OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Crest Jewel of Wisdom/Notice of Attribution

NOTICE OF ATTRIBUTION
Scanned at sacred-texts.com, November, 2004. Proofed by John Bruno Hare. This text is in the public domain in the US because the copyright was not renewed in a timely fashion as required by law at the time. These files may be used for any non-commercial purpose, provided this notice of attribution is left intact in all copies.
# The Crest Jewel of Wisdom/Preface

THIS little volume with its foundation-stones of Truth is an effort to further the second object of the Theosophical Society as it was originally expressed by H. P. Blavatsky in The Key to Theosophy:
To promote the study of Aryan and other Scriptures, of the World's religion and sciences, and to vindicate the importance of old Asiatic literature, namely, of the Brahmanical, Buddhist, and Zoroastrian philosophies.
The translations herein are reprints from the Oriental Department Papers published by William Quan Judge in 1894, 1895, and 1896, as well as from Judge's Magazine, The Path. In introducing Charles Johnston, then a member of the Theosophical Society, as the translator of the Sanskrit works to be produced in his Oriental Papers, judge writes:
   Of his qualifications there is no doubt, as he has had experience in this field, has also for some time been teaching Sanskrit, and brings to the work a sincere sympathy with Indian thought as well as devotion to the Society which will without question make the matter furnished of value as well as of interest.
In Śankarâchârya (the blessed teacher) we have an example of the statement that "Masters are living facts." Mankind needs such assurance these days, and needs not only the inspiration of the story of a man who has lived divinely, but also his kindly and strengthening words of wisdom. What greater gift could the Hindu sage have left us than that of a collection of soul-stirring thoughts?
For those who, with hearts fervent with compassion, seek the holy path that brings to birth a 'sage of boundless vision,' Śankarâchârya's Crest-Jewel of Wisdom will be a practical and inspiring guide to life. Its teachings, the shared realizations of an enlightened god-man, tell us the laws by which we may 'untie the bonds of unwisdom,' and thus, evermore free, with minds calm and pellucid and hearts purified of reward-desiring actions, come to know and partake of the majestic power, light, and universal kinship of the Divine within us, our birthright as humans, and our passport to grander attainments in vaster spheres of consciousness.
Just as the sun with its splendor and its glories greets us every morning when we awake and silently through the day nourishes us in all parts of our being, and later as it sets at night, leaves a glow of rich color suggesting a spiritual mystery to be grasped somewhere, somehow--maybe in the morn's returning light--so the challenging message of Śankarâchârya's jewel-thoughts braces the spirits of world-weary ones as they turn to its radiant wisdom. They become illumined by the divine fire permeating its words, and as they turn from the study of its verses enriched for another of life's experiences, the glow of the gleaned awakenings will become a haunting memory leading them back to its precepts for another sunrise and sunset of the spirit.
JUDITH TYBERG
Theosophical University
    March, 1946
# The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm (Rackham)/The Fox and the Cat

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
The Fox and the Cat
T happened once that the Cat met Mr. Fox in the wood, and because she thought: ‘He is clever and experienced in all the ways of the world,’ she addressed him in a friendly manner.
‘Good morning, dear Mr. Fox! how are you and how do you get along in these hard times?’
The Fox, full of pride, The Cat crept stealthily up to the topmost branch. looked at the Cat from head to foot for some time hardly knowing whether he would deign to answer or not. At last he said—
‘Oh, you poor whisker-wiper, you piebald fool, you starveling mouse-hunter! what has come into your head? How dare you ask me how I am getting on? What sort of education have you had? How many arts are you master of?’
‘Only one,’ said the Cat, meekly.
‘And what might that one be?’ asked the Fox.
‘When the hounds run after me, I can jump into a tree and save myself.’
‘Is that all?’ said the Fox. ‘I am master of a hundred arts, and I have a sack full of cunning tricks in addition. But ​I pity you. Come with me, and I will teach you how to escape the hounds.’
Just then, a huntsman came along with four hounds. The Cat sprang trembling into a tree, and crept stealthily up to the topmost branch, where she was entirely hidden by twigs and leaves.
‘Open your sack, Mr. Fox! open your sack!’ cried the Cat; but the hounds had gripped him, and held him fast.
‘O Mr. Fox!’ cried the Cat, ‘you with your hundred arts, and your sack full of tricks, are caught, while I, with my one, am safe. Had you been able to climb up here, you would not have lost your life.’
# The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm (Rackham)/The Fox and the Horse

