OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Ante-Nicene Fathers/Volume IV/Origen/Origen Against Celsus/Book VIII/Chapter LXVIII

Chapter LXVIII.
Celsus goes on to say: “We must not disobey the ancient writer, who said long ago, ‘Let one be king, whom the son of crafty Saturn appointed;’” and adds: “If you set aside this maxim, you will deservedly suffer for it at the hands of the king. For if all were to do the same as you, there would be nothing to prevent his being left in utter solitude and desertion, and the affairs of the earth would fall into the hands of the wildest and most lawless barbarians; and then there would no longer remain among men any of the glory of your religion or of the true wisdom.” If, then, “there shall be one lord, one king,” he must be, not the man “whom the son of crafty Saturn appointed,” but the man to whom He gave the power, who “removeth kings and setteth up kings,” and who “raiseth up the useful man in time of need upon earth.” For kings are not appointed by that son of Saturn, who, according to Grecian fable, hurled his father from his throne, and sent him down to Tartarus (whatever interpretation may be given to this allegory), but by God, who governs all things, and who wisely arranges whatever belongs to the appointment of kings. We therefore do set aside the maxim contained in the line,
“Whom the son of crafty Saturn appointed;”
for we know that no god or father of a god ever devises anything crooked or crafty. But we are far from setting aside the notion of a providence, and of things happening directly or indirectly through the agency of providence. And the king will not “inflict deserved punishment” upon us, if we say that not the son of crafty Saturn gave him his kingdom, but He who “removeth and setteth up kings.” And would that all were to follow my example in rejecting the maxim of Homer, maintaining the divine origin of the kingdom, and observing the precept to honour the king! In these circumstances the king will not “be left in utter solitude and desertion,” neither will “the affairs of the world fall into the hands of the most impious and wild barbarians.” For if, in the words of Celsus, “they do as I do,” then it is evident that even the barbarians, when they yield obedience to the word of God, will become most obedient to the law, and most humane; and every form of worship will be destroyed except the religion of Christ, which will alone prevail. And indeed it will one day triumph, as its principles take possession of the minds of men more and more every day.
* ↑ Homer’s Iliad, ii. 205.
* ↑ Dan. ii. 21.
* ↑ Ecclus. x. 4. (LXX.).
# Ante-Nicene Fathers/Volume IV/Origen/Origen Against Celsus/Book VIII/Chapter LXX

Chapter LXX.
But if all the Romans, according to the supposition of Celsus, embrace the Christian faith, they will, when they pray, overcome their enemies; or rather, they will not war at all, being guarded by that divine power which promised to save five entire cities for the sake of fifty just persons. For men of God are assuredly the salt of the earth: they preserve the order of the world; and society is held together as long as the salt is uncorrupted: for “if the salt have lost its savour, it is neither fit for the land nor for the dunghill; but it shall be cast out, and trodden under foot of men. He that hath ears, let him hear” the meaning of these words. When God gives to the tempter permission to persecute us, then we suffer persecution; and when God wishes us to be free from suffering, even in the midst of a world that hates us, we enjoy a wonderful peace, trusting in the protection of Him who said, “Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” And truly He has overcome the world. Wherefore the world prevails only so long as it is the pleasure of Him who received from the Father power to overcome the world; and from His victory we take courage. Should He even wish us again to contend and struggle for our religion, let the enemy come against us, and we will say to them, “I can do all things, through Christ Jesus our Lord, which strengtheneth me.” For of “two sparrows which are sold for a farthing,” as the Scripture says, “not one of them falls on the ground without our Father in heaven.” And so completely does the Divine Providence embrace all things, that not even the hairs of our head fail to be numbered by Him.
* ↑ [Comp. Cowper, Task, book vi., sub finem.]
* ↑ Luke xiv. 34, 35; Matt. v. 13.
* ↑ John xvi. 33.
* ↑ Phil. iv. 13.
* ↑ Matt. x. 29, 30.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 18

