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# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Holland, Sir Thomas Henry

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​Holland, Sir Thomas Henry, K.C.I.E., (1908) D.Sc. F.R.S., (1904), F.G.S. Professor of Geology, Manchester University, since 1909; s. of late John Holland Springfield, Canada; b. 1868; m. Francis Maud, d. of late Chas Chapman; National Scholar, 1885; Murchison Medalist and Prizeman, 1887; Assoc. Royal Coll. Science 1888; Berkely Fellow of the Owens College, 1889; joined I.C.S., 1890; Deputy Superintendent, Geological Survey, 1894; President, Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1909; President, Mining and Geological Institute of India, 1906; Director of Geological Survey, India, 1903-1909; Chairman of Trustees, Indian Museum, 1905-09 ​Fellow and Reader, Calcutta University; Dean of Faculty of Science, 1909; President of Board of Studies in Geology and Mineralogy 1905-09; President, Indian Mining and Geological Club and of Royal College of Students0146 Association, 1910; Hon. Member, Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society, and of the Mining and Geological Inst. of India. Publications: numerous memoirs of Petrology, Geology, and Anthropology. Address: Mancheter. Club: Savage.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Home, Sir Anthony Dickson

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​Home, Sir Anthony Dickson, V.C, K.C.B. (1874), Surgeon-General (retired); b. 18-23; entered Army Medical Department, 1848; served in the Crimea, 1854-5; Indian Mutiny, 1857-8; served in China, 1860; New Zealand, 1863-5; Ashanti, 1873-4; P.M.O. Cyprus, 1878-9; P.O.M. to the Forces in India, 1881-5. Publications: Service Memoirs, 1912. Address: 7, Palen Gardens, Tenan, Kensington, W.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Hooker, Sir Joseph Dalton

Date of birth is 1817.
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​Hooker, Sir Joseph Dalton, G.C.S.I., C.B., O.M., M.D., D.C.L., LL.D, F.R.S; b. 1877; s. of late Sir William Jackson Hooker; educ: Glasgow; married twice; joined, R.N. Medical Department, 1839; served as Surgeon and Naturalist in H.M.S. “Erebus” in the Antarctic expedition under Sir James Ross, 1839-43; brought out a series of volumes on the botany of the Antarctic regions.; visited the Himalayas on the North of Sikhim, was badly treated, and kept a prisoner, by the Sikhim authorities; visited the Khasia hills as naturalist, and made botanical collections of great value;, 1847-51: visited Syria and Palestine, I860; Morocco, 1871; the Rocky Mounttains, 1877; served as Assistant Director and Director of Kew Gardens, 1865-85. Publications: Himalayan journals; The Rhododendrons of the Sikhim Himalaya; The Flora of British India, and other scientific works. Address: Sunningdali. Club; Athenium.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Hooper, D.

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# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Hopkins, Edward Washburn

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​Hopkins, Edward Washburn, Ph.D. (Leipzig), LL.D., b, 1857; s; of, Lewis S. Hopkins, M.D.; educ; Columbia, New York, and Leipzig and Berlin engaged in tuition in Columbia, 1881-5; Professor of Sanskrit, first at Byrn Mawr College, 1885-95 and next at Yale, 1895, in succession to Professor Whitney A.B., 1878; Member, German Oriental Society; Secretary, American Oriental Society, since 1897; engaged in University teaching since 1881; spent a year in India, 1896-7. Publications: The Four Castes, Manu in Trubners Oriental Series; Religions of India, The Great Epic of India; Old and New.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Holland, Robert Erskine

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​Holland, Robert Erskine, B. A., I.C S. Political Agent and Consul at Muscat since 1908; b. London, 1873; s. of Prof. Holland, K.C.; m. Gwendoline, e.d. of Francis E. Crow, 1910; educ: Winchester, and Oriel Coll. Oxford; joined I.C.S., 1895; served as Assistant Collector and Magistrate; transferred to Bombay, 1900; served there for a short period, and was retransferred to Madras, 1902; Secretary, Board of Revenue, Madras, 1903; Foreign Department, Government of India Secretariat, 1904-8. Recreaions: riding, shooting, tennis, photography. Address: Muscat, Arabia. Clubs: East India United Service, Bengal, Calcutta.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Hope, Sir Theodore Cracraft

