92	The	Voice	of	the	People
	In	a	moment	Juliet	called	him	to	her	side	and	laid
	her	hand	upon	his	arm.	"	He	has	promised	not
	to	rob	birds'	nests	and	to	love	me	always,"	she	said.
	But	the	young	men	only	laughed.
	"	Ask	something	harder,"	retorted	one.	"	Any	of
	us	will	do	that.	Ask	him	to	stand	on	his	head	or	to
	tie	himself	into	a	bow	knot	for	your	sake."
	Nicholas	reddened	angrily,	but	Juliet	told	the	jes-
	ter	to	try	such	experiments	himself	that	she	did	not
	want	a	contortionist	about.	Then	she	bent	over	the
	boy	as	he	said	good-bye,	and	he	went	down	the
	walk	between	the	lilies	and	out	into	the	lane.
	He	recrossed	the	green	slowly,	turning	into	the
	main	street	at	the	court-house	steps.	As	he	passed
	the	church,	a	little	further	on,	the	iron	gate	opened
	and	the	rector	came	out,	jingling	the	heavy	keys	in
	his	hand	as	he	talked	amicably	to	a	tourist	who	fol-
	lowed	upon	his	heels.
	"	Yes,	my	good	sir,"	he	was	saying	in	his	high-
	pitched,	emphatic	utterance,	"	this	dear	old	church-
	yard	is	never	mowed	except	by	living	lawn-mowers.
	I	assure	you	that	I	have	seen	thirty	heads	of	cattle
	upon	the	vaults	positively,	thirty	heads,	sir	!	"
	But	the	boy's	thoughts	were	far	from	the	church
	and	its	rector,	and	the	words	sifted	rapidly	through
	his	brain.	He	touched	his	hat	at	the	tourist's	greet-
	ing	and	smiled	into	the	clergyman's	face,	but	his
	actions	were	automatic.	He	would	have	nodded	to
	the	horse	in	the	street	or	have	smiled	at	the	sun.
	As	he	passed	the	small	shops	fronting	on	the	nar-
	row	sidewalk	and	followed	the	whitewashed	fence
	of	the	college	grounds	until	it	ended	at	the	Old
	Stage	Road,	he	was	conscious	of	the	keen,	pulsating


CRITIQUE	OF	PURE	REASON	85
	so	far	as	we	presuppose	that	there	exist	things,	which	can
	only	be	represented	conformably	to	the	form	of	our	pure	sensu
	ous	intuition.	But	things	in	space	and	time	are	given,	only	in
	so	far	as	they	are	perceptions	(representations	accompanied
	with	sensation),	therefore	only	by	empirical	representation.
	Consequently	the	pure	conceptions	of	the	understanding,	even
	when	they	are	applied	to	intuitions	a	priori	(as	in	mathematics),
	produce	cognition	only	in	so	far	as	these	(and	therefore	the
	conceptions	of	the	understanding	by	means	of	them),	can	be
	applied	to	empirical	intuitions.	Consequently	the	categories	do
	not,	even	by	means	of	pure	intuition,	afford	us	any	cognition
	of	things	;	they	can	only	do	so	in	so	far	as	they	can	be	applied
	to	empirical	intuition.	That	is	to	say,	the	categories	serve	only
	to	render	empirical	cognition	possible.	But	this	is	what	we	call
	experience.	Consequently,	in	cognition,	their	application	to
	objects	of	experience	is	the	only	legitimate	use	of	the	categories.
	The	foregoing	proposition	is	of	the	utmost	importance,	for
	it	determines	the	limits	of	the	exercise	of	the	pure	conceptions
	of	the	understanding	in	regard	to	objects,	just	as	transcen
	dental	aesthetic	determined	the	limits	of	the	exercise	of	the
	pure	form	of	our	sensuous	intuition.	Space	and	time,	as	con
	ditions	of	the	possibility	of	the	presentation	of	objects	to	us,
	are	valid	no	further	than	for	objects	of	sense,	consequently,	only
	for	experience.	Beyond	these	limits	they	represent	to	us	noth
	ing,	for	they	belong	only	to	sense,	and	have	no	reality	apart
	from	it.	The	pure	conceptions	of	the	understanding	are	free
	from	this	limitation,	and	extend	to	objects	of	intuition	in	gen
	eral,	be	the	intuition	like	or	unlike	to	ours,	provided	only	it	be
	sensuous,	and	not	intellectual.	But	this	extension	of	concep
	tions	beyond	the	range	of	our	intuition	is	of	no	advantage	;	for
	they	are	then	mere	empty	conceptions	of	objects,	as	to	the	possi
	bility	or	impossibility	of	the	existence	of	which	they	furnish
	us	with	no	means	of	discovery.	They	are	mere	forms	of
	thought,	without	objective	reality,	because	we	have	no	intuition
	to	which	the	synthetical	unity	of	apperception,	which	alone	the
	categories	contain,	could	be	applied,	for	the	purpose	of	deter
	mining	an	object.	Our	sensuous	and	empirical	intuition	can
	alone	give	them	significance	and	meaning.
	If,	then,	we	suppose	an	object	of	a	non-sensuous	intuition
	to	be	given,	we	can	in	that	case	represent	it	by	all	those	predi
	cates,	which	are	implied	in	the	presupposition	that	nothing


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CONTENTMENT	107
	There	was	a	twinkle	in	his	eye:	then	we
	both	laughed.	"He	s	all	right,"	I	said	to
	myself.	I	held	up	my	hands,	then	he	held
	up	his:	it	was	hardly	necessary	to	prove
	that	wagon-greasing	was	not	a	delicate
	operation.
	"	It	s	a	good	wholesome	sign,"	I	said,	"but
	it	11	come	off.	Do	you	happen	to	remember
	a	story	of	Tolstoi	s	called	Ivan	the	Fool	?"
	("What	is	a	farmer	doing	quoting	Tolstoi!	"
	remarked	his	countenance	though	he	said
	not	a	word.)
	"In	the	kingdom	of	Ivan,	you	remember,"
	I	said,	"it	was	the	rule	that	whoever	had
	hard	places	on	his	hands	came	to	table,	but
	whoever	had	not	must	eat	what	the	others
	left."
	Thus	I	led	him	up	to	the	back	steps	and
	poured	him	a	basin	of	hot	water	-	-	which	I
	brought	myself	from	the	kitchen,	Harriet
	having	marvellously	and	completely	disap
	peared.	We	both	washed	our	hands,	talking
	with	great	good	humour.
	When	we	had	finished	I	said:
	"Sit	down,	friend,	if	you	ve	time,	and	let	s
	talk."
	So	he	sat	down	on	one	of	the	logs	of	my


INTRODUCTION
	writers	have	ever	equaled	David,	Homer,	vEschylus,	Sophocles,
	Euripides,	Virgil,	Dante,	Shakespeare	or	Milton.
	Since	poetry	is	the	first	of	the	great	classes	of	literature,	both
	in	order	of	time	and	rank,	we	shall	begin	our	present	study	of
	literary	types	with	this	class.
	The	Great	Classes	of	Poetry.	Poetry	is	usually	divided	into
	three	great	classes,	according	to	whether	it	tells	a	story,	voices
	the	author's	own	thoughts	and	feelings,	or	portrays	life	and	char
	acter	through	action.	These	classes	are	narrative,	lyric,	and
	dramatic	poetry.
	Minor	Forms	of	Poetry.	There	are	also	three	minor	forms
	that	are	sometimes	distinguished.	These	are	descriptive,	didactic,
	and	satiric	poetry.	As	regards	the	first	of	these	classes,	however,
	description	enters	so	largely	into	the	composition	of	all	of	the
	other	forms	of	poetry,	that	it	is	scarcely	worth	while	to	try	to
	make	a	separate	classification.	Although	the	names	idyl	and	pas
	toral	are	applied	where	there	is	a	"little	picture"	or	a	descrip
	tion	of	country	or	shepherd	life,	yet	such	descriptions	usually
	form	only	a	part	of	some	narrative,	lyric,	or	even	dramatic	poem.
	For	instance,	Milton's	"Lycidas"	is	not	only	the	finest	pastoral	in
	English	literature,	but	it	is	also	an	elegy,	one	of	the	types	of	lyric
	poetry;	and	Tennyson's	"Dora"	is	both	an	idyl	and	a	metrical	tale,
	a	type	of	narrative	poetry.
	As	regards	the	other	minor	forms,	didactic	and	satiric	poetry,
	still	less	may	be	said.	These	are	not,	strictly	speaking,	true
	poetry,	even	though	they	are	in	the	poetic	form.	Their	purpose
	is	not	to	serve	the	needs	of	our	higher	natures,	but	to	give	in
	struction,	or	to	criticize	and	ridicule.	The	best	known	examples
	of	didactic	poetry,	Pope's	"Essay	on	Man"	and	"Essay	on	Criti
	cism,	'	'	would	probably	have	been	better	if	they	had	been	in	prose	;
	and	such	satiric	poems	as	Pope's	"Dunciad"	and	Byron's	"Eng
	lish	Bards	and	Scotch	Reviewers,"	though	given	in	rhyme,	do	not
	possess	truly	poetic	qualities.
	In	this	study	of	literary	types,	therefore,	we	shall	consider
	only	the	three	great	classes	of	poetry	and	their	sub-divisions.


THE	CARE	OF	THE	HOUSE	137
	A	storage	cabinet	for	cleaning	supplies	is	very	con-
	venient.	If	this	is	placed	near	the	sink,	it	will	be	very
	handy.	You	will	need	to	keep	in	this	such	cleaning	sup-
	plies	as	abrasives,	soaps,	ammonia,	Brillo	and	steel	wool,
	alkaline	reagents,	silver	polish,	water	softeners,	furniture
	polish,	and	liquid	wax.
	You	will	also	want	a	cabinet	where	you	may	keep	the
	broom,	dustpan,	dust	mop,	mop,	dust	cloths,	and	brushes
	for	the	radiator,	furniture,	and	general	utility.
	A	towel	drier	is	another	convenient	piece	of	equipment
	to	have,	so	that	you	may	hang	up	your	towels	to	dry.
	There	are	various	kinds,	among	which	are	the	rods,	wall
	clothes-rack,	priscilla	drier,	and	the	folding	rack.
	The	last	center	to	consider	is	the	planning	group.	This
	one	is	usually	neglected	in	most	homes,	and	yet	it	is	quite
	essential.	It	does	not	take	up	much	room	and	often	can
	be	included	by	bringing	it	to	the	attention	of	your	mother.
	It	may	consist	of	nothing	more	than	a	hanging	shelf	on
	which	can	be	kept	the	cookbooks,	a	card	file	for	menus,
	the	order	list,	and	the	bills.	Some	of	you	may	wonder
	what	it	is	for,	but	most	of	you	see	clearly	that	it	enables
	mother	to	plan	her	menus,	to	look	up	recipes,	to	make	out
	her	order	lists	and	to	keep	her	household	food	accounts
	in	a	much	more	systematic	and	efficient	manner.	When
	this	center	is	located	in	the	kitchen,	you	are	able	to	carry
	out	these	duties	more	thoughtfully	and	more	easily.	You
	will	all	enjoy	planning	an	ideal	kitchen	and	carrying	out
	these	ideas	for	efficiency	by	setting	up	one	in	school.
	',The	life	of	kitchen	equipment	will	be	lengthened	if	it	is
	iven	proper	care.	There	is	always	a	right	and	wrong
	way	for	doing	everything,	and	you	will	want	to	know	how
	to	keep	your	kitchen	equipment	in	a	spotless	condition.
	Now	that	there	are	two	types	of	refrigerators	in	use,	you
	should	learn	to	care	for	them	both.	However,	both	should


YOUR	HOME	AND	FAMILY
	TYPES	OF	BREAKFASTS	Continued
	FOODS	INCLUDED
	Fruit
	Cereal
	Egg
	Bread
	Beverage
	HEAVY
	SUGGESTED	MENU
	Orange	Juice	I
	Shredded	Wheat	2.
	Scrambled	Eggs	and	Bacon	Curls
	Toast	4
	Coffee	'
	RECIPES
	Accuracy	in	reading	and	following	recipes	from	reliable
	sources	insures	good	results.	As	you	know,	a	recipe	is
	the	name	given	the	direc-
	tions	for	the	preparation
	of	a	food,	and	the	in-
	gredients	are	the	foods
	used	to	make	up	a	recipe.
	A	recipe	should	be	thor-
	oughly	understood	and
	all	necessary	ingredients
	and	utensils	assembled
	before	beginning	to	work.
	In	order	to	follow	a	recipe
	accurately	all	measure-
	ments	should	be	level
	and	exact.	Flour	should
	always	be	sifted	before
	measuring.
	ALL
	MEASUREMENTS
	LEVEL
	SHOULD	BE
	The	following	abbreviations	are	used	in	recipes	:
	tsp.	teaspoon
	tb.	tablespoon
	c.	cup
	pt.	pint
	qt.	quart
	gal.	gallon
	Ib.	pound
	oz.
	ounce
	f-g-
	few	grains
	min.
	minute
	hr.
	hour
	pk.
	bu.
	peck
	bushel


MEAL	PLANNING	AND	PREPARATION	173
	crumbs,	3	tb.	sugar,	and	i	tb.	cinnamon.	Bake	in	a
	moderate	oven	(350-375	F.)	about	25	minutes.	Chopped
	nuts	may	be	added	to	the	top,	if	desired.
	GRAHAM	MUFFINS
	i	c.	graham	flour	3	tsp.	baking	powder
	i	c.	flour	i	egg
	J-	c.	sugar	i	c.	milk
	^	tsp.	salt	i	tb.	melted	butter
	Mix	and	sift	all	dry	ingredients	together,	except	the
	graham	flour.	Look	over	the	graham	flour	and	add	it	to
	the	dry	ingredients.	Add	the	well-beaten	egg	to	the	milk
	and	add	slowly	to	the	dry	ingredients,	stirring	constantly.
	Add	melted	butter,	when	cool.	Bake	in	greased	muffin
	tins	for	20-30	min.	in	a	moderate	oven	(350-375	F.).
	SCRAMBLED	EGGS
	Use	three	eggs	for	every	two	people.	Beat	the	eggs
	slightly	until	the	whites	and	yolks	are	well	mixed.	Season
	with	salt	and	pepper	and	add	one	tablespoon	of	milk	or
	cream	for	each	egg.	Heat	a	frying	pan,	using	i	teaspoon
	of	butter	for	each	egg.	Pour	the	egg	mixture	into	the
	hot	fat	and	cook	slowly,	stirring	constantly,	until	the
	eggs	are	firm	and	moist.	Serve	at	once.
	BACON	CURLS
	Use	thin	slices	of	bacon	from	which	the	rind	has	been
	removed.	Put	in	a	heavy	frying	pan	and,	during	the
	cooking,	roll	each	slice	of	bacon	around	the	tines	of	a	fork.
	Push	the	curl	off	the	fork	with	a	knife.	When	brown,
	drain	on	brown	unglazed	paper.
	COCOA
	3	tb.	cocoa	3	tb.	sugar
	i	c.	water	3	c.	milk
	i	tsp.	cornstarch	|	tsp.	salt


