OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book VI/Chapter 13

Chapter XIII.—Being Urged by His Mother to Take a Wife, He Sought a Maiden that Was Pleasing Unto Him.
23. Active efforts were made to get me a wife. I wooed, I was engaged, my mother taking the greatest pains in the matter, that when I was once married, the health-giving baptism might cleanse me; for which she rejoiced that I was being daily fitted, remarking that her desires and Thy promises were being fulfilled in my faith. At which time, verily, both at my request and her own desire, with strong heartfelt cries did we daily beg of Thee that Thou wouldest by a vision disclose unto her something concerning my future marriage; but Thou wouldest not. She saw indeed certain vain and fantastic things, such as the earnestness of a human spirit, bent thereon, conjured up; and these she told me of, not with her usual confidence when Thou hadst shown her anything, but slighting them. For she could, she declared, through some feeling which she could not express in words, discern the difference betwixt Thy revelations and the dreams of her own spirit. Yet the affair was pressed on, and a maiden sued who wanted two years of the marriageable age; and, as she was pleasing, she was waited for.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume I/Confessions/Book VI/Chapter 15

Chapter XV.—He Dismisses One Mistress, and Chooses Another.
25. Meanwhile my sins were being multiplied, and my mistress being torn from my side as an impediment to my marriage, my heart, which clave to her, was racked, and wounded, and bleeding. And she went back to Africa, making a vow unto Thee never to know another man, leaving with me my natural son by her. But I, unhappy one, who could not imitate a woman, impatient of delay, since it was not until two years’ time I was to obtain her I sought,—being not so much a lover of marriage as a slave to lust,—procured another (not a wife, though), that so by the bondage of a lasting habit the disease of my soul might be nursed up, and kept up in its vigour, or even increased, into the kingdom of marriage. Nor was that wound of mine as yet cured which had been caused by the separation from my former mistress, but after inflammation and most acute anguish it mortified, and the pain became numbed, but more desperate.

## Footnotes

* ↑ In his De Natura Con. Manich. he has the same idea. He is speaking of the evil that has no pain, and remarks: “Likewise in the body, better is a wound with pain than putrefaction without pain, which is specially styled corruption;” and the same idea is embodied in the extract from Caird’s Sermons, on p. 5, note 7.
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On an Infant

ON AN INFANT,
WHOSE COUNTENANCE DISCOVERED UNCOMMON TRACES OF THOUGHT.
SAY, on that brow with beauty fraught,
 What hand has mark'd so deep a trace,
And given that cast of pensive thought,
 To what might seem an angel's face?
Parental care supplies thy want,
 Fulfills each wish thy soul can form,
And spares no art to shield the plant
 Of promise from the adverse storm.
No grief has given thy sigh to flow,
 Nor has for guilt thy bosom bled;
And thou hast never paid to woe
 The tear that love for thee has shed.
The cares that fright the smile of sleep,
 And slowly steal away our bloom,
The time to mourn, to muse, to weep,
 To thee, sweet babe, are yet to come.
Yet who that loves with eye serene
 On peace and innocence to look,
Would haste to pierce the sable screen,
 That curtains fate's eventful book?
No—let its doubtful page of pains,
 In Heaven's decreed oblivion rest;
Nor murmur, while this truth remains,
 That what our God ordains, is best.
And though affection's eager hand
 Might seek to snatch more joy for thee,
Dear infant, than thy God has plann'd,
 For this short life of vanity;
Yet if his love will guide thy ways,
 And light devotion's holy fire,
And let thee breathe in Heaven his praise.
 What more for thee, can man desire?
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On the Departure of Mrs. Nott, with the Missionaries for India

ON THE DEPARTURE OF MRS. NOTT, WITH THE MISSIONARIES FOR INDIA.
ADIEU to her to whom my soul was dear,
Of life unblemish'd, and of heart sincere,
A long adieu! for never, never more,
Must that lov'd footstep press its native shore.
Friend of my heart! now parted far from me,
Borne on the bosom of the faithless sea,
Thou soon must o'er the wilds of Asia stray,
Where the rude Hindoo holds his devious way.
Where'er thou art, my spirit flies to thine,
Bound with the cord of sympathy divine,
And faith still looks beyond this scene of pain,
Where holy friendship's bands shall ne'er be rent again.
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On a Sleeping Infant

