OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Letters of Junius/Letter VI

LETTER VI.
TO JUNIUS.
27. February, 1769.
SIR,
I HAVE a very short answer for Junius's important question: I do not either take an oath, or declare upon honour, that I have no place of profit, civil or military, when I receive the half-pay as an Irish colonel. My most gracious sovereign gives it me as a pension; he was pleased to think I deserved it. The annuity of 200l. Irish, and the equivalent for the half-pay together, produce no more than 380l. per annum. clear of fees and perquisites of office. I receive 167l. from my government of Yarmouth. Total, 547l. per annum. My conscience is much at ease in these particulars; my friends need not blush for me.
Junius makes much and frequent use of interrogations: they are arms that may be easily turned against himself. I could, by malicious interrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtuous man in the kingdom. I could take the decalogue, and say to one ​man, Did you never steal? To the next, Did you never commit murder? And to Junius himself, who is putting my life and conduct to the rack, Did you never bear false witness against thy neighbour? Junius must easily see, that unless he affirms to the contrary in his real name, some people, who may be as ignorant of him as I am, will be apt to suspect him of having deviated a little from the truth: therefore let Junius ask no more questions. You bite against a file: cease viper.
WILLIAM DRAPER
# Letters of Junius/Letter LXV

LETTER LXV.
TO LORD CHIEF JUSTICE MANSFIELD.
2. November, 1771.
At the intercession of three of your countrymen, you have bailed a man, who, I presume, is also a Scotchman, and whom the Lord Mayor of London had refused to bail. I do not mean to enter into an examination of the partial, sinister motives of your ​conduct; but, confining myself strictly to the fact, I affirm, that you have done that, which, by law, you were not warranted to do. The thief was taken in the theft;—the stolen goods were found upon him, and he made no defence. In these circumstances (the truth of which you dare not deny, because it is of public notoriety) it could not stand indifferent, whether he was guilty or not, much less could there be any presumption of his innocence; and, in these circumstances, I affirm, in contradiction to YOU, Lord Chief Justice Mansfield, that, by the laws of England, he was not bailable. If ever Mr. Eyre should be brought to trial, we shall hear what you have to say for Yourself; and I pledge myself, before God and my country, in proper time and place, to make good my charge against you.
JUNIUS.
# Letters of Junius/Letter LXVI

LETTER LXVI.
TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.
9. November. 1771.
Junius engages to make good his charge against Lord Chief Justice Mansfield, some time before the meeting of parliament, in order that the house of commons may, if they think proper, make it one article in the impeachment of the said Lord Chief Justice.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 127/Issue 1634/A Song of Summer

* A SONG OF SUMMER.
* "Always in your darkest hours strive to remember your brightest." — J. P. Richter.
* Sing me a song of Summer,
* For my heart is wintry sad.
* That glorious, bright new-comer,
* Who makes all nature glad!
* Sing me a song of Summer,
* That the dark from the bright may borrow,
* And the part in the radiant whole of things
* May drown its little sorrow!
* Sing me a song of Summer,
* When God walks forth in light,
* And spreads his glowing mantle
* O'er the blank and the grey of the night;
* And where he comes, his quickening touch
* Revives the insensate dead.
* And the numbed and frozen pulse of things
* Beats music to his tread.
* Sing me a song of Summer,
* With his banners of golden bloom,
* That glorious, bright new-comer.
* Who bears bleak winter's doom!
* With banners of gold and of silver.
* And wings of rosy display.
* And verdurous power in his path.
* When he comes in the pride of the May.
* When he comes with his genial sweep
* O'er the barren and bare of the scene,
* And makes the stiff earth to wave
* With an ocean of undulant green;
* With flourish of leafy expansion.
* And boast of luxuriant bloom,
* And the revel of life as it triumphs
* O'er the dust and decay of the tomb.
* Sing me a song of Summer;
* O God! what a glorious thing
* Is the march of this mighty new-comer
* With splendour of joy on his wing!
* When he quickens the pulse of creation.
* And maketh all feebleness strong.
* Till it spread into blossoms of beauty.
* And burst into paeans of song!
* Sing me a song of Summer!
* Though my heart be wintry and sad,
* The thought of this blessed new-comer
* Shall foster the germ of the glad.
* 'Neath the veil of my grief let me cherish
* The joy that shall rush into day.
* When the bane of the winter shall perish
* In the pride and the power of the May.
* John Stuart Blackie
* Good Words.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 127/Issue 1634

