +the successive incarnations of his heart and mind. Nor was he of +those who consider the work itself final, and endeavor simply to +understand it,--form and matter,--and so to mediate between genius +and our slower intelligence. He followed neither the psychological +nor the aesthetic method. It need hardly be said that he was born +too early to be able ever to conceive of literature as a phenomenon +of society, and its great men as only terms in an evolutionary +series. He had only a moderate knowledge of literature, and his +stock of ideas was small; his manner of speech was hard and dry, +there was a trick in his style, and his self-repetition is +tiresome.</p> +<p>What gave him vogue, then, and what still keeps his more +literary work alive? Is it anything more than the temper in which +he worked, and the spirit which he evoked in the reader? He stood +for the very spirit of intelligence in his time. He made his +readers respect ideas, and want to have as many as possible. He +enveloped them in an atmosphere of mental curiosity and alertness, +and put them in contact with novel and attractive themes. In +particular, he took their minds to the Continent and made them feel +that they were becoming cosmopolitan by knowing Joubert; or at +home, he rallied them in opposition to the dullness of the period, +to "barbarism" or other objectionable traits in the social classes: +and he volleyed contempt upon the common multitudinous foe in +general, and from time to time cheered them with some delectable +examples of single combat. It cannot be concealed that there was +much malicious pleasure in it all. He was not indisposed to +high-bred cruelty. Like Lamb, he "loved a fool," but it was in a +mortar; and pleasant it was to see the spectacle when he really +took a man in hand for the chastisement of irony. It is thus that +"the <i>seraphim illuminati</i> sneer." And in all his +controversial writing there was a brilliancy and unsparingness that +will appeal to the deepest instincts of a fighting race, +willy-nilly; and as one had only to read the words to feel himself +among the children of light, so that our withers were unwrung, +there was high enjoyment.</p> +<p>This liveliness of intellectual conflict, together with the +sense of ideas, was a boon to youth especially; and the academic +air in which the thought and style always moved, with scholarly +self-possession and assurance, with the dogmatism of +"enlightenment" in all ages and among all sects, with serenity and +security unassailable, from within at least--this academic +"clearness and purity without shadow or stain" had an overpowering +charm to the college-bred and cultivated, who found the rare +combination of information, taste, and aggressiveness in one of +their own ilk. Above all, there was the play of intelligence on +every page; there was an application of ideas to life in many +regions of the world's interests; there was contact with a mind +keen, clear, and firm, armed for controversy or persuasion equally, +and filled with eager belief in itself, its ways, and its will.</p> +<p>To meet such personality in a book was a bracing experience; and +for many these essays were an awakening of the mind itself. We may +go to others for the greater part of what criticism can give,--for +definite and fundamental principles, for adequate characterization, +for the intuition and the revelation, the penetrant flash of +thought and phrase: but Arnold generates and supports a temper of +mind in which the work of these writers best thrives even in its +own sphere; and through him this temper becomes less individual +than social, encompassing the whole of life. Few critics have been +really less "disinterested," few have kept their eyes less steadily +"upon the object": but that fact does not lessen the value of his +precepts of disinterestedness and objectivity; nor is it necessary, +in becoming "a child of light," to join in spirit the unhappy +"remnant" of the academy, or to drink too deep of that honeyed +satisfaction, with which he fills his readers, of being on his +side. As a critic, Arnold succeeds if his main purpose does not +fail, and that was to reinforce the party of ideas, of culture, of +the children of light; to impart, not moral vigor, but openness and +reasonableness of mind; and to arouse and arm the intellectual in +contradistinction to the other energies of civilization.</p> +<p>The poetry of Arnold, to pass to the second portion of his work, +was less widely welcomed than his prose, and made its way very +slowly; but it now seems the most important and permanent part. It +is not small in quantity, though his unproductiveness in later +years has made it appear that he was less fluent and abundant in +verse than he really was. The remarkable thing, as one turns to his +poems, is the contrast in spirit that they afford to the essays: +there is here an atmosphere of entire calm. We seem to be in a +different world. This fact, with the singular silence of his +familiar letters in regard to his verse, indicates that his poetic +life was truly a thing apart.</p> +<p>In one respect only is there something in common between his +prose and verse: just as interest in human nature was absent in the +latter, it is absent also in the former. There is no action in the +poems; neither is there character for its own sake. Arnold was a +man of the mind, and he betrays no interest in personality except +for its intellectual traits; in Clough as in Obermann, it is the +life of thought, not the human being, that he portrays. As a poet, +he expresses the moods of the meditative spirit in view of nature +and our mortal existence; and he represents life, not lyrically by +its changeful moments, nor tragically by its conflict in great +characters, but philosophically by a self-contained and unvarying +monologue, deeper or less deep in feeling and with cadences of +tone, but always with the same grave and serious effect. He is +constantly thinking, whatever his subject or his mood; his attitude +is intellectual, his sentiments are maxims, his conclusions are +advisory. His world is the sphere of thought, and his poems have +the distance and repose and also the coldness that befit that +sphere; and the character of his imagination, which lays hold of +form and reason, makes natural to him the classical style.</p> +<p>It is obvious that the sources of his poetical culture are +Greek. It is not merely, however, that he takes for his early +subjects Merope and Empedocles, or that he strives in 'Balder Dead' +for Homeric narrative, or that in the recitative to which he was +addicted he evoked an immelodious phantom of Greek choruses; nor is +it the "marmoreal air" that chills while it ennobles much of his +finest work. One feels the Greek quality not as a source but as a +presence. In Tennyson, Keats, and Shelley, there was Greek +influence, but in them the result was modern. In Arnold the +antiquity remains; remains in mood, just as in Landor it remains in +form. The Greek twilight broods over all his poetry. It is pagan in +philosophic spirit; not Attic, but of a later and stoical time, +with the very virtues of patience, endurance, suffering, not in +their Christian types, but as they now seem to a post-Christian +imagination looking back to the imperial past. There is a +difference, it is true, in Arnold's expression of the mood: he is +as little Sophoclean as he is Homeric, as little Lucretian as he is +Vergilian. The temperament is not the same, not a survival or a +revival of the antique, but original and living. And yet the mood +of the verse is felt at once to be a reincarnation of the deathless +spirit of Hellas, that in other ages also has made beautiful and +solemn for a time the shadowed places of the Christian world. If +one does not realize this, he must miss the secret of the +tranquillity, the chill, the grave austerity, as well as the +philosophical resignation, which are essential to the verse. Even +in those parts of the poems which use romantic motives, one reason +of their original charm is that they suggest how the Greek +imagination would have dealt with the forsaken merman, the church +of Brou, and Tristram and Iseult. The presence of such motives, +such mythology, and such Christian and chivalric color in the work +of Arnold does not disturb the simple unity of its feeling, which +finds no solvent for life, whatever its accident of time and place +and faith, except in that Greek spirit which ruled in thoughtful +men before the triumph of Christianity, and is still native in men +who accept the intellect as the sole guide of life.</p> +<p>It was with reference to these modern men and the movement they +took part in, that he made his serious claim to greatness; to rank, +that is, with Tennyson and Browning, as he said, in the literature +of his time. "My poems," he wrote, "represent on the whole the main +movement of mind of the last quarter of a century; and thus they +will probably have their day as people become conscious to +themselves of what that movement of mind is, and interested in the +literary productions that reflect it. It might be fairly urged that +I have less poetical sentiment than Tennyson, and less intellectual +vigor and abundance than Browning; yet because I have, perhaps, +more of a fusion of the two than either of them, and have more +regularly applied that fusion to the main line of modern +development, I am likely enough to have my turn, as they have had +theirs." If the main movement had been such as he thought of it, or +if it had been of importance in the long run, there might be a +sounder basis for this hope than now appears to be the case; but +there can be no doubt, let the contemporary movement have been what +it may, that Arnold's mood is one that will not pass out of men's +hearts to-day nor to-morrow.</p> +<p>On the modern side the example of Wordsworth was most formative, +and in fact it is common to describe Arnold as a Wordsworthian: and +so, in his contemplative attitude to nature, and in his habitual +recourse to her, he was; but both nature herself as she appeared to +him, and his mood in her presence, were very different from +Wordsworth's conception and emotion. Arnold finds in nature a +refuge from life, an anodyne, an escape; but Wordsworth, in going +into the hills for poetical communion, passed from a less to a +fuller and deeper life, and obtained an inspiration, and was +seeking the goal of all his being. In the method of approach, too, +as well as in the character of the experience, there was a profound +difference between the two poets. Arnold sees with the outward +rather than the inward eye. He is pictorial in a way that +Wordsworth seldom is; he uses detail much more, and gives a group +or a scene with the externality of a painter. The method resembles +that of Tennyson rather than that of Wordsworth, and has more +direct analogy with the Greek manner than with the modern and +emotional schools; it is objective, often minute, and always +carefully composed, in the artistic sense of that term. The +description of the river Oxus, for example, though faintly charged +with suggested and allegoric meaning, is a noble close to the poem +which ends in it. The scale is large, and Arnold was fond of a +broad landscape, of mountains, and prospects over the land; but one +cannot fancy Wordsworth writing it. So too, on a small scale, the +charming scene of the English garden in 'Thyrsis' is far from +Wordsworth's manner:--</p> +<blockquote>"When garden walks and all the grassy floor<br> +With blossoms red and white of fallen May<br> + And chestnut-flowers are strewn--<br> +So have I heard the cuckoo's parting cry,<br> +From the wet field, through the vext garden trees,<br> +Come with the volleying rain and tossing breeze."</blockquote> +<p>This is a picture that could be framed: how different from +Wordsworth's "wandering voice"! Or to take another notable example, +which, like the Oxus passage, is a fine close in the 'Tristram and +Iseult,'--the hunter on the arras above the dead lovers:--</p> +<blockquote>"A stately huntsman, clad in green,<br> +And round him a fresh forest scene.<br> +On that clear forest-knoll he stays,<br> +With his pack round him, and delays.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +The wild boar rustles in his lair,<br> +The fierce hounds snuff the tainted air,<br> +But lord and hounds keep rooted there.<br> +Cheer, cheer thy dogs into the brake,<br> +O hunter! and without a fear<br> +Thy golden tasseled bugle blow"</blockquote> +<p>But no one is deceived, and the hunter does not move from the +arras, but is still "rooted there," with his green suit and his +golden tassel. The piece is pictorial, and highly wrought for +pictorial effects only, obviously decorative and used as stage +scenery precisely in the manner of our later theatrical art, with +that accent of forethought which turns the beautiful into the +aesthetic. This is a method which Wordsworth never used. Take one +of his pictures, the 'Reaper' for example, and see the difference. +The one is out-of-doors, the other is of the studio. The purpose of +these illustrations is to show that Arnold's nature-pictures are +not only consciously artistic, with an arrangement that approaches +artifice, but that he is interested through his eye primarily and +not through his emotions. It is characteristic of his temperament +also that he reminds one most often of the painter in +water-colors.</p> +<p>If there is this difference between Arnold and Wordsworth in +method, a greater difference in spirit is to be anticipated. It is +a fixed gulf. In nature Wordsworth found the one spirit's "plastic +stress," and a near and intimate revelation to the soul of truths +that were his greatest joy and support in existence. Arnold finds +there no inhabitancy of God, no such streaming forth of wisdom and +beauty from the fountain heads of being; but the secret frame of +nature is filled only with the darkness, the melancholy, the +waiting endurance that is projected from himself:--</p> +<blockquote>"Yet, Fausta, the mute turf we tread,<br> +The solemn hills about us spread,<br> +The stream that falls incessantly,<br> +The strange-scrawled rocks, the lonely sky,<br> +If I might lend their life a voice,<br> +Seem to bear rather than rejoice."</blockquote> +<p>Compare this with Wordsworth's 'Stanzas on Peele Castle,' and +the important reservations that must be borne in mind in describing +Arnold as a Wordsworthian will become clearer. It is as a relief +from thought, as a beautiful and half-physical diversion, as a +scale of being so vast and mysterious as to reduce the pettiness of +human life to nothingness,--it is in these ways that nature has +value in Arnold's verse. Such a poet may describe natural scenes +well, and obtain by means of them contrast to human conditions, and +decorative beauty; but he does not penetrate nature or interpret +what her significance is in the human spirit, as the more emotional +poets have done. He ends in an antithesis, not in a synthesis, and +both nature and man lose by the divorce. One looks in vain for +anything deeper than landscapes in Arnold's treatment of nature; +she is emptied of her own infinite, and has become spiritually +void: and in the simple great line in which he gave the sea--</p> +<blockquote>"The unplumbed, salt, estranging sea--"</blockquote> +<p>he is thinking of man, not of the ocean: and the mood seems +ancient rather than modern, the feeling of a Greek, just as the +sound of the waves to him is always Aegean.</p> +<p>In treating of man's life, which must be the main thing in any +poet's work, Arnold is either very austere or very pessimistic. If +the feeling is moral, the predominant impression is of austerity; +if it is intellectual, the predominant impression is of sadness. He +was not insensible to the charm of life, but he feels it in his +senses only to deny it in his mind. The illustrative passage is +from 'Dover Beach':--</p> +<blockquote> "Ah, love, let us be true<br> +To one another! for the world which seems<br> +To lie before us like a land of dreams,<br> + So various, so beautiful, so new,<br> +Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,<br> +Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain."</blockquote> +<p>This is the contradiction of sense and thought, the voice of a +regret grounded in the intellect (for if it were vital and grounded +in the emotions it would become despair); the creed of illusion and +futility in life, which is the characteristic note of Arnold, and +the reason of his acceptance by many minds. The one thing about +life which he most insists on is its isolation, its individuality. +In the series called 'Switzerland,' this is the substance of the +whole; and the doctrine is stated with an intensity and power, with +an amplitude and prolongation, that set these poems apart as the +most remarkable of all his lyrics. From a poet so deeply impressed +with this aspect of existence, and unable to find its remedy or its +counterpart in the harmony of life, no joyful or hopeful word can +be expected, and none is found. The second thing about life which +he dwells on is its futility; though he bids one strive and work, +and points to the example of the strong whom he has known, yet one +feels that his voice rings more true when he writes of Obermann +than in any other of the elegiac poems. In such verse as the +'Summer Night,' again, the genuineness of the mood is indubitable. +In 'The Sick King of Bokhara,' the one dramatic expression of his +genius, futility is the very centre of the action. The fact that so +much of his poetry seems to take its motive from the subsidence of +Christian faith has set him among the skeptic or agnostic poets, +and the "main movement" which he believed he had expressed was +doubtless that in which agnosticism was a leading element. The +unbelief of the third quarter of the century was certainly a +controlling influence over him, and in a man mainly intellectual by +nature it could not well have been otherwise.</p> +<p>Hence, as one looks at his more philosophical and lyrical +poems--the profounder part of his work--and endeavors to determine +their character and sources alike, it is plain to see that in the +old phrase, "the pride of the intellect" lifts its lonely column +over the desolation of every page. The man of the academy is here, +as in the prose, after all. He reveals himself in the literary +motive, the bookish atmosphere of the verse, in its vocabulary, its +elegance of structure, its precise phrase and its curious allusions +(involving footnotes), and in fact, throughout all its form and +structure. So self-conscious is it that it becomes frankly prosaic +at inconvenient times, and is more often on the level of eloquent +and graceful rhetoric than of poetry. It is frequently liquid and +melodious, but there is no burst of native song in it anywhere. It +is the work of a true poet, nevertheless; but there are many voices +for the Muse. It is sincere, it is touched with reality; it is the +mirror of a phase of life in our times, and not in our times only, +but whenever the intellect seeks expression for its sense of the +limitation of its own career, and its sadness in a world which it +cannot solve.</p> +<p>A word should be added concerning the personality of Arnold +which is revealed in his familiar letters,--a collection that has +dignified the records of literature with a singularly noble memory +of private life. Few who did not know Arnold could have been +prepared for the revelation of a nature so true, so amiable, so +dutiful. In every relation of private life he is shown to have been +a man of exceptional constancy and plainness. The letters are +mainly home letters; but a few friendships also yielded up their +hoard, and thus the circle of private life is made complete. Every +one must take delight in the mental association with Arnold in the +scenes of his existence, thus daily exposed, and in his family +affections. A nature warm to its own, kindly to all, cheerful, fond +of sport and fun, and always fed from pure fountains, and with it a +character so founded upon the rock, so humbly serviceable, so +continuing in power and grace, must wake in all the responses of +happy appreciation, and leave the charm of memory.</p> +<p>He did his duty as naturally as if it required neither resolve, +nor effort, nor thought of any kind for the morrow, and he never +failed, seemingly, in act or word of sympathy, in little or great +things; and when, to this, one adds the clear ether of the +intellectual life where he habitually moved in his own life apart, +and the humanity of his home, the gift that these letters bring may +be appreciated. That gift is the man himself; but set in the +atmosphere of home, with son-ship and fatherhood, sisters and +brothers, with the bereavements of years fully accomplished, and +those of babyhood and boyhood,--a sweet and wholesome English home, +with all the cloud and sunshine of the English world drifting over +its roof-tree, and the soil of England beneath its stones, and +English duties for the breath of its being. To add such a home to +the household-rights of English literature is perhaps something +from which Arnold would have shrunk, but it endears his memory.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-399.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="INTELLIGENCE_AND_GENIUS"></a>INTELLIGENCE AND +GENIUS</h2> +<center>From 'Essays in Criticism'</center> +<br> +<p>What are the essential characteristics of the spirit of our +nation? Not, certainly, an open and clear mind, not a quick and +flexible intelligence. Our greatest admirers would not claim for us +that we have these in a pre-eminent degree; they might say that we +had more of them than our detractors gave us credit for, but they +would not assert them to be our essential characteristics. They +would rather allege, as our chief spiritual characteristics, energy +and honesty; and if we are judged favorably and positively, not +invidiously and negatively, our chief characteristics are no doubt +these: energy and honesty, not an open and clear mind, not a quick +and flexible intelligence. Openness of mind and flexibility of +intelligence were very signal characteristics of the Athenian +people in ancient times; everybody will feel that. Openness of mind +and flexibility of intelligence are remarkable characteristics of +the French people in modern times,--at any rate, they strikingly +characterize them as compared with us; I think everybody, or almost +everybody, will feel that. I will not now ask what more the +Athenian or the French spirit has than this, nor what shortcomings +either of them may have as a set-off against this; all I want now +to point out is that they have this, and that we have it in a much +lesser degree.</p> +<p>Let me remark, however, that not only in the moral sphere, but +also in the intellectual and spiritual sphere, energy and honesty +are most important and fruitful qualities; that for instance, of +what we call genius, energy is the most essential part. So, by +assigning to a nation energy and honesty as its chief spiritual +characteristics,--by refusing to it, as at all eminent +characteristics, openness of mind and flexibility of +intelligence,--we do not by any means, as some people might at +first suppose, relegate its importance and its power of manifesting +itself with effect from the intellectual to the moral sphere. We +only indicate its probable special line of successful activity in +the intellectual sphere, and, it is true, certain imperfections and +failings to which in this sphere it will always be subject. Genius +is mainly an affair of energy, and poetry is mainly an affair of +genius; therefore a nation whose spirit is characterized by energy +may well be eminent in poetry;--and we have Shakespeare. Again, the +highest reach of science is, one may say, an inventive power, a +faculty of divination, akin to the highest power exercised in +poetry; therefore a nation whose spirit is characterized by energy +may well be eminent in science;--and we have Newton. Shakespeare +and Newton: in the intellectual sphere there can be no higher +names. And what that energy, which is the life of genius, above +everything demands and insists upon, is freedom; entire +independence of all authority, prescription, and routine,--the +fullest room to expand as it will. Therefore a nation whose chief +spiritual characteristic is energy will not be very apt to set up, +in intellectual matters, a fixed standard, an authority, like an +academy. By this it certainly escapes certain real inconveniences +and dangers; and it can at the same time, as we have seen, reach +undeniably splendid heights in poetry and science.</p> +<p>On the other hand, some of the requisites of intellectual work +are specially the affair of quickness of mind and flexibility of +intelligence. The form, the method of evolution, the precision, the +proportions, the relations of the parts to the whole, in an +intellectual work, depend mainly upon them. And these are the +elements of an intellectual work which are really most communicable +from it, which can most be learned and adopted from it, which have +therefore the greatest effect upon the intellectual performance of +others. Even in poetry these requisites are very important; and the +poetry of a nation not eminent for the gifts on which they depend, +will more or less suffer by this shortcoming. In poetry, however, +they are after all secondary, and energy is the first thing; but in +prose they are of first-rate importance. In its prose literature, +therefore, and in the routine of intellectual work generally, a +nation with no particular gifts for these will not be so +successful. These are what, as I have said, can to a certain degree +be learned and appropriated, while the free activity of genius +cannot. Academies consecrate and maintain them, and therefore a +nation with an eminent turn for them naturally establishes +academies. So far as routine and authority tend to embarrass energy +and inventive genius, academies may be said to be obstructive to +energy and inventive genius, and to this extent to the human +spirit's general advance. But then this evil is so much compensated +by the propagation, on a large scale, of the mental aptitudes and +demands which an open mind and a flexible intelligence naturally +engender, genius itself in the long run so greatly finds its +account in this propagation, and bodies like the French Academy +have such power for promoting it, that the general advance of the +human spirit is perhaps, on the whole, rather furthered than +impeded by their existence.</p> +<p>How much greater is our nation in poetry than prose! how much +better, in general, do the productions of its spirit show in the +qualities of genius than in the qualities of intelligence! One may +constantly remark this in the work of individuals: how much more +striking, in general, does any Englishman--of some vigor of mind, +but by no means a poet--seem in his verse than in his prose! His +verse partly suffers from his not being really a poet, partly no +doubt from the very same defects which impair his prose, and he +cannot express himself with thorough success in it, but how much +more powerful a personage does he appear in it, by dint of feeling +and of originality and movement of ideas, than when he is writing +prose! With a Frenchman of like stamp, it is just the reverse: set +him to write poetry, he is limited, artificial, and impotent; set +him to write prose, he is free, natural, and effective. The power +of French literature is in its prose writers, the power of English +literature is in its poets. Nay, many of the celebrated French +poets depend wholly for their fame upon the qualities of +intelligence which they exhibit,--qualities which are the +distinctive support of prose; many of the celebrated English prose +writers depend wholly for their fame upon the qualities of genius +and imagination which they exhibit,--qualities which are the +distinctive support of poetry.</p> +<p>But as I have said, the qualities of genius are less +transferable than the qualities of intelligence; less can be +immediately learned and appropriated from their product; they are +less direct and stringent intellectual agencies, though they may be +more beautiful and divine. Shakespeare and our great Elizabethan +group were certainly more gifted writers than Corneille and his +group; but what was the sequel to this great literature, this +literature of genius, as we may call it, stretching from Marlowe to +Milton? What did it lead up to in English literature? To our +provincial and second-rate literature of the eighteenth century. +What, on the other hand, was the sequel to the literature of the +French "great century," to this literature of intelligence, as by +comparison with our Elizabethan literature we may call it; what did +it lead up to? To the French literature of the eighteenth century, +one of the most powerful and pervasive intellectual agencies that +have ever existed,--the greatest European force of the eighteenth +century. In science, again, we had Newton, a genius of the very +highest order, a type of genius in science if ever there was one. +On the continent, as a sort of counterpart to Newton, there was +Leibnitz; a man, it seems to me (though on these matters I speak +under correction), of much less creative energy of genius, much +less power of divination than Newton, but rather a man of admirable +intelligence, a type of intelligence in science if ever there was +one. Well, and what did they each directly lead up to in science? +What was the intellectual generation that sprang from each of them? +I only repeat what the men of science have themselves pointed out. +The man of genius was continued by the English analysts of the +eighteenth century, comparatively powerless and obscure followers +of the renowned master. The man of intelligence was continued by +successors like Bernoulli, Euler, Lagrange, and Laplace, the +greatest names in modern mathematics.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="SWEETNESS_AND_LIGHT"></a>SWEETNESS AND LIGHT</h2> +<center>From 'Culture and Anarchy'</center> +<br> +<p>The disparagers of culture make its motive curiosity; sometimes, +indeed, they make its motive mere exclusiveness and vanity. The +culture which is supposed to plume itself on a smattering of Greek +and Latin is a culture which is begotten by nothing so intellectual +as curiosity; it is valued either out of sheer vanity and +ignorance, or else as an engine of social and class distinction, +separating its holder, like a badge or title, from other people who +have not got it. No serious man would call this <i>culture</i>, or +attach any value to it, as culture, at all. To find the real ground +for the very differing estimate which serious people will set upon +culture, we must find some motive for culture in the terms of which +may lie a real ambiguity; and such a motive the word +<i>curiosity</i> gives us.</p> +<p>I have before now pointed out that we English do not, like the +foreigners, use this word in a good sense as well as in a bad +sense. With us the word is always used in a somewhat disapproving +sense. A liberal and intelligent eagerness about the things of the +mind may be meant by a foreigner when he speaks of curiosity; but +with us the word always conveys a certain notion of frivolous and +unedifying activity. In the Quarterly Review, some little time ago, +was an estimate of the celebrated French critic, M. Sainte-Beuve; +and a very inadequate estimate it in my judgment was. And its +inadequacy consisted chiefly in this: that in our English way it +left out of sight the double sense really involved in the word +<i>curiosity</i>, thinking enough was said to stamp M. Sainte-Beuve +with blame if it was said that he was impelled in his operations as +a critic by curiosity, and omitting either to perceive that M. +Sainte-Beuve himself, and many other people with him, would +consider that this was praiseworthy and not blameworthy, or to +point out why it ought really to be accounted worthy of blame and +not of praise. For as there is a curiosity about intellectual +matters which is futile, and merely a disease, so there is +certainly a curiosity--a desire after the things of the mind simply +for their own sakes and for the pleasure of seeing them as they +are--which is, in an intelligent being, natural and laudable. Nay, +and the very desire to see things as they are implies a balance and +regulation of mind which is not often attained without fruitful +effort, and which is the very opposite of the blind and diseased +impulse of mind which is what we mean to blame when we blame +curiosity. Montesquieu says:--"The first motive which ought to +impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence of our +nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more intelligent." +This is the true ground to assign for the genuine scientific +passion, however manifested, and for culture, viewed simply as a +fruit of this passion; and it is a worthy ground, even though we +let the term <i>curiosity</i> stand to describe it.</p> +<p>But there is of culture another view, in which not solely the +scientific passion, the sheer desire to see things as they are, +natural and proper in an intelligent being, appears as the ground +of it. There is a view in which all the love of our neighbor, the +impulses toward action, help, and beneficence, the desire for +removing human error, clearing human confusion, and diminishing +human misery, the noble aspiration to leave the world better and +happier than we found it,--motives eminently such as are called +social,--come in as part of the grounds of culture, and the main +and pre-eminent part. Culture is then properly described not as +having its origin in curiosity, but as having its origin in the +love of perfection; it is <i>a study of perfection</i>. It moves by +the force, not merely or primarily of the scientific passion for +pure knowledge, but also of the moral and social passion for doing +good. As in the first view of it we took for its worthy motto +Montesquieu's words, "To render an intelligent being yet more +intelligent!" so in the second view of it there is no better motto +which it can have than these words of Bishop Wilson: "To make +reason and the will of God prevail."</p> +<p>Only, whereas the passion for doing good is apt to be over-hasty +in determining what reason and the will of God say, because its +turn is for acting rather than thinking, and it wants to be +beginning to act; and whereas it is apt to take its own +conceptions, which proceed from its own state of development and +share in all the imperfections and immaturities of this, for a +basis of action: what distinguishes culture is, that it is +possessed by the scientific passion as well as by the passion of +doing good; that it demands worthy notions of reason and the will +of God, and does not readily suffer its own crude conceptions to +substitute themselves for them. And knowing that no action or +institution can be salutary and stable which is not based on reason +and the will of God, it is not so bent on acting and instituting, +even with the great aim of diminishing human error and misery ever +before its thoughts, but that it can remember that acting and +instituting are of little use, unless we know how and what we ought +to act and to institute....</p> +<p>The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and +light. He who works for sweetness and light, works to make reason +and the will of God prevail. He who works for machinery, he who +works for hatred, works only for confusion. Culture looks beyond +machinery, culture hates hatred; culture has one great passion, the +passion for sweetness and light. It has one even yet greater!--the +passion for making them <i>prevail.