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  • आनन्द मठ

    आनन्द मठ

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    आनन्द मठ
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    पहला परिच्छेद

    बड़ी ही छोटी उमरमें शान्तिकी मां मर गयी थी। जिन अवस्थाओंमें शान्तिका चरित्र-गठन हुआ था, उनमें एक प्रधान है। उसके पिता पण्डित और अध्यापक थे। उनके घर में और कोई स्त्री नहीं थी।

    शान्तिके पिता जब पाठशालामें पढ़ाने जाते, तो शान्ति भी उन्हींके पास बैठी रहती थी। पाठशालामें बहुतसे लड़के रहते थे। जब पाठका समय न रहता, शान्ति उन लोगोंके साथ खेलती कूदती थी, किसीके कन्धेपर चढ़ती तो किसीकी गोदमें बैठ जाती। वे लोग भी शान्तिको बहुत प्यार करते थे। इस प्रकार लड़कपनसे ही पुरुषोंके संसर्गमें रहनेका पहला फल तो यह हुआ, कि शान्तिने स्त्रियोंकी तरह कपड़ा पहनना नहीं सीखा अथवा यों कहिये, कि सीखकर भी भूल गयी। वह ठीक पुरुषोंकी तरह लांग कसने लगी। यदि कभी कोई उसे लड़कियों की तरह कपड़ा पहना देता, तो वह उसे झट खोल देती और फिर मर्दानी धोती पहन लेती थी। पाठशालाके विद्यार्थी सिरके बाल नहीं बाँधते, इसीलिये वह भी बालोंक खोले रहती थी। विद्यार्थी लोग उसके बालोंको लकड़ीकी कंघीसे संवार देते थे। उसके वे घूघरवाले वाल उसकी पीठ, कन्धों, भुजाओं और गालोंपर लहराते रहते थे। छात्रगण ललाटमें चन्दन लगाकर बीचमें लाल बिन्दी लगाते थे। इसलिये शान्ति भी वैसा ही करती थी। उसे कोई यज्ञोपवीत पहननेको नहीं देता था, इसलिये वह बहुत रोया करती थी। परन्तु संन्ध्यापूजनके समय छात्रोंके पास बैठकर वह उनका अनुकरण जरूर करती थी। छात्रगण अध्यापकजीके न रहनेपर अश्लील संस्कृतकी

    थोड़ीसी बधार देकर कुछ शृङ्गाररसकी बातें छेड़ दिया करते थे। शान्ति भी तोतेकी तरह उन्हीं बातोंको कहने लगती थी; पर तोतेहीकी तरह वह भी उन बातोंका अर्थ नहीं समझती थी।

    दूसरा फल यह हुआ, कि शान्ति जब कुछ बड़ी हुई, तब विद्यार्थीलोग जो कुछ पढ़ते थे, उसे पढ़ने लगती थी। व्याकरण वह भले हो एक अक्षर न जानती हो, तोभी भट्टि, रघुवंश, कुमार, नैषध आदिके श्लोकोंको व्याख्या सहित याद करने लगी यह सब देख सुनकर, शान्ति के पिता भाग्यपर विश्वास कर उसे मुग्धबोध पढ़ाने लगे शान्ति बहुत जल्दी जल्दी पढ़ने लगी। यह देख अध्यापकजीको बड़ा विस्मय हुआ। उन्होंने व्याकरणके साथ साथ साहित्यके भी दो-एक ग्रन्थ पढ़ाये। इसके बाद ही सारा मामला उलट-पुलट गया। उसके पिताका परलोकवास हो गया।

    शान्ति निराश्रय हो गयी, पाठशाला टूट गयी। छात्र अपने अपने घर चले गये। पर उनमेंसे कुछ उसे बहुत प्यार करते थे, इसलिये उनमें शान्तिको छोड़कर जाते नहीं बना। उनमें से एक दया करके उसे अपने घर ले गये। यही आगे चलकर सन्तान सम्प्रदायमें जा मिले और जीवानन्द कहलाने लगे। सदा जीवानन्द ही कहा करेंगे।

    उस समय जीवानन्दके माता-पिता जीवित थे।

    जीवानन्दने उनसे उस कन्याका सारा हाल कह सुनाया। मातापिताने पूछा “इस समय इस परायी लड़कीका बोझा कौन अपने सिरपर लेगा?"

    जीवानन्दने कहा,-"मैं इसे ले आया हूं, मैं ही इसका भार उठाऊंगा।

    मां-बापने कहा,-"अच्छा, यही सही।"

    जीवानन्द उस समयतक कुंवारे थे। शान्ति भी व्याह करने

    योग्य हो गयी थी अतएव जीवानन्दने उसके साथ अपना विवाह कर लिया।

    विवाहके बाद सब लोग हाथ मल मलकर पछताने लगे। सभी समझ गये कि यह काम अच्छा नहीं हुआ। शान्तिने किसी भी तरह स्त्रियोंकेसे कपड़े नहीं पहने, सिरके बाल नहीं बाँधे। वह घरमें रहकर पड़ोसके बालकोंके साथ खेला करतीथी। जीवानन्दके घरके पास ही जंगल था। शान्ति जंगल में जा मोर, हरिण और दुर्लभ फल और फूलोंको खोजा करती। सास ससुरने पहले तो मना किया पीछे डाँट-डपट की, इसके बाद पीटा और अन्तमें उसे घरमें बन्द करके सांकल चढ़ा दी। इस प्रकारके अत्याचारसे शान्ति ऊब उठी। एक दिन दरवाजा खुला था। वह बिना किसीसे कुछ कहे-सुने चुपचाप घरसे बाहर हो गयी।

    जंगलके भीतर जा उसने चुन-चुनकर फूल तोड़े और उन्हींके रसमें कपड़े रंगकर उसने नवजवान संन्यासीका रूप बनाया। उन दिनों सारे बंगालमें दलके दल संन्यासी फिरा करते थे। शान्ति भीख मांगती खाती हुई जगन्नाथजीके रास्तेमें जा पहुँची। थोड़े ही दिन बाद वहां संन्यासियोंका एक दल आ पहुंचा। शान्ति भी उसी दल में मिल गयी।

    उस समयके संन्यासी आजकलके संन्यासियोंकी तरह नहीं थे। वे सुशिक्षित, बलवान और अनेक गुणोंसे युक्त होते थे और दल बाँधकर चलते थे। वे एक प्रकारसे पक्के राजविद्रोही थे। सरकारी खजाना लूट खाना उनका काम था। वे हृष्टपुष्ट बालकोंको चुरा ले जाते थे और उन्हें खूब पढ़ा लिखाकर अपने दलमें मिला लेते थे। इससे लोग उन्हें लड़िक धरवा" कहा करते थे

    शान्ति बालक संन्यासीके रूपमें ऐसेहो एक दलमें जा मिली। पहले तो वे लोग उसके कोमल शरीरको देखकर उसे अपने दलमें

    मिलाना नहीं चाहते थे, पर पीछे उसकी बुद्धि की प्रखरता, चतुरता और कार्यदक्षता देख, उन्होंने उसे बड़े आदरसे दलमें मिला लिया। शान्ति उनके साथ रहकर कसरत करती और हथियार चलाना सीखती थी, इसीसे वह धीरे धीरे बड़ी मिहनती हो गयी। उनके साथ रहकर उसने बहुतसे देश देखे, बहुतसी लड़ाइयां देखीं। वह हथियार चलाने में भी निपुण हो गयी।

    क्रमशः उसमें जवानीके चिह्न दिखायी देने लगे। बहुतसे संन्यासियोंको यह मालूम हो गया, कि यह तो वेश बदले कोई स्त्री है, पर संन्यासी लोग आमतौरसे जितेन्द्रिय हुआ करते हैं। इसीसे किसीने उससे कुछ नहीं कहा।

    संन्यासियोंमें बहुतसे पण्डित भी थे। शांतिको संस्कृतमें व्युत्पन्न देखकर एक पण्डित संन्यासी उसे पढ़ाने लगे।

    हम पहले लिख आये हैं कि आमतौरसे संन्यासी लेग जितेन्द्रिय हुआ करते हैं; पर सभी ऐसे नहीं होते। ये पण्डितजी भी वैसे नहीं थे अथवा हो सकता है, कि वे शान्तिको नयी जवानीके उमंगसे खिले लावण्यको देखकर मुग्ध हो गये हों और इन्द्रियां उन्हें सताने लगी हों। उन्होंने अपनी शिष्याको श्रृंगाररसके काव्य पढ़ाने आरम्भ किये और जो व्याख्या सुनाने योग्य न भी होती, उसे भी सुनाने लगे। उससे शान्तिकी कुछ हानि तो नहीं हुई भलाई हुई। अबतक शान्ति यह नहीं जानती थी, कि लजा किसे कहते हैं? अब स्त्री स्वभाव-सुलभ लज्जा आपही आ उपस्थित हुई। पुरुषचरित्रके ऊपर निर्मल स्त्रीचरित्रकी अपूर्व आभा शान्ति के गुणोंको और भी चमकाने लगी। शान्तिने पढ़ना छोड़ दिया।

    व्याघ्र जिस प्रकार हरिणीके पीछे दौड़ पड़ता है, उसी प्रकार शान्ति के अध्यापक भी उसके पोछे दौड़ने लगे। शान्तिने ब्यायाम आदिके द्वारा पुरुषोंसे भी अधिक बल संचय कर लिया था, इसलिये वह अध्यापकजीके पास आते ही थप्पड़ों और

    घूसोंसे उनकी पूजा करने लगती थी, वे थप्पड़ और घूसे भी हलके नहीं होते थे खब तौल तौलकर लगाये जाते थे। एक दिन संन्यासीजीने शान्तिको अकेले में पाकर जबरदस्ती उसका हाथ पकड़ लिया। शान्ति किसी तरह अपना हाथ न छुड़ा सको, किन्तु संन्यासीके दुर्भाग्यसे वह हाथ शान्तिका बायाँ हाथ था, इसलिये उसने दाहिने हाथसे संन्यासीके सिरमें इस जोरका घुसा मारा कि वे मूर्छित हो गिर पड़े। उसी दिन शान्ति सन्यासी दल छोड़कर भाग गयी।

    शान्ति बड़ी निडर थी। वह अकेली हो अपने देशकी ओर भाग चली। साहस और बाहुबलके प्रभावले वह निर्विघ्न रही। भीख मांगती और जंगली फलोंसे उदर-पोषण करती; मारपीट कर लोगोंको परास्त करती, वह ससुरालमें आ पहुंची। यहां आकर उसने देखा, कि ससुर स्वर्गवासी हो गये हैं। उसकी सासने जातिच्युत होनेके डरसे उसे अपने घरमें न रखा। शान्ति घरसे बाहर चली गयी।

    जीवानन्द घरपर ही थे। वे भी शान्तिके पीछे लगे। उन्होंने बीच रास्तेमें उसे जा पकड़ा और उससे पूछा,-"तुम क्यों घरसे भाग गयी थी? इतने दिन कहां थी?"

    इसके उत्तरमें शान्तिने सब कुछ सचसच सुना दिया। जीवानन्दको सच झूठकी अच्छी पहचान थी। उन्होंने शान्तिकी बातोंका विश्वास कर लिया।

    अप्सराओंकी सी बांकी भौंहोंवाली तिरछी चितवनकी ज्योति लेकर जो 'सम्मोहन' नामका तीर बड़े यत्नसे बनाया गया है, उसे कामदेव विवाहित दम्पतिके लिये व्यर्थ ही खर्च करना नहीं चाहते। अंगरेज़ पूनोंकी रातमें भी सड़कोंपर गैस बत्ती जलाते हैं, बंगाली जिसके सिरमें तेल लगा होता है, उसीके सिरमें और तेल लगाते हैं मनुष्योंकी बात तो दर किनार, चन्द्रदेव सूर्यदेवके बाद हो आकाशमें उदित हुआ करते

    हैं, इन्द्र समुद्र में ही वृष्टि करता है, जिस सन्दूकमें रुपये भरे होते हैं, कुबेर उसीमें और रुपये डाल देते हैं। यमराज जिसके सब किसीको चौपट कर चुके होते है, उसीके बाकी बचे हुए लोगोंको भी उठा ले जाते हैं। केवल कामदेव ही ऐसी निर्बुद्धिताका काम करते हुए नहीं दिखाई पड़ते। जहाँ गठजोड़ा बधा कि उन्होंने वहां परिश्रम करना छोड़ दिया। वहांका भार प्रजापतिको देकर वे ऐसी जगह चले जाते हैं, जहां वे किलीके हृदयका रक्त पान कर सकें। परन्तु आज शायद पुष्पधन्याको और कोई काम नहीं था, इसीसे उन्होंने दो पुष्प-वाणोंका अपव्यय कर डाला। एक तो आकर जीवानन्दके कलेजेमें चुभ और दूसरा शान्तिके हृदयमें। उसीने शान्तिको आज पहले पहल इस बातका बोध कराया, कि उसका हृदय स्त्रीका हो हृदय है-बड़ी ही कोमल वस्तु है। नवप्रेषके प्रथम जल कणोंसे सींची हुई फलकी कलीकी तरह शान्ति एकाएक खिल गयी और आनन्दभरी आंखोंसे जीवानन्दके मुखकी ओर देखने लगी।

    जीवानन्दने कहा, "मैं तुम्हें नहीं छोड़ सकता। देखो, जबतक मैं लौटकर नहीं आता। तबतक तुम यहीं खड़ी रहना।"

    शान्तिने कहा, "तुम लौटकर आओगे तो?"

    जीवानन्दने कुछ उत्तर न दे, बिना किसी ओर देखे, उसी राहकी एक तरफवाली नारियलकी कुञ्जने चुपकेसे शान्तिके होंठ चूम लिये। आज मानों अमृत ही पीनेको मिल गया; यही सोचते हुए वे घर चले आये।

    जीवानन्द मांको समझा-बुझाकर उनसे बिदा मांग चले आये। भैरवीपुरमें उनकी बहन निमाईका व्याह हुआ था। बहनोईके साथ उनकी बड़ी गहरी दोस्ती थी। इसलिये वे शान्तिको लिए हुए वहीं आ धमके। उनके बहनोईने उन्हें थोड़ी सी जमीन दी जिसमें एक झोपड़ी बनाकर वे शान्तिके साथ सुखसे रहने लगे। स्वामीके साथ रहते रहते शान्तिके चरित्र में

    जो मर्दानगी थी; वह धोरे धीरे लुप्त हो गयी। रमणीके रमणीय चरित्रका नित्य नया विकास होने लगा। पहले कुछ दिनों तक तो उसका जीवन एक सुख-स्वप्नकी तरह बीता, पर यकायक सुख-स्वप्न टूट गया। जीवानन्द सत्यानन्दके हाथमें पड़ गये और सन्तान धर्म ग्रहण कर शान्तिको छोड़कर चल दिये। इस परित्यागके बाद निमाईकी बदौलत जो प्रथम साक्षात् इन दोनों स्त्री-पुरुषका हुआ था, उसका हाल पिछले परिच्छेदमें वर्णन किया गया है।

    दूसरा परिच्छेद।

    जीवानन्दके चले जानेपर शान्ति निमाईके घरके बरामदेमें जा बैठी। निमाई भी गोदमें उस लड़कीको लिये हुये वहीं आ बैठी। इस समय शान्तिकी आंखोंमें आँसू नहीं थे। वह आंखें पोंछ, बनावटी हंसीसे मुस्कुरा रही थी। हाँ, कुछ कुछ गम्भीर चिन्तायुक्त और अनमनी अवश्य हो रही थी। निमाई समझ गयी, बोली,-"खैर, किसी तरह मिलना तो हुआ।"

    शान्ति कुछ न बोली, चुपचाप रही। निमाईने देखा कि शांति अपने दिलकी बात न कहेगी। उसे यह भी मालूम था, कि शांतिको मनकी बात कहना पसन्द नहीं, इसलिये उसने जान-बूझकर दूसरी चर्चा छेड़ दी, बोली,–“बहू! यह लड़की कैसी है?"

    शान्तिने कहा,-"यह छोकरी तुम्हें कहांसे मिली? तुम्हें लड़की कब हुई?”

    निमाई-"क्या मुसीबत है! तुमको यमराज उठा क्यों नहीं ले जाते! भाभी! यह लड़की तो भैयाकी है।"

    निमाईने शांतिका जी दुखानेके लिये यह बात नहीं कहीं

    थी। उसका मतलब यही था कि इस लड़कीको भैया ले आये हैं। शांति यह न समझी-उसने सोचा, कि निमाईने मेरे कलेजेमें नस्तर चुभानेके लिये यह बात कही है, इसीसे बोल उठी,-"मैंने लड़कीके बापके बारेमें नहीं पूछा था,-मांकी बात पूछी थी।"

    उचित दण्ड पाकर निमाई झुझला उठी। बोली,-"भाई! मैं क्या जानूं कि यह लड़की किसकी है भैया इसे न जाने कहांसे उठा लाये हैं मुझे सब हाल पूछने का अवसर भी न मिला। आजकल देख रही हो कि घोर अकाल पड़ा हुआ है कितने लोग अपने बाल बच्चोंको रास्तेपर फेंककर भागे जा रहे हैं। कितने ही आदमी तो हमारे ही घर अपने बच्चोंको बेचनेके लिये आये, पर हमने यही सोचकर किसीको नहीं खरीदा कि पराये बेटी-बेटेका बोझा कौन अपने सिर लेने जाय?" यह कहते कहते निमीकी आँखोंमें फिर आंसू भर आये। उन्हें पोंछकर वह फिर कहने लगी,-"लड़की बड़ी सुन्दर है, बड़ा बढ़िया चांदसा मुखड़ा है। इसीसे मैंने इसे भैयासे मांग लिया।"

    इसके बाद शांतिने बड़ी देरतक निमाईके साथ बात की और निमाईके स्वामी जब घर आये तब वहांसे उठकर अपनी कुटियामें चली गयी। वहां पहुंच दरवाजा बन्द कर उसने चल्हेके भीतरसे थोड़ीसी राख निकाली और बाकी राखपर अपने लिये पकाया हुआ भात फेंक दिया। इसके बाद वह बड़ी देरतक खड़ी खड़ी कुछ सोचती रही। फिर आप ही आप बोल उठी,- "इतने दिनसे जो सोच रखा था, उसे आज पूरा करूंगी। जिस आशापर मैंने माजतक वह काम नहीं किया था वह पूरी हो गयी, पर उसे पूरा हुई कहना चाहिये या नष्ट हुई? नष्ट। यह जीवन ही सारा व्यर्थ हुआ। जिस बातका मैं सङ्कल्प कर चुकी हूं, उसे तो पूरा करूंगी ही, जो प्रायश्चित्त एक बार किया वही सौ बार भी सही।"

    यही सब सोच-विचारकर उसने चूल्हेमें भात फेंक दिया और जंगलसे फल तोड़ लायी। अन्नके बदले उसने वही फल खाये। इसके बाद जिस ढाकेकी साड़ीपर निमाई इतनी लट्ट थी, उसे बाहर निकालकर उसने उसकी किनारी फाड़ डाली और उसे पक्के गेरुए रंगमें रंग डाला। यह सब करते करते संध्या हो गयी। संध्या हो जानेपर घरके किवाड़ बन्द कर शांति एक अद्भुत व्यापारमें प्रवृत्त हुई। उसने कैंची लेकर अपने घुटनेतक लटकनेवाले रूखे बाल डाले। जो कुछ बचे, उन्हें लपेटकर उसने जटा बना ली। रूखे बाल अजीब तरहसे जटासे बना लिये गये। इसके बाद उस गेरुए वस्त्रके दो टुकड़े कर उसने एक टुकड़ेका लंगोटा बनाकर पहना और दूसरेकी गांती बनाकर ओढ़ ली जिससे उसका शरीर ढक गया। घरमें एक छोटासा आईना रखा था। उसे आज बहुत दिनों बाद उसने बाहर निकाला और उसमें अपना रूप देखने लगी। देखते देखते बोली-“हाय! क्या करनेको थी और मैंने क्या कर डाला?" तब आईनेको अलग फेककर उसने कटे हुए बालोंकी दाढ़ी-मूछे बनायीं: पर उन्हें लगा न सकी। उसने कहा-"छिः! छिः! क्या कहीं ऐसा भी होता है? अब वह समय कहां? पर हां, उस बूढ़ेको छकानेके लिये इन्हें रख छोड़ना ठीक है।" यही सोचकर उसने उन नकली दाढ़ी मूंछोंको कपड़ेमें छिपाकर रख लिया। इसके बाद उसने घरके अन्दरसे एक बड़ीसी मृगछाला निकाल, कण्ठमें बांध, कण्ठसे जानु पर्यन्त शरीर ढक लिया। इस प्रकार नूतन संन्यासीका रूप बना लेनेपर उसने एक बार घरके चारों तरफ स्थिर भावसे देखा। दोपहर रात बीतनेपर उसने उसी संन्यासी वेशमें किवाड़ खोल घरसे बाहर निकल उसी जङ्गलमें प्रवेश किया। वनकी देवियोंने उस आधी रातके समय जङ्गल में एक अपूर्व संगीत होता हुआ सुना।

    गीत

    नहीं मनोरथ घर रहनेका,

    कहलाके अवला नारी।

    रण जय गावो सब जुड़ि आओ,

    करो युद्धकी तैयारी

    कौन तुम्हारा? कहांसे आये?

    किसके हो? क्या कहलाओ?

    चढ़ घोड़ेपर बांध अस्त्र मैं,

    लड़न चली मत लौटाओ॥

    हरि हरि कह तज मोह प्राणका,

    समर करूंगी अति भारी।

    नहीं मनोरथ घर रहनेका॥

    कहां चला प्रिय प्राण हमारा,

    मुझे छोड़के मत जाना।

    महानादसे विजय दु'दुभी,

    बजता है यह मनमाना॥

    घोड़े उड़े देख जी उमड़ा,

    युद्ध कामना है भारी।

    नहीं मनोरथ घर रहनेका,

    कहलाके अबला नारी॥

    तीसरा परिच्छेद

    दूसरे दिन आनन्दमठके भीतरवाले एक सुनसान मकानमें सन्तानोंके तीनों नायक भग्नोत्साह हो, बैठे बातें कर रहे थे। जीवानन्दने सत्यानन्दसे पूछा-"महाराज! देवता हम

    लोगोंपर ऐसे अप्रसन्न क्यों हैं? किस अपराधसे हम लोग मुसलमानोंद्वारा हराये गये?"

    सत्यानन्दने कहा-"देवता अप्रसन्न नहीं हैं, लड़ाई में तो हार जीत हुआ ही करती है। उस दिन हम जीते थे। आज हार गये हैं, अन्तमें फिर जीत सकते हैं। मुझे पूरा भरोसा है कि जो इतने दिनोंसे हमारी रक्षा करते आये हैं, वे ही शङ्कचक्र-गदा-पद्मधारी बनवारी फिर हमपर दया दिखलायेंगे। उनके चरण छूकर हमलोगोंने जिस व्रतको ग्रहण किया है, उसका पालन तो हमें करना ही होगा। विमुख होनेसे हमें अनन्त नरक भोगना होगा। मुझे तो आगे मङ्गल ही मङ्गल दिखाई देता है। परन्तु जैसे देवानुग्रह हुए बिना कोई कार्य नहीं सिद्ध होता वैसे ही पुरुषार्थ बिना भो कोई काम नहीं सरता। हमारे हारनेका कारण यही हुआ कि हम निहत्थे थे। गोले-गोलियोंके सामने लाठी, बछे और भालेकी क्या हकीकत है! इसलिये यह कहना ही पड़ता है कि हममें पुरुषार्थ नहीं था, इसीसे हम हार गये। अब हमारा कर्तव्य है कि हम अपने यहाँ भी हथियारों और बन्दूकोंका ढेर लगा दें।"

    जीवा०-"यह काम तो बड़ा ही कठिन है।"

    सत्या०-"जीवानन्द! क्या सचमुच बड़ा ही कठिन है? सन्तान होनेपर भी तुम्हारे मुंहसे ऐसी बात क्योंकर निकली? क्या सन्तानोंके लिये भी इस दुनियां में कोई काम बड़ा ही कठिन है?"

    जीवा०-"आज्ञा दीजिये, कहांसे अस्त्र संग्रह कर लाऊं?"

    सत्या०-"इसके लिये मैं आज हो रातको तीर्थयात्रा करने निकालूंगा। जबतक मैं न लौटू, तबतक तुम लोग किसी बड़े भारी काममें हाथ न डालना हां, आपसमें एकता बनाये रखना, सन्तानोंकी प्राण रक्षाके लिये खाने-पहननेकी चीजें संग्रह करते रहना और माताको युद्ध जयके लिये अर्थसंग्रह करते जाना। यह भार तुम दो जनोंपर रहेगा।"

    भवानन्दने कहा,-"आप तीर्थयात्राके समय यह सब सामान क्योंकर इकट्ठा कर सकेगे? गोली गोले ओर तोप बन्दूके खरीदकर भेजनेसे तो बड़ी गड़बड़ मच जायगी। और इतना सामान मिलेगा कहाँ? कौन इतना सब बेचनेको तैयार होगा, और कौन ला सकेगा?"

    सत्या०-खरीदकर लानेसे हमारा काम नहीं चलेगा। मैं कारीगर भेज दूंगा; उनसे यहीं बनवा लेना होगा।"

    जीवा०-"यह क्या? इसी आनन्दमठ में?"

    सत्या०-कहीं ऐसा भी हो सकता है? मैं बहुत दिनोंसे इसकी फिक्रमें था, आज भवानन्दकी दयासे मौका हाथ लग गया है। तुम लोग कह रहे थे कि विधाता हमारे प्रतिकूल है, पर मैं तो देख रहा हूं कि वह एकदम अनुकूल है।"

    भवारे-“कारखाना कहां खुलेगा?”

    सत्या०-“पदचिह्र-ग्राममें।"

    भवा०-"वहां क्यों खुलेगा?"

    सत्या०-“इसीलिये तो मैंने महेन्द्रसे यह व्रत ग्रहण करवाना चाहा था और उसके लिये इतना तरद्द द उठाया है।"

    जीवा०-"क्या महेन्द्रने व्रत ले लिया?"

    सत्या०-"लिया नहीं है, लेगा। आज ही रातको उसकी दीक्षा होगी।"

    जीवा०-"महेन्द्र के लिये क्या क्या तरद्द द उठाने पड़े, वह तो हमको मालूम ही नहीं। उसकी स्त्री-कन्या क्या हुई? वे कहां रखी गयी हैं? मैंने आज नदीके तीरपर एक कन्या पड़ी पायी थी। उसे मैं अपनी बहनको दे आया हूं। उसीके पास एक सुन्दरी स्त्री भी मरी पड़ी थी। कहीं वही महेन्द्रकी स्त्री तो नहीं थी? मुझे तो ऐसा ही शक हो रहा था।"

    सत्या०-"हां, वे ही महेन्द्रकी स्त्री कन्या थीं।" भवानन्द चौंक उठे। अब वे समझ गये, कि मैंने जिस

    स्त्रीको औषधके बलसे पुनर्जीवित किया है, वह महेन्द्रकी ही स्त्री कल्याणी है, किन्तु इस समय उन्होंने कोई बात कहनी आवश्यक नहीं समझी।

    जीवानन्दने कहा-“महेन्द्रकी स्त्री कैसे मरी?"

    सत्या०—“जहर खाकर।"

    जीवा०-"उसने जहर क्यों खाया?"

    सत्या०–“भगवानने उसे प्राण-त्याग करनेके लिये सपने में आज्ञा दी थी।"

    जीवा०—“वह स्वप्नादेश क्या सन्तानोंके कार्योद्धारके ही निमित्त हुआ था?

    सत्या०-“महेन्द्रसे तो मैंने ऐसा ही कुछ सुना था। अच्छा, अब सायङ्काल हो चला है। मैं सन्ध्या-पूजा करने जाता हूं। उसके बाद नूतन सन्तानोंको दीक्षित किया जायगा।"

    भवा०-“क्या बहुतसे नये सन्तान दीक्षा लेनेवाले हैं? क्या महेन्द्र के सिवा और कोई आदमी शिष्य होना चाहता है?"

    "हाँ, एक और नया आदमी है। पहले तो मैंने उसे कभी नहीं देखा था। आज ही वह मेरे पास आया है। वह बड़ा ही नवजवान और सुन्दर पुरुष है। मैं उसकी चालढाल और बात चीतसे बड़ाही प्रसन्न हुआ। वह एकदम खरा सोना मालूम पड़ता है। उसे संतानोंका कर्त्तव्य सिखलानेका भार जीवानन्दको दिया जाता है। इसका कारण यह है कि जीवानंद लोगोंका मन मोह लेने में बड़ा चतुर है। मैं चलता हूं, तुम लोगोंसे सिर्फ एक बात और कहनेको रह गयी है। दत्तचित्त होकर उसेमी सुन लो।"

    दोनोंने हाथ जोड़े हुए कहा-"जो आज्ञा।"

    सत्यानन्दने कहा-"यदि तुम दोनोंमसे कोई अपराध बन आया हो अथवा मेरे लौट आनेके पहले कोई नया अपराध बन पड़े, तो उसके लिये मेरे आये बिना प्रायश्चित्त न करना। मेरे आनेपर प्रायश्चित्त करना ही पड़ेगा।"

    यह कह, सत्यानन्द अपने स्थानको चले गये। भवानन्द और जीवानन्द परस्पर एक दूसरेका मुंह देखने लगे।

    भवानन्दने कहा-"यह बात कहीं तुम्हारे ही ऊपर डालकर तो नहीं कही गयी है?"

    जीवा०-"हो सकता है, क्योंकि मैं महेंद्र की कन्याको रख आनेके लिये बहनके घर चला गया था।"

    भवा०-"इसमें भला कौनसा अपराध हुआ? वह तो कोई निषिद्ध कार्य नहीं है। कहीं अपनी स्त्रीसे भी तो नहीं मिल आये हो?"

    जीवा०-"शायद गुरुजीको यही संदेह हुआ है।"

    चौथा परिच्छेद

    संध्या पूजा समाप्त कर सत्यान दने महेंद्रको बुलाकर कहा-"तुम्हारी स्त्री और कन्या जीवित हैं।"

    महेंद्र-"कहां हैं, महाराज?"

    सत्या०-"तुम मुझे महाराज क्यों कहते हो?"

    महेंद्र-"सभी कहते हैं, इसीलिये मैं भी कहता हूं। मठके अधिकारी राजा कहलाते ही हैं। महाराज, मेरी कहां कहां है?"

    सत्या-"इसका जवाब पानेके पहिले एक बातका ठीक-ठीक जवाब दो। क्या तुम संतानधर्म ग्रहण करना चाहते हो?

    महेंद्र-"हाँ, पक्का इरादा कर चुका हूं।"

    सत्या०-"तब यह न पूछो कि तुम्हारी स्त्री कन्या कहाँ हैं।

    महेंद्र-"क्यों महाराज?"

    सत्या०-"जो मनुष्य यह व्रत ग्रहण करता है, उसे स्त्री,

    पुत्र, कन्या और सगे-सम्बन्धियोंसे नाता तोड़ देना पड़ता है। स्त्री, पुत्र, कन्या आदिका मुंह देखना भी पाप है। उसके लिये प्रायश्चित्त करना पड़ता है। जबतक संतानोंका मनोरथ सिद्ध नहीं होता, तबतक तुम अपनी कन्याका मुंह न देखने पाओगे। इसलिये यदि तुमने संतानधर्म ग्रहण करनेका पक्का इरादा कर लिया हो, तो फिर कन्याका हाल न पूछो पूछकर ही क्या करोगे? क्योंकि तुम उसे देखने तो पाओगे ही नहीं।"

    महेंद्र-"ऐसा कठिन नियम क्यों प्रभो?"

    सत्या०-"संतानोंका का बड़ा ही कठिन है। जो सर्वत्यागी हैं, उसके सिवा दूसरेसे यह काम नहीं हो सकता। जिसका चित्त माथाके जालमें फसा है, वह डोरीमें बंधे हुए पतङ्गकी तरह पृथ्वी छोड़कर स्वर्ग नहीं जा सकता।"

    महेंद्र-महाराज! आपकी बात अच्छी तरह मेरी समझमें नहीं आती। जो स्त्री-पुत्रका मुंह देखता है, वह क्या किसी गुरुतर कार्यका अधिकारी नहीं हो सकता?"

    सत्या०-"पुत्र कलत्रको देखते ही हमलोग देवताकी बात भूल जाते हैं। संतानधर्मका यह नियम है कि जब भी प्रयोजन हो, तभी संतानगण प्राण त्याग दें। तुम यदि अपनी कन्याका मुंह देख लोगे, तो क्या उसे छोड़कर तुमसे प्राण दिये जायंगे?"

    महेंद्र-"न देखनेपर ही क्या उसे भूल जाऊंगा?"

    सत्यानंद-"अगर न भूल सकोगे तो यह व्रत मत ग्रहण करो।"

    महेंद्र-"क्या सभी संतानोंने इसी तरह स्त्री पुत्रकी मोह-माया त्यागकर यह व्रत ग्रहण किया है? तब तो संतानोंको संख्या बहुत ही कम होगी?"

    सत्या०-"संतान दो तरहके हैं एक दीक्षित दूसरे अदीक्षित। जो दीक्षित नहीं हैं, वे संन्यासी या भिखारी हैं। वे केवल युद्धके

    समय चले आते हैं और लूट के मालमें हिस्सा इनाम पाकर चले जाते हैं। जो दीक्षित हैं, वे सब कुछ छोड़े बैठे हैं। वे हो इस संप्रदायके कर्ता-धर्ता हैं। मैं तुम्हें अदीक्षित संतान नहीं बनाना चाहता; क्योंकि लड़ने-भिड़नेके लिये भाले-बर्छी और लाठी सोटेवाले तो बहुतसे हैं। दीक्षित हुए बिना तुम सम्प्रदायका कोई गुरुतर कार्य न कर सकोगे।"

    महेंद्र-दीक्षा कैसी? मैं दीक्षा क्यों लूं? मैं तो पहले ही मंत्र ले चुका हूं।"

    सत्या०-"वह मंत्र छोड़कर मुझसे फिर दूसरा मंत्र लेना होगा।"

    महेंद्र–"वह मंत्र कैसे त्याग कर सकता हूं?"

    सत्या०-"उसकी विधि मैं तुम्हें बतला दूंगा।"

    महेन्द्र-नया मन्त्र क्यों लेना पड़ेगा?"

    सत्या०-"संतान लोग वैष्णव हैं।"

    महेंद्र-“यह तो मेरी समझमें नहीं आता। ये संतान लोग कैसे वैष्णव हैं? वैष्णवों के लिये तो अहिंसा ही बड़ा भारी सत्या अहिंसावाले चैतन्यदेवके अनुयायी वैष्णव हैं। नास्तिक बौद्धधर्मके अनुकरणपर जो अप्राकृतिक वैष्णवधर्म उत्पन्न हुआ था, यह उलीका लक्षण है; परन्तु सच्चे वैष्णवधर्मका लक्षण दुष्टोंका दमन और धरित्रीका उद्धार है, क्योंकि विष्णु ही संसारके पालनकर्ता हैं। उन्होंने दस बार शरीर धारणकर पृथ्वीका उद्धार किया है। केशी, हिरण्यकशिपु, मधुकैटभ, मुर, नरक आदि दैत्यों, रावणादि राक्षसों और कंस तथा शिशुपाल आदि राजाओंको उन्होंने ही युद्ध में मार गिराया था। वे हो जेता, जयदाता, पृथ्वीके उद्धरकर्ता और सन्तानोंके इष्ट देवता हैं। चैतन्यदेवका वैष्णवधर्म तो अधूरा है। वह सच्चा वैष्णवधर्म नहीं है। चैतन्यदेवके विष्णु प्रेममय हैं, किन्तु भगवान केवल प्रेममय ही नहीं अनन्त शक्तिमय भी हैं। धर्म है।”

    चैतन्यके विष्णु केवल प्रेममय हैं सन्तानोंके विष्णु केवल शक्तिमय हैं। हम दोनों ही वैष्णव हैं, पर साधे ही वैष्णव हैं। बात समझमें आयी कि नहीं?"

    महेन्द्र-“नहीं, यह तो बिलकुल नयी बातें मालूम पड़ती कासिमबाजारमें एक बार एक पादरी मिला था। वह भी कुछ ऐसी ही बातें कहता था। कहता था कि ईश्वर प्रेममय हैं, तुम लोग ईसामसीहको प्यार करो। आपकी बातें भी उसी कीसी मालुम पड़ती हैं।"

    सत्या-"जैसी बातें हमारे बाप-दादे कहते चले आये हैं, वैसी ही बातें तो मैं कह रहा हूं। तुमने यह सुना है या नहीं कि ईश्वर त्रिगुणात्मक है?"

    महेन्द्र-"हां, सुना है। सत्त्व, रज और तम ये तीन गुण है।"

    सत्या०—“बहुत ठीक। इन तीनों गुणोंकी अलग-अलग उपासना होती है। सत्त्वगुणसे उनकी दया, दाक्षिण्य आदिकी उत्पत्ति होती है। उसकी उपासना भक्तिद्वारा करनी चाहिये। चैतन्यका सम्प्रदाय यही करता है। रजोगुणसे उनकी शक्ति उत्पन्न होती है। इसकी उपासना युद्धद्वारा की जाती है, देवताके शत्रुओंको मारकर की जाती है। हम लोग ऐसा ही करते हैं। और तमोगुणसे भगवान्ने शरीर धारण कर, चतुर्भुज आदि रूप इच्छानुसार धारण किये हैं। माला, चन्दन आदि उपहारोंके द्वारा इस गुणकी पूजा की जाती है। सर्वसाधारण ऐसा ही करते हैं। अब समझे या नहीं?"

    महेंद्र-“समझा। तब तो सन्तानगण भी एक प्रकारके उपासक ही हैं।"

    सत्या०-“अवश्य। हम लोग राज्य नहीं चाहते, पर चूँकि ये मुसलमान भगवान्से द्वेष करते हैं, इसीलिये हम उनको निर्मूल कर डालना चाहते हैं।"

    पांचवां परिच्छेद

    बातचीत समाप्त कर, सत्यानन्दने महेन्द्रको लेकर मठके भीतरवाले मदिरमें, जहां वह शोभामयी प्रकाण्ड चतुर्भुज मूर्ति विराजती थी, प्रवेश किया। उस समय वहांकी शोभा बड़ी ही विचित्र थी। सोने, चांदी और रत्नोंसे जगमगाते हुए प्रदीप मन्दिरको आलोकित कर रहे थे। ढेरके ढेरे फूल शोभायमान होते हुए मन्दिरमें सुगन्ध फैला रहे थे। एक आदमी वहां बैठा हुआ धोरे धीरे “हरे मुरारे" कह रहा था। सत्यानन्दके भीतर घुसते ही उसने उठकर उन्हें प्रणाम किया। ब्रह्मचारीने पूछा-“तुम दीक्षित होना चाहते हो?"

    उसने कहा, "मेरे ऊपर दया कीजिये।"

    यह सुन, उसे और महेन्द्रको सम्बोधन कर सत्यानन्दने कहा-"तुम लोगोंने यथाविधि स्नान कर लिया है न? अच्छी तरहसे संयम और उपवास किये हुए हो न?"

    उत्तर-"हां"

    सत्या०–"अच्छा, तुम लोग यहीं भगवान के सामने प्रतिज्ञा करो कि हम सन्तानधर्मके सब नियमोंका पालन करेंगे।'

    दोनों-"करेंगे।"

    सत्या०-"जबतक माताका उद्धार नहीं हो जाता, तबतक गृहस्थधर्मका परित्याग करोगे न?”

    दोनों-"हां, करेंगे।"

    सत्या०-"मां-बापको त्याग दोगे?"

    दोनों-"हां।"

    सत्या०-"भाई-बहनको?"

    दोनों०-"हाँ, उन्हें भी छोड़ देंगे।" सत्या०-"स्त्री-पुत्रको?"

    दोनों-"उन्हें भी त्याग देंगे।"

    सत्या०-"सगे-सम्बन्धियों और दास-दासियोंको?"

    दोनों-"उन्हें भी छोड़ देंगे।"

    सत्या०—“धन, सम्पद्, भोग विलास?"

    दोनों-"आजहीसे इन सबको छोड़ देंगे।"

    सत्या०-“इन्द्रियोंको वशमें रखोगे न? कभी किसी स्त्रीके साथ एक आसनपर न बैठोगे?"

    दोनों,-"नहीं बैठेंगे। इन्दियोंको वशमें रखेंगे।"

    सत्या०-"भगवान्के सामने प्रतिज्ञा करो, कि अपने लिये या अपने सगे-सम्बन्धियोंके लिये अर्थोपार्जन न करोगे। जो कुछ पैदा करोगे, उसे वैष्णवोंके धनागारमें दोगे।"

    दोनों-"हां, ऐसा ही करेंगे।"

    सत्या०-"सन्तानधर्मके लिये स्वयं अस्त्र हाथमें लेकर युद्ध करोगे न?"

    दोनों,-"हाँ"

    सत्या०-"रणसे कमी पीछे तो न हटोगे?"

    दोनों-"कभी नहीं।"

    सत्या०-“यदि तुम्हारी यह प्रतिज्ञा भङ्ग हो जाय?"

    दोनों-"तो जलती चितामें प्रवेश कर या विष खाकर प्राण त्याग कर देंगे।"

    सत्या०-"एक बात और है। तुम किस जातिके हो, महेन्द्र तो कायस्थ है।"

    दूसरेने कहा-“मैं तो ब्राह्मणका बालक हूं।"

    सत्या–"अच्छी बात है। क्या तुम अपनी जाति त्याग कर सकोगे? सब सन्तानोंकी जाति एक है। इस सदाव्रतमें ब्राह्मण शूद्रका कोई विचार नहीं है। बोलो, कहते हो?"

    दोनों-"हम सब एकही मांकी सन्तान हैं। अतएव हम-लोग जाति-पांतिका विचार न करेंगे।"

    सत्या०-"तब आओ, मैं तुम लोगोंको दीक्षा दूं। तुम लोगोंने जो प्रतिज्ञाए अभी की हैं, उन्हें कभी न तोड़ना। स्वयं मुरारी इसके साक्षी रहेंगे जिन्होंने रावण, कंस, हिरण्यकशिपु, जरासन्ध, शिशुपाल आदिको मार डाला था; जो सर्वान्तर्यामी, सर्वमय, सर्वशक्तिमान और सर्व नियन्ता हैं: जो इन्द्रके वज्र और बिल्लीके नखोंमें तुल्यरूपसे वास करते है, वे ही प्रतिज्ञा भंग करनेवालेको मारकर घोर नरकमें डाल देंगे।" दोनों-“बहुत अच्छा।

    सत्या०-"अच्छा, तो अब गाओ-वन्देमातरम्।”

    दोनों ही उस अकेले मातृमन्दिर में मातृ-स्तुतिका गान करने लगे। इसके बाद ब्रह्मचारीने उन लोगोंको यथाविधि दीक्षा दी।

    छठा परिच्छेद

    दीक्षा समाप्त कर सत्यानन्द महेन्द्रको एकान्त स्थानमें ले गये। दोनोंके बैठ जानेपर सत्यानन्दने कहा,-“देखो, बेटा! तुमने जो यह महाव्रत ग्रहण किया है, उससे मैं समझता हूं कि भगवान् हम लोगोंके प्रति अनुकूल हो रहे हैं। तुम्हारे हाथों माँका बहुत काम निकलेगा। तुम खूब मन लगाकर मेरी बातें सुनो। मैं तुमको जीवानन्द और भवानन्दके साथ-साथ वन-वन भटकते हुए युद्ध करनेको नहीं कहता। तुम पदचिह्न ग्राममें लौट जाओ। तुम्हें घरपर रहकर ही सन्तानधर्मका पालन करना होगा।"

    यह सुन, महेन्द्र बड़े हो विस्मित और दुःखित हुए, पर कुछ

    बोले नहीं। ब्रह्मचारी कहने लगे,-"यहां हमारा कोई आश्रय नहीं है-ऐसा कोई स्थान नहीं है, जहाँ यदि कोई प्रबल सेना आकर हमें घेर ले, तो हम रसद पानी ले, दरवाजा बन्द कर दस दिन निर्विघ्न रह सकें। हमारे पास कोई किला तो है नहीं तुम्हारे महल अटारी है, गांवपर तुम्हारा रोबदाब है। मेरी इच्छा है कि वहां एक गढ़ बनाऊँ। खाई और शहरपनाहोंके द्वारा पदचिह्न ग्रामको अच्छी तरह घेरकर, बीच बीचमें पहरेका इन्तजाम कर देने और बांधके ऊपर तोपें बैठा देनेसे बड़ा बढ़िया किला तैयार हो जायगा। तुम अपने घर चले जाओ, धीरे-धीरे सन्तान-सम्प्रदायके दो हजार आदमी भी वहां पहुंच जायेंगे। वेही लोग यह खाई और बांध वगैरह तैयार कर देंगे। तुम वहां एक बड़ासा लोहेका मकान बनवा लेना, जिसमें सन्तानोंका खजाना रहेगा। मैं अशर्फियोंसे भरे हुए सन्दूक एक एक कर तुम्हारे पास भेजता रहूंगा। तुम उसी धनसे धीरे-धीरे यह सब काम पूरा करा लेना। मैं जगह जगहसे होशियार कारीगर ढूढ़ कर वहां भेजूंगा। उनके पहुंच जानेपर तुम वहां कारखाना खोल देना, जिसमें तोप, गोला, गोली, बारूद, और बन्दूकें तैयार हुआ करेंगी। मैं इसीलिये तुम्हें घर जानेको कह रहा हूं।" महेन्द्रने सब स्वीकार कर लिया।

    सातवां परिच्छेद

    सत्यानन्दके चरणोंमें प्रणाम कर महेन्द्र जब चले गये, वह दूसरा शिष्य जो उसी दिन दीक्षित हुआ था, वहां आ पहुंचा। उसके प्रणाम करनेपर सत्यानन्दने उसे आशीर्वाद देकर मृगचर्मपर बैठनेके लिये कहा। इधर-उधरकी कुछ बातें करनेके

    अनन्तर उन्होंने कहा-"कृष्णमें तुम्हारी गहरी भक्ति है या नहीं?

    शिष्यने कहा-“सो कैसे कहूं? मैं जिसे भक्ति समझता हूं, वह या तो दुनियांकी आंखोंमें धूल झोंकना है या अपनी आत्माके साथ धोखा करना है।"

    सत्यानन्दने सन्तुष्ट होकर कहा-"ठीक कहते हो, जिससे भक्ति दिन दिन गहरी हो; वही काम करना। मैं आशीर्वाद करता हूं कि तुम्हारा प्रयास सफल होगा, क्योंकि तुम्हारी उमर अभी बहुत थोड़ी है। अच्छा, बेटा! मैं तुम्हें क्या कहकर पुकारा करूं? मैं तो यह बात पूछना ही भूल गया था।"

    नूतन सन्तानने कहा,-"आपकी जो इच्छा हो वही कहकर पुकारें। मैं तो वैष्णवोंका दासानुदास हूं।"

    सत्या०-"तुम्हारी यह नवीन अवस्था देखकर तो तुम्हें नवीनानन्द ही कहकर पुकारनेकी इच्छा होती है। बस आजसे तुम्हारा यही नाम हुआ। पर एक बात तो बतलाओ तुम्हारा पहला नाम क्या था? यदि कहने में कोई बाधा हो, तोभी कह देना। मुझसे कह दोगे, तो निश्चय जान रखो, कि कोई तीसरा यह न जानने पायेगा। सन्तानधर्मका मर्म यही है कि जो न कहने योग्य हो, वह बात भी गुरुसे कह देनी चाहिये। देनेसे कोई क्षति नहीं होती।"

    शिष्य-"मेरा नाम शान्तिराम देव शर्मा है।"

    "नहीं, तेरा नाम शान्तिर्माण पापिष्ठा है।"यह कहकर सत्यानन्दने अपने शिष्यकी काली और डेढ़ हाथ लम्बी दाढ़ी बायें हाथसे पकड़कर खींची। बस, नकली दाढ़ी झटसे अलग हो गयी। सत्यानन्दने कहा-“जा, बेटी! तू मेरे हो साथ धोखा-धड़ी करने आयी थी? यदि छकाने ही चली थी, तो फिर तूने यह डेढ़ हाथ लम्बी दाढ़ी क्यों लगायी। दाढ़ी अगर ठीक बैठ भी जाती, तो यह कोमल कण्ठस्वर और यह चितवन कैसे छिपा

    लेती? यदि मैं ऐसा बोदा होता, तो फिर इतने बड़े काममें हाथ क्योंकर लगाता?"

    लजायी हुई शान्ति दोनों हाथोंसे आंखें छिपाये और सिर झुकाये हुई कुछ देरतक बैठी रही। इसके बाद हाथ हटाकर उसने बूढ़े बाबापर एक तिरछी चितवनका वार कर कहा-"प्रभो! मैंने कुछ अपराध तो नहीं किया। क्या स्त्रियोंके हाथमें बल नहीं होता?"

    सत्या०-"उतना ही, जितना गायके खुरमें जल समा सकता है।"

    शान्ति-"आप क्या कभी सन्तानोंके बाहुबलकी परीक्षा भी लेते हैं?"

    सत्या०-"हाँ, लेता हूं।” यह कहकर सत्यानन्दने एक और कुछ थोड़ेसे लोहेके तार लाकर शान्तिके हाथमें देते हुए कहा-"इस फौलादके धनुषपर इस तारकी प्रत्यञ्चा चढ़ानी होती है। प्रत्यञ्चा दो हाथकी होती है। प्रत्यञ्चा चढ़ाते चढ़ाते धनुष उछल पड़ता है, जिससे प्रत्यञ्चा चढ़ाने-वाला ही दूर जा गिरता है। इसपर जो सही सलामत प्रत्यञ्चा चढ़ा दें, उसे ही मैं बलवान् समझता हूं।"

    शान्तिने उस धनुष और तीरकी भलीभांति परीक्षा कर कहा-"क्या सभी सन्तान इस परीक्षा में उत्तीर्ण हो चुके है?"

    सत्या०-"नहीं, मैंने इसके द्वारा उनके बलका अनुमानमात्र कर लिया है।"

    शान्ति-"कौन-कौन इस परीक्षामें उत्तीर्ण हुए हैं?"

    सत्या०-"सिर्फ चार आदमी।"

    शान्ति-"कौन-कौन? क्या मैं यह पूछ सकती हूं?"

    सत्या०-"हाँ, कोई आपत्ति नहीं है? एक तो मैं ही इस परीक्षा में उत्तीर्ण हो चुका हूं।"

    शान्ति-"और कौन कौन उत्तीर्ण हुए हैं?"

    ७ सत्या०-"जीवानन्द, भवानन्द और ज्ञानानन्द।”

    यह सुन, शान्तिने धनुष और तार लेकर झटपट धनुषका रौंदा कस दिया और ब्रह्मचारीके चरणोंके पास रख दिया।

    सत्यानन्द विस्मित, मीत और स्तम्भित हो गये। थोड़ी देर बाद बोले-“यह क्या? तुम देवी हो या मानवी?"

    शान्तिने हाथ जोड़कर कहा, "मैं सामान्य मानवी हूं। पर हाँ, ब्रह्मचारिणी हूं।"

    सत्या–"सो कैसे? क्या तुम बालविधवा हो? नहीं बाल-विधवाओंमें भी इतना बल नहीं होता, क्योंकि वे एक ही समय भोजन करती हैं।"

    शान्ति-"मैं सधवा हूं।"

    सत्या०-"तो क्या तुम्हारा स्वामी लापता है?"

    शान्ति-"नहीं, उनका पता ठिकाना है और मैं उन्हींका पता पाकर यहां आयी भी हूं।"

    सहसा सत्यानन्दके वित्तमें एक बात वैसे ही झलक आयी, जैसे मेघमालाको हटाकर एकाएक धूप निकल आये। उन्होंने कहा,-"अच्छा मुझे याद आ गया। जीवानन्दकी स्त्रीका नाम शान्ति था। कहीं तुम जीवानन्दकी ही स्त्री तो नहीं हो?"

    नवीनानन्दने अपने मुँहको जटासे ढक लिया, मानो कमल-के फलोंपर हाथीकी सूंड़ फैल गयी। सत्यानन्द बोले-“तू यह पाप करने क्यों आयी?"

    एकाएक अपनी जटाको पीठपर फेंक, शान्तिने मूंह उठाकर कहा-“प्रभो! पाप कैसा? पत्नीका स्वामीका अनुसरण करना क्या पाप कहलाता है? यदि सन्तानोंका धर्मशास्त्र इसे पाप बतलाता हो, तो यह सन्तानधर्म अधर्म है। मैं उनको सहधर्मिणी हूं। वे धर्माचरणमें लगे हैं, इसलिये मैं उनके धर्ममें सहायता करने आयी हूं।"

    शांतिकी तेजभरी वाणी सुन, और उसकी बांकी गरदन,

    उठी हुई छाती, काँपते हुए अधर और उज्ज्वल तथा नीरपूर्ण नेत्र देख, सत्यानन्द बड़े ही प्रसन्न हुए, बोले,-"तुम साध्वी हो, इसमें सन्देह नहीं, किन्तु बेटी! पत्नी केवल गृहधर्म में ही सहधर्मिणी मानी जाती है। वीरधर्म में रमणीको सहायता कैसी?"

    शान्ति-"कौनसे महावीर बिना पत्निके ही वीर हो गये हैं? यदि सीता न होती तो राम थोड़े ही वीर हो सकते थे? बतलाइये तो सही, अर्जुनने कितने विवाह किये थे? भीममें जितना बल था, उनके उतनी ही पत्नियां भी थीं। कहाँतक कहूँ? आपको बतलानेकी जरूरत नहीं है।"

    सत्या०-"ठीक है, पर कौन वीर अपनी स्त्रीको लेकर रणभूमिमें गया हैं?"

    सत्या०-अर्जुन जिस समय यादवी सेनाके साथ आकाश मार्गसे युद्ध कर रहे थे, उस समय किसने उनका रथ चलाया था? द्रौपदी यदि साथ न रहती, तो पाण्डवगण कुरुक्षेत्रको लड़ाई में जूझने थोड़े ही जाते?"

    सत्या०-"ठीक है; पर साधारण लोगोंके मन स्त्रियों को देखकर चंचल हो जाते हैं, जिससे वे काममें ढिलाई करने लगते हैं। इसीलिये सन्तानोंसे यह प्रतिज्ञा करायी जाती है कि वे किसी स्त्रोके साथ एक आसनपर न बैठे। जीवानन्द मेरा दाहिना हाथ है। तुम क्या मेरा दाहिना हाथ ही तोड़ने चली हो?"

    शान्ति-"नहीं, मैं आपके दाहिने हाथका बल बढ़ाने आयी हूं। मैं ब्रह्मचारिणी हूं और प्रभुके पास ब्रह्मचारिणी ही बनकर रहूंगी। मैं केवल धर्माचरण करने आयी हूँ स्वामीके दर्शन करनेके लिये नहीं। मैं विरहकी ज्वालासे जल नहीं रही हूं। स्वामीने जो धर्म स्वीकार किया है, उसमें मेरा हिस्सा क्यों न होगा? यही सोचकर मैं चली आयी हूँ।"

    सत्या०-“अच्छी बात है, मैं कुछ दिनोंतक परीक्षा लूंगा।"

    शान्तिने पूछा-“मैं आनन्दमठमें रहने पाऊंगी न?”

    सत्या०-"तो आज फिर कहाँ जाओगी?"

    शान्ति-"इसके बाद?”

    सत्या०-"माता भवानीकी तरह तुम्हारे ललाटमें भी अग्नि है। सन्तान-सम्प्रदायको ही क्यों भस्म करोगी?"

    यह कह, आशीर्वाद दे, सत्यानन्दने शान्तिको विदा किया। शान्तिने आपही आप कहा-"अच्छा बुड्ढे! रह जा मेरे ललाटमें आग लगी है न? अच्छा, तो मैं देखूंगी, कि तेरी माँके कपालमें आग लगी है या मेरे?"

    सच पूछो, तो सत्यानन्दका यह अभिप्राय नहीं था उन्होंने उसकी आँखोंमें जो बिजली थी, उसीकी बात कही थी। पर क्या ऐसी बात किसी बूढ़े-बड़ेको नौजवानोंसे कहनी चाहिये।

    आठवां परिच्छेद

    शान्तिको उस दिन रातभरके लिये मठमें रहनेको आज्ञा मिली थी, इसलिये वह रहने के लिये घर ढूंढने लगी। अनेक घर खाली पड़े थे। गोवर्द्धन नामका नौकर वह भी एक छोटा-मोटा सन्तान हो था हाथमें चिराग लिये उसे घर दिखाता फिरता था। कोई घर शान्तिको पसन्द नहीं आया। हताश होकर गोवर्द्धन शान्तिको सत्यानन्दके पास ले चला। शान्तिने कहा-"क्यों भाई! इधरके कई घर तो तुमने दिखलाये ही नहीं?"

    गोवर्द्धनने कहा,-"वे सब घर अच्छे है, इसमें सन्देह नहीं; पर सबमें आदमी भरे हैं।"

    शान्ति-"कैसे केसे लोग हैं "

    गोव०-"बड़े-बड़े सेनापतिगण।"

    शांति-"बड़े बड़े सेनापति कौन-कौन है?

    गोव०-"भवानन्द, जीवानंद, धीरानंद, ज्ञानानंद। इस आनन्दमठमें सब आनन्द-ही-आनन्द हैं।"

    शांति-"चलो, मैं जरा उन घरोंको देख लूं।"

    यह सुन, गोवर्द्धन पहले तो शांतिको धौरानन्दके घरमें ले उस समय धीरानन्द महाभारतका द्रोणपर्व पढ़ रहे थे। अभिमन्युने किस प्रकार सप्तरथियोंके साथ युद्ध किया था यही पढ़नेमें वे डूबे हुए थे। उन्होंने कुछ भी न कहा। शान्ति भी चुपचाप वहांसे लौट आयी।

    इसके बाद वह भवानन्दके घर गयी। उस समय वे ऊपरको दृष्टि किये, किसीका मुखड़ा याद कर रहे थे। किसका मुखड़ा, सो तो नहीं मालूम, पर शायद वह मुख बड़ा ही सुन्दर था। उसके काले-काले घुघराले और सुगधियुक्त केश कानोंतक फैली हुई भौहोंपर आ पड़े थे। बीचमें विराजित सुंदर और त्रिकोण ललाटपर मृत्युकी भयङ्कर छाया पड़ रही थी मानों वहां मृत्यु और मृत्युञ्जयका आपसमें द्वन्द्व युद्ध हो रहा था। आंखें नद, भौंहें स्थिर, होंठ नीले, गाल पीले, नाक ठंढ़ी, छाती फूली हुई और हवासे कपड़े उड़ रहे थे। इसके बाद जैसे शरतकालका मेघ निर्मुक्त चन्द्रमा धीरे-धीरे मेघमालाको उज्ज्वल बनाता हुआ अपना सौंदर्य विकसित करता है, जैसे प्रभात सूर्य तरङ्गोंके आकारवाले मेघोंको क्रमसे सुनहला बनाता हुआ आप ही जगमगा उठता है; दशों दिशाओंको आलोकित करता हुआ स्थल, जल, कीट, पतङ्ग सबको प्रफुल्लित करता है, उसी तरहसे धीरे-धीरे उस मृत देहमें मानों प्राण-संञ्चार हो रहा था। अहा! कैसी शोभा है! भवानन्द बैठे बैठे यही सब सोच रहे थे। इसलिये वे भी कुछ न बोले। कल्याणीका रूप देखकर उनका हृदय कातर हो गया था, इसीलिये शांतिके रूपपर उनकी दृष्टि न पड़ी। शांति एक दूसरे कमरे में चली गयी। वहां पहुंचकर उसने पूछा-“यह घर किसका है?"

    गोवर्द्धनने कहा-“जीवानन्द महाराजका।"

    शांति-"ये कौन हैं, भाई? यहाँ तो कोई नजर ही नहीं आता।"

    गोवर्द्धन-“मालूम होता है, कि वे कहीं गये हैं। अभी आते होंगे।"

    शांति,-"यह घर तो सबोंसे अच्छा है।"

    गोवर्द्धन-“पर इस घरमें तो आपको जगह नहीं मिल सकती।"

    शांति-"क्यों?"

    गोवर्द्धन-"क्योंकि यहां जीवानन्द महाराज रहते हैं।"

    शांति, "वे किसी और घरमें जा रहेंगे।"

    गोवर्द्धन-"भला ऐसा भी कभी हो सकता है? घरमें रहते हैं, वे ही एक तरहसे सबके मालिक हैं। वे जो कुछ करते हैं, वही होता है।”

    शान्ति-"अच्छा, तुम जाओ, मुझे यहां जगह न मिलेगी, तो पेड़की छाया तो है?" यह कह, गोवर्द्धनको वहांसे हटाकर शान्ति उस घरके अंदर चली गयी। भीतर आ जीवानन्दके काले हरिनके चमड़ेपर आसन जमाकर बैठ गयी और दीयेको जरा तेजकर जीवानन्दकी एक पुस्तक हाथमें लेकर पढ़ने लगी।

    कुछ ही देरमें वहां जीवानन्द आ पहुंचे। शान्तिको मर्दाना पोशाकमें देखकर भी वे झट उसे पहचान गये और बोले,-"यह क्या? ऐं! शान्ति?"

    शान्तिने धीरे धीरे उस पुस्तकको नीचे रख दिया और जीवानन्दकी ओर देखते हुए कहा-“शान्ति किसका नाम है, जी"

    जीवानन्दको तो काठसा मार गया उनकी बोली बन्द हो गयी। अपनेको बहुत कुछ सम्हाल कर वे बोले,-"क्या तुम शांति नहीं हो?"

    शान्तिने घृणाके साथ कहा,-"नहीं, मेरा नाम नवीनानन्द गोस्वामी है।" यह कह, वह फिर पुस्तक पढ़ने लगी।

    जीवानन्द बड़े जोरसे हंस पड़े, बोले,–“यह तो गिलहरी एकदम नया रङ्ग लायी है। अच्छा, तो कहो नवीनानन्दजी! तुम्हारा यहां किस लिये आना हुआ?"

    शान्तिने कहा,-"भले आदमियोंके बातचीत करनेका यह नियम है, कि पहले पहलकी देखादेखोमें बातचीत करते समय आप या जनाब वगैरह कहकर पुकारते हैं। आप देख रहे होंगे; कि मैं स्वयं भी आपके प्रति कोई अनादरसूचक शब्द मूंहसे नहीं निकालती। फिर आप क्यों मुझे तुम तुम कह रहे हैं?" “जो आज्ञा सरकारकी' कहकर जीवानन्दने गले में चादरलपेट, दोनों हाथ जोड़कर कहा,–"अब यह दास आपसे विनयके साथ यह निवेदन करता है, कि आप कृपाकर इसे यह बतला दें, कि आपका भरुईपुरसे शुभागमन किस निमित्त हुआ?"

    शान्तिने बड़ी गम्भीरतासे कहा,-"अब आपने यह व्यर्थकी तानेजनी शुरू की। इसकी तो कोई जरूरत नहीं थी। मुझे भरुईपुरका नामतक नहीं मालूम। मैंने आज यहां आकर सन्तानधर्मको दीक्षा ग्रहण की है।"

    जीवा०—“ऐं, यह तो सब चौपट हुआ देखता हूं। क्या यह सच है?"

    शान्ति–“चौपट क्यों? आपने भी दीक्षा ली है?"

    जीवा०-"तुम स्त्री जो ठहरी।"

    शान्ति-"यह क्या? यह बात आपको कैसे मालूम हुई?”

    जीवा०-“मेरा विश्वास था, कि मेरी ब्राह्मणी स्त्री जातिकी है।" शान्ति-"ब्राह्मणी? तो क्या आपके ब्राह्मणी भी है?"

    जीवा-“थी तो सही।"

    शान्ति-"इसीसे आपको सन्देह हो रहा था, कि मैं ही आपकी ब्राह्मणी हूं?" जीवानन्दने हाथ जोड़ और गले में चादर लपेट विनयपूर्वक कहा,-"हां सरकार!"

    शान्ति-“यदि आपके मनमें इस प्रकार हंसीकी बातें पैदा हुआ करती हैं, तो कहिये, आपका कर्त्तव्य क्या है?"

    जीवा०-"आपके कपड़े जबरदस्ती हटाकर आपके होठोंका रसपान करना ही, और क्या।"

    शान्ति-“यह आपकी दुष्टबुद्धि अथवा अधिक गांजा पीनेका परिचय है। आपने दीक्षाके समय शपथ की थी, कि स्त्रियोंके साथ कभी एक आसनपर नहीं बैठेंगे। यदि आपका यह विश्वास हैं कि मैं स्त्री हूं इस तरह रस्सीमें सांपका भ्रम बहुतोंको हुआ करता है तो आपके लिये उचित यही है, कि अलग आसनपर बैठिये। आपको मेरे साथ बातचीत भी नहीं करनी चाहिये।"

    यह कह, शान्तिने फिर पुस्तकमें मन लगाया। परास्त हो कर जीवानन्दने अलग शय्या बिछायी और उसीपर शयन किया।

    आनन्दमठ।

    तीसरा खण्ड।

    पहिला परिच्छेद

    ईश्वरकी कृपासे ११७६ का साल समाप्त हो गया। बङ्गाल की पूरी जनसंख्याके छः आने मनुष्योंको (जो न जाने कितने करोड़ रहे होंगे) यमपुर भेजकर वह दुष्ट संवत्सर आप ही काल के गालमें चला गया। सन् १९७७ सालमें ईश्वरने दया की, पानी अच्छा बरसा, पृथ्वीने खूब अन्न उपजाये। जो लोग जीते बचे थे, उन्होंने पेटभर खानेको पाया। बहुतेरे लोग अनाहार या अल्पाहारके कारण रोगी हो गये थे। वे भरपेट ठूस ठूस कर खानेसे ही मर गये। पृथ्वी तो शस्यशालिनी हुई, पर गांवके गांव खाली नजर आते थे। सुनसान घरोंमें केवल चहे डण्ड पेलते नजर आते या भूत-प्रेत फिरा करते थे। गाँव गाँवमें सैकड़ों बीघे जमीन बिना जोते-बोये ऊसर सी पड़ी रही, जिसमें जंगल सा बन गया। देशभरमें जंगलोंकी भरमार हो गयी। जहाँ लहराते हुए हरेभरे धानके खेत दिखाई देते थे, जहां असंख्य गाय भैंसें चरती नजर आती थीं, जो बाग बगीचे गांवके युवक और युवतियोंकी प्रमोद भूमि थी, वे सब स्थान क्रमशः घोर जंगल होने लगे। एक वर्षे दो वर्ष करते करते तीन वर्ष बीत गये। जंगलोंकी संख्या बढ़ती ही चली गयी। जो स्थान मनुष्योंके सुखका स्थान था, वहाँ नर-मांस-भोजी बाघ आकर हरिण आदि जानवरोंका शिकार करने लगे। जहाँ सुन्दरियों की टोली महावरसे रंगे हुए पैरोंको पैजनियोंको बजाती, हमजोलियोंके साथ हंसी ठठोली करती, इतराती और बतराती जाती थीं, वहाँ रीछोंकी मांद और अड्डे बन गये हैं। जहां छोटे छोटे बच्चे बालकालमें सन्ध्या समय खिले हुए चमेलीके फूलको तरह प्रफुल्लित होकर हदयको तृप्त

    करनेवाली किलकारियां सुनाया करते थे, वहीं अब झण्डके झंड मतवाले जंगली हाथी वृक्षोंकी डालें तोड़ते नजर आने लगे। जहां कभी दुर्गाजीकी पूजा हुआ करती वहां स्यारोंकी मांद हो गयी, जहां सावन में ठाकुरजीका झूला होता था वहां आज उल्लुओंने अपना अड्डा जमा लिया। नाट्य भवनमें दिनदहाड़े काले नाग मेढ़क खोजने लगे। बंगाल में आज अन्न उपजा है तो खानेवाले नदारद हैं, बिकनेवाली चीजें पैदा हुई है पर कोई खरीदार नहीं है। किसानोंने खेती की, पर रुपया नहीं पाया। इसीलिये वे जमींदारको मालगुजारी नदे सके। राजाने जमींदारोंसे मालगुजारी न पाकर उनकी जमींदारियां जब्त करनी शुरू कीं, इसलिये धीरे धीरे जमींदार दरिद्र होने लगे। वसुमतीने खूब अन्न उपजाये, पर किसीको धन नहीं मिला-सबका घर धनसे छूंछा ही नजर आने लगा। लूट-खसोटके दिन आये; चोर डाकुओंने सिर उठाया, सजन लोग डरके मारे घरोंमें छिप रहे।

    इधर सन्तान सम्प्रदायवाले नित्य चन्दन और तुलसीदलसे विष्णु भगवानके पादपद्मोंकी पूजा करते और जिसके घरमें पिस्तौल या बन्दूक मिलती, उसके घरमें घुसकर उसे छीन लाते। भवानन्दने सब किसीसे कह दिया था, कि “अगर किसी घरमें एक और मणि-माणिक्य और हीरा मोती हो और दूसरी ओर एक टूटी हुई बन्दुक पड़ी हो, तो सब मणि-माणिक्य और हीरा-मोती छोड़कर वह टूटी हुई बन्दुक ही ले आना।"

    इसके बाद वे लोग गांव गांवमें अपने दूत भेजने लगे। वे लोग जिस किसी ग्राममें जाते, वहांके हिन्दुओंको देख देखकर कहते,-"क्कों भाई! विष्णु-पूजा करोगे?" यही कह कहकर वे २०-२५ आदमियोंका दल बांध लेते और मुसलमानोंके गांवमें जाकर उनके घरोंमें आग लगा देते थे। मुसलमान बेचारे इधर अपनी जान बचानेमें लगते, तबतक उधर सन्तान सम्प्रदायवाले उनका सर्वस्व लूट पाटकर नये विष्णु-भक्तोंको बांट देते थे।

    लूटका माल पाकर जब गांववाले बड़े आनन्दित होते, तब ये लोग उन्हें विष्णु-मन्दिरमें ला, प्रतिमाके पैर छुलाकर उन्हें सन्तान धर्म में दीक्षित कर लेते थे। लोगोंने देखा कि सन्तान होने में तो बड़ा लाभ है। मुसलमानी सलतनतकी अराजकता और कुशासनके कारण सब कोई मुसलमानोंसे जल उठे थे। हिन्दू धर्म लुप्त हुआ जा रहा था, इसलिये बहुतसे लोग हिन्दुत्वकी स्थापनाके लिये भी चिन्तित हो रहे थे, अतएव दिन दिन सन्तानोंकी संख्या बढ़ने लगी। एक एक दिनमें सैकड़ों और एक एक महीनेमें हजारों नये नये लोग आकर सन्तान बनने और भवानन्द तथा जीवानन्दके चरणोंमें सिर झुकाने लगे। तथा दलके दल चारों ओर मुसलमानोंको दण्ड देनेके लिये जाने लगे। वे जहां कहीं राजकर्मचारियोंको देख पाते, वहीं उनकी मरम्मत करने लगते। कभी कभी तो उनके प्राण ही ले डालते थे। जहां कहीं सरकारी खजाना पाते उसपर छापा मारते, और लूट पाट कर घर ले आते। जहां कहीं मुसलमानोंकी बस्ती मिलती, उसमें आग लगा देते और गांवके गांव जलाकर धूलमें मिला देते। राजपुरुषगण इनका दमन करनेके लिये फौज रवाना करने लगे, पर इस समय सन्तानोंका दल खूब हुआ था। उनके पास हथियार भी काफी थे और वे ठीक भी हो गये थे। उनके वीर दर्पके आगे मुसलमान सैनिकोंके पैर आगे नहीं बढ़ते थे। यदि कदाचित् वे आगे आते तो सन्तानगण अपने अमित बल पराक्रमसे उनपर भीषण आक्रमण करते, उनके दलको छिन्न भिन्नकर हरि हरिको ध्वनि करते। यदि किसी सन्तान दलको मुसलमान सैनिक परास्त कर डालते, तो उसी समय उनके सम्प्रदायका दूसरा दल वहां आ पहुंचता ओर जीतनेवालोंके सिर घड़से जुदा कर हरि हरि कहता हुआ निकल जाता था।

    इस समय परम प्रसिद्ध, भारतीय अंगरेज कुलके प्रातः सूर्य वारन हेस्टिंग्ज भारतवर्षके गवर्नर जनरल थे। कलकत्तेमें बैठे

    बैठे लोहे की सीकड़ तैयार कर उन्होंने सोचा कि मैं इसी सीकड़में सप्तद्वीपा और ससागरा भूमिको बांध रखूंगा। एक दिन सिंहासनपर बैठे हुए जगदीश्वरने भी 'तथास्तु' कह दिया था; पर अब वह दिन नहीं रहे। आज तो सन्तानोंकी भीषण हरि ध्वनि को सुनकर वारन हेस्टिंग्जका कलेजा कांप उठा।

    वारन हेस्टिंग्जने पहले फौजदारी सैन्य द्वारा विद्रोहको दवानेकी चेष्टा की, किन्तु उन सिपाहियोंका तो इन दिनों यह हाल हो रहा था कि वे यदि किसी बुढ़ियाके मुंहसे भी हरि नाम सुन लेते तो सिरपर पैर रखकर भाग जाते थे। इसीसे लाचार होकर वारन हेस्टिंग्जने कप्तान टामस नामक एक बड़े ही चतुर सैनिककी अध्यक्षतामें कम्पनीके सिपाहियोंका एक दल विद्रोह दबाने के लिये भेजा।

    कप्तान टामसने विद्रोही दमनका अत्यन्त उत्तम प्रबन्ध किया। उन्होंने राजा और जमीन्दारोंसे सिपाही मांगकर कम्पनीके सुशिक्षित, सुसजित और अत्यन्त बलिष्ठ देशी विदेशी सैनिकोंके साथ मिला दिये। इसके बाद उस सम्मिलित सैन्यको अलग अलग टुकड़ियों में बांटकर उन्होंने एक एक टुकड़ोको सुयोग्य सैनिकोंके अधीन कर दिया। इसके बाद कौन सी टुकड़ी किस ओर भेजी जाय, इसका बन्दोबस्त किया। उन्होंने सब किसीसे कह दिया,-"देखो, तुम अमुक प्रदेशमें जाकर जाल की तरह फैल जावो। जहां कहीं कोई शत्रु नजर जाये, उसे वहीं चींटीको तरह मसल डालना।" कम्पनीके सिपाहियोंमेंसे कोई गांजेका दम लगाकर और कोई शराब पीकर बन्दूक लिये हुए सन्तानोंको मारने जाते, परन्तु सन्तानगण इतने असंख्य और ऐसे अजेय थे कि कप्तान टामसके सैनिक घासकी तरह कटते गये। हरि हरिकी ध्वनिसे कप्तान टामसके कान बहरे हो गये।

    अब क्या डर है अब अपने बाल-बच्चोंको कलकत्तेसे यहीं ले आओ; विद्रोहका तो मैंने अंत ही कर दिया। डनवर्थ साहबने कहा,-"अच्छी बात है, आप यहां दस दिन और ठहर जाइये। देशथोड़ा और स्थिर हो जाय, तब मैं अपने स्त्री-पुत्र आदिको बुलवा लूंगा।" डनवर्थ साहबने बहुतसी मुर्गियां और भेड़ें पाल रखी थीं। उनके यहांका पनीर भी अच्छा होता था। तरह तरह को जंगली चिड़ियोंका मांस उनके भोजनालयकी शोभा बढ़ाया करता था। इधर लम्बी दाढ़ीवाला बावर्ची भी मानों द्रौपदीका ही अवतार था। इसलिये कप्तान टामस बड़ी बेतकल्लुफीके लाथ वहीं रहने लगे।

    इधर भवानन्द मन ही मन दांत पीस रहे थे। वे यही सोच रहे थे कि कब टामस साहबका सिर काटकर द्वितीय सम्बरारिकी उपाधि धारण कर लूं। अंग्रेज लोग भारतवर्षकी भलाई करने आये हैं, उस समय संतानोंकी समझमें यह बात नहीं आती थी। समझते भी कैसे? कप्तान टामसके समान अंगरेज भी इस बातको नहीं जानते थे। उस समय यह बात विधाताके मनमें ही छिपी हुई थी। भवानन्द सोच रहे थे, “एक दिन इन असुरोंका सवंश नाश करूंगा। सबको जमा होकर यहां चले आने दो, बस उनकी जरा सी असावधानी देखते ही उनपर टूट पड़गा। अभी जरा दूर ही दूर रहनेका काम है।” इसीलिये वे अपने दलबल समेत दूर ही दूर रहे। कप्तान टामस निष्कण्टक होकर द्रौपदोके गुणों की बानगी लेने लगे।

    साहब बहादुरको शिकारका बड़ा शौक था, इसलिये वे कभी कभी शिवग्रामके पासवाले जंगलमें शिकार खेलनेके लिये जाया करते थे। एक दिन टामस साहब डनवर्थ साहबके साथ घोड़ेपर सवार हो, कई एक शिकारियों के साथ शिकार खेलने निकले यह तो कहना ही व्यर्थ है कि टामस साहब बड़े भारी साहसी और बलवीर्यमें अंगरेजोंमें भी अद्वितीय थे,

    वह घना जंगल बाघों, भैसों और भालुओंसे भरा हुआ होनेके कारण बड़ा भयावह था। इसलिये कुछ दूर आनेपर शिकारियोंने आगे बढ़नेसे इनकार कर दिया। वे बोले,—"बस, अब आगे भीतर जानेका रास्ता नहीं है। हमलोग तो अब आगे नहीं जा सकते।" एक बार डनवर्थ साहब इसी जंगलमें एक भयानक शेरके पंजे में पड़ते पड़ते बच गये थे, इसलिये उन्होंने भी आगे जाना स्वीकार नहीं किया-सबको इच्छा लौटनेकी ही थी। कप्तान टामसने कहा,-"तुम लोग न जाओगे, तो लौट जाओ, पर मैं तो अब नहीं लौटता।" यह कह, कप्तान साहब उस घोर जंगलमें घुस पड़े।

    सचमुच उस जंगलमें रास्ता नहीं था। घोड़ा आगे न बढ़ सका; पर साइब घोडेको छोड़, कन्धेपर बन्दूक लिये अकेले ही आगे बढ़े। वे घुसे तो बाघकी खोजमें थे; पर खोजते-खोजते हैरान हो गये, तो भी कहीं बाघ न दिखाई दिया। उसके बदले उन्होंने देखा कि एक बड़े भारी पेड़के नीचे खिले हुए फूलोंवालो लताओं और छोटे छोटे पौधोंके बीच में न जाने कौन बैठा है? वह एक नवीन संन्यासी था, जिसके रूपसे वह सारा जंगल उज्ज्वल हो रहा था। खिले हुए फूल मानों उसके स्वर्गीय शरीरके सम्पर्कलसे और भी अधिक सुगन्धमय हो गये थे। कप्तान साहब भौंचक से हो रहे पर तुरन्तही क्रोध आ गया। वे हिन्दुस्तानी बोली विचित्र तरहसे बोलते थे। उन्होंने पूछा,-"टुम कौन हाय?"

    संन्यासीने कहा, "मैं संन्यासी हू।"

    कप्तानने पूछा,-"टुम बागी है?"

    संन्यासी-“यह किस जानवरका नाम है?"

    कप्तान-“हम टुमको गुली मार देगा।"

    संन्यासी-"मार दो।”

    कप्तान मन हो मन विचार कर रहे थे, कि गोली मारुं

    ८

    या न मारुं, कि इतने उस संन्यासीने बिजली की तरह तड़पकर साहबके हाथकी बन्दूक छीन ली। इसके बाद संन्यासीने अपना रक्षावरण-चर्म खोलकर फेंक दिया और एक ही झटके में जटा भी हटाकर दूर कर दी। कप्तान टामसने देखा, कि एक अपूर्व सुन्दरी सामने खड़ी है। सुन्दरीने हँसते हँसते कहा,-"साहब! मैं स्त्री हूं; मैं किसीको मारती नहीं। मैं तुमसे पूछती हूँ कि हिन्दू मुसलमानोंमें झगड़ा होता है, तुम लोग क्यों बीचमें कूदते हो? अपने घर चले जाओ।"

  • 說苑, Volume 5-8

    說苑, Volume 5-8

    Aproximadamente 4.651 palavras.

    Produced by Nicole Lai

    卷五 貴德

    圣人之于天下百姓也,其猶赤子乎!飢者則食之,寒者則衣之;將之
    養之,育之長之;惟恐其不至于大也。詩曰:“蔽芾甘棠,勿剪勿伐,召
    伯所茇。”傳曰:自陝以東者周公主之,自以西者召公主之。召公述職當
    桑蚕之時,不欲變民事,故不入邑中,舍于甘棠之下而听斷焉,間之人皆
    得其所。是故后世思而歌誄之,善之,故言之;言之不足,故嗟嘆之;嗟
    嘆之不足,故歌詠之。夫詩思然后積,積然后滿,滿然后發,發由其道而
    致其位焉;百姓嘆其美而致其敬,甘棠之不伐也,政教惡乎不行!孔子曰
    :“吾于甘棠,見宗廟之敬也。”甚尊其人,必敬其位,順安万物,古圣
    之道几哉!仁人之德教也,誠惻隱于中,悃于內,不能已于其心;故其治
    天下也,如救溺人,見天下強陵弱,眾暴寡;幼孤羸露,死傷系虜,不忍
    其然,是以孔子歷七十二君,冀道之一行而得施其德,使民生于全育,安
    土,万物熙熙,各樂其終,卒不遇,故睹麟而泣,哀道不行,德澤不洽,
    于是退作春秋,明素王之道,以示后人,恩施其惠,未嘗輟忘,是以百王
    尊之,志士法焉,誦其文章,傳今不絕,德及之也。詩曰:“載馳載驅,
    周爰咨謀。”此之謂也。圣王布德施惠,非求報于百姓也;郊望診嘗,非
    求報于鬼神也。山致其高,云雨起焉;水致其深,蛟龍生焉;君子致其道
    德而福祿歸焉。夫有陰德者必有陽報,有隱行者必有昭名,古者溝防不修
    ,水為人害,禹鑿龍門,辟伊闕,平治水土,使民得陸處;百姓不親,五
    品不遜,契教以君臣之義,父子之親,夫婦之辨,長幼之序;田野不修,
    民食不足,后稷教之,辟地墾草,糞土樹谷,令百姓家給人足;故三后之
    后,無不王者,有陰德也。周室衰,禮義廢,孔子以三代之道,教導于后
    世,繼嗣至今不絕者,有隱行也。周頌曰:“丰年多黍多,亦有高廩,万
    億及秭,為酒為醴,A畀祖妣,以洽百禮,降福孔偕。”禮記曰:“上牲
    損則用下牲,下牲損則祭不備物。”以其舛之為不樂也。故圣人之于天下
    也,譬猶一堂之上也,今有滿堂飲酒者,有一人獨索然向隅而泣,則一堂
    之人皆不樂矣;圣人之于天下也,譬猶一堂之上也,有一人不得其所,則
    孝子不敢以其物荐進。
    魏武侯浮西河而下,中流顧謂吳起曰:“美哉乎!河山之固也,此魏
    國之寶也。”吳起對曰:“在德不在險。昔三苗氏左洞庭,右彭蠡,德義
    不修,而禹滅之;夏桀之居,左河濟,右太華,伊闕在其南,羊腸在其北
    ,修政不仁,湯放之;殷紂之國,左孟門而右太行,常山在其北,太河經
    其南,修政不德,武王伐之。由此觀之,在德不在險。若君不修德,船中
    之人盡敵國也。”武侯曰:“善!”
    武王克殷,召太公而問曰:“將奈其士眾何?”太公對曰:“臣聞愛
    其人者,兼屋上之烏;憎其人者,惡其余胥;咸劉厥敵,使靡有余,何如
    ?”王曰:“不可。”太公出,邵公入,王曰:“為之奈何?”邵公對曰
    :“有罪者殺之,無罪者活之,何如?”王曰:“不可。”邵公出,周公
    入,王曰:“為之奈何?”周公曰:“使各居其宅,田其田,無變舊新,
    唯仁是親,百姓有過,在予一人!”武王曰:“廣大乎,平天下矣。凡所
    貴士君子者,以其仁而有德也!”
    孔子曰:“里仁為美,擇不處仁,焉得智!”夫仁者,必恕然后行,
    行一不義,殺一無罪,雖以得高官大位,仁者不為也。夫大仁者,愛近以
    及遠,及其有所不諧,則虧小仁以就大仁。大仁者,恩及四海;小仁者,
    止于妻子。妻子者,以其知營利,以婦人之恩撫之,飾其內情,雕畫其偽
    ,孰知其非真,雖當時蒙榮,然士君子以為大辱,故共工、蹭兜、符里、
    鄧析,其智非無所識也,然而為圣王所誅者,以無德而苟利也。豎刁、易
    牙,毀体殺子以干利,卒為賊于齊。故人臣不仁,篡s之亂生;人臣而仁
    ,國治主榮;明主察焉,宗廟大宁,夫人臣猶貴仁,況于人主乎!故桀紂
    以不仁失天下,湯武以積德有海土,是以圣王貴德而務行之。孟子曰:“
    推恩足以及四海;不推恩不足以保妻子。古人所以大過人者無他焉,善推
    其所有而已。”
    晏子飲景公酒,令器必新,家老曰:“財不足,請斂于民。”晏子曰
    :“止。夫樂者,上下同之,故天子与天下,諸侯与境內,自大夫以下各
    与其僚,無有獨樂;今上樂其樂,下傷其費,是獨樂者也,不可。”
    齊桓公北伐山戎氏,其道過燕,燕君逆而出境,桓公問管仲曰:“諸
    侯相逆固出境乎?”管仲曰:“非天子不出境。”桓公曰:“然則燕君畏
    而失禮也,寡人不道而使燕君失禮,乃割燕君所至之地以与燕君。”諸侯
    聞之,皆朝于齊。詩云:“靖恭爾位,好是正直,神之听之,介爾景福。
    ”此之謂也。
    景公探爵,弱故反之,晏子聞之,不待請而入見,景公汗出惕然,晏
    子曰:“君胡為者也?”景公曰:“我采爵,弱故反之。”晏子逡巡北面
    再拜而賀之:“吾君有圣王之道矣。”景公曰:“寡人入探爵,弱故反之
    ,其當圣王之道者何也?”晏子對曰:“君探爵,弱故反之,是長幼也;
    吾君仁愛,禽獸之加焉,而況于人乎?此圣王之道也。”
    景公睹嬰儿有乞于途者,公曰:“是無歸夫?”晏子對曰:“君存何
    為無歸,使養之,可立而以聞。”
    景公游于壽宮,睹長年負薪而有飢色,公悲之,喟然嘆曰:“令吏養
    之。”晏子曰:“臣聞之,樂賢而哀不肖,守國之本也;今君愛老而恩無
    不逮,治國之本也。”公笑有喜色。晏子曰:“圣王見賢以樂賢,見不肖
    以哀不肖;今請求老弱之不養,鰥寡之不室者,論而供秩焉。”景公曰:
    “諾。”于是老弱有養,鰥寡有室。
    桓公之平陵,見家人有年老而自養者,公問其故,對曰:“吾有子九
    人,家貧無以妻之,吾使佣而未返也。”桓公取外御者五人妻之,管仲入
    見曰:“公之施惠不亦小矣。”公曰:“何也?”對曰:“公待所見而施
    惠焉,則齊國之有妻者少矣。”公曰:“若何?”管仲曰:“令國丈夫三
    十而室,女子十五而嫁。”
    孝宣皇帝初即位,守廷尉吏路溫舒上書,言尚德緩刑,其詞曰:“陛
    下初即至尊,与天合符,宜改前世之失,正始受之統,滌煩文,除民疾,
    存亡繼絕,以應天德,天下幸甚。臣聞往者秦有十失,其一尚存,治獄吏
    是也;昔秦之時,滅文學,好武勇,賤仁義之士,貴治獄之吏,正言謂之
    誹謗,謁過謂之妖言,故盛服先生,不用于世,忠良切言,皆郁于胸,譽
    諛之聲,日滿于耳,虛美熏心,實禍蔽塞,此乃秦之所以亡天下也。方今
    海內賴陛下厚恩,無金革之危,飢寒之患,父子夫婦戮力安家,天下幸甚
    ;然太平之未洽者,獄亂之也。夫獄天下之命,死者不可生,斷者不可屬
    ,書曰:‘与其殺不辜,宁失不經。今治獄吏則不然,上下相驅,以刻為
    明,深者獲公名,平者多后患;故治獄吏皆欲人死,非憎人也,自安之道
    ,在人之死,是以死人之血,流离于市;被刑之徒,比肩而立,大辟之計
    ,歲以万數,此圣人所以傷太平之未洽。凡以是也。人情安則樂生,痛則
    思死,捶楚之下,何求而不得;故囚人不胜痛,則飾誣詞以示之,吏治者
    利其然,則指道以明之,上奏恐卻,則鍛煉而周內之,蓋奏當之成,雖皋
    陶听之,猶以為死有余罪,何則?成煉之者眾而文致之罪明也。是以獄吏
    專為深刻,殘賊而無理,偷為一切,不顧國患,此世之大賊也,故俗語云
    :‘畫地作獄,議不可入;刻本為吏,期不可對。’此皆疾吏之風,悲痛
    之辭也。故天下之患,莫深于獄,敗法亂政,离親塞道,莫甚乎治獄之吏
    ,此臣所謂一尚存也。臣聞鳥之卵不毀,而后鳳凰集;誹謗之罪不誅,而
    后良言進,故傳曰:‘山藪藏矣,川澤納污。’國君含垢,天之道也。臣
    昧死上聞,愿陛下察誹謗,听切言,開天下之口,廣箴諫之路,改亡秦之
    一失,遵文武之嘉德,省法制,寬刑罰,以廢煩獄;則太平之風可与于世
    ,福履和樂,与天地無极,天下幸甚。”書奏,皇帝善之,后卒于臨淮太
    守。
    晉平公春筑台,叔向曰:“不可。古者圣王貴德而務施,緩刑辟而趨
    民時;今春筑台,是奪民時也。夫德不施,則民不歸;刑不緩,則百姓愁
    。使不歸之民,役愁怨之百姓,而又奪其時,是重竭也;夫牧百姓,養育
    之而重竭之,豈所以安命安存,而稱為人君于后世哉!”平公曰:“善!
    ”乃罷台役。
    趙簡子春筑台于邯鄲,天雨而不息,謂左右曰:“可無趨种乎?”尹
    鐸對曰:“公事急,厝种而懸之台;夫雖欲趨种,不能得也。”簡子惕然
    ,乃釋台罷役曰:“我以台為急,不如民之急也,民以不為台,故知吾之
    愛也。”
    中行獻子將伐鄭,范文子曰:“不可。得志于鄭,諸侯讎我,憂必滋
    長。”卻至又曰:“得鄭是兼國也,兼國則王,王者固多憂乎?”文子曰
    :“王者盛其德而遠人歸,故無憂;今我寡德而有王者之功,故多憂。今
    子見無土而欲富者樂乎哉?”
    季康子謂子游曰:“仁者愛人乎?”子游曰:“然。”“人亦愛之乎
    ?”子游曰:“然。”康子曰:“鄭子產死,鄭人丈夫舍勇佩,婦人舍珠
    珥,夫婦巷哭,三月不聞竽琴之聲。仲尼之死,吾不閑魯國之愛夫子奚也
    ?”子游曰:“譬子產之与夫子,其猶浸水之与天雨乎?浸水所及則生,
    不及則死,斯民之生也必以時雨,既以生,莫愛其賜,故曰:譬子產之与
    夫子也,猶浸水之与天雨乎?”
    中行穆子圍鼓,鼓人有以城反者,不許,軍吏曰:“師徒不勤,可得
    城,奚故不受?”曰:“有以吾城反者,吾所甚惡也;人以城來,我獨奚
    好焉?賞所甚惡,有失賞也,若所好何?不賞,是失信也,奚以示民?”
    鼓人又請降,使人視之,其民尚有食也,不听,鼓人告食盡力竭而后取之
    ,克鼓而反,不戮一人。
    孔子之楚,有漁者獻魚甚強,孔子不受,獻魚者曰:“天暑遠市賣之
    不售,思欲棄之,不若獻之君子。”孔子再拜受,使弟子掃除將祭之,弟
    子曰:“夫人將棄之,今吾子將祭之,何也?”孔子曰:“吾聞之,務施
    而不腐余財者,圣人也,今受圣人之賜,可無祭乎?”
    鄭伐宋,宋人將与戰,華元殺羊食士,其御羊斟不与焉,及戰,曰:
    “疇昔之羊羹,子為政;今日之事,我為政。”与華元馳入鄭師,宋人敗
    績。
    楚王問庄辛曰:“君子之行奈何?”庄辛對曰:“居不為垣牆,人莫
    能毀傷;行不從周衛,人莫能暴君。此君子之行也。”楚王复問君子之富
    奈何?對曰:“君子之富,假貸人不德也,不責也;其食飲人不使也,不
    役也;親戚愛之,眾人喜之,不肖者事之;皆欲其壽樂而不傷于患。此君
    子之富也。”楚王曰善。
    丞相西平侯于定國者,東海下邳人也,其父號曰于公,為縣獄吏決曹
    掾;決獄平法,未嘗有所冤,郡中离文法者,于公所決,皆不敢隱情,東
    海郡中為于公生立祠,命曰于公祠。東海有孝婦,無子,少寡,養其姑甚
    謹,其姑欲嫁之,終不肯,其姑告鄰之人曰:“孝婦養我甚謹,我哀其無
    子,守寡日久,我老累丁壯奈何?”其后母自經死,母女告吏曰:“孝婦
    殺我母。”吏捕孝婦,孝婦辭不殺姑,吏欲毒治,孝婦自誣服,具獄以上
    府,于公以為養姑十年之孝聞,此不殺姑也,太守不听,數爭不能得,于
    是于公辭疾去吏,太守竟殺孝婦。郡中枯旱三年,后太守至,卜求其故,
    于公曰:“孝婦不當死,前太守強殺之,咎當在此。”于是殺牛祭孝婦冢
    ,太守以下自至焉,天立大雨,歲丰熟,郡中以此益敬重于公。于公筑治
    廬舍,謂匠人曰:“為我高門,我治獄未嘗有所冤,我后世必有封者,令
    容高蓋駟馬車。”及子封為西平侯。
    孟簡子相梁潰燦凶鋃咂耄補苤儆扯手叢唬骸拔嶙酉嗔瘴樂詞保裁畔率
    拐嘸負人矣?”孟簡子曰:“門下使者有三千余人。”管仲曰:“今与几
    何人來?”對曰:“臣与三人俱。”仲曰:“是何也?”對曰:“其一人
    父死無以葬,我為葬之;一人母死無以葬,亦為葬之;一人兄有獄,我為
    出之。是以得三人來。”管仲上車曰:“嗟茲乎!我窮必矣,吾不能以春
    風風人;吾不能以夏雨雨人,吾窮必矣。”
    凡人之性,莫不欲善其德,然而不能為善德者,利敗之也;故君子羞
    言利名,言利名尚羞之,況居而求利者也。
    周天子使家父毛伯求金于諸侯,春秋譏之;故天子好利則諸侯貪,諸
    侯貪則大夫鄙,大夫鄙則庶人盜,上之變下,猶風之靡草也,故為人君者
    明貴德而賤利以道下,下之為惡,尚不可止;今隱公貪利而身自漁,濟上
    而行八佾,以此化于國人,國人安得不解于義,解于義而縱其欲,則災害
    起而臣下僻矣,故其元年始書螟,言災將起,國家將亂云爾。
    孫卿曰:“夫斗者忘其身者也,忘其親者也,忘其君者也;行須臾之
    怒,而斗終身之禍,然乃為之,是忘其身也;家室离散,親戚被戮,然乃
    為之,是忘其親也;君上之所致惡,刑法上所大禁也,然乃犯之,是忘其
    君也。今禽獸猶知近父母,不忘其親也;人而忘其身,內忘其親,上忘其
    君,是不若禽獸之仁也。凡斗者皆自以為是而以他人為非,己誠是也,人
    誠非也,則是己君子而彼小人也;夫以君子而与小人相賊害,是人之所謂
    以狐亡補犬羊,身涂其炭,豈不過甚矣哉!以為智乎,則愚莫大焉;以為
    利乎,則害莫大焉;以為榮乎,則辱莫大焉;人之有斗何哉?比之狂惑疾
    病乎,則不可面目人也,而好惡多同,人之斗誠愚惑夫道者也。詩云:‘
    式號式呼,俾晝作夜’,言斗行也。”
    子路持劍,孔子問曰:“由,安用此乎?”子路曰:“善,古者固以
    善之;不善,古者固以自衛。”孔子曰:“君子以忠為質,以仁為衛,不
    出環堵之內,而聞千里之外;不善以忠化寇,暴以仁圍,何必持劍乎?”
    子路曰:“由也請攝齊以事先生矣。”
    樂羊為魏將,以攻中山,其子在中山,中山縣其子示樂羊,樂羊不為
    衰志,攻之愈急,中山因烹其子而遺之,樂羊食之盡一杯,中山見其誠也
    ,不忍与之戰,果下之,遂為魏文侯開地,文侯賞其功而疑其心。孟孫獵
    得?,使秦西巴持歸,其母隨而鳴,秦西巴不忍,縱而与之,孟孫怒逐秦
    西巴,居一年召以為太子侍,左右曰:“夫秦巴有罪于君,今以為太子傅
    ,何也?”孟孫曰:“夫以一而不忍,又將能忍吾子乎?故曰:‘巧詐不
    如拙誠’,樂羊以有功而見疑,秦西巴以有罪而益信;由仁与不仁也。”
    智伯還自衛,三卿燕于藍台,智襄子戲韓康子而侮段規,智果聞之諫
    曰:“主弗備難,難必至。”曰:“難將由我,我不為難,誰敢興之。”
    對曰:“异于是,夫氏有車轅之難,趙有孟姬之讒,欒有叔祁之訴,范中
    行有函冶之難,皆主之所知也。夏書有之曰:‘一人三失,怨豈在明,不
    見是圖。’周書有之曰:‘怨不在大,亦不在小。’夫君子能勤小物,故
    無大患;今主一謀而人君、相,又弗備,曰不敢興難,毋乃不可乎?嘻!
    不可不懼,蚋蟻蜂蠆皆能害人,況君相乎?”不听,自是五年而有晉陽之
    難,段規反而殺智伯于師,遂滅智氏。
    智襄子為室美,士茁夕焉,智伯曰:“室美矣夫!”對曰:“美則美
    矣,抑臣亦有懼也。”智伯曰:“何懼?”對曰:“臣以秉筆事君,記有
    之曰:高山浚源,不生草木,松柏之地,其土不肥,今土木胜,人臣懼其
    不安人也。”室成三年而智氏亡。

    卷六 复恩

    孔子曰:“德不孤,必有鄰。”夫施德者貴不德,受恩者尚必報;是
    故臣勞勤以為君而不求其賞,君持施以牧下而無所德,故易曰:“勞而不
    怨,有功而不德,厚之至也。”君臣相与以市道接,君縣祿以待之,臣竭
    力以報之;逮臣有不測之功,則主加之以重賞,如主有超异之恩,則臣必
    死以复之。孔子曰:北方有獸,其名曰洟,前足鼠,后足兔,是獸也,甚
    矣其愛蛩蛩巨虛也,食得甘草,必嚙以遺蛩蛩巨虛,蛩蛩巨虛見人將來,
    必負洟以走,洟非性之愛蛩蛩巨虛也,為其假足之故也,二獸者亦非性之
    愛洟也,為其得甘草而遺之故也。夫禽獸昆虫猶知比假而相有報也,況于
    士君子之欲与名利于天下者乎!夫臣不复君之恩而苟營其私門,禍之源也
    ;君不能報臣之功而憚刑賞者,亦亂之基也。夫禍亂之原基,由不報恩生
    矣。
    趙襄子見圍于晉陽,罷圍,賞有功之臣五人,高赫無功而受上賞,五
    人皆怒,張孟談謂襄子曰:“晉陽之中,赫無大功,今与之上賞,何也?
    ”襄子曰:“吾在拘厄之中,不失臣主之禮唯赫也。子雖有功皆驕,寡人
    与赫上賞,不亦可乎?”仲尼聞之曰:“趙襄子可謂善賞士乎!賞一人而
    天下之人臣,莫敢失君臣之禮矣。”
    晉文公亡時,陶叔狐從,文公反國,行三賞而不及陶叔狐,陶叔狐見
    咎犯曰:“吾從君而亡十有三年,顏色黎黑,手足胼胝,今君反國行三賞
    而不及我也,意者君忘我与!我有大故与!子試為我言之君。”咎犯言之
    文公,文公曰:“嘻,我豈忘是子哉!夫高明至賢,德行全誠,耽我以道
    ,說我以仁,暴浣我行,昭明我名,使我為成人者,吾以為上賞;防我以
    禮,諫我以誼,蕃援我使我不得為非,數引我而請于賢人之門,吾以為次
    賞;夫勇壯強御,難在前則居前,難在后則居后,免我于患難之中者,吾
    又以為之次。且子獨不聞乎?死人者,不如存人之身;亡人者,不如存人
    之國;三行賞之后,而勞苦之士次之,夫勞苦之士,是子固為首矣,豈敢
    忘子哉!”周內史叔輿聞之曰:“文公其霸乎!昔圣王先德而后力,文公
    其當之矣,詩云:‘率履不越’,此之謂也。”晉文公入國,至于河,令
    棄籩豆茵席,顏色黎黑,手足胼胝者在后,咎犯聞之,中夜而哭,文公曰
    :“吾亡也十有九年矣,今將反國,夫子不喜而哭,何也?其不欲吾反國
    乎?”對曰:“籩豆茵席,所以官者也,而棄之;顏色黎黑,手足胼胝,
    所以執勞苦,而皆后之;臣聞國君蔽士,無所取忠臣;大夫蔽游,無所取
    忠友;今至于國,臣在所蔽之中矣,不胜其哀,故哭也。”文公曰:“禍
    福利害不与咎氏同之者,有如白水!”祝之,刀沈璧而盟。介子推曰:“
    獻公之子九人,唯君在耳,天未絕晉,必將有主,主晉祀者非君而何?唯
    二三子者以為己力,不亦誣乎?”文公即位,賞不及推,推母曰:“盍亦
    求之?”推曰:“尤而效之,罪又甚焉。且出怨言,不食其食。”其母曰
    :“亦使知之。”推曰:“言,身之文也;身將隱,安用文?”其母曰:
    “能如是,与若俱隱。”至死不复見推,從者怜之,乃懸書宮門曰:“有
    龍矯矯,頃失其所,五蛇從之,周遍天下,龍飢無食,一蛇割股,龍反其
    淵,安其壤土,四蛇入穴,皆有處所,一蛇無穴,號于中野。”文公出見
    書曰:“嗟此介子推也。吾方憂王室未圖其功。”使人召之則亡,遂求其
    所在,聞其入綿上山中。于是文公表綿上山中而封之,以為介推田,號曰
    介山。
    晉文公出亡,周流天下,舟之僑去虞而從焉,文公反國,擇可爵而爵
    之,擇可祿而祿之,舟之僑獨不与焉,文公酌諸大夫酒,酒酣,文公曰:
    “二三子盍為寡人賦乎?”舟之僑曰:“君子為賦,小人請陳其辭,辭曰
    :有龍矯矯,頃失其所;一蛇從之,周流天下,龍反其淵,安宁其處,一
    蛇耆干,獨不得其所。”文公瞿然曰:“子欲爵耶?請待旦日之期;子欲
    祿邪?請今命廩人。”舟之僑曰:“請而得其賞,廉者不受也;言盡而名
    至,仁者不為也。今天油然作云,沛然下雨,則曲草興起,莫之能御。今
    為一人言施一人,猶為一塊土下雨也,土亦不生之矣。”遂歷階而去。文
    公求之不得,終身誦甫田之詩。
    邴吉有陰德于孝宣皇帝微時,孝宣皇帝即位,眾莫知,吉亦不言,吉
    從大將軍長史轉遷至御史大夫,宣帝聞之,將封之,會吉病甚,將使人加
    紳而封之,及其生也,太子太傅夏侯胜曰:“此未死也,臣聞之,有陰德
    者必饗其樂以及其子孫;今此未獲其樂而病甚,非具死病也。”后病果愈
    ,封為博陽侯,終饗其樂。
    魏文侯攻中山,樂羊將,已得中山,還反報文侯,有喜功之色,文侯
    命主書曰:“群臣賓客所獻書操以進。”主書者舉兩篋以進,令將軍視之
    ,盡難中山之事也,將軍還走北面而再拜曰:“中山之舉也,非臣之力,
    君之功也。”
    平原君既歸趙,楚使春申君將兵救趙,魏信陵君亦矯奪晉鄙軍往救趙
    ,未至,秦急圍邯鄲,邯鄲急且降,平原君患之,邯鄲傳舍吏子李談謂平
    原君曰:“君不憂趙亡乎?”平原君曰:“趙亡即胜虜,何為不憂?”李
    談曰:“邯鄲之民,炊骨易子而食之,可謂至困;而君之后宮數百,婦妾
    荷綺瞠,廚余粱肉;士民兵盡,或剡木為矛戟;而君之器物鐘磬自恣,若
    使秦破趙,君安得有此?使趙而全,君何患無有?君誠能令夫人以下,編
    于士卒間,分工而作之,家所有盡散以饗食士,方其危苦時易為惠耳。”
    于是平原君如其計,而勇敢之士三千人皆出死,因從李談赴秦軍,秦軍為
    卻三十里,亦會楚魏救至,秦軍遂罷。李談死,封其父為孝侯。
    秦繆公嘗出,而亡其駿馬,自往求之,見人已殺其馬,方共食其肉,
    繆公謂曰:“是吾駿馬也。”諸人皆懼而起,繆公曰:“吾聞食駿馬肉,
    不飲酒者殺人。”即以次飲之酒,殺馬者皆慚而去。居三年,晉攻秦繆公
    ,圍之,往時食馬肉者,相謂曰:“可以出死報食馬得酒之恩矣。”遂潰
    圍。繆公卒得以解難,胜晉獲惠公以歸,此德出而福反也。
    楚庄王賜群臣酒,日暮酒酣,燈燭滅,乃有人引美人之衣者,美人援
    絕其冠纓,告王曰:“今者燭滅,有引妾衣者,妾援得其冠纓持之,趣火
    來上,視絕纓者。”王曰:“賜人酒,使醉失禮,奈何欲顯婦人之節而辱
    士乎?”乃命左右曰:“今日与寡人飲,不絕冠纓者不歡。”群臣百有余
    人皆絕去其冠纓而上火,卒盡歡而罷。居三年,晉与楚戰,有一臣常在前
    ,五合五奮,首卻敵,卒得胜之,庄王怪而問曰:“寡人德薄,又未嘗异
    子,子何故出死不疑如是?”對曰:“臣當死,往者醉失禮,王隱忍不加
    誅也;臣終不敢以蔭蔽之德而不顯報王也,常愿肝腦涂地,用頸血湔敵久
    矣,臣乃夜絕纓者。”遂敗晉軍,楚得以強,此有陰德者必有陽報也。
    趙宣孟將上之絳,見翳桑下有臥餓人不能動,宣孟止車為之下,餐自
    含而癜之,餓人再咽而能食,宣孟問:“爾何為飢若此?”對曰:“臣居
    于絳,歸而糧絕,羞行乞而憎自致,以故至若此。”宣孟与之壺餐,脯二
    壞,再拜頓首受之,不敢食,問其故對曰:“向者食之而美,臣有老母,
    將以貢之。”宣孟曰:“子斯食之,吾更与汝。”乃复為之簞食,以脯二
    束与錢百。去之絳,居三年,晉靈公欲殺宣孟,置伏士于房中,召宣孟而
    飲之酒,宣孟知之,中飲而出,靈公命房中士疾追殺之,一人追疾,既及
    宣孟,向宣孟之面曰:“今固是君邪!請為君反,死。”宣孟曰:“子名
    為誰?”及是且對曰:“何以名為?臣是夫桑下之餓人也。”遂斗,而死
    ,宣孟得以活,此所謂德惠也。故惠君子,君子得其福;惠小人,小人盡
    其力;夫德一人活其身,而況置惠于万人乎?故曰德無細,怨無小,豈可
    無樹德而除怨,務利于人哉!利施者福報,怨往者禍來,形于內者應于外
    ,不可不慎也,此書之所謂德無小者也。詩云:“赳赳武夫,公侯干城。
    濟濟多士,文王以宁。”人君胡可不務愛士乎!
    孝景時,吳楚反,袁盎以太常使吳,吳王欲使將不肯,欲殺之,使一
    都尉以五百人圍守盎;盎為吳相時,從史与盎侍儿私通,盎知之不泄,遇
    之如故人,有告從史,從史懼亡歸,盎自追,遂以侍儿賄之,复為從史。
    及盎使吳見圍守,從史适為守盎校司馬,夜引盎起曰:“君可以去矣,吳
    王期旦日斬君。”盎不信,曰:“公何為者也?”司馬曰:“臣故為君從
    史盜侍儿者也。”盎乃敬對曰:“公見親,吾不足以累。”司馬曰:君去
    ,臣亦且亡避,吾親君,何患!”乃以刀決帳,率徒卒道出,令皆去,盎
    遂歸報。
    智伯与趙襄子戰于晉陽下而死,智伯之臣豫讓者怒,以其精气能使襄
    主動心,乃漆身變形,吞炭更聲,襄主將出,豫讓偽為死人,處于梁下,
    駟馬惊不進,襄主動心,使使視梁下得豫讓,襄主重其義不殺也。又盜,
    為抵罪,被刑人赭衣,入繕宮,襄主動心,則曰必豫讓也,襄主執而問之
    曰:“子始事中行君,智伯殺中行君,子不能死,還反事之;今吾殺智伯
    ,乃漆身為癘,吞炭為啞,欲殺寡人,何与先行异也?”豫讓曰:“中行
    君眾人畜臣,臣亦眾人事之;智伯朝士待臣,臣亦朝士為之用。”襄子曰
    :“非義也?子壯士也!”乃自置車庫中,水漿毋入口者三,日以禮豫讓
    ,讓自知,遂自殺也。
    晉逐欒盈之族,命其家臣有敢從者死,其臣曰:“辛俞從之。”吏得
    而將殺之,君曰:“命汝無得從,敢從何也?”辛俞對曰:“臣聞三世仕
    于家者君之,二世者主之;事君以死,事主以勤,為之賜之多也。今臣三
    世于欒氏,受其賜多矣,臣敢畏死而忘三世之恩哉?”晉君釋之。
    留侯張良之大父開地相韓昭侯、宣惠王、襄哀王。父平相厘王、悼惠
    王。悼惠王二十三年平卒,二十歲秦滅韓,良年少未宦事韓。韓破,浪家
    童三百人,弟死不葬,良悉以家財求刺客刺秦王,為韓報仇,以大父、父
    ,五世相韓故,遂學禮淮陽,東見滄海君,得力士為鐵椎,重百二十斤,
    秦皇帝東游,良与客狙擊秦皇帝于博浪沙,誤中副車,秦皇帝大怒,大索
    天下,求購甚急,良更易姓名,深亡匿,后卒隨漢報秦
    鮑叔死,管仲舉上衽而哭之,泣下如雨,從者曰:“非君父子也,此
    亦有說乎?”管仲曰:“非夫子所知也,吾嘗与鮑子負販于南陽,吾三辱
    于市,鮑子不以我為怯,知我之欲有所明也;鮑子嘗与我有所說王者,而
    三不見听,鮑子不以我為不肖,知我之不遇明君也;鮑子嘗与我臨財分貨
    ,吾自取多者三,鮑子不以我為貪,知我之不足于財也。生我者父母,知
    我者鮑子也。士為知己者死,而況為之哀乎!”
    晉趙盾舉韓厥,晉君以為中軍尉;趙盾死,子朔嗣為卿。至景公三年
    ,趙朔為晉將,朔取成公姊為夫人,大夫屠岸賈,欲誅趙氏,初趙盾在夢
    見叔帶持龜要而哭甚悲,已而笑拊手且歌,盾卜之占,垂絕而后好,趙史
    援占曰:此甚惡非君之身,及君之子,然亦君之咎也。至子趙朔,世益衰
    ,屠岸賈者,始有寵于靈公,及至于晉景公,而賈為司寇,將作難,乃治
    靈公之賊以至,趙盾遍告諸將曰:“趙穿s靈公,盾雖不知猶為首賊,臣
    殺君,子孫在朝,何以懲罪,請誅之!”韓厥曰:“靈公遇賊,趙盾在外
    ,吾先君以為無罪,故不誅;今諸君將誅其后,是非先君之意而后妄誅;
    妄誅謂之亂臣,有大事而君不聞,是無君也。”屠岸賈不听,厥告趙朔趨
    亡,趙朔不肯,曰:“子必不絕趙祀,朔死且不恨。”韓厥許諾,稱疾不
    出,賈不請而擅与諸將攻趙氏于下宮,殺趙朔、趙括。趙嬰齊,皆滅其族
    ;朔妻成公姊有遺腹,走公宮匿,后生男乳,朔客程嬰持亡匿山中,居十
    五年,晉景公疾,卜之曰:“大業之后不遂者為祟。”景公疾問韓厥,韓
    厥知趙孤在,乃曰:“大業之后,在晉絕祀者,其趙氏乎!夫自中行衍皆
    嬴姓也,中衍人面鳥喙,降佐殷帝太戊及周天子,皆有明德,下及幽厲無
    道,而叔帶去周适晉,事先君文侯,至于成公,世有立功,未嘗有絕祀;
    今及吾君獨滅之,趙宗國人哀之,故見龜策,唯君圖之。”景公問曰:“
    趙尚有后子孫乎?”韓厥具以實對,于是景公乃与韓厥謀立趙孤儿,召而
    匿之宮中,諸將入問疾,景公因韓厥之眾,以脅諸將而見趙孤,孤名曰武
    ,諸將不得已乃曰:“昔下官之難屠岸賈為之,矯以君令,防椓韙然孰敢
    作難,微君之疾,群臣固且請立趙后,今君有令,群臣之愿也。”是召趙
    武、程嬰遍拜諸將軍,將軍遂返与程嬰趙武攻屠岸賈,滅其族,复与趙武
    田邑如故。故人安可以無恩,夫有恩于此故复于彼;非程嬰則趙孤不全,
    非韓厥則趙后不复。韓厥可謂不忘恩矣。
    北郭騷踵見晏子曰:“竊悅先生之義,愿乞所以養母者。”晏子使人
    分倉粟府金而遺之,辭金而受粟。有間,晏子見疑于景公,出奔,北郭子
    召其友而告之曰:“吾悅晏子之義而嘗乞所以養母者。吾聞之曰:養其親
    者,身更其難;今晏子見疑,吾將以身白之。”遂造公庭求复者曰:“晏
    子天下之賢者也,今去齊國,齊國必侵矣,方必見國之侵也,不若先死請
    絕頸以白晏子。”逡巡而退,因自殺也。公聞之大駭,乘馳而自追晏子,
    及之國郊,請而反之,晏子不得已而反之,聞北郭子之以死白己也,太息
    而嘆曰:“嬰不肖,罪過固其所也,而士以身明之,哀哉!”
    吳赤市使于智氏,假道于衛,宁文子具三百制,將以送之,大夫豹曰
    :“吳雖大國也,不坏交假之道,則亦敬矣,又何禮焉!”宁文子不听,
    遂致之吳赤市。至于智氏,既得事,將歸吳,智伯命造舟為梁,吳赤市曰
    :“吾聞之,天子濟于水,造舟為梁,諸侯維舟為梁,大夫方舟。方舟,
    臣之職也,且敬太甚必有故。”使人視之,視則用兵在后矣,將亦襲衛。
    吳赤市曰:“衛假吾道而厚贈我,我見難而不告,是与為謀也。”稱疾而
    留,使人告衛,衛人警戒,智伯聞之,乃止。
    楚魏會于晉陽,將以伐齊,齊王患之,使人召淳于髡曰:“楚魏謀欲
    齊。愿先生与寡人共憂之。”淳于髡大笑而不應,王后問之,又复大笑而
    不應,三問而不應,王怫然作色曰:“先生以寡人國為戲乎?”淳于髡對
    曰:“臣不敢以王國為戲也,臣笑臣鄰之祠田也,以奩飯与一鮒魚。其祝
    曰:下田蔥捉樴`勸儷擔殘顏咭撕獺夾淥造粽呱俁笳多。”王曰善,賜之
    千金,革車百乘,立為上卿。
    陽虎得罪于衛,北見簡子曰:“自今以來,不复樹人矣。”簡子曰:
    “何哉?”陽虎對曰:“夫堂上之人,臣所樹者過半矣;朝廷之吏,臣所
    立者亦過半矣;邊境之士,臣所立者亦過半矣。今夫堂上之人,親 臣于
    君;朝廷之吏,親危臣于眾;邊境之士,親劫臣于兵。”簡子曰:“唯賢
    者為能報恩,不肖者不能。夫樹桃李者,夏得休息,秋得食焉。樹蒺藜者
    ,夏不得休息,秋得其刺焉。今子之所樹者,蒺藜也,自今以來,擇人而
    樹,毋已樹而擇之。”
    魏文侯与田子方語,有兩僮子衣青白衣,而侍于君前,子方曰:“此
    君之寵子乎!”文侯曰:“非也,其父死于戰,此其幼孤也,寡人收之。
    ”子方曰:“臣以君之賊心為足矣,今滋甚,君之寵此子也,又且以誰之
    父殺之乎?”文侯愍然曰:“寡人受令矣。”自是以后,兵革不用。
    吳起為魏將,攻中山,軍人有病疽者,吳子自吮其膿,其母泣之,旁
    人曰:“將軍于而子如是,尚何為泣?”對曰:“吳子吮此子父之創而殺
    之于注水之戰,戰不旋。

    卷七 政理

    政有三品:王者之政化之,霸者之政威之,強者之政脅之,夫此三者
    各有所施,而化之為貴矣。夫化之不變而后威之,威之不變而后脅之,脅
    之不變而后刑之;夫至于刑者,則非王者之所得已也。是以圣王先德教而
    后刑罰,立榮恥而明防禁;崇禮義之節以示之,賤貨利之弊以變之;修近
    理內政橛机之禮,壹妃匹之際;則莫不慕義禮之榮,而惡貪亂之恥。其所
    由致之者,化使然也。
    季孫問于孔子曰:“如殺無道,以就有道,何如?”孔子曰:“子為
    政,焉用殺,子欲善而民善矣。君子之德,風也;小人之德,草也;草上
    之風必偃。”言明其化而已矣,治國有二机,刑德是也;王者尚其德而布
    其刑,霸者刑德并湊,強國先其刑而后德。夫刑德者,化之所由興也。德
    者,養善而進闕者也;刑者,懲惡而禁后者也;故德化之崇者至于賞,刑
    罰之甚者至于誅;夫誅賞者,所以別賢不肖,而列有功与無功也。故誅賞
    不可以繆,誅賞繆則善惡亂矣。夫有功而不賞,則善不勸,有過而不誅,
    則惡不懼,善不勸而能以行化乎天下者,未嘗聞也。書曰:‘畢協賞罰’
    ,此之謂也。
    水濁則魚困,令苛則民亂,城峭則必崩,岸竦則必禲C故夫治國,譬
    若張琴,大弦急則小弦絕矣,故曰急轡御者非千里御也。有聲之聲,不過
    百里,無聲之聲,延及四海;故祿過其功者損,名過其實者削,情行合而
    民副之,禍福不虛至矣。詩云:“何其處也,必有与也;何其久也,必有
    以也。”此之謂也。
    公叔文子為楚令尹三年,民無敢入朝,公叔子見曰:“嚴矣。”文子
    曰:“朝廷之嚴也,宁云妨國家之治哉?”公叔子曰:“嚴則下喑,下喑
    則上聾,聾喑不能相通,何國之治也?順針縷者成帷幕,合升斗者實倉廩
    ,菕桍山澈幻髦髡哂興恍校參闖所不受也。”
    衛靈公謂孔子曰:“有語寡人為國家者,謹之于廟堂之上而國家治矣
    ,其可乎?”孔子曰:“可。愛人者,則人愛之;惡人者,則人惡之;知
    得之己者,亦知得之人;所謂不出于環堵之室而知天下者,知反之己者也
    。”
    子貢問治民于孔子,孔子曰:“懍懍焉如以腐索御奔馬。”子貢曰:
    “何其畏也!”孔子曰:“夫通達之國皆人也,以道導之,則吾畜也;不
    以道導之,則吾讎也,若何而毋畏?”
    齊桓公謂管仲曰:“吾欲舉事于國,昭然如日月,無愚夫愚婦皆曰善
    ,可乎?”仲曰:“可。然非圣人之道。”桓公曰:“何也?”對曰:“
    夫短綆不可以汲深井,知鮮不可以与圣人言,慧士可与辨物,智士可与辨
    無方,圣人可与辨神明;夫圣人之所為,非眾人之所及也。民知十己,則
    尚与之爭,曰不如吾也,百己則疵其過,千己則誰而不信。是故民不可稍
    而掌也,可晼烈玻徊豢殺幣玻部慎舛亂玻恢誆豢苫狄玻部刪俁疽病衛靈公
    問于史曰:“政孰為務?”對曰:“大理為務,听獄不中,死者不可生也
    ,斷者不可屬也,故曰:大理為務。”少焉,子路見公,公以史言告之,
    子路曰:“司馬為務,兩國有難,兩軍相當,司馬執孕兄矗慘歡凡坏保菜
    勒呤慘隕比宋胺且玻泊似湮殺人亦眾矣,故曰:司馬為務。”少焉,子貢
    入見,公以二子言告之,子貢曰:“不識哉!昔禹与有扈氏戰,三陳而不
    服,禹于是修教一年而有扈氏請服,故曰:去民之所事,奚獄之所听?兵
    革之不陳,奚鼓之所鳴?故曰:教為務也。”
    齊桓公出獵,逐鹿而走入山谷之中,見一老公而問之曰:“是為何谷
    ?”對曰:“為愚公之谷。”桓公曰:“何故?”對曰:“以臣名之。”
    桓公曰:“今視公之儀狀,非愚人也,何為以公名?”對曰:“臣請陳之
    ,臣故畜牛生子而大,賣之而買駒,少年曰:‘牛不能生馬。’遂持駒去
    。傍鄰聞之,以臣為愚,故名此谷為愚公之谷。”桓公曰:“公誠愚矣,
    夫何為而与之?”桓公遂歸。明日朝,以告管仲,管仲正衿再拜曰:“此
    夷吾之愚也,使堯在上,咎繇為理,安有取人之駒者乎?若有見暴如是叟
    者,又必不与也,公知獄訟之不正,故与之耳,請退而修政。”孔子曰:
    “弟子記之,桓公,霸君也;管仲,賢佐也;猶有以智為愚者也,況不及
    桓公管仲者也。”
    魯有父子訟者,康子曰:“殺之!”孔子曰:“未可殺也。夫民不知
    子父訟之不善者久矣,是則上過也;上有道,是人亡矣。”康子曰:“夫
    治民以孝為本,今殺一人以戮不孝,不亦可乎?”孔子曰:“不孝而誅之
    ,是虐殺不辜也。三軍大敗,不可誅也;獄訟不治,不可刑也;上陳之教
    而先服之,則百姓從風矣,躬行不從而后俟之以刑,則民知罪矣;夫一仞
    之牆,民不能菖,百仞之山,童子升而游焉,陵遲故也!今是仁義之陵遲
    久矣,能謂民弗菖乎?詩曰:‘俾民不迷!’昔者君子導其百姓不使迷,
    是以威厲而不至,刑錯而用。”于是訟者聞之,乃請無訟。
    魯哀公問政于孔子,對曰:“政有使民富且壽。”哀公曰:“何謂也
    ?”孔子曰:“薄賦斂則民富,無事則遠罪,遠罪則民壽。”公曰:“若
    是則寡人貧矣。”孔子曰:“詩云:‘凱悌君子,民之父母’,未見其子
    富而父母貧者也。”
    文王問于呂望曰:“為天下若何?”對曰:“王國富民,霸國富士;
    僅存之國,富大夫;亡道之國,富倉府;是謂上溢而下漏。”文王曰:“
    善!”對曰:“宿善不祥。是日也,發其倉府,以賑鰥、寡、孤、獨。”
    武王問于太公曰:“治國之道若何?”太公對曰:“治國之道,愛民
    而已。”曰:“愛民若何?”曰:“利之而勿害,成之勿敗,生之勿殺,
    与之勿奪,樂之勿苦,喜之勿怒,此治國之道,使民之誼也,愛之而已矣
    。民失其所務,則害之也;農失其時,則敗之也;有罪者重其罰,則殺之
    也;重賦斂者,則奪之也;多徭役以罷民力,則苦之也;勞而扰之,則怒
    之也。故善為國者遇民,如父母之愛子,兄之愛弟,聞其飢寒為之哀,見
    其勞苦為之悲。”
    武王問于太公曰:“賢君治國何如?”對曰:“賢君之治國,其政平
    ,其吏不苛,其賦斂節,其自奉薄,不以私善害公法,賞賜不加于無功,
    刑罰不施于無罪,不因喜以賞,不因怒以誅,害民者有罪,進賢舉過者有
    賞,后宮不荒,女謁不听,上無淫慝,下不陰害,不幸宮室以費財,不多
    觀游台池以罷民,不雕文刻鏤以逞耳目,宮無腐蠹之藏,國無流餓之民,
    此賢君之治國也。”武王曰:“善哉!”
    武王問于太公曰:“為國而數更法令者何也?”太公曰:“為國而數
    更法令者,不法法,以其所善為法者也;故令出而亂,亂則更為法,是以
    其法令數更也。”
    成王問政于尹逸曰:“吾何德之行而民親其上?”對曰:“使之以時
    而敬順之,忠而愛之,布令信而不食言。”王曰:“其度安至?”對曰:
    “如臨深淵,如履薄冰。”王曰:“懼哉!”對曰:“天地之間,四海之
    內,善之則畜之,不善則讎也;夏、殷之臣,反讎桀、紂而臣湯、武,夙
    沙之民,自攻其主而歸神農氏。此君之所明知也,若何其無懼也?”
    仲尼見梁君,梁君問仲尼曰:“吾欲長有國,吾欲列都之得,吾欲使
    民安不惑,吾欲使士竭其力,吾欲使日月當時,吾欲使圣人自來,吾欲使
    官府治,為之奈何?”仲尼對曰:“千乘之君,万乘之主,問于丘者多矣
    ,未嘗有如主君問丘之術也,然而盡可得也。丘聞之,兩君相親,則長有
    國;君惠臣忠,則列都之得;毋殺不辜,毋釋罪人,則民不惑;益士祿賞
    ,則竭其力;尊天敬鬼,則日月當時;善為刑罰,則圣人自來;尚賢使能
    ,則官治。”梁君曰:“豈有不然哉!”
    子貢曰:“葉公問政于夫子,夫子曰:‘政在附近來遠’,魯哀公問
    政于夫子,夫子曰:‘政在于諭臣’。齊景公問政于夫子,夫子曰:‘政
    在于節用’。三君問政于夫子,夫子應之不同,然則政有异乎?”孔子曰
    :“夫荊之地廣而都狹,民有离志焉,故曰在于附近而來遠。哀公有臣三
    人,內比周公以惑其君,外障諸侯賓客以蔽其明,故曰政在諭臣。齊景公
    奢于台榭,淫于苑囿,五官之樂不解,一旦而賜人百乘之家者三,故曰政
    在于節用,此三者政也,詩不云乎:‘亂离斯瘼,爰其适歸’,此傷离散
    以為亂者也,匪其止共,惟王之邛,此傷奸臣蔽主以為亂者也,‘相亂蔑
    資,魯莫惠我師’,此傷奢侈不節以為亂者也,察此三者之所欲,政其同
    乎哉!”
    公儀休相魯,魯君死,左右請閉門,公儀休曰:“止!池淵吾不稅,
    蒙山吾不賦,苛令吾不布,吾已閉心矣!何閉于門哉?”
    子產相鄭,簡公謂子產曰:“內政毋出,外政毋入。夫衣裘之不美,
    車馬之不飾,子女之不洁,寡人之丑也;國家之不治,封疆之不正,夫子
    之丑也。”子產相鄭,終簡公之身,內無國中之亂,外無諸侯之患也;子
    產之從政也,擇能而使之:馮簡子善斷事,子太叔善決而文,公孫揮知四
    國之為而辨于其大夫之族姓,變而立至,又善為辭令,裨諶善謀,于野則
    獲,于邑則否,有事乃載裨諶与之适野,使謀可否,而告馮簡子斷之,使
    公孫揮為之辭令,成乃受子太叔行之,以應對賓客,是以鮮有敗事也。
    董安于治晉陽,問政于蹇老,蹇老曰:“曰忠、曰信、曰敢。”董安
    于曰:“安忠乎?”曰:“忠于主。”曰:“安信乎?”曰:“信于令。
    ”曰:“安敢乎?”曰:“敢于不善人。”董安于曰:“此三者足矣。”
    魏文侯使西門豹往治于鄴,告之曰:“必全功成名布義。”豹曰:“
    敢問全功成名布義為之奈何?”文侯曰:“子往矣!是無邑不有賢豪辨博
    者也,無邑不有好揚人之惡,蔽人之善者也。往必問豪賢者,因而親之;
    其辨博者,因而師之;問其好揚人之惡,蔽人之善者,因而察之,不可以
    特聞從事。夫耳聞之不如目見之,目見之不如足踐之,踐之不如手辨之;
    人始入官,如入晦室,久而愈明,明乃治,治乃行。”
    宓子賤治單父,彈鳴琴,身不下堂而單父治。巫馬期亦治單父,以星
    出,以星入,日夜不出,以身親之,而單父亦治。巫馬期問其故于宓子賤
    ,宓子賤曰:“我之謂任人,子之謂任力;任力者固勞,任人者固佚。”
    人曰宓子賤,則君子矣,佚四肢,全耳目,平心气而百官治,任其數而已
    矣。巫馬期則不然,弊性事情,勞煩教詔,雖治猶未至也。
    孔子謂宓子賤曰:“子治單父而眾說,語丘所以為之者。”曰:“不
    齊父其父,子其子,恤諸孤而哀喪紀。”孔子曰:“善小節也小民附矣,
    猶未足也。”曰:“不齊也,所父事者三人,所兄事者五人,所友者十一
    人,”孔子曰:“父事三人,可以教孝矣;兄事五人,可以教弟矣;友十
    一人,可以教學矣。中節也,中民附矣,猶未足也。”曰:“此地民有賢
    于不齊者五人,不齊事之,皆教不齊所以治之術。”孔子曰:“欲其大者
    ,乃于此在。昔者堯、舜清微其身,以听觀天下,務來賢人,夫舉賢者,
    百福之宗也,而神明之主也,不齊之所治者小也,不齊所治者大,其与堯
    、舜繼矣。”
    宓子賤為單父宰,辭于夫子,夫子曰:“毋迎而距也,毋望而許也;
    許之則失守,距之則閉塞。譬如高山深淵,仰之不可极,度之不可測也。
    ”子賤曰:“善,敢不承命乎!”宓子賤為單父宰,過于陽晝曰:“子亦
    有以送仆乎?”陽晝曰:“吾少也賤,不知治民之術,有釣道二焉,請以
    送子。”子賤曰:“釣道奈何?”陽晝曰:“夫綸錯餌,迎而吸之者也,
    陽橋也,其為魚薄而不美;若存若亡,若食若不食者,魴也,其為魚也博
    而厚味。”宓子賤曰:“善。”于是未至單父,冠蓋迎之者交接于道,子
    賤曰:“車驅之,車驅之。”夫陽晝之所謂陽橋者至矣,于是至單父請其
    耆老尊賢者而与之共治單父。
    孔子弟子有孔蔑者,与宓子賤皆仕,孔子往過孔蔑,問之曰:“自子
    之仕者,何得、何亡?”孔蔑曰:“自吾仕者未有所得,而有所亡者三,
    曰:王事若襲,學焉得習,以是學不得明也,所亡者一也。奉祿少鬻,鬻
    不足及親戚,親戚益疏矣,所亡者二也。公事多急,不得吊死視病,是以
    朋友益疏矣,所亡者三也。”孔子不說,而复往見子賤曰:“自子之仕,
    何得、何亡也?”子賤曰:“自吾之仕,未有所亡而所得者三:始誦之文
    ,今履而行之,是學日益明也,所得者一也。奉祿雖少鬻,鬻得及親戚,
    是以親戚益親也,所得者二也。公事雖急,夜勤,吊死視病,是以朋友益
    親也,所得者三也。”孔子謂子賤曰:“君子哉若人!君子哉若人!魯無
    君子也,斯焉取斯?”
    晏子治東阿三年,景公召而數之曰:“吾以子為可,而使子治東阿,
    今子治而亂,子退而自察也,寡人將加大誅于子。”晏子對曰:“臣請改
    道易行而治東阿,三年不治,臣請死之。”景公許之。于是明年上計,景
    公迎而賀之曰:“甚善矣!子之治東阿也。”晏子對曰:“前臣之治東阿
    也,屬托行,貨賂至,并會賦斂,倉庫少內,便事左右,陂池之魚,入于
    權家。當此之時,飢者過半矣,君乃反迎而賀臣,愚不能复治東阿,愿乞
    骸骨,避賢者之路,再拜便辟。”景公乃下席而謝之曰:“子強复治東阿
    ;東阿者,子之東阿也,寡人無复与焉。”
    子路治蒲,見于孔子曰:“由愿受教。”孔子曰:“蒲多壯士,又難
    治也。然吾語汝,以敬,可以攝勇;寬以正,可以容眾;恭以洁,可以親
    上。”
    子貢為信陽令,辭孔子而行,孔子曰:“力之順之,因子之時,無奪
    無伐,無暴無盜。”子貢曰:“賜少日事君子,君子固有盜者邪!”孔子
    曰:“夫以不肖伐賢,是謂奪也;以賢伐不肖,是謂伐也;緩其令,急其
    誅,是謂暴也;取人善以自為己,是謂盜也。君子之盜,豈必當財幣乎?
    吾聞之曰:知為吏者奉法利民,不知為吏者,枉法以侵民,此皆怨之所由
    生也。臨官莫如平,臨財莫如廉,廉平之守,不可攻也。匿人之善者,是
    謂蔽賢也;揚人之惡者,是謂小人也;不內相教而外相謗者,是謂不足親
    也。言人之善者,有所得而無所傷也;言人之惡者,無所得而有所傷也。
    故君子慎言語矣,毋先己而后人,擇言出之,令口如耳。”
    楊朱見梁王,言治天下如運諸掌然,梁王曰:“先生有一妻一妾不能
    治,三畝之園不能芸,言治天下如運諸手掌何以?”楊朱曰:“臣有之,
    君不見夫羊乎,百羊而群,使五尺童子荷杖而隨之,欲東而東,欲西而西
    ;君且使堯牽一羊,舜荷杖而隨之,則亂之始也。臣聞之,夫吞舟之魚不
    游淵,鴻鵠高飛不就污池,何則?其志极遠也。黃鐘大呂,不可從繁奏之
    舞,何則?其音疏也。將治大者不治小,成大功者不小苛,此之謂也。”
    景差相鄭,鄭人有冬涉水者,出而脛寒,后景差過之,下陪乘而載之
    ,覆以上衽,晉叔向聞之曰:“景子為人國相,豈不固哉!吾聞良吏居之
    三月而溝渠修,十月而津梁成,六畜且不濡足,而況人乎?”
    魏文侯問李克曰:“為國如何?”對曰:“臣聞為國之道,食有勞而
    祿有功,使有能而賞必行,罰必當。”文侯曰:“吾嘗罰皆當而民不与,
    何也?”對曰:“國其有淫民乎?臣聞之曰:奪淫民之祿以來四方之士;
    其父有功而祿,其子無功而食之,出則乘車馬衣美裘以為榮華,入則修竽
    琴、鐘石之聲而安其子女之樂,以亂鄉曲之教,如此者奪其祿以來四方之
    士,此之謂奪淫民也。”
    齊桓公問管仲曰:“國何患?”管仲對曰:“患失社鼠。”桓公曰:
    “何謂也?”管仲對曰:“夫社束木而涂之,鼠因往托焉,熏之則恐燒其
    木,灌之則恐敗其涂,此鼠所以不可得殺者,以社故也。夫國亦有社鼠,
    人主左右是也;內則蔽善惡于君上,外則賣權重于百姓,不誅之則為亂,
    誅之則為人主所察,据腹而有之,此亦國之社鼠也。人有酤酒者,為器
    甚洁清,置表甚長而酒酸不售,問之里人其故,里人云:‘公之狗猛,人
    挈器而入,且酤公酒,狗迎而噬之,此酒所以酸不售之故也。’夫國亦有
    猛狗,用事者也;有道術之士,欲明万乘之主,而用事者迎而?之,此亦
    國之猛狗也。左右為社鼠,用事者為猛狗,則道術之士不得用矣,此治國
    之所患也。”
    齊侯問于晏子曰:“為政何患?”對曰:“患善惡之不分。”公曰:
    “何以察之?”對曰:“審擇左右,左右善,則百僚各得其所宜而善惡分
    。”孔子聞之曰:“此言也信矣,善言進,則不善無由入矣;不進善言,
    則善無由入矣。”
    复槁之君朝齊,桓公問治民焉,复槁之君不對,而循口操衿抑心,桓
    公曰:“与民共甘苦飢寒乎?”“夫以我為圣人也,故不用言而諭。”因
    禮之千金。晉文公時,翟人有封狐、文豹之皮者,文公喟然嘆曰:“封狐
    文豹何罪哉?以其皮為罪也。”大夫欒枝曰:“地廣而不平,財聚而不散
    ,獨非狐豹之罪乎?”文公曰:“善哉!說之。”欒枝曰:“地廣而不平
    ,人將平之;財聚而不散,人將爭之。”于是列地以分民,散財以賑貧。
    晉文侯問政于舅犯,舅犯對曰:“分熟不如分腥,分腥不如分地;割
    以分民而益其爵祿,是以上得地而民知富,上失地而民知貧,古之所謂致
    師而戰者,其此之謂也。”
    晉侯問于士文伯曰:“三月朔,日有蝕之,寡人學桑彩彼劍骸幢巳斬
    矗燦諍尾臧者,何也?”對曰:“不善政之謂也;國無政不用善,則自取
    謫于日月之災,故不可不慎也。政有三而已:一曰因民,二曰擇人,三曰
    從時。”
    延陵季子游于晉,入其境曰:“嘻,暴哉國乎!”入其都曰:“嘻,
    力屈哉,國乎!”立其朝曰:“嘻,亂哉國乎!”從者曰:“夫子之入境
    未久也,何其名之不疑也?”延陵季子曰:“然,吾入其境田畝荒穢而不
    休,雜增崇高,吾是以知其國之暴也。吾入其都,新室惡而故室美,新牆
    卑而故牆高,吾是以知其民力之屈也。吾立其朝,君能視而不下問,其臣
    善伐而不上諫,吾是以知其國之亂也。齊之所以不如魯者,太公之賢不如
    伯禽,伯禽与太公俱受封,而各之國三年,太公來朝,周公問曰:“何治
    之疾也?”對曰:“尊賢,先疏后親,先義后仁也。”此霸者之跡也。周
    公曰:“太公之澤及五世。”五年伯禽來朝,周公問曰:“何治之難?”
    對曰:“親親者,先內后外,先仁后義也。”此王者之跡也。周公曰:“
    魯之澤及十世。”故魯有王跡者,仁厚也;齊有霸跡者,武政也;齊之所
    以不如魯也,太公之賢不如伯禽也。
    景公好婦人而丈夫飾者,國人盡服之,公使吏禁之曰:“女子而男子
    飾者,裂其衣,斷其帶。”裂衣斷帶相望而不止,晏子見,公曰:“寡人
    使吏禁女子而男子飾者,裂其衣,斷其帶,相望而不止者,何也?”對曰
    :“君使服之于內而禁之于外,猶懸牛首于門而求買馬肉也;公胡不使內
    勿服,則外莫敢為也。”公曰:“善!”使內勿服,不旋月而國莫之服也
    。
    齊人甚好轂擊相犯以為樂,禁之不止,晏子患之,乃為新車良馬出与
    人相犯也,曰:“轂擊者不祥,臣其察祀不順,居處不敬乎?”下車棄而
    去之,然后國人乃不為。故曰:“禁之以制,而身不先行也,民不肯止,
    故化其心莫若教也。”
    魯國之法,魯人有贖臣妾于諸侯者,取金于府;子貢贖人于諸侯而還
    其金,孔子聞之:“賜失之矣,圣人之舉事也,可以移風易俗,而教導可
    施于百姓,非獨适其身之行也。今魯國富者寡而貧者眾,贖而受金則為不
    廉;不受則后莫复贖,自今以來,魯人不复贖矣。”孔子可謂通于化矣。
    故老子曰:“見小曰明。”
    孔子見季康子,康子未說,孔子又見之,宰予曰:“吾聞之夫子曰:
    ‘王公不聘不動。’今吾子之見司寇也少數矣。”孔子曰:“魯國以眾相
    陵,以兵相暴之日久矣,而有司不治,聘我者孰大乎?”于是魯人聞之曰
    :“圣人將治,何以不先自為刑罰乎?”自是之后,國無爭者。孔子謂弟
    子曰:“違山十里,蟪蛄之聲猶尚存耳,政事無如膺之矣。”古之魯俗,
    涂里之間,羅門之羅,收門之魚,獨得于禮,是以孔子善之夫涂里之間,
    富家為貧者出;羅門之羅,有親者取多,無親者取少;收門之漁,有親者
    取巨,無親者取小。
    春秋曰:四民均則王道興而百姓宁;所謂四民者,士、農、工、商也
    。婚姻之道廢,則男女之道悖,而淫之路興矣。

    卷八 尊賢

    人君之欲平治天下而垂榮名者,必尊賢而下士。易曰:“自上下下,
    其道大光。”又曰:“以貴下賤,大得民也。”夫明王之施德而下下也,
    將怀遠而致近也。夫朝無賢人,猶鴻鵠之無羽翼也,雖有千里之望,猶不
    能致其意之所欲至矣;是故游江海者托于船,致遠道者托于乘,欲霸王者
    托于賢;伊尹、呂尚、管夷吾、百里奚,此霸王之船乘也。釋父兄与子孫
    ,非疏之也;任庖人釣屠与仇讎仆虜,非阿之也;持社稷立功名之道,不
    得不然也。猶大匠之為宮室也,量小大而知材木矣,比功效而知人數矣。
    是故呂尚聘而天下知商將亡,而周之王也;管夷吾,百里奚任,而天下知
    齊秦之必霸也,豈特船乘哉!夫成王霸固有人,亡國破家亦固有人;桀用
    于莘,紂用惡來,宋用唐鞅,齊用蘇秦,秦用趙高,而天下知其亡也;非
    其人而欲有功,譬其若夏至之日而欲夜之長也,射魚指天而欲發之當也;
    雖舜禹猶亦困,而又況乎俗主哉!
    春秋之時,天子微弱,諸侯力政,皆叛不朝;眾暴寡,強劫弱,南夷
    与北狄交侵,中國之不絕若線。桓公于是用管仲、鮑叔、隰朋、賓胥無、
    宁戚,三存亡國,一繼絕世,救中國,攘戎狄,卒脅荊蠻,以尊周室,霸
    諸侯。晉文公用咎犯、先軫、陽處父,強中國,敗強楚,合諸侯,朝天子
    ,以顯周室。楚庄王用孫叔敖、司馬子反、將軍子重,征陳從鄭,敗強晉
    ,無敵于天下。秦穆公用百里子、蹇叔子、王子廖及由余,据有雍州,攘
    敗西戎。吳用延州萊季子,鬿僽偕詡浮夜備揮星酥垂補笪爸詈睿倉我凰橙
    誦模捕于臣者,不先得賢也。至簡公用子產、裨諶、世叔、行人子羽,賊
    臣除,正臣進,去強楚,合中國,國家安宁,二十余年,無強楚之患。故
    虞有宮之奇,晉獻公為之終夜不寐;楚有子玉得臣,文公為之側席而坐,
    遠乎賢者之厭難折衝也。夫宋襄公不用公子目夷之言,大辱于楚;曹不用
    僖負羈之諫,敗死于戎。故共惟五始之要,治亂之端,在乎審己而任賢也
    。國家之任賢而吉,任不肖而凶,案往世而視己事,其必然也,如合符,
    此為人君者,不可以不慎也。國家迭汲技猜徹舐遙布居閻聰圖操夜奔次歡
     渭咀櫻猜徹材餐餑諼憂,行政二十一年,季子之卒后,邾擊其南,齊伐
    其北,魯不胜其患,將乞師于楚以取全耳(或作身),故傳曰:患之起必
    自此始也。公子買不可使戍衛,公子遂不听君命而擅之晉,內侵于臣下,
    外困于兵亂,弱之患也。僖公之性,非前二十一年常賢,而后乃漸變為不
    肖也,此季子存之所益,亡之所損也。夫得賢失賢,其損益之驗如此,而
    人主忽于所用,甚可疾痛也。夫智不足以見賢,無可奈何矣,若智能見之
    ,而強不能決,猶豫不用,而大者死亡,小者亂傾,此甚可悲哀也。以宋
    殤公不知孔父之賢乎,安知孔父死,己必死,趨而救之,趨而救之者,是
    知其賢也。以魯庄公不知季子之賢乎,安知疾將死,召季子而授之國政,
    授之國政者,是知其賢也。此二君知能見賢而皆不能用,故宋殤公以殺死
    ,魯庄公以賊嗣,使宋殤蚤任孔父,魯庄素用季子,乃將靖鄰國,而況自
    存乎!
    鄒子說梁王曰:“伊尹故有莘氏之媵臣也,湯立以為三公,天下之治
    太平。管仲故成陰之狗盜也,天下之庸夫也,齊桓公得之以為仲父。百里
    奚道之于路,傳賣五羊之皮,秦穆公委之以政。宁戚故將車人也,叩轅行
    歌于康之衢,桓公任以國。司馬喜髕腳于宋,而卒相中山。范睢折脅拉齒
    于魏而后為應侯。太公望故老婦之出夫也,朝歌之屠佐也,棘津迎客之舍
    人也,年七十而相周,九十而封齊。故詩曰:‘綿綿之葛,在于曠野,良
    工得之,以為,良工不得,枯死于野。’此七士者,不遇明君圣主,几行
    乞丐,枯死于中野,譬猶綿綿之葛矣。”
    眉睫之征,接而形于色;聲音之風,感而動乎心。宁戚擊牛角而商歌
    ,桓公聞而舉之;鮑龍跪石而登偃游爸聰魯擔灰聰嗉參耐蹙傯憊輩灰勻站
    謾氏褪唇也,不待久而親;能者之相見也,不待試而知矣。故士之接也,
    非必与之臨財分貨,乃知其廉也;非必与之犯難涉危,乃知其勇也。舉事
    決斷,是以知其勇也;取与有讓,是以知其廉也。故見虎之尾,而知其大
    于狸也;見象之牙,而知其大于牛也。一節見則百節知矣。由此觀之,以
    所見可以占未發,睹小節固足以知大体矣。
    禹以夏王,桀以夏亡;湯以殷王,紂以殷亡。闔廬以吳戰胜無敵于天
    下,而夫差以見禽于越,文公以晉國霸,而厲公以見s于匠麗之宮,威王
    以齊強于天下,而愍王以s死于廟梁,穆公以秦顯名尊號,而二世以劫于
    望夷,其所以君王者同,而功跡不等者,所任异也!是故成王處襁褓而朝
    諸侯,周公用事也。趙武靈王五十年而餓死于沙丘,任李充故也。桓公得
    管仲,九合諸侯,一匡天下,失管仲,任豎刁易牙,身死不葬,為天下笑
    ,一人之身,榮辱俱施焉,在所任也。故魏有公子無忌,削地复得;趙任
    藺相如,秦兵不敢出鄢陵;任唐睢,國獨特立。楚有申包胥,而昭王反位
    ;齊有田單,襄王得國。由此觀之,國無賢佐俊士,而能以成功立名,安
    危繼絕者,未嘗有也。故國不務大而務得民心;佐不務多,而務得賢俊。
    得民心者民往之,有賢佐者士歸之,文王請除炮烙之刑而殷民從,湯去張
    网者之三面而夏民從,越王不隳舊冢而吳人服,以其所為之順于民心也。
    故聲同則處而相應,德合則未見而相親,賢者立于本朝,則天下之豪,相
    率而趨之矣,何以知其然也?曰:管仲,桓公之賊也,鮑叔以為賢于己而
    進之為相,七十言而說乃听,遂使桓公除報讎之心而委國政焉。桓公垂拱
    無事而朝諸侯,鮑叔之力也;管仲之所以能北走桓公無自危之心者,同聲
    于鮑叔也。紂殺王子比干,箕子被發而佯狂,陳靈公殺泄冶而鄧元去陳;
    自是之后,殷兼于周,陳亡于楚,以其殺比干、泄冶而失箕子与鄧元也。
    燕昭王得郭隗,而鄒衍、樂毅以齊趙至,蘇子、屈景以周楚至,于是舉兵
    而攻齊,栖閔王于莒,燕校地計眾,非与齊均也,然所以能信意至于此者
    ,由得士也。故無常安之國,無琲v之民;得賢者則安昌,失之者則危亡
    ,自古及今,未有不然者也。明鏡所以昭形也,往古所以知今也,夫知惡
    往古之所以危亡,而不務襲跡于其所以安昌,則未有异乎卻走而求逮前人
    也,太公知之,故舉微子之后而封比干之墓,夫圣人之于死尚如是其厚也
    ,況當世而生存者乎!則其弗失可識矣。
    齊景公問于孔子曰:“秦穆公其國小,處僻而霸,何也?”對曰:“
    其國小而志大,雖處僻而其政中,其舉果,其謀和,其令不偷;親舉五翼
    大夫于系縲之中,与之語三日而授之政,以此取之,雖王可也,霸則小矣
    。”
    或曰:“將謂桓公仁義乎?殺兄而立,非仁義也;將謂桓公恭儉乎?
    与婦人同輿,馳于邑中,非恭儉也;將謂桓公清洁乎?閨門之內,無可嫁
    者,非清洁也。此三者亡國失君之行也,然而桓公兼有之,以得管仲隰朋
    ,九合諸侯,一匡天下,畢朝周室,為五霸長,以其得賢佐也;失管仲隰
    朋,任豎刁易牙,身死不葬,虫流出戶。一人之身,榮辱俱施者,何者?
    其所任异也。”由此觀之,則任佐急矣。周公旦白屋之士,所下者七十人
    ,而天下之士皆至;晏子所与同衣食者百人,而天下之士亦至;仲尼修道
    行,理文章,而天下之士亦至矣。伯牙子鼓琴,鐘子期听之,方鼓而志在
    太山,鐘子期曰:“善哉乎鼓琴!巍巍乎若太山。”少選之間,而志在流
    水,鐘子期复曰:“善哉乎鼓琴!湯湯乎若流水。”鐘子期死,伯牙破琴
    絕弦,終身不复鼓琴,以為世無足為鼓琴者。非獨鼓琴若此也,賢者亦然
    ,雖有賢者而無以接之,賢者奚由盡忠哉!驥不自至千里者,待伯樂而后
    至也。
    周威公問于宁子曰:“取士有道乎?”對曰:“有,窮者達之,亡者
    存之,廢者起之;四方之士,則四面而至矣。窮者不達,亡者不存,廢者
    不起;四方之士,則四面而畔矣。夫城固不能自守,兵利不能自保,得士
    而失之,必有其間,夫士存則君尊,士亡則君卑。”周武公曰:“士壹至
    如此乎?”對曰:“君不聞夫楚平王有士,曰楚蟥臕身鷩停餐踅鄙之,出
    亡之晉;晉人用之,是為城濮之戰。又有士曰苗賁皇,王將殺之,出亡走
    晉;晉人用之,是為鄢陵之戰。又有士曰上解于,王將殺之,出亡走晉;
    晉人用之,是為兩堂之戰。又有士曰伍子胥,王殺其父兄,出亡走吳;闔
    閭用之,于是興師而襲郢,故楚之大得罪于梁鄭宋衛之君,猶未遽至于此
    也。此四得罪于其士,三暴其民骨,一亡其國。由是觀之,士存則國存,
    士亡則國亡;子胥怒而亡之,申包胥怒而存之;士胡可無貴乎!”
    哀公問于孔子曰:“人若何而可取也?”孔子對曰:“毋取者,無取
    健者,毋取口銳者。”哀公曰:“何謂也?”孔子曰:“大給利不可盡用
    ;健者必欲兼人,不可以為法也;口銳者多誕而寡信,后恐不驗也。夫弓
    矢和調而后求其中焉;馬愨愿順,然后求其良材焉;人必忠信重厚,然后
    求其知能焉。今有人不忠信重厚而多智能,如此人者,譬猶豺狼与,不可
    以身近也。是故先其仁義之誠者,然后親之;于是有知能者,然后任之;
    故曰:親仁而使能。夫取人之術也,觀其言而察其行,夫言者所以抒其匈
    而發其情者也,能行之士必能言之,是故先觀其言而揆其行,夫以言揆其
    行,雖有奸軌之人,無以逃其情矣。”哀公曰:“善。”
    周公攝天子位七年,布衣之士,執贄所師見者十二人,窮巷白屋所見
    者四十九人,時進善者百人,教士者千人,官朝者万人。當此之時,誠使
    周公驕而且吝,則天下賢士至者寡矣,苟有至者,則必貪而尸祿者也,尸
    祿之臣,不能存君矣。
    齊桓公設庭燎,為士之欲造見者,期年而士不至,于是東野鄙人有以
    九九之術見者,桓公曰:“九九何足以見乎?”鄙人對曰:“臣非以九九
    為足以見也,臣聞主君設庭燎以待士,期年而士不至,夫士之所以不至者
    ,君、天下賢君也;四方之士,皆自以論而不及君,故不至也。夫九九薄
    能耳,而君猶禮之,況賢于九九乎?夫太山不辭壤石,江海不逆小流,所
    以成大也,詩云:‘先民有言,詢于芻蕘。’言博謀也。”桓公曰善,乃
    因禮之。期月四方之士,相攜而并至,詩曰:“自堂徂基,自羊徂牛。”
    言以內及外,以小及大也。
    齊景公伐宋,至于岐堤之上,登高以望,太息而嘆曰:“昔我先君桓
    公,長轂八百乘以霸諸侯,今我長轂三千乘,而不敢久處于此者,豈其無
    仲歟!”弦章對曰:“臣聞之,水廣則魚大,君明則臣忠;昔有桓公,故
    有管仲;今桓公在此,則車下之臣盡管仲也。”
    趙簡子游于河而樂之,嘆曰:“安得賢士而与處焉!”舟人古乘跪而
    對曰:“夫珠玉無足,去此數千里而所以能來者,人好之也;今士有足而
    不來者,此是吾君不好之乎!”趙簡子曰:“吾門左右客千人,朝食不足
    ,暮收市征,暮食不足,朝收市征,吾尚可謂不好士乎?”舟人古乘對曰
    :“鴻鵠高飛遠翔,其所恃者六翮也,背上之毛,腹下之毳,無尺寸之數
    ,去之滿把,飛不能為之益卑;益之滿把,飛不能為之益高。不知門下左
    右客千人者,有六翮之用乎?將盡毛毳也。”
    齊宣王坐,淳于髡侍,宣王曰:“先生論寡人何好?”淳于髡曰:“
    古者所好四,而王所好三焉。”宣王曰:“古者所好,何与寡人所好?”
    淳于髡曰:“古者好馬,王亦好馬;古者好味,王亦好味;古者好色,王
    亦好色;古者好士,王獨不好士。”宣王曰:“國無士耳,有則寡人亦說
    之矣。”淳于髡曰:“古者驊騮騏驥,今無有,王選于眾,王好馬矣;古
    者有豹象之胎,今無有,王選于眾,王好味矣;古者有毛Z西施,今無有
    ,王選于眾,王好色矣。王必將待堯舜禹湯之士而后好之,則禹湯之士亦
    不好王矣。”宣王嘿然無以應。
    衛君問于田讓曰:“寡人封侯盡千里之地,賞賜盡御府繒帛而士不至
    ,何也?”田讓對曰:“君之賞賜,不可以功及也;君之誅罰,不可以理
    避也;猶舉杖而呼狗,張弓而祝雞矣;雖有香餌而不能致者,害之必也。
    ”
    宗衛相齊,遇逐罷歸舍,召門尉田饒等二十有七而問焉,曰:“士大
    夫誰能与我赴諸侯者乎?”田饒等皆伏而不對。宗衛曰:“何士大夫之易
    得而難用也!”饒對曰:“非士大夫之難用也,是君不能用也。”宗衛曰
    :“不能用士大夫何若?”田饒對曰:“廚中有臭肉,則門下無死士矣。
    今夫三升之稷不足于士;而君雁有余粟。紈素綺繡靡麗。堂從風雨弊,而
    士曾不得以緣衣;果園梨粟,后宮婦人摭以相`,而士曾不得一嘗,且夫
    財者,君之所輕也;死者士之所重也,君不能用所輕之財,而欲使士致所
    重之死,豈不難乎哉?”于是宗衛面有慚色,逡巡避席而謝曰:“此衛之
    過也。”
    魯哀公問于孔子曰:“當今之時,君子誰賢?”對曰:“衛靈公。”
    公曰:“吾聞之,其閨門之內,姑姐妹無別。”對曰:“臣觀于朝廷,未
    觀于堂陛之間也。靈公之弟曰公子渠牟,其知足以治千乘之國,其信足以
    守之,而靈公愛之。又有士曰王材,國有賢人,必進而任之,無不達也;
    不能達,退而与分其祿,而靈公尊之。又有士曰慶足,國有大事,則進而
    治之,無不濟也,而靈公說之。史去衛,靈公邸舍三月,琴瑟不御,待史
    之入也而后入,臣是以知其賢也。”
    介子推行年十五而相荊,仲尼聞之,使人往視,還曰:“廊下有二十
    五俊士,堂上有二十五老人。”仲尼曰:“合二十五人之智,智于湯武;
    晼次迦酥戳擦諗磣妗災翁下,其固免矣乎!”
    孔子閑居,喟然而嘆曰:“銅殭伯華而無死,天下其有定矣。”子路
    曰:“愿聞其為人也何若。”孔子曰:“其幼也敏而好學,其壯也有勇而
    不屈,其老也有道而能以下人。”子路曰:“其幼也敏而好學則可,其壯
    也有勇而不屈則可;夫有道又誰下哉?”孔子曰:“由不知也。吾聞之,
    以眾攻寡而無不消也;以貴下賤,無不得也。昔在周公旦制天下之政而下
    士七十人,豈無道哉?欲得士之故也,夫有道而能下于天下之士,君子乎
    哉!”
    魏文侯從中山奔命安邑,田子方從,夫子擊過之,下車而趨,子方坐
    乘如故,告太子曰:“為我請君,待我朝歌。”太子不說,因為子方曰:
    “不識貧窮者驕人,富貴者驕人乎?”子方曰:“貧窮者驕人,富貴者安
    敢驕人,人主驕人而亡其國,吾未見以國待亡者也;大夫驕人而亡其家,
    吾未見以家待亡者也。貧窮者若不得意,納履而去,安往不得貧窮乎?貧
    窮者驕人,富貴者安敢驕人。”太子及文侯道田子方之語,文侯嘆曰:“
    微吾子之故,吾安得聞賢人之言,吾下子方以行,得而友之。自吾友子方
    也,君臣益親,百姓益附,吾是以得友士之功;我欲伐中山,吾以武下樂
    羊,三年而中山為獻于我,我是以得有武之功。吾所以不少進于此者,吾
    未見以智驕我者也;若得以智驕我者,豈不及古之人乎?”
    晉文侯行地登隧,大夫皆扶之,隨會不扶,文侯曰:“會!夫為人臣
    而忍其君者,其罪奚如?”對曰:“其罪重死。”文侯曰:“何謂重死?
    ”對曰:“身死,妻子為戮焉。”隨會曰:“君奚獨問為人臣忍其君者,
    而不問為人君而忍其臣者耶?”文侯曰:“為人君而忍其臣者,其罪何如
    ?”隨會對曰:“為人君而忍其臣者,智士不為謀,辨士不為言,仁士不
    為行,勇士不為死。”文侯援綏下車,辭大夫曰:“寡人有腰髀之病,愿
    諸大夫勿罪也。”
    齊將軍田理出將,張生郊送曰:“昔者堯讓許由以天下,洗耳而不受
    ,將軍知之乎?”曰:“唯然,知之。”“伯夷叔齊辭諸侯之位而不為,
    將軍知之乎?”曰:“唯然,知之。”“于陵仲子辭三公之位而佣為人灌
    園,將軍知之乎?”曰:“唯然,知之。”“智過去君第,變姓名,免為
    庶人,將軍知之乎?”曰:“唯然,知之。”“孫叔敖三去相而不悔,將
    軍知之乎?”曰:“唯然,知之。”“此五大夫者,名辭之而實羞之。今
    將軍方吞一國之權,提鼓擁旗,被堅執銳,旋回十万之師,擅斧鉞之誅,
    慎毋以士之所羞者驕士。”田理曰:“今日諸君皆為理祖道具酒脯,而先
    生獨教之以圣人之大道,謹聞命矣。”
    魏文侯見段干木,立倦而不敢息;及見翟璜,踞堂而与之言,翟璜不
    說。文侯曰:“段干木,官之則不肯,祿之則不受;今汝欲官則相至,欲
    祿則上卿;既受吾賞,又責吾禮,毋乃難乎?”
    孔子之郯,遭程子于涂,傾蓋而語終日。有間,顧子路曰:“取束帛
    一以贈先生。”子路不對。有間,又顧曰:“取束帛一以贈先生。”子路
    屑然對曰:“由聞之,士不中而見,女無媒而嫁,君子不行也。”孔子曰
    :“由,詩不云乎:‘野有蔓草,零露溥兮,有美一人,清揚婉兮,邂逅
    相遇,适我愿兮。’今程子天下之賢士也,于是不贈,終身不見。大德毋
    菖閑,小德出入可也。”
    齊桓公使管仲治國,管仲對曰:“賤不能臨貴。”桓公以為上卿而國
    不治,桓公曰何故?管仲對曰:“貧不能使富。”桓公賜之齊國市租一年
    而國不治,桓公曰何故?對曰:“疏不能制親。”桓公立以為仲父。齊國
    大安,而遂霸天下。孔子曰:“管仲之賢,不得此三權者,亦不能使其君
    南面而霸矣。”
    桓公問于管仲曰:“吾欲使爵腐于酒,肉腐于俎,得無害于霸乎?”
    管仲對曰:“此极非其貴者耳;然亦無害于霸也。”桓公曰:“何如而害
    霸?”管仲對曰:“不知賢,害霸;知而不用,害霸;用而不任,害霸;
    任而不信,害霸;信而复使小人參之,害霸。”桓公:“善。”
    魯人攻,曾子辭于君曰:“請出,寇罷而后复來,請姑毋使狗豕入吾
    舍。”君曰:“寡人之于先生也,人無不聞;今魯人攻我而先生去我,我
    胡守先生之舍?”魯人果攻而數之罪十,而曾子之所爭者九。魯師罷,君
    复修曾子舍而后迎之。
    宋司城子罕之貴子韋也,入与共食,出与同衣;司城子罕亡,子韋不
    從,子罕來,复召子韋而貴之。左右曰:“君之善子韋也,君亡不從,來
    又复貴之,君獨不愧于君之忠臣乎?”子罕曰:“吾唯不能用子韋,故至
    于亡;今吾之得复也,尚是子韋之遺德余教也,吾故貴之。且我之亡也,
    吾臣之削跡拔樹以從我者,奚益于吾亡哉?”
    楊因見趙簡主曰:“臣居鄉三逐,事君五去,聞君好士,故走來見。
    ”簡主聞之,絕食而嘆,跽而行,左右進諫曰:“居鄉三逐,是不容眾也
    ;事君五去,是不忠上也。今君有士見過人矣。”簡主曰:“子不知也。
    夫美女者,丑婦之仇也;盛德之士,亂世所疏也;正直之行,邪枉所憎也
    。”遂出見之,因授以為相,而國大治。由是觀之,遠近之人,不可以不
    察也。
    應侯与賈午子坐,聞其鼓琴之聲,應侯曰:“今日之琴,一何悲也?
    ”賈午子曰:“夫急張調下,故使人悲耳。急張者,良材也;調下者,官
    卑也。取夫良材而卑官之,安能無悲乎!”應侯曰:“善哉!”
    十三年,諸侯舉兵以伐齊,齊王聞之,惕然而恐,召其群臣大夫告曰
    :“有智為寡人用之。”于是博士淳于髡仰天大笑而不應,王复問之,又
    大笑不應,三笑不應,王艴然作色不悅曰:“先生以寡人語為戲乎?”對
    曰:“臣非敢以大王語為戲也,臣笑臣鄰之祠田也,以一奩飯,一壺酒,
    三鮒魚,祝曰:‘蟹咭撕蹋蔥罷儷擔泊敝春笫潰慚笱笥杏唷!笑其賜鬼薄
    而請之厚也。”于是王乃立淳于髡為上卿,賜之千金,革車百乘,与平諸
    侯之事;諸侯聞之,立罷其兵,休其士卒,遂不敢攻齊,此非淳于髡之力
    乎?
    田忌去齊奔楚,楚王郊迎至舍,問曰:“楚,万乘之國也,齊亦万乘
    之國也,常欲相參爸茨魏危俊倍栽唬骸耙字岸財朧股耆娼保蒼虺逋蛉耍彩
    股轄本敝矗倉燎萁本首而反耳。齊使田居將,則楚發二十万人,使上將軍
    將之,分別而相去也。齊使眄子將,楚發四封之內,王自出將而忌從,相
    國上將軍為左右司馬,如是則王僅得存耳。”于是齊使申孺將,楚發五万
    人,使上將軍至,擒將軍首反,于是齊王忿然,乃更使眄子將,楚悉發四
    封之內,王自出將,田忌從,相國上將軍為左右司馬,益王車屬九乘,僅
    得免耳。至舍,王北面正領齊,問曰:“先生何知之早也?”田忌曰:“
    申孺為人,侮賢者而輕不肖者,賢不肖者俱不為用,是以亡也;田居為人
    ,尊賢者而賤不肖者,賢者負任,不肖者退,是以分別而相去也;眄子之
    為人也,尊賢者而愛不肖者,賢不肖俱負任,是以王僅得存耳。”
    魏文侯觴大夫于曲陽,飲酣,文侯喟然嘆曰:“吾獨無豫讓以為臣。
    ”蹇重舉酒進曰:“臣請浮君。”文侯曰“何以?”對曰:“臣聞之,有
    命之父母,不知孝子;有道之君,不知忠臣。夫豫讓之君,亦何如哉?”
    文侯曰:“善!”受浮而飲之,嚼而不讓。曰:“無管仲鮑叔以為臣,故
    有豫讓之功也。”趙簡子曰:“吾欲得范中行氏良臣。”史d曰:“安用
    之?”簡子曰:“良臣,人所愿也,又何問焉?”曰:君以無為良臣故也
    。夫事君者,諫過而荐可,章善而替否,獻能而進賢;朝夕誦善,敗而納
    之,听則進,否則退。今范中行氏之良臣也,不能匡相其君,使至于難;
    出在于外,又不能入。亡而棄之,何良之為;若不棄,君安得之。夫良將
    營其君,使复其位,死而后止,何曰以來,若未能,乃非良也。”簡子曰
    :“善。”
    子路問于孔子曰:“治國何如?”孔子曰:“在于尊賢而賤不肖。”
    路曰:“范中行氏尊賢而賤不肖,其亡何也?”曰:“范中行氏尊賢而不
    能用也,賤不肖而不能去也;賢者知其不己用而怨之,不肖者知其賤己而
    讎之。賢者怨之,不肖者讎之;怨讎并前,中行氏雖欲無亡,得乎?”晉
    荊戰于,晉師敗績,顒父將歸請死,昭公將許之,士貞伯曰:“不可,城
    濮之役,晉胜于荊,文公猶有憂色,曰子玉猶存,憂未歇也;困獸猶斗,
    況國相乎?”及荊殺子玉,乃喜曰:“莫予毒也。今天或者大警晉也,林
    父之事君,進思盡忠,退思補過,社稷之衛也,今殺之,是重荊胜也。”

  • 說苑, Volume 1-4

    說苑, Volume 1-4

    Aproximadamente 4.113 palavras.

    Produced by Nicole Lai

    卷一 君道
    晉平公問于師曠曰:“人君之道如何?”對曰:“人君之道清淨無為
    ,務在博愛,趨在任賢;廣開耳目,以察万方;不固溺于流俗,不拘系于
    左右;廓然遠見,踔然獨立;屢省考績,以臨臣下。此人君之操也。”平
    公曰:“善!”
    齊宣王謂尹文曰:“人君之事何如?”尹文對曰:“人君之事,無為
    而能容下。夫事寡易從,法省易因;故民不以政獲罪也。大道容眾,大德
    容下;圣人寡為而天下理矣。書曰:‘睿作圣’。詩人曰:‘岐有夷之行
    ,子孫其保之!’”宣王曰:“善!”
    成王封伯禽為魯公,召而告之曰:“爾知為人上之道乎?凡處尊位者
    必以敬,下順德規諫,必開不諱之門,撙節安靜以借之,諫者勿振以威,
    毋格其言,博采其辭,乃擇可觀。夫有文無武,無以威下,有武無文,民
    畏不親,文武俱行,威德乃成;既成威德,民親以服,清白上通,巧佞下
    塞,諫者得進,忠信乃畜。”伯禽再拜受命而辭。
    陳靈公行僻而言失,泄冶曰:“陳其亡矣!吾驟諫君,君不吾听而愈
    失威儀。夫上之化下,猶風靡草,東風則草靡而西,西風則草靡而東,在
    風所由而草為之靡,是故人君之動不可不慎也。夫樹曲木者惡得直景,人
    君不直其行,不敬其言者,未有能保帝王之號,垂顯令之名者也。易曰:
    ‘夫君子居其室,出其言善,則千里之外應之,況其邇者乎?居其室,出
    其言不善,則千里之外違之,況其邇者乎?言出于身,加于民;行發乎邇
    ,見乎遠。言行君子之樞机,樞机之發,榮辱之主,君子之所以動天地,
    可不慎乎?’天地動而万物變化。詩曰:‘慎爾出話,敬爾威儀,無不柔
    嘉。’此之謂也。今君不是之慎而縱恣焉,不亡必。”靈公聞之,以泄冶
    為妖言而殺之,后果s于征舒。
    魯哀公問于孔子曰:“吾聞君子不博,有之乎?”孔子對曰:“有之
    。”哀公曰:“何為其不博也?”孔子對曰:“為其有二乘。”哀公曰:
    “有二乘則何為不博也?”孔子對曰:“為行惡道也。”哀公懼焉。有間
    曰:“若是乎君子之惡惡道之甚也!”孔子對曰:“惡惡道不能甚,則其
    好善道亦不能甚;好善道不能甚,則百姓之親之也,亦不能甚。”詩云:
    ‘未見君子,憂心慘嗉燃梗慘嗉汝碇梗參倚腦蛩怠!凳敝春蒙頻樂瓷躋踩
    恕哀公曰:“善哉!吾聞君子成人之美,不成人之惡。微孔子,吾焉聞斯
    言也哉?”
    河間獻王曰:“堯存心于天下,加志于窮民,痛万姓之罹罪,憂眾生
    之不遂也。有一民飢,則曰此我飢之也;有一人寒,則曰此我寒之也;一
    民有罪,則曰此我陷之也。仁昭而義立,德博而化廣;故不賞而民勸,不
    罰而民治。先恕而后教,是堯道也。當舜之時,有苗氏不服,其所以不服
    者,大山在其南,殿山在其北;左洞庭之波,右彭蠡之川;因此險也,所
    以不服,禹欲伐之,舜不許,曰:‘諭教猶未竭也,究諭教焉,而有苗氏
    請服,天下聞之,皆非禹之義,而歸舜之德。
    周公踐天子之位布德施惠,遠而逾明,十二牧,方三人,出舉遠方之
    民,有飢寒而不得衣食者,有獄訟而失職者,有賢才而不舉者,以入告乎
    天子,天子于其君之朝也,攝而進之曰:“意朕之政教有不得者与!何其
    所臨之民有飢寒不得衣食者,有獄訟而失職者,有賢才而不舉者?”其君
    歸也,乃召其國大夫,告用天子之言,百姓聞之皆喜曰:“此誠天子也!
    何居之深遠而見我之明也,豈可欺哉!”故牧者所以辟四門,明四目,達
    四聰也,是以近者親之,遠者安之。詩曰:“柔遠能邇,以定我王”,此
    之謂矣。
    河間獻王曰:“禹稱民無食,則我不能使也;功成而不利于人,則我
    不能勸也;故疏河以導之,鑿江通于九派,洒五湖而定東海,民亦勞矣,
    然而不怨者,利歸于民也。”
    禹出見罪人,下車問而泣之,左右曰:“夫罪人不順道,故使然焉,
    君王何為痛之至于此也?”禹曰:“堯舜之人,皆以堯舜之心為心;今寡
    人為君也,百姓各自以其心為心,是以痛之。”書曰:“百姓有罪,在予
    一人。”
    虞人与芮人質其成于文王,入文王之境,則見其人民之讓為士大夫;
    入其國則見其士大夫讓為公卿;二國者相謂曰:“其人民讓為士大夫,其
    士大夫讓為公卿,然則此其君亦讓以天下而不居矣。”二國者,未見文王
    之身,而讓其所爭以為閑田而反。孔子曰:“大哉文王之道乎!其不可加
    矣!不動而變,無為而成,敬慎恭己而虞芮自平。”故書曰:“惟文王之
    敬忌。”此之謂也。
    成王与唐叔虞燕居,剪梧桐葉以為圭,而授唐叔虞曰:“余以此封汝
    。”唐叔虞喜,以告周公,周公以請曰:“天子封虞耶?”成王曰:“余
    一与虞戲也。”周公對曰:“臣聞之,天子無戲言,言則史書之,工誦之
    ,士稱之。”于是遂封唐叔虞于晉,周公旦可謂善說矣,一稱而成王益重
    言,明愛弟之義,有輔王室之固。
    當堯之時,舜為司徒,契為司馬,禹為司空,后稷為田疇,夔為樂正
    ,?為工師,伯夷為秩宗,皋陶為大理,益掌驅禽,堯体力便巧不能為一
    焉,堯為君而九子為臣,其何故也?堯知九職之事,使九子者各受其事,
    皆胜其任以成九功,堯遂成厥功以王天下,是故知人者王道也,知事者臣
    道也,王道知人,臣道知事,毋亂舊法而天下治矣。
    湯問伊尹曰:“三公九卿,二十七大夫,八十一元士,知之有道乎?
    ”伊尹對曰:“昔者堯見人而知,舜任人然后知,禹以成功舉之。夫三君
    之舉賢,皆异道而成功,然尚有失者,況無法度而任己,直意用人,必大
    失矣。故君使臣自貢其能,則万一之不失矣,王者何?以選賢。夫王者得
    賢材以自輔,然后治也,雖有堯舜之明,而股肱不備,則主恩不流,化澤
    不行,故明君在上,慎于擇士,務于求賢,設四佐以自輔,有英俊以治官
    ,尊其爵,重其祿,賢者進以顯榮,罷者退而勞力,是以主無遺憂,下無
    邪慝,百官能治,臣下樂職,恩流群生,潤澤草木,昔者虞舜左禹右皋陶
    ,不下堂而天下治,此使能之效也。”
    武王問太公曰:“舉賢而以危亡者,何也?”太公曰:“舉賢而不用
    ,是有舉賢之名,而不得真賢之實也。”武王曰:“其失安在?”太公望
    曰:“其失在君好用小善而已,不得真賢也。”武王曰:“好用小善者何
    如?”太公曰:“君好听譽而不惡讒也,以非賢為賢,以非善為善,以非
    忠為忠,以非信為信;其君以譽為功,以毀為罪;有功者不賞,有罪者不
    罰;多党者進,少党者退;是以群臣比周而蔽賢,百吏群党而多奸;忠臣
    以誹死于無罪,邪臣以譽賞于無功。其國見于危亡。”武王曰:“善!吾
    今日聞誹譽之情矣。”
    武王問太公曰:“得賢敬士,或不能以為治者,何也?”太公對曰:
    “不能獨斷,以人言斷者殃也。”武王曰:“何為以人言斷?”太公對曰
    :“不能定所去,以人言去;不能定所取,以人言取;不能定所為,以人
    言為;不能定所罰,以人言罰;不能定所賞,以人言賞。賢者不必用,不
    肖者不必退,而士不必敬。”武王曰:“善,其為國何如?”太公對曰:
    “其為人惡聞其情,而喜聞人之情;惡聞其惡,而喜聞人之惡;是以不必
    治也。”武王曰:“善。”
    齊桓公問于宁戚曰:“鉑子今年老矣,為棄寡人而就世也,吾恐法令
    不行,人多失職,百姓疾怨,國多盜賊,吾何如而使奸邪不起,民衣食足
    乎?”宁戚對曰:“要在得賢而任之。”桓公曰:“得賢奈何?”宁戚對
    曰:“開其道路,察而用之,尊其位,重其祿,顯其名,則天下之士騷然
    舉足而至矣。”桓公曰:“既以舉賢士而用之矣,微夫子幸而臨之,則未
    有布衣屈奇之士踵門而求見寡人者。”宁戚對曰:“是君察之不明,舉之
    不顯;而用之疑,官之卑,祿之薄也;且夫國之所以不能士者,有五阻焉
    :主不好士,諂諛在旁,一阻也;言便事者,未嘗見用,二阻也;壅塞掩
    蔽,必因近習,然后見察,三阻也;訊獄詰窮其辭,以法過之,四阻也;
    執事适欲,擅國權命,五阻也。去此五阻,則豪俊并興,賢智求處;五阻
    不去,則上蔽吏民之情,下塞賢士之路;是故明王圣主之治,若夫江海無
    不受,故長為百川之主;明王圣君無不容,故安樂而長久。因此觀之,則
    安主利人者,非獨一士也。”桓公曰:“善,吾將著夫五阻以為戒本也。
    ”
    齊景公問于晏子曰:“寡人欲從夫子而善齊國之政。”對曰:“嬰聞
    之,國具官而后政可善。”景公作色曰:“齊國雖小,則何為不具官乎?
    ”對曰:“此非臣之所复也。昔先君桓公,身体墮懈,辭會不給,則隰朋
    侍;左右多過,刑罰不中,則弦章侍;居處肆縱,左右懾畏,則東郭牙侍
    ;田野不修,人民不安,則宁戚侍;軍吏怠,戎士偷,則王子成父侍;德
    義不中,信行衰微,則鉑子侍;先君能以人之長續其短,以人之厚補其薄
    ;是以辭令窮遠而不逆,兵加于有罪而不頓;是故諸侯朝其德而天子致其
    胙。今君之失多矣,未有一士以聞者也,故曰未具。”景公曰:“善。吾
    聞高繚与夫子游,寡人請見之。”晏子曰:“臣聞為地戰者不能成王,為
    祿仕者不能成政;若高繚与嬰為兄弟久矣,未嘗干嬰之過,補嬰之闕,特
    進仕之臣也,何足以補君。”
    燕昭王問于郭隗曰:“寡人地狹人寡,齊人削取八城,匈奴驅馳樓煩
    之下,以孤之不肖,得承宗廟,恐危社稷,存之有道乎?”郭隗曰:“有
    ,然恐王之不能用也。”昭王避席請聞之,郭隗曰:“帝者之臣,其名,
    臣也,其實,師也;王者之臣,其名,臣也,其實,友也;霸者之臣,其
    名,臣也,其實,賓也;危國之臣,其名,臣也,其實,虜也。今王將東
    面,目指气使以求臣,則 役之材至矣;南面听朝,不失揖讓之禮以求臣
    ,則人臣之材至矣;西面等禮相亢,下之以色,不乘勢以求臣,則朋友之
    材至矣;北面拘指,逡巡而退以求臣,則師傅之材至矣。如此則上可以王
    ,下可以霸,唯王擇焉。”燕王曰:“寡人愿學而無師。”郭隗曰:“王
    誠欲興道,隗請為天下之士開路。”于是燕王常置郭隗上坐南面,居三年
    ,蘇子聞之,從周歸燕;鄒衍聞之,從齊歸燕;樂毅聞之,從趙歸燕;屈
    景聞之,從楚歸燕。四子畢至,果以弱燕收鴐蘢辣蝐桷央姓街垂玻菜勻徽
    擼菜淖又戳病曰:“濟濟多士,文王以宁。”此之謂也。
    楚庄王既服鄭伯,敗晉師,將軍子重,三言而不當,庄王歸,過申侯
    之邑,申侯進飯,日中而王不食,申侯請罪,庄王喟然嘆曰:“吾聞之,
    其君賢者也,而又有師者王;其君中君也,而又有師者霸;其君下君也,
    而群臣又莫若君者亡。今我,下君也,而群臣又莫若不谷恐亡,且世不絕
    圣,國不絕賢;天下有賢而我獨不得,若吾生者,何以食為?”故戰服大
    國義從諸侯,戚然憂恐圣知不在乎身,自惜不肖,思得賢佐,日中忘飯,
    可謂明君矣。
    明主者有三懼,一曰處尊位而恐不聞其過,二曰得意而恐驕,三曰聞
    天下之至言而恐不能行,何以識其然也?越王勾踐与吳人戰,大敗之,兼
    有九夷,當是時也,南面而立,近臣三,遠臣五,令群臣曰聞吾過而不告
    者其罪刑,此處尊位而恐不聞其過者也。昔者晉文公楚人戰,大胜之,燒
    其軍,火三日不滅,文公退而有憂色,侍者曰:“君大胜楚,今有憂色,
    何也?”文公曰:“吾聞能以戰胜而安者,其唯圣人乎!若夫詐胜之徒,
    未嘗不危也,吾是以憂。”此得意而恐驕也。昔齊桓公得鉑仲隰朋,辯其
    言,說其義,正月之朝,令具太牢進之先祖,桓公西面而立,鉑仲隰朋東
    面而立,桓公贊曰:“自吾得听二子之言,吾目加明,耳加聰,不敢獨擅
    ,愿荐之先祖。”此聞天下之至言而恐不能行者也。齊景公出獵,上山見
    虎,下澤見蛇,歸召晏子而問之曰:“今日寡人出獵,上山則見虎,下澤
    則見蛇,殆所謂之不祥也。”晏子曰:“國有三不祥,是不与焉,夫有賢
    而不知,一不祥;知而不用,二不祥;用而不任,三不祥也;所謂不祥乃
    若此者也。今山上見虎,虎之室也,下澤見蛇,蛇之穴也,如虎之室,如
    蛇之穴而見之,曷為不祥也。”
    楚庄王好獵,大夫諫曰:“晉楚敵國也,楚不謀晉,晉必謀楚,今王
    無乃耽于樂乎?”王曰:“吾獵將以求士也,其榛皁刺虎豹者,吾是以知
    其勇也;其攫犀搏兕者,吾是以知其勁有力也;罷田而分所得,吾是以知
    其仁也。因是道也而得三士焉,楚國以安。”故曰:苟有志則無非事者,
    此之謂也。湯之時大旱七年,雒坼川竭,煎沙爛石,于是使人持三足鼎,
    祝山川,教之祝曰:政不節耶?使人疾耶?苞苴行耶?讒夫昌耶?宮室營
    耶?女謁盛耶?何不雨之极也,蓋言未已而天大雨,故天之應人,如影之
    隨形,響之效聲者也。詩云:“上下奠瘞,靡神不宗。”言疾旱也。
    殷太戊時,有桑谷生于庭,昏而生,比旦而拱,史請卜之湯廟,太戊
    從之,卜者曰:“吾聞之,祥者福之先者也,見祥而為不善,則福不生;
    殃者禍之先者也,見殃而能為善,則禍不至。”于是乃早朝而晏退,問疾
    吊喪,三日而桑谷自亡。
    高宗者,武丁也,高而宗之,故號高宗,成湯之后,先王道缺,刑法
    違犯,桑谷俱生乎朝,七日而大拱,武丁召其相而問焉,其相曰:“吾雖
    知之,吾弗得言也。聞諸祖己,桑谷者野草也,而生于朝,意者國亡乎?
    ”武丁恐駭,飭身修行,思先王之政,興滅國,繼絕世;舉逸民,明養老
    。三年之后,蠻夷重譯而朝者七國,此之謂存亡繼絕之主,是以高而尊之
    也。
    宋大水,魯人吊之曰:“天降淫雨,溪谷滿盈,延及君地,以憂執政
    ,使臣敬吊。”宋人應之曰:“寡人不佞,齋戒不謹,邑封不修,使人不
    時,天加以殃,又遺君憂,拜命之辱。”君子聞之曰:“宋國其庶几乎!
    ”問曰:“何謂也?”曰:“昔者夏桀殷紂不任其過,其亡也忽焉;成湯
    文武知任其過,其興也勃焉;夫過而改之,是猶不過。故曰其庶几乎!”
    宋人聞之,夙興夜寐,早朝晏退,吊死問疾,戮力宇內。三年,歲丰政平
    ,向使宋人不聞君子之語,則年谷未丰而國未宁,詩曰:“佛時仔肩,示
    我顯德行。”此之謂也。
    楚昭王有疾,卜之曰:“河為祟。”大夫請用三牲焉。王曰:“止,
    古者先王割地制土,祭不過望;江、漢、睢、漳,楚之望也;禍福之至,
    不是過也。不谷雖不德,河非所獲罪也。”遂不祭焉。仲尼聞之曰:“昭
    王可謂知天道矣,其不失國,宜哉!”
    楚昭王之時,有云如飛鳥,夾日而飛三日,昭王患之,使人乘驛東而
    問諸太史州黎,州黎曰:“將虐于王身,以令尹司馬說焉則可。”令尹司
    馬聞之,宿齋沐浴,將自以身禱之焉。王曰:“止,楚國之有不谷也,由
    身之有匈脅也;其有令尹司馬也,由身之有股肱也。匈脅有疾,轉之股肱
    ,庸為去是人也?”
    邾文公卜徙于繹,史曰:“利于民不利于君。”君曰:“苟利于民,
    寡人之利也,天生民而樹之君,以利之也,民既利矣,孤必与焉!”侍者
    曰:“命可長也,君胡不為?”君曰:“命在牧民,死之短長,時也;民
    苟利矣,吉孰大焉。”遂徙于繹。
    楚庄王見天不見妖,而地不出孽,則禱于山川曰:“天其忘予歟?”
    此能求過于天,必不逆諫矣,安不忘危,故能終而成霸功焉。
    湯曰:“藥食先嘗于卑,然后至于貴;藥言先獻于貴,然后聞于卑。
    ”故藥嘗乎卑,然后至乎貴,教也;藥言獻于貴,然后聞于卑,道也。故
    使人味食然后食者,其得味也多;使人味言然后聞言者,其得言也少。是
    以明王之言,必自他听之,必自他聞之,必自他擇之,必自他取之,必自
    他聚之,必自他藏之,必自他行之;故道以數取之為明,以數行之為章,
    以數施之万物為藏。是故求道者不以目而以心,取道者不以手而以耳。
    楚文王有疾,告大夫曰:“鉑饒犯我以義,違我以禮,与處不安,不
    見不思,然吾有得焉,必以吾時爵之;申侯伯,吾所欲者,勸我為之;吾
    所樂者,先我行之。与處、則安,不見、則思,然吾有喪焉,必以吾時遺
    之。”大夫許諾,乃爵鉑饒以大夫,贈申侯伯而行之。
    申侯伯將之鄭,王曰:“必戒之矣,而為人也不仁,而欲得人之政,毋以
    之魯、衛、宋、鄭。”不听,遂之鄭,三年而得鄭國之政,五月而鄭人殺
    之。
    趙簡子与欒激游,將沈于河,曰:“吾嘗好聲色矣,而欒激致之;吾
    嘗好宮室台榭矣,而欒激為之;吾嘗好良馬善御矣,而欒激求之。今吾好
    士六年矣,而欒激未嘗進一人,是進吾過而黜吾善也。”
    或謂趙簡子曰:“君何不更乎?”簡子曰:“諾。”左右曰:“君未
    有過,何更?”君曰:“吾謂是諾,未必有過也,吾將求以來諫者也,今
    我卻之,是卻諫者,諫者必止,我過無日矣。”
    韓武子田,獸已聚矣,田車合矣,傳來告曰:“晉公薨。”武子謂欒
    怀子曰:“子亦知君好田獵也,獸已聚矣,田車合矣,吾可以卒獵而后吊
    乎?”怀子對曰:“范氏之亡也,多輔而少拂,今臣于君,輔也;?于君
    ,拂也,君胡不問于?也?”武子曰:“盈而欲拂我乎?而拂我矣,何必?
    哉?”遂輟田。
    師經鼓琴,魏文侯起舞,賦曰:“使我言而無見違。”師經援琴而撞
    文侯不中,中旒潰之,文侯謂左右曰:“為人臣而撞其君,其罪如何?”
    左右曰:“罪當烹。”提師經下堂一等。師經曰:“臣可一言而死乎?”
    文侯曰:“可。”師經曰:“昔堯舜之為君也,唯恐言而人不違;桀紂之
    為君也,唯恐言而人違之。臣撞桀紂,非撞吾君也。”文侯曰:“釋之!
    是寡人之過也,懸琴于城門以為寡人符,不補旒以為寡人戒。”
    齊景公游于蔞,聞晏子卒,公乘輿素服,驛而驅之,自以為遲,下車
    而趨,知不若車之速,則又乘,比至于國者四下而趨,行哭而往矣,至伏
    尸而號曰:“子大夫日夜責寡人,不遺尺寸,寡人猶且淫u而不收,怨罪
    重積于百姓。今天降禍于齊國,不加寡人而加夫子,齊國之社稷危矣,百
    姓將誰告矣?”
    晏子沒十有七年,景公飲諸大夫酒,公射出質,堂上唱善,若出一口
    ,公作色太息,播弓矢。弦章入,公曰:“章,自吾失晏子,于今十有七
    年,未嘗聞吾過不善,今射出質而唱善者,若出一口。”弦章對曰:“此
    諸臣之不肖也,知不足知君之善,勇不足以犯君之顏色。然而有一焉,臣
    聞之:君好之,則臣服之;君嗜之,則臣食之。夫尺蠖食黃,則其身黃,
    食蒼則其身蒼;君其猶有陷人言乎?”公曰:“善!今日之言,章為君,
    我為臣。”是時海人入魚,公以五十乘賜弦章歸,魚乘塞涂,撫其御之手
    ,曰:“曩之唱善者,皆欲若魚者也。”昔者晏子辭賞以正君,故過失不
    掩,今諸臣諂諛以干利,故出質而唱善如出一口,今所輔于君,未見眾而
    受若魚,是反晏子之義而順諂諛之欲也,固辭魚不受。君子曰:弦章之廉
    ,乃晏子之遺訓也。夫天之生人也,蓋非以為君也;天之立君也,蓋非以
    為位也。夫為人君行其私欲而不顧其人,是不承天意忘其位之所以宜事也
    ,如此者,春秋不予能君而夷狄之,鄭伯惡一人而兼棄其師,故有夷狄不
    君之辭,人主不以此自省,惟既以失實,心奚因知之,故曰:有國者不可
    以不學春秋,此之謂也。
    齊人s其君,魯襄公援戈而起曰:“孰臣而敢殺其君乎?”師懼曰:
    “夫齊君治之不能,任之不肖,縱一人之欲以虐万夫之性,非所以立君也
    。其身死自取之也;今君不愛万夫之命而傷一人之死,奚其過也。其臣已
    無道矣,其君亦不足惜也。”
    孔子曰:“文王似元年,武王似春王,周公似正月,文王以王季為友
    ,以太任為母,以太姒為妃,以武王周公為子,以泰顛閎夭為臣,其本美
    矣。武王正其身以正其國,正其國以正天下,伐無道,刑有罪,一動天下
    正,其事正矣。春致其時,万物皆及生,君致其道,万人皆及治,周公戴
    己而天下順之,其誠至矣。”
    尊君卑臣者,以勢使之也。夫勢失則權傾,故天子失道,則諸侯尊矣
    ;諸侯失政,則大夫起矣;大夫失官,則庶人興矣。由是觀之,上不失而
    下得者,未嘗有也。
    孔子曰:夏道不亡,商德不作;商德不亡,周德不作;周德不亡,春
    秋不作;春秋作而后君子知周道亡也。故上下相虧也,猶水火之相滅也,
    人君不可不察而大盛其臣下,此私門盛而公家毀也,人君不察焉,則國家
    危殆矣。鉑子曰:權不兩錯,政不二門。故曰:脛大于股者難以步,指大
    于臂者難以把,本小末大,不能相使也。
    司城子罕相宋,謂宋君曰:“國家之危定,百姓之治亂,在君行之賞
    罰

    卷二 臣術

    人臣之術,順從而复命,無所敢專,義不苟合,位不苟尊;必有益于
    國,必有補于君;故其身尊而子孫保之。故人臣之行有六正六邪,行六正
    則榮,犯六邪則辱,夫榮辱者,禍福之門也。何謂六正六邪?六正者:一
    曰萌芽未動,形兆未見,昭然獨見存亡之几,得失之要,預禁乎不然之前
    ,使主超然立乎顯榮之處,天下稱孝焉,如此者圣臣也。二曰虛心白意,
    進善信道,勉主以体誼,諭主以長策,將順其美,匡救其惡,功成事立,
    歸善于君,不敢獨伐其勞,如此者良臣也。三曰卑身賤体,夙興夜寐,進
    賢不解,數稱于往古之德行事以厲主意,庶几有益,以安國家社稷宗廟,
    如此者忠臣也。四曰明察幽,見成敗早,防而救之,引而复之,塞其間,
    絕其源,轉禍以為福,使君終以無憂,如此者智臣也。五曰守文奉法,任
    官職事,辭祿讓賜,不受贈遺,衣服端齊,飲食節儉,如此者貞臣也。六
    曰國家昏亂,所為不道,然而敢犯主之顏面,言君之過失,不辭其誅,身
    死國安,不悔所行,如此者直臣也,是為六正也。六邪者:一曰安官貪祿
    ,營于私家,不務公事,怀其智,藏其能,主飢于論,渴于策,猶不肯盡
    節,容容乎与世沈浮上下,左右觀望,如此者具臣也。二曰主所言皆曰善
    ,主所為皆曰可,隱而求主之所好即進之,以快主耳目,偷合苟容与主為
    樂,不顧其后害,如此者諛臣也。三曰中實頗險,外容貌小謹,巧言令色
    ,又心嫉賢,所欲進則明其美而隱其惡,所欲退則明其過而匿其美,使主
    妄行過任,賞罰不當,號令不行,如此者奸臣也。四曰智足以飾非,辯足
    以行說,反言易辭而成文章,內离骨肉之親,外妒亂朝廷,如此者讒臣也
    。五曰專權擅勢,持招國事以為輕重于私門,成党以富其家,又复增加威
    勢,擅矯主命以自顯貴,如此者賊臣也。六曰諂言以邪,墜主不義,朋党
    比周,以蔽主明,入則辯言好辭,出則更复异其言語,使白黑無別,是非
    無間,伺侯可推,而因附然,使主惡布于境內,聞于四鄰,如此者亡國之
    臣也,是謂六邪。賢臣處六正之道,不行六邪之術,故上安而下治,生則
    見樂,死則見思,此人臣之術也。
    湯問伊尹曰:“三公九卿大夫列士,其相去何如?”伊尹對曰:“三
    公者,知通于大道,應變而不窮,辯于万物之情,通于天道者也;其言足
    以調陰陽,正四時,節風雨,如是者舉以為三公,故三公之事,常在于道
    也。九卿者,不失四時通于溝渠,修堤防,樹五谷,通于地理者也;能通
    不能通,能利不能利,如此者舉以為九卿,故九卿之事,常在于德也。大
    夫者,出入与民同眾,取去与民同利,通于人事,行猶舉繩,不傷于言,
    言之于世,不害于身,通于關梁,實于府庫,如是者舉以為大夫,故大夫
    之事常在于仁也。列士者,知義而不失其心,事功而不獨專其賞,忠政強
    諫而無有奸詐,去私立公而言有法度,如是者舉以為列士,故列士之事,
    常在于義也。故道德仁義定而天下正,凡此四者明王臣而不臣。”湯曰:
    “何謂臣而不臣?”伊尹對曰:“君之所不名臣者四:諸父、臣而不名,
    諸兄、臣而不名,先生之臣、臣而不名,盛德之士、臣而不名,是謂大順
    。”
    湯問伊尹曰:“古者所以立三公、九卿、大夫、列士者,何也?”伊
    尹對曰:“三公者,所以參五事也;九卿者,所以參三公也;大夫者,所
    以參九卿也;列士者,所以參大夫也。故參而有參,是謂事宗;事宗不失
    ,外內若一。”
    子貢問孔子曰:“今之人臣孰為賢?”孔子曰:“吾未識也,往者齊
    有鮑叔,鄭有子皮,賢者也。”子貢曰:“然則齊無鉑仲,鄭無子產乎?
    ”子曰:“賜,汝徒知其一,不知其二,汝聞進賢為賢耶?用力為賢耶?
    ”子貢曰:“進賢為賢?”子曰:“然,吾聞鮑叔之進鉑仲也,聞子皮之
    進子產也,未聞鉑仲子產有所進也。”魏文侯且置相,召李克而問焉,曰
    :“寡人將置相,置于季成子与翟触,我孰置而可?”李克曰:“臣聞之
    ,賤不謀貴,外不謀內,疏不謀親,臣者疏賤,不敢聞命。”文侯曰:“
    此國事也,愿与先生臨事而勿辭。”李克曰:“君不察故也,可知矣,貴
    視其所舉,富視其所与,貧視其所不取,窮視其所不為,由此觀之,可知
    矣。”文侯曰:“先生出矣,寡人之相定矣。”李克出,過翟黃,翟黃問
    曰:“吾聞君問相于先生,未知果孰為相?”李克曰:“季成子為相。”
    翟黃作色不說曰:“触失望于先生。”李克曰:“子何遽失望于我,我于
    子之君也,豈与我比周而求大官哉?君問相于我,臣對曰:‘君不察故也
    ,貴視其所舉,富視其所与,貧視其所不取,窮視其所不為,由此觀之可
    知也。’君曰:‘出矣,寡人之相定矣。’以是知季臣子為相。”翟黃不
    說曰:“触何遽不為相乎?西河之守,触所任也;計事內史,触所任也;
    王欲攻中山,吾進樂羊;無使治之臣,吾進先生;無使傅其子,吾進屈侯
    附。触何負于季成子?”李克曰:“不如季成子,季成子食采千鐘,什九
    居外一居中;是以東得卜子夏,田子方,段干木,彼其所舉人主之師也,
    子之所舉,人臣之才也。”翟黃方然而慚曰:“触失對于先生,請自修,
    然后學。”言未卒,而左右言季成子立為相矣,于是翟黃默然變色內慚,
    不敢出,三月也。
    楚令尹死,景公遇成公干曰:“令尹將焉歸?”成公干曰:“殆于屈
    春乎!”景公怒曰:“國人以為歸于我。”成公干曰:“子資少,屈春資
    多,子義獲天下之至憂,而以為友;鳴鶴与芻狗,其知甚少,而子玩之。
    鴟夷子皮日侍于屈春,損頗為友,二人者之智,足以為令尹,不敢專其智
    而委之屈春,故曰:政其歸于屈春乎!”
    田子方渡西河,造翟黃,翟黃乘軒車,載華蓋黃金之勒,約鎮簟席,
    如此者其駟八十乘,子方望之以為人君也,道狹下抵車而待之,翟黃至而
    睹其子方也,下車而趨,自投下風,曰:“触”,田子方曰:“子与!吾
    向者望子疑以為人君也,子至而人臣也,將何以至此乎?”翟黃對曰:“
    此皆君之所以賜臣也,積三十歲故至于此,時以間暇祖之曠野,正逢先生
    。”子方曰:“何子賜車滏之厚也?”翟黃對曰:“昔者西河無守,臣進
    吳起;而西河之外,宁鄴無令,臣進西門豹;而魏無趙患,酸棗無令,臣
    進北門可;而魏無齊憂,魏欲攻中山,臣進樂羊而中山拔;魏無使治之臣
    ,臣進李克而魏國大治。是以進此五大夫者,爵祿倍以故至于此。”子方
    曰:“可,子勉之矣,魏國之相不去子而之他矣。”翟黃對曰:“君母弟
    有公孫季成者,進子夏而君師之,進段干木而君友之,進先生而君敬之,
    彼其所進,師也,友也,所敬者也,臣之所進者,皆守職守祿之臣也,何
    以至魏國相乎?”子方曰:“吾聞身賢者賢也,能進賢者亦賢也,子之五
    舉者盡賢,子勉之矣,子終其次也。”
    齊威王游于瑤台,成侯卿來奏事,從車羅綺甚眾,王望之謂左右曰:
    “來者何為者也?”左右曰:“成侯卿也。”王曰:“國至貧也,何出之
    盛也?”左右曰:“与人者有以責之也,受人者有以易之也。”王試問其
    說,成侯卿至,上謁曰:“忌也。”王不應。又曰:“忌也。”王不應。
    又曰:“忌也。”王曰:“國至貧也,何出之盛也?”成侯卿曰:“赦其
    死罪,使臣得言其說。”王曰:“諾”。對曰:“忌舉田居子為西河而秦
    梁弱,忌舉田解子為南城,而楚人抱羅綺而朝,忌舉黔涿子為冥州,而燕
    人給牲,趙人給盛,忌舉田种首子為即墨,而于齊足究,忌舉北郭刁勃子
    為大士,而九族益親,民益富,舉此數良人者,王枕而臥耳,何患國之貧
    哉?”
    秦穆公使賈人載鹽,征諸賈人,賈人買百里奚以五翼羊之皮,使將車
    之秦,秦穆公觀鹽,見百里奚牛肥,曰:“任重道遠以險,而牛何以肥也
    ?”對曰:“臣飲食以時,使之不以暴;有險,先后之以身,是以肥也。
    ”穆公知其君子也,令有司其沐浴為衣冠与坐,公大悅,异日与公孫支論
    政,公孫支大不宁曰:“君耳目聰明,思慮審察,君其得圣人乎!”公曰
    :“然,吾悅夫奚之言,彼類圣人也。”公孫支遂歸取鷫以賀曰:“君得
    社稷之圣臣,敢賀社稷之福。”公不辭,再拜而受,明日,公孫支乃致上
    卿以讓百里奚曰:“秦國處僻,民陋以愚無知,危亡之本也,臣自知不足
    以處其上,請以讓之。”公不許,公孫支曰:“君不用賓相而得社稷之圣
    臣,君之祿也;臣見賢而讓之,臣之祿也。今君既得其祿矣,而使臣失祿
    可乎?請終致之!”公不許。公孫支曰:“臣不肖而處上位是君失倫也,
    不肖失倫,臣之過,進賢而退不肖,君之明也,今臣處位,廢君之德而逆
    臣之行也,臣將逃。”公乃受之。故百里奚為上卿以制之,公孫支為次卿
    以佐之也。
    趙簡主從晉陽之邯鄲,中路而止,引車吏進問何為止,簡主曰:“董
    安于在后。”吏曰:“此三軍之事也,君奈何以一人留三軍也?”簡主曰
    :“諾。”驅之百步又止,吏將進諫,董安于适至,簡主曰:“秦道之与
    晉國交者,吾忘令人塞之。”董安于曰:“此安于之所為后也。”簡主曰
    :“官之寶璧吾忘令人載之。”對曰:“此安于之所為后也。”簡主可謂
    內省外知人矣哉!故身佚國安,御史大夫周昌曰:“人主誠能如趙簡主,
    朝不危矣。”
    晏子侍于景公,朝寒請進熱食,對曰:“嬰非君之廚養臣也,敢辭。
    ”公曰:“請進服裘。”對曰:“嬰非田澤之臣也,敢辭。”公曰:“然
    ,夫子于寡人奚為者也?”對曰:“社稷之臣也。”公曰:“何謂社稷之
    臣?”對曰:“社稷之臣,能立社稷,辨上下之宜,使得其理;制百官之
    序,使得其宜;作為辭令,可分布于四方。”自是之后,君不以禮不見晏
    子也。
    齊侯問于晏子曰:“忠臣之事其君何若?”對曰:“有難不死,出亡
    不送。”君曰:“裂地而封之,疏爵而貴之;吾有難不死,出亡不送,可
    謂忠乎?”對曰:“言而見用,終身無難,臣何死焉;謀而見從,終身不
    亡,臣何送焉。若言不見用,有難而死之,是妄死也;諫而不見從,出亡
    而送,是詐為也。故忠臣者能納善于君而不能与君陷難者也。”
    晏子朝,乘敝車,駕駑馬,景公見之曰:“嘻!夫子之祿寡耶!何乘
    不任之甚也!”晏子對曰:“賴君之賜,得以壽三族及國交游皆得生焉,
    臣得暖衣飽食,敝車駑馬,以奉其身,于臣足矣。”晏子出,公使梁丘据
    遺之輅車乘馬,三返不受,公不悅,趣召晏子,晏子至,公曰:“夫子不
    受,寡人亦不乘。”晏子對曰:“君使臣臨百官之吏,節其衣服飲食之養
    ,以先齊國之人,然猶恐其侈靡而不顧其行也;今輅車乘馬,君乘之上,
    臣亦乘之下,民之無義,侈其衣食而不顧其行者,臣無以禁之。”遂讓不
    受也。
    景公飲酒,陳桓子侍,望見晏子而复于公曰:“請浮晏子。”公曰:
    “何故也?”對曰:“晏子衣緇布之衣,糜鹿之裘,棧軫之車,而駕駑馬
    以朝,是隱君之賜也。”公曰:“諾。”酌者奉觴而進之曰:“君命浮子
    。”晏子曰:“何故也?”陳桓子曰:“君賜之卿位以尊其身,寵之百万
    以富其家,群臣之爵,莫尊于子,祿莫厚于子;今子衣布衣之衣,糜鹿之
    裘,棧軫之車而駕駑馬以朝,則是隱君之賜也,故浮子。”晏子避席曰:
    “請飲而后辭乎?其辭而后飲乎?”公曰:“辭然后飲。”晏子曰:“君
    賜卿位以顯其身,嬰不敢為顯受也,為行君令也;寵之百万以富其家,嬰
    不敢為富受也,為通君賜也;臣聞古之賢臣有受厚賜而不顧其國族,則過
    之;臨事守職不胜其任,則過之;君之內隸,臣之父兄,若有离散在于野
    鄙者,此臣之罪也;君之外隸,臣之所職,若有播亡在四方者,此臣之罪
    也;兵革不完,戰車不修,此臣之罪也。若夫敝車駑馬以朝主者,非臣之
    罪也,且臣以君之賜,臣父之党無不乘車者,母之党無不足以衣食者,妻
    之党無凍餒者,國之簡士待臣而后舉火者數百家,如此為隱君之賜乎?彰
    君之賜乎?”公曰:“善,為我浮桓子也。”
    晏子方食,君之使者至,分食而食之,晏子不飽,使者返言之景公,
    景公曰:“嘻,夫子之家若是其貧也,寡人不知也,是寡人之過也。”令
    吏致千家之縣一于晏子,晏子再拜而辭,曰:“嬰之家不貧,以君之賜,
    澤覆三族,延及交游,以振百姓,君之賜也厚矣,嬰之家不貧也!嬰聞之
    ,厚取之君而厚施之人,代君為君也,忠臣不為也;厚取之君而藏之,是
    筐隕存也,仁人不為也;厚取之君而無所施之,身死而財遷,智者不為也
    。嬰也聞為人臣,進不事上以為忠,退不克下以為廉,八升之布,一豆之
    食,足矣。”使者三返,遂辭不受也。
    陳成子謂鴟夷子皮曰:“何与常也?”對曰:“君死吾不死,君亡吾
    不亡。”陳成子曰:“然子何以与常?”對曰:“未死去死,未亡去亡,
    其有何死亡矣!從命利君謂之順,從命病君謂之諛,逆命利君謂之忠,逆
    命病君謂之亂,君有過不諫諍,將危國殞社稷也,有能盡言于君,用則留
    之,不用則去之,謂之諫;用則可生,不用則死,謂之諍;有能比和同力
    ,率群下相与強矯君,君雖不安,不能不听,遂解國之大患,除國之大害
    ,成于尊君安國謂之輔;有能亢君之命,反君之事,竊君之重以安國之危
    ,除主之辱攻伐足以成國之大利,謂之弼。故諫諍輔弼之人,社稷之臣也
    ,明君之所尊禮,而君以為己賊;故明君之所賞,君之所殺也。明君好問
    ,君好獨,明君上賢使能而享其功;君畏賢妒能而減其業,罰其忠,而賞
    其賊,夫是之謂至,桀紂之所以亡也。詩云:‘曾是莫听,大命以傾’此
    之謂也。”
    簡子有臣尹綽、赦厥。簡子曰:“厥愛我,諫我必不于眾人中;綽也
    不愛我,諫我必于眾人中。”尹綽曰:“厥也愛君之丑而不愛君之過也,
    臣愛君之過而不愛君之丑。”孔子曰:“君子哉!尹綽,面訾不譽也。”
    高繚仕于晏子,晏子逐之,左右諫曰:“高繚之事夫子,三年曾無以
    爵位,而逐之,其義可乎?”晏子曰:“嬰仄陋之人也,四維之然后能直
    ,今此子事吾三年,未嘗弼吾過,是以逐之也。”
    子貢問孔子曰:“賜為人下,而未知所以為人下之道也?”孔子曰:
    “為人下者,其猶土乎!种之則五谷生焉,掘之則甘泉出焉,草木植焉,
    禽獸育焉,生人立焉,死人入焉,多其功而不言,為人下者,其猶土乎!
    ”
    孫卿曰:“少使長,賤事貴,不肖事賢,此天下之通義也。有人貴而
    不能為人上,賤而羞為人下,此奸人之心也,身不离奸心,而行不离奸道
    ,然而求見譽于眾,不亦難乎?”
    公叔文子問于史叟曰:“武子胜事趙簡子久矣,其寵不解,奚也?”
    史叟曰:“武子胜,博聞多能而位賤,君親而近之,致敏以裁甓柚矗蒼蜆
    拊股保踩胗憊遙渤不見其寵,君賜之祿,知足而辭,故能久也。”
    泰誓曰:“附下而罔上者死,附上而罔下者刑;与聞國政而無益于民
    者退,在上位而不能進賢者逐。”此所以勸善而黜惡也。故傳曰:“傷善
    者國之殘也,蔽善者國之讒也,棰罪者國之賊也。”
    王制曰:“假于鬼神時日卜筮以疑于眾者殺也。”子路為蒲令,備水
    災,与民春修溝瀆,為人煩苦,故予人一簞食,一壺漿,孔子聞之,使子
    貢复之,子路忿然不悅,往見夫子曰:“由也以暴雨將至,恐有水災,故
    与人修溝瀆以備之,而民多匱于食,故与人一簞食一壺漿,而夫子使賜止
    之,何也?夫子止由之行仁也,夫子以仁教而禁其行仁也,由也不受。”
    子曰:“爾以民為餓,何不告于君,發倉廩以給食之;而以爾私饋之,是
    汝不明君之惠,見汝之德義也,速已則可矣,否則爾之受罪不久矣。”子
    路心服而退也。

    卷三 建本

    孔子曰:“君子務本,本立而道生。”夫本不正者末必倚,始不盛者
    終必衰。詩云:“原隰既平,泉流既清”。本立而道生,春秋之義;有正
    春者無亂秋,有正君者無危國,易曰:“建其本而万物理,失之毫厘,差
    以千里”。是故君子貴建本而重立始。
    魏武侯問元年于吳子,吳子對曰:“言國君必慎始也。”“慎始奈何
    ?”曰:“正之”,“正之奈何?”曰:“明智,智不明,何以見正,多
    聞而擇焉,所以明智也。是故古者君始听治,大夫而一言,士而一見,庶
    人有謁必達,公族請問必語,四方至者勿距,可謂不壅蔽矣;分祿必及,
    用刑必中,君心必仁,思君之利,除民之害,可謂不失民眾矣;君身必正
    ,近臣必選,大夫不兼官,執民柄者不在一族,可謂不權勢矣。此皆春秋
    之意,而元年之本也。”
    孔子曰:行身有六本,本立焉,然后為君子立体有義矣,而孝為本;
    處喪有禮矣,而哀為本;戰陣有隊矣,而勇為本;政治有理矣,而能為本
    ;居國有禮矣,而嗣為本;生才有時矣,而力為本。置本不固,無務丰末
    ;親戚不悅,無務外交;事無終始,無務多業;聞記不言,無務多談;比
    近不說,無務修遠。是以反本修邇,君子之道也。天之所生,地之所養,
    莫貴乎人人之道,莫大乎父子之親,君臣之義;父道圣,子道仁,君道義
    ,臣道忠。賢父之于子也,慈惠以生之,教誨以成之,養其誼,藏其偽,
    時其節,慎其施;子年七歲以上,父為之擇明師,選良友,勿使見惡,少
    漸之以善,使之早化。故賢子之事親,發言陳辭,應對不悖乎耳;趣走進
    退,容貌不悖乎目;卑体賤身,不悖乎心。君子之事親以積德,子者親之
    本也,無所推而不從命,推而不從命者,惟害親者也,故親之所安子皆供
    之。賢臣之事君也,受官之日,以主為父,以國為家,以士人為兄弟;故
    苟有可以安國家,利人民者不避其難,不憚其勞,以成其義;故其君亦有
    助之以遂其德。夫君臣之与百姓,轉相為本,如循環無端,夫子亦云,人
    之行莫大于孝;孝行成于內而嘉號布于外,是謂建之于本而榮華自茂矣。
    君以臣為本,臣以君為本;父以子為本,子以父為本,棄其本,榮華槁矣
    。
    子路曰:負重道遠者,不擇地而休;家貧親老者,不擇祿而仕。昔者
    由事二親之時,常食藜藿之實而為親負米百里之外,親沒之后,南游于楚
    ,從車百乘,積粟万鐘,累茵而坐,列鼎而食,愿食藜藿負米之時不可复
    得也;枯魚銜索,几何不蠹,二親之壽,忽如過隙,草木欲長,霜露不使
    ,賢者欲養,二親不待,故曰:家貧親老不擇祿而仕也。
    伯禽与康叔封朝于成王,見周公三見而三笞,康叔有駭色,謂伯禽曰
    :“有商子者,賢人也,与子見之。”康叔封与伯禽見商子曰:“某某也
    ,日吾二子者朝乎成王,見周公三見而三笞,其說何也?”商子曰:“二
    子盍相与觀乎南山之陽有木焉,名曰橋。”二子者往觀乎南山之陽,見橋
    竦焉實而仰,反以告乎商子,商子曰:“橋者父道也。”商子曰:“二子
    盍相与觀乎南山之陰,有木焉,名曰梓。”二子者往觀乎南山之陰,見梓
    勃焉實而俯,反以告商子,商子曰:“梓者、子道也。”二子者明日見乎
    周公,入門而趨,登堂而跪,周公拂其首,勞而食之曰:“安見君子?”
    二子對曰:“見商子。”周公曰:“君子哉!商子也。”
    曾子芸瓜而誤斬其根,曾皙怒,援大杖擊之,曾子仆地;有頃蘇,蹶
    然而起,進曰:“曩者參得罪于大人,大人用力教參,得無疾乎!”退屏
    鼓琴而歌,欲令曾皙听其歌聲,令知其平也。孔子聞之,告門人曰:“參
    來勿內也!”曾子自以無罪,使人謝孔子,孔子曰:“汝聞瞽叟有子名曰
    舜,舜之事父也,索而使之,未嘗不在側,求而殺之,未嘗可得;小棰則
    待,大棰則走,以逃暴怒也。今子委身以待暴怒,立体而不去,殺身以陷
    父,不義不孝,孰是大乎?汝非天子之民邪?殺天子之民罪奚如?”以曾
    子之材,又居孔子之門,有罪不自知處義,難乎!
    伯俞有過,其母笞之泣,其母曰:“他日笞子未嘗見泣,今泣何也?
    ”對曰:“他日俞得罪笞嘗痛,今母力不能使痛,是以泣。”故曰父母怒
    之,不作于意,不見于色,深受其罪,使可哀怜,上也;父母怒之,不作
    于意,不見其色,其次也;父母怒之,作于意,見于色,下也。
    成人有德,小子有造,大學之教也;時禁于其未發之曰預,因其可之
    曰時,相觀于善之曰磨,學不陵節而施之曰馴。發然后禁,則I格而不胜
    ;時過然后學,則勤苦而難成;雜施而不遜,則坏亂而不治;獨學而無友
    ,則孤陋而寡聞。故曰有昭辟雍,有賢泮宮,田里周行,濟濟鏘鏘,而相
    從執質,有族以文。
    周召公年十九,見正而冠,冠則可以為方伯諸侯矣。人之幼稚童蒙之
    時,非求師正本,無以立身全性。夫幼者必愚,愚者妄行;愚者妄行,不
    能保身,孟子曰:人皆知以食愈飢,莫知以學愈愚,故善材之幼者必勤于
    學問以修其性。今人誠能砥礪其材,自誠其神明,睹物之應,信道之要,
    觀始卒之端,覽無外之境,逍遙乎無方之內,彷徉乎塵埃之外,卓然獨立
    ,超然絕世,此上圣之所游神也。然晚世之人,莫能閑居心思,鼓琴讀書
    ,追觀上古,友賢大夫;學問講辯日以自虞,疏遠世事分明利害,籌策得
    失,以觀禍福,設義立度,以為法式;窮追本末,究事之情,死有遺業,
    生有榮名;此皆人材之所能建也,然莫能為者,偷慢懈墮,多暇日之故也
    ,是以失本而無名。夫學者,崇名立身之本也,儀狀齊等而飾貌者好,質
    性同倫而學問者智;是故砥礪琢磨非金也,而可以利金;詩書壁立,非也
    ,而可以厲心。夫問訊之士,日夜興起,厲中益知,以分別理,是故處身
    則全,立身不殆,士苟欲深明博察,以垂榮名,而不好問訊之道,則是伐
    智本而塞智原也,何以立軀也?騏驥雖疾,不遇伯樂,不致千里;干將雖
    利,非人力不能自斷焉;烏號之弓雖良,不得排檠,不能自任;人才雖高
    ,不務學問,不能致圣。水積成川,則蛟龍生焉;土積成山,則豫樟生焉
    ;學積成圣,則富貴尊顯至焉。千金之裘,非一狐之皮;台廟之榱,非一
    木之枝;先王之法,非一士之智也。故曰:訊問者智之本,思慮者智之道
    也。中庸曰:“好問近乎智,力行近乎仁,知恥近乎勇。”積小之能大者
    ,其惟仲尼乎!學者所以反情治性盡才者也,親賢學問,所以長德也;論
    交合友,所以相致也。詩云:“如切如磋,如琢如磨”,此之謂也。
    今夫辟地殖谷,以養生送死,銳金石,雜草藥以攻疾,各知构室屋以
    避暑雨,累台榭以避潤濕,入知親其親,出知尊其君,內有男女之別,外
    有朋友之際,此圣人之德教,儒者受之傳之,以教誨于后世。今夫晚世之
    惡人,反非儒者曰:何以儒為?如此人者,是非本也,譬猶食谷衣絲,而
    非耕織者也;載于船車,服而安之,而非主匠者也;食于釜甑,須以生活
    ,而非陶冶者也;此言違于情而行蒙于心者也。如此人者,骨肉不親也,
    秀士不友也,此三代之棄民也,人君之所不赦也。故詩云:“投畀豺虎,
    豺虎不食,投畀有北,有北不受,投畀有昊。”此之謂也。
    孟子曰:人知糞其田,莫知糞其心;糞田莫過利曲得粟,糞心易行而
    得其所欲。何謂糞心?博學多聞;何謂易行?一性止淫也。
    子思曰:學所以益才也,礪所以致刃也,吾嘗幽處而深思,不若學之
    速;吾嘗而望,不若登高之博見。故順風而呼,聲不加疾而聞者眾;登丘
    而招,臂不加長而見者遠。故魚乘于水,鳥乘于風,草木乘于時。
    孔子曰:可以与人終日而不倦者,其惟學乎!其身体不足觀也,其勇
    力不足憚也,其先祖不足稱也,其族姓不足道也;然而可以聞四方而昭于
    諸侯者,其惟學乎!詩曰:“不僭不亡,率由舊章”,夫學之謂也。
    孔子曰:鯉,君子不可以不學,見人不可以不飾;不飾則無根,無根
    則失理;失理則不忠,不忠則失禮,失禮則不立。夫遠而有光者,飾也;
    近而逾明者,學也。譬之如污池,水潦注焉,菅蒲生之,從上觀之,知其
    非源也。
    公扈子曰:有國者不可以不學,春秋,生而尊者驕,生而富者傲,生
    而富貴,又無鑒而自得者鮮矣。春秋,國之鑒也,春秋之中,s君三十六
    ,亡國五十二,諸侯奔走不得保社稷者甚眾,未有不先見而后從之者也。
    晉平公問于師曠曰:“吾年七十欲學,恐已暮矣。”師曠曰:“何不
    炳燭乎?”平公曰:“安有為人臣而戲其君乎?”師曠曰:“盲臣安敢戲
    其君乎?臣聞之,少而好學,如日出之陽;壯而好學,如日中之光;老而
    好學,如炳燭之明。炳燭之明,孰与昧行乎?”平公曰:“善哉!”
    河間獻王曰:“湯稱學圣王之道者,譬如日焉;靜居獨思,譬如火焉
    。夫舍學圣王之道,若舍日之光,何乃獨思火之明也;可以見小耳,未可
    用大知,惟學問可以廣明德慧也。”
    梁丘据謂晏子曰:“吾至死不及夫子矣。”晏子曰:“嬰聞之,為者
    常成,行者常至;嬰非有异于人也,常為而不置,常行而不休者,故難及
    也。”
    宁越,中牟鄙人也,苦耕之勞,謂其友曰:“何為而可以免此苦也?
    ”友曰:“莫如學,學二十年則可以達矣。”宁越曰:“請十五歲,人將
    休,吾將不休;人將臥,吾不敢臥。”十五歲學而周威公師之。夫走者之
    速也,而過二里止;步者之遲也,而百里不止。今宁越之材而久不止,其
    為諸侯師,豈不宜哉!
    孔子謂子路曰:“汝何好?”子路曰:“好長劍。”孔子曰:“非此
    之問也,請以汝之所能,加之以學,豈可及哉!”子路曰:“學亦有益乎
    ?”孔子曰:“夫人君無諫臣則失政;士無教交,則失德;狂馬不釋其策
    ,操弓不返于檠;木受繩則直,人受諫則圣;受學重問,孰不順成;毀仁
    惡士,且近于刑。君子不可以不學。”子路曰:“南山有竹,弗揉自直,
    斬而射之,通于犀革,又何學為乎?”孔子曰:“括而羽之,鏃而砥礪之
    ,其入不益深乎?”子路拜曰:“敬受教哉!”
    子路問于孔子曰:“請釋古之學而行由之意,可乎?”孔子曰:“不
    可,昔者東夷慕諸夏之義,有女,其夫死,為之內私婿,終身不嫁,不嫁
    則不嫁矣,然非貞節之義也;蒼梧之弟,娶妻而美好,請与兄易,忠則忠
    矣,然非禮也。今子欲釋古之學而行子之意,庸知子用非為是,用是為非
    乎!不順其初,雖欲悔之,難哉!”
    丰牆磽下未必崩也,流行潦至,坏必先矣;樹本淺,根垓不深,未必
    橛也,飄風起,暴雨至,拔必先矣。君子居于是國,不崇仁義,不尊賢臣
    ,未必亡也;然一旦有非常之變,車馳人走,指而禍至,乃始干喉劍慚鎏
    於荊彩稈商炱渚戎矗膊灰嗄押靠鬃釉唬骸安慎其前,而悔其后,雖悔無及
    矣。”詩曰:“啜其泣矣,何嗟及矣”?言不先正本而成憂于末也。
    虞君問盆成子曰:“今工者久而巧,色者老而衰;今人不及壯之時,
    益積心技之術,以備將衰之色,色者必盡乎老之前,知謀無以异乎幼之時
    。可好之色,彬彬乎且盡,洋洋乎安托無能之軀哉!故有技者不累身而未
    嘗滅,而色不得以常茂。”
    齊桓公問管仲曰:“王者何貴?”曰:“貴天。”桓公仰而視天,管
    仲曰:“所謂天者,非謂蒼蒼莽莽之天也;君人者以百姓為天,百姓与之
    則安,輔之則強,非之則危,背之則亡。”詩云:“人而無良,相怨一方
    ”。民怨其上,不遂亡者,未之有也。
    河間獻王曰:“管子稱倉廩實,知禮節;衣食足,知榮辱。”夫谷者
    ,國家所以昌熾,士女所以姣好,禮義所以行,而人心所以安也。尚書五
    福以富為始,子貢問為政,孔子曰:富之,既富乃教之也,此治國之本也
    。
    文公見咎季,其廟傅于西牆,公曰:“孰處而西?”對曰:“君之老
    臣也。”公曰:“西益而宅。”對曰:“臣之忠,不如老臣之力,其牆坏
    而不筑。”公曰:“何不筑?”對曰:“一日不稼,百日不食。”公出而
    告之仆,仆首于軫曰:“呂刑云:‘一人有慶,兆民賴之。’君之明,群
    臣之福也,乃令于國曰:毋淫宮室,以妨人宅,板筑以時,無奪農功。”
    楚恭王多寵子,而世子之位不定。屈建曰:“楚必多亂。夫一兔走于
    街,万人追之;一人得之,万人不复走。分未定,則一兔走,使万人扰;
    分已定,則雖貪夫知止。今楚多寵子而嫡位無主,亂自是生矣。夫世子者
    ,國之基也,而百姓之望也;國既無基,又使百姓失望,絕其本矣。本絕
    則撓亂,猶兔走也。”恭王聞之,立康王為太子,其后猶有令尹圍,公子
    棄疾之亂也。
    晉襄公薨,嗣君少,趙宣子相,謂大夫曰:“立少君,懼多難,請立
    雍;雍長,出在秦,秦大,足以為援。”賈季曰:“不若公子樂,樂有寵
    于國,先君愛而仕之翟,翟是以為援。”穆嬴抱太子以呼于庭曰:“先君
    奚罪,其嗣亦奚罪,舍嫡嗣不立而外求君子。”出朝抱以見宣子曰:“惡
    難也,故欲立長君,長君立而少君壯,難乃至矣。”宣子患之,遂立太
    子也。
    趙簡子以襄子為后,董安于曰:“無恤不才,今以為后,何也?”簡
    子曰:“是其人能為社稷忍辱。”异日,智伯与襄子飲,而灌襄子之首,
    大夫請殺之,襄子曰:“先君之立我也,曰能為社稷忍辱,豈曰能刺人哉
    !”處十月,智伯圍襄子于晉陽,襄子疏隊而擊之,大敗智伯,漆其首以
    為酒器。

    卷四 立節

    士君子之有勇而果于行者,不以立節行誼,而以妄死非名,豈不痛哉
    !士有殺身以成仁,触害以立義,倚于節理而不議死地;故能身死名流于
    來世,非有勇斷,孰能行之?子路曰:“不能勤苦,不能恬貧窮,不能輕
    死亡;而曰我能行義,吾不信也。”昔者申包胥立于秦庭,七日七夜喪不
    絕聲,遂以存楚,不能勤苦,安能行此!曾子布衣袍未得完,糟糠之食,
    藜藿之羹未得飽,義不合則辭上卿,不恬貧窮,安能行此!比干將死而諫
    逾忠,伯夷叔齊餓死于首陽山而志逾彰,不輕死亡,安能行此!故夫士欲
    立義行道,毋論難易而后能行之;立身著名,無顧利害而后能成之。詩曰
    :“彼其之子,碩大且篤。”非良篤修激之君子,其誰能行之哉?王子比
    干殺身以作其忠,伯夷叔齊殺身以成其廉,此三子者,皆天下之通士也,
    豈不愛其身哉?以為夫義之不立,名之不著是士之恥也,故殺身以遂其行
    。因此觀之,卑賤貧窮,非士之恥也。夫士之所恥者,天下舉忠而士不与
    焉,舉信而士不与焉,舉廉而士不与焉;三者在乎身,名傳于后世,与日
    月并而不息,雖無道之世不能污焉。然則非好死而惡生也,非惡富貴而樂
    貧賤也,由其道,遵其理,尊貴及己,士不辭也。孔子曰:“富而可求,
    雖執鞭之士,吾亦為之;富而不可求,從吾所好。”大圣之操也。詩云:
    “我心匪石,不可轉也,我心匪席,不可卷也。”言不失己也;能不失己
    ,然后可与濟難矣,此士君子之所以越眾也。
    楚伐陳,陳西門燔,因使其降民修之,孔子過之,不軾,子路曰:“
    禮過三人則下車,過二人則軾;今陳修門者人數眾矣,夫子何為不軾?”
    孔子曰:“丘聞之,國亡而不知,不智;知而不爭,不忠;忠而不死,不
    廉;今陳修門者不行一于此,丘故不為軾也。”
    孔子見齊景公,景公致廩丘以為養,孔子辭不受,出謂弟子曰:“吾
    聞君子當功以受祿,今說景公,景公未之行而賜我廩丘,其不知丘亦甚矣
    !”遂辭而行。曾子衣弊衣以耕,魯君使人往致邑焉,曰:“請以此修衣
    。”曾子不受,反复往,又不受,使者曰:“先生非求于人,人則獻之,
    奚為不受?”曾子曰:“臣聞之,受人者畏人,予人者驕人;縱子有賜我
    驕也,我能勿畏乎?”終不受。孔子聞之曰:“參之言,足以全其節也。
    ”子思居于衛,?袍無表,二旬而九食,田子方聞之,使人遺狐白之裘,
    恐其不受,謂之曰:“吾假人,遂忘之;吾与人也,如棄之。”子思辭而
    不受,子方曰:“我有子無,何故不受?”子思曰:“急聞之,妄与不如
    棄物于溝壑,急雖貧也,不忍以身為溝壑,是以不敢當也。”
    宋襄公茲父為桓公太子,桓公有后妻子,曰公子目夷,公愛之,茲父
    為公愛之也。欲立之,請于公曰:“請使目夷立,臣為之相以佐之。”公
    曰:“何故也?”對曰:“臣之舅在衛,愛臣,若終立則不可以往,絕跡
    于衛,是背母也。且臣自知不足以處目夷之上。”公不許,強以請公,公
    許之,將立公子目夷,目夷辭曰:“兄立而弟在下,是其義也;今弟立而
    兄在下,不義也;不義而使目夷為之,目夷將逃。”乃逃之衛,茲父從之
    。三年,桓公有疾,使人召茲父,若不來,是使我以憂死也,茲父乃反,
    公复立之以為太子,然后目夷歸也。
    晉驪姬譖太子申生于獻公,獻公將殺之,公子重耳謂申生曰:“為此
    者非子之罪也,子不進辭,辭之必免于罪。”申生曰:“不可,我辭之,
    驪姬必有罪矣,吾君老矣,微驪姬寢不安席,食不甘味,如何使吾君以恨
    終哉!”重耳曰:“不辭則不若速去矣。”申生曰:“不可,去而免于此
    ,是惡吾君也;夫彰父之過而取美諸侯,孰肯納之?入困于宗,出困于逃
    ,是重吾惡也。吾聞之,忠不暴君,智不重惡,勇不逃死,如是者,吾以
    身當之。”遂伏劍死。君子聞之曰:“天命矣夫世子!”詩曰:“萋兮斐
    兮,成是貝錦。彼譖人者,亦已太甚!”
    晉獻公之時,有士焉,曰狐突,傅太子申生,公立驪姬為夫人,而國
    多憂,狐突稱疾不出。六年,獻公以譖誅太子,太子將死,使人謂狐突曰
    :“吾君老矣,國家多難,傅一出以輔吾君,申生受賜以死不恨。”再拜
    稽首而死。狐突乃复事獻公,三年,獻公卒,狐突辭于諸大夫曰:“突受
    太子之詔,今事終矣,与其久生亂世也,不若死而報太子。”乃歸自殺。
    楚平王使奮揚殺太子建,未至而遣之,太子奔宋,王召奮揚,使城父
    人執之以至,王曰:“言出于予口,入于爾耳,誰告建也?”對曰:臣告
    之,王初命臣曰:“事建如事余,臣不佞,不能貳也;奉初以還,故遣之
    ,已而悔之,亦無及也。”王曰:“而敢來,何也?”對曰:“使而失命
    ,召而不來,是重過也,逃無所入。”王乃赦之。
    晉靈公暴,趙宣子驟諫,靈公患之,使稦之彌賊之;稦之彌晨往,則
    寢門辟矣,宣子盛服將朝,尚早,坐而假寢,之彌退,嘆而言曰:“不忘
    恭敬,民之主也。賊民之主,不忠;棄君之命,不信。有一于此,不如死
    也。”遂触槐而死。
    齊人有子蘭子者,事白公胜,胜將為難,乃告子蘭子曰:“吾將舉大
    事于國,愿与子共之。”子蘭子曰:“我事子而与子殺君,是助子之不義
    也;畏患而去子,是遁子于難也。故不与子殺君以成吾義,契領于庭,以
    遂吾行。”
    楚有士申鳴者,在家而養其父,孝聞于楚國,王欲授之相,申鳴辭不
    受,其父曰:“王欲相汝,汝何不受乎?”申鳴對曰:“舍父之孝子而為
    王之忠臣,何也?”其父曰:“使有祿于國,立義于庭,汝樂吾無憂矣,
    吾欲汝之相也。”申鳴曰:“諾。”遂入朝,楚王因授之相。居三年,白
    公為亂,殺司馬子期,申鳴將往死之,父止之曰:“棄父而死,其可乎?
    ”申鳴曰:“聞夫仕者身歸于君而祿歸于親,今既去子事君,得無死其難
    乎?”遂辭而往,因以兵圍之。白公謂石乞曰:“申鳴者,天下之勇士也
    ,今以兵圍我,吾為之奈何?”石乞曰:“申鳴者,天下之孝子也,往劫
    其父以兵,申鳴聞之必來,因与之語。”白公曰:“善。”則往取其父,
    持之以兵,告申鳴曰:“子与吾,吾与子分楚國;子不与吾,子父則死矣
    。”申鳴流涕而應之曰:“始吾父之孝子也,今吾君之忠臣也;吾聞之也
    ,食其食者死其事,受其祿者畢其能;今吾已不得為父之孝子矣,乃君之
    忠臣也,吾何得以全身!”援桴鼓之,遂殺白公,其父亦死,王賞之金百
    斤,申鳴曰:“食君之食,避君之難,非忠臣也;定君之國,殺臣之父,
    非孝子也。名不可兩立,行不可兩全也,如是而生,何面目立于天下。”
    遂自殺也。
    齊庄公且伐莒,為車五乘之賓,而杞梁華舟獨不与焉,故歸而不食,
    其母曰:“汝生而無義,死而無名,則雖非五乘,孰不汝笑也?汝生而有
    義,死而有名,則五乘之賓盡汝下也。”趣食乃行,杞梁華舟同車侍于庄
    公而行至莒,莒人逆之,杞梁華舟下斗,獲甲首三百,庄公止之曰:“子
    止,与子同齊國。”杞梁華舟曰:“君為五乘之賓,而舟梁不与焉,是少
    吾勇也;臨敵涉難,止我以利,是污吾行也;深入多殺者,臣之事也,齊
    國之利,非吾所知也。”遂進斗,坏軍陷陣,三軍弗敢當,至莒城下,莒
    人以炭置地,二人立有間,不能入。隰侯重為右曰:“吾聞古之士,犯患
    涉難者,其去遂于物也,來,吾菖子。”隰侯重仗J伏炭,二子乘而入,
    顧而哭之,華舟后息。杞梁曰:“汝無勇乎?何哭之久也?”華舟曰:“
    吾豈無勇哉,是其勇与我同也,而先吾死,是以哀之。”莒人曰:“子毋
    死,与子同莒國。”杞梁華舟曰:“去國歸敵,非忠臣也;去長受賜,非
    正行也;且雞鳴而期,日中而忘之,非信也。深入多殺者,臣之事也,莒
    國之利非吾所知也。”遂進斗,殺二十七人而死。其妻聞之而哭,城為之
    禲A而隅為之崩。此非所以起也。
    越甲至齊,雍門子狄請死之,齊王曰:“鼓鐸之聲未聞,矢石未交,
    長兵未接,子何務死之?為人臣之禮邪?”雍門子狄對曰:“臣聞之,昔
    者王田于囿,左轂鳴、車右請死之,而王曰:‘子何為死?’車右對曰:
    ‘為其鳴吾君也。’王曰:‘左轂鳴者工師之罪也,子何事之有焉?’車
    右曰:‘臣不見工師之乘而見其鳴吾君也。’遂刎頸而死,知有之乎?”
    齊王曰:“有之。”雍門子狄曰:“今越甲至,其鳴吾君也,豈左轂之下
    哉?車右可以死左轂,而臣獨不可以死越甲也?”遂刎頸而死。是日越人
    引甲而退七十里,曰:“齊王有臣,鈞如雍門子狄,擬使越社稷不血食。
    ”遂引甲而歸,齊王葬雍門子狄以上卿之禮。
    楚人將与吳人戰,楚兵寡而吳兵眾,楚將軍子囊曰:“我擊此國必敗
    ,辱君虧地,忠臣不忍為也。”不复于君,黜兵而退,至于國郊,使人复
    于君曰:“臣請死!”君曰:“子大夫之遁也,以為利也,而今誠利,子
    大夫毋死!”子囊曰:“遁者無罪,則后世之為君臣者,皆入不利之名而
    效臣遁,若是則楚國終為天下弱矣,臣請死。”退而伏劍。君曰:“誠
    如此,請成子大夫之義。”乃為桐棺三寸,加斧質其上,以于國。
    宋康公攻阿,屠單父,成公趙曰:“始吾不自知,以為在千乘則万乘
    不敢伐,在万乘則天下不敢圖。今趙在阿而宋屠單父,則是趙無以自立也
    。且往誅宋!”趙遂入宋,三月不得見。或曰:“何不因鄰國之使而見之
    。”成公趙曰:“不可,吾因鄰國之使而刺之,則使后世之使不信,荷節
    之信不用,皆曰趙使之然也,不可!”或曰:“何不因群臣道徒處之士而
    刺之。”成公趙曰:“不可,吾因群臣道徒處之士而刺之,則后世之臣不
    見信,辯士不見顧,皆曰趙使之然也。不可!吾聞古之士怒則思理,危不
    忘義,必將正行以求之耳。”期年,宋康公病死,成公趙曰:“廉士不辱
    名,信士不惰行,今吾在阿,宋屠單父,是辱名也;事誅宋王,期年不得
    ,是惰行也。吾若是而生,何面目而見天下之士。”遂立槁于彭山之上。
    佛鵝用中牟之縣畔,設祿邑炊鼎曰:“与我者受邑,不与我者其烹。
    ”中牟之士皆与之。城北余子田基獨后至,?衣將入鼎曰:“基聞之,義
    者軒冕在前,非義弗受;斧鉞于后,義死不避。”遂?衣將入鼎,佛鵝播
    而之趙,簡子屠中牟,得而取之,論有功者,用田基為始,田基曰:“吾
    聞廉士不恥人,如此而受中牟之功,則中牟之士終身慚矣。”襁負其母,
    南徙于楚,楚王高其義待以司馬。
    齊崔杼s庄公,邢蒯理使晉而反,其仆曰:“崔杼s庄公,子將奚如
    ?”邢蒯理曰:“驅之,將入死而報君。”其仆曰:“君之無道也,四鄰
    諸侯莫不聞也,以夫子而死之不亦難乎?”邢蒯理曰:“善能言也,然亦
    晚矣,子早言我,我能諫之,諫不听我能去,今既不諫又不去;吾聞食其
    祿者死其事,吾既食亂君之祿矣,又安得治君而死之?”遂驅車入死。其
    仆曰:“人有亂君,人猶死之;我有治長,可毋死乎?”乃結轡自刎于車
    上。君子聞之曰:“邢蒯理可謂守節死義矣;死者人之所難也,仆夫之死
    也,雖未能合義,然亦有志之意矣,詩云:‘夙夜匪懈,以事一人,’邢
    生之謂也。孟子曰:‘勇士不忘喪其元,’仆夫之謂也。”
    燕昭王使樂毅伐齊,閔王亡,燕之初入齊也,聞蓋邑人王b賢,令于
    三軍曰:“環蓋三十里毋入。”以b之故,已而使人謂b曰:“齊人多高
    子之義,吾以子為將,封子万家。”
    b 固謝燕人,燕人曰:“子不听,吾引三軍而屠蓋邑。”王曰:“忠臣
    不事二君,貞女不更二夫;齊王不听吾諫,故退而耕于野。國既破亡,吾
    不能存,今又劫之以兵,為君將,是助桀為暴也,与其生而無義,固不如
    烹。”遂懸其軀于樹枝,自奮絕而死,齊亡,大夫聞之曰:“王b布衣義
    猶不背齊向燕,況在位食祿者乎?”乃相聚如莒,求諸公子,立為襄王。
    左儒友于杜伯,皆臣周宣王,宣王將殺杜伯而非其罪也,左儒爭之于
    王,九复之而王弗許也,王曰:“別君而异友,斯汝也。”左儒對曰:“
    臣聞之,君道友逆,則順君以誅友;友道君逆,則率友以違君。”王怒曰
    :“易而言則生,不易而言則死。”左儒對曰:“臣聞古之士不枉義以從
    死,不易言以求生,故臣能明君之過,以死杜伯之無罪。”王殺杜伯,左
    儒死之。
    莒穆公有臣曰朱厲附,事穆公,不見識焉,冬處于山林食杼栗,夏處
    于洲澤食菱藕。穆公以難死,朱厲附將往死之。其友曰:“子事君而不見
    識焉,今君難吾子死之,意者其不可乎!”朱厲附曰:“始我以為君不吾
    知也,今君死而我不死,是果不知我也;吾將死之,以激天下不知其臣者
    。”遂往死之。
    楚庄王獵于云夢,射科雉得之,申公子倍攻而奪之,王將殺之,大夫
    諫曰:“子倍自好也,爭王雉必有說,王姑察之。”不出三月,子倍病而
    死。之戰,楚大胜晉,歸而賞功,申公子倍之弟請賞于王曰:“人之有功
    也,賞于車下。”王曰:“奚謂也?”對曰:“臣之兄讀故記曰:射科雉
    者不出三月必死,臣之兄爭而得之,故夭死也。”王命發乎府而視之,于
    記果有焉,乃厚賞之。也;賞當則賢人勸,罰得則奸人止;賞罰不當,則
    賢人不勸,奸人不止,奸邪比周,欺上蔽主,以爭爵祿,不可不慎也。夫
    賞賜讓与者,人之所好也,君自行之;刑罰殺戮者,人之所惡也,臣請當
    之。”君曰:“善,子主其惡,寡人行其善,吾知不為諸侯笑矣。”于是
    宋君行賞賜而与子罕刑罰,國人知刑戮之威,專在子罕也,大臣親也,百
    姓附之,居期年,子罕逐其君而尊其政,故曰:無弱君無強大夫。老子曰
    :“魚不可脫于淵,國之利器,不可以借人。”此之謂也。

  • 詩品

    詩品

    Aproximadamente 1.348 palavras.

