OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Political History of the Devil Upon Two Sticks/Chapter 5

​ROBESPIERRE, when deputed to the National Assembly, was provided with a coat upon the occassion, by an old benefactor; but behold the rigid virtues of a republican! He soon inhabited a splendid hotel in the capital, appeared in glittering equivages, and revelled in banquets and entertainments.
Oh may all these who pant for reform, in their different countries be enamoured with such thoughts of rioting on the ruin of their superiors; and panting with glorious ardour for such dignities in the state as have adorned the bloody brows of this assassin be hurried on to commit such crimes against every government, as will produce the same glorious work for devils as this merciless ambitious wretch hath committed here. Not a spark of love for his country entered the breast of this tyger; but to fix himself in his place, and to add to his revelling used constantly, on condemning crowds to the guillotine pronounce, "A little more blood does no harm."
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# Political Ideals

POLITICAL IDEALS
BY
BERTRAND RUSSELL
Author of "Why Men Fight," etc.
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1917
Copyright, 1917, by
THE CENTURY Co.
Copyright, 1917, by
The North American Review Corporation
Published September, 1917
CONTENTS
CHAPTERPAGE
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 1970, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 53 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
# Political History of the Devil Upon Two Sticks/Chapter 6

​DANTON, the former colleague and assistant of Robespierre was the son of a butcher who bred him be a surgeon. He was so mean and cringing to men in power, the nobility and princes that he got ⟨appointed⟩ surgeon extraordinary to the Count d'Ar(illegible text)s, and so unlucky was he in losing patients, that any page or domestic offended the count he was ⟨accustomed⟩ to threaten to deliver them to be cured ​by Danton. So mean was this wretch that he would caress the horses who he said had the happiness to be the favourites of the Count or Countess; but no sooner were they unable to serve him, than he transferred his worship to the mob, and thus continued to co-operate with Robespierre is rivetting the chains of tyranny on the nation, till jealousy brought him to receive what he merited: and soon after Robespierre met the fate that he had brought on him and thousands.
These have only made way for a new series of tyrants who continue to delude this volatile unthinking people with the names of Liberty and Freedom, whereas they have only changed from the despotism of one tyrant to that of Five hundred.
—Here the Devil upon Two Sticks stopt short. He was suddenly taken with a frisson, and changed colour.
What is the matter, said the student, what extraordinary motion makes you shake, and stop short? Ah Signior Leandro, cried the dæmon with a trembling voice, how unfortunate am I? the conjurer, who kept me in the bottle in his laboratory has found I am flown. He is going to recal me by such forcible conjurations as I cannot resist. What a mortification is this to me; said Don Cleofas, quite softened with compassion! and what a loss am I going to suffer! For now I much fear we are going to part for ever. I do not think so, answered Asmodeo. The magician may want my assistance, and if I have the good fortune to do him any service perhaps out of gratitude, he may give me my liberty. If that should happen, as I hope, depend upon it I will soon be with you, upon condition that you reveal to no soul living what has this night passed between us; for should you be so indiscreet as to impart it to any body, I tell you before hand, you will never see me more.
FINIS.
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# Political History of the Devil Upon Two Sticks/Chapter 3

​And first, DUMOURIER began his career as a spy in England in the year 1780, where he pretended to be a persecuted clergyman exiled for having published a book entitled, The folly of France assisting the rebels. Thus he cajoled the British Government, and rendered his country such service that he was made commandant of Cherbourg; at the revolution he worked himself into the favour of the unfortunate king; was raised to the chief command of the army; and when a dispute had arisen betwixt him and some of his associates who thought themselves deprived of a due share of the spoils—to elude the gullotine he escaped to Switzerland.
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# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Song of Life

Originally titled Little at First, but Great at Last
Song of Life.
A traveller on a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root and sprouted up, And grew into a tree. Love sought its shade at evening-time, To breathe its early vows; And Age was pleased, in heights of noon, To bask beneath its boughs. ​The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, The birds sweet music bore— It stood a glory in its place, A blessing evermore.
A little spring had lost its way Amid the grass and fern; A passing stranger scooped a well Where weary men might turn. He walled it in, and hung with care A ladle on the brink; He thought not of the deed he did, But judged that Toil might drink. He passed again; and lo! the well, By summer never dried, Had cooled ten thousand parchéd tongues, And saved a life beside.
A nameless man, amid the crowd That thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, Unstudied from the heart, A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath, It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast! Ye were but little at the first, But mighty at the last.
Charles Mackay.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Stevenson's Birthday