INDEX
	ADAM	(ROBERT)	FURNITURE,	12-14
	Afternoon	tea,	326-329
	Air-tight	containers,	132
	Aluminum,	36;	pans,	cleaning	of,	141
	American	Home	Economics	Asso-
	ciation,	40
	Apartments,	28
	Appetizers,	199,	220
	Apple	betty,	recipe	for,	188
	Apples,	baked,	recipe	for,	172
	Architecture,	Colonial,	7-10;	modern,
	27,	28
	Au	gratin	spinach,	recipe	for,	209
	BABY,	bathing,	71-75;	clothing,	75-
	81;	food,	78-86;	feeding,	84;
	weaning,	84;	sleep,	86,	87	;	nursery,
	87-89;	regular	routine	of	health
	habits	for,	89;	regular	gain	in
	weight	necessary	for,	89;	consulta-
	tion	of	doctor	for,	89;	diseases,	89;
	play,	89,	90
	Bacon	curls,	recipe	for,	173,	174
	Bacteria,	236,	237
	Baked	Alaska,	recipe	for,	213
	Baking,	defined,	171
	Baking-powder	biscuit,	recipe	for,	1	86
	"Balanced	meals	",	53
	Bassinette,	87
	Basting,	272,	273
	Bathing,	64;	of	baby,	71-75
	Bathroom,	cleaning	of,	126-128
	Beating,	defined,	171
	Bed	linens,	143,	144
	Bed-making,	121,	122,	304,	305
	Bedroom,	Colonial,	18,	119;	a	girl's,
	117-121;	cleaning	of,	122-126
	Beef,	190;	cuts,	191,	193
	Beets,	Harvard,	208
	Behavior	problems,	95,	111-112
	Beri-beri,	54
	Beverages,	for	breakfast,	162
	Bias,	280-282
	Blanc	mange,	chocolate,	recipe	for,	189
	Blankets,	cleaning	of,	126
	"Blue	laws	",	41
	Blueing,	Prussian,	144,	146;	ultra-
	marine,	146;	analine,	146
	Boiling,	defined,	171
	Books,	315
	Bouillon,	199
	Boys,	occupations	of,	in	Colonial
	period,	4;	occupations	of,	in	mod-
	ern	times,	26;	their	responsibility
	in	the	family,	50
	Brass,	its	use	in	Colonial	days,	12;
	its	use	in	modern	times,	35
	Bread,	toasted,	167;	quickbreads,
	167,	1	68,	199;	nut,	recipe	for,	186;
	kinds	of,	199,	200;	storing	of,	200;
	left-over,	200	;	yeast,	ingredients	of,
	200,	201
	Breakfast,	should	not	be	omitted,
	158,	159;	table,	158;	fruit	at,	159-
	162;	beverages	for,	162-165;
	cereals	at,	165-166;	bread	at,	167;
	eggs	at,	168,	169;	meats	at,	169;
	types	of,	169,	170;	recipes	for	cook-
	ing	articles	for,	172-174
	Broilers,	195
	Broiling,	172,	195;	pan,	195
	Budget,	family,	44-46;	food,	157;
	cfothing,	248,	249,	261
	Bungalow,	28
	Burns,	treatment	of,	309
	Buttons	and	buttonholes,	283,	284


346
	INDEX
	CAFETERIA,	school,	232,	235
	Cake,	coffee,	recipe	for,	172;	kinds	of,
	182;	how	to	tell	when	it	is	done,
	182;	points	in	judging	a	good,	182,
	183;	caramel	layer,	recipe	for,	211	;
	sponge,	recipe	for,	213;	for	school
	lunch,	230
	Calcium,	function	of,	in	the	body,	54
	Calories,	59
	Canapes,	199,	205,	206,	220
	Candles,	10
	Canned	foods,	terms	used	in	connec-
	tion	with,	239;	table	of	standard
	requirements	for,	239,	240
	Canning,	38,	237,	239
	Capons,	196
	Caramel	filling,	recipe	for,	211
	Caramel	frosting,	recipe	for,	212
	Carbohydrates,	fuel	foods,	54;	of	two
	kinds	(sugar	and	starch),	54	;	foods
	containing,	55
	Catch	stitch,	273,	274
	Cathartics,	308
	Ceiling,	cleaning	of,	124
	Cereals,	58,	61,	96;	a	breakfast	food,
	165,	166
	Chain	stores,	37
	Chair,	Windsor,	14,	15;	slat-backed,
	H,	15
	Cheese,	in	luncheon	or	supper	menu,
	177;	souffle,	recipe	for,	185;	bis-
	cuits,	recipe	for,	186
	Chicken,	195,	196;	broiled,	207
	Children,	training	of,	46-48;	their
	responsibility	in	the	family,	49,	50;
	younger,	how	to	assist	in	the	care
	of,	71-113;	pre-school,	91-113
	Children's	Charter,	The,	ix-xii
	"Children's	diseases",	89
	China,	12,	16;	its	use	in	modern
	times,	36
	Chippendale	(Thomas)	furniture,
	12-14
	Chocolate,	163
	"Cinderella	in	Fashion	Land",	295-
	300
	Clams,	197,	198
	Cleaning,	of	sleeping	room,	123-126;
	of	curtains,	123,	124;	of	ceiling,
	124;	of	walls,	124,	131;	of	wood-
	work,	124;	of	windows,	124,	125;
	of	blankets,	125;	of	bathroom,	126-
	128;	of	upholstery,	130;	of	lamp-
	shades,	130;	of	draperies,	131;
	of	ice-box,	138	;	of	gas	stove,	138,
	139;	of	electric	stove,	139;	of	oil
	stove,	139;	of	coal-and-wood	stove,
	139;	of	sink,	140;	of	drain	pipe,
	140;	of	aluminum	pans,	141;	of
	enamel	equipment,	141	;	of	iron
	utensils,	141	;	of	tin	pans,	141	;	of
	heat-proof	glass,	141	;	of	earthen-
	ware	utensils,	141	;	of	steel	and
	stainless	steel,	141,	142
	Clothes	closet,	125,	126,	287
	Clothing,	in	Colonial	days,	17-19;
	at	the	present	day,	27,	37;	ready-
	to-wtar,	37,	264-266;	an	impor-
	tant	factor	in	keeping	healthy,	62-
	64;	of	baby,	75-81	;	of	pre-school
	child,	91-95;	cleaning	of,	126;
	problems	pertaining	to,	248	;
	budget,	248,	249,	261	;	list	of,	249;
	design	based	on	human	figure,	256-
	260;	things	to	be	considered	in
	planning,	261-264;	the	making	of,
	268-285;	care	of,	285-291
	Cloverleaf	ice-box	rolls,	recipe	for,
	210
	Cocktails,	204,	220
	Cocoa,	163
	Cod-liver	oil,	85
	Coffee,	164,	174
	Collars,	282,	283
	Colonial	architecture,	Early	Ameri-
	can,	Northern	type	of,	6-8;	Dutch
	type,	7-9;	Southern	type,	7,	9
	Colonists,	family	life	of,	3	;	the	family
	group,	3	;	occupations	of	men,	4	;
	occupations	of	women,	4;	life	of
	spinster,	4;	occupations	of	girls,	4;
	occupations	of	boys,	4	;	the	home,
	a	complete	unit,	5;	the	life,	rural,
	5;	houses,	5-10;	furniture,	10-15;
	household	utensils,	12,	16;	cloth-
	ing,	17-19;	food,	19,	20	(cf.	10,	1	1)	;
	social	life,	20;	travel,	21;	com-
	munication,	22	;	religion,	22


INDEX
	347
	Color	scheme,	of	rooms,	129,	130;
	in	meals,	156;	at	dining-table,	214,
	215	;	in	dress,	260,	262	;	for	parties,
	320,	322,	324	;	for	afternoon	tea,	326
	Color	types,	261
	Communication,	in	Colonial	days,	22	;
	in	modern	times,	39
	Consomme,	199
	Cookery-books,	20,	158
	Cookies,	183,	230
	Cooking,	method	of,	in	Colonial	times,
	10,	u,	20;	manipulations	used	in,
	171;	processes,	171,	172.	See	also
	Recipes
	Cooking	center,	of	house,	136
	Copper,	its	use	in	Colonial	days,	12;
	its	use	in	modern	times,	35;	func-
	tion	of,	in	the	body,	54
	Corn	fritters,	recipe	for,	206
	Cosmetics,	64
	Cottage,	6,	27,	28
	Cotton,	250,	251
	Crabs,	197,	198
	Creaming,	defined,	171
	Croutons,	recipe	for,	185
	Curtains,	120,	123,	124
	Cutlery,	132;	list	of	articles	needed
	in	kitchen,	134
	Cuts,	treatment	of,	309
	DATE	BARS,	recipe	for,	232
	Definitions,	171,	172
	Demi-tasse,	214
	Design,	structural,	254;	surface,	256
	Desserts,	176;	luncheon,	180-182;
	dinner,	201-203,	221
	Dickens,	Charles,	10
	Dieting,	has	become	a	fad,	59	;	danger
	m	>	59>	61	;	under	a	physician's	care,
	61
	Diets,	strenuous	reducing,	59;	self-
	imposed	gaining,	61	;	food-rules
	for,	61,	62;	of	pre-school	child,	95,
	96	;	invalid,	306,	307
	Dining	room,	129,	215
	Dinner,	main	dish	of,	190-198	;	soups
	with,	198,	199;	appetizer	with,	199;
	desserts,	201-203;	types	of,	204;
	recipes	for,	204-214
	Discipline,	110,	in
	Dish-washing,	142,	143	,
	Disinfectants,	309
	Drain	pipe,	cleaning	of,	140
	Draperies,	cleaning	of,	131
	Dry	ice,	202
	Dusters,	121
	Dustless	mop,	121
	Dyeing,	ways	of,	254
	Dyes,	17,	18,	120,	290,	291
	EARTHENWARE	UTENSILS,	cleaning
	of,	141
	Eating	between	meals,	a	bad	practice,
	59,98
	Education,	at	the	present	day,	39,	40;
	early,	46-48;	parental,	48;	con-
	tinuation	of,	after	school,	339;	the
	advantages	of,	339;	informal,	339,
	340
	Egg	fillings,	recipe	for,	231
	Eggs,	58,	62,	96;	at	breakfast,	168,
	169;	grades	of,	168	;	preserving	of,
	1	68,	169;	scrambled,	recipe	for,
	173;	in	luncheon	or	supper	dishes,
	176
	Emery,	268
	Enamel,	36;	equipment,	cleaning	of,
	141
	Endive,	curly,	210
	Entrance	hall,	128
	Evaporation,	63
	Expense	account,	44
	FAINTING,	309
	Family,	in	Colonial	days,	3;	the
	modern	times,	25;	responsibility	of
	each	member	of,	43-51;	budget,
	44-46
	Father,	his	financial	responsibility,	48
	Fats,	54,	56,	59
	Fear,	112
	Feeding	problems,	112
	Fermentation,	201
	Fiber,	vegetable,	250-252;	animal,
	252;	synthetic,	253;	tests	for,
	256
	Fireplace,	the	main	source	of	heat	in
	Colonial	houses,	9,	10;	used	for


348
	INDEX
	Fireplace	(Continued)
	,	cooking,	10;	an	old	Colonial,	n;
	source	of	artificial	light,	10;	in
	modern	houses,	30
	Fish,	59;	types	of,	196;	the	buying
	of,	197;	ways	of	cooking,	197
	Folding,	defined,	171
	Food,	in	Colonial	days,	19,	20;
	preservation	of,	20,	38,	236-238;
	in	modern	times,	37,	38;	canned,
	38;	elements,	chart	of,	57,	58;
	daily	rules	for,	61	;	of	baby,	78-86;
	of	pre-school	child,	95-98	;	habits,
	98,	99;	budget,	157;	frosted	and
	frozen,	239;	of	patient,	306,	307;
	for	afternoon	tea,	328
	Foods,	balance	of,	53	;	four	classes	of
	(fuel,	body-building,	body-regu-
	lating,	protective),	54;	function
	and	value	of	certain,	58,	59;
	canned,	239,	240
	Franklin,	Benjamin,	3
	French	dressing,	recipe	for,	210
	Frozen	mixtures,	201-203,	221
	Fruit	cup,	recipe	for,	189
	Fruit	shortcakes,	181
	Fruit	whip,	181
	Fruits,	58,	61;	in	baby's	diet,	86;
	in	child's	diet,	96;	in	American
	breakfast,	159;	fresh,	canned,	and
	dried,	159;	methods	of	preparing
	and	serving,	160,	161	;	general
	directions	for	cooking,	161,	162;
	for	luncheon,	1	8	1	;	for	school
	lunch,	230
	Frying,	defined,	172
	Furniture,	of	Colonial	days,	10-15,
	127;	Early	American,	12,	14,	15,
	31;	of	Dutch	or	Cabriole	period,
	12-14;	Queen	Anne,	12-14,	*8;
	Chippendale,	12-14;	Hepplewhite,
	12-14,	31;	Sheraton,	12-14;
	Adam,	12-14;	Phyfe,	12-14;	of
	the	present	day,	27,	31-35;	re-
	productions	of	antique,	31,	32;
	of	the	latter	part	of	the	nineteenth
	and	the	early	part	of	the	twentieth
	centuries,	32;	Mid-Victorian,	33;
	for	children's	rooms,	101,	102;
	painting,	1	1	8,	120;	refinishing	old,
	120;	of	sick	room,	302,	303
	GAMES,	318
	Garbage	pails,	137,	140,	141
	"Garden	city	movement	",	29,	30
	Garters,	64,	93
	Gelatin	desserts,	181,	182
	"Gertrude",	76
	Girls,	occupations	of,	in	Colonial
	period,	4;	occupations	of,	in	mod-
	ern	times,	26;	their	responsibility
	in	the	family,	50,	51
	Glass,	its	use	in	Colonial	times,	12,	16;
	its	use	in	modern	times,	36
	Glassware,	heat-proof,	cleaning	of,	141
	Gloves,	266
	Goiter,	54
	Graham	muffins,	recipe	for,	173
	HAIR,	care	of,	65-67
	Halitosis,	67
	Hats,	259,	266
	Health,	341	;	of	the	family,	mother
	responsible	for,	49;	mental	and
	physical,	53;	important	factors	in,
	53-68;	habits,	68,	100
	Heating,	in	Colonial	times,	9;	in
	modern	times,	30
	Hems	and	hemming,	273,	274,	279,	280
	Hepplewhite	(George)	furniture,	12-
	H,3i
	Hobbies,	316
	Home	economics	and	home	making,
	xiii-xvii,	40
	Hooks	and	eyes,	284
	Hors	d'oeuvres,	199,	220
	Hosiery.	See	Stockings
	Hospitality,	Southern,	in	Colonial
	times,	20;	in	modern	times,	38
	House	care,	117
	Household	utensils,	Colonial,	12,	16;
	of	the	present	day,	27,	35-37
	Howe,	Elias,	Jr.,	inventor	of	the
	sewing	machine,	19
	ICE-BOX.	See	Refrigerators
	Ice	cream,	202;	vanilla,	recipe	for,
	214


INDEX
	349
	Ices,	201,	202
	Insect	bites,	treatment	of,	310
	Iodine,	function	of,	in	the	body,	54
	Iron,	its	use	in	Colonial	days,	12;	its
	use	in	modern	times,	35	;	function
	of,	in	the	body,	54
	Iron	utensils,	cleaning	of,	141
	Ironing,	149,	150
	KITCHEN,	131;	preparation	center,
	132-136;	equipment,	small,	134-
	136;	equipment,	large,	135,	136;
	cooking	center,	136;	cleaning
	center,	136,	137	;	planning	center,
	137;	care	of	equipment,	137-142
	Knitting,	254
	LAKE	PLACID	CONFERENCE,	the	first
	(1897),	40
	Lamb,	190;	cuts,	191-193;	chops,
	193;	roast	leg	of,	recipe	for,	207
	Lamp	shades,	cleaning	of,	130
	"Landscape	gardening	",	9
	Laundering,	process,	147-150;	evo-
	lution	of	equipment,	150,	151
	Laxative	foods,	86,	159,	179,	307
	Laxatives,	308
	Layette,	76
	Leavening	agent,	168,	176,	182,	2pi
	Leftovers,	166,	174,	179,	181,	195,	196,
	199,	200
	Leisure	time,	increase	of,	312;	ways
	of	spending,	313-329.	See	also
	Recreation
	Lemon	filling,	recipe	for,	212
	Lemon	tarts,	recipe	for,	212
	Lighting,	in	Colonial	times,	10;	in
	modern	times,	30
	Lindbergh,	Col.	Charles	A.,	39
	Linen,	250,	251
	Linen	closet,	144-146
	Linens,	143;	ironing	of,	150
	Liver,	59
	Living	area,	of	house,	arrangement	of,
	128,	129;	should	be	clean	and
	orderly,	but	livable,	130,	131
	Living	room,	129
	Lobster,	198
	Lukewarm,	defined,	172
	Lunch,	mid-morning	and	mid-after-
	noon,	98	;	school,	228-235	;	picnic,
	235,	236
	Luncheon,	planned	around	a	main-
	course	dish,	174;	table,	175;	milk
	an	ingredient	for,	176;	white-sauce,
	176;	eggs	an	ingredient	for,	176;
	cheese	at,	177;	vegetables	at,	177-
	179;	salads	at,	179,	180;	desserts
	for,	180-183;	types	of,	183,	184;
	recipes	for,	184-189;	soup	with,
	198;	appetizer	with,	199
	MAGAZINES,	315
	Mail,	in	Colonial	days,	22;	in	modern
	times,	39
	Main-course	dishes,	174
	"Making	Over	of	Sadie,	The",	330-
	338
	Manicuring,	65
	Mantel,	Robert	Adam,	16,	17
	Maple	sugar,	20
	Marketing,	238-241
	Markets,	municipal	and	public,	38
	Meals,	the	planning	of,	155-158,	241,
	242
	Measurements,	the	taking	of,	269,	270
	Measures,	table	of,	171
	Meat,	59;	furnishes	energy,	190;
	kinds	of,	190;	purchase	of,	190;
	cuts	of,	190-194;	cooking,	192-194;
	types	of	meat	cookery,	194,	195;
	foods	used	with,	195
	Meat	extenders,	174
	Meat	extractives,	59
	Meat	grill,	recipe	for,	206
	Meat	substitutes,	174
	Medicine	cabinet,	suggestions	for,
	308,	309
	Men,	occupations	of,	in	Colonial
	period,	4
	Menus,	for	school	lunch,	234;	party,
	3^3
	Mercerized	material,	254
	Meringue,	recipe	for,	188,	212,	213
	Milk,	nearly	perfect	food,	58,	162;
	in	food	diet,	61	;	for	baby,	78,	82,
	83,	85;	graded	(A,	B,	C),	82;
	pasteurized,	82;	certified,	82;


