OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Mardi/Volume II/Chapter LXV

Morning dawned upon the same mild, blue Lagoon as erst; and all the lands that we had passed, since leaving Piko's shore of spears, were faded from the sight.
Part and parcel of the Mardian isles, they formed a cluster by themselves; like the Pleiades, that shine in Taurus, and are eclipsed by the red splendor of his fiery eye, and the thick clusterings of the constellations round.
And as in Orion, to some old king-astronomer,—say, King of Rigel, or Betelguese,—this Earth's four quarters show but four points afar; so, seem they to terrestrial eyes, that broadly sweep the spheres.
And, as the sun, by influence divine, wheels through the Ecliptic; threading Cancer, Leo, Pisces, and Aquarius; so, by some mystic impulse am I moved, to this fleet progress, through the groups in white-reefed Mardi's zone.
Oh, reader, list! I've chartless voyaged. With compass and the lead, we had not found these Mardian Isles. Those who boldly launch, cast off all cables; and turning from the common breeze, that's fair for all, with their own breath, fill their own sails. Hug the shore, naught new is seen; and "Land ho!" at last was sung, when a new world was sought.
That voyager steered his bark through seas, untracked before; ploughed his own path mid jeers; though with a heart that oft was heavy with the thought, that he might only be too bold, and grope where land was none.
So I.
And though essaying but a sportive sail, I was driven from my course, by a blast resistless; and ill-provided, young, and bowed to the brunt of things before my prime, still fly before the gale;—hard have I striven to keep stout heart.
And if it harder be, than e'er before, to find new climes, when now our seas have oft been circled by ten thousand prows,—much more the glory!
But this new world here sought, is stranger far than his, who stretched his vans from Palos. It is the world of mind; wherein the wanderer may gaze round, with more of wonder than Balboa's band roving through the golden Aztec glades.
But fiery yearnings their own phantom-future make, and deem it present. So, if after all these fearful, fainting trances, the verdict be, the golden haven was not gained;—yet, in bold quest thereof, better to sink in boundless deeps, than float on vulgar shoals; and give me, ye gods, an utter wreck, if wreck I do.
# Mardi/Volume II/Chapter LXVIII

That afternoon was melting down to eve; all but Media broad awake; yet all motionless, as the slumberer upon the purple mat. Sailing on, with open eyes, we slept the wakeful sleep of those, who to the body only give repose, while the spirit still toils on, threading her mountain passes.
King Media's slumbers were like the helmed sentry's in the saddle. From them, he started like an antlered deer, bursting from out a copse. Some said he never slept; that deep within himself he but intensified the hour; or, leaving his crowned brow in marble quiet, unseen, departed to far-off councils of the gods. Howbeit, his lids never closed; in the noonday sun, those crystal eyes, like diamonds, sparkled with a fixed light.
As motionless we thus reclined, Media turned and muttered:—"Brother gods, and demi-gods, it is not well. These mortals should have less or more. Among my subjects is a man, whose genius scorns the common theories of things; but whose still mortal mind can not fathom the ocean at his feet. His soul's a hollow, wherein he raves."
"List, list," whispered Yoomy—"our lord is dreaming; and what a royal dream."
"A very royal and imperial dream," said Babbalanja—"he is arraigning me before high heaven;—ay, ay; in dreams, at least, he deems himself a demi-god."
"Hist," said Mohi—"he speaks again."
"Gods and demi-gods! With one gesture all abysses we may disclose; and before this Mardi's eyes, evoke the shrouded time to come. Were this well? Like lost children groping in the woods, they falter through their tangled paths; and at a thousand angles, baffled, start upon each other. And even when they make an onward move, 'tis but an endless vestibule, that leads to naught. In my own isle of Odo—Odo! Odo! How rules my viceroy there?—Down, down, ye madding mobs! Ho, spearmen, charge! By the firmament, but my halberdiers fly!"
"His dream has changed," said Babbalanja. "He is in Odo, whither his anxieties impel him."
"Hist, hist," said Yoomy.
"I leap upon the soil! Render thy account, Almanni! Where's my throne? Mohi, am I not a king? Do not thy chronicles record me? Yoomy, am I not the soul of some one glorious song? Babbalanja, speak.—Mohi! Yoomy!"
"What is it, my lord? thou dost but dream."
Staring wildly; then calmly gazing round, Media smiled. "Ha! how we royalties ramble in our dreams! I've told no secrets?"
"While he seemed to sleep, my lord spoke much," said Mohi.
"I knew it not, old man; nor would now; but that ye tell me."
"We dream not ourselves," said Babbalanja, "but the thing within us."
"Ay?—good-morrow Azzageddi!—But come; no more dreams: Vee-Vee! wine."
And straight through that livelong night, immortal Media plied the can.
# Mardi/Volume II/Chapter LXXIV