Stevenson's Birthday.
"How I should like a birthday!" said the child, "I have so few, and they so far apart." She spoke to Stevenson—the Master smiled— "Mine is to-day; I would with all my heart That it were yours; too many years have I! Too swift they come, and all too swiftly fly."
So by a formal deed he there conveyed All right and title in his natal day, To have and hold, to sell or give away,— Then signed, and gave it to the little maid.
Joyful, yet fearing to believe too much, She took the deed, but scarcely dared unfold. Ah, liberal Genius! at whose potent touch All common things shine with transmuted gold! A day of Stevenson's will prove to be Not part of Time, but Immortality.
Katherine Miller.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Sweet and Low

From The Princess: Canto II. See Sweet and Low for Joseph Barnby's musical setting.
Sweet and Low.
Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dropping moon and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
Alfred Tennyson.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/The Arrow and the Song

The Arrow and the Song.
"The Arrow and the Song," by Longfellow (1807-82), is placed first in this volume out of respect to a little girl of six years who used to love to recite it to me. She knew many poems, but this was her favourite.
I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Henry W. Longfellow
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Solitude

Solitude.
Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease Together mixt, sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
​Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
Alexander Pope.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/The Banks o' Doon

The Banks o' Doon.
"The Banks o' Doon," by Robert Burns (1759-96). Bonnie Doon is in the southwestern part of Scotland. Robert Burns's old home is close to it. The house has low walls, a thatched roof, and only two rooms. Alloway Kirk and the two bridges so famous in Robert Burns's verse are near by. This is an enchanted land, and the Scotch people for miles around Ayr speak of the poet with sincere affection. Burns, more than any other poet, has thrown the enchantment of poetry over his own locality.
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care.
​Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause luve was true.
Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate.
Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love, And sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose Frae off its thorny tree; And my fause luver staw the rose, But left the thorn wi' me.
Robert Burns.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/Sir Galahad

Sir Galahad.
Sir Galahad is the most moral and upright of all the Knights of the Round Table. The strong lines of the poem (Tennyson, 1809-92) are the strong lines of human destiny—
"My strength is as the strength of ten Because my heart is pure."
My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel, The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly, The horse and rider reel: They reel, they roll in clanging lists, And when the tide of combat stands, Perfume and flowers fall in showers, That lightly rain from ladies' hands.
How sweet are looks that ladies bend On whom their favours fall! For them I battle till the end, To save from shame and thrall: But all my heart is drawn above, My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine: I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer A virgin heart in work and will.
​When down the stormy crescent goes, A light before me swims, Between dark stems the forest glows, I hear a noise of hymns: Then by some secret shrine I ride; I hear a voice, but none are there; The stalls are void, the doors are wide, The tapers burning fair. Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth, The silver vessels sparkle clean, The shrill bell rings, the censer swings, And solemn chaunts resound between.
Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark; I leap on board: no helmsman steers: I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the holy Grail: With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessèd vision! blood of God! My spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides the glory slides, And star-like mingles with the stars.
When on my goodly charger borne Thro' dreaming towns I go, The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, The streets are dumb with snow. The tempest crackles on the leads, And, ringing, springs from brand and mail; ​But o'er the dark a glory spreads, And gilds the driving hail. I leave the plain, I climb the height; No branchy thicket shelter yields; But blessèd forms in whistling storms Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields.
A maiden knight—to me is given Such hope, I know not fear; I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven That often meet me here. I muse on joy that will not cease, Pure spaces cloth'd in living beams, Pure lilies of eternal peace, Whose odours haunt my dreams; And, stricken by an angel's hand, This mortal armour that I wear, This weight and size, this heart and eyes, Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air.
The clouds are broken in the sky, And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear: "O just and faithful knight of God! Ride on! the prize is near." So pass I hostel, hall, and grange; By bridge and ford, by park and pale, All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide, Until I find the holy Grail.
Alfred Tennyson.
# Poems That Every Child Should Know/The Babie

