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# The Times/1910/Obituary/Alfred Henry Huth

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Source: Obituary. The Times, Tuesday, Oct 18, 1910; pg. 11; Issue 39406; col C — Mr. A. H. Huth.
Mr. A. H. Huth
Mr. Alfred Henry Huth, the bibliophile and owner of the magnificent and early printed books gathered by his father, Mr. Henry Huth died at his Wiltshire residence, Fosbury Manor, on Friday last.
He was the second son of Mr. Henry Huth, and was born in London in 1850. His parents were close friends of Henry Thomas Buckle, the historian, and when he and his two brothers were at school at Mr. Capel's, at Carshalton, Buckle stayed there for a time and became very friendly with them. When Alfred Huth was 11 and his brother Edward 14, Buckle offered to take them to Egypt, and this offer was accepted. Buckle took with him only the Bible, Shakespeare, Molière, and a few books about Egypt, calculating that the boys would be forced to read them for want of other distraction. The party after visiting Egypt went for a tour through Palestine. At Jerusalem Buckle contracted typhoid fever, and eventually died at Damascus. Mr. A. H. Huth was Buckle's biographer—"The Life and Writings of Henry Thomas Buckle" is his chief literary work. His other work included "The Marriage of Near Kin," "Speculum Humanae Salvationis," Goethe's Faustus in English verse, and "Adventures of Matthew Dudgeon."
Alfred Huth continued his education at Rugby and Berlin University, the family's connexion with German being close. He became a partner in the great firm of City merchants, Frederick Huth and Co., founded by his grandfather in the beginning of last century, and a director of the Alliance Assurance Company. Besides this he was a considerable landowner in Wiltshire. He was a man of remarkable attainments in various directions; and though of a very shy mature was most genial among his intimate friends. A keen critic of the present tendency of land legislation, he was a frequent contributor on the subject to The Times up to a recent period. He kept up the famous library and added to it; he also produced a large part of the important Catalogue of the Huth Library and saw it through the press.
Mr. Huth married his cousin Octavia Huth in 1872. His funeral takes place to-morrow at Fosbury, Wiltshire.
This work was published in 1910 and is anonymous or pseudonymous due to unknown authorship. It is in the public domain in the United States as well as countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 113 years or less since publication.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1909/Public notice/Edward Henry Marshall

Edward Henry Marshall (1850-1909) Source: Death. The Times, Monday, Sep 13, 1909; Issue 39063; pg. 1; col B
Layout 2MARSHALL.—On the 10th Sept., 1909, at St. Leonards-on-Sea, Sussex, Edward Henry Marshall, and of Sandford St. Martin, Oxon. son of the late Revd. Edward Marshall, of Sandford, St. Martin, Oxon. aged 58 years.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Times/1910

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 Times/1910/
# The Times/1910/News/Privy Councillor - George Herbert Murray

George Herbert Murray (1849-1936) Source: The Times, Friday, Jun 24, 1910; Issue 39307; pg. 9; col A — Birthday Honours.
Layout 2
Birthday Honours.
Privy Councillors.
His Majesty has been pleased to direct that the following be sworn of his Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council :—
... Sir George Herbert Murray, G.C.B. Permanent Secretary to the Treasury since 1903; Private Secretary to Mr. Gladstone and Lord Rosebery during their Administrations; Chairman of the Board of Inland Revenue from 1897 to 1899; and Secretary to the Post Office from 1899 to 1903; created K.C.B. in 1899 and G.C.B. in 1908.
This work is ineligible for copyright and therefore in the public domain, because it consists entirely of information that is common property and contains no original authorship.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The World Set Free