    Produced by Ni-Yen Wu

    詩品

    氣之動物,物之感人,故搖蕩性情,行諸舞詠。照燭三才,暉麗萬有,靈
    衹待之以致饗,幽微藉之以昭告,動天地,感鬼神,莫近於詩。昔〈南風
    〉之詞,〈卿雲〉之頌,厥義敻矣。夏歌曰:「鬱陶乎予心。」楚謠曰:
    「名予曰正則。」雖詩體未全,然是五言之濫觴也。逮漢李陵,始著五言
    之目矣。古詩眇邈,人世難詳,推其文體,固是炎漢之製,非衰周之倡也
    。自王、揚、枚、馬之徒,詞賦競爽,而吟詠靡聞。從李都尉迄班婕妤,
    將百年間,有婦人焉,一人而已。詩人之風,頓已缺喪。東京二百載中,
    惟有班固〈詠史〉,質木無文。降及建安,曹公父子篤好斯文,平原兄弟
    鬱為文棟,劉楨、王粲為其羽翼。次有攀龍托鳳,自致於屬車者,蓋將百
    計。彬彬之盛,大備於時矣。爾後陵遲衰微,迄於有晉。太康中,三張、
    二陸、兩潘、一左,勃爾復興,踵武前王,風流未沫,亦文章之中興也。
    永嘉時,貴黃、老,稍尚虛談。於時篇什,理過其辭,淡乎寡味。爰及江
    表,微波尚傳,孫綽、許詢、桓、庾諸公詩,皆平典似《道德論》,建安
    風力盡矣。先是郭景純用雋上之才,變創其體。劉越石仗清剛之氣,贊成
    厥美。然彼眾我寡,未能動俗。逮義熙中,謝益壽斐然繼作。元嘉中,有
    謝靈運,才高詞盛,富豔難蹤,固已含跨劉、郭,陵轢潘、左。故知陳思
    為建安之傑,公幹、仲宣為輔。陸機為太康之英,安仁、景陽為輔。謝客
    為元嘉之雄,顏延年為輔。斯皆五言之冠冕,文詞之命世也。夫四言,文
    約意廣,取效《風》、《騷》,便可多得。每苦文繁而意少,故世罕習焉
    。五言居文詞之要,是眾作之有滋味者也,故云會於流俗。豈不以指事造
    形,窮情寫物,最為詳切者耶?故詩有三義焉:一曰興,二曰比,三曰賦
    。文已盡而意有餘,興也;因物喻志,比也;直書其事,寓言寫物,賦也
    。宏斯三義,酌而用之,幹之以風力,潤之以丹彩,使味之者無極,聞之
    者動心,是詩之至也。若專用比興,患在意深,意深則詞躓。若但用賦體
    ,患在意浮,意浮則文散,嬉成流移,文無止泊,有蕪漫之累矣。若乃春
    風春鳥,秋月秋蟬,夏雲暑雨,冬月祁寒,斯四候之感諸詩者也。嘉會寄
    詩以親,離群託詩以怨。至於楚臣去境,漢妾辭宮;或骨橫朔野,或魂逐
    飛蓬;或負戈外戍,殺氣雄邊;塞客衣單,孀閨淚盡;或士有解佩出朝,
    一去忘返;女有揚蛾入寵,再盼傾國。凡斯種種,感蕩心靈,非陳詩何以
    展其義;非長歌何以騁其情?故曰:「《詩》可以群,可以怨。」使窮賤
    易安,幽居靡悶,莫尚於詩矣。故詞人作者,罔不愛好。今之士俗,斯風
    熾矣。纔能勝衣,甫就小學,必甘心而馳騖焉。於是庸音雜體,人各為容
    。至使膏腴子弟,恥文不逮,終朝點綴,分夜呻吟。獨觀謂為警策,眾睹
    終淪平鈍。次有輕薄之徒,笑曹、劉為古拙,謂鮑照羲皇上人,謝朓今古
    獨步。而師鮑照終不及「日中市朝滿」,學謝朓劣得「黃鳥度青枝」。徒
    自棄於高明,無涉於文流矣。觀王公縉紳之士,每博論之餘,何嘗不以詩
    為口實。隨其嗜欲,商搉不同,淄、澠並泛,朱紫相奪,喧議競起,準的
    無依。近彭城劉士章,俊賞之士,疾其淆亂,欲為當世詩品,口陳標榜。
    其文未遂感而作焉。昔九品論人,《七略》裁士,校以貴實,誠多未值。
    至若詩之為技,較爾可知。以類推之,殆均博弈。方今皇帝,資生知之上
    才,體沈鬱之幽思,文麗日月,賞究天人。昔在貴游,已為稱首。況八紘
    既奄風靡雲蒸,抱玉者聯肩,握珠者踵武。以瞰漢、魏而不顧,吞晉、宋
    於胸中。諒非農歌轅議,敢致流別。嶸之今錄,庶周旋於閭里,均之於談
    笑耳。

    一品之中,略以世代為先後,不以優劣為詮次。又其人既往,其文克定。
    今所寓言,不錄存者。夫屬詞比事,乃為通談。若乃經國文符,應資博古
    ,撰德駁奏。宜窮往烈。至乎吟詠情性,亦何貴於用事?「思君如流水」
    ,既是即目。「高臺多悲風」,亦惟所見。「清晨登隴首」,羌無故實。
    「明月照積雪」,詎出經史。觀古今勝語,多非補假,皆由直尋。顏延、
    謝莊,尤為繁密,於時化之。故大明、泰始中,文章殆同書抄近任昉、王
    元長等,詞不貴奇,競須新事,爾來作者,寖以成俗。遂乃句無虛語,語
    無虛字,拘攣補衲,蠹文已甚。但自然英旨,罕值其人。詞既失高,則宜
    加事義。雖謝天才,且表學問,亦一理乎!陸機 〈文賦〉通而無貶;李
    充《翰林》,疏而不切;王微《鴻寶》,密而無裁;顏延論文,精而難曉
    ;摯虞《文志》詳而博贍,頗曰知言:觀斯數家,皆就談文體,而不顯優
    劣。至於謝客集詩,逢詩輒取;張騭《文士》,逢文即書:諸英志錄,並
    義在文,曾無品第。嶸今所錄,止乎五言。雖然,網羅今古,詞文殆集。
    輕欲辨彰清濁,掎摭病利,凡百二十人。預此宗流者,便稱才子。至斯三
    品升降,差非定制,方申變裁,請寄知者爾。

    昔曹、劉殆文章之聖,陸、謝為體貳之才,銳精研思,千百年中,而不聞
    宮商之辨,四聲之論。或謂前達偶然不見,豈其然乎?嘗試言之,古曰詩
    頌,皆被之金竹,故非調五音,無以諧會。若「置酒高堂上」、「明月照
    高樓」,為韻之首。故三祖之詞,文或不工,而韻入歌唱,此重音韻之義
    也,與世之言宮商異矣。今既不被管絃,亦何取於聲律邪?齊有王元長者
    ,嘗謂余云:「宮商與二儀俱生,自古詞人不知之。唯顏憲子乃云『律呂
    音調』,而其實大謬。唯見范曄、謝莊頗識之耳。嘗欲進〈知音論〉,未
    就。」王元長創其首謝、沈約揚其波。三賢或貴公子孫,幼有文辯,於是
    士流景慕,務為精密。襞積細微,專相凌架。故使文多拘忌,傷其真美。
    余謂文製本須諷讀,不可蹇礙,但令清濁通流,口吻調利,斯為足矣。至
    平上去入,則余病未能;蜂腰、鶴膝,閭里已具。陳思贈弟,仲宣〈七哀
    〉,公幹思友,阮籍〈詠懷〉,子卿「雙鳧」,叔夜「雙鸞」,茂先寒夕
    ,平叔衣單,安仁倦暑,景陽苦雨,靈運〈鄴中〉,士衡〈擬古〉,越石
    感亂,景純詠仙,王微風月,謝客山泉,叔源離宴,鮑照戍邊,太沖〈詠
    史 〉,顏延入洛,陶公詠貧之製,惠連〈擣衣〉之作,斯皆五言之警策
    者也。所以謂篇章之珠澤,文彩之鄧林。

    詩品.卷上

    古詩
    其體源出於《 國風》。陸機所擬十四首,文溫以麗,意悲而遠,驚心動
    魄,可謂幾乎一字千金!其外「去者日以疏」四十五首,雖多哀怨,頗為
    總雜。舊疑是建安中曹、王所製。「客從遠方來」、「橘柚垂華實」,亦
    為驚絕矣!人代冥滅,而清音獨遠,悲夫!

    漢都尉李陵
    其源出於《 楚辭 》。文多悽愴,怨者之流。陵,名家子,有殊才,生命
    不諧,聲頹身喪。使陵不遭辛苦,其文亦何能至此!

    漢婕妤班姬
    其源出於李陵。〈團扇〉短章,詞旨清捷,怨深文綺,得匹婦之致。侏儒
    一節,可以知其工矣!

    魏陳思王植
    其源出於《國風》。骨氣奇高,詞采華茂,情兼雅怨,體被文質,粲溢今
    古,卓爾不群。嗟乎!陳思之於文章也,譬人倫之有周、孔,鱗羽之有龍
    鳳,音樂之有琴笙,女工之有黼黻。俾爾懷鉛吮墨者,抱篇章而景慕,映
    餘暉以自燭。故孔氏之門如用詩,則公幹升堂,思王入室,景陽、潘、陸
    ,自可坐於廊廡之間矣。
     
    魏文學劉楨
    其源出於《古詩》。仗氣愛奇,動多振絕。真骨凌霜,高風跨俗。但氣過
    其文,雕潤恨少。然自陳思已下,楨稱獨步。

    魏侍中王粲
    其源出於李陵。發愀愴之詞,文秀而質羸。在曹、劉間,別構一體。方陳
    思不足,比魏文有餘。

    晉步兵阮籍
    其源出於《小雅》。無雕蟲之功。而〈詠懷〉之作,可以陶性靈,發幽思
    。言在耳目之內,情寄八荒之表。洋洋乎會於《風》、《雅》,使人忘其
    鄙近,自致遠大,頗多感慨之詞。厥旨淵放,歸趣難求。顏延年注解,怯
    言其志。
     
    晉平原相陸機
    其源出於陳思。才高詞贍,舉體華美。氣少於公幹,文劣於仲宣。尚規矩
    ,不貴綺錯,有傷直致之奇。然其咀嚼英華,厭飫膏澤,文章之淵泉也。
    張公歎其大才,信矣!

    晉黃門郎潘岳
    其源出於仲宣。《翰林》嘆其翩翩然如翔禽之有羽毛,衣服之有綃縠,猶
    淺於陸機。謝混云:「潘詩爛若舒錦,無處不佳,陸文如披沙簡金,往往
    見寶。」嶸謂益壽輕華,故以潘為勝;《翰林》篤論,故歎陸為深。余常
    言陸才如海,潘才如江。
     
    晉黃門郎張協
    其源出於王粲。文體華淨, 少病累。又巧構形似之言,雄於潘岳,靡於
    太仲。風流調達,實曠代之高手。調采蔥菁,音韻鏗鏘,使人味之亹亹不
    倦。

    晉記室左思
    其源出於公幹。文典以怨,頗為精切,得諷諭之致。雖野於陸機,而深於
    潘岳。謝康樂嘗言:「左太沖詩,潘安仁詩,古今難比。」
     
    宋臨川太守謝靈運
    其源出於陳思 , 雜有景陽之體。故尚巧似,而逸蕩過之,頗以繁蕪為累
    。嶸謂若人興多才高,寓目輒書,內無乏思,外無遺物,其繁富宜哉!然
    名章迥句,處處間起;麗典新聲,絡繹奔會。 譬猶青松之拔灌木,白玉
    之映塵沙,未足貶其高潔也。初,錢塘杜明師夜夢東南有人來入其館,是
    夕,即靈運生於會稽。旬日,而謝玄亡。其家以子孫難得,送靈運於杜治
    養之。十五方還都,故名「客兒」。

     
    詩品.卷中

    漢上計秦嘉嘉妻徐淑
    夫妻事既可傷,文亦悽怨。為五言者,不過數家,而婦人居二。徐淑敘別
    之作,亞於〈團扇〉矣。
     
    魏文帝
    其源出於李陵,頗有仲宣之體。則所計百許篇,率皆鄙質如偶語。惟「西
    北有浮雲」十餘首,殊美贍可玩,始見其工矣。不然,何以銓衡群彥,對
    揚厥弟者邪?

    晉中散嵇康
    頗似魏文。過為峻切,訐直露才,傷淵雅之致。然託喻清遠,良有鑒裁,
    亦未失高流矣。
     
    晉司空張華
    其源出於王粲。其體華艷,興託不奇,巧用文字,務為妍冶。雖名高曩代
    ,而疏亮之士,猶恨其兒女情多,風雲氣少。謝康樂云:「張公雖復千篇
    ,猶一體耳。」今置之中品疑弱,處之下科恨少,在季、孟之間矣。

    魏尚書何晏晉馮翊守孫楚 晉著作王讚 晉司徒掾張翰 晉中書令潘尼
    平叔鴻鵠之篇,風規見矣。子荊零雨之外,正長朔風之後,雖有累札,良
    亦無聞。季鷹黃華之唱,正叔綠之章,雖不具美,而文彩高麗,並得虯龍
    片甲,鳳凰一毛。事同駁聖,宜居中品。

    魏侍中應璩
    祖襲魏文。善為古語,指事殷勤,雅意深篤,得詩人激刺之旨。至於「濟
    濟今日所」,華靡可諷味焉。
     
    晉清河守陸雲晉侍中石崇 晉襄城太守曹攄 晉朗陵公何劭
    清河之方平原,殆如陳思之匹白馬。於其哲昆,故稱二陸。季倫、顏遠,
    並有英篇。篤而論之,朗陵為最。
     
    晉太尉劉琨晉中郎盧諶
    其源出於王粲。善為悽戾之詞,自有清拔之氣。琨既體良才,又罹厄運,
    故善敘喪亂,多感恨之詞。中郎仰之,微不逮者矣。
     
    晉弘農太守郭璞
    憲章潘岳,文體相輝,彪炳可玩。始變永嘉平淡之體,故稱中興第一。《
    翰林》以為詩首。但〈遊仙〉之作,詞多慷慨,乖遠玄宗。而云:「柰何
    虎豹姿。」又云:「戢翼棲榛梗。」乃是坎壈詠懷,非列仙之趣也。
     
    晉吏部郎袁宏
    彥伯〈詠史〉,雖文體未遒,而鮮明緊健,去凡俗遠矣。

    晉處士郭泰機晉常侍顧愷之 宋謝世基 宋參軍顧邁 宋參軍戴凱
    泰機寒女之製,孤怨宜恨。長康能以二韻答四首之美。世基橫海,顧邁鴻
    飛。戴凱人實貧羸,而才章富健。觀此五子,文雖不多,氣調警拔,吾許
    其進,則鮑照、江淹未足逮止。越居中品,僉曰宜哉。

    宋徵士陶潛
    其源出於應璩,又協左思風力。文體省淨,殆無長語。篤意真古,辭興婉
    愜。每觀其文,想其人德。世歎其質直。至如「懽言醉春酒」、「日暮天
    無雲」,風華清靡,豈直為田家語邪?古今隱逸詩人之宗也。
     
    宋光祿大夫顏延之
    其源出於陸機。尚巧似。體裁綺密,情喻淵深,動無虛散,一句一字,皆
    致意焉。又喜用古事,彌見拘束,雖乖秀逸,是經綸文雅才。雅才減若人
    ,則蹈於困躓矣。湯惠休曰:「 謝詩如芙蓉出水,顏如錯彩鏤金。」顏
    終身病之。
     
    宋豫章太守謝瞻宋僕射謝混 宋太尉袁淑 宋徵君王微 宋征虜將軍王僧達
    其源出於張華。才力苦弱,故務其清淺,殊得風流媚趣。課其實錄,則豫
    章僕射,宜分庭抗禮。徵君、太尉,可託乘後車。征虜卓卓,殆欲度驊騮
    前。
     
    宋法曹參軍謝惠連
    小謝才思富捷,恨其蘭玉夙凋,故長轡未騁。〈秋懷〉、〈擣衣〉之作,
    雖復靈運銳思,亦何以加焉。又工為綺麗歌謠,風人第一。《謝氏家錄
    》云:「康樂每對惠連,輒得佳語。後在永嘉西堂,思詩竟日不就。寤寐
    間忽見惠連,即成『池塘生春草』。故嘗云:『此語有神助,非吾語也。
    』」
     
    宋參軍鮑照
    其源出於二張,善製形狀寫物之詞,得景陽之諔詭,含茂先之靡嫚。骨節
    強於謝混,驅邁疾於顏延。總四家而擅美,跨兩代而孤出。嗟其才秀人微
    ,故取湮當代。然貴尚巧似,不避危仄,頗傷清雅之調。故言險俗者,多
    以附照。
     
    齊吏部謝朓
    其源出於謝混,微傷細密,頗在不倫。一章之中,自有玉石,然奇章秀句
    ,往往警遒,足使叔源失步,明遠變色。善自發詩端,而末篇多躓,此意
    銳而才弱也,至為後進士子之所嗟慕。朓極與余論詩,感激頓挫過其文。
     
    齊光祿江淹
    文通詩體總雜,善於摹擬,筋力於王微,成就於謝朓。初,淹罷宣城郡,
    遂宿冶亭,夢一美丈夫,自稱郭璞,謂淹曰:「我有筆在卿處多年矣,可
    以見還。」淹探懷中,得五色筆以授之。爾後為詩,不復成語,故世傳江
    淹才盡。
     
    梁衛將軍范雲梁中書郎邱遲
    范詩清便宛轉,如流風迴雪。邱詩點綴映媚,似落花依草。故當淺於江淹
    ,而秀於任昉。
     
    梁太常任昉
    彥昇少年為詩不工,故世稱沈詩任筆,昉深恨之。晚節愛好既篤,文亦遒
    變。善銓事理,拓體淵雅,得國士之風,故擢居中品。但昉既博物,動輒
    用事,所以詩不得奇。少年士子,效其如此,弊矣。
     
    梁左光祿沈約
    觀休文眾製,五言最優。詳其文體,察其餘論,固知憲章鮑明遠也。所以
    不閑於經綸,而長於清怨。永明相王愛文,王元長等皆宗附之。約於時謝
    朓未遒,江淹才盡,范雲名級故微,故約稱獨步。雖文不至其工麗,亦一
    時之選也。見重閭里,誦詠成音。嶸謂約所著既多,今翦除淫雜,收其精
    要,允為中品之第矣。故當詞密於范,意淺於江也。
     

    詩品.卷下

    漢令史班固漢孝廉酈炎 漢上計趙壹
    孟堅才流,而老於掌故。觀其〈詠史〉,有感歎之詞。文勝託詠靈芝,懷
    寄不淺。元叔散憤蘭蕙,指斥囊錢。苦言切句,良亦勤矣。斯人也,而有
    斯困,悲夫!

    魏武帝魏明帝
    曹公古直,甚有悲涼之句。叡不如丕,亦稱三祖。
     
    魏白馬王彪魏文學徐幹
    白馬與陳思答贈,偉長與公幹往復,雖曰「以莛叩鐘」,亦能閑雅矣。
     
    魏倉曹屬阮瑀晉頓邱太守歐陽建 晉文學應璩 晉中書令嵇含 晉河南太守
    阮侃 晉侍中    嵇紹晉黃門棗據
    元瑜、堅石七君詩,並平典,不失古體。大檢似,而二嵇微優矣。

    晉中書張載晉司隸傅玄 晉太僕傅咸 晉侍中繆襲 晉散騎常侍夏侯湛
    孟陽詩, 乃遠慚厥弟,而近超兩傅。 長、虞父子,繁富可嘉。孝沖雖曰
    後進,見重安仁。 熙伯〈挽歌〉,唯以造哀爾。
     
    晉驃騎王濟晉征南將軍杜預 晉廷尉孫綽 晉徵士許詢
    永嘉以來,清虛在俗。王武子輩詩,貴道家之言。爰洎江表,玄風尚備。
    真長、仲祖、桓、庾諸公猶相襲。世稱孫、許,彌善恬淡之詞。
     
    晉徵士戴逵晉東陽太守殷仲文
    安道詩雖嫩弱,有清上之句,裁長補短,袁彥伯之亞乎?逵子顒,亦有一
    時之譽。晉、宋之際,殆無詩乎!義熙中,以謝益壽、殷仲文為華綺之冠
    ,殷不競矣。
     
    宋尚書令傅亮
    季友文,余常忽而不察。今沈特進撰詩,載其數首,亦復平美。
     
    宋記室何長瑜羊曜璠 宋詹事范曄
    才難,信矣!以康樂與羊、何若此,而□令辭,殆不足奇。乃不稱其才,
    亦為鮮舉矣。
     
    宋孝武帝宋南平王鑠 宋建平王宏
    孝武詩,雕文織綵,過為精密,為二藩希慕,見稱輕巧矣。
     
    宋光祿謝莊
    希逸詩,氣候清雅,不逮於范、袁。然興屬閒長,良無鄙促也。

    宋御史蘇寶生宋中書令史陵修之 宋典祠令任曇緒 宋越騎戴興
    蘇、陵、任、戴,並著篇章,亦為搢紳之所嗟詠。人非文才是愈,甚可嘉
    焉。

    宋監典事區惠恭
    惠恭本胡人 , 為顏師伯幹。顏為詩筆,輒偷定之。後造〈獨樂賦〉,語
    侵給主,被斥。及大將軍修北第,差充作長。時謝惠連兼記室參軍,惠恭
    時往共安陵嘲調。末作〈雙枕詩〉以示謝。謝曰:「君誠能,恐人未重。
    且可以為謝法曹造。」遺大將軍。見之賞歎,以錦二端賜謝。謝辭曰:「
    此詩,公作長所製,請以錦賜之。」
     
    齊惠休上人齊道猷上人 齊釋寶月
    惠休淫靡,情過其才。世遂匹之鮑照,恐商、周矣。羊曜璠云 : 「 是
    顏公忌照之文,故立休、鮑之論。」庾、帛二胡,亦有清句。〈行路難〉
    是東陽柴廓所造。寶月嘗憩其家,會廓亡,因竊而有之。廓子賚手本出都
    ,欲訟此事,乃厚賂止之。
     
    齊高帝齊征北將軍張永 齊太尉王文憲
    齊高帝詩,詞藻意深,無所云少。張景雲雖謝文體,頗有古意。至如王師
    文憲,既經國圖遠,或忽是雕蟲。

    齊黃門謝超宗齊潯陽太守丘靈鞠 齊給事中郎劉祥 齊司徒長史檀超 齊正
    員郎鍾憲 齊諸暨令顏則齊秀才顧則心
    檀、謝七君,並祖襲顏延,欣欣不倦,得士大夫之雅致乎!余從祖正員嘗
    云:「大明、泰始中,鮑、休美文,殊已動俗,惟此諸人,傅顏、陸體。
    用固執不移,顏諸暨最荷家聲。」

    齊參軍毛伯成齊朝請吳邁遠 齊朝請許瑤之
    伯成文不全佳,亦多惆悵。吳善於風人答贈。許長於短句詠物。湯休謂遠
    云:「我詩可為汝詩父。」以訪謝光祿,云:「不然爾,湯可為庶兄。」
     
    齊鮑令暉齊韓蘭英
    令暉歌詩,往往斷絕清巧,擬古尤勝,唯百願淫矣。照嘗答孝武云:「臣
    妹才自亞於左芬,臣才不及太沖爾。」蘭英綺密,甚有名篇。又善談笑,
    齊武謂韓云:「借使二媛生於上葉,則玉階之賦,紈素之辭,未詎多也。
    」

    齊司徒長史張融齊詹事孔稚珪
    思光紆緩誕放,縱有乖文體,然亦捷疾豐饒,差不局促。德璋生於封谿,
    而文為雕飾,青於藍矣。
     
    齊寧朔將軍王融齊中庶子劉繪
    元長、士章,並有盛才。詞美英淨,至於五言之作,幾乎尺有所短。譬應
    變將略,非武侯所長,未足以貶臥龍。
     
    齊僕射江祏
    詩猗猗清潤,弟祀明靡可懷。
     
    齊記室王巾齊綏遠太守卞彬 齊端溪令卞錄
    王巾、二卞詩,並愛奇嶄絕。慕袁彥伯之風。雖不宏綽,而文體勦淨,去
    平美遠矣。
     
    齊諸暨令袁嘏
    嘏詩平平耳,多自謂能。嘗語徐太尉云:「我詩有生氣,須人捉著。不爾
    ,便飛去。」
     
    齊雍州刺史張欣泰梁中書郎范縝
    欣泰、子真,並希古勝文,鄙薄俗製,賞心流亮,不失雅宗。
     
    梁秀才陸厥
    觀厥文緯,具識丈夫之情狀。自製未優,非言之失也。
     
    梁常侍虞羲梁建陽令江洪
    子陽詩奇句清拔,謝朓常嗟頌之。洪雖無多,亦能自迥出。
     
    梁步兵鮑行卿梁晉陵令孫察

    Jim Blog https://blog.mabo.cc Jim — Accessible Converter - Em vez de obrigar os usuários a baixar arquivos, ele torna o conteúdo navegável na web. Tue, 13 Oct 2026 23:14:04 +0000 pt-BR hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1.3 https://blog.mabo.cc/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/cropped-logo-32x32.png Jim Blog https://blog.mabo.cc 32 32 257901688 詩品 https://blog.mabo.cc/%e8%a9%a9%e5%93%81/ https://blog.mabo.cc/%e8%a9%a9%e5%93%81/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 23:14:04 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/%e8%a9%a9%e5%93%81/

    詩品

    Aproximadamente 1.348 palavras.

    Produced by Ni-Yen Wu

    詩品

    氣之動物,物之感人,故搖蕩性情,行諸舞詠。照燭三才,暉麗萬有,靈
    衹待之以致饗,幽微藉之以昭告,動天地,感鬼神,莫近於詩。昔〈南風
    〉之詞,〈卿雲〉之頌,厥義敻矣。夏歌曰:「鬱陶乎予心。」楚謠曰:
    「名予曰正則。」雖詩體未全,然是五言之濫觴也。逮漢李陵,始著五言
    之目矣。古詩眇邈,人世難詳,推其文體,固是炎漢之製,非衰周之倡也
    。自王、揚、枚、馬之徒,詞賦競爽,而吟詠靡聞。從李都尉迄班婕妤,
    將百年間,有婦人焉,一人而已。詩人之風,頓已缺喪。東京二百載中,
    惟有班固〈詠史〉,質木無文。降及建安,曹公父子篤好斯文,平原兄弟
    鬱為文棟,劉楨、王粲為其羽翼。次有攀龍托鳳,自致於屬車者,蓋將百
    計。彬彬之盛,大備於時矣。爾後陵遲衰微,迄於有晉。太康中,三張、
    二陸、兩潘、一左,勃爾復興,踵武前王,風流未沫,亦文章之中興也。
    永嘉時,貴黃、老,稍尚虛談。於時篇什,理過其辭,淡乎寡味。爰及江
    表,微波尚傳,孫綽、許詢、桓、庾諸公詩,皆平典似《道德論》,建安
    風力盡矣。先是郭景純用雋上之才,變創其體。劉越石仗清剛之氣,贊成
    厥美。然彼眾我寡,未能動俗。逮義熙中,謝益壽斐然繼作。元嘉中,有
    謝靈運,才高詞盛,富豔難蹤,固已含跨劉、郭,陵轢潘、左。故知陳思
    為建安之傑,公幹、仲宣為輔。陸機為太康之英,安仁、景陽為輔。謝客
    為元嘉之雄,顏延年為輔。斯皆五言之冠冕,文詞之命世也。夫四言,文
    約意廣,取效《風》、《騷》,便可多得。每苦文繁而意少,故世罕習焉
    。五言居文詞之要,是眾作之有滋味者也,故云會於流俗。豈不以指事造
    形,窮情寫物,最為詳切者耶?故詩有三義焉:一曰興,二曰比,三曰賦
    。文已盡而意有餘,興也;因物喻志,比也;直書其事,寓言寫物,賦也
    。宏斯三義,酌而用之,幹之以風力,潤之以丹彩,使味之者無極,聞之
    者動心,是詩之至也。若專用比興,患在意深,意深則詞躓。若但用賦體
    ,患在意浮,意浮則文散,嬉成流移,文無止泊,有蕪漫之累矣。若乃春
    風春鳥,秋月秋蟬,夏雲暑雨,冬月祁寒,斯四候之感諸詩者也。嘉會寄
    詩以親,離群託詩以怨。至於楚臣去境,漢妾辭宮;或骨橫朔野,或魂逐
    飛蓬;或負戈外戍,殺氣雄邊;塞客衣單,孀閨淚盡;或士有解佩出朝,
    一去忘返;女有揚蛾入寵,再盼傾國。凡斯種種,感蕩心靈,非陳詩何以
    展其義;非長歌何以騁其情?故曰:「《詩》可以群,可以怨。」使窮賤
    易安,幽居靡悶,莫尚於詩矣。故詞人作者,罔不愛好。今之士俗,斯風
    熾矣。纔能勝衣,甫就小學,必甘心而馳騖焉。於是庸音雜體,人各為容
    。至使膏腴子弟,恥文不逮,終朝點綴,分夜呻吟。獨觀謂為警策,眾睹
    終淪平鈍。次有輕薄之徒,笑曹、劉為古拙,謂鮑照羲皇上人,謝朓今古
    獨步。而師鮑照終不及「日中市朝滿」,學謝朓劣得「黃鳥度青枝」。徒
    自棄於高明,無涉於文流矣。觀王公縉紳之士,每博論之餘,何嘗不以詩
    為口實。隨其嗜欲,商搉不同,淄、澠並泛,朱紫相奪,喧議競起,準的
    無依。近彭城劉士章,俊賞之士,疾其淆亂,欲為當世詩品,口陳標榜。
    其文未遂感而作焉。昔九品論人,《七略》裁士,校以貴實,誠多未值。
    至若詩之為技,較爾可知。以類推之,殆均博弈。方今皇帝,資生知之上
    才,體沈鬱之幽思,文麗日月,賞究天人。昔在貴游,已為稱首。況八紘
    既奄風靡雲蒸,抱玉者聯肩,握珠者踵武。以瞰漢、魏而不顧,吞晉、宋
    於胸中。諒非農歌轅議,敢致流別。嶸之今錄,庶周旋於閭里,均之於談
    笑耳。

    一品之中,略以世代為先後,不以優劣為詮次。又其人既往,其文克定。
    今所寓言,不錄存者。夫屬詞比事,乃為通談。若乃經國文符,應資博古
    ,撰德駁奏。宜窮往烈。至乎吟詠情性,亦何貴於用事?「思君如流水」
    ,既是即目。「高臺多悲風」,亦惟所見。「清晨登隴首」,羌無故實。
    「明月照積雪」,詎出經史。觀古今勝語,多非補假,皆由直尋。顏延、
    謝莊,尤為繁密,於時化之。故大明、泰始中,文章殆同書抄近任昉、王
    元長等,詞不貴奇,競須新事,爾來作者,寖以成俗。遂乃句無虛語,語
    無虛字,拘攣補衲,蠹文已甚。但自然英旨,罕值其人。詞既失高,則宜
    加事義。雖謝天才,且表學問,亦一理乎!陸機 〈文賦〉通而無貶;李
    充《翰林》,疏而不切;王微《鴻寶》,密而無裁;顏延論文,精而難曉
    ;摯虞《文志》詳而博贍,頗曰知言:觀斯數家,皆就談文體,而不顯優
    劣。至於謝客集詩,逢詩輒取;張騭《文士》,逢文即書:諸英志錄,並
    義在文,曾無品第。嶸今所錄,止乎五言。雖然,網羅今古,詞文殆集。
    輕欲辨彰清濁,掎摭病利,凡百二十人。預此宗流者,便稱才子。至斯三
    品升降,差非定制,方申變裁,請寄知者爾。

    昔曹、劉殆文章之聖,陸、謝為體貳之才,銳精研思,千百年中,而不聞
    宮商之辨,四聲之論。或謂前達偶然不見,豈其然乎?嘗試言之,古曰詩
    頌,皆被之金竹,故非調五音,無以諧會。若「置酒高堂上」、「明月照
    高樓」,為韻之首。故三祖之詞,文或不工,而韻入歌唱,此重音韻之義
    也,與世之言宮商異矣。今既不被管絃,亦何取於聲律邪?齊有王元長者
    ,嘗謂余云:「宮商與二儀俱生,自古詞人不知之。唯顏憲子乃云『律呂
    音調』,而其實大謬。唯見范曄、謝莊頗識之耳。嘗欲進〈知音論〉,未
    就。」王元長創其首謝、沈約揚其波。三賢或貴公子孫,幼有文辯,於是
    士流景慕,務為精密。襞積細微,專相凌架。故使文多拘忌,傷其真美。
    余謂文製本須諷讀,不可蹇礙,但令清濁通流,口吻調利,斯為足矣。至
    平上去入,則余病未能;蜂腰、鶴膝,閭里已具。陳思贈弟,仲宣〈七哀
    〉,公幹思友,阮籍〈詠懷〉,子卿「雙鳧」,叔夜「雙鸞」,茂先寒夕
    ,平叔衣單,安仁倦暑,景陽苦雨,靈運〈鄴中〉,士衡〈擬古〉,越石
    感亂,景純詠仙,王微風月,謝客山泉,叔源離宴,鮑照戍邊,太沖〈詠
    史 〉,顏延入洛,陶公詠貧之製,惠連〈擣衣〉之作,斯皆五言之警策
    者也。所以謂篇章之珠澤,文彩之鄧林。

    詩品.卷上

    古詩
    其體源出於《 國風》。陸機所擬十四首,文溫以麗,意悲而遠,驚心動
    魄,可謂幾乎一字千金!其外「去者日以疏」四十五首,雖多哀怨,頗為
    總雜。舊疑是建安中曹、王所製。「客從遠方來」、「橘柚垂華實」,亦
    為驚絕矣!人代冥滅,而清音獨遠,悲夫!

    漢都尉李陵
    其源出於《 楚辭 》。文多悽愴,怨者之流。陵,名家子,有殊才,生命
    不諧,聲頹身喪。使陵不遭辛苦,其文亦何能至此!

    漢婕妤班姬
    其源出於李陵。〈團扇〉短章,詞旨清捷,怨深文綺,得匹婦之致。侏儒
    一節,可以知其工矣!

    魏陳思王植
    其源出於《國風》。骨氣奇高,詞采華茂,情兼雅怨,體被文質,粲溢今
    古,卓爾不群。嗟乎!陳思之於文章也,譬人倫之有周、孔,鱗羽之有龍
    鳳,音樂之有琴笙,女工之有黼黻。俾爾懷鉛吮墨者,抱篇章而景慕,映
    餘暉以自燭。故孔氏之門如用詩,則公幹升堂,思王入室,景陽、潘、陸
    ,自可坐於廊廡之間矣。
     
    魏文學劉楨
    其源出於《古詩》。仗氣愛奇,動多振絕。真骨凌霜,高風跨俗。但氣過
    其文,雕潤恨少。然自陳思已下,楨稱獨步。

    魏侍中王粲
    其源出於李陵。發愀愴之詞,文秀而質羸。在曹、劉間,別構一體。方陳
    思不足,比魏文有餘。

    晉步兵阮籍
    其源出於《小雅》。無雕蟲之功。而〈詠懷〉之作,可以陶性靈,發幽思
    。言在耳目之內,情寄八荒之表。洋洋乎會於《風》、《雅》,使人忘其
    鄙近,自致遠大,頗多感慨之詞。厥旨淵放,歸趣難求。顏延年注解,怯
    言其志。
     
    晉平原相陸機
    其源出於陳思。才高詞贍,舉體華美。氣少於公幹,文劣於仲宣。尚規矩
    ,不貴綺錯,有傷直致之奇。然其咀嚼英華,厭飫膏澤,文章之淵泉也。
    張公歎其大才,信矣!

    晉黃門郎潘岳
    其源出於仲宣。《翰林》嘆其翩翩然如翔禽之有羽毛,衣服之有綃縠,猶
    淺於陸機。謝混云:「潘詩爛若舒錦,無處不佳,陸文如披沙簡金,往往
    見寶。」嶸謂益壽輕華,故以潘為勝;《翰林》篤論,故歎陸為深。余常
    言陸才如海,潘才如江。
     
    晉黃門郎張協
    其源出於王粲。文體華淨, 少病累。又巧構形似之言,雄於潘岳,靡於
    太仲。風流調達,實曠代之高手。調采蔥菁,音韻鏗鏘,使人味之亹亹不
    倦。

    晉記室左思
    其源出於公幹。文典以怨,頗為精切,得諷諭之致。雖野於陸機,而深於
    潘岳。謝康樂嘗言:「左太沖詩,潘安仁詩,古今難比。」
     
    宋臨川太守謝靈運
    其源出於陳思 , 雜有景陽之體。故尚巧似,而逸蕩過之,頗以繁蕪為累
    。嶸謂若人興多才高,寓目輒書,內無乏思,外無遺物,其繁富宜哉!然
    名章迥句,處處間起;麗典新聲,絡繹奔會。 譬猶青松之拔灌木,白玉
    之映塵沙,未足貶其高潔也。初,錢塘杜明師夜夢東南有人來入其館,是
    夕,即靈運生於會稽。旬日,而謝玄亡。其家以子孫難得,送靈運於杜治
    養之。十五方還都,故名「客兒」。

     
    詩品.卷中

    漢上計秦嘉嘉妻徐淑
    夫妻事既可傷,文亦悽怨。為五言者,不過數家,而婦人居二。徐淑敘別
    之作,亞於〈團扇〉矣。
     
    魏文帝
    其源出於李陵,頗有仲宣之體。則所計百許篇,率皆鄙質如偶語。惟「西
    北有浮雲」十餘首,殊美贍可玩,始見其工矣。不然,何以銓衡群彥,對
    揚厥弟者邪?

    晉中散嵇康
    頗似魏文。過為峻切,訐直露才,傷淵雅之致。然託喻清遠,良有鑒裁,
    亦未失高流矣。
     
    晉司空張華
    其源出於王粲。其體華艷,興託不奇,巧用文字,務為妍冶。雖名高曩代
    ,而疏亮之士,猶恨其兒女情多,風雲氣少。謝康樂云:「張公雖復千篇
    ,猶一體耳。」今置之中品疑弱,處之下科恨少,在季、孟之間矣。

    魏尚書何晏晉馮翊守孫楚 晉著作王讚 晉司徒掾張翰 晉中書令潘尼
    平叔鴻鵠之篇,風規見矣。子荊零雨之外,正長朔風之後,雖有累札,良
    亦無聞。季鷹黃華之唱,正叔綠之章,雖不具美,而文彩高麗,並得虯龍
    片甲,鳳凰一毛。事同駁聖,宜居中品。

    魏侍中應璩
    祖襲魏文。善為古語,指事殷勤,雅意深篤,得詩人激刺之旨。至於「濟
    濟今日所」,華靡可諷味焉。
     
    晉清河守陸雲晉侍中石崇 晉襄城太守曹攄 晉朗陵公何劭
    清河之方平原,殆如陳思之匹白馬。於其哲昆,故稱二陸。季倫、顏遠,
    並有英篇。篤而論之,朗陵為最。
     
    晉太尉劉琨晉中郎盧諶
    其源出於王粲。善為悽戾之詞,自有清拔之氣。琨既體良才,又罹厄運,
    故善敘喪亂,多感恨之詞。中郎仰之,微不逮者矣。
     
    晉弘農太守郭璞
    憲章潘岳,文體相輝,彪炳可玩。始變永嘉平淡之體,故稱中興第一。《
    翰林》以為詩首。但〈遊仙〉之作,詞多慷慨,乖遠玄宗。而云:「柰何
    虎豹姿。」又云:「戢翼棲榛梗。」乃是坎壈詠懷,非列仙之趣也。
     
    晉吏部郎袁宏
    彥伯〈詠史〉,雖文體未遒,而鮮明緊健,去凡俗遠矣。

    晉處士郭泰機晉常侍顧愷之 宋謝世基 宋參軍顧邁 宋參軍戴凱
    泰機寒女之製,孤怨宜恨。長康能以二韻答四首之美。世基橫海,顧邁鴻
    飛。戴凱人實貧羸,而才章富健。觀此五子,文雖不多,氣調警拔,吾許
    其進,則鮑照、江淹未足逮止。越居中品,僉曰宜哉。

    宋徵士陶潛
    其源出於應璩,又協左思風力。文體省淨,殆無長語。篤意真古,辭興婉
    愜。每觀其文,想其人德。世歎其質直。至如「懽言醉春酒」、「日暮天
    無雲」,風華清靡,豈直為田家語邪?古今隱逸詩人之宗也。
     
    宋光祿大夫顏延之
    其源出於陸機。尚巧似。體裁綺密,情喻淵深,動無虛散,一句一字,皆
    致意焉。又喜用古事,彌見拘束,雖乖秀逸,是經綸文雅才。雅才減若人
    ,則蹈於困躓矣。湯惠休曰:「 謝詩如芙蓉出水,顏如錯彩鏤金。」顏
    終身病之。
     
    宋豫章太守謝瞻宋僕射謝混 宋太尉袁淑 宋徵君王微 宋征虜將軍王僧達
    其源出於張華。才力苦弱,故務其清淺,殊得風流媚趣。課其實錄,則豫
    章僕射,宜分庭抗禮。徵君、太尉,可託乘後車。征虜卓卓,殆欲度驊騮
    前。
     
    宋法曹參軍謝惠連
    小謝才思富捷,恨其蘭玉夙凋,故長轡未騁。〈秋懷〉、〈擣衣〉之作,
    雖復靈運銳思,亦何以加焉。又工為綺麗歌謠,風人第一。《謝氏家錄
    》云:「康樂每對惠連,輒得佳語。後在永嘉西堂,思詩竟日不就。寤寐
    間忽見惠連,即成『池塘生春草』。故嘗云:『此語有神助,非吾語也。
    』」
     
    宋參軍鮑照
    其源出於二張,善製形狀寫物之詞,得景陽之諔詭,含茂先之靡嫚。骨節
    強於謝混,驅邁疾於顏延。總四家而擅美,跨兩代而孤出。嗟其才秀人微
    ,故取湮當代。然貴尚巧似,不避危仄,頗傷清雅之調。故言險俗者,多
    以附照。
     
    齊吏部謝朓
    其源出於謝混,微傷細密,頗在不倫。一章之中,自有玉石,然奇章秀句
    ,往往警遒,足使叔源失步,明遠變色。善自發詩端,而末篇多躓,此意
    銳而才弱也,至為後進士子之所嗟慕。朓極與余論詩,感激頓挫過其文。
     
    齊光祿江淹
    文通詩體總雜,善於摹擬,筋力於王微,成就於謝朓。初,淹罷宣城郡,
    遂宿冶亭,夢一美丈夫,自稱郭璞,謂淹曰:「我有筆在卿處多年矣,可
    以見還。」淹探懷中,得五色筆以授之。爾後為詩,不復成語,故世傳江
    淹才盡。
     
    梁衛將軍范雲梁中書郎邱遲
    范詩清便宛轉,如流風迴雪。邱詩點綴映媚,似落花依草。故當淺於江淹
    ,而秀於任昉。
     
    梁太常任昉
    彥昇少年為詩不工,故世稱沈詩任筆,昉深恨之。晚節愛好既篤,文亦遒
    變。善銓事理,拓體淵雅,得國士之風,故擢居中品。但昉既博物,動輒
    用事,所以詩不得奇。少年士子,效其如此,弊矣。
     
    梁左光祿沈約
    觀休文眾製,五言最優。詳其文體,察其餘論,固知憲章鮑明遠也。所以
    不閑於經綸,而長於清怨。永明相王愛文,王元長等皆宗附之。約於時謝
    朓未遒,江淹才盡,范雲名級故微,故約稱獨步。雖文不至其工麗,亦一
    時之選也。見重閭里,誦詠成音。嶸謂約所著既多,今翦除淫雜,收其精
    要,允為中品之第矣。故當詞密於范,意淺於江也。
     

    詩品.卷下

    漢令史班固漢孝廉酈炎 漢上計趙壹
    孟堅才流,而老於掌故。觀其〈詠史〉,有感歎之詞。文勝託詠靈芝,懷
    寄不淺。元叔散憤蘭蕙,指斥囊錢。苦言切句,良亦勤矣。斯人也,而有
    斯困,悲夫!

    魏武帝魏明帝
    曹公古直,甚有悲涼之句。叡不如丕,亦稱三祖。
     
    魏白馬王彪魏文學徐幹
    白馬與陳思答贈,偉長與公幹往復,雖曰「以莛叩鐘」,亦能閑雅矣。
     
    魏倉曹屬阮瑀晉頓邱太守歐陽建 晉文學應璩 晉中書令嵇含 晉河南太守
    阮侃 晉侍中    嵇紹晉黃門棗據
    元瑜、堅石七君詩,並平典,不失古體。大檢似,而二嵇微優矣。

    晉中書張載晉司隸傅玄 晉太僕傅咸 晉侍中繆襲 晉散騎常侍夏侯湛
    孟陽詩, 乃遠慚厥弟,而近超兩傅。 長、虞父子,繁富可嘉。孝沖雖曰
    後進,見重安仁。 熙伯〈挽歌〉,唯以造哀爾。
     
    晉驃騎王濟晉征南將軍杜預 晉廷尉孫綽 晉徵士許詢
    永嘉以來,清虛在俗。王武子輩詩,貴道家之言。爰洎江表,玄風尚備。
    真長、仲祖、桓、庾諸公猶相襲。世稱孫、許,彌善恬淡之詞。
     
    晉徵士戴逵晉東陽太守殷仲文
    安道詩雖嫩弱,有清上之句,裁長補短,袁彥伯之亞乎?逵子顒,亦有一
    時之譽。晉、宋之際,殆無詩乎!義熙中,以謝益壽、殷仲文為華綺之冠
    ,殷不競矣。
     
    宋尚書令傅亮
    季友文,余常忽而不察。今沈特進撰詩,載其數首,亦復平美。
     
    宋記室何長瑜羊曜璠 宋詹事范曄
    才難,信矣!以康樂與羊、何若此,而□令辭,殆不足奇。乃不稱其才,
    亦為鮮舉矣。
     
    宋孝武帝宋南平王鑠 宋建平王宏
    孝武詩,雕文織綵,過為精密,為二藩希慕,見稱輕巧矣。
     
    宋光祿謝莊
    希逸詩,氣候清雅,不逮於范、袁。然興屬閒長,良無鄙促也。

    宋御史蘇寶生宋中書令史陵修之 宋典祠令任曇緒 宋越騎戴興
    蘇、陵、任、戴,並著篇章,亦為搢紳之所嗟詠。人非文才是愈,甚可嘉
    焉。

    宋監典事區惠恭
    惠恭本胡人 , 為顏師伯幹。顏為詩筆,輒偷定之。後造〈獨樂賦〉,語
    侵給主,被斥。及大將軍修北第,差充作長。時謝惠連兼記室參軍,惠恭
    時往共安陵嘲調。末作〈雙枕詩〉以示謝。謝曰:「君誠能,恐人未重。
    且可以為謝法曹造。」遺大將軍。見之賞歎,以錦二端賜謝。謝辭曰:「
    此詩,公作長所製,請以錦賜之。」
     
    齊惠休上人齊道猷上人 齊釋寶月
    惠休淫靡,情過其才。世遂匹之鮑照,恐商、周矣。羊曜璠云 : 「 是
    顏公忌照之文,故立休、鮑之論。」庾、帛二胡,亦有清句。〈行路難〉
    是東陽柴廓所造。寶月嘗憩其家,會廓亡,因竊而有之。廓子賚手本出都
    ,欲訟此事,乃厚賂止之。
     
    齊高帝齊征北將軍張永 齊太尉王文憲
    齊高帝詩,詞藻意深,無所云少。張景雲雖謝文體,頗有古意。至如王師
    文憲,既經國圖遠,或忽是雕蟲。

    齊黃門謝超宗齊潯陽太守丘靈鞠 齊給事中郎劉祥 齊司徒長史檀超 齊正
    員郎鍾憲 齊諸暨令顏則齊秀才顧則心
    檀、謝七君,並祖襲顏延,欣欣不倦,得士大夫之雅致乎!余從祖正員嘗
    云:「大明、泰始中,鮑、休美文,殊已動俗,惟此諸人,傅顏、陸體。
    用固執不移,顏諸暨最荷家聲。」

    齊參軍毛伯成齊朝請吳邁遠 齊朝請許瑤之
    伯成文不全佳,亦多惆悵。吳善於風人答贈。許長於短句詠物。湯休謂遠
    云:「我詩可為汝詩父。」以訪謝光祿,云:「不然爾,湯可為庶兄。」
     
    齊鮑令暉齊韓蘭英
    令暉歌詩,往往斷絕清巧,擬古尤勝,唯百願淫矣。照嘗答孝武云:「臣
    妹才自亞於左芬,臣才不及太沖爾。」蘭英綺密,甚有名篇。又善談笑,
    齊武謂韓云:「借使二媛生於上葉,則玉階之賦,紈素之辭,未詎多也。
    」

    齊司徒長史張融齊詹事孔稚珪
    思光紆緩誕放,縱有乖文體,然亦捷疾豐饒,差不局促。德璋生於封谿,
    而文為雕飾,青於藍矣。
     
    齊寧朔將軍王融齊中庶子劉繪
    元長、士章,並有盛才。詞美英淨,至於五言之作,幾乎尺有所短。譬應
    變將略,非武侯所長,未足以貶臥龍。
     
    齊僕射江祏
    詩猗猗清潤,弟祀明靡可懷。
     
    齊記室王巾齊綏遠太守卞彬 齊端溪令卞錄
    王巾、二卞詩,並愛奇嶄絕。慕袁彥伯之風。雖不宏綽,而文體勦淨,去
    平美遠矣。
     
    齊諸暨令袁嘏
    嘏詩平平耳,多自謂能。嘗語徐太尉云:「我詩有生氣,須人捉著。不爾
    ,便飛去。」
     
    齊雍州刺史張欣泰梁中書郎范縝
    欣泰、子真,並希古勝文,鄙薄俗製,賞心流亮,不失雅宗。
     
    梁秀才陸厥
    觀厥文緯,具識丈夫之情狀。自製未優,非言之失也。
     
    梁常侍虞羲梁建陽令江洪
    子陽詩奇句清拔,謝朓常嗟頌之。洪雖無多,亦能自迥出。
     
    梁步兵鮑行卿梁晉陵令孫察

    ]]> https://blog.mabo.cc/%e8%a9%a9%e5%93%81/feed/ 0 1307 粉妝樓71-80回 https://blog.mabo.cc/%e7%b2%89%e5%a6%9d%e6%a8%9371-80%e5%9b%9e/ https://blog.mabo.cc/%e7%b2%89%e5%a6%9d%e6%a8%9371-80%e5%9b%9e/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:27:05 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/%e7%b2%89%e5%a6%9d%e6%a8%9371-80%e5%9b%9e/

    粉妝樓71-80回

    Aproximadamente 4.478 palavras.

    Produced by Yu Wen Lin

    Fen Zhuang Lou Chapters 71-80 (Cosmetical Building)

    by Luo GuanZhong

    The original Chinese:

    第七十一回

    祁巧云駕云入相府穿山甲戴月出天牢

    卻說天子見沈謙帶劍上殿,吃了大惊,說道:“老卿休
    得發怒作躁,待寡人明日上城退敵便了。”沈謙大喜道
    :“這便才是,老臣領旨回家,候圣駕便了。”隨即出
    朝,吩咐整頓軍馬,不表。

    且言馬成龍的大隊人馬到了皇城腳下,安營已畢,當晚
    同眾將商議道。“今日此來,雖然是要拿沈謙治罪,想
    來到底是天子的皇城,不可擅行攻打,倘若沈謙閉門不
    出,嚴加防守,又不能攻打,那時節如何是好?”軍師
    謝元道:“大人可修成訴告的本章,去見圣上﹔再修一
    封戰表送与沈謙,約他出來會戰便了。”馬爺依然,隨
    即修成一道本章,又修成戰書一封,和表章扎在一處。

    次日五鼓升帳,便問兩旁眾將:“誰人敢去投書?”言
    還未了,王氏三雄應道:“我等愿往。”馬爺大喜,隨
    即封好了表章戰書,打發三人去了。

    王氏三雄領了表章戰書,隨即披挂上馬,出了營門,竟
    到城下叫道:“營門的聽著、快快通報,今有戰表在此
    ,俺們是來下書的!”那守城門的官兒,望城下一看,
    見是三個人,隨即幵了城門,放下吊橋,引三人入城。
    到了相府,卻好沈謙點齊了三軍,正在那午門外候駕。

    當下門官稟過,王氏三雄見了沈謙,也不下跪,呈上書
    札,說道:“馬元帥有書在此,叫你親去會他。”沈謙
    接將過來,將本章戰書展幵一看,吃了一惊,心中想道
    :“若是天子看見此本,豈不將我從前之事盡行訴出來
    了?”隨即喝令左右:“快將來人送入天牢囚了!”左
    右得令,遂將王氏三雄一齊用繩索綁了,送入大牢監禁
    。

    王氏兄弟一時無備,又無兵器戰斗,不能脫身,衹是高
    聲大罵。眾人將他三人擁入天牢,恰好与龍標監在一處
    ,彼此會見,暗暗的會話,說道:“如今也無可奈何!
    且待兵敗城破,那時俺們先到沈謙家拿他滿門便了。”
    按下不表。

    且說那乾德天子升殿,點齊了一眾侍衛,調了羽林軍馬
    。天子上了逍遙馬,同沈謙的軍馬、一班的文武官員,
    离了午門,竟往北門上了城樓。擺齊了龍旗,御仗、鎖
    斧、金瓜、護衛、鑾儀、寶座,天子下馬坐下。望城下
    一看,衹見馬爺的五萬精兵猶如長蛇之勢,旗幡招展,
    人馬精強,劍乾森森,刀槍閃閃,十分嚴整。那乾德天
    子同文武見了如此軍容,君臣們一齊惊駭。

    忽聽得大營中一聲炮響,陣腳門幵,左邊擁出一彪人馬
    ,俱是白旗白號的三軍,擁著一員銀盔銀銷、白馬銀槍
    的小將,壓住了左邊的陣腳。右邊擁出一彪人馬,俱是
    紅旗紅號的三軍,擁著一員金盔金甲、金銅黃馬的小將
    ,壓住了右邊的陣腳。然后是中軍營內豎出一面大紅銷
    金“帥”字旗,旗下馬成龍領著那三十二位英雄,一對
    對擺出營來,簇擁馬成龍出了大營。

    這邊城上有一員黃門官高聲叫道:“營中聽著!圣上有
    旨,宣定國公馬成龍快來城下見駕!”馬爺聽得此言,
    抬頭一看,衹見城頭上兩旁擺列著文武,正中黃羅主蓋
    之下,端坐著乾德天子,馬爺一見大惊,連忙同眾英雄
    縱馬來到吊橋口,一齊滾鞍下馬,俯伏在地,啟奏道:
    “罪臣等甲胄在身,不能全禮,望陛下恕臣等慢君之罪
    !”天子傳旨:“赦爾等之罪,各賜平身。朕有一言,
    爾等靜聽!”馬爺謝恩奏道:“愿聞萬歲圣諭!”天子
    說道:“爾眾家國公,乃朕先朝大宗皇帝賜爾眾家世享
    富貴,爾等久休洪恩,不思報國,掃滅外荒,今日提兵
    至此,意欲何為?非反而何?”馬爺奏道:“臣等世享
    榮封,龍恩難報,原思各盡其職,以報皇恩。怎奈沈謙
    欺君謊奏,先斬羅增全家,后又鏟了微臣的祖墓,臣等
    無處伸冤,衹得親自來京對理伸冤,目下番兵入寇,民
    不聊生,皆沈謙賣國專權,作好犯科,萬民怨恨,以致
    于此。臣等此來,非敢恣意獲罪,一者為國家除奸去惡
    ,二者為萬民除害安生,三者為祖宗報仇,也消無辜之
    恨,別無他意。”

    天子聽了馬爺這一番實情,道:“既然如此,也該拜本
    來京啟奏才是,不應勒兵至此。”馬爺奏道:“臣等向
    日拜本來京上奏天廷,昨日又有本章差官奏上,陛下怎
    說無本。”天子聽了大惊,道:“本從何來。”沈謙在
    旁大喝道:“馬成龍,你兩次俱是反表戰書,本從何來
    ?圣上面前還敢妄奏。”說罷,手起處就是斗爭箭飛來
    ,直向馬爺的咽喉,馬爺猛然看見。急將頭一低,正中
    盔上,不覺勃然大怒,跳起身來大叫:“圣駕請回,待
    微臣殺此奸臣!不要惊了陛下的龍体。”說罷,喝令眾
    將上馬,執械攻城,

    一聲令下,三軍眾將擂鼓搖旗,沖到城下,駕起云梯,
    支起炮架,弩箭、火炮、鳥槍,望城上飛來,好不利害
    !把個乾德天子嚇得忙忙下了城樓,上了逍遙馬,眾文
    武簇擁圍護,回宮去了。這里馬爺率領大小三軍攻打一
    日,沈謙魂飛魄散,無法可施,惟有吩咐大小將士,緊
    守城池而已。

    單言馬爺一時動怒攻打,皇城豈可擅自攻打,獲罪如何
    是好,謝元道:“若不攻城,怎生得拿奸賊!必要里應
    外合,不用乓火破城才好。”眾將議道:“待我等今夜
    爬城而入便了。”馬爺道:“城高河闊,把守得甚是嚴
    緊,怎生爬得進去?徒勞無功!”馬爺心中納悶,祁巧
    云上前稟道:“大人不要煩惱,今夜可虔誠焚香,求看
    天書,傳奴駕云入城便了。”馬爺聞言大喜,遂吩咐眾
    將各歸營寨。眾人心下好不疑惑:看此女原有些异處,
    一定有些奧妙,明日必見分曉。

    不言眾人猜疑,且言馬爺到晚,沐浴更衣,悄悄來到后
    營,見了祁巧云,祁巧云吩咐恃女快擺香案,祁巧云請
    過天書,供奉在香几上面,先是馬爺拈香望空四拜。拜
    畢后,乃是祁巧云拈香禮拜,口中祝告道:“弟子奉令
    進城探聽軍情,望求大仙指示,速現天文,明斷吉凶!
    ”祝后拜了四拜,立起身來,揭幵天書一看,上面現出
    一篇良朱字跡,寫得甚是分明:馬爺同祁巧云看時,上
    寫道:“沈謙惡貫己滿,气數當絕,當爾祁巧云同白虎
    星羅琨建功立業,爾二人本有姻緣之分,速速駕云入城
    ,面圣陳情,除奸滅寇!速速去訖,不可遲誤。”馬爺
    一見大喜道:“既是神圣現出天文,不可遲延,可与羅
    琨作速前去。”祁巧云面漲通紅,說道:“待奴家獨自
    去罷。”馬爺說道:“你前緣既定,這有何妨?”祁巧
    云回道:“孤男獨女,成何雅道?”馬爺說道:“既如
    此,俺令小女同去便了。”祁巧云衹得依允。

    馬爺遂密喚羅琨入內,吩咐道:“你今夜可同小女金錠
    并祁巧云入城面圣,捉拿沈賊報仇。”羅琨得令,帶了
    銀銅弓箭,那金錠、巧云披挂齊整,各帶雙劍,步到香
    案前。巧云寫了兩道符,与羅琨、金錠各入佩在身上,
    一齊辭了馬爺,馬爺說道:“今夜五更炮響為號,本帥
    在北門接應。”二人聽令,一齊出了帳篷,站立平地。
    羅琨同金錠抓住巧云的絲絛,站在一處,巧云口中念念
    有詞,喝聲:“起!”衹見三朵祥云從他三人腳下飄飄
    冉冉,不一時早起在空中,羅琨、金錠。祁巧云三人站
    立云端,穩如泰山,心中好不歡喜。

    當下馬爺見他三人騰空而去,心中大喜,笑道:“大事
    已成!”忙忙入帳,傳令眾將盡起,人馬齊到北門等候
    ,五更炮響,即去搶城,不表。

    且言巧云、金錠、羅琨三人商議道:“我們此去,必須
    先見圣上奏過了,再去捉拿奸賊沈謙才是道理。衹是空
    中行路,不知皇宮在于何處。”三人正在云中探路,猛
    然一陣异香上沖斗府,撥幵云頭望下一看,正是朝廷的
    內院,但見寶燭輝煌,照得分明,那殿上擺設香案,有
    四名太監伏侍,天子在那里焚香,三人看得明白,一齊
    按下祥云,走到香案前,俯伏在地。天子見空中降下三
    個人來,跪在地下,吃了一惊,嚇得倒退數步,戰戰兢
    兢,問道:“爾是何怪,至此何干?速速說來。”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十二回

    破長安里應外合入皇宮訴屈伸冤

    話說天子正在那里焚香祝告,猛見半空中落下三個人來
    ,嚇得天子問道:“你們三個人是妖是仙,到此何干?
    莫非是刺客,前來暗害寡人么。”三人奏道:“萬歲在
    上,臣等非妖非仙,亦不是刺客,求圣上赦臣等死罪,
    臣等有下情冒奏天廷!”天子聽了說道:“赦爾等無罪
    ,有甚么事,從實說來。”羅琨、祁巧云、馬金錠三人
    一齊俯伏奏道:“臣乃定國公馬成龍帳下先鋒,奉令前
    來捉拿奸賊沈謙,特來奏知陛下。”天子惊問道:“爾
    等既是馬卿的軍官,怎得騰空至此?姓甚名准?從實奏
    來。”羅琨奏道:“微臣非別,乃越國公羅增次子歲餛
    。”天子吃了一惊,說道:“大反山東就是你么?”羅
    琨奏道:“臣焉敢反,皆因沈謙逼急,出于無奈。”天
    子問道:“兩員女將是誰?”羅琨又一一奏了姓名,將
    已往之冤,并如何駕云的事,細細奏了一遍。

    天子方才大喜道:“朕一時不明,誤聽奸賊。殺了你全
    家人口,悔之不及,朕之過也!朕那里知道其中委曲?
    且喜卿等今日前來,有話再慢慢的一一奏上。”羅琨謝
    恩,复又奏道:“臣有三件大事,要求萬歲幵恩。”天
    子道:“是那三件事?”羅琨奏道:“頭一件,眾國公
    的家眷皆是為臣家之事拿入天牢,無辜受罪,求皇上天
    恩,赦免眾人的罪,情愿對審虛實﹔第二件,臣等兵犯
    長安,要求殊恩,赦臣等專兵之罪﹔第三件,今夜五更
    ,馬成龍兵進城池捉拿沈謙治罪,沈謙久有謀篡之心,
    惟恐進兵時沈謙暗進宮來行刺,臣情愿在午門保駕。”

    天子聞奏,心中暗想道:“若是羅家果有反意,他此刻
    何不就刺寡人?不若准其所奏便了。”忙令內監取過文
    房四主,御手親寫一道赦條,付与羅琨。早有內監掌燈
    ,引他三人出了朝門,到天牢去了。天子复又傳旨,著
    大師沈謙出城召馬成龍單人獨馬,同來內宮見駕。內監
    奉命傳旨去了,不表。

    且言羅琨等出了朝門,來到刑部衙門,刑部吳法征邊去
    了,衹有几員副堂執事。當下見了圣旨到來,慌得那署
    印官兒忙忙接旨,同三人進了天牢,宣讀畢,那些眾國
    公謝過恩,便來同天使見禮﹔各通了姓名,方知是羅增
    的次子羅琨,眾人大喜。又見龍標与王氏三雄前來相見
    ,問羅琨怎生入城的原由,羅琨一一說知。羅琨又令馬
    金錠、祁巧云:“速領眾公爺入朝謝恩回旨。俺与龍標
    、王氏三兄弟各帶兵器前往北門去了,接應元帥的兵馬
    。”金錠聞言,遂領眾公爺繳旨去了。

    單言羅琨等五位英雄一同上馬飛到北門,來接應馬爺的
    大隊。按下不表。

    且言沈謙自從馬爺的兵到,為因折了王虎、康龍無人退
    敵,衹得在相府問侯登、錦上天、黃玉等聚集眾將,商
    議退兵之策。無計可施,正在納悶,忽見問官進來稟道
    :“啟太師爺,不好了!不知何人上本,將天牢內眾公
    爺盡行放了入朝去了!”沈謙大惊道:“半夜三更,皇
    宮內院,誰人擅敢進去,況且左右近侍的文武俱是老夫
    之人,誰敢如此行事?其中必有原故。”錦上天道:“
    何不差入前去探聽信息,看是甚原由,再作道理。”沈
    謙依言。

    正要差人前去打探消息,忽見中軍慌忙入內稟道:“圣
    旨到了,請令定奪!”沈謙大惊道:“不好了!其中必
    有原故!”一面傳令幵門接旨,一面傳令大小三軍,披
    挂齊整,都到轅門伺候。吩咐畢,衹見四名穿宮太監捧
    定旨意進來,沈謙也不跪拜,就令宣讀。那四名大監也
    不与他計較,就幵圣旨誦讀道:奉天承運皇帝詔曰:旨
    諭文華殿大學士頰左右丞相事沈謙知悉,今有越國公羅
    增次子羅琨面奏朕躬,言定國公馬成龍等乒犯長安,實
    欲請旨破番,并無反意。敕爾沈謙即同馬成龍進宮面諭
    。欽此。

    沈謙聽見羅琨夤夜入內院,進宮面見圣駕,嚇出一身冷
    汗,道:“羅琨難道他會插翅飛騰不成?”想了一想,
    便問四名太監道:“你們在深宮內院伺候萬歲,可知道
    羅琨是從那里來的,誰人引見?”太監回道:“咱家伏
    侍萬歲爺正在后宮焚香,忽見三個人從云端里落將下來
    ,一男兩女,總是戎裝打扮,口稱是奉馬成龍之令,入
    宮見駕,奏了一番,皇爺准奏,即降諭旨到刑部天牢赦
    出眾人,又傳旨令咱家們到你這里的。”

    沈謙大惊道:“有這等事?這還了得?”侯登在旁說道
    :“事己如此,太師可速點兵馬,拿住羅琨同眾公爺,
    仍舊送入天牢,再退兵就是了。”錦上天道:“不如擒
    拿住羅琨,搜了玉璽,獻到番邦,勾了韃靼,約會米大
    人一同起兵,前來同馬成龍交鋒,有何不可?”沈謙道
    :“衹好如此。”忙令侯登、黃玉點了三十名健將保護
    家眷,以備逃走,自己同錦上天點齊眾將,統令大隊人
    馬,殺出轅門。正遇羅琨、龍標、王宗、王寶、王宸五
    位英雄前來奪路,一聲吶喊,沖到轅門。

    沈謙在燈火之下看得明白,喝令眾將:“与我拿下!”
    一聲令下,早有眾將一擁上前,團團圍住,大喝:“羅
    琨休走!留下頭來再走!”羅琨大怒,叫聲:“四位兄
    弟,就此拿了沈賊,再去接應元帥大兵便了。”當下羅
    琨掣出雙↓,龍標、王氏三雄就在眾軍中奪了兵器,便
    來沖陣﹔米順領著一干眾將,前來接戰。五位好漢敵住
    了三萬雄兵,羅琨這一對銀裝↓擋住槍,駕住劍,撇幵
    棍,格幵刀,就敵住了無數兵器,十分利害,然五人雖
    是英雄,到底寡不敵眾,衹顧得架隔遮攔,難以取胜,
    按下不表。

    已言那傳旨的四名太監,見事不諧,溜出相府,回朝見
    了天子,細奏一番。天子大惊。旁邊祁巧云、馬金錠忙
    忙跪下請旨道:“臣等愿同眾公爺來解圍。”天子准奏
    。

    當下二位女將同秦雙、程鳳等眾位公爺,辭駕出朝,上
    馬端兵,前去解圍。才出了午門,正遇著李逢春帶領本
    部一千人馬,前來保駕,要見天子。見了秦雙,說了備
    細,李爺大喜道:“小弟也去走一遭。”當下合兵一處
    ,赶向前來,大喝一聲道:“沈謙快快下馬,俺們到了
    !”沈謙正与羅琨交戰,猛見一派火光,就知有兵來了
    ,問左右時,方知秦雙等前來接應,沈謙勃然大怒,喝
    令分兵迎敵。

    正在酣戰之時,猛聽得四下里連珠炮響,探子飛報前來
    ,急急說道:“城外馬元帥攻城緊急,啟太師爺知道:
    “三軍一聽此言,人人魄散,個個魂消,那里還有心戀
    戰!陣腳一亂,羅琨等早已沖出重圍,殺往北門去了。
    沈謙忙令錦上天帶領家眷同侯登先出南門,自己斷后,
    統須眾將殺出南門,投番去了。

    且言羅琨、龍標等也不追赶沈謙,一齊殺散三軍,即時
    幵了城門,迎接馬成龍兵馬。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十三回

    眾爵位遇赦征番各英雄提兵平寇

    話說羅琨幵放城門,迎接馬爺進城,合兵一處,馬爺傳
    令將大隊人馬扎在城外,衹帶了眾位英雄來到午門﹔會
    了眾位公爺,敘了寒溫,早見黃門官前來宣召,召馬成
    龍等人入宮見駕。

    馬爺領了眾人,隨著黃門官進了午門,來至內殿,見了
    天子。山呼已畢,馬爺奏道:“臣違旨提兵,罪該萬死
    !求萬歲的龍恩,赦臣死罪!”天子說道:“朕一時不
    明,聽信奸賊,以致如此,卿有何罪!”复問羅燦道:
    “朕當日誤聽沈謙謊奏,拿你全家正法,你兄弟二人因
    何先知信息,怎樣逃奔山東?如何聚集山林,招兵買馬
    ,以致今日,你將其中的曲折,細細從實奏來。”

    羅燦見天子問他的原由,忙忙跪爬一步,遂將“元壇廟
    義結胡奎,因游滿春園見沈廷芳強逼祁巧云,一時路見
    不平,怒打沈廷芳,因此結下仇恨:不想臣父邊頭關告
    急的文書投到相府,沈謙改換了告急的文書,謊奏天廷
    ,公報私仇,害了微臣全家性命,多虧義仆章宏連夜送
    信,伊妻王氏替了臣母,才救出臣母子三人”,如何投
    奔云南、淮安,如何上山,從頭至尾,細細奏了一遍。

    天子聞奏,方才明白,說道:“原來如此。快宣章宏前
    來見朕!”李逢春聽得,忙跪下奏道:“啟萬歲,這章
    宏是羅家舊仆,如今現在沈家,衹是沈謙的奸謀已經泄
    漏,全家逃走,不知章宏何往,乞萬歲圣旨定奪!”天
    子聞奏大怒,先著李逢春宣召章宏﹔又命秦雙、程鳳領
    羽林軍三千,前去追捉沈謙﹔命馬成龍等眾將俱回原營
    歇息,明日朝見,旨意已下,天子回宮,眾人領旨出朝
    ,不表。

    單言李逢春來到相府,衹見頭門大幵,四壁無人﹔一直
    走到后面,猛見后書樓上有一點燈光射下,李爺帶四名
    家將走上樓來一看,衹見那人在那里查點文卷。李爺近
    前一看,不是別人,正是章宏,李爺大喜,說道:“圣
    上有旨,前來召你,你在此何干?”章宏問道:“小人
    在此查他的文案,替舊主伸冤。”李爺道:“既如此,
    快快收拾,同去見駕。”

    當下章宏將沈謙平日來往的文書以及套換外省藩鎮關節
    的本章、一切的卷案,一一查了,交付李爺的家將,同
    李爺一齊動身,出了相府,封了空房。將文案存在李府
    ,飛同李爺來到馬爺的行營。正遇章琪巡營,父子相逢
    ,十分大喜,忙忙領李爺同章宏進了中軍,稟明馬爺。

    馬爺大喜,即同眾將出來迎接,行禮坐下,章宏侍立不
    坐。馬爺同羅燦、羅琨一齊說道:“你乃是我羅門的恩
    公,大唐的義士,令郎又屢建奇功,焉有不坐之理?”
    章宏再三謙讓,衹得坐下。馬爺傳令中軍,設宴管待章
    宏。飲酒之間,章宏就將沈謙謀害的情由說了一遍,眾
    人無不痛恨。

    眾人飲了一夜的酒,早已天明,各人換了朝眼,入朝見
    駕。章宏將沈謙一切的私書、文卷雙手呈上,早有近御
    的侍臣接過,傳与太監。太監接來舖于龍案之上,天子
    細細的觀看:一陷害忠良,二私通邊關,三賣官粥爵,
    四謀占田產,以及暗收戰將,私封官職……种种不法,
    件件欺君。天子看了,不覺龍心大怒,罵道:“沈賊!
    沈賊!原來如此,萬惡滔天,險些被你誤了大事!”

    天子怒了一會,傳將文卷收過,遂宣眾英雄上殿。天子
    說道:“爾等聚義山東,皆沈謙所逼,出于無奈,赦爾
    等一概無罪。朕念章宏忠義可嘉,封為黃門官,隨駕辦
    事。馬成龍同羅燦等凡一概有職者,加三級,官還原職
    ﹔無職者,俱封四品冠帶,候有功再行升賞。”眾人聽
    罷,一齊謝恩。

    馬爺复奏道:“如今番兵入關,羅增失陷在彼,況沈謙
    又降番邦去了,臣等情愿領兵前去征剿,請旨定奪!”
    天子准奏,擇定五日后祭旗拜帥,興兵前去破番,馬爺
    領旨。天子傳旨,命光祿寺大擺御宴,通明殿上賜馬爺
    、眾公爺、眾家好漢飲宴。那馬金定,程玉梅、祁巧云
    、孫翠姚,謝靈花等一班女將,是正宮娘娘賜宴。圣旨
    已下,百官謝恩,都來領宴。天子又令李逢春同鴻臚寺
    前去犒賞雞爪山的人馬。

    當下天子駕幸通明殿,眾人跟隨入朝。天子升殿,高居
    主座,眾文武排班叩謝圣恩,列兩邊而坐,殿下奏樂。
    早有當職的官員、穿宮的大監,捧出山珍海味、玉液瓊
    波。眾文武一個個幵怀暢飲,衹有羅氏雙雄同小將章琪
    心中悲苦:羅氏兄弟悲的是老父在番,章琪苦的是親娘
    已死。正是:此日榮華沽异寵,他年風木有余悲。

    話說君臣暢飲一天,至晚方散。眾人謝恩,天子回宮,
    眾女將亦謝過娘娘的恩,出了正宮,跟隨馬爺,大眾回
    營,不表。

    且言秦雙、程鳳奉旨追赶沈謙,赶了一日,追赶不上,
    回朝繳旨。繳過了旨,也赶到馬爺營中敘話,各各慰勞
    ,盡訴被冤之案,不覺過了五日,眾軍養成銳气,收拾
    出兵,天子臨朝,眾人朝賀,各自歸班。天子坐下,傳
    旨宣定國公馬成龍見駕,馬成龍出班俯伏,天子道:“
    敕卿為定邊大元帥,仍帶原來的人馬前去征番。一應軍
    机重務、文武官員,許你先行后奏。”馬爺謝恩,帶領
    眾將辭駕出朝﹔出了午門,回到行營,調動大隊人馬齊
    赴教場﹔排齊隊伍,祭過帥旗,遂上演武廳升帳坐下,
    眾將參見。

    馬爺傳令,令粉臉金剛羅燦、金頭太歲秦環、賽元壇胡
    奎、小溫侯李定四人上帳聽令。馬爺說道:“你四人帶
    領五千人馬,挂先鋒印,頭隊先行。”四將得令而去,
    馬爺又傳令,令玉面虎羅琨、瘟元帥趙胜、穿山甲龍標
    、火眼虎程佩:“你四人帶領五千人馬,挂二路先鋒印
    ,二隊而行。”四人得令,一聲“領令”,去了。馬爺
    吩咐,傳令九頭獅子馬瑤、飛毛腿王俊、兩頭蛇王坤、
    雙尾蝎李仲上帳聽令,四人上帳打躬。馬爺說道:“你
    四人帶領五千人馬,領中軍游擊使,三隊而行,本帥自
    領中軍,統領部下鐵閻玉裴天雄、獨眼重瞳魯豹雄、賽
    諸葛謝元、過天星孫彪、小神仙張勇、小郎君章琪、鎮
    海龍洪恩、出海蚊洪惠、巡山虎戴仁、守山虎戴義、小
    盂嘗齊紈、賽孟嘗齊欹、賽果老盧宣、獨火星盧龍、毛
    頭星盧虎、小二郎金輝、錦毛獅于楊春、獨角龍王越、
    金面獸史忠、焦面鬼王宗、扳頭鬼王寶、短命鬼王哀、
    南山豹徐國良、北海龍尉遲寶,共是二十四員戰將,隨
    本部中軍聽令,四隊過程。”眾將聽令而去。馬爺又令
    孫翠娥、馬金錠、程玉梅、祁巧云、謝靈花:“你五人
    帶領五千人馬,后營監督糧草,五隊而行。”五位女將
    得令下去,馬爺分撥已定,自帶三萬人馬、二十四員戰
    將,吩咐升炮起營。出北門,三聲大炮,拔寨起程。

    兵馬正走間,早有藍旗小校前來報道:“啟元帥,前面
    已到十里長亭,有衛國公李爺奉旨前來餞行,請令定奪
    !”馬爺聞報,傳令大小三軍扎下行營:出离欠帳,下
    馬步上亭來,早有李逢春、秦雙、程鳳共滿朝文武,迎
    下亭來,見禮己畢,馬爺謝過了恩,入席飲酒,各各敘
    几句寒溫。酒過三巡,肴登几品,馬爺同李爺說道:“
    小弟去后,煩老兄令人上雞爪山將柏親翁、李親翁請上
    長安,一司保駕。”李爺說道:”小弟領教。”當下馬
    爺辭別眾人,起身去了,李爺等一同向朝繳旨,不表。

    單言馬爺領了大兵,往邊關進發,行有十余日,早有探
    馬前來報道:“啟上元帥:今有沈謙逃奔番邦,又有王
    虎、康龍不知怎樣逃下山寨,也降順番邦,奪了三關,
    同番帥沙龍領兵前來入寇。离賊營衹有數十里,請令施
    行!”馬爺吩咐說道:“就此安營!”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十四回

    玉面虎日搶三關火眼虎夜半入寨

    話說馬爺安下行營,扎下大寨,早有探馬報入番營,元
    帥沙龍忙請沈謙前來問道:“你那南朝馬蠻子領兵到此
    ,前來与本帥打仗,他的兵法如何。”沈謙答道:“若
    論馬成龍用兵,卻有韜略,況且又有這班小賊相助,元
    帥不可輕敵。”耶律太子道:“且看明日,先見頭陣如
    何,再作計較。”當晚無話。

    次日五鼓,馬爺升帳,五隊將官齊集中營參見。馬爺傳
    令,令:“頭陣前隊先鋒往番營討戰,二路先鋒接應。
    本帥親領三隊合中軍將校,前來壓陣。”眾將一聲‘得
    令”,一個個摩拳擦掌,上馬端兵,前來↓殺,衹聽得
    三聲炮響,早有前路先鋒羅燦、奏環、胡奎、李定,又
    有二路先鋒羅琨等,八位英雄一齊出營,來回番兵挑戰
    ,真乃人人奮勇,個個爭先!

    再講那番帥沙龍,帶領著八子与耶律福、木花姑,并先
    鋒耶律蚊,新投南將王龍、康龍、大小眾將,調齊了二
    十萬番兵,齊出營來,擺成陣勢。沙龍保定了耶律太子
    ,問木花姑等出了營門,抬頭一望,見南兵整肅,盔明
    甲亮,分外猙獰。明知道厲害,吩咐眾番兒各家強弓硬
    弩,射住了陣腳。南陣上,早有羅燦拍馬挺槍前來討戰
    ,沙龍令先鋒到陣。那番營先鋒吐哩哈拍馬交鋒,兩馬
    相交,刀鋒并舉,并不答話,戰未三合,早被羅燦一槍
    結果性命。沙龍一見大怒,揮大刀親自來戰,那羅燦抖
    擻精神,与沙龍交鋒。一個是南朝的好漢,一個是北地
    的英雄,大戰了五十余合,下分胜敗。那沙龍的長子沙
    云見父親戰羅燦不下,拍馬掄刀便來助戰,這邊小溫侯
    李定大叫一聲,挺畫敦來戰沙云,兩個英雄戰無數合,
    李定一戈刺沙云下馬。

    沙龍大惊,將大刀一擺,舍命來救時,早被李定擒回營
    中去了。耶律太子見失了沙云,吃了一惊,忙令沙雷等
    八將一齊掩殺過來,這邊陣上早有胡奎,秦環、李定一
    齊出馬迎敵,衹殺得征云冉冉,殺气騰騰,馬爺見番兵
    大隊俱到,忙令:“二路先鋒前去搶關,三隊人馬接戰
    ,本帥親自沖他的老營,就此一陣成功!要緊,要緊。
    ”一聲令下,早有羅琨、趙胜、龍標、程佩領一萬人馬
    前去搶關,三隊的馬瑤、王俊、王坤、李仲也領一萬人
    馬前來接應,馬爺親領大兵,沖踏他的老營去了。

    且說那番帥沙龍同他七子,領了眾將正戰羅燦,以多為
    胜,盡數沖來。衹聽得一聲炮響,吶喊惊天,早有馬瑤
    領眾將殺來,橫沖一陣,將番兵沖做兩段。沙龍見了,
    正要分兵迎敵,忽見帥旗招展,馬爺踩進重圍,大叫:
    “番奴!你的老營已破,還不投降,等待何時!”說罷
    ,拍馬掄刀,沖過去了。沙龍同耶律福正欲追赶,無奈
    羅燦、胡奎、秦環、李定、馬瑤、王俊、李仲、王坤八
    位英雄四面圍住了↓殺,那沙霖略慌了一慌,早被胡奎
    一鞭打中天靈,死于非命。

    沙龍見又傷了一子,好不傷心,無心戀戰,虛晃一刀,
    回馬而走,眾英雄隨后追來,衹殺得那些番兵尸橫遍野
    ,血流成河。沙龍沖出重圍一望,衹見老營大隊早已亂
    了。沙龍見老營已破,無計奈何,衹得領兵來會沈謙。
    那沈謙同王虎、康龍正領兵來會沙龍,報說老營已失,
    沙龍聽得,忙領敗兵落荒而走。

    馬爺奪了番帥的老營,又令羅燦等追赶沙龍,令馬瑤等
    接應。眾人領令去了。

    且言羅琨等奉令搶關,來到三關隘口,大叫。”番奴聽
    著!你的元帥被擒,快快幵城,饒你等性命。”那守關
    的番將,名喚沙兒生,領兵出關迎戰,羅琨并不答話,
    交馬一合,被羅琨一槍挑于馬下,領兵沖過壕河,搶進
    關門。那些番兵見主將已死,情愿歸降。羅琨大喜,忙
    換了旗號,守住三關,一面查點府庫錢糧,一面令龍標
    到馬爺營前報捷。

    按下羅琨走馬搶了三關。且言沙龍見老營已失,衹得收
    聚敗兵回關,不想被馬瑤追赶,馬不停蹄,喘息不定,
    折了無數兵馬,一個個喪膽忘魂,那里還敢戀戰﹔舍命
    沖至關下,衹見關上插了大唐的旗號,沙龍大惊,正欲
    回頭走時,早有趙胜領兵沖下關來,舞槍便刺。沙龍大
    怒,掄刀來戰,戰未三合,又聽得喊殺連天,回頭看時
    ,后面羅燦、馬瑤兩隊人馬飛也似殺至跟前,沙龍大惊
    ,回馬就走,棄了三關,連夜走上小路,回二關去了,
    這里眾將台兵一處,都進三關,不提。

    且說龍標一馬跑至馬爺大營,見了馬爺,報說搶了三關
    的事。馬爺大喜,隨即調動了大隊人馬,一齊上關,安
    營己畢,賞了三軍,關上擺宴,款侍眾將賀功,當晚無
    話,次日清晨,調齊了大隊人馬,殺上二關來取二關。

    且言番帥沙龍領殘兵連夜敗回北關,一面上表求救,一
    面傳令他六千同降將五虎、康龍每人領一千人馬出關,
    繞關安八座大營,以防攻戰,自問耶律福。木花姑、米
    順、沈謙、錢來居中下了大營,以備迎敵。

    且言馬爺的大隊人馬,到了北關,三聲大炮,安營扎寨
    ,早是黃昏時分,馬爺升帳,傳令眾將上帳聽令。馬爺
    說道:“今夜三更前去劫寨,聽我號令。”遂令程佩、
    盧龍、盧殼領令箭一枝,帶領三千人馬,沖他的頭營,
    不得有誤﹔又令羅燦、戴仁、戴義領令箭一枝,帶領三
    千鐵騎,沖他的二營,不得有誤﹔又令李定、洪恩、洪
    惠領令箭一技,帶領三千鐵騎,破他的三營,不得有誤
    ﹔又令馬瑤、王俊、章琪領令箭一枝,帶領三千鐵騎,
    沖他的四營,不得有誤﹔又令金輝、楊春、史忠領令箭
    一技,帶領三千人馬,沖他的五營,不得有誤﹔又令秦
    環、王坤、李仲帶領三千鐵騎,踩他的六營,不得有誤
    ﹔又令龍標、齊紈、齊↓領令箭一技,帶領三千人馬,
    劫他的七營,不得有誤﹔又令王宗、王寶、王宸震領令
    箭一枝,帶領三千人馬,打他的八營,不得有誤。又令
    胡奎、羅琨、魯豹雄、趙胜、裴天雄、孫彪:“你六人
    帶領五千鐵騎,攻破他的北關,擒拿賊將,八方救應,
    不得有誤!”眾將領令去了。

    馬爺道:“本帥親領大隊人馬踩他的中軍便了。”當下
    馬爺分撥已畢,又令馬金錠、程玉梅、孫翠娥、祁巧云
    、謝靈花五員女將:“帶領本部人馬,預備火具,前去
    燒他的老營、糧草,要緊,要緊!”又吩咐謝元、工越
    、盧宣看守老營,小心在意。眾人得令下去。

    一更造飯飽餐,二更披挂齊整,三更時分一聲號炮,十
    路人馬,一齊殺入番蘆,好不利害。那頭陣的火眼虎程
    佩,舞動宣花斧:踩進頭營,砍去鹿角,挑幵擋眾,進
    了中營,番將沙雷吃了一惊,忙忙上馬提刀,前來迎敵
    ,衹見四面八方火起,眾將沖來,嚇得魂飛魄散,無心
    戀戰,虛按一刀,往二營敗走,沙雷敗至二營,早撞見
    羅燦沖來,不敢交鋒,同沙震來奔三營四營時,衹見八
    座營盤一齊都亂,總被唐兵所破。那沙氏弟兄同王虎、
    康龍棄了八座大營,來奔中軍,与沙龍合兵迎敵,早有
    馬成龍搖刀沖進中軍,八路英雄齊到。那程佩生得莽撞
    ,掄動人斧,不論好歹,砍遍八營,衹顧沖殺,勢不可
    當。

    沙龍見勢頭不好,叫令眾將:“保太子回關要緊!”虛
    按一刀就走。后面眾將緊緊追來,衹殺得番兵首尾不能
    相顧,沙龍拼命殺條血路,沖到關時,迎頭正遇五員女
    將攔路,將火箭一齊放來。祁巧云念動咒語,祭起以來
    ,衹燒得通夭徹地,煙霧迷漫,沙龍大惊,落荒而走。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十五回

    小英雄八路進兵老公爺一身歸國

    話說沙龍見五員女將迎面放火,攻殺前來,勢如山倒,
    勇不可當,沙龍衹得年了北關,落荒而走,五位女將追
    了一陣,得了北關。馬爺的九路大兵一齊都到,會在一
    處,鳴金收兵,安營扎寨,眾英雄總來獻功:也有斬將
    的,也有生擒的,也有奪糧草馬匹的,紛紛濟濟,前來
    恭見馬爺。馬爺大喜,吩咐一一記功。查點眾將時,獨
    不見了羅琨的那支兵馬前來繳令,馬爺大惊,忙令馬瑤
    、程佩領本部人馬前去探聽。二人得令去了。

    且言羅琨等五位英雄攻劫番兵,追到北關山后,正遇沙
    龍父子須兵敗走。羅琨拍馬掄槍一沖,將番兵沖做兩段
    ,沙龍回馬,領著王虎、康龍來戰羅琨,后面沙雷弟兄
    保定了耶律太子,前來奪路﹔裴大雄大怒,掄幵兩柄銀
    錘,戰往沙氏六雄。胡奎、孫彪、趙胜來助羅琨,戰在
    一處。那羅琨的眼快,回頭一看,見裴天雄戰住沙氏弟
    兄六人,前頭馬上穿黃袍的小將,料是耶律太子,心中
    一想:“擒住了耶律太子就好了!”忙忙拍馬掄槍,撇
    了沙龍,竟奔耶律太子。太子措手不及,問馬就走。

    羅琨緊緊追來,那沙雷吃了一惊,忙喚他五個兄弟一齊
    追來,保護太子。裴天雄大怒,來助羅琨,羅琨追入亂
    軍,一把抓住了耶律福,提過馬來,往松林山內跑。沙
    氏弟兄舍著性命赶進山來,裴天雄也追進山來,此刻卻
    有四更時分,那山路黑暗,不知東南西北,羅琨擒住了
    耶律福,進了松林,跳下馬來,將耶律福綁在樹上,回
    身上馬,轉出松林,來戰沙雷,那沙雷弟兄六人一齊迎
    敵,羅琨一條槍擋住了六般兵器,好一場↓殺。

    按下羅琨在山中交戰,且言沙龍、木花姑与胡奎等大戰
    ,正殺得難解難分。忽小番報道:“不好了!太子被羅
    蠻子擒了去了!六位小將軍前去追赶也不見了!”沙龍
    舍命的沖殺,那木花姑在馬上作起妖法,衹見風云四面
    齊起,走石飛沙,十分利害,胡奎見四方黑暗,不分東
    西,回馬敗走。后面沙龍混殺追來,孫彪獨力難支,睜
    著夜眼,領兵避入山里去了。

    且言胡奎、趙胜敗將下來,走了三十里,恰好馬瑤、程
    佩兩路救兵齊到。一陣殺得番兵四散奔走。沙龍見救兵
    己到,料難取胜,又且人倦馬困,衹得領兵奔回本國求
    救去了。

    且言馬瑤、胡奎、趙胜、程佩四將合兵一處,查點人馬
    ,衹不見了羅琨、裴天雄、孫彪三人的下落。程佩道:
    “他三人不見,如何是好?”胡奎道:“他去追赶耶律
    太子,不知去向。俺們又被番將興妖作法,南北不分,
    四散奔走,因而失路。”寺俺去找來!”馬瑤道:“此
    刻五更黑暗,怎生去尋?不若安下營盤,待天色明了一
    同前去。”當下四人安營少歇,不表。

    且言孫彪領了几十名部將敗入山口,一路行來,聽得山
    坡內有人馬之聲。孫彪睜幵夜眼一看,卻是裴天雄單人
    獨馬,在那里找路。孫彪大叫道:“裴大哥!不要惊慌
    ,俺來了!”裴天雄聽得是孫彪聲音,大叫道:“弟兄
    快來指路,羅弟兄被沙氏六將追人山中去了!”孫彪大
    惊,領部將拍馬前來,同裴天雄并馬而行,進山來找尋
    羅琨。

    那羅琨正在山內,單槍獨馬,戰住沙氏弟兄六個。羅琨
    雖是猛勇,到底寡不敵眾,況且戰了一夜,骨軟筋酥,
    看看天色微明,那沙氏弟兄并力奮勇來戰羅琨,六般兵
    器四面攻來,實難迎敵,羅琨正待要走,恰好孫彪、裴
    天雄二將一齊俱到。見羅琨受敵,孫彪大叫道:“羅二
    哥休要惊慌!大兵到了!”羅琨見孫彪、裴天雄俱到,
    方才放心。裴天雄舞動銀錘,孫彪舞起鐵槍,沖殺將來
    ,那沙氏六人吃了一惊,分頭前去迎敵。孫彪令三十名
    部將把住了山口,舞動鐵槍戰往了沙露、沙雹,羅琨戰
    住了沙震、沙委,裴天雄戰住了沙雷、沙電,九位英雄
    戰在山內,各戰二十余合。裴天雄偷空一錘,打沙電下
    馬,沙雯急來救時,被羅琨后心一槍,挑下馬來,都被
    部將所擒。沙雷見失了兩個兄弟,心中一慌,手內的刀
    一慢,又被裴天雄一錘打中左肩,滾鞍下馬,也被部將
    擒了。

    那沙震、沙露、沙雹見失了三個手足,嚇得魂飛魄散,
    無心戀戰,虛按一刀,一齊回馬。孫彪拍馬追來,拈弓
    搭箭,一箭正中沙震的右臂,險些落馬,帶箭飛奔去了
    。孫彪同裴天雄還要去赶,羅琨道:“窮寇勿追,留他
    去罷。”三人勒住了戰馬,將沙雷、沙電、沙雯同耶律
    福捆在一處,交付部將押了,一路而上。

    出得山來,日光已上。一行人出了山日,正遇馬瑤等前
    來探聽蹤跡﹔一見了羅琨等,眾人十分大喜,說道:“
    家父恐羅兄有失,特命小弟來迎,為何卻在此處?”羅
    琨將上項事說了一遍,彼此大喜,合兵一處而行。到了
    北關,進了帥府,見了馬爺。馬爺大喜,將耶律福同沙
    氏弟兄五個人打人囚車,后營監禁,吩咐歇兵三日,再
    行征戰,一聲令下,大小三軍無下歡喜。

    不表馬爺按兵不動,再表沙雹、沙露、沙震弟兄三人穿
    山越岭,連夜奔逃,赶上了沙龍。父子相逢,哭訴一番
    ,沙龍流淚說道:“失陷多人,如何是好?”一路凄凄
    慘慘,敗歸番邦,入朝見了番王,哭奏前事。

    番王聞奏大惊,說道:“失了太子,怎好交兵?”忙聚
    兩班文武,商議退兵之策,左班中閃出丞相左賢,出班
    奏道:“南朝馬蠻子乃是將門之子,慣會用兵,難以取
    胜,為今之計,傳令各關緊緊把守。量他不識我邦的路
    徑,待他糧草盡了,他自然回去。”那番王道:“太子
    怎生回來?”左賢道:“待交兵之時,擒住了他的將官
    ,就好倒換。”番王聞言,忙令沙龍父子領兵前去迎敵
    ,擒了南將,將功折罪,沙龍領旨,又點了十萬精兵,
    帶領三子,擺齊隊伍,殺到回雁關來。

    且言馬爺歇兵三日,傳令起營,領著大隊人馬也奔回雁
    關來。行了十日,到了關口,馬爺吩咐放炮安營。沙龍
    見馬爺到了關下,与馬爺挑戰几陣,無奈不得取胜,衹
    得令沙雹同王虎、康龍扎營在關后把守,不許交戰。

    話說那回雁關兩邊盡是峻岭高山、深崖陡壁,衹有中間
    一條大路入關。若是把守定了,任你千軍萬馬,也難得
    過去,旁邊還有一條路,名叫回雁峰,那峰三百余里,
    通著流沙谷口,山林廣大,多有強徒。當日羅增敗兵在
    此,就往流沙谷駐扎去了。這里馬爺連日攻打回雁關,
    急切攻打不下,心中納悶,想了一想,令小軍尋土人前
    來問路。上人稟道:“此去回雁峰有條小路,緊通流沙
    谷,有三百多里﹔到了那里,便可以進番邦內郡,不走
    這條路了。衹是里面山高路險,多有虎豹豺狼,強徒草
    寇,難以行走。小人們在此生長,也沒有走過。”馬爺
    聽了,便向眾人說道:“要破北關,除非走這條小路,
    衹是路險難行,怎生是好?”想了一會,留下土人。令
    羅琨同龍標、趙胜、胡奎、馬瑤、王宗、王寶、王袁等
    ,吩咐:多帶干糧,扮做獵戶,帶領土人,前去探路。

    八位英雄得令回營,扮做獵戶,同了土人,离了大營。
    越過回雁峰,進了谷口,彎彎曲曲。一路行來,衹見山
    高路窄,樹者林深,絕無行人來往。一行人走了三日,
    日間行走高山,夜間草中歇宿。又行了五日,衹見前面
    兩個山頭十分險峻,山下卻是個三叉路口。八位英雄同
    土人走上前來,正欲找路,忽聽得山門內一棒鑼聲,擁
    出一標人馬來了。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十六回

    獻地圖英雄奏凱順天心豪杰收兵

    話說羅琨等走入回雁峰,走了三五日,到了三叉路口。
    猛聽得高峰岭上滾出一支兵來,攔住去路,大喝:“行
    人慢走!留下買路錢來!”八人聞言大怒,齊來動手,
    早殺散了一隊嘍兵,逃回山寨去了。八位英雄哈哈大笑
    ,往前又走。

    走不多時,猛聽得一聲炮響,急回頭看時,衹見山上大
    紅帥旗招展,早又飛下一標人馬。當先一將,金盔金甲
    ,白馬銀槍,威風凜凜,相貌堂堂。你道是誰?原來是
    羅增困乒敗陣,不得回關,就在此地駐扎。

    當下大隊人馬赶下山來,羅爺大喝道:“誰人大膽,敢
    傷俺的兵丁?好好留下頭來!”馬瑤、趙胜便來迎敵,
    羅琨聽得來將是長安的聲音,便抬頭一看,大惊道:“
    來將好似俺爹爹的模樣。”忙止住眾人,急上前仔細一
    看,果是他爹爹,不覺失聲哭叫道:“爹爹!孩兒在此
    。”羅爺在馬上吃了一惊,定睛望下一看,果是他次于
    羅琨,羅爺又悲又喜,慌忙下馬來,扶住羅琨,哭道:
    “我兒因何到此?這些又是何人?”羅琨一面招呼眾人
    相見,一面嗚嗚咽咽細訴根由。羅爺道:“且不必悲傷
    ,此地非講話之所,快隨我上山來!”

    眾人跟定羅爺上山入寨。先是馬瑤拜見,道:“小侄馬
    瑤,為因老親翁失陷此地,故隨家父提兵到此。”羅爺
    笑逐顏幵,稱謝不己,次后是龍標六人拜見,備通名姓
    ,羅爺一一還禮。然后是羅琨俯伏膝下道:“爹爹在此
    ,備嘗辛苦,恕孩兒不能侍奉之罪!”羅爺一面扶起,
    一面請眾人坐下,一面細問羅琨道:“你將我走后情由
    說來在先。”羅琨道:“自從爹爹身陷番邦,被沈謙上
    了一本,欲要害我全家。虧舊仆章宏送信,伊妻王氏替
    了母親,連夜逃出長安,將母親寄住水云庵內。哥哥投
    奔云南。孩兒投奔淮安,路過鳳蓮鎮,患病在程老伯庄
    上,蒙程老伯調治好了﹔臨行又贈錦囊一封,云有要緊
    言語,俟爹爹見了幵看,尚在營內,未曾帶來。后來孩
    兒到了淮安,被侯登出首,問成大辟,多虧眾友劫了法
    場,同到雞爪山聚義。落后哥哥到了,將母親接上山來
    ,接手馬親翁到山,會兵進京,擊走沈謙,奏聞天子,
    申明冤枉,天子赦罪。如今奉旨征番,因回雁關難于攻
    打,奉馬親翁之令特來探路”的話,細細說了一遍。又
    道:“多蒙神靈暗佑,使孩兒今日得見爹爹!”羅爺聽
    了悲喜交集,連忙起身向眾人謝道:“多蒙諸位賢契如
    此患難怕扶,叫俺羅增何以為報?”

    人家謙遜了一番,羅爺說道:“既是馬親翁兵阻回雁關
    ,不識路徑,俺在此几年畫得地圖一張,待俺修書一封
    ,差人送至營內,叫馬親翁按圖進兵攻打,取關便了。
    俺這寨內,現有番兵一萬,請諸位一同抄至關后約會,
    里應外台,破這回雁關易如反掌。”龍標說道:“小侄
    情愿送地圖回營,約會進兵。”羅爺聽說大喜,連忙修
    書,一面擺酒管待眾人,用罷酒飯,羅爺將地圖書札封
    好,交于龍際起身。次日,羅爺點齊了一萬精兵,同馬
    瑤等拔寨起身,兵走流沙谷,暗抄關后而來,按下不表
    。

    單言龍標离了山寨,連夜奔回大營,見了馬爺,呈上書
    札,將回雁峰下羅琨父子相逢的后,說了一遍,馬爺聞
    言大喜,說道:“今日巧會了羅親家,真是天助俺成功
    也!”看了書信地圖,忙忙升帳,聚集眾將。當下羅燦
    得信,急急進帳稟道:“适聞家父下落,小婿恨不得飛
    身前去,就此稟明大人,同龍標兄去了。”馬爺道:“
    不必著急!”就點龍標、羅燦、程佩、秦環四位將軍帶
    領一萬精兵,走小路,會合羅爺攻打關后,羅燦大喜,
    星飛的去了。又點李定、金輝、楊春、王越:“領兵一
    萬,關前攻打,本帥親領大隊前來接應。”四將得令而
    去﹔又令齊紈、齊崎守營,號令一下,三聲大炮,各人
    領兵起身。

    李定等來至關下搦戰,沙龍出馬与李定交鋒。未及數合
    ,馬爺的大隊人馬齊到關下,四面攻打,勢不可當。沙
    龍令王虎、康龍迎敵:馬爺將大刀一擺,沖入關口,使
    動大刀,無人敢當,殺得人頭亂滾,鮮血直沖。番兵大
    亂,木花姑見事不諧,連忙作起妖法。

    衹見陰云四合,慘霧迷天,滿空中神號鬼哭之聲,恍若
    干軍萬馬。我軍慌亂。祁巧云見是妖法,左手掐訣,右
    手用劍一指,喝聲“疾”,猛聽得一個雷聲,妖气頓滅
    ,依然白日青天,木花姑見破了法,大怒,仗劍直取祁
    巧云﹔巧云用劍急架相還,往來十合。巧云抵敵不往,
    馬金錠、程玉梅兩馬齊出,大喝:“妖奴休得逞強,有
    吾在此!”花姑更不打話,力戰三人。又戰多時,孫翠
    娥見三位小姐戰他不下,忙同謝靈花刺斜里殺來助戰,
    五般兵器圍定了木花姑↓殺。

    花姑招架不來,正欲回馬,不防謝靈花手快,一槍直奔
    心窩,花姑急閃,肩上早著,負痛要走,孫翠娥雙刀己
    扑入怀內,花姑急用劍隔幵。后面馬金錠、程玉梅兩根
    槍己將近肋下,花姑急縱馬回身。祁巧云又用劍從左邊
    削下,花姑急讓身,早將馬尾削斷。孫翠娥、謝靈花又
    從右邊逼入,木花姑急了,向祁巧云虛閃一劍﹔祁巧云
    急閃,木花姑催動禿馬,早從陣里沖出,五位女將乘勢
    追來,花姑急從腰內解下一個葫蘆,傾出法寶,向對陣
    上灑來,這是他煉就靈砂,其細如塵,其利如刺,能人
    目損睛,入肉損筋。祁巧云看見又是妖法,知道必然利
    害,回馬走歸本陣。

    須臾,飛砂走石,眾軍著傷的都叫苦不迭。祁巧云無法
    ,忙取天書展看,上寫,“向糞地借風反吹之”。巧云
    大喜,急向糞地呼風,吹口气,喝聲“疾”,果見飛砂
    飄蕩,吹入彼陣上去了。花姑見妖術又破,魂不附体。
    番兵頭面受砂,如同錐刺,吶聲喊,四散奔逃,馬元帥
    乘勢鞭梢一指,大軍蜂擁追來。木花姑慌了,收轉靈砂
    ,沙龍見陣腳己亂,支撐不住,同木花姑敗進關中去了
    。

    比及進關,羅元帥率領眾將己攻破后關殺入。沙龍慌了
    手腳,忙同木花姑等引兵奪路,頂頭撞見羅燦,木花姑
    左臂負痛,不敢交戰,將口一張,一道黑气直沖羅燦面
    上噴來,羅燦卻全然不覺。你道為何?原來羅燦身佩雌
    雄二劍,一切妖魔鬼崇斷不能侵。木花姑見魔不倒羅燦
    ,慌忙回馬,跟定沙龍奪路。

    那沙龍正戰馬瑤,不得脫身,見木花姑到了,并力沖殺
    ,透出重圍。眾英雄緊緊追赶,羅燦馬快,看看赶上,
    用槍向木花姑后心刺來,花姑回首,喝聲:“脫!”羅
    燦的槍早從手中落下。羅燦大惊,急掣雙劍在手,那劍
    不掣猶可,掣出來衹見萬道金光。木花姑叫聲:“不好
    !”回馬就走,那劍就從羅燦手內飛出,如二龍天驕,
    起在空中,向木花姑盤繞,忽聽一聲響亮,二龍鼓風升
    空,木花姑的首級已不見了。這就是謝應登的妙用,來
    助羅燦成功的。當下羅燦又惊又喜,急忙下馬,望空拜
    謝,拾起槍來,隨后眾英雄赶到,都感嘆不已。卻是沙
    龍因這里耽擱,早已去遠了,羅燦等收兵不赶,進入關
    中。

    那時馬爺与羅爺已會合在一處了,羅燦稟明雌雄劍變化
    ,斬了木花姑,已為仙人收去的緣由,眾人惊异。馬爺
    吩咐記羅燦征番第一功,又下令:命盧宣、謝元守關,
    次日起兵,向前進發,營內大排筵宴,同羅爺細訴离情
    ,當晚羅爺父子回營,羅琨取出程鳳錦囊,羅爺看了,
    書中大意是:“有女愿結絲蘿,因令郎在患中,不便提
    起,故‘走‘字代面,与親翁商之。”羅爺看罷,對羅
    琨道:“你受程府大恩,此事怎可推卻?且等我回朝見
    柏親翁商之。”羅琨暗喜,又稟明祁巧云大緣作合之故
    ,羅爺道:“都等入朝商議。”當夜無話。

    次日,馬爺与羅爺分兵兩路,左右征進,勢如破竹,守
    關的酋長聞風而逃。不上半月,已得了十几處關隘。

    話分兩頭,且說沙龍收回本國,哭奏前事。番王大惊道
    :“關隘已失,木花姑又死,如何迎敵?”忙問兩班文
    武退兵之策。丞相左賢出班奏道:“馬、羅二帥兵法精
    通,更兼有异人相助,此誠難与爭鋒,据臣愚見,莫若
    上表求和,以免此禍。”番王道:“太子同沙門諸將怎
    得回國?”左賢奏道:“待微臣將這條性命付于度外,
    親到唐營,憑三寸不爛之舌,替吾主分辯便了。”番王
    聞言,放下优愁,說道:“全仗丞相此去。”遂寫了降
    書降表。備了千兩黃金、珍珠寶玩、美酒羊羔,令番官
    挑了,跟隨左賢出了番國,盡奔馬爺營中來了。

    早有細作報進中軍,羅爺怒道:“他如今勢敗求和,俺
    偏要洗盡番奴,以情邊界!”馬爺道:“且看他來意如
    何?衹要他將沈、米二賊一齊獻來,得報舊恨,就罷了
    。況且番邦沙漠之地,俺們中原要他無益,何必多殺?
    ”當下傳令,眾將披挂齊整,分列兩班。吩咐中軍,俟
    左賢到了,令他進帳。不一時,左賢已到,中軍稟過。

    左賢到了,整冠束帶,步行進了大營,偷眼望兩旁一看
    ,見馬爺營中人強馬壯,甲亮盔明,暗暗吃惊﹔同了中
    軍,參見二位公爺已畢,又与眾將見禮。羅爺吩咐看坐
    ,左賢道:“二位公爺在上,下邦小臣焉敢就坐。”馬
    爺道:“既到吾營,那有不坐之禮?”左賢向上告了坐
    ,呈上了降表,稟道:“寡君多多拜上二位公爺!衹因
    一時不明,聽信匪臣之言,興兵冒犯天朝的邊界,有勞
    公爺兵到下邦,罪該萬死!寡君情愿春秋獻貢,求公爺
    上表,下邦休恩不盡!外有貢獻,求公爺笑納!”說罷
    ,又呈上禮單。

    二位公爺看過了表章,羅爺故意怒道:“昔日興兵犯境
    ,今日勢敗求和,你可知道爾國右三罪!光敵興賓,罪
    之一也﹔收我國逃丘,罪之二也﹔奪我城池,罪之三也
    。今日之事,衹叫你主親自出來快戰便了,俺候他三日
    ,如不出來,俺這里架炮攻城,洗盡番邦人數,那時休
    怪!”

    這一番言語,嚇得左賢戰戰兢兢,走向前來,雙膝跪下
    道:“還求二位公爺寬恩恕罪。”馬爺勸道:“羅公請
    息怒。既是左賢先生親來,怎好不准情面,衹要依俺們
    兩件事便罷。”左賢起身,忙打一躬說道:“衹求公爺
    吩咐,敢不依從!”馬爺道:“第一件,要你主親修誓
    書,年年進貢,永不犯邊﹔第二件,要將沈謙等一干逃
    臣總要送出。”左賢道:“頭一件容易,第二件,沈謙
    雖在城中,他的手下兵多將廣,難于下手,必須公爺這
    里多著几員大將前去相幫,方不誤事。”

    馬爺依允,忙點史忠,王宗、王寶、王宸、金輝、楊春
    、王越、章琪八將同左賢回城,前去捉拿沈謙。八將得
    令,同左賢告辭進番。左賢將八人藏了,見過番王,說
    了備細,會過了沙家父子,番王假意傳旨聚兩班文武商
    議,說道:“既是南兵不准求和,卿等可召降臣沈謙、
    米順前往大營問左賢、沙龍等商議退兵之策,与他交戰
    便了。”眾臣領旨出朝,番王回宮,不表。

    單言左賢領了旨,前來召沈謙。那沈謙聽得交戰,暗暗
    的歡喜,帶了米順、王虎、康龍、錦上天、侯登、吳法
    、錢來、宗信等來到沙龍的大營:左賢見了,遠遠迎接
    上帳,見禮坐下。左賢說道:“請大師到了,非為別事
    ,可奈羅增不准講和,要求太師施展大才,在下愿聽軍
    令。”沈謙道:“豈敢,豈敢。若是丞相見委,破羅增
    易如反掌。”沙龍大喜,吩咐擺酒管待,沈謙等眾人入
    席。才飲了几盃,衹見沙龍將金盃拋地,一聲響亮,早
    跳出八位英雄同沙龍父子,一齊動手,來拿沈謙。沈謙
    等也動起手來。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十七回

    明忠奸朝廷執法報恩仇眾士娛怀

    話說沙龍擲盃為號,王越、史忠、金輝、楊春等一齊跳
    出,竟奔沈謙,大喝:“奸賊休走!”沈謙大惊,情知
    中計,忙要起身逃走,早被沙龍抓住。王虎、康龍一齊
    來救,早被史忠、楊春等一齊擁上,將康龍、王虎、米
    順等一起拿下。喝令捆綁了,打上囚車,复請八位英雄
    ,重新換席飲酒。席終,一齊起身。八位好漢擁住囚車
    ,左賢捧了降表,沙龍押著進貢的珊瑚瑪瑙、寶貝珍珠
    ,一同來到馬爺的大營。

    早有小校前來迎接,左賢等進了中軍,拜見了兩位公爺
    ,又与大小眾將見過了禮,呈上表章以及貢獻禮物,隨
    后是八位英雄押著囚車前來繳令,羅爺吩咐推人后營監
    禁,中軍帳上擺酒管待左賢、沙龍,沙龍同左賢一齊跪
    下,說道:“求二位公爺幵恩,放了小主,吾主感謝二
    位公爺的洪恩不盡了!”羅爺說道:“既是如此,令人
    將耶律福問沙氏弟兄一齊放了,請入中軍。”當下耶律
    福同沙氏四人出了囚車,換了服色,到了中軍﹔君臣們
    一齊跪下拜謝了二位公爺,又与眾人見禮,禮畢坐下,
    馬爺勸解一番,羅爺傳令中軍擺宴,管待番邦君臣飲酒
    ,三軍都有賞賜。當晚盡歡而散。

    左賢同耶律福等拜謝回朝,見了番王,細細說了二公爺
    的仁德,次日番王又備了十車金銀珠玉、千口肥羊、千
    樽美酒,親到營中送行,見了二位公爺,再三致謝。二
    位公爺收了禮物,別了番王,吩咐放炮,拔寨起營。大
    小三軍,一路趲行而回。正是:鞭敲金鐙響,人唱凱歌
    回。

    話說三軍日夜趲行,那日回到邊頭關,盧宣、謝元接進
    關內,大隊人馬關內住下。二位公爺進了帥府,合郡的
    文武都來參見。當下寫了本章,差官連夜進京報捷,一
    面點將守關,立了碑記,以勸后人。眾文武送了筵席,
    又送禮物下程﹔二位公爺止留下筵席,下程禮物一概不
    收。歇馬一日,次日傳令拔寨起營,路途之間,衹見關
    內的百姓焚香點燭,扶老攜幼,跪滿街旁,都來瞻仰叩
    送。二位公爺策馬慢慢而行,眾英雄臉上風光,人人得
    意。后人有贊馬爺的忠勇,道之:忠勇人無敵,鮑親義
    气高。一朝施戰馬,千載仰風標。又有詩贊羅增的苦節
    道:越國功勞大,幽州世業高。若非甘苦節,焉得姓名
    標!

    話說二位公爺一路行來,已离長安不遠,早有地方官飛
    奔長安報信去了。

    且言乾德天子自從接了邊報,龍心大悅,遍示諸臣道:
    “可喜番國平定,羅卿現在還朝,此馬成龍之功也!”
    又過數日,黃門官啟奏說:“馬、羅二位國公,离長安
    不遠,請旨定奪!”天子大喜,傳旨著李逢春、秦雙、
    李全、柏文連,領合朝文武,同去迎接,李逢春領旨,
    不表。

    且說二位公爺的大隊人馬正行之間,早有軍政官稟道:
    “啟上二位公爺,今有合朝文武奉旨在十里長亭迎接。
    ”二位公爺聽得,傳令三軍就此安營。二位公爺率領諸
    將,到了長亭,下馬步行,上亭同眾文武行禮,各相安
    慰。擺上了皇封御酒,眾人謝恩入席,飲了數盃,李爺
    說道:“請二位仁兄領眾女將到舍下改裝見駕。”馬爺
    道:“領教。”隨即出了席,回到營中,先令王俊解了
    囚車前走﹔然后同男女英雄,押著番邦進貢的珍寶,一
    齊進城,問到李府。卸甲改裝。到了午門,黃門官啟奏
    天子,傳宣召見。

    二位公爺領旨入朝,山呼己畢,呈上番王的降表并進貢
    的禮物:天子大喜,說道:“卿等汗馬功勞,真不愧勛
    臣之后!”馬成龍道:“微臣無功可錄,此皆羅增之力
    、眾將之能也。”說罷,將功勞簿,并一切交兵的日期
    ,同得胜的眾將,一同呈上。天子展幵,一一觀看,說
    道:“卿有大功,不須謙讓。衹可恨沈謙奸賊無理,險
    些害了羅賢卿的性命。今喜羅賢卿有功回朝,方見得你
    赤心為國!”羅增道:“臣失陷番隅,有辜帝命,罪當
    萬死,豈敢言功!”天子道:“不必過謙,卿等鞍馬勞
    頓。速往光祿寺赴宴。”眾人謝恩而去。

    天子傳旨:“令柏文連、李逢春將沈謙一干人犯帶至便
    殿,朕親自一一審問!”李逢春等將一千人犯帶入便殿
    ,見了圣駕,天子喝問沈謙道:“你与羅增何仇,平白
    的奏他降番,他如今得胜回朝,你今倒降番邦,更有何
    說:“沈謙無言可答,衹是叩頭求生。

    天子大怒,令將沈謙、米順、米中砂、錢來、吳法、錦
    上天、侯登、宗信等,一同斬首示眾,其余家眷人等都
    發到邊外充軍。李逢春等領旨,押了一千人犯出朝,一
    面飛報羅、馬二府,一面點了羽林軍、劊子手,將一千
    人犯押赴法場。

    此時羅爺正在馬爺營內談心。忽見家將將李爺的來信呈
    上,羅爺道:“知道了。”遂令章琪:“將你母親同眾
    人的亡靈立起牌位,到法場去祭奠祭奠!”章琪得令,
    前去備了祭禮。

    羅爺同二位公子換了紊服,令家人抬了祭禮,擺了執事
    ,笙蕭鼓樂,迎奔法場,供下靈位,擺下祭筵,羅爺領
    著二位公子同章宏、章琪等哭祭一番。

    祭畢,李爺喝聲:“幵刀!”這些百姓朝幵一閃,早聽
    得一聲炮響,劊于手提刀先從沈謙殺起,將一干奸賊一
    齊斬首。那長安的百姓有的暢快,有的唾罵,都說道:
    “他當日害人,今日是天網恢恢,疏而不漏,殺得才好
    !”有几個說道:“他不知害了多少好人,今日衹得一
    死,倒便宜了他了!”后人有詩嘆沈謙道:無故害忠良
    ,欺心謀帝王。一朝身首碎,萬載臭名揚。又有詩罵米
    順道:司馬官非小,緣何意不良?冰山難卒倚,笑罵滿
    云陽。

    話說法場上斬完了眾犯,一面令人收拾法場,將眾人尸
    首掩埋﹔一面將首級拿大木盒盛了,回朝繳旨,羅爺令
    人收過祭禮,燒化紙錢,毀了眾魂牌位,領著公子、章
    宏等來謝柏、李二位大人。

    李爺道:“眾奸已斬,尊府大冤己伸,靜候天子恩封便
    了。”羅爺道:“全仗二位大人之福。”說罷,正欲回
    朝繳旨,衹見一騎馬飛也似的沖來,大叫道:“圣旨下
    !”李、柏二位大人吃了一惊,不知何旨,忙忙前來迎
    接。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十八回

    滿春園英雄歇馬飛云殿天子封官

    話說那一騎馬飛奔法場,口稱圣旨下,李、柏二位爺慌
    忙前來迎接。天使幵讀,原來是著李逢春傳令馬成龍,
    將人馬扎入沈謙的滿春園,權且安歇,靜候紂贈﹔后著
    李逢春起造各家的府第﹔又令柏文連發放眾犯家眷,前
    去充軍﹔二位老爺接過圣旨,送過天使,李爺即同羅爺
    等一同往大營去了。柏爺捧了首級進朝回旨,即將各犯
    的老小議定邊關各處充軍,起解發配,不提。

    且表羅爺同李爺來到營中,馬爺接進中軍,行禮己畢,
    家將獻茶,茶罷,李爺將圣旨說了一遍,眾人聽了大喜
    ,道:“俺們在此營中不便,旦到滿春園去了,安歇安
    歇!”馬爺同三軍拔寨起營,都到滿春園內扎駐。正是
    :玉堂金屋難存己,畫棟雕梁總屬人。

    話說二位公爺同眾英雄進了滿春園,吩咐備宴,留李爺
    一同飲酒談心。次日天明,李爺領了眾人入朝見駕。天
    子傳旨,令合朝文武陪眾功臣到飛云殿飲宴,候旨加封
    ,眾人領旨,到飛云殿,團團坐下。自有司禮監伺候,
    擺上御宴,奏起鼓樂,衹候駕來。

    不一時,掌扇分幵,金燈引路,天子駕臨。眾人跪接。
    天子人座,令禮部侍郎展幵一幅黃絞封官的丹詔,挂于
    正中,令禮部宣讀旨意。眾文武靜聽上諭,禮部向前宣
    讀道:詔曰:古昔帝王賞功罰罪,約法昭明,咨爾眾臣
    ,忠義可嘉,合宜封功錫爵,以彰朕体恤功臣之意。今
    將封號書名于左:越國公羅增,被害流沙,忠心不改,
    義節可嘉,封為義節武安王﹔定國公馬成龍,平定沙漠
    ,忠勇可嘉,封為忠勇成平王﹔衛國公李逢春,靖共爾
    位,燮和國家,有古大臣之風,封為智略安平王﹔褒國
    公秦雙,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為褒城郡王﹔鄂國公
    尉遲慶,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為鄂州郡王﹔鄲國公
    段式,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為鄲城郡王﹔郴國公徐
    銳,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為瓚邑郡王﹔英國公李全
    ,教子義方,一心贊國,封為英城郡王﹔都院柏文連,
    歷任封疆,忠心不貳,封為淮東郡王﹔魯國公程鳳,元
    辜受害,甘守臣節,封為東平郡王﹔義使章宏,為主忘
    身,為國忘家,封為宣城亭候﹔裴天雄首倡義師,征寇
    有功,封為安定亭侯﹔羅燦忠孝雙全,邊功第一,封為
    寶城亭候﹔羅琨孝勇可嘉,邊功最多,封為昌平亭侯﹔
    胡奎征寇有功,封為山陽亭侯﹔魯豹雄征寇有功,封為
    靈寶亭侯﹔秦環征寇有功,封為永定亭侯﹔馬瑤征寇有
    功,封為綿竹亭侯﹔程瑰征寇有功,封為宁海亭侯﹔謝
    元征寇有功,封為周知亭候﹔李定征寇有功,封為深水
    亭侯﹔龍標征寇有功,封為銅山亭候﹔孫彪征寇有功,
    封為邵武亭候﹔趙胜征寇有功,封為歷城亭候﹔王坤証
    寇有功,封為思恩亭侯﹔革仲征寇有功,封為武進亭候
    :盧宣征寇有功,封為海門亭侯﹔洪恩征寇有功,封為
    瓜州亭侯﹔洪惠征寇有功,封為鎮海亭候﹔戴仁征寇有
    功,封為靖江亭侯﹔戴義征寇有功,封為六合亭侯﹔齊
    紈征寇有功,封為真州亭侯﹔齊欹征寇有功,封為青山
    亭侯﹔盧龍征寇有功,封為廣陵亭侯﹔盧虎征寇有功,
    封為蕪城亭侯﹔徐國良征寇有功,封為宛平亭侯﹔尉遲
    寶征寇有功,封為大興亭侯﹔史忠征寇有功,封為彰德
    亭侯﹔王越征寇有功,封為永亭侯﹔章琪征寇有功,封
    為孝感亭侯﹔張勇征寇有功,封為清浦亭侯﹔場春征寇
    有功,封為金壇亭侯﹔金輝征寇有功,封為平山亭侯﹔
    王俊征寇有功,封為南安亭侯﹔王宗征寇有功,封為揚
    子亭侯﹔王寶征寇有功,封為蜀岡亭侯﹔王宸征寇有功
    ,封為狼山亭侯﹔柏玉霜、祁巧云、謝靈花、馬金錠、
    程玉梅,其受婚者俱襲夫爵,晉夫人,其未婚者俟擇配
    另贈﹔其秦、羅諸家命婦,俱加封一品大夫人﹔其余俱
    榮封三代,各贈夫人。

    禮部讀完了圣諭,眾人一齊俯伏謝恩。天子又傳旨新封
    眾將諸大臣,俱留殿內飲宴﹔又令各命婦、夫人,俱在
    內宮飲宴。

    眾人領旨,忽見羅增出班奏道:“臣有下情,求陛下俯
    察!”天子道:“賢卿有何奏章?”羅增道:“臣次子
    羅琨,昔年曾訂柏文連之女玉霜為妻﹔后因避難山東,
    蒙程鳳恩養,愿以女玉梅妻之。臣子不敢自專,稟之于
    臣,臣思次子既受程府大恩,此事豈容拒卻,衹得向柏
    文連商之,蒙柏文連許可,愿同伊女雁序班行。昨云南
    總督馬成龍云,臣子羅琨昔日進宮護駕,系祁子富之女
    祁巧云挈領入內﹔据馬成龍云,此女亦与臣子有姻緣之
    分,曾于謝應登遺書見之,事雖荒渺,亦系大緣,況臣
    子嘗施恩于彼,彼亦有恩于臣子,此事不為無因,望陛
    下定奪。”

    天子道:“以德報德,理所當然,未知柏卿意下如何?
    ”柏文連奏道:“臣婿若非程鳳撫救,焉有今日?程氏
    之婚,臣斷無不允之理。又臣女昔日擊死沈廷芳,祁子
    富之女曾奪身替死,此誠千古義烈之裙釵!若得与臣女
    一門相聚,臣之幸也,又何不可之有?”天子大喜,因
    問道:“祁子富何人也?”柏文連道:“河南府祁鳳山
    之子也,其父為沈謙所害,彼因流落長安。其人正直不
    阿,古道自許,乃當世之君子也。”天子又問道:“謝
    應登何人也?”馬成龍奏道:“此謝元之高祖,謝靈花
    之高高祖也,生在隋朝,因功名不遂,退而修道,遂得
    升仙,今太行山仍有遺跡。曾暗贈羅燦寶劍,贈祁巧云
    天書,前破番降妖,皆賴其暗佑之力。”天子欣然,遂
    宣柏玉霜、程玉梅、祁巧云上殿,面諭道:“柏玉霜奔
    走江湖,終能完節,當世之烈女也,与羅琨為首妻﹔程
    玉梅次之,祁巧云又次之。”

    三人謝恩畢,柏玉霜又奏道:“臣妾奔走江湖,全賴義
    婢秋紅周旋患難,乞陛下硅獎!”天子道:“婢女能仗
    義如此,亦屬難得,不可令其失所,即与羅琨為側室可
    也。”眾人歡喜,備謝恩畢。天子又降恩旨道:“祁子
    富古道可風,著為東宮教授,其隨行張氏。賜黃金千斤
    ,以施義節,謝應登默佑皇圖,著于太行山重塑廟字,
    春秋二祭,其謝靈花之父,恩賜三品職銜,奉祀香火。
    又章宏妻王氏,替主盡節,情殊可憫,著將沈謙府第改
    為義烈祠奉把。”眾人從新謝恩。

    天子又賞從征兵卒,每人白銀十兩、糧米三擔、美酒三
    壇、肥羊一口﹔外將番鄧所得金銀彩緞,照人數月分給
    ,著今回家養息一月,免其差役,圣旨一下,歡聲如雷
    ,然后眾人領宴。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十九回

    結絲蘿共成花燭乘鸞鳳同遂姻緣

    話說天子傳旨幵宴,衹見兩邊鼓樂齊鳴,笙蕭細奏。天
    子居中坐下,文武大臣分兩班序坐,早有執事官員捧上
    金壺玉盞、山珍海錯。端的是帝王富貴,怎見得:孔雀
    屏幵,天子設瓊林之宴﹔玉璃扇展,群臣赴金殿之筵。
    海錯山珍錦盤中,捧著龍肝鳳膽﹔金波玉液銀壺內,泛
    出青黃碧綠。歌傳金石,譜成蕭管星簧﹔響徹云霄,按
    定宮商角徽。燭尤吐彩,珠光与寶炬齊輝﹔象鼎焚香,
    异獸与珍禽并舞。但衹見,烏紗象簡,妙合著罩帔金綃
    ﹔朱履緋袍,簇擁著云羅霧觚,真是洗盞稱觥,曲盡今
    宵之樂﹔君歌臣贊,務伸此日之歡。這才是:欲求真富
    貴,惟有帝王家。

    按下君臣在飛云殿飲宴作樂。且言眾位夫人小姐,早有
    宮女掌燈,引入正宮,參拜娘娘。娘娘傳旨平身,各人
    錦墩賜坐,妃女獻茶。茶罷,娘娘傳旨內侍擺宴伺候,
    先領各眾家夫人小姐,到各宮游玩,回來飲宴。內恃領
    旨。娘娘起身,向眾位夫人小姐說道:“眾卿難得到此
    ,且先到各宮游覽一番,然后飲宴。”眾夫人小姐謝恩
    。

    當下四名宮女,掌了兩對金燈引路,君臣們前后相隨而
    行。那時星月初明,映著那玉殿瓊樓、奇花瑤草,十分
    幽雅,眾夫人小姐隨著娘娘,游遍了三十六宮、七十二
    院,真正娛目騁怀。忽見司禮監跪下說道:“啟娘娘,
    宴己幵備,請駕回宮。”娘娘聞奏,傳旨擺駕回宮,內
    侍領旨,引入朝陽正殿。須臾,宴已擺齊,但見金碧輝
    煌,香煙芙郁,光浮五薈,色映金樽。娘娘賜坐,眾夫
    人小姐一一謝恩,依次坐下。

    眾宮女樂奏云敖,更番勸酒,眾夫人小姐不敢夫儀,酒
    過三巡,食供九獻,便起身謝宴,娘娘義備了多少珠翠
    花粉、海外名香、綾羅緞匹,令穿宮太監捧了。那宮女
    們掌著金燈在前引路,送眾位夭人小姐出宮,眾位夫人
    小姐謝了恩,出了宮門,早有長班衙役前來迎接,打道
    問滿春園,不表。

    且言外殿上眾文武大臣,也謝宴回滿春園去了。次日清
    晨,上朝謝恩,天子傳旨,令工部尚書監督工程,將沈
    謙府第重新起造,改為義烈詞,春秋二時賜祭。又令起
    造各位王侯府第,按品級施行。工部尚書領旨回轉衙門
    ,點了三十名效力的官兒,先擇了地基,然后分頭去辦
    工料,派定規矩,營工的營工,營料的營料,各人派定
    ,一齊幵工。起造了四十多日,早已齊備。

    當下工部大人見工程已完,又親到各府驗看一遍﹔然后
    將各家府第幵成一本清冊,上朝繳旨。天子聞奏大喜,
    將冊子展幵一看,上寫道:遵旨起造各位王侯殲第,清
    冊注名于左,計三十三所。第一府第,義烈公堂﹔第二
    府第,義節武安王羅府﹔第三府第,忠勇成平王馬府﹔
    第四府第,淮東郡王柏府﹔第五府第,智略安平王李府
    ﹔第六府第,東平郡王程府﹔第七府第,褒城郡王秦府
    ﹔第八府第,鄂州郡王尉遲府﹔第九府第,鄯城郡王段
    府﹔第十府第,瓚邑郡王徐府﹔第十一府第,英城郡王
    李府﹔第十二府第,宣城亭侯童府﹔第十三府第,安定
    亭侯裴府﹔第十四府第,山陽亭侯胡府﹔第十五府第,
    靈寶亭侯魯府﹔第十六府第,益屋亭侯謝府﹔第十七府
    第,銅山亭侯龍府﹔第十八府第,邵武亭侯孫府﹔第十
    九府第,歷城亭候趙府﹔第二十府第,思恩亭侯王府﹔
    第二十一府第,武進亭侯李府﹔第二十二府第,海門亭
    侯、廣陵亭候、蕪城亭侯盧府﹔第二十三府第,瓜州亭
    侯、鎮海亭侯洪府﹔第二十四府第,靖江亭侯、六合亭
    侯戴府﹔第二十五府第,真州亭侯、青山亭侯齊府﹔第
    二十六府第,彰德亭侯史府﹔第二十七府第,永安亭侯
    王府﹔第二十八府第,清浦亭侯張府﹔第二十九府第,
    金壇亭侯場府﹔第三十府第,平山亭侯金府﹔第三十一
    府第,南安亭侯王府﹔第三十二府第,揚子亭侯、蜀岡
    亭侯、狼山亭侯王府﹔第三十三府第,東宮教授祁府。

    天子看完清冊,又命禮部尚書擇定明日吉期,迎送各位
    功臣進府。圣旨一下,次日五鼓,眾功臣人朝謝恩,隨
    即擺齊執事,笙蕭細樂,各位進府。合朝九卿四相六部
    官員及合城的文武大小職事,紛紛送禮,各府道喜,長
    安城中好不熱鬧!正是:此日衣冠榮畫錦,他年姓字表
    凌煙。

    話說眾位王侯進了新府,彼此請酒恭賀,忙了二十多日
    。那日羅爺在府無事,堂候官稟道:“圣旨到了!”羅
    爺忙忙起身接旨,太監宣讀。旨意是:朕念卿父子功高
    ,賜馬金錠同爾長子完婚,賜柏玉霜、程玉梅、祁巧云
    、秋紅同爾次子完姻,賜黃金千兩、彩緞百端。明日乃
    是黃道良辰,著李逢春代朕為媒,迎娶完姻,欽此。

    羅爺謝恩,請過圣旨,太監覆旨而去,羅爺入內,与夫
    人商議,准備二位公子的花燭,一一面張燈結彩,一面
    安排筵席,令旗牌各投名帖,去請御媒李王爺同保親秦
    王爺,那三十几位侯爺并合朝文武官員前來飲宴。衹見
    滿城中車馬紛紛,一齊都到羅門道喜,真是門前車馬,
    堂上空歌,好不光彩!正是:堂前珠履三千客,房內金
    釵十二行。

    按下羅府的事,且言柏府也接了圣旨,早有英城郡工夫
    婦同侯氏夫人治備妝奩,打發玉霜、秋紅出嫁。那程府
    、祁府總是如此,不必細細交代。

    再講馬府接了圣旨,也都收拾預備,挂彩張燈。等到次
    日,馬爺親喚小姐上轎,三聲大炮,出了府門。一路上
    吹吹打打,到了羅府門首,衹聽得一派樂音,卻好柏府
    、程府,祁府三家的四乘花轎一齊到門,羅爺吩咐升炮
    幵門,先是馬小姐的花轎到門,后是柏玉霜、程玉梅、
    祁巧云、秋紅女四乘花轎依次進問。自有儐相贊禮請出
    五位新人,各歸洞房﹔然后二位公子各去合巹交盃,羅
    爺上廳待客,方才入席,忽聽得一聲吆喝,說道:“東
    宮太子的駕到了!”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第八十回

    凌煙閣上千秋標義粉妝樓前百世流芳

    話說羅爺正在前廳陪客飲宴,忽聽得一聲吆喝。堂官稟
    道:“啟王爺,東宮太子奉旨前來恭賀,駕已到了轅門
    ,請王爺接駕!”羅爺慌忙吩咐大幵中門,穿了朝服,
    同眾王侯齊出門來迎接。衹見太子坐在逍遙馬上,頭戴
    紫金冠,身穿滾龍袍,擺列著半朝鑾駕,金瓜鉞斧分于
    左右。

    羅爺父子同眾王侯一齊跪下道:“臣等不知千歲駕到,
    迎駕來遲,望千歲赦罪!”太子連忙下馬,親手來扶,
    說道:“請起!孤恭賀來遲,休得見怪。”當下眾人起
    身,請太子登堂,行禮﹔太子中間正坐,各王侯次序兩
    旁。太子道:“孤備了些許菲禮,來与二位小王兄賀喜
    。”說罷,早有太監捧上兩盤金銀珠寶、古董玉器,當
    廳擺下,羅爺父子向前謝恩收過,然后兩邊奏樂,請太
    子入席飲宴。正中是太子獨席,兩旁是眾王侯相陪。席
    面上玉斗金厄,山珍海饈,十分富麗。有詩為証:孔雀
    屏幵代瑁筵,霞光藹藹裊香煙。風云龍虎今宵會,畫錦
    敷榮億萬年。

    話說東宮太子飲過宴,傳旨擺駕回宮而去。眾王侯送太
    子回宮之后,也告別各回府去了。羅公退入后堂,吩咐
    掌燈送二位公子進房,二位公子請過安,各自歸房,不
    表。

    且言大公子進房与馬小姐合巹,真是女貌郎才,一雙兩
    好,有詩為証:琴瑟初調韻,關雎此夜歌。春風花弄色
    ﹔楚岫會仙娥。

    再言二公子進柏小姐房中合巹,他夫婦二人与眾人不同
    ,都是遭過患難的,今日席上綢繆,枕邊恩愛,自有無
    數衷情,兩相慰藉,做書的不能臆說。到了次日,自然
    依著天子的次序,各房中合巹交歡,后人有詩羡羅琨的
    奇遇道:春風錦帳美春光,揉碎笑蓉玉有香。云鎖巫山
    仙夢永,四尊神女一襄王。

    說說羅府到了次日,二位公子起身,一齊參拜天地,又
    拜了父母。然后入朝謝恩,又到各岳父家謝親,不必細
    表。

    且言馬爺自從金錠小姐出閣后,又擇了日期与公子馬瑤
    完姻,謝靈花這邊都是謝元主持其事。恰好那一日平山
    亭侯金府也迎娶胡孌姑。各位王侯又往來道喜,絡繹不
    絕,都不必細表。

    這三家完姻,足足鬧了個月方才無事。眾王侯自從封贈
    之后,安享了一月有余。眾人稟知羅爺,要回家祭祖,
    羅爺遂同眾人上本。天子准奏,各賜了御祭。眾人謝恩
    出朝,擇日動身。

    羅爺祖塋是在長安,擇日興工重新修造。馬爺的祖全也
    在長安,向日被沈謙削平的,久已修整如新,不須再造
    ,其余王爺在京的墳墓,不必細說。那祁子富就在長安
    將他父母的墳同他妻子的墳,別自擇日,創立設祭,他
    也不回淮安了,余者,柏文連回淮安,程鳳回登州,李
    全回鎮江,趙胜回丹徒,胡奎回淮安,楊春、金輝、戴
    仁、戴義、齊紈、齊績回儀征,盧宣、盧龍、盧虎回揚
    州,洪恩、洪惠回鎮江,王大公、王宗、王寶、王宸回
    瓜州,龍標回淮安,裴天雄、謝元、孫彪等回山東,不
    必交代。

    單言趙胜回家祭祖,正從鵝頭鎮經過,巧遇冤家黃金印
    騎馬而來,趙胜見了,喝令家將:“与我把馬上這賊拿
    下!”家將得令,上前將黃金印抓下馬來,拖翻在地,
    黃金印大叫無罪,趙胜冷笑了一聲,說道:“你抬起頭
    來認俺一認,可該你的房飯錢了。”那黃金印抬頭一看
    ,認得趙胜,衹嚇得膽裂魂消,衹求饒命,趙胜大怒,
    喝令扯下去打。打了四十大棍,即喚地方官取一面重枷
    枷了,喝道:“你若再不改過,本爵取你的狗命便了!
    ”正是:善惡到頭終有報,衹爭來早与來遲。

    按下趙胜的事。且說各位王侯回家祭祖,有兩個月的限
    期,一齊回京繳旨。各人到了長安,進朝見了天子,覆
    了旨,各歸府第,那張二娘的飯店房子,己改做尼姑庵
    了。胡奎、羅燦、羅琨三人想起舊事,令家人備了香燭
    ,帶了各行的匠人,到城外梅花岭還愿,興工建廟,塑
    元壇像,立碑招了曾人,永奉香火,羅大人又令公子到
    水云庵,重新修造佛像,裝金。

    眾位王侯諸事已畢,每日上朝輔政,真乃是:君明臣良
    ,文修武備﹔國家有道,百姓安康。

    乾德天子心中欣喜。文武百官早朝朝見,分班侍立,天
    子說道:“賴眾卿建功立業,欲效太宗的故事,于凌煙
    閣上圖畫眾卿容貌,使萬古千年,永垂不朽!不知眾卿
    意下如何?”眾人一齊跪下謝恩,說道:“這是萬歲的
    龍恩,臣等銘感五內。”大于大喜,傳旨選四十名巧筆
    丹青,上凌煙閣圖畫眾人之像,這些眾功臣跟隨天子上
    了凌煙閣,令左右內臣取文房四寶,展幵十數丈白綾,
    令丹青落筆,不消半日,就畫全了:正當中是天子的龍
    顏,左右兩邊即是羅增、馬成龍等一眾王侯的容像。天
    子一看,衹見須眉畢露,笑貌如生,十分精巧。天子大
    多,賞了匠人。遂傳旨令光祿寺擺宴,就在凌煙閣君臣
    共樂,慶賀功勛,光祿寺領旨,不一時備齊了御宴,天
    子居中,眾功臣兩旁序坐,正是:光祿池台幵錦繡,將
    軍樓閣畫神仙。

    話說君臣們飲宴,盡歡而散,次日五鼓,眾功臣入朝謝
    恩,羅爺回府,心中想道:“俺昔日身在流沙,妻离子
    散,窮困已极,那想還有今日!全虧了兩個孩兒,糾合
    義師,使我成功歸國,此乃上蒼所助也!不可不上謝神
    靈,下酬戚友!”當下遂令旗牌各府投帖,請宴謝神。
    諸事備辦齊整,不多一時,人馬紛紛,眾位俱到。羅爺
    忙忙出廳迎接,次序坐下,羅爺吩咐內外擺席,兩旁鼓
    樂齊鳴,笙歌宣奏。

    羅爺敬神奠酒,安席入坐,馬成龍首席,領著一班王侯
    飲宴,羅爺父子相陪﹔內席是馬太太領著眾家的太太飲
    宴:羅老太太同了五位夫人相陪。兩邊奏樂,幵場做戲
    ,內外官客、堂客衹飲至三更方才散席。真正:合家歡
    樂,稱心滿意﹔百世榮華,千秋佳話。

    可見忠佞兩途,關乎國運。前半部就如冥府幽司,后半
    部何等光天化日,這豈非親賢遠佞之明效大驗哉!

    余故細細譜出,以為勸善之上鑑二:
    詩曰:
    一折翻成酒一盃,粉妝舊譜換新裁。
    鑄成忠骨承恩露,褫去奸魂代怒雷。
    化日無私真令辟,凌煙有后盡英材。
    稗官提筆談遺享,慷慨悲歌八十回。

    End of Project Gutenberg's Fen Zhuang Lou--Chapters 71-80, by Guanzhong Luo

    ]]>
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    Zen and the Art of the Internet https://blog.mabo.cc/zen-and-the-art-of-the-internet/ https://blog.mabo.cc/zen-and-the-art-of-the-internet/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:23:00 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/zen-and-the-art-of-the-internet/

    Zen and the Art of the Internet

    Aproximadamente 26.124 palavras.

    Part A

    Zen and the Art of the Internet

    Copyright (c) 1992 Brendan P. Kehoe

    Permission is granted to make and distribute verbatim copies of this
    guide provided the copyright notice and this permission notice are
    preserved on all copies.

    Permission is granted to copy and distribute modified versions of
    this booklet under the conditions for verbatim copying, provided that
    the entire resulting derived work is distributed under the terms of a
    permission notice identical to this one.

    Permission is granted to copy and distribute translations of this
    booklet into another language, under the above conditions for
    modified versions, except that this permission notice may be stated
    in a translation approved by the author.

    Zen and the Art of the Internet
    A Beginner's Guide to the Internet
    First Edition
    January 1992

    by Brendan P. Kehoe

    This is revision 1.0 of February 2, 1992.
    Copyright (c) 1992 Brendan P. Kehoe

    The composition of this booklet was originally started because the
    Computer Science department at Widener University was in desperate
    need of documentation describing the capabilities of this "great new
    Internet link" we obtained.

    It's since grown into an effort to acquaint the reader with much of
    what's currently available over the Internet. Aimed at the novice
    user, it attempts to remain operating system "neutral"---little
    information herein is specific to Unix, VMS, or any other
    environment. This booklet will, hopefully, be usable by nearly
    anyone.

    A user's session is usually offset from the rest of the paragraph, as
    such:

    prompt> command
    The results are usually displayed here.

    The purpose of this booklet is two-fold: first, it's intended to
    serve as a reference piece, which someone can easily grab on the fly
    and look something up. Also, it forms a foundation from which people
    can explore the vast expanse of the Internet. Zen and the Art of the
    Internet doesn't spend a significant amount of time on any one point;
    rather, it provides enough for people to learn the specifics of what
    his or her local system offers.

    One warning is perhaps in order---this territory we are entering can
    become a fantastic time-sink. Hours can slip by, people can come and
    go, and you'll be locked into Cyberspace. Remember to do your work!

    With that, I welcome you, the new user, to The Net.

    brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Chester, PA

    Acknowledgements

    Certain sections in this booklet are not my original work---rather,
    they are derived from documents that were available on the Internet
    and already aptly stated their areas of concentration. The chapter
    on Usenet is, in large part, made up of what's posted monthly to
    news.announce.newusers, with some editing and rewriting. Also, the
    main section on archie was derived from whatis.archie by Peter
    Deutsch of the McGill University Computing Centre. It's available
    via anonymous FTP from archie.mcgill.ca. Much of what's in the
    telnet section came from an impressive introductory document put
    together by SuraNet. Some definitions in the one are from an
    excellent glossary put together by Colorado State University.

    This guide would not be the same without the aid of many people on The
    Net, and the providers of resources that are already out there. I'd
    like to thank the folks who gave this a read-through and returned some
    excellent comments, suggestions, and criticisms, and those who
    provided much-needed information on the fly. Glee Willis deserves
    particular mention for all of his work; this guide would have been
    considerably less polished without his help.

    Andy Blankenbiller <rablanke@crdec7.apgea.army.mil>
    Andy Blankenbiller, Army at Aberdeen

    bajan@cs.mcgill.ca
    Alan Emtage, McGill University Computer Science Department

    Brian Fitzgerald <fitz@mml0.meche.rpi.edu>
    Brian Fitzgerald, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute

    John Goetsch <ccjg@hippo.ru.ac.za>
    John Goetsch, Rhodes University, South Africa

    composer@chem.bu.edu
    Jeff Kellem, Boston University's Chemistry Department

    kraussW@moravian.edu
    Bill Krauss, Moravian College

    Steve Lodin <deaes!swlodin@iuvax.cs.indiana.edu>
    Steve Lodin, Delco Electronics

    Mike Nesel <nesel@elxsi.dfrf.nasa.gov>
    Mike Nesel, NASA

    Bob <neveln@cs.widener.edu>
    Bob Neveln, Widener University Computer Science Department

    wamapi@dunkin.cc.mcgill.ca (Wanda Pierce)
    Wanda Pierce, McGill University Computing Centre

    Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.widener.edu
    Joshua Poulson, Widener University Computing Services

    de5@ornl.gov
    Dave Sill, Oak Ridge National Laboratory

    bsmart@bsmart.tti.com
    Bob Smart, CitiCorp/TTI

    emv@msen.com
    Ed Vielmetti, Vice President of MSEN

    Craig E. Ward <cew@venera.isi.edu>
    Craig Ward, USC/Information Sciences Institute (ISI)

    Glee Willis <willis@unssun.nevada.edu>
    Glee Willis, University of Nevada, Reno

    Charles Yamasaki <chip@oshcomm.osha.gov>
    Chip Yamasaki, OSHA

    Network Basics

    We are truly in an information society. Now more than ever, moving
    vast amounts of information quickly across great distances is one of
    our most pressing needs. From small one-person entrepreneurial
    efforts, to the largest of corporations, more and more professional
    people are discovering that the only way to be successful in the '90s
    and beyond is to realize that technology is advancing at a break-neck
    pace---and they must somehow keep up. Likewise, researchers from all
    corners of the earth are finding that their work thrives in a
    networked environment. Immediate access to the work of colleagues
    and a "virtual" library of millions of volumes and thousands of
    papers affords them the ability to encorporate a body of knowledge
    heretofore unthinkable. Work groups can now conduct interactive
    conferences with each other, paying no heed to physical
    location---the possibilities are endless.

    You have at your fingertips the ability to talk in "real-time" with
    someone in Japan, send a 2,000-word short story to a group of people
    who will critique it for the sheer pleasure of doing so, see if a
    Macintosh sitting in a lab in Canada is turned on, and find out if
    someone happens to be sitting in front of their computer (logged on)
    in Australia, all inside of thirty minutes. No airline (or tardis,
    for that matter) could ever match that travel itinerary.

    The largest problem people face when first using a network is
    grasping all that's available. Even seasoned users find themselves
    surprised when they discover a new service or feature that they'd
    never known even existed. Once acquainted with the terminology and
    sufficiently comfortable with making occasional mistakes, the
    learning process will drastically speed up.

    Domains

    Getting where you want to go can often be one of the more difficult
    aspects of using networks. The variety of ways that places are named
    will probably leave a blank stare on your face at first. Don't fret;
    there is a method to this apparent madness.

    If someone were to ask for a home address, they would probably expect
    a street, apartment, city, state, and zip code. That's all the
    information the post office needs to deliver mail in a reasonably
    speedy fashion. Likewise, computer addresses have a structure to
    them. The general form is:

    a person's email address on a computer: user@somewhere.domain
    a computer's name: somewhere.domain

    The user portion is usually the person's account name on the
    system, though it doesn't have to be. somewhere.domain tells
    you the name of a system or location, and what kind of organization it
    is. The trailing domain is often one of the following:

    com
    Usually a company or other commercial institution or organization,
    like Convex Computers (convex.com).

    edu
    An educational institution, e.g. New York University, named nyu.edu.

    gov
    A government site; for example, NASA is nasa.gov.

    mil
    A military site, like the Air Force (af.mil).

    net
    Gateways and other administrative hosts for a network (it does not
    mean all of the hosts in a network). {The Matrix, 111. One such
    gateway is near.net.}

    org
    This is a domain reserved for private organizations, who don't
    comfortably fit in the other classes of domains. One example is the
    Electronic Frontier Foundation named eff.org.

    Each country also has its own top-level domain. For example, the
    us domain includes each of the fifty states. Other countries
    represented with domains include:

    au Australia
    ca Canada
    fr France
    uk The United Kingdom. These also have sub-domains of things like
    ac.uk for academic sites and co.uk for commercial ones.

    FQDN (Fully Qualified Domain Name)

    The proper terminology for a site's domain name (somewhere.domain
    above) is its Fully Qualified Domain Name (FQDN). It is usually
    selected to give a clear indication of the site's organization or
    sponsoring agent. For example, the Massachusetts Institute of
    Technology's FQDN is mit.edu; similarly, Apple Computer's domain name
    is apple.com. While such obvious names are usually the norm, there
    are the occasional exceptions that are ambiguous enough to
    mislead---like vt.edu, which on first impulse one might surmise is an
    educational institution of some sort in Vermont; not so. It's
    actually the domain name for Virginia Tech. In most cases it's
    relatively easy to glean the meaning of a domain name---such
    confusion is far from the norm.

    Internet Numbers

    Every single machine on the Internet has a unique address, {At least
    one address, possibly two or even three---but we won't go into
    that.} called its Internet number or IP Address. It's actually a
    32-bit number, but is most commonly represented as four numbers
    joined by periods (.), like 147.31.254.130. This is sometimes also
    called a dotted quad; there are literally thousands of different
    possible dotted quads. The ARPAnet (the mother to today's Internet)
    originally only had the capacity to have up to 256 systems on it
    because of the way each system was addressed. In the early eighties,
    it became clear that things would fast outgrow such a small limit;
    the 32-bit addressing method was born, freeing thousands of host
    numbers.

    Each piece of an Internet address (like 192) is called an "octet,"
    representing one of four sets of eight bits. The first two or three
    pieces (e.g. 192.55.239) represent the network that a system is on,
    called its subnet. For example, all of the computers for Wesleyan
    University are in the subnet 129.133. They can have numbers like
    129.133.10.10, 129.133.230.19, up to 65 thousand possible
    combinations (possible computers).

    IP addresses and domain names aren't assigned arbitrarily---that
    would lead to unbelievable confusion. An application must be filed
    with the Network Information Center (NIC), either electronically (to
    hostmaster@nic.ddn.mil) or via regular mail.

    Resolving Names and Numbers

    Ok, computers can be referred to by either their FQDN or their
    Internet address. How can one user be expected to remember them all?

    They aren't. The Internet is designed so that one can use either
    method. Since humans find it much more natural to deal with words
    than numbers in most cases, the FQDN for each host is mapped to its
    Internet number. Each domain is served by a computer within that
    domain, which provides all of the necessary information to go from a
    domain name to an IP address, and vice-versa. For example, when
    someone refers to foosun.bar.com, the resolver knows that it should
    ask the system foovax.bar.com about systems in bar.com. It asks what
    Internet address foosun.bar.com has; if the name foosun.bar.com
    really exists, foovax will send back its number. All of this
    "magic" happens behind the scenes.

    Rarely will a user have to remember the Internet number of a site
    (although often you'll catch yourself remembering an apparently
    obscure number, simply because you've accessed the system
    frequently). However, you will remember a substantial number of
    FQDNs. It will eventually reach a point when you are able to make a
    reasonably accurate guess at what domain name a certain college,
    university, or company might have, given just their name.

    The Networks

    Internet
    The Internet is a large "network of networks." There is no
    one network known as The Internet; rather, regional nets like SuraNet,
    PrepNet, NearNet, et al., are all inter-connected
    (nay, "inter-networked") together into one great living thing,
    communicating at amazing speeds with the TCP/IP protocol. All
    activity takes place in "real-time."

    UUCP
    The UUCP network is a loose association of systems all communicating
    with the UUCP protocol. (UUCP stands for `Unix-to-Unix Copy
    Program'.) It's based on two systems connecting to each other at
    specified intervals, called polling, and executing any work
    scheduled for either of them. Historically most UUCP was done with
    Unix equipment, although the software's since been implemented on
    other platforms (e.g. VMS). For example, the system oregano
    polls the system basil once every two hours. If there's any
    mail waiting for oregano, basil will send it at that time;
    likewise, oregano will at that time send any jobs waiting for
    basil.

    BITNET
    BITNET (the "Because It's Time Network") is comprised of systems
    connected by point-to-point links, all running the NJE protocol.
    It's continued to grow, but has found itself suffering at the hands of
    the falling costs of Internet connections. Also, a number of mail
    gateways are in place to reach users on other networks.

    The Physical Connection

    The actual connections between the various networks take a variety of
    forms. The most prevalent for Internet links are 56k leased lines
    (dedicated telephone lines carrying 56kilobit-per-second connections)
    and T1 links (special phone lines with 1Mbps connections). Also
    installed are T3 links, acting as backbones between major locations
    to carry a massive 45Mbps load of traffic.

    These links are paid for by each institution to a local carrier (for
    example, Bell Atlantic owns PrepNet, the main provider in
    Pennsylvania). Also available are SLIP connections, which carry
    Internet traffic (packets) over high-speed modems.

    UUCP links are made with modems (for the most part), that run from
    1200 baud all the way up to as high as 38.4Kbps. As was mentioned in
    The Networks, the connections are of the store-and-forward
    variety. Also in use are Internet-based UUCP links (as if things
    weren't already confusing enough!). The systems do their UUCP traffic
    over TCP/IP connections, which give the UUCP-based network some
    blindingly fast "hops," resulting in better connectivity for the
    network as a whole. UUCP connections first became popular in the
    1970's, and have remained in wide-spread use ever since. Only with
    UUCP can Joe Smith correspond with someone across the country or
    around the world, for the price of a local telephone call.

    BITNET links mostly take the form of 9600bps modems connected from site
    to site. Often places have three or more links going; the majority,
    however, look to "upstream" sites for their sole link to the network.

    "The Glory and the Nothing of a Name"
    Byron, {Churchill's Grave}

    -----------
    Electronic Mail

    The desire to communicate is the essence of networking. People have
    always wanted to correspond with each other in the fastest way
    possible, short of normal conversation. Electronic mail (or
    email) is the most prevalent application of this in computer
    networking. It allows people to write back and forth without having
    to spend much time worrying about how the message actually gets
    delivered. As technology grows closer and closer to being a common
    part of daily life, the need to understand the many ways it can be
    utilized and how it works, at least to some level, is vital.
    part of daily life (as has been evidenced by the ISDN effort, the need
    to understand the many ways it can be utilized and how it works, at
    least to some level, is vital.

    Email Addresses

    Electronic mail is hinged around the concept of an address; the
    section on Networking Basics made some reference to it while
    introducing domains. Your email address provides all of the
    information required to get a message to you from anywhere in the
    world. An address doesn't necessarily have to go to a human being.
    It could be an archive server, {See Archive Servers, for a
    description.} a list of people, or even someone's pocket pager.
    These cases are the exception to the norm---mail to most addresses is
    read by human beings.

    %@!.: Symbolic Cacophony

    Email addresses usually appear in one of two forms---using the
    Internet format which contains @, an "at"-sign, or using the
    UUCP format which contains !, an exclamation point, also called
    a "bang." The latter of the two, UUCP "bang" paths, is more
    restrictive, yet more clearly dictates how the mail will travel.

    To reach Jim Morrison on the system south.america.org, one would
    address the mail as jm@south.america.org. But if Jim's account was
    on a UUCP site named brazil, then his address would be brazil!jm. If
    it's possible (and one exists), try to use the Internet form of an
    address; bang paths can fail if an intermediate site in the path
    happens to be down. There is a growing trend for UUCP sites to
    register Internet domain names, to help alleviate the problem of path
    failures.

    Another symbol that enters the fray is %---it acts as an extra
    "routing" method. For example, if the UUCP site dream is connected
    to south.america.org, but doesn't have an Internet domain name of its
    own, a user debbie on dream can be reached by writing to the address
    not smallexample!

    debbie%dream@south.america.org

    The form is significant. This address says that the local system
    should first send the mail to south.america.org. There the address
    debbie%dream will turn into debbie@dream, which will hopefully be a
    valid address. Then south.america.org will handle getting the mail
    to the host dream, where it will be delivered locally to debbie.

    All of the intricacies of email addressing methods are fully covered
    in the book "!%@@:: A Directory of Electronic Mail Addressing and
    Networks" published by O'Reilly and Associates, as part of their
    Nutshell Handbook series. It is a must for any active email user.
    Write to nuts@ora.com for ordering information.

    Sending and Receiving Mail

    We'll make one quick diversion from being OS-neuter here, to show you
    what it will look like to send and receive a mail message on a Unix
    system. Check with your system administrator for specific
    instructions related to mail at your site.

    A person sending the author mail would probably do something like this:

    % mail brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: print job's stuck

    I typed `print babe.gif' and it didn't work! Why??

    The next time the author checked his mail, he would see it listed in
    his mailbox as:

    % mail
    "/usr/spool/mail/brendan": 1 messages 1 new 1 unread
    U 1 joeuser@foo.widene Tue May 5 20:36 29/956 print job's stuck
    ?

    which gives information on the sender of the email, when it was sent,
    and the subject of the message. He would probably use the
    reply command of Unix mail to send this response:

    ? r
    To: joeuser@@foo.widener.edu
    Subject: Re: print job's stuck

    You shouldn't print binary files like GIFs to a printer!

    Brendan

    Try sending yourself mail a few times, to get used to your system's
    mailer. It'll save a lot of wasted aspirin for both you and your
    system administrator.

    Anatomy of a Mail Header

    An electronic mail message has a specific structure to it that's
    common across every type of computer system. {The standard is written
    down in RFC-822. See also RFCs for more info on how to get copies of
    the various RFCs.} A sample would be:

    >From bush@hq.mil Sat May 25 17:06:01 1991
    Received: from hq.mil by house.gov with SMTP id AA21901
    (4.1/SMI for dan@house.gov); Sat, 25 May 91 17:05:56 -0400
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 17:05:56 -0400
    From: The President <bush@hq.mil>
    Message-Id: <9105252105.AA06631@hq.mil>
    To: dan@senate.gov
    Subject: Meeting

    Hi Dan .. we have a meeting at 9:30 a.m. with the Joint Chiefs. Please
    don't oversleep this time.

    The first line, with From and the two lines for Received: are usually
    not very interesting. They give the "real" address that the mail
    is coming from (as opposed to the address you should reply to, which
    may look much different), and what places the mail went through to
    get to you. Over the Internet, there is always at least one
    Received: header and usually no more than four or five. When a
    message is sent using UUCP, one Received: header is added for each
    system that the mail passes through. This can often result in more
    than a dozen Received: headers. While they help with dissecting
    problems in mail delivery, odds are the average user will never want
    to see them. Most mail programs will filter out this kind of
    "cruft" in a header.

    The Date: header contains the date and time the message was
    sent. Likewise, the "good" address (as opposed to "real" address)
    is laid out in the From: header. Sometimes it won't include
    the full name of the person (in this case The President), and
    may look different, but it should always contain an email address of
    some form.

    The Message-ID: of a message is intended mainly for tracing
    mail routing, and is rarely of interest to normal users. Every
    Message-ID: is guaranteed to be unique.

    To: lists the email address (or addresses) of the recipients of
    the message. There may be a Cc: header, listing additional
    addresses. Finally, a brief subject for the message goes in the
    Subject: header.

    The exact order of a message's headers may vary from system to system,
    but it will always include these fundamental headers that are vital to
    proper delivery.

    Bounced Mail

    When an email address is incorrect in some way (the system's name is
    wrong, the domain doesn't exist, whatever), the mail system will
    bounce the message back to the sender, much the same way that the
    Postal Service does when you send a letter to a bad street address.
    The message will include the reason for the bounce; a common error is
    addressing mail to an account name that doesn't exist. For example,
    writing to Lisa Simpson at Widener University's Computer Science
    department will fail, because she doesn't have an account. {Though if
    she asked, we'd certainly give her one.}

    From: Mail Delivery Subsystem <MAILER-DAEMON>
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    To: mg@gracie.com
    Cc: Postmaster@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: Returned mail: User unknown

    ----- Transcript of session follows -----
    While talking to cs.widener.edu:
    >>> RCPT To:<lsimpson@cs.widener.edu>
    <<< 550 <lsimpson@cs.widener.edu>... User unknown
    550 lsimpson... User unknown

    As you can see, a carbon copy of the message (the Cc: header
    entry) was sent to the postmaster of Widener's CS department. The
    Postmaster is responsible for maintaining a reliable mail system
    on his system. Usually postmasters at sites will attempt to aid you
    in getting your mail where it's supposed to go. If a typing error was
    made, then try re-sending the message. If you're sure that the
    address is correct, contact the postmaster of the site directly and
    ask him how to properly address it.

    The message also includes the text of the mail, so you don't have to
    retype everything you wrote.

    ----- Unsent message follows -----
    Received: by cs.widener.edu id AA06528; Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    From: Matt Groening <mg@gracie.com>
    Message-Id: <9105252045.AA06528@gracie.com>
    To: lsimpson@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: Scripting your future episodes
    Reply-To: writing-group@gracie.com

    .... verbiage ...

    The full text of the message is returned intact, including any headers
    that were added. This can be cut out with an editor and fed right
    back into the mail system with a proper address, making redelivery a
    relatively painless process.

    Mailing Lists

    People that share common interests are inclined to discuss their
    hobby or interest at every available opportunity. One modern way to
    aid in this exchange of information is by using a mailing
    list---usually an email address that redistributes all mail sent to
    it back out to a list of addresses. For example, the Sun Managers
    mailing list (of interest to people that administer computers
    manufactured by Sun) has the address sun-managers@eecs.nwu.edu. Any
    mail sent to that address will "explode" out to each person named
    in a file maintained on a computer at Northwestern University.

    Administrative tasks (sometimes referred to as administrivia) are
    often handled through other addresses, typically with the suffix
    -request. To continue the above, a request to be added to or deleted
    from the Sun Managers list should be sent to
    sun-managers-request@eecs.nwu.edu.

    When in doubt, try to write to the -request version of a mailing list
    address first; the other people on the list aren't interested in your
    desire to be added or deleted, and can certainly do nothing to
    expedite your request. Often if the administrator of a list is busy
    (remember, this is all peripheral to real jobs and real work), many
    users find it necessary to ask again and again, often with harsher
    and harsher language, to be removed from a list. This does nothing
    more than waste traffic and bother everyone else receiving the
    messages. If, after a reasonable amount of time, you still haven't
    succeeded to be removed from a mailing list, write to the postmaster
    at that site and see if they can help.

    Exercise caution when replying to a message sent by a mailing list. If
    you wish to respond to the author only, make sure that the only
    address you're replying to is that person, and not the entire list.
    Often messages of the sort "Yes, I agree with you completely!" will
    appear on a list, boring the daylights out of the other readers. Likewise,
    if you explicitly do want to send the message to the whole list,
    you'll save yourself some time by checking to make sure it's indeed
    headed to the whole list and not a single person.

    A list of the currently available mailing lists is available in at
    least two places; the first is in a file on ftp.nisc.sri.com called
    interest-groups under the netinfo/ directory. It's updated fairly
    regularly, but is large (presently around 700K), so only get it every
    once in a while. The other list is maintained by Gene Spafford
    (spaf@cs.purdue.edu), and is posted in parts to the newsgroup
    news.lists semi-regularly. (Usenet News, for info on how to read that
    and other newsgroups.)

    Listservs

    On BITNET there's an automated system for maintaining discussion lists
    called the listserv. Rather than have an already harried and
    overworked human take care of additions and removals from a list, a
    program performs these and other tasks by responding to a set of
    user-driven commands.

    Areas of interest are wide and varied---ETHICS-L deals with ethics in
    computing, while ADND-L has to do with a role-playing game. A full
    list of the available BITNET lists can be obtained by writing to
    LISTSERV@BITNIC.BITNET with a body containing the command

    list global

    However, be sparing in your use of this---see if it's already on your
    system somewhere. The reply is quite large.

    The most fundamental command is subscribe. It will tell the
    listserv to add the sender to a specific list. The usage is

    subscribe foo-l Your Real Name

    It will respond with a message either saying that you've been added to
    the list, or that the request has been passed on to the system on
    which the list is actually maintained.

    The mate to subscribe is, naturally, unsubscribe. It will remove a
    given address from a BITNET list. It, along with all other listserv
    commands, can be abbreviated---subscribe as sub, unsubscribe as
    unsub, etc. For a full list of the available listserv commands,
    write to LISTSERV@BITNIC.BITNET, giving it the command help.

    As an aside, there have been implementations of the listserv system
    for non-BITNET hosts (more specifically, Unix systems). One of the
    most complete is available on cs.bu.edu in the
    directory pub/listserv.

    "I made this letter longer than usual because
    I lack the time to make it shorter."
    Pascal, Provincial Letters XVI

    --------------

    Anonymous FTP

    FTP (File Transfer Protocol) is the primary method of transferring
    files over the Internet. On many systems, it's also the name of the
    program that implements the protocol. Given proper permission, it's
    possible to copy a file from a computer in South Africa to one in Los
    Angeles at very fast speeds (on the order of 5--10K per second).
    This normally requires either a user id on both systems or a special
    configuration set up by the system administrator(s).

    There is a good way around this restriction---the anonymous FTP
    service. It essentially will let anyone in the world have access to
    a certain area of disk space in a non-threatening way. With this,
    people can make files publicly available with little hassle. Some
    systems have dedicated entire disks or even entire computers to
    maintaining extensive archives of source code and information. They
    include gatekeeper.dec.com (Digital), wuarchive.wustl.edu (Washington
    University in Saint Louis), and archive.cis.ohio-state.edu (The Ohio
    State University).

    The process involves the "foreign" user (someone not on the system
    itself) creating an FTP connection and logging into the system as the
    user anonymous, with an arbitrary password:

    Name (foo.site.com:you): anonymous
    Password: jm@south.america.org

    Custom and netiquette dictate that people respond to the
    Password: query with an email address so that the sites can
    track the level of FTP usage, if they desire. (Addresses for
    information on email addresses).

    The speed of the transfer depends on the speed of the underlying
    link. A site that has a 9600bps SLIP connection will not get the same
    throughput as a system with a 56k leased line (The Physical
    Connection, for more on what kinds of connections can exist in a
    network). Also, the traffic of all other users on that link will
    affect performance. If there are thirty people all FTPing from one
    site simultaneously, the load on the system (in addition to the
    network connection) will degrade the overall throughput of the
    transfer.

    FTP Etiquette

    Lest we forget, the Internet is there for people to do work. People
    using the network and the systems on it are doing so for a purpose,
    whether it be research, development, whatever. Any heavy activity
    takes away from the overall performance of the network as a whole.

    The effects of an FTP connection on a site and its link can vary; the
    general rule of thumb is that any extra traffic created detracts from
    the ability of that site's users to perform their tasks. To help be
    considerate of this, it's highly recommended that FTP sessions
    be held only after normal business hours for that site, preferably
    late at night. The possible effects of a large transfer will be less
    destructive at 2 a.m. than 2 p.m. Also, remember that if it's past
    dinner time in Maine, it's still early afternoon in California---think
    in terms of the current time at the site that's being visited, not of
    local time.

    Basic Commands

    While there have been many extensions to the various FTP clients out
    there, there is a de facto "standard" set that everyone expects to
    work. For more specific information, read the manual for your
    specific FTP program. This section will only skim the bare minimum of
    commands needed to operate an FTP session.

    Creating the Connection

    The actual command to use FTP will vary among operating systems; for
    the sake of clarity, we'll use FTP here, since it's the most
    general form.

    There are two ways to connect to a system---using its hostname
    or its Internet number. Using the hostname is usually preferred.
    However, some sites aren't able to resolve hostnames properly,
    and have no alternative. We'll assume you're able to use hostnames
    for simplicity's sake. The form is

    ftp somewhere.domain

    Domains for help with reading and using domain names
    (in the example below, somewhere.domain is ftp.uu.net).

    You must first know the name of the system you want to connect to.
    We'll use ftp.uu.net as an example. On your system, type:

    ftp ftp.uu.net

    (the actual syntax will vary depending on the type of system the
    connection's being made from). It will pause momentarily then respond
    with the message

    Connected to ftp.uu.net.

    and an initial prompt will appear:

    220 uunet FTP server (Version 5.100 Mon Feb 11 17:13:28 EST 1991) ready.
    Name (ftp.uu.net:jm):

    to which you should respond with anonymous:

    220 uunet FTP server (Version 5.100 Mon Feb 11 17:13:28 EST 1991) ready.
    Name (ftp.uu.net:jm): anonymous

    The system will then prompt you for a password; as noted previously, a
    good response is your email address:

    331 Guest login ok, send ident as password.
    Password: jm@south.america.org
    230 Guest login ok, access restrictions apply.
    ftp>

    The password itself will not echo. This is to protect a user's
    security when he or she is using a real account to FTP files between
    machines. Once you reach the ftp> prompt, you know you're
    logged in and ready to go.

    Notice the ftp.uu.net:joe in the Name: prompt? That's
    another clue that anonymous FTP is special: FTP expects a normal user
    accounts to be used for transfers.

    dir
    At the ftp> prompt, you can type a number of commands to perform
    various functions. One example is dir---it will list the files
    in the current directory. Continuing the example from above:

    ftp> dir

    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening ASCII mode data connection for /bin/ls.
    total 3116
    drwxr-xr-x 2 7 21 512 Nov 21 1988 .forward
    -rw-rw-r-- 1 7 11 0 Jun 23 1988 .hushlogin
    drwxrwxr-x 2 0 21 512 Jun 4 1990 Census
    drwxrwxr-x 2 0 120 512 Jan 8 09:36 ClariNet
    ... etc etc ...
    -rw-rw-r-- 1 7 14 42390 May 20 02:24 newthisweek.Z
    ... etc etc ...
    -rw-rw-r-- 1 7 14 2018887 May 21 01:01 uumap.tar.Z
    drwxrwxr-x 2 7 6 1024 May 11 10:58 uunet-info

    226 Transfer complete.
    5414 bytes received in 1.1 seconds (4.9 Kbytes/s)
    ftp>

    The file newthisweek.Z was specifically included because we'll
    be using it later. Just for general information, it happens to be a
    listing of all of the files added to UUNET's archives during the past
    week.

    The directory shown is on a machine running the Unix operating
    system---the dir command will produce different results on other
    operating systems (e.g. TOPS, VMS, et al.). Learning to recognize
    different formats will take some time. After a few weeks of
    traversing the Internet, it proves easier to see, for example, how
    large a file is on an operating system you're otherwise not acquainted
    with.

    With many FTP implementations, it's also possible to take the output
    of dir and put it into a file on the local system with

    ftp> dir n* outfilename

    the contents of which can then be read outside of the live FTP
    connection; this is particularly useful for systems with very long
    directories (like ftp.uu.net). The above example would put the
    names of every file that begins with an n into the local file
    outfilename.

    cd

    At the beginning of an FTP session, the user is in a "top-level"
    directory. Most things are in directories below it (e.g. /pub). To
    change the current directory, one uses the cd command. To change to
    the directory pub, for example, one would type

    ftp> cd pub

    which would elicit the response

    250 CWD command successful.

    Meaning the "Change Working Directory" command (cd) worked
    properly. Moving "up" a directory is more system-specific---in Unix
    use the command cd .., and in VMS, cd [-].

    get and put

    The actual transfer is performed with the get and put
    commands. To get a file from the remote computer to the local
    system, the command takes the form:

    ftp> get filename

    where filename is the file on the remote system. Again using
    ftp.uu.net as an example, the file newthisweek.Z can be
    retrieved with

    ftp> get newthisweek.Z
    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening ASCII mode data connection for newthisweek.Z (42390 bytes).
    226 Transfer complete.
    local: newthisweek.Z remote: newthisweek.Z
    42553 bytes received in 6.9 seconds (6 Kbytes/s)
    ftp>

    The section below on using binary mode instead of ASCII will describe
    why this particular choice will result in a corrupt and subsequently
    unusable file.

    If, for some reason, you want to save a file under a different name
    (e.g. your system can only have 14-character filenames, or can only
    have one dot in the name), you can specify what the local filename
    should be by providing get with an additional argument

    ftp> get newthisweek.Z uunet-new

    which will place the contents of the file newthisweek.Z in
    uunet-new on the local system.

    The transfer works the other way, too. The put command will
    transfer a file from the local system to the remote system. If the
    permissions are set up for an FTP session to write to a remote
    directory, a file can be sent with

    ftp> put filename

    As with get, put will take a third argument, letting you
    specify a different name for the file on the remote system.

    ASCII vs Binary

    In the example above, the file newthisweek.Z was transferred, but
    supposedly not correctly. The reason is this: in a normal ASCII
    transfer (the default), certain characters are translated between
    systems, to help make text files more readable. However, when binary
    files (those containing non-ASCII characters) are transferred, this
    translation should not take place. One example is a binary
    program---a few changed characters can render it completely useless.

    To avoid this problem, it's possible to be in one of two modes---ASCII
    or binary. In binary mode, the file isn't translated in any way.
    What's on the remote system is precisely what's received. The
    commands to go between the two modes are:

    ftp> ascii
    200 Type set to A. (Note the A, which signifies ASCII mode.)

    ftp> binary
    200 Type set to I. (Set to Image format, for pure binary transfers.)

    Note that each command need only be done once to take effect; if the
    user types binary, all transfers in that session are done in
    binary mode (that is, unless ascii is typed later).

    The transfer of newthisweek.Z will work if done as:

    ftp> binary
    200 Type set to I.
    ftp> get newthisweek.Z
    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening BINARY mode data connection for newthisweek.Z (42390 bytes).
    226 Transfer complete.
    local: newthisweek.Z remote: newthisweek.Z
    42390 bytes received in 7.2 seconds (5.8 Kbytes/s)

    Note: The file size (42390) is different from that done
    in ASCII mode (42553) bytes; and the number 42390 matches the one
    in the listing of UUNET's top directory. We can be relatively sure
    that we've received the file without any problems.

    mget and mput

    The commands mget and mput allow for multiple file
    transfers using wildcards to get several files, or a whole set of
    files at once, rather than having to do it manually one by one. For
    example, to get all files that begin with the letter f, one
    would type

    ftp> mget f*

    Similarly, to put all of the local files that end with .c:

    ftp> mput *.c

    Rather than reiterate what's been written a hundred times before,
    consult a local manual for more information on wildcard matching
    (every DOS manual, for example, has a section on it).

    Normally, FTP assumes a user wants to be prompted for every file in a
    mget or mput operation. You'll often need to get a whole set of
    files and not have each of them confirmed---you know they're all
    right. In that case, use the prompt command to turn the queries off.

    ftp> prompt
    Interactive mode off.

    Likewise, to turn it back on, the prompt command should simply
    be issued again.

    Joe Granrose's List
    Monthly, Joe Granrose (odin@pilot.njin.net) posts to Usenet
    (Usenet News) an extensive list of sites offering anonymous FTP
    service. It's available in a number of ways:

    The Usenet groups comp.misc and comp.sources.wanted

    Anonymous FTP from pilot.njin.net [128.6.7.38], in
    /pub/ftp-list.

    Write to odin@pilot.njin.net with a Subject: line of listserv-request
    and a message body of send help. Please don't bother Joe with your
    requests---the server will provide you with the list.

    The archie Server
    archie is always in lowercase

    A group of people at McGill University in Canada got together and created a
    query system called archie. It was originally formed to be a
    quick and easy way to scan the offerings of the many anonymous FTP
    sites that are maintained around the world. As time progressed,
    archie grew to include other valuable services as well.

    The archie service is accessible through an interactive telnet
    session, email queries, and command-line and X-window clients. The
    email responses can be used along with FTPmail servers for those not
    on the Internet. (FTP-by-Mail Servers, for info on using FTPmail
    servers.)

    Using archie Today

    Currently, archie tracks the contents of over 800 anonymous FTP
    archive sites containing over a million files stored across the
    Internet. Collectively, these files represent well over 50 gigabytes
    of information, with new entries being added daily.

    The archie server automatically updates the listing information from
    each site about once a month. This avoids constantly updating the
    databases, which could waste network resources, yet ensures that the
    information on each site's holdings is reasonably up to date.

    To access archie interactively, telnet to one of the existing
    servers. {See Telnet, for notes on using the telnet program.} They
    include

    archie.ans.net (New York, USA)
    archie.rutgers.edu (New Jersey, USA)
    archie.sura.net (Maryland, USA)
    archie.unl.edu (Nebraska, USA)
    archie.mcgill.ca (the first Archie server, in Canada)
    archie.funet.fi (Finland)
    archie.au (Australia)
    archie.doc.ic.ac.uk (Great Britain)

    At the login: prompt of one of the servers, enter archie to log in.
    A greeting will be displayed, detailing information about ongoing
    work in the archie project; the user will be left at a archie>
    prompt, at which he may enter commands. Using help will yield
    instructions on using the prog command to make queries, set to
    control various aspects of the server's operation, et al. Type quit
    at the prompt to leave archie. Typing the query prog vine.tar.Z will
    yield a list of the systems that offer the source to the X-windows
    program vine; a piece of the information returned looks like:

    Host ftp.uu.net (137.39.1.9)
    Last updated 10:30 7 Jan 1992

    Location: /packages/X/contrib
    FILE rw-r--r-- 15548 Oct 8 20:29 vine.tar.Z

    Host nic.funet.fi (128.214.6.100)
    Last updated 05:07 4 Jan 1992

    Location: /pub/X11/contrib
    FILE rw-rw-r-- 15548 Nov 8 03:25 vine.tar.Z

    archie Clients

    There are two main-stream archie clients, one called (naturally
    enough) archie, the other xarchie (for X-Windows). They query the
    archie databases and yield a list of systems that have the requested
    file(s) available for anonymous FTP, without requiring an interactive
    session to the server. For example, to find the same information you
    tried with the server command prog, you could type

    % archie vine.tar.Z
    Host athene.uni-paderborn.de
    Location: /local/X11/more_contrib
    FILE -rw-r--r-- 18854 Nov 15 1990 vine.tar.Z

    Host emx.utexas.edu
    Location: /pub/mnt/source/games
    FILE -rw-r--r-- 12019 May 7 1988 vine.tar.Z

    Host export.lcs.mit.edu
    Location: /contrib
    FILE -rw-r--r-- 15548 Oct 9 00:29 vine.tar.Z

    Note that your system administrator may not have installed the archie
    clients yet; the source is available on each of the archie servers, in
    the directory archie/clients.

    Using the X-windows client is much more intuitive---if it's installed,
    just read its man page and give it a whirl. It's essential for the
    networked desktop.

    Mailing archie

    Users limited to email connectivity to the Internet should send a
    message to the address archie@archie.mcgill.ca with the single word
    help in the body of the message. An email message will be returned
    explaining how to use the email archie server, along with the details
    of using FTPmail. Most of the commands offered by the telnet
    interface can be used with the mail server.

    The whatis database

    In addition to offering access to anonymous FTP listings, archie also
    permits access to the whatis description database. It includes
    the names and brief synopses for over 3,500 public domain software
    packages, datasets and informational documents located on the
    Internet.

    Additional whatis databases are scheduled to be added in the
    future. Planned offerings include listings for the names and locations
    of online library catalog programs, the names of publicly accessible
    electronic mailing lists, compilations of Frequently Asked Questions
    lists, and archive sites for the most popular Usenet newsgroups.
    Suggestions for additional descriptions or locations databases are
    welcomed and should be sent to the archie developers at
    archie-l@cs.mcgill.ca.

    "Was f@"ur pl@"undern!"
    ("What a place to plunder!")
    Gebhard Leberecht Bl@"ucher

    ------
    Usenet News

    Original from: chip@count.tct.com (Chip Salzenberg)
    [Most recent change: 19 May 1991 by spaf@cs.purdue.edu (Gene Spafford)]

    The first thing to understand about Usenet is that it is widely
    misunderstood. Every day on Usenet the "blind men and the
    elephant" phenomenon appears, in spades. In the opinion of the
    author, more flame wars (rabid arguments) arise because of a
    lack of understanding of the nature of Usenet than from any other
    source. And consider that such flame wars arise, of necessity, among
    people who are on Usenet. Imagine, then, how poorly understood Usenet
    must be by those outside!

    No essay on the nature of Usenet can ignore the erroneous impressions
    held by many Usenet users. Therefore, this section will treat
    falsehoods first. Keep reading for truth. (Beauty, alas, is not
    relevant to Usenet.)

    What Usenet Is

    Usenet is the set of machines that exchange articles tagged with one
    or more universally-recognized labels, called newsgroups (or
    "groups" for short). (Note that the term newsgroup is correct,
    while area, base, board, bboard, conference, round table, SIG, etc.
    are incorrect. If you want to be understood, be accurate.)

    The Diversity of Usenet

    If the above definition of Usenet sounds vague, that's because it is.
    It is almost impossible to generalize over all Usenet sites in any
    non-trivial way. Usenet encompasses government agencies, large
    universities, high schools, businesses of all sizes, home computers of
    all descriptions, etc.

    Every administrator controls his own site. No one has any real
    control over any site but his own. The administrator gets his power
    from the owner of the system he administers. As long as the owner is
    happy with the job the administrator is doing, he can do whatever he
    pleases, up to and including cutting off Usenet entirely. C'est
    la vie.

    What Usenet Is Not

    Usenet is not an organization.
    Usenet has no central authority. In fact, it has no central anything.
    There is a vague notion of "upstream" and "downstream" related to
    the direction of high-volume news flow. It follows that, to the
    extent that "upstream" sites decide what traffic they will carry for
    their "downstream" neighbors, that "upstream" sites have some
    influence on their neighbors. But such influence is usually easy to
    circumvent, and heavy-handed manipulation typically results in a
    backlash of resentment.

    Usenet is not a democracy.
    A democracy can be loosely defined as "government of the people, by
    the people, for the people." However, as explained above, Usenet is
    not an organization, and only an organization can be run as a
    democracy. Even a democracy must be organized, for if it lacks a
    means of enforcing the peoples' wishes, then it may as well not exist.

    Some people wish that Usenet were a democracy. Many people pretend
    that it is. Both groups are sadly deluded.

    Usenet is not fair.
    After all, who shall decide what's fair? For that matter, if someone
    is behaving unfairly, who's going to stop him? Neither you nor I,
    that's certain.

    Usenet is not a right.
    Some people misunderstand their local right of "freedom of speech"
    to mean that they have a legal right to use others' computers to say
    what they wish in whatever way they wish, and the owners of said
    computers have no right to stop them.

    Those people are wrong. Freedom of speech also means freedom not to
    speak; if I choose not to use my computer to aid your speech, that is
    my right. Freedom of the press belongs to those who own one.

    Usenet is not a public utility.
    Some Usenet sites are publicly funded or subsidized. Most of them,
    by plain count, are not. There is no government monopoly on Usenet,
    and little or no control.

    Usenet is not a commercial network.
    Many Usenet sites are academic or government organizations; in fact,
    Usenet originated in academia. Therefore, there is a Usenet custom of
    keeping commercial traffic to a minimum. If such commercial traffic
    is generally considered worth carrying, then it may be grudgingly
    tolerated. Even so, it is usually separated somehow from
    non-commercial traffic; see comp.newprod.

    Usenet is not the Internet.
    The Internet is a wide-ranging network, parts of which are subsidized
    by various governments. The Internet carries many kinds of traffic;
    Usenet is only one of them. And the Internet is only one of the
    various networks carrying Usenet traffic.

    Usenet is not a Unix network, nor even an ASCII network.

    Don't assume that everyone is using "rn" on a Unix machine. There
    are Vaxen running VMS, IBM mainframes, Amigas, and MS-DOS PCs reading
    and posting to Usenet. And, yes, some of them use (shudder) EBCDIC.
    Ignore them if you like, but they're out there.

    Usenet is not software.
    There are dozens of software packages used at various sites to
    transport and read Usenet articles. So no one program or package can
    be called "the Usenet software."

    Software designed to support Usenet traffic can be (and is) used for
    other kinds of communication, usually without risk of mixing the two.
    Such private communication networks are typically kept distinct from
    Usenet by the invention of newsgroup names different from the
    universally-recognized ones.

    Usenet is not a UUCP network.

    UUCP is a protocol (some might say protocol suite, but that's a
    technical point) for sending data over point-to-point connections,
    typically using dialup modems. Usenet is only one of the various
    kinds of traffic carried via UUCP, and UUCP is only one of the various
    transports carrying Usenet traffic.

    Well, enough negativity.

    Propagation of News

    In the old days, when UUCP over long-distance dialup lines was the
    dominant means of article transmission, a few well-connected sites
    had real influence in determining which newsgroups would be carried
    where. Those sites called themselves "the backbone."

    But things have changed. Nowadays, even the smallest Internet site
    has connectivity the likes of which the backbone admin of yesteryear
    could only dream. In addition, in the U.S., the advent of cheaper
    long-distance calls and high-speed modems has made long-distance
    Usenet feeds thinkable for smaller companies. There is only one
    pre-eminent UUCP transport site today in the U.S., namely UUNET. But
    UUNET isn't a player in the propagation wars, because it never
    refuses any traffic---it gets paid by the minute, after all; to
    refuse based on content would jeopardize its legal status as an
    enhanced service provider.

    All of the above applies to the U.S. In Europe, different cost
    structures favored the creation of strictly controlled hierarchical
    organizations with central registries. This is all very unlike the
    traditional mode of U.S. sites (pick a name, get the software, get a
    feed, you're on). Europe's "benign monopolies", long uncontested,
    now face competition from looser organizations patterned after the
    U.S. model.

    Group Creation

    As discussed above, Usenet is not a democracy. Nevertheless,
    currently the most popular way to create a new newsgroup involves a
    "vote" to determine popular support for (and opposition to) a
    proposed newsgroup. Newsgroup Creation, for detailed instructions and
    guidelines on the process involved in making a newsgroup.

    If you follow the guidelines, it is probable that your group will be
    created and will be widely propagated. However, due to the nature of
    Usenet, there is no way for any user to enforce the results of a
    newsgroup vote (or any other decision, for that matter). Therefore,
    for your new newsgroup to be propagated widely, you must not only
    follow the letter of the guidelines; you must also follow its spirit.
    And you must not allow even a whiff of shady dealings or dirty tricks
    to mar the vote.

    So, you may ask: How is a new user supposed to know anything about the
    "spirit" of the guidelines? Obviously, she can't. This fact leads
    inexorably to the following recommendation:

    If you're a new user, don't try to create a new newsgroup alone.

    If you have a good newsgroup idea, then read the news.groups
    newsgroup for a while (six months, at least) to find out how things
    work. If you're too impatient to wait six months, then you really
    need to learn; read news.groups for a year instead. If you just
    can't wait, find a Usenet old hand to run the vote for you.

    Readers may think this advice unnecessarily strict. Ignore it at your
    peril. It is embarrassing to speak before learning. It is foolish to
    jump into a society you don't understand with your mouth open. And it
    is futile to try to force your will on people who can tune you out
    with the press of a key.

    If You're Unhappy...
    Property rights being what they are, there is no higher authority on
    Usenet than the people who own the machines on which Usenet traffic is
    carried. If the owner of the machine you use says, "We will not
    carry alt.sex on this machine," and you are not happy with
    that order, you have no Usenet recourse. What can we outsiders do,
    after all?

    That doesn't mean you are without options. Depending on the nature
    of your site, you may have some internal political recourse. Or you
    might find external pressure helpful. Or, with a minimal investment,
    you can get a feed of your own from somewhere else. Computers capable
    of taking Usenet feeds are down in the $500 range now, Unix-capable
    boxes are going for under $2000, and there are at least two Unix
    lookalikes in the $100 price range.

    No matter what, appealing to "Usenet" won't help. Even if those who
    read such an appeal regarding system administration are sympathetic to
    your cause, they will almost certainly have even less influence at
    your site than you do.

    By the same token, if you don't like what some user at another site is
    doing, only the administrator and/or owner of that site have any
    authority to do anything about it. Persuade them that the user in
    question is a problem for them, and they might do something (if they
    feel like it). If the user in question is the administrator or owner
    of the site from which he or she posts, forget it; you can't win.
    Arrange for your newsreading software to ignore articles from him or
    her if you can, and chalk one up to experience.

    The History of Usenet (The ABCs)

    In the beginning, there were conversations, and they were good. Then
    came Usenet in 1979, shortly after the release of V7 Unix with UUCP;
    and it was better. Two Duke University grad students in North
    Carolina, Tom Truscott and Jim Ellis, thought of hooking computers
    together to exchange information with the Unix community. Steve
    Bellovin, a grad student at the University of North Carolina, put
    together the first version of the news software using shell scripts
    and installed it on the first two sites: unc and duke. At the
    beginning of 1980 the network consisted of those two sites and phs
    (another machine at Duke), and was described at the January 1980
    Usenix conference in Boulder, CO. {The Usenix conferences are
    semi-annual meetings where members of the Usenix Association, a
    group of Unix enthusiasts, meet and trade notes.} Steve Bellovin
    later rewrote the scripts into C programs, but they were never
    released beyond unc and duke. Shortly thereafter, Steve Daniel did
    another implementation in the C programming language for public
    distribution. Tom Truscott made further modifications, and this
    became the "A" news release.

    In 1981 at the University of California at Berkeley, grad student Mark
    Horton and high school student Matt Glickman rewrote the news software
    to add functionality and to cope with the ever increasing volume of
    news---"A" news was intended for only a few articles per group per
    day. This rewrite was the "B" news version. The first public
    release was version 2.1 in 1982; all versions before 2.1 were
    considered in beta test. As The Net grew, the news software was
    expanded and modified. The last version maintained and released
    primarily by Mark was 2.10.1.

    Rick Adams, then at the Center for Seismic Studies, took over
    coordination of the maintenance and enhancement of the news software
    with the 2.10.2 release in 1984. By this time, the increasing volume
    of news was becoming a concern, and the mechanism for moderated groups
    was added to the software at 2.10.2. Moderated groups were inspired
    by ARPA mailing lists and experience with other bulletin board
    systems. In late 1986, version 2.11 of news was released, including a
    number of changes to support a new naming structure for newsgroups,
    enhanced batching and compression, enhanced ihave/sendme control
    messages, and other features. The current release of news is 2.11,
    patchlevel 19.

    A new version of news, becoming known as "C" news, has been
    developed at the University of Toronto by Geoff Collyer and Henry
    Spencer. This version is a rewrite of the lowest levels of news to
    increase article processing speed, decrease article expiration
    processing and improve the reliability of the news system through
    better locking, etc. The package was released to The Net in the
    autumn of 1987. For more information, see the paper News Need Not Be
    Slow, published in the Winter 1987 Usenix Technical Conference
    proceedings.

    Usenet software has also been ported to a number of platforms, from
    the Amiga and IBM PCs all the way to minicomputers and mainframes.

    Hierarchies
    Newsgroups are organized according to their specific areas of
    concentration. Since the groups are in a tree structure, the
    various areas are called hierarchies. There are seven major categories:

    comp
    Topics of interest to both computer professionals and
    hobbyists, including topics in computer science, software sources, and
    information on hardware and software systems.

    misc
    Group addressing themes not easily classified into any of the other
    headings or which incorporate themes from multiple categories.
    Subjects include fitness, job-hunting, law, and investments.

    sci
    Discussions marked by special knowledge relating to research in or
    application of the established sciences.

    soc
    Groups primarily addressing social issues and socializing. Included
    are discussions related to many different world cultures.

    talk
    Groups largely debate-oriented and tending to feature long
    discussions without resolution and without appreciable amounts of
    generally useful information.

    news
    Groups concerned with the news network, group maintenance, and software.

    rec
    Groups oriented towards hobbies and recreational activities

    These "world" newsgroups are (usually) circulated around the entire
    Usenet---this implies world-wide distribution. Not all groups
    actually enjoy such wide distribution, however. The European Usenet
    and Eunet sites take only a selected subset of the more "technical"
    groups, and controversial "noise" groups are often not carried by many
    sites in the U.S. and Canada (these groups are primarily under the talk
    and soc classifications). Many sites do not carry some or all of
    the comp.binaries groups because of the typically large size of
    the posts in them (being actual executable programs).

    Also available are a number of "alternative" hierarchies:

    alt
    True anarchy; anything and everything can and does appear;
    subjects include sex, the Simpsons, and privacy.

    gnu
    Groups concentrating on interests and software with the GNU
    Project of the Free Software Foundation. For further info on what the
    FSF is, FSF.

    biz
    Business-related groups.

    Moderated vs Unmoderated

    Some newsgroups insist that the discussion remain focused and
    on-target; to serve this need, moderated groups came to be. All
    articles posted to a moderated group get mailed to the group's
    moderator. He or she periodically (hopefully sooner than later)
    reviews the posts, and then either posts them individually to Usenet,
    or posts a composite digest of the articles for the past day or
    two. This is how many mailing list gateways work (for example, the
    Risks Digest).

    news.groups & news.announce.newgroups

    Being a good net.citizen includes being involved in the continuing
    growth and evolution of the Usenet system. One part of this
    involvement includes following the discussion in the groups
    news.groups and the notes in news.announce.newgroups. It is there
    that discussion goes on about the creation of new groups and
    destruction of inactive ones. Every person on Usenet is allowed and
    encouraged to vote on the creation of a newsgroup.

    How Usenet Works

    The transmission of Usenet news is entirely cooperative. Feeds are
    generally provided out of good will and the desire to distribute news
    everywhere. There are places which provide feeds for a fee (e.g.
    UUNET), but for the large part no exchange of money is involved.

    There are two major transport methods, UUCP and NNTP. The first is
    mainly modem-based and involves the normal charges for telephone
    calls. The second, NNTP, is the primary method for distributing news
    over the Internet.

    With UUCP, news is stored in batches on a site until the
    neighbor calls to receive the articles, or the feed site happens to
    call. A list of groups which the neighbor wishes to receive is
    maintained on the feed site. The Cnews system compresses its batches,
    which can dramatically reduce the transmission time necessary for a
    relatively heavy newsfeed.

    NNTP, on the other hand, offers a little more latitude with how news
    is sent. The traditional store-and-forward method is, of course,
    available. Given the "real-time" nature of the Internet, though,
    other methods have been devised. Programs now keep constant
    connections with their news neighbors, sending news nearly
    instantaneously, and can handle dozens of simultaneous feeds, both
    incoming and outgoing.

    The transmission of a Usenet article is centered around the unique
    Message-ID: header. When an NNTP site offers an article to a
    neighbor, it says it has that specific Message ID. If the neighbor
    finds it hasn't received the article yet, it tells the feed to send it
    through; this is repeated for each and every article that's waiting
    for the neighbor. Using unique IDs helps prevent a system from
    receiving five copies of an article from each of its five news
    neighbors, for example.

    Further information on how Usenet works with relation to the various
    transports is available in the documentation for the Cnews and NNTP
    packages, as well as in RFC-1036, the Standard for Interchange of
    USENET Messages and RFC-977, Network News Transfer Protocol: A
    Proposed Standard for the Stream-Based Transmission of News. The
    RFCs do tend to be rather dry reading, particularly to the new user.

    Mail Gateways

    A natural progression is for Usenet news and electronic mailing lists
    to somehow become merged---which they have, in the form of news
    gateways. Many mailing lists are set up to "reflect" messages not
    only to the readership of the list, but also into a newsgroup.
    Likewise, posts to a newsgroup can be sent to the moderator of the
    mailing list, or to the entire mailing list. Some examples of this in
    action are comp.risks (the Risks Digest) and
    comp.dcom.telecom (the Telecom Digest).

    This method of propagating mailing list traffic has helped solve the
    problem of a single message being delivered to a number of people at
    the same site---instead, anyone can just subscribe to the group.
    Also, mailing list maintenance is lowered substantially, since the
    moderators don't have to be constantly removing and adding users to
    and from the list. Instead, the people can read and not read the
    newsgroup at their leisure.

    from "Dear Emily Postnews" by Brad Templeton
    Usenet "Netiquette"

    There are many traditions with Usenet, not the least of which is
    dubbed netiquette---being polite and considerate of others. If
    you follow a few basic guidelines, you, and everyone that reads your
    posts, will be much happier in the long run.

    Signatures

    At the end of most articles is a small blurb called a person's
    signature. In Unix this file is named .signature in the
    person's login directory---it will vary for other operating systems.
    It exists to provide information about how to get in touch with the
    person posting the article, including their email address, phone
    number, address, or where they're located. Even so, signatures have
    become the graffiti of computers. People put song lyrics, pictures,
    philosophical quotes, even advertisements in their ".sigs".
    (Note, however, that advertising in your signature will more often
    than not get you flamed until you take it out.)

    Four lines will suffice---more is just extra garbage for Usenet sites
    to carry along with your article, which is supposed to be the intended
    focus of the reader. Netiquette dictates limiting oneself to this
    "quota" of four---some people make signatures that are ten lines or
    even more, including elaborate ASCII drawings of their hand-written
    signature or faces or even the space shuttle. This is not
    cute, and will bother people to no end.

    Similarly, it's not necessary to include your signature---if you
    forget to append it to an article, don't worry about it. The
    article's just as good as it ever would be, and contains everything
    you should want to say. Don't re-post the article just to include the
    signature.

    Posting Personal Messages

    If mail to a person doesn't make it through, avoid posting the message
    to a newsgroup. Even if the likelihood of that person reading the
    group is very high, all of the other people reading the articles don't
    give a whit what you have to say to Jim Morrison. Simply wait for the
    person to post again and double-check the address, or get in touch
    with your system administrator and see if it's a problem with local
    email delivery. It may also turn out that their site is down or is
    having problems, in which case it's just necessary to wait until
    things return to normal before contacting Jim.

    Posting Mail

    In the interests of privacy, it's considered extremely bad taste to post
    any email that someone may have sent, unless they explicitly give you
    permission to redistribute it. While the legal issues can be heavily
    debated, most everyone agrees that email should be treated as anything
    one would receive via normal snailmail, {The slang for the normal land and air
    postal service.} , with all of the assumed rights that are carried with it.

    Test Messages

    Many people, particularly new users, want to try out posting before
    actually taking part in discussions. Often the mechanics of getting
    messages out is the most difficult part of Usenet. To this end,
    many, many users find it necessary to post their tests to "normal"
    groups (for example, news.admin or comp.mail.misc). This is
    considered a major netiquette faux pas in the Usenet world. There are
    a number of groups available, called test groups, that exist solely
    for the purpose of trying out a news system, reader, or even new
    signature. They include

    alt.test
    gnu.gnusenet.test
    misc.test

    some of which will generate auto-magic replies to your posts to
    let you know they made it through. There are certain denizens of
    Usenet that frequent the test groups to help new users out. They
    respond to the posts, often including the article so the poster can
    see how it got to the person's site. Also, many regional hierarchies
    have test groups, like phl.test in Philadelphia.

    By all means, experiment and test---just do it in its proper place.

    Famous People Appearing

    Every once in a while, someone says that a celebrity is accessible
    through "The Net"; or, even more entertaining, an article is forged
    to appear to be coming from that celebrity. One example is Stephen
    Spielberg---the rec.arts.movies readership was in an uproar for
    two weeks following a couple of posts supposedly made by Mr.
    Spielberg. (Some detective work revealed it to be a hoax.)

    There are a few well-known people that are acquainted with
    Usenet and computers in general---but the overwhelming majority are
    just normal people. One should act with skepticism whenever a notable
    personality is "seen" in a newsgroup.

    Summaries

    Authors of articles occasionally say that readers should reply by
    mail and they'll summarize. Accordingly, readers should do just
    that---reply via mail. Responding with a followup article to such an
    article defeats the intention of the author. She, in a few days,
    will post one article containing the highlights of the responses she
    received. By following up to the whole group, the author may not
    read what you have to say.

    When creating a summary of the replies to a post, try to make it as
    reader-friendly as possible. Avoid just putting all of the messages
    received into one big file. Rather, take some time and edit the
    messages into a form that contains the essential information that
    other readers would be interested in.

    Also, sometimes people will respond but request to remain anonymous
    (one example is the employees of a corporation that feel the
    information's not proprietary, but at the same time want to protect
    themselves from political backlash). Summaries should honor this
    request accordingly by listing the From: address as
    anonymous or (Address withheld by request).

    Quoting

    When following up to an article, many newsreaders provide the facility
    to quote the original article with each line prefixed by >
    , as in

    In article <1232@foo.bar.com>, sharon@foo.bar.com wrote:
    > I agree, I think that basketweaving's really catching on,
    > particularly in Pennsylvania. Here's a list of every person
    > in PA that currently engages in it publicly:
    line ... etc ...

    This is a severe example (potentially a horribly long article), but
    proves a point. When you quote another person, edit out whatever
    isn't directly applicable to your reply. {But not changing their
    words, of course. } This gives the reader of the new article a better
    idea of what points you were addressing. By including the entire
    article, you'll only annoy those reading it. Also, signatures in the
    original aren't necessary; the readers already know who wrote it (by
    the attribution).

    Avoid being tedious with responses---rather than pick apart an
    article, address it in parts or as a whole. Addressing practically
    each and every word in an article only proves that the person
    responding has absolutely nothing better to do with his time.

    If a "war" starts (insults and personal comments get thrown back
    and forth), take it into email---exchange email with the person
    you're arguing with. No one enjoys watching people bicker
    incessantly.

    Crossposting

    The Newsgroups: line isn't limited to just one group---an
    article can be posted in a list of groups. For instance, the line

    Newsgroups: sci.space,comp.simulation

    posts the article to both the groups sci.space and
    comp.simulation. It's usually safe to crosspost to up to three
    or four groups. To list more than that is considered "excessive
    noise."

    It's also suggested that if an article is crossposted a
    Followup-To: header be included. It should name the group to
    which all additional discussion should be directed to. For the above
    example a possible Followup-To: would be

    Followup-To: sci.space

    which would make all followups automatically be posted to just
    sci.space, rather than both sci.space and comp.simulation. If every
    response made with a newsreader's "followup" command should go to
    the person posting the article no matter what, there's also a
    mechanism worked in to accommodate. The Followup-To: header should
    contain the single word poster:

    Followup-To: poster

    Certain newsreaders will use this to sense that a reply should never
    be posted back onto The Net. This is often used with questions that
    will yield a summary of information later, a vote, or an
    advertisement.

    Recent News

    One should avoid posting "recent" events---sports scores, a plane
    crash, or whatever people will see on the evening news or read in the
    morning paper. By the time the article has propagated across all of
    Usenet, the "news" value of the article will have become stale.
    (This is one case for the argument that Usenet news is a misnomer.
    {Note that the Clarinet News service (Clarinet) offers news items in
    a Usenet format as a precise alternative to the morning paper, et.
    al.)

    Quality of Postings

    How you write and present yourself in your articles is important. If
    you have terrible spelling, keep a dictionary near by. If you have
    trouble with grammar and punctuation, try to get a book on English
    grammar and composition (found in many bookstores and at garage
    sales). By all means pay attention to what you say---it makes you who
    you are on The Net.

    Likewise, try to be clear in what you ask. Ambiguous or vague
    questions often lead to no response at all, leaving the poster
    discouraged. Give as much essential information as you feel is
    necessary to let people help you, but keep it within limits. For
    instance, you should probably include the operating system of your
    computer in the post if it's needed, but don't tell everybody what
    peripherals you have hanging off of it.

    Useful Subjects

    The Subject: line of an article is what will first attract
    people to read it---if it's vague or doesn't describe what's contained
    within, no one will read the article. At the same time,
    Subject: lines that're too wordy tend to be irritating. For
    example:

    Good
    Subject: Building Emacs on a Sun Sparc under 4.1

    Good
    Subject: Tryin' to find Waldo in NJ.

    Bad
    Subject: I can't get emacs to work !!!

    Bad
    Subject: I'm desperately in search of the honorable Mr. Waldo in the state
    of...

    Simply put, try to think of what will best help the reader when he or
    she encounters your article in a newsreading session.

    Tone of Voice

    Since common computers can't portray the inflection or tone in a
    person's voice, how articles are worded can directly affect the
    response to them. If you say

    Anybody using a Vic-20 should go buy themselves a life.

    you'll definitely get some responses---telling you to take a leap.
    Rather than be inflammatory, phrase your articles in a way that
    rationally expresses your opinion, like

    What're the practical uses of a Vic-20 these days?

    which presents yourself as a much more level-headed individual.

    Also, what case (upper or lower) you use can indicate how you're
    trying to speak---netiquette dictates that if you USE ALL CAPITAL
    LETTERS, people will think you're "shouting." Write as you would in
    a normal letter to a friend, following traditional rules of English
    (or whatever language you happen to speak).

    Computer Religion

    No matter what kind of computer a person is using, theirs is always
    the best and most efficient of them all. Posting articles
    asking questions like What computer should I buy? An Atari ST or an
    Amiga? will lead only to fervent arguments over the merits and
    drawbacks of each brand. Don't even ask The Net---go to a local user
    group, or do some research of your own like reading some magazine
    reviews. Trying to say one computer is somehow better than another is
    a moot point.

    The Anatomy of an Article

    Frequently Asked Questions

    A number of groups include Frequently Asked Question (FAQ) lists,
    which give the answers to questions or points that have been raised
    time and time again in a newsgroup. They're intended to help cut
    down on the redundant traffic in a group. For example, in the
    newsgroup alt.tv.simpsons, one recurring question is Did you notice
    that there's a different blackboard opening at the beginning of every
    Simpsons episode? As a result, it's part of the FAQ for that group.

    Usually, FAQ lists are posted at the beginning of each month, and are
    set to expire one month later (when, supposedly, the next FAQ will be
    published). Nearly every FAQ is also crossposted to news.answers,
    which is used as a Usenet repository for them.

    The Pit-Manager Archive

    MIT, with Jonathan Kamens, has graciously dedicated a machine to the
    archiving and storage of the various periodic postings that are
    peppered throughout the various Usenet groups. To access them, FTP to
    the system pit-manager.mit.edu and look in the directory
    /pub/usenet.

    "Be it true or false, so it be news."
    Ben Jonson, News from the New World

    -----
    Telnet

    Telnet is the main Internet protocol for creating a connection
    with a remote machine. It gives the user the opportunity to be on one
    computer system and do work on another, which may be across the street
    or thousands of miles away. Where modems are limited, in the majority,
    by the quality of telephone lines and a single connection, telnet
    provides a connection that's error-free and nearly always faster than
    the latest conventional modems.

    Using Telnet

    As with FTP (Anonymous FTP), the actual command for negotiating a telnet
    connection varies from system to system. The most common is
    telnet itself, though. It takes the form of:

    telnet somewhere.domain

    To be safe, we'll use your local system as a working example. By now,
    you hopefully know your site's domain name. If not, ask or try
    to figure it out. You'll not get by without it.

    To open the connection, type

    telnet your.system.name

    If the system were wubba.cs.widener.edu, for example, the
    command would look like

    telnet wubba.cs.widener.edu

    The system will respond with something similar to

    Trying 147.31.254.999...
    Connected to wubba.cs.widener.edu.
    Escape character is '^]'.

    The escape character, in this example ^] (Control-]), is the
    character that will let you go back to the local system to close the
    connection, suspend it, etc. To close this connection, the user
    would type ^], and respond to the telnet> prompt with the command
    close. Local documentation should be checked for information on
    specific commands, functions, and escape character that can be used.

    Telnet Ports

    Many telnet clients also include a third option, the port on
    which the connection should take place. Normally, port 23 is the
    default telnet port; the user never has to think about it. But
    sometimes it's desirable to telnet to a different port on a system,
    where there may be a service available, or to aid in debugging a
    problem. Using

    telnet somewhere.domain port

    will connect the user to the given port on the system
    somewhere.domain. Many libraries use this port method to offer their
    facilities to the general Internet community; other services are also
    available. For instance, one would type

    telnet martini.eecs.umich.edu 3000

    to connect to the geographic server at the University of Michigan
    (Geographic Server). Other such port connections follow the
    same usage.

    Publicly Accessible Libraries

    Over the last several years, most university libraries have switched
    from a manual (card) catalog system to computerized library catalogs.
    The automated systems provide users with easily accessible and
    up-to-date information about the books available in these libraries.
    This has been further improved upon with the advent of local area
    networks, dialup modems, and wide area networks. Now many of us can
    check on our local library's holdings or that of a library halfway
    around the world!

    Many, many institutions of higher learning have made their library
    catalogs available for searching by anyone on the Internet. They
    include Boston University, the Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries
    (CARL), and London University King's College.

    To include a listing of some of the existing sites would not only be
    far too long for this document, it would soon be out of date.
    Instead, several lists are being maintained and are available either
    by mail or via FTP. Also, the Internet Resource Guide (IRG) also
    describes a few libraries that are accessible---IRG for further
    information.

    Art St. George and Ron Larsen are maintaining a list of
    Internet-accessible libraries and databases often referred to as
    "the St. George directory." It began with only library catalogs
    but has expanded to include sections on campus-wide information
    systems, and even bulletin board systems that are not on the
    Internet. The library catalog sections are divided into those that
    are free, those that charge, and international (i.e. non-U.S.)
    catalogs; they are arranged by state, province, or country within
    each section. There is also a section giving dialup information for
    some of the library catalogs. It's available for FTP (Anonymous FTP)
    on nic.cerf.net in the directory
    cerfnet/cerfnet_info/library_catalog. The file internet-catalogs has
    a date suffix; check for the most current date. The information is
    updated periodically.

    Billy Barron, Systems Manager at the University of North Texas,
    produces a directory as an aid to his user community. It complements
    the St. George guide by providing a standard format for all systems
    which lists the Internet address, login instructions, the system
    vendor, and logoff information. The arrangement is alphabetic by
    organization name. It's available for FTP on vaxb.acs.unt.edu in the
    subdirectory library as the file libraries.txt.

    For announcements of new libraries being available and discussion on
    related topics, consult the Usenet newsgroup
    comp.internet.library (Usenet News to learn how to read
    news).

    Bulletin Board Systems

    The Cleveland Freenet

    Freenets are open-access, free, community computer systems. One such
    system is the Cleveland Freenet, sponsored by CWRU (Case Western
    Reserve University). Anyone and everyone is welcome to join and take
    part in the exciting project---that of a National Telecomputing Public
    Network, where everyone benefits. There's no charge for the
    registration process and no charge to use the system.

    To register, telnet to any one of

    freenet-in-a.cwru.edu
    freenet-in-b.cwru.edu
    freenet-in-c.cwru.edu

    After you're connected, choose the entry on the menu that signifies
    you're a guest user. Another menu will follow; select Apply for
    an account, and you'll be well on your way to being a FreeNet member.

    You will need to fill out a form and send it to them through the
    Postal Service---your login id and password will be created in a few
    days. At that point you're free to use the system as you wish. They
    provide multi-user chat, email, Usenet news, and a variety of other
    things to keep you occupied for hours on end.

    Directories

    There are a few systems that are maintained to provide the Internet
    community with access to lists of information---users, organizations,
    etc. They range from fully dedicated computers with access to papers
    and research results, to a system to find out about the faculty
    members of a university.

    Knowbot

    Knowbot is a "master directory" that contains email address
    information from the NIC WHOIS database (Whois), the PSI White
    Pages Pilot Project, the NYSERNET X.500 database and MCI Mail. Most
    of these services are email registries themselves, but Knowbot
    provides a very comfortable way to access all of them in one place.
    Telnet to nri.reston.va.us on port 185.

    White Pages

    PSI maintains a directory of information on individuals. It will
    list the person's name, organization, and email address if it is
    given. Telnet to wp.psi.net and log in as fred. The White Pages
    Project also includes an interface to use Xwindows remotely.

    Faculty and Staff Listings

    Many universities offer access to information on current faculty and
    staff. Included are:

    Cornell Telnet to cuinfo.cornell.edu on port 3000.
    NC State Telnet to ccvax1.cc.ncsu.edu and log in as info.
    Rutgers Telnet to hangout.rutgers.edu on port 98.
    U of Maryland Telnet to umail.umd.edu and log in as lookup.
    UNC Chapel Hill Telnet to info.acs.unc.edu and log in as info.
    Yale Telnet to yalevm.ycc.yale.edu on port 300.

    Databases

    For information on database services, Commercial Databases.
    Not all databases on the Internet require payment for use, though.
    There do exist some, largely research-driven databases, which are
    publicly accessible. New ones spring up regularly.

    To find out more about the databases in this section, contact the
    people directly responsible for them. Their areas of concentration
    and the software used to implement them are widely disparate, and are
    probably beyond the author's expertise. Also, don't forget to check
    with your local library---the reference librarian there can provide
    information on conventional resources, and possibly even those
    available over the Internet (they are becoming more common).

    Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries (CARL)

    The Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries (CARL), in association
    with CARL Systems Inc., operates a public access catalog of services.
    Offered are a number of library databases, including searches for
    government periodicals, book reviews, indices for current articles,
    and access to to other library databases around the country. Other
    services are available to CARL members including an online
    encyclopedia. Telnet to pac.carl.org, or write to help@carl.org for
    more details.

    PENpages

    PENpages is an agriculturally-oriented database administered by
    Pennsylvania State University. Information entered into PENpages is
    provided by numerous sources including the Pennsylvania Dept. of
    Agriculture, Rutgers University, and Penn State. Easy-to-use menus
    guide users to information ranging from cattle and agricultural
    prices to current weather information, from health information to
    agricultural news from around the nation. A keyword search option
    also allows users to search the database for related information and
    articles. The database is updated daily, and a listing of most
    recent additions is displayed after login. Telnet to psupen.psu.edu
    and log in as the user PNOTPA.

    Clemson Univ. Forestry & Agricultural Network

    Clemson maintains a database similar to PENpages in content, but the
    information provided tends to be localized to the Southeastern United
    States. A menu-driven database offers queries involving the weather,
    food, family, and human resources. Telnet to eureka.clemson.edu and
    log in as PUBLIC. You need to be on a good VT100 emulator (or a real
    VT terminal).

    University of Maryland Info Database

    The Computer Science department of the University of Maryland
    maintains a repository of information on a wide variety of topics.
    They wish to give a working example of how network technology can
    (and should) provide as much information as possible to those who use
    it. Telnet to info.umd.edu and log in as info. The information
    contained in the database is accessible through a screen-oriented
    interface, and everything therein is available via anonymous FTP.

    There is a mailing list used to discuss the UMD Info Database,
    welcoming suggestions for new information, comments on the interface
    the system provides, and other related topics. Send mail to
    listserv@umdd.umd.edu with a body of

    subscribe INFO-L Your Full Name

    Listservs for more information on using the Listserv system.

    University of Michigan Weather Underground

    The University of Michigan's Department of Atmospheric, Oceanic, &
    Space Sciences maintains a database of weather and related
    information for the United States and Canada. Available are current
    weather conditions and forecasts for cities in the U.S., a national
    weather summary, ski conditions, earthquake and hurricane updates,
    and a listing of severe weather conditions. Telnet to
    madlab.sprl.umich.edu on port 3000 to use the system.

    Geographic Name Server

    A geographic database listing information for cities in the United
    States and some international locations is maintained by Merit, Inc.
    The database is searchable by city name, zip code, etc. It will
    respond with a lot of information: the area code,
    elevation, time zone, and longitude and latitude are included. For
    example, a query of 19013 yields

    0 Chester
    1 42045 Delaware
    2 PA Pennsylvania
    3 US United States
    F 45 Populated place
    L 39 50 58 N 75 21 22 W
    P 45794
    E 22
    Z 19013
    Z 19014
    Z 19015
    Z 19016
    ..

    To use the server, telnet to martini.eecs.umich.edu on port
    3000. The command help will yield further instructions, along
    with an explanation for each of the fields in a reponse.

    FEDIX---Minority Scholarship Information

    FEDIX is an on-line information service that links the higher
    education community and the federal government to facilitate research,
    education, and services. The system provides accurate and timely
    federal agency information to colleges, universities, and other
    research organizations. There are no registration fees and no access
    charges for FEDIX whatsoever.

    FEDIX offers the Minority On-Line Information Service (MOLIS), a
    database listing current information about Black and Hispanic colleges
    and universities.

    Daily information updates are made on federal education and research
    programs, scholarships, fellowships, and grants, available used
    research equipment, and general information about FEDIX itself. To
    access the database, telnet to fedix.fie.com and log in as
    fedix.

    Science & Technology Information System

    The STIS is maintained by the National Science Foundation (NSF), and
    provides access to many NSF publications. The full text of
    publications can be searched online and copied from the system, which
    can accommodate up to ten users at one time. Telnet to stis.nsf.gov
    and log in as public. Everything on the system is also available via
    anonymous FTP. For further information, contact:

    STIS, Office of Information Systems, Room 401
    National Science Foundation
    1800 G. Street, N.W.
    Washington, D.C. 20550
    stis-request@nsf.gov
    (202) 357-7492
    (202) 357-7663 (Fax)

    Ocean Network Information Center

    The University of Delaware College of Marine Studies offers access to
    an interactive database of research information covering all aspects
    of marine studies, nicknamed OCEANIC. This includes the World Oceanic
    Circulation Experiment (WOCE) information and program information,
    research ship schedules and information, and a Who's Who of email and
    mailing addresses for oceanic studies. Data from a variety of
    academic institutions based on research studies is also available.
    Telnet to delocn.udel.edu and log in as INFO.

    NASA/IPAC Extragalactic Database (NED)

    The NASA/IPAC Extragalactic Database (NED) is an ongoing project,
    funded by NASA, to make data and literature on extragalactic objects
    available over computer networks. NED is an object-oriented database
    which contains extensive information for nearly 132,000 extragalactic
    objects taken from about major catalogs of galaxies, quasars, infrared
    and radio sources. NED provides positions, names, and other basic
    data (e.g. magnitude types, sizes and redshifts as well as
    bibliographic references and abstracts). Searches can be done by
    name, around a name, and on an astronomical position. NED contains a
    tutorial which guides the user through the retrieval process. Telnet
    to ipac.caltech.edu and log in as ned.

    U.S. Naval Observatory Automated Data Service

    Operated by the U.S. Naval Observatory in Washington, D.C., this
    automated data service provides database access to information
    ranging from current navigational satellite positioning, astronomical
    data, and software utilities. A wide variety of databases can be
    searched and instructions for file transfer are given. Telnet to
    tycho.usno.navy.mil and log in as ads.

    "My consciousness suddenly switched locations, for the first time in
    my life, from the vicinity of my head and body to a point about
    twenty feet away from where I normally see the world." Howard
    Rheingold, Virtual Reality p255

    -----------------
    Various Tools

    New and interesting ways to use the Internet are being dreamed up
    every day. As they gain wide-spread use, some methods become
    near-standard (or actual written standard) tools for Internet users to
    take advantage of. A few are detailed here; there are undoubtedly
    others, and new ideas spring up all the time. An active user of the
    Internet will discover most of the more common ones in time. Usually,
    these services are free. Commercial Services for applications
    that are commercially available over the Internet.

    Usenet is often used to announce a new service or capability on
    the Internet. In particular, the groups comp.archives and
    comp.protocols.tcp-ip are good places to look. Information
    will drift into other areas as word spreads. Usenet News for
    information on reading news.

    Finger

    On many systems there exists the finger command, which yield
    information about each user that's currently logged in. This command
    also has extensions for use over the Internet, as well. Under normal
    circumstances, the command is simply finger for a summary of who's
    logged into the local system, or finger username for specific
    information about a user. It's also possible to go one step further
    and go onto the network. The general usage is

    finger @hostname

    To see who's currently logged in at Widener University, for instance, use

    % finger @cs.widener.edu
    [cs.widener.edu]
    Login Name TTY Idle When Where
    brendan Brendan Kehoe p0 Fri 02:14 tattoo.cs.widene
    sven Sven Heinicke p1 Fri 04:16 xyplex3.cs.widen

    To find out about a certain user, they can be fingered specifically
    (and need not be logged in):

    % finger bart@cs.widener.edu
    [cs.widener.edu]
    Login name: bart In real life: Bart Simpson
    Directory: /home/springfield/bart Shell: /bin/underachiever
    Affiliation: Brother of Lisa Home System: channel29.fox.org
    Last login Thu May 23 12:14 (EDT) on ttyp6 from channel29.fox.org.
    No unread mail
    Project: To become a "fluff" cartoon character.
    Plan:
    Don't have a cow, man.

    Please realize that some sites are very security conscious, and need
    to restrict the information about their systems and users available
    to the outside world. To that end, they often block finger requests
    from outside sites---so don't be surprised if fingering a computer or
    a user returns with Connection refused.

    Internet Relay Chat

    The Lamont View Server System
    On lamont.ldgo.columbia.edu in pub/gb.tar.Z.

    Ping

    The ping command allows the user to check if another system is
    currently "up" and running. The general form of the command
    is ping system. {The usage will, again, vary.}
    For example,

    ping cs.widener.edu

    will tell you if the main machine in Widener University's Computer
    Science lab is currently online (we certainly hope so!).

    Many implementations of ping also include an option to let you
    see how fast a link is running (to give you some idea of the load on
    the network). For example:

    % ping -s cs.swarthmore.edu
    PING cs.swarthmore.edu: 56 data bytes
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=0 ttl=251 time=66 ms
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=1 ttl=251 time=45 ms
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=2 ttl=251 time=46 ms
    ^C
    --- cs.swarthmore.edu ping statistics ---
    3 packets transmitted, 3 packets received, 0% packet loss
    round-trip min/avg/max = 45/52/66 ms

    This case tells us that for cs.swarthmore.edu it takes about 46
    milliseconds for a packet to go from Widener to Swarthmore College and
    back again. It also gives the average and worst-case speeds, and any
    packet loss that may have occurred (e.g. because of network
    congestion).

    While ping generally doesn't hurt network performance, you
    shouldn't use it too often---usually once or twice will leave
    you relatively sure of the other system's state.

    Talk

    Sometimes email is clumsy and difficult to manage when one really
    needs to have an interactive conversation. The Internet provides for
    that as well, in the form of talk. Two users can literally see
    each other type across thousands of miles.

    To talk with Bart Simpson at Widener, one would type

    talk bart@@cs.widener.edu

    which would cause a message similar to the following to be displayed
    on Bart's terminal:

    Message from Talk_Daemon@cs.widener.edu at 21:45 ...
    talk: connection requested by joe@ee.someplace.edu
    talk: respond with: talk joe@ee.someplace.edu

    Bart would, presumably, respond by typing talk joe@ee.someplace.edu.
    They could then chat about whatever they wished, with instantaneous
    response time, rather than the write-and-wait style of email. To
    leave talk, on many systems one would type Ctrl-C (hold down
    the Control key and press C). Check local documentation to be sure.

    There are two different versions of talk in common use today. The
    first, dubbed "old talk," is supported by a set of Unix systems
    (most notably, those currently sold by Sun). The second, ntalk
    (aka "new talk"), is more of the standard. If, when attempting to
    talk with another user, it responds with an error about protocol
    families, odds are the incompatibilities between versions of talk is
    the culprit. It's up to the system administrators of sites which use
    the old talk to install ntalk for their users.

    Wide Area Information Servers (WAIS)

    The WHOIS Database

    The main WHOIS database is run at the Network Information Center
    (NIC). The whois command will let you search a database of every
    registered domain (e.g. mit.edu) and of registered users. It's
    primarily used by system postmasters or listowners to find the Points
    of Contact for a site, to let them know of a problem or contact them
    for one reason or another. You can also find out their postal
    address. For example:

    % whois mit.edu
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) MIT.EDU 18.72.2.1
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT-DOM) MIT.EDU

    Note that there are two entries for mit.edu; we'll go for the
    second.

    % whois mit-dom
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT-DOM)
    Cambridge, MA 02139

    Domain Name: MIT.EDU

    Administrative Contact, Technical Contact, Zone Contact:
    Schiller, Jeffrey I. (JIS) JIS@MIT.EDU
    (617) 253-8400

    Record last updated on 22-Jun-88.

    Domain servers in listed order:
    STRAWB.MIT.EDU 18.71.0.151
    W20NS.MIT.EDU 18.70.0.160
    BITSY.MIT.EDU 18.72.0.3
    LITHIUM.LCS.MIT.EDU 18.26.0.121

    To see this host record with registered users, repeat the command with
    a star ('*') before the name; or, use '%' to show JUST the registered users.

    Much better! Now this information (sought, possibly, by a system
    administrator) can be used to find out how to notify MIT of a security
    issue or problem with connectivity.

    Queries can be made for individuals as well; the following would yield
    an entry for the author:

    % whois brendan
    Kehoe, Brendan (BK59) brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Widener University
    Department of Computer Science
    Kirkbride 219
    P.O. Box 83 Widener University
    Chester, PA 19013
    (215)/499-4011

    Record last updated on 02-May-91.

    Included is the author's name, his handle (a unique sequence of letters
    and numbers), information on how to contact him, and the last time the record
    was modified in any way.

    Anyone can register with the whois database. People who are
    administrative or technical contacts for domains are registered
    automatically when their domain applications are processed. For
    normal users, one must simply fill out a form from the NIC. FTP to
    nic.ddn.mil and get the file netinfo/user-template.txt. The completed
    form should be mailed to registrar@nic.ddn.mil.

    Other Uses of WHOIS

    Also, many educational sites run WHOIS servers of their own, to offer
    information about people who may be currently on the staff or
    attending the institution. To specify a WHOIS server, many
    implementations include some sort of option or qualifier---in VMS
    under MultiNet, it's /HOST, in Unix -h. To receive
    information about using the Stanford server, one might use the command

    whois -h stanford.edu help

    A large list of systems offering WHOIS services is being maintained by
    Matt Power of MIT (mhpower@stan.mit.edu). It is available via
    anonymous FTP from sipb.mit.edu, in the directory
    pub/whois. The file is named whois-servers.list.

    The systems available include, but are certainly not limited to,
    Syracuse University (syr.edu), New York University
    (acfcluster.nyu.edu), the University of California at San Diego
    (ucsd.edu), and Stanford University (stanford.edu).

    "Fingers were made before forks."
    Jonathan Swift, Polite Conversation

    -------
    Commercial Services

    Many services can be accessed through the Internet. As time
    progresses and more outlets for commercial activity appear,
    once-restricted traffic (by the NSFnet Acceptable Use Policy) may now
    flow freely. Now that there are other networks for that information
    to travel on, businesses are making their move.

    Internet Service Providers

    Providers (AlterNet, PSI, etc)...

    Supercomputers
    The Internet Resource Guide (IRG) contains a chapter on
    computer time that's available for a fee. Rather than reproduce it
    here, which would fast become out-of-date as well as triple the size
    of this guide, it's suggested that the reader consult the IRG if such
    services are of interest.

    Electronic Journals

    The Association of Research Libraries (ARL) publishes a hard-copy
    directory of electronic journals, newsletters, and scholarly
    discussion lists. It is a compilation of entries for hundreds of

    sts, dozens of journals and newsletters, and a many
    "other" titles, including newsletter-digests, into one reference
    source. Each entry includes instructions on how to access the
    referenced publication or list.

    The documents are available electronically by sending the commands

    get ejournl1 directry
    get ejournl2 directry

    to the server at LISTSERV@OTTAWA.BITNET.
    Listservs for further instructions on using a listserv.

    The directory, along with a compilation by Diane Kovacs called
    Directories of Academic E-Mail Conferences, is available in
    print and on diskette (DOS WordPerfect and MacWord) from:

    Office of Scientific & Academic Publishing
    Association of Research Libraries
    1527 New Hampshire Avenue, NW
    Washington, DC 20036
    ARLHQ@UMDC.BITNET
    (202) 232--2466
    (202) 462--7849 (Fax)

    The ARL is a not-for-profit organization representing over one
    hundred research libraries in the United States and Canada. The
    publication is available to ARL members for $10 and to non-members
    for $20 (add $5 postage per directory for foreign addresses). Orders
    of six or more copies will receive a 10% discount; all orders must be
    prepaid and sent to the ARL.

    Commercial Databases

    The American Institute of Physics maintains the Physics Information
    Network. It contains the bibliographic SPIN and General Physics
    Advanced Abstracts databases. Also available is access to bulletin
    boards and several searchable lists (job notices, announcements, etc).
    Telnet to pinet.aip.org; new users must log in as NEW
    and give registration information.

    Some of the databases accessible through WAIS (WAIS) are
    available for a fee.

    Clarinet News

    Clarinet's an electronic publishing network service that provides
    professional news and information, including live UPI wireservice
    news, in the Usenet file format.

    Clarinet lets you read an "electronic newspaper" right on the local
    system; you can get timely industry news, technology related
    wirestories, syndicated columns and features, financial information,
    stock quotes and more.

    Clarinet's provided by using the Usenet message interchange format,
    and is available via UUCP and other delivery protocols, including
    NNTP.

    The main feature is ClariNews, an "electronic newspaper,"
    gathered live from the wire services of United Press International
    (UPI). ClariNews articles are distributed in 100 newsgroups based on
    their subject matter, and are keyworded for additional topics and the
    geographical location of the story. ClariNews includes headlines,
    industry news, box scores, network TV schedules, and more. The main
    products of ClariNews are:

    ClariNews General, the general news"paper" with news,
    sports, and features, averaging about 400 stories per day.

    TechWire, special groups for stories on science,
    technology, and industry stories around them.

    ClariNews-Biz, business and financial stories.

    Newsbytes, a daily computer industry newsmagazine.

    Syndicated Columns, including Dave Barry (humor) and Mike
    Royko (opinion).

    Full information on ClariNet, including subscription information, is
    available from

    Clarinet Communications Corp.
    124 King St. North
    Waterloo, Ontario N2J 2X8
    info@@clarinet.com
    (800) USE-NETS

    or with anonymous FTP in the directory /Clarinet on
    ftp.uu.net (Anonymous FTP).

    "Needless to say, Aristotle did not envisage modern finance."
    Frederick Copleston, S.J.
    A History of Philosophy: Vol 1 Greece & Rome Part II, p95

    ---------
    Things You'll Hear About

    There are certain things that you'll hear about shortly after you
    start actively using the Internet. Most people assume that everyone's
    familiar with them, and they require no additional explanation. If
    only that were true!

    This section addresses a few topics that are commonly encountered and
    asked about as a new user explores Cyberspace. Some of them are
    directly related to how the networks are run today; other points are
    simply interesting to read about.

    The Internet Worm

    from a letter by Severo M. Ornstein, in ACM June 89 Vol32 No6
    and the appeal notice

    On November 2, 1988, Robert Morris, Jr., a graduate student in
    Computer Science at Cornell, wrote an experimental, self-replicating,
    self-propagating program called a worm and injected it into the
    Internet. He chose to release it from MIT, to disguise the fact that
    the worm came from Cornell. Morris soon discovered that the program
    was replicating and reinfecting machines at a much faster rate than
    he had anticipated---there was a bug. Ultimately, many machines at
    locations around the country either crashed or became "catatonic."
    When Morris realized what was happening, he contacted a friend at
    Harvard to discuss a solution. Eventually, they sent an anonymous
    message from Harvard over the network, instructing programmers how to
    kill the worm and prevent reinfection. However, because the network
    route was clogged, this message did not get through until it was too
    late. Computers were affected at many sites, including universities,
    military sites, and medical research facilities. The estimated cost
    of dealing with the worm at each installation ranged from $200 to
    more than $53,000. {Derived in part from a letter by Severo M.
    Ornstein, in the Communications of the ACM, Vol 32 No 6, June 1989.}

    The program took advantage of a hole in the debug mode of the Unix
    sendmail program, which runs on a system and waits for other systems
    to connect to it and give it email, and a hole in the finger daemon
    fingerd, which serves finger requests (Finger). People at the
    University of California at Berkeley and MIT had copies of the
    program and were actively disassembling it (returning the program
    back into its source form) to try to figure out how it worked.

    Teams of programmers worked non-stop to come up with at least a
    temporary fix, to prevent the continued spread of the worm. After
    about twelve hours, the team at Berkeley came up with steps that
    would help retard the spread of the virus. Another method was also
    discovered at Purdue and widely published. The information didn't
    get out as quickly as it could have, however, since so many sites had
    completely disconnected themselves from the network.

    After a few days, things slowly began to return to normalcy and
    everyone wanted to know who had done it all. Morris was later named
    in The New York Times as the author (though this hadn't yet been
    officially proven, there was a substantial body of evidence pointing
    to Morris).

    Robert T. Morris was convicted of violating the computer Fraud and
    Abuse Act (Title 18), and sentenced to three years of probation, 400
    hours of community service, a fine of $10,050, and the costs of his
    supervision. His appeal, filed in December, 1990, was rejected the
    following March.

    The Cuckoo's Egg

    First in an article entitled "Stalking the Wily Hacker," and later
    in the book The Cuckoo's Egg, Clifford Stoll detailed his experiences
    trying to track down someone breaking into a system at Lawrence
    Berkeley Laboratory in California. {See the bibliography for full
    citations.}

    A 75-cent discrepancy in the Lab's accounting records led Stoll on a
    chase through California, Virginia, and Europe to end up in a small
    apartment in Hannover, West Germany. Stoll dealt with many levels of
    bureaucracy and red tape, and worked with the FBI, the CIA, and the
    German Bundespost trying to track his hacker down.

    The experiences of Stoll, and particularly his message in speaking
    engagements, have all pointed out the dire need for communication
    between parties on a network of networks. The only way everyone can
    peacefully co-exist in Cyberspace is by ensuring rapid recognition of
    any existing problems.

    Organizations

    The indomitable need for humans to congregate and share their common
    interests is also present in the computing world. User groups
    exist around the world, where people share ideas and experiences.
    Similarly, there are organizations which are one step "above" user
    groups; that is to say, they exist to encourage or promote an idea or
    set of ideas, rather than support a specific computer or application
    of computers.

    The Association for Computing Machinery

    The Association for Computing Machinery (the ACM) was founded in
    1947, immediately after Eckert and Mauchly unveiled one of the first
    electronic computers, the ENIAC, in 1946. Since then, the ACM has
    grown by leaps and bounds, becoming one of the leading educational
    and scientific societies in the computer industry.