Before dusk the children came to know that both Mahatma Satya and Mahendra were taken prisoners in the city jail. Slowly they gathered in hundreds, until they filled the forests around the ashram of Mother India. The fire of anger was in their eyes, and the passion of stern determination on their lips; and one could hear brave words of revenge from their mouths. Soon thousands of Children had assembled. At the gate of the main building, Jiban appeared, sword in hand, and thus spoke aloud: Tor a long time we have been thinking of destroying with root and branch the British rule in India, and then of drowning it in the depths of the seas, and thus purifying Mother India from the pollution of this alien domination. Brothers, that day is here today! Our leader, Mahatma Satya is of infinite wisdom. He is pure. He is a humanitarian. He is a patriot. We all follow his leadership. We all love him. And today he languishes as a prisoner in a British jail! Have our swords grown rusty? Have we no strength left in our hearts? Have we no courage in our hearts? Brothers, sing Bande Mataram — Bande Mataram — Bande Mataram.
'Let us now get together to crush the British rule in India under our feet. Let us burn their sceptre into ashes, and then scatter the ashes to the winds. Brothers, sing Bande Mataram again!'
Instantly the entire forest shook with the chant of Bande Mataram. Thousands of swords cried out for the enemy's blood. Thousands of spears lifted their defiant heads to the skies. The noise of the arms was as the roar of thunder. The drums struck the Bande Mataram. The noise grew so intense that many a bird and animal left the jungle. The flying birds covered the skies and filled the air with their fearful cries. Again hundreds of drums began to roar. Then the Children, chanting the Bande Mataram, emerged from the woods in files. In the darkness of the night they began to march towards the city in firm, dignified step.
They reached the city only to disrupt it. At the sudden and unexpected attack the citizens became panic-stricken and ran in all directions. The police lost their wits and were paralysed by terror.
First of all, the Children attacked the city jail, killing the guards and triumphantly freeing the Mahatma and Mahendra. They carried the two released men on their shoulders in a delirium of happiness, dancing and shouting Bande Mataram to shake the city to its very foundations. Then they attacked and burnt the homes of Englishmen wherever they found them. But Mahatma Satya commanded that there should not be unnecessary destruction of life and property.
The British were aghast at this attack on the city, and at once dispatched a contingent of provincial sepoys to suppress the rebels. In addition rifles, the sepoys had a cannon with them. At the news of their advance, the Children again emerged ready for battle from the jungles around the ashram of Mother India. But how could their lathis, spears and rifles cope with British cannon? The Children were defeated.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 7

Mahendra soon discovered that it would do him no good to stay on at the inn, wrapped in idle thoughts and apprehensions. He decided to go into the town, and from there to search for his wife and child with the help of government officials. He had not gone far when he found a bullock-cart trudging along with a heavy guard of sepoys of the British army of occupation.
The British had long been expert in collecting revenue. At different centres they had their collectors who realised taxes and revenues to be shipped to the treasury of the East India Company in Calcutta. Thousands of men, women and children might die of starvation; yet there must be no cessation in the collection of taxes. This years collection, however, fell short of expectations. If mother earth refused to yield wealth, humans could not create it. All that could be collected, however, was being shipped at once to the British treasuries in Calcutta.
In those days robberies were so prevalent that the bullock-carts bearing the tax money were guarded by fifty fully armed sepoys with bayonets drawn. Their captain was an Englishman, who rode a horse in the rear. During the daytime the heat was so great that the sepoys were forced to travel by night. Confronted with this procession of the tax-cart and its guards, Mahendra stepped aside. The sepoys spotted him. Realising that it was not the time for quarrels, Mahendra moved to the edge of the jungle.
'Look, there goes a robber!' said a sepoy. When the sepoy saw the rifle in Mahendras hands, he was all the more convinced of this. He rushed towards Mahendra, shook him by the shoulders, called him thief, struck him and snatched the rifle away from him. Mahendra, furious with anger, returned a mighty blow. The sepoy reeled under Mahendras blow and fell unconscious on the road. Three others then grabbed Mahendra, and dragged him forcibly to the English captain, alleging that he had killed a soldier with one blow. The English captain was smoking his pipe, and under the influence of liquor. He said stupidly: 'Catch that villain and marry him.'
The sepoys could not understand. How could they marry a male armed robber! They hoped the captain would, of course, change his order when he became sober. So they tied Mahendra's hands and feet and placed him on the bullock-cart. Mahendra knew it was useless to exert his strength against such odds. And again, what would he gain by freedom? He was so sad at his separation from his wife and child that he cherished no desire to prolong his life. The sepoys tied Mahendra well and routinely proceeded along the road as before.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 6

