OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 41

​HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE AND FORTIETH CHAPTER
That in all other works beneath this, men should keep discretion; but in this none.
AND furthermore, if thou ask me what discretion thou shalt have in this work, then I answer thee and say, right none! For in all thine other doings thou shalt have discretion, as in eating and in drinking, and in sleeping and in keeping of thy body from outrageous cold or heat, and in long praying or reading, or in communing in speech with thine even-christian. In all these shalt thou keep discretion, that they be neither too much nor too little. But in this work shalt thou hold no measure: for I would that thou shouldest never cease of this work the whiles thou livest. ​I say not that thou shalt continue ever therein alike fresh, for that may not be. For sometime sickness and other unordained dispositions in body and in soul, with many other needfulness to nature, will let thee full much, and ofttimes draw thee down from the height of this working. But I say that thou shouldest evermore have it either in earnest or in game; that is to say, either in work or in will. And therefore for God's love be wary with sickness as much as thou mayest goodly, so that thou be not the cause of thy feebleness, as far as thou mayest. For I tell thee truly, that this work asketh a full great restfulness, and a full whole and clean disposition, as well in body as in soul.
And therefore for God's love govern thee discreetly in body and in soul, and get thee thine health as much as thou mayest. And if sickness come against thy power, have patience and abide meekly God's mercy: and all is then good enough. For I tell thee ​truly, that ofttimes patience in sickness and in other diverse tribulations pleaseth God much more than any liking devotion that thou mayest have in thy health.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 43

​HERE BEGINNETH THE THREE AND FORTIETH CHAPTER
That all witting and feeling of a man's own being must needs be lost if the perfection of this work shall verily be felt in any soul in this life.
LOOK that nought work in thy wit nor in thy will but only God. And try for to fell all witting and feeling of ought under God, and tread all down full far under the cloud of forgetting. And thou shalt understand, that thou shalt not only in this work forget all other creatures than thyself, or their deeds or thine, but also thou shalt in this work forget both thyself and also thy deeds for God, as well as all other creatures and their deeds. For it is the condition of a perfect lover, not only to love that thing that he loveth ​more than himself; but also in a manner for to hate himself for that thing that he loveth.
Thus shalt thou do with thyself: thou shalt loathe and be weary with all that thing that worketh in thy wit and in thy will unless it be only God. For why, surely else, whatsoever that it be, it is betwixt thee and thy God. And no wonder though thou loathe and hate for to think on thyself, when thou shalt always feel sin, a foul stinking lump thou wottest never what, betwixt thee and thy God: the which lump is none other thing than thyself. For thou shalt think it oned and congealed with the substance of thy being: yea, as it were without departing.
And therefore break down all witting and feeling of all manner of creatures; but most busily of thyself. For on the witting and the feeling of thyself hangeth witting and feeling of all other creatures; for in regard of it, all other creatures be lightly forgotten. For, an thou wilt busily set thee to ​the proof, thou shalt find when thou hast forgotten all other creatures and all their works—yea, and thereto all thine own works—that there shall live yet after, betwixt thee and thy God, a naked witting and a feeling of thine own being: the which witting and feeling behoveth always be destroyed, ere the time be that thou feel soothfastly the perfection of this work.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 39

