OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Perpetuity

See also Perpetuity on Wikipedia; perpetuity on Wiktionary; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​PERPETUITY (Lat. perpetuus, continuous), the state of being perpetual or continuing for an indefinite time; in law the tying-up of an estate for a lengthened period, for the purpose of preventing or restricting alienation. As being opposed to the interest of the state and individual effort, the creation of perpetuities has been considerably curtailed, and the rule against perpetuities in the United Kingdom now forbids the making of an executor interest unless beginning within the period of any fixed number of existing lives and an additional period of twenty-one years (with a few months added, if necessary, for the period of gestation). The rule applies to dispositions of personal property (see Accumulation) as well as of real property. There are certain exceptions to the rule, as in the case of limitations in mortmain and to charitable uses, and also in the case of a perpetuity created by act of parliament (e.g. the estate of Blenheim, settled on the duke of Marlborough, and Strathfieldsaye on the duke of Wellington). In the United States the English common-law rule against perpetuities obtains in many of the states; in others it has been replaced or reinforced by statutory rules (see Gray on Alienation, § 42). Charities may be established in perpetuity, and provision may be made for an accumulation of the funds for a reasonable time, e.g. for 100 years (Woodruff v. Marsh, 63 Conn. Rep. 125; 38 Amer. St. Rep. 346). The general tendency of American legislation is to favour tying up estates to a greater extent than was formerly approved.
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Perron, Pierre Cuillier

See also Pierre Cuillier-Perron on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​PERRON, PIERRE CUILLIER (1755–1834), French military adventurer in India, whose name was originally Pierre Cuillier, was born in 1755 at Chateau du Loire in France, the son of a cloth merchant. In 1780 he went out to India as a sailor on a French frigate, deserted on the Malabar coast, and made his way to upper India, where he enlisted in the rana of Gohad’s corps under a Scotsman named Sangster. In 1790 he took service under De Boigne, and was appointed to the command of his second brigade. In 1795 he assisted to win the battle of Kardla against the nizam of Hyderabad, and on De Boigne’s retirement became commander-in-chief of Sindhia’s army. At the battle of Malpura (1800) he defeated the Rajput forces. After the defeat of Ujjain (1801) he refused to send his troops to the aid of Sindhia. His treachery on this occasion shook his position, and on the outbreak of war between Sindhia and the British in 1803 Perron was superseded and fled to the British camp. In the battles of Delhi, Laswari and Assaye, Perron’s battalions were completely destroyed by Lord Lake and ​Sir Arthur Wellesley. He returned to France with a large fortune, and died in 1834.
See H. Compton, European Military Adventurers of Hindustan (1892).
# 3 Corinthians

3 Corinthians or the Third Epistle to the Corinthians is a pseudepigraphic epistle attributed to Paul the Apostle. It seems to originate from the late 2nd century in the era of early Christianity, and is generally thought to be a defense of early orthodoxy against Gnosticism. It was not included in later canon lists of what would become the New Testament, although some Armenian Christians continued to use it in medieval era. It was originally written in Greek.
English-language translations of 3 Corinthians include:
# A Book of the West/Volume 2

A BOOK OF THE WEST
VOL. II.
CORNWALL
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
* LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
* THE TRAGEDY OF THE CÆSARS
* THE DESERT OF SOUTHERN FRANCE
* STRANGE SURVIVALS
* SONGS OF THE WEST
* A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG
* OLD COUNTRY LIFE
* YORKSHIRE ODDITIES
* FREAKS OF FANATICISM
* A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES
* OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES
* A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS
* AN OLD ENGLISH HOME
* THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW
* THE CROCK OF GOLD
CORNISH FISHERMEN
A
BOOK OF THE WEST
BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO DEVON AND CORNWALL
BY S. BARING-GOULD
VOL. II. CORNWALL
WITH THIRTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK: NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK CO. LONDON: METHUEN & CO. 1900
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS
From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.
From a photograph by the Rev. A. H. Malan.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
From an old print.
From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
By permission of the Daily Graphic.
By permission of the Daily Graphic.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
Drawn by F. B. Bond, Esq.
From an old engraving.
From a photograph by F. B. Bond, Esq.
From a photograph by F. B. Bond, Esq.
From the tomb of Maximilian I. at Innsbruck.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
By permission of the Daily Graphic.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
Drawn by F. D. Bedford, Esq.
Drawn by F. D. Bedford, Esq.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
Drawn by F. B. Bond, Esq.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
From a sketch by F. B. Bond, Esq.
From a photograph by Messrs. Gibson, Penzance.
From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.
From an old engraving.
From a photograph.
PLYMOUTH WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON PRINTERS
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To Willie and Henrietta

