OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Letters concerning the English Nation/Letter XX

LETTER XX.
On such of the
NOBILITY
As cultivate the
BELLES LETTRES.
THERE once was a Time in France when the polite Arts were cultivated by Persons of the highest Rank in the State. The Courtiers particularly, were conversant in them, altho' Indolence, a Taste for Trifles, and a Passion for Intrigue, were the Divinities of the Country. The ​Court methinks at this Time seems to have given into a Taste quite opposite to that of polite Literature, but perhaps the Mode of Thinking may be reviv'd in a little Time. The French are of so flexible a Disposition, may be moulded into such a Variety of Shapes, that the Monarch needs but command and he is immediately obey'd. The English generally think, and Learning is had in greater Honour among them than in our Country; an Advantage that results naturally from the Form of their Government. There are about eight hundred Persons in England who have a Right to speak in publick, and to support the Interest of the Kingdom; and near five or six Thousand may in their Turns, aspire to the same Honour. The whole Nation set themselves up as Judges over these, and every Man has the Liberty of publishing his Thoughts with regard to publick Affairs; which shews, that all the People in general are indispensably oblig'd to cultivate their Understandings. In England the Governments of Greece ​and Rome are the Subject of every Conversation, so that every Man is under a Necessity of perusing such Authors as treat of them, how disagreeable soever it may be to him; and this Study leads naturally to that of polite Literature. Mankind in general speak well in their respective Professions. What is the Reason why our Magistrates, our Lawyers, our Physicians, and a great Number of the Clergy are abler Scholars, have a finer Taste and more Wit than Persons of all other Professions? The Reason is, because their Condition of Life requires a cultivated and enlightned Mind, in the same Manner as a Merchant is oblig'd to be acquainted with his Traffick. Not long since an English Nobleman, who was very young, came to see me at Paris in his Return from Italy. He had writ a poetical Description of that Country, which, for Delicacy and Politeness may vie with any Thing we meet with in the Earl of Rochester, or in our Chaulieu, our Sarrasin, or Chapelle. The Translation I have given of it is so ​inexpressive of the Strength and delicate Humour of the Original, that I am oblig'd seriously to ask Pardon of the Author, and of all who understand English. However, as this is the only Method I have to make his Lordship's Verses known, I shall here present you with them in our Tongue.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Wishing Gate

78
* THE ANCIENT ‘WISHING GATE’, LIVERPOOL.
* Artist: S. F. Serres - Engraved by: W. Floyd
THE WISHING GATE.*
Wishes, no! I have not one,
Hope’s sweet toil with me is done;
One by one have flitted by,
All the rainbows of the sky.
Not a star could now unfold
Aught I once wished to be told.
What have I to seek of thee?
Not a wish remains for me.
Let the soldier pause to ask,
Honour on his glorious task;
Let the parting sailor crave
A free wild wind across the wave;
Let the maiden pause to frame
Blessings on some treasured name;
Let them breathe their hopes in thee,
Not a wish remains for me.   Not a wish! beat not my heart,
Thou hast bade thy dreams depart;
They have past, but left behind
Weary spirit, wasted mind.
Ah! if this old charm were sooth, One wish yet might tax its truth; I would ask, however vain,
Never more to wish again.
* I believe that to this haunted gate, a common superstition is attached, namely, that to wish, and to have that wish fulfilled, is the result of such wish being uttered while passing.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Zenana - Interlude 3

A moment’s rest, and then once more Zilara tried her memory’s store, And woke, while o’er the strings she bowed, A tale of Rajahstan the proud.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Visionary