First US edition in 1914 by E.P. Dutton and Company. The book was also published in the UK that year by Macmillan & Co.
THE WORLD SET FREE
H.G. WELLS
THE
WORLD SET FREE
A STORY OF MANKIND
BY H. G. WELLS
NEW YORK E·P·DUTTON & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1914 By H. G. Wells
Printed in the United States of America
TO FREDERICK SODDY'S INTERPRETATION OF RADIUM THIS STORY WHICH OWES LONG PASSAGES TO HIS ELEVENTH CHAPTER ACKNOWLEDGES AND INSCRIBES ITSELF
CONTENTS
PRELUDE :
| | PAGE |
| The Sun Snarers | 11 |
| CHAPTER THE FIRST ||
| The New Source of Energy | 40 |
| CHAPTER THE SECOND ||
| The Last War | 89 |
| CHAPTER THE THIRD ||
| The Ending of the War | 149 |
| CHAPTER THE FOURTH ||
| The New Phase | 210 |
| CHAPTER THE FIFTH ||
| The Last Days of Marcus Karenin | 265 |
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 1946, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 77 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 Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Andrew Michael Ramsay to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM CHEVALIER RAMSAY.
MR. Hook having acquainted me with what goodness and patience you have been pleased to examine a performance of mine, I take this occasion to make my acknowledgments. Nothing could flatter ​me more sensibly than your approbation. To acquire the esteem of persons of your merit, is the principal advantage I could wish for by becoming an author, and more than I could flatter myself with. I should be proud of receiving your commands, if I could be any way useful to you in this part of the world; where, I assure you, your reputation is as well established as in your own country. I am with the utmost regard and esteem, reverend sir, your most humble, and most obliged, obedient servant,
A. RAMSAY.
* ↑ Endorsed by the dean, "Scotch author in France."
* ↑ The Travels of Cyrus.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Anne Acheson to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM LADY ACHESON.
1732.
I AM greatly surprised at the account you give me of poor Mrs. ——; but since it was so, I am heartily glad she has got rid of it. Mrs. Morris's gout seized her all over on Thursday, so that she keeps her bed. None of them know any thing of this matter: they sent a boy yesterday to Delginney (I will not mention this thing to them till he returns) to let them know she was not able to go to the country. I am sorry that you mend but a little: this bad weather has increased my cough; the milk agrees very well with me. I will be at your church to morrow. I am, yours, &c.
SATURDAY MORNING.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Catherine Jones to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM LADY CATHERINE JONES.
JUNE 15, 1732.
THE return of my humble thanks to Mr. dean by the date it bears, looks more like a slumber of ​gratitude, than the quick sense of that rare virtue which I owe to you, sir, for the trouble you have so willingly undertaken, in executing what I so much desired; since the manner you have done it in, answers my wishes in every respect. The proposal you made, I acquainted my sister Kildare, and niece Fanny Coningsby with; for I being but one part of the family, cannot act farther than they will consent, which is, that they will settle twenty shillings per year, that you may never be liable to any more trouble upon the same occasion.
I need not inform Mr. dean, that the world teaches us, that relations and friends look like two different species: and though I have the honour to be allied to my lord Burlington, yet since the death of my good father and his the notice he takes of me, is, as if I was a separated blood; or else, I am vain enough to say, we are sprung from one ancestor, whose ashes keep up a greater lustre than those who are not reduced to it.
I cannot conclude without saying, that were I worthy in any way to have the pleasure of seeing dean Swift, I do not know any passion, even envy would not make innocent, in my ambition of seeing the author of so much wit and judicious writing, as I have had the advantage to reap. Your most humble and obliged servant,
CATHERINE JONES.
Your opinion of Mr. French is just, and his due.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Catherine Jones to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM LADY CATHERINE JONES.
I RECEIVED the favour of your letter the 22d of May, and own my obligation to Mr. dean for the information of the decay of my grandfather's monument in the cathedral church of St. Patrick. ​Mr. French, the present receiver of my father's estate, will be, some time next month, in that kingdom, whom I have ordered to wait upon you for your direction in that affair; in which, when he has informed me of the expense, I shall immediately give directions to have it done, agreeably to the desire of the dean and chapter, as well as the duty due to the memory of my grandfather, without adding farther trouble to Mr. dean, from his most humble and obedient servant,
CATHERINE JONES.
* ↑ Daughter of Richard, earl of Ranelagh.
* ↑ A monument erected to the memory of archbishop Jones, and his son, lord viscount Ranelagh. It was then in a ruinous condition; but repaired by the order of this lady. See another letter June 15, 1732.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Andrew Michael Ramsay to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM CHEVALIER RAMSAY.
ONE of the greatest pleasures I proposed to my self in a journey to England, was that of seeing you at London; and it is a very sensible mortification to me to find myself disappointed in so agreeable an expectation. It is now many years since I had the highest esteem of your genius and writings; and when I was very young, I found in some of them certain ideas, that prepared me for relishing those principles of universal religion, which I have since endeavoured to unfold in Cyrus. I could not let our common friend Mr. Lesley go back to Ireland, without seizing the opportunity of acknowledging the obliging zeal you have shown to make my work esteemed. Such marks of friendship do me a great deal of honour as well as pleasure, and I hope I have a thorough sense of them. As I have much enlarged my book, I am going to publish a new edition by subscription. I have given a hundred copies of the proposals to our friend, and flatter myself, that I may count upon the continuation of ​your friendship. I am, with great respect, sir; your most obliged and most obedient humble servant,
A. RAMSAY.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Alexander Pope to Thomas Sheridan - 2