I
TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA
IF two may read aright
These rhymes of old delight
And house and garden play, You two, my cousins, and you only, may.
You in a garden green
With me were king and queen,
Were hunter, soldier, tar,
And all the thousand things that children are.
Now in the elders' seat
We rest with quiet feet,
And from the window-bay
We watch the children, our successors, play.
'Time was,' the golden head
Irrevocably said;
But time which none can bind,
While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To Auntie

III
TO AUNTIE
CHIEF of our aunts—not only I,
But all your dozen of nurselings cry— What did the other children do?
And what were childhood, wanting you?
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To Minnie

IV
TO MINNIE
THE red room with the giant bed
Where none but elders laid their head;
The little room where you and I
Did for awhile together lie
And, simple suitor, I your hand
In decent marriage did demand;
The great day nursery, best of all,
With pictures pasted on the wall
And leaves upon the blind—
A pleasant room wherein to wake
And hear the leafy garden shake
And rustle in the wind—
And pleasant there to lie in bed
And see the pictures overhead—
The wars about Sebastopol,
The grinning guns along the wall,
The daring escalade,
The plunging ships, the bleating sheep,
The happy children ankle-deep
And laughing as they wade:
All these are vanished clean away,
And the old manse is changed to-day;
It wears an altered face
And shields a stranger race.
The river, on from mill to mill,
Flows past our childhood's garden still;
But ah! we children never more
Shall watch it from the water-door!
Below the yew—it still is there—
Our phantom voices haunt the air
As we were still at play,
And I can hear them call and say:
'How far is it to Babylon?'   Ah, far enough, my dear,
Far, far enough from here—
Yet you have farther gone!
'Can I get there by candlelight?' So goes the old refrain.
I do not know—perchance you might—
But only, children, hear it right,
Ah, never to return again!
The eternal dawn, beyond a doubt,
Shall break on hill and plain,
And put all stars and candles out,
Ere we be young again.
To you in distant India, these
I send across the seas,
Nor count it far across.
For which of us forgets
The Indian cabinets,
The bones of antelope, the wings of albatross,
The pied and painted birds and beans,
The junks and bangles, beads and screens,
The gods and sacred bells,
And the loud-humming, twisted shells?
The level of the parlour floor
Was honest, homely, Scottish shore;
But when we climbed upon a chair,
Behold the gorgeous East was there!
Be this a fable; and behold
Me in the parlour as of old,
And Minnie just above me set
In the quaint Indian cabinet!
Smiling and kind, you grace a shelf
Too high for me to reach myself.
Reach down a hand, my dear, and take
These rhymes for old acquaintance' sake!
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To My Mother

II
TO MY MOTHER
YOU too, my mother, read my rhymes
For love of unforgotten times,
And you may chance to hear once more
The little feet along the floor.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Travel

X
TRAVEL
I SHOULD like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;—
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie,
And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
Lonely Crusoes building boats;—
Where in sunshine reaching out
Eastern cities, miles about,
Are with mosque and minaret
Among sandy gardens set,
And the rich goods from near and far
Hang for sale in the bazaar;—
Where the Great Wall round China goes,
And on one side the desert blows,
And with bell and voice and drum,
Cities on the other hum;—
Where are forests, hot as fire,
Wide as England, tall as a spire,
Full of apes and cocoa-nuts
And the negro hunters' huts;—
Where the knotty crocodile
Lies and blinks in the Nile,
And the red flamingo flies
Hunting fish before his eyes;—
Where in jungles, near and far,
Man-devouring tigers are,
Lying close and giving ear
Lest the hunt be drawing near,
Or a comer-by be seen
Swinging in a palanquin;—
Where among the desert sands
Some deserted city stands,
All its children, sweep and prince,
Grown to manhood ages since,
Not a foot in street or house,
Not a stir of child or mouse,
And when kindly falls the night,
In all the town no spark of light.
There I'll come when I'm a man
With a camel caravan;
Light a fire in the gloom
Of some dusty dining room;
See the pictures on the walls,
Heroes, fights and festivals;
And in a corner find the toys
Of the old Egyptian boys.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/The Wind