    The ACM's stated purposes are:

    To advance the sciences and arts of information processing;

    To promote the free interchange of information about the sciences and
    arts of information processing both among specialists and among the
    public;

    To develop and maintain the integrity and competence of individuals
    engaged in the practices of the sciences and arts of information
    processing.

    Membership in the ACM has grown from seventy-eight in September, 1947,
    to over 77,000 today. There are local chapters around the world, and
    many colleges and universities endorse student chapters. Lecturers
    frequent these meetings, which tend to be one step above the normal
    "user group" gathering. A large variety of published material is
    also available at discounted prices for members of the association.

    The ACM has a number of Special Interest Groups (SIGs) that
    concentrate on a certain area of computing, ranging from graphics to
    the Ada programming language to security. Each of the SIGs also
    publishes its own newsletter. There is a Usenet group, comp.org.acm,
    for the discussion of ACM topics. Usenet News for more information
    on reading news.

    For more information and a membership application, write to:

    Assocation for Computing Machinery
    1515 Broadway
    New York City, NY 10036
    ACMHELP@ACMVM.BITNET
    (212) 869-7440

    Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility
    from their letter to prospective members

    The CPSR is an alliance of computer professionals concentrating on
    certain areas of the impact of computer technology on society. It
    traces its history to the fall of 1981, when several researchers in
    Palo Alto, California, organized a lunch meeting to discuss their
    shared concerns about the connection between computing and the
    nuclear arms race. Out of that meeting and the discussions which
    followed, CPSR was born, and has been active ever since. {This
    section is part of the CPSR's letter to prospective members.}

    The national CPSR program focuses on the following project areas:

    Reliability and Risk This area reflects on the concern that
    overreliance on computing technology can lead to unacceptable risks
    to society. It includes, but isn't limited to, work in analyzing
    military systems such as SDI.

    Civil Liberties and Privacy This project is concerned with such
    topics as the FBI National Crime Information Center, the growing use
    of databases by both government and private industry, the right of
    access to public information, extension of First Amendment rights to
    electronic communication, and establishing legal protections for
    privacy of computerized information.

    Computers in the Workplace The CPSR Workplace Project has
    concentrated its attention on the design of software for the
    workplace, and particularly on the philosophy of "participatory
    design," in which software designers work together with users to
    ensure that systems meet the actual needs of that workplace.

    The 21st Century Project This is a coalition with other
    professional organizations working towards redirecting national
    research priorities from concentrating on military issues to
    anticipating and dealing with future problems as science and
    technology enter the next century.

    For more information on the CPSR, contact them at:

    Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility
    P.O. Box 717
    Palo Alto, CA 94302
    cpsr@csli.stanford.edu
    (415) 322--3778
    (415) 322--3798 (Fax)

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) was established to help
    civilize the "electronic frontier"---the Cyberspacial medium
    becoming ever-present in today's society; to make it truly useful and
    beneficial not just to a technical elite, but to everyone; and to do
    this in a way which is in keeping with the society's highest
    traditions of the free and open flow of information and
    communication. {This section was derived from eff.about, available
    along with other material via anonymous FTP from ftp.eff.org}

    The mission of the EFF is to engage in and support educational
    activities which increase popular understanding of the opportunities
    and challenges posed by developments in computing and
    telecommunications;

    to develop among policy-makers a better understanding of the
    issues underlying free and open telecommunications, and support the
    creation of legal and structural approaches which will ease the
    assimilation of these new technologies by society;

    to raise public awareness about civil liberties issues arising from
    the rapid advancement in the area of new computer-based
    communications media and, where necessary, support litigation in the
    public interest to preserve, protect, and extend First Amendment
    rights within the realm of computing and telecommunications
    technology;

    to encourage and support the development of new tools which will
    endow non-technical users with full and easy access to computer-based
    telecommunications;

    The Usenet newsgroups comp.org.eff.talk and comp.org.eff.news are
    dedicated to discussion concerning the EFF. They also have mailing
    list counterparts for those that don't have access to Usenet,
    eff-talk-request@eff.org and eff-news-request@eff.org. The first is
    an informal arena (aka a normal newsgroup) where anyone may voice his
    or her opinions. The second, comp.org.eff.news, is a moderated area
    for regular postings from the EFF in the form of EFFector Online. To
    submit a posting for the EFFector Online, or to get general
    information about the EFF, write to eff@eff.org. There is also a
    wealth of information available via anonymous FTP on ftp.eff.org.

    The EFF can be contacted at

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation, Inc.
    155 Second St. #1
    Cambridge, MA 02141
    eff@eff.org
    (617) 864-0665
    (617) 864-0866 (Fax)

    The Free Software Foundation

    The Free Software Foundation was started by Richard Stallman (creator
    of the popular GNU Emacs editor). It is dedicated to eliminating
    restrictions on copying, redistributing, and modifying software.

    The word "free" in their name does not refer to price; it refers to
    freedom. First, the freedom to copy a program and redistribute it to
    your neighbors, so that they can use it as well as you. Second, the
    freedom to change a program, so that you can control it instead of it
    controlling you; for this, the source code must be made available to
    you.

    The Foundation works to provide these freedoms by developing free
    compatible replacements for proprietary software. Specifically, they
    are putting together a complete, integrated software system called
    "GNU" that is upward-compatible with Unix. {As an aside, the editor
    of the GNU project, emacs, contains a built-in LISP interpreter and a
    large part of its functionality is written in LISP. The name GNU is
    itself recursive (the mainstay of the LISP language); it stands for
    "Gnu's Not Unix."}

    When it is released, everyone will be permitted to copy it and
    distribute it to others. In addition, it will be distributed with
    source code, so you will be able to learn about operating systems by
    reading it, to port it to your own machine, and to exchange the
    changes with others.

    For more information on the Free Software Foundation and the status of
    the GNU Project, or for a list of the current tasks that still need to
    be done, write to gnu@prep.ai.mit.edu.

    The IEEE

    Need IEEE...

    The League for Programming Freedom

    The League for Programming Freedom is a grass-roots organization of
    professors, students, businessmen, programmers and users dedicated to
    "bringing back" the freedom to write programs, which they contend
    has been lost over the past number years. The League is not opposed
    to the legal system that Congress intended--copyright on individual
    programs. Their aim is to reverse the recent changes made by judges in
    response to special interests, often explicitly rejecting the public
    interest principles of the Constitution.

    The League works to abolish the new monopolies by publishing articles,
    talking with public officials, boycotting egregious offenders, and in
    the future may intervene in court cases. On May 24, 1989, the League
    picketed Lotus headquarters because of their lawsuits, and then
    again on August 2, 1990. These marches stimulated widespread media
    coverage for the issue. They welcome suggestions for other
    activities, as well as help in carrying them out.

    For information on the League and how to join, write to

    League for Programming Freedom
    1 Kendall Square #143
    P.O. Box 9171
    Cambridge, MA 02139
    league@prep.ai.mit.edu

    Networking Initiatives

    Research and development are two buzz words often heard when
    discussing the networking field---everything needs to go faster, over
    longer distances, for a lower cost. To "keep current," one should
    read the various trade magazines and newspapers, or frequent the
    networking-oriented newsgroups of Usenet. If possible, attend trade
    shows and symposia like Usenix, Interop, et. al.

    ISDN

    NREN

    The National Research and Education Network (NREN) is a five-year
    project approved by Congress in the Fall of 1991. It's intended to
    create a national electronic "super-highway." The NREN will be 50
    times faster than the fastest available networks (at the time of this
    writing). Proponents of the NREN claim it will be possible to
    transfer the equivalent of the entire text of the Encyclopedia
    Britannica in one second. Further information, including the
    original text of the bill presented by Senator Al Gore (D--TN), is
    available through anonymous FTP to nis.nsf.net, in the directory
    nsfnet. In addition, Vint Cerf wrote on the then-proposed NREN in
    RFC-1167, Thoughts on the National Research and Education Network.
    RFCs for information on obtaining RFCs.

    A mailing list, nren-discuss@uu.psi.com, is available for
    discussion of the NREN; write to
    nren-discuss-request@uu.psi.com to be added.

    "To talk in publick, to think in solitude,
    to read and to hear, to inquire,
    and to answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar."
    Samuel Johnson
    Chapter VIII
    The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia

    -----
    Finding Out More

    Internet Resource Guide

    The NSF Network Service Center (NNSC) compiles and makes available an
    Internet Resource Guide (IRG). The goal of the guide is to increase the
    visibility of various Internet resources that may help users do their
    work better. While not yet an exhaustive list, the guide is a useful
    compendium of many resources and can be a helpful reference for a new
    user.

    Resources listed are grouped by types into sections. Current sections
    include descriptions of online library catalogs, data archives, online
    white pages directory services, networks, network information centers,
    and computational resources, such as supercomputers. Each entry
    describes the resource, identifies who can use the resource, explains
    how to reach the local network via the Internet, and lists contacts
    for more information. The list is distributed electronically by the
    NNSC. To receive a guide, or to get on a mailing list that alerts you
    to when it is updated, send a message to
    resource-guide-request@nnsc.nsf.net.

    The current edition of the IRG is available via anonymous FTP from
    nnsc.nsf.net, in the directory /resource-guide.

    Requests for Comments

    The internal workings of the Internet are defined by a set of
    documents called RFCs (Request for Comments). The general process
    for creating an RFC is for someone wanting something formalized to
    write a document describing the issue and mailing it to Jon Postel
    (postel@isi.edu). He acts as a referee for the proposal. It is then
    commented upon by all those wishing to take part in the discussion
    (electronically, of course). It may go through multiple revisions.
    Should it be generally accepted as a good idea, it will be assigned a
    number and filed with the RFCs.

    The RFCs can be divided into five groups: required, suggested,
    directional, informational and obsolete. Required RFCs (e.g.,
    RFC-791, The Internet Protocol) must be implemented on any host
    connected to the Internet.

    Suggested RFCs are generally implemented by network hosts. Lack of
    them does not preclude access to the Internet, but may impact its
    usability. RFC-793, Transmission Control Protocol, is a must for
    those implementing TCP.

    Directional RFCs were discussed and agreed to, but their application
    has never come into wide use. This may be due to the lack of wide
    need for the specific application (RFC-937, The Post Office Protocol) or
    that, although technically superior, ran against other pervasive
    approaches (RFC-891, Hello). It is suggested that, should the facility
    be required by a particular site, an implementation be done in
    accordance with the RFC. This ensures that, should the idea be one
    whose time has come, the implementation will be in accordance with
    some standard and will be generally usable.

    Informational RFCs contain factual information about the Internet and
    its operation (RFC-990, Assigned Numbers).

    There is also a subset of RFCs called FYIs (For Your Information).
    They are written in a language much more informal than that used in
    the other, standard RFCs. Topics range from answers to common
    questions for new and experienced users to a suggested bibliography.

    Finally, as the Internet has grown and technology has changed, some
    RFCs become unnecessary. These obsolete RFCs cannot be ignored,
    however. Frequently when a change is made to some RFC that causes a
    new one to obsolete others, the new RFC only contains explanations and
    motivations for the change. Understanding the model on which the
    whole facility is based may involve reading the original and
    subsequent RFCs on the topic.

    RFCs and FYIs are available via FTP from many sources, including:

    The nic.ddn.mil archive, as /rfc/rfc-xxxx.txt, where
    xxxx is the number of the RFC.

    from ftp.uu.net, in the directory /RFC.

    They're also available through mail by writing to
    service@nic.ddn.mil, with a Subject: line of send RFC-xxxx.TXT, again
    with xxxx being the RFC number.

    "Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we
    know where we can find information upon it."
    Samuel Johnson
    Letter to Lord Chesterfield
    February, 1755
    a book of quotes said April 18, 1775 .. the book of Johnson's works
    said it's 1755; I'll go with the latter.

    -------
    Conclusion

    This guide is far from complete---the Internet changes on a daily (if
    not hourly) basis. However, this booklet should provide enough
    information to make the incredible breadth and complexity of the
    Internet a mite less imposing. Coupled with some exploration and
    experimentation, every user has the potential to be a competent net
    citizen, using the facilities that are available to their fullest.

    You, the reader, are strongly encouraged to suggest improvements to
    any part of this booklet. If something was unclear, left you with
    doubts, or wasn't addressed, it should be fixed. If you find any
    problems, inaccuracies, spelling errors, etc., please report them to:

    Brendan Kehoe
    Department of Computer Science
    Widener University
    Chester, PA 19013

    Internet: guide-bugs@cs.widener.edu
    UUCP: ...!widener!guide-bugs

    If you are interested in future updates to this guide (aside from
    normal new editions), discussion about information to be included or
    removed, etc., write to guide-request@cs.widener.edu to be placed on
    a mailing list for such things.

    @dots is actually `. . . .'
    "I've seed de first an de last @dots I seed de beginnin,
    en now I sees de endin."
    William Faulkner
    The Sound & The Fury
    April 8, 1928

    --------

    Getting to Other Networks

    Inter-connectivity has been and always will be one of the biggest
    goals in computer networking. The ultimate desire is to make it so
    one person can contact anyone else no matter where they are. A number
    of "gateways" between networks have been set up. They include:

    AppleLink
    Quantum Services sells access to AppleLink, which is similar to
    QuantumLink for Commodore computers and PCLink for IBM PCs and
    compatibles. It also provides email access through the address
    user@applelink.apple.com.

    ATTMail
    AT&T sells a commercial email service called ATTMail. Its users
    can be reached by writing to user@attmail.com.

    BIX
    Users on BIX (the Byte Information eXchange) can be reached
    through the DAS gateway at user@cibix.das.net.

    CompuServe (CI$)
    To reach a user on the commercial service CompuServe, you must
    address the mail as xxxxx.xxx@compuserve.com, with
    xxxxx.xxx being their CompuServe user ID. Normally CompuServe
    ids are represented as being separated by a comma (like
    71999,141); since most mailers don't react well to having
    commas in addresses, it was changed to a period. For the above
    address, mail would be sent to 71999.141@compuserve.com.

    EasyNet
    Digital sells a service called EasyNet; users that subscribe to it can
    be reached with the addresses user@host.enet.dec.com or
    user%host.enet@decwrl.dec.com.

    FidoNet
    The FidoNet computer network can be reached by using a special
    addressing method. If John Smith is on the node 1:2/3.4 on
    FidoNet, his or her email address would be
    john.smith@p4.f3.n2.z1.fidonet.org
    (notice how the numbers fall in place?).

    MCI Mail
    MCI also sells email accounts (similar to ATTMail). Users can be
    reached with user@mcimail.com.

    PeaceNet
    Users on the PeaceNet network can be reached by writing to
    user@igc.org.

    The Well
    Users on the service The Well can be reached by writing to
    user@well.sf.ca.us. The Well is directly connected to the Internet.

    This table is far from complete. In addition to sites not being
    listed, some services are not (nor do they plan to be) accessible
    from the "outside" (like Prodigy); others, like GEnie, are actively
    investigating the possibility of creating a gateway into their
    system. For the latest information, consult a list called the
    Inter-Network Mail Guide. It's available from a number of FTP sites,
    including UUNET; Anonymous FTP, for more information on getting a
    copy of it using anonymous FTP.

    Retrieving Files via Email

    For those who have a connection to the Internet, but cannot FTP, there
    do exist a few alternatives to get those files you so desperately
    need. When requesting files, it's imperative that you keep in mind
    the size of your request---odds are the other people who may be using
    your link won't be too receptive to sudden bursts of really heavy
    traffic on their normally sedate connection.

    Archive Servers

    An alternative to the currently well over-used FTPmail system is
    taking advantage of the many archive servers that are presently
    being maintained. These are programs that receive email messages that
    contain commands, and act on them. For example, sending an archive
    server the command help will usually yield, in the form of a
    piece of email, information on how to use the various commands that
    the server has available.

    One such archive server is service@nic.ddn.mil. Maintained by
    the Network Information Center (NIC) in Chantilly, VA, the server is
    set up to make all of the information at the NIC available for people
    who don't have access to FTP. This also includes the WHOIS service
    (Whois). Some sample Subject: lines for queries to the
    NIC server are:

    Subject: help Describes available commands.
    Subject: rfc 822 Sends a copy of RFC-822.
    Subject: rfc index Sends an index of the available RFCs.
    Subject: netinfo domain-template.txt Sends a domain application.
    Subject: whois widener Sends WHOIS information on `widener'.

    More information on using their archive server can be obtained by
    writing to their server address service@nic.ddn.mil with a
    Subject: of help.

    There are different "brands" of archive server, each with its own
    set of commands and services. Among them there often exists a common
    set of commands and services (e.g. index, help, etc).
    Be that as it may, one should always consult the individual help for a
    specific server before assuming the syntax---100K surprises can be
    hard on a system.

    FTP-by-Mail Servers
    Some systems offer people the ability to receive files through a
    mock-FTP interface via email. Anonymous FTP for a general overview of
    how to FTP. The effects of providing such a service varies, although
    a rule of thumb is that it will probably use a substantial amount of
    the available resources on a system.

    The "original" FTP-by-Mail service, BITFTP, is available to BITNET
    users from the Princeton node PUCC. It was once accessible to
    anyone, but had to be closed out to non-BITNET users because of the
    heavy load on the system.

    In response to this closure, Paul Vixie designed and installed a
    system called FTPmail on one of Digital's gateway computers,
    decwrl.dec.com. Write to ftpmail@decwrl.dec.com with help in the
    body of the letter for instructions on its use. The software is
    undergoing constant development; once it reaches a stable state,
    other sites will be encouraged to adopt it and provide the service
    also.

    Newsgroup Creation

    Everyone has the opportunity to make a Call For Votes on the
    Usenet and attempt to create a newsgroup that he/she feels would be of
    benefit to the general readership. The rules governing newsgroup
    creation have evolved over the years into a generally accepted method.
    They only govern the "world" groups; they aren't applicable to
    regional or other alternative hierarchies.

    Discussion

    A discussion must first take place to address issues like the naming
    of the group, where in the group tree it should go (e.g.
    rec.sports.koosh vs rec.games.koosh?), and whether or not it should
    be created in the first place. The formal Request For Discussion
    (RFD) should be posted to news.announce.newgroups, along with any
    other groups or mailing lists at all related to the proposed topic.
    news.announce.newgroups is moderated. You should place it first in
    the Newsgroups: header, so that it will get mailed to the moderator
    only. The article won't be immediately posted to the other
    newsgroups listed; rather, it will give you the opportunity to have
    the moderator correct any inconsistencies or mistakes in your RFD.
    He or she will take care of posting it to the newsgroups you
    indicated. Also the Followup-To: header will be set so that the
    actual discussion takes place only in news.groups. If a user has
    difficulty posting to a moderated group, he or she may mail
    submissions intended for news.announce.newgroups to the address
    announce-newgroups@rpi.edu.

    The final name and charter of the group, and whether it will be
    moderated or unmoderated, will be determined during the discussion
    period. If it's to be moderated, the discussion will also decide who
    the moderator will be. If there's no general agreement on these
    points among those in favor of a new group at the end of 30 days,
    the discussion will be taken into mail rather than continued posting
    to news.groups; that way, the proponents of the group can iron out
    their differences and come back with a proper proposal, and make
    a new Request For Discussion.

    Voting
    After the discussion period (which is mandatory), if it's been
    determined that a new group really is desired, a name and charter are
    agreed upon, and it's been determined whether the group will be
    moderated (and by whom), a Call For Votes (CFV) should be posted
    to news.announce.newgroups, along with any other groups that
    the original Request For Discussion was posted to. The CFV should be
    posted (or mailed to the news.announce.newgroups moderator) as
    soon as possible after the discussion ends (to keep it fresh in
    everyone's mind).

    The Call for Votes should include clear instructions on how to cast a
    vote. It's important that it be clearly explained how to both vote
    for and against a group (and be of equivalent difficulty or
    ease). If it's easier for you or your administrator, two separate
    addresses can be used to mail yes and no votes to, providing that
    they're on the same machine. Regardless of the method, everyone
    must have a very specific idea of how to get his/her vote counted.

    The voting period can last between 21 and 31 days, no matter what the
    preliminary results of the vote are. A vote can't be called off
    simply because 400 "no" votes have come in and only two "yes"
    votes. The Call for Votes should include the exact date that the
    voting period will end---only those votes arriving on the vote-taker's
    machine before this date can be counted.

    To keep awareness high, the CFV can be repeated during the vote,
    provided that it gives the same clear, unbiased instructions for
    casting a vote as the original; it also has to be the same proposal as
    was first posted. The charter can't change in mid-vote. Also, votes
    that're posted don't count---only those that were mailed to the
    vote-taker can be tallied.

    Partial results should never be included; only a statement of
    the specific proposal, that a vote is in progress on it, and how to
    cast a vote. A mass acknowledgement ("Mass ACK" or "Vote ACK") is
    permitted; however, it must be presented in a way that gives no
    indication of which way a person voted. One way to avoid this is to
    create one large list of everyone who's voted, and sort it in
    alphabetical order. It should not be two sorted lists (of the yes and
    no votes, respectively).

    Every vote is autonomous. The votes for or against one group can't be
    transferred to another, similar proposal. A vote can only count for
    the exact proposal that it was a response to. In particular, a vote
    for or against a newsgroup under one name can't be counted as a vote
    for or against another group with a different name or charter, a
    different moderated/unmoderated status, or, if it's moderated, a
    different moderator or set of moderators. Whew!

    Finally, the vote has to be explicit; they should be of the form I
    vote for the group foo.bar as proposed or I vote against the group
    foo.bar as proposed. The wording doesn't have to be exact, your
    intention just has to be clear.

    The Result of a Vote

    At the end of the voting period, the vote-taker has to post (to
    news.announce.newgroups) the tally and email addresses of the votes
    received. Again, it can also be posted to any of the groups listed in
    the original CFV. The tally should make clear which way a person
    voted, so the results can be verified if it proves necessary to do so.

    After the vote result is posted to news.announce.newgroups,
    there is a mandatory five-day waiting period. This affords everyone
    the opportunity to correct any errors or inconsistencies in the voter
    list or the voting procedure.

    Creation of the Group

    If, after the waiting period, there are no serious objections that
    might invalidate the vote, the vote is put to the "water test." If
    there were 100 more valid YES/create votes than NO/don't create
    votes, and at least two-thirds of the total number of votes are in
    favor of creation, then a newgroup control message can be sent out
    (often by the moderator of news.announce.newgroups). If the 100-vote
    margin or the two-thirds percentage isn't met, the group has failed
    and can't be created.

    If the proposal failed, all is not lost---after a six-month waiting
    period (a "cooling down"), a new Request For Discussion can be posted
    to news.groups, and the whole process can start over again. If after
    a couple of tries it becomes obvious that the group is not
    wanted or needed, the vote-taker should humbly step back and accept
    the opinion of the majority. (As life goes, so goes Usenet.)

    --------

    Glossary

    This glossary is only a tiny subset of all of the various terms and
    other things that people regularly use on The Net. For a more
    complete (and very entertaining) reference, it's suggested you get a
    copy of The New Hacker's Dictionary, which is based on a VERY large
    text file called the Jargon File. Edited by Eric Raymond
    (eric@snark.thyrsus.com), it is available from the MIT Press,
    Cambridge, Massachusetts, 02142; its ISBN number is 0-262-68069-6.
    Also see RFC-1208, A Glossary of Networking Terms.

    🙂
    This odd symbol is one of the ways a person can portray "mood" in
    the very flat medium of computers---by using "smilies." This is
    `metacommunication', and there are literally hundreds of them, from
    the obvious to the obscure. This particular example expresses
    "happiness." Don't see it? Tilt your head to the left 90 degrees.
    Smilies are also used to denote sarcasm.

    Network addresses are usually of two types:

    the physical or hardware address of a network interface card; for
    ethernet this 48-bit address might be 0260.8C00.7666. The hardware
    address is used to forward packets within a physical network.
    Fortunately, network users do not have to be concerned about hardware
    addresses since they are automatically handled by the networking
    software.

    The logical or Internet address is used to facilitate moving data
    between physical networks. The 32-bit Internet address is made up of a
    network number, a subnetwork number, and a host number. Each host
    computer on the Internet, has a unique address. For example, all
    Internet addresses at Colorado State have a network number of 129.82, a
    subnet number in the range of 1-254, and a host number in the range of
    1-254. All Internet hosts have a numeric address and an English-style
    name. For example, the Internet address for UCC's CYBER 840 is
    129.82.103.96; its Internet name is csugreen.UCC.ColoState.EDU.

    address resolution
    Conversion of an Internet address to the corresponding physical address.
    On an ethernet, resolution requires broadcasting on the local area network.

    administrivia
    Administrative tasks, most often related to the maintenance of mailing
    lists, digests, news gateways, etc.

    anonymous FTP
    Also known as "anon FTP"; a service provided to make files available
    to the general Internet community---Anonymous FTP.

    ANSI
    The American National Standards Institute disseminates basic standards
    like ASCII, and acts as the United States' delegate to the ISO.
    Standards can be ordered from ANSI by writing to the ANSI Sales Department,
    1430 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, or by telephoning (212) 354-3300.

    archie
    A service which provides lookups for packages in a database of the
    offerings of countless of anonymous FTP sites. archie for a
    full description.

    archive server
    An email-based file transfer facility offered by some systems.

    ARPA (Advanced Research Projects Agency)
    Former name of DARPA, the government agency that funded ARPAnet and
    later the DARPA Internet.

    ARPAnet
    A pioneering long haul network funded by ARPA. It
    served as the basis for early networking research as well as a
    central backbone during the development of the Internet. The
    ARPAnet consisted of individual packet switching computers
    interconnected by leased lines. The ARPAnet no longer exists as a
    singular entity.

    asynchronous
    Transmission by individual bytes, not related to specific timing on the
    transmitting end.

    auto-magic
    Something which happens pseudo-automatically, and is usually too
    complex to go into any further than to say it happens "auto-magically."

    backbone
    A high-speed connection within a network that connects shorter,
    usually slower circuits. Also used in reference to a system that acts
    as a "hub" for activity (although those are becoming much less
    prevalent now than they were ten years ago).

    bandwidth
    The capacity of a medium to transmit a signal. More informally, the
    mythical "size" of The Net, and its ability to carry the files and
    messages of those that use it. Some view certain kinds of traffic
    (FTPing hundreds of graphics images, for example) as a "waste of
    bandwidth" and look down upon them.

    BITNET (Because It's Time Network)
    An NJE-based international educational network.

    bounce
    The return of a piece of mail because of an error in its delivery.

    btw
    An abbreviation for "by the way."

    CFV (Call For Votes)
    Initiates the voting period for a Usenet newsgroup. At least one
    (occasionally two or more) email address is customarily included as a
    repository for the votes. See Newsgroup Creation
    for a full description of the Usenet voting process.

    ClariNews
    The fee-based Usenet newsfeed available from ClariNet Communications.

    client
    The user of a network service; also used to describe a computer that
    relies upon another for some or all of its resources.

    Cyberspace
    A term coined by William Gibson in his fantasy novel
    Neuromancer to describe the "world" of computers, and the
    society that gathers around them.

    datagram
    The basic unit of information passed across the Internet. It contains
    a source and destination address along with data. Large messages are
    broken down into a sequence of IP datagrams.

    disassembling
    Converting a binary program into human-readable machine language code.

    DNS (Domain Name System)
    The method used to convert Internet names to their corresponding
    Internet numbers.

    domain
    A part of the naming hierarchy. Syntactically, a domain name consists
    of a sequence of names or other words separated by dots.

    dotted quad
    A set of four numbers connected with periods that make up an Internet
    address; for example, 147.31.254.130.

    email
    The vernacular abbreviation for electronic mail.

    email address
    The UUCP or domain-based address that a user is referred to with. For
    example, the author's address is brendan@cs.widener.edu.

    ethernet
    A 10-million bit per second networking scheme originally developed by
    Xerox Corporation. Ethernet is widely used for LANs because it can
    network a wide variety of computers, it is not proprietary, and
    components are widely available from many commercial sources.

    FDDI (Fiber Distributed Data Interface)
    An emerging standard for network technology based on fiber optics that
    has been established by ANSI. FDDI specifies a 100-million bit per
    second data rate. The access control mechanism uses token ring
    technology.

    flame
    A piece of mail or a Usenet posting which is violently argumentative.

    FQDN (Fully Qualified Domain Name)
    The FQDN is the full site name of a system, rather than just its
    hostname. For example, the system lisa at Widener University
    has a FQDN of lisa.cs.widener.edu.

    FTP (File Transfer Protocol)
    The Internet standard high-level protocol for transferring files from
    one computer to another.

    FYI
    An abbreviation for the phrase "for your information." There is
    also a series of RFCs put out by the Network Information Center called
    FYIs; they address common questions of new users and many other useful
    things. RFCs for instructions on retrieving FYIs.

    gateway
    A special-purpose dedicated computer that attaches to two or more
    networks and routes packets from one network to the other. In
    particular, an Internet gateway routes IP datagrams among the networks
    it connects. Gateways route packets to other gateways until they can be
    delivered to the final destination directly across one physical network.

    header
    The portion of a packet, preceding the actual data, containing source
    and destination addresses and error-checking fields. Also part of a
    message or news article.

    hostname
    The name given to a machine. (See also FQDN.)

    IMHO (In My Humble Opinion)
    This usually accompanies a statement that may bring about personal
    offense or strong disagreement.

    Internet
    A concatenation of many individual TCP/IP campus, state, regional, and
    national networks (such as NSFnet, ARPAnet, and Milnet) into one
    single logical network all sharing a common addressing scheme.

    Internet number
    The dotted-quad address used to specify a certain system. The
    Internet number for the site cs.widener.edu is 147.31.254.130. A
    resolver is used to translate between hostnames and Internet
    addresses.

    interoperate
    The ability of multi-vendor computers to work together using a common
    set of protocols. With interoperability, PCs, Macs, Suns, Dec VAXen,
    CDC Cybers, etc, all work together allowing one host computer to
    communicate with and take advantage of the resources of another.

    ISO (International Organization for Standardization)
    Coordinator of the main networking standards that are put into use today.

    kernel
    The level of an operating system or networking system that contains the
    system-level commands or all of the functions hidden from the user. In
    a Unix system, the kernel is a program that contains the device drivers,
    the memory management routines, the scheduler, and system calls. This
    program is always running while the system is operating.

    LAN (Local Area Network)
    Any physical network technology that operates at high speed over short
    distances (up to a few thousand meters).

    mail gateway
    A machine that connects to two or more electronic mail systems
    (especially dissimilar mail systems on two different networks) and
    transfers mail messages among them.

    mailing list
    A possibly moderated discussion group, distributed via email from a
    central computer maintaining the list of people involved in the
    discussion.

    mail path
    A series of machine names used to direct electronic mail from one user
    to another.

    medium
    The material used to support the transmission of data. This can be
    copper wire, coaxial cable, optical fiber, or electromagnetic wave (as in
    microwave).

    multiplex
    The division of a single transmission medium into multiple logical
    channels supporting many simultaneous sessions. For example, one
    network may have simultaneous FTP, telnet, rlogin, and SMTP
    connections, all going at the same time.

    net.citizen
    An inhabitant of Cyberspace. One usually tries to be a good
    net.citizen, lest one be flamed.

    netiquette
    A pun on "etiquette"; proper behavior on The Net. Usenet Netiquette.

    network
    A group of machines connected together so they can transmit information
    to one another. There are two kinds of networks: local networks and
    remote networks.

    NFS (Network File System)
    A method developed by Sun Microsystems to allow computers to share
    files across a network in a way that makes them appear as if they're
    "local" to the system.

    NIC
    The Network Information Center.

    node
    A computer that is attached to a network; also called a host.

    NSFnet
    The national backbone network, funded by the National Science Foundation
    and operated by the Merit Corporation, used to interconnect regional
    (mid-level) networks such as WestNet to one another.

    packet
    The unit of data sent across a packet switching network. The term is
    used loosely. While some Internet literature uses it to refer
    specifically to data sent across a physical network, other literature
    views the Internet as a packet switching network and describes IP
    datagrams as packets.

    polling
    Connecting to another system to check for things like mail or news.

    postmaster
    The person responsible for taking care of mail problems, answering
    queries about users, and other related work at a site.

    protocols
    A formal description of message formats and the rules two computers must
    follow to exchange those messages. Protocols can describe low-level
    details of machine-to-machine interfaces (e.g., the order in which bits
    and bytes are sent across a wire) or high-level exchanges between
    allocation programs (e.g., the way in which two programs transfer a file
    across the Internet).

    recursion
    The facility of a programming language to be able to call functions
    from within themselves.

    resolve
    Translate an Internet name into its equivalent IP address or other DNS
    information.

    RFD (Request For Discussion)
    Usually a two- to three-week period in which the particulars of
    newsgroup creation are battled out.

    route
    The path that network traffic takes from its source to its destination.

    router
    A dedicated computer (or other device) that sends packets from one
    place to another, paying attention to the current state of the network.

    RTFM (Read The Fantastic Manual).
    This anacronym is often used when someone asks a simple or common
    question. The word `Fantastic' is usually replaced with one much more
    vulgar.

    SMTP (Simple Mail Transfer Protocol)
    The Internet standard protocol for transferring electronic mail messages
    from one computer to another. SMTP specifies how two mail systems
    interact and the format of control messages they exchange to transfer
    mail.

    server
    A computer that shares its resources, such as printers and files, with
    other computers on the network. An example of this is a Network File
    System (NFS) server which shares its disk space with other computers.

    signal-to-noise ratio
    When used in reference to Usenet activity, signal-to-noise
    ratio describes the relation between amount of actual information in
    a discussion, compared to their quantity. More often than not,
    there's substantial activity in a newsgroup, but a very small number
    of those articles actually contain anything useful.

    signature
    The small, usually four-line message at the bottom of a piece of email
    or a Usenet article. In Unix, it's added by creating a file
    ..signature in the user's home directory. Large signatures are
    a no-no.

    summarize
    To encapsulate a number of responses into one coherent, usable
    message. Often done on controlled mailing lists or active newsgroups,
    to help reduce bandwidth.

    synchronous
    Data communications in which transmissions are sent at a fixed rate,
    with the sending and receiving devices synchronized.

    TCP/IP (Transmission Control Protocol/Internet Protocol)
    A set of protocols, resulting from ARPA efforts, used by the Internet to
    support services such as remote login (telnet), file transfer
    (FTP) and mail (SMTP).

    telnet
    The Internet standard protocol for remote terminal connection service.
    Telnet allows a user at one site to interact with a remote timesharing
    system at another site as if the user's terminal were connected directly
    to the remote computer.

    terminal server
    A small, specialized, networked computer that connects many terminals to
    a LAN through one network connection. Any user on the network can then
    connect to various network hosts.

    TeX
    A free typesetting system by Donald Knuth.

    twisted pair
    Cable made up of a pair of insulated copper wires wrapped around each
    other to cancel the effects of electrical noise.

    UUCP (Unix to Unix Copy Program)
    A store-and-forward system, primarily for Unix systems but currently
    supported on other platforms (e.g. VMS and personal computers).

    WAN (Wide-Area Network)
    A network spanning hundreds or thousands of miles.

    workstation
    A networked personal computing device with more power than a standard
    IBM PC or Macintosh. Typically, a workstation has an operating system
    such as unix that is capable of running several tasks at the same time.
    It has several megabytes of memory and a large, high-resolution display.
    Examples are Sun workstations and Digital DECstations.

    worm
    A computer program which replicates itself. The Internet worm
    (The Internet Worm) was perhaps the most famous; it
    successfully (and accidentally) duplicated itself on systems across
    the Internet.

    wrt
    With respect to.

    "I hate definitions."
    Benjamin Disraeli
    Vivian Grey, bk i chap ii

    ------
    Bibliography

    What follows is a compendium of sources that have information that
    will be of use to anyone reading this guide. Most of them were used
    in the writing of the booklet, while others are simply noted because
    they are a must for any good net.citizen's bookshelf.

    Books

    Comer, Douglas E.
    Internetworking With TCP/IP, 2nd ed., 2v
    Prentice Hall
    Englewood Cliffs, NJ
    1991

    Davidson, John
    An Introduction to TCP/IP
    Springer-Verlag
    Berlin
    1988

    Frey, Donnalyn, and Adams, Rick
    !@%:: A Directory of Electronic Mail Addressing and Networks
    O'Reilly and Associates
    Newton, MA
    1989

    Gibson, William
    Neuromancer
    Ace
    New York, NY
    1984

    LaQuey, Tracy
    Users' Directory of Computer Networks
    Digital Press
    Bedford, MA
    1990

    Levy, Stephen
    Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution
    Anchor Press/Doubleday
    Garden City, NY
    1984

    Partridge, Craig
    Innovations in Internetworking
    ARTECH House
    Norwood, MA
    1988

    Quarterman, John S.
    The Matrix: Computer Networks and Conferencing Systems Worldwide
    Digital Press
    Bedford, MA
    1989

    Raymond, Eric (ed)
    The New Hacker's Dictionary
    MIT Press
    Cambridge, MA
    1991

    Stoll, Clifford
    The Cuckoo's Egg
    Doubleday
    New York
    1989

    Tanenbaum, Andrew S.
    Computer Networks, 2d ed
    Prentice-Hall
    Englewood Cliffs, NJ
    1988

    Todinao, Grace
    Using UUCP and USENET: A Nutshell Handbook
    O'Reilly and Associates
    Newton, MA
    1986

    The Waite Group
    Unix Communications, 2nd ed.
    Howard W. Sams & Company
    Indianapolis
    1991

    Periodicals & Papers
    magazine: Barlow, J
    Coming Into The Country
    Communications of the ACM 34:3
    2
    March 1991
    Addresses "Cyberspace"---John Barlow was a co-founder of the EFF.

    proceedings: Collyer, G., and Spencer, H
    News Need Not Be Slow
    Proceedings of the 1987 Winter USENIX Conference
    181--90
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    January 1987

    magazine: Denning, P
    The Internet Worm
    American Scientist
    126--128
    March--April 1989

    magazine: The Science of Computing: Computer Networks
    American Scientist
    127--129
    March--April 1985

    magazine: Frey, D., and Adams, R
    USENET: Death by Success?
    UNIX REVIEW
    55--60
    August 1987

    magazine: Gifford, W. S
    ISDN User-Network Interfaces
    IEEE Journal on Selected Areas in Communications
    343--348
    May 1986

    magazine: Ginsberg, K
    Getting from Here to There
    UNIX REVIEW
    45
    January 1986

    magazine: Hiltz, S. R
    The Human Element in Computerized Conferencing Systems
    Computer Networks
    421--428
    December 1978

    proceedings: Horton, M
    What is a Domain?
    Proceedings of the Summer 1984 USENIX Conference
    368--372
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    June 1984

    magazine: Jacobsen, Ole J
    Information on TCP/IP
    ConneXions---The Interoperability Report
    14--15
    July 1988

    magazine: Jennings, D., et al
    Computer Networking for Scientists
    Science
    943--950
    28 February 1986

    paper: Markoff, J
    "Author of computer `virus' is son of U.S. electronic security expert."
    New York Times
    Nov. 5, 1988
    A1

    paper: "Computer snarl: A `back door' ajar."
    New York Times
    Nov. 7, 1988
    B10

    magazine: McQuillan, J. M., and Walden, D. C
    The ARPA Network Design Decisions
    Computer Networks
    243--289
    1977

    magazine: Ornstein, S. M
    A letter concerning the Internet worm
    Communications of the ACM 32:6
    June 1989

    proceedings: Partridge, C
    Mail Routing Using Domain Names: An Informal Tour
    Proceedings of the 1986 Summer USENIX Conference
    366--76
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    June 1986

    magazine: Quarterman, J
    Etiquette and Ethics
    ConneXions---The Interoperability Report
    12--16
    March 1989

    magazine: Notable Computer Networks
    Communications of the ACM 29:10
    October 1986
    This was the predecessor to The Matrix.

    magazine: Raeder, A. W., and Andrews, K. L
    Searching Library Catalogs on the Internet: A Survey
    Database Searcher 6
    16--31
    September 1990

    proceedings: Seeley, D
    A tour of the worm
    Proceedings of the 1989 Winter USENIX Conference
    287--304
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    February 1989

    magazine: Shulman, G
    Legal Research on USENET Liability Issues
    ;login: The USENIX Association Newsletter
    11--17
    December 1984

    magazine: Smith, K
    E-Mail to Anywhere
    PC World
    220--223
    March 1988

    magazine: Stoll, C
    Stalking the Wily Hacker
    Communications of the ACM 31:5
    14
    May 1988
    This article grew into the book The Cuckoo's Egg.

    proceedings: Taylor, D
    The Postman Always Rings Twice: Electronic Mail in a Highly Distributed
    Environment
    Proceedings of the 1988 Winter USENIX Conference
    145--153
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    December 1988

    magazine: U.S.Gen'l Accounting Ofc
    Computer Security: Virus Highlights Need for Improved Internet Management
    GAO/IMTEC-89-57,
    1989
    Addresses the Internet worm.

    "And all else is literature."
    Paul Verlaine
    The Sun, New York
    While he was city editor in 1873--1890.

    --
    Bill Walther, Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada

    ]]>
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    Through the Looking-Glass https://blog.mabo.cc/through-the-looking-glass/ https://blog.mabo.cc/through-the-looking-glass/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:59 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/through-the-looking-glass/

    Through the Looking-Glass

    Aproximadamente 31.095 palavras.

    [Illustration]

    THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS

    And What Alice Found There

    By Lewis Carroll

    The Millennium Fulcrum Edition 1.7

    DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
    (_As arranged before commencement of game._)

    WHITE RED.
    PIECES. PAWNS. PAWNS. PIECES.
    Tweedledee. Daisy. Daisy. Humpty Dumpty.
    Unicorn. Haigha. Messenger. Carpenter.
    Sheep. Oyster. Oyster. Walrus.
    W. Queen. “Lily.” Tiger-lily. R. Queen.
    W. King. Fawn. Rose. R. King.
    Aged man. Oyster. Oyster. Crow.
    W. Knight. Hatta. Frog. R. Knight.
    Tweedledum. Daisy. Daisy. Lion.

    _RED._

    [Illustration: chessboard]

    _WHITE._

    White Pawn (Alice) to play, and win in eleven moves.

    1. Alice meets R. Q.
    1. R. Q. to K. R.’s 4th
    2. Alice through Q.’s 3d (_by railway_) to 4th (_Tweedledum and Tweedledee_)
    2. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 4th (_after shawl_)
    3. Alice meets W. Q. (_with shawl_)
    3. W. Q. to Q.B.’s 5th (_becomes sheep_)
    4. Alice to Q.’s 5th (_shop, river, shop_)
    4. W. Q. to K. B.’s 8th (_leaves egg on shelf_)
    5. Alice to Q.’s 6th (_Humpty Dumpty_)
    5. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 8th (_flying from R. Kt._)
    6. Alice to Q.’s 7th (_forest_)
    6. R. Kt. to K.’s 2nd (ch.)
    7. W.Kt. takes R.Kt.
    7. W. Kt. to K. B’s 5th
    8. Alice to Q.’s 8th (_coronation_)
    8. R. Q. to K.’s sq. (_examination_)
    9. Alice becomes Queen
    9. Queens castle
    10. Alice castles (_feast_)
    10. W.Q. to Q.R.’s 6th (_soup_)
    11. Alice takes R.Q. & wins

    Child of the pure unclouded brow
    And dreaming eyes of wonder!
    Though time be fleet, and I and thou
    Are half a life asunder,
    Thy loving smile will surely hail
    The love-gift of a fairy-tale.

    I have not seen thy sunny face,
    Nor heard thy silver laughter;
    No thought of me shall find a place
    In thy young life’s hereafter—
    Enough that now thou wilt not fail
    To listen to my fairy-tale.

    A tale begun in other days,
    When summer suns were glowing—
    A simple chime, that served to time
    The rhythm of our rowing—
    Whose echoes live in memory yet,
    Though envious years would say ‘forget.’

    Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread,
    With bitter tidings laden,
    Shall summon to unwelcome bed
    A melancholy maiden!
    We are but older children, dear,
    Who fret to find our bedtime near.

    Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
    The storm-wind’s moody madness—
    Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,
    And childhood’s nest of gladness.
    The magic words shall hold thee fast:
    Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.

    And though the shadow of a sigh
    May tremble through the story,
    For ‘happy summer days’ gone by,
    And vanish’d summer glory—
    It shall not touch with breath of bale
    The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

    Contents

    CHAPTER I. Looking-Glass house
    CHAPTER II. The Garden of Live Flowers
    CHAPTER III. Looking-Glass Insects
    CHAPTER IV. Tweedledum And Tweedledee
    CHAPTER V. Wool and Water
    CHAPTER VI. Humpty Dumpty
    CHAPTER VII. The Lion and the Unicorn
    CHAPTER VIII. “It’s my own Invention”
    CHAPTER IX. Queen Alice
    CHAPTER X. Shaking
    CHAPTER XI. Waking
    CHAPTER XII. Which Dreamed it?

    CHAPTER I.
    Looking-Glass house

    One thing was certain, that the _white_ kitten had had nothing to do
    with it:—it was the black kitten’s fault entirely. For the white kitten
    had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of
    an hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it
    _couldn’t_ have had any hand in the mischief.

    The way Dinah washed her children’s faces was this: first she held the
    poor thing down by its ear with one paw, and then with the other paw
    she rubbed its face all over, the wrong way, beginning at the nose: and
    just now, as I said, she was hard at work on the white kitten, which
    was lying quite still and trying to purr—no doubt feeling that it was
    all meant for its good.

    But the black kitten had been finished with earlier in the afternoon,
    and so, while Alice was sitting curled up in a corner of the great
    arm-chair, half talking to herself and half asleep, the kitten had been
    having a grand game of romps with the ball of worsted Alice had been
    trying to wind up, and had been rolling it up and down till it had all
    come undone again; and there it was, spread over the hearth-rug, all
    knots and tangles, with the kitten running after its own tail in the
    middle.

    “Oh, you wicked little thing!” cried Alice, catching up the kitten, and
    giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace.
    “Really, Dinah ought to have taught you better manners! You _ought_,
    Dinah, you know you ought!” she added, looking reproachfully at the old
    cat, and speaking in as cross a voice as she could manage—and then she
    scrambled back into the arm-chair, taking the kitten and the worsted
    with her, and began winding up the ball again. But she didn’t get on
    very fast, as she was talking all the time, sometimes to the kitten,
    and sometimes to herself. Kitty sat very demurely on her knee,
    pretending to watch the progress of the winding, and now and then
    putting out one paw and gently touching the ball, as if it would be
    glad to help, if it might.

    “Do you know what to-morrow is, Kitty?” Alice began. “You’d have
    guessed if you’d been up in the window with me—only Dinah was making
    you tidy, so you couldn’t. I was watching the boys getting in sticks
    for the bonfire—and it wants plenty of sticks, Kitty! Only it got so
    cold, and it snowed so, they had to leave off. Never mind, Kitty, we’ll
    go and see the bonfire to-morrow.” Here Alice wound two or three turns
    of the worsted round the kitten’s neck, just to see how it would look:
    this led to a scramble, in which the ball rolled down upon the floor,
    and yards and yards of it got unwound again.

    “Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,” Alice went on as soon as they
    were comfortably settled again, “when I saw all the mischief you had
    been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out
    into the snow! And you’d have deserved it, you little mischievous
    darling! What have you got to say for yourself? Now don’t interrupt
    me!” she went on, holding up one finger. “I’m going to tell you all
    your faults. Number one: you squeaked twice while Dinah was washing
    your face this morning. Now you can’t deny it, Kitty: I heard you!
    What’s that you say?” (pretending that the kitten was speaking.) “Her
    paw went into your eye? Well, that’s _your_ fault, for keeping your
    eyes open—if you’d shut them tight up, it wouldn’t have happened. Now
    don’t make any more excuses, but listen! Number two: you pulled
    Snowdrop away by the tail just as I had put down the saucer of milk
    before her! What, you were thirsty, were you? How do you know she
    wasn’t thirsty too? Now for number three: you unwound every bit of the
    worsted while I wasn’t looking!

    “That’s three faults, Kitty, and you’ve not been punished for any of
    them yet. You know I’m saving up all your punishments for Wednesday
    week—Suppose they had saved up all _my_ punishments!” she went on,
    talking more to herself than the kitten. “What _would_ they do at the
    end of a year? I should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day
    came. Or—let me see—suppose each punishment was to be going without a
    dinner: then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without
    fifty dinners at once! Well, I shouldn’t mind _that_ much! I’d far
    rather go without them than eat them!

    “Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and
    soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over
    outside. I wonder if the snow _loves_ the trees and fields, that it
    kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with
    a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the
    summer comes again.’ And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they
    dress themselves all in green, and dance about—whenever the wind
    blows—oh, that’s very pretty!” cried Alice, dropping the ball of
    worsted to clap her hands. “And I do so _wish_ it was true! I’m sure
    the woods look sleepy in the autumn, when the leaves are getting brown.

    “Kitty, can you play chess? Now, don’t smile, my dear, I’m asking it
    seriously. Because, when we were playing just now, you watched just as
    if you understood it: and when I said ‘Check!’ you purred! Well, it
    _was_ a nice check, Kitty, and really I might have won, if it hadn’t
    been for that nasty Knight, that came wiggling down among my pieces.
    Kitty, dear, let’s pretend—” And here I wish I could tell you half the
    things Alice used to say, beginning with her favourite phrase “Let’s
    pretend.” She had had quite a long argument with her sister only the
    day before—all because Alice had begun with “Let’s pretend we’re kings
    and queens;” and her sister, who liked being very exact, had argued
    that they couldn’t, because there were only two of them, and Alice had
    been reduced at last to say, “Well, _you_ can be one of them then, and
    _I’ll_ be all the rest.” And once she had really frightened her old
    nurse by shouting suddenly in her ear, “Nurse! Do let’s pretend that
    I’m a hungry hyaena, and you’re a bone.”

    But this is taking us away from Alice’s speech to the kitten. “Let’s
    pretend that you’re the Red Queen, Kitty! Do you know, I think if you
    sat up and folded your arms, you’d look exactly like her. Now do try,
    there’s a dear!” And Alice got the Red Queen off the table, and set it
    up before the kitten as a model for it to imitate: however, the thing
    didn’t succeed, principally, Alice said, because the kitten wouldn’t
    fold its arms properly. So, to punish it, she held it up to the
    Looking-glass, that it might see how sulky it was—“and if you’re not
    good directly,” she added, “I’ll put you through into Looking-glass
    House. How would you like _that_?”

    “Now, if you’ll only attend, Kitty, and not talk so much, I’ll tell you
    all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there’s the room you can
    see through the glass—that’s just the same as our drawing room, only
    the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a
    chair—all but the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I do so wish I could
    see _that_ bit! I want so much to know whether they’ve a fire in the
    winter: you never _can_ tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and
    then smoke comes up in that room too—but that may be only pretence,
    just to make it look as if they had a fire. Well then, the books are
    something like our books, only the words go the wrong way; I know that,
    because I’ve held up one of our books to the glass, and then they hold
    up one in the other room.

    “How would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I wonder if
    they’d give you milk in there? Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn’t good to
    drink—But oh, Kitty! now we come to the passage. You can just see a
    little _peep_ of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave the
    door of our drawing-room wide open: and it’s very like our passage as
    far as you can see, only you know it may be quite different on beyond.
    Oh, Kitty! how nice it would be if we could only get through into
    Looking-glass House! I’m sure it’s got, oh! such beautiful things in
    it! Let’s pretend there’s a way of getting through into it, somehow,
    Kitty. Let’s pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we
    can get through. Why, it’s turning into a sort of mist now, I declare!
    It’ll be easy enough to get through—” She was up on the chimney-piece
    while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And
    certainly the glass _was_ beginning to melt away, just like a bright
    silvery mist.

    In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly
    down into the Looking-glass room. The very first thing she did was to
    look whether there was a fire in the fireplace, and she was quite
    pleased to find that there was a real one, blazing away as brightly as
    the one she had left behind. “So I shall be as warm here as I was in
    the old room,” thought Alice: “warmer, in fact, because there’ll be no
    one here to scold me away from the fire. Oh, what fun it’ll be, when
    they see me through the glass in here, and can’t get at me!”

    Then she began looking about, and noticed that what could be seen from
    the old room was quite common and uninteresting, but that all the rest
    was as different as possible. For instance, the pictures on the wall
    next the fire seemed to be all alive, and the very clock on the
    chimney-piece (you know you can only see the back of it in the
    Looking-glass) had got the face of a little old man, and grinned at
    her.

    “They don’t keep this room so tidy as the other,” Alice thought to
    herself, as she noticed several of the chessmen down in the hearth
    among the cinders: but in another moment, with a little “Oh!” of
    surprise, she was down on her hands and knees watching them. The
    chessmen were walking about, two and two!

    “Here are the Red King and the Red Queen,” Alice said (in a whisper,
    for fear of frightening them), “and there are the White King and the
    White Queen sitting on the edge of the shovel—and here are two castles
    walking arm in arm—I don’t think they can hear me,” she went on, as she
    put her head closer down, “and I’m nearly sure they can’t see me. I
    feel somehow as if I were invisible—”

    Here something began squeaking on the table behind Alice, and made her
    turn her head just in time to see one of the White Pawns roll over and
    begin kicking: she watched it with great curiosity to see what would
    happen next.

    “It is the voice of my child!” the White Queen cried out as she rushed
    past the King, so violently that she knocked him over among the
    cinders. “My precious Lily! My imperial kitten!” and she began
    scrambling wildly up the side of the fender.

    “Imperial fiddlestick!” said the King, rubbing his nose, which had been
    hurt by the fall. He had a right to be a _little_ annoyed with the
    Queen, for he was covered with ashes from head to foot.

    Alice was very anxious to be of use, and, as the poor little Lily was
    nearly screaming herself into a fit, she hastily picked up the Queen
    and set her on the table by the side of her noisy little daughter.

    The Queen gasped, and sat down: the rapid journey through the air had
    quite taken away her breath and for a minute or two she could do
    nothing but hug the little Lily in silence. As soon as she had
    recovered her breath a little, she called out to the White King, who
    was sitting sulkily among the ashes, “Mind the volcano!”

    “What volcano?” said the King, looking up anxiously into the fire, as
    if he thought that was the most likely place to find one.

    “Blew—me—up,” panted the Queen, who was still a little out of breath.
    “Mind you come up—the regular way—don’t get blown up!”

    Alice watched the White King as he slowly struggled up from bar to bar,
    till at last she said, “Why, you’ll be hours and hours getting to the
    table, at that rate. I’d far better help you, hadn’t I?” But the King
    took no notice of the question: it was quite clear that he could
    neither hear her nor see her.

    So Alice picked him up very gently, and lifted him across more slowly
    than she had lifted the Queen, that she mightn’t take his breath away:
    but, before she put him on the table, she thought she might as well
    dust him a little, he was so covered with ashes.

    She said afterwards that she had never seen in all her life such a face
    as the King made, when he found himself held in the air by an invisible
    hand, and being dusted: he was far too much astonished to cry out, but
    his eyes and his mouth went on getting larger and larger, and rounder
    and rounder, till her hand shook so with laughing that she nearly let
    him drop upon the floor.

    “Oh! _please_ don’t make such faces, my dear!” she cried out, quite
    forgetting that the King couldn’t hear her. “You make me laugh so that
    I can hardly hold you! And don’t keep your mouth so wide open! All the
    ashes will get into it—there, now I think you’re tidy enough!” she
    added, as she smoothed his hair, and set him upon the table near the
    Queen.

    The King immediately fell flat on his back, and lay perfectly still:
    and Alice was a little alarmed at what she had done, and went round the
    room to see if she could find any water to throw over him. However, she
    could find nothing but a bottle of ink, and when she got back with it
    she found he had recovered, and he and the Queen were talking together
    in a frightened whisper—so low, that Alice could hardly hear what they
    said.

    The King was saying, “I assure you, my dear, I turned cold to the very
    ends of my whiskers!”

    To which the Queen replied, “You haven’t got any whiskers.”

    “The horror of that moment,” the King went on, “I shall never, _never_
    forget!”

    “You will, though,” the Queen said, “if you don’t make a memorandum of
    it.”

    Alice looked on with great interest as the King took an enormous
    memorandum-book out of his pocket, and began writing. A sudden thought
    struck her, and she took hold of the end of the pencil, which came some
    way over his shoulder, and began writing for him.

    The poor King looked puzzled and unhappy, and struggled with the pencil
    for some time without saying anything; but Alice was too strong for
    him, and at last he panted out, “My dear! I really _must_ get a thinner
    pencil. I can’t manage this one a bit; it writes all manner of things
    that I don’t intend—”

    “What manner of things?” said the Queen, looking over the book (in
    which Alice had put “_The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He
    balances very badly_”) “That’s not a memorandum of _your_ feelings!”

    There was a book lying near Alice on the table, and while she sat
    watching the White King (for she was still a little anxious about him,
    and had the ink all ready to throw over him, in case he fainted again),
    she turned over the leaves, to find some part that she could read,
    “—for it’s all in some language I don’t know,” she said to herself.

    It was like this.

    .YKCOWREBBAJ

    sevot yhtils eht dna, gillirb sawT’
    ebaw eht ni elbmig dna eryg diD
    ,sevogorob eht erew ysmim llA
    .ebargtuo shtar emom eht dnA

    She puzzled over this for some time, but at last a bright thought
    struck her. “Why, it’s a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold
    it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again.”

    This was the poem that Alice read.

    JABBERWOCKY.

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
    The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
    Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
    The frumious Bandersnatch!”

    He took his vorpal sword in hand:
    Long time the manxome foe he sought—
    So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
    And stood awhile in thought.

    And as in uffish thought he stood,
    The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
    Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
    And burbled as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
    He left it dead, and with its head
    He went galumphing back.

    “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
    Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
    He chortled in his joy.

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “It seems very pretty,” she said when she had finished it, “but it’s
    _rather_ hard to understand!” (You see she didn’t like to confess, even
    to herself, that she couldn’t make it out at all.) “Somehow it seems to
    fill my head with ideas—only I don’t exactly know what they are!
    However, _somebody_ killed _something_: that’s clear, at any rate—”

    “But oh!” thought Alice, suddenly jumping up, “if I don’t make haste I
    shall have to go back through the Looking-glass, before I’ve seen what
    the rest of the house is like! Let’s have a look at the garden first!”
    She was out of the room in a moment, and ran down stairs—or, at least,
    it wasn’t exactly running, but a new invention of hers for getting down
    stairs quickly and easily, as Alice said to herself. She just kept the
    tips of her fingers on the hand-rail, and floated gently down without
    even touching the stairs with her feet; then she floated on through the
    hall, and would have gone straight out at the door in the same way, if
    she hadn’t caught hold of the door-post. She was getting a little giddy
    with so much floating in the air, and was rather glad to find herself
    walking again in the natural way.

    CHAPTER II.
    The Garden of Live Flowers

    “I should see the garden far better,” said Alice to herself, “if I
    could get to the top of that hill: and here’s a path that leads
    straight to it—at least, no, it doesn’t do that—” (after going a few
    yards along the path, and turning several sharp corners), “but I
    suppose it will at last. But how curiously it twists! It’s more like a
    corkscrew than a path! Well, _this_ turn goes to the hill, I
    suppose—no, it doesn’t! This goes straight back to the house! Well
    then, I’ll try it the other way.”

    And so she did: wandering up and down, and trying turn after turn, but
    always coming back to the house, do what she would. Indeed, once, when
    she turned a corner rather more quickly than usual, she ran against it
    before she could stop herself.

    “It’s no use talking about it,” Alice said, looking up at the house and
    pretending it was arguing with her. “I’m _not_ going in again yet. I
    know I should have to get through the Looking-glass again—back into the
    old room—and there’d be an end of all my adventures!”

    So, resolutely turning her back upon the house, she set out once more
    down the path, determined to keep straight on till she got to the hill.
    For a few minutes all went on well, and she was just saying, “I really
    _shall_ do it this time—” when the path gave a sudden twist and shook
    itself (as she described it afterwards), and the next moment she found
    herself actually walking in at the door.

    “Oh, it’s too bad!” she cried. “I never saw such a house for getting in
    the way! Never!”

    However, there was the hill full in sight, so there was nothing to be
    done but start again. This time she came upon a large flower-bed, with
    a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle.

    “O Tiger-lily,” said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving
    gracefully about in the wind, “I _wish_ you could talk!”

    “We _can_ talk,” said the Tiger-lily: “when there’s anybody worth
    talking to.”

    Alice was so astonished that she could not speak for a minute: it quite
    seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily only went
    on waving about, she spoke again, in a timid voice—almost in a whisper.
    “And can _all_ the flowers talk?”

    “As well as _you_ can,” said the Tiger-lily. “And a great deal louder.”

    “It isn’t manners for us to begin, you know,” said the Rose, “and I
    really was wondering when you’d speak! Said I to myself, ‘Her face has
    got _some_ sense in it, though it’s not a clever one!’ Still, you’re
    the right colour, and that goes a long way.”

    “I don’t care about the colour,” the Tiger-lily remarked. “If only her
    petals curled up a little more, she’d be all right.”

    Alice didn’t like being criticised, so she began asking questions.
    “Aren’t you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody
    to take care of you?”

    “There’s the tree in the middle,” said the Rose: “what else is it good
    for?”

    “But what could it do, if any danger came?” Alice asked.

    “It says ‘Bough-wough!’” cried a Daisy: “that’s why its branches are
    called boughs!”

    “Didn’t you know _that_?” cried another Daisy, and here they all began
    shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill
    voices. “Silence, every one of you!” cried the Tiger-lily, waving
    itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement.
    “They know I can’t get at them!” it panted, bending its quivering head
    towards Alice, “or they wouldn’t dare to do it!”

    “Never mind!” Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the
    daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, “If you don’t
    hold your tongues, I’ll pick you!”

    There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned
    white.

    “That’s right!” said the Tiger-lily. “The daisies are worst of all.
    When one speaks, they all begin together, and it’s enough to make one
    wither to hear the way they go on!”

    “How is it you can all talk so nicely?” Alice said, hoping to get it
    into a better temper by a compliment. “I’ve been in many gardens
    before, but none of the flowers could talk.”

    “Put your hand down, and feel the ground,” said the Tiger-lily. “Then
    you’ll know why.”

    Alice did so. “It’s very hard,” she said, “but I don’t see what that
    has to do with it.”

    “In most gardens,” the Tiger-lily said, “they make the beds too soft—so
    that the flowers are always asleep.”

    This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know
    it. “I never thought of that before!” she said.

    “It’s _my_ opinion that you never think _at all_,” the Rose said in a
    rather severe tone.

    “I never saw anybody that looked stupider,” a Violet said, so suddenly,
    that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn’t spoken before.

    “Hold _your_ tongue!” cried the Tiger-lily. “As if _you_ ever saw
    anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there,
    till you know no more what’s going on in the world, than if you were a
    bud!”

    “Are there any more people in the garden besides me?” Alice said, not
    choosing to notice the Rose’s last remark.

    “There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,”
    said the Rose. “I wonder how you do it—” (“You’re always wondering,”
    said the Tiger-lily), “but she’s more bushy than you are.”

    “Is she like me?” Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her
    mind, “There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!”

    “Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,” the Rose said, “but
    she’s redder—and her petals are shorter, I think.”

    “Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,” the Tiger-lily
    interrupted: “not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.”

    “But that’s not _your_ fault,” the Rose added kindly: “you’re beginning
    to fade, you know—and then one can’t help one’s petals getting a little
    untidy.”

    Alice didn’t like this idea at all: so, to change the subject, she
    asked “Does she ever come out here?”

    “I daresay you’ll see her soon,” said the Rose. “She’s one of the
    thorny kind.”

    “Where does she wear the thorns?” Alice asked with some curiosity.

    “Why all round her head, of course,” the Rose replied. “I was wondering
    _you_ hadn’t got some too. I thought it was the regular rule.”

    “She’s coming!” cried the Larkspur. “I hear her footstep, thump, thump,
    thump, along the gravel-walk!”

    Alice looked round eagerly, and found that it was the Red Queen. “She’s
    grown a good deal!” was her first remark. She had indeed: when Alice
    first found her in the ashes, she had been only three inches high—and
    here she was, half a head taller than Alice herself!

    “It’s the fresh air that does it,” said the Rose: “wonderfully fine air
    it is, out here.”

    “I think I’ll go and meet her,” said Alice, for, though the flowers
    were interesting enough, she felt that it would be far grander to have
    a talk with a real Queen.

    “You can’t possibly do that,” said the Rose: “_I_ should advise you to
    walk the other way.”

    This sounded nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set off at
    once towards the Red Queen. To her surprise, she lost sight of her in a
    moment, and found herself walking in at the front-door again.

    A little provoked, she drew back, and after looking everywhere for the
    queen (whom she spied out at last, a long way off), she thought she
    would try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction.

    It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking a minute before she
    found herself face to face with the Red Queen, and full in sight of the
    hill she had been so long aiming at.

    “Where do you come from?” said the Red Queen. “And where are you going?
    Look up, speak nicely, and don’t twiddle your fingers all the time.”

    Alice attended to all these directions, and explained, as well as she
    could, that she had lost her way.

    “I don’t know what you mean by _your_ way,” said the Queen: “all the
    ways about here belong to _me_—but why did you come out here at all?”
    she added in a kinder tone. “Curtsey while you’re thinking what to say,
    it saves time.”

    Alice wondered a little at this, but she was too much in awe of the
    Queen to disbelieve it. “I’ll try it when I go home,” she thought to
    herself, “the next time I’m a little late for dinner.”

    “It’s time for you to answer now,” the Queen said, looking at her
    watch: “open your mouth a _little_ wider when you speak, and always say
    ‘your Majesty.’”

    “I only wanted to see what the garden was like, your Majesty—”

    “That’s right,” said the Queen, patting her on the head, which Alice
    didn’t like at all, “though, when you say ‘garden,’—_I’ve_ seen
    gardens, compared with which this would be a wilderness.”

    Alice didn’t dare to argue the point, but went on: “—and I thought I’d
    try and find my way to the top of that hill—”

    “When you say ‘hill,’” the Queen interrupted, “_I_ could show you
    hills, in comparison with which you’d call that a valley.”

    “No, I shouldn’t,” said Alice, surprised into contradicting her at
    last: “a hill _can’t_ be a valley, you know. That would be nonsense—”

    The Red Queen shook her head, “You may call it ‘nonsense’ if you like,”
    she said, “but _I’ve_ heard nonsense, compared with which that would be
    as sensible as a dictionary!”

    Alice curtseyed again, as she was afraid from the Queen’s tone that she
    was a _little_ offended: and they walked on in silence till they got to
    the top of the little hill.

    For some minutes Alice stood without speaking, looking out in all
    directions over the country—and a most curious country it was. There
    were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it from
    side to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a
    number of little green hedges, that reached from brook to brook.

    “I declare it’s marked out just like a large chessboard!” Alice said at
    last. “There ought to be some men moving about somewhere—and so there
    are!” She added in a tone of delight, and her heart began to beat quick
    with excitement as she went on. “It’s a great huge game of chess that’s
    being played—all over the world—if this _is_ the world at all, you
    know. Oh, what fun it is! How I _wish_ I was one of them! I wouldn’t
    mind being a Pawn, if only I might join—though of course I should
    _like_ to be a Queen, best.”

    She glanced rather shyly at the real Queen as she said this, but her
    companion only smiled pleasantly, and said, “That’s easily managed. You
    can be the White Queen’s Pawn, if you like, as Lily’s too young to
    play; and you’re in the Second Square to begin with: when you get to
    the Eighth Square you’ll be a Queen—” Just at this moment, somehow or
    other, they began to run.

    Alice never could quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how
    it was that they began: all she remembers is, that they were running
    hand in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all she could do
    to keep up with her: and still the Queen kept crying “Faster! Faster!”
    but Alice felt she _could not_ go faster, though she had not breath
    left to say so.

    The most curious part of the thing was, that the trees and the other
    things round them never changed their places at all: however fast they
    went, they never seemed to pass anything. “I wonder if all the things
    move along with us?” thought poor puzzled Alice. And the Queen seemed
    to guess her thoughts, for she cried, “Faster! Don’t try to talk!”

    Not that Alice had any idea of doing _that_. She felt as if she would
    never be able to talk again, she was getting so much out of breath: and
    still the Queen cried “Faster! Faster!” and dragged her along. “Are we
    nearly there?” Alice managed to pant out at last.

    “Nearly there!” the Queen repeated. “Why, we passed it ten minutes ago!
    Faster!” And they ran on for a time in silence, with the wind whistling
    in Alice’s ears, and almost blowing her hair off her head, she fancied.

    “Now! Now!” cried the Queen. “Faster! Faster!” And they went so fast
    that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the
    ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as Alice was getting quite
    exhausted, they stopped, and she found herself sitting on the ground,
    breathless and giddy.

    The Queen propped her up against a tree, and said kindly, “You may rest
    a little now.”

    Alice looked round her in great surprise. “Why, I do believe we’ve been
    under this tree the whole time! Everything’s just as it was!”

    “Of course it is,” said the Queen, “what would you have it?”

    “Well, in _our_ country,” said Alice, still panting a little, “you’d
    generally get to somewhere else—if you ran very fast for a long time,
    as we’ve been doing.”

    “A slow sort of country!” said the Queen. “Now, _here_, you see, it
    takes all the running _you_ can do, to keep in the same place. If you
    want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as
    that!”

    “I’d rather not try, please!” said Alice. “I’m quite content to stay
    here—only I _am_ so hot and thirsty!”

    “I know what _you’d_ like!” the Queen said good-naturedly, taking a
    little box out of her pocket. “Have a biscuit?”

    Alice thought it would not be civil to say “No,” though it wasn’t at
    all what she wanted. So she took it, and ate it as well as she could:
    and it was _very_ dry; and she thought she had never been so nearly
    choked in all her life.

    “While you’re refreshing yourself,” said the Queen, “I’ll just take the
    measurements.” And she took a ribbon out of her pocket, marked in
    inches, and began measuring the ground, and sticking little pegs in
    here and there.

    “At the end of two yards,” she said, putting in a peg to mark the
    distance, “I shall give you your directions—have another biscuit?”

    “No, thank you,” said Alice: “one’s _quite_ enough!”

    “Thirst quenched, I hope?” said the Queen.

    Alice did not know what to say to this, but luckily the Queen did not
    wait for an answer, but went on. “At the end of _three_ yards I shall
    repeat them—for fear of your forgetting them. At the end of _four_, I
    shall say good-bye. And at the end of _five_, I shall go!”

    She had got all the pegs put in by this time, and Alice looked on with
    great interest as she returned to the tree, and then began slowly
    walking down the row.

    At the two-yard peg she faced round, and said, “A pawn goes two squares
    in its first move, you know. So you’ll go _very_ quickly through the
    Third Square—by railway, I should think—and you’ll find yourself in the
    Fourth Square in no time. Well, _that_ square belongs to Tweedledum and
    Tweedledee—the Fifth is mostly water—the Sixth belongs to Humpty
    Dumpty—But you make no remark?”

    “I—I didn’t know I had to make one—just then,” Alice faltered out.

    “You _should_ have said, ‘It’s extremely kind of you to tell me all
    this’—however, we’ll suppose it said—the Seventh Square is all
    forest—however, one of the Knights will show you the way—and in the
    Eighth Square we shall be Queens together, and it’s all feasting and
    fun!” Alice got up and curtseyed, and sat down again.

    At the next peg the Queen turned again, and this time she said, “Speak
    in French when you can’t think of the English for a thing—turn out your
    toes as you walk—and remember who you are!” She did not wait for Alice
    to curtsey this time, but walked on quickly to the next peg, where she
    turned for a moment to say “good-bye,” and then hurried on to the last.

    How it happened, Alice never knew, but exactly as she came to the last
    peg, she was gone. Whether she vanished into the air, or whether she
    ran quickly into the wood (“and she _can_ run very fast!” thought
    Alice), there was no way of guessing, but she was gone, and Alice began
    to remember that she was a Pawn, and that it would soon be time for her
    to move.

    CHAPTER III.
    Looking-Glass Insects

    Of course the first thing to do was to make a grand survey of the
    country she was going to travel through. “It’s something very like
    learning geography,” thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe in hopes of
    being able to see a little further. “Principal rivers—there _are_ none.
    Principal mountains—I’m on the only one, but I don’t think it’s got any
    name. Principal towns—why, what _are_ those creatures, making honey
    down there? They can’t be bees—nobody ever saw bees a mile off, you
    know—” and for some time she stood silent, watching one of them that
    was bustling about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them,
    “just as if it was a regular bee,” thought Alice.

    However, this was anything but a regular bee: in fact it was an
    elephant—as Alice soon found out, though the idea quite took her breath
    away at first. “And what enormous flowers they must be!” was her next
    idea. “Something like cottages with the roofs taken off, and stalks put
    to them—and what quantities of honey they must make! I think I’ll go
    down and—no, I won’t _just_ yet,” she went on, checking herself just as
    she was beginning to run down the hill, and trying to find some excuse
    for turning shy so suddenly. “It’ll never do to go down among them
    without a good long branch to brush them away—and what fun it’ll be
    when they ask me how I like my walk. I shall say—‘Oh, I like it well
    enough—’” (here came the favourite little toss of the head), “‘only it
    was so dusty and hot, and the elephants did tease so!’”

    “I think I’ll go down the other way,” she said after a pause: “and
    perhaps I may visit the elephants later on. Besides, I do so want to
    get into the Third Square!”

    So with this excuse she ran down the hill and jumped over the first of
    the six little brooks.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    “Tickets, please!” said the Guard, putting his head in at the window.
    In a moment everybody was holding out a ticket: they were about the
    same size as the people, and quite seemed to fill the carriage.

    “Now then! Show your ticket, child!” the Guard went on, looking angrily
    at Alice. And a great many voices all said together (“like the chorus
    of a song,” thought Alice), “Don’t keep him waiting, child! Why, his
    time is worth a thousand pounds a minute!”

    “I’m afraid I haven’t got one,” Alice said in a frightened tone: “there
    wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.” And again the chorus of
    voices went on. “There wasn’t room for one where she came from. The
    land there is worth a thousand pounds an inch!”

    “Don’t make excuses,” said the Guard: “you should have bought one from
    the engine-driver.” And once more the chorus of voices went on with
    “The man that drives the engine. Why, the smoke alone is worth a
    thousand pounds a puff!”

    Alice thought to herself, “Then there’s no use in speaking.” The voices
    didn’t join in this time, as she hadn’t spoken, but to her great
    surprise, they all _thought_ in chorus (I hope you understand what
    _thinking in chorus_ means—for I must confess that _I_ don’t), “Better
    say nothing at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word!”

    “I shall dream about a thousand pounds tonight, I know I shall!”
    thought Alice.

    All this time the Guard was looking at her, first through a telescope,
    then through a microscope, and then through an opera-glass. At last he
    said, “You’re travelling the wrong way,” and shut up the window and
    went away.

    “So young a child,” said the gentleman sitting opposite to her (he was
    dressed in white paper), “ought to know which way she’s going, even if
    she doesn’t know her own name!”

    A Goat, that was sitting next to the gentleman in white, shut his eyes
    and said in a loud voice, “She ought to know her way to the
    ticket-office, even if she doesn’t know her alphabet!”

    There was a Beetle sitting next to the Goat (it was a very queer
    carriage-full of passengers altogether), and, as the rule seemed to be
    that they should all speak in turn, _he_ went on with “She’ll have to
    go back from here as luggage!”

    Alice couldn’t see who was sitting beyond the Beetle, but a hoarse
    voice spoke next. “Change engines—” it said, and was obliged to leave
    off.

    “It sounds like a horse,” Alice thought to herself. And an extremely
    small voice, close to her ear, said, “You might make a joke on
    that—something about ‘horse’ and ‘hoarse,’ you know.”

    Then a very gentle voice in the distance said, “She must be labelled
    ‘Lass, with care,’ you know—”

    And after that other voices went on (“What a number of people there are
    in the carriage!” thought Alice), saying, “She must go by post, as
    she’s got a head on her—” “She must be sent as a message by the
    telegraph—” “She must draw the train herself the rest of the way—” and
    so on.

    But the gentleman dressed in white paper leaned forwards and whispered
    in her ear, “Never mind what they all say, my dear, but take a
    return-ticket every time the train stops.”

    “Indeed I shan’t!” Alice said rather impatiently. “I don’t belong to
    this railway journey at all—I was in a wood just now—and I wish I could
    get back there.”

    “You might make a joke on _that_,” said the little voice close to her
    ear: “something about ‘you _would_ if you could,’ you know.”

    “Don’t tease so,” said Alice, looking about in vain to see where the
    voice came from; “if you’re so anxious to have a joke made, why don’t
    you make one yourself?”

    The little voice sighed deeply: it was _very_ unhappy, evidently, and
    Alice would have said something pitying to comfort it, “If it would
    only sigh like other people!” she thought. But this was such a
    wonderfully small sigh, that she wouldn’t have heard it at all, if it
    hadn’t come _quite_ close to her ear. The consequence of this was that
    it tickled her ear very much, and quite took off her thoughts from the
    unhappiness of the poor little creature.

    “I know you are a friend,” the little voice went on; “a dear friend,
    and an old friend. And you won’t hurt me, though I _am_ an insect.”

    “What kind of insect?” Alice inquired a little anxiously. What she
    really wanted to know was, whether it could sting or not, but she
    thought this wouldn’t be quite a civil question to ask.

    “What, then you don’t—” the little voice began, when it was drowned by
    a shrill scream from the engine, and everybody jumped up in alarm,
    Alice among the rest.

    The Horse, who had put his head out of the window, quietly drew it in
    and said, “It’s only a brook we have to jump over.” Everybody seemed
    satisfied with this, though Alice felt a little nervous at the idea of
    trains jumping at all. “However, it’ll take us into the Fourth Square,
    that’s some comfort!” she said to herself. In another moment she felt
    the carriage rise straight up into the air, and in her fright she
    caught at the thing nearest to her hand, which happened to be the
    Goat’s beard.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    But the beard seemed to melt away as she touched it, and she found
    herself sitting quietly under a tree—while the Gnat (for that was the
    insect she had been talking to) was balancing itself on a twig just
    over her head, and fanning her with its wings.

    It certainly was a _very_ large Gnat: “about the size of a chicken,”
    Alice thought. Still, she couldn’t feel nervous with it, after they had
    been talking together so long.

    “—then you don’t like all insects?” the Gnat went on, as quietly as if
    nothing had happened.

    “I like them when they can talk,” Alice said. “None of them ever talk,
    where _I_ come from.”

    “What sort of insects do you rejoice in, where _you_ come from?” the
    Gnat inquired.

    “I don’t _rejoice_ in insects at all,” Alice explained, “because I’m
    rather afraid of them—at least the large kinds. But I can tell you the
    names of some of them.”

    “Of course they answer to their names?” the Gnat remarked carelessly.

    “I never knew them to do it.”

    “What’s the use of their having names,” the Gnat said, “if they won’t
    answer to them?”

    “No use to _them_,” said Alice; “but it’s useful to the people who name
    them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?”

    “I can’t say,” the Gnat replied. “Further on, in the wood down there,
    they’ve got no names—however, go on with your list of insects: you’re
    wasting time.”

    “Well, there’s the Horse-fly,” Alice began, counting off the names on
    her fingers.

    “All right,” said the Gnat: “half way up that bush, you’ll see a
    Rocking-horse-fly, if you look. It’s made entirely of wood, and gets
    about by swinging itself from branch to branch.”

    “What does it live on?” Alice asked, with great curiosity.

    “Sap and sawdust,” said the Gnat. “Go on with the list.”

    Alice looked up at the Rocking-horse-fly with great interest, and made
    up her mind that it must have been just repainted, it looked so bright
    and sticky; and then she went on.

    “And there’s the Dragon-fly.”

    “Look on the branch above your head,” said the Gnat, “and there you’ll
    find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of
    holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.”

    “And what does it live on?”

    “Frumenty and mince pie,” the Gnat replied; “and it makes its nest in a
    Christmas box.”

    “And then there’s the Butterfly,” Alice went on, after she had taken a
    good look at the insect with its head on fire, and had thought to
    herself, “I wonder if that’s the reason insects are so fond of flying
    into candles—because they want to turn into Snap-dragon-flies!”

    “Crawling at your feet,” said the Gnat (Alice drew her feet back in
    some alarm), “you may observe a Bread-and-Butterfly. Its wings are thin
    slices of Bread-and-butter, its body is a crust, and its head is a lump
    of sugar.”

    “And what does _it_ live on?”

    “Weak tea with cream in it.”

    A new difficulty came into Alice’s head. “Supposing it couldn’t find
    any?” she suggested.

    “Then it would die, of course.”

    “But that must happen very often,” Alice remarked thoughtfully.

    “It always happens,” said the Gnat.

    After this, Alice was silent for a minute or two, pondering. The Gnat
    amused itself meanwhile by humming round and round her head: at last it
    settled again and remarked, “I suppose you don’t want to lose your
    name?”

    “No, indeed,” Alice said, a little anxiously.

    “And yet I don’t know,” the Gnat went on in a careless tone: “only
    think how convenient it would be if you could manage to go home without
    it! For instance, if the governess wanted to call you to your lessons,
    she would call out ‘come here—,’ and there she would have to leave off,
    because there wouldn’t be any name for her to call, and of course you
    wouldn’t have to go, you know.”

    “That would never do, I’m sure,” said Alice: “the governess would never
    think of excusing me lessons for that. If she couldn’t remember my
    name, she’d call me ‘Miss!’ as the servants do.”

    “Well, if she said ‘Miss,’ and didn’t say anything more,” the Gnat
    remarked, “of course you’d miss your lessons. That’s a joke. I wish
    _you_ had made it.”

    “Why do you wish _I_ had made it?” Alice asked. “It’s a very bad one.”

    But the Gnat only sighed deeply, while two large tears came rolling
    down its cheeks.

    “You shouldn’t make jokes,” Alice said, “if it makes you so unhappy.”

    Then came another of those melancholy little sighs, and this time the
    poor Gnat really seemed to have sighed itself away, for, when Alice
    looked up, there was nothing whatever to be seen on the twig, and, as
    she was getting quite chilly with sitting still so long, she got up and
    walked on.

    She very soon came to an open field, with a wood on the other side of
    it: it looked much darker than the last wood, and Alice felt a _little_
    timid about going into it. However, on second thoughts, she made up her
    mind to go on: “for I certainly won’t go _back_,” she thought to
    herself, and this was the only way to the Eighth Square.

    “This must be the wood,” she said thoughtfully to herself, “where
    things have no names. I wonder what’ll become of _my_ name when I go
    in? I shouldn’t like to lose it at all—because they’d have to give me
    another, and it would be almost certain to be an ugly one. But then the
    fun would be trying to find the creature that had got my old name!
    That’s just like the advertisements, you know, when people lose
    dogs—‘_answers to the name of “Dash:” had on a brass collar_’—just
    fancy calling everything you met ‘Alice,’ till one of them answered!
    Only they wouldn’t answer at all, if they were wise.”

    She was rambling on in this way when she reached the wood: it looked
    very cool and shady. “Well, at any rate it’s a great comfort,” she said
    as she stepped under the trees, “after being so hot, to get into
    the—into _what_?” she went on, rather surprised at not being able to
    think of the word. “I mean to get under the—under the—under _this_, you
    know!” putting her hand on the trunk of the tree. “What _does_ it call
    itself, I wonder? I do believe it’s got no name—why, to be sure it
    hasn’t!”

    She stood silent for a minute, thinking: then she suddenly began again.
    “Then it really _has_ happened, after all! And now, who am I? I _will_
    remember, if I can! I’m determined to do it!” But being determined
    didn’t help much, and all she could say, after a great deal of
    puzzling, was, “L, I _know_ it begins with L!”

    Just then a Fawn came wandering by: it looked at Alice with its large
    gentle eyes, but didn’t seem at all frightened. “Here then! Here then!”
    Alice said, as she held out her hand and tried to stroke it; but it
    only started back a little, and then stood looking at her again.

    “What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet
    voice it had!

    “I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly,
    “Nothing, just now.”

    “Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”

    Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what
    _you_ call yourself?” she said timidly. “I think that might help a
    little.”

    “I’ll tell you, if you’ll move a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I
    can’t remember here.”

    So they walked on together though the wood, Alice with her arms clasped
    lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into
    another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air,
    and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in
    a voice of delight, “and, dear me! you’re a human child!” A sudden look
    of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it
    had darted away at full speed.

    Alice stood looking after it, almost ready to cry with vexation at
    having lost her dear little fellow-traveller so suddenly. “However, I
    know my name now.” she said, “that’s _some_ comfort. Alice—Alice—I
    won’t forget it again. And now, which of these finger-posts ought I to
    follow, I wonder?”

    It was not a very difficult question to answer, as there was only one
    road through the wood, and the two finger-posts both pointed along it.
    “I’ll settle it,” Alice said to herself, “when the road divides and
    they point different ways.”

    But this did not seem likely to happen. She went on and on, a long way,
    but wherever the road divided there were sure to be two finger-posts
    pointing the same way, one marked “TO TWEEDLEDUM’S HOUSE” and the other
    “TO THE HOUSE OF TWEEDLEDEE.”

    “I do believe,” said Alice at last, “that they live in the same house!
    I wonder I never thought of that before—But I can’t stay there long.
    I’ll just call and say ‘how d’you do?’ and ask them the way out of the
    wood. If I could only get to the Eighth Square before it gets dark!” So
    she wandered on, talking to herself as she went, till, on turning a
    sharp corner, she came upon two fat little men, so suddenly that she
    could not help starting back, but in another moment she recovered
    herself, feeling sure that they must be

    CHAPTER IV.
    Tweedledum And Tweedledee

    They were standing under a tree, each with an arm round the other’s
    neck, and Alice knew which was which in a moment, because one of them
    had “DUM” embroidered on his collar, and the other “DEE.” “I suppose
    they’ve each got ‘TWEEDLE’ round at the back of the collar,” she said
    to herself.

    They stood so still that she quite forgot they were alive, and she was
    just looking round to see if the word ‘TWEEDLE’ was written at the back
    of each collar, when she was startled by a voice coming from the one
    marked “DUM.”

    “If you think we’re wax-works,” he said, “you ought to pay, you know.
    Wax-works weren’t made to be looked at for nothing, nohow!”

    “Contrariwise,” added the one marked “DEE,” “if you think we’re alive,
    you ought to speak.”

    “I’m sure I’m very sorry,” was all Alice could say; for the words of
    the old song kept ringing through her head like the ticking of a clock,
    and she could hardly help saying them out loud:—

    “Tweedledum and Tweedledee
    Agreed to have a battle;
    For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
    Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

    Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
    As black as a tar-barrel;
    Which frightened both the heroes so,
    They quite forgot their quarrel.”

    “I know what you’re thinking about,” said Tweedledum: “but it isn’t so,
    nohow.”

    “Contrariwise,” continued Tweedledee, “if it was so, it might be; and
    if it were so, it would be; but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.”

    “I was thinking,” Alice said very politely, “which is the best way out
    of this wood: it’s getting so dark. Would you tell me, please?”

    But the little men only looked at each other and grinned.

    They looked so exactly like a couple of great schoolboys, that Alice
    couldn’t help pointing her finger at Tweedledum, and saying “First
    Boy!”

    “Nohow!” Tweedledum cried out briskly, and shut his mouth up again with
    a snap.

    “Next Boy!” said Alice, passing on to Tweedledee, though she felt quite
    certain he would only shout out “Contrariwise!” and so he did.

    “You’ve been wrong!” cried Tweedledum. “The first thing in a visit is
    to say ‘How d’ye do?’ and shake hands!” And here the two brothers gave
    each other a hug, and then they held out the two hands that were free,
    to shake hands with her.

    Alice did not like shaking hands with either of them first, for fear of
    hurting the other one’s feelings; so, as the best way out of the
    difficulty, she took hold of both hands at once: the next moment they
    were dancing round in a ring. This seemed quite natural (she remembered
    afterwards), and she was not even surprised to hear music playing: it
    seemed to come from the tree under which they were dancing, and it was
    done (as well as she could make it out) by the branches rubbing one
    across the other, like fiddles and fiddle-sticks.

    “But it certainly _was_ funny,” (Alice said afterwards, when she was
    telling her sister the history of all this,) “to find myself singing
    ‘_Here we go round the mulberry bush_.’ I don’t know when I began it,
    but somehow I felt as if I’d been singing it a long long time!”

    The other two dancers were fat, and very soon out of breath. “Four
    times round is enough for one dance,” Tweedledum panted out, and they
    left off dancing as suddenly as they had begun: the music stopped at
    the same moment.

    Then they let go of Alice’s hands, and stood looking at her for a
    minute: there was a rather awkward pause, as Alice didn’t know how to
    begin a conversation with people she had just been dancing with. “It
    would never do to say ‘How d’ye do?’ _now_,” she said to herself: “we
    seem to have got beyond that, somehow!”

    “I hope you’re not much tired?” she said at last.

    “Nohow. And thank you _very_ much for asking,” said Tweedledum.

    “So _much_ obliged!” added Tweedledee. “You like poetry?”

    “Ye-es, pretty well—_some_ poetry,” Alice said doubtfully. “Would you
    tell me which road leads out of the wood?”

    “What shall I repeat to her?” said Tweedledee, looking round at
    Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice’s question.

    “‘_The Walrus and the Carpenter_’ is the longest,” Tweedledum replied,
    giving his brother an affectionate hug.

    Tweedledee began instantly:

    “The sun was shining—”

    Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. “If it’s _very_ long,” she said,
    as politely as she could, “would you please tell me first which road—”

    Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:

    “The sun was shining on the sea,
    Shining with all his might:
    He did his very best to make
    The billows smooth and bright—
    And this was odd, because it was
    The middle of the night.

    The moon was shining sulkily,
    Because she thought the sun
    Had got no business to be there
    After the day was done—
    ‘It’s very rude of him,’ she said,
    ‘To come and spoil the fun!’

    The sea was wet as wet could be,
    The sands were dry as dry.
    You could not see a cloud, because
    No cloud was in the sky:
    No birds were flying over head—
    There were no birds to fly.

    The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Were walking close at hand;
    They wept like anything to see
    Such quantities of sand:
    ‘If this were only cleared away,’
    They said, ‘it _would_ be grand!’

    ‘If seven maids with seven mops
    Swept it for half a year,
    Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘That they could get it clear?’
    ‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
    And shed a bitter tear.

    ‘O Oysters, come and walk with us!’
    The Walrus did beseech.
    ‘A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
    Along the briny beach:
    We cannot do with more than four,
    To give a hand to each.’

    The eldest Oyster looked at him.
    But never a word he said:
    The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
    And shook his heavy head—
    Meaning to say he did not choose
    To leave the oyster-bed.

    But four young oysters hurried up,
    All eager for the treat:
    Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
    Their shoes were clean and neat—
    And this was odd, because, you know,
    They hadn’t any feet.

    Four other Oysters followed them,
    And yet another four;
    And thick and fast they came at last,
    And more, and more, and more—
    All hopping through the frothy waves,
    And scrambling to the shore.

    The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Walked on a mile or so,
    And then they rested on a rock
    Conveniently low:
    And all the little Oysters stood
    And waited in a row.

    ‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘To talk of many things:
    Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
    Of cabbages—and kings—
    And why the sea is boiling hot—
    And whether pigs have wings.’

    ‘But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
    ‘Before we have our chat;
    For some of us are out of breath,
    And all of us are fat!’
    ‘No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
    They thanked him much for that.

    ‘A loaf of bread,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘Is what we chiefly need:
    Pepper and vinegar besides
    Are very good indeed—
    Now if you’re ready Oysters dear,
    We can begin to feed.’

    ‘But not on us!’ the Oysters cried,
    Turning a little blue,
    ‘After such kindness, that would be
    A dismal thing to do!’
    ‘The night is fine,’ the Walrus said
    ‘Do you admire the view?

    ‘It was so kind of you to come!
    And you are very nice!’
    The Carpenter said nothing but
    ‘Cut us another slice:
    I wish you were not quite so deaf—
    I’ve had to ask you twice!’

    ‘It seems a shame,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘To play them such a trick,
    After we’ve brought them out so far,
    And made them trot so quick!’
    The Carpenter said nothing but
    ‘The butter’s spread too thick!’

    ‘I weep for you,’ the Walrus said.
    ‘I deeply sympathize.’
    With sobs and tears he sorted out
    Those of the largest size.
    Holding his pocket handkerchief
    Before his streaming eyes.

    ‘O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter.
    ‘You’ve had a pleasant run!
    Shall we be trotting home again?’
    But answer came there none—
    And that was scarcely odd, because
    They’d eaten every one.”

    “I like the Walrus best,” said Alice: “because you see he was a
    _little_ sorry for the poor oysters.”

    “He ate more than the Carpenter, though,” said Tweedledee. “You see he
    held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn’t count
    how many he took: contrariwise.”

    “That was mean!” Alice said indignantly. “Then I like the Carpenter
    best—if he didn’t eat so many as the Walrus.”

    “But he ate as many as he could get,” said Tweedledum.

    This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, “Well! They were _both_
    very unpleasant characters—” Here she checked herself in some alarm, at
    hearing something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large
    steam-engine in the wood near them, though she feared it was more
    likely to be a wild beast. “Are there any lions or tigers about here?”
    she asked timidly.

    “It’s only the Red King snoring,” said Tweedledee.

    “Come and look at him!” the brothers cried, and they each took one of
    Alice’s hands, and led her up to where the King was sleeping.

    “Isn’t he a _lovely_ sight?” said Tweedledum.

    Alice couldn’t say honestly that he was. He had a tall red night-cap
    on, with a tassel, and he was lying crumpled up into a sort of untidy
    heap, and snoring loud—“fit to snore his head off!” as Tweedledum
    remarked.

    “I’m afraid he’ll catch cold with lying on the damp grass,” said Alice,
    who was a very thoughtful little girl.

    “He’s dreaming now,” said Tweedledee: “and what do you think he’s
    dreaming about?”

    Alice said “Nobody can guess that.”

    “Why, about _you_!” Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands
    triumphantly. “And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you
    suppose you’d be?”

    “Where I am now, of course,” said Alice.

    “Not you!” Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. “You’d be nowhere. Why,
    you’re only a sort of thing in his dream!”

    “If that there King was to wake,” added Tweedledum, “you’d go
    out—bang!—just like a candle!”

    “I shouldn’t!” Alice exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, if _I’m_ only a
    sort of thing in his dream, what are _you_, I should like to know?”

    “Ditto” said Tweedledum.

    “Ditto, ditto” cried Tweedledee.

    He shouted this so loud that Alice couldn’t help saying, “Hush! You’ll
    be waking him, I’m afraid, if you make so much noise.”

    “Well, it no use _your_ talking about waking him,” said Tweedledum,
    “when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well
    you’re not real.”

    “I _am_ real!” said Alice and began to cry.

    “You won’t make yourself a bit realler by crying,” Tweedledee remarked:
    “there’s nothing to cry about.”

    “If I wasn’t real,” Alice said—half-laughing through her tears, it all
    seemed so ridiculous—“I shouldn’t be able to cry.”

    “I hope you don’t suppose those are real tears?” Tweedledum interrupted
    in a tone of great contempt.

    “I know they’re talking nonsense,” Alice thought to herself: “and it’s
    foolish to cry about it.” So she brushed away her tears, and went on as
    cheerfully as she could. “At any rate I’d better be getting out of the
    wood, for really it’s coming on very dark. Do you think it’s going to
    rain?”

    Tweedledum spread a large umbrella over himself and his brother, and
    looked up into it. “No, I don’t think it is,” he said: “at least—not
    under _here_. Nohow.”

    “But it may rain _outside_?”

    “It may—if it chooses,” said Tweedledee: “we’ve no objection.
    Contrariwise.”

    “Selfish things!” thought Alice, and she was just going to say
    “Good-night” and leave them, when Tweedledum sprang out from under the
    umbrella and seized her by the wrist.

    “Do you see _that_?” he said, in a voice choking with passion, and his
    eyes grew large and yellow all in a moment, as he pointed with a
    trembling finger at a small white thing lying under the tree.

    “It’s only a rattle,” Alice said, after a careful examination of the
    little white thing. “Not a rattle-_snake_, you know,” she added
    hastily, thinking that he was frightened: “only an old rattle—quite old
    and broken.”

    “I knew it was!” cried Tweedledum, beginning to stamp about wildly and
    tear his hair. “It’s spoilt, of course!” Here he looked at Tweedledee,
    who immediately sat down on the ground, and tried to hide himself under
    the umbrella.

    Alice laid her hand upon his arm, and said in a soothing tone, “You
    needn’t be so angry about an old rattle.”

    “But it isn’t old!” Tweedledum cried, in a greater fury than ever.
    “It’s new, I tell you—I bought it yesterday—my nice new RATTLE!” and
    his voice rose to a perfect scream.

    All this time Tweedledee was trying his best to fold up the umbrella,
    with himself in it: which was such an extraordinary thing to do, that
    it quite took off Alice’s attention from the angry brother. But he
    couldn’t quite succeed, and it ended in his rolling over, bundled up in
    the umbrella, with only his head out: and there he lay, opening and
    shutting his mouth and his large eyes—“looking more like a fish than
    anything else,” Alice thought.

    “Of course you agree to have a battle?” Tweedledum said in a calmer
    tone.

    “I suppose so,” the other sulkily replied, as he crawled out of the
    umbrella: “only _she_ must help us to dress up, you know.”

    So the two brothers went off hand-in-hand into the wood, and returned
    in a minute with their arms full of things—such as bolsters, blankets,
    hearth-rugs, table-cloths, dish-covers and coal-scuttles. “I hope
    you’re a good hand at pinning and tying strings?” Tweedledum remarked.
    “Every one of these things has got to go on, somehow or other.”

    Alice said afterwards she had never seen such a fuss made about
    anything in all her life—the way those two bustled about—and the
    quantity of things they put on—and the trouble they gave her in tying
    strings and fastening buttons—“Really they’ll be more like bundles of
    old clothes than anything else, by the time they’re ready!” she said to
    herself, as she arranged a bolster round the neck of Tweedledee, “to
    keep his head from being cut off,” as he said.

    “You know,” he added very gravely, “it’s one of the most serious things
    that can possibly happen to one in a battle—to get one’s head cut off.”

    Alice laughed aloud: but she managed to turn it into a cough, for fear
    of hurting his feelings.

    “Do I look very pale?” said Tweedledum, coming up to have his helmet
    tied on. (He _called_ it a helmet, though it certainly looked much more
    like a saucepan.)

    “Well—yes—a _little_,” Alice replied gently.

    “I’m very brave generally,” he went on in a low voice: “only to-day I
    happen to have a headache.”

    “And _I’ve_ got a toothache!” said Tweedledee, who had overheard the
    remark. “I’m far worse off than you!”

    “Then you’d better not fight to-day,” said Alice, thinking it a good
    opportunity to make peace.

    “We _must_ have a bit of a fight, but I don’t care about going on
    long,” said Tweedledum. “What’s the time now?”

    Tweedledee looked at his watch, and said “Half-past four.”

    “Let’s fight till six, and then have dinner,” said Tweedledum.

    “Very well,” the other said, rather sadly: “and _she_ can watch us—only
    you’d better not come _very_ close,” he added: “I generally hit
    everything I can see—when I get really excited.”

    “And _I_ hit everything within reach,” cried Tweedledum, “whether I can
    see it or not!”

    Alice laughed. “You must hit the _trees_ pretty often, I should think,”
    she said.

    Tweedledum looked round him with a satisfied smile. “I don’t suppose,”
    he said, “there’ll be a tree left standing, for ever so far round, by
    the time we’ve finished!”

    “And all about a rattle!” said Alice, still hoping to make them a
    _little_ ashamed of fighting for such a trifle.

    “I shouldn’t have minded it so much,” said Tweedledum, “if it hadn’t
    been a new one.”

    “I wish the monstrous crow would come!” thought Alice.

    “There’s only one sword, you know,” Tweedledum said to his brother:
    “but you can have the umbrella—it’s quite as sharp. Only we must begin
    quick. It’s getting as dark as it can.”

    “And darker,” said Tweedledee.

    It was getting dark so suddenly that Alice thought there must be a
    thunderstorm coming on. “What a thick black cloud that is!” she said.
    “And how fast it comes! Why, I do believe it’s got wings!”

    “It’s the crow!” Tweedledum cried out in a shrill voice of alarm: and
    the two brothers took to their heels and were out of sight in a moment.

    Alice ran a little way into the wood, and stopped under a large tree.
    “It can never get at me _here_,” she thought: “it’s far too large to
    squeeze itself in among the trees. But I wish it wouldn’t flap its
    wings so—it makes quite a hurricane in the wood—here’s somebody’s shawl
    being blown away!”

    CHAPTER V.
    Wool and Water

    She caught the shawl as she spoke, and looked about for the owner: in
    another moment the White Queen came running wildly through the wood,
    with both arms stretched out wide, as if she were flying, and Alice
    very civilly went to meet her with the shawl.

    “I’m very glad I happened to be in the way,” Alice said, as she helped
    her to put on her shawl again.

    The White Queen only looked at her in a helpless frightened sort of
    way, and kept repeating something in a whisper to herself that sounded
    like “bread-and-butter, bread-and-butter,” and Alice felt that if there
    was to be any conversation at all, she must manage it herself. So she
    began rather timidly: “Am I addressing the White Queen?”

    “Well, yes, if you call that a-dressing,” The Queen said. “It isn’t
    _my_ notion of the thing, at all.”

    Alice thought it would never do to have an argument at the very
    beginning of their conversation, so she smiled and said, “If your
    Majesty will only tell me the right way to begin, I’ll do it as well as
    I can.”

    “But I don’t want it done at all!” groaned the poor Queen. “I’ve been
    a-dressing myself for the last two hours.”

    It would have been all the better, as it seemed to Alice, if she had
    got some one else to dress her, she was so dreadfully untidy. “Every
    single thing’s crooked,” Alice thought to herself, “and she’s all over
    pins!—may I put your shawl straight for you?” she added aloud.

    “I don’t know what’s the matter with it!” the Queen said, in a
    melancholy voice. “It’s out of temper, I think. I’ve pinned it here,
    and I’ve pinned it there, but there’s no pleasing it!”

    “It _can’t_ go straight, you know, if you pin it all on one side,”
    Alice said, as she gently put it right for her; “and, dear me, what a
    state your hair is in!”

    “The brush has got entangled in it!” the Queen said with a sigh. “And I
    lost the comb yesterday.”

    Alice carefully released the brush, and did her best to get the hair
    into order. “Come, you look rather better now!” she said, after
    altering most of the pins. “But really you should have a lady’s maid!”

    “I’m sure I’ll take you with pleasure!” the Queen said. “Twopence a
    week, and jam every other day.”

    Alice couldn’t help laughing, as she said, “I don’t want you to hire
    _me_—and I don’t care for jam.”

    “It’s very good jam,” said the Queen.

    “Well, I don’t want any _to-day_, at any rate.”

    “You couldn’t have it if you _did_ want it,” the Queen said. “The rule
    is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday—but never jam to-day.”

    “It _must_ come sometimes to ‘jam to-day,’” Alice objected.

    “No, it can’t,” said the Queen. “It’s jam every _other_ day: to-day
    isn’t any _other_ day, you know.”

    “I don’t understand you,” said Alice. “It’s dreadfully confusing!”

    “That’s the effect of living backwards,” the Queen said kindly: “it
    always makes one a little giddy at first—”

    “Living backwards!” Alice repeated in great astonishment. “I never
    heard of such a thing!”

    “—but there’s one great advantage in it, that one’s memory works both
    ways.”

    “I’m sure _mine_ only works one way,” Alice remarked. “I can’t remember
    things before they happen.”

    “It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,” the Queen
    remarked.

    “What sort of things do _you_ remember best?” Alice ventured to ask.

    “Oh, things that happened the week after next,” the Queen replied in a
    careless tone. “For instance, now,” she went on, sticking a large piece
    of plaster on her finger as she spoke, “there’s the King’s Messenger.
    He’s in prison now, being punished: and the trial doesn’t even begin
    till next Wednesday: and of course the crime comes last of all.”

    “Suppose he never commits the crime?” said Alice.

    “That would be all the better, wouldn’t it?” the Queen said, as she
    bound the plaster round her finger with a bit of ribbon.

    Alice felt there was no denying _that_. “Of course it would be all the
    better,” she said: “but it wouldn’t be all the better his being
    punished.”

    “You’re wrong _there_, at any rate,” said the Queen: “were _you_ ever
    punished?”

    “Only for faults,” said Alice.

    “And you were all the better for it, I know!” the Queen said
    triumphantly.

    “Yes, but then I _had_ done the things I was punished for,” said Alice:
    “that makes all the difference.”

    “But if you _hadn’t_ done them,” the Queen said, “that would have been
    better still; better, and better, and better!” Her voice went higher
    with each “better,” till it got quite to a squeak at last.

    Alice was just beginning to say “There’s a mistake somewhere—,” when
    the Queen began screaming so loud that she had to leave the sentence
    unfinished. “Oh, oh, oh!” shouted the Queen, shaking her hand about as
    if she wanted to shake it off. “My finger’s bleeding! Oh, oh, oh, oh!”

    Her screams were so exactly like the whistle of a steam-engine, that
    Alice had to hold both her hands over her ears.

    “What _is_ the matter?” she said, as soon as there was a chance of
    making herself heard. “Have you pricked your finger?”

    “I haven’t pricked it _yet_,” the Queen said, “but I soon shall—oh, oh,
    oh!”

    “When do you expect to do it?” Alice asked, feeling very much inclined
    to laugh.

    “When I fasten my shawl again,” the poor Queen groaned out: “the brooch
    will come undone directly. Oh, oh!” As she said the words the brooch
    flew open, and the Queen clutched wildly at it, and tried to clasp it
    again.

    “Take care!” cried Alice. “You’re holding it all crooked!” And she
    caught at the brooch; but it was too late: the pin had slipped, and the
    Queen had pricked her finger.

    “That accounts for the bleeding, you see,” she said to Alice with a
    smile. “Now you understand the way things happen here.”

    “But why don’t you scream now?” Alice asked, holding her hands ready to
    put over her ears again.

    “Why, I’ve done all the screaming already,” said the Queen. “What would
    be the good of having it all over again?”

    By this time it was getting light. “The crow must have flown away, I
    think,” said Alice: “I’m so glad it’s gone. I thought it was the night
    coming on.”

    “I wish _I_ could manage to be glad!” the Queen said. “Only I never can
    remember the rule. You must be very happy, living in this wood, and
    being glad whenever you like!”

    “Only it is so _very_ lonely here!” Alice said in a melancholy voice;
    and at the thought of her loneliness two large tears came rolling down
    her cheeks.

    “Oh, don’t go on like that!” cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands
    in despair. “Consider what a great girl you are. Consider what a long
    way you’ve come to-day. Consider what o’clock it is. Consider anything,
    only don’t cry!”

    Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears.
    “Can _you_ keep from crying by considering things?” she asked.

    “That’s the way it’s done,” the Queen said with great decision: “nobody
    can do two things at once, you know. Let’s consider your age to begin
    with—how old are you?”

    “I’m seven and a half exactly.”

    “You needn’t say ‘exactually,’” the Queen remarked: “I can believe it
    without that. Now I’ll give _you_ something to believe. I’m just one
    hundred and one, five months and a day.”

    “I can’t believe _that_!” said Alice.

    “Can’t you?” the Queen said in a pitying tone. “Try again: draw a long
    breath, and shut your eyes.”

    Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one _can’t_ believe
    impossible things.”

    “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was
    your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve
    believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. There goes
    the shawl again!”

    The brooch had come undone as she spoke, and a sudden gust of wind blew
    the Queen’s shawl across a little brook. The Queen spread out her arms
    again, and went flying after it, and this time she succeeded in
    catching it for herself. “I’ve got it!” she cried in a triumphant tone.
    “Now you shall see me pin it on again, all by myself!”

    “Then I hope your finger is better now?” Alice said very politely, as
    she crossed the little brook after the Queen.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    “Oh, much better!” cried the Queen, her voice rising to a squeak as she
    went on. “Much be-etter! Be-etter! Be-e-e-etter! Be-e-ehh!” The last
    word ended in a long bleat, so like a sheep that Alice quite started.

    She looked at the Queen, who seemed to have suddenly wrapped herself up
    in wool. Alice rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She couldn’t make out
    what had happened at all. Was she in a shop? And was that really—was it
    really a _sheep_ that was sitting on the other side of the counter? Rub
    as she could, she could make nothing more of it: she was in a little
    dark shop, leaning with her elbows on the counter, and opposite to her
    was an old Sheep, sitting in an arm-chair knitting, and every now and
    then leaving off to look at her through a great pair of spectacles.

    “What is it you want to buy?” the Sheep said at last, looking up for a
    moment from her knitting.

    “I don’t _quite_ know yet,” Alice said, very gently. “I should like to
    look all round me first, if I might.”

    “You may look in front of you, and on both sides, if you like,” said
    the Sheep: “but you can’t look _all_ round you—unless you’ve got eyes
    at the back of your head.”

    But these, as it happened, Alice had _not_ got: so she contented
    herself with turning round, looking at the shelves as she came to them.

    The shop seemed to be full of all manner of curious things—but the
    oddest part of it all was, that whenever she looked hard at any shelf,
    to make out exactly what it had on it, that particular shelf was always
    quite empty: though the others round it were crowded as full as they
    could hold.

    “Things flow about so here!” she said at last in a plaintive tone,
    after she had spent a minute or so in vainly pursuing a large bright
    thing, that looked sometimes like a doll and sometimes like a work-box,
    and was always in the shelf next above the one she was looking at. “And
    this one is the most provoking of all—but I’ll tell you what—” she
    added, as a sudden thought struck her, “I’ll follow it up to the very
    top shelf of all. It’ll puzzle it to go through the ceiling, I expect!”

    But even this plan failed: the “thing” went through the ceiling as
    quietly as possible, as if it were quite used to it.

    “Are you a child or a teetotum?” the Sheep said, as she took up another
    pair of needles. “You’ll make me giddy soon, if you go on turning round
    like that.” She was now working with fourteen pairs at once, and Alice
    couldn’t help looking at her in great astonishment.

    “How _can_ she knit with so many?” the puzzled child thought to
    herself. “She gets more and more like a porcupine every minute!”

    “Can you row?” the Sheep asked, handing her a pair of knitting-needles
    as she spoke.

    “Yes, a little—but not on land—and not with needles—” Alice was
    beginning to say, when suddenly the needles turned into oars in her
    hands, and she found they were in a little boat, gliding along between
    banks: so there was nothing for it but to do her best.

    “Feather!” cried the Sheep, as she took up another pair of needles.

    This didn’t sound like a remark that needed any answer, so Alice said
    nothing, but pulled away. There was something very queer about the
    water, she thought, as every now and then the oars got fast in it, and
    would hardly come out again.

    “Feather! Feather!” the Sheep cried again, taking more needles. “You’ll
    be catching a crab directly.”

    “A dear little crab!” thought Alice. “I should like that.”

    “Didn’t you hear me say ‘Feather’?” the Sheep cried angrily, taking up
    quite a bunch of needles.

    “Indeed I did,” said Alice: “you’ve said it very often—and very loud.
    Please, where _are_ the crabs?”

    “In the water, of course!” said the Sheep, sticking some of the needles
    into her hair, as her hands were full. “Feather, I say!”

    “_Why_ do you say ‘feather’ so often?” Alice asked at last, rather
    vexed. “I’m not a bird!”

    “You are,” said the Sheep: “you’re a little goose.”

    This offended Alice a little, so there was no more conversation for a
    minute or two, while the boat glided gently on, sometimes among beds of
    weeds (which made the oars stick fast in the water, worse then ever),
    and sometimes under trees, but always with the same tall river-banks
    frowning over their heads.

    “Oh, please! There are some scented rushes!” Alice cried in a sudden
    transport of delight. “There really are—and _such_ beauties!”

    “You needn’t say ‘please’ to _me_ about ’em,” the Sheep said, without
    looking up from her knitting: “I didn’t put ’em there, and I’m not
    going to take ’em away.”

    “No, but I meant—please, may we wait and pick some?” Alice pleaded. “If
    you don’t mind stopping the boat for a minute.”

    “How am _I_ to stop it?” said the Sheep. “If you leave off rowing,
    it’ll stop of itself.”

    So the boat was left to drift down the stream as it would, till it
    glided gently in among the waving rushes. And then the little sleeves
    were carefully rolled up, and the little arms were plunged in
    elbow-deep to get the rushes a good long way down before breaking them
    off—and for a while Alice forgot all about the Sheep and the knitting,
    as she bent over the side of the boat, with just the ends of her
    tangled hair dipping into the water—while with bright eager eyes she
    caught at one bunch after another of the darling scented rushes.

    “I only hope the boat won’t tipple over!” she said to herself. “Oh,
    _what_ a lovely one! Only I couldn’t quite reach it.” And it certainly
    _did_ seem a little provoking (“almost as if it happened on purpose,”
    she thought) that, though she managed to pick plenty of beautiful
    rushes as the boat glided by, there was always a more lovely one that
    she couldn’t reach.

    “The prettiest are always further!” she said at last, with a sigh at
    the obstinacy of the rushes in growing so far off, as, with flushed
    cheeks and dripping hair and hands, she scrambled back into her place,
    and began to arrange her new-found treasures.

    What mattered it to her just then that the rushes had begun to fade,
    and to lose all their scent and beauty, from the very moment that she
    picked them? Even real scented rushes, you know, last only a very
    little while—and these, being dream-rushes, melted away almost like
    snow, as they lay in heaps at her feet—but Alice hardly noticed this,
    there were so many other curious things to think about.

    They hadn’t gone much farther before the blade of one of the oars got
    fast in the water and _wouldn’t_ come out again (so Alice explained it
    afterwards), and the consequence was that the handle of it caught her
    under the chin, and, in spite of a series of little shrieks of “Oh, oh,
    oh!” from poor Alice, it swept her straight off the seat, and down
    among the heap of rushes.

    However, she wasn’t hurt, and was soon up again: the Sheep went on with
    her knitting all the while, just as if nothing had happened. “That was
    a nice crab you caught!” she remarked, as Alice got back into her
    place, very much relieved to find herself still in the boat.

    “Was it? I didn’t see it,” Said Alice, peeping cautiously over the side
    of the boat into the dark water. “I wish it hadn’t let go—I should so
    like to see a little crab to take home with me!” But the Sheep only
    laughed scornfully, and went on with her knitting.

    “Are there many crabs here?” said Alice.

    “Crabs, and all sorts of things,” said the Sheep: “plenty of choice,
    only make up your mind. Now, what _do_ you want to buy?”

    “To buy!” Alice echoed in a tone that was half astonished and half
    frightened—for the oars, and the boat, and the river, had vanished all
    in a moment, and she was back again in the little dark shop.

    “I should like to buy an egg, please,” she said timidly. “How do you
    sell them?”

    “Fivepence farthing for one—Twopence for two,” the Sheep replied.

    “Then two are cheaper than one?” Alice said in a surprised tone, taking
    out her purse.

    “Only you _must_ eat them both, if you buy two,” said the Sheep.

    “Then I’ll have _one_, please,” said Alice, as she put the money down
    on the counter. For she thought to herself, “They mightn’t be at all
    nice, you know.”

    The Sheep took the money, and put it away in a box: then she said “I
    never put things into people’s hands—that would never do—you must get
    it for yourself.” And so saying, she went off to the other end of the
    shop, and set the egg upright on a shelf.

    “I wonder _why_ it wouldn’t do?” thought Alice, as she groped her way
    among the tables and chairs, for the shop was very dark towards the
    end. “The egg seems to get further away the more I walk towards it. Let
    me see, is this a chair? Why, it’s got branches, I declare! How very
    odd to find trees growing here! And actually here’s a little brook!
    Well, this is the very queerest shop I ever saw!”

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    So she went on, wondering more and more at every step, as everything
    turned into a tree the moment she came up to it, and she quite expected
    the egg to do the same.

    CHAPTER VI.
    Humpty Dumpty

    However, the egg only got larger and larger, and more and more human:
    when she had come within a few yards of it, she saw that it had eyes
    and a nose and mouth; and when she had come close to it, she saw
    clearly that it was HUMPTY DUMPTY himself. “It can’t be anybody else!”
    she said to herself. “I’m as certain of it, as if his name were written
    all over his face.”

    It might have been written a hundred times, easily, on that enormous
    face. Humpty Dumpty was sitting with his legs crossed, like a Turk, on
    the top of a high wall—such a narrow one that Alice quite wondered how
    he could keep his balance—and, as his eyes were steadily fixed in the
    opposite direction, and he didn’t take the least notice of her, she
    thought he must be a stuffed figure after all.

    “And how exactly like an egg he is!” she said aloud, standing with her
    hands ready to catch him, for she was every moment expecting him to
    fall.

    “It’s _very_ provoking,” Humpty Dumpty said after a long silence,
    looking away from Alice as he spoke, “to be called an egg—_Very!_”

    “I said you _looked_ like an egg, Sir,” Alice gently explained. “And
    some eggs are very pretty, you know” she added, hoping to turn her
    remark into a sort of a compliment.

    “Some people,” said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as usual,
    “have no more sense than a baby!”

    Alice didn’t know what to say to this: it wasn’t at all like
    conversation, she thought, as he never said anything to _her_; in fact,
    his last remark was evidently addressed to a tree—so she stood and
    softly repeated to herself:—

    “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:
    Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
    All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
    Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.”

    “That last line is much too long for the poetry,” she added, almost out
    loud, forgetting that Humpty Dumpty would hear her.

    “Don’t stand there chattering to yourself like that,” Humpty Dumpty
    said, looking at her for the first time, “but tell me your name and
    your business.”

    “My _name_ is Alice, but—”

    “It’s a stupid enough name!” Humpty Dumpty interrupted impatiently.
    “What does it mean?”

    “_Must_ a name mean something?” Alice asked doubtfully.

    “Of course it must,” Humpty Dumpty said with a short laugh: “_my_ name
    means the shape I am—and a good handsome shape it is, too. With a name
    like yours, you might be any shape, almost.”

    “Why do you sit out here all alone?” said Alice, not wishing to begin
    an argument.

    “Why, because there’s nobody with me!” cried Humpty Dumpty. “Did you
    think I didn’t know the answer to _that_? Ask another.”

    “Don’t you think you’d be safer down on the ground?” Alice went on, not
    with any idea of making another riddle, but simply in her good-natured
    anxiety for the queer creature. “That wall is so _very_ narrow!”

    “What tremendously easy riddles you ask!” Humpty Dumpty growled out.
    “Of course I don’t think so! Why, if ever I _did_ fall off—which
    there’s no chance of—but _if_ I did—” Here he pursed his lips and
    looked so solemn and grand that Alice could hardly help laughing. “_If_
    I did fall,” he went on, “_The King has promised me—with his very own
    mouth_—to—to—”

    “To send all his horses and all his men,” Alice interrupted, rather
    unwisely.

    “Now I declare that’s too bad!” Humpty Dumpty cried, breaking into a
    sudden passion. “You’ve been listening at doors—and behind trees—and
    down chimneys—or you couldn’t have known it!”

    “I haven’t, indeed!” Alice said very gently. “It’s in a book.”

    “Ah, well! They may write such things in a _book_,” Humpty Dumpty said
    in a calmer tone. “That’s what you call a History of England, that is.
    Now, take a good look at me! I’m one that has spoken to a King, _I_ am:
    mayhap you’ll never see such another: and to show you I’m not proud,
    you may shake hands with me!” And he grinned almost from ear to ear, as
    he leant forwards (and as nearly as possible fell off the wall in doing
    so) and offered Alice his hand. She watched him a little anxiously as
    she took it. “If he smiled much more, the ends of his mouth might meet
    behind,” she thought: “and then I don’t know what would happen to his
    head! I’m afraid it would come off!”

    “Yes, all his horses and all his men,” Humpty Dumpty went on. “They’d
    pick me up again in a minute, _they_ would! However, this conversation
    is going on a little too fast: let’s go back to the last remark but
    one.”

    “I’m afraid I can’t quite remember it,” Alice said very politely.

    “In that case we start fresh,” said Humpty Dumpty, “and it’s my turn to
    choose a subject—” (“He talks about it just as if it was a game!”
    thought Alice.) “So here’s a question for you. How old did you say you
    were?”

    Alice made a short calculation, and said “Seven years and six months.”

    “Wrong!” Humpty Dumpty exclaimed triumphantly. “You never said a word
    like it!”

    “I though you meant ‘How old _are_ you?’” Alice explained.

    “If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” said Humpty Dumpty.

    Alice didn’t want to begin another argument, so she said nothing.

    “Seven years and six months!” Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully. “An
    uncomfortable sort of age. Now if you’d asked _my_ advice, I’d have
    said ‘Leave off at seven’—but it’s too late now.”

    “I never ask advice about growing,” Alice said indignantly.

    “Too proud?” the other inquired.

    Alice felt even more indignant at this suggestion. “I mean,” she said,
    “that one can’t help growing older.”

    “_One_ can’t, perhaps,” said Humpty Dumpty, “but _two_ can. With proper
    assistance, you might have left off at seven.”

    “What a beautiful belt you’ve got on!” Alice suddenly remarked.

    (They had had quite enough of the subject of age, she thought: and if
    they really were to take turns in choosing subjects, it was her turn
    now.) “At least,” she corrected herself on second thoughts, “a
    beautiful cravat, I should have said—no, a belt, I mean—I beg your
    pardon!” she added in dismay, for Humpty Dumpty looked thoroughly
    offended, and she began to wish she hadn’t chosen that subject. “If I
    only knew,” she thought to herself, “which was neck and which was
    waist!”

    Evidently Humpty Dumpty was very angry, though he said nothing for a
    minute or two. When he _did_ speak again, it was in a deep growl.

    “It is a—_most—provoking_—thing,” he said at last, “when a person
    doesn’t know a cravat from a belt!”

    “I know it’s very ignorant of me,” Alice said, in so humble a tone that
    Humpty Dumpty relented.

    “It’s a cravat, child, and a beautiful one, as you say. It’s a present
    from the White King and Queen. There now!”

    “Is it really?” said Alice, quite pleased to find that she _had_ chosen
    a good subject, after all.

    “They gave it me,” Humpty Dumpty continued thoughtfully, as he crossed
    one knee over the other and clasped his hands round it, “they gave it
    me—for an un-birthday present.”

    “I beg your pardon?” Alice said with a puzzled air.

    “I’m not offended,” said Humpty Dumpty.

    “I mean, what _is_ an un-birthday present?”

    “A present given when it isn’t your birthday, of course.”

    Alice considered a little. “I like birthday presents best,” she said at
    last.

    “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” cried Humpty Dumpty. “How
    many days are there in a year?”

    “Three hundred and sixty-five,” said Alice.

    “And how many birthdays have you?”

    “One.”

    “And if you take one from three hundred and sixty-five, what remains?”

    “Three hundred and sixty-four, of course.”

    Humpty Dumpty looked doubtful. “I’d rather see that done on paper,” he
    said.

    Alice couldn’t help smiling as she took out her memorandum-book, and
    worked the sum for him:

    365
    1
    ____
    364
    ___

    Humpty Dumpty took the book, and looked at it carefully. “That seems to
    be done right—” he began.

    “You’re holding it upside down!” Alice interrupted.

    “To be sure I was!” Humpty Dumpty said gaily, as she turned it round
    for him. “I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that
    _seems_ to be done right—though I haven’t time to look it over
    thoroughly just now—and that shows that there are three hundred and
    sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents—”

    “Certainly,” said Alice.

    “And only _one_ for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for
    you!”

    “I don’t know what you mean by ‘glory,’” Alice said.

    Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. “Of course you don’t—till I tell
    you. I meant ‘there’s a nice knock-down argument for you!’”

    “But ‘glory’ doesn’t mean ‘a nice knock-down argument,’” Alice
    objected.

    “When _I_ use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone,
    “it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”

    “The question is,” said Alice, “whether you _can_ make words mean so
    many different things.”

    “The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master—that’s
    all.”

    Alice was too much puzzled to say anything, so after a minute Humpty
    Dumpty began again. “They’ve a temper, some of them—particularly verbs,
    they’re the proudest—adjectives you can do anything with, but not
    verbs—however, _I_ can manage the whole lot of them! Impenetrability!
    That’s what _I_ say!”

    “Would you tell me, please,” said Alice “what that means?”

    “Now you talk like a reasonable child,” said Humpty Dumpty, looking
    very much pleased. “I meant by ‘impenetrability’ that we’ve had enough
    of that subject, and it would be just as well if you’d mention what you
    mean to do next, as I suppose you don’t mean to stop here all the rest
    of your life.”

    “That’s a great deal to make one word mean,” Alice said in a thoughtful
    tone.

    “When I make a word do a lot of work like that,” said Humpty Dumpty, “I
    always pay it extra.”

    “Oh!” said Alice. She was too much puzzled to make any other remark.

    “Ah, you should see ’em come round me of a Saturday night,” Humpty
    Dumpty went on, wagging his head gravely from side to side: “for to get
    their wages, you know.”

    (Alice didn’t venture to ask what he paid them with; and so you see I
    can’t tell _you_.)

    “You seem very clever at explaining words, Sir,” said Alice. “Would you
    kindly tell me the meaning of the poem called ‘Jabberwocky’?”

    “Let’s hear it,” said Humpty Dumpty. “I can explain all the poems that
    were ever invented—and a good many that haven’t been invented just
    yet.”

    This sounded very hopeful, so Alice repeated the first verse:

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “That’s enough to begin with,” Humpty Dumpty interrupted: “there are
    plenty of hard words there. ‘_Brillig_’ means four o’clock in the
    afternoon—the time when you begin _broiling_ things for dinner.”

    “That’ll do very well,” said Alice: “and ‘_slithy_’?”

    “Well, ‘_slithy_’ means ‘lithe and slimy.’ ‘Lithe’ is the same as
    ‘active.’ You see it’s like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed
    up into one word.”

    “I see it now,” Alice remarked thoughtfully: “and what are ‘_toves_’?”

    “Well, ‘_toves_’ are something like badgers—they’re something like
    lizards—and they’re something like corkscrews.”

    “They must be very curious looking creatures.”

    “They are that,” said Humpty Dumpty: “also they make their nests under
    sun-dials—also they live on cheese.”

    “And what’s the ‘_gyre_’ and to ‘_gimble_’?”

    “To ‘_gyre_’ is to go round and round like a gyroscope. To ‘_gimble_’
    is to make holes like a gimlet.”

    “And ‘_the wabe_’ is the grass-plot round a sun-dial, I suppose?” said
    Alice, surprised at her own ingenuity.

    “Of course it is. It’s called ‘_wabe_,’ you know, because it goes a
    long way before it, and a long way behind it—”

    “And a long way beyond it on each side,” Alice added.

    “Exactly so. Well, then, ‘_mimsy_’ is ‘flimsy and miserable’ (there’s
    another portmanteau for you). And a ‘_borogove_’ is a thin
    shabby-looking bird with its feathers sticking out all round—something
    like a live mop.”

    “And then ‘_mome raths_’?” said Alice. “I’m afraid I’m giving you a
    great deal of trouble.”

    “Well, a ‘_rath_’ is a sort of green pig: but ‘_mome_’ I’m not certain
    about. I think it’s short for ‘from home’—meaning that they’d lost
    their way, you know.”

    “And what does ‘_outgrabe_’ mean?”

    “Well, ‘_outgrabing_’ is something between bellowing and whistling,
    with a kind of sneeze in the middle: however, you’ll hear it done,
    maybe—down in the wood yonder—and when you’ve once heard it you’ll be
    _quite_ content. Who’s been repeating all that hard stuff to you?”

    “I read it in a book,” said Alice. “But I had some poetry repeated to
    me, much easier than that, by—Tweedledee, I think it was.”

    “As to poetry, you know,” said Humpty Dumpty, stretching out one of his
    great hands, “_I_ can repeat poetry as well as other folk, if it comes
    to that—”

    “Oh, it needn’t come to that!” Alice hastily said, hoping to keep him
    from beginning.

    “The piece I’m going to repeat,” he went on without noticing her
    remark, “was written entirely for your amusement.”

    Alice felt that in that case she really _ought_ to listen to it, so she
    sat down, and said “Thank you” rather sadly.

    “In winter, when the fields are white,
    I sing this song for your delight—

    only I don’t sing it,” he added, as an explanation.

    “I see you don’t,” said Alice.

    “If you can _see_ whether I’m singing or not, you’ve sharper eyes than
    most.” Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.

    “In spring, when woods are getting green,
    I’ll try and tell you what I mean.”

    “Thank you very much,” said Alice.

    “In summer, when the days are long,
    Perhaps you’ll understand the song:

    In autumn, when the leaves are brown,
    Take pen and ink, and write it down.”

    “I will, if I can remember it so long,” said Alice.

    “You needn’t go on making remarks like that,” Humpty Dumpty said:
    “they’re not sensible, and they put me out.”

    “I sent a message to the fish:
    I told them ‘This is what I wish.’

    The little fishes of the sea,
    They sent an answer back to me.

    The little fishes’ answer was
    ‘We cannot do it, Sir, because—’”

    “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Alice.

    “It gets easier further on,” Humpty Dumpty replied.

    “I sent to them again to say
    ‘It will be better to obey.’

    The fishes answered with a grin,
    ‘Why, what a temper you are in!’

    I told them once, I told them twice:
    They would not listen to advice.

    I took a kettle large and new,
    Fit for the deed I had to do.

    My heart went hop, my heart went thump;
    I filled the kettle at the pump.

    Then some one came to me and said,
    ‘The little fishes are in bed.’

    I said to him, I said it plain,
    ‘Then you must wake them up again.’

    I said it very loud and clear;
    I went and shouted in his ear.”

    Humpty Dumpty raised his voice almost to a scream as he repeated this
    verse, and Alice thought with a shudder, “I wouldn’t have been the
    messenger for _anything_!”

    “But he was very stiff and proud;
    He said ‘You needn’t shout so loud!’

    And he was very proud and stiff;
    He said ‘I’d go and wake them, if—’

    I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
    I went to wake them up myself.

    And when I found the door was locked,
    I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.

    And when I found the door was shut,
    I tried to turn the handle, but—”

    There was a long pause.

    “Is that all?” Alice timidly asked.

    “That’s all,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Good-bye.”

    This was rather sudden, Alice thought: but, after such a _very_ strong
    hint that she ought to be going, she felt that it would hardly be civil
    to stay. So she got up, and held out her hand. “Good-bye, till we meet
    again!” she said as cheerfully as she could.

    “I shouldn’t know you again if we _did_ meet,” Humpty Dumpty replied in
    a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake; “you’re so
    exactly like other people.”

    “The face is what one goes by, generally,” Alice remarked in a
    thoughtful tone.

    “That’s just what I complain of,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Your face is the
    same as everybody has—the two eyes, so—” (marking their places in the
    air with this thumb) “nose in the middle, mouth under. It’s always the
    same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of the nose, for
    instance—or the mouth at the top—that would be _some_ help.”

    “It wouldn’t look nice,” Alice objected. But Humpty Dumpty only shut
    his eyes and said “Wait till you’ve tried.”

    Alice waited a minute to see if he would speak again, but as he never
    opened his eyes or took any further notice of her, she said “Good-bye!”
    once more, and, getting no answer to this, she quietly walked away: but
    she couldn’t help saying to herself as she went, “Of all the
    unsatisfactory—” (she repeated this aloud, as it was a great comfort to
    have such a long word to say) “of all the unsatisfactory people I
    _ever_ met—” She never finished the sentence, for at this moment a
    heavy crash shook the forest from end to end.

    CHAPTER VII.
    The Lion and the Unicorn

    The next moment soldiers came running through the wood, at first in
    twos and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in such
    crowds that they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got behind a
    tree, for fear of being run over, and watched them go by.

    She thought that in all her life she had never seen soldiers so
    uncertain on their feet: they were always tripping over something or
    other, and whenever one went down, several more always fell over him,
    so that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men.

    Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather better
    than the foot-soldiers: but even _they_ stumbled now and then; and it
    seemed to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled the rider
    fell off instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and Alice was
    very glad to get out of the wood into an open place, where she found
    the White King seated on the ground, busily writing in his
    memorandum-book.

    “I’ve sent them all!” the King cried in a tone of delight, on seeing
    Alice. “Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you came
    through the wood?”

    “Yes, I did,” said Alice: “several thousand, I should think.”

    “Four thousand two hundred and seven, that’s the exact number,” the
    King said, referring to his book. “I couldn’t send all the horses, you
    know, because two of them are wanted in the game. And I haven’t sent
    the two Messengers, either. They’re both gone to the town. Just look
    along the road, and tell me if you can see either of them.”

    “I see nobody on the road,” said Alice.

    “I only wish _I_ had such eyes,” the King remarked in a fretful tone.
    “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it’s as much
    as _I_ can do to see real people, by this light!”

    All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along the
    road, shading her eyes with one hand. “I see somebody now!” she
    exclaimed at last. “But he’s coming very slowly—and what curious
    attitudes he goes into!” (For the messenger kept skipping up and down,
    and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great hands
    spread out like fans on each side.)

    “Not at all,” said the King. “He’s an Anglo-Saxon Messenger—and those
    are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he’s happy. His name
    is Haigha.” (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with “mayor.”)

    “I love my love with an H,” Alice couldn’t help beginning, “because he
    is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him
    with—with—with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name is Haigha, and he
    lives—”

    “He lives on the Hill,” the King remarked simply, without the least
    idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still hesitating
    for the name of a town beginning with H. “The other Messenger’s called
    Hatta. I must have _two_, you know—to come and go. One to come, and one
    to go.”

    “I beg your pardon?” said Alice.

    “It isn’t respectable to beg,” said the King.

    “I only meant that I didn’t understand,” said Alice. “Why one to come
    and one to go?”

    “Didn’t I tell you?” the King repeated impatiently. “I must have
    _two_—to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry.”

    At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was far too much out of breath
    to say a word, and could only wave his hands about, and make the most
    fearful faces at the poor King.

    “This young lady loves you with an H,” the King said, introducing Alice
    in the hope of turning off the Messenger’s attention from himself—but
    it was no use—the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more extraordinary
    every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side to side.

    “You alarm me!” said the King. “I feel faint—Give me a ham sandwich!”

    On which the Messenger, to Alice’s great amusement, opened a bag that
    hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it
    greedily.

    “Another sandwich!” said the King.

    “There’s nothing but hay left now,” the Messenger said, peeping into
    the bag.

    “Hay, then,” the King murmured in a faint whisper.

    Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal. “There’s nothing
    like eating hay when you’re faint,” he remarked to her, as he munched
    away.

    “I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,” Alice
    suggested: “or some sal-volatile.”

    “I didn’t say there was nothing _better_,” the King replied. “I said
    there was nothing _like_ it.” Which Alice did not venture to deny.

    “Who did you pass on the road?” the King went on, holding out his hand
    to the Messenger for some more hay.

    “Nobody,” said the Messenger.

    “Quite right,” said the King: “this young lady saw him too. So of
    course Nobody walks slower than you.”

    “I do my best,” the Messenger said in a sulky tone. “I’m sure nobody
    walks much faster than I do!”

    “He can’t do that,” said the King, “or else he’d have been here first.
    However, now you’ve got your breath, you may tell us what’s happened in
    the town.”

    “I’ll whisper it,” said the Messenger, putting his hands to his mouth
    in the shape of a trumpet, and stooping so as to get close to the
    King’s ear. Alice was sorry for this, as she wanted to hear the news
    too. However, instead of whispering, he simply shouted at the top of
    his voice “They’re at it again!”

    “Do you call _that_ a whisper?” cried the poor King, jumping up and
    shaking himself. “If you do such a thing again, I’ll have you buttered!
    It went through and through my head like an earthquake!”

    “It would have to be a very tiny earthquake!” thought Alice. “Who are
    at it again?” she ventured to ask.

    “Why the Lion and the Unicorn, of course,” said the King.

    “Fighting for the crown?”

    “Yes, to be sure,” said the King: “and the best of the joke is, that
    it’s _my_ crown all the while! Let’s run and see them.” And they
    trotted off, Alice repeating to herself, as she ran, the words of the
    old song:—

    “The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown:
    The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.
    Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown;
    Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town.”

    “Does—the one—that wins—get the crown?” she asked, as well as she
    could, for the run was putting her quite out of breath.

    “Dear me, no!” said the King. “What an idea!”

    “Would you—be good enough,” Alice panted out, after running a little
    further, “to stop a minute—just to get—one’s breath again?”

    “I’m _good_ enough,” the King said, “only I’m not strong enough. You
    see, a minute goes by so fearfully quick. You might as well try to stop
    a Bandersnatch!”

    Alice had no more breath for talking, so they trotted on in silence,
    till they came in sight of a great crowd, in the middle of which the
    Lion and Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud of dust, that
    at first Alice could not make out which was which: but she soon managed
    to distinguish the Unicorn by his horn.

    They placed themselves close to where Hatta, the other messenger, was
    standing watching the fight, with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece
    of bread-and-butter in the other.

    “He’s only just out of prison, and he hadn’t finished his tea when he
    was sent in,” Haigha whispered to Alice: “and they only give them
    oyster-shells in there—so you see he’s very hungry and thirsty. How are
    you, dear child?” he went on, putting his arm affectionately round
    Hatta’s neck.

    Hatta looked round and nodded, and went on with his bread and butter.

    “Were you happy in prison, dear child?” said Haigha.

    Hatta looked round once more, and this time a tear or two trickled down
    his cheek: but not a word would he say.

    “Speak, can’t you!” Haigha cried impatiently. But Hatta only munched
    away, and drank some more tea.

    “Speak, won’t you!” cried the King. “How are they getting on with the
    fight?”

    Hatta made a desperate effort, and swallowed a large piece of
    bread-and-butter. “They’re getting on very well,” he said in a choking
    voice: “each of them has been down about eighty-seven times.”

    “Then I suppose they’ll soon bring the white bread and the brown?”
    Alice ventured to remark.

    “It’s waiting for ’em now,” said Hatta: “this is a bit of it as I’m
    eating.”

    There was a pause in the fight just then, and the Lion and the Unicorn
    sat down, panting, while the King called out “Ten minutes allowed for
    refreshments!” Haigha and Hatta set to work at once, carrying rough
    trays of white and brown bread. Alice took a piece to taste, but it was
    _very_ dry.

    “I don’t think they’ll fight any more to-day,” the King said to Hatta:
    “go and order the drums to begin.” And Hatta went bounding away like a
    grasshopper.

    For a minute or two Alice stood silent, watching him. Suddenly she
    brightened up. “Look, look!” she cried, pointing eagerly. “There’s the
    White Queen running across the country! She came flying out of the wood
    over yonder—How fast those Queens _can_ run!”

    “There’s some enemy after her, no doubt,” the King said, without even
    looking round. “That wood’s full of them.”

    “But aren’t you going to run and help her?” Alice asked, very much
    surprised at his taking it so quietly.

    “No use, no use!” said the King. “She runs so fearfully quick. You
    might as well try to catch a Bandersnatch! But I’ll make a memorandum
    about her, if you like—She’s a dear good creature,” he repeated softly
    to himself, as he opened his memorandum-book. “Do you spell ‘creature’
    with a double ‘e’?”

    At this moment the Unicorn sauntered by them, with his hands in his
    pockets. “I had the best of it this time?” he said to the King, just
    glancing at him as he passed.

    “A little—a little,” the King replied, rather nervously. “You shouldn’t
    have run him through with your horn, you know.”

    “It didn’t hurt him,” the Unicorn said carelessly, and he was going on,
    when his eye happened to fall upon Alice: he turned round rather
    instantly, and stood for some time looking at her with an air of the
    deepest disgust.

    “What—is—this?” he said at last.

    “This is a child!” Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice to
    introduce her, and spreading out both his hands towards her in an
    Anglo-Saxon attitude. “We only found it to-day. It’s as large as life,
    and twice as natural!”

    “I always thought they were fabulous monsters!” said the Unicorn. “Is
    it alive?”

    “It can talk,” said Haigha, solemnly.

    The Unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said “Talk, child.”

    Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: “Do
    you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I
    never saw one alive before!”

    “Well, now that we _have_ seen each other,” said the Unicorn, “if
    you’ll believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Is that a bargain?”

    “Yes, if you like,” said Alice.

    “Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man!” the Unicorn went on, turning
    from her to the King. “None of your brown bread for me!”

    “Certainly—certainly!” the King muttered, and beckoned to Haigha. “Open
    the bag!” he whispered. “Quick! Not that one—that’s full of hay!”

    Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave it to Alice to hold,
    while he got out a dish and carving-knife. How they all came out of it
    Alice couldn’t guess. It was just like a conjuring-trick, she thought.

    The Lion had joined them while this was going on: he looked very tired
    and sleepy, and his eyes were half shut. “What’s this!” he said,
    blinking lazily at Alice, and speaking in a deep hollow tone that
    sounded like the tolling of a great bell.

    “Ah, what _is_ it, now?” the Unicorn cried eagerly. “You’ll never
    guess! _I_ couldn’t.”

    The Lion looked at Alice wearily. “Are you animal—vegetable—or
    mineral?” he said, yawning at every other word.

    “It’s a fabulous monster!” the Unicorn cried out, before Alice could
    reply.

    “Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster,” the Lion said, lying down and
    putting his chin on his paws. “And sit down, both of you,” (to the King
    and the Unicorn): “fair play with the cake, you know!”

    The King was evidently very uncomfortable at having to sit down between
    the two great creatures; but there was no other place for him.

    “What a fight we might have for the crown, _now_!” the Unicorn said,
    looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor King was nearly shaking
    off his head, he trembled so much.

    “I should win easy,” said the Lion.

    “I’m not so sure of that,” said the Unicorn.

    “Why, I beat you all round the town, you chicken!” the Lion replied
    angrily, half getting up as he spoke.

    Here the King interrupted, to prevent the quarrel going on: he was very
    nervous, and his voice quite quivered. “All round the town?” he said.
    “That’s a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or the
    market-place? You get the best view by the old bridge.”

    “I’m sure I don’t know,” the Lion growled out as he lay down again.
    “There was too much dust to see anything. What a time the Monster is,
    cutting up that cake!”

    Alice had seated herself on the bank of a little brook, with the great
    dish on her knees, and was sawing away diligently with the knife. “It’s
    very provoking!” she said, in reply to the Lion (she was getting quite
    used to being called “the Monster”). “I’ve cut several slices already,
    but they always join on again!”

    “You don’t know how to manage Looking-glass cakes,” the Unicorn
    remarked. “Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.”

    This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up, and carried
    the dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as she
    did so. “_Now_ cut it up,” said the Lion, as she returned to her place
    with the empty dish.

    “I say, this isn’t fair!” cried the Unicorn, as Alice sat with the
    knife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. “The Monster has
    given the Lion twice as much as me!”

    “She’s kept none for herself, anyhow,” said the Lion. “Do you like
    plum-cake, Monster?”

    But before Alice could answer him, the drums began.

    Where the noise came from, she couldn’t make out: the air seemed full
    of it, and it rang through and through her head till she felt quite
    deafened. She started to her feet and sprang across the little brook in
    her terror,

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    and had just time to see the Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet,
    with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before she
    dropped to her knees, and put her hands over her ears, vainly trying to
    shut out the dreadful uproar.

    “If _that_ doesn’t ‘drum them out of town,’” she thought to herself,
    “nothing ever will!”

    CHAPTER VIII.
    “It’s my own Invention”

    After a while the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was dead
    silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one
    to be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming
    about the Lion and the Unicorn and those queer Anglo-Saxon Messengers.
    However, there was the great dish still lying at her feet, on which she
    had tried to cut the plum-cake, “So I wasn’t dreaming, after all,” she
    said to herself, “unless—unless we’re all part of the same dream. Only
    I do hope it’s _my_ dream, and not the Red King’s! I don’t like
    belonging to another person’s dream,” she went on in a rather
    complaining tone: “I’ve a great mind to go and wake him, and see what
    happens!”

    At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of
    “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and a Knight dressed in crimson armour came
    galloping down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached
    her, the horse stopped suddenly: “You’re my prisoner!” the Knight
    cried, as he tumbled off his horse.

    Startled as she was, Alice was more frightened for him than for herself
    at the moment, and watched him with some anxiety as he mounted again.
    As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once more “You’re
    my—” but here another voice broke in “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and Alice
    looked round in some surprise for the new enemy.

    This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at Alice’s side, and
    tumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had done: then he got on
    again, and the two Knights sat and looked at each other for some time
    without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some
    bewilderment.

    “She’s _my_ prisoner, you know!” the Red Knight said at last.

    “Yes, but then _I_ came and rescued her!” the White Knight replied.

    “Well, we must fight for her, then,” said the Red Knight, as he took up
    his helmet (which hung from the saddle, and was something the shape of
    a horse’s head), and put it on.

    “You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course?” the White Knight
    remarked, putting on his helmet too.

    “I always do,” said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at each
    other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way
    of the blows.

    “I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,” she said to herself, as
    she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: “one
    Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off
    his horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself—and another Rule
    seems to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if they were
    Punch and Judy—What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a
    whole set of fire-irons falling into the fender! And how quiet the
    horses are! They let them get on and off them just as if they were
    tables!”

    Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that
    they always fell on their heads, and the battle ended with their both
    falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they
    shook hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.

    “It was a glorious victory, wasn’t it?” said the White Knight, as he
    came up panting.

    “I don’t know,” Alice said doubtfully. “I don’t want to be anybody’s
    prisoner. I want to be a Queen.”

    “So you will, when you’ve crossed the next brook,” said the White
    Knight. “I’ll see you safe to the end of the wood—and then I must go
    back, you know. That’s the end of my move.”

    “Thank you very much,” said Alice. “May I help you off with your
    helmet?” It was evidently more than he could manage by himself;
    however, she managed to shake him out of it at last.

    “Now one can breathe more easily,” said the Knight, putting back his
    shaggy hair with both hands, and turning his gentle face and large mild
    eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a strange-looking
    soldier in all her life.

    He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to fit him very badly, and
    he had a queer-shaped little deal box fastened across his shoulder,
    upside-down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with
    great curiosity.

    “I see you’re admiring my little box.” the Knight said in a friendly
    tone. “It’s my own invention—to keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see
    I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can’t get in.”

    “But the things can get _out_,” Alice gently remarked. “Do you know the
    lid’s open?”

    “I didn’t know it,” the Knight said, a shade of vexation passing over
    his face. “Then all the things must have fallen out! And the box is no
    use without them.” He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to
    throw it into the bushes, when a sudden thought seemed to strike him,
    and he hung it carefully on a tree. “Can you guess why I did that?” he
    said to Alice.

    Alice shook her head.

    “In hopes some bees may make a nest in it—then I should get the honey.”

    “But you’ve got a bee-hive—or something like one—fastened to the
    saddle,” said Alice.

    “Yes, it’s a very good bee-hive,” the Knight said in a discontented
    tone, “one of the best kind. But not a single bee has come near it yet.
    And the other thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the bees
    out—or the bees keep the mice out, I don’t know which.”

    “I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for,” said Alice. “It isn’t
    very likely there would be any mice on the horse’s back.”

    “Not very likely, perhaps,” said the Knight: “but if they _do_ come, I
    don’t choose to have them running all about.”

    “You see,” he went on after a pause, “it’s as well to be provided for
    _everything_. That’s the reason the horse has all those anklets round
    his feet.”

    “But what are they for?” Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

    “To guard against the bites of sharks,” the Knight replied. “It’s an
    invention of my own. And now help me on. I’ll go with you to the end of
    the wood—What’s the dish for?”

    “It’s meant for plum-cake,” said Alice.

    “We’d better take it with us,” the Knight said. “It’ll come in handy if
    we find any plum-cake. Help me to get it into this bag.”

    This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag open
    very carefully, because the Knight was so _very_ awkward in putting in
    the dish: the first two or three times that he tried he fell in himself
    instead. “It’s rather a tight fit, you see,” he said, as they got it in
    a last; “There are so many candlesticks in the bag.” And he hung it to
    the saddle, which was already loaded with bunches of carrots, and
    fire-irons, and many other things.

    “I hope you’ve got your hair well fastened on?” he continued, as they
    set off.

    “Only in the usual way,” Alice said, smiling.

    “That’s hardly enough,” he said, anxiously. “You see the wind is so
    _very_ strong here. It’s as strong as soup.”

    “Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off?”
    Alice enquired.

    “Not yet,” said the Knight. “But I’ve got a plan for keeping it from
    _falling_ off.”

    “I should like to hear it, very much.”

    “First you take an upright stick,” said the Knight. “Then you make your
    hair creep up it, like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is
    because it hangs _down_—things never fall _upwards_, you know. It’s a
    plan of my own invention. You may try it if you like.”

    It didn’t sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought, and for a few
    minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now
    and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was _not_ a
    good rider.

    Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off in
    front; and whenever it went on again (which it generally did rather
    suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except
    that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways; and as he
    generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon
    found that it was the best plan not to walk _quite_ close to the horse.

    “I’m afraid you’ve not had much practice in riding,” she ventured to
    say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.

    The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended at the
    remark. “What makes you say that?” he asked, as he scrambled back into
    the saddle, keeping hold of Alice’s hair with one hand, to save himself
    from falling over on the other side.

    “Because people don’t fall off quite so often, when they’ve had much
    practice.”

    “I’ve had plenty of practice,” the Knight said very gravely: “plenty of
    practice!”

    Alice could think of nothing better to say than “Indeed?” but she said
    it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence after
    this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice
    watching anxiously for the next tumble.

    “The great art of riding,” the Knight suddenly began in a loud voice,
    waving his right arm as he spoke, “is to keep—” Here the sentence ended
    as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on the top of
    his head exactly in the path where Alice was walking. She was quite
    frightened this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked him
    up, “I hope no bones are broken?”

    “None to speak of,” the Knight said, as if he didn’t mind breaking two
    or three of them. “The great art of riding, as I was saying, is—to keep
    your balance properly. Like this, you know—”

    He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his arms to show Alice
    what he meant, and this time he fell flat on his back, right under the
    horse’s feet.

    “Plenty of practice!” he went on repeating, all the time that Alice was
    getting him on his feet again. “Plenty of practice!”

    “It’s too ridiculous!” cried Alice, losing all her patience this time.
    “You ought to have a wooden horse on wheels, that you ought!”

    “Does that kind go smoothly?” the Knight asked in a tone of great
    interest, clasping his arms round the horse’s neck as he spoke, just in
    time to save himself from tumbling off again.

    “Much more smoothly than a live horse,” Alice said, with a little
    scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it.

    “I’ll get one,” the Knight said thoughtfully to himself. “One or
    two—several.”

    There was a short silence after this, and then the Knight went on
    again. “I’m a great hand at inventing things. Now, I daresay you
    noticed, that last time you picked me up, that I was looking rather
    thoughtful?”

    “You _were_ a little grave,” said Alice.

    “Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate—would
    you like to hear it?”

    “Very much indeed,” Alice said politely.

    “I’ll tell you how I came to think of it,” said the Knight. “You see, I
    said to myself, ‘The only difficulty is with the feet: the _head_ is
    high enough already.’ Now, first I put my head on the top of the
    gate—then I stand on my head—then the feet are high enough, you
    see—then I’m over, you see.”

    “Yes, I suppose you’d be over when that was done,” Alice said
    thoughtfully: “but don’t you think it would be rather hard?”

    “I haven’t tried it yet,” the Knight said, gravely: “so I can’t tell
    for certain—but I’m afraid it _would_ be a little hard.”

    He looked so vexed at the idea, that Alice changed the subject hastily.
    “What a curious helmet you’ve got!” she said cheerfully. “Is that your
    invention too?”

    The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet, which hung from the
    saddle. “Yes,” he said, “but I’ve invented a better one than that—like
    a sugar loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell off the horse, it
    always touched the ground directly. So I had a _very_ little way to
    fall, you see—But there _was_ the danger of falling _into_ it, to be
    sure. That happened to me once—and the worst of it was, before I could
    get out again, the other White Knight came and put it on. He thought it
    was his own helmet.”

    The knight looked so solemn about it that Alice did not dare to laugh.
    “I’m afraid you must have hurt him,” she said in a trembling voice,
    “being on the top of his head.”

    “I had to kick him, of course,” the Knight said, very seriously. “And
    then he took the helmet off again—but it took hours and hours to get me
    out. I was as fast as—as lightning, you know.”

    “But that’s a different kind of fastness,” Alice objected.

    The Knight shook his head. “It was all kinds of fastness with me, I can
    assure you!” he said. He raised his hands in some excitement as he said
    this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell headlong into a
    deep ditch.

    Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him. She was rather
    startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well, and
    she was afraid that he really _was_ hurt this time. However, though she
    could see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to
    hear that he was talking on in his usual tone. “All kinds of fastness,”
    he repeated: “but it was careless of him to put another man’s helmet
    on—with the man in it, too.”

    “How _can_ you go on talking so quietly, head downwards?” Alice asked,
    as she dragged him out by the feet, and laid him in a heap on the bank.

    The Knight looked surprised at the question. “What does it matter where
    my body happens to be?” he said. “My mind goes on working all the same.
    In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new
    things.”

    “Now the cleverest thing of the sort that I ever did,” he went on after
    a pause, “was inventing a new pudding during the meat-course.”

    “In time to have it cooked for the next course?” said Alice.

    “Well, not the _next_ course,” the Knight said in a slow thoughtful
    tone: “no, certainly not the next _course_.”

    “Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn’t have two
    pudding-courses in one dinner?”

    “Well, not the _next_ day,” the Knight repeated as before: “not the
    next _day_. In fact,” he went on, holding his head down, and his voice
    getting lower and lower, “I don’t believe that pudding ever _was_
    cooked! In fact, I don’t believe that pudding ever _will_ be cooked!
    And yet it was a very clever pudding to invent.”

    “What did you mean it to be made of?” Alice asked, hoping to cheer him
    up, for the poor Knight seemed quite low-spirited about it.

    “It began with blotting paper,” the Knight answered with a groan.

    “That wouldn’t be very nice, I’m afraid—”

    “Not very nice _alone_,” he interrupted, quite eagerly: “but you’ve no
    idea what a difference it makes mixing it with other things—such as
    gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must leave you.” They had just
    come to the end of the wood.

    Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking of the pudding.

    “You are sad,” the Knight said in an anxious tone: “let me sing you a
    song to comfort you.”

    “Is it very long?” Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry
    that day.

    “It’s long,” said the Knight, “but very, _very_ beautiful. Everybody
    that hears me sing it—either it brings the _tears_ into their eyes, or
    else—”

    “Or else what?” said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.

    “Or else it doesn’t, you know. The name of the song is called
    ‘_Haddocks’ Eyes_.’”

    “Oh, that’s the name of the song, is it?” Alice said, trying to feel
    interested.

    “No, you don’t understand,” the Knight said, looking a little vexed.
    “That’s what the name is _called_. The name really _is_ ‘_The Aged Aged
    Man_.’”

    “Then I ought to have said ‘That’s what the _song_ is called’?” Alice
    corrected herself.

    “No, you oughtn’t: that’s quite another thing! The _song_ is called
    ‘_Ways and Means_’: but that’s only what it’s _called_, you know!”

    “Well, what _is_ the song, then?” said Alice, who was by this time
    completely bewildered.

    “I was coming to that,” the Knight said. “The song really _is_
    ‘_A-sitting On A Gate_’: and the tune’s my own invention.”

    So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins fall on its neck:
    then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint smile
    lighting up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music of his
    song, he began.

    Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey Through The
    Looking-Glass, this was the one that she always remembered most
    clearly. Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene back again,
    as if it had been only yesterday—the mild blue eyes and kindly smile of
    the Knight—the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on
    his armour in a blaze of light that quite dazzled her—the horse quietly
    moving about, with the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the
    grass at her feet—and the black shadows of the forest behind—all this
    she took in like a picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she
    leant against a tree, watching the strange pair, and listening, in a
    half dream, to the melancholy music of the song.

    “But the tune _isn’t_ his own invention,” she said to herself: “it’s
    ‘_I give thee all, I can no more_.’” She stood and listened very
    attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

    “I’ll tell thee everything I can;
    There’s little to relate.
    I saw an aged aged man,
    A-sitting on a gate.
    ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said,
    ‘and how is it you live?’
    And his answer trickled through my head
    Like water through a sieve.

    He said ‘I look for butterflies
    That sleep among the wheat:
    I make them into mutton-pies,
    And sell them in the street.
    I sell them unto men,’ he said,
    ‘Who sail on stormy seas;
    And that’s the way I get my bread—
    A trifle, if you please.’

    But I was thinking of a plan
    To dye one’s whiskers green,
    And always use so large a fan
    That they could not be seen.
    So, having no reply to give
    To what the old man said,
    I cried, ‘Come, tell me how you live!’
    And thumped him on the head.

    His accents mild took up the tale:
    He said ‘I go my ways,
    And when I find a mountain-rill,
    I set it in a blaze;
    And thence they make a stuff they call
    Rolands’ Macassar Oil—
    Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
    They give me for my toil.’

    But I was thinking of a way
    To feed oneself on batter,
    And so go on from day to day
    Getting a little fatter.
    I shook him well from side to side,
    Until his face was blue:
    ‘Come, tell me how you live,’ I cried,
    ‘And what it is you do!’

    He said ‘I hunt for haddocks’ eyes
    Among the heather bright,
    And work them into waistcoat-buttons
    In the silent night.
    And these I do not sell for gold
    Or coin of silvery shine
    But for a copper halfpenny,
    And that will purchase nine.

    ‘I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
    Or set limed twigs for crabs;
    I sometimes search the grassy knolls
    For wheels of Hansom-cabs.
    And that’s the way’ (he gave a wink)
    ‘By which I get my wealth—
    And very gladly will I drink
    Your Honour’s noble health.’

    I heard him then, for I had just
    Completed my design
    To keep the Menai bridge from rust
    By boiling it in wine.
    I thanked him much for telling me
    The way he got his wealth,
    But chiefly for his wish that he
    Might drink my noble health.

    And now, if e’er by chance I put
    My fingers into glue
    Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
    Into a left-hand shoe,
    Or if I drop upon my toe
    A very heavy weight,
    I weep, for it reminds me so,
    Of that old man I used to know—
    Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
    Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
    Whose face was very like a crow,
    With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
    Who seemed distracted with his woe,
    Who rocked his body to and fro,
    And muttered mumblingly and low,
    As if his mouth were full of dough,
    Who snorted like a buffalo—
    That summer evening, long ago,
    A-sitting on a gate.”

    As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad, he gathered up the
    reins, and turned his horse’s head along the road by which they had
    come. “You’ve only a few yards to go,” he said, “down the hill and over
    that little brook, and then you’ll be a Queen—But you’ll stay and see
    me off first?” he added as Alice turned with an eager look in the
    direction to which he pointed. “I shan’t be long. You’ll wait and wave
    your handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think it’ll
    encourage me, you see.”

    “Of course I’ll wait,” said Alice: “and thank you very much for coming
    so far—and for the song—I liked it very much.”

    “I hope so,” the Knight said doubtfully: “but you didn’t cry so much as
    I thought you would.”

    So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly away into the
    forest. “It won’t take long to see him _off_, I expect,” Alice said to
    herself, as she stood watching him. “There he goes! Right on his head
    as usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily—that comes of having
    so many things hung round the horse—” So she went on talking to
    herself, as she watched the horse walking leisurely along the road, and
    the Knight tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After
    the fourth or fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her
    handkerchief to him, and waited till he was out of sight.

    “I hope it encouraged him,” she said, as she turned to run down the
    hill: “and now for the last brook, and to be a Queen! How grand it
    sounds!” A very few steps brought her to the edge of the brook. “The
    Eighth Square at last!” she cried as she bounded across,

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little
    flower-beds dotted about it here and there. “Oh, how glad I am to get
    here! And what _is_ this on my head?” she exclaimed in a tone of
    dismay, as she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted
    tight all round her head.

    “But how _can_ it have got there without my knowing it?” she said to
    herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out what
    it could possibly be.

    It was a golden crown.

    CHAPTER IX.
    Queen Alice

    “Well, this _is_ grand!” said Alice. “I never expected I should be a
    Queen so soon—and I’ll tell you what it is, your majesty,” she went on
    in a severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding herself),
    “it’ll never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that!
    Queens have to be dignified, you know!”

    So she got up and walked about—rather stiffly just at first, as she was
    afraid that the crown might come off: but she comforted herself with
    the thought that there was nobody to see her, “and if I really am a
    Queen,” she said as she sat down again, “I shall be able to manage it
    quite well in time.”

    Everything was happening so oddly that she didn’t feel a bit surprised
    at finding the Red Queen and the White Queen sitting close to her, one
    on each side: she would have liked very much to ask them how they came
    there, but she feared it would not be quite civil. However, there would
    be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over. “Please, would
    you tell me—” she began, looking timidly at the Red Queen.

    “Speak when you’re spoken to!” The Queen sharply interrupted her.

    “But if everybody obeyed that rule,” said Alice, who was always ready
    for a little argument, “and if you only spoke when you were spoken to,
    and the other person always waited for _you_ to begin, you see nobody
    would ever say anything, so that—”

    “Ridiculous!” cried the Queen. “Why, don’t you see, child—” here she
    broke off with a frown, and, after thinking for a minute, suddenly
    changed the subject of the conversation. “What do you mean by ‘If you
    really are a Queen’? What right have you to call yourself so? You can’t
    be a Queen, you know, till you’ve passed the proper examination. And
    the sooner we begin it, the better.”

    “I only said ‘if’!” poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone.

    The two Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with a
    little shudder, “She _says_ she only said ‘if’—”

    “But she said a great deal more than that!” the White Queen moaned,
    wringing her hands. “Oh, ever so much more than that!”

    “So you did, you know,” the Red Queen said to Alice. “Always speak the
    truth—think before you speak—and write it down afterwards.”

    “I’m sure I didn’t mean—” Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen
    interrupted her impatiently.

    “That’s just what I complain of! You _should_ have meant! What do you
    suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should
    have some meaning—and a child’s more important than a joke, I hope. You
    couldn’t deny that, even if you tried with both hands.”

    “I don’t deny things with my _hands_,” Alice objected.

    “Nobody said you did,” said the Red Queen. “I said you couldn’t if you
    tried.”

    “She’s in that state of mind,” said the White Queen, “that she wants to
    deny _something_—only she doesn’t know what to deny!”

    “A nasty, vicious temper,” the Red Queen remarked; and then there was
    an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

    The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the White Queen, “I invite
    you to Alice’s dinner-party this afternoon.”

    The White Queen smiled feebly, and said “And I invite _you_.”

    “I didn’t know I was to have a party at all,” said Alice; “but if there
    is to be one, I think _I_ ought to invite the guests.”

    “We gave you the opportunity of doing it,” the Red Queen remarked: “but
    I daresay you’ve not had many lessons in manners yet?”

    “Manners are not taught in lessons,” said Alice. “Lessons teach you to
    do sums, and things of that sort.”

    “And you do Addition?” the White Queen asked. “What’s one and one and
    one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?”

    “I don’t know,” said Alice. “I lost count.”

    “She can’t do Addition,” the Red Queen interrupted. “Can you do
    Subtraction? Take nine from eight.”

    “Nine from eight I can’t, you know,” Alice replied very readily: “but—”

    “She can’t do Subtraction,” said the White Queen. “Can you do Division?
    Divide a loaf by a knife—what’s the answer to that?”

    “I suppose—” Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen answered for her.
    “Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a bone
    from a dog: what remains?”

    Alice considered. “The bone wouldn’t remain, of course, if I took
    it—and the dog wouldn’t remain; it would come to bite me—and I’m sure
    _I_ shouldn’t remain!”

    “Then you think nothing would remain?” said the Red Queen.

    “I think that’s the answer.”

    “Wrong, as usual,” said the Red Queen: “the dog’s temper would remain.”

    “But I don’t see how—”

    “Why, look here!” the Red Queen cried. “The dog would lose its temper,
    wouldn’t it?”

    “Perhaps it would,” Alice replied cautiously.

    “Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!” the Queen
    exclaimed triumphantly.

    Alice said, as gravely as she could, “They might go different ways.”
    But she couldn’t help thinking to herself, “What dreadful nonsense we
    _are_ talking!”

    “She can’t do sums a _bit_!” the Queens said together, with great
    emphasis.

    “Can _you_ do sums?” Alice said, turning suddenly on the White Queen,
    for she didn’t like being found fault with so much.

    The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. “I can do Addition, if you give me
    time—but I can’t do Subtraction, under _any_ circumstances!”

    “Of course you know your A B C?” said the Red Queen.

    “To be sure I do.” said Alice.

    “So do I,” the White Queen whispered: “we’ll often say it over
    together, dear. And I’ll tell you a secret—I can read words of one
    letter! Isn’t _that_ grand! However, don’t be discouraged. You’ll come
    to it in time.”

    Here the Red Queen began again. “Can you answer useful questions?” she
    said. “How is bread made?”

    “I know _that_!” Alice cried eagerly. “You take some flour—”

    “Where do you pick the flower?” the White Queen asked. “In a garden, or
    in the hedges?”

    “Well, it isn’t _picked_ at all,” Alice explained: “it’s _ground_—”

    “How many acres of ground?” said the White Queen. “You mustn’t leave
    out so many things.”

    “Fan her head!” the Red Queen anxiously interrupted. “She’ll be
    feverish after so much thinking.” So they set to work and fanned her
    with bunches of leaves, till she had to beg them to leave off, it blew
    her hair about so.

    “She’s all right again now,” said the Red Queen. “Do you know
    Languages? What’s the French for fiddle-de-dee?”

    “Fiddle-de-dee’s not English,” Alice replied gravely.

    “Who ever said it was?” said the Red Queen.

    Alice thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. “If you’ll
    tell me what language ‘fiddle-de-dee’ is, I’ll tell you the French for
    it!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

    But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said “Queens
    never make bargains.”

    “I wish Queens never asked questions,” Alice thought to herself.

    “Don’t let us quarrel,” the White Queen said in an anxious tone. “What
    is the cause of lightning?”

    “The cause of lightning,” Alice said very decidedly, for she felt quite
    certain about this, “is the thunder—no, no!” she hastily corrected
    herself. “I meant the other way.”

    “It’s too late to correct it,” said the Red Queen: “when you’ve once
    said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.”

    “Which reminds me—” the White Queen said, looking down and nervously
    clasping and unclasping her hands, “we had _such_ a thunderstorm last
    Tuesday—I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know.”

    Alice was puzzled. “In _our_ country,” she remarked, “there’s only one
    day at a time.”

    The Red Queen said, “That’s a poor thin way of doing things. Now
    _here_, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, and
    sometimes in the winter we take as many as five nights together—for
    warmth, you know.”

    “Are five nights warmer than one night, then?” Alice ventured to ask.

    “Five times as warm, of course.”

    “But they should be five times as _cold_, by the same rule—”

    “Just so!” cried the Red Queen. “Five times as warm, _and_ five times
    as cold—just as I’m five times as rich as you are, _and_ five times as
    clever!”

    Alice sighed and gave it up. “It’s exactly like a riddle with no
    answer!” she thought.

    “Humpty Dumpty saw it too,” the White Queen went on in a low voice,
    more as if she were talking to herself. “He came to the door with a
    corkscrew in his hand—”

    “What did he want?” said the Red Queen.

    “He said he _would_ come in,” the White Queen went on, “because he was
    looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn’t such a
    thing in the house, that morning.”

    “Is there generally?” Alice asked in an astonished tone.

    “Well, only on Thursdays,” said the Queen.

    “I know what he came for,” said Alice: “he wanted to punish the fish,
    because—”

    Here the White Queen began again. “It was _such_ a thunderstorm, you
    can’t think!” (“She _never_ could, you know,” said the Red Queen.) “And
    part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in—and it went
    rolling round the room in great lumps—and knocking over the tables and
    things—till I was so frightened, I couldn’t remember my own name!”

    Alice thought to herself, “I never should _try_ to remember my name in
    the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it?” but she did
    not say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen’s feeling.

    “Your Majesty must excuse her,” the Red Queen said to Alice, taking one
    of the White Queen’s hands in her own, and gently stroking it: “she
    means well, but she can’t help saying foolish things, as a general
    rule.”

    The White Queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she _ought_ to say
    something kind, but really couldn’t think of anything at the moment.

    “She never was really well brought up,” the Red Queen went on: “but
    it’s amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the head, and see how
    pleased she’ll be!” But this was more than Alice had courage to do.

    “A little kindness—and putting her hair in papers—would do wonders with
    her—”

    The White Queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on Alice’s
    shoulder. “I _am_ so sleepy!” she moaned.

    “She’s tired, poor thing!” said the Red Queen. “Smooth her hair—lend
    her your nightcap—and sing her a soothing lullaby.”

    “I haven’t got a nightcap with me,” said Alice, as she tried to obey
    the first direction: “and I don’t know any soothing lullabies.”

    “I must do it myself, then,” said the Red Queen, and she began:

    “Hush-a-by lady, in Alice’s lap!
    Till the feast’s ready, we’ve time for a nap:
    When the feast’s over, we’ll go to the ball—
    Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!

    “And now you know the words,” she added, as she put her head down on
    Alice’s other shoulder, “just sing it through to _me_. I’m getting
    sleepy, too.” In another moment both Queens were fast asleep, and
    snoring loud.

    “What _am_ I to do?” exclaimed Alice, looking about in great
    perplexity, as first one round head, and then the other, rolled down
    from her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. “I don’t think
    it _ever_ happened before, that any one had to take care of two Queens
    asleep at once! No, not in all the History of England—it couldn’t, you
    know, because there never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wake
    up, you heavy things!” she went on in an impatient tone; but there was
    no answer but a gentle snoring.

    The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more like a
    tune: at last she could even make out the words, and she listened so
    eagerly that, when the two great heads vanished from her lap, she
    hardly missed them.

    She was standing before an arched doorway over which were the words
    QUEEN ALICE in large letters, and on each side of the arch there was a
    bell-handle; one was marked “Visitors’ Bell,” and the other “Servants’
    Bell.”

    “I’ll wait till the song’s over,” thought Alice, “and then I’ll
    ring—the—_which_ bell must I ring?” she went on, very much puzzled by
    the names. “I’m not a visitor, and I’m not a servant. There _ought_ to
    be one marked ‘Queen,’ you know—”

    Just then the door opened a little way, and a creature with a long beak
    put its head out for a moment and said “No admittance till the week
    after next!” and shut the door again with a bang.

    Alice knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last, a very old
    Frog, who was sitting under a tree, got up and hobbled slowly towards
    her: he was dressed in bright yellow, and had enormous boots on.

    “What is it, now?” the Frog said in a deep hoarse whisper.

    Alice turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. “Where’s the
    servant whose business it is to answer the door?” she began angrily.

    “Which door?” said the Frog.

    Alice almost stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which he
    spoke. “_This_ door, of course!”

    The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute: then
    he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as if he were trying
    whether the paint would come off; then he looked at Alice.

    “To answer the door?” he said. “What’s it been asking of?” He was so
    hoarse that Alice could scarcely hear him.

    “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

    “I talks English, doesn’t I?” the Frog went on. “Or are you deaf? What
    did it ask you?”

    “Nothing!” Alice said impatiently. “I’ve been knocking at it!”

    “Shouldn’t do that—shouldn’t do that—” the Frog muttered. “Vexes it,
    you know.” Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one of his
    great feet. “You let _it_ alone,” he panted out, as he hobbled back to
    his tree, “and it’ll let _you_ alone, you know.”

    At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard
    singing:

    “To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said,
    ‘I’ve a sceptre in hand, I’ve a crown on my head;
    Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be,
    Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me.’”

    And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

    “Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
    And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
    Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea—
    And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!”

    Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to
    herself, “Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one’s
    counting?” In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill
    voice sang another verse;

    “‘O Looking-Glass creatures,’ quoth Alice, ‘draw near!
    ’Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
    ’Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
    Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!’”

    Then came the chorus again:—

    “Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
    Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
    Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine—
    And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!”

    “Ninety times nine!” Alice repeated in despair, “Oh, that’ll never be
    done! I’d better go in at once—” and there was a dead silence the
    moment she appeared.

    Alice glanced nervously along the table, as she walked up the large
    hall, and noticed that there were about fifty guests, of all kinds:
    some were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among
    them. “I’m glad they’ve come without waiting to be asked,” she thought:
    “I should never have known who were the right people to invite!”

    There were three chairs at the head of the table; the Red and White
    Queens had already taken two of them, but the middle one was empty.
    Alice sat down in it, rather uncomfortable in the silence, and longing
    for some one to speak.

    At last the Red Queen began. “You’ve missed the soup and fish,” she
    said. “Put on the joint!” And the waiters set a leg of mutton before
    Alice, who looked at it rather anxiously, as she had never had to carve
    a joint before.

    “You look a little shy; let me introduce you to that leg of mutton,”
    said the Red Queen. “Alice—Mutton; Mutton—Alice.” The leg of mutton got
    up in the dish and made a little bow to Alice; and Alice returned the
    bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.

    “May I give you a slice?” she said, taking up the knife and fork, and
    looking from one Queen to the other.

    “Certainly not,” the Red Queen said, very decidedly: “it isn’t
    etiquette to cut any one you’ve been introduced to. Remove the joint!”
    And the waiters carried it off, and brought a large plum-pudding in its
    place.

    “I won’t be introduced to the pudding, please,” Alice said rather
    hastily, “or we shall get no dinner at all. May I give you some?”

    But the Red Queen looked sulky, and growled “Pudding—Alice;
    Alice—Pudding. Remove the pudding!” and the waiters took it away so
    quickly that Alice couldn’t return its bow.

    However, she didn’t see why the Red Queen should be the only one to
    give orders, so, as an experiment, she called out “Waiter! Bring back
    the pudding!” and there it was again in a moment like a
    conjuring-trick. It was so large that she couldn’t help feeling a
    _little_ shy with it, as she had been with the mutton; however, she
    conquered her shyness by a great effort and cut a slice and handed it
    to the Red Queen.

    “What impertinence!” said the Pudding. “I wonder how you’d like it, if
    I were to cut a slice out of _you_, you creature!”

    It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Alice hadn’t a word to
    say in reply: she could only sit and look at it and gasp.

    “Make a remark,” said the Red Queen: “it’s ridiculous to leave all the
    conversation to the pudding!”

    “Do you know, I’ve had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me
    to-day,” Alice began, a little frightened at finding that, the moment
    she opened her lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixed
    upon her; “and it’s a very curious thing, I think—every poem was about
    fishes in some way. Do you know why they’re so fond of fishes, all
    about here?”

    She spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the mark.
    “As to fishes,” she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her mouth
    close to Alice’s ear, “her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle—all in
    poetry—all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?”

    “Her Red Majesty’s very kind to mention it,” the White Queen murmured
    into Alice’s other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. “It
    would be _such_ a treat! May I?”

    “Please do,” Alice said very politely.

    The White Queen laughed with delight, and stroked Alice’s cheek. Then
    she began:

    “‘First, the fish must be caught.’
    That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
    ‘Next, the fish must be bought.’
    That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.

    ‘Now cook me the fish!’
    That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
    ‘Let it lie in a dish!’
    That is easy, because it already is in it.

    ‘Bring it here! Let me sup!’
    It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
    ‘Take the dish-cover up!’
    Ah, that is so hard that I fear I’m unable!

    For it holds it like glue—
    Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
    Which is easiest to do,
    Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle?”

    “Take a minute to think about it, and then guess,” said the Red Queen.
    “Meanwhile, we’ll drink your health—Queen Alice’s health!” she screamed
    at the top of her voice, and all the guests began drinking it directly,
    and very queerly they managed it: some of them put their glasses upon
    their heads like extinguishers, and drank all that trickled down their
    faces—others upset the decanters, and drank the wine as it ran off the
    edges of the table—and three of them (who looked like kangaroos)
    scrambled into the dish of roast mutton, and began eagerly lapping up
    the gravy, “just like pigs in a trough!” thought Alice.

    “You ought to return thanks in a neat speech,” the Red Queen said,
    frowning at Alice as she spoke.

    “We must support you, you know,” the White Queen whispered, as Alice
    got up to do it, very obediently, but a little frightened.

    “Thank you very much,” she whispered in reply, “but I can do quite well
    without.”

    “That wouldn’t be at all the thing,” the Red Queen said very decidedly:
    so Alice tried to submit to it with a good grace.

    (“And they _did_ push so!” she said afterwards, when she was telling
    her sister the history of the feast. “You would have thought they
    wanted to squeeze me flat!”)

    In fact it was rather difficult for her to keep in her place while she
    made her speech: the two Queens pushed her so, one on each side, that
    they nearly lifted her up into the air: “I rise to return thanks—”
    Alice began: and she really _did_ rise as she spoke, several inches;
    but she got hold of the edge of the table, and managed to pull herself
    down again.

    “Take care of yourself!” screamed the White Queen, seizing Alice’s hair
    with both her hands. “Something’s going to happen!”

    And then (as Alice afterwards described it) all sorts of things
    happened in a moment. The candles all grew up to the ceiling, looking
    something like a bed of rushes with fireworks at the top. As to the
    bottles, they each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on
    as wings, and so, with forks for legs, went fluttering about in all
    directions: “and very like birds they look,” Alice thought to herself,
    as well as she could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning.

    At this moment she heard a hoarse laugh at her side, and turned to see
    what was the matter with the White Queen; but, instead of the Queen,
    there was the leg of mutton sitting in the chair. “Here I am!” cried a
    voice from the soup tureen, and Alice turned again, just in time to see
    the Queen’s broad good-natured face grinning at her for a moment over
    the edge of the tureen, before she disappeared into the soup.

    There was not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were
    lying down in the dishes, and the soup ladle was walking up the table
    towards Alice’s chair, and beckoning to her impatiently to get out of
    its way.

    “I can’t stand this any longer!” she cried as she jumped up and seized
    the table-cloth with both hands: one good pull, and plates, dishes,
    guests, and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the floor.

    “And as for _you_,” she went on, turning fiercely upon the Red Queen,
    whom she considered as the cause of all the mischief—but the Queen was
    no longer at her side—she had suddenly dwindled down to the size of a
    little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running round and round
    after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.

    At any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she was
    far too much excited to be surprised at anything _now_. “As for _you_,”
    she repeated, catching hold of the little creature in the very act of
    jumping over a bottle which had just lighted upon the table, “I’ll
    shake you into a kitten, that I will!”

    CHAPTER X.
    Shaking

    She took her off the table as she spoke, and shook her backwards and
    forwards with all her might.

    The Red Queen made no resistance whatever; only her face grew very
    small, and her eyes got large and green: and still, as Alice went on
    shaking her, she kept on growing shorter—and fatter—and softer—and
    rounder—and—

    CHAPTER XI.
    Waking

    —and it really _was_ a kitten, after all.

    CHAPTER XII.
    Which Dreamed it?

    “Your majesty shouldn’t purr so loud,” Alice said, rubbing her eyes,
    and addressing the kitten, respectfully, yet with some severity. “You
    woke me out of oh! such a nice dream! And you’ve been along with me,
    Kitty—all through the Looking-Glass world. Did you know it, dear?”

    It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the
    remark) that, whatever you say to them, they _always_ purr. “If they
    would only purr for ‘yes’ and mew for ‘no,’ or any rule of that sort,”
    she had said, “so that one could keep up a conversation! But how _can_
    you talk with a person if they always say the same thing?”

    On this occasion the kitten only purred: and it was impossible to guess
    whether it meant “yes” or “no.”

    So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till she had found the
    Red Queen: then she went down on her knees on the hearth-rug, and put
    the kitten and the Queen to look at each other. “Now, Kitty!” she
    cried, clapping her hands triumphantly. “Confess that was what you
    turned into!”

    (“But it wouldn’t look at it,” she said, when she was explaining the
    thing afterwards to her sister: “it turned away its head, and pretended
    not to see it: but it looked a _little_ ashamed of itself, so I think
    it _must_ have been the Red Queen.”)

    “Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!” Alice cried with a merry laugh.
    “And curtsey while you’re thinking what to—what to purr. It saves time,
    remember!” And she caught it up and gave it one little kiss, “just in
    honour of having been a Red Queen.”

    “Snowdrop, my pet!” she went on, looking over her shoulder at the White
    Kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, “when _will_
    Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That must be the
    reason you were so untidy in my dream—Dinah! do you know that you’re
    scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it’s most disrespectful of you!

    “And what did _Dinah_ turn to, I wonder?” she prattled on, as she
    settled comfortably down, with one elbow in the rug, and her chin in
    her hand, to watch the kittens. “Tell me, Dinah, did you turn to Humpty
    Dumpty? I _think_ you did—however, you’d better not mention it to your
    friends just yet, for I’m not sure.

    “By the way, Kitty, if only you’d been really with me in my dream,
    there was one thing you _would_ have enjoyed—I had such a quantity of
    poetry said to me, all about fishes! To-morrow morning you shall have a
    real treat. All the time you’re eating your breakfast, I’ll repeat ‘The
    Walrus and the Carpenter’ to you; and then you can make believe it’s
    oysters, dear!

    “Now, Kitty, let’s consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a
    serious question, my dear, and you should _not_ go on licking your paw
    like that—as if Dinah hadn’t washed you this morning! You see, Kitty,
    it _must_ have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream,
    of course—but then I was part of his dream, too! _Was_ it the Red King,
    Kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know—Oh, Kitty, _do_
    help to settle it! I’m sure your paw can wait!” But the provoking
    kitten only began on the other paw, and pretended it hadn’t heard the
    question.

    Which do _you_ think it was?

    A boat beneath a sunny sky,
    Lingering onward dreamily
    In an evening of July—

    Children three that nestle near,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Pleased a simple tale to hear—

    Long has paled that sunny sky:
    Echoes fade and memories die.
    Autumn frosts have slain July.

    Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
    Alice moving under skies
    Never seen by waking eyes.

    Children yet, the tale to hear,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Lovingly shall nestle near.

    In a Wonderland they lie,
    Dreaming as the days go by,
    Dreaming as the summers die:

    Ever drifting down the stream—
    Lingering in the golden gleam—
    Life, what is it but a dream?

    THE END

    ]]>
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    Three hundred Aesop’s fables https://blog.mabo.cc/three-hundred-aesops-fables/ https://blog.mabo.cc/three-hundred-aesops-fables/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:59 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/three-hundred-aesops-fables/

    Three hundred Aesop’s fables

    Aproximadamente 45.066 palavras.

    THREE HUNDRED
    ÆSOP’S FABLES

    LITERALLY TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK

    By the
    Rev. George Fyler Townsend, M.A.

    LONDON
    GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS

    THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE
    NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET

    CONTENTS

    PREFACE
    LIFE OF AESOP
    AESOP’S FABLES
    The Lion And The Mouse
    The Wolf And The Lamb
    The Ass And The Grasshopper
    The Wolf and the Crane
    The Father And His Sons
    The Bat And The Weasels
    The Cock and the Jewel
    The Swallow and the Crow
    The Kingdom of the Lion
    The Traveler and His Dog
    The Ants and the Grasshopper
    The Hare and the Tortoise
    The Charcoal-Burner And The Fuller
    The Boy Hunting Locusts
    The Fisherman Piping
    The Dog and the Shadow
    Hercules and the Wagoner
    The Mole and His Mother
    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull
    The Fawn and His Mother
    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion
    The Flies and the Honey-Pot
    The Lioness
    The Farmer and the Snake
    The Man and the Lion
    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble
    The Farmer and the Stork
    The Mountain in Labor
    The Bear and the Fox
    The Tortoise and the Eagle
    The Fox and the Goat
    The Raven and the Swan
    The Thirsty Pigeon
    The Dog in the Manger
    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees
    The Farmer and the Cranes
    The Sick Lion
    The Bear and the Two Travelers
    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail
    The Cat and the Cock
    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
    The Goat and the Goatherd
    The Boasting Traveler
    The Lion in Love
    The Miser
    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat
    The Boy and the Filberts
    The Frogs Asking for a King
    The Laborer and the Snake
    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox
    The Horse and Groom
    The Ass and the Mule
    The Ass and the Lapdog
    The Oxen and the Butchers
    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf
    The Boys and the Frogs
    The Salt Merchant and His Ass
    The Mischievous Dog
    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats
    The Man and His Two Sweethearts
    The Sick Stag
    The Boy and the Nettles
    The Astronomer
    The Wolves and the Sheep
    The Cat and the Birds
    The Vain Jackdaw
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Old Woman and the Physician
    The Ox and the Frog
    The Farmer and His Sons
    The Heifer and the Ox
    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle
    The Charger and the Miller
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Horse and His Rider
    The Belly and the Members
    The Widow and Her Little Maidens
    The Vine and the Goat
    Jupiter and the Monkey
    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons
    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat
    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice
    The Two Pots
    The Shepherd and the Wolf
    The Crab and Its Mother
    The Father and His Two Daughters
    The Thief and His Mother
    The Old Man and Death
    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble
    The Æthiop
    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk
    The Fisherman and His Nets
    The Wolf and the Sheep
    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar
    The Man Bitten by a Dog
    The Huntsman and the Fisherman
    The Fox and the Crow
    The Widow and the Sheep
    The Playful Ass
    The Stag in the Ox-Stall
    The Two Dogs
    The Wild Ass and the Lion
    The Lion and the Dolphin
    The Eagle and the Arrow
    The Sick Kite
    The Lion and the Boar
    The Mice in Council
    The One-Eyed Doe
    The Mice and the Weasels
    The Shepherd and the Sea
    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion
    The Rivers and the Sea
    The Wild Boar and the Fox
    The Milk-Woman and Her Pail
    The Bee and Jupiter
    The Wolf and the Housedog
    The Three Tradesmen
    The Ass Carrying the Image
    The Master and His Dogs
    The Old Hound
    The Two Travelers and the Axe
    The Old Lion
    The Wolf and the Shepherds
    The Seaside Travelers
    The Ass and His Shadow
    The Ass and His Masters
    Mercury and the Sculptor
    The Fox and the Woodcutter
    The Oak and the Reeds
    The Lion in a Farmyard
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock
    The Ant and the Dove
    The Hares and the Frogs
    The Monkey and the Fishermen
    The Swan and the Goose
    The Doe and the Lion
    The Fisherman and the Little Fish
    The Hunter and the Woodman
    The Swollen Fox
    The Two Frogs
    The Lamp
    The Camel and the Arab
    The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass
    The Cat and the Mice
    The Mouse and the Bull
    The Dog and the Cook
    The Thieves and the Cock
    The Dancing Monkeys
    The Farmer and the Fox
    The Traveler and Fortune
    The Seagull and the Kite
    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox
    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury
    The Peasant and the Eagle
    The Fox and the Leopard
    The Lion and the Hare
    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter
    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass
    The Bull and the Goat
    The Bald Knight
    The Oaks and Jupiter
    The Monkeys and Their Mother
    The Hare and the Hound
    The Shepherd and the Dog
    The Oak and the Woodcutters
    The Wasp and the Snake
    The Peacock and the Crane
    The Hen and the Golden Eggs
    The Ass and the Frogs
    The Crow and the Raven
    The Trees and the Axe
    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs
    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter
    The Bowman and Lion
    The Camel
    The Crab and the Fox
    The Ass and the Old Shepherd
    The Fox and the Hedgehog
    The Woman and Her Hen
    The Kites and the Swans
    The Dog and the Hare
    The Hares and the Foxes
    The Bull and the Calf
    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep
    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow
    The Wolf and the Fox
    The Mule
    The Prophet
    The Two Frogs
    The Serpent and the Eagle
    The Crow and the Pitcher
    The Thief and the Innkeeper
    The Hart and the Vine
    The Gnat and the Lion
    The Fox and the Grapes
    The Walnut-Tree
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Monkey and the Dolphin
    The Horse and the Stag
    The Jackdaw and the Doves
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Man and His Wife
    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog
    The Thief and the Housedog
    The Apes and the Two Travelers
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Weasel and the Mice
    The Boy Bathing
    The Peacock and Juno
    The Wolf and the Shepherd
    The Hares and the Lions
    The Seller of Images
    The Hawk and the Nightingale
    The Lark and Her Young Ones
    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox
    The Geese and the Cranes
    The Ass and the Wolf
    The Goat and the Ass
    The Lion and the Bull
    The Fox and the Mask
    The Grasshopper and the Owl
    The Fowler and the Viper
    The Horse and the Ass
    The Lion and the Three Bulls
    The Wolf and the Goat
    The Fly and the Draught-Mule
    The Fishermen
    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse
    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape
    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer
    The Brother and the Sister
    The Dogs and the Fox
    The Blind Man and the Whelp
    The Cobbler Turned Doctor
    The Wolf and the Horse
    The Two Men Who Were Enemies
    The Gamecocks and the Partridge
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Quack Frog
    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox
    The Dog’s House
    The North Wind and the Sun
    The Crow and Mercury
    The Fox and the Crane
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat
    The Spendthrift and the Swallow
    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner
    The Owl and the Birds
    The Goods and the Ills
    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin
    The Sparrow and the Hare
    The Flea and the Ox
    The Ass and His Purchaser
    The Dove and the Crow
    The Man and the Satyr
    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus
    The Eagle and the Jackdaw
    The Eagle and the Fox
    The Two Bags
    The Bitch and Her Whelps
    The Stag at the Pool
    The Lark Burying Her Father
    The Gnat and the Bull
    The Monkey and the Camel
    The Dogs and the Hides
    The Jackdaw and the Fox
    Mercury and the Workmen
    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree
    The Two Soldiers and the Robber
    The Shepherd and the Sheep
    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods
    The Flea and the Wrestler
    The Lion and the Fox
    Truth and the Traveler
    The Manslayer
    The Lion and the Eagle
    The Ass and His Driver
    The Thrush and the Fowler
    The Mother and the Wolf
    The Hen and the Swallow
    The Rose and the Amaranth
    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree
    The Ass and the Horse
    The Crow and the Sheep
    The Fox and the Bramble
    The Ass and the Charger
    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant
    The Dog and the Oyster
    The Mules and the Robbers
    The Lamb and the Wolf
    The Partridge and the Fowler
    The Flea and the Man
    The Rich Man and the Tanner
    The Viper and the File
    The Lion and the Shepherd
    The Camel and Jupiter
    The Panther and the Shepherds
    The Eagle and the Kite
    The Eagle and His Captor
    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion
    The Cat and Venus
    The Eagle and the Beetle
    The She-Goats and Their Beards
    The Bald Man and the Fly
    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea
    The Buffoon and the Countryman
    The Crow and the Serpent
    The Hunter and the Horseman
    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree
    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun
    The Brazier and His Dog
    FOOTNOTES
    INDEX

    PREFACE

    The Tale, the Parable, and the Fable are all common and popular modes
    of conveying instruction. Each is distinguished by its own special
    characteristics. The Tale consists simply in the narration of a story
    either founded on facts, or created solely by the imagination, and not
    necessarily associated with the teaching of any moral lesson. The
    Parable is the designed use of language purposely intended to convey a
    hidden and secret meaning other than that contained in the words
    themselves; and which may or may not bear a special reference to the
    hearer, or reader. The Fable partly agrees with, and partly differs
    from both of these. It will contain, like the Tale, a short but real
    narrative; it will seek, like the Parable, to convey a hidden meaning,
    and that not so much by the use of language, as by the skilful
    introduction of fictitious characters; and yet, unlike to either Tale
    or Parable, it will ever keep in view, as its high prerogative, and
    inseparable attribute, the great purpose of instruction, and will
    necessarily seek to inculcate some moral maxim, social duty, or
    political truth. The true Fable, if it rise to its high requirements,
    ever aims at one great end and purpose—the representation of human
    motive, and the improvement of human conduct, and yet it so conceals
    its design under the disguise of fictitious characters, by clothing
    with speech the animals of the field, the birds of the air, the trees
    of the wood, or the beasts of the forest, that the reader shall receive
    advice without perceiving the presence of the adviser. Thus the
    superiority of the counsellor, which often renders counsel unpalatable,
    is kept out of view, and the lesson comes with the greater acceptance
    when the reader is led, unconsciously to himself, to have his
    sympathies enlisted in behalf of what is pure, honourable, and
    praiseworthy, and to have his indignation excited against what is low,
    ignoble, and unworthy. The true fabulist, therefore, discharges a most
    important function. He is neither a narrator, nor an allegorist. He is
    a great teacher, a corrector of morals, a censor of vice, and a
    commender of virtue. In this consists the superiority of the Fable over
    the Tale or the Parable. The fabulist is to create a laugh, but yet,
    under a merry guise, to convey instruction. Phædrus, the great imitator
    of Æsop, plainly indicates this double purpose to be the true office of
    the writer of fables.

    Duplex libelli dos est: quod risum movet,
    Et quod prudenti vitam consilio monet.

    The continual observance of this twofold aim creates the charm, and
    accounts for the universal favour, of the fables of Æsop. “The fable,”
    says Professor K. O. Mueller, “originated in Greece in an intentional
    travestie of human affairs. The ‘ainos,’ as its name denotes, is an
    admonition, or rather a reproof, veiled, either from fear of an excess
    of frankness, or from a love of fun and jest, beneath the fiction of an
    occurrence happening among beasts; and wherever we have any ancient and
    authentic account of the Æsopian fables, we find it to be the same.”[1]

    The construction of a fable involves a minute attention to (1), the
    narration itself; (2), the deduction of the moral; and (3), a careful
    maintenance of the individual characteristics of the fictitious
    personages introduced into it. The narration should relate to one
    simple action, consistent with itself, and neither be overladen with a
    multiplicity of details, nor distracted by a variety of circumstances.
    The moral or lesson should be so plain, and so intimately interwoven
    with, and so necessarily dependent on, the narration, that every reader
    should be compelled to give to it the same undeniable interpretation.
    The introduction of the animals or fictitious characters should be
    marked with an unexceptionable care and attention to their natural
    attributes, and to the qualities attributed to them by universal
    popular consent. The Fox should be always cunning, the Hare timid, the
    Lion bold, the Wolf cruel, the Bull strong, the Horse proud, and the
    Ass patient. Many of these fables are characterized by the strictest
    observance of these rules. They are occupied with one short narrative,
    from which the moral naturally flows, and with which it is intimately
    associated. “’Tis the simple manner,” says Dodsley,[2] “in which the
    morals of Æsop are interwoven with his fables that distinguishes him,
    and gives him the preference over all other mythologists. His ‘Mountain
    delivered of a Mouse,’ produces the moral of his fable in ridicule of
    pompous pretenders; and his Crow, when she drops her cheese, lets fall,
    as it were by accident, the strongest admonition against the power of
    flattery. There is no need of a separate sentence to explain it; no
    possibility of impressing it deeper, by that load we too often see of
    accumulated reflections.”[3] An equal amount of praise is due for the
    consistency with which the characters of the animals, fictitiously
    introduced, are marked. While they are made to depict the motives and
    passions of men, they retain, in an eminent degree, their own special
    features of craft or counsel, of cowardice or courage, of generosity or
    rapacity.

    These terms of praise, it must be confessed, cannot be bestowed on all
    the fables in this collection. Many of them lack that unity of design,
    that close connection of the moral with the narrative, that wise choice
    in the introduction of the animals, which constitute the charm and
    excellency of true Æsopian fable. This inferiority of some to others is
    sufficiently accounted for in the history of the origin and descent of
    these fables. The great bulk of them are not the immediate work of
    Æsop. Many are obtained from ancient authors prior to the time in which
    he lived. Thus, the fable of the “Hawk and the Nightingale” is related
    by Hesiod;[4] the “Eagle wounded by an Arrow, winged with its own
    feathers,” by Æschylus;[5] the “Fox avenging his wrongs on the Eagle,”
    by Archilochus.[6] Many of them again are of later origin, and are to
    be traced to the monks of the middle ages: and yet this collection,
    though thus made up of fables both earlier and later than the era of
    Æsop, rightfully bears his name, because he composed so large a number
    (all framed in the same mould, and conformed to the same fashion, and
    stamped with the same lineaments, image, and superscription) as to
    secure to himself the right to be considered the father of Greek
    fables, and the founder of this class of writing, which has ever since
    borne his name, and has secured for him, through all succeeding ages,
    the position of the first of moralists.[7]

    The fables were in the first instance only narrated by Æsop, and for a
    long time were handed down by the uncertain channel of oral tradition.
    Socrates is mentioned by Plato[8] as having employed his time while in
    prison, awaiting the return of the sacred ship from Delphos which was
    to be the signal of his death, in turning some of these fables into
    verse, but he thus versified only such as he remembered. Demetrius
    Phalereus, a philosopher at Athens about 300 B.C., is said to have made
    the first collection of these fables. Phædrus, a slave by birth or by
    subsequent misfortunes, and admitted by Augustus to the honours of a
    freedman, imitated many of these fables in Latin iambics about the
    commencement of the Christian era. Aphthonius, a rhetorician of
    Antioch, A.D. 315, wrote a treatise on, and converted into Latin prose,
    some of these fables. This translation is the more worthy of notice, as
    it illustrates a custom of common use, both in these and in later
    times. The rhetoricians and philosophers were accustomed to give the
    Fables of Æsop as an exercise to their scholars, not only inviting them
    to discuss the moral of the tale, but also to practice and to perfect
    themselves thereby in style and rules of grammar, by making for
    themselves new and various versions of the fables. Ausonius,[9] the
    friend of the Emperor Valentinian, and the latest poet of eminence in
    the Western Empire, has handed down some of these fables in verse,
    which Julianus Titianus, a contemporary writer of no great name,
    translated into prose. Avienus, also a contemporary of Ausonius, put
    some of these fables into Latin elegiacs, which are given by Nevelet
    (in a book we shall refer to hereafter), and are occasionally
    incorporated with the editions of Phædrus.

    Seven centuries elapsed before the next notice is found of the Fables
    of Æsop. During this long period these fables seem to have suffered an
    eclipse, to have disappeared and to have been forgotten; and it is at
    the commencement of the fourteenth century, when the Byzantine emperors
    were the great patrons of learning, and amidst the splendors of an
    Asiatic court, that we next find honours paid to the name and memory of
    Æsop. Maximus Planudes, a learned monk of Constantinople, made a
    collection of about a hundred and fifty of these fables. Little is
    known of his history. Planudes, however, was no mere recluse, shut up
    in his monastery. He took an active part in public affairs. In 1327
    A.D. he was sent on a diplomatic mission to Venice by the Emperor
    Andronicus the Elder. This brought him into immediate contact with the
    Western Patriarch, whose interests he henceforth advocated with so much
    zeal as to bring on him suspicion and persecution from the rulers of
    the Eastern Church. Planudes has been exposed to a two-fold accusation.
    He is charged on the one hand with having had before him a copy of
    Babrias (to whom we shall have occasion to refer at greater length in
    the end of this Preface), and to have had the bad taste “to transpose,”
    or to turn his poetical version into prose: and he is asserted, on the
    other hand, never to have seen the Fables of Æsop at all, but to have
    himself invented and made the fables which he palmed off under the name
    of the famous Greek fabulist. The truth lies between these two
    extremes. Planudes may have invented some few fables, or have inserted
    some that were current in his day; but there is an abundance of
    unanswerable internal evidence to prove that he had an acquaintance
    with the veritable fables of Æsop, although the versions he had access
    to were probably corrupt, as contained in the various translations and
    disquisitional exercises of the rhetoricians and philosophers. His
    collection is interesting and important, not only as the parent source
    or foundation of the earlier printed versions of Æsop, but as the
    direct channel of attracting to these fables the attention of the
    learned.

    The eventual re-introduction, however, of these Fables of Æsop to their
    high place in the general literature of Christendom, is to be looked
    for in the West rather than in the East. The calamities gradually
    thickening round the Eastern Empire, and the fall of Constantinople,
    1453 A.D. combined with other events to promote the rapid restoration
    of learning in Italy; and with that recovery of learning the revival of
    an interest in the Fables of Æsop is closely identified. These fables,
    indeed, were among the first writings of an earlier antiquity that
    attracted attention. They took their place beside the Holy Scriptures
    and the ancient classic authors, in the minds of the great students of
    that day. Lorenzo Valla, one of the most famous promoters of Italian
    learning, not only translated into Latin the Iliad of Homer and the
    Histories of Herodotus and Thucydides, but also the Fables of Æsop.

    These fables, again, were among the books brought into an extended
    circulation by the agency of the printing press. Bonus Accursius, as
    early as 1475–1480, printed the collection of these fables, made by
    Planudes, which, within five years afterwards, Caxton translated into
    English, and printed at his press in Westminster Abbey, 1485.[10] It
    must be mentioned also that the learning of this age has left permanent
    traces of its influence on these fables,[11] by causing the
    interpolation with them (as a κτῆμα εἰς ἰει) of some of those amusing
    stories which were so frequently introduced into the public discourses
    of the great preachers of those days, and of which specimens are yet to
    be found in the extant sermons of Jean Raulin, Meffreth, and Gabriel
    Barlette.[12] The publication of this era which most probably has
    influenced these fables, is the “Liber Facetiarum,”[13] a book
    consisting of a hundred jests and stories, by the celebrated Poggio
    Bracciolini, published A.D. 1471, from which the two fables of the
    “Miller, his Son, and the Ass,” and the “Fox and the Woodcutter,” are
    undoubtedly selected.

    The knowledge of these fables rapidly spread from Italy into Germany,
    and their popularity was increased by the favour and sanction given to
    them by the great fathers of the Reformation, who frequently used them
    as vehicles for satire and protest against the tricks and abuses of the
    Romish ecclesiastics. The zealous and renowned Camerarius, who took an
    active part in the preparation of the Confession of Augsburgh, found
    time, amidst his numerous avocations, to prepare a version for the
    students in the University of Tübingen, in which he was a professor.
    Martin Luther translated twenty of these fables, and was urged by
    Melancthon to complete the whole; while Gottfried Arnold, the
    celebrated Lutheran theologian, and librarian to Frederick I., king of
    Prussia, mentions that the great Reformer valued the Fables of Æsop
    next after the Holy Scriptures. In 1546 A.D. the second printed edition
    of the collection of the Fables made by Planudes, was issued from the
    printing-press of Robert Stephens, in which were inserted some
    additional fables from a MS. in the Bibliothêque du Roy at Paris.

    The greatest advance, however, towards a re-introduction of the Fables
    of Æsop to a place in the literature of the world, was made in the
    early part of the seventeenth century. In the year 1610, a learned
    Swiss, Isaac Nicholas Nevelet, sent forth the third printed edition of
    these fables, in a work entitled “Mythologia Æsopica.” This was a noble
    effort to do honour to the great fabulist, and was the most perfect
    collection of Æsopian fables ever yet published. It consisted, in
    addition to the collection of fables given by Planudes and reprinted in
    the various earlier editions, of one hundred and thirty-six new fables
    (never before published) from MSS. in the Library of the Vatican, of
    forty fables attributed to Aphthonius, and of forty-three from Babrias.
    It also contained the Latin versions of the same fables by Phædrus,
    Avienus, and other authors. This volume of Nevelet forms a complete
    “Corpus Fabularum Æsopicarum;” and to his labours Æsop owes his
    restoration to universal favour as one of the wise moralists and great
    teachers of mankind. During the interval of three centuries which has
    elapsed since the publication of this volume of Nevelet’s, no book,
    with the exception of the Holy Scriptures, has had a wider circulation
    than Æsop’s Fables. They have been translated into the greater number
    of the languages both of Europe and of the East, and have been read,
    and will be read, for generations, alike by Jew, Heathen, Mohammedan,
    and Christian. They are, at the present time, not only engrafted into
    the literature of the civilized world, but are familiar as household
    words in the common intercourse and daily conversation of the
    inhabitants of all countries.

    This collection of Nevelet’s is the great culminating point in the
    history of the revival of the fame and reputation of Æsopian Fables. It
    is remarkable, also, as containing in its preface the germ of an idea,
    which has been since proved to have been correct by a strange chain of
    circumstances. Nevelet intimates an opinion, that a writer named
    Babrias would be found to be the veritable author of the existing form
    of Æsopian Fables. This intimation has since given rise to a series of
    inquiries, the knowledge of which is necessary, in the present day, to
    a full understanding of the true position of Æsop in connection with
    the writings that bear his name.

    The history of Babrias is so strange and interesting, that it might not
    unfitly be enumerated among the curiosities of literature. He is
    generally supposed to have been a Greek of Asia Minor, of one of the
    Ionic Colonies, but the exact period in which he lived and wrote is yet
    unsettled. He is placed, by one critic,[14] as far back as the
    institution of the Achaian League, B.C. 250; by another as late as the
    Emperor Severus, who died A.D. 235; while others make him a
    contemporary with Phædrus in the time of Augustus. At whatever time he
    wrote his version of Æsop, by some strange accident it seems to have
    entirely disappeared, and to have been lost sight of. His name is
    mentioned by Avienus; by Suidas, a celebrated critic, at the close of
    the eleventh century, who gives in his lexicon several isolated verses
    of his version of the fables; and by John Tzetzes, a grammarian and
    poet of Constantinople, who lived during the latter half of the twelfth
    century. Nevelet, in the preface to the volume which we have described,
    points out that the Fables of Planudes could not be the work of Æsop,
    as they contain a reference in two places to “Holy monks,” and give a
    verse from the Epistle of St. James as an “Epimith” to one of the
    fables, and suggests Babrias as their author. Francis Vavassor,[15] a
    learned French jesuit, entered at greater length on this subject, and
    produced further proofs from internal evidence, from the use of the
    word Piræus in describing the harbour of Athens, a name which was not
    given till two hundred years after Æsop, and from the introduction of
    other modern words, that many of these fables must have been at least
    committed to writing posterior to the time of Æsop, and more boldly
    suggests Babrias as their author or collector.[16] These various
    references to Babrias induced Dr. Richard Bentley, at the close of the
    seventeenth century, to examine more minutely the existing versions of
    Æsop’s Fables, and he maintained that many of them could, with a slight
    change of words, be resolved into the Scazonic[17] iambics, in which
    Babrias is known to have written: and, with a greater freedom than the
    evidence then justified, he put forth, in behalf of Babrias, a claim to
    the exclusive authorship of these fables. Such a seemingly extravagant
    theory, thus roundly asserted, excited much opposition. Dr. Bentley[18]
    met with an able antagonist in a member of the University of Oxford,
    the Hon. Mr. Charles Boyle,[19] afterwards Earl of Orrery. Their
    letters and disputations on this subject, enlivened on both sides with
    much wit and learning, will ever bear a conspicuous place in the
    literary history of the seventeenth century. The arguments of Dr.
    Bentley were yet further defended a few years later by Mr. Thomas
    Tyrwhitt, a well-read scholar, who gave up high civil distinctions that
    he might devote himself the more unreservedly to literary pursuits. Mr.
    Tyrwhitt published, A.D. 1776, a Dissertation on Babrias, and a
    collection of his fables in choliambic metre found in a MS. in the
    Bodleian Library at Oxford. Francesco de Furia, a learned Italian,
    contributed further testimony to the correctness of the supposition
    that Babrias had made a veritable collection of fables by printing from
    a MS. contained in the Vatican library several fables never before
    published. In the year 1844, however, new and unexpected light was
    thrown upon this subject. A veritable copy of Babrias was found in a
    manner as singular as were the MSS. of Quinctilian’s Institutes, and of
    Cicero’s Orations by Poggio in the monastery of St. Gall A.D. 1416. M.
    Menoides, at the suggestion of M. Villemain, Minister of Public
    Instruction to King Louis Philippe, had been entrusted with a
    commission to search for ancient MSS., and in carrying out his
    instructions he found a MS. at the convent of St. Laura, on Mount
    Athos, which proved to be a copy of the long suspected and wished-for
    choliambic version of Babrias. This MS. was found to be divided into
    two books, the one containing a hundred and twenty-five, and the other
    ninety-five fables. This discovery attracted very general attention,
    not only as confirming, in a singular manner, the conjectures so boldly
    made by a long chain of critics, but as bringing to light valuable
    literary treasures tending to establish the reputation, and to confirm
    the antiquity and authenticity of the great mass of Æsopian Fable. The
    Fables thus recovered were soon published. They found a most worthy
    editor in the late distinguished Sir George Cornewall Lewis, and a
    translator equally qualified for his task, in the Reverend James
    Davies, M.A., sometime a scholar of Lincoln College, Oxford, and
    himself a relation of their English editor. Thus, after an eclipse of
    many centuries, Babrias shines out as the earliest, and most reliable
    collector of veritable Æsopian Fables.

    Having thus given a complete synopsis of the origin, descent, and
    history of these fables, it only remains to explain the reasons which
    have induced the Publishers to prepare a new edition of Æsop, and to
    state the grounds on which they hope to establish a claim for support
    and public approval in their undertaking. They boldly assert that the
    new light thrown upon these fables by the discovery of the metrical
    version by Babrias, renders a new translation an inevitable necessity.
    The two chief existing English versions of Æsop are those by Archdeacon
    Croxall, and by the late Rev. Thomas James, canon of Peterborough. The
    first of these deviates so very far from the text, that it degenerates
    into a parody. The fables are so padded, diluted, and altered, as to
    give very little idea to the reader either of the terseness or the
    meaning of the original. The second of these is an improvement on its
    predecessor, but Mr. James, either out of compliance with the wishes of
    the publishers, or in condescension to the taste prevalent some twenty
    years ago, has so freely introduced as the point of the fable
    conventional English sayings which are not sanctioned by the Greek, and
    which in many instances are scarcely equivalent to it, that his version
    frequently approaches a paraphrase rather than a translation.

    The Publishers therefore ground their first claim for public approval
    on the necessity of a new translation. They trust further that their
    present work will have met that necessity in a satisfactory manner.
    They have sought to give as nearly a literal translation as possible of
    the Greek text; and they hope that if the reader should miss the
    smoothness and thoroughly English tone which characterized the previous
    version of these fables, he will be more than repaid by gaining a
    nearer approach to the spirit, thoughts, and (in some cases) to the
    epigrammatic terseness of the original. The Publishers trust to
    vindicate, on another ground, their claims to a share of public
    patronage. They have inserted a hundred new fables, and they have the
    satisfaction of knowing that this edition, on which they have spared no
    pains nor cost, will afford a larger choice, and greater variety, to
    the numerous and increasing circle of the admirers of Æsopian Fables.
    Whatever be the result of their labours, they will be content to have
    contributed towards promoting a wider acquaintance with fables, the
    wisdom, excellency, and wonderful suitableness of which to every
    condition of humanity has been attested and confirmed by the experience
    of so many generations; and which in all ages, amidst the ever changing
    fluctuations of human opinion, are adapted alike to amuse the young,
    and to instruct the thoughtful, and are well fitted to teach all who
    study them lessons useful for their guidance in every position of
    political, social, civil, or domestic life.

    The Editor must claim the privilege of adding a few words on a matter
    personal to himself. He has already within the last few months been
    connected with one edition of Æsop, and it may seem strange that he
    should be willing to undertake the superintendence of another. His
    answer is, that the two works on which he has been engaged were totally
    distinct, and entirely independent of each other. The first was a
    request to furnish new morals and applications to a definite number of
    fables; Ihe other was a commission to add a large number of additional
    fables and to make a wholly new translation. The necessity of a new and
    improved translation the Editor then recognized, and would have
    willingly undertaken. It was a wish he had much at heart, and when the
    proposal was voluntarily made to him by the present Publishers, to
    undertake the task of a new translation of an enlarged number of Æsop’s
    Fables, he saw no reason for refusing the offer because of his prior
    discharge of a totally different design; and he resolved to comply with
    the request submitted to him, and to do his best towards the attainment
    of so desirable an object as a purer translation and more literal
    rendering of fables so justly celebrated.

    The following are the sources from which the present translation has
    been prepared:—

    Babrii Fabulæ Æsopeæ. George Cornewall Lewis. Oxford, 1846.

    Babrii Fabulæ Æsopeæ. E codice manuscripto partem secundam edidit.
    George Cornewall Lewis. London: Parker, 1857.

    Mythologica Æsopica. Opera et studia Isaaci Nicholai Neveleti.
    Frankfort, 1610.

    Fabulæ Æsopiacæ, quales ante Planudem ferebantur cura et studio
    Francisci de Furia. Lipsiæ, 1810.

    Αἰσωπεὶων Μυθῶν Συναγωγή. Ex recognitione Caroli Halmii. Lipsiæ, 1851

    Phædri Fabulæ Esopiæ. Delphin Classics. 1822.

    GEORGE FYLER TOWNSEND

    LIFE OF AESOP

    The Life and History of Æsop is involved, like that of Homer, the most
    famous of Greek poets, in much obscurity. Sardis, the capital of Lydia;
    Samos, a Greek island; Mesembria, an ancient colony in Thrace; and
    Cotiæum, the chief city of a province of Phrygia, contend for the
    distinction of being the birthplace of Æsop. Although the honour thus
    claimed cannot be definitely assigned to any one of these places, yet
    there are a few incidents now generally accepted by scholars as
    established facts, relating to the birth, life, and death of Æsop. He
    is, by an almost universal consent, allowed to have been born about the
    year 620 B.C., and to have been by birth a slave. He was owned by two
    masters in succession, both inhabitants of Samos, Xanthus and Jadmon,
    the latter of whom gave him his liberty as a reward for his learning
    and wit. One of the privileges of a freedman in the ancient republics
    of Greece, was the permission to take an active interest in public
    affairs; and Æsop, like the philosophers Phædo, Menippus, and
    Epictetus, in later times, raised himself from the indignity of a
    servile condition to a position of high renown. In his desire alike to
    instruct and to be instructed, he travelled through many countries, and
    among others came to Sardis, the capital of the famous king of Lydia,
    the great patron, in that day, of learning and of learned men. He met
    at the court of Crœsus with Solon, Thales, and other sages, and is
    related so to have pleased his royal master by the part he took in the
    conversations held with these philosophers, that he applied to him an
    expression which has since passed into a proverb, “μᾶλλον ὁ Φρύξ.” “The
    Phrygian has spoken better than all.”

    On the invitation of Crœsus he fixed his residence at Sardis, and was
    employed by that monarch in various difficult and delicate affairs of
    State. In his discharge of these commissions he visited the different
    petty republics of Greece. At one time he is found in Corinth, and at
    another in Athens, endeavouring, by the narration of some of his wise
    fables, to reconcile the inhabitants of those cities to the
    administration of their respective rulers Periander and Pisistratus.
    One of these ambassadorial missions, undertaken at the command of
    Crœsus, was the occasion of his death. Having been sent to Delphi with
    a large sum of gold for distribution among the citizens, he was so
    provoked at their covetousness that he refused to divide the money, and
    sent it back to his master. The Delphians, enraged at this treatment,
    accused him of impiety, and, in spite of his sacred character as
    ambassador, executed him as a public criminal. This cruel death of Æsop
    was not unavenged. The citizens of Delphi were visited with a series of
    calamities, until they made a public reparation of their crime; and,
    “The blood of Æsop” became a well-known adage, bearing witness to the
    truth that deeds of wrong would not pass unpunished. Neither did the
    great fabulist lack posthumous honours; for a statue was erected to his
    memory at Athens, the work of Lysippus, one of the most famous of Greek
    sculptors. Phædrus thus immortalizes the event:—

    Æsopo ingentem statuam posuere Attici,
    Servumque collocarunt æternâ in basi:
    Patere honoris scirent ut cuncti viam;
    Nec generi tribui sed virtuti gloriam.

    These few facts are all that can be relied on with any degree of
    certainty, in reference to the birth, life, and death of Æsop. They
    were first brought to light, after a patient search and diligent
    perusal of ancient authors, by a Frenchman, M. Claude Gaspard Bachet de
    Mezeriac, who declined the honour of being tutor to Louis XIII. of
    France, from his desire to devote himself exclusively to literature. He
    published his Life of Æsop, Anno Domini 1632. The later investigations
    of a host of English and German scholars have added very little to the
    facts given by M. Mezeriac. The substantial truth of his statements has
    been confirmed by later criticism and inquiry. It remains to state,
    that prior to this publication of M. Mezeriac, the life of Æsop was
    from the pen of Maximus Planudes, a monk of Constantinople, who was
    sent on an embassy to Venice by the Byzantine Emperor Andronicus the
    elder, and who wrote in the early part of the fourteenth century. His
    life was prefixed to all the early editions of these fables, and was
    republished as late as 1727 by Archdeacon Croxall as the introduction
    to his edition of Æsop. This life by Planudes contains, however, so
    small an amount of truth, and is so full of absurd pictures of the
    grotesque deformity of Æsop, of wondrous apocryphal stories, of lying
    legends, and gross anachronisms, that it is now universally condemned
    as false, puerile, and unauthentic.[20] It is given up in the present
    day, by general consent, as unworthy of the slightest credit.

    AESOP’S FABLES

    The Lion And The Mouse

    A LION was awakened from sleep by a Mouse running over his face. Rising
    up angrily, he caught him and was about to kill him, when the Mouse
    piteously entreated, saying: “If you would only spare my life, I would
    be sure to repay your kindness.” The Lion laughed and let him go. It
    happened shortly after this that the Lion was caught by some hunters,
    who bound him by strong ropes to the ground. The Mouse, recognizing his
    roar, came and gnawed the rope with his teeth, and set him free,
    exclaiming:

    “You ridiculed the idea of my ever being able to help you, not
    expecting to receive from me any repayment of your favour; now you know
    that it is possible for even a Mouse to confer benefits on a Lion.”

    The Wolf And The Lamb

    WOLF, meeting with a Lamb astray from the fold, resolved not to lay
    violent hands on him, but to find some plea to justify to the Lamb the
    Wolf’s right to eat him. He thus addressed him: “Sirrah, last year you
    grossly insulted me.” “Indeed,” bleated the Lamb in a mournful tone of
    voice, “I was not then born.” Then said the Wolf, “You feed in my
    pasture.” “No, good sir,” replied the Lamb, “I have not yet tasted
    grass.” Again said the Wolf, “You drink of my well.” “No,” exclaimed
    the Lamb, “I never yet drank water, for as yet my mother’s milk is both
    food and drink to me.” Upon which the Wolf seized him and ate him up,
    saying, “Well! I won’t remain supperless, even though you refute every
    one of my imputations.” The tyrant will always find a pretext for his
    tyranny.

    The Ass And The Grasshopper

    AN ASS having heard some Grasshoppers chirping, was highly enchanted;
    and, desiring to possess the same charms of melody, demanded what sort
    of food they lived on to give them such beautiful voices. They replied,
    “The dew.” The Ass resolved that he would live only upon dew, and in a
    short time died of hunger.

    The Wolf and the Crane

    A WOLF who had a bone stuck in his throat hired a Crane, for a large
    sum, to put her head into his mouth and draw out the bone. When the
    Crane had extracted the bone and demanded the promised payment, the
    Wolf, grinning and grinding his teeth, exclaimed: “Why, you have surely
    already had a sufficient recompense, in having been permitted to draw
    out your head in safety from the mouth and jaws of a wolf.”

    In serving the wicked, expect no reward, and be thankful if you escape
    injury for your pains.

    The Father And His Sons

    A FATHER had a family of sons who were perpetually quarreling among
    themselves. When he failed to heal their disputes by his exhortations,
    he determined to give them a practical illustration of the evils of
    disunion; and for this purpose he one day told them to bring him a
    bundle of sticks. When they had done so, he placed the faggot into the
    hands of each of them in succession, and ordered them to break it in
    pieces. They tried with all their strength, and were not able to do it.
    He next opened the faggot, took the sticks separately, one by one, and
    again put them into his sons’ hands, upon which they broke them easily.
    He then addressed them in these words: “My sons, if you are of one
    mind, and unite to assist each other, you will be as this faggot,
    uninjured by all the attempts of your enemies; but if you are divided
    among yourselves, you will be broken as easily as these sticks.”

    The Bat And The Weasels

    A BAT who fell upon the ground and was caught by a Weasel pleaded to be
    spared his life. The Weasel refused, saying that he was by nature the
    enemy of all birds. The Bat assured him that he was not a bird, but a
    mouse, and thus was set free. Shortly afterwards the Bat again fell to
    the ground and was caught by another Weasel, whom he likewise entreated
    not to eat him. The Weasel said that he had a special hostility to
    mice. The Bat assured him that he was not a mouse, but a bat, and thus
    a second time escaped.

    It is wise to turn circumstances to good account.

    The Cock and the Jewel

    A COCK, scratching for food for himself and his hens, found a precious
    stone and exclaimed: “If your owner had found thee, and not I, he would
    have taken thee up, and have set thee in thy first estate; but I have
    found thee for no purpose. I would rather have one barleycorn than all
    the jewels in the world.”

    The Swallow and the Crow

    THE SWALLOW and the Crow had a contention about their plumage. The Crow
    put an end to the dispute by saying, “Your feathers are all very well
    in the spring, but mine protect me against the winter.”

    Fair weather friends are not worth much.

    The Kingdom of the Lion

    THE BEASTS of the field and forest had a Lion as their king. He was
    neither wrathful, cruel, nor tyrannical, but just and gentle as a king
    could be. During his reign he made a royal proclamation for a general
    assembly of all the birds and beasts, and drew up conditions for a
    universal league, in which the Wolf and the Lamb, the Panther and the
    Kid, the Tiger and the Stag, the Dog and the Hare, should live together
    in perfect peace and amity. The Hare said, “Oh, how I have longed to
    see this day, in which the weak shall take their place with impunity by
    the side of the strong.” And after the Hare said this, he ran for his
    life.

    The Traveler and His Dog

    A TRAVELER about to set out on a journey saw his Dog stand at the door
    stretching himself. He asked him sharply: “Why do you stand there
    gaping? Everything is ready but you, so come with me instantly.” The
    Dog, wagging his tail, replied: “O, master! I am quite ready; it is you
    for whom I am waiting.”

    The loiterer often blames delay on his more active friend.

    The Ants and the Grasshopper

    THE ANTS were spending a fine winter’s day drying grain collected in
    the summertime. A Grasshopper, perishing with famine, passed by and
    earnestly begged for a little food. The Ants inquired of him, “Why did
    you not treasure up food during the summer?” He replied, “I had not
    leisure enough. I passed the days in singing.” They then said in
    derision: “If you were foolish enough to sing all the summer, you must
    dance supperless to bed in the winter.”

    The Hare and the Tortoise

    A HARE one day ridiculed the short feet and slow pace of the Tortoise,
    who replied, laughing: “Though you be swift as the wind, I will beat
    you in a race.” The Hare, believing her assertion to be simply
    impossible, assented to the proposal; and they agreed that the Fox
    should choose the course and fix the goal. On the day appointed for the
    race the two started together. The Tortoise never for a moment stopped,
    but went on with a slow but steady pace straight to the end of the
    course. The Hare, lying down by the wayside, fell fast asleep. At last
    waking up, and moving as fast as he could, he saw the Tortoise had
    reached the goal, and was comfortably dozing after her fatigue.

    Slow but steady wins the race.

    The Charcoal-Burner And The Fuller

    A CHARCOAL-BURNER carried on his trade in his own house. One day he met
    a friend, a Fuller, and entreated him to come and live with him, saying
    that they should be far better neighbors and that their housekeeping
    expenses would be lessened. The Fuller replied, “The arrangement is
    impossible as far as I am concerned, for whatever I should whiten, you
    would immediately blacken again with your charcoal.”

    Like will draw like.

    The Boy Hunting Locusts

    A BOY was hunting for locusts. He had caught a goodly number, when he
    saw a Scorpion, and mistaking him for a locust, reached out his hand to
    take him. The Scorpion, showing his sting, said: “If you had but
    touched me, my friend, you would have lost me, and all your locusts
    too!”

    The Fisherman Piping

    A FISHERMAN skilled in music took his flute and his nets to the
    seashore. Standing on a projecting rock, he played several tunes in the
    hope that the fish, attracted by his melody, would of their own accord
    dance into his net, which he had placed below. At last, having long
    waited in vain, he laid aside his flute, and casting his net into the
    sea, made an excellent haul of fish. When he saw them leaping about in
    the net upon the rock he said: “O you most perverse creatures, when I
    piped you would not dance, but now that I have ceased you do so
    merrily.”

    The Dog and the Shadow

    A DOG, crossing a bridge over a stream with a piece of flesh in his
    mouth, saw his own shadow in the water and took it for that of another
    Dog, with a piece of meat double his own in size. He immediately let go
    of his own, and fiercely attacked the other Dog to get his larger piece
    from him. He thus lost both: that which he grasped at in the water,
    because it was a shadow; and his own, because the stream swept it away.

    Hercules and the Wagoner

    A CARTER was driving a wagon along a country lane, when the wheels sank
    down deep into a rut. The rustic driver, stupefied and aghast, stood
    looking at the wagon, and did nothing but utter loud cries to Hercules
    to come and help him. Hercules, it is said, appeared and thus addressed
    him: “Put your shoulders to the wheels, my man. Goad on your bullocks,
    and never more pray to me for help, until you have done your best to
    help yourself, or depend upon it you will henceforth pray in vain.”

    Self-help is the best help.

    The Mole and His Mother

    A MOLE, a creature blind from birth, once said to his Mother: “I am
    sure than I can see, Mother!” In the desire to prove to him his
    mistake, his Mother placed before him a few grains of frankincense, and
    asked, “What is it?” The young Mole said, “It is a pebble.” His Mother
    exclaimed: “My son, I am afraid that you are not only blind, but that
    you have lost your sense of smell.”

    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull

    A HERDSMAN tending his flock in a forest lost a Bull-calf from the
    fold. After a long and fruitless search, he made a vow that, if he
    could only discover the thief who had stolen the Calf, he would offer a
    lamb in sacrifice to Hermes, Pan, and the Guardian Deities of the
    forest. Not long afterwards, as he ascended a small hillock, he saw at
    its foot a Lion feeding on the Calf. Terrified at the sight, he lifted
    his eyes and his hands to heaven, and said: “Just now I vowed to offer
    a lamb to the Guardian Deities of the forest if I could only find out
    who had robbed me; but now that I have discovered the thief, I would
    willingly add a full-grown Bull to the Calf I have lost, if I may only
    secure my own escape from him in safety.”

    The Fawn and His Mother

    A YOUNG FAWN once said to his Mother, “You are larger than a dog, and
    swifter, and more used to running, and you have your horns as a
    defense; why, then, O Mother! do the hounds frighten you so?” She
    smiled, and said: “I know full well, my son, that all you say is true.
    I have the advantages you mention, but when I hear even the bark of a
    single dog I feel ready to faint, and fly away as fast as I can.”

    No arguments will give courage to the coward.

    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion

    THE ASS and the Fox, having entered into partnership together for their
    mutual protection, went out into the forest to hunt. They had not
    proceeded far when they met a Lion. The Fox, seeing imminent danger,
    approached the Lion and promised to contrive for him the capture of the
    Ass if the Lion would pledge his word not to harm the Fox. Then, upon
    assuring the Ass that he would not be injured, the Fox led him to a
    deep pit and arranged that he should fall into it. The Lion, seeing
    that the Ass was secured, immediately clutched the Fox, and attacked
    the Ass at his leisure.

    The Flies and the Honey-Pot

    A NUMBER of Flies were attracted to a jar of honey which had been
    overturned in a housekeeper’s room, and placing their feet in it, ate
    greedily. Their feet, however, became so smeared with the honey that
    they could not use their wings, nor release themselves, and were
    suffocated. Just as they were expiring, they exclaimed, “O foolish
    creatures that we are, for the sake of a little pleasure we have
    destroyed ourselves.”

    Pleasure bought with pains, hurts.

    The Lioness

    A CONTROVERSY prevailed among the beasts of the field as to which of
    the animals deserved the most credit for producing the greatest number
    of whelps at a birth. They rushed clamorously into the presence of the
    Lioness and demanded of her the settlement of the dispute. “And you,”
    they said, “how many sons have you at a birth?” The Lioness laughed at
    them, and said: “Why! I have only one; but that one is altogether a
    thoroughbred Lion.”

    The value is in the worth, not in the number.

    The Farmer and the Snake

    ONE WINTER a Farmer found a Snake stiff and frozen with cold. He had
    compassion on it, and taking it up, placed it in his bosom. The Snake
    was quickly revived by the warmth, and resuming its natural instincts,
    bit its benefactor, inflicting on him a mortal wound. “Oh,” cried the
    Farmer with his last breath, “I am rightly served for pitying a
    scoundrel.”

    The greatest kindness will not bind the ungrateful.

    The Man and the Lion

    A MAN and a Lion traveled together through the forest. They soon began
    to boast of their respective superiority to each other in strength and
    prowess. As they were disputing, they passed a statue carved in stone,
    which represented “a Lion strangled by a Man.” The traveler pointed to
    it and said: “See there! How strong we are, and how we prevail over
    even the king of beasts.” The Lion replied: “This statue was made by
    one of you men. If we Lions knew how to erect statues, you would see
    the Man placed under the paw of the Lion.”

    One story is good, till another is told.

    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble

    THE POMEGRANATE and Apple-Tree disputed as to which was the most
    beautiful. When their strife was at its height, a Bramble from the
    neighboring hedge lifted up its voice, and said in a boastful tone:
    “Pray, my dear friends, in my presence at least cease from such vain
    disputings.”

    The Farmer and the Stork

    A FARMER placed nets on his newly-sown plowlands and caught a number of
    Cranes, which came to pick up his seed. With them he trapped a Stork
    that had fractured his leg in the net and was earnestly beseeching the
    Farmer to spare his life. “Pray save me, Master,” he said, “and let me
    go free this once. My broken limb should excite your pity. Besides, I
    am no Crane, I am a Stork, a bird of excellent character; and see how I
    love and slave for my father and mother. Look too, at my feathers—they
    are not the least like those of a Crane.” The Farmer laughed aloud and
    said, “It may be all as you say, I only know this: I have taken you
    with these robbers, the Cranes, and you must die in their company.”

    Birds of a feather flock together.

    The Mountain in Labor

    A MOUNTAIN was once greatly agitated. Loud groans and noises were
    heard, and crowds of people came from all parts to see what was the
    matter. While they were assembled in anxious expectation of some
    terrible calamity, out came a Mouse.

    Don’t make much ado about nothing.

    The Bear and the Fox

    A BEAR boasted very much of his philanthropy, saying that of all
    animals he was the most tender in his regard for man, for he had such
    respect for him that he would not even touch his dead body. A Fox
    hearing these words said with a smile to the Bear, “Oh! that you would
    eat the dead and not the living.”

    The Tortoise and the Eagle

    A TORTOISE, lazily basking in the sun, complained to the sea-birds of
    her hard fate, that no one would teach her to fly. An Eagle, hovering
    near, heard her lamentation and demanded what reward she would give him
    if he would take her aloft and float her in the air. “I will give you,”
    she said, “all the riches of the Red Sea.” “I will teach you to fly
    then,” said the Eagle; and taking her up in his talons he carried her
    almost to the clouds suddenly he let her go, and she fell on a lofty
    mountain, dashing her shell to pieces. The Tortoise exclaimed in the
    moment of death: “I have deserved my present fate; for what had I to do
    with wings and clouds, who can with difficulty move about on the
    earth?”

    If men had all they wished, they would be often ruined.

    The Fox and the Goat

    A FOX one day fell into a deep well and could find no means of escape.
    A Goat, overcome with thirst, came to the same well, and seeing the
    Fox, inquired if the water was good. Concealing his sad plight under a
    merry guise, the Fox indulged in a lavish praise of the water, saying
    it was excellent beyond measure, and encouraging him to descend. The
    Goat, mindful only of his thirst, thoughtlessly jumped down, but just
    as he drank, the Fox informed him of the difficulty they were both in
    and suggested a scheme for their common escape. “If,” said he, “you
    will place your forefeet upon the wall and bend your head, I will run
    up your back and escape, and will help you out afterwards.” The Goat
    readily assented and the Fox leaped upon his back. Steadying himself
    with the Goat’s horns, he safely reached the mouth of the well and made
    off as fast as he could. When the Goat upbraided him for breaking his
    promise, he turned around and cried out, “You foolish old fellow! If
    you had as many brains in your head as you have hairs in your beard,
    you would never have gone down before you had inspected the way up, nor
    have exposed yourself to dangers from which you had no means of
    escape.”

    Look before you leap.

    The Raven and the Swan

    A RAVEN saw a Swan and desired to secure for himself the same beautiful
    plumage. Supposing that the Swan’s splendid white color arose from his
    washing in the water in which he swam, the Raven left the altars in the
    neighborhood where he picked up his living, and took up residence in
    the lakes and pools. But cleansing his feathers as often as he would,
    he could not change their color, while through want of food he
    perished.

    Change of habit cannot alter Nature.

    The Thirsty Pigeon

    A PIGEON, oppressed by excessive thirst, saw a goblet of water painted
    on a signboard. Not supposing it to be only a picture, she flew towards
    it with a loud whir and unwittingly dashed against the signboard,
    jarring herself terribly. Having broken her wings by the blow, she fell
    to the ground, and was caught by one of the bystanders.

    Zeal should not outrun discretion.

    The Dog in the Manger

    A DOG lay in a manger, and by his growling and snapping prevented the
    oxen from eating the hay which had been placed for them. “What a
    selfish Dog!” said one of them to his companions; “he cannot eat the
    hay himself, and yet refuses to allow those to eat who can.”

    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees

    A HEAVY WAGON was being dragged along a country lane by a team of Oxen.
    The Axle-trees groaned and creaked terribly; whereupon the Oxen,
    turning round, thus addressed the wheels: “Hullo there! why do you make
    so much noise? We bear all the labor, and we, not you, ought to cry
    out.”

    Those who suffer most cry out the least.

    The Farmer and the Cranes

    SOME CRANES made their feeding grounds on some plowlands newly sown
    with wheat. For a long time the Farmer, brandishing an empty sling,
    chased them away by the terror he inspired; but when the birds found
    that the sling was only swung in the air, they ceased to take any
    notice of it and would not move. The Farmer, on seeing this, charged
    his sling with stones, and killed a great number. The remaining birds
    at once forsook his fields, crying to each other, “It is time for us to
    be off to Liliput: for this man is no longer content to scare us, but
    begins to show us in earnest what he can do.”

    If words suffice not, blows must follow.

    The Sick Lion

    A LION, unable from old age and infirmities to provide himself with
    food by force, resolved to do so by artifice. He returned to his den,
    and lying down there, pretended to be sick, taking care that his
    sickness should be publicly known. The beasts expressed their sorrow,
    and came one by one to his den, where the Lion devoured them. After
    many of the beasts had thus disappeared, the Fox discovered the trick
    and presenting himself to the Lion, stood on the outside of the cave,
    at a respectful distance, and asked him how he was. “I am very
    middling,” replied the Lion, “but why do you stand without? Pray enter
    within to talk with me.” “No, thank you,” said the Fox. “I notice that
    there are many prints of feet entering your cave, but I see no trace of
    any returning.”

    He is wise who is warned by the misfortunes of others.

    The Bear and the Two Travelers

    TWO MEN were traveling together, when a Bear suddenly met them on their
    path. One of them climbed up quickly into a tree and concealed himself
    in the branches. The other, seeing that he must be attacked, fell flat
    on the ground, and when the Bear came up and felt him with his snout,
    and smelt him all over, he held his breath, and feigned the appearance
    of death as much as he could. The Bear soon left him, for it is said he
    will not touch a dead body. When he was quite gone, the other Traveler
    descended from the tree, and jocularly inquired of his friend what it
    was the Bear had whispered in his ear. “He gave me this advice,” his
    companion replied. “Never travel with a friend who deserts you at the
    approach of danger.”

    Misfortune tests the sincerity of friends.

    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail

    A FOX caught in a trap escaped, but in so doing lost his tail.
    Thereafter, feeling his life a burden from the shame and ridicule to
    which he was exposed, he schemed to convince all the other Foxes that
    being tailless was much more attractive, thus making up for his own
    deprivation. He assembled a good many Foxes and publicly advised them
    to cut off their tails, saying that they would not only look much
    better without them, but that they would get rid of the weight of the
    brush, which was a very great inconvenience. One of them interrupting
    him said, “If you had not yourself lost your tail, my friend, you would
    not thus counsel us.”

    The Cat and the Cock

    A CAT caught a Cock, and pondered how he might find a reasonable excuse
    for eating him. He accused him of being a nuisance to men by crowing in
    the nighttime and not permitting them to sleep. The Cock defended
    himself by saying that he did this for the benefit of men, that they
    might rise in time for their labours. The Cat replied, “Although you
    abound in specious apologies, I shall not remain supperless;” and he
    made a meal of him.

    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

    ONCE UPON A TIME a Wolf resolved to disguise his appearance in order to
    secure food more easily. Encased in the skin of a sheep, he pastured
    with the flock deceiving the shepherd by his costume. In the evening he
    was shut up by the shepherd in the fold; the gate was closed, and the
    entrance made thoroughly secure. But the shepherd, returning to the
    fold during the night to obtain meat for the next day, mistakenly
    caught up the Wolf instead of a sheep, and killed him instantly.

    Harm seek, harm find.

    The Goat and the Goatherd

    A GOATHERD had sought to bring back a stray goat to his flock. He
    whistled and sounded his horn in vain; the straggler paid no attention
    to the summons. At last the Goatherd threw a stone, and breaking its
    horn, begged the Goat not to tell his master. The Goat replied, “Why,
    you silly fellow, the horn will speak though I be silent.”

    Do not attempt to hide things which cannot be hid.

    The Boasting Traveler

    A MAN who had traveled in foreign lands boasted very much, on returning
    to his own country, of the many wonderful and heroic feats he had
    performed in the different places he had visited. Among other things,
    he said that when he was at Rhodes he had leaped to such a distance
    that no man of his day could leap anywhere near him as to that, there
    were in Rhodes many persons who saw him do it and whom he could call as
    witnesses. One of the bystanders interrupted him, saying: “Now, my good
    man, if this be all true there is no need of witnesses. Suppose this to
    be Rhodes, and leap for us.”

    The Lion in Love

    A LION demanded the daughter of a woodcutter in marriage. The Father,
    unwilling to grant, and yet afraid to refuse his request, hit upon this
    expedient to rid himself of his importunities. He expressed his
    willingness to accept the Lion as the suitor of his daughter on one
    condition: that he should allow him to extract his teeth, and cut off
    his claws, as his daughter was fearfully afraid of both. The Lion
    cheerfully assented to the proposal. But when the toothless, clawless
    Lion returned to repeat his request, the Woodman, no longer afraid, set
    upon him with his club, and drove him away into the forest.

    The Miser

    A MISER sold all that he had and bought a lump of gold, which he buried
    in a hole in the ground by the side of an old wall and went to look at
    daily. One of his workmen observed his frequent visits to the spot and
    decided to watch his movements. He soon discovered the secret of the
    hidden treasure, and digging down, came to the lump of gold, and stole
    it. The Miser, on his next visit, found the hole empty and began to
    tear his hair and to make loud lamentations. A neighbor, seeing him
    overcome with grief and learning the cause, said, “Pray do not grieve
    so; but go and take a stone, and place it in the hole, and fancy that
    the gold is still lying there. It will do you quite the same service;
    for when the gold was there, you had it not, as you did not make the
    slightest use of it.”

    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat

    A young Pig was shut up in a fold-yard with a Goat and a Sheep. On one
    occasion the shepherd laid hold of him, when he grunted, and squeaked,
    and resisted violently. The Sheep and the Goat complained of his
    distressing cries, and said, “He often handles us, and we do not cry
    out.” To this he replied, “Your handling and mine are very different
    things. He catches you only for your wool, or your milk, but he lays
    hold on me for my very life.”

    The Boy and the Filberts

    A BOY put his hand into a pitcher full of filberts. He grasped as many
    as he could possibly hold, but when he tried to pull out his hand, he
    was prevented from doing so by the neck of the pitcher. Unwilling to
    lose his filberts, and yet unable to withdraw his hand, he burst into
    tears and bitterly lamented his disappointment. A bystander said to
    him, “Be satisfied with half the quantity, and you will readily draw
    out your hand.”