MR. POPE TO DR. SHERIDAN.
SIR,
I THANK you kindly for your news of the dean of St. Patrick's, for your Persius, for every thing in your letter. I will use my warmest endeavours to serve Dr. Whaley. Beside his own merit, the demerit of his antagonist goes into the scale, and the dean tells me he is a coadjutant of that fool Smedley. You must have seen, but you cannot have read, what he has lately published against our friend and me. The only pleasure a bad writer can give me, he has given, that of being abused with my betters and my friends. I am much pleased with most of the Intelligencers, but I am a little piqued at the author of them for not once doing me the honour of a mention upon so honourable an occasion as being slandered by the dunces, together with my friend the dean, who is properly the author of the Dunciad: it had never been writ but at his request, and for his deafness: for had he been able to converse with me, do you think I had amused my time so ​ill? I will not trouble you with amendments to so imperfect an edition as is now published; you will soon see a better, with a full and true commentary, setting all mistakes right, and branding none but our own cattle. Some very good epigrams on the gentlemen of the Dunciad have been sent me from Oxford, and others of the London authors: if I had an amanuensis (which is a thing neither I nor my common trifles are worth) you should have them with this. If your university or town have produced any on this subject, pray send them me, or keep them at least together, for another day they may all meet.
I have writ to the dean just now by Mr. Elrington, who charges himself with this, and have inserted a hint or two of his libelling the lady of the family; in as innocent a manner as he does it, he will hardly suspect I had any information of it.
Though I am a very ill correspondent, I shall at all times be glad to have the favour of a line from you. My eyesight is bad, my head often in pain, my time strangely taken up. Were I my own master (which, I thank God, I yet am, in all points but one, where humanity only constrains me) I would infallibly see Ireland before I die. But whether that, or many other of my little, though warm designs, will ever take effect,
Caliginosa nocte premit Deus!
I am (wherever I am) the dean's, and the dean's friends, and consequently faithfully, sir,
Your affectionate servant,
A. POPE.
# The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems/The Lost Star

THE LOST STAR.
A light is gone from yonder sky,  A star has left its sphere; The beautiful—and do they die  In yon bright world as here? Will that star leave a lonely place,  A darkness on the night?— No; few will miss its lovely face,  And none think heaven less bright!
What wert thou star of?—vanished one!  What mystery was thine? Thy beauty from the east is gone:  What was thy sway and sign?
Wert thou the star of opening youth?—  And is it then for thee, Its frank glad thoughts, its stainless truth,  So early cease to be?
Of hope?—and was it to express  How soon hope sinks in shade; Or else of human loveliness,  In sign how it will fade? How was thy dying? like the song,  In music to the last, An echo flung the winds among,  And then for ever past?
Or didst thou sink as stars whose light  The fair moon renders vain?
The rest shone forth the next dark night,  Thou didst not shine again. Didst thou fade gradual from the time  The first great curse was hurled, Till lost in sorrow and in crime,  Star of our early world?
Forgotten and departed star!  A thousand glories shine Round the blue midnight's regal car,  Who then remembers thine? Save when some mournful bard like me  Dreams over beauty gone, And in the fate that waited thee,  Reads what will be his own.
# The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems/The Moon