ON A SLEEPING INFANT.
O CHILD of innocence and bliss,
 And gentle mirth, and joy benign,
Fond friendship's wish, affection's kiss,
 And warm solicitude are thine.
If ever from yon vaulted sky,
 Angelic hosts to earth descend,
On thee they sure would cast an eye,  And o'er thine infant slumbers bend.
For no dark deeds of guilt or shame,
 Of falsehood, arrogance, or strife,
Of cruel pride, or cold disdain,
 Have ever mark'd thy spotless life.
I, stopping in the giddy maze
 Of youth, to catch a smile from thee,
And pleas'd to look upon the days
 Of careless, guiltless infancy;
Perceive as with a vision'd eye,
 The throngs of care, and woe, and dread,
Which pressing on in sable dye,
 Are hovering round thy cradle bed.
Sternly, impatiently they wait,
 The time when thou shalt be their prey,
For well they know this peaceful state
 Excludes their proud and bitter sway.
Could she, who with a mother's love,
 Thy pliant form has just embrac'd,
But see the woes that thou must prove,
 The bitterness which thou shalt taste;
The nameless pangs thine heart must know,  The anguish that will fright thy sleep,
Her smile would sicken into woe,
 And she would seek alone to weep.
O thou, who thus the eye hast veil'd,
 The book of fate so slowly given,
I thank thee, that thou hast conceal'd
 From man the prescience of heaven.
Ah, when upon thy troubled soul,
 The ills of life shall closely press,
May resignation's meek control,
 Allay the tumult of distress.
For often in affliction's school,
 Though the sad heart perceives it not,
Virtue is gain'd, and wisdom's rule,
 That never, never is forgot.
When o'er thy fading joys declin'd,
 The sounding waves of sorrow roll,
Perchance, thou then that hope may'st find,
 Which proves an anchor to the soul.
Or should the friends whom thou shalt love,
 Thy fond and fearless heart deceive,
Thou still may'st find a friend above,
 Who never will forsake or grieve.
O child of innocence and bliss,
 And gentle mirth, and joy benign,
Fond friendship's wish, affection's kiss,
 And warm solicitude are thine.
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On the Character of Commodore Macdonough

ON THE CHARACTER OF COMMODORE MACDONOUGH.
THE scene of death is past; the cannon's roar
Dies in faint echoes on the distant wave.
The Christian and the hero stands alone
Encircled by the slain. No flush of joy,
Or ray of triumph gilds his thoughtful brow;
For though his heart ascends in grateful praise
To Him who heard his prayer, it sighs with pain, Lamenting o'er the woe his hand has wrought.
That bosom, which amidst the battle's rage,
Was calm and tranquil, feels the life-blood creep
Chill through its channels, and that manly cheek
Which kept its hue unblanch'd, when shrieks of death
And agony arose, is pale, and sad,
And wet with bitter tears for brethren lost.
To them he turns his eye, but meets no glance
Of answering friendship. On the deck they sleep
Pale, ghastly, silent: while the purple stream
Flows slowly ebbing, from their bosoms cold.
One short hour since, he saw them full of life,
And strength, and courage; now the northern blast
Sighs as it passes o'er them—whispering low,
"Behold the end of man!"
Nor yet for friends alone, the victor sighs,
The noble heart may mourn a fallen foe,
And do no wrong to honour; may revere
His virtues, and lament, that cruel fate
Bade those to meet so stern, who would have joy'd
To join in friendship's pure and sacred bands.
He fought not for the vain applause of man,
To light the flame of war in distant lands,
Or carry fire, and sword, and woe, and death,
Among the innocent; but nerv'd his arm,
And steel'd his ardent heart, to meet the sword
Drawn on his native land, and urg'd to blood,
By provocation strange, and the blind wrath
Of erring man. He saw a martial host
Press, with invading step, her vallies green,
Pour o'er her placid lakes the storm of war;
Saw her smooth waters darkened with the shade
Of crowding fleets; he saw the smoke arise
In heavy volumes, from those splendid domes,
Where legislation held her awful sway.
He felt her sad disgrace, and heard a voice,
Deep ton'd and piercing, call the brave to arms;
His was the heart to answer, and he rose,
With confidence in heaven, and soul prepared.
He stood the shock, and from the furnace flame
Came forth like gold. And if this scene of woe
Is still to last, may many heroes rise,
Thus bright with rays, whose source is from within,
And clad in virtue's arms.
The temper'd sword, long bath'd in blood, may break;
The shield may be destroy'd; the well aim'd dart
Err in its course; the warrior's eye grow dim;
But the firm soul, whose trust is plac'd above,
Shrinks not; tho' loud that last, dread trump should sound,
Whose warning voice shall rend the solid earth, And give her glory to the whelming flame.
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On the Convention at Hartford