​HERE BEGINNETH THE NINE AND THIRTIETH CHAPTER
How a perfect worker shall pray, and what prayer is in itself; and if a man shall pray in words, which words accord them most to the property of prayer.
AND therefore it is, to pray in the height and the deepness, the length and the breadth of our spirit. And that not in many words, but in a little word of one syllable.
And what shall this word be? Surely such a word as is best according unto the property of prayer. And what word is that? Let us first see what prayer is properly in itself, and thereafter we may clearlier know what word will best accord to the property of prayer.
Prayer in itself properly is not else, ​but a devout intent direct unto God, for getting of good and removing of evil. And then, since it so is that all evil be comprehended in sin, either by cause or by being, let us therefore when we will intentively pray for removing of evil either say, or think, or mean, nought else nor no more words, but this little word "sin." And if we will intentively pray for getting of good, let us cry, either with word or with thought or with desire, nought else nor no more words, but this word "God." For why, in God be all good, both by cause and by being. Have no marvel why I set these words forby all other. For if I could find any shorter words, so fully comprehending in them all good and all evil, as these two words do, or if I had been learned of God to take any other words either, I would then have taken them and left these; and so I counsel that thou do.
Study thou not for no words, for so shouldest thou never come to thy purpose nor to this work, for it is ​never got by study, but all only by grace. And therefore take thou none other words to pray in, although I set these here, but such as thou art stirred of God for to take. Nevertheless, if God stir thee to take these, I counsel not that thou leave them; I mean if thou shalt pray in words, and else not. For why, they be full short words. But although the shortness of prayer be greatly commended here, nevertheless the oftness of prayer is never the rather refrained. For as it is said before, it is prayed in the length of the spirit; so that it should never cease, till the time were that it had fully gotten that that it longed after. Ensample of this have we in a man or a woman afraid in the manner beforesaid. For we see well, that they cease never crying on this little word "out," or this little word " fire," ere the time be that they have in great part gotten help of their grief.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 42

​HERE BEGINNETH THE TWO AND FORTIETH CHAPTER
That by indiscretion in this, men shall keep discretion in all other things; and surely else never.
BUT peradventure thou askest me, how thou shalt govern thee discreetly in meat and in sleep, and in all these other. And hereto I think to answer thee right shortly: "Get that thou get mayest." Do this work evermore without ceasing and without discretion, and thou shalt well ken begin and cease in all other works with a great discretion. For I may not trow that a soul continuing in this work night and day without discretion, should err in any of these outward doings; and else, me think that he should always err. ​And therefore, an I might get a waking and a busy beholding to this ghostly work within in my soul, I would then have a heedlessness in eating and in drinking, in sleeping and in speaking, and in all mine outward doings. For surely I trow I should rather come to discretion in them by such a heedlessness, than by any busy beholding to the same things, as I would by that beholding set a mark and a measure by them. Truly I should never bring it so about, for ought that I could do or say. Say what men say will, and let the proof witness. And therefore lift up thine heart with a blind stirring of love; and mean now sin, and now God. God wouldest thou have, and sin wouldest thou lack. God wanteth thee; and sin art thou sure of. Now good God help thee, for now hast thou need!
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 45

​HERE BEGINNETH THE FIVE AND FORTIETH CHAPTER
A good declaring of some certain deceits that may befall in this work.
BUT one thing I tell thee, that in this work may a young disciple that hath not yet been well used and proved in ghostly working, full lightly be deceived; and, but he be soon wary, and have grace to leave off and meek him to counsel, peradventure be destroyed in his bodily powers and fall into fantasy in his ghostly wits. And all this is along of pride, and of fleshliness and curiosity of wit.
And on this manner may this deceit befall. A young man or a woman new set to the school of devotion heareth this sorrow and this desire be read and spoken: how that a man ​shall lift up his heart unto God, and unceasingly desire for to feel the love of his God. And as fast in a curiosity of wit they conceive these words not ghostly as they be meant, but fleshly and bodily; and travail their fleshly hearts outrageously in their breasts. And what for lacking of grace and pride and curiosity in themselves, they strain their veins and their bodily powers so beastly and so rudely, that within short time they fall either into frenzies, weariness, and a manner of unlisty feebleness in body and in soul, the which maketh them to wend out of themselves and seek some false and some vain fleshly and bodily comfort without, as it were for recreation of body and of spirit: or else, if they fall not in this, else they merit for ghostly blindness, and for fleshly chafing of their nature in their bodily breasts in the time of this feigned beastly and not ghostly working, for to have their breasts either enflamed with an unkindly heat of nature ​caused of misruling of their bodies or of this feigned working, or else they conceive a false heat wrought by the Fiend, their ghostly enemy, caused of their pride and of their fleshliness and their curiosity of wit. And yet peradventure they ween it be the fire of love, gotten and kindled by the grace and the goodness of the Holy Ghost. Truly, of this deceit, and of the branches thereof, spring many mischiefs: much hypocrisy, much heresy, and much error. For as fast after such a false feeling cometh a false knowing in the Fiend's school, right as after a true feeling cometh a true knowing in God's school. For I tell thee truly, that the devil hath his contemplatives as God hath His.
This deceit of false feeling, and of false knowing following thereon, hath diverse and wonderful variations, after the diversity of states and the subtle conditions of them that be deceived: as hath the true feeling and knowing ​of them that be saved. But I set no more deceits here but those with the which I trow thou shalt be assailed if ever thou purpose thee to work in this work. For what should it profit to thee to wit how these great clerks, and men and women of other degrees than thou art, be deceived? Surely right nought; and therefore I tell thee no more but those that fall unto thee if thou travail in this work. And therefore I tell thee this, for thou shalt be wary therewith in thy working, if thou be assailed therewith.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 40