* related authors: Arthur Rackham.
* sister projects: Commons gallery, Commons category, Wikidata item.
The Fox and the Horse
The poor Horse was very sad, and went into the forest to get a little shelter from the wind and weather. There he met a Fox, who said: ‘Why do you hang your head, and wander about in this solitary fashion?’
‘Alas !’ answered the Horse, ‘avarice and honesty cannot live together. My master has forgotten all the service I have done him for these many years, and because I can no longer plough he will no longer feed me, and he has driven me away.’
‘Without any consideration?’ asked the Fox.
‘Only the poor consolation of telling me that if I was strong enough to bring him a Lion he would keep me, but he knows well enough that the task is beyond me.’
The Fox said: ‘But I will help you. Just you lie down here, and stretch your legs out as if you were dead.’ The Horse did as he was told, and the Fox went to the Lion’s den, not far off, and said: ‘There is a dead Horse out there. Come along with me, and you will have a rare meal.’ The Lion went with him, and when they got up to the Horse, the Fox said: ‘You can’t eat it in comfort here. I ’ll tell you what. I will tie it to you, and you can drag it away to your den, and enjoy it at your leisure.’
The plan pleased the Lion, and he stood quite still, close to the Horse, so that the Fox should fasten them together. But the Fox tied the Lion’s legs together with the Horse’s tail, and twisted and knotted it so that it would be quite impossible for it to come undone.
When he had finished his work he patted the Horse on the shoulder, and said: ‘Pull, old Grey! Pull!’
Then the Horse sprang up, and dragged the Lion away behind him. The Lion in his rage roared, so that all the birds in the forest were terrified, and flew away. But the Horse let him roar, and never stopped till he stood before his master’s door.
​When the master saw him he was delighted, and said to him: ‘You shall stay with me, and have a good time as long as you live.’
And he fed him well till he died.
Then the Horse sprang up, and dragged the Lion away behind him.
# The Guardian/1920