It was late and the moon shone high in the sky. It was not a full moon; so it was not bright. Light, however, had fallen on the vast meadow making a shadow of the darkness. In such a light you could not see the borders of the meadow. Nor could you see what rested there. It was the very abode of fearful, endless loneliness. The highway to Calcutta and Murshidabad passed through it. Nearby was a little hill covered with mango and other trees. The tree-tops swung to and fro, bright in the moonbeams and their shadows danced joyously on the dark stones below. Mahatma Satya climbed to the top of the hill and became absorbed, intently listening. The broad meadow was almost soundless. Only now and then could you hear the whisper of leaves.
At a certain point a vast jungle touched the hill. The hill stood at the top; the highway at the bottom; and the jungle in between. A little noise mingled with the murmur of the trees. No one could know the nature of the noise. Satya walked in the direction of the murmur and entered the jungle. There he found rows of men seated amid the dark shadows of the trees. The men were tall and armed. Here and there their polished equipment shone brightly in the moonlight that filtered through the openings between the branches. Two hundred men were sitting in perfect silence. Satya walked gently into their midst and made a sign. No one rose and no one uttered a word. Past the files of men he walked, looking at each face. He seemed to be searching for someone. At last he found the man he sought and touched his body by way of command. The man at once stood up. Satya took him aside.
This man was young, his face covered with a black beard and moustache. He was strong and handsome, dressed in yellow, the holy colour, his body anointed with sacramental sandal paste.
'Bhavan,' asked Satya, 'have you any information about Mahendra Singh?'
'Mahendra Singh,' replied Bhavan, 'left his home this morning with his wife and child; and on their way to the inn —.'
‘I know what happened at the inn. Who did that?'
'Perhaps the farmers of the village. Hunger has driven farmers into robbery. These days, who is not a robber? We ourselves robbed to eat today. We deprived the British chief of police of his two maunds of rice for our meal.'
'I have rescued Mahendra's wife and child,' said Satya smiling, 'from the hands of the hungry farmers. I have left them at the ashram. Now, I assign you to find Mahendra Singh for his wife and child. Jiban alone will be able to take care of the duties here and win success.'
Bhavan agreed to undertake the duty. Mahatma Satya departed.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 9

During the fray Mahendra had leaped from the cart, snatched a sword from a sepoy, and was getting ready to attack his captors. But at second thought he felt convinced that these new people were really robbers. They had attacked the sepoys only for money. So he stepped aside, feeling that if he helped the robbers in any way he would have to bear a share of the sin of this hold-up. When the fight was over, he threw the sword aside, and began slowly to walk away. It was then that Bhavan walked towards him, and stood close to him.
'Gentleman, sir, may I know who you are?' Mahendra inquired.
'It is not necessary for you to know that.'
'Yes, I need to know it. I am greatly indebted to you today.'
'I did not realise that you had that much sense in you,' the other replied. 'During the fight you stood aloof with a sword in your hand. You are a wealthy zamindar. In consuming lavish dishes for breakfast, luncheon and dinner you are second to none. Yet when it comes to doing something useful, you are nothing better than a baboon.'
'You were engaged in sin,' Mahendra said contemptuously. 'This was robbery, pure and simple!'
'It might be robbery. But you cannot deny the fact that we did some good to you and may render further favours.'
'Yes, you have indeed done some good to me. But what more can you do for me? And again, it is certainly correct behaviour not to accept favours from robbers.'
'It rests with you to accept or to reject favours from us! But you may come with me if you so desire. I want you to meet your wife and child again.'
'What did I hear you say?' Mahendra inquired, quite surprised.
Bhavan said no more, but started walking. Mahendra, of course, followed him while he thought within himself: 'These are strange robbers indeed!'
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 2

