Towards the close of the tenth century the Frankish style of ornamentation, a blending of the classical and the Byzantine, had almost entirely superseded the beautiful and delicate Celtic art both in England and on the Continent, and about the fifteenth century it disappeared even from our own Ireland, the country of its origin. The gorgeous missals and illuminated Gospels, instinct with life, genius, holy reverence, and patient love, were destined to be replaced soon after by the dull mechanism of print; while Protestantism used all its new-found strength to destroy that innate tendency of our nature which seeks to manifest religious fervour, faith, and zeal by costly offerings and sacrifices. The golden-bordered holy books, the sculptured crosses, the jewelled shrines were crushed under the heel of Cromwell’s troopers; the majestic and beautiful abbeys were desecrated and cast down to ruin, while beside them rose the mean and ugly structures of the Reformed faith, as if the annihilation of all beauty were then considered to be the most acceptable homage which man could offer to the God who created all beauty, and fitted the human soul to enjoy and manifest the spiritual, mystic, and eternal loveliness of form, and colour, and symmetry.


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"Ahh, he could have beat Binny, giving me sole first. A Russian gangster!"

We were seated in a lonely place outside the town, overlooking the sea, and watched the lights below us gently rising and falling on the fishing-vessels and other craft at anchor, and marked among them the bright lanthorns of a man-of-war which topped all the others.

“What!” shouts Mr. James, “and me wid my grass cutting!”

“Certainly we did,” said the doctor dryly. “Every conceivable thing that could be done was tried.”

Thus it has happened in my own case also in some but not in many instances, in which I have had to express an opinion respecting the character of works which appeared after 1860, and which to some extent influenced my judgment on the years immediately preceding them. But this was from fifteen to eighteen years ago when I was working at my History. It might perhaps be expected that I should remove all such expressions of opinion from the work before it is translated. In some few cases, in which this could be effected by simply drawing the pen through a few lines, I have so done; but it appeared to me that to alter with anxious care every sentence which I should put into a different form at the present day would serve no good

The squads peeled off and double-timed down the Hot Gut. Man by man they dipped into the Wet Gut for their swim outside. They'd been drilled for speed in exiting. If the Regiment were needed outside, the Syphon could become a literal bottle-neck. As the last squad splashed into the antiseptic solution, Hartford turned to Colonel Nef. "Sir, I have a question," he said.


“Without a cork.”

scientific investigation, the better sort of literary work, and every occupation that involves the persistent free use of thought, must bring the mind more and more towards the definite recognition of our social incoherence and waste. But this by no means exhausts the professions that ought to have a distinct bias for Socialism. The engineer, the architect, the mechanical inventor, the industrial organizer, and every sort of maker must be at one in their desire for emancipation from servitude to the promoter, the trader, the lawyer, and the forestaller, from the perpetually recurring obstruction of the claim of the private proprietor to every large and hopeful enterprise, and ready to respond to the immense creative element in the Socialist idea. Only it is that creative element which has so far found least expression in Socialist literature, which appears neither in the “class war” literature of the working class Socialist nor the litigious, inspecting, fining, and regulating tracts and proposals of the administrative Socialist. To too many

1.But the local Thrid governor had spoken and said and observed that Ganti's wife wanted to enter his household. He added that Ganti wanted to yield her to him.

2.The Cross has gone round! Will a single man tarry



the proceedings during the trial, but also of the arrests that preceded it. It begins with the day New Madrid officials were notified that the Masons were seen at Little Prairie, thirty miles down the river. A clerk then, and every day thereafter, carefully noted what action had been taken by the pursuers and what evidence had been gathered against the suspects, and continued the record through all the other proceedings.


"Sorry," Retief said firmly. "My hay-fever, you know."


“Let him suffer,” said the youth indifferently. “If he wants her badly enough let him go to the Persian encampment and get her! He does not know nor do you, Icetes, what the result of tomorrow’s struggle will be. What if the enemy comes out victorious and the Persian leader carries the fair Ladice across the Hellespont? No doubt she has already yielded to his kisses and is beginning to enjoy the luxurious ease of an oriental harem. Women are—”


“Well, what of it?”

. . .