184	HANNAH	THUKSTON:
	Sodoin	!"	exclaimed	Seth,	determined	not	to	be	put	down
	"But,	of	course,	people	who	think	fashion	more	important
	than	principle^	will	always	admire	a	city	life."
	"	Yes,	it	is	Fashion,"	added	Mrs.	Merryfield,	who	was	un
	usually	dyspeptic	that	evening	"it	is	Fashion	that	has	im
	peded	the	cause	of	woman.	Fashion	is	the	fetters	which
	chains	her	down	as	the	slave	of	man.	How	can	she	know	her
	rights,	when	she	is	educated,	as	a	child,	to	believe	that	Dress
	is	her	Doom	?"
	"	If	you	were	familiar	with	cities,	Mrs.	Merryfield,"	said
	Woodbury,	"	you	would	find	that	they	admit	of	the	nearest
	approach	to	social	independence.	Fashion	is	just	as	rigid	in
	Ptolemy	as	it	is	in	New	York	;	among	the	Hottentots	or	Dig
	ger	Indians,	far	more	so.	Not	only	that,	but	Fashion	is
	actually	necessary	to	keep	us	from	falling	into	chaos.	Suppose
	there	were	no	such	thing,	and	you	and	Mr.	Merryfield	lived	in
	tents,	dressed	in	oriental	costume,	while	Mr.	Waldo	preached
	in	feathers	and	war-paint,	to	Miss	Thurston,	in	a	complete	suit
	of	steel	armor,	Mr.	Wattles	with	Chinese	pig-tail	and	fan,	and
	myself	in	bag-	wig,	powder,	and	ruffles	!"
	The	hearty	laughter	which	followed	this	suggestion	did	not
	silence	Seth.	"It	is	not	a	subject	for	frivolity,"	he	exclaimed;
	"	you	cannot	deny	that	Fashion	corrupts	the	heart	and	de
	stroys	all	the	better	impulses	of	human	nature."
	"	I	do	deny	it,"	replied	Woodbury,	whose	unusual	patience
	was	nearly	exhausted.	"	All	sweeping,	undiscriminating	asser
	tions	contain	much	that	is	both	false	and	absurd,	and	yours	is
	no	exception.	The	foundation	of	character	lies	deeper	than
	external	customs.	The	honor	of	man,	the	virtue	of	woman,
	the	pure	humanity	of	both,	is	not	aflected	by	the	cut	or	colors
	of	their	dress.	If	the	race	is	so	easily	corrupted	as	one	might
	mfer	from	your	assertions,	how	can	you	ever	expect	to	suc
	ceed	with	your	plans	of	reform	?"
	"I	should	not	expect	it,"	interposed	Mrs.	Merryfield,	"if	1
	had	to	depend	ou	the	women	that	worships	the	Moloch	of
	fashion.	Why,	if	I	was	the	noblest	and	wisest	of	my	sex,


WHITHER?	117
	again,	learns	to	consider	the	whence	and
	whither	of	life	as	one	and	the	same	reality,
	unified	under	the	aspect	of	eternity.
	Eternity	is	the	polar	star	in	the	heavens
	above	us	which	helps	us	to	find	our	bearings
	in	life.	Says	Goethe	:
	Drop	all	of	transiency
	Whate	er	be	its	claim,
	Ourselves	to	immortalise
	That	is	our	aim."
	The	same	poet-philosopher	characterises	the
	specifically	human	of	man	as	the	power	of
	giving	permanence	to	that	which	is	temporary.
	Man	can	accomplish
	Man	alone	the	impossible,
	He	discriminates,
	Chooses,	and	judges.
	To	the	fleeting	moment
	He	giveth	duration."
	We	might	as	well	call	the	specifically	hu
	man	the	divine,	for	man	can	only	by	a	recog
	nition	of	the	eternal,	the	universal,	the	Logos,
	preserve	the	consciousness	of	a	continuity	be
	tween	the	present	and	the	future,	and	thereby
	cc	give	duration	to	the	fleeting	moment."


BONE	127
	matter	in	the	formation	of	the	bone,	or	absorption	at	any	part
	and	subsequent	re	-deposition,	with	the	characteristic	scolloped
	edge	which	such	a	junction	almost	always	possesses,	are	very
	clearly	shown	by	a	difference	in	the	colouration.	Moreover,	if
	in	the	section	there	happen	to	be	any	portions	remaining	of	the
	(ossified)	matrix	of	the	original	embryonic	cartilage,	this,	like
	cartilage	matrix	generally,	is	intensely	stained	by	logwood.
	Instead	of	chromic,	picric	acid	may	be	used	for	the	decal-
	cification.	A	saturated	solution	of	the	acid	is	employed,	and
	care	is	to	be	taken	constantly	to	supply	fresh	crystals	of
	picric	acid	to	take	the	place	of	that	which	is	used	up	in	dis-
	solving	the	lime	salts.	In	all	other	respects	the	proceeding
	is	much	the	same	as	for	the	chromic	acid	method,	except	that
	the	pieces	will	require	much	longer	washing.	This	is	to	be
	done	at	first	in	75	p.c.	alcohol	containing	lithium	carbonate,
	and	afterwards	in	many	changes	of	alcohol.	The	sections	may
	be	stained	with	carmalum	or	with	picrocarmine	and	mounted
	in	glycerine	or	balsam.
	Two	other	methods	for	decalcifying	bone,	and	at	the	same	time
	preserving	the	soft	tissues,	may	be	mentioned.	The	first,	recom-
	mended	by	Thoma,	consists	in	placing	the	bone	first	in	alcohol	for
	a	few	days,	then	in	alcohol	containing	1	part	in	6	of	hydrochloric	or
	nitric	acid,	and,	when	softened,	again	in	alcohol	containing	pre-
	cipitated	calcium	carbonate,	for	two	weeks.	The	other	consists	in
	placing	the	tissue	direct	into	a	solution	made	by	dissolving,	with	the
	aid	of	heat,	1	grm.	of	phloroglucin	in	10	c.c.	nitric	acid,	and	filling	up
	to	100	c.c.	with	water.	When	decalcified	the	tissue	is	transferred
	to	alcohol.	The	decalcification	is	very	rapid	by	the	last	method	(a
	few	hours),	and	the	tissues	stain	well	after	both	these	methods.
	Lamellae	and	Sharpey's	perforating	fibres.	For	showing
	these	structures	macerated	bones	that	have	been	decalcified
	by	hydrochloric	or	nitric	acid	serve	very	well.	They	should
	before	use	soak	for	some	time	in	10	per	cent,	chloride	of
	sodium	solution,	which	is	occasionally	changed	to	get	rid	of	the
	last	traces	of	the	acid.	The	point	of	one	of	the	blades	of	a
	sharp	pair	of	forceps	is	then	inserted	obliquely	into	the
	bone	at	its	outer	surface,	and	a	small	piece	is	gripped	by	the


LETTERS	OF	SAMUEL	MORSE	1812	129
	are	placed	in	my	situation.	Do	not	say	I	suffer	myself	to
	be	carried	away	by	my	feelings;	your	feelings	could	never
	have	been	tried	as	mine	have	;	you	cannot	see	with	the	eyes
	I	do;	you	cannot	have	the	means	of	ascertaining	facts	on
	this	side	of	the	water	that	I	have.
	"	But	I	will	leave	this	subject	and	only	say	see	Dr.
	Romeyn."
	It	is	gratifying	to	learn	that	the	elder	Morse	in	America,
	after	reading	this	impassioned	appeal	from	his	son	and
	after	hearing	the	reports	of	Americans	who	had	returned
	from	England,	began	to	see	the	light,	although	still	enjoin
	ing	caution	on	the	young	man.	The	following	extract	is
	from	a	letter	of	the	father	to	the	son	dated	January	25,
	1815:
	"	We	have	had	letters	from	Dr.	Romeyn	and	Mr.	Van
	Schaick	concerning	you	which	have	comforted	us	much.
	Since	receiving	them	we	don't	know	but	we	have	expressed
	ourselves	in	our	letters	in	answer	to	your	last	a	little
	stronger	than	we	ought	in	regard	to	your	political	feelings
	and	conduct.	I	find	others	who	have	returned	feel	pretty
	much	as	you	do.	But	it	should	be	remembered	that	your
	situation	as	an	artist	is	different	from	theirs.	It	is	your
	wisdom	to	leave	politics	to	politicians	and	be	solely	the
	artist.	"
	There	remains	but	little	more	to	report.	Young	Morse
	proved	himself	again	a	true	prophet,	for	in	a	letter	of	De
	cember	22,	1814,	he	says	:
	"	With	respect	to	peace,	I	can	only	say	I	should	not	be
	surprised	if	the	preliminaries	were	signed	before	January.	'	'
	The	treaty	of	Ghent	was	signed	on	December	24,	1814,
	but	not	announced	until	February,	1815.	The	war	was	now
	at	an	end,	and	Morse	returned	to	America	a	few	months
	afterward	;	but	in	a	letter	of	March	21,	1815,	after	describing
	Napoleon	Bonaparte's	return	from	Elba,	he	has	this	final
	word	to	say:
	11	The	character	we	have	acquired	among	the	nations	of
	Europe	in	our	late	contest	with	England	has	placed	us	on
	such	high	ground	that	none	of	them,	England	least	of	all,
	will	wish	to	embroil	themselves	with	us."
	EDWAKD	L.	MOESE.
	VOL.	CXCVI.	NO.	680


NEW	BOOKS	BEVIEWED	279
	"O	Christ,	who	holds	the	open	gate,
	O	Christ,	who	drives	the	furrow	straight,
	O	Christ	the	plow,	O	Christ	the	laughter,
	Of	holy,	white	birds	flying	after,"	etc.
	As	a	sign	of	the	times,	a	pointer	to	the	direction	which	poetry	is	taking
	at	the	present	moment,	these	two	poems	are	very	important.
	LECTURES	ON	POETRY.	By	J.	W.	MACKAIL.	New	York:	Longmans,
	Green	&	Company,	1911.
	To	those	who	knew	Oxford	in	the	eighties	of	the	past	century,	J.	W.
	Mackail's	is	a	name	to	conjure	with,	for	was	he	not	one	of	the	joint	au
	thors	of	that	slim,	anonymous,	white	volume	entitled	Love-In-Idlenessf
	What	a	mine	of	poetry	that	was	!	The	little	volume	was	the	very	century
	bloom	of	minor	poetry.	It	was	a	perfectly	natural	progression	which	seated
	the	poet-fellow	of	Balliol	in	the	chair	of	poetry.	The	Springs	of	Helicon
	contained	a	large	portion	of	the	lectures	given	during	Mr.	Mackail's
	tenure,	and	the	present	volume	holds	the	remainder.	These	lectures	are
	not	so	closely	related	as	those	of	the	previous	volume,	ranging	as	they	do
	over	so	wide	a	field	as	"	Virgil	and	Virgilianism,"	"	Arabian	Lyric	Poetry,"
	"	Keats,"	"	The	Poetry	of	Oxford,"	and	"	The	Progress	of	Poetry."	Yet,
	as	the	author	says,	all	the	essays	bear	upon	the	interpretation	of	poetry
	in	some	of	its	forms;	poetry	as	the	controller	of	sullen	care	and	frantic
	passion;	as	the	companion	in	youth	of	desire	and	love;	as	the	dispeller
	and	solacer	in	age	of	the	ills	of	life,	labor,	penury,	pain,	disease,	sorrow,
	death	itself;	as	the	inspiration	from	youth	to	age,	and,	in	all	times	and
	lands,	of	the	noblest	human	motives	and	ardors,	of	glory,	of	generous
	shame,	of	freedom	and	the	unconquerable	mind.
	Through	the	chapters	of	this	noble	book	one	finds	scholarly	care,
	exalted	learning,	the	restrained	emotion	one	is	accustomed	to	look	for
	in	any	work	that	bears	the	author's	name.	Just	an	instant's	surprise
	strikes	us,	however	a	sudden	realization	that	the	spirit	of	the	times
	is	neither	here	nor	there,	but	penetrating	the	whole	world,	even	that	refuge
	of	traditions,	Oxford	when	we	hear	him	speak	of	the	rt	socialized	common
	wealth,	which	as	a	dream	or	a	vision	mankind	begin	to	have	before	their
	eyes,"	and	we	take	heart	of	grace	when	this	authority	tells	us	that	when
	the	better	world	is	realized	we	shall	have	in	poetry	"	a	nobler	interpreta
	tion	of	an	ampler	life."
	In	the	lecture	on	the	poetry	of	Oxford,	which	takes	account	of	the
	poetry	of	Grey,	Arnold,	Shelley,	Keats,	to	say	nothing	of	the	more	modern
	poetry	of	men	like	lonicus,	Canon	Dixon,Dean	Beeching,	Bowyer	Nicholls,
	Robert	Bridges,	St.	John	Lucas,	he	says	:	"	No	poetry	in	the	future	will
	be	the	poetry	of	Oxford	in	any	full	sense	which	does	not	take	account	of
	more	than	Oxford	poetry	has	hitherto	taken	account	of;	which	does	not
	take	account	of	those	other	lives	whose	destiny	is	included	with	ours,
	those	without	whom	the	readers	could	not	read,	nor	the	artists	live.	The
	seven	seals	of	the	book	which	this	university	bears	on	her	arms	have	been
	one	by	one	opened.	At	the	opening	of	the	last	there	is	silence;	but	it	is
	in	that	silence	that	the	seven	angels	take	their	trumpets	and	prepare	to
	sound."