    Do not attempt too much at once.

    The Frogs Asking for a King

    THE FROGS, grieved at having no established Ruler, sent ambassadors to
    Jupiter entreating for a King. Perceiving their simplicity, he cast
    down a huge log into the lake. The Frogs were terrified at the splash
    occasioned by its fall and hid themselves in the depths of the pool.
    But as soon as they realized that the huge log was motionless, they
    swam again to the top of the water, dismissed their fears, climbed up,
    and began squatting on it in contempt. After some time they began to
    think themselves ill-treated in the appointment of so inert a Ruler,
    and sent a second deputation to Jupiter to pray that he would set over
    them another sovereign. He then gave them an Eel to govern them. When
    the Frogs discovered his easy good nature, they sent yet a third time
    to Jupiter to beg him to choose for them still another King. Jupiter,
    displeased with all their complaints, sent a Heron, who preyed upon the
    Frogs day by day till there were none left to croak upon the lake.

    The Laborer and the Snake

    A SNAKE, having made his hole close to the porch of a cottage,
    inflicted a mortal bite on the Cottager’s infant son. Grieving over his
    loss, the Father resolved to kill the Snake. The next day, when it came
    out of its hole for food, he took up his axe, but by swinging too
    hastily, missed its head and cut off only the end of its tail. After
    some time the Cottager, afraid that the Snake would bite him also,
    endeavored to make peace, and placed some bread and salt in the hole.
    The Snake, slightly hissing, said: “There can henceforth be no peace
    between us; for whenever I see you I shall remember the loss of my
    tail, and whenever you see me you will be thinking of the death of your
    son.”

    No one truly forgets injuries in the presence of him who caused the
    injury.

    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox

    A LION, fatigued by the heat of a summer’s day, fell fast asleep in his
    den. A Mouse ran over his mane and ears and woke him from his slumbers.
    He rose up and shook himself in great wrath, and searched every corner
    of his den to find the Mouse. A Fox seeing him said: “A fine Lion you
    are, to be frightened of a Mouse.” “’Tis not the Mouse I fear,” said
    the Lion; “I resent his familiarity and ill-breeding.”

    Little liberties are great offenses.

    The Horse and Groom

    A GROOM used to spend whole days in currycombing and rubbing down his
    Horse, but at the same time stole his oats and sold them for his own
    profit. “Alas!” said the Horse, “if you really wish me to be in good
    condition, you should groom me less, and feed me more.”

    The Ass and the Mule

    A MULETEER set forth on a journey, driving before him an Ass and a
    Mule, both well laden. The Ass, as long as he traveled along the plain,
    carried his load with ease, but when he began to ascend the steep path
    of the mountain, felt his load to be more than he could bear. He
    entreated his companion to relieve him of a small portion, that he
    might carry home the rest; but the Mule paid no attention to the
    request. The Ass shortly afterwards fell down dead under his burden.
    Not knowing what else to do in so wild a region, the Muleteer placed
    upon the Mule the load carried by the Ass in addition to his own, and
    at the top of all placed the hide of the Ass, after he had skinned him.
    The Mule, groaning beneath his heavy burden, said to himself: “I am
    treated according to my deserts. If I had only been willing to assist
    the Ass a little in his need, I should not now be bearing, together
    with his burden, himself as well.”

    The Ass and the Lapdog

    A MAN had an Ass, and a Maltese Lapdog, a very great beauty. The Ass
    was left in a stable and had plenty of oats and hay to eat, just as any
    other Ass would. The Lapdog knew many tricks and was a great favourite
    with his master, who often fondled him and seldom went out to dine
    without bringing him home some tidbit to eat. The Ass, on the contrary,
    had much work to do in grinding the corn-mill and in carrying wood from
    the forest or burdens from the farm. He often lamented his own hard
    fate and contrasted it with the luxury and idleness of the Lapdog, till
    at last one day he broke his cords and halter, and galloped into his
    master’s house, kicking up his heels without measure, and frisking and
    fawning as well as he could. He next tried to jump about his master as
    he had seen the Lapdog do, but he broke the table and smashed all the
    dishes upon it to atoms. He then attempted to lick his master, and
    jumped upon his back. The servants, hearing the strange hubbub and
    perceiving the danger of their master, quickly relieved him, and drove
    out the Ass to his stable with kicks and clubs and cuffs. The Ass, as
    he returned to his stall beaten nearly to death, thus lamented: “I have
    brought it all on myself! Why could I not have been contented to labor
    with my companions, and not wish to be idle all the day like that
    useless little Lapdog!”

    The Oxen and the Butchers

    THE OXEN once upon a time sought to destroy the Butchers, who practiced
    a trade destructive to their race. They assembled on a certain day to
    carry out their purpose, and sharpened their horns for the contest. But
    one of them who was exceedingly old (for many a field had he plowed)
    thus spoke: “These Butchers, it is true, slaughter us, but they do so
    with skillful hands, and with no unnecessary pain. If we get rid of
    them, we shall fall into the hands of unskillful operators, and thus
    suffer a double death: for you may be assured, that though all the
    Butchers should perish, yet will men never want beef.”

    Do not be in a hurry to change one evil for another.

    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf

    A SHEPHERD-BOY, who watched a flock of sheep near a village, brought
    out the villagers three or four times by crying out, “Wolf! Wolf!” and
    when his neighbors came to help him, laughed at them for their pains.
    The Wolf, however, did truly come at last. The Shepherd-boy, now really
    alarmed, shouted in an agony of terror: “Pray, do come and help me; the
    Wolf is killing the sheep;” but no one paid any heed to his cries, nor
    rendered any assistance. The Wolf, having no cause of fear, at his
    leisure lacerated or destroyed the whole flock.

    There is no believing a liar, even when he speaks the truth.

    The Boys and the Frogs

    SOME BOYS, playing near a pond, saw a number of Frogs in the water and
    began to pelt them with stones. They killed several of them, when one
    of the Frogs, lifting his head out of the water, cried out: “Pray stop,
    my boys: what is sport to you, is death to us.”

    The Salt Merchant and His Ass

    A PEDDLER drove his Ass to the seashore to buy salt. His road home lay
    across a stream into which his Ass, making a false step, fell by
    accident and rose up again with his load considerably lighter, as the
    water melted the sack. The Peddler retraced his steps and refilled his
    panniers with a larger quantity of salt than before. When he came again
    to the stream, the Ass fell down on purpose in the same spot, and,
    regaining his feet with the weight of his load much diminished, brayed
    triumphantly as if he had obtained what he desired. The Peddler saw
    through his trick and drove him for the third time to the coast, where
    he bought a cargo of sponges instead of salt. The Ass, again playing
    the fool, fell down on purpose when he reached the stream, but the
    sponges became swollen with water, greatly increasing his load. And
    thus his trick recoiled on him, for he now carried on his back a double
    burden.

    The Mischievous Dog

    A DOG used to run up quietly to the heels of everyone he met, and to
    bite them without notice. His master suspended a bell about his neck so
    that the Dog might give notice of his presence wherever he went.
    Thinking it a mark of distinction, the Dog grew proud of his bell and
    went tinkling it all over the marketplace. One day an old hound said to
    him: “Why do you make such an exhibition of yourself? That bell that
    you carry is not, believe me, any order of merit, but on the contrary a
    mark of disgrace, a public notice to all men to avoid you as an ill
    mannered dog.”

    Notoriety is often mistaken for fame.

    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats

    A GOATHERD, driving his flock from their pasture at eventide, found
    some Wild Goats mingled among them, and shut them up together with his
    own for the night. The next day it snowed very hard, so that he could
    not take the herd to their usual feeding places, but was obliged to
    keep them in the fold. He gave his own goats just sufficient food to
    keep them alive, but fed the strangers more abundantly in the hope of
    enticing them to stay with him and of making them his own. When the
    thaw set in, he led them all out to feed, and the Wild Goats scampered
    away as fast as they could to the mountains. The Goatherd scolded them
    for their ingratitude in leaving him, when during the storm he had
    taken more care of them than of his own herd. One of them, turning
    about, said to him: “That is the very reason why we are so cautious;
    for if you yesterday treated us better than the Goats you have had so
    long, it is plain also that if others came after us, you would in the
    same manner prefer them to ourselves.”

    Old friends cannot with impunity be sacrificed for new ones.

    The Man and His Two Sweethearts

    A MIDDLE-AGED MAN, whose hair had begun to turn gray, courted two women
    at the same time. One of them was young, and the other well advanced in
    years. The elder woman, ashamed to be courted by a man younger than
    herself, made a point, whenever her admirer visited her, to pull out
    some portion of his black hairs. The younger, on the contrary, not
    wishing to become the wife of an old man, was equally zealous in
    removing every gray hair she could find. Thus it came to pass that
    between them both he very soon found that he had not a hair left on his
    head.

    Those who seek to please everybody please nobody.

    The Sick Stag

    A SICK STAG lay down in a quiet corner of its pasture-ground. His
    companions came in great numbers to inquire after his health, and each
    one helped himself to a share of the food which had been placed for his
    use; so that he died, not from his sickness, but from the failure of
    the means of living.

    Evil companions bring more hurt than profit.

    The Boy and the Nettles

    A BOY was stung by a Nettle. He ran home and told his Mother, saying,
    “Although it hurts me very much, I only touched it gently.” “That was
    just why it stung you,” said his Mother. “The next time you touch a
    Nettle, grasp it boldly, and it will be soft as silk to your hand, and
    not in the least hurt you.”

    Whatever you do, do with all your might.

    The Astronomer

    AN ASTRONOMER used to go out at night to observe the stars. One
    evening, as he wandered through the suburbs with his whole attention
    fixed on the sky, he fell accidentally into a deep well. While he
    lamented and bewailed his sores and bruises, and cried loudly for help,
    a neighbor ran to the well, and learning what had happened said: “Hark
    ye, old fellow, why, in striving to pry into what is in heaven, do you
    not manage to see what is on earth?”

    The Wolves and the Sheep

    “WHY SHOULD there always be this fear and slaughter between us?” said
    the Wolves to the Sheep. “Those evil-disposed Dogs have much to answer
    for. They always bark whenever we approach you and attack us before we
    have done any harm. If you would only dismiss them from your heels,
    there might soon be treaties of peace and reconciliation between us.”
    The Sheep, poor silly creatures, were easily beguiled and dismissed the
    Dogs, whereupon the Wolves destroyed the unguarded flock at their own
    pleasure.

    The Cat and the Birds

    A CAT, hearing that the Birds in a certain aviary were ailing dressed
    himself up as a physician, and, taking his cane and a bag of
    instruments becoming his profession, went to call on them. He knocked
    at the door and inquired of the inmates how they all did, saying that
    if they were ill, he would be happy to prescribe for them and cure
    them. They replied, “We are all very well, and shall continue so, if
    you will only be good enough to go away, and leave us as we are.”

    The Vain Jackdaw

    JUPITER DETERMINED, it is said, to create a sovereign over the birds,
    and made proclamation that on a certain day they should all present
    themselves before him, when he would himself choose the most beautiful
    among them to be king. The Jackdaw, knowing his own ugliness, searched
    through the woods and fields, and collected the feathers which had
    fallen from the wings of his companions, and stuck them in all parts of
    his body, hoping thereby to make himself the most beautiful of all.
    When the appointed day arrived, and the birds had assembled before
    Jupiter, the Jackdaw also made his appearance in his many feathered
    finery. But when Jupiter proposed to make him king because of the
    beauty of his plumage, the birds indignantly protested, and each
    plucked from him his own feathers, leaving the Jackdaw nothing but a
    Jackdaw.

    The Kid and the Wolf

    A KID standing on the roof of a house, out of harm’s way, saw a Wolf
    passing by and immediately began to taunt and revile him. The Wolf,
    looking up, said, “Sirrah! I hear thee: yet it is not thou who mockest
    me, but the roof on which thou art standing.”

    Time and place often give the advantage to the weak over the strong.

    The Old Woman and the Physician

    AN OLD WOMAN having lost the use of her eyes, called in a Physician to
    heal them, and made this bargain with him in the presence of witnesses:
    that if he should cure her blindness, he should receive from her a sum
    of money; but if her infirmity remained, she should give him nothing.
    This agreement being made, the Physician, time after time, applied his
    salve to her eyes, and on every visit took something away, stealing all
    her property little by little. And when he had got all she had, he
    healed her and demanded the promised payment. The Old Woman, when she
    recovered her sight and saw none of her goods in her house, would give
    him nothing. The Physician insisted on his claim, and, as she still
    refused, summoned her before the Judge. The Old Woman, standing up in
    the Court, argued: “This man here speaks the truth in what he says; for
    I did promise to give him a sum of money if I should recover my sight:
    but if I continued blind, I was to give him nothing. Now he declares
    that I am healed. I on the contrary affirm that I am still blind; for
    when I lost the use of my eyes, I saw in my house various chattels and
    valuable goods: but now, though he swears I am cured of my blindness, I
    am not able to see a single thing in it.”

    The Ox and the Frog

    AN OX drinking at a pool trod on a brood of young frogs and crushed one
    of them to death. The Mother coming up, and missing one of her sons,
    inquired of his brothers what had become of him. “He is dead, dear
    Mother; for just now a very huge beast with four great feet came to the
    pool and crushed him to death with his cloven heel.” The Frog, puffing
    herself out, inquired, “if the beast was as big as that in size.”
    “Cease, Mother, to puff yourself out,” said her son, “and do not be
    angry; for you would, I assure you, sooner burst than successfully
    imitate the hugeness of that monster.”

    The Farmer and His Sons

    A FATHER, being on the point of death, wished to be sure that his sons
    would give the same attention to his farm as he himself had given it.
    He called them to his bedside and said, “My sons, there is a great
    treasure hid in one of my vineyards.” The sons, after his death, took
    their spades and mattocks and carefully dug over every portion of their
    land. They found no treasure, but the vines repaid their labor by an
    extraordinary and superabundant crop.

    The Heifer and the Ox

    A HEIFER saw an Ox hard at work harnessed to a plow, and tormented him
    with reflections on his unhappy fate in being compelled to labor.
    Shortly afterwards, at the harvest festival, the owner released the Ox
    from his yoke, but bound the Heifer with cords and led him away to the
    altar to be slain in honour of the occasion. The Ox saw what was being
    done, and said with a smile to the Heifer: “For this you were allowed
    to live in idleness, because you were presently to be sacrificed.”

    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle

    TWO GAME COCKS were fiercely fighting for the mastery of the farmyard.
    One at last put the other to flight. The vanquished Cock skulked away
    and hid himself in a quiet corner, while the conqueror, flying up to a
    high wall, flapped his wings and crowed exultingly with all his might.
    An Eagle sailing through the air pounced upon him and carried him off
    in his talons. The vanquished Cock immediately came out of his corner,
    and ruled henceforth with undisputed mastery.

    Pride goes before destruction.

    The Charger and the Miller

    A CHARGER, feeling the infirmities of age, was sent to work in a mill
    instead of going out to battle. But when he was compelled to grind
    instead of serving in the wars, he bewailed his change of fortune and
    called to mind his former state, saying, “Ah! Miller, I had indeed to
    go campaigning before, but I was barbed from counter to tail, and a man
    went along to groom me; and now I cannot understand what ailed me to
    prefer the mill before the battle.” “Forbear,” said the Miller to him,
    “harping on what was of yore, for it is the common lot of mortals to
    sustain the ups and downs of fortune.”

    The Fox and the Monkey

    A MONKEY once danced in an assembly of the Beasts, and so pleased them
    all by his performance that they elected him their King. A Fox, envying
    him the honour, discovered a piece of meat lying in a trap, and leading
    the Monkey to the place where it was, said that she had found a store,
    but had not used it, she had kept it for him as treasure trove of his
    kingdom, and counseled him to lay hold of it. The Monkey approached
    carelessly and was caught in the trap; and on his accusing the Fox of
    purposely leading him into the snare, she replied, “O Monkey, and are
    you, with such a mind as yours, going to be King over the Beasts?”

    The Horse and His Rider

    A HORSE SOLDIER took the utmost pains with his charger. As long as the
    war lasted, he looked upon him as his fellow-helper in all emergencies
    and fed him carefully with hay and corn. But when the war was over, he
    only allowed him chaff to eat and made him carry heavy loads of wood,
    subjecting him to much slavish drudgery and ill-treatment. War was
    again proclaimed, however, and when the trumpet summoned him to his
    standard, the Soldier put on his charger its military trappings, and
    mounted, being clad in his heavy coat of mail. The Horse fell down
    straightway under the weight, no longer equal to the burden, and said
    to his master, “You must now go to the war on foot, for you have
    transformed me from a Horse into an Ass; and how can you expect that I
    can again turn in a moment from an Ass to a Horse?”

    The Belly and the Members

    THE MEMBERS of the Body rebelled against the Belly, and said, “Why
    should we be perpetually engaged in administering to your wants, while
    you do nothing but take your rest, and enjoy yourself in luxury and
    self-indulgence?” The Members carried out their resolve and refused
    their assistance to the Belly. The whole Body quickly became
    debilitated, and the hands, feet, mouth, and eyes, when too late,
    repented of their folly.

    The Widow and Her Little Maidens

    A WIDOW who was fond of cleaning had two little maidens to wait on her.
    She was in the habit of waking them early in the morning, at cockcrow.
    The maidens, aggravated by such excessive labor, resolved to kill the
    cock who roused their mistress so early. When they had done this, they
    found that they had only prepared for themselves greater troubles, for
    their mistress, no longer hearing the hour from the cock, woke them up
    to their work in the middle of the night.

    The Vine and the Goat

    A VINE was luxuriant in the time of vintage with leaves and grapes. A
    Goat, passing by, nibbled its young tendrils and its leaves. The Vine
    addressed him and said: “Why do you thus injure me without a cause, and
    crop my leaves? Is there no young grass left? But I shall not have to
    wait long for my just revenge; for if you now should crop my leaves,
    and cut me down to my root, I shall provide the wine to pour over you
    when you are led as a victim to the sacrifice.”

    Jupiter and the Monkey

    JUPITER ISSUED a proclamation to all the beasts of the forest and
    promised a royal reward to the one whose offspring should be deemed the
    handsomest. The Monkey came with the rest and presented, with all a
    mother’s tenderness, a flat-nosed, hairless, ill-featured young Monkey
    as a candidate for the promised reward. A general laugh saluted her on
    the presentation of her son. She resolutely said, “I know not whether
    Jupiter will allot the prize to my son, but this I do know, that he is
    at least in the eyes of me his mother, the dearest, handsomest, and
    most beautiful of all.”

    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons

    THE PIGEONS, terrified by the appearance of a Kite, called upon the
    Hawk to defend them. He at once consented. When they had admitted him
    into the cote, they found that he made more havoc and slew a larger
    number of them in one day than the Kite could pounce upon in a whole
    year.

    Avoid a remedy that is worse than the disease.

    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat

    THE DOLPHINS and Whales waged a fierce war with each other. When the
    battle was at its height, a Sprat lifted its head out of the waves and
    said that he would reconcile their differences if they would accept him
    as an umpire. One of the Dolphins replied, “We would far rather be
    destroyed in our battle with each other than admit any interference
    from you in our affairs.”

    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice

    A SWALLOW, returning from abroad and especially fond of dwelling with
    men, built herself a nest in the wall of a Court of Justice and there
    hatched seven young birds. A Serpent gliding past the nest from its
    hole in the wall ate up the young unfledged nestlings. The Swallow,
    finding her nest empty, lamented greatly and exclaimed: “Woe to me a
    stranger! that in this place where all others’ rights are protected, I
    alone should suffer wrong.”

    The Two Pots

    A RIVER carried down in its stream two Pots, one made of earthenware
    and the other of brass. The Earthen Pot said to the Brass Pot, “Pray
    keep at a distance and do not come near me, for if you touch me ever so
    slightly, I shall be broken in pieces, and besides, I by no means wish
    to come near you.”

    Equals make the best friends.

    The Shepherd and the Wolf

    A SHEPHERD once found the whelp of a Wolf and brought it up, and after
    a while taught it to steal lambs from the neighboring flocks. The Wolf,
    having shown himself an apt pupil, said to the Shepherd, “Since you
    have taught me to steal, you must keep a sharp lookout, or you will
    lose some of your own flock.”

    The Crab and Its Mother

    A CRAB said to her son, “Why do you walk so one-sided, my child? It is
    far more becoming to go straight forward.” The young Crab replied:
    “Quite true, dear Mother; and if you will show me the straight way, I
    will promise to walk in it.” The Mother tried in vain, and submitted
    without remonstrance to the reproof of her child.

    Example is more powerful than precept.

    The Father and His Two Daughters

    A MAN had two daughters, the one married to a gardener, and the other
    to a tile-maker. After a time he went to the daughter who had married
    the gardener, and inquired how she was and how all things went with
    her. She said, “All things are prospering with me, and I have only one
    wish, that there may be a heavy fall of rain, in order that the plants
    may be well watered.” Not long after, he went to the daughter who had
    married the tilemaker, and likewise inquired of her how she fared; she
    replied, “I want for nothing, and have only one wish, that the dry
    weather may continue, and the sun shine hot and bright, so that the
    bricks might be dried.” He said to her, “If your sister wishes for
    rain, and you for dry weather, with which of the two am I to join my
    wishes?”

    The Thief and His Mother

    A BOY stole a lesson-book from one of his schoolfellows and took it
    home to his Mother. She not only abstained from beating him, but
    encouraged him. He next time stole a cloak and brought it to her, and
    she again commended him. The Youth, advanced to adulthood, proceeded to
    steal things of still greater value. At last he was caught in the very
    act, and having his hands bound behind him, was led away to the place
    of public execution. His Mother followed in the crowd and violently
    beat her breast in sorrow, whereupon the young man said, “I wish to say
    something to my Mother in her ear.” She came close to him, and he
    quickly seized her ear with his teeth and bit it off. The Mother
    upbraided him as an unnatural child, whereon he replied, “Ah! if you
    had beaten me when I first stole and brought to you that lesson-book, I
    should not have come to this, nor have been thus led to a disgraceful
    death.”

    The Old Man and Death

    AN OLD MAN was employed in cutting wood in the forest, and, in carrying
    the faggots to the city for sale one day, became very wearied with his
    long journey. He sat down by the wayside, and throwing down his load,
    besought “Death” to come. “Death” immediately appeared in answer to his
    summons and asked for what reason he had called him. The Old Man
    hurriedly replied, “That, lifting up the load, you may place it again
    upon my shoulders.”

    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble

    A FIR-TREE said boastingly to the Bramble, “You are useful for nothing
    at all; while I am everywhere used for roofs and houses.” The Bramble
    answered: “You poor creature, if you would only call to mind the axes
    and saws which are about to hew you down, you would have reason to wish
    that you had grown up a Bramble, not a Fir-Tree.”

    Better poverty without care, than riches with.

    The Æthiop

    THE PURCHASER of a black servant was persuaded that the color of his
    skin arose from dirt contracted through the neglect of his former
    masters. On bringing him home he resorted to every means of cleaning,
    and subjected the man to incessant scrubbings. The servant caught a
    severe cold, but he never changed his color or complexion.

    What’s bred in the bone will stick to the flesh.

    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk

    A MOUSE who always lived on the land, by an unlucky chance formed an
    intimate acquaintance with a Frog, who lived for the most part in the
    water. The Frog, one day intent on mischief, bound the foot of the
    Mouse tightly to his own. Thus joined together, the Frog first of all
    led his friend the Mouse to the meadow where they were accustomed to
    find their food. After this, he gradually led him towards the pool in
    which he lived, until reaching the very brink, he suddenly jumped in,
    dragging the Mouse with him. The Frog enjoyed the water amazingly, and
    swam croaking about, as if he had done a good deed. The unhappy Mouse
    was soon suffocated by the water, and his dead body floated about on
    the surface, tied to the foot of the Frog. A Hawk observed it, and,
    pouncing upon it with his talons, carried it aloft. The Frog, being
    still fastened to the leg of the Mouse, was also carried off a
    prisoner, and was eaten by the Hawk.

    Harm hatch, harm catch.

    The Fisherman and His Nets

    A FISHERMAN, engaged in his calling, made a very successful cast and
    captured a great haul of fish. He managed by a skillful handling of his
    net to retain all the large fish and to draw them to the shore; but he
    could not prevent the smaller fish from falling back through the meshes
    of the net into the sea.

    The Wolf and the Sheep

    A WOLF, sorely wounded and bitten by dogs, lay sick and maimed in his
    lair. Being in want of food, he called to a Sheep who was passing, and
    asked him to fetch some water from a stream flowing close beside him.
    “For,” he said, “if you will bring me drink, I will find means to
    provide myself with meat.” “Yes,” said the Sheep, “if I should bring
    you the draught, you would doubtless make me provide the meat also.”

    Hypocritical speeches are easily seen through.

    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar

    AN OLD WOMAN found an empty jar which had lately been full of prime old
    wine and which still retained the fragrant smell of its former
    contents. She greedily placed it several times to her nose, and drawing
    it backwards and forwards said, “O most delicious! How nice must the
    Wine itself have been, when it leaves behind in the very vessel which
    contained it so sweet a perfume!”

    The memory of a good deed lives.

    The Man Bitten by a Dog

    A MAN who had been bitten by a Dog went about in quest of someone who
    might heal him. A friend, meeting him and learning what he wanted,
    said, “If you would be cured, take a piece of bread, and dip it in the
    blood from your wound, and go and give it to the Dog that bit you.” The
    Man who had been bitten laughed at this advice and said, “Why? If I
    should do so, it would be as if I should beg every Dog in the town to
    bite me.”

    Benefits bestowed upon the evil-disposed increase their means of
    injuring you.

    The Huntsman and the Fisherman

    A HUNTSMAN, returning with his dogs from the field, fell in by chance
    with a Fisherman who was bringing home a basket well laden with fish.
    The Huntsman wished to have the fish, and their owner experienced an
    equal longing for the contents of the game-bag. They quickly agreed to
    exchange the produce of their day’s sport. Each was so well pleased
    with his bargain that they made for some time the same exchange day
    after day. Finally a neighbor said to them, “If you go on in this way,
    you will soon destroy by frequent use the pleasure of your exchange,
    and each will again wish to retain the fruits of his own sport.”

    Abstain and enjoy.

    The Fox and the Crow

    A CROW having stolen a bit of meat, perched in a tree and held it in
    her beak. A Fox, seeing this, longed to possess the meat himself, and
    by a wily stratagem succeeded. “How handsome is the Crow,” he
    exclaimed, “in the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her
    complexion! Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would
    deservedly be considered the Queen of Birds!” This he said deceitfully;
    but the Crow, anxious to refute the reflection cast upon her voice, set
    up a loud caw and dropped the flesh. The Fox quickly picked it up, and
    thus addressed the Crow: “My good Crow, your voice is right enough, but
    your wit is wanting.”

    The Widow and the Sheep

    A CERTAIN poor widow had one solitary Sheep. At shearing time, wishing
    to take his fleece and to avoid expense, she sheared him herself, but
    used the shears so unskillfully that with the fleece she sheared the
    flesh. The Sheep, writhing with pain, said, “Why do you hurt me so,
    Mistress? What weight can my blood add to the wool? If you want my
    flesh, there is the butcher, who will kill me in an instant; but if you
    want my fleece and wool, there is the shearer, who will shear and not
    hurt me.”

    The least outlay is not always the greatest gain.

    The Playful Ass

    AN ASS climbed up to the roof of a building, and frisking about there,
    broke in the tiling. The owner went up after him and quickly drove him
    down, beating him severely with a thick wooden cudgel. The Ass said,
    “Why, I saw the Monkey do this very thing yesterday, and you all
    laughed heartily, as if it afforded you very great amusement.”

    The Stag in the Ox-Stall

    A STAG, roundly chased by the hounds and blinded by fear to the danger
    he was running into, took shelter in a farmyard and hid himself in a
    shed among the oxen. An Ox gave him this kindly warning: “O unhappy
    creature! why should you thus, of your own accord, incur destruction
    and trust yourself in the house of your enemy?” The Stag replied: “Only
    allow me, friend, to stay where I am, and I will undertake to find some
    favourable opportunity of effecting my escape.” At the approach of the
    evening the herdsman came to feed his cattle, but did not see the Stag;
    and even the farm-bailiff with several laborers passed through the shed
    and failed to notice him. The Stag, congratulating himself on his
    safety, began to express his sincere thanks to the Oxen who had kindly
    helped him in the hour of need. One of them again answered him: “We
    indeed wish you well, but the danger is not over. There is one other
    yet to pass through the shed, who has as it were a hundred eyes, and
    until he has come and gone, your life is still in peril.” At that
    moment the master himself entered, and having had to complain that his
    oxen had not been properly fed, he went up to their racks and cried
    out: “Why is there such a scarcity of fodder? There is not half enough
    straw for them to lie on. Those lazy fellows have not even swept the
    cobwebs away.” While he thus examined everything in turn, he spied the
    tips of the antlers of the Stag peeping out of the straw. Then
    summoning his laborers, he ordered that the Stag should be seized and
    killed.

    The Two Dogs

    A MAN had two dogs: a Hound, trained to assist him in his sports, and a
    Housedog, taught to watch the house. When he returned home after a good
    day’s sport, he always gave the Housedog a large share of his spoil.
    The Hound, feeling much aggrieved at this, reproached his companion,
    saying, “It is very hard to have all this labor, while you, who do not
    assist in the chase, luxuriate on the fruits of my exertions.” The
    Housedog replied, “Do not blame me, my friend, but find fault with the
    master, who has not taught me to labor, but to depend for subsistence
    on the labor of others.”

    Children are not to be blamed for the faults of their parents.

    The Wild Ass and the Lion

    A WILD ASS and a Lion entered into an alliance so that they might
    capture the beasts of the forest with greater ease. The Lion agreed to
    assist the Wild Ass with his strength, while the Wild Ass gave the Lion
    the benefit of his greater speed. When they had taken as many beasts as
    their necessities required, the Lion undertook to distribute the prey,
    and for this purpose divided it into three shares. “I will take the
    first share,” he said, “because I am King: and the second share, as a
    partner with you in the chase: and the third share (believe me) will be
    a source of great evil to you, unless you willingly resign it to me,
    and set off as fast as you can.”

    Might makes right.

    The Lion and the Dolphin

    A LION roaming by the seashore saw a Dolphin lift up its head out of
    the waves, and suggested that they contract an alliance, saying that of
    all the animals they ought to be the best friends, since the one was
    the king of beasts on the earth, and the other was the sovereign ruler
    of all the inhabitants of the ocean. The Dolphin gladly consented to
    this request. Not long afterwards the Lion had a combat with a wild
    bull, and called on the Dolphin to help him. The Dolphin, though quite
    willing to give him assistance, was unable to do so, as he could not by
    any means reach the land. The Lion abused him as a traitor. The Dolphin
    replied, “Nay, my friend, blame not me, but Nature, which, while giving
    me the sovereignty of the sea, has quite denied me the power of living
    upon the land.”

    The Eagle and the Arrow

    AN EAGLE sat on a lofty rock, watching the movements of a Hare whom he
    sought to make his prey. An archer, who saw the Eagle from a place of
    concealment, took an accurate aim and wounded him mortally. The Eagle
    gave one look at the arrow that had entered his heart and saw in that
    single glance that its feathers had been furnished by himself. “It is a
    double grief to me,” he exclaimed, “that I should perish by an arrow
    feathered from my own wings.”

    The Sick Kite

    A KITE, sick unto death, said to his mother: “O Mother! do not mourn,
    but at once invoke the gods that my life may be prolonged.” She
    replied, “Alas! my son, which of the gods do you think will pity you?
    Is there one whom you have not outraged by filching from their very
    altars a part of the sacrifice offered up to them?”

    We must make friends in prosperity if we would have their help in
    adversity.

    The Lion and the Boar

    ON A SUMMER DAY, when the great heat induced a general thirst among the
    beasts, a Lion and a Boar came at the same moment to a small well to
    drink. They fiercely disputed which of them should drink first, and
    were soon engaged in the agonies of a mortal combat. When they stopped
    suddenly to catch their breath for a fiercer renewal of the fight, they
    saw some Vultures waiting in the distance to feast on the one that
    should fall first. They at once made up their quarrel, saying, “It is
    better for us to make friends, than to become the food of Crows or
    Vultures.”

    The Mice in Council

    THE MICE summoned a council to decide how they might best devise means
    of warning themselves of the approach of their great enemy the Cat.
    Among the many plans suggested, the one that found most favour was the
    proposal to tie a bell to the neck of the Cat, so that the Mice, being
    warned by the sound of the tinkling, might run away and hide themselves
    in their holes at his approach. But when the Mice further debated who
    among them should thus “bell the Cat,” there was no one found to do it.

    The One-Eyed Doe

    A DOE blind in one eye was accustomed to graze as near to the edge of
    the cliff as she possibly could, in the hope of securing her greater
    safety. She turned her sound eye towards the land that she might get
    the earliest tidings of the approach of hunter or hound, and her
    injured eye towards the sea, from whence she entertained no
    anticipation of danger. Some boatmen sailing by saw her, and taking a
    successful aim, mortally wounded her. Yielding up her last breath, she
    gasped forth this lament: “O wretched creature that I am! to take such
    precaution against the land, and after all to find this seashore, to
    which I had come for safety, so much more perilous.”

    The Mice and the Weasels

    THE WEASELS and the Mice waged a perpetual war with each other, in
    which much blood was shed. The Weasels were always the victors. The
    Mice thought that the cause of their frequent defeats was that they had
    no leaders set apart from the general army to command them, and that
    they were exposed to dangers from lack of discipline. They therefore
    chose as leaders Mice that were most renowned for their family descent,
    strength, and counsel, as well as those most noted for their courage in
    the fight, so that they might be better marshaled in battle array and
    formed into troops, regiments, and battalions. When all this was done,
    and the army disciplined, and the herald Mouse had duly proclaimed war
    by challenging the Weasels, the newly chosen generals bound their heads
    with straws, that they might be more conspicuous to all their troops.
    Scarcely had the battle begun, when a great rout overwhelmed the Mice,
    who scampered off as fast as they could to their holes. The generals,
    not being able to get in on account of the ornaments on their heads,
    were all captured and eaten by the Weasels.

    The more honour the more danger.

    The Shepherd and the Sea

    A SHEPHERD, keeping watch over his sheep near the shore, saw the Sea
    very calm and smooth, and longed to make a voyage with a view to
    commerce. He sold all his flock, invested it in a cargo of dates, and
    set sail. But a very great tempest came on, and the ship being in
    danger of sinking, he threw all his merchandise overboard, and barely
    escaped with his life in the empty ship. Not long afterwards when
    someone passed by and observed the unruffled calm of the Sea, he
    interrupted him and said, “It is again in want of dates, and therefore
    looks quiet.”

    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion

    AN ASS and a Cock were in a straw-yard together when a Lion, desperate
    from hunger, approached the spot. He was about to spring upon the Ass,
    when the Cock (to the sound of whose voice the Lion, it is said, has a
    singular aversion) crowed loudly, and the Lion fled away as fast as he
    could. The Ass, observing his trepidation at the mere crowing of a Cock
    summoned courage to attack him, and galloped after him for that
    purpose. He had run no long distance, when the Lion, turning about,
    seized him and tore him to pieces.

    False confidence often leads into danger.

    The Rivers and the Sea

    THE RIVERS joined together to complain to the Sea, saying, “Why is it
    that when we flow into your tides so potable and sweet, you work in us
    such a change, and make us salty and unfit to drink?” The Sea,
    perceiving that they intended to throw the blame on him, said, “Pray
    cease to flow into me, and then you will not be made briny.”

    The Wild Boar and the Fox

    A WILD BOAR stood under a tree and rubbed his tusks against the trunk.
    A Fox passing by asked him why he thus sharpened his teeth when there
    was no danger threatening from either huntsman or hound. He replied, “I
    do it advisedly; for it would never do to have to sharpen my weapons
    just at the time I ought to be using them.”

    To be well prepared for war is the best guarantee of peace.

    The Milk-Woman and Her Pail

    A FARMER’S daughter was carrying her Pail of milk from the field to the
    farmhouse, when she fell a-musing. “The money for which this milk will
    be sold, will buy at least three hundred eggs. The eggs, allowing for
    all mishaps, will produce two hundred and fifty chickens. The chickens
    will become ready for the market when poultry will fetch the highest
    price, so that by the end of the year I shall have money enough from my
    share to buy a new gown. In this dress I will go to the Christmas
    parties, where all the young fellows will propose to me, but I will
    toss my head and refuse them every one.” At this moment she tossed her
    head in unison with her thoughts, when down fell the milk pail to the
    ground, and all her imaginary schemes perished in a moment.

    The Bee and Jupiter

    A BEE from Mount Hymettus, the queen of the hive, ascended to Olympus
    to present Jupiter some honey fresh from her combs. Jupiter, delighted
    with the offering of honey, promised to give whatever she should ask.
    She therefore besought him, saying, “Give me, I pray thee, a sting,
    that if any mortal shall approach to take my honey, I may kill him.”
    Jupiter was much displeased, for he loved the race of man, but could
    not refuse the request because of his promise. He thus answered the
    Bee: “You shall have your request, but it will be at the peril of your
    own life. For if you use your sting, it shall remain in the wound you
    make, and then you will die from the loss of it.”

    Evil wishes, like chickens, come home to roost.

    The Wolf and the Housedog

    A WOLF, meeting a big well-fed Mastiff with a wooden collar about his
    neck asked him who it was that fed him so well and yet compelled him to
    drag that heavy log about wherever he went. “The master,” he replied.
    Then said the Wolf: “May no friend of mine ever be in such a plight;
    for the weight of this chain is enough to spoil the appetite.”

    The Three Tradesmen

    A GREAT CITY was besieged, and its inhabitants were called together to
    consider the best means of protecting it from the enemy. A Bricklayer
    earnestly recommended bricks as affording the best material for an
    effective resistance. A Carpenter, with equal enthusiasm, proposed
    timber as a preferable method of defense. Upon which a Currier stood up
    and said, “Sirs, I differ from you altogether: there is no material for
    resistance equal to a covering of hides; and nothing so good as
    leather.”

    Every man for himself.

    The Ass Carrying the Image

    AN ASS once carried through the streets of a city a famous wooden
    Image, to be placed in one of its Temples. As he passed along, the
    crowd made lowly prostration before the Image. The Ass, thinking that
    they bowed their heads in token of respect for himself, bristled up
    with pride, gave himself airs, and refused to move another step. The
    driver, seeing him thus stop, laid his whip lustily about his shoulders
    and said, “O you perverse dull-head! it is not yet come to this, that
    men pay worship to an Ass.”

    They are not wise who give to themselves the credit due to others.

    The Master and His Dogs

    A CERTAIN MAN, detained by a storm in his country house, first of all
    killed his sheep, and then his goats, for the maintenance of his
    household. The storm still continuing, he was obliged to slaughter his
    yoke oxen for food. On seeing this, his Dogs took counsel together, and
    said, “It is time for us to be off, for if the master spare not his
    oxen, who work for his gain, how can we expect him to spare us?”

    He is not to be trusted as a friend who mistreats his own family.

    The Old Hound

    A HOUND, who in the days of his youth and strength had never yielded to
    any beast of the forest, encountered in his old age a boar in the
    chase. He seized him boldly by the ear, but could not retain his hold
    because of the decay of his teeth, so that the boar escaped. His
    master, quickly coming up, was very much disappointed, and fiercely
    abused the dog. The Hound looked up and said, “It was not my fault
    master: my spirit was as good as ever, but I could not help my
    infirmities. I rather deserve to be praised for what I have been, than
    to be blamed for what I am.”

    The Two Travelers and the Axe

    TWO MEN were journeying together. One of them picked up an axe that lay
    upon the path, and said, “I have found an axe.” “Nay, my friend,”
    replied the other, “do not say ‘I,’ but ‘We’ have found an axe.” They
    had not gone far before they saw the owner of the axe pursuing them,
    and he who had picked up the axe said, “We are undone.” “Nay,” replied
    the other, “keep to your first mode of speech, my friend; what you
    thought right then, think right now. Say ‘I,’ not ‘We’ are undone.”

    He who shares the danger ought to share the prize.

    The Old Lion

    A LION, worn out with years and powerless from disease, lay on the
    ground at the point of death. A Boar rushed upon him, and avenged with
    a stroke of his tusks a long-remembered injury. Shortly afterwards the
    Bull with his horns gored him as if he were an enemy. When the Ass saw
    that the huge beast could be assailed with impunity, he let drive at
    his forehead with his heels. The expiring Lion said, “I have
    reluctantly brooked the insults of the brave, but to be compelled to
    endure such treatment from thee, a disgrace to Nature, is indeed to die
    a double death.”

    The Wolf and the Shepherds

    A WOLF, passing by, saw some Shepherds in a hut eating a haunch of
    mutton for their dinner. Approaching them, he said, “What a clamor you
    would raise if I were to do as you are doing!”

    The Seaside Travelers

    SOME TRAVELERS, journeying along the seashore, climbed to the summit of
    a tall cliff, and looking over the sea, saw in the distance what they
    thought was a large ship. They waited in the hope of seeing it enter
    the harbor, but as the object on which they looked was driven nearer to
    shore by the wind, they found that it could at the most be a small
    boat, and not a ship. When however it reached the beach, they
    discovered that it was only a large faggot of sticks, and one of them
    said to his companions, “We have waited for no purpose, for after all
    there is nothing to see but a load of wood.”

    Our mere anticipations of life outrun its realities.

    The Ass and His Shadow

    A TRAVELER hired an Ass to convey him to a distant place. The day being
    intensely hot, and the sun shining in its strength, the Traveler
    stopped to rest, and sought shelter from the heat under the Shadow of
    the Ass. As this afforded only protection for one, and as the Traveler
    and the owner of the Ass both claimed it, a violent dispute arose
    between them as to which of them had the right to the Shadow. The owner
    maintained that he had let the Ass only, and not his Shadow. The
    Traveler asserted that he had, with the hire of the Ass, hired his
    Shadow also. The quarrel proceeded from words to blows, and while the
    men fought, the Ass galloped off.

    In quarreling about the shadow we often lose the substance.

    The Ass and His Masters

    AN ASS, belonging to an herb-seller who gave him too little food and
    too much work made a petition to Jupiter to be released from his
    present service and provided with another master. Jupiter, after
    warning him that he would repent his request, caused him to be sold to
    a tile-maker. Shortly afterwards, finding that he had heavier loads to
    carry and harder work in the brick-field, he petitioned for another
    change of master. Jupiter, telling him that it would be the last time
    that he could grant his request, ordained that he be sold to a tanner.
    The Ass found that he had fallen into worse hands, and noting his
    master’s occupation, said, groaning: “It would have been better for me
    to have been either starved by the one, or to have been overworked by
    the other of my former masters, than to have been bought by my present
    owner, who will even after I am dead tan my hide, and make me useful to
    him.”

    Mercury and the Sculptor

    MERCURY once determined to learn in what esteem he was held among
    mortals. For this purpose he assumed the character of a man and visited
    in this disguise a Sculptor’s studio having looked at various statues,
    he demanded the price of two figures of Jupiter and Juno. When the sum
    at which they were valued was named, he pointed to a figure of himself,
    saying to the Sculptor, “You will certainly want much more for this, as
    it is the statue of the Messenger of the Gods, and author of all your
    gain.” The Sculptor replied, “Well, if you will buy these, I’ll fling
    you that into the bargain.”

    The Fox and the Woodcutter

    A FOX, running before the hounds, came across a Woodcutter felling an
    oak and begged him to show him a safe hiding-place. The Woodcutter
    advised him to take shelter in his own hut, so the Fox crept in and hid
    himself in a corner. The huntsman soon came up with his hounds and
    inquired of the Woodcutter if he had seen the Fox. He declared that he
    had not seen him, and yet pointed, all the time he was speaking, to the
    hut where the Fox lay hidden. The huntsman took no notice of the signs,
    but believing his word, hastened forward in the chase. As soon as they
    were well away, the Fox departed without taking any notice of the
    Woodcutter: whereon he called to him and reproached him, saying, “You
    ungrateful fellow, you owe your life to me, and yet you leave me
    without a word of thanks.” The Fox replied, “Indeed, I should have
    thanked you fervently if your deeds had been as good as your words, and
    if your hands had not been traitors to your speech.”

    The Oak and the Reeds

    A VERY LARGE OAK was uprooted by the wind and thrown across a stream.
    It fell among some Reeds, which it thus addressed: “I wonder how you,
    who are so light and weak, are not entirely crushed by these strong
    winds.” They replied, “You fight and contend with the wind, and
    consequently you are destroyed; while we on the contrary bend before
    the least breath of air, and therefore remain unbroken, and escape.”

    Stoop to conquer.

    The Lion in a Farmyard

    A LION entered a farmyard. The Farmer, wishing to catch him, shut the
    gate. When the Lion found that he could not escape, he flew upon the
    sheep and killed them, and then attacked the oxen. The Farmer,
    beginning to be alarmed for his own safety, opened the gate and
    released the Lion. On his departure the Farmer grievously lamented the
    destruction of his sheep and oxen, but his wife, who had been a
    spectator to all that took place, said, “On my word, you are rightly
    served, for how could you for a moment think of shutting up a Lion
    along with you in your farmyard when you know that you shake in your
    shoes if you only hear his roar at a distance?”

    The Wolf and the Lion

    A WOLF, having stolen a lamb from a fold, was carrying him off to his
    lair. A Lion met him in the path, and seizing the lamb, took it from
    him. Standing at a safe distance, the Wolf exclaimed, “You have
    unrighteously taken that which was mine from me!” To which the Lion
    jeeringly replied, “It was righteously yours, eh? The gift of a
    friend?”

    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock

    A BIRDCATCHER was about to sit down to a dinner of herbs when a friend
    unexpectedly came in. The bird-trap was quite empty, as he had caught
    nothing, and he had to kill a pied Partridge, which he had tamed for a
    decoy. The bird entreated earnestly for his life: “What would you do
    without me when next you spread your nets? Who would chirp you to
    sleep, or call for you the covey of answering birds?” The Birdcatcher
    spared his life, and determined to pick out a fine young Cock just
    attaining to his comb. But the Cock expostulated in piteous tones from
    his perch: “If you kill me, who will announce to you the appearance of
    the dawn? Who will wake you to your daily tasks or tell you when it is
    time to visit the bird-trap in the morning?” He replied, “What you say
    is true. You are a capital bird at telling the time of day. But my
    friend and I must have our dinners.”

    Necessity knows no law.

    The Ant and the Dove

    AN ANT went to the bank of a river to quench its thirst, and being
    carried away by the rush of the stream, was on the point of drowning. A
    Dove sitting on a tree overhanging the water plucked a leaf and let it
    fall into the stream close to her. The Ant climbed onto it and floated
    in safety to the bank. Shortly afterwards a birdcatcher came and stood
    under the tree, and laid his lime-twigs for the Dove, which sat in the
    branches. The Ant, perceiving his design, stung him in the foot. In
    pain the birdcatcher threw down the twigs, and the noise made the Dove
    take wing.

    The Hares and the Frogs

    THE HARES, oppressed by their own exceeding timidity and weary of the
    perpetual alarm to which they were exposed, with one accord determined
    to put an end to themselves and their troubles by jumping from a lofty
    precipice into a deep lake below. As they scampered off in large
    numbers to carry out their resolve, the Frogs lying on the banks of the
    lake heard the noise of their feet and rushed helter-skelter to the
    deep water for safety. On seeing the rapid disappearance of the Frogs,
    one of the Hares cried out to his companions: “Stay, my friends, do not
    do as you intended; for you now see that there are creatures who are
    still more timid than ourselves.”

    The Monkey and the Fishermen

    A MONKEY perched upon a lofty tree saw some Fishermen casting their
    nets into a river, and narrowly watched their proceedings. The
    Fishermen after a while gave up fishing, and on going home to dinner
    left their nets upon the bank. The Monkey, who is the most imitative of
    animals, descended from the treetop and endeavored to do as they had
    done. Having handled the net, he threw it into the river, but became
    tangled in the meshes and drowned. With his last breath he said to
    himself, “I am rightly served; for what business had I who had never
    handled a net to try and catch fish?”

    The Swan and the Goose

    A CERTAIN rich man bought in the market a Goose and a Swan. He fed the
    one for his table and kept the other for the sake of its song. When the
    time came for killing the Goose, the cook went to get him at night,
    when it was dark, and he was not able to distinguish one bird from the
    other. By mistake he caught the Swan instead of the Goose. The Swan,
    threatened with death, burst forth into song and thus made himself
    known by his voice, and preserved his life by his melody.

    The Doe and the Lion

    A DOE hard pressed by hunters sought refuge in a cave belonging to a
    Lion. The Lion concealed himself on seeing her approach, but when she
    was safe within the cave, sprang upon her and tore her to pieces. “Woe
    is me,” exclaimed the Doe, “who have escaped from man, only to throw
    myself into the mouth of a wild beast?”

    In avoiding one evil, care must be taken not to fall into another.

    The Fisherman and the Little Fish

    A FISHERMAN who lived on the produce of his nets, one day caught a
    single small Fish as the result of his day’s labor. The Fish, panting
    convulsively, thus entreated for his life: “O Sir, what good can I be
    to you, and how little am I worth? I am not yet come to my full size.
    Pray spare my life, and put me back into the sea. I shall soon become a
    large fish fit for the tables of the rich, and then you can catch me
    again, and make a handsome profit of me.” The Fisherman replied, “I
    should indeed be a very simple fellow if, for the chance of a greater
    uncertain profit, I were to forego my present certain gain.”

    The Hunter and the Woodman

    A HUNTER, not very bold, was searching for the tracks of a Lion. He
    asked a man felling oaks in the forest if he had seen any marks of his
    footsteps or knew where his lair was. “I will,” said the man, “at once
    show you the Lion himself.” The Hunter, turning very pale and
    chattering with his teeth from fear, replied, “No, thank you. I did not
    ask that; it is his track only I am in search of, not the Lion
    himself.”

    The hero is brave in deeds as well as words.

    The Swollen Fox

    A VERY HUNGRY FOX, seeing some bread and meat left by shepherds in the
    hollow of an oak, crept into the hole and made a hearty meal. When he
    finished, he was so full that he was not able to get out, and began to
    groan and lament his fate. Another Fox passing by heard his cries, and
    coming up, inquired the cause of his complaining. On learning what had
    happened, he said to him, “Ah, you will have to remain there, my
    friend, until you become such as you were when you crept in, and then
    you will easily get out.”

    The Two Frogs

    TWO FROGS dwelt in the same pool. When the pool dried up under the
    summer’s heat, they left it and set out together for another home. As
    they went along they chanced to pass a deep well, amply supplied with
    water, and when they saw it, one of the Frogs said to the other, “Let
    us descend and make our abode in this well: it will furnish us with
    shelter and food.” The other replied with greater caution, “But suppose
    the water should fail us. How can we get out again from so great a
    depth?”

    Do nothing without a regard to the consequences.

    The Lamp

    A LAMP, soaked with too much oil and flaring brightly, boasted that it
    gave more light than the sun. Then a sudden puff of wind arose, and the
    Lamp was immediately extinguished. Its owner lit it again, and said:
    “Boast no more, but henceforth be content to give thy light in silence.
    Know that not even the stars need to be relit.”

    The Camel and the Arab

    AN ARAB Camel-driver, after completing the loading of his Camel, asked
    him which he would like best, to go up hill or down. The poor beast
    replied, not without a touch of reason: “Why do you ask me? Is it that
    the level way through the desert is closed?”

    The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass

    A MILLER and his son were driving their Ass to a neighboring fair to
    sell him. They had not gone far when they met with a troop of women
    collected round a well, talking and laughing. “Look there,” cried one
    of them, “did you ever see such fellows, to be trudging along the road
    on foot when they might ride?” The old man hearing this, quickly made
    his son mount the Ass, and continued to walk along merrily by his side.
    Presently they came up to a group of old men in earnest debate.
    “There,” said one of them, “it proves what I was a-saying. What respect
    is shown to old age in these days? Do you see that idle lad riding
    while his old father has to walk? Get down, you young scapegrace, and
    let the old man rest his weary limbs.” Upon this the old man made his
    son dismount, and got up himself. In this manner they had not proceeded
    far when they met a company of women and children: “Why, you lazy old
    fellow,” cried several tongues at once, “how can you ride upon the
    beast, while that poor little lad there can hardly keep pace by the
    side of you?” The good-natured Miller immediately took up his son
    behind him. They had now almost reached the town. “Pray, honest
    friend,” said a citizen, “is that Ass your own?” “Yes,” replied the old
    man. “O, one would not have thought so,” said the other, “by the way
    you load him. Why, you two fellows are better able to carry the poor
    beast than he you.” “Anything to please you,” said the old man; “we can
    but try.” So, alighting with his son, they tied the legs of the Ass
    together and with the help of a pole endeavored to carry him on their
    shoulders over a bridge near the entrance to the town. This
    entertaining sight brought the people in crowds to laugh at it, till
    the Ass, not liking the noise nor the strange handling that he was
    subject to, broke the cords that bound him and, tumbling off the pole,
    fell into the river. Upon this, the old man, vexed and ashamed, made
    the best of his way home again, convinced that by endeavoring to please
    everybody he had pleased nobody, and lost his Ass in the bargain.

    The Cat and the Mice

    A CERTAIN HOUSE was overrun with Mice. A Cat, discovering this, made
    her way into it and began to catch and eat them one by one. Fearing for
    their lives, the Mice kept themselves close in their holes. The Cat was
    no longer able to get at them and perceived that she must tempt them
    forth by some device. For this purpose she jumped upon a peg, and
    suspending herself from it, pretended to be dead. One of the Mice,
    peeping stealthily out, saw her and said, “Ah, my good madam, even
    though you should turn into a meal-bag, we will not come near you.”

    The Mouse and the Bull

    A BULL was bitten by a Mouse and, angered by the wound, tried to
    capture him. But the Mouse reached his hole in safety. Though the Bull
    dug into the walls with his horns, he tired before he could rout out
    the Mouse, and crouching down, went to sleep outside the hole. The
    Mouse peeped out, crept furtively up his flank, and again biting him,
    retreated to his hole. The Bull rising up, and not knowing what to do,
    was sadly perplexed. At which the Mouse said, “The great do not always
    prevail. There are times when the small and lowly are the strongest to
    do mischief.”

    The Dog and the Cook

    A RICH MAN gave a great feast, to which he invited many friends and
    acquaintances. His Dog availed himself of the occasion to invite a
    stranger Dog, a friend of his, saying, “My master gives a feast, and
    there is always much food remaining; come and sup with me tonight.” The
    Dog thus invited went at the hour appointed, and seeing the
    preparations for so grand an entertainment, said in the joy of his
    heart, “How glad I am that I came! I do not often get such a chance as
    this. I will take care and eat enough to last me both today and
    tomorrow.” While he was congratulating himself and wagging his tail to
    convey his pleasure to his friend, the Cook saw him moving about among
    his dishes and, seizing him by his fore and hind paws, bundled him
    without ceremony out of the window. He fell with force upon the ground
    and limped away, howling dreadfully. His yelling soon attracted other
    street dogs, who came up to him and inquired how he had enjoyed his
    supper. He replied, “Why, to tell you the truth, I drank so much wine
    that I remember nothing. I do not know how I got out of the house.”

    The Thieves and the Cock

    SOME THIEVES broke into a house and found nothing but a Cock, whom they
    stole, and got off as fast as they could. Upon arriving at home they
    prepared to kill the Cock, who thus pleaded for his life: “Pray spare
    me; I am very serviceable to men. I wake them up in the night to their
    work.” “That is the very reason why we must the more kill you,” they
    replied; “for when you wake your neighbors, you entirely put an end to
    our business.”

    The safeguards of virtue are hateful to those with evil intentions.

    The Dancing Monkeys

    A PRINCE had some Monkeys trained to dance. Being naturally great
    mimics of men’s actions, they showed themselves most apt pupils, and
    when arrayed in their rich clothes and masks, they danced as well as
    any of the courtiers. The spectacle was often repeated with great
    applause, till on one occasion a courtier, bent on mischief, took from
    his pocket a handful of nuts and threw them upon the stage. The Monkeys
    at the sight of the nuts forgot their dancing and became (as indeed
    they were) Monkeys instead of actors. Pulling off their masks and
    tearing their robes, they fought with one another for the nuts. The
    dancing spectacle thus came to an end amidst the laughter and ridicule
    of the audience.

    The Farmer and the Fox

    A FARMER, who bore a grudge against a Fox for robbing his poultry yard,
    caught him at last, and being determined to take an ample revenge, tied
    some rope well soaked in oil to his tail, and set it on fire. The Fox
    by a strange fatality rushed to the fields of the Farmer who had
    captured him. It was the time of the wheat harvest; but the Farmer
    reaped nothing that year and returned home grieving sorely.

    The Traveler and Fortune

    A TRAVELER wearied from a long journey lay down, overcome with fatigue,
    on the very brink of a deep well. Just as he was about to fall into the
    water, Dame Fortune, it is said, appeared to him and waking him from
    his slumber thus addressed him: “Good Sir, pray wake up: for if you
    fall into the well, the blame will be thrown on me, and I shall get an
    ill name among mortals; for I find that men are sure to impute their
    calamities to me, however much by their own folly they have really
    brought them on themselves.”

    Everyone is more or less master of his own fate.

    The Seagull and the Kite

    A SEAGULL having bolted down too large a fish, burst its deep
    gullet-bag and lay down on the shore to die. A Kite saw him and
    exclaimed: “You richly deserve your fate; for a bird of the air has no
    business to seek its food from the sea.”

    Every man should be content to mind his own business.

    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox

    A LION and a Bear seized a Kid at the same moment, and fought fiercely
    for its possession. When they had fearfully lacerated each other and
    were faint from the long combat, they lay down exhausted with fatigue.
    A Fox, who had gone round them at a distance several times, saw them
    both stretched on the ground with the Kid lying untouched in the
    middle. He ran in between them, and seizing the Kid scampered off as
    fast as he could. The Lion and the Bear saw him, but not being able to
    get up, said, “Woe be to us, that we should have fought and belabored
    ourselves only to serve the turn of a Fox.”

    It sometimes happens that one man has all the toil, and another all the
    profit.

    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury

    A PHILOSOPHER witnessed from the shore the shipwreck of a vessel, of
    which the crew and passengers were all drowned. He inveighed against
    the injustice of Providence, which would for the sake of one criminal
    perchance sailing in the ship allow so many innocent persons to perish.
    As he was indulging in these reflections, he found himself surrounded
    by a whole army of Ants, near whose nest he was standing. One of them
    climbed up and stung him, and he immediately trampled them all to death
    with his foot. Mercury presented himself, and striking the Philosopher
    with his wand, said, “And are you indeed to make yourself a judge of
    the dealings of Providence, who hast thyself in a similar manner
    treated these poor Ants?”

    The Peasant and the Eagle

    A PEASANT found an Eagle captured in a trap, and much admiring the
    bird, set him free. The Eagle did not prove ungrateful to his
    deliverer, for seeing the Peasant sitting under a wall which was not
    safe, he flew toward him and with his talons snatched a bundle from his
    head. When the Peasant rose in pursuit, the Eagle let the bundle fall
    again. Taking it up, the man returned to the same place, to find that
    the wall under which he had been sitting had fallen to pieces; and he
    marveled at the service rendered him by the Eagle.

    The Fox and the Leopard

    THE FOX and the Leopard disputed which was the more beautiful of the
    two. The Leopard exhibited one by one the various spots which decorated
    his skin. But the Fox, interrupting him, said, “And how much more
    beautiful than you am I, who am decorated, not in body, but in mind.”

    The Lion and the Hare

    A LION came across a Hare, who was fast asleep. He was just in the act
    of seizing her, when a fine young Hart trotted by, and he left the Hare
    to follow him. The Hare, scared by the noise, awoke and scudded away.
    The Lion was unable after a long chase to catch the Hart, and returned
    to feed upon the Hare. On finding that the Hare also had run off, he
    said, “I am rightly served, for having let go of the food that I had in
    my hand for the chance of obtaining more.”

    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter

    A VERY POOR MAN, a Carpenter by trade, had a wooden image of Mercury,
    before which he made offerings day by day, and begged the idol to make
    him rich, but in spite of his entreaties he became poorer and poorer.
    At last, being very angry, he took his image down from its pedestal and
    dashed it against the wall. When its head was knocked off, out came a
    stream of gold, which the Carpenter quickly picked up and said, “Well,
    I think thou art altogether contradictory and unreasonable; for when I
    paid you honour, I reaped no benefits: but now that I maltreat you I am
    loaded with an abundance of riches.”

    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass

    THE LION, the Fox and the Ass entered into an agreement to assist each
    other in the chase. Having secured a large booty, the Lion on their
    return from the forest asked the Ass to allot his due portion to each
    of the three partners in the treaty. The Ass carefully divided the
    spoil into three equal shares and modestly requested the two others to
    make the first choice. The Lion, bursting out into a great rage,
    devoured the Ass. Then he requested the Fox to do him the favour to
    make a division. The Fox accumulated all that they had killed into one
    large heap and left to himself the smallest possible morsel. The Lion
    said, “Who has taught you, my very excellent fellow, the art of
    division? You are perfect to a fraction.” He replied, “I learned it
    from the Ass, by witnessing his fate.”

    Happy is the man who learns from the misfortunes of others.

    The Bull and the Goat

    A BULL, escaping from a Lion, hid in a cave which some shepherds had
    recently occupied. As soon as he entered, a He-Goat left in the cave
    sharply attacked him with his horns. The Bull quietly addressed him:
    “Butt away as much as you will. I have no fear of you, but of the Lion.
    Let that monster go away and I will soon let you know what is the
    respective strength of a Goat and a Bull.”

    It shows an evil disposition to take advantage of a friend in distress.

    The Bald Knight

    A BALD KNIGHT, who wore a wig, went out to hunt. A sudden puff of wind
    blew off his hat and wig, at which a loud laugh rang forth from his
    companions. He pulled up his horse, and with great glee joined in the
    joke by saying, “What a marvel it is that hairs which are not mine
    should fly from me, when they have forsaken even the man on whose head
    they grew.”

    The Oaks and Jupiter

    THE OAKS presented a complaint to Jupiter, saying, “We bear for no
    purpose the burden of life, as of all the trees that grow we are the
    most continually in peril of the axe.” Jupiter made answer: “You have
    only to thank yourselves for the misfortunes to which you are exposed:
    for if you did not make such excellent pillars and posts, and prove
    yourselves so serviceable to the carpenters and the farmers, the axe
    would not so frequently be laid to your roots.”

    The Monkeys and Their Mother

    THE MONKEY, it is said, has two young ones at each birth. The Mother
    fondles one and nurtures it with the greatest affection and care, but
    hates and neglects the other. It happened once that the young one which
    was caressed and loved was smothered by the too great affection of the
    Mother, while the despised one was nurtured and reared in spite of the
    neglect to which it was exposed.

    The best intentions will not always ensure success.

    The Hare and the Hound

    A HOUND started a Hare from his lair, but after a long run, gave up the
    chase. A goat-herd seeing him stop, mocked him, saying “The little one
    is the best runner of the two.” The Hound replied, “You do not see the
    difference between us: I was only running for a dinner, but he for his
    life.”

    The Shepherd and the Dog

    A SHEPHERD penning his sheep in the fold for the night was about to
    shut up a wolf with them, when his Dog perceiving the wolf said,
    “Master, how can you expect the sheep to be safe if you admit a wolf
    into the fold?”

    The Oak and the Woodcutters

    THE WOODCUTTER cut down a Mountain Oak and split it in pieces, making
    wedges of its own branches for dividing the trunk. The Oak said with a
    sigh, “I do not care about the blows of the axe aimed at my roots, but
    I do grieve at being torn in pieces by these wedges made from my own
    branches.”

    Misfortunes springing from ourselves are the hardest to bear.

    The Wasp and the Snake

    A WASP seated himself upon the head of a Snake and, striking him
    unceasingly with his stings, wounded him to death. The Snake, being in
    great torment and not knowing how to rid himself of his enemy, saw a
    wagon heavily laden with wood, and went and purposely placed his head
    under the wheels, saying, “At least my enemy and I shall perish
    together.”

    The Peacock and the Crane

    A PEACOCK spreading its gorgeous tail mocked a Crane that passed by,
    ridiculing the ashen hue of its plumage and saying, “I am robed, like a
    king, in gold and purple and all the colors of the rainbow; while you
    have not a bit of color on your wings.” “True,” replied the Crane; “but
    I soar to the heights of heaven and lift up my voice to the stars,
    while you walk below, like a cock, among the birds of the dunghill.”

    Fine feathers don’t make fine birds.

    The Hen and the Golden Eggs

    A COTTAGER and his wife had a Hen that laid a golden egg every day.
    They supposed that the Hen must contain a great lump of gold in its
    inside, and in order to get the gold they killed it. Having done so,
    they found to their surprise that the Hen differed in no respect from
    their other hens. The foolish pair, thus hoping to become rich all at
    once, deprived themselves of the gain of which they were assured day by
    day.

    The Ass and the Frogs

    AN ASS, carrying a load of wood, passed through a pond. As he was
    crossing through the water he lost his footing, stumbled and fell, and
    not being able to rise on account of his load, groaned heavily. Some
    Frogs frequenting the pool heard his lamentation, and said, “What would
    you do if you had to live here always as we do, when you make such a
    fuss about a mere fall into the water?”

    Men often bear little grievances with less courage than they do large
    misfortunes.

    The Crow and the Raven

    A CROW was jealous of the Raven, because he was considered a bird of
    good omen and always attracted the attention of men, who noted by his
    flight the good or evil course of future events. Seeing some travelers
    approaching, the Crow flew up into a tree, and perching herself on one
    of the branches, cawed as loudly as she could. The travelers turned
    towards the sound and wondered what it foreboded, when one of them said
    to his companion, “Let us proceed on our journey, my friend, for it is
    only the caw of a crow, and her cry, you know, is no omen.”

    Those who assume a character which does not belong to them, only make
    themselves ridiculous.

    The Trees and the Axe

    A MAN came into a forest and asked the Trees to provide him a handle
    for his axe. The Trees consented to his request and gave him a young
    ash-tree. No sooner had the man fitted a new handle to his axe from it,
    than he began to use it and quickly felled with his strokes the noblest
    giants of the forest. An old oak, lamenting when too late the
    destruction of his companions, said to a neighboring cedar, “The first
    step has lost us all. If we had not given up the rights of the ash, we
    might yet have retained our own privileges and have stood for ages.”

    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs

    THE WOLVES thus addressed the Sheepdogs: “Why should you, who are like
    us in so many things, not be entirely of one mind with us, and live
    with us as brothers should? We differ from you in one point only. We
    live in freedom, but you bow down to and slave for men, who in return
    for your services flog you with whips and put collars on your necks.
    They make you also guard their sheep, and while they eat the mutton
    throw only the bones to you. If you will be persuaded by us, you will
    give us the sheep, and we will enjoy them in common, till we all are
    surfeited.” The Dogs listened favourably to these proposals, and,
    entering the den of the Wolves, they were set upon and torn to pieces.

    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter

    A BULL finding a lion’s cub asleep gored him to death with his horns.
    The Lioness came up, and bitterly lamented the death of her whelp. A
    wild-boar Hunter, seeing her distress, stood at a distance and said to
    her, “Think how many men there are who have reason to lament the loss
    of their children, whose deaths have been caused by you.”

    The Bowman and Lion

    A VERY SKILLFUL BOWMAN went to the mountains in search of game, but all
    the beasts of the forest fled at his approach. The Lion alone
    challenged him to combat. The Bowman immediately shot out an arrow and
    said to the Lion: “I send thee my messenger, that from him thou mayest
    learn what I myself shall be when I assail thee.” The wounded Lion
    rushed away in great fear, and when a Fox who had seen it all happen
    told him to be of good courage and not to back off at the first attack
    he replied: “You counsel me in vain; for if he sends so fearful a
    messenger, how shall I abide the attack of the man himself?”

    Be on guard against men who can strike from a distance.

    The Camel

    WHEN MAN first saw the Camel, he was so frightened at his vast size
    that he ran away. After a time, perceiving the meekness and gentleness
    of the beast’s temper, he summoned courage enough to approach him. Soon
    afterwards, observing that he was an animal altogether deficient in
    spirit, he assumed such boldness as to put a bridle in his mouth, and
    to let a child drive him.

    Use serves to overcome dread.

    The Crab and the Fox

    A CRAB, forsaking the seashore, chose a neighboring green meadow as its
    feeding ground. A Fox came across him, and being very hungry ate him
    up. Just as he was on the point of being eaten, the Crab said, “I well
    deserve my fate, for what business had I on the land, when by my nature
    and habits I am only adapted for the sea?”

    Contentment with our lot is an element of happiness.

    The Ass and the Old Shepherd

    A SHEPHERD, watching his Ass feeding in a meadow, was alarmed all of a
    sudden by the cries of the enemy. He appealed to the Ass to fly with
    him, lest they should both be captured, but the animal lazily replied,
    “Why should I, pray? Do you think it likely the conqueror will place on
    me two sets of panniers?” “No,” rejoined the Shepherd. “Then,” said the
    Ass, “as long as I carry the panniers, what matters it to me whom I
    serve?”

    In a change of government the poor change nothing beyond the name of
    their master.

    The Fox and the Hedgehog

    A FOX swimming across a rapid river was carried by the force of the
    current into a very deep ravine, where he lay for a long time very much
    bruised, sick, and unable to move. A swarm of hungry blood-sucking
    flies settled upon him. A Hedgehog, passing by, saw his anguish and
    inquired if he should drive away the flies that were tormenting him.
    “By no means,” replied the Fox; “pray do not molest them.” “How is
    this?” said the Hedgehog; “do you not want to be rid of them?” “No,”
    returned the Fox, “for these flies which you see are full of blood, and
    sting me but little, and if you rid me of these which are already
    satiated, others more hungry will come in their place, and will drink
    up all the blood I have left.”

    The Woman and Her Hen

    A WOMAN possessed a Hen that gave her an egg every day. She often
    pondered how she might obtain two eggs daily instead of one, and at
    last, to gain her purpose, determined to give the Hen a double
    allowance of barley. From that day the Hen became fat and sleek, and
    never once laid another egg.

    The Kites and the Swans

    TEE KITES of olden times, as well as the Swans, had the privilege of
    song. But having heard the neigh of the horse, they were so enchanted
    with the sound, that they tried to imitate it; and, in trying to neigh,
    they forgot how to sing.

    The desire for imaginary benefits often involves the loss of present
    blessings.

    The Dog and the Hare

    A HOUND having started a Hare on the hillside pursued her for some
    distance, at one time biting her with his teeth as if he would take her
    life, and at another fawning upon her, as if in play with another dog.
    The Hare said to him, “I wish you would act sincerely by me, and show
    yourself in your true colors. If you are a friend, why do you bite me
    so hard? If an enemy, why do you fawn on me?”

    No one can be a friend if you know not whether to trust or distrust
    him.

    The Hares and the Foxes

    THE HARES waged war with the Eagles, and called upon the Foxes to help
    them. They replied, “We would willingly have helped you, if we had not
    known who you were, and with whom you were fighting.”

    Count the cost before you commit yourselves.

    The Bull and the Calf

    A BULL was striving with all his might to squeeze himself through a
    narrow passage which led to his stall. A young Calf came up, and
    offered to go before and show him the way by which he could manage to
    pass. “Save yourself the trouble,” said the Bull; “I knew that way long
    before you were born.”

    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep

    A STAG asked a Sheep to lend him a measure of wheat, and said that the
    Wolf would be his surety. The Sheep, fearing some fraud was intended,
    excused herself, saying, “The Wolf is accustomed to seize what he wants
    and to run off; and you, too, can quickly outstrip me in your rapid
    flight. How then shall I be able to find you, when the day of payment
    comes?”

    Two blacks do not make one white.

    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow

    AN EAGLE made her nest at the top of a lofty oak; a Cat, having found a
    convenient hole, moved into the middle of the trunk; and a Wild Sow,
    with her young, took shelter in a hollow at its foot. The Cat cunningly
    resolved to destroy this chance-made colony. To carry out her design,
    she climbed to the nest of the Eagle, and said, “Destruction is
    preparing for you, and for me too, unfortunately. The Wild Sow, whom
    you see daily digging up the earth, wishes to uproot the oak, so she
    may on its fall seize our families as food for her young.” Having thus
    frightened the Eagle out of her senses, she crept down to the cave of
    the Sow, and said, “Your children are in great danger; for as soon as
    you go out with your litter to find food, the Eagle is prepared to
    pounce upon one of your little pigs.” Having instilled these fears into
    the Sow, she went and pretended to hide herself in the hollow of the
    tree. When night came she went forth with silent foot and obtained food
    for herself and her kittens, but feigning to be afraid, she kept a
    lookout all through the day. Meanwhile, the Eagle, full of fear of the
    Sow, sat still on the branches, and the Sow, terrified by the Eagle,
    did not dare to go out from her cave. And thus they both, along with
    their families, perished from hunger, and afforded ample provision for
    the Cat and her kittens.

    The Wolf and the Fox

    AT ONE TIME a very large and strong Wolf was born among the wolves, who
    exceeded all his fellow-wolves in strength, size, and swiftness, so
    that they unanimously decided to call him “Lion.” The Wolf, with a lack
    of sense proportioned to his enormous size, thought that they gave him
    this name in earnest, and, leaving his own race, consorted exclusively
    with the lions. An old sly Fox, seeing this, said, “May I never make
    myself so ridiculous as you do in your pride and self-conceit; for even
    though you have the size of a lion among wolves, in a herd of lions you
    are definitely a wolf.”

    The Mule

    A MULE, frolicsome from lack of work and from too much corn, galloped
    about in a very extravagant manner, and said to himself: “My father
    surely was a high-mettled racer, and I am his own child in speed and
    spirit.” On the next day, being driven a long journey, and feeling very
    wearied, he exclaimed in a disconsolate tone: “I must have made a
    mistake; my father, after all, could have been only an ass.”

    The Prophet

    A WIZARD, sitting in the marketplace, was telling the fortunes of the
    passers-by when a person ran up in great haste, and announced to him
    that the doors of his house had been broken open and that all his goods
    were being stolen. He sighed heavily and hastened away as fast as he
    could run. A neighbor saw him running and said, “Oh! you fellow there!
    you say you can foretell the fortunes of others; how is it you did not
    foresee your own?”

    The Two Frogs

    TWO FROGS were neighbors. One inhabited a deep pond, far removed from
    public view; the other lived in a gully containing little water, and
    traversed by a country road. The Frog that lived in the pond warned his
    friend to change his residence and entreated him to come and live with
    him, saying that he would enjoy greater safety from danger and more
    abundant food. The other refused, saying that he felt it so very hard
    to leave a place to which he had become accustomed. A few days
    afterwards a heavy wagon passed through the gully and crushed him to
    death under its wheels.

    A willful man will have his way to his own hurt.

    The Serpent and the Eagle

    A SERPENT and an Eagle were struggling with each other in deadly
    conflict. The Serpent had the advantage, and was about to strangle the
    bird. A countryman saw them, and running up, loosed the coil of the
    Serpent and let the Eagle go free. The Serpent, irritated at the escape
    of his prey, injected his poison into the drinking horn of the
    countryman. The rustic, ignorant of his danger, was about to drink,
    when the Eagle struck his hand with his wing, and, seizing the drinking
    horn in his talons, carried it aloft.

    The Crow and the Pitcher

    A CROW perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and hoping to find water,
    flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his grief
    that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get at it.
    He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all his
    efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he could
    carry and dropped them one by one with his beak into the pitcher, until
    he brought the water within his reach and thus saved his life.

    Necessity is the mother of invention.

    The Thief and the Innkeeper

    A THIEF hired a room in a tavern and stayed a while in the hope of
    stealing something which should enable him to pay his reckoning. When
    he had waited some days in vain, he saw the Innkeeper dressed in a new
    and handsome coat and sitting before his door. The Thief sat down
    beside him and talked with him. As the conversation began to flag, the
    Thief yawned terribly and at the same time howled like a wolf. The
    Innkeeper said, “Why do you howl so fearfully?” “I will tell you,” said
    the Thief, “but first let me ask you to hold my clothes, or I shall
    tear them to pieces. I know not, sir, when I got this habit of yawning,
    nor whether these attacks of howling were inflicted on me as a judgment
    for my crimes, or for any other cause; but this I do know, that when I
    yawn for the third time, I actually turn into a wolf and attack men.”
    With this speech he commenced a second fit of yawning and again howled
    like a wolf, as he had at first. The Innkeeper, hearing his tale and
    believing what he said, became greatly alarmed and, rising from his
    seat, attempted to run away. The Thief laid hold of his coat and
    entreated him to stop, saying, “Pray wait, sir, and hold my clothes, or
    I shall tear them to pieces in my fury, when I turn into a wolf.” At
    the same moment he yawned the third time and set up a terrible howl.
    The Innkeeper, frightened lest he should be attacked, left his new coat
    in the Thief’s hand and ran as fast as he could into the inn for
    safety. The Thief made off with the coat and did not return again to
    the inn.

    Every tale is not to be believed.

    The Hart and the Vine

    A HART, hard pressed in the chase, hid himself beneath the large leaves
    of a Vine. The huntsmen, in their haste, overshot the place of his
    concealment. Supposing all danger to have passed, the Hart began to
    nibble the tendrils of the Vine. One of the huntsmen, attracted by the
    rustling of the leaves, looked back, and seeing the Hart, shot an arrow
    from his bow and struck it. The Hart, at the point of death, groaned:
    “I am rightly served, for I should not have maltreated the Vine that
    saved me.”

    The Gnat and the Lion

    A GNAT came and said to a Lion, “I do not in the least fear you, nor
    are you stronger than I am. For in what does your strength consist? You
    can scratch with your claws and bite with your teeth an a woman in her
    quarrels. I repeat that I am altogether more powerful than you; and if
    you doubt it, let us fight and see who will conquer.” The Gnat, having
    sounded his horn, fastened himself upon the Lion and stung him on the
    nostrils and the parts of the face devoid of hair. While trying to
    crush him, the Lion tore himself with his claws, until he punished
    himself severely. The Gnat thus prevailed over the Lion, and, buzzing
    about in a song of triumph, flew away. But shortly afterwards he became
    entangled in the meshes of a cobweb and was eaten by a spider. He
    greatly lamented his fate, saying, “Woe is me! that I, who can wage war
    successfully with the hugest beasts, should perish myself from this
    spider, the most inconsiderable of insects!”

    The Fox and the Grapes

    A FAMISHED FOX saw some clusters of ripe black grapes hanging from a
    trellised vine. She resorted to all her tricks to get at them, but
    wearied herself in vain, for she could not reach them. At last she
    turned away, hiding her disappointment and saying: “The Grapes are
    sour, and not ripe as I thought.”

    The Walnut-Tree

    A WALNUT TREE standing by the roadside bore an abundant crop of fruit.
    For the sake of the nuts, the passers-by broke its branches with stones
    and sticks. The Walnut-Tree piteously exclaimed, “O wretched me! that
    those whom I cheer with my fruit should repay me with these painful
    requitals!”

    The Kid and the Wolf

    A KID, returning without protection from the pasture, was pursued by a
    Wolf. Seeing he could not escape, he turned round, and said: “I know,
    friend Wolf, that I must be your prey, but before I die I would ask of
    you one favour you will play me a tune to which I may dance.” The Wolf
    complied, and while he was piping and the Kid was dancing, some hounds
    hearing the sound ran up and began chasing the Wolf. Turning to the
    Kid, he said, “It is just what I deserve; for I, who am only a butcher,
    should not have turned piper to please you.”

    The Monkey and the Dolphin

    A SAILOR, bound on a long voyage, took with him a Monkey to amuse him
    while on shipboard. As he sailed off the coast of Greece, a violent
    tempest arose in which the ship was wrecked and he, his Monkey, and all
    the crew were obliged to swim for their lives. A Dolphin saw the Monkey
    contending with the waves, and supposing him to be a man (whom he is
    always said to befriend), came and placed himself under him, to convey
    him on his back in safety to the shore. When the Dolphin arrived with
    his burden in sight of land not far from Athens, he asked the Monkey if
    he were an Athenian. The latter replied that he was, and that he was
    descended from one of the most noble families in that city. The Dolphin
    then inquired if he knew the Piræus (the famous harbor of Athens).
    Supposing that a man was meant, the Monkey answered that he knew him
    very well and that he was an intimate friend. The Dolphin, indignant at
    these falsehoods, dipped the Monkey under the water and drowned him.

    The Horse and the Stag

    AT ONE TIME the Horse had the plain entirely to himself. Then a Stag
    intruded into his domain and shared his pasture. The Horse, desiring to
    revenge himself on the stranger, asked a man if he were willing to help
    him in punishing the Stag. The man replied that if the Horse would
    receive a bit in his mouth and agree to carry him, he would contrive
    effective weapons against the Stag. The Horse consented and allowed the
    man to mount him. From that hour he found that instead of obtaining
    revenge on the Stag, he had enslaved himself to the service of man.

    The Jackdaw and the Doves

    A JACKDAW, seeing some Doves in a cote abundantly provided with food,
    painted himself white and joined them in order to share their plentiful
    maintenance. The Doves, as long as he was silent, supposed him to be
    one of themselves and admitted him to their cote. But when one day he
    forgot himself and began to chatter, they discovered his true character
    and drove him forth, pecking him with their beaks. Failing to obtain
    food among the Doves, he returned to the Jackdaws. They too, not
    recognizing him on account of his color, expelled him from living with
    them. So desiring two ends, he obtained neither.

    The Fox and the Monkey

    A FOX and a Monkey were traveling together on the same road. As they
    journeyed, they passed through a cemetery full of monuments. “All these
    monuments which you see,” said the Monkey, “are erected in honour of my
    ancestors, who were in their day freedmen and citizens of great
    renown.” The Fox replied, “You have chosen a most appropriate subject
    for your falsehoods, as I am sure none of your ancestors will be able
    to contradict you.”

    A false tale often betrays itself.

    The Man and His Wife

    A MAN had a Wife who made herself hated by all the members of his
    household. Wishing to find out if she had the same effect on the
    persons in her father’s house, he made some excuse to send her home on
    a visit to her father. After a short time she returned, and when he
    inquired how she had got on and how the servants had treated her, she
    replied, “The herdsmen and shepherds cast on me looks of aversion.” He
    said, “O Wife, if you were disliked by those who go out early in the
    morning with their flocks and return late in the evening, what must
    have been felt towards you by those with whom you passed the whole
    day!”

    Straws show how the wind blows.

    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog

    A HORSE, Ox, and Dog, driven to great straits by the cold, sought
    shelter and protection from Man. He received them kindly, lighted a
    fire, and warmed them. He let the Horse make free with his oats, gave
    the Ox an abundance of hay, and fed the Dog with meat from his own
    table. Grateful for these favours, the animals determined to repay him
    to the best of their ability. For this purpose, they divided the term
    of his life between them, and each endowed one portion of it with the
    qualities which chiefly characterized himself. The Horse chose his
    earliest years and gave them his own attributes: hence every man is in
    his youth impetuous, headstrong, and obstinate in maintaining his own
    opinion. The Ox took under his patronage the next term of life, and
    therefore man in his middle age is fond of work, devoted to labor, and
    resolute to amass wealth and to husband his resources. The end of life
    was reserved for the Dog, wherefore the old man is often snappish,
    irritable, hard to please, and selfish, tolerant only of his own
    household, but averse to strangers and to all who do not administer to
    his comfort or to his necessities.

    The Thief and the Housedog

    A THIEF came in the night to break into a house. He brought with him
    several slices of meat in order to pacify the Housedog, so that he
    would not alarm his master by barking. As the Thief threw him the
    pieces of meat, the Dog said, “If you think to stop my mouth, you will
    be greatly mistaken. This sudden kindness at your hands will only make
    me more watchful, lest under these unexpected favours to myself, you
    have some private ends to accomplish for your own benefit, and for my
    master’s injury.”

    The Apes and the Two Travelers

    TWO MEN, one who always spoke the truth and the other who told nothing
    but lies, were traveling together and by chance came to the land of
    Apes. One of the Apes, who had raised himself to be king, commanded
    them to be seized and brought before him, that he might know what was
    said of him among men. He ordered at the same time that all the Apes be
    arranged in a long row on his right hand and on his left, and that a
    throne be placed for him, as was the custom among men. After these
    preparations he signified that the two men should be brought before
    him, and greeted them with this salutation: “What sort of a king do I
    seem to you to be, O strangers?” The Lying Traveler replied, “You seem
    to me a most mighty king.” “And what is your estimate of those you see
    around me?” “These,” he made answer, “are worthy companions of
    yourself, fit at least to be ambassadors and leaders of armies.” The
    Ape and all his court, gratified with the lie, commanded that a
    handsome present be given to the flatterer. On this the truthful
    Traveler thought to himself, “If so great a reward be given for a lie,
    with what gift may not I be rewarded, if, according to my custom, I
    tell the truth?” The Ape quickly turned to him. “And pray how do I and
    these my friends around me seem to you?” “Thou art,” he said, “a most
    excellent Ape, and all these thy companions after thy example are
    excellent Apes too.” The King of the Apes, enraged at hearing these
    truths, gave him over to the teeth and claws of his companions.

    The Fox and the Lion

    WHEN A FOX who had never yet seen a Lion, fell in with him by chance
    for the first time in the forest, he was so frightened that he nearly
    died with fear. On meeting him for the second time, he was still much
    alarmed, but not to the same extent as at first. On seeing him the
    third time, he so increased in boldness that he went up to him and
    commenced a familiar conversation with him.

    Acquaintance softens prejudices.

    The Weasel and the Mice

    A WEASEL, inactive from age and infirmities, was not able to catch mice
    as he once did. He therefore rolled himself in flour and lay down in a
    dark corner. A Mouse, supposing him to be food, leaped upon him, and
    was instantly caught and squeezed to death. Another perished in a
    similar manner, and then a third, and still others after them. A very
    old Mouse, who had escaped many a trap and snare, observed from a safe
    distance the trick of his crafty foe and said, “Ah! you that lie there,
    may you prosper just in the same proportion as you are what you pretend
    to be!”

    The Boy Bathing

    A BOY bathing in a river was in danger of being drowned. He called out
    to a passing traveler for help, but instead of holding out a helping
    hand, the man stood by unconcernedly, and scolded the boy for his
    imprudence. “Oh, sir!” cried the youth, “pray help me now and scold me
    afterwards.”

    Counsel without help is useless.

    The Peacock and Juno

    THE PEACOCK made complaint to Juno that, while the nightingale pleased
    every ear with his song, he himself no sooner opened his mouth than he
    became a laughingstock to all who heard him. The Goddess, to console
    him, said, “But you far excel in beauty and in size. The splendor of
    the emerald shines in your neck and you unfold a tail gorgeous with
    painted plumage.” “But for what purpose have I,” said the bird, “this
    dumb beauty so long as I am surpassed in song?” “The lot of each,”
    replied Juno, “has been assigned by the will of the Fates—to thee,
    beauty; to the eagle, strength; to the nightingale, song; to the raven,
    favourable, and to the crow, unfavourable auguries. These are all
    contented with the endowments allotted to them.”

    The Wolf and the Shepherd

    A WOLF followed a flock of sheep for a long time and did not attempt to
    injure one of them. The Shepherd at first stood on his guard against
    him, as against an enemy, and kept a strict watch over his movements.
    But when the Wolf, day after day, kept in the company of the sheep and
    did not make the slightest effort to seize them, the Shepherd began to
    look upon him as a guardian of his flock rather than as a plotter of
    evil against it; and when occasion called him one day into the city, he
    left the sheep entirely in his charge. The Wolf, now that he had the
    opportunity, fell upon the sheep, and destroyed the greater part of the
    flock. When the Shepherd returned to find his flock destroyed, he
    exclaimed: “I have been rightly served; why did I trust my sheep to a
    Wolf?”

    The Hares and the Lions

    THE HARES harangued the assembly, and argued that all should be equal.
    The Lions made this reply: “Your words, O Hares! are good; but they
    lack both claws and teeth such as we have.”

    The Seller of Images

    A CERTAIN MAN made a wooden image of Mercury and offered it for sale.
    When no one appeared willing to buy it, in order to attract purchasers,
    he cried out that he had the statue to sell of a benefactor who
    bestowed wealth and helped to heap up riches. One of the bystanders
    said to him, “My good fellow, why do you sell him, being such a one as
    you describe, when you may yourself enjoy the good things he has to
    give?” “Why,” he replied, “I am in need of immediate help, and he is
    wont to give his good gifts very slowly.”

    The Hawk and the Nightingale

    A NIGHTINGALE, sitting aloft upon an oak and singing according to his
    wont, was seen by a Hawk who, being in need of food, swooped down and
    seized him. The Nightingale, about to lose his life, earnestly begged
    the Hawk to let him go, saying that he was not big enough to satisfy
    the hunger of a Hawk who, if he wanted food, ought to pursue the larger
    birds. The Hawk, interrupting him, said: “I should indeed have lost my
    senses if I should let go food ready in my hand, for the sake of
    pursuing birds which are not yet even within sight.”

    The Lark and Her Young Ones

    A LARK had made her nest in the early spring on the young green wheat.
    The brood had almost grown to their full strength and attained the use
    of their wings and the full plumage of their feathers, when the owner
    of the field, looking over his ripe crop, said, “The time has come when
    I must ask all my neighbors to help me with my harvest.” One of the
    young Larks heard his speech and related it to his mother, inquiring of
    her to what place they should move for safety. “There is no occasion to
    move yet, my son,” she replied; “the man who only sends to his friends
    to help him with his harvest is not really in earnest.” The owner of
    the field came again a few days later and saw the wheat shedding the
    grain from excess of ripeness. He said, “I will come myself tomorrow
    with my laborers, and with as many reapers as I can hire, and will get
    in the harvest.” The Lark on hearing these words said to her brood, “It
    is time now to be off, my little ones, for the man is in earnest this
    time; he no longer trusts his friends, but will reap the field
    himself.”

    Self-help is the best help.

    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox

    A DOG and a Cock being great friends, agreed to travel together. At
    nightfall they took shelter in a thick wood. The Cock flying up,
    perched himself on the branches of a tree, while the Dog found a bed
    beneath in the hollow trunk. When the morning dawned, the Cock, as
    usual, crowed very loudly several times. A Fox heard the sound, and
    wishing to make a breakfast on him, came and stood under the branches,
    saying how earnestly he desired to make the acquaintance of the owner
    of so magnificent a voice. The Cock, suspecting his civilities, said:
    “Sir, I wish you would do me the favour of going around to the hollow
    trunk below me, and waking my porter, so that he may open the door and
    let you in.” When the Fox approached the tree, the Dog sprang out and
    caught him, and tore him to pieces.

    The Geese and the Cranes

    THE GEESE and the Cranes were feeding in the same meadow, when a
    birdcatcher came to ensnare them in his nets. The Cranes, being light
    of wing, fled away at his approach; while the Geese, being slower of
    flight and heavier in their bodies, were captured.

    The Ass and the Wolf

    AN ASS feeding in a meadow saw a Wolf approaching to seize him, and
    immediately pretended to be lame. The Wolf, coming up, inquired the
    cause of his lameness. The Ass replied that passing through a hedge he
    had trod with his foot upon a sharp thorn. He requested that the Wolf
    pull it out, lest when he ate him it should injure his throat. The Wolf
    consented and lifted up the foot, and was giving his whole mind to the
    discovery of the thorn, when the Ass, with his heels, kicked his teeth
    into his mouth and galloped away. The Wolf, being thus fearfully
    mauled, said, “I am rightly served, for why did I attempt the art of
    healing, when my father only taught me the trade of a butcher?”

    The Goat and the Ass

    A MAN once kept a Goat and an Ass. The Goat, envying the Ass on account
    of his greater abundance of food, said, “How shamefully you are
    treated: at one time grinding in the mill, and at another carrying
    heavy burdens;” and he further advised him to pretend to be epileptic
    and fall into a ditch and so obtain rest. The Ass listened to his
    words, and falling into a ditch, was very much bruised. His master,
    sending for a leech, asked his advice. He bade him pour upon the wounds
    the lungs of a Goat. They at once killed the Goat, and so healed the
    Ass.

    The Lion and the Bull

    A LION, greatly desiring to capture a Bull, and yet afraid to attack
    him on account of his great size, resorted to a trick to ensure his
    destruction. He approached the Bull and said, “I have slain a fine
    sheep, my friend; and if you will come home and partake of him with me,
    I shall be delighted to have your company.” The Lion said this in the
    hope that, as the Bull was in the act of reclining to eat, he might
    attack him to advantage, and make his meal on him. The Bull, on
    approaching the Lion’s den, saw the huge spits and giant caldrons, and
    no sign whatever of the sheep, and, without saying a word, quietly took
    his departure. The Lion inquired why he went off so abruptly without a
    word of salutation to his host, who had not given him any cause for
    offense. “I have reasons enough,” said the Bull. “I see no indication
    whatever of your having slaughtered a sheep, while I do see very
    plainly every preparation for your dining on a bull.”

    The Fox and the Mask

    A FOX entered the house of an actor and, rummaging through all his
    properties, came upon a Mask, an admirable imitation of a human head.
    He placed his paws on it and said, “What a beautiful head! Yet it is of
    no value, as it entirely lacks brains.”

    The Grasshopper and the Owl

    AN OWL, accustomed to feed at night and to sleep during the day, was
    greatly disturbed by the noise of a Grasshopper and earnestly besought
    her to stop chirping. The Grasshopper refused to desist, and chirped
    louder and louder the more the Owl entreated. When she saw that she
    could get no redress and that her words were despised, the Owl attacked
    the chatterer by a stratagem. “Since I cannot sleep,” she said, “on
    account of your song which, believe me, is sweet as the lyre of Apollo,
    I shall indulge myself in drinking some nectar which Pallas lately gave
    me. If you do not dislike it, come to me and we will drink it
    together.” The Grasshopper, who was thirsty, and pleased with the
    praise of her voice, eagerly flew up. The Owl came forth from her
    hollow, seized her, and put her to death.

    The Fowler and the Viper

    A FOWLER, taking his bird-lime and his twigs, went out to catch birds.
    Seeing a thrush sitting upon a tree, he wished to take it, and fitting
    his twigs to a proper length, watched intently, having his whole
    thoughts directed towards the sky. While thus looking upwards, he
    unknowingly trod upon a Viper asleep just before his feet. The Viper,
    turning about, stung him, and falling into a swoon, the man said to
    himself, “Woe is me! that while I purposed to hunt another, I am myself
    fallen unawares into the snares of death.”

    The Horse and the Ass

    A HORSE, proud of his fine trappings, met an Ass on the highway. The
    Ass, being heavily laden, moved slowly out of the way. “Hardly,” said
    the Horse, “can I resist kicking you with my heels.” The Ass held his
    peace, and made only a silent appeal to the justice of the gods. Not
    long afterwards the Horse, having become broken-winded, was sent by his
    owner to the farm. The Ass, seeing him drawing a dungcart, thus derided
    him: “Where, O boaster, are now all thy gay trappings, thou who are
    thyself reduced to the condition you so lately treated with contempt?”

    The Lion and the Three Bulls

    THREE BULLS for a long time pastured together. A Lion lay in ambush in
    the hope of making them his prey, but was afraid to attack them while
    they kept together. Having at last by guileful speeches succeeded in
    separating them, he attacked them without fear as they fed alone, and
    feasted on them one by one at his own leisure.

    Union is strength.

    The Wolf and the Goat

    A WOLF saw a Goat feeding at the summit of a steep precipice, where he
    had no chance of reaching her. He called to her and earnestly begged
    her to come lower down, lest she fall by some mishap; and he added that
    the meadows lay where he was standing, and that the herbage was most
    tender. She replied, “No, my friend, it is not for the pasture that you
    invite me, but for yourself, who are in want of food.”

    The Fly and the Draught-Mule

    A FLY sat on the axle-tree of a chariot, and addressing the
    Draught-Mule said, “How slow you are! Why do you not go faster? See if
    I do not prick your neck with my sting.” The Draught-Mule replied, “I
    do not heed your threats; I only care for him who sits above you, and
    who quickens my pace with his whip, or holds me back with the reins.
    Away, therefore, with your insolence, for I know well when to go fast,
    and when to go slow.”

    The Fishermen

    SOME FISHERMEN were out trawling their nets. Perceiving them to be very
    heavy, they danced about for joy and supposed that they had taken a
    large catch. When they had dragged the nets to the shore they found but
    few fish: the nets were full of sand and stones, and the men were
    beyond measure cast down so much at the disappointment which had
    befallen them, but because they had formed such very different
    expectations. One of their company, an old man, said, “Let us cease
    lamenting, my mates, for, as it seems to me, sorrow is always the twin
    sister of joy; and it was only to be looked for that we, who just now
    were over-rejoiced, should next have something to make us sad.”

    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse

    A COUNTRY MOUSE invited a Town Mouse, an intimate friend, to pay him a
    visit and partake of his country fare. As they were on the bare
    plowlands, eating there wheat-stocks and roots pulled up from the
    hedgerow, the Town Mouse said to his friend, “You live here the life of
    the ants, while in my house is the horn of plenty. I am surrounded by
    every luxury, and if you will come with me, as I wish you would, you
    shall have an ample share of my dainties.” The Country Mouse was easily
    persuaded, and returned to town with his friend. On his arrival, the
    Town Mouse placed before him bread, barley, beans, dried figs, honey,
    raisins, and, last of all, brought a dainty piece of cheese from a
    basket. The Country Mouse, being much delighted at the sight of such
    good cheer, expressed his satisfaction in warm terms and lamented his
    own hard fate. Just as they were beginning to eat, someone opened the
    door, and they both ran off squeaking, as fast as they could, to a hole
    so narrow that two could only find room in it by squeezing. They had
    scarcely begun their repast again when someone else entered to take
    something out of a cupboard, whereupon the two Mice, more frightened
    than before, ran away and hid themselves. At last the Country Mouse,
    almost famished, said to his friend: “Although you have prepared for me
    so dainty a feast, I must leave you to enjoy it by yourself. It is
    surrounded by too many dangers to please me. I prefer my bare plowlands
    and roots from the hedgerow, where I can live in safety, and without
    fear.”

    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape

    A WOLF accused a Fox of theft, but the Fox entirely denied the charge.
    An Ape undertook to adjudge the matter between them. When each had
    fully stated his case the Ape announced this sentence: “I do not think
    you, Wolf, ever lost what you claim; and I do believe you, Fox, to have
    stolen what you so stoutly deny.”

    The dishonest, if they act honestly, get no credit.

    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer

    THE WASPS and the Partridges, overcome with thirst, came to a Farmer
    and besought him to give them some water to drink. They promised amply
    to repay him the favour which they asked. The Partridges declared that
    they would dig around his vines and make them produce finer grapes. The
    Wasps said that they would keep guard and drive off thieves with their
    stings. But the Farmer interrupted them, saying: “I have already two
    oxen, who, without making any promises, do all these things. It is
    surely better for me to give the water to them than to you.”

    The Brother and the Sister

    A FATHER had one son and one daughter, the former remarkable for his
    good looks, the latter for her extraordinary ugliness. While they were
    playing one day as children, they happened by chance to look together
    into a mirror that was placed on their mother’s chair. The boy
    congratulated himself on his good looks; the girl grew angry, and could
    not bear the self-praises of her Brother, interpreting all he said (and
    how could she do otherwise?) into reflection on herself. She ran off to
    her father, to be avenged on her Brother, and spitefully accused him of
    having, as a boy, made use of that which belonged only to girls. The
    father embraced them both, and bestowing his kisses and affection
    impartially on each, said, “I wish you both would look into the mirror
    every day: you, my son, that you may not spoil your beauty by evil
    conduct; and you, my daughter, that you may make up for your lack of
    beauty by your virtues.”

    The Dogs and the Fox

    SOME DOGS, finding the skin of a lion, began to tear it in pieces with
    their teeth. A Fox, seeing them, said, “If this lion were alive, you
    would soon find out that his claws were stronger than your teeth.”

    It is easy to kick a man that is down.

    The Blind Man and the Whelp

    A BLIND MAN was accustomed to distinguishing different animals by
    touching them with his hands. The whelp of a Wolf was brought him, with
    a request that he would feel it, and say what it was. He felt it, and
    being in doubt, said: “I do not quite know whether it is the cub of a
    Fox, or the whelp of a Wolf, but this I know full well. It would not be
    safe to admit him to the sheepfold.”

    Evil tendencies are shown in early life.

    The Cobbler Turned Doctor

    A COBBLER unable to make a living by his trade and made desperate by
    poverty, began to practice medicine in a town in which he was not
    known. He sold a drug, pretending that it was an antidote to all
    poisons, and obtained a great name for himself by long-winded puffs and
    advertisements. When the Cobbler happened to fall sick himself of a
    serious illness, the Governor of the town determined to test his skill.
    For this purpose he called for a cup, and while filling it with water,
    pretended to mix poison with the Cobbler’s antidote, commanding him to
    drink it on the promise of a reward. The Cobbler, under the fear of
    death, confessed that he had no knowledge of medicine, and was only
    made famous by the stupid clamors of the crowd. The Governor then
    called a public assembly and addressed the citizens: “Of what folly
    have you been guilty? You have not hesitated to entrust your heads to a
    man, whom no one could employ to make even the shoes for their feet.”

    The Wolf and the Horse

    A WOLF coming out of a field of oats met a Horse and thus addressed
    him: “I would advise you to go into that field. It is full of fine
    oats, which I have left untouched for you, as you are a friend whom I
    would love to hear enjoying good eating.” The Horse replied, “If oats
    had been the food of wolves, you would never have indulged your ears at
    the cost of your belly.”

    Men of evil reputation, when they perform a good deed, fail to get
    credit for it.

    The Two Men Who Were Enemies

    TWO MEN, deadly enemies to each other, were sailing in the same vessel.
    Determined to keep as far apart as possible, the one seated himself in
    the stem, and the other in the prow of the ship. A violent storm arose,
    and with the vessel in great danger of sinking, the one in the stern
    inquired of the pilot which of the two ends of the ship would go down
    first. On his replying that he supposed it would be the prow, the Man
    said, “Death would not be grievous to me, if I could only see my Enemy
    die before me.”

    The Gamecocks and the Partridge

    A MAN had two Gamecocks in his poultry-yard. One day by chance he found
    a tame Partridge for sale. He purchased it and brought it home to be
    reared with his Gamecocks. When the Partridge was put into the
    poultry-yard, they struck at it and followed it about, so that the
    Partridge became grievously troubled and supposed that he was thus
    evilly treated because he was a stranger. Not long afterwards he saw
    the Cocks fighting together and not separating before one had well
    beaten the other. He then said to himself, “I shall no longer distress
    myself at being struck at by these Gamecocks, when I see that they
    cannot even refrain from quarreling with each other.”

    The Fox and the Lion

    A FOX saw a Lion confined in a cage, and standing near him, bitterly
    reviled him. The Lion said to the Fox, “It is not thou who revilest me;
    but this mischance which has befallen me.”

    The Quack Frog

    A FROG once upon a time came forth from his home in the marsh and
    proclaimed to all the beasts that he was a learned physician, skilled
    in the use of drugs and able to heal all diseases. A Fox asked him,
    “How can you pretend to prescribe for others, when you are unable to
    heal your own lame gait and wrinkled skin?”

    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox

    A LION, growing old, lay sick in his cave. All the beasts came to visit
    their king, except the Fox. The Wolf therefore, thinking that he had a
    capital opportunity, accused the Fox to the Lion of not paying any
    respect to him who had the rule over them all and of not coming to
    visit him. At that very moment the Fox came in and heard these last
    words of the Wolf. The Lion roaring out in a rage against him, the Fox
    sought an opportunity to defend himself and said, “And who of all those
    who have come to you have benefited you so much as I, who have traveled
    from place to place in every direction, and have sought and learnt from
    the physicians the means of healing you?” The Lion commanded him
    immediately to tell him the cure, when he replied, “You must flay a
    wolf alive and wrap his skin yet warm around you.” The Wolf was at once
    taken and flayed; whereon the Fox, turning to him, said with a smile,
    “You should have moved your master not to ill, but to good, will.”

    The Dog’s House

    IN THE WINTERTIME, a Dog curled up in as small a space as possible on
    account of the cold, determined to make himself a house. However when
    the summer returned again, he lay asleep stretched at his full length
    and appeared to himself to be of a great size. Now he considered that
    it would be neither an easy nor a necessary work to make himself such a
    house as would accommodate him.

    The North Wind and the Sun

    THE NORTH WIND and the Sun disputed as to which was the most powerful,
    and agreed that he should be declared the victor who could first strip
    a wayfaring man of his clothes. The North Wind first tried his power
    and blew with all his might, but the keener his blasts, the closer the
    Traveler wrapped his cloak around him, until at last, resigning all
    hope of victory, the Wind called upon the Sun to see what he could do.
    The Sun suddenly shone out with all his warmth. The Traveler no sooner
    felt his genial rays than he took off one garment after another, and at
    last, fairly overcome with heat, undressed and bathed in a stream that
    lay in his path.

    Persuasion is better than Force.

    The Crow and Mercury

    A CROW caught in a snare prayed to Apollo to release him, making a vow
    to offer some frankincense at his shrine. But when rescued from his
    danger, he forgot his promise. Shortly afterwards, again caught in a
    snare, he passed by Apollo and made the same promise to offer
    frankincense to Mercury. Mercury soon appeared and said to him, “O thou
    most base fellow? how can I believe thee, who hast disowned and wronged
    thy former patron?”

    The Fox and the Crane

    A FOX invited a Crane to supper and provided nothing for his
    entertainment but some soup made of pulse, which was poured out into a
    broad flat stone dish. The soup fell out of the long bill of the Crane
    at every mouthful, and his vexation at not being able to eat afforded
    the Fox much amusement. The Crane, in his turn, asked the Fox to sup
    with him, and set before her a flagon with a long narrow mouth, so that
    he could easily insert his neck and enjoy its contents at his leisure.
    The Fox, unable even to taste it, met with a fitting requital, after
    the fashion of her own hospitality.

    The Wolf and the Lion

    ROAMING BY the mountainside at sundown, a Wolf saw his own shadow
    become greatly extended and magnified, and he said to himself, “Why
    should I, being of such an immense size and extending nearly an acre in
    length, be afraid of the Lion? Ought I not to be acknowledged as King
    of all the collected beasts?” While he was indulging in these proud
    thoughts, a Lion fell upon him and killed him. He exclaimed with a too
    late repentance, “Wretched me! this overestimation of myself is the
    cause of my destruction.”

    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat

    THE BIRDS waged war with the Beasts, and each were by turns the
    conquerors. A Bat, fearing the uncertain issues of the fight, always
    fought on the side which he felt was the strongest. When peace was
    proclaimed, his deceitful conduct was apparent to both combatants.
    Therefore being condemned by each for his treachery, he was driven
    forth from the light of day, and henceforth concealed himself in dark
    hiding-places, flying always alone and at night.

    The Spendthrift and the Swallow

    A YOUNG MAN, a great spendthrift, had run through all his patrimony and
    had but one good cloak left. One day he happened to see a Swallow,
    which had appeared before its season, skimming along a pool and
    twittering gaily. He supposed that summer had come, and went and sold
    his cloak. Not many days later, winter set in again with renewed frost
    and cold. When he found the unfortunate Swallow lifeless on the ground,
    he said, “Unhappy bird! what have you done? By thus appearing before
    the springtime you have not only killed yourself, but you have wrought
    my destruction also.”

    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner

    A TRUMPETER, bravely leading on the soldiers, was captured by the
    enemy. He cried out to his captors, “Pray spare me, and do not take my
    life without cause or without inquiry. I have not slain a single man of
    your troop. I have no arms, and carry nothing but this one brass
    trumpet.” “That is the very reason for which you should be put to
    death,” they said; “for, while you do not fight yourself, your trumpet
    stirs all the others to battle.”

    The Owl and the Birds

    AN OWL, in her wisdom, counseled the Birds that when the acorn first
    began to sprout, to pull it all up out of the ground and not allow it
    to grow. She said acorns would produce mistletoe, from which an
    irremediable poison, the bird-lime, would be extracted and by which
    they would be captured. The Owl next advised them to pluck up the seed
    of the flax, which men had sown, as it was a plant which boded no good
    to them. And, lastly, the Owl, seeing an archer approach, predicted
    that this man, being on foot, would contrive darts armed with feathers
    which would fly faster than the wings of the Birds themselves. The
    Birds gave no credence to these warning words, but considered the Owl
    to be beside herself and said that she was mad. But afterwards, finding
    her words were true, they wondered at her knowledge and deemed her to
    be the wisest of birds. Hence it is that when she appears they look to
    her as knowing all things, while she no longer gives them advice, but
    in solitude laments their past folly.

    The Goods and the Ills

    ALL the Goods were once driven out by the Ills from that common share
    which they each had in the affairs of mankind; for the Ills by reason
    of their numbers had prevailed to possess the earth. The Goods wafted
    themselves to heaven and asked for a righteous vengeance on their
    persecutors. They entreated Jupiter that they might no longer be
    associated with the Ills, as they had nothing in common and could not
    live together, but were engaged in unceasing warfare; and that an
    indissoluble law might be laid down for their future protection.
    Jupiter granted their request and decreed that henceforth the Ills
    should visit the earth in company with each other, but that the Goods
    should one by one enter the habitations of men. Hence it arises that
    Ills abound, for they come not one by one, but in troops, and by no
    means singly: while the Goods proceed from Jupiter, and are given, not
    alike to all, but singly, and separately; and one by one to those who
    are able to discern them.

    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin

    AN ASS, having put on the Lion’s skin, roamed about in the forest and
    amused himself by frightening all the foolish animals he met in his
    wanderings. At last coming upon a Fox, he tried to frighten him also,
    but the Fox no sooner heard the sound of his voice than he exclaimed,
    “I might possibly have been frightened myself, if I had not heard your
    bray.”

    The Sparrow and the Hare

    A HARE pounced upon by an eagle sobbed very much and uttered cries like
    a child. A Sparrow upbraided her and said, “Where now is thy remarkable
    swiftness of foot? Why were your feet so slow?” While the Sparrow was
    thus speaking, a hawk suddenly seized him and killed him. The Hare was
    comforted in her death, and expiring said, “Ah! you who so lately, when
    you supposed yourself safe, exulted over my calamity, have now reason
    to deplore a similar misfortune.”

    The Flea and the Ox

    A FLEA thus questioned an Ox: “What ails you, that being so huge and
    strong, you submit to the wrongs you receive from men and slave for
    them day by day, while I, being so small a creature, mercilessly feed
    on their flesh and drink their blood without stint?” The Ox replied: “I
    do not wish to be ungrateful, for I am loved and well cared for by men,
    and they often pat my head and shoulders.” “Woe’s me!” said the flea;
    “this very patting which you like, whenever it happens to me, brings
    with it my inevitable destruction.”

    The Ass and His Purchaser

    A MAN wished to purchase an Ass, and agreed with its owner that he
    should try out the animal before he bought him. He took the Ass home
    and put him in the straw-yard with his other Asses, upon which the new
    animal left all the others and at once joined the one that was most
    idle and the greatest eater of them all. Seeing this, the man put a
    halter on him and led him back to his owner. On being asked how, in so
    short a time, he could have made a trial of him, he answered, “I do not
    need a trial; I know that he will be just the same as the one he chose
    for his companion.”

    A man is known by the company he keeps.

    The Dove and the Crow

    A DOVE shut up in a cage was boasting of the large number of young ones
    which she had hatched. A Crow hearing her, said: “My good friend, cease
    from this unseasonable boasting. The larger the number of your family,
    the greater your cause of sorrow, in seeing them shut up in this
    prison-house.”

    The Man and the Satyr

    A MAN and a Satyr once drank together in token of a bond of alliance
    being formed between them. One very cold wintry day, as they talked,
    the Man put his fingers to his mouth and blew on them. When the Satyr
    asked the reason for this, he told him that he did it to warm his hands
    because they were so cold. Later on in the day they sat down to eat,
    and the food prepared was quite scalding. The Man raised one of the
    dishes a little towards his mouth and blew in it. When the Satyr again
    inquired the reason, he said that he did it to cool the meat, which was
    too hot. “I can no longer consider you as a friend,” said the Satyr, “a
    fellow who with the same breath blows hot and cold.”

    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus

    ACCORDING to an ancient legend, the first man was made by Jupiter, the
    first bull by Neptune, and the first house by Minerva. On the
    completion of their labours, a dispute arose as to which had made the
    most perfect work. They agreed to appoint Momus as judge, and to abide
    by his decision. Momus, however, being very envious of the handicraft
    of each, found fault with all. He first blamed the work of Neptune
    because he had not made the horns of the bull below his eyes, so he
    might better see where to strike. He then condemned the work of
    Jupiter, because he had not placed the heart of man on the outside,
    that everyone might read the thoughts of the evil disposed and take
    precautions against the intended mischief. And, lastly, he inveighed
    against Minerva because she had not contrived iron wheels in the
    foundation of her house, so its inhabitants might more easily remove if
    a neighbor proved unpleasant. Jupiter, indignant at such inveterate
    faultfinding, drove him from his office of judge, and expelled him from
    the mansions of Olympus.

    The Eagle and the Jackdaw

    AN EAGLE, flying down from his perch on a lofty rock, seized upon a
    lamb and carried him aloft in his talons. A Jackdaw, who witnessed the
    capture of the lamb, was stirred with envy and determined to emulate
    the strength and flight of the Eagle. He flew around with a great whir
    of his wings and settled upon a large ram, with the intention of
    carrying him off, but his claws became entangled in the ram’s fleece
    and he was not able to release himself, although he fluttered with his
    feathers as much as he could. The shepherd, seeing what had happened,
    ran up and caught him. He at once clipped the Jackdaw’s wings, and
    taking him home at night, gave him to his children. On their saying,
    “Father, what kind of bird is it?” he replied, “To my certain knowledge
    he is a Daw; but he would like you to think an Eagle.”

    The Eagle and the Fox

    AN EAGLE and a Fox formed an intimate friendship and decided to live
    near each other. The Eagle built her nest in the branches of a tall
    tree, while the Fox crept into the underwood and there produced her
    young. Not long after they had agreed upon this plan, the Eagle, being
    in want of provision for her young ones, swooped down while the Fox was
    out, seized upon one of the little cubs, and feasted herself and her
    brood. The Fox on her return, discovered what had happened, but was
    less grieved for the death of her young than for her inability to
    avenge them. A just retribution, however, quickly fell upon the Eagle.
    While hovering near an altar, on which some villagers were sacrificing
    a goat, she suddenly seized a piece of the flesh, and carried it, along
    with a burning cinder, to her nest. A strong breeze soon fanned the
    spark into a flame, and the eaglets, as yet unfledged and helpless,
    were roasted in their nest and dropped down dead at the bottom of the
    tree. There, in the sight of the Eagle, the Fox gobbled them up.

    The Two Bags

    EVERY MAN, according to an ancient legend, is born into the world with
    two bags suspended from his neck all bag in front full of his
    neighbors’ faults, and a large bag behind filled with his own faults.
    Hence it is that men are quick to see the faults of others, and yet are
    often blind to their own failings.

    The Bitch and Her Whelps

    A BITCH, ready to whelp, earnestly begged a shepherd for a place where
    she might litter. When her request was granted, she besought permission
    to rear her puppies in the same spot. The shepherd again consented. But
    at last the Bitch, protected by the bodyguard of her Whelps, who had
    now grown up and were able to defend themselves, asserted her exclusive
    right to the place and would not permit the shepherd to approach.

    The Stag at the Pool

    A STAG overpowered by heat came to a spring to drink. Seeing his own
    shadow reflected in the water, he greatly admired the size and variety
    of his horns, but felt angry with himself for having such slender and
    weak feet. While he was thus contemplating himself, a Lion appeared at
    the pool and crouched to spring upon him. The Stag immediately took to
    flight, and exerting his utmost speed, as long as the plain was smooth
    and open kept himself easily at a safe distance from the Lion. But
    entering a wood he became entangled by his horns, and the Lion quickly
    came up to him and caught him. When too late, he thus reproached
    himself: “Woe is me! How I have deceived myself! These feet which would
    have saved me I despised, and I gloried in these antlers which have
    proved my destruction.”

    What is most truly valuable is often underrated.

    The Lark Burying Her Father

    THE LARK (according to an ancient legend) was created before the earth
    itself, and when her father died, as there was no earth, she could find
    no place of burial for him. She let him lie uninterred for five days,
    and on the sixth day, not knowing what else to do, she buried him in
    her own head. Hence she obtained her crest, which is popularly said to
    be her father’s grave-hillock.

    Youth’s first duty is reverence to parents.

    The Gnat and the Bull

    A GNAT settled on the horn of a Bull, and sat there a long time. Just
    as he was about to fly off, he made a buzzing noise, and inquired of
    the Bull if he would like him to go. The Bull replied, “I did not know
    you had come, and I shall not miss you when you go away.”

    Some men are of more consequence in their own eyes than in the eyes of
    their neighbors.

    The Monkey and the Camel

    THE BEASTS of the forest gave a splendid entertainment at which the
    Monkey stood up and danced. Having vastly delighted the assembly, he
    sat down amidst universal applause. The Camel, envious of the praises
    bestowed on the Monkey and desiring to divert to himself the favour of
    the guests, proposed to stand up in his turn and dance for their
    amusement. He moved about in so utterly ridiculous a manner that the
    Beasts, in a fit of indignation, set upon him with clubs and drove him
    out of the assembly.

    It is absurd to ape our betters.

    The Dogs and the Hides

    SOME DOGS famished with hunger saw a number of cowhides steeping in a
    river. Not being able to reach them, they agreed to drink up the river,
    but it happened that they burst themselves with drinking long before
    they reached the hides.

    Attempt not impossibilities.

    The Jackdaw and the Fox

    A HALF-FAMISHED JACKDAW seated himself on a fig-tree, which had
    produced some fruit entirely out of season, and waited in the hope that
    the figs would ripen. A Fox seeing him sitting so long and learning the
    reason of his doing so, said to him, “You are indeed, sir, sadly
    deceiving yourself; you are indulging a hope strong enough to cheat
    you, but which will never reward you with enjoyment.”

    Mercury and the Workmen

    A WORKMAN, felling wood by the side of a river, let his axe drop by
    accident into a deep pool. Being thus deprived of the means of his
    livelihood, he sat down on the bank and lamented his hard fate. Mercury
    appeared and demanded the cause of his tears. After he told him his
    misfortune, Mercury plunged into the stream, and, bringing up a golden
    axe, inquired if that were the one he had lost. On his saying that it
    was not his, Mercury disappeared beneath the water a second time,
    returned with a silver axe in his hand, and again asked the Workman if
    it were his. When the Workman said it was not, he dived into the pool
    for the third time and brought up the axe that had been lost. The
    Workman claimed it and expressed his joy at its recovery. Mercury,
    pleased with his honesty, gave him the golden and silver axes in
    addition to his own. The Workman, on his return to his house, related
    to his companions all that had happened. One of them at once resolved
    to try and secure the same good fortune for himself. He ran to the
    river and threw his axe on purpose into the pool at the same place, and
    sat down on the bank to weep. Mercury appeared to him just as he hoped
    he would; and having learned the cause of his grief, plunged into the
    stream and brought up a golden axe, inquiring if he had lost it. The
    Workman seized it greedily, and declared that truly it was the very
    same axe that he had lost. Mercury, displeased at his knavery, not only
    took away the golden axe, but refused to recover for him the axe he had
    thrown into the pool.

    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree

    A PEASANT had in his garden an Apple-Tree which bore no fruit but only
    served as a harbor for the sparrows and grasshoppers. He resolved to
    cut it down, and taking his axe in his hand, made a bold stroke at its
    roots. The grasshoppers and sparrows entreated him not to cut down the
    tree that sheltered them, but to spare it, and they would sing to him
    and lighten his labours. He paid no attention to their request, but
    gave the tree a second and a third blow with his axe. When he reached
    the hollow of the tree, he found a hive full of honey. Having tasted
    the honeycomb, he threw down his axe, and looking on the tree as
    sacred, took great care of it.

    Self-interest alone moves some men.

    The Two Soldiers and the Robber

    TWO SOLDIERS traveling together were set upon by a Robber. The one fled
    away; the other stood his ground and defended himself with his stout
    right hand. The Robber being slain, the timid companion ran up and drew
    his sword, and then, throwing back his traveling cloak said, “I’ll at
    him, and I’ll take care he shall learn whom he has attacked.” On this,
    he who had fought with the Robber made answer, “I only wish that you
    had helped me just now, even if it had been only with those words, for
    I should have been the more encouraged, believing them to be true; but
    now put up your sword in its sheath and hold your equally useless
    tongue, till you can deceive others who do not know you. I, indeed, who
    have experienced with what speed you run away, know right well that no
    dependence can be placed on your valor.”

    The Shepherd and the Sheep

    A SHEPHERD driving his Sheep to a wood, saw an oak of unusual size full
    of acorns, and spreading his cloak under the branches, he climbed up
    into the tree and shook them down. The Sheep eating the acorns
    inadvertently frayed and tore the cloak. When the Shepherd came down
    and saw what was done, he said, “O you most ungrateful creatures! You
    provide wool to make garments for all other men, but you destroy the
    clothes of him who feeds you.”

    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods

    THE GODS, according to an ancient legend, made choice of certain trees
    to be under their special protection. Jupiter chose the oak, Venus the
    myrtle, Apollo the laurel, Cybele the pine, and Hercules the poplar.
    Minerva, wondering why they had preferred trees not yielding fruit,
    inquired the reason for their choice. Jupiter replied, “It is lest we
    should seem to covet the honour for the fruit.” But said Minerva, “Let
    anyone say what he will the olive is more dear to me on account of its
    fruit.” Then said Jupiter, “My daughter, you are rightly called wise;
    for unless what we do is useful, the glory of it is vain.”

    The Flea and the Wrestler

    A FLEA settled upon the bare foot of a Wrestler and bit him, causing
    the man to call loudly upon Hercules for help. When the Flea a second
    time hopped upon his foot, he groaned and said, “O Hercules! if you
    will not help me against a Flea, how can I hope for your assistance
    against greater antagonists?”

    The Lion and the Fox

    A FOX entered into partnership with a Lion on the pretense of becoming
    his servant. Each undertook his proper duty in accordance with his own
    nature and powers. The Fox discovered and pointed out the prey; the
    Lion sprang on it and seized it. The Fox soon became jealous of the
    Lion carrying off the Lion’s share, and said that he would no longer
    find out the prey, but would capture it on his own account. The next
    day he attempted to snatch a lamb from the fold, but he himself fell
    prey to the huntsmen and hounds.

    Truth and the Traveler

    A WAYFARING MAN, traveling in the desert, met a woman standing alone
    and terribly dejected. He inquired of her, “Who art thou?” “My name is
    Truth,” she replied. “And for what cause,” he asked, “have you left the
    city to dwell alone here in the wilderness?” She made answer, “Because
    in former times, falsehood was with few, but is now with all men.”

    The Manslayer

    A MAN committed a murder, and was pursued by the relations of the man
    whom he murdered. On his reaching the river Nile he saw a Lion on its
    bank and being fearfully afraid, climbed up a tree. He found a serpent
    in the upper branches of the tree, and again being greatly alarmed, he
    threw himself into the river, where a crocodile caught him and ate him.
    Thus the earth, the air, and the water alike refused shelter to a
    murderer.

    The Lion and the Eagle

    AN EAGLE stayed his flight and entreated a Lion to make an alliance
    with him to their mutual advantage. The Lion replied, “I have no
    objection, but you must excuse me for requiring you to find surety for
    your good faith, for how can I trust anyone as a friend who is able to
    fly away from his bargain whenever he pleases?”

    Try before you trust.

    The Ass and His Driver

    AN ASS, being driven along a high road, suddenly started off and bolted
    to the brink of a deep precipice. While he was in the act of throwing
    himself over, his owner seized him by the tail, endeavoring to pull him
    back. When the Ass persisted in his effort, the man let him go and
    said, “Conquer, but conquer to your cost.”

    The Thrush and the Fowler

    A THRUSH was feeding on a myrtle-tree and did not move from it because
    its berries were so delicious. A Fowler observed her staying so long in
    one spot, and having well bird-limed his reeds, caught her. The Thrush,
    being at the point of death, exclaimed, “O foolish creature that I am!
    For the sake of a little pleasant food I have deprived myself of my
    life.”

    The Mother and the Wolf

    A FAMISHED WOLF was prowling about in the morning in search of food. As
    he passed the door of a cottage built in the forest, he heard a Mother
    say to her child, “Be quiet, or I will throw you out of the window, and
    the Wolf shall eat you.” The Wolf sat all day waiting at the door. In
    the evening he heard the same woman fondling her child and saying: “You
    are quiet now, and if the Wolf should come, we will kill him.” The
    Wolf, hearing these words, went home, gasping with cold and hunger.
    When he reached his den, Mistress Wolf inquired of him why he returned
    wearied and supperless, so contrary to his wont. He replied: “Why,
    forsooth! use I gave credence to the words of a woman!”

    The Hen and the Swallow

    A HEN finding the eggs of a viper and carefully keeping them warm,
    nourished them into life. A Swallow, observing what she had done, said,
    “You silly creature! why have you hatched these vipers which, when they
    shall have grown, will inflict injury on all, beginning with yourself?”

    The Rose and the Amaranth

    AN AMARANTH planted in a garden near a Rose-Tree, thus addressed it:
    “What a lovely flower is the Rose, a favourite alike with Gods and with
    men. I envy you your beauty and your perfume.” The Rose replied, “I
    indeed, dear Amaranth, flourish but for a brief season! If no cruel
    hand pluck me from my stem, yet I must perish by an early doom. But
    thou art immortal and dost never fade, but bloomest for ever in renewed
    youth.”

    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree

    TWO TRAVELERS, worn out by the heat of the summer’s sun, laid
    themselves down at noon under the widespreading branches of a
    Plane-Tree. As they rested under its shade, one of the Travelers said
    to the other, “What a singularly useless tree is the Plane! It bears no
    fruit, and is not of the least service to man.” The Plane-Tree,
    interrupting him, said, “You ungrateful fellows! Do you, while
    receiving benefits from me and resting under my shade, dare to describe
    me as useless, and unprofitable?”

    Some men underrate their best blessings.

    The Ass and the Horse

    AN ASS besought a Horse to spare him a small portion of his feed.
    “Yes,” said the Horse; “if any remains out of what I am now eating I
    will give it you for the sake of my own superior dignity, and if you
    will come when I reach my own stall in the evening, I will give you a
    little sack full of barley.” The Ass replied, “Thank you. But I can’t
    think that you, who refuse me a little matter now, will by and by
    confer on me a greater benefit.”

    The Crow and the Sheep

    A TROUBLESOME CROW seated herself on the back of a Sheep. The Sheep,
    much against his will, carried her backward and forward for a long
    time, and at last said, “If you had treated a dog in this way, you
    would have had your deserts from his sharp teeth.” To this the Crow
    replied, “I despise the weak and yield to the strong. I know whom I may
    bully and whom I must flatter; and I thus prolong my life to a good old
    age.”

    The Fox and the Bramble

    A FOX was mounting a hedge when he lost his footing and caught hold of
    a Bramble to save himself. Having pricked and grievously torn the soles
    of his feet, he accused the Bramble because, when he had fled to her
    for assistance, she had used him worse than the hedge itself. The
    Bramble, interrupting him, said, “But you really must have been out of
    your senses to fasten yourself on me, who am myself always accustomed
    to fasten upon others.”

    The Ass and the Charger

    AN ASS congratulated a Horse on being so ungrudgingly and carefully
    provided for, while he himself had scarcely enough to eat and not even
    that without hard work. But when war broke out, a heavily armed soldier
    mounted the Horse, and riding him to the charge, rushed into the very
    midst of the enemy. The Horse was wounded and fell dead on the
    battlefield. Then the Ass, seeing all these things, changed his mind,
    and commiserated the Horse.

    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant

    THE LION wearied Jupiter with his frequent complaints. “It is true, O
    Jupiter!” he said, “that I am gigantic in strength, handsome in shape,
    and powerful in attack. I have jaws well provided with teeth, and feet
    furnished with claws, and I lord it over all the beasts of the forest,
    and what a disgrace it is, that being such as I am, I should be
    frightened by the crowing of a cock.” Jupiter replied, “Why do you
    blame me without a cause? I have given you all the attributes which I
    possess myself, and your courage never fails you except in this one
    instance.” On hearing this the Lion groaned and lamented very much and,
    reproaching himself with his cowardice, wished that he might die. As
    these thoughts passed through his mind, he met an Elephant and came
    close to hold a conversation with him. After a time he observed that
    the Elephant shook his ears very often, and he inquired what was the
    matter and why his ears moved with such a tremor every now and then.
    Just at that moment a Gnat settled on the head of the Elephant, and he
    replied, “Do you see that little buzzing insect? If it enters my ear,
    my fate is sealed. I should die presently.” The Lion said, “Well, since
    so huge a beast is afraid of a tiny gnat, I will no more complain, nor
    wish myself dead. I find myself, even as I am, better off than the
    Elephant.”

    The Dog and the Oyster

    A DOG, used to eating eggs, saw an Oyster and, opening his mouth to its
    widest extent, swallowed it down with the utmost relish, supposing it
    to be an egg. Soon afterwards suffering great pain in his stomach, he
    said, “I deserve all this torment, for my folly in thinking that
    everything round must be an egg.”

    They who act without sufficient thought, will often fall into
    unsuspected danger.

    The Mules and the Robbers

    TWO MULES well-laden with packs were trudging along. One carried
    panniers filled with money, the other sacks weighted with grain. The
    Mule carrying the treasure walked with head erect, as if conscious of
    the value of his burden, and tossed up and down the clear-toned bells
    fastened to his neck. His companion followed with quiet and easy step.
    All of a sudden Robbers rushed upon them from their hiding-places, and
    in the scuffle with their owners, wounded with a sword the Mule
    carrying the treasure, which they greedily seized while taking no
    notice of the grain. The Mule which had been robbed and wounded
    bewailed his misfortunes. The other replied, “I am indeed glad that I
    was thought so little of, for I have lost nothing, nor am I hurt with
    any wound.”

    The Lamb and the Wolf

    A WOLF pursued a Lamb, which fled for refuge to a certain Temple. The
    Wolf called out to him and said, “The Priest will slay you in
    sacrifice, if he should catch you.” On which the Lamb replied, “It
    would be better for me to be sacrificed in the Temple than to be eaten
    by you.”

    The Partridge and the Fowler

    A FOWLER caught a Partridge and was about to kill it. The Partridge
    earnestly begged him to spare his life, saying, “Pray, master, permit
    me to live and I will entice many Partridges to you in recompense for
    your mercy to me.” The Fowler replied, “I shall now with less scruple
    take your life, because you are willing to save it at the cost of
    betraying your friends and relations.”

    The Flea and the Man

    A MAN, very much annoyed with a Flea, caught him at last, and said,
    “Who are you who dare to feed on my limbs, and to cost me so much
    trouble in catching you?” The Flea replied, “O my dear sir, pray spare
    my life, and destroy me not, for I cannot possibly do you much harm.”
    The Man, laughing, replied, “Now you shall certainly die by mine own
    hands, for no evil, whether it be small or large, ought to be
    tolerated.”

    The Rich Man and the Tanner

    A RICH MAN lived near a Tanner, and not being able to bear the
    unpleasant smell of the tan-yard, he pressed his neighbor to go away.
    The Tanner put off his departure from time to time, saying that he
    would leave soon. But as he still continued to stay, as time went on,
    the rich man became accustomed to the smell, and feeling no manner of
    inconvenience, made no further complaints.

    The Viper and the File

    A VIPER, entering the workshop of a smith, sought from the tools the
    means of satisfying his hunger. He more particularly addressed himself
    to a File, and asked of him the favour of a meal. The File replied,
    “You must indeed be a simple-minded fellow if you expect to get
    anything from me, who am accustomed to take from everyone, and never to
    give anything in return.”

    The covetous are poor givers.

    The Lion and the Shepherd

    A LION, roaming through a forest, trod upon a thorn. Soon afterward he
    came up to a Shepherd and fawned upon him, wagging his tail as if to
    say, “I am a suppliant, and seek your aid.” The Shepherd boldly
    examined the beast, discovered the thorn, and placing his paw upon his
    lap, pulled it out; thus relieved of his pain, the Lion returned into
    the forest. Some time after, the Shepherd, being imprisoned on a false
    accusation, was condemned “to be cast to the Lions” as the punishment
    for his imputed crime. But when the Lion was released from his cage, he
    recognized the Shepherd as the man who healed him, and instead of
    attacking him, approached and placed his foot upon his lap. The King,
    as soon as he heard the tale, ordered the Lion to be set free again in
    the forest, and the Shepherd to be pardoned and restored to his
    friends.

    The Camel and Jupiter

    THE CAMEL, when he saw the Bull adorned with horns, envied him and
    wished that he himself could obtain the same honours. He went to
    Jupiter, and besought him to give him horns. Jupiter, vexed at his
    request because he was not satisfied with his size and strength of
    body, and desired yet more, not only refused to give him horns, but
    even deprived him of a portion of his ears.

    The Panther and the Shepherds

    A PANTHER, by some mischance, fell into a pit. The Shepherds discovered
    him, and some threw sticks at him and pelted him with stones, while
    others, moved with compassion towards one about to die even though no
    one should hurt him, threw in some food to prolong his life. At night
    they returned home, not dreaming of any danger, but supposing that on
    the morrow they would find him dead. The Panther, however, when he had
    recruited his feeble strength, freed himself with a sudden bound from
    the pit, and hastened to his den with rapid steps. After a few days he
    came forth and slaughtered the cattle, and, killing the Shepherds who
    had attacked him, raged with angry fury. Then they who had spared his
    life, fearing for their safety, surrendered to him their flocks and
    begged only for their lives. To them the Panther made this reply: “I
    remember alike those who sought my life with stones, and those who gave
    me food aside, therefore, your fears. I return as an enemy only to
    those who injured me.”

    The Eagle and the Kite

    AN EAGLE, overwhelmed with sorrow, sat upon the branches of a tree in
    company with a Kite. “Why,” said the Kite, “do I see you with such a
    rueful look?” “I seek,” she replied, “a mate suitable for me, and am
    not able to find one.” “Take me,” returned the Kite, “I am much
    stronger than you are.” “Why, are you able to secure the means of
    living by your plunder?” “Well, I have often caught and carried away an
    ostrich in my talons.” The Eagle, persuaded by these words, accepted
    him as her mate. Shortly after the nuptials, the Eagle said, “Fly off
    and bring me back the ostrich you promised me.” The Kite, soaring aloft
    into the air, brought back the shabbiest possible mouse, stinking from
    the length of time it had lain about the fields. “Is this,” said the
    Eagle, “the faithful fulfillment of your promise to me?” The Kite
    replied, “That I might attain your royal hand, there is nothing that I
    would not have promised, however much I knew that I must fail in the
    performance.”

    The Eagle and His Captor

    AN EAGLE was once captured by a man, who immediately clipped his wings
    and put him into his poultry-yard with the other birds, at which
    treatment the Eagle was weighed down with grief. Later, another
    neighbor purchased him and allowed his feathers to grow again. The
    Eagle took flight, and pouncing upon a hare, brought it at once as an
    offering to his benefactor. A Fox, seeing this, exclaimed, “Do not
    cultivate the favour of this man, but of your former owner, lest he
    should again hunt for you and deprive you a second time of your wings.”

    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion

    A KING, whose only son was fond of martial exercises, had a dream in
    which he was warned that his son would be killed by a lion. Afraid the
    dream should prove true, he built for his son a pleasant palace and
    adorned its walls for his amusement with all kinds of life-sized
    animals, among which was the picture of a lion. When the young Prince
    saw this, his grief at being thus confined burst out afresh, and,
    standing near the lion, he said: “O you most detestable of animals!
    through a lying dream of my father’s, which he saw in his sleep, I am
    shut up on your account in this palace as if I had been a girl: what
    shall I now do to you?” With these words he stretched out his hands
    toward a thorn-tree, meaning to cut a stick from its branches so that
    he might beat the lion. But one of the tree’s prickles pierced his
    finger and caused great pain and inflammation, so that the young Prince
    fell down in a fainting fit. A violent fever suddenly set in, from
    which he died not many days later.

    We had better bear our troubles bravely than try to escape them.

    The Cat and Venus

    A CAT fell in love with a handsome young man, and entreated Venus to
    change her into the form of a woman. Venus consented to her request and
    transformed her into a beautiful damsel, so that the youth saw her and
    loved her, and took her home as his bride. While the two were reclining
    in their chamber, Venus wishing to discover if the Cat in her change of
    shape had also altered her habits of life, let down a mouse in the
    middle of the room. The Cat, quite forgetting her present condition,
    started up from the couch and pursued the mouse, wishing to eat it.
    Venus was much disappointed and again caused her to return to her
    former shape.

    Nature exceeds nurture.

    The Eagle and the Beetle

    THE EAGLE and the Beetle were at enmity together, and they destroyed
    one another’s nests. The Eagle gave the first provocation in seizing
    upon and in eating the young ones of the Beetle. The Beetle got by
    stealth at the Eagle’s eggs, and rolled them out of the nest, and
    followed the Eagle even into the presence of Jupiter. On the Eagle
    making his complaint, Jupiter ordered him to make his nest in his lap;
    and while Jupiter had the eggs in his lap, the Beetle came flying about
    him, and Jupiter rising up unawares, to drive him away from his head,
    threw down the eggs, and broke them.

    The weak often revenge themselves on those who use them ill, even
    though they be more powerful.

    The She-Goats and Their Beards

    THE SHE-GOATS having obtained a beard by request to Jupiter, the
    He-Goats were sorely displeased and made complaint that the females
    equaled them in dignity. “Allow them,” said Jupiter, “to enjoy an empty
    honour and to assume the badge of your nobler sex, so long as they are
    not your equals in strength or courage.”

    It matters little if those who are inferior to us in merit should be
    like us in outside appearances.

    The Bald Man and the Fly

    A FLY bit the bare head of a Bald Man who, endeavoring to destroy it,
    gave himself a heavy slap. Escaping, the Fly said mockingly, “You who
    have wished to revenge, even with death, the Prick of a tiny insect,
    see what you have done to yourself to add insult to injury?” The Bald
    Man replied, “I can easily make peace with myself, because I know there
    was no intention to hurt. But you, an ill-favoured and contemptible
    insect who delights in sucking human blood, I wish that I could have
    killed you even if I had incurred a heavier penalty.”

    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea

    A SHIPWRECKED MAN, having been cast upon a certain shore, slept after
    his buffetings with the deep. After a while he awoke, and looking upon
    the Sea, loaded it with reproaches. He argued that it enticed men with
    the calmness of its looks, but when it had induced them to plow its
    waters, it grew rough and destroyed them. The Sea, assuming the form of
    a woman, replied to him: “Blame not me, my good sir, but the winds, for
    I am by my own nature as calm and firm even as this earth; but the
    winds suddenly falling on me create these waves, and lash me into
    fury.”

    The Buffoon and the Countryman

    A RICH NOBLEMAN once opened the theaters without charge to the people,
    and gave a public notice that he would handsomely reward any person who
    invented a new amusement for the occasion. Various public performers
    contended for the prize. Among them came a Buffoon well known among the
    populace for his jokes, and said that he had a kind of entertainment
    which had never been brought out on any stage before. This report being
    spread about made a great stir, and the theater was crowded in every
    part. The Buffoon appeared alone upon the platform, without any
    apparatus or confederates, and the very sense of expectation caused an
    intense silence. He suddenly bent his head towards his bosom and
    imitated the squeaking of a little pig so admirably with his voice that
    the audience declared he had a porker under his cloak, and demanded
    that it should be shaken out. When that was done and nothing was found,
    they cheered the actor, and loaded him with the loudest applause. A
    Countryman in the crowd, observing all that has passed, said, “So help
    me, Hercules, he shall not beat me at that trick!” and at once
    proclaimed that he would do the same thing on the next day, though in a
    much more natural way. On the morrow a still larger crowd assembled in
    the theater, but now partiality for their favourite actor very
    generally prevailed, and the audience came rather to ridicule the
    Countryman than to see the spectacle. Both of the performers appeared
    on the stage. The Buffoon grunted and squeaked away first, and
    obtained, as on the preceding day, the applause and cheers of the
    spectators. Next the Countryman commenced, and pretending that he
    concealed a little pig beneath his clothes (which in truth he did, but
    not suspected by the audience ) contrived to take hold of and to pull
    his ear causing the pig to squeak. The Crowd, however, cried out with
    one consent that the Buffoon had given a far more exact imitation, and
    clamored for the Countryman to be kicked out of the theater. On this
    the rustic produced the little pig from his cloak and showed by the
    most positive proof the greatness of their mistake. “Look here,” he
    said, “this shows what sort of judges you are.”

    The Crow and the Serpent

    A CROW in great want of food saw a Serpent asleep in a sunny nook, and
    flying down, greedily seized him. The Serpent, turning about, bit the
    Crow with a mortal wound. In the agony of death, the bird exclaimed: “O
    unhappy me! who have found in that which I deemed a happy windfall the
    source of my destruction.”

    The Hunter and the Horseman

    A CERTAIN HUNTER, having snared a hare, placed it upon his shoulders
    and set out homewards. On his way he met a man on horseback who begged
    the hare of him, under the pretense of purchasing it. However, when the
    Horseman got the hare, he rode off as fast as he could. The Hunter ran
    after him, as if he was sure of overtaking him, but the Horseman
    increased more and more the distance between them. The Hunter, sorely
    against his will, called out to him and said, “Get along with you! for
    I will now make you a present of the hare.”

    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree

    THE OLIVE-TREE ridiculed the Fig-Tree because, while she was green all
    the year round, the Fig-Tree changed its leaves with the seasons. A
    shower of snow fell upon them, and, finding the Olive full of foliage,
    it settled upon its branches and broke them down with its weight, at
    once despoiling it of its beauty and killing the tree. But finding the
    Fig-Tree denuded of leaves, the snow fell through to the ground, and
    did not injure it at all.

    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun

    ONCE UPON A TIME, when the Sun announced his intention to take a wife,
    the Frogs lifted up their voices in clamor to the sky. Jupiter,
    disturbed by the noise of their croaking, inquired the cause of their
    complaint. One of them said, “The Sun, now while he is single, parches
    up the marsh, and compels us to die miserably in our arid homes. What
    will be our future condition if he should beget other suns?”

    The Brazier and His Dog

    A BRAZIER had a little Dog, which was a great favourite with his
    master, and his constant companion. While he hammered away at his
    metals the Dog slept; but when, on the other hand, he went to dinner
    and began to eat, the Dog woke up and wagged his tail, as if he would
    ask for a share of his meal. His master one day, pretending to be angry
    and shaking his stick at him, said, “You wretched little sluggard! what
    shall I do to you? While I am hammering on the anvil, you sleep on the
    mat; and when I begin to eat after my toil, you wake up and wag your
    tail for food. Do you not know that labor is the source of every
    blessing, and that none but those who work are entitled to eat?”

    FOOTNOTES

    1 (return)
    [ A History of the Literature of Ancient Greece, by K. O. Mueller. Vol.
    i, p. 191. _London_, Parker, 1858.]

    2 (return)
    [ Select Fables of Æsop, and other Fabulists. In three books,
    translated by Robert Dodsley, accompanied with a selection of notes,
    and an Essay on Fable. _Birmingham_, 1864. P. 60.]

    3 (return)
    [ Some of these fables had, no doubt, in the first instance, a primary
    and private interpretation. On the first occasion of their being
    composed they were intended to refer to some passing event, or to some
    individual acts of wrong-doing. Thus, the fables of the “Eagle and the
    Fox” and of the “Fox and Monkey” are supposed to have been written by
    Archilochus, to avenge the injuries done him by Lycambes. So also the
    fables of the “Swollen Fox” and of the “Frogs asking a King” were
    spoken by Æsop for the immediate purpose of reconciling the inhabitants
    of Samos and Athens to their respective rulers, Periander and
    Pisistratus; while the fable of the “Horse and Stag” was composed to
    caution the inhabitants of Himera against granting a bodyguard to
    Phalaris. In a similar manner, the fable from Phædrus, the “Marriage of
    the Sun,” is supposed to have reference to the contemplated union of
    Livia, the daughter of Drusus, with Sejanus the favourite, and minister
    of Trajan. These fables, however, though thus originating in special
    events, and designed at first to meet special circumstances, are so
    admirably constructed as to be fraught with lessons of general utility,
    and of universal application.]

    4 (return)
    [ Hesiod. Opera et Dies, verse 202.]

    5 (return)
    [ Æschylus. Fragment of the Myrmidons. Æschylus speaks of this fable as
    existing before his day. ὡς δ’ ἐστὶ μύθων τῶν Διβυστικῶν λογος. See
    Scholiast on the Aves of Aristophanes, line 808.]

    6 (return)
    [ Fragment. 38, ed. Gaisford. See also Mueller’s History of the
    Literature of Ancient Greece, vol. i. pp. 190–193.]

    7 (return)
    [ M. Bayle has well put this in his account of Æsop. “Il n’y a point
    d’apparence que les fables qui portent aujourd’hui son nom soient les
    mêmes qu’il avait faites; elles viennent bien de lui pour la plupart,
    quant à la matière et la pensée; mais les paroles sont d’un autre.” And
    again, “C’est donc à Hésiode, que j’aimerais mieux attribuer la gloire
    de l’invention; mais sans doute il laissa la chose très imparfaite.
    Esope la perfectionne si heureusement, qu’on l’a regarde comme le vrai
    père de cette sorte de production.”—_Bayle. Dictionnaire Historique_.]

    8 (return)
    [ Plato in Phædone.]

    9 (return)
    [ Apologos en! misit tibi
    Ab usque Rheni limite
    Ausonius nomen Italum
    Præceptor Augusti tui
    Æsopiam trimetriam;
    Quam vertit exili stylo
    Pedestre concinnans opus
    Fandi Titianus artifex.

    _Ausonii Epistola_, xvi. 75–80.]

    10 (return)
    [ Both these publications are in the British Museum, and are placed in
    the library in cases under glass, for the inspection of the curious.]

    11 (return)
    [ Fables may possibly have been not entirely unknown to the mediæval
    scholars. There are two celebrated works which might by some be classed
    amongst works of this description. The one is the “Speculum Sapientiæ,”
    attributed to St. Cyril, Archbishop of Jerusalem, but of a considerably
    later origin, and existing only in Latin. It is divided into four
    books, and consists of long conversations conducted by fictitious
    characters under the figures the beasts of the field and forest, and
    aimed at the rebuke of particular classes of men, the boastful, the
    proud, the luxurious, the wrathful, &c. None of the stories are
    precisely those of Æsop, and none have the concinnity, terseness, and
    unmistakable deduction of the lesson intended to be taught by the
    fable, so conspicuous in the great Greek fabulist. The exact title of
    the book is this: “Speculum Sapientiæ, B. Cyrilli Episcopi: alias
    quadripartitus apologeticus vocatus, in cujus quidem proverbiis omnis
    et totius sapientiæ speculum claret et feliciter incipit.” The other is
    a larger work in two volumes, published in the fourteenth century by
    Cæsar Heisterbach, a Cistercian monk, under the title of “Dialogus
    Miraculorum,” reprinted in 1851. This work consists of conversations in
    which many stories are interwoven on all kinds of subjects. It has no
    correspondence with the pure Æsopian fable.]

    12 (return)
    [ Post-mediæval Preachers, by S. Baring-Gould. Rivingtons, 1865.]

    13 (return)
    [ For an account of this work see the Life of Poggio Bracciolini, by
    the Rev. William Shepherd. Liverpool, 1801.]

    14 (return)
    [ Professor Theodore Bergh. See Classical Museum, No. viii. July,
    1849.]

    15 (return)
    [ Vavassor’s treatise, entitled “De Ludicrâ Dictione” was written A.D.
    1658, at the request of the celebrated M. Balzac (though published
    after his death), for the purpose of showing that the burlesque style
    of writing adopted by Scarron and D’Assouci, and at that time so
    popular in France, had no sanction from the ancient classic writers.
    _Francisci Vavassoris opera omnia_. Amsterdam. 1709.]

    16 (return)
    [ The claims of Babrias also found a warm advocate in the learned
    Frenchman, M. Bayle, who, in his admirable Dictionary, (_Dictionnaire
    Historique et Critique de Pierre Bayle_. Paris, 1820,) gives additional
    arguments in confirmation of the opinions of his learned predecessors,
    Nevelet and Vavassor.]

    17 (return)
    [ Scazonic, or halting, iambics; a choliambic (a lame, halting iambic)
    differs from the iambic Senarius in always having a spondee or trochee
    for its last foot; the fifth foot, to avoid shortness of metre, being
    generally an iambic. See Fables of Babrias, translated by Rev. James
    Davies. Lockwood, 1860. Preface, p. 27.]

    18 (return)
    [ See Dr. Bentley’s Dissertations upon the Epistles of Phalaris.]

    19 (return)
    [ Dr. Bentley’s Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris, and Fables
    of Æsop examined. By the Honourable Charles Boyle.]

    20 (return)
    [ M. Bayle thus characterises this Life of Æsop by Planudes, “Tous les
    habiles gens conviennent que c’est un roman, et que les absurdités
    grossières qui l’on y trouve le rendent indigne de toute créance.”
    _Dictionnaire Historique_. Art. _Esope_.]

    INDEX

    Æthiop
    The Ant and the Dove
    The Ants and the Grasshopper
    The Apes and the Two Travelers
    The Ass and the Charger
    The Ass and His Driver
    The Ass and the Frogs
    The Ass and the Grasshopper
    The Ass and his Masters
    The Ass and his Purchaser
    The Ass and his Shadow
    The Ass and the Horse
    The Ass and the Lapdog
    The Ass and the Mule
    The Ass and the Old Shepherd
    The Ass and the Wolf
    The Ass Carrying the Image
    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion
    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin
    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion
    The Astronomer

    The Bald Man and the Fly
    The Bald Knight
    The Bat And The Weasels
    The Bear and the Fox
    The Bear and the Two Travelers
    The Bee and Jupiter
    The Belly and the Members
    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock
    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat
    The Bitch and her Whelps
    The Blind Man and the Whelp
    The Boasting Traveler
    The Bowman and Lion
    The Boy and the Filberts
    The Boy and the Nettles
    The Boy Bathing
    The Boy hunting Locusts
    The Boys and the Frogs
    The Brazier and His Dog
    The Brother and the Sister
    The Buffoon and the Countryman
    The Bull and the Calf
    The Bull and the Goat
    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter

    The Camel
    The Camel and the Arab
    The Camel and Jupiter
    The Cat and the Birds
    The Cat and the Cock
    The Cat and the Mice
    The Cat and Venus
    The Cobbler Turned Doctor
    The Cock and the Jewel
    The Charcoal-Burner and the Fuller
    The Charger and the Miller
    The Crab and the Fox
    The Crab and its Mother
    The Crow and Mercury
    The Crow and the Pitcher
    The Crow and the Raven
    The Crow and the Serpent
    The Crow and the Sheep

    The Dancing Monkeys
    The Doe and the Lion
    The Dog and the Cook
    The Dog and the Hare
    The Dog and the Oyster
    The Dog and the Shadow
    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox
    The Dog in the Manger
    The Dogs and the Fox
    The Dogs and the Hides
    The Dog’s House
    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat
    The Dove and the Crow

    The Eagle and the Arrow
    The Eagle and the Beetle
    The Eagle and His Captor
    The Eagle and the Fox
    The Eagle and the Jackdaw
    The Eagle and the Kite
    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow

    The Farmer and the Cranes
    The Farmer and the Fox
    The Farmer and the Snake
    The Farmer and His Sons
    The Farmer and the Stork
    The Father And His Sons
    The Father and His Two Daughters
    The Fawn and His Mother
    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle
    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble
    The Fisherman and His Nets
    The Fisherman and the Little Fish
    The Fisherman Piping
    The Fishermen
    The Flea and the Man
    The Flea and the Ox
    The Flea and the Wrestler
    The Flies and the Honey-Pot
    The Fly and the Draught-Mule
    The Fowler and the Viper
    The Fox and the Bramble
    The Fox and the Crane
    The Fox and the Crow
    The Fox and the Goat
    The Fox and the Grapes
    The Fox and the Hedgehog
    The Fox and the Leopard
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Fox and the Mask
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Fox and the Woodcutter
    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail
    The Frogs Asking for a King
    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun

    The Gamecocks and the Partridge
    The Geese and the Cranes
    The Gnat and the Bull
    The Gnat and the Lion
    The Goat and the Ass
    The Goat and the Goatherd
    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats
    The Goods and the Ills
    The Grasshopper and the Owl

    The Hare and the Hound
    The Hare and the Tortoise
    The Hares and the Foxes
    The Hares and the Frogs
    The Hares and the Lions
    The Hart and the Vine
    The Hawk and the Nightingale
    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons
    The Heifer and the Ox
    The Hen and the Golden Eggs
    The Hen and the Swallow
    Hercules and the Wagoner
    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull
    The Horse and the Ass
    The Horse and Groom
    The Horse and his Rider
    The Horse and the Stag
    The Hunter and the Horseman
    The Hunter and the Woodman
    The Huntsman and the Fisherman

    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter

    The Jackdaw and the Doves
    The Jackdaw and the Fox
    Jupiter and the Monkey
    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus

    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Kingdom of the Lion
    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion
    The Kites and the Swans

    The Laborer and the Snake
    The Lamb and the Wolf
    The Lamp
    The Lark and Her Young Ones
    The Lark Burying Her Father
    The Lion and the Boar
    The Lion and the Bull
    The Lion and the Dolphin
    The Lion and the Eagle
    The Lion and the Fox
    The Lion and the Hare
    The Lion and the Mouse
    The Lion and the Shepherd
    The Lion and the Three Bulls
    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox
    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass
    The Lion in a Farmyard
    The Lion in Love
    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant
    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox
    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox
    The Lioness

    The Man and His Two Sweethearts
    The Man and His Wife
    The Man and the Lion
    The Man and the Satyr
    The Man bitten by a Dog
    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog
    The Manslayer
    The Master and His Dogs
    Mercury and the Sculptor
    Mercury and the Workmen
    The Mice and the Weasels
    The Mice in Council
    The Milk-Woman and her Pail
    The Miller, His Son, and their Ass
    The Mischievous Dog
    The Miser
    The Mole and His Mother
    The Monkey and the Camel
    The Monkey and the Dolphin
    The Monkey and the Fishermen
    The Monkeys and their Mother
    The Mother and the Wolf
    The Mountain in Labor
    The Mouse and the Bull
    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk
    The Mule
    The Mules and the Robbers

    The North Wind and the Sun

    The Oak and the Reeds
    The Oak and the Woodcutters
    The Oaks and Jupiter
    The Old Hound
    The Old Lion
    The Old Man and Death
    The Old Woman and the Physician
    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar
    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree
    The One-Eyed Doe
    The Owl and the Birds
    The Ox and the Frog
    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees
    The Oxen and the Butchers

    The Panther and the Shepherds
    The Partridge and the Fowler
    The Peacock and the Crane
    The Peacock and Juno
    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree
    The Peasant and the Eagle
    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury
    The Playful Ass
    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble
    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat
    The Prophet

    The Quack Frog

    The Raven and the Swan
    The Rich Man and the Tanner
    The Rivers and the Sea
    The Rose and the Amaranth

    The Salt Merchant and his Ass
    The Seagull and the Kite
    The Seaside Travelers
    The Seller of Images
    The Serpent and the Eagle
    The She-Goats and their Beards
    The Shepherd and the Dog
    The Shepherd and the Sea
    The Shepherd and the Sheep
    The Shepherd and the Wolf
    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf
    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea
    The Sick Kite
    The Sick Lion
    The Sick Stag
    The Sparrow and the Hare
    The Spendthrift and the Swallow
    The Stag at the Pool
    The Stag in the Ox-Stall
    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep
    The Swallow and the Crow
    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice
    The Swan and the Goose
    The Swollen Fox

    The Thief and his Mother
    The Thief and the Housedog
    The Thief and the Innkeeper
    The Thieves and the Cock
    The Thirsty Pigeon
    The Three Tradesmen
    The Thrush and the Fowler
    The Tortoise and the Eagle
    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse
    The Traveler and Fortune
    The Traveler and his Dog
    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree
    The Trees and the Axe
    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods
    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner
    Truth and the Traveler
    The Two Bags
    The Two Dogs
    The Two Frogs
    The Two Frogs
    The Two Men Who Were Enemies
    The Two Pots
    The Two Soldiers and the Robber
    The Two Travelers and the Axe

    The Vain Jackdaw
    The Vine and the Goat
    The Viper and the File

    The Walnut-Tree
    The Wasp and the Snake
    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer
    The Weasel and the Mice
    The Widow and Her Little Maidens
    The Widow and the Sheep
    The Wild Ass and the Lion
    The Wild Boar and the Fox
    The Wolf and the Crane
    The Wolf and the Fox
    The Wolf and the Goat
    The Wolf and the Horse
    The Wolf and the Housedog
    The Wolf and the Lamb
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Wolf and the Sheep
    The Wolf and the Shepherd
    The Wolf and the Shepherds
    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape
    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
    The Wolves and the Sheep
    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs
    The Woman and her Hen

    ]]>
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    The war of the worlds https://blog.mabo.cc/the-war-of-the-worlds/ https://blog.mabo.cc/the-war-of-the-worlds/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:58 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/the-war-of-the-worlds/

    The war of the worlds

    Aproximadamente 61.003 palavras.

    /

    The War of the Worlds

    by H. G. Wells

    ‘But who shall dwell in these worlds if they be inhabited?
    . . . Are we or they Lords of the World? . . . And
    how are all things made for man?’
    KEPLER (quoted in _The Anatomy of Melancholy_)

    Contents

    BOOK ONE.—THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS

    I. THE EVE OF THE WAR.
    II. THE FALLING STAR.
    III. ON HORSELL COMMON.
    IV. THE CYLINDER OPENS.
    V. THE HEAT-RAY.
    VI. THE HEAT-RAY IN THE CHOBHAM ROAD.
    VII. HOW I REACHED HOME.
    VIII. FRIDAY NIGHT.
    IX. THE FIGHTING BEGINS.
    X. IN THE STORM.
    XI. AT THE WINDOW.
    XII. WHAT I SAW OF THE DESTRUCTION OF WEYBRIDGE AND SHEPPERTON.
    XIII. HOW I FELL IN WITH THE CURATE.
    XIV. IN LONDON.
    XV. WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN SURREY.
    XVI. THE EXODUS FROM LONDON.
    XVII. THE “THUNDER CHILD”.

    BOOK TWO.—THE EARTH UNDER THE MARTIANS

    I. UNDER FOOT.
    II. WHAT WE SAW FROM THE RUINED HOUSE.
    III. THE DAYS OF IMPRISONMENT.
    IV. THE DEATH OF THE CURATE.
    V. THE STILLNESS.
    VI. THE WORK OF FIFTEEN DAYS.
    VII. THE MAN ON PUTNEY HILL.
    VIII. DEAD LONDON.
    IX. WRECKAGE.
    X. THE EPILOGUE.

    BOOK ONE
    THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS

    I.
    THE EVE OF THE WAR.

    No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century
    that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences
    greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied
    themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and
    studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might
    scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of
    water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe
    about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire
    over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do
    the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources
    of human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life
    upon them as impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of
    the mental habits of those departed days. At most terrestrial men
    fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to
    themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the
    gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the
    beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic,
    regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their
    plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great
    disillusionment.

    The planet Mars, I scarcely need remind the reader, revolves about the
    sun at a mean distance of 140,000,000 miles, and the light and heat it
    receives from the sun is barely half of that received by this world. It
    must be, if the nebular hypothesis has any truth, older than our world;
    and long before this earth ceased to be molten, life upon its surface
    must have begun its course. The fact that it is scarcely one seventh of
    the volume of the earth must have accelerated its cooling to the
    temperature at which life could begin. It has air and water and all
    that is necessary for the support of animated existence.

    Yet so vain is man, and so blinded by his vanity, that no writer, up to
    the very end of the nineteenth century, expressed any idea that
    intelligent life might have developed there far, or indeed at all,
    beyond its earthly level. Nor was it generally understood that since
    Mars is older than our earth, with scarcely a quarter of the
    superficial area and remoter from the sun, it necessarily follows that
    it is not only more distant from time’s beginning but nearer its end.

    The secular cooling that must someday overtake our planet has already
    gone far indeed with our neighbour. Its physical condition is still
    largely a mystery, but we know now that even in its equatorial region
    the midday temperature barely approaches that of our coldest winter.
    Its air is much more attenuated than ours, its oceans have shrunk until
    they cover but a third of its surface, and as its slow seasons change
    huge snowcaps gather and melt about either pole and periodically
    inundate its temperate zones. That last stage of exhaustion, which to
    us is still incredibly remote, has become a present-day problem for the
    inhabitants of Mars. The immediate pressure of necessity has brightened
    their intellects, enlarged their powers, and hardened their hearts. And
    looking across space with instruments, and intelligences such as we
    have scarcely dreamed of, they see, at its nearest distance only
    35,000,000 of miles sunward of them, a morning star of hope, our own
    warmer planet, green with vegetation and grey with water, with a cloudy
    atmosphere eloquent of fertility, with glimpses through its drifting
    cloud wisps of broad stretches of populous country and narrow,
    navy-crowded seas.

    And we men, the creatures who inhabit this earth, must be to them at
    least as alien and lowly as are the monkeys and lemurs to us. The
    intellectual side of man already admits that life is an incessant
    struggle for existence, and it would seem that this too is the belief
    of the minds upon Mars. Their world is far gone in its cooling and this
    world is still crowded with life, but crowded only with what they
    regard as inferior animals. To carry warfare sunward is, indeed, their
    only escape from the destruction that, generation after generation,
    creeps upon them.

    And before we judge of them too harshly we must remember what ruthless
    and utter destruction our own species has wrought, not only upon
    animals, such as the vanished bison and the dodo, but upon its inferior
    races. The Tasmanians, in spite of their human likeness, were entirely
    swept out of existence in a war of extermination waged by European
    immigrants, in the space of fifty years. Are we such apostles of mercy
    as to complain if the Martians warred in the same spirit?

    The Martians seem to have calculated their descent with amazing
    subtlety—their mathematical learning is evidently far in excess of
    ours—and to have carried out their preparations with a well-nigh
    perfect unanimity. Had our instruments permitted it, we might have seen
    the gathering trouble far back in the nineteenth century. Men like
    Schiaparelli watched the red planet—it is odd, by-the-bye, that for
    countless centuries Mars has been the star of war—but failed to
    interpret the fluctuating appearances of the markings they mapped so
    well. All that time the Martians must have been getting ready.

    During the opposition of 1894 a great light was seen on the illuminated
    part of the disk, first at the Lick Observatory, then by Perrotin of
    Nice, and then by other observers. English readers heard of it first in
    the issue of _Nature_ dated August 2. I am inclined to think that this
    blaze may have been the casting of the huge gun, in the vast pit sunk
    into their planet, from which their shots were fired at us. Peculiar
    markings, as yet unexplained, were seen near the site of that outbreak
    during the next two oppositions.

    The storm burst upon us six years ago now. As Mars approached
    opposition, Lavelle of Java set the wires of the astronomical exchange
    palpitating with the amazing intelligence of a huge outbreak of
    incandescent gas upon the planet. It had occurred towards midnight of
    the twelfth; and the spectroscope, to which he had at once resorted,
    indicated a mass of flaming gas, chiefly hydrogen, moving with an
    enormous velocity towards this earth. This jet of fire had become
    invisible about a quarter past twelve. He compared it to a colossal
    puff of flame suddenly and violently squirted out of the planet, “as
    flaming gases rushed out of a gun.”

    A singularly appropriate phrase it proved. Yet the next day there was
    nothing of this in the papers except a little note in the _Daily
    Telegraph_, and the world went in ignorance of one of the gravest
    dangers that ever threatened the human race. I might not have heard of
    the eruption at all had I not met Ogilvy, the well-known astronomer, at
    Ottershaw. He was immensely excited at the news, and in the excess of
    his feelings invited me up to take a turn with him that night in a
    scrutiny of the red planet.

    In spite of all that has happened since, I still remember that vigil
    very distinctly: the black and silent observatory, the shadowed lantern
    throwing a feeble glow upon the floor in the corner, the steady ticking
    of the clockwork of the telescope, the little slit in the roof—an
    oblong profundity with the stardust streaked across it. Ogilvy moved
    about, invisible but audible. Looking through the telescope, one saw a
    circle of deep blue and the little round planet swimming in the field.
    It seemed such a little thing, so bright and small and still, faintly
    marked with transverse stripes, and slightly flattened from the perfect
    round. But so little it was, so silvery warm—a pin’s head of light! It
    was as if it quivered, but really this was the telescope vibrating with
    the activity of the clockwork that kept the planet in view.

    As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to
    advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty
    millions of miles it was from us—more than forty millions of miles of
    void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of
    the material universe swims.

    Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light,
    three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the
    unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks
    on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder.
    And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly
    and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer
    every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were
    sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity
    and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one
    on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.

    That night, too, there was another jetting out of gas from the distant
    planet. I saw it. A reddish flash at the edge, the slightest projection
    of the outline just as the chronometer struck midnight; and at that I
    told Ogilvy and he took my place. The night was warm and I was thirsty,
    and I went stretching my legs clumsily and feeling my way in the
    darkness, to the little table where the siphon stood, while Ogilvy
    exclaimed at the streamer of gas that came out towards us.

    That night another invisible missile started on its way to the earth
    from Mars, just a second or so under twenty-four hours after the first
    one. I remember how I sat on the table there in the blackness, with
    patches of green and crimson swimming before my eyes. I wished I had a
    light to smoke by, little suspecting the meaning of the minute gleam I
    had seen and all that it would presently bring me. Ogilvy watched till
    one, and then gave it up; and we lit the lantern and walked over to his
    house. Down below in the darkness were Ottershaw and Chertsey and all
    their hundreds of people, sleeping in peace.

    He was full of speculation that night about the condition of Mars, and
    scoffed at the vulgar idea of its having inhabitants who were
    signalling us. His idea was that meteorites might be falling in a heavy
    shower upon the planet, or that a huge volcanic explosion was in
    progress. He pointed out to me how unlikely it was that organic
    evolution had taken the same direction in the two adjacent planets.

    “The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one,” he
    said.

    Hundreds of observers saw the flame that night and the night after
    about midnight, and again the night after; and so for ten nights, a
    flame each night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one on earth
    has attempted to explain. It may be the gases of the firing caused the
    Martians inconvenience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, visible through
    a powerful telescope on earth as little grey, fluctuating patches,
    spread through the clearness of the planet’s atmosphere and obscured
    its more familiar features.

    Even the daily papers woke up to the disturbances at last, and popular
    notes appeared here, there, and everywhere concerning the volcanoes
    upon Mars. The seriocomic periodical _Punch_, I remember, made a happy
    use of it in the political cartoon. And, all unsuspected, those
    missiles the Martians had fired at us drew earthward, rushing now at a
    pace of many miles a second through the empty gulf of space, hour by
    hour and day by day, nearer and nearer. It seems to me now almost
    incredibly wonderful that, with that swift fate hanging over us, men
    could go about their petty concerns as they did. I remember how
    jubilant Markham was at securing a new photograph of the planet for the
    illustrated paper he edited in those days. People in these latter times
    scarcely realise the abundance and enterprise of our nineteenth-century
    papers. For my own part, I was much occupied in learning to ride the
    bicycle, and busy upon a series of papers discussing the probable
    developments of moral ideas as civilisation progressed.

    One night (the first missile then could scarcely have been 10,000,000
    miles away) I went for a walk with my wife. It was starlight and I
    explained the Signs of the Zodiac to her, and pointed out Mars, a
    bright dot of light creeping zenithward, towards which so many
    telescopes were pointed. It was a warm night. Coming home, a party of
    excursionists from Chertsey or Isleworth passed us singing and playing
    music. There were lights in the upper windows of the houses as the
    people went to bed. From the railway station in the distance came the
    sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into
    melody by the distance. My wife pointed out to me the brightness of the
    red, green, and yellow signal lights hanging in a framework against the
    sky. It seemed so safe and tranquil.

    II.
    THE FALLING STAR.

    Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the
    morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the
    atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and taken it for an ordinary
    falling star. Albin described it as leaving a greenish streak behind it
    that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest authority on
    meteorites, stated that the height of its first appearance was about
    ninety or one hundred miles. It seemed to him that it fell to earth
    about one hundred miles east of him.

    I was at home at that hour and writing in my study; and although my
    French windows face towards Ottershaw and the blind was up (for I loved
    in those days to look up at the night sky), I saw nothing of it. Yet
    this strangest of all things that ever came to earth from outer space
    must have fallen while I was sitting there, visible to me had I only
    looked up as it passed. Some of those who saw its flight say it
    travelled with a hissing sound. I myself heard nothing of that. Many
    people in Berkshire, Surrey, and Middlesex must have seen the fall of
    it, and, at most, have thought that another meteorite had descended. No
    one seems to have troubled to look for the fallen mass that night.

    But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who had seen the shooting
    star and who was persuaded that a meteorite lay somewhere on the common
    between Horsell, Ottershaw, and Woking, rose early with the idea of
    finding it. Find it he did, soon after dawn, and not far from the
    sand-pits. An enormous hole had been made by the impact of the
    projectile, and the sand and gravel had been flung violently in every
    direction over the heath, forming heaps visible a mile and a half away.
    The heather was on fire eastward, and a thin blue smoke rose against
    the dawn.

    The Thing itself lay almost entirely buried in sand, amidst the
    scattered splinters of a fir tree it had shivered to fragments in its
    descent. The uncovered part had the appearance of a huge cylinder,
    caked over and its outline softened by a thick scaly dun-coloured
    incrustation. It had a diameter of about thirty yards. He approached
    the mass, surprised at the size and more so at the shape, since most
    meteorites are rounded more or less completely. It was, however, still
    so hot from its flight through the air as to forbid his near approach.
    A stirring noise within its cylinder he ascribed to the unequal cooling
    of its surface; for at that time it had not occurred to him that it
    might be hollow.

    He remained standing at the edge of the pit that the Thing had made for
    itself, staring at its strange appearance, astonished chiefly at its
    unusual shape and colour, and dimly perceiving even then some evidence
    of design in its arrival. The early morning was wonderfully still, and
    the sun, just clearing the pine trees towards Weybridge, was already
    warm. He did not remember hearing any birds that morning, there was
    certainly no breeze stirring, and the only sounds were the faint
    movements from within the cindery cylinder. He was all alone on the
    common.

    Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some of the grey clinker,
    the ashy incrustation that covered the meteorite, was falling off the
    circular edge of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and raining
    down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly came off and fell with a
    sharp noise that brought his heart into his mouth.

    For a minute he scarcely realised what this meant, and, although the
    heat was excessive, he clambered down into the pit close to the bulk to
    see the Thing more clearly. He fancied even then that the cooling of
    the body might account for this, but what disturbed that idea was the
    fact that the ash was falling only from the end of the cylinder.

    And then he perceived that, very slowly, the circular top of the
    cylinder was rotating on its body. It was such a gradual movement that
    he discovered it only through noticing that a black mark that had been
    near him five minutes ago was now at the other side of the
    circumference. Even then he scarcely understood what this indicated,
    until he heard a muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk
    forward an inch or so. Then the thing came upon him in a flash. The
    cylinder was artificial—hollow—with an end that screwed out! Something
    within the cylinder was unscrewing the top!

    “Good heavens!” said Ogilvy. “There’s a man in it—men in it! Half
    roasted to death! Trying to escape!”

    At once, with a quick mental leap, he linked the Thing with the flash
    upon Mars.

    The thought of the confined creature was so dreadful to him that he
    forgot the heat and went forward to the cylinder to help turn. But
    luckily the dull radiation arrested him before he could burn his hands
    on the still-glowing metal. At that he stood irresolute for a moment,
    then turned, scrambled out of the pit, and set off running wildly into
    Woking. The time then must have been somewhere about six o’clock. He
    met a waggoner and tried to make him understand, but the tale he told
    and his appearance were so wild—his hat had fallen off in the pit—that
    the man simply drove on. He was equally unsuccessful with the potman
    who was just unlocking the doors of the public-house by Horsell Bridge.
    The fellow thought he was a lunatic at large and made an unsuccessful
    attempt to shut him into the taproom. That sobered him a little; and
    when he saw Henderson, the London journalist, in his garden, he called
    over the palings and made himself understood.

    “Henderson,” he called, “you saw that shooting star last night?”

    “Well?” said Henderson.

    “It’s out on Horsell Common now.”

    “Good Lord!” said Henderson. “Fallen meteorite! That’s good.”

    “But it’s something more than a meteorite. It’s a cylinder—an
    artificial cylinder, man! And there’s something inside.”

    Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand.

    “What’s that?” he said. He was deaf in one ear.

    Ogilvy told him all that he had seen. Henderson was a minute or so
    taking it in. Then he dropped his spade, snatched up his jacket, and
    came out into the road. The two men hurried back at once to the common,
    and found the cylinder still lying in the same position. But now the
    sounds inside had ceased, and a thin circle of bright metal showed
    between the top and the body of the cylinder. Air was either entering
    or escaping at the rim with a thin, sizzling sound.

    They listened, rapped on the scaly burnt metal with a stick, and,
    meeting with no response, they both concluded the man or men inside
    must be insensible or dead.

    Of course the two were quite unable to do anything. They shouted
    consolation and promises, and went off back to the town again to get
    help. One can imagine them, covered with sand, excited and disordered,
    running up the little street in the bright sunlight just as the shop
    folks were taking down their shutters and people were opening their
    bedroom windows. Henderson went into the railway station at once, in
    order to telegraph the news to London. The newspaper articles had
    prepared men’s minds for the reception of the idea.

    By eight o’clock a number of boys and unemployed men had already
    started for the common to see the “dead men from Mars.” That was the
    form the story took. I heard of it first from my newspaper boy about a
    quarter to nine when I went out to get my _Daily Chronicle_. I was
    naturally startled, and lost no time in going out and across the
    Ottershaw bridge to the sand-pits.

    III.
    ON HORSELL COMMON.

    I found a little crowd of perhaps twenty people surrounding the huge
    hole in which the cylinder lay. I have already described the appearance
    of that colossal bulk, embedded in the ground. The turf and gravel
    about it seemed charred as if by a sudden explosion. No doubt its
    impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy were not there.
    I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and
    had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house.

    There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their
    feet dangling, and amusing themselves—until I stopped them—by throwing
    stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they
    began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders.

    Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed
    sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little
    boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to
    hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of
    the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical
    ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table
    like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had
    left it. I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses
    was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was
    there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I
    heard a faint movement under my feet. The top had certainly ceased to
    rotate.

    It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this
    object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no
    more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the
    road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It
    required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the
    grey scale of the Thing was no common oxide, that the yellowish-white
    metal that gleamed in the crack between the lid and the cylinder had an
    unfamiliar hue. “Extra-terrestrial” had no meaning for most of the
    onlookers.

    At that time it was quite clear in my own mind that the Thing had come
    from the planet Mars, but I judged it improbable that it contained any
    living creature. I thought the unscrewing might be automatic. In spite
    of Ogilvy, I still believed that there were men in Mars. My mind ran
    fancifully on the possibilities of its containing manuscript, on the
    difficulties in translation that might arise, whether we should find
    coins and models in it, and so forth. Yet it was a little too large for
    assurance on this idea. I felt an impatience to see it opened. About
    eleven, as nothing seemed happening, I walked back, full of such
    thought, to my home in Maybury. But I found it difficult to get to work
    upon my abstract investigations.

    In the afternoon the appearance of the common had altered very much.
    The early editions of the evening papers had startled London with
    enormous headlines:

    “A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS.”

    “REMARKABLE STORY FROM WOKING,”

    and so forth. In addition, Ogilvy’s wire to the Astronomical Exchange
    had roused every observatory in the three kingdoms.

    There were half a dozen flys or more from the Woking station standing
    in the road by the sand-pits, a basket-chaise from Chobham, and a
    rather lordly carriage. Besides that, there was quite a heap of
    bicycles. In addition, a large number of people must have walked, in
    spite of the heat of the day, from Woking and Chertsey, so that there
    was altogether quite a considerable crowd—one or two gaily dressed
    ladies among the others.

    It was glaringly hot, not a cloud in the sky nor a breath of wind, and
    the only shadow was that of the few scattered pine trees. The burning
    heather had been extinguished, but the level ground towards Ottershaw
    was blackened as far as one could see, and still giving off vertical
    streamers of smoke. An enterprising sweet-stuff dealer in the Chobham
    Road had sent up his son with a barrow-load of green apples and ginger
    beer.

    Going to the edge of the pit, I found it occupied by a group of about
    half a dozen men—Henderson, Ogilvy, and a tall, fair-haired man that I
    afterwards learned was Stent, the Astronomer Royal, with several
    workmen wielding spades and pickaxes. Stent was giving directions in a
    clear, high-pitched voice. He was standing on the cylinder, which was
    now evidently much cooler; his face was crimson and streaming with
    perspiration, and something seemed to have irritated him.

    A large portion of the cylinder had been uncovered, though its lower
    end was still embedded. As soon as Ogilvy saw me among the staring
    crowd on the edge of the pit he called to me to come down, and asked me
    if I would mind going over to see Lord Hilton, the lord of the manor.

    The growing crowd, he said, was becoming a serious impediment to their
    excavations, especially the boys. They wanted a light railing put up,
    and help to keep the people back. He told me that a faint stirring was
    occasionally still audible within the case, but that the workmen had
    failed to unscrew the top, as it afforded no grip to them. The case
    appeared to be enormously thick, and it was possible that the faint
    sounds we heard represented a noisy tumult in the interior.

    I was very glad to do as he asked, and so become one of the privileged
    spectators within the contemplated enclosure. I failed to find Lord
    Hilton at his house, but I was told he was expected from London by the
    six o’clock train from Waterloo; and as it was then about a quarter
    past five, I went home, had some tea, and walked up to the station to
    waylay him.

    IV.
    THE CYLINDER OPENS.

    When I returned to the common the sun was setting. Scattered groups
    were hurrying from the direction of Woking, and one or two persons were
    returning. The crowd about the pit had increased, and stood out black
    against the lemon yellow of the sky—a couple of hundred people,
    perhaps. There were raised voices, and some sort of struggle appeared
    to be going on about the pit. Strange imaginings passed through my
    mind. As I drew nearer I heard Stent’s voice:

    “Keep back! Keep back!”

    A boy came running towards me.

    “It’s a-movin’,” he said to me as he passed; “a-screwin’ and a-screwin’
    out. I don’t like it. I’m a-goin’ ’ome, I am.”

    I went on to the crowd. There were really, I should think, two or three
    hundred people elbowing and jostling one another, the one or two ladies
    there being by no means the least active.

    “He’s fallen in the pit!” cried some one.

    “Keep back!” said several.

    The crowd swayed a little, and I elbowed my way through. Every one
    seemed greatly excited. I heard a peculiar humming sound from the pit.

    “I say!” said Ogilvy; “help keep these idiots back. We don’t know
    what’s in the confounded thing, you know!”

    I saw a young man, a shop assistant in Woking I believe he was,
    standing on the cylinder and trying to scramble out of the hole again.
    The crowd had pushed him in.

    The end of the cylinder was being screwed out from within. Nearly two
    feet of shining screw projected. Somebody blundered against me, and I
    narrowly missed being pitched onto the top of the screw. I turned, and
    as I did so the screw must have come out, for the lid of the cylinder
    fell upon the gravel with a ringing concussion. I stuck my elbow into
    the person behind me, and turned my head towards the Thing again. For a
    moment that circular cavity seemed perfectly black. I had the sunset in
    my eyes.

    I think everyone expected to see a man emerge—possibly something a
    little unlike us terrestrial men, but in all essentials a man. I know I
    did. But, looking, I presently saw something stirring within the
    shadow: greyish billowy movements, one above another, and then two
    luminous disks—like eyes. Then something resembling a little grey
    snake, about the thickness of a walking stick, coiled up out of the
    writhing middle, and wriggled in the air towards me—and then another.

    A sudden chill came over me. There was a loud shriek from a woman
    behind. I half turned, keeping my eyes fixed upon the cylinder still,
    from which other tentacles were now projecting, and began pushing my
    way back from the edge of the pit. I saw astonishment giving place to
    horror on the faces of the people about me. I heard inarticulate
    exclamations on all sides. There was a general movement backwards. I
    saw the shopman struggling still on the edge of the pit. I found myself
    alone, and saw the people on the other side of the pit running off,
    Stent among them. I looked again at the cylinder, and ungovernable
    terror gripped me. I stood petrified and staring.

    A big greyish rounded bulk, the size, perhaps, of a bear, was rising
    slowly and painfully out of the cylinder. As it bulged up and caught
    the light, it glistened like wet leather.

    Two large dark-coloured eyes were regarding me steadfastly. The mass
    that framed them, the head of the thing, was rounded, and had, one
    might say, a face. There was a mouth under the eyes, the lipless brim
    of which quivered and panted, and dropped saliva. The whole creature
    heaved and pulsated convulsively. A lank tentacular appendage gripped
    the edge of the cylinder, another swayed in the air.

    Those who have never seen a living Martian can scarcely imagine the
    strange horror of its appearance. The peculiar V-shaped mouth with its
    pointed upper lip, the absence of brow ridges, the absence of a chin
    beneath the wedgelike lower lip, the incessant quivering of this mouth,
    the Gorgon groups of tentacles, the tumultuous breathing of the lungs
    in a strange atmosphere, the evident heaviness and painfulness of
    movement due to the greater gravitational energy of the earth—above
    all, the extraordinary intensity of the immense eyes—were at once
    vital, intense, inhuman, crippled and monstrous. There was something
    fungoid in the oily brown skin, something in the clumsy deliberation of
    the tedious movements unspeakably nasty. Even at this first encounter,
    this first glimpse, I was overcome with disgust and dread.

    Suddenly the monster vanished. It had toppled over the brim of the
    cylinder and fallen into the pit, with a thud like the fall of a great
    mass of leather. I heard it give a peculiar thick cry, and forthwith
    another of these creatures appeared darkly in the deep shadow of the
    aperture.

    I turned and, running madly, made for the first group of trees, perhaps
    a hundred yards away; but I ran slantingly and stumbling, for I could
    not avert my face from these things.

    There, among some young pine trees and furze bushes, I stopped,
    panting, and waited further developments. The common round the
    sand-pits was dotted with people, standing like myself in a
    half-fascinated terror, staring at these creatures, or rather at the
    heaped gravel at the edge of the pit in which they lay. And then, with
    a renewed horror, I saw a round, black object bobbing up and down on
    the edge of the pit. It was the head of the shopman who had fallen in,
    but showing as a little black object against the hot western sun. Now
    he got his shoulder and knee up, and again he seemed to slip back until
    only his head was visible. Suddenly he vanished, and I could have
    fancied a faint shriek had reached me. I had a momentary impulse to go
    back and help him that my fears overruled.

    Everything was then quite invisible, hidden by the deep pit and the
    heap of sand that the fall of the cylinder had made. Anyone coming
    along the road from Chobham or Woking would have been amazed at the
    sight—a dwindling multitude of perhaps a hundred people or more
    standing in a great irregular circle, in ditches, behind bushes, behind
    gates and hedges, saying little to one another and that in short,
    excited shouts, and staring, staring hard at a few heaps of sand. The
    barrow of ginger beer stood, a queer derelict, black against the
    burning sky, and in the sand-pits was a row of deserted vehicles with
    their horses feeding out of nosebags or pawing the ground.

    V.
    THE HEAT-RAY.

    After the glimpse I had had of the Martians emerging from the cylinder
    in which they had come to the earth from their planet, a kind of
    fascination paralysed my actions. I remained standing knee-deep in the
    heather, staring at the mound that hid them. I was a battleground of
    fear and curiosity.

    I did not dare to go back towards the pit, but I felt a passionate
    longing to peer into it. I began walking, therefore, in a big curve,
    seeking some point of vantage and continually looking at the sand-heaps
    that hid these new-comers to our earth. Once a leash of thin black
    whips, like the arms of an octopus, flashed across the sunset and was
    immediately withdrawn, and afterwards a thin rod rose up, joint by
    joint, bearing at its apex a circular disk that spun with a wobbling
    motion. What could be going on there?

    Most of the spectators had gathered in one or two groups—one a little
    crowd towards Woking, the other a knot of people in the direction of
    Chobham. Evidently they shared my mental conflict. There were few near
    me. One man I approached—he was, I perceived, a neighbour of mine,
    though I did not know his name—and accosted. But it was scarcely a time
    for articulate conversation.

    “What ugly _brutes_!” he said. “Good God! What ugly brutes!” He
    repeated this over and over again.

    “Did you see a man in the pit?” I said; but he made no answer to that.
    We became silent, and stood watching for a time side by side, deriving,
    I fancy, a certain comfort in one another’s company. Then I shifted my
    position to a little knoll that gave me the advantage of a yard or more
    of elevation and when I looked for him presently he was walking towards
    Woking.

    The sunset faded to twilight before anything further happened. The
    crowd far away on the left, towards Woking, seemed to grow, and I heard
    now a faint murmur from it. The little knot of people towards Chobham
    dispersed. There was scarcely an intimation of movement from the pit.

    It was this, as much as anything, that gave people courage, and I
    suppose the new arrivals from Woking also helped to restore confidence.
    At any rate, as the dusk came on a slow, intermittent movement upon the
    sand-pits began, a movement that seemed to gather force as the
    stillness of the evening about the cylinder remained unbroken. Vertical
    black figures in twos and threes would advance, stop, watch, and
    advance again, spreading out as they did so in a thin irregular
    crescent that promised to enclose the pit in its attenuated horns. I,
    too, on my side began to move towards the pit.

    Then I saw some cabmen and others had walked boldly into the sand-pits,
    and heard the clatter of hoofs and the gride of wheels. I saw a lad
    trundling off the barrow of apples. And then, within thirty yards of
    the pit, advancing from the direction of Horsell, I noted a little
    black knot of men, the foremost of whom was waving a white flag.

    This was the Deputation. There had been a hasty consultation, and since
    the Martians were evidently, in spite of their repulsive forms,
    intelligent creatures, it had been resolved to show them, by
    approaching them with signals, that we too were intelligent.

    Flutter, flutter, went the flag, first to the right, then to the left.
    It was too far for me to recognise anyone there, but afterwards I
    learned that Ogilvy, Stent, and Henderson were with others in this
    attempt at communication. This little group had in its advance dragged
    inward, so to speak, the circumference of the now almost complete
    circle of people, and a number of dim black figures followed it at
    discreet distances.

    Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a quantity of luminous
    greenish smoke came out of the pit in three distinct puffs, which drove
    up, one after the other, straight into the still air.

    This smoke (or flame, perhaps, would be the better word for it) was so
    bright that the deep blue sky overhead and the hazy stretches of brown
    common towards Chertsey, set with black pine trees, seemed to darken
    abruptly as these puffs arose, and to remain the darker after their
    dispersal. At the same time a faint hissing sound became audible.

    Beyond the pit stood the little wedge of people with the white flag at
    its apex, arrested by these phenomena, a little knot of small vertical
    black shapes upon the black ground. As the green smoke arose, their
    faces flashed out pallid green, and faded again as it vanished. Then
    slowly the hissing passed into a humming, into a long, loud, droning
    noise. Slowly a humped shape rose out of the pit, and the ghost of a
    beam of light seemed to flicker out from it.

    Forthwith flashes of actual flame, a bright glare leaping from one to
    another, sprang from the scattered group of men. It was as if some
    invisible jet impinged upon them and flashed into white flame. It was
    as if each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire.

    Then, by the light of their own destruction, I saw them staggering and
    falling, and their supporters turning to run.

    I stood staring, not as yet realising that this was death leaping from
    man to man in that little distant crowd. All I felt was that it was
    something very strange. An almost noiseless and blinding flash of
    light, and a man fell headlong and lay still; and as the unseen shaft
    of heat passed over them, pine trees burst into fire, and every dry
    furze bush became with one dull thud a mass of flames. And far away
    towards Knaphill I saw the flashes of trees and hedges and wooden
    buildings suddenly set alight.

    It was sweeping round swiftly and steadily, this flaming death, this
    invisible, inevitable sword of heat. I perceived it coming towards me
    by the flashing bushes it touched, and was too astounded and stupefied
    to stir. I heard the crackle of fire in the sand-pits and the sudden
    squeal of a horse that was as suddenly stilled. Then it was as if an
    invisible yet intensely heated finger were drawn through the heather
    between me and the Martians, and all along a curving line beyond the
    sand-pits the dark ground smoked and crackled. Something fell with a
    crash far away to the left where the road from Woking station opens out
    on the common. Forth-with the hissing and humming ceased, and the
    black, dome-like object sank slowly out of sight into the pit.

    All this had happened with such swiftness that I had stood motionless,
    dumbfounded and dazzled by the flashes of light. Had that death swept
    through a full circle, it must inevitably have slain me in my surprise.
    But it passed and spared me, and left the night about me suddenly dark
    and unfamiliar.

    The undulating common seemed now dark almost to blackness, except where
    its roadways lay grey and pale under the deep blue sky of the early
    night. It was dark, and suddenly void of men. Overhead the stars were
    mustering, and in the west the sky was still a pale, bright, almost
    greenish blue. The tops of the pine trees and the roofs of Horsell came
    out sharp and black against the western afterglow. The Martians and
    their appliances were altogether invisible, save for that thin mast
    upon which their restless mirror wobbled. Patches of bush and isolated
    trees here and there smoked and glowed still, and the houses towards
    Woking station were sending up spires of flame into the stillness of
    the evening air.

    Nothing was changed save for that and a terrible astonishment. The
    little group of black specks with the flag of white had been swept out
    of existence, and the stillness of the evening, so it seemed to me, had
    scarcely been broken.

    It came to me that I was upon this dark common, helpless, unprotected,
    and alone. Suddenly, like a thing falling upon me from without,
    came—fear.

    With an effort I turned and began a stumbling run through the heather.

    The fear I felt was no rational fear, but a panic terror not only of
    the Martians, but of the dusk and stillness all about me. Such an
    extraordinary effect in unmanning me it had that I ran weeping silently
    as a child might do. Once I had turned, I did not dare to look back.

    I remember I felt an extraordinary persuasion that I was being played
    with, that presently, when I was upon the very verge of safety, this
    mysterious death—as swift as the passage of light—would leap after me
    from the pit about the cylinder, and strike me down.

    VI.
    THE HEAT-RAY IN THE CHOBHAM ROAD.

    It is still a matter of wonder how the Martians are able to slay men so
    swiftly and so silently. Many think that in some way they are able to
    generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute
    non-conductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam
    against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror
    of unknown composition, much as the parabolic mirror of a lighthouse
    projects a beam of light. But no one has absolutely proved these
    details. However it is done, it is certain that a beam of heat is the
    essence of the matter. Heat, and invisible, instead of visible, light.
    Whatever is combustible flashes into flame at its touch, lead runs like
    water, it softens iron, cracks and melts glass, and when it falls upon
    water, incontinently that explodes into steam.

    That night nearly forty people lay under the starlight about the pit,
    charred and distorted beyond recognition, and all night long the common
    from Horsell to Maybury was deserted and brightly ablaze.

    The news of the massacre probably reached Chobham, Woking, and
    Ottershaw about the same time. In Woking the shops had closed when the
    tragedy happened, and a number of people, shop people and so forth,
    attracted by the stories they had heard, were walking over the Horsell
    Bridge and along the road between the hedges that runs out at last upon
    the common. You may imagine the young people brushed up after the
    labours of the day, and making this novelty, as they would make any
    novelty, the excuse for walking together and enjoying a trivial
    flirtation. You may figure to yourself the hum of voices along the road
    in the gloaming. . . .

    As yet, of course, few people in Woking even knew that the cylinder had
    opened, though poor Henderson had sent a messenger on a bicycle to the
    post office with a special wire to an evening paper.

    As these folks came out by twos and threes upon the open, they found
    little knots of people talking excitedly and peering at the spinning
    mirror over the sand-pits, and the newcomers were, no doubt, soon
    infected by the excitement of the occasion.

    By half past eight, when the Deputation was destroyed, there may have
    been a crowd of three hundred people or more at this place, besides
    those who had left the road to approach the Martians nearer. There were
    three policemen too, one of whom was mounted, doing their best, under
    instructions from Stent, to keep the people back and deter them from
    approaching the cylinder. There was some booing from those more
    thoughtless and excitable souls to whom a crowd is always an occasion
    for noise and horse-play.

    Stent and Ogilvy, anticipating some possibilities of a collision, had
    telegraphed from Horsell to the barracks as soon as the Martians
    emerged, for the help of a company of soldiers to protect these strange
    creatures from violence. After that they returned to lead that
    ill-fated advance. The description of their death, as it was seen by
    the crowd, tallies very closely with my own impressions: the three
    puffs of green smoke, the deep humming note, and the flashes of flame.

    But that crowd of people had a far narrower escape than mine. Only the
    fact that a hummock of heathery sand intercepted the lower part of the
    Heat-Ray saved them. Had the elevation of the parabolic mirror been a
    few yards higher, none could have lived to tell the tale. They saw the
    flashes and the men falling and an invisible hand, as it were, lit the
    bushes as it hurried towards them through the twilight. Then, with a
    whistling note that rose above the droning of the pit, the beam swung
    close over their heads, lighting the tops of the beech trees that line
    the road, and splitting the bricks, smashing the windows, firing the
    window frames, and bringing down in crumbling ruin a portion of the
    gable of the house nearest the corner.

    In the sudden thud, hiss, and glare of the igniting trees, the
    panic-stricken crowd seems to have swayed hesitatingly for some
    moments. Sparks and burning twigs began to fall into the road, and
    single leaves like puffs of flame. Hats and dresses caught fire. Then
    came a crying from the common. There were shrieks and shouts, and
    suddenly a mounted policeman came galloping through the confusion with
    his hands clasped over his head, screaming.

    “They’re coming!” a woman shrieked, and incontinently everyone was
    turning and pushing at those behind, in order to clear their way to
    Woking again. They must have bolted as blindly as a flock of sheep.
    Where the road grows narrow and black between the high banks the crowd
    jammed, and a desperate struggle occurred. All that crowd did not
    escape; three persons at least, two women and a little boy, were
    crushed and trampled there, and left to die amid the terror and the
    darkness.

    VII.
    HOW I REACHED HOME.

    For my own part, I remember nothing of my flight except the stress of
    blundering against trees and stumbling through the heather. All about
    me gathered the invisible terrors of the Martians; that pitiless sword
    of heat seemed whirling to and fro, flourishing overhead before it
    descended and smote me out of life. I came into the road between the
    crossroads and Horsell, and ran along this to the crossroads.

    At last I could go no further; I was exhausted with the violence of my
    emotion and of my flight, and I staggered and fell by the wayside. That
    was near the bridge that crosses the canal by the gasworks. I fell and
    lay still.

    I must have remained there some time.

    I sat up, strangely perplexed. For a moment, perhaps, I could not
    clearly understand how I came there. My terror had fallen from me like
    a garment. My hat had gone, and my collar had burst away from its
    fastener. A few minutes before, there had only been three real things
    before me—the immensity of the night and space and nature, my own
    feebleness and anguish, and the near approach of death. Now it was as
    if something turned over, and the point of view altered abruptly. There
    was no sensible transition from one state of mind to the other. I was
    immediately the self of every day again—a decent, ordinary citizen. The
    silent common, the impulse of my flight, the starting flames, were as
    if they had been in a dream. I asked myself had these latter things
    indeed happened? I could not credit it.

    I rose and walked unsteadily up the steep incline of the bridge. My
    mind was blank wonder. My muscles and nerves seemed drained of their
    strength. I dare say I staggered drunkenly. A head rose over the arch,
    and the figure of a workman carrying a basket appeared. Beside him ran
    a little boy. He passed me, wishing me good night. I was minded to
    speak to him, but did not. I answered his greeting with a meaningless
    mumble and went on over the bridge.

    Over the Maybury arch a train, a billowing tumult of white, firelit
    smoke, and a long caterpillar of lighted windows, went flying
    south—clatter, clatter, clap, rap, and it had gone. A dim group of
    people talked in the gate of one of the houses in the pretty little row
    of gables that was called Oriental Terrace. It was all so real and so
    familiar. And that behind me! It was frantic, fantastic! Such things, I
    told myself, could not be.

    Perhaps I am a man of exceptional moods. I do not know how far my
    experience is common. At times I suffer from the strangest sense of
    detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all
    from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time, out
    of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all. This feeling was
    very strong upon me that night. Here was another side to my dream.

    But the trouble was the blank incongruity of this serenity and the
    swift death flying yonder, not two miles away. There was a noise of
    business from the gasworks, and the electric lamps were all alight. I
    stopped at the group of people.

    “What news from the common?” said I.

    There were two men and a woman at the gate.

    “Eh?” said one of the men, turning.

    “What news from the common?” I said.

    “Ain’t yer just _been_ there?” asked the men.

    “People seem fair silly about the common,” said the woman over the
    gate. “What’s it all abart?”

    “Haven’t you heard of the men from Mars?” said I; “the creatures from
    Mars?”

    “Quite enough,” said the woman over the gate. “Thenks;” and all three
    of them laughed.

    I felt foolish and angry. I tried and found I could not tell them what
    I had seen. They laughed again at my broken sentences.

    “You’ll hear more yet,” I said, and went on to my home.

    I startled my wife at the doorway, so haggard was I. I went into the
    dining room, sat down, drank some wine, and so soon as I could collect
    myself sufficiently I told her the things I had seen. The dinner, which
    was a cold one, had already been served, and remained neglected on the
    table while I told my story.

    “There is one thing,” I said, to allay the fears I had aroused; “they
    are the most sluggish things I ever saw crawl. They may keep the pit
    and kill people who come near them, but they cannot get out of it. . .
    . But the horror of them!”

    “Don’t, dear!” said my wife, knitting her brows and putting her hand on
    mine.

    “Poor Ogilvy!” I said. “To think he may be lying dead there!”

    My wife at least did not find my experience incredible. When I saw how
    deadly white her face was, I ceased abruptly.

    “They may come here,” she said again and again.

    I pressed her to take wine, and tried to reassure her.

    “They can scarcely move,” I said.

    I began to comfort her and myself by repeating all that Ogilvy had told
    me of the impossibility of the Martians establishing themselves on the
    earth. In particular I laid stress on the gravitational difficulty. On
    the surface of the earth the force of gravity is three times what it is
    on the surface of Mars. A Martian, therefore, would weigh three times
    more than on Mars, albeit his muscular strength would be the same. His
    own body would be a cope of lead to him, therefore. That, indeed, was
    the general opinion. Both _The Times_ and the _Daily Telegraph_, for
    instance, insisted on it the next morning, and both overlooked, just as
    I did, two obvious modifying influences.

    The atmosphere of the earth, we now know, contains far more oxygen or
    far less argon (whichever way one likes to put it) than does Mars’. The
    invigorating influences of this excess of oxygen upon the Martians
    indisputably did much to counterbalance the increased weight of their
    bodies. And, in the second place, we all overlooked the fact that such
    mechanical intelligence as the Martian possessed was quite able to
    dispense with muscular exertion at a pinch.

    But I did not consider these points at the time, and so my reasoning
    was dead against the chances of the invaders. With wine and food, the
    confidence of my own table, and the necessity of reassuring my wife, I
    grew by insensible degrees courageous and secure.

    “They have done a foolish thing,” said I, fingering my wineglass. “They
    are dangerous because, no doubt, they are mad with terror. Perhaps they
    expected to find no living things—certainly no intelligent living
    things.”

    “A shell in the pit,” said I, “if the worst comes to the worst, will
    kill them all.”

    The intense excitement of the events had no doubt left my perceptive
    powers in a state of erethism. I remember that dinner table with
    extraordinary vividness even now. My dear wife’s sweet anxious face
    peering at me from under the pink lamp shade, the white cloth with its
    silver and glass table furniture—for in those days even philosophical
    writers had many little luxuries—the crimson-purple wine in my glass,
    are photographically distinct. At the end of it I sat, tempering nuts
    with a cigarette, regretting Ogilvy’s rashness, and denouncing the
    short-sighted timidity of the Martians.

    So some respectable dodo in the Mauritius might have lorded it in his
    nest, and discussed the arrival of that shipful of pitiless sailors in
    want of animal food. “We will peck them to death tomorrow, my dear.”

    I did not know it, but that was the last civilised dinner I was to eat
    for very many strange and terrible days.

    VIII.
    FRIDAY NIGHT.

    The most extraordinary thing to my mind, of all the strange and
    wonderful things that happened upon that Friday, was the dovetailing of
    the commonplace habits of our social order with the first beginnings of
    the series of events that was to topple that social order headlong. If
    on Friday night you had taken a pair of compasses and drawn a circle
    with a radius of five miles round the Woking sand-pits, I doubt if you
    would have had one human being outside it, unless it were some relation
    of Stent or of the three or four cyclists or London people lying dead
    on the common, whose emotions or habits were at all affected by the
    new-comers. Many people had heard of the cylinder, of course, and
    talked about it in their leisure, but it certainly did not make the
    sensation that an ultimatum to Germany would have done.

    In London that night poor Henderson’s telegram describing the gradual
    unscrewing of the shot was judged to be a canard, and his evening
    paper, after wiring for authentication from him and receiving no
    reply—the man was killed—decided not to print a special edition.

    Even within the five-mile circle the great majority of people were
    inert. I have already described the behaviour of the men and women to
    whom I spoke. All over the district people were dining and supping;
    working men were gardening after the labours of the day, children were
    being put to bed, young people were wandering through the lanes
    love-making, students sat over their books.

    Maybe there was a murmur in the village streets, a novel and dominant
    topic in the public-houses, and here and there a messenger, or even an
    eye-witness of the later occurrences, caused a whirl of excitement, a
    shouting, and a running to and fro; but for the most part the daily
    routine of working, eating, drinking, sleeping, went on as it had done
    for countless years—as though no planet Mars existed in the sky. Even
    at Woking station and Horsell and Chobham that was the case.

    In Woking junction, until a late hour, trains were stopping and going
    on, others were shunting on the sidings, passengers were alighting and
    waiting, and everything was proceeding in the most ordinary way. A boy
    from the town, trenching on Smith’s monopoly, was selling papers with
    the afternoon’s news. The ringing impact of trucks, the sharp whistle
    of the engines from the junction, mingled with their shouts of “Men
    from Mars!” Excited men came into the station about nine o’clock with
    incredible tidings, and caused no more disturbance than drunkards might
    have done. People rattling Londonwards peered into the darkness outside
    the carriage windows, and saw only a rare, flickering, vanishing spark
    dance up from the direction of Horsell, a red glow and a thin veil of
    smoke driving across the stars, and thought that nothing more serious
    than a heath fire was happening. It was only round the edge of the
    common that any disturbance was perceptible. There were half a dozen
    villas burning on the Woking border. There were lights in all the
    houses on the common side of the three villages, and the people there
    kept awake till dawn.

    A curious crowd lingered restlessly, people coming and going but the
    crowd remaining, both on the Chobham and Horsell bridges. One or two
    adventurous souls, it was afterwards found, went into the darkness and
    crawled quite near the Martians; but they never returned, for now and
    again a light-ray, like the beam of a warship’s searchlight swept the
    common, and the Heat-Ray was ready to follow. Save for such, that big
    area of common was silent and desolate, and the charred bodies lay
    about on it all night under the stars, and all the next day. A noise of
    hammering from the pit was heard by many people.

    So you have the state of things on Friday night. In the centre,
    sticking into the skin of our old planet Earth like a poisoned dart,
    was this cylinder. But the poison was scarcely working yet. Around it
    was a patch of silent common, smouldering in places, and with a few
    dark, dimly seen objects lying in contorted attitudes here and there.
    Here and there was a burning bush or tree. Beyond was a fringe of
    excitement, and farther than that fringe the inflammation had not crept
    as yet. In the rest of the world the stream of life still flowed as it
    had flowed for immemorial years. The fever of war that would presently
    clog vein and artery, deaden nerve and destroy brain, had still to
    develop.

    All night long the Martians were hammering and stirring, sleepless,
    indefatigable, at work upon the machines they were making ready, and
    ever and again a puff of greenish-white smoke whirled up to the starlit
    sky.

    About eleven a company of soldiers came through Horsell, and deployed
    along the edge of the common to form a cordon. Later a second company
    marched through Chobham to deploy on the north side of the common.
    Several officers from the Inkerman barracks had been on the common
    earlier in the day, and one, Major Eden, was reported to be missing.
    The colonel of the regiment came to the Chobham bridge and was busy
    questioning the crowd at midnight. The military authorities were
    certainly alive to the seriousness of the business. About eleven, the
    next morning’s papers were able to say, a squadron of hussars, two
    Maxims, and about four hundred men of the Cardigan regiment started
    from Aldershot.

    A few seconds after midnight the crowd in the Chertsey road, Woking,
    saw a star fall from heaven into the pine woods to the northwest. It
    had a greenish colour, and caused a silent brightness like summer
    lightning. This was the second cylinder.

    IX.
    THE FIGHTING BEGINS.

    Saturday lives in my memory as a day of suspense. It was a day of
    lassitude too, hot and close, with, I am told, a rapidly fluctuating
    barometer. I had slept but little, though my wife had succeeded in
    sleeping, and I rose early. I went into my garden before breakfast and
    stood listening, but towards the common there was nothing stirring but
    a lark.

    The milkman came as usual. I heard the rattle of his chariot and I went
    round to the side gate to ask the latest news. He told me that during
    the night the Martians had been surrounded by troops, and that guns
    were expected. Then—a familiar, reassuring note—I heard a train running
    towards Woking.

    “They aren’t to be killed,” said the milkman, “if that can possibly be
    avoided.”

    I saw my neighbour gardening, chatted with him for a time, and then
    strolled in to breakfast. It was a most unexceptional morning. My
    neighbour was of opinion that the troops would be able to capture or to
    destroy the Martians during the day.

    “It’s a pity they make themselves so unapproachable,” he said. “It
    would be curious to know how they live on another planet; we might
    learn a thing or two.”

    He came up to the fence and extended a handful of strawberries, for his
    gardening was as generous as it was enthusiastic. At the same time he
    told me of the burning of the pine woods about the Byfleet Golf Links.

    “They say,” said he, “that there’s another of those blessed things
    fallen there—number two. But one’s enough, surely. This lot’ll cost the
    insurance people a pretty penny before everything’s settled.” He
    laughed with an air of the greatest good humour as he said this. The
    woods, he said, were still burning, and pointed out a haze of smoke to
    me. “They will be hot under foot for days, on account of the thick soil
    of pine needles and turf,” he said, and then grew serious over “poor
    Ogilvy.”

    After breakfast, instead of working, I decided to walk down towards the
    common. Under the railway bridge I found a group of soldiers—sappers, I
    think, men in small round caps, dirty red jackets unbuttoned, and
    showing their blue shirts, dark trousers, and boots coming to the calf.
    They told me no one was allowed over the canal, and, looking along the
    road towards the bridge, I saw one of the Cardigan men standing
    sentinel there. I talked with these soldiers for a time; I told them of
    my sight of the Martians on the previous evening. None of them had seen
    the Martians, and they had but the vaguest ideas of them, so that they
    plied me with questions. They said that they did not know who had
    authorised the movements of the troops; their idea was that a dispute
    had arisen at the Horse Guards. The ordinary sapper is a great deal
    better educated than the common soldier, and they discussed the
    peculiar conditions of the possible fight with some acuteness. I
    described the Heat-Ray to them, and they began to argue among
    themselves.

    “Crawl up under cover and rush ’em, say I,” said one.

    “Get aht!” said another. “What’s cover against this ’ere ’eat? Sticks
    to cook yer! What we got to do is to go as near as the ground’ll let
    us, and then drive a trench.”

    “Blow yer trenches! You always want trenches; you ought to ha’ been
    born a rabbit, Snippy.”

    “Ain’t they got any necks, then?” said a third, abruptly—a little,
    contemplative, dark man, smoking a pipe.

    I repeated my description.

    “Octopuses,” said he, “that’s what I calls ’em. Talk about fishers of
    men—fighters of fish it is this time!”

    “It ain’t no murder killing beasts like that,” said the first speaker.

    “Why not shell the darned things strite off and finish ’em?” said the
    little dark man. “You carn tell what they might do.”

    “Where’s your shells?” said the first speaker. “There ain’t no time. Do
    it in a rush, that’s my tip, and do it at once.”

    So they discussed it. After a while I left them, and went on to the
    railway station to get as many morning papers as I could.

    But I will not weary the reader with a description of that long morning
    and of the longer afternoon. I did not succeed in getting a glimpse of
    the common, for even Horsell and Chobham church towers were in the
    hands of the military authorities. The soldiers I addressed didn’t know
    anything; the officers were mysterious as well as busy. I found people
    in the town quite secure again in the presence of the military, and I
    heard for the first time from Marshall, the tobacconist, that his son
    was among the dead on the common. The soldiers had made the people on
    the outskirts of Horsell lock up and leave their houses.

    I got back to lunch about two, very tired for, as I have said, the day
    was extremely hot and dull; and in order to refresh myself I took a
    cold bath in the afternoon. About half past four I went up to the
    railway station to get an evening paper, for the morning papers had
    contained only a very inaccurate description of the killing of Stent,
    Henderson, Ogilvy, and the others. But there was little I didn’t know.
    The Martians did not show an inch of themselves. They seemed busy in
    their pit, and there was a sound of hammering and an almost continuous
    streamer of smoke. Apparently they were busy getting ready for a
    struggle. “Fresh attempts have been made to signal, but without
    success,” was the stereotyped formula of the papers. A sapper told me
    it was done by a man in a ditch with a flag on a long pole. The
    Martians took as much notice of such advances as we should of the
    lowing of a cow.

    I must confess the sight of all this armament, all this preparation,
    greatly excited me. My imagination became belligerent, and defeated the
    invaders in a dozen striking ways; something of my schoolboy dreams of
    battle and heroism came back. It hardly seemed a fair fight to me at
    that time. They seemed very helpless in that pit of theirs.

    About three o’clock there began the thud of a gun at measured intervals
    from Chertsey or Addlestone. I learned that the smouldering pine wood
    into which the second cylinder had fallen was being shelled, in the
    hope of destroying that object before it opened. It was only about
    five, however, that a field gun reached Chobham for use against the
    first body of Martians.

    About six in the evening, as I sat at tea with my wife in the
    summerhouse talking vigorously about the battle that was lowering upon
    us, I heard a muffled detonation from the common, and immediately after
    a gust of firing. Close on the heels of that came a violent rattling
    crash, quite close to us, that shook the ground; and, starting out upon
    the lawn, I saw the tops of the trees about the Oriental College burst
    into smoky red flame, and the tower of the little church beside it
    slide down into ruin. The pinnacle of the mosque had vanished, and the
    roof line of the college itself looked as if a hundred-ton gun had been
    at work upon it. One of our chimneys cracked as if a shot had hit it,
    flew, and a piece of it came clattering down the tiles and made a heap
    of broken red fragments upon the flower bed by my study window.

    I and my wife stood amazed. Then I realised that the crest of Maybury
    Hill must be within range of the Martians’ Heat-Ray now that the
    college was cleared out of the way.

    At that I gripped my wife’s arm, and without ceremony ran her out into
    the road. Then I fetched out the servant, telling her I would go
    upstairs myself for the box she was clamouring for.

    “We can’t possibly stay here,” I said; and as I spoke the firing
    reopened for a moment upon the common.

    “But where are we to go?” said my wife in terror.

    I thought perplexed. Then I remembered her cousins at Leatherhead.

    “Leatherhead!” I shouted above the sudden noise.

    She looked away from me downhill. The people were coming out of their
    houses, astonished.

    “How are we to get to Leatherhead?” she said.

    Down the hill I saw a bevy of hussars ride under the railway bridge;
    three galloped through the open gates of the Oriental College; two
    others dismounted, and began running from house to house. The sun,
    shining through the smoke that drove up from the tops of the trees,
    seemed blood red, and threw an unfamiliar lurid light upon everything.

    “Stop here,” said I; “you are safe here;” and I started off at once for
    the Spotted Dog, for I knew the landlord had a horse and dog cart. I
    ran, for I perceived that in a moment everyone upon this side of the
    hill would be moving. I found him in his bar, quite unaware of what was
    going on behind his house. A man stood with his back to me, talking to
    him.

    “I must have a pound,” said the landlord, “and I’ve no one to drive
    it.”

    “I’ll give you two,” said I, over the stranger’s shoulder.

    “What for?”

    “And I’ll bring it back by midnight,” I said.

    “Lord!” said the landlord; “what’s the hurry? I’m selling my bit of a
    pig. Two pounds, and you bring it back? What’s going on now?”

    I explained hastily that I had to leave my home, and so secured the dog
    cart. At the time it did not seem to me nearly so urgent that the
    landlord should leave his. I took care to have the cart there and then,
    drove it off down the road, and, leaving it in charge of my wife and
    servant, rushed into my house and packed a few valuables, such plate as
    we had, and so forth. The beech trees below the house were burning
    while I did this, and the palings up the road glowed red. While I was
    occupied in this way, one of the dismounted hussars came running up. He
    was going from house to house, warning people to leave. He was going on
    as I came out of my front door, lugging my treasures, done up in a
    tablecloth. I shouted after him:

    “What news?”

    He turned, stared, bawled something about “crawling out in a thing like
    a dish cover,” and ran on to the gate of the house at the crest. A
    sudden whirl of black smoke driving across the road hid him for a
    moment. I ran to my neighbour’s door and rapped to satisfy myself of
    what I already knew, that his wife had gone to London with him and had
    locked up their house. I went in again, according to my promise, to get
    my servant’s box, lugged it out, clapped it beside her on the tail of
    the dog cart, and then caught the reins and jumped up into the driver’s
    seat beside my wife. In another moment we were clear of the smoke and
    noise, and spanking down the opposite slope of Maybury Hill towards Old
    Woking.

    In front was a quiet sunny landscape, a wheat field ahead on either
    side of the road, and the Maybury Inn with its swinging sign. I saw the
    doctor’s cart ahead of me. At the bottom of the hill I turned my head
    to look at the hillside I was leaving. Thick streamers of black smoke
    shot with threads of red fire were driving up into the still air, and
    throwing dark shadows upon the green treetops eastward. The smoke
    already extended far away to the east and west—to the Byfleet pine
    woods eastward, and to Woking on the west. The road was dotted with
    people running towards us. And very faint now, but very distinct
    through the hot, quiet air, one heard the whirr of a machine-gun that
    was presently stilled, and an intermittent cracking of rifles.
    Apparently the Martians were setting fire to everything within range of
    their Heat-Ray.

    I am not an expert driver, and I had immediately to turn my attention
    to the horse. When I looked back again the second hill had hidden the
    black smoke. I slashed the horse with the whip, and gave him a loose
    rein until Woking and Send lay between us and that quivering tumult. I
    overtook and passed the doctor between Woking and Send.

    X.
    IN THE STORM.

    Leatherhead is about twelve miles from Maybury Hill. The scent of hay
    was in the air through the lush meadows beyond Pyrford, and the hedges
    on either side were sweet and gay with multitudes of dog-roses. The
    heavy firing that had broken out while we were driving down Maybury
    Hill ceased as abruptly as it began, leaving the evening very peaceful
    and still. We got to Leatherhead without misadventure about nine
    o’clock, and the horse had an hour’s rest while I took supper with my
    cousins and commended my wife to their care.

    My wife was curiously silent throughout the drive, and seemed oppressed
    with forebodings of evil. I talked to her reassuringly, pointing out
    that the Martians were tied to the pit by sheer heaviness, and at the
    utmost could but crawl a little out of it; but she answered only in
    monosyllables. Had it not been for my promise to the innkeeper, she
    would, I think, have urged me to stay in Leatherhead that night. Would
    that I had! Her face, I remember, was very white as we parted.

    For my own part, I had been feverishly excited all day. Something very
    like the war fever that occasionally runs through a civilised community
    had got into my blood, and in my heart I was not so very sorry that I
    had to return to Maybury that night. I was even afraid that that last
    fusillade I had heard might mean the extermination of our invaders from
    Mars. I can best express my state of mind by saying that I wanted to be
    in at the death.

    It was nearly eleven when I started to return. The night was
    unexpectedly dark; to me, walking out of the lighted passage of my
    cousins’ house, it seemed indeed black, and it was as hot and close as
    the day. Overhead the clouds were driving fast, albeit not a breath
    stirred the shrubs about us. My cousins’ man lit both lamps. Happily, I
    knew the road intimately. My wife stood in the light of the doorway,
    and watched me until I jumped up into the dog cart. Then abruptly she
    turned and went in, leaving my cousins side by side wishing me good
    hap.

    I was a little depressed at first with the contagion of my wife’s
    fears, but very soon my thoughts reverted to the Martians. At that time
    I was absolutely in the dark as to the course of the evening’s
    fighting. I did not know even the circumstances that had precipitated
    the conflict. As I came through Ockham (for that was the way I
    returned, and not through Send and Old Woking) I saw along the western
    horizon a blood-red glow, which as I drew nearer, crept slowly up the
    sky. The driving clouds of the gathering thunderstorm mingled there
    with masses of black and red smoke.

    Ripley Street was deserted, and except for a lighted window or so the
    village showed not a sign of life; but I narrowly escaped an accident
    at the corner of the road to Pyrford, where a knot of people stood with
    their backs to me. They said nothing to me as I passed. I do not know
    what they knew of the things happening beyond the hill, nor do I know
    if the silent houses I passed on my way were sleeping securely, or
    deserted and empty, or harassed and watching against the terror of the
    night.

    From Ripley until I came through Pyrford I was in the valley of the
    Wey, and the red glare was hidden from me. As I ascended the little
    hill beyond Pyrford Church the glare came into view again, and the
    trees about me shivered with the first intimation of the storm that was
    upon me. Then I heard midnight pealing out from Pyrford Church behind
    me, and then came the silhouette of Maybury Hill, with its tree-tops
    and roofs black and sharp against the red.

    Even as I beheld this a lurid green glare lit the road about me and
    showed the distant woods towards Addlestone. I felt a tug at the reins.
    I saw that the driving clouds had been pierced as it were by a thread
    of green fire, suddenly lighting their confusion and falling into the
    field to my left. It was the third falling star!

    Close on its apparition, and blindingly violet by contrast, danced out
    the first lightning of the gathering storm, and the thunder burst like
    a rocket overhead. The horse took the bit between his teeth and bolted.

    A moderate incline runs towards the foot of Maybury Hill, and down this
    we clattered. Once the lightning had begun, it went on in as rapid a
    succession of flashes as I have ever seen. The thunderclaps, treading
    one on the heels of another and with a strange crackling accompaniment,
    sounded more like the working of a gigantic electric machine than the
    usual detonating reverberations. The flickering light was blinding and
    confusing, and a thin hail smote gustily at my face as I drove down the
    slope.

    At first I regarded little but the road before me, and then abruptly my
    attention was arrested by something that was moving rapidly down the
    opposite slope of Maybury Hill. At first I took it for the wet roof of
    a house, but one flash following another showed it to be in swift
    rolling movement. It was an elusive vision—a moment of bewildering
    darkness, and then, in a flash like daylight, the red masses of the
    Orphanage near the crest of the hill, the green tops of the pine trees,
    and this problematical object came out clear and sharp and bright.

    And this Thing I saw! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher
    than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them
    aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding now
    across the heather; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the
    clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder.
    A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in
    the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the
    next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking stool
    tilted and bowled violently along the ground? That was the impression
    those instant flashes gave. But instead of a milking stool imagine it a
    great body of machinery on a tripod stand.

    Then suddenly the trees in the pine wood ahead of me were parted, as
    brittle reeds are parted by a man thrusting through them; they were
    snapped off and driven headlong, and a second huge tripod appeared,
    rushing, as it seemed, headlong towards me. And I was galloping hard to
    meet it! At the sight of the second monster my nerve went altogether.
    Not stopping to look again, I wrenched the horse’s head hard round to
    the right and in another moment the dog cart had heeled over upon the
    horse; the shafts smashed noisily, and I was flung sideways and fell
    heavily into a shallow pool of water.

    I crawled out almost immediately, and crouched, my feet still in the
    water, under a clump of furze. The horse lay motionless (his neck was
    broken, poor brute!) and by the lightning flashes I saw the black bulk
    of the overturned dog cart and the silhouette of the wheel still
    spinning slowly. In another moment the colossal mechanism went striding
    by me, and passed uphill towards Pyrford.

    Seen nearer, the Thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere
    insensate machine driving on its way. Machine it was, with a ringing
    metallic pace, and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which
    gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange
    body. It picked its road as it went striding along, and the brazen hood
    that surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a
    head looking about. Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal
    like a gigantic fisherman’s basket, and puffs of green smoke squirted
    out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me. And in an
    instant it was gone.

    So much I saw then, all vaguely for the flickering of the lightning, in
    blinding highlights and dense black shadows.

    As it passed it set up an exultant deafening howl that drowned the
    thunder—“Aloo! Aloo!”—and in another minute it was with its companion,
    half a mile away, stooping over something in the field. I have no doubt
    this Thing in the field was the third of the ten cylinders they had
    fired at us from Mars.

    For some minutes I lay there in the rain and darkness watching, by the
    intermittent light, these monstrous beings of metal moving about in the
    distance over the hedge tops. A thin hail was now beginning, and as it
    came and went their figures grew misty and then flashed into clearness
    again. Now and then came a gap in the lightning, and the night
    swallowed them up.

    I was soaked with hail above and puddle water below. It was some time
    before my blank astonishment would let me struggle up the bank to a
    drier position, or think at all of my imminent peril.

    Not far from me was a little one-roomed squatter’s hut of wood,
    surrounded by a patch of potato garden. I struggled to my feet at last,
    and, crouching and making use of every chance of cover, I made a run
    for this. I hammered at the door, but I could not make the people hear
    (if there were any people inside), and after a time I desisted, and,
    availing myself of a ditch for the greater part of the way, succeeded
    in crawling, unobserved by these monstrous machines, into the pine
    woods towards Maybury.

    Under cover of this I pushed on, wet and shivering now, towards my own
    house. I walked among the trees trying to find the footpath. It was
    very dark indeed in the wood, for the lightning was now becoming
    infrequent, and the hail, which was pouring down in a torrent, fell in
    columns through the gaps in the heavy foliage.

    If I had fully realised the meaning of all the things I had seen I
    should have immediately worked my way round through Byfleet to Street
    Cobham, and so gone back to rejoin my wife at Leatherhead. But that
    night the strangeness of things about me, and my physical wretchedness,
    prevented me, for I was bruised, weary, wet to the skin, deafened and
    blinded by the storm.

    I had a vague idea of going on to my own house, and that was as much
    motive as I had. I staggered through the trees, fell into a ditch and
    bruised my knees against a plank, and finally splashed out into the
    lane that ran down from the College Arms. I say splashed, for the storm
    water was sweeping the sand down the hill in a muddy torrent. There in
    the darkness a man blundered into me and sent me reeling back.

    He gave a cry of terror, sprang sideways, and rushed on before I could
    gather my wits sufficiently to speak to him. So heavy was the stress of
    the storm just at this place that I had the hardest task to win my way
    up the hill. I went close up to the fence on the left and worked my way
    along its palings.

    Near the top I stumbled upon something soft, and, by a flash of
    lightning, saw between my feet a heap of black broadcloth and a pair of
    boots. Before I could distinguish clearly how the man lay, the flicker
    of light had passed. I stood over him waiting for the next flash. When
    it came, I saw that he was a sturdy man, cheaply but not shabbily
    dressed; his head was bent under his body, and he lay crumpled up close
    to the fence, as though he had been flung violently against it.

    Overcoming the repugnance natural to one who had never before touched a
    dead body, I stooped and turned him over to feel for his heart. He was
    quite dead. Apparently his neck had been broken. The lightning flashed
    for a third time, and his face leaped upon me. I sprang to my feet. It
    was the landlord of the Spotted Dog, whose conveyance I had taken.

    I stepped over him gingerly and pushed on up the hill. I made my way by
    the police station and the College Arms towards my own house. Nothing
    was burning on the hillside, though from the common there still came a
    red glare and a rolling tumult of ruddy smoke beating up against the
    drenching hail. So far as I could see by the flashes, the houses about
    me were mostly uninjured. By the College Arms a dark heap lay in the
    road.

    Down the road towards Maybury Bridge there were voices and the sound of
    feet, but I had not the courage to shout or to go to them. I let myself
    in with my latchkey, closed, locked and bolted the door, staggered to
    the foot of the staircase, and sat down. My imagination was full of
    those striding metallic monsters, and of the dead body smashed against
    the fence.

    I crouched at the foot of the staircase with my back to the wall,
    shivering violently.

    XI.
    AT THE WINDOW.

    I have already said that my storms of emotion have a trick of
    exhausting themselves. After a time I discovered that I was cold and
    wet, and with little pools of water about me on the stair carpet. I got
    up almost mechanically, went into the dining room and drank some
    whisky, and then I was moved to change my clothes.

    After I had done that I went upstairs to my study, but why I did so I
    do not know. The window of my study looks over the trees and the
    railway towards Horsell Common. In the hurry of our departure this
    window had been left open. The passage was dark, and, by contrast with
    the picture the window frame enclosed, the side of the room seemed
    impenetrably dark. I stopped short in the doorway.

    The thunderstorm had passed. The towers of the Oriental College and the
    pine trees about it had gone, and very far away, lit by a vivid red
    glare, the common about the sand-pits was visible. Across the light
    huge black shapes, grotesque and strange, moved busily to and fro.

    It seemed indeed as if the whole country in that direction was on
    fire—a broad hillside set with minute tongues of flame, swaying and
    writhing with the gusts of the dying storm, and throwing a red
    reflection upon the cloud scud above. Every now and then a haze of
    smoke from some nearer conflagration drove across the window and hid
    the Martian shapes. I could not see what they were doing, nor the clear
    form of them, nor recognise the black objects they were busied upon.
    Neither could I see the nearer fire, though the reflections of it
    danced on the wall and ceiling of the study. A sharp, resinous tang of
    burning was in the air.

    I closed the door noiselessly and crept towards the window. As I did
    so, the view opened out until, on the one hand, it reached to the
    houses about Woking station, and on the other to the charred and
    blackened pine woods of Byfleet. There was a light down below the hill,
    on the railway, near the arch, and several of the houses along the
    Maybury road and the streets near the station were glowing ruins. The
    light upon the railway puzzled me at first; there were a black heap and
    a vivid glare, and to the right of that a row of yellow oblongs. Then I
    perceived this was a wrecked train, the fore part smashed and on fire,
    the hinder carriages still upon the rails.

    Between these three main centres of light—the houses, the train, and
    the burning county towards Chobham—stretched irregular patches of dark
    country, broken here and there by intervals of dimly glowing and
    smoking ground. It was the strangest spectacle, that black expanse set
    with fire. It reminded me, more than anything else, of the Potteries at
    night. At first I could distinguish no people at all, though I peered
    intently for them. Later I saw against the light of Woking station a
    number of black figures hurrying one after the other across the line.

    And this was the little world in which I had been living securely for
    years, this fiery chaos! What had happened in the last seven hours I
    still did not know; nor did I know, though I was beginning to guess,
    the relation between these mechanical colossi and the sluggish lumps I
    had seen disgorged from the cylinder. With a queer feeling of
    impersonal interest I turned my desk chair to the window, sat down, and
    stared at the blackened country, and particularly at the three gigantic
    black things that were going to and fro in the glare about the
    sand-pits.

    They seemed amazingly busy. I began to ask myself what they could be.
    Were they intelligent mechanisms? Such a thing I felt was impossible.
    Or did a Martian sit within each, ruling, directing, using, much as a
    man’s brain sits and rules in his body? I began to compare the things
    to human machines, to ask myself for the first time in my life how an
    ironclad or a steam engine would seem to an intelligent lower animal.

    The storm had left the sky clear, and over the smoke of the burning
    land the little fading pinpoint of Mars was dropping into the west,
    when a soldier came into my garden. I heard a slight scraping at the
    fence, and rousing myself from the lethargy that had fallen upon me, I
    looked down and saw him dimly, clambering over the palings. At the
    sight of another human being my torpor passed, and I leaned out of the
    window eagerly.

    “Hist!” said I, in a whisper.

    He stopped astride of the fence in doubt. Then he came over and across
    the lawn to the corner of the house. He bent down and stepped softly.

    “Who’s there?” he said, also whispering, standing under the window and
    peering up.

    “Where are you going?” I asked.

    “God knows.”

    “Are you trying to hide?”

    “That’s it.”

    “Come into the house,” I said.

    I went down, unfastened the door, and let him in, and locked the door
    again. I could not see his face. He was hatless, and his coat was
    unbuttoned.

    “My God!” he said, as I drew him in.

    “What has happened?” I asked.

    “What hasn’t?” In the obscurity I could see he made a gesture of
    despair. “They wiped us out—simply wiped us out,” he repeated again and
    again.

    He followed me, almost mechanically, into the dining room.

    “Take some whisky,” I said, pouring out a stiff dose.

    He drank it. Then abruptly he sat down before the table, put his head
    on his arms, and began to sob and weep like a little boy, in a perfect
    passion of emotion, while I, with a curious forgetfulness of my own
    recent despair, stood beside him, wondering.

    It was a long time before he could steady his nerves to answer my
    questions, and then he answered perplexingly and brokenly. He was a
    driver in the artillery, and had only come into action about seven. At
    that time firing was going on across the common, and it was said the
    first party of Martians were crawling slowly towards their second
    cylinder under cover of a metal shield.

    Later this shield staggered up on tripod legs and became the first of
    the fighting-machines I had seen. The gun he drove had been unlimbered
    near Horsell, in order to command the sand-pits, and its arrival it was
    that had precipitated the action. As the limber gunners went to the
    rear, his horse trod in a rabbit hole and came down, throwing him into
    a depression of the ground. At the same moment the gun exploded behind
    him, the ammunition blew up, there was fire all about him, and he found
    himself lying under a heap of charred dead men and dead horses.

    “I lay still,” he said, “scared out of my wits, with the fore quarter
    of a horse atop of me. We’d been wiped out. And the smell—good God!
    Like burnt meat! I was hurt across the back by the fall of the horse,
    and there I had to lie until I felt better. Just like parade it had
    been a minute before—then stumble, bang, swish!

    “Wiped out!” he said.

    He had hid under the dead horse for a long time, peeping out furtively
    across the common. The Cardigan men had tried a rush, in skirmishing
    order, at the pit, simply to be swept out of existence. Then the
    monster had risen to its feet and had begun to walk leisurely to and
    fro across the common among the few fugitives, with its headlike hood
    turning about exactly like the head of a cowled human being. A kind of
    arm carried a complicated metallic case, about which green flashes
    scintillated, and out of the funnel of this there smoked the Heat-Ray.

    In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier could see, not a
    living thing left upon the common, and every bush and tree upon it that
    was not already a blackened skeleton was burning. The hussars had been
    on the road beyond the curvature of the ground, and he saw nothing of
    them. He heard the Maxims rattle for a time and then become still. The
    giant saved Woking station and its cluster of houses until the last;
    then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town became
    a heap of fiery ruins. Then the Thing shut off the Heat-Ray, and
    turning its back upon the artilleryman, began to waddle away towards
    the smouldering pine woods that sheltered the second cylinder. As it
    did so a second glittering Titan built itself up out of the pit.

    The second monster followed the first, and at that the artilleryman
    began to crawl very cautiously across the hot heather ash towards
    Horsell. He managed to get alive into the ditch by the side of the
    road, and so escaped to Woking. There his story became ejaculatory. The
    place was impassable. It seems there were a few people alive there,
    frantic for the most part and many burned and scalded. He was turned
    aside by the fire, and hid among some almost scorching heaps of broken
    wall as one of the Martian giants returned. He saw this one pursue a
    man, catch him up in one of its steely tentacles, and knock his head
    against the trunk of a pine tree. At last, after nightfall, the
    artilleryman made a rush for it and got over the railway embankment.

    Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury, in the hope of
    getting out of danger Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and
    cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village
    and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the
    water mains near the railway arch smashed, and the water bubbling out
    like a spring upon the road.

    That was the story I got from him, bit by bit. He grew calmer telling
    me and trying to make me see the things he had seen. He had eaten no
    food since midday, he told me early in his narrative, and I found some
    mutton and bread in the pantry and brought it into the room. We lit no
    lamp for fear of attracting the Martians, and ever and again our hands
    would touch upon bread or meat. As he talked, things about us came
    darkly out of the darkness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose
    trees outside the window grew distinct. It would seem that a number of
    men or animals had rushed across the lawn. I began to see his face,
    blackened and haggard, as no doubt mine was also.

    When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my study, and I
    looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become
    a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled now. Where flames had been
    there were now streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of shattered
    and gutted houses and blasted and blackened trees that the night had
    hidden stood out now gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn.
    Yet here and there some object had had the luck to escape—a white
    railway signal here, the end of a greenhouse there, white and fresh
    amid the wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare had
    destruction been so indiscriminate and so universal. And shining with
    the growing light of the east, three of the metallic giants stood about
    the pit, their cowls rotating as though they were surveying the
    desolation they had made.

    It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again
    puffs of vivid green vapour streamed up and out of it towards the
    brightening dawn—streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.

    Beyond were the pillars of fire about Chobham. They became pillars of
    bloodshot smoke at the first touch of day.

    XII.
    WHAT I SAW OF THE DESTRUCTION OF WEYBRIDGE AND SHEPPERTON.

    As the dawn grew brighter we withdrew from the window from which we had
    watched the Martians, and went very quietly downstairs.

    The artilleryman agreed with me that the house was no place to stay in.
    He proposed, he said, to make his way Londonward, and thence rejoin his
    battery—No. 12, of the Horse Artillery. My plan was to return at once
    to Leatherhead; and so greatly had the strength of the Martians
    impressed me that I had determined to take my wife to Newhaven, and go
    with her out of the country forthwith. For I already perceived clearly
    that the country about London must inevitably be the scene of a
    disastrous struggle before such creatures as these could be destroyed.

    Between us and Leatherhead, however, lay the third cylinder, with its
    guarding giants. Had I been alone, I think I should have taken my
    chance and struck across country. But the artilleryman dissuaded me:
    “It’s no kindness to the right sort of wife,” he said, “to make her a
    widow;” and in the end I agreed to go with him, under cover of the
    woods, northward as far as Street Cobham before I parted with him.
    Thence I would make a big detour by Epsom to reach Leatherhead.

    I should have started at once, but my companion had been in active
    service and he knew better than that. He made me ransack the house for
    a flask, which he filled with whisky; and we lined every available
    pocket with packets of biscuits and slices of meat. Then we crept out
    of the house, and ran as quickly as we could down the ill-made road by
    which I had come overnight. The houses seemed deserted. In the road lay
    a group of three charred bodies close together, struck dead by the
    Heat-Ray; and here and there were things that people had dropped—a
    clock, a slipper, a silver spoon, and the like poor valuables. At the
    corner turning up towards the post office a little cart, filled with
    boxes and furniture, and horseless, heeled over on a broken wheel. A
    cash box had been hastily smashed open and thrown under the debris.

    Except the lodge at the Orphanage, which was still on fire, none of the
    houses had suffered very greatly here. The Heat-Ray had shaved the
    chimney tops and passed. Yet, save ourselves, there did not seem to be
    a living soul on Maybury Hill. The majority of the inhabitants had
    escaped, I suppose, by way of the Old Woking road—the road I had taken
    when I drove to Leatherhead—or they had hidden.

    We went down the lane, by the body of the man in black, sodden now from
    the overnight hail, and broke into the woods at the foot of the hill.
    We pushed through these towards the railway without meeting a soul. The
    woods across the line were but the scarred and blackened ruins of
    woods; for the most part the trees had fallen, but a certain proportion
    still stood, dismal grey stems, with dark brown foliage instead of
    green.

    On our side the fire had done no more than scorch the nearer trees; it
    had failed to secure its footing. In one place the woodmen had been at
    work on Saturday; trees, felled and freshly trimmed, lay in a clearing,
    with heaps of sawdust by the sawing-machine and its engine. Hard by was
    a temporary hut, deserted. There was not a breath of wind this morning,
    and everything was strangely still. Even the birds were hushed, and as
    we hurried along I and the artilleryman talked in whispers and looked
    now and again over our shoulders. Once or twice we stopped to listen.

    After a time we drew near the road, and as we did so we heard the
    clatter of hoofs and saw through the tree stems three cavalry soldiers
    riding slowly towards Woking. We hailed them, and they halted while we
    hurried towards them. It was a lieutenant and a couple of privates of
    the 8th Hussars, with a stand like a theodolite, which the artilleryman
    told me was a heliograph.

    “You are the first men I’ve seen coming this way this morning,” said
    the lieutenant. “What’s brewing?”

    His voice and face were eager. The men behind him stared curiously. The
    artilleryman jumped down the bank into the road and saluted.

    “Gun destroyed last night, sir. Have been hiding. Trying to rejoin
    battery, sir. You’ll come in sight of the Martians, I expect, about
    half a mile along this road.”

    “What the dickens are they like?” asked the lieutenant.

    “Giants in armour, sir. Hundred feet high. Three legs and a body like
    ’luminium, with a mighty great head in a hood, sir.”

    “Get out!” said the lieutenant. “What confounded nonsense!”

    “You’ll see, sir. They carry a kind of box, sir, that shoots fire and
    strikes you dead.”

    “What d’ye mean—a gun?”

    “No, sir,” and the artilleryman began a vivid account of the Heat-Ray.
    Halfway through, the lieutenant interrupted him and looked up at me. I
    was still standing on the bank by the side of the road.

    “It’s perfectly true,” I said.

    “Well,” said the lieutenant, “I suppose it’s my business to see it too.
    Look here”—to the artilleryman—“we’re detailed here clearing people out
    of their houses. You’d better go along and report yourself to
    Brigadier-General Marvin, and tell him all you know. He’s at Weybridge.
    Know the way?”

    “I do,” I said; and he turned his horse southward again.

    “Half a mile, you say?” said he.

    “At most,” I answered, and pointed over the treetops southward. He
    thanked me and rode on, and we saw them no more.

    Farther along we came upon a group of three women and two children in
    the road, busy clearing out a labourer’s cottage. They had got hold of
    a little hand truck, and were piling it up with unclean-looking bundles
    and shabby furniture. They were all too assiduously engaged to talk to
    us as we passed.

    By Byfleet station we emerged from the pine trees, and found the
    country calm and peaceful under the morning sunlight. We were far
    beyond the range of the Heat-Ray there, and had it not been for the
    silent desertion of some of the houses, the stirring movement of
    packing in others, and the knot of soldiers standing on the bridge over
    the railway and staring down the line towards Woking, the day would
    have seemed very like any other Sunday.

    Several farm waggons and carts were moving creakily along the road to
    Addlestone, and suddenly through the gate of a field we saw, across a
    stretch of flat meadow, six twelve-pounders standing neatly at equal
    distances pointing towards Woking. The gunners stood by the guns
    waiting, and the ammunition waggons were at a business-like distance.
    The men stood almost as if under inspection.