98
* THE VISIONARY.
* Artist: H. Liverseege - Engraved by: F. Engleheart
THE VISIONARY.
I Pray thee do not speak to me  As you are speaking now,
It brings the colour to my check,
 The shadow to my brow.
I pray thee do not look at me,  I cannot bear that gaze;
Though downcast be my eye, it still
 Too much my heart betrays.
I feel the past is written there,
 The past, long since gone by—
The past, where feelings, fancies, hopes,
 Alike unburied lie;
Unburied, for their restless ghosts
 Still haunt the sad domain,
And, mockeries of their former selves,
 Come thronging back again.
But changed as I and thou art changed,  Or rather me alone,
I never had your heart—but mine,
 Alas! was all your own.
Oh, magic of a tone and word,
 Loved all too long and well.
I cannot close my heart and ear
 Against their faithless spell—
I know them false, I know them vain,  And yet I listen on—
And say them to myself again,
 Long after thou art gone.
I make myself my own deceit,  I know it is a dream,
But one that from my earliest youth
 Has coloured life’s deep stream;
Frail colours flung in vain, but yet
 A thousand times more dear
Than any actual happiness
 That ever brightened here.
The dear, the long, the dreaming hours
 That I have past with thee,
When thou hadst not a single thought
 Of how thou wert with me—
I heard thy voice—I spoke again—  I gazed upon thy face,
And never scene of breathing life
 Could leave a deeper trace,
Than all that fancy conjured up,
 And made thee look and say,
Till I have loathed reality,  That chased such dream away.
Now, out upon this foolishness,  Thy heart it is not mine;
And, knowing this, how can I waste
 My very soul on thine?
Alas! I have no power to choose,  Love is not at my will; I say I must be careless, cold,
 But find I love thee still.
I think upon my wasted life,
 And on my wasted heart,
And turn, ashamed and sorrowful,
 From what will not depart.
Thy haunting influence, how it mocks  My efforts to forget!
The stamp love only seals but once
 Upon my life is set.
I hear from others gentle words,  I scarcely heed the while;
Listened to, but with weariness,  Forgotten with a smile.
But thine, though chance and usual words  Are treasured, as we keep
Things lovely, precious, and beloved,
 O’er which we watch and weep.
I scarcely wish to see thee now,  It is too dear a joy:
It is such perfect happiness,
 It must have some alloy.
I dream of no return from thee—  Enough for me to love; I brood above my silent heart,
 As o’er its nest the dove.
But speak not, look not, mock me not,
 With light and careless words;
It wounds me to the heart, it jars
 My spirit’s finest chords.
I’ll not forget thee;—let me dream  About thee as before.
But, farewell, dearest; yes, farewell,
 For we must meet no more.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Zenana - Interlude 2

Deep silence chained the listeners round, When, lo, another plaintive sound, Came from the river’s side, and there They saw a girl with loosened hair
Seat her beneath a peepul tree, Where swung her gurrah* mournfully, Filled with the cool and limpid wave, An offering o’er some dear one’s grave. At once Zilara caught the tone, And made it, as she sung, her own.
* Gurrah.—The Gurrah is the water-jar which the Hindoo women poise so gracefully on their heads. Heber mentions, that they hang gurrahs on the peepul, a species of sacred tree; and much planted about graves, that the spirits of the deceased may drink the holy waves of the Ganges.
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Zenana - Lady, sweet Lady, song of mine

SONG.
"Lady, sweet Lady, song of mine  Was never meant for thee, I sing but from my heart, and thine—  It cannot beat with me.
"You have not knelt in vain despair,  Beneath a love as vain, That desperate—that devoted love,  Life never knows again.
"What know you of a weary hope,  The fatal and the fond, That feels it has no home on earth,  Yet dares not look beyond?
"The bitterness of wasted youth,  Impatient of its tears; The dreary days, the feverish nights,  The long account of years.
"The vain regret, the dream destroy'd,  The vacancy of heart, When life's illusions, one by one,  First darken—then depart.
"The vacant heart! ah, worse,—a shrine  For one beloved name: Kept, not a blessing, but a curse,  Amid remorse and shame.
"To know how deep, how pure, how true  Your early feelings were; But mock’d, betray’d, disdain’d, and chang’d,  They have but left despair.
"And yet the happy and the young  Bear in their hearts a well Of gentlest, kindliest sympathy,  Where tears unbidden dwell.
"Then, lady, listen to my lute;  As angels look below, And e’en in heaven pause to weep  O’er grief they cannot know."
# Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book, 1834/The Zenana - Interlude 1