MOON.
The Moon is sailing o'er the sky,  But lonely all, as if she pined For somewhat of companionship,  And felt it was in vain she shined:
Earth is her mirror, and the stars  Are as the court around her throne; She is a beauty and a queen;  But what is this? she is alone.
Is there not one—not one—to share  Thy glorious royalty on high?
I cannot choose but pity thee,
 Thou lovely orphan of the sky.
I'd rather be the meanest flower
 That grows, my mother Earth, on thee, So there were others of my kin,  To blossom, bloom, droop, die with me.
Earth, thou hast sorrow, grief, and death;  But with these better could I bear, Than reach and rule yon radiant sphere,  And be a Solitary there.
# The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems/The Legacy of the Lute

THE LEGACY OF THE LUTE.
Come, take the lute—the lute I loved,  'Tis all I have to offer thee; And may it be less fatal gift  Than it has ever been to me. My sigh yet lingers on the strings,  The strings I have not heart to break: Wilt thou not, dearest! keep the lute  For mine—for the departed's sake?
But, pray thee, do not wake that lute;  Leave it upon the cypress tree; I would have crushed its charmed chords,  But they so oft were strung to thee.
The minstrel-lute! oh, touch it not,  Or weary destiny is thine! Thy life a twilight's haunted dream—  Thou, victim, at an idol's shrine.
Thy breath but lives on others' lips—  Thy hope, a thing beyond the grave,— Thy heart, bare to the vulture's beak—  Thyself a bound and barter'd slave. And yet a dangerous charm o'er all,  A bright but ignis-fatuus flame, Luring thee with a show of power,  Dazzling thee with a blaze of fame.
It is to waste on careless hearts  The throbbing music of thine own;
To speak love's burning words, yet be  Alone—ay, utterly alone. I sought to fling my laurel wreath  Away upon the autumn wind: In vain,—'twas like those poison'd crowns  Thou may'st not from the brow unbind.
Predestined from my birth to feed  On dreams, yet watch those dreams depart; To bear through life—to feel in death—  A burning and a broken heart. Then hang it on the cypress bough,  The minstrel-lute I leave to thee; And be it only for the wind  To wake its mournful dirge for me.
# The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems/The Little Shroud

Inspired by the Brothers Grimm's story "The Little Shroud", as translated by William John Thoms in The Original (3 March 1832)
THE LITTLE SHROUD.
She put him on a snow-white shroud,  A chaplet on his head; And gather'd early primroses  To scatter o'er the dead.
She laid him in his little grave—  'Twas hard to lay him there, When spring was putting forth its flowers,  And every thing was fair.
She had lost many children—now  The last of them was gone; And day and night she sat and wept  Beside the funeral stone.
One midnight, while her constant tears  Were falling with the dew, She heard a voice, and lo! her child  Stood by her weeping too!
His shroud was damp, his face was white:  He said,—"I cannot sleep, Your tears have made my shroud so wet;  Oh, mother, do not weep!"
Oh, love is strong!—the mother's heart  Was filled with tender fears; Oh, love is strong!—and for her child  Her grief restrained its tears.
One eve a light shone round her bed,  And there she saw him stand— Her infant, in his little shroud,  A taper in his hand.
"Lo! mother, see my shroud is dry,  And I can sleep once more!" And beautiful the parting smile  The little infant wore.
And down within the silent grave  He laid his weary head; And soon the early violets  Grew o'er his grassy bed.
The mother went her household ways—  Again she knelt in prayer, And only asked of Heaven its aid  Her heavy lot to bear.
# The Vow of the Peacock and Other Poems/The Minstrel’s Monitor