SUBSIDIES.
	E	Subsidy	Kolls	now	deposited	in	the	Public	Record	Office	afford
	valuable	information	concerning	the	past	history	of	this	parish,	as
	they	furnish	us	not	only	with	the	names	of	the	principal	f	gentry	for
	many	centuries	past,	but	give	also	their	relative	social	position.
	It	was	originally	contemplated	to	introduce	into	these	pages	the
	whole	of	the	assessments	in	the	possession	of	the	writer,	commencing	in	the	reign
	of	Edward	III.	and	ending	in	that	of	Charles	II.	inclusive	;	but	owing	to	the	great
	space	which	they	would	occupy,	upwards	of	fifty	pages,	it	has	been	deemed	advisable
	to	give	the	following	extracts,	as	a	specimen	of	the	whole,	and	to	reserve	the	bulk
	for	publication	at	some	future	day	:
	Lay	Sub.	Co.	Surrey*	No	^	6th	Edw.	III.
	Surr.
	Taxatio	xv	mc	dno	Kegi	a	Laicis	concesse	in	com	Surr	anno	r.	r.	E.	t'cij	a	conquestu
	sexto	p.	Johem	Dabnoun	&	Willm	de	Westone	taxatores	&	coll	in	eodem	com	p
	commission	dni	Regis.
	HUNDR	DE	BRIXISTONE.
	VlLLATA	DE	PECH5I	&	CAJIWELLE.
	D	Johe	Lambyn
	D	Thorn	de	betayne
	D	Rob	Richard	.
	D	Job.	Gonuild
	DRobleHelte	.
	D	Ad	de	Melherst	.
	D	Joh	Cutiler	.
	D	Joh	Alfred	.
	D	Ric	Wyting	1	.
	D	Simoe	Baudri	.
	DJohMarchal	.
	D	Nic	le	ffrensh	.
	D	Joh	le	Baker	.
	D	Will	Ode	.
	D	Joh	Wyting	.
	D	Matild	ate	brigge
	D	Joh	Estmer	.
	D	Joh	Malyns
	D	Joh	le	Webbe	.
	D	Joh	Richer
	D	Rog	Domyng	.
	D	Ad	de	Miiimes	.
	D	Rad	Michel	.
	D	Thorn	de	Dumlye
	D	Steph	Ode
	D	Joh	ate	forde
	D	Rog	ate	Styghele	.
	D	Will	Colyn
	iij-
	viij	d
	D	Thom	fabr
	viii	d
	xvj	d
	xx	d
	D	Rob	Michel	.'....
	D	Joh	Meleward	.
	xvj	d
	xiid
	xx	d
	D	Will	Marchal
	VI	s
	viij	d
	D	Joh	ate	Welle	....
	xii	d
	xx	d
	D	Joh	Ouerstret
	xij	d
	ix	d
	viij	d
	D	Henr	le	Coupe
	ix	d
	D	Sampson	le	Coupe
	D	Joh	de	bonis	....
	ix	d
	XV	j	d
	DWillOliuer	......
	11	s
	-j
	D	Alano	Colle
	ix	d
	T	d
	D	Ric	Leche
	ix	d
	D	Thom	Try	"
	xii	d
	xvj	d
	D	Ric	Tod
	I)	Will	Wodeser
	D	Thom	Stamer	....
	j
	viij	d
	I)	Thom	Arnold	.
	d
	viij	d
	I)	Joh	Gonuild
	I)	Alic	Ermsnor	....
	ix	d
	iiii	d
	D	Gerkyn	Gerard
	ix	d
	xij	d
	D	Thom	Rutor
	D	Steph	de	Bekewell.
	iir	iiij	d
	xij	d
	D	Joh	ft'elip
	viij	d
	xx	d
	D	Rob	de	Bretynghurst	.	...
	Sm	iiij	1	'	xvij	s	vij	d	pb.
	iij	8	iiij	d
	Lay	Subsidies	Surrey	No	i|J.
	34	&	35	Hen	VIII.
	Hundred	of	Brixton.
	Surr	The	Extracte	Indentyd	of	and	for	the	Secound	payment	of	the	kyngs	Subsedye,


93
	BIRDS.
	Study	the	duck,	hen,	hawk,	crane,	robin	and	blue-bird.
	Note	under	each	the	size,	shape,	covering,	parts,	habits,,
	uses	and	food.
	Characteristic	parts	and	habits	should	receive	most	attention.
	Adaptation	of	parts	to	mode	of	life	should	be	a	prominent
	feature	in	each	description.
	Study	the	likenesses	and	differences	between	the	birds	named
	and	draw	conclusions.
	Compare	and	contrast	corresponding	characteristic	parts	and
	draw	conclusions.
	Other	swimmers,	waders,	scratchers,	birds	of	prey,	etc.,
	should	be	named.	The	Zoological	Garden	and	the	Museum
	can	be	used	to	an	advantage	in	this	work.
	Develop	and	write	many	short	descriptions	and	stories	to	be
	read	by	the	children.
	From	outline	or	questions	have	children	write	many	descrip-
	tions	and	narrations	of	birds.
	Read	interesting	stories	about	birds	from	standard	authors	to-
	be	reproduced	by	children.
	Have	children	draw	the	birds	studied	and	color	appropriately
	each	drawing.
	Draw	characteristic	parts	of	each	bird.
	Work	with	specimen	of	the	bird	studied	before	the	children,.
	THIRD	YEAR.
	INSECTS.
	Study	the	bee,	beetle	and	grasshopper.
	Every	child	should	be	provided	with	a	specimen	of	the	insect
	studied.	Children	should	make	their	own	collections	of	insects^
	Not	only	should	the	structure	of	these	insects	be	studied	but
	their	habits,	homes,	food,	time	of	appearance,	winter	abode,	etc.	r
	should	be	made	subjects	of	interest	to	the	child.
	In	the	study	of	bees,	secure	specimens,	if	possible,	of	the	dif-
	ferent	kinds,	of	honey-comb,	of	bee	bread,	etc.


ADVENTURES	OF	A	POETRY-READER	413
	minds	of	Marlowe	and	Webster,	the	super-subtlety	of	Mary
	Queen	of	Scots,	the	satire	of	Aristophanes,	the	complicated,
	modern	conception	of	the	forward	thought	of	the	world	that
	chords	in	the	variations	of	the	Prelude.	But	then	I	per
	ceived	that	Mr.	Pound	used	the	word	intellect	almost	ex
	actly	as	my	acquaintance	had	not	so	much	to	denote	men
	tal	activity	of	superior	quality	as	to	connote	a	commendable
	ignorance	of	music.
	The	term	"	Imagist	"	virtually	includes	in	an	unad
	mitted	manner	not	only	the	verse	written	by	Imagists	but	a
	great	deal	else	all	their	propaganda	about	poetry,	may	we
	not	say	all	the	politics	of	poetry	indicated	in	such	character
	istic	criticism	as	this.	It	is	not	against	the	craft	of	Imag
	ists	as	verse-writers	that	one	protests,	neither	against	their
	praise,	but	against	a	way	of	poetry-reading	inculcated	by
	these	politics,	a	way	that	precludes	the	adventure	of	novel
	understanding	for	the	poetry-reader.	For	one	cannot	avoid
	the	suspicion	that	though	the	authors'	views	are	so	different
	the	cause	of	Miss	Lowell's	conception	of	the	Imagists	as
	direct	descendants	of	Poe	and	Whitman	and	the	cause	of
	Mr.	Pound's	distress	about	Swinburne's	poetry	its	lack	of
	intellect	and	its	annoyance	of	his	verbal	fastidiousness	are
	at	bottom	the	same.
	All	these	remarks	about	the	life-work	of	Swinburne,	of
	Whitman	and	Poe	seem	to	have	nothing	whatever	to	do	with
	the	aim	of	any	of	these	masters,	nor	with	the	originality,	the
	truth	and	beauty	of	their	poetry.	But	they	have	a	great
	deal	to	do	with	the	acclaim	of	Imagists.	Mr.	Pound	un
	consciously	seeks	to	exalt	Imagism	by	refusing	to	admit	ex
	pressive	capacities	of	poetry	outside	that	field	of	art.	Miss
	Lowell,	though	more	liberal	to	extraneous	artists,	seeks	to
	exalt	Imagists	by	claiming	for	them	all	the	valuable	terri
	tory	in	sight	on	the	American	poetical	horizon	and	estates
	whose	richest	ore-veins	of	substance	and	style	one	cannot
	discover	in	the	endowment	of	the	alleged	heirs.
	To	agree	only	to	look,	and	not	to	listen,	while	you	are
	reading	Imagistic	poetry	is	a	courtesy	you	are	glad	to	show
	to	its	peculiar	art.	But	out	of	loyalty	to	Imagists,	to	read
	all	poetry	as	though	you	were	deaf,	cannot	seem	an	act	either
	of	scholarly,	critical	intelligence	or	of	happy	irresponsible
	adventure.	Indeed	nothing	will	deprive	you	of	both	these
	freedoms	so	completely	as	the	custom	of	constantly	referring
	the	poetry	of	the	race	to	the	standards	of	some	small	group.


THE	POETRY	QUIBBLE
	BY	MAXWELL	BODENHEIM
	IF	every	man	could	permanently	attain	a	life	in	which
	all	of	his	secret	longings	were	released	in	action,	very	little
	poetry	would	be	written:	it	w	r	ould	be	lived	instead.	A
	man	of	aesthetic	impulses	and	nimble	mind	would	shape
	his	personal	poems	in	speech	and	activity,	and	his	imper
	sonal	ones	would	be	loth	to	leave	that	contemplation	which
	gave	them	birth.	Written	poetry	exists	because	of	the	ele
	ments	seeking	to	mutilate	and	suppress	it.
	The	poet's	primary	aim	is	never	communication	to	his
	fellow	men:	that	is	a	surface	glow	the	effect	of	a	glass	of
	wine	taken	after	work.	He	shapes	an	inner	sphere	on
	which	reality	can	only	dwell	after	making	concessions	to
	the	outraged	loneliness	of	his	spirit.	This	last	statement,
	of	course,	indirectly	hinges	upon	what	constitutes	poetry.
	In	the	past,	clear-cut	and	sustained	rhythm	has	been
	the	only	actually	determining	factor.	Verlaine	and	parts
	of	the	Bible	are	both	considered	poetry,	although	a	uni
	verse	of	interwoven	essence,	style	and	content	separates
	them.	Men	of	different	aesthetic	fibres	have	ever	insisted
	that	poetry	is	this	or	that:	the	truth	is	that	there	has	existed
	no	definite	poetry.	At	present,	instead	of	moulding	an	elas
	tic	and	broad	starting-point	for	poetry,	critics	still	proudly
	display	their	tiny	poetic	dogmas	to	each	other.	Among
	the	younger	set	of	these	critics,	two	dominating	schools
	exist.	The	first	insists	that	the	hazy	label	of	poetry	must
	indicate	a	"	vigorous	grappling	with	reality,"	must	"	sing
	of	things	having	their	roots	in	the	soil,"	must	"	ring	with
	an	earthly	exaltation."	The	second	claims	that	"	poetry	is
	the	statement	of	overwhelming	emotional	values	"	and	that


NEW	BOOKS	REVIEWED	573
	a	universal	truth	the	necessary	greatness	of	Rome,	or	the	fore
	ordained	fate	of	mankind.	The	question,	therefore,	arises	whether
	it	would	not	be	simpler	and	better	to	say	merely	that	the	drama	tends
	to	be	logical,	while	the	epic	contains	a	large	element	of	faith	or
	assumption	than	to	try	to	distribute	the	forms	among	time-categories.
	On	the	whole,	it	seems	obvious	that	the	fundamental	distinctions
	between	the	kinds	of	poetry	must	be	distinctions	of	function	or	pur
	pose.	And	it	appears,	at	once,	a	trifle	absurd	to	say	that	the	purpose
	or	function	of	epic	poetry	is	to	point	toward	the	future,	or	that	the
	human	need	satisfied	by	the	drama	is	the	need	of	reflecting	upon
	the	past.
	The	remaining	essays	treat	of	the	teaching	of	poetry,	the	"new
	poetry,"	and	the	relation	of	scholarship	to	poetry.	They	are	charac
	terized	by	a	fine	mingling	of	discrimination	and	common	sense.	Pro
	fessor	Erskine	is	wise	in	requiring	some	sort	of	real	definition	of
	poetry	and	of	its	genres,	and	in	not	being	satisfied	with	a	mere	his
	torical	account.	He	is	wise	in	attempting	to	make	the	definition	broad
	enough	to	correspond	with	real	human	instincts.	His	breadth	of
	view,	his	refusal	to	rest	content	with	mere	special	scholarship,	gives
	value	to	his	advice	about	the	teaching	of	poetry.	"	Instead	of	teaching
	poetry	as	philosophy	or	literature,"	he	writes,	"	we	need	to	draw	on
	history	and	philosophy	in	order	to	understand	poetry."	Looking	at
	the	new	poetry	from	much	the	same	angle,	he	points	out	acutely	the
	relation	between	all	poetry	and	a	broad	and	humane	scholarship.
	"	When	the	language	of	poetry	was	developing	toward	the	hope	of
	complete	communication	between	man	and	man,	the	confession	that
	you	did	not	quite	understand	him	would	have	worried	the	poet.	Now
	adays	the	confession	only	indicates	to	him	that	you	do	not	move	in
	this	world."	The	criticism	is	fundamental.
	THE	COLLEGE	AND	NEW	AMERICA.	By	Jay	Williams	Hudson,	Ph.
	D.,	New	York:	D.	Appleton	and	Company.
	When	will	men	generally	come	to	realize	that	abstractions	are	prac
	tical	things	?	The	fact	has	a	two-	fold	meaning	:	It	means	that	abstrac
	tions	are	of	no	use	in	themselves,	and	that	they	are	of	use	as	means
	to	ends.	The	academic	mind	tends	to	regard	its	own	abstractions
	as	haying	intrinsic	value	and	truth,	and	to	ignore	the	more	vaguely
	conceived,	but	absolutely	essential	human	notions	of	worth	:	it	is	guilty
	of	"hypostasis	of	function."	The	ordinary	mind	tends	to	reject	ab
	stractions	as	having	no	direct	connection	with	its	ideas	of	value	and
	practical	truth.	Thus	life	and	learning	grow	apart	and	it	is	possible
	for	Veblen	to	maintain	that	they	have	not	now,	and	never	have	had,
	any	necessary	interdependence,	the	higher	learning	being	motivated
	solely	by	"	idle	curiosity."
	Of	course,	the	solution	of	the	difficulty	does	not	lie	in	making
	learning	subservient	to	immediate	practical	ends,	in	shackling	educa
	tion	with	vocational	restrictions.	To	do	so	would	be	to	stultify	the
	teacher	and	to	discourage	in	the	pupil	that	intellectual	curiosity	which,
	in	any	view,	is	of	value.	The	real	problem	is	to	discover	an	ideal	of


-WHAT	IS	BAD	POETRY?
	BY	ROBERT	GRAVES
	BEFORE	attempting	to	examine	the	question	"What	is	bad
	Poetry?"	I	owe	you	some	idea	of	what	I	understand	by	Poetry
	without	any	qualifying	adjective	and	must	show	where	I	am	in
	agreement	with	the	traditional	view	of	its	nature,	mechanism,
	and	functions,	and	where	I	disagree.	Also	I	must	ask	those	of
	you	who	are	acquainted	with	my	recent	On	English	Poetry	to
	recognise	my	present	position	as	being	a	development	and	in
	many	aspects	a	downright	denial	of	the	views	tentatively	and
	often	half	-humourously	held	in	that	volume	of	notebook	reflec
	tions.
	I	will	ask	you	to	think	of	Poetry	in	two	very	different	capac
	ities	without	for	a	moment	confusing	them	Poetry	as	it	fulfils
	certain	needs	in	the	poet,	and	Poetry	as	it	fulfils	certain	needs	in
	the	reader.	I	have	held	hitherto	and	still	hold	that	Poetry
	is	for	the	poet	a	means	of	informing	himself	on	many	planes
	simultaneously,	the	plane	of	primitive	imagery,	the	intellectual
	plane,	the	musical	plane	of	rhythm	structure	and	texture	of
	informing	himself	on	these	and	possibly	on	other	distinguishable
	planes	of	the	relation	in	his	mind	of	certain	inharmonious	in
	terests,	you	may	call	them	his	sub-personalities	or	other	selves.
	For	the	reader,	Poetry	is	a	means	of	similarly	informing	himself
	of	the	relation	of	analogous	interests	hitherto	inharmonious	on
	these	same	various	planes.	For	the	poet,	the	writing	of	poetry
	accomplishes	a	certain	end,	irrespective	of	whether	the	poem
	ever	finds	another	reader	but	himself,	that	of	ridding	himself	of
	these	conflicts	between	his	sub-personalities.	For	the	reader,
	without	necessarily	any	direct	regard	to	the	history	of	the	poet,
	the	reading	of	poetry	performs	a	similar	service;	it	acts	for	him
	as	a	physician	of	his	mental	disorders.	I	hold	that	a	well-
	chosen	anthology	should	be	a	medicine-chest	against	all	ordinary
	mental	disorders,	but	I	should	add	that	no	medicine	and	no
	VOL.	ccxvm.	NO.	814	23


