OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Letter from Nikola Karev to Gotse Delchev

Addressed to Author:Gotse Delchev
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
1902
Dear G(otze)
... In Krushevo and Bitola the night blocades appear almost every day, and a lot of affairs throw people in jail. We shouldn't wait anymore, Gotse. It is time for us to stand up and fight. We shouldn't wait for freedom from the Greeks, neither from the Bulgarians, but we Macedonians should fight for our Macedonia, ... As I am concerned, nobody can take away my courage and my patriotism. I am proud to report to you, that all our men are prepared to fight, with guns in their hands.
N(ikola)
“Сами ние да се бориме за наша Македонија”, (Необјавено писмо на Никола Карев до Гоце Делчев) – Nova Makedonija (Skopje) year XXIV no. 7744 (5 May 1968) p. 8.
# Letter from Luis Vernet to Lt Smith

Letter from Luis Vernet to British Resident in the Falkland Islands, Lt Smith. Letter requests that Lt Smith disburse the property of the victims of the Gaucho murders of August 1833.
Buenos Ayres Dec 2nd 1834
To the Commander in Chief of H.B.M’S Naval Forces In the South American Station
I write under date of 2nd July per Sardinian (?) Brig Juan Buatista and duplicate per Sardinian Frigate Ammiraglio Des Geneys” to the late Admiral Sir Michael Seymour enclosing a letter to Liet Smith Governor of the Falkland Islands, which letter not having reached Rio de Janeiro until after the death of Sir Michael, may, probably have been sent to England. And being very anxious to attain the object for which they were written I beg leave to hand you herewith copies of the same, trusting that you will have the kindness to do the needful.
In case the property and papers taken by Captain Low should be recovered or any other books or papers belonging to my establishment be saved from the effects of the massacre and be sent by Lieut Smith to Rio de janeiro, I shall consider it a particular favour if you would order such property to be delivered to my account to Messr Richards Rostron Brothers 46 of said place, and to send me such books and papers per first man of war that may happen top come this way. But any private papers belonging to the unfortunate victims I would prefer to be kept back and to be held at the disposal of their nearest relatives, or to be sent to such.
My late agent Capt. Matthew Brisbane left an aged mother and some sisters and brothers, one of which is William Brisbane whose address is Porth, North Britain (No 61 High Street) – Mr William Dickson has left a mother living in Dublin, Mrs Ellen Dickson and a stepfather Mr Thomas Dickson, Barrister at law in Dublin, No 10 Cuff Street, also a sister and a number of step brothers. Mr Ventura Paso clerk of my late agency, and brother in law of mine, native of thisplace, both his parents are living in this city, the father is Don Yldefonso Paso. Any papers or things belonging to his late son, I would thank you to send to me, because the fatal event has not been made known to the family and will not be as long as can be helped. Of the other two unfortunate men the former a Frenchman, the latter a german I know of no relatives, neither do I know how to trace them.
I beg to be excused for the trouble I thus cause you and have the honor to be
Sir your much obedient servant
(signed) Lewis Vernet
# Latter Day Saints' Messenger and Advocate/Volume 3/Number 3

Source document in Mormon Publications: 19th and 20th Centuries online archive: Messenger and Advocate Vol. 3 Note: Some headings and bracketed texts are editorial and not part of the original text.
LATTER DAY SAINTS' :
| MESSENGER AND ADVOCATE |||
| Volume III. No. 3.] | KIRTLAND, OHIO, DECEMBER, 1836. | [Whole No. 27. |
* THE SAINTS AND THE WORLD.
* Extract from "Dick's Philosophy of a Future State"

## Messenger and Advocate

* THE CLOSING YEAR.
* INTERESTING LETTER.
* Letter to Oliver Cowdery from Wilford Woodruff (Nov. 26, 1836)
* List of ministers of the Gospel
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Kylas, Caves of Ellora