XXV
THE WIND
I SAW you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies' skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To Alison Cunningham

TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM
FROM HER BOY
FOR the long nights you lay awake
And watched for my unworthy sake:
For your most comfortable hand
That led me through the uneven land:
For all the story-books you read:
For all the pains you comforted:
For all you pitied, all you bore,
In sad and happy days of yore:—
My second Mother, my first Wife,
The angel of my infant life—
From the sick child, now well and old,
Take, nurse, the little book you hold!
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
May find as dear a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme,
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice
As made my childish days rejoice!
R. L. S.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To Any Reader

VI
TO ANY READER
AS from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/To My Name-Child

V
TO MY NAME-CHILD
1
SOME day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed, Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read. Then shall you discover, that your name was printed down By the English printers, long before, in London town.
In the great and busy city where the East and West are met, All the little letters did the English printer set; While you thought of nothing, and were still too young to play, Foreign people thought of you in places far away.
Ay, and while you slept, a baby, over all the English lands Other little children took the volume in their hands; Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas: Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, please?
2
Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play, Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey, Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze, Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas.
And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog rolls to you, Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do; And that while you thought of no one, nearly half the world away Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Time to Rise

XXXIV
TIME TO RISE
A BIRDIE with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head?'
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Marching Song

XXII
MARCHING SONG
BRING the comb and play upon it!
Marching, here we come!
Willie cocks his highland bonnet,
Johnnie beats the drum.
Mary Jane commands the party,
Peter leads the rear;
Feet in time, alert and hearty,
Each a Grenadier!
All in the most martial manner
Marching double-quick;
While the napkin like a banner
Waves upon the stick!
Here's enough of fame and pillage,
Great commander Jane!
Now that we've been round the village,
Let's go home again.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/My Bed Is a Boat

XXXI
MY BED IS A BOAT
MY bed is like a little boat;
Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
And starts me in the dark.
At night, I go on board and say
Good night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away
And see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take,
As prudent sailors have to do:
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
Perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer:
But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room, beside the pier,
I find my vessel fast.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Nest Eggs

II
NEST EGGS
BIRDS all the sunny day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour-like Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork The brown nest is seated; Four little blue eggs The mother keeps heated.
While we stand watching her, Staring like gabies, Safe in each egg are the Bird's little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall Chip, and upspringing Make all the April woods Merry with singing.
Younger than we are, O children, and frailer, Soon in blue air they'll be, Singer and sailor.
We, so much older, Taller and stronger, We shall look down on the Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying With musical speeches High overhead in the Tops of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom And sensible talking, We on our feet must go Plodding and walking.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Night and Day

I
NIGHT AND DAY
WHEN the golden day is done, Through the closing portal, Child and garden, flower and sun, Vanish all things mortal.
As the blinding shadows fall, As the rays diminish, Under evening's cloak, they all Roll away and vanish.
Garden darkened, daisy shut, Child in bed, they slumber— Glow-worm in the highway rut, Mice among the lumber.
In the darkness houses shine, Parents move with candles; Till on all, the night divine Turns the bedroom handles.
Till at last the day begins In the east a-breaking, In the hedges and the whins Sleeping birds a-waking.
In the darkness shapes of things, Houses, trees, and hedges, Clearer grow; and sparrow's wings Beat on window ledges.
These shall wake the yawning maid; She the door shall open— Finding dew on garden glade And the morning broken.
There my garden grows again Green and rosy painted, As at eve behind the pane From my eyes it fainted.
Just as it was shut away, Toy-like, in the even, Here I see it glow with day Under glowing heaven.
Every path and every plot, Every bush of roses, Every blue forget-me-not Where the dew reposes,
'Up!' they cry, 'the day is come On the smiling valleys: We have beat the morning drum; Playmate, join your allies!'
# A Child's Garden of Verses/My Kingdom