​HERE BEGINNETH THE FORTIETH CHAPTER
That in the time of this work a soul hath no special beholding to any vice in itself nor to any virtue in itself
DO thou, on the same manner, fill thy spirit with the ghostly bemeaning of this word "sin," and without any special beholding unto any kind of sin, whether it be venial or deadly: Pride, Wrath, or Envy, Covetyse, Sloth, Gluttony, or Lechery. What recks it in contemplatives, what sin that it be, or how muckle a sin that it be? For all sins them thinketh—I mean for the time of this work—alike great in themselves, when the least sin departeth them from God, and letteth them of their ghostly peace.
And feel sin a lump, thou wottest never what, but none other thing than ​thyself. And cry then ghostly ever upon one: "Sin, sin, sin! Out, out, out!" This ghostly cry is better learned of God by the proof, than of any man by word. For it is best when it is in pure spirit, without special thought or any pronouncing of word; unless it be any seldom time, when for abundance of spirit it bursteth up into word, so that the body and the soul be both filled with sorrow and cumbering of sin.
On the same manner shalt thou do with this little word "God." Fill thy spirit with the ghostly bemeaning of it without any special beholding to any of His works—whether they be good, better, or best of all—bodily or ghostly, or to any virtue that may be wrought in man's soul by any grace; not looking after whether it be meekness or charity, patience or abstinence, hope, faith, or soberness, chastity or wilful poverty. What recks this in contemplatives? For all virtues they find and feel in God; for in Him is all ​thing, both by cause and by being. For they think that an they had God they had all good, and therefore they covet nothing with special beholding, but only good God. Do thou on the same manner as far forth as thou mayest by grace: and mean God all, and all God, so that nought work in thy wit and in thy will, but only God.
And because that ever the whiles thou livest in this wretched life, thee behoveth always feel in some part this foul stinking lump of sin, as it were oned and congealed with the substance of thy being, therefore shalt thou changeably mean these two words—sin and God. With this general knowing, that an thou haddest God, then shouldest thou lack sin: and mightest thou lack sin, then shouldest thou have God.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 46

​HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX AND FORTIETH CHAPTER
A good teaching how a man shall flee these deceits, and work more with a listiness of spirit, than with any boisterousness of body.
AND therefore for God's love be wary in this work, and strain not thine heart in thy breast over-rudely nor out of measure; but work more with a list than with any worthless strength. For ever the more listily, the more meekly and ghostly: and ever the more rudely, the more bodily and beastly. And therefore be wary, for surely what beastly heart that presumeth for to touch the high mount of this work, it shall be beaten away with stones. Stones be hard and dry in their kind, and they hurt full sore where they hit. And surely such rude ​strainings be full hard fastened in fleshliness of bodily feeling, and full dry from any witting of grace; and they hurt full sore the silly soul, and make it fester in fantasy feigned of fiends. And therefore be wary with this beastly rudeness, and learn thee to love listily, with a soft and a demure behaviour as well in body as in soul; and abide courteously and meekly the will of our Lord, and snatch not overhastily, as it were a greedy greyhound, hunger thee never so sore. And, gamingly be it said, I counsel that thou do that in thee is, refraining the rude and the great stirring of thy spirit, right as thou on nowise wouldest let Him wit how fain thou wouldest see Him, and have Him or feel Him.
This is childishly and playingly spoken, thee think peradventure. But I trow whoso had grace to do and feel as I say, he should feel good gamesome play with Him, as the father doth with the child, kissing and clipping, that well were him so.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Utica (Africa)