The song was o’er, but yet the strings Made melancholy murmurings; She wandered on from air to air, Changeful as fancies when they bear The impress of the various thought, From memory’s twilight caverns brought. At length, one wild, peculiar chime Recalled this tale of ancient time.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/The "Binding" Effect in Snow

The "binding" effect of intense cold and a fierce wind on snow is remarkably illustrated by a photograph, in Science, of a large mass of snow formed on one side of a telegraph pole (at the top) near the summit of Mount Washington. Lieutenant Schwatka notes this in relation to the building of snow houses by the Eskimo. While the cohesion of snow in our latitudes (and the early Arctic snow) is of a plastic, wet, or "pasty" nature, the snow used in building, packed by high wind and cold, is dry and almost stone-like. Cutting a thin portion gives a shower of fine powder as from loaf-sugar. Blocks of this snow ring like a well-burnt brick, or a bar of suspended steel struck with the hand. Lieutenant Schwatka remembers a block rolling down hill fifteen or twenty feet, and says: "I doubt if a rolling guitar would have given forth many more confused musical tones than the bumping block as it struck and bounded down the hard stone-like bank of snow." The least quantity of ice in the snow, however, makes it more or less worthless for building. To produce this snow, it may not be necessary that the wind and the low temperature have occurred together, but both must have happened before the Eskimo will use the snow for building.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/Obscurity

Originally published in Leisure Hour.
If thou canst wake within one human breast A thought of lasting joy, if thou hast stirred Holy desire by some inspiring word Or lulled the sorrowful to soothing rest; If with some glorious vision thou hast blest The tired, the wayworn (as when some rapt bird Unseen pours forth its soul, the song is heard By the tranced leaves and flowers, a-tremble lest It cease too soon, too soon) — if this thy lot, Care not how lonely thou mayst seem to be, How cast away as useless or forgot; As to the mightiest comes his work, to thee The humble task to light some little spot, Though star-like, yet with rays the heavens may see.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/To Friends after Death

author stated as Lady Cork
She who is gone, to you, dear friends,  One last, and ling'ring word would say, This greeting in affection sends,  And bids you think of her to-day.
Not as of one who seldom erred,  (God knows, alas! it was not so!) Who right to wrong at once preferred,  And sought the truth alone to know;
But one too often known to fail,  From Wisdom's teaching to depart, A wayward, rash, unruly, frail,  Yet oh! believe, a loving heart.
Men saw her errors, God her pain,  He watched her strive, he heard her sigh, He took her to his arms again,  In rest and safety there to lie.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/To my Mother

Originally published in Spectator. Translation of "An meine Mutter" (1822).
I left thee once in mad desire to find  The love for which my spirit yearned with pain;  At many a door I knocked and knocked in vain, Craving love's alms which none to grant inclined,  But laughing, treated me with cold disdain; Yet still I wandered, eager in the quest, Forever seeking, and for aye unblest,  Since no one gave the boon for which I pined. Then, mother! turning to my home I went  With weary steps and sorrow-numbing care, And lo! my pain was lost in sweet content,  For what I sought came to me unaware; In the dear eyes that on thy son were bent  All I had asked I found, for love was there.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2200/Memory

Originally published in Athæneum.
O camp of flowers, with poplars girdled round,  The guardians of life's soft and purple bud!  O silver spring, beside whose brimming flood My dreaming childhood its Elysium found! O happy hours with love and fancy crowned,  Whose horn of plenty flatteringly subdued  My heart into a trance, whence, with a rude And horrid blast, fate came my soul to hound: Who was the goddess who empowered you all  Thus to bewitch me? Out of wasting snow  And lily-leaves her headdress should be made! Weep, my poor lute! nor on Astræa call.  She will not smile, nor I, who mourn below,  Till I, a shade in heaven, clasp her, a shade.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2200/The Wanderer's Return