see Kailasa Temple, Ellora
72
* FRONT VIEW OF THE KYLAS, CAVES OF ELLORA.
* Artist: S. Prout - Engraved by: R. Sands
THE KYLAS, CAVES OF ELLORA.
The East, it is thy birth-place, thou bright sun; There, too, the mind of man first felt its power, And did begin its course. These mighty fanes Were of its earliest efforts: that fine skill And high imagination, which called forth These giant temples, have, in other shapes, Gone forth to civilize the world—oh! sun, Still following in thy track, and, like thy light, Leaving thick darkness when it past away. All things are signs in nature, still there are Subtle analogies we dimly trace. Perhaps our moral world has but its day, Of which the great sun is the glorious type; And intellect will run its course, and set. If so, we touch on the extremest verge Of our horizon; and our arts, our power, Our conquests o’er the many realms of mind, Wealth, painting, sciences, and poetry, Are but that rich magnificence of hues Which heralds in the closing of our day. These giant fabrics were the first great signs Of man's dominion o’er his mother earth: We have had other triumphs, have achieved Victories o’er all the other elements; And having run mankind's appointed race, Perchance the night comes on, and what we deem Meridian is our setting.
Lord Munster, in his "Overland Journey from India," observes, when speaking of his visit to the Caves of Ellora—"I felt a sensation of gratitude, and almost of esteem, towards the religion which had effected a labour so immense and so remarkable. Every thing around me spoke of other times, of individuals, nations, and arts long since past away; and I took a hurried view of the present state of India, looking in vain for any power or class of men, great, or I may almost say omnipotent enough, to venture on so prodigious an undertaking."— — —"As I stood in Keylas, casting a rapid glance from those ages concealed in impenetrable darkness, in which the stupendous monuments of art before me had arisen, down to the present moment, I sought in vain for any incident in the lapse of time, which could convey an equal conception of the power of man over matter." The writer might well proceed to ask, "Whether the object of amazement, next to this, in the history of India, was not that of the inhabitants of an island in the outskirts of Europe, unknown even by name in these regions, till they were first seen as merchants, and then as conquerors; and who, during little more than half a century, had, by a gradual extension of military operations, established over the country an influence or dominion which may now be said to be universal."
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Love Letter

38
* THE LOVE LETTER.
* Artist: H. Richter - Engraved by: Chas. Rolls
THE LOVE LETTER.
’Pray thee, maiden, heed him not, Is not thine a happy lot? Darling of my aged heart, Canst thou be so glad to part, Where thou art the sole delight, From a home by thee made bright? These are selfish words, and vain, ’Tis not thus I would restrain Her, whose will I never curbed, Whose young joy I ne’er disturbed: But, for thine own sake, I say, Fling that faithless scroll away. Dost thou wish for nights that keep Weary watch, to wake and weep? Wouldst thou have thy bright cheek bear Witness to its own despair, With a dim and sunken eye, Which is fain to close and die? And, yet are not these the things, Soon or late, love ever brings? I have seen a careless smile Hide a breaking heart the while, Watched so much of youth and bloom Sink to an untimely tomb; Dearest one! and must there be Such a destiny for thee? Spare thyself such burning tears, Pity thou thy own few years. Vain these words! love never yet Shunned or spared its own regret: Thou art saddened and estranged, And thy whole sweet nature changed; Love has other love exiled, Fare thee well, alas, my child.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Princess Charlotte

36
* Artist: Sir Thomas Lawrence - Engraved by: Wm. Fry
THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.
HE tears of a nation were shed for her doom, The wail of a people rose over her tomb. From palace and cottage one funeral cry, Asked—So gay and so lovely, oh, how could she die?
Scarce a year since her bridal had gladdened the land, The wreath on her forehead, the ring on her hand: When forth went the summons, and down came the blow; And the young hope of England in dust was laid low.
Alas, for her husband, though others may weep, Ah, what is their sorrow, to what he must keep!
A dream for his midnight, a shade for his day, For which time has no comfort, and hope has no stay.
Love may be forgotten, when false or when vain; And pride may recover its calmness again. But where is the solace for tears that are shed O’er the hope of a life-time, the loved and the dead.
Oh! folly of deeming aught earthly can last, Life never knew sorrow whose reign has not past. Oh! mockery of mockeries, to trust human heart, Whose grief is a shadow, to come and depart:
For he, the heart-broken, hath joy at his side, And again at the altar he stands with his bride. Oh! dark shades of Claremont, find brightness and bloom, For the widower desolate returns a bridegroom.
"It is said, that Leopold and his young bride intend visiting this country, when they will spend a fortnight at Claremont."—Morning Paper.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Sir Walter Scott