Edition of 1879. See also Utica, Tunisia on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
UTICA, an ancient city of Africa, on the W. arm of the river Bagradas, near the bay of Carthage, a short distance N. W. of the present city of Tunis; its site is now occupied by the little village of Bu-shatter. It is said to have been founded by the Tyrians 287 years before the foundation of Carthage. In the early wars between Rome and Carthage it appears as an ally of the latter. In the third Punic war it made a separate and early submission to Rome, and its prosperity was thereby greatly increased, as on the fall of Carthage a part of its territory was given to Utica, and that city was made the residence of the Roman governor. In the historical narratives of the struggles between Sulla and Marius, and those between Cæsar and Pompey, frequent references are made to it as a place of great
importance. Its amphitheatre was capable of seating 20,000 persons, and on an artificial lake mimic sea fights were exhibited. Its supplies of water were stored in numerous vast reservoirs or cisterns, some of which still remaining are 136 ft. long, 19 ft. wide, and 20 or 30 ft. deep. Cato the younger, surnamed Uticensis, committed suicide here in 46 B. C. Augustus made Utica a free city. It was the see of a Christian bishop at an early date. It fell into the hands of the Vandals in 439, but was recovered by the Byzantine emperors, who retained it till toward the close of the 7th century, when it was conquered by the Arabs and destroyed.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Utopia

Edition of 1879. See also Utopia (book) on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
UTOPIA (Gr. οὐ, not, and τόπος, a place), the title of a political romance by Sir Thomas More, and the name that he gave to an imaginary island, which he represents to have been discovered by a companion of Amerigo Vespucci, and in which existed a perfect society. He pictured a community where all the property belonged to the government, to which every one contributed by his labor, receiving therefrom a supply of his wants; where the citizen rose through all the gradations of his existence from form to form, as if in a vast public school; where gold was contemned, and all the members of the society, unswerved by passion, were fixed each in his proper place. “Utopia” was published in Latin in 1516, and translated into English by Bishop Burnet.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Vanderbilt University

Edition of 1879. See also Vanderbilt University on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY, an institution of learning in the western suburbs of Nashville, Tenn. It was chartered in 1872 as the Central university of the Methodist Episcopal church, South, but the efforts to raise funds for its organization were unsuccessful. In 1873 Cornelius Vanderbilt of New York gave to the enterprise $500,000, and the institution was named in his honor. He has since increased this amount to nearly $700,000, $300,000 of which is to remain as a permanent invested endowment. One of the conditions upon which this gift was made was that Bishop McTyeire
of the Methodist Episcopal church, South, should become president of the board of trust. This post was accepted by Bishop McTyeire, upon whom has fallen the chief responsibility of organizing the institution. L. C. Garland, LL. D., was chosen chancellor, and the Rev. T. O. Summers, D. D., dean of the theological faculty, and ex officio vice chancellor. A plot of 75 acres was purchased, the corner stone of the university was laid April 28, 1874, and on Oct. 4, 1875, the institution was opened for students. It has a theological department with four professors, a law department with three, a medical department with eleven, and a department of philosophy, science, and literature with eleven. The total number of students in 1875-'6 was 300. It has a library of 6,000 volumes, scientific apparatus that cost more than $50,000, and extensive geological and mineralogical cabinets. The plan of instruction is elective. The dormitory system is not used; students board in private families. Tuition is free to all in the theological department, and in the literary and scientific department to all preparing for the ministry.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Vater, Johann Severin