</i> It is not satisfied till we +<i>all</i> come to a perfect man; it knows that the sweetness and +light of the few must be imperfect until the raw and unkindled +masses of humanity are touched with sweetness and light. If I have +not shrunk from saying that we must work for sweetness and light, +so neither have I shrunk from saying that we must have a broad +basis, must have sweetness and light for as many as possible. Again +and again I have insisted how those are the happy moments of +humanity, how those are the marking epochs of a people's life, how +those are the flowering times for literature and art and all the +creative power of genius, when there is a <i>national</i> glow of +life and thought, when the whole of society is in the fullest +measure permeated by thought, sensible to beauty, intelligent and +alive. Only it must be <i>real</i> thought and <i>real</i> beauty; +<i>real</i> sweetness and <i>real</i> light. Plenty of people will +try to give the masses, as they call them, an intellectual food +prepared and adapted in the way they think proper for the actual +condition of the masses. The ordinary popular literature is an +example of this way of working on the masses. Plenty of people will +try to indoctrinate the masses with the set of ideas and judgments +constituting the creed of their own profession or party. Our +religious and political organizations give an example of this way +of working on the masses. I condemn neither way; but culture works +differently. It does not try to teach down to the level of inferior +classes; it does not try to win them for this or that sect of its +own, with ready-made judgments and watchwords. It seeks to do away +with classes; to make the best that has been thought and known in +the world current everywhere; to make all men live in an atmosphere +of sweetness and light, where they may use ideas, as it uses them +itself, freely,--nourished and not bound by them.</p> +<p>This is the <i>social idea</i>; and the men of culture are the +true apostles of equality. The great men of culture are those who +have had a passion for diffusing, for making prevail, for carrying +from one end of society to the other, the best knowledge, the best +ideas of their time; who have labored to divest knowledge of all +that was harsh, uncouth, difficult, abstract, professional, +exclusive; to humanize it, to make it efficient outside the clique +of the cultivated and learned, yet still remaining the <i>best</i> +knowledge and thought of the time, and a true source, therefore, of +sweetness and light. Such a man was Abélard in the Middle +Ages, in spite of all his imperfections; and thence the boundless +emotion and enthusiasm which Abélard excited. Such were +Lessing and Herder in Germany, at the end of the last century; and +their services to Germany were in this way inestimably precious. +Generations will pass, and literary monuments will accumulate, and +works far more perfect than the works of Lessing and Herder will be +produced in Germany; and yet the names of these two men will fill a +German with a reverence and enthusiasm such as the names of the +most gifted masters will hardly awaken. And why? Because they +<i>humanized</i> knowledge; because they broadened the basis of +life and intelligence; because they worked powerfully to diffuse +sweetness and light, to make reason and the will of God prevail. +With Saint Augustine they said:--"Let us not leave thee alone to +make in the secret of thy knowledge, as thou didst before the +creation of the firmament, the division of light from darkness; let +the children of thy spirit, placed in their firmament, make their +light shine upon the earth, mark the division of night and day, and +announce the revolution of the times; for the old order is passed, +and the new arises; the night is spent, the day is come forth; and +thou shalt crown the year with thy blessing, when thou shalt send +forth laborers into thy harvest sown by other hands than theirs; +when thou shalt send forth new laborers to new seed-times, whereof +the harvest shall be not yet."</p> +<p>Keeping this in view, I have in my own mind often indulged +myself with the fancy of employing, in order to designate our +aristocratic class, the name of <i>The Barbarians</i>. The +Barbarians, to whom we all owe so much, and who reinvigorated and +renewed our worn-out Europe, had, as is well known, eminent merits; +and in this country, where we are for the most part sprung from the +Barbarians, we have never had the prejudice against them which +prevails among the races of Latin origin. The Barbarians brought +with them that stanch individualism, as the modern phrase is, and +that passion for doing as one likes, for the assertion of personal +liberty, which appears to Mr. Bright the central idea of English +life, and of which we have at any rate a very rich supply. The +stronghold and natural seat of this passion was in the nobles of +whom our aristocratic class are the inheritors; and this class, +accordingly, have signally manifested it, and have done much by +their example to recommend it to the body of the nation, who +already, indeed, had it in their blood. The Barbarians, again, had +the passion for field-sports; and they have handed it on to our +aristocratic class, who of this passion, too, as of the passion for +asserting one's personal liberty, are the great natural stronghold. +The care of the Barbarians for the body, and for all manly +exercises; the vigor, good looks, and fine complexion which they +acquired and perpetuated in their families by these means,--all +this may be observed still in our aristocratic class. The chivalry +of the Barbarians, with its characteristics of high spirit, choice +manners, and distinguished bearing,--what is this but the +attractive commencement of the politeness of our aristocratic +class? In some Barbarian noble, no doubt, one would have admired, +if one could have been then alive to see it, the rudiments of our +politest peer. Only, all this culture (to call it by that name) of +the Barbarians was an exterior culture mainly. It consisted +principally in outward gifts and graces, in looks, manners, +accomplishments, prowess. The chief inward gifts which had part in +it were the most exterior, so to speak, of inward gifts, those +which come nearest to outward ones; they were courage, a high +spirit, self-confidence. Far within, and unawakened, lay a whole +range of powers of thought and feeling, to which these interesting +productions of nature had, from the circumstances of their life, no +access. Making allowances for the difference of the times, surely +we can observe precisely the same thing now in our aristocratic +class. In general its culture is exterior chiefly; all the exterior +graces and accomplishments, and the more external of the inward +virtues, seem to be principally its portion. It now, of course, +cannot but be often in contact with those studies by which, from +the world of thought and feeling, true culture teaches us to fetch +sweetness and light; but its hold upon these very studies appears +remarkably external, and unable to exert any deep power upon its +spirit. Therefore the one insufficiency which we noted in the +perfect mean of this class was an insufficiency of light. And owing +to the same causes, does not a subtle criticism lead us to make, +even on the good looks and politeness of our aristocratic class, +and of even the most fascinating half of that class, the feminine +half, the one qualifying remark, that in these charming gifts there +should perhaps be, for ideal perfection, a shade more +<i>soul</i>?</p> +<p>I often, therefore, when I want to distinguish clearly the +aristocratic class from the Philistines proper, or middle class, +name the former, in my own mind, <i>The Barbarians</i>. And when I +go through the country, and see this and that beautiful and +imposing seat of theirs crowning the landscape, "There," I say to +myself, "is a great fortified post of the Barbarians."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="OXFORD"></a>OXFORD</h2> +<center>From 'Essays in Criticism'</center> +<br> +<p>No, we are all seekers still! seekers often make mistakes, and I +wish mine to redound to my own discredit only, and not to touch +Oxford. Beautiful city! so venerable, so lovely, so unravaged by +the fierce intellectual life of our century, so serene!</p> +<blockquote>"There are our young barbarians all at +play!"</blockquote> +<br> +<p>And yet, steeped in sentiment as she lies, spreading her gardens +to the moonlight, and whispering from her towers the last +enchantments of the Middle Age, who will deny that Oxford, by her +ineffable charm, keeps ever calling us nearer to the true goal of +all of us, to the ideal, to perfection,--to beauty, in a word, +which is only truth seen from another side?--nearer, perhaps, than +all the science of Tübingen. Adorable dreamer, whose heart has +been so romantic! who hast given thyself so prodigally, given +thyself to sides and to heroes not mine, only never to the +Philistines! home of lost causes, and forsaken beliefs, and +unpopular names, and impossible loyalties! what example could ever +so inspire us to keep down the Philistine in ourselves, what +teacher could ever so save us from that bondage to which we are all +prone, that bondage which Goethe, in his incomparable lines on the +death of Schiller, makes it his friend's highest praise (and nobly +did Schiller deserve the praise) to have left miles out of sight +behind him: the bondage of "<i>was uns alle bandigt, Das +Gemeine!</i>" She will forgive me, even if I have unwittingly drawn +upon her a shot or two aimed at her unworthy son; for she is +generous, and the cause in which I fight is, after all, hers. +Apparitions of a day, what is our puny warfare against the +Philistines, compared with the warfare which this queen of romance +has been waging against them for centuries, and will wage after we +are gone?</p> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="TO_A_FRIEND"></a> <b>TO A +FRIEND</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Who prop, thou ask'st, in these bad days, my +mind?--</p> +<p class="i5">He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of +men,</p> +<p class="i5">Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen,</p> +<p class="i4">And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind.</p> +<p class="i4">Much he, whose friendship I not long since won,</p> +<p class="i5">That halting slave, who in Nicopolis</p> +<p class="i4">Taught Arrian, when Vespasian's brutal son</p> +<p class="i5">Cleared Rome of what most shamed him. But he his</p> +<p class="i4">My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul,</p> +<p class="i5">From first youth tested up to extreme old age,</p> +<p class="i6">Business could not make dull, nor passion wild;</p> +<p class="i4">Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole;</p> +<p class="i5">The mellow glory of the Attic stage,</p> +<p class="i6">Singer of sweet Colonus, and its child.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<blockquote> +<blockquote><a name="YOUTH_AND_CALM"></a> <b>YOUTH AND +CALM</b></blockquote> +</blockquote> +<blockquote> +<blockquote>'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here,<br> +And ease from shame, and rest from fear.<br> +There's nothing can dismarble now<br> +The smoothness of that limpid brow.<br> +But is a calm like this, in truth,<br> +The crowning end of life and youth,<br> +And when this boon rewards the dead,<br> +Are all debts paid, has all been said?<br> +And is the heart of youth so light,<br> +Its step so firm, its eye so bright,<br> +Because on its hot brow there blows<br> +A wind of promise and repose<br> +From the far grave, to which it goes;<br> +Because it has the hope to come,<br> +One day, to harbor in the tomb?<br> +Ah no, the bliss youth dreams is one<br> +For daylight, for the cheerful sun,<br> +For feeling nerves and living breath--<br> +Youth dreams a bliss on this side death.<br> +It dreams a rest, if not more deep,<br> +More grateful than this marble sleep;<br> +It hears a voice within it tell:<br> +<i>Calms not life's crown, though calm is well.</i><br> +'Tis all perhaps which man acquires,<br> +But 'tis not what our youth desires.</blockquote> +</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="ISOLATION"></a> <b>ISOLATION</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">TO MARGUERITE</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">We were apart; yet, day by day,</p> +<p class="i5">I bade my heart more constant be.</p> +<p class="i4">I bade it keep the world away,</p> +<p class="i5">And grow a home for only thee;</p> +<p class="i4">Nor feared but thy love likewise grew,</p> +<p class="i4">Like mine, each day, more tried, more true.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">The fault was grave! I might have known,</p> +<p class="i5">What far too soon, alas! I learned--</p> +<p class="i4">The heart can bind itself alone,</p> +<p class="i5">And faith may oft be unreturned.</p> +<p class="i4">Self-swayed our feelings ebb and swell--</p> +<p class="i4">Thou lov'st no more;--Farewell! Farewell!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Farewell!--and thou, thou lonely heart,</p> +<p class="i5">Which never yet without remorse</p> +<p class="i4">Even for a moment didst depart</p> +<p class="i5">From thy remote and spherèd course</p> +<p class="i4">To haunt the place where passions reign--</p> +<p class="i4">Back to thy solitude again!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Back! with the conscious thrill of shame</p> +<p class="i5">Which Luna felt, that summer-night,</p> +<p class="i4">Flash through her pure immortal frame,</p> +<p class="i5">When she forsook the starry height</p> +<p class="i4">To hang over Endymion's sleep</p> +<p class="i4">Upon the pine-grown Latmian steep.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Yet she, chaste queen, had never proved</p> +<p class="i5">How vain a thing is mortal love,</p> +<p class="i4">Wandering in Heaven, far removed;</p> +<p class="i5">But thou hast long had place to prove</p> +<p class="i4">This truth--to prove, and make thine own:</p> +<p class="i4">"Thou hast been, shalt be, art, alone."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Or, if not quite alone, yet they</p> +<p class="i5">Which touch thee are unmating things--</p> +<p class="i4">Ocean and clouds and night and day;</p> +<p class="i5">Lorn autumns and triumphant springs;</p> +<p class="i4">And life, and others' joy and pain,</p> +<p class="i4">And love, if love, of happier men.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Of happier men--for they, at least,</p> +<p class="i5">Have dreamed two human hearts might blend</p> +<p class="i4">In one, and were through faith released</p> +<p class="i5">From isolation without end</p> +<p class="i4">Prolonged; nor knew, although not less</p> +<p class="i4">Alone than thou, their loneliness.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Yes! in the sea of life enisled,</p> +<p class="i5">With echoing straits between us thrown,</p> +<p class="i4">Dotting the shoreless watery wild,</p> +<p class="i5">We mortal millions live alone.</p> +<p class="i4">The islands feel the enclasping flow,</p> +<p class="i4">And then their endless bounds they know.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">But when the moon their hollow lights,</p> +<p class="i5">And they are swept by balms of spring,</p> +<p class="i4">And in their glens, on starry nights,</p> +<p class="i5">The nightingales divinely sing;</p> +<p class="i4">And lovely notes, from shore to shore,</p> +<p class="i4">Across the sounds and channels pour--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Oh! then a longing like despair</p> +<p class="i5">Is to their farthest caverns sent;</p> +<p class="i4">For surely once, they feel, we were</p> +<p class="i5">Parts of a single continent!</p> +<p class="i4">Now round us spreads the watery plain--</p> +<p class="i4">Oh, might our marges meet again!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Who ordered that their longing's fire</p> +<p class="i5">Should be, as soon as kindled, cooled?</p> +<p class="i4">Who renders vain their deep desire?--</p> +<p class="i5">A God, a God their severance ruled!</p> +<p class="i4">And bade betwixt their shores to be</p> +<p class="i4">The unplumbed, salt, estranging sea</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p><a name= +"STANZAS_IN_MEMORY_OF_THE_AUTHOR_OF_OBERMANN_1849"></a> +<b>STANZAS IN MEMORY OF THE AUTHOR OF 'OBERMANN' (1849)</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">In front the awful Alpine track</p> +<p class="i7">Crawls up its rocky stair;</p> +<p class="i6">The autumn storm-winds drive the rack,</p> +<p class="i7">Close o'er it, in the air.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Behind are the abandoned baths</p> +<p class="i7">Mute in their meadows lone;</p> +<p class="i6">The leaves are on the valley-paths,</p> +<p class="i7">The mists are on the Rhone--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The white mists rolling like a sea!</p> +<p class="i7">I hear the torrents roar.</p> +<p class="i6">--Yes, Obermann, all speaks of thee;</p> +<p class="i7">I feel thee near once more.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">I turn thy leaves! I feel their breath</p> +<p class="i7">Once more upon me roll;</p> +<p class="i6">That air of languor, cold, and death,</p> +<p class="i7">Which brooded o'er thy soul.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Fly hence, poor wretch, whoe'er thou art,</p> +<p class="i7">Condemned to cast about,</p> +<p class="i6">All shipwreck in thy own weak heart,</p> +<p class="i7">For comfort from without!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">A fever in these pages burns</p> +<p class="i7">Beneath the calm they feign;</p> +<p class="i6">A wounded human spirit turns,</p> +<p class="i7">Here, on its bed of pain.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Yes, though the virgin mountain-air</p> +<p class="i7">Fresh through these pages blows;</p> +<p class="i6">Though to these leaves the glaciers spare</p> +<p class="i7">The soul of their mute snows;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Though here a mountain-murmur swells</p> +<p class="i7">Of many a dark-boughed pine;</p> +<p class="i6">Though, as you read, you hear the bells</p> +<p class="i7">Of the high-pasturing kine--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Yet, through the hum of torrent lone,</p> +<p class="i7">And brooding mountain-bee,</p> +<p class="i6">There sobs I know not what ground-tone</p> +<p class="i7">Of human agony.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Is it for this, because the sound</p> +<p class="i7">Is fraught too deep with pain,</p> +<p class="i6">That, Obermann! the world around</p> +<p class="i7">So little loves thy strain?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And then we turn, thou sadder sage,</p> +<p class="i7">To thee! we feel thy spell!</p> +<p class="i6">--The hopeless tangle of our age,</p> +<p class="i7">Thou too hast scanned it well!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Immovable thou sittest, still</p> +<p class="i7">As death, composed to bear!</p> +<p class="i6">Thy head is clear, thy feeling chill,</p> +<p class="i7">And icy thy despair.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">He who hath watched, not shared, the strife,</p> +<p class="i7">Knows how the day hath gone.</p> +<p class="i6">He only lives with the world's life</p> +<p class="i7">Who hath renounced his own.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">To thee we come, then! Clouds are rolled</p> +<p class="i7">Where thou, O seer! art set;</p> +<p class="i6">Thy realm of thought is drear and cold--</p> +<p class="i7">The world is colder yet!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And thou hast pleasures, too, to share</p> +<p class="i7">With those who come to thee--</p> +<p class="i6">Balms floating on thy mountain-air,</p> +<p class="i7">And healing sights to see.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">How often, where the slopes are green</p> +<p class="i7">On Jaman, hast thou sate</p> +<p class="i6">By some high chalet-door, and seen</p> +<p class="i7">The summer-day grow late;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And darkness steal o'er the wet grass</p> +<p class="i7">With the pale crocus starr'd,</p> +<p class="i6">And reach that glimmering sheet of glass</p> +<p class="i7">Beneath the piny sward,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Lake Leman's waters, far below!</p> +<p class="i7">And watched the rosy light</p> +<p class="i6">Fade from the distant peaks of snow;</p> +<p class="i7">And on the air of night</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Heard accents of the eternal tongue</p> +<p class="i7">Through the pine branches play--</p> +<p class="i6">Listened and felt thyself grow young!</p> +<p class="i7">Listened, and wept--Away!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Away the dreams that but deceive!</p> +<p class="i7">And thou, sad guide, adieu!</p> +<p class="i6">I go, fate drives me; but I leave</p> +<p class="i7">Half of my life with you.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">We, in some unknown Power's employ,</p> +<p class="i7">Move on a rigorous line;</p> +<p class="i6">Can neither, when we will, enjoy,</p> +<p class="i7">Nor, when we will, resign.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">I in the world must live;--but thou,</p> +<p class="i7">Thou melancholy shade!</p> +<p class="i6">Wilt not, if thou can'st see me now,</p> +<p class="i7">Condemn me, nor upbraid.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">For thou art gone away from earth,</p> +<p class="i7">And place with those dost claim,</p> +<p class="i6">The Children of the Second Birth,</p> +<p class="i7">Whom the world could not tame.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Farewell!--Whether thou now liest near</p> +<p class="i7">That much-loved inland sea,</p> +<p class="i6">The ripples of whose blue waves cheer</p> +<p class="i7">Vevey and Meillerie;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And in that gracious region bland,</p> +<p class="i7">Where with clear-rustling wave</p> +<p class="i6">The scented pines of Switzerland</p> +<p class="i7">Stand dark round thy green grave,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Between the dusty vineyard-walls</p> +<p class="i7">Issuing on that green place,</p> +<p class="i6">The early peasant still recalls</p> +<p class="i7">The pensive stranger's face,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And stoops to clear thy moss-grown date</p> +<p class="i7">Ere he plods on again;--</p> +<p class="i6">Or whether, by maligner fate,</p> +<p class="i7">Among the swarms of men,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Where between granite terraces</p> +<p class="i7">The blue Seine rolls her wave,</p> +<p class="i6">The Capital of Pleasures sees</p> +<p class="i7">Thy hardly-heard-of grave;--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Farewell! Under the sky we part,</p> +<p class="i7">In this stern Alpine dell.</p> +<p class="i6">O unstrung will! O broken heart!</p> +<p class="i7">A last, a last farewell!</p> +</div> +</div> +<p class="heading"><a name="MEMORIAL_VERSES_1850"></a> +<b>MEMORIAL VERSES (1850)</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,</p> +<p class="i6">Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease,</p> +<p class="i6">But one such death remained to come;</p> +<p class="i6">The last poetic voice is dumb--</p> +<p class="i6">We stand to-day by Wordsworth's tomb.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">When Byron's eyes were shut in death,</p> +<p class="i6">We bowed our head and held our breath.</p> +<p class="i6">He taught us little; but our soul</p> +<p class="i6">Had felt him like the thunder's roll.</p> +<p class="i6">With shivering heart the strife we saw</p> +<p class="i6">Of passion with eternal law;</p> +<p class="i6">And yet with reverential awe</p> +<p class="i6">We watched the fount of fiery life</p> +<p class="i6">Which served for that Titanic strife.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">When Goethe's death was told, we said,--</p> +<p class="i6">Sunk, then, is Europe's sagest head.</p> +<p class="i6">Physician of the iron age,</p> +<p class="i6">Goethe has done his pilgrimage.</p> +<p class="i6">He took the suffering human race,</p> +<p class="i7">He read each wound, each weakness clear;</p> +<p class="i6">And struck his finger on the place,</p> +<p class="i7">And said: Thou ailest here, and here!</p> +<p class="i6">He looked on Europe's dying hour</p> +<p class="i6">Of fitful dream and feverish power;</p> +<p class="i6">His eye plunged down the weltering strife,</p> +<p class="i6">The turmoil of expiring life--He</p> +<p class="i6">said, The end is everywhere,</p> +<p class="i6">Art still has truth, take refuge there!</p> +<p class="i6">And he was happy, if to know</p> +<p class="i6">Causes of things, and far below</p> +<p class="i6">His feet to see the lurid flow</p> +<p class="i6">Of terror, and insane distress,</p> +<p class="i6">And headlong fate, be happiness.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And Wordsworth!--Ah, pale ghosts, rejoice!</p> +<p class="i6">For never has such soothing voice</p> +<p class="i6">Been to your shadowy world conveyed,</p> +<p class="i6">Since erst, at morn, some wandering shade</p> +<p class="i6">Heard the clear song of Orpheus come</p> +<p class="i6">Through Hades, and the mournful gloom.</p> +<p class="i6">Wordsworth has gone from us--and ye,</p> +<p class="i6">Ah, may ye feel his voice as we!</p> +<p class="i6">He too upon a wintry clime</p> +<p class="i6">Had fallen--on this iron time</p> +<p class="i7">Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears.</p> +<p class="i6">He found us when the age had bound</p> +<p class="i6">Our souls in its benumbing round;</p> +<p class="i7">He spoke, and loosed our heart in tears.</p> +<p class="i6">He laid us as we lay at birth,</p> +<p class="i6">On the cool, flowery lap of earth.</p> +<p class="i6">Smiles broke from us and we had ease;</p> +<p class="i6">The hills were round us, and the breeze</p> +<p class="i6">Went o'er the sunlit fields again;</p> +<p class="i6">Our foreheads felt the wind and rain,</p> +<p class="i6">Our youth returned; for there was shed</p> +<p class="i6">On spirits that had long been dead,</p> +<p class="i6">Spirits dried up and closely furled,</p> +<p class="i6">The freshness of the early world.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Ah! since dark days still bring to light</p> +<p class="i6">Man's prudence and man's fiery might,</p> +<p class="i6">Time may restore us in his course</p> +<p class="i6">Goethe's sage mind and Byron's force;</p> +<p class="i6">But where will Europe's latter hour</p> +<p class="i6">Again find Wordsworth's healing power?</p> +<p class="i6">Others will teach us how to dare,</p> +<p class="i7">And against fear our breast to steel;</p> +<p class="i6">Others will strengthen us to bear--</p> +<p class="i7">But who, ah! who, will make us feel?</p> +<p class="i6">The cloud of mortal destiny,</p> +<p class="i6">Others will front it fearlessly--But</p> +<p class="i6">who, like him, will put it by?</p> +<p class="i6">Keep fresh the grass upon his grave,</p> +<p class="i6">O Rotha, with thy living wave!</p> +<p class="i6">Sing him thy best! for few or none</p> +<p class="i6">Hears thy voice right, now he is gone.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_SICK_KING_IN_BOKHARA"></a> <b>THE +SICK KING IN BOKHARA</b></p> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">HUSSEIN</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O most just Vizier, send away</p> +<p class="i7">The cloth-merchants, and let them be,</p> +<p class="i6">Them and their dues, this day! the King</p> +<p class="i7">Is ill at ease, and calls for thee.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE VIZIER</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O merchants, tarry yet a day</p> +<p class="i6">Here in Bokhara! but at noon,</p> +<p class="i7">To-morrow, come, and ye shall pay</p> +<p class="i6">Each fortieth web of cloth to me,</p> +<p class="i7">As the law is, and go your way.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O Hussein, lead me to the King!</p> +<p class="i6">Thou teller of sweet tales,--thine own,</p> +<p class="i6">Ferdousi's, and the others',--lead!</p> +<p class="i6">How is it with my lord?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">HUSSEIN</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">Alone,</p> +<p class="i6">Ever since prayer-time, he doth wait,</p> +<p class="i6">O Vizier! without lying down,</p> +<p class="i6">In the great window of the gate,</p> +<p class="i7">Looking into the Registàn,</p> +<p class="i6">Where through the sellers' booths the slaves</p> +<p class="i7">Are this way bringing the dead man.--</p> +<p class="i6">O Vizier, here is the King's door!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE KING</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O Vizier, I may bury him?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE VIZIER</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O King, thou know'st, I have been sick</p> +<p class="i7">These many days, and heard no thing</p> +<p class="i6">(For Allah shut my ears and mind),</p> +<p class="i7">Not even what thou dost, O King!</p> +<p class="i6">Wherefore, that I may counsel thee,</p> +<p class="i6">Let Hussein, if thou wilt, make haste</p> +<p class="i6">To speak in order what hath chanced.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE KING</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O Vizier, be it as thou say'st!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">HUSSEIN</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Three days since, at the time of prayer,</p> +<p class="i6">A certain Moollah, with his robe</p> +<p class="i6">All rent, and dust upon his hair,</p> +<p class="i6">Watched my lord's coming forth, and pushed</p> +<p class="i6">The golden mace-bearers aside,</p> +<p class="i6">And fell at the King's feet, and cried:--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Justice, O King, and on myself!</p> +<p class="i6">On this great sinner, who did break</p> +<p class="i6">The law, and by the law must die!</p> +<p class="i6">Vengeance, O King!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">But the King spake:--</p> +<p class="i6">"What fool is this, that hurts our ears</p> +<p class="i6">With folly? or what drunken slave?</p> +<p class="i6">My guards, what, prick him with your spears!</p> +<p class="i6">Prick me the fellow from the path!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">As the King said, so was it done,</p> +<p class="i6">And to the mosque my lord passed on.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But on the morrow when the King</p> +<p class="i7">Went forth again, the holy book</p> +<p class="i6">Carried before him, as his right,</p> +<p class="i7">And through the square his way he took,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">My man comes running, flecked with blood</p> +<p class="i6">From yesterday, and falling down</p> +<p class="i6">Cries out most earnestly:--"O King,</p> +<p class="i6">My lord, O King, do right, I pray!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"How canst thou, ere thou hear, discern</p> +<p class="i6">If I speak folly? but a king,</p> +<p class="i6">Whether a thing be great or small,</p> +<p class="i6">Like Allah, hears and judges all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Wherefore hear thou! Thou know'st how fierce</p> +<p class="i7">In these last days the sun hath burned;</p> +<p class="i6">That the green water in the tanks</p> +<p class="i7">Is to a putrid puddle turned;</p> +<p class="i6">And the canal, that from the stream</p> +<p class="i6">Of Samarcand is brought this way,</p> +<p class="i6">Wastes, and runs thinner every day.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Now I at nightfall had gone forth</p> +<p class="i7">Alone, and in a darksome place</p> +<p class="i6">Under some mulberry trees I found</p> +<p class="i7">A little pool; and in short space</p> +<p class="i6">With all the water that was there</p> +<p class="i6">I filled my pitcher, and stole home</p> +<p class="i6">Unseen; and having drink to spare,</p> +<p class="i6">I hid the can behind the door,</p> +<p class="i6">And went up on the roof to sleep.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"But in the night, which was with wind</p> +<p class="i6">And burning dust, again I creep</p> +<p class="i6">Down, having fever, for a drink.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Now meanwhile had my brethren found</p> +<p class="i6">The water-pitcher, where it stood</p> +<p class="i6">Behind the door upon the ground,</p> +<p class="i6">And called my mother; and they all,</p> +<p class="i6">As they were thirsty, and the night</p> +<p class="i6">Most sultry, drained the pitcher there;</p> +<p class="i6">That they sate with it, in my sight,</p> +<p class="i6">Their lips still wet, when I came down.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"Now mark! I, being fevered, sick</p> +<p class="i7">(Most unblest also), at that sight</p> +<p class="i6">Brake forth, and cursed them--dost thou hear?--</p> +<p class="i7">One was my mother--Now, do right!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But my lord mused a space, and said:--</p> +<p class="i7">"Send him away, sirs, and make on!</p> +<p class="i6">It is some madman!" the King said.</p> +<p class="i7">As the King bade, so was it done.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The morrow, at the self-same hour,</p> +<p class="i7">In the King's path, behold, the man,</p> +<p class="i6">Not kneeling, sternly fixed! he stood</p> +<p class="i7">Right opposite, and thus began,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Frowning grim down:--"Thou wicked King,</p> +<p class="i7">Most deaf where thou shouldst most give ear!</p> +<p class="i6">What, must I howl in the next world,</p> +<p class="i7">Because thou wilt not listen here?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"What, wilt thou pray, and get thee grace,</p> +<p class="i7">And all grace shall to me be grudged?</p> +<p class="i6">Nay, but I swear, from this thy path</p> +<p class="i7">I will not stir till I be judged!"</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Then they who stood about the King</p> +<p class="i7">Drew close together and conferred;</p> +<p class="i6">Till that the King stood forth and said,</p> +<p class="i7">"Before the priests thou shalt be heard."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But when the Ulemas were met,</p> +<p class="i7">And the thing heard, they doubted not;</p> +<p class="i6">But sentenced him, as the law is,</p> +<p class="i7">To die by stoning on the spot.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Now the King charged us secretly:--</p> +<p class="i7">"Stoned must he be, the law stands so.</p> +<p class="i6">Yet, if he seek to fly, give way;</p> +<p class="i7">Hinder him not, but let him go."</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So saying, the King took a stone,</p> +<p class="i7">And cast it softly;--but the man,</p> +<p class="i6">With a great joy upon his face,</p> +<p class="i7">Kneeled down, and cried not, neither ran.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">So they, whose lot it was, cast stones,</p> +<p class="i7">That they flew thick and bruised him sore,</p> +<p class="i6">But he praised Allah with loud voice,</p> +<p class="i7">And remained kneeling as before.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">My lord had covered up his face;</p> +<p class="i7">But when one told him, "He is dead,"</p> +<p class="i6">Turning him quickly to go in,--</p> +<p class="i7">"Bring thou to me his corpse," he said.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And truly while I speak, O King,</p> +<p class="i7">I hear the bearers on the stair;</p> +<p class="i6">Wilt thou they straightway bring him in?</p> +<p class="i7">--Ho! enter ye who tarry there!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE VIZIER</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O King, in this I praise thee not.</p> +<p class="i7">Now must I call thy grief not wise,</p> +<p class="i6">Is he thy friend, or of thy blood,</p> +<p class="i7">To find such favor in thine eyes?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Nay, were he thine own mother's son,</p> +<p class="i7">Still, thou art king, and the law stands.</p> +<p class="i6">It were not meet the balance swerved,</p> +<p class="i7">The sword were broken in thy hands.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But being nothing, as he is,</p> +<p class="i7">Why for no cause make sad thy face?--</p> +<p class="i6">Lo, I am old! Three kings, ere thee,</p> +<p class="i7">Have I seen reigning in this place.