III
MY KINGDOM
DOWN by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out, Some yellow and some red.
I called the little pool a sea; The little hills were big to me; For I am very small. I made a boat, I made a town, I searched the caverns up and down, And named them one and all.
And all about was mine, I said, The little sparrows overhead, The little minnows too. This was the world and I was king; For me the bees came by to sing, For me the swallows flew.
I played there were no deeper seas, Nor any wider plains than these, Nor other kings than me. At last I heard my mother call Out from the house at evenfall, To call me home to tea.
And I must rise and leave my dell, And leave my dimpled water well, And leave my heather blooms. Alas! and as my home I neared, How very big my nurse appeared, How great and cool the rooms!
# A Child's Garden of Verses/My Shadow

XVIII
MY SHADOW
I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/North-West Passage

XLI
NORTH-WEST PASSAGE
1. Good Night.
WHEN the bright lamp is carried in,
The sunless hours again begin;
O'er all without, in field and lane,
The haunted night returns again.
Now we behold the embers flee
About the firelit hearth; and see
Our faces painted as we pass,
Like pictures, on the window-glass.
Must we to bed indeed? Well then, Let us arise and go like men, And face with an undaunted tread
The long black passage up to bed.
Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!
O pleasant party round the fire!
The songs you sing, the tales you tell,
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well!
2. Shadow March.
All round the house is the jet-black night;
It stares through the window-pane;
It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
And it moves with the moving flame.
Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,
With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;
And all round the candle the crooked shadows come
And go marching along up the stair.
The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, The shadow of the child that goes to bed—
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
With the black night overhead.
3. In Port.
Last, to the chamber where I lie
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come from out the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.
There, safe arrived, we turn about
To keep the coming shadows out, And close the happy door at last
On all the perils that we past.
Then, when mamma goes by to bed, She shall come in with tip-toe tread, And see me lying warm and fast
And in the Land of Nod at last.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/Picture-Books in Winter

IV
PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER
SUMMER fading, winter comes— Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone Nurse and I can walk upon; Still we find the flowing brooks In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by, Wait upon the children's eye, Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are, Seas and cities, near and far, And the flying fairies' looks, In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise, Happy chimney-corner days, Sitting safe in nursery nooks, Reading picture story-books?
# A Child's Garden of Verses/My Treasures

V
MY TREASURES
THESE nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest Where all my lead soldiers are lying at rest, Were gathered in autumn by nursie and me In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.
This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!) By the side of a field at the end of the grounds. Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own, It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!
The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey, We discovered I cannot tell how far away; And I carried it back although weary and cold, For though father denies it, I'm sure it is gold.
But of all of my treasures the last is the king, For there's very few children possess such a thing; And that is a chisel, both handle and blade, Which a man who was really a carpenter made.
# A Child's Garden of Verses/My Ship and I

II
MY SHIP AND I
O IT'S I that am the captain of a tidy little ship, Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond; And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about; But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.
For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the helm, And the dolly I intend to come alive; And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I shall go, It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive.
O it's then you'll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds, And you'll hear the water singing at the prow; For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage and explore, To land upon the island where no dolly was before, And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Urbs Salvia

See also Urbs Salvia on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​URBS SALVIA (mod. Urbisaglia), an ancient town of Picenum, Italy, about 8 m. S. of the modern Macerata, and 10 m. S. of Ricina. It was the meeting-point of several ancient roads; the road leading south from Ancona through Ricina and Falerio to Asculum was crossed here at right angles by that from Fanum to Tolentinum, Septempeda (S. Severino) and Nuceria Camellaria, while another led north-east from Urbs Salvia to Pausulae and the coast at Potentia (near mod. Porto Recanati). It seems to have been also called Pollentia. The date of its foundation is unknown, but it became a colony in the time of Trajan, and its importance seems to begin from this period. It was utterly destroyed by Alaric, and both Procopius (B.G. ii. 16, 17) and Dante (Paradiso, xvi. 73) speak of its desolation. The arx is occupied by the modern village; below it considerable remains of the city walls and of the buildings within them, alike of brickwork of the imperial period, are preserved—an amphitheater 328×249 ft., with an arena 190×112 ft., a theatre, baths, tombs, &c. A subterranean aqueduct and a number of inscriptions have been found on the site. Close by is a little chapel with paintings of the early 16th century. The Romanesque abbey church of the Fiastra, about 3 m. to the north, is noticeable. The territory of Urbs Salvia probably extended as far as the old Romanesque church of S. Maria. di Rambona, 8 m. to the north-west.