In the gloomy and empty house Kalyani was alone with her daughter. She was afraid. There was no human soul nearby. She could hear only the cries of dogs and jackals and she felt she had made a grave mistake in allowing her husband to leave her. It would have been so much better, she thought, if she had only endured the pangs of hunger and thirst a little longer. She thought of closing the doors of the house, but discovered that the doors and the latches were all missing. Then as she was examining the doorway, she saw something like a shadow in front of it. It had human form, but did not look like a human being. This frightful shadow of a man that stood at the door was dark and emaciated, and all but naked.
In an instant the shadow lifted its hand, and with skeletons of long fingers signalled someone towards it. Kalyani was terror-stricken. Another shadow stood beside the first, then another and then yet another. In a few moments a crowd of countless shadows silently entered the room. The dark room was as terrifying as a graveyard at night as these ghosts of human beings surrounded Kalyani and her child — the mother almost fainting — and carried them out of the house, across a meadow and into the jungle.
Mahendra, returning to the house after a short while with a pitcher of milk, found no one there. Searching desperately for his wife and child, he found no trace of them. He called the names of his daughter and wife, but no one responded.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 3

It was a delightful part of the jungle where the robbers brought Kalyani. But it was dark, and there were no eyes trained enough to appreciate its physical beauty. Like the nobility of a poor man's heart, the forest was beautiful sans appreciation. The entire countryside was starving, yet here were flowers whose fragrance lightened the darkness. The robbers having put Kalyani and her child on a clean plot of ground covered with flowers, sat in a circle around their victims. Soon they became involved in a heated discussion of how to dispose of the woman and her child. They had already taken possession of Kalyani s jewellery and one group was busy dealing out the ornaments. When the distribution was over, one man barked: 'What can we do with gold and silver? Will someone here give me a handful of rice for this jewel? I am hungry — I'm about to die of hunger! For the last few days I have eaten only leaves from the trees.'
'Rice, give us rice,' shouted another, 'We are all about to die of hunger. Give us rice, rice! We don't want gold or silver or precious stones. Give us rice, rice!'
The leader of the robbers tried to stop them from shouting, but without success. Louder and louder they talked in abusive language.
Soon they were about to come to blows. Angrily they pelted the leader with the jewels.
The leader fought them, until they all attacked him together and mercilessly beat him. He was so weak and so emaciated with hunger that struck by a few blows he fell to the ground and died. Then one of the hungry men cried angrily: 'We have been forced to eat the meat of jackals and dogs. Now lest we die of starvation, comrades, let us eat this man.'
The entire band shouted with approval. One man began to prepare a fire for the feast. He gathered dry creepers, wood and straw, and lighted a flame with flint. Soon the growing fire revealed the green branches and the foliage of the surrounding trees — mango, palm, tamarind and date. The leaves looked almost ablaze with light; the grass became radiant; in the far corner the darkness by contrast appeared darker. The fire was ready. One of the crowd, dragging the dead body by its feet, was about to throw it into the hungry flames when another member of the group shouted: 'Wait, wait a minute! We have decided to live today by eating human flesh. Why eat the dried flesh of this old man? Let us eat the flesh of those we have brought here today. Let us roast the young woman and her baby. Lets eat their tender meat.'
'Roast anything,' shouted a third, 'whatever you want, but be quick about it — I cannot stand this hunger any longer.'
They all shouted joyously at this happy idea and looked eagerly at the spot where Kalyani had been lying with her daughter. But lo! the spot was empty. Neither the mother nor the daughter was there.
Taking advantage of the quarrel, Kalyani had run away further into the jungle. Infuriated with the escape of their victims the ghostly men shouted furiously, 'Catch! Catch! — Kill! Kill!' They scattered into the jungle in search of the mother and the child.
# Anandamath (Dawn over India)/Part 1/Chapter 4