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But who, through all this length of time,</p> +<p class="i7">Could bear the burden of his years,</p> +<p class="i6">If he for strangers pained his heart</p> +<p class="i7">Not less than those who merit tears?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Fathers we must have, wife and child,</p> +<p class="i7">And grievous is the grief for these;</p> +<p class="i6">This pain alone, which must be borne,</p> +<p class="i7">Makes the head white, and bows the knees.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But other loads than this his own</p> +<p class="i7">One man is not well made to bear.</p> +<p class="i6">Besides, to each are his own friends,</p> +<p class="i7">To mourn with him, and show him care.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Look, this is but one single place,</p> +<p class="i7">Though it be great; all the earth round,</p> +<p class="i6">If a man bear to have it so,</p> +<p class="i7">Things which might vex him shall be found.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">All these have sorrow, and keep still,</p> +<p class="i7">Whilst other men make cheer, and sing,</p> +<p class="i6">Wilt thou have pity on all these?</p> +<p class="i7">No, nor on this dead dog, O King!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">THE KING</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">O Vizier, thou art old, I young!</p> +<p class="i7">Clear in these things I cannot see.</p> +<p class="i6">My head is burning, and a heat</p> +<p class="i7">Is in my skin which angers me.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">But hear ye this, ye sons of men!</p> +<p class="i7">They that bear rule, and are obeyed,</p> +<p class="i6">Unto a rule more strong than theirs</p> +<p class="i7">Are in their turn obedient made.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">In vain therefore, with wistful eyes</p> +<p class="i7">Gazing up hither, the poor man</p> +<p class="i6">Who loiters by the high-heaped booths,</p> +<p class="i7">Below there in the Registàn,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Says:--"Happy he, who lodges there!</p> +<p class="i7">With silken raiment, store of rice,</p> +<p class="i6">And for this drought, all kinds of fruits,</p> +<p class="i7">Grape-syrup, squares of colored ice,</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">With cherries served in drifts of snow."</p> +<p class="i7">In vain hath a king power to build</p> +<p class="i6">Houses, arcades, enameled mosques;</p> +<p class="i7">And to make orchard-closes, filled</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">With curious fruit-trees brought from far;</p> +<p class="i7">With cisterns for the winter rain;</p> +<p class="i6">And in the desert, spacious inns</p> +<p class="i7">In divers places--if that pain</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Is not more lightened, which he feels,</p> +<p class="i7">If his will be not satisfied;</p> +<p class="i6">And that it be not, from all time</p> +<p class="i7">The law is planted, to abide.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Thou wast a sinner, thou poor man!</p> +<p class="i7">Thou wast athirst, and didst not see</p> +<p class="i6">That, though we take what we desire,</p> +<p class="i7">We must not snatch it eagerly.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">And I have meat and drink at will,</p> +<p class="i7">And rooms of treasures, not a few,</p> +<p class="i6">But I am sick, nor heed I these;</p> +<p class="i7">And what I would, I cannot do.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Even the great honor which I have,</p> +<p class="i7">When I am dead, will soon grow still;</p> +<p class="i6">So have I neither joy nor fame--</p> +<p class="i7">But what I can do, that I will.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">I have a fretted brickwork tomb</p> +<p class="i7">Upon a hill on the right hand,</p> +<p class="i6">Hard by a close of apricots,</p> +<p class="i7">Upon the road of Samarcand;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Thither, O Vizier, will I bear</p> +<p class="i7">This man my pity could not save,</p> +<p class="i6">And plucking up the marble flags,</p> +<p class="i7">There lay his body in my grave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Bring water, nard, and linen rolls!</p> +<p class="i7">Wash off all blood, set smooth each limb!</p> +<p class="i6">Then say:--"He was not wholly vile,</p> +<p class="i7">Because a king shall bury him."</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="DOVER_BEACH"></a> <b>DOVER +BEACH</b></p> +<blockquote>The sea is calm to-night.<br> +The tide is full, the moon lies fair<br> +Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light<br> +Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,<br> +Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.<br> +<br> +Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!<br> + Only, from the long line of spray<br> +Where the sea meets the moon-blanched sand,<br> + Listen! you hear the grating roar<br> +Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,<br> + At their return, up the high strand,<br> + Begin and cease, and then again begin,<br> + With tremulous cadence slow, and bring<br> + The eternal note of sadness in.<br> +<br> + Sophocles long ago<br> + Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought<br> + Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow<br> + Of human misery; we<br> + Find also in the sound a thought,<br> + Hearing it by this distant northern sea.<br> +<br> + The sea of faith<br> +Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore<br> +Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.<br> + But now I only hear<br> + Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,<br> + Retreating, to the breath<br> +Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear<br> + And naked shingles of the world.<br> +<br> + Ah, love, let us be true<br> +To one another! for the world, which seems<br> + To lie before us like a land of dreams,<br> + So various, so beautiful, so new,<br> + Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,<br> + Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;<br> + And we are here as on a darkling plain<br> +Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,<br> + Where ignorant armies clash by +night.</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="SELF-DEPENDENCE"></a> +<b>SELF-DEPENDENCE</b></p> +<blockquote>Weary of myself, and sick of asking<br> + What I am, and what I ought to be,<br> +At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me<br> + Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.<br> +<br> +And a look of passionate desire<br> + O'er the sea and to the stars I send:<br> +"Ye who from my childhood up have calmed me,<br> + Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!<br> +<br> +"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters,<br> + On my heart your mighty charm renew;<br> +Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,<br> + Feel my soul becoming vast like you."<br> +<br> +From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,<br> + Over the lit sea's unquiet way,<br> +In the rustling night-air came the answer:--<br> + "Wouldst thou <i>be</i> as these are? <i>Live</i> as +they.<br> +<br> +"Unaffrighted by the silence round them,<br> + Undistracted by the sights they see,<br> +These demand not that the things without them<br> + Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.<br> +<br> +"And with joy the stars perform their shining,<br> + And the sea its long moon-silvered roll;<br> +For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting<br> + All the fever of some differing soul.<br> +<br> +"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful<br> + In what state God's other works may be,<br> +In their own tasks all their powers pouring,<br> + These attain the mighty life you see."<br> +<br> +O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,<br> + A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:--<br> +"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he<br> + Who finds himself, loses his misery!"</blockquote> +<br> +<p><a name="STANZAS_FROM_THE_GRANDE_CHARTREUSE"></a> <b>STANZAS +FROM THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE</b></p> +<blockquote>Oh, hide me in your gloom profound,<br> + Ye solemn seats of holy pain!<br> +Take me, cowled forms, and fence me round,<br> + Till I possess my soul again;<br> +Till free my thoughts before me roll,<br> +Not chafed by hourly false control!<br> +<br> +For the world cries your faith is now<br> + But a dead time's exploded dream;<br> +My melancholy, sciolists say,<br> + Is a passed mood, and outworn theme--<br> +As if the world had ever had<br> +A faith, or sciolists been sad!<br> +<br> +Ah, if it <i>be</i> passed, take away<br> + At least the restlessness, the pain!<br> +Be man henceforth no more a prey<br> + To these out-dated stings again!<br> +The nobleness of grief is gone--<br> +Ah, leave us not the fret alone!<br> +<br> +But--if you cannot give us ease--<br> + Last of the race of them who grieve,<br> +Here leave us to die out with these<br> + Last of the people who believe!<br> +Silent, while years engrave the brow;<br> +Silent--the best are silent now.<br> +<br> +Achilles ponders in his tent,<br> + The kings of modern thought are dumb;<br> +Silent they are, though not content,<br> + And wait to see the future come.<br> +They have the grief men had of yore,<br> +But they contend and cry no more.<br> +<br> +Our fathers watered with their tears<br> + This sea of time whereon we sail;<br> +Their voices were in all men's ears<br> + Who passed within their puissant hail.<br> +Still the same ocean round us raves,<br> +But we stand mute and watch the waves.<br> +<br> +For what availed it, all the noise<br> + And outcry of the former men?--<br> +Say, have their sons achieved more joys,<br> + Say, is life lighter now than then?<br> +The sufferers died, they left their pain--<br> +The pangs which tortured them remain.<br> +<br> +What helps it now that Byron bore,<br> + With haughty scorn which mocked the smart,<br> +Through Europe to the Ætolian shore<br> + The pageant of his bleeding heart?<br> +That thousands counted every groan,<br> +And Europe made his woe her own?<br> +<br> +What boots it, Shelley! that the breeze<br> + Carried thy lovely wail away,<br> +Musical through Italian trees<br> + Which fringe thy soft blue Spezzian bay?<br> +Inheritors of thy distress,<br> +Have restless hearts one throb the less?<br> +<br> +Or are we easier to have read,<br> + O Obermann! the sad, stern page,<br> +Which tells us how thou hidd'st thy head<br> + From the fierce tempest of thine age<br> +In the lone brakes of Fontainebleau,<br> +Or châlets near the Alpine snow?<br> +<br> +Ye slumber in your silent grave!--<br> + The world, which for an idle day<br> +Grace to your mood of sadness gave,<br> + Long since hath flung her weeds away.<br> +The eternal trifler breaks your spell;<br> +But we--we learnt your lore too well!<br> +<br> +Years hence, perhaps, may dawn an age,<br> + More fortunate, alas! than we,<br> +Which without hardness will be sage,<br> + And gay without frivolity.<br> +Sons of the world, oh, speed those years;<br> +But while we wait, allow our tears!</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="A_SUMMER_NIGHT"></a> <b>A SUMMER +NIGHT</b></p> +<blockquote> In the deserted, moon-blanched street,<br> + How lonely rings the echo of my feet!<br> + Those windows, which I gaze at, frown,<br> + Silent and white, unopening down,<br> + Repellent as the world,--but see,<br> + A break between the housetops shows<br> +The moon! and lost behind her, fading dim<br> + Into the dewy dark obscurity<br> + Down at the far horizon's rim,<br> + Doth a whole tract of heaven disclose!<br> +<br> + And to my mind the thought<br> + Is on a sudden +brought<br> + Of a past night, and a far different scene:<br> + Headlands stood out into the moonlit deep<br> + As clearly as at +noon;<br> + The spring-tide's brimming flow<br> + Heaved dazzlingly between;<br> + Houses, with long wide sweep,<br> + Girdled the glistening bay;<br> + Behind, through the soft air,<br> + The blue haze-cradled mountains spread away.<br> + That night was far more fair--<br> + But the same restless pacings to and fro,<br> + And the same vainly throbbing heart was there,<br> + And the same bright, calm moon.<br> +<br> + And the calm moonlight seems to say:--<br> +Hast thou then still the old unquiet breast,<br> + Which neither deadens into rest,<br> + Nor ever feels the fiery +glow<br> + That whirls the spirit from itself away,<br> + But fluctuates to and +fro,<br> + Never by passion quite possessed<br> + And never quite benumbed by the world's sway?--<br> + And I, I know not if to pray<br> + Still to be what I am, or yield, and be<br> + Like all the other men I see.<br> +<br> + For most men in a brazen prison live,<br> + Where, in the sun's hot +eye,<br> + With heads bent o'er their toil, they languidly<br> + Their lives to some unmeaning taskwork give,<br> + Dreaming of naught beyond their prison wall.<br> + And as, year +after year,<br> + Fresh +products of their barren labor fall<br> + From their +tired hands, and rest<br> + Never +yet comes more near,<br> + Gloom settles slowly down +over their breast.<br> + And +while they try to stem<br> +The waves of mournful thought by which they are prest,<br> + Death +in their prison reaches them,<br> + Unfreed, having seen nothing, still +unblest.<br> +<br> + +And the rest, a few,<br> + +Escape their prison and depart<br> + +On the wide ocean of life anew.<br> + There the freed +prisoner, where'er his heart<br> + Listeth +will sail;<br> + +Nor doth he know how there prevail,<br> + +Despotic on that sea.<br> + Trade-winds which cross +it from eternity:<br> + Awhile he holds some +false way, undebarred<br> + By +thwarting signs, and braves<br> + The freshening wind and +blackening waves.<br> + And then the tempest +strikes him; and between<br> + The +lightning bursts is seen<br> + Only +a driving wreck,<br> + And the pale master on +his spar-strewn deck<br> + With +anguished face and flying hair<br> + Grasping +the rudder hard,<br> + Still bent to make some +port he knows not where,<br> + Still standing for some +false, impossible shore.<br> + And +sterner comes the roar<br> + Of sea and wind, and +through the deepening gloom<br> + Fainter and fainter wreck +and helmsman loom,<br> + And he too disappears, +and comes no more.<br> +<br> + Is +there no life, but these alone?<br> + Madman +or slave, must man be one?<br> +<br> + Plainness and clearness +without shadow of stain!<br> + Clearness +divine!<br> + Ye heavens, whose pure +dark regions have no sign<br> + Of languor, though so +calm, and though so great<br> + Are yet +untroubled and unpassionate;<br> + Who, though so noble, +share in the world's toil,<br> + And, though so tasked, +keep free from dust and soil!<br> + I will not +say that your mild deeps retain<br> + A tinge, it +may be, of their silent pain<br> + Who have longed deeply +once, and longed in vain--<br> + But I will +rather say that you remain<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +A world above man's head, to let him see<br> + How boundless might his soul's horizons be,<br> + How vast, yet of what clear transparency!<br> + How it were good to live there, and breathe +free;<br> + How +fair a lot to fill<br> + Is +left to each man still!</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_BETTER_PART"></a> <b>THE BETTER +PART</b></p> +<blockquote>Long fed on boundless hopes, O race of man,<br> +How angrily thou spurn'st all simpler fare!<br> +"Christ," some one says, "was human as we are;<br> +No judge eyes us from Heaven, our sin to scan;<br> +We live no more when we have done our span."--<br> + "Well, then, for Christ," thou answerest, "who can +care?<br> + From sin, which Heaven records not, why forbear?<br> +Live we like brutes our life without a plan!"<br> +So answerest thou; but why not rather say,<br> + "Hath man no second life?--Pitch this one high!<br> + Sits there no judge in Heaven our sin to +see?--<br> +More strictly, then, the inward judge obey!<br> + Was Christ a man like us?--Ah! let us try<br> + If we then, too, can be such men as +he!"</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_LAST_WORD"></a> <b>THE LAST +WORD</b></p> +<blockquote>Creep into thy narrow bed,<br> +Creep, and let no more be said!<br> +Vain thy onset! all stands fast.<br> +Thou thyself must break at last.<br> +<br> +Let the long contention cease!<br> +Geese are swans, and swans are geese.<br> +Let them have it how they will!<br> +Thou art tired; best be still.<br> +<br> +They out-talked thee, hissed thee, tore thee?<br> +Better men fared thus before thee;<br> +Fired their ringing shot and passed,<br> +Hotly charged--and sank at last.<br> +<br> +Charge once more, then, and be dumb!<br> +Let the victors, when they come,<br> +When the forts of folly fall,<br> +Find thy body by the wall!</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_ARTHURIAN_LEGENDS"></a>THE ARTHURIAN LEGENDS</h2> +<h3>(Eighth to Twelfth Centuries)</h3> +<h3>BY RICHARD JONES</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-f.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>or nearly a thousand years, the Arthurian legends, which lie at +the basis of Tennyson's 'Idylls of the King,' have furnished +unlimited literary material, not to English poets alone, but to the +poets of all Christendom. These Celtic romances, having their +birthplace in Brittany or in Wales, had been growing and changing +for some centuries, before the fanciful 'Historia Britonum' of +Geoffrey of Monmouth flushed them with color and filled them with +new life. Through the version of the good Benedictine they soon +became a vehicle for the dissemination of Christian doctrine. By +the year 1200 they were the common property of Europe, influencing +profoundly the literature of the Middle Ages, and becoming the +source of a great stream of poetry that has flowed without +interruption down to our own day.</p> +<p>Sixty years after the 'Historia Britonum' appeared, and when the +English poet Layamon wrote his 'Brut' (A.D. 1205), which was a +translation of Wace, as Wace was a translation of Geoffrey, the +theme was engrossing the imagination of Europe. It had absorbed +into itself the elements of other cycles of legend, which had grown +up independently; some of these, in fact, having been at one time +of much greater prominence. Finally, so vast and so complicated did +the body of Arthurian legend become, that summaries of the +essential features were attempted. Such a summary was made in +French about 1270, by the Italian Rustighello of Pisa; in German, +about two centuries later, by Ulrich Füterer; and in English +by Sir Thomas Malory in his 'Morte d'Arthur,' finished "the ix. +yere of the reygne of kyng Edward the Fourth," and one of the first +books published in England by Caxton, "emprynted and fynysshed in +th'abbey Westmestre the last day of July, the yere of our Lord +MCCCCLXXXV." It is of interest to note, as an indication of the +popularity of the Arthurian legends, that Caxton printed the 'Morte +d'Arthur' eight years before he printed any portion of the English +Bible, and fifty-three years before the complete English Bible was +in print. He printed the 'Morte d'Arthur' in response to a general +"demaund"; for "many noble and dyvers gentylmen of thys royame of +England camen and demaunded me many and oftymes wherefore that I +have not do make and enprynte the noble hystorye of the saynt +greal, and of the moost renomed crysten kyng, fyrst and chyef of +the thre best crysten and worthy, kyng Arthur, whyche ought moost +to be remembred emonge us Englysshe men tofore al other crysten +kynges."</p> +<p>Nor did poetic treatment of the theme then cease. Dante, in the +'Divine Comedy,' speaks by name of Arthur, Guinevere, Tristan, and +Launcelot. In that touching interview in the second cycle of the +Inferno between the poet and Francesca da Rimini, which Carlyle has +called "a thing woven out of rainbows on a ground of eternal +black," Francesca replies to Dante, who was bent to know the primal +root whence her love for Paolo gat being:--</p> +<blockquote> + "One +day<br> +For our delight, we read of Launcelot,<br> +How him love thralled. Alone we were, and no<br> +Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading<br> +Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue<br> +Fled from our altered cheek. But at one point<br> +Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,<br> +The wished smile, rapturously kissed<br> +By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er<br> +From me shall separate, at once my lips<br> +All trembling kissed. The book and writer both<br> +Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that day<br> +We read no more."</blockquote> +<p>This poetic material was appropriated also by the countrymen of +Dante, Boiardo, Ariosto, and Tasso, by Hans Sachs in Germany, by +Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton in England. As Sir Walter Scott +has sung:--</p> +<blockquote>"The mightiest chiefs of British song<br> +Scorned not such legends to prolong."</blockquote> +<p>Roger Ascham, it is true, has, in his 'Scholemaster' (1570 +A.D.), broken a lance against this body of fiction. "In our +forefathers' tyme," wrote he, "whan Papistrie, as a standyng poole, +couered and ouerflowed all England, fewe bookes were read in our +tong, sauyng certaine bookes of Cheualrie, as they sayd, for +pastime and pleasure, which, as some say, were made in Monasteries, +by idle Monkes, or wanton Chanons; as one for example, 'Morte +Arthure': the whole pleasure of which booke standeth in two +speciall poyntes, in open mans slaughter, and bold bawdrye: in +which booke those be counted the noblest Knights, that do kill most +men without any quarrell, and commit foulest aduoulteries by +sutlest shiftes."</p> +<p>But Roger's characterization of "the whole pleasure of which +booke" was not just, nor did it destroy interest in the theme. "The +generall end of all the booke," said Spenser of the 'Faerie +Queene,' "is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and +gentle discipline;" and for this purpose he therefore "chose the +historye of King Arthure, as most fitte for the excellency of his +person, being made famous by many men's former workes, and also +furthest from the daunger of envie, and suspition of present +tyme."</p> +<p>The plots for Shakespeare's 'King Lear' and 'Cymbeline' came +from Geoffrey's 'Historia Britonum,' as did also the story of +'Gorboduc,' the first tragedy in the English language. Milton +intended at one time that the subject of the great poem for which +he was "pluming his wings" should be King Arthur, as may be seen, +in his 'Mansus' and 'Epitaphium Damonis.' Indeed, he did touch the +lyre upon this theme,--lightly, it is true, but firmly enough to +justify Swinburne's lines:--</p> +<blockquote>"Yet Milton's sacred feet have lingered there,<br> +His lips have made august the fabulous air,<br> +His hands have touched and left the wild weeds fair."</blockquote> +<p>But his duties as Latin Secretary to the Commonwealth diverted +him from poetry for many years, and when the Restoration gave him +leisure once more to court the Muse, he had come to doubt the +existence of the Celtic hero-king; for in 'Paradise Lost' (Book i., +line 579) he refers to</p> +<blockquote> + "what +resounds<br> +In fable or romance of Uther's son;"</blockquote> +<p>and in his 'History of Britain' (1670 A.D.) he says +explicitly:--"For who Arthur was, and whether ever any such reign'd +in Britan, hath bin doubted heertofore, and may again with good +reason."</p> +<p>Dryden, who composed the words of an opera on King Arthur, +meditated, according to Sir Walter Scott, a larger treatment of the +theme:--</p> +<blockquote>"And Dryden in immortal strain<br> +Had raised the Table Round again,<br> +But that a ribald King and Court<br> +Bade him toil on to make them sport."</blockquote> +<p>Sir Walter himself edited the old metrical romance of 'Sir +Tristram,' and where the manuscript was defective, composed a +portion after the manner of the original, the portion in which +occur the lines,</p> +<blockquote>"Mi schip do thou take,<br> + With godes that bethe new;<br> +Two seyles do thou make,<br> + Beth different in hewe:<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +"Ysoude of Britanye,<br> + With the white honde,<br> +The schip she can se,<br> + Seyling to londe;<br> +The white seyl tho marked sche.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +"Fairer ladye ere<br> + Did Britannye never spye,<br> +Swiche murning chere,<br> + Making on heighe;<br> +On Tristremes bere,<br> + Doun con she lye;<br> +Rise ogayn did sche nere,<br> + But thare con sche dye<br> + For woe;<br> + Swiche lovers als thei<br> +Never schal be moe."</blockquote> +<p>Of the poets of the present generation, Tennyson has treated the +Arthurian poetic heritage as a whole. Phases of the Arthurian theme +have been presented also by his contemporaries and successors at +home and abroad,--by William Wordsworth, Lord Lytton, Robert +Stephen Hawker, Matthew Arnold, William Morris, Algernon Charles +Swinburne, in England; Edgar Quinet in France; Wilhelm Hertz, L. +Schneegans, F. Roeber, in Germany; Richard Hovey in America. There +have been many other approved variations on Arthurian themes, such +as James Russell Lowell's 'Vision of Sir Launfal,' and Richard +Wagner's operas, 'Lohengrin,' 'Tristan and Isolde,' and 'Parsifal.' +Of still later versions, we may mention the 'King Arthur' of J. +Comyns Carr, which has been presented on the stage by Sir Henry +Irving; and 'Under King Constantine,' by Katrina Trask, whose hero +is the king whom tradition names as the successor of the heroic +Arthur, "Imperator, Dux Bellorum."</p> +<p>This poetic material is manifestly a living force in the +literature of the present day. And we may well remind ourselves of +the rule which should govern our verdict in regard to the new +treatments of the theme as they appear. This century-old +'Dichterstoff,' this poetic treasure-store through which speaks the +voice of the race, this great body of accumulated poetic material, +is a heritage; and it is evident that whoever attempts any phase of +this theme may not treat such subject-matter capriciously, nor +otherwise than in harmony with its inherent nature and spirit. It +is recognized that the stuff whereof great poetry is made is not +the arbitrary creation of the poet, and cannot be manufactured to +order. "Genuine poetic material," it has been said, "is handed down +in the imagination of man from generation to generation, changing +its spirit according to the spirit of each age, and reaching its +full development only when in the course of time the favorable +conditions coincide." Inasmuch as the subject-matter of the +Arthurian legends is not the creation of a single poet, nor even of +many poets, but is in fact the creation of the people,--indeed, of +many peoples widely separated in time and space, and is thus in a +sense the voice of the race,--it resembles in this respect the +Faust legends, which are the basis of Goethe's world-poem; or the +mediæval visions of a future state, which found their supreme +and final expression in Dante's 'Divina Commedia,' which sums up +within itself the art, the religion, the politics, the philosophy, +and the view of life of the Middle Ages.</p> +<p>Whether the Arthurian legends as a whole have found their final +and adequate expression in Tennyson's 'Idylls of the King,' or +whether it was already too late, when the Laureate wrote, to create +from primitive ideas so simple a poem of the first rank, is not +within the province of this essay to discuss. But manifestly, any +final judgment in regard to the treatment of this theme as a whole, +or any phase of the theme, is inadequate which leaves out of +consideration the history of the subject-matter, and its treatment +by other poets; which, in short, ignores its possibilities and its +significance. With respect to the origin and the early history of +the Arthurian legend, much remains to be established. Whether its +original home was in Wales, or among the neighboring Celts across +the sea in Brittany, whither many of the Celts of Britain fled +after the Anglo-Saxon invasion of their island home, no one knows. +But to some extent, at least, the legend was common to both sides +of the Channel when Geoffrey wrote his book, about 1145. As a +matter of course, this King Arthur, the ideal hero of later ages, +was a less commanding personage in the early forms of the legend +than when it had acquired its splendid distinction by borrowing and +assimilating other mythical tales.</p> +<p>It appears that five great cycles of legend,--(1) the Arthur, +Guinevere, and Merlin cycle, (2) the Round Table cycle, (3) the +Holy Grail cycle, (4) the Launcelot cycle, (5) the Tristan +cycle,--which at first developed independently, were, in the latter +half of the twelfth century, merged together into a body of legend +whose bond of unity was the idealized Celtic hero, King Arthur.</p> +<br> +<a name="illus0890.jpg"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0890i.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""></p> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0890.jpg" width="45%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>This blameless knight, whose transfigured memory has been thus +transmitted to us, was probably a leader of the Celtic tribes of +England in their struggles with the Saxon invaders. His victory at +Mount Badon, described by Sir Launcelot to the household at +Astolat,--</p> +<blockquote>"Dull days were those, till our good Arthur broke<br> +The pagan yet once more on Badon Hill,"--</blockquote> +<p>this victory is mentioned by Gildas, who wrote in the sixth +century. Gildas, however, though he mentions the occasion, does not +give the name of the leader. But Nennius, who wrote in the latter +part of the eighth century, or early in the ninth, makes Arthur the +chieftain, and adds an account of his great personal prowess. Thus +the Arthur legend has already begun to grow. For the desperate +struggle with the Saxons was vain. As the highly gifted, +imaginative Celt saw his people overwhelmed by the kinsmen of the +conquerors of Rome, he found solace in song for the hard facts of +life. In the fields of imagination he won the victories denied him +on the field of battle, and he clustered these triumphs against the +enemies of his race about the name and the person of the +magnanimous Arthur. When the descendants of the Saxons were in +their turn overcome by Norman conquerors, the heart of the Celtic +world was profoundly stirred. Ancient memories awoke, and, yearning +for the restoration of British greatness, men rehearsed the deeds +of him who had been king, and of whom it was prophesied that he +should be king hereafter. At this moment of newly awakened hope, +Geoffrey's 'Historia' appeared. His book was not in reality a +history. Possibly it was not even very largely founded on existing +legends. But in any case the chronicle of Geoffrey was a work of +genius and of imagination. "The figure of Arthur," says Ten Brink, +"now stood forth in brilliant light, a chivalrous king and hero, +endowed and guarded by supernatural powers, surrounded by brave +warriors and a splendid court, a man of marvelous life and a tragic +death."</p> +<p>Geoffrey's book was immediately translated into French by Robert +Wace, who incorporated with the legend of Arthur the Round Table +legend. In his 'Brut,' the English poet-priest Layamon reproduced +this feature of the legend with additional details. His chronicle +is largely a free translation of the 'Brut d'Engleterre' of Wace, +earlier known as 'Geste des Bretons.' Thus as Wace had reproduced +Geoffrey with additions and modifications, Layamon reproduced Wace. +So the story grew. In the mean time, other poets in other lands had +taken up the theme, connecting with it other cycles of legend +already in existence. In 1205, when Layamon wrote his 'Brut,' +unnumbered versions of the history of King Arthur, with which had +been woven the legend of the Holy Grail, had already appeared among +the principal nations of Europe. Of the early Arthurian poets, two +of the more illustrious and important are Chrestien de Troyes, in +France, of highest poetic repute, who opened the way for Tennyson, +and Wolfram von Eschenbach, in Germany, with his 'Parzival,' later +the theme of Wagner's greatest opera. The names of Robert de Borron +in France, Walter Map in England, and Heinrich von dem Türlin +in Germany, may also be mentioned.</p> +<p>In divers lands, innumerable poets with diverse tastes set +themselves to make new versions of the legend. Characteristics of +the Arthurian tale were grafted upon an entirely different stock, +as was done by Boiardo in Italy, making confusion worse confounded +to the modern Arthurian scholar. Boiardo expressly says in the +'Orlando Innamorato' that his intention is to graft the +characteristics of the Arthurian cycle upon the Carlovingian French +national epic stock. He wished to please the courts, whose ideal +was not the paladins, but Arthur's knights. The "peers" of the +Charlemagne legend are thus transformed into knights-errant, who +fight for ladies and for honor. The result of this interpenetration +of the two cycles is a splendid world of love and <i>cortesia</i>, +whose constituent elements it defies the Arthurian scholar to +trace. Truly, as Dr. Sommer has said in his erudite edition of +Malory's 'La Morte d'Arthur.' "The origin and relationship to one +another of these branches of romance, whether in prose or in verse, +are involved in great obscurity." He adds that it would almost seem +as though several generations of scholars were required for the +gigantic task of finding a sure pathway through this intricate +maze. And M. Gaston Paris, one of the foremost of living Arthurian +scholars, has written in his 'Romania': "Some time ago I undertook +a methodical exploration in the grand poetical domain which is +called the cycle of the Round Table, the cycle of Arthur, or the +Breton cycle. I advance, groping along, and very often retracing my +steps twenty times over, I become aware that I am lost in a +pathless maze."</p> +<p>There is a question, moreover, whether Geoffrey's book is based +mainly upon inherited poetical material, or is largely the product +of Geoffrey's individual imagination. The elder Paris, M. Paulin +Paris, inclined to the view that Nennius, with hints from local +tales, supplied all the bases that Geoffrey had. But his son, +Professor Gaston Paris, in his 'Littérature Française +au Moyen Age,' emphasizes the importance of the "Celtic" +contribution, as does also Mr. Alfred Nutt in his 'Studies in the +Arthurian Legend.' The former view emphasizes the individual +importance of Geoffrey; the latter view places the emphasis on the +legendary heritage. Referring to this so-called national poetry, +Ten Brink says:--</p> +<blockquote>"But herein lies the essential difference between that +age and our own: the result of poetical activity was not the +property and not the production of a single person, but of the +community. The work of the individual singer endured only as long +as its delivery lasted. He gained personal distinction only as a +virtuoso. The permanent elements of what he presented, the +material, the ideas, even the style and metre, already existed. The +work of the singer was only a ripple in the stream of national +poetry. Who can say how much the individual contributed to it, or +where in his poetical recitation ¸memory ceased and creative +impulse began! In any case the work of the individual lived on only +as the ideal possession of the aggregate body of the people, and it +soon lost the stamp of originality."</blockquote> +<p>When Geoffrey wrote, this period of national poetry was drawing +to a close; but it was not yet closed. Alfred Nutt, in his 'Studies +in the Legend of the Holy Grail,' speaking of Wolfram von +Eschenbach, who wrote his 'Parzival' about the time that the +'Nibelungenlied' was given its present form (<i>i.e.,</i> about a +half-century after Geoffrey), says:--"Compared with the unknown +poets who gave their present shape to the 'Nibelungenlied' or to +the 'Chanson de Roland,' he is an individual writer; but he is far +from deserving this epithet even in the sense that Chaucer deserves +it." Professor Rhys says, in his 'Studies in the Arthurian +Legend':--"Leaving aside for a while the man Arthur, and assuming +the existence of a god of that name, let us see what could be made +of him. Mythologically speaking, he would probably have to be +regarded as a Culture Hero," etc.