WHAT	IS	BAD	POETRY?	355
	question	"	What	is	bad	poetry?	"	is	not	one	to	be	answered	offhand.
	In	opening	the	discussion	afresh	on	this	question,	we	are
	again	faced	with	the	need	for	a	definition	of	"bad"	as	qualifying
	"Poetry".	Does	it	mean	that	there	is	a	kind	of	poetry	which
	does	not	and	cannot	serve	any	possible	use	either	to	the	poet	or
	the	reader?	If	so,	on	behalf	at	any	rate	of	the	poet,	I	deny	that
	there	is	such	a	thing	as	bad	poetry.	Does	"bad"	imply	that
	there	is	somewhere	already	written	a	wholly	good	poetry	com
	parable	with	this	bad	poetry	that	is	always	good	poetry	and
	always	good	medicine	for	any	age	whether	or	not	the	high
	brow	critics	or	low-brow	public	reject	it?	I	would	deny	this
	implication	with	both	hands.	The	question,	"What	is	bad
	poetry?"	is	so	often	put	and	so	variously	answered	that	I	am
	inclined	to	break	away	altogether	from	the	traditional	view	that
	the	question	can	be	answered	in	terms	of	any	particular	literary
	formula.	If	we	examine	the	history	of	literary	criticism	we
	find	that	at	certain	times	certain	criteria	have	been	set	up	for	the
	judgment	of	the	art	and	that	this	one	or	that	has	continually
	been	challenged	by	a	stubborn	minority,	so	that	it	is	safe	to
	say	that	not	a	single	one	of	these	criteria	has	stood	continuously
	unchallenged,	or	at	any	rate	the	highest	common	factor	between
	them	if	discovered	would	not	be	worth	the	discovery.
	One	age	values	emotional	intensity,	another	values	sophistica
	tion	and	emotional	restraint;	one	age	demands	a	high	standard
	of	craftsmanship,	another	demands	an	anarchic	abandon	of
	grammatical	or	logical	control;	we	are	only	recently	beginning
	to	pass	out	from	a	phase	in	which	no	man	was	regarded	as	a
	great	poet	unless	he	had	written	poems	of	so	many	scores	of
	octavo	pages	in	length,	but	before	long	may	become	like	the
	Japanese	who	limit	their	poets	to	five	lines	at	a	time;	for	some
	thousand	years	it	was	held	that	no	poetry	could	be	great	unless
	it	reflected	the	ideals	of	Christian	morality,	this	view	the	poets
	of	the	'nineties	bitterly	challenged;	artificial	extravagance	of
	conceits	is	sometimes	valued,	at	other	times	a	simplicity	verging
	on	infantility,	and	so	on.	My	suggestion	is	that	these	criteria	are
	not	accidental	or	foreseeable;	they	represent	a	need	on	the	part
	of	the	critics	for	poetry	that	will	repair	certain	deficiencies	or
	maintain	certain	successes	not	only	in	the	poetry	of	the	past,	but


47
	Swent:	Not	well,	but	yes,	I	know	her.
	Lane:	Mrs.	Oppenheimer	used	to	pick	me	up	when	she	would	see	me	anyplace.
	Mrs.	Greenlee,	they	wanted	me	to	take	care	of	their	mother,	Mrs.
	Greenlee,	the	old	lady.	They	wanted	me	to	take	care	of	her.	But	I
	had	been	with	Mrs.	Nichols.	The	Bechtels	wanted	me	too.	But	I	was
	afraid	it	was	too	big	a	job.
	I	could	cook	for	Mrs.	Nichols	because	I	went	to	bed	every
	night	with	my	cookbooks	.	I	would	make	out	my	menu	and	what	I	had
	to	do.	I	never	went	out	at	night	because	she	was	there	alone.	I
	was	always	there.	She	insisted	that	we	take	our	days	off.	I	took
	every	Thursday	off	and	every	other	Sunday.	She	insisted	that	we
	take	them.	She	had	a	colored	girl	by	the	name	of	Sarah	that	would
	come	in.	She	did	the	washing	on	Thursday,	and	ironing.	I	would	go
	over	usually	to	San	Francisco	to	Golden	Gate	Park.	I	would	go
	through	the	de	Young	Museum.	Then	I	would	go	through	the	Steinhart
	Aquarium.	I	would	go	through	the	Wildlife	Museum.	I	would	go
	through	the	Japanese	Garden,	I	love	that.
	Swent:	You	made	the	best	of	your	time,	didn't	you?
	Lane:	Yes,	I	did.	I	loved	it.	The	[Nichols]	family	all	came	to	my
	rescue.	They	wanted	me	back.	They	had	made	several	trips	here	to
	Phoenix.	Dr.	and	Mrs.	Blemmer	wrote	letter	after	letter.
	**


INDIANS	IN	SURREY	ZOOLOGICAL	GARDENS.	89
	English,	when	he	heard	the	ducks	cry	"	quack,"	he	pointed
	to	them	and	told	the	Doctor	to	go	there	he	was	called	for.
	Thus	rapid	were	the	transitions	from	surprise	to	pity,	and
	to	mirth,	as	we	passed	along,	and	yet	to	wonder	and	astonish
	ment,	which	had	been	reserved	for	the	remotest	and	the	last.
	Before	the	massive	elephant	little	or	nothing	was	said	;	all
	hands	were	over	their	mouths	;	their	tobacco	was	forgotten,
	they	walked	quietly	away,	and	all	of	us	being	seated	under
	an	arbour,	to	which	we	were	conducted,	our	kind	guide	said
	to	Jeffrey,	"	Tell	the	Indians	that	the	immense	arch	they
	see	now	over	their	heads	is	made	of	the	jaw-bones	of	a	whale,
	and	they	may	now	imagine	themselves	and	the	whole	party
	sitting	in	its	mouth."	"	Well,	now,"	said	Jeffrey,	"	you
	don	t	say	so	?"	"	Yes,	it	s	even	so."	"	Well,	I	declare	!	why,
	the	elephant	would	be	a	mere	baby	to	it."	Jeffrey	ex
	plained	it	to	the	Indians,	and	having	risen	from	their
	seats,	and	being	satisfied,	by	feeling	it,	that	it	was	actually
	bone,	they	wished	to	go	home,	and	"	see	the	rest	at	a	future
	time."	We	were	then	near	the	gate,	where	we	soon	took
	our	carriage,	and	returned	to	their	quarters	in	St.	James	s
	Street.


252	MEMOIE	OF	EAEL	SPENCEE.
	1830.	The	election	returns	added	to	the	difficulties	of	the
	JET	-	48	-	country	and	the	Government.	Ministers	suffered
	the	penalty	of	their	want	of	candour,	if	not	of
	honesty,	on	the	Catholic	question,	by	the	distrust	or
	opposition	of	many	of	their	former	supporters.	Lord
	Eldon	allowed	his	tenants	to	vote	for	Lord	Howick
	in	Northumberland.	A	cry	for	Parliamentary	Re-
	form	was	raised	even	among	the	Tory	constituencies,
	and	the	triumphant	return	of	Mr.	Brougham	for
	Yorkshire,	and	Mr.	Hume	for	Middlesex,	proved
	that	in	the	very	centres	of	national	wealth	and	intelli-
	gence	the	boldest	views	of	politics	were	entertained.
	Not	that	the	Whigs	had	proportionably	gained;
	many	new	men	were	elected,	unpledged	to	either
	party,	and	the	future	was	dark	and	uncertain.
	As	the	meeting	of	Parliament	drew	near,	some
	correspondence	took	place	between	Lord	Al	thorp
	and	his	friends	as	to	the	course	they	should	pursue
	on	the	opening	of	the	Session.	He	wrote	the	fol-
	lowing	letter	to	Mr.	Brougham	whilst	the	result	of
	the	elections	was	still	imperfectly	known	:
	"	October	5th,	1830.
	"	1	shall	be	in	town	on	the	26th	(October),	where	I
	conclude	I	shall	find	you	;	we	can	then	discuss	the	course
	which	ought	to	be	taken.	I	am	inclined	to	ground	our
	opposition	to	the	Government	mainly,	if	not	entirely,	on
	their	total	inefficiency.	I	think	the	greatest	danger	which
	we	run,	and	the	thing	most	to	be	avoided,	is	the	giving
	people	an	opportunity	of	saying	that	we	were	very	mode-
	rate	and	mealy-mouthed	as	long	as	there	was	a	chance	of
	the	Duke	of	Wellington	taking	us	in,	but	that	now	we


17
	Mother's	Experience	in	Rhodesia
	Swent:	Your	mother	must	have	been	a	very	flexible	woman.
	Beyd:	She	was	a	wonderful	woman.	Let's	go	back	a	little	bit	if	that's
	interesting	to	you.	When	we	were	in	Rhodesia	she	was	the	only	white
	woman	within	five	hundred	miles.	She	carried	a	whip	in	her	hand	and
	a	pistol	on	her	hip.	I	don't	know	how	true	this	story	is.	but	if
	she	didn't	wave	that	whip	at	these	boys,	they	would	think	she	didn't
	love	them	very	much.	They	expected	to	be	treated	harshly.	I'm	sure
	she	was	tee	mild	te	do	that.
	Finally	one	of	the	other	engineers	up	there	sent	for	his	wife
	and	Mother	went	down	to	meet	her	towards	Bulawayo.	At	the	top	of
	the	pass	they	were	supposed	te	meet	the	husband	of	this	other	woman.
	He	get	there	drunk.	They	put	him	in	the	back	end	of	the	wagon	and
	sat	up	on	the	driving	board.	They	were	surrounded	by	baboons	all
	night	long	until	he	got	sobered	down	so	he	could	drive	them	back
	down	to	the	mine.
	Then	she	tells	the	story	hew	she	was	in	the	house	provided	for
	her	and	one	day	she	saw	a	black	snake	coming,	a	great	big	one.
	These	snakes	are	pretty	poisonous	in	Africa.	She	jumped	en	the
	table	and	started	screaming.	Dad	got	there	and	here	was	the	snake
	climbing	up	the	leg.	He	had	to	shoot	it.
	Then	on	their	way	up	to	Bulawayo,	where	the	mine	was	they	went
	there	on	their	honeymoon,	you	see.	They	were	married	in	Australia
	and	they	went	out	to	this	assignment	in	Africa.	She	had	all	her
	trousseau	in	one	of	these	round	top	trunks,	and	it	was	tied	on	the
	back	of	the	wagon.	When	they	get	to	a	place	te	stay	overnight,	they
	found	the	trunk	had	gone.	He	went	back	two	days'	journey	and	never
	found	it.	So	all	the	silver	and	everything	else	that	she	was
	getting	as	a	bride	were	gone	and	she	had	te	start	from	scratch.	The
	only	thing	she	had	was	Mrs.	Beaton's	cookbook.	Have	you	ever	seen
	Mrs.	Beaton's	cookbook?
	Swent:	No,	I	haven't.
	Boyd:	It's	this	big,	six	inches	thick,	and	all	designed	en	how	you	could
	feed	thirty-eight	people	for	dinner.	It	had	these	beautiful	colored
	pictures.	Somewhere	I've	got	it.	I	haven't	thrown	it	away.	And
	she	had	never	cooked	in	her	life.
	But	she	did	when	she	got	to	Bulawayo,	she	had	te	cook.	I	think
	she	became	a	good	cook.	She	had	to	feed	us	the	rest	of	her	life.	Her
	arm	was	strong	enough	te	beat	up	a	plum	pudding.	That's	pretty	stiff.
	Swent:	So	I	guess	Hollywood	didn't	hold	many	terrors	for	her	after	all	she
	had	been	through?


180	MINE	SURVEYING-	SHAFTS.
	MEASURING	SHAFTS,	LEVELS,	AND	INCLINES.
	Shafts.	To	find	Distances	between.
	1.	To	find	the	distance	between	two	shafts	a	Z>,	Fig.	35,	separated
	by	a	stream	c,	plant	a	staff	at	b	in	line	with	a,	and	set	off	a	line
	d	d	at	right	angles	to	the	line	a	ft,	fixing	a	staff	at	d.	Then	at
	right	angles	to	the	line	a	d	draw	a	line	d	e,	fixing	a	staff	at	e.
	Next,	from	the	point	a,	measure	off	a	certain	distance	on	the	line
	a	d,	and	fix	a	staff	at	the	spot,	say	/	;	adjust	the	staff	on	the	line	d	e,
	so	that	it	exactly	covers	the	staff	b	/.	Measure	the	intervals
	between	a	and	/,	/	and	c?,	d	and	e	;	then	as	the	angle	a	f	b	the
	angle	dfe,	and	a	and	d	are	each	right	angles,	therefore	as/d	is	to
	d	e,	so	is	a	f	to	a	b	;
	or,/	d	(say	100	ft.):	d	e	(70	ft.)	:	:	af	(200	ft.)	:	a	b	(140	ft.).
	2.	To	find	the	distance	between	two	shafts	a	b,	Fig.	36,	when	a
	plantation	c	intervenes,	set	up	the	theodolite	at	d,	and	take	the
	angle	b	d	a,	say>	=	90	30'	;	measure	the	distances	between	d	and	b
	and	d	and	a,	say	respectively	48	and	62	chains.	Then	draw	the
	line	d	6,	and	at	d	mark	off	the	angle	with	the	protractor	=	90	30'.
	By	applying	the	scale	to	d	b	mark	off	48	chains,	and	by	the	same
	process	to	d	a	62	chains;	then,	on	joining	the	points	a	b	and	apply-
	ing	the	same	scale,	the	distance	will	be	arrived	at.
	3.	To	find	the	distance	between	two	shafts	a	&,	Fig.	37,	which
	are	simultaneously	visible	only	from	one	spot	c	on	the	opposite	side
	of	a	stream,	and	are	separated	by	a	building	d,	plant	the	theodolite
	at	c,	and	fix	poles	at	known	intervals	at	e	and	/.	Measure	the
	angles	a	c	6,	a	c	e,	and	a	e	c.	The	distance	between	c	and	e	being
	known,	the	length	of	the	line	a	e	can	be	ascertained	by	the	rule
	"	given	one	side	and	two	angles	of	an	oblique-angled	triangle,	to
	construct	it	and	measure	the	other	parts."	Next	measure	the
	angles	b	c	f	and	c	/	6,	and	thus	find	the	length	of	the	line	c	b.
	Then	having	found	the	lengths	of	the	lines	a	c,	b	c,	and	the	angle
	a	c	6,	the	length	of	a	b	may	be	deduced	as	in	Ex.	2.
	4.	To	find	the	distance	between	two	shafts,	and	of	each	shaft
	from	two	distant	stations,	the	distance	between	the	stations	and
	the	horizontal	angles	with	the	two	shafts	from	the	stations	being
	known.	Thus	in	the	case	of	the	two	shafts	a	b,	Fig.	38,	given	the
	horizontal	angles	by	transit	theodolite	to	be	:	e	c	d	=	106	48'	20",
	f	c	d	=	90	35'	15",	c	d	e	=	23	40'	15",	c	df	=	57	17'	30",	and	the
	line	c	d	=	890	links	;	then	make	a	horizontal	line	c	d	exactly	890
	links	long;	with	the	protractor	set	off	from	c	d	with	its	centre	ate,
	the	angle	e	c	d	at	106	48'	20",	and	from	the	same	centre	the	angle
	J	c	d	at	90	35'	15".	Then	draw	the	lines	c	e	and	cf	to	any	con-
	venient	length.	Next,	setting	the	protractor	to	the	line	c	d	with	its
	centre	at	d,	set	off	the	angle	c	d	e	at	23	40'	15",	and	c	df	at
	57	17'	30",	and	remove	the	instrument.	Then	having	drawn	the
	lines	d	e	and	df,	the	point	of	intersection	of	d	e	with	c	e	will	give
	tfie	position	of	the	first	shaft	;	the	intersection	of	df	with	c	f	will


20
	Murdock:	He	had	that	in	his	print	office.	I	remember	being	very	impressed
	and	touched	by	it,	"The	lonely	printer	dozes	o'er	his	case,	and
	dreams	of	happier	days	light	up	his	face."	I	don't	remember	all
	four	lines	of	it,	but	I	thought	that	was	a	pretty	romantic
	picture.	He	had	that	in	his	printing	office.	Whether	he
	printed	it	or	whether	it	just	happened	to	be	there,	I	don't
	know.	It	gave	me	a	picture	of	the	length	of	life	of	a	printer
	and	the	memories	that	get	connected	with	it.
	Machlis:	It's	a	very	impressive	picture,	yes.	He	did	some	writing	of
	some	short	stories	that	appear	in	the	Overland	Monthly.
	Murdock:	Joe,	the	Marine?
	Machlis:	Joe,	the	MarjLne,	and	there	was	another	one,	I	guess	in	1890,
	which	I	haven't	found	yet.
	Murdock:	He	had	quite	a	variety	of	talents.	I	think	he	probably	would
	have	liked	to	have	done	more	writing	but,	again,	he	hadn't	much
	confidence	in	his	ability	to	do	these	things.	I	think	it	was	easier
	to	grind	out,	as	he	called	it,	editorials	for	the	Pacific	Unitarian
	that	people	couldn't	turn	down	because	there	they	were.	But	he
	wrote	little	poems	and	he	wrote	Christmas	cards	and	little	church
	homilies	and	such	that	pop	up	now	and	then.
	He	printed	both	for	the	ladies	of	the	Alameda	and	Oakland
	Unitarian	churches	and	also	for	the	Society	for	Christian	Work
	in	San	Francisco.	Little	booklets	of	churchly	selections,	which
	were	popular	in	the	time.	I	guess	it	was	before	the	days	when
	the	churches	all	made	their	money	out	of	cookbooks.	At	any
	rate,	they'd	have	little	homilies	and	such	things	by	Minot
	Savage,	or	by	William	Channing.	Every	now	and	then	one	of	his
	little	brief	sermonettes	would	pop	up	in	one	of	them,	which
	surprised	me	because	he	wasn't	likely	to	put	in	his	own	things.
	But	perhaps	the	ladies	had	selected	these	things	and	there	he
	was.	So	he	modestly	would	just	print	it	along	with	the	others.
	Machlis:	He	printed	some	poems	in	the	autobiography.
	Murdock:	Yes.	He	wrote	a	couple	after	the	earthquake	and	fire	of	the
	stricken	city	lifting	its	head,	and	so	forth	and	walking	in	the
	way.	He	had	an	ease	of	expression	which	made	some	of	his	things
	kind	of	quotable.
	Machlis:	And	he	kept	very	alert	and	active	as	far	as	his	writing	right
	up	until	1925	when	he	was	writing	the	printing	articles.
	Murdock:	Yes.	I'm	surprised	at	that	because	I	knew	that	he	was	working	on
	these	articles	and	anything	that	he	was	giving	like	that	he	was
	happy	about.	He	was	rather	likely	to	share	it	a	bit	at	home,
	that	he'd	been	finding	such	and	such.	No,	he	didn't	get