68
* Artist: T. Graham, Esq. - Engraved by: J. Thomson
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Dead!—it was like a thunderbolt  To hear that he was dead; Though for long weeks the words of fear  Came from his dying bed; Yet hope denied, and would deny We did not think that he could die.
HE poet has a glorious hold  Upon the human heart, Yet glory is from sympathy  A light alone—apart; But there was something in thy name, Which touched us with a dearer claim.
The earnest feeling borne to thee  Was like a household tie, A sunshine on our common life,  And from our daily sky. Thy works are those familiar things From which so much of memory springs.
We talked of them beside the hearth,  Till every story blends With some remembered intercourse  Of near and dearest friends, Friends that in early youth were ours, Connected with life’s happiest hours,
How well I can recall the time  When first I turned thy page, The green boughs closed above my head  A natural hermitage; And sang a little brook along, As if it heard and caught thy song.
I peopled all the walks and shades  With images of thine; The lime-tree was a lady’s bower,  The yew-tree was a shrine: Almost I deemed each sunbeam shone O’er banner, spear, and morion.
Now, not one single trace is left  Of that sequestered nook; The very course is turned aside  Of that melodious brook: Not so the memories can depart, Then garner’d in my inmost heart.
The past was his—his generous song  Went back to other days, With filial feeling, which still sees  Something to love and praise, And closer drew the ties which bind Man with his country and his kind.
It rang throughout his native land,  A bold and stirring song, As the merle’s hymn at matin sweet,  And as the trumpet strong: A touch there was of each degree, Half minstrel and half knight was he.
How many a lonely mountain glade,  Lives in his verse anew, Linked with associate sympathy,  The tender and the true; For nature has fresh beauty brought, When animate with life from thought.
’Tis not the valley nor the hill,  Tho’ beautiful they be, That can suffice the heart, till touched  As they were touched by thee; Thou who didst glorify the whole, By pouring forth the poet’s soul.
Who now could stand upon the banks  Of thine own "silver Tweed?" Nor deem they heard thy "warrior's horn,"  Or heard thy "shepherd’s reed?" Immutable as Nature’s claim, The ground is hallowed by thy name.
I cannot bear to see the shelf  Where ranged thy volumes stand, And think that mute is now thy lip,  And cold is now thy hand; That, hadst thou been more common clay, So soon thou hadst not passed away.
For thou didst die before thy time,  The tenement o’erwrought, The heart consumed by its desire,  The body worn by thought; Thyself the victim of thy shrine, A glorious sacrifice was thine.
Alas, it is too soon for this—  The future for thy fame; But now we mourn, as if we mourned  A father’s cherished claim. Ah! time may bid the laurel wave— We can but weep above thy grave.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Cootub Minar, Delhi

See Qutb Minar
50
* COOTUB MINAR, DELHI.
* Artist: S. Prout - Engraved by: E. Challis
THE COOTUB MINAR, DELHI.
"I have forgotten," ’tis a common phrase Said every hour, and said of every thing; Objects of sight and hearing pass away, As they had not impressed the eye nor ear: Faces we loved, the voices we thought sweet, Go from us utterly; the very heart Remembers not its beatings; hopes, and fears, In multitudes, leave not a trace behind. One half of our existence is a blank; A mighty empire hath forgetfulness! History is but a page in the great past, So few amid Time’s records are unsealed.— Here is a mighty tower: ere it was raised Its builders must have had wealth, power, and time, And a desire beyond the present hour. Do not these mark a period and a state Refined and civilized? a people past Through each first process of humanity? No dwellers these in tents, who only sought A palm-tree and a well; and left behind No sign, but a scant herbage. They who built This lofty tower, which still defies decay, Must have left many traces; yet not so— This tower is all, and that has long since lost All evidence of former times and men, It has not one tradition.
It is curious to observe the complete oblivion that has attended all man’s greatest efforts; those which asked their immortality of brick and stone. Architecture is the earliest and the most forgetful of the sciences. The pyramids remain as eternal as the earth that bears them; but the name of their founder has long since perished. The work is mightier than its master. The least intellectual effort has a memory far more lasting than that shrined by temple or tower. To me this seems the triumph of mind over matter.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/Sir Thomas Lawrence