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XII. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1634. — October 2, 1875. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXVII. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | Ocean-Circulation. Researches in the "Challenger" and "Tuscarora." By Dr. W. B. Carpenter, | Contemporary Review, | 3 |
| II. | The Dilemma. Part IX., | Blackwood's Magazine, | 17 |
| III. | The Planets put in Leverrier's Balance, | Cornhill Magazine, | 27 |
| IV. | Her Dearest Foe. By the author of "The Wooing O't." Part II., | Temple Bar, | 36 |
| V. | Richard Baxter. By Dean Stanley, | Macmillan's Magazine, | 46 |
| VI. | The Clockmakers of the Schwarzwald, | Spectator, | 56 |
| VII. | Country Towns, | Saturday Review, | 58 |
| VIII. | Character Connoisseurs, | Saturday Review, | 60 |
| IX. | Amber, | Cope's Tobacco Plant, | 63 |
POETRY. :
| The Children's Bed-time, | 2 | A Song of Summer, | 2 |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 126/Issue 1633

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XI. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1633. — September 25, 1875. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXVI. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | Natural Religion, | Macmillan's Magazine, | 771 |
| II. | F'rona! | Temple Bar, | 788 |
| III. | The Days of Henri Quatre, | Temple Bar, | 796 |
| IV. | Her Dearest Foe, | Temple Bar, | 808 |
| V. | The Royal School of Art-Needlework, | All The Year Round, | 819 |
| VI. | The Influence of Arctic Cold on Man, | London Medical Record, | 823 |
| | ⁂ Title and Index to Volume CXXVI. | | |
POETRY. :
| Song of a Fellow-Worker, | Song of a Fellow-Worker, | Song of a Fellow-Worker, | 770 |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/Hymn

* HYMN.
* Written for the opening of the International Exhibition
* at Philadelphia, May 10th, 1876.
* 1.
* Our father's God! from out whose hand
* The centuries fall like grains of sand,
* We meet to-day, united, free,
* And loyal to our land and Thee,
* To thank Thee for the era done,
* And trust Thee for the opening one.
* 2.
* Here, where of old, by Thy design,
* Our fathers spake that word of Thine,
* Whose echo is the glad refrain
* Of rended bolt and falling chain,
* To grace our festal time from all
* The zones of earth our guests we call.
* 3.
* Be with us while the New World greets
* The Old World thronging all its streets,
* Unveiling all the triumphs won
* By art or toil beneath the sun;
* And unto common good ordain
* This rivalship of hand and brain.
* 4.
* Thou who hast here in concord furled
* The war-flags of a gathered world,
* Beneath our Western skies fulfil
* The Orient's mission of good-will,
* And, freighted with love's Golden Fleece,
* Send back its Argonauts of peace.
* 5.
* For art and labor met in truce,
* For beauty made the bride of use,
* We thank Thee; but, withal, we crave
* The austere virtues, strong to save,
* The honor proof to place or gold,
* The manhood, never bought or sold.
* 6.
* Oh make Thou us through centuries long,
* In peace secure, in justice strong;
* Around our gift of freedom draw
* The safeguards of Thy righteous law;
* And, cast in some diviner mould,
* Let the new cycle shame the old.
* J. G. Whittier.
* Atlantic Monthly.
* (These beautiful lines are already known by heart,
* but we cannot refrain from recording them here. —
* Living Age.)
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/The Empty Place

* THE EMPTY PLACE.
* Bright faces come and go, fair shapes
* Dance up and down the wall;
* A presence in the crowded room
* Takes precedence of all.
* We see it night and day, howe'er
* By shine or shadow crost, —
* A little vacant spot, wherefrom
* One little face is lost.
* The sound of music swells and falls,
* And laughter fills our ears, —
* A silence, hollowed out of life,
* Is all our spirit hears.
* That silence, like a hush of prayer,
* Can drown the loudest speech,
* And, piercing sharp through laugh and song,
* Our inmost sense can reach.
* No thunder of the outer world,
* No burning rage of pain,
* No passion-storms of love or grief
* That beat on heart and brain,
* Beat down with such constraining strength
* The vital forces there,
* As that dull, soundless ache of loss
* Which lonely mourners bear.
* O little garments in the drawer,
* With such precision spread!
* O little chair against the wall!
* O little cradle-bed,
* Uncurtained, in the silent room,
* And pillowless and cold!
* O mother's arms and tender hands,
* That have no babe to hold!
* We know full well the worth and wealth
* Of which we are bereft;
* But where are words wherewith to tell
* The emptiness that's left! —
* Wherewith to span that shoreless void,
* Sound its unfathomed deeps,
* And picture to the common sense
* The sacred thing it keeps.
* Ada Cambridge.
* Sunday Magazine.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/The Junta