PRELIMINARY.	HEBREW	POETRY	253
	The	books	which	are	entirely	in	the	poetic	form	are
	Psalms,	Proverbs,	Job	(excepting	the	prologue	and
	epilogue),	Song	of	Solomon	and	Lamentations.	Eccle-
	siastes	is	similar	in	many	parts	to	the	poetry	of	Pro
	verbs.	The	books	of	the	prophets	abound	in	parallelism
	and	in	the	more	exalted	portions	may	be	classed	as
	poetry.	The	prayer	of	Jonah	(chapter	2),	the	prayer
	of	Habakkuk	(chapter	3)	and	possibly	Nahum	1:2-8
	are	examples	of	pure	poetry.
	Thus	the	Old	Testament	is	in	marked	contrast	to	the
	New	in	its	large	element	of	poetry.	The	Magnificat	of
	Mary	(Luke	1:46-55),	the	prophecy	of	Zacharias
	(Luke	1:68-77),	the	Beatitudes	(Matt.	5:3-12)	and
	certain	passages	of	Revelation	(4:8,	11	;	5	:	9-10,	12,	13	;
	7	:	5-8,	12	;	11	:	15	;	15	:	3-4	;	19	:	1-2,	5,	6-8)	in	the	spirit
	of	Hebrew	poetry	are	the	only	original	poetry	in	the
	New	Testament.	The	quotations	from	Old	Testament
	poetry	and	Paul	s	brief	citations	of	the	Greek	poets,
	Aratus	(Acts	17:28b)	and	Callimachus	(Tit.	1:12)
	should	not	be	classed	here.	The	Old	Testament	on	the
	other	hand	is	largely	poetic	either	in	spirit	or	in	form,
	often	in	both.
	III.	Form.	Rhyme	is	not	a	distinguishing	charac
	teristic	of	Hebrew	poetry,	although	something	approach
	ing	it	occurs	occasionally	(Job	10:9-18;	Paslm	6).
	Nor	is	metre	a	mark	of	this	poetry,	although	the	similar
	ity	in	the	length	of	the	lines	and	the	different	system
	of	accents	in	Psalms,	Proverbs	and	Job,	make	the	search
	for	a	metrical	arrangement	attractive.
	The	unit	of	Hebrew	poetry	is	the	line,	which	varies
	in	length	in	different	kinds	of	poetry.	Usually	two	lines
	constitute	a	verse,	which	is	then	called	a	distich.
	Tristichs	are	common	and	even	tetrastichs	and	penta-


306	IRefesbment	of	tbe	Hctors
	The	cost	of	the	movable	stages,	or	carriages,	was	sometimes
	divided	between	more	than	one	occupation,	as	e.g.,	the	Vintners
	and	Diers,	who	played	King	Herod	on	Monday,	had	an	agreement
	with	the	Goldsmiths	and	Masons,	who	played	the	Murder	of	the
	Innocents	on	Tuesday,	for	the	use	of	their	carriage	on	the	previous
	day,	paying	a	certain	sum	towards	the	making,	and	contributing
	one-third	of	the	cost	of	repairs	and	of	the	rent	of	the	carriage
	house.	These	carriages	were	put	away,	after	the	festival,	in
	buildings	hired	for	the	purpose.	1
	Before	the	plays	commenced,	proclamation	was	made	through-
	out	the	city	by	mounted	messengers	who	read	the	"	Banes."	2
	(V)	The	Actors	were	variously	paid	and	had	abundance	of	refreshments	at	frequent
	intervals	:
	1551.	To	Symyon,	iii	8	-	iiii	d	-	;	to	the	Angell,	vi	d	-	;	to	dame	Anne,	x	d	-	;	Thomas
	Ellam,	xii	d	-	;	the	1st	doctor,	xvi	d	-	;	the	2nd	doctor,	xii	d	-	;	3rd	doctor,	xii	d	-	;	the	lytell
	God,	xvi	d	-
	1554.	The	Doctors,	in	8	-	iiii	d	-	;	Joseph,	viii	d	-	;	Litell	God,	xii	d	-	;	Mary,	x	d	-	;	Dame
	Anne,	x	d	-	;	the	Angells,	vi	d	-	;	ould	Semone,	iii	8	-	iiii	d	-
	1567.	To	the	players	Rob.	Rabon,	xvi	d	-	;	the	little	God,	xvi	d	-	;	2	Doctors.	xii	d	-	;	3rd
	Doctor,	xii	d	-	;	Joseph,	xii	d	-	;	Dame	Anne,	xii	d	-	;	Angell,	viii	d	-	;	Mr.	Whyte,	iiii	8	-	;	Mr.
	Chanter,	xii	d	-	;	Wm.	Cowper,	xii	d	-	;	Gloves	for	players,	iii	8	-	;	Skynnes	for	the	play,	iii	8	-	;
	for	carriage	of	the	regalls,	ii	d	-	;	Weshing	the	curtains,	iiii	d	-
	(c)	Refreshment	for	the	Players	:
	1554.	For	Wheate,	ii	8	-	ii	d	-	;	Malt,	iii	8	-	iiii	d	-	;	Flesh,	ii	8	-	x	d	-	;	for	Flesh	at	the	breakfast
	and	bacon,	ii	s	-	viii	d	-	;	6	Chickens,	x	d	-	;	2	Cheses,	xvi	d	-	;	Item,	we	gave	botore	and	beere	for
	the	players,	iiii	d	-	;	for	bred	in	Northgate	Street,	ii	d	-	;	we	drank	in	the	Watergate	Street,	vi	d	-	;
	at	Jo	:	Aleys',	x	d	-	;	at	Ric.	Anderton,	founderer,	xii	d	-	;	at	Mr.	Davison	tavarne,	xiii	d	-	;	For
	more	Wheate,	xviii	d	-	;	Malte,	ii	8	-	ii	d	-	;	Flesh,	iii	8	-	iiii	d	-	;	a	Chese,	ix	d	-
	1561.	Flesh	for	a	breakfast	at	Whitsontyde,	iii	8	-	viii	d	-	;	2	Chickens,	vi	d	-	;	Making	the
	players	to	drink	in	Watergate	Street,	v	d	-	;	Drink	to	the	Players	in	Bridge	Strete,	iii	d	-	;	to
	John	Layes	wife	for	drink,	xii	d	-	;	to	John	Doors,	drink	xii	d	-	;	Payd	for	drink	for	their	break-
	fast	before	they	play	and	after	they	have	done	when	they	were	unbowninge	them	up,	iii	8	-	vi	d	-
	1567.	A	whole	cheese,	ii	8	-	vi	d	-	;	a	bushel	of	malt,	iiii	8	-	iiii	d	-	;	a	barrell	and	quart	of
	beare,	v	8	-	viii	d	-	;	3	hoopes	of	wheate,	iiii	8	-	viii	d	-	;	for	gorse,	salt	butter,	safron,	and	a	spyte,	x	d	-
	1568.	Spent	on	the	Chanter	and	Clark	of	the	Minster,	v	d	-	;	Bacon	on	tewsday	morning
	for	players	breakfast,	x	d	-	;	for	vele	same	tyme,	xiiii	d	-	;	Chekens,	xvi	d	-	;	Bred,	viii	d	-
	J-5^5-	For	breakfast	on	Tewsday	morning,	viii	8	-	ffarl,	MSS.,	2054.
	1	Thus	the	Drapers	paid	viii	d	-	rent	for	their	"	caredge	house	nere	to	y	e	Greye	frere	lane
	ende	;	the	Tailors	ii	8	-	vi	d	-	for	theirs	in	Fleshmonger	lane	near	Wolf's	gate	;	the	Shermen,
	in	Northgate	Street,	iiii	d	-	;	the	Smyths	for	a	place	to	sett	their	carriage	adjoining	to	the
	Shermen	under	the	Walles	nigh	unto	a	towre	called	the	"	Dilles	Towre,"	paid	the	Weavers	the
	comparatively	large	sum	of	iiii	8	-	yearly.	Harl.	2150.
	10	Aug.,	16	Eliz.	Grant	or	Lease	by	R	d	-	Dutton,	Maior,	&c.,	to	Robert	Hill	totam
	illam	domum	vocatam	The	Tailors	Caryadghouse,	jacen'	in	parte	australi	cujusdam
	venelle	voc'	Fleshmongers	lane	adjac'	terre	vocat'	Wolfes	gate	aut	Newgate	modo	in
	occupatione	Alderman'	et	senescal'	cetus	sutor'	vestiar'	quod	quidem	edificium	continen'	in
	longitudine	5	virgat.	regias	et	in	lat.	3|	virgat.	cum	pertin'	habend'	imperpetuum
	reddendo	annuatim	ad	manus	Tnesauriorum	duos	solidos	et	sex	den'.	Harl.	1996,	712.
	2	1554.	For	ryding	the	banes	xiii	d	-	the	City	Cryer	ridd.
	1561.	Cost	of	ryding	the	banes,	our	horses	and	ourselves,	of	which	Symyon	was	one,	ii	8	-
	1567.	For	the	banes	i	d	-	;	Gloves	and	drink	iiii	d	;	Bred	for	our	horses	that	day	we	rod
	the	banes	xii	d	-


[Receipts	at	tbe	lEastgate	anfc	J3rit>0e0ate	567
	Bridgegate	xii	d	-	;	in	Vigilia	S.	Thome	Apostoli,	21	Dec.,	iii	d	-,	x	d	-	;	in	festo
	S.	Joh'is	Evangeliste	et	post	festum	Natalis	domini,	27	Dec.,	,	;	prox'
	post	festum	Circumcisionis,	i	Jan.,	,	ii	d	-	;	S.	Hillarii,	13	Jan.,	ii	d	-,	ii	d	-	;
	in	Vigilia	Conversionis	S.	Pauli,	25	Jan.,	,	vi	d	-	;	in	Vigilia	S.	Brigide,
	i	Feb.,	xi	d	-,	viii	d	-	;	prox'	post	festum	Purif.,	2	Feb.,	v	d	,	x	d	-	;	Mercatores,
	vii	s	-	viii	d	-	;	in	prima	Septimana	xle	[quadragesime]	Eastgate	viii	d	,	Bridge-
	gate	viii	d	-	;	Watergate	xx	d	-	;	Mercatores	ix	s	-	iiii	d	-	;	Invenc.	S.	Crucis,	in
	secunda	septimana,	3	May,	Eastgate	,	Bridgegate	xv	d	-	;	Mercat.	xvi	8	-	ii	d	-	;
	Vigilia	Pentecoste	,	xv	d	-	;	Vigilia	S	e	Trinitatis	,	xviii	d	-	;	prox'	post
	festum	Corporis	Christi	,	xiiii	d	-	;	S.	Augustini,	26	May,	iii	d	-,	ii	s	-	iiii	d	;
	S.	Bonifacii,	5	June,	iii	d	,	ii	s	-	vi	d	-	;	S.	Barnabe,	n	June,	v	d	,	ii	s	-	x	d	-	;
	prox'	ante	Nativ.	S.	Joh.	Bapt.,	24	June,	xv	d	-,	ii	s	-	;	prox'	post	festum
	Nat.	S.	Joh.	Bapt.	cum	feriis	iiii	d	-,	(i;	viii	s	-	vii	d	-	|2)	;	Watergate	ii	s	-	x	d	-	;
	prox'	post	festum	Ap'lorum	Petri	et	Pauli,	29	June,	Eastgate	iiii	d	,	Bridge-
	gate	ii	s	-	iiii	d	-	;	Watergate	ix	d	-	;	Translacionis	S.	Thome,	7	July,	East-
	gate	iiii	d	-,	Bridgegate	ii	s	-	iiii	d	-	;	S.	Swithinii,	15	July,	ii	d	-,	xviii	d	-	;	S.
	Jacobi	Ap'li,	25	July,	,	ii	s	-	;	S.	Petri	ad	Vincula,	i	Aug.,	ii	d	-,	xx	d	-	;
	ante	festum	S.	Laurencii,	10	Aug.,	,	xx	d	-	;	Assumpconis	S.	Marie,
	15	Aug.,	,	xxi	d	-	;	festum	S.	Barthante	Ap'li,	24	Aug.,	,	xi	d	-	;	post
	festum	S.	Barth'ei	,	viii	d	-	;	ante	Nat.	Beate	Marie,	8	Sept.,	,	xii	d	-	;	post
	ditto,	ii	d	-,	x	d	-	;	prox'	post	festum	Exalt'	S.	Crucis,	14	Sept.,	ix	d	,	viii	d	;
	S.	Math'i	Ap'li,	21	Sept.,	,	x	d	-	;	S.	Mich,	cum	feria,	29	Sept.,	ii	s	-,	ii	s	-	x	d	-	;
	S.	Dionysii,	9	Oct.,	,	viii	d	-	;	S.	Mich,	in	Monte	Tumba,	16	Oct.,	iii	d	-,	vi	d	;
	Northgate	iii	s	-	iii	d	-	;	S.	Simonis	et	Jude,	28	Oct.,	Eastgate	iii	d	-,	Bridgegate
	xiiii	d	-	;	ante	festum	Omnium	Sanctorum,	i	Nov.,	,	vi	d	-	;	post	ditto,	vi	d	-,
	vi	d	-	;	S.	Martini	in	Yeme,	n	Nov.,	iiii	d	-,	iiii	d	-	,	S.	Edwardi	Regis	,	x	d	-	;
	S.	Andree,	30	Nov.,	,	xii	d	-	;	ante	festum	S.	Nich.	Episcopi,	6	Dec.,	,	x	d	-	;
	post	festum	S.	Nich.	Episcopi	,	i	d	-	;	S.	Lucie,	13	Dec.,	,	ii	d	-	;	Stephani,
	26	Dec.,	i	d	,	;	Circumcisionis,	i	Jan,,	ii	d	,	;	Ep'hie	domini,	6	Jan.,
	iiii	d	-,	ii	d	-	;	Hillarii,	13	Jan.,	nil,	nil	;	Fabiani,	20	Jan.,	ii	d	-,	ii	d	;	Convers'	S.
	Pauli,	25	Jan.,	,	;	Purificationis,	2	Feb.,	ii	d	-,	iiii	d	-	;	S.	Scolastie,	10	Feb.,
	,	ii	d	-	;	S.	Valentini,	14	Feb.,	ii	d	,	v	d	-	;	i	a	Septimana	xl	e	(quadragesime)	;
	ii	a	Septimana	xl	e	vi	d	,	vii	d	-	;	iii	a	Septimana	xl	e	iiii	d	-,	iii	d	-	;	iv	a	Septimana
	xl	e	ii	d	-,	iii	d	-	;	v	a	Septimana	xl	e	ii	d	,	iii	d	;	Vigilia	Pasche	ii	d	,	ii	d	;	post
	clausum	Pasche	,	;	ante	festum	Tiburcii,	23	April,	,	;	Philippi	et
	Jacobi,	i	May,	iiii	d	-,	vi	d	-	;	ante	festum	Ascencionis	ii	d	,	ii	d	-	;	post	festum
	Ascencionis	i	d	-,	ii	d	-	;	in	Vigilia	S.	Trinitatis	ii	d	-,	iiii	d	-	;	post	festum	S.
	Trinitatis	,	;	S.	Barnabe,	u	June,	,	;	in	festo	Nat.	S.	Joh'is	Bapte,
	24	June,	iis-	)	iiis.	;	post	festum	S.	Petri,	29	June,	xvi	d	-,	viii	d	-	;	post	festum
	Translationis	S.	Thome,	7	July,	iiii	d	,	iiii	d	;	in	festo	S.	Swithini,	15	July,
	vii	d	,	vi	d	-	;	S.	Marie	Magdalene,	22	July,	iii	d	-,	iiii	d	-	;	S.	Jacobi	Ap'li,	25	July,
	i	d	,	iii	d	;	S.	Oswaldi,	5	Aug.,	,	;	S.	Laurencii,	10	Aug.,	iii	d	-,	vi	d	-	;
	Assumpcionis	Beate	Marie,	15	Aug.,	vi	d	-,	vi	d	-	;	S.	Bartholomei,	24	Aug.,
	xiiii	d	-,	xv	d	-	;	S.	Egidii	Abbatis,	i	Sept.,	ii	d	-,	iii	d	-	;	S.	Mich.	Archangeli,
	29	Sept.,	ii	d	-,	iii	d	;	S.	Fidis	Virginis,	6	Oct.,	,	;	Transl.	S.	Edwardi,
	13	Oct.,	i	d	-,	i	d	;	S.	Luce	Evangeliste,	18	Oct.,	ii	d	-,	iiii	d	-	;	S.	Crispini	et
	Crispiniani,	25	Oct.,	i	d	-,	ii	d	-	;	S.	Martini,	u	Nov.,	iii	d	-,	ii	d	-	;	S	Hugonis,
	17	Nov.,	iiii	d	-,	;	S.	Nicholai,	6	Dec.,	,	vii	d	-	;	Northgate	ob.	;	Joh'es
	Wilkynsone	pro	finna	portarum	de	Watergate	et	Northegate	per	totum
	annum	vi	s	-	viii	d	-	__^
	(i)	De	feria	ii	8	-	et	de	feria	Ap'lorum	Petri	et	Pauli	ii"-	;	<	2	>	de	feria	iii	8	-	et	de	feria
	Apostolorum	Petri	et	Pauli	V-	vii	d	-