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​Hope, Sir Theodore Cracraft, C.I.E. (1882), C.S.I. (1887), K.C.S.I. (1890), b, 1831; s. of late James Hope, M.D.; educ: Rugby, and Haileybury; entered I.C.S., Bombay, 1858; called to bar (Lincoln’s inn), 1806; Educational Inspector, 1855-8; Member, Imperial Legislative Council, 1875-80; Member, ​Legislative Council, Bombay, 1880; Secretary to Govermnent of India, Finance and Commerce Depart ment, 1881-2; Officiating Finance Minister, 1882; Member in charge of Public Works, 1882-7; Member of the Canterbury House of Laymen. Publications: Church and State in India, and various eductional and architectural works. Address: No. 21 Elveston Clan, S.W. Club: Athenaeum.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Hormasji, Dr. Cowasji

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​Hormasji, Dr. Cowasji, G.G.M.C., Bombay; b. 1837 at Billmora; was Sheriff of Bombay, 1894; elected President of the Bombay Corporation. 1896; Vice-President of the Grant Medical College and Fellow of the Bombay University from 1878; is a Dean of the Faculty of Medicine. Address: Dadar, Bombay, India.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Holmwood Mr. Justice H.

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​Holmwood Mr. Justice H., I.C.S., Judge, High Court Calcutta; educ: Uppingham; joined service, 1879; Inspector-General of Registration, 1890; District and Sessions Judge,. 1894; raised to present position, 1906. Address: Calcutta, India.
# The Indian Biographical Dictionary (1915)/Home, Frederic Jervis

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​Home, Frederic Jervis, C.S.I. (1892); R.E. (retired); b. Calcutta, 1839; o. surviving s. of late Maj-General Richard Home, of the Bengal Army; educ: Kensington Proprietory Grammar School, and at H.E.I.C. Military Seminary, Addiscombe; joined the Bengal Engineers, 1858, and landed in India, 1860; employed in the Irrigation Branch, of the P.W.D., 1861-94; Inspector General of Irrigation and Deputy Secretary to Government of India, P.W.D,, 1890-4; retired 1895. Address: Pitcarins Dunning, Perthshire.
# The King of the Dark Chamber/Act 17

XVII
A Band of Citizens
First Citizen
When so many Kings met together, we thought we were going to have some big fun; but somehow everything took such a turn that nobody knows what happened at all!
Second Citizen
Did you not see, they could not come to an agreement among themselves?—every one distrusted every one else.
Third Citizen
None kept to their original plans; one wanted to advance, another thought ​it better policy to recede; some went to the right, others made a rush to the left: how can you call that a fight?
First Citizen
They had no eye to real fighting—each had his eye on the others.
Second Citizen
Each was thinking, "Why should I die to enable others to reap the harvest?"
Third Citizen
But you must all admit that Kanchi fought like a real hero.
First Citizen
He for a long time after his defeat seemed loth to acknowledge himself beaten.
Second Citizen
He was at last fixed in the chest by a deadly missile.
Third Citizen
But before that he did not seem to realise that he had been losing ground at every step.
First Citizen
As for the other Kings—well, nobody knows where they fled, leaving poor Kanchi alone in the field.
Second Citizen
But I have heard that he is not dead yet.
Third Citizen
No, the physicians have saved him—but he will carry the mark of his defeat on his breast till his dying day.
First Citizen
None of the other Kings who fled has escaped; they have all been taken prisoners. But what sort of justice is this that was meted out to them?
Second Citizen
I heard that every one was punished except Kanchi, whom the judge placed on his right on the throne of justice, putting a crown on his head.
Third Citizen
This beats all mystery hollow.
Second Citizen
This sort of justice, to speak frankly, strikes us as fantastic and capricious.
First Citizen
Just so. The greatest offender is certainly the King of Kanchi; as for ​the others, greed of gain now pressed them to advance, now they drew back in fear.
Third Citizen
What kind of justice is this, I ask? It is as if the tiger got scot-free, while his tail got cut off.
Second Citizen
If I were the judge, do you think Kanchi would be whole and sound at this hour? There would be nothing left of him altogether.
Third Citizen
They are great, high justices, my friends; their brains are of a different stamp from ours.
First Citizen
Have they got any brains at all, I wonder? They simply indulge their ​sweet whims as there are none to say anything to them from above.
Second Citizen
Whatever you may say, if we had the governing power in our hands we should certainly have carried on the government much better than this.
Third Citizen
Can there be any real doubts about that? That of course goes without saying.
# The King of the Dark Chamber/Act 20