Next day, a fearful sight!
As in Sooloo's seas, one vast water-spout will, sudden, form: and whirling, chase the flying Malay keels; so, before a swift-winged cloud, a thousand prows sped by, leaving braided, foaming wakes; their crowded inmates' arms, in frenzied supplications wreathed; like tangled forest-boughs.
"See, see," cried Yoomy, "how the Death-cloud flies! Let us dive down in the sea."
"Nay," said Babbalanja. "All things come of Oro; if we must drown, let Oro drown us."
"Down sails: drop paddles," said Media: "here we float."
Like a rushing bison, sweeping by, the Death-cloud grazed us with its foam; and whirling in upon the thousand prows beyond, sudden burst in deluges; and scooping out a maelstrom, dragged down every plank and soul.
Long we rocked upon the circling billows, which expanding from that center, dashed every isle, till, moons after-ward, faint, they laved all Mardi's reef.
"Thanks unto Oro," murmured Mohi, "this heart still beats."
That sun-flushed eve, we sailed by many tranquil harbors, whence fled those thousand prows. Serene, the waves ran up their strands; and chimed around the unharmed stakes of palm, to which the thousand prows that morning had been fastened.
"Flying death, they ran to meet it," said Babbalanja. "But 'tie not that they fled, they died; for maelstroms, of these harbors, the Death-cloud might have made. But they died, because they might not longer live. Could we gain one glimpse of the great calendar of eternity, all our names would there be found, glued against their dates of death. We die by land, and die by sea; we die by earthquakes, famines, plagues, and wars; by fevers, agues; woe, or mirth excessive. This mortal air is one wide pestilence, that kills us all at last. Whom the Death-cloud spares, sleeping, dies in silent watches of the night. He whom the spears of many battles could not slay, dies of a grape-stone, beneath the vine-clad bower he built, to shade declining years. We die, because we live. But none the less does Babbalanja quake. And if he flies not, 'tis because he stands the center of a circle; its every point a leveled dart; and every bow, bent back:—a twang, and Babbalanja dies."
# Men-at-the-Bar/Amedroz, Henry Frederick

​Amedroz, Henry Frederick, equity draftsman and conveyancer, matric. London Univ. 1878, a student of the Inner Temple 29 April, 1878 (then aged 23), 2nd class honours 1880, called to the bar 26 Jan., 1882 (eldest son of Henry Frederick Amedroz, Esq., of London); born , 1855.
    13, Blandford Square, N.W.; 7, New Square, W.C.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Amiruddin, (Sheikh)

​Amiruddin (Sheikh), LL.B. Bombay Univ., passed the Moonseff (subordinate judges') examination, practises before the High Court at Allahabad, a student of Lincoln's Inn 15 Nov., 1875 (then aged 35), called to the bar 3 July, 1878 (eldest son of Sheikh Nhunnoo Mega, of Bombay); born , 1840.
    Allahabad, N.W.P. India.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Alston, Hugh

​Alston, Hugh, undergraduate Oriel Coll., Oxon, a student of Lincoln's Inn 6 March, 1880 (then aged 22), called to the bar 26 Jan., 1883 (5th son of Rev. Edward Constable Alston, late rector of Dennington, Suffolk); born 1858.
    60, Longridg Road, S.W.; 3, New Square, Lincoln's Inn, W.C.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Alston, Vere Speke

​Alston, Vere Speke, B.A. Pembroke Coll., Oxon, practises before the High Court at Umballa, India, a student of Lincoln's Inn 5 Nov., 1875, called to the bar 3 July, 1878 (2nd son of Crewe Alston, Esq., of Odell Castle, Beds); born , .
    7, Brunswick Terrace, Kensington, W.; Umballa.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Ambrose, William