</p> +<p>To summarize this discussion of the difficulties of the theme, +there are now existing, scattered throughout the libraries and the +monasteries of Europe, unnumbered versions of the Arthurian +legends. Some of these are early versions, some are late, and some +are intermediate. What is the relation of all these versions to one +another? Which are the oldest, and which are copies, and of what +versions are they copies? What is the land of their origin, and +what is the significance of their symbolism? These problems, +weighty in tracing the growth of mediæval +ideals,--<i>i.e.,</i> in tracing the development of the realities +of the present from the ideals of the past,--are still under +investigation by the specialists. The study of the Arthurian +legends is in itself a distinct branch of learning, which demands +the lifelong labors of scholarly devotees.</p> +<p>There now remains to consider the extraordinary spread of the +legend in the closing decades of the twelfth century and in the +century following. Though Tennyson has worthily celebrated as the +morning star of English song--</p> +<blockquote>"Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath<br> + Preluded those melodious bursts that fill<br> +The spacious times of great Elizabeth<br> + With sounds that echo still."</blockquote> +<p>yet the centuries before Chaucer, far from being barren of +literature, were periods of rich poetical activity both in England +and on the Continent. Eleanor of Aquitaine, formerly Queen of +France,--who had herself gone on a crusade to the Holy Land, and +who, on returning, married in 1152 Henry of Anjou, who became in +1155 Henry II. of England,--was an ardent patroness of the art of +poetry, and personally aroused the zeal of poets. The famous +troubadour Bernard de Ventadorn--"with whom," says Ten Brink, "the +Provençal art-poesy entered upon the period of its +florescence"--followed her to England, and addressed to her his +impassioned verse. Wace, the Norman-French <i>trouvere</i>, +dedicated to her his 'Brut.' The ruling classes of England at this +time were truly cosmopolitan, familiar with the poetic material of +many lands. Jusserand, in his 'English Novel in the Time of +Shakespeare,' discussing a poem of the following century written in +French by a Norman monk of Westminster and dedicated to Eleanor of +Provence, wife of Henry III., says:--"Rarely was the like seen in +any literature: here is a poem dedicated to a Frenchwoman by a +Norman of England, which begins with the praise of a Briton, a +Saxon, and a Dane."</p> +<p>But the ruling classes of England were not the only +cosmopolitans, nor the only possessors of fresh poetic material. +Throughout Europe in general, the conditions were favorable for +poetic production. The Crusades had brought home a larger knowledge +of the world, and the stimulus of new experiences. Western princes +returned with princesses of the East as their brides, and these +were accompanied by splendid trains, including minstrels and poets. +Thus Europe gathered in new poetic material, which stimulated and +developed the poetical activity of the age. Furthermore, the +Crusades had aroused an intense idealism, which, as always, +demanded and found poetic expression. The dominant idea pervading +the earlier forms of the Charlemagne stories, the unswerving +loyalty due from a vassal to his lord,--that is, the feudal view of +life,--no longer found an echo in the hearts of men. The time was +therefore propitious for the development of a new cycle of +legend.</p> +<p>Though by the middle of the twelfth century the Arthurian legend +had been long in existence, and King Arthur had of late been +glorified by Geoffrey's book, the legend was not yet supreme in +popular interest. It became so through its association, a few years +later, with the legend of the Holy Grail,--the San Graal, the holy +vessel which received at the Cross the blood of Christ, which was +now become a symbol of the Divine Presence. This holy vessel had +been brought by Joseph of Arimathea from Palestine to Britain, but +was now, alas, vanished quite from the sight of man. It was the +holy quest for this sacred vessel, to which the knights of the +Round Table now bound themselves,--this "search for the +supernatural," this "struggle for the spiritual," this blending of +the spirit of Christianity with that of chivalry,--which +immediately transformed the Arthurian legend, and gave to its +heroes immortality. At once a new spirit breathes in the old +legend. In a few years it is become a mystical, symbolical, +anagogical tale, inculcating one of the profoundest dogmas of the +Holy Catholic Church, a bearer of a Christian doctrine engrossing +the thought of the Christian world. And inasmuch as the transformed +Arthurian legend now taught by implication the doctrine of the +Divine Presence, its spread was in every way furthered by the great +power of the Church, whose spiritual rulers made the minstrel +doubly welcome when celebrating this theme.</p> +<p>For there was heresy to be combated; viz., the heresy of the +scholastic theologian Berengar of Tours, who had attacked the +doctrine of the transubstantiation of the bread and the wine of the +Eucharist into the body and blood of Christ. Lanfranc, Archbishop +of Canterbury, one of the most brilliant of the Middle Age +theologians, felt impelled to reply to Berengar, who had been his +personal friend; and he did so in the 'Liber Scintillarum,' which +was a vigorous, indeed a violent, defense of the doctrine denied by +Berengar. Berengar died in 1088; but he left a considerable body of +followers. The heretics were anathematized by the Second Lateran +Ecumenical Council held in Rome in 1139. Again, in 1215, the Fourth +Lateran Council declared transubstantiation to be an article of +faith, and in 1264 a special holy day, Corpus Christi,--viz., the +first Thursday after Trinity Sunday,--was set apart to give an +annual public manifestation of the belief of the Church in the +doctrine of the Eucharist.</p> +<p>But when the Fourth Lateran Ecumenical Council met in 1215, the +transformation of the Arthurian legend by means of its association +with the legend of the Holy Grail was already complete, and the +transformed legend, now become a defender of the faith, was +engrossing the imagination of Europe. The subsequent influence of +the legend was doubtless to some extent associated with the +discussions which continually came up anew respecting the meaning +of the doctrine of the Eucharist; for it was not until the Council +of Trent (1545-63) that the doctrine was finally and +authoritatively defined. In the mean time there was interminable +discussion respecting the nature of this "real presence," +respecting <i>tran</i>substantiation and <i>con</i>substantiation +and impanation, respecting the actual presence of the body and +blood of Christ under the <i>appearance</i> of the bread and wine, +or the presence of the body and blood <i>together with</i> the +bread and wine. The professor of philosophy in the University of +Oxford, who passes daily through Logic Lane, has said that there +the followers of Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas were wont to come +to blows in the eagerness of their discussion respecting the proper +definition of the doctrine. Nor was the doctrine without interest +to the Reformers. Luther and Zwingli held opposing views, and +Calvin was involved in a long dispute concerning the doctrine, +which resulted in the division of the evangelical body into the two +parties of the Lutherans and the Reformed. Doubtless the connection +between the Arthurian legend and the doctrine of the Divine +Presence was not without influence on the unparalleled spread of +the legend in the closing decades of the twelfth century, and on +its prominence in the centuries following.</p> +<p>A suggestion has already been given of the vast development of +the Arthurian legends during the thirteenth, fourteenth, and +fifteenth centuries, and of the importance of the labors of the +specialists, who are endeavoring to fix a date for these versions +in order to infer therefrom the spiritual ideals of the people +among whom they arose. To perceive clearly to what extent ideals do +change, it is but necessary to compare various versions of the same +incident as given in various periods of time. To go no farther back +than Malory, for example, we observe a signal difference between +his treatment of the sin of Guinevere and Launcelot, and the +treatment of the theme by Tennyson. Malory's Arthur is not so much +wounded by the treachery of Launcelot, of whose relations to +Guinevere he had long been aware, as he is angered at Sir Modred +for making public those disclosures which made it necessary for him +and Sir Launcelot to "bee at debate." "Ah! Agravaine, Agravaine," +cries the King, "Jesu forgive it thy soule! for thine evill will +that thou and thy brother Sir Modred had unto Sir Launcelot hath +caused all this sorrow.... Wit you well my heart was never so +heavie as it is now, and much more I am sorrier for my good knights +losse than for the losse of my queene, for queenes might I have +enough, but such a fellowship of good knightes shall never bee +together in no company." But to the great Poet Laureate, who voices +the modern ideal, a true marriage is the crown of life. To love one +maiden only, to cleave to her and worship her by years of noblest +deeds, to be joined with her and to live together as one life, and, +reigning with one will in all things, to have power on this dead +world to make it live,--this was the high ideal of the blameless +King.</p> +<blockquote>"Too wholly true to dream untruth in +thee."</blockquote> +<p>And his farewell from her who had not made his life so sweet +that he should greatly care to live,--</p> +<blockquote>"Lo! I forgive thee, as Eternal God<br> +Forgives: ...<br> +And so thou lean on our fair father Christ,<br> +Hereafter in that world where all are pure<br> +We two may meet before high God, and thou<br> +Wilt spring to me, and claim me thine,"--</blockquote> +<p>this is altogether one of the noblest passages in modern +verse.</p> +<p>A comparison of the various modern treatments of the Tristram +theme, as given by Tennyson, Richard Wagner, F. Roeber, L. +Schneegans, Matthew Arnold, Algernon Charles Swinburne, F. Millard, +touching also on the Tristan of Hans Sachs, and the Tristram who, +because he is true to love, is the darling of the old romances, and +is there--notwithstanding that his love is the wedded wife of +another--always represented as the strong and beautiful knight, the +flower of courtesy, a model to youth,--such a comparison would +reveal striking differences between mediæval and modern +ideals.</p> +<p>In making the comparison, however, care must be exercised to +select the modern treatment of the theme which represents correctly +the modern ideal. The Middle Age romances, sung by wandering +minstrels, before the invention of the printing press, doubtless +expressed the ideals of the age in which they were produced more +infallibly than does the possibly individualistic conception of the +modern poet; for, of the earlier forms of the romance, only those +which found general favor were likely to be preserved and handed +down. This inference may be safely made because of the method of +the dissemination of the poems before the art of printing was +known. It is true that copies of them were carried in manuscript +from country to country; but the more important means of +dissemination were the minstrels, who passed from court to court +and land to land, singing the songs which they had made or heard. +In that age there was little thought of literary proprietorship. +The poem belonged to him who could recall it. And as each minstrel +felt free to adopt whatever poem he found or heard that pleased +him, so he felt free also to modify the incidents thereof, guided +only by his experience as to what pleased his hearers. Hence the +countless variations in the treatment of the theme, and the value +of the conclusions that may be drawn as to the moral sentiment of +an age, the quality of whose moral judgments is indicated by the +prevailing tone of the songs which persisted because they pleased. +Unconformable variations, which express the view of an individual +rather than the view of a people, may have come down to us in an +accidentally preserved manuscript; but the songs which were sung by +the poets of all lands give expression to the view of life of the +age, and reveal the morals and the ideals of nations, whose history +in this respect may otherwise be lost to us. What some of these +ideals were, as revealed by this rich store of poetic material +which grew up about the chivalrous and spiritual ideals of the +Middle Ages, and what the corresponding modern ideals are,--what, +in brief, some of the hitherto dimly discerned ethical movements of +the past seven hundred years have in reality been, and whither they +seem to be tending,--surely, clear knowledge on these themes is an +end worthy the supreme endeavor of finished scholars, whose +training has made them expert in interpreting the aspirations of +each age, and in tracing the evolution of the ideals of the past +into the realities of the present. And though, as M. Gaston Paris +has said, the path of the Arthurian scholar seems at times to be an +inextricable maze, yet the value of the results already achieved, +and the possibility of still greater results, will doubtless prove +a sufficient encouragement to the several generations of scholars +which, as Dr. Sommer suggests, are needed for the gigantic +task.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-446.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name= +"FROM_GEOFFREY_OF_MONMOUTHS_HISTORIA_BRITONUM"></a>FROM GEOFFREY +OF MONMOUTH'S 'HISTORIA BRITONUM'</h2> +<h3>ARTHUR SUCCEEDS UTHER, HIS FATHER, IN THE KINGDOM OF BRITAIN, +AND BESIEGES COLGRIN</h3> +<br> +<p>Uther Pendragon being dead, the nobility from several provinces +assembled together at Silchester, and proposed to Dubricius, +Archbishop of Legions, that he should consecrate Arthur, Uther's +son, to be their king. For they were now in great straits, because, +upon hearing of the king's death, the Saxons had invited over their +countrymen from Germany, and were attempting, under the command of +Colgrin, to exterminate the whole British race.... Dubricius, +therefore, grieving for the calamities of his country, in +conjunction with the other bishops set the crown upon Arthur's +head. Arthur was then only fifteen years old, but a youth of such +unparalleled courage and generosity, joined with that sweetness of +temper and innate goodness, as gained for him universal love. When +his coronation was over, he, according to usual custom, showed his +bounty and munificence to the people. And such a number of soldiers +flocked to him upon it that his treasury was not able to answer +that vast expense. But such a spirit of generosity, joined with +valor, can never long want means to support itself. Arthur, +therefore, the better to keep up his munificence, resolved to make +use of his courage, and to fall upon the Saxons, that he might +enrich his followers with their wealth. To this he was also moved +by the justice of the cause, since the entire monarchy of Britain +belonged to him by hereditary right. Hereupon assembling the youth +under his command, he marched to York, of which, when Colgrin had +intelligence, he met with a very great army, composed of Saxons, +Scots, and Picts, by the river Duglas, where a battle happened, +with the loss of the greater part of both armies. Notwithstanding, +the victory fell to Arthur, who pursued Colgrin to York, and there +besieged him.</p> +<br> +<h3>DUBRICIUS'S SPEECH AGAINST THE TREACHEROUS SAXONS, OF WHOM +ARTHUR SLAYS MANY IN BATTLE</h3> +<br> +<p>When he had done speaking, St. Dubricius, Archbishop of Legions, +going to the top of a hill, cried out with a loud voice, "You that +have the honor to profess the Christian faith, keep fixed in your +minds the love which you owe to your country and fellow subjects, +whose sufferings by the treachery of the Pagans will be an +everlasting reproach to you if you do not courageously defend them. +It is your country which you fight for, and for which you should, +when required, voluntarily suffer death; for that itself is victory +and the cure of the soul. For he that shall die for his brethren, +offers himself a living sacrifice to God, and has Christ for his +example, who condescended to lay down his life for his brethren. +If, therefore, any of you shall be killed in this war, that death +itself, which is suffered in so glorious a cause, shall be to him +for penance and absolution of all his sins." At these words, all of +them, encouraged with the benediction of the holy prelate, +instantly armed themselves.... Upon [Arthur's shield] the picture +of the blessed Mary, Mother of God, was painted, in order to put +him frequently in mind of her.... In this manner was a great part +of that day also spent; whereupon Arthur, provoked to see the +little advantage he had yet gained, and that victory still +continued in suspense, drew out his Caliburn [Excalibur, Tennyson], +and calling upon the name of the blessed Virgin, rushed forward +with great fury into the thickest of the enemy's ranks; of whom +(such was the merit of his prayers) not one escaped alive that felt +the fury of his sword; neither did he give over the fury of his +assault until he had, with his Caliburn alone, killed four hundred +and seventy men. The Britons, seeing this, followed their leader in +great multitudes, and made slaughter on all sides; so that Colgrin +and Baldulph, his brother, and many thousands more, fell before +them. But Cheldric, in his imminent danger of his men, betook +himself to flight.</p> +<br> +<h3>ARTHUR INCREASES HIS DOMINIONS</h3> +<p>After this, having invited over to him all persons whatsoever +that were famous for valor in foreign nations, he began to augment +the number of his domestics, and introduced such politeness into +his court as people of the remotest countries thought worthy of +their imitation. So that there was not a nobleman who thought +himself of any consideration unless his clothes and arms were made +in the same fashion as those of Arthur's knights. At length the +fame of his munificence and valor spreading over the whole world, +he became a terror to the kings of other countries, who grievously +feared the loss of their dominions if he should make any attempt +upon them.... Arthur formed a design for the conquest of all +Europe.... At the end of nine years, in which time all the parts of +Gaul were entirely reduced, Arthur returned back to Paris, where he +kept his court, and calling an assembly of the clergy and people, +established peace and the just administration of the laws in that +kingdom. Then he bestowed Neustria, now called Normandy, upon +Bedoer, his butler; the province of Andegavia upon Caius, his +sewer; and several other provinces upon his great men that attended +him. Thus, having settled the peace of the cities and the countries +there, he returned back in the beginning of spring to Britain.</p> +<br> +<h3>ARTHUR HOLDS A SOLEMN FESTIVAL</h3> +<p>Upon the approach of the feast of Pentecost, Arthur, the better +to demonstrate his joy after such triumphant success, and for the +more solemn observation of that festival, and reconciling the minds +of the princes that were now subject to him, resolved, during that +season, to hold a magnificent court, to place the crown upon his +head, and to invite all the kings and dukes under his subjection to +the solemnity. And when he had communicated his design to his +familiar friends, he pitched upon the city of Legions as a proper +place for his purpose. For besides its great wealth above the other +cities, its situation, which was in Glamorganshire, upon the River +Uske, near the Severn Sea, was most pleasant and fit for so great a +solemnity; for on one side it was washed by that noble river, so +that the kings and princes from the countries beyond the seas might +have the convenience of sailing up to it. On the other side, the +beauty of the meadows and groves, and magnificence of the royal +palaces, with lofty, gilded roofs that adorned it, made it even +rival the grandeur of Rome. It was also famous for two churches: +whereof one was built in honor of the martyr Julius, and adorned +with a choir of virgins, who had devoted themselves wholly to the +service of God; but the other, which was founded in memory of St. +Aaron, his companion, and maintained a convent of canons, was the +third metropolitan church of Britain. Besides, there was a college +of two hundred philosophers, who, being learned in astronomy and +the other arts, were diligent in observing the courses of the +stars, and gave Arthur true predictions of the events that would +happen at that time. In this place, therefore, which afforded such +delights, were preparations made for the ensuing festival. +Ambassadors were sent into several kingdoms to invite to court the +princes both of Gaul and all the adjacent islands ... who came with +such a train of mules, horses, and rich furniture as it is +difficult to describe. Besides these, there remained no prince of +any consideration on this side of Spain, who came not upon this +invitation. And no wonder, when Arthur's munificence, which was +celebrated over the whole world, made him beloved by all +people.</p> +<p>When all these were assembled together in the city, upon the day +of the solemnity, the archbishops were conducted to the palace, in +order to place the crown upon the king's head. Therefore Dubricius, +inasmuch as the court was kept in his diocese, made himself ready +to celebrate the office, and undertook the ordering of whatever +related to it. As soon as the king was invested with his royal +habiliments, he was conducted in great pomp to the metropolitan +church, supported on each side by two archbishops, and having four +kings, viz., of Albania, Cornwall, Demetia, and Venedotia, whose +right it was, bearing four golden swords before him. He was also +attended with a concert of all sorts of music, which made most +excellent harmony. On another part was the queen, dressed out in +her richest ornaments, conducted by the archbishops and bishops to +the Temple of Virgins; the four queens also of the kings last +mentioned, bearing before her four white doves, according to +ancient custom; and after her there followed a retinue of women, +making all imaginable demonstrations of joy. When the whole +procession was ended, so transporting was the harmony of the +musical instruments and voices, whereof there was a vast variety in +both churches, that the knights who attended were in doubt which to +prefer, and therefore crowded from the one to the other by turns, +and were far from being tired with the solemnity, though the whole +day had been spent in it. At last, when divine service was over at +both churches, the king and queen put off their crowns, and putting +on their lighter ornaments, went to the banquet, he to one palace +with the men, she to another with the women. For the Britons still +observed the ancient custom of Troy, by which the men and women +used to celebrate their festivals apart. When they had all taken +their seats according to precedence, Caius, the sewer, in rich +robes of ermine, with a thousand young noblemen, all in like manner +clothed with ermine, served up the dishes. From another part, +Bedoer, the butler, was followed with the same number of +attendants, in various habits, who waited with all kinds of cups +and drinking vessels. In the queen's palace were innumerable +waiters, dressed with variety of ornaments, all performing their +respective offices; which, if I should describe particularly, I +should draw out the history to a tedious length. For at that time +Britain had arrived at such a pitch of grandeur, that in abundance +of riches, luxury of ornaments, and politeness of inhabitants, it +far surpassed all other kingdoms. The knights in it that were +famous for feats of chivalry wore their clothes and arms all of the +same color and fashion: and the women also, no less celebrated for +their wit, wore all the same kind of apparel; and esteemed none +worthy of their love but such as had given a proof of their valor +in three several battles. Thus was the valor of the men an +encouragement for the women's chastity, and the love of the women a +spur to the soldiers' bravery.</p> +<br> +<h3>AFTER A VARIETY OF SPORTS AT THE CORONATION, ARTHUR AMPLY +REWARDS HIS SERVANTS</h3> +<p>As soon as the banquets were over they went into the fields +without the city to divert themselves with various sports. The +military men composed a kind of diversion in imitation of a fight +on horseback; and the ladies, placed on the top of the walls as +spectators, in a sportive manner darted their amorous glances at +the courtiers, the more to encourage them. Others spent the +remainder of the day in other diversions, such as shooting with +bows and arrows, tossing the pike, casting of heavy stones and +rocks, playing at dice and the like, and all these inoffensively +and without quarreling. Whoever gained the victory in any of these +sports was awarded with a rich prize by Arthur. In this manner were +the first three days spent; and on the fourth, all who, upon +account of their titles, bore any kind of office at this solemnity, +were called together to receive honors and preferments in reward of +their services, and to fill up the vacancies in the governments of +cities and castles, archbishoprics, bishoprics, abbeys, and other +hosts of honor.</p> +<br> +<h3>ARTHUR COMMITS TO HIS NEPHEW MODRED THE GOVERNMENT OF BRITAIN, +AND ENGAGES IN A WAR WITH ROME</h3> +<p>At the beginning of the following summer, as he was on his march +toward Rome and was beginning to pass the Alps, he had news brought +him that his nephew Modred, to whose care he had intrusted Britain, +had, by tyrannical and treasonable practices, set the crown upon +his own head. [Book xi., Chapters i. and ii.] His [Modred's] whole +army, taking Pagans and Christians together, amounted to eighty +thousand men, with the help of whom he met Arthur just after his +landing at the port of Rutupi, and joining battle with him, made a +very great slaughter of his men.... After they had at last, with +much difficulty, got ashore, they paid back the slaughter, and put +Modred and his army to flight. For by long practice in war they had +learned an excellent way of ordering their forces; which was so +managed that while their foot were employed either in an assault or +upon the defensive, the horse would come in at full speed +obliquely, break through the enemy's ranks, and so force them to +flee. Nevertheless, this perjured usurper got his forces together +again, and the night following entered Winchester. As soon as Queen +Guanhumara [Guinevere] heard this, she immediately, despairing of +success, fled from York to the City of Legions, where she resolved +to lead a chaste life among the nuns in the church of Julius the +Martyr, and entered herself one of their order....</p> +<p>In the battle that followed thereupon, great numbers lost their +lives on both sides.... In this assault fell the wicked traitor +himself, and many thousands with him. But notwithstanding the loss +of him, the rest did not flee, but running together from all parts +of the field, maintained their ground with undaunted courage. The +fight now grew more furious than ever, and proved fatal to almost +all the commanders and their forces.... And even the renowned King +Arthur himself was mortally wounded; and being carried thence to +the isle of Avallon to be cured of his wounds, he gave up the crown +of Britain to his kinsman Constantine, the son of Cador, Duke of +Cornwall, in the five hundred and forty-second year of our Lord's +incarnation.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_HOLY_GRAIL"></a>THE HOLY GRAIL</h2> +<center>From Malory's 'Morte d'Arthur'</center> +<br> +<p>"Faire knight," said the King, "what is your name? I require you +of your knighthood to tell me."</p> +<p>"Sir," said Sir Launcelot, "wit ye well, my name is Sir +Launcelot du Lake."</p> +<p>"And my name is Sir Pelles, king of the forrain countrey, and +nigh cousin unto Joseph of Arithmy" [Arimathea].</p> +<p>Then either of them made much of the other, and so they went +into the castle for to take their repast. And anon there came in a +dove at the window, and in her bill there seemed a little censer of +gold, and therewithal there was such a savor as though all the +spicery of the world had been there; and forthwithal there was upon +the table all manner of meates and drinkes that they could thinke +upon. So there came a damosell, passing faire and young, and she +beare a vessell of gold between her hands, and thereto the king +kneeled devoutly and said his prayers, and so did all that were +there.</p> +<p>"O Jesu," said Sir Launcelot, "what may this meane?"</p> +<p>"This is," said King Pelles, "the richest thing that any man +hath living; and when this thing goeth about, the round table shall +bee broken. And wit ye well," said King Pelles, "that this is the +holy sanegreall which ye have heere seene."</p> +<p>So King Pelles and Sir Launcelot led their lives the most part +of that day.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="PETER_CHRISTEN_ASBJORNSEN"></a>PETER CHRISTEN +ASBJÖRNSEN</h2> +<h3>(1812-1885)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>sbjörnsen was born January 15th, 1812, at Christiania, +Norway. He entered the University in 1833, but was presently +obliged to take the position of tutor with a family in Romerike. +Four years later he came back to the University, where he studied +medicine, but also and particularly zoölogy and botany, +subjects which he subsequently taught in various schools. During +his life among the country people he had begun to collect +folk-tales and legends, and afterward, on long foot-tours +undertaken in the pursuit of his favorite studies, he added to this +store. In co-operation with his lifelong friend, Jörgen Moe, +subsequently Bishop of Christiansand, he published in 1838 a first +collection of folk-stories. In later years his study of folk-lore +went on side by side with his study of zoölogy. At various +times, from 1846 to 1853, he received stipends from the Christiania +University to enable him to pursue zoölogical investigations +at points along the Norwegian coast. In addition to these journeys +he had traversed Norway in every direction, partly to observe the +condition of the forests of the country, and partly to collect the +popular legends, which seem always to have been in his mind.</p> +<p>From 1856 to 1858 he studied forestry at Tharand, and in 1860 +was made head forester of the district of Trondhjem, in the north +of Norway. He retained this position until 1864, when he was sent +by the government to Holland, Germany, and Denmark, to investigate +the turf industry. On his return he was made the head of a +commission whose purpose was to better the turf production of the +country, from which position he was finally released with a pension +in 1876. He died in 1885.</p> +<p>Asbjörnsen's principal literary work was in the direction +of the folk-tales of Norway, although the list of his writings on +natural history, popular and scientific, is a long one. As a +scientist he made several important discoveries in deep-sea +soundings, which gave him, at home and abroad, a wide reputation, +but the significance of his work as a collector of folk-lore has in +a great measure overshadowed this phase of his activity. His +greatest works are--'Norske Folke-eventyr' (Norwegian Folk Tales), +in collaboration with Moe, which appeared in 1842-44, and +subsequently in many editions; 'Norske Huldre-eventyr og Folkesagn' +(Norwegian Fairy Tales and Folk Legends) in 1845. In the stories +published by Asbjörnsen alone, he has not confined himself +simply to the reproduction of the tales in their popular form, but +has retold them with an admirable setting of the characteristics of +the life of the people in their particular environment. He was a +rare lover of nature, and there are many exquisite bits of natural +description.</p> +<p>Asbjörnsen's literary power was of no mean merit, and his +work not only found immediate acceptance in his own country, but +has been widely translated into the other languages of Europe. +Norwegian literature in particular owes him a debt of gratitude, +for he was the first to point out the direction of the subsequent +national development.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="GUDBRAND_OF_THE_MOUNTAIN-SIDE"></a>GUDBRAND OF THE +MOUNTAIN-SIDE</h2> +<p>There was once a man named Gudbrand, who had a farm which lay on +the side of a mountain, whence he was called Gudbrand of the +Mountain-side. He and his wife lived in such harmony together, and +were so well matched, that whatever the husband did, seemed to the +wife so well done that it could not be done better; let him +therefore act as he might, she was equally well pleased.</p> +<p>They owned a plot of ground, and had a hundred dollars lying at +the bottom of a chest, and in the stall two fine cows. One day the +woman said to Gudbrand:--</p> +<p>"I think we might as well drive one of the cows to town, and +sell it; we should then have a little pocket-money: for such +respectable persons as we are ought to have a few shillings in hand +as well as others. The hundred dollars at the bottom of the chest +we had better not touch; but I do not see why we should keep more +than one cow: besides, we shall be somewhat the gainers; for +instead of two cows, I shall have only one to milk and look +after."</p> +<p>These words Gudbrand thought both just and reasonable; so he +took the cow and went to the town in order to sell it: but when he +came there, he could not find any one who wanted to buy a cow.</p> +<p>"Well!" thought Gudbrand, "I can go home again with my cow: I +have both stall and collar for her, and it is no farther to go +backwards than forwards." So saying, he began wandering home +again.</p> +<p>When he had gone a little way, he met a man who had a horse he +wished to sell, and Gudbrand thought it better to have a horse than +a cow, so he exchanged with the man. Going a little further still, +he met a man driving a fat pig before him; and thinking it better +to have a fat pig than a horse, he made an exchange with him also. +A little further on he met a man with a goat. "A goat," thought he, +"is always better to have than a pig;" so he made an exchange with +the owner of the goat. He now walked on for an hour, when he met a +man with a sheep; with him he exchanged his goat: "for," thought +he, "it is always better to have a sheep than a goat." After +walking some way again, meeting a man with a goose, he changed away +the sheep for the goose; then going on a long way, he met a man +with a cock, and thought to himself, "It is better to have a cock +than a goose," and so gave his goose for the cock. Having walked on +till the day was far gone, and beginning to feel hungry, he sold +the cock for twelve shillings, and bought some food; "for," thought +he, "it is better to support life than to carry back the cock." +After this he continued his way homeward till he reached the house +of his nearest neighbor, where he called in.</p> +<p>"How have matters gone with you in town?" asked the +neighbor.</p> +<p>"Oh," answered Gudbrand, "but so-so; I cannot boast of my luck, +neither can I exactly complain of it." He then began to relate all +that he had done from first to last.</p> +<p>"You'll meet with a warm reception when you get home to your +wife," said his neighbor. "God help you, I would not be in your +place."</p> +<p>"I think things might have been much worse," said Gudbrand; "but +whether they are good or bad, I have such a gentle wife that she +will never say a word, let me do what I may."</p> +<p>"Yes, that I know," answered his neighbor; "but I do not think +she will be so gentle in this instance."</p> +<p>"Shall we lay a wager?" said Gudbrand of the Mountain-side. "I +have got a hundred dollars in my chest at home; will you venture +the like sum?