16
* Artist: Charles Landseer - Engraved by: J. Thomson
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE.
Divinest art, the stars above  Were fated on thy birth to shine; Oh, born of beauty and of love,  What early poetry was thine!
The softness of Ionian night  Upon Ionian summer lay, One planet gave its vesper light,  Enough to guide a lover’s way; And gave the fountain as it played,  The semblance of a silvery shower, And as its waters fell, they made  A music meet for such an hour; That, and the tones the gentle wind  Won from the leaf, as from a lute, In natural melody combined,  Now that all ruder sound was mute; And odours floated on the air,  As many a nymph had just unbound The wreath that bound their raven hair,  And flung the fragrant tresses round.
Pillowed on violet leaves, which prest  Filled the sweet chamber with their sighs, Lulled by the lyre’s low notes to rest,  A Grecian youth in slumber lies; And at his side a maiden stands,  The dark hair braided on her brow, The lute within her slender hands,  But hushed is all its music now. She would not wake him from his dreams,  Although she has so much to say, Although the morning’s earliest beams  Will see her warrior torn away. How fond and earnest is the gaze  Upon these sleeping features thrown, She who yet never dared to raise  Her timid eyes to meet his own.
She bends her lover’s rest above,  Thoughtful with gentle hopes and fears, And that unutterable love  Which never yet spoke but in tears; She would not that those tears should fall  Upon the cherished sleeper’s face, She turns, and sees upon the wall  Its imaged shade, its perfect grace; With eager hand she marked each line,  The shadowy brow, the arching head, Till some creative power divine,  Love’s likeness o’er love’s shadow spread: Since then, what passion and what power  Has dwelt upon the painter’s art; How has it soothed the absent hour,  With looks that wear life’s loveliest part.
Oh, painter of our English isle,  Whose name is now upon my line, Who gave to beauty’s blush and smile  All that could make them most divine, The fair Ionian’s ancient claim  Was never paid, till paid by thee, And thou didst honour to her name,  By showing what her sex can be.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Chinese Pagoda

76
* CHINESE PAGODA, - BETWEEN CANTON AND WHAMPOA.
* Artist: J. Copley Fielding - Engraved by: Thos. Jeavons
THE CHINESE PAGODA.
Whene'er a person is a poet, No matter what the pang may be; Does not at once the public know it? Witness each newspaper we see.
 "The parting look," "the bitter token," "The last despair," "the first distress;" "The anguish of a heart that’s broken—" Do not these crowd the daily press?
 If then our misnamed "heartless city," Can so much sympathy bestow; If there is so much public pity For every kind of private woe;
 Why not for me?—my care’s more real Than that of all this rhyming band; Whose hearts and tears are all ideal, A sort of joint-stock kept on hand.
 I’m one of those, I do confess, Whom pity greatly can console; To tell, is almost to redress, Whate’er the "sorrow of my soul."
 Now, I who thought the first* vexatious, Despaired, and knew not what to do, Abused the stars, called fate ungracious— Here is a second Chinese view!
 I sent to Messrs. Fisher, saying The simple fact—I could not write; What was the use of my inveighing?— Back came the fatal scroll that night.
 "But, madam, such a fine engraving, The country, too, so little known!" One’s publisher there is no braving— The plate was work’d, "the dye was thrown."
But what’s impossible, can never, By any hazard come to be, It is impossible that ever This place can furnish hints to me.
 O Captain Elliot, what could make you Forsake the Indian fanes of yore? And what in mercy’s name could take you To this most stupid Chinese shore?
 If in this world there is an object, For pity which may stand alone, It is a poet with no subject, Or with a picture worse than none.
* Macao
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Assar Mahal

See Bijapur Fort, Asar Mahal. As Beejapore is nowhere near Agra, Miss Landon may have meant to add 'Ruins near Agra' to the title of Futtypore Sicri, page 81.
40
* ASSAR MAHAL, - BEEJAPORE.
* Artist: Thomas Boys - Engraved by: G. Hamilton
THE ASSAR MAHAL—RUINS NEAR AGRA.
Alas, o’er the palace in ruins, Time has past with a terrible trace— Yet still the vast shrine and the temple Seem to speak of a mightier race Than ours, which exists by the minute, And builds but by contract and steam, Till the spirit has no where to wander, And the heart has no rest for its dream.
But here in the desolate palace, So stedfast amid its decay, With its vast halls and sculptures remaining, The builder alone past away: What visions arise up before us, The infinite and the unknown, Now hidden and vague as the meaning, Concealed in each strangely carved stone!
Who knows but those mystical letters* Might yield every secret of time— Could the past be restored to the present, Methinks ’twere a union sublime: The past—dreaming, high and ideal, The present—keen, selfish and wise, ’Twould be like the glorious old Grecian, And again steal the fire from the skies.
We now make existence too actual, ’Twere better to float down the stream, At the will of the wind and the current, The best of our being a dream. Alas, did I judge from experience, Whatever the future may be, I’d but ask of the past its illusions, They were all that are precious to me.
* Most of the ancient buildings are covered with hieroglyphics.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1833/The Queen of Portugal