* THE JUNTA.
* The Junta together their heads were laying,
* And North in a flourish his parts was displaying;
* A placeman steps in, cries, "The rebels are beat,
* Philadelphia's our own and the whole's at our feet."
* Derry down.
* Lord North looked around with a delicate smile,
* And cried "I still knew we the rebels should foil;
* Now Vengeance we'll deck like some being divine,
* And Jack Ketch's labors in future shall shine."
* Derry down.
* The cannons did thunder, the bells sweetly chime,
* When a captain arrived whom they called Propenheim.
* "What news?" said the Junta, "we know it is good,
* The rebels are wholly and solely subdued."
* Derry down.
* "My lords," said the captain, "I dare not amuse,
* For I am the messenger of dismal news;
* The tide of our fortune is stopped in its course,
* And Burgoyne is a prisoner with all his whole force."
* Derry down.
* As when dreadful lightnings in flashes do fly,
* And level some wretch in the twink of an eye,
* The Junta received a similar shock,
* And screamed, "Lord, deliver our heads from the block!"
* Derry down.
* For some time they hung in this dreadful suspense,
* Not daring to make or defer a defence,
* When from Philadelphia Cornwallis arrived,
* On hearing which tidings their hopes were revived.
* Derry down.
* Without hesitation they hasted away
* As swift as a hawk in pursuit of his prey;
* "Have you any good tidings, my lord, tell us quick,
* That will cheer up our spirits, for faith we are sick."
* Derry down.
* His lordship then sighed and cried, "Alas!
* Our matters are brought to a terrible pass;
* Besieged by the rebels, quite chagrined and grieved,
* Poor Howe must soon fly if not quickly relieved."
* Derry down.
* The Junta were struck with this dreary relation,
* And cried out, "Poor Britain's a ruined nation;
* Her finances sunk and her measures all crossed,
* No sums can be borrowed and all must be lost."
* Derry down.
* "Some comfort, however, presents to our view,
* Our faithful Canadians will ever prove true;
* We'll prove from that quarter a thorn in their side,
* We'll stop their career and we'll humble their pride."
* Derry down.
* Soon after, a vessel arrived on the coast,
* With tidings that Canada also was lost,
* Had risen, revolted, laid siege to Quebec,
* Which news put each villain in pain for his neck,
* Derry down.
* Now, Britons, your rights and your famed Magna Charta
* Must end in a smoke like a loud Magna
* Your talents, messieurs, directed by Bute,
* Have rendered our sovereign quite absolute.
* Derry down.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/The Queen's Lamentation

* THE QUEEN'S LAMENTATION.
* 1.
* Beneath a verdant, shady bower,
* Adorned with many a fragrant flower,
* Britannia's queen sat pensively,
* Lamenting her sad destiny.
* 2.
* Her numerous offspring round her throng
* Attentive to her plaintive song,
* When thus her Majesty begun,
* "My dearest babes, we are undone.
* 3.
* "For I on every side can see
* Nought but impending misery;
* With reason, then, I curse the day
* I was advanced to regal sway.
* 4.
* "In Mecklenburg, my native soil,
* Ere that I knew this cursed isle,
* I roved a virgin princess bright,
* And revelled in unmixed delight.
* 5.
* "But when demanded by your sire
* Ye gods! my soul was all on fire;
* My fancy roved from scene to scene,
* In prospect mighty Britain's queen.
* 6.
* "Revolving years rolled smoothly on,
* Nor had a thorn yet pierced my crown;
* One round of pleasure and delight,
* Adorned by day and crowned by night.
* 7.
* "But when your father did advise
* With your great grandsire's enemies,
* A gloomy cloud hung o'er my head,
* And filled me with eternal dread.
* 8.
* "With prayers and tears I often strove
* The sad occasion to remove,
* I often did my Lord implore
* To grant a peace to yonder shore.
* 9.
* "But those pernicious vermin still
* Did urge him on from ill to ill;
* And by their craft conducted so
* As proves Great Britain's overthrow.
* 10.
* "Those rebels, though they bear the name,
* 'Tis we, not they, sure, are to blame,
* Have acted with such dignity,
* Are surely worthy to live free.
* 11.
* "I trembling sit upon my throne,
* I cannot wear this mangled crown.
* See how it trembles on my head!
* I wish, my babes, that we were dead!
* 12.
* "Oh, were my head a flood of tears,
* That I might wash away my fears,
* And mitigate my inward dread;
* Alas! I wish that we were dead."
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.
| Fifth Series, Volume XIV. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | No. 1671. — June 17, 1876. | $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | From Beginning Vol. CXXIX. |
CONTENTS. :
| I. | Clarendon, | Contemporary Review, | 707 |
| II. | Whittlebridge. Part II., | Blackwood's Magazine, | 722 |
| III. | Spelling, | Cornhill Magazine, | 730 |
| IV. | For Pity's Sake. By the author of "Robert Holt's Illusion," etc. Part II., | Sunday Magazine, | 739 |
| V. | Social, Representative, and Rambling Plants, | Macmillan's Magazine, | 748 |
| VI. | Janet Mason's Troubles. A Story of Town and Country. Part II., | Sunday Magazine, | 753 |
| VII. | Coca, | Chambers' Journal, | 764 |
POETRY. :
| Hymn, | 706 | Revolutionary Ballads, | |
| Winter Song, | 706 | General Wolfe, | 766 |
| The Empty Place, | 706 | Montgomery, | 766 |
| | | The Queen's Lamentation, | 767 |
| | | Vain Britons, boast no longer, | 767 |
| | | The Junta, | 768 |
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/Vain Britons, boast no longer