    “That’s good!” said I. “They will get one fair shot, at any rate.”

    The artilleryman hesitated at the gate.

    “I shall go on,” he said.

    Farther on towards Weybridge, just over the bridge, there were a number
    of men in white fatigue jackets throwing up a long rampart, and more
    guns behind.

    “It’s bows and arrows against the lightning, anyhow,” said the
    artilleryman. “They ’aven’t seen that fire-beam yet.”

    The officers who were not actively engaged stood and stared over the
    treetops southwestward, and the men digging would stop every now and
    again to stare in the same direction.

    Byfleet was in a tumult; people packing, and a score of hussars, some
    of them dismounted, some on horseback, were hunting them about. Three
    or four black government waggons, with crosses in white circles, and an
    old omnibus, among other vehicles, were being loaded in the village
    street. There were scores of people, most of them sufficiently
    sabbatical to have assumed their best clothes. The soldiers were having
    the greatest difficulty in making them realise the gravity of their
    position. We saw one shrivelled old fellow with a huge box and a score
    or more of flower pots containing orchids, angrily expostulating with
    the corporal who would leave them behind. I stopped and gripped his
    arm.

    “Do you know what’s over there?” I said, pointing at the pine tops that
    hid the Martians.

    “Eh?” said he, turning. “I was explainin’ these is vallyble.”

    “Death!” I shouted. “Death is coming! Death!” and leaving him to digest
    that if he could, I hurried on after the artillery-man. At the corner I
    looked back. The soldier had left him, and he was still standing by his
    box, with the pots of orchids on the lid of it, and staring vaguely
    over the trees.

    No one in Weybridge could tell us where the headquarters were
    established; the whole place was in such confusion as I had never seen
    in any town before. Carts, carriages everywhere, the most astonishing
    miscellany of conveyances and horseflesh. The respectable inhabitants
    of the place, men in golf and boating costumes, wives prettily dressed,
    were packing, river-side loafers energetically helping, children
    excited, and, for the most part, highly delighted at this astonishing
    variation of their Sunday experiences. In the midst of it all the
    worthy vicar was very pluckily holding an early celebration, and his
    bell was jangling out above the excitement.

    I and the artilleryman, seated on the step of the drinking fountain,
    made a very passable meal upon what we had brought with us. Patrols of
    soldiers—here no longer hussars, but grenadiers in white—were warning
    people to move now or to take refuge in their cellars as soon as the
    firing began. We saw as we crossed the railway bridge that a growing
    crowd of people had assembled in and about the railway station, and the
    swarming platform was piled with boxes and packages. The ordinary
    traffic had been stopped, I believe, in order to allow of the passage
    of troops and guns to Chertsey, and I have heard since that a savage
    struggle occurred for places in the special trains that were put on at
    a later hour.

    We remained at Weybridge until midday, and at that hour we found
    ourselves at the place near Shepperton Lock where the Wey and Thames
    join. Part of the time we spent helping two old women to pack a little
    cart. The Wey has a treble mouth, and at this point boats are to be
    hired, and there was a ferry across the river. On the Shepperton side
    was an inn with a lawn, and beyond that the tower of Shepperton
    Church—it has been replaced by a spire—rose above the trees.

    Here we found an excited and noisy crowd of fugitives. As yet the
    flight had not grown to a panic, but there were already far more people
    than all the boats going to and fro could enable to cross. People came
    panting along under heavy burdens; one husband and wife were even
    carrying a small outhouse door between them, with some of their
    household goods piled thereon. One man told us he meant to try to get
    away from Shepperton station.

    There was a lot of shouting, and one man was even jesting. The idea
    people seemed to have here was that the Martians were simply formidable
    human beings, who might attack and sack the town, to be certainly
    destroyed in the end. Every now and then people would glance nervously
    across the Wey, at the meadows towards Chertsey, but everything over
    there was still.

    Across the Thames, except just where the boats landed, everything was
    quiet, in vivid contrast with the Surrey side. The people who landed
    there from the boats went tramping off down the lane. The big ferryboat
    had just made a journey. Three or four soldiers stood on the lawn of
    the inn, staring and jesting at the fugitives, without offering to
    help. The inn was closed, as it was now within prohibited hours.

    “What’s that?” cried a boatman, and “Shut up, you fool!” said a man
    near me to a yelping dog. Then the sound came again, this time from the
    direction of Chertsey, a muffled thud—the sound of a gun.

    The fighting was beginning. Almost immediately unseen batteries across
    the river to our right, unseen because of the trees, took up the
    chorus, firing heavily one after the other. A woman screamed. Everyone
    stood arrested by the sudden stir of battle, near us and yet invisible
    to us. Nothing was to be seen save flat meadows, cows feeding
    unconcernedly for the most part, and silvery pollard willows motionless
    in the warm sunlight.

    “The sojers’ll stop ’em,” said a woman beside me, doubtfully. A
    haziness rose over the treetops.

    Then suddenly we saw a rush of smoke far away up the river, a puff of
    smoke that jerked up into the air and hung; and forthwith the ground
    heaved under foot and a heavy explosion shook the air, smashing two or
    three windows in the houses near, and leaving us astonished.

    “Here they are!” shouted a man in a blue jersey. “Yonder! D’yer see
    them? Yonder!”

    Quickly, one after the other, one, two, three, four of the armoured
    Martians appeared, far away over the little trees, across the flat
    meadows that stretched towards Chertsey, and striding hurriedly towards
    the river. Little cowled figures they seemed at first, going with a
    rolling motion and as fast as flying birds.

    Then, advancing obliquely towards us, came a fifth. Their armoured
    bodies glittered in the sun as they swept swiftly forward upon the
    guns, growing rapidly larger as they drew nearer. One on the extreme
    left, the remotest that is, flourished a huge case high in the air, and
    the ghostly, terrible Heat-Ray I had already seen on Friday night smote
    towards Chertsey, and struck the town.

    At sight of these strange, swift, and terrible creatures the crowd near
    the water’s edge seemed to me to be for a moment horror-struck. There
    was no screaming or shouting, but a silence. Then a hoarse murmur and a
    movement of feet—a splashing from the water. A man, too frightened to
    drop the portmanteau he carried on his shoulder, swung round and sent
    me staggering with a blow from the corner of his burden. A woman thrust
    at me with her hand and rushed past me. I turned with the rush of the
    people, but I was not too terrified for thought. The terrible Heat-Ray
    was in my mind. To get under water! That was it!

    “Get under water!” I shouted, unheeded.

    I faced about again, and rushed towards the approaching Martian, rushed
    right down the gravelly beach and headlong into the water. Others did
    the same. A boatload of people putting back came leaping out as I
    rushed past. The stones under my feet were muddy and slippery, and the
    river was so low that I ran perhaps twenty feet scarcely waist-deep.
    Then, as the Martian towered overhead scarcely a couple of hundred
    yards away, I flung myself forward under the surface. The splashes of
    the people in the boats leaping into the river sounded like
    thunderclaps in my ears. People were landing hastily on both sides of
    the river. But the Martian machine took no more notice for the moment
    of the people running this way and that than a man would of the
    confusion of ants in a nest against which his foot has kicked. When,
    half suffocated, I raised my head above water, the Martian’s hood
    pointed at the batteries that were still firing across the river, and
    as it advanced it swung loose what must have been the generator of the
    Heat-Ray.

    In another moment it was on the bank, and in a stride wading halfway
    across. The knees of its foremost legs bent at the farther bank, and in
    another moment it had raised itself to its full height again, close to
    the village of Shepperton. Forthwith the six guns which, unknown to
    anyone on the right bank, had been hidden behind the outskirts of that
    village, fired simultaneously. The sudden near concussion, the last
    close upon the first, made my heart jump. The monster was already
    raising the case generating the Heat-Ray as the first shell burst six
    yards above the hood.

    ]]>
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    The Unpopular Review, Volume II Number 3

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    THE UNPOPULAR REVIEW

    VOL. II, NO. 3

    JULY-SEPTEMBER, 1914

    Published Quarterly at 35 West 32d Street, New York, by

    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

    CONTENTS

    Unsocial Investments A.S. Johnson
    A Stubborn Relic of Feudalism The Editor
    An Experiment in Syndicalism Hugh H. Lusk
    Labor: "True Demand" and Immigrant Supply Arthur J. Todd
    The Way to Flatland Fabian Franklin
    The Disfranchisement of Property David McGregor Means
    Railway Junctions Clayton Hamilton
    Minor Uses of the Middling Rich F.J. Mather, Jr.
    Lecturing at Chautauqua Clayton Hamilton
    Academic Leadership Paul Elmer More
    Hypnotism, Telepathy, and Dreams The Editor
    The Muses on the Hearth Mrs F.G. Allinson
    The Land of the Sleepless Watchdog David Starr Jordan
    En Casserole
    Special to our Readers--Philosophy in Fly Time--Setting Bounds
    to Laughter (A.S. Johnson)--A Post-Graduate School for Academic
    Donors (F.J. Mather, Jr.)--A Suggestion Regarding
    Vacations--Advertisement--Simplified Spelling

    UNSOCIAL INVESTMENTS

    The "new social conscience" is essentially a class phenomenon. While it
    pretends to the rôle of inner monitor and guide to conduct for all
    mankind, it interprets good and evil in class terms. It manifests a
    special solicitude for the welfare of one social group, and a mute
    hostility toward another. Labor is its Esau, Capital its Jacob. Let strife
    arise between workingmen and their employers, and you will see the new
    social conscience aligning itself with the former, accepting at face value
    all the claims of labor, reiterating all labor's formulæ. The suggestion
    that judgment should be suspended until the facts at issue are established
    is repudiated as the prompting of a secret sin. For, to paraphrase a
    recent utterance of the _Survey_, one of the foremost organs of the new
    conscience, is it not true that the workers are fighting for their
    livings, while the employers are fighting only for their profits? It would
    appear, then, that there can be no question as to the side to which
    justice inclines. A living is more sacred than a profit.

    It is virtually never true, however, that the workers are fighting for
    their "living." Contrary to Marx's exploded "iron law" they probably had
    that and more before the trouble began. But of course we would not wish to
    restrict them to a living, if they can produce more, and want all who
    can't produce that much to be provided with it--and something more at the
    expense of others.

    It may be urged that the employer's profits also represent the livings of
    a number of human beings; but this passes nowadays for a reactionary view.
    "We stand for man as against the dollar." If you say that the "dollar" is
    metonymy for "the man possessed of a dollar," with rights to defend, and
    reasonable expectations to be realized, you convict yourself of reaction.
    "These gentry" (I quote from the May _Atlantic_) "suppose themselves to be
    discussing the rights of man, when all they are discussing is the rights
    of stockholders." The true view, the progressive view, is obviously that
    the possessors of the dollar, the recipients of profits and dividends, are
    excluded from the communion of humanity. Labor is mankind.

    The present instance is of course not the only instance in human history
    of the substitution of class criteria of judgment for social criteria.
    Such manifestations of class conscience are doubtless justified in the
    large economy of human affairs; an individual must often claim all in
    order to gain anything, and the same may be true of a class. Besides, the
    ultimate arbitration of the claims of the classes is not a matter for the
    rational judgment. What is subject to rational analysis, however, are the
    methods of gaining its ends proposed by the new social conscience. Of
    these methods one of wide acceptance is that of fixing odium upon certain
    property interests, with a view to depriving them immediately of the
    respect still granted to property interests in general, and ultimately of
    the protection of the laws. It is with the rationality of what may be
    called the excommunication and outlawing of special property interests,
    that the present paper is concerned.

    In passing, it is worth noting that the same ethical spirit that insists
    upon fixing the responsibility for social ills upon particular property
    interests--or property owners--insists with equal vehemence upon absolving
    the propertyless evil-doer from personal responsibility for his acts. The
    Los Angeles dynamiters were but victims: the crime in which they were
    implicated was institutional, not personal. Their punishment was rank
    injustice; inexpedient, moreover, as provocative of further crime, instead
    of a means of repression. On the other hand, when it appears that the
    congestion of the slum produces vice and disease, we are not urged by the
    spokesmen of this ethical creed, to blame the chain of institutional
    causes typified by scarcity of land, high prices of building materials,
    the incapacity of a raw immigrant population to pay for better
    habitations, or to appreciate the need for light and air. Rather, we are
    urged to fix responsibility upon the individual owner who receives rent
    from slum tenements. Perhaps we can not imprison him for his misdeeds, but
    we can make him an object of public reproach; expel him from social
    intercourse (if that, so often talked about, is ever done); fasten his
    iniquities upon him if ever he seeks a post of trust or honor; and
    ultimately we can deprive him of his property. Let him and his anti-social
    interests be forever excommunicate, outlawed.

    II

    In the country at large the property interests involved in the production
    and sale of alcoholic beverages are already excommunicated. The unreformed
    "best society" may still tolerate the presence of persons whose fortunes
    are derived from breweries or distilleries; but the great mass of the
    social-minded would deny them fire and water. In how many districts would
    a well organized political machine urge persons thus enriched as
    candidates for Congress, the bench or even the school board? In the
    prohibition territory excommunication of such property interests has been
    followed by outlawry. The saloon in Maine and Kansas exists by the same
    title as did Robin Hood: the inefficiency of the law. On the road to
    excommunication is private property in the wretched shacks that shelter
    the city's poor. Outlawry is not far distant. "These tenements must go."
    Will they go? Ask of the police, who pick over the wreckage upon the
    subsidence of a wave of reform. Many a rookery, officially abolished, will
    be found still tenanted, and yielding not one income, but two, one for the
    owner and another for the police. The property represented by enterprises
    paying low wages, working men for long hours or under unhealthful
    conditions, or employing children, is almost ripe for excommunication.
    Pillars of society and the church have already been seen tottering on
    account of revelations of working conditions in factories from which they
    receive dividends. Property "affected by a public use," that is,
    investments in the instrumentalities of public service, is becoming a
    compromising possession. We are already somewhat suspicious of the
    personal integrity and political honor of those who receive their incomes
    from railways or electric lighting plants; and the odor of gas stocks is
    unmistakable. Even the land, once the retreat of high birth and serene
    dignity, is beginning to exhale a miasma of corruption. "Enriched by
    unearned increment"--who wishes such an epitaph? A convention is to be
    held in a western city in this very year, to announce to the world that
    the delegates and their constituencies--all honest lovers of mankind--will
    refuse in future to recognize any private title to land or other natural
    resources. Holders of such property, by continuing to be such, will place
    themselves beyond the pale of human society, and will forfeit all claim to
    sympathy when the day dawns for the universal confiscation of land.

    III

    The existence of categories of property interests resting under a growing
    weight of social disapprobation, is giving rise to a series of problems in
    private ethics that seem almost to demand a rehabilitation of the art of
    casuistry. A very intelligent and conscientious lady of the writer's
    acquaintance became possessed, by inheritance, of a one-fourth interest in
    a Minneapolis building the ground floor of which is occupied by a saloon.
    Her first endeavor was to persuade her partners to secure a cancellation
    of the liquor dealer's lease. This they refused to do, on the ground that
    the building in question is, by location, eminently suited to its present
    use, but very ill suited to any other; and that, moreover, the lessee
    would immediately reopen his business on the opposite corner. To yield to
    their partner's desire would therefore result in a reduction of their own
    profits, but would advance the public welfare not one whit. Disheartened
    by her partners' obstinacy, my friend is seeking to dispose of her
    interest in the building. As she is willing to incur a heavy sacrifice in
    order to get rid of her complicity in what she considers an unholy
    business, the transfer will doubtless soon be made. Her soul will be
    lightened of the profits from property put to an anti-social use. But the
    property will still continue in such use, and profits from it will still
    accrue to someone with a soul to lose or to save.

    In her fascinating book, _Twenty Years at Hull House_, Miss Jane Addams
    tells of a visit to a western state where she had invested a sum of money
    in farm mortgages. "I was horrified," she says, "by the wretched
    conditions among the farmers, which had resulted from a long period of
    drought, and one forlorn picture was fairly burned into my mind.... The
    farmer's wife [was] a picture of despair, as she stood in the door of the
    bare, crude house, and the two children behind her, whom she vainly tried
    to keep out of sight, continually thrust forward their faces, almost
    covered by masses of coarse, sunburned hair, and their little bare feet so
    black, so hard, the great cracks so filled with dust, that they looked
    like flattened hoofs. The children could not be compared to anything so
    joyous as satyrs, although they appeared but half-human. It seemed to me
    quite impossible to receive interest from mortgages upon farms which might
    at any season be reduced to such conditions, and with great inconvenience
    to my agent and doubtless with hardship to the farmers, as speedily as
    possible I withdrew all my investment." And thereby made the supply of
    money for such farmers that much less and consequently that much dearer.
    This is quite a fair example of much current philanthropy.

    We may safely assume that, however much this action may have lightened
    Miss Addams's conscience, it did not lighten the burden of debt upon the
    farmer, or make the periodic interest payments less painful, and it
    certainly did put them to the trouble and contingent expenses of a new
    mortgage. The moral burden was shifted, to the ease of the philanthropist,
    and this seems to exhaust the sum of the good results of one well
    intentioned deed. Do they outweigh the bad ones?

    So, doubtless, there are among our friends persons who, upon proof that
    factories in which they have been interested pay starvation wages, have
    withdrawn their investments. And others who, stumbling upon a state
    legislature among the productive assets of a railway corporation, have
    sold their bonds and invested the proceeds elsewhere. It is a modern way
    of obeying the injunction, "Sell all thou hast and follow me." And not a
    very painful way, since the irreproachable investments pay almost, if not
    quite, as well as those that are suspect.

    It is not, however, impossible to conceive of a property owner driven from
    one position to another, in order to satisfy this new requirement of the
    social conscience, without ever finding peace. Miss Addams put the money
    withdrawn from those hideous farm mortgages into a flock of "innocent
    looking sheep." Alas, they were not so innocent as they seemed. "The sight
    of two hundred sheep with four rotting hoofs each was not reassuring to
    one whose conscience craved economic peace. A fortunate series of sales of
    mutton, wool and farm enabled the partners to end the enterprise without
    loss." Sales of mutton? Let us hope those eight hundred infected hoofs are
    well printed on the butcher's conscience.

    And the net result of all these moral strivings? The evil investments
    still continue to be evil, and still yield profits. Doubtless they rest,
    in the end, upon less sensitive consciences. Marvellous moral gain!

    IV

    We are bound to the wheel, say the sociological fatalists. All our efforts
    are of no avail; the Wheel revolves as it was destined. Not so. Our
    strivings for purity in investments, puny as may be their results in the
    individual instance, may compose a sum that is imposing in its
    effectiveness. How their influence may be exerted will best appear from an
    analogy.

    It is a settled conviction among Americans of Puritan antecedents, and
    among all other Americans, native born or alien, that have come under
    Puritan influence, that the dispensing of alcoholic beverages is a
    degrading function. This conviction has not, to be sure, notably impaired
    the performance of the function. But it has none the less produced a
    striking effect. It has set apart for the function in question those
    elements in the population that place the lowest valuation upon the esteem
    of the public, and that are, on the whole, least worthy of it. In
    consequence the American saloon is, by common consent, the very worst
    institution of its kind in the world. Such is the immediate result of good
    intentions working by the method of excommunication of a trade.

    This degradation of the personnel and the institution proceeds at an
    accelerated rate as public opinion grows more bitter. In the end the evil
    becomes so serious, so intimately associated with all other evils, social
    and political, that you hear men over their very cups rise to proclaim,
    with husky voices, "The saloon must go!" At this point the community is
    ripe for prohibition: accordingly, it would seem that the initial stages
    in the process, unpleasant as were their consequences, were not
    ill-advised, after all. But prohibition does not come without a political
    struggle, in which the enemy, selected for brazenness and schooled in
    corruption, employs methods that leave lasting scars upon the body
    politic. And even when vanquished, the enemy retreats into the morasses of
    "unenforcible laws," to conduct a guerilla warfare that knows no rules.
    Let us grant that the ultimate gain is worth all it costs: are we sure
    that we have taken the best possible means to achieve our ends?

    In the poorer quarters of most great American cities, there is much
    property that it is difficult for a man to hold without losing the respect
    of the enlightened. Old battered tenements, dingy and ill lighted
    tumbledown shacks, the despair of the city reformer. Let us say that the
    proximity of gas tanks or noisy railways or smoky factories consign such
    quarters to the habitation of the very poor. Quite possibly, then, the
    replacement of the existing buildings by better ones would represent a
    heavy financial loss. The increasing social disapprobation of property
    vested in such wretched forms leads to the gradual substitution of owners
    who hold the social approval in contempt, for those who manifest a certain
    degree of sensitiveness. The tenants certainly gain nothing from the
    change. What is more likely to happen, is a screwing up of rents, an
    increasing promptness of evictions. Public opinion will in the end be
    roused against the landlords; the more timid among them will sell their
    holdings to others not less ruthless, but bolder and more astute. Attempts
    at public regulation will be fought with infinitely greater
    resourcefulness than could possibly have been displayed by respectable
    owners. Perhaps the final outcome will be that more drastic regulations
    are adopted than would have been the case had the shifting in ownership
    not taken place. There would still remain the possibility of the evasion
    of the law, and it is not at all improbable that the progress in the
    technique of evasion would outstrip the progress in regulation, thus
    leaving the tenant with a balance of disadvantage from the process as a
    whole.

    The most illuminating instance of a business interest subjected first to
    excommunication--literally--and then to outlawry, is that of the usurer,
    or, in modern parlance, the loan shark. To the mediæval mind there was
    something distinctly immoral in an income from property devoted to the
    furnishing of personal loans. We need not stop to defend the mediæval
    position or to attack it; all that concerns us here is that an opportunity
    for profit--that is, a potential property interest--was outlawed. In
    consequence it became impossible for reputable citizens to engage in the
    business. Usury therefore came to be monopolized by aliens, exempt from
    the current ethical formulation, who were "protected," for a
    consideration, by the prince, just as dubious modern property interests
    may be protected by the political boss.

    Let us summarize the results of eight hundred years of experience in this
    method of dealing with the usurer's trade. The business shifted from the
    control of citizens to that of aliens; from the hands of those who were
    aliens merely in a narrow, national sense, to the hands of those who are
    alien to our common humanity. Such lawless, tricky, extortionate loan
    sharks as now infest our cities were probably not to be found at all in
    mediæval or early modern times. They are a product of a secular process of
    selection. Their ability to evade the laws directed against them is
    consummate. It is true that from time to time we do succeed in catching
    one and fining him, or even imprisoning him. For which risk the small
    borrower is forced to pay, at a usurer's rate.

    Social improvement through the excommunication of property interests is
    inevitably a disorderly process. Wherever it is in operation we are sure
    to find the successive stages indicated in the foregoing examples. First,
    a gradual substitution of the conscienceless property holder for the one
    responsive to public sentiment. Next, under the threat of hostile popular
    action, the timid and resourceless property owner gives way to the
    resourceful and the bold. The third stage in the process is a vigorous
    political movement towards drastic regulation or abolition, evoking a
    desperate attempt on the part of the interests threatened to protect
    themselves by political means--that is, by gross corruption; or, if the
    menaced interest is a vast one, dominating a defensible territory, by
    armed rebellion, as in our own Civil War. If the interest is finally
    overwhelmed politically, and placed completely under the ban of the law,
    it has been given ample time to develop an unscrupulousness of personnel
    and an art of corruption that long enable it to exist illegally, a lasting
    reproach to the constituted authorities.

    V

    Suppression of anti-social interests by the methods in vogue amounts to
    little more than their banishment to the underworld. And we can well
    imagine the joy with which the denizens of the underworld receive such new
    accessions to their numbers and power. For in the nature of the case, it
    is inevitable that all varieties of outcasts and outlaws should join
    forces. The religious schismatic makes common cause with the pariah; the
    political offender with the thief and robber. Such association of elements
    vastly increases the difficulty of repressing crime. The band of thieves
    and robbers in the cave of Adullam doubtless found their powers of preying
    vastly increased through the acquisition of such a leader as David. The
    problem of mediæval vagabondage was rendered well-nigh incapable of
    solution by the fact that any beggar's rags might conceal a holy but
    excommunicated friar.

    Let us once more review our experience with the usurer. As an outcast he
    offers his support to other outcasts, and is in turn supported by them.
    The pawnbroker and the pickpocket are closely allied: without the
    pawnshop, pocketpicking would offer but a precarious living; without the
    picking of pockets, many pawnshops would find it impossible to meet
    expenses. The salary loan shark often works hand in glove with the
    professional gambler; each procures victims for the other. The
    "hole-in-the-wall" or "blind tiger" provides a rendezvous for all the
    outcasts of society. "Boot-legging" is a common subsidiary occupation for
    the pander, the thief and the cracksman. Where it flourishes, it serves to
    bridge over many a period of slack trade. Franchises whose validity is
    subject to political attack, bring to the aid of the underworld some of
    the most powerful interests in the community. The police are almost
    helpless when confronted by a coalition of persons of wealth and
    respectability with professional politicians commanding a motley array of
    yeggs and thugs, pimps and card-sharpers.

    Let us suppose that the developing social conscience places under the ban
    receipt of private income from land and other natural resources, and that
    a powerful movement aiming at the confiscation of such resources is under
    way. It is superfluous to point out that the vast interests threatened
    would offer a desperate resistance. The warfare against an incomparably
    lesser interest, the liquor trade, has taxed all the resources of the
    modern democratic state--on the whole the most absolute political
    organization known. In no instance has the state come out of the struggle
    completely victorious; the proscribed interest is yielding ground, if at
    all, only very slowly. What, then, would be the outcome of a struggle
    against the vastly greater landed interest? Perhaps the state would be
    victorious in the end. But for generations the landed interest would
    survive, if not by title of common law, at least by title of common
    corruption. And in the course of the conflict, we can not doubt that
    political disorder would flourish as never before, and that under its
    shelter private vice and crime would develop almost unchecked.

    We should disabuse ourselves of the notion that the will of a mere
    majority is absolute in the state. The law is a reality only when the
    outlawed interests represent an insignificant minority. Arbitrarily to
    increase the outlawed interests is to undermine the very foundations of
    society.

    VI

    The trend of the foregoing discussion, it will be said, is reactionary in
    the extreme. There are, as all must admit, private interests that are
    prejudicial to the public interest. Are they to be left in possession of
    the privilege of trading upon the public disaster--entrenching themselves,
    rendering still more difficult the future task of the reformer? By no
    means. The writer opposes no criticism to the extinction of anti-social
    private interests; on the contrary, he would have the state proceed
    against them with far greater vigor than it has hitherto displayed. It is
    important, however, to be sure first that a private interest is
    anti-social. Then the question is merely one of method. It is the author's
    contention that the method of excommunication and outlawry is the very
    worst conceivable.

    We are wont to hold up to scorn the British method of compensating liquor
    sellers for licenses revoked. It is an expensive method. But let us weigh
    its corresponding advantages. The licensee does not find himself in a
    position in which he must choose between personal destitution and the
    public interest. He dares not employ methods of resistance that would
    subject him to the risk of forfeiting the right to compensation. He may
    resist by fair means, but if he is intelligent, he will keep his skirts
    clear of foul. If his establishment is closed, he is not left, a ruined
    and desperate man, to project methods for carrying on his trade illicitly.
    On the contrary, the act of compensation has placed in his hands funds in
    which he might be mulcted if convicted of violation of the law. And if
    natural perversity should drive him to illegal practices, he would not
    find himself an object of sympathy on the part of that considerable
    minority that resent injustice even to those whom they regard as
    evil-doers.

    There can be little doubt that by the adoption of the principle of
    adequate compensation, an American commonwealth could extinguish any
    property interest that majority opinion pronounces anti-social. We may
    have industries that menace the public health. Under existing conditions
    the interests involved exert themselves to the utmost to suppress
    information relative to the dangers of such industries. With the principle
    of compensation in operation, these very interests would be the foremost
    in exposing the evils in question. It is no hardship to sell your interest
    to the public. Does any one feel aggrieved when the public decides to
    appropriate his land to a public use? On the contrary, every possessor of
    a site at all suited for a public building or playground does everything
    in his power to display its advantages in the most favorable light.

    And with this we have admitted a disadvantage of the compensation
    principle--over-compensation. We do pay excessively for property rights
    extinguished in the public interest. But this is largely because the
    principle is employed with such relative infrequency that we have not as
    yet developed a technique of compensation. German cities have learned how
    to acquire property for public use without either plundering the private
    owner or excessively enriching him. The British application of the Small
    Holdings Acts has duly protected the interests of the large landholder,
    without making of him a vociferous champion of the Acts.

    Progressive public morality readers one private interest after another
    indefensible. Let the public extinguish such interests, by all means. But
    let the public be moral at its own expense.

    A revolting doctrine, it will be said. Because men have been permitted,
    through gross defect in the laws, to build up interests in dealing out
    poisons to the public, are they to be compensated, like the purveyors of
    wholesome products, when the public decrees that their destructive
    activities shall cease? Because a corrupt legislature once gave away
    valuable franchises, are we and our children, and our children's children,
    forever to pay tribute, in the shape of interest on compensation funds, to
    the heirs of the shameless grantees? Because the land of a country was
    parcelled out, in a lawless age, among the unworthy retainers of a
    predatory prince, must we forever pay rent on every loaf we eat--as we
    should do, in fact, even if we transformed great landed estates into
    privately held funds? Did we not abolish human slavery, without
    compensation, and is there any one to question the justice of the act?

    We did indeed extinguish slavery without compensation to the slave owners.
    But if no one had ever conceived of such a policy we should have been a
    richer nation and a happier one. We paid for the slaves, in blood and
    treasure, many times the sum that would have made every slave owner eager
    to part with his slaves. Such enrichment of the slave owner would have
    been an act of social injustice, it may be said. The saying would be open
    to grave doubt, but the doctrine here advanced runs, not in terms of
    justice, but in terms of social expediency.

    And expediency is commonly regarded as a cheap substitute for justice. It
    is wrongly so regarded. Social justice, as usually conceived, looks to the
    past for its validity. Its preoccupation is the correction of ancient
    wrongs. Social expediency looks to the future: its chief concern is the
    prevention of future wrongs. As a guide to political action, the
    superiority of the claims of social expediency is indisputable.

    VII

    In the foregoing argument it has been deliberately assumed that the
    interests to be extinguished are, for the most part, universally
    recognized as anti-social. Slavery, health-destroying adulteration, the
    maintenance of tenements that menace life and morals, these at least
    represent interests so abominable that all must agree upon the wisdom of
    extinguishing them. The only point in dispute must be one of method. It is
    the contention of the present writer that when even such interests have
    had time to become clothed with an appearance of regularity, the method of
    extinction should be through compensation. By its tolerance of such
    interests, the public has made itself an accomplice in the mischief to
    which they give rise, and accordingly has not even an equitable right to
    throw the whole responsibility upon the private persons concerned.

    Interests thus universally recognized to be evil are necessarily few. In
    the vast majority of cases the establishment of interests we now seek to
    proscribe took place in an epoch in which no evil was imputed to them. At
    first a small minority, usually regarded as fanatics, attack the interests
    in question. This minority increases, and in the end transforms itself
    into a majority. But long after majority opinion has become adverse, there
    remains a vigorous minority opinion defending the menaced interests. A
    hundred years ago the distilling of spirituous liquors was almost
    universally regarded as an entirely legitimate industry. The enemies of
    the industry were few and of no political consequence. Today in many
    communities the industry is utterly condemned by majority opinion. There
    is, however, no community in which a minority honestly defending the
    industry is absolutely wanting. Admitting that the majority opinion is
    right, it remains none the less true that adherents of the minority
    opinion would regard themselves as most grievously wronged if the majority
    proceeded to a destruction of their interests.

    Where moral issues alone are involved, we may perhaps accept the view that
    the well considered opinion of the majority is as near as may be to
    infallibility. But it is very rarely the case that the question of the
    legitimacy of a property interest can be reduced to a purely moral issue.
    Usually there are also at stake, technical and broad economic issues in
    which majority judgment is notoriously fallible. Thus we have at times had
    large minorities who believed that the bank as an institution is wholly
    evil, and ought to be abolished. This was the majority opinion in one
    period of the history of Texas, and in accordance with it, established
    banking interests were destroyed by law. It is only within the last
    fifteen years that the majority of the citizens of that commonwealth have
    admitted the error of the earlier view.

    In the course of the last twenty-five years, notable progress has been
    made in the art of preserving perishable foods through refrigeration.
    There are differences of opinion as to the effect upon the public health
    of food so preserved; and further differences as to the effect of the cold
    storage system upon the cost of living. On neither the physiological nor
    the economic questions involved is majority opinion worthy of special
    consideration. None the less, legislative measures directed against the
    storage interests have been seriously considered in a large number of
    states, and were it not for the difficulties inherent in the regulation of
    interstate commerce, we should doubtless see the practice of cold storage
    prohibited in some jurisdictions. Those whose property would thus be
    destroyed would accept their losses with much bitterness, in view of the
    fact that the weight of expert opinion holds their industry to be in the
    public interest.

    What still further exacerbates the feeling of injury on the part of those
    whose interests are proscribed, is the fact that the purity of motives of
    the persons most active in the campaign of proscription is not always
    clear. Not many years ago we had a thriving manufacture of artificial
    butter. The persons engaged in the industry claimed that their product was
    as wholesome as that produced according to the time-honored process, and
    that its cheapness promised an important advance in the adequate
    provisioning of the people. We destroyed the industry, very largely
    because of our strong bent toward conservatism in all matters pertaining
    to the table. But among the influences that were most active in taxing
    artificial butter out of existence, was the competing dairymen's interest.

    It is asserted by those who would shift the whole burden of taxation onto
    land that they are animated by the most unselfish motives, whereas their
    opponents are defending their selfish interests alone. Yet a common Single
    Tax appeal to the large manufacturer and the small house-owner takes the
    form of a computation demonstrating that those classes would gain more
    through the reduction in the burden on improvements than they would lose
    through increase in burden on the land. Let it be granted that personal
    advantage is not incompatible with purity of motives. The association of
    ideas does not, however, inspire confidence, especially in the breasts of
    those whose interests are threatened.

    Extinction of property interests without compensation necessarily makes
    our legislative bodies the battleground of conflicting interests. Honest
    motives are combined with crooked ones in the attack upon an interest;
    crooked and honest motives combine in its defense. Out of the disorder
    issues a legislative determination that may be in the public interest or
    may be prejudicial to it. And most likely the law is inadequately
    supported by machinery of enforcement: it is effective in controlling the
    scrupulous; to the unscrupulous it is mere paper. In many instances its
    net effect is only to increase the risks connected with the conduct of a
    business.

    When England prohibited importation of manufactures from France, the
    import trade continued none the less, under the form of smuggling. The
    risk of seizure was merely added to the risk of fire and flood. Just as
    one could insure against the latter risks, so the practice arose of
    insuring against seizure. At one time, at any rate, in the French ports
    were to be found brokers who would insure the evasion of a cargo of goods
    for a premium of fifteen per cent. At the safe distance of a century and a
    half, the absurd prohibition and its incompetent administration are
    equally comic. At the time, however, there was nothing comic in the
    contempt for law and order thus engendered, in the feeling of outrage on
    the part of those ruined by seizures, and in the alliance of respectable
    merchants with the thieves and footpads enlisted for the smuggling trade.

    VIII

    It is a common observation of present day social reformers that an
    excessive regard is displayed by our governmental organs for security of
    property, while security of non-property rights is neglected. And this
    would indeed be a serious indictment of the existing order if there were
    in fact a natural antithesis between the security of property and security
    of the person. There is, however, no such antithesis. In the course of
    history the establishment of security of property has, as a rule, preceded
    the establishment of personal security, and has provided the conditions in
    which personal security becomes possible. Adequate policing is essential
    to any form of security. Property can pay for policing; the person can
    not. This is a crude and materialistic interpretation of the facts, but it
    is essentially sound.

    How much personal security existed in England, five centuries and a half
    ago, when it was possible for Richard to carve his way through human flesh
    to the throne? The lowly, certainly, enjoyed no greater security than the
    high born. How much personal security exists in the late Macedonian
    provinces of the Turkish Empire, or in northern Mexico? It is safe to
    issue a challenge to all the world to produce an instance, contemporary or
    historical, of a country in which property is insecure and in which human
    life and human happiness are not still more insecure. On the other hand,
    it is difficult to produce an instance of a state in which security of
    property has long been established, in which there is not a progressive
    sensitiveness about the non-propertied rights of man. It is in the
    countries where the sacredness of private property is a fetich, that one
    finds recognition of a universal right to education, of a right to
    protection against violence and against epidemic disease, of a right to
    relief in destitution. These are perhaps meagre rights; but they represent
    an expanding category. The right to support in time of illness and in old
    age is making rapid progress. The development of such rights is not only
    not incompatible with security of property, but it is, in large measure, a
    corollary of property security. Personal rights shape themselves upon the
    analogy of property rights; they utilize the same channels of thought and
    habit. One of the most powerful arguments for "social insurance" is its
    very name. Insurance is recognized as an essential to the security of
    property; it is therefore easy to make out a case for the application of
    the principle to non-propertied claims.

    Some may claim that the security of property has now fulfilled its
    mission; that we can safely allow the principle to decay in order to
    concentrate our attention upon the task of establishing non-propertied
    rights. But let us remember that we are not removed from barbarism by the
    length of a universe. The crust of orderly civilization is deep under our
    feet: but not six hundred years deep. The primitive fires still smoke on
    our Mexican borders and in the Balkans. And blow holes open from time to
    time through our own seemingly solid crust--in Colorado, in West Virginia,
    in the Copper Country. It is evidently premature to affirm that the
    security of property has fulfilled its mission.

    IX

    The question at issue, is not, however, the rights of property against the
    rights of man--or more honestly--the rights of labor. The claims of labor
    upon the social income may advance at the expense of the claims of
    property. In the institutional struggle between the propertied and the
    propertyless, the sympathies of the writer are with the latter party. It
    is his hope and belief that an ever increasing share of the social income
    will assume the form of rewards for personal effort.

    But this is an altogether different matter from the crushing of one
    private property interest after another, in the name of the social welfare
    or the social morality. Such detailed attacks upon property interests are,
    in the end, to the injury of both social classes. Frequently they amount
    to little more than a large loss to one property interest, and a small
    gain to another. They increase the element of insecurity in all forms of
    property; for who shall say which form is immune from attack? Now it is
    the slum tenement, obvious corollary of our social inequalities; next it
    may be the marble mansion or gilded hotel, equally obvious corollaries of
    the same institutional situation. Now it is the storage of meat that is
    under attack; it may next be the storage of flour. The fact is, our mass
    of income yielding possessions is essentially an organic whole. The
    irreproachable incomes are not exactly what they would be if those subject
    to reproach did not exist. If some property incomes are dirty, all
    property incomes become turbid.

    The cleansing of property incomes, therefore, is a first obligation of the
    institution of property as a whole. The compensation principle throws the
    cost of the cleansing upon the whole mass, since, in the last analysis,
    any considerable burden of taxation will distribute itself over the mass.
    The principle is therefore consonant with justice. What is not less
    important, the principle, systematically developed, would go far toward
    freeing the legislature from the graceless function of arbitrating between
    selfish interests, and the administration from the necessity of putting
    down powerful interests outlawed by legislative act. It would give us a
    State working smoothly, and therefore an efficient instrument for social
    ends. Most important of all, it would promote that security of economic
    interests which is essential to social progress.

    A STUBBORN RELIC OF FEUDALISM

    There is a persistent question regarding the distribution of property
    which is of peculiar interest in the season of automobile tours and summer
    hotels. Most thinking people acknowledge a good deal of perplexity over
    this question, while on most parallel ones they are generally
    cock-sure--on whichever is the side of their personal interests. But in
    this question the bias of personal interest is not very large, and
    therefore it may be considered with more chance of agreement than can the
    larger questions of the same class which parade under various disguises.

    The little question is that of tipping. After we have squeezed out of it
    such antitoxic serum as we can, we will briefly indicate the application
    of it to larger questions.

    Tipping is plainly a survival of the feudal relation, long before the
    humbler men had risen from the condition of status to that of contract,
    when fixed pay in the ordinary sense was unknown, and where the relation
    between servant and master was one of ostensible voluntary service and
    voluntary support, was for life, and in its best aspect was a relation of
    mutual dependence and kindness. Then the spasmodic payment was, as tips
    are now, essential to the upper man's dignity, and very especially to the
    dignity of his visitor. This feudal relation survives in England today to
    such an extent that poor men refrain from visiting their rich relations
    because of the tips. In the great country-houses the tips are expected to
    be in gold, at least so I was told some years ago. And in England and out
    of it, Don Cesar's bestowal of his last shilling on the man who had served
    him, still thrills the audience, at least the tipped portion of it.

    Europe being on the whole less removed from feudal institutions than we
    are, tipping is not only more firmly established there, but more
    systematized. It is more nearly the rule that servants' places in hotels
    are paid for, and they are apt to be dependent entirely upon tips. The
    greater wealth of America, on the other hand, and the extravagance of the
    _nouveaux riches_, has led in some institutions to more extravagant
    tipping than is dreamed of in Europe, and consequently has scattered
    through the community a number of servants from Europe who, when here,
    receive with gratitude from a foreigner, a tip which they would scorn from
    an American.

    In the midst of general relations of contract--of agreed pay for agreed
    service, tipping is an anomaly and a constant puzzle.

    It would seem strange, if it were not true of the greater questions of the
    same kind, that in the chronic discussion of this one, so little
    attention, if any, has been paid to what may be the fundamental line of
    division between the two sides--namely, the distinction between ideal
    ethics and practical ethics.

    An illustration or two will help explain that distinction:

    First illustration: "Thou shalt not kill" which is ideal ethics in an
    ideal world of peace. Practical ethics in the real world are illustrated
    in Washington and Lee, who for having killed their thousands, are placed
    beside the saints!

    Second illustration: Obey the laws and tell the truth. This is ideal
    ethics, which our very legislatures do much to prevent being practical.
    For instance; they ignore the fact that in the present state of morality,
    taxes on personal property can be collected from virtually nobody but
    widows and orphans who have no one to evade the taxes for them. So the
    legislatures continue the attempt to tax personal property, and a judge on
    the bench says that a man who lies about his personal taxes shall not on
    that account be held an unreliable witness in other matters.

    Or to take an illustration less radical: it is not in legal testimony
    alone that ideal ethics require everybody to tell the truth, the whole
    truth, and nothing but the truth--that the world should have as much truth
    as possible; and if the world were perfectly kind, perfectly honest and
    perfectly wise (which last involves the first two), that ideal could be
    realized. For instance, in our imperfect world a man telling people when
    he did not like them, would be constantly giving needless pain and making
    needless enemies, whereas in an ideal world--made up of perfect people,
    there would be nobody to dislike, or, pardon the Hibernicism, if there
    were, the whole truth could be told without causing pain or enmity. Or
    again, in a world where there are dishonest people, a man telling
    everything about his schemes, would have them run away with by others,
    though in an ideal world, where there were no dishonest people, he could
    speak freely. In fact, the necessity of reticence in this connection does
    not even depend on the existence of dishonesty: for in a world where
    people have to look out for themselves, instead of everybody looking out
    for everybody else, a man exposing his plans might hurry the execution of
    competing plans on the part of perfectly honest people.

    Farther illustration may be sufficiently furnished by the topic in hand.

    In the case of most poor folks other than servants, what to do about it
    has lately been pretty distinctly settled: the religion of pauperization
    is pretty generally set aside: almsgiving, the authorities on ethics now
    generally hold, should be restricted to deserving cases--to people
    incapacitated by constitution or circumstance from taking proper care of
    themselves.

    Now is tipping almsgiving, and are servants among the deserving classes?

    How many people have asked themselves these simple questions, and how many
    who are educated up to habitually refusing alms unless the last of the
    questions is affirmatively answered, just as habitually tip servants?

    Is tipping almsgiving? Not in the same sense that alms are given without
    any show of anything in return: the servant does something for the tipper.
    Yes, but he is paid for it by his employer. True, but only sometimes: at
    other times he is only partly paid, depending for the rest on tips; and
    sometimes the tips are so valuable that the servant pays his alleged
    employer for the opportunity to get them. Yet I know one hotel in Germany,
    and probably there are others, there and elsewhere, where the menus and
    other stationery bear requests against tipping. But in that one hotel I
    know tipping to be as rife as in hotels generally: the customers are not
    educated up to the landlord's standard. And here we come to the
    fundamental remedy for all questionable practices--the education of the
    people beyond them. But this is simply the ideal condition in which ideal
    ethics could prevail. Meanwhile we must determine the practical ethics of
    the actual world.

    The servant's position is different from that of most other wage-earners,
    in that he is in direct contact with the person who is to benefit from his
    work. The man who butchers your meat or grinds your flour, you probably
    never see; but the man who brushes your clothes or waits on your table,
    holds to you a personal relation, and he can do his work so as merely to
    meet a necessity, or so as to rise beyond mere necessity into comfort or
    luxury. Outside of home servants, the necessity is all that, in the
    present state of human nature, his regular stipend is apt to provide; the
    comfort or the luxury, the feeling of personal interest, the atmosphere of
    promptness and cheerfulness and ease, is apt to respond only to the tip.
    Only in the ideal world will it be spontaneous. In the real world it must
    be paid for.

    And why should it not be--why is it not as legitimate to pay for having
    your wine well cooled or carefully tempered and decanted, as to pay for
    the wine itself? The objection apt to be first urged is that it degrades
    the servant. But does it? He is not an ideal man in an ideal world,
    already doing his best or paid to do his best. You are not degrading him
    from any such standard as that, into the lower one of requiring tips: you
    are simply taking him as he is. True, if he got no tips, he would not
    depend upon them; but without them he would not do all you want him to;
    before he will do that, he must be developed into a different man--he must
    become a creature of an ideal world. You may in the course of ages develop
    him into that, and as you do, he will work better and better, and tips may
    grow smaller and smaller, until he does his best spontaneously, and tips
    have dwindled to nothing. But to withdraw them now would simply make him
    sulky, and lead to his doing worse than now.

    Another objection urged against tips is that they put the rich tipper at
    an advantage over the poor one. But the rich man is at an advantage in
    nearly everything else, why not here? The idea of depriving him of his
    advantages, is rank communism, which destroys the stimulus to energy and
    ingenuity that, in the present state of human nature, is needed to keep
    the world moving. In an ideal state of human nature, the man with ability
    to create wealth may find stimulus enough, as some do to a considerable
    extent now, in the delight of distributing wealth for the general good;
    but we are considering what is practicable in the present state of human
    nature.

    Another aspect of the case, or at least a wider aspect, is the more
    sentimental one where the tip is prompted as reciprocation for spontaneous
    kindness.

    But in the service of private families, as distinct from service to the
    general public or to visitors it is notorious that constant tipping is
    ruinous. Occasional holidays and treats and presents at Christmas and on
    special occasions are useful, as promoting the general feeling of
    reciprocation. But from visitors the tip is generally essential to
    ensuring the due meed of respect. Yet we can reasonably imagine a time
    when it may not be; and even now, for the casual service of holding a
    horse or brushing off the dust, a hearty "thank you" is perhaps on the
    whole better than a tip.

    Considering the morality of the question all around--the practical ethics
    as well as the ideal, the underlying facts are that no man ought to be a
    servant in the servile sense, and indeed no man ought to be poor; and in
    an ideal world no man would be one or the other. Just how we are to get a
    world without servants or servile people, is perhaps a little more plain
    than how we are to get Mr. Bellamy's world without poor people, which,
    however, amounts to nearly the same thing. At least we will get a less
    servile world, as machinery and organization make service less and less
    personal. Bread has long been to a great extent made away from home; much
    of the washing is also done away in great laundries, and organizations
    have lately been started to call for men's outer clothes, and keep them
    cleaned, repaired and pressed. There is a noticeable rise, too, in the
    dignity of personal service: witness the college students at the summer
    hotels, and the self-respecting Jap in the private family. These
    influences are making for the ideal world in relation to service, and
    _when_ we get it, no man will take tips, and nobody will offer them.

    But in our stage of evolution, the tip, like the larger prizes, is part of
    the general stimulus to the best exertion and the best feeling, and is
    therefore legitimate; but it, like every other stimulus, should not be
    applied in excess, and the tendency should be to abolish it. The rich man
    often is led by good taste and good morals to restrain his expenditure in
    many directions, and there are few directions, if any, in which good taste
    and good morals more commend the happy medium than in tips. Excess in
    them, however, is not always prompted by good nature and generosity and
    reciprocation of spontaneous kindness, but often by desire for comfort,
    and even by ostentation. But all such promptings require regulation for
    the same reason that, it is now becoming generally recognized, the
    promptings of even charity itself require regulation.

    The head of one of the leading Fifth Avenue restaurants once said to the
    writer, substantially: "We don't like tips: they demoralize our men. But
    what can we do about it? We can't stop it, or even keep it within bounds.
    Our customers will give them, and people who have too much money or too
    little sense, give not only dollar bills or five dollar bills, but fifty
    dollar bills and even hundred dollar bills. We have tried to stave off
    customers who do such things: we believe that in the long run it would pay
    us to; but we can't."

    When all the promptings of liberality or selfishness or ostentation are
    well regulated, we will be in the ideal world. Until then, in the actual
    world, it is the part of wisdom to regulate ideal ethics by practical
    ethics--and tip, but tip temperately.

    * * * * *

    And now to apply our principles to a wider field.

    The ideal is that all men should have what they produce. The ideal is also
    that all men should have full shares of the good things of life. These two
    ideals inevitably combine into a third--that all men should produce full
    shares of the good things of life. But the plain fact is that they
    cannot--that no amount of opportunity or appliances will enable the
    average day laborer to produce what Mr. Edison or Mr. Hill or even the
    average deviser of work and guide of labor does. Then even ideal ethics
    cannot say in this actual world: Let both have the same. That would simply
    be Robin Hood ethics: rob the man who produces much, and give the plunder
    to the man who produces little. Hence comes the disguising of the schemes
    to do it, even so that they often deceive their own devisers. What then do
    practical ethics say? They can't say anything more than: Help the less
    capable to become capable, so that he may produce more. But that is at
    least as slow a process as raising the servant beyond the stage of tips.
    Meantime the socialists are unwilling to wait, and propose to rob the
    present owners of the means of production, and take the control of
    industry from the men who manage it now, and put it in the hands of the
    men who merely can influence votes. These men certainly are no less
    selfish and dishonest than the captains of industry, and are vastly less
    able to select the profitable fields of industry, and organize and
    economize industry; whatever product they might squeeze out would be
    vastly less than now, and it would stick to their own fingers no less than
    does what the politicians handle now. Dividing whatever might reach the
    people, without reference to those who produced it, could yield the
    average man no more than he gets now. That's very simple mathematics. One
    of the saddest sights of the day is the number of good people to whom
    these facts are not self-evident.

    In no state of human nature that any persons now living, or the grandchild
    of any person now living, will witness, could such conditions be
    permanent. Their temporary realization might be accomplished; but if it
    were, the able men would not be satisfied with either the low grade of
    civilization inevitable unless they worked, or with being robbed of the
    large share of production that must result from their work. The more
    intelligent of the rank and file, too, would rebel against the conditions
    inevitably lowering the general prosperity, and they would soon realize
    the difference in industrial leadership between "political generals" and
    natural generals. Insurrection would follow, and then anarchy, after which
    things would start again on their present basis, but some generations
    behind.

    But I for one do not expect these experiences, especially in America: for
    here probably enough men have already become property holders to make a
    sufficient balance of power for the preservation of property. If not, the
    first step toward ensuring civilization, is helping enough men to develop
    into property holders, and _continue_ property holders, which general
    experience declares that they will not unless they develop their property
    themselves.

    AN EXPERIMENT IN SYNDICALISM

    During the last twenty years New Zealand has tried many social and
    economic experiments; these experiments have been made by her own
    Legislature, and her own people; and as a rule they have been remarkably
    successful: during the last few months she has had the experience of a new
    one conducted by strangers, and made at her expense. Fortunately there is
    reason to believe that this one will be found to have resulted in benefit
    to New Zealand and its people, while it may prove of service to older and
    larger countries. It is probable that the most widely known of New
    Zealand's experiments is that which aimed at doing justice to employers
    and employees alike by the substitution for the Industrial strike of a
    Court of Arbitration, fairly constituted, on which both Workers and
    Employers were equally represented. This law has been branded by the
    supporters of the usual Strike policy with the name of "Compulsory
    Arbitration," the object being to discredit it in the eyes of the workers,
    as an infringement of their liberty. The title is unfair and misleading.
    Unlike most laws, it never has been of universal application either to
    Workers or Employers, but only to those among them that chose to form
    themselves into industrial Unions, and to register those Unions as subject
    to the provisions of the Statute. The purpose of the Statute was an appeal
    to the common sense of the people, by offering them an alternative method
    of settling disputes and securing that fair-play for both parties which
    experience had shown could seldom be secured by the strike. The law, which
    was first introduced in 1894, had gradually appealed both to workers and
    employers, as worth trying, and before the close of the last century it
    had rendered the country prosperous, and had attracted the attention of
    thoughtful people in many other parts of the world to the "Country Without
    Strikes." Efforts were made in several countries to introduce the
    principle of the New Zealand Statute, but with very little success, as it
    was generally opposed both by workers and employers:--the workers feeling
    confident they could obtain greater concessions by the forceful methods of
    the strike, and the employers suspecting that any Court of Arbitration
    would be likely to give the workers more than, without arbitration, they
    could compel the employers to surrender.

    In the mean time the statutory substitute for the strike continued to
    succeed in New Zealand. Nearly every class of town workers, and some in
    the country, had formed Unions, and registered them under the arbitration
    law. With a single trifling exception, that was speedily put an end to by
    the punishment of the Union with the alternative of heavy fine or
    imprisonment, the country was literally as well as nominally a country
    without a strike. And it was something more than that: its prosperity
    increased year by year, and its production of goods--agricultural,
    pastoral, and manufactured--increased at a pace unequalled elsewhere. Yet
    the prosperity was most apparent in its effect on the conditions of the
    workers: under the successive awards of the arbitration court, wages had
    steadily increased until they had reached a point as high as in similar
    trades in America, while the cost of living was very little more than half
    the rate in any town in the United States. To all intelligent observers
    these facts were evident, and could not be concealed from the workers in
    other countries, especially in Australia, as the nearest geographically to
    New Zealand and commercially the most closely connected.

    The effect, however, on the workers of Australia was not what might have
    been expected. Attempts had been made by some of the State Legislatures to
    introduce arbitration laws more or less like the New Zealand statute, but
    with very partial success. From the first these laws were opposed by the
    leaders of the Labor Unions, who naturally saw a menace to their influence
    in the fact that they became subject to punishment if they attempted to
    use their accustomed powers over their fellow unionists. The example of
    New Zealand was lauded in the Australian Legislatures and newspapers, and
    even in the courts, till at last a feeling of strong antagonism was
    developed among the more advanced class of socialistic Labor men, and it
    was decided by their leaders to undertake a campaign in the neighboring
    Dominion against the system of settling industrial questions by courts,
    and in favor of substituting the system of strikes, with their attendant
    power and profit to the Labor leaders. The first steps taken were sending
    men from Australia or England on lecturing tours through New Zealand, to
    create dissatisfaction with the Arbitration Courts by representing them as
    leaning to the side of the employers, and ignoring the claims of the
    workers. When this had gone on for about a year, workers of various
    classes were induced to cross from Australia, and join the Unions in New
    Zealand, for the purpose of influencing their fellow unionists to
    disloyalty towards the system under which they were registered. These men
    were generally competent workers and clever agitators, and many of them
    soon obtained prominence and official position in the Unions. As was
    natural, a good many of these new-comers were miners--either for coal or
    gold--and many of them joined the miners' union at the great gold mine
    known as the Waihi, from which upwards of thirty million dollars worth of
    gold had been dug, and which was still yielding between three and four
    million dollars a year. There were nearly a thousand miners employed
    there, and all of them were members of a Union that was duly registered
    under the Arbitration statute.

    There had been several questions in dispute between the miners and the
    owners, and these had been referred to the Arbitration Court some time
    before the arrival of the new Australian miners. The result, while it
    favored the Union in some respects, favored the Company in others, and
    this fact was used by the new-comers to convince the older hands that the
    Court had been unfair, and that they could secure much better terms for
    themselves if they would cease work, and so inflict immense loss by
    permitting the lower levels of the mine to become flooded. After a few
    months the Union decided to take advantage of the provision of the law
    which enabled any registered Union to withdraw its registration at six
    months' notice. When the time had expired, the Union repeated the demand
    which had been refused by the Court, and on the refusal of the Company to
    agree, a strike was at once declared, and the whole of the miners ceased
    work. This had the effect, within a very short time, of rendering all the
    deeper levels of the mine unworkable. Close to the mine was a prosperous
    little town occupied chiefly by the miners and their families, most of the
    houses being the property of the mining company, and the men continued to
    occupy the houses while the strike was in progress. Other miners were
    found who were ready to take their places, but the men in possession
    refused to move out, and threatened with violence any miners that should
    attempt to work the mine. The men who had been prepared to work, finding
    this to be the position, withdrew. As there was no actual violence shown,
    there seemed to be a difficulty in the way of any interference by the
    Government: so several months passed, during which the mine lay idle while
    the miners on strike continued to occupy the houses and pay the very
    moderate rents demanded from employees of the company. This they were able
    to do partly from their savings, partly from the sympathetic contributions
    from Australia, and partly by some of the miners having scattered over the
    country and got work on the farms, and throwing their earnings into the
    common fund.

    After repeated appeals by the mine-owners to the Government, an
    arrangement was made that the Company should employ miners willing to
    become members of a new Union registered under the Arbitration statute,
    and that the Government should send a police force sufficient to protect
    these in working the mine, and also to enforce the judgment of the local
    court in dispossessing the occupants of the houses belonging to the
    Company. An attempt was made by the strikers to defy this police force and
    prevent the new Union from working the mine; but when most of the new
    unionists had been sworn in as special constables, and a number of the
    militant strikers had been arrested, the others saw that they could not
    continue the struggle, and within a week or two abandoned the district,
    giving place to the members of the arbitration Union in both the mine and
    town.

    Thus the first strike organized by the "Federation of Labor" in New
    Zealand resulted in a failure, but the miners thus defeated and driven
    from the little town that had been their home, in many cases for a good
    many years, were naturally embittered by their failure, and became an
    element of mischief in other districts, and especially in the coal mines,
    to which they turned when they found it hard to obtain employment in any
    of the gold mines.

    The Australian Federation of Labor and its branch in New Zealand fully
    appreciated the fact that their first attempt to establish a system of
    Unionism opposed to the one recognized by the law, having proved a
    failure, it was necessary either to give up the attempt altogether or to
    make it more deliberately and on a much wider scale. The method they
    adopted was one that did credit to their foresight and determination. The
    Australian Federation is, and has always been, highly socialistic in its
    policy, and latterly its leaders have adopted and preached syndicalism, as
    promising to give the workers the control of society. New Zealand, alone
    among self-governing countries, having struck at the very root of their
    policy by trying to substitute a statute and a Court for the will of the
    associated workers, was a very tempting country for syndicalism. An island
    country which, owing to climate and soil, was specially suited for the
    production of all kinds of agricultural wealth beyond the needs of its own
    people, must depend on free access to the ports of other countries. This,
    it seemed plain, could be prevented by well managed syndicalism. It would
    be only necessary to organize the seamen who worked the vessels that kept
    the smaller harbors of such a country in touch with the larger ports at
    which the ocean going ships loaded and unloaded; and to organize also the
    stevedores at the larger ports. The bitterness of feeling that had
    followed the destruction of the Waihi Union, and the loss to its members
    not only of a good many months of good wages but of the homes they and
    their families had occupied for years, was a valuable asset in such a
    campaign. At first, of course, some of the working classes blamed the
    agents of "The Federation of Labor" who were responsible for the
    disastrous strike, but it was not difficult to turn attention from the
    past failure of a single strike, to the certain success that must attend a
    great syndical strike that would involve all the industries of the
    country. Most, indeed nearly all, of the disappointed Waihi strikers were
    ready to join with enthusiasm in carrying out the plans of The Federation,
    and removed to the places where they could be most effective in preparing
    the way for what they looked upon as a great revenge. Thus they either
    joined the old Unions at the principal ports, especially Auckland and
    Wellington, or formed new Unions, no longer registered under the
    Arbitration statute, but openly affiliated to The Federation of Labor,
    which had been established in New Zealand, but was really a branch of the
    Australian Federation. The four principal ports of New Zealand, indeed the
    only ports much frequented by the large export and import vessels, are
    Auckland, Wellington, Lyttleton, and Dunedin, the two first named being in
    the north island, and the other two in the south. Auckland is considerably
    the largest city in The Dominion, containing at least 25,000 more
    inhabitants than Wellington, which is not only the capital of the
    Dominion, but also the great distributing centre for the South island and
    the southern part of the North island, at the southern extremity of which
    it is situated. The remarkable situation of Auckland, on a very narrow
    isthmus about a hundred and eighty miles from the northern point of the
    country, is no doubt largely responsible for the growth of the city, which
    is the chief centre of the young manufactures of the Dominion, and the
    largest port of export for almost all the country produces, except wool
    and mutton, which are mainly raised in the South island. Thus it happens
    that Auckland and Wellington are at present the chief shipping ports of
    the Dominion, and it was to them that the Federation of Labor turned its
    chief attention when its leaders had definitely decided to undertake the
    campaign of syndicalism against the system of arbitration which had
    prevailed for sixteen years.

    There had already been formed Unions of Waterside Workers and Seamen at
    each of these ports; but they were in all cases registered under the
    arbitration law, and of course subject to its penalties against both
    officials and members in cases of any breach of the statute. The
    Federation's agents proceeded to collect the members of these unions who
    were in any way dissatisfied with the existing awards of the Arbitration
    Courts, and to form them into new Unions outside the statute. They had
    little difficulty in persuading the men that the new Unions would be free
    to act in many directions that were barred to the members of the old
    Unions. A good many of the men were thus persuaded to resign their
    membership in the existing Unions, and as they were very often the most
    active members, they gradually persuaded others to leave with them. There
    was nothing either in the law or custom of the ports to prevent unionists
    and non-unionists working together on the wharves or the coasting vessels;
    so within a comparatively short time the members of the new Federation
    Unions were more numerous than those that clung to the older ones. When
    this became the case, the officials of the new Unions approached the
    shipping companies with proposals for an agreement between them and the
    Federation Unions in some respects more favorable to the employers than
    the arbitration award under which the older Unions were working, and in
    this way gained a position which enabled them to undermine the old Unions,
    till they either died out for want of members or withdrew their
    registration, and at the end of their six months' notice merged their
    Unions in those of The Federation. The Federation's plans had been so
    carefully prepared that there was little or no suspicion on the part of
    the employers or of the public generally as to the true meaning of the
    movement. It was evident, of course, that it indicated a revolt against
    the arbitration law, but as the new unions appeared ready to give the
    employers rather better terms than the old ones, many reasons were found
    by employers for defending what began to be called the "Free Unions." In
    this way things had gone on at the shipping ports for about two years from
    the failure of the gold miners' strike at Waihi, before anything happened
    to open the eyes of the public to the real meaning of what The Federation
    of Labor had been doing. In that time the new Unions at each of the
    principal ports of the country had quietly obtained the entire control of
    the hands at waterside and local shipping, as well as of the Carters
    Unions. The time had arrived when the syndicalists believed themselves
    able to compel the public to submit to any demands they might see fit to
    make.

    The occasion finally arose, as might have been expected, at Wellington,
    where the Federation of Labor had established its head-quarters. There was
    no definite dispute between the employers and workers, but for a few weeks
    there had been an uneasy feeling in relation to the Waterside Workers who,
    it was said, were growing more lazy and slovenly in handling cargo on the
    wharves and piers. A meeting had been called by The Federation to discuss
    some grievances of the coal miners at Westport, from which most of the
    coal landed in Wellington is brought. The meeting was called for the noon
    dinner hour, and a number of the waterside workers engaged in discharging
    cargo from a steamer about to sail, at once went to the meeting, and did
    not return to work in the afternoon. The shipping company at once engaged
    other men to finish their work, and when the men came back some hours
    later, they found their places filled up. The new men belonged to the same
    Union, but the men dispossessed demanded that the new ones should be
    dismissed at once. When the company refused the demand, the men appealed
    to the Council of the Federation, who at once called on the Waterside
    Workers and Seamens Unions at Wellington to cease work. Within a few days
    the position looked so serious that the Premier invited both parties to a
    conference, at which he presided in person, in the hope of bringing about
    an agreement to refer the matters in dispute to an arbitrator to be
    mutually agreed upon. The officials of The Federation, however, said there
    was nothing to submit to an arbitrator: they had made a demand, and unless
    it was complied with by the shipping company and the Union of merchants at
    Wellington who were in league with the Company in victimizing the men who
    took part in the meeting in aid of the Coal-miners, the strike must go on.
    The Merchants and Shipping Company's Unions pointed out that what had been
    done was in direct opposition to the terms of the formal agreement signed
    less than a year before, and they refused to have anything more to do with
    the Federation on any terms. The conference thus ended in an open
    declaration of war. The time had evidently come for the Federation of
    Labor to make good the assertions so often made by its lecturers and
    agitators, of its power to force the rest of the community to submission.
    It would be difficult to imagine a more favorable position for carrying
    such a policy into effect: New Zealand, it must be borne in mind, is a
    country without an army. For some years past, it is true, a system of
    military training for all her young men between eighteen and twenty-five
    has been enforced by law, but except for training purposes, there is no
    military force in the Dominion, either of regulars or militia; and it is
    now forty-five years since the last company of British soldiers left its
    shores. Law has been maintained, and order enforced, by a police force
    under the control of the Government of the Dominion, and while the force
    is undoubtedly a good and trustworthy one, its numbers have never been
    large in proportion to the population. This year the entire force
    throughout the country is very little more than 850, which includes
    officers as well as men. It can hardly be wondered at that the officials
    of The Federation of Labor were convinced that, if they could arrange a
    general strike of the workers, the police force would be powerless to deal
    with it. On the failure of the attempt of the Premier to bring about a
    settlement between the parties by arbitration, the Federation proclaimed a
    general strike of all Unions affiliated to themselves throughout the
    country, and of all other Unions that were in sympathy with them in their
    policy of giving united Labor the control of society. The order to cease
    work was at once obeyed, as a matter of course, by all the Federation
    Unions, which practically meant all the workers engaged on vessels
    registered in the Dominion and trading on the coast, all workers on
    wharves and piers, carters in the cities, and coal miners throughout the
    country. The appeal for sympathetic assistance from Unions unconnected
    with the Federation was largely successful in the chief centres, though it
    was, of course, a direct defiance of the arbitration law under which they
    were registered. It has since been discovered that in nearly every case it
    was brought about by the unprincipled scheming of the secretaries,
    assisted by a few of the officials, who called meetings, of which notice
    was given only to a selected minority, and at which the question of
    joining a sympathetic strike was settled by a large majority of those
    present, but in fact in many cases a small minority of the whole
    membership. The sympathetic strike of Arbitration Unions was mainly
    confined to the cities, and Auckland, as the largest city, was the most
    affected by it. In Auckland the members of practically every Union ceased
    work, somewhere about ten thousand persons going on strike simultaneously.

    The result during the first days of the strike seemed likely to confirm
    the expectations of the Federation orators. Industry was practically dead.
    At every port vessels lay at anchor, having been withdrawn from the
    wharves before they were deserted by their crews, and the wharves were in
    the possession of the Waterside strikers. The streets of the cities were
    empty, and a large proportion of the stores were closed, partly owing to
    want of business, and partly from fear of violence in case they kept open.
    These first few days in both New Zealand and Australia were days of
    triumph for the Federation leaders but the triumph was a short-lived one.
    The Government of the Dominion did not interfere, indeed, but the public,
    through their municipal authorities, did. The people of New Zealand have
    throughout their history been accustomed to manage their own affairs, and
    within four days of the declaration of war by the syndical Federation,
    steps were taken to meet the emergency. At Auckland and Wellington it had
    been evident from the first that the small police force available could
    not safely attempt to cope with the main body of strikers, or do more than
    prevent acts of aggressive violence to the citizens and their property.
    The local authorities, however, had confidence in the general public, and
    at Auckland, and afterwards at Wellington, the Mayor of the city appealed
    to the public to come forward as volunteers to maintain law and order, by
    acting as Special Constables. In both cities the appeal was responded to
    readily, nearly two thousand young men coming forward at Auckland in
    twenty-four hours, and upwards of a thousand at Wellington. These were at
    once sworn in as special constables, and armed with serviceable batons,
    while all the fire-arms and ammunition for sale in the city was taken
    charge of and withdrawn from sale by the municipal authorities. In this
    way the maintenance of order was fairly provided for, and the temporary
    closing of all licensed hotels by order of the city magistrates removed
    the danger of riot as the result of intemperance.

    There had been some rioting in Wellington, though with little serious
    injury, but there was nothing that could be called a riot in Auckland. The
    Federation Unions waited, under the impression that time was on their
    side, owing to the impossibility of doing anything or getting anything
    done without the help of the associated workers. This had been the basis
    of their scheme, but like all such schemes it failed to take into account
    the instinct of self-preservation on the part of the people outside the
    Unions. As long as the strike leaders could point to the fleet of vessels
    lying idle in the harbor, the mills silent, and the street railroads
    without a moving car, and almost deserted by carts, it was easy for them
    to persuade their followers that complete victory was only a matter of
    days, or at most of weeks; they had not remembered that there were others
    besides themselves and their fellow townsmen interested in the question of
    a paralyzed industry. The trade that has been making the people of New
    Zealand increasingly rich during the last twenty years has been mainly
    derived from the land. Small holdings and close settlement have been the
    rule, and the rate of production has been increasingly rapid. The
    exports--mainly the produce of the land--have grown in proportions quite
    unknown in any other country, and the farmers knew that the prosperity of
    the country, and most directly of all the workers on the land, depended on
    the freedom and facilities for shipment of their ports. It was the workers
    on the land, accordingly, that came to the rescue, and solved the
    industrial problem. An offer was made by the President of The Farmers'
    Cooperative Union to bring a sufficient number of the members into the
    cities to work the shipping and to prevent any interruption of the work by
    the men on strike. The offer was at once accepted by the municipal
    authorities at Auckland and Wellington, and within two days fully eighteen
    hundred mounted farmers rode into Auckland, and nearly a thousand into
    Wellington, all prepared to carry on the work and protect the workers.
    Their arrival practically settled the question. New Waterside Unions were
    formed at every port, and registered under the provisions of the
    Arbitration Statute; such of the country workers as were able to do so,
    enrolled themselves as members of the new Unions; the wharves and water
    fronts were taken possession of and guarded by the special constables
    enlisted in the cities, while the streets were patrolled by parties of the
    mounted volunteers. Within twenty-four hours of their arrival, some of the
    vessels in harbor had been brought to the wharves, and the work of
    unloading them was begun.

    At first there were many threats of violent opposition on the part of the
    strikers, and crowds assembled in the principal streets and in the
    neighborhood of the wharves; but these were dispersed before they became
    dangerous, by the mounted constables, and a proclamation having been
    issued by the mayor calling attention to the fact that collections of
    people that obstructed traffic in the streets were contrary to law, the
    police and mounted constables cleared the streets, and forcibly arrested
    any persons who attempted opposition. Within two or three days, at each of
    the principal cities, new Unions of seamen and of carters had been formed
    and registered under the arbitration law, and those members of the old
    Federation Unions who were not enthusiastic, and began to see that the
    assurances of success were not likely to be realized, began to resign and
    apply for admission to the new Unions. After about two weeks the Council
    of The Federation of Labor, recognizing the failure of the sympathetic
    strike, invited the Unions that were not connected with them to declare
    the strike at an end, and tried by confining the strike to their own
    members, to maintain a solid front, which, with the help of the Australian
    Federation both in money for the strikers and in refusing to handle any
    goods either from or for New Zealand, they still hoped would carry them to
    at least a compromise, if not to the victory they had expected. The hopes
    of the Federation of Labor were not realized. Within a week or two a large
    proportion of the members of their own Unions, seeing their places filled,
    and their work being done, not by free labor, which they might hope to
    deal with, but by new Unions, whose members would be entitled, under the
    arbitration law, to preference and many other privileges, began to desert
    and to seek admission to the Arbitration Unions that had taken their
    place. For a time this was fiercely denied by the Federation officials,
    but as the days went on, and business of every kind was resumed in the
    cities, the groups of strikers at street corners and around the Federation
    head-quarters dwindled away; the hotels were reopened, the shops and
    stores were busy, the mills were at work, and even the coastal steamers
    were manned and running, and the federationists were forced to admit that
    they were hopelessly defeated. For a time they still hoped that the
    Australian Boycott might save them from absolute disaster, and the Labor
    Ministry of New South Wales tried to help the Federation by making an
    appeal to the New Zealand Government to arrange an arbitration to settle
    the dispute between The Wellington Waterside Workers and the merchants and
    shipping companies. The absolute refusal of the New Zealand Government to
    recognize The Federation of Labor, or to interfere with the new Unions
    under the Arbitration Act that had taken their place, finally settled the
    question, and completed the defeat of the strikers. The officials of the
    Federation declared the strike at an end, and the Australian Federation
    announced that the boycott was also at an end.

    * * * * *

    At first sight it may seem that, after all, the experiment in syndicalism
    was on a small scale, and that its lesson can hardly be of great value to
    a country like America. A little consideration may correct such a
    misapprehension. New Zealand was deliberately selected by the Syndicalists
    as a test case, for two reasons. In the first place it was the only
    country that had for years adopted a policy of justice according to law
    for both workers and employers, and from the syndicalist's point of view
    it was therefore the only country that seriously attacked their own policy
    by showing that it was unnecessary. In the second place New Zealand was
    the only country with a population of British origin that could be dealt
    with practically by itself. With the aid of an Australian boycott it
    seemed as if her people must be helpless in the hands of the Federation.
    The result proved to be not only the defeat of the principle of lawless
    syndicalism, but the destruction of the industrial association that
    represented it in the country. No compromise was accepted, and except it
    may be in name, no Union attached to the Federation of Labor remains at
    work. The question, of course, suggests itself: What was the reason? Minor
    reasons may be found, no doubt, to account for failure where success was
    so confidently expected; but there can be little doubt that the real cause
    is the policy pursued by the Legislature and people of New Zealand for the
    last twenty years. Syndicalism, like all plans for the over turn, or
    reform, as their advocates would perhaps prefer to call it, of existing
    institutions, depends for success on the existence of wrongs by which part
    of the people is impoverished, while another, and very small part, has
    more than enough. The workers of our own race, at any rate, have enough
    common-sense to understand, at least when they are not hysterically
    excited, that imaginary wrongs are not a sufficient reason for great
    sacrifices. New Zealand's legislation has not created an ideal society, it
    is true; but for twenty years it has proceeded step by step in the
    direction of righting the wrongs of the past, and giving opportunity to
    that part of its people that needed it most, on the single condition that
    they would use it, and respect the rights of others. To such a people,
    increasing steadily, year by year, in all that makes for well-being, the
    wild denunciations, and if possible wilder promises, of paid agitators can
    have little attraction. It may be possible by careful generalship to stir
    a small section of such a people to the hysterical excitement of an
    industrial war, but the mass of the people would be certain to resent it,
    and the movement will be doomed to a speedy collapse.

    Other countries have been less enlightened and less fortunate than New
    Zealand in their legislation, and perhaps still less fortunate in the
    administration of the laws passed for the betterment of the masses of
    their people. They have done little to convince the great majority that
    they are aware of the wrongs that have been done that majority in the
    supposed interest of the small class of the over rich. They have not
    provided opportunity for those who hitherto have had none, nor have they
    even provided a reasonable alternative for industrial warfare. Had they
    done these things in the past, or were they even to begin honestly to
    provide for them in the future, they might confidently expect that the
    reign of industrial warfare, which exasperates their people, and retards
    the prosperity of their nation, would be as easily and effectually
    suppressed as the experiment of the Syndicalists has just been in New
    Zealand.

    LABOR: "TRUE DEMAND" AND IMMIGRANT SUPPLY

    A RESTATEMENT OF THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF IMMIGRATION POLICY

    Recent historians and economists have been showing that it was anything
    but pure and unadulterated sense of brotherhood that prompted many of our
    forefathers' fine speeches about opening the doors of America to the
    down-trodden and oppressed of Europe. Emerson, fifty years ago, in his
    essay on _Fate_ noted the current exploitation of the immigrant: "The
    German and Irish millions, like the Negro, have a great deal of guano in
    their destiny. They are ferried over the Atlantic, and carted over
    America, to ditch and to drudge, to make corn cheap, and then to lie down
    prematurely to make a spot of green grass on the prairie." Indeed it would
    not be hard to show that there was always a real or potential social
    surplus back of our national hospitality to the alien.

    The process began long before our great nineteenth century era of
    industrial expansion. Colonial policies with regard to the immigrant
    varied according to latitude and longitude. Most of the New England
    colonies viewed the foreigner with distrust as a menace to Puritan
    theocracy. New York, Pennsylvania, and some of the Southern colonies were
    much more hospitable, for economic reasons. That this hospitality
    sometimes resembled that of the spider to the fly is evident from
    observations of contemporary writers. That it included whites as well as
    negroes in its ambiguous welcome is equally evident.

    John Woolman writes in his _Journal_ (1741-2): "In a few months after I
    came here my master bought several Scotchmen as servants, from on board a
    vessel, and brought them to Mount Holly to sell." Isaac Weld, traveling in
    the United States in the last decade of the eighteenth century, noted
    methods of securing aliens in the town of York, Pennsylvania: "The
    inhabitants of this town as well as those of Lancaster and the adjoining
    country consist principally of Dutch and German immigrants and their
    descendants. Great numbers of these people emigrate to America every year
    and the importation of them forms a very considerable branch of commerce.
    They are for the most part brought from the Hanse towns and Rotterdam. The
    vessels sail thither from America laden with different kinds of produce
    and the masters of them on arriving there entice as many of these people
    on board as they can persuade to leave their native country, without
    demanding any money for their passages. When the vessel arrives in America
    an advertisement is put into the paper mentioning the different kinds of
    people on board whether smiths, tailors, carpenters, laborers, or the like
    and the people that are in want of such men flock down to the vessel.
    These poor Germans are then sold to the highest bidder and the captain of
    the vessel or the ship holder puts the money into his pocket."

    These may be, it is true, extreme cases of the economic motive for
    immigration. But they are quite in line with eighteenth century
    Mercantilist economic philosophy. Josiah Tucker, for example, in his
    _Essay on Trade_, 1753, urges the encouragement of immigration from
    France, and cites the value of Huguenot refugees. "Great was the outcry
    against them at their first coming. Poor England would be ruined!
    Foreigners encouraged! And our own people starving! This was the popular
    cry of the times. But the looms in Spittle-Fields, and the shops on
    Ludgate-Hill have at last sufficiently taught us another lesson ... these
    _Hugonots_ have ... partly got, and partly saved, in the space of fifty
    years, a balance in our favour of, at least, fifty millions sterling....
    And as England and France are rivals to each other, and competitors in
    almost all branches of commerce, every single manufacturer so coming over,
    would be our gain, and a double loss to France."

    The obverse side of the case appears in British hindrances to the free
    emigration of artisans during the eighteenth and early nineteenth
    centuries. Laws forbade any British subject who had been employed in the
    manufacture of wool, cotton, iron, brass, steel, or any other metal, of
    clocks, watches, etc., or who might come under the general denomination of
    artificer or manufacturer, to leave his own country for the purpose of
    residing in a foreign country out of the dominion of His Britannic
    Majesty. Recall the difficulty early American manufacturers encountered in
    introducing new English improvements in cotton manufacture; a virtual
    embargo was laid upon the migration of either men or machinery. Recall,
    too, an expression of American resentment in our Declaration of
    Independence at this English attitude: "He has endeavored to prevent the
    population of these states; for that purpose, obstructing the laws for
    naturalization of foreigners, refusing to pass others to encourage
    migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of
    lands."

    On the whole, the economic motive seems to have been uppermost in the
    minds of both those who fostered and those who opposed foreign immigration
    into the United States, up to, say, 1870. Likewise in perhaps more than
    ninety-nine of every hundred cases the economic motive holds in the mind
    of the present day immigrant, or his protagonist. Escape from political
    tyranny or religious persecution, at least since the revolutionary period
    of 1848, has operated only as a secondary motive. The industrial impulse
    is all the more striking in the so-called "new immigration" from the
    Mediterranean and South-Eastern Europe. The temporary migrant laborer, the
    "bird of passage," roams about seeking his fortunes in much the same
    spirit that certain Middle Age Knights or Crusades camp followers sought
    theirs. This is in no way to his discredit. It is simply a fact that we
    are to reckon with when called upon to work out a satisfactory immigration
    policy. At least its recognition would eliminate a good deal of wordy
    sentimentality from discussions of the immigration problem.

    Professor Fairchild discovered that three things attract the Greek
    immigrant. First and foremost, financial opportunities. Second, corollary
    to the first, citizenship papers which will enable him to return to
    Turkey, there to carry on business under the greater protection which such
    citizenship confers. There is a hint here to the effect that mere
    naturalization does not mean assimilation and permanent acceptance of the
    status and responsibilities of American citizenship. Third, enjoyment of
    certain more or less factitious "comforts of civilization."

    But the Greeks are by no means untypical. The conclusion of the
    Immigration Commission as to the causes of the new immigration is that
    while "social conditions affect the situation in some countries, the
    present immigration from Europe to the United States is in the largest
    measure due to economic causes. It should be stated, however, that
    emigration from Europe is not now an absolute economic necessity, and as a
    rule those who emigrate to the United States are impelled by a desire for
    betterment rather than by the necessity of escaping intolerable
    conditions. This fact should largely modify the natural incentive to treat
    the immigration movement from the standpoint of sentiment, and permit its
    consideration primarily as an economic problem. In other words, the
    economic and social welfare of the United States should now ordinarily be
    the determining factor in the immigration policy of the Government."

    This delimitation of the immigration problem to its economic aspects led
    the Immigration Commission to recommend a somewhat restrictionist policy.
    That they were not without warrant in so delimiting it is evident from the
    utterances of such ardent opponents of restriction as Dr. Peter Roberts
    and Max J. Kohler. The latter, writing in the _American Economic Review_
    (March, 1912) said: "In fact, the immigrant laborer is indispensable to
    our economic progress today, and we can rely upon no one else to build our
    houses, railroads and subways, and mine our ores for us." Dr. Roberts'
    plea is almost identical.

    What a glaring misconception of the whole economic and social problem is
    here involved will appear if we add a clause or two to Mr. Kohler's
    sentence. He should have said: "We can rely upon no one else to build our
    houses, railroads and subways, and mine our ores for us _at $455 a year;
    for workers of native birth but of foreign fathers would cost us $566, and
    native born White Americans $666 a year_." (See Abstracts of Rep. of
    Immigr. Comm. vol. i., pp. 405-8.) These are the facts. This is the social
    situation as it should be stated if a candid discussion of the problem is
    sought.

    Now what are the economic arguments for restricting somewhat the tide of
    immigration? Several studies of standards of living among American
    workingmen within the past ten years have shown that a large proportion of
    American wage earners fall below a minimum efficiency standard. Studies of
    American wages indicate that only a little over ten per cent of American
    wage earners receive enough to maintain an average family in full social
    efficiency. The average daily wage for the year ranges from $1.50 to $2.
    One-half of all American wage earners get less than $600 a year;
    three-quarters less than $750; only one-tenth more than $1,000.

    Take in connection with these wage figures the statistics for
    unemployment. The proportion of idleness to work ranges from one-third in
    mining industries to one-fifth in other industries. In Massachusetts,
    1908, manufacturers were unemployed twelve per cent of the working time.
    Professor Streightoff estimated three years ago that the average annual
    loss in this country through unemployment is 1,000,000 years of working
    time. Perhaps one-tenth of working time might be taken as a very
    conservative general average loss. But the worst feature of the whole
    problem is that, in certain industries at least, the tendency to seasonal
    unemployment is increasing. Ex-Commissioner Neill in his report on the
    Lawrence strike said: "... it is a fact that the tendency in many lines of
    industry, including textiles, is to become more and more seasonal and to
    build to meet maximum demands and competitive trade conditions more
    effectively. This necessarily brings it about that a large number of
    employés are required for the industry during its period of maximum
    activity who are accordingly of necessity left idle during the period of
    slackness." (Senate Document 870, 62d Cong., 2d sess., 1912.)

    If we recall still further that the casual laborer, who suffers most from
    seasonal unemployment, is the chief stumbling block in the way to a
    solution of the problem of poverty; that he furnishes the human power in
    "sweated trades:" that immigrants form the majority of unskilled and
    sweated laborers; if we remember that there is not a shred of evidence
    (except the well-meant enthusiasm of the protagonists of the immigrant) to
    show that immigration has "forced-up" the American laborer and his
    standard of living, instead of displacing him downward; if we remember
    that probably 10,000,000 of our people are in poverty, and that though the
    immigrant may not seek charity in any larger proportions than the poor of
    native stock, yet he does contribute heavily to our burden of relief for
    dependents and defectives: we are justified in assuming that an analysis
    of the causes of poverty confirms the evidence from studies of wages and
    standards of living as to the depressing effect of the new immigration, in
    particular, upon working conditions for the American laborer.

    Consider, too, the question of "social surplus." Several American
    economists, among them Professors Hollander, Patten and Devine, agree that
    we are creating annually in the United States a substantial social
    surplus. But it is evident from the figures of wages and standards of
    living quoted above that the American laborer is not participating as he
    might expect to participate in this economic advantage. Three factors
    conspire against him. First, we have yet no adequate machinery for
    determining exactly what the surplus is, or how to distribute it
    equitably. Mr. Babson with his "composite statistical charts" has made a
    beginning in the mathematical determination of prosperity; but it is only
    a beginning. Second, organized labor is not yet sufficiently organized nor
    sufficiently self-conscious to perceive and demand its opportunity for a
    larger share. The significant point here is that recent immigration has
    hampered and hindered the development of labor organizations, and thus
    indirectly held back the normal tendency of wages to rise. Third,
    inadequate education, particularly economic and social education. The
    adult illiterate constitutes a tremendous educational problem. Over 35 per
    cent of the "new immigration" of 1913 was illiterate, and this new
    immigration included over two-thirds of the total. Ignorance prevents the
    laborer from demanding the very education that would give him a better
    place in the economic system; it hinders the play of intelligent
    self-interest; and it actually prevents effective labor-organization,
    which is one of the surest means of labor-education. Jenks and Lauck,
    after experience with the Immigration Commission, concluded that "the fact
    that recent immigrants are usually of non-English speaking races, and
    their high degree of illiteracy, have made their absorption by the labor
    organizations very slow and expensive. In many cases, too, the conscious
    policy of the employers of mixing the races in different departments and
    divisions of labor, in order, by a diversity of tongues, to prevent
    concerted action on the part of employés, has made unionization of the
    immigrant almost impossible."

    For these reasons, and others, we are driven to the conclusion that future
    policies of immigration must be based on sound principles of social
    welfare and social economy, and not upon the economic advantage of certain
    special industries. Whether we want the brawn of the immigrant must be
    determined by what it will contribute to the general social surplus, and
    not by what it adds to A's railroads or B's iron mines.

    We are told that the three classes of our population demanding
    unrestricted immigration are large employers of unskilled labor,
    transportation companies, and revolutionary anarchists. Since this is by
    definition an economic and not a philosophical question, we may neglect
    the third class. To the other two classes should be directed certain brief
    tests of economic good faith. Take at its face value their claim that
    European brawn by the ship-load is indispensable to American industry. It
    is becoming an accepted maxim that industry should bear its own charges,
    should pay its own way. American industry has long fought the
    contract-labor exclusion feature in current immigration law. Suppose we
    frankly admit that it is much better for the immigrant to come over here
    to a definite job than to wander about for weeks after he arrives, a prey
    to immigrant banks, fake employment agents, and other sharks. Suppose,
    accordingly, we repeal the laws against contract-labor. Let the employer
    contract for as many foreign laborers as he likes or says he needs. But
    make the contractor liable for support and deportation costs if the
    laborers become public charges. Also require him to assume the cost of
    unemployment insurance. Exact a bond for the faithful performance of these
    terms, guaranteed in somewhat the same way that National Banks are
    safeguarded. Immigration authorities now commonly require a bond from the
    relatives of admitted aliens who seem likely to become public charges, but
    who are allowed to enter with the benefit of the doubt. Customs and
    revenue rules admit dutiable goods in bond. Hence the principle of the
    bond is perfectly familiar, and its application to contract-immigrants
    would be in no sense an untried or dangerous experiment. It would
    establish no new precedent: for precedents, and successful ones, are
    already established, accepted and approved. It would be understood that
    all admissions of aliens can be only provisional, with no time limit on
    deportation. It would be understood further--and the plan would work
    automatically if the contractor were made such a deeply interested
    party--that intending immigrants must be rigidly inspected, that they be
    required to produce consular certificates of clean police record, freedom
    from chronic disease, insanity, etc.

    The result of such a scheme would probably cut away entirely
    contract-labor; for it would not longer pay. But this does not mean
    barring the gate to all foreign labor. As an aid to the employer and to
    our own native workingman, we must, sooner or later, and the sooner the
    better, establish a chain of labor bureaus throughout the Union. The
    system must be placed under Federal direction, largely because the
    Department of Labor would be charged, _ex officio_, with ascertaining the
    "true demand" for immigrant labor, and it could only accomplish this end
    effectively through such an employment clearing system. This true demand
    would, of course, be based not only upon mere numerical excess of calls
    for labor over demands for jobs, but would also take into account the
    nature of the work, working conditions, and above all the prevailing level
    of wages. According to this true demand the Department would adjust a
    sliding scale of admissions of immigrant laborers.

    Much might be said in favor of an absolute embargo upon all immigration
    until such a body as the Industrial Relations Commission has time to make
    an authoritative economic survey of the whole country, or until the
    Unemployment Research Commission recently called for by Miss Kellor could
    make the three years' study contemplated by her as the only way out of the
    unemployment morass. Twenty years ago men of the type of General Walker
    frankly urged that the immigration gates be closed for a flat period of
    ten years or so. But the sliding scale plan contemplates no such radical
    step. Indeed it is radical in no sense whatever. The proposed immigration
    act now before Congress (The Burnett Bill, H.R. 6060) paves the way for
    it, and provides a working principle, which apparently is accepted on all
    sides. Section 3 includes this clause: "That skilled labor, if otherwise
    admissible, may be imported if labor of like kind unemployed can not be
    found in this country, and the question of the necessity of importing such
    skilled labor in any particular instance may be determined by the
    Secretary of Labor...." A really workable test for immigration, superior
    by far to the literacy test or any other so far suggested, might easily be
    developed by simply enlarging the scope of this clause, making it include
    unskilled as well as skilled labor. No machinery other than that
    contemplated by the present act would be required.

    The immigration problem can never be satisfactorily handled until we fix
    upon some such means of determining just what the economic need is. There
    is no danger of hindering legitimate industrial expansion in times of
    sudden business prosperity: for the transportation companies may be safely
    trusted to supply in three or four weeks aliens enough to fill all the
    gaps in the industrial army. Neither would injustice be done to the
    immigrant himself. On the contrary, he would be assured of a job and
    respectful consideration when he arrived. The "dago" or the "bohunk" would
    acquire a new dignity and a more enviable status than he now occupies. The
    selective process thus involved would much improve the quality of the
    immigrant admitted, and would incidentally render assimilation of the
    foreigner all the easier.

    The precise details of selection, and the machinery, are mere matters of
    detail. But the consular service, as long ago suggested by Catlin,
    Schuyler and others, seems to offer the proper base of operations. We have
    already recommended charging consuls with viséing certificates from
    police, medical, and poor-relief authorities. We should further require
    that declarations of intention to migrate be published (somewhat as
    marriage banns are published) at local administrative centers
    (arrondissement, Bezirk, etc.) and at United States consular offices; the
    consular declaration should be obligatory; perhaps the other might be
    optional, though in all probability foreign governments would coöperate in
    demanding it. These validated declarations of intention should be filed in
    the consular offices. When notice comes from the United States Department
    of Labor that so many laborers will be admitted from such and such
    district, the declarations are to be taken up in the order of their
    filing, and the proper number of persons certified for admission. The
    apportionment of admissions from each country might be calculated on a
    basis of its population, also upon the nature of the employment offered,
    and upon the desirability of the alien himself, his general
    assimilability, his willingness to become naturalized, to adopt the
    English language and the American standard of living among efficient
    workers, etc.,--all as proved by past experience with his countrymen. This
    plan, in so far as it provides for a sliding scale of admissions, is in
    line with that proposed by Professor Gulick. He advocates making all
    nations eligible for admission and citizenship, but would admit them only
    in proportion as they can be readily assimilated. This would admit
    annually, say, five per cent of those already naturalized, with their
    American children. The principle here seems to be that we can assimilate
    from any land in, and only in, proportion to the number already
    assimilated from that land. But the difficulty of applying such a test
    lies in the complexity of the assimilative process. No measure yet exists
    for assimilation. Anthropologists are convinced that various strains in
    the populations, for example of France, or Great Britain, which have been
    dwelling together for centuries, are not by any means assimilated. Mere
    naturalization is not a sufficient test of assimilation; it is only the
    expression of a desire to be assimilated; and it may only be a device for
    the promotion of business success here or in foreign parts, as we have
    already indicated in the case of the Greeks. Hence in working out the
    basis of a sound immigration policy, it would seem more practicable to
    consider first the question of economic utilization rather than
    assimilation. This, of course, does not exclude from the Secretary of
    Labor's judgment the category of assimilability as one of the factors in
    determining the apportionment of admissions.

    ]]>
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    The Unpopular Review, Number 19 https://blog.mabo.cc/the-unpopular-review-number-19/ https://blog.mabo.cc/the-unpopular-review-number-19/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:56 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/the-unpopular-review-number-19/

    The Unpopular Review, Number 19

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    The Unpopular Review

    SOME THINGS IN WHICH WE ARE TRYING TO DO OUR BIT

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    international police.

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    and on the other, of the Open Shop.

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    Our humble efforts for these causes have so far been not only gratuitous
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    UNPOPULAR REVIEW, and in the Casserole of No. 3.

    In order that the new writers may stand an equal chance with
    the old, and the old not unduly depend upon their reputations,
    the names of writers are not given until the number following
    the one in which their articles appear.

    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
    18 WEST 45th STREET
    NEW YORK CITY
    LONDON: WILLIAMS & NORGATE

    CONTENTS OF THE PRECEDING NUMBER (18, for April-June, 1918)

    WHY AMERICA LAGS, Alvin S. Johnson, Professor in Stanford
    University.
    ON GOING AFOOT, Charles S. Brooks.
    THE PROBLEM OF ALSACE-LORRAINE, C. D. Hazen, Professor in
    Columbia University.
    VISCOUNT MORLEY, Paul Elmer More, Advisory Editor of _The
    Nation_.
    THE ADVENTURE OF THE TRAINING CAMP, George R. MacMinn,
    Professor in University of California.
    HALF SOLES, Herbert Wilson Smith.
    PRICE FIXING BY GOVERNMENT, David McGregor Means.
    TURKEY UNDER GERMAN TUTELAGE, Rufus W. Lane.
    MACHINE AND MAN, Grant Showerman, Professor in University of
    Wisconsin.
    THE ATHLETIC HABIT OF MIND, Edward F. Hayward.
    ARBITERS OF FATE, Virginia Clippinger.
    FOOD CONSERVATION AND THE WOMAN, Mary Austin.
    SOME REFLECTIONS ON REVOLUTION, T. Lothrop Stoddard.
    THE JOB AND THE OUTSIDER, H. W. Boynton.
    DURCHALTEN! Vernon L. Kellogg, Professor in Stanford
    University.
    A NEW PSYCHIC SENSITIVE, The Editor.
    CORRESPONDENCE: "The Obscurity of Philosophers"--Our Tax
    Troubles Again.
    EN CASSEROLE: Concerning these Hasty War Marriages--Bergson
    and the Yellow Peril--A Problematic Personality--"Clause" and
    "Phrase."

    CONTENTS

    FOR JULY-SEPTEMBER, 1918

    NATURALIZATION IN THE SPOTLIGHT OF WAR 1
    WAR PROPHETS 19
    MY FRIEND THE JAY 33
    THE FLEMISH QUESTION 43
    IMMORTALITY IN LITERATURE 56
    CARLYLE AND KULTUR 66
    THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS 79
    THE CONDITIONS OF TOLERANCE 94
    THE NEO-PARNASSIANS 106
    HUMANISM AND DEMOCRACY 114
    THE MODERN MEDICINE MAN 127
    "THE PUREST OF HUMAN PLEASURES" 140
    WAR FOR EVOLUTION'S SAKE 146
    JOHN FISKE 160
    PLEASE EXPLAIN THESE DREAMS 190
    CORRESPONDENCE 201
    More Freedom from Hereditary Bias
    EN CASSEROLE 202
    If We are Late--The Kindly and Modest German--What the Cat
    Thinks of the Dog--A Hunting-Ground of Ignorance--Maximum
    Price-Fixing in Ancient Rome--Darwin on His Own
    Discoveries--Reflections of an Old-Maid Aunt--An Obscure
    Source of Education--Heart-to-Heart Advertising--The Curse of
    Fall Elections--Larrovitch--Our Index

    The Unpopular Review

    NO. 19 JULY-SEPTEMBER VOL. X

    NATURALIZATION IN THE SPOTLIGHT OF WAR

    Amid the manifold uncertainties into which the war has plunged us, one
    fact stands out with increased definiteness--that in our midst, and even
    voting on our policies, of life or death,--we have had for many years
    large numbers of people who at best give only a divided allegiance to
    this country, and at worst are devoted and violent partisans of some
    foreign state. The evidence of this truth has been of the most
    diversified character, including the destruction of warehouses, docks,
    and munitions factories, the burning of immense quantities of food, the
    manufacture of ineffective torpedoes, the attempted blowing up of war
    ships, and the dissemination of disease germs among children, soldiers,
    and cattle. The uniform object of all these activities has been the
    decrease of the war efficiency of the United States. The indications
    seem conclusive that the perpetrators have been, not special German
    spies or agents sent over here after our entry into the war or in
    anticipation of it, but among the candidates for Mr. Gerard's five
    thousand lampposts--persons who have lived in our midst for long
    periods, and have been accepted as belonging to us.

    So suddenly overwhelming has been the demonstration since the war began,
    and particularly since the United States entered the war, that there is
    great danger that the impression will become established that the war
    created the situation, that the danger is a war danger, and that the
    problem will automatically solve itself when the war is over. Nothing
    could be more prejudicial to a correct understanding of the situation,
    and to a sound solution of the national problems which will confront us
    when the war is over. The war has not created the danger from
    alien-hearted members of the body politic, it has merely revealed it.
    The situation is the creation of our traditional policy toward
    foreigners, and the menace inherent in the situation existed, and was
    discerned by many close students of political affairs, long before the
    war was dreamed of. Although then the manifestations of this danger were
    less spectacular, the danger itself was no less persistent, pervasive,
    and insidious. When Carl Petersen is triumphantly inducted into
    municipal office, not because he is a Republican or a Democrat, not
    because he stands thus and so on important public questions, but because
    he is a Swede; when Patrick O'Donnell is made detective sergeant, not
    because he has the highest qualifications of all the men available, but
    because he belongs to the same Irish lodge as the chief of police; when
    Salvini, and Goldberg, and Trcka receive political preferment or
    judicial favor because of the race from which they spring or the nation
    from which they come, the essence of the peril is exactly the same as
    when Hans Ahlberg tries to sink an American merchantman because its
    cargo of wheat is destined for England instead of Germany.

    The peril in question is the peril of having in a democracy large groups
    of voters actuated by racial and national affiliations other than those
    of the country in which they live: in other words, large elements of
    unassimilated foreigners. The assertion of this danger does not
    necessarily carry the implication of any inferiority, mental, physical,
    or moral, on the part of the foreigners. Difference without inferiority
    is dangerous, difference coupled with inferiority is definitely
    injurious. There is no need to reiterate the manifold evils which have
    already developed, and which threaten to develop, from immigration of
    the poor quality which our selective tests have not sufficed to prevent.
    Undoubtedly the physical and mental average of our people, possibly also
    the moral average, has already been definitely reduced, and the progress
    of the working classes toward a reasonably high standard of living has
    been checked, but the point which needs emphasis here is that difference
    in itself is dangerous. The immigrant who is still a foreigner in
    sympathy and character exerts a prejudicial influence upon the life of
    the nation at every point of contact. It is impossible for him to
    function as a normal unit in the social complex. If by naturalization he
    acquires the right to participate in political affairs, the opportunity
    for injury is multiplied. He cannot possibly approach public questions
    as if his allegiance were wholly with the country of his residence.
    These facts are particularly illustrated with us by the very large
    element known as "birds of passage." The only way these evils can be
    overcome is through genuine assimilation.

    Assimilation is a spiritual metamorphosis. It manifests itself in many
    changes of dress, of language, of manners, and of conduct. But these
    outward semblances are not assimilation. An alien is thoroughly
    assimilated into a new society only when he becomes completely imbued
    with its spiritual heritage. He must cease to think and feel and imagine
    in ways determined by his old social environment, and must respond to
    the stimuli of social contact in all ways exactly as if from the very
    beginning he had developed under the influence of his adopted society.
    And this involves, of course, the entire abandonment of any sympathy,
    affection, or loyalty different from that which might be felt by any
    native of his new home for the country of his origin or the people of
    that country. Complete assimilation so defined may seem impossible to
    the adult immigrant. This is almost universally the truth. The spiritual
    impress of the environment of one's infancy, childhood, and youth, can
    seldom be eradicated during the later years of life. Realizing this,
    those who hate to admit that our immigrants are not being assimilated,
    hasten to modify the definition. But this does not help the case,
    because it does not alter the situation.

    In this respect, the war has already rendered a distinct service to this
    country. No longer can we blind ourselves to the fact that national
    unity does not exist. Professor William Graham Sumner used often to
    remark that the United States had no just claim to the name of nation,
    because of the presence of the negroes within its borders. Whether that
    particular definition of "nation" is adopted or not, there can be no
    doubt that real national homogeneity is wholly lacking, and that the
    negro is by no means the only discordant element. In fact, in many ways
    the immigration problem is more imminent and menacing than the negro
    problem: for the negro problem is in a sense static, since it is not
    aggravated by continuous accessions from without. We know what the negro
    problem is, and can state it in terms which will be relatively
    permanent. But the immigration problem presents constantly changing
    aspects, not only because of its growing numerical proportions, but
    because of the diversity of its elements, and the uncertainty as to its
    future developments.

    One of the striking manifestations of this new recognition of our
    dangerous situation is the change of front of those who are opposed to
    the restriction of immigration. The stock answer to the warnings of the
    restrictionists used to be the assertion that assimilation was taking
    place with perfectly satisfactory rapidity and completeness. America was
    the great "melting-pot" of the nations, out of which was to flow--was,
    in fact, actually flowing--a new and better type of man, purged of all
    slag and dross. As conclusive proofs of this claim, were advanced all
    those superficial adaptations to new surroundings which the immigrant
    and his children make with so much display and gusto. The assimilating
    power of the American People was asserted to be unlimited, and if there
    were any hitches in the process, they could all be remedied by
    distribution. How suddenly has this elaborate erection of analogies,
    metaphors, and pseudo-arguments been shown up for the flimsy camouflage
    that it really was! Miss Grace Abbott, the avowed champion of the
    immigrant, is forced to admit that "unity of religion, unity of race,
    unity of ideals, do not exist in the United States. We are many
    nationalities scattered across a continent." Miss Frances Kellor writes
    a book on _Straight America_, in which she confesses the failure of
    assimilation in the past, and turns to universal military service as a
    last resort. Mrs. Mary Antin remains discreetly silent, and Mr. Isaac A.
    Hourwich is less in the public eye than formerly.

    * * * * *

    But even yet the opponents of restriction are not willing to submit to
    the logic of the situation, and instead of admitting the present need of
    true restriction, come forward with a new substitute. This substitute
    goes by the general name of "Americanization," and is urged upon us as
    the appropriate and adequate remedy for the ills which none can longer
    deny. The essence of this movement is that those who embody the true
    American ideas and ideals--a group seldom named or definitely described,
    but usually vaguely referred to as "we"--should bend all their energies
    toward the assimilation of our foreign population, and should seek by
    artificial and purposive expedients to accomplish that cultural
    transmutation for which the natural and unconscious relationships of the
    immigrant have proved wholly inadequate. And it must be freely granted
    that many of the specific proposals of the "Americanizers" are
    intrinsically meritorious and worthy of adoption. When it is suggested
    that our foreign populations ought to be better housed, fed, clothed,
    educated and amused, we all rise in assent--provided he will do his
    share toward it; yet in self-defence we must do more than ours. When we
    are urged to assist the immigrant to learn the English language and
    familiarize himself with the political history and government of this
    nation, our common sense gives ready response. The gross absurdity of
    the movement lies in the assumption that any or all of these things,
    good as they are, constitute assimilation, or will, in the natural
    course of their accomplishment, produce assimilation. Who will undertake
    to show that those persons of foreign birth who, in the last three and a
    half years, have most flagrantly violated their obligations to the
    country of their adoption, are on the whole less well educated, less
    familiar with the English language, less prosperous, or even less versed
    in American institutions, than those who have remained loyal at heart,
    or at least in conduct? By all means let us have as small a proportion
    of our people as possible who cannot read and write, who do not
    understand the English language, who treat their women according to the
    code of mediaeval semi-barbarism, and who are content with living
    conditions something lower than what we consider proper for domestic
    animals. But let us not imagine that those who have freed themselves
    from these anomalies are therefore true Americans.

    * * * * *

    However, the crowning insult offered to the intelligence of the American
    people by the Americanization movement is the soberly uttered and
    persistently reiterated proposition that the best way to cure the evils
    of a heterogeneous population is to naturalize the foreigners! In the
    voluminous literature issued by the group of organizations directly
    connected with this movement, the three injunctions to the foreigner
    which appear with the greatest frequency and emphasis are: "Attend night
    school," "Learn the English language," "Become an American citizen." As
    already stated, no fault can be found with the first two admonitions in
    themselves. But the third calls for close scrutiny, particularly as it
    involves a fundamental question which is sure to rise to prominence when
    the war is over. What benefits can be expected from our hasty
    naturalization of aliens? What is the effect upon the aliens and upon
    the country, of this urgent invitation to become citizens? Ought it to
    be made easier or harder to acquire citizenship?

    The first step in the answer to the foregoing questions is the
    examination of the real meaning of naturalization, and the process by
    which it is achieved in the United States. Naturalization is the act of
    conferring citizenship by a certain state upon a certain individual who
    hitherto has been a citizen or subject of another state. Citizenship
    implies rights and privileges, allegiance and obligations. The only
    difference that may be looked for in an individual after naturalization
    is that he now enjoys such rights and privileges, and owes such duties
    and obligations as appertain to State B instead of State A. The act of
    naturalization is not a developmental experience or process, but merely
    the registry of a change of status. Any transformations in the character
    of the individual which are regarded as essential to fitness for
    citizenship in State B should have taken place before naturalization.
    The act of naturalization will not produce them, nor is there adequate
    ground for assuming that they will generally follow that act. The only
    question which concerns the naturalizing official is whether the
    candidate is already affiliated at heart with the new country instead of
    the old, and the tests imposed upon the candidate are theoretically
    designed to determine or guarantee that affiliation. If, therefore, the
    foreigner was in any degree dangerous to his adopted country while an
    alien, there is no reason to suppose that he will be materially less so
    as a naturalized citizen. On the contrary, he is in a position to do
    much greater harm, because of the new powers and opportunities which
    naturalization confers, and because of the new confidence and trust
    which he enjoys through his citizenship.

    The harm thus done by naturalized but unassimilated citizens may be
    malicious and intentional or incidental. Many of the notorious election
    scandals of the past have been made possible by large numbers of
    foreigners who, having sought citizenship for narrowly selfish reasons,
    have used it in unscrupulous ways. It is true that they have frequently
    been abetted by native-born politicians; but the foreigners furnished
    the material. The injury done involuntarily, however, by
    well-intentioned voters who simply are not Americans, is even more
    serious because more extensive and more insidious. These are the men who
    have taken the oath of allegiance in all sincerity, supposing themselves
    to be as much in tune with the spirit of American life as the occasion
    called for. They have lived up to their lights as consistently, perhaps,
    as the majority of native-born voters of the same class. But their
    participation in public affairs has constantly been colored by racial or
    national affiliations, by a foreign outlook on life, and by incapacity
    to appreciate the true genius of the American nation. Their influence
    has therefore been to neutralize or thwart the efforts of conscientious
    intelligent Americans to grapple with national problems. An interesting
    case in point is the naturalized German referred to in "A Family Letter"
    in the December _Atlantic Monthly_, who refused to buy an inch of land
    in this country, in order that he might be free at any time to return to
    Germany. It has taken the emergency of a war to reveal to many
    naturalized citizens how mistaken they were (this at least is the most
    charitable interpretation) when they supposed that the old allegiance
    had been thoroughly subordinated.

    It is a most extraordinary inversion of logic, this mental process by
    which people persuade themselves that rushing our aliens through the
    naturalization courts will better our national situation. The line of
    argument seems to be something like this: A foreign resident of the
    United States who desires to participate fully in the life of the
    nation, and who is sincerely devoted to the best interests of the
    country, will wish to become a citizen; therefore, every naturalized
    citizen desires to participate fully in the life of the nation and is
    sincerely devoted to its best interests. Or perhaps a slightly less
    fantastic process of cerebration might be this: Naturalization is
    conferred upon foreigners who have fitted themselves to be received into
    citizenship; therefore, to accelerate the process of naturalization is
    to reduce the number of foreigners unfitted for citizenship.

    If our naturalization laws were so strict, and the courts which
    administer them so scrupulous, that no alien could acquire citizenship
    except upon a convincing demonstration of his assimilation, it would do
    less positive harm to urge aliens to become citizens, because they would
    know, or would in time learn, that to do so they must bring themselves
    into complete harmony with the spirit of the nation. It is therefore
    essential to examine the prescribed qualifications for naturalization,
    and see exactly what citizenship papers stand for.

    * * * * *

    The requirements are simply stated. The candidate must be a free white
    person, or a person of African nativity or African descent. He must be
    twenty-one years of age. He must have resided continuously five years in
    the United States, and one year in the State in which he makes
    application. He must have had his "first paper" at least two years, but
    not more than seven years. He must be of good moral character, must be
    attached to the principles of the Constitution of the United States, and
    must be able to speak English (unless registered under the Homestead
    Laws) and to sign his name. He must not be an anarchist or a polygamist.
    He must renounce any hereditary title or order of nobility, and all
    allegiance and fidelity to any foreign potentate, prince, city, or state
    of which he is a subject. He must affirm his intention to reside
    permanently in the United States, and must declare on oath that he will
    "support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States
    against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and bear true faith and
    allegiance to the same." He must have as witnesses two citizens of the
    United States who testify as to his residence in the United States, his
    moral character, his attachment to the Constitution, and his general
    fitness (in their opinion) to be admitted to citizenship.

    Now, assuming for the time being that the court officials apply the law
    with the utmost possible rigor, what is there in the foregoing list of
    requirements that guarantees that the newly made citizen is free from
    any lingering attachment to any other country, and ready to enter
    single-heartedly into the life of the nation, ready to share its burdens
    and the responsibility of grappling with its problems, in a way at all
    comparable to the native-born citizen?

    The qualifications in question fall into two groups: first, those which
    are matters of demonstrable fact, and second those which are mere
    asseverations of the candidate himself, or of his witnesses. Most
    important in the first category is the period of residence. With the aid
    of the records of the immigration bureau this fact can be definitely
    established. But what of it? What does a residence of five years mean as
    to assimilation? Under modern conditions almost nothing. This provision
    was written into the law over a century ago, after heated debate, and
    has never been changed, though in the middle of the nineteenth century
    it was subjected to vigorous attacks by powerful parties who wished the
    period raised to twenty-one years. In a simpler organization of society,
    there was some meaning in the five-year requirement. When communities
    were small, when foreigners were few, when the United States still
    preserved some of the character of mediaeval society, of which it has
    been said, "the essence ... was that, in every manor, every one knew
    everything about his neighbor," it was scarcely possible for an alien to
    reside five years in the country without becoming well known to a number
    of native citizens in his community, and establishing many points of
    contact with Americanizing influences. But in twentieth century America
    conditions are completely reversed. It is not only possible, but in
    innumerable cases the fact, that an alien may live, not only five nor
    twenty-one, but forty or fifty years in the midst of an American
    community without experiencing more than the most infinitesimal molding
    from a definitely American environment. In fact, the majority of recent
    immigrants do not really live in America at all, in anything more than a
    strictly geographical sense, but in communities almost as foreign as
    those from which they came. The mere physical fact of five years
    residence of itself signifies absolutely nothing as to the fitness of
    the alien to share in controlling the destiny of the nation. Let us
    therefore examine the other requirements in this group.

    The candidate must be twenty-one years of age. This is reasonable and
    desirable, but tells us nothing of the alien's fitness for citizenship.
    The period of at least two years intervening between the issue of the
    first and second papers was presumably designed to give opportunity for
    investigation of the candidate's fitness, but rarely serves that purpose
    now. There remain, then, three positive requirements of fact--race, and
    ability to speak English and to sign one's name. The general question of
    the greater desirability of one race over another, as material for
    American citizenship, is too involved to be adequately treated in this
    connection; clearly there is nothing here to indicate the fitness of the
    individual. This leaves just two tests of real assimilation, viz.,
    ability to speak English and to sign one's name. These are assuredly
    among the minimum requirements for citizenship, but they do not go very
    far.

    Turning then to the qualifications which rest upon the statements of the
    candidate and his witnesses, we find that he must be of good moral
    character, and not a polygamist nor an anarchist. Assuming that the
    truth is told, these requisites are beyond objection, but what do they
    tell us of the fitness of the alien for American citizenship? To
    renounce hereditary titles is a proper enough requirement, but one that
    throws no light upon the candidacy of the majority of modern immigrants.
    The statement of intention of permanent residence in this country is
    meant as a guarantee of the good purposes of the alien in becoming a
    citizen. But naturally this will be treated most lightly by those who
    need it most, and it is a question whether a foreigner whose motives are
    questionable is any more desirable in the country than out of it.
    Anyway, the destination of good intentions is proverbial. Finally, then,
    the alien must renounce all foreign allegiance and fidelity, and swear
    to his attachment to the principles of the Constitution of this country,
    and engage to support and defend it and the laws against all enemies.

    Remembering that, whatever may have been the efficacy of the provision
    about witnesses in the early stages of our history, it has degenerated
    into a sorry farce in modern times, when professional witnesses hang
    about the courts, ready to swear to anything for anybody, what does the
    whole naturalization procedure, as stipulated by law, amount to?
    Practically to nothing more than the statement by the alien himself that
    he wishes to transfer his allegiance from a foreign state to this, and
    the swearing of fidelity. We virtually offer citizenship freely to any
    alien who can meet certain arbitrary requirements as to residence, race,
    etc., and is willing to take the oath of allegiance. The one tangible
    thing is the oath, and the unreliability of the oath as a guarantee of
    undivided allegiance has been demonstrated over and over again in past
    decades, and most emphatically by the traitorous behavior of some of our
    naturalized citizens since 1914.

    In practice, officials may or may not add to the requirements of the law
    a brief examination designed to reveal the candidate's knowledge of the
    workings of the federal and state governments. But even at best, these
    questions and their appropriate answers occupy only half a dozen pages
    or so in a convenient little textbook, which assures the alien that if
    he "thoroughly familiarizes himself with the meaning of the questions
    and with the answers thereto, he will be sufficiently qualified to be
    admitted to citizenship," even though the order in which the questions
    are asked should be varied a little. To cram up on this examination
    could hardly occupy an intelligent high school boy a couple of hours.

    Since we thus offer citizenship almost for the asking to any white or
    African alien who has resided here five years, it follows that the
    issuance of naturalization papers does not guarantee any degree of
    assimilation, and to urge aliens to become naturalized is in no sense
    equivalent to urging them to fit themselves for the responsibilities of
    citizenship. There is accordingly absolutely nothing to be said in
    defense of the notion that urging naturalization upon our aliens will
    improve our domestic situation.

    * * * * *

    But what of the opposite side of the case? Are there any positive
    objections to the propaganda in question? The answer involves an
    analysis of the probable effects upon the alien of such vigorous
    encouragement, and the probable effects upon the United States of a
    large increase of naturalized citizens. The latter problem practically
    resolves itself into the query whether an unassimilated foreigner is
    less dangerous as citizen than as an alien. This has already been
    answered. Because of the added power, opportunity, and protection which
    the naturalized citizen enjoys, and because of the greater demands he
    may make upon the government, he is in a position to do much more harm,
    maliciously or otherwise, as a citizen than as an alien. It is true that
    federal naturalization does not give him the right to vote. The suffrage
    is a matter of states' rights. Most states require federal
    naturalization; some require additional qualifications, such as
    literacy, while about fifteen allow even unnaturalized aliens to vote.

    In the absence of guarantees to the contrary, it is quite possible, not
    only that the alien may not be fitted for citizenship, but that he may
    desire citizenship for unworthy or ulterior purposes. Until stopped by a
    recent law, it was a common practice for subjects of backward or
    despotic foreign countries to come to the United States, remain five
    years and take out their citizenship papers, with no intention of even
    remaining longer, but with the definite purpose of returning to their
    native land and there carrying on their various businesses in the
    enjoyment of the greater facilities and protection given by the American
    flag.

    Another common motive is to qualify for a better municipal or state job.
    Among the documents issued by the Americanizing agencies is a poster,
    bordered in red, white, and blue, and illustrated by a representation of
    Uncle Sam, his right hand clasping that of a sturdy immigrant, while his
    left points invitingly to the judge who is issuing naturalization
    papers. After the customary plea to become a citizen, the legend
    continues: "It means a better opportunity and a better home in America.
    It means a better job. It means a better chance for your children. It
    means a better America." (Why not add, "It means a chance to turn a few
    honest dollars on election day?") If these statements were true, the
    case would be bad enough, as, with the exception of the last, they
    appeal to a decidedly low motive for seeking citizenship. But they are
    not true. The newly made citizen in time finds out that they are not
    true, and then he feels cheated. When the better home and better job
    fail to materialize, any budding sense of obligation to his new country
    receives a sad shock.

    Urging citizenship upon the alien must inevitably produce an attitude of
    mind exactly the opposite from that which would make him a useful
    citizen. That which comes easily is lightly regarded, and that which is
    presented in such a way that the taking of it appears a favor, is not
    looked upon with great reverence or respect. In this respect much of the
    literature of the Americanization movement is most pernicious. Moreover
    the emphasis is all on the personal advantages of citizenship, not at
    all on its duties or responsibilities.

    In this particular our forefathers were much wiser than we. They
    recognized that American citizenship was a thing of great value, to be
    regarded as a boon, procurable only by earnest endeavor and true merit.
    They could not have comprehended how the liberties for which the
    Revolutionary heroes fought and bled could ever be so degraded as to be
    hawked about the market place. We would do well to follow their example.
    We esteem the United States most highly of all nations. We believe that
    it owes a peculiar debt to posterity, that those entrusted with its
    career should be imbued with the most profound respect for it, the
    deepest sense of their responsibility to it, and the most thorough
    equipment for the adequate performance of their duties with respect to
    it. To participate in the control of the destiny of this great democracy
    is an undertaking of the gravest sort; and five years residence and the
    other requirements of the naturalization law are no more a fit
    preparation for it than five years of service in the office of a
    corporation and familiarity with the office routine fit the office boy
    to become a director.

    Any propaganda directed toward our aliens should therefore take the form
    of urging, even to the point of insistence, that they _fit themselves_
    for citizenship. This will make them more useful and less troublesome
    residents, whether they are eventually naturalized or not. But
    citizenship itself should be held aloft, portrayed to them as a
    priceless boon, to be won only as a reward of long and patient effort,
    and a complete demonstration of their fitness. If this results in
    discouraging some foreigners from coming to this country, no harm will
    be done. If it results in increasing the proportion of residents who do
    not share in the government, and if this is in itself an evil, the
    remedy is to be applied at the ports of entry, and not in the
    naturalization courts.

    It is emphatically true that changes in our naturalization procedure are
    needed. But they should be in the direction of greater strictness, not
    of greater laxity. It is not the purpose of this paper to discuss in
    detail what these changes should be, but to emphasize the necessity that
    in general the requirements should be more inclusive, more positive,
    more significant of the assimilation and fitness of the candidate, more
    determinative of his good intentions in presenting his petition. One
    change that is certainly called for is the modification of state laws,
    by federal coercion if necessary, so as to make it impossible for aliens
    to vote. As social organization becomes more complex, the influence of
    government upon the life of the individual becomes more extensive, more
    intimate, and more vital; and as the sphere of government expands, the
    responsibilities of the electorate become heavier and more intricate.
    When peace is restored, and the period of reconstruction commences, the
    demands upon the intelligence, fidelity, and conscience of the voter
    will be vastly greater than ever before in the world's history. It is
    essential to the maintenance of democracy and the progress of humanity
    that the United States face this critical period with the most efficient
    and harmonious electorate possible.

    Does emphasis upon national homogeneity and solidarity seem too
    reactionary in this crisis of the world's history? Does it appear that
    laying stress on the differentiation of nationalities within our borders
    will prevent the United States from playing its appropriate part in the
    coming period of reconstruction, which, we are told, must involve
    recognition of the principle of internationality? A moment's thought
    will make it clear that this position is a mistaken one when the war is
    over. Nations will still exist, nor will they pass out of existence with
    the progress of any revolutionary international adjustments that may be
    made. Whatever action is taken in the direction of a world federation
    must be made by self-conscious units, and must rest upon the basis of
    well-knit nations. The recent unusually sound and suggestive piece of
    sociological thinking, _Community_, by Mr. R. M. Maciver, contains a
    most timely chapter on "Co-ordination of Community." In the course of
    his study of the way the principle of association and common action is
    extended, the author observes:

    Whether the ideal of nationality grows stronger or weaker in
    the future, the fact of nationality ... will always remain....
    Understanding the service and limits of nationality, we are
    now in a position to consider how nations both are and can be
    co-ordinated within the wider community which they build. Such
    co-ordination can be directly achieved only through the State,
    which is the primary association corresponding to the
    nation.... It is true that the limits of nations and States
    are still far from being coincident, but the great historical
    movements have been leading towards that ideal. In any case it
    must be the co-operation of States, whether they do or do not
    coincide with nations, which will bring order into the still
    existing chaos of the nations.

    In the period following the war, the necessity will be greater than ever
    before that the government of the United States shall be able to deal
    with intricate and far reaching problems with intelligence, unity,
    harmony, and force. This can be done only through an electorate that is
    intelligent, homogeneous, sympathetic, and free from divisions into
    antagonistic or incongruous groups.

    An extreme but significant illustration of this principle is furnished
    by the present situation in Russia. If a general truce were declared
    tomorrow, and the nations sought to get together to discuss a permanent
    basis of settlement, one of the greatest obstacles in the way of success
    would be Russia, simply for the reason that at present there is no
    Russia in the sense that a nation must exist to participate in such a
    council as that supposed. There is no danger that the United States will
    fall into any such state of disruption as Russia. But there is a
    distinct danger that it may suffer from a lesser degree of the same
    malady, the existence of discordant elements in the body politic, and
    consequent inability to exert her maximum force in attacking the
    problems of reconstruction.

    The period following the war will be a time for new things. Easier than
    ever before will it be to shake off the trammels of tradition and
    precedent, and inaugurate approved though novel political policies.
    Foremost among the matters which the United States will be called upon
    to see to will be the reconsideration of our entire attitude toward
    aliens, and their naturalization. The time to prepare for that
    reconsideration is now.

    WAR PROPHETS

    The war is generating prophets as the Nile generated frogs under the
    mandate of Moses, and there is a similarity in the speech of both
    products. The prophets are too cautious to risk their reputation in
    predicting the events of the war; their forecasts relate to the sort of
    a world we shall find ourselves in after peace returns. But even this
    measure of prediction is a by-product of the soothsayers who, whether
    their lips have been touched with a coal from off the altar, or not,
    certainly wield the pen of the ready writer. The main industry of the
    busy prophets is to expound to us the meaning of the war, and to
    disclose to us those causes of the war which we should never have
    discovered for ourselves.

    The ordinary uninspired man feels when he has read the diplomatic
    correspondence of a couple of weeks at the end of July and the beginning
    of August, 1914, that he knows fairly well what were the immediate
    causes of the war, and where the responsibility lies. If he carries his
    reading back as far as the annexation of Bosnia in 1908, he is satisfied
    that he has a pretty comprehensive view of the forces that precipitated
    the war. And if he has read pretty abundant selections from the
    Pan-German literature and the panegyrics on war--such a literature as no
    branch of the human race, Christian or pagan, ever produced before--he
    thinks he understands how it was possible to plunge the German nation
    into this attack on the world.

    But all this is merely a matter of reading and reflection. Any one can
    reach such conclusions. The prophet must reach some different conclusion
    in order to sustain his claim to inspiration:

    If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,
    Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young man must be.

    The prophet has got to attribute the war to causes that would not have
    occurred to the common mortal, and see in it meanings that ordinary eyes
    cannot trace, or abdicate his tripod.

    It is equally unreasonable and equally immoral to say that the war
    proves that Christianity is a failure, and to say that it proves
    Christianity has never been tried. Because if either of these hypotheses
    be correct, one set of belligerents is as deep in the mud as the other
    is in the mire, and there is no personal culpability for this war, and
    no national culpability either. We are all guilty of not being
    Christians, or all unfortunate in having grown up in ignorance of
    revelation, and beyond that there is no blame for the war.

    If this war is not the result of certain perfectly well known
    individuals using their own nations for an attack on others, but is the
    result of impersonal enmity between Teuton and Slav, then no person or
    persons are responsible for the war, there is no more blame on one side
    than there is on the other, and the moral element is as lacking as it is
    in an encounter between the inhabitants of the jungle. It is a curious
    thing that the prophet assumes the role of a moral censor, and devotes
    much the greater part of his energies to confusing the moral issues, to
    obliterating moral distinctions, and to blunting the ethical sense.

    To condemn all war, which is a congenial theme for a moralist, is rank
    immorality; for it puts the nation that attacks, and the nation that
    repels the invader, in the same category, and refuses to make any
    distinction between the burglar, the householder who resists him, and
    the policeman who overpowers him and drags him away to jail.

    The prophet readily drops his eye on armies, and at once announces that
    it is their existence that accounts for the war. If there were no armies
    there would possibly be no wars, but we have shown more than once that
    armies can be pretty rapidly extemporized. Besides, this, too, confuses
    the moral issues. All nations have armies, and if America and England
    had relatively small armies before this war, they had the largest navy
    in the world and the navy which ranked second or third. The highwayman
    carries a pistol, and so does the paymaster who is obliged to transport
    a treasure chest. If the possession of a revolver was the cause of the
    homicide that occurred, the guilt lies equally on the souls of both.

    We are told that no truth is more certain than that "if you create a
    vast fighting machine it will sooner or later compel you to fight,
    whether you want to fight or not"--which is about as dubious a truth as
    was ever paraded as an axiom--that "these vast machines, whether armies
    or engines of war, are made to be used," and that "the military machine
    will overpower the minds which have called it into being." Then their
    responsibility is not for the ensuing war, but for carelessness in
    leaving a war weapon around. But if these vast military machines were
    made to be used, then why complicate the question of responsibility by
    representing the machine as overpowering its careless but really
    peaceful creator, and compelling him to fight whether he wants to fight
    or not?

    If the Kaiser and the Crown Prince and the General Staff and the
    military caste and the Pan-German element created the army to use
    against other nations, in accordance with Bernhardi's alternative of
    "world domination or decline," and if all the professors and preachers
    and pamphleteers had taught the people that war was a high, holy, and
    beautiful thing, and--more particularly--that Germany could beat any
    other nation in a few weeks, and the armies would return loaded down
    with spoils and indemnities and title deeds to new provinces, and that
    "our good old German God" had specially deputized the German nation to
    overpower all the rest of the world, make German the universal tongue,
    and the primitive moral code of Germany the ethical law of the world,
    then we know precisely who is guilty of this war. But if the German army
    compelled the German Government to back Austria in an attack on Servia,
    and on its own account to invade Russia, Belgium and France, we are very
    much at sea about the place where the moral burden is to be laid.

    * * * * *

    The prophet is particularly prone to find the causes of the war in a
    material civilization, in our existing industrial system, and especially
    in greed. The prophet and the political orator are equally stern in
    their denunciation of greed. At a time when prophets were so accustomed
    to physical exercise that they could run ahead of Ahab's chariot, and in
    the absence of normal sources of supply, were fed by the ravens, their
    indignation at greed, their contempt for commerce, and their superiority
    to a material civilization, was free from incongruity. The modern
    prophet does not live on locusts and wild honey, nor is his wardrobe
    limited to a belt of camel's hair. His uncompromising denunciation of
    his age is somewhat impaired by the obvious fact that he has "some of
    the pork."

    The deliverances of the prophet on this class of themes are rather
    tiresome in their iteration, and distinctly irritating in their oblivion
    to history. There is no civilization that does not rest upon the
    possession and acquisition of property; there is no clime or time in
    which men have not worked for their living, and sought the means of
    buying the things which their tastes, coarse or refined, craved, in
    which there have not been rich and poor, and in which it has not been
    much pleasanter to be the former than the latter. The earliest social
    satirist, like the latest, berated the accursed greed for gold, and
    castigated his contemporaries for their love of luxury and their eager
    pursuit of money. It would seem as if the prophet might recognize that
    it is a very old sermon he is preaching, and familiarize himself with
    the extraordinary age of those evils of his own day which he feels it
    his mission to chastise.

    What distinguishes this age from others, and our own country from others
    is that here and now wealth is acquired more easily and more rapidly
    than at other times and places. This being the very obvious fact, it
    shakes our confidence in the whole fraternity of prophets that they
    should, one and all, attribute the larger fortunes made here and now to
    the greater love of money, or its more assiduous pursuit. The rich man
    is more successful in amassing wealth than the poor man, but he is not
    more mercenary. Two men try equally hard to get rich; one succeeds, and
    the other fails; the man who failed is quite likely to be more eager for
    money than the man who succeeded.

    The industrial system never meets the approval of the prophet. An
    occasional prediction is that the war will destroy our deplorable
    economic life, in which every man is trying to get as high wages or as
    large a salary or as ample profits as possible, and will usher in the
    golden age, in which such base considerations as pecuniary compensation
    will have a very secondary place in every man's mind. Before this war
    came, the most eminent educator in America assured the workingman that
    he ought to work for the pleasure of it, and not for the contents of his
    Saturday night envelope. Such admonitions have occurred, in one form or
    another, in the literature of the sages, for centuries and millenniums.
    But it was never evolved by a man who was digging postholes, and a noble
    ambition to mine the very best coal cannot carry a miner far when he is
    obliged to cut such coal as there is in front of him.

    It is barely possible that by devoting some weeks to the task, a man
    could produce a pair of shoes notably superior to the ordinary run of
    shoes, and his professional pride as a devout follower of St. Crispin
    might take keen delight in the work of his hands; in the fact that he
    had made the very finest pair of shoes in the world. But, after all, he
    needs food, and possibly he is obliged to pay rent, and he ought to have
    a wife to make comfortable, and children to send to school in
    presentable form: so something besides pride in his work is necessary.
    If he is to be adequately compensated for his labor on that pair of
    shoes, their price will be such that only the rich--if the rich are to
    be permitted to survive--can buy them; and if such shoemakers prevail,
    the greater part of mankind will go barefoot. For does not the prophet
    who has poured out the phials of his wrath upon an economic system that
    makes quantity and cheapness, instead of real excellence, its ideals,
    recognize that the purpose of quantity is to supply the wants of a
    greater number of human beings, and the purpose of cheapness is to
    enable human beings to supply more of their needs? For certainly if the
    shoes which are the very best shoes in the whole world, and whose
    excellence affords the keenest satisfaction to the soul of the
    shoemaker, cost $50, then it is quite certain that the customer who
    carries them home will go without many other things that he ought to
    have. If the shoes are made by machinery and sold for $3, they may not
    be quite so beautiful or durable as the artistic product of hand labor,
    regardless of time, and yet be in the interest of the customer and the
    community.

    After the prophet has got through with his ravings at the present
    industrial system, the fact will remain that there are a good many
    millions of us on this earth, and that we have got to earn our livings,
    and that the agriculture and industries of the Middle Ages would not
    keep all of us alive. In addition to which, we may also venture to
    suggest that the people of the Middle Ages were not quite as honest as
    we are, and were not less particular about getting a financial return
    for their exertions. The modern industrial system was not created by
    capital for capitalists; it is the result of the efforts of the
    community as a whole to supply the needs of all of its members, and to
    afford employment to all of them. Hunting and fishing are pleasanter
    than most of the industries, but 100,000,000 of civilized people are
    living and are equipped with intellectual and moral accessories, where a
    quarter of a million Indians once roamed. And although they toiled not
    (systematically), neither did they spin (much), they were not happier or
    better than we are.

    One prophet of more discrimination than most of his clan admits that the
    industry and thrift which produce capital are valuable qualities
    morally, but he is still confident that the great wealth of the modern
    world is thoroughly demoralizing. Whence it appears that the safe course
    for the world to pursue is to work hard and save carefully and burn up
    its accumulations every year in order to keep itself poor but pious,
    like the parents of the subjects of a style of religious biography now
    quite out of date. Of course this prophet would prefer the wiser course
    of not earning enough to afford wealth to accumulate. If we would only
    adopt his system and work for the pleasure of working, and for the
    satisfaction of producing absolutely perfect products of our own skill,
    there would be no danger of our sinking our souls into perdition with a
    load of gold. Noah and his sons appear to have built the Ark by the
    processes of domestic industry, in distinction from the accursed factory
    or capitalist system. How their support was provided for during the 120
    years has not been recorded, but if one man undertook to build a
    locomotive, instead of merely making repetitions of a single part, it
    would be necessary to make arrangement for this. And when we are trying
    to replace the vessels destroyed by German submarines, it seems
    necessary to use more rapid methods of construction than sufficed before
    the Deluge.

    Will some prophet please tell us how poor we must be in order to be
    virtuous and pacific, and how virtuous and pacific the world was before
    it became prosperous? Were there no wars before the Twentieth Century?
    The extent of this war is scarcely a result of the world's opulence,
    when Sir Edward, now Viscount, Grey, offered to keep England out of it
    if Germany would limit the war to the Balkans or to Russia. The war has
    involved most of the world because Germany began it by attacking France
    and Belgium, and followed that up by attacking Americans on the high
    seas, where they had as much right to be as at home.

    This argument that the war is the result of wealth is immoral, because
    it makes the guilt of America and England even greater than that of
    Germany (for they are richer); and because it is the argument of the
    communist--that theft is not wrong, because it is the inevitable
    consequence of private property: if no one has any right to anything,
    then no one will steal anything.

    * * * * *

    Nothing holds the attention of the prophet better than the idea that the
    war is the result of commercial competition. This also is an invention
    of the devil to exculpate Germany. All of us are in business for gain;
    we are actuated by greed; we are making cotton cloth to cover Africans
    for the profit that we can get out of it; we ought to think only of
    clothing the naked, and if we would only give the cotton cloth to the
    Hottentots without material return, we should have the proud
    satisfaction of seeing them draped in chintzes, and we should be safe
    from that wealth which is so certain to make us wicked. On those terms
    there would be very little competition in supplying the Hottentots, and
    no danger whatever that any nation would fight us to gain that portion
    of the export trade.

    But the "peaceful penetration" of all other countries by German industry
    and commerce had been going on for thirty years before the war. England
    had stamped "Made in Germany" upon the imports from that country under
    the delusion that people would not buy them if they knew they were not
    made by domestic industry, but the only result was to advertise German
    business. Shipping interests at Antwerp, factories in France, hotels in
    Switzerland, iron works in Italy, commercial establishments in China and
    South America, the trade and transportation of Turkey, passed into
    German hands, and no nation offered armed resistance. No less a witness
    than Prince von Buelow testifies that England could easily have stopped
    German naval expansion, but did not do so. German commercial expansion
    did not cause the war, unless Great Britain, the principal sufferer from
    German business success, attacked Germany in 1914. And this is the
    German official explanation of the war supplied for domestic
    consumption. And yet it is repudiated by the highest witness who could
    be put upon the stand. No less a person than Prince Lichnowsky, who was
    German Ambassador in London at the outbreak of the war, traces the war
    to Austrian projects in the Balkans, with the "blank check" of Germany,
    together with irritation in Russia caused by Germany's own efforts to
    establish a dominating influence in Constantinople. This leaves nothing
    of the story invented for the German people, and propagated by the
    university professors, that England attacked Germany because the latter
    was getting its trade away from it. And this falsehood, invented to
    shield the guilty nation, has a special fascination for the prophets. It
    looks so much like taking a broad and general and impartial view of the
    world. Satan is very liberal; it pains him to have guilt attached to any
    individual. It is more in accord with his philosophic and humane ideas
    to regard crime as a product of social conditions, and war as the result
    of trade competition.

    * * * * *

    But the guilt of Germany is betrayed by the selection by Germans of Sir
    Edward Grey as the especial subject of hatred among all the hated
    British race. Nothing but the consciousness of guilt can explain the
    extraordinary vituperation of the British Minister who did in 1914
    precisely what he was highly praised for doing in 1913 in a speech in
    the Reichstag by Chancellor von Bethmann-Hollweg. That was the speech
    calling on the Reichstag for an increase of about 136,000 men in the
    German army, an addition of $50,000,000 a year to the military budget,
    and a non-recurring capital tax for military purposes of $250,000,000.
    The difference between 1913 and 1914 was not in anything that Sir Edward
    did, but in the fact that before the army increase of 1913 Germany was
    not prepared for war and supported Sir Edward's efforts for peace. After
    that increase Germany was prepared for war, and would do nothing to
    support Sir Edward's efforts to avert war, and the coarse abuse of Sir
    Edward is a "smoke box" designed to conceal the changed position of
    Germany.

    Dr. von Jagow, Foreign Minister from 1913 to 1916, has been put forward
    to reply to Prince Lichnowsky, but agrees with the Prince that England
    did not desire war, and that Sir Edward Grey, who is described by a
    German divine as having "a cancerous tumor in place of a heart," acted
    in good faith in his efforts to find a peaceful solution for the
    difficulty. One American writer finds the origin of the war in the rival
    interests of Germany and England in the Bagdad Railway, but Dr. Paul
    Rohrbach, now or recently of the German Colonial Office, has admitted
    that just before the war opened the interests of the two nations were
    settled by a treaty, in which England made surprisingly large
    concessions. This is also stated by Prince Lichnowsky. So that the
    testimony of three particularly eminent Germans destroys the fiction
    that England attacked Germany because it was jealous of German
    commercial expansion.

    The fundamental trouble with the whole race of war prophets is that they
    think the war is a new thing, and they feel called upon to tell the rest
    of us what to make of it. War is about the oldest human industry. This
    is the greatest of all wars, but that does not alter the meaning of war.
    Nor does it necessarily alter the results of war. While it is the
    greatest of all wars, it is not yet a long war, and in proportion to the
    population it is not certain that it is greater than other wars. It is
    not even certain that in proportion to the men involved, it is more
    bloody than other wars. We have no means of getting at the figures
    except in the loosest way, because the several Governments do not tell
    how many men they have at any given time or place, or the casualties in
    any individual engagements. But some approximations have been made, and
    they do not indicate that the great war is decidedly more bloody, in
    proportion to the armies, than other wars have been. Our Civil War
    lasted full four years; the War of Independence occupied seven. Before
    that was the seven years of the French and Indian war, and one war is
    known as the Thirty Years War. From the beginning of the French
    Revolution to Waterloo was more than quarter of a century, and at the
    end of that period another Bourbon was on the throne of France. Our
    Civil War made nearly, if not quite, as heavy a draft upon the
    population as the present war has made upon the population of England or
    France.

    The moral and religious questions involved in war are not notably
    different in the greatest of all wars and in wars which are not quite so
    great. Most of them are involved in the ordinary administration of the
    criminal law by which an orderly community protects itself from its
    predatory members. Doubtless there will be social and political results
    from this war, but if other wars have not created a new heaven and a new
    earth, why should this one? The prediction that this war will produce
    great changes in the direction of democracy and of applied religion are
    probably well founded. But the war will act only as an accelerator.
    These changes have been going on for a long time; the movements for
    fifteen or twenty years before the war opened were very evident. Woman
    suffrage and prohibition seem impending, but they are not the products
    of this war: they had made great progress between 1900 and 1914.

    None of the prophets betray any knowledge of history, or see things in
    any perspective. The great war is the first great cataclysm that they
    seem to be aware of, and they are rushing to and fro, like the
    Chaldeans, to find explanations of it, and to impress the public by
    their ability to forecast its consequences.

    But when peace comes it will leave us face to face with greed and
    materialism, and an industrial system in which some men prosper and
    others do not, and an obligation to labor from which no important
    fraction of mankind can escape, and wants will multiply as fast as the
    means of satisfying them increase, and for the greater part of us the
    weekly pay envelope and the possibilities of a competence, and the
    demand from the other side of the world for the grain we produce, will
    continue to be our principal incentives to work.

    Progress, intellectual and moral as well as material, has been made in
    the past, but the world has not taken great leaps ahead as the result of
    great wars, and still less has it changed the direction of its movement
    as the result of wars. The one thing of which the vastness of this war
    gives us a fairly good assurance, is that no nation will again be
    trained from infancy to old age to regard war as a high, holy and
    beautiful process of attaining its manifest destiny to rule the rest of
    mankind. For generations no statesman will purpose a war, and no monarch
    will again have the power of hurling his people at neighboring nations.
    If Germany fails in its present effort, neither Germany nor any other
    nation will repeat the experiment of 1914.

    But the prophets will have no chance to point with pride to the great
    religious, moral and economic revolutions whose advent they pointed out
    amid the clash of arms. We have found our soul, the prophets love to
    tell us. They disagree on some things, and those who have no revelation
    upbraid the others for not giving us a spiritual interpretation and
    getting a vision of the future from the carnage of the war, as the
    augurs pretended to see the future when they were only looking at the
    viscera of their victims. But all of them agree that we have found our
    soul. When did we lose our soul? When Mr. Roosevelt was President he was
    very apprehensive that we had lost our "fighting edge." Is any one
    worried now about our lack of a "fighting edge?" Possibly our soul was
    never lost. We betrayed some evidences of possessing a soul very early
    in the war.

    The charge that we had lost our soul, or, at least, had mislaid it,
    rests on two facts. One is that we are prosperous. That fatal
    alliteration of poverty and piety has a fearful hold upon the soul of
    the prophet. The other is that we did not go to the rescue of Belgium
    when it was invaded. But Mr. Roosevelt himself did not realize that we
    ought to have gone to the rescue of Belgium, till March, 1916. He is on
    record in September, 1914, as satisfied with the course of the
    Administration, and convinced that we should not have entered the war
    when our own interests were not touched. And it ought to be forgiven a
    statesman, if he is very reluctant to plunge his country into war, and
    declines to put his Government in the position of a knight errant,
    wandering around the world in search of maidens to be delivered from
    donjons. And furthermore, as the Monroe Doctrine is the corner stone of
    our foreign policy, we were properly slow about intruding into a
    European quarrel, until it became unmistakable that it was much more
    than a European quarrel--that it was an attack upon civilization and
    popular Government. We were also justified in assuming that Great
    Britain, France and Russia, three of the five guarantors of Belgian
    neutrality, were capable of punishing the two guarantors who violated
    their pledge, several times renewed by Germany, even up to the day
    before Germany invaded the country it had pledged its honor to protect.

    But our soul, whether it was lost or not, is now in our possession. Let
    us be thankful that the prophets recognize that encouraging fact. And if
    our mind is also in our possession, we may look forward to a world not
    entirely different from the one we have known, but unquestionably less
    likely to play with firearms, and quite certainly one in which the
    common people will have much greater control of their political
    destinies, and one in which no War Lord, with chatter about shining
    swords and shining armor and mailed fists, will be able to hurl his
    nation against the others in a desperate effort to establish for himself
    an overlordship of the world. Nor will any nation ever be likely to
    rhapsodize over carnage, and feed its sordid soul with thoughts of the
    territories and indemnities to be got by war, or intoxicate itself with
    the delusion that it is a race of supermen charged by the Almighty with
    the duty of forcing its harsh language and its brutal habits upon all
    other nations.

    MY FRIEND THE JAY

    "Every man who comes into the world has need of friends." What Ursa
    Major thus profoundly observes of mankind, from China to Peru, might be
    applied with special force to the blue jay, at least to those jays that
    come into the world. Of the rest "deponent saith not." For by common
    consent the blue jay is a rascal, nay even a villain; and to deepen his
    turpitude to an infinity of wickedness, I have heard one uncherished
    female with a disposition slightly acid liken him to a Man. Indeed, were
    some of his detractors to be believed, there is scarcely a crime in the
    whole avian calendar that has not been meditated upon and hatched in his
    nest.

    It is true that there are people of such impinging personality that
    merely mild dislike with respect to them seems impossible. The reactions
    they produce are violent. Their admirers, when they have any, pursue
    their loyalty to an _O Altitudo!_ their enemies (and such are usually
    legion) make of their names a hissing, and spit them out of the mouth.
    To particularize, I might refer to a gentleman who was vigorously active
    in the political unpleasantness of 1912. His friends saw in him a
    Godefroy, come to lead the politically pure against the hordes of the
    standpat infidels; his enemies, when they had wiped the froth from their
    lips, turned the vocabulary of prayer to evil uses, and accused him of
    being in league with the devil.

    But these are merely individuals. The cases in which an indictment is
    drawn up against a whole people are comparatively rare,--the Goths,
    perhaps, the Turks, and the bloodthirsty Belgians, to bring it down to
    modern times, will serve as examples. Just such an inclusive indictment
    is brought against the jay. "I fear," says one amiable and authoritative
    writer on bird life, "that the blue jay is a reprobate"; and in this
    opinion most authorities concur. Are there not, then, three righteous
    jays in all Israel? No, say his judges. Peradventure one? "Only in the
    museums of natural history," they inexorably answer. All living jays are
    impudent, profane, mischievous, cannibalistic, "the hul cussed tribe of
    'em," as one exasperated gardener wrathfully declared to me.

    Dear, dear! This is a terrible situation. Like Fuzzy Wuzzy, the poor
    blue jay "'asn't got no papers of his own." Nor can he follow the
    example of those benevolent corporations whose judicious investments in
    advertising space temper the unshorn lamb to receive the shears in a
    docile mood, and at the same time protect them from too close scrutiny
    by the newspapers. He must bear the slings and air-guns of outrageous
    boyhood with scarcely a voice raised in his behalf. It seems hardly
    fair.

    It is true that the jay is not delicate in his appetite. He cannot, like
    the ethereal maiden whom Burton mentions, subsist for months on the
    smell of a rose. I knew one old gentleman, to be sure, who secured a
    brief respite from care, and achieved a state of mild hilarity, by
    applying his nose to the mouth of a whiskey jug. But the jay enjoys not
    these olfactive refections. He needs more substantial food. He is
    omnivorous; and out of that important characteristic springs his most
    reprehensible trait: he eats little birds.

    One morning last summer I got up rather earlier than usual to transplant
    some asters before the sun should come out hot. It was a calm,
    breezeless morning, with scarcely a sound to disturb the cool quietude,
    except the song of a robin on the top of the old maple. Heaven be
    praised! we have no trolley cars in our village, and no factories.
    Suddenly there broke out in the alley, the wildest commotion imaginable.
    It sounded as though the sparrows from five counties were there, and had
    eaten of the insane root. The air was filled with shrill cries, chirps,
    and excited chatterings. I rushed to the fence, my fingers all mud, and
    looked over. In the midst of a flock of sparrows forty or more in
    number, all hopping about distractedly but none daring to attack him,
    stood a big blue jay with his crest militantly erect. From time to time
    he pecked at something, but what that something was, like Peterkin, I
    could not well make out. At every stroke of his strong black beak the
    cries of the sparrows shrilled louder; whenever he paused and looked
    around in his truculent contempt, their frenzied crescendos somewhat
    abated.

    Curious, I drew nearer and discovered that the object of his unpleasant
    attention was a young sparrow, a mere fledgeling, scarcely old enough to
    be out of the nest. He was murderously pecking it in the eye. The wee
    helpless thing fluttered weakly in its agony and cheeped piteously. I
    grabbed up an empty fruit jar that had protected a rose cutting from the
    blasts of winter, and hurled it at the jay. He flew screaming to a sour
    cherry tree a short distance away, from which safe vantage point he
    cursed me with every oath and revilement in his scandalous vocabulary.
    The little sparrow I put out of its misery.

    As I went back to my asters, I could not help reflecting on the scene I
    had witnessed. I seemed to see in it a small counterpart of what had
    happened in Europe. Here was little Servia in the person of this young
    sparrow--something of a nuisance, perhaps, yet comparatively
    defenseless. And here in the arrogant, domineering jay, relentless and
    powerful, was Austria. A similitude might likewise be made out for
    Belgium and Germany. And where, I wondered, did my own country come in?
    With almost sinister significance a sleek bronze grackle, plump and
    round, his eyes standing out with fatness, emerged leisurely from among
    the currant bushes and gobbled up a worm. I had been vaguely aware of
    his presence from the first, and now as I noted his well-fed
    complacency, and remembered that he had been foraging around utterly
    oblivious of the little tragedy being enacted in the alley, I lost my
    patience and let fly a good-sized clod.

    But jays are jays, and it were unfair to demand from them a standard of
    conduct that even human beings, with all their centuries of moral
    education, find it hard to apply. As a matter of fact the only jay I
    ever caught red-beaked at such murderous work was the one in the alley,
    and my field of observation has extended clear from the coast of Maine
    part way to the Rocky Mountains. Yet if a man from Mars were to pick up
    a bundle of newspapers, and could make out the strange little characters
    imprinted thereon, he would probably infer that murder was a trade
    common enough among human beings, particularly to-day. He would see it
    as a highly organized and severely technical activity carried on by
    whole nations under the direction of their respective governments. It
    must be said, however, that although the sensitive nerve of national
    honor seems oftenest to reside in the national belly, nations rarely
    murder with the object of eating their victims. And those jays that
    murder are censurable chiefly in this: they have learned so little from
    humanity's civilized forbearance.

    * * * * *

    To tell the truth, the jay is not the fiercely courageous and militantly
    aggressive biped his harsh cries and erected crest might lead one to
    suppose. His aspect is doubtless frightful to some small birds, but most
    of them recognize in him much of the Pistolian braggart. I have seen a
    house-wren, about the size of a large colored gentleman's thumb, drive
    him away from her vine-shaded dwelling. Robins quickly put him to
    flight, and so, too, do catbirds and cardinals. Even the mourning dove
    (gentlest of birds) does not fear to measure her mild weapons with his;
    and one of the most amusing spectacles I ever witnessed was the comical
    bluff of a dove who puffed out her breast, fierce as a lamb, and
    literally pushed the swash-buckling blue jay clean off the feed board.

    That the jay does not always exercise the discretion of which the timid
    proverb speaks, the crown of my head can very well testify. One pleasant
    afternoon, while I was breathlessly pursuing the phantom of an idea
    through the syntactical mazes of a freshman theme, I became aware of the
    sharp screaming of a pair of jays directly beneath my open window. I
    glanced out and saw (item) one baby jay squatting all hunched up on the
    close-cut lawn in the sunlight; (item) one long, lithe, black cat in the
    shadow of the syringa bush, blinking its greedy yellow eyes and moving
    its tail with a gentle, snaky, anticipatory motion; and (item) two
    frantic parent jays darting viciously at the black sphinx, and shrieking
    like a couple of suffragettes in the hands of a pair of miserable London
    bobbies. I watched the little drama until I saw the cat quivering for
    the spring; whereupon, forsaking the role of spectator, I threw my
    bottle of red ink and drove the dark marauder from the field. Surely
    never was preceptorial red ink put to more humane uses.

    As I turned back to my themes, it occurred to me that here was the very
    opportunity I had been looking for. My favorite hobby is taking bird
    pictures, and I had long desired a picture of a young jay. Most
    fledgelings bear a ludicrous likeness to very old men. They wear an
    expression of solemn and pessimistic wisdom such as comes only to those
    who have looked long on the vanities of mankind. And it has always
    seemed to me that the infant jay bears a weird resemblance to England's
    Grand Old Man, Mr. Gladstone, after he had passed the prime of old age.
    Out of regard, then, for the great Liberal minister, and also because I
    am no rifler of nests, I seized my old black hat and a camera, and
    dashed downstairs. My plan was to drop the hat over the unsuspecting
    fledgeling so that I could pick him up without any fuss, and pose him on
    the grape-vine behind the house. But the young rascal, divining my
    intention, hopped away, and kept with exasperating nicety just out of
    reach. Finally, by dint of much scrambling along on my knees, taking
    care to preserve as innocent an expression as I could, I managed to clap
    the hat over him. But as I took him out from the sudden gloom, he gave
    one terrified shriek, and the next instant BING! something sharp,
    something penetrating, something entirely unexpected, struck me on the
    head. It was the marvellously efficient beak of Mr. Jay.

    I did not try to reason with him or placate him in wheedling tones. The
    ambient air was too full of a shrapnel burst of screaming, darting,
    pecking, whirling, shrieking blue jay. His shrill and angry cries,
    moreover, called to his aid three other jays, and such a stream of
    feathered Billingsgate followed as, I felt sure, must fix the eyes of
    all the neighborhood upon me. And so I retreated to the house,
    endeavoring in my gait to preserve that dignity of bearing which is
    generally supposed to be the fruit of an academic life. But the jay,
    with the uncomfortable persistence of a bee or a small heel-snapping
    terrier, pursued me to the very door, and might have chased me upstairs
    had it not been for the screen. After that I decided never again to
    attempt kidnapping a jay without the protection of a policeman's helmet.

    But the fierce detractors of the blue jay will doubtless scoff at this
    as evidence of a sometimes resolute daring. I do not resent the implied
    aspersion of my own courage; I am content to leave that to the judgment
    of my readers. There is, however, one bit of commendation to which even
    they must "assent with civil ear," as a freshman of mine put it. The
    blue jay is almost humanly intelligent. Mind, I do not argue that he
    can, offhand, give you the distinction between free verse and a page
    from a real poet's note-book, or that he can explain precisely why
    certain matters are deleted by the British censors. But with the
    intrepidity of a new Congressman delivering a speech in the _Record_, I
    dare assert, "without fear of _successful_ contradiction," that the blue
    jay is among the most intelligent of feathered bipeds.

    Not long ago, during a particularly sharp attack of bitter weather, with
    frosty bayonets in the air but no snow on the ground, I was holding a
    conference in the English office with one of my students, a girl whose
    sweet deep eyes gave no flicker of understanding as I tried to make
    clear to her the difference between a sentence and a clause. To conceal
    my sorrow I stepped to the window and gazed off through the grayish-blue
    beeches with their dead brown leaves shivering in the keen air, trying,
    meanwhile, to recall what principle of pedagogic efficiency I had failed
    to employ. Presently a blue jay with something white in its beak
    alighted upon the twisted limb of a maple not a rod from the window, and
    began a close inspection of the rough bark. He found what he was looking
    for, a hole; and into this he thrust the white substance which he
    carried in his beak, suet possibly, from the feed-board below, or a bit
    of bread. He cocked his head on one side and eyed the little cache in a
    thoughtful manner. Then he dropped to the ground.

    I thought that was the end, but I was mistaken. Soon he shot up to the
    limb, this time with a dead leaf in his beak. I watched intently and saw
    him carefully lay the leaf over the hole where he had hidden the suet. A
    gust of wind, however, blew the leaf off the limb, and sent it swirling
    to the ground. Quick as a hawk the jay swooped after it in an
    ineffectual attempt to capture it while it was still in the air. They
    reached the ground together. Convinced apparently that the leaf was too
    large, he selected another, much smaller, and carried it up to the limb.
    This time he did not merely lay the leaf over the hole; he had learned
    his lesson. Instead, he rammed the leaf into the hole on top of the
    suet, a really difficult job, and packed it firmly with his beak. It was
    safe from the other jays if not from the inquisitive redheaded
    woodpecker who lived only a few branches away. Now all you host of
    cocksure psychologists, was it instinct or reason that led the jay?

    I know it has been argued that since a jay will attack a stuffed owl
    placed near his nest, he must be without the power of reason. The test
    seems hardly fair, for the ghoulish mystery of the taxidermist is known
    to no animal but man. Thus at the very start the jay is laid under an
    unreasonable handicap. Consider, too, the ingeniously cruel nature of
    this test; it pierces him as it were in the eye of his most sensitive
    instinct. Even human parents, faced by an ordeal at all comparable to
    this in sudden poignancy, would scarcely act in a manner calmly
    rational. What mother, leaving her infant slumbering in the cradle, and
    suddenly returning to find a brutal visaged mannikin bent over it in a
    posture of menace, would expend the millionth of a second in the
    psychologist's reflective delay? Like the jay, she would act in such a
    situation from instinct alone, nor would we consider her deficient in
    intelligence.

    But even if the jay were as stupid as an old-model political
    prison-warden, or an English official in Ireland, which he indubitably
    is not, I would still look upon him with an indulgent eye. The redbird
    excepted, he is the sole bit of lively color in our winter landscape. No
    matter how sharp the wind or deep the snow, you will find him foraging
    among the low bushes or uttering his cheerfully vigorous _jay! jay!
    jay!_ from the airy chambers of some tall, bare maple. And if you are of
    that generous company who share their winter bounty with the birds, from
    none of your feathered charity scholars will you receive more evident
    tokens of full appreciation than from the maligned jay. He is as prompt
    to the feeding board as an impecunious college professor to the bursar's
    office at the end of the first quarter. To be sure, his table manners
    are somewhat rude, but what he lacks in elegance he more than atones for
    with a certain robust beef-and-pudding gusto that I have somehow come to
    associate with Lord Macaulay.

    It is in the spring, however, in the days of warm sunshine and clear
    air, when the grass begins to quicken along the walks and around the
    roots of the big elm-trees, when the vanguard of the crocus legions have
    thrust their green spear-heads up through the sere lawn, and the buds on
    the lilac bushes along the garden fence have begun to swell, that the
    jay reveals how really amiable he can be. To many who do not know him
    well it will come as a surprise to learn that he possesses vocal
    attainments far beyond the harsh cry from which he takes his name. Under
    the spell of love he becomes truly melodic. He will sit for ten minutes
    at a time in the old black cherry-tree, and beginning with a soft,
    prelusory, ventriloquial whistle, as though he were a musician testing
    his flute, he will run through a series of little musical snatches
    surprising in their mimetic variety. Now it will seem like a baby's
    silver rattle, or like clear water gurgling over a sunny bed of pebbles;
    again you will hear a note or two of the robin, or a plaintive echo of
    the bluebird's song, or even the beautiful sliding legato of the
    cardinal,--with a crack in it, perhaps.

    As the head of a family the blue jay is exemplary. He is not one of
    those who think they perform the whole duty of husbands when they preen
    their gay feathers in the sunlight, or lift their voices in flattering
    song, while their plain little wives build the nest, hatch the eggs, and
    go in search of the nourishing worm. Not much! He believes that marriage
    is a partnership involving equal duties and responsibilities; and so,
    during the nesting season, you will see him busily at work, searching
    for the best twigs, paper, string, tendrils, and rootlets obtainable. I
    once saw a nest that had a piece of yellow paper sticking out of its
    side, with the cryptic legend--_otes for wom_--plainly legible on it,
    but I am not sure that it had any real significance. Feeding the young
    jays, too, he considers part of his fatherly duties, and sometimes,
    though not often, he even treats Mrs. Jay to a specially delicate tidbit
    of bug or worm. If the latter should happen to be fuzzy, he will follow
    his careful wife's example and thoroughly wipe the fuzz off on the rough
    bark of some tree.

    And he likes his bath; no monocled Englishman better. Indeed, if you
    really wish to enjoy a treat, set a rusty shallow pan of water on your
    lawn, not _too_ near the tulip-bed or shrubbery (Cats!), and see what
    follows. If you have been thoughtful enough to place a stone or a piece
    of brick near the rim of the pan, Mr. and Mrs. Jay will step right in
    and enjoy a thorough wetting without much preliminary skirmishing. But
    little Willie Jay and his four brothers will exhibit all the delicious
    trepidation of childhood. While their parents are in the bath, they will
    be bold enough, even to running up and allowing themselves to be
    splashed on; but when it comes to actually entering the water, ugh! They
    will linger around the edge of the pan, fluttering their wings, hop
    across it, dip their beaks into the water, turn around, and splash the
    water with their tails--in short, go through all the motions of a small
    boy having his first "duck under" without the assuring grasp of his
    father's strong hand. But once let them get in, and oh, what a joyous
    splashing ensues, what a ruffling of feathers, what a beating of wings,
    what a fan-like fluttering of the tail! Like most small boys, too, they
    will stay in until they are thoroughly soaked, scarcely able, in fact,
    to fly up to some sunny limb where they may preen themselves and dry off
    out of harm's reach.

    No, the jay is not an unprincipled scoundrel, not the bloodthirsty
    reprobate he is sometimes made out to be. He has his faults, it is true,
    properly censurable; but he has some very commendable virtues as well.
    And I am sure that if the reader will watch his career as carefully as I
    have, from his fledgeling childhood to his gay and dashing cavalier
    youth, he will agree with me that the imaginations of the blue jay's
    heart are not wholly evil.

    THE FLEMISH QUESTION

    _Divide ut imperes_--make a faction among your enemies, and thus
    overcome them. This is German policy all over the world. By it the Danes
    of Slesvig have been to a large extent robbed of their own language and
    national traditions. By it the Prussian intruders have, with
    characteristic inability to understand foreign souls, endeavored, in
    their periods of repose after acts of brutality, to alienate from France
    the French-speaking and French-minded inhabitants of Alsace and
    Lorraine. It has failed not only there, but notoriously also in Posen or
    Prussian Poland, where it was long ago abandoned in favor of a system of
    downright and unscrupulous repression. It has succeeded, for the moment
    at least, in Russia, which now lies dismembered at the feet of a
    triumphant betrayer. What was a year ago Russia is now dissolved into
    Lithuania, Livonia, Esthonia, Courland, Finland, Poland, the Ukraine,
    the country of the Don Cossacks, the Caucasus, and the vague and
    fluctuating realm of Bolshevism. Historic memories, linguistic
    variations, religious differences, local jealousies, class feeling, and
    commercial rivalries have been emphasized by German agents behind the
    frontier, and through the gaps thus made the German sword has pushed its
    point, breaking up the old mortar of loyalty and union. One typical
    example of the method employed may be cited here. According to the
    Berlin _Lokal Anzeiger_ of March 26, 1917, Zimmermann, the German
    Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, our Zimmermann, welcomed a
    delegation of Lithuanians and piped sweetly to them about the tender
    interest his government took in the welfare of their people, promising
    to satisfy various local desires. We have seen the result.

    German intrigue of the same sort has long been at work in India, where
    it has happily been baffled by the good sense of the Indian population
    who appreciate the fact that with all their numerous languages, races,
    and religions, they owe their concord to the light rule of Britain and
    to her even-handed justice. One of the boldest, meanest, and cruelest
    instances of the same policy of treacherous penetration was the effort
    to cause a rebellion in Ireland, for the Germans knew that rebellion
    meant the destruction of their own tools and Ireland's shame and ruin.
    As Americans, we have reason to keep our eyes upon the large German
    colonies in southern Brazil and upon the outposts of German imperialism
    in Mexico, Chile, and Argentina, and still greater reason to look out
    for the thin wedges of Prussian intrigue insinuating themselves among
    our own many racial and confessional varieties.

    The most thinly disguised of all German attempts to conquer by division
    is also one of the latest to be disclosed, although it began at least
    three years ago. "Love me," says the Kaiser to the outraged daughters of
    the Belgian household; "or if you will not both love me, I shall take
    the likelier of you, and give her a seat at the royal feast, and put my
    ring upon her finger, and make her sister serve us in our mirth."

    As is well known, there is no such thing as a Belgian language, and the
    people of Belgium speak one or both of two languages, French and
    Flemish. Both French and Flemish are and have long been officially
    recognized by the Belgian government, and are used in Parliament, in
    public documents, in the courts, and in the national schools. The French
    spoken and written by educated Belgians is standard or central French,
    differing in no essential respect from the language of France; but among
    the people who have French as their native tongue, the Walloons, there
    is employed a dialect of French, just as the people of many parts of
    France, and indeed of all countries, have their local dialects. The
    Walloons differ from the rest of the Belgians chiefly in language and in
    the fact that they inhabit the southern and southeastern parts of the
    kingdom, where mining and metallurgical industry are highly developed.
    They also have more points of contact with France, both geographically
    and morally. If you take a map of Belgium and draw a line from Vise, the
    point where the Meuse passes into Holland, almost straight west through
    Brussels, Audenarde, and Courtrai, or a little south of these cities,
    you will have traced the northern boundary of the Walloon country.
    Almost anywhere along this imaginary line, one can, by going a short
    distance south, be among people who nearly all speak French or the
    Walloon dialect of French, and, by going a little way north, be among
    people who, though they may write French and speak it as an acquired
    language, use Flemish as their native tongue. Nevertheless, in this
    densely populated, busy, rich, and closely unified kingdom, the various
    elements of the population were happily mingled. Thousands of Belgian
    families are part Walloon and part Flemish. When a Walloon family moves
    north into a Flemish village it usually changes its language in the
    second generation, and vice versa. Many Walloons have Flemish names;
    many Flemings have Walloon names.

    Flemish is scarcely distinguishable from Dutch. Although philologically
    they may be regarded as twin dialects of one tongue, they are for
    practical purposes the same. There are, to be sure, a few slight
    differences of idiom, and numerous differences of vocabulary, even
    between standard written Flemish and standard written Dutch, but
    scarcely more important than those between the English of Mr. Howells
    and the English of Mr. Hardy. In popular speech the gap is naturally
    wider, and perhaps justifies the view that Flemish and Dutch are
    separate dialects of one language, though "dialect" may really be too
    strong a word. From my own observation in East Flanders, I should say
    that a Dutchman would be in about the same situation there with regard
    to difference of speech as a New Englander in Virginia.

    According to the census of 1910, there were in Belgium about 3,832,000
    persons speaking French or belonging to French-speaking families, and
    about 4,153,000 speaking Flemish or belonging to Flemish families. The
    Flemish population, being to a larger extent agricultural, has for many
    years been increasing faster than the Walloons. Yet French, being by
    acquisition or second-nature a language perfectly familiar to all
    educated Belgians, appears to have, and really has, an immense advantage
    over Flemish. The literature of the French language is enriched and
    glorified with the names of many great authors, from Jean Froissart and
    Philippe de Comines to Maeterlinck and Verhaeren, who belong by birth or
    residence to what we now call Belgium.

    But the Flemish had, and probably always will have, a pride of their
    own. In the Middle Ages their cities were among the first in Northern
    Europe to emerge from obscurity. The names of Flemish towns strike the
    ear with a strange ruggedness in the liquid lapse of Dante's lines, but
    a stranger thing it is that even in the thirteenth century these
    vigorous municipalities were looked to for independence, and called upon
    for vengeance on tyranny; we hear, in the Purgatorio, of "the evil plant
    that overshadows all the Christian land," and are told that "if Douai,
    Lille, Ghent and Bruges had power, there would soon be vengeance taken."
    A curious example this of "ancestral voices prophesying war."

    In the sixteenth century Flanders was the scene of tragic resistance to
    Spain and the Inquisition. Liberty was lost and recovered and lost
    again; but prosperity still bloomed from the ashes of destroyed
    commerce, the language and institutions of the land were redeemed with a
    fearful price, civilization was preserved with blood and sorrow, art
    flourished in the midst of horrors; and how all this came to pass is
    explained only by the stubbornness with which the people kept up their
    local patriotism. The visible signs of this municipal pride and glory
    were, until four years ago, and in part still are, the great churches,
    town-halls, and guild-houses of Flanders. Among the most impressive of
    these monuments were the Cloth Hall at Ypres, the Belfry of Bruges, the
    Town-halls of Audenarde, Alost, Termonde, Louvain, Brussels, and Ghent,
    the Cathedrals of Antwerp and Malines, the quaint Beguinages or cities
    of retirement for religious women, and many another less renowned but
    hardly less beautiful expression of ancient faith and community of
    enterprise.

    The Austrian yoke was shaken off at the time of the French Revolution,
    and after a short period of republican government Belgium, together with
    France, came under the domination of Napoleon. At the Congress of
    Vienna, in 1815, Belgium and Holland were united under the name of the
    Kingdom of the Netherlands, in an ill-assorted combination which lasted
    only till 1830, when the present Kingdom of Belgium was established.
    From that year to 1914 the Flemish people of Belgium, though more than
    satisfied to live in political union with the Walloons, and indeed being
    the more prosperous and rapidly growing part of the population, were
    solicitous to preserve their local customs and particularly their own
    language. Societies were formed for the cultivation of Flemish
    literature. Endowments for the same purpose were established. One of the
    parliamentary aims of political parties in the provinces of East and
    West Flanders and Antwerp and the northern sections of Brabant and
    Limbourg was the safe-guarding of Flemish as one of the official
    languages and a medium of instruction. There was not the slightest
    flavor of disloyalty in this desire. It was entirely constitutional. It
    expressed itself openly, and had no need for secrecy. The tendency thus
    created was called the Flamingant movement. No one connected with it, so
    far as I can discover, entertained the slightest notion of appealing to
    Germany for countenance or support. The Flemings in general and the
    Flamingants in particular would have been the last people in the world
    to admit that their language was a dialect of _German_ or that their
    manifest destiny was absorption in the German Empire. The unity of
    Belgium was as precious to them as to the Walloons, and was placed above
    every consideration of race and speech. But there is no country under
    the sun in which local self-government and community interests are so
    highly developed as in Belgium. Under the Belgian constitution the
    communes enjoy the maximum of freedom. Civic pride nowhere else burns so
    bright. It is the habit of local self-government, the strong
    personalities developed under this system, and the spirit of the
    communes that have saved Belgium from starvation during the war. As
    every one of Mr. Hoover's American delegates in Belgium will testify,
    the spectacle was and is magnificent. As early as October, 1914, when
    the wave of invasion had passed over Belgium, the communes stood firm,
    and in all of them committees with almost absolute power, and enjoying
    the perfect confidence of the people, were formed and got to work
    commandeering the visible supply of food and distributing it prudently.

    Within a very short time after the invasion the Germans showed that they
    intended to take advantage of the difference between Flemings and
    Walloons, a difference which, as we have seen, was purely domestic, and
    concerned with no really vital political issue. Among the offices of his
    hated administration, Governor-General von Bissing established a bureau
    for dealing with "the Flemish question," a bureau consisting of German
    specialists in philology and discord. For about seven months, this
    commission, which was working in secret, attracted hardly any attention.
    Then it began to operate visibly. In the summer of 1915, I was
    stationed, as delegate of the Hoover commission, in Ghent, the capital
    of East Flanders, and witnessed the beginning of German coquetry. As may
    be imagined, it was very clumsy and ineffectual. One day an attempt
    would be made to flatter the local pride of the peasants by printing
    official notices and war bulletins in Flemish and German only, instead
    of Flemish, German, and French, as had previously been the practice; the
    next day they would be informed, in these same posters, that they must
    surrender their hay-crop to the German military authorities. The Germans
    appeared to be as much detested in Flanders as anywhere else in Belgium.
    I saw the wife of a distinguished citizen of Ghent burst into tears of
    vexation and anxiety because a German officer of high rank spoke to her
    in a restaurant. She said she feared she would be distrusted for the
    rest of her life by her fellow-citizens for having listened to a German
    officer. Yet he was evidently a gentleman, behaved with propriety, and
    had the excuse for addressing her that he was quartered in her house. I
    have known persons in Ghent to go willingly to prison rather than comply
    with German rules or pay fines into the German treasury. "Do you see
    that man?" said to me an acquaintance in Ghent one day, pointing to a
    German in uniform who was speaking Flemish to some peasants. "He lived
    here before the war; he will not be able to live here after the war; his
    life will not be safe."

    Before the war there were four universities in Belgium: the Catholic
    university of Louvain, the liberal or non-sectarian university of
    Brussels, and the two state universities of Liege and Ghent. The
    instruction was given entirely in French, except that there were certain
    courses at Louvain and Ghent which were paralleled, rather expensively,
    one would think, by courses in Flemish. In 1911 a bill was introduced in
    the Belgian Parliament looking to the gradual transformation of the
    University of Ghent into an institution completely Flemish. In 1912 this
    proposal was again discussed, and was reported favorably in the Chamber
    of Representatives. The war of course put an end to the project.

    Now the Germans have taken it up with enthusiasm, trying to harvest for
    their own purposes the sympathies that were formerly cultivated in its
    favor. Whether they annex all or part or none of Belgium, they desire to
    pose as the liberators of Flanders, and to foment a permanent jealousy
    between the Flemish-speaking people and the rest of the Belgian
    population. This is precisely like their conduct in the south of
    Ireland, in the Province of Quebec, and in Russia. They have their eye
    on Antwerp, which they intend to keep, whatever happens, and they
    realize that Flanders would be a good basis for the eventual absorption
    of Holland.

    On December 2, 1915, it became known in Belgium that the German
    authorities purposed to reopen the University of Ghent, which of course
    had been closed, and to make Flemish the language of instruction. Their
    design was instantly understood by everybody, including the leaders of
    the old Flamingant movement, who, instead of falling in with it, met it
    with a vigorous protest. This was disregarded, and on the 31st of
    December the decree was promulgated. A commission of German professors
    was empowered to draw up regulations for carrying out the plan of
    transformation. Meanwhile, in order to encourage as many Belgian young
    men as possible to escape from the country and find their way into the
    Belgian army, the real authorities of the four universities were keeping
    these institutions closed. Their passive resistance enraged the Germans,
    who, on March 18, 1916, arrested the two most celebrated professors of
    Ghent, Henri Pirenne, and Paul Fredericq, eminent historians, and sent
    them to prison-camps in Germany, where they have been treated with
    disgusting brutality. The colleagues of these two brave men were not
    less courageous themselves, and signed a second protest. Thereupon the
    Germans made up a ridiculous little faculty of their own, and imposed it
    upon the university, which, we must remember had no students. There were
    at first seven of these professors, of whom one was a German, another a
    native of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, and five were Belgians without
    distinction in the learned world or respectability as citizens. To these
    were later added a number of equally insignificant Dutch and German
    teachers of minor rank, and a very few Belgians. Opinion in Holland rose
    in disgust, and an unpleasant life awaits the Dutch instructors if they
    ever dare return to the land of their birth. They have been canny enough
    to make sure of pensions from the German government, in view of the
    probability that they will in the near future be men without a country.

    On April 5, 1916, the German Chancellor, making a curious mixture of
    cynicism and hypocrisy, in a speech before the Reichstag, promised that
    the Imperial Government would help the Flemish population to free itself
    from "the preponderance of French culture." The Germans no doubt
    expected some backing from the Flamingant societies, the trustees of the
    Flemish endowment funds, and the former political supporters of the
    Flemish movement. In this they have been disappointed, for their conduct
    has aroused protest upon protest from all these quarters. It is
    difficult to determine, from the boasts in the German newspapers and the
    denials of exiled Belgians, just how many teachers and students had been
    scraped together by the beginning of 1917, but the faculty was a motley
    collection of German, Dutch and Belgian nonentities, and there were less
    than three students for every teacher. To-day there is only one student
    in agriculture, the subject that would naturally be most sought in a
    Flemish university. Of all the war-babies, this University of Ghent is
    surely the most anaemic. Yet if we are to believe General von Bissing in
    the speech in which he declared it alive and viable, "The God of War
    held it at the baptismal font with naked sword in hand!" This is _echt
    Deutsch_ in taste and feeling. And while these proceedings were solemnly
    going on, the deportation of workmen from Ghent was beginning; on the
    very day of inauguration, husbands and fathers were being torn from
    their families to suffocate in German salt-mines, to sweat and faint in
    German collieries, to dig and die in German trenches. Has the world ever
    seen a more revolting instance of hypocrisy? I happened to be in
    Courtrai one morning when a number of Flemish wives and mothers were
    herded into the jail there, from the village of Sweveghem, because their
    men had refused to make barbed wire for the Germans. International law
    forbids a conqueror to compel the vanquished to produce munitions of
    war, but what of that!

    Parallel with the ludicrous pretence of enriching Belgium with a
    Germano-Flemish university, close observers of Belgian affairs, by
    reading the Dutch and German newspapers, have watched the development of
    another German scheme for producing discord. On February 14, 1917,
    thirty Belgian tools of the German military authorities set themselves
    up, or rather were set up by German backers, as a "Council of Flanders,"
    with the avowed purpose of creating an autonomous state out of the
    Flemish-speaking portion of Belgium. The plot began to culminate in
    Baron von Bissing's decree of March 21, 1917, establishing two
    administrative regions, one Flemish, the other Walloon. Brussels was to
    be the capital of the former, Namur of the latter. This decree sent
    consternation into the hearts of all true Belgians, and has led finally
    to an ominous result, the resignation of nearly all the Belgian
    judiciary. Up to this time, protected by international law and by the
    national constitution, which even the Germans professed to respect, the
    magistrates of Belgium had continued to perform some of their functions,
    thereby shielding the people to a certain extent from direct contact
    with German judges and police officers, and no doubt saving the country
    from bloody and useless insurrections: for if the minute and daily
    administration of local affairs, such as the collection of private debts
    and the enforcement of town ordinances, had been all this time in German
    hands, the irritation would have been unbearable.

    With a few delightful exceptions, newspapers in Belgium, even though
    appearing under their old names and in French, are controlled by the
    Germans. I used to amuse myself, in 1915, by translating passages from
    _Le Bruxellois_, ostensibly a real Belgian journal, back into the German
    in which they were originally written or thought. The style betrayed a
    Teutonic source. The delightful exceptions are the brave little
    clandestine _Libre Belgique_ and other papers of a similar character,
    which keep up the spirits of the Belgian people and drive the Germans to
    impotent fury.

    In this case, as in that of the University of Ghent, the Germans
    professed to be responding to Belgian desires. They point to the
    so-called Council of Flanders, in reality a collection of renegade
    Belgians who were brought together by German influence, and protected by
    German arms from the violence of Flemish mobs, who dared to hiss them
    and insult them. A delegation of these worthies was conducted to Berlin,
    where they presented a humble request for the strangulation of Belgian
    liberty and the partition of their native land. Against this plot all
    Belgium has risen. How can Belgium have risen? The answer will give some
    idea of the bravery of those people, even in the isolation and darkness
    and hunger of their present life. Last June between four and five
    hundred Belgian magistrates and members of the bar signed a fruitless
    petition to the German Chancellor against the decree. Judges and local
    administrative officials gave up their functions and their livelihood.
    For this, many of them were arrested and deported to Germany. Against
    the decree of separation, and in favor of "the Belgian Fatherland, Free
    and Indivisible," petitions have been signed by nearly all the former
    senators and deputies remaining in Belgium, by the Flamingant leaders,
    by municipal councils, and by the heroic Cardinal Mercier. The Cardinal
    especially drew attention to the fact that international law demands
    that the domestic administration of an invaded country shall be allowed
    to proceed unmolested, if military necessity permits. To this point
    Baron von Falkenhausen, the German Governor-General, made the following
    insolent rejoinder: "Your Eminence addressed to me on the 6th of June a
    letter in which, taking your stand on the principles of international
    law, you criticize certain of my official acts. I must respectfully
    reply to your Eminence that I refuse to enter with you upon a discussion
    of this subject."

    Decree has followed decree with steady insistence. The courts, even in
    Brussels, which is mainly a French-speaking city, must hold their
    sessions in Flemish; official correspondence north of the imaginary line
    must be in Flemish; the Official Bulletin of German Laws and Decrees in
    Occupied Belgium is printed in German and Flemish for one part of the
    country and in German and French for the other. On August 9, 1917, von
    Falkenhausen issued an edict declaring that in the Flemish
    administrative region "Flemish must be the exclusive official language
    of all the authorities and all the functionaries of the state, the
    provinces, and the communes, as well as their establishments, including
    educational institutions and the teachers therein." On October 6 the
    communes in the Province of Brabant were ordered immediately to organize
    courses in Flemish for the instruction of their employees who did not
    know that language.

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    The United States Constitution https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-constitution/ https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-constitution/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:56 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-constitution/

    The United States Constitution

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    All of the original Project Gutenberg Etexts from the
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    The following edition of The Consitution of the United States of America
    has been based on many hours of study of a variety of editions, and will
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    This document does NOT include the amendments, as the Bill of Rights was
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    THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 1787

    We the people of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union,
    establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence,
    promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves
    and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the
    United States of America.

    Article 1

    Section 1. All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a
    Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and
    House of Representatives.

    Section 2. The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members
    chosen every second Year by the People of the several States,
    and the electors in each State shall have the qualifications requisite
    for electors of the most numerous branch of the State legislature.

    No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained to the
    Age of twenty five Years, and been seven Years a citizen of the United States,
    and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which
    he shall be chosen.

    Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among
    the several States which may be included within this Union,
    according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined
    by adding to the whole number of free Persons, including those
    bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed,
    three fifths of all other Persons. The actual Enumeration shall be made
    within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the
    United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years,
    in such Manner as they shall by law Direct. The number of
    Representatives shall not exceed one for every thirty Thousand,
    but each State shall have at least one Representative;
    and until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New Hampshire
    shall be entitled to chuse three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode Island
    and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New York six,
    New Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six,
    Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Georgia three.

    When vacancies happen in the Representation from any State, the Executive
    Authority thereof shall issue Writs of Election to fill such Vacancies.

    The House of Representatives shall chuse their Speaker and other Officers;
    and shall have the sole Power of Impeachment.

    Section 3. The Senate of the United States shall be composed of
    two Senators from each State, chosen by the legislature thereof,
    for six Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote.

    Immediately after they shall be assembled in Consequence of the first Election,
    they shall be divided as equally as may be into three Classes. The Seats of
    the Senators of the first Class shall be vacated at the expiration of the
    second Year, of the second Class at the expiration of the fourth Year,
    and of the third Class at the expiration of the sixth Year, so that one third
    may be chosen every second Year; and if vacancies happen by Resignation,
    or otherwise, during the recess of the Legislature of any State,
    the Executive thereof may make temporary Appointments until the
    next meeting of the Legislature, which shall then fill such Vacancies.

    No person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the Age of
    thirty Years, and been nine Years a Citizen of the United States,
    and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State
    for which he shall be chosen.

    The Vice-President of the United States shall be President of the Senate,
    but shall have no Vote, unless they be equally divided.

    The Senate shall choose their other Officers, and also a President
    pro tempore, in the Absence of the Vice-President, or when he shall
    exercise the Office of President of the United States.

    The Senate shall have the sole Power to try all Impeachments.
    When sitting for that Purpose, they shall be on Oath or Affirmation.
    When the President of the United States is tried, the Chief Justice
    shall preside: And no Person shall be convicted without the Concurrence
    of two thirds of the Members present.

    Judgment in cases of Impeachment shall not extend further than to removal
    from Office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any Office of honor,
    Trust or Profit under the United States: but the Party convicted shall
    nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and
    Punishment, according to Law.

    Section 4. The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and
    Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof;
    but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations,
    except as to the Places of chusing Senators.

    The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year,
    and such Meeting shall be on the first Monday in December,
    unless they shall by law appoint a different Day.

    Section 5. Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections,
    Returns and Qualifications of its own Members, and a
    Majority of each shall constitute a Quorum to do Business;
    but a smaller Number may adjourn from day to day,
    and may be authorized to compel the Attendance of absent Members,
    in such Manner, and under such Penalties as each House may provide.

    Each house may determine the Rules of its Proceedings,
    punish its Members for disorderly Behavior, and, with the
    Concurrence of two-thirds, expel a Member.

    Each house shall keep a Journal of its Proceedings,
    and from time to time publish the same, excepting such Parts as may
    in their Judgment require Secrecy; and the Yeas and Nays of the
    Members of either House on any question shall, at the Desire of
    one fifth of those Present, be entered on the Journal.

    Neither House, during the Session of Congress, shall, without the
    Consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to
    any other Place than that in which the two Houses shall be sitting.

    Section 6. The Senators and Representatives shall receive a Compensation
    for their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury
    of the United States. They shall in all Cases, except Treason, Felony and
    Breach of the Peace, be privileged from Arrest during their Attendance
    at the Session of their respective Houses, and in going to and returning
    from the same; and for any Speech or Debate in either House,
    they shall not be questioned in any other Place.

    No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected,
    be appointed to any civil Office under the authority of the United States,
    which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been
    increased during such time; and no Person holding any Office under the
    United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance
    in Office.

    Section 7. All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the
    House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with
    Amendments as on other Bills.

    Every Bill which shall have passed the House of Representatives and
    the Senate, shall, before it become a Law, be presented to the
    President of the United States; If he approve he shall sign it,
    but if not he shall return it, with his Objections to that House
    in which it shall have originated, who shall enter the Objections
    at large on their Journal, and proceed to reconsider it.
    If after such Reconsideration two thirds of that house
    shall agree to pass the Bill, it shall be sent,
    together with the Objections, to the other House, by which
    it shall likewise be reconsidered, and if approved by two thirds
    of that House, it shall become a law. But in all such Cases
    the Votes of both Houses shall be determined by Yeas and Nays,
    and the Names of the Persons voting for and against the Bill shall be
    entered on the Journal of each House respectively. If any Bill
    shall not be returned by the President within ten Days (Sundays excepted)
    after it shall have been presented to him, the Same shall be a Law,
    in like Manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress by their
    Adjournment prevent its Return, in which case it shall not be a Law.

    Every Order, Resolution, or Vote to which the Concurrence of the Senate
    and House of Representatives may be necessary (except on a question
    of Adjournment) shall be presented to the President of the United States;
    and before the Same shall take Effect, shall be approved by him,
    or being disapproved by him, shall be repassed by two thirds of
    the Senate and House of Representatives, according to the Rules
    and Limitations prescribed in the Case of a Bill.

    Section 8. The Congress shall have Power to lay and collect Taxes, Duties,
    Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence
    and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises
    shall be uniform throughout the United States;

    To borrow Money on the credit of the United States;

    To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States,
    and with the Indian Tribes;

    To establish an uniform Rule of Naturalization, and uniform Laws
    on the subject of Bankruptcies throughout the United States;

    To coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin,
    and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures;

    To provide for the Punishment of counterfeiting the Securities
    and current Coin of the United States;

    To establish Post Offices and Post Roads;

    To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing
    for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right
    to their respective Writings and Discoveries;

    To constitute Tribunals inferior to the supreme Court;

    To define and punish Piracies and Felonies committed on the high Seas,
    and Offenses against the Law of Nations;

    To declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal,
    and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water;

    To raise and support Armies, but no Appropriation of Money to that Use
    shall be for a longer term than two Years;

    To provide and maintain a Navy;

    To make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces;

    To provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union,
    suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions;

    To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining, the Militia, and for
    governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the
    United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment
    of the Officers, and the Authority of training the militia according
    to the discipline prescribed by Congress;

    To exercise exclusive Legislation in all Cases whatsoever,
    over such District (not exceeding ten Miles square) as may,
    by Cession of particular States, and the Acceptance of Congress,
    become the Seat of the Government of the United States, and to
    exercise like Authority over all Places purchased by the Consent
    of the Legislature of the State in which the Same shall be,
    for the Erection of Forts, Magazines, Arsenals, Dockyards,
    and other needful Buildings;--And

    To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying
    into Execution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested
    by this Constitution in the Government of the United States,
    or in any Department or Officer thereof.

    Section 9. The Migration or Importation of such Persons as any
    of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not
    be prohibited by the Congress prior to the Year one thousand eight
    hundred and eight, but a Tax or Duty may be imposed on such Importation,
    not exceeding ten dollars for each Person.

    The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless
    when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it.

    No Bill of Attainder or ex post facto Law shall be passed.

    No Capitation, or other direct, Tax shall be laid, unless in Proportion
    to the Census or Enumeration herein before directed to be taken.

    No Tax or Duty shall be laid on Articles exported from any State.

    No Preference shall be given by any Regulation of Commerce or Revenue
    to the Ports of one State over those of another: nor shall Vessels bound to,
    or from, one State, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay Duties in another.

    No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence
    of Appropriations made by Law; and a regular Statement and Account
    of the Receipts and Expenditures of all public Money shall be
    published from time to time.

    No Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States;
    and no Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall,
    without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument,
    Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince,
    or foreign State.

    Section 10. No State shall enter into any Treaty, Alliance, or
    Confederation; grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal; coin Money;
    emit Bills of Credit; make any Thing but gold and silver Coin a Tender
    in Payment of Debts; pass any Bill of Attainder, ex post facto Law,
    or Law impairing the Obligation of Contracts, or grant any Title of Nobility.

    No State shall, without the Consent of the Congress, lay any Imposts or Duties
    on Imports or Exports, except what may be absolutely necessary for executing
    it's inspection Laws: and the net Produce of all Duties and Imposts,
    laid by any State on Imports or Exports, shall be for the Use of the Treasury
    of the United States; and all such Laws shall be subject to the Revision
    and Controul of the Congress.

    No State shall, without the Consent of Congress, lay any Duty of
    Tonnage, keep Troops, or Ships of War in time of Peace, enter into any
    Agreement or Compact with another State, or with a foreign Power, or
    engage in War, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent Danger
    as will not admit of delay.

    ARTICLE 2

    Section 1. The executive Power shall be vested in a President
    of the United States of America. He shall hold his Office during
    the Term of four Years, and, together with the Vice President
    chosen for the same Term, be elected, as follows:

    Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct,
    a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives
    to which the State may be entitled in the Congress: but no Senator or
    Representative, or Person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under
    the United States, shall be appointed an Elector.

    The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot
    for two Persons, of whom one at least shall not be an Inhabitant of
    the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of
    all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each;
    which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to
    the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the
    President of the Senate. The President of the Senate shall,
    in the Presence of the Senate and House of Representatives,
    open all the Certificates, and the Votes shall then be counted.
    The Person having the greatest Number of Votes shall be the President,
    if such Number be a Majority of the whole Number of Electors appointed;
    and if there be more than one who have such Majority, and have an equal
    Number of votes, then the House of Representatives shall immediately
    chuse by Ballot one of them for President; and if no Person have
    a Majority, then from the five highest on the List the said House
    shall in like Manner chuse the President. But in chusing the President,
    the Votes shall be taken by States, the Representation from each State
    having one Vote; a Quorum for this Purpose shall consist of a Member
    or Members from two thirds of the States, and a Majority of all the
    States shall be necessary to a Choice. In every Case, after the Choice
    of the President, the Person having the greatest Number of Votes of
    the Electors shall be the Vice President. But if there should remain
    two or more who have equal Votes, the Senate shall chuse from them
    by Ballot the Vice President.

    The Congress may determine the Time of chusing the Electors,
    and the Day on which they shall give their Votes; which Day
    shall be the same throughout the United States.

    No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States,
    at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to
    the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that
    Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years,
    and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.

    In Case of the Removal of the President from Office, or of his Death,
    Resignation, or Inability to discharge the Powers and Duties of the
    said Office, the Same shall devolve on the Vice President, and the
    Congress may by Law provide for the Case of Removal, Death, Resignation
    or Inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what
    Officer shall then act as President, and such Officer shall act accordingly,
    until the Disability be removed, or a President shall be elected.

    The President shall, at stated Times, receive for his Services,
    a Compensation, which shall neither be encreased nor diminished during
    the Period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive
    within that Period any other Emolument from the United States, or any of them.

    Before he enter on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the
    following Oath or Affirmation:--"I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that
    I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States,
    and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the
    Constitution of the United States."

    Section 2. The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army
    and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several States,
    when called into the actual Service of the United States;
    he may require the Opinion, in writing, of the principal Officer
    in each of the executive Departments, upon any Subject relating to
    the Duties of their respective Offices, and he shall have Power
    to grant Reprieves and Pardons for Offenses against the United States,
    except in Cases of impeachment.

    He shall have Power, by and with the Advice and Consent of the
    Senate, to make Treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators
    present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the Advice
    and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public
    Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other
    Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein
    otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law:
    but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers,
    as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law,
    or in the Heads of Departments.

    The President shall have Power to fill up all Vacancies that may happen
    during the Recess of the Senate, by granting Commissions which shall
    expire at the End of their next session.

    Section 3. He shall from time to time give to the Congress
    Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their
    Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient;
    he may, on extraordinary Occasions, convene both Houses, or either
    of them, and in Case of Disagreement between them, with Respect to
    the Time of Adjournment, he may adjourn them to such Time as he shall
    think proper; he shall receive Ambassadors and other public Ministers;
    he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed, and shall
    Commission all the Officers of the United States.

    Section 4. The President, Vice President and all civil Officers of the
    United States, shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for,
    and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.

    ARTICLE THREE

    Section 1. The judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested
    in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may
    from time to time ordain and establish. The Judges, both of the supreme
    and inferior Courts, shall hold their Offices during good behavior,
    and shall, at stated Times, receive for their Services, a Compensation,
    which shall not be diminished during their Continuance in Office.

    Section 2. The judicial Power shall extend to all Cases, in Law and Equity,
    arising under this Constitution, the Laws of the United States, and Treaties
    made, or which shall be made, under their Authority;--to all Cases affecting
    Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls;--to all Cases of admiralty
    and maritime Jurisdiction;--to Controversies to which the United States
    shall be a Party;--to Controversies between two or more States;--between a
    State and Citizens of another State;--between Citizens of different States;
    --between Citizens of the same State claiming Lands under Grants of
    different States, and between a State, or the Citizens thereof,
    and foreign States, Citizens or Subjects.

    In all cases affecting Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls,
    and those in which a State shall be Party, the supreme Court shall have
    original Jurisdiction. In all the other Cases before mentioned, the
    supreme Court shall have appellate Jurisdiction, both as to Law and Fact,
    with such Exceptions, and under such Regulations as the Congress shall make.

    The Trial of all Crimes, except in Cases of Impeachment, shall be by Jury;
    and such Trial shall be held in the State where the said Crimes shall
    have been committed; but when not committed within any State, the Trial
    shall be at such Place or Places as the Congress may by Law have directed.

    Section 3. Treason against the United States, shall consist only in
    levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them
    Aid and Comfort. No Person shall be convicted of Treason unless on
    the Testimony of two Witnesses to the same overt Act, or on Confession
    in open Court.

    The Congress shall have power to declare the punishment of Treason,
    but no Attainder of Treason shall work Corruption of Blood,
    or Forfeiture except during the Life of the Person attainted.

    ARTICLE FOUR

    Section 1. Full Faith and Credit shall be given in each State to the
    public Acts, Records, and judicial Proceedings of every other State.
    And the Congress may by general Laws prescribe the Manner in which such Acts,
    Records, and Proceedings shall be proved, and the Effect thereof.

    Section 2. The Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all
    Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States.

    A Person charged in any State with Treason, Felony, or other Crime,
    who shall flee from Justice, and be found in another State,
    shall on Demand of the executive Authority of the State from
    which he fled, be delivered up, to be removed to the State having
    Jurisdiction of the Crime.

    No person held to Service or Labor in one State, under the Laws thereof,
    escaping into another, shall, in Consequence of any Law or Regulation therein,
    be discharged from such Service or Labor, But shall be delivered up on Claim
    of the Party to whom such Service or Labor may be due.

    Section 3. New States may be admitted by the Congress into this Union;
    but no new States shall be formed or erected within the Jurisdiction
    of any other State; nor any State be formed by the Junction of two
    or more States, or Parts of States, without the Consent of the
    Legislatures of the States concerned as well as of the Congress.

    The Congress shall have Power to dispose of and make all needful Rules
    and Regulations respecting the Territory or other Property belonging
    to the United States; and nothing in this Constitution shall be so
    construed as to Prejudice any Claims of the United States,
    or of any particular State.

    Section 4. The United States shall guarantee to every State in this Union
    a Republican Form of Government, and shall protect each of them against
    Invasion; and on Application of the Legislature, or of the Executive
    (when the Legislature cannot be convened) against domestic Violence.

    ARTICLE FIVE

    The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary,
    shall propose Amendments to this Constitution, or, on the Application of
    the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention
    for proposing Amendments, which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents
    and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures
    of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths
    thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by
    the Congress; Provided that no Amendment which may be made prior to the
    Year one thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any Manner affect
    the first and fourth Clauses in the ninth Section of the first Article;
    and that no State, without its Consent, shall be deprived of it's
    equal Suffrage in the Senate.

    ARTICLE SIX

    All Debts contracted and Engagements entered into, before the Adoption
    of this Constitution, shall be as valid against the United States
    under this Constitution, as under the Confederation.

    This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made
    in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made,
    under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme
    Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby,
    any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary
    notwithstanding.

    The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the
    several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers,
    both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound
    by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious
    Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust
    under the United States

    ARTICLE SEVEN

    The Ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the
    Establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the Same.

    Done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the States present
    the Seventeenth Day of September in the Year of our Lord one
    thousand seven hundred and eighty seven and of the Independence of the
    United States of America the Twelfth In Witness whereof We have
    hereunto subscribed our Names,

    Go. WASHINGTON--
    Presid. and deputy from Virginia

    New Hampshire

    John Langdon
    Nicholas Gilman

    Massachusetts

    Nathaniel Gorham
    Rufus King

    Connecticut

    Wm. Saml. Johnson
    Roger Sherman

    New York

    Alexander Hamilton

    New Jersey

    Wil: Livingston
    David Brearley
    Wm. Paterson
    Jona: Dayton

    Pennsylvania

    B Franklin
    Thomas Mifflin
    Robt Morris
    Geo. Clymer
    Thos FitzSimons
    Jared Ingersoll
    James Wilson
    Gouv Morris

    Delaware

    Geo: Read
    Gunning Bedford jun
    John Dickinson
    Richard Bassett
    Jaco: Broom

    Maryland

    James Mchenry
    Dan of St Thos. Jenifer
    Danl Carroll

    Virginia

    John Blair--
    James Madison Jr.

    North Carolina

    Wm. Blount
    Rich'd Dobbs Spaight
    Hu Williamson

    South Carolina

    J. Rutledge
    Charles Cotesworth Pinckney
    Charles Pinckney
    Pierce Butler

    Georgia

    William Few
    Abr Baldwin

    Attest:
    William Jackson, Secretary

    ]]>
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    The United States Bill of Rights https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-bill-of-rights/ https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-bill-of-rights/#respond Tue, 13 Oct 2026 21:22:55 +0000 https://blog.mabo.cc/the-united-states-bill-of-rights/

    The United States Bill of Rights

    Aproximadamente 496 palavras.

    The United States Bill of Rights.

    The Ten Original Amendments to the Constitution of the United States
    Passed by Congress September 25, 1789
    Ratified December 15, 1791

    I

    Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion,
    or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech,
    or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble,
    and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

    II

    A well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State,
    the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

    III
    No soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house,
    without the consent of the owner, nor in time of war,
    but in a manner to be prescribed by law.

    IV

    The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers,
    and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated,
    and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath
    or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched,
    and the persons or things to be seized.

    V

    No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime,
    unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising
    in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service
    in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for
    the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb;
    nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself,
    nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law;
    nor shall private property be taken for public use without just compensation.

    VI

    In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a
    speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district
    wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have
    been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature
    and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him;
    to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor,
    and to have the assistance of counsel for his defense.

    VII

    In suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed
    twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved,
    and no fact tried by a jury shall be otherwise re-examined in any court
    of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law.

    VIII

    Excessive bail shall not be required nor excessive fines imposed,
    nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.

    IX

    The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights,
    shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

    X

    The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution,
    nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively,
    or to the people.

    ]]>
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  • 粉妝樓71-80回

    粉妝樓71-80回

    Aproximadamente 4.478 palavras.

    Produced by Yu Wen Lin

    Fen Zhuang Lou Chapters 71-80 (Cosmetical Building)

    by Luo GuanZhong

    The original Chinese:

    第七十一回

    祁巧云駕云入相府穿山甲戴月出天牢

    卻說天子見沈謙帶劍上殿,吃了大惊,說道:“老卿休
    得發怒作躁,待寡人明日上城退敵便了。”沈謙大喜道
    :“這便才是,老臣領旨回家,候圣駕便了。”隨即出
    朝,吩咐整頓軍馬,不表。

    且言馬成龍的大隊人馬到了皇城腳下,安營已畢,當晚
    同眾將商議道。“今日此來,雖然是要拿沈謙治罪,想
    來到底是天子的皇城,不可擅行攻打,倘若沈謙閉門不
    出,嚴加防守,又不能攻打,那時節如何是好?”軍師
    謝元道:“大人可修成訴告的本章,去見圣上﹔再修一
    封戰表送与沈謙,約他出來會戰便了。”馬爺依然,隨
    即修成一道本章,又修成戰書一封,和表章扎在一處。

    次日五鼓升帳,便問兩旁眾將:“誰人敢去投書?”言
    還未了,王氏三雄應道:“我等愿往。”馬爺大喜,隨
    即封好了表章戰書,打發三人去了。

    王氏三雄領了表章戰書,隨即披挂上馬,出了營門,竟
    到城下叫道:“營門的聽著、快快通報,今有戰表在此
    ,俺們是來下書的!”那守城門的官兒,望城下一看,
    見是三個人,隨即幵了城門,放下吊橋,引三人入城。
    到了相府,卻好沈謙點齊了三軍,正在那午門外候駕。

    當下門官稟過,王氏三雄見了沈謙,也不下跪,呈上書
    札,說道:“馬元帥有書在此,叫你親去會他。”沈謙
    接將過來,將本章戰書展幵一看,吃了一惊,心中想道
    :“若是天子看見此本,豈不將我從前之事盡行訴出來
    了?”隨即喝令左右:“快將來人送入天牢囚了!”左
    右得令,遂將王氏三雄一齊用繩索綁了,送入大牢監禁
    。

    王氏兄弟一時無備,又無兵器戰斗,不能脫身,衹是高
    聲大罵。眾人將他三人擁入天牢,恰好与龍標監在一處
    ,彼此會見,暗暗的會話,說道:“如今也無可奈何!
    且待兵敗城破,那時俺們先到沈謙家拿他滿門便了。”
    按下不表。

    且說那乾德天子升殿,點齊了一眾侍衛,調了羽林軍馬
    。天子上了逍遙馬,同沈謙的軍馬、一班的文武官員,
    离了午門,竟往北門上了城樓。擺齊了龍旗,御仗、鎖
    斧、金瓜、護衛、鑾儀、寶座,天子下馬坐下。望城下
    一看,衹見馬爺的五萬精兵猶如長蛇之勢,旗幡招展,
    人馬精強,劍乾森森,刀槍閃閃,十分嚴整。那乾德天
    子同文武見了如此軍容,君臣們一齊惊駭。

    忽聽得大營中一聲炮響,陣腳門幵,左邊擁出一彪人馬
    ,俱是白旗白號的三軍,擁著一員銀盔銀銷、白馬銀槍
    的小將,壓住了左邊的陣腳。右邊擁出一彪人馬,俱是
    紅旗紅號的三軍,擁著一員金盔金甲、金銅黃馬的小將
    ,壓住了右邊的陣腳。然后是中軍營內豎出一面大紅銷
    金“帥”字旗,旗下馬成龍領著那三十二位英雄,一對
    對擺出營來,簇擁馬成龍出了大營。

    這邊城上有一員黃門官高聲叫道:“營中聽著!圣上有
    旨,宣定國公馬成龍快來城下見駕!”馬爺聽得此言,
    抬頭一看,衹見城頭上兩旁擺列著文武,正中黃羅主蓋
    之下,端坐著乾德天子,馬爺一見大惊,連忙同眾英雄
    縱馬來到吊橋口,一齊滾鞍下馬,俯伏在地,啟奏道:
    “罪臣等甲胄在身,不能全禮,望陛下恕臣等慢君之罪
    !”天子傳旨:“赦爾等之罪,各賜平身。朕有一言,
    爾等靜聽!”馬爺謝恩奏道:“愿聞萬歲圣諭!”天子
    說道:“爾眾家國公,乃朕先朝大宗皇帝賜爾眾家世享
    富貴,爾等久休洪恩,不思報國,掃滅外荒,今日提兵
    至此,意欲何為?非反而何?”馬爺奏道:“臣等世享
    榮封,龍恩難報,原思各盡其職,以報皇恩。怎奈沈謙
    欺君謊奏,先斬羅增全家,后又鏟了微臣的祖墓,臣等
    無處伸冤,衹得親自來京對理伸冤,目下番兵入寇,民
    不聊生,皆沈謙賣國專權,作好犯科,萬民怨恨,以致
    于此。臣等此來,非敢恣意獲罪,一者為國家除奸去惡
    ,二者為萬民除害安生,三者為祖宗報仇,也消無辜之
    恨,別無他意。”

    天子聽了馬爺這一番實情,道:“既然如此,也該拜本
    來京啟奏才是,不應勒兵至此。”馬爺奏道:“臣等向
    日拜本來京上奏天廷,昨日又有本章差官奏上,陛下怎
    說無本。”天子聽了大惊,道:“本從何來。”沈謙在
    旁大喝道:“馬成龍,你兩次俱是反表戰書,本從何來
    ?圣上面前還敢妄奏。”說罷,手起處就是斗爭箭飛來
    ,直向馬爺的咽喉,馬爺猛然看見。急將頭一低,正中
    盔上,不覺勃然大怒,跳起身來大叫:“圣駕請回,待
    微臣殺此奸臣!不要惊了陛下的龍体。”說罷,喝令眾
    將上馬,執械攻城,

    一聲令下,三軍眾將擂鼓搖旗,沖到城下,駕起云梯,
    支起炮架,弩箭、火炮、鳥槍,望城上飛來,好不利害
    !把個乾德天子嚇得忙忙下了城樓,上了逍遙馬,眾文
    武簇擁圍護,回宮去了。這里馬爺率領大小三軍攻打一
    日,沈謙魂飛魄散,無法可施,惟有吩咐大小將士,緊
    守城池而已。

    單言馬爺一時動怒攻打,皇城豈可擅自攻打,獲罪如何
    是好,謝元道:“若不攻城,怎生得拿奸賊!必要里應
    外合,不用乓火破城才好。”眾將議道:“待我等今夜
    爬城而入便了。”馬爺道:“城高河闊,把守得甚是嚴
    緊,怎生爬得進去?徒勞無功!”馬爺心中納悶,祁巧
    云上前稟道:“大人不要煩惱,今夜可虔誠焚香,求看
    天書,傳奴駕云入城便了。”馬爺聞言大喜,遂吩咐眾
    將各歸營寨。眾人心下好不疑惑:看此女原有些异處,
    一定有些奧妙,明日必見分曉。

    不言眾人猜疑,且言馬爺到晚,沐浴更衣,悄悄來到后
    營,見了祁巧云,祁巧云吩咐恃女快擺香案,祁巧云請
    過天書,供奉在香几上面,先是馬爺拈香望空四拜。拜
    畢后,乃是祁巧云拈香禮拜,口中祝告道:“弟子奉令
    進城探聽軍情,望求大仙指示,速現天文,明斷吉凶!
    ”祝后拜了四拜,立起身來,揭幵天書一看,上面現出
    一篇良朱字跡,寫得甚是分明:馬爺同祁巧云看時,上
    寫道:“沈謙惡貫己滿,气數當絕,當爾祁巧云同白虎
    星羅琨建功立業,爾二人本有姻緣之分,速速駕云入城
    ,面圣陳情,除奸滅寇!速速去訖,不可遲誤。”馬爺
    一見大喜道:“既是神圣現出天文,不可遲延,可与羅
    琨作速前去。”祁巧云面漲通紅,說道:“待奴家獨自
    去罷。”馬爺說道:“你前緣既定,這有何妨?”祁巧
    云回道:“孤男獨女,成何雅道?”馬爺說道:“既如
    此,俺令小女同去便了。”祁巧云衹得依允。

    馬爺遂密喚羅琨入內,吩咐道:“你今夜可同小女金錠
    并祁巧云入城面圣,捉拿沈賊報仇。”羅琨得令,帶了
    銀銅弓箭,那金錠、巧云披挂齊整,各帶雙劍,步到香
    案前。巧云寫了兩道符,与羅琨、金錠各入佩在身上,
    一齊辭了馬爺,馬爺說道:“今夜五更炮響為號,本帥
    在北門接應。”二人聽令,一齊出了帳篷,站立平地。
    羅琨同金錠抓住巧云的絲絛,站在一處,巧云口中念念
    有詞,喝聲:“起!”衹見三朵祥云從他三人腳下飄飄
    冉冉,不一時早起在空中,羅琨、金錠。祁巧云三人站
    立云端,穩如泰山,心中好不歡喜。

    當下馬爺見他三人騰空而去,心中大喜,笑道:“大事
    已成!”忙忙入帳,傳令眾將盡起,人馬齊到北門等候
    ,五更炮響,即去搶城,不表。

    且言巧云、金錠、羅琨三人商議道:“我們此去,必須
    先見圣上奏過了,再去捉拿奸賊沈謙才是道理。衹是空
    中行路,不知皇宮在于何處。”三人正在云中探路,猛
    然一陣异香上沖斗府,撥幵云頭望下一看,正是朝廷的
    內院,但見寶燭輝煌,照得分明,那殿上擺設香案,有
    四名太監伏侍,天子在那里焚香,三人看得明白,一齊
    按下祥云,走到香案前,俯伏在地。天子見空中降下三
    個人來,跪在地下,吃了一惊,嚇得倒退數步,戰戰兢
    兢,問道:“爾是何怪,至此何干?速速說來。”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十二回

    破長安里應外合入皇宮訴屈伸冤

    話說天子正在那里焚香祝告,猛見半空中落下三個人來
    ,嚇得天子問道:“你們三個人是妖是仙,到此何干?
    莫非是刺客,前來暗害寡人么。”三人奏道:“萬歲在
    上,臣等非妖非仙,亦不是刺客,求圣上赦臣等死罪,
    臣等有下情冒奏天廷!”天子聽了說道:“赦爾等無罪
    ,有甚么事,從實說來。”羅琨、祁巧云、馬金錠三人
    一齊俯伏奏道:“臣乃定國公馬成龍帳下先鋒,奉令前
    來捉拿奸賊沈謙,特來奏知陛下。”天子惊問道:“爾
    等既是馬卿的軍官,怎得騰空至此?姓甚名准?從實奏
    來。”羅琨奏道:“微臣非別,乃越國公羅增次子歲餛
    。”天子吃了一惊,說道:“大反山東就是你么?”羅
    琨奏道:“臣焉敢反,皆因沈謙逼急,出于無奈。”天
    子問道:“兩員女將是誰?”羅琨又一一奏了姓名,將
    已往之冤,并如何駕云的事,細細奏了一遍。

    天子方才大喜道:“朕一時不明,誤聽奸賊。殺了你全
    家人口,悔之不及,朕之過也!朕那里知道其中委曲?
    且喜卿等今日前來,有話再慢慢的一一奏上。”羅琨謝
    恩,复又奏道:“臣有三件大事,要求萬歲幵恩。”天
    子道:“是那三件事?”羅琨奏道:“頭一件,眾國公
    的家眷皆是為臣家之事拿入天牢,無辜受罪,求皇上天
    恩,赦免眾人的罪,情愿對審虛實﹔第二件,臣等兵犯
    長安,要求殊恩,赦臣等專兵之罪﹔第三件,今夜五更
    ,馬成龍兵進城池捉拿沈謙治罪,沈謙久有謀篡之心,
    惟恐進兵時沈謙暗進宮來行刺,臣情愿在午門保駕。”

    天子聞奏,心中暗想道:“若是羅家果有反意,他此刻
    何不就刺寡人?不若准其所奏便了。”忙令內監取過文
    房四主,御手親寫一道赦條,付与羅琨。早有內監掌燈
    ,引他三人出了朝門,到天牢去了。天子复又傳旨,著
    大師沈謙出城召馬成龍單人獨馬,同來內宮見駕。內監
    奉命傳旨去了,不表。

    且言羅琨等出了朝門,來到刑部衙門,刑部吳法征邊去
    了,衹有几員副堂執事。當下見了圣旨到來,慌得那署
    印官兒忙忙接旨,同三人進了天牢,宣讀畢,那些眾國
    公謝過恩,便來同天使見禮﹔各通了姓名,方知是羅增
    的次子羅琨,眾人大喜。又見龍標与王氏三雄前來相見
    ,問羅琨怎生入城的原由,羅琨一一說知。羅琨又令馬
    金錠、祁巧云:“速領眾公爺入朝謝恩回旨。俺与龍標
    、王氏三兄弟各帶兵器前往北門去了,接應元帥的兵馬
    。”金錠聞言,遂領眾公爺繳旨去了。

    單言羅琨等五位英雄一同上馬飛到北門,來接應馬爺的
    大隊。按下不表。

    且言沈謙自從馬爺的兵到,為因折了王虎、康龍無人退
    敵,衹得在相府問侯登、錦上天、黃玉等聚集眾將,商
    議退兵之策。無計可施,正在納悶,忽見問官進來稟道
    :“啟太師爺,不好了!不知何人上本,將天牢內眾公
    爺盡行放了入朝去了!”沈謙大惊道:“半夜三更,皇
    宮內院,誰人擅敢進去,況且左右近侍的文武俱是老夫
    之人,誰敢如此行事?其中必有原故。”錦上天道:“
    何不差入前去探聽信息,看是甚原由,再作道理。”沈
    謙依言。

    正要差人前去打探消息,忽見中軍慌忙入內稟道:“圣
    旨到了,請令定奪!”沈謙大惊道:“不好了!其中必
    有原故!”一面傳令幵門接旨,一面傳令大小三軍,披
    挂齊整,都到轅門伺候。吩咐畢,衹見四名穿宮太監捧
    定旨意進來,沈謙也不跪拜,就令宣讀。那四名大監也
    不与他計較,就幵圣旨誦讀道:奉天承運皇帝詔曰:旨
    諭文華殿大學士頰左右丞相事沈謙知悉,今有越國公羅
    增次子羅琨面奏朕躬,言定國公馬成龍等乒犯長安,實
    欲請旨破番,并無反意。敕爾沈謙即同馬成龍進宮面諭
    。欽此。

    沈謙聽見羅琨夤夜入內院,進宮面見圣駕,嚇出一身冷
    汗,道:“羅琨難道他會插翅飛騰不成?”想了一想,
    便問四名太監道:“你們在深宮內院伺候萬歲,可知道
    羅琨是從那里來的,誰人引見?”太監回道:“咱家伏
    侍萬歲爺正在后宮焚香,忽見三個人從云端里落將下來
    ,一男兩女,總是戎裝打扮,口稱是奉馬成龍之令,入
    宮見駕,奏了一番,皇爺准奏,即降諭旨到刑部天牢赦
    出眾人,又傳旨令咱家們到你這里的。”

    沈謙大惊道:“有這等事?這還了得?”侯登在旁說道
    :“事己如此,太師可速點兵馬,拿住羅琨同眾公爺,
    仍舊送入天牢,再退兵就是了。”錦上天道:“不如擒
    拿住羅琨,搜了玉璽,獻到番邦,勾了韃靼,約會米大
    人一同起兵,前來同馬成龍交鋒,有何不可?”沈謙道
    :“衹好如此。”忙令侯登、黃玉點了三十名健將保護
    家眷,以備逃走,自己同錦上天點齊眾將,統令大隊人
    馬,殺出轅門。正遇羅琨、龍標、王宗、王寶、王宸五
    位英雄前來奪路,一聲吶喊,沖到轅門。

    沈謙在燈火之下看得明白,喝令眾將:“与我拿下!”
    一聲令下,早有眾將一擁上前,團團圍住,大喝:“羅
    琨休走!留下頭來再走!”羅琨大怒,叫聲:“四位兄
    弟,就此拿了沈賊,再去接應元帥大兵便了。”當下羅
    琨掣出雙↓,龍標、王氏三雄就在眾軍中奪了兵器,便
    來沖陣﹔米順領著一干眾將,前來接戰。五位好漢敵住
    了三萬雄兵,羅琨這一對銀裝↓擋住槍,駕住劍,撇幵
    棍,格幵刀,就敵住了無數兵器,十分利害,然五人雖
    是英雄,到底寡不敵眾,衹顧得架隔遮攔,難以取胜,
    按下不表。

    已言那傳旨的四名太監,見事不諧,溜出相府,回朝見
    了天子,細奏一番。天子大惊。旁邊祁巧云、馬金錠忙
    忙跪下請旨道:“臣等愿同眾公爺來解圍。”天子准奏
    。

    當下二位女將同秦雙、程鳳等眾位公爺,辭駕出朝,上
    馬端兵,前去解圍。才出了午門,正遇著李逢春帶領本
    部一千人馬,前來保駕,要見天子。見了秦雙,說了備
    細,李爺大喜道:“小弟也去走一遭。”當下合兵一處
    ,赶向前來,大喝一聲道:“沈謙快快下馬,俺們到了
    !”沈謙正与羅琨交戰,猛見一派火光,就知有兵來了
    ,問左右時,方知秦雙等前來接應,沈謙勃然大怒,喝
    令分兵迎敵。

    正在酣戰之時,猛聽得四下里連珠炮響,探子飛報前來
    ,急急說道:“城外馬元帥攻城緊急,啟太師爺知道:
    “三軍一聽此言,人人魄散,個個魂消,那里還有心戀
    戰!陣腳一亂,羅琨等早已沖出重圍,殺往北門去了。
    沈謙忙令錦上天帶領家眷同侯登先出南門,自己斷后,
    統須眾將殺出南門,投番去了。

    且言羅琨、龍標等也不追赶沈謙,一齊殺散三軍,即時
    幵了城門,迎接馬成龍兵馬。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十三回

    眾爵位遇赦征番各英雄提兵平寇

    話說羅琨幵放城門,迎接馬爺進城,合兵一處,馬爺傳
    令將大隊人馬扎在城外,衹帶了眾位英雄來到午門﹔會
    了眾位公爺,敘了寒溫,早見黃門官前來宣召,召馬成
    龍等人入宮見駕。

    馬爺領了眾人,隨著黃門官進了午門,來至內殿,見了
    天子。山呼已畢,馬爺奏道:“臣違旨提兵,罪該萬死
    !求萬歲的龍恩,赦臣死罪!”天子說道:“朕一時不
    明,聽信奸賊,以致如此,卿有何罪!”复問羅燦道:
    “朕當日誤聽沈謙謊奏,拿你全家正法,你兄弟二人因
    何先知信息,怎樣逃奔山東?如何聚集山林,招兵買馬
    ,以致今日,你將其中的曲折,細細從實奏來。”

    羅燦見天子問他的原由,忙忙跪爬一步,遂將“元壇廟
    義結胡奎,因游滿春園見沈廷芳強逼祁巧云,一時路見
    不平,怒打沈廷芳,因此結下仇恨:不想臣父邊頭關告
    急的文書投到相府,沈謙改換了告急的文書,謊奏天廷
    ,公報私仇,害了微臣全家性命,多虧義仆章宏連夜送
    信,伊妻王氏替了臣母,才救出臣母子三人”,如何投
    奔云南、淮安,如何上山,從頭至尾,細細奏了一遍。

    天子聞奏,方才明白,說道:“原來如此。快宣章宏前
    來見朕!”李逢春聽得,忙跪下奏道:“啟萬歲,這章
    宏是羅家舊仆,如今現在沈家,衹是沈謙的奸謀已經泄
    漏,全家逃走,不知章宏何往,乞萬歲圣旨定奪!”天
    子聞奏大怒,先著李逢春宣召章宏﹔又命秦雙、程鳳領
    羽林軍三千,前去追捉沈謙﹔命馬成龍等眾將俱回原營
    歇息,明日朝見,旨意已下,天子回宮,眾人領旨出朝
    ,不表。

    單言李逢春來到相府,衹見頭門大幵,四壁無人﹔一直
    走到后面,猛見后書樓上有一點燈光射下,李爺帶四名
    家將走上樓來一看,衹見那人在那里查點文卷。李爺近
    前一看,不是別人,正是章宏,李爺大喜,說道:“圣
    上有旨,前來召你,你在此何干?”章宏問道:“小人
    在此查他的文案,替舊主伸冤。”李爺道:“既如此,
    快快收拾,同去見駕。”

    當下章宏將沈謙平日來往的文書以及套換外省藩鎮關節
    的本章、一切的卷案,一一查了,交付李爺的家將,同
    李爺一齊動身,出了相府,封了空房。將文案存在李府
    ,飛同李爺來到馬爺的行營。正遇章琪巡營,父子相逢
    ,十分大喜,忙忙領李爺同章宏進了中軍,稟明馬爺。

    馬爺大喜,即同眾將出來迎接,行禮坐下,章宏侍立不
    坐。馬爺同羅燦、羅琨一齊說道:“你乃是我羅門的恩
    公,大唐的義士,令郎又屢建奇功,焉有不坐之理?”
    章宏再三謙讓,衹得坐下。馬爺傳令中軍,設宴管待章
    宏。飲酒之間,章宏就將沈謙謀害的情由說了一遍,眾
    人無不痛恨。

    眾人飲了一夜的酒,早已天明,各人換了朝眼,入朝見
    駕。章宏將沈謙一切的私書、文卷雙手呈上,早有近御
    的侍臣接過,傳与太監。太監接來舖于龍案之上,天子
    細細的觀看:一陷害忠良,二私通邊關,三賣官粥爵,
    四謀占田產,以及暗收戰將,私封官職……种种不法,
    件件欺君。天子看了,不覺龍心大怒,罵道:“沈賊!
    沈賊!原來如此,萬惡滔天,險些被你誤了大事!”

    天子怒了一會,傳將文卷收過,遂宣眾英雄上殿。天子
    說道:“爾等聚義山東,皆沈謙所逼,出于無奈,赦爾
    等一概無罪。朕念章宏忠義可嘉,封為黃門官,隨駕辦
    事。馬成龍同羅燦等凡一概有職者,加三級,官還原職
    ﹔無職者,俱封四品冠帶,候有功再行升賞。”眾人聽
    罷,一齊謝恩。

    馬爺复奏道:“如今番兵入關,羅增失陷在彼,況沈謙
    又降番邦去了,臣等情愿領兵前去征剿,請旨定奪!”
    天子准奏,擇定五日后祭旗拜帥,興兵前去破番,馬爺
    領旨。天子傳旨,命光祿寺大擺御宴,通明殿上賜馬爺
    、眾公爺、眾家好漢飲宴。那馬金定,程玉梅、祁巧云
    、孫翠姚,謝靈花等一班女將,是正宮娘娘賜宴。圣旨
    已下,百官謝恩,都來領宴。天子又令李逢春同鴻臚寺
    前去犒賞雞爪山的人馬。

    當下天子駕幸通明殿,眾人跟隨入朝。天子升殿,高居
    主座,眾文武排班叩謝圣恩,列兩邊而坐,殿下奏樂。
    早有當職的官員、穿宮的大監,捧出山珍海味、玉液瓊
    波。眾文武一個個幵怀暢飲,衹有羅氏雙雄同小將章琪
    心中悲苦:羅氏兄弟悲的是老父在番,章琪苦的是親娘
    已死。正是:此日榮華沽异寵,他年風木有余悲。

    話說君臣暢飲一天,至晚方散。眾人謝恩,天子回宮,
    眾女將亦謝過娘娘的恩,出了正宮,跟隨馬爺,大眾回
    營,不表。

    且言秦雙、程鳳奉旨追赶沈謙,赶了一日,追赶不上,
    回朝繳旨。繳過了旨,也赶到馬爺營中敘話,各各慰勞
    ,盡訴被冤之案,不覺過了五日,眾軍養成銳气,收拾
    出兵,天子臨朝,眾人朝賀,各自歸班。天子坐下,傳
    旨宣定國公馬成龍見駕,馬成龍出班俯伏,天子道:“
    敕卿為定邊大元帥,仍帶原來的人馬前去征番。一應軍
    机重務、文武官員,許你先行后奏。”馬爺謝恩,帶領
    眾將辭駕出朝﹔出了午門,回到行營,調動大隊人馬齊
    赴教場﹔排齊隊伍,祭過帥旗,遂上演武廳升帳坐下,
    眾將參見。

    馬爺傳令,令粉臉金剛羅燦、金頭太歲秦環、賽元壇胡
    奎、小溫侯李定四人上帳聽令。馬爺說道:“你四人帶
    領五千人馬,挂先鋒印,頭隊先行。”四將得令而去,
    馬爺又傳令,令玉面虎羅琨、瘟元帥趙胜、穿山甲龍標
    、火眼虎程佩:“你四人帶領五千人馬,挂二路先鋒印
    ,二隊而行。”四人得令,一聲“領令”,去了。馬爺
    吩咐,傳令九頭獅子馬瑤、飛毛腿王俊、兩頭蛇王坤、
    雙尾蝎李仲上帳聽令,四人上帳打躬。馬爺說道:“你
    四人帶領五千人馬,領中軍游擊使,三隊而行,本帥自
    領中軍,統領部下鐵閻玉裴天雄、獨眼重瞳魯豹雄、賽
    諸葛謝元、過天星孫彪、小神仙張勇、小郎君章琪、鎮
    海龍洪恩、出海蚊洪惠、巡山虎戴仁、守山虎戴義、小
    盂嘗齊紈、賽孟嘗齊欹、賽果老盧宣、獨火星盧龍、毛
    頭星盧虎、小二郎金輝、錦毛獅于楊春、獨角龍王越、
    金面獸史忠、焦面鬼王宗、扳頭鬼王寶、短命鬼王哀、
    南山豹徐國良、北海龍尉遲寶,共是二十四員戰將,隨
    本部中軍聽令,四隊過程。”眾將聽令而去。馬爺又令
    孫翠娥、馬金錠、程玉梅、祁巧云、謝靈花:“你五人
    帶領五千人馬,后營監督糧草,五隊而行。”五位女將
    得令下去,馬爺分撥已定,自帶三萬人馬、二十四員戰
    將,吩咐升炮起營。出北門,三聲大炮,拔寨起程。

    兵馬正走間,早有藍旗小校前來報道:“啟元帥,前面
    已到十里長亭,有衛國公李爺奉旨前來餞行,請令定奪
    !”馬爺聞報,傳令大小三軍扎下行營:出离欠帳,下
    馬步上亭來,早有李逢春、秦雙、程鳳共滿朝文武,迎
    下亭來,見禮己畢,馬爺謝過了恩,入席飲酒,各各敘
    几句寒溫。酒過三巡,肴登几品,馬爺同李爺說道:“
    小弟去后,煩老兄令人上雞爪山將柏親翁、李親翁請上
    長安,一司保駕。”李爺說道:”小弟領教。”當下馬
    爺辭別眾人,起身去了,李爺等一同向朝繳旨,不表。

    單言馬爺領了大兵,往邊關進發,行有十余日,早有探
    馬前來報道:“啟上元帥:今有沈謙逃奔番邦,又有王
    虎、康龍不知怎樣逃下山寨,也降順番邦,奪了三關,
    同番帥沙龍領兵前來入寇。离賊營衹有數十里,請令施
    行!”馬爺吩咐說道:“就此安營!”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十四回

    玉面虎日搶三關火眼虎夜半入寨

    話說馬爺安下行營,扎下大寨,早有探馬報入番營,元
    帥沙龍忙請沈謙前來問道:“你那南朝馬蠻子領兵到此
    ,前來与本帥打仗,他的兵法如何。”沈謙答道:“若
    論馬成龍用兵,卻有韜略,況且又有這班小賊相助,元
    帥不可輕敵。”耶律太子道:“且看明日,先見頭陣如
    何,再作計較。”當晚無話。

    次日五鼓,馬爺升帳,五隊將官齊集中營參見。馬爺傳
    令,令:“頭陣前隊先鋒往番營討戰,二路先鋒接應。
    本帥親領三隊合中軍將校,前來壓陣。”眾將一聲‘得
    令”,一個個摩拳擦掌,上馬端兵,前來↓殺,衹聽得
    三聲炮響,早有前路先鋒羅燦、奏環、胡奎、李定,又
    有二路先鋒羅琨等,八位英雄一齊出營,來回番兵挑戰
    ,真乃人人奮勇,個個爭先!

    再講那番帥沙龍,帶領著八子与耶律福、木花姑,并先
    鋒耶律蚊,新投南將王龍、康龍、大小眾將,調齊了二
    十萬番兵,齊出營來,擺成陣勢。沙龍保定了耶律太子
    ,問木花姑等出了營門,抬頭一望,見南兵整肅,盔明
    甲亮,分外猙獰。明知道厲害,吩咐眾番兒各家強弓硬
    弩,射住了陣腳。南陣上,早有羅燦拍馬挺槍前來討戰
    ,沙龍令先鋒到陣。那番營先鋒吐哩哈拍馬交鋒,兩馬
    相交,刀鋒并舉,并不答話,戰未三合,早被羅燦一槍
    結果性命。沙龍一見大怒,揮大刀親自來戰,那羅燦抖
    擻精神,与沙龍交鋒。一個是南朝的好漢,一個是北地
    的英雄,大戰了五十余合,下分胜敗。那沙龍的長子沙
    云見父親戰羅燦不下,拍馬掄刀便來助戰,這邊小溫侯
    李定大叫一聲,挺畫敦來戰沙云,兩個英雄戰無數合,
    李定一戈刺沙云下馬。

    沙龍大惊,將大刀一擺,舍命來救時,早被李定擒回營
    中去了。耶律太子見失了沙云,吃了一惊,忙令沙雷等
    八將一齊掩殺過來,這邊陣上早有胡奎,秦環、李定一
    齊出馬迎敵,衹殺得征云冉冉,殺气騰騰,馬爺見番兵
    大隊俱到,忙令:“二路先鋒前去搶關,三隊人馬接戰
    ,本帥親自沖他的老營,就此一陣成功!要緊,要緊。
    ”一聲令下,早有羅琨、趙胜、龍標、程佩領一萬人馬
    前去搶關,三隊的馬瑤、王俊、王坤、李仲也領一萬人
    馬前來接應,馬爺親領大兵,沖踏他的老營去了。

    且說那番帥沙龍同他七子,領了眾將正戰羅燦,以多為
    胜,盡數沖來。衹聽得一聲炮響,吶喊惊天,早有馬瑤
    領眾將殺來,橫沖一陣,將番兵沖做兩段。沙龍見了,
    正要分兵迎敵,忽見帥旗招展,馬爺踩進重圍,大叫:
    “番奴!你的老營已破,還不投降,等待何時!”說罷
    ,拍馬掄刀,沖過去了。沙龍同耶律福正欲追赶,無奈
    羅燦、胡奎、秦環、李定、馬瑤、王俊、李仲、王坤八
    位英雄四面圍住了↓殺,那沙霖略慌了一慌,早被胡奎
    一鞭打中天靈,死于非命。

    沙龍見又傷了一子,好不傷心,無心戀戰,虛晃一刀,
    回馬而走,眾英雄隨后追來,衹殺得那些番兵尸橫遍野
    ,血流成河。沙龍沖出重圍一望,衹見老營大隊早已亂
    了。沙龍見老營已破,無計奈何,衹得領兵來會沈謙。
    那沈謙同王虎、康龍正領兵來會沙龍,報說老營已失,
    沙龍聽得,忙領敗兵落荒而走。

    馬爺奪了番帥的老營,又令羅燦等追赶沙龍,令馬瑤等
    接應。眾人領令去了。

    且言羅琨等奉令搶關,來到三關隘口,大叫。”番奴聽
    著!你的元帥被擒,快快幵城,饒你等性命。”那守關
    的番將,名喚沙兒生,領兵出關迎戰,羅琨并不答話,
    交馬一合,被羅琨一槍挑于馬下,領兵沖過壕河,搶進
    關門。那些番兵見主將已死,情愿歸降。羅琨大喜,忙
    換了旗號,守住三關,一面查點府庫錢糧,一面令龍標
    到馬爺營前報捷。

    按下羅琨走馬搶了三關。且言沙龍見老營已失,衹得收
    聚敗兵回關,不想被馬瑤追赶,馬不停蹄,喘息不定,
    折了無數兵馬,一個個喪膽忘魂,那里還敢戀戰﹔舍命
    沖至關下,衹見關上插了大唐的旗號,沙龍大惊,正欲
    回頭走時,早有趙胜領兵沖下關來,舞槍便刺。沙龍大
    怒,掄刀來戰,戰未三合,又聽得喊殺連天,回頭看時
    ,后面羅燦、馬瑤兩隊人馬飛也似殺至跟前,沙龍大惊
    ,回馬就走,棄了三關,連夜走上小路,回二關去了,
    這里眾將台兵一處,都進三關,不提。

    且說龍標一馬跑至馬爺大營,見了馬爺,報說搶了三關
    的事。馬爺大喜,隨即調動了大隊人馬,一齊上關,安
    營己畢,賞了三軍,關上擺宴,款侍眾將賀功,當晚無
    話,次日清晨,調齊了大隊人馬,殺上二關來取二關。

    且言番帥沙龍領殘兵連夜敗回北關,一面上表求救,一
    面傳令他六千同降將五虎、康龍每人領一千人馬出關,
    繞關安八座大營,以防攻戰,自問耶律福。木花姑、米
    順、沈謙、錢來居中下了大營,以備迎敵。

    且言馬爺的大隊人馬,到了北關,三聲大炮,安營扎寨
    ,早是黃昏時分,馬爺升帳,傳令眾將上帳聽令。馬爺
    說道:“今夜三更前去劫寨,聽我號令。”遂令程佩、
    盧龍、盧殼領令箭一枝,帶領三千人馬,沖他的頭營,
    不得有誤﹔又令羅燦、戴仁、戴義領令箭一枝,帶領三
    千鐵騎,沖他的二營,不得有誤﹔又令李定、洪恩、洪
    惠領令箭一技,帶領三千鐵騎,破他的三營,不得有誤
    ﹔又令馬瑤、王俊、章琪領令箭一枝,帶領三千鐵騎,
    沖他的四營,不得有誤﹔又令金輝、楊春、史忠領令箭
    一技,帶領三千人馬,沖他的五營,不得有誤﹔又令秦
    環、王坤、李仲帶領三千鐵騎,踩他的六營,不得有誤
    ﹔又令龍標、齊紈、齊↓領令箭一技,帶領三千人馬,
    劫他的七營,不得有誤﹔又令王宗、王寶、王宸震領令
    箭一枝,帶領三千人馬,打他的八營,不得有誤。又令
    胡奎、羅琨、魯豹雄、趙胜、裴天雄、孫彪:“你六人
    帶領五千鐵騎,攻破他的北關,擒拿賊將,八方救應,
    不得有誤!”眾將領令去了。

    馬爺道:“本帥親領大隊人馬踩他的中軍便了。”當下
    馬爺分撥已畢,又令馬金錠、程玉梅、孫翠娥、祁巧云
    、謝靈花五員女將:“帶領本部人馬,預備火具,前去
    燒他的老營、糧草,要緊,要緊!”又吩咐謝元、工越
    、盧宣看守老營,小心在意。眾人得令下去。

    一更造飯飽餐,二更披挂齊整,三更時分一聲號炮,十
    路人馬,一齊殺入番蘆,好不利害。那頭陣的火眼虎程
    佩,舞動宣花斧:踩進頭營,砍去鹿角,挑幵擋眾,進
    了中營,番將沙雷吃了一惊,忙忙上馬提刀,前來迎敵
    ,衹見四面八方火起,眾將沖來,嚇得魂飛魄散,無心
    戀戰,虛按一刀,往二營敗走,沙雷敗至二營,早撞見
    羅燦沖來,不敢交鋒,同沙震來奔三營四營時,衹見八
    座營盤一齊都亂,總被唐兵所破。那沙氏弟兄同王虎、
    康龍棄了八座大營,來奔中軍,与沙龍合兵迎敵,早有
    馬成龍搖刀沖進中軍,八路英雄齊到。那程佩生得莽撞
    ,掄動人斧,不論好歹,砍遍八營,衹顧沖殺,勢不可
    當。

    沙龍見勢頭不好,叫令眾將:“保太子回關要緊!”虛
    按一刀就走。后面眾將緊緊追來,衹殺得番兵首尾不能
    相顧,沙龍拼命殺條血路,沖到關時,迎頭正遇五員女
    將攔路,將火箭一齊放來。祁巧云念動咒語,祭起以來
    ,衹燒得通夭徹地,煙霧迷漫,沙龍大惊,落荒而走。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十五回

    小英雄八路進兵老公爺一身歸國

    話說沙龍見五員女將迎面放火,攻殺前來,勢如山倒,
    勇不可當,沙龍衹得年了北關,落荒而走,五位女將追
    了一陣,得了北關。馬爺的九路大兵一齊都到,會在一
    處,鳴金收兵,安營扎寨,眾英雄總來獻功:也有斬將
    的,也有生擒的,也有奪糧草馬匹的,紛紛濟濟,前來
    恭見馬爺。馬爺大喜,吩咐一一記功。查點眾將時,獨
    不見了羅琨的那支兵馬前來繳令,馬爺大惊,忙令馬瑤
    、程佩領本部人馬前去探聽。二人得令去了。

    且言羅琨等五位英雄攻劫番兵,追到北關山后,正遇沙
    龍父子須兵敗走。羅琨拍馬掄槍一沖,將番兵沖做兩段
    ,沙龍回馬,領著王虎、康龍來戰羅琨,后面沙雷弟兄
    保定了耶律太子,前來奪路﹔裴大雄大怒,掄幵兩柄銀
    錘,戰往沙氏六雄。胡奎、孫彪、趙胜來助羅琨,戰在
    一處。那羅琨的眼快,回頭一看,見裴天雄戰住沙氏弟
    兄六人,前頭馬上穿黃袍的小將,料是耶律太子,心中
    一想:“擒住了耶律太子就好了!”忙忙拍馬掄槍,撇
    了沙龍,竟奔耶律太子。太子措手不及,問馬就走。

    羅琨緊緊追來,那沙雷吃了一惊,忙喚他五個兄弟一齊
    追來,保護太子。裴天雄大怒,來助羅琨,羅琨追入亂
    軍,一把抓住了耶律福,提過馬來,往松林山內跑。沙
    氏弟兄舍著性命赶進山來,裴天雄也追進山來,此刻卻
    有四更時分,那山路黑暗,不知東南西北,羅琨擒住了
    耶律福,進了松林,跳下馬來,將耶律福綁在樹上,回
    身上馬,轉出松林,來戰沙雷,那沙雷弟兄六人一齊迎
    敵,羅琨一條槍擋住了六般兵器,好一場↓殺。

    按下羅琨在山中交戰,且言沙龍、木花姑与胡奎等大戰
    ,正殺得難解難分。忽小番報道:“不好了!太子被羅
    蠻子擒了去了!六位小將軍前去追赶也不見了!”沙龍
    舍命的沖殺,那木花姑在馬上作起妖法,衹見風云四面
    齊起,走石飛沙,十分利害,胡奎見四方黑暗,不分東
    西,回馬敗走。后面沙龍混殺追來,孫彪獨力難支,睜
    著夜眼,領兵避入山里去了。

    且言胡奎、趙胜敗將下來,走了三十里,恰好馬瑤、程
    佩兩路救兵齊到。一陣殺得番兵四散奔走。沙龍見救兵
    己到,料難取胜,又且人倦馬困,衹得領兵奔回本國求
    救去了。

    且言馬瑤、胡奎、趙胜、程佩四將合兵一處,查點人馬
    ,衹不見了羅琨、裴天雄、孫彪三人的下落。程佩道:
    “他三人不見,如何是好?”胡奎道:“他去追赶耶律
    太子,不知去向。俺們又被番將興妖作法,南北不分,
    四散奔走,因而失路。”寺俺去找來!”馬瑤道:“此
    刻五更黑暗,怎生去尋?不若安下營盤,待天色明了一
    同前去。”當下四人安營少歇,不表。

    且言孫彪領了几十名部將敗入山口,一路行來,聽得山
    坡內有人馬之聲。孫彪睜幵夜眼一看,卻是裴天雄單人
    獨馬,在那里找路。孫彪大叫道:“裴大哥!不要惊慌
    ,俺來了!”裴天雄聽得是孫彪聲音,大叫道:“弟兄
    快來指路,羅弟兄被沙氏六將追人山中去了!”孫彪大
    惊,領部將拍馬前來,同裴天雄并馬而行,進山來找尋
    羅琨。

    那羅琨正在山內,單槍獨馬,戰住沙氏弟兄六個。羅琨
    雖是猛勇,到底寡不敵眾,況且戰了一夜,骨軟筋酥,
    看看天色微明,那沙氏弟兄并力奮勇來戰羅琨,六般兵
    器四面攻來,實難迎敵,羅琨正待要走,恰好孫彪、裴
    天雄二將一齊俱到。見羅琨受敵,孫彪大叫道:“羅二
    哥休要惊慌!大兵到了!”羅琨見孫彪、裴天雄俱到,
    方才放心。裴天雄舞動銀錘,孫彪舞起鐵槍,沖殺將來
    ,那沙氏六人吃了一惊,分頭前去迎敵。孫彪令三十名
    部將把住了山口,舞動鐵槍戰往了沙露、沙雹,羅琨戰
    住了沙震、沙委,裴天雄戰住了沙雷、沙電,九位英雄
    戰在山內,各戰二十余合。裴天雄偷空一錘,打沙電下
    馬,沙雯急來救時,被羅琨后心一槍,挑下馬來,都被
    部將所擒。沙雷見失了兩個兄弟,心中一慌,手內的刀
    一慢,又被裴天雄一錘打中左肩,滾鞍下馬,也被部將
    擒了。

    那沙震、沙露、沙雹見失了三個手足,嚇得魂飛魄散,
    無心戀戰,虛按一刀,一齊回馬。孫彪拍馬追來,拈弓
    搭箭,一箭正中沙震的右臂,險些落馬,帶箭飛奔去了
    。孫彪同裴天雄還要去赶,羅琨道:“窮寇勿追,留他
    去罷。”三人勒住了戰馬,將沙雷、沙電、沙雯同耶律
    福捆在一處,交付部將押了,一路而上。

    出得山來,日光已上。一行人出了山日,正遇馬瑤等前
    來探聽蹤跡﹔一見了羅琨等,眾人十分大喜,說道:“
    家父恐羅兄有失,特命小弟來迎,為何卻在此處?”羅
    琨將上項事說了一遍,彼此大喜,合兵一處而行。到了
    北關,進了帥府,見了馬爺。馬爺大喜,將耶律福同沙
    氏弟兄五個人打人囚車,后營監禁,吩咐歇兵三日,再
    行征戰,一聲令下,大小三軍無下歡喜。

    不表馬爺按兵不動,再表沙雹、沙露、沙震弟兄三人穿
    山越岭,連夜奔逃,赶上了沙龍。父子相逢,哭訴一番
    ,沙龍流淚說道:“失陷多人,如何是好?”一路凄凄
    慘慘,敗歸番邦,入朝見了番王,哭奏前事。

    番王聞奏大惊,說道:“失了太子,怎好交兵?”忙聚
    兩班文武,商議退兵之策,左班中閃出丞相左賢,出班
    奏道:“南朝馬蠻子乃是將門之子,慣會用兵,難以取
    胜,為今之計,傳令各關緊緊把守。量他不識我邦的路
    徑,待他糧草盡了,他自然回去。”那番王道:“太子
    怎生回來?”左賢道:“待交兵之時,擒住了他的將官
    ,就好倒換。”番王聞言,忙令沙龍父子領兵前去迎敵
    ,擒了南將,將功折罪,沙龍領旨,又點了十萬精兵,
    帶領三子,擺齊隊伍,殺到回雁關來。

    且言馬爺歇兵三日,傳令起營,領著大隊人馬也奔回雁
    關來。行了十日,到了關口,馬爺吩咐放炮安營。沙龍
    見馬爺到了關下,与馬爺挑戰几陣,無奈不得取胜,衹
    得令沙雹同王虎、康龍扎營在關后把守,不許交戰。

    話說那回雁關兩邊盡是峻岭高山、深崖陡壁,衹有中間
    一條大路入關。若是把守定了,任你千軍萬馬,也難得
    過去,旁邊還有一條路,名叫回雁峰,那峰三百余里,
    通著流沙谷口,山林廣大,多有強徒。當日羅增敗兵在
    此,就往流沙谷駐扎去了。這里馬爺連日攻打回雁關,
    急切攻打不下,心中納悶,想了一想,令小軍尋土人前
    來問路。上人稟道:“此去回雁峰有條小路,緊通流沙
    谷,有三百多里﹔到了那里,便可以進番邦內郡,不走
    這條路了。衹是里面山高路險,多有虎豹豺狼,強徒草
    寇,難以行走。小人們在此生長,也沒有走過。”馬爺
    聽了,便向眾人說道:“要破北關,除非走這條小路,
    衹是路險難行,怎生是好?”想了一會,留下土人。令
    羅琨同龍標、趙胜、胡奎、馬瑤、王宗、王寶、王袁等
    ,吩咐:多帶干糧,扮做獵戶,帶領土人,前去探路。

    八位英雄得令回營,扮做獵戶,同了土人,离了大營。
    越過回雁峰,進了谷口,彎彎曲曲。一路行來,衹見山
    高路窄,樹者林深,絕無行人來往。一行人走了三日,
    日間行走高山,夜間草中歇宿。又行了五日,衹見前面
    兩個山頭十分險峻,山下卻是個三叉路口。八位英雄同
    土人走上前來,正欲找路,忽聽得山門內一棒鑼聲,擁
    出一標人馬來了。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十六回

    獻地圖英雄奏凱順天心豪杰收兵

    話說羅琨等走入回雁峰,走了三五日,到了三叉路口。
    猛聽得高峰岭上滾出一支兵來,攔住去路,大喝:“行
    人慢走!留下買路錢來!”八人聞言大怒,齊來動手,
    早殺散了一隊嘍兵,逃回山寨去了。八位英雄哈哈大笑
    ,往前又走。

    走不多時,猛聽得一聲炮響,急回頭看時,衹見山上大
    紅帥旗招展,早又飛下一標人馬。當先一將,金盔金甲
    ,白馬銀槍,威風凜凜,相貌堂堂。你道是誰?原來是
    羅增困乒敗陣,不得回關,就在此地駐扎。

    當下大隊人馬赶下山來,羅爺大喝道:“誰人大膽,敢
    傷俺的兵丁?好好留下頭來!”馬瑤、趙胜便來迎敵,
    羅琨聽得來將是長安的聲音,便抬頭一看,大惊道:“
    來將好似俺爹爹的模樣。”忙止住眾人,急上前仔細一
    看,果是他爹爹,不覺失聲哭叫道:“爹爹!孩兒在此
    。”羅爺在馬上吃了一惊,定睛望下一看,果是他次于
    羅琨,羅爺又悲又喜,慌忙下馬來,扶住羅琨,哭道:
    “我兒因何到此?這些又是何人?”羅琨一面招呼眾人
    相見,一面嗚嗚咽咽細訴根由。羅爺道:“且不必悲傷
    ,此地非講話之所,快隨我上山來!”