The Babie.
I found "The Babie" in Stedman's "Anthology." It is placed in this volume by permission of the poet, Jeremiah Eames Rankin, of Cleveland (1828-), because it captured the heart of a ten-year-old boy whose fancy was greatly moved by the two beautiful lines:
"Her face is like an angel's face, I'm glad she has no wings."
Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes. Nae stockin' on her feet; Her supple ankles white as snaw, Or early blossoms sweet.
Her simple dress o' sprinkled pink, Her double, dimplit chin, Her puckered lips, and baumy mou', With na ane tooth within.
Her een sae like her mither's een, Twa gentle, liquid things; Her face is like an angel's face: We're glad she has nae wings.
Jeremiah Eames Rankin.
# Popular Science Monthly/Volume 10/December 1876/Correspondence

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FIGHT BETWEEN A TROUT AND A WATER-SNAKE.
To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.
HAVING read in your July number Mr. Buckland's account of a fight between a scorpion and a mouse, I am induced to give you an account of a remarkable conflict between a large water-snake and a trout, witnessed by myself and one of my brother officers in the survey in 1867, on the Purissima, a small trout-stream which empties into the ocean about twenty-four miles south of San Francisco. We had been fishing on the stream, and came to a high bank which overlooked a transparent pool of water about ten feet in diameter and four feet in depth. This pool was fringed with willows, and had on one side a small gravel-bank. The trout at first sight was lying in mid-water, heading up-stream. It was, as afterward ascertained, fully nine inches in length, a very desirable prize for an angler. While studying how to cast our flies to secure him, a novel fisherman appeared, and so quick were his actions that we suspended our own to witness them. This new enemy of the trout was a large water-snake of the common variety, striped black and yellow. He swam up the pool on the surface until over the trout, when he made a dive, and by a dexterous movement seized the trout in such a fashion that the jaws of the snake closed its mouth. The fight then commenced. The trout had the use of its tail and fins, and could drag the snake from the surface; when near the bottom, however, the snake made use of its tail by winding it around every stone or root that it could reach. After securing this tail-hold it could drag the trout toward the bank, but, on letting go, the trout would have a new advantage. This battle was continued for full twenty minutes, when the snake managed to get its tail out of the water and clasped around the root of one of the willows mentioned as overhanging the pool. The battle was then up, for the snake gradually put coil after coil around the root, with each one dragging the fish toward the land. When half its body was coiled it unloosed the first hold and stretched the end of its tail out in every direction, and, finding another root, made fast, and now using both dragged the trout out on the gravel-bank. It now had it under control, and, uncoiling, the snake dragged the fish fully ten feet up on the bank, and I suppose would have gorged him. We killed the snake, and replaced the trout in the water, as we thought that he deserved liberty. He was apparently unhurt, and in a few moments darted off. That the water-snake of our California brooks will prey upon the young of trout and also smaller and less active fishes, I have noticed, but never have seen an attack on a fish so large or one more hotly contested. Yours respectfully,
* A. W. Chase,
* Assistant U. S. Coast Survey.
# Political Arithmetick (1899)/Chapter VII