XX
The Dark Chamber
Sudarshana
Lord, do not give me back the honour which you once did turn away from me! I am the servant of your feet—I only seek the privilege of serving you.
King
Will you be able to bear me now?
Sudarshana
Oh yes, yes, I shall. Your sigh repelled me because I had sought to find you in the pleasure garden, in my Queen's chambers: there even your ​meanest servant looks handsomer than you. That fever of longing has left my eyes for ever. You are not beautiful, my lord—you stand beyond all comparisons!
King
That which can be comparable with me lies within yourself.
Sudarshana
If this be so, then that too is beyond comparison. Your love lives in me—you are mirrored in that love, and you see your face reflected in me: nothing of this mine, it is all yours, O lord!
King
I open the doors of this dark room to-day—the game is finished here! Come, come with me now, come outside—into the light!
Sudarshana
Before I go, let me bow at the feet of my lord of darkness, my cruel, my terrible, my peerless one!
THE END
Printed in the United States of America.
# The King of the Dark Chamber/Act 14

XIV
Sudarshana and Surangama at the Window
Sudarshana
Must I go to the assembly of the princes, then? Is there no other means of saving father's life?
Surangama
The King of Kanchi has said so.
Sudarshana
Are these the words worthy of a King? Did he say so with his own lips?
Surangama
No, his messenger, Suvarna, brought this news.
Sudarshana
Woe, woe is me!
Surangama
And he produced a few withered flowers and said, "Tell your Queen that the drier and more withered these souvenirs of the Spring Festival become, the fresher and more blooming do they grow within in my heart."
Sudarshana
Stop! Tell me no more. Do not torment me any more.
Surangama
Look! There sit all the princes in the great assembly. He who has no ornament on his person, except a ​single garland of flowers round his crown—he is the King of Kanchi. And he who holds the umbrella over his head, standing behind him—that is Suvarna.
Sudarshana
Is that Suvarna? Are you quite certain?
Surangama
Yes, I know him well.
Sudarshana
Can it be that it is this man that I saw the other day? No, no,—I saw something mingled and transfused and blended with light and darkness, with wind and perfume,—no, no, it cannot be he; that is not he.
Surangama
But every one admits that he is exceedingly beautiful to look at.
Sudarshana
How could that beauty fascinate me? Oh, what shall I do to purge my eyes of their pollution?
Surangama
You will have to wash them in that bottomless darkness.
Sudarshana
But tell me, Surangama, why does one make such mistakes?
Surangama
Mistakes are but the preludes to their own destruction.
Messenger (entering)
Sudarshana
Surangama, bring me the veil. ​(Surangama goes out.) O King, my only King! You have left me alone, and you have been but just in doing so. But will you not know the inmost truth within my soul? (Taking out a dagger from within her bosom.) This body of mine has received a stain—I shall make a sacrifice of it to-day in the dust of the hall, before all these princes! But shall I never be able to tell you that I know of no stain of faithlessness within the hidden chambers of my heart? That dark chamber where you would come to meet me lies cold and empty within my bosom to-day—but, O my Lord! none has opened its doors, none has entered it but you, O King! Will you never come again to open those doors? Then, let death come, for it is dark like yourself, and its features are beautiful as yours. It is you—it is yourself, O King!
# The King of the Dark Chamber/Act 18