602	WORK	OF	REDEMPTION.
	were	subdued	under	the	church's	feet,	agreeable	to	Rom.	xvi.	20.	—	Satan,	when
	.he	first	tempted	our	first	parents	to	fall,	deceitfully	and	lyingly	told	them,	that
	they	should	be	as	gods	:	but	little	did	he	think	that	the	consequence	should	be,
	that	they	should	indeed	be	so	much	as	gods,	as	to	be	assessors	with	God	to
	judge	him.	Much	less	did	he	think,	that	that	consequence	would	follow,	that
	one	of	that	nature	which	he	then	tempted,	one	of	the	posterity	of	those	persons
	whom	he	tempted,	should	actually	be	united	to	God,	and	that	as	God	he	should
	judge	the	world,	and	that	he	himself	must	stand	trembling	and	astonished	be-
	fore	his	judgment	seat.	But	thus	all	the	devils	in	hell,	who	have	so	opposed
	Christ	and	his	kingdom,	shall	now	at	last	stand	in	utmost	amazement	and	hor-
	ror	before	Christ	and	his	church,	who	shall	appear	to	condemn	them.
	Now	also	shall	all	Christ's	other	enemies	be	brought	to	appear	before	him.
	Now	shall	wicked,	proud	scribes	and	Pharisees,	who	had	such	a	malignant
	hatred	of	Christ	while	in	his	state	of	humiliation,	and	who	persecuted	Christ
	to	death,	those	before	whose	judgment	seat	Christ	was	once	called	and	stood,
	as	a	malefactor	at	their	bar,	and	those	who	mocked	him,	and	buffeted	him,	and
	spit	in	his	face	;	now	shall	they	see	Christ	in	his	glory,	as	Christ	forewarned
	them	in	the	time	of	it,	Matt.	xxvi.	64,	65.	Then	Christ	was	before	their	judg-
	ment	seat	;	but	now	it	is	their	turn.	They	shall	stand	before	his	judgment	seat
	with	inconceivable	horror	and	amazement,	with	ghastly	countenances,	and
	quaking	limbs,	and	chattering	teeth,	and	knees	smiting	one	against	another.
	Now	also	all	the	cruel	enemies	and	persecutors	of	the	church	that	have
	been	in	all	ages,	shall	come	in	sight	together.	Pharaoh	and	the	Egyptians,
	Antiochus	Epiphanes,	the	persecuting	scribes	and	Pharisees,	the	persecuting
	Heathen	Emperors,	Julian	the	apostate,	the	cruel	persecuting	Popes	and	Papists,
	Gog	and	Magog,	shall	all	appear	at	once	before	the	judgment	seat	of	Christ.
	They	and	the	saints	who	have	in	every	age	been	persecuted	by	them,	shall
	come	in	sight	one	of	another,	and	must	confront	one	another	now	before	the
	great	Judge.	And	now	shall	the	saints	on	their	glorious	thrones	be	made	the
	judges	of	those	unjust	kings	and	rulers	who	have	before	judged	and	condemned
	them,	and	cruelly	put	them	to	death.	Now	shall	those	persecutors	behold	the
	glory	to	which	they	are	arrived	whom	they	before	so	cruelly	despised	and	so
	cruelly	used	;	and	Christ	will	make	those	holy	martyrs	as	it	were	to	come	and
	set	their	feet	on	the	necks	of	their	persecutors	;	they	shall	be	made	their	foot-
	stool.
	Thus	wonderfully	will	the	face	of	things	be	altered	from	what	used	to	be	in
	the	former	times	of	the	world	;	now	will	all	things	be	coming	to	rights.
	4.	The	righteousness	of	the	church	shall	be	manifested,	and	all	the	wicked-
	ness	of	their	enemies	shall	be	brought	to	light.	Those	saints	who	had	been	the
	objects	of	hatred,	reproach,	and	contempt	in	the	world,	and	were	reviled	and
	condemned	by	their	persecutors	without	a	cause,	shall	now	be	fully	vindicated.
	They	shall	now	appear	clothed	with	the	glorious	robe	of	Christ's	righteousness.
	It	shall	be	most	manifest	before	the	world,	that	Christ's	righteousness	is	theirs,
	and	they	shall	as	it	were	gloriously	shine	forth	in	it.	And	then	also	shall	their
	inherent	holiness	be	made	manifest,	and	all	their	good	works	shall	be	brought
	to	light.	The	good	things	which	they	did	in	secret	shall	now	be	manifested
	openly.	Those	holy	ones	of	God,	who	had	been	treated	as	though	they	were
	the	filth	and	offscouring	of	the	earth,	as	though	they	were	not	fit	to	live	upon
	earth,	as	worse	than	beasts	or	devils,	shall	now	7	,	when	things	shall	appear	as
	they	are,	appear	to	have	been	the	excellent	of	the	earth.	Now	God	will	bring
	forth	their	righteousness	as	the	light,	and	their	judgment	as	the	noon-day.	And
	now	it	shall	appear	who	were	those	wicked	persons	that	were	not	lit	to	live,


RELIGIOUS	AFFECTIONS.	121
	of	God	;	which	is	high	above	the	other	way,	as	the	stars	are	higher	than	a
	glow	worm	;	and	that	which	Balaam	and	Saul	(who	sometimes	were	led	by
	the	Spirit	in	that	other	way)	never	had,	and	no	natural	man	can	have,	without
	a	change	ol	nature.
	What	has	been	said	of	the	nature	of	spiritual	understanding,	as	consisting
	most	essentially	in	a	divine	supernatural	sense	and	relish	of	the	heart,	not	only
	shows	that	there	is	nothing	of	it	in	this	falsely	supposed	leading	of	the	Spirit,
	which	has	been	now	spoken	of;	but	also	shows	the	difference	between	spirit
	ual	understanding,	and	all	kinds	and	forms	of	enthusiasm,	all	imaginary	sights
	of	God,	and	Christ,	and	heaven,	all	supposed	witnessing	of	the	Spirit,	and	tes
	timonies	of	the	love	of	God	by	immediate	inward	suggestion	:	and	all	impres
	sions	of	future	events,	and	immediate	revelations	of	any	secret	facts	whatso
	ever	;	all	enthusiastical	impressions	and	applications	of	words	of	Scripture,	as
	though	they	were	words	now	immediately	spoken	by	God	to	a	particular	per
	son,	in	a	new	meaning,	and	carrying	something	more	in	them,	than	the	words
	contain	as	they	lie	in	the	Bible	;	and	all	interpretations	of	the	mystical	meaning
	of	the	Scripture,	by	supposed	immediate	revelation.	None	of	these	things	con
	sists	in	a	divine	sense	and	relish	of	the	heart,	of	the	holy	beauty	and	excellency
	of	divine	things	;	nor	have	they	any	thing	to	do	w	r	ith	such	a	sense	;	but	all	con
	sists	in	impressions	in	the	head	;	all	are	to	be	referred	to	the	head	of	impressions
	on	the	imagination,	and	consist	in	the	excising	external	ideas	in	the	mind,	either
	in	ideas	of	outward	shapes	and	colors,	or	words	spoken,	or	letters	written,	or
	ideas	of	things	external	and	sensible,	belonging	to	actions	done,	or	events	ac
	complished	or	to	be	accomplished.	An	enthusiastical	supposed	manifestation
	of	the	love	of	God,	is	made	by	the	exciting	an	idea	of	a	smiling	countenance,
	or	some	other	pleasant	outward	appearance,	or	by	the	idea	of	pleasant	words
	spoken,	or	written,	excited	in	the	imagination,	or	some	pleasant	bodily	sensation.
	So	when	persons	have	an	imaginary	revelation	of	some	secret	fact,	it	is	by	ex
	citing	external	ideas	;	either	of	some	words,	implying	a	declaration	of	that	fact,
	or	some	visible	or	sensible	circumstances	of	such	a	fact.	So	the	supposed	lead
	ing	of	the	Spirit,	to	do	the	will	of	God,	in	outward	behavior,	is	either	by	excit
	ing	the	idea	of	words	(which	are	outward	things)	in	their	minds,	either	the	words
	of	Scripture,	or	other	words,	which	they	look	upon	as	an	immediate	command
	of	God	;	or	else	by	exciting	and	impressing	strongly	the	ideas	of	the	outward
	actions	themselves.	So	when	an	interpretation	of	a	Scripture	type	or	allegory,
	is	immediately,	in	an	extraordinary	way,	strongly	suggested,	it	is	by	suggesting
	words,	as	though	one	secretly	whispered	and	told	the	meaning,	or	by	exciting
	other	ideas	in	the	imagination.
	Such	sort	of	experiences	and	discoveries	as	these,	commonly	raise	the	affec
	tions	of	such	as	are	deluded	by	them,	to	a	great	height,	and	make	a	mighty
	uproar	in	both	soul	and	body.	And	a	very	great	part	of	the	false	religion	that
	has	been	in	the	world,	from	one	age	to	another,	consists	in	such	discoveries	as
	these,	and	in	the	affections	that	flow	from	them.	In	such	things	consisted	the
	experiences	of	the	ancient	Pythagoreans	among	the	heathen,	and	many	others
	among	them,	who	had	strange	ecstasies	and	raptures,	and	pretended	to	a	divine
	afflatus,	and	immediate	revelations	from	heaven.	In	such	things	as	these	seem
	to	have	consisted	the	experiences	of	the	Essenes,	an	ancient	sect	among	the
	Jews,	at	and	after	the	time	of	the	apostles.	In	such	things	as	these	consisted
	the	experiences	of	many	of	the	ancient	Gnostics,	and	the	Montanists,	and	many
	other	sects	of	ancient	heretics,	in	the	primitive	ages	of	the	Christian	church.
	And	in	such	things	as	these	consisted	the	pretended	immediate	converse	with
	God	and	Christ,	and	saints	and	angels	of	heaven,	of	the	Monks,	Anchorites,	and
	VOL.	Ill,	16


Shall	we	Smite	with	the	Sword	?
	incident.	Grant	that	no	language	will	ever	describe
	the	horrors	of	war	;	grant	also	that	in	many	of	its
	manifestations	the	law	of	Jesus	is	not	so	much	sus
	pended	as	reversed	:	that	ploughshares	are	beat	into
	swords	and	pruning-hooks	into	spears	;	that	we	cease
	to	gather	and	join	the	ranks	of	the	scatterers	;	that
	we	come	not	to	save	men	s	lives	but	to	destroy	them	;
	that	we	rejoice	at	our	neighbour	s	misfortune,	harden
	our	hearts	against	his	cries,	and	grieve	at	his	good.
	And	in	this	pitiful	harvest	of	war,	they	that	go	down
	to	the	battle	and	they	that	tarry	by	the	stuff	"	share
	alike."
	However	convinced	we	may	be	that	we	pull	down
	but	to	build	up	better,	that	the	fire	we	bring	is	a
	purifying	fire,	it	is	difficult	for	one	who	has	spent	his
	life	trying	to	drink	in	the	spirit	of	Jesus	to	throw
	his	heart	into	work	like	this.	Wars	will	come	;	but
	woe	unto	them	through	whom	they	come	!	Is	not
	all	this	the	price	we	pay	for	living	in	a	world	where
	Satan	s	kingdom	has	not	yet	been	finally	overthrown	?
	The	path	that	Jesus	set	before	His	followers	was
	not	a	path	of	roses	but	of	malice	and	anguish	and
	blood.	As	missionaries	of	the	Gospel	they	could	not
	use	the	world	s	weapons	in	self-defence.	And	a
	Christian	nation	too	may	be	too	careful	of	the	Ark	;
	may	forget	that	God	will	defend	His	own	Ark.
	Yet	we	are	co-workers	with	God	even	in	the	defence
	of	His	Ark.	When	the	issue	at	stake	is	the	liberty
	which	our	fathers	have	won	for	us	through	centuries
	of	brave	and	weary	strife,	the	honour	of	our	women,
	the	safety	of	our	children,	all	that	our	hearts	hold
	201