Political Arithmetick was first published in 1690. According to Petty's list it was written in 1676. This edition is from the The Economic Writings of Sir William Petty, edited by Charles Henry Hull, and published in 1899 (vol. 1, pages 233-313)
Chap. VII.
TO clear this Point, we are to find out, what is the middle An estimate of the medium of Expence of each Head in England. expence of each Head in the Kings Dominions, between the highest and the lowest; to which I say it is not probably less than the expence of a Labourer, who earneth about 8d. a day; for the Wages of such a Man is 4s. per week without Victuals, or 2s. with it; wherefore the value of his Victuals is 2s. per week, or 5l. 4s. per annum: Now the value of Clothes cannot be less than the Wages given to the poorest Maid-|[102]|Servant in the Country, which is 30s. per annum, nor can the charge of all other Necessaries, be less than 6s. per annum more; wherefore the whole charge is 7l.
It is not likely that this Discourse will fall into the hands of any that live at 7l. per annum, and therefore such will wonder at this supposition: But if they consider how much the number of the Poor, and their Children, is greater than that of the Rich; although the personal expence of some ​Rich Men, should be twenty times more than that of a Labourer; yet the expence of the Labourer above mentioned, may well enough stand for the Standard of the Expence, of the whole mass of Mankind.
Now if the expence of each Man, one with another, be 7l. per annum, and if the number of the Kings Subjects, be ten Millions, then the tenth part of the whole expence, will be seven Millions: but about five Millions, or a very little more, will amount to one years pay for one hundred thousand Foot, forty thousand Horse, and forty thousand Men at Sea, Winter and Summer; which can rarely be necessary. |[103]| And the ordinary charge of the Government, in times of deep and serene Peace, was not 600000l. per annum.
Where a People thrive, there the income is greater than the expence, and consequently the tenth part of the expence is not a tenth part of the income; now for Men to pay a tenth of their expence, in a time of the greatest exegency (for such it must be when so great Forces are requisite) can be no hardship, much less a deplorable condition, for to bear the tenth part, a Man needs spend but a twentieth part less, and labour a twentieth part more, or half an hour per diem extraordinary, both which within Common Experience are very tolerable; there being very few in England, who do not eat by a twentieth part more than does them good; and what misery were it, in stead of wearing Cloth of 20s. per Yard, to be contented with that of 19s. few Men having skill enough to discern the difference.
Memorandum, That all this while I suppose, that all of these ten Millions of People, are obedient to their Sovereign, and within the reach of his power; |[104]| for as things are otherwise, so the Calculation must be varied.
* ↑ S, '100000.'
* ↑ S, 'man Servant,' R, 'maid servant.'
# Political Arithmetick (1899)/Chapter IX

Political Arithmetick was first published in 1690. According to Petty's list it was written in 1676. This edition is from the The Economic Writings of Sir William Petty, edited by Charles Henry Hull, and published in 1899 (vol. 1, pages 233-313)
Chap. IX.
SInce his Majesties happy Restauration, it was thought fit to call in, and new Coin the mony, which was made in the times of Usurpation. Now it was observed by the general consent of Cashiers, that the said mony (being by frequent Revolutions well mixed with old) was about a seventh part thereof: and that the said mony being called in, was about 800000l. and consequently the whole five Millions six hundred thousand pound. Whereby it is probable that (some allowance being given for hoarded mony) the whole Cash of England was then about six Millions, which I conceive is sufficient to drive the Trade of England, not doubting but the rest of his Majesties Dominions have the like means to do the same respectively. |[111]|
If there be six Millions of Souls in England, and that each spendeth 7l. per annum, then the whole expence is forty two Millions, or about eight hundred thousand pound per week; and consequently, if every Man did pay his expence weekly, and that the Money could circulate within the compass of a Week, then less than one Million would answer the ends proposed. But forasmuch as the Rents of the Lands in England (which are paid half yearly) are eight Millions per annum, there must be four Millions to pay them. And forasmuch as the Rent of the Housing of England, paid quarterly, are worth about four Millions per ann. there needs but one Million to pay the said Rents; wherefore six Millions being enough to make good the three sorts of Circulations ​above mentioned, I conceive what was proposed, is competently proved, at least until something better be held forth to the contrary. |[112]|
* ↑ R,'or 5 millions & a halfe' inserted.
* ↑ See Treatise of Taxes, p. 56, where the expense of the people of England is estimated at 50 millions, and compare A moderate Computation of the Expences in Provisions, spent in the... Places within the Bills... observed by a scrutinous Enquiry into most of the Particulars. By John Seller, sen. London, sold by Richard Baldwin, 1691. Sellers makes the average expenditure £27.1749 per capita.
# Poems (Hornblower)/The Poet's Gift

POEMS.
# Poems (Toke)/To the redbreast

December 31, 1834.
# Poems (Toke)/Vainly, beloved, have I tried to meet

October' 6, 1856.'
# Poems (Toke)/Upon this very day, ten years ago

July 4, 1847.
# Poems (Toke)/To my boy

December 50, 1810.
# Poems (Toke)/To my child in illness

Hastings, April 26, 1839.
# Poems (Toke)/To my sleeping children

February 14, 1840.
# Poems (Toke)/To the dying year

December 31, 1836.
# Poems (Toke)/When o'er my weary eyes at last

October 4, 1854.