XVIII
The Street. Grandfather and Kanchi
Grandfather
What, Prince of Kanchi, you here!
Kanchi
Your King has sent me on the road.
Grandfather
That is a settled habit with him.
Kanchi
And now, no one can get a glimpse of him.
Grandfather
That too is one of his amusements.
Kanchi
But how long more will he elude me like this? When nothing could make me acknowledge him as my King, he came all of a sudden like a terrific tempest—God knows from where—and scattered my men and horses and banners in one wild tumult: but now, when I am seeking the ends of the earth to pay him my humble homage, he is nowhere to be seen.
Grandfather
But however big an Emperor he may be, he has to submit to him that yields. But why have you come out at night, Prince?
Kanchi
I still cannot get rid of the feeling of a secret dread of being laughed at by people when they see me meekly ​doing my homage to your King, acknowledging my defeat.
Grandfather
Such indeed is the people. What would move others to tears only serves to move their empty laughter.
Kanchi
But you too are on the road, Grandfather.
Grandfather
This is my jolly pilgrimage to the land of losing everything.
Sings
I am waiting with my all in the hope of losing everything. I am watching at the roadside for him who turns one out into the open road,
Who hides himself and sees, who loves you unknown to you, I have given my heart in secret love to him, I am waiting with my all in the hope of losing everything.
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (1899)/The Man with the Hoe

The Man with the Hoe
Written after seeing Millet's World-Famous Painting
God made man in His own image, in the image of God made He him.—Genesis.
Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and land; To trace the stars and search the heavens for power; To feel the passion of Eternity? Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns And pillared the blue firmament with light? Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this— More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed— More filled with signs and portents for the soul— More fraught with menace to the universe.
What gulfs between him and the seraphim! Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades? What the long reaches of the peaks of song, The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose? Through this dread shape the suffering ages look; Time's tragedy is in that aching stoop; Through this dread shape humanity betrayed, Plundered, profaned and disinherited, Cries protest to the Judges of the World, A protest that is also prophecy.
O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands, Is this the handiwork you give to God, This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched? How will you ever straighten up this shape; Touch it again with immortality; Give back the upward looking and the light; Rebuild in it the music and the dream; Make right the immemorial infamies, Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands, How will the Future reckon with this Man? How answer his brute question in that hour When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world? How will it be with kingdoms and with kings— With those who shaped him to the thing he is—-- When this dumb Terror shall reply to God, After the silence of the centuries?
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)/A Harvest Song

A Harvest Song
The gray bulk of the granaries uploom against the sky; The harvest moon has dwindled—they have housed the corn and rye; And now the idle reapers lounge against the bolted doors— Without are hungry harvesters, within enchanted stores.
Lo, they had bread while they were out a-toiling in the sun: Now they are strolling beggars, for the harvest work is done. ​They are the gods of husbandry: they gather in the sheaves, But when the autumn strips the wood, they're drifting with the leaves.
They plow and sow and gather in the glory of the corn; They know the noon, they know the pitiless rains before the morn; They know the sweep of furrowed fields that darken in the gloom— A little while their hope on earth, then evermore their tomb.
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)/A Leaf from the Devil's Jest-Book

A Leaf from the Devil's Jest-Book
Beside the sewing-table chained and bent, They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud— For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud; They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rent Torn in life's golden curtains. Glad Youth went, And left them alone with Time; and now if bowed With burdens they should sob and cry aloud,— Wondering, the rich would look from their content.
​And so this glimmering life at last recedes In unknown, endless depths beyond recall; And what's the worth of all our ancient creeds, If here at the end of ages this is all— A white face floating in the whirling ball, A dead face plashing in the river reeds?
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)/A Look into the Gulf

A Look into the Gulf
I looked one night, and there Semiramis, With all her mourning doves about her head, Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell, Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon Snatches of song they sang to her of old Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh. And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh: "The bugles! they are crying back again— Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon, And then went crying on through Nineveh. ······
​Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill! Women, let go my hair: I am the Queen, A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers: Assyria goes by upon the wind!" And so she babbles by the ancient road, While cities turned to dust upon the Earth Rise through her whirling brain to live again— Babbles all night, and when her voice is dead Her weary lips beat on without a sound.
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)