Content exists for this periodical, though at this stage it is not specifically organised beyond a basic hierarchy.
The pages listed below are an automatically generated listing.
Special:PrefixIndex/The Guardian/1920/
# The Guardian/1920/04/13/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
April 12.
A clear, loud, trilling whistle, coming from a clump of ancient beeches, pleased but surprised me; it was the spring call of the nuthatch. Perched on a low branch, again and again repeating its signal with bill uplifted, was the grey-backed, chestnut-sided bird; the first of its kind that I had ever seen in the neighbourhood, though forty years ago a few pairs nested annually. In a few minutes an answering call came from the distant trees, and, evidently satisfied, the nuthatch dropped to the foot of a beech and, mouse-like, ran to and fro upon the smooth bole. Round about Chester the bird is not uncommon, and until recently a pair or two occupied trees in Oulton Park, but within a few miles of Manchester it is casual. The return of the nuthatch to its long-forsaken home is a good sign; it pleased me more than the sight of a few swallows, flying with the sand martins, or of a large flock of fieldfares, halting for refreshment on their northward trail, though the fieldfare has been curiously rare this winter.
It did not surprise me to hear that the sandpiper was seen at Alderley on Saturday.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1920/05/28/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
North Wales, May 27.
Burnet rose, one of the choicest flowers of the dunes, creeps amongst the marram, and on the close salt-sprayed turf the blood geranium is fully open. All day and most of the short night the terns call with rasping voices, the conversation of courtship. Pairing centres in a love gift—not an engagement ring, but a fish. One bird, presumably the male, captures a shining silvery sand-eel, and with this dangling from his red bill flies in search of a suitable mate. A female, settled on some wave-washed rock or on the sandy shore, greets him open-mouthed with a long call of welcome, but she does not get his gift too easily. He swings it temptingly before her, then flies off, and after a few wide circles alights again. Still she has not given the sign of acceptance, and away he goes once more. What that sign is he knows, and, it appears, will not deliver the present until she has vowed her vows. Even when at last she seizes the slippery tail he makes a show of resistance, only yielding after a short tug-of-war.
It is a strange performance, hard to interpret; man cannot fathom the psychology of the tern. There are other passages in which both birds strike attitudes, raising their bills skyward and depressing half-open wings, but the fish gift is the act of greatest importance. This is hardly surprising, since the tern's life depends on its ability to capture suitable fish.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1920/07/06/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
July 5.
As a captor of surface-swimming fish the gannet or solan goose is an expert. It flies high above the waves, watching with keen eyes until a herring or mackerel foolishly ventures near to the surface, and then, with half-closed wings, falls headlong through the air and plunges in upon its victim. Gulls usually follow fishing-boats, watching the nets hauled and picking up any bewildered and maimed unfortunate which has struggled through the meshes but fails to get under water; they will, too, wait on the sailing mackerel boats and snatch at the hooked fish when it is being dragged in, and foolishly hook themselves also.
A few days ago some friends of mine were sailing for mackerel off Ramsey, and just when one of them was pulling in they passed a swimming gannet. They saw the hazy blue fish coming reluctantly through the water astern, and the gannet saw it too, but without wasting time to soar and plunge it tried the method of the gull, ducked for the swerving captive, caught it, and rose with fish, hook, and severed gut. If it was feeding young on Ailsa Craig, about a hundred miles away, its white downed infant would find that barbed hook uncomfortable when it plunged its head into the ample gullet of its parent to fish for semi-digested food. The boatman declared that he had never known a gannet steal a hooked fish.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1920/07/23/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
Harris, July 21.
Sundews are ruddy on the peat-bog, each fleshy leaf covered with sensitive hairs, ready to curl over and grip any foolish fly which is tempted to their sticky exudations. Yellow asphodels stand thick – thicker than on a Lancashire moss, – and the green stars of butterwort are everywhere. The wheatear "chacks" as it flits from one grey stone to another, and the linnet twitters as it flies up to the honeysuckle, blooming in a thick cluster on the steep crag.
Suddenly a deep note draws the eye from the plants towards the sky. High overhead two long-necked, long-winged, greylag geese are winging towards the stone-littered mountains across the loch. These, the only true wild geese which nest in Britain, have their sanctuary in the wilds of the deer forest, close to a tarn where the black soil is pitted by the feet of the stags and hinds that come to drink. In winter we may see a few greylags in our English estuaries; or a passing bird may halt upon some inland water, but the true home, where the yellow goslings are reared, is on the Hebridean bog. It is good to see the great birds flying over, to hear their deep-toned voices mingling with the mewing calls of the ever-restless gulls.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1917

Content exists for this periodical, though at this stage it is not specifically organised beyond a basic hierarchy.
The pages listed below are an automatically generated listing.
Special:PrefixIndex/The Guardian/1917/
# The Guardian/1920/06/18/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
June 17.
Where dead and broken stems of old reeds lie thick along the mere margin, some piled on land, others floating raft-like, a female stoat was hunting. She did not notice me, her attention directed towards the water. With easy, sinuous grace she bounded over the floating litter and dodged among the standing green stems; at each waterside alder or willow she paused for a second, reared on her hind legs, sniffing for prey. Bat, mouse, or young coot might be hiding amongst the semi-submerged roots. For some minutes before she came I had been quiet, and a couple of very immature rabbits had emerged from a burrow and were grazing near, nibbling the lush vegetation with mobile lips. But even the keen-eyed, keen-nosed predatory stoat may be at fault, and so intent was the hunter that it failed to glance landward and missed both rabbits and me.
Within a few yards, hanging from a branch, were half a dozen wind-dried, tailless corpses, all of stoats which had been so anxious to investigate every possible hole or tunnel that they had blundered into the cunningly prepared trap in a drainpipe. Sooner or later, this particular stoat will probably join them and lose its black-tipped tail; every tail means vermin money.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1920/07/16/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
July 15.
At the close of these long July days, before the light has really faded, pipistrelle bats fly in swift circles round the trees or flicker to and fro amongst houses and outbuildings, hunting crepuscular flies, beetles, and moths. Their mammalian flight is quite distinct from that of birds, for they have a much simpler wing, merely a great hand with its long fingers united by membrane. They beat the air with this widespread hand, dodging to and fro. The bigger noctule flies higher, joining the swifts before they have retired for the night; its action is similar but its flight more direct than that of smaller bats. It cannot compete with the swift in speed, but it makes wonderful dives and snaps up even quick-flying beetles.
The yellow flower from the Little Orme, sent by a Bournville correspondent, is the kidney-vetch or Lady’s fingers, a useful plant in pastures, quite wholesome for cattle. The colour varies considerably, some flowers being tinged with red or orange. The other plant, from the Great Orme, is the small-flowered crane's-bill or geranium.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Guardian/1920/10/15/Country Diary