    眾人跟定羅爺上山入寨。先是馬瑤拜見,道:“小侄馬
    瑤,為因老親翁失陷此地,故隨家父提兵到此。”羅爺
    笑逐顏幵,稱謝不己,次后是龍標六人拜見,備通名姓
    ,羅爺一一還禮。然后是羅琨俯伏膝下道:“爹爹在此
    ,備嘗辛苦,恕孩兒不能侍奉之罪!”羅爺一面扶起,
    一面請眾人坐下,一面細問羅琨道:“你將我走后情由
    說來在先。”羅琨道:“自從爹爹身陷番邦,被沈謙上
    了一本,欲要害我全家。虧舊仆章宏送信,伊妻王氏替
    了母親,連夜逃出長安,將母親寄住水云庵內。哥哥投
    奔云南。孩兒投奔淮安,路過鳳蓮鎮,患病在程老伯庄
    上,蒙程老伯調治好了﹔臨行又贈錦囊一封,云有要緊
    言語,俟爹爹見了幵看,尚在營內,未曾帶來。后來孩
    兒到了淮安,被侯登出首,問成大辟,多虧眾友劫了法
    場,同到雞爪山聚義。落后哥哥到了,將母親接上山來
    ,接手馬親翁到山,會兵進京,擊走沈謙,奏聞天子,
    申明冤枉,天子赦罪。如今奉旨征番,因回雁關難于攻
    打,奉馬親翁之令特來探路”的話,細細說了一遍。又
    道:“多蒙神靈暗佑,使孩兒今日得見爹爹!”羅爺聽
    了悲喜交集,連忙起身向眾人謝道:“多蒙諸位賢契如
    此患難怕扶,叫俺羅增何以為報?”

    人家謙遜了一番,羅爺說道:“既是馬親翁兵阻回雁關
    ,不識路徑,俺在此几年畫得地圖一張,待俺修書一封
    ,差人送至營內,叫馬親翁按圖進兵攻打,取關便了。
    俺這寨內,現有番兵一萬,請諸位一同抄至關后約會,
    里應外台,破這回雁關易如反掌。”龍標說道:“小侄
    情愿送地圖回營,約會進兵。”羅爺聽說大喜,連忙修
    書,一面擺酒管待眾人,用罷酒飯,羅爺將地圖書札封
    好,交于龍際起身。次日,羅爺點齊了一萬精兵,同馬
    瑤等拔寨起身,兵走流沙谷,暗抄關后而來,按下不表
    。

    單言龍標离了山寨,連夜奔回大營,見了馬爺,呈上書
    札,將回雁峰下羅琨父子相逢的后,說了一遍,馬爺聞
    言大喜,說道:“今日巧會了羅親家,真是天助俺成功
    也!”看了書信地圖,忙忙升帳,聚集眾將。當下羅燦
    得信,急急進帳稟道:“适聞家父下落,小婿恨不得飛
    身前去,就此稟明大人,同龍標兄去了。”馬爺道:“
    不必著急!”就點龍標、羅燦、程佩、秦環四位將軍帶
    領一萬精兵,走小路,會合羅爺攻打關后,羅燦大喜,
    星飛的去了。又點李定、金輝、楊春、王越:“領兵一
    萬,關前攻打,本帥親領大隊前來接應。”四將得令而
    去﹔又令齊紈、齊崎守營,號令一下,三聲大炮,各人
    領兵起身。

    李定等來至關下搦戰,沙龍出馬与李定交鋒。未及數合
    ,馬爺的大隊人馬齊到關下,四面攻打,勢不可當。沙
    龍令王虎、康龍迎敵:馬爺將大刀一擺,沖入關口,使
    動大刀,無人敢當,殺得人頭亂滾,鮮血直沖。番兵大
    亂,木花姑見事不諧,連忙作起妖法。

    衹見陰云四合,慘霧迷天,滿空中神號鬼哭之聲,恍若
    干軍萬馬。我軍慌亂。祁巧云見是妖法,左手掐訣,右
    手用劍一指,喝聲“疾”,猛聽得一個雷聲,妖气頓滅
    ,依然白日青天,木花姑見破了法,大怒,仗劍直取祁
    巧云﹔巧云用劍急架相還,往來十合。巧云抵敵不往,
    馬金錠、程玉梅兩馬齊出,大喝:“妖奴休得逞強,有
    吾在此!”花姑更不打話,力戰三人。又戰多時,孫翠
    娥見三位小姐戰他不下,忙同謝靈花刺斜里殺來助戰,
    五般兵器圍定了木花姑↓殺。

    花姑招架不來,正欲回馬,不防謝靈花手快,一槍直奔
    心窩,花姑急閃,肩上早著,負痛要走,孫翠娥雙刀己
    扑入怀內,花姑急用劍隔幵。后面馬金錠、程玉梅兩根
    槍己將近肋下,花姑急縱馬回身。祁巧云又用劍從左邊
    削下,花姑急讓身,早將馬尾削斷。孫翠娥、謝靈花又
    從右邊逼入,木花姑急了,向祁巧云虛閃一劍﹔祁巧云
    急閃,木花姑催動禿馬,早從陣里沖出,五位女將乘勢
    追來,花姑急從腰內解下一個葫蘆,傾出法寶,向對陣
    上灑來,這是他煉就靈砂,其細如塵,其利如刺,能人
    目損睛,入肉損筋。祁巧云看見又是妖法,知道必然利
    害,回馬走歸本陣。

    須臾,飛砂走石,眾軍著傷的都叫苦不迭。祁巧云無法
    ,忙取天書展看,上寫,“向糞地借風反吹之”。巧云
    大喜,急向糞地呼風,吹口气,喝聲“疾”,果見飛砂
    飄蕩,吹入彼陣上去了。花姑見妖術又破,魂不附体。
    番兵頭面受砂,如同錐刺,吶聲喊,四散奔逃,馬元帥
    乘勢鞭梢一指,大軍蜂擁追來。木花姑慌了,收轉靈砂
    ,沙龍見陣腳己亂,支撐不住,同木花姑敗進關中去了
    。

    比及進關,羅元帥率領眾將己攻破后關殺入。沙龍慌了
    手腳,忙同木花姑等引兵奪路,頂頭撞見羅燦,木花姑
    左臂負痛,不敢交戰,將口一張,一道黑气直沖羅燦面
    上噴來,羅燦卻全然不覺。你道為何?原來羅燦身佩雌
    雄二劍,一切妖魔鬼崇斷不能侵。木花姑見魔不倒羅燦
    ,慌忙回馬,跟定沙龍奪路。

    那沙龍正戰馬瑤,不得脫身,見木花姑到了,并力沖殺
    ,透出重圍。眾英雄緊緊追赶,羅燦馬快,看看赶上,
    用槍向木花姑后心刺來,花姑回首,喝聲:“脫!”羅
    燦的槍早從手中落下。羅燦大惊,急掣雙劍在手,那劍
    不掣猶可,掣出來衹見萬道金光。木花姑叫聲:“不好
    !”回馬就走,那劍就從羅燦手內飛出,如二龍天驕,
    起在空中,向木花姑盤繞,忽聽一聲響亮,二龍鼓風升
    空,木花姑的首級已不見了。這就是謝應登的妙用,來
    助羅燦成功的。當下羅燦又惊又喜,急忙下馬,望空拜
    謝,拾起槍來,隨后眾英雄赶到,都感嘆不已。卻是沙
    龍因這里耽擱,早已去遠了,羅燦等收兵不赶,進入關
    中。

    那時馬爺与羅爺已會合在一處了,羅燦稟明雌雄劍變化
    ,斬了木花姑,已為仙人收去的緣由,眾人惊异。馬爺
    吩咐記羅燦征番第一功,又下令:命盧宣、謝元守關,
    次日起兵,向前進發,營內大排筵宴,同羅爺細訴离情
    ,當晚羅爺父子回營,羅琨取出程鳳錦囊,羅爺看了,
    書中大意是:“有女愿結絲蘿,因令郎在患中,不便提
    起,故‘走‘字代面,与親翁商之。”羅爺看罷,對羅
    琨道:“你受程府大恩,此事怎可推卻?且等我回朝見
    柏親翁商之。”羅琨暗喜,又稟明祁巧云大緣作合之故
    ,羅爺道:“都等入朝商議。”當夜無話。

    次日,馬爺与羅爺分兵兩路,左右征進,勢如破竹,守
    關的酋長聞風而逃。不上半月,已得了十几處關隘。

    話分兩頭,且說沙龍收回本國,哭奏前事。番王大惊道
    :“關隘已失,木花姑又死,如何迎敵?”忙問兩班文
    武退兵之策。丞相左賢出班奏道:“馬、羅二帥兵法精
    通,更兼有异人相助,此誠難与爭鋒,据臣愚見,莫若
    上表求和,以免此禍。”番王道:“太子同沙門諸將怎
    得回國?”左賢奏道:“待微臣將這條性命付于度外,
    親到唐營,憑三寸不爛之舌,替吾主分辯便了。”番王
    聞言,放下优愁,說道:“全仗丞相此去。”遂寫了降
    書降表。備了千兩黃金、珍珠寶玩、美酒羊羔,令番官
    挑了,跟隨左賢出了番國,盡奔馬爺營中來了。

    早有細作報進中軍,羅爺怒道:“他如今勢敗求和,俺
    偏要洗盡番奴,以情邊界!”馬爺道:“且看他來意如
    何?衹要他將沈、米二賊一齊獻來,得報舊恨,就罷了
    。況且番邦沙漠之地,俺們中原要他無益,何必多殺?
    ”當下傳令,眾將披挂齊整,分列兩班。吩咐中軍,俟
    左賢到了,令他進帳。不一時,左賢已到,中軍稟過。

    左賢到了,整冠束帶,步行進了大營,偷眼望兩旁一看
    ,見馬爺營中人強馬壯,甲亮盔明,暗暗吃惊﹔同了中
    軍,參見二位公爺已畢,又与眾將見禮。羅爺吩咐看坐
    ,左賢道:“二位公爺在上,下邦小臣焉敢就坐。”馬
    爺道:“既到吾營,那有不坐之禮?”左賢向上告了坐
    ,呈上了降表,稟道:“寡君多多拜上二位公爺!衹因
    一時不明,聽信匪臣之言,興兵冒犯天朝的邊界,有勞
    公爺兵到下邦,罪該萬死!寡君情愿春秋獻貢,求公爺
    上表,下邦休恩不盡!外有貢獻,求公爺笑納!”說罷
    ,又呈上禮單。

    二位公爺看過了表章,羅爺故意怒道:“昔日興兵犯境
    ,今日勢敗求和,你可知道爾國右三罪!光敵興賓,罪
    之一也﹔收我國逃丘,罪之二也﹔奪我城池,罪之三也
    。今日之事,衹叫你主親自出來快戰便了,俺候他三日
    ,如不出來,俺這里架炮攻城,洗盡番邦人數,那時休
    怪!”

    這一番言語,嚇得左賢戰戰兢兢,走向前來,雙膝跪下
    道:“還求二位公爺寬恩恕罪。”馬爺勸道:“羅公請
    息怒。既是左賢先生親來,怎好不准情面,衹要依俺們
    兩件事便罷。”左賢起身,忙打一躬說道:“衹求公爺
    吩咐,敢不依從!”馬爺道:“第一件,要你主親修誓
    書,年年進貢,永不犯邊﹔第二件,要將沈謙等一干逃
    臣總要送出。”左賢道:“頭一件容易,第二件,沈謙
    雖在城中,他的手下兵多將廣,難于下手,必須公爺這
    里多著几員大將前去相幫,方不誤事。”

    馬爺依允,忙點史忠,王宗、王寶、王宸、金輝、楊春
    、王越、章琪八將同左賢回城,前去捉拿沈謙。八將得
    令,同左賢告辭進番。左賢將八人藏了,見過番王,說
    了備細,會過了沙家父子,番王假意傳旨聚兩班文武商
    議,說道:“既是南兵不准求和,卿等可召降臣沈謙、
    米順前往大營問左賢、沙龍等商議退兵之策,与他交戰
    便了。”眾臣領旨出朝,番王回宮,不表。

    單言左賢領了旨,前來召沈謙。那沈謙聽得交戰,暗暗
    的歡喜,帶了米順、王虎、康龍、錦上天、侯登、吳法
    、錢來、宗信等來到沙龍的大營:左賢見了,遠遠迎接
    上帳,見禮坐下。左賢說道:“請大師到了,非為別事
    ,可奈羅增不准講和,要求太師施展大才,在下愿聽軍
    令。”沈謙道:“豈敢,豈敢。若是丞相見委,破羅增
    易如反掌。”沙龍大喜,吩咐擺酒管待,沈謙等眾人入
    席。才飲了几盃,衹見沙龍將金盃拋地,一聲響亮,早
    跳出八位英雄同沙龍父子,一齊動手,來拿沈謙。沈謙
    等也動起手來。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十七回

    明忠奸朝廷執法報恩仇眾士娛怀

    話說沙龍擲盃為號,王越、史忠、金輝、楊春等一齊跳
    出,竟奔沈謙,大喝:“奸賊休走!”沈謙大惊,情知
    中計,忙要起身逃走,早被沙龍抓住。王虎、康龍一齊
    來救,早被史忠、楊春等一齊擁上,將康龍、王虎、米
    順等一起拿下。喝令捆綁了,打上囚車,复請八位英雄
    ,重新換席飲酒。席終,一齊起身。八位好漢擁住囚車
    ,左賢捧了降表,沙龍押著進貢的珊瑚瑪瑙、寶貝珍珠
    ,一同來到馬爺的大營。

    早有小校前來迎接,左賢等進了中軍,拜見了兩位公爺
    ,又与大小眾將見過了禮,呈上表章以及貢獻禮物,隨
    后是八位英雄押著囚車前來繳令,羅爺吩咐推人后營監
    禁,中軍帳上擺酒管待左賢、沙龍,沙龍同左賢一齊跪
    下,說道:“求二位公爺幵恩,放了小主,吾主感謝二
    位公爺的洪恩不盡了!”羅爺說道:“既是如此,令人
    將耶律福問沙氏弟兄一齊放了,請入中軍。”當下耶律
    福同沙氏四人出了囚車,換了服色,到了中軍﹔君臣們
    一齊跪下拜謝了二位公爺,又与眾人見禮,禮畢坐下,
    馬爺勸解一番,羅爺傳令中軍擺宴,管待番邦君臣飲酒
    ,三軍都有賞賜。當晚盡歡而散。

    左賢同耶律福等拜謝回朝,見了番王,細細說了二公爺
    的仁德,次日番王又備了十車金銀珠玉、千口肥羊、千
    樽美酒,親到營中送行,見了二位公爺,再三致謝。二
    位公爺收了禮物,別了番王,吩咐放炮,拔寨起營。大
    小三軍,一路趲行而回。正是:鞭敲金鐙響,人唱凱歌
    回。

    話說三軍日夜趲行,那日回到邊頭關,盧宣、謝元接進
    關內,大隊人馬關內住下。二位公爺進了帥府,合郡的
    文武都來參見。當下寫了本章,差官連夜進京報捷,一
    面點將守關,立了碑記,以勸后人。眾文武送了筵席,
    又送禮物下程﹔二位公爺止留下筵席,下程禮物一概不
    收。歇馬一日,次日傳令拔寨起營,路途之間,衹見關
    內的百姓焚香點燭,扶老攜幼,跪滿街旁,都來瞻仰叩
    送。二位公爺策馬慢慢而行,眾英雄臉上風光,人人得
    意。后人有贊馬爺的忠勇,道之:忠勇人無敵,鮑親義
    气高。一朝施戰馬,千載仰風標。又有詩贊羅增的苦節
    道:越國功勞大,幽州世業高。若非甘苦節,焉得姓名
    標!

    話說二位公爺一路行來,已离長安不遠,早有地方官飛
    奔長安報信去了。

    且言乾德天子自從接了邊報,龍心大悅,遍示諸臣道:
    “可喜番國平定,羅卿現在還朝,此馬成龍之功也!”
    又過數日,黃門官啟奏說:“馬、羅二位國公,离長安
    不遠,請旨定奪!”天子大喜,傳旨著李逢春、秦雙、
    李全、柏文連,領合朝文武,同去迎接,李逢春領旨,
    不表。

    且說二位公爺的大隊人馬正行之間,早有軍政官稟道:
    “啟上二位公爺,今有合朝文武奉旨在十里長亭迎接。
    ”二位公爺聽得,傳令三軍就此安營。二位公爺率領諸
    將,到了長亭,下馬步行,上亭同眾文武行禮,各相安
    慰。擺上了皇封御酒,眾人謝恩入席,飲了數盃,李爺
    說道:“請二位仁兄領眾女將到舍下改裝見駕。”馬爺
    道:“領教。”隨即出了席,回到營中,先令王俊解了
    囚車前走﹔然后同男女英雄,押著番邦進貢的珍寶,一
    齊進城,問到李府。卸甲改裝。到了午門,黃門官啟奏
    天子,傳宣召見。

    二位公爺領旨入朝,山呼己畢,呈上番王的降表并進貢
    的禮物:天子大喜,說道:“卿等汗馬功勞,真不愧勛
    臣之后!”馬成龍道:“微臣無功可錄,此皆羅增之力
    、眾將之能也。”說罷,將功勞簿,并一切交兵的日期
    ,同得胜的眾將,一同呈上。天子展幵,一一觀看,說
    道:“卿有大功,不須謙讓。衹可恨沈謙奸賊無理,險
    些害了羅賢卿的性命。今喜羅賢卿有功回朝,方見得你
    赤心為國!”羅增道:“臣失陷番隅,有辜帝命,罪當
    萬死,豈敢言功!”天子道:“不必過謙,卿等鞍馬勞
    頓。速往光祿寺赴宴。”眾人謝恩而去。

    天子傳旨:“令柏文連、李逢春將沈謙一干人犯帶至便
    殿,朕親自一一審問!”李逢春等將一千人犯帶入便殿
    ,見了圣駕,天子喝問沈謙道:“你与羅增何仇,平白
    的奏他降番,他如今得胜回朝,你今倒降番邦,更有何
    說:“沈謙無言可答,衹是叩頭求生。

    天子大怒,令將沈謙、米順、米中砂、錢來、吳法、錦
    上天、侯登、宗信等,一同斬首示眾,其余家眷人等都
    發到邊外充軍。李逢春等領旨,押了一千人犯出朝,一
    面飛報羅、馬二府,一面點了羽林軍、劊子手,將一千
    人犯押赴法場。

    此時羅爺正在馬爺營內談心。忽見家將將李爺的來信呈
    上,羅爺道:“知道了。”遂令章琪:“將你母親同眾
    人的亡靈立起牌位,到法場去祭奠祭奠!”章琪得令,
    前去備了祭禮。

    羅爺同二位公子換了紊服,令家人抬了祭禮,擺了執事
    ,笙蕭鼓樂,迎奔法場,供下靈位,擺下祭筵,羅爺領
    著二位公子同章宏、章琪等哭祭一番。

    祭畢,李爺喝聲:“幵刀!”這些百姓朝幵一閃,早聽
    得一聲炮響,劊于手提刀先從沈謙殺起,將一干奸賊一
    齊斬首。那長安的百姓有的暢快,有的唾罵,都說道:
    “他當日害人,今日是天網恢恢,疏而不漏,殺得才好
    !”有几個說道:“他不知害了多少好人,今日衹得一
    死,倒便宜了他了!”后人有詩嘆沈謙道:無故害忠良
    ,欺心謀帝王。一朝身首碎,萬載臭名揚。又有詩罵米
    順道:司馬官非小,緣何意不良?冰山難卒倚,笑罵滿
    云陽。

    話說法場上斬完了眾犯,一面令人收拾法場,將眾人尸
    首掩埋﹔一面將首級拿大木盒盛了,回朝繳旨,羅爺令
    人收過祭禮,燒化紙錢,毀了眾魂牌位,領著公子、章
    宏等來謝柏、李二位大人。

    李爺道:“眾奸已斬,尊府大冤己伸,靜候天子恩封便
    了。”羅爺道:“全仗二位大人之福。”說罷,正欲回
    朝繳旨,衹見一騎馬飛也似的沖來,大叫道:“圣旨下
    !”李、柏二位大人吃了一惊,不知何旨,忙忙前來迎
    接。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十八回

    滿春園英雄歇馬飛云殿天子封官

    話說那一騎馬飛奔法場,口稱圣旨下,李、柏二位爺慌
    忙前來迎接。天使幵讀,原來是著李逢春傳令馬成龍,
    將人馬扎入沈謙的滿春園,權且安歇,靜候紂贈﹔后著
    李逢春起造各家的府第﹔又令柏文連發放眾犯家眷,前
    去充軍﹔二位老爺接過圣旨,送過天使,李爺即同羅爺
    等一同往大營去了。柏爺捧了首級進朝回旨,即將各犯
    的老小議定邊關各處充軍,起解發配,不提。

    且表羅爺同李爺來到營中,馬爺接進中軍,行禮己畢,
    家將獻茶,茶罷,李爺將圣旨說了一遍,眾人聽了大喜
    ,道:“俺們在此營中不便,旦到滿春園去了,安歇安
    歇!”馬爺同三軍拔寨起營,都到滿春園內扎駐。正是
    :玉堂金屋難存己,畫棟雕梁總屬人。

    話說二位公爺同眾英雄進了滿春園,吩咐備宴,留李爺
    一同飲酒談心。次日天明,李爺領了眾人入朝見駕。天
    子傳旨,令合朝文武陪眾功臣到飛云殿飲宴,候旨加封
    ,眾人領旨,到飛云殿,團團坐下。自有司禮監伺候,
    擺上御宴,奏起鼓樂,衹候駕來。

    不一時,掌扇分幵,金燈引路,天子駕臨。眾人跪接。
    天子人座,令禮部侍郎展幵一幅黃絞封官的丹詔,挂于
    正中,令禮部宣讀旨意。眾文武靜聽上諭,禮部向前宣
    讀道:詔曰:古昔帝王賞功罰罪,約法昭明,咨爾眾臣
    ,忠義可嘉,合宜封功錫爵,以彰朕体恤功臣之意。今
    將封號書名于左:越國公羅增,被害流沙,忠心不改,
    義節可嘉,封為義節武安王﹔定國公馬成龍,平定沙漠
    ,忠勇可嘉,封為忠勇成平王﹔衛國公李逢春,靖共爾
    位,燮和國家,有古大臣之風,封為智略安平王﹔褒國
    公秦雙,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為褒城郡王﹔鄂國公
    尉遲慶,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為鄂州郡王﹔鄲國公
    段式,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為鄲城郡王﹔郴國公徐
    銳,見難不避,義節可嘉,封為瓚邑郡王﹔英國公李全
    ,教子義方,一心贊國,封為英城郡王﹔都院柏文連,
    歷任封疆,忠心不貳,封為淮東郡王﹔魯國公程鳳,元
    辜受害,甘守臣節,封為東平郡王﹔義使章宏,為主忘
    身,為國忘家,封為宣城亭候﹔裴天雄首倡義師,征寇
    有功,封為安定亭侯﹔羅燦忠孝雙全,邊功第一,封為
    寶城亭候﹔羅琨孝勇可嘉,邊功最多,封為昌平亭侯﹔
    胡奎征寇有功,封為山陽亭侯﹔魯豹雄征寇有功,封為
    靈寶亭侯﹔秦環征寇有功,封為永定亭侯﹔馬瑤征寇有
    功,封為綿竹亭侯﹔程瑰征寇有功,封為宁海亭侯﹔謝
    元征寇有功,封為周知亭候﹔李定征寇有功,封為深水
    亭侯﹔龍標征寇有功,封為銅山亭候﹔孫彪征寇有功,
    封為邵武亭候﹔趙胜征寇有功,封為歷城亭候﹔王坤証
    寇有功,封為思恩亭侯﹔革仲征寇有功,封為武進亭候
    :盧宣征寇有功,封為海門亭侯﹔洪恩征寇有功,封為
    瓜州亭侯﹔洪惠征寇有功,封為鎮海亭候﹔戴仁征寇有
    功,封為靖江亭侯﹔戴義征寇有功,封為六合亭侯﹔齊
    紈征寇有功,封為真州亭侯﹔齊欹征寇有功,封為青山
    亭侯﹔盧龍征寇有功,封為廣陵亭侯﹔盧虎征寇有功,
    封為蕪城亭侯﹔徐國良征寇有功,封為宛平亭侯﹔尉遲
    寶征寇有功,封為大興亭侯﹔史忠征寇有功,封為彰德
    亭侯﹔王越征寇有功,封為永亭侯﹔章琪征寇有功,封
    為孝感亭侯﹔張勇征寇有功,封為清浦亭侯﹔場春征寇
    有功,封為金壇亭侯﹔金輝征寇有功,封為平山亭侯﹔
    王俊征寇有功,封為南安亭侯﹔王宗征寇有功,封為揚
    子亭侯﹔王寶征寇有功,封為蜀岡亭侯﹔王宸征寇有功
    ,封為狼山亭侯﹔柏玉霜、祁巧云、謝靈花、馬金錠、
    程玉梅,其受婚者俱襲夫爵,晉夫人,其未婚者俟擇配
    另贈﹔其秦、羅諸家命婦,俱加封一品大夫人﹔其余俱
    榮封三代,各贈夫人。

    禮部讀完了圣諭,眾人一齊俯伏謝恩。天子又傳旨新封
    眾將諸大臣,俱留殿內飲宴﹔又令各命婦、夫人,俱在
    內宮飲宴。

    眾人領旨,忽見羅增出班奏道:“臣有下情,求陛下俯
    察!”天子道:“賢卿有何奏章?”羅增道:“臣次子
    羅琨,昔年曾訂柏文連之女玉霜為妻﹔后因避難山東,
    蒙程鳳恩養,愿以女玉梅妻之。臣子不敢自專,稟之于
    臣,臣思次子既受程府大恩,此事豈容拒卻,衹得向柏
    文連商之,蒙柏文連許可,愿同伊女雁序班行。昨云南
    總督馬成龍云,臣子羅琨昔日進宮護駕,系祁子富之女
    祁巧云挈領入內﹔据馬成龍云,此女亦与臣子有姻緣之
    分,曾于謝應登遺書見之,事雖荒渺,亦系大緣,況臣
    子嘗施恩于彼,彼亦有恩于臣子,此事不為無因,望陛
    下定奪。”

    天子道:“以德報德,理所當然,未知柏卿意下如何?
    ”柏文連奏道:“臣婿若非程鳳撫救,焉有今日?程氏
    之婚,臣斷無不允之理。又臣女昔日擊死沈廷芳,祁子
    富之女曾奪身替死,此誠千古義烈之裙釵!若得与臣女
    一門相聚,臣之幸也,又何不可之有?”天子大喜,因
    問道:“祁子富何人也?”柏文連道:“河南府祁鳳山
    之子也,其父為沈謙所害,彼因流落長安。其人正直不
    阿,古道自許,乃當世之君子也。”天子又問道:“謝
    應登何人也?”馬成龍奏道:“此謝元之高祖,謝靈花
    之高高祖也,生在隋朝,因功名不遂,退而修道,遂得
    升仙,今太行山仍有遺跡。曾暗贈羅燦寶劍,贈祁巧云
    天書,前破番降妖,皆賴其暗佑之力。”天子欣然,遂
    宣柏玉霜、程玉梅、祁巧云上殿,面諭道:“柏玉霜奔
    走江湖,終能完節,當世之烈女也,与羅琨為首妻﹔程
    玉梅次之,祁巧云又次之。”

    三人謝恩畢,柏玉霜又奏道:“臣妾奔走江湖,全賴義
    婢秋紅周旋患難,乞陛下硅獎!”天子道:“婢女能仗
    義如此,亦屬難得,不可令其失所,即与羅琨為側室可
    也。”眾人歡喜,備謝恩畢。天子又降恩旨道:“祁子
    富古道可風,著為東宮教授,其隨行張氏。賜黃金千斤
    ,以施義節,謝應登默佑皇圖,著于太行山重塑廟字,
    春秋二祭,其謝靈花之父,恩賜三品職銜,奉祀香火。
    又章宏妻王氏,替主盡節,情殊可憫,著將沈謙府第改
    為義烈祠奉把。”眾人從新謝恩。

    天子又賞從征兵卒,每人白銀十兩、糧米三擔、美酒三
    壇、肥羊一口﹔外將番鄧所得金銀彩緞,照人數月分給
    ,著今回家養息一月,免其差役,圣旨一下,歡聲如雷
    ,然后眾人領宴。

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第七十九回

    結絲蘿共成花燭乘鸞鳳同遂姻緣

    話說天子傳旨幵宴,衹見兩邊鼓樂齊鳴,笙蕭細奏。天
    子居中坐下,文武大臣分兩班序坐,早有執事官員捧上
    金壺玉盞、山珍海錯。端的是帝王富貴,怎見得:孔雀
    屏幵,天子設瓊林之宴﹔玉璃扇展,群臣赴金殿之筵。
    海錯山珍錦盤中,捧著龍肝鳳膽﹔金波玉液銀壺內,泛
    出青黃碧綠。歌傳金石,譜成蕭管星簧﹔響徹云霄,按
    定宮商角徽。燭尤吐彩,珠光与寶炬齊輝﹔象鼎焚香,
    异獸与珍禽并舞。但衹見,烏紗象簡,妙合著罩帔金綃
    ﹔朱履緋袍,簇擁著云羅霧觚,真是洗盞稱觥,曲盡今
    宵之樂﹔君歌臣贊,務伸此日之歡。這才是:欲求真富
    貴,惟有帝王家。

    按下君臣在飛云殿飲宴作樂。且言眾位夫人小姐,早有
    宮女掌燈,引入正宮,參拜娘娘。娘娘傳旨平身,各人
    錦墩賜坐,妃女獻茶。茶罷,娘娘傳旨內侍擺宴伺候,
    先領各眾家夫人小姐,到各宮游玩,回來飲宴。內恃領
    旨。娘娘起身,向眾位夫人小姐說道:“眾卿難得到此
    ,且先到各宮游覽一番,然后飲宴。”眾夫人小姐謝恩
    。

    當下四名宮女,掌了兩對金燈引路,君臣們前后相隨而
    行。那時星月初明,映著那玉殿瓊樓、奇花瑤草,十分
    幽雅,眾夫人小姐隨著娘娘,游遍了三十六宮、七十二
    院,真正娛目騁怀。忽見司禮監跪下說道:“啟娘娘,
    宴己幵備,請駕回宮。”娘娘聞奏,傳旨擺駕回宮,內
    侍領旨,引入朝陽正殿。須臾,宴已擺齊,但見金碧輝
    煌,香煙芙郁,光浮五薈,色映金樽。娘娘賜坐,眾夫
    人小姐一一謝恩,依次坐下。

    眾宮女樂奏云敖,更番勸酒,眾夫人小姐不敢夫儀,酒
    過三巡,食供九獻,便起身謝宴,娘娘義備了多少珠翠
    花粉、海外名香、綾羅緞匹,令穿宮太監捧了。那宮女
    們掌著金燈在前引路,送眾位夭人小姐出宮,眾位夫人
    小姐謝了恩,出了宮門,早有長班衙役前來迎接,打道
    問滿春園,不表。

    且言外殿上眾文武大臣,也謝宴回滿春園去了。次日清
    晨,上朝謝恩,天子傳旨,令工部尚書監督工程,將沈
    謙府第重新起造,改為義烈詞,春秋二時賜祭。又令起
    造各位王侯府第,按品級施行。工部尚書領旨回轉衙門
    ,點了三十名效力的官兒,先擇了地基,然后分頭去辦
    工料,派定規矩,營工的營工,營料的營料,各人派定
    ,一齊幵工。起造了四十多日,早已齊備。

    當下工部大人見工程已完,又親到各府驗看一遍﹔然后
    將各家府第幵成一本清冊,上朝繳旨。天子聞奏大喜,
    將冊子展幵一看,上寫道:遵旨起造各位王侯殲第,清
    冊注名于左,計三十三所。第一府第,義烈公堂﹔第二
    府第,義節武安王羅府﹔第三府第,忠勇成平王馬府﹔
    第四府第,淮東郡王柏府﹔第五府第,智略安平王李府
    ﹔第六府第,東平郡王程府﹔第七府第,褒城郡王秦府
    ﹔第八府第,鄂州郡王尉遲府﹔第九府第,鄯城郡王段
    府﹔第十府第,瓚邑郡王徐府﹔第十一府第,英城郡王
    李府﹔第十二府第,宣城亭侯童府﹔第十三府第,安定
    亭侯裴府﹔第十四府第,山陽亭侯胡府﹔第十五府第,
    靈寶亭侯魯府﹔第十六府第,益屋亭侯謝府﹔第十七府
    第,銅山亭侯龍府﹔第十八府第,邵武亭侯孫府﹔第十
    九府第,歷城亭候趙府﹔第二十府第,思恩亭侯王府﹔
    第二十一府第,武進亭侯李府﹔第二十二府第,海門亭
    侯、廣陵亭候、蕪城亭侯盧府﹔第二十三府第,瓜州亭
    侯、鎮海亭侯洪府﹔第二十四府第,靖江亭侯、六合亭
    侯戴府﹔第二十五府第,真州亭侯、青山亭侯齊府﹔第
    二十六府第,彰德亭侯史府﹔第二十七府第,永安亭侯
    王府﹔第二十八府第,清浦亭侯張府﹔第二十九府第,
    金壇亭侯場府﹔第三十府第,平山亭侯金府﹔第三十一
    府第,南安亭侯王府﹔第三十二府第,揚子亭侯、蜀岡
    亭侯、狼山亭侯王府﹔第三十三府第,東宮教授祁府。

    天子看完清冊,又命禮部尚書擇定明日吉期,迎送各位
    功臣進府。圣旨一下,次日五鼓,眾功臣人朝謝恩,隨
    即擺齊執事,笙蕭細樂,各位進府。合朝九卿四相六部
    官員及合城的文武大小職事,紛紛送禮,各府道喜,長
    安城中好不熱鬧!正是:此日衣冠榮畫錦,他年姓字表
    凌煙。

    話說眾位王侯進了新府,彼此請酒恭賀,忙了二十多日
    。那日羅爺在府無事,堂候官稟道:“圣旨到了!”羅
    爺忙忙起身接旨,太監宣讀。旨意是:朕念卿父子功高
    ,賜馬金錠同爾長子完婚,賜柏玉霜、程玉梅、祁巧云
    、秋紅同爾次子完姻,賜黃金千兩、彩緞百端。明日乃
    是黃道良辰,著李逢春代朕為媒,迎娶完姻,欽此。

    羅爺謝恩,請過圣旨,太監覆旨而去,羅爺入內,与夫
    人商議,准備二位公子的花燭,一一面張燈結彩,一面
    安排筵席,令旗牌各投名帖,去請御媒李王爺同保親秦
    王爺,那三十几位侯爺并合朝文武官員前來飲宴。衹見
    滿城中車馬紛紛,一齊都到羅門道喜,真是門前車馬,
    堂上空歌,好不光彩!正是:堂前珠履三千客,房內金
    釵十二行。

    按下羅府的事,且言柏府也接了圣旨,早有英城郡工夫
    婦同侯氏夫人治備妝奩,打發玉霜、秋紅出嫁。那程府
    、祁府總是如此,不必細細交代。

    再講馬府接了圣旨,也都收拾預備,挂彩張燈。等到次
    日,馬爺親喚小姐上轎,三聲大炮,出了府門。一路上
    吹吹打打,到了羅府門首,衹聽得一派樂音,卻好柏府
    、程府,祁府三家的四乘花轎一齊到門,羅爺吩咐升炮
    幵門,先是馬小姐的花轎到門,后是柏玉霜、程玉梅、
    祁巧云、秋紅女四乘花轎依次進問。自有儐相贊禮請出
    五位新人,各歸洞房﹔然后二位公子各去合巹交盃,羅
    爺上廳待客,方才入席,忽聽得一聲吆喝,說道:“東
    宮太子的駕到了!”

    不知后事如何,且聽下回分解。

    第八十回

    凌煙閣上千秋標義粉妝樓前百世流芳

    話說羅爺正在前廳陪客飲宴,忽聽得一聲吆喝。堂官稟
    道:“啟王爺,東宮太子奉旨前來恭賀,駕已到了轅門
    ,請王爺接駕!”羅爺慌忙吩咐大幵中門,穿了朝服,
    同眾王侯齊出門來迎接。衹見太子坐在逍遙馬上,頭戴
    紫金冠,身穿滾龍袍,擺列著半朝鑾駕,金瓜鉞斧分于
    左右。

    羅爺父子同眾王侯一齊跪下道:“臣等不知千歲駕到,
    迎駕來遲,望千歲赦罪!”太子連忙下馬,親手來扶,
    說道:“請起!孤恭賀來遲,休得見怪。”當下眾人起
    身,請太子登堂,行禮﹔太子中間正坐,各王侯次序兩
    旁。太子道:“孤備了些許菲禮,來与二位小王兄賀喜
    。”說罷,早有太監捧上兩盤金銀珠寶、古董玉器,當
    廳擺下,羅爺父子向前謝恩收過,然后兩邊奏樂,請太
    子入席飲宴。正中是太子獨席,兩旁是眾王侯相陪。席
    面上玉斗金厄,山珍海饈,十分富麗。有詩為証:孔雀
    屏幵代瑁筵,霞光藹藹裊香煙。風云龍虎今宵會,畫錦
    敷榮億萬年。

    話說東宮太子飲過宴,傳旨擺駕回宮而去。眾王侯送太
    子回宮之后,也告別各回府去了。羅公退入后堂,吩咐
    掌燈送二位公子進房,二位公子請過安,各自歸房,不
    表。

    且言大公子進房与馬小姐合巹,真是女貌郎才,一雙兩
    好,有詩為証:琴瑟初調韻,關雎此夜歌。春風花弄色
    ﹔楚岫會仙娥。

    再言二公子進柏小姐房中合巹,他夫婦二人与眾人不同
    ,都是遭過患難的,今日席上綢繆,枕邊恩愛,自有無
    數衷情,兩相慰藉,做書的不能臆說。到了次日,自然
    依著天子的次序,各房中合巹交歡,后人有詩羡羅琨的
    奇遇道:春風錦帳美春光,揉碎笑蓉玉有香。云鎖巫山
    仙夢永,四尊神女一襄王。

    說說羅府到了次日,二位公子起身,一齊參拜天地,又
    拜了父母。然后入朝謝恩,又到各岳父家謝親,不必細
    表。

    且言馬爺自從金錠小姐出閣后,又擇了日期与公子馬瑤
    完姻,謝靈花這邊都是謝元主持其事。恰好那一日平山
    亭侯金府也迎娶胡孌姑。各位王侯又往來道喜,絡繹不
    絕,都不必細表。

    這三家完姻,足足鬧了個月方才無事。眾王侯自從封贈
    之后,安享了一月有余。眾人稟知羅爺,要回家祭祖,
    羅爺遂同眾人上本。天子准奏,各賜了御祭。眾人謝恩
    出朝,擇日動身。

    羅爺祖塋是在長安,擇日興工重新修造。馬爺的祖全也
    在長安,向日被沈謙削平的,久已修整如新,不須再造
    ,其余王爺在京的墳墓,不必細說。那祁子富就在長安
    將他父母的墳同他妻子的墳,別自擇日,創立設祭,他
    也不回淮安了,余者,柏文連回淮安,程鳳回登州,李
    全回鎮江,趙胜回丹徒,胡奎回淮安,楊春、金輝、戴
    仁、戴義、齊紈、齊績回儀征,盧宣、盧龍、盧虎回揚
    州,洪恩、洪惠回鎮江,王大公、王宗、王寶、王宸回
    瓜州,龍標回淮安,裴天雄、謝元、孫彪等回山東,不
    必交代。

    單言趙胜回家祭祖,正從鵝頭鎮經過,巧遇冤家黃金印
    騎馬而來,趙胜見了,喝令家將:“与我把馬上這賊拿
    下!”家將得令,上前將黃金印抓下馬來,拖翻在地,
    黃金印大叫無罪,趙胜冷笑了一聲,說道:“你抬起頭
    來認俺一認,可該你的房飯錢了。”那黃金印抬頭一看
    ,認得趙胜,衹嚇得膽裂魂消,衹求饒命,趙胜大怒,
    喝令扯下去打。打了四十大棍,即喚地方官取一面重枷
    枷了,喝道:“你若再不改過,本爵取你的狗命便了!
    ”正是:善惡到頭終有報,衹爭來早与來遲。

    按下趙胜的事。且說各位王侯回家祭祖,有兩個月的限
    期,一齊回京繳旨。各人到了長安,進朝見了天子,覆
    了旨,各歸府第,那張二娘的飯店房子,己改做尼姑庵
    了。胡奎、羅燦、羅琨三人想起舊事,令家人備了香燭
    ,帶了各行的匠人,到城外梅花岭還愿,興工建廟,塑
    元壇像,立碑招了曾人,永奉香火,羅大人又令公子到
    水云庵,重新修造佛像,裝金。

    眾位王侯諸事已畢,每日上朝輔政,真乃是:君明臣良
    ,文修武備﹔國家有道,百姓安康。

    乾德天子心中欣喜。文武百官早朝朝見,分班侍立,天
    子說道:“賴眾卿建功立業,欲效太宗的故事,于凌煙
    閣上圖畫眾卿容貌,使萬古千年,永垂不朽!不知眾卿
    意下如何?”眾人一齊跪下謝恩,說道:“這是萬歲的
    龍恩,臣等銘感五內。”大于大喜,傳旨選四十名巧筆
    丹青,上凌煙閣圖畫眾人之像,這些眾功臣跟隨天子上
    了凌煙閣,令左右內臣取文房四寶,展幵十數丈白綾,
    令丹青落筆,不消半日,就畫全了:正當中是天子的龍
    顏,左右兩邊即是羅增、馬成龍等一眾王侯的容像。天
    子一看,衹見須眉畢露,笑貌如生,十分精巧。天子大
    多,賞了匠人。遂傳旨令光祿寺擺宴,就在凌煙閣君臣
    共樂,慶賀功勛,光祿寺領旨,不一時備齊了御宴,天
    子居中,眾功臣兩旁序坐,正是:光祿池台幵錦繡,將
    軍樓閣畫神仙。

    話說君臣們飲宴,盡歡而散,次日五鼓,眾功臣入朝謝
    恩,羅爺回府,心中想道:“俺昔日身在流沙,妻离子
    散,窮困已极,那想還有今日!全虧了兩個孩兒,糾合
    義師,使我成功歸國,此乃上蒼所助也!不可不上謝神
    靈,下酬戚友!”當下遂令旗牌各府投帖,請宴謝神。
    諸事備辦齊整,不多一時,人馬紛紛,眾位俱到。羅爺
    忙忙出廳迎接,次序坐下,羅爺吩咐內外擺席,兩旁鼓
    樂齊鳴,笙歌宣奏。

    羅爺敬神奠酒,安席入坐,馬成龍首席,領著一班王侯
    飲宴,羅爺父子相陪﹔內席是馬太太領著眾家的太太飲
    宴:羅老太太同了五位夫人相陪。兩邊奏樂,幵場做戲
    ,內外官客、堂客衹飲至三更方才散席。真正:合家歡
    樂,稱心滿意﹔百世榮華,千秋佳話。

    可見忠佞兩途,關乎國運。前半部就如冥府幽司,后半
    部何等光天化日,這豈非親賢遠佞之明效大驗哉!

    余故細細譜出,以為勸善之上鑑二:
    詩曰:
    一折翻成酒一盃,粉妝舊譜換新裁。
    鑄成忠骨承恩露,褫去奸魂代怒雷。
    化日無私真令辟,凌煙有后盡英材。
    稗官提筆談遺享,慷慨悲歌八十回。

    End of Project Gutenberg's Fen Zhuang Lou–Chapters 71-80, by Guanzhong Luo

  • Zen and the Art of the Internet

    Zen and the Art of the Internet

    Aproximadamente 26.124 palavras.

    Part A

    Zen and the Art of the Internet

    Copyright (c) 1992 Brendan P. Kehoe

    Permission is granted to make and distribute verbatim copies of this
    guide provided the copyright notice and this permission notice are
    preserved on all copies.

    Permission is granted to copy and distribute modified versions of
    this booklet under the conditions for verbatim copying, provided that
    the entire resulting derived work is distributed under the terms of a
    permission notice identical to this one.

    Permission is granted to copy and distribute translations of this
    booklet into another language, under the above conditions for
    modified versions, except that this permission notice may be stated
    in a translation approved by the author.

    Zen and the Art of the Internet
    A Beginner's Guide to the Internet
    First Edition
    January 1992

    by Brendan P. Kehoe

    This is revision 1.0 of February 2, 1992.
    Copyright (c) 1992 Brendan P. Kehoe

    The composition of this booklet was originally started because the
    Computer Science department at Widener University was in desperate
    need of documentation describing the capabilities of this "great new
    Internet link" we obtained.

    It's since grown into an effort to acquaint the reader with much of
    what's currently available over the Internet. Aimed at the novice
    user, it attempts to remain operating system "neutral"—little
    information herein is specific to Unix, VMS, or any other
    environment. This booklet will, hopefully, be usable by nearly
    anyone.

    A user's session is usually offset from the rest of the paragraph, as
    such:

    prompt> command
    The results are usually displayed here.

    The purpose of this booklet is two-fold: first, it's intended to
    serve as a reference piece, which someone can easily grab on the fly
    and look something up. Also, it forms a foundation from which people
    can explore the vast expanse of the Internet. Zen and the Art of the
    Internet doesn't spend a significant amount of time on any one point;
    rather, it provides enough for people to learn the specifics of what
    his or her local system offers.

    One warning is perhaps in order—this territory we are entering can
    become a fantastic time-sink. Hours can slip by, people can come and
    go, and you'll be locked into Cyberspace. Remember to do your work!

    With that, I welcome you, the new user, to The Net.

    brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Chester, PA

    Acknowledgements

    Certain sections in this booklet are not my original work—rather,
    they are derived from documents that were available on the Internet
    and already aptly stated their areas of concentration. The chapter
    on Usenet is, in large part, made up of what's posted monthly to
    news.announce.newusers, with some editing and rewriting. Also, the
    main section on archie was derived from whatis.archie by Peter
    Deutsch of the McGill University Computing Centre. It's available
    via anonymous FTP from archie.mcgill.ca. Much of what's in the
    telnet section came from an impressive introductory document put
    together by SuraNet. Some definitions in the one are from an
    excellent glossary put together by Colorado State University.

    This guide would not be the same without the aid of many people on The
    Net, and the providers of resources that are already out there. I'd
    like to thank the folks who gave this a read-through and returned some
    excellent comments, suggestions, and criticisms, and those who
    provided much-needed information on the fly. Glee Willis deserves
    particular mention for all of his work; this guide would have been
    considerably less polished without his help.

    Andy Blankenbiller <rablanke@crdec7.apgea.army.mil>
    Andy Blankenbiller, Army at Aberdeen

    bajan@cs.mcgill.ca
    Alan Emtage, McGill University Computer Science Department

    Brian Fitzgerald <fitz@mml0.meche.rpi.edu>
    Brian Fitzgerald, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute

    John Goetsch <ccjg@hippo.ru.ac.za>
    John Goetsch, Rhodes University, South Africa

    composer@chem.bu.edu
    Jeff Kellem, Boston University's Chemistry Department

    kraussW@moravian.edu
    Bill Krauss, Moravian College

    Steve Lodin <deaes!swlodin@iuvax.cs.indiana.edu>
    Steve Lodin, Delco Electronics

    Mike Nesel <nesel@elxsi.dfrf.nasa.gov>
    Mike Nesel, NASA

    Bob <neveln@cs.widener.edu>
    Bob Neveln, Widener University Computer Science Department

    wamapi@dunkin.cc.mcgill.ca (Wanda Pierce)
    Wanda Pierce, McGill University Computing Centre

    Joshua.R.Poulson@cyber.widener.edu
    Joshua Poulson, Widener University Computing Services

    de5@ornl.gov
    Dave Sill, Oak Ridge National Laboratory

    bsmart@bsmart.tti.com
    Bob Smart, CitiCorp/TTI

    emv@msen.com
    Ed Vielmetti, Vice President of MSEN

    Craig E. Ward <cew@venera.isi.edu>
    Craig Ward, USC/Information Sciences Institute (ISI)

    Glee Willis <willis@unssun.nevada.edu>
    Glee Willis, University of Nevada, Reno

    Charles Yamasaki <chip@oshcomm.osha.gov>
    Chip Yamasaki, OSHA

    Network Basics

    We are truly in an information society. Now more than ever, moving
    vast amounts of information quickly across great distances is one of
    our most pressing needs. From small one-person entrepreneurial
    efforts, to the largest of corporations, more and more professional
    people are discovering that the only way to be successful in the '90s
    and beyond is to realize that technology is advancing at a break-neck
    pace—and they must somehow keep up. Likewise, researchers from all
    corners of the earth are finding that their work thrives in a
    networked environment. Immediate access to the work of colleagues
    and a "virtual" library of millions of volumes and thousands of
    papers affords them the ability to encorporate a body of knowledge
    heretofore unthinkable. Work groups can now conduct interactive
    conferences with each other, paying no heed to physical
    location—the possibilities are endless.

    You have at your fingertips the ability to talk in "real-time" with
    someone in Japan, send a 2,000-word short story to a group of people
    who will critique it for the sheer pleasure of doing so, see if a
    Macintosh sitting in a lab in Canada is turned on, and find out if
    someone happens to be sitting in front of their computer (logged on)
    in Australia, all inside of thirty minutes. No airline (or tardis,
    for that matter) could ever match that travel itinerary.

    The largest problem people face when first using a network is
    grasping all that's available. Even seasoned users find themselves
    surprised when they discover a new service or feature that they'd
    never known even existed. Once acquainted with the terminology and
    sufficiently comfortable with making occasional mistakes, the
    learning process will drastically speed up.

    Domains

    Getting where you want to go can often be one of the more difficult
    aspects of using networks. The variety of ways that places are named
    will probably leave a blank stare on your face at first. Don't fret;
    there is a method to this apparent madness.

    If someone were to ask for a home address, they would probably expect
    a street, apartment, city, state, and zip code. That's all the
    information the post office needs to deliver mail in a reasonably
    speedy fashion. Likewise, computer addresses have a structure to
    them. The general form is:

    a person's email address on a computer: user@somewhere.domain
    a computer's name: somewhere.domain

    The user portion is usually the person's account name on the
    system, though it doesn't have to be. somewhere.domain tells
    you the name of a system or location, and what kind of organization it
    is. The trailing domain is often one of the following:

    com
    Usually a company or other commercial institution or organization,
    like Convex Computers (convex.com).

    edu
    An educational institution, e.g. New York University, named nyu.edu.

    gov
    A government site; for example, NASA is nasa.gov.

    mil
    A military site, like the Air Force (af.mil).

    net
    Gateways and other administrative hosts for a network (it does not
    mean all of the hosts in a network). {The Matrix, 111. One such
    gateway is near.net.}

    org
    This is a domain reserved for private organizations, who don't
    comfortably fit in the other classes of domains. One example is the
    Electronic Frontier Foundation named eff.org.

    Each country also has its own top-level domain. For example, the
    us domain includes each of the fifty states. Other countries
    represented with domains include:

    au Australia
    ca Canada
    fr France
    uk The United Kingdom. These also have sub-domains of things like
    ac.uk for academic sites and co.uk for commercial ones.

    FQDN (Fully Qualified Domain Name)

    The proper terminology for a site's domain name (somewhere.domain
    above) is its Fully Qualified Domain Name (FQDN). It is usually
    selected to give a clear indication of the site's organization or
    sponsoring agent. For example, the Massachusetts Institute of
    Technology's FQDN is mit.edu; similarly, Apple Computer's domain name
    is apple.com. While such obvious names are usually the norm, there
    are the occasional exceptions that are ambiguous enough to
    mislead—like vt.edu, which on first impulse one might surmise is an
    educational institution of some sort in Vermont; not so. It's
    actually the domain name for Virginia Tech. In most cases it's
    relatively easy to glean the meaning of a domain name—such
    confusion is far from the norm.

    Internet Numbers

    Every single machine on the Internet has a unique address, {At least
    one address, possibly two or even three—but we won't go into
    that.} called its Internet number or IP Address. It's actually a
    32-bit number, but is most commonly represented as four numbers
    joined by periods (.), like 147.31.254.130. This is sometimes also
    called a dotted quad; there are literally thousands of different
    possible dotted quads. The ARPAnet (the mother to today's Internet)
    originally only had the capacity to have up to 256 systems on it
    because of the way each system was addressed. In the early eighties,
    it became clear that things would fast outgrow such a small limit;
    the 32-bit addressing method was born, freeing thousands of host
    numbers.

    Each piece of an Internet address (like 192) is called an "octet,"
    representing one of four sets of eight bits. The first two or three
    pieces (e.g. 192.55.239) represent the network that a system is on,
    called its subnet. For example, all of the computers for Wesleyan
    University are in the subnet 129.133. They can have numbers like
    129.133.10.10, 129.133.230.19, up to 65 thousand possible
    combinations (possible computers).

    IP addresses and domain names aren't assigned arbitrarily—that
    would lead to unbelievable confusion. An application must be filed
    with the Network Information Center (NIC), either electronically (to
    hostmaster@nic.ddn.mil) or via regular mail.

    Resolving Names and Numbers

    Ok, computers can be referred to by either their FQDN or their
    Internet address. How can one user be expected to remember them all?

    They aren't. The Internet is designed so that one can use either
    method. Since humans find it much more natural to deal with words
    than numbers in most cases, the FQDN for each host is mapped to its
    Internet number. Each domain is served by a computer within that
    domain, which provides all of the necessary information to go from a
    domain name to an IP address, and vice-versa. For example, when
    someone refers to foosun.bar.com, the resolver knows that it should
    ask the system foovax.bar.com about systems in bar.com. It asks what
    Internet address foosun.bar.com has; if the name foosun.bar.com
    really exists, foovax will send back its number. All of this
    "magic" happens behind the scenes.

    Rarely will a user have to remember the Internet number of a site
    (although often you'll catch yourself remembering an apparently
    obscure number, simply because you've accessed the system
    frequently). However, you will remember a substantial number of
    FQDNs. It will eventually reach a point when you are able to make a
    reasonably accurate guess at what domain name a certain college,
    university, or company might have, given just their name.

    The Networks

    Internet
    The Internet is a large "network of networks." There is no
    one network known as The Internet; rather, regional nets like SuraNet,
    PrepNet, NearNet, et al., are all inter-connected
    (nay, "inter-networked") together into one great living thing,
    communicating at amazing speeds with the TCP/IP protocol. All
    activity takes place in "real-time."

    UUCP
    The UUCP network is a loose association of systems all communicating
    with the UUCP protocol. (UUCP stands for `Unix-to-Unix Copy
    Program'.) It's based on two systems connecting to each other at
    specified intervals, called polling, and executing any work
    scheduled for either of them. Historically most UUCP was done with
    Unix equipment, although the software's since been implemented on
    other platforms (e.g. VMS). For example, the system oregano
    polls the system basil once every two hours. If there's any
    mail waiting for oregano, basil will send it at that time;
    likewise, oregano will at that time send any jobs waiting for
    basil.

    BITNET
    BITNET (the "Because It's Time Network") is comprised of systems
    connected by point-to-point links, all running the NJE protocol.
    It's continued to grow, but has found itself suffering at the hands of
    the falling costs of Internet connections. Also, a number of mail
    gateways are in place to reach users on other networks.

    The Physical Connection

    The actual connections between the various networks take a variety of
    forms. The most prevalent for Internet links are 56k leased lines
    (dedicated telephone lines carrying 56kilobit-per-second connections)
    and T1 links (special phone lines with 1Mbps connections). Also
    installed are T3 links, acting as backbones between major locations
    to carry a massive 45Mbps load of traffic.

    These links are paid for by each institution to a local carrier (for
    example, Bell Atlantic owns PrepNet, the main provider in
    Pennsylvania). Also available are SLIP connections, which carry
    Internet traffic (packets) over high-speed modems.

    UUCP links are made with modems (for the most part), that run from
    1200 baud all the way up to as high as 38.4Kbps. As was mentioned in
    The Networks, the connections are of the store-and-forward
    variety. Also in use are Internet-based UUCP links (as if things
    weren't already confusing enough!). The systems do their UUCP traffic
    over TCP/IP connections, which give the UUCP-based network some
    blindingly fast "hops," resulting in better connectivity for the
    network as a whole. UUCP connections first became popular in the
    1970's, and have remained in wide-spread use ever since. Only with
    UUCP can Joe Smith correspond with someone across the country or
    around the world, for the price of a local telephone call.

    BITNET links mostly take the form of 9600bps modems connected from site
    to site. Often places have three or more links going; the majority,
    however, look to "upstream" sites for their sole link to the network.

    "The Glory and the Nothing of a Name"
    Byron, {Churchill's Grave}

    ———–
    Electronic Mail

    The desire to communicate is the essence of networking. People have
    always wanted to correspond with each other in the fastest way
    possible, short of normal conversation. Electronic mail (or
    email) is the most prevalent application of this in computer
    networking. It allows people to write back and forth without having
    to spend much time worrying about how the message actually gets
    delivered. As technology grows closer and closer to being a common
    part of daily life, the need to understand the many ways it can be
    utilized and how it works, at least to some level, is vital.
    part of daily life (as has been evidenced by the ISDN effort, the need
    to understand the many ways it can be utilized and how it works, at
    least to some level, is vital.

    Email Addresses

    Electronic mail is hinged around the concept of an address; the
    section on Networking Basics made some reference to it while
    introducing domains. Your email address provides all of the
    information required to get a message to you from anywhere in the
    world. An address doesn't necessarily have to go to a human being.
    It could be an archive server, {See Archive Servers, for a
    description.} a list of people, or even someone's pocket pager.
    These cases are the exception to the norm—mail to most addresses is
    read by human beings.

    %@!.: Symbolic Cacophony

    Email addresses usually appear in one of two forms—using the
    Internet format which contains @, an "at"-sign, or using the
    UUCP format which contains !, an exclamation point, also called
    a "bang." The latter of the two, UUCP "bang" paths, is more
    restrictive, yet more clearly dictates how the mail will travel.

    To reach Jim Morrison on the system south.america.org, one would
    address the mail as jm@south.america.org. But if Jim's account was
    on a UUCP site named brazil, then his address would be brazil!jm. If
    it's possible (and one exists), try to use the Internet form of an
    address; bang paths can fail if an intermediate site in the path
    happens to be down. There is a growing trend for UUCP sites to
    register Internet domain names, to help alleviate the problem of path
    failures.

    Another symbol that enters the fray is %—it acts as an extra
    "routing" method. For example, if the UUCP site dream is connected
    to south.america.org, but doesn't have an Internet domain name of its
    own, a user debbie on dream can be reached by writing to the address
    not smallexample!

    debbie%dream@south.america.org

    The form is significant. This address says that the local system
    should first send the mail to south.america.org. There the address
    debbie%dream will turn into debbie@dream, which will hopefully be a
    valid address. Then south.america.org will handle getting the mail
    to the host dream, where it will be delivered locally to debbie.

    All of the intricacies of email addressing methods are fully covered
    in the book "!%@@:: A Directory of Electronic Mail Addressing and
    Networks" published by O'Reilly and Associates, as part of their
    Nutshell Handbook series. It is a must for any active email user.
    Write to nuts@ora.com for ordering information.

    Sending and Receiving Mail

    We'll make one quick diversion from being OS-neuter here, to show you
    what it will look like to send and receive a mail message on a Unix
    system. Check with your system administrator for specific
    instructions related to mail at your site.

    A person sending the author mail would probably do something like this:

    % mail brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: print job's stuck

    I typed `print babe.gif' and it didn't work! Why??

    The next time the author checked his mail, he would see it listed in
    his mailbox as:

    % mail
    "/usr/spool/mail/brendan": 1 messages 1 new 1 unread
    U 1 joeuser@foo.widene Tue May 5 20:36 29/956 print job's stuck
    ?

    which gives information on the sender of the email, when it was sent,
    and the subject of the message. He would probably use the
    reply command of Unix mail to send this response:

    ? r
    To: joeuser@@foo.widener.edu
    Subject: Re: print job's stuck

    You shouldn't print binary files like GIFs to a printer!

    Brendan

    Try sending yourself mail a few times, to get used to your system's
    mailer. It'll save a lot of wasted aspirin for both you and your
    system administrator.

    Anatomy of a Mail Header

    An electronic mail message has a specific structure to it that's
    common across every type of computer system. {The standard is written
    down in RFC-822. See also RFCs for more info on how to get copies of
    the various RFCs.} A sample would be:

    >From bush@hq.mil Sat May 25 17:06:01 1991
    Received: from hq.mil by house.gov with SMTP id AA21901
    (4.1/SMI for dan@house.gov); Sat, 25 May 91 17:05:56 -0400
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 17:05:56 -0400
    From: The President <bush@hq.mil>
    Message-Id: <9105252105.AA06631@hq.mil>
    To: dan@senate.gov
    Subject: Meeting

    Hi Dan .. we have a meeting at 9:30 a.m. with the Joint Chiefs. Please
    don't oversleep this time.

    The first line, with From and the two lines for Received: are usually
    not very interesting. They give the "real" address that the mail
    is coming from (as opposed to the address you should reply to, which
    may look much different), and what places the mail went through to
    get to you. Over the Internet, there is always at least one
    Received: header and usually no more than four or five. When a
    message is sent using UUCP, one Received: header is added for each
    system that the mail passes through. This can often result in more
    than a dozen Received: headers. While they help with dissecting
    problems in mail delivery, odds are the average user will never want
    to see them. Most mail programs will filter out this kind of
    "cruft" in a header.

    The Date: header contains the date and time the message was
    sent. Likewise, the "good" address (as opposed to "real" address)
    is laid out in the From: header. Sometimes it won't include
    the full name of the person (in this case The President), and
    may look different, but it should always contain an email address of
    some form.

    The Message-ID: of a message is intended mainly for tracing
    mail routing, and is rarely of interest to normal users. Every
    Message-ID: is guaranteed to be unique.

    To: lists the email address (or addresses) of the recipients of
    the message. There may be a Cc: header, listing additional
    addresses. Finally, a brief subject for the message goes in the
    Subject: header.

    The exact order of a message's headers may vary from system to system,
    but it will always include these fundamental headers that are vital to
    proper delivery.

    Bounced Mail

    When an email address is incorrect in some way (the system's name is
    wrong, the domain doesn't exist, whatever), the mail system will
    bounce the message back to the sender, much the same way that the
    Postal Service does when you send a letter to a bad street address.
    The message will include the reason for the bounce; a common error is
    addressing mail to an account name that doesn't exist. For example,
    writing to Lisa Simpson at Widener University's Computer Science
    department will fail, because she doesn't have an account. {Though if
    she asked, we'd certainly give her one.}

    From: Mail Delivery Subsystem <MAILER-DAEMON>
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    To: mg@gracie.com
    Cc: Postmaster@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: Returned mail: User unknown

    —– Transcript of session follows —–
    While talking to cs.widener.edu:
    >>> RCPT To:<lsimpson@cs.widener.edu>
    <<< 550 <lsimpson@cs.widener.edu>… User unknown
    550 lsimpson… User unknown

    As you can see, a carbon copy of the message (the Cc: header
    entry) was sent to the postmaster of Widener's CS department. The
    Postmaster is responsible for maintaining a reliable mail system
    on his system. Usually postmasters at sites will attempt to aid you
    in getting your mail where it's supposed to go. If a typing error was
    made, then try re-sending the message. If you're sure that the
    address is correct, contact the postmaster of the site directly and
    ask him how to properly address it.

    The message also includes the text of the mail, so you don't have to
    retype everything you wrote.

    —– Unsent message follows —–
    Received: by cs.widener.edu id AA06528; Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    Date: Sat, 25 May 91 16:45:14 -0400
    From: Matt Groening <mg@gracie.com>
    Message-Id: <9105252045.AA06528@gracie.com>
    To: lsimpson@cs.widener.edu
    Subject: Scripting your future episodes
    Reply-To: writing-group@gracie.com

    …. verbiage …

    The full text of the message is returned intact, including any headers
    that were added. This can be cut out with an editor and fed right
    back into the mail system with a proper address, making redelivery a
    relatively painless process.

    Mailing Lists

    People that share common interests are inclined to discuss their
    hobby or interest at every available opportunity. One modern way to
    aid in this exchange of information is by using a mailing
    list—usually an email address that redistributes all mail sent to
    it back out to a list of addresses. For example, the Sun Managers
    mailing list (of interest to people that administer computers
    manufactured by Sun) has the address sun-managers@eecs.nwu.edu. Any
    mail sent to that address will "explode" out to each person named
    in a file maintained on a computer at Northwestern University.

    Administrative tasks (sometimes referred to as administrivia) are
    often handled through other addresses, typically with the suffix
    -request. To continue the above, a request to be added to or deleted
    from the Sun Managers list should be sent to
    sun-managers-request@eecs.nwu.edu.

    When in doubt, try to write to the -request version of a mailing list
    address first; the other people on the list aren't interested in your
    desire to be added or deleted, and can certainly do nothing to
    expedite your request. Often if the administrator of a list is busy
    (remember, this is all peripheral to real jobs and real work), many
    users find it necessary to ask again and again, often with harsher
    and harsher language, to be removed from a list. This does nothing
    more than waste traffic and bother everyone else receiving the
    messages. If, after a reasonable amount of time, you still haven't
    succeeded to be removed from a mailing list, write to the postmaster
    at that site and see if they can help.

    Exercise caution when replying to a message sent by a mailing list. If
    you wish to respond to the author only, make sure that the only
    address you're replying to is that person, and not the entire list.
    Often messages of the sort "Yes, I agree with you completely!" will
    appear on a list, boring the daylights out of the other readers. Likewise,
    if you explicitly do want to send the message to the whole list,
    you'll save yourself some time by checking to make sure it's indeed
    headed to the whole list and not a single person.

    A list of the currently available mailing lists is available in at
    least two places; the first is in a file on ftp.nisc.sri.com called
    interest-groups under the netinfo/ directory. It's updated fairly
    regularly, but is large (presently around 700K), so only get it every
    once in a while. The other list is maintained by Gene Spafford
    (spaf@cs.purdue.edu), and is posted in parts to the newsgroup
    news.lists semi-regularly. (Usenet News, for info on how to read that
    and other newsgroups.)

    Listservs

    On BITNET there's an automated system for maintaining discussion lists
    called the listserv. Rather than have an already harried and
    overworked human take care of additions and removals from a list, a
    program performs these and other tasks by responding to a set of
    user-driven commands.

    Areas of interest are wide and varied—ETHICS-L deals with ethics in
    computing, while ADND-L has to do with a role-playing game. A full
    list of the available BITNET lists can be obtained by writing to
    LISTSERV@BITNIC.BITNET with a body containing the command

    list global

    However, be sparing in your use of this—see if it's already on your
    system somewhere. The reply is quite large.

    The most fundamental command is subscribe. It will tell the
    listserv to add the sender to a specific list. The usage is

    subscribe foo-l Your Real Name

    It will respond with a message either saying that you've been added to
    the list, or that the request has been passed on to the system on
    which the list is actually maintained.

    The mate to subscribe is, naturally, unsubscribe. It will remove a
    given address from a BITNET list. It, along with all other listserv
    commands, can be abbreviated—subscribe as sub, unsubscribe as
    unsub, etc. For a full list of the available listserv commands,
    write to LISTSERV@BITNIC.BITNET, giving it the command help.

    As an aside, there have been implementations of the listserv system
    for non-BITNET hosts (more specifically, Unix systems). One of the
    most complete is available on cs.bu.edu in the
    directory pub/listserv.

    "I made this letter longer than usual because
    I lack the time to make it shorter."
    Pascal, Provincial Letters XVI

    ————–

    Anonymous FTP

    FTP (File Transfer Protocol) is the primary method of transferring
    files over the Internet. On many systems, it's also the name of the
    program that implements the protocol. Given proper permission, it's
    possible to copy a file from a computer in South Africa to one in Los
    Angeles at very fast speeds (on the order of 5–10K per second).
    This normally requires either a user id on both systems or a special
    configuration set up by the system administrator(s).

    There is a good way around this restriction—the anonymous FTP
    service. It essentially will let anyone in the world have access to
    a certain area of disk space in a non-threatening way. With this,
    people can make files publicly available with little hassle. Some
    systems have dedicated entire disks or even entire computers to
    maintaining extensive archives of source code and information. They
    include gatekeeper.dec.com (Digital), wuarchive.wustl.edu (Washington
    University in Saint Louis), and archive.cis.ohio-state.edu (The Ohio
    State University).

    The process involves the "foreign" user (someone not on the system
    itself) creating an FTP connection and logging into the system as the
    user anonymous, with an arbitrary password:

    Name (foo.site.com:you): anonymous
    Password: jm@south.america.org

    Custom and netiquette dictate that people respond to the
    Password: query with an email address so that the sites can
    track the level of FTP usage, if they desire. (Addresses for
    information on email addresses).

    The speed of the transfer depends on the speed of the underlying
    link. A site that has a 9600bps SLIP connection will not get the same
    throughput as a system with a 56k leased line (The Physical
    Connection, for more on what kinds of connections can exist in a
    network). Also, the traffic of all other users on that link will
    affect performance. If there are thirty people all FTPing from one
    site simultaneously, the load on the system (in addition to the
    network connection) will degrade the overall throughput of the
    transfer.

    FTP Etiquette

    Lest we forget, the Internet is there for people to do work. People
    using the network and the systems on it are doing so for a purpose,
    whether it be research, development, whatever. Any heavy activity
    takes away from the overall performance of the network as a whole.

    The effects of an FTP connection on a site and its link can vary; the
    general rule of thumb is that any extra traffic created detracts from
    the ability of that site's users to perform their tasks. To help be
    considerate of this, it's highly recommended that FTP sessions
    be held only after normal business hours for that site, preferably
    late at night. The possible effects of a large transfer will be less
    destructive at 2 a.m. than 2 p.m. Also, remember that if it's past
    dinner time in Maine, it's still early afternoon in California—think
    in terms of the current time at the site that's being visited, not of
    local time.

    Basic Commands

    While there have been many extensions to the various FTP clients out
    there, there is a de facto "standard" set that everyone expects to
    work. For more specific information, read the manual for your
    specific FTP program. This section will only skim the bare minimum of
    commands needed to operate an FTP session.

    Creating the Connection

    The actual command to use FTP will vary among operating systems; for
    the sake of clarity, we'll use FTP here, since it's the most
    general form.

    There are two ways to connect to a system—using its hostname
    or its Internet number. Using the hostname is usually preferred.
    However, some sites aren't able to resolve hostnames properly,
    and have no alternative. We'll assume you're able to use hostnames
    for simplicity's sake. The form is

    ftp somewhere.domain

    Domains for help with reading and using domain names
    (in the example below, somewhere.domain is ftp.uu.net).

    You must first know the name of the system you want to connect to.
    We'll use ftp.uu.net as an example. On your system, type:

    ftp ftp.uu.net

    (the actual syntax will vary depending on the type of system the
    connection's being made from). It will pause momentarily then respond
    with the message

    Connected to ftp.uu.net.

    and an initial prompt will appear:

    220 uunet FTP server (Version 5.100 Mon Feb 11 17:13:28 EST 1991) ready.
    Name (ftp.uu.net:jm):

    to which you should respond with anonymous:

    220 uunet FTP server (Version 5.100 Mon Feb 11 17:13:28 EST 1991) ready.
    Name (ftp.uu.net:jm): anonymous

    The system will then prompt you for a password; as noted previously, a
    good response is your email address:

    331 Guest login ok, send ident as password.
    Password: jm@south.america.org
    230 Guest login ok, access restrictions apply.
    ftp>

    The password itself will not echo. This is to protect a user's
    security when he or she is using a real account to FTP files between
    machines. Once you reach the ftp> prompt, you know you're
    logged in and ready to go.

    Notice the ftp.uu.net:joe in the Name: prompt? That's
    another clue that anonymous FTP is special: FTP expects a normal user
    accounts to be used for transfers.

    dir
    At the ftp> prompt, you can type a number of commands to perform
    various functions. One example is dir—it will list the files
    in the current directory. Continuing the example from above:

    ftp> dir

    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening ASCII mode data connection for /bin/ls.
    total 3116
    drwxr-xr-x 2 7 21 512 Nov 21 1988 .forward
    -rw-rw-r– 1 7 11 0 Jun 23 1988 .hushlogin
    drwxrwxr-x 2 0 21 512 Jun 4 1990 Census
    drwxrwxr-x 2 0 120 512 Jan 8 09:36 ClariNet
    … etc etc …
    -rw-rw-r– 1 7 14 42390 May 20 02:24 newthisweek.Z
    … etc etc …
    -rw-rw-r– 1 7 14 2018887 May 21 01:01 uumap.tar.Z
    drwxrwxr-x 2 7 6 1024 May 11 10:58 uunet-info

    226 Transfer complete.
    5414 bytes received in 1.1 seconds (4.9 Kbytes/s)
    ftp>

    The file newthisweek.Z was specifically included because we'll
    be using it later. Just for general information, it happens to be a
    listing of all of the files added to UUNET's archives during the past
    week.

    The directory shown is on a machine running the Unix operating
    system—the dir command will produce different results on other
    operating systems (e.g. TOPS, VMS, et al.). Learning to recognize
    different formats will take some time. After a few weeks of
    traversing the Internet, it proves easier to see, for example, how
    large a file is on an operating system you're otherwise not acquainted
    with.

    With many FTP implementations, it's also possible to take the output
    of dir and put it into a file on the local system with

    ftp> dir n* outfilename

    the contents of which can then be read outside of the live FTP
    connection; this is particularly useful for systems with very long
    directories (like ftp.uu.net). The above example would put the
    names of every file that begins with an n into the local file
    outfilename.

    cd

    At the beginning of an FTP session, the user is in a "top-level"
    directory. Most things are in directories below it (e.g. /pub). To
    change the current directory, one uses the cd command. To change to
    the directory pub, for example, one would type

    ftp> cd pub

    which would elicit the response

    250 CWD command successful.

    Meaning the "Change Working Directory" command (cd) worked
    properly. Moving "up" a directory is more system-specific—in Unix
    use the command cd .., and in VMS, cd [-].

    get and put

    The actual transfer is performed with the get and put
    commands. To get a file from the remote computer to the local
    system, the command takes the form:

    ftp> get filename

    where filename is the file on the remote system. Again using
    ftp.uu.net as an example, the file newthisweek.Z can be
    retrieved with

    ftp> get newthisweek.Z
    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening ASCII mode data connection for newthisweek.Z (42390 bytes).
    226 Transfer complete.
    local: newthisweek.Z remote: newthisweek.Z
    42553 bytes received in 6.9 seconds (6 Kbytes/s)
    ftp>

    The section below on using binary mode instead of ASCII will describe
    why this particular choice will result in a corrupt and subsequently
    unusable file.

    If, for some reason, you want to save a file under a different name
    (e.g. your system can only have 14-character filenames, or can only
    have one dot in the name), you can specify what the local filename
    should be by providing get with an additional argument

    ftp> get newthisweek.Z uunet-new

    which will place the contents of the file newthisweek.Z in
    uunet-new on the local system.

    The transfer works the other way, too. The put command will
    transfer a file from the local system to the remote system. If the
    permissions are set up for an FTP session to write to a remote
    directory, a file can be sent with

    ftp> put filename

    As with get, put will take a third argument, letting you
    specify a different name for the file on the remote system.

    ASCII vs Binary

    In the example above, the file newthisweek.Z was transferred, but
    supposedly not correctly. The reason is this: in a normal ASCII
    transfer (the default), certain characters are translated between
    systems, to help make text files more readable. However, when binary
    files (those containing non-ASCII characters) are transferred, this
    translation should not take place. One example is a binary
    program—a few changed characters can render it completely useless.

    To avoid this problem, it's possible to be in one of two modes—ASCII
    or binary. In binary mode, the file isn't translated in any way.
    What's on the remote system is precisely what's received. The
    commands to go between the two modes are:

    ftp> ascii
    200 Type set to A. (Note the A, which signifies ASCII mode.)

    ftp> binary
    200 Type set to I. (Set to Image format, for pure binary transfers.)

    Note that each command need only be done once to take effect; if the
    user types binary, all transfers in that session are done in
    binary mode (that is, unless ascii is typed later).

    The transfer of newthisweek.Z will work if done as:

    ftp> binary
    200 Type set to I.
    ftp> get newthisweek.Z
    200 PORT command successful.
    150 Opening BINARY mode data connection for newthisweek.Z (42390 bytes).
    226 Transfer complete.
    local: newthisweek.Z remote: newthisweek.Z
    42390 bytes received in 7.2 seconds (5.8 Kbytes/s)

    Note: The file size (42390) is different from that done
    in ASCII mode (42553) bytes; and the number 42390 matches the one
    in the listing of UUNET's top directory. We can be relatively sure
    that we've received the file without any problems.

    mget and mput

    The commands mget and mput allow for multiple file
    transfers using wildcards to get several files, or a whole set of
    files at once, rather than having to do it manually one by one. For
    example, to get all files that begin with the letter f, one
    would type

    ftp> mget f*

    Similarly, to put all of the local files that end with .c:

    ftp> mput *.c

    Rather than reiterate what's been written a hundred times before,
    consult a local manual for more information on wildcard matching
    (every DOS manual, for example, has a section on it).

    Normally, FTP assumes a user wants to be prompted for every file in a
    mget or mput operation. You'll often need to get a whole set of
    files and not have each of them confirmed—you know they're all
    right. In that case, use the prompt command to turn the queries off.

    ftp> prompt
    Interactive mode off.

    Likewise, to turn it back on, the prompt command should simply
    be issued again.

    Joe Granrose's List
    Monthly, Joe Granrose (odin@pilot.njin.net) posts to Usenet
    (Usenet News) an extensive list of sites offering anonymous FTP
    service. It's available in a number of ways:

    The Usenet groups comp.misc and comp.sources.wanted

    Anonymous FTP from pilot.njin.net [128.6.7.38], in
    /pub/ftp-list.

    Write to odin@pilot.njin.net with a Subject: line of listserv-request
    and a message body of send help. Please don't bother Joe with your
    requests—the server will provide you with the list.

    The archie Server
    archie is always in lowercase

    A group of people at McGill University in Canada got together and created a
    query system called archie. It was originally formed to be a
    quick and easy way to scan the offerings of the many anonymous FTP
    sites that are maintained around the world. As time progressed,
    archie grew to include other valuable services as well.

    The archie service is accessible through an interactive telnet
    session, email queries, and command-line and X-window clients. The
    email responses can be used along with FTPmail servers for those not
    on the Internet. (FTP-by-Mail Servers, for info on using FTPmail
    servers.)

    Using archie Today

    Currently, archie tracks the contents of over 800 anonymous FTP
    archive sites containing over a million files stored across the
    Internet. Collectively, these files represent well over 50 gigabytes
    of information, with new entries being added daily.

    The archie server automatically updates the listing information from
    each site about once a month. This avoids constantly updating the
    databases, which could waste network resources, yet ensures that the
    information on each site's holdings is reasonably up to date.

    To access archie interactively, telnet to one of the existing
    servers. {See Telnet, for notes on using the telnet program.} They
    include

    archie.ans.net (New York, USA)
    archie.rutgers.edu (New Jersey, USA)
    archie.sura.net (Maryland, USA)
    archie.unl.edu (Nebraska, USA)
    archie.mcgill.ca (the first Archie server, in Canada)
    archie.funet.fi (Finland)
    archie.au (Australia)
    archie.doc.ic.ac.uk (Great Britain)

    At the login: prompt of one of the servers, enter archie to log in.
    A greeting will be displayed, detailing information about ongoing
    work in the archie project; the user will be left at a archie>
    prompt, at which he may enter commands. Using help will yield
    instructions on using the prog command to make queries, set to
    control various aspects of the server's operation, et al. Type quit
    at the prompt to leave archie. Typing the query prog vine.tar.Z will
    yield a list of the systems that offer the source to the X-windows
    program vine; a piece of the information returned looks like:

    Host ftp.uu.net (137.39.1.9)
    Last updated 10:30 7 Jan 1992

    Location: /packages/X/contrib
    FILE rw-r–r– 15548 Oct 8 20:29 vine.tar.Z

    Host nic.funet.fi (128.214.6.100)
    Last updated 05:07 4 Jan 1992

    Location: /pub/X11/contrib
    FILE rw-rw-r– 15548 Nov 8 03:25 vine.tar.Z

    archie Clients

    There are two main-stream archie clients, one called (naturally
    enough) archie, the other xarchie (for X-Windows). They query the
    archie databases and yield a list of systems that have the requested
    file(s) available for anonymous FTP, without requiring an interactive
    session to the server. For example, to find the same information you
    tried with the server command prog, you could type

    % archie vine.tar.Z
    Host athene.uni-paderborn.de
    Location: /local/X11/more_contrib
    FILE -rw-r–r– 18854 Nov 15 1990 vine.tar.Z

    Host emx.utexas.edu
    Location: /pub/mnt/source/games
    FILE -rw-r–r– 12019 May 7 1988 vine.tar.Z

    Host export.lcs.mit.edu
    Location: /contrib
    FILE -rw-r–r– 15548 Oct 9 00:29 vine.tar.Z

    Note that your system administrator may not have installed the archie
    clients yet; the source is available on each of the archie servers, in
    the directory archie/clients.

    Using the X-windows client is much more intuitive—if it's installed,
    just read its man page and give it a whirl. It's essential for the
    networked desktop.

    Mailing archie

    Users limited to email connectivity to the Internet should send a
    message to the address archie@archie.mcgill.ca with the single word
    help in the body of the message. An email message will be returned
    explaining how to use the email archie server, along with the details
    of using FTPmail. Most of the commands offered by the telnet
    interface can be used with the mail server.

    The whatis database

    In addition to offering access to anonymous FTP listings, archie also
    permits access to the whatis description database. It includes
    the names and brief synopses for over 3,500 public domain software
    packages, datasets and informational documents located on the
    Internet.

    Additional whatis databases are scheduled to be added in the
    future. Planned offerings include listings for the names and locations
    of online library catalog programs, the names of publicly accessible
    electronic mailing lists, compilations of Frequently Asked Questions
    lists, and archive sites for the most popular Usenet newsgroups.
    Suggestions for additional descriptions or locations databases are
    welcomed and should be sent to the archie developers at
    archie-l@cs.mcgill.ca.

    "Was f@"ur pl@"undern!"
    ("What a place to plunder!")
    Gebhard Leberecht Bl@"ucher

    ——
    Usenet News

    Original from: chip@count.tct.com (Chip Salzenberg)
    [Most recent change: 19 May 1991 by spaf@cs.purdue.edu (Gene Spafford)]

    The first thing to understand about Usenet is that it is widely
    misunderstood. Every day on Usenet the "blind men and the
    elephant" phenomenon appears, in spades. In the opinion of the
    author, more flame wars (rabid arguments) arise because of a
    lack of understanding of the nature of Usenet than from any other
    source. And consider that such flame wars arise, of necessity, among
    people who are on Usenet. Imagine, then, how poorly understood Usenet
    must be by those outside!

    No essay on the nature of Usenet can ignore the erroneous impressions
    held by many Usenet users. Therefore, this section will treat
    falsehoods first. Keep reading for truth. (Beauty, alas, is not
    relevant to Usenet.)

    What Usenet Is

    Usenet is the set of machines that exchange articles tagged with one
    or more universally-recognized labels, called newsgroups (or
    "groups" for short). (Note that the term newsgroup is correct,
    while area, base, board, bboard, conference, round table, SIG, etc.
    are incorrect. If you want to be understood, be accurate.)

    The Diversity of Usenet

    If the above definition of Usenet sounds vague, that's because it is.
    It is almost impossible to generalize over all Usenet sites in any
    non-trivial way. Usenet encompasses government agencies, large
    universities, high schools, businesses of all sizes, home computers of
    all descriptions, etc.

    Every administrator controls his own site. No one has any real
    control over any site but his own. The administrator gets his power
    from the owner of the system he administers. As long as the owner is
    happy with the job the administrator is doing, he can do whatever he
    pleases, up to and including cutting off Usenet entirely. C'est
    la vie.

    What Usenet Is Not

    Usenet is not an organization.
    Usenet has no central authority. In fact, it has no central anything.
    There is a vague notion of "upstream" and "downstream" related to
    the direction of high-volume news flow. It follows that, to the
    extent that "upstream" sites decide what traffic they will carry for
    their "downstream" neighbors, that "upstream" sites have some
    influence on their neighbors. But such influence is usually easy to
    circumvent, and heavy-handed manipulation typically results in a
    backlash of resentment.

    Usenet is not a democracy.
    A democracy can be loosely defined as "government of the people, by
    the people, for the people." However, as explained above, Usenet is
    not an organization, and only an organization can be run as a
    democracy. Even a democracy must be organized, for if it lacks a
    means of enforcing the peoples' wishes, then it may as well not exist.

    Some people wish that Usenet were a democracy. Many people pretend
    that it is. Both groups are sadly deluded.

    Usenet is not fair.
    After all, who shall decide what's fair? For that matter, if someone
    is behaving unfairly, who's going to stop him? Neither you nor I,
    that's certain.

    Usenet is not a right.
    Some people misunderstand their local right of "freedom of speech"
    to mean that they have a legal right to use others' computers to say
    what they wish in whatever way they wish, and the owners of said
    computers have no right to stop them.

    Those people are wrong. Freedom of speech also means freedom not to
    speak; if I choose not to use my computer to aid your speech, that is
    my right. Freedom of the press belongs to those who own one.

    Usenet is not a public utility.
    Some Usenet sites are publicly funded or subsidized. Most of them,
    by plain count, are not. There is no government monopoly on Usenet,
    and little or no control.

    Usenet is not a commercial network.
    Many Usenet sites are academic or government organizations; in fact,
    Usenet originated in academia. Therefore, there is a Usenet custom of
    keeping commercial traffic to a minimum. If such commercial traffic
    is generally considered worth carrying, then it may be grudgingly
    tolerated. Even so, it is usually separated somehow from
    non-commercial traffic; see comp.newprod.

    Usenet is not the Internet.
    The Internet is a wide-ranging network, parts of which are subsidized
    by various governments. The Internet carries many kinds of traffic;
    Usenet is only one of them. And the Internet is only one of the
    various networks carrying Usenet traffic.

    Usenet is not a Unix network, nor even an ASCII network.

    Don't assume that everyone is using "rn" on a Unix machine. There
    are Vaxen running VMS, IBM mainframes, Amigas, and MS-DOS PCs reading
    and posting to Usenet. And, yes, some of them use (shudder) EBCDIC.
    Ignore them if you like, but they're out there.

    Usenet is not software.
    There are dozens of software packages used at various sites to
    transport and read Usenet articles. So no one program or package can
    be called "the Usenet software."

    Software designed to support Usenet traffic can be (and is) used for
    other kinds of communication, usually without risk of mixing the two.
    Such private communication networks are typically kept distinct from
    Usenet by the invention of newsgroup names different from the
    universally-recognized ones.

    Usenet is not a UUCP network.

    UUCP is a protocol (some might say protocol suite, but that's a
    technical point) for sending data over point-to-point connections,
    typically using dialup modems. Usenet is only one of the various
    kinds of traffic carried via UUCP, and UUCP is only one of the various
    transports carrying Usenet traffic.

    Well, enough negativity.

    Propagation of News

    In the old days, when UUCP over long-distance dialup lines was the
    dominant means of article transmission, a few well-connected sites
    had real influence in determining which newsgroups would be carried
    where. Those sites called themselves "the backbone."

    But things have changed. Nowadays, even the smallest Internet site
    has connectivity the likes of which the backbone admin of yesteryear
    could only dream. In addition, in the U.S., the advent of cheaper
    long-distance calls and high-speed modems has made long-distance
    Usenet feeds thinkable for smaller companies. There is only one
    pre-eminent UUCP transport site today in the U.S., namely UUNET. But
    UUNET isn't a player in the propagation wars, because it never
    refuses any traffic—it gets paid by the minute, after all; to
    refuse based on content would jeopardize its legal status as an
    enhanced service provider.

    All of the above applies to the U.S. In Europe, different cost
    structures favored the creation of strictly controlled hierarchical
    organizations with central registries. This is all very unlike the
    traditional mode of U.S. sites (pick a name, get the software, get a
    feed, you're on). Europe's "benign monopolies", long uncontested,
    now face competition from looser organizations patterned after the
    U.S. model.

    Group Creation

    As discussed above, Usenet is not a democracy. Nevertheless,
    currently the most popular way to create a new newsgroup involves a
    "vote" to determine popular support for (and opposition to) a
    proposed newsgroup. Newsgroup Creation, for detailed instructions and
    guidelines on the process involved in making a newsgroup.

    If you follow the guidelines, it is probable that your group will be
    created and will be widely propagated. However, due to the nature of
    Usenet, there is no way for any user to enforce the results of a
    newsgroup vote (or any other decision, for that matter). Therefore,
    for your new newsgroup to be propagated widely, you must not only
    follow the letter of the guidelines; you must also follow its spirit.
    And you must not allow even a whiff of shady dealings or dirty tricks
    to mar the vote.

    So, you may ask: How is a new user supposed to know anything about the
    "spirit" of the guidelines? Obviously, she can't. This fact leads
    inexorably to the following recommendation:

    If you're a new user, don't try to create a new newsgroup alone.

    If you have a good newsgroup idea, then read the news.groups
    newsgroup for a while (six months, at least) to find out how things
    work. If you're too impatient to wait six months, then you really
    need to learn; read news.groups for a year instead. If you just
    can't wait, find a Usenet old hand to run the vote for you.

    Readers may think this advice unnecessarily strict. Ignore it at your
    peril. It is embarrassing to speak before learning. It is foolish to
    jump into a society you don't understand with your mouth open. And it
    is futile to try to force your will on people who can tune you out
    with the press of a key.

    If You're Unhappy…
    Property rights being what they are, there is no higher authority on
    Usenet than the people who own the machines on which Usenet traffic is
    carried. If the owner of the machine you use says, "We will not
    carry alt.sex on this machine," and you are not happy with
    that order, you have no Usenet recourse. What can we outsiders do,
    after all?

    That doesn't mean you are without options. Depending on the nature
    of your site, you may have some internal political recourse. Or you
    might find external pressure helpful. Or, with a minimal investment,
    you can get a feed of your own from somewhere else. Computers capable
    of taking Usenet feeds are down in the $500 range now, Unix-capable
    boxes are going for under $2000, and there are at least two Unix
    lookalikes in the $100 price range.

    No matter what, appealing to "Usenet" won't help. Even if those who
    read such an appeal regarding system administration are sympathetic to
    your cause, they will almost certainly have even less influence at
    your site than you do.

    By the same token, if you don't like what some user at another site is
    doing, only the administrator and/or owner of that site have any
    authority to do anything about it. Persuade them that the user in
    question is a problem for them, and they might do something (if they
    feel like it). If the user in question is the administrator or owner
    of the site from which he or she posts, forget it; you can't win.
    Arrange for your newsreading software to ignore articles from him or
    her if you can, and chalk one up to experience.

    The History of Usenet (The ABCs)

    In the beginning, there were conversations, and they were good. Then
    came Usenet in 1979, shortly after the release of V7 Unix with UUCP;
    and it was better. Two Duke University grad students in North
    Carolina, Tom Truscott and Jim Ellis, thought of hooking computers
    together to exchange information with the Unix community. Steve
    Bellovin, a grad student at the University of North Carolina, put
    together the first version of the news software using shell scripts
    and installed it on the first two sites: unc and duke. At the
    beginning of 1980 the network consisted of those two sites and phs
    (another machine at Duke), and was described at the January 1980
    Usenix conference in Boulder, CO. {The Usenix conferences are
    semi-annual meetings where members of the Usenix Association, a
    group of Unix enthusiasts, meet and trade notes.} Steve Bellovin
    later rewrote the scripts into C programs, but they were never
    released beyond unc and duke. Shortly thereafter, Steve Daniel did
    another implementation in the C programming language for public
    distribution. Tom Truscott made further modifications, and this
    became the "A" news release.

    In 1981 at the University of California at Berkeley, grad student Mark
    Horton and high school student Matt Glickman rewrote the news software
    to add functionality and to cope with the ever increasing volume of
    news—"A" news was intended for only a few articles per group per
    day. This rewrite was the "B" news version. The first public
    release was version 2.1 in 1982; all versions before 2.1 were
    considered in beta test. As The Net grew, the news software was
    expanded and modified. The last version maintained and released
    primarily by Mark was 2.10.1.

    Rick Adams, then at the Center for Seismic Studies, took over
    coordination of the maintenance and enhancement of the news software
    with the 2.10.2 release in 1984. By this time, the increasing volume
    of news was becoming a concern, and the mechanism for moderated groups
    was added to the software at 2.10.2. Moderated groups were inspired
    by ARPA mailing lists and experience with other bulletin board
    systems. In late 1986, version 2.11 of news was released, including a
    number of changes to support a new naming structure for newsgroups,
    enhanced batching and compression, enhanced ihave/sendme control
    messages, and other features. The current release of news is 2.11,
    patchlevel 19.

    A new version of news, becoming known as "C" news, has been
    developed at the University of Toronto by Geoff Collyer and Henry
    Spencer. This version is a rewrite of the lowest levels of news to
    increase article processing speed, decrease article expiration
    processing and improve the reliability of the news system through
    better locking, etc. The package was released to The Net in the
    autumn of 1987. For more information, see the paper News Need Not Be
    Slow, published in the Winter 1987 Usenix Technical Conference
    proceedings.

    Usenet software has also been ported to a number of platforms, from
    the Amiga and IBM PCs all the way to minicomputers and mainframes.

    Hierarchies
    Newsgroups are organized according to their specific areas of
    concentration. Since the groups are in a tree structure, the
    various areas are called hierarchies. There are seven major categories:

    comp
    Topics of interest to both computer professionals and
    hobbyists, including topics in computer science, software sources, and
    information on hardware and software systems.

    misc
    Group addressing themes not easily classified into any of the other
    headings or which incorporate themes from multiple categories.
    Subjects include fitness, job-hunting, law, and investments.

    sci
    Discussions marked by special knowledge relating to research in or
    application of the established sciences.

    soc
    Groups primarily addressing social issues and socializing. Included
    are discussions related to many different world cultures.

    talk
    Groups largely debate-oriented and tending to feature long
    discussions without resolution and without appreciable amounts of
    generally useful information.

    news
    Groups concerned with the news network, group maintenance, and software.

    rec
    Groups oriented towards hobbies and recreational activities

    These "world" newsgroups are (usually) circulated around the entire
    Usenet—this implies world-wide distribution. Not all groups
    actually enjoy such wide distribution, however. The European Usenet
    and Eunet sites take only a selected subset of the more "technical"
    groups, and controversial "noise" groups are often not carried by many
    sites in the U.S. and Canada (these groups are primarily under the talk
    and soc classifications). Many sites do not carry some or all of
    the comp.binaries groups because of the typically large size of
    the posts in them (being actual executable programs).

    Also available are a number of "alternative" hierarchies:

    alt
    True anarchy; anything and everything can and does appear;
    subjects include sex, the Simpsons, and privacy.

    gnu
    Groups concentrating on interests and software with the GNU
    Project of the Free Software Foundation. For further info on what the
    FSF is, FSF.

    biz
    Business-related groups.

    Moderated vs Unmoderated

    Some newsgroups insist that the discussion remain focused and
    on-target; to serve this need, moderated groups came to be. All
    articles posted to a moderated group get mailed to the group's
    moderator. He or she periodically (hopefully sooner than later)
    reviews the posts, and then either posts them individually to Usenet,
    or posts a composite digest of the articles for the past day or
    two. This is how many mailing list gateways work (for example, the
    Risks Digest).

    news.groups & news.announce.newgroups

    Being a good net.citizen includes being involved in the continuing
    growth and evolution of the Usenet system. One part of this
    involvement includes following the discussion in the groups
    news.groups and the notes in news.announce.newgroups. It is there
    that discussion goes on about the creation of new groups and
    destruction of inactive ones. Every person on Usenet is allowed and
    encouraged to vote on the creation of a newsgroup.

    How Usenet Works

    The transmission of Usenet news is entirely cooperative. Feeds are
    generally provided out of good will and the desire to distribute news
    everywhere. There are places which provide feeds for a fee (e.g.
    UUNET), but for the large part no exchange of money is involved.

    There are two major transport methods, UUCP and NNTP. The first is
    mainly modem-based and involves the normal charges for telephone
    calls. The second, NNTP, is the primary method for distributing news
    over the Internet.

    With UUCP, news is stored in batches on a site until the
    neighbor calls to receive the articles, or the feed site happens to
    call. A list of groups which the neighbor wishes to receive is
    maintained on the feed site. The Cnews system compresses its batches,
    which can dramatically reduce the transmission time necessary for a
    relatively heavy newsfeed.

    NNTP, on the other hand, offers a little more latitude with how news
    is sent. The traditional store-and-forward method is, of course,
    available. Given the "real-time" nature of the Internet, though,
    other methods have been devised. Programs now keep constant
    connections with their news neighbors, sending news nearly
    instantaneously, and can handle dozens of simultaneous feeds, both
    incoming and outgoing.

    The transmission of a Usenet article is centered around the unique
    Message-ID: header. When an NNTP site offers an article to a
    neighbor, it says it has that specific Message ID. If the neighbor
    finds it hasn't received the article yet, it tells the feed to send it
    through; this is repeated for each and every article that's waiting
    for the neighbor. Using unique IDs helps prevent a system from
    receiving five copies of an article from each of its five news
    neighbors, for example.

    Further information on how Usenet works with relation to the various
    transports is available in the documentation for the Cnews and NNTP
    packages, as well as in RFC-1036, the Standard for Interchange of
    USENET Messages and RFC-977, Network News Transfer Protocol: A
    Proposed Standard for the Stream-Based Transmission of News. The
    RFCs do tend to be rather dry reading, particularly to the new user.

    Mail Gateways

    A natural progression is for Usenet news and electronic mailing lists
    to somehow become merged—which they have, in the form of news
    gateways. Many mailing lists are set up to "reflect" messages not
    only to the readership of the list, but also into a newsgroup.
    Likewise, posts to a newsgroup can be sent to the moderator of the
    mailing list, or to the entire mailing list. Some examples of this in
    action are comp.risks (the Risks Digest) and
    comp.dcom.telecom (the Telecom Digest).

    This method of propagating mailing list traffic has helped solve the
    problem of a single message being delivered to a number of people at
    the same site—instead, anyone can just subscribe to the group.
    Also, mailing list maintenance is lowered substantially, since the
    moderators don't have to be constantly removing and adding users to
    and from the list. Instead, the people can read and not read the
    newsgroup at their leisure.

    from "Dear Emily Postnews" by Brad Templeton
    Usenet "Netiquette"

    There are many traditions with Usenet, not the least of which is
    dubbed netiquette—being polite and considerate of others. If
    you follow a few basic guidelines, you, and everyone that reads your
    posts, will be much happier in the long run.

    Signatures

    At the end of most articles is a small blurb called a person's
    signature. In Unix this file is named .signature in the
    person's login directory—it will vary for other operating systems.
    It exists to provide information about how to get in touch with the
    person posting the article, including their email address, phone
    number, address, or where they're located. Even so, signatures have
    become the graffiti of computers. People put song lyrics, pictures,
    philosophical quotes, even advertisements in their ".sigs".
    (Note, however, that advertising in your signature will more often
    than not get you flamed until you take it out.)

    Four lines will suffice—more is just extra garbage for Usenet sites
    to carry along with your article, which is supposed to be the intended
    focus of the reader. Netiquette dictates limiting oneself to this
    "quota" of four—some people make signatures that are ten lines or
    even more, including elaborate ASCII drawings of their hand-written
    signature or faces or even the space shuttle. This is not
    cute, and will bother people to no end.

    Similarly, it's not necessary to include your signature—if you
    forget to append it to an article, don't worry about it. The
    article's just as good as it ever would be, and contains everything
    you should want to say. Don't re-post the article just to include the
    signature.

    Posting Personal Messages

    If mail to a person doesn't make it through, avoid posting the message
    to a newsgroup. Even if the likelihood of that person reading the
    group is very high, all of the other people reading the articles don't
    give a whit what you have to say to Jim Morrison. Simply wait for the
    person to post again and double-check the address, or get in touch
    with your system administrator and see if it's a problem with local
    email delivery. It may also turn out that their site is down or is
    having problems, in which case it's just necessary to wait until
    things return to normal before contacting Jim.

    Posting Mail

    In the interests of privacy, it's considered extremely bad taste to post
    any email that someone may have sent, unless they explicitly give you
    permission to redistribute it. While the legal issues can be heavily
    debated, most everyone agrees that email should be treated as anything
    one would receive via normal snailmail, {The slang for the normal land and air
    postal service.} , with all of the assumed rights that are carried with it.

    Test Messages

    Many people, particularly new users, want to try out posting before
    actually taking part in discussions. Often the mechanics of getting
    messages out is the most difficult part of Usenet. To this end,
    many, many users find it necessary to post their tests to "normal"
    groups (for example, news.admin or comp.mail.misc). This is
    considered a major netiquette faux pas in the Usenet world. There are
    a number of groups available, called test groups, that exist solely
    for the purpose of trying out a news system, reader, or even new
    signature. They include

    alt.test
    gnu.gnusenet.test
    misc.test

    some of which will generate auto-magic replies to your posts to
    let you know they made it through. There are certain denizens of
    Usenet that frequent the test groups to help new users out. They
    respond to the posts, often including the article so the poster can
    see how it got to the person's site. Also, many regional hierarchies
    have test groups, like phl.test in Philadelphia.

    By all means, experiment and test—just do it in its proper place.

    Famous People Appearing

    Every once in a while, someone says that a celebrity is accessible
    through "The Net"; or, even more entertaining, an article is forged
    to appear to be coming from that celebrity. One example is Stephen
    Spielberg—the rec.arts.movies readership was in an uproar for
    two weeks following a couple of posts supposedly made by Mr.
    Spielberg. (Some detective work revealed it to be a hoax.)

    There are a few well-known people that are acquainted with
    Usenet and computers in general—but the overwhelming majority are
    just normal people. One should act with skepticism whenever a notable
    personality is "seen" in a newsgroup.

    Summaries

    Authors of articles occasionally say that readers should reply by
    mail and they'll summarize. Accordingly, readers should do just
    that—reply via mail. Responding with a followup article to such an
    article defeats the intention of the author. She, in a few days,
    will post one article containing the highlights of the responses she
    received. By following up to the whole group, the author may not
    read what you have to say.

    When creating a summary of the replies to a post, try to make it as
    reader-friendly as possible. Avoid just putting all of the messages
    received into one big file. Rather, take some time and edit the
    messages into a form that contains the essential information that
    other readers would be interested in.

    Also, sometimes people will respond but request to remain anonymous
    (one example is the employees of a corporation that feel the
    information's not proprietary, but at the same time want to protect
    themselves from political backlash). Summaries should honor this
    request accordingly by listing the From: address as
    anonymous or (Address withheld by request).

    Quoting

    When following up to an article, many newsreaders provide the facility
    to quote the original article with each line prefixed by >
    , as in

    In article <1232@foo.bar.com>, sharon@foo.bar.com wrote:
    > I agree, I think that basketweaving's really catching on,
    > particularly in Pennsylvania. Here's a list of every person
    > in PA that currently engages in it publicly:
    line … etc …

    This is a severe example (potentially a horribly long article), but
    proves a point. When you quote another person, edit out whatever
    isn't directly applicable to your reply. {But not changing their
    words, of course. } This gives the reader of the new article a better
    idea of what points you were addressing. By including the entire
    article, you'll only annoy those reading it. Also, signatures in the
    original aren't necessary; the readers already know who wrote it (by
    the attribution).

    Avoid being tedious with responses—rather than pick apart an
    article, address it in parts or as a whole. Addressing practically
    each and every word in an article only proves that the person
    responding has absolutely nothing better to do with his time.

    If a "war" starts (insults and personal comments get thrown back
    and forth), take it into email—exchange email with the person
    you're arguing with. No one enjoys watching people bicker
    incessantly.

    Crossposting

    The Newsgroups: line isn't limited to just one group—an
    article can be posted in a list of groups. For instance, the line

    Newsgroups: sci.space,comp.simulation

    posts the article to both the groups sci.space and
    comp.simulation. It's usually safe to crosspost to up to three
    or four groups. To list more than that is considered "excessive
    noise."

    It's also suggested that if an article is crossposted a
    Followup-To: header be included. It should name the group to
    which all additional discussion should be directed to. For the above
    example a possible Followup-To: would be

    Followup-To: sci.space

    which would make all followups automatically be posted to just
    sci.space, rather than both sci.space and comp.simulation. If every
    response made with a newsreader's "followup" command should go to
    the person posting the article no matter what, there's also a
    mechanism worked in to accommodate. The Followup-To: header should
    contain the single word poster:

    Followup-To: poster

    Certain newsreaders will use this to sense that a reply should never
    be posted back onto The Net. This is often used with questions that
    will yield a summary of information later, a vote, or an
    advertisement.

    Recent News

    One should avoid posting "recent" events—sports scores, a plane
    crash, or whatever people will see on the evening news or read in the
    morning paper. By the time the article has propagated across all of
    Usenet, the "news" value of the article will have become stale.
    (This is one case for the argument that Usenet news is a misnomer.
    {Note that the Clarinet News service (Clarinet) offers news items in
    a Usenet format as a precise alternative to the morning paper, et.
    al.)

    Quality of Postings

    How you write and present yourself in your articles is important. If
    you have terrible spelling, keep a dictionary near by. If you have
    trouble with grammar and punctuation, try to get a book on English
    grammar and composition (found in many bookstores and at garage
    sales). By all means pay attention to what you say—it makes you who
    you are on The Net.

    Likewise, try to be clear in what you ask. Ambiguous or vague
    questions often lead to no response at all, leaving the poster
    discouraged. Give as much essential information as you feel is
    necessary to let people help you, but keep it within limits. For
    instance, you should probably include the operating system of your
    computer in the post if it's needed, but don't tell everybody what
    peripherals you have hanging off of it.

    Useful Subjects

    The Subject: line of an article is what will first attract
    people to read it—if it's vague or doesn't describe what's contained
    within, no one will read the article. At the same time,
    Subject: lines that're too wordy tend to be irritating. For
    example:

    Good
    Subject: Building Emacs on a Sun Sparc under 4.1

    Good
    Subject: Tryin' to find Waldo in NJ.

    Bad
    Subject: I can't get emacs to work !!!

    Bad
    Subject: I'm desperately in search of the honorable Mr. Waldo in the state
    of…

    Simply put, try to think of what will best help the reader when he or
    she encounters your article in a newsreading session.

    Tone of Voice

    Since common computers can't portray the inflection or tone in a
    person's voice, how articles are worded can directly affect the
    response to them. If you say

    Anybody using a Vic-20 should go buy themselves a life.

    you'll definitely get some responses—telling you to take a leap.
    Rather than be inflammatory, phrase your articles in a way that
    rationally expresses your opinion, like

    What're the practical uses of a Vic-20 these days?

    which presents yourself as a much more level-headed individual.

    Also, what case (upper or lower) you use can indicate how you're
    trying to speak—netiquette dictates that if you USE ALL CAPITAL
    LETTERS, people will think you're "shouting." Write as you would in
    a normal letter to a friend, following traditional rules of English
    (or whatever language you happen to speak).

    Computer Religion

    No matter what kind of computer a person is using, theirs is always
    the best and most efficient of them all. Posting articles
    asking questions like What computer should I buy? An Atari ST or an
    Amiga? will lead only to fervent arguments over the merits and
    drawbacks of each brand. Don't even ask The Net—go to a local user
    group, or do some research of your own like reading some magazine
    reviews. Trying to say one computer is somehow better than another is
    a moot point.

    The Anatomy of an Article

    Frequently Asked Questions

    A number of groups include Frequently Asked Question (FAQ) lists,
    which give the answers to questions or points that have been raised
    time and time again in a newsgroup. They're intended to help cut
    down on the redundant traffic in a group. For example, in the
    newsgroup alt.tv.simpsons, one recurring question is Did you notice
    that there's a different blackboard opening at the beginning of every
    Simpsons episode? As a result, it's part of the FAQ for that group.

    Usually, FAQ lists are posted at the beginning of each month, and are
    set to expire one month later (when, supposedly, the next FAQ will be
    published). Nearly every FAQ is also crossposted to news.answers,
    which is used as a Usenet repository for them.

    The Pit-Manager Archive

    MIT, with Jonathan Kamens, has graciously dedicated a machine to the
    archiving and storage of the various periodic postings that are
    peppered throughout the various Usenet groups. To access them, FTP to
    the system pit-manager.mit.edu and look in the directory
    /pub/usenet.

    "Be it true or false, so it be news."
    Ben Jonson, News from the New World

    —–
    Telnet

    Telnet is the main Internet protocol for creating a connection
    with a remote machine. It gives the user the opportunity to be on one
    computer system and do work on another, which may be across the street
    or thousands of miles away. Where modems are limited, in the majority,
    by the quality of telephone lines and a single connection, telnet
    provides a connection that's error-free and nearly always faster than
    the latest conventional modems.

    Using Telnet

    As with FTP (Anonymous FTP), the actual command for negotiating a telnet
    connection varies from system to system. The most common is
    telnet itself, though. It takes the form of:

    telnet somewhere.domain

    To be safe, we'll use your local system as a working example. By now,
    you hopefully know your site's domain name. If not, ask or try
    to figure it out. You'll not get by without it.

    To open the connection, type

    telnet your.system.name

    If the system were wubba.cs.widener.edu, for example, the
    command would look like

    telnet wubba.cs.widener.edu

    The system will respond with something similar to

    Trying 147.31.254.999…
    Connected to wubba.cs.widener.edu.
    Escape character is '^]'.

    The escape character, in this example ^] (Control-]), is the
    character that will let you go back to the local system to close the
    connection, suspend it, etc. To close this connection, the user
    would type ^], and respond to the telnet> prompt with the command
    close. Local documentation should be checked for information on
    specific commands, functions, and escape character that can be used.

    Telnet Ports

    Many telnet clients also include a third option, the port on
    which the connection should take place. Normally, port 23 is the
    default telnet port; the user never has to think about it. But
    sometimes it's desirable to telnet to a different port on a system,
    where there may be a service available, or to aid in debugging a
    problem. Using

    telnet somewhere.domain port

    will connect the user to the given port on the system
    somewhere.domain. Many libraries use this port method to offer their
    facilities to the general Internet community; other services are also
    available. For instance, one would type

    telnet martini.eecs.umich.edu 3000

    to connect to the geographic server at the University of Michigan
    (Geographic Server). Other such port connections follow the
    same usage.

    Publicly Accessible Libraries

    Over the last several years, most university libraries have switched
    from a manual (card) catalog system to computerized library catalogs.
    The automated systems provide users with easily accessible and
    up-to-date information about the books available in these libraries.
    This has been further improved upon with the advent of local area
    networks, dialup modems, and wide area networks. Now many of us can
    check on our local library's holdings or that of a library halfway
    around the world!

    Many, many institutions of higher learning have made their library
    catalogs available for searching by anyone on the Internet. They
    include Boston University, the Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries
    (CARL), and London University King's College.

    To include a listing of some of the existing sites would not only be
    far too long for this document, it would soon be out of date.
    Instead, several lists are being maintained and are available either
    by mail or via FTP. Also, the Internet Resource Guide (IRG) also
    describes a few libraries that are accessible—IRG for further
    information.

    Art St. George and Ron Larsen are maintaining a list of
    Internet-accessible libraries and databases often referred to as
    "the St. George directory." It began with only library catalogs
    but has expanded to include sections on campus-wide information
    systems, and even bulletin board systems that are not on the
    Internet. The library catalog sections are divided into those that
    are free, those that charge, and international (i.e. non-U.S.)
    catalogs; they are arranged by state, province, or country within
    each section. There is also a section giving dialup information for
    some of the library catalogs. It's available for FTP (Anonymous FTP)
    on nic.cerf.net in the directory
    cerfnet/cerfnet_info/library_catalog. The file internet-catalogs has
    a date suffix; check for the most current date. The information is
    updated periodically.

    Billy Barron, Systems Manager at the University of North Texas,
    produces a directory as an aid to his user community. It complements
    the St. George guide by providing a standard format for all systems
    which lists the Internet address, login instructions, the system
    vendor, and logoff information. The arrangement is alphabetic by
    organization name. It's available for FTP on vaxb.acs.unt.edu in the
    subdirectory library as the file libraries.txt.

    For announcements of new libraries being available and discussion on
    related topics, consult the Usenet newsgroup
    comp.internet.library (Usenet News to learn how to read
    news).

    Bulletin Board Systems

    The Cleveland Freenet

    Freenets are open-access, free, community computer systems. One such
    system is the Cleveland Freenet, sponsored by CWRU (Case Western
    Reserve University). Anyone and everyone is welcome to join and take
    part in the exciting project—that of a National Telecomputing Public
    Network, where everyone benefits. There's no charge for the
    registration process and no charge to use the system.

    To register, telnet to any one of

    freenet-in-a.cwru.edu
    freenet-in-b.cwru.edu
    freenet-in-c.cwru.edu

    After you're connected, choose the entry on the menu that signifies
    you're a guest user. Another menu will follow; select Apply for
    an account, and you'll be well on your way to being a FreeNet member.

    You will need to fill out a form and send it to them through the
    Postal Service—your login id and password will be created in a few
    days. At that point you're free to use the system as you wish. They
    provide multi-user chat, email, Usenet news, and a variety of other
    things to keep you occupied for hours on end.

    Directories

    There are a few systems that are maintained to provide the Internet
    community with access to lists of information—users, organizations,
    etc. They range from fully dedicated computers with access to papers
    and research results, to a system to find out about the faculty
    members of a university.

    Knowbot

    Knowbot is a "master directory" that contains email address
    information from the NIC WHOIS database (Whois), the PSI White
    Pages Pilot Project, the NYSERNET X.500 database and MCI Mail. Most
    of these services are email registries themselves, but Knowbot
    provides a very comfortable way to access all of them in one place.
    Telnet to nri.reston.va.us on port 185.

    White Pages

    PSI maintains a directory of information on individuals. It will
    list the person's name, organization, and email address if it is
    given. Telnet to wp.psi.net and log in as fred. The White Pages
    Project also includes an interface to use Xwindows remotely.

    Faculty and Staff Listings

    Many universities offer access to information on current faculty and
    staff. Included are:

    Cornell Telnet to cuinfo.cornell.edu on port 3000.
    NC State Telnet to ccvax1.cc.ncsu.edu and log in as info.
    Rutgers Telnet to hangout.rutgers.edu on port 98.
    U of Maryland Telnet to umail.umd.edu and log in as lookup.
    UNC Chapel Hill Telnet to info.acs.unc.edu and log in as info.
    Yale Telnet to yalevm.ycc.yale.edu on port 300.

    Databases

    For information on database services, Commercial Databases.
    Not all databases on the Internet require payment for use, though.
    There do exist some, largely research-driven databases, which are
    publicly accessible. New ones spring up regularly.

    To find out more about the databases in this section, contact the
    people directly responsible for them. Their areas of concentration
    and the software used to implement them are widely disparate, and are
    probably beyond the author's expertise. Also, don't forget to check
    with your local library—the reference librarian there can provide
    information on conventional resources, and possibly even those
    available over the Internet (they are becoming more common).

    Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries (CARL)

    The Colorado Alliance of Research Libraries (CARL), in association
    with CARL Systems Inc., operates a public access catalog of services.
    Offered are a number of library databases, including searches for
    government periodicals, book reviews, indices for current articles,
    and access to to other library databases around the country. Other
    services are available to CARL members including an online
    encyclopedia. Telnet to pac.carl.org, or write to help@carl.org for
    more details.

    PENpages

    PENpages is an agriculturally-oriented database administered by
    Pennsylvania State University. Information entered into PENpages is
    provided by numerous sources including the Pennsylvania Dept. of
    Agriculture, Rutgers University, and Penn State. Easy-to-use menus
    guide users to information ranging from cattle and agricultural
    prices to current weather information, from health information to
    agricultural news from around the nation. A keyword search option
    also allows users to search the database for related information and
    articles. The database is updated daily, and a listing of most
    recent additions is displayed after login. Telnet to psupen.psu.edu
    and log in as the user PNOTPA.

    Clemson Univ. Forestry & Agricultural Network

    Clemson maintains a database similar to PENpages in content, but the
    information provided tends to be localized to the Southeastern United
    States. A menu-driven database offers queries involving the weather,
    food, family, and human resources. Telnet to eureka.clemson.edu and
    log in as PUBLIC. You need to be on a good VT100 emulator (or a real
    VT terminal).

    University of Maryland Info Database

    The Computer Science department of the University of Maryland
    maintains a repository of information on a wide variety of topics.
    They wish to give a working example of how network technology can
    (and should) provide as much information as possible to those who use
    it. Telnet to info.umd.edu and log in as info. The information
    contained in the database is accessible through a screen-oriented
    interface, and everything therein is available via anonymous FTP.

    There is a mailing list used to discuss the UMD Info Database,
    welcoming suggestions for new information, comments on the interface
    the system provides, and other related topics. Send mail to
    listserv@umdd.umd.edu with a body of

    subscribe INFO-L Your Full Name

    Listservs for more information on using the Listserv system.

    University of Michigan Weather Underground

    The University of Michigan's Department of Atmospheric, Oceanic, &
    Space Sciences maintains a database of weather and related
    information for the United States and Canada. Available are current
    weather conditions and forecasts for cities in the U.S., a national
    weather summary, ski conditions, earthquake and hurricane updates,
    and a listing of severe weather conditions. Telnet to
    madlab.sprl.umich.edu on port 3000 to use the system.

    Geographic Name Server

    A geographic database listing information for cities in the United
    States and some international locations is maintained by Merit, Inc.
    The database is searchable by city name, zip code, etc. It will
    respond with a lot of information: the area code,
    elevation, time zone, and longitude and latitude are included. For
    example, a query of 19013 yields

    0 Chester
    1 42045 Delaware
    2 PA Pennsylvania
    3 US United States
    F 45 Populated place
    L 39 50 58 N 75 21 22 W
    P 45794
    E 22
    Z 19013
    Z 19014
    Z 19015
    Z 19016
    ..

    To use the server, telnet to martini.eecs.umich.edu on port
    3000. The command help will yield further instructions, along
    with an explanation for each of the fields in a reponse.

    FEDIX—Minority Scholarship Information

    FEDIX is an on-line information service that links the higher
    education community and the federal government to facilitate research,
    education, and services. The system provides accurate and timely
    federal agency information to colleges, universities, and other
    research organizations. There are no registration fees and no access
    charges for FEDIX whatsoever.

    FEDIX offers the Minority On-Line Information Service (MOLIS), a
    database listing current information about Black and Hispanic colleges
    and universities.

    Daily information updates are made on federal education and research
    programs, scholarships, fellowships, and grants, available used
    research equipment, and general information about FEDIX itself. To
    access the database, telnet to fedix.fie.com and log in as
    fedix.

    Science & Technology Information System

    The STIS is maintained by the National Science Foundation (NSF), and
    provides access to many NSF publications. The full text of
    publications can be searched online and copied from the system, which
    can accommodate up to ten users at one time. Telnet to stis.nsf.gov
    and log in as public. Everything on the system is also available via
    anonymous FTP. For further information, contact:

    STIS, Office of Information Systems, Room 401
    National Science Foundation
    1800 G. Street, N.W.
    Washington, D.C. 20550
    stis-request@nsf.gov
    (202) 357-7492
    (202) 357-7663 (Fax)

    Ocean Network Information Center

    The University of Delaware College of Marine Studies offers access to
    an interactive database of research information covering all aspects
    of marine studies, nicknamed OCEANIC. This includes the World Oceanic
    Circulation Experiment (WOCE) information and program information,
    research ship schedules and information, and a Who's Who of email and
    mailing addresses for oceanic studies. Data from a variety of
    academic institutions based on research studies is also available.
    Telnet to delocn.udel.edu and log in as INFO.

    NASA/IPAC Extragalactic Database (NED)

    The NASA/IPAC Extragalactic Database (NED) is an ongoing project,
    funded by NASA, to make data and literature on extragalactic objects
    available over computer networks. NED is an object-oriented database
    which contains extensive information for nearly 132,000 extragalactic
    objects taken from about major catalogs of galaxies, quasars, infrared
    and radio sources. NED provides positions, names, and other basic
    data (e.g. magnitude types, sizes and redshifts as well as
    bibliographic references and abstracts). Searches can be done by
    name, around a name, and on an astronomical position. NED contains a
    tutorial which guides the user through the retrieval process. Telnet
    to ipac.caltech.edu and log in as ned.

    U.S. Naval Observatory Automated Data Service

    Operated by the U.S. Naval Observatory in Washington, D.C., this
    automated data service provides database access to information
    ranging from current navigational satellite positioning, astronomical
    data, and software utilities. A wide variety of databases can be
    searched and instructions for file transfer are given. Telnet to
    tycho.usno.navy.mil and log in as ads.

    "My consciousness suddenly switched locations, for the first time in
    my life, from the vicinity of my head and body to a point about
    twenty feet away from where I normally see the world." Howard
    Rheingold, Virtual Reality p255

    —————–
    Various Tools

    New and interesting ways to use the Internet are being dreamed up
    every day. As they gain wide-spread use, some methods become
    near-standard (or actual written standard) tools for Internet users to
    take advantage of. A few are detailed here; there are undoubtedly
    others, and new ideas spring up all the time. An active user of the
    Internet will discover most of the more common ones in time. Usually,
    these services are free. Commercial Services for applications
    that are commercially available over the Internet.

    Usenet is often used to announce a new service or capability on
    the Internet. In particular, the groups comp.archives and
    comp.protocols.tcp-ip are good places to look. Information
    will drift into other areas as word spreads. Usenet News for
    information on reading news.

    Finger

    On many systems there exists the finger command, which yield
    information about each user that's currently logged in. This command
    also has extensions for use over the Internet, as well. Under normal
    circumstances, the command is simply finger for a summary of who's
    logged into the local system, or finger username for specific
    information about a user. It's also possible to go one step further
    and go onto the network. The general usage is

    finger @hostname

    To see who's currently logged in at Widener University, for instance, use

    % finger @cs.widener.edu
    [cs.widener.edu]
    Login Name TTY Idle When Where
    brendan Brendan Kehoe p0 Fri 02:14 tattoo.cs.widene
    sven Sven Heinicke p1 Fri 04:16 xyplex3.cs.widen

    To find out about a certain user, they can be fingered specifically
    (and need not be logged in):

    % finger bart@cs.widener.edu
    [cs.widener.edu]
    Login name: bart In real life: Bart Simpson
    Directory: /home/springfield/bart Shell: /bin/underachiever
    Affiliation: Brother of Lisa Home System: channel29.fox.org
    Last login Thu May 23 12:14 (EDT) on ttyp6 from channel29.fox.org.
    No unread mail
    Project: To become a "fluff" cartoon character.
    Plan:
    Don't have a cow, man.

    Please realize that some sites are very security conscious, and need
    to restrict the information about their systems and users available
    to the outside world. To that end, they often block finger requests
    from outside sites—so don't be surprised if fingering a computer or
    a user returns with Connection refused.

    Internet Relay Chat

    The Lamont View Server System
    On lamont.ldgo.columbia.edu in pub/gb.tar.Z.

    Ping

    The ping command allows the user to check if another system is
    currently "up" and running. The general form of the command
    is ping system. {The usage will, again, vary.}
    For example,

    ping cs.widener.edu

    will tell you if the main machine in Widener University's Computer
    Science lab is currently online (we certainly hope so!).

    Many implementations of ping also include an option to let you
    see how fast a link is running (to give you some idea of the load on
    the network). For example:

    % ping -s cs.swarthmore.edu
    PING cs.swarthmore.edu: 56 data bytes
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=0 ttl=251 time=66 ms
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=1 ttl=251 time=45 ms
    64 bytes from 130.58.68.1: icmp_seq=2 ttl=251 time=46 ms
    ^C
    — cs.swarthmore.edu ping statistics —
    3 packets transmitted, 3 packets received, 0% packet loss
    round-trip min/avg/max = 45/52/66 ms

    This case tells us that for cs.swarthmore.edu it takes about 46
    milliseconds for a packet to go from Widener to Swarthmore College and
    back again. It also gives the average and worst-case speeds, and any
    packet loss that may have occurred (e.g. because of network
    congestion).

    While ping generally doesn't hurt network performance, you
    shouldn't use it too often—usually once or twice will leave
    you relatively sure of the other system's state.

    Talk

    Sometimes email is clumsy and difficult to manage when one really
    needs to have an interactive conversation. The Internet provides for
    that as well, in the form of talk. Two users can literally see
    each other type across thousands of miles.

    To talk with Bart Simpson at Widener, one would type

    talk bart@@cs.widener.edu

    which would cause a message similar to the following to be displayed
    on Bart's terminal:

    Message from Talk_Daemon@cs.widener.edu at 21:45 …
    talk: connection requested by joe@ee.someplace.edu
    talk: respond with: talk joe@ee.someplace.edu

    Bart would, presumably, respond by typing talk joe@ee.someplace.edu.
    They could then chat about whatever they wished, with instantaneous
    response time, rather than the write-and-wait style of email. To
    leave talk, on many systems one would type Ctrl-C (hold down
    the Control key and press C). Check local documentation to be sure.

    There are two different versions of talk in common use today. The
    first, dubbed "old talk," is supported by a set of Unix systems
    (most notably, those currently sold by Sun). The second, ntalk
    (aka "new talk"), is more of the standard. If, when attempting to
    talk with another user, it responds with an error about protocol
    families, odds are the incompatibilities between versions of talk is
    the culprit. It's up to the system administrators of sites which use
    the old talk to install ntalk for their users.

    Wide Area Information Servers (WAIS)

    The WHOIS Database

    The main WHOIS database is run at the Network Information Center
    (NIC). The whois command will let you search a database of every
    registered domain (e.g. mit.edu) and of registered users. It's
    primarily used by system postmasters or listowners to find the Points
    of Contact for a site, to let them know of a problem or contact them
    for one reason or another. You can also find out their postal
    address. For example:

    % whois mit.edu
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) MIT.EDU 18.72.2.1
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT-DOM) MIT.EDU

    Note that there are two entries for mit.edu; we'll go for the
    second.

    % whois mit-dom
    Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT-DOM)
    Cambridge, MA 02139

    Domain Name: MIT.EDU

    Administrative Contact, Technical Contact, Zone Contact:
    Schiller, Jeffrey I. (JIS) JIS@MIT.EDU
    (617) 253-8400

    Record last updated on 22-Jun-88.

    Domain servers in listed order:
    STRAWB.MIT.EDU 18.71.0.151
    W20NS.MIT.EDU 18.70.0.160
    BITSY.MIT.EDU 18.72.0.3
    LITHIUM.LCS.MIT.EDU 18.26.0.121

    To see this host record with registered users, repeat the command with
    a star ('*') before the name; or, use '%' to show JUST the registered users.

    Much better! Now this information (sought, possibly, by a system
    administrator) can be used to find out how to notify MIT of a security
    issue or problem with connectivity.

    Queries can be made for individuals as well; the following would yield
    an entry for the author:

    % whois brendan
    Kehoe, Brendan (BK59) brendan@cs.widener.edu
    Widener University
    Department of Computer Science
    Kirkbride 219
    P.O. Box 83 Widener University
    Chester, PA 19013
    (215)/499-4011

    Record last updated on 02-May-91.

    Included is the author's name, his handle (a unique sequence of letters
    and numbers), information on how to contact him, and the last time the record
    was modified in any way.

    Anyone can register with the whois database. People who are
    administrative or technical contacts for domains are registered
    automatically when their domain applications are processed. For
    normal users, one must simply fill out a form from the NIC. FTP to
    nic.ddn.mil and get the file netinfo/user-template.txt. The completed
    form should be mailed to registrar@nic.ddn.mil.

    Other Uses of WHOIS

    Also, many educational sites run WHOIS servers of their own, to offer
    information about people who may be currently on the staff or
    attending the institution. To specify a WHOIS server, many
    implementations include some sort of option or qualifier—in VMS
    under MultiNet, it's /HOST, in Unix -h. To receive
    information about using the Stanford server, one might use the command

    whois -h stanford.edu help

    A large list of systems offering WHOIS services is being maintained by
    Matt Power of MIT (mhpower@stan.mit.edu). It is available via
    anonymous FTP from sipb.mit.edu, in the directory
    pub/whois. The file is named whois-servers.list.

    The systems available include, but are certainly not limited to,
    Syracuse University (syr.edu), New York University
    (acfcluster.nyu.edu), the University of California at San Diego
    (ucsd.edu), and Stanford University (stanford.edu).

    "Fingers were made before forks."
    Jonathan Swift, Polite Conversation

    ——-
    Commercial Services

    Many services can be accessed through the Internet. As time
    progresses and more outlets for commercial activity appear,
    once-restricted traffic (by the NSFnet Acceptable Use Policy) may now
    flow freely. Now that there are other networks for that information
    to travel on, businesses are making their move.

    Internet Service Providers

    Providers (AlterNet, PSI, etc)…

    Supercomputers
    The Internet Resource Guide (IRG) contains a chapter on
    computer time that's available for a fee. Rather than reproduce it
    here, which would fast become out-of-date as well as triple the size
    of this guide, it's suggested that the reader consult the IRG if such
    services are of interest.

    Electronic Journals

    The Association of Research Libraries (ARL) publishes a hard-copy
    directory of electronic journals, newsletters, and scholarly
    discussion lists. It is a compilation of entries for hundreds of

    sts, dozens of journals and newsletters, and a many
    "other" titles, including newsletter-digests, into one reference
    source. Each entry includes instructions on how to access the
    referenced publication or list.

    The documents are available electronically by sending the commands

    get ejournl1 directry
    get ejournl2 directry

    to the server at LISTSERV@OTTAWA.BITNET.
    Listservs for further instructions on using a listserv.

    The directory, along with a compilation by Diane Kovacs called
    Directories of Academic E-Mail Conferences, is available in
    print and on diskette (DOS WordPerfect and MacWord) from:

    Office of Scientific & Academic Publishing
    Association of Research Libraries
    1527 New Hampshire Avenue, NW
    Washington, DC 20036
    ARLHQ@UMDC.BITNET
    (202) 232–2466
    (202) 462–7849 (Fax)

    The ARL is a not-for-profit organization representing over one
    hundred research libraries in the United States and Canada. The
    publication is available to ARL members for $10 and to non-members
    for $20 (add $5 postage per directory for foreign addresses). Orders
    of six or more copies will receive a 10% discount; all orders must be
    prepaid and sent to the ARL.

    Commercial Databases

    The American Institute of Physics maintains the Physics Information
    Network. It contains the bibliographic SPIN and General Physics
    Advanced Abstracts databases. Also available is access to bulletin
    boards and several searchable lists (job notices, announcements, etc).
    Telnet to pinet.aip.org; new users must log in as NEW
    and give registration information.

    Some of the databases accessible through WAIS (WAIS) are
    available for a fee.

    Clarinet News

    Clarinet's an electronic publishing network service that provides
    professional news and information, including live UPI wireservice
    news, in the Usenet file format.

    Clarinet lets you read an "electronic newspaper" right on the local
    system; you can get timely industry news, technology related
    wirestories, syndicated columns and features, financial information,
    stock quotes and more.

    Clarinet's provided by using the Usenet message interchange format,
    and is available via UUCP and other delivery protocols, including
    NNTP.

    The main feature is ClariNews, an "electronic newspaper,"
    gathered live from the wire services of United Press International
    (UPI). ClariNews articles are distributed in 100 newsgroups based on
    their subject matter, and are keyworded for additional topics and the
    geographical location of the story. ClariNews includes headlines,
    industry news, box scores, network TV schedules, and more. The main
    products of ClariNews are:

    ClariNews General, the general news"paper" with news,
    sports, and features, averaging about 400 stories per day.

    TechWire, special groups for stories on science,
    technology, and industry stories around them.

    ClariNews-Biz, business and financial stories.

    Newsbytes, a daily computer industry newsmagazine.

    Syndicated Columns, including Dave Barry (humor) and Mike
    Royko (opinion).

    Full information on ClariNet, including subscription information, is
    available from

    Clarinet Communications Corp.
    124 King St. North
    Waterloo, Ontario N2J 2X8
    info@@clarinet.com
    (800) USE-NETS

    or with anonymous FTP in the directory /Clarinet on
    ftp.uu.net (Anonymous FTP).

    "Needless to say, Aristotle did not envisage modern finance."
    Frederick Copleston, S.J.
    A History of Philosophy: Vol 1 Greece & Rome Part II, p95

    ———
    Things You'll Hear About

    There are certain things that you'll hear about shortly after you
    start actively using the Internet. Most people assume that everyone's
    familiar with them, and they require no additional explanation. If
    only that were true!

    This section addresses a few topics that are commonly encountered and
    asked about as a new user explores Cyberspace. Some of them are
    directly related to how the networks are run today; other points are
    simply interesting to read about.

    The Internet Worm

    from a letter by Severo M. Ornstein, in ACM June 89 Vol32 No6
    and the appeal notice

    On November 2, 1988, Robert Morris, Jr., a graduate student in
    Computer Science at Cornell, wrote an experimental, self-replicating,
    self-propagating program called a worm and injected it into the
    Internet. He chose to release it from MIT, to disguise the fact that
    the worm came from Cornell. Morris soon discovered that the program
    was replicating and reinfecting machines at a much faster rate than
    he had anticipated—there was a bug. Ultimately, many machines at
    locations around the country either crashed or became "catatonic."
    When Morris realized what was happening, he contacted a friend at
    Harvard to discuss a solution. Eventually, they sent an anonymous
    message from Harvard over the network, instructing programmers how to
    kill the worm and prevent reinfection. However, because the network
    route was clogged, this message did not get through until it was too
    late. Computers were affected at many sites, including universities,
    military sites, and medical research facilities. The estimated cost
    of dealing with the worm at each installation ranged from $200 to
    more than $53,000. {Derived in part from a letter by Severo M.
    Ornstein, in the Communications of the ACM, Vol 32 No 6, June 1989.}

    The program took advantage of a hole in the debug mode of the Unix
    sendmail program, which runs on a system and waits for other systems
    to connect to it and give it email, and a hole in the finger daemon
    fingerd, which serves finger requests (Finger). People at the
    University of California at Berkeley and MIT had copies of the
    program and were actively disassembling it (returning the program
    back into its source form) to try to figure out how it worked.

    Teams of programmers worked non-stop to come up with at least a
    temporary fix, to prevent the continued spread of the worm. After
    about twelve hours, the team at Berkeley came up with steps that
    would help retard the spread of the virus. Another method was also
    discovered at Purdue and widely published. The information didn't
    get out as quickly as it could have, however, since so many sites had
    completely disconnected themselves from the network.

    After a few days, things slowly began to return to normalcy and
    everyone wanted to know who had done it all. Morris was later named
    in The New York Times as the author (though this hadn't yet been
    officially proven, there was a substantial body of evidence pointing
    to Morris).

    Robert T. Morris was convicted of violating the computer Fraud and
    Abuse Act (Title 18), and sentenced to three years of probation, 400
    hours of community service, a fine of $10,050, and the costs of his
    supervision. His appeal, filed in December, 1990, was rejected the
    following March.

    The Cuckoo's Egg

    First in an article entitled "Stalking the Wily Hacker," and later
    in the book The Cuckoo's Egg, Clifford Stoll detailed his experiences
    trying to track down someone breaking into a system at Lawrence
    Berkeley Laboratory in California. {See the bibliography for full
    citations.}

    A 75-cent discrepancy in the Lab's accounting records led Stoll on a
    chase through California, Virginia, and Europe to end up in a small
    apartment in Hannover, West Germany. Stoll dealt with many levels of
    bureaucracy and red tape, and worked with the FBI, the CIA, and the
    German Bundespost trying to track his hacker down.

    The experiences of Stoll, and particularly his message in speaking
    engagements, have all pointed out the dire need for communication
    between parties on a network of networks. The only way everyone can
    peacefully co-exist in Cyberspace is by ensuring rapid recognition of
    any existing problems.

    Organizations

    The indomitable need for humans to congregate and share their common
    interests is also present in the computing world. User groups
    exist around the world, where people share ideas and experiences.
    Similarly, there are organizations which are one step "above" user
    groups; that is to say, they exist to encourage or promote an idea or
    set of ideas, rather than support a specific computer or application
    of computers.

    The Association for Computing Machinery

    The Association for Computing Machinery (the ACM) was founded in
    1947, immediately after Eckert and Mauchly unveiled one of the first
    electronic computers, the ENIAC, in 1946. Since then, the ACM has
    grown by leaps and bounds, becoming one of the leading educational
    and scientific societies in the computer industry.

    The ACM's stated purposes are:

    To advance the sciences and arts of information processing;

    To promote the free interchange of information about the sciences and
    arts of information processing both among specialists and among the
    public;

    To develop and maintain the integrity and competence of individuals
    engaged in the practices of the sciences and arts of information
    processing.

    Membership in the ACM has grown from seventy-eight in September, 1947,
    to over 77,000 today. There are local chapters around the world, and
    many colleges and universities endorse student chapters. Lecturers
    frequent these meetings, which tend to be one step above the normal
    "user group" gathering. A large variety of published material is
    also available at discounted prices for members of the association.

    The ACM has a number of Special Interest Groups (SIGs) that
    concentrate on a certain area of computing, ranging from graphics to
    the Ada programming language to security. Each of the SIGs also
    publishes its own newsletter. There is a Usenet group, comp.org.acm,
    for the discussion of ACM topics. Usenet News for more information
    on reading news.

    For more information and a membership application, write to:

    Assocation for Computing Machinery
    1515 Broadway
    New York City, NY 10036
    ACMHELP@ACMVM.BITNET
    (212) 869-7440

    Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility
    from their letter to prospective members

    The CPSR is an alliance of computer professionals concentrating on
    certain areas of the impact of computer technology on society. It
    traces its history to the fall of 1981, when several researchers in
    Palo Alto, California, organized a lunch meeting to discuss their
    shared concerns about the connection between computing and the
    nuclear arms race. Out of that meeting and the discussions which
    followed, CPSR was born, and has been active ever since. {This
    section is part of the CPSR's letter to prospective members.}

    The national CPSR program focuses on the following project areas:

    Reliability and Risk This area reflects on the concern that
    overreliance on computing technology can lead to unacceptable risks
    to society. It includes, but isn't limited to, work in analyzing
    military systems such as SDI.

    Civil Liberties and Privacy This project is concerned with such
    topics as the FBI National Crime Information Center, the growing use
    of databases by both government and private industry, the right of
    access to public information, extension of First Amendment rights to
    electronic communication, and establishing legal protections for
    privacy of computerized information.

    Computers in the Workplace The CPSR Workplace Project has
    concentrated its attention on the design of software for the
    workplace, and particularly on the philosophy of "participatory
    design," in which software designers work together with users to
    ensure that systems meet the actual needs of that workplace.

    The 21st Century Project This is a coalition with other
    professional organizations working towards redirecting national
    research priorities from concentrating on military issues to
    anticipating and dealing with future problems as science and
    technology enter the next century.

    For more information on the CPSR, contact them at:

    Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility
    P.O. Box 717
    Palo Alto, CA 94302
    cpsr@csli.stanford.edu
    (415) 322–3778
    (415) 322–3798 (Fax)

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) was established to help
    civilize the "electronic frontier"—the Cyberspacial medium
    becoming ever-present in today's society; to make it truly useful and
    beneficial not just to a technical elite, but to everyone; and to do
    this in a way which is in keeping with the society's highest
    traditions of the free and open flow of information and
    communication. {This section was derived from eff.about, available
    along with other material via anonymous FTP from ftp.eff.org}

    The mission of the EFF is to engage in and support educational
    activities which increase popular understanding of the opportunities
    and challenges posed by developments in computing and
    telecommunications;

    to develop among policy-makers a better understanding of the
    issues underlying free and open telecommunications, and support the
    creation of legal and structural approaches which will ease the
    assimilation of these new technologies by society;

    to raise public awareness about civil liberties issues arising from
    the rapid advancement in the area of new computer-based
    communications media and, where necessary, support litigation in the
    public interest to preserve, protect, and extend First Amendment
    rights within the realm of computing and telecommunications
    technology;

    to encourage and support the development of new tools which will
    endow non-technical users with full and easy access to computer-based
    telecommunications;

    The Usenet newsgroups comp.org.eff.talk and comp.org.eff.news are
    dedicated to discussion concerning the EFF. They also have mailing
    list counterparts for those that don't have access to Usenet,
    eff-talk-request@eff.org and eff-news-request@eff.org. The first is
    an informal arena (aka a normal newsgroup) where anyone may voice his
    or her opinions. The second, comp.org.eff.news, is a moderated area
    for regular postings from the EFF in the form of EFFector Online. To
    submit a posting for the EFFector Online, or to get general
    information about the EFF, write to eff@eff.org. There is also a
    wealth of information available via anonymous FTP on ftp.eff.org.

    The EFF can be contacted at

    The Electronic Frontier Foundation, Inc.
    155 Second St. #1
    Cambridge, MA 02141
    eff@eff.org
    (617) 864-0665
    (617) 864-0866 (Fax)

    The Free Software Foundation

    The Free Software Foundation was started by Richard Stallman (creator
    of the popular GNU Emacs editor). It is dedicated to eliminating
    restrictions on copying, redistributing, and modifying software.

    The word "free" in their name does not refer to price; it refers to
    freedom. First, the freedom to copy a program and redistribute it to
    your neighbors, so that they can use it as well as you. Second, the
    freedom to change a program, so that you can control it instead of it
    controlling you; for this, the source code must be made available to
    you.

    The Foundation works to provide these freedoms by developing free
    compatible replacements for proprietary software. Specifically, they
    are putting together a complete, integrated software system called
    "GNU" that is upward-compatible with Unix. {As an aside, the editor
    of the GNU project, emacs, contains a built-in LISP interpreter and a
    large part of its functionality is written in LISP. The name GNU is
    itself recursive (the mainstay of the LISP language); it stands for
    "Gnu's Not Unix."}

    When it is released, everyone will be permitted to copy it and
    distribute it to others. In addition, it will be distributed with
    source code, so you will be able to learn about operating systems by
    reading it, to port it to your own machine, and to exchange the
    changes with others.

    For more information on the Free Software Foundation and the status of
    the GNU Project, or for a list of the current tasks that still need to
    be done, write to gnu@prep.ai.mit.edu.

    The IEEE

    Need IEEE…

    The League for Programming Freedom

    The League for Programming Freedom is a grass-roots organization of
    professors, students, businessmen, programmers and users dedicated to
    "bringing back" the freedom to write programs, which they contend
    has been lost over the past number years. The League is not opposed
    to the legal system that Congress intended–copyright on individual
    programs. Their aim is to reverse the recent changes made by judges in
    response to special interests, often explicitly rejecting the public
    interest principles of the Constitution.

    The League works to abolish the new monopolies by publishing articles,
    talking with public officials, boycotting egregious offenders, and in
    the future may intervene in court cases. On May 24, 1989, the League
    picketed Lotus headquarters because of their lawsuits, and then
    again on August 2, 1990. These marches stimulated widespread media
    coverage for the issue. They welcome suggestions for other
    activities, as well as help in carrying them out.

    For information on the League and how to join, write to

    League for Programming Freedom
    1 Kendall Square #143
    P.O. Box 9171
    Cambridge, MA 02139
    league@prep.ai.mit.edu

    Networking Initiatives

    Research and development are two buzz words often heard when
    discussing the networking field—everything needs to go faster, over
    longer distances, for a lower cost. To "keep current," one should
    read the various trade magazines and newspapers, or frequent the
    networking-oriented newsgroups of Usenet. If possible, attend trade
    shows and symposia like Usenix, Interop, et. al.

    ISDN

    NREN

    The National Research and Education Network (NREN) is a five-year
    project approved by Congress in the Fall of 1991. It's intended to
    create a national electronic "super-highway." The NREN will be 50
    times faster than the fastest available networks (at the time of this
    writing). Proponents of the NREN claim it will be possible to
    transfer the equivalent of the entire text of the Encyclopedia
    Britannica in one second. Further information, including the
    original text of the bill presented by Senator Al Gore (D–TN), is
    available through anonymous FTP to nis.nsf.net, in the directory
    nsfnet. In addition, Vint Cerf wrote on the then-proposed NREN in
    RFC-1167, Thoughts on the National Research and Education Network.
    RFCs for information on obtaining RFCs.

    A mailing list, nren-discuss@uu.psi.com, is available for
    discussion of the NREN; write to
    nren-discuss-request@uu.psi.com to be added.

    "To talk in publick, to think in solitude,
    to read and to hear, to inquire,
    and to answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar."
    Samuel Johnson
    Chapter VIII
    The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia

    —–
    Finding Out More

    Internet Resource Guide

    The NSF Network Service Center (NNSC) compiles and makes available an
    Internet Resource Guide (IRG). The goal of the guide is to increase the
    visibility of various Internet resources that may help users do their
    work better. While not yet an exhaustive list, the guide is a useful
    compendium of many resources and can be a helpful reference for a new
    user.

    Resources listed are grouped by types into sections. Current sections
    include descriptions of online library catalogs, data archives, online
    white pages directory services, networks, network information centers,
    and computational resources, such as supercomputers. Each entry
    describes the resource, identifies who can use the resource, explains
    how to reach the local network via the Internet, and lists contacts
    for more information. The list is distributed electronically by the
    NNSC. To receive a guide, or to get on a mailing list that alerts you
    to when it is updated, send a message to
    resource-guide-request@nnsc.nsf.net.

    The current edition of the IRG is available via anonymous FTP from
    nnsc.nsf.net, in the directory /resource-guide.

    Requests for Comments

    The internal workings of the Internet are defined by a set of
    documents called RFCs (Request for Comments). The general process
    for creating an RFC is for someone wanting something formalized to
    write a document describing the issue and mailing it to Jon Postel
    (postel@isi.edu). He acts as a referee for the proposal. It is then
    commented upon by all those wishing to take part in the discussion
    (electronically, of course). It may go through multiple revisions.
    Should it be generally accepted as a good idea, it will be assigned a
    number and filed with the RFCs.

    The RFCs can be divided into five groups: required, suggested,
    directional, informational and obsolete. Required RFCs (e.g.,
    RFC-791, The Internet Protocol) must be implemented on any host
    connected to the Internet.

    Suggested RFCs are generally implemented by network hosts. Lack of
    them does not preclude access to the Internet, but may impact its
    usability. RFC-793, Transmission Control Protocol, is a must for
    those implementing TCP.

    Directional RFCs were discussed and agreed to, but their application
    has never come into wide use. This may be due to the lack of wide
    need for the specific application (RFC-937, The Post Office Protocol) or
    that, although technically superior, ran against other pervasive
    approaches (RFC-891, Hello). It is suggested that, should the facility
    be required by a particular site, an implementation be done in
    accordance with the RFC. This ensures that, should the idea be one
    whose time has come, the implementation will be in accordance with
    some standard and will be generally usable.

    Informational RFCs contain factual information about the Internet and
    its operation (RFC-990, Assigned Numbers).

    There is also a subset of RFCs called FYIs (For Your Information).
    They are written in a language much more informal than that used in
    the other, standard RFCs. Topics range from answers to common
    questions for new and experienced users to a suggested bibliography.

    Finally, as the Internet has grown and technology has changed, some
    RFCs become unnecessary. These obsolete RFCs cannot be ignored,
    however. Frequently when a change is made to some RFC that causes a
    new one to obsolete others, the new RFC only contains explanations and
    motivations for the change. Understanding the model on which the
    whole facility is based may involve reading the original and
    subsequent RFCs on the topic.

    RFCs and FYIs are available via FTP from many sources, including:

    The nic.ddn.mil archive, as /rfc/rfc-xxxx.txt, where
    xxxx is the number of the RFC.

    from ftp.uu.net, in the directory /RFC.

    They're also available through mail by writing to
    service@nic.ddn.mil, with a Subject: line of send RFC-xxxx.TXT, again
    with xxxx being the RFC number.

    "Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we
    know where we can find information upon it."
    Samuel Johnson
    Letter to Lord Chesterfield
    February, 1755
    a book of quotes said April 18, 1775 .. the book of Johnson's works
    said it's 1755; I'll go with the latter.

    ——-
    Conclusion

    This guide is far from complete—the Internet changes on a daily (if
    not hourly) basis. However, this booklet should provide enough
    information to make the incredible breadth and complexity of the
    Internet a mite less imposing. Coupled with some exploration and
    experimentation, every user has the potential to be a competent net
    citizen, using the facilities that are available to their fullest.

    You, the reader, are strongly encouraged to suggest improvements to
    any part of this booklet. If something was unclear, left you with
    doubts, or wasn't addressed, it should be fixed. If you find any
    problems, inaccuracies, spelling errors, etc., please report them to:

    Brendan Kehoe
    Department of Computer Science
    Widener University
    Chester, PA 19013

    Internet: guide-bugs@cs.widener.edu
    UUCP: …!widener!guide-bugs

    If you are interested in future updates to this guide (aside from
    normal new editions), discussion about information to be included or
    removed, etc., write to guide-request@cs.widener.edu to be placed on
    a mailing list for such things.

    @dots is actually `. . . .'
    "I've seed de first an de last @dots I seed de beginnin,
    en now I sees de endin."
    William Faulkner
    The Sound & The Fury
    April 8, 1928

    ——–

    Getting to Other Networks

    Inter-connectivity has been and always will be one of the biggest
    goals in computer networking. The ultimate desire is to make it so
    one person can contact anyone else no matter where they are. A number
    of "gateways" between networks have been set up. They include:

    AppleLink
    Quantum Services sells access to AppleLink, which is similar to
    QuantumLink for Commodore computers and PCLink for IBM PCs and
    compatibles. It also provides email access through the address
    user@applelink.apple.com.

    ATTMail
    AT&T sells a commercial email service called ATTMail. Its users
    can be reached by writing to user@attmail.com.

    BIX
    Users on BIX (the Byte Information eXchange) can be reached
    through the DAS gateway at user@cibix.das.net.

    CompuServe (CI$)
    To reach a user on the commercial service CompuServe, you must
    address the mail as xxxxx.xxx@compuserve.com, with
    xxxxx.xxx being their CompuServe user ID. Normally CompuServe
    ids are represented as being separated by a comma (like
    71999,141); since most mailers don't react well to having
    commas in addresses, it was changed to a period. For the above
    address, mail would be sent to 71999.141@compuserve.com.

    EasyNet
    Digital sells a service called EasyNet; users that subscribe to it can
    be reached with the addresses user@host.enet.dec.com or
    user%host.enet@decwrl.dec.com.

    FidoNet
    The FidoNet computer network can be reached by using a special
    addressing method. If John Smith is on the node 1:2/3.4 on
    FidoNet, his or her email address would be
    john.smith@p4.f3.n2.z1.fidonet.org
    (notice how the numbers fall in place?).

    MCI Mail
    MCI also sells email accounts (similar to ATTMail). Users can be
    reached with user@mcimail.com.

    PeaceNet
    Users on the PeaceNet network can be reached by writing to
    user@igc.org.

    The Well
    Users on the service The Well can be reached by writing to
    user@well.sf.ca.us. The Well is directly connected to the Internet.

    This table is far from complete. In addition to sites not being
    listed, some services are not (nor do they plan to be) accessible
    from the "outside" (like Prodigy); others, like GEnie, are actively
    investigating the possibility of creating a gateway into their
    system. For the latest information, consult a list called the
    Inter-Network Mail Guide. It's available from a number of FTP sites,
    including UUNET; Anonymous FTP, for more information on getting a
    copy of it using anonymous FTP.

    Retrieving Files via Email

    For those who have a connection to the Internet, but cannot FTP, there
    do exist a few alternatives to get those files you so desperately
    need. When requesting files, it's imperative that you keep in mind
    the size of your request—odds are the other people who may be using
    your link won't be too receptive to sudden bursts of really heavy
    traffic on their normally sedate connection.

    Archive Servers

    An alternative to the currently well over-used FTPmail system is
    taking advantage of the many archive servers that are presently
    being maintained. These are programs that receive email messages that
    contain commands, and act on them. For example, sending an archive
    server the command help will usually yield, in the form of a
    piece of email, information on how to use the various commands that
    the server has available.

    One such archive server is service@nic.ddn.mil. Maintained by
    the Network Information Center (NIC) in Chantilly, VA, the server is
    set up to make all of the information at the NIC available for people
    who don't have access to FTP. This also includes the WHOIS service
    (Whois). Some sample Subject: lines for queries to the
    NIC server are:

    Subject: help Describes available commands.
    Subject: rfc 822 Sends a copy of RFC-822.
    Subject: rfc index Sends an index of the available RFCs.
    Subject: netinfo domain-template.txt Sends a domain application.
    Subject: whois widener Sends WHOIS information on `widener'.

    More information on using their archive server can be obtained by
    writing to their server address service@nic.ddn.mil with a
    Subject: of help.

    There are different "brands" of archive server, each with its own
    set of commands and services. Among them there often exists a common
    set of commands and services (e.g. index, help, etc).
    Be that as it may, one should always consult the individual help for a
    specific server before assuming the syntax—100K surprises can be
    hard on a system.

    FTP-by-Mail Servers
    Some systems offer people the ability to receive files through a
    mock-FTP interface via email. Anonymous FTP for a general overview of
    how to FTP. The effects of providing such a service varies, although
    a rule of thumb is that it will probably use a substantial amount of
    the available resources on a system.

    The "original" FTP-by-Mail service, BITFTP, is available to BITNET
    users from the Princeton node PUCC. It was once accessible to
    anyone, but had to be closed out to non-BITNET users because of the
    heavy load on the system.

    In response to this closure, Paul Vixie designed and installed a
    system called FTPmail on one of Digital's gateway computers,
    decwrl.dec.com. Write to ftpmail@decwrl.dec.com with help in the
    body of the letter for instructions on its use. The software is
    undergoing constant development; once it reaches a stable state,
    other sites will be encouraged to adopt it and provide the service
    also.

    Newsgroup Creation

    Everyone has the opportunity to make a Call For Votes on the
    Usenet and attempt to create a newsgroup that he/she feels would be of
    benefit to the general readership. The rules governing newsgroup
    creation have evolved over the years into a generally accepted method.
    They only govern the "world" groups; they aren't applicable to
    regional or other alternative hierarchies.

    Discussion

    A discussion must first take place to address issues like the naming
    of the group, where in the group tree it should go (e.g.
    rec.sports.koosh vs rec.games.koosh?), and whether or not it should
    be created in the first place. The formal Request For Discussion
    (RFD) should be posted to news.announce.newgroups, along with any
    other groups or mailing lists at all related to the proposed topic.
    news.announce.newgroups is moderated. You should place it first in
    the Newsgroups: header, so that it will get mailed to the moderator
    only. The article won't be immediately posted to the other
    newsgroups listed; rather, it will give you the opportunity to have
    the moderator correct any inconsistencies or mistakes in your RFD.
    He or she will take care of posting it to the newsgroups you
    indicated. Also the Followup-To: header will be set so that the
    actual discussion takes place only in news.groups. If a user has
    difficulty posting to a moderated group, he or she may mail
    submissions intended for news.announce.newgroups to the address
    announce-newgroups@rpi.edu.

    The final name and charter of the group, and whether it will be
    moderated or unmoderated, will be determined during the discussion
    period. If it's to be moderated, the discussion will also decide who
    the moderator will be. If there's no general agreement on these
    points among those in favor of a new group at the end of 30 days,
    the discussion will be taken into mail rather than continued posting
    to news.groups; that way, the proponents of the group can iron out
    their differences and come back with a proper proposal, and make
    a new Request For Discussion.

    Voting
    After the discussion period (which is mandatory), if it's been
    determined that a new group really is desired, a name and charter are
    agreed upon, and it's been determined whether the group will be
    moderated (and by whom), a Call For Votes (CFV) should be posted
    to news.announce.newgroups, along with any other groups that
    the original Request For Discussion was posted to. The CFV should be
    posted (or mailed to the news.announce.newgroups moderator) as
    soon as possible after the discussion ends (to keep it fresh in
    everyone's mind).

    The Call for Votes should include clear instructions on how to cast a
    vote. It's important that it be clearly explained how to both vote
    for and against a group (and be of equivalent difficulty or
    ease). If it's easier for you or your administrator, two separate
    addresses can be used to mail yes and no votes to, providing that
    they're on the same machine. Regardless of the method, everyone
    must have a very specific idea of how to get his/her vote counted.

    The voting period can last between 21 and 31 days, no matter what the
    preliminary results of the vote are. A vote can't be called off
    simply because 400 "no" votes have come in and only two "yes"
    votes. The Call for Votes should include the exact date that the
    voting period will end—only those votes arriving on the vote-taker's
    machine before this date can be counted.

    To keep awareness high, the CFV can be repeated during the vote,
    provided that it gives the same clear, unbiased instructions for
    casting a vote as the original; it also has to be the same proposal as
    was first posted. The charter can't change in mid-vote. Also, votes
    that're posted don't count—only those that were mailed to the
    vote-taker can be tallied.

    Partial results should never be included; only a statement of
    the specific proposal, that a vote is in progress on it, and how to
    cast a vote. A mass acknowledgement ("Mass ACK" or "Vote ACK") is
    permitted; however, it must be presented in a way that gives no
    indication of which way a person voted. One way to avoid this is to
    create one large list of everyone who's voted, and sort it in
    alphabetical order. It should not be two sorted lists (of the yes and
    no votes, respectively).

    Every vote is autonomous. The votes for or against one group can't be
    transferred to another, similar proposal. A vote can only count for
    the exact proposal that it was a response to. In particular, a vote
    for or against a newsgroup under one name can't be counted as a vote
    for or against another group with a different name or charter, a
    different moderated/unmoderated status, or, if it's moderated, a
    different moderator or set of moderators. Whew!

    Finally, the vote has to be explicit; they should be of the form I
    vote for the group foo.bar as proposed or I vote against the group
    foo.bar as proposed. The wording doesn't have to be exact, your
    intention just has to be clear.

    The Result of a Vote

    At the end of the voting period, the vote-taker has to post (to
    news.announce.newgroups) the tally and email addresses of the votes
    received. Again, it can also be posted to any of the groups listed in
    the original CFV. The tally should make clear which way a person
    voted, so the results can be verified if it proves necessary to do so.

    After the vote result is posted to news.announce.newgroups,
    there is a mandatory five-day waiting period. This affords everyone
    the opportunity to correct any errors or inconsistencies in the voter
    list or the voting procedure.

    Creation of the Group

    If, after the waiting period, there are no serious objections that
    might invalidate the vote, the vote is put to the "water test." If
    there were 100 more valid YES/create votes than NO/don't create
    votes, and at least two-thirds of the total number of votes are in
    favor of creation, then a newgroup control message can be sent out
    (often by the moderator of news.announce.newgroups). If the 100-vote
    margin or the two-thirds percentage isn't met, the group has failed
    and can't be created.

    If the proposal failed, all is not lost—after a six-month waiting
    period (a "cooling down"), a new Request For Discussion can be posted
    to news.groups, and the whole process can start over again. If after
    a couple of tries it becomes obvious that the group is not
    wanted or needed, the vote-taker should humbly step back and accept
    the opinion of the majority. (As life goes, so goes Usenet.)

    ——–

    Glossary

    This glossary is only a tiny subset of all of the various terms and
    other things that people regularly use on The Net. For a more
    complete (and very entertaining) reference, it's suggested you get a
    copy of The New Hacker's Dictionary, which is based on a VERY large
    text file called the Jargon File. Edited by Eric Raymond
    (eric@snark.thyrsus.com), it is available from the MIT Press,
    Cambridge, Massachusetts, 02142; its ISBN number is 0-262-68069-6.
    Also see RFC-1208, A Glossary of Networking Terms.

    🙂
    This odd symbol is one of the ways a person can portray "mood" in
    the very flat medium of computers—by using "smilies." This is
    `metacommunication', and there are literally hundreds of them, from
    the obvious to the obscure. This particular example expresses
    "happiness." Don't see it? Tilt your head to the left 90 degrees.
    Smilies are also used to denote sarcasm.

    Network addresses are usually of two types:

    the physical or hardware address of a network interface card; for
    ethernet this 48-bit address might be 0260.8C00.7666. The hardware
    address is used to forward packets within a physical network.
    Fortunately, network users do not have to be concerned about hardware
    addresses since they are automatically handled by the networking
    software.

    The logical or Internet address is used to facilitate moving data
    between physical networks. The 32-bit Internet address is made up of a
    network number, a subnetwork number, and a host number. Each host
    computer on the Internet, has a unique address. For example, all
    Internet addresses at Colorado State have a network number of 129.82, a
    subnet number in the range of 1-254, and a host number in the range of
    1-254. All Internet hosts have a numeric address and an English-style
    name. For example, the Internet address for UCC's CYBER 840 is
    129.82.103.96; its Internet name is csugreen.UCC.ColoState.EDU.

    address resolution
    Conversion of an Internet address to the corresponding physical address.
    On an ethernet, resolution requires broadcasting on the local area network.

    administrivia
    Administrative tasks, most often related to the maintenance of mailing
    lists, digests, news gateways, etc.

    anonymous FTP
    Also known as "anon FTP"; a service provided to make files available
    to the general Internet community—Anonymous FTP.

    ANSI
    The American National Standards Institute disseminates basic standards
    like ASCII, and acts as the United States' delegate to the ISO.
    Standards can be ordered from ANSI by writing to the ANSI Sales Department,
    1430 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, or by telephoning (212) 354-3300.

    archie
    A service which provides lookups for packages in a database of the
    offerings of countless of anonymous FTP sites. archie for a
    full description.

    archive server
    An email-based file transfer facility offered by some systems.

    ARPA (Advanced Research Projects Agency)
    Former name of DARPA, the government agency that funded ARPAnet and
    later the DARPA Internet.

    ARPAnet
    A pioneering long haul network funded by ARPA. It
    served as the basis for early networking research as well as a
    central backbone during the development of the Internet. The
    ARPAnet consisted of individual packet switching computers
    interconnected by leased lines. The ARPAnet no longer exists as a
    singular entity.

    asynchronous
    Transmission by individual bytes, not related to specific timing on the
    transmitting end.

    auto-magic
    Something which happens pseudo-automatically, and is usually too
    complex to go into any further than to say it happens "auto-magically."

    backbone
    A high-speed connection within a network that connects shorter,
    usually slower circuits. Also used in reference to a system that acts
    as a "hub" for activity (although those are becoming much less
    prevalent now than they were ten years ago).

    bandwidth
    The capacity of a medium to transmit a signal. More informally, the
    mythical "size" of The Net, and its ability to carry the files and
    messages of those that use it. Some view certain kinds of traffic
    (FTPing hundreds of graphics images, for example) as a "waste of
    bandwidth" and look down upon them.

    BITNET (Because It's Time Network)
    An NJE-based international educational network.

    bounce
    The return of a piece of mail because of an error in its delivery.

    btw
    An abbreviation for "by the way."

    CFV (Call For Votes)
    Initiates the voting period for a Usenet newsgroup. At least one
    (occasionally two or more) email address is customarily included as a
    repository for the votes. See Newsgroup Creation
    for a full description of the Usenet voting process.

    ClariNews
    The fee-based Usenet newsfeed available from ClariNet Communications.

    client
    The user of a network service; also used to describe a computer that
    relies upon another for some or all of its resources.

    Cyberspace
    A term coined by William Gibson in his fantasy novel
    Neuromancer to describe the "world" of computers, and the
    society that gathers around them.

    datagram
    The basic unit of information passed across the Internet. It contains
    a source and destination address along with data. Large messages are
    broken down into a sequence of IP datagrams.

    disassembling
    Converting a binary program into human-readable machine language code.

    DNS (Domain Name System)
    The method used to convert Internet names to their corresponding
    Internet numbers.

    domain
    A part of the naming hierarchy. Syntactically, a domain name consists
    of a sequence of names or other words separated by dots.

    dotted quad
    A set of four numbers connected with periods that make up an Internet
    address; for example, 147.31.254.130.

    email
    The vernacular abbreviation for electronic mail.

    email address
    The UUCP or domain-based address that a user is referred to with. For
    example, the author's address is brendan@cs.widener.edu.

    ethernet
    A 10-million bit per second networking scheme originally developed by
    Xerox Corporation. Ethernet is widely used for LANs because it can
    network a wide variety of computers, it is not proprietary, and
    components are widely available from many commercial sources.

    FDDI (Fiber Distributed Data Interface)
    An emerging standard for network technology based on fiber optics that
    has been established by ANSI. FDDI specifies a 100-million bit per
    second data rate. The access control mechanism uses token ring
    technology.

    flame
    A piece of mail or a Usenet posting which is violently argumentative.

    FQDN (Fully Qualified Domain Name)
    The FQDN is the full site name of a system, rather than just its
    hostname. For example, the system lisa at Widener University
    has a FQDN of lisa.cs.widener.edu.

    FTP (File Transfer Protocol)
    The Internet standard high-level protocol for transferring files from
    one computer to another.

    FYI
    An abbreviation for the phrase "for your information." There is
    also a series of RFCs put out by the Network Information Center called
    FYIs; they address common questions of new users and many other useful
    things. RFCs for instructions on retrieving FYIs.

    gateway
    A special-purpose dedicated computer that attaches to two or more
    networks and routes packets from one network to the other. In
    particular, an Internet gateway routes IP datagrams among the networks
    it connects. Gateways route packets to other gateways until they can be
    delivered to the final destination directly across one physical network.

    header
    The portion of a packet, preceding the actual data, containing source
    and destination addresses and error-checking fields. Also part of a
    message or news article.

    hostname
    The name given to a machine. (See also FQDN.)

    IMHO (In My Humble Opinion)
    This usually accompanies a statement that may bring about personal
    offense or strong disagreement.

    Internet
    A concatenation of many individual TCP/IP campus, state, regional, and
    national networks (such as NSFnet, ARPAnet, and Milnet) into one
    single logical network all sharing a common addressing scheme.

    Internet number
    The dotted-quad address used to specify a certain system. The
    Internet number for the site cs.widener.edu is 147.31.254.130. A
    resolver is used to translate between hostnames and Internet
    addresses.

    interoperate
    The ability of multi-vendor computers to work together using a common
    set of protocols. With interoperability, PCs, Macs, Suns, Dec VAXen,
    CDC Cybers, etc, all work together allowing one host computer to
    communicate with and take advantage of the resources of another.

    ISO (International Organization for Standardization)
    Coordinator of the main networking standards that are put into use today.

    kernel
    The level of an operating system or networking system that contains the
    system-level commands or all of the functions hidden from the user. In
    a Unix system, the kernel is a program that contains the device drivers,
    the memory management routines, the scheduler, and system calls. This
    program is always running while the system is operating.

    LAN (Local Area Network)
    Any physical network technology that operates at high speed over short
    distances (up to a few thousand meters).

    mail gateway
    A machine that connects to two or more electronic mail systems
    (especially dissimilar mail systems on two different networks) and
    transfers mail messages among them.

    mailing list
    A possibly moderated discussion group, distributed via email from a
    central computer maintaining the list of people involved in the
    discussion.

    mail path
    A series of machine names used to direct electronic mail from one user
    to another.

    medium
    The material used to support the transmission of data. This can be
    copper wire, coaxial cable, optical fiber, or electromagnetic wave (as in
    microwave).

    multiplex
    The division of a single transmission medium into multiple logical
    channels supporting many simultaneous sessions. For example, one
    network may have simultaneous FTP, telnet, rlogin, and SMTP
    connections, all going at the same time.

    net.citizen
    An inhabitant of Cyberspace. One usually tries to be a good
    net.citizen, lest one be flamed.

    netiquette
    A pun on "etiquette"; proper behavior on The Net. Usenet Netiquette.

    network
    A group of machines connected together so they can transmit information
    to one another. There are two kinds of networks: local networks and
    remote networks.

    NFS (Network File System)
    A method developed by Sun Microsystems to allow computers to share
    files across a network in a way that makes them appear as if they're
    "local" to the system.

    NIC
    The Network Information Center.

    node
    A computer that is attached to a network; also called a host.

    NSFnet
    The national backbone network, funded by the National Science Foundation
    and operated by the Merit Corporation, used to interconnect regional
    (mid-level) networks such as WestNet to one another.

    packet
    The unit of data sent across a packet switching network. The term is
    used loosely. While some Internet literature uses it to refer
    specifically to data sent across a physical network, other literature
    views the Internet as a packet switching network and describes IP
    datagrams as packets.

    polling
    Connecting to another system to check for things like mail or news.

    postmaster
    The person responsible for taking care of mail problems, answering
    queries about users, and other related work at a site.

    protocols
    A formal description of message formats and the rules two computers must
    follow to exchange those messages. Protocols can describe low-level
    details of machine-to-machine interfaces (e.g., the order in which bits
    and bytes are sent across a wire) or high-level exchanges between
    allocation programs (e.g., the way in which two programs transfer a file
    across the Internet).

    recursion
    The facility of a programming language to be able to call functions
    from within themselves.

    resolve
    Translate an Internet name into its equivalent IP address or other DNS
    information.

    RFD (Request For Discussion)
    Usually a two- to three-week period in which the particulars of
    newsgroup creation are battled out.

    route
    The path that network traffic takes from its source to its destination.

    router
    A dedicated computer (or other device) that sends packets from one
    place to another, paying attention to the current state of the network.

    RTFM (Read The Fantastic Manual).
    This anacronym is often used when someone asks a simple or common
    question. The word `Fantastic' is usually replaced with one much more
    vulgar.

    SMTP (Simple Mail Transfer Protocol)
    The Internet standard protocol for transferring electronic mail messages
    from one computer to another. SMTP specifies how two mail systems
    interact and the format of control messages they exchange to transfer
    mail.

    server
    A computer that shares its resources, such as printers and files, with
    other computers on the network. An example of this is a Network File
    System (NFS) server which shares its disk space with other computers.

    signal-to-noise ratio
    When used in reference to Usenet activity, signal-to-noise
    ratio describes the relation between amount of actual information in
    a discussion, compared to their quantity. More often than not,
    there's substantial activity in a newsgroup, but a very small number
    of those articles actually contain anything useful.

    signature
    The small, usually four-line message at the bottom of a piece of email
    or a Usenet article. In Unix, it's added by creating a file
    ..signature in the user's home directory. Large signatures are
    a no-no.

    summarize
    To encapsulate a number of responses into one coherent, usable
    message. Often done on controlled mailing lists or active newsgroups,
    to help reduce bandwidth.

    synchronous
    Data communications in which transmissions are sent at a fixed rate,
    with the sending and receiving devices synchronized.

    TCP/IP (Transmission Control Protocol/Internet Protocol)
    A set of protocols, resulting from ARPA efforts, used by the Internet to
    support services such as remote login (telnet), file transfer
    (FTP) and mail (SMTP).

    telnet
    The Internet standard protocol for remote terminal connection service.
    Telnet allows a user at one site to interact with a remote timesharing
    system at another site as if the user's terminal were connected directly
    to the remote computer.

    terminal server
    A small, specialized, networked computer that connects many terminals to
    a LAN through one network connection. Any user on the network can then
    connect to various network hosts.

    TeX
    A free typesetting system by Donald Knuth.

    twisted pair
    Cable made up of a pair of insulated copper wires wrapped around each
    other to cancel the effects of electrical noise.

    UUCP (Unix to Unix Copy Program)
    A store-and-forward system, primarily for Unix systems but currently
    supported on other platforms (e.g. VMS and personal computers).

    WAN (Wide-Area Network)
    A network spanning hundreds or thousands of miles.

    workstation
    A networked personal computing device with more power than a standard
    IBM PC or Macintosh. Typically, a workstation has an operating system
    such as unix that is capable of running several tasks at the same time.
    It has several megabytes of memory and a large, high-resolution display.
    Examples are Sun workstations and Digital DECstations.

    worm
    A computer program which replicates itself. The Internet worm
    (The Internet Worm) was perhaps the most famous; it
    successfully (and accidentally) duplicated itself on systems across
    the Internet.

    wrt
    With respect to.

    "I hate definitions."
    Benjamin Disraeli
    Vivian Grey, bk i chap ii

    ——
    Bibliography

    What follows is a compendium of sources that have information that
    will be of use to anyone reading this guide. Most of them were used
    in the writing of the booklet, while others are simply noted because
    they are a must for any good net.citizen's bookshelf.

    Books

    Comer, Douglas E.
    Internetworking With TCP/IP, 2nd ed., 2v
    Prentice Hall
    Englewood Cliffs, NJ
    1991

    Davidson, John
    An Introduction to TCP/IP
    Springer-Verlag
    Berlin
    1988

    Frey, Donnalyn, and Adams, Rick
    !@%:: A Directory of Electronic Mail Addressing and Networks
    O'Reilly and Associates
    Newton, MA
    1989

    Gibson, William
    Neuromancer
    Ace
    New York, NY
    1984

    LaQuey, Tracy
    Users' Directory of Computer Networks
    Digital Press
    Bedford, MA
    1990

    Levy, Stephen
    Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution
    Anchor Press/Doubleday
    Garden City, NY
    1984

    Partridge, Craig
    Innovations in Internetworking
    ARTECH House
    Norwood, MA
    1988

    Quarterman, John S.
    The Matrix: Computer Networks and Conferencing Systems Worldwide
    Digital Press
    Bedford, MA
    1989

    Raymond, Eric (ed)
    The New Hacker's Dictionary
    MIT Press
    Cambridge, MA
    1991

    Stoll, Clifford
    The Cuckoo's Egg
    Doubleday
    New York
    1989

    Tanenbaum, Andrew S.
    Computer Networks, 2d ed
    Prentice-Hall
    Englewood Cliffs, NJ
    1988

    Todinao, Grace
    Using UUCP and USENET: A Nutshell Handbook
    O'Reilly and Associates
    Newton, MA
    1986

    The Waite Group
    Unix Communications, 2nd ed.
    Howard W. Sams & Company
    Indianapolis
    1991

    Periodicals & Papers
    magazine: Barlow, J
    Coming Into The Country
    Communications of the ACM 34:3
    2
    March 1991
    Addresses "Cyberspace"—John Barlow was a co-founder of the EFF.

    proceedings: Collyer, G., and Spencer, H
    News Need Not Be Slow
    Proceedings of the 1987 Winter USENIX Conference
    181–90
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    January 1987

    magazine: Denning, P
    The Internet Worm
    American Scientist
    126–128
    March–April 1989

    magazine: The Science of Computing: Computer Networks
    American Scientist
    127–129
    March–April 1985

    magazine: Frey, D., and Adams, R
    USENET: Death by Success?
    UNIX REVIEW
    55–60
    August 1987

    magazine: Gifford, W. S
    ISDN User-Network Interfaces
    IEEE Journal on Selected Areas in Communications
    343–348
    May 1986

    magazine: Ginsberg, K
    Getting from Here to There
    UNIX REVIEW
    45
    January 1986

    magazine: Hiltz, S. R
    The Human Element in Computerized Conferencing Systems
    Computer Networks
    421–428
    December 1978

    proceedings: Horton, M
    What is a Domain?
    Proceedings of the Summer 1984 USENIX Conference
    368–372
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    June 1984

    magazine: Jacobsen, Ole J
    Information on TCP/IP
    ConneXions—The Interoperability Report
    14–15
    July 1988

    magazine: Jennings, D., et al
    Computer Networking for Scientists
    Science
    943–950
    28 February 1986

    paper: Markoff, J
    "Author of computer `virus' is son of U.S. electronic security expert."
    New York Times
    Nov. 5, 1988
    A1

    paper: "Computer snarl: A `back door' ajar."
    New York Times
    Nov. 7, 1988
    B10

    magazine: McQuillan, J. M., and Walden, D. C
    The ARPA Network Design Decisions
    Computer Networks
    243–289
    1977

    magazine: Ornstein, S. M
    A letter concerning the Internet worm
    Communications of the ACM 32:6
    June 1989

    proceedings: Partridge, C
    Mail Routing Using Domain Names: An Informal Tour
    Proceedings of the 1986 Summer USENIX Conference
    366–76
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    June 1986

    magazine: Quarterman, J
    Etiquette and Ethics
    ConneXions—The Interoperability Report
    12–16
    March 1989

    magazine: Notable Computer Networks
    Communications of the ACM 29:10
    October 1986
    This was the predecessor to The Matrix.

    magazine: Raeder, A. W., and Andrews, K. L
    Searching Library Catalogs on the Internet: A Survey
    Database Searcher 6
    16–31
    September 1990

    proceedings: Seeley, D
    A tour of the worm
    Proceedings of the 1989 Winter USENIX Conference
    287–304
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    February 1989

    magazine: Shulman, G
    Legal Research on USENET Liability Issues
    ;login: The USENIX Association Newsletter
    11–17
    December 1984

    magazine: Smith, K
    E-Mail to Anywhere
    PC World
    220–223
    March 1988

    magazine: Stoll, C
    Stalking the Wily Hacker
    Communications of the ACM 31:5
    14
    May 1988
    This article grew into the book The Cuckoo's Egg.

    proceedings: Taylor, D
    The Postman Always Rings Twice: Electronic Mail in a Highly Distributed
    Environment
    Proceedings of the 1988 Winter USENIX Conference
    145–153
    USENIX Association, Berkeley, CA
    December 1988

    magazine: U.S.Gen'l Accounting Ofc
    Computer Security: Virus Highlights Need for Improved Internet Management
    GAO/IMTEC-89-57,
    1989
    Addresses the Internet worm.

    "And all else is literature."
    Paul Verlaine
    The Sun, New York
    While he was city editor in 1873–1890.

    —
    Bill Walther, Carleton University, Ottawa, Canada

  • Through the Looking-Glass

    Through the Looking-Glass

    Aproximadamente 31.095 palavras.

    [Illustration]

    THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS

    And What Alice Found There

    By Lewis Carroll

    The Millennium Fulcrum Edition 1.7

    DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
    (_As arranged before commencement of game._)

    WHITE RED.
    PIECES. PAWNS. PAWNS. PIECES.
    Tweedledee. Daisy. Daisy. Humpty Dumpty.
    Unicorn. Haigha. Messenger. Carpenter.
    Sheep. Oyster. Oyster. Walrus.
    W. Queen. “Lily.” Tiger-lily. R. Queen.
    W. King. Fawn. Rose. R. King.
    Aged man. Oyster. Oyster. Crow.
    W. Knight. Hatta. Frog. R. Knight.
    Tweedledum. Daisy. Daisy. Lion.

    _RED._

    [Illustration: chessboard]

    _WHITE._

    White Pawn (Alice) to play, and win in eleven moves.

    1. Alice meets R. Q.
    1. R. Q. to K. R.’s 4th
    2. Alice through Q.’s 3d (_by railway_) to 4th (_Tweedledum and Tweedledee_)
    2. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 4th (_after shawl_)
    3. Alice meets W. Q. (_with shawl_)
    3. W. Q. to Q.B.’s 5th (_becomes sheep_)
    4. Alice to Q.’s 5th (_shop, river, shop_)
    4. W. Q. to K. B.’s 8th (_leaves egg on shelf_)
    5. Alice to Q.’s 6th (_Humpty Dumpty_)
    5. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 8th (_flying from R. Kt._)
    6. Alice to Q.’s 7th (_forest_)
    6. R. Kt. to K.’s 2nd (ch.)
    7. W.Kt. takes R.Kt.
    7. W. Kt. to K. B’s 5th
    8. Alice to Q.’s 8th (_coronation_)
    8. R. Q. to K.’s sq. (_examination_)
    9. Alice becomes Queen
    9. Queens castle
    10. Alice castles (_feast_)
    10. W.Q. to Q.R.’s 6th (_soup_)
    11. Alice takes R.Q. & wins

    Child of the pure unclouded brow
    And dreaming eyes of wonder!
    Though time be fleet, and I and thou
    Are half a life asunder,
    Thy loving smile will surely hail
    The love-gift of a fairy-tale.

    I have not seen thy sunny face,
    Nor heard thy silver laughter;
    No thought of me shall find a place
    In thy young life’s hereafter—
    Enough that now thou wilt not fail
    To listen to my fairy-tale.

    A tale begun in other days,
    When summer suns were glowing—
    A simple chime, that served to time
    The rhythm of our rowing—
    Whose echoes live in memory yet,
    Though envious years would say ‘forget.’

    Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread,
    With bitter tidings laden,
    Shall summon to unwelcome bed
    A melancholy maiden!
    We are but older children, dear,
    Who fret to find our bedtime near.

    Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
    The storm-wind’s moody madness—
    Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,
    And childhood’s nest of gladness.
    The magic words shall hold thee fast:
    Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.

    And though the shadow of a sigh
    May tremble through the story,
    For ‘happy summer days’ gone by,
    And vanish’d summer glory—
    It shall not touch with breath of bale
    The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

    Contents

    CHAPTER I. Looking-Glass house
    CHAPTER II. The Garden of Live Flowers
    CHAPTER III. Looking-Glass Insects
    CHAPTER IV. Tweedledum And Tweedledee
    CHAPTER V. Wool and Water
    CHAPTER VI. Humpty Dumpty
    CHAPTER VII. The Lion and the Unicorn
    CHAPTER VIII. “It’s my own Invention”
    CHAPTER IX. Queen Alice
    CHAPTER X. Shaking
    CHAPTER XI. Waking
    CHAPTER XII. Which Dreamed it?

    CHAPTER I.
    Looking-Glass house

    One thing was certain, that the _white_ kitten had had nothing to do
    with it:—it was the black kitten’s fault entirely. For the white kitten
    had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of
    an hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it
    _couldn’t_ have had any hand in the mischief.

    The way Dinah washed her children’s faces was this: first she held the
    poor thing down by its ear with one paw, and then with the other paw
    she rubbed its face all over, the wrong way, beginning at the nose: and
    just now, as I said, she was hard at work on the white kitten, which
    was lying quite still and trying to purr—no doubt feeling that it was
    all meant for its good.

    But the black kitten had been finished with earlier in the afternoon,
    and so, while Alice was sitting curled up in a corner of the great
    arm-chair, half talking to herself and half asleep, the kitten had been
    having a grand game of romps with the ball of worsted Alice had been
    trying to wind up, and had been rolling it up and down till it had all
    come undone again; and there it was, spread over the hearth-rug, all
    knots and tangles, with the kitten running after its own tail in the
    middle.

    “Oh, you wicked little thing!” cried Alice, catching up the kitten, and
    giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace.
    “Really, Dinah ought to have taught you better manners! You _ought_,
    Dinah, you know you ought!” she added, looking reproachfully at the old
    cat, and speaking in as cross a voice as she could manage—and then she
    scrambled back into the arm-chair, taking the kitten and the worsted
    with her, and began winding up the ball again. But she didn’t get on
    very fast, as she was talking all the time, sometimes to the kitten,
    and sometimes to herself. Kitty sat very demurely on her knee,
    pretending to watch the progress of the winding, and now and then
    putting out one paw and gently touching the ball, as if it would be
    glad to help, if it might.

    “Do you know what to-morrow is, Kitty?” Alice began. “You’d have
    guessed if you’d been up in the window with me—only Dinah was making
    you tidy, so you couldn’t. I was watching the boys getting in sticks
    for the bonfire—and it wants plenty of sticks, Kitty! Only it got so
    cold, and it snowed so, they had to leave off. Never mind, Kitty, we’ll
    go and see the bonfire to-morrow.” Here Alice wound two or three turns
    of the worsted round the kitten’s neck, just to see how it would look:
    this led to a scramble, in which the ball rolled down upon the floor,
    and yards and yards of it got unwound again.

    “Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,” Alice went on as soon as they
    were comfortably settled again, “when I saw all the mischief you had
    been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out
    into the snow! And you’d have deserved it, you little mischievous
    darling! What have you got to say for yourself? Now don’t interrupt
    me!” she went on, holding up one finger. “I’m going to tell you all
    your faults. Number one: you squeaked twice while Dinah was washing
    your face this morning. Now you can’t deny it, Kitty: I heard you!
    What’s that you say?” (pretending that the kitten was speaking.) “Her
    paw went into your eye? Well, that’s _your_ fault, for keeping your
    eyes open—if you’d shut them tight up, it wouldn’t have happened. Now
    don’t make any more excuses, but listen! Number two: you pulled
    Snowdrop away by the tail just as I had put down the saucer of milk
    before her! What, you were thirsty, were you? How do you know she
    wasn’t thirsty too? Now for number three: you unwound every bit of the
    worsted while I wasn’t looking!

    “That’s three faults, Kitty, and you’ve not been punished for any of
    them yet. You know I’m saving up all your punishments for Wednesday
    week—Suppose they had saved up all _my_ punishments!” she went on,
    talking more to herself than the kitten. “What _would_ they do at the
    end of a year? I should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day
    came. Or—let me see—suppose each punishment was to be going without a
    dinner: then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without
    fifty dinners at once! Well, I shouldn’t mind _that_ much! I’d far
    rather go without them than eat them!

    “Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and
    soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over
    outside. I wonder if the snow _loves_ the trees and fields, that it
    kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with
    a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the
    summer comes again.’ And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they
    dress themselves all in green, and dance about—whenever the wind
    blows—oh, that’s very pretty!” cried Alice, dropping the ball of
    worsted to clap her hands. “And I do so _wish_ it was true! I’m sure
    the woods look sleepy in the autumn, when the leaves are getting brown.

    “Kitty, can you play chess? Now, don’t smile, my dear, I’m asking it
    seriously. Because, when we were playing just now, you watched just as
    if you understood it: and when I said ‘Check!’ you purred! Well, it
    _was_ a nice check, Kitty, and really I might have won, if it hadn’t
    been for that nasty Knight, that came wiggling down among my pieces.
    Kitty, dear, let’s pretend—” And here I wish I could tell you half the
    things Alice used to say, beginning with her favourite phrase “Let’s
    pretend.” She had had quite a long argument with her sister only the
    day before—all because Alice had begun with “Let’s pretend we’re kings
    and queens;” and her sister, who liked being very exact, had argued
    that they couldn’t, because there were only two of them, and Alice had
    been reduced at last to say, “Well, _you_ can be one of them then, and
    _I’ll_ be all the rest.” And once she had really frightened her old
    nurse by shouting suddenly in her ear, “Nurse! Do let’s pretend that
    I’m a hungry hyaena, and you’re a bone.”

    But this is taking us away from Alice’s speech to the kitten. “Let’s
    pretend that you’re the Red Queen, Kitty! Do you know, I think if you
    sat up and folded your arms, you’d look exactly like her. Now do try,
    there’s a dear!” And Alice got the Red Queen off the table, and set it
    up before the kitten as a model for it to imitate: however, the thing
    didn’t succeed, principally, Alice said, because the kitten wouldn’t
    fold its arms properly. So, to punish it, she held it up to the
    Looking-glass, that it might see how sulky it was—“and if you’re not
    good directly,” she added, “I’ll put you through into Looking-glass
    House. How would you like _that_?”

    “Now, if you’ll only attend, Kitty, and not talk so much, I’ll tell you
    all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there’s the room you can
    see through the glass—that’s just the same as our drawing room, only
    the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a
    chair—all but the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I do so wish I could
    see _that_ bit! I want so much to know whether they’ve a fire in the
    winter: you never _can_ tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and
    then smoke comes up in that room too—but that may be only pretence,
    just to make it look as if they had a fire. Well then, the books are
    something like our books, only the words go the wrong way; I know that,
    because I’ve held up one of our books to the glass, and then they hold
    up one in the other room.

    “How would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I wonder if
    they’d give you milk in there? Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn’t good to
    drink—But oh, Kitty! now we come to the passage. You can just see a
    little _peep_ of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave the
    door of our drawing-room wide open: and it’s very like our passage as
    far as you can see, only you know it may be quite different on beyond.
    Oh, Kitty! how nice it would be if we could only get through into
    Looking-glass House! I’m sure it’s got, oh! such beautiful things in
    it! Let’s pretend there’s a way of getting through into it, somehow,
    Kitty. Let’s pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we
    can get through. Why, it’s turning into a sort of mist now, I declare!
    It’ll be easy enough to get through—” She was up on the chimney-piece
    while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And
    certainly the glass _was_ beginning to melt away, just like a bright
    silvery mist.

    In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly
    down into the Looking-glass room. The very first thing she did was to
    look whether there was a fire in the fireplace, and she was quite
    pleased to find that there was a real one, blazing away as brightly as
    the one she had left behind. “So I shall be as warm here as I was in
    the old room,” thought Alice: “warmer, in fact, because there’ll be no
    one here to scold me away from the fire. Oh, what fun it’ll be, when
    they see me through the glass in here, and can’t get at me!”

    Then she began looking about, and noticed that what could be seen from
    the old room was quite common and uninteresting, but that all the rest
    was as different as possible. For instance, the pictures on the wall
    next the fire seemed to be all alive, and the very clock on the
    chimney-piece (you know you can only see the back of it in the
    Looking-glass) had got the face of a little old man, and grinned at
    her.

    “They don’t keep this room so tidy as the other,” Alice thought to
    herself, as she noticed several of the chessmen down in the hearth
    among the cinders: but in another moment, with a little “Oh!” of
    surprise, she was down on her hands and knees watching them. The
    chessmen were walking about, two and two!

    “Here are the Red King and the Red Queen,” Alice said (in a whisper,
    for fear of frightening them), “and there are the White King and the
    White Queen sitting on the edge of the shovel—and here are two castles
    walking arm in arm—I don’t think they can hear me,” she went on, as she
    put her head closer down, “and I’m nearly sure they can’t see me. I
    feel somehow as if I were invisible—”

    Here something began squeaking on the table behind Alice, and made her
    turn her head just in time to see one of the White Pawns roll over and
    begin kicking: she watched it with great curiosity to see what would
    happen next.

    “It is the voice of my child!” the White Queen cried out as she rushed
    past the King, so violently that she knocked him over among the
    cinders. “My precious Lily! My imperial kitten!” and she began
    scrambling wildly up the side of the fender.

    “Imperial fiddlestick!” said the King, rubbing his nose, which had been
    hurt by the fall. He had a right to be a _little_ annoyed with the
    Queen, for he was covered with ashes from head to foot.

    Alice was very anxious to be of use, and, as the poor little Lily was
    nearly screaming herself into a fit, she hastily picked up the Queen
    and set her on the table by the side of her noisy little daughter.

    The Queen gasped, and sat down: the rapid journey through the air had
    quite taken away her breath and for a minute or two she could do
    nothing but hug the little Lily in silence. As soon as she had
    recovered her breath a little, she called out to the White King, who
    was sitting sulkily among the ashes, “Mind the volcano!”

    “What volcano?” said the King, looking up anxiously into the fire, as
    if he thought that was the most likely place to find one.

    “Blew—me—up,” panted the Queen, who was still a little out of breath.
    “Mind you come up—the regular way—don’t get blown up!”

    Alice watched the White King as he slowly struggled up from bar to bar,
    till at last she said, “Why, you’ll be hours and hours getting to the
    table, at that rate. I’d far better help you, hadn’t I?” But the King
    took no notice of the question: it was quite clear that he could
    neither hear her nor see her.

    So Alice picked him up very gently, and lifted him across more slowly
    than she had lifted the Queen, that she mightn’t take his breath away:
    but, before she put him on the table, she thought she might as well
    dust him a little, he was so covered with ashes.

    She said afterwards that she had never seen in all her life such a face
    as the King made, when he found himself held in the air by an invisible
    hand, and being dusted: he was far too much astonished to cry out, but
    his eyes and his mouth went on getting larger and larger, and rounder
    and rounder, till her hand shook so with laughing that she nearly let
    him drop upon the floor.

    “Oh! _please_ don’t make such faces, my dear!” she cried out, quite
    forgetting that the King couldn’t hear her. “You make me laugh so that
    I can hardly hold you! And don’t keep your mouth so wide open! All the
    ashes will get into it—there, now I think you’re tidy enough!” she
    added, as she smoothed his hair, and set him upon the table near the
    Queen.

    The King immediately fell flat on his back, and lay perfectly still:
    and Alice was a little alarmed at what she had done, and went round the
    room to see if she could find any water to throw over him. However, she
    could find nothing but a bottle of ink, and when she got back with it
    she found he had recovered, and he and the Queen were talking together
    in a frightened whisper—so low, that Alice could hardly hear what they
    said.

    The King was saying, “I assure you, my dear, I turned cold to the very
    ends of my whiskers!”

    To which the Queen replied, “You haven’t got any whiskers.”

    “The horror of that moment,” the King went on, “I shall never, _never_
    forget!”

    “You will, though,” the Queen said, “if you don’t make a memorandum of
    it.”

    Alice looked on with great interest as the King took an enormous
    memorandum-book out of his pocket, and began writing. A sudden thought
    struck her, and she took hold of the end of the pencil, which came some
    way over his shoulder, and began writing for him.

    The poor King looked puzzled and unhappy, and struggled with the pencil
    for some time without saying anything; but Alice was too strong for
    him, and at last he panted out, “My dear! I really _must_ get a thinner
    pencil. I can’t manage this one a bit; it writes all manner of things
    that I don’t intend—”

    “What manner of things?” said the Queen, looking over the book (in
    which Alice had put “_The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He
    balances very badly_”) “That’s not a memorandum of _your_ feelings!”

    There was a book lying near Alice on the table, and while she sat
    watching the White King (for she was still a little anxious about him,
    and had the ink all ready to throw over him, in case he fainted again),
    she turned over the leaves, to find some part that she could read,
    “—for it’s all in some language I don’t know,” she said to herself.

    It was like this.

    .YKCOWREBBAJ

    sevot yhtils eht dna, gillirb sawT’
    ebaw eht ni elbmig dna eryg diD
    ,sevogorob eht erew ysmim llA
    .ebargtuo shtar emom eht dnA

    She puzzled over this for some time, but at last a bright thought
    struck her. “Why, it’s a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold
    it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again.”

    This was the poem that Alice read.

    JABBERWOCKY.

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
    The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
    Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
    The frumious Bandersnatch!”

    He took his vorpal sword in hand:
    Long time the manxome foe he sought—
    So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
    And stood awhile in thought.

    And as in uffish thought he stood,
    The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
    Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
    And burbled as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
    He left it dead, and with its head
    He went galumphing back.

    “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
    Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
    He chortled in his joy.

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “It seems very pretty,” she said when she had finished it, “but it’s
    _rather_ hard to understand!” (You see she didn’t like to confess, even
    to herself, that she couldn’t make it out at all.) “Somehow it seems to
    fill my head with ideas—only I don’t exactly know what they are!
    However, _somebody_ killed _something_: that’s clear, at any rate—”

    “But oh!” thought Alice, suddenly jumping up, “if I don’t make haste I
    shall have to go back through the Looking-glass, before I’ve seen what
    the rest of the house is like! Let’s have a look at the garden first!”
    She was out of the room in a moment, and ran down stairs—or, at least,
    it wasn’t exactly running, but a new invention of hers for getting down
    stairs quickly and easily, as Alice said to herself. She just kept the
    tips of her fingers on the hand-rail, and floated gently down without
    even touching the stairs with her feet; then she floated on through the
    hall, and would have gone straight out at the door in the same way, if
    she hadn’t caught hold of the door-post. She was getting a little giddy
    with so much floating in the air, and was rather glad to find herself
    walking again in the natural way.

    CHAPTER II.
    The Garden of Live Flowers

    “I should see the garden far better,” said Alice to herself, “if I
    could get to the top of that hill: and here’s a path that leads
    straight to it—at least, no, it doesn’t do that—” (after going a few
    yards along the path, and turning several sharp corners), “but I
    suppose it will at last. But how curiously it twists! It’s more like a
    corkscrew than a path! Well, _this_ turn goes to the hill, I
    suppose—no, it doesn’t! This goes straight back to the house! Well
    then, I’ll try it the other way.”

    And so she did: wandering up and down, and trying turn after turn, but
    always coming back to the house, do what she would. Indeed, once, when
    she turned a corner rather more quickly than usual, she ran against it
    before she could stop herself.

    “It’s no use talking about it,” Alice said, looking up at the house and
    pretending it was arguing with her. “I’m _not_ going in again yet. I
    know I should have to get through the Looking-glass again—back into the
    old room—and there’d be an end of all my adventures!”

    So, resolutely turning her back upon the house, she set out once more
    down the path, determined to keep straight on till she got to the hill.
    For a few minutes all went on well, and she was just saying, “I really
    _shall_ do it this time—” when the path gave a sudden twist and shook
    itself (as she described it afterwards), and the next moment she found
    herself actually walking in at the door.

    “Oh, it’s too bad!” she cried. “I never saw such a house for getting in
    the way! Never!”

    However, there was the hill full in sight, so there was nothing to be
    done but start again. This time she came upon a large flower-bed, with
    a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle.

    “O Tiger-lily,” said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving
    gracefully about in the wind, “I _wish_ you could talk!”

    “We _can_ talk,” said the Tiger-lily: “when there’s anybody worth
    talking to.”

    Alice was so astonished that she could not speak for a minute: it quite
    seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily only went
    on waving about, she spoke again, in a timid voice—almost in a whisper.
    “And can _all_ the flowers talk?”

    “As well as _you_ can,” said the Tiger-lily. “And a great deal louder.”

    “It isn’t manners for us to begin, you know,” said the Rose, “and I
    really was wondering when you’d speak! Said I to myself, ‘Her face has
    got _some_ sense in it, though it’s not a clever one!’ Still, you’re
    the right colour, and that goes a long way.”

    “I don’t care about the colour,” the Tiger-lily remarked. “If only her
    petals curled up a little more, she’d be all right.”

    Alice didn’t like being criticised, so she began asking questions.
    “Aren’t you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody
    to take care of you?”

    “There’s the tree in the middle,” said the Rose: “what else is it good
    for?”

    “But what could it do, if any danger came?” Alice asked.

    “It says ‘Bough-wough!’” cried a Daisy: “that’s why its branches are
    called boughs!”

    “Didn’t you know _that_?” cried another Daisy, and here they all began
    shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill
    voices. “Silence, every one of you!” cried the Tiger-lily, waving
    itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement.
    “They know I can’t get at them!” it panted, bending its quivering head
    towards Alice, “or they wouldn’t dare to do it!”

    “Never mind!” Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the
    daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, “If you don’t
    hold your tongues, I’ll pick you!”

    There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned
    white.

    “That’s right!” said the Tiger-lily. “The daisies are worst of all.
    When one speaks, they all begin together, and it’s enough to make one
    wither to hear the way they go on!”

    “How is it you can all talk so nicely?” Alice said, hoping to get it
    into a better temper by a compliment. “I’ve been in many gardens
    before, but none of the flowers could talk.”

    “Put your hand down, and feel the ground,” said the Tiger-lily. “Then
    you’ll know why.”

    Alice did so. “It’s very hard,” she said, “but I don’t see what that
    has to do with it.”

    “In most gardens,” the Tiger-lily said, “they make the beds too soft—so
    that the flowers are always asleep.”

    This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know
    it. “I never thought of that before!” she said.

    “It’s _my_ opinion that you never think _at all_,” the Rose said in a
    rather severe tone.

    “I never saw anybody that looked stupider,” a Violet said, so suddenly,
    that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn’t spoken before.

    “Hold _your_ tongue!” cried the Tiger-lily. “As if _you_ ever saw
    anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there,
    till you know no more what’s going on in the world, than if you were a
    bud!”

    “Are there any more people in the garden besides me?” Alice said, not
    choosing to notice the Rose’s last remark.

    “There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,”
    said the Rose. “I wonder how you do it—” (“You’re always wondering,”
    said the Tiger-lily), “but she’s more bushy than you are.”

    “Is she like me?” Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her
    mind, “There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!”

    “Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,” the Rose said, “but
    she’s redder—and her petals are shorter, I think.”

    “Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,” the Tiger-lily
    interrupted: “not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.”

    “But that’s not _your_ fault,” the Rose added kindly: “you’re beginning
    to fade, you know—and then one can’t help one’s petals getting a little
    untidy.”

    Alice didn’t like this idea at all: so, to change the subject, she
    asked “Does she ever come out here?”

    “I daresay you’ll see her soon,” said the Rose. “She’s one of the
    thorny kind.”

    “Where does she wear the thorns?” Alice asked with some curiosity.

    “Why all round her head, of course,” the Rose replied. “I was wondering
    _you_ hadn’t got some too. I thought it was the regular rule.”

    “She’s coming!” cried the Larkspur. “I hear her footstep, thump, thump,
    thump, along the gravel-walk!”

    Alice looked round eagerly, and found that it was the Red Queen. “She’s
    grown a good deal!” was her first remark. She had indeed: when Alice
    first found her in the ashes, she had been only three inches high—and
    here she was, half a head taller than Alice herself!

    “It’s the fresh air that does it,” said the Rose: “wonderfully fine air
    it is, out here.”

    “I think I’ll go and meet her,” said Alice, for, though the flowers
    were interesting enough, she felt that it would be far grander to have
    a talk with a real Queen.

    “You can’t possibly do that,” said the Rose: “_I_ should advise you to
    walk the other way.”

    This sounded nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set off at
    once towards the Red Queen. To her surprise, she lost sight of her in a
    moment, and found herself walking in at the front-door again.

    A little provoked, she drew back, and after looking everywhere for the
    queen (whom she spied out at last, a long way off), she thought she
    would try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction.

    It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking a minute before she
    found herself face to face with the Red Queen, and full in sight of the
    hill she had been so long aiming at.

    “Where do you come from?” said the Red Queen. “And where are you going?
    Look up, speak nicely, and don’t twiddle your fingers all the time.”

    Alice attended to all these directions, and explained, as well as she
    could, that she had lost her way.

    “I don’t know what you mean by _your_ way,” said the Queen: “all the
    ways about here belong to _me_—but why did you come out here at all?”
    she added in a kinder tone. “Curtsey while you’re thinking what to say,
    it saves time.”

    Alice wondered a little at this, but she was too much in awe of the
    Queen to disbelieve it. “I’ll try it when I go home,” she thought to
    herself, “the next time I’m a little late for dinner.”

    “It’s time for you to answer now,” the Queen said, looking at her
    watch: “open your mouth a _little_ wider when you speak, and always say
    ‘your Majesty.’”

    “I only wanted to see what the garden was like, your Majesty—”

    “That’s right,” said the Queen, patting her on the head, which Alice
    didn’t like at all, “though, when you say ‘garden,’—_I’ve_ seen
    gardens, compared with which this would be a wilderness.”

    Alice didn’t dare to argue the point, but went on: “—and I thought I’d
    try and find my way to the top of that hill—”

    “When you say ‘hill,’” the Queen interrupted, “_I_ could show you
    hills, in comparison with which you’d call that a valley.”

    “No, I shouldn’t,” said Alice, surprised into contradicting her at
    last: “a hill _can’t_ be a valley, you know. That would be nonsense—”

    The Red Queen shook her head, “You may call it ‘nonsense’ if you like,”
    she said, “but _I’ve_ heard nonsense, compared with which that would be
    as sensible as a dictionary!”

    Alice curtseyed again, as she was afraid from the Queen’s tone that she
    was a _little_ offended: and they walked on in silence till they got to
    the top of the little hill.

    For some minutes Alice stood without speaking, looking out in all
    directions over the country—and a most curious country it was. There
    were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it from
    side to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a
    number of little green hedges, that reached from brook to brook.

    “I declare it’s marked out just like a large chessboard!” Alice said at
    last. “There ought to be some men moving about somewhere—and so there
    are!” She added in a tone of delight, and her heart began to beat quick
    with excitement as she went on. “It’s a great huge game of chess that’s
    being played—all over the world—if this _is_ the world at all, you
    know. Oh, what fun it is! How I _wish_ I was one of them! I wouldn’t
    mind being a Pawn, if only I might join—though of course I should
    _like_ to be a Queen, best.”

    She glanced rather shyly at the real Queen as she said this, but her
    companion only smiled pleasantly, and said, “That’s easily managed. You
    can be the White Queen’s Pawn, if you like, as Lily’s too young to
    play; and you’re in the Second Square to begin with: when you get to
    the Eighth Square you’ll be a Queen—” Just at this moment, somehow or
    other, they began to run.

    Alice never could quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how
    it was that they began: all she remembers is, that they were running
    hand in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all she could do
    to keep up with her: and still the Queen kept crying “Faster! Faster!”
    but Alice felt she _could not_ go faster, though she had not breath
    left to say so.

    The most curious part of the thing was, that the trees and the other
    things round them never changed their places at all: however fast they
    went, they never seemed to pass anything. “I wonder if all the things
    move along with us?” thought poor puzzled Alice. And the Queen seemed
    to guess her thoughts, for she cried, “Faster! Don’t try to talk!”

    Not that Alice had any idea of doing _that_. She felt as if she would
    never be able to talk again, she was getting so much out of breath: and
    still the Queen cried “Faster! Faster!” and dragged her along. “Are we
    nearly there?” Alice managed to pant out at last.

    “Nearly there!” the Queen repeated. “Why, we passed it ten minutes ago!
    Faster!” And they ran on for a time in silence, with the wind whistling
    in Alice’s ears, and almost blowing her hair off her head, she fancied.

    “Now! Now!” cried the Queen. “Faster! Faster!” And they went so fast
    that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the
    ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as Alice was getting quite
    exhausted, they stopped, and she found herself sitting on the ground,
    breathless and giddy.

    The Queen propped her up against a tree, and said kindly, “You may rest
    a little now.”

    Alice looked round her in great surprise. “Why, I do believe we’ve been
    under this tree the whole time! Everything’s just as it was!”

    “Of course it is,” said the Queen, “what would you have it?”

    “Well, in _our_ country,” said Alice, still panting a little, “you’d
    generally get to somewhere else—if you ran very fast for a long time,
    as we’ve been doing.”

    “A slow sort of country!” said the Queen. “Now, _here_, you see, it
    takes all the running _you_ can do, to keep in the same place. If you
    want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as
    that!”

    “I’d rather not try, please!” said Alice. “I’m quite content to stay
    here—only I _am_ so hot and thirsty!”

    “I know what _you’d_ like!” the Queen said good-naturedly, taking a
    little box out of her pocket. “Have a biscuit?”

    Alice thought it would not be civil to say “No,” though it wasn’t at
    all what she wanted. So she took it, and ate it as well as she could:
    and it was _very_ dry; and she thought she had never been so nearly
    choked in all her life.

    “While you’re refreshing yourself,” said the Queen, “I’ll just take the
    measurements.” And she took a ribbon out of her pocket, marked in
    inches, and began measuring the ground, and sticking little pegs in
    here and there.

    “At the end of two yards,” she said, putting in a peg to mark the
    distance, “I shall give you your directions—have another biscuit?”

    “No, thank you,” said Alice: “one’s _quite_ enough!”

    “Thirst quenched, I hope?” said the Queen.

    Alice did not know what to say to this, but luckily the Queen did not
    wait for an answer, but went on. “At the end of _three_ yards I shall
    repeat them—for fear of your forgetting them. At the end of _four_, I
    shall say good-bye. And at the end of _five_, I shall go!”

    She had got all the pegs put in by this time, and Alice looked on with
    great interest as she returned to the tree, and then began slowly
    walking down the row.

    At the two-yard peg she faced round, and said, “A pawn goes two squares
    in its first move, you know. So you’ll go _very_ quickly through the
    Third Square—by railway, I should think—and you’ll find yourself in the
    Fourth Square in no time. Well, _that_ square belongs to Tweedledum and
    Tweedledee—the Fifth is mostly water—the Sixth belongs to Humpty
    Dumpty—But you make no remark?”

    “I—I didn’t know I had to make one—just then,” Alice faltered out.

    “You _should_ have said, ‘It’s extremely kind of you to tell me all
    this’—however, we’ll suppose it said—the Seventh Square is all
    forest—however, one of the Knights will show you the way—and in the
    Eighth Square we shall be Queens together, and it’s all feasting and
    fun!” Alice got up and curtseyed, and sat down again.

    At the next peg the Queen turned again, and this time she said, “Speak
    in French when you can’t think of the English for a thing—turn out your
    toes as you walk—and remember who you are!” She did not wait for Alice
    to curtsey this time, but walked on quickly to the next peg, where she
    turned for a moment to say “good-bye,” and then hurried on to the last.

    How it happened, Alice never knew, but exactly as she came to the last
    peg, she was gone. Whether she vanished into the air, or whether she
    ran quickly into the wood (“and she _can_ run very fast!” thought
    Alice), there was no way of guessing, but she was gone, and Alice began
    to remember that she was a Pawn, and that it would soon be time for her
    to move.

    CHAPTER III.
    Looking-Glass Insects

    Of course the first thing to do was to make a grand survey of the
    country she was going to travel through. “It’s something very like
    learning geography,” thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe in hopes of
    being able to see a little further. “Principal rivers—there _are_ none.
    Principal mountains—I’m on the only one, but I don’t think it’s got any
    name. Principal towns—why, what _are_ those creatures, making honey
    down there? They can’t be bees—nobody ever saw bees a mile off, you
    know—” and for some time she stood silent, watching one of them that
    was bustling about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them,
    “just as if it was a regular bee,” thought Alice.

    However, this was anything but a regular bee: in fact it was an
    elephant—as Alice soon found out, though the idea quite took her breath
    away at first. “And what enormous flowers they must be!” was her next
    idea. “Something like cottages with the roofs taken off, and stalks put
    to them—and what quantities of honey they must make! I think I’ll go
    down and—no, I won’t _just_ yet,” she went on, checking herself just as
    she was beginning to run down the hill, and trying to find some excuse
    for turning shy so suddenly. “It’ll never do to go down among them
    without a good long branch to brush them away—and what fun it’ll be
    when they ask me how I like my walk. I shall say—‘Oh, I like it well
    enough—’” (here came the favourite little toss of the head), “‘only it
    was so dusty and hot, and the elephants did tease so!’”

    “I think I’ll go down the other way,” she said after a pause: “and
    perhaps I may visit the elephants later on. Besides, I do so want to
    get into the Third Square!”

    So with this excuse she ran down the hill and jumped over the first of
    the six little brooks.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    “Tickets, please!” said the Guard, putting his head in at the window.
    In a moment everybody was holding out a ticket: they were about the
    same size as the people, and quite seemed to fill the carriage.

    “Now then! Show your ticket, child!” the Guard went on, looking angrily
    at Alice. And a great many voices all said together (“like the chorus
    of a song,” thought Alice), “Don’t keep him waiting, child! Why, his
    time is worth a thousand pounds a minute!”

    “I’m afraid I haven’t got one,” Alice said in a frightened tone: “there
    wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.” And again the chorus of
    voices went on. “There wasn’t room for one where she came from. The
    land there is worth a thousand pounds an inch!”

    “Don’t make excuses,” said the Guard: “you should have bought one from
    the engine-driver.” And once more the chorus of voices went on with
    “The man that drives the engine. Why, the smoke alone is worth a
    thousand pounds a puff!”

    Alice thought to herself, “Then there’s no use in speaking.” The voices
    didn’t join in this time, as she hadn’t spoken, but to her great
    surprise, they all _thought_ in chorus (I hope you understand what
    _thinking in chorus_ means—for I must confess that _I_ don’t), “Better
    say nothing at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word!”

    “I shall dream about a thousand pounds tonight, I know I shall!”
    thought Alice.

    All this time the Guard was looking at her, first through a telescope,
    then through a microscope, and then through an opera-glass. At last he
    said, “You’re travelling the wrong way,” and shut up the window and
    went away.

    “So young a child,” said the gentleman sitting opposite to her (he was
    dressed in white paper), “ought to know which way she’s going, even if
    she doesn’t know her own name!”

    A Goat, that was sitting next to the gentleman in white, shut his eyes
    and said in a loud voice, “She ought to know her way to the
    ticket-office, even if she doesn’t know her alphabet!”

    There was a Beetle sitting next to the Goat (it was a very queer
    carriage-full of passengers altogether), and, as the rule seemed to be
    that they should all speak in turn, _he_ went on with “She’ll have to
    go back from here as luggage!”

    Alice couldn’t see who was sitting beyond the Beetle, but a hoarse
    voice spoke next. “Change engines—” it said, and was obliged to leave
    off.

    “It sounds like a horse,” Alice thought to herself. And an extremely
    small voice, close to her ear, said, “You might make a joke on
    that—something about ‘horse’ and ‘hoarse,’ you know.”

    Then a very gentle voice in the distance said, “She must be labelled
    ‘Lass, with care,’ you know—”

    And after that other voices went on (“What a number of people there are
    in the carriage!” thought Alice), saying, “She must go by post, as
    she’s got a head on her—” “She must be sent as a message by the
    telegraph—” “She must draw the train herself the rest of the way—” and
    so on.

    But the gentleman dressed in white paper leaned forwards and whispered
    in her ear, “Never mind what they all say, my dear, but take a
    return-ticket every time the train stops.”

    “Indeed I shan’t!” Alice said rather impatiently. “I don’t belong to
    this railway journey at all—I was in a wood just now—and I wish I could
    get back there.”

    “You might make a joke on _that_,” said the little voice close to her
    ear: “something about ‘you _would_ if you could,’ you know.”

    “Don’t tease so,” said Alice, looking about in vain to see where the
    voice came from; “if you’re so anxious to have a joke made, why don’t
    you make one yourself?”

    The little voice sighed deeply: it was _very_ unhappy, evidently, and
    Alice would have said something pitying to comfort it, “If it would
    only sigh like other people!” she thought. But this was such a
    wonderfully small sigh, that she wouldn’t have heard it at all, if it
    hadn’t come _quite_ close to her ear. The consequence of this was that
    it tickled her ear very much, and quite took off her thoughts from the
    unhappiness of the poor little creature.

    “I know you are a friend,” the little voice went on; “a dear friend,
    and an old friend. And you won’t hurt me, though I _am_ an insect.”

    “What kind of insect?” Alice inquired a little anxiously. What she
    really wanted to know was, whether it could sting or not, but she
    thought this wouldn’t be quite a civil question to ask.

    “What, then you don’t—” the little voice began, when it was drowned by
    a shrill scream from the engine, and everybody jumped up in alarm,
    Alice among the rest.

    The Horse, who had put his head out of the window, quietly drew it in
    and said, “It’s only a brook we have to jump over.” Everybody seemed
    satisfied with this, though Alice felt a little nervous at the idea of
    trains jumping at all. “However, it’ll take us into the Fourth Square,
    that’s some comfort!” she said to herself. In another moment she felt
    the carriage rise straight up into the air, and in her fright she
    caught at the thing nearest to her hand, which happened to be the
    Goat’s beard.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    But the beard seemed to melt away as she touched it, and she found
    herself sitting quietly under a tree—while the Gnat (for that was the
    insect she had been talking to) was balancing itself on a twig just
    over her head, and fanning her with its wings.

    It certainly was a _very_ large Gnat: “about the size of a chicken,”
    Alice thought. Still, she couldn’t feel nervous with it, after they had
    been talking together so long.

    “—then you don’t like all insects?” the Gnat went on, as quietly as if
    nothing had happened.

    “I like them when they can talk,” Alice said. “None of them ever talk,
    where _I_ come from.”

    “What sort of insects do you rejoice in, where _you_ come from?” the
    Gnat inquired.

    “I don’t _rejoice_ in insects at all,” Alice explained, “because I’m
    rather afraid of them—at least the large kinds. But I can tell you the
    names of some of them.”

    “Of course they answer to their names?” the Gnat remarked carelessly.

    “I never knew them to do it.”

    “What’s the use of their having names,” the Gnat said, “if they won’t
    answer to them?”

    “No use to _them_,” said Alice; “but it’s useful to the people who name
    them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?”

    “I can’t say,” the Gnat replied. “Further on, in the wood down there,
    they’ve got no names—however, go on with your list of insects: you’re
    wasting time.”

    “Well, there’s the Horse-fly,” Alice began, counting off the names on
    her fingers.

    “All right,” said the Gnat: “half way up that bush, you’ll see a
    Rocking-horse-fly, if you look. It’s made entirely of wood, and gets
    about by swinging itself from branch to branch.”

    “What does it live on?” Alice asked, with great curiosity.

    “Sap and sawdust,” said the Gnat. “Go on with the list.”

    Alice looked up at the Rocking-horse-fly with great interest, and made
    up her mind that it must have been just repainted, it looked so bright
    and sticky; and then she went on.

    “And there’s the Dragon-fly.”

    “Look on the branch above your head,” said the Gnat, “and there you’ll
    find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of
    holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.”

    “And what does it live on?”

    “Frumenty and mince pie,” the Gnat replied; “and it makes its nest in a
    Christmas box.”

    “And then there’s the Butterfly,” Alice went on, after she had taken a
    good look at the insect with its head on fire, and had thought to
    herself, “I wonder if that’s the reason insects are so fond of flying
    into candles—because they want to turn into Snap-dragon-flies!”

    “Crawling at your feet,” said the Gnat (Alice drew her feet back in
    some alarm), “you may observe a Bread-and-Butterfly. Its wings are thin
    slices of Bread-and-butter, its body is a crust, and its head is a lump
    of sugar.”

    “And what does _it_ live on?”

    “Weak tea with cream in it.”

    A new difficulty came into Alice’s head. “Supposing it couldn’t find
    any?” she suggested.

    “Then it would die, of course.”

    “But that must happen very often,” Alice remarked thoughtfully.

    “It always happens,” said the Gnat.

    After this, Alice was silent for a minute or two, pondering. The Gnat
    amused itself meanwhile by humming round and round her head: at last it
    settled again and remarked, “I suppose you don’t want to lose your
    name?”

    “No, indeed,” Alice said, a little anxiously.

    “And yet I don’t know,” the Gnat went on in a careless tone: “only
    think how convenient it would be if you could manage to go home without
    it! For instance, if the governess wanted to call you to your lessons,
    she would call out ‘come here—,’ and there she would have to leave off,
    because there wouldn’t be any name for her to call, and of course you
    wouldn’t have to go, you know.”

    “That would never do, I’m sure,” said Alice: “the governess would never
    think of excusing me lessons for that. If she couldn’t remember my
    name, she’d call me ‘Miss!’ as the servants do.”

    “Well, if she said ‘Miss,’ and didn’t say anything more,” the Gnat
    remarked, “of course you’d miss your lessons. That’s a joke. I wish
    _you_ had made it.”

    “Why do you wish _I_ had made it?” Alice asked. “It’s a very bad one.”

    But the Gnat only sighed deeply, while two large tears came rolling
    down its cheeks.

    “You shouldn’t make jokes,” Alice said, “if it makes you so unhappy.”

    Then came another of those melancholy little sighs, and this time the
    poor Gnat really seemed to have sighed itself away, for, when Alice
    looked up, there was nothing whatever to be seen on the twig, and, as
    she was getting quite chilly with sitting still so long, she got up and
    walked on.

    She very soon came to an open field, with a wood on the other side of
    it: it looked much darker than the last wood, and Alice felt a _little_
    timid about going into it. However, on second thoughts, she made up her
    mind to go on: “for I certainly won’t go _back_,” she thought to
    herself, and this was the only way to the Eighth Square.

    “This must be the wood,” she said thoughtfully to herself, “where
    things have no names. I wonder what’ll become of _my_ name when I go
    in? I shouldn’t like to lose it at all—because they’d have to give me
    another, and it would be almost certain to be an ugly one. But then the
    fun would be trying to find the creature that had got my old name!
    That’s just like the advertisements, you know, when people lose
    dogs—‘_answers to the name of “Dash:” had on a brass collar_’—just
    fancy calling everything you met ‘Alice,’ till one of them answered!
    Only they wouldn’t answer at all, if they were wise.”

    She was rambling on in this way when she reached the wood: it looked
    very cool and shady. “Well, at any rate it’s a great comfort,” she said
    as she stepped under the trees, “after being so hot, to get into
    the—into _what_?” she went on, rather surprised at not being able to
    think of the word. “I mean to get under the—under the—under _this_, you
    know!” putting her hand on the trunk of the tree. “What _does_ it call
    itself, I wonder? I do believe it’s got no name—why, to be sure it
    hasn’t!”

    She stood silent for a minute, thinking: then she suddenly began again.
    “Then it really _has_ happened, after all! And now, who am I? I _will_
    remember, if I can! I’m determined to do it!” But being determined
    didn’t help much, and all she could say, after a great deal of
    puzzling, was, “L, I _know_ it begins with L!”

    Just then a Fawn came wandering by: it looked at Alice with its large
    gentle eyes, but didn’t seem at all frightened. “Here then! Here then!”
    Alice said, as she held out her hand and tried to stroke it; but it
    only started back a little, and then stood looking at her again.

    “What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet
    voice it had!

    “I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly,
    “Nothing, just now.”

    “Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”

    Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what
    _you_ call yourself?” she said timidly. “I think that might help a
    little.”

    “I’ll tell you, if you’ll move a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I
    can’t remember here.”

    So they walked on together though the wood, Alice with her arms clasped
    lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into
    another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air,
    and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in
    a voice of delight, “and, dear me! you’re a human child!” A sudden look
    of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it
    had darted away at full speed.

    Alice stood looking after it, almost ready to cry with vexation at
    having lost her dear little fellow-traveller so suddenly. “However, I
    know my name now.” she said, “that’s _some_ comfort. Alice—Alice—I
    won’t forget it again. And now, which of these finger-posts ought I to
    follow, I wonder?”

    It was not a very difficult question to answer, as there was only one
    road through the wood, and the two finger-posts both pointed along it.
    “I’ll settle it,” Alice said to herself, “when the road divides and
    they point different ways.”

    But this did not seem likely to happen. She went on and on, a long way,
    but wherever the road divided there were sure to be two finger-posts
    pointing the same way, one marked “TO TWEEDLEDUM’S HOUSE” and the other
    “TO THE HOUSE OF TWEEDLEDEE.”

    “I do believe,” said Alice at last, “that they live in the same house!
    I wonder I never thought of that before—But I can’t stay there long.
    I’ll just call and say ‘how d’you do?’ and ask them the way out of the
    wood. If I could only get to the Eighth Square before it gets dark!” So
    she wandered on, talking to herself as she went, till, on turning a
    sharp corner, she came upon two fat little men, so suddenly that she
    could not help starting back, but in another moment she recovered
    herself, feeling sure that they must be

    CHAPTER IV.
    Tweedledum And Tweedledee

    They were standing under a tree, each with an arm round the other’s
    neck, and Alice knew which was which in a moment, because one of them
    had “DUM” embroidered on his collar, and the other “DEE.” “I suppose
    they’ve each got ‘TWEEDLE’ round at the back of the collar,” she said
    to herself.

    They stood so still that she quite forgot they were alive, and she was
    just looking round to see if the word ‘TWEEDLE’ was written at the back
    of each collar, when she was startled by a voice coming from the one
    marked “DUM.”

    “If you think we’re wax-works,” he said, “you ought to pay, you know.
    Wax-works weren’t made to be looked at for nothing, nohow!”

    “Contrariwise,” added the one marked “DEE,” “if you think we’re alive,
    you ought to speak.”

    “I’m sure I’m very sorry,” was all Alice could say; for the words of
    the old song kept ringing through her head like the ticking of a clock,
    and she could hardly help saying them out loud:—

    “Tweedledum and Tweedledee
    Agreed to have a battle;
    For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
    Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

    Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
    As black as a tar-barrel;
    Which frightened both the heroes so,
    They quite forgot their quarrel.”

    “I know what you’re thinking about,” said Tweedledum: “but it isn’t so,
    nohow.”

    “Contrariwise,” continued Tweedledee, “if it was so, it might be; and
    if it were so, it would be; but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.”

    “I was thinking,” Alice said very politely, “which is the best way out
    of this wood: it’s getting so dark. Would you tell me, please?”

    But the little men only looked at each other and grinned.

    They looked so exactly like a couple of great schoolboys, that Alice
    couldn’t help pointing her finger at Tweedledum, and saying “First
    Boy!”

    “Nohow!” Tweedledum cried out briskly, and shut his mouth up again with
    a snap.

    “Next Boy!” said Alice, passing on to Tweedledee, though she felt quite
    certain he would only shout out “Contrariwise!” and so he did.

    “You’ve been wrong!” cried Tweedledum. “The first thing in a visit is
    to say ‘How d’ye do?’ and shake hands!” And here the two brothers gave
    each other a hug, and then they held out the two hands that were free,
    to shake hands with her.

    Alice did not like shaking hands with either of them first, for fear of
    hurting the other one’s feelings; so, as the best way out of the
    difficulty, she took hold of both hands at once: the next moment they
    were dancing round in a ring. This seemed quite natural (she remembered
    afterwards), and she was not even surprised to hear music playing: it
    seemed to come from the tree under which they were dancing, and it was
    done (as well as she could make it out) by the branches rubbing one
    across the other, like fiddles and fiddle-sticks.

    “But it certainly _was_ funny,” (Alice said afterwards, when she was
    telling her sister the history of all this,) “to find myself singing
    ‘_Here we go round the mulberry bush_.’ I don’t know when I began it,
    but somehow I felt as if I’d been singing it a long long time!”

    The other two dancers were fat, and very soon out of breath. “Four
    times round is enough for one dance,” Tweedledum panted out, and they
    left off dancing as suddenly as they had begun: the music stopped at
    the same moment.

    Then they let go of Alice’s hands, and stood looking at her for a
    minute: there was a rather awkward pause, as Alice didn’t know how to
    begin a conversation with people she had just been dancing with. “It
    would never do to say ‘How d’ye do?’ _now_,” she said to herself: “we
    seem to have got beyond that, somehow!”

    “I hope you’re not much tired?” she said at last.

    “Nohow. And thank you _very_ much for asking,” said Tweedledum.

    “So _much_ obliged!” added Tweedledee. “You like poetry?”

    “Ye-es, pretty well—_some_ poetry,” Alice said doubtfully. “Would you
    tell me which road leads out of the wood?”

    “What shall I repeat to her?” said Tweedledee, looking round at
    Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice’s question.

    “‘_The Walrus and the Carpenter_’ is the longest,” Tweedledum replied,
    giving his brother an affectionate hug.

    Tweedledee began instantly:

    “The sun was shining—”

    Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. “If it’s _very_ long,” she said,
    as politely as she could, “would you please tell me first which road—”

    Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:

    “The sun was shining on the sea,
    Shining with all his might:
    He did his very best to make
    The billows smooth and bright—
    And this was odd, because it was
    The middle of the night.

    The moon was shining sulkily,
    Because she thought the sun
    Had got no business to be there
    After the day was done—
    ‘It’s very rude of him,’ she said,
    ‘To come and spoil the fun!’

    The sea was wet as wet could be,
    The sands were dry as dry.
    You could not see a cloud, because
    No cloud was in the sky:
    No birds were flying over head—
    There were no birds to fly.

    The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Were walking close at hand;
    They wept like anything to see
    Such quantities of sand:
    ‘If this were only cleared away,’
    They said, ‘it _would_ be grand!’

    ‘If seven maids with seven mops
    Swept it for half a year,
    Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘That they could get it clear?’
    ‘I doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
    And shed a bitter tear.

    ‘O Oysters, come and walk with us!’
    The Walrus did beseech.
    ‘A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
    Along the briny beach:
    We cannot do with more than four,
    To give a hand to each.’

    The eldest Oyster looked at him.
    But never a word he said:
    The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
    And shook his heavy head—
    Meaning to say he did not choose
    To leave the oyster-bed.

    But four young oysters hurried up,
    All eager for the treat:
    Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
    Their shoes were clean and neat—
    And this was odd, because, you know,
    They hadn’t any feet.

    Four other Oysters followed them,
    And yet another four;
    And thick and fast they came at last,
    And more, and more, and more—
    All hopping through the frothy waves,
    And scrambling to the shore.

    The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Walked on a mile or so,
    And then they rested on a rock
    Conveniently low:
    And all the little Oysters stood
    And waited in a row.

    ‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘To talk of many things:
    Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
    Of cabbages—and kings—
    And why the sea is boiling hot—
    And whether pigs have wings.’

    ‘But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
    ‘Before we have our chat;
    For some of us are out of breath,
    And all of us are fat!’
    ‘No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
    They thanked him much for that.

    ‘A loaf of bread,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘Is what we chiefly need:
    Pepper and vinegar besides
    Are very good indeed—
    Now if you’re ready Oysters dear,
    We can begin to feed.’

    ‘But not on us!’ the Oysters cried,
    Turning a little blue,
    ‘After such kindness, that would be
    A dismal thing to do!’
    ‘The night is fine,’ the Walrus said
    ‘Do you admire the view?

    ‘It was so kind of you to come!
    And you are very nice!’
    The Carpenter said nothing but
    ‘Cut us another slice:
    I wish you were not quite so deaf—
    I’ve had to ask you twice!’

    ‘It seems a shame,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘To play them such a trick,
    After we’ve brought them out so far,
    And made them trot so quick!’
    The Carpenter said nothing but
    ‘The butter’s spread too thick!’

    ‘I weep for you,’ the Walrus said.
    ‘I deeply sympathize.’
    With sobs and tears he sorted out
    Those of the largest size.
    Holding his pocket handkerchief
    Before his streaming eyes.

    ‘O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter.
    ‘You’ve had a pleasant run!
    Shall we be trotting home again?’
    But answer came there none—
    And that was scarcely odd, because
    They’d eaten every one.”

    “I like the Walrus best,” said Alice: “because you see he was a
    _little_ sorry for the poor oysters.”

    “He ate more than the Carpenter, though,” said Tweedledee. “You see he
    held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn’t count
    how many he took: contrariwise.”

    “That was mean!” Alice said indignantly. “Then I like the Carpenter
    best—if he didn’t eat so many as the Walrus.”

    “But he ate as many as he could get,” said Tweedledum.

    This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, “Well! They were _both_
    very unpleasant characters—” Here she checked herself in some alarm, at
    hearing something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large
    steam-engine in the wood near them, though she feared it was more
    likely to be a wild beast. “Are there any lions or tigers about here?”
    she asked timidly.

    “It’s only the Red King snoring,” said Tweedledee.

    “Come and look at him!” the brothers cried, and they each took one of
    Alice’s hands, and led her up to where the King was sleeping.

    “Isn’t he a _lovely_ sight?” said Tweedledum.

    Alice couldn’t say honestly that he was. He had a tall red night-cap
    on, with a tassel, and he was lying crumpled up into a sort of untidy
    heap, and snoring loud—“fit to snore his head off!” as Tweedledum
    remarked.

    “I’m afraid he’ll catch cold with lying on the damp grass,” said Alice,
    who was a very thoughtful little girl.

    “He’s dreaming now,” said Tweedledee: “and what do you think he’s
    dreaming about?”

    Alice said “Nobody can guess that.”

    “Why, about _you_!” Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands
    triumphantly. “And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you
    suppose you’d be?”

    “Where I am now, of course,” said Alice.

    “Not you!” Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. “You’d be nowhere. Why,
    you’re only a sort of thing in his dream!”

    “If that there King was to wake,” added Tweedledum, “you’d go
    out—bang!—just like a candle!”

    “I shouldn’t!” Alice exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, if _I’m_ only a
    sort of thing in his dream, what are _you_, I should like to know?”

    “Ditto” said Tweedledum.

    “Ditto, ditto” cried Tweedledee.

    He shouted this so loud that Alice couldn’t help saying, “Hush! You’ll
    be waking him, I’m afraid, if you make so much noise.”

    “Well, it no use _your_ talking about waking him,” said Tweedledum,
    “when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well
    you’re not real.”

    “I _am_ real!” said Alice and began to cry.

    “You won’t make yourself a bit realler by crying,” Tweedledee remarked:
    “there’s nothing to cry about.”

    “If I wasn’t real,” Alice said—half-laughing through her tears, it all
    seemed so ridiculous—“I shouldn’t be able to cry.”