Illustrated by Howard Pyle
The Man with the Hoe
The Man with the Hoe and Other Poems
By
Edwin Markham
DECORATED BY HOWARD PYLE
New York Doubleday & McClure Co. 1900
Copyright, 1899, 1900, by Edwin Markham
THE DEVINNE PRESS.
TO
EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN
FIRST TO HAIL AND CAUTION ME
Prefatory Note
Many of these poems have appeared in Scribner's, The Century, The Atlantic, and the San Francisco Examiner, and my thanks are due them for permission to republish.
Edwin Markham.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
The Contents
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 1940, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 83 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
# The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)/A Cry in the Night

A Cry in the Night
Wail, wail, wail, For the fleering world goes down: Into the song of the poet pale Mixes the laugh of the clown.
Grim, grim, grim, Is the road we go to the dead; Yet we must on, for a Something dim Pushes the soul ahead.
Where, where, where, Through the dust and shadow of things, Will the fleeing Fates with their wild manes bear These tribes of slaves and kings?
# The Man with the Hoe

* "The Man with the Hoe", in The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (1899)
* "The Man with the Hoe", in The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (1900) (with illustrations by Howard Pyle).
* "The Man With the Hoe", in Poems That Every Child Should Know (1904), edited by Mary Elizabeth Burt
# The Job (Lewis)/The Office

Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
# The Moon (Thoreau)

"The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray"
* "The Moon" in Poems of Nature (1895)
* "The Moon" in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau (1906) Vol. 5
# The Moon (Richter)

English-language translations of Der Mond include:
* "The Moon" Richard Holcraft, Tales of humour and romance. London: Longman. 1829
* "The Moon" John Oxenford, Tales from the German, comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors. New York: Harper. 1844
# The Moon (L. E. L.)

* Moon from the Literary Gazette, 25th March 1826.
* The Moon from The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems, 1835.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 8/Chapter 29

CHAP. XXIX.
—Thou wilt get a brush and a little chalk to my sword—'Twill be only in your honour's way, replied Trim.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 8/Chapter 27

CHAP. XXVII.
The world is ashamed of being virtuous—My uncle Toby knew little of the world; and therefore when he felt he was in love with widow Wadman, he had no conception that the thing was any more to be made a mystery of, than if Mrs. Wadman, had given him a cut with a gap'd knife across his finger: Had it been otherwise———yet as he ever look'd upon Trim as a humble friend; and saw fresh reasons every day of his life, to treat him as such—it would have made no variation in the manner in which he informed him of the affair.
​"I am in love, corporal!" quoth my uncle Toby.
# The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 8/Chapter 31

CHAP. XXXI.
If any thing in this world, which my father said, could have provoked my uncle Toby, during the time he was in love, it was the perverse use my father was always making of an expression of Hilarion the hermit; who, in speaking of his abstinence, his watchings, flagellations, and other instrumental parts of his religion—would say—tho' with more facetiousness than became an hermit—"That they were the means he used, to make his ass (meaning his body) leave off kicking."
​It pleased my father well; it was not only a laconick way of expressing—but of libelling, at the same time, the desires and appetites of the lower part of us; so that for many years of my father's life, 'twas his constant mode of expression—he never used the word passions once—but ass always instead of them—So that he might be said truly, to have been upon the bones, or the back of his own ass, or else of some other man's, during all that time.
I must here observe to you, the difference betwixt
My father's ass
and my hobby-horse—in order to keep characters as separate as may be, in our fancies as we go along.
​For my hobby-horse, if you recollect a little, is no way a vicious beast; he has scarce one hair or lineament of the ass about him—'Tis the sporting little filly-folly which carries you out for the present hour—a maggot, a butterfly, a picture, a fiddle-stick—an uncle Toby's siege—or an any thing, which a man makes a shift to get a stride on, to canter it away from the cares and solicitudes of life—'Tis as useful a beast as is in the whole creation—nor do I really see how the world could do without it———
———But for my father's ass———oh! mount him—mount him—mount him—(that's three times, is it not?)—mount him not:—'tis a beast concupiscent—and foul befall the man, who does not hinder him from kicking.