ON THE CONVENTION AT HARTFORD.
December 15th, 1814.
SAY, who are these that tread the darken'd scene,
With cautious step and deeply thoughtful air?
No crested helmet shades their lofty mien,
No angry dart, or warring sword, they bear,
And though their glance is bold, their brows are mark'd with care.
Around their locks a half-form'd wreath is thrown,
Whose fading leaves, the deepning gloom increase,
Twin'd from a plant, now exil'd and unknown,
For whose return the prayer shall never cease,
The sacred olive fair, that marks the men of peace.
Tho' prompt to ward the near impending stroke,
And guard of freedom's stream the vital source,
They tempt no conflict, no revenge provoke,
But meet oppression in its daring course,
With wisdom's ample shield, of Heaven attemper'd force.
Ye sages firm! in dark and troubled times,
To you, in accents sad, your country sighs,
In days of discord, violence, and crimes,
Her guardians, and her friends, she sees you rise,
Like ancient heroes bold, as humble Christians wise.
She sees no party views your aspects shroud,
No rash resolves your steady course pervert,
And points you high above the arching cloud,
Where round the throne of Him who knows the heart,
Bright watchful seraphs stand, and mark your arduous part.
Ye sages just! the record of these days,
Shall beam afar beyond your last abode,
What now your counsels, or your hands, shall raise,
The sword, the shield, the balance, or the rod,
Will rise before your souls in the dread day of God.
For you the secret prayer to Heaven ascends,
To Heaven for you, assembled hosts implore,
When to the earth the contrite spirit bends,
Or saints the tears of pure devotion pour,
Your names escape their lips, while they their God adore.
# Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On the Character of a Venerable Friend

ON THE CHARACTER OF A VENERABLE FRIEND.
OH, could my humble page one feature save,
Of that dear friend who moulders in the grave,
Or through one soul a generous love diffuse
Of her pure virtues, her exalted views,
Or to one heart a thought of goodness give,
Then not in vain this humble page should live.
And Oh, that I, who saw her here below,
Who knew those deeds the world could never know,
Her inward peace, amid affliction's rage,
Her meek and graceful dignity of age,
Her quickly feeling heart, her moisten'd eye,
When pain was heard to mourn, and want to sigh,
Her tenderness for youth, her alms for woe,
Her hand in secret stretching to bestow,
Her liberal views, her self-instructed mind,
Active and strong, with seraph goodness join'd;
Who saw the path her lonely footstep trod,
Not chosen by the world, tho' mark'd by God;
Who saw her tending down the vale of time,
With thoughtful energy, with hope sublime:
Who saw her sinking in her last repose,
Saw her lov'd life receive its gentle close;
Oh, might I with this image in my eye,
But learn like her to live, like her to die;
Or though a narrower sphere to me is given,
Still in that sphere be emulous of heaven;
Oh, might I from her fond monitions learn,
To heed my last, my infinite concern;
Then not in vain her life, her lessons free,
Then not in vain will be her death to me;
And when with tortur'd nerve, and labouring breath,
I pant upon the icy couch of death;
Then peace shall beam upon my darken'd eyes,
And hope within my fainting heart arise,
That she I lov'd on earth, may meet me in the skies.
# Mord Em'ly