    “I hope you don’t suppose those are real tears?” Tweedledum interrupted
    in a tone of great contempt.

    “I know they’re talking nonsense,” Alice thought to herself: “and it’s
    foolish to cry about it.” So she brushed away her tears, and went on as
    cheerfully as she could. “At any rate I’d better be getting out of the
    wood, for really it’s coming on very dark. Do you think it’s going to
    rain?”

    Tweedledum spread a large umbrella over himself and his brother, and
    looked up into it. “No, I don’t think it is,” he said: “at least—not
    under _here_. Nohow.”

    “But it may rain _outside_?”

    “It may—if it chooses,” said Tweedledee: “we’ve no objection.
    Contrariwise.”

    “Selfish things!” thought Alice, and she was just going to say
    “Good-night” and leave them, when Tweedledum sprang out from under the
    umbrella and seized her by the wrist.

    “Do you see _that_?” he said, in a voice choking with passion, and his
    eyes grew large and yellow all in a moment, as he pointed with a
    trembling finger at a small white thing lying under the tree.

    “It’s only a rattle,” Alice said, after a careful examination of the
    little white thing. “Not a rattle-_snake_, you know,” she added
    hastily, thinking that he was frightened: “only an old rattle—quite old
    and broken.”

    “I knew it was!” cried Tweedledum, beginning to stamp about wildly and
    tear his hair. “It’s spoilt, of course!” Here he looked at Tweedledee,
    who immediately sat down on the ground, and tried to hide himself under
    the umbrella.

    Alice laid her hand upon his arm, and said in a soothing tone, “You
    needn’t be so angry about an old rattle.”

    “But it isn’t old!” Tweedledum cried, in a greater fury than ever.
    “It’s new, I tell you—I bought it yesterday—my nice new RATTLE!” and
    his voice rose to a perfect scream.

    All this time Tweedledee was trying his best to fold up the umbrella,
    with himself in it: which was such an extraordinary thing to do, that
    it quite took off Alice’s attention from the angry brother. But he
    couldn’t quite succeed, and it ended in his rolling over, bundled up in
    the umbrella, with only his head out: and there he lay, opening and
    shutting his mouth and his large eyes—“looking more like a fish than
    anything else,” Alice thought.

    “Of course you agree to have a battle?” Tweedledum said in a calmer
    tone.

    “I suppose so,” the other sulkily replied, as he crawled out of the
    umbrella: “only _she_ must help us to dress up, you know.”

    So the two brothers went off hand-in-hand into the wood, and returned
    in a minute with their arms full of things—such as bolsters, blankets,
    hearth-rugs, table-cloths, dish-covers and coal-scuttles. “I hope
    you’re a good hand at pinning and tying strings?” Tweedledum remarked.
    “Every one of these things has got to go on, somehow or other.”

    Alice said afterwards she had never seen such a fuss made about
    anything in all her life—the way those two bustled about—and the
    quantity of things they put on—and the trouble they gave her in tying
    strings and fastening buttons—“Really they’ll be more like bundles of
    old clothes than anything else, by the time they’re ready!” she said to
    herself, as she arranged a bolster round the neck of Tweedledee, “to
    keep his head from being cut off,” as he said.

    “You know,” he added very gravely, “it’s one of the most serious things
    that can possibly happen to one in a battle—to get one’s head cut off.”

    Alice laughed aloud: but she managed to turn it into a cough, for fear
    of hurting his feelings.

    “Do I look very pale?” said Tweedledum, coming up to have his helmet
    tied on. (He _called_ it a helmet, though it certainly looked much more
    like a saucepan.)

    “Well—yes—a _little_,” Alice replied gently.

    “I’m very brave generally,” he went on in a low voice: “only to-day I
    happen to have a headache.”

    “And _I’ve_ got a toothache!” said Tweedledee, who had overheard the
    remark. “I’m far worse off than you!”

    “Then you’d better not fight to-day,” said Alice, thinking it a good
    opportunity to make peace.

    “We _must_ have a bit of a fight, but I don’t care about going on
    long,” said Tweedledum. “What’s the time now?”

    Tweedledee looked at his watch, and said “Half-past four.”

    “Let’s fight till six, and then have dinner,” said Tweedledum.

    “Very well,” the other said, rather sadly: “and _she_ can watch us—only
    you’d better not come _very_ close,” he added: “I generally hit
    everything I can see—when I get really excited.”

    “And _I_ hit everything within reach,” cried Tweedledum, “whether I can
    see it or not!”

    Alice laughed. “You must hit the _trees_ pretty often, I should think,”
    she said.

    Tweedledum looked round him with a satisfied smile. “I don’t suppose,”
    he said, “there’ll be a tree left standing, for ever so far round, by
    the time we’ve finished!”

    “And all about a rattle!” said Alice, still hoping to make them a
    _little_ ashamed of fighting for such a trifle.

    “I shouldn’t have minded it so much,” said Tweedledum, “if it hadn’t
    been a new one.”

    “I wish the monstrous crow would come!” thought Alice.

    “There’s only one sword, you know,” Tweedledum said to his brother:
    “but you can have the umbrella—it’s quite as sharp. Only we must begin
    quick. It’s getting as dark as it can.”

    “And darker,” said Tweedledee.

    It was getting dark so suddenly that Alice thought there must be a
    thunderstorm coming on. “What a thick black cloud that is!” she said.
    “And how fast it comes! Why, I do believe it’s got wings!”

    “It’s the crow!” Tweedledum cried out in a shrill voice of alarm: and
    the two brothers took to their heels and were out of sight in a moment.

    Alice ran a little way into the wood, and stopped under a large tree.
    “It can never get at me _here_,” she thought: “it’s far too large to
    squeeze itself in among the trees. But I wish it wouldn’t flap its
    wings so—it makes quite a hurricane in the wood—here’s somebody’s shawl
    being blown away!”

    CHAPTER V.
    Wool and Water

    She caught the shawl as she spoke, and looked about for the owner: in
    another moment the White Queen came running wildly through the wood,
    with both arms stretched out wide, as if she were flying, and Alice
    very civilly went to meet her with the shawl.

    “I’m very glad I happened to be in the way,” Alice said, as she helped
    her to put on her shawl again.

    The White Queen only looked at her in a helpless frightened sort of
    way, and kept repeating something in a whisper to herself that sounded
    like “bread-and-butter, bread-and-butter,” and Alice felt that if there
    was to be any conversation at all, she must manage it herself. So she
    began rather timidly: “Am I addressing the White Queen?”

    “Well, yes, if you call that a-dressing,” The Queen said. “It isn’t
    _my_ notion of the thing, at all.”

    Alice thought it would never do to have an argument at the very
    beginning of their conversation, so she smiled and said, “If your
    Majesty will only tell me the right way to begin, I’ll do it as well as
    I can.”

    “But I don’t want it done at all!” groaned the poor Queen. “I’ve been
    a-dressing myself for the last two hours.”

    It would have been all the better, as it seemed to Alice, if she had
    got some one else to dress her, she was so dreadfully untidy. “Every
    single thing’s crooked,” Alice thought to herself, “and she’s all over
    pins!—may I put your shawl straight for you?” she added aloud.

    “I don’t know what’s the matter with it!” the Queen said, in a
    melancholy voice. “It’s out of temper, I think. I’ve pinned it here,
    and I’ve pinned it there, but there’s no pleasing it!”

    “It _can’t_ go straight, you know, if you pin it all on one side,”
    Alice said, as she gently put it right for her; “and, dear me, what a
    state your hair is in!”

    “The brush has got entangled in it!” the Queen said with a sigh. “And I
    lost the comb yesterday.”

    Alice carefully released the brush, and did her best to get the hair
    into order. “Come, you look rather better now!” she said, after
    altering most of the pins. “But really you should have a lady’s maid!”

    “I’m sure I’ll take you with pleasure!” the Queen said. “Twopence a
    week, and jam every other day.”

    Alice couldn’t help laughing, as she said, “I don’t want you to hire
    _me_—and I don’t care for jam.”

    “It’s very good jam,” said the Queen.

    “Well, I don’t want any _to-day_, at any rate.”

    “You couldn’t have it if you _did_ want it,” the Queen said. “The rule
    is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday—but never jam to-day.”

    “It _must_ come sometimes to ‘jam to-day,’” Alice objected.

    “No, it can’t,” said the Queen. “It’s jam every _other_ day: to-day
    isn’t any _other_ day, you know.”

    “I don’t understand you,” said Alice. “It’s dreadfully confusing!”

    “That’s the effect of living backwards,” the Queen said kindly: “it
    always makes one a little giddy at first—”

    “Living backwards!” Alice repeated in great astonishment. “I never
    heard of such a thing!”

    “—but there’s one great advantage in it, that one’s memory works both
    ways.”

    “I’m sure _mine_ only works one way,” Alice remarked. “I can’t remember
    things before they happen.”

    “It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,” the Queen
    remarked.

    “What sort of things do _you_ remember best?” Alice ventured to ask.

    “Oh, things that happened the week after next,” the Queen replied in a
    careless tone. “For instance, now,” she went on, sticking a large piece
    of plaster on her finger as she spoke, “there’s the King’s Messenger.
    He’s in prison now, being punished: and the trial doesn’t even begin
    till next Wednesday: and of course the crime comes last of all.”

    “Suppose he never commits the crime?” said Alice.

    “That would be all the better, wouldn’t it?” the Queen said, as she
    bound the plaster round her finger with a bit of ribbon.

    Alice felt there was no denying _that_. “Of course it would be all the
    better,” she said: “but it wouldn’t be all the better his being
    punished.”

    “You’re wrong _there_, at any rate,” said the Queen: “were _you_ ever
    punished?”

    “Only for faults,” said Alice.

    “And you were all the better for it, I know!” the Queen said
    triumphantly.

    “Yes, but then I _had_ done the things I was punished for,” said Alice:
    “that makes all the difference.”

    “But if you _hadn’t_ done them,” the Queen said, “that would have been
    better still; better, and better, and better!” Her voice went higher
    with each “better,” till it got quite to a squeak at last.

    Alice was just beginning to say “There’s a mistake somewhere—,” when
    the Queen began screaming so loud that she had to leave the sentence
    unfinished. “Oh, oh, oh!” shouted the Queen, shaking her hand about as
    if she wanted to shake it off. “My finger’s bleeding! Oh, oh, oh, oh!”

    Her screams were so exactly like the whistle of a steam-engine, that
    Alice had to hold both her hands over her ears.

    “What _is_ the matter?” she said, as soon as there was a chance of
    making herself heard. “Have you pricked your finger?”

    “I haven’t pricked it _yet_,” the Queen said, “but I soon shall—oh, oh,
    oh!”

    “When do you expect to do it?” Alice asked, feeling very much inclined
    to laugh.

    “When I fasten my shawl again,” the poor Queen groaned out: “the brooch
    will come undone directly. Oh, oh!” As she said the words the brooch
    flew open, and the Queen clutched wildly at it, and tried to clasp it
    again.

    “Take care!” cried Alice. “You’re holding it all crooked!” And she
    caught at the brooch; but it was too late: the pin had slipped, and the
    Queen had pricked her finger.

    “That accounts for the bleeding, you see,” she said to Alice with a
    smile. “Now you understand the way things happen here.”

    “But why don’t you scream now?” Alice asked, holding her hands ready to
    put over her ears again.

    “Why, I’ve done all the screaming already,” said the Queen. “What would
    be the good of having it all over again?”

    By this time it was getting light. “The crow must have flown away, I
    think,” said Alice: “I’m so glad it’s gone. I thought it was the night
    coming on.”

    “I wish _I_ could manage to be glad!” the Queen said. “Only I never can
    remember the rule. You must be very happy, living in this wood, and
    being glad whenever you like!”

    “Only it is so _very_ lonely here!” Alice said in a melancholy voice;
    and at the thought of her loneliness two large tears came rolling down
    her cheeks.

    “Oh, don’t go on like that!” cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands
    in despair. “Consider what a great girl you are. Consider what a long
    way you’ve come to-day. Consider what o’clock it is. Consider anything,
    only don’t cry!”

    Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears.
    “Can _you_ keep from crying by considering things?” she asked.

    “That’s the way it’s done,” the Queen said with great decision: “nobody
    can do two things at once, you know. Let’s consider your age to begin
    with—how old are you?”

    “I’m seven and a half exactly.”

    “You needn’t say ‘exactually,’” the Queen remarked: “I can believe it
    without that. Now I’ll give _you_ something to believe. I’m just one
    hundred and one, five months and a day.”

    “I can’t believe _that_!” said Alice.

    “Can’t you?” the Queen said in a pitying tone. “Try again: draw a long
    breath, and shut your eyes.”

    Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one _can’t_ believe
    impossible things.”

    “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was
    your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve
    believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. There goes
    the shawl again!”

    The brooch had come undone as she spoke, and a sudden gust of wind blew
    the Queen’s shawl across a little brook. The Queen spread out her arms
    again, and went flying after it, and this time she succeeded in
    catching it for herself. “I’ve got it!” she cried in a triumphant tone.
    “Now you shall see me pin it on again, all by myself!”

    “Then I hope your finger is better now?” Alice said very politely, as
    she crossed the little brook after the Queen.

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    “Oh, much better!” cried the Queen, her voice rising to a squeak as she
    went on. “Much be-etter! Be-etter! Be-e-e-etter! Be-e-ehh!” The last
    word ended in a long bleat, so like a sheep that Alice quite started.

    She looked at the Queen, who seemed to have suddenly wrapped herself up
    in wool. Alice rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She couldn’t make out
    what had happened at all. Was she in a shop? And was that really—was it
    really a _sheep_ that was sitting on the other side of the counter? Rub
    as she could, she could make nothing more of it: she was in a little
    dark shop, leaning with her elbows on the counter, and opposite to her
    was an old Sheep, sitting in an arm-chair knitting, and every now and
    then leaving off to look at her through a great pair of spectacles.

    “What is it you want to buy?” the Sheep said at last, looking up for a
    moment from her knitting.

    “I don’t _quite_ know yet,” Alice said, very gently. “I should like to
    look all round me first, if I might.”

    “You may look in front of you, and on both sides, if you like,” said
    the Sheep: “but you can’t look _all_ round you—unless you’ve got eyes
    at the back of your head.”

    But these, as it happened, Alice had _not_ got: so she contented
    herself with turning round, looking at the shelves as she came to them.

    The shop seemed to be full of all manner of curious things—but the
    oddest part of it all was, that whenever she looked hard at any shelf,
    to make out exactly what it had on it, that particular shelf was always
    quite empty: though the others round it were crowded as full as they
    could hold.

    “Things flow about so here!” she said at last in a plaintive tone,
    after she had spent a minute or so in vainly pursuing a large bright
    thing, that looked sometimes like a doll and sometimes like a work-box,
    and was always in the shelf next above the one she was looking at. “And
    this one is the most provoking of all—but I’ll tell you what—” she
    added, as a sudden thought struck her, “I’ll follow it up to the very
    top shelf of all. It’ll puzzle it to go through the ceiling, I expect!”

    But even this plan failed: the “thing” went through the ceiling as
    quietly as possible, as if it were quite used to it.

    “Are you a child or a teetotum?” the Sheep said, as she took up another
    pair of needles. “You’ll make me giddy soon, if you go on turning round
    like that.” She was now working with fourteen pairs at once, and Alice
    couldn’t help looking at her in great astonishment.

    “How _can_ she knit with so many?” the puzzled child thought to
    herself. “She gets more and more like a porcupine every minute!”

    “Can you row?” the Sheep asked, handing her a pair of knitting-needles
    as she spoke.

    “Yes, a little—but not on land—and not with needles—” Alice was
    beginning to say, when suddenly the needles turned into oars in her
    hands, and she found they were in a little boat, gliding along between
    banks: so there was nothing for it but to do her best.

    “Feather!” cried the Sheep, as she took up another pair of needles.

    This didn’t sound like a remark that needed any answer, so Alice said
    nothing, but pulled away. There was something very queer about the
    water, she thought, as every now and then the oars got fast in it, and
    would hardly come out again.

    “Feather! Feather!” the Sheep cried again, taking more needles. “You’ll
    be catching a crab directly.”

    “A dear little crab!” thought Alice. “I should like that.”

    “Didn’t you hear me say ‘Feather’?” the Sheep cried angrily, taking up
    quite a bunch of needles.

    “Indeed I did,” said Alice: “you’ve said it very often—and very loud.
    Please, where _are_ the crabs?”

    “In the water, of course!” said the Sheep, sticking some of the needles
    into her hair, as her hands were full. “Feather, I say!”

    “_Why_ do you say ‘feather’ so often?” Alice asked at last, rather
    vexed. “I’m not a bird!”

    “You are,” said the Sheep: “you’re a little goose.”

    This offended Alice a little, so there was no more conversation for a
    minute or two, while the boat glided gently on, sometimes among beds of
    weeds (which made the oars stick fast in the water, worse then ever),
    and sometimes under trees, but always with the same tall river-banks
    frowning over their heads.

    “Oh, please! There are some scented rushes!” Alice cried in a sudden
    transport of delight. “There really are—and _such_ beauties!”

    “You needn’t say ‘please’ to _me_ about ’em,” the Sheep said, without
    looking up from her knitting: “I didn’t put ’em there, and I’m not
    going to take ’em away.”

    “No, but I meant—please, may we wait and pick some?” Alice pleaded. “If
    you don’t mind stopping the boat for a minute.”

    “How am _I_ to stop it?” said the Sheep. “If you leave off rowing,
    it’ll stop of itself.”

    So the boat was left to drift down the stream as it would, till it
    glided gently in among the waving rushes. And then the little sleeves
    were carefully rolled up, and the little arms were plunged in
    elbow-deep to get the rushes a good long way down before breaking them
    off—and for a while Alice forgot all about the Sheep and the knitting,
    as she bent over the side of the boat, with just the ends of her
    tangled hair dipping into the water—while with bright eager eyes she
    caught at one bunch after another of the darling scented rushes.

    “I only hope the boat won’t tipple over!” she said to herself. “Oh,
    _what_ a lovely one! Only I couldn’t quite reach it.” And it certainly
    _did_ seem a little provoking (“almost as if it happened on purpose,”
    she thought) that, though she managed to pick plenty of beautiful
    rushes as the boat glided by, there was always a more lovely one that
    she couldn’t reach.

    “The prettiest are always further!” she said at last, with a sigh at
    the obstinacy of the rushes in growing so far off, as, with flushed
    cheeks and dripping hair and hands, she scrambled back into her place,
    and began to arrange her new-found treasures.

    What mattered it to her just then that the rushes had begun to fade,
    and to lose all their scent and beauty, from the very moment that she
    picked them? Even real scented rushes, you know, last only a very
    little while—and these, being dream-rushes, melted away almost like
    snow, as they lay in heaps at her feet—but Alice hardly noticed this,
    there were so many other curious things to think about.

    They hadn’t gone much farther before the blade of one of the oars got
    fast in the water and _wouldn’t_ come out again (so Alice explained it
    afterwards), and the consequence was that the handle of it caught her
    under the chin, and, in spite of a series of little shrieks of “Oh, oh,
    oh!” from poor Alice, it swept her straight off the seat, and down
    among the heap of rushes.

    However, she wasn’t hurt, and was soon up again: the Sheep went on with
    her knitting all the while, just as if nothing had happened. “That was
    a nice crab you caught!” she remarked, as Alice got back into her
    place, very much relieved to find herself still in the boat.

    “Was it? I didn’t see it,” Said Alice, peeping cautiously over the side
    of the boat into the dark water. “I wish it hadn’t let go—I should so
    like to see a little crab to take home with me!” But the Sheep only
    laughed scornfully, and went on with her knitting.

    “Are there many crabs here?” said Alice.

    “Crabs, and all sorts of things,” said the Sheep: “plenty of choice,
    only make up your mind. Now, what _do_ you want to buy?”

    “To buy!” Alice echoed in a tone that was half astonished and half
    frightened—for the oars, and the boat, and the river, had vanished all
    in a moment, and she was back again in the little dark shop.

    “I should like to buy an egg, please,” she said timidly. “How do you
    sell them?”

    “Fivepence farthing for one—Twopence for two,” the Sheep replied.

    “Then two are cheaper than one?” Alice said in a surprised tone, taking
    out her purse.

    “Only you _must_ eat them both, if you buy two,” said the Sheep.

    “Then I’ll have _one_, please,” said Alice, as she put the money down
    on the counter. For she thought to herself, “They mightn’t be at all
    nice, you know.”

    The Sheep took the money, and put it away in a box: then she said “I
    never put things into people’s hands—that would never do—you must get
    it for yourself.” And so saying, she went off to the other end of the
    shop, and set the egg upright on a shelf.

    “I wonder _why_ it wouldn’t do?” thought Alice, as she groped her way
    among the tables and chairs, for the shop was very dark towards the
    end. “The egg seems to get further away the more I walk towards it. Let
    me see, is this a chair? Why, it’s got branches, I declare! How very
    odd to find trees growing here! And actually here’s a little brook!
    Well, this is the very queerest shop I ever saw!”

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    So she went on, wondering more and more at every step, as everything
    turned into a tree the moment she came up to it, and she quite expected
    the egg to do the same.

    CHAPTER VI.
    Humpty Dumpty

    However, the egg only got larger and larger, and more and more human:
    when she had come within a few yards of it, she saw that it had eyes
    and a nose and mouth; and when she had come close to it, she saw
    clearly that it was HUMPTY DUMPTY himself. “It can’t be anybody else!”
    she said to herself. “I’m as certain of it, as if his name were written
    all over his face.”

    It might have been written a hundred times, easily, on that enormous
    face. Humpty Dumpty was sitting with his legs crossed, like a Turk, on
    the top of a high wall—such a narrow one that Alice quite wondered how
    he could keep his balance—and, as his eyes were steadily fixed in the
    opposite direction, and he didn’t take the least notice of her, she
    thought he must be a stuffed figure after all.

    “And how exactly like an egg he is!” she said aloud, standing with her
    hands ready to catch him, for she was every moment expecting him to
    fall.

    “It’s _very_ provoking,” Humpty Dumpty said after a long silence,
    looking away from Alice as he spoke, “to be called an egg—_Very!_”

    “I said you _looked_ like an egg, Sir,” Alice gently explained. “And
    some eggs are very pretty, you know” she added, hoping to turn her
    remark into a sort of a compliment.

    “Some people,” said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as usual,
    “have no more sense than a baby!”

    Alice didn’t know what to say to this: it wasn’t at all like
    conversation, she thought, as he never said anything to _her_; in fact,
    his last remark was evidently addressed to a tree—so she stood and
    softly repeated to herself:—

    “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:
    Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
    All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
    Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.”

    “That last line is much too long for the poetry,” she added, almost out
    loud, forgetting that Humpty Dumpty would hear her.

    “Don’t stand there chattering to yourself like that,” Humpty Dumpty
    said, looking at her for the first time, “but tell me your name and
    your business.”

    “My _name_ is Alice, but—”

    “It’s a stupid enough name!” Humpty Dumpty interrupted impatiently.
    “What does it mean?”

    “_Must_ a name mean something?” Alice asked doubtfully.

    “Of course it must,” Humpty Dumpty said with a short laugh: “_my_ name
    means the shape I am—and a good handsome shape it is, too. With a name
    like yours, you might be any shape, almost.”

    “Why do you sit out here all alone?” said Alice, not wishing to begin
    an argument.

    “Why, because there’s nobody with me!” cried Humpty Dumpty. “Did you
    think I didn’t know the answer to _that_? Ask another.”

    “Don’t you think you’d be safer down on the ground?” Alice went on, not
    with any idea of making another riddle, but simply in her good-natured
    anxiety for the queer creature. “That wall is so _very_ narrow!”

    “What tremendously easy riddles you ask!” Humpty Dumpty growled out.
    “Of course I don’t think so! Why, if ever I _did_ fall off—which
    there’s no chance of—but _if_ I did—” Here he pursed his lips and
    looked so solemn and grand that Alice could hardly help laughing. “_If_
    I did fall,” he went on, “_The King has promised me—with his very own
    mouth_—to—to—”

    “To send all his horses and all his men,” Alice interrupted, rather
    unwisely.

    “Now I declare that’s too bad!” Humpty Dumpty cried, breaking into a
    sudden passion. “You’ve been listening at doors—and behind trees—and
    down chimneys—or you couldn’t have known it!”

    “I haven’t, indeed!” Alice said very gently. “It’s in a book.”

    “Ah, well! They may write such things in a _book_,” Humpty Dumpty said
    in a calmer tone. “That’s what you call a History of England, that is.
    Now, take a good look at me! I’m one that has spoken to a King, _I_ am:
    mayhap you’ll never see such another: and to show you I’m not proud,
    you may shake hands with me!” And he grinned almost from ear to ear, as
    he leant forwards (and as nearly as possible fell off the wall in doing
    so) and offered Alice his hand. She watched him a little anxiously as
    she took it. “If he smiled much more, the ends of his mouth might meet
    behind,” she thought: “and then I don’t know what would happen to his
    head! I’m afraid it would come off!”

    “Yes, all his horses and all his men,” Humpty Dumpty went on. “They’d
    pick me up again in a minute, _they_ would! However, this conversation
    is going on a little too fast: let’s go back to the last remark but
    one.”

    “I’m afraid I can’t quite remember it,” Alice said very politely.

    “In that case we start fresh,” said Humpty Dumpty, “and it’s my turn to
    choose a subject—” (“He talks about it just as if it was a game!”
    thought Alice.) “So here’s a question for you. How old did you say you
    were?”

    Alice made a short calculation, and said “Seven years and six months.”

    “Wrong!” Humpty Dumpty exclaimed triumphantly. “You never said a word
    like it!”

    “I though you meant ‘How old _are_ you?’” Alice explained.

    “If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” said Humpty Dumpty.

    Alice didn’t want to begin another argument, so she said nothing.

    “Seven years and six months!” Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully. “An
    uncomfortable sort of age. Now if you’d asked _my_ advice, I’d have
    said ‘Leave off at seven’—but it’s too late now.”

    “I never ask advice about growing,” Alice said indignantly.

    “Too proud?” the other inquired.

    Alice felt even more indignant at this suggestion. “I mean,” she said,
    “that one can’t help growing older.”

    “_One_ can’t, perhaps,” said Humpty Dumpty, “but _two_ can. With proper
    assistance, you might have left off at seven.”

    “What a beautiful belt you’ve got on!” Alice suddenly remarked.

    (They had had quite enough of the subject of age, she thought: and if
    they really were to take turns in choosing subjects, it was her turn
    now.) “At least,” she corrected herself on second thoughts, “a
    beautiful cravat, I should have said—no, a belt, I mean—I beg your
    pardon!” she added in dismay, for Humpty Dumpty looked thoroughly
    offended, and she began to wish she hadn’t chosen that subject. “If I
    only knew,” she thought to herself, “which was neck and which was
    waist!”

    Evidently Humpty Dumpty was very angry, though he said nothing for a
    minute or two. When he _did_ speak again, it was in a deep growl.

    “It is a—_most—provoking_—thing,” he said at last, “when a person
    doesn’t know a cravat from a belt!”

    “I know it’s very ignorant of me,” Alice said, in so humble a tone that
    Humpty Dumpty relented.

    “It’s a cravat, child, and a beautiful one, as you say. It’s a present
    from the White King and Queen. There now!”

    “Is it really?” said Alice, quite pleased to find that she _had_ chosen
    a good subject, after all.

    “They gave it me,” Humpty Dumpty continued thoughtfully, as he crossed
    one knee over the other and clasped his hands round it, “they gave it
    me—for an un-birthday present.”

    “I beg your pardon?” Alice said with a puzzled air.

    “I’m not offended,” said Humpty Dumpty.

    “I mean, what _is_ an un-birthday present?”

    “A present given when it isn’t your birthday, of course.”

    Alice considered a little. “I like birthday presents best,” she said at
    last.

    “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” cried Humpty Dumpty. “How
    many days are there in a year?”

    “Three hundred and sixty-five,” said Alice.

    “And how many birthdays have you?”

    “One.”

    “And if you take one from three hundred and sixty-five, what remains?”

    “Three hundred and sixty-four, of course.”

    Humpty Dumpty looked doubtful. “I’d rather see that done on paper,” he
    said.

    Alice couldn’t help smiling as she took out her memorandum-book, and
    worked the sum for him:

    365
    1
    ____
    364
    ___

    Humpty Dumpty took the book, and looked at it carefully. “That seems to
    be done right—” he began.

    “You’re holding it upside down!” Alice interrupted.

    “To be sure I was!” Humpty Dumpty said gaily, as she turned it round
    for him. “I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that
    _seems_ to be done right—though I haven’t time to look it over
    thoroughly just now—and that shows that there are three hundred and
    sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents—”

    “Certainly,” said Alice.

    “And only _one_ for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for
    you!”

    “I don’t know what you mean by ‘glory,’” Alice said.

    Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. “Of course you don’t—till I tell
    you. I meant ‘there’s a nice knock-down argument for you!’”

    “But ‘glory’ doesn’t mean ‘a nice knock-down argument,’” Alice
    objected.

    “When _I_ use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone,
    “it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”

    “The question is,” said Alice, “whether you _can_ make words mean so
    many different things.”

    “The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master—that’s
    all.”

    Alice was too much puzzled to say anything, so after a minute Humpty
    Dumpty began again. “They’ve a temper, some of them—particularly verbs,
    they’re the proudest—adjectives you can do anything with, but not
    verbs—however, _I_ can manage the whole lot of them! Impenetrability!
    That’s what _I_ say!”

    “Would you tell me, please,” said Alice “what that means?”

    “Now you talk like a reasonable child,” said Humpty Dumpty, looking
    very much pleased. “I meant by ‘impenetrability’ that we’ve had enough
    of that subject, and it would be just as well if you’d mention what you
    mean to do next, as I suppose you don’t mean to stop here all the rest
    of your life.”

    “That’s a great deal to make one word mean,” Alice said in a thoughtful
    tone.

    “When I make a word do a lot of work like that,” said Humpty Dumpty, “I
    always pay it extra.”

    “Oh!” said Alice. She was too much puzzled to make any other remark.

    “Ah, you should see ’em come round me of a Saturday night,” Humpty
    Dumpty went on, wagging his head gravely from side to side: “for to get
    their wages, you know.”

    (Alice didn’t venture to ask what he paid them with; and so you see I
    can’t tell _you_.)

    “You seem very clever at explaining words, Sir,” said Alice. “Would you
    kindly tell me the meaning of the poem called ‘Jabberwocky’?”

    “Let’s hear it,” said Humpty Dumpty. “I can explain all the poems that
    were ever invented—and a good many that haven’t been invented just
    yet.”

    This sounded very hopeful, so Alice repeated the first verse:

    ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    “That’s enough to begin with,” Humpty Dumpty interrupted: “there are
    plenty of hard words there. ‘_Brillig_’ means four o’clock in the
    afternoon—the time when you begin _broiling_ things for dinner.”

    “That’ll do very well,” said Alice: “and ‘_slithy_’?”

    “Well, ‘_slithy_’ means ‘lithe and slimy.’ ‘Lithe’ is the same as
    ‘active.’ You see it’s like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed
    up into one word.”

    “I see it now,” Alice remarked thoughtfully: “and what are ‘_toves_’?”

    “Well, ‘_toves_’ are something like badgers—they’re something like
    lizards—and they’re something like corkscrews.”

    “They must be very curious looking creatures.”

    “They are that,” said Humpty Dumpty: “also they make their nests under
    sun-dials—also they live on cheese.”

    “And what’s the ‘_gyre_’ and to ‘_gimble_’?”

    “To ‘_gyre_’ is to go round and round like a gyroscope. To ‘_gimble_’
    is to make holes like a gimlet.”

    “And ‘_the wabe_’ is the grass-plot round a sun-dial, I suppose?” said
    Alice, surprised at her own ingenuity.

    “Of course it is. It’s called ‘_wabe_,’ you know, because it goes a
    long way before it, and a long way behind it—”

    “And a long way beyond it on each side,” Alice added.

    “Exactly so. Well, then, ‘_mimsy_’ is ‘flimsy and miserable’ (there’s
    another portmanteau for you). And a ‘_borogove_’ is a thin
    shabby-looking bird with its feathers sticking out all round—something
    like a live mop.”

    “And then ‘_mome raths_’?” said Alice. “I’m afraid I’m giving you a
    great deal of trouble.”

    “Well, a ‘_rath_’ is a sort of green pig: but ‘_mome_’ I’m not certain
    about. I think it’s short for ‘from home’—meaning that they’d lost
    their way, you know.”

    “And what does ‘_outgrabe_’ mean?”

    “Well, ‘_outgrabing_’ is something between bellowing and whistling,
    with a kind of sneeze in the middle: however, you’ll hear it done,
    maybe—down in the wood yonder—and when you’ve once heard it you’ll be
    _quite_ content. Who’s been repeating all that hard stuff to you?”

    “I read it in a book,” said Alice. “But I had some poetry repeated to
    me, much easier than that, by—Tweedledee, I think it was.”

    “As to poetry, you know,” said Humpty Dumpty, stretching out one of his
    great hands, “_I_ can repeat poetry as well as other folk, if it comes
    to that—”

    “Oh, it needn’t come to that!” Alice hastily said, hoping to keep him
    from beginning.

    “The piece I’m going to repeat,” he went on without noticing her
    remark, “was written entirely for your amusement.”

    Alice felt that in that case she really _ought_ to listen to it, so she
    sat down, and said “Thank you” rather sadly.

    “In winter, when the fields are white,
    I sing this song for your delight—

    only I don’t sing it,” he added, as an explanation.

    “I see you don’t,” said Alice.

    “If you can _see_ whether I’m singing or not, you’ve sharper eyes than
    most.” Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.

    “In spring, when woods are getting green,
    I’ll try and tell you what I mean.”

    “Thank you very much,” said Alice.

    “In summer, when the days are long,
    Perhaps you’ll understand the song:

    In autumn, when the leaves are brown,
    Take pen and ink, and write it down.”

    “I will, if I can remember it so long,” said Alice.

    “You needn’t go on making remarks like that,” Humpty Dumpty said:
    “they’re not sensible, and they put me out.”

    “I sent a message to the fish:
    I told them ‘This is what I wish.’

    The little fishes of the sea,
    They sent an answer back to me.

    The little fishes’ answer was
    ‘We cannot do it, Sir, because—’”

    “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Alice.

    “It gets easier further on,” Humpty Dumpty replied.

    “I sent to them again to say
    ‘It will be better to obey.’

    The fishes answered with a grin,
    ‘Why, what a temper you are in!’

    I told them once, I told them twice:
    They would not listen to advice.

    I took a kettle large and new,
    Fit for the deed I had to do.

    My heart went hop, my heart went thump;
    I filled the kettle at the pump.

    Then some one came to me and said,
    ‘The little fishes are in bed.’

    I said to him, I said it plain,
    ‘Then you must wake them up again.’

    I said it very loud and clear;
    I went and shouted in his ear.”

    Humpty Dumpty raised his voice almost to a scream as he repeated this
    verse, and Alice thought with a shudder, “I wouldn’t have been the
    messenger for _anything_!”

    “But he was very stiff and proud;
    He said ‘You needn’t shout so loud!’

    And he was very proud and stiff;
    He said ‘I’d go and wake them, if—’

    I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
    I went to wake them up myself.

    And when I found the door was locked,
    I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.

    And when I found the door was shut,
    I tried to turn the handle, but—”

    There was a long pause.

    “Is that all?” Alice timidly asked.

    “That’s all,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Good-bye.”

    This was rather sudden, Alice thought: but, after such a _very_ strong
    hint that she ought to be going, she felt that it would hardly be civil
    to stay. So she got up, and held out her hand. “Good-bye, till we meet
    again!” she said as cheerfully as she could.

    “I shouldn’t know you again if we _did_ meet,” Humpty Dumpty replied in
    a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake; “you’re so
    exactly like other people.”

    “The face is what one goes by, generally,” Alice remarked in a
    thoughtful tone.

    “That’s just what I complain of,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Your face is the
    same as everybody has—the two eyes, so—” (marking their places in the
    air with this thumb) “nose in the middle, mouth under. It’s always the
    same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of the nose, for
    instance—or the mouth at the top—that would be _some_ help.”

    “It wouldn’t look nice,” Alice objected. But Humpty Dumpty only shut
    his eyes and said “Wait till you’ve tried.”

    Alice waited a minute to see if he would speak again, but as he never
    opened his eyes or took any further notice of her, she said “Good-bye!”
    once more, and, getting no answer to this, she quietly walked away: but
    she couldn’t help saying to herself as she went, “Of all the
    unsatisfactory—” (she repeated this aloud, as it was a great comfort to
    have such a long word to say) “of all the unsatisfactory people I
    _ever_ met—” She never finished the sentence, for at this moment a
    heavy crash shook the forest from end to end.

    CHAPTER VII.
    The Lion and the Unicorn

    The next moment soldiers came running through the wood, at first in
    twos and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in such
    crowds that they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got behind a
    tree, for fear of being run over, and watched them go by.

    She thought that in all her life she had never seen soldiers so
    uncertain on their feet: they were always tripping over something or
    other, and whenever one went down, several more always fell over him,
    so that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men.

    Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather better
    than the foot-soldiers: but even _they_ stumbled now and then; and it
    seemed to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled the rider
    fell off instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and Alice was
    very glad to get out of the wood into an open place, where she found
    the White King seated on the ground, busily writing in his
    memorandum-book.

    “I’ve sent them all!” the King cried in a tone of delight, on seeing
    Alice. “Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you came
    through the wood?”

    “Yes, I did,” said Alice: “several thousand, I should think.”

    “Four thousand two hundred and seven, that’s the exact number,” the
    King said, referring to his book. “I couldn’t send all the horses, you
    know, because two of them are wanted in the game. And I haven’t sent
    the two Messengers, either. They’re both gone to the town. Just look
    along the road, and tell me if you can see either of them.”

    “I see nobody on the road,” said Alice.

    “I only wish _I_ had such eyes,” the King remarked in a fretful tone.
    “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it’s as much
    as _I_ can do to see real people, by this light!”

    All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along the
    road, shading her eyes with one hand. “I see somebody now!” she
    exclaimed at last. “But he’s coming very slowly—and what curious
    attitudes he goes into!” (For the messenger kept skipping up and down,
    and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great hands
    spread out like fans on each side.)

    “Not at all,” said the King. “He’s an Anglo-Saxon Messenger—and those
    are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he’s happy. His name
    is Haigha.” (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with “mayor.”)

    “I love my love with an H,” Alice couldn’t help beginning, “because he
    is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him
    with—with—with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name is Haigha, and he
    lives—”

    “He lives on the Hill,” the King remarked simply, without the least
    idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still hesitating
    for the name of a town beginning with H. “The other Messenger’s called
    Hatta. I must have _two_, you know—to come and go. One to come, and one
    to go.”

    “I beg your pardon?” said Alice.

    “It isn’t respectable to beg,” said the King.

    “I only meant that I didn’t understand,” said Alice. “Why one to come
    and one to go?”

    “Didn’t I tell you?” the King repeated impatiently. “I must have
    _two_—to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry.”

    At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was far too much out of breath
    to say a word, and could only wave his hands about, and make the most
    fearful faces at the poor King.

    “This young lady loves you with an H,” the King said, introducing Alice
    in the hope of turning off the Messenger’s attention from himself—but
    it was no use—the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more extraordinary
    every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side to side.

    “You alarm me!” said the King. “I feel faint—Give me a ham sandwich!”

    On which the Messenger, to Alice’s great amusement, opened a bag that
    hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it
    greedily.

    “Another sandwich!” said the King.

    “There’s nothing but hay left now,” the Messenger said, peeping into
    the bag.

    “Hay, then,” the King murmured in a faint whisper.

    Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal. “There’s nothing
    like eating hay when you’re faint,” he remarked to her, as he munched
    away.

    “I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,” Alice
    suggested: “or some sal-volatile.”

    “I didn’t say there was nothing _better_,” the King replied. “I said
    there was nothing _like_ it.” Which Alice did not venture to deny.

    “Who did you pass on the road?” the King went on, holding out his hand
    to the Messenger for some more hay.

    “Nobody,” said the Messenger.

    “Quite right,” said the King: “this young lady saw him too. So of
    course Nobody walks slower than you.”

    “I do my best,” the Messenger said in a sulky tone. “I’m sure nobody
    walks much faster than I do!”

    “He can’t do that,” said the King, “or else he’d have been here first.
    However, now you’ve got your breath, you may tell us what’s happened in
    the town.”

    “I’ll whisper it,” said the Messenger, putting his hands to his mouth
    in the shape of a trumpet, and stooping so as to get close to the
    King’s ear. Alice was sorry for this, as she wanted to hear the news
    too. However, instead of whispering, he simply shouted at the top of
    his voice “They’re at it again!”

    “Do you call _that_ a whisper?” cried the poor King, jumping up and
    shaking himself. “If you do such a thing again, I’ll have you buttered!
    It went through and through my head like an earthquake!”

    “It would have to be a very tiny earthquake!” thought Alice. “Who are
    at it again?” she ventured to ask.

    “Why the Lion and the Unicorn, of course,” said the King.

    “Fighting for the crown?”

    “Yes, to be sure,” said the King: “and the best of the joke is, that
    it’s _my_ crown all the while! Let’s run and see them.” And they
    trotted off, Alice repeating to herself, as she ran, the words of the
    old song:—

    “The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown:
    The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.
    Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown;
    Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town.”

    “Does—the one—that wins—get the crown?” she asked, as well as she
    could, for the run was putting her quite out of breath.

    “Dear me, no!” said the King. “What an idea!”

    “Would you—be good enough,” Alice panted out, after running a little
    further, “to stop a minute—just to get—one’s breath again?”

    “I’m _good_ enough,” the King said, “only I’m not strong enough. You
    see, a minute goes by so fearfully quick. You might as well try to stop
    a Bandersnatch!”

    Alice had no more breath for talking, so they trotted on in silence,
    till they came in sight of a great crowd, in the middle of which the
    Lion and Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud of dust, that
    at first Alice could not make out which was which: but she soon managed
    to distinguish the Unicorn by his horn.

    They placed themselves close to where Hatta, the other messenger, was
    standing watching the fight, with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece
    of bread-and-butter in the other.

    “He’s only just out of prison, and he hadn’t finished his tea when he
    was sent in,” Haigha whispered to Alice: “and they only give them
    oyster-shells in there—so you see he’s very hungry and thirsty. How are
    you, dear child?” he went on, putting his arm affectionately round
    Hatta’s neck.

    Hatta looked round and nodded, and went on with his bread and butter.

    “Were you happy in prison, dear child?” said Haigha.

    Hatta looked round once more, and this time a tear or two trickled down
    his cheek: but not a word would he say.

    “Speak, can’t you!” Haigha cried impatiently. But Hatta only munched
    away, and drank some more tea.

    “Speak, won’t you!” cried the King. “How are they getting on with the
    fight?”

    Hatta made a desperate effort, and swallowed a large piece of
    bread-and-butter. “They’re getting on very well,” he said in a choking
    voice: “each of them has been down about eighty-seven times.”

    “Then I suppose they’ll soon bring the white bread and the brown?”
    Alice ventured to remark.

    “It’s waiting for ’em now,” said Hatta: “this is a bit of it as I’m
    eating.”

    There was a pause in the fight just then, and the Lion and the Unicorn
    sat down, panting, while the King called out “Ten minutes allowed for
    refreshments!” Haigha and Hatta set to work at once, carrying rough
    trays of white and brown bread. Alice took a piece to taste, but it was
    _very_ dry.

    “I don’t think they’ll fight any more to-day,” the King said to Hatta:
    “go and order the drums to begin.” And Hatta went bounding away like a
    grasshopper.

    For a minute or two Alice stood silent, watching him. Suddenly she
    brightened up. “Look, look!” she cried, pointing eagerly. “There’s the
    White Queen running across the country! She came flying out of the wood
    over yonder—How fast those Queens _can_ run!”

    “There’s some enemy after her, no doubt,” the King said, without even
    looking round. “That wood’s full of them.”

    “But aren’t you going to run and help her?” Alice asked, very much
    surprised at his taking it so quietly.

    “No use, no use!” said the King. “She runs so fearfully quick. You
    might as well try to catch a Bandersnatch! But I’ll make a memorandum
    about her, if you like—She’s a dear good creature,” he repeated softly
    to himself, as he opened his memorandum-book. “Do you spell ‘creature’
    with a double ‘e’?”

    At this moment the Unicorn sauntered by them, with his hands in his
    pockets. “I had the best of it this time?” he said to the King, just
    glancing at him as he passed.

    “A little—a little,” the King replied, rather nervously. “You shouldn’t
    have run him through with your horn, you know.”

    “It didn’t hurt him,” the Unicorn said carelessly, and he was going on,
    when his eye happened to fall upon Alice: he turned round rather
    instantly, and stood for some time looking at her with an air of the
    deepest disgust.

    “What—is—this?” he said at last.

    “This is a child!” Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice to
    introduce her, and spreading out both his hands towards her in an
    Anglo-Saxon attitude. “We only found it to-day. It’s as large as life,
    and twice as natural!”

    “I always thought they were fabulous monsters!” said the Unicorn. “Is
    it alive?”

    “It can talk,” said Haigha, solemnly.

    The Unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said “Talk, child.”

    Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: “Do
    you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I
    never saw one alive before!”

    “Well, now that we _have_ seen each other,” said the Unicorn, “if
    you’ll believe in me, I’ll believe in you. Is that a bargain?”

    “Yes, if you like,” said Alice.

    “Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man!” the Unicorn went on, turning
    from her to the King. “None of your brown bread for me!”

    “Certainly—certainly!” the King muttered, and beckoned to Haigha. “Open
    the bag!” he whispered. “Quick! Not that one—that’s full of hay!”

    Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave it to Alice to hold,
    while he got out a dish and carving-knife. How they all came out of it
    Alice couldn’t guess. It was just like a conjuring-trick, she thought.

    The Lion had joined them while this was going on: he looked very tired
    and sleepy, and his eyes were half shut. “What’s this!” he said,
    blinking lazily at Alice, and speaking in a deep hollow tone that
    sounded like the tolling of a great bell.

    “Ah, what _is_ it, now?” the Unicorn cried eagerly. “You’ll never
    guess! _I_ couldn’t.”

    The Lion looked at Alice wearily. “Are you animal—vegetable—or
    mineral?” he said, yawning at every other word.

    “It’s a fabulous monster!” the Unicorn cried out, before Alice could
    reply.

    “Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster,” the Lion said, lying down and
    putting his chin on his paws. “And sit down, both of you,” (to the King
    and the Unicorn): “fair play with the cake, you know!”

    The King was evidently very uncomfortable at having to sit down between
    the two great creatures; but there was no other place for him.

    “What a fight we might have for the crown, _now_!” the Unicorn said,
    looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor King was nearly shaking
    off his head, he trembled so much.

    “I should win easy,” said the Lion.

    “I’m not so sure of that,” said the Unicorn.

    “Why, I beat you all round the town, you chicken!” the Lion replied
    angrily, half getting up as he spoke.

    Here the King interrupted, to prevent the quarrel going on: he was very
    nervous, and his voice quite quivered. “All round the town?” he said.
    “That’s a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or the
    market-place? You get the best view by the old bridge.”

    “I’m sure I don’t know,” the Lion growled out as he lay down again.
    “There was too much dust to see anything. What a time the Monster is,
    cutting up that cake!”

    Alice had seated herself on the bank of a little brook, with the great
    dish on her knees, and was sawing away diligently with the knife. “It’s
    very provoking!” she said, in reply to the Lion (she was getting quite
    used to being called “the Monster”). “I’ve cut several slices already,
    but they always join on again!”

    “You don’t know how to manage Looking-glass cakes,” the Unicorn
    remarked. “Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.”

    This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up, and carried
    the dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as she
    did so. “_Now_ cut it up,” said the Lion, as she returned to her place
    with the empty dish.

    “I say, this isn’t fair!” cried the Unicorn, as Alice sat with the
    knife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. “The Monster has
    given the Lion twice as much as me!”

    “She’s kept none for herself, anyhow,” said the Lion. “Do you like
    plum-cake, Monster?”

    But before Alice could answer him, the drums began.

    Where the noise came from, she couldn’t make out: the air seemed full
    of it, and it rang through and through her head till she felt quite
    deafened. She started to her feet and sprang across the little brook in
    her terror,

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    and had just time to see the Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet,
    with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before she
    dropped to her knees, and put her hands over her ears, vainly trying to
    shut out the dreadful uproar.

    “If _that_ doesn’t ‘drum them out of town,’” she thought to herself,
    “nothing ever will!”

    CHAPTER VIII.
    “It’s my own Invention”

    After a while the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was dead
    silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one
    to be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming
    about the Lion and the Unicorn and those queer Anglo-Saxon Messengers.
    However, there was the great dish still lying at her feet, on which she
    had tried to cut the plum-cake, “So I wasn’t dreaming, after all,” she
    said to herself, “unless—unless we’re all part of the same dream. Only
    I do hope it’s _my_ dream, and not the Red King’s! I don’t like
    belonging to another person’s dream,” she went on in a rather
    complaining tone: “I’ve a great mind to go and wake him, and see what
    happens!”

    At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of
    “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and a Knight dressed in crimson armour came
    galloping down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached
    her, the horse stopped suddenly: “You’re my prisoner!” the Knight
    cried, as he tumbled off his horse.

    Startled as she was, Alice was more frightened for him than for herself
    at the moment, and watched him with some anxiety as he mounted again.
    As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once more “You’re
    my—” but here another voice broke in “Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!” and Alice
    looked round in some surprise for the new enemy.

    This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at Alice’s side, and
    tumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had done: then he got on
    again, and the two Knights sat and looked at each other for some time
    without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some
    bewilderment.

    “She’s _my_ prisoner, you know!” the Red Knight said at last.

    “Yes, but then _I_ came and rescued her!” the White Knight replied.

    “Well, we must fight for her, then,” said the Red Knight, as he took up
    his helmet (which hung from the saddle, and was something the shape of
    a horse’s head), and put it on.

    “You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course?” the White Knight
    remarked, putting on his helmet too.

    “I always do,” said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at each
    other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way
    of the blows.

    “I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,” she said to herself, as
    she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: “one
    Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off
    his horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself—and another Rule
    seems to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if they were
    Punch and Judy—What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a
    whole set of fire-irons falling into the fender! And how quiet the
    horses are! They let them get on and off them just as if they were
    tables!”

    Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that
    they always fell on their heads, and the battle ended with their both
    falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they
    shook hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.

    “It was a glorious victory, wasn’t it?” said the White Knight, as he
    came up panting.

    “I don’t know,” Alice said doubtfully. “I don’t want to be anybody’s
    prisoner. I want to be a Queen.”

    “So you will, when you’ve crossed the next brook,” said the White
    Knight. “I’ll see you safe to the end of the wood—and then I must go
    back, you know. That’s the end of my move.”

    “Thank you very much,” said Alice. “May I help you off with your
    helmet?” It was evidently more than he could manage by himself;
    however, she managed to shake him out of it at last.

    “Now one can breathe more easily,” said the Knight, putting back his
    shaggy hair with both hands, and turning his gentle face and large mild
    eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a strange-looking
    soldier in all her life.

    He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to fit him very badly, and
    he had a queer-shaped little deal box fastened across his shoulder,
    upside-down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with
    great curiosity.

    “I see you’re admiring my little box.” the Knight said in a friendly
    tone. “It’s my own invention—to keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see
    I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can’t get in.”

    “But the things can get _out_,” Alice gently remarked. “Do you know the
    lid’s open?”

    “I didn’t know it,” the Knight said, a shade of vexation passing over
    his face. “Then all the things must have fallen out! And the box is no
    use without them.” He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to
    throw it into the bushes, when a sudden thought seemed to strike him,
    and he hung it carefully on a tree. “Can you guess why I did that?” he
    said to Alice.

    Alice shook her head.

    “In hopes some bees may make a nest in it—then I should get the honey.”

    “But you’ve got a bee-hive—or something like one—fastened to the
    saddle,” said Alice.

    “Yes, it’s a very good bee-hive,” the Knight said in a discontented
    tone, “one of the best kind. But not a single bee has come near it yet.
    And the other thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the bees
    out—or the bees keep the mice out, I don’t know which.”

    “I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for,” said Alice. “It isn’t
    very likely there would be any mice on the horse’s back.”

    “Not very likely, perhaps,” said the Knight: “but if they _do_ come, I
    don’t choose to have them running all about.”

    “You see,” he went on after a pause, “it’s as well to be provided for
    _everything_. That’s the reason the horse has all those anklets round
    his feet.”

    “But what are they for?” Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

    “To guard against the bites of sharks,” the Knight replied. “It’s an
    invention of my own. And now help me on. I’ll go with you to the end of
    the wood—What’s the dish for?”

    “It’s meant for plum-cake,” said Alice.

    “We’d better take it with us,” the Knight said. “It’ll come in handy if
    we find any plum-cake. Help me to get it into this bag.”

    This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag open
    very carefully, because the Knight was so _very_ awkward in putting in
    the dish: the first two or three times that he tried he fell in himself
    instead. “It’s rather a tight fit, you see,” he said, as they got it in
    a last; “There are so many candlesticks in the bag.” And he hung it to
    the saddle, which was already loaded with bunches of carrots, and
    fire-irons, and many other things.

    “I hope you’ve got your hair well fastened on?” he continued, as they
    set off.

    “Only in the usual way,” Alice said, smiling.

    “That’s hardly enough,” he said, anxiously. “You see the wind is so
    _very_ strong here. It’s as strong as soup.”

    “Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off?”
    Alice enquired.

    “Not yet,” said the Knight. “But I’ve got a plan for keeping it from
    _falling_ off.”

    “I should like to hear it, very much.”

    “First you take an upright stick,” said the Knight. “Then you make your
    hair creep up it, like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is
    because it hangs _down_—things never fall _upwards_, you know. It’s a
    plan of my own invention. You may try it if you like.”

    It didn’t sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought, and for a few
    minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now
    and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was _not_ a
    good rider.

    Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off in
    front; and whenever it went on again (which it generally did rather
    suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except
    that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways; and as he
    generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon
    found that it was the best plan not to walk _quite_ close to the horse.

    “I’m afraid you’ve not had much practice in riding,” she ventured to
    say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.

    The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended at the
    remark. “What makes you say that?” he asked, as he scrambled back into
    the saddle, keeping hold of Alice’s hair with one hand, to save himself
    from falling over on the other side.

    “Because people don’t fall off quite so often, when they’ve had much
    practice.”

    “I’ve had plenty of practice,” the Knight said very gravely: “plenty of
    practice!”

    Alice could think of nothing better to say than “Indeed?” but she said
    it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence after
    this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice
    watching anxiously for the next tumble.

    “The great art of riding,” the Knight suddenly began in a loud voice,
    waving his right arm as he spoke, “is to keep—” Here the sentence ended
    as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on the top of
    his head exactly in the path where Alice was walking. She was quite
    frightened this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked him
    up, “I hope no bones are broken?”

    “None to speak of,” the Knight said, as if he didn’t mind breaking two
    or three of them. “The great art of riding, as I was saying, is—to keep
    your balance properly. Like this, you know—”

    He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his arms to show Alice
    what he meant, and this time he fell flat on his back, right under the
    horse’s feet.

    “Plenty of practice!” he went on repeating, all the time that Alice was
    getting him on his feet again. “Plenty of practice!”

    “It’s too ridiculous!” cried Alice, losing all her patience this time.
    “You ought to have a wooden horse on wheels, that you ought!”

    “Does that kind go smoothly?” the Knight asked in a tone of great
    interest, clasping his arms round the horse’s neck as he spoke, just in
    time to save himself from tumbling off again.

    “Much more smoothly than a live horse,” Alice said, with a little
    scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it.

    “I’ll get one,” the Knight said thoughtfully to himself. “One or
    two—several.”

    There was a short silence after this, and then the Knight went on
    again. “I’m a great hand at inventing things. Now, I daresay you
    noticed, that last time you picked me up, that I was looking rather
    thoughtful?”

    “You _were_ a little grave,” said Alice.

    “Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate—would
    you like to hear it?”

    “Very much indeed,” Alice said politely.

    “I’ll tell you how I came to think of it,” said the Knight. “You see, I
    said to myself, ‘The only difficulty is with the feet: the _head_ is
    high enough already.’ Now, first I put my head on the top of the
    gate—then I stand on my head—then the feet are high enough, you
    see—then I’m over, you see.”

    “Yes, I suppose you’d be over when that was done,” Alice said
    thoughtfully: “but don’t you think it would be rather hard?”

    “I haven’t tried it yet,” the Knight said, gravely: “so I can’t tell
    for certain—but I’m afraid it _would_ be a little hard.”

    He looked so vexed at the idea, that Alice changed the subject hastily.
    “What a curious helmet you’ve got!” she said cheerfully. “Is that your
    invention too?”

    The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet, which hung from the
    saddle. “Yes,” he said, “but I’ve invented a better one than that—like
    a sugar loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell off the horse, it
    always touched the ground directly. So I had a _very_ little way to
    fall, you see—But there _was_ the danger of falling _into_ it, to be
    sure. That happened to me once—and the worst of it was, before I could
    get out again, the other White Knight came and put it on. He thought it
    was his own helmet.”

    The knight looked so solemn about it that Alice did not dare to laugh.
    “I’m afraid you must have hurt him,” she said in a trembling voice,
    “being on the top of his head.”

    “I had to kick him, of course,” the Knight said, very seriously. “And
    then he took the helmet off again—but it took hours and hours to get me
    out. I was as fast as—as lightning, you know.”

    “But that’s a different kind of fastness,” Alice objected.

    The Knight shook his head. “It was all kinds of fastness with me, I can
    assure you!” he said. He raised his hands in some excitement as he said
    this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell headlong into a
    deep ditch.

    Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him. She was rather
    startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well, and
    she was afraid that he really _was_ hurt this time. However, though she
    could see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to
    hear that he was talking on in his usual tone. “All kinds of fastness,”
    he repeated: “but it was careless of him to put another man’s helmet
    on—with the man in it, too.”

    “How _can_ you go on talking so quietly, head downwards?” Alice asked,
    as she dragged him out by the feet, and laid him in a heap on the bank.

    The Knight looked surprised at the question. “What does it matter where
    my body happens to be?” he said. “My mind goes on working all the same.
    In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new
    things.”

    “Now the cleverest thing of the sort that I ever did,” he went on after
    a pause, “was inventing a new pudding during the meat-course.”

    “In time to have it cooked for the next course?” said Alice.

    “Well, not the _next_ course,” the Knight said in a slow thoughtful
    tone: “no, certainly not the next _course_.”

    “Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn’t have two
    pudding-courses in one dinner?”

    “Well, not the _next_ day,” the Knight repeated as before: “not the
    next _day_. In fact,” he went on, holding his head down, and his voice
    getting lower and lower, “I don’t believe that pudding ever _was_
    cooked! In fact, I don’t believe that pudding ever _will_ be cooked!
    And yet it was a very clever pudding to invent.”

    “What did you mean it to be made of?” Alice asked, hoping to cheer him
    up, for the poor Knight seemed quite low-spirited about it.

    “It began with blotting paper,” the Knight answered with a groan.

    “That wouldn’t be very nice, I’m afraid—”

    “Not very nice _alone_,” he interrupted, quite eagerly: “but you’ve no
    idea what a difference it makes mixing it with other things—such as
    gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must leave you.” They had just
    come to the end of the wood.

    Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking of the pudding.

    “You are sad,” the Knight said in an anxious tone: “let me sing you a
    song to comfort you.”

    “Is it very long?” Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry
    that day.

    “It’s long,” said the Knight, “but very, _very_ beautiful. Everybody
    that hears me sing it—either it brings the _tears_ into their eyes, or
    else—”

    “Or else what?” said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.

    “Or else it doesn’t, you know. The name of the song is called
    ‘_Haddocks’ Eyes_.’”

    “Oh, that’s the name of the song, is it?” Alice said, trying to feel
    interested.

    “No, you don’t understand,” the Knight said, looking a little vexed.
    “That’s what the name is _called_. The name really _is_ ‘_The Aged Aged
    Man_.’”

    “Then I ought to have said ‘That’s what the _song_ is called’?” Alice
    corrected herself.

    “No, you oughtn’t: that’s quite another thing! The _song_ is called
    ‘_Ways and Means_’: but that’s only what it’s _called_, you know!”

    “Well, what _is_ the song, then?” said Alice, who was by this time
    completely bewildered.

    “I was coming to that,” the Knight said. “The song really _is_
    ‘_A-sitting On A Gate_’: and the tune’s my own invention.”

    So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins fall on its neck:
    then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint smile
    lighting up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music of his
    song, he began.

    Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey Through The
    Looking-Glass, this was the one that she always remembered most
    clearly. Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene back again,
    as if it had been only yesterday—the mild blue eyes and kindly smile of
    the Knight—the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on
    his armour in a blaze of light that quite dazzled her—the horse quietly
    moving about, with the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the
    grass at her feet—and the black shadows of the forest behind—all this
    she took in like a picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she
    leant against a tree, watching the strange pair, and listening, in a
    half dream, to the melancholy music of the song.

    “But the tune _isn’t_ his own invention,” she said to herself: “it’s
    ‘_I give thee all, I can no more_.’” She stood and listened very
    attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

    “I’ll tell thee everything I can;
    There’s little to relate.
    I saw an aged aged man,
    A-sitting on a gate.
    ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said,
    ‘and how is it you live?’
    And his answer trickled through my head
    Like water through a sieve.

    He said ‘I look for butterflies
    That sleep among the wheat:
    I make them into mutton-pies,
    And sell them in the street.
    I sell them unto men,’ he said,
    ‘Who sail on stormy seas;
    And that’s the way I get my bread—
    A trifle, if you please.’

    But I was thinking of a plan
    To dye one’s whiskers green,
    And always use so large a fan
    That they could not be seen.
    So, having no reply to give
    To what the old man said,
    I cried, ‘Come, tell me how you live!’
    And thumped him on the head.

    His accents mild took up the tale:
    He said ‘I go my ways,
    And when I find a mountain-rill,
    I set it in a blaze;
    And thence they make a stuff they call
    Rolands’ Macassar Oil—
    Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
    They give me for my toil.’

    But I was thinking of a way
    To feed oneself on batter,
    And so go on from day to day
    Getting a little fatter.
    I shook him well from side to side,
    Until his face was blue:
    ‘Come, tell me how you live,’ I cried,
    ‘And what it is you do!’

    He said ‘I hunt for haddocks’ eyes
    Among the heather bright,
    And work them into waistcoat-buttons
    In the silent night.
    And these I do not sell for gold
    Or coin of silvery shine
    But for a copper halfpenny,
    And that will purchase nine.

    ‘I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
    Or set limed twigs for crabs;
    I sometimes search the grassy knolls
    For wheels of Hansom-cabs.
    And that’s the way’ (he gave a wink)
    ‘By which I get my wealth—
    And very gladly will I drink
    Your Honour’s noble health.’

    I heard him then, for I had just
    Completed my design
    To keep the Menai bridge from rust
    By boiling it in wine.
    I thanked him much for telling me
    The way he got his wealth,
    But chiefly for his wish that he
    Might drink my noble health.

    And now, if e’er by chance I put
    My fingers into glue
    Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
    Into a left-hand shoe,
    Or if I drop upon my toe
    A very heavy weight,
    I weep, for it reminds me so,
    Of that old man I used to know—
    Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
    Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
    Whose face was very like a crow,
    With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
    Who seemed distracted with his woe,
    Who rocked his body to and fro,
    And muttered mumblingly and low,
    As if his mouth were full of dough,
    Who snorted like a buffalo—
    That summer evening, long ago,
    A-sitting on a gate.”

    As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad, he gathered up the
    reins, and turned his horse’s head along the road by which they had
    come. “You’ve only a few yards to go,” he said, “down the hill and over
    that little brook, and then you’ll be a Queen—But you’ll stay and see
    me off first?” he added as Alice turned with an eager look in the
    direction to which he pointed. “I shan’t be long. You’ll wait and wave
    your handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think it’ll
    encourage me, you see.”

    “Of course I’ll wait,” said Alice: “and thank you very much for coming
    so far—and for the song—I liked it very much.”

    “I hope so,” the Knight said doubtfully: “but you didn’t cry so much as
    I thought you would.”

    So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly away into the
    forest. “It won’t take long to see him _off_, I expect,” Alice said to
    herself, as she stood watching him. “There he goes! Right on his head
    as usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily—that comes of having
    so many things hung round the horse—” So she went on talking to
    herself, as she watched the horse walking leisurely along the road, and
    the Knight tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After
    the fourth or fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her
    handkerchief to him, and waited till he was out of sight.

    “I hope it encouraged him,” she said, as she turned to run down the
    hill: “and now for the last brook, and to be a Queen! How grand it
    sounds!” A very few steps brought her to the edge of the brook. “The
    Eighth Square at last!” she cried as she bounded across,

    * * * * * * *

    * * * * * *

    * * * * * * *

    and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little
    flower-beds dotted about it here and there. “Oh, how glad I am to get
    here! And what _is_ this on my head?” she exclaimed in a tone of
    dismay, as she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted
    tight all round her head.

    “But how _can_ it have got there without my knowing it?” she said to
    herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out what
    it could possibly be.

    It was a golden crown.

    CHAPTER IX.
    Queen Alice

    “Well, this _is_ grand!” said Alice. “I never expected I should be a
    Queen so soon—and I’ll tell you what it is, your majesty,” she went on
    in a severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding herself),
    “it’ll never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that!
    Queens have to be dignified, you know!”

    So she got up and walked about—rather stiffly just at first, as she was
    afraid that the crown might come off: but she comforted herself with
    the thought that there was nobody to see her, “and if I really am a
    Queen,” she said as she sat down again, “I shall be able to manage it
    quite well in time.”

    Everything was happening so oddly that she didn’t feel a bit surprised
    at finding the Red Queen and the White Queen sitting close to her, one
    on each side: she would have liked very much to ask them how they came
    there, but she feared it would not be quite civil. However, there would
    be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over. “Please, would
    you tell me—” she began, looking timidly at the Red Queen.

    “Speak when you’re spoken to!” The Queen sharply interrupted her.

    “But if everybody obeyed that rule,” said Alice, who was always ready
    for a little argument, “and if you only spoke when you were spoken to,
    and the other person always waited for _you_ to begin, you see nobody
    would ever say anything, so that—”

    “Ridiculous!” cried the Queen. “Why, don’t you see, child—” here she
    broke off with a frown, and, after thinking for a minute, suddenly
    changed the subject of the conversation. “What do you mean by ‘If you
    really are a Queen’? What right have you to call yourself so? You can’t
    be a Queen, you know, till you’ve passed the proper examination. And
    the sooner we begin it, the better.”

    “I only said ‘if’!” poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone.

    The two Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with a
    little shudder, “She _says_ she only said ‘if’—”

    “But she said a great deal more than that!” the White Queen moaned,
    wringing her hands. “Oh, ever so much more than that!”

    “So you did, you know,” the Red Queen said to Alice. “Always speak the
    truth—think before you speak—and write it down afterwards.”

    “I’m sure I didn’t mean—” Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen
    interrupted her impatiently.

    “That’s just what I complain of! You _should_ have meant! What do you
    suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should
    have some meaning—and a child’s more important than a joke, I hope. You
    couldn’t deny that, even if you tried with both hands.”

    “I don’t deny things with my _hands_,” Alice objected.

    “Nobody said you did,” said the Red Queen. “I said you couldn’t if you
    tried.”

    “She’s in that state of mind,” said the White Queen, “that she wants to
    deny _something_—only she doesn’t know what to deny!”

    “A nasty, vicious temper,” the Red Queen remarked; and then there was
    an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

    The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the White Queen, “I invite
    you to Alice’s dinner-party this afternoon.”

    The White Queen smiled feebly, and said “And I invite _you_.”

    “I didn’t know I was to have a party at all,” said Alice; “but if there
    is to be one, I think _I_ ought to invite the guests.”

    “We gave you the opportunity of doing it,” the Red Queen remarked: “but
    I daresay you’ve not had many lessons in manners yet?”

    “Manners are not taught in lessons,” said Alice. “Lessons teach you to
    do sums, and things of that sort.”

    “And you do Addition?” the White Queen asked. “What’s one and one and
    one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?”

    “I don’t know,” said Alice. “I lost count.”

    “She can’t do Addition,” the Red Queen interrupted. “Can you do
    Subtraction? Take nine from eight.”

    “Nine from eight I can’t, you know,” Alice replied very readily: “but—”

    “She can’t do Subtraction,” said the White Queen. “Can you do Division?
    Divide a loaf by a knife—what’s the answer to that?”

    “I suppose—” Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen answered for her.
    “Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a bone
    from a dog: what remains?”

    Alice considered. “The bone wouldn’t remain, of course, if I took
    it—and the dog wouldn’t remain; it would come to bite me—and I’m sure
    _I_ shouldn’t remain!”

    “Then you think nothing would remain?” said the Red Queen.

    “I think that’s the answer.”

    “Wrong, as usual,” said the Red Queen: “the dog’s temper would remain.”

    “But I don’t see how—”

    “Why, look here!” the Red Queen cried. “The dog would lose its temper,
    wouldn’t it?”

    “Perhaps it would,” Alice replied cautiously.

    “Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!” the Queen
    exclaimed triumphantly.

    Alice said, as gravely as she could, “They might go different ways.”
    But she couldn’t help thinking to herself, “What dreadful nonsense we
    _are_ talking!”

    “She can’t do sums a _bit_!” the Queens said together, with great
    emphasis.

    “Can _you_ do sums?” Alice said, turning suddenly on the White Queen,
    for she didn’t like being found fault with so much.

    The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. “I can do Addition, if you give me
    time—but I can’t do Subtraction, under _any_ circumstances!”

    “Of course you know your A B C?” said the Red Queen.

    “To be sure I do.” said Alice.

    “So do I,” the White Queen whispered: “we’ll often say it over
    together, dear. And I’ll tell you a secret—I can read words of one
    letter! Isn’t _that_ grand! However, don’t be discouraged. You’ll come
    to it in time.”

    Here the Red Queen began again. “Can you answer useful questions?” she
    said. “How is bread made?”

    “I know _that_!” Alice cried eagerly. “You take some flour—”

    “Where do you pick the flower?” the White Queen asked. “In a garden, or
    in the hedges?”

    “Well, it isn’t _picked_ at all,” Alice explained: “it’s _ground_—”

    “How many acres of ground?” said the White Queen. “You mustn’t leave
    out so many things.”

    “Fan her head!” the Red Queen anxiously interrupted. “She’ll be
    feverish after so much thinking.” So they set to work and fanned her
    with bunches of leaves, till she had to beg them to leave off, it blew
    her hair about so.

    “She’s all right again now,” said the Red Queen. “Do you know
    Languages? What’s the French for fiddle-de-dee?”

    “Fiddle-de-dee’s not English,” Alice replied gravely.

    “Who ever said it was?” said the Red Queen.

    Alice thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. “If you’ll
    tell me what language ‘fiddle-de-dee’ is, I’ll tell you the French for
    it!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

    But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said “Queens
    never make bargains.”

    “I wish Queens never asked questions,” Alice thought to herself.

    “Don’t let us quarrel,” the White Queen said in an anxious tone. “What
    is the cause of lightning?”

    “The cause of lightning,” Alice said very decidedly, for she felt quite
    certain about this, “is the thunder—no, no!” she hastily corrected
    herself. “I meant the other way.”

    “It’s too late to correct it,” said the Red Queen: “when you’ve once
    said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.”

    “Which reminds me—” the White Queen said, looking down and nervously
    clasping and unclasping her hands, “we had _such_ a thunderstorm last
    Tuesday—I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know.”

    Alice was puzzled. “In _our_ country,” she remarked, “there’s only one
    day at a time.”

    The Red Queen said, “That’s a poor thin way of doing things. Now
    _here_, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, and
    sometimes in the winter we take as many as five nights together—for
    warmth, you know.”

    “Are five nights warmer than one night, then?” Alice ventured to ask.

    “Five times as warm, of course.”

    “But they should be five times as _cold_, by the same rule—”

    “Just so!” cried the Red Queen. “Five times as warm, _and_ five times
    as cold—just as I’m five times as rich as you are, _and_ five times as
    clever!”

    Alice sighed and gave it up. “It’s exactly like a riddle with no
    answer!” she thought.

    “Humpty Dumpty saw it too,” the White Queen went on in a low voice,
    more as if she were talking to herself. “He came to the door with a
    corkscrew in his hand—”

    “What did he want?” said the Red Queen.

    “He said he _would_ come in,” the White Queen went on, “because he was
    looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn’t such a
    thing in the house, that morning.”

    “Is there generally?” Alice asked in an astonished tone.

    “Well, only on Thursdays,” said the Queen.

    “I know what he came for,” said Alice: “he wanted to punish the fish,
    because—”

    Here the White Queen began again. “It was _such_ a thunderstorm, you
    can’t think!” (“She _never_ could, you know,” said the Red Queen.) “And
    part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in—and it went
    rolling round the room in great lumps—and knocking over the tables and
    things—till I was so frightened, I couldn’t remember my own name!”

    Alice thought to herself, “I never should _try_ to remember my name in
    the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it?” but she did
    not say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen’s feeling.

    “Your Majesty must excuse her,” the Red Queen said to Alice, taking one
    of the White Queen’s hands in her own, and gently stroking it: “she
    means well, but she can’t help saying foolish things, as a general
    rule.”

    The White Queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she _ought_ to say
    something kind, but really couldn’t think of anything at the moment.

    “She never was really well brought up,” the Red Queen went on: “but
    it’s amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the head, and see how
    pleased she’ll be!” But this was more than Alice had courage to do.

    “A little kindness—and putting her hair in papers—would do wonders with
    her—”

    The White Queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on Alice’s
    shoulder. “I _am_ so sleepy!” she moaned.

    “She’s tired, poor thing!” said the Red Queen. “Smooth her hair—lend
    her your nightcap—and sing her a soothing lullaby.”

    “I haven’t got a nightcap with me,” said Alice, as she tried to obey
    the first direction: “and I don’t know any soothing lullabies.”

    “I must do it myself, then,” said the Red Queen, and she began:

    “Hush-a-by lady, in Alice’s lap!
    Till the feast’s ready, we’ve time for a nap:
    When the feast’s over, we’ll go to the ball—
    Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!

    “And now you know the words,” she added, as she put her head down on
    Alice’s other shoulder, “just sing it through to _me_. I’m getting
    sleepy, too.” In another moment both Queens were fast asleep, and
    snoring loud.

    “What _am_ I to do?” exclaimed Alice, looking about in great
    perplexity, as first one round head, and then the other, rolled down
    from her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. “I don’t think
    it _ever_ happened before, that any one had to take care of two Queens
    asleep at once! No, not in all the History of England—it couldn’t, you
    know, because there never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wake
    up, you heavy things!” she went on in an impatient tone; but there was
    no answer but a gentle snoring.

    The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more like a
    tune: at last she could even make out the words, and she listened so
    eagerly that, when the two great heads vanished from her lap, she
    hardly missed them.

    She was standing before an arched doorway over which were the words
    QUEEN ALICE in large letters, and on each side of the arch there was a
    bell-handle; one was marked “Visitors’ Bell,” and the other “Servants’
    Bell.”

    “I’ll wait till the song’s over,” thought Alice, “and then I’ll
    ring—the—_which_ bell must I ring?” she went on, very much puzzled by
    the names. “I’m not a visitor, and I’m not a servant. There _ought_ to
    be one marked ‘Queen,’ you know—”

    Just then the door opened a little way, and a creature with a long beak
    put its head out for a moment and said “No admittance till the week
    after next!” and shut the door again with a bang.

    Alice knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last, a very old
    Frog, who was sitting under a tree, got up and hobbled slowly towards
    her: he was dressed in bright yellow, and had enormous boots on.

    “What is it, now?” the Frog said in a deep hoarse whisper.

    Alice turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. “Where’s the
    servant whose business it is to answer the door?” she began angrily.

    “Which door?” said the Frog.

    Alice almost stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which he
    spoke. “_This_ door, of course!”

    The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute: then
    he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as if he were trying
    whether the paint would come off; then he looked at Alice.

    “To answer the door?” he said. “What’s it been asking of?” He was so
    hoarse that Alice could scarcely hear him.

    “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

    “I talks English, doesn’t I?” the Frog went on. “Or are you deaf? What
    did it ask you?”

    “Nothing!” Alice said impatiently. “I’ve been knocking at it!”

    “Shouldn’t do that—shouldn’t do that—” the Frog muttered. “Vexes it,
    you know.” Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one of his
    great feet. “You let _it_ alone,” he panted out, as he hobbled back to
    his tree, “and it’ll let _you_ alone, you know.”

    At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard
    singing:

    “To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said,
    ‘I’ve a sceptre in hand, I’ve a crown on my head;
    Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be,
    Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me.’”

    And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

    “Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
    And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
    Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea—
    And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!”

    Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to
    herself, “Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one’s
    counting?” In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill
    voice sang another verse;

    “‘O Looking-Glass creatures,’ quoth Alice, ‘draw near!
    ’Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
    ’Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
    Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!’”

    Then came the chorus again:—

    “Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
    Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
    Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine—
    And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!”

    “Ninety times nine!” Alice repeated in despair, “Oh, that’ll never be
    done! I’d better go in at once—” and there was a dead silence the
    moment she appeared.

    Alice glanced nervously along the table, as she walked up the large
    hall, and noticed that there were about fifty guests, of all kinds:
    some were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among
    them. “I’m glad they’ve come without waiting to be asked,” she thought:
    “I should never have known who were the right people to invite!”

    There were three chairs at the head of the table; the Red and White
    Queens had already taken two of them, but the middle one was empty.
    Alice sat down in it, rather uncomfortable in the silence, and longing
    for some one to speak.

    At last the Red Queen began. “You’ve missed the soup and fish,” she
    said. “Put on the joint!” And the waiters set a leg of mutton before
    Alice, who looked at it rather anxiously, as she had never had to carve
    a joint before.

    “You look a little shy; let me introduce you to that leg of mutton,”
    said the Red Queen. “Alice—Mutton; Mutton—Alice.” The leg of mutton got
    up in the dish and made a little bow to Alice; and Alice returned the
    bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.

    “May I give you a slice?” she said, taking up the knife and fork, and
    looking from one Queen to the other.

    “Certainly not,” the Red Queen said, very decidedly: “it isn’t
    etiquette to cut any one you’ve been introduced to. Remove the joint!”
    And the waiters carried it off, and brought a large plum-pudding in its
    place.

    “I won’t be introduced to the pudding, please,” Alice said rather
    hastily, “or we shall get no dinner at all. May I give you some?”

    But the Red Queen looked sulky, and growled “Pudding—Alice;
    Alice—Pudding. Remove the pudding!” and the waiters took it away so
    quickly that Alice couldn’t return its bow.

    However, she didn’t see why the Red Queen should be the only one to
    give orders, so, as an experiment, she called out “Waiter! Bring back
    the pudding!” and there it was again in a moment like a
    conjuring-trick. It was so large that she couldn’t help feeling a
    _little_ shy with it, as she had been with the mutton; however, she
    conquered her shyness by a great effort and cut a slice and handed it
    to the Red Queen.

    “What impertinence!” said the Pudding. “I wonder how you’d like it, if
    I were to cut a slice out of _you_, you creature!”

    It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Alice hadn’t a word to
    say in reply: she could only sit and look at it and gasp.

    “Make a remark,” said the Red Queen: “it’s ridiculous to leave all the
    conversation to the pudding!”

    “Do you know, I’ve had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me
    to-day,” Alice began, a little frightened at finding that, the moment
    she opened her lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixed
    upon her; “and it’s a very curious thing, I think—every poem was about
    fishes in some way. Do you know why they’re so fond of fishes, all
    about here?”

    She spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the mark.
    “As to fishes,” she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her mouth
    close to Alice’s ear, “her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle—all in
    poetry—all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?”

    “Her Red Majesty’s very kind to mention it,” the White Queen murmured
    into Alice’s other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. “It
    would be _such_ a treat! May I?”

    “Please do,” Alice said very politely.

    The White Queen laughed with delight, and stroked Alice’s cheek. Then
    she began:

    “‘First, the fish must be caught.’
    That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
    ‘Next, the fish must be bought.’
    That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.

    ‘Now cook me the fish!’
    That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
    ‘Let it lie in a dish!’
    That is easy, because it already is in it.

    ‘Bring it here! Let me sup!’
    It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
    ‘Take the dish-cover up!’
    Ah, that is so hard that I fear I’m unable!

    For it holds it like glue—
    Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
    Which is easiest to do,
    Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle?”

    “Take a minute to think about it, and then guess,” said the Red Queen.
    “Meanwhile, we’ll drink your health—Queen Alice’s health!” she screamed
    at the top of her voice, and all the guests began drinking it directly,
    and very queerly they managed it: some of them put their glasses upon
    their heads like extinguishers, and drank all that trickled down their
    faces—others upset the decanters, and drank the wine as it ran off the
    edges of the table—and three of them (who looked like kangaroos)
    scrambled into the dish of roast mutton, and began eagerly lapping up
    the gravy, “just like pigs in a trough!” thought Alice.

    “You ought to return thanks in a neat speech,” the Red Queen said,
    frowning at Alice as she spoke.

    “We must support you, you know,” the White Queen whispered, as Alice
    got up to do it, very obediently, but a little frightened.

    “Thank you very much,” she whispered in reply, “but I can do quite well
    without.”

    “That wouldn’t be at all the thing,” the Red Queen said very decidedly:
    so Alice tried to submit to it with a good grace.

    (“And they _did_ push so!” she said afterwards, when she was telling
    her sister the history of the feast. “You would have thought they
    wanted to squeeze me flat!”)

    In fact it was rather difficult for her to keep in her place while she
    made her speech: the two Queens pushed her so, one on each side, that
    they nearly lifted her up into the air: “I rise to return thanks—”
    Alice began: and she really _did_ rise as she spoke, several inches;
    but she got hold of the edge of the table, and managed to pull herself
    down again.

    “Take care of yourself!” screamed the White Queen, seizing Alice’s hair
    with both her hands. “Something’s going to happen!”

    And then (as Alice afterwards described it) all sorts of things
    happened in a moment. The candles all grew up to the ceiling, looking
    something like a bed of rushes with fireworks at the top. As to the
    bottles, they each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on
    as wings, and so, with forks for legs, went fluttering about in all
    directions: “and very like birds they look,” Alice thought to herself,
    as well as she could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning.

    At this moment she heard a hoarse laugh at her side, and turned to see
    what was the matter with the White Queen; but, instead of the Queen,
    there was the leg of mutton sitting in the chair. “Here I am!” cried a
    voice from the soup tureen, and Alice turned again, just in time to see
    the Queen’s broad good-natured face grinning at her for a moment over
    the edge of the tureen, before she disappeared into the soup.

    There was not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were
    lying down in the dishes, and the soup ladle was walking up the table
    towards Alice’s chair, and beckoning to her impatiently to get out of
    its way.

    “I can’t stand this any longer!” she cried as she jumped up and seized
    the table-cloth with both hands: one good pull, and plates, dishes,
    guests, and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the floor.

    “And as for _you_,” she went on, turning fiercely upon the Red Queen,
    whom she considered as the cause of all the mischief—but the Queen was
    no longer at her side—she had suddenly dwindled down to the size of a
    little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running round and round
    after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.

    At any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she was
    far too much excited to be surprised at anything _now_. “As for _you_,”
    she repeated, catching hold of the little creature in the very act of
    jumping over a bottle which had just lighted upon the table, “I’ll
    shake you into a kitten, that I will!”

    CHAPTER X.
    Shaking

    She took her off the table as she spoke, and shook her backwards and
    forwards with all her might.

    The Red Queen made no resistance whatever; only her face grew very
    small, and her eyes got large and green: and still, as Alice went on
    shaking her, she kept on growing shorter—and fatter—and softer—and
    rounder—and—

    CHAPTER XI.
    Waking

    —and it really _was_ a kitten, after all.

    CHAPTER XII.
    Which Dreamed it?

    “Your majesty shouldn’t purr so loud,” Alice said, rubbing her eyes,
    and addressing the kitten, respectfully, yet with some severity. “You
    woke me out of oh! such a nice dream! And you’ve been along with me,
    Kitty—all through the Looking-Glass world. Did you know it, dear?”

    It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the
    remark) that, whatever you say to them, they _always_ purr. “If they
    would only purr for ‘yes’ and mew for ‘no,’ or any rule of that sort,”
    she had said, “so that one could keep up a conversation! But how _can_
    you talk with a person if they always say the same thing?”

    On this occasion the kitten only purred: and it was impossible to guess
    whether it meant “yes” or “no.”

    So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till she had found the
    Red Queen: then she went down on her knees on the hearth-rug, and put
    the kitten and the Queen to look at each other. “Now, Kitty!” she
    cried, clapping her hands triumphantly. “Confess that was what you
    turned into!”

    (“But it wouldn’t look at it,” she said, when she was explaining the
    thing afterwards to her sister: “it turned away its head, and pretended
    not to see it: but it looked a _little_ ashamed of itself, so I think
    it _must_ have been the Red Queen.”)

    “Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!” Alice cried with a merry laugh.
    “And curtsey while you’re thinking what to—what to purr. It saves time,
    remember!” And she caught it up and gave it one little kiss, “just in
    honour of having been a Red Queen.”

    “Snowdrop, my pet!” she went on, looking over her shoulder at the White
    Kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, “when _will_
    Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That must be the
    reason you were so untidy in my dream—Dinah! do you know that you’re
    scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it’s most disrespectful of you!

    “And what did _Dinah_ turn to, I wonder?” she prattled on, as she
    settled comfortably down, with one elbow in the rug, and her chin in
    her hand, to watch the kittens. “Tell me, Dinah, did you turn to Humpty
    Dumpty? I _think_ you did—however, you’d better not mention it to your
    friends just yet, for I’m not sure.

    “By the way, Kitty, if only you’d been really with me in my dream,
    there was one thing you _would_ have enjoyed—I had such a quantity of
    poetry said to me, all about fishes! To-morrow morning you shall have a
    real treat. All the time you’re eating your breakfast, I’ll repeat ‘The
    Walrus and the Carpenter’ to you; and then you can make believe it’s
    oysters, dear!

    “Now, Kitty, let’s consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a
    serious question, my dear, and you should _not_ go on licking your paw
    like that—as if Dinah hadn’t washed you this morning! You see, Kitty,
    it _must_ have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream,
    of course—but then I was part of his dream, too! _Was_ it the Red King,
    Kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know—Oh, Kitty, _do_
    help to settle it! I’m sure your paw can wait!” But the provoking
    kitten only began on the other paw, and pretended it hadn’t heard the
    question.

    Which do _you_ think it was?

    A boat beneath a sunny sky,
    Lingering onward dreamily
    In an evening of July—

    Children three that nestle near,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Pleased a simple tale to hear—

    Long has paled that sunny sky:
    Echoes fade and memories die.
    Autumn frosts have slain July.

    Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
    Alice moving under skies
    Never seen by waking eyes.

    Children yet, the tale to hear,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Lovingly shall nestle near.

    In a Wonderland they lie,
    Dreaming as the days go by,
    Dreaming as the summers die:

    Ever drifting down the stream—
    Lingering in the golden gleam—
    Life, what is it but a dream?

    THE END

  • Three hundred Aesop’s fables

    Three hundred Aesop’s fables

    Aproximadamente 45.066 palavras.

    THREE HUNDRED
    ÆSOP’S FABLES

    LITERALLY TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK

    By the
    Rev. George Fyler Townsend, M.A.

    LONDON
    GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS

    THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE
    NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET

    CONTENTS

    PREFACE
    LIFE OF AESOP
    AESOP’S FABLES
    The Lion And The Mouse
    The Wolf And The Lamb
    The Ass And The Grasshopper
    The Wolf and the Crane
    The Father And His Sons
    The Bat And The Weasels
    The Cock and the Jewel
    The Swallow and the Crow
    The Kingdom of the Lion
    The Traveler and His Dog
    The Ants and the Grasshopper
    The Hare and the Tortoise
    The Charcoal-Burner And The Fuller
    The Boy Hunting Locusts
    The Fisherman Piping
    The Dog and the Shadow
    Hercules and the Wagoner
    The Mole and His Mother
    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull
    The Fawn and His Mother
    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion
    The Flies and the Honey-Pot
    The Lioness
    The Farmer and the Snake
    The Man and the Lion
    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble
    The Farmer and the Stork
    The Mountain in Labor
    The Bear and the Fox
    The Tortoise and the Eagle
    The Fox and the Goat
    The Raven and the Swan
    The Thirsty Pigeon
    The Dog in the Manger
    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees
    The Farmer and the Cranes
    The Sick Lion
    The Bear and the Two Travelers
    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail
    The Cat and the Cock
    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
    The Goat and the Goatherd
    The Boasting Traveler
    The Lion in Love
    The Miser
    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat
    The Boy and the Filberts
    The Frogs Asking for a King
    The Laborer and the Snake
    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox
    The Horse and Groom
    The Ass and the Mule
    The Ass and the Lapdog
    The Oxen and the Butchers
    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf
    The Boys and the Frogs
    The Salt Merchant and His Ass
    The Mischievous Dog
    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats
    The Man and His Two Sweethearts
    The Sick Stag
    The Boy and the Nettles
    The Astronomer
    The Wolves and the Sheep
    The Cat and the Birds
    The Vain Jackdaw
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Old Woman and the Physician
    The Ox and the Frog
    The Farmer and His Sons
    The Heifer and the Ox
    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle
    The Charger and the Miller
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Horse and His Rider
    The Belly and the Members
    The Widow and Her Little Maidens
    The Vine and the Goat
    Jupiter and the Monkey
    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons
    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat
    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice
    The Two Pots
    The Shepherd and the Wolf
    The Crab and Its Mother
    The Father and His Two Daughters
    The Thief and His Mother
    The Old Man and Death
    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble
    The Æthiop
    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk
    The Fisherman and His Nets
    The Wolf and the Sheep
    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar
    The Man Bitten by a Dog
    The Huntsman and the Fisherman
    The Fox and the Crow
    The Widow and the Sheep
    The Playful Ass
    The Stag in the Ox-Stall
    The Two Dogs
    The Wild Ass and the Lion
    The Lion and the Dolphin
    The Eagle and the Arrow
    The Sick Kite
    The Lion and the Boar
    The Mice in Council
    The One-Eyed Doe
    The Mice and the Weasels
    The Shepherd and the Sea
    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion
    The Rivers and the Sea
    The Wild Boar and the Fox
    The Milk-Woman and Her Pail
    The Bee and Jupiter
    The Wolf and the Housedog
    The Three Tradesmen
    The Ass Carrying the Image
    The Master and His Dogs
    The Old Hound
    The Two Travelers and the Axe
    The Old Lion
    The Wolf and the Shepherds
    The Seaside Travelers
    The Ass and His Shadow
    The Ass and His Masters
    Mercury and the Sculptor
    The Fox and the Woodcutter
    The Oak and the Reeds
    The Lion in a Farmyard
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock
    The Ant and the Dove
    The Hares and the Frogs
    The Monkey and the Fishermen
    The Swan and the Goose
    The Doe and the Lion
    The Fisherman and the Little Fish
    The Hunter and the Woodman
    The Swollen Fox
    The Two Frogs
    The Lamp
    The Camel and the Arab
    The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass
    The Cat and the Mice
    The Mouse and the Bull
    The Dog and the Cook
    The Thieves and the Cock
    The Dancing Monkeys
    The Farmer and the Fox
    The Traveler and Fortune
    The Seagull and the Kite
    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox
    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury
    The Peasant and the Eagle
    The Fox and the Leopard
    The Lion and the Hare
    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter
    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass
    The Bull and the Goat
    The Bald Knight
    The Oaks and Jupiter
    The Monkeys and Their Mother
    The Hare and the Hound
    The Shepherd and the Dog
    The Oak and the Woodcutters
    The Wasp and the Snake
    The Peacock and the Crane
    The Hen and the Golden Eggs
    The Ass and the Frogs
    The Crow and the Raven
    The Trees and the Axe
    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs
    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter
    The Bowman and Lion
    The Camel
    The Crab and the Fox
    The Ass and the Old Shepherd
    The Fox and the Hedgehog
    The Woman and Her Hen
    The Kites and the Swans
    The Dog and the Hare
    The Hares and the Foxes
    The Bull and the Calf
    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep
    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow
    The Wolf and the Fox
    The Mule
    The Prophet
    The Two Frogs
    The Serpent and the Eagle
    The Crow and the Pitcher
    The Thief and the Innkeeper
    The Hart and the Vine
    The Gnat and the Lion
    The Fox and the Grapes
    The Walnut-Tree
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Monkey and the Dolphin
    The Horse and the Stag
    The Jackdaw and the Doves
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Man and His Wife
    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog
    The Thief and the Housedog
    The Apes and the Two Travelers
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Weasel and the Mice
    The Boy Bathing
    The Peacock and Juno
    The Wolf and the Shepherd
    The Hares and the Lions
    The Seller of Images
    The Hawk and the Nightingale
    The Lark and Her Young Ones
    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox
    The Geese and the Cranes
    The Ass and the Wolf
    The Goat and the Ass
    The Lion and the Bull
    The Fox and the Mask
    The Grasshopper and the Owl
    The Fowler and the Viper
    The Horse and the Ass
    The Lion and the Three Bulls
    The Wolf and the Goat
    The Fly and the Draught-Mule
    The Fishermen
    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse
    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape
    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer
    The Brother and the Sister
    The Dogs and the Fox
    The Blind Man and the Whelp
    The Cobbler Turned Doctor
    The Wolf and the Horse
    The Two Men Who Were Enemies
    The Gamecocks and the Partridge
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Quack Frog
    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox
    The Dog’s House
    The North Wind and the Sun
    The Crow and Mercury
    The Fox and the Crane
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat
    The Spendthrift and the Swallow
    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner
    The Owl and the Birds
    The Goods and the Ills
    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin
    The Sparrow and the Hare
    The Flea and the Ox
    The Ass and His Purchaser
    The Dove and the Crow
    The Man and the Satyr
    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus
    The Eagle and the Jackdaw
    The Eagle and the Fox
    The Two Bags
    The Bitch and Her Whelps
    The Stag at the Pool
    The Lark Burying Her Father
    The Gnat and the Bull
    The Monkey and the Camel
    The Dogs and the Hides
    The Jackdaw and the Fox
    Mercury and the Workmen
    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree
    The Two Soldiers and the Robber
    The Shepherd and the Sheep
    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods
    The Flea and the Wrestler
    The Lion and the Fox
    Truth and the Traveler
    The Manslayer
    The Lion and the Eagle
    The Ass and His Driver
    The Thrush and the Fowler
    The Mother and the Wolf
    The Hen and the Swallow
    The Rose and the Amaranth
    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree
    The Ass and the Horse
    The Crow and the Sheep
    The Fox and the Bramble
    The Ass and the Charger
    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant
    The Dog and the Oyster
    The Mules and the Robbers
    The Lamb and the Wolf
    The Partridge and the Fowler
    The Flea and the Man
    The Rich Man and the Tanner
    The Viper and the File
    The Lion and the Shepherd
    The Camel and Jupiter
    The Panther and the Shepherds
    The Eagle and the Kite
    The Eagle and His Captor
    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion
    The Cat and Venus
    The Eagle and the Beetle
    The She-Goats and Their Beards
    The Bald Man and the Fly
    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea
    The Buffoon and the Countryman
    The Crow and the Serpent
    The Hunter and the Horseman
    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree
    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun
    The Brazier and His Dog
    FOOTNOTES
    INDEX

    PREFACE

    The Tale, the Parable, and the Fable are all common and popular modes
    of conveying instruction. Each is distinguished by its own special
    characteristics. The Tale consists simply in the narration of a story
    either founded on facts, or created solely by the imagination, and not
    necessarily associated with the teaching of any moral lesson. The
    Parable is the designed use of language purposely intended to convey a
    hidden and secret meaning other than that contained in the words
    themselves; and which may or may not bear a special reference to the
    hearer, or reader. The Fable partly agrees with, and partly differs
    from both of these. It will contain, like the Tale, a short but real
    narrative; it will seek, like the Parable, to convey a hidden meaning,
    and that not so much by the use of language, as by the skilful
    introduction of fictitious characters; and yet, unlike to either Tale
    or Parable, it will ever keep in view, as its high prerogative, and
    inseparable attribute, the great purpose of instruction, and will
    necessarily seek to inculcate some moral maxim, social duty, or
    political truth. The true Fable, if it rise to its high requirements,
    ever aims at one great end and purpose—the representation of human
    motive, and the improvement of human conduct, and yet it so conceals
    its design under the disguise of fictitious characters, by clothing
    with speech the animals of the field, the birds of the air, the trees
    of the wood, or the beasts of the forest, that the reader shall receive
    advice without perceiving the presence of the adviser. Thus the
    superiority of the counsellor, which often renders counsel unpalatable,
    is kept out of view, and the lesson comes with the greater acceptance
    when the reader is led, unconsciously to himself, to have his
    sympathies enlisted in behalf of what is pure, honourable, and
    praiseworthy, and to have his indignation excited against what is low,
    ignoble, and unworthy. The true fabulist, therefore, discharges a most
    important function. He is neither a narrator, nor an allegorist. He is
    a great teacher, a corrector of morals, a censor of vice, and a
    commender of virtue. In this consists the superiority of the Fable over
    the Tale or the Parable. The fabulist is to create a laugh, but yet,
    under a merry guise, to convey instruction. Phædrus, the great imitator
    of Æsop, plainly indicates this double purpose to be the true office of
    the writer of fables.

    Duplex libelli dos est: quod risum movet,
    Et quod prudenti vitam consilio monet.

    The continual observance of this twofold aim creates the charm, and
    accounts for the universal favour, of the fables of Æsop. “The fable,”
    says Professor K. O. Mueller, “originated in Greece in an intentional
    travestie of human affairs. The ‘ainos,’ as its name denotes, is an
    admonition, or rather a reproof, veiled, either from fear of an excess
    of frankness, or from a love of fun and jest, beneath the fiction of an
    occurrence happening among beasts; and wherever we have any ancient and
    authentic account of the Æsopian fables, we find it to be the same.”[1]

    The construction of a fable involves a minute attention to (1), the
    narration itself; (2), the deduction of the moral; and (3), a careful
    maintenance of the individual characteristics of the fictitious
    personages introduced into it. The narration should relate to one
    simple action, consistent with itself, and neither be overladen with a
    multiplicity of details, nor distracted by a variety of circumstances.
    The moral or lesson should be so plain, and so intimately interwoven
    with, and so necessarily dependent on, the narration, that every reader
    should be compelled to give to it the same undeniable interpretation.
    The introduction of the animals or fictitious characters should be
    marked with an unexceptionable care and attention to their natural
    attributes, and to the qualities attributed to them by universal
    popular consent. The Fox should be always cunning, the Hare timid, the
    Lion bold, the Wolf cruel, the Bull strong, the Horse proud, and the
    Ass patient. Many of these fables are characterized by the strictest
    observance of these rules. They are occupied with one short narrative,
    from which the moral naturally flows, and with which it is intimately
    associated. “’Tis the simple manner,” says Dodsley,[2] “in which the
    morals of Æsop are interwoven with his fables that distinguishes him,
    and gives him the preference over all other mythologists. His ‘Mountain
    delivered of a Mouse,’ produces the moral of his fable in ridicule of
    pompous pretenders; and his Crow, when she drops her cheese, lets fall,
    as it were by accident, the strongest admonition against the power of
    flattery. There is no need of a separate sentence to explain it; no
    possibility of impressing it deeper, by that load we too often see of
    accumulated reflections.”[3] An equal amount of praise is due for the
    consistency with which the characters of the animals, fictitiously
    introduced, are marked. While they are made to depict the motives and
    passions of men, they retain, in an eminent degree, their own special
    features of craft or counsel, of cowardice or courage, of generosity or
    rapacity.

    These terms of praise, it must be confessed, cannot be bestowed on all
    the fables in this collection. Many of them lack that unity of design,
    that close connection of the moral with the narrative, that wise choice
    in the introduction of the animals, which constitute the charm and
    excellency of true Æsopian fable. This inferiority of some to others is
    sufficiently accounted for in the history of the origin and descent of
    these fables. The great bulk of them are not the immediate work of
    Æsop. Many are obtained from ancient authors prior to the time in which
    he lived. Thus, the fable of the “Hawk and the Nightingale” is related
    by Hesiod;[4] the “Eagle wounded by an Arrow, winged with its own
    feathers,” by Æschylus;[5] the “Fox avenging his wrongs on the Eagle,”
    by Archilochus.[6] Many of them again are of later origin, and are to
    be traced to the monks of the middle ages: and yet this collection,
    though thus made up of fables both earlier and later than the era of
    Æsop, rightfully bears his name, because he composed so large a number
    (all framed in the same mould, and conformed to the same fashion, and
    stamped with the same lineaments, image, and superscription) as to
    secure to himself the right to be considered the father of Greek
    fables, and the founder of this class of writing, which has ever since
    borne his name, and has secured for him, through all succeeding ages,
    the position of the first of moralists.[7]

    The fables were in the first instance only narrated by Æsop, and for a
    long time were handed down by the uncertain channel of oral tradition.
    Socrates is mentioned by Plato[8] as having employed his time while in
    prison, awaiting the return of the sacred ship from Delphos which was
    to be the signal of his death, in turning some of these fables into
    verse, but he thus versified only such as he remembered. Demetrius
    Phalereus, a philosopher at Athens about 300 B.C., is said to have made
    the first collection of these fables. Phædrus, a slave by birth or by
    subsequent misfortunes, and admitted by Augustus to the honours of a
    freedman, imitated many of these fables in Latin iambics about the
    commencement of the Christian era. Aphthonius, a rhetorician of
    Antioch, A.D. 315, wrote a treatise on, and converted into Latin prose,
    some of these fables. This translation is the more worthy of notice, as
    it illustrates a custom of common use, both in these and in later
    times. The rhetoricians and philosophers were accustomed to give the
    Fables of Æsop as an exercise to their scholars, not only inviting them
    to discuss the moral of the tale, but also to practice and to perfect
    themselves thereby in style and rules of grammar, by making for
    themselves new and various versions of the fables. Ausonius,[9] the
    friend of the Emperor Valentinian, and the latest poet of eminence in
    the Western Empire, has handed down some of these fables in verse,
    which Julianus Titianus, a contemporary writer of no great name,
    translated into prose. Avienus, also a contemporary of Ausonius, put
    some of these fables into Latin elegiacs, which are given by Nevelet
    (in a book we shall refer to hereafter), and are occasionally
    incorporated with the editions of Phædrus.

    Seven centuries elapsed before the next notice is found of the Fables
    of Æsop. During this long period these fables seem to have suffered an
    eclipse, to have disappeared and to have been forgotten; and it is at
    the commencement of the fourteenth century, when the Byzantine emperors
    were the great patrons of learning, and amidst the splendors of an
    Asiatic court, that we next find honours paid to the name and memory of
    Æsop. Maximus Planudes, a learned monk of Constantinople, made a
    collection of about a hundred and fifty of these fables. Little is
    known of his history. Planudes, however, was no mere recluse, shut up
    in his monastery. He took an active part in public affairs. In 1327
    A.D. he was sent on a diplomatic mission to Venice by the Emperor
    Andronicus the Elder. This brought him into immediate contact with the
    Western Patriarch, whose interests he henceforth advocated with so much
    zeal as to bring on him suspicion and persecution from the rulers of
    the Eastern Church. Planudes has been exposed to a two-fold accusation.
    He is charged on the one hand with having had before him a copy of
    Babrias (to whom we shall have occasion to refer at greater length in
    the end of this Preface), and to have had the bad taste “to transpose,”
    or to turn his poetical version into prose: and he is asserted, on the
    other hand, never to have seen the Fables of Æsop at all, but to have
    himself invented and made the fables which he palmed off under the name
    of the famous Greek fabulist. The truth lies between these two
    extremes. Planudes may have invented some few fables, or have inserted
    some that were current in his day; but there is an abundance of
    unanswerable internal evidence to prove that he had an acquaintance
    with the veritable fables of Æsop, although the versions he had access
    to were probably corrupt, as contained in the various translations and
    disquisitional exercises of the rhetoricians and philosophers. His
    collection is interesting and important, not only as the parent source
    or foundation of the earlier printed versions of Æsop, but as the
    direct channel of attracting to these fables the attention of the
    learned.

    The eventual re-introduction, however, of these Fables of Æsop to their
    high place in the general literature of Christendom, is to be looked
    for in the West rather than in the East. The calamities gradually
    thickening round the Eastern Empire, and the fall of Constantinople,
    1453 A.D. combined with other events to promote the rapid restoration
    of learning in Italy; and with that recovery of learning the revival of
    an interest in the Fables of Æsop is closely identified. These fables,
    indeed, were among the first writings of an earlier antiquity that
    attracted attention. They took their place beside the Holy Scriptures
    and the ancient classic authors, in the minds of the great students of
    that day. Lorenzo Valla, one of the most famous promoters of Italian
    learning, not only translated into Latin the Iliad of Homer and the
    Histories of Herodotus and Thucydides, but also the Fables of Æsop.

    These fables, again, were among the books brought into an extended
    circulation by the agency of the printing press. Bonus Accursius, as
    early as 1475–1480, printed the collection of these fables, made by
    Planudes, which, within five years afterwards, Caxton translated into
    English, and printed at his press in Westminster Abbey, 1485.[10] It
    must be mentioned also that the learning of this age has left permanent
    traces of its influence on these fables,[11] by causing the
    interpolation with them (as a κτῆμα εἰς ἰει) of some of those amusing
    stories which were so frequently introduced into the public discourses
    of the great preachers of those days, and of which specimens are yet to
    be found in the extant sermons of Jean Raulin, Meffreth, and Gabriel
    Barlette.[12] The publication of this era which most probably has
    influenced these fables, is the “Liber Facetiarum,”[13] a book
    consisting of a hundred jests and stories, by the celebrated Poggio
    Bracciolini, published A.D. 1471, from which the two fables of the
    “Miller, his Son, and the Ass,” and the “Fox and the Woodcutter,” are
    undoubtedly selected.

    The knowledge of these fables rapidly spread from Italy into Germany,
    and their popularity was increased by the favour and sanction given to
    them by the great fathers of the Reformation, who frequently used them
    as vehicles for satire and protest against the tricks and abuses of the
    Romish ecclesiastics. The zealous and renowned Camerarius, who took an
    active part in the preparation of the Confession of Augsburgh, found
    time, amidst his numerous avocations, to prepare a version for the
    students in the University of Tübingen, in which he was a professor.
    Martin Luther translated twenty of these fables, and was urged by
    Melancthon to complete the whole; while Gottfried Arnold, the
    celebrated Lutheran theologian, and librarian to Frederick I., king of
    Prussia, mentions that the great Reformer valued the Fables of Æsop
    next after the Holy Scriptures. In 1546 A.D. the second printed edition
    of the collection of the Fables made by Planudes, was issued from the
    printing-press of Robert Stephens, in which were inserted some
    additional fables from a MS. in the Bibliothêque du Roy at Paris.

    The greatest advance, however, towards a re-introduction of the Fables
    of Æsop to a place in the literature of the world, was made in the
    early part of the seventeenth century. In the year 1610, a learned
    Swiss, Isaac Nicholas Nevelet, sent forth the third printed edition of
    these fables, in a work entitled “Mythologia Æsopica.” This was a noble
    effort to do honour to the great fabulist, and was the most perfect
    collection of Æsopian fables ever yet published. It consisted, in
    addition to the collection of fables given by Planudes and reprinted in
    the various earlier editions, of one hundred and thirty-six new fables
    (never before published) from MSS. in the Library of the Vatican, of
    forty fables attributed to Aphthonius, and of forty-three from Babrias.
    It also contained the Latin versions of the same fables by Phædrus,
    Avienus, and other authors. This volume of Nevelet forms a complete
    “Corpus Fabularum Æsopicarum;” and to his labours Æsop owes his
    restoration to universal favour as one of the wise moralists and great
    teachers of mankind. During the interval of three centuries which has
    elapsed since the publication of this volume of Nevelet’s, no book,
    with the exception of the Holy Scriptures, has had a wider circulation
    than Æsop’s Fables. They have been translated into the greater number
    of the languages both of Europe and of the East, and have been read,
    and will be read, for generations, alike by Jew, Heathen, Mohammedan,
    and Christian. They are, at the present time, not only engrafted into
    the literature of the civilized world, but are familiar as household
    words in the common intercourse and daily conversation of the
    inhabitants of all countries.

    This collection of Nevelet’s is the great culminating point in the
    history of the revival of the fame and reputation of Æsopian Fables. It
    is remarkable, also, as containing in its preface the germ of an idea,
    which has been since proved to have been correct by a strange chain of
    circumstances. Nevelet intimates an opinion, that a writer named
    Babrias would be found to be the veritable author of the existing form
    of Æsopian Fables. This intimation has since given rise to a series of
    inquiries, the knowledge of which is necessary, in the present day, to
    a full understanding of the true position of Æsop in connection with
    the writings that bear his name.

    The history of Babrias is so strange and interesting, that it might not
    unfitly be enumerated among the curiosities of literature. He is
    generally supposed to have been a Greek of Asia Minor, of one of the
    Ionic Colonies, but the exact period in which he lived and wrote is yet
    unsettled. He is placed, by one critic,[14] as far back as the
    institution of the Achaian League, B.C. 250; by another as late as the
    Emperor Severus, who died A.D. 235; while others make him a
    contemporary with Phædrus in the time of Augustus. At whatever time he
    wrote his version of Æsop, by some strange accident it seems to have
    entirely disappeared, and to have been lost sight of. His name is
    mentioned by Avienus; by Suidas, a celebrated critic, at the close of
    the eleventh century, who gives in his lexicon several isolated verses
    of his version of the fables; and by John Tzetzes, a grammarian and
    poet of Constantinople, who lived during the latter half of the twelfth
    century. Nevelet, in the preface to the volume which we have described,
    points out that the Fables of Planudes could not be the work of Æsop,
    as they contain a reference in two places to “Holy monks,” and give a
    verse from the Epistle of St. James as an “Epimith” to one of the
    fables, and suggests Babrias as their author. Francis Vavassor,[15] a
    learned French jesuit, entered at greater length on this subject, and
    produced further proofs from internal evidence, from the use of the
    word Piræus in describing the harbour of Athens, a name which was not
    given till two hundred years after Æsop, and from the introduction of
    other modern words, that many of these fables must have been at least
    committed to writing posterior to the time of Æsop, and more boldly
    suggests Babrias as their author or collector.[16] These various
    references to Babrias induced Dr. Richard Bentley, at the close of the
    seventeenth century, to examine more minutely the existing versions of
    Æsop’s Fables, and he maintained that many of them could, with a slight
    change of words, be resolved into the Scazonic[17] iambics, in which
    Babrias is known to have written: and, with a greater freedom than the
    evidence then justified, he put forth, in behalf of Babrias, a claim to
    the exclusive authorship of these fables. Such a seemingly extravagant
    theory, thus roundly asserted, excited much opposition. Dr. Bentley[18]
    met with an able antagonist in a member of the University of Oxford,
    the Hon. Mr. Charles Boyle,[19] afterwards Earl of Orrery. Their
    letters and disputations on this subject, enlivened on both sides with
    much wit and learning, will ever bear a conspicuous place in the
    literary history of the seventeenth century. The arguments of Dr.
    Bentley were yet further defended a few years later by Mr. Thomas
    Tyrwhitt, a well-read scholar, who gave up high civil distinctions that
    he might devote himself the more unreservedly to literary pursuits. Mr.
    Tyrwhitt published, A.D. 1776, a Dissertation on Babrias, and a
    collection of his fables in choliambic metre found in a MS. in the
    Bodleian Library at Oxford. Francesco de Furia, a learned Italian,
    contributed further testimony to the correctness of the supposition
    that Babrias had made a veritable collection of fables by printing from
    a MS. contained in the Vatican library several fables never before
    published. In the year 1844, however, new and unexpected light was
    thrown upon this subject. A veritable copy of Babrias was found in a
    manner as singular as were the MSS. of Quinctilian’s Institutes, and of
    Cicero’s Orations by Poggio in the monastery of St. Gall A.D. 1416. M.
    Menoides, at the suggestion of M. Villemain, Minister of Public
    Instruction to King Louis Philippe, had been entrusted with a
    commission to search for ancient MSS., and in carrying out his
    instructions he found a MS. at the convent of St. Laura, on Mount
    Athos, which proved to be a copy of the long suspected and wished-for
    choliambic version of Babrias. This MS. was found to be divided into
    two books, the one containing a hundred and twenty-five, and the other
    ninety-five fables. This discovery attracted very general attention,
    not only as confirming, in a singular manner, the conjectures so boldly
    made by a long chain of critics, but as bringing to light valuable
    literary treasures tending to establish the reputation, and to confirm
    the antiquity and authenticity of the great mass of Æsopian Fable. The
    Fables thus recovered were soon published. They found a most worthy
    editor in the late distinguished Sir George Cornewall Lewis, and a
    translator equally qualified for his task, in the Reverend James
    Davies, M.A., sometime a scholar of Lincoln College, Oxford, and
    himself a relation of their English editor. Thus, after an eclipse of
    many centuries, Babrias shines out as the earliest, and most reliable
    collector of veritable Æsopian Fables.

    Having thus given a complete synopsis of the origin, descent, and
    history of these fables, it only remains to explain the reasons which
    have induced the Publishers to prepare a new edition of Æsop, and to
    state the grounds on which they hope to establish a claim for support
    and public approval in their undertaking. They boldly assert that the
    new light thrown upon these fables by the discovery of the metrical
    version by Babrias, renders a new translation an inevitable necessity.
    The two chief existing English versions of Æsop are those by Archdeacon
    Croxall, and by the late Rev. Thomas James, canon of Peterborough. The
    first of these deviates so very far from the text, that it degenerates
    into a parody. The fables are so padded, diluted, and altered, as to
    give very little idea to the reader either of the terseness or the
    meaning of the original. The second of these is an improvement on its
    predecessor, but Mr. James, either out of compliance with the wishes of
    the publishers, or in condescension to the taste prevalent some twenty
    years ago, has so freely introduced as the point of the fable
    conventional English sayings which are not sanctioned by the Greek, and
    which in many instances are scarcely equivalent to it, that his version
    frequently approaches a paraphrase rather than a translation.

    The Publishers therefore ground their first claim for public approval
    on the necessity of a new translation. They trust further that their
    present work will have met that necessity in a satisfactory manner.
    They have sought to give as nearly a literal translation as possible of
    the Greek text; and they hope that if the reader should miss the
    smoothness and thoroughly English tone which characterized the previous
    version of these fables, he will be more than repaid by gaining a
    nearer approach to the spirit, thoughts, and (in some cases) to the
    epigrammatic terseness of the original. The Publishers trust to
    vindicate, on another ground, their claims to a share of public
    patronage. They have inserted a hundred new fables, and they have the
    satisfaction of knowing that this edition, on which they have spared no
    pains nor cost, will afford a larger choice, and greater variety, to
    the numerous and increasing circle of the admirers of Æsopian Fables.
    Whatever be the result of their labours, they will be content to have
    contributed towards promoting a wider acquaintance with fables, the
    wisdom, excellency, and wonderful suitableness of which to every
    condition of humanity has been attested and confirmed by the experience
    of so many generations; and which in all ages, amidst the ever changing
    fluctuations of human opinion, are adapted alike to amuse the young,
    and to instruct the thoughtful, and are well fitted to teach all who
    study them lessons useful for their guidance in every position of
    political, social, civil, or domestic life.

    The Editor must claim the privilege of adding a few words on a matter
    personal to himself. He has already within the last few months been
    connected with one edition of Æsop, and it may seem strange that he
    should be willing to undertake the superintendence of another. His
    answer is, that the two works on which he has been engaged were totally
    distinct, and entirely independent of each other. The first was a
    request to furnish new morals and applications to a definite number of
    fables; Ihe other was a commission to add a large number of additional
    fables and to make a wholly new translation. The necessity of a new and
    improved translation the Editor then recognized, and would have
    willingly undertaken. It was a wish he had much at heart, and when the
    proposal was voluntarily made to him by the present Publishers, to
    undertake the task of a new translation of an enlarged number of Æsop’s
    Fables, he saw no reason for refusing the offer because of his prior
    discharge of a totally different design; and he resolved to comply with
    the request submitted to him, and to do his best towards the attainment
    of so desirable an object as a purer translation and more literal
    rendering of fables so justly celebrated.

    The following are the sources from which the present translation has
    been prepared:—

    Babrii Fabulæ Æsopeæ. George Cornewall Lewis. Oxford, 1846.

    Babrii Fabulæ Æsopeæ. E codice manuscripto partem secundam edidit.
    George Cornewall Lewis. London: Parker, 1857.

    Mythologica Æsopica. Opera et studia Isaaci Nicholai Neveleti.
    Frankfort, 1610.

    Fabulæ Æsopiacæ, quales ante Planudem ferebantur cura et studio
    Francisci de Furia. Lipsiæ, 1810.

    Αἰσωπεὶων Μυθῶν Συναγωγή. Ex recognitione Caroli Halmii. Lipsiæ, 1851

    Phædri Fabulæ Esopiæ. Delphin Classics. 1822.

    GEORGE FYLER TOWNSEND

    LIFE OF AESOP

    The Life and History of Æsop is involved, like that of Homer, the most
    famous of Greek poets, in much obscurity. Sardis, the capital of Lydia;
    Samos, a Greek island; Mesembria, an ancient colony in Thrace; and
    Cotiæum, the chief city of a province of Phrygia, contend for the
    distinction of being the birthplace of Æsop. Although the honour thus
    claimed cannot be definitely assigned to any one of these places, yet
    there are a few incidents now generally accepted by scholars as
    established facts, relating to the birth, life, and death of Æsop. He
    is, by an almost universal consent, allowed to have been born about the
    year 620 B.C., and to have been by birth a slave. He was owned by two
    masters in succession, both inhabitants of Samos, Xanthus and Jadmon,
    the latter of whom gave him his liberty as a reward for his learning
    and wit. One of the privileges of a freedman in the ancient republics
    of Greece, was the permission to take an active interest in public
    affairs; and Æsop, like the philosophers Phædo, Menippus, and
    Epictetus, in later times, raised himself from the indignity of a
    servile condition to a position of high renown. In his desire alike to
    instruct and to be instructed, he travelled through many countries, and
    among others came to Sardis, the capital of the famous king of Lydia,
    the great patron, in that day, of learning and of learned men. He met
    at the court of Crœsus with Solon, Thales, and other sages, and is
    related so to have pleased his royal master by the part he took in the
    conversations held with these philosophers, that he applied to him an
    expression which has since passed into a proverb, “μᾶλλον ὁ Φρύξ.” “The
    Phrygian has spoken better than all.”

    On the invitation of Crœsus he fixed his residence at Sardis, and was
    employed by that monarch in various difficult and delicate affairs of
    State. In his discharge of these commissions he visited the different
    petty republics of Greece. At one time he is found in Corinth, and at
    another in Athens, endeavouring, by the narration of some of his wise
    fables, to reconcile the inhabitants of those cities to the
    administration of their respective rulers Periander and Pisistratus.
    One of these ambassadorial missions, undertaken at the command of
    Crœsus, was the occasion of his death. Having been sent to Delphi with
    a large sum of gold for distribution among the citizens, he was so
    provoked at their covetousness that he refused to divide the money, and
    sent it back to his master. The Delphians, enraged at this treatment,
    accused him of impiety, and, in spite of his sacred character as
    ambassador, executed him as a public criminal. This cruel death of Æsop
    was not unavenged. The citizens of Delphi were visited with a series of
    calamities, until they made a public reparation of their crime; and,
    “The blood of Æsop” became a well-known adage, bearing witness to the
    truth that deeds of wrong would not pass unpunished. Neither did the
    great fabulist lack posthumous honours; for a statue was erected to his
    memory at Athens, the work of Lysippus, one of the most famous of Greek
    sculptors. Phædrus thus immortalizes the event:—

    Æsopo ingentem statuam posuere Attici,
    Servumque collocarunt æternâ in basi:
    Patere honoris scirent ut cuncti viam;
    Nec generi tribui sed virtuti gloriam.

    These few facts are all that can be relied on with any degree of
    certainty, in reference to the birth, life, and death of Æsop. They
    were first brought to light, after a patient search and diligent
    perusal of ancient authors, by a Frenchman, M. Claude Gaspard Bachet de
    Mezeriac, who declined the honour of being tutor to Louis XIII. of
    France, from his desire to devote himself exclusively to literature. He
    published his Life of Æsop, Anno Domini 1632. The later investigations
    of a host of English and German scholars have added very little to the
    facts given by M. Mezeriac. The substantial truth of his statements has
    been confirmed by later criticism and inquiry. It remains to state,
    that prior to this publication of M. Mezeriac, the life of Æsop was
    from the pen of Maximus Planudes, a monk of Constantinople, who was
    sent on an embassy to Venice by the Byzantine Emperor Andronicus the
    elder, and who wrote in the early part of the fourteenth century. His
    life was prefixed to all the early editions of these fables, and was
    republished as late as 1727 by Archdeacon Croxall as the introduction
    to his edition of Æsop. This life by Planudes contains, however, so
    small an amount of truth, and is so full of absurd pictures of the
    grotesque deformity of Æsop, of wondrous apocryphal stories, of lying
    legends, and gross anachronisms, that it is now universally condemned
    as false, puerile, and unauthentic.[20] It is given up in the present
    day, by general consent, as unworthy of the slightest credit.

    AESOP’S FABLES

    The Lion And The Mouse

    A LION was awakened from sleep by a Mouse running over his face. Rising
    up angrily, he caught him and was about to kill him, when the Mouse
    piteously entreated, saying: “If you would only spare my life, I would
    be sure to repay your kindness.” The Lion laughed and let him go. It
    happened shortly after this that the Lion was caught by some hunters,
    who bound him by strong ropes to the ground. The Mouse, recognizing his
    roar, came and gnawed the rope with his teeth, and set him free,
    exclaiming:

    “You ridiculed the idea of my ever being able to help you, not
    expecting to receive from me any repayment of your favour; now you know
    that it is possible for even a Mouse to confer benefits on a Lion.”

    The Wolf And The Lamb

    WOLF, meeting with a Lamb astray from the fold, resolved not to lay
    violent hands on him, but to find some plea to justify to the Lamb the
    Wolf’s right to eat him. He thus addressed him: “Sirrah, last year you
    grossly insulted me.” “Indeed,” bleated the Lamb in a mournful tone of
    voice, “I was not then born.” Then said the Wolf, “You feed in my
    pasture.” “No, good sir,” replied the Lamb, “I have not yet tasted
    grass.” Again said the Wolf, “You drink of my well.” “No,” exclaimed
    the Lamb, “I never yet drank water, for as yet my mother’s milk is both
    food and drink to me.” Upon which the Wolf seized him and ate him up,
    saying, “Well! I won’t remain supperless, even though you refute every
    one of my imputations.” The tyrant will always find a pretext for his
    tyranny.

    The Ass And The Grasshopper

    AN ASS having heard some Grasshoppers chirping, was highly enchanted;
    and, desiring to possess the same charms of melody, demanded what sort
    of food they lived on to give them such beautiful voices. They replied,
    “The dew.” The Ass resolved that he would live only upon dew, and in a
    short time died of hunger.

    The Wolf and the Crane

    A WOLF who had a bone stuck in his throat hired a Crane, for a large
    sum, to put her head into his mouth and draw out the bone. When the
    Crane had extracted the bone and demanded the promised payment, the
    Wolf, grinning and grinding his teeth, exclaimed: “Why, you have surely
    already had a sufficient recompense, in having been permitted to draw
    out your head in safety from the mouth and jaws of a wolf.”

    In serving the wicked, expect no reward, and be thankful if you escape
    injury for your pains.

    The Father And His Sons

    A FATHER had a family of sons who were perpetually quarreling among
    themselves. When he failed to heal their disputes by his exhortations,
    he determined to give them a practical illustration of the evils of
    disunion; and for this purpose he one day told them to bring him a
    bundle of sticks. When they had done so, he placed the faggot into the
    hands of each of them in succession, and ordered them to break it in
    pieces. They tried with all their strength, and were not able to do it.
    He next opened the faggot, took the sticks separately, one by one, and
    again put them into his sons’ hands, upon which they broke them easily.
    He then addressed them in these words: “My sons, if you are of one
    mind, and unite to assist each other, you will be as this faggot,
    uninjured by all the attempts of your enemies; but if you are divided
    among yourselves, you will be broken as easily as these sticks.”

    The Bat And The Weasels

    A BAT who fell upon the ground and was caught by a Weasel pleaded to be
    spared his life. The Weasel refused, saying that he was by nature the
    enemy of all birds. The Bat assured him that he was not a bird, but a
    mouse, and thus was set free. Shortly afterwards the Bat again fell to
    the ground and was caught by another Weasel, whom he likewise entreated
    not to eat him. The Weasel said that he had a special hostility to
    mice. The Bat assured him that he was not a mouse, but a bat, and thus
    a second time escaped.

    It is wise to turn circumstances to good account.

    The Cock and the Jewel

    A COCK, scratching for food for himself and his hens, found a precious
    stone and exclaimed: “If your owner had found thee, and not I, he would
    have taken thee up, and have set thee in thy first estate; but I have
    found thee for no purpose. I would rather have one barleycorn than all
    the jewels in the world.”

    The Swallow and the Crow

    THE SWALLOW and the Crow had a contention about their plumage. The Crow
    put an end to the dispute by saying, “Your feathers are all very well
    in the spring, but mine protect me against the winter.”

    Fair weather friends are not worth much.

    The Kingdom of the Lion

    THE BEASTS of the field and forest had a Lion as their king. He was
    neither wrathful, cruel, nor tyrannical, but just and gentle as a king
    could be. During his reign he made a royal proclamation for a general
    assembly of all the birds and beasts, and drew up conditions for a
    universal league, in which the Wolf and the Lamb, the Panther and the
    Kid, the Tiger and the Stag, the Dog and the Hare, should live together
    in perfect peace and amity. The Hare said, “Oh, how I have longed to
    see this day, in which the weak shall take their place with impunity by
    the side of the strong.” And after the Hare said this, he ran for his
    life.

    The Traveler and His Dog

    A TRAVELER about to set out on a journey saw his Dog stand at the door
    stretching himself. He asked him sharply: “Why do you stand there
    gaping? Everything is ready but you, so come with me instantly.” The
    Dog, wagging his tail, replied: “O, master! I am quite ready; it is you
    for whom I am waiting.”

    The loiterer often blames delay on his more active friend.

    The Ants and the Grasshopper

    THE ANTS were spending a fine winter’s day drying grain collected in
    the summertime. A Grasshopper, perishing with famine, passed by and
    earnestly begged for a little food. The Ants inquired of him, “Why did
    you not treasure up food during the summer?” He replied, “I had not
    leisure enough. I passed the days in singing.” They then said in
    derision: “If you were foolish enough to sing all the summer, you must
    dance supperless to bed in the winter.”

    The Hare and the Tortoise

    A HARE one day ridiculed the short feet and slow pace of the Tortoise,
    who replied, laughing: “Though you be swift as the wind, I will beat
    you in a race.” The Hare, believing her assertion to be simply
    impossible, assented to the proposal; and they agreed that the Fox
    should choose the course and fix the goal. On the day appointed for the
    race the two started together. The Tortoise never for a moment stopped,
    but went on with a slow but steady pace straight to the end of the
    course. The Hare, lying down by the wayside, fell fast asleep. At last
    waking up, and moving as fast as he could, he saw the Tortoise had
    reached the goal, and was comfortably dozing after her fatigue.

    Slow but steady wins the race.

    The Charcoal-Burner And The Fuller

    A CHARCOAL-BURNER carried on his trade in his own house. One day he met
    a friend, a Fuller, and entreated him to come and live with him, saying
    that they should be far better neighbors and that their housekeeping
    expenses would be lessened. The Fuller replied, “The arrangement is
    impossible as far as I am concerned, for whatever I should whiten, you
    would immediately blacken again with your charcoal.”

    Like will draw like.

    The Boy Hunting Locusts

    A BOY was hunting for locusts. He had caught a goodly number, when he
    saw a Scorpion, and mistaking him for a locust, reached out his hand to
    take him. The Scorpion, showing his sting, said: “If you had but
    touched me, my friend, you would have lost me, and all your locusts
    too!”

    The Fisherman Piping

    A FISHERMAN skilled in music took his flute and his nets to the
    seashore. Standing on a projecting rock, he played several tunes in the
    hope that the fish, attracted by his melody, would of their own accord
    dance into his net, which he had placed below. At last, having long
    waited in vain, he laid aside his flute, and casting his net into the
    sea, made an excellent haul of fish. When he saw them leaping about in
    the net upon the rock he said: “O you most perverse creatures, when I
    piped you would not dance, but now that I have ceased you do so
    merrily.”

    The Dog and the Shadow

    A DOG, crossing a bridge over a stream with a piece of flesh in his
    mouth, saw his own shadow in the water and took it for that of another
    Dog, with a piece of meat double his own in size. He immediately let go
    of his own, and fiercely attacked the other Dog to get his larger piece
    from him. He thus lost both: that which he grasped at in the water,
    because it was a shadow; and his own, because the stream swept it away.

    Hercules and the Wagoner

    A CARTER was driving a wagon along a country lane, when the wheels sank
    down deep into a rut. The rustic driver, stupefied and aghast, stood
    looking at the wagon, and did nothing but utter loud cries to Hercules
    to come and help him. Hercules, it is said, appeared and thus addressed
    him: “Put your shoulders to the wheels, my man. Goad on your bullocks,
    and never more pray to me for help, until you have done your best to
    help yourself, or depend upon it you will henceforth pray in vain.”

    Self-help is the best help.

    The Mole and His Mother

    A MOLE, a creature blind from birth, once said to his Mother: “I am
    sure than I can see, Mother!” In the desire to prove to him his
    mistake, his Mother placed before him a few grains of frankincense, and
    asked, “What is it?” The young Mole said, “It is a pebble.” His Mother
    exclaimed: “My son, I am afraid that you are not only blind, but that
    you have lost your sense of smell.”

    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull

    A HERDSMAN tending his flock in a forest lost a Bull-calf from the
    fold. After a long and fruitless search, he made a vow that, if he
    could only discover the thief who had stolen the Calf, he would offer a
    lamb in sacrifice to Hermes, Pan, and the Guardian Deities of the
    forest. Not long afterwards, as he ascended a small hillock, he saw at
    its foot a Lion feeding on the Calf. Terrified at the sight, he lifted
    his eyes and his hands to heaven, and said: “Just now I vowed to offer
    a lamb to the Guardian Deities of the forest if I could only find out
    who had robbed me; but now that I have discovered the thief, I would
    willingly add a full-grown Bull to the Calf I have lost, if I may only
    secure my own escape from him in safety.”

    The Fawn and His Mother

    A YOUNG FAWN once said to his Mother, “You are larger than a dog, and
    swifter, and more used to running, and you have your horns as a
    defense; why, then, O Mother! do the hounds frighten you so?” She
    smiled, and said: “I know full well, my son, that all you say is true.
    I have the advantages you mention, but when I hear even the bark of a
    single dog I feel ready to faint, and fly away as fast as I can.”

    No arguments will give courage to the coward.

    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion

    THE ASS and the Fox, having entered into partnership together for their
    mutual protection, went out into the forest to hunt. They had not
    proceeded far when they met a Lion. The Fox, seeing imminent danger,
    approached the Lion and promised to contrive for him the capture of the
    Ass if the Lion would pledge his word not to harm the Fox. Then, upon
    assuring the Ass that he would not be injured, the Fox led him to a
    deep pit and arranged that he should fall into it. The Lion, seeing
    that the Ass was secured, immediately clutched the Fox, and attacked
    the Ass at his leisure.

    The Flies and the Honey-Pot

    A NUMBER of Flies were attracted to a jar of honey which had been
    overturned in a housekeeper’s room, and placing their feet in it, ate
    greedily. Their feet, however, became so smeared with the honey that
    they could not use their wings, nor release themselves, and were
    suffocated. Just as they were expiring, they exclaimed, “O foolish
    creatures that we are, for the sake of a little pleasure we have
    destroyed ourselves.”

    Pleasure bought with pains, hurts.

    The Lioness

    A CONTROVERSY prevailed among the beasts of the field as to which of
    the animals deserved the most credit for producing the greatest number
    of whelps at a birth. They rushed clamorously into the presence of the
    Lioness and demanded of her the settlement of the dispute. “And you,”
    they said, “how many sons have you at a birth?” The Lioness laughed at
    them, and said: “Why! I have only one; but that one is altogether a
    thoroughbred Lion.”

    The value is in the worth, not in the number.

    The Farmer and the Snake

    ONE WINTER a Farmer found a Snake stiff and frozen with cold. He had
    compassion on it, and taking it up, placed it in his bosom. The Snake
    was quickly revived by the warmth, and resuming its natural instincts,
    bit its benefactor, inflicting on him a mortal wound. “Oh,” cried the
    Farmer with his last breath, “I am rightly served for pitying a
    scoundrel.”

    The greatest kindness will not bind the ungrateful.

    The Man and the Lion

    A MAN and a Lion traveled together through the forest. They soon began
    to boast of their respective superiority to each other in strength and
    prowess. As they were disputing, they passed a statue carved in stone,
    which represented “a Lion strangled by a Man.” The traveler pointed to
    it and said: “See there! How strong we are, and how we prevail over
    even the king of beasts.” The Lion replied: “This statue was made by
    one of you men. If we Lions knew how to erect statues, you would see
    the Man placed under the paw of the Lion.”

    One story is good, till another is told.

    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble

    THE POMEGRANATE and Apple-Tree disputed as to which was the most
    beautiful. When their strife was at its height, a Bramble from the
    neighboring hedge lifted up its voice, and said in a boastful tone:
    “Pray, my dear friends, in my presence at least cease from such vain
    disputings.”

    The Farmer and the Stork

    A FARMER placed nets on his newly-sown plowlands and caught a number of
    Cranes, which came to pick up his seed. With them he trapped a Stork
    that had fractured his leg in the net and was earnestly beseeching the
    Farmer to spare his life. “Pray save me, Master,” he said, “and let me
    go free this once. My broken limb should excite your pity. Besides, I
    am no Crane, I am a Stork, a bird of excellent character; and see how I
    love and slave for my father and mother. Look too, at my feathers—they
    are not the least like those of a Crane.” The Farmer laughed aloud and
    said, “It may be all as you say, I only know this: I have taken you
    with these robbers, the Cranes, and you must die in their company.”

    Birds of a feather flock together.

    The Mountain in Labor

    A MOUNTAIN was once greatly agitated. Loud groans and noises were
    heard, and crowds of people came from all parts to see what was the
    matter. While they were assembled in anxious expectation of some
    terrible calamity, out came a Mouse.

    Don’t make much ado about nothing.

    The Bear and the Fox

    A BEAR boasted very much of his philanthropy, saying that of all
    animals he was the most tender in his regard for man, for he had such
    respect for him that he would not even touch his dead body. A Fox
    hearing these words said with a smile to the Bear, “Oh! that you would
    eat the dead and not the living.”

    The Tortoise and the Eagle

    A TORTOISE, lazily basking in the sun, complained to the sea-birds of
    her hard fate, that no one would teach her to fly. An Eagle, hovering
    near, heard her lamentation and demanded what reward she would give him
    if he would take her aloft and float her in the air. “I will give you,”
    she said, “all the riches of the Red Sea.” “I will teach you to fly
    then,” said the Eagle; and taking her up in his talons he carried her
    almost to the clouds suddenly he let her go, and she fell on a lofty
    mountain, dashing her shell to pieces. The Tortoise exclaimed in the
    moment of death: “I have deserved my present fate; for what had I to do
    with wings and clouds, who can with difficulty move about on the
    earth?”

    If men had all they wished, they would be often ruined.

    The Fox and the Goat

    A FOX one day fell into a deep well and could find no means of escape.
    A Goat, overcome with thirst, came to the same well, and seeing the
    Fox, inquired if the water was good. Concealing his sad plight under a
    merry guise, the Fox indulged in a lavish praise of the water, saying
    it was excellent beyond measure, and encouraging him to descend. The
    Goat, mindful only of his thirst, thoughtlessly jumped down, but just
    as he drank, the Fox informed him of the difficulty they were both in
    and suggested a scheme for their common escape. “If,” said he, “you
    will place your forefeet upon the wall and bend your head, I will run
    up your back and escape, and will help you out afterwards.” The Goat
    readily assented and the Fox leaped upon his back. Steadying himself
    with the Goat’s horns, he safely reached the mouth of the well and made
    off as fast as he could. When the Goat upbraided him for breaking his
    promise, he turned around and cried out, “You foolish old fellow! If
    you had as many brains in your head as you have hairs in your beard,
    you would never have gone down before you had inspected the way up, nor
    have exposed yourself to dangers from which you had no means of
    escape.”

    Look before you leap.

    The Raven and the Swan

    A RAVEN saw a Swan and desired to secure for himself the same beautiful
    plumage. Supposing that the Swan’s splendid white color arose from his
    washing in the water in which he swam, the Raven left the altars in the
    neighborhood where he picked up his living, and took up residence in
    the lakes and pools. But cleansing his feathers as often as he would,
    he could not change their color, while through want of food he
    perished.

    Change of habit cannot alter Nature.

    The Thirsty Pigeon

    A PIGEON, oppressed by excessive thirst, saw a goblet of water painted
    on a signboard. Not supposing it to be only a picture, she flew towards
    it with a loud whir and unwittingly dashed against the signboard,
    jarring herself terribly. Having broken her wings by the blow, she fell
    to the ground, and was caught by one of the bystanders.

    Zeal should not outrun discretion.

    The Dog in the Manger

    A DOG lay in a manger, and by his growling and snapping prevented the
    oxen from eating the hay which had been placed for them. “What a
    selfish Dog!” said one of them to his companions; “he cannot eat the
    hay himself, and yet refuses to allow those to eat who can.”

    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees

    A HEAVY WAGON was being dragged along a country lane by a team of Oxen.
    The Axle-trees groaned and creaked terribly; whereupon the Oxen,
    turning round, thus addressed the wheels: “Hullo there! why do you make
    so much noise? We bear all the labor, and we, not you, ought to cry
    out.”

    Those who suffer most cry out the least.

    The Farmer and the Cranes

    SOME CRANES made their feeding grounds on some plowlands newly sown
    with wheat. For a long time the Farmer, brandishing an empty sling,
    chased them away by the terror he inspired; but when the birds found
    that the sling was only swung in the air, they ceased to take any
    notice of it and would not move. The Farmer, on seeing this, charged
    his sling with stones, and killed a great number. The remaining birds
    at once forsook his fields, crying to each other, “It is time for us to
    be off to Liliput: for this man is no longer content to scare us, but
    begins to show us in earnest what he can do.”

    If words suffice not, blows must follow.

    The Sick Lion

    A LION, unable from old age and infirmities to provide himself with
    food by force, resolved to do so by artifice. He returned to his den,
    and lying down there, pretended to be sick, taking care that his
    sickness should be publicly known. The beasts expressed their sorrow,
    and came one by one to his den, where the Lion devoured them. After
    many of the beasts had thus disappeared, the Fox discovered the trick
    and presenting himself to the Lion, stood on the outside of the cave,
    at a respectful distance, and asked him how he was. “I am very
    middling,” replied the Lion, “but why do you stand without? Pray enter
    within to talk with me.” “No, thank you,” said the Fox. “I notice that
    there are many prints of feet entering your cave, but I see no trace of
    any returning.”

    He is wise who is warned by the misfortunes of others.

    The Bear and the Two Travelers

    TWO MEN were traveling together, when a Bear suddenly met them on their
    path. One of them climbed up quickly into a tree and concealed himself
    in the branches. The other, seeing that he must be attacked, fell flat
    on the ground, and when the Bear came up and felt him with his snout,
    and smelt him all over, he held his breath, and feigned the appearance
    of death as much as he could. The Bear soon left him, for it is said he
    will not touch a dead body. When he was quite gone, the other Traveler
    descended from the tree, and jocularly inquired of his friend what it
    was the Bear had whispered in his ear. “He gave me this advice,” his
    companion replied. “Never travel with a friend who deserts you at the
    approach of danger.”

    Misfortune tests the sincerity of friends.

    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail

    A FOX caught in a trap escaped, but in so doing lost his tail.
    Thereafter, feeling his life a burden from the shame and ridicule to
    which he was exposed, he schemed to convince all the other Foxes that
    being tailless was much more attractive, thus making up for his own
    deprivation. He assembled a good many Foxes and publicly advised them
    to cut off their tails, saying that they would not only look much
    better without them, but that they would get rid of the weight of the
    brush, which was a very great inconvenience. One of them interrupting
    him said, “If you had not yourself lost your tail, my friend, you would
    not thus counsel us.”

    The Cat and the Cock

    A CAT caught a Cock, and pondered how he might find a reasonable excuse
    for eating him. He accused him of being a nuisance to men by crowing in
    the nighttime and not permitting them to sleep. The Cock defended
    himself by saying that he did this for the benefit of men, that they
    might rise in time for their labours. The Cat replied, “Although you
    abound in specious apologies, I shall not remain supperless;” and he
    made a meal of him.

    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

    ONCE UPON A TIME a Wolf resolved to disguise his appearance in order to
    secure food more easily. Encased in the skin of a sheep, he pastured
    with the flock deceiving the shepherd by his costume. In the evening he
    was shut up by the shepherd in the fold; the gate was closed, and the
    entrance made thoroughly secure. But the shepherd, returning to the
    fold during the night to obtain meat for the next day, mistakenly
    caught up the Wolf instead of a sheep, and killed him instantly.

    Harm seek, harm find.

    The Goat and the Goatherd

    A GOATHERD had sought to bring back a stray goat to his flock. He
    whistled and sounded his horn in vain; the straggler paid no attention
    to the summons. At last the Goatherd threw a stone, and breaking its
    horn, begged the Goat not to tell his master. The Goat replied, “Why,
    you silly fellow, the horn will speak though I be silent.”

    Do not attempt to hide things which cannot be hid.

    The Boasting Traveler

    A MAN who had traveled in foreign lands boasted very much, on returning
    to his own country, of the many wonderful and heroic feats he had
    performed in the different places he had visited. Among other things,
    he said that when he was at Rhodes he had leaped to such a distance
    that no man of his day could leap anywhere near him as to that, there
    were in Rhodes many persons who saw him do it and whom he could call as
    witnesses. One of the bystanders interrupted him, saying: “Now, my good
    man, if this be all true there is no need of witnesses. Suppose this to
    be Rhodes, and leap for us.”

    The Lion in Love

    A LION demanded the daughter of a woodcutter in marriage. The Father,
    unwilling to grant, and yet afraid to refuse his request, hit upon this
    expedient to rid himself of his importunities. He expressed his
    willingness to accept the Lion as the suitor of his daughter on one
    condition: that he should allow him to extract his teeth, and cut off
    his claws, as his daughter was fearfully afraid of both. The Lion
    cheerfully assented to the proposal. But when the toothless, clawless
    Lion returned to repeat his request, the Woodman, no longer afraid, set
    upon him with his club, and drove him away into the forest.

    The Miser

    A MISER sold all that he had and bought a lump of gold, which he buried
    in a hole in the ground by the side of an old wall and went to look at
    daily. One of his workmen observed his frequent visits to the spot and
    decided to watch his movements. He soon discovered the secret of the
    hidden treasure, and digging down, came to the lump of gold, and stole
    it. The Miser, on his next visit, found the hole empty and began to
    tear his hair and to make loud lamentations. A neighbor, seeing him
    overcome with grief and learning the cause, said, “Pray do not grieve
    so; but go and take a stone, and place it in the hole, and fancy that
    the gold is still lying there. It will do you quite the same service;
    for when the gold was there, you had it not, as you did not make the
    slightest use of it.”

    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat

    A young Pig was shut up in a fold-yard with a Goat and a Sheep. On one
    occasion the shepherd laid hold of him, when he grunted, and squeaked,
    and resisted violently. The Sheep and the Goat complained of his
    distressing cries, and said, “He often handles us, and we do not cry
    out.” To this he replied, “Your handling and mine are very different
    things. He catches you only for your wool, or your milk, but he lays
    hold on me for my very life.”

    The Boy and the Filberts

    A BOY put his hand into a pitcher full of filberts. He grasped as many
    as he could possibly hold, but when he tried to pull out his hand, he
    was prevented from doing so by the neck of the pitcher. Unwilling to
    lose his filberts, and yet unable to withdraw his hand, he burst into
    tears and bitterly lamented his disappointment. A bystander said to
    him, “Be satisfied with half the quantity, and you will readily draw
    out your hand.”

    Do not attempt too much at once.

    The Frogs Asking for a King

    THE FROGS, grieved at having no established Ruler, sent ambassadors to
    Jupiter entreating for a King. Perceiving their simplicity, he cast
    down a huge log into the lake. The Frogs were terrified at the splash
    occasioned by its fall and hid themselves in the depths of the pool.
    But as soon as they realized that the huge log was motionless, they
    swam again to the top of the water, dismissed their fears, climbed up,
    and began squatting on it in contempt. After some time they began to
    think themselves ill-treated in the appointment of so inert a Ruler,
    and sent a second deputation to Jupiter to pray that he would set over
    them another sovereign. He then gave them an Eel to govern them. When
    the Frogs discovered his easy good nature, they sent yet a third time
    to Jupiter to beg him to choose for them still another King. Jupiter,
    displeased with all their complaints, sent a Heron, who preyed upon the
    Frogs day by day till there were none left to croak upon the lake.

    The Laborer and the Snake

    A SNAKE, having made his hole close to the porch of a cottage,
    inflicted a mortal bite on the Cottager’s infant son. Grieving over his
    loss, the Father resolved to kill the Snake. The next day, when it came
    out of its hole for food, he took up his axe, but by swinging too
    hastily, missed its head and cut off only the end of its tail. After
    some time the Cottager, afraid that the Snake would bite him also,
    endeavored to make peace, and placed some bread and salt in the hole.
    The Snake, slightly hissing, said: “There can henceforth be no peace
    between us; for whenever I see you I shall remember the loss of my
    tail, and whenever you see me you will be thinking of the death of your
    son.”

    No one truly forgets injuries in the presence of him who caused the
    injury.

    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox

    A LION, fatigued by the heat of a summer’s day, fell fast asleep in his
    den. A Mouse ran over his mane and ears and woke him from his slumbers.
    He rose up and shook himself in great wrath, and searched every corner
    of his den to find the Mouse. A Fox seeing him said: “A fine Lion you
    are, to be frightened of a Mouse.” “’Tis not the Mouse I fear,” said
    the Lion; “I resent his familiarity and ill-breeding.”

    Little liberties are great offenses.

    The Horse and Groom

    A GROOM used to spend whole days in currycombing and rubbing down his
    Horse, but at the same time stole his oats and sold them for his own
    profit. “Alas!” said the Horse, “if you really wish me to be in good
    condition, you should groom me less, and feed me more.”

    The Ass and the Mule

    A MULETEER set forth on a journey, driving before him an Ass and a
    Mule, both well laden. The Ass, as long as he traveled along the plain,
    carried his load with ease, but when he began to ascend the steep path
    of the mountain, felt his load to be more than he could bear. He
    entreated his companion to relieve him of a small portion, that he
    might carry home the rest; but the Mule paid no attention to the
    request. The Ass shortly afterwards fell down dead under his burden.
    Not knowing what else to do in so wild a region, the Muleteer placed
    upon the Mule the load carried by the Ass in addition to his own, and
    at the top of all placed the hide of the Ass, after he had skinned him.
    The Mule, groaning beneath his heavy burden, said to himself: “I am
    treated according to my deserts. If I had only been willing to assist
    the Ass a little in his need, I should not now be bearing, together
    with his burden, himself as well.”

    The Ass and the Lapdog

    A MAN had an Ass, and a Maltese Lapdog, a very great beauty. The Ass
    was left in a stable and had plenty of oats and hay to eat, just as any
    other Ass would. The Lapdog knew many tricks and was a great favourite
    with his master, who often fondled him and seldom went out to dine
    without bringing him home some tidbit to eat. The Ass, on the contrary,
    had much work to do in grinding the corn-mill and in carrying wood from
    the forest or burdens from the farm. He often lamented his own hard
    fate and contrasted it with the luxury and idleness of the Lapdog, till
    at last one day he broke his cords and halter, and galloped into his
    master’s house, kicking up his heels without measure, and frisking and
    fawning as well as he could. He next tried to jump about his master as
    he had seen the Lapdog do, but he broke the table and smashed all the
    dishes upon it to atoms. He then attempted to lick his master, and
    jumped upon his back. The servants, hearing the strange hubbub and
    perceiving the danger of their master, quickly relieved him, and drove
    out the Ass to his stable with kicks and clubs and cuffs. The Ass, as
    he returned to his stall beaten nearly to death, thus lamented: “I have
    brought it all on myself! Why could I not have been contented to labor
    with my companions, and not wish to be idle all the day like that
    useless little Lapdog!”

    The Oxen and the Butchers

    THE OXEN once upon a time sought to destroy the Butchers, who practiced
    a trade destructive to their race. They assembled on a certain day to
    carry out their purpose, and sharpened their horns for the contest. But
    one of them who was exceedingly old (for many a field had he plowed)
    thus spoke: “These Butchers, it is true, slaughter us, but they do so
    with skillful hands, and with no unnecessary pain. If we get rid of
    them, we shall fall into the hands of unskillful operators, and thus
    suffer a double death: for you may be assured, that though all the
    Butchers should perish, yet will men never want beef.”

    Do not be in a hurry to change one evil for another.

    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf

    A SHEPHERD-BOY, who watched a flock of sheep near a village, brought
    out the villagers three or four times by crying out, “Wolf! Wolf!” and
    when his neighbors came to help him, laughed at them for their pains.
    The Wolf, however, did truly come at last. The Shepherd-boy, now really
    alarmed, shouted in an agony of terror: “Pray, do come and help me; the
    Wolf is killing the sheep;” but no one paid any heed to his cries, nor
    rendered any assistance. The Wolf, having no cause of fear, at his
    leisure lacerated or destroyed the whole flock.

    There is no believing a liar, even when he speaks the truth.

    The Boys and the Frogs

    SOME BOYS, playing near a pond, saw a number of Frogs in the water and
    began to pelt them with stones. They killed several of them, when one
    of the Frogs, lifting his head out of the water, cried out: “Pray stop,
    my boys: what is sport to you, is death to us.”

    The Salt Merchant and His Ass

    A PEDDLER drove his Ass to the seashore to buy salt. His road home lay
    across a stream into which his Ass, making a false step, fell by
    accident and rose up again with his load considerably lighter, as the
    water melted the sack. The Peddler retraced his steps and refilled his
    panniers with a larger quantity of salt than before. When he came again
    to the stream, the Ass fell down on purpose in the same spot, and,
    regaining his feet with the weight of his load much diminished, brayed
    triumphantly as if he had obtained what he desired. The Peddler saw
    through his trick and drove him for the third time to the coast, where
    he bought a cargo of sponges instead of salt. The Ass, again playing
    the fool, fell down on purpose when he reached the stream, but the
    sponges became swollen with water, greatly increasing his load. And
    thus his trick recoiled on him, for he now carried on his back a double
    burden.

    The Mischievous Dog

    A DOG used to run up quietly to the heels of everyone he met, and to
    bite them without notice. His master suspended a bell about his neck so
    that the Dog might give notice of his presence wherever he went.
    Thinking it a mark of distinction, the Dog grew proud of his bell and
    went tinkling it all over the marketplace. One day an old hound said to
    him: “Why do you make such an exhibition of yourself? That bell that
    you carry is not, believe me, any order of merit, but on the contrary a
    mark of disgrace, a public notice to all men to avoid you as an ill
    mannered dog.”

    Notoriety is often mistaken for fame.

    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats

    A GOATHERD, driving his flock from their pasture at eventide, found
    some Wild Goats mingled among them, and shut them up together with his
    own for the night. The next day it snowed very hard, so that he could
    not take the herd to their usual feeding places, but was obliged to
    keep them in the fold. He gave his own goats just sufficient food to
    keep them alive, but fed the strangers more abundantly in the hope of
    enticing them to stay with him and of making them his own. When the
    thaw set in, he led them all out to feed, and the Wild Goats scampered
    away as fast as they could to the mountains. The Goatherd scolded them
    for their ingratitude in leaving him, when during the storm he had
    taken more care of them than of his own herd. One of them, turning
    about, said to him: “That is the very reason why we are so cautious;
    for if you yesterday treated us better than the Goats you have had so
    long, it is plain also that if others came after us, you would in the
    same manner prefer them to ourselves.”

    Old friends cannot with impunity be sacrificed for new ones.

    The Man and His Two Sweethearts

    A MIDDLE-AGED MAN, whose hair had begun to turn gray, courted two women
    at the same time. One of them was young, and the other well advanced in
    years. The elder woman, ashamed to be courted by a man younger than
    herself, made a point, whenever her admirer visited her, to pull out
    some portion of his black hairs. The younger, on the contrary, not
    wishing to become the wife of an old man, was equally zealous in
    removing every gray hair she could find. Thus it came to pass that
    between them both he very soon found that he had not a hair left on his
    head.

    Those who seek to please everybody please nobody.

    The Sick Stag

    A SICK STAG lay down in a quiet corner of its pasture-ground. His
    companions came in great numbers to inquire after his health, and each
    one helped himself to a share of the food which had been placed for his
    use; so that he died, not from his sickness, but from the failure of
    the means of living.

    Evil companions bring more hurt than profit.

    The Boy and the Nettles

    A BOY was stung by a Nettle. He ran home and told his Mother, saying,
    “Although it hurts me very much, I only touched it gently.” “That was
    just why it stung you,” said his Mother. “The next time you touch a
    Nettle, grasp it boldly, and it will be soft as silk to your hand, and
    not in the least hurt you.”

    Whatever you do, do with all your might.

    The Astronomer

    AN ASTRONOMER used to go out at night to observe the stars. One
    evening, as he wandered through the suburbs with his whole attention
    fixed on the sky, he fell accidentally into a deep well. While he
    lamented and bewailed his sores and bruises, and cried loudly for help,
    a neighbor ran to the well, and learning what had happened said: “Hark
    ye, old fellow, why, in striving to pry into what is in heaven, do you
    not manage to see what is on earth?”

    The Wolves and the Sheep

    “WHY SHOULD there always be this fear and slaughter between us?” said
    the Wolves to the Sheep. “Those evil-disposed Dogs have much to answer
    for. They always bark whenever we approach you and attack us before we
    have done any harm. If you would only dismiss them from your heels,
    there might soon be treaties of peace and reconciliation between us.”
    The Sheep, poor silly creatures, were easily beguiled and dismissed the
    Dogs, whereupon the Wolves destroyed the unguarded flock at their own
    pleasure.

    The Cat and the Birds

    A CAT, hearing that the Birds in a certain aviary were ailing dressed
    himself up as a physician, and, taking his cane and a bag of
    instruments becoming his profession, went to call on them. He knocked
    at the door and inquired of the inmates how they all did, saying that
    if they were ill, he would be happy to prescribe for them and cure
    them. They replied, “We are all very well, and shall continue so, if
    you will only be good enough to go away, and leave us as we are.”

    The Vain Jackdaw

    JUPITER DETERMINED, it is said, to create a sovereign over the birds,
    and made proclamation that on a certain day they should all present
    themselves before him, when he would himself choose the most beautiful
    among them to be king. The Jackdaw, knowing his own ugliness, searched
    through the woods and fields, and collected the feathers which had
    fallen from the wings of his companions, and stuck them in all parts of
    his body, hoping thereby to make himself the most beautiful of all.
    When the appointed day arrived, and the birds had assembled before
    Jupiter, the Jackdaw also made his appearance in his many feathered
    finery. But when Jupiter proposed to make him king because of the
    beauty of his plumage, the birds indignantly protested, and each
    plucked from him his own feathers, leaving the Jackdaw nothing but a
    Jackdaw.

    The Kid and the Wolf

    A KID standing on the roof of a house, out of harm’s way, saw a Wolf
    passing by and immediately began to taunt and revile him. The Wolf,
    looking up, said, “Sirrah! I hear thee: yet it is not thou who mockest
    me, but the roof on which thou art standing.”

    Time and place often give the advantage to the weak over the strong.

    The Old Woman and the Physician

    AN OLD WOMAN having lost the use of her eyes, called in a Physician to
    heal them, and made this bargain with him in the presence of witnesses:
    that if he should cure her blindness, he should receive from her a sum
    of money; but if her infirmity remained, she should give him nothing.
    This agreement being made, the Physician, time after time, applied his
    salve to her eyes, and on every visit took something away, stealing all
    her property little by little. And when he had got all she had, he
    healed her and demanded the promised payment. The Old Woman, when she
    recovered her sight and saw none of her goods in her house, would give
    him nothing. The Physician insisted on his claim, and, as she still
    refused, summoned her before the Judge. The Old Woman, standing up in
    the Court, argued: “This man here speaks the truth in what he says; for
    I did promise to give him a sum of money if I should recover my sight:
    but if I continued blind, I was to give him nothing. Now he declares
    that I am healed. I on the contrary affirm that I am still blind; for
    when I lost the use of my eyes, I saw in my house various chattels and
    valuable goods: but now, though he swears I am cured of my blindness, I
    am not able to see a single thing in it.”

    The Ox and the Frog

    AN OX drinking at a pool trod on a brood of young frogs and crushed one
    of them to death. The Mother coming up, and missing one of her sons,
    inquired of his brothers what had become of him. “He is dead, dear
    Mother; for just now a very huge beast with four great feet came to the
    pool and crushed him to death with his cloven heel.” The Frog, puffing
    herself out, inquired, “if the beast was as big as that in size.”
    “Cease, Mother, to puff yourself out,” said her son, “and do not be
    angry; for you would, I assure you, sooner burst than successfully
    imitate the hugeness of that monster.”

    The Farmer and His Sons

    A FATHER, being on the point of death, wished to be sure that his sons
    would give the same attention to his farm as he himself had given it.
    He called them to his bedside and said, “My sons, there is a great
    treasure hid in one of my vineyards.” The sons, after his death, took
    their spades and mattocks and carefully dug over every portion of their
    land. They found no treasure, but the vines repaid their labor by an
    extraordinary and superabundant crop.

    The Heifer and the Ox

    A HEIFER saw an Ox hard at work harnessed to a plow, and tormented him
    with reflections on his unhappy fate in being compelled to labor.
    Shortly afterwards, at the harvest festival, the owner released the Ox
    from his yoke, but bound the Heifer with cords and led him away to the
    altar to be slain in honour of the occasion. The Ox saw what was being
    done, and said with a smile to the Heifer: “For this you were allowed
    to live in idleness, because you were presently to be sacrificed.”

    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle

    TWO GAME COCKS were fiercely fighting for the mastery of the farmyard.
    One at last put the other to flight. The vanquished Cock skulked away
    and hid himself in a quiet corner, while the conqueror, flying up to a
    high wall, flapped his wings and crowed exultingly with all his might.
    An Eagle sailing through the air pounced upon him and carried him off
    in his talons. The vanquished Cock immediately came out of his corner,
    and ruled henceforth with undisputed mastery.

    Pride goes before destruction.

    The Charger and the Miller

    A CHARGER, feeling the infirmities of age, was sent to work in a mill
    instead of going out to battle. But when he was compelled to grind
    instead of serving in the wars, he bewailed his change of fortune and
    called to mind his former state, saying, “Ah! Miller, I had indeed to
    go campaigning before, but I was barbed from counter to tail, and a man
    went along to groom me; and now I cannot understand what ailed me to
    prefer the mill before the battle.” “Forbear,” said the Miller to him,
    “harping on what was of yore, for it is the common lot of mortals to
    sustain the ups and downs of fortune.”

    The Fox and the Monkey

    A MONKEY once danced in an assembly of the Beasts, and so pleased them
    all by his performance that they elected him their King. A Fox, envying
    him the honour, discovered a piece of meat lying in a trap, and leading
    the Monkey to the place where it was, said that she had found a store,
    but had not used it, she had kept it for him as treasure trove of his
    kingdom, and counseled him to lay hold of it. The Monkey approached
    carelessly and was caught in the trap; and on his accusing the Fox of
    purposely leading him into the snare, she replied, “O Monkey, and are
    you, with such a mind as yours, going to be King over the Beasts?”

    The Horse and His Rider

    A HORSE SOLDIER took the utmost pains with his charger. As long as the
    war lasted, he looked upon him as his fellow-helper in all emergencies
    and fed him carefully with hay and corn. But when the war was over, he
    only allowed him chaff to eat and made him carry heavy loads of wood,
    subjecting him to much slavish drudgery and ill-treatment. War was
    again proclaimed, however, and when the trumpet summoned him to his
    standard, the Soldier put on his charger its military trappings, and
    mounted, being clad in his heavy coat of mail. The Horse fell down
    straightway under the weight, no longer equal to the burden, and said
    to his master, “You must now go to the war on foot, for you have
    transformed me from a Horse into an Ass; and how can you expect that I
    can again turn in a moment from an Ass to a Horse?”

    The Belly and the Members

    THE MEMBERS of the Body rebelled against the Belly, and said, “Why
    should we be perpetually engaged in administering to your wants, while
    you do nothing but take your rest, and enjoy yourself in luxury and
    self-indulgence?” The Members carried out their resolve and refused
    their assistance to the Belly. The whole Body quickly became
    debilitated, and the hands, feet, mouth, and eyes, when too late,
    repented of their folly.

    The Widow and Her Little Maidens

    A WIDOW who was fond of cleaning had two little maidens to wait on her.
    She was in the habit of waking them early in the morning, at cockcrow.
    The maidens, aggravated by such excessive labor, resolved to kill the
    cock who roused their mistress so early. When they had done this, they
    found that they had only prepared for themselves greater troubles, for
    their mistress, no longer hearing the hour from the cock, woke them up
    to their work in the middle of the night.

    The Vine and the Goat

    A VINE was luxuriant in the time of vintage with leaves and grapes. A
    Goat, passing by, nibbled its young tendrils and its leaves. The Vine
    addressed him and said: “Why do you thus injure me without a cause, and
    crop my leaves? Is there no young grass left? But I shall not have to
    wait long for my just revenge; for if you now should crop my leaves,
    and cut me down to my root, I shall provide the wine to pour over you
    when you are led as a victim to the sacrifice.”

    Jupiter and the Monkey

    JUPITER ISSUED a proclamation to all the beasts of the forest and
    promised a royal reward to the one whose offspring should be deemed the
    handsomest. The Monkey came with the rest and presented, with all a
    mother’s tenderness, a flat-nosed, hairless, ill-featured young Monkey
    as a candidate for the promised reward. A general laugh saluted her on
    the presentation of her son. She resolutely said, “I know not whether
    Jupiter will allot the prize to my son, but this I do know, that he is
    at least in the eyes of me his mother, the dearest, handsomest, and
    most beautiful of all.”

    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons

    THE PIGEONS, terrified by the appearance of a Kite, called upon the
    Hawk to defend them. He at once consented. When they had admitted him
    into the cote, they found that he made more havoc and slew a larger
    number of them in one day than the Kite could pounce upon in a whole
    year.

    Avoid a remedy that is worse than the disease.

    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat

    THE DOLPHINS and Whales waged a fierce war with each other. When the
    battle was at its height, a Sprat lifted its head out of the waves and
    said that he would reconcile their differences if they would accept him
    as an umpire. One of the Dolphins replied, “We would far rather be
    destroyed in our battle with each other than admit any interference
    from you in our affairs.”

    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice

    A SWALLOW, returning from abroad and especially fond of dwelling with
    men, built herself a nest in the wall of a Court of Justice and there
    hatched seven young birds. A Serpent gliding past the nest from its
    hole in the wall ate up the young unfledged nestlings. The Swallow,
    finding her nest empty, lamented greatly and exclaimed: “Woe to me a
    stranger! that in this place where all others’ rights are protected, I
    alone should suffer wrong.”

    The Two Pots

    A RIVER carried down in its stream two Pots, one made of earthenware
    and the other of brass. The Earthen Pot said to the Brass Pot, “Pray
    keep at a distance and do not come near me, for if you touch me ever so
    slightly, I shall be broken in pieces, and besides, I by no means wish
    to come near you.”

    Equals make the best friends.

    The Shepherd and the Wolf

    A SHEPHERD once found the whelp of a Wolf and brought it up, and after
    a while taught it to steal lambs from the neighboring flocks. The Wolf,
    having shown himself an apt pupil, said to the Shepherd, “Since you
    have taught me to steal, you must keep a sharp lookout, or you will
    lose some of your own flock.”

    The Crab and Its Mother

    A CRAB said to her son, “Why do you walk so one-sided, my child? It is
    far more becoming to go straight forward.” The young Crab replied:
    “Quite true, dear Mother; and if you will show me the straight way, I
    will promise to walk in it.” The Mother tried in vain, and submitted
    without remonstrance to the reproof of her child.

    Example is more powerful than precept.

    The Father and His Two Daughters

    A MAN had two daughters, the one married to a gardener, and the other
    to a tile-maker. After a time he went to the daughter who had married
    the gardener, and inquired how she was and how all things went with
    her. She said, “All things are prospering with me, and I have only one
    wish, that there may be a heavy fall of rain, in order that the plants
    may be well watered.” Not long after, he went to the daughter who had
    married the tilemaker, and likewise inquired of her how she fared; she
    replied, “I want for nothing, and have only one wish, that the dry
    weather may continue, and the sun shine hot and bright, so that the
    bricks might be dried.” He said to her, “If your sister wishes for
    rain, and you for dry weather, with which of the two am I to join my
    wishes?”

    The Thief and His Mother

    A BOY stole a lesson-book from one of his schoolfellows and took it
    home to his Mother. She not only abstained from beating him, but
    encouraged him. He next time stole a cloak and brought it to her, and
    she again commended him. The Youth, advanced to adulthood, proceeded to
    steal things of still greater value. At last he was caught in the very
    act, and having his hands bound behind him, was led away to the place
    of public execution. His Mother followed in the crowd and violently
    beat her breast in sorrow, whereupon the young man said, “I wish to say
    something to my Mother in her ear.” She came close to him, and he
    quickly seized her ear with his teeth and bit it off. The Mother
    upbraided him as an unnatural child, whereon he replied, “Ah! if you
    had beaten me when I first stole and brought to you that lesson-book, I
    should not have come to this, nor have been thus led to a disgraceful
    death.”

    The Old Man and Death

    AN OLD MAN was employed in cutting wood in the forest, and, in carrying
    the faggots to the city for sale one day, became very wearied with his
    long journey. He sat down by the wayside, and throwing down his load,
    besought “Death” to come. “Death” immediately appeared in answer to his
    summons and asked for what reason he had called him. The Old Man
    hurriedly replied, “That, lifting up the load, you may place it again
    upon my shoulders.”

    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble

    A FIR-TREE said boastingly to the Bramble, “You are useful for nothing
    at all; while I am everywhere used for roofs and houses.” The Bramble
    answered: “You poor creature, if you would only call to mind the axes
    and saws which are about to hew you down, you would have reason to wish
    that you had grown up a Bramble, not a Fir-Tree.”

    Better poverty without care, than riches with.

    The Æthiop

    THE PURCHASER of a black servant was persuaded that the color of his
    skin arose from dirt contracted through the neglect of his former
    masters. On bringing him home he resorted to every means of cleaning,
    and subjected the man to incessant scrubbings. The servant caught a
    severe cold, but he never changed his color or complexion.

    What’s bred in the bone will stick to the flesh.

    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk

    A MOUSE who always lived on the land, by an unlucky chance formed an
    intimate acquaintance with a Frog, who lived for the most part in the
    water. The Frog, one day intent on mischief, bound the foot of the
    Mouse tightly to his own. Thus joined together, the Frog first of all
    led his friend the Mouse to the meadow where they were accustomed to
    find their food. After this, he gradually led him towards the pool in
    which he lived, until reaching the very brink, he suddenly jumped in,
    dragging the Mouse with him. The Frog enjoyed the water amazingly, and
    swam croaking about, as if he had done a good deed. The unhappy Mouse
    was soon suffocated by the water, and his dead body floated about on
    the surface, tied to the foot of the Frog. A Hawk observed it, and,
    pouncing upon it with his talons, carried it aloft. The Frog, being
    still fastened to the leg of the Mouse, was also carried off a
    prisoner, and was eaten by the Hawk.

    Harm hatch, harm catch.

    The Fisherman and His Nets

    A FISHERMAN, engaged in his calling, made a very successful cast and
    captured a great haul of fish. He managed by a skillful handling of his
    net to retain all the large fish and to draw them to the shore; but he
    could not prevent the smaller fish from falling back through the meshes
    of the net into the sea.

    The Wolf and the Sheep

    A WOLF, sorely wounded and bitten by dogs, lay sick and maimed in his
    lair. Being in want of food, he called to a Sheep who was passing, and
    asked him to fetch some water from a stream flowing close beside him.
    “For,” he said, “if you will bring me drink, I will find means to
    provide myself with meat.” “Yes,” said the Sheep, “if I should bring
    you the draught, you would doubtless make me provide the meat also.”

    Hypocritical speeches are easily seen through.

    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar

    AN OLD WOMAN found an empty jar which had lately been full of prime old
    wine and which still retained the fragrant smell of its former
    contents. She greedily placed it several times to her nose, and drawing
    it backwards and forwards said, “O most delicious! How nice must the
    Wine itself have been, when it leaves behind in the very vessel which
    contained it so sweet a perfume!”

    The memory of a good deed lives.

    The Man Bitten by a Dog

    A MAN who had been bitten by a Dog went about in quest of someone who
    might heal him. A friend, meeting him and learning what he wanted,
    said, “If you would be cured, take a piece of bread, and dip it in the
    blood from your wound, and go and give it to the Dog that bit you.” The
    Man who had been bitten laughed at this advice and said, “Why? If I
    should do so, it would be as if I should beg every Dog in the town to
    bite me.”

    Benefits bestowed upon the evil-disposed increase their means of
    injuring you.

    The Huntsman and the Fisherman

    A HUNTSMAN, returning with his dogs from the field, fell in by chance
    with a Fisherman who was bringing home a basket well laden with fish.
    The Huntsman wished to have the fish, and their owner experienced an
    equal longing for the contents of the game-bag. They quickly agreed to
    exchange the produce of their day’s sport. Each was so well pleased
    with his bargain that they made for some time the same exchange day
    after day. Finally a neighbor said to them, “If you go on in this way,
    you will soon destroy by frequent use the pleasure of your exchange,
    and each will again wish to retain the fruits of his own sport.”

    Abstain and enjoy.

    The Fox and the Crow

    A CROW having stolen a bit of meat, perched in a tree and held it in
    her beak. A Fox, seeing this, longed to possess the meat himself, and
    by a wily stratagem succeeded. “How handsome is the Crow,” he
    exclaimed, “in the beauty of her shape and in the fairness of her
    complexion! Oh, if her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would
    deservedly be considered the Queen of Birds!” This he said deceitfully;
    but the Crow, anxious to refute the reflection cast upon her voice, set
    up a loud caw and dropped the flesh. The Fox quickly picked it up, and
    thus addressed the Crow: “My good Crow, your voice is right enough, but
    your wit is wanting.”

    The Widow and the Sheep

    A CERTAIN poor widow had one solitary Sheep. At shearing time, wishing
    to take his fleece and to avoid expense, she sheared him herself, but
    used the shears so unskillfully that with the fleece she sheared the
    flesh. The Sheep, writhing with pain, said, “Why do you hurt me so,
    Mistress? What weight can my blood add to the wool? If you want my
    flesh, there is the butcher, who will kill me in an instant; but if you
    want my fleece and wool, there is the shearer, who will shear and not
    hurt me.”

    The least outlay is not always the greatest gain.

    The Playful Ass

    AN ASS climbed up to the roof of a building, and frisking about there,
    broke in the tiling. The owner went up after him and quickly drove him
    down, beating him severely with a thick wooden cudgel. The Ass said,
    “Why, I saw the Monkey do this very thing yesterday, and you all
    laughed heartily, as if it afforded you very great amusement.”

    The Stag in the Ox-Stall

    A STAG, roundly chased by the hounds and blinded by fear to the danger
    he was running into, took shelter in a farmyard and hid himself in a
    shed among the oxen. An Ox gave him this kindly warning: “O unhappy
    creature! why should you thus, of your own accord, incur destruction
    and trust yourself in the house of your enemy?” The Stag replied: “Only
    allow me, friend, to stay where I am, and I will undertake to find some
    favourable opportunity of effecting my escape.” At the approach of the
    evening the herdsman came to feed his cattle, but did not see the Stag;
    and even the farm-bailiff with several laborers passed through the shed
    and failed to notice him. The Stag, congratulating himself on his
    safety, began to express his sincere thanks to the Oxen who had kindly
    helped him in the hour of need. One of them again answered him: “We
    indeed wish you well, but the danger is not over. There is one other
    yet to pass through the shed, who has as it were a hundred eyes, and
    until he has come and gone, your life is still in peril.” At that
    moment the master himself entered, and having had to complain that his
    oxen had not been properly fed, he went up to their racks and cried
    out: “Why is there such a scarcity of fodder? There is not half enough
    straw for them to lie on. Those lazy fellows have not even swept the
    cobwebs away.” While he thus examined everything in turn, he spied the
    tips of the antlers of the Stag peeping out of the straw. Then
    summoning his laborers, he ordered that the Stag should be seized and
    killed.

    The Two Dogs

    A MAN had two dogs: a Hound, trained to assist him in his sports, and a
    Housedog, taught to watch the house. When he returned home after a good
    day’s sport, he always gave the Housedog a large share of his spoil.
    The Hound, feeling much aggrieved at this, reproached his companion,
    saying, “It is very hard to have all this labor, while you, who do not
    assist in the chase, luxuriate on the fruits of my exertions.” The
    Housedog replied, “Do not blame me, my friend, but find fault with the
    master, who has not taught me to labor, but to depend for subsistence
    on the labor of others.”

    Children are not to be blamed for the faults of their parents.

    The Wild Ass and the Lion

    A WILD ASS and a Lion entered into an alliance so that they might
    capture the beasts of the forest with greater ease. The Lion agreed to
    assist the Wild Ass with his strength, while the Wild Ass gave the Lion
    the benefit of his greater speed. When they had taken as many beasts as
    their necessities required, the Lion undertook to distribute the prey,
    and for this purpose divided it into three shares. “I will take the
    first share,” he said, “because I am King: and the second share, as a
    partner with you in the chase: and the third share (believe me) will be
    a source of great evil to you, unless you willingly resign it to me,
    and set off as fast as you can.”

    Might makes right.

    The Lion and the Dolphin

    A LION roaming by the seashore saw a Dolphin lift up its head out of
    the waves, and suggested that they contract an alliance, saying that of
    all the animals they ought to be the best friends, since the one was
    the king of beasts on the earth, and the other was the sovereign ruler
    of all the inhabitants of the ocean. The Dolphin gladly consented to
    this request. Not long afterwards the Lion had a combat with a wild
    bull, and called on the Dolphin to help him. The Dolphin, though quite
    willing to give him assistance, was unable to do so, as he could not by
    any means reach the land. The Lion abused him as a traitor. The Dolphin
    replied, “Nay, my friend, blame not me, but Nature, which, while giving
    me the sovereignty of the sea, has quite denied me the power of living
    upon the land.”

    The Eagle and the Arrow

    AN EAGLE sat on a lofty rock, watching the movements of a Hare whom he
    sought to make his prey. An archer, who saw the Eagle from a place of
    concealment, took an accurate aim and wounded him mortally. The Eagle
    gave one look at the arrow that had entered his heart and saw in that
    single glance that its feathers had been furnished by himself. “It is a
    double grief to me,” he exclaimed, “that I should perish by an arrow
    feathered from my own wings.”

    The Sick Kite

    A KITE, sick unto death, said to his mother: “O Mother! do not mourn,
    but at once invoke the gods that my life may be prolonged.” She
    replied, “Alas! my son, which of the gods do you think will pity you?
    Is there one whom you have not outraged by filching from their very
    altars a part of the sacrifice offered up to them?”

    We must make friends in prosperity if we would have their help in
    adversity.

    The Lion and the Boar

    ON A SUMMER DAY, when the great heat induced a general thirst among the
    beasts, a Lion and a Boar came at the same moment to a small well to
    drink. They fiercely disputed which of them should drink first, and
    were soon engaged in the agonies of a mortal combat. When they stopped
    suddenly to catch their breath for a fiercer renewal of the fight, they
    saw some Vultures waiting in the distance to feast on the one that
    should fall first. They at once made up their quarrel, saying, “It is
    better for us to make friends, than to become the food of Crows or
    Vultures.”

    The Mice in Council

    THE MICE summoned a council to decide how they might best devise means
    of warning themselves of the approach of their great enemy the Cat.
    Among the many plans suggested, the one that found most favour was the
    proposal to tie a bell to the neck of the Cat, so that the Mice, being
    warned by the sound of the tinkling, might run away and hide themselves
    in their holes at his approach. But when the Mice further debated who
    among them should thus “bell the Cat,” there was no one found to do it.

    The One-Eyed Doe

    A DOE blind in one eye was accustomed to graze as near to the edge of
    the cliff as she possibly could, in the hope of securing her greater
    safety. She turned her sound eye towards the land that she might get
    the earliest tidings of the approach of hunter or hound, and her
    injured eye towards the sea, from whence she entertained no
    anticipation of danger. Some boatmen sailing by saw her, and taking a
    successful aim, mortally wounded her. Yielding up her last breath, she
    gasped forth this lament: “O wretched creature that I am! to take such
    precaution against the land, and after all to find this seashore, to
    which I had come for safety, so much more perilous.”

    The Mice and the Weasels

    THE WEASELS and the Mice waged a perpetual war with each other, in
    which much blood was shed. The Weasels were always the victors. The
    Mice thought that the cause of their frequent defeats was that they had
    no leaders set apart from the general army to command them, and that
    they were exposed to dangers from lack of discipline. They therefore
    chose as leaders Mice that were most renowned for their family descent,
    strength, and counsel, as well as those most noted for their courage in
    the fight, so that they might be better marshaled in battle array and
    formed into troops, regiments, and battalions. When all this was done,
    and the army disciplined, and the herald Mouse had duly proclaimed war
    by challenging the Weasels, the newly chosen generals bound their heads
    with straws, that they might be more conspicuous to all their troops.
    Scarcely had the battle begun, when a great rout overwhelmed the Mice,
    who scampered off as fast as they could to their holes. The generals,
    not being able to get in on account of the ornaments on their heads,
    were all captured and eaten by the Weasels.

    The more honour the more danger.

    The Shepherd and the Sea

    A SHEPHERD, keeping watch over his sheep near the shore, saw the Sea
    very calm and smooth, and longed to make a voyage with a view to
    commerce. He sold all his flock, invested it in a cargo of dates, and
    set sail. But a very great tempest came on, and the ship being in
    danger of sinking, he threw all his merchandise overboard, and barely
    escaped with his life in the empty ship. Not long afterwards when
    someone passed by and observed the unruffled calm of the Sea, he
    interrupted him and said, “It is again in want of dates, and therefore
    looks quiet.”

    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion

    AN ASS and a Cock were in a straw-yard together when a Lion, desperate
    from hunger, approached the spot. He was about to spring upon the Ass,
    when the Cock (to the sound of whose voice the Lion, it is said, has a
    singular aversion) crowed loudly, and the Lion fled away as fast as he
    could. The Ass, observing his trepidation at the mere crowing of a Cock
    summoned courage to attack him, and galloped after him for that
    purpose. He had run no long distance, when the Lion, turning about,
    seized him and tore him to pieces.

    False confidence often leads into danger.

    The Rivers and the Sea

    THE RIVERS joined together to complain to the Sea, saying, “Why is it
    that when we flow into your tides so potable and sweet, you work in us
    such a change, and make us salty and unfit to drink?” The Sea,
    perceiving that they intended to throw the blame on him, said, “Pray
    cease to flow into me, and then you will not be made briny.”

    The Wild Boar and the Fox

    A WILD BOAR stood under a tree and rubbed his tusks against the trunk.
    A Fox passing by asked him why he thus sharpened his teeth when there
    was no danger threatening from either huntsman or hound. He replied, “I
    do it advisedly; for it would never do to have to sharpen my weapons
    just at the time I ought to be using them.”

    To be well prepared for war is the best guarantee of peace.

    The Milk-Woman and Her Pail

    A FARMER’S daughter was carrying her Pail of milk from the field to the
    farmhouse, when she fell a-musing. “The money for which this milk will
    be sold, will buy at least three hundred eggs. The eggs, allowing for
    all mishaps, will produce two hundred and fifty chickens. The chickens
    will become ready for the market when poultry will fetch the highest
    price, so that by the end of the year I shall have money enough from my
    share to buy a new gown. In this dress I will go to the Christmas
    parties, where all the young fellows will propose to me, but I will
    toss my head and refuse them every one.” At this moment she tossed her
    head in unison with her thoughts, when down fell the milk pail to the
    ground, and all her imaginary schemes perished in a moment.

    The Bee and Jupiter

    A BEE from Mount Hymettus, the queen of the hive, ascended to Olympus
    to present Jupiter some honey fresh from her combs. Jupiter, delighted
    with the offering of honey, promised to give whatever she should ask.
    She therefore besought him, saying, “Give me, I pray thee, a sting,
    that if any mortal shall approach to take my honey, I may kill him.”
    Jupiter was much displeased, for he loved the race of man, but could
    not refuse the request because of his promise. He thus answered the
    Bee: “You shall have your request, but it will be at the peril of your
    own life. For if you use your sting, it shall remain in the wound you
    make, and then you will die from the loss of it.”

    Evil wishes, like chickens, come home to roost.

    The Wolf and the Housedog

    A WOLF, meeting a big well-fed Mastiff with a wooden collar about his
    neck asked him who it was that fed him so well and yet compelled him to
    drag that heavy log about wherever he went. “The master,” he replied.
    Then said the Wolf: “May no friend of mine ever be in such a plight;
    for the weight of this chain is enough to spoil the appetite.”

    The Three Tradesmen

    A GREAT CITY was besieged, and its inhabitants were called together to
    consider the best means of protecting it from the enemy. A Bricklayer
    earnestly recommended bricks as affording the best material for an
    effective resistance. A Carpenter, with equal enthusiasm, proposed
    timber as a preferable method of defense. Upon which a Currier stood up
    and said, “Sirs, I differ from you altogether: there is no material for
    resistance equal to a covering of hides; and nothing so good as
    leather.”

    Every man for himself.

    The Ass Carrying the Image

    AN ASS once carried through the streets of a city a famous wooden
    Image, to be placed in one of its Temples. As he passed along, the
    crowd made lowly prostration before the Image. The Ass, thinking that
    they bowed their heads in token of respect for himself, bristled up
    with pride, gave himself airs, and refused to move another step. The
    driver, seeing him thus stop, laid his whip lustily about his shoulders
    and said, “O you perverse dull-head! it is not yet come to this, that
    men pay worship to an Ass.”

    They are not wise who give to themselves the credit due to others.

    The Master and His Dogs

    A CERTAIN MAN, detained by a storm in his country house, first of all
    killed his sheep, and then his goats, for the maintenance of his
    household. The storm still continuing, he was obliged to slaughter his
    yoke oxen for food. On seeing this, his Dogs took counsel together, and
    said, “It is time for us to be off, for if the master spare not his
    oxen, who work for his gain, how can we expect him to spare us?”

    He is not to be trusted as a friend who mistreats his own family.

    The Old Hound

    A HOUND, who in the days of his youth and strength had never yielded to
    any beast of the forest, encountered in his old age a boar in the
    chase. He seized him boldly by the ear, but could not retain his hold
    because of the decay of his teeth, so that the boar escaped. His
    master, quickly coming up, was very much disappointed, and fiercely
    abused the dog. The Hound looked up and said, “It was not my fault
    master: my spirit was as good as ever, but I could not help my
    infirmities. I rather deserve to be praised for what I have been, than
    to be blamed for what I am.”

    The Two Travelers and the Axe

    TWO MEN were journeying together. One of them picked up an axe that lay
    upon the path, and said, “I have found an axe.” “Nay, my friend,”
    replied the other, “do not say ‘I,’ but ‘We’ have found an axe.” They
    had not gone far before they saw the owner of the axe pursuing them,
    and he who had picked up the axe said, “We are undone.” “Nay,” replied
    the other, “keep to your first mode of speech, my friend; what you
    thought right then, think right now. Say ‘I,’ not ‘We’ are undone.”

    He who shares the danger ought to share the prize.

    The Old Lion

    A LION, worn out with years and powerless from disease, lay on the
    ground at the point of death. A Boar rushed upon him, and avenged with
    a stroke of his tusks a long-remembered injury. Shortly afterwards the
    Bull with his horns gored him as if he were an enemy. When the Ass saw
    that the huge beast could be assailed with impunity, he let drive at
    his forehead with his heels. The expiring Lion said, “I have
    reluctantly brooked the insults of the brave, but to be compelled to
    endure such treatment from thee, a disgrace to Nature, is indeed to die
    a double death.”

    The Wolf and the Shepherds

    A WOLF, passing by, saw some Shepherds in a hut eating a haunch of
    mutton for their dinner. Approaching them, he said, “What a clamor you
    would raise if I were to do as you are doing!”

    The Seaside Travelers

    SOME TRAVELERS, journeying along the seashore, climbed to the summit of
    a tall cliff, and looking over the sea, saw in the distance what they
    thought was a large ship. They waited in the hope of seeing it enter
    the harbor, but as the object on which they looked was driven nearer to
    shore by the wind, they found that it could at the most be a small
    boat, and not a ship. When however it reached the beach, they
    discovered that it was only a large faggot of sticks, and one of them
    said to his companions, “We have waited for no purpose, for after all
    there is nothing to see but a load of wood.”

    Our mere anticipations of life outrun its realities.

    The Ass and His Shadow

    A TRAVELER hired an Ass to convey him to a distant place. The day being
    intensely hot, and the sun shining in its strength, the Traveler
    stopped to rest, and sought shelter from the heat under the Shadow of
    the Ass. As this afforded only protection for one, and as the Traveler
    and the owner of the Ass both claimed it, a violent dispute arose
    between them as to which of them had the right to the Shadow. The owner
    maintained that he had let the Ass only, and not his Shadow. The
    Traveler asserted that he had, with the hire of the Ass, hired his
    Shadow also. The quarrel proceeded from words to blows, and while the
    men fought, the Ass galloped off.

    In quarreling about the shadow we often lose the substance.

    The Ass and His Masters

    AN ASS, belonging to an herb-seller who gave him too little food and
    too much work made a petition to Jupiter to be released from his
    present service and provided with another master. Jupiter, after
    warning him that he would repent his request, caused him to be sold to
    a tile-maker. Shortly afterwards, finding that he had heavier loads to
    carry and harder work in the brick-field, he petitioned for another
    change of master. Jupiter, telling him that it would be the last time
    that he could grant his request, ordained that he be sold to a tanner.
    The Ass found that he had fallen into worse hands, and noting his
    master’s occupation, said, groaning: “It would have been better for me
    to have been either starved by the one, or to have been overworked by
    the other of my former masters, than to have been bought by my present
    owner, who will even after I am dead tan my hide, and make me useful to
    him.”

    Mercury and the Sculptor

    MERCURY once determined to learn in what esteem he was held among
    mortals. For this purpose he assumed the character of a man and visited
    in this disguise a Sculptor’s studio having looked at various statues,
    he demanded the price of two figures of Jupiter and Juno. When the sum
    at which they were valued was named, he pointed to a figure of himself,
    saying to the Sculptor, “You will certainly want much more for this, as
    it is the statue of the Messenger of the Gods, and author of all your
    gain.” The Sculptor replied, “Well, if you will buy these, I’ll fling
    you that into the bargain.”

    The Fox and the Woodcutter

    A FOX, running before the hounds, came across a Woodcutter felling an
    oak and begged him to show him a safe hiding-place. The Woodcutter
    advised him to take shelter in his own hut, so the Fox crept in and hid
    himself in a corner. The huntsman soon came up with his hounds and
    inquired of the Woodcutter if he had seen the Fox. He declared that he
    had not seen him, and yet pointed, all the time he was speaking, to the
    hut where the Fox lay hidden. The huntsman took no notice of the signs,
    but believing his word, hastened forward in the chase. As soon as they
    were well away, the Fox departed without taking any notice of the
    Woodcutter: whereon he called to him and reproached him, saying, “You
    ungrateful fellow, you owe your life to me, and yet you leave me
    without a word of thanks.” The Fox replied, “Indeed, I should have
    thanked you fervently if your deeds had been as good as your words, and
    if your hands had not been traitors to your speech.”

    The Oak and the Reeds

    A VERY LARGE OAK was uprooted by the wind and thrown across a stream.
    It fell among some Reeds, which it thus addressed: “I wonder how you,
    who are so light and weak, are not entirely crushed by these strong
    winds.” They replied, “You fight and contend with the wind, and
    consequently you are destroyed; while we on the contrary bend before
    the least breath of air, and therefore remain unbroken, and escape.”

    Stoop to conquer.

    The Lion in a Farmyard

    A LION entered a farmyard. The Farmer, wishing to catch him, shut the
    gate. When the Lion found that he could not escape, he flew upon the
    sheep and killed them, and then attacked the oxen. The Farmer,
    beginning to be alarmed for his own safety, opened the gate and
    released the Lion. On his departure the Farmer grievously lamented the
    destruction of his sheep and oxen, but his wife, who had been a
    spectator to all that took place, said, “On my word, you are rightly
    served, for how could you for a moment think of shutting up a Lion
    along with you in your farmyard when you know that you shake in your
    shoes if you only hear his roar at a distance?”

    The Wolf and the Lion

    A WOLF, having stolen a lamb from a fold, was carrying him off to his
    lair. A Lion met him in the path, and seizing the lamb, took it from
    him. Standing at a safe distance, the Wolf exclaimed, “You have
    unrighteously taken that which was mine from me!” To which the Lion
    jeeringly replied, “It was righteously yours, eh? The gift of a
    friend?”

    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock

    A BIRDCATCHER was about to sit down to a dinner of herbs when a friend
    unexpectedly came in. The bird-trap was quite empty, as he had caught
    nothing, and he had to kill a pied Partridge, which he had tamed for a
    decoy. The bird entreated earnestly for his life: “What would you do
    without me when next you spread your nets? Who would chirp you to
    sleep, or call for you the covey of answering birds?” The Birdcatcher
    spared his life, and determined to pick out a fine young Cock just
    attaining to his comb. But the Cock expostulated in piteous tones from
    his perch: “If you kill me, who will announce to you the appearance of
    the dawn? Who will wake you to your daily tasks or tell you when it is
    time to visit the bird-trap in the morning?” He replied, “What you say
    is true. You are a capital bird at telling the time of day. But my
    friend and I must have our dinners.”

    Necessity knows no law.

    The Ant and the Dove

    AN ANT went to the bank of a river to quench its thirst, and being
    carried away by the rush of the stream, was on the point of drowning. A
    Dove sitting on a tree overhanging the water plucked a leaf and let it
    fall into the stream close to her. The Ant climbed onto it and floated
    in safety to the bank. Shortly afterwards a birdcatcher came and stood
    under the tree, and laid his lime-twigs for the Dove, which sat in the
    branches. The Ant, perceiving his design, stung him in the foot. In
    pain the birdcatcher threw down the twigs, and the noise made the Dove
    take wing.

    The Hares and the Frogs

    THE HARES, oppressed by their own exceeding timidity and weary of the
    perpetual alarm to which they were exposed, with one accord determined
    to put an end to themselves and their troubles by jumping from a lofty
    precipice into a deep lake below. As they scampered off in large
    numbers to carry out their resolve, the Frogs lying on the banks of the
    lake heard the noise of their feet and rushed helter-skelter to the
    deep water for safety. On seeing the rapid disappearance of the Frogs,
    one of the Hares cried out to his companions: “Stay, my friends, do not
    do as you intended; for you now see that there are creatures who are
    still more timid than ourselves.”

    The Monkey and the Fishermen

    A MONKEY perched upon a lofty tree saw some Fishermen casting their
    nets into a river, and narrowly watched their proceedings. The
    Fishermen after a while gave up fishing, and on going home to dinner
    left their nets upon the bank. The Monkey, who is the most imitative of
    animals, descended from the treetop and endeavored to do as they had
    done. Having handled the net, he threw it into the river, but became
    tangled in the meshes and drowned. With his last breath he said to
    himself, “I am rightly served; for what business had I who had never
    handled a net to try and catch fish?”

    The Swan and the Goose

    A CERTAIN rich man bought in the market a Goose and a Swan. He fed the
    one for his table and kept the other for the sake of its song. When the
    time came for killing the Goose, the cook went to get him at night,
    when it was dark, and he was not able to distinguish one bird from the
    other. By mistake he caught the Swan instead of the Goose. The Swan,
    threatened with death, burst forth into song and thus made himself
    known by his voice, and preserved his life by his melody.

    The Doe and the Lion

    A DOE hard pressed by hunters sought refuge in a cave belonging to a
    Lion. The Lion concealed himself on seeing her approach, but when she
    was safe within the cave, sprang upon her and tore her to pieces. “Woe
    is me,” exclaimed the Doe, “who have escaped from man, only to throw
    myself into the mouth of a wild beast?”

    In avoiding one evil, care must be taken not to fall into another.

    The Fisherman and the Little Fish

    A FISHERMAN who lived on the produce of his nets, one day caught a
    single small Fish as the result of his day’s labor. The Fish, panting
    convulsively, thus entreated for his life: “O Sir, what good can I be
    to you, and how little am I worth? I am not yet come to my full size.
    Pray spare my life, and put me back into the sea. I shall soon become a
    large fish fit for the tables of the rich, and then you can catch me
    again, and make a handsome profit of me.” The Fisherman replied, “I
    should indeed be a very simple fellow if, for the chance of a greater
    uncertain profit, I were to forego my present certain gain.”

    The Hunter and the Woodman

    A HUNTER, not very bold, was searching for the tracks of a Lion. He
    asked a man felling oaks in the forest if he had seen any marks of his
    footsteps or knew where his lair was. “I will,” said the man, “at once
    show you the Lion himself.” The Hunter, turning very pale and
    chattering with his teeth from fear, replied, “No, thank you. I did not
    ask that; it is his track only I am in search of, not the Lion
    himself.”

    The hero is brave in deeds as well as words.

    The Swollen Fox

    A VERY HUNGRY FOX, seeing some bread and meat left by shepherds in the
    hollow of an oak, crept into the hole and made a hearty meal. When he
    finished, he was so full that he was not able to get out, and began to
    groan and lament his fate. Another Fox passing by heard his cries, and
    coming up, inquired the cause of his complaining. On learning what had
    happened, he said to him, “Ah, you will have to remain there, my
    friend, until you become such as you were when you crept in, and then
    you will easily get out.”

    The Two Frogs

    TWO FROGS dwelt in the same pool. When the pool dried up under the
    summer’s heat, they left it and set out together for another home. As
    they went along they chanced to pass a deep well, amply supplied with
    water, and when they saw it, one of the Frogs said to the other, “Let
    us descend and make our abode in this well: it will furnish us with
    shelter and food.” The other replied with greater caution, “But suppose
    the water should fail us. How can we get out again from so great a
    depth?”

    Do nothing without a regard to the consequences.

    The Lamp

    A LAMP, soaked with too much oil and flaring brightly, boasted that it
    gave more light than the sun. Then a sudden puff of wind arose, and the
    Lamp was immediately extinguished. Its owner lit it again, and said:
    “Boast no more, but henceforth be content to give thy light in silence.
    Know that not even the stars need to be relit.”

    The Camel and the Arab

    AN ARAB Camel-driver, after completing the loading of his Camel, asked
    him which he would like best, to go up hill or down. The poor beast
    replied, not without a touch of reason: “Why do you ask me? Is it that
    the level way through the desert is closed?”

    The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass

    A MILLER and his son were driving their Ass to a neighboring fair to
    sell him. They had not gone far when they met with a troop of women
    collected round a well, talking and laughing. “Look there,” cried one
    of them, “did you ever see such fellows, to be trudging along the road
    on foot when they might ride?” The old man hearing this, quickly made
    his son mount the Ass, and continued to walk along merrily by his side.
    Presently they came up to a group of old men in earnest debate.
    “There,” said one of them, “it proves what I was a-saying. What respect
    is shown to old age in these days? Do you see that idle lad riding
    while his old father has to walk? Get down, you young scapegrace, and
    let the old man rest his weary limbs.” Upon this the old man made his
    son dismount, and got up himself. In this manner they had not proceeded
    far when they met a company of women and children: “Why, you lazy old
    fellow,” cried several tongues at once, “how can you ride upon the
    beast, while that poor little lad there can hardly keep pace by the
    side of you?” The good-natured Miller immediately took up his son
    behind him. They had now almost reached the town. “Pray, honest
    friend,” said a citizen, “is that Ass your own?” “Yes,” replied the old
    man. “O, one would not have thought so,” said the other, “by the way
    you load him. Why, you two fellows are better able to carry the poor
    beast than he you.” “Anything to please you,” said the old man; “we can
    but try.” So, alighting with his son, they tied the legs of the Ass
    together and with the help of a pole endeavored to carry him on their
    shoulders over a bridge near the entrance to the town. This
    entertaining sight brought the people in crowds to laugh at it, till
    the Ass, not liking the noise nor the strange handling that he was
    subject to, broke the cords that bound him and, tumbling off the pole,
    fell into the river. Upon this, the old man, vexed and ashamed, made
    the best of his way home again, convinced that by endeavoring to please
    everybody he had pleased nobody, and lost his Ass in the bargain.

    The Cat and the Mice

    A CERTAIN HOUSE was overrun with Mice. A Cat, discovering this, made
    her way into it and began to catch and eat them one by one. Fearing for
    their lives, the Mice kept themselves close in their holes. The Cat was
    no longer able to get at them and perceived that she must tempt them
    forth by some device. For this purpose she jumped upon a peg, and
    suspending herself from it, pretended to be dead. One of the Mice,
    peeping stealthily out, saw her and said, “Ah, my good madam, even
    though you should turn into a meal-bag, we will not come near you.”

    The Mouse and the Bull

    A BULL was bitten by a Mouse and, angered by the wound, tried to
    capture him. But the Mouse reached his hole in safety. Though the Bull
    dug into the walls with his horns, he tired before he could rout out
    the Mouse, and crouching down, went to sleep outside the hole. The
    Mouse peeped out, crept furtively up his flank, and again biting him,
    retreated to his hole. The Bull rising up, and not knowing what to do,
    was sadly perplexed. At which the Mouse said, “The great do not always
    prevail. There are times when the small and lowly are the strongest to
    do mischief.”

    The Dog and the Cook

    A RICH MAN gave a great feast, to which he invited many friends and
    acquaintances. His Dog availed himself of the occasion to invite a
    stranger Dog, a friend of his, saying, “My master gives a feast, and
    there is always much food remaining; come and sup with me tonight.” The
    Dog thus invited went at the hour appointed, and seeing the
    preparations for so grand an entertainment, said in the joy of his
    heart, “How glad I am that I came! I do not often get such a chance as
    this. I will take care and eat enough to last me both today and
    tomorrow.” While he was congratulating himself and wagging his tail to
    convey his pleasure to his friend, the Cook saw him moving about among
    his dishes and, seizing him by his fore and hind paws, bundled him
    without ceremony out of the window. He fell with force upon the ground
    and limped away, howling dreadfully. His yelling soon attracted other
    street dogs, who came up to him and inquired how he had enjoyed his
    supper. He replied, “Why, to tell you the truth, I drank so much wine
    that I remember nothing. I do not know how I got out of the house.”

    The Thieves and the Cock

    SOME THIEVES broke into a house and found nothing but a Cock, whom they
    stole, and got off as fast as they could. Upon arriving at home they
    prepared to kill the Cock, who thus pleaded for his life: “Pray spare
    me; I am very serviceable to men. I wake them up in the night to their
    work.” “That is the very reason why we must the more kill you,” they
    replied; “for when you wake your neighbors, you entirely put an end to
    our business.”

    The safeguards of virtue are hateful to those with evil intentions.

    The Dancing Monkeys

    A PRINCE had some Monkeys trained to dance. Being naturally great
    mimics of men’s actions, they showed themselves most apt pupils, and
    when arrayed in their rich clothes and masks, they danced as well as
    any of the courtiers. The spectacle was often repeated with great
    applause, till on one occasion a courtier, bent on mischief, took from
    his pocket a handful of nuts and threw them upon the stage. The Monkeys
    at the sight of the nuts forgot their dancing and became (as indeed
    they were) Monkeys instead of actors. Pulling off their masks and
    tearing their robes, they fought with one another for the nuts. The
    dancing spectacle thus came to an end amidst the laughter and ridicule
    of the audience.

    The Farmer and the Fox

    A FARMER, who bore a grudge against a Fox for robbing his poultry yard,
    caught him at last, and being determined to take an ample revenge, tied
    some rope well soaked in oil to his tail, and set it on fire. The Fox
    by a strange fatality rushed to the fields of the Farmer who had
    captured him. It was the time of the wheat harvest; but the Farmer
    reaped nothing that year and returned home grieving sorely.

    The Traveler and Fortune

    A TRAVELER wearied from a long journey lay down, overcome with fatigue,
    on the very brink of a deep well. Just as he was about to fall into the
    water, Dame Fortune, it is said, appeared to him and waking him from
    his slumber thus addressed him: “Good Sir, pray wake up: for if you
    fall into the well, the blame will be thrown on me, and I shall get an
    ill name among mortals; for I find that men are sure to impute their
    calamities to me, however much by their own folly they have really
    brought them on themselves.”

    Everyone is more or less master of his own fate.

    The Seagull and the Kite

    A SEAGULL having bolted down too large a fish, burst its deep
    gullet-bag and lay down on the shore to die. A Kite saw him and
    exclaimed: “You richly deserve your fate; for a bird of the air has no
    business to seek its food from the sea.”

    Every man should be content to mind his own business.

    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox

    A LION and a Bear seized a Kid at the same moment, and fought fiercely
    for its possession. When they had fearfully lacerated each other and
    were faint from the long combat, they lay down exhausted with fatigue.
    A Fox, who had gone round them at a distance several times, saw them
    both stretched on the ground with the Kid lying untouched in the
    middle. He ran in between them, and seizing the Kid scampered off as
    fast as he could. The Lion and the Bear saw him, but not being able to
    get up, said, “Woe be to us, that we should have fought and belabored
    ourselves only to serve the turn of a Fox.”

    It sometimes happens that one man has all the toil, and another all the
    profit.

    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury

    A PHILOSOPHER witnessed from the shore the shipwreck of a vessel, of
    which the crew and passengers were all drowned. He inveighed against
    the injustice of Providence, which would for the sake of one criminal
    perchance sailing in the ship allow so many innocent persons to perish.
    As he was indulging in these reflections, he found himself surrounded
    by a whole army of Ants, near whose nest he was standing. One of them
    climbed up and stung him, and he immediately trampled them all to death
    with his foot. Mercury presented himself, and striking the Philosopher
    with his wand, said, “And are you indeed to make yourself a judge of
    the dealings of Providence, who hast thyself in a similar manner
    treated these poor Ants?”

    The Peasant and the Eagle

    A PEASANT found an Eagle captured in a trap, and much admiring the
    bird, set him free. The Eagle did not prove ungrateful to his
    deliverer, for seeing the Peasant sitting under a wall which was not
    safe, he flew toward him and with his talons snatched a bundle from his
    head. When the Peasant rose in pursuit, the Eagle let the bundle fall
    again. Taking it up, the man returned to the same place, to find that
    the wall under which he had been sitting had fallen to pieces; and he
    marveled at the service rendered him by the Eagle.

    The Fox and the Leopard

    THE FOX and the Leopard disputed which was the more beautiful of the
    two. The Leopard exhibited one by one the various spots which decorated
    his skin. But the Fox, interrupting him, said, “And how much more
    beautiful than you am I, who am decorated, not in body, but in mind.”

    The Lion and the Hare

    A LION came across a Hare, who was fast asleep. He was just in the act
    of seizing her, when a fine young Hart trotted by, and he left the Hare
    to follow him. The Hare, scared by the noise, awoke and scudded away.
    The Lion was unable after a long chase to catch the Hart, and returned
    to feed upon the Hare. On finding that the Hare also had run off, he
    said, “I am rightly served, for having let go of the food that I had in
    my hand for the chance of obtaining more.”

    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter

    A VERY POOR MAN, a Carpenter by trade, had a wooden image of Mercury,
    before which he made offerings day by day, and begged the idol to make
    him rich, but in spite of his entreaties he became poorer and poorer.
    At last, being very angry, he took his image down from its pedestal and
    dashed it against the wall. When its head was knocked off, out came a
    stream of gold, which the Carpenter quickly picked up and said, “Well,
    I think thou art altogether contradictory and unreasonable; for when I
    paid you honour, I reaped no benefits: but now that I maltreat you I am
    loaded with an abundance of riches.”

    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass

    THE LION, the Fox and the Ass entered into an agreement to assist each
    other in the chase. Having secured a large booty, the Lion on their
    return from the forest asked the Ass to allot his due portion to each
    of the three partners in the treaty. The Ass carefully divided the
    spoil into three equal shares and modestly requested the two others to
    make the first choice. The Lion, bursting out into a great rage,
    devoured the Ass. Then he requested the Fox to do him the favour to
    make a division. The Fox accumulated all that they had killed into one
    large heap and left to himself the smallest possible morsel. The Lion
    said, “Who has taught you, my very excellent fellow, the art of
    division? You are perfect to a fraction.” He replied, “I learned it
    from the Ass, by witnessing his fate.”

    Happy is the man who learns from the misfortunes of others.

    The Bull and the Goat

    A BULL, escaping from a Lion, hid in a cave which some shepherds had
    recently occupied. As soon as he entered, a He-Goat left in the cave
    sharply attacked him with his horns. The Bull quietly addressed him:
    “Butt away as much as you will. I have no fear of you, but of the Lion.
    Let that monster go away and I will soon let you know what is the
    respective strength of a Goat and a Bull.”

    It shows an evil disposition to take advantage of a friend in distress.

    The Bald Knight

    A BALD KNIGHT, who wore a wig, went out to hunt. A sudden puff of wind
    blew off his hat and wig, at which a loud laugh rang forth from his
    companions. He pulled up his horse, and with great glee joined in the
    joke by saying, “What a marvel it is that hairs which are not mine
    should fly from me, when they have forsaken even the man on whose head
    they grew.”

    The Oaks and Jupiter

    THE OAKS presented a complaint to Jupiter, saying, “We bear for no
    purpose the burden of life, as of all the trees that grow we are the
    most continually in peril of the axe.” Jupiter made answer: “You have
    only to thank yourselves for the misfortunes to which you are exposed:
    for if you did not make such excellent pillars and posts, and prove
    yourselves so serviceable to the carpenters and the farmers, the axe
    would not so frequently be laid to your roots.”

    The Monkeys and Their Mother

    THE MONKEY, it is said, has two young ones at each birth. The Mother
    fondles one and nurtures it with the greatest affection and care, but
    hates and neglects the other. It happened once that the young one which
    was caressed and loved was smothered by the too great affection of the
    Mother, while the despised one was nurtured and reared in spite of the
    neglect to which it was exposed.

    The best intentions will not always ensure success.

    The Hare and the Hound

    A HOUND started a Hare from his lair, but after a long run, gave up the
    chase. A goat-herd seeing him stop, mocked him, saying “The little one
    is the best runner of the two.” The Hound replied, “You do not see the
    difference between us: I was only running for a dinner, but he for his
    life.”

    The Shepherd and the Dog

    A SHEPHERD penning his sheep in the fold for the night was about to
    shut up a wolf with them, when his Dog perceiving the wolf said,
    “Master, how can you expect the sheep to be safe if you admit a wolf
    into the fold?”

    The Oak and the Woodcutters

    THE WOODCUTTER cut down a Mountain Oak and split it in pieces, making
    wedges of its own branches for dividing the trunk. The Oak said with a
    sigh, “I do not care about the blows of the axe aimed at my roots, but
    I do grieve at being torn in pieces by these wedges made from my own
    branches.”

    Misfortunes springing from ourselves are the hardest to bear.

    The Wasp and the Snake

    A WASP seated himself upon the head of a Snake and, striking him
    unceasingly with his stings, wounded him to death. The Snake, being in
    great torment and not knowing how to rid himself of his enemy, saw a
    wagon heavily laden with wood, and went and purposely placed his head
    under the wheels, saying, “At least my enemy and I shall perish
    together.”

    The Peacock and the Crane

    A PEACOCK spreading its gorgeous tail mocked a Crane that passed by,
    ridiculing the ashen hue of its plumage and saying, “I am robed, like a
    king, in gold and purple and all the colors of the rainbow; while you
    have not a bit of color on your wings.” “True,” replied the Crane; “but
    I soar to the heights of heaven and lift up my voice to the stars,
    while you walk below, like a cock, among the birds of the dunghill.”

    Fine feathers don’t make fine birds.

    The Hen and the Golden Eggs

    A COTTAGER and his wife had a Hen that laid a golden egg every day.
    They supposed that the Hen must contain a great lump of gold in its
    inside, and in order to get the gold they killed it. Having done so,
    they found to their surprise that the Hen differed in no respect from
    their other hens. The foolish pair, thus hoping to become rich all at
    once, deprived themselves of the gain of which they were assured day by
    day.

    The Ass and the Frogs

    AN ASS, carrying a load of wood, passed through a pond. As he was
    crossing through the water he lost his footing, stumbled and fell, and
    not being able to rise on account of his load, groaned heavily. Some
    Frogs frequenting the pool heard his lamentation, and said, “What would
    you do if you had to live here always as we do, when you make such a
    fuss about a mere fall into the water?”

    Men often bear little grievances with less courage than they do large
    misfortunes.

    The Crow and the Raven

    A CROW was jealous of the Raven, because he was considered a bird of
    good omen and always attracted the attention of men, who noted by his
    flight the good or evil course of future events. Seeing some travelers
    approaching, the Crow flew up into a tree, and perching herself on one
    of the branches, cawed as loudly as she could. The travelers turned
    towards the sound and wondered what it foreboded, when one of them said
    to his companion, “Let us proceed on our journey, my friend, for it is
    only the caw of a crow, and her cry, you know, is no omen.”

    Those who assume a character which does not belong to them, only make
    themselves ridiculous.

    The Trees and the Axe

    A MAN came into a forest and asked the Trees to provide him a handle
    for his axe. The Trees consented to his request and gave him a young
    ash-tree. No sooner had the man fitted a new handle to his axe from it,
    than he began to use it and quickly felled with his strokes the noblest
    giants of the forest. An old oak, lamenting when too late the
    destruction of his companions, said to a neighboring cedar, “The first
    step has lost us all. If we had not given up the rights of the ash, we
    might yet have retained our own privileges and have stood for ages.”

    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs

    THE WOLVES thus addressed the Sheepdogs: “Why should you, who are like
    us in so many things, not be entirely of one mind with us, and live
    with us as brothers should? We differ from you in one point only. We
    live in freedom, but you bow down to and slave for men, who in return
    for your services flog you with whips and put collars on your necks.
    They make you also guard their sheep, and while they eat the mutton
    throw only the bones to you. If you will be persuaded by us, you will
    give us the sheep, and we will enjoy them in common, till we all are
    surfeited.” The Dogs listened favourably to these proposals, and,
    entering the den of the Wolves, they were set upon and torn to pieces.

    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter

    A BULL finding a lion’s cub asleep gored him to death with his horns.
    The Lioness came up, and bitterly lamented the death of her whelp. A
    wild-boar Hunter, seeing her distress, stood at a distance and said to
    her, “Think how many men there are who have reason to lament the loss
    of their children, whose deaths have been caused by you.”

    The Bowman and Lion

    A VERY SKILLFUL BOWMAN went to the mountains in search of game, but all
    the beasts of the forest fled at his approach. The Lion alone
    challenged him to combat. The Bowman immediately shot out an arrow and
    said to the Lion: “I send thee my messenger, that from him thou mayest
    learn what I myself shall be when I assail thee.” The wounded Lion
    rushed away in great fear, and when a Fox who had seen it all happen
    told him to be of good courage and not to back off at the first attack
    he replied: “You counsel me in vain; for if he sends so fearful a
    messenger, how shall I abide the attack of the man himself?”

    Be on guard against men who can strike from a distance.

    The Camel

    WHEN MAN first saw the Camel, he was so frightened at his vast size
    that he ran away. After a time, perceiving the meekness and gentleness
    of the beast’s temper, he summoned courage enough to approach him. Soon
    afterwards, observing that he was an animal altogether deficient in
    spirit, he assumed such boldness as to put a bridle in his mouth, and
    to let a child drive him.

    Use serves to overcome dread.

    The Crab and the Fox

    A CRAB, forsaking the seashore, chose a neighboring green meadow as its
    feeding ground. A Fox came across him, and being very hungry ate him
    up. Just as he was on the point of being eaten, the Crab said, “I well
    deserve my fate, for what business had I on the land, when by my nature
    and habits I am only adapted for the sea?”

    Contentment with our lot is an element of happiness.

    The Ass and the Old Shepherd

    A SHEPHERD, watching his Ass feeding in a meadow, was alarmed all of a
    sudden by the cries of the enemy. He appealed to the Ass to fly with
    him, lest they should both be captured, but the animal lazily replied,
    “Why should I, pray? Do you think it likely the conqueror will place on
    me two sets of panniers?” “No,” rejoined the Shepherd. “Then,” said the
    Ass, “as long as I carry the panniers, what matters it to me whom I
    serve?”

    In a change of government the poor change nothing beyond the name of
    their master.

    The Fox and the Hedgehog

    A FOX swimming across a rapid river was carried by the force of the
    current into a very deep ravine, where he lay for a long time very much
    bruised, sick, and unable to move. A swarm of hungry blood-sucking
    flies settled upon him. A Hedgehog, passing by, saw his anguish and
    inquired if he should drive away the flies that were tormenting him.
    “By no means,” replied the Fox; “pray do not molest them.” “How is
    this?” said the Hedgehog; “do you not want to be rid of them?” “No,”
    returned the Fox, “for these flies which you see are full of blood, and
    sting me but little, and if you rid me of these which are already
    satiated, others more hungry will come in their place, and will drink
    up all the blood I have left.”

    The Woman and Her Hen

    A WOMAN possessed a Hen that gave her an egg every day. She often
    pondered how she might obtain two eggs daily instead of one, and at
    last, to gain her purpose, determined to give the Hen a double
    allowance of barley. From that day the Hen became fat and sleek, and
    never once laid another egg.

    The Kites and the Swans

    TEE KITES of olden times, as well as the Swans, had the privilege of
    song. But having heard the neigh of the horse, they were so enchanted
    with the sound, that they tried to imitate it; and, in trying to neigh,
    they forgot how to sing.

    The desire for imaginary benefits often involves the loss of present
    blessings.

    The Dog and the Hare

    A HOUND having started a Hare on the hillside pursued her for some
    distance, at one time biting her with his teeth as if he would take her
    life, and at another fawning upon her, as if in play with another dog.
    The Hare said to him, “I wish you would act sincerely by me, and show
    yourself in your true colors. If you are a friend, why do you bite me
    so hard? If an enemy, why do you fawn on me?”

    No one can be a friend if you know not whether to trust or distrust
    him.

    The Hares and the Foxes

    THE HARES waged war with the Eagles, and called upon the Foxes to help
    them. They replied, “We would willingly have helped you, if we had not
    known who you were, and with whom you were fighting.”

    Count the cost before you commit yourselves.

    The Bull and the Calf

    A BULL was striving with all his might to squeeze himself through a
    narrow passage which led to his stall. A young Calf came up, and
    offered to go before and show him the way by which he could manage to
    pass. “Save yourself the trouble,” said the Bull; “I knew that way long
    before you were born.”

    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep

    A STAG asked a Sheep to lend him a measure of wheat, and said that the
    Wolf would be his surety. The Sheep, fearing some fraud was intended,
    excused herself, saying, “The Wolf is accustomed to seize what he wants
    and to run off; and you, too, can quickly outstrip me in your rapid
    flight. How then shall I be able to find you, when the day of payment
    comes?”

    Two blacks do not make one white.

    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow

    AN EAGLE made her nest at the top of a lofty oak; a Cat, having found a
    convenient hole, moved into the middle of the trunk; and a Wild Sow,
    with her young, took shelter in a hollow at its foot. The Cat cunningly
    resolved to destroy this chance-made colony. To carry out her design,
    she climbed to the nest of the Eagle, and said, “Destruction is
    preparing for you, and for me too, unfortunately. The Wild Sow, whom
    you see daily digging up the earth, wishes to uproot the oak, so she
    may on its fall seize our families as food for her young.” Having thus
    frightened the Eagle out of her senses, she crept down to the cave of
    the Sow, and said, “Your children are in great danger; for as soon as
    you go out with your litter to find food, the Eagle is prepared to
    pounce upon one of your little pigs.” Having instilled these fears into
    the Sow, she went and pretended to hide herself in the hollow of the
    tree. When night came she went forth with silent foot and obtained food
    for herself and her kittens, but feigning to be afraid, she kept a
    lookout all through the day. Meanwhile, the Eagle, full of fear of the
    Sow, sat still on the branches, and the Sow, terrified by the Eagle,
    did not dare to go out from her cave. And thus they both, along with
    their families, perished from hunger, and afforded ample provision for
    the Cat and her kittens.

    The Wolf and the Fox

    AT ONE TIME a very large and strong Wolf was born among the wolves, who
    exceeded all his fellow-wolves in strength, size, and swiftness, so
    that they unanimously decided to call him “Lion.” The Wolf, with a lack
    of sense proportioned to his enormous size, thought that they gave him
    this name in earnest, and, leaving his own race, consorted exclusively
    with the lions. An old sly Fox, seeing this, said, “May I never make
    myself so ridiculous as you do in your pride and self-conceit; for even
    though you have the size of a lion among wolves, in a herd of lions you
    are definitely a wolf.”

    The Mule

    A MULE, frolicsome from lack of work and from too much corn, galloped
    about in a very extravagant manner, and said to himself: “My father
    surely was a high-mettled racer, and I am his own child in speed and
    spirit.” On the next day, being driven a long journey, and feeling very
    wearied, he exclaimed in a disconsolate tone: “I must have made a
    mistake; my father, after all, could have been only an ass.”

    The Prophet

    A WIZARD, sitting in the marketplace, was telling the fortunes of the
    passers-by when a person ran up in great haste, and announced to him
    that the doors of his house had been broken open and that all his goods
    were being stolen. He sighed heavily and hastened away as fast as he
    could run. A neighbor saw him running and said, “Oh! you fellow there!
    you say you can foretell the fortunes of others; how is it you did not
    foresee your own?”

    The Two Frogs

    TWO FROGS were neighbors. One inhabited a deep pond, far removed from
    public view; the other lived in a gully containing little water, and
    traversed by a country road. The Frog that lived in the pond warned his
    friend to change his residence and entreated him to come and live with
    him, saying that he would enjoy greater safety from danger and more
    abundant food. The other refused, saying that he felt it so very hard
    to leave a place to which he had become accustomed. A few days
    afterwards a heavy wagon passed through the gully and crushed him to
    death under its wheels.

    A willful man will have his way to his own hurt.

    The Serpent and the Eagle

    A SERPENT and an Eagle were struggling with each other in deadly
    conflict. The Serpent had the advantage, and was about to strangle the
    bird. A countryman saw them, and running up, loosed the coil of the
    Serpent and let the Eagle go free. The Serpent, irritated at the escape
    of his prey, injected his poison into the drinking horn of the
    countryman. The rustic, ignorant of his danger, was about to drink,
    when the Eagle struck his hand with his wing, and, seizing the drinking
    horn in his talons, carried it aloft.

    The Crow and the Pitcher

    A CROW perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and hoping to find water,
    flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his grief
    that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get at it.
    He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all his
    efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he could
    carry and dropped them one by one with his beak into the pitcher, until
    he brought the water within his reach and thus saved his life.

    Necessity is the mother of invention.

    The Thief and the Innkeeper

    A THIEF hired a room in a tavern and stayed a while in the hope of
    stealing something which should enable him to pay his reckoning. When
    he had waited some days in vain, he saw the Innkeeper dressed in a new
    and handsome coat and sitting before his door. The Thief sat down
    beside him and talked with him. As the conversation began to flag, the
    Thief yawned terribly and at the same time howled like a wolf. The
    Innkeeper said, “Why do you howl so fearfully?” “I will tell you,” said
    the Thief, “but first let me ask you to hold my clothes, or I shall
    tear them to pieces. I know not, sir, when I got this habit of yawning,
    nor whether these attacks of howling were inflicted on me as a judgment
    for my crimes, or for any other cause; but this I do know, that when I
    yawn for the third time, I actually turn into a wolf and attack men.”
    With this speech he commenced a second fit of yawning and again howled
    like a wolf, as he had at first. The Innkeeper, hearing his tale and
    believing what he said, became greatly alarmed and, rising from his
    seat, attempted to run away. The Thief laid hold of his coat and
    entreated him to stop, saying, “Pray wait, sir, and hold my clothes, or
    I shall tear them to pieces in my fury, when I turn into a wolf.” At
    the same moment he yawned the third time and set up a terrible howl.
    The Innkeeper, frightened lest he should be attacked, left his new coat
    in the Thief’s hand and ran as fast as he could into the inn for
    safety. The Thief made off with the coat and did not return again to
    the inn.

    Every tale is not to be believed.

    The Hart and the Vine

    A HART, hard pressed in the chase, hid himself beneath the large leaves
    of a Vine. The huntsmen, in their haste, overshot the place of his
    concealment. Supposing all danger to have passed, the Hart began to
    nibble the tendrils of the Vine. One of the huntsmen, attracted by the
    rustling of the leaves, looked back, and seeing the Hart, shot an arrow
    from his bow and struck it. The Hart, at the point of death, groaned:
    “I am rightly served, for I should not have maltreated the Vine that
    saved me.”

    The Gnat and the Lion

    A GNAT came and said to a Lion, “I do not in the least fear you, nor
    are you stronger than I am. For in what does your strength consist? You
    can scratch with your claws and bite with your teeth an a woman in her
    quarrels. I repeat that I am altogether more powerful than you; and if
    you doubt it, let us fight and see who will conquer.” The Gnat, having
    sounded his horn, fastened himself upon the Lion and stung him on the
    nostrils and the parts of the face devoid of hair. While trying to
    crush him, the Lion tore himself with his claws, until he punished
    himself severely. The Gnat thus prevailed over the Lion, and, buzzing
    about in a song of triumph, flew away. But shortly afterwards he became
    entangled in the meshes of a cobweb and was eaten by a spider. He
    greatly lamented his fate, saying, “Woe is me! that I, who can wage war
    successfully with the hugest beasts, should perish myself from this
    spider, the most inconsiderable of insects!”

    The Fox and the Grapes

    A FAMISHED FOX saw some clusters of ripe black grapes hanging from a
    trellised vine. She resorted to all her tricks to get at them, but
    wearied herself in vain, for she could not reach them. At last she
    turned away, hiding her disappointment and saying: “The Grapes are
    sour, and not ripe as I thought.”

    The Walnut-Tree

    A WALNUT TREE standing by the roadside bore an abundant crop of fruit.
    For the sake of the nuts, the passers-by broke its branches with stones
    and sticks. The Walnut-Tree piteously exclaimed, “O wretched me! that
    those whom I cheer with my fruit should repay me with these painful
    requitals!”

    The Kid and the Wolf

    A KID, returning without protection from the pasture, was pursued by a
    Wolf. Seeing he could not escape, he turned round, and said: “I know,
    friend Wolf, that I must be your prey, but before I die I would ask of
    you one favour you will play me a tune to which I may dance.” The Wolf
    complied, and while he was piping and the Kid was dancing, some hounds
    hearing the sound ran up and began chasing the Wolf. Turning to the
    Kid, he said, “It is just what I deserve; for I, who am only a butcher,
    should not have turned piper to please you.”

    The Monkey and the Dolphin

    A SAILOR, bound on a long voyage, took with him a Monkey to amuse him
    while on shipboard. As he sailed off the coast of Greece, a violent
    tempest arose in which the ship was wrecked and he, his Monkey, and all
    the crew were obliged to swim for their lives. A Dolphin saw the Monkey
    contending with the waves, and supposing him to be a man (whom he is
    always said to befriend), came and placed himself under him, to convey
    him on his back in safety to the shore. When the Dolphin arrived with
    his burden in sight of land not far from Athens, he asked the Monkey if
    he were an Athenian. The latter replied that he was, and that he was
    descended from one of the most noble families in that city. The Dolphin
    then inquired if he knew the Piræus (the famous harbor of Athens).
    Supposing that a man was meant, the Monkey answered that he knew him
    very well and that he was an intimate friend. The Dolphin, indignant at
    these falsehoods, dipped the Monkey under the water and drowned him.

    The Horse and the Stag

    AT ONE TIME the Horse had the plain entirely to himself. Then a Stag
    intruded into his domain and shared his pasture. The Horse, desiring to
    revenge himself on the stranger, asked a man if he were willing to help
    him in punishing the Stag. The man replied that if the Horse would
    receive a bit in his mouth and agree to carry him, he would contrive
    effective weapons against the Stag. The Horse consented and allowed the
    man to mount him. From that hour he found that instead of obtaining
    revenge on the Stag, he had enslaved himself to the service of man.

    The Jackdaw and the Doves

    A JACKDAW, seeing some Doves in a cote abundantly provided with food,
    painted himself white and joined them in order to share their plentiful
    maintenance. The Doves, as long as he was silent, supposed him to be
    one of themselves and admitted him to their cote. But when one day he
    forgot himself and began to chatter, they discovered his true character
    and drove him forth, pecking him with their beaks. Failing to obtain
    food among the Doves, he returned to the Jackdaws. They too, not
    recognizing him on account of his color, expelled him from living with
    them. So desiring two ends, he obtained neither.

    The Fox and the Monkey

    A FOX and a Monkey were traveling together on the same road. As they
    journeyed, they passed through a cemetery full of monuments. “All these
    monuments which you see,” said the Monkey, “are erected in honour of my
    ancestors, who were in their day freedmen and citizens of great
    renown.” The Fox replied, “You have chosen a most appropriate subject
    for your falsehoods, as I am sure none of your ancestors will be able
    to contradict you.”

    A false tale often betrays itself.

    The Man and His Wife

    A MAN had a Wife who made herself hated by all the members of his
    household. Wishing to find out if she had the same effect on the
    persons in her father’s house, he made some excuse to send her home on
    a visit to her father. After a short time she returned, and when he
    inquired how she had got on and how the servants had treated her, she
    replied, “The herdsmen and shepherds cast on me looks of aversion.” He
    said, “O Wife, if you were disliked by those who go out early in the
    morning with their flocks and return late in the evening, what must
    have been felt towards you by those with whom you passed the whole
    day!”

    Straws show how the wind blows.

    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog

    A HORSE, Ox, and Dog, driven to great straits by the cold, sought
    shelter and protection from Man. He received them kindly, lighted a
    fire, and warmed them. He let the Horse make free with his oats, gave
    the Ox an abundance of hay, and fed the Dog with meat from his own
    table. Grateful for these favours, the animals determined to repay him
    to the best of their ability. For this purpose, they divided the term
    of his life between them, and each endowed one portion of it with the
    qualities which chiefly characterized himself. The Horse chose his
    earliest years and gave them his own attributes: hence every man is in
    his youth impetuous, headstrong, and obstinate in maintaining his own
    opinion. The Ox took under his patronage the next term of life, and
    therefore man in his middle age is fond of work, devoted to labor, and
    resolute to amass wealth and to husband his resources. The end of life
    was reserved for the Dog, wherefore the old man is often snappish,
    irritable, hard to please, and selfish, tolerant only of his own
    household, but averse to strangers and to all who do not administer to
    his comfort or to his necessities.

    The Thief and the Housedog

    A THIEF came in the night to break into a house. He brought with him
    several slices of meat in order to pacify the Housedog, so that he
    would not alarm his master by barking. As the Thief threw him the
    pieces of meat, the Dog said, “If you think to stop my mouth, you will
    be greatly mistaken. This sudden kindness at your hands will only make
    me more watchful, lest under these unexpected favours to myself, you
    have some private ends to accomplish for your own benefit, and for my
    master’s injury.”

    The Apes and the Two Travelers

    TWO MEN, one who always spoke the truth and the other who told nothing
    but lies, were traveling together and by chance came to the land of
    Apes. One of the Apes, who had raised himself to be king, commanded
    them to be seized and brought before him, that he might know what was
    said of him among men. He ordered at the same time that all the Apes be
    arranged in a long row on his right hand and on his left, and that a
    throne be placed for him, as was the custom among men. After these
    preparations he signified that the two men should be brought before
    him, and greeted them with this salutation: “What sort of a king do I
    seem to you to be, O strangers?” The Lying Traveler replied, “You seem
    to me a most mighty king.” “And what is your estimate of those you see
    around me?” “These,” he made answer, “are worthy companions of
    yourself, fit at least to be ambassadors and leaders of armies.” The
    Ape and all his court, gratified with the lie, commanded that a
    handsome present be given to the flatterer. On this the truthful
    Traveler thought to himself, “If so great a reward be given for a lie,
    with what gift may not I be rewarded, if, according to my custom, I
    tell the truth?” The Ape quickly turned to him. “And pray how do I and
    these my friends around me seem to you?” “Thou art,” he said, “a most
    excellent Ape, and all these thy companions after thy example are
    excellent Apes too.” The King of the Apes, enraged at hearing these
    truths, gave him over to the teeth and claws of his companions.

    The Fox and the Lion

    WHEN A FOX who had never yet seen a Lion, fell in with him by chance
    for the first time in the forest, he was so frightened that he nearly
    died with fear. On meeting him for the second time, he was still much
    alarmed, but not to the same extent as at first. On seeing him the
    third time, he so increased in boldness that he went up to him and
    commenced a familiar conversation with him.

    Acquaintance softens prejudices.

    The Weasel and the Mice

    A WEASEL, inactive from age and infirmities, was not able to catch mice
    as he once did. He therefore rolled himself in flour and lay down in a
    dark corner. A Mouse, supposing him to be food, leaped upon him, and
    was instantly caught and squeezed to death. Another perished in a
    similar manner, and then a third, and still others after them. A very
    old Mouse, who had escaped many a trap and snare, observed from a safe
    distance the trick of his crafty foe and said, “Ah! you that lie there,
    may you prosper just in the same proportion as you are what you pretend
    to be!”

    The Boy Bathing

    A BOY bathing in a river was in danger of being drowned. He called out
    to a passing traveler for help, but instead of holding out a helping
    hand, the man stood by unconcernedly, and scolded the boy for his
    imprudence. “Oh, sir!” cried the youth, “pray help me now and scold me
    afterwards.”

    Counsel without help is useless.

    The Peacock and Juno

    THE PEACOCK made complaint to Juno that, while the nightingale pleased
    every ear with his song, he himself no sooner opened his mouth than he
    became a laughingstock to all who heard him. The Goddess, to console
    him, said, “But you far excel in beauty and in size. The splendor of
    the emerald shines in your neck and you unfold a tail gorgeous with
    painted plumage.” “But for what purpose have I,” said the bird, “this
    dumb beauty so long as I am surpassed in song?” “The lot of each,”
    replied Juno, “has been assigned by the will of the Fates—to thee,
    beauty; to the eagle, strength; to the nightingale, song; to the raven,
    favourable, and to the crow, unfavourable auguries. These are all
    contented with the endowments allotted to them.”

    The Wolf and the Shepherd

    A WOLF followed a flock of sheep for a long time and did not attempt to
    injure one of them. The Shepherd at first stood on his guard against
    him, as against an enemy, and kept a strict watch over his movements.
    But when the Wolf, day after day, kept in the company of the sheep and
    did not make the slightest effort to seize them, the Shepherd began to
    look upon him as a guardian of his flock rather than as a plotter of
    evil against it; and when occasion called him one day into the city, he
    left the sheep entirely in his charge. The Wolf, now that he had the
    opportunity, fell upon the sheep, and destroyed the greater part of the
    flock. When the Shepherd returned to find his flock destroyed, he
    exclaimed: “I have been rightly served; why did I trust my sheep to a
    Wolf?”

    The Hares and the Lions

    THE HARES harangued the assembly, and argued that all should be equal.
    The Lions made this reply: “Your words, O Hares! are good; but they
    lack both claws and teeth such as we have.”

    The Seller of Images

    A CERTAIN MAN made a wooden image of Mercury and offered it for sale.
    When no one appeared willing to buy it, in order to attract purchasers,
    he cried out that he had the statue to sell of a benefactor who
    bestowed wealth and helped to heap up riches. One of the bystanders
    said to him, “My good fellow, why do you sell him, being such a one as
    you describe, when you may yourself enjoy the good things he has to
    give?” “Why,” he replied, “I am in need of immediate help, and he is
    wont to give his good gifts very slowly.”

    The Hawk and the Nightingale

    A NIGHTINGALE, sitting aloft upon an oak and singing according to his
    wont, was seen by a Hawk who, being in need of food, swooped down and
    seized him. The Nightingale, about to lose his life, earnestly begged
    the Hawk to let him go, saying that he was not big enough to satisfy
    the hunger of a Hawk who, if he wanted food, ought to pursue the larger
    birds. The Hawk, interrupting him, said: “I should indeed have lost my
    senses if I should let go food ready in my hand, for the sake of
    pursuing birds which are not yet even within sight.”

    The Lark and Her Young Ones

    A LARK had made her nest in the early spring on the young green wheat.
    The brood had almost grown to their full strength and attained the use
    of their wings and the full plumage of their feathers, when the owner
    of the field, looking over his ripe crop, said, “The time has come when
    I must ask all my neighbors to help me with my harvest.” One of the
    young Larks heard his speech and related it to his mother, inquiring of
    her to what place they should move for safety. “There is no occasion to
    move yet, my son,” she replied; “the man who only sends to his friends
    to help him with his harvest is not really in earnest.” The owner of
    the field came again a few days later and saw the wheat shedding the
    grain from excess of ripeness. He said, “I will come myself tomorrow
    with my laborers, and with as many reapers as I can hire, and will get
    in the harvest.” The Lark on hearing these words said to her brood, “It
    is time now to be off, my little ones, for the man is in earnest this
    time; he no longer trusts his friends, but will reap the field
    himself.”

    Self-help is the best help.

    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox

    A DOG and a Cock being great friends, agreed to travel together. At
    nightfall they took shelter in a thick wood. The Cock flying up,
    perched himself on the branches of a tree, while the Dog found a bed
    beneath in the hollow trunk. When the morning dawned, the Cock, as
    usual, crowed very loudly several times. A Fox heard the sound, and
    wishing to make a breakfast on him, came and stood under the branches,
    saying how earnestly he desired to make the acquaintance of the owner
    of so magnificent a voice. The Cock, suspecting his civilities, said:
    “Sir, I wish you would do me the favour of going around to the hollow
    trunk below me, and waking my porter, so that he may open the door and
    let you in.” When the Fox approached the tree, the Dog sprang out and
    caught him, and tore him to pieces.

    The Geese and the Cranes

    THE GEESE and the Cranes were feeding in the same meadow, when a
    birdcatcher came to ensnare them in his nets. The Cranes, being light
    of wing, fled away at his approach; while the Geese, being slower of
    flight and heavier in their bodies, were captured.

    The Ass and the Wolf

    AN ASS feeding in a meadow saw a Wolf approaching to seize him, and
    immediately pretended to be lame. The Wolf, coming up, inquired the
    cause of his lameness. The Ass replied that passing through a hedge he
    had trod with his foot upon a sharp thorn. He requested that the Wolf
    pull it out, lest when he ate him it should injure his throat. The Wolf
    consented and lifted up the foot, and was giving his whole mind to the
    discovery of the thorn, when the Ass, with his heels, kicked his teeth
    into his mouth and galloped away. The Wolf, being thus fearfully
    mauled, said, “I am rightly served, for why did I attempt the art of
    healing, when my father only taught me the trade of a butcher?”

    The Goat and the Ass

    A MAN once kept a Goat and an Ass. The Goat, envying the Ass on account
    of his greater abundance of food, said, “How shamefully you are
    treated: at one time grinding in the mill, and at another carrying
    heavy burdens;” and he further advised him to pretend to be epileptic
    and fall into a ditch and so obtain rest. The Ass listened to his
    words, and falling into a ditch, was very much bruised. His master,
    sending for a leech, asked his advice. He bade him pour upon the wounds
    the lungs of a Goat. They at once killed the Goat, and so healed the
    Ass.

    The Lion and the Bull

    A LION, greatly desiring to capture a Bull, and yet afraid to attack
    him on account of his great size, resorted to a trick to ensure his
    destruction. He approached the Bull and said, “I have slain a fine
    sheep, my friend; and if you will come home and partake of him with me,
    I shall be delighted to have your company.” The Lion said this in the
    hope that, as the Bull was in the act of reclining to eat, he might
    attack him to advantage, and make his meal on him. The Bull, on
    approaching the Lion’s den, saw the huge spits and giant caldrons, and
    no sign whatever of the sheep, and, without saying a word, quietly took
    his departure. The Lion inquired why he went off so abruptly without a
    word of salutation to his host, who had not given him any cause for
    offense. “I have reasons enough,” said the Bull. “I see no indication
    whatever of your having slaughtered a sheep, while I do see very
    plainly every preparation for your dining on a bull.”

    The Fox and the Mask

    A FOX entered the house of an actor and, rummaging through all his
    properties, came upon a Mask, an admirable imitation of a human head.
    He placed his paws on it and said, “What a beautiful head! Yet it is of
    no value, as it entirely lacks brains.”

    The Grasshopper and the Owl

    AN OWL, accustomed to feed at night and to sleep during the day, was
    greatly disturbed by the noise of a Grasshopper and earnestly besought
    her to stop chirping. The Grasshopper refused to desist, and chirped
    louder and louder the more the Owl entreated. When she saw that she
    could get no redress and that her words were despised, the Owl attacked
    the chatterer by a stratagem. “Since I cannot sleep,” she said, “on
    account of your song which, believe me, is sweet as the lyre of Apollo,
    I shall indulge myself in drinking some nectar which Pallas lately gave
    me. If you do not dislike it, come to me and we will drink it
    together.” The Grasshopper, who was thirsty, and pleased with the
    praise of her voice, eagerly flew up. The Owl came forth from her
    hollow, seized her, and put her to death.

    The Fowler and the Viper

    A FOWLER, taking his bird-lime and his twigs, went out to catch birds.
    Seeing a thrush sitting upon a tree, he wished to take it, and fitting
    his twigs to a proper length, watched intently, having his whole
    thoughts directed towards the sky. While thus looking upwards, he
    unknowingly trod upon a Viper asleep just before his feet. The Viper,
    turning about, stung him, and falling into a swoon, the man said to
    himself, “Woe is me! that while I purposed to hunt another, I am myself
    fallen unawares into the snares of death.”