THE MINSTREL'S MONITOR.
Silent and dark as the source of yon river,  Whose birth-place we know not, and seek not to know, Though wild as the flight of the shaft from yon quiver,  Is the course of its waves as in music they flow.
The lily flings o'er it its silver white blossom,  Like ivory barks which a fairy hath made; The rose o'er it bends with its beautiful bosom,  As though 'twere enamour'd itself of its shade.
The sunshine, like Hope, in its noontide hour slumbers  On the stream, as it loved the bright place of its rest;
And its waves pass in song, as the sea shell's soft numbers  Had given to those waters their sweetest and best.
The banks that surround it are flower-dropt and sunny;  There the first birth of violets' odour-showers weep— There the bee heaps his earliest treasure of honey,  Or sinks in the depths of the harebell to sleep.
Like prisoners escaped during night from their prison,  The waters fling gaily their spray to the sun; Who can tell me from whence that glad river has risen?  Who can say whence it springs in its beauty?—not one.
Oh my heart, and my song, which is as my heart's flowing,  Read thy fate in yon river, for such is thine own! Mid those the chief praise on thy music bestowing,  Who cares for the lips from whence issue the tone?
Dark as its birth-place so dark is my spirit,  Whence yet the sweet waters of melody came: 'Tis the long after-course, not the source, will inherit  The beauty and glory of sunshine and fame.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/Ode on Orinda's Poems

ODE
ON ORINDA'S POEMS.
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# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/Ode upon Occasion of a Copy of Verses of my Lord Broghill's

ODE
UPON OCCASION OF A COPY OF VERSES OF MY LORD BROGHILL'S.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/Ode upon his Majesty's Restoration and Return

ODE
UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND RETURN.
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# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/On the Death of Mr. William Hervey

ON THE DEATH OF
MR. WILLIAM HERVEY.
"Immodicis brevis est ætas, & rara senectus." Mart.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/Ode: Upon Dr. Harvey

ODE.
UPON DR. HARVEY.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/On His Majesty's Return Out of Scotland

ON
HIS MAJESTY'S RETURN OUT OF SCOTLAND.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/On the Death of Mr. Crashaw

ON THE
DEATH OF MR. CRASHAW.
# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/On the Death of Mrs. Katharine Phillips

ON THE DEATH OF
MRS. KATHARINE PHILIPS.
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# The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 1/On Colonel Tuke's Tragi-Comedy, "The Adventures of Five Hours"

ON COLONEL TUKE'S TRAGI-COMEDY,
THE ADVENTURES OF FIVE HOURS.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/To George-Nim-Dan-Dean, Esq. – (Sheridan)

This is the second of seven poems on the same subject: 1. The Country Life; 2. Thomas Sheridan, Clerk, to George-Nim-Dan-Dean, Esq.; 3. George-Nim-Dan-Dean's Answer; 4. George-Nim-Dan-Dean's Invitation to Thomas Sheridan; 5. Verses by Dr. Delany; 6. Verses by Dr. Swift to Mr. T. Sheridan; and 7. On Dr. Sheridan's circular Verses.
THOMAS SHERIDAN, CLERK,
TO GEORGE-NIM-DAN-DEAN, ESQ.
July 15, 1721, at night.
I'D have you t'know, George, Dan, Dean, and Nim, That I've learned how verse t'compose trim, ​Much better b' half th'n you, n'r you, n'r him, And that I'd rid'cule their 'nd your flam-flim, Ay b't then, p'rhaps, says you, t's a merry whim With 'bundance of mark'd notes i' th' rim, So th't I ought n't for t' be morose 'nd t' look grim, Think n't your 'p'stle put m' in a megrim; Though 'n rep't't'on day, I 'ppear ver' slim, Th' last bowl 't Helsham's did m' head t' swim, So th't I h'd man' aches 'n 'v'ry scruhb'd limb, Cause th' top of th' bowl Ih'd oft us'd t' skim; And b'sides D'lan' swears th't Ih'd swall'w'd s'v'r'l brim- mers, 'nd that my vis'ge's cov'r'd o'er with r'd pim- ples: m'r'o'er though m' scull were ('s 'tis n't) 's strong's tim- ber, 't must have ak'd. Th' clans of th' c'llege Sanh'drim,
* ↑ Geo. Rochfort.
* ↑ Mr. Jackson.
* ↑ Dr. Swift.
* ↑ Mr. J. Rochfort.
* ↑ Dr. James Stopford, afterward bishop of Cloyne.