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Pett Ridge's first striking success. The narrative follows the journey, trials, tribulations and triumphs of Mord Em'ly (Maud Emily, in dialect), a lower class working girl brought up by her mother. Left alone much of the time, she is drawn to a girl gang, is caught, and may have to pay the price The story is enlivened by Pett Ridge's typical repartee and "humorous portraits of lower class life."
MORD EM'LY
BY
W. PETT RIDGE
AUTHOR OF
“THREE WOMEN AND MR. FRANK CARDWELL," ETC., ETC.
LONDON
C. ARTHUR PEARSON LIMITED
HENRIETTA STREET, W.C.
1898

### CONTENTS

* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
* Chapter 9
* Chapter 10
* Chapter 11
* Chapter 12
* Chapter 13
* Chapter 14
* Chapter 15
* Chapter 16
* Chapter 17
* Chapter 18
* Chapter 19
* Chapter 20
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1930, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 93 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Morand v. City of Raleigh

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
357 U.S. 343
Morand v. City of Raleigh
Messrs. Herman L. Taylor and Samuel S. Mitchell, for appellants.
Mr. William Joslin, for appellee.
PER CURIAM.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Morand v. City of Raleigh/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
357 U.S. 343
Morand v. City of Raleigh
The motion to dismiss is granted and the appeal is dismissed for want of a substantial federal question.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Natural History: Mammalia/Myrmecobiadæ

Layout 2
Family III. Myrmecobiadæ.
The Family thus named was founded on a single specimen, and though two or three more individuals have since been sent to Europe, they are all of the same species. Its characters are as follow.
Genus Myrmecobius. (Waterhouse.)
The fore-feet are furnished with five toes each, which are armed with strong, curved claws, a little compressed: on the hind feet there are but four toes of a similar character, all free. The head is much lengthened, with a pointed snout; the ears are of moderate size, narrow, erect and pointed: the body is long and slender, the tail rather long, and clothed with loose hair. The number and arrangement of the teeth are thus expressed:—inc. 8/6; can. 1—1/1—1; false molars, 4—4/5—5; molars, 4—4/4—4;$=$52; a greater number than is found in any mammal, ​with the exception of some among the Dolphins and Armadillos. The molars are small, and insectivorous in their form; the branches of the lower jaw are singularly twisted, so that the outer surfaces of the true molars come in contact with the grinding surface of those of the upper jaw.
The Banded Myrmecobius is a beautiful little creature, about as large as a Squirrel. The fore-
BANDED MYRMECOBIUS.
parts are of a bright rust-red, the hind parts nearly black; the body is elegantly marked with six or seven transverse bands of a cream colour, beautifully distinct and clear behind; the underparts are of a dull whitish hue. It has hitherto been obtained only at the Swan River colony.
​This very interesting little animal was first made known by Lieutenant Dale of Liverpool, who discovered it while conducting an exploring party in the interior of the Swan River settlement, at the distance of about ninety miles to the south-east of the mouth of that river. "Two of these animals," observes Lieutenant Dale, "were seen within a few miles of each other: they were first observed on the ground, and on being pursued, both directed their flight to some hollow trees which were near. We succeeded in capturing one of them; the other was unfortunately burnt to death in our endeavour to dislodge it, by fumigating the hollow tree in which it had taken refuge. The country in which they were found, abounded in decayed trees and ant-hills." Mr. Waterhouse was informed that others have been seen in the act of burrowing, or digging at the roots of trees in search after insects. Their favourite haunts are said to be those in which the Port Jackson willow is abundant.
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume III/Doctrinal Treatises of St. Augustin/On the Profit of Believing/Section 12

12. Wherefore I would that they would tell me, in what kind they place the, supposed, error of the Catholic Church. If in the first, it is altogether a grave charge; but it needs not a far-fetched defense: for it is enough to deny that we so understand, as the persons, who inveigh against us, suppose. If in the second, the charge is not less grave; but they shall be refuted by the same saying. If in the third, it is no charge at all. Proceed, and next consider the Scriptures themselves. For what objection do they raise against the books of (what is called) the Old Testament? Is it that they are good, but are understood by us in an ill sense? But they themselves do not receive them. Or is it that they are neither good, nor are well understood? But our defense above is enough to drive them from this position. Or is it this that they will say, although they are understood by you in a good sense, yet they are evil? What is this other than to acquit living adversaries, with whom they have to do, and to accuse men long ago dead, with whom they have no strife? I indeed believe that both those men profitably delivered to memory all things, and that they were great and divine. And that that Law was published, and framed by the command and will of God: and of this, although I have but very slight knowledge of books of that kind, yet I can easily persuade any, if there apply to me a mind fair and no way obstinate: and this I will do, when you shall grant to me your ears and mind well disposed: this however when it shall be in my power: but now is it not enough for me, however that matter may stand, not to have been deceived?
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume III/Doctrinal Treatises of St. Augustin/On the Profit of Believing/Section 1