Edition of 1879. See also Johann Severin Vater on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
VATER, Johann Severin, a German linguist, born in Altenburg, May 27, 1771, died in Halle, March 16, 1826. He was a student and professor at Jena and Halle, in 1809 was transferred to Königsberg, and in 1820 resumed his chair at Halle. Although he taught theology, he is chiefly known as a philologist. His works include a Hebrew grammar (1797); Handbuch der hebräischen, syrischen, chaldäischen und arabischen Grammatik (1801); a Polish (1807) and a Russian grammar (1809); a continuation of Adelung's Mithridates (1809-'17); and Literatur der Grammatiken, Lexika und Wörtersammlungen aller Sprachen der Erde (1815). He also edited and continued Henke's Allgemeine Geschichte der christlichen Kirche (1818-'23).
# The Book of Scottish Song/I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane

I lo’ed ne’er a laddie but ane.
[The first eight lines of this song, and other eight rather too homely for extract here, are said by Burns to have been written by the Rev. John Clunie, minister of Borthwick, Midlothian, who died in 1819, aged 62. The rest of the song, beginning "Let ithers brag weel o' their gear," is by Hector Macneil. The tune bears a strong resemblance to the Irish air called "My lodging is on the cold ground."]
I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane; He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me; He's willing to mak' me his ain; And his ain I am willing to be. He has coft me a rokelay o' blue, And a pair o' mittens o' green; The price was a kiss o' my mou'; And I paid him the debt yestreen.
Let ithers brag weel o' their gear, Their land, and their lordly degree; I carena for aught but my dear, For he's ilka thing lordly to me: His words are sae sugar'd, sae sweet! His sense drives ilk fear far awa'! I listen, poor fool! and I greet; Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!
Dear lassie, he cries wi' a jeer, Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say; Though we've little to brag o'—ne'er fear; What's gowd to a heart that is wae? Our laird has baith honours and wealth, Yet see how he's dwining wi' care; Now we, though we've naething but health, Are cantie and leal evermair.
O Marion! the heart that is true, Has something mair costly than gear Ilk e'en it has naething to rue— Ilk morn it has naething to fear. Ye warldlings, ga'e hoard up your store, And tremble for fear ought you tyne; Guard youi treasures wi' lock, bar, and door, While here in my arms I lock mine!
He ends wi' a kiss and a smile— Wae's me, can I tak' it amiss! My laddie's unpractised in guile, He's free aye to daut and to kiss! Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife, Play your pranks—I ha'e gi'en my consent, And this night I am Jamie's for life.
# The Book of Scottish Song/I winna be weel

I winna be weel.
[The following capital song is by a working blacksmith in Glasgow, of the name of Thomas Dodd, and is here printed for the first time. We have seldom seen a more ludicrous yet faithful picture of an aged wooer than it presents.—Tune, "The brisk young lad."]
I winna be weel, for I canna be weel,— The laird an' his siller may gang in a creel, Tho' his bauld pow had the crown on't, atweel, I'd scorn him wi' his a'.
My mother says a laird's a catch, My father fain wad mak' a match, But I'll no be a gaudy wretch, To pine my life an a'.
Was he guid as a sannt an' wise as a sage, His wisdom or worth for my heart is nae pledge, I wish—as a lassie should wish at my age— Ane young, whate'er may fa'.
My truely! it's an unco sight To see an auld blin' donert wight, Wha scarcely kens the day frae night, Begin a lang fraca!
Sighing—but mair for the want o' his breath Than love at his heart, though maybe baith— Smiling on me, as if girning guid faith, He says, "O lass, ye're braw!" ​His cauldrife jokes an' ghastly fun He mak's an' cracks till out o' wun', Then tells me o' his gowd an' grun, To wyle my heart awa'.
He woo's like a beggar that's seeking his bread, Sae pityfu'-like his e'e stands in his head, A' trembling, just as he was in a weed, He says, "Tak' me an' a'."
If I but smile, the body is glad; If I but gloom, the body is sad; For fear I put the body mad, I daurna tell him na.