950
	PRAYERS	FOR	PARTICULAR	OCCASIONS.
	gained	the	whole	world	and	lost	our	own	soul.
	Teach	us	to	praise	thee,	that	in	taking	away
	from	us	earthly	comforts,	thou	hast	given	us
	wine	and	milk	without	money	and	without
	price,	even	the	sure	mercies	of	David.	We
	thank	thee	that	we	feel	the	forgiveness	of	sins
	through	the	blood	of	Jesus	sweeter	than	all	the
	world.	Thy	smile	is	better	to	us	than	the	smile
	of	all	the	creatures.	There	be	many	that	say,
	Who	will	show	us	any	good	?	Lord,	lift	thou
	up	the	light	of	thy	countenance	upon	us.	Thou
	hast	put	gladness	in	our	hearts,	more	than	in	the
	time	that	their	corn	and	their	wine	increased.
	We	are	less	than	the	least	of	all	thy	mercies.
	We	are	not	worthy	that	thou	shouldest	come
	under	our	roof.	We	know	that	thy	judgments
	are	right,	and	that	in	faithfulness	thou	hast
	afflicted	us.	We	are	like	a	beast	before	thee.
	We	were	shapen	in	iniquity,	and	in	sin	did	our
	mother	conceive	us.	Every	particle	of	matter
	obeys	thy	holy	will.	Every	created	being,	ex
	cept	ourselves	and	devils,	serves	thee	alone.
	We	only	live	contrary	to	thee.	Every	power
	of	our	body	and	mind	is	naturally	at	enmity	to
	thee.	We	have	no	right	to	anything	but	wrath,
	condemnation,	and	curse.	Lord,	humble	us
	under	a	sense	of	our	vileness,	and	teach	us	to
	flee	to	the	Lord	Jesus	Christ.	May	we	be
	found	in	him,	and	in	him	obtain	the	children	s
	bread	and	daily	mercies	according	to	our	need.
	Lord,	we	remember	the	grace	of	the	Lord
	Jesus,	who,	though	he	was	rich,	yet	for	our
	sakes	he	became	poor	;	may	this	make	us	con
	tented	to	be	poor.	We	remember	that	he	had
	not	where	to	lay	his	head	;	may	this	make	us
	thankful	for	our	humble	lodging.	We	remem
	ber	that	others	ministered	to	him	of	their	sub
	stance	;	may	this	take	its	sting	from	our	poverty.
	Make	us	feel	it	enough	for	the	disciple	to	be	as
	his	master,	and	enough	for	the	servant	to	be	as
	his	lord.
	We	pray	for	near	access	to	thee	in	this	time
	of	need.	When	thou	takest	away	our	broken
	cisterns,	may	we	come	near	to	the	fountain.
	When	thou	showest	us	the	emptiness	of	the
	creatures,	lead	us	to	the	fullness	of	the	Creator.
	When	we	have	little	of	the	bread	of	this	life,
	may	we	have	much	of	the	bread	of	God	which
	came	down	from	heaven,	and	giveth	life	unto
	the	world.	May	we	feel	so	accepted	in	the
	beloved,	so	completely	thine,	that	we	shall	have
	no	anxiety	for	to-morrow.	Thou	art	able	to
	supply	our	need.	Thou	art	able	to	strengthen
	us	to	bear	our	want.	Thou	that	didst	not	spare
	thine	only-begotten	Son,	wilt	thou	not	with	him
	also	freely	give	us	all	things	?	Help	us	to	be
	hold	the	fowls	of	the	air,	for	they	sow	not,
	neither	do	they	reap,	nor	gather	into	barns,	yet
	thou,	our	heavenly	Father,	feedest	them.	Make
	us	feel	that	in	Christ	Jesus	we	are	much	better
	than	they.	Help	us	to	consider	the	lilies	of	the
	field,	which	toil	not,	neither	do	they	spin;	and
	yet,	even	Solomon	in	all	his	glory	was	not	ar
	rayed	like	one	of	these.	O	thou	who	clothest
	the	grass	of	the	field,	which	to-day	is,	and	to
	morrow	is	cast	into	the	oven,	make	us	feel	that
	thou	wilt	much	rather	clothe	us	though	we	are	of
	little	faith.	O	our	heavenly	Father,	who	lovest
	us	better	than	we	love	ourselves,	thou	knowest
	that	we	have	need	of	all	these	things.	Make	us
	seek	first	the	kingdom	of	God	and	his	righteous
	ness,	and	let	all	these	things	be	added	unto	us.
	Keep	us	without	carefulness.	Make	us	cast
	all	our	care	upon	thee,	for	thou	carest	for	us.
	O	Lord	Jesus,	we	remember	in	the	days	of
	thy	flesh	that	thou	hadst	compassion	on	the	mul
	titudes	because	they	had	nothing	to	eat,	and
	thou	wouldest	not	send	them	away	fasting	lest
	they	should	faint	by	the	way.	Thou	didst	take
	the	seven	loaves	and	give	thanks,	and	brakest
	them,	and	gavest	to	the	disciples,	and	they	to
	the	multitude,	and	all	did	eat,	and	all	were	filled.
	Lord	Jesus,	thou	art	the	same	yesterday,	and
	to-day,	and	for	ever.	Have	compassion	upon
	us.	Give	us	this	day	our	daily	bread.	O	Lord,
	thou	didst	say	by	the	mouth	of	thy	servant
	David,	that	the	young	iions	may	lack	and	suffer
	hunger,	but	that	they	that	seek	thee	shall	not
	want	any	good	thing.	Do	as	thou	hast	said.
	Let	this	promise	be	yea	and	amen	to	us	in
	Christ	Jesus.	Supply	all	our	need	according	to
	thy	riches	in	glory.	We	look	to	thee.	May
	we	be	lightened,	and	our	faces	be	not	ashamed.
	For	thine	own	honour	we	plead	with	thee	to
	fulfil	thy	word.	Will	not	the	world	reproach
	thy	great	name	if	thou	help	us	not	?	Our
	tears	have	been	our	meat	day	and	night,	while
	they	say	to	us	continually,	Where	is	thy	God?
	O	our	Rock,	why	hast	thou	forgotten	us	?	Why
	do	we	go	mourning	because	of	the	oppression	of
	the	enemy?	As	with	a	sword	in	our	bones	our
	enemies	reproach	us,	while	they	say	daily	unto
	us,	Where	is	thy	God	?	O	let	not	our	soul	be
	cast	down,	let	it	not	be	disquieted	in	us	;	make
	us	hope	in	thee,	for	we	shall	yet	praise	thee,
	who	art	the	health	of	our	countenance	and	our
	God.
	O	Lord,	do	not	let	us	despise	thy	chastening,
	neither	be	weary	of	thy	correction.	Help	us	to
	inquire	into	the	cause	of	thy	controversy	with
	us.	Make	us	new	creatures	in	Christ	Jesus.
	May	we	no	more	be	haughty.	May	we	learn


180
	LaBerge:	Okay.	We	talked	about	her	a	little	bit	last	time.
	Hemphill:	She	has	things	she	would	like	to	send	you.	Margaret	is
	wonderful.	You'll	enjoy	her,	because	she's	humorous,	she	was
	the	"chef	ess,"	but	she	doesn't	want	to	be	known	for	those
	things.	She	was	the	hospitality	person	that	really,	everybody
	knew.	Margaret	was	funny.	I	think	I	told	you	she	just	did	a
	cookbook,	didn't	I,	on	her	family?
	LaBerge:	Yes.
	Hemphill:	The	old	recipes.	If	you	asked	her	to	send	off	some	thoughts	on
	her	days	at	Irwin,	she	would	love	it,	if	it	would	save	your
	time.	Because	I	think	you'll	find	it	fascinating.	It	will
	fill	in-	-do	you	ever	do	that,	or	does	it	have	to	be	I	am	doing
	it	in	the	first	person?	1
	LaBerge:	We	do	sometimes	do	that,	but	we	would	like	to	get	as	much	as
	possible	from	you.
	Hemphill:	Yes.	When	I'm	looking	at	my	friendsDiane	Whitaker	and	a	lot
	of	people	like	that,	I	think	that	these	other	people	have	such
	a	depth	and	dimensionand	they	wouldn't	care	whether	they	said
	it	or	I	said	it,	but	it	will	fill	in.	It	will	be	much	more
	interesting	than	just	mine.	Because	they	were	so	important.	I
	think	that's	our	criteria,	isn't	it?	That	when	you've	got
	fifty-plus	years	in,	and	these	people	were	such	a	vital	part,
	so	it	isn't	just	that	it	was	a	one-woman	show.	I	think	that
	their	perspective,	the	things	they	saw	that	helped	donors	and
	patients,	and	what	it	was	like	to	work	under	me.	I	don't	mind,
	it's	true!	Anything	they	say	will	be	true.	So	I	don't	want	to
	be	saintly,	a	holier-than-thou,	or	a	martyr.	Because	it	wasn't
	that	way.	We	had	such	happy	times.
	The	fact	that	we're	all	such	close	friends	they	're	my
	family.	They're	just	exceptional.	But	you	know,	there	could
	be	a	lot	more	of	that	today.
	LaBerge:	You're	right.
	Hemphill:	And	the	only	reason	I	want	to	see	it	come	through	in	this	oral
	history	is	that	things	[today]	are	so	segmented,	so
	specialized,	and	in	many	instances,	it's	lack	of	warmth	and
	understanding.	How	much	more	one	can	achieve	by	having	a	happy
	working	relationship.	It	wasn't	always	happy,	and	I	was	very
	difficult	to	work	for,	as	I	said,	because	I	was	very	demanding
	and	never	achieved	it,	but	always	wanted	it	to	be	the	best,
	perfection.	That's	not	easy.
	'See	Appendix.


WATCHING	AGAINST	TEMPTATION.	141
	xiv.	15.	Close	adherence	unto	Christ	in	holiness	and	universal	obe
	dience,	then	when	the	opposition	that	the	gospel	of	Christ	doth	meet
	withal	in	the	world	doth	render	it	signally	the	word	of	his	patience,
	is	the	life	and	soul	of	the	duty	required.
	Now,	all	these	are	to	be	so	managed	with	that	intension	of	mind
	and	spirit,	that	care	of	heart	and	diligence	of	the	whole	person,	as	to
	make	up	a	keeping	of	this	word	;	which	evidently	includes	all	these
	considerations.
	We	are	arrived,	then,	to	the	sum	of	this	safeguarding	duty,	of	this
	condition	of	freedom	from	the	power	of	temptation	:	He	that,	having
	a	due	acquaintance	with	the	gospel	in	its	exceDencies,	as	to	him	a
	word	of	mercy,	holiness,	liberty,	and	consolation,	values	it,	in	all	its
	concernments,	as	his	choicest	and	only	treasure,	makes	it	his	busi
	ness	and	the	work	of	his	life	to	give	himself	up	unto	it	in	universal
	obedience,	then	especially	when	opposition	and	apostasy	put	the
	patience	of	Christ	to	the	utmost,	he	shall	be	preserved	from	the	hour
	of	temptation.
	This	is	that	which	is	comprehensive	of	all	that	went	before,	and	is
	exclusive	of	all	other	ways	for	the	obtaining	of	the	end	purposed.
	Nor	let	any	man	think	without	this	to	be	kept	one	hour	from	enter
	ing	into	temptation	;	wherever	he	fails,	there	temptation	enters.	That
	this	will	be	a	sure	preservative	may	appear	from	the	ensuing	consi
	derations	:
	(1.)	It	hath	the	promise	of	preservation,	and	this	alone	hath	so.
	It	is	solemnly	promised,	in	the	place	mentioned,	to	the	church	of
	Philadelphia	on	this	account.	When	a	great	trial	and	temptation
	was	to	come	on	the	world,	at	the	opening	of	the	seventh	seal,	Rev.
	vii.	3,	a	caution	is	given	for	the	preservation	of	God	s	sealed	ones,
	which	are	described	to	be	those	who	keep	the	word	of	Christ	;	for	the
	promise	is	that	it	should	be	so.
	Now,	in	every	promise	there	are	three	things	to	be	considered:
	[1.]	The	faithfulness	of	the	Father,	who	gives	it.	[2.]	The	grace
	of	the	Son,	which	is	the	matter	of	it.	[3.]	The	power	and	efficacy
	of	the	Holy	Ghost,	which	puts	the	promise	in	execution.	And	all
	these	are	engaged	for	the	preservation	of	such	persons	from	the	hour
	of	temptation.
	[1.]	The	faithfulness	of	God	accompanieth	the	promise.	On	this
	account	is	our	deliverance	laid,	1	Cor.	x.	13.	Though	we	be	tempted,
	yet	we	shall	be	kept	from	the	hour	of	temptation;	it	shall	not	grow
	too	strong	for	us.	What	comes	on	us	we	shall	be	able	to	bear;	and
	what	would	be	too	hard	for	us	we	shall	escape.	But	what	security
	have	we	hereof	?	Even	the	faithfulness	of	God:	"God	is	faithful,
	who	will	not	suffer	you,"	etc.	And	wherein	is	God	s	faithfulness
	seen	and	exercised?	"	He	is	faithful	that	promised/	Heb.	x.	23;	his


YVT
	POETRY	&	LIFE	SERIES
	General	Editor:
	WILLIAM	HENRY	HUDSON
	Staff-Lecturer	in	Literature	to	the
	University	Extension	Board	of	the
	University	of	London
	i.	KEATS	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	William	Henry	Hudson
	z.	JOHNSON	AND	GOLDSMITH	AND
	THEIR	POETRY
	By	Thomas	Seccombe
	3.	GRAY	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	William	Henry	Hudson
	4.	SHELLEY	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	E.	W.	Edmunds,	M.A.
	5.	COLERIDGE	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	Kathleen	E.	Royds
	6.	MATTHEW	ARNOLD	AND	HIS
	POETRY	By	Francis	Bickley
	7.	LOWELL	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	William	Henry	Hudson
	8.	BURNS	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	H.	A.	Kellow,	M.A.
	9.	SPENSER	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	S.	E.	Winbolt,	M.A.
	10.	MRS.	BROWNING	AND	HER
	POETRY	By	Kathleen	E.	Royds
	n.	MILTON	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	William	Henry	Hudson
	12.	SCOTT	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	A.	E.	Morgan,	B.A.
	13.	ELIZABETHAN	LYRISTS	AND
	THEIR	POETRY	By	Amy	Cruse
	14	.	TENNYSON	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	R.	Brimley	Johnson,	B.A.
	15.	BYRON	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	William	Dick,	M.A.
	16.	LONGFELLOW	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	Oliphant	Smeaton,	M.A.,	F.S.A.
	17.	POE	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	Lewis	N.	Chase
	18.	HORACE	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	J.	B.	Chapman,	M.A.
	19.	POPE	AND	HIS	POETRY
	By	E.	W.	Edmunds,	M.A.
	Other	Volumes	in	active	preparation


To	his	Valentine	63
	One	Kisse	in	two	let	's	breake,
	Confounded	with	the	touch,
	But	halfe	words	let	vs	speake,
	Our	Lip's	imploy'd	so	much	,	60
	Vntill	we	both	grow	weake,
	With	sweetnesse	of	thy	breath	;
	O	smother	me	to	death	:
	Long	let	our	loyes	be	such.
	Let's	laugh	at	them	that	chuse
	Their	Valentines	by	lot,
	To	weare	their	Names	that	vse,
	Whom	idly	they	haue	got	:
	Such	poore	choise	we	refuse,
	Saint	VALENTINE	befriend	;	70
	We	thus	this	Morne	may	spend,
	Else	Muse,	awake	her	not.
	THE	HEART
	IF	thus	we	needs	must	goe,
	What	shall	our	one	Heart	doe,
	This	One	made	of	our	Two?
	Madame,	two	Hearts	we	brake,
	And	from	them	both	did	take
	The	best,	one	Heart	to	make.
	Halfe	this	is	of	your	Heart,
	Mine	in	the	other	part,
	loynM	by	our	equall	Art.
	Were	it	cymented,	or	sowne,	10
	By	Shreds	or	Pieces	knowne,
	We	each	might	find	our	owne.
	But	'tis	dissolu'd,	and	fix'd,
	And	with	such	cunning	mix'd,
	No	difPrence	that	betwixt.


TRUTH.	63
	Herself	from	morn	to	night,	from	night	to	morn,
	Her	own	abhorrence,	and	as	much	your	scorn;	510
	The	gracious	shower,	unlimited	and	free,
	Shall	fall	on	her,	when	Heaven	denies	it	thee.
	Of	all	that	Wisdom	dictates	this	the	drift,
	That	man	is	dead	in	sin,	and	life	a	gift.'
	'	Is	virtue	then,	unless	of	Christian	growth,	5	1	5
	Mere	fallacy,	or	foolishness,	or	both?
	Ten	thousand	sages	lost	in	endless	woe,
	For	ignorance	of	what	they	could	not	know?
	That	speech	betrays	at	once	a	bigot's	tongue,
	Charge	not	a	God	with	such	outrageous	wrong.'	520
	'	Truly,	not	I	!	The	partial	light	men	have,
	My	creed	persuades	me,	well	employed,	may	save;
	While	he	that	scorns	the	noonday	beam,	perverse,
	Shall	find	the	blessing	unimproved,	a	curse.
	Let	heathen	worthies,	whose	exalted	mind	525
	Left	sensuality	and	dross	behind,
	Possess	for	me	their	undisputed	lot,
	And	take	unenvied	the	reward	they	sought,
	But	still	in	virtue	of	a	Saviour's	plea,
	Not	blind	by	choice,	but	destined	not	to	see.	530
	Their	fortitude	and	wisdom	were	a	flame
	Celestial,	though	they	knew	not	whence	it	came,
	Derived	from	the	same	source	of	light	and	grace,
	That	guides	the	Christian	in	his	swifter	race;
	Their	judge	was	Conscience,	and	her	rule	their	law;	535
	That	rule,	pursued	with	reverence	and	with	awe,
	Led	them,	however	faltering,	faint,	and	slow,
	From	what	they	knew,	to	what	they	wished	to	know.
	But	let	not	him	that	shares	a	brighter	day
	Traduce	the	splendour	of	a	noontide	ray,	540
	Prefer	the	twilight	of	a	darker	time,
	And	deem	his	base	stupidity	no	crime	;
	The	wretch	who	slights	the	bounty	of	the	skies,
	And	sinks,	while	favoured	with	the	means	to	rise,
	Shall	find	them	rated	at	their	full	amount,	545
	The	good	he	scorned,	all	carried	to	account.'