1. IF, Honoratus, a heretic, and a man trusting heretics seemed to me one and the same, I should judge it my duty to remain silent both in tongue and pen in this matter. But now, whereas there is a very great difference between these two: forasmuch as he, in my opinion, is an heretic, who, for the sake of some temporal advantage, and chiefly for the sake of his own glory and pre-eminence, either gives birth to, or follows, false and new opinions; but he, who trusts men of this kind, is a man deceived by a certain imagination of truth and piety. This being the case, I have not thought it my duty to be silent towards you, as to my opinions on the finding and retaining of truth: with great love of which, as you know, we have burned from our very earliest youth: but it is a thing far removed from the minds of vain men, who, having too far advanced and fallen into these corporeal things, think that there is nothing else than what they perceive by those five well-known reporters of the body; and what impressions and images they have received from these, they carry over with themselves, even when they essay to withdraw from the senses; and by the deadly and most deceitful rule of these think that they measure most rightly the unspeakable recesses of truth. Nothing is more easy, my dearest friend, than for one not only to say, but also to think, that he hath found out the truth; but how difficult it is in reality, you will perceive, I trust, from this letter of mine. And that this may profit you, or at any rate may in no way harm you, and also all, into whose hands it shall chance to come, I have both prayed, and do pray, unto God; and I hope that it will be so, forasmuch as I am fully conscious that I have undertaken to write it, in a pious and friendly spirit, not as aiming at vain reputation, or trifling display.

## Footnotes

* ↑ Plagas
* ↑ Si
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume III/Doctrinal Treatises of St. Augustin/On the Profit of Believing

On the Profit of Believing.
[De Utilitate Credendi.]
Translated by Rev. C. L. Cornish. M.A.

## Contents

* Translator's Preface
* Section 1
* Section 2
* Section 3
* Section 4
* Section 5
* Section 6
* Section 7
* Section 8
* Section 9
* Section 10
* Section 11
* Section 12
* Section 13
* Section 14
* Section 15
* Section 16
* Section 17
* Section 18
* Section 19
* Section 20
* Section 21
* Section 22
* Section 23
* Section 24
* Section 25
* Section 26
* Section 27
* Section 28
* Section 29
* Section 30
* Section 31
* Section 32
* Section 33
* Section 34
* Section 35
* Section 36
# Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I/Volume III/Doctrinal Treatises of St. Augustin/On the Profit of Believing/Section 11

11. And, this being so, hear also just so many conditions and differences of the same Scriptures. For it must be that just so many meet us. For either any one hath written profitably, and is not profitably understood by some one: or both take place unprofitably: or the reader understands profitably, whereas he, who is read, hath written contrariwise. Of these the first I blame not, the last I regard not. For neither can I blame the man, who without any fault of his own hath been ill understood; nor can I be distressed at any one being read, who hath failed to see the truth, when I see that the readers are no way injured. There is then one kind most approved, and as it were most cleansed, when both the things written are well, and are taken in a good sense by the readers. And yet that also is still further divided into two: for it doth not altogether shut out error. For it generally comes to pass, that, when a writer hath held a good sense, the reader also holds a good sense; still other than he, and often better, often worse, yet profitably. But when both we hold the same sense as he whom we read, and that is every way suited to right conduct of life, there is the fullest possible measure of truth, and there is no place opened for error from any other quarter. And this kind is altogether very rare, when what we read is matter of extreme obscurity: nor can it, in my opinion, be clearly known, but only believed. For by what proofs shall I so gather the will of a man who is absent or dead, as that I can swear to it: when, even if he were questioned being present, there might be many things, which, if he were no ill man, he would most carefully hide? But I think that it hath nothing to do towards learning the matter of fact, of what character the writer was; yet is he most fairly believed good, whose writings have benefited the human race and posterity.