    The Horse and the Ass

    A HORSE, proud of his fine trappings, met an Ass on the highway. The
    Ass, being heavily laden, moved slowly out of the way. “Hardly,” said
    the Horse, “can I resist kicking you with my heels.” The Ass held his
    peace, and made only a silent appeal to the justice of the gods. Not
    long afterwards the Horse, having become broken-winded, was sent by his
    owner to the farm. The Ass, seeing him drawing a dungcart, thus derided
    him: “Where, O boaster, are now all thy gay trappings, thou who are
    thyself reduced to the condition you so lately treated with contempt?”

    The Lion and the Three Bulls

    THREE BULLS for a long time pastured together. A Lion lay in ambush in
    the hope of making them his prey, but was afraid to attack them while
    they kept together. Having at last by guileful speeches succeeded in
    separating them, he attacked them without fear as they fed alone, and
    feasted on them one by one at his own leisure.

    Union is strength.

    The Wolf and the Goat

    A WOLF saw a Goat feeding at the summit of a steep precipice, where he
    had no chance of reaching her. He called to her and earnestly begged
    her to come lower down, lest she fall by some mishap; and he added that
    the meadows lay where he was standing, and that the herbage was most
    tender. She replied, “No, my friend, it is not for the pasture that you
    invite me, but for yourself, who are in want of food.”

    The Fly and the Draught-Mule

    A FLY sat on the axle-tree of a chariot, and addressing the
    Draught-Mule said, “How slow you are! Why do you not go faster? See if
    I do not prick your neck with my sting.” The Draught-Mule replied, “I
    do not heed your threats; I only care for him who sits above you, and
    who quickens my pace with his whip, or holds me back with the reins.
    Away, therefore, with your insolence, for I know well when to go fast,
    and when to go slow.”

    The Fishermen

    SOME FISHERMEN were out trawling their nets. Perceiving them to be very
    heavy, they danced about for joy and supposed that they had taken a
    large catch. When they had dragged the nets to the shore they found but
    few fish: the nets were full of sand and stones, and the men were
    beyond measure cast down so much at the disappointment which had
    befallen them, but because they had formed such very different
    expectations. One of their company, an old man, said, “Let us cease
    lamenting, my mates, for, as it seems to me, sorrow is always the twin
    sister of joy; and it was only to be looked for that we, who just now
    were over-rejoiced, should next have something to make us sad.”

    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse

    A COUNTRY MOUSE invited a Town Mouse, an intimate friend, to pay him a
    visit and partake of his country fare. As they were on the bare
    plowlands, eating there wheat-stocks and roots pulled up from the
    hedgerow, the Town Mouse said to his friend, “You live here the life of
    the ants, while in my house is the horn of plenty. I am surrounded by
    every luxury, and if you will come with me, as I wish you would, you
    shall have an ample share of my dainties.” The Country Mouse was easily
    persuaded, and returned to town with his friend. On his arrival, the
    Town Mouse placed before him bread, barley, beans, dried figs, honey,
    raisins, and, last of all, brought a dainty piece of cheese from a
    basket. The Country Mouse, being much delighted at the sight of such
    good cheer, expressed his satisfaction in warm terms and lamented his
    own hard fate. Just as they were beginning to eat, someone opened the
    door, and they both ran off squeaking, as fast as they could, to a hole
    so narrow that two could only find room in it by squeezing. They had
    scarcely begun their repast again when someone else entered to take
    something out of a cupboard, whereupon the two Mice, more frightened
    than before, ran away and hid themselves. At last the Country Mouse,
    almost famished, said to his friend: “Although you have prepared for me
    so dainty a feast, I must leave you to enjoy it by yourself. It is
    surrounded by too many dangers to please me. I prefer my bare plowlands
    and roots from the hedgerow, where I can live in safety, and without
    fear.”

    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape

    A WOLF accused a Fox of theft, but the Fox entirely denied the charge.
    An Ape undertook to adjudge the matter between them. When each had
    fully stated his case the Ape announced this sentence: “I do not think
    you, Wolf, ever lost what you claim; and I do believe you, Fox, to have
    stolen what you so stoutly deny.”

    The dishonest, if they act honestly, get no credit.

    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer

    THE WASPS and the Partridges, overcome with thirst, came to a Farmer
    and besought him to give them some water to drink. They promised amply
    to repay him the favour which they asked. The Partridges declared that
    they would dig around his vines and make them produce finer grapes. The
    Wasps said that they would keep guard and drive off thieves with their
    stings. But the Farmer interrupted them, saying: “I have already two
    oxen, who, without making any promises, do all these things. It is
    surely better for me to give the water to them than to you.”

    The Brother and the Sister

    A FATHER had one son and one daughter, the former remarkable for his
    good looks, the latter for her extraordinary ugliness. While they were
    playing one day as children, they happened by chance to look together
    into a mirror that was placed on their mother’s chair. The boy
    congratulated himself on his good looks; the girl grew angry, and could
    not bear the self-praises of her Brother, interpreting all he said (and
    how could she do otherwise?) into reflection on herself. She ran off to
    her father, to be avenged on her Brother, and spitefully accused him of
    having, as a boy, made use of that which belonged only to girls. The
    father embraced them both, and bestowing his kisses and affection
    impartially on each, said, “I wish you both would look into the mirror
    every day: you, my son, that you may not spoil your beauty by evil
    conduct; and you, my daughter, that you may make up for your lack of
    beauty by your virtues.”

    The Dogs and the Fox

    SOME DOGS, finding the skin of a lion, began to tear it in pieces with
    their teeth. A Fox, seeing them, said, “If this lion were alive, you
    would soon find out that his claws were stronger than your teeth.”

    It is easy to kick a man that is down.

    The Blind Man and the Whelp

    A BLIND MAN was accustomed to distinguishing different animals by
    touching them with his hands. The whelp of a Wolf was brought him, with
    a request that he would feel it, and say what it was. He felt it, and
    being in doubt, said: “I do not quite know whether it is the cub of a
    Fox, or the whelp of a Wolf, but this I know full well. It would not be
    safe to admit him to the sheepfold.”

    Evil tendencies are shown in early life.

    The Cobbler Turned Doctor

    A COBBLER unable to make a living by his trade and made desperate by
    poverty, began to practice medicine in a town in which he was not
    known. He sold a drug, pretending that it was an antidote to all
    poisons, and obtained a great name for himself by long-winded puffs and
    advertisements. When the Cobbler happened to fall sick himself of a
    serious illness, the Governor of the town determined to test his skill.
    For this purpose he called for a cup, and while filling it with water,
    pretended to mix poison with the Cobbler’s antidote, commanding him to
    drink it on the promise of a reward. The Cobbler, under the fear of
    death, confessed that he had no knowledge of medicine, and was only
    made famous by the stupid clamors of the crowd. The Governor then
    called a public assembly and addressed the citizens: “Of what folly
    have you been guilty? You have not hesitated to entrust your heads to a
    man, whom no one could employ to make even the shoes for their feet.”

    The Wolf and the Horse

    A WOLF coming out of a field of oats met a Horse and thus addressed
    him: “I would advise you to go into that field. It is full of fine
    oats, which I have left untouched for you, as you are a friend whom I
    would love to hear enjoying good eating.” The Horse replied, “If oats
    had been the food of wolves, you would never have indulged your ears at
    the cost of your belly.”

    Men of evil reputation, when they perform a good deed, fail to get
    credit for it.

    The Two Men Who Were Enemies

    TWO MEN, deadly enemies to each other, were sailing in the same vessel.
    Determined to keep as far apart as possible, the one seated himself in
    the stem, and the other in the prow of the ship. A violent storm arose,
    and with the vessel in great danger of sinking, the one in the stern
    inquired of the pilot which of the two ends of the ship would go down
    first. On his replying that he supposed it would be the prow, the Man
    said, “Death would not be grievous to me, if I could only see my Enemy
    die before me.”

    The Gamecocks and the Partridge

    A MAN had two Gamecocks in his poultry-yard. One day by chance he found
    a tame Partridge for sale. He purchased it and brought it home to be
    reared with his Gamecocks. When the Partridge was put into the
    poultry-yard, they struck at it and followed it about, so that the
    Partridge became grievously troubled and supposed that he was thus
    evilly treated because he was a stranger. Not long afterwards he saw
    the Cocks fighting together and not separating before one had well
    beaten the other. He then said to himself, “I shall no longer distress
    myself at being struck at by these Gamecocks, when I see that they
    cannot even refrain from quarreling with each other.”

    The Fox and the Lion

    A FOX saw a Lion confined in a cage, and standing near him, bitterly
    reviled him. The Lion said to the Fox, “It is not thou who revilest me;
    but this mischance which has befallen me.”

    The Quack Frog

    A FROG once upon a time came forth from his home in the marsh and
    proclaimed to all the beasts that he was a learned physician, skilled
    in the use of drugs and able to heal all diseases. A Fox asked him,
    “How can you pretend to prescribe for others, when you are unable to
    heal your own lame gait and wrinkled skin?”

    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox

    A LION, growing old, lay sick in his cave. All the beasts came to visit
    their king, except the Fox. The Wolf therefore, thinking that he had a
    capital opportunity, accused the Fox to the Lion of not paying any
    respect to him who had the rule over them all and of not coming to
    visit him. At that very moment the Fox came in and heard these last
    words of the Wolf. The Lion roaring out in a rage against him, the Fox
    sought an opportunity to defend himself and said, “And who of all those
    who have come to you have benefited you so much as I, who have traveled
    from place to place in every direction, and have sought and learnt from
    the physicians the means of healing you?” The Lion commanded him
    immediately to tell him the cure, when he replied, “You must flay a
    wolf alive and wrap his skin yet warm around you.” The Wolf was at once
    taken and flayed; whereon the Fox, turning to him, said with a smile,
    “You should have moved your master not to ill, but to good, will.”

    The Dog’s House

    IN THE WINTERTIME, a Dog curled up in as small a space as possible on
    account of the cold, determined to make himself a house. However when
    the summer returned again, he lay asleep stretched at his full length
    and appeared to himself to be of a great size. Now he considered that
    it would be neither an easy nor a necessary work to make himself such a
    house as would accommodate him.

    The North Wind and the Sun

    THE NORTH WIND and the Sun disputed as to which was the most powerful,
    and agreed that he should be declared the victor who could first strip
    a wayfaring man of his clothes. The North Wind first tried his power
    and blew with all his might, but the keener his blasts, the closer the
    Traveler wrapped his cloak around him, until at last, resigning all
    hope of victory, the Wind called upon the Sun to see what he could do.
    The Sun suddenly shone out with all his warmth. The Traveler no sooner
    felt his genial rays than he took off one garment after another, and at
    last, fairly overcome with heat, undressed and bathed in a stream that
    lay in his path.

    Persuasion is better than Force.

    The Crow and Mercury

    A CROW caught in a snare prayed to Apollo to release him, making a vow
    to offer some frankincense at his shrine. But when rescued from his
    danger, he forgot his promise. Shortly afterwards, again caught in a
    snare, he passed by Apollo and made the same promise to offer
    frankincense to Mercury. Mercury soon appeared and said to him, “O thou
    most base fellow? how can I believe thee, who hast disowned and wronged
    thy former patron?”

    The Fox and the Crane

    A FOX invited a Crane to supper and provided nothing for his
    entertainment but some soup made of pulse, which was poured out into a
    broad flat stone dish. The soup fell out of the long bill of the Crane
    at every mouthful, and his vexation at not being able to eat afforded
    the Fox much amusement. The Crane, in his turn, asked the Fox to sup
    with him, and set before her a flagon with a long narrow mouth, so that
    he could easily insert his neck and enjoy its contents at his leisure.
    The Fox, unable even to taste it, met with a fitting requital, after
    the fashion of her own hospitality.

    The Wolf and the Lion

    ROAMING BY the mountainside at sundown, a Wolf saw his own shadow
    become greatly extended and magnified, and he said to himself, “Why
    should I, being of such an immense size and extending nearly an acre in
    length, be afraid of the Lion? Ought I not to be acknowledged as King
    of all the collected beasts?” While he was indulging in these proud
    thoughts, a Lion fell upon him and killed him. He exclaimed with a too
    late repentance, “Wretched me! this overestimation of myself is the
    cause of my destruction.”

    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat

    THE BIRDS waged war with the Beasts, and each were by turns the
    conquerors. A Bat, fearing the uncertain issues of the fight, always
    fought on the side which he felt was the strongest. When peace was
    proclaimed, his deceitful conduct was apparent to both combatants.
    Therefore being condemned by each for his treachery, he was driven
    forth from the light of day, and henceforth concealed himself in dark
    hiding-places, flying always alone and at night.

    The Spendthrift and the Swallow

    A YOUNG MAN, a great spendthrift, had run through all his patrimony and
    had but one good cloak left. One day he happened to see a Swallow,
    which had appeared before its season, skimming along a pool and
    twittering gaily. He supposed that summer had come, and went and sold
    his cloak. Not many days later, winter set in again with renewed frost
    and cold. When he found the unfortunate Swallow lifeless on the ground,
    he said, “Unhappy bird! what have you done? By thus appearing before
    the springtime you have not only killed yourself, but you have wrought
    my destruction also.”

    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner

    A TRUMPETER, bravely leading on the soldiers, was captured by the
    enemy. He cried out to his captors, “Pray spare me, and do not take my
    life without cause or without inquiry. I have not slain a single man of
    your troop. I have no arms, and carry nothing but this one brass
    trumpet.” “That is the very reason for which you should be put to
    death,” they said; “for, while you do not fight yourself, your trumpet
    stirs all the others to battle.”

    The Owl and the Birds

    AN OWL, in her wisdom, counseled the Birds that when the acorn first
    began to sprout, to pull it all up out of the ground and not allow it
    to grow. She said acorns would produce mistletoe, from which an
    irremediable poison, the bird-lime, would be extracted and by which
    they would be captured. The Owl next advised them to pluck up the seed
    of the flax, which men had sown, as it was a plant which boded no good
    to them. And, lastly, the Owl, seeing an archer approach, predicted
    that this man, being on foot, would contrive darts armed with feathers
    which would fly faster than the wings of the Birds themselves. The
    Birds gave no credence to these warning words, but considered the Owl
    to be beside herself and said that she was mad. But afterwards, finding
    her words were true, they wondered at her knowledge and deemed her to
    be the wisest of birds. Hence it is that when she appears they look to
    her as knowing all things, while she no longer gives them advice, but
    in solitude laments their past folly.

    The Goods and the Ills

    ALL the Goods were once driven out by the Ills from that common share
    which they each had in the affairs of mankind; for the Ills by reason
    of their numbers had prevailed to possess the earth. The Goods wafted
    themselves to heaven and asked for a righteous vengeance on their
    persecutors. They entreated Jupiter that they might no longer be
    associated with the Ills, as they had nothing in common and could not
    live together, but were engaged in unceasing warfare; and that an
    indissoluble law might be laid down for their future protection.
    Jupiter granted their request and decreed that henceforth the Ills
    should visit the earth in company with each other, but that the Goods
    should one by one enter the habitations of men. Hence it arises that
    Ills abound, for they come not one by one, but in troops, and by no
    means singly: while the Goods proceed from Jupiter, and are given, not
    alike to all, but singly, and separately; and one by one to those who
    are able to discern them.

    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin

    AN ASS, having put on the Lion’s skin, roamed about in the forest and
    amused himself by frightening all the foolish animals he met in his
    wanderings. At last coming upon a Fox, he tried to frighten him also,
    but the Fox no sooner heard the sound of his voice than he exclaimed,
    “I might possibly have been frightened myself, if I had not heard your
    bray.”

    The Sparrow and the Hare

    A HARE pounced upon by an eagle sobbed very much and uttered cries like
    a child. A Sparrow upbraided her and said, “Where now is thy remarkable
    swiftness of foot? Why were your feet so slow?” While the Sparrow was
    thus speaking, a hawk suddenly seized him and killed him. The Hare was
    comforted in her death, and expiring said, “Ah! you who so lately, when
    you supposed yourself safe, exulted over my calamity, have now reason
    to deplore a similar misfortune.”

    The Flea and the Ox

    A FLEA thus questioned an Ox: “What ails you, that being so huge and
    strong, you submit to the wrongs you receive from men and slave for
    them day by day, while I, being so small a creature, mercilessly feed
    on their flesh and drink their blood without stint?” The Ox replied: “I
    do not wish to be ungrateful, for I am loved and well cared for by men,
    and they often pat my head and shoulders.” “Woe’s me!” said the flea;
    “this very patting which you like, whenever it happens to me, brings
    with it my inevitable destruction.”

    The Ass and His Purchaser

    A MAN wished to purchase an Ass, and agreed with its owner that he
    should try out the animal before he bought him. He took the Ass home
    and put him in the straw-yard with his other Asses, upon which the new
    animal left all the others and at once joined the one that was most
    idle and the greatest eater of them all. Seeing this, the man put a
    halter on him and led him back to his owner. On being asked how, in so
    short a time, he could have made a trial of him, he answered, “I do not
    need a trial; I know that he will be just the same as the one he chose
    for his companion.”

    A man is known by the company he keeps.

    The Dove and the Crow

    A DOVE shut up in a cage was boasting of the large number of young ones
    which she had hatched. A Crow hearing her, said: “My good friend, cease
    from this unseasonable boasting. The larger the number of your family,
    the greater your cause of sorrow, in seeing them shut up in this
    prison-house.”

    The Man and the Satyr

    A MAN and a Satyr once drank together in token of a bond of alliance
    being formed between them. One very cold wintry day, as they talked,
    the Man put his fingers to his mouth and blew on them. When the Satyr
    asked the reason for this, he told him that he did it to warm his hands
    because they were so cold. Later on in the day they sat down to eat,
    and the food prepared was quite scalding. The Man raised one of the
    dishes a little towards his mouth and blew in it. When the Satyr again
    inquired the reason, he said that he did it to cool the meat, which was
    too hot. “I can no longer consider you as a friend,” said the Satyr, “a
    fellow who with the same breath blows hot and cold.”

    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus

    ACCORDING to an ancient legend, the first man was made by Jupiter, the
    first bull by Neptune, and the first house by Minerva. On the
    completion of their labours, a dispute arose as to which had made the
    most perfect work. They agreed to appoint Momus as judge, and to abide
    by his decision. Momus, however, being very envious of the handicraft
    of each, found fault with all. He first blamed the work of Neptune
    because he had not made the horns of the bull below his eyes, so he
    might better see where to strike. He then condemned the work of
    Jupiter, because he had not placed the heart of man on the outside,
    that everyone might read the thoughts of the evil disposed and take
    precautions against the intended mischief. And, lastly, he inveighed
    against Minerva because she had not contrived iron wheels in the
    foundation of her house, so its inhabitants might more easily remove if
    a neighbor proved unpleasant. Jupiter, indignant at such inveterate
    faultfinding, drove him from his office of judge, and expelled him from
    the mansions of Olympus.

    The Eagle and the Jackdaw

    AN EAGLE, flying down from his perch on a lofty rock, seized upon a
    lamb and carried him aloft in his talons. A Jackdaw, who witnessed the
    capture of the lamb, was stirred with envy and determined to emulate
    the strength and flight of the Eagle. He flew around with a great whir
    of his wings and settled upon a large ram, with the intention of
    carrying him off, but his claws became entangled in the ram’s fleece
    and he was not able to release himself, although he fluttered with his
    feathers as much as he could. The shepherd, seeing what had happened,
    ran up and caught him. He at once clipped the Jackdaw’s wings, and
    taking him home at night, gave him to his children. On their saying,
    “Father, what kind of bird is it?” he replied, “To my certain knowledge
    he is a Daw; but he would like you to think an Eagle.”

    The Eagle and the Fox

    AN EAGLE and a Fox formed an intimate friendship and decided to live
    near each other. The Eagle built her nest in the branches of a tall
    tree, while the Fox crept into the underwood and there produced her
    young. Not long after they had agreed upon this plan, the Eagle, being
    in want of provision for her young ones, swooped down while the Fox was
    out, seized upon one of the little cubs, and feasted herself and her
    brood. The Fox on her return, discovered what had happened, but was
    less grieved for the death of her young than for her inability to
    avenge them. A just retribution, however, quickly fell upon the Eagle.
    While hovering near an altar, on which some villagers were sacrificing
    a goat, she suddenly seized a piece of the flesh, and carried it, along
    with a burning cinder, to her nest. A strong breeze soon fanned the
    spark into a flame, and the eaglets, as yet unfledged and helpless,
    were roasted in their nest and dropped down dead at the bottom of the
    tree. There, in the sight of the Eagle, the Fox gobbled them up.

    The Two Bags

    EVERY MAN, according to an ancient legend, is born into the world with
    two bags suspended from his neck all bag in front full of his
    neighbors’ faults, and a large bag behind filled with his own faults.
    Hence it is that men are quick to see the faults of others, and yet are
    often blind to their own failings.

    The Bitch and Her Whelps

    A BITCH, ready to whelp, earnestly begged a shepherd for a place where
    she might litter. When her request was granted, she besought permission
    to rear her puppies in the same spot. The shepherd again consented. But
    at last the Bitch, protected by the bodyguard of her Whelps, who had
    now grown up and were able to defend themselves, asserted her exclusive
    right to the place and would not permit the shepherd to approach.

    The Stag at the Pool

    A STAG overpowered by heat came to a spring to drink. Seeing his own
    shadow reflected in the water, he greatly admired the size and variety
    of his horns, but felt angry with himself for having such slender and
    weak feet. While he was thus contemplating himself, a Lion appeared at
    the pool and crouched to spring upon him. The Stag immediately took to
    flight, and exerting his utmost speed, as long as the plain was smooth
    and open kept himself easily at a safe distance from the Lion. But
    entering a wood he became entangled by his horns, and the Lion quickly
    came up to him and caught him. When too late, he thus reproached
    himself: “Woe is me! How I have deceived myself! These feet which would
    have saved me I despised, and I gloried in these antlers which have
    proved my destruction.”

    What is most truly valuable is often underrated.

    The Lark Burying Her Father

    THE LARK (according to an ancient legend) was created before the earth
    itself, and when her father died, as there was no earth, she could find
    no place of burial for him. She let him lie uninterred for five days,
    and on the sixth day, not knowing what else to do, she buried him in
    her own head. Hence she obtained her crest, which is popularly said to
    be her father’s grave-hillock.

    Youth’s first duty is reverence to parents.

    The Gnat and the Bull

    A GNAT settled on the horn of a Bull, and sat there a long time. Just
    as he was about to fly off, he made a buzzing noise, and inquired of
    the Bull if he would like him to go. The Bull replied, “I did not know
    you had come, and I shall not miss you when you go away.”

    Some men are of more consequence in their own eyes than in the eyes of
    their neighbors.

    The Monkey and the Camel

    THE BEASTS of the forest gave a splendid entertainment at which the
    Monkey stood up and danced. Having vastly delighted the assembly, he
    sat down amidst universal applause. The Camel, envious of the praises
    bestowed on the Monkey and desiring to divert to himself the favour of
    the guests, proposed to stand up in his turn and dance for their
    amusement. He moved about in so utterly ridiculous a manner that the
    Beasts, in a fit of indignation, set upon him with clubs and drove him
    out of the assembly.

    It is absurd to ape our betters.

    The Dogs and the Hides

    SOME DOGS famished with hunger saw a number of cowhides steeping in a
    river. Not being able to reach them, they agreed to drink up the river,
    but it happened that they burst themselves with drinking long before
    they reached the hides.

    Attempt not impossibilities.

    The Jackdaw and the Fox

    A HALF-FAMISHED JACKDAW seated himself on a fig-tree, which had
    produced some fruit entirely out of season, and waited in the hope that
    the figs would ripen. A Fox seeing him sitting so long and learning the
    reason of his doing so, said to him, “You are indeed, sir, sadly
    deceiving yourself; you are indulging a hope strong enough to cheat
    you, but which will never reward you with enjoyment.”

    Mercury and the Workmen

    A WORKMAN, felling wood by the side of a river, let his axe drop by
    accident into a deep pool. Being thus deprived of the means of his
    livelihood, he sat down on the bank and lamented his hard fate. Mercury
    appeared and demanded the cause of his tears. After he told him his
    misfortune, Mercury plunged into the stream, and, bringing up a golden
    axe, inquired if that were the one he had lost. On his saying that it
    was not his, Mercury disappeared beneath the water a second time,
    returned with a silver axe in his hand, and again asked the Workman if
    it were his. When the Workman said it was not, he dived into the pool
    for the third time and brought up the axe that had been lost. The
    Workman claimed it and expressed his joy at its recovery. Mercury,
    pleased with his honesty, gave him the golden and silver axes in
    addition to his own. The Workman, on his return to his house, related
    to his companions all that had happened. One of them at once resolved
    to try and secure the same good fortune for himself. He ran to the
    river and threw his axe on purpose into the pool at the same place, and
    sat down on the bank to weep. Mercury appeared to him just as he hoped
    he would; and having learned the cause of his grief, plunged into the
    stream and brought up a golden axe, inquiring if he had lost it. The
    Workman seized it greedily, and declared that truly it was the very
    same axe that he had lost. Mercury, displeased at his knavery, not only
    took away the golden axe, but refused to recover for him the axe he had
    thrown into the pool.

    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree

    A PEASANT had in his garden an Apple-Tree which bore no fruit but only
    served as a harbor for the sparrows and grasshoppers. He resolved to
    cut it down, and taking his axe in his hand, made a bold stroke at its
    roots. The grasshoppers and sparrows entreated him not to cut down the
    tree that sheltered them, but to spare it, and they would sing to him
    and lighten his labours. He paid no attention to their request, but
    gave the tree a second and a third blow with his axe. When he reached
    the hollow of the tree, he found a hive full of honey. Having tasted
    the honeycomb, he threw down his axe, and looking on the tree as
    sacred, took great care of it.

    Self-interest alone moves some men.

    The Two Soldiers and the Robber

    TWO SOLDIERS traveling together were set upon by a Robber. The one fled
    away; the other stood his ground and defended himself with his stout
    right hand. The Robber being slain, the timid companion ran up and drew
    his sword, and then, throwing back his traveling cloak said, “I’ll at
    him, and I’ll take care he shall learn whom he has attacked.” On this,
    he who had fought with the Robber made answer, “I only wish that you
    had helped me just now, even if it had been only with those words, for
    I should have been the more encouraged, believing them to be true; but
    now put up your sword in its sheath and hold your equally useless
    tongue, till you can deceive others who do not know you. I, indeed, who
    have experienced with what speed you run away, know right well that no
    dependence can be placed on your valor.”

    The Shepherd and the Sheep

    A SHEPHERD driving his Sheep to a wood, saw an oak of unusual size full
    of acorns, and spreading his cloak under the branches, he climbed up
    into the tree and shook them down. The Sheep eating the acorns
    inadvertently frayed and tore the cloak. When the Shepherd came down
    and saw what was done, he said, “O you most ungrateful creatures! You
    provide wool to make garments for all other men, but you destroy the
    clothes of him who feeds you.”

    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods

    THE GODS, according to an ancient legend, made choice of certain trees
    to be under their special protection. Jupiter chose the oak, Venus the
    myrtle, Apollo the laurel, Cybele the pine, and Hercules the poplar.
    Minerva, wondering why they had preferred trees not yielding fruit,
    inquired the reason for their choice. Jupiter replied, “It is lest we
    should seem to covet the honour for the fruit.” But said Minerva, “Let
    anyone say what he will the olive is more dear to me on account of its
    fruit.” Then said Jupiter, “My daughter, you are rightly called wise;
    for unless what we do is useful, the glory of it is vain.”

    The Flea and the Wrestler

    A FLEA settled upon the bare foot of a Wrestler and bit him, causing
    the man to call loudly upon Hercules for help. When the Flea a second
    time hopped upon his foot, he groaned and said, “O Hercules! if you
    will not help me against a Flea, how can I hope for your assistance
    against greater antagonists?”

    The Lion and the Fox

    A FOX entered into partnership with a Lion on the pretense of becoming
    his servant. Each undertook his proper duty in accordance with his own
    nature and powers. The Fox discovered and pointed out the prey; the
    Lion sprang on it and seized it. The Fox soon became jealous of the
    Lion carrying off the Lion’s share, and said that he would no longer
    find out the prey, but would capture it on his own account. The next
    day he attempted to snatch a lamb from the fold, but he himself fell
    prey to the huntsmen and hounds.

    Truth and the Traveler

    A WAYFARING MAN, traveling in the desert, met a woman standing alone
    and terribly dejected. He inquired of her, “Who art thou?” “My name is
    Truth,” she replied. “And for what cause,” he asked, “have you left the
    city to dwell alone here in the wilderness?” She made answer, “Because
    in former times, falsehood was with few, but is now with all men.”

    The Manslayer

    A MAN committed a murder, and was pursued by the relations of the man
    whom he murdered. On his reaching the river Nile he saw a Lion on its
    bank and being fearfully afraid, climbed up a tree. He found a serpent
    in the upper branches of the tree, and again being greatly alarmed, he
    threw himself into the river, where a crocodile caught him and ate him.
    Thus the earth, the air, and the water alike refused shelter to a
    murderer.

    The Lion and the Eagle

    AN EAGLE stayed his flight and entreated a Lion to make an alliance
    with him to their mutual advantage. The Lion replied, “I have no
    objection, but you must excuse me for requiring you to find surety for
    your good faith, for how can I trust anyone as a friend who is able to
    fly away from his bargain whenever he pleases?”

    Try before you trust.

    The Ass and His Driver

    AN ASS, being driven along a high road, suddenly started off and bolted
    to the brink of a deep precipice. While he was in the act of throwing
    himself over, his owner seized him by the tail, endeavoring to pull him
    back. When the Ass persisted in his effort, the man let him go and
    said, “Conquer, but conquer to your cost.”

    The Thrush and the Fowler

    A THRUSH was feeding on a myrtle-tree and did not move from it because
    its berries were so delicious. A Fowler observed her staying so long in
    one spot, and having well bird-limed his reeds, caught her. The Thrush,
    being at the point of death, exclaimed, “O foolish creature that I am!
    For the sake of a little pleasant food I have deprived myself of my
    life.”

    The Mother and the Wolf

    A FAMISHED WOLF was prowling about in the morning in search of food. As
    he passed the door of a cottage built in the forest, he heard a Mother
    say to her child, “Be quiet, or I will throw you out of the window, and
    the Wolf shall eat you.” The Wolf sat all day waiting at the door. In
    the evening he heard the same woman fondling her child and saying: “You
    are quiet now, and if the Wolf should come, we will kill him.” The
    Wolf, hearing these words, went home, gasping with cold and hunger.
    When he reached his den, Mistress Wolf inquired of him why he returned
    wearied and supperless, so contrary to his wont. He replied: “Why,
    forsooth! use I gave credence to the words of a woman!”

    The Hen and the Swallow

    A HEN finding the eggs of a viper and carefully keeping them warm,
    nourished them into life. A Swallow, observing what she had done, said,
    “You silly creature! why have you hatched these vipers which, when they
    shall have grown, will inflict injury on all, beginning with yourself?”

    The Rose and the Amaranth

    AN AMARANTH planted in a garden near a Rose-Tree, thus addressed it:
    “What a lovely flower is the Rose, a favourite alike with Gods and with
    men. I envy you your beauty and your perfume.” The Rose replied, “I
    indeed, dear Amaranth, flourish but for a brief season! If no cruel
    hand pluck me from my stem, yet I must perish by an early doom. But
    thou art immortal and dost never fade, but bloomest for ever in renewed
    youth.”

    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree

    TWO TRAVELERS, worn out by the heat of the summer’s sun, laid
    themselves down at noon under the widespreading branches of a
    Plane-Tree. As they rested under its shade, one of the Travelers said
    to the other, “What a singularly useless tree is the Plane! It bears no
    fruit, and is not of the least service to man.” The Plane-Tree,
    interrupting him, said, “You ungrateful fellows! Do you, while
    receiving benefits from me and resting under my shade, dare to describe
    me as useless, and unprofitable?”

    Some men underrate their best blessings.

    The Ass and the Horse

    AN ASS besought a Horse to spare him a small portion of his feed.
    “Yes,” said the Horse; “if any remains out of what I am now eating I
    will give it you for the sake of my own superior dignity, and if you
    will come when I reach my own stall in the evening, I will give you a
    little sack full of barley.” The Ass replied, “Thank you. But I can’t
    think that you, who refuse me a little matter now, will by and by
    confer on me a greater benefit.”

    The Crow and the Sheep

    A TROUBLESOME CROW seated herself on the back of a Sheep. The Sheep,
    much against his will, carried her backward and forward for a long
    time, and at last said, “If you had treated a dog in this way, you
    would have had your deserts from his sharp teeth.” To this the Crow
    replied, “I despise the weak and yield to the strong. I know whom I may
    bully and whom I must flatter; and I thus prolong my life to a good old
    age.”

    The Fox and the Bramble

    A FOX was mounting a hedge when he lost his footing and caught hold of
    a Bramble to save himself. Having pricked and grievously torn the soles
    of his feet, he accused the Bramble because, when he had fled to her
    for assistance, she had used him worse than the hedge itself. The
    Bramble, interrupting him, said, “But you really must have been out of
    your senses to fasten yourself on me, who am myself always accustomed
    to fasten upon others.”

    The Ass and the Charger

    AN ASS congratulated a Horse on being so ungrudgingly and carefully
    provided for, while he himself had scarcely enough to eat and not even
    that without hard work. But when war broke out, a heavily armed soldier
    mounted the Horse, and riding him to the charge, rushed into the very
    midst of the enemy. The Horse was wounded and fell dead on the
    battlefield. Then the Ass, seeing all these things, changed his mind,
    and commiserated the Horse.

    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant

    THE LION wearied Jupiter with his frequent complaints. “It is true, O
    Jupiter!” he said, “that I am gigantic in strength, handsome in shape,
    and powerful in attack. I have jaws well provided with teeth, and feet
    furnished with claws, and I lord it over all the beasts of the forest,
    and what a disgrace it is, that being such as I am, I should be
    frightened by the crowing of a cock.” Jupiter replied, “Why do you
    blame me without a cause? I have given you all the attributes which I
    possess myself, and your courage never fails you except in this one
    instance.” On hearing this the Lion groaned and lamented very much and,
    reproaching himself with his cowardice, wished that he might die. As
    these thoughts passed through his mind, he met an Elephant and came
    close to hold a conversation with him. After a time he observed that
    the Elephant shook his ears very often, and he inquired what was the
    matter and why his ears moved with such a tremor every now and then.
    Just at that moment a Gnat settled on the head of the Elephant, and he
    replied, “Do you see that little buzzing insect? If it enters my ear,
    my fate is sealed. I should die presently.” The Lion said, “Well, since
    so huge a beast is afraid of a tiny gnat, I will no more complain, nor
    wish myself dead. I find myself, even as I am, better off than the
    Elephant.”

    The Dog and the Oyster

    A DOG, used to eating eggs, saw an Oyster and, opening his mouth to its
    widest extent, swallowed it down with the utmost relish, supposing it
    to be an egg. Soon afterwards suffering great pain in his stomach, he
    said, “I deserve all this torment, for my folly in thinking that
    everything round must be an egg.”

    They who act without sufficient thought, will often fall into
    unsuspected danger.

    The Mules and the Robbers

    TWO MULES well-laden with packs were trudging along. One carried
    panniers filled with money, the other sacks weighted with grain. The
    Mule carrying the treasure walked with head erect, as if conscious of
    the value of his burden, and tossed up and down the clear-toned bells
    fastened to his neck. His companion followed with quiet and easy step.
    All of a sudden Robbers rushed upon them from their hiding-places, and
    in the scuffle with their owners, wounded with a sword the Mule
    carrying the treasure, which they greedily seized while taking no
    notice of the grain. The Mule which had been robbed and wounded
    bewailed his misfortunes. The other replied, “I am indeed glad that I
    was thought so little of, for I have lost nothing, nor am I hurt with
    any wound.”

    The Lamb and the Wolf

    A WOLF pursued a Lamb, which fled for refuge to a certain Temple. The
    Wolf called out to him and said, “The Priest will slay you in
    sacrifice, if he should catch you.” On which the Lamb replied, “It
    would be better for me to be sacrificed in the Temple than to be eaten
    by you.”

    The Partridge and the Fowler

    A FOWLER caught a Partridge and was about to kill it. The Partridge
    earnestly begged him to spare his life, saying, “Pray, master, permit
    me to live and I will entice many Partridges to you in recompense for
    your mercy to me.” The Fowler replied, “I shall now with less scruple
    take your life, because you are willing to save it at the cost of
    betraying your friends and relations.”

    The Flea and the Man

    A MAN, very much annoyed with a Flea, caught him at last, and said,
    “Who are you who dare to feed on my limbs, and to cost me so much
    trouble in catching you?” The Flea replied, “O my dear sir, pray spare
    my life, and destroy me not, for I cannot possibly do you much harm.”
    The Man, laughing, replied, “Now you shall certainly die by mine own
    hands, for no evil, whether it be small or large, ought to be
    tolerated.”

    The Rich Man and the Tanner

    A RICH MAN lived near a Tanner, and not being able to bear the
    unpleasant smell of the tan-yard, he pressed his neighbor to go away.
    The Tanner put off his departure from time to time, saying that he
    would leave soon. But as he still continued to stay, as time went on,
    the rich man became accustomed to the smell, and feeling no manner of
    inconvenience, made no further complaints.

    The Viper and the File

    A VIPER, entering the workshop of a smith, sought from the tools the
    means of satisfying his hunger. He more particularly addressed himself
    to a File, and asked of him the favour of a meal. The File replied,
    “You must indeed be a simple-minded fellow if you expect to get
    anything from me, who am accustomed to take from everyone, and never to
    give anything in return.”

    The covetous are poor givers.

    The Lion and the Shepherd

    A LION, roaming through a forest, trod upon a thorn. Soon afterward he
    came up to a Shepherd and fawned upon him, wagging his tail as if to
    say, “I am a suppliant, and seek your aid.” The Shepherd boldly
    examined the beast, discovered the thorn, and placing his paw upon his
    lap, pulled it out; thus relieved of his pain, the Lion returned into
    the forest. Some time after, the Shepherd, being imprisoned on a false
    accusation, was condemned “to be cast to the Lions” as the punishment
    for his imputed crime. But when the Lion was released from his cage, he
    recognized the Shepherd as the man who healed him, and instead of
    attacking him, approached and placed his foot upon his lap. The King,
    as soon as he heard the tale, ordered the Lion to be set free again in
    the forest, and the Shepherd to be pardoned and restored to his
    friends.

    The Camel and Jupiter

    THE CAMEL, when he saw the Bull adorned with horns, envied him and
    wished that he himself could obtain the same honours. He went to
    Jupiter, and besought him to give him horns. Jupiter, vexed at his
    request because he was not satisfied with his size and strength of
    body, and desired yet more, not only refused to give him horns, but
    even deprived him of a portion of his ears.

    The Panther and the Shepherds

    A PANTHER, by some mischance, fell into a pit. The Shepherds discovered
    him, and some threw sticks at him and pelted him with stones, while
    others, moved with compassion towards one about to die even though no
    one should hurt him, threw in some food to prolong his life. At night
    they returned home, not dreaming of any danger, but supposing that on
    the morrow they would find him dead. The Panther, however, when he had
    recruited his feeble strength, freed himself with a sudden bound from
    the pit, and hastened to his den with rapid steps. After a few days he
    came forth and slaughtered the cattle, and, killing the Shepherds who
    had attacked him, raged with angry fury. Then they who had spared his
    life, fearing for their safety, surrendered to him their flocks and
    begged only for their lives. To them the Panther made this reply: “I
    remember alike those who sought my life with stones, and those who gave
    me food aside, therefore, your fears. I return as an enemy only to
    those who injured me.”

    The Eagle and the Kite

    AN EAGLE, overwhelmed with sorrow, sat upon the branches of a tree in
    company with a Kite. “Why,” said the Kite, “do I see you with such a
    rueful look?” “I seek,” she replied, “a mate suitable for me, and am
    not able to find one.” “Take me,” returned the Kite, “I am much
    stronger than you are.” “Why, are you able to secure the means of
    living by your plunder?” “Well, I have often caught and carried away an
    ostrich in my talons.” The Eagle, persuaded by these words, accepted
    him as her mate. Shortly after the nuptials, the Eagle said, “Fly off
    and bring me back the ostrich you promised me.” The Kite, soaring aloft
    into the air, brought back the shabbiest possible mouse, stinking from
    the length of time it had lain about the fields. “Is this,” said the
    Eagle, “the faithful fulfillment of your promise to me?” The Kite
    replied, “That I might attain your royal hand, there is nothing that I
    would not have promised, however much I knew that I must fail in the
    performance.”

    The Eagle and His Captor

    AN EAGLE was once captured by a man, who immediately clipped his wings
    and put him into his poultry-yard with the other birds, at which
    treatment the Eagle was weighed down with grief. Later, another
    neighbor purchased him and allowed his feathers to grow again. The
    Eagle took flight, and pouncing upon a hare, brought it at once as an
    offering to his benefactor. A Fox, seeing this, exclaimed, “Do not
    cultivate the favour of this man, but of your former owner, lest he
    should again hunt for you and deprive you a second time of your wings.”

    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion

    A KING, whose only son was fond of martial exercises, had a dream in
    which he was warned that his son would be killed by a lion. Afraid the
    dream should prove true, he built for his son a pleasant palace and
    adorned its walls for his amusement with all kinds of life-sized
    animals, among which was the picture of a lion. When the young Prince
    saw this, his grief at being thus confined burst out afresh, and,
    standing near the lion, he said: “O you most detestable of animals!
    through a lying dream of my father’s, which he saw in his sleep, I am
    shut up on your account in this palace as if I had been a girl: what
    shall I now do to you?” With these words he stretched out his hands
    toward a thorn-tree, meaning to cut a stick from its branches so that
    he might beat the lion. But one of the tree’s prickles pierced his
    finger and caused great pain and inflammation, so that the young Prince
    fell down in a fainting fit. A violent fever suddenly set in, from
    which he died not many days later.

    We had better bear our troubles bravely than try to escape them.

    The Cat and Venus

    A CAT fell in love with a handsome young man, and entreated Venus to
    change her into the form of a woman. Venus consented to her request and
    transformed her into a beautiful damsel, so that the youth saw her and
    loved her, and took her home as his bride. While the two were reclining
    in their chamber, Venus wishing to discover if the Cat in her change of
    shape had also altered her habits of life, let down a mouse in the
    middle of the room. The Cat, quite forgetting her present condition,
    started up from the couch and pursued the mouse, wishing to eat it.
    Venus was much disappointed and again caused her to return to her
    former shape.

    Nature exceeds nurture.

    The Eagle and the Beetle

    THE EAGLE and the Beetle were at enmity together, and they destroyed
    one another’s nests. The Eagle gave the first provocation in seizing
    upon and in eating the young ones of the Beetle. The Beetle got by
    stealth at the Eagle’s eggs, and rolled them out of the nest, and
    followed the Eagle even into the presence of Jupiter. On the Eagle
    making his complaint, Jupiter ordered him to make his nest in his lap;
    and while Jupiter had the eggs in his lap, the Beetle came flying about
    him, and Jupiter rising up unawares, to drive him away from his head,
    threw down the eggs, and broke them.

    The weak often revenge themselves on those who use them ill, even
    though they be more powerful.

    The She-Goats and Their Beards

    THE SHE-GOATS having obtained a beard by request to Jupiter, the
    He-Goats were sorely displeased and made complaint that the females
    equaled them in dignity. “Allow them,” said Jupiter, “to enjoy an empty
    honour and to assume the badge of your nobler sex, so long as they are
    not your equals in strength or courage.”

    It matters little if those who are inferior to us in merit should be
    like us in outside appearances.

    The Bald Man and the Fly

    A FLY bit the bare head of a Bald Man who, endeavoring to destroy it,
    gave himself a heavy slap. Escaping, the Fly said mockingly, “You who
    have wished to revenge, even with death, the Prick of a tiny insect,
    see what you have done to yourself to add insult to injury?” The Bald
    Man replied, “I can easily make peace with myself, because I know there
    was no intention to hurt. But you, an ill-favoured and contemptible
    insect who delights in sucking human blood, I wish that I could have
    killed you even if I had incurred a heavier penalty.”

    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea

    A SHIPWRECKED MAN, having been cast upon a certain shore, slept after
    his buffetings with the deep. After a while he awoke, and looking upon
    the Sea, loaded it with reproaches. He argued that it enticed men with
    the calmness of its looks, but when it had induced them to plow its
    waters, it grew rough and destroyed them. The Sea, assuming the form of
    a woman, replied to him: “Blame not me, my good sir, but the winds, for
    I am by my own nature as calm and firm even as this earth; but the
    winds suddenly falling on me create these waves, and lash me into
    fury.”

    The Buffoon and the Countryman

    A RICH NOBLEMAN once opened the theaters without charge to the people,
    and gave a public notice that he would handsomely reward any person who
    invented a new amusement for the occasion. Various public performers
    contended for the prize. Among them came a Buffoon well known among the
    populace for his jokes, and said that he had a kind of entertainment
    which had never been brought out on any stage before. This report being
    spread about made a great stir, and the theater was crowded in every
    part. The Buffoon appeared alone upon the platform, without any
    apparatus or confederates, and the very sense of expectation caused an
    intense silence. He suddenly bent his head towards his bosom and
    imitated the squeaking of a little pig so admirably with his voice that
    the audience declared he had a porker under his cloak, and demanded
    that it should be shaken out. When that was done and nothing was found,
    they cheered the actor, and loaded him with the loudest applause. A
    Countryman in the crowd, observing all that has passed, said, “So help
    me, Hercules, he shall not beat me at that trick!” and at once
    proclaimed that he would do the same thing on the next day, though in a
    much more natural way. On the morrow a still larger crowd assembled in
    the theater, but now partiality for their favourite actor very
    generally prevailed, and the audience came rather to ridicule the
    Countryman than to see the spectacle. Both of the performers appeared
    on the stage. The Buffoon grunted and squeaked away first, and
    obtained, as on the preceding day, the applause and cheers of the
    spectators. Next the Countryman commenced, and pretending that he
    concealed a little pig beneath his clothes (which in truth he did, but
    not suspected by the audience ) contrived to take hold of and to pull
    his ear causing the pig to squeak. The Crowd, however, cried out with
    one consent that the Buffoon had given a far more exact imitation, and
    clamored for the Countryman to be kicked out of the theater. On this
    the rustic produced the little pig from his cloak and showed by the
    most positive proof the greatness of their mistake. “Look here,” he
    said, “this shows what sort of judges you are.”

    The Crow and the Serpent

    A CROW in great want of food saw a Serpent asleep in a sunny nook, and
    flying down, greedily seized him. The Serpent, turning about, bit the
    Crow with a mortal wound. In the agony of death, the bird exclaimed: “O
    unhappy me! who have found in that which I deemed a happy windfall the
    source of my destruction.”

    The Hunter and the Horseman

    A CERTAIN HUNTER, having snared a hare, placed it upon his shoulders
    and set out homewards. On his way he met a man on horseback who begged
    the hare of him, under the pretense of purchasing it. However, when the
    Horseman got the hare, he rode off as fast as he could. The Hunter ran
    after him, as if he was sure of overtaking him, but the Horseman
    increased more and more the distance between them. The Hunter, sorely
    against his will, called out to him and said, “Get along with you! for
    I will now make you a present of the hare.”

    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree

    THE OLIVE-TREE ridiculed the Fig-Tree because, while she was green all
    the year round, the Fig-Tree changed its leaves with the seasons. A
    shower of snow fell upon them, and, finding the Olive full of foliage,
    it settled upon its branches and broke them down with its weight, at
    once despoiling it of its beauty and killing the tree. But finding the
    Fig-Tree denuded of leaves, the snow fell through to the ground, and
    did not injure it at all.

    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun

    ONCE UPON A TIME, when the Sun announced his intention to take a wife,
    the Frogs lifted up their voices in clamor to the sky. Jupiter,
    disturbed by the noise of their croaking, inquired the cause of their
    complaint. One of them said, “The Sun, now while he is single, parches
    up the marsh, and compels us to die miserably in our arid homes. What
    will be our future condition if he should beget other suns?”

    The Brazier and His Dog

    A BRAZIER had a little Dog, which was a great favourite with his
    master, and his constant companion. While he hammered away at his
    metals the Dog slept; but when, on the other hand, he went to dinner
    and began to eat, the Dog woke up and wagged his tail, as if he would
    ask for a share of his meal. His master one day, pretending to be angry
    and shaking his stick at him, said, “You wretched little sluggard! what
    shall I do to you? While I am hammering on the anvil, you sleep on the
    mat; and when I begin to eat after my toil, you wake up and wag your
    tail for food. Do you not know that labor is the source of every
    blessing, and that none but those who work are entitled to eat?”

    FOOTNOTES

    1 (return)
    [ A History of the Literature of Ancient Greece, by K. O. Mueller. Vol.
    i, p. 191. _London_, Parker, 1858.]

    2 (return)
    [ Select Fables of Æsop, and other Fabulists. In three books,
    translated by Robert Dodsley, accompanied with a selection of notes,
    and an Essay on Fable. _Birmingham_, 1864. P. 60.]

    3 (return)
    [ Some of these fables had, no doubt, in the first instance, a primary
    and private interpretation. On the first occasion of their being
    composed they were intended to refer to some passing event, or to some
    individual acts of wrong-doing. Thus, the fables of the “Eagle and the
    Fox” and of the “Fox and Monkey” are supposed to have been written by
    Archilochus, to avenge the injuries done him by Lycambes. So also the
    fables of the “Swollen Fox” and of the “Frogs asking a King” were
    spoken by Æsop for the immediate purpose of reconciling the inhabitants
    of Samos and Athens to their respective rulers, Periander and
    Pisistratus; while the fable of the “Horse and Stag” was composed to
    caution the inhabitants of Himera against granting a bodyguard to
    Phalaris. In a similar manner, the fable from Phædrus, the “Marriage of
    the Sun,” is supposed to have reference to the contemplated union of
    Livia, the daughter of Drusus, with Sejanus the favourite, and minister
    of Trajan. These fables, however, though thus originating in special
    events, and designed at first to meet special circumstances, are so
    admirably constructed as to be fraught with lessons of general utility,
    and of universal application.]

    4 (return)
    [ Hesiod. Opera et Dies, verse 202.]

    5 (return)
    [ Æschylus. Fragment of the Myrmidons. Æschylus speaks of this fable as
    existing before his day. ὡς δ’ ἐστὶ μύθων τῶν Διβυστικῶν λογος. See
    Scholiast on the Aves of Aristophanes, line 808.]

    6 (return)
    [ Fragment. 38, ed. Gaisford. See also Mueller’s History of the
    Literature of Ancient Greece, vol. i. pp. 190–193.]

    7 (return)
    [ M. Bayle has well put this in his account of Æsop. “Il n’y a point
    d’apparence que les fables qui portent aujourd’hui son nom soient les
    mêmes qu’il avait faites; elles viennent bien de lui pour la plupart,
    quant à la matière et la pensée; mais les paroles sont d’un autre.” And
    again, “C’est donc à Hésiode, que j’aimerais mieux attribuer la gloire
    de l’invention; mais sans doute il laissa la chose très imparfaite.
    Esope la perfectionne si heureusement, qu’on l’a regarde comme le vrai
    père de cette sorte de production.”—_Bayle. Dictionnaire Historique_.]

    8 (return)
    [ Plato in Phædone.]

    9 (return)
    [ Apologos en! misit tibi
    Ab usque Rheni limite
    Ausonius nomen Italum
    Præceptor Augusti tui
    Æsopiam trimetriam;
    Quam vertit exili stylo
    Pedestre concinnans opus
    Fandi Titianus artifex.

    _Ausonii Epistola_, xvi. 75–80.]

    10 (return)
    [ Both these publications are in the British Museum, and are placed in
    the library in cases under glass, for the inspection of the curious.]

    11 (return)
    [ Fables may possibly have been not entirely unknown to the mediæval
    scholars. There are two celebrated works which might by some be classed
    amongst works of this description. The one is the “Speculum Sapientiæ,”
    attributed to St. Cyril, Archbishop of Jerusalem, but of a considerably
    later origin, and existing only in Latin. It is divided into four
    books, and consists of long conversations conducted by fictitious
    characters under the figures the beasts of the field and forest, and
    aimed at the rebuke of particular classes of men, the boastful, the
    proud, the luxurious, the wrathful, &c. None of the stories are
    precisely those of Æsop, and none have the concinnity, terseness, and
    unmistakable deduction of the lesson intended to be taught by the
    fable, so conspicuous in the great Greek fabulist. The exact title of
    the book is this: “Speculum Sapientiæ, B. Cyrilli Episcopi: alias
    quadripartitus apologeticus vocatus, in cujus quidem proverbiis omnis
    et totius sapientiæ speculum claret et feliciter incipit.” The other is
    a larger work in two volumes, published in the fourteenth century by
    Cæsar Heisterbach, a Cistercian monk, under the title of “Dialogus
    Miraculorum,” reprinted in 1851. This work consists of conversations in
    which many stories are interwoven on all kinds of subjects. It has no
    correspondence with the pure Æsopian fable.]

    12 (return)
    [ Post-mediæval Preachers, by S. Baring-Gould. Rivingtons, 1865.]

    13 (return)
    [ For an account of this work see the Life of Poggio Bracciolini, by
    the Rev. William Shepherd. Liverpool, 1801.]

    14 (return)
    [ Professor Theodore Bergh. See Classical Museum, No. viii. July,
    1849.]

    15 (return)
    [ Vavassor’s treatise, entitled “De Ludicrâ Dictione” was written A.D.
    1658, at the request of the celebrated M. Balzac (though published
    after his death), for the purpose of showing that the burlesque style
    of writing adopted by Scarron and D’Assouci, and at that time so
    popular in France, had no sanction from the ancient classic writers.
    _Francisci Vavassoris opera omnia_. Amsterdam. 1709.]

    16 (return)
    [ The claims of Babrias also found a warm advocate in the learned
    Frenchman, M. Bayle, who, in his admirable Dictionary, (_Dictionnaire
    Historique et Critique de Pierre Bayle_. Paris, 1820,) gives additional
    arguments in confirmation of the opinions of his learned predecessors,
    Nevelet and Vavassor.]

    17 (return)
    [ Scazonic, or halting, iambics; a choliambic (a lame, halting iambic)
    differs from the iambic Senarius in always having a spondee or trochee
    for its last foot; the fifth foot, to avoid shortness of metre, being
    generally an iambic. See Fables of Babrias, translated by Rev. James
    Davies. Lockwood, 1860. Preface, p. 27.]

    18 (return)
    [ See Dr. Bentley’s Dissertations upon the Epistles of Phalaris.]

    19 (return)
    [ Dr. Bentley’s Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris, and Fables
    of Æsop examined. By the Honourable Charles Boyle.]

    20 (return)
    [ M. Bayle thus characterises this Life of Æsop by Planudes, “Tous les
    habiles gens conviennent que c’est un roman, et que les absurdités
    grossières qui l’on y trouve le rendent indigne de toute créance.”
    _Dictionnaire Historique_. Art. _Esope_.]

    INDEX

    Æthiop
    The Ant and the Dove
    The Ants and the Grasshopper
    The Apes and the Two Travelers
    The Ass and the Charger
    The Ass and His Driver
    The Ass and the Frogs
    The Ass and the Grasshopper
    The Ass and his Masters
    The Ass and his Purchaser
    The Ass and his Shadow
    The Ass and the Horse
    The Ass and the Lapdog
    The Ass and the Mule
    The Ass and the Old Shepherd
    The Ass and the Wolf
    The Ass Carrying the Image
    The Ass, the Cock, and the Lion
    The Ass in the Lion’s Skin
    The Ass, the Fox, and the Lion
    The Astronomer

    The Bald Man and the Fly
    The Bald Knight
    The Bat And The Weasels
    The Bear and the Fox
    The Bear and the Two Travelers
    The Bee and Jupiter
    The Belly and the Members
    The Birdcatcher, the Partridge, and the Cock
    The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat
    The Bitch and her Whelps
    The Blind Man and the Whelp
    The Boasting Traveler
    The Bowman and Lion
    The Boy and the Filberts
    The Boy and the Nettles
    The Boy Bathing
    The Boy hunting Locusts
    The Boys and the Frogs
    The Brazier and His Dog
    The Brother and the Sister
    The Buffoon and the Countryman
    The Bull and the Calf
    The Bull and the Goat
    The Bull, the Lioness, and the Wild-Boar Hunter

    The Camel
    The Camel and the Arab
    The Camel and Jupiter
    The Cat and the Birds
    The Cat and the Cock
    The Cat and the Mice
    The Cat and Venus
    The Cobbler Turned Doctor
    The Cock and the Jewel
    The Charcoal-Burner and the Fuller
    The Charger and the Miller
    The Crab and the Fox
    The Crab and its Mother
    The Crow and Mercury
    The Crow and the Pitcher
    The Crow and the Raven
    The Crow and the Serpent
    The Crow and the Sheep

    The Dancing Monkeys
    The Doe and the Lion
    The Dog and the Cook
    The Dog and the Hare
    The Dog and the Oyster
    The Dog and the Shadow
    The Dog, the Cock, and the Fox
    The Dog in the Manger
    The Dogs and the Fox
    The Dogs and the Hides
    The Dog’s House
    The Dolphins, the Whales, and the Sprat
    The Dove and the Crow

    The Eagle and the Arrow
    The Eagle and the Beetle
    The Eagle and His Captor
    The Eagle and the Fox
    The Eagle and the Jackdaw
    The Eagle and the Kite
    The Eagle, the Cat, and the Wild Sow

    The Farmer and the Cranes
    The Farmer and the Fox
    The Farmer and the Snake
    The Farmer and His Sons
    The Farmer and the Stork
    The Father And His Sons
    The Father and His Two Daughters
    The Fawn and His Mother
    The Fighting Cocks and the Eagle
    The Fir-Tree and the Bramble
    The Fisherman and His Nets
    The Fisherman and the Little Fish
    The Fisherman Piping
    The Fishermen
    The Flea and the Man
    The Flea and the Ox
    The Flea and the Wrestler
    The Flies and the Honey-Pot
    The Fly and the Draught-Mule
    The Fowler and the Viper
    The Fox and the Bramble
    The Fox and the Crane
    The Fox and the Crow
    The Fox and the Goat
    The Fox and the Grapes
    The Fox and the Hedgehog
    The Fox and the Leopard
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Fox and the Lion
    The Fox and the Mask
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Fox and the Monkey
    The Fox and the Woodcutter
    The Fox Who Had Lost His Tail
    The Frogs Asking for a King
    The Frogs’ Complaint Against the Sun

    The Gamecocks and the Partridge
    The Geese and the Cranes
    The Gnat and the Bull
    The Gnat and the Lion
    The Goat and the Ass
    The Goat and the Goatherd
    The Goatherd and the Wild Goats
    The Goods and the Ills
    The Grasshopper and the Owl

    The Hare and the Hound
    The Hare and the Tortoise
    The Hares and the Foxes
    The Hares and the Frogs
    The Hares and the Lions
    The Hart and the Vine
    The Hawk and the Nightingale
    The Hawk, the Kite, and the Pigeons
    The Heifer and the Ox
    The Hen and the Golden Eggs
    The Hen and the Swallow
    Hercules and the Wagoner
    The Herdsman and the Lost Bull
    The Horse and the Ass
    The Horse and Groom
    The Horse and his Rider
    The Horse and the Stag
    The Hunter and the Horseman
    The Hunter and the Woodman
    The Huntsman and the Fisherman

    The Image of Mercury and the Carpenter

    The Jackdaw and the Doves
    The Jackdaw and the Fox
    Jupiter and the Monkey
    Jupiter, Neptune, Minerva, and Momus

    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Kid and the Wolf
    The Kingdom of the Lion
    The King’s Son and the Painted Lion
    The Kites and the Swans

    The Laborer and the Snake
    The Lamb and the Wolf
    The Lamp
    The Lark and Her Young Ones
    The Lark Burying Her Father
    The Lion and the Boar
    The Lion and the Bull
    The Lion and the Dolphin
    The Lion and the Eagle
    The Lion and the Fox
    The Lion and the Hare
    The Lion and the Mouse
    The Lion and the Shepherd
    The Lion and the Three Bulls
    The Lion, the Bear, and the Fox
    The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass
    The Lion in a Farmyard
    The Lion in Love
    The Lion, Jupiter, and the Elephant
    The Lion, the Mouse, and the Fox
    The Lion, the Wolf, and the Fox
    The Lioness

    The Man and His Two Sweethearts
    The Man and His Wife
    The Man and the Lion
    The Man and the Satyr
    The Man bitten by a Dog
    The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog
    The Manslayer
    The Master and His Dogs
    Mercury and the Sculptor
    Mercury and the Workmen
    The Mice and the Weasels
    The Mice in Council
    The Milk-Woman and her Pail
    The Miller, His Son, and their Ass
    The Mischievous Dog
    The Miser
    The Mole and His Mother
    The Monkey and the Camel
    The Monkey and the Dolphin
    The Monkey and the Fishermen
    The Monkeys and their Mother
    The Mother and the Wolf
    The Mountain in Labor
    The Mouse and the Bull
    The Mouse, the Frog, and the Hawk
    The Mule
    The Mules and the Robbers

    The North Wind and the Sun

    The Oak and the Reeds
    The Oak and the Woodcutters
    The Oaks and Jupiter
    The Old Hound
    The Old Lion
    The Old Man and Death
    The Old Woman and the Physician
    The Old Woman and the Wine-Jar
    The Olive-Tree and the Fig-Tree
    The One-Eyed Doe
    The Owl and the Birds
    The Ox and the Frog
    The Oxen and the Axle-Trees
    The Oxen and the Butchers

    The Panther and the Shepherds
    The Partridge and the Fowler
    The Peacock and the Crane
    The Peacock and Juno
    The Peasant and the Apple-Tree
    The Peasant and the Eagle
    The Philosopher, the Ants, and Mercury
    The Playful Ass
    The Pomegranate, Apple-Tree, and Bramble
    The Porker, the Sheep, and the Goat
    The Prophet

    The Quack Frog

    The Raven and the Swan
    The Rich Man and the Tanner
    The Rivers and the Sea
    The Rose and the Amaranth

    The Salt Merchant and his Ass
    The Seagull and the Kite
    The Seaside Travelers
    The Seller of Images
    The Serpent and the Eagle
    The She-Goats and their Beards
    The Shepherd and the Dog
    The Shepherd and the Sea
    The Shepherd and the Sheep
    The Shepherd and the Wolf
    The Shepherd’s Boy and the Wolf
    The Shipwrecked Man and the Sea
    The Sick Kite
    The Sick Lion
    The Sick Stag
    The Sparrow and the Hare
    The Spendthrift and the Swallow
    The Stag at the Pool
    The Stag in the Ox-Stall
    The Stag, the Wolf, and the Sheep
    The Swallow and the Crow
    The Swallow, the Serpent, and the Court of Justice
    The Swan and the Goose
    The Swollen Fox

    The Thief and his Mother
    The Thief and the Housedog
    The Thief and the Innkeeper
    The Thieves and the Cock
    The Thirsty Pigeon
    The Three Tradesmen
    The Thrush and the Fowler
    The Tortoise and the Eagle
    The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse
    The Traveler and Fortune
    The Traveler and his Dog
    The Travelers and the Plane-Tree
    The Trees and the Axe
    The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods
    The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner
    Truth and the Traveler
    The Two Bags
    The Two Dogs
    The Two Frogs
    The Two Frogs
    The Two Men Who Were Enemies
    The Two Pots
    The Two Soldiers and the Robber
    The Two Travelers and the Axe

    The Vain Jackdaw
    The Vine and the Goat
    The Viper and the File

    The Walnut-Tree
    The Wasp and the Snake
    The Wasps, the Partridges, and the Farmer
    The Weasel and the Mice
    The Widow and Her Little Maidens
    The Widow and the Sheep
    The Wild Ass and the Lion
    The Wild Boar and the Fox
    The Wolf and the Crane
    The Wolf and the Fox
    The Wolf and the Goat
    The Wolf and the Horse
    The Wolf and the Housedog
    The Wolf and the Lamb
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Wolf and the Lion
    The Wolf and the Sheep
    The Wolf and the Shepherd
    The Wolf and the Shepherds
    The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape
    The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
    The Wolves and the Sheep
    The Wolves and the Sheepdogs
    The Woman and her Hen

  • The war of the worlds

    The war of the worlds

    Aproximadamente 61.003 palavras.

    /

    The War of the Worlds

    by H. G. Wells

    ‘But who shall dwell in these worlds if they be inhabited?
    . . . Are we or they Lords of the World? . . . And
    how are all things made for man?’
    KEPLER (quoted in _The Anatomy of Melancholy_)

    Contents

    BOOK ONE.—THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS

    I. THE EVE OF THE WAR.
    II. THE FALLING STAR.
    III. ON HORSELL COMMON.
    IV. THE CYLINDER OPENS.
    V. THE HEAT-RAY.
    VI. THE HEAT-RAY IN THE CHOBHAM ROAD.
    VII. HOW I REACHED HOME.
    VIII. FRIDAY NIGHT.
    IX. THE FIGHTING BEGINS.
    X. IN THE STORM.
    XI. AT THE WINDOW.
    XII. WHAT I SAW OF THE DESTRUCTION OF WEYBRIDGE AND SHEPPERTON.
    XIII. HOW I FELL IN WITH THE CURATE.
    XIV. IN LONDON.
    XV. WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN SURREY.
    XVI. THE EXODUS FROM LONDON.
    XVII. THE “THUNDER CHILD”.

    BOOK TWO.—THE EARTH UNDER THE MARTIANS

    I. UNDER FOOT.
    II. WHAT WE SAW FROM THE RUINED HOUSE.
    III. THE DAYS OF IMPRISONMENT.
    IV. THE DEATH OF THE CURATE.
    V. THE STILLNESS.
    VI. THE WORK OF FIFTEEN DAYS.
    VII. THE MAN ON PUTNEY HILL.
    VIII. DEAD LONDON.
    IX. WRECKAGE.
    X. THE EPILOGUE.

    BOOK ONE
    THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS

    I.
    THE EVE OF THE WAR.

    No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century
    that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences
    greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied
    themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and
    studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might
    scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of
    water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe
    about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire
    over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do
    the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources
    of human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life
    upon them as impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of
    the mental habits of those departed days. At most terrestrial men
    fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to
    themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the
    gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the
    beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic,
    regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their
    plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great
    disillusionment.

    The planet Mars, I scarcely need remind the reader, revolves about the
    sun at a mean distance of 140,000,000 miles, and the light and heat it
    receives from the sun is barely half of that received by this world. It
    must be, if the nebular hypothesis has any truth, older than our world;
    and long before this earth ceased to be molten, life upon its surface
    must have begun its course. The fact that it is scarcely one seventh of
    the volume of the earth must have accelerated its cooling to the
    temperature at which life could begin. It has air and water and all
    that is necessary for the support of animated existence.

    Yet so vain is man, and so blinded by his vanity, that no writer, up to
    the very end of the nineteenth century, expressed any idea that
    intelligent life might have developed there far, or indeed at all,
    beyond its earthly level. Nor was it generally understood that since
    Mars is older than our earth, with scarcely a quarter of the
    superficial area and remoter from the sun, it necessarily follows that
    it is not only more distant from time’s beginning but nearer its end.

    The secular cooling that must someday overtake our planet has already
    gone far indeed with our neighbour. Its physical condition is still
    largely a mystery, but we know now that even in its equatorial region
    the midday temperature barely approaches that of our coldest winter.
    Its air is much more attenuated than ours, its oceans have shrunk until
    they cover but a third of its surface, and as its slow seasons change
    huge snowcaps gather and melt about either pole and periodically
    inundate its temperate zones. That last stage of exhaustion, which to
    us is still incredibly remote, has become a present-day problem for the
    inhabitants of Mars. The immediate pressure of necessity has brightened
    their intellects, enlarged their powers, and hardened their hearts. And
    looking across space with instruments, and intelligences such as we
    have scarcely dreamed of, they see, at its nearest distance only
    35,000,000 of miles sunward of them, a morning star of hope, our own
    warmer planet, green with vegetation and grey with water, with a cloudy
    atmosphere eloquent of fertility, with glimpses through its drifting
    cloud wisps of broad stretches of populous country and narrow,
    navy-crowded seas.

    And we men, the creatures who inhabit this earth, must be to them at
    least as alien and lowly as are the monkeys and lemurs to us. The
    intellectual side of man already admits that life is an incessant
    struggle for existence, and it would seem that this too is the belief
    of the minds upon Mars. Their world is far gone in its cooling and this
    world is still crowded with life, but crowded only with what they
    regard as inferior animals. To carry warfare sunward is, indeed, their
    only escape from the destruction that, generation after generation,
    creeps upon them.

    And before we judge of them too harshly we must remember what ruthless
    and utter destruction our own species has wrought, not only upon
    animals, such as the vanished bison and the dodo, but upon its inferior
    races. The Tasmanians, in spite of their human likeness, were entirely
    swept out of existence in a war of extermination waged by European
    immigrants, in the space of fifty years. Are we such apostles of mercy
    as to complain if the Martians warred in the same spirit?

    The Martians seem to have calculated their descent with amazing
    subtlety—their mathematical learning is evidently far in excess of
    ours—and to have carried out their preparations with a well-nigh
    perfect unanimity. Had our instruments permitted it, we might have seen
    the gathering trouble far back in the nineteenth century. Men like
    Schiaparelli watched the red planet—it is odd, by-the-bye, that for
    countless centuries Mars has been the star of war—but failed to
    interpret the fluctuating appearances of the markings they mapped so
    well. All that time the Martians must have been getting ready.

    During the opposition of 1894 a great light was seen on the illuminated
    part of the disk, first at the Lick Observatory, then by Perrotin of
    Nice, and then by other observers. English readers heard of it first in
    the issue of _Nature_ dated August 2. I am inclined to think that this
    blaze may have been the casting of the huge gun, in the vast pit sunk
    into their planet, from which their shots were fired at us. Peculiar
    markings, as yet unexplained, were seen near the site of that outbreak
    during the next two oppositions.

    The storm burst upon us six years ago now. As Mars approached
    opposition, Lavelle of Java set the wires of the astronomical exchange
    palpitating with the amazing intelligence of a huge outbreak of
    incandescent gas upon the planet. It had occurred towards midnight of
    the twelfth; and the spectroscope, to which he had at once resorted,
    indicated a mass of flaming gas, chiefly hydrogen, moving with an
    enormous velocity towards this earth. This jet of fire had become
    invisible about a quarter past twelve. He compared it to a colossal
    puff of flame suddenly and violently squirted out of the planet, “as
    flaming gases rushed out of a gun.”

    A singularly appropriate phrase it proved. Yet the next day there was
    nothing of this in the papers except a little note in the _Daily
    Telegraph_, and the world went in ignorance of one of the gravest
    dangers that ever threatened the human race. I might not have heard of
    the eruption at all had I not met Ogilvy, the well-known astronomer, at
    Ottershaw. He was immensely excited at the news, and in the excess of
    his feelings invited me up to take a turn with him that night in a
    scrutiny of the red planet.

    In spite of all that has happened since, I still remember that vigil
    very distinctly: the black and silent observatory, the shadowed lantern
    throwing a feeble glow upon the floor in the corner, the steady ticking
    of the clockwork of the telescope, the little slit in the roof—an
    oblong profundity with the stardust streaked across it. Ogilvy moved
    about, invisible but audible. Looking through the telescope, one saw a
    circle of deep blue and the little round planet swimming in the field.
    It seemed such a little thing, so bright and small and still, faintly
    marked with transverse stripes, and slightly flattened from the perfect
    round. But so little it was, so silvery warm—a pin’s head of light! It
    was as if it quivered, but really this was the telescope vibrating with
    the activity of the clockwork that kept the planet in view.

    As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to
    advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty
    millions of miles it was from us—more than forty millions of miles of
    void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of
    the material universe swims.

    Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light,
    three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the
    unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks
    on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder.
    And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly
    and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer
    every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were
    sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity
    and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one
    on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.

    That night, too, there was another jetting out of gas from the distant
    planet. I saw it. A reddish flash at the edge, the slightest projection
    of the outline just as the chronometer struck midnight; and at that I
    told Ogilvy and he took my place. The night was warm and I was thirsty,
    and I went stretching my legs clumsily and feeling my way in the
    darkness, to the little table where the siphon stood, while Ogilvy
    exclaimed at the streamer of gas that came out towards us.

    That night another invisible missile started on its way to the earth
    from Mars, just a second or so under twenty-four hours after the first
    one. I remember how I sat on the table there in the blackness, with
    patches of green and crimson swimming before my eyes. I wished I had a
    light to smoke by, little suspecting the meaning of the minute gleam I
    had seen and all that it would presently bring me. Ogilvy watched till
    one, and then gave it up; and we lit the lantern and walked over to his
    house. Down below in the darkness were Ottershaw and Chertsey and all
    their hundreds of people, sleeping in peace.

    He was full of speculation that night about the condition of Mars, and
    scoffed at the vulgar idea of its having inhabitants who were
    signalling us. His idea was that meteorites might be falling in a heavy
    shower upon the planet, or that a huge volcanic explosion was in
    progress. He pointed out to me how unlikely it was that organic
    evolution had taken the same direction in the two adjacent planets.

    “The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one,” he
    said.

    Hundreds of observers saw the flame that night and the night after
    about midnight, and again the night after; and so for ten nights, a
    flame each night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one on earth
    has attempted to explain. It may be the gases of the firing caused the
    Martians inconvenience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, visible through
    a powerful telescope on earth as little grey, fluctuating patches,
    spread through the clearness of the planet’s atmosphere and obscured
    its more familiar features.

    Even the daily papers woke up to the disturbances at last, and popular
    notes appeared here, there, and everywhere concerning the volcanoes
    upon Mars. The seriocomic periodical _Punch_, I remember, made a happy
    use of it in the political cartoon. And, all unsuspected, those
    missiles the Martians had fired at us drew earthward, rushing now at a
    pace of many miles a second through the empty gulf of space, hour by
    hour and day by day, nearer and nearer. It seems to me now almost
    incredibly wonderful that, with that swift fate hanging over us, men
    could go about their petty concerns as they did. I remember how
    jubilant Markham was at securing a new photograph of the planet for the
    illustrated paper he edited in those days. People in these latter times
    scarcely realise the abundance and enterprise of our nineteenth-century
    papers. For my own part, I was much occupied in learning to ride the
    bicycle, and busy upon a series of papers discussing the probable
    developments of moral ideas as civilisation progressed.

    One night (the first missile then could scarcely have been 10,000,000
    miles away) I went for a walk with my wife. It was starlight and I
    explained the Signs of the Zodiac to her, and pointed out Mars, a
    bright dot of light creeping zenithward, towards which so many
    telescopes were pointed. It was a warm night. Coming home, a party of
    excursionists from Chertsey or Isleworth passed us singing and playing
    music. There were lights in the upper windows of the houses as the
    people went to bed. From the railway station in the distance came the
    sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into
    melody by the distance. My wife pointed out to me the brightness of the
    red, green, and yellow signal lights hanging in a framework against the
    sky. It seemed so safe and tranquil.

    II.
    THE FALLING STAR.

    Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the
    morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the
    atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and taken it for an ordinary
    falling star. Albin described it as leaving a greenish streak behind it
    that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest authority on
    meteorites, stated that the height of its first appearance was about
    ninety or one hundred miles. It seemed to him that it fell to earth
    about one hundred miles east of him.

    I was at home at that hour and writing in my study; and although my
    French windows face towards Ottershaw and the blind was up (for I loved
    in those days to look up at the night sky), I saw nothing of it. Yet
    this strangest of all things that ever came to earth from outer space
    must have fallen while I was sitting there, visible to me had I only
    looked up as it passed. Some of those who saw its flight say it
    travelled with a hissing sound. I myself heard nothing of that. Many
    people in Berkshire, Surrey, and Middlesex must have seen the fall of
    it, and, at most, have thought that another meteorite had descended. No
    one seems to have troubled to look for the fallen mass that night.

    But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who had seen the shooting
    star and who was persuaded that a meteorite lay somewhere on the common
    between Horsell, Ottershaw, and Woking, rose early with the idea of
    finding it. Find it he did, soon after dawn, and not far from the
    sand-pits. An enormous hole had been made by the impact of the
    projectile, and the sand and gravel had been flung violently in every
    direction over the heath, forming heaps visible a mile and a half away.
    The heather was on fire eastward, and a thin blue smoke rose against
    the dawn.

    The Thing itself lay almost entirely buried in sand, amidst the
    scattered splinters of a fir tree it had shivered to fragments in its
    descent. The uncovered part had the appearance of a huge cylinder,
    caked over and its outline softened by a thick scaly dun-coloured
    incrustation. It had a diameter of about thirty yards. He approached
    the mass, surprised at the size and more so at the shape, since most
    meteorites are rounded more or less completely. It was, however, still
    so hot from its flight through the air as to forbid his near approach.
    A stirring noise within its cylinder he ascribed to the unequal cooling
    of its surface; for at that time it had not occurred to him that it
    might be hollow.

    He remained standing at the edge of the pit that the Thing had made for
    itself, staring at its strange appearance, astonished chiefly at its
    unusual shape and colour, and dimly perceiving even then some evidence
    of design in its arrival. The early morning was wonderfully still, and
    the sun, just clearing the pine trees towards Weybridge, was already
    warm. He did not remember hearing any birds that morning, there was
    certainly no breeze stirring, and the only sounds were the faint
    movements from within the cindery cylinder. He was all alone on the
    common.

    Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some of the grey clinker,
    the ashy incrustation that covered the meteorite, was falling off the
    circular edge of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and raining
    down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly came off and fell with a
    sharp noise that brought his heart into his mouth.

    For a minute he scarcely realised what this meant, and, although the
    heat was excessive, he clambered down into the pit close to the bulk to
    see the Thing more clearly. He fancied even then that the cooling of
    the body might account for this, but what disturbed that idea was the
    fact that the ash was falling only from the end of the cylinder.

    And then he perceived that, very slowly, the circular top of the
    cylinder was rotating on its body. It was such a gradual movement that
    he discovered it only through noticing that a black mark that had been
    near him five minutes ago was now at the other side of the
    circumference. Even then he scarcely understood what this indicated,
    until he heard a muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk
    forward an inch or so. Then the thing came upon him in a flash. The
    cylinder was artificial—hollow—with an end that screwed out! Something
    within the cylinder was unscrewing the top!

    “Good heavens!” said Ogilvy. “There’s a man in it—men in it! Half
    roasted to death! Trying to escape!”

    At once, with a quick mental leap, he linked the Thing with the flash
    upon Mars.

    The thought of the confined creature was so dreadful to him that he
    forgot the heat and went forward to the cylinder to help turn. But
    luckily the dull radiation arrested him before he could burn his hands
    on the still-glowing metal. At that he stood irresolute for a moment,
    then turned, scrambled out of the pit, and set off running wildly into
    Woking. The time then must have been somewhere about six o’clock. He
    met a waggoner and tried to make him understand, but the tale he told
    and his appearance were so wild—his hat had fallen off in the pit—that
    the man simply drove on. He was equally unsuccessful with the potman
    who was just unlocking the doors of the public-house by Horsell Bridge.
    The fellow thought he was a lunatic at large and made an unsuccessful
    attempt to shut him into the taproom. That sobered him a little; and
    when he saw Henderson, the London journalist, in his garden, he called
    over the palings and made himself understood.

    “Henderson,” he called, “you saw that shooting star last night?”

    “Well?” said Henderson.

    “It’s out on Horsell Common now.”

    “Good Lord!” said Henderson. “Fallen meteorite! That’s good.”

    “But it’s something more than a meteorite. It’s a cylinder—an
    artificial cylinder, man! And there’s something inside.”

    Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand.

    “What’s that?” he said. He was deaf in one ear.

    Ogilvy told him all that he had seen. Henderson was a minute or so
    taking it in. Then he dropped his spade, snatched up his jacket, and
    came out into the road. The two men hurried back at once to the common,
    and found the cylinder still lying in the same position. But now the
    sounds inside had ceased, and a thin circle of bright metal showed
    between the top and the body of the cylinder. Air was either entering
    or escaping at the rim with a thin, sizzling sound.

    They listened, rapped on the scaly burnt metal with a stick, and,
    meeting with no response, they both concluded the man or men inside
    must be insensible or dead.

    Of course the two were quite unable to do anything. They shouted
    consolation and promises, and went off back to the town again to get
    help. One can imagine them, covered with sand, excited and disordered,
    running up the little street in the bright sunlight just as the shop
    folks were taking down their shutters and people were opening their
    bedroom windows. Henderson went into the railway station at once, in
    order to telegraph the news to London. The newspaper articles had
    prepared men’s minds for the reception of the idea.

    By eight o’clock a number of boys and unemployed men had already
    started for the common to see the “dead men from Mars.” That was the
    form the story took. I heard of it first from my newspaper boy about a
    quarter to nine when I went out to get my _Daily Chronicle_. I was
    naturally startled, and lost no time in going out and across the
    Ottershaw bridge to the sand-pits.

    III.
    ON HORSELL COMMON.

    I found a little crowd of perhaps twenty people surrounding the huge
    hole in which the cylinder lay. I have already described the appearance
    of that colossal bulk, embedded in the ground. The turf and gravel
    about it seemed charred as if by a sudden explosion. No doubt its
    impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy were not there.
    I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and
    had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house.

    There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their
    feet dangling, and amusing themselves—until I stopped them—by throwing
    stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they
    began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders.

    Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed
    sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little
    boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to
    hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of
    the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical
    ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table
    like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had
    left it. I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses
    was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was
    there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I
    heard a faint movement under my feet. The top had certainly ceased to
    rotate.

    It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this
    object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no
    more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the
    road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It
    required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the
    grey scale of the Thing was no common oxide, that the yellowish-white
    metal that gleamed in the crack between the lid and the cylinder had an
    unfamiliar hue. “Extra-terrestrial” had no meaning for most of the
    onlookers.

    At that time it was quite clear in my own mind that the Thing had come
    from the planet Mars, but I judged it improbable that it contained any
    living creature. I thought the unscrewing might be automatic. In spite
    of Ogilvy, I still believed that there were men in Mars. My mind ran
    fancifully on the possibilities of its containing manuscript, on the
    difficulties in translation that might arise, whether we should find
    coins and models in it, and so forth. Yet it was a little too large for
    assurance on this idea. I felt an impatience to see it opened. About
    eleven, as nothing seemed happening, I walked back, full of such
    thought, to my home in Maybury. But I found it difficult to get to work
    upon my abstract investigations.

    In the afternoon the appearance of the common had altered very much.
    The early editions of the evening papers had startled London with
    enormous headlines:

    “A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS.”

    “REMARKABLE STORY FROM WOKING,”

    and so forth. In addition, Ogilvy’s wire to the Astronomical Exchange
    had roused every observatory in the three kingdoms.

    There were half a dozen flys or more from the Woking station standing
    in the road by the sand-pits, a basket-chaise from Chobham, and a
    rather lordly carriage. Besides that, there was quite a heap of
    bicycles. In addition, a large number of people must have walked, in
    spite of the heat of the day, from Woking and Chertsey, so that there
    was altogether quite a considerable crowd—one or two gaily dressed
    ladies among the others.

    It was glaringly hot, not a cloud in the sky nor a breath of wind, and
    the only shadow was that of the few scattered pine trees. The burning
    heather had been extinguished, but the level ground towards Ottershaw
    was blackened as far as one could see, and still giving off vertical
    streamers of smoke. An enterprising sweet-stuff dealer in the Chobham
    Road had sent up his son with a barrow-load of green apples and ginger
    beer.

    Going to the edge of the pit, I found it occupied by a group of about
    half a dozen men—Henderson, Ogilvy, and a tall, fair-haired man that I
    afterwards learned was Stent, the Astronomer Royal, with several
    workmen wielding spades and pickaxes. Stent was giving directions in a
    clear, high-pitched voice. He was standing on the cylinder, which was
    now evidently much cooler; his face was crimson and streaming with
    perspiration, and something seemed to have irritated him.

    A large portion of the cylinder had been uncovered, though its lower
    end was still embedded. As soon as Ogilvy saw me among the staring
    crowd on the edge of the pit he called to me to come down, and asked me
    if I would mind going over to see Lord Hilton, the lord of the manor.

    The growing crowd, he said, was becoming a serious impediment to their
    excavations, especially the boys. They wanted a light railing put up,
    and help to keep the people back. He told me that a faint stirring was
    occasionally still audible within the case, but that the workmen had
    failed to unscrew the top, as it afforded no grip to them. The case
    appeared to be enormously thick, and it was possible that the faint
    sounds we heard represented a noisy tumult in the interior.

    I was very glad to do as he asked, and so become one of the privileged
    spectators within the contemplated enclosure. I failed to find Lord
    Hilton at his house, but I was told he was expected from London by the
    six o’clock train from Waterloo; and as it was then about a quarter
    past five, I went home, had some tea, and walked up to the station to
    waylay him.

    IV.
    THE CYLINDER OPENS.

    When I returned to the common the sun was setting. Scattered groups
    were hurrying from the direction of Woking, and one or two persons were
    returning. The crowd about the pit had increased, and stood out black
    against the lemon yellow of the sky—a couple of hundred people,
    perhaps. There were raised voices, and some sort of struggle appeared
    to be going on about the pit. Strange imaginings passed through my
    mind. As I drew nearer I heard Stent’s voice:

    “Keep back! Keep back!”

    A boy came running towards me.

    “It’s a-movin’,” he said to me as he passed; “a-screwin’ and a-screwin’
    out. I don’t like it. I’m a-goin’ ’ome, I am.”

    I went on to the crowd. There were really, I should think, two or three
    hundred people elbowing and jostling one another, the one or two ladies
    there being by no means the least active.

    “He’s fallen in the pit!” cried some one.

    “Keep back!” said several.

    The crowd swayed a little, and I elbowed my way through. Every one
    seemed greatly excited. I heard a peculiar humming sound from the pit.

    “I say!” said Ogilvy; “help keep these idiots back. We don’t know
    what’s in the confounded thing, you know!”

    I saw a young man, a shop assistant in Woking I believe he was,
    standing on the cylinder and trying to scramble out of the hole again.
    The crowd had pushed him in.

    The end of the cylinder was being screwed out from within. Nearly two
    feet of shining screw projected. Somebody blundered against me, and I
    narrowly missed being pitched onto the top of the screw. I turned, and
    as I did so the screw must have come out, for the lid of the cylinder
    fell upon the gravel with a ringing concussion. I stuck my elbow into
    the person behind me, and turned my head towards the Thing again. For a
    moment that circular cavity seemed perfectly black. I had the sunset in
    my eyes.

    I think everyone expected to see a man emerge—possibly something a
    little unlike us terrestrial men, but in all essentials a man. I know I
    did. But, looking, I presently saw something stirring within the
    shadow: greyish billowy movements, one above another, and then two
    luminous disks—like eyes. Then something resembling a little grey
    snake, about the thickness of a walking stick, coiled up out of the
    writhing middle, and wriggled in the air towards me—and then another.

    A sudden chill came over me. There was a loud shriek from a woman
    behind. I half turned, keeping my eyes fixed upon the cylinder still,
    from which other tentacles were now projecting, and began pushing my
    way back from the edge of the pit. I saw astonishment giving place to
    horror on the faces of the people about me. I heard inarticulate
    exclamations on all sides. There was a general movement backwards. I
    saw the shopman struggling still on the edge of the pit. I found myself
    alone, and saw the people on the other side of the pit running off,
    Stent among them. I looked again at the cylinder, and ungovernable
    terror gripped me. I stood petrified and staring.

    A big greyish rounded bulk, the size, perhaps, of a bear, was rising
    slowly and painfully out of the cylinder. As it bulged up and caught
    the light, it glistened like wet leather.

    Two large dark-coloured eyes were regarding me steadfastly. The mass
    that framed them, the head of the thing, was rounded, and had, one
    might say, a face. There was a mouth under the eyes, the lipless brim
    of which quivered and panted, and dropped saliva. The whole creature
    heaved and pulsated convulsively. A lank tentacular appendage gripped
    the edge of the cylinder, another swayed in the air.

    Those who have never seen a living Martian can scarcely imagine the
    strange horror of its appearance. The peculiar V-shaped mouth with its
    pointed upper lip, the absence of brow ridges, the absence of a chin
    beneath the wedgelike lower lip, the incessant quivering of this mouth,
    the Gorgon groups of tentacles, the tumultuous breathing of the lungs
    in a strange atmosphere, the evident heaviness and painfulness of
    movement due to the greater gravitational energy of the earth—above
    all, the extraordinary intensity of the immense eyes—were at once
    vital, intense, inhuman, crippled and monstrous. There was something
    fungoid in the oily brown skin, something in the clumsy deliberation of
    the tedious movements unspeakably nasty. Even at this first encounter,
    this first glimpse, I was overcome with disgust and dread.

    Suddenly the monster vanished. It had toppled over the brim of the
    cylinder and fallen into the pit, with a thud like the fall of a great
    mass of leather. I heard it give a peculiar thick cry, and forthwith
    another of these creatures appeared darkly in the deep shadow of the
    aperture.

    I turned and, running madly, made for the first group of trees, perhaps
    a hundred yards away; but I ran slantingly and stumbling, for I could
    not avert my face from these things.

    There, among some young pine trees and furze bushes, I stopped,
    panting, and waited further developments. The common round the
    sand-pits was dotted with people, standing like myself in a
    half-fascinated terror, staring at these creatures, or rather at the
    heaped gravel at the edge of the pit in which they lay. And then, with
    a renewed horror, I saw a round, black object bobbing up and down on
    the edge of the pit. It was the head of the shopman who had fallen in,
    but showing as a little black object against the hot western sun. Now
    he got his shoulder and knee up, and again he seemed to slip back until
    only his head was visible. Suddenly he vanished, and I could have
    fancied a faint shriek had reached me. I had a momentary impulse to go
    back and help him that my fears overruled.

    Everything was then quite invisible, hidden by the deep pit and the
    heap of sand that the fall of the cylinder had made. Anyone coming
    along the road from Chobham or Woking would have been amazed at the
    sight—a dwindling multitude of perhaps a hundred people or more
    standing in a great irregular circle, in ditches, behind bushes, behind
    gates and hedges, saying little to one another and that in short,
    excited shouts, and staring, staring hard at a few heaps of sand. The
    barrow of ginger beer stood, a queer derelict, black against the
    burning sky, and in the sand-pits was a row of deserted vehicles with
    their horses feeding out of nosebags or pawing the ground.

    V.
    THE HEAT-RAY.

    After the glimpse I had had of the Martians emerging from the cylinder
    in which they had come to the earth from their planet, a kind of
    fascination paralysed my actions. I remained standing knee-deep in the
    heather, staring at the mound that hid them. I was a battleground of
    fear and curiosity.

    I did not dare to go back towards the pit, but I felt a passionate
    longing to peer into it. I began walking, therefore, in a big curve,
    seeking some point of vantage and continually looking at the sand-heaps
    that hid these new-comers to our earth. Once a leash of thin black
    whips, like the arms of an octopus, flashed across the sunset and was
    immediately withdrawn, and afterwards a thin rod rose up, joint by
    joint, bearing at its apex a circular disk that spun with a wobbling
    motion. What could be going on there?

    Most of the spectators had gathered in one or two groups—one a little
    crowd towards Woking, the other a knot of people in the direction of
    Chobham. Evidently they shared my mental conflict. There were few near
    me. One man I approached—he was, I perceived, a neighbour of mine,
    though I did not know his name—and accosted. But it was scarcely a time
    for articulate conversation.

    “What ugly _brutes_!” he said. “Good God! What ugly brutes!” He
    repeated this over and over again.

    “Did you see a man in the pit?” I said; but he made no answer to that.
    We became silent, and stood watching for a time side by side, deriving,
    I fancy, a certain comfort in one another’s company. Then I shifted my
    position to a little knoll that gave me the advantage of a yard or more
    of elevation and when I looked for him presently he was walking towards
    Woking.

    The sunset faded to twilight before anything further happened. The
    crowd far away on the left, towards Woking, seemed to grow, and I heard
    now a faint murmur from it. The little knot of people towards Chobham
    dispersed. There was scarcely an intimation of movement from the pit.

    It was this, as much as anything, that gave people courage, and I
    suppose the new arrivals from Woking also helped to restore confidence.
    At any rate, as the dusk came on a slow, intermittent movement upon the
    sand-pits began, a movement that seemed to gather force as the
    stillness of the evening about the cylinder remained unbroken. Vertical
    black figures in twos and threes would advance, stop, watch, and
    advance again, spreading out as they did so in a thin irregular
    crescent that promised to enclose the pit in its attenuated horns. I,
    too, on my side began to move towards the pit.

    Then I saw some cabmen and others had walked boldly into the sand-pits,
    and heard the clatter of hoofs and the gride of wheels. I saw a lad
    trundling off the barrow of apples. And then, within thirty yards of
    the pit, advancing from the direction of Horsell, I noted a little
    black knot of men, the foremost of whom was waving a white flag.

    This was the Deputation. There had been a hasty consultation, and since
    the Martians were evidently, in spite of their repulsive forms,
    intelligent creatures, it had been resolved to show them, by
    approaching them with signals, that we too were intelligent.

    Flutter, flutter, went the flag, first to the right, then to the left.
    It was too far for me to recognise anyone there, but afterwards I
    learned that Ogilvy, Stent, and Henderson were with others in this
    attempt at communication. This little group had in its advance dragged
    inward, so to speak, the circumference of the now almost complete
    circle of people, and a number of dim black figures followed it at
    discreet distances.

    Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a quantity of luminous
    greenish smoke came out of the pit in three distinct puffs, which drove
    up, one after the other, straight into the still air.

    This smoke (or flame, perhaps, would be the better word for it) was so
    bright that the deep blue sky overhead and the hazy stretches of brown
    common towards Chertsey, set with black pine trees, seemed to darken
    abruptly as these puffs arose, and to remain the darker after their
    dispersal. At the same time a faint hissing sound became audible.

    Beyond the pit stood the little wedge of people with the white flag at
    its apex, arrested by these phenomena, a little knot of small vertical
    black shapes upon the black ground. As the green smoke arose, their
    faces flashed out pallid green, and faded again as it vanished. Then
    slowly the hissing passed into a humming, into a long, loud, droning
    noise. Slowly a humped shape rose out of the pit, and the ghost of a
    beam of light seemed to flicker out from it.

    Forthwith flashes of actual flame, a bright glare leaping from one to
    another, sprang from the scattered group of men. It was as if some
    invisible jet impinged upon them and flashed into white flame. It was
    as if each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire.

    Then, by the light of their own destruction, I saw them staggering and
    falling, and their supporters turning to run.

    I stood staring, not as yet realising that this was death leaping from
    man to man in that little distant crowd. All I felt was that it was
    something very strange. An almost noiseless and blinding flash of
    light, and a man fell headlong and lay still; and as the unseen shaft
    of heat passed over them, pine trees burst into fire, and every dry
    furze bush became with one dull thud a mass of flames. And far away
    towards Knaphill I saw the flashes of trees and hedges and wooden
    buildings suddenly set alight.

    It was sweeping round swiftly and steadily, this flaming death, this
    invisible, inevitable sword of heat. I perceived it coming towards me
    by the flashing bushes it touched, and was too astounded and stupefied
    to stir. I heard the crackle of fire in the sand-pits and the sudden
    squeal of a horse that was as suddenly stilled. Then it was as if an
    invisible yet intensely heated finger were drawn through the heather
    between me and the Martians, and all along a curving line beyond the
    sand-pits the dark ground smoked and crackled. Something fell with a
    crash far away to the left where the road from Woking station opens out
    on the common. Forth-with the hissing and humming ceased, and the
    black, dome-like object sank slowly out of sight into the pit.

    All this had happened with such swiftness that I had stood motionless,
    dumbfounded and dazzled by the flashes of light. Had that death swept
    through a full circle, it must inevitably have slain me in my surprise.
    But it passed and spared me, and left the night about me suddenly dark
    and unfamiliar.

    The undulating common seemed now dark almost to blackness, except where
    its roadways lay grey and pale under the deep blue sky of the early
    night. It was dark, and suddenly void of men. Overhead the stars were
    mustering, and in the west the sky was still a pale, bright, almost
    greenish blue. The tops of the pine trees and the roofs of Horsell came
    out sharp and black against the western afterglow. The Martians and
    their appliances were altogether invisible, save for that thin mast
    upon which their restless mirror wobbled. Patches of bush and isolated
    trees here and there smoked and glowed still, and the houses towards
    Woking station were sending up spires of flame into the stillness of
    the evening air.

    Nothing was changed save for that and a terrible astonishment. The
    little group of black specks with the flag of white had been swept out
    of existence, and the stillness of the evening, so it seemed to me, had
    scarcely been broken.

    It came to me that I was upon this dark common, helpless, unprotected,
    and alone. Suddenly, like a thing falling upon me from without,
    came—fear.

    With an effort I turned and began a stumbling run through the heather.

    The fear I felt was no rational fear, but a panic terror not only of
    the Martians, but of the dusk and stillness all about me. Such an
    extraordinary effect in unmanning me it had that I ran weeping silently
    as a child might do. Once I had turned, I did not dare to look back.

    I remember I felt an extraordinary persuasion that I was being played
    with, that presently, when I was upon the very verge of safety, this
    mysterious death—as swift as the passage of light—would leap after me
    from the pit about the cylinder, and strike me down.

    VI.
    THE HEAT-RAY IN THE CHOBHAM ROAD.

    It is still a matter of wonder how the Martians are able to slay men so
    swiftly and so silently. Many think that in some way they are able to
    generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute
    non-conductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam
    against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror
    of unknown composition, much as the parabolic mirror of a lighthouse
    projects a beam of light. But no one has absolutely proved these
    details. However it is done, it is certain that a beam of heat is the
    essence of the matter. Heat, and invisible, instead of visible, light.
    Whatever is combustible flashes into flame at its touch, lead runs like
    water, it softens iron, cracks and melts glass, and when it falls upon
    water, incontinently that explodes into steam.

    That night nearly forty people lay under the starlight about the pit,
    charred and distorted beyond recognition, and all night long the common
    from Horsell to Maybury was deserted and brightly ablaze.

    The news of the massacre probably reached Chobham, Woking, and
    Ottershaw about the same time. In Woking the shops had closed when the
    tragedy happened, and a number of people, shop people and so forth,
    attracted by the stories they had heard, were walking over the Horsell
    Bridge and along the road between the hedges that runs out at last upon
    the common. You may imagine the young people brushed up after the
    labours of the day, and making this novelty, as they would make any
    novelty, the excuse for walking together and enjoying a trivial
    flirtation. You may figure to yourself the hum of voices along the road
    in the gloaming. . . .

    As yet, of course, few people in Woking even knew that the cylinder had
    opened, though poor Henderson had sent a messenger on a bicycle to the
    post office with a special wire to an evening paper.

    As these folks came out by twos and threes upon the open, they found
    little knots of people talking excitedly and peering at the spinning
    mirror over the sand-pits, and the newcomers were, no doubt, soon
    infected by the excitement of the occasion.

    By half past eight, when the Deputation was destroyed, there may have
    been a crowd of three hundred people or more at this place, besides
    those who had left the road to approach the Martians nearer. There were
    three policemen too, one of whom was mounted, doing their best, under
    instructions from Stent, to keep the people back and deter them from
    approaching the cylinder. There was some booing from those more
    thoughtless and excitable souls to whom a crowd is always an occasion
    for noise and horse-play.

    Stent and Ogilvy, anticipating some possibilities of a collision, had
    telegraphed from Horsell to the barracks as soon as the Martians
    emerged, for the help of a company of soldiers to protect these strange
    creatures from violence. After that they returned to lead that
    ill-fated advance. The description of their death, as it was seen by
    the crowd, tallies very closely with my own impressions: the three
    puffs of green smoke, the deep humming note, and the flashes of flame.

    But that crowd of people had a far narrower escape than mine. Only the
    fact that a hummock of heathery sand intercepted the lower part of the
    Heat-Ray saved them. Had the elevation of the parabolic mirror been a
    few yards higher, none could have lived to tell the tale. They saw the
    flashes and the men falling and an invisible hand, as it were, lit the
    bushes as it hurried towards them through the twilight. Then, with a
    whistling note that rose above the droning of the pit, the beam swung
    close over their heads, lighting the tops of the beech trees that line
    the road, and splitting the bricks, smashing the windows, firing the
    window frames, and bringing down in crumbling ruin a portion of the
    gable of the house nearest the corner.

    In the sudden thud, hiss, and glare of the igniting trees, the
    panic-stricken crowd seems to have swayed hesitatingly for some
    moments. Sparks and burning twigs began to fall into the road, and
    single leaves like puffs of flame. Hats and dresses caught fire. Then
    came a crying from the common. There were shrieks and shouts, and
    suddenly a mounted policeman came galloping through the confusion with
    his hands clasped over his head, screaming.

    “They’re coming!” a woman shrieked, and incontinently everyone was
    turning and pushing at those behind, in order to clear their way to
    Woking again. They must have bolted as blindly as a flock of sheep.
    Where the road grows narrow and black between the high banks the crowd
    jammed, and a desperate struggle occurred. All that crowd did not
    escape; three persons at least, two women and a little boy, were
    crushed and trampled there, and left to die amid the terror and the
    darkness.

    VII.
    HOW I REACHED HOME.

    For my own part, I remember nothing of my flight except the stress of
    blundering against trees and stumbling through the heather. All about
    me gathered the invisible terrors of the Martians; that pitiless sword
    of heat seemed whirling to and fro, flourishing overhead before it
    descended and smote me out of life. I came into the road between the
    crossroads and Horsell, and ran along this to the crossroads.

    At last I could go no further; I was exhausted with the violence of my
    emotion and of my flight, and I staggered and fell by the wayside. That
    was near the bridge that crosses the canal by the gasworks. I fell and
    lay still.

    I must have remained there some time.

    I sat up, strangely perplexed. For a moment, perhaps, I could not
    clearly understand how I came there. My terror had fallen from me like
    a garment. My hat had gone, and my collar had burst away from its
    fastener. A few minutes before, there had only been three real things
    before me—the immensity of the night and space and nature, my own
    feebleness and anguish, and the near approach of death. Now it was as
    if something turned over, and the point of view altered abruptly. There
    was no sensible transition from one state of mind to the other. I was
    immediately the self of every day again—a decent, ordinary citizen. The
    silent common, the impulse of my flight, the starting flames, were as
    if they had been in a dream. I asked myself had these latter things
    indeed happened? I could not credit it.

    I rose and walked unsteadily up the steep incline of the bridge. My
    mind was blank wonder. My muscles and nerves seemed drained of their
    strength. I dare say I staggered drunkenly. A head rose over the arch,
    and the figure of a workman carrying a basket appeared. Beside him ran
    a little boy. He passed me, wishing me good night. I was minded to
    speak to him, but did not. I answered his greeting with a meaningless
    mumble and went on over the bridge.

    Over the Maybury arch a train, a billowing tumult of white, firelit
    smoke, and a long caterpillar of lighted windows, went flying
    south—clatter, clatter, clap, rap, and it had gone. A dim group of
    people talked in the gate of one of the houses in the pretty little row
    of gables that was called Oriental Terrace. It was all so real and so
    familiar. And that behind me! It was frantic, fantastic! Such things, I
    told myself, could not be.

    Perhaps I am a man of exceptional moods. I do not know how far my
    experience is common. At times I suffer from the strangest sense of
    detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all
    from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time, out
    of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all. This feeling was
    very strong upon me that night. Here was another side to my dream.

    But the trouble was the blank incongruity of this serenity and the
    swift death flying yonder, not two miles away. There was a noise of
    business from the gasworks, and the electric lamps were all alight. I
    stopped at the group of people.

    “What news from the common?” said I.

    There were two men and a woman at the gate.

    “Eh?” said one of the men, turning.

    “What news from the common?” I said.

    “Ain’t yer just _been_ there?” asked the men.

    “People seem fair silly about the common,” said the woman over the
    gate. “What’s it all abart?”

    “Haven’t you heard of the men from Mars?” said I; “the creatures from
    Mars?”

    “Quite enough,” said the woman over the gate. “Thenks;” and all three
    of them laughed.

    I felt foolish and angry. I tried and found I could not tell them what
    I had seen. They laughed again at my broken sentences.

    “You’ll hear more yet,” I said, and went on to my home.

    I startled my wife at the doorway, so haggard was I. I went into the
    dining room, sat down, drank some wine, and so soon as I could collect
    myself sufficiently I told her the things I had seen. The dinner, which
    was a cold one, had already been served, and remained neglected on the
    table while I told my story.

    “There is one thing,” I said, to allay the fears I had aroused; “they
    are the most sluggish things I ever saw crawl. They may keep the pit
    and kill people who come near them, but they cannot get out of it. . .
    . But the horror of them!”

    “Don’t, dear!” said my wife, knitting her brows and putting her hand on
    mine.

    “Poor Ogilvy!” I said. “To think he may be lying dead there!”

    My wife at least did not find my experience incredible. When I saw how
    deadly white her face was, I ceased abruptly.

    “They may come here,” she said again and again.

    I pressed her to take wine, and tried to reassure her.

    “They can scarcely move,” I said.

    I began to comfort her and myself by repeating all that Ogilvy had told
    me of the impossibility of the Martians establishing themselves on the
    earth. In particular I laid stress on the gravitational difficulty. On
    the surface of the earth the force of gravity is three times what it is
    on the surface of Mars. A Martian, therefore, would weigh three times
    more than on Mars, albeit his muscular strength would be the same. His
    own body would be a cope of lead to him, therefore. That, indeed, was
    the general opinion. Both _The Times_ and the _Daily Telegraph_, for
    instance, insisted on it the next morning, and both overlooked, just as
    I did, two obvious modifying influences.

    The atmosphere of the earth, we now know, contains far more oxygen or
    far less argon (whichever way one likes to put it) than does Mars’. The
    invigorating influences of this excess of oxygen upon the Martians
    indisputably did much to counterbalance the increased weight of their
    bodies. And, in the second place, we all overlooked the fact that such
    mechanical intelligence as the Martian possessed was quite able to
    dispense with muscular exertion at a pinch.

    But I did not consider these points at the time, and so my reasoning
    was dead against the chances of the invaders. With wine and food, the
    confidence of my own table, and the necessity of reassuring my wife, I
    grew by insensible degrees courageous and secure.

    “They have done a foolish thing,” said I, fingering my wineglass. “They
    are dangerous because, no doubt, they are mad with terror. Perhaps they
    expected to find no living things—certainly no intelligent living
    things.”

    “A shell in the pit,” said I, “if the worst comes to the worst, will
    kill them all.”

    The intense excitement of the events had no doubt left my perceptive
    powers in a state of erethism. I remember that dinner table with
    extraordinary vividness even now. My dear wife’s sweet anxious face
    peering at me from under the pink lamp shade, the white cloth with its
    silver and glass table furniture—for in those days even philosophical
    writers had many little luxuries—the crimson-purple wine in my glass,
    are photographically distinct. At the end of it I sat, tempering nuts
    with a cigarette, regretting Ogilvy’s rashness, and denouncing the
    short-sighted timidity of the Martians.

    So some respectable dodo in the Mauritius might have lorded it in his
    nest, and discussed the arrival of that shipful of pitiless sailors in
    want of animal food. “We will peck them to death tomorrow, my dear.”

    I did not know it, but that was the last civilised dinner I was to eat
    for very many strange and terrible days.

    VIII.
    FRIDAY NIGHT.

    The most extraordinary thing to my mind, of all the strange and
    wonderful things that happened upon that Friday, was the dovetailing of
    the commonplace habits of our social order with the first beginnings of
    the series of events that was to topple that social order headlong. If
    on Friday night you had taken a pair of compasses and drawn a circle
    with a radius of five miles round the Woking sand-pits, I doubt if you
    would have had one human being outside it, unless it were some relation
    of Stent or of the three or four cyclists or London people lying dead
    on the common, whose emotions or habits were at all affected by the
    new-comers. Many people had heard of the cylinder, of course, and
    talked about it in their leisure, but it certainly did not make the
    sensation that an ultimatum to Germany would have done.

    In London that night poor Henderson’s telegram describing the gradual
    unscrewing of the shot was judged to be a canard, and his evening
    paper, after wiring for authentication from him and receiving no
    reply—the man was killed—decided not to print a special edition.

    Even within the five-mile circle the great majority of people were
    inert. I have already described the behaviour of the men and women to
    whom I spoke. All over the district people were dining and supping;
    working men were gardening after the labours of the day, children were
    being put to bed, young people were wandering through the lanes
    love-making, students sat over their books.

    Maybe there was a murmur in the village streets, a novel and dominant
    topic in the public-houses, and here and there a messenger, or even an
    eye-witness of the later occurrences, caused a whirl of excitement, a
    shouting, and a running to and fro; but for the most part the daily
    routine of working, eating, drinking, sleeping, went on as it had done
    for countless years—as though no planet Mars existed in the sky. Even
    at Woking station and Horsell and Chobham that was the case.

    In Woking junction, until a late hour, trains were stopping and going
    on, others were shunting on the sidings, passengers were alighting and
    waiting, and everything was proceeding in the most ordinary way. A boy
    from the town, trenching on Smith’s monopoly, was selling papers with
    the afternoon’s news. The ringing impact of trucks, the sharp whistle
    of the engines from the junction, mingled with their shouts of “Men
    from Mars!” Excited men came into the station about nine o’clock with
    incredible tidings, and caused no more disturbance than drunkards might
    have done. People rattling Londonwards peered into the darkness outside
    the carriage windows, and saw only a rare, flickering, vanishing spark
    dance up from the direction of Horsell, a red glow and a thin veil of
    smoke driving across the stars, and thought that nothing more serious
    than a heath fire was happening. It was only round the edge of the
    common that any disturbance was perceptible. There were half a dozen
    villas burning on the Woking border. There were lights in all the
    houses on the common side of the three villages, and the people there
    kept awake till dawn.

    A curious crowd lingered restlessly, people coming and going but the
    crowd remaining, both on the Chobham and Horsell bridges. One or two
    adventurous souls, it was afterwards found, went into the darkness and
    crawled quite near the Martians; but they never returned, for now and
    again a light-ray, like the beam of a warship’s searchlight swept the
    common, and the Heat-Ray was ready to follow. Save for such, that big
    area of common was silent and desolate, and the charred bodies lay
    about on it all night under the stars, and all the next day. A noise of
    hammering from the pit was heard by many people.

    So you have the state of things on Friday night. In the centre,
    sticking into the skin of our old planet Earth like a poisoned dart,
    was this cylinder. But the poison was scarcely working yet. Around it
    was a patch of silent common, smouldering in places, and with a few
    dark, dimly seen objects lying in contorted attitudes here and there.
    Here and there was a burning bush or tree. Beyond was a fringe of
    excitement, and farther than that fringe the inflammation had not crept
    as yet. In the rest of the world the stream of life still flowed as it
    had flowed for immemorial years. The fever of war that would presently
    clog vein and artery, deaden nerve and destroy brain, had still to
    develop.

    All night long the Martians were hammering and stirring, sleepless,
    indefatigable, at work upon the machines they were making ready, and
    ever and again a puff of greenish-white smoke whirled up to the starlit
    sky.

    About eleven a company of soldiers came through Horsell, and deployed
    along the edge of the common to form a cordon. Later a second company
    marched through Chobham to deploy on the north side of the common.
    Several officers from the Inkerman barracks had been on the common
    earlier in the day, and one, Major Eden, was reported to be missing.
    The colonel of the regiment came to the Chobham bridge and was busy
    questioning the crowd at midnight. The military authorities were
    certainly alive to the seriousness of the business. About eleven, the
    next morning’s papers were able to say, a squadron of hussars, two
    Maxims, and about four hundred men of the Cardigan regiment started
    from Aldershot.

    A few seconds after midnight the crowd in the Chertsey road, Woking,
    saw a star fall from heaven into the pine woods to the northwest. It
    had a greenish colour, and caused a silent brightness like summer
    lightning. This was the second cylinder.

    IX.
    THE FIGHTING BEGINS.

    Saturday lives in my memory as a day of suspense. It was a day of
    lassitude too, hot and close, with, I am told, a rapidly fluctuating
    barometer. I had slept but little, though my wife had succeeded in
    sleeping, and I rose early. I went into my garden before breakfast and
    stood listening, but towards the common there was nothing stirring but
    a lark.

    The milkman came as usual. I heard the rattle of his chariot and I went
    round to the side gate to ask the latest news. He told me that during
    the night the Martians had been surrounded by troops, and that guns
    were expected. Then—a familiar, reassuring note—I heard a train running
    towards Woking.

    “They aren’t to be killed,” said the milkman, “if that can possibly be
    avoided.”

    I saw my neighbour gardening, chatted with him for a time, and then
    strolled in to breakfast. It was a most unexceptional morning. My
    neighbour was of opinion that the troops would be able to capture or to
    destroy the Martians during the day.

    “It’s a pity they make themselves so unapproachable,” he said. “It
    would be curious to know how they live on another planet; we might
    learn a thing or two.”

    He came up to the fence and extended a handful of strawberries, for his
    gardening was as generous as it was enthusiastic. At the same time he
    told me of the burning of the pine woods about the Byfleet Golf Links.

    “They say,” said he, “that there’s another of those blessed things
    fallen there—number two. But one’s enough, surely. This lot’ll cost the
    insurance people a pretty penny before everything’s settled.” He
    laughed with an air of the greatest good humour as he said this. The
    woods, he said, were still burning, and pointed out a haze of smoke to
    me. “They will be hot under foot for days, on account of the thick soil
    of pine needles and turf,” he said, and then grew serious over “poor
    Ogilvy.”

    After breakfast, instead of working, I decided to walk down towards the
    common. Under the railway bridge I found a group of soldiers—sappers, I
    think, men in small round caps, dirty red jackets unbuttoned, and
    showing their blue shirts, dark trousers, and boots coming to the calf.
    They told me no one was allowed over the canal, and, looking along the
    road towards the bridge, I saw one of the Cardigan men standing
    sentinel there. I talked with these soldiers for a time; I told them of
    my sight of the Martians on the previous evening. None of them had seen
    the Martians, and they had but the vaguest ideas of them, so that they
    plied me with questions. They said that they did not know who had
    authorised the movements of the troops; their idea was that a dispute
    had arisen at the Horse Guards. The ordinary sapper is a great deal
    better educated than the common soldier, and they discussed the
    peculiar conditions of the possible fight with some acuteness. I
    described the Heat-Ray to them, and they began to argue among
    themselves.

    “Crawl up under cover and rush ’em, say I,” said one.

    “Get aht!” said another. “What’s cover against this ’ere ’eat? Sticks
    to cook yer! What we got to do is to go as near as the ground’ll let
    us, and then drive a trench.”

    “Blow yer trenches! You always want trenches; you ought to ha’ been
    born a rabbit, Snippy.”

    “Ain’t they got any necks, then?” said a third, abruptly—a little,
    contemplative, dark man, smoking a pipe.

    I repeated my description.

    “Octopuses,” said he, “that’s what I calls ’em. Talk about fishers of
    men—fighters of fish it is this time!”

    “It ain’t no murder killing beasts like that,” said the first speaker.

    “Why not shell the darned things strite off and finish ’em?” said the
    little dark man. “You carn tell what they might do.”

    “Where’s your shells?” said the first speaker. “There ain’t no time. Do
    it in a rush, that’s my tip, and do it at once.”

    So they discussed it. After a while I left them, and went on to the
    railway station to get as many morning papers as I could.

    But I will not weary the reader with a description of that long morning
    and of the longer afternoon. I did not succeed in getting a glimpse of
    the common, for even Horsell and Chobham church towers were in the
    hands of the military authorities. The soldiers I addressed didn’t know
    anything; the officers were mysterious as well as busy. I found people
    in the town quite secure again in the presence of the military, and I
    heard for the first time from Marshall, the tobacconist, that his son
    was among the dead on the common. The soldiers had made the people on
    the outskirts of Horsell lock up and leave their houses.

    I got back to lunch about two, very tired for, as I have said, the day
    was extremely hot and dull; and in order to refresh myself I took a
    cold bath in the afternoon. About half past four I went up to the
    railway station to get an evening paper, for the morning papers had
    contained only a very inaccurate description of the killing of Stent,
    Henderson, Ogilvy, and the others. But there was little I didn’t know.
    The Martians did not show an inch of themselves. They seemed busy in
    their pit, and there was a sound of hammering and an almost continuous
    streamer of smoke. Apparently they were busy getting ready for a
    struggle. “Fresh attempts have been made to signal, but without
    success,” was the stereotyped formula of the papers. A sapper told me
    it was done by a man in a ditch with a flag on a long pole. The
    Martians took as much notice of such advances as we should of the
    lowing of a cow.

    I must confess the sight of all this armament, all this preparation,
    greatly excited me. My imagination became belligerent, and defeated the
    invaders in a dozen striking ways; something of my schoolboy dreams of
    battle and heroism came back. It hardly seemed a fair fight to me at
    that time. They seemed very helpless in that pit of theirs.

    About three o’clock there began the thud of a gun at measured intervals
    from Chertsey or Addlestone. I learned that the smouldering pine wood
    into which the second cylinder had fallen was being shelled, in the
    hope of destroying that object before it opened. It was only about
    five, however, that a field gun reached Chobham for use against the
    first body of Martians.

    About six in the evening, as I sat at tea with my wife in the
    summerhouse talking vigorously about the battle that was lowering upon
    us, I heard a muffled detonation from the common, and immediately after
    a gust of firing. Close on the heels of that came a violent rattling
    crash, quite close to us, that shook the ground; and, starting out upon
    the lawn, I saw the tops of the trees about the Oriental College burst
    into smoky red flame, and the tower of the little church beside it
    slide down into ruin. The pinnacle of the mosque had vanished, and the
    roof line of the college itself looked as if a hundred-ton gun had been
    at work upon it. One of our chimneys cracked as if a shot had hit it,
    flew, and a piece of it came clattering down the tiles and made a heap
    of broken red fragments upon the flower bed by my study window.

    I and my wife stood amazed. Then I realised that the crest of Maybury
    Hill must be within range of the Martians’ Heat-Ray now that the
    college was cleared out of the way.

    At that I gripped my wife’s arm, and without ceremony ran her out into
    the road. Then I fetched out the servant, telling her I would go
    upstairs myself for the box she was clamouring for.

    “We can’t possibly stay here,” I said; and as I spoke the firing
    reopened for a moment upon the common.

    “But where are we to go?” said my wife in terror.

    I thought perplexed. Then I remembered her cousins at Leatherhead.

    “Leatherhead!” I shouted above the sudden noise.

    She looked away from me downhill. The people were coming out of their
    houses, astonished.

    “How are we to get to Leatherhead?” she said.

    Down the hill I saw a bevy of hussars ride under the railway bridge;
    three galloped through the open gates of the Oriental College; two
    others dismounted, and began running from house to house. The sun,
    shining through the smoke that drove up from the tops of the trees,
    seemed blood red, and threw an unfamiliar lurid light upon everything.

    “Stop here,” said I; “you are safe here;” and I started off at once for
    the Spotted Dog, for I knew the landlord had a horse and dog cart. I
    ran, for I perceived that in a moment everyone upon this side of the
    hill would be moving. I found him in his bar, quite unaware of what was
    going on behind his house. A man stood with his back to me, talking to
    him.

    “I must have a pound,” said the landlord, “and I’ve no one to drive
    it.”

    “I’ll give you two,” said I, over the stranger’s shoulder.

    “What for?”

    “And I’ll bring it back by midnight,” I said.

    “Lord!” said the landlord; “what’s the hurry? I’m selling my bit of a
    pig. Two pounds, and you bring it back? What’s going on now?”

    I explained hastily that I had to leave my home, and so secured the dog
    cart. At the time it did not seem to me nearly so urgent that the
    landlord should leave his. I took care to have the cart there and then,
    drove it off down the road, and, leaving it in charge of my wife and
    servant, rushed into my house and packed a few valuables, such plate as
    we had, and so forth. The beech trees below the house were burning
    while I did this, and the palings up the road glowed red. While I was
    occupied in this way, one of the dismounted hussars came running up. He
    was going from house to house, warning people to leave. He was going on
    as I came out of my front door, lugging my treasures, done up in a
    tablecloth. I shouted after him:

    “What news?”

    He turned, stared, bawled something about “crawling out in a thing like
    a dish cover,” and ran on to the gate of the house at the crest. A
    sudden whirl of black smoke driving across the road hid him for a
    moment. I ran to my neighbour’s door and rapped to satisfy myself of
    what I already knew, that his wife had gone to London with him and had
    locked up their house. I went in again, according to my promise, to get
    my servant’s box, lugged it out, clapped it beside her on the tail of
    the dog cart, and then caught the reins and jumped up into the driver’s
    seat beside my wife. In another moment we were clear of the smoke and
    noise, and spanking down the opposite slope of Maybury Hill towards Old
    Woking.

    In front was a quiet sunny landscape, a wheat field ahead on either
    side of the road, and the Maybury Inn with its swinging sign. I saw the
    doctor’s cart ahead of me. At the bottom of the hill I turned my head
    to look at the hillside I was leaving. Thick streamers of black smoke
    shot with threads of red fire were driving up into the still air, and
    throwing dark shadows upon the green treetops eastward. The smoke
    already extended far away to the east and west—to the Byfleet pine
    woods eastward, and to Woking on the west. The road was dotted with
    people running towards us. And very faint now, but very distinct
    through the hot, quiet air, one heard the whirr of a machine-gun that
    was presently stilled, and an intermittent cracking of rifles.
    Apparently the Martians were setting fire to everything within range of
    their Heat-Ray.

    I am not an expert driver, and I had immediately to turn my attention
    to the horse. When I looked back again the second hill had hidden the
    black smoke. I slashed the horse with the whip, and gave him a loose
    rein until Woking and Send lay between us and that quivering tumult. I
    overtook and passed the doctor between Woking and Send.

    X.
    IN THE STORM.

    Leatherhead is about twelve miles from Maybury Hill. The scent of hay
    was in the air through the lush meadows beyond Pyrford, and the hedges
    on either side were sweet and gay with multitudes of dog-roses. The
    heavy firing that had broken out while we were driving down Maybury
    Hill ceased as abruptly as it began, leaving the evening very peaceful
    and still. We got to Leatherhead without misadventure about nine
    o’clock, and the horse had an hour’s rest while I took supper with my
    cousins and commended my wife to their care.

    My wife was curiously silent throughout the drive, and seemed oppressed
    with forebodings of evil. I talked to her reassuringly, pointing out
    that the Martians were tied to the pit by sheer heaviness, and at the
    utmost could but crawl a little out of it; but she answered only in
    monosyllables. Had it not been for my promise to the innkeeper, she
    would, I think, have urged me to stay in Leatherhead that night. Would
    that I had! Her face, I remember, was very white as we parted.

    For my own part, I had been feverishly excited all day. Something very
    like the war fever that occasionally runs through a civilised community
    had got into my blood, and in my heart I was not so very sorry that I
    had to return to Maybury that night. I was even afraid that that last
    fusillade I had heard might mean the extermination of our invaders from
    Mars. I can best express my state of mind by saying that I wanted to be
    in at the death.

    It was nearly eleven when I started to return. The night was
    unexpectedly dark; to me, walking out of the lighted passage of my
    cousins’ house, it seemed indeed black, and it was as hot and close as
    the day. Overhead the clouds were driving fast, albeit not a breath
    stirred the shrubs about us. My cousins’ man lit both lamps. Happily, I
    knew the road intimately. My wife stood in the light of the doorway,
    and watched me until I jumped up into the dog cart. Then abruptly she
    turned and went in, leaving my cousins side by side wishing me good
    hap.

    I was a little depressed at first with the contagion of my wife’s
    fears, but very soon my thoughts reverted to the Martians. At that time
    I was absolutely in the dark as to the course of the evening’s
    fighting. I did not know even the circumstances that had precipitated
    the conflict. As I came through Ockham (for that was the way I
    returned, and not through Send and Old Woking) I saw along the western
    horizon a blood-red glow, which as I drew nearer, crept slowly up the
    sky. The driving clouds of the gathering thunderstorm mingled there
    with masses of black and red smoke.

    Ripley Street was deserted, and except for a lighted window or so the
    village showed not a sign of life; but I narrowly escaped an accident
    at the corner of the road to Pyrford, where a knot of people stood with
    their backs to me. They said nothing to me as I passed. I do not know
    what they knew of the things happening beyond the hill, nor do I know
    if the silent houses I passed on my way were sleeping securely, or
    deserted and empty, or harassed and watching against the terror of the
    night.

    From Ripley until I came through Pyrford I was in the valley of the
    Wey, and the red glare was hidden from me. As I ascended the little
    hill beyond Pyrford Church the glare came into view again, and the
    trees about me shivered with the first intimation of the storm that was
    upon me. Then I heard midnight pealing out from Pyrford Church behind
    me, and then came the silhouette of Maybury Hill, with its tree-tops
    and roofs black and sharp against the red.

    Even as I beheld this a lurid green glare lit the road about me and
    showed the distant woods towards Addlestone. I felt a tug at the reins.
    I saw that the driving clouds had been pierced as it were by a thread
    of green fire, suddenly lighting their confusion and falling into the
    field to my left. It was the third falling star!

    Close on its apparition, and blindingly violet by contrast, danced out
    the first lightning of the gathering storm, and the thunder burst like
    a rocket overhead. The horse took the bit between his teeth and bolted.

    A moderate incline runs towards the foot of Maybury Hill, and down this
    we clattered. Once the lightning had begun, it went on in as rapid a
    succession of flashes as I have ever seen. The thunderclaps, treading
    one on the heels of another and with a strange crackling accompaniment,
    sounded more like the working of a gigantic electric machine than the
    usual detonating reverberations. The flickering light was blinding and
    confusing, and a thin hail smote gustily at my face as I drove down the
    slope.

    At first I regarded little but the road before me, and then abruptly my
    attention was arrested by something that was moving rapidly down the
    opposite slope of Maybury Hill. At first I took it for the wet roof of
    a house, but one flash following another showed it to be in swift
    rolling movement. It was an elusive vision—a moment of bewildering
    darkness, and then, in a flash like daylight, the red masses of the
    Orphanage near the crest of the hill, the green tops of the pine trees,
    and this problematical object came out clear and sharp and bright.

    And this Thing I saw! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher
    than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them
    aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding now
    across the heather; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the
    clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder.
    A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in
    the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the
    next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking stool
    tilted and bowled violently along the ground? That was the impression
    those instant flashes gave. But instead of a milking stool imagine it a
    great body of machinery on a tripod stand.

    Then suddenly the trees in the pine wood ahead of me were parted, as
    brittle reeds are parted by a man thrusting through them; they were
    snapped off and driven headlong, and a second huge tripod appeared,
    rushing, as it seemed, headlong towards me. And I was galloping hard to
    meet it! At the sight of the second monster my nerve went altogether.
    Not stopping to look again, I wrenched the horse’s head hard round to
    the right and in another moment the dog cart had heeled over upon the
    horse; the shafts smashed noisily, and I was flung sideways and fell
    heavily into a shallow pool of water.

    I crawled out almost immediately, and crouched, my feet still in the
    water, under a clump of furze. The horse lay motionless (his neck was
    broken, poor brute!) and by the lightning flashes I saw the black bulk
    of the overturned dog cart and the silhouette of the wheel still
    spinning slowly. In another moment the colossal mechanism went striding
    by me, and passed uphill towards Pyrford.

    Seen nearer, the Thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere
    insensate machine driving on its way. Machine it was, with a ringing
    metallic pace, and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which
    gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange
    body. It picked its road as it went striding along, and the brazen hood
    that surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a
    head looking about. Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal
    like a gigantic fisherman’s basket, and puffs of green smoke squirted
    out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me. And in an
    instant it was gone.

    So much I saw then, all vaguely for the flickering of the lightning, in
    blinding highlights and dense black shadows.

    As it passed it set up an exultant deafening howl that drowned the
    thunder—“Aloo! Aloo!”—and in another minute it was with its companion,
    half a mile away, stooping over something in the field. I have no doubt
    this Thing in the field was the third of the ten cylinders they had
    fired at us from Mars.

    For some minutes I lay there in the rain and darkness watching, by the
    intermittent light, these monstrous beings of metal moving about in the
    distance over the hedge tops. A thin hail was now beginning, and as it
    came and went their figures grew misty and then flashed into clearness
    again. Now and then came a gap in the lightning, and the night
    swallowed them up.

    I was soaked with hail above and puddle water below. It was some time
    before my blank astonishment would let me struggle up the bank to a
    drier position, or think at all of my imminent peril.

    Not far from me was a little one-roomed squatter’s hut of wood,
    surrounded by a patch of potato garden. I struggled to my feet at last,
    and, crouching and making use of every chance of cover, I made a run
    for this. I hammered at the door, but I could not make the people hear
    (if there were any people inside), and after a time I desisted, and,
    availing myself of a ditch for the greater part of the way, succeeded
    in crawling, unobserved by these monstrous machines, into the pine
    woods towards Maybury.

    Under cover of this I pushed on, wet and shivering now, towards my own
    house. I walked among the trees trying to find the footpath. It was
    very dark indeed in the wood, for the lightning was now becoming
    infrequent, and the hail, which was pouring down in a torrent, fell in
    columns through the gaps in the heavy foliage.

    If I had fully realised the meaning of all the things I had seen I
    should have immediately worked my way round through Byfleet to Street
    Cobham, and so gone back to rejoin my wife at Leatherhead. But that
    night the strangeness of things about me, and my physical wretchedness,
    prevented me, for I was bruised, weary, wet to the skin, deafened and
    blinded by the storm.

    I had a vague idea of going on to my own house, and that was as much
    motive as I had. I staggered through the trees, fell into a ditch and
    bruised my knees against a plank, and finally splashed out into the
    lane that ran down from the College Arms. I say splashed, for the storm
    water was sweeping the sand down the hill in a muddy torrent. There in
    the darkness a man blundered into me and sent me reeling back.

    He gave a cry of terror, sprang sideways, and rushed on before I could
    gather my wits sufficiently to speak to him. So heavy was the stress of
    the storm just at this place that I had the hardest task to win my way
    up the hill. I went close up to the fence on the left and worked my way
    along its palings.

    Near the top I stumbled upon something soft, and, by a flash of
    lightning, saw between my feet a heap of black broadcloth and a pair of
    boots. Before I could distinguish clearly how the man lay, the flicker
    of light had passed. I stood over him waiting for the next flash. When
    it came, I saw that he was a sturdy man, cheaply but not shabbily
    dressed; his head was bent under his body, and he lay crumpled up close
    to the fence, as though he had been flung violently against it.

    Overcoming the repugnance natural to one who had never before touched a
    dead body, I stooped and turned him over to feel for his heart. He was
    quite dead. Apparently his neck had been broken. The lightning flashed
    for a third time, and his face leaped upon me. I sprang to my feet. It
    was the landlord of the Spotted Dog, whose conveyance I had taken.

    I stepped over him gingerly and pushed on up the hill. I made my way by
    the police station and the College Arms towards my own house. Nothing
    was burning on the hillside, though from the common there still came a
    red glare and a rolling tumult of ruddy smoke beating up against the
    drenching hail. So far as I could see by the flashes, the houses about
    me were mostly uninjured. By the College Arms a dark heap lay in the
    road.

    Down the road towards Maybury Bridge there were voices and the sound of
    feet, but I had not the courage to shout or to go to them. I let myself
    in with my latchkey, closed, locked and bolted the door, staggered to
    the foot of the staircase, and sat down. My imagination was full of
    those striding metallic monsters, and of the dead body smashed against
    the fence.

    I crouched at the foot of the staircase with my back to the wall,
    shivering violently.

    XI.
    AT THE WINDOW.

    I have already said that my storms of emotion have a trick of
    exhausting themselves. After a time I discovered that I was cold and
    wet, and with little pools of water about me on the stair carpet. I got
    up almost mechanically, went into the dining room and drank some
    whisky, and then I was moved to change my clothes.

    After I had done that I went upstairs to my study, but why I did so I
    do not know. The window of my study looks over the trees and the
    railway towards Horsell Common. In the hurry of our departure this
    window had been left open. The passage was dark, and, by contrast with
    the picture the window frame enclosed, the side of the room seemed
    impenetrably dark. I stopped short in the doorway.

    The thunderstorm had passed. The towers of the Oriental College and the
    pine trees about it had gone, and very far away, lit by a vivid red
    glare, the common about the sand-pits was visible. Across the light
    huge black shapes, grotesque and strange, moved busily to and fro.

    It seemed indeed as if the whole country in that direction was on
    fire—a broad hillside set with minute tongues of flame, swaying and
    writhing with the gusts of the dying storm, and throwing a red
    reflection upon the cloud scud above. Every now and then a haze of
    smoke from some nearer conflagration drove across the window and hid
    the Martian shapes. I could not see what they were doing, nor the clear
    form of them, nor recognise the black objects they were busied upon.
    Neither could I see the nearer fire, though the reflections of it
    danced on the wall and ceiling of the study. A sharp, resinous tang of
    burning was in the air.

    I closed the door noiselessly and crept towards the window. As I did
    so, the view opened out until, on the one hand, it reached to the
    houses about Woking station, and on the other to the charred and
    blackened pine woods of Byfleet. There was a light down below the hill,
    on the railway, near the arch, and several of the houses along the
    Maybury road and the streets near the station were glowing ruins. The
    light upon the railway puzzled me at first; there were a black heap and
    a vivid glare, and to the right of that a row of yellow oblongs. Then I
    perceived this was a wrecked train, the fore part smashed and on fire,
    the hinder carriages still upon the rails.

    Between these three main centres of light—the houses, the train, and
    the burning county towards Chobham—stretched irregular patches of dark
    country, broken here and there by intervals of dimly glowing and
    smoking ground. It was the strangest spectacle, that black expanse set
    with fire. It reminded me, more than anything else, of the Potteries at
    night. At first I could distinguish no people at all, though I peered
    intently for them. Later I saw against the light of Woking station a
    number of black figures hurrying one after the other across the line.

    And this was the little world in which I had been living securely for
    years, this fiery chaos! What had happened in the last seven hours I
    still did not know; nor did I know, though I was beginning to guess,
    the relation between these mechanical colossi and the sluggish lumps I
    had seen disgorged from the cylinder. With a queer feeling of
    impersonal interest I turned my desk chair to the window, sat down, and
    stared at the blackened country, and particularly at the three gigantic
    black things that were going to and fro in the glare about the
    sand-pits.

    They seemed amazingly busy. I began to ask myself what they could be.
    Were they intelligent mechanisms? Such a thing I felt was impossible.
    Or did a Martian sit within each, ruling, directing, using, much as a
    man’s brain sits and rules in his body? I began to compare the things
    to human machines, to ask myself for the first time in my life how an
    ironclad or a steam engine would seem to an intelligent lower animal.

    The storm had left the sky clear, and over the smoke of the burning
    land the little fading pinpoint of Mars was dropping into the west,
    when a soldier came into my garden. I heard a slight scraping at the
    fence, and rousing myself from the lethargy that had fallen upon me, I
    looked down and saw him dimly, clambering over the palings. At the
    sight of another human being my torpor passed, and I leaned out of the
    window eagerly.

    “Hist!” said I, in a whisper.

    He stopped astride of the fence in doubt. Then he came over and across
    the lawn to the corner of the house. He bent down and stepped softly.

    “Who’s there?” he said, also whispering, standing under the window and
    peering up.

    “Where are you going?” I asked.

    “God knows.”

    “Are you trying to hide?”

    “That’s it.”

    “Come into the house,” I said.

    I went down, unfastened the door, and let him in, and locked the door
    again. I could not see his face. He was hatless, and his coat was
    unbuttoned.

    “My God!” he said, as I drew him in.

    “What has happened?” I asked.

    “What hasn’t?” In the obscurity I could see he made a gesture of
    despair. “They wiped us out—simply wiped us out,” he repeated again and
    again.

    He followed me, almost mechanically, into the dining room.

    “Take some whisky,” I said, pouring out a stiff dose.

    He drank it. Then abruptly he sat down before the table, put his head
    on his arms, and began to sob and weep like a little boy, in a perfect
    passion of emotion, while I, with a curious forgetfulness of my own
    recent despair, stood beside him, wondering.

    It was a long time before he could steady his nerves to answer my
    questions, and then he answered perplexingly and brokenly. He was a
    driver in the artillery, and had only come into action about seven. At
    that time firing was going on across the common, and it was said the
    first party of Martians were crawling slowly towards their second
    cylinder under cover of a metal shield.

    Later this shield staggered up on tripod legs and became the first of
    the fighting-machines I had seen. The gun he drove had been unlimbered
    near Horsell, in order to command the sand-pits, and its arrival it was
    that had precipitated the action. As the limber gunners went to the
    rear, his horse trod in a rabbit hole and came down, throwing him into
    a depression of the ground. At the same moment the gun exploded behind
    him, the ammunition blew up, there was fire all about him, and he found
    himself lying under a heap of charred dead men and dead horses.

    “I lay still,” he said, “scared out of my wits, with the fore quarter
    of a horse atop of me. We’d been wiped out. And the smell—good God!
    Like burnt meat! I was hurt across the back by the fall of the horse,
    and there I had to lie until I felt better. Just like parade it had
    been a minute before—then stumble, bang, swish!

    “Wiped out!” he said.

    He had hid under the dead horse for a long time, peeping out furtively
    across the common. The Cardigan men had tried a rush, in skirmishing
    order, at the pit, simply to be swept out of existence. Then the
    monster had risen to its feet and had begun to walk leisurely to and
    fro across the common among the few fugitives, with its headlike hood
    turning about exactly like the head of a cowled human being. A kind of
    arm carried a complicated metallic case, about which green flashes
    scintillated, and out of the funnel of this there smoked the Heat-Ray.

    In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier could see, not a
    living thing left upon the common, and every bush and tree upon it that
    was not already a blackened skeleton was burning. The hussars had been
    on the road beyond the curvature of the ground, and he saw nothing of
    them. He heard the Maxims rattle for a time and then become still. The
    giant saved Woking station and its cluster of houses until the last;
    then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town became
    a heap of fiery ruins. Then the Thing shut off the Heat-Ray, and
    turning its back upon the artilleryman, began to waddle away towards
    the smouldering pine woods that sheltered the second cylinder. As it
    did so a second glittering Titan built itself up out of the pit.

    The second monster followed the first, and at that the artilleryman
    began to crawl very cautiously across the hot heather ash towards
    Horsell. He managed to get alive into the ditch by the side of the
    road, and so escaped to Woking. There his story became ejaculatory. The
    place was impassable. It seems there were a few people alive there,
    frantic for the most part and many burned and scalded. He was turned
    aside by the fire, and hid among some almost scorching heaps of broken
    wall as one of the Martian giants returned. He saw this one pursue a
    man, catch him up in one of its steely tentacles, and knock his head
    against the trunk of a pine tree. At last, after nightfall, the
    artilleryman made a rush for it and got over the railway embankment.

    Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury, in the hope of
    getting out of danger Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and
    cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village
    and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the
    water mains near the railway arch smashed, and the water bubbling out
    like a spring upon the road.

    That was the story I got from him, bit by bit. He grew calmer telling
    me and trying to make me see the things he had seen. He had eaten no
    food since midday, he told me early in his narrative, and I found some
    mutton and bread in the pantry and brought it into the room. We lit no
    lamp for fear of attracting the Martians, and ever and again our hands
    would touch upon bread or meat. As he talked, things about us came
    darkly out of the darkness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose
    trees outside the window grew distinct. It would seem that a number of
    men or animals had rushed across the lawn. I began to see his face,
    blackened and haggard, as no doubt mine was also.

    When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my study, and I
    looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become
    a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled now. Where flames had been
    there were now streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of shattered
    and gutted houses and blasted and blackened trees that the night had
    hidden stood out now gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn.
    Yet here and there some object had had the luck to escape—a white
    railway signal here, the end of a greenhouse there, white and fresh
    amid the wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare had
    destruction been so indiscriminate and so universal. And shining with
    the growing light of the east, three of the metallic giants stood about
    the pit, their cowls rotating as though they were surveying the
    desolation they had made.

    It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again
    puffs of vivid green vapour streamed up and out of it towards the
    brightening dawn—streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.

    Beyond were the pillars of fire about Chobham. They became pillars of
    bloodshot smoke at the first touch of day.

    XII.
    WHAT I SAW OF THE DESTRUCTION OF WEYBRIDGE AND SHEPPERTON.

    As the dawn grew brighter we withdrew from the window from which we had
    watched the Martians, and went very quietly downstairs.

    The artilleryman agreed with me that the house was no place to stay in.
    He proposed, he said, to make his way Londonward, and thence rejoin his
    battery—No. 12, of the Horse Artillery. My plan was to return at once
    to Leatherhead; and so greatly had the strength of the Martians
    impressed me that I had determined to take my wife to Newhaven, and go
    with her out of the country forthwith. For I already perceived clearly
    that the country about London must inevitably be the scene of a
    disastrous struggle before such creatures as these could be destroyed.

    Between us and Leatherhead, however, lay the third cylinder, with its
    guarding giants. Had I been alone, I think I should have taken my
    chance and struck across country. But the artilleryman dissuaded me:
    “It’s no kindness to the right sort of wife,” he said, “to make her a
    widow;” and in the end I agreed to go with him, under cover of the
    woods, northward as far as Street Cobham before I parted with him.
    Thence I would make a big detour by Epsom to reach Leatherhead.

    I should have started at once, but my companion had been in active
    service and he knew better than that. He made me ransack the house for
    a flask, which he filled with whisky; and we lined every available
    pocket with packets of biscuits and slices of meat. Then we crept out
    of the house, and ran as quickly as we could down the ill-made road by
    which I had come overnight. The houses seemed deserted. In the road lay
    a group of three charred bodies close together, struck dead by the
    Heat-Ray; and here and there were things that people had dropped—a
    clock, a slipper, a silver spoon, and the like poor valuables. At the
    corner turning up towards the post office a little cart, filled with
    boxes and furniture, and horseless, heeled over on a broken wheel. A
    cash box had been hastily smashed open and thrown under the debris.

    Except the lodge at the Orphanage, which was still on fire, none of the
    houses had suffered very greatly here. The Heat-Ray had shaved the
    chimney tops and passed. Yet, save ourselves, there did not seem to be
    a living soul on Maybury Hill. The majority of the inhabitants had
    escaped, I suppose, by way of the Old Woking road—the road I had taken
    when I drove to Leatherhead—or they had hidden.

    We went down the lane, by the body of the man in black, sodden now from
    the overnight hail, and broke into the woods at the foot of the hill.
    We pushed through these towards the railway without meeting a soul. The
    woods across the line were but the scarred and blackened ruins of
    woods; for the most part the trees had fallen, but a certain proportion
    still stood, dismal grey stems, with dark brown foliage instead of
    green.

    On our side the fire had done no more than scorch the nearer trees; it
    had failed to secure its footing. In one place the woodmen had been at
    work on Saturday; trees, felled and freshly trimmed, lay in a clearing,
    with heaps of sawdust by the sawing-machine and its engine. Hard by was
    a temporary hut, deserted. There was not a breath of wind this morning,
    and everything was strangely still. Even the birds were hushed, and as
    we hurried along I and the artilleryman talked in whispers and looked
    now and again over our shoulders. Once or twice we stopped to listen.

    After a time we drew near the road, and as we did so we heard the
    clatter of hoofs and saw through the tree stems three cavalry soldiers
    riding slowly towards Woking. We hailed them, and they halted while we
    hurried towards them. It was a lieutenant and a couple of privates of
    the 8th Hussars, with a stand like a theodolite, which the artilleryman
    told me was a heliograph.

    “You are the first men I’ve seen coming this way this morning,” said
    the lieutenant. “What’s brewing?”

    His voice and face were eager. The men behind him stared curiously. The
    artilleryman jumped down the bank into the road and saluted.

    “Gun destroyed last night, sir. Have been hiding. Trying to rejoin
    battery, sir. You’ll come in sight of the Martians, I expect, about
    half a mile along this road.”

    “What the dickens are they like?” asked the lieutenant.

    “Giants in armour, sir. Hundred feet high. Three legs and a body like
    ’luminium, with a mighty great head in a hood, sir.”

    “Get out!” said the lieutenant. “What confounded nonsense!”

    “You’ll see, sir. They carry a kind of box, sir, that shoots fire and
    strikes you dead.”

    “What d’ye mean—a gun?”

    “No, sir,” and the artilleryman began a vivid account of the Heat-Ray.
    Halfway through, the lieutenant interrupted him and looked up at me. I
    was still standing on the bank by the side of the road.

    “It’s perfectly true,” I said.

    “Well,” said the lieutenant, “I suppose it’s my business to see it too.
    Look here”—to the artilleryman—“we’re detailed here clearing people out
    of their houses. You’d better go along and report yourself to
    Brigadier-General Marvin, and tell him all you know. He’s at Weybridge.
    Know the way?”

    “I do,” I said; and he turned his horse southward again.

    “Half a mile, you say?” said he.

    “At most,” I answered, and pointed over the treetops southward. He
    thanked me and rode on, and we saw them no more.

    Farther along we came upon a group of three women and two children in
    the road, busy clearing out a labourer’s cottage. They had got hold of
    a little hand truck, and were piling it up with unclean-looking bundles
    and shabby furniture. They were all too assiduously engaged to talk to
    us as we passed.

    By Byfleet station we emerged from the pine trees, and found the
    country calm and peaceful under the morning sunlight. We were far
    beyond the range of the Heat-Ray there, and had it not been for the
    silent desertion of some of the houses, the stirring movement of
    packing in others, and the knot of soldiers standing on the bridge over
    the railway and staring down the line towards Woking, the day would
    have seemed very like any other Sunday.

    Several farm waggons and carts were moving creakily along the road to
    Addlestone, and suddenly through the gate of a field we saw, across a
    stretch of flat meadow, six twelve-pounders standing neatly at equal
    distances pointing towards Woking. The gunners stood by the guns
    waiting, and the ammunition waggons were at a business-like distance.
    The men stood almost as if under inspection.

    “That’s good!” said I. “They will get one fair shot, at any rate.”

    The artilleryman hesitated at the gate.

    “I shall go on,” he said.

    Farther on towards Weybridge, just over the bridge, there were a number
    of men in white fatigue jackets throwing up a long rampart, and more
    guns behind.

    “It’s bows and arrows against the lightning, anyhow,” said the
    artilleryman. “They ’aven’t seen that fire-beam yet.”

    The officers who were not actively engaged stood and stared over the
    treetops southwestward, and the men digging would stop every now and
    again to stare in the same direction.

    Byfleet was in a tumult; people packing, and a score of hussars, some
    of them dismounted, some on horseback, were hunting them about. Three
    or four black government waggons, with crosses in white circles, and an
    old omnibus, among other vehicles, were being loaded in the village
    street. There were scores of people, most of them sufficiently
    sabbatical to have assumed their best clothes. The soldiers were having
    the greatest difficulty in making them realise the gravity of their
    position. We saw one shrivelled old fellow with a huge box and a score
    or more of flower pots containing orchids, angrily expostulating with
    the corporal who would leave them behind. I stopped and gripped his
    arm.

    “Do you know what’s over there?” I said, pointing at the pine tops that
    hid the Martians.

    “Eh?” said he, turning. “I was explainin’ these is vallyble.”

    “Death!” I shouted. “Death is coming! Death!” and leaving him to digest
    that if he could, I hurried on after the artillery-man. At the corner I
    looked back. The soldier had left him, and he was still standing by his
    box, with the pots of orchids on the lid of it, and staring vaguely
    over the trees.

    No one in Weybridge could tell us where the headquarters were
    established; the whole place was in such confusion as I had never seen
    in any town before. Carts, carriages everywhere, the most astonishing
    miscellany of conveyances and horseflesh. The respectable inhabitants
    of the place, men in golf and boating costumes, wives prettily dressed,
    were packing, river-side loafers energetically helping, children
    excited, and, for the most part, highly delighted at this astonishing
    variation of their Sunday experiences. In the midst of it all the
    worthy vicar was very pluckily holding an early celebration, and his
    bell was jangling out above the excitement.

    I and the artilleryman, seated on the step of the drinking fountain,
    made a very passable meal upon what we had brought with us. Patrols of
    soldiers—here no longer hussars, but grenadiers in white—were warning
    people to move now or to take refuge in their cellars as soon as the
    firing began. We saw as we crossed the railway bridge that a growing
    crowd of people had assembled in and about the railway station, and the
    swarming platform was piled with boxes and packages. The ordinary
    traffic had been stopped, I believe, in order to allow of the passage
    of troops and guns to Chertsey, and I have heard since that a savage
    struggle occurred for places in the special trains that were put on at
    a later hour.

    We remained at Weybridge until midday, and at that hour we found
    ourselves at the place near Shepperton Lock where the Wey and Thames
    join. Part of the time we spent helping two old women to pack a little
    cart. The Wey has a treble mouth, and at this point boats are to be
    hired, and there was a ferry across the river. On the Shepperton side
    was an inn with a lawn, and beyond that the tower of Shepperton
    Church—it has been replaced by a spire—rose above the trees.

    Here we found an excited and noisy crowd of fugitives. As yet the
    flight had not grown to a panic, but there were already far more people
    than all the boats going to and fro could enable to cross. People came
    panting along under heavy burdens; one husband and wife were even
    carrying a small outhouse door between them, with some of their
    household goods piled thereon. One man told us he meant to try to get
    away from Shepperton station.

    There was a lot of shouting, and one man was even jesting. The idea
    people seemed to have here was that the Martians were simply formidable
    human beings, who might attack and sack the town, to be certainly
    destroyed in the end. Every now and then people would glance nervously
    across the Wey, at the meadows towards Chertsey, but everything over
    there was still.

    Across the Thames, except just where the boats landed, everything was
    quiet, in vivid contrast with the Surrey side. The people who landed
    there from the boats went tramping off down the lane. The big ferryboat
    had just made a journey. Three or four soldiers stood on the lawn of
    the inn, staring and jesting at the fugitives, without offering to
    help. The inn was closed, as it was now within prohibited hours.

    “What’s that?” cried a boatman, and “Shut up, you fool!” said a man
    near me to a yelping dog. Then the sound came again, this time from the
    direction of Chertsey, a muffled thud—the sound of a gun.

    The fighting was beginning. Almost immediately unseen batteries across
    the river to our right, unseen because of the trees, took up the
    chorus, firing heavily one after the other. A woman screamed. Everyone
    stood arrested by the sudden stir of battle, near us and yet invisible
    to us. Nothing was to be seen save flat meadows, cows feeding
    unconcernedly for the most part, and silvery pollard willows motionless
    in the warm sunlight.

    “The sojers’ll stop ’em,” said a woman beside me, doubtfully. A
    haziness rose over the treetops.

    Then suddenly we saw a rush of smoke far away up the river, a puff of
    smoke that jerked up into the air and hung; and forthwith the ground
    heaved under foot and a heavy explosion shook the air, smashing two or
    three windows in the houses near, and leaving us astonished.

    “Here they are!” shouted a man in a blue jersey. “Yonder! D’yer see
    them? Yonder!”

    Quickly, one after the other, one, two, three, four of the armoured
    Martians appeared, far away over the little trees, across the flat
    meadows that stretched towards Chertsey, and striding hurriedly towards
    the river. Little cowled figures they seemed at first, going with a
    rolling motion and as fast as flying birds.

    Then, advancing obliquely towards us, came a fifth. Their armoured
    bodies glittered in the sun as they swept swiftly forward upon the
    guns, growing rapidly larger as they drew nearer. One on the extreme
    left, the remotest that is, flourished a huge case high in the air, and
    the ghostly, terrible Heat-Ray I had already seen on Friday night smote
    towards Chertsey, and struck the town.

    At sight of these strange, swift, and terrible creatures the crowd near
    the water’s edge seemed to me to be for a moment horror-struck. There
    was no screaming or shouting, but a silence. Then a hoarse murmur and a
    movement of feet—a splashing from the water. A man, too frightened to
    drop the portmanteau he carried on his shoulder, swung round and sent
    me staggering with a blow from the corner of his burden. A woman thrust
    at me with her hand and rushed past me. I turned with the rush of the
    people, but I was not too terrified for thought. The terrible Heat-Ray
    was in my mind. To get under water! That was it!

    “Get under water!” I shouted, unheeded.

    I faced about again, and rushed towards the approaching Martian, rushed
    right down the gravelly beach and headlong into the water. Others did
    the same. A boatload of people putting back came leaping out as I
    rushed past. The stones under my feet were muddy and slippery, and the
    river was so low that I ran perhaps twenty feet scarcely waist-deep.
    Then, as the Martian towered overhead scarcely a couple of hundred
    yards away, I flung myself forward under the surface. The splashes of
    the people in the boats leaping into the river sounded like
    thunderclaps in my ears. People were landing hastily on both sides of
    the river. But the Martian machine took no more notice for the moment
    of the people running this way and that than a man would of the
    confusion of ants in a nest against which his foot has kicked. When,
    half suffocated, I raised my head above water, the Martian’s hood
    pointed at the batteries that were still firing across the river, and
    as it advanced it swung loose what must have been the generator of the
    Heat-Ray.

    In another moment it was on the bank, and in a stride wading halfway
    across. The knees of its foremost legs bent at the farther bank, and in
    another moment it had raised itself to its full height again, close to
    the village of Shepperton. Forthwith the six guns which, unknown to
    anyone on the right bank, had been hidden behind the outskirts of that
    village, fired simultaneously. The sudden near concussion, the last
    close upon the first, made my heart jump. The monster was already
    raising the case generating the Heat-Ray as the first shell burst six
    yards above the hood.

  • The Unpopular Review, Volume II Number 3

    The Unpopular Review, Volume II Number 3

    Aproximadamente 75.437 palavras.

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    THE UNPOPULAR REVIEW

    VOL. II, NO. 3

    JULY-SEPTEMBER, 1914

    Published Quarterly at 35 West 32d Street, New York, by

    HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

    CONTENTS

    Unsocial Investments A.S. Johnson
    A Stubborn Relic of Feudalism The Editor
    An Experiment in Syndicalism Hugh H. Lusk
    Labor: "True Demand" and Immigrant Supply Arthur J. Todd
    The Way to Flatland Fabian Franklin
    The Disfranchisement of Property David McGregor Means
    Railway Junctions Clayton Hamilton
    Minor Uses of the Middling Rich F.J. Mather, Jr.
    Lecturing at Chautauqua Clayton Hamilton
    Academic Leadership Paul Elmer More
    Hypnotism, Telepathy, and Dreams The Editor
    The Muses on the Hearth Mrs F.G. Allinson
    The Land of the Sleepless Watchdog David Starr Jordan
    En Casserole
    Special to our Readers–Philosophy in Fly Time–Setting Bounds
    to Laughter (A.S. Johnson)–A Post-Graduate School for Academic
    Donors (F.J. Mather, Jr.)–A Suggestion Regarding
    Vacations–Advertisement–Simplified Spelling

    UNSOCIAL INVESTMENTS

    The "new social conscience" is essentially a class phenomenon. While it
    pretends to the rôle of inner monitor and guide to conduct for all
    mankind, it interprets good and evil in class terms. It manifests a
    special solicitude for the welfare of one social group, and a mute
    hostility toward another. Labor is its Esau, Capital its Jacob. Let strife
    arise between workingmen and their employers, and you will see the new
    social conscience aligning itself with the former, accepting at face value
    all the claims of labor, reiterating all labor's formulæ. The suggestion
    that judgment should be suspended until the facts at issue are established
    is repudiated as the prompting of a secret sin. For, to paraphrase a
    recent utterance of the _Survey_, one of the foremost organs of the new
    conscience, is it not true that the workers are fighting for their
    livings, while the employers are fighting only for their profits? It would
    appear, then, that there can be no question as to the side to which
    justice inclines. A living is more sacred than a profit.

    It is virtually never true, however, that the workers are fighting for
    their "living." Contrary to Marx's exploded "iron law" they probably had
    that and more before the trouble began. But of course we would not wish to
    restrict them to a living, if they can produce more, and want all who
    can't produce that much to be provided with it–and something more at the
    expense of others.

    It may be urged that the employer's profits also represent the livings of
    a number of human beings; but this passes nowadays for a reactionary view.
    "We stand for man as against the dollar." If you say that the "dollar" is
    metonymy for "the man possessed of a dollar," with rights to defend, and
    reasonable expectations to be realized, you convict yourself of reaction.
    "These gentry" (I quote from the May _Atlantic_) "suppose themselves to be
    discussing the rights of man, when all they are discussing is the rights
    of stockholders." The true view, the progressive view, is obviously that
    the possessors of the dollar, the recipients of profits and dividends, are
    excluded from the communion of humanity. Labor is mankind.

    The present instance is of course not the only instance in human history
    of the substitution of class criteria of judgment for social criteria.
    Such manifestations of class conscience are doubtless justified in the
    large economy of human affairs; an individual must often claim all in
    order to gain anything, and the same may be true of a class. Besides, the
    ultimate arbitration of the claims of the classes is not a matter for the
    rational judgment. What is subject to rational analysis, however, are the
    methods of gaining its ends proposed by the new social conscience. Of
    these methods one of wide acceptance is that of fixing odium upon certain
    property interests, with a view to depriving them immediately of the
    respect still granted to property interests in general, and ultimately of
    the protection of the laws. It is with the rationality of what may be
    called the excommunication and outlawing of special property interests,
    that the present paper is concerned.

    In passing, it is worth noting that the same ethical spirit that insists
    upon fixing the responsibility for social ills upon particular property
    interests–or property owners–insists with equal vehemence upon absolving
    the propertyless evil-doer from personal responsibility for his acts. The
    Los Angeles dynamiters were but victims: the crime in which they were
    implicated was institutional, not personal. Their punishment was rank
    injustice; inexpedient, moreover, as provocative of further crime, instead
    of a means of repression. On the other hand, when it appears that the
    congestion of the slum produces vice and disease, we are not urged by the
    spokesmen of this ethical creed, to blame the chain of institutional
    causes typified by scarcity of land, high prices of building materials,
    the incapacity of a raw immigrant population to pay for better
    habitations, or to appreciate the need for light and air. Rather, we are
    urged to fix responsibility upon the individual owner who receives rent
    from slum tenements. Perhaps we can not imprison him for his misdeeds, but
    we can make him an object of public reproach; expel him from social
    intercourse (if that, so often talked about, is ever done); fasten his
    iniquities upon him if ever he seeks a post of trust or honor; and
    ultimately we can deprive him of his property. Let him and his anti-social
    interests be forever excommunicate, outlawed.

    II

    In the country at large the property interests involved in the production
    and sale of alcoholic beverages are already excommunicated. The unreformed
    "best society" may still tolerate the presence of persons whose fortunes
    are derived from breweries or distilleries; but the great mass of the
    social-minded would deny them fire and water. In how many districts would
    a well organized political machine urge persons thus enriched as
    candidates for Congress, the bench or even the school board? In the
    prohibition territory excommunication of such property interests has been
    followed by outlawry. The saloon in Maine and Kansas exists by the same
    title as did Robin Hood: the inefficiency of the law. On the road to
    excommunication is private property in the wretched shacks that shelter
    the city's poor. Outlawry is not far distant. "These tenements must go."
    Will they go? Ask of the police, who pick over the wreckage upon the
    subsidence of a wave of reform. Many a rookery, officially abolished, will
    be found still tenanted, and yielding not one income, but two, one for the
    owner and another for the police. The property represented by enterprises
    paying low wages, working men for long hours or under unhealthful
    conditions, or employing children, is almost ripe for excommunication.
    Pillars of society and the church have already been seen tottering on
    account of revelations of working conditions in factories from which they
    receive dividends. Property "affected by a public use," that is,
    investments in the instrumentalities of public service, is becoming a
    compromising possession. We are already somewhat suspicious of the
    personal integrity and political honor of those who receive their incomes
    from railways or electric lighting plants; and the odor of gas stocks is
    unmistakable. Even the land, once the retreat of high birth and serene
    dignity, is beginning to exhale a miasma of corruption. "Enriched by
    unearned increment"–who wishes such an epitaph? A convention is to be
    held in a western city in this very year, to announce to the world that
    the delegates and their constituencies–all honest lovers of mankind–will
    refuse in future to recognize any private title to land or other natural
    resources. Holders of such property, by continuing to be such, will place
    themselves beyond the pale of human society, and will forfeit all claim to
    sympathy when the day dawns for the universal confiscation of land.

    III

    The existence of categories of property interests resting under a growing
    weight of social disapprobation, is giving rise to a series of problems in
    private ethics that seem almost to demand a rehabilitation of the art of
    casuistry. A very intelligent and conscientious lady of the writer's
    acquaintance became possessed, by inheritance, of a one-fourth interest in
    a Minneapolis building the ground floor of which is occupied by a saloon.
    Her first endeavor was to persuade her partners to secure a cancellation
    of the liquor dealer's lease. This they refused to do, on the ground that
    the building in question is, by location, eminently suited to its present
    use, but very ill suited to any other; and that, moreover, the lessee
    would immediately reopen his business on the opposite corner. To yield to
    their partner's desire would therefore result in a reduction of their own
    profits, but would advance the public welfare not one whit. Disheartened
    by her partners' obstinacy, my friend is seeking to dispose of her
    interest in the building. As she is willing to incur a heavy sacrifice in
    order to get rid of her complicity in what she considers an unholy
    business, the transfer will doubtless soon be made. Her soul will be
    lightened of the profits from property put to an anti-social use. But the
    property will still continue in such use, and profits from it will still
    accrue to someone with a soul to lose or to save.

    In her fascinating book, _Twenty Years at Hull House_, Miss Jane Addams
    tells of a visit to a western state where she had invested a sum of money
    in farm mortgages. "I was horrified," she says, "by the wretched
    conditions among the farmers, which had resulted from a long period of
    drought, and one forlorn picture was fairly burned into my mind…. The
    farmer's wife [was] a picture of despair, as she stood in the door of the
    bare, crude house, and the two children behind her, whom she vainly tried
    to keep out of sight, continually thrust forward their faces, almost
    covered by masses of coarse, sunburned hair, and their little bare feet so
    black, so hard, the great cracks so filled with dust, that they looked
    like flattened hoofs. The children could not be compared to anything so
    joyous as satyrs, although they appeared but half-human. It seemed to me
    quite impossible to receive interest from mortgages upon farms which might
    at any season be reduced to such conditions, and with great inconvenience
    to my agent and doubtless with hardship to the farmers, as speedily as
    possible I withdrew all my investment." And thereby made the supply of
    money for such farmers that much less and consequently that much dearer.
    This is quite a fair example of much current philanthropy.

    We may safely assume that, however much this action may have lightened
    Miss Addams's conscience, it did not lighten the burden of debt upon the
    farmer, or make the periodic interest payments less painful, and it
    certainly did put them to the trouble and contingent expenses of a new
    mortgage. The moral burden was shifted, to the ease of the philanthropist,
    and this seems to exhaust the sum of the good results of one well
    intentioned deed. Do they outweigh the bad ones?

    So, doubtless, there are among our friends persons who, upon proof that
    factories in which they have been interested pay starvation wages, have
    withdrawn their investments. And others who, stumbling upon a state
    legislature among the productive assets of a railway corporation, have
    sold their bonds and invested the proceeds elsewhere. It is a modern way
    of obeying the injunction, "Sell all thou hast and follow me." And not a
    very painful way, since the irreproachable investments pay almost, if not
    quite, as well as those that are suspect.

    It is not, however, impossible to conceive of a property owner driven from
    one position to another, in order to satisfy this new requirement of the
    social conscience, without ever finding peace. Miss Addams put the money
    withdrawn from those hideous farm mortgages into a flock of "innocent
    looking sheep." Alas, they were not so innocent as they seemed. "The sight
    of two hundred sheep with four rotting hoofs each was not reassuring to
    one whose conscience craved economic peace. A fortunate series of sales of
    mutton, wool and farm enabled the partners to end the enterprise without
    loss." Sales of mutton? Let us hope those eight hundred infected hoofs are
    well printed on the butcher's conscience.

    And the net result of all these moral strivings? The evil investments
    still continue to be evil, and still yield profits. Doubtless they rest,
    in the end, upon less sensitive consciences. Marvellous moral gain!

    IV

    We are bound to the wheel, say the sociological fatalists. All our efforts
    are of no avail; the Wheel revolves as it was destined. Not so. Our
    strivings for purity in investments, puny as may be their results in the
    individual instance, may compose a sum that is imposing in its
    effectiveness. How their influence may be exerted will best appear from an
    analogy.

    It is a settled conviction among Americans of Puritan antecedents, and
    among all other Americans, native born or alien, that have come under
    Puritan influence, that the dispensing of alcoholic beverages is a
    degrading function. This conviction has not, to be sure, notably impaired
    the performance of the function. But it has none the less produced a
    striking effect. It has set apart for the function in question those
    elements in the population that place the lowest valuation upon the esteem
    of the public, and that are, on the whole, least worthy of it. In
    consequence the American saloon is, by common consent, the very worst
    institution of its kind in the world. Such is the immediate result of good
    intentions working by the method of excommunication of a trade.

    This degradation of the personnel and the institution proceeds at an
    accelerated rate as public opinion grows more bitter. In the end the evil
    becomes so serious, so intimately associated with all other evils, social
    and political, that you hear men over their very cups rise to proclaim,
    with husky voices, "The saloon must go!" At this point the community is
    ripe for prohibition: accordingly, it would seem that the initial stages
    in the process, unpleasant as were their consequences, were not
    ill-advised, after all. But prohibition does not come without a political
    struggle, in which the enemy, selected for brazenness and schooled in
    corruption, employs methods that leave lasting scars upon the body
    politic. And even when vanquished, the enemy retreats into the morasses of
    "unenforcible laws," to conduct a guerilla warfare that knows no rules.
    Let us grant that the ultimate gain is worth all it costs: are we sure
    that we have taken the best possible means to achieve our ends?

    In the poorer quarters of most great American cities, there is much
    property that it is difficult for a man to hold without losing the respect
    of the enlightened. Old battered tenements, dingy and ill lighted
    tumbledown shacks, the despair of the city reformer. Let us say that the
    proximity of gas tanks or noisy railways or smoky factories consign such
    quarters to the habitation of the very poor. Quite possibly, then, the
    replacement of the existing buildings by better ones would represent a
    heavy financial loss. The increasing social disapprobation of property
    vested in such wretched forms leads to the gradual substitution of owners
    who hold the social approval in contempt, for those who manifest a certain
    degree of sensitiveness. The tenants certainly gain nothing from the
    change. What is more likely to happen, is a screwing up of rents, an
    increasing promptness of evictions. Public opinion will in the end be
    roused against the landlords; the more timid among them will sell their
    holdings to others not less ruthless, but bolder and more astute. Attempts
    at public regulation will be fought with infinitely greater
    resourcefulness than could possibly have been displayed by respectable
    owners. Perhaps the final outcome will be that more drastic regulations
    are adopted than would have been the case had the shifting in ownership
    not taken place. There would still remain the possibility of the evasion
    of the law, and it is not at all improbable that the progress in the
    technique of evasion would outstrip the progress in regulation, thus
    leaving the tenant with a balance of disadvantage from the process as a
    whole.

    The most illuminating instance of a business interest subjected first to
    excommunication–literally–and then to outlawry, is that of the usurer,
    or, in modern parlance, the loan shark. To the mediæval mind there was
    something distinctly immoral in an income from property devoted to the
    furnishing of personal loans. We need not stop to defend the mediæval
    position or to attack it; all that concerns us here is that an opportunity
    for profit–that is, a potential property interest–was outlawed. In
    consequence it became impossible for reputable citizens to engage in the
    business. Usury therefore came to be monopolized by aliens, exempt from
    the current ethical formulation, who were "protected," for a
    consideration, by the prince, just as dubious modern property interests
    may be protected by the political boss.

    Let us summarize the results of eight hundred years of experience in this
    method of dealing with the usurer's trade. The business shifted from the
    control of citizens to that of aliens; from the hands of those who were
    aliens merely in a narrow, national sense, to the hands of those who are
    alien to our common humanity. Such lawless, tricky, extortionate loan
    sharks as now infest our cities were probably not to be found at all in
    mediæval or early modern times. They are a product of a secular process of
    selection. Their ability to evade the laws directed against them is
    consummate. It is true that from time to time we do succeed in catching
    one and fining him, or even imprisoning him. For which risk the small
    borrower is forced to pay, at a usurer's rate.

    Social improvement through the excommunication of property interests is
    inevitably a disorderly process. Wherever it is in operation we are sure
    to find the successive stages indicated in the foregoing examples. First,
    a gradual substitution of the conscienceless property holder for the one
    responsive to public sentiment. Next, under the threat of hostile popular
    action, the timid and resourceless property owner gives way to the
    resourceful and the bold. The third stage in the process is a vigorous
    political movement towards drastic regulation or abolition, evoking a
    desperate attempt on the part of the interests threatened to protect
    themselves by political means–that is, by gross corruption; or, if the
    menaced interest is a vast one, dominating a defensible territory, by
    armed rebellion, as in our own Civil War. If the interest is finally
    overwhelmed politically, and placed completely under the ban of the law,
    it has been given ample time to develop an unscrupulousness of personnel
    and an art of corruption that long enable it to exist illegally, a lasting
    reproach to the constituted authorities.

    V

    Suppression of anti-social interests by the methods in vogue amounts to
    little more than their banishment to the underworld. And we can well
    imagine the joy with which the denizens of the underworld receive such new
    accessions to their numbers and power. For in the nature of the case, it
    is inevitable that all varieties of outcasts and outlaws should join
    forces. The religious schismatic makes common cause with the pariah; the
    political offender with the thief and robber. Such association of elements
    vastly increases the difficulty of repressing crime. The band of thieves
    and robbers in the cave of Adullam doubtless found their powers of preying
    vastly increased through the acquisition of such a leader as David. The
    problem of mediæval vagabondage was rendered well-nigh incapable of
    solution by the fact that any beggar's rags might conceal a holy but
    excommunicated friar.

    Let us once more review our experience with the usurer. As an outcast he
    offers his support to other outcasts, and is in turn supported by them.
    The pawnbroker and the pickpocket are closely allied: without the
    pawnshop, pocketpicking would offer but a precarious living; without the
    picking of pockets, many pawnshops would find it impossible to meet
    expenses. The salary loan shark often works hand in glove with the
    professional gambler; each procures victims for the other. The
    "hole-in-the-wall" or "blind tiger" provides a rendezvous for all the
    outcasts of society. "Boot-legging" is a common subsidiary occupation for
    the pander, the thief and the cracksman. Where it flourishes, it serves to
    bridge over many a period of slack trade. Franchises whose validity is
    subject to political attack, bring to the aid of the underworld some of
    the most powerful interests in the community. The police are almost
    helpless when confronted by a coalition of persons of wealth and
    respectability with professional politicians commanding a motley array of
    yeggs and thugs, pimps and card-sharpers.

    Let us suppose that the developing social conscience places under the ban
    receipt of private income from land and other natural resources, and that
    a powerful movement aiming at the confiscation of such resources is under
    way. It is superfluous to point out that the vast interests threatened
    would offer a desperate resistance. The warfare against an incomparably
    lesser interest, the liquor trade, has taxed all the resources of the
    modern democratic state–on the whole the most absolute political
    organization known. In no instance has the state come out of the struggle
    completely victorious; the proscribed interest is yielding ground, if at
    all, only very slowly. What, then, would be the outcome of a struggle
    against the vastly greater landed interest? Perhaps the state would be
    victorious in the end. But for generations the landed interest would
    survive, if not by title of common law, at least by title of common
    corruption. And in the course of the conflict, we can not doubt that
    political disorder would flourish as never before, and that under its
    shelter private vice and crime would develop almost unchecked.

    We should disabuse ourselves of the notion that the will of a mere
    majority is absolute in the state. The law is a reality only when the
    outlawed interests represent an insignificant minority. Arbitrarily to
    increase the outlawed interests is to undermine the very foundations of
    society.

    VI

    The trend of the foregoing discussion, it will be said, is reactionary in
    the extreme. There are, as all must admit, private interests that are
    prejudicial to the public interest. Are they to be left in possession of
    the privilege of trading upon the public disaster–entrenching themselves,
    rendering still more difficult the future task of the reformer? By no
    means. The writer opposes no criticism to the extinction of anti-social
    private interests; on the contrary, he would have the state proceed
    against them with far greater vigor than it has hitherto displayed. It is
    important, however, to be sure first that a private interest is
    anti-social. Then the question is merely one of method. It is the author's
    contention that the method of excommunication and outlawry is the very
    worst conceivable.

    We are wont to hold up to scorn the British method of compensating liquor
    sellers for licenses revoked. It is an expensive method. But let us weigh
    its corresponding advantages. The licensee does not find himself in a
    position in which he must choose between personal destitution and the
    public interest. He dares not employ methods of resistance that would
    subject him to the risk of forfeiting the right to compensation. He may
    resist by fair means, but if he is intelligent, he will keep his skirts
    clear of foul. If his establishment is closed, he is not left, a ruined
    and desperate man, to project methods for carrying on his trade illicitly.
    On the contrary, the act of compensation has placed in his hands funds in
    which he might be mulcted if convicted of violation of the law. And if
    natural perversity should drive him to illegal practices, he would not
    find himself an object of sympathy on the part of that considerable
    minority that resent injustice even to those whom they regard as
    evil-doers.

    There can be little doubt that by the adoption of the principle of
    adequate compensation, an American commonwealth could extinguish any
    property interest that majority opinion pronounces anti-social. We may
    have industries that menace the public health. Under existing conditions
    the interests involved exert themselves to the utmost to suppress
    information relative to the dangers of such industries. With the principle
    of compensation in operation, these very interests would be the foremost
    in exposing the evils in question. It is no hardship to sell your interest
    to the public. Does any one feel aggrieved when the public decides to
    appropriate his land to a public use? On the contrary, every possessor of
    a site at all suited for a public building or playground does everything
    in his power to display its advantages in the most favorable light.

    And with this we have admitted a disadvantage of the compensation
    principle–over-compensation. We do pay excessively for property rights
    extinguished in the public interest. But this is largely because the
    principle is employed with such relative infrequency that we have not as
    yet developed a technique of compensation. German cities have learned how
    to acquire property for public use without either plundering the private
    owner or excessively enriching him. The British application of the Small
    Holdings Acts has duly protected the interests of the large landholder,
    without making of him a vociferous champion of the Acts.

    Progressive public morality readers one private interest after another
    indefensible. Let the public extinguish such interests, by all means. But
    let the public be moral at its own expense.

    A revolting doctrine, it will be said. Because men have been permitted,
    through gross defect in the laws, to build up interests in dealing out
    poisons to the public, are they to be compensated, like the purveyors of
    wholesome products, when the public decrees that their destructive
    activities shall cease? Because a corrupt legislature once gave away
    valuable franchises, are we and our children, and our children's children,
    forever to pay tribute, in the shape of interest on compensation funds, to
    the heirs of the shameless grantees? Because the land of a country was
    parcelled out, in a lawless age, among the unworthy retainers of a
    predatory prince, must we forever pay rent on every loaf we eat–as we
    should do, in fact, even if we transformed great landed estates into
    privately held funds? Did we not abolish human slavery, without
    compensation, and is there any one to question the justice of the act?

    We did indeed extinguish slavery without compensation to the slave owners.
    But if no one had ever conceived of such a policy we should have been a
    richer nation and a happier one. We paid for the slaves, in blood and
    treasure, many times the sum that would have made every slave owner eager
    to part with his slaves. Such enrichment of the slave owner would have
    been an act of social injustice, it may be said. The saying would be open
    to grave doubt, but the doctrine here advanced runs, not in terms of
    justice, but in terms of social expediency.

    And expediency is commonly regarded as a cheap substitute for justice. It
    is wrongly so regarded. Social justice, as usually conceived, looks to the
    past for its validity. Its preoccupation is the correction of ancient
    wrongs. Social expediency looks to the future: its chief concern is the
    prevention of future wrongs. As a guide to political action, the
    superiority of the claims of social expediency is indisputable.

    VII

    In the foregoing argument it has been deliberately assumed that the
    interests to be extinguished are, for the most part, universally
    recognized as anti-social. Slavery, health-destroying adulteration, the
    maintenance of tenements that menace life and morals, these at least
    represent interests so abominable that all must agree upon the wisdom of
    extinguishing them. The only point in dispute must be one of method. It is
    the contention of the present writer that when even such interests have
    had time to become clothed with an appearance of regularity, the method of
    extinction should be through compensation. By its tolerance of such
    interests, the public has made itself an accomplice in the mischief to
    which they give rise, and accordingly has not even an equitable right to
    throw the whole responsibility upon the private persons concerned.

    Interests thus universally recognized to be evil are necessarily few. In
    the vast majority of cases the establishment of interests we now seek to
    proscribe took place in an epoch in which no evil was imputed to them. At
    first a small minority, usually regarded as fanatics, attack the interests
    in question. This minority increases, and in the end transforms itself
    into a majority. But long after majority opinion has become adverse, there
    remains a vigorous minority opinion defending the menaced interests. A
    hundred years ago the distilling of spirituous liquors was almost
    universally regarded as an entirely legitimate industry. The enemies of
    the industry were few and of no political consequence. Today in many
    communities the industry is utterly condemned by majority opinion. There
    is, however, no community in which a minority honestly defending the
    industry is absolutely wanting. Admitting that the majority opinion is
    right, it remains none the less true that adherents of the minority
    opinion would regard themselves as most grievously wronged if the majority
    proceeded to a destruction of their interests.

    Where moral issues alone are involved, we may perhaps accept the view that
    the well considered opinion of the majority is as near as may be to
    infallibility. But it is very rarely the case that the question of the
    legitimacy of a property interest can be reduced to a purely moral issue.
    Usually there are also at stake, technical and broad economic issues in
    which majority judgment is notoriously fallible. Thus we have at times had
    large minorities who believed that the bank as an institution is wholly
    evil, and ought to be abolished. This was the majority opinion in one
    period of the history of Texas, and in accordance with it, established
    banking interests were destroyed by law. It is only within the last
    fifteen years that the majority of the citizens of that commonwealth have
    admitted the error of the earlier view.

    In the course of the last twenty-five years, notable progress has been
    made in the art of preserving perishable foods through refrigeration.
    There are differences of opinion as to the effect upon the public health
    of food so preserved; and further differences as to the effect of the cold
    storage system upon the cost of living. On neither the physiological nor
    the economic questions involved is majority opinion worthy of special
    consideration. None the less, legislative measures directed against the
    storage interests have been seriously considered in a large number of
    states, and were it not for the difficulties inherent in the regulation of
    interstate commerce, we should doubtless see the practice of cold storage
    prohibited in some jurisdictions. Those whose property would thus be
    destroyed would accept their losses with much bitterness, in view of the
    fact that the weight of expert opinion holds their industry to be in the
    public interest.

    What still further exacerbates the feeling of injury on the part of those
    whose interests are proscribed, is the fact that the purity of motives of
    the persons most active in the campaign of proscription is not always
    clear. Not many years ago we had a thriving manufacture of artificial
    butter. The persons engaged in the industry claimed that their product was
    as wholesome as that produced according to the time-honored process, and
    that its cheapness promised an important advance in the adequate
    provisioning of the people. We destroyed the industry, very largely
    because of our strong bent toward conservatism in all matters pertaining
    to the table. But among the influences that were most active in taxing
    artificial butter out of existence, was the competing dairymen's interest.

    It is asserted by those who would shift the whole burden of taxation onto
    land that they are animated by the most unselfish motives, whereas their
    opponents are defending their selfish interests alone. Yet a common Single
    Tax appeal to the large manufacturer and the small house-owner takes the
    form of a computation demonstrating that those classes would gain more
    through the reduction in the burden on improvements than they would lose
    through increase in burden on the land. Let it be granted that personal
    advantage is not incompatible with purity of motives. The association of
    ideas does not, however, inspire confidence, especially in the breasts of
    those whose interests are threatened.

    Extinction of property interests without compensation necessarily makes
    our legislative bodies the battleground of conflicting interests. Honest
    motives are combined with crooked ones in the attack upon an interest;
    crooked and honest motives combine in its defense. Out of the disorder
    issues a legislative determination that may be in the public interest or
    may be prejudicial to it. And most likely the law is inadequately
    supported by machinery of enforcement: it is effective in controlling the
    scrupulous; to the unscrupulous it is mere paper. In many instances its
    net effect is only to increase the risks connected with the conduct of a
    business.

    When England prohibited importation of manufactures from France, the
    import trade continued none the less, under the form of smuggling. The
    risk of seizure was merely added to the risk of fire and flood. Just as
    one could insure against the latter risks, so the practice arose of
    insuring against seizure. At one time, at any rate, in the French ports
    were to be found brokers who would insure the evasion of a cargo of goods
    for a premium of fifteen per cent. At the safe distance of a century and a
    half, the absurd prohibition and its incompetent administration are
    equally comic. At the time, however, there was nothing comic in the
    contempt for law and order thus engendered, in the feeling of outrage on
    the part of those ruined by seizures, and in the alliance of respectable
    merchants with the thieves and footpads enlisted for the smuggling trade.

    VIII

    It is a common observation of present day social reformers that an
    excessive regard is displayed by our governmental organs for security of
    property, while security of non-property rights is neglected. And this
    would indeed be a serious indictment of the existing order if there were
    in fact a natural antithesis between the security of property and security
    of the person. There is, however, no such antithesis. In the course of
    history the establishment of security of property has, as a rule, preceded
    the establishment of personal security, and has provided the conditions in
    which personal security becomes possible. Adequate policing is essential
    to any form of security. Property can pay for policing; the person can
    not. This is a crude and materialistic interpretation of the facts, but it
    is essentially sound.

    How much personal security existed in England, five centuries and a half
    ago, when it was possible for Richard to carve his way through human flesh
    to the throne? The lowly, certainly, enjoyed no greater security than the
    high born. How much personal security exists in the late Macedonian
    provinces of the Turkish Empire, or in northern Mexico? It is safe to
    issue a challenge to all the world to produce an instance, contemporary or
    historical, of a country in which property is insecure and in which human
    life and human happiness are not still more insecure. On the other hand,
    it is difficult to produce an instance of a state in which security of
    property has long been established, in which there is not a progressive
    sensitiveness about the non-propertied rights of man. It is in the
    countries where the sacredness of private property is a fetich, that one
    finds recognition of a universal right to education, of a right to
    protection against violence and against epidemic disease, of a right to
    relief in destitution. These are perhaps meagre rights; but they represent
    an expanding category. The right to support in time of illness and in old
    age is making rapid progress. The development of such rights is not only
    not incompatible with security of property, but it is, in large measure, a
    corollary of property security. Personal rights shape themselves upon the
    analogy of property rights; they utilize the same channels of thought and
    habit. One of the most powerful arguments for "social insurance" is its
    very name. Insurance is recognized as an essential to the security of
    property; it is therefore easy to make out a case for the application of
    the principle to non-propertied claims.

    Some may claim that the security of property has now fulfilled its
    mission; that we can safely allow the principle to decay in order to
    concentrate our attention upon the task of establishing non-propertied
    rights. But let us remember that we are not removed from barbarism by the
    length of a universe. The crust of orderly civilization is deep under our
    feet: but not six hundred years deep. The primitive fires still smoke on
    our Mexican borders and in the Balkans. And blow holes open from time to
    time through our own seemingly solid crust–in Colorado, in West Virginia,
    in the Copper Country. It is evidently premature to affirm that the
    security of property has fulfilled its mission.

    IX

    The question at issue, is not, however, the rights of property against the
    rights of man–or more honestly–the rights of labor. The claims of labor
    upon the social income may advance at the expense of the claims of
    property. In the institutional struggle between the propertied and the
    propertyless, the sympathies of the writer are with the latter party. It
    is his hope and belief that an ever increasing share of the social income
    will assume the form of rewards for personal effort.

    But this is an altogether different matter from the crushing of one
    private property interest after another, in the name of the social welfare
    or the social morality. Such detailed attacks upon property interests are,
    in the end, to the injury of both social classes. Frequently they amount
    to little more than a large loss to one property interest, and a small
    gain to another. They increase the element of insecurity in all forms of
    property; for who shall say which form is immune from attack? Now it is
    the slum tenement, obvious corollary of our social inequalities; next it
    may be the marble mansion or gilded hotel, equally obvious corollaries of
    the same institutional situation. Now it is the storage of meat that is
    under attack; it may next be the storage of flour. The fact is, our mass
    of income yielding possessions is essentially an organic whole. The
    irreproachable incomes are not exactly what they would be if those subject
    to reproach did not exist. If some property incomes are dirty, all
    property incomes become turbid.

    The cleansing of property incomes, therefore, is a first obligation of the
    institution of property as a whole. The compensation principle throws the
    cost of the cleansing upon the whole mass, since, in the last analysis,
    any considerable burden of taxation will distribute itself over the mass.
    The principle is therefore consonant with justice. What is not less
    important, the principle, systematically developed, would go far toward
    freeing the legislature from the graceless function of arbitrating between
    selfish interests, and the administration from the necessity of putting
    down powerful interests outlawed by legislative act. It would give us a
    State working smoothly, and therefore an efficient instrument for social
    ends. Most important of all, it would promote that security of economic
    interests which is essential to social progress.

    A STUBBORN RELIC OF FEUDALISM

    There is a persistent question regarding the distribution of property
    which is of peculiar interest in the season of automobile tours and summer
    hotels. Most thinking people acknowledge a good deal of perplexity over
    this question, while on most parallel ones they are generally
    cock-sure–on whichever is the side of their personal interests. But in
    this question the bias of personal interest is not very large, and
    therefore it may be considered with more chance of agreement than can the
    larger questions of the same class which parade under various disguises.

    The little question is that of tipping. After we have squeezed out of it
    such antitoxic serum as we can, we will briefly indicate the application
    of it to larger questions.

    Tipping is plainly a survival of the feudal relation, long before the
    humbler men had risen from the condition of status to that of contract,
    when fixed pay in the ordinary sense was unknown, and where the relation
    between servant and master was one of ostensible voluntary service and
    voluntary support, was for life, and in its best aspect was a relation of
    mutual dependence and kindness. Then the spasmodic payment was, as tips
    are now, essential to the upper man's dignity, and very especially to the
    dignity of his visitor. This feudal relation survives in England today to
    such an extent that poor men refrain from visiting their rich relations
    because of the tips. In the great country-houses the tips are expected to
    be in gold, at least so I was told some years ago. And in England and out
    of it, Don Cesar's bestowal of his last shilling on the man who had served
    him, still thrills the audience, at least the tipped portion of it.

    Europe being on the whole less removed from feudal institutions than we
    are, tipping is not only more firmly established there, but more
    systematized. It is more nearly the rule that servants' places in hotels
    are paid for, and they are apt to be dependent entirely upon tips. The
    greater wealth of America, on the other hand, and the extravagance of the
    _nouveaux riches_, has led in some institutions to more extravagant
    tipping than is dreamed of in Europe, and consequently has scattered
    through the community a number of servants from Europe who, when here,
    receive with gratitude from a foreigner, a tip which they would scorn from
    an American.

    In the midst of general relations of contract–of agreed pay for agreed
    service, tipping is an anomaly and a constant puzzle.

    It would seem strange, if it were not true of the greater questions of the
    same kind, that in the chronic discussion of this one, so little
    attention, if any, has been paid to what may be the fundamental line of
    division between the two sides–namely, the distinction between ideal
    ethics and practical ethics.

    An illustration or two will help explain that distinction:

    First illustration: "Thou shalt not kill" which is ideal ethics in an
    ideal world of peace. Practical ethics in the real world are illustrated
    in Washington and Lee, who for having killed their thousands, are placed
    beside the saints!

    Second illustration: Obey the laws and tell the truth. This is ideal
    ethics, which our very legislatures do much to prevent being practical.
    For instance; they ignore the fact that in the present state of morality,
    taxes on personal property can be collected from virtually nobody but
    widows and orphans who have no one to evade the taxes for them. So the
    legislatures continue the attempt to tax personal property, and a judge on
    the bench says that a man who lies about his personal taxes shall not on
    that account be held an unreliable witness in other matters.

    Or to take an illustration less radical: it is not in legal testimony
    alone that ideal ethics require everybody to tell the truth, the whole
    truth, and nothing but the truth–that the world should have as much truth
    as possible; and if the world were perfectly kind, perfectly honest and
    perfectly wise (which last involves the first two), that ideal could be
    realized. For instance, in our imperfect world a man telling people when
    he did not like them, would be constantly giving needless pain and making
    needless enemies, whereas in an ideal world–made up of perfect people,
    there would be nobody to dislike, or, pardon the Hibernicism, if there
    were, the whole truth could be told without causing pain or enmity. Or
    again, in a world where there are dishonest people, a man telling
    everything about his schemes, would have them run away with by others,
    though in an ideal world, where there were no dishonest people, he could
    speak freely. In fact, the necessity of reticence in this connection does
    not even depend on the existence of dishonesty: for in a world where
    people have to look out for themselves, instead of everybody looking out
    for everybody else, a man exposing his plans might hurry the execution of
    competing plans on the part of perfectly honest people.

    Farther illustration may be sufficiently furnished by the topic in hand.

    In the case of most poor folks other than servants, what to do about it
    has lately been pretty distinctly settled: the religion of pauperization
    is pretty generally set aside: almsgiving, the authorities on ethics now
    generally hold, should be restricted to deserving cases–to people
    incapacitated by constitution or circumstance from taking proper care of
    themselves.

    Now is tipping almsgiving, and are servants among the deserving classes?

    How many people have asked themselves these simple questions, and how many
    who are educated up to habitually refusing alms unless the last of the
    questions is affirmatively answered, just as habitually tip servants?

    Is tipping almsgiving? Not in the same sense that alms are given without
    any show of anything in return: the servant does something for the tipper.
    Yes, but he is paid for it by his employer. True, but only sometimes: at
    other times he is only partly paid, depending for the rest on tips; and
    sometimes the tips are so valuable that the servant pays his alleged
    employer for the opportunity to get them. Yet I know one hotel in Germany,
    and probably there are others, there and elsewhere, where the menus and
    other stationery bear requests against tipping. But in that one hotel I
    know tipping to be as rife as in hotels generally: the customers are not
    educated up to the landlord's standard. And here we come to the
    fundamental remedy for all questionable practices–the education of the
    people beyond them. But this is simply the ideal condition in which ideal
    ethics could prevail. Meanwhile we must determine the practical ethics of
    the actual world.

    The servant's position is different from that of most other wage-earners,
    in that he is in direct contact with the person who is to benefit from his
    work. The man who butchers your meat or grinds your flour, you probably
    never see; but the man who brushes your clothes or waits on your table,
    holds to you a personal relation, and he can do his work so as merely to
    meet a necessity, or so as to rise beyond mere necessity into comfort or
    luxury. Outside of home servants, the necessity is all that, in the
    present state of human nature, his regular stipend is apt to provide; the
    comfort or the luxury, the feeling of personal interest, the atmosphere of
    promptness and cheerfulness and ease, is apt to respond only to the tip.
    Only in the ideal world will it be spontaneous. In the real world it must
    be paid for.

    And why should it not be–why is it not as legitimate to pay for having
    your wine well cooled or carefully tempered and decanted, as to pay for
    the wine itself? The objection apt to be first urged is that it degrades
    the servant. But does it? He is not an ideal man in an ideal world,
    already doing his best or paid to do his best. You are not degrading him
    from any such standard as that, into the lower one of requiring tips: you
    are simply taking him as he is. True, if he got no tips, he would not
    depend upon them; but without them he would not do all you want him to;
    before he will do that, he must be developed into a different man–he must
    become a creature of an ideal world. You may in the course of ages develop
    him into that, and as you do, he will work better and better, and tips may
    grow smaller and smaller, until he does his best spontaneously, and tips
    have dwindled to nothing. But to withdraw them now would simply make him
    sulky, and lead to his doing worse than now.

    Another objection urged against tips is that they put the rich tipper at
    an advantage over the poor one. But the rich man is at an advantage in
    nearly everything else, why not here? The idea of depriving him of his
    advantages, is rank communism, which destroys the stimulus to energy and
    ingenuity that, in the present state of human nature, is needed to keep
    the world moving. In an ideal state of human nature, the man with ability
    to create wealth may find stimulus enough, as some do to a considerable
    extent now, in the delight of distributing wealth for the general good;
    but we are considering what is practicable in the present state of human
    nature.

    Another aspect of the case, or at least a wider aspect, is the more
    sentimental one where the tip is prompted as reciprocation for spontaneous
    kindness.

    But in the service of private families, as distinct from service to the
    general public or to visitors it is notorious that constant tipping is
    ruinous. Occasional holidays and treats and presents at Christmas and on
    special occasions are useful, as promoting the general feeling of
    reciprocation. But from visitors the tip is generally essential to
    ensuring the due meed of respect. Yet we can reasonably imagine a time
    when it may not be; and even now, for the casual service of holding a
    horse or brushing off the dust, a hearty "thank you" is perhaps on the
    whole better than a tip.

    Considering the morality of the question all around–the practical ethics
    as well as the ideal, the underlying facts are that no man ought to be a
    servant in the servile sense, and indeed no man ought to be poor; and in
    an ideal world no man would be one or the other. Just how we are to get a
    world without servants or servile people, is perhaps a little more plain
    than how we are to get Mr. Bellamy's world without poor people, which,
    however, amounts to nearly the same thing. At least we will get a less
    servile world, as machinery and organization make service less and less
    personal. Bread has long been to a great extent made away from home; much
    of the washing is also done away in great laundries, and organizations
    have lately been started to call for men's outer clothes, and keep them
    cleaned, repaired and pressed. There is a noticeable rise, too, in the
    dignity of personal service: witness the college students at the summer
    hotels, and the self-respecting Jap in the private family. These
    influences are making for the ideal world in relation to service, and
    _when_ we get it, no man will take tips, and nobody will offer them.

    But in our stage of evolution, the tip, like the larger prizes, is part of
    the general stimulus to the best exertion and the best feeling, and is
    therefore legitimate; but it, like every other stimulus, should not be
    applied in excess, and the tendency should be to abolish it. The rich man
    often is led by good taste and good morals to restrain his expenditure in
    many directions, and there are few directions, if any, in which good taste
    and good morals more commend the happy medium than in tips. Excess in
    them, however, is not always prompted by good nature and generosity and
    reciprocation of spontaneous kindness, but often by desire for comfort,
    and even by ostentation. But all such promptings require regulation for
    the same reason that, it is now becoming generally recognized, the
    promptings of even charity itself require regulation.

    The head of one of the leading Fifth Avenue restaurants once said to the
    writer, substantially: "We don't like tips: they demoralize our men. But
    what can we do about it? We can't stop it, or even keep it within bounds.
    Our customers will give them, and people who have too much money or too
    little sense, give not only dollar bills or five dollar bills, but fifty
    dollar bills and even hundred dollar bills. We have tried to stave off
    customers who do such things: we believe that in the long run it would pay
    us to; but we can't."

    When all the promptings of liberality or selfishness or ostentation are
    well regulated, we will be in the ideal world. Until then, in the actual
    world, it is the part of wisdom to regulate ideal ethics by practical
    ethics–and tip, but tip temperately.

    * * * * *

    And now to apply our principles to a wider field.

    The ideal is that all men should have what they produce. The ideal is also
    that all men should have full shares of the good things of life. These two
    ideals inevitably combine into a third–that all men should produce full
    shares of the good things of life. But the plain fact is that they
    cannot–that no amount of opportunity or appliances will enable the
    average day laborer to produce what Mr. Edison or Mr. Hill or even the
    average deviser of work and guide of labor does. Then even ideal ethics
    cannot say in this actual world: Let both have the same. That would simply
    be Robin Hood ethics: rob the man who produces much, and give the plunder
    to the man who produces little. Hence comes the disguising of the schemes
    to do it, even so that they often deceive their own devisers. What then do
    practical ethics say? They can't say anything more than: Help the less
    capable to become capable, so that he may produce more. But that is at
    least as slow a process as raising the servant beyond the stage of tips.
    Meantime the socialists are unwilling to wait, and propose to rob the
    present owners of the means of production, and take the control of
    industry from the men who manage it now, and put it in the hands of the
    men who merely can influence votes. These men certainly are no less
    selfish and dishonest than the captains of industry, and are vastly less
    able to select the profitable fields of industry, and organize and
    economize industry; whatever product they might squeeze out would be
    vastly less than now, and it would stick to their own fingers no less than
    does what the politicians handle now. Dividing whatever might reach the
    people, without reference to those who produced it, could yield the
    average man no more than he gets now. That's very simple mathematics. One
    of the saddest sights of the day is the number of good people to whom
    these facts are not self-evident.

    In no state of human nature that any persons now living, or the grandchild
    of any person now living, will witness, could such conditions be
    permanent. Their temporary realization might be accomplished; but if it
    were, the able men would not be satisfied with either the low grade of
    civilization inevitable unless they worked, or with being robbed of the
    large share of production that must result from their work. The more
    intelligent of the rank and file, too, would rebel against the conditions
    inevitably lowering the general prosperity, and they would soon realize
    the difference in industrial leadership between "political generals" and
    natural generals. Insurrection would follow, and then anarchy, after which
    things would start again on their present basis, but some generations
    behind.

    But I for one do not expect these experiences, especially in America: for
    here probably enough men have already become property holders to make a
    sufficient balance of power for the preservation of property. If not, the
    first step toward ensuring civilization, is helping enough men to develop
    into property holders, and _continue_ property holders, which general
    experience declares that they will not unless they develop their property
    themselves.

    AN EXPERIMENT IN SYNDICALISM

    During the last twenty years New Zealand has tried many social and
    economic experiments; these experiments have been made by her own
    Legislature, and her own people; and as a rule they have been remarkably
    successful: during the last few months she has had the experience of a new
    one conducted by strangers, and made at her expense. Fortunately there is
    reason to believe that this one will be found to have resulted in benefit
    to New Zealand and its people, while it may prove of service to older and
    larger countries. It is probable that the most widely known of New
    Zealand's experiments is that which aimed at doing justice to employers
    and employees alike by the substitution for the Industrial strike of a
    Court of Arbitration, fairly constituted, on which both Workers and
    Employers were equally represented. This law has been branded by the
    supporters of the usual Strike policy with the name of "Compulsory
    Arbitration," the object being to discredit it in the eyes of the workers,
    as an infringement of their liberty. The title is unfair and misleading.
    Unlike most laws, it never has been of universal application either to
    Workers or Employers, but only to those among them that chose to form
    themselves into industrial Unions, and to register those Unions as subject
    to the provisions of the Statute. The purpose of the Statute was an appeal
    to the common sense of the people, by offering them an alternative method
    of settling disputes and securing that fair-play for both parties which
    experience had shown could seldom be secured by the strike. The law, which
    was first introduced in 1894, had gradually appealed both to workers and
    employers, as worth trying, and before the close of the last century it
    had rendered the country prosperous, and had attracted the attention of
    thoughtful people in many other parts of the world to the "Country Without
    Strikes." Efforts were made in several countries to introduce the
    principle of the New Zealand Statute, but with very little success, as it
    was generally opposed both by workers and employers:–the workers feeling
    confident they could obtain greater concessions by the forceful methods of
    the strike, and the employers suspecting that any Court of Arbitration
    would be likely to give the workers more than, without arbitration, they
    could compel the employers to surrender.

    In the mean time the statutory substitute for the strike continued to
    succeed in New Zealand. Nearly every class of town workers, and some in
    the country, had formed Unions, and registered them under the arbitration
    law. With a single trifling exception, that was speedily put an end to by
    the punishment of the Union with the alternative of heavy fine or
    imprisonment, the country was literally as well as nominally a country
    without a strike. And it was something more than that: its prosperity
    increased year by year, and its production of goods–agricultural,
    pastoral, and manufactured–increased at a pace unequalled elsewhere. Yet
    the prosperity was most apparent in its effect on the conditions of the
    workers: under the successive awards of the arbitration court, wages had
    steadily increased until they had reached a point as high as in similar
    trades in America, while the cost of living was very little more than half
    the rate in any town in the United States. To all intelligent observers
    these facts were evident, and could not be concealed from the workers in
    other countries, especially in Australia, as the nearest geographically to
    New Zealand and commercially the most closely connected.

    The effect, however, on the workers of Australia was not what might have
    been expected. Attempts had been made by some of the State Legislatures to
    introduce arbitration laws more or less like the New Zealand statute, but
    with very partial success. From the first these laws were opposed by the
    leaders of the Labor Unions, who naturally saw a menace to their influence
    in the fact that they became subject to punishment if they attempted to
    use their accustomed powers over their fellow unionists. The example of
    New Zealand was lauded in the Australian Legislatures and newspapers, and
    even in the courts, till at last a feeling of strong antagonism was
    developed among the more advanced class of socialistic Labor men, and it
    was decided by their leaders to undertake a campaign in the neighboring
    Dominion against the system of settling industrial questions by courts,
    and in favor of substituting the system of strikes, with their attendant
    power and profit to the Labor leaders. The first steps taken were sending
    men from Australia or England on lecturing tours through New Zealand, to
    create dissatisfaction with the Arbitration Courts by representing them as
    leaning to the side of the employers, and ignoring the claims of the
    workers. When this had gone on for about a year, workers of various
    classes were induced to cross from Australia, and join the Unions in New
    Zealand, for the purpose of influencing their fellow unionists to
    disloyalty towards the system under which they were registered. These men
    were generally competent workers and clever agitators, and many of them
    soon obtained prominence and official position in the Unions. As was
    natural, a good many of these new-comers were miners–either for coal or
    gold–and many of them joined the miners' union at the great gold mine
    known as the Waihi, from which upwards of thirty million dollars worth of
    gold had been dug, and which was still yielding between three and four
    million dollars a year. There were nearly a thousand miners employed
    there, and all of them were members of a Union that was duly registered
    under the Arbitration statute.

    There had been several questions in dispute between the miners and the
    owners, and these had been referred to the Arbitration Court some time
    before the arrival of the new Australian miners. The result, while it
    favored the Union in some respects, favored the Company in others, and
    this fact was used by the new-comers to convince the older hands that the
    Court had been unfair, and that they could secure much better terms for
    themselves if they would cease work, and so inflict immense loss by
    permitting the lower levels of the mine to become flooded. After a few
    months the Union decided to take advantage of the provision of the law
    which enabled any registered Union to withdraw its registration at six
    months' notice. When the time had expired, the Union repeated the demand
    which had been refused by the Court, and on the refusal of the Company to
    agree, a strike was at once declared, and the whole of the miners ceased
    work. This had the effect, within a very short time, of rendering all the
    deeper levels of the mine unworkable. Close to the mine was a prosperous
    little town occupied chiefly by the miners and their families, most of the
    houses being the property of the mining company, and the men continued to
    occupy the houses while the strike was in progress. Other miners were
    found who were ready to take their places, but the men in possession
    refused to move out, and threatened with violence any miners that should
    attempt to work the mine. The men who had been prepared to work, finding
    this to be the position, withdrew. As there was no actual violence shown,
    there seemed to be a difficulty in the way of any interference by the
    Government: so several months passed, during which the mine lay idle while
    the miners on strike continued to occupy the houses and pay the very
    moderate rents demanded from employees of the company. This they were able
    to do partly from their savings, partly from the sympathetic contributions
    from Australia, and partly by some of the miners having scattered over the
    country and got work on the farms, and throwing their earnings into the
    common fund.

    After repeated appeals by the mine-owners to the Government, an
    arrangement was made that the Company should employ miners willing to
    become members of a new Union registered under the Arbitration statute,
    and that the Government should send a police force sufficient to protect
    these in working the mine, and also to enforce the judgment of the local
    court in dispossessing the occupants of the houses belonging to the
    Company. An attempt was made by the strikers to defy this police force and
    prevent the new Union from working the mine; but when most of the new
    unionists had been sworn in as special constables, and a number of the
    militant strikers had been arrested, the others saw that they could not
    continue the struggle, and within a week or two abandoned the district,
    giving place to the members of the arbitration Union in both the mine and
    town.

    Thus the first strike organized by the "Federation of Labor" in New
    Zealand resulted in a failure, but the miners thus defeated and driven
    from the little town that had been their home, in many cases for a good
    many years, were naturally embittered by their failure, and became an
    element of mischief in other districts, and especially in the coal mines,
    to which they turned when they found it hard to obtain employment in any
    of the gold mines.

    The Australian Federation of Labor and its branch in New Zealand fully
    appreciated the fact that their first attempt to establish a system of
    Unionism opposed to the one recognized by the law, having proved a
    failure, it was necessary either to give up the attempt altogether or to
    make it more deliberately and on a much wider scale. The method they
    adopted was one that did credit to their foresight and determination. The
    Australian Federation is, and has always been, highly socialistic in its
    policy, and latterly its leaders have adopted and preached syndicalism, as
    promising to give the workers the control of society. New Zealand, alone
    among self-governing countries, having struck at the very root of their
    policy by trying to substitute a statute and a Court for the will of the
    associated workers, was a very tempting country for syndicalism. An island
    country which, owing to climate and soil, was specially suited for the
    production of all kinds of agricultural wealth beyond the needs of its own
    people, must depend on free access to the ports of other countries. This,
    it seemed plain, could be prevented by well managed syndicalism. It would
    be only necessary to organize the seamen who worked the vessels that kept
    the smaller harbors of such a country in touch with the larger ports at
    which the ocean going ships loaded and unloaded; and to organize also the
    stevedores at the larger ports. The bitterness of feeling that had
    followed the destruction of the Waihi Union, and the loss to its members
    not only of a good many months of good wages but of the homes they and
    their families had occupied for years, was a valuable asset in such a
    campaign. At first, of course, some of the working classes blamed the
    agents of "The Federation of Labor" who were responsible for the
    disastrous strike, but it was not difficult to turn attention from the
    past failure of a single strike, to the certain success that must attend a
    great syndical strike that would involve all the industries of the
    country. Most, indeed nearly all, of the disappointed Waihi strikers were
    ready to join with enthusiasm in carrying out the plans of The Federation,
    and removed to the places where they could be most effective in preparing
    the way for what they looked upon as a great revenge. Thus they either
    joined the old Unions at the principal ports, especially Auckland and
    Wellington, or formed new Unions, no longer registered under the
    Arbitration statute, but openly affiliated to The Federation of Labor,
    which had been established in New Zealand, but was really a branch of the
    Australian Federation. The four principal ports of New Zealand, indeed the
    only ports much frequented by the large export and import vessels, are
    Auckland, Wellington, Lyttleton, and Dunedin, the two first named being in
    the north island, and the other two in the south. Auckland is considerably
    the largest city in The Dominion, containing at least 25,000 more
    inhabitants than Wellington, which is not only the capital of the
    Dominion, but also the great distributing centre for the South island and
    the southern part of the North island, at the southern extremity of which
    it is situated. The remarkable situation of Auckland, on a very narrow
    isthmus about a hundred and eighty miles from the northern point of the
    country, is no doubt largely responsible for the growth of the city, which
    is the chief centre of the young manufactures of the Dominion, and the
    largest port of export for almost all the country produces, except wool
    and mutton, which are mainly raised in the South island. Thus it happens
    that Auckland and Wellington are at present the chief shipping ports of
    the Dominion, and it was to them that the Federation of Labor turned its
    chief attention when its leaders had definitely decided to undertake the
    campaign of syndicalism against the system of arbitration which had
    prevailed for sixteen years.

    There had already been formed Unions of Waterside Workers and Seamen at
    each of these ports; but they were in all cases registered under the
    arbitration law, and of course subject to its penalties against both
    officials and members in cases of any breach of the statute. The
    Federation's agents proceeded to collect the members of these unions who
    were in any way dissatisfied with the existing awards of the Arbitration
    Courts, and to form them into new Unions outside the statute. They had
    little difficulty in persuading the men that the new Unions would be free
    to act in many directions that were barred to the members of the old
    Unions. A good many of the men were thus persuaded to resign their
    membership in the existing Unions, and as they were very often the most
    active members, they gradually persuaded others to leave with them. There
    was nothing either in the law or custom of the ports to prevent unionists
    and non-unionists working together on the wharves or the coasting vessels;
    so within a comparatively short time the members of the new Federation
    Unions were more numerous than those that clung to the older ones. When
    this became the case, the officials of the new Unions approached the
    shipping companies with proposals for an agreement between them and the
    Federation Unions in some respects more favorable to the employers than
    the arbitration award under which the older Unions were working, and in
    this way gained a position which enabled them to undermine the old Unions,
    till they either died out for want of members or withdrew their
    registration, and at the end of their six months' notice merged their
    Unions in those of The Federation. The Federation's plans had been so
    carefully prepared that there was little or no suspicion on the part of
    the employers or of the public generally as to the true meaning of the
    movement. It was evident, of course, that it indicated a revolt against
    the arbitration law, but as the new unions appeared ready to give the
    employers rather better terms than the old ones, many reasons were found
    by employers for defending what began to be called the "Free Unions." In
    this way things had gone on at the shipping ports for about two years from
    the failure of the gold miners' strike at Waihi, before anything happened
    to open the eyes of the public to the real meaning of what The Federation
    of Labor had been doing. In that time the new Unions at each of the
    principal ports of the country had quietly obtained the entire control of
    the hands at waterside and local shipping, as well as of the Carters
    Unions. The time had arrived when the syndicalists believed themselves
    able to compel the public to submit to any demands they might see fit to
    make.

    The occasion finally arose, as might have been expected, at Wellington,
    where the Federation of Labor had established its head-quarters. There was
    no definite dispute between the employers and workers, but for a few weeks
    there had been an uneasy feeling in relation to the Waterside Workers who,
    it was said, were growing more lazy and slovenly in handling cargo on the
    wharves and piers. A meeting had been called by The Federation to discuss
    some grievances of the coal miners at Westport, from which most of the
    coal landed in Wellington is brought. The meeting was called for the noon
    dinner hour, and a number of the waterside workers engaged in discharging
    cargo from a steamer about to sail, at once went to the meeting, and did
    not return to work in the afternoon. The shipping company at once engaged
    other men to finish their work, and when the men came back some hours
    later, they found their places filled up. The new men belonged to the same
    Union, but the men dispossessed demanded that the new ones should be
    dismissed at once. When the company refused the demand, the men appealed
    to the Council of the Federation, who at once called on the Waterside
    Workers and Seamens Unions at Wellington to cease work. Within a few days
    the position looked so serious that the Premier invited both parties to a
    conference, at which he presided in person, in the hope of bringing about
    an agreement to refer the matters in dispute to an arbitrator to be
    mutually agreed upon. The officials of The Federation, however, said there
    was nothing to submit to an arbitrator: they had made a demand, and unless
    it was complied with by the shipping company and the Union of merchants at
    Wellington who were in league with the Company in victimizing the men who
    took part in the meeting in aid of the Coal-miners, the strike must go on.
    The Merchants and Shipping Company's Unions pointed out that what had been
    done was in direct opposition to the terms of the formal agreement signed
    less than a year before, and they refused to have anything more to do with
    the Federation on any terms. The conference thus ended in an open
    declaration of war. The time had evidently come for the Federation of
    Labor to make good the assertions so often made by its lecturers and
    agitators, of its power to force the rest of the community to submission.
    It would be difficult to imagine a more favorable position for carrying
    such a policy into effect: New Zealand, it must be borne in mind, is a
    country without an army. For some years past, it is true, a system of
    military training for all her young men between eighteen and twenty-five
    has been enforced by law, but except for training purposes, there is no
    military force in the Dominion, either of regulars or militia; and it is
    now forty-five years since the last company of British soldiers left its
    shores. Law has been maintained, and order enforced, by a police force
    under the control of the Government of the Dominion, and while the force
    is undoubtedly a good and trustworthy one, its numbers have never been
    large in proportion to the population. This year the entire force
    throughout the country is very little more than 850, which includes
    officers as well as men. It can hardly be wondered at that the officials
    of The Federation of Labor were convinced that, if they could arrange a
    general strike of the workers, the police force would be powerless to deal
    with it. On the failure of the attempt of the Premier to bring about a
    settlement between the parties by arbitration, the Federation proclaimed a
    general strike of all Unions affiliated to themselves throughout the
    country, and of all other Unions that were in sympathy with them in their
    policy of giving united Labor the control of society. The order to cease
    work was at once obeyed, as a matter of course, by all the Federation
    Unions, which practically meant all the workers engaged on vessels
    registered in the Dominion and trading on the coast, all workers on
    wharves and piers, carters in the cities, and coal miners throughout the
    country. The appeal for sympathetic assistance from Unions unconnected
    with the Federation was largely successful in the chief centres, though it
    was, of course, a direct defiance of the arbitration law under which they
    were registered. It has since been discovered that in nearly every case it
    was brought about by the unprincipled scheming of the secretaries,
    assisted by a few of the officials, who called meetings, of which notice
    was given only to a selected minority, and at which the question of
    joining a sympathetic strike was settled by a large majority of those
    present, but in fact in many cases a small minority of the whole
    membership. The sympathetic strike of Arbitration Unions was mainly
    confined to the cities, and Auckland, as the largest city, was the most
    affected by it. In Auckland the members of practically every Union ceased
    work, somewhere about ten thousand persons going on strike simultaneously.

    The result during the first days of the strike seemed likely to confirm
    the expectations of the Federation orators. Industry was practically dead.
    At every port vessels lay at anchor, having been withdrawn from the
    wharves before they were deserted by their crews, and the wharves were in
    the possession of the Waterside strikers. The streets of the cities were
    empty, and a large proportion of the stores were closed, partly owing to
    want of business, and partly from fear of violence in case they kept open.
    These first few days in both New Zealand and Australia were days of
    triumph for the Federation leaders but the triumph was a short-lived one.
    The Government of the Dominion did not interfere, indeed, but the public,
    through their municipal authorities, did. The people of New Zealand have
    throughout their history been accustomed to manage their own affairs, and
    within four days of the declaration of war by the syndical Federation,
    steps were taken to meet the emergency. At Auckland and Wellington it had
    been evident from the first that the small police force available could
    not safely attempt to cope with the main body of strikers, or do more than
    prevent acts of aggressive violence to the citizens and their property.
    The local authorities, however, had confidence in the general public, and
    at Auckland, and afterwards at Wellington, the Mayor of the city appealed
    to the public to come forward as volunteers to maintain law and order, by
    acting as Special Constables. In both cities the appeal was responded to
    readily, nearly two thousand young men coming forward at Auckland in
    twenty-four hours, and upwards of a thousand at Wellington. These were at
    once sworn in as special constables, and armed with serviceable batons,
    while all the fire-arms and ammunition for sale in the city was taken
    charge of and withdrawn from sale by the municipal authorities. In this
    way the maintenance of order was fairly provided for, and the temporary
    closing of all licensed hotels by order of the city magistrates removed
    the danger of riot as the result of intemperance.

    There had been some rioting in Wellington, though with little serious
    injury, but there was nothing that could be called a riot in Auckland. The
    Federation Unions waited, under the impression that time was on their
    side, owing to the impossibility of doing anything or getting anything
    done without the help of the associated workers. This had been the basis
    of their scheme, but like all such schemes it failed to take into account
    the instinct of self-preservation on the part of the people outside the
    Unions. As long as the strike leaders could point to the fleet of vessels
    lying idle in the harbor, the mills silent, and the street railroads
    without a moving car, and almost deserted by carts, it was easy for them
    to persuade their followers that complete victory was only a matter of
    days, or at most of weeks; they had not remembered that there were others
    besides themselves and their fellow townsmen interested in the question of
    a paralyzed industry. The trade that has been making the people of New
    Zealand increasingly rich during the last twenty years has been mainly
    derived from the land. Small holdings and close settlement have been the
    rule, and the rate of production has been increasingly rapid. The
    exports–mainly the produce of the land–have grown in proportions quite
    unknown in any other country, and the farmers knew that the prosperity of
    the country, and most directly of all the workers on the land, depended on
    the freedom and facilities for shipment of their ports. It was the workers
    on the land, accordingly, that came to the rescue, and solved the
    industrial problem. An offer was made by the President of The Farmers'
    Cooperative Union to bring a sufficient number of the members into the
    cities to work the shipping and to prevent any interruption of the work by
    the men on strike. The offer was at once accepted by the municipal
    authorities at Auckland and Wellington, and within two days fully eighteen
    hundred mounted farmers rode into Auckland, and nearly a thousand into
    Wellington, all prepared to carry on the work and protect the workers.
    Their arrival practically settled the question. New Waterside Unions were
    formed at every port, and registered under the provisions of the
    Arbitration Statute; such of the country workers as were able to do so,
    enrolled themselves as members of the new Unions; the wharves and water
    fronts were taken possession of and guarded by the special constables
    enlisted in the cities, while the streets were patrolled by parties of the
    mounted volunteers. Within twenty-four hours of their arrival, some of the
    vessels in harbor had been brought to the wharves, and the work of
    unloading them was begun.

    At first there were many threats of violent opposition on the part of the
    strikers, and crowds assembled in the principal streets and in the
    neighborhood of the wharves; but these were dispersed before they became
    dangerous, by the mounted constables, and a proclamation having been
    issued by the mayor calling attention to the fact that collections of
    people that obstructed traffic in the streets were contrary to law, the
    police and mounted constables cleared the streets, and forcibly arrested
    any persons who attempted opposition. Within two or three days, at each of
    the principal cities, new Unions of seamen and of carters had been formed
    and registered under the arbitration law, and those members of the old
    Federation Unions who were not enthusiastic, and began to see that the
    assurances of success were not likely to be realized, began to resign and
    apply for admission to the new Unions. After about two weeks the Council
    of The Federation of Labor, recognizing the failure of the sympathetic
    strike, invited the Unions that were not connected with them to declare
    the strike at an end, and tried by confining the strike to their own
    members, to maintain a solid front, which, with the help of the Australian
    Federation both in money for the strikers and in refusing to handle any
    goods either from or for New Zealand, they still hoped would carry them to
    at least a compromise, if not to the victory they had expected. The hopes
    of the Federation of Labor were not realized. Within a week or two a large
    proportion of the members of their own Unions, seeing their places filled,
    and their work being done, not by free labor, which they might hope to
    deal with, but by new Unions, whose members would be entitled, under the
    arbitration law, to preference and many other privileges, began to desert
    and to seek admission to the Arbitration Unions that had taken their
    place. For a time this was fiercely denied by the Federation officials,
    but as the days went on, and business of every kind was resumed in the
    cities, the groups of strikers at street corners and around the Federation
    head-quarters dwindled away; the hotels were reopened, the shops and
    stores were busy, the mills were at work, and even the coastal steamers
    were manned and running, and the federationists were forced to admit that
    they were hopelessly defeated. For a time they still hoped that the
    Australian Boycott might save them from absolute disaster, and the Labor
    Ministry of New South Wales tried to help the Federation by making an
    appeal to the New Zealand Government to arrange an arbitration to settle
    the dispute between The Wellington Waterside Workers and the merchants and
    shipping companies. The absolute refusal of the New Zealand Government to
    recognize The Federation of Labor, or to interfere with the new Unions
    under the Arbitration Act that had taken their place, finally settled the
    question, and completed the defeat of the strikers. The officials of the
    Federation declared the strike at an end, and the Australian Federation
    announced that the boycott was also at an end.

    * * * * *

    At first sight it may seem that, after all, the experiment in syndicalism
    was on a small scale, and that its lesson can hardly be of great value to
    a country like America. A little consideration may correct such a
    misapprehension. New Zealand was deliberately selected by the Syndicalists
    as a test case, for two reasons. In the first place it was the only
    country that had for years adopted a policy of justice according to law
    for both workers and employers, and from the syndicalist's point of view
    it was therefore the only country that seriously attacked their own policy
    by showing that it was unnecessary. In the second place New Zealand was
    the only country with a population of British origin that could be dealt
    with practically by itself. With the aid of an Australian boycott it
    seemed as if her people must be helpless in the hands of the Federation.
    The result proved to be not only the defeat of the principle of lawless
    syndicalism, but the destruction of the industrial association that
    represented it in the country. No compromise was accepted, and except it
    may be in name, no Union attached to the Federation of Labor remains at
    work. The question, of course, suggests itself: What was the reason? Minor
    reasons may be found, no doubt, to account for failure where success was
    so confidently expected; but there can be little doubt that the real cause
    is the policy pursued by the Legislature and people of New Zealand for the
    last twenty years. Syndicalism, like all plans for the over turn, or
    reform, as their advocates would perhaps prefer to call it, of existing
    institutions, depends for success on the existence of wrongs by which part
    of the people is impoverished, while another, and very small part, has
    more than enough. The workers of our own race, at any rate, have enough
    common-sense to understand, at least when they are not hysterically
    excited, that imaginary wrongs are not a sufficient reason for great
    sacrifices. New Zealand's legislation has not created an ideal society, it
    is true; but for twenty years it has proceeded step by step in the
    direction of righting the wrongs of the past, and giving opportunity to
    that part of its people that needed it most, on the single condition that
    they would use it, and respect the rights of others. To such a people,
    increasing steadily, year by year, in all that makes for well-being, the
    wild denunciations, and if possible wilder promises, of paid agitators can
    have little attraction. It may be possible by careful generalship to stir
    a small section of such a people to the hysterical excitement of an
    industrial war, but the mass of the people would be certain to resent it,
    and the movement will be doomed to a speedy collapse.

    Other countries have been less enlightened and less fortunate than New
    Zealand in their legislation, and perhaps still less fortunate in the
    administration of the laws passed for the betterment of the masses of
    their people. They have done little to convince the great majority that
    they are aware of the wrongs that have been done that majority in the
    supposed interest of the small class of the over rich. They have not
    provided opportunity for those who hitherto have had none, nor have they
    even provided a reasonable alternative for industrial warfare. Had they
    done these things in the past, or were they even to begin honestly to
    provide for them in the future, they might confidently expect that the
    reign of industrial warfare, which exasperates their people, and retards
    the prosperity of their nation, would be as easily and effectually
    suppressed as the experiment of the Syndicalists has just been in New
    Zealand.

    LABOR: "TRUE DEMAND" AND IMMIGRANT SUPPLY

    A RESTATEMENT OF THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF IMMIGRATION POLICY

    Recent historians and economists have been showing that it was anything
    but pure and unadulterated sense of brotherhood that prompted many of our
    forefathers' fine speeches about opening the doors of America to the
    down-trodden and oppressed of Europe. Emerson, fifty years ago, in his
    essay on _Fate_ noted the current exploitation of the immigrant: "The
    German and Irish millions, like the Negro, have a great deal of guano in
    their destiny. They are ferried over the Atlantic, and carted over
    America, to ditch and to drudge, to make corn cheap, and then to lie down
    prematurely to make a spot of green grass on the prairie." Indeed it would
    not be hard to show that there was always a real or potential social
    surplus back of our national hospitality to the alien.

    The process began long before our great nineteenth century era of
    industrial expansion. Colonial policies with regard to the immigrant
    varied according to latitude and longitude. Most of the New England
    colonies viewed the foreigner with distrust as a menace to Puritan
    theocracy. New York, Pennsylvania, and some of the Southern colonies were
    much more hospitable, for economic reasons. That this hospitality
    sometimes resembled that of the spider to the fly is evident from
    observations of contemporary writers. That it included whites as well as
    negroes in its ambiguous welcome is equally evident.

    John Woolman writes in his _Journal_ (1741-2): "In a few months after I
    came here my master bought several Scotchmen as servants, from on board a
    vessel, and brought them to Mount Holly to sell." Isaac Weld, traveling in
    the United States in the last decade of the eighteenth century, noted
    methods of securing aliens in the town of York, Pennsylvania: "The
    inhabitants of this town as well as those of Lancaster and the adjoining
    country consist principally of Dutch and German immigrants and their
    descendants. Great numbers of these people emigrate to America every year
    and the importation of them forms a very considerable branch of commerce.
    They are for the most part brought from the Hanse towns and Rotterdam. The
    vessels sail thither from America laden with different kinds of produce
    and the masters of them on arriving there entice as many of these people
    on board as they can persuade to leave their native country, without
    demanding any money for their passages. When the vessel arrives in America
    an advertisement is put into the paper mentioning the different kinds of
    people on board whether smiths, tailors, carpenters, laborers, or the like
    and the people that are in want of such men flock down to the vessel.
    These poor Germans are then sold to the highest bidder and the captain of
    the vessel or the ship holder puts the money into his pocket."

    These may be, it is true, extreme cases of the economic motive for
    immigration. But they are quite in line with eighteenth century
    Mercantilist economic philosophy. Josiah Tucker, for example, in his
    _Essay on Trade_, 1753, urges the encouragement of immigration from
    France, and cites the value of Huguenot refugees. "Great was the outcry
    against them at their first coming. Poor England would be ruined!
    Foreigners encouraged! And our own people starving! This was the popular
    cry of the times. But the looms in Spittle-Fields, and the shops on
    Ludgate-Hill have at last sufficiently taught us another lesson … these
    _Hugonots_ have … partly got, and partly saved, in the space of fifty
    years, a balance in our favour of, at least, fifty millions sterling….
    And as England and France are rivals to each other, and competitors in
    almost all branches of commerce, every single manufacturer so coming over,
    would be our gain, and a double loss to France."

    The obverse side of the case appears in British hindrances to the free
    emigration of artisans during the eighteenth and early nineteenth
    centuries. Laws forbade any British subject who had been employed in the
    manufacture of wool, cotton, iron, brass, steel, or any other metal, of
    clocks, watches, etc., or who might come under the general denomination of
    artificer or manufacturer, to leave his own country for the purpose of
    residing in a foreign country out of the dominion of His Britannic
    Majesty. Recall the difficulty early American manufacturers encountered in
    introducing new English improvements in cotton manufacture; a virtual
    embargo was laid upon the migration of either men or machinery. Recall,
    too, an expression of American resentment in our Declaration of
    Independence at this English attitude: "He has endeavored to prevent the
    population of these states; for that purpose, obstructing the laws for
    naturalization of foreigners, refusing to pass others to encourage
    migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of
    lands."

    On the whole, the economic motive seems to have been uppermost in the
    minds of both those who fostered and those who opposed foreign immigration
    into the United States, up to, say, 1870. Likewise in perhaps more than
    ninety-nine of every hundred cases the economic motive holds in the mind
    of the present day immigrant, or his protagonist. Escape from political
    tyranny or religious persecution, at least since the revolutionary period
    of 1848, has operated only as a secondary motive. The industrial impulse
    is all the more striking in the so-called "new immigration" from the
    Mediterranean and South-Eastern Europe. The temporary migrant laborer, the
    "bird of passage," roams about seeking his fortunes in much the same
    spirit that certain Middle Age Knights or Crusades camp followers sought
    theirs. This is in no way to his discredit. It is simply a fact that we
    are to reckon with when called upon to work out a satisfactory immigration
    policy. At least its recognition would eliminate a good deal of wordy
    sentimentality from discussions of the immigration problem.

    Professor Fairchild discovered that three things attract the Greek
    immigrant. First and foremost, financial opportunities. Second, corollary
    to the first, citizenship papers which will enable him to return to
    Turkey, there to carry on business under the greater protection which such
    citizenship confers. There is a hint here to the effect that mere
    naturalization does not mean assimilation and permanent acceptance of the
    status and responsibilities of American citizenship. Third, enjoyment of
    certain more or less factitious "comforts of civilization."

    But the Greeks are by no means untypical. The conclusion of the
    Immigration Commission as to the causes of the new immigration is that
    while "social conditions affect the situation in some countries, the
    present immigration from Europe to the United States is in the largest
    measure due to economic causes. It should be stated, however, that
    emigration from Europe is not now an absolute economic necessity, and as a
    rule those who emigrate to the United States are impelled by a desire for
    betterment rather than by the necessity of escaping intolerable
    conditions. This fact should largely modify the natural incentive to treat
    the immigration movement from the standpoint of sentiment, and permit its
    consideration primarily as an economic problem. In other words, the
    economic and social welfare of the United States should now ordinarily be
    the determining factor in the immigration policy of the Government."

    This delimitation of the immigration problem to its economic aspects led
    the Immigration Commission to recommend a somewhat restrictionist policy.
    That they were not without warrant in so delimiting it is evident from the
    utterances of such ardent opponents of restriction as Dr. Peter Roberts
    and Max J. Kohler. The latter, writing in the _American Economic Review_
    (March, 1912) said: "In fact, the immigrant laborer is indispensable to
    our economic progress today, and we can rely upon no one else to build our
    houses, railroads and subways, and mine our ores for us." Dr. Roberts'
    plea is almost identical.

    What a glaring misconception of the whole economic and social problem is
    here involved will appear if we add a clause or two to Mr. Kohler's
    sentence. He should have said: "We can rely upon no one else to build our
    houses, railroads and subways, and mine our ores for us _at $455 a year;
    for workers of native birth but of foreign fathers would cost us $566, and
    native born White Americans $666 a year_." (See Abstracts of Rep. of
    Immigr. Comm. vol. i., pp. 405-8.) These are the facts. This is the social
    situation as it should be stated if a candid discussion of the problem is
    sought.

    Now what are the economic arguments for restricting somewhat the tide of
    immigration? Several studies of standards of living among American
    workingmen within the past ten years have shown that a large proportion of
    American wage earners fall below a minimum efficiency standard. Studies of
    American wages indicate that only a little over ten per cent of American
    wage earners receive enough to maintain an average family in full social
    efficiency. The average daily wage for the year ranges from $1.50 to $2.
    One-half of all American wage earners get less than $600 a year;
    three-quarters less than $750; only one-tenth more than $1,000.

    Take in connection with these wage figures the statistics for
    unemployment. The proportion of idleness to work ranges from one-third in
    mining industries to one-fifth in other industries. In Massachusetts,
    1908, manufacturers were unemployed twelve per cent of the working time.
    Professor Streightoff estimated three years ago that the average annual
    loss in this country through unemployment is 1,000,000 years of working
    time. Perhaps one-tenth of working time might be taken as a very
    conservative general average loss. But the worst feature of the whole
    problem is that, in certain industries at least, the tendency to seasonal
    unemployment is increasing. Ex-Commissioner Neill in his report on the
    Lawrence strike said: "… it is a fact that the tendency in many lines of
    industry, including textiles, is to become more and more seasonal and to
    build to meet maximum demands and competitive trade conditions more
    effectively. This necessarily brings it about that a large number of
    employés are required for the industry during its period of maximum
    activity who are accordingly of necessity left idle during the period of
    slackness." (Senate Document 870, 62d Cong., 2d sess., 1912.)

    If we recall still further that the casual laborer, who suffers most from
    seasonal unemployment, is the chief stumbling block in the way to a
    solution of the problem of poverty; that he furnishes the human power in
    "sweated trades:" that immigrants form the majority of unskilled and
    sweated laborers; if we remember that there is not a shred of evidence
    (except the well-meant enthusiasm of the protagonists of the immigrant) to
    show that immigration has "forced-up" the American laborer and his
    standard of living, instead of displacing him downward; if we remember
    that probably 10,000,000 of our people are in poverty, and that though the
    immigrant may not seek charity in any larger proportions than the poor of
    native stock, yet he does contribute heavily to our burden of relief for
    dependents and defectives: we are justified in assuming that an analysis
    of the causes of poverty confirms the evidence from studies of wages and
    standards of living as to the depressing effect of the new immigration, in
    particular, upon working conditions for the American laborer.

    Consider, too, the question of "social surplus." Several American
    economists, among them Professors Hollander, Patten and Devine, agree that
    we are creating annually in the United States a substantial social
    surplus. But it is evident from the figures of wages and standards of
    living quoted above that the American laborer is not participating as he
    might expect to participate in this economic advantage. Three factors
    conspire against him. First, we have yet no adequate machinery for
    determining exactly what the surplus is, or how to distribute it
    equitably. Mr. Babson with his "composite statistical charts" has made a
    beginning in the mathematical determination of prosperity; but it is only
    a beginning. Second, organized labor is not yet sufficiently organized nor
    sufficiently self-conscious to perceive and demand its opportunity for a
    larger share. The significant point here is that recent immigration has
    hampered and hindered the development of labor organizations, and thus
    indirectly held back the normal tendency of wages to rise. Third,
    inadequate education, particularly economic and social education. The
    adult illiterate constitutes a tremendous educational problem. Over 35 per
    cent of the "new immigration" of 1913 was illiterate, and this new
    immigration included over two-thirds of the total. Ignorance prevents the
    laborer from demanding the very education that would give him a better
    place in the economic system; it hinders the play of intelligent
    self-interest; and it actually prevents effective labor-organization,
    which is one of the surest means of labor-education. Jenks and Lauck,
    after experience with the Immigration Commission, concluded that "the fact
    that recent immigrants are usually of non-English speaking races, and
    their high degree of illiteracy, have made their absorption by the labor
    organizations very slow and expensive. In many cases, too, the conscious
    policy of the employers of mixing the races in different departments and
    divisions of labor, in order, by a diversity of tongues, to prevent
    concerted action on the part of employés, has made unionization of the
    immigrant almost impossible."

    For these reasons, and others, we are driven to the conclusion that future
    policies of immigration must be based on sound principles of social
    welfare and social economy, and not upon the economic advantage of certain
    special industries. Whether we want the brawn of the immigrant must be
    determined by what it will contribute to the general social surplus, and
    not by what it adds to A's railroads or B's iron mines.

    We are told that the three classes of our population demanding
    unrestricted immigration are large employers of unskilled labor,
    transportation companies, and revolutionary anarchists. Since this is by
    definition an economic and not a philosophical question, we may neglect
    the third class. To the other two classes should be directed certain brief
    tests of economic good faith. Take at its face value their claim that
    European brawn by the ship-load is indispensable to American industry. It
    is becoming an accepted maxim that industry should bear its own charges,
    should pay its own way. American industry has long fought the
    contract-labor exclusion feature in current immigration law. Suppose we
    frankly admit that it is much better for the immigrant to come over here
    to a definite job than to wander about for weeks after he arrives, a prey
    to immigrant banks, fake employment agents, and other sharks. Suppose,
    accordingly, we repeal the laws against contract-labor. Let the employer
    contract for as many foreign laborers as he likes or says he needs. But
    make the contractor liable for support and deportation costs if the
    laborers become public charges. Also require him to assume the cost of
    unemployment insurance. Exact a bond for the faithful performance of these
    terms, guaranteed in somewhat the same way that National Banks are
    safeguarded. Immigration authorities now commonly require a bond from the
    relatives of admitted aliens who seem likely to become public charges, but
    who are allowed to enter with the benefit of the doubt. Customs and
    revenue rules admit dutiable goods in bond. Hence the principle of the
    bond is perfectly familiar, and its application to contract-immigrants
    would be in no sense an untried or dangerous experiment. It would
    establish no new precedent: for precedents, and successful ones, are
    already established, accepted and approved. It would be understood that
    all admissions of aliens can be only provisional, with no time limit on
    deportation. It would be understood further–and the plan would work
    automatically if the contractor were made such a deeply interested
    party–that intending immigrants must be rigidly inspected, that they be
    required to produce consular certificates of clean police record, freedom
    from chronic disease, insanity, etc.

    The result of such a scheme would probably cut away entirely
    contract-labor; for it would not longer pay. But this does not mean
    barring the gate to all foreign labor. As an aid to the employer and to
    our own native workingman, we must, sooner or later, and the sooner the
    better, establish a chain of labor bureaus throughout the Union. The
    system must be placed under Federal direction, largely because the
    Department of Labor would be charged, _ex officio_, with ascertaining the
    "true demand" for immigrant labor, and it could only accomplish this end
    effectively through such an employment clearing system. This true demand
    would, of course, be based not only upon mere numerical excess of calls
    for labor over demands for jobs, but would also take into account the
    nature of the work, working conditions, and above all the prevailing level
    of wages. According to this true demand the Department would adjust a
    sliding scale of admissions of immigrant laborers.

    Much might be said in favor of an absolute embargo upon all immigration
    until such a body as the Industrial Relations Commission has time to make
    an authoritative economic survey of the whole country, or until the
    Unemployment Research Commission recently called for by Miss Kellor could
    make the three years' study contemplated by her as the only way out of the
    unemployment morass. Twenty years ago men of the type of General Walker
    frankly urged that the immigration gates be closed for a flat period of
    ten years or so. But the sliding scale plan contemplates no such radical
    step. Indeed it is radical in no sense whatever. The proposed immigration
    act now before Congress (The Burnett Bill, H.R. 6060) paves the way for
    it, and provides a working principle, which apparently is accepted on all
    sides. Section 3 includes this clause: "That skilled labor, if otherwise
    admissible, may be imported if labor of like kind unemployed can not be
    found in this country, and the question of the necessity of importing such
    skilled labor in any particular instance may be determined by the
    Secretary of Labor…." A really workable test for immigration, superior
    by far to the literacy test or any other so far suggested, might easily be
    developed by simply enlarging the scope of this clause, making it include
    unskilled as well as skilled labor. No machinery other than that
    contemplated by the present act would be required.

    The immigration problem can never be satisfactorily handled until we fix
    upon some such means of determining just what the economic need is. There
    is no danger of hindering legitimate industrial expansion in times of
    sudden business prosperity: for the transportation companies may be safely
    trusted to supply in three or four weeks aliens enough to fill all the
    gaps in the industrial army. Neither would injustice be done to the
    immigrant himself. On the contrary, he would be assured of a job and
    respectful consideration when he arrived. The "dago" or the "bohunk" would
    acquire a new dignity and a more enviable status than he now occupies. The
    selective process thus involved would much improve the quality of the
    immigrant admitted, and would incidentally render assimilation of the
    foreigner all the easier.

    The precise details of selection, and the machinery, are mere matters of
    detail. But the consular service, as long ago suggested by Catlin,
    Schuyler and others, seems to offer the proper base of operations. We have
    already recommended charging consuls with viséing certificates from
    police, medical, and poor-relief authorities. We should further require
    that declarations of intention to migrate be published (somewhat as
    marriage banns are published) at local administrative centers
    (arrondissement, Bezirk, etc.) and at United States consular offices; the
    consular declaration should be obligatory; perhaps the other might be
    optional, though in all probability foreign governments would coöperate in
    demanding it. These validated declarations of intention should be filed in
    the consular offices. When notice comes from the United States Department
    of Labor that so many laborers will be admitted from such and such
    district, the declarations are to be taken up in the order of their
    filing, and the proper number of persons certified for admission. The
    apportionment of admissions from each country might be calculated on a
    basis of its population, also upon the nature of the employment offered,
    and upon the desirability of the alien himself, his general
    assimilability, his willingness to become naturalized, to adopt the
    English language and the American standard of living among efficient
    workers, etc.,–all as proved by past experience with his countrymen. This
    plan, in so far as it provides for a sliding scale of admissions, is in
    line with that proposed by Professor Gulick. He advocates making all
    nations eligible for admission and citizenship, but would admit them only
    in proportion as they can be readily assimilated. This would admit
    annually, say, five per cent of those already naturalized, with their
    American children. The principle here seems to be that we can assimilate
    from any land in, and only in, proportion to the number already
    assimilated from that land. But the difficulty of applying such a test
    lies in the complexity of the assimilative process. No measure yet exists
    for assimilation. Anthropologists are convinced that various strains in
    the populations, for example of France, or Great Britain, which have been
    dwelling together for centuries, are not by any means assimilated. Mere
    naturalization is not a sufficient test of assimilation; it is only the
    expression of a desire to be assimilated; and it may only be a device for
    the promotion of business success here or in foreign parts, as we have
    already indicated in the case of the Greeks. Hence in working out the
    basis of a sound immigration policy, it would seem more practicable to
    consider first the question of economic utilization rather than
    assimilation. This, of course, does not exclude from the Secretary of
    Labor's judgment the category of assimilability as one of the factors in
    determining the apportionment of admissions.