* Vain Britons, boast no longer, with proud indignity,
* By land your conquering legions, your matchless strength by sea;
* Since we, your braver sons in truth, our swords have girded on,
* Huzza! huzza! huzza! huzza! for war and Washington.
* Urged on by North and vengeance, your valiant champions come,
* Loud bellowing, tea and treason, and George was all your theme;
* But, sacrilegious as it seems, we rebels still live on,
* And laugh at all your empty puffs, huzza for Washington!
* Still deaf to mild entreaty, still blind to England's good,
* You have, for thirty pieces, sold your country's blood;
* Like Æsop's greedy cur, you'll find a shadow for your bone,
* You'll find no fearless shades indeed, inspired by Washington.
* Mysterious, unexampled, incomprehensible,
* The blundering schemes of Britain, your folly, pride, and zeal;
* Like lions though you growl and fight, mere asses you have shown,
* Then you shall share the asses' fate, and drudge for Washington.
* Should George, to succor Britain, to foreign realms apply,
* And madly arm half Europe, yet still we would defy
* Turk, Russian, Jew, and Infidel, and all those powers in one
* While Hancock crowns our Senate, our camp, great Washington.
* Yet think not thirst of glory unsheathes our vengeful swords
* To rend our bonds asunder and cast away our cords;
* 'Tis heaven-born freedom fires us now, and strengthens each brave son,
* From him who lowly guides the plough to godlike Washington.
* Should warlike weapons fail us, disdaining slavish fears,
* To swords we'll turn our ploughshares, our pruning-hooks to spears;
* And rush all desp'rate on the foe, nor breathe till battle's won,
* And shout and shout, America, and conquering Washington!
* Fired with the great idea, our fathers' shades shall rise,
* To view the stern contention the gods forsake the skies;
* And Wolfe, 'mid hosts of heroes superior bending down,
* Cry out with ardor for the cause, "Well done, brave Washington!"
* Proud France may view with terror, and haughty Spain may fear,
* Whilst every warlike nation shall court alliance here;
* And George's minions humbling down dismount him from his throne,
* Pay homage to America and conquering Washington!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/Montgomery

* MONTGOMERY.
* 1.
* Ye powers of melody,
* Aid me while I try
* To sing the great Montgomery;
* For I mean to tell
* How the hero fell,
* Contending for his country's liberty.
* 2.
* When Britain's tyrant first,
* By an ill counsel curst,
* Resolved our country to enslave,
* That great, that gallant chief
* Flew to our relief,
* Determined to oppose the haughty knave.
* 3.
* Through winter's snow and frost,
* Abraham's Plains he crost,
* Took Fort St. John, Montreal, Chambly,
* Then hastened to Quebec,
* Which he did attack,
* There fell the great, the brave Montgomery.
* 4.
* "See, brave Americans,
* There the city stands,
* To storm it I have laid the plan;
* Let ladders then be placed,
* To yon walls in haste,
* Your general, my boys, will lead the van."
* 5.
* Then o'er the walls he flew,
* Quebec to subdue,
* Regardless of his destiny;
* But ah! unhappy fate,
* Painful to relate,
* There fell the brave, the great Montgomery.
* 6.
* The generous Carleton then,
* Called unto his men,
* "My boys! my boys! Forbear! forbear!
* The great Montgomery,
* See where he does lie!"
* Then o'er his corse he dropt a silent tear.
* 7.
* O, Carleton, may thy name
* Live in endless fame,
* Thou great, thou gallant enemy!
* Of chiefs for Britain's crown,
* Carleton, thou alone
* Art blessed with honor and humility.
* 8.
* Thou and Montgomery
* When both souls are free,
* Shall meet on the celestial plain,
* And, though foes below,
* There no rancour know
* But ever and together live and reign.
* 9.
* America, thy loss
* Is a dreadful cross,
* Montgomery, the great, the good.
* But to expiate
* His untimely fate,
* Britannia, thou must yet shed tears of blood.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/General Wolfe