​Ambrose, William, Q.C., matric. London Univ. 1849, a student of Lincoln's Inn 7 Nov., 1856 (then aged 24), certificate of honour Jan., 1859, called to the bar 26 Jan., 1859, admitted a barrister of the Middle Temple ad eundem 6 Jan., 1869, Q.C. 6 July, 1874, bencher Middle Temple 20 May, 1881 (only son of Richard Ambrose, late of Chester, gentleman, dec.); born , 1832; married 1 Sept., 1866, Mary Anne, youngest dau. of late William Jones, of Camden Town, London.
    West Heath Road, Hampstead; 3, Plowden Buildings, Temple, E.C.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Ameer, Ali (Hon. Syed)

​Ameer, Ali (Hon. Syed), M.A., chief magistrate Calcutta, a member of Legislative Council of governor-general of India 1884, lecturer Mahommedan law in Bengal Presidency Coll., author of The Personal Law of the Mahommedans, a student of the Inner Temple 2 May, 1870 (then aged 22), called to the bar 27 Jan., 1873 (4th son of Syed Saadad, Ali, Khan Bahadoor, late of Hooghly, Bengal); born , 1848; married 21 Oct., 1884, Isabelle, 2nd dau. of H. Kohnstamm, of London.
    Calcutta.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Amory, George Henry

​Amory, George Henry, undergraduate Caius Coll., Camb., a student of the Inner Temple 2 Nov., 1850 (then aged 24), called to the bar 6 June, 1853 (only son of George Parminter Amory, of Exeter, surgeon); born , 1826.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Alston, Gilbert Rowland

​Alston, Gilbert Rowland, M.A., St. John's Coll., Camb., 1884, LL.B. 1883, a student of the Inner Temple 6 Jan., 1882 (then aged 22), scholarship real property law July, 1883, called to the bar 17 Nov., 1884 (eldest son of late Rev. Albert Alston, of London, D.D.); born , 1860.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Amherst, Hon. Josceline George Herbert

​Amherst, Hon. Josceline George Herbert, went South-eastern circuit, private secretary to Governor of Fiji 1881, a student of the Inner Temple 12 Jan., 1871, called to the bar 30 April, 1874 (5th son of William Pitt, 2nd Earl Amherst); born 7 June, 1846 (see Foster's Peerage).
    43, Grosvenor Square, W.; 3, Temple Gardens, E.C.
# Men-at-the-Bar/Amherst, Rev. William Joseph

​Amherst, Rev. William Joseph, Roman Catholic priest, educated at St. Mary's Coll., Oscott, a student of the Middle Temple 28 May, 1839, called to the bar 24 Nov., 1843 (2nd son of William Kerril Amherst, Esq., of Kenilworth, co. Warwick, dec.); born 17 July, 1820.
    Fieldgate House, Kenilworth.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1876/My Little Woman

Originally published in Good Words.
A homely cottage, quaint and old, Its thatch grown thick with green and gold,  And wind-sown grasses; Unchanged it stands in sun and rain, And seldom through the quiet lane  A footstep passes.
Yet here my little woman dwelt, And saw the shroud of winter melt  From meads and fallows; And heard the yellow-hammer sing A tiny welcome to the spring  From budding sallows.
She saw the early morning sky Blush with a tender wild-rose dye  Above the larches; And watched the crimson sunset burn Behind the summer plumes of fern  In woodland arches.
My little woman, gone away To that far land which knows, they say,  No more sun-setting! I wonder if her gentle soul, Securely resting at the goal,  Has learnt forgetting?
My heart wakes up, and cries in vain; She gave me love, I gave her pain  While she was living; I knew not when her spirit fled, But those who stood beside her, said  She died forgiving.
My dove has found a better rest, And yet I love the empty nest  She left neglected; I tread the very path she trod, And ask, — in her new home with God  Am I expected?
If it were but the Father's will To let me know she loves me still,  This aching sorrow Would turn to hope, and I could say, Perchance she whispers day by day,  "He comes to-morrow."
I linger in the silent lane, And high above the clover plain  The clouds are riven; Across the fields she used to know The light breaks, and the wind sighs low,  "Loved and forgiven."
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1877/De Profundis