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I will," replied the neighbor, and they wagered +accordingly, and remained till evening drew on, when they set out +together for Gudbrand's house; having agreed that the neighbor +should stand outside and listen, while Gudbrand went in to meet his +wife.</p> +<p>"Good-evening," said Gudbrand.</p> +<p>"Good-evening," said his wife, "thank God thou art there."</p> +<p>Yes, there he was. His wife then began asking him how he had +fared in the town.</p> +<p>"So-so," said Gudbrand: "I have not much to boast of; for when I +reached the town there was no one who would buy the cow, so I +changed it for a horse."</p> +<p>"Many thanks for that," said his wife: "we are such respectable +people that we ought to ride to church as well as others; and if we +can afford to keep a horse, we may certainly have one. Go and put +the horse in the stable, children."</p> +<p>"Oh," said Gudbrand, "but I have not got the horse; for as I +went along the road, I exchanged the horse for a pig."</p> +<p>"Well," said the woman, "that is just what I should have done +myself; I thank thee for that. I can now have pork and bacon in my +house to offer anybody when they come to see us. What should we +have done with a horse? People would only have said we were grown +too proud to walk to church. Go, children, and put the pig in."</p> +<p>"But I have not brought the pig with me," exclaimed Gudbrand; +"for when I had gone a little further on, I exchanged it for a +milch goat."</p> +<p>"How admirably thou dost everything," exclaimed his wife. "What +should we have done with a pig? People would only have said that we +eat everything we own. Yes, now that I have a goat, I can get both +milk and cheese, and still keep my goat. Go and tie the goat, +children."</p> +<p>"No," said Gudbrand, "I have not brought home the goat; for when +I came a little further on, I changed the goat for a fine +sheep."</p> +<p>"Well," cried the woman, "thou hast done everything just as I +could wish; just as if I had been there myself. What should we have +done with a goat? I must have climbed up the mountains and wandered +through the valleys to bring it home in the evening. With a sheep I +should have wool and clothing in the house, with food into the +bargain. So go, children, and put the sheep into the field."</p> +<p>"But I have not got the sheep," said Gudbrand, "for as I went a +little further, I changed it away for a goose."</p> +<p>"Many, many thanks for that," said his wife. "What should I have +done with a sheep? For I have neither a spinning-wheel nor have I +much desire to toil and labor to make clothes; we can purchase +clothing as we have hitherto: now I shall have roast goose, which I +have often longed for; and then I can make a little pillow of the +feathers. Go and bring in the goose, children."</p> +<p>"But I have not got the goose," said Gudbrand; "as I came on a +little further, I changed it away for a cock."</p> +<p>"Heaven only knows how thou couldst think of all this," +exclaimed his wife, "it is just as if I had managed it all myself. +A cock! that is just as good as if thou hadst bought an eight-day +clock; for as the cock crows every morning at four o'clock, we can +be stirring betimes. What should I have done with a goose? I do not +know how to dress a goose, and my pillow I can stuff with moss. Go +and fetch in the cock, children."</p> +<p>"But I have not brought the cock home with me," said Gudbrand; +"for when I had gone a long, long way, I became so hungry that I +was obliged to sell the cock for twelve shillings to keep me +alive."</p> +<p>"Well! thank God thou always dost just as I could wish to have +it done. What should we have done with a cock? We are our own +masters; we can lie as long as we like in the morning. God be +praised, I have got thee here safe again, and as thou always dost +everything so right, we want neither a cock, nor a goose, nor a +pig, nor a sheep, nor a cow."</p> +<p>Hereupon Gudbrand opened the door:--"Have I won your hundred +dollars?" asked he of the neighbor, who was obliged to confess that +he had.</p> +<p>Translation by Benjamin Thorpe in 'Yule-Tide Stories' (Bonn's +Library).</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_WIDOWS_SON"></a>THE WIDOW'S SON</h2> +<p>There was once a very poor woman who had only one son. She +toiled for him till he was old enough to be confirmed by the +priest, when she told him that she could support him no longer, but +that he must go out in the world and gain his own livelihood. So +the youth set out, and after wandering about for a day or two he +met a stranger. "Whither art thou going?" asked the man. "I am +going out in the world to see if I can get employment," answered +the youth.--"Wilt thou serve us?"--"Yes, just as well serve you as +anybody else," answered the youth. "Thou shalt be well cared for +with me," said the man: "thou shalt be my companion, and do little +or nothing besides."</p> +<p>So the youth resided with him, had plenty to eat and drink, and +very little or nothing to do; but he never saw a living person in +the man's house.</p> +<p>One day his master said to him:--"I am going to travel, and +shall be absent eight days. During that time thou wilt be here +alone: but thou must not go into either of these four rooms; if +thou dost, I will kill thee when I return." The youth answered that +he would not. When the man had gone away three or four days, the +youth could no longer refrain, but went into one of the rooms. He +looked around, but saw nothing except a shelf over the door, with a +whip made of briar on it. "This was well worth forbidding me so +strictly from seeing," thought the youth. When the eight days had +passed the man came home again. "Thou hast not, I hope, been into +any of my rooms," said he. "No, I have not," answered the youth. +"That I shall soon be able to see," said the man, going into the +room the youth had entered. "But thou hast been in," said he, "and +now thou shalt die." The youth cried and entreated to be forgiven, +so that he escaped with his life but had a severe beating; when +that was over, they were as good friends as before.</p> +<p>Some time after this, the man took another journey. This time he +would be away a fortnight, but first forbade the youth again from +going into any of the rooms he had not already been in; but the one +he had previously entered he might enter again. This time all took +place just as before, the only difference being that the youth +abstained for eight days before he entered the forbidden rooms. In +one apartment he found only a shelf over the door, on which lay a +huge stone and a water-bottle. "This is also something to be in +such fear about," thought the youth again. When the man came home, +he asked whether he had been in any of the rooms. "No, he had not," +was the answer. "I shall soon see," said the man; and when he found +that the youth had nevertheless been in, he said, "Now I will no +longer spare thee, thou shalt die." But the youth cried and +implored that his life might be spared, and thus again escaped with +a beating; but this time got as much as could be laid on him. When +he had recovered from the effect of this beating he lived as well +as ever, and he and the man were as good friends as before.</p> +<p>Some time after this, the man again made a journey, and now he +was to be three weeks absent. He warned the youth anew not to enter +the third room; if he did he must at once prepare to die. At the +end of a fortnight, the youth had no longer any command over +himself, and stole in; but here he saw nothing save a trap-door in +the floor. He lifted it up and looked through; there stood a large +copper kettle, that boiled and boiled, yet he could see no fire +under it. "I should like to know if it is hot," thought the youth, +dipping his finger down into it; but when he drew it up again he +found that all his finger was gilt. He scraped and washed it, but +the gilding was not to be removed; so he tied a rag over it, and +when the man returned and asked him what was the matter with his +finger, he answered he had cut it badly. But the man, tearing the +rag off, at once saw what ailed the finger. At first he was going +to kill the youth, but as he cried and begged again, he merely beat +him so that he was obliged to lie in bed for three days. The man +then took a pot down from the wall and rubbed him with what it +contained, so that the youth was as well as before.</p> +<p>After some time the man made another journey, and said he should +not return for a month. He then told the youth that if he went into +the fourth room, he must not think for a moment that his life would +be spared. One, two, even three weeks the youth refrained from +entering the forbidden room; but then, having no longer any command +over himself, he stole in. There stood a large black horse in a +stall, with a trough of burning embers at its head and a basket of +hay at its tail. The youth thought this was cruel, and therefore +changed their position, putting the basket of hay by the horse's +head. The horse thereupon said:--</p> +<p>"As you have so kind a disposition that you enable me to get +food, I will save you: should the Troll return and find you here, +he will kill you. Now you must go up into the chamber above this, +and take one of the suits of armor that hang there: but on no +account take one that is bright; on the contrary, select the most +rusty you can see, and take that; choose also a sword and saddle in +like manner."</p> +<p>The youth did so, but he found the whole very heavy for him to +carry. When he came back, the horse said that now he should strip +and wash himself well in the kettle, which stood boiling in the +next apartment. "I feel afraid," thought the youth, but +nevertheless did so. When he had washed himself, he became comely +and plump, and as red and white as milk and blood, and much +stronger than before. "Are you sensible of any change?" asked the +horse. "Yes," answered the youth. "Try to lift me," said the horse. +Aye, that he could, and brandished the sword with ease. "Now lay +the saddle on me," said the horse, "put on the armor and take the +whip of thorn, the stone and the water-flask, and the pot with +ointment, and then we will set out."</p> +<p>When the youth had mounted the horse, it started off at a rapid +rate. After riding some time, the horse said, "I think I hear a +noise. Look round: can you see anything?" "A great many men are +coming after us,--certainly a score at least," answered the youth. +"Ah! that is the Troll," said the horse, "he is coming with all his +companions."</p> +<p>They traveled for a time, until their pursuers were gaining on +them. "Throw now the thorn whip over your shoulder," said the +horse, "but throw it far away from me."</p> +<p>The youth did so, and at the same moment there sprang up a large +thick wood of briars. The youth now rode on a long way, while the +Troll was obliged to go home for something wherewith to hew a road +through the wood. After some time the horse again said, "Look back: +can you see anything now?" "Yes, a whole multitude of people," said +the youth, "like a church congregation."--"That is the Troll; now +he has got more with him; throw out now the large stone, but throw +it far from me."</p> +<p>When the youth had done what the horse desired, there arose a +large stone mountain behind them. So the Troll was obliged to go +home after something with which to bore through the mountain; and +while he was thus employed, the youth rode on a considerable way. +But now the horse again bade him look back: he then saw a multitude +like a whole army; they were so bright that they glittered in the +sun. "Well, that is the Troll with all his friends," said the +horse. "Now throw the water bottle behind you, but take good care +to spill nothing on me!" The youth did so, but notwithstanding his +caution he happened to spill a drop on the horse's loins. +Immediately there rose a vast lake, and the spilling of the few +drops caused the horse to stand far out in the water; nevertheless, +he at last swam to the shore.</p> +<p>When the Trolls came to the water they lay down to drink it all +up, and they gulped and gulped till they burst. "Now we are quit of +them," said the horse.</p> +<p>When they had traveled on a very long way they came to a green +plain in a wood. "Take off your armor now," said the horse, "and +put on your rags only; lift my saddle off and hang everything up in +that large hollow linden; make yourself then a wig of pine-moss, go +to the royal palace which lies close by, and there ask for +employment. When you desire to see me, come to this spot, shake the +bridle, and I will instantly be with you."</p> +<p>The youth did as the horse told him; and when he put on the moss +wig he became so pale and miserable to look at that no one would +have recognized him. On reaching the palace, he only asked if he +might serve in the kitchen to carry wood and water to the cook; but +the cook-maid asked him why he wore such an ugly wig? "Take it +off," said she: "I will not have anybody here so frightful." "That +I cannot," answered the youth, "for I am not very clean in the +head." "Dost thou think then that I will have thee in the kitchen, +if such be the case?" said she; "go to the master of the horse: +thou art fittest to carry muck from the stables." When the master +of the horse told him to take off his wig, he got the same answer, +so he refused to have him. "Thou canst go to the gardener," said +he, "thou art only fit to go and dig the ground." The gardener +allowed him to remain, but none of the servants would sleep with +him, so he was obliged to sleep alone under the stairs of the +summer-house, which stood upon pillars and had a high staircase, +under which he laid a quantity of moss for a bed, and there lay as +well as he could.</p> +<p>When he had been some time in the royal palace, it happened one +morning, just at sunrise, that the youth had taken off his moss wig +and was standing washing himself, and appeared so handsome it was a +pleasure to look on him. The princess saw from her window this +comely gardener, and thought she had never before seen any one so +handsome.</p> +<p>She then asked the gardener why he lay out there under the +stairs. "Because none of the other servants will lie with him," +answered the gardener. "Let him come this evening and lie by the +door in my room," said the princess: "they cannot refuse after that +to let him sleep in the house."</p> +<p>The gardener told this to the youth. "Dost thou think I will do +so?" said he. "If I do so, all will say there is something between +me and the princess." "Thou hast reason, forsooth, to fear such a +suspicion," replied the gardener, "such a fine, comely lad as thou +art." "Well, if she has commanded it, I suppose I must comply," +said the youth. In going up-stairs that evening he stamped and made +such a noise that they were obliged to beg of him to go more +gently, lest it might come to the king's knowledge. When within the +chamber, he lay down and began immediately to snore. The princess +then said to her waiting-maid, "Go gently and pull off his moss +wig." Creeping softly toward him, she was about to snatch it, but +he held it fast with both hands, and said she should not have it. +He then lay down again and began to snore. The princess made a sign +to the maid, and this time she snatched his wig off. There he lay +so beautifully red and white, just as the princess had seen him in +the morning sun. After this the youth slept every night in the +princess's chamber.</p> +<p>But it was not long before the king heard that the garden lad +slept every night in the princess's chamber, at which he became so +angry that he almost resolved on putting him to death. This, +however, he did not do, but cast him into prison, and his daughter +he confined to her room, not allowing her to go out, either by day +or night. Her tears and prayers for herself and the youth were +unheeded by the king, who only became the more incensed against +her.</p> +<p>Some time after this, there arose a war and disturbance in the +country, and the king was obliged to take arms and defend himself +against another king, who threatened to deprive him of his throne. +When the youth heard this he begged the jailer would go to the king +for him, and propose to let him have armor and a sword, and allow +him to follow to the war. All the courtiers laughed when the jailer +made known his errand to the king. They begged he might have some +old trumpery for armor, that they might enjoy the sport of seeing +the poor creature in the war. He got the armor and also an old jade +of a horse, which limped on three legs, dragging the fourth after +it.</p> +<p>Thus they all marched forth against the enemy, but they had not +gone far from the royal palace before the youth stuck fast with his +old jade in a swamp. Here he sat beating and calling to the jade, +"Hie! wilt thou go? hie! wilt thou go?" This amused all the others, +who laughed and jeered as they passed. But no sooner were they all +gone than, running to the linden, he put on his own armor and shook +the bridle, and immediately the horse appeared, and said, "Do thou +do thy best and I will do mine."</p> +<p>When the youth arrived on the field the battle had already +begun, and the king was hard pressed; but just at that moment the +youth put the enemy to flight. The king and his attendants wondered +who it could be that came to their help; but no one had been near +enough to speak to him, and when the battle was over he was away. +When they returned, the youth was still sitting fast in the swamp, +beating and calling to his three-legged jade. They laughed as they +passed, and said, "Only look, yonder sits the fool yet."</p> +<p>The next day when they marched out the youth was still sitting +there, and they again laughed and jeered at him; but no sooner had +they all passed by than he ran again to the linden, and everything +took place as on the previous day. Every one wondered who the +stranger warrior was who had fought for them; but no one approached +him so near that he could speak to him: of course no one ever +imagined that it was the youth.</p> +<p>When they returned in the evening and saw him and his old jade +still sticking fast in the swamp, they again made a jest of him; +one shot an arrow at him and wounded him in the leg, and he began +to cry and moan so that it was sad to hear, whereupon the king +threw him his handkerchief that he might bind it about his leg. +When they marched forth the third morning there sat the youth +calling to his horse, "Hie! wilt thou go? hie! wilt thou go?" "No, +no! he will stay there till he starves," said the king's men as +they passed by, and laughed so heartily at him that they nearly +fell from their horses. When they had all passed, he again ran to +the linden, and came to the battle just at the right moment. That +day he killed the enemy's king, and thus the war was at an end.</p> +<p>When the fighting was over, the king observed his handkerchief +tied round the leg of the strange warrior, and by this he easily +knew him. They received him with great joy, and carried him with +them up to the royal palace, and the princess, who saw them from +her window, was so delighted no one could tell. "There comes my +beloved also," said she. He then took the pot of ointment and +rubbed his leg, and afterward all the wounded, so that they were +all well again in a moment.</p> +<p>After this the king gave him the princess to wife. On the day of +his marriage he went down into the stable to see the horse, and +found him dull, hanging his ears and refusing to eat. When the +young king--for he was now king, having obtained the half of the +realm--spoke to him and asked him what he wanted, the horse said, +"I have now helped thee forward in the world, and I will live no +longer: thou must take thy sword, and cut my head off." "No, that I +will not do," said the young king: "thou shalt have whatever thou +wilt, and always live without working." "If thou wilt not do as I +say," answered the horse, "I shall find a way of killing thee."</p> +<p>The king was then obliged to slay him; but when he raised the +sword to give the stroke he was so distressed that he turned his +face away; but no sooner had he struck his head off than there +stood before him a handsome prince in the place of the horse.</p> +<p>"Whence in the name of Heaven didst thou come?" asked the king. +"It was I who was the horse," answered the prince. "Formerly I was +king of the country whose sovereign you slew yesterday; it was he +who cast over me a horse's semblance, and sold me to the Troll. As +he is killed, I shall recover my kingdom, and you and I shall be +neighboring kings; but we will never go to war with each +other."</p> +<p>Neither did they; they were friends as long as they lived, and +the one came often to visit the other.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ROGER_ASCHAM"></a>ROGER ASCHAM</h2> +<h3>(1515-1568)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>his noted scholar owes his place in English literature to his +pure, vigorous English prose. John Tindal and Sir Thomas More, his +predecessors, had perhaps equaled him in the flexible and simple +use of his native tongue, but they had not surpassed him. The usage +of the time was still to write works of importance in Latin, and +Ascham was master of a good Ciceronian Latin style. It is to his +credit that he urged on his countrymen the writing of English, and +set them an example of its vigorous use.</p> +<p>He was the son of John Ascham, house steward to Lord Scrope of +Bolton, and was born at Kirby Wiske, near Northallerton, in 1515. +At the age of fifteen he entered St. John's College, Cambridge, +where he applied himself to Greek and Latin, mathematics, music, +and penmanship. He had great success in teaching and improving the +study of the classics; but seems to have had a somewhat checkered +academic career, both as student and teacher. His poverty was +excessive, and he made many unsuccessful attempts to secure +patronage and position; till at length, in 1545, he published his +famous treatise on Archery, 'Toxophilus,' which he presented to +Henry VIII. in the picture gallery at Greenwich, and which obtained +for him a small pension. The treatise is in the form of a dialogue, +the first part being an argument in favor of archery, and the +second, instructions for its practice. In its pages he makes a plea +for the literary use of the English tongue.</p> +<p>After long-continued disappointment and trouble, he was finally +successful in obtaining the position of tutor to the Princess +Elizabeth, in 1548. She was fifteen years old, and he found her an +apt scholar; but the life was irksome, and in 1550 he resigned the +post to return to Cambridge as public orator,--whence one may guess +as a main reason for so excellent a teacher having so hard a time +to live, that like many others he liked to talk about his +profession better than to practice it. Going abroad shortly +afterward as secretary to Sir Richard Morysin, ambassador to +Charles V., he remained with him until 1553, when he received the +appointment of Latin secretary to Queen Mary. It is said that he +wrote for her forty-seven letters in his fine Latin style, in three +days.</p> +<p class="rgt"><img src="images/image-465.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>ROGER ASCHAM</b></p> +<p>At the accession of Elizabeth he received the office of the +Queen's private tutor. Poverty and "household griefs" still gave +him anxiety; but during the five years which elapsed between 1563 +and his death in 1568, he found some comfort in the composition of +his Schoolmaster, which was published by his widow in 1570. It was +suggested by a conversation at Windsor with Sir William Cecil, on +the proper method of bringing up children. Sir Richard Sackville +was so well pleased with Ascham's theories that he, with others, +entreated him to write a practical work on the subject. 'The +Schoolmaster' argues in favor of gentleness rather than force on +the part of an instructor. Then he commends his own method of +teaching Latin by double translation, offers remarks on Latin +prosody, and touches on other pedagogic themes. Both this and the +'Toxophilus' show a pure, straightforward, easy style. Contemporary +testimony to its beauty may be found in an appendix to Mayor's +edition of 'The School master' (1863); though Dr. Johnson, in a +memoir prefixed to Rennet's collected edition of Ascham's English +works (1771), says that "he was scarcely known as an author in his +own language till Mr. Upton published his 'Schoolmaster' in 1771." +He has remained, however, the best known type of a great teacher in +the popular memory; in part, perhaps, through his great pupil.</p> +<p>The best collected edition of his works, including his Latin +letters, was published by Dr. Giles in 1864-5. There is an +authoritative edition of the 'Schoolmaster' in the Arber Series of +old English reprints. The best account of his system of education +is in R.H. Quick's 'Essays on Educational Reformers' (1868).</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_GENTLENESS_IN_EDUCATION"></a>ON GENTLENESS IN +EDUCATION</h2> +<center>From 'The Schoolmaster'</center> +<br> +<p>Yet some will say that children, of nature, love pastime, and +mislike learning; because, in their kind, the one is easy and +pleasant, the other hard and wearisome. Which is an opinion not so +true as some men ween. For the matter lieth not so much in the +disposition of them that be young, as in the order and manner of +bringing up by them that be old; nor yet in the difference of +learning and pastime. For, beat a child if he dance not well, and +cherish him though he learn not well, you shall have him unwilling +to go to dance, and glad to go to his book; knock him always when +he draweth his shaft ill, and favor him again though he fault at +his book, you shall have him very loth to be in the field, and very +willing to be in the school. Yea, I say more, and not of myself, +but by the judgment of those from whom few wise men will gladly +dissent; that if ever the nature of man be given at any time, more +than other, to receive goodness, it is in innocency of young years, +before that experience of evil have taken root in him. For the pure +clean wit of a sweet young babe is like the newest wax, most able +to receive the best and fairest printing; and like a new bright +silver dish never occupied, to receive and keep clean any good +thing that is put into it.</p> +<p>And thus, will in children, wisely wrought withal, may easily be +won to be very well willing to learn. And wit in children, by +nature, namely memory, the only key and keeper of all learning, is +readiest to receive and surest to keep any manner of thing that is +learned in youth. This, lewd and learned, by common experience, +know to be most true. For we remember nothing so well when we be +old as those things which we learned when we were young. And this +is not strange, but common in all nature's works. "Every man seeth +(as I said before) new wax is best for printing, new clay fittest +for working, new-shorn wool aptest for soon and surest dyeing, new +fresh flesh for good and durable salting." And this similitude is +not rude, nor borrowed of the larder-house, but out of his +school-house, of whom the wisest of England need not be ashamed to +learn. "Young grafts grow not only soonest, but also fairest, and +bring always forth the best and sweetest fruit; young whelps learn +easily to carry; young popin-jays learn quickly to speak." And so, +to be short, if in all other things, though they lack reason, +sense, and life, the similitude of youth is fittest to all +goodness, surely nature in mankind is most beneficial and effectual +in their behalf.</p> +<p>Therefore, if to the goodness of nature be joined the wisdom of +the teacher, in leading young wits into a right and plain way of +learning; surely children kept up in God's fear, and governed by +His grace, may most easily be brought well to serve God and their +country, both by virtue and wisdom.</p> +<p>But if will and wit, by farther age, be once allured from +innocency, delighted in vain sights, filled with foul talk, crooked +with wilfulness, hardened with stubbornness, and let loose to +disobedience; surely it is hard with gentleness, but impossible +with severe cruelty, to call them back to good frame again. For +where the one perchance may bend it, the other shall surely break +it: and so, instead of some hope, leave an assured desperation, and +shameless contempt of all goodness; the furthest point in all +mischief, as Xenophon doth most truly and most wittily mark.</p> +<p>Therefore, to love or to hate, to like or contemn, to ply this +way or that way to good or to bad, ye shall have as ye use a child +in his youth.</p> +<p>And one example whether love or fear doth work more in a child +for virtue and learning, I will gladly report; which may be heard +with some pleasure, and followed with more profit.</p> +<p>Before I went into Germany, I came to Broadgate in +Leicestershire, to take my leave of that noble lady, Jane Grey, to +whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her parents, the duke and +duchess, with all the household, gentlemen and gentlewomen, were +hunting in the park. I found her in her chamber, reading +Phædo Platonis in Greek, and that with as much delight as +some gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace. After salutation +and duty done, with some other talk, I asked her why she would +leese [lose] such pastime in the park? Smiling she answered me: +"Iwisse, all their sport in the park is but a shadow to that +pleasure that I find in Plato. Alas! good folk, they never felt +what true pleasure meant." "And how came you, madame," quoth I, "to +this deep knowledge of pleasure? and what did chiefly allure you +unto it, seeing not many women, but very few men, have attained +thereunto?" "I will tell you," quoth she, "and tell you a truth, +which perchance ye will marvel at. One of the greatest benefits +that ever God gave me, is, that he sent me so sharp and severe +parents, and so gentle a schoolmaster. For when I am in presence +either of father or mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, +stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry, or sad, be sewing, playing, +dancing, or doing anything else, I must do it, as it were, in such +weight, measure, and number, even so perfectly, as God made the +world; or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea, +presently, sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways +which I will not name, for the honor I bear them, so without +measure misordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come +that I must go to Mr. Elmer; who teacheth me so gently, so +pleasantly, with such fair allurements to learning, that I think +all the time nothing whiles I am with him. And when I am called +from him, I fall on weeping, because whatsoever I do else but +learning, is full of grief, trouble, fear, and whole misliking unto +me. And thus my book hath been so much my pleasure, and bringeth +daily to me more pleasure and more, that in respect of it, all +other pleasures, in very deed, be but trifles and troubles unto +me."</p> +<p>I remember this talk gladly, both because it is so worthy of +memory, and because also it was the last talk that ever I had, and +the last time that ever I saw that noble and worthy lady.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ON_STUDY_AND_EXERCISE"></a>ON STUDY AND EXERCISE</h2> +<center>From 'Toxophilus'</center> +<br> +<p>Philologe--But now to our shooting, Toxophile, again; wherein I +suppose you cannot say so much for shooting to be fit for learning, +as you have spoken against music for the same. Therefore, as +concerning music, I can be content to grant you your mind; but as +for shooting, surely I suppose that you cannot persuade me, by no +means, that a man can be earnest in it, and earnest at his book +too; but rather I think that a man with a bow on his back, and +shafts under his girdle, is more fit to wait upon Robin Hood than +upon Apollo or the Muses.</p> +<p><i>Toxophile</i>--Over-earnest shooting surely I will not +over-earnestly defend; for I ever thought shooting should be a +waiter upon learning, not a mistress over learning. Yet this I +marvel not a little at, that ye think a man with a bow on his back +is more like Robin Hood's servant than Apollo's, seeing that Apollo +himself, in Alcestis of Euripides, which tragedy you read openly +not long ago, in a manner glorieth, saying this verse:--</p> +<blockquote>"It is my wont always my bow with me to +bear."</blockquote> +<p>Therefore a learned man ought not too much to be ashamed to bear +that sometime, which Apollo, god of learning, himself was not +ashamed always to bear. And because ye would have a man wait upon +the Muses, and not at all meddle with shooting: I marvel that you +do not remember how that the nine Muses their self, as soon as they +were born, were put to nurse to a lady called Euphemis, which had a +son named Erotus, with whom the nine Muses for his excellent +shooting kept evermore company withal, and used daily to shoot +together in the Mount Parnassus; and at last it chanced this Erotus +to die, whose death the Muses lamented greatly, and fell all upon +their knees afore Jupiter their father; and at their request, +Erotus, for shooting with the Muses on earth, was made a sign and +called Sagittarius in heaven. Therefore you see that if Apollo and +the Muses either were examples indeed, or only feigned of wise men +to be examples of learning, honest shooting may well enough be +companion with honest study.</p> +<p><i>Philologe</i>--Well, Toxophile, if you have no stronger +defense of shooting than poets, I fear if your companions which +love shooting heard you, they would think you made it but a +trifling and fabling matter, rather than any other man that loveth +not shooting could be persuaded by this reason to love it.</p> +<p><i>Toxophile</i>--Even as I am not so fond but I know that these +be fables, so I am sure you be not so ignorant but you know what +such noble wits as the poets had, meant by such matters; which +oftentimes, under the covering of a fable, do hide and wrap in +goodly precepts of philosophy, with the true judgment of things. +Which to be true, specially in Homer and Euripides, Plato, +Aristotle, and Galen plainly do show; when through all their works +(in a manner) they determine all controversies by these two poets +and such like authorities. Therefore, if in this matter I seem to +fable and nothing prove, I am content you judge so on me, seeing +the same judgment shall condemn with me Plato, Aristotle, and +Galen, whom in that error I am well content to follow. If these old +examples prove nothing for shooting, what say you to this, that the +best learned and sagest men in this realm which be now alive, both +love shooting and use shooting, as the best learned bishops that +be? amongst whom, Philologe, you yourself know four or five, which, +as in all good learning, virtue, and sageness, they give other men +example what thing they should do, even so by their shooting they +plainly show what honest pastime other men given to learning may +honestly use. That earnest study must be recreated with honest +pastime, sufficiently I have proved afore, both by reason and +authority of the best learned men that ever wrote. Then seeing +pastimes be leful [lawful], the most fittest for learning is to be +sought for. A pastime, saith Aristotle, must be like a medicine. +Medicines stand by contraries; therefore, the nature of studying +considered, the fittest pastime shall soon appear. In study every +part of the body is idle, which thing causeth gross and cold humors +to gather together and vex scholars very much; the mind is +altogether bent and set on work. A pastime then must be had where +every part of the body must be labored, to separate and lessen such +humors withal; the mind must be unbent, to gather and fetch again +his quickness withal. Thus pastimes for the mind only be nothing +fit for students, because the body, which is most hurt by study, +should take away no profit thereat. This knew Erasmus very well, +when he was here in Cambridge; which, when he had been sore at his +book (as Garret our book-binder had very often told me), for lack +of better exercise, would take his horse and ride about the +market-hill and come again. If a scholar should use bowls or +tennis, the labor is too vehement and unequal, which is condemned +of Galen; the example very ill for other men, when by so many acts +they be made unlawful. Running, leaping, and quoiting be too vile +for scholars, and so not fit by Aristotle's judgment; walking alone +into the field hath no token of courage in it, a pastime like a +simple man which is neither flesh nor fish. Therefore if a man +would have a pastime wholesome and equal for every part of the +body, pleasant and full of courage for the mind, not vile and +unhonest to give ill example to laymen, not kept in gardens and +corners, not lurking on the night and in holes, but evermore in the +face of men, either to rebuke it when it doeth ill, or else to +testify on it when it doth well, let him seek chiefly of all other +for shooting.