Originally published in Macmillan's Magazine.
"How cold upon my passion blows the wind,  Over the old sweet fields — so sweet that I  Could wander more, yet for all memory Not sweet enough. Beloved, ah! have I sinned, That all but these dumb fields looks so unkind  And I, without e'en one familiar face,  Must see the darkness in the sunny place, And set my feet here, wandering still in mind?"
Then glancing up, if heaven might look sweet  Upon his sorrow, one bright star he spied. But, as he gazed, his hungry eyes grew dim, And the star seemed so many worlds from him.  Heart-sick, he turned; and in the pool beside Lo! the same star was shining at his feet.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/August in the Keswick Vale

Originally published in Spectator.
Now genial August, July's swarthy child,  Comes with the bloom of heather on her cheek,  Rain, cloud, and sun play games of hide-and-seek: Old Skiddaw frowns, anon is reconciled. For harvest-home the last hay-cart is piled,  The warm-breathed barns with richest odors reek,  Fresh emerald hues the flowerless meadows streak, And second spring upon the vale has smiled. Sweet second spring! though all the birds are still,  Yet have we tender life and flutterings,  And innocent new eyes on every spray, With downy breasts that think we mean no ill;  And while such glimpse of Eden August brings,  We love her better than the tuneful May.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2201/The Death of Procris

Originally published in English Illustrated Magazine.
Poor jealous Procris in the Cretan wood,  Slain by the very hand of love at last! This way was best; the cordial bath of blood,  The long love-sickness past.
The brown fauns gather round with piteous cries;  They mourn her beauty, know not of her woe; They find no Eos graven on those eyes  Whence tears no longer flow.
Her griefs, her frailties from the flowery turf  Exhaled, are like the dews of yesterday; The grim ship hurrying through the Phocian surf,  The exile on her way,
The cruel goddess, and the twofold test,  The breaking heart of hate, the poisoned hours, — All these have faded out in utter rest  Among the Cretan flowers.
Ah! wrap her body in its fluttering lawns!  'Tis Cephalus' own shaft that hath made cease The passion of her breast; hush, foolish fauns,  Hush! for her end was peace.
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 1928, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 95 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
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 170/Issue 2200/Sonnet XIII

On the last day, when rings the trumpet dread,  When earth and all its creatures are no more,  Then must we duly reckon up the score Of all the idle words that we have said. Oh, how shall then the many words bestead,  That every day from deep affection's store  To win thy grace right eagerly I pour, If on thine ear they perish, ill-besped? Look well, beloved, look into thine heart,  Think well upon thy dallying and delay, That the world know no more such anguished smart. If babblings vain, in which thou hast a part,  Must all be stated and explained away —  Why, I shall need a year-long judgment-day.
# Jap Herron

Jap Herron was a novel written in the early 20th Century, whose author claimed to have had the work dictated to her from beyond the grave, by the deceased Mark Twain through use of a Ouija board.
* The Coming Of Jap Herron: An Introduction
* 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
* Chapter 21
* Chapter 22
* Chapter 23
* Chapter 24
* Chapter 25
* Chapter 26
# Japan: Its History, Arts, and Literature

* Volume I
* Volume II
* Volume III
* Volume IV
* Volume V
* Volume VI
* Volume VII
* Volume VIII
Layout 2
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# January School District of the Month