Originally published in Nineteenth Century.
De Profundis
Two Greetings
 I. Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep, Where all that was. to be in all that was Whirl'd for a million æons thro' the vast Waste dawn of multitudinous-eddying light —
Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep, Thro' all this changing world of changeless law, And every phase of ever-heightening life, And nine long months of antenatal gloom, With this last moon, this crescent — her dark orb Touch'd with earth's light — thou comest, darling boy; Our own; a babe in lineament and limb Perfect, and prophet of the perfect man; Whose face and form are hers and mine in one, Indissolubly married like our love; Live and be happy in thyself, and serve This mortal race thy kin so well that men May bless thee as we bless thee, O young life Breaking with laughter from the dark, and may The fated channel where thy motion lives Be prosperously shaped, and sway thy course Along the years of haste and random youth Unshatter'd, then full-current thro' full man, And last in kindly curves, with gentlest fall, By quiet fields, a slowly-dying power, To that last deep where we and thou are still.
 II.  1 Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep, From that great deep before our world begins Whereon the Spirit of God moves as he will — Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep, From that true world within the world we see, Whereof our world is but the hounding shore — Out of the deep, spirit, out of the deep, With this ninth moon that sends the hidden sun Down yon dark sea, thou comest, darling boy.
 2 For in the world, which is not ours, they said "Let us make man," and that which should be man, From that one light no man can look upon, Drew to this shore lit by the suns and moons And all the shadows. O dear spirit half-lost In thine own shadow and this fleshly sign That thou art thou — who wailest being born And banish'd into mystery, and the pain Of this divisible-indivisible world Among the numerable-innumerable Sun, sun, and sun, thro' finite-infinite space In finite-infinite time — our mortal veil And shatter'd phantom of that infinite One, Who made thee unconceivably thyself Out of his whole world-self and all in all — Live thou, and of the grain and husk, the grape And ivyberry, choose; and still depart From death to death thro' life and life, and find Nearer and ever nearer Him who wrought Not matter, nor the finite-infinite, But this main miracle, that thou art thou, With power on thine own act and on the world.
The Human Cry.
 I. Hallowed be thy name — Halleluiah! — Infinite Ideality! Immeasurable Reality! Infinite Personality! Hallowed be Thy name — Halleluiah!
 II. We feel we are nothing — for all is Thou and in Thee; We feel we are something — that also has come from Thee; We are nothing, O Thou — but thou wilt help us to be. Hallowèd be thy name — Halleluiah!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1869/Definition of the Color Indigo

Originally published in Nature.
Newton denoted by the name of "indigo" the tint of the spectrum lying between "blue" and "violet." Von Bezold, in his work on color, rejects the term, justifying his objection by observing that the pigment indigo is a much darker hue than the spectrum tint. Prof. O. N. Rood, who follows Von Bezold in rejecting the term, brings forward the further objection that the tint of the pigment indigo more nearly corresponds in hue (though it is darker) with the cyan-blue region lying between green and blue. By comparing the tints of indigo pigment, both dry and wet, with the spectrum, and by means of Maxwell’s disks, it appears that the hue of indigo is almost identical with that of Prussian blue, and certainly does not lie on the violet side of "blue." Indigo in the dry lump, if scraped, has, however, a more violet tint; but if fractured or powdered, or dissolved, its tint is distinctly greenish. Prof. Rood considers that artificial ultramarine corresponds much more nearly to the true tint of the spectrum at the point usually termed "indigo," and he therefore proposes to substitute the term "ultramarine" in its place, the color of the artificial pigment being thereby intended.
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1876/Entering in

The church was dim and silent  With the hush before the prayer, Only the solemn trembling  Of the organ stirred the air; Without, the sweet, still sunshine,  Within, the holy calm, Where priest and people waited  For the swelling of the psalm.
Slowly the door swung open  And a little baby girl, Brown-eyed, with brown hair falling  In many a wavy curl, With soft cheeks flushing hotly,  Shy glances downward thrown, And small hands clasped before her,  Stood in the aisle alone.
Stood half abashed, half frightened,  Unknowing where to go, While like a wind-rocked flower,  The form swayed to and fro; And the changing color fluttered  In the little troubled face, As from side to side she wavered  With a mute, imploring grace.
It was but for a moment;  What wonder that we smiled; By such a strange, sweet picture  From holy thoughts beguiled? When up rose some one softly,  And many an eye grew dim, As through the tender silence  He bore the child with him.
And I — I wondered (losing  The sermon and the prayer) If when sometime I enter  The "many mansions" fair, And stand abashed and drooping  In the portals' golden glow, Our God will send an angel  To show me where to go!
# Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1877/Ode to Augustus