* GENERAL WOLFE.
* Come, all ye brave young men,
* Let nothing fright you;
* If they objection make,
* Let that delight you.
* Love, here's a ring of gold,
* Long time I've kept it;
* Love, here's a ring of gold,
* Will you accept it?
* When you the posy read,
* Think on the giver;
* Oh! do remember me,
* Or I'm undone forever.
* Now this brave hero, he
* Took to the ocean,
* To fight for liberty
* And his promotion.
* He landed at Quebec
* All in a line so pretty,
* On the Plains of Abraham,
* Just before the city.
* He landed at Quebec
* With all his party,
* The enemy to attack,
* Being both brave and hearty.
* "The victory we've won,
* With all the treasure."
* "Oh then," replied brave Wolfe,
* "I'll die with pleasure.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 129/Issue 1671/Winter Song

* WINTER SONG.
* (FROM THE JAPANESE.)
* Keen the wind from Fuji's height,
* Sweeping o'er the plain,
* Nips the leaves with iron might
* And drives the icy rain.
* Makes the brook a torrent run,
* Hides with flying clouds the sun,
* And howls a mad refrain.
* Weary lag the traveller's feet
* On the mountain way;
* Dark the path — the cruel sleet
* Dims the light of day.
* The village buried from his view,
* Where to his love he bade adieu,
* And heard her parting lay.
* O she must wait his coming long,
* As swallows wait the spring!
* Although her lips have framed the song
* To give him welcoming;
* High on the mountain-path the storm
* Has veiled in snow her lover's form,
* And she his dirge must sing.
* All The Year Round.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 144/Issue 1855/A Bishop's Tribute to his Mother

A Bishop's Tribute to his Mother
Distributing the prizes at the Keighley School of Science and Art on Wednesday, October 8, the Bishop of Manchester remarked that parents should not send their children out into the world too soon. His father, who had a very active mind, invested his means in the ironstone mines in the Forest of Dean. That investment turned out unfortunate, and his father died, he feared, a broken-hearted man. They were a family of seven, and he (the bishop) was then fourteen years of age. His mother was not clever, but she would have done anything she could for her children. She said, "I cannot give these lads large fortunes, but by denying myself and living quietly I can give them a good education." Three of his brothers went out to India — one fell in the Mutiny, and the other was now at the head of a department of public works in India, where he had a good situation and was doing a good work. They knew what he (the bishop) was. He ventured to say that, if all his brothers and sisters were alive, they would rise up and call their dear mother blessed for the sacrifices she made that they might have careers. By God's providence he had that mother still spared to him. She was now paralyzed, speechless, and helpless, but every day when he went into her bedroom and looked on her sweet face he thought gratefully of all he owed her, of what he was, and what he had been enabled to do.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 144/Issue 1855/All Through the Day

Originally published in Good Words.
All Through the Day
"Be the day never so long,  It ringeth at last unto even-song."  Queen Elizabeth's Book of Hours.
All through the day, my love, watching thine eye, Holding thy hand in mine, I will be nigh; I cannot cheer thee, love, yet will I stay; I will be near thee, love, all through the day.
All through the day, my love, seeking in vain Wings for the hours that pass weighted with pain; All things are drear to thee, nothing is gay; Yet I am dear to thee, so I will stay.
All through this day of ours, though it be long, Open for us no flowers, wakens no song; Reddens the autumn leaf, withers the rose, All through this way of ours, unto its close.
Worn is thy frame, my love, wan is thy cheek, Low are thine accents, and broken and weak, Yet sweet is our silence, the words that we say Are sweet, as I sit by thee all through the day.
All through the day, my love, all through the day, Steals the swift shadow on, life flits away; Soft will our sleep be then, happy and light, All through the night, my love, all through the night.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 143/Issue 1852/Summer Eve

Original German title: Dämmernd liegt der Sommerabend
Summer Eve
Dimly falls the summer even, Over forests and green meadows, Golden moon, through misty shadows, Beams down from the azure heaven.
By the brookside, with a shrillness, Chirps the cricket, and a flashing Of the waters, and a plashing, Greets the wanderer through the stillness.
Yonder where the waters shimmer, Bathes alone the elf-queen nightly Arm and shoulder, shining whitely, In the moonlight softly glimmer.