Part of the Country Diary series.
A Country Diary.
October 14.
However much some insects and birds, and a few mammals, man included, have suffered from the wet, unseasonable summer, certain others appear to have benefited, and amongst them the red admiral butterfly. The abundance of red admirals during the past very delightful fortnight must have attracted the attention of all who are out and about in the sunshine. We see it sailing across the road or garden with an easy, floating flight, varied by occasional strong wing-beats, much more purposeful than the inconsequent flitter of the whites and many other flies. It alights upon showy flower—
where he clings  To close and open shuddering wings  With borders splendid
To favoured plants one after another will come, frightening off the banded hover-fly and the heavy, bee-like dronefly. Recently in one Delamere garden the red admirals were joined by a comma butterfly, very rare in Cheshire, and to-day I hear of another at Baguley. Its beautiful browns, naturally jagged wing-edges, and the white C on its underwing, from which it gets its specific name attracted attention.
The snow bunting, a winter visitor, has appeared on the Cheshire shore. Though a few pairs nest on the highest Scottish mountains, most of our visitors are immigrants from Scandinavia; they seldom appear in the cultivated lowlands, but spend their winter on the hills or along the tide-line and on the saltings. The white wing-patch on a stuffed snow bunting looks very conspicuous, but on sand and shingle the bird is nearly as invisible as on the snow-flecked rocks of its summer home. We must see a bird alive and in its natural environment to realise the value of markings or colouration.
T.A.C.
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 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 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 Crimson Plume

from The Female Prose Writers of America: With Portraits, Biographical Notices, and Specimens of their Writings
the crimson plume.
Oh! know ye the knight of the red waving plume? Lo! his lightning smile gleams through the battle’s wild gloom, Like a flash through the tempest; oh! fly from that smile! ’Tis the wild-fire of fury—it glows to beguile! And his sword-wave is death, and his war-cry is doom! Oh! brave not the knight of the dark crimson plume!
His armour is black, as the blackest midnight; His steed like the ocean-foam, spotlessly white; His crest a crouched tiger, who dreams of fierce joy— Its motto “Beware! for I wake to destroy!” And his sword-wave is death, and his war-cry is doom! Oh! brave not the knight of the dark crimson plume!
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
# The Crimson Standard

Published in Appeal to Reason, 1905
A vast amount of ignorant prejudice prevails against the red flag. It is easily accounted for. The ruling class the wide world over hates it, and its sycophants, therefore, must decry it.
Strange that the red flag should produce the same effect upon a tyrant that it does upon a bull.
The bull is enraged at the very sight of the red flag, his huge frame quivers, his eyes become balls of fire, and he paws the dirt and snorts with fury.
The reason for this peculiar effect of a bit of red coloring upon the bovine species we are not particularly interested in at this moment, but why does it happen to excite the same rage in the czar, the emperor and the king; the autocrat, the aristocrat and the plutocrat?
Ah, that is simple enough.
The red flag, since time immemorial, has symbolized the discontent of the downtrodden, the revolt of the rabble.
That is its sinister significance to the tyrant and the reason of his mingled fear and frenzy when the "red rag," as he characterizes it, insults his vision.
It is not that he is opposed to red as a color, or even as an emblem, for he has it in his own flags and banners, and it never inflames his passion when it is blended with other colors; but red alone, unmixed and unadulterated, the pure red that symbolizes the common blood of the human family, the equality of mankind, the brotherhood of the race, is repulsive and abhorrent to him because it is at once an impeachment of his title, a denial of his superiority and a menace to his power.
Precisely for the reason that the plutocrat raves at the red flag the proletaire should revere it.
To the plutocrat it is a peril; to the proletaire a promise.
The red flag is an omen of ill, a sign of terror to every tyrant, every robber and every vampire that sucks the life of labor and mocks at its misery.
It is an emblem of hope, a bow of promise to all the oppressed and downtrodden of the earth.
The red flag is the only race flag; it is the flag of revolt against robbery; the flag of the working class, the flag of hope and high resolve - the flag of Universal Freedom.
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 1926, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 97 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