Originally published in Spectator.
[We fear, from the last volume of his "Life of the Prince Consort," that Mr. Martin himself would not consider this lively translation of his as opportune as it seems to us. But whether he be willing or unwilling, many will he glad to make use of his words.]
 From gods benign descended, thou,  Best guardian of the fates of Rome,  Too long already from thy home  Hast thou, dear chief, been absent now.
 Oh, then, return, the pledge redeem  Thou gav'st the Senate, and once more  Its light to all the land restore;  For when thy face, like spring-tide's gleam,
 Its brightness on the people sheds,  Then glides the day more sweetly by,  A brighter blue pervades the sky,  The sun a richer radiance spreads!
 As on her boy the mother calls, —  Her boy, whom envious tempests keep  Beyond the vexed Carpathian deep,  From his dear home, till winter falls,
 And still with vow and prayer she cries,  Still gazes on the winding shore, —  So yearns the country evermore  For Cæsar, with fond, wistful eyes.
 For safe the herds range field and fen,  Full-headed stand the shocks of grain,  Our sailors sweep the peaceful main,  And man can trust his fellow-men.
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 145/Issue 1876/The Poetry of a Root-Crop

Originally published in Macmillan's Magazine.
Underneath their eider-robe Russet swede and golden globe, Feathered carrot, burrowing deep, Steadfast wait in charmèd sleep; Treasure-houses wherein lie, Locked by angels' alchemy, Milk and hair, and blood, and bone, Children of the barren stone; Children of the flaming Air, With his blue eye keen and bare, Spirit-peopled, smiling down On frozen field and boiling town — Boiling town that will not heed God his voice for rage and greed; Frozen fields that surpliced lie, Gazing patient at the sky; Like some marble carven nun, With folded hands when work is done, Who mute upon her tomb doth pray, Till the resurrection day.
 Nov. 25 1845.
# Mandeville v. Canterbury

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
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United States Supreme Court
318 U.S. 47
Mandeville v. Canterbury
Argued: Jan. 13, 1943. --- Decided: Feb 1, 1943
Miss Corinne L. Rice, of Chicago, Ill., for petitioners.
Mr. Herbert R. Tews, of Chicago, Ill., for respondent.
PER CURIAM.

## 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
# Mandelbaum v. United States/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
270 U.S. 7
Mandelbaum v. United States
Argued: Jan. 15, 1926. --- Decided: Jan 25, 1926
This is a suit brought in the District Court under its jurisdiction concurrent with the Court of Claims (Judicial Code, § 24, twentieth; Act of March 3, 1911, c. 231, 36 Stat. 1087 (Comp. St. § 991)) to recover on War Saving Certificates with stamps attached, issued under the Acts of September 24, 1917, c. 56, § 6, 40 Stat. 288, 291, and of September 24, 1918, c. 176, § 2, 40 Stat. 965, 966 (Comp. St. 1918, Comp. St. Ann. Supp. 1919, § 6829l). The certificates fell due on January 1, 1923, but were stolen in the preceding year. They bore the name of the plaintiff or of different members of his family who had transferred their claim to him, but they were not registered. The plaintiff offers to give a sufficient bond of indemnity. The bill was dismissed by the District Court and the decree was affirmed by the Circuit Court of Appeals on the ground that the right to recover was excluded by the certificates on their face. 298 F. 295.
The certificates were sheets with blanks for the affixing of stamps issued by the Government for the purpose, face value five dollars each. They were not valid without one stamp affixed, and there were blanks for twenty in all, which could be added from time to time if and when desired. The certificate declared that, subject to the conditions thereon, the owner named on the back would be entitled on January 1, 1923, to receive the amount indicated by the stamps. Among the conditions are provisions for registration and notice that unless registered the United States will not be liable for payment to one not the owner; that upon payment the certificate must be surrendered and a receipt signed by the owner; and that upon satisfactory evidence of the loss of a registered certificate the owner shall be entitled to payment of the registered amount. We agree with the Circuit Court of Appeals that these conditions very plainly imported what on January 21, 1918, was embodied by the Secretary of the Treasury in an authorized regulation, that unregistered certificates would not be paid if lost. There was good reason for the condition. The stamps are undistinguishable one from another. Therefore they could be detached and put upon another certificate, and it would be impossible for the Government to know whether the stolen stamps that gave the value to the certificate had been paid or not. The offer of indemnity was illusory, and the case is not like that of a lost bond. The condition limited the obligation of the Government to pay and until it is complied with the plaintiff must put up with his loss.
Decree affirmed.

## 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