January School District of the Month. Congressional Record: January 23, 2002 (Extensions of Remarks) Page E3. DOCID:cr23ja02-15.
JANUARY SCHOOL DISTRICT OF THE MONTH
______
HON. CAROLYN McCARTHY
OF NEW YORK
IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES
Wednesday, January 23, 2002
Mrs. McCARTHY of New York. Mr. Speaker, I have named the Franklin Square School District as School District of the Month in the Fourth Congressional District for January 2002. The schools are Polk Street, Washington Street and John Street Elementary Schools.
This month I've decided to honor three schools in the Franklin Square School District for their growth and innovativeness. Dr. Timothy Lafferty is the outstanding Superintendent of Schools in Franklin Square. Primarily serving the residents of Franklin Square, the school district also adds portions of these neighboring communities: Garden City South, West Hempstead, Elmont and Malverne. The administrators of the schools are: Gloria Perry, Principal, Polk Street Elementary School; Vincent Butera, Principal, Washington Street Elementary School; and Ceil Candreva, Principal, John Street Elementary School.
Today, all three elementary schools in the district held groundbreaking ceremonies for renovations and additions to be completed in this new year.
Any time I see Long Island schools growing, expanding and renovating, I'm heartened for our future. The very structure of a building is so vital to the inside health and well-being of the students, staff and faculty on the inside.
Dr. Lafferty and his administration prepare children to be contributing members of society along with their academic instruction. Providing a "Foundation for Success" is the driving force that shapes all programs in the Franklin Square School District's three elementary schools.
Two programs cited as "exemplifying the spirit" of the schools are the Accelerated Reading Program and the Character Development Program. The goal of the Accelerated Reading Program is to ensure that students read more books independently outside of the school day. Each teacher maintains a bulletin board which spotlights students' progress toward achieving their goals.
The Character Development Program aims to teach students values by stressing practice in addition to study and discussion. Through the implementation of cooperative learning, students learn to practice leadership strategies, impulse control and responsibility. Students learn to be good citizens. The vision of Franklin Square School District--A Foundation for Success--prepares Long Island students for a lifetime of learning. It is a vision shared by all members of Franklin Square community, including students, teachers, administrators and parents.
The Fourth Congressional District salutes the Franklin Square School District's focus on the future. I congratulate all members of the Franklin Square School District community on this honor.
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
# Letters of Junius/Letter LXII

LETTER LXII.
TO AN ADVOCATE IN THE CAUSE OF THE PEOPLE.
18. October 1771.
    SIR,
You do not treat Junius fairly. You would not have condemned him so hastily, if you had ever read Judge Foster's argument upon the legality of pressing seamen. A man who has not read that argument, is not qualified to speak accurately upon the subject. In answer to strong facts and fair reasoning, you produce nothing but a vague comparison between two things which have little or no resemblance to each other. General Warrants, it is true, had been often issued but they had never been regularly questioned or resisted, until the case of Mr. Wilkes. He brought them to trial; and the moment they were tried, they were declared illegal. This is not the case of Press Warrants. They have been complained of, questioned, and resisted in a thousand instances; but still the legislature have never interposed, nor has ​there ever been a formal decision against them in any of the superior courts. On the contrary, they have been frequently recognised and admitted by parliament; and there are judicial opinions given in their favour by judges of the first character. Under the various circumstances stated by Junius, he has a right to conclude for himself, that there is no remedy. If you have a good one to propose, you may depend upon the assistance and applause of Junius. The magistrate who guards the liberty of the individual deserves to be commended. But let him remember, that it is also his duty to provide for, or at least not to hazard, the safety of the community. If, in the case of a foreign war, and the expectation of an invasion, you would rather keep your fleet in harbour, than man it by pressing seamen who refuse the bounty, I have done.
You talk of disbanding the army with wonderful ease and indifference. If a wiser man held such language, I should be apt to suspect his sincerity.
As for keeping up a much greater number of seamen in time of peace, it is not to be ​done. You will oppress the merchant, you will distress trade, and destroy the nursery of your seamen. He must be a miserable statesman who voluntarily, by the same act increases the public expense, and lessens the means of supporting it.
PHILO JUNIUS.