see Maria II of Portugal
7
* DONA MARIA IIa., RAINHA de PORTUGAL.
* Artist: J. Holmes - Engraved by: T. Woolnoth
THE QUEEN OF PORTUGAL.
Young daughter of a race of kings,  Is there no crown for thee, The blood that feeds thy being springs  From hoar antiquity. And many are the legends told Of thy proud house in days of old.  Methinks ’tis hard to be A wanderer, rifled of thy own, Banished from thy ancestral throne.
It is in vain to say, content  Dwells with the lowlier lot; That careless smile, and brow unbent,  Are what a king knows not. But who could lay a crown aside, And dream no dreams of former pride,  The glorious past forget Of days before the high command Past meanly from their sceptred hand?
The time has been, when for thy right  A thousand swords had sprung Forth from their scabbards into light,  A thousand trumpets rung; And many a banner, worked in gold, The ’scutcheon on each crimson told  Had high in air been flung, And Europe’s gallant chivalry Had gathered for thy rights and thee.
Those days are past—we reason now  Where we had fought before; And high romance, and knightly vow,  Their influence is o’er: ’Twere better for earth’s happiness If that we calculated less,  And felt a little more. I would not call past times again, But wish our present to retain What then had kindled, Queen, for thee, A bold and ready sympathy.
# Library Association Record

The Library Association Record is a periodical published from 1899 onwards. Certain parts of this work are in the public domain in the United States because they were published before 1929.
Reprints
* Some Things of General Interest in the Bristol Medical Library (1901) External scan
* The Thomas Greenwood Library for Librarians at Manchester (1907) External scan
* The Medical Library Association: A Few Observations (1910) External scan
* Reference: In its Relation to Literature, to Bibliography, to Subject-Indexes and to Systems of Classification (1912) External scan
* An Account of the Library of the Medical Society of London (1914) External scan
# Libraries in the Medieval and Renaissance Periods/By the same author

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
* 1. THE ARCHITECTURAL HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSITY AND OF THE COLLEGES OF CAMBRIDGE AND ETON, by the late Robert Willis, M.A., F.R.S., Jacksonian Professor in the University of Cambridge. Edited with large Additions and brought up to the present time, by John Willis Clark, M.A. 4 vols. Super royal 8vo. With 342 illustrations and 29 plans.
* Cambridge University Press.
* 2. CAMBRIDGE. BRIEF HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE NOTES. Crown 8vo.
* Seeley and Co.
* 3. THE BOOK OF OBSERVANCES OF AN ENGLISH HOUSE OF AUSTIN CANONS, written about A.D. 1296. Edited, with an English translation, introduction, plan of an Augustinian House, and notes. 8vo. [In the Press.
* 4. CAMBRIDGE DESCRIBED AND ILLUSTRATED. By J. W. Clark, M.A. and T. D. Atkinson. With 30 plates by Le Keux and Storer and upwards of 100 Illustrations in the text—Plans, Views, Arms, &c. Medium 8vo.[In preparation.
* Macmillan and Bowes, Cambridge. Macmillan and Co., London.
# Libraries in the Medieval and Renaissance Periods/Front matter

LIBRARIES
IN THE
MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE PERIODS.
Cambridge: PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SONS, AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
# Liberty Warehouse Company v. Grannis

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
273 U.S. 70
Liberty Warehouse Company v. Grannis
Argued: Dec. 7, 1926. --- Decided: Jan 3, 1927
Mr. Allan D. Cole, of Maysville, Ky., for plaintiffs in
error.
Messrs. Aaron Sapiro and Robert S. Marx, both of Chicago, Ill., for defendant in error.
Mr. Justice SANFORD delivered the opinion of the Court.

## 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