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="ATHENAEUS"></a>ATHENÆUS</h2> +<h3>(Third Century A.D.)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-l.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>ittle is known that is authentic about the Græco-Egyptian +Sophist or man of letters, Athenaeus, author of the +'Deipnosophistæ' or Feast of the Learned, except his literary +bequest. It is recorded that he was born at Naucratis, a city of +the Nile Delta; and that after living at Alexandria he migrated to +Rome. His date is presumptively fixed in the early part of the +third century by his inclusion of Ulpian, the eminent jurist (whose +death occurred A.D. 228) among the twenty-nine guests of the +banquet whose wit and learning furnished its viands. He was perhaps +a contemporary of the physician Galen, another of the putative +banqueters, who served as a mouthpiece of the author's +erudition.</p> +<p>Probably nothing concerning him deserved preservation except his +unique work, the 'Feast of the Learned.' Of the fifteen books +transmitted under the above title, the first two, and portions of +the third, eleventh, and fifteenth, exist only in epitome--the name +of the compiler and his time being equally obscure; yet it is +curious that for many centuries these garbled fragments were the +only memorials of the author extant. The other books, constituting +the major portion of the work, have been pronounced authentic by +eminent scholars with Bentley at their head. Without the slightest +pretense of literary skill, the 'Feast of the Learned' is an +immense storehouse of <i>Ana</i>, or table-talk. Into its +receptacles the author gathers fruitage from nearly every branch of +contemporary learning. He seemed to anticipate Macaulay's "vice of +omniscience," though he lacked Macaulay's incomparable literary +virtues. Personal anecdote, criticism of the fine arts, the drama, +history, poetry, philosophy, politics, medicine, and natural +history enter into his pages, illustrated with an aptness and +variety of quotation which seem to have no limit. He preserves old +songs, folk-lore, and popular gossip, and relates whatever he may +have heard, without sifting it. He gives, for example, a vivid +account of the procession which greeted Demetrius +Poliorketes:--</p> +<blockquote>"When Demetrius returned from Leucadia and Corcyra to +Athens, the Athenians received him not only with incense and +garlands and libations, but they even sent out processional +choruses, and greeted him with Ithyphallic hymns and dances. +Stationed by his chariot-wheels, they sang and danced and chanted +that he alone was a real god; the rest were sleeping or were on a +journey, or did not exist: they called him son of Poseidon and +Aphrodite, eminent for beauty, universal in his goodness to +mankind; then they prayed and besought and supplicated him like a +god."</blockquote> +<p>The hymn of worship which Athenaeus evidently disapproved has +been preserved, and turned into English by the accomplished J.A. +Symonds on account of its rare and interesting versification. It +belongs to the class of Prosodia, or processional hymns, which the +greatest poets delighted to produce, and which were sung at +religious festivals by young men and maidens, marching to the +shrines in time with the music, their locks crowned with wreaths of +olive, myrtle, or oleander; their white robes shining in the +sun.</p> +<blockquote>"See how the mightiest gods, and best beloved,<br> + Towards our town are winging!<br> +For lo! Demeter and Demetrius<br> + This glad day is bringing!<br> +She to perform her Daughter's solemn rites;<br> + Mystic pomps attend her;<br> +He joyous as a god should be, and blithe,<br> + Comes with laughing splendor.<br> +Show forth your triumph! Friends all, troop around,<br> + Let him shine above you!<br> +Be you the stars to circle him with love;<br> + He's the sun to love you.<br> +Hail, offspring of Poseidon, powerful god,<br> + Child of Aphrodite!<br> +The other deities keep far from earth;<br> + Have no ears, though mighty;<br> +They are not, or they will not hear us wail:<br> + Thee our eye beholdeth;<br> +Not wood, not stone, but living, breathing, real,<br> + Thee our prayer enfoldeth.<br> +First give us peace! Give, dearest, for thou canst;<br> + Thou art Lord and Master!<br> +The Sphinx, who not on Thebes, but on all Greece<br> + Swoops to gloat and pasture;<br> +The Ætolian, he who sits upon his rock,<br> + Like that old disaster;<br> +He feeds upon our flesh and blood, and we<br> + Can no longer labor;<br> +For it was ever thus the Ætolian thief<br> + Preyed upon his neighbor;<br> +Him punish Thou, or, if not Thou, then send<br> + Oedipus to harm him,<br> +Who'll cast this Sphinx down from his cliff of pride,<br> + Or to stone will charm him."</blockquote> +<p>The Swallow song, which is cited, is an example of the folk-lore +and old customs which Athenaeus delighted to gather; and he tells +how in springtime the children used to go about from door to door, +begging doles and presents, and singing such half-sensible, +half-foolish rhymes as--</p> +<blockquote>"She is here, she is here, the swallow!<br> +Fair seasons bringing, fair years to follow!<br> +Her belly is white,<br> +Her back black as night!<br> +From your rich house<br> +Roll forth to us<br> +Tarts, wine, and cheese;<br> +Or, if not these,<br> +Oatmeal and barley-cake<br> +The swallow deigns to take.<br> +What shall we have? or must we hence away!<br> +Thanks, if you give: if not, we'll make you pay!<br> +The house-door hence we'll carry;<br> +Nor shall the lintel tarry;<br> +From hearth and home your wife we'll rob;<br> +She is so small,<br> +To take her off will be an easy job!<br> +Whate'er you give, give largess free!<br> +Up! open, open, to the swallow's call!<br> +No grave old men, but merry children we!"</blockquote> +<p>The 'Feast of the Learned' professes to be the record of the +sayings at a banquet given at Rome by Laurentius to his learned +friends. Laurentius stands as the typical Mæcenas of the +period. The dialogue is reported after Plato's method, or as we see +it in the more familiar form of the 'Satires' of Horace, though +lacking the pithy vigor of these models. The discursiveness with +which topics succeed each other, their want of logic or continuity, +and the pelting fire of quotations in prose and verse, make a +strange mixture. It may be compared to one of those dishes known +both to ancients and to moderns, in which a great variety of scraps +is enriched with condiments to the obliteration of all individual +flavor. The plan of execution is so cumbersome that its only +defense is its imitation of the inevitably disjointed talk when the +guests of a dinner party are busy with their wine and nuts. One is +tempted to suspect Athenaeus of a sly sarcasm at his own expense, +when he puts the following flings at pedantry in the mouths of some +of his puppets:--</p> +<blockquote>"And now when Myrtilus had said all this in a connected +statement, and when all were marveling at his memory, Cynulcus +said,--<br> +<br> +<blockquote>'Your multifarious learning I do wonder at, Though +there is not a thing more vain and useless.'</blockquote> +<br> +"Says Hippo the Atheist, 'But the divine Heraclitus also says, 'A +great variety of information does not usually give wisdom.' And +Timon said, ... 'For what is the use of so many names, my good +grammarian, which are more calculated to overwhelm the hearers than +to do them any good?'"</blockquote> +<p>This passage shows the redundancy of expression which disfigures +so much of Athenaeus. It is also typical of the cudgel-play of +repartee between his characters, which takes the place of agile +witticism. But if he heaps up vast piles of scholastic rubbish, he +is also the Golden Dustman who shows us the treasure preserved by +his saving pedantry. Scholars find the 'Feast of the Learned' a +quarry of quotations from classical writers whose works have +perished. Nearly eight hundred writers and twenty-four hundred +separate writings are referred to and cited in this disorderly +encyclopedia, most of them now lost and forgotten. This literary +thrift will always give rank to the work of Athenaeus, poor as it +is. The best editions of the original Greek are those of Dindorf +(Leipzig, 1827), and of Meineke (Leipzig, 1867). The best English +translation is that of C.D. Yonge in 'Bonn's Classical Library,' +from which, with slight alterations, the appended passages are +selected.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="WHY_THE_NILE_OVERFLOWS"></a>WHY THE NILE +OVERFLOWS</h2> +<center>From the 'Deipnosophistæ'</center> +<br> +<p>Thales the Milesian, one of the Seven Wise Men, says that the +overflowing of the Nile arises from the Etesian winds; for that +they blow up the river, and that the mouths of the river lie +exactly opposite to the point from which they blow; and +accordingly, that the wind blowing in the opposite direction +hinders the flow of the waters; and the waves of the sea, dashing +against the mouth of the river, and coming on with a fair wind in +the same direction, beat back the river, and in this manner the +Nile becomes full to overflowing. But Anaxagoras, the natural +philosopher, says that the fullness of the Nile arises from the +snow melting; and so too says Euripides, and some others of the +tragic poets. Anaxagoras says this is the sole origin of all that +fullness; but Euripides goes further and describes the exact place +where this melting of the snow takes place.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="HOW_TO_PRESERVE_THE_HEALTH"></a>HOW TO PRESERVE THE +HEALTH</h2> +<center>From the 'Deipnosophistæ'</center> +<br> +<p>One ought to avoid thick perfumes, and to drink water that is +thin and clear, and that in respect of weight is light, and that +has no earthy particles in it. And that water is best which is of +moderate heat or coldness, and which, when poured into a brazen or +silver vessel, does not produce a blackish sediment. Hippocrates +says, "Water which is easily warmed or easily chilled is alway +lighter." But that water is bad which takes a long time to boil +vegetables; and so too is water full of nitre, or brackish. And in +his book 'On Waters,' Hippocrates calls good water drinkable; but +stagnant water he calls bad, such as that from ponds or marshes. +And most spring-water is rather hard.</p> +<p>Erasistratus says that some people test water by weight, and +that is a most stupid proceeding. "For just look," says he, "if men +compare the water from the fountain Amphiaraus with that from the +Eretrian spring, though one of them is good and the other bad, +there is absolutely no difference in their respective weights." And +Hippocrates, in his book 'On Places,' says that those waters are +the best which flow from high ground, and from dry hills, "for they +are white and sweet, and are able to bear very little wine, and are +warm in winter and cold in summer." And he praises those most, the +springs of which break toward the east, and especially toward the +northeast, for they must be inevitably clear and fragrant and +light. Diocles says that water is good for the digestion and not +apt to cause flatulency, that it is moderately cooling, and good +for the eyes, and that it has no tendency to make the head feel +heavy, and that it adds vigor to the mind and body. And Praxagoras +says the same; and he also praises rain-water. But Euenor praises +water from cisterns, and says that the best is that from the +cistern of Amphiaraus, when compared with that from the fountain in +Eretria.</p> +<p>That water is really nutritious is plain from the fact that some +animals are nourished by it alone, as for instance grasshoppers. +And there are many other liquids that are nutritious, such as milk, +barley water, and wine. At all events, animals at the breast are +nourished by milk; and there are many nations who drink nothing but +milk. And it is said that Democritus, the philosopher of Abdera, +after he had determined to rid himself of life on account of his +extreme old age, and after he had begun to diminish his food day by +day, when the day of the Thesmophorian festival came round, and the +women of his household besought him not to die during the festival, +in order that they might not be debarred from their share in the +festivities, was persuaded, and ordered a vessel full of honey to +be set near him: and in this way he lived many days with no other +support than honey; and then some days after, when the honey had +been taken away, he died. But Democritus had always been fond of +honey; and he once answered a man, who asked him how he could live +in the enjoyment of the best health, that he might do so if he +constantly moistened his inward parts with honey, and the outer man +with oil. And bread and honey was the chief food of the +Pythagoreans, according to the statement of Aristoxenus, who says +that those who eat this for breakfast were free from disease all +their lives. And Lycus says that the Cyrneans (a people who live +near Sardinia) are very long-lived, because they are continually +eating honey; and it is produced in great quantities among +them.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="AN_ACCOUNT_OF_SOME_GREAT_EATERS"></a>AN ACCOUNT OF +SOME GREAT EATERS</h2> +<center>From the Deipnosophistæ</center> +<br> +<p>Heraclitus, in his 'Entertainer of Strangers,' says that there +was a woman named Helena who ate more than any other woman ever +did. And Posidippus, in his 'Epigrams,' says that Phuromachus was a +great eater, on whom he wrote this epigram:--</p> +<blockquote>This lowly ditch now holds Phuromachus,<br> +Who used to swallow everything he saw,<br> +Like a fierce carrion crow who roams all night.<br> +Now here he lies wrapped in a ragged cloak.<br> +But, O Athenian, whosoe'er you are,<br> +Anoint this tomb and crown it with a wreath,<br> +If ever in old times he feasted with you.<br> +At last he came <i>sans</i> teeth, with eyes worn out,<br> +And livid, swollen eyelids; clothed in skins,<br> +With but one single cruse, and that scarce full;<br> +Far from the gay Lenæan Games he came,<br> +Descending humbly to Calliope.</blockquote> +<p>Amarantus of Alexandria, in his treatise on the Stage, says that +Herodorus, the Megarian trumpeter, was a man three cubits and a +half in height; and that he had great strength in his chest, and +that he could eat six pounds of bread, and twenty +<i>litræ</i> of meat, of whatever sort was provided for him, +and that he could drink two <i>choes</i> of wine; and that he could +play on two trumpets at once; and that it was his habit to sleep on +only a lion's skin, and when playing on the trumpet he made a vast +noise. Accordingly, when Demetrius the son of Antigonus was +besieging Argos, and when his troops could not bring the battering +ram against the walls on account of its weight, he, giving the +signal with his two trumpets at once, by the great volume of sound +which he poured forth, instigated the soldiers to move forward the +engine with great zeal and earnestness; and he gained the prize in +all the games ten times; and he used to eat sitting down, as Nestor +tells us in his 'Theatrical Reminiscences.' And there was a woman, +too, named Aglais, who played on the trumpet, the daughter of +Megacles, who, in the first great procession which took place in +Alexandria, played a processional piece of music; having a +head-dress of false hair on, and a crest upon her head, as +Posidippus proves by his epigrams on her. And she too could eat +twelve <i>litræ</i> of meat and four <i>choenixes</i> of +bread, and drink a <i>choenus</i> of wine, at one sitting.</p> +<p>There was besides a man of the name of Lityerses, a bastard son +of Midas, the King of Celænæ, in Phrygia, a man of a +savage and fierce aspect, and an enormous glutton. He is mentioned +by Sositheus, the tragic poet, in his play called 'Daphnis' or +'Lityersa'; where he says:--</p> +<blockquote>"He'll eat three asses' panniers, freight and all,<br> +Three times in one brief day; and what he calls<br> +A measure of wine is a ten-amphorae cask;<br> +And this he drinks all at a single draught."</blockquote> +<p>And the man mentioned by Pherecrates, or Strattis, whichever was +the author of the play called 'The Good Men,' was much such +another; the author says:--</p> +<blockquote>"A.--I scarcely in one day, unless I'm forced,<br> + Can eat two bushels and a half of +food.<br> + B.--A most unhappy man! how have you lost<br> + Your appetite, so as now to be +content<br> + With the scant rations of one ship of +war?"</blockquote> +<p>And Xanthus, in his 'Account of Lydia,' says that Cambles, who +was the king of the Lydians, was a great eater and drinker, and +also an exceeding epicure; and accordingly, that he one night cut +up his own wife into joints and ate her; and then, in the morning, +finding the hand of his wife still sticking in his mouth, he slew +himself, as his act began to get notorious. And we have already +mentioned Thys, the king of the Paphlagonians, saying that he too +was a man of vast appetite, quoting Theopompus, who speaks of him +in the thirty-fifth book of his 'History'; and Archilochus, in his +'Tetrameters,' has accused Charilas of the same fault, as the comic +poets have attacked Cleonymus and Pisander. And Phoenicides +mentions Chærippus in his 'Phylarchus' in the following +terms:--</p> +<blockquote>"And next to them I place Chærippus third;<br> +He, as you know, will without ceasing eat<br> +As long as any one will give him food,<br> +Or till he bursts,--such stowage vast has he,<br> +Like any house."</blockquote> +<p>And Nicolaus the Peripatetic, in the hundred and third book of +his 'History,' says that Mithridates, the king of Pontus, once +proposed a contest in great eating and great drinking (the prize +was a talent of silver), and that he himself gained the victory in +both; but he yielded the prize to the man who was judged to be +second to him, namely, Calomodrys, the athlete of Cyzicus. And +Timocreon the Rhodian, a poet and an athlete who had gained the +victory in the pentathlum, ate and drank a great deal, as the +epigram on his tomb shows:--</p> +<blockquote>"Much did I eat, much did I drink, and much<br> +Did I abuse all men; now here I lie:--<br> +My name Timocreon, my country Rhodes."</blockquote> +<p>And Thrasymachus of Chalcedon, in one of his prefaces, says that +Timocreon came to the great king of Persia, and being entertained +by him, did eat an immense quantity of food; and when the king +asked him, What he would do on the strength of it? he said that he +would beat a great many Persians; and the next day having +vanquished a great many, one after another, taking them one by one, +after this he beat the air with his hands; and when they asked him +what he wanted, he said that he had all those blows left in him if +any one was inclined to come on. And Clearchus, in the fifth book +of his 'Lives,' says that Cantibaris the Persian, whenever his jaws +were weary with eating, had his slaves to pour food into his mouth, +which he kept open as if they were pouring it into an empty vessel. +But Hellanicus, in the first book of his Deucalionea, says that +Erysichthon, the son of Myrmidon, being a man perfectly insatiable +in respect of food, was called Æthon. Also Polemo, in the +first book of his 'Treatise addressed to Timæus,' says that +among the Sicilians there was a temple consecrated to gluttony, and +an image of Demeter Sito; near which also there was a statue of +Himalis, as there is at Delphi one of Hermuchus, and as at Scolum +in Boeotia there are statues of Megalartus and Megalomazus.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_LOVE_OF_ANIMALS_FOR_MAN"></a>THE LOVE OF ANIMALS +FOR MAN</h2> +<center>From the 'Deipnosophistæ'</center> +<br> +<p>And even dumb animals have fallen in love with men; for there +was a cock who took a fancy to a man of the name of Secundus, a +cupbearer of the king; and the cock was nicknamed "the Centaur." +This Secundus was a slave of Nicomedes, the king of Bithynia; as +Nicander informs us in the sixth book of his essay on 'The +Revolutions of Fortune.' And at Ægium, a goose took a fancy +to a boy; as Clearchus relates in the first book of his 'Amatory +Anecdotes.' And Theophrastus, in his essay 'On Love,' says that the +name of this boy was Amphilochus, and that he was a native of +Olenus. And Hermeas the son of Hermodorus, who was a Samian by +birth, says that a goose also took a fancy to Lacydes the +philosopher. And in Leucadia (according to a story told by +Clearchus), a peacock fell so in love with a maiden there that when +she died, the bird died too. There is a story also that at Iasus a +dolphin took a fancy to a boy, and this story is told by Duris, in +the ninth book of his 'History'; and the subject of that book is +the history of Alexander, and the historian's words are +these:--</p> +<p>"He likewise sent for the boy from Iasus. For near Iasus there +was a boy whose name was Dionysius, and he once, when leaving the +palæstra with the rest of the boys, went down to the sea and +bathed; and a dolphin came forward out of the deep water to meet +him, and taking him on his back, swam away with him a considerable +distance into the open sea, and then brought him back again to +land."</p> +<p>The dolphin is in fact an animal which is very fond of men, and +very intelligent, and one very susceptible of gratitude. +Accordingly, Phylarchus, in his twelfth book, says:--</p> +<p>"Coiranus the Milesian, when he saw some fishermen who had +caught a dolphin in a net, and who were about to cut it up, gave +them some money and bought the fish, and took it down and put it +back in the sea again. And after this it happened to him to be +shipwrecked near Myconos, and while every one else perished, +Coiranus alone was saved by a dolphin. And when at last he died of +old age in his native country, as it so happened that his funeral +procession passed along the seashore close to Miletus, a great +shoal of dolphins appeared on that day in the harbor, keeping only +a very little distance from those who were attending the funeral of +Coiranus, as if they also were joining in the procession and +sharing in their grief."</p> +<p>The same Phylarchus also relates, in the twentieth book of his +'History,' the great affection which was once displayed by an +elephant for a boy. And his words are these:--</p> +<p>"Now there was a female elephant kept with this elephant, and +the name of the female elephant was Nicaea; and to her the wife of +the king of India, when dying, intrusted her child, which was just +a month old. And when the woman did die, the affection for the +child displayed by the beast was most extraordinary; for it could +not endure the child to be away; and whenever it did not see him, +it was out of spirits. And so, whenever the nurse fed the infant +with milk, she placed it in its cradle between the feet of the +beast; and if she had not done so, the elephant would not take any +food; and after this, it would take whatever reeds and grass there +were near, and, while the child was sleeping, beat away the flies +with the bundle. And whenever the child wept, it would rock the +cradle with its trunk, and lull it to sleep. And very often the +male elephant did the same."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="PER_DANIEL_AMADEUS_ATTERBOM"></a>PER DANIEL AMADEUS +ATTERBOM</h2> +<h3>(1790-1855)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-a.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>mong the leaders of the romantic movement which affected Swedish +literature in the earlier half of the nineteenth century was P.D.A. +Atterbom, one of the greatest lyric poets of his country. He was +born in Ostergöthland, in 1790, and at the age of fifteen was +already so advanced in his studies that he entered the University +of Upsala. There in 1807 he helped to found the "Musis Amici," a +students' society of literature and art; its membership included +Hedbom, who is remembered for his beautiful hymns, and the able and +laborious Palmblad,--author of several popular books, including the +well-known novel 'Aurora Königsmark.' This society soon +assumed the name of the Aurora League, and set itself to free +Swedish literature from French influence. The means chosen were the +study of German romanticism, and a treatment of the higher branches +of literature in direct opposition to the course decreed by the +Academical school. The leaders of this revolution were Atterbom, +eighteen years old, and Palmblad, twenty!</p> +<p>The first organ of the League was the Polyfem, soon replaced by +the Phosphorus (1810-1813), from which the young enthusiasts +received their sobriquet of "Phosphorists." Theoretically this +sheet was given to the discussion of Schelling's philosophy, and of +metaphysical problems in general; practically, to the publication +of the original poetry of the new school. The Phosphorists did a +good work in calling attention to the old Swedish folk-lore, and +awakening a new interest in its imaginative treasures. But their +best service lay in their forcible and earnest treatment of +religious questions, which at that time were most superficially +dealt with.</p> +<p>When the 'Phosphorus' was in its third year the Romanticists +united in bringing out two new organs: the Poetical Calendar +(1812-1822), which published poetry only, and the Swedish Literary +News (1813-1824), containing critical essays of great scientific +value. The Phosphorists, who had shown themselves ardent but not +always sagacious fighters, now appeared at their best, and dashed +into the controversy which was engaging the attention of the +Swedish reading public. This included not only literature, but +philosophy and religion, as well as art. The odds were now on one +side, now on the other. The Academicians might easily have +conquered their youthful opponents, however, had not their +bitterness continually forged new weapons against themselves. In +1820 the Phosphorists wrote the excellent satire, 'Marskall's +Sleepless Nights,' aimed at Wallmark, leader of the Academicians. +Gradually the strife died out, and the man who carried off the +palm, and for a time became the leader of Swedish poetry, was +Tegnèr, who was hardly a partisan of either side.</p> +<p>In 1817 Atterbom had gone abroad, broken down in health by his +uninterrupted studies. While in Germany he entered into a warm +friendship with Schelling and Steffens, and in Naples he met the +Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen, to whose circle of friends he became +attached. On his return he was made tutor of German and literature +to the Crown Prince. In 1828 the Chair of Logics and Metaphysics at +Upsala was offered him, and he held this for seven years, when he +exchanged it for that of Aesthetics. In 1839 he was elected a +member of the Academy whose bitterest enemy he had been, and so the +peace was signed.</p> +<p>Atterbom is undoubtedly the greatest lyrical poet in the ranks +of the Phosphorists. His verses are wonderfully melodious and full +of charm, in spite of the fact that his tendency to the mystical at +times makes him obscure. Among the best of his productions are a +cycle of lyrics entitled 'The Flowers'; 'The Isle of Blessedness,' +a romantic drama of great beauty, published in 1823; and a fragment +of a fairy drama, 'The Blue Bird.' He introduced the sonnet into +Swedish poetry, and did a great service to the national literature +by his critical work, 'Swedish Seers and Poets,' a collection of +biographies and criticisms of poets and philosophers before and +during the reign of Gustavus III. Atterbom's life may be accounted +long in the way of service, though he died at the age of +sixty-five.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_GENIUS_OF_THE_NORTH"></a>THE GENIUS OF THE +NORTH</h2> +<br> +<p>It is true that our Northern nature is lofty and strong. Its +characteristics may well awaken deep meditation and emotion. When +the Goddess of Song has grown up in these surroundings, her view of +life is like that mirrored in our lakes, where, between the dark +shadows of mountain and trees on the shore, a light-blue sky looks +down. Over this mirror the Northern morning and the Northern day, +the Northern evening and the Northern night, rise in a glorious +beauty. Our Muse kindles a lofty hero's flame, a lofty seer's +flame, and always the flame of a lofty immortality. In this sombre +North we experience an immense joyousness and an immense +melancholy, moods of earth-coveting and of earth-renunciation. With +equal mind we behold the fleet, charming dream of her summers, her +early harvest with its quickly falling splendor, and the darkness +and silence of the long winter's sleep. For if the gem-like green +of the verdure proclaims its short life, it proclaims at the same +time its richness,--and in winter the very darkness seems made to +let the starry vault shine through with a glory of Valhalla and +Gimle. Indeed, in our North, the winter possesses an +impressiveness, a freshness, which only we Norsemen understand. Add +to these strong effects of nature the loneliness of life in a wide +tract of land, sparingly populated by a still sparingly educated +people, and then think of the poet's soul which must beat against +these barriers of circumstance and barriers of spirit! Yet the +barriers that hold him in as often help as hinder his striving. +These conditions explain what our literature amply proves; that so +far, the only poetical form which has reached perfection in Sweden +is the lyrical. This will be otherwise only as the northern mind, +through a growing familiarity with contemporaneous Europe, will +consent to be drawn from its forest solitude into the whirl of the +motley World's Fair outside its boundaries. It is probable that the +lyrical gift will always be the true possession of the Swedish +poet. His genius is such that it needs only a beautiful moment's +exaltation (blissful, whether the experience be called joy or +sorrow) to rise on full, free wings, suddenly singing out his very +inmost being. Whether the poet makes this inmost being his subject, +or quite forgets himself in a richer and higher theme, is of little +consequence.</p> +<p>If, again, no true lyric can express a narrow egoism, least of +all could the Swedish, in spite of the indivisible relation between +nature and man. The entire Sämunds-Edda shows us that +Scandinavian poetry was originally lyrical-didactic, as much +religious as heroic. Not only in lyrical impression, but also in +lyrical contemplation and lyrical expression, will the Swedish +heroic poem still follow its earliest trend. Yes, let us believe +that this impulse will some day lead Swedish poetry into the only +path of true progress, to the point where dramatic expression will +attain perfection of artistic form. This development is +foreshadowed already in the high tragic drama, in the view of the +world taken by the old Swedish didactic poem; and in some of the +songs of the Edda, as well as in many an old folk-song and +folk-play.</p> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_LILY_OF_THE_VALLEY"></a> <b>THE +LILY OF THE VALLEY</b></p> +<blockquote>O'er hill and dale the welcome news is flying<br> + That summer's drawing near;<br> +Out of my thicket cool, my cranny hidden,<br> + Around I shyly peer.<br> +<br> +He will not notice me, this guest resplendent,<br> + Unseen I shall remain,<br> +Content to live if of his banquet royal<br> + Some glimpses I may gain.<br> +<br> +Behold! Behold! His banquet hall's before me,<br> + Pillared with forest trees;<br> +Lo! as he feasts, a thousand sunbeams sparkle,<br> + His gracious smiles are these.<br> +<br> +Hail to thee, brilliant world! Ye heavens fretted<br> + With clouds of silver hue!<br> +Ye waves of mighty ocean, tossing, tossing,<br> + Fair in my sight as new!<br> +<br> +Far in the past (if years my life has numbered,<br> + Ghost-like in thought they drift),<br> +Came to me silently the truth eternal--<br> + Joy is life's richest gift.<br> +<br> +Thus, in return for life's abundant dower,<br> + A gift have I: I bear<br> +A spotless soul, from whose unseen recesses<br> + Exhales a fragrance rare.<br> +<br> +Strong is the power in gentle souls indwelling,<br> + Born of a joy divine;<br> +Theirs is a sphere untrod by creatures earthly,<br> + By beings gross, supine.<br> +<br> +Fragile and small, and set in quiet places,<br> + My worth should I forget?<br> +Some one who seeks friend, counselor, or lover,<br> + Will find and prize me yet.<br> +<br> +Thou lovely maid, through mossy pathways straying,<br> + Striving to make thy choice,<br> +Hearing the while the brook which downward leaping,<br> + Lifts up its merry voice,<br> +Pluck me; and as a rich reward I'll whisper<br> + Things them wilt love to hear:<br> +The name of him who comes to win thy favor<br> + I'll whisper in thine ear!</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="SVANHVITS_COLLOQUY"></a> <b>SVANHVIT'S +COLLOQUY</b></p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">From 'The Islands of the Blest'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">SVANHVIT (alone in her chamber)</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">No Asdolf yet,--in vain and everywhere</p> +<p class="i3">Hath he been sought for, since his foaming steed,</p> +<p class="i3">At morn, with vacant saddle, stood before</p> +<p class="i3">The lofty staircase in the castle yard.</p> +<p class="i3">His drooping crest and wildly rolling eye,</p> +<p class="i3">And limbs with frenzied terror quivering,</p> +<p class="i3">All seemed as though the midnight fiends had +urged</p> +<p class="i3">His swiftest flight through many a wood and +plain.</p> +<p class="i3">O Lord, that know'st what he hath witnessed +there!</p> +<p class="i3">Wouldst thou but give one single speaking sound</p> +<p class="i3">Unto the faithful creature's silent tongue,</p> +<p class="i3">That momentary voice would be, for me,</p> +<p class="i3">A call to life or summons to the grave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She goes to the window.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">And yet what childish fears are these! How oft</p> +<p class="i3">Hath not my Asdolf boldest feats achieved</p> +<p class="i3">And aye returned, unharmed and beautiful!</p> +<p class="i3">Yes, beautiful, alas! like this cold flower</p> +<p class="i3">That proudly glances on the frosty pane.</p> +<p class="i3">Short is the violet's, short the cowslip's +spring;--</p> +<p class="i3">The frost-flowers live far longer: cold as they</p> +<p class="i3">The beautiful should be, that it may share</p> +<p class="i3">The splendor of the light without its heat;</p> +<p class="i3">For else the sun of life must soon dissolve</p> +<p class="i3">The hard, cold, shining pearls to liquid tears;</p> +<p class="i3">And tears--flow fast away.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She breathes on the window.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Become transparent, thou fair Asdolf flower,</p> +<p class="i3">That I may look into the vale beneath!</p> +<p class="i3">There lies the city,--Asdolf's capital:</p> +<p class="i3">How wondrously the spotless vest of snow</p> +<p class="i3">On roof, on mount, on market-place now smiles</p> +<p class="i3">A glittering welcome to the morning sun,</p> +<p class="i3">Whose blood-red beams shed beauty on the earth!</p> +<p class="i3">The Bride of Sacrifice makes no lament,</p> +<p class="i3">But smiles in silence,--knowing sadly well</p> +<p class="i3">That she is slighted, and that he, who could</p> +<p class="i3">Call forth her spring, doth not, but rather +dwells</p> +<p class="i3">In other climes, where lavishly he pours</p> +<p class="i3">His fond embracing beams, while she, alas!</p> +<p class="i3">In wintry shade and lengthened loneliness</p> +<p class="i3">Cold on the solitary couch reclines.