Kalyani could not find her way in the darkness. The trees, the creepers and the thorns were so thick that she could make little headway. Yet she must escape. Through the crowds of the trees and thorny bushes she waded to get further and further away from the hungry mob. Now and then the child's body, in spite of all the mother's care, was lacerated by thorns. The child cried. The cry attracted the pursuers and they cried aloud for vengeance. Bleeding and exhausted Kalyani staggered on into the jungle. After a while the moon rose dispelling the darkness. Kalyani was hopeful that the robbers would not find her in the dark; that they would search for a while and then stop. But with the rising of the moon even that ray of hope vanished. With all its glory the moonlight flooded the forest. The darkness in the heart of the jungle lost some of its intensity, and now and then rays of light began to peep through the openings between the leaves. The higher the moon rose in the sky, the more light penetrated the jungle; and the darkness retreated further and further into the depth of the forest. In her constant effort to hide herself and her child, Kalyani moved always towards the shades of darkness.
Disappointed, the pursuers became furious with anger. They shouted louder and louder, and enclosed on Kalyani from all sides. The frightened child cried loudly. Kalyani, feeling herself trapped, ceased her efforts to escape. She sat down on a thornless plot of green, velvety ground under a huge tree. With the child on her lap she prayed: 'My God, O my God, I worship Thee everyday. I bow to Thee everyday. It was my faith in Thee that enabled me to enter this jungle with my child. Where, where art Thou now?'
Her resignation crushed the feeling of hunger, thirst and fear in her. She was as if in a trance. She awakened from it into a realm of luminous inner consciousness, and in that state she heard a singer chant divinely:
'God is great, God is great; Take refuge in God; in God alone.'
This heavenly music seemed coming slowly nearer and nearer. At last it paused when it reached right over her head. Kalyani opened her eyes to see a Mahatma with long white hair and beard, dressed in pure white. She was moved by the sanctity and serenity of this holy man. In her effort to bow at his feet, she fainted and fell to the ground.
# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Adams, Frederick Whiting

Edition of 1900.
​ADAMS, Frederick Whiting, musician, b. in Pawlet, Vt., in 1786; d. in Montpelier, Vt., 17 Dec., 1858. He was a good performer on the violin, and early turned his attention to violin-making. He conceived the opinion that the superior tones of the Amati and Stradivarius instruments were due to their having been made of old and seasoned wood, and accordingly he searched the forests of northern Vermont and Canada for maple and pine, taking his wood from partially decayed trees, and constructed 140 violins, some of which were remarkable for their powerful and sweet tones. He was the author of “Theological Criticisms” (Montpelier, 1843).
# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Adams, James Hopkins

Edition of 1900.
​ADAMS, James Hopkins, statesman, b. in South Carolina about 1811; d. near Columbia, S. C., 27 July, 1861. He was graduated at Yale in 1831. In 1832, during the “nullification” excitement, he strongly opposed the nullifiers in the legislature. After serving in the state senate for several sessions, he was elected governor for the term of 1855-'57. He was one of the state commissioners that were chosen, after the ordinance of secession was passed, to treat with the president concerning the disposition of United States property in South Carolina.
# Appletons' Cyclopædia of American Biography/Adams, Jasper

Edition of 1900.
​ADAMS, Jasper, educator, b. in Medway, Mass., 27 Aug., 1793; d. in Charleston, S. C, 25 Oct., 1841. He was graduated at Brown university in 1815, and studied theology at Andover. In 1819 he was chosen professor of mathematics at Brown university, and during the same year was ordained in the Protestant Episcopal church. He became president of the college of Charleston in 1824, and of Geneva, N. Y. (now Hobart) college in 1826. Again, from 1828 to 1836, he was in charge of the college of Charleston. He was chaplain and professor of geography, history, and ethics at West Point from 1888 to 1840, and subsequently was in charge of a seminary at Pendleton, S. C. He published sermons and addresses, and a "Moral Philosophy" (New York, 1838).