--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[After a pause.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">What countless paths wind down, from divers +points,</p> +<p class="i3">To yonder city gates!--Oh, wilt not thou,</p> +<p class="i3">My star, appear to me on one of them?</p> +<p class="i3">Whate'er I said,--thou art my worshiped sun.</p> +<p class="i3">Then pardon me;--thou art not cold; oh, no!</p> +<p class="i3">Too warm, too glowing warm, art thou for me.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Yet thus it is! Thy being's music has</p> +<p class="i3">A thousand chords with thousand varying tones,</p> +<p class="i3">Whilst I but one poor sound can offer thee</p> +<p class="i3">Of tenderness and truth. At times, indeed,</p> +<p class="i3">This too may have its power,--but then it lasts</p> +<p class="i3">One and the same forever, sounding still</p> +<p class="i3">Unalterably like itself alone;</p> +<p class="i3">A wordless prayer to God for what we love,</p> +<p class="i3">'Tis more a whisper than a sound, and charms</p> +<p class="i3">Like new-mown meadows, when the grass exhales</p> +<p class="i3">Sweet fragrance to the foot that tramples it.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Kings, heroes, towering spirits among men,</p> +<p class="i3">Rush to their aim on wild and stormy wings,</p> +<p class="i3">And far beneath them view the world, whose form</p> +<p class="i3">For ever varies on from hour to hour.</p> +<p class="i3">What would they ask of love? That, volatile,</p> +<p class="i3">In changeful freshness it may charm their ears</p> +<p class="i3">With proud, triumphant songs, when high in air</p> +<p class="i3">Victorious banners wave; or sweetly lull</p> +<p class="i3">To rapturous repose, when round them roars</p> +<p class="i3">The awful thunder's everlasting voice!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Mute, mean, and spiritless to them must seem</p> +<p class="i3">The maid who is no more than woman. How</p> +<p class="i3">Should she o'er-sound the storm their wings have +raised?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[Sitting down.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Great Lord! how lonely I become within</p> +<p class="i3">These now uncheerful towers! O'er all the earth</p> +<p class="i3">No shield have I,--no mutual feeling left!</p> +<p class="i3">Tis true that those around me all are kind,</p> +<p class="i3">And well I know they love me,--more, indeed,</p> +<p class="i3">Than my poor merits claim. Yet, even though</p> +<p class="i3">They raised me to my Asdolf's royal throne,</p> +<p class="i3">As being the last of all his line,--ah me!</p> +<p class="i3">No solace could it bring;--for then far less</p> +<p class="i3">Might I reveal the sorrow of my soul!</p> +<p class="i3">A helpless maiden's tears like raindrops fall,</p> +<p class="i3">Which in a July night, ere harvest-time,</p> +<p class="i3">Bedew the flowers, and, trembling, stand within</p> +<p class="i3">Their half-closed eyes unnumbered and unknown.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She rises.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Yet One there is, who counts the maiden's +tears;--</p> +<p class="i3">But when will their sad number be fulfilled?--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[Walking to and fro.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">How calm was I in former days!--I now</p> +<p class="i3">Am so no more! My heart beats heavily,</p> +<p class="i3">Oppressed within its prison-cave. Ah! fain</p> +<p class="i3">Would I that it might burst its bonds, so that</p> +<p class="i3">'Twere conscious, Asdolf, I sometimes had seemed</p> +<p class="i3">Not all unworthy in thine eyes.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She takes the guitar.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">A gentle friend--the Master from Vallandia--</p> +<p class="i3">Has taught me how I may converse with thee,</p> +<p class="i3">Thou cherished token of my Asdolf's love!</p> +<p class="i3">I have been told of far-off lakes, around</p> +<p class="i3">Whose shores the cypress and the willow wave,</p> +<p class="i3">And make a mournful shade above the stream.</p> +<p class="i3">Which, dark, and narrow on the surface, swells</p> +<p class="i3">Broad and unfathomably deep below;--</p> +<p class="i3">From these dark lakes at certain times, and most</p> +<p class="i3">On Sabbath morns and eves of festivals.</p> +<p class="i3">Uprising from the depths, is heard a sound</p> +<p class="i3">Most strange and wild, as of the tuneful bells</p> +<p class="i3">Of churches and of castles long since sunk;</p> +<p class="i3">And as the wanderer's steps approach the shore,</p> +<p class="i3">He hears more plainly the lamenting tone</p> +<p class="i3">Of the dark waters, whilst the surface still</p> +<p class="i3">Continues motionless and calm, and seems</p> +<p class="i3">To listen with a melancholy joy,</p> +<p class="i3">While thus the dim mysterious depths resound;</p> +<p class="i3">So let me strive to soften and subdue</p> +<p class="i3">My heart's dark swelling with a soothful song.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She plays and sings.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">The maiden bound her hunting-net</p> +<p class="i6">At morning fresh and fair--</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Ah, no! that lay doth ever make me grieve.</p> +<p class="i3">Another, then! that of the hapless flower,</p> +<p class="i3">Surprised by frost and snow in early spring.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9">[Sings.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Hush thee, oh, hush thee,</p> +<p class="i5">Slumber from snow and stormy sky,</p> +<p class="i6">Lovely and lone one!</p> +<p class="i5">Now is the time for thee to die,</p> +<p class="i5">When vale and streamlet frozen lie.</p> +<p class="i6">Hush thee, oh, hush thee!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Hours hasten onward;--</p> +<p class="i5">For thee the last will soon be o'er.</p> +<p class="i6">Rest thee, oh, rest thee!</p> +<p class="i5">Flowers have withered thus before,--</p> +<p class="i5">And, my poor heart, what wouldst thou more?</p> +<p class="i5"> </p> +<p class="i5">Rest thee, oh, rest thee!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Shadows should darkly</p> +<p class="i5">Enveil thy past delights and woes.</p> +<p class="i6">Forget, oh, forget them!</p> +<p class="i5">'Tis thus that eve its shadows throws;</p> +<p class="i5">But now, in noiseless night's repose,</p> +<p class="i6">Forget, oh, forget them!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Slumber, oh, slumber!</p> +<p class="i5">No friend hast thou like kindly snow;</p> +<p class="i6">Sleep is well for thee,</p> +<p class="i5">For whom no second spring will blow;</p> +<p class="i5">Then why, poor heart, still beating so?</p> +<p class="i6">Slumber, oh, slumber!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Hush thee, oh, hush thee!</p> +<p class="i5">Resign thy life-breath in a sigh,</p> +<p class="i6">Listen no longer,</p> +<p class="i5">Life bids farewell to thee,--then die!</p> +<p class="i5">Sad one, good night!--in sweet sleep lie!</p> +<p class="i6">Hush thee, oh, hush thee!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">[She bursts into tears.]</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Would now that I might bid adieu to life;</p> +<p class="i3">But, ah! no voice to me replies, "Sleep well!"</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="THE_MERMAID"></a> <b>THE +MERMAID</b></p> +<blockquote>Leaving the sea, the pale moon lights the strand.<br> +Tracing old runes, a youth inscribes the sand.<br> +And by the rune-ring waits a woman fair,<br> +Down to her feet extends her dripping hair.<br> +<br> +Woven of lustrous pearls her robes appear,<br> +Thin as the air and as the water clear.<br> +Lifting her veil with milk-white hand she shows<br> +Eyes in whose deeps a deadly fire glows.<br> +<br> +Blue are her eyes: she looks upon him--bound,<br> +As by a spell, he views their gulf profound.<br> +Heaven and death are there: in his desire,<br> +He feels the chill of ice, the heat of fire.<br> +<br> +Graciously smiling, now she whispers low:--<br> +"The runes are dark, would you their meaning know?<br> +Follow! my dwelling is as dark and deep;<br> +You, you alone, its treasure vast shall keep!"<br> +<br> +"Where is your dwelling, charming maid, now say!"<br> +"Built on a coral island far away,<br> +Crystalline, golden, floats that castle free,<br> +Meet for a lovely daughter of the sea!"<br> +<br> +Still he delays and muses, on the strand;<br> +Now the alluring maiden grasps his hand.<br> +"Ah! Do you tremble, you who were so bold?"<br> +"Yes, for the heaving breakers are so cold!"<br> +<br> +"Let not the mounting waves your spirit change!<br> +Take, as a charm, my ring with sea-runes strange.<br> +Here is my crown of water-lilies white,<br> +Here is my harp, with human bones bedight."<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +"What say my Father and my Mother dear?<br> +What says my God, who bends from heaven to hear?"<br> +"Father and Mother in the churchyard lie.<br> +As for thy God, he deigns not to reply."<br> +<br> +Blithely she dances on the pearl-strewn sand,<br> +Smiting the bone-harp with her graceful hand.<br> +Fair is her bosom, through her thin robe seen,<br> +White as a swan beheld through rushes green,<br> +<br> +"Follow me, youth! through ocean deeps we'll rove;<br> +There is my castle in its coral grove;<br> +There the red branches purple shadows throw,<br> +There the green waves, like grass, sway to and fro,<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +"I have a thousand sisters; none so fair.<br> +He whom I wed receives my sceptre rare.<br> +Wisdom occult my mother will impart.<br> +Granting his slightest wish, I'll cheer his heart."<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +"Heaven and earth to win you I abjure!<br> +Child of the ocean, is your promise sure?"<br> +"Heaven and earth abjuring, great's your gain,<br> +Throned with the ancient gods, a king to reign!"<br> +<br> +Lo, as she speaks, a thousand starlights gleam,<br> +Lighted for Heaven's Christmas day they seem.<br> +Sighing, he swears the oath,--the die is cast;<br> +Into the mermaid's arms he sinks at last.<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<br> +<br> +High on the shore the rushing waves roll in.<br> +"Why does the color vary on your skin?<br> +What! From your waist a fish's tail depends!"<br> +"Worn for the dances of my sea-maid friends."<br> +<br> +High overhead, the stars, like torches, burn:<br> +"Haste! to my golden castle I return.<br> +Save me, ye runes!"--"Yes, try them now; they fail.<br> +Pupil of <i>heathen</i> men, my spells prevail!"<br> +<br> +Proudly she turns; her sceptre strikes the wave,<br> +Roaring, it parts; the ocean yawns, a grave.<br> +Mermaid and youth go down; the gulf is deep.<br> +Over their heads the surging waters sweep.<br> +<br> +Often, on moonlight nights, when bluebells ring,<br> +When for their sports the elves are gathering,<br> +Out of the waves the youth appears, and plays<br> +Tunes that are merry, mournful, like his days.</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLLETE"></a>AUCASSIN AND +NICOLLETE</h2> +<h3>(Twelfth Century)</h3> +<h3>BY FREDERICK MORRIS WARREN</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>his charming tale of medieval France has reached modern times in +but one manuscript, which is now in the National Library at Paris. +It gives us no hint as to the time and place of the author, but its +linguistic forms would indicate for locality the borderland of +Champagne and Picardy, while the fact that the verse of the story +is in assonance would point to the later twelfth century as the +date of the original draft. It would thus be contemporaneous with +the last poems of Chrétien de Troyes (1170-80). The author +was probably a minstrel by profession, but one of more than +ordinary taste and talent. For, evidently skilled in both song and +recitation, he so divided his narrative between poetry and prose +that he gave himself ample opportunity to display his powers, while +at the same time he retained more easily, by this variety, the +attention of his audience. He calls his invention--if his invention +it be--a "song-story." The subject he drew probably from +reminiscences of the widely known story of Floire and Blanchefleur; +reversing the parts, so that here it is the hero who is the +Christian, while the heroine is a Saracen captive baptized in her +early years. The general outline of the plot also resembles +indistinctly the plot of Floire and Blanchefleur, though its +topography is somewhat indefinite, and a certain amount of absurd +adventure in strange lands is interwoven with it. With these +exceptions, however, few literary productions of the Middle Ages +can rival 'Aucassin and Nicolette' in graceful sentiment and +sympathetic description.</p> +<p>The Paris manuscript gives the music for the poetical +parts,--music that is little more than a modulation. There is a +different notation for the first two lines, but for the other lines +this notation is repeated in couplets, except that the last line of +each song or <i>laisse</i>--being a half-line--has a cadence of its +own. The lines are all seven syllables in length, save the final +half-lines, and the assonance, which all but the half-lines +observe, tends somewhat towards rhyme.</p> +<p>The story begins with a song which serves as prologue; and then +its prose takes up the narrative, telling how Aucassin, son of +Garin, Count of Beaucaire, so loved Nicolette, a Saracen maiden, +who had been sold to the Viscount of Beaucaire, baptized and +adopted by him, that he had forsaken knighthood and chivalry and +even refused to defend his father's territories against Count +Bougart of Valence. Accordingly his father ordered the Viscount to +send away Nicolette, and he walled her up in a tower of his palace. +Later, Aucassin is imprisoned by his father. But Nicolette escapes, +hears him lamenting in his cell, and comforts him until the warden +on the tower warns her of the approach of the town watch. She flees +to the forest outside the gates, and there, in order to test +Aucassin's fidelity, builds a rustic tower. When he is released +from prison, Aucassin hears from shepherd lads of Nicolette's +hiding-place, and seeks her bower. The lovers, united, resolve to +leave the country. They take ship and are driven to the kingdom of +Torelore, whose queen they find in child-bed, while the king is +with the army. After a three years' stay in Torelore they are +captured by Saracen pirates and separated. Contrary winds blow +Aucassin's boat to Beaucaire, where he succeeds to Garin's estate, +while Nicolette is carried to Carthage. The sight of the city +reminds her that she is the daughter of its king, and a royal +marriage is planned for her. But she avoids this by assuming a +minstrel's garb, and setting sail for Beaucaire. There, before +Aucassin, she sings of her own adventures, and in due time makes +herself known to him. Now in one last strain our story-teller +celebrates the lovers' meeting, concluding with--</p> +<blockquote>"Our song-story comes to an end,<br> +I know no more to tell."</blockquote> +<p>And thus he takes leave of the gentle and courageous maiden.</p> +<p>The whole account of these trials and reunions does not occupy +over forty pages of the original French, which has been best edited +by H. Suchier at Paderborn (second edition, 1881). In 1878, A. Bida +published, with illustrations, a modern French version of the story +at Paris, accompanied by the original text and a preface by Gaston +Paris. This version was translated into English by A. Rodney +Macdonough under the title of 'The Lovers of Provence: Aucassin and +Nicolette' (New York, 1880). Additional illustrations by American +artists found place in this edition. F.W. Bourdillon has published +the original text and an English version, together with an +exhaustive introduction, bibliography, notes, and glossary (London, +1887), and, later in the same year, Andrew Lang wrote out another +translation, accompanied by an introduction and notes: 'Aucassin +and Nicolette' (London). The extracts given below are from Lang's +version, with occasional slight alterations.</p> +<p class="sign"><img src="images/sign-492.png" width="60%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<blockquote><a name="TIS_OF_AUCASSIN_AND_NICOLETTE"></a> <b>'TIS +OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE</b></blockquote> +<blockquote>Who would list to the good lay,<br> +Gladness of the captive gray?<br> +'Tis how two young lovers met,<br> +Aucassin and Nicolette;<br> +Of the pains the lover bore,<br> +And the perils he outwore,<br> +For the goodness and the grace<br> +Of his love, so fair of face.<br> +<br> +Sweet the song, the story sweet,<br> +There is no man hearkens it,<br> +No man living 'neath the sun,<br> +So outwearied, so fordone,<br> +Sick and woeful, worn and sad,<br> +But is healed, but is glad,<br> + 'Tis so sweet.<br> +<br> +So say they, speak they, tell they The Tale,</blockquote> +<p>How the Count Bougart of Valence made war on Count Garin of +Beaucaire,--war so great, so marvelous, and so mortal that never a +day dawned but alway he was there, by the gates and walls and +barriers of the town, with a hundred knights, and ten thousand +men-at-arms, horsemen and footmen: so burned he the Count's land, +and spoiled his country, and slew his men. Now, the Count Garin of +Beaucaire was old and frail, and his good days were gone over. No +heir had he, neither son nor daughter, save one young man only; +such an one as I shall tell you. Aucassin was the name of the +damoiseau: fair was he, goodly, and great, and featly fashioned of +his body and limbs. His hair was yellow, in little curls, his eyes +blue-gray and laughing, his face beautiful and shapely, his nose +high and well set, and so richly seen was he in all things good, +that in him was none evil at all. But so suddenly was he overtaken +of Love, who is a great master, that he would not, of his will, be +a knight, nor take arms, nor follow tourneys, nor do whatsoever him +beseemed. Therefore his father and mother said to him:--</p> +<blockquote>"Son, go take thine arms, mount thine horse, and hold +thy land, and help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more +stoutly will they keep in battle their lives and lands, and thine +and mine."<br> +<br> +"Father," answered Aucassin, "what are you saying now? Never may +God give me aught of my desire, if I be a knight, or mount my +horse, or face stour and battle wherein knights smite and are +smitten again, unless thou give me Nicolette, my true love, that I +love so well."<br> +<br> +"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolette go. A slave +girl is she, out of a strange land, and the viscount of this town +bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath reared +her and had her christened, and made her his god-daughter, and one +day will find a young man for her, to win her bread honorably. +Herein hast thou naught to make nor mend; but if a wife thou wilt +have, I will give thee the daughter of a king, or a count. There is +no man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter, thou +shall have her."<br> +<br> +"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so +high in all the world, that Nicolette, my sweet lady and love, +would not grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or +of Germany, or Queen of France or England, it were little enough +for her; so gentle is she and courteous, and debonnaire, and +compact of all good qualities."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="IMPRISONMENT_OF_NICOLETTE"></a>IMPRISONMENT OF +NICOLETTE</h2> +<br> +<p>When Count Garin of Beaucaire knew that he would not avail to +withdraw Aucassin, his son, from the love of Nicolette, he went to +the viscount of the city, who was his man, and spake to him +saying:--"Sir Count: away with Nicolette, thy daughter in God; +cursed be the land whence she was brought into this country, for by +reason of her do I lose Aucassin, that will neither be a knight, +nor do aught of the things that fall to him to be done. And wit ye +well," he said, "that if I might have her at my will, I would burn +her in a fire, and yourself might well be sore adread."</p> +<p>"Sir," said the Viscount, "this is grievous to me that he comes +and goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maid at mine +own charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my +daughter in God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that +should win her bread honorably. With this had Aucassin, thy son, +naught to make or mend. But sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I +will send her into that land and that country where never will he +see her with his eyes."</p> +<p>"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin: "thence might +great evil come on thee."</p> +<p>So parted they each from the other. Now the Viscount was a right +rich man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in +an upper chamber thereof he had Nicolette placed, with one old +woman to keep her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat +and wine and such things as were needful. Then he had the door +sealed, that none might come in or go forth, save that there was +one window, over against the garden, and quite strait, through +which came to them a little air.</p> +<p><i>Here singeth one</i>:--</p> +<blockquote> Nicolette as ye heard tell<br> + Prisoned is within a cell<br> + That is painted wondrously<br> + With colors of a far countrie.<br> +At the window of marble wrought,<br> +There the maiden stood in thought,<br> +With straight brows and yellow hair,<br> + Never saw ye fairer fair!<br> + On the wood she gazed below,<br> + And she saw the roses blow,<br> + Heard the birds sing loud and low,<br> + Therefore spoke she woefully:<br> + "Ah me, wherefore do I lie<br> + Here in prison wrongfully?<br> + Aucassin, my love, my knight,<br> + Am I not thy heart's delight?<br> + Thou that lovest me aright!<br> + 'Tis for thee that I must dwell<br> + In this vaulted chamber cell,<br> + Hard beset and all alone!<br> + By our Lady Mary's Son<br> + Here no longer will I wonn,<br> + If I may flee!"</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="AUCASSIN_AND_THE_VISCOUNT"></a>AUCASSIN AND THE +VISCOUNT</h2> +<center>[<i>The Viscount speaks first</i>]</center> +<br> +<p>"Plentiful lack of comfort hadst thou got thereby; for in Hell +would thy soul have lain while the world endures, and into Paradise +wouldst thou have entered never."</p> +<p>"In Paradise what have I to win? Therein I seek not to enter, +but only to have Nicolette, my sweet lady that I love so well. For +into Paradise go none but such folk as I shall tell thee now: +Thither go these same old priests, and halt old men and maimed, who +all day and night cower continually before the altars, and in these +old crypts; and such folks as wear old amices, and old clouted +frocks, and naked folks and shoeless, and those covered with sores, +who perish of hunger and thirst, and of cold, and of wretchedness. +These be they that go into Paradise; with them have I naught to +make. But into Hell would I fain go; for into Hell fare the goodly +clerks, and goodly knights that fall in tourneys and great wars, +and stout men-at-arms, and the free men. With these would I liefly +go. And thither pass the sweet ladies and courteous, that have two +lovers, or three, and their lords also thereto. Thither goes the +gold, and the silver, and fur of vair, and fur of gris; and there +too go the harpers, and minstrels, and the kings of this world. +With these I would gladly go, let me but have with me Nicolette, my +sweetest lady."</p> +<br> +<h3>AUCASSIN CAPTURES COUNT BOUGART</h3> +<p>The damoiseau was tall and strong, and the horse whereon he sat +was right eager. And he laid hand to sword, and fell a-smiting to +right and left, and smote through helm and nasal, and arm, and +clenched hand, making a murder about him, like a wild boar when +hounds fall on him in the forest, even till he struck down ten +knights, and seven he hurt; and straightway he hurled out of the +press, and rode back again at full speed, sword in hand. Count +Bougart of Valence heard it said that they were to hang Aucassin, +his enemy, so he came into that place and Aucassin was ware of him. +He gat his sword into his hand, and struck at his helm with such a +stroke that it drave it down on his head, and he being stunned, +fell groveling. And Aucassin laid hands on him, and caught him by +the nasal of his helmet, and gave him up to his father.</p> +<p>"Father," quoth Aucassin, "lo, here is your mortal foe, who hath +so warred on you and done you such evil. Full twenty months did +this war endure, and might not be ended by man."</p> +<p>"Fair son," said his father, "thy feats of youth shouldst them +do, and not seek after folly."</p> +<p>"Father," saith Aucassin, "sermon me no sermons, but fulfill my +covenant."</p> +<p>"Ha! what covenant, fair son?"</p> +<p>"What, father! hast thou forgotten it? By mine own head, +whosoever forgets, will I not forget it, so much it hath me at +heart. Didst thou not covenant with me when I took up arms, and +went into the stour, that if God brought me back safe and sound, +thou wouldst let me see Nicolette, my sweet lady, even so long that +I may have of her two words or three, and one kiss? So didst thou +covenant, and my mind is that thou keep thy word."</p> +<p>"I?" quoth the father; "God forsake me when I keep this +covenant! Nay, if she were here, I would have burned her in the +fire, and thou thyself shouldst be sore adread."</p> +<br> +<h3>THE LOVERS' MEETING</h3> +<p>Aucassin was cast into prison as ye have heard tell, and +Nicolette, of her part, was in the chamber. Now it was summer-time, +the month of May, when days are warm, and long, and clear, and the +nights still and serene. Nicolette lay one night on her bed, and +saw the moon shine clear through a window, and heard the +nightingale sing in the garden, and she minded her of Aucassin her +friend, whom she loved so well. Then fell she to thoughts of Count +Garin of Beaucaire, that he hated her to death; and therefore +deemed she that there she would no longer abide, for that, if she +were told of, and the Count knew where she lay, an ill death he +would make her die. She saw that the old woman was sleeping who +held her company. Then she arose, and clad her in a mantle of silk +she had by her, very goodly, and took sheets of the bed and towels +and knotted one to the other, and made therewith a cord as long as +she might, and knotted it to a pillar in the window, and let +herself slip down into the garden; then caught up her raiment in +both hands, behind and before, and kilted up her kirtle, because of +the dew that she saw lying deep on the grass, and so went on her +way down through the garden.</p> +<p>Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue-gray and +smiling, her face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, +the lips more red than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth +white and small; and her breasts so firm that they bore up the +folds of her bodice as they had been two walnuts; so slim was she +in the waist that your two hands might have clipped her; and the +daisy flowers that brake beneath her as she went tiptoe, and that +bent above her instep, seemed black against her feet and ankles, so +white was the maiden. She came to the postern-gate, and unbarred +it, and went out through the streets of Beaucaire, keeping always +on the shadowy side, for the moon was shining right clear, and so +wandered she till she came to the tower where her lover lay. The +tower was flanked with pillars, and she cowered under one of them, +wrapped in her mantle. Then thrust she her head through a crevice +of the tower, that was old and worn, and heard Aucassin, who was +weeping within, and making dole and lament for the sweet friend he +loved so well. And when she had listened to him some time she began +to say:--</p> +<br> +<p><i>Here one singeth</i>:--</p> +<blockquote>Nicolette, the bright of brow,<br> +On a pillar leaned now,<br> +All Aucassin's wail did hear<br> +For his love that was so dear,<br> +Then the maid spake low and clear:--<br> +"Gentle knight, withouten fear,<br> +Little good befalleth thee,<br> +Little help of sigh or tear.<br> +Ne'er shalt thou have joy of me.<br> +Never shalt thou win me; still<br> +Am I held in evil will<br> +Of thy father and thy kin.<br> +Therefore must I cross the sea,<br> +And another land must win."<br> +Then she cut her curls of gold,<br> +Cast them in the dungeon hold,<br> +Aucassin doth clasp them there,<br> +Kiss'th the curls that were so fair,<br> +Them doth in his bosom bear,<br> +Then he wept, e'en as of old,<br> + All for his love!<br> +<br> +Thus say they, speak they, tell they The Tale.</blockquote> +<br> +<p>When Aucassin heard Nicolette say that she would pass into a far +country, he was all in wrath.</p> +<p>"Fair, sweet friend," quoth he, "thou shalt not go, for then +wouldst thou be my death. And the first man that saw thee and had +the might withal, would take thee straightway into his bed to be +his leman. And once thou earnest into a man's bed, and that bed not +mine, wit ye well that I would not tarry till I had found a knife +to pierce my heart and slay myself. Nay, verily, wait so long I +would not; but would hurl myself so far as I might see a wall, or a +black stone, and I would dash my head against it so mightily that +the eyes would start and my brain burst. Rather would I die even +such a death than know that thou hadst lain in a man's bed, and +that bed not mine."</p> +<p>"Aucassin," she said, "I trow thou lovest me not as much as thou +sayest, but I love thee more than thou lovest me."</p> +<p>"Ah, fair, sweet friend," said Aucassin, "it may not be that +thou shouldest love me even as I love thee. Woman may not love man +as man loves woman; for a woman's love lies in her eye, and the bud +of her breast, and her foot's tiptoe, but the love of a man is in +his heart planted, whence it can never issue forth and pass +away."</p> +<p>Now when Aucassin and Nicolette were holding this parley +together, the town's watchmen were coming down a street, with +swords drawn beneath their cloaks, for Count Garin had charged them +that if they could take her, they should slay her. But the sentinel +that was on the tower saw them coming, and heard them speaking of +Nicolette as they went, and threatening to slay her.</p> +<p>"God," quoth he, "this were great pity to slay so fair a maid! +Right great charity it were if I could say aught to her, and they +perceive it not, and she should be on her guard against them, for +if they slay her, then were Aucassin, my damoiseau, dead, and that +were great pity."</p> +<p><i>Here one singeth</i>:--</p> +<blockquote>Valiant was the sentinel,<br> +Courteous, kind, and practiced well,<br> +So a song did sing and tell,<br> +Of the peril that befell.<br> +"Maiden fair that lingerest here,<br> +Gentle maid of merry cheer,<br> +Hair of gold, and eyes as clear<br> +As the water in a mere,<br> +Thou, meseems, hast spoken word<br> +To thy lover and thy lord,<br> +That would die for thee, his dear;<br> +Now beware the ill accord<br> +Of the cloaked men of the sword:<br> +These have sworn, and keep their word,<br> +They will put thee to the sword<br> + Save thou take heed!"</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<p class="heading"><a name="NICOLETTE_BUILDS_HER_LODGE"></a> +<b>NICOLETTE BUILDS HER LODGE</b></p> +<blockquote>Nicolette, the bright of brow,<br> + From the shepherds doth she pass<br> +All below the blossomed bough<br> + Where an ancient way there was,<br> +Overgrown and choked with grass,<br> +Till she found the cross-roads where<br> +Seven paths do all way fare;<br> +Then she deemeth she will try,<br> +Should her lover pass thereby,<br> +If he love her loyally.<br> +So she gathered white lilies,<br> +Oak-leaf, that in greenwood is,<br> +Leaves of many a branch, iwis,<br> +Therewith built a lodge of green,<br> +Goodlier was never seen.<br> +Swore by God, who may not lie:<br> +"If my love the lodge should spy,<br> +He will rest a while thereby<br> +If he love me loyally."<br> +Thus his faith she deemed to try,<br> +"Or I love him not, not I,<br> + Nor he loves me!"</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<h3>AUCASSIN, SEEKING NICOLETTE, COMES UPON A COWHERD</h3> +<p>Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after +Nicolette, and his horse bare him furiously. Think ye not that the +thorns him spared, nor the briars, nay, not so, but tare his +raiment, that scarce a knot might be tied with the soundest part +thereof, and the blood spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, +in forty places, or thirty, so that behind the Childe men might +follow on the track of his blood in the grass. But so much he went +in thoughts of Nicolette, his lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor +torment, and all the day hurled through the forest in this fashion +nor heard no word of her. And when he saw vespers draw nigh, he +began to weep for that he found her not. All down an old road, and +grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking along the way before him, +he saw such an one as I shall tell you. Tall was he, and great of +growth, ugly and hideous: his head huge, and blacker than charcoal, +and more than the breadth of a hand between his two eyes; and he +had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big nostrils and wide, +and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth yellow and ugly, +and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide, bound with cords +of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great cloak two-fold; +and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin came unto him, +and was afraid when he beheld him.</p> +<br> +<h3>AUCASSIN FINDS NICOLETTE'S LODGE</h3> +<p>So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night +was fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge +of boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, +over and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that +might be seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopped suddenly, +and the light of the moon fell therein.</p> +<p>"Forsooth!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, +and this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness +of it, and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this +night long."</p> +<p>He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed +was great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right +sweet friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his +shoulder out of its place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore; +nathless he bore him with that force he might, and fastened his +horse with the other hand to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, +and crept backwise into the lodge of boughs. And he looked through +a gap in the lodge and saw the stars in heaven, and one that was +brighter than the rest; so began he to say:--</p> +<p><i>Here one singeth</i>:--</p> +<blockquote>"Star, that I from far behold,<br> + Star the moon calls to her fold,<br> +Nicolette with thee doth dwell,<br> + My sweet love, with locks of gold.<br> +God would have her dwell afar,<br> +Dwell with him for evening star.<br> +Would to God, whate'er befell,<br> +Would that with her I might dwell.<br> +I would clip her close and strait;<br> +Nay, were I of much estate,<br> + Some king's son desirable,<br> +Worthy she to be my mate,<br> + Me to kiss and clip me well,<br> + Sister, sweet friend!"<br> +<br> +So speak they, say they, tell they The Tale.</blockquote> +<br> +<p>When Nicolette heard Aucassin, she came to him, for she was not +far away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his +neck, clipped him and kissed him.</p> +<p>"Fair, sweet friend, welcome be thou!"</p> +<p>"And thou, fair, sweet love, be thou welcome!"</p> +<p>So either kissed and clipped the other, and fair joy was them +between.</p> +<p>"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and +my shoulder wried, but I take no heed of it, nor have no hurt +therefrom, since I have thee."</p> +<p>Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its +place. And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought +in her surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back +into its place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves +green, and bound them on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he +was all healed.</p> +<br> +<h3>NICOLETTE SAILS TO CARTHAGE</h3> +<p>When all they of the court heard her speak thus, that she was +daughter to the king of Carthage, they knew well that she spake +truly; so made they great joy of her, and led her to the castle +with great honor, as a king's daughter. And they would have given +her to her lord a king of Paynim, but she had no mind to marry. +There dwelt she three days or four. And she considered by what +device she might seek far Aucassin. Then she got her a viol, and +learned to play on it; till they would have married her one day to +a rich king of Paynim, and she stole forth by night, and came to +the seaport, and dwelt with a poor woman thereby. Then took she a +certain herb, and therewith smeared her head and her face, till she +was all brown and stained. And she had a coat, and mantle, and +smock, and breeches made, and attired herself as if she had been a +minstrel. So took she the viol and went to a mariner, and so +wrought on him that he took her aboard his vessel. Then hoisted +they sail, and fared on the high seas even till they came to the +land of Provence. And Nicolette went forth and took the viol, and +went playing through all the country, even till she came to the +castle of Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.</p> +<p><i>Here singeth one</i>:--</p> +<blockquote>At Beaucaire below the tower<br> +Sat Aucassin on an hour,<br> +Heard the bird, and watched the flower,<br> +With his barons him beside.<br> +Then came on him in that tide<br> +The sweet influence of love<br> +And the memory thereof;<br> +Thought of Nicolette the fair,<br> +And the dainty face of her<br> +He had loved so many years.<br> +Then was he in dule and tears!<br> +Even then came Nicolette;<br> +On the stair a foot she set,<br> +And she drew the viol bow<br> +O'er the strings and chanted so:--<br> +"Listen, lords and knights, to me,<br> +Lords of high or low degree,<br> +To my story list will ye<br> +All of Aucassin and her<br> +That was Nicolette the fair?<br> +And their love was long to tell;<br> +Deep woods through he sought her well:<br> +Paynims took them on a day<br> +In Torelore, and bound they lay.<br> +Of Aucassin naught know we,<br> +But fair Nicolette the free<br> + Now in Carthage doth she dwell;<br> + There her father loves her well,<br> +Who is king of that countrie.<br> +Her a husband hath he found,<br> +Paynim lord that serves Mahound!<br> +Ne'er with him the maid will go,<br> +For she loves a damoiseau,<br> +Aucassin, that ye may know,<br> +Swears to God that never mo<br> +With a lover will she go<br> +Save with him she loveth so<br> +In long desire."</blockquote> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="JOHN_JAMES_AUDUBON"></a>JOHN JAMES AUDUBON</h2> +<h3>(1780-1851)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he fame of this celebrated naturalist rests on one magnificent +book, 'The Birds of America,' for which all his life may be said to +have been a preparation, and which certainly surpasses in interest +every other ornithological publication. For fifteen years before he +thought of making use of his collections in this way, he annually +went alone with his gun and his drawing materials into deep and +unexplored forests and through wild regions of country, making long +journeys on foot and counting nothing a hardship that added to his +specimens. This passion had controlled him from early childhood. +His father, a Frenchman, was living in New Orleans at the time of +Audubon's birth in 1780, and with the view of helping him in his +studies, sent him to Paris when he was fifteen years old, where he +entered the drawing-class of David the painter. He remained there +two years; and it was after his return that he made his memorable +excursions, his home being then a farm at Mill Grove, near +Philadelphia.</p> +<p>In 1808 he removed with his family to the West, still continuing +his researches. Several years later he returned to Philadelphia +with a portfolio of nearly a thousand colored drawings of birds. +What befell them--a parallel to so many like incidents, as through +Warburton's cook, Newton's dog, Carlyle's friend, and Edward +Livingston's fire, that they seem one of the appointed tests of +moral fibre--is best told in Audubon's own language:--</p> +<p>"An accident," he says, "which happened to two hundred of my +original drawings, nearly put a stop to my researches in +ornithology. I shall relate it, merely to show how far +enthusiasm--for by no other name can I call my perseverance--may +enable the preserver of nature to surmount the most disheartening +difficulties. I left the village of Henderson, in Kentucky, +situated on the banks of the Ohio, where I resided for several +years, to proceed to Philadelphia on business. I looked to my +drawings before my departure, placed them carefully in a wooden +box, and gave them in charge of a relative, with injunctions to see +that no injury should happen to them. My absence was of several +months; and when I returned, after having enjoyed the pleasures of +home for a few days, I inquired after my box, and what I was +pleased to call my treasure. The box was produced and opened; but, +reader, feel for me,--a pair of Norway rats had taken possession of +the whole, and reared a young family among the gnawed bits of +paper, which, but a month previous, represented nearly a thousand +inhabitants of air! The burning heat which instantly rushed through +my brain was too great to be endured without affecting my whole +nervous system. I slept not for several nights, and the days passed +like days of oblivion;--until, the animal powers being recalled +into action through the strength of my constitution, I took up my +gun, my note-book, and my pencils, and went forth to the woods as +gayly as if nothing had happened. I felt pleased that I might now +make better drawings than before; and ere a period not exceeding +three years had elapsed, my portfolio was again filled."</p> +<a name="illus0956.jpg"></a><br> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus0956.jpg" width="50%" alt= +""></p> +<br> +<p>In 1826 he sailed for Europe to exhibit his newly collected +treasures to foreign ornithologists. He succeeded in obtaining +pecuniary aid in publishing the work, and plates were made in +England. The book was published in New York in four volumes +(elephant folio) in 1830-39. The birds are life-size. 'The American +Ornithological Biography,' which is the text for the plates, was +published in Edinburgh, 1831-39, in five octavo volumes. +Accompanied by his two sons he started on new excursions, which +resulted in 'The Quadrupeds of America,' with a 'Biography of +American Quadrupeds,' both published at Philadelphia, beginning in +1840. During that year he built a house for himself in the upper +part of New York, in what is now called Audubon Park, and died +there January 27th, 1851.</p> +<p>Audubon's descriptive text is not unworthy of his plates: his +works are far from being mere tenders to picture-books. He is full +of enthusiasm, his descriptions of birds and animals are vivid and +realizing, and his adventures are told with much spirit and +considerable literary skill, though some carelessness of +syntax.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="A_DANGEROUS_ADVENTURE"></a>A DANGEROUS ADVENTURE</h2> +<center>From 'The American Ornithological Biography'</center> +<br> +<p>On my return from the Upper Mississippi, I found myself obliged +to cross one of the wide prairies which, in that portion of the +United States, vary the appearance of the country. The weather was +fine, all around me was as fresh and blooming as if it had just +issued from the bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog, +were all I had for baggage and company. But although well +moccasined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the brilliancy of +the flowers, and the gambols of the fawns around their dams, to all +appearance as thoughtless of danger as I felt myself.</p> +<p>My march was of long duration; I saw the sun sinking beneath the +horizon long before I could perceive any appearance of woodland, +and nothing in the shape of man had I met with that day. The track +which I followed was only an old Indian trace; and, as darkness +overshadowed the prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a +copse, in which I might lie down to rest. The night-hawks were +skimming over and around me, attracted by the buzzing wings of the +beetles which formed their food, and the distant howling of wolves +gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirts of some +woodland.</p> +<p>I did so, and almost at the same instant a fire-light attracting +my eye, I moved toward it, full of confidence that it proceeded +from the camp of some wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I +discovered by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small log +cabin, and that a tall figure passed and repassed between it and +me, as if busily engaged in household arrangements.</p> +<p>I reached the spot, and presenting myself at the door, asked the +tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if I might take shelter +under her roof for the night. Her voice was gruff, and her attire +negligently thrown about her. She answered in the affirmative. I +walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself by the +fire. The next object that attracted my notice was a finely formed +young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows +on his knees. A long bow rested against the log wall near him, +while a quantity of arrows and two or three raccoon skins lay at +his feet. He moved not; he apparently breathed not. Accustomed to +the habits of the Indians, and knowing that they pay little +attention to the approach of civilized strangers (a circumstance +which in some countries is considered as evincing the apathy of +their character), I addressed him in French, a language not +unfrequently partially known to the people in that neighborhood. He +raised his head, pointed to one of his eyes with his finger, and +gave me a significant glance with the other. His face was covered +with blood. The fact was, that an hour before this, as he was in +the act of discharging an arrow at a raccoon in the top of a tree, +the arrow had split upon the cord, and sprung back with such +violence into his right eye as to destroy it forever.</p> +<p>Feeling hungry, I inquired what sort of fare I might expect. +Such a thing as a bed was not to be seen, but many large untanned +bear and buffalo hides lay piled in a corner. I drew a fine +timepiece from my breast, and told the woman that it was late, and +that I was fatigued. She had espied my watch, the richness of which +seemed to operate upon her feelings with electric quickness. She +told me that there was plenty of venison and jerked buffalo meat, +and that on removing the ashes I should find a cake. But my watch +had struck her fancy, and her curiosity had to be gratified by an +immediate sight of it. I took off the gold chain that secured it, +from around my neck, and presented it to her. She was all ecstasy, +spoke of its beauty, asked me its value, and put the chain round +her brawny neck, saying how happy the possession of such a watch +should make her. Thoughtless, and as I fancied myself, in so +retired a spot, secure, I paid little attention to her talk or her +movements. I helped my dog to a good supper of venison, and was not +long in satisfying the demands of my own appetite.</p> +<p>The Indian rose from his seat, as if in extreme suffering. He +passed me and repassed me several times, and once pinched me on the +side so violently that the pain nearly brought forth an exclamation +of anger. I looked at him. His eye met mine; but his look was so +forbidding that it struck a chill into the more nervous part of my +system. He again seated himself, drew his butcher-knife from its +greasy scabbard, examined its edge, as I would do that of a razor +suspected dull, replaced it, and again taking his tomahawk from his +back, filled the pipe of it with tobacco, and sent me expressive +glances whenever our hostess chanced to have her back towards +us.</p> +<p>Never until that moment had my senses been awakened to the +danger which I now suspected to be about me. I returned glance for +glance to my companion, and rested well assured that whatever +enemies I might have, he was not of their number.</p> +<p>I asked the woman for my watch, wound it up, and under pretense +of wishing to see how the weather might probably be on the morrow, +took up my gun, and walked out of the cabin. I slipped a ball into +each barrel, scraped the edges of my flints, renewed the primings, +and returning to the hut, gave a favorable account of my +observations. I took a few bear-skins, made a pallet of them, and +calling my faithful dog to my side, lay down, with my gun close to +my body, and in a few minutes was to all appearance fast +asleep.</p> +<p>A short time had elapsed, when some voices were heard; and from +the corner of my eyes I saw two athletic youths making their +entrance, bearing a dead stag on a pole. They disposed of their +burden, and asking for whisky, helped themselves freely to it. +Observing me and the wounded Indian, they asked who I was, and why +the devil that rascal (meaning the Indian, who, they knew, +understood not a word of English) was in the house. The mother--for +so she proved to be--bade them speak less loudly, made mention of +my watch, and took them to a corner, where a conversation took +place, the purport of which it required little shrewdness in me to +guess. I tapped my dog gently. He moved his tail, and with +indescribable pleasure I saw his fine eyes alternately fixed on me +and raised toward the trio in the corner. I felt that he perceived +danger in my situation. The Indian exchanged a last glance with +me.</p> +<p>The lads had eaten and drunk themselves into such condition that +I already looked upon them as <i>hors tie combat</i>; and the +frequent visits of the whisky bottle to the ugly mouth of their dam +I hoped would soon reduce her to a like state. Judge of my +astonishment, reader, when I saw this incarnate fiend take a large +carving-knife and go to the grindstone to whet its edge. I saw her +pour the water on the turning machine, and watched her working away +with the dangerous instrument, until the cold sweat covered every +part of my body, in spite of my determination to defend myself to +the last. Her task finished, she walked to her reeling sons, and +said, "There, that'll soon settle him! Boys, kill yon--, and then +for the watch."</p> +<p>I turned, cocked my gunlocks silently, touched my faithful +companion, and lay ready to start up and shoot the first one who +might attempt my life. The moment was fast approaching, and that +night might have been my last in the world, had not Providence made +preparations for my rescue. All was ready. The infernal hag was +advancing slowly, probably contemplating the best way of +dispatching me, while her sons should be engaged with the Indian. I +was several times on the point of rising and shooting her on the +spot;--but she was not to be punished thus. The door was suddenly +opened, and there entered two stout travelers, each with a long +rifle on his shoulder. I bounced up on my feet, and making them +most heartily welcome, told them how well it was for me that they +should have arrived at that moment. The tale was told in a minute. +The drunken sons were secured, and the woman, in spite of her +defense and vociferations, shared the same fate. The Indian fairly +danced with joy, and gave us to understand that as he could not +sleep for pain, he would watch over us. You may suppose we slept +much less than we talked. The two strangers gave me an account of +their once having been themselves in a somewhat similar +situation.</p> +<p>Day came, fair and rosy, and with it the punishment of our +captives. They were now quite sobered. Their feet were unbound, but +their arms were still securely tied. We marched them into the woods +off the road, and having used them as Regulators were wont to use +such delinquents, we set fire to the cabin, gave all the skins and +implements to the young Indian warrior, and proceeded, well +pleased, towards the settlements.</p> +<p>During upward of twenty-five years, when my wanderings extended +to all parts of our country, this was the only time at which my +life was in danger from my fellow-creatures. Indeed, so little risk +do travelers run in the United States, that no one born there ever +dreams of any to be encountered on the road, and I can only account +for this occurrence by supposing that the inhabitants of the cabin +were not Americans.</p> +<p>Will you believe, good-natured reader, that not many miles from +the place where this adventure happened, and where fifteen years +ago, no habitation belonging to civilized man was expected, and +very few ever seen, large roads are now laid out, cultivation has +converted the woods into fertile fields, taverns have been erected, +and much of what we Americans call comfort is to be met with! So +fast does improvement proceed in our abundant and free country.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="BERTHOLD_AUERBACH"></a>BERTHOLD AUERBACH</h2> +<h3>(1812-1882)</h3> +<br> +<p class="par"><img src="images/letter-t.png" width="30%" alt= +""></p> +<p>he author of 'Black Forest Village Stories' and 'On the Heights' +stands out in honorable individuality among modern German +novelists, even if the latest fashions in fiction make his work +already a little antiquated. Auerbach's biography is one of +industry rather than of incident. His birth was humble. His life +was long. He wrote voluminously and was widely popular, to be half +forgotten within a decade after his death. He may perhaps be +reckoned the founder of a contemporary German school of +<i>tendenz</i> novel writers; a school now so much diminished that +Spielhagen--who, however, wears Auerbach's mantle with a +difference--is its only survivor.</p> +<p>Of Jewish parentage, his birthplace being Nordstetten, +Würtemberg (1812), Auerbach drifted from preparation for the +synagogue toward law, philosophy, and literature. The study of +Spinoza (whose works he translated) gave form to his convictions +concerning human life. It led him to spend his literary talents on +materials so various as the homely simplicity of peasant scenes and +peasant souls, on the one hand, and on the other the popularization +of a high social and ethical philosophy, specially inculcated +through his larger fictions. His college education was obtained at +Tübingen, Munich, and Heidelberg.</p> +<p>Necessity rather than ambition prompted him to write, and he +wrote as long as he lived. A partial list of his works begins with +a pseudonymous 'Life of Frederick the Great' (1834-36), and 'Das +Judenthum und der Neuste Literatur' (The Jew Element in Recent +Literature: 1836), and passes to the semi-biographic novel +'Spinoza' (1837), afterward supplemented with 'Ein Denkerleben' (A +Thinker's Life), 'Dichter und Kaufman' (Poet and Merchant: +1839),--stories belonging to the 'Ghetto Series,' embodying Jewish +and German life in the time of Moses Mendelssohn; the translation +in five volumes of Spinoza's philosophy, with a critical biography, +1841; and in 1842 another work intended to popularize philosophy, +'Der Gebildete Bürger: ein Buch für den Denkenden +Menschen' (The Clever Townsman: a Book for Thinking Men).</p> +<p class="lft"><img src="images/image-512.png" width="40%" alt= +""><br> +<b>BERTHOLD AUERBACH</b></p> +<p>In 1843 came the first set of the famous 'Schwarzwälder +Dorfgeschichten' (Black Forest Village Stories), followed by a +second group in 1848. These won instant and wide favor, and were +widely translated. They rank among the author's most pleasing and +successful productions, stamped as they are with that truth which a +writer like Auerbach, or a painter like Defregger or Schmidt, can +express when sitting down to deal with the scenes and folk which +from early youth have been photographed upon his heart and memory. +In 1856 there followed in the same descriptive field his +'Barfüssele' (Little Barefoot), 'Joseph im Schnee' (Joseph in +the Snow: 1861), and 'Edelweiss' (1861). His writings of this +date--tales, sketches journalistic, political, and dramatic, and +other papers--reveal Auerbach's varying moods or enthusiasms, +chronicle his residence in different German or Austrian cities, and +are comparatively insignificant among his forty or more volumes. +Nor is much to be said of his first long fiction, 'Neues Leben' +(New Life).</p> +<p>But with 'Auf der Höhe' (On the Heights), a philosophic +romance of court life in the capital and the royal country seat of +a considerable German kingdom (by no means merely imaginary), +inwoven with a minute study of peasant life and character, +Auerbach's popular reputation was established. His plan of making +ethics the chief end of a novel was here exhibited at its best; he +never again showed the same force of conception which got his +imperfect literary art forgiven. Another long novel, not less +doctrinaire in scope, but dealing with quite different materials +and problems, 'Das Landhaus am Rhein' (The Villa on the Rhine), was +issued in 1868; and was followed by 'Waldfried,' a long, patriotic, +and on the whole inert, study of a German family from 1848 until +the close of the Franco-Prussian War.</p> +<p>In spite of his untiring industry, Auerbach produced little more +of consequence, though he wrote a new series of Black Forest +sketches: 'Nach Dreissig Jahren' (After Thirty Years: 1876); 'Der +Forstmeister' (The Head Forester: 1879); and 'Brigitta' (1880). The +close of his life was much embittered by the growth of the +anti-Semitic sentiment; and his residence in Germany was merely +nominal. He died at Cannes, France, in 1882.</p> +<p>'On the Heights' is doubtless Auerbach's best representative. +'The Villa on the Rhine' is in a lower key, with less appealing +types, and less attractive local color. Moreover, it is weighted +with more philosophizing, and its movement is slower. In 'On the +Heights' the emotional situations are strong. In spite of +sentimentality, a true feeling animates its technique. The +atmosphere of a German royal residence, as he reveals it, appears +almost as heavy as the real thing. Auerbach's humor is leaden; he +finds it necessary to explain his own attempts at it. But the +peasant-nurse Walpurga, her husband Hansei, and the aged +grandmother in the family, are admirable delineations. The heroine, +Irma von Wildenort, is genuinely human. The story of her abrupt +atonement for a lapse from her better self, the gradual process of +her fantastic expiation and of her self-redemption,--through the +deliberate sacrifice of all that belongs to her treacherous +past,--her successful struggle into a high ethical life and +knowledge of herself (the element which gives the book its force), +offer much that is consistent, and appealing and elevating to the +conscience.</p> +<p>Auerbach crowds material into the book, tangles up too many +different skeins of plot, offers too many types to study and +interests to follow, and betrays a want of perspective in its +construction. But in spite of all its defects it is a novel that +should not be forgotten. For reflective readers it will always hold +a charm, and its latent strength is proved by its triumph over its +own faults.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_FIRST_MASS"></a>THE FIRST MASS</h2> +<center>From "Ivo the Gentleman," in "Black Forest Village +Stories"</center> +<br> +<p>One Saturday afternoon the busy sound of hammer and adze was +heard on the green hill-top which served the good folks of +Nordstetten as their open-air gathering-place. Valentine the +carpenter, with his two sons, was making a scaffolding, designed to +serve no less a purpose than that of an altar and a pulpit. +Gregory, the son of Christian the tailor, was to officiate at his +first mass and preach his first sermon.</p> +<p>Ivo, Valentine's youngest son, a child of six years of age, +assisted his father with a mien which betokened that he considered +his services indispensable. With his bare head and feet he ran up +and down the timbers as nimbly as a squirrel. When a beam was being +lifted, he cried, "Pry under!" as lustily as any one, put his +shoulder to the crowbar, and puffed as if nine-tenths of the weight +fell upon him. Valentine liked to see his little boy employed. He +would tell him to wind the twine on the reel, to carry the tools +where they were wanted, or to rake the chips into a heap. Ivo +obeyed all these directions with the zeal and devotion of a +self-sacrificing patriot. Once, when he perched upon the end of a +plank for the purpose of weighing it down, the motion of the saw +shook his every limb, and made him laugh aloud in spite of himself; +he would have fallen off but for the eagerness with which he held +on to his position and endeavored to perform his task in the most +workmanlike manner.</p> +<p>At last the scaffolding was finished. Lewis the saddler was +ready to nail down the carpets and hanging. Ivo offered to help him +too; but being gruffly repelled, he sat down upon his heap of +chips, and looked at the mountains, behind which the sun was +setting in a sea of fire. His father's whistle aroused him, and he +ran to his side.</p> +<p>"Father," said Ivo, "I wish I was in Hochdorf."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"Because it's so near to heaven, and I should like to climb up +once."</p> +<p>"You silly boy, it only seems as if heaven began there. From +Hochdorf it is a long way to Stuttgart, and from there it is a long +way to heaven yet.</p> +<p>"How long?"</p> +<p>"Well, you can't get there until you die."</p> +<p>Leading his little son with one hand, and carrying his tools in +the other, Valentine passed through the village. Washing and +scouring was going on everywhere, and chairs and tables stood +before the houses,--for every family expected visitors for the +great occasion of the morrow.</p> +<p>As Valentine passed Christian the tailor's, he held his hand to +his cap, prepared to take it off if anybody should look out. But +nobody did so: the place was silent as a cloister. Some farmers' +wives were going in, carrying bowls covered with their aprons, +while others passed out with empty bowls under their arms. They +nodded to each other without speaking: they had brought +wedding-presents for the young clergyman, who was to be married to +his bride--the Church.</p> +<p>As the vesper-bell rang, Valentine released the hand of his son, +who quickly folded his hands; Valentine also brought his hands +together over his heavy tools and said an Ave.</p> +<p>Next morning a clear, bright day rose upon the village. Ivo was +dressed by his mother betimes in a new jacket of striped Manchester +cloth, with buttons which he took for silver, and a newly-washed +pair of leathern breeches. He was to carry the crucifix. Gretchen, +Ivo's eldest sister, took him by the hand and led him into the +street, "so as to have room in the house." Having enjoined upon him +by no means to go back, she returned hastily. Wherever he came he +found the men standing in knots in the road. They were but half +dressed for the festival, having no coats on, but displaying their +dazzling white shirt-sleeves. Here and there women or girls were to +be seen running from house to house without bodices, and with their +hair half untied. Ivo thought it cruel in his sister to have pushed +him out of the house as she had done. He would have been delighted +to have appeared like the grown folks,--first in negligee, and then +in full dress amid the tolling of bells and the clang of trumpets; +but he did not dare to return, or even to sit down anywhere, for +fear of spoiling his clothes. He went through the village almost on +tiptoe. Wagon after wagon rumbled in, bringing farmers and farmers' +wives from abroad; at the houses people welcomed them, and brought +chairs to assist them in getting down. All the world looked as +exultingly quiet and glad as a community preparing to receive a +hero who had gone forth from their midst and was returning after a +victory. From the church to the hill-top the road was strewn with +flowers and grass, which sent forth aromatic odors. The squire was +seen coming out of Christian the tailor's, and only covered his +head when he found himself in the middle of the street. Soges had a +new sword, brightly japanned and glittering in the sun.</p> +<p>The squire's wife soon followed, leading her daughter Barbara, +who was but six years old, by the hand. Barbara was dressed in +bridal array. She wore the veil and the wreath upon her head, and a +beautiful gown. As an immaculate virgin, she was intended to +represent the bride of the young clergyman, the Church.</p> +<p>At the first sound of the bell the people in shirt-sleeves +disappeared as if by magic. They retired to their houses to finish +their toilet: Ivo went on to the church.</p> +<p>Amid the ringing of all the bells, the procession at last issued +from the church-door. The pennons waved, the band of music brought +from Horb struck up, and the audible prayers of the men and women +mingled with the sound. Ivo, with the schoolmaster at his side, +took the lead, carrying the crucifix. On the hill the altar was +finely decorated; the chalices and the lamps and the spangled +dresses of the saints flashed in the sun, and the throng of +worshipers covered the common and the adjoining fields as far as +the eye could reach. Ivo hardly took courage to look at the +"gentleman," meaning the young clergyman, who, in his gold-laced +robe, and bare head crowned with a golden wreath, ascended the +steps of the altar with pale and sober mien, bowing low as the +music swelled, and folding his small white hands upon his breast. +The squire's Barbara, who carried a burning taper wreathed with +rosemary, had gone before him and took her stand at the side of the +altar. The mass began; and at the tinkling of the bell all fell +upon their faces, and not a sound would have been heard, had not a +flight of pigeons passed directly over the altar with that +fluttering and chirping noise which always accompanies their motion +through the air. For all the world Ivo would not have looked up +just then; for he knew that the Holy Ghost was descending, to +effect the mysterious transubstantiation of the wine into blood and +the bread into flesh, and that no mortal eye can look upon Him +without being struck with blindness.</p> +<p>The chaplain of Horb now entered the pulpit, and solemnly +addressed the "permitiant."</p> +<p>Then the latter took his place. Ivo sat near by, on a stool; +with his right arm resting on his knee, and his chin upon his hand, +he listened attentively. He understood little of the sermon; but +his eyes hung upon the preacher's lips, and his mind followed his +intentions if not his thoughts.</p> +<p>When the procession returned to the church amid the renewed peal +of the bells and triumphant strains of music, Ivo clasped the +crucifix firmly with both his hands; he felt as if new strength had +been given him to carry his God before him.</p> +<p>As the crowd dispersed, every one spoke in raptures of the +"gentleman" and of the happiness of the parents of such a son. +Christian the tailor and his wife came down the covered stairs of +the church-hill in superior bliss. Ordinarily they attracted little +attention in the village; but on this occasion all crowded around +them with the greatest reverence, to present their +congratulations.</p> +<p>The young clergyman's mother returned thanks with tearful eyes; +she could scarcely speak for joyous weeping. Ivo heard his cousin, +who had come over from Rexingen, say that Gregory's parents were +now obliged to address their son with the formal pronoun "they," by +which strangers and great personages are spoken to, instead of the +simple "thee and thou," by which German villagers converse with +each other.</p> +<p>"Is that so, mother?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Of course," was the answer: "he's more than other folks +now."</p> +<p>With all their enthusiasm, the good people did not forget the +pecuniary advantage gained by Christian the tailor. It was said +that he need take no further trouble all his life. Cordele, +Gregory's sister, was to be her brother's housekeeper, and her +brother was a fortune to his family and an honor to all the +village.</p> +<p>Translation of Charles Goepp.</p> +<p>The following passages from "On the Heights" are reprinted by +consent of Henry Holt & Co., holders of the copyright of the +translation.</p> +<br> +<h2><a name="THE_PEASANT-NURSE_AND_THE_PRINCE"></a>THE +PEASANT-NURSE AND THE PRINCE</h2> +<p>"There, my boy! Now you've seen the sun. May you see it for +seven and seventy years to come, and when they've run their course, +may the Lord grant you a new lease of life. Last night they lit +millions of lamps for your sake. But they were nothing to the sun +up in heaven, which the Lord himself lighted for you this very +morning. Be a good boy, always, so that you may deserve to have the +sun shine on you. Yes, now the angel's whispering to you. Laugh +while you sleep! That's right. There's one angel belongs to you on +earth, and that's your mother! And you're mine, too! You're mine, +indeed!"</p> +<p>Thus spake Walpurga, the nurse, her voice soft, yet full of +emotion, while she gazed into the face of the child that lay in her +lap. Her soul was already swayed by that mysterious bond of +affection which never fails to develop itself in the heart of the +foster-mother. It is a noble trait in human nature, that we love +those on whom we can confer a kindness. Their whole life gradually +becomes interwoven with our own.</p> +<p>Walpurga became oblivious of herself and of all that was dear to +her in the cottage by the lake. She was now needed here, where a +young life had been assigned to her loving-charge.</p> +<p>She looked up at Mademoiselle Kramer, with beaming eyes, and met +a joyful glance in return.</p> +<p>"It seems to me," said Walpurga, "that a palace is just like a +church. One has only good and pious thoughts here; and all the +people are so kind and frank."</p> +<p>Mademoiselle Kramer suddenly smiled and replied:--</p> +<p>"My dear child--"</p> +<p>"Don't call me 'child'! I'm not a child! I'm a mother!"</p> +<p>"But here, in the great world, you are only a child. A court is +a strange place. Some go hunting, others go fishing; one builds, +another paints; one studies a rôle, another a piece of music; +a dancer learns a new step, an author writes a new book. Every one +in the land is doing something--cooking or baking, drilling or +practicing, writing, painting, or dancing--simply in order that the +king and queen may be entertained."</p> +<p>"I understand you," said Walpurga; and Mademoiselle Kramer +continued:--</p> +<p>"My family has been in the service of the court for sixteen +generations;"--six would have been the right number, but sixteen +sounded so much better;--"my father is the governor of the summer +palace, and I was born there. I know all about the court, and can +teach you a great deal."</p> +<p>"And I'll be glad to learn," interposed Walpurga.</p> +<br> +<h3>End of Volume II</h3> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12788 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12788-h/images/illus0485.jpg b/12788-h/images/illus0485.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aecc45 --- /dev/null +++ b/12788-h/images/illus0485.jpg diff --git a/12788-h/images/illus0485i.jpg b/12788-h/images/illus0485i.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca6c632 --- /dev/null +++ b/12788-h/images/illus0485i.jpg diff --git a/12788-h/images/illus0500.jpg b/12788-h/images/illus0500.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..164b50b --- /dev/null +++ b/12788-h/images/illus0500.jpg diff --git a/12788-h/images/illus0622.jpg b/12788-h/images/illus0622.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd60c9e --- /dev/null +++ b/12788-h/images/illus0622.jpg diff --git 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