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diff --git a/old/chmsv10.txt b/old/chmsv10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf04020 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/chmsv10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1828 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Eve, by Robert Browning +#4 in our series by Robert Browning + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Christmas Eve + +Author: Robert Browning + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6670] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 12, 2003] +[Date last updated: February 4, 2008] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +CHRISTMAS EVE + +ROBERT BROWNING + + + +I + +Out of the little chapel I burst + Into the fresh night-air again. +Five minutes full, I waited first + In the doorway, to escape the rain +That drove in gusts down the common's centre + At the edge of which the chapel stands, +Before I plucked up heart to enter. + Heaven knows how many sorts of hands +Reached past me, groping for the latch +Of the inner door that hung on catch +More obstinate the more they fumbled, + Till, giving way at last with a scold +Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled + One sheep more to the rest in fold, +And left me irresolute, standing sentry +In the sheepfold's lath-and-plaster entry, +Six feet long by three feet wide, +Partitioned off from the vast inside-- + I blocked up half of it at least. +No remedy; the rain kept driving. + They eyed me much as some wild beast, +That congregation, still arriving, +Some of them by the main road, white +A long way past me into the night, +Skirting the common, then diverging; +Not a few suddenly emerging +From the common's self thro' the paling-gaps +--They house in the gravel-pits perhaps, +Where the road stops short with its safeguard border +Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;-- +But the most turned in yet more abruptly + From a certain squalid knot of alleys, +Where the town's bad blood once slept corruptly, + Which now the little chapel rallies +And leads into day again,--its priestliness +Lending itself to hide their beastliness +So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason), +And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on +Those neophytes too much in lack of it, + That, where you cross the common as I did, + And meet the party thus presided, +"Mount Zion" with Love-lane at the back of it, +They front you as little disconcerted +As, bound for the hills, her fate averted, +And her wicked people made to mind him, +Lot might have marched with Gomorrah +behind him. + + +II + +Well, from the road, the lanes or the common, +In came the flock: the fat weary woman, +Panting and bewildered, down-clapping + Her umbrella with a mighty report, +Grounded it by me, wry and flapping, + A wreck of whalebones; then, with snort, +Like a startled horse, at the interloper +(Who humbly knew himself improper, +But could not shrink up small enough) +--Round to the door, and in,--the gruff +Hinge's invariable scold +Making my very blood run cold. +Prompt in the wake of her, up-pattered +On broken clogs, the many-tattered +Little old-faced peaking sister-turned-mother +Of the sickly babe she tried to smother +Somehow up, with its spotted face, +From the cold, on her breast, the one warm place; +She too must stop, wring the poor ends dry +Of a draggled shawl, and add thereby +Her tribute to the door-mat, sopping +Already from my own clothes' dropping, +Which yet she seemed to grudge I should stand on: + Then, stooping down to take off her pattens, + She bore them defiantly, in each hand one, +Planted together before her breast +And its babe, as good as a lance in rest. + Close on her heels, the dingy satins +Of a female something, past me flitted, + With lips as much too white, as a streak + Lay far too red on each hollow cheek; +And it seemed the very door-hinge pitied +All that was left of a woman once, +Holding at least its tongue for the nonce. +Then a tall yellow man, like the Penitent Thief, +With his jaw bound up in a handkerchief, +And eyelids screwed together tight, +Led himself in by some inner light. +And, except from him, from each that entered, + I got the same interrogation-- +"What, you the alien, you have ventured + "To take with us, the elect, your station? +"A carer for none of it, a Gallio!"-- + Thus, plain as print, I read the glance +At a common prey, in each countenance + As of huntsman giving his hounds the tallyho. +And, when the door's cry drowned their wonder, + The draught, it always sent in shutting, +Made the flame of the single tallow candle +In the cracked square lantern I stood under, + Shoot its blue lip at me, rebutting +As it were, the luckless cause of scandal: +I verily fancied the zealous light +(In the chapel's secret, too!) for spite +Would shudder itself clean off the wick, +With the airs of a Saint John's Candlestick. + [Footnote: See Rev. i. 20.] +There was no standing it much longer. +"Good folks," thought I, as resolve grew stronger, +"This way you perform the Grand-Inquisitor +"When the weather sends you a chance visitor? +"You are the men, and wisdom shall die with you, +"And none of the old Seven Churches vie with you! +"But still, despite the pretty perfection + "To which you carry your trick of exclusiveness, +"And, taking God's word under wise protection, + "Correct its tendency to diffusiveness, +"And bid one reach it over hot ploughshares,-- + "Still, as I say, though you've found salvation, +"If I should choose to cry, as now, 'Shares!'-- + "See if the best of you bars me my ration! +"I prefer, if you please, for my expounder +"Of the laws of the feast, the feast's own Founder; +"Mine's the same right with your poorest and sickliest + "Supposing I don the marriage vestiment: + "So shut your mouth and open your Testament, +"And carve me my portion at your quickliest!" +Accordingly, as a shoemaker's lad + With wizened face in want of soap, + And wet apron wound round his waist like a rope, +(After stopping outside, for his cough was bad, +To get the fit over, poor gentle creature, +And so avoid disturbing the preacher) +--Passed in, I sent my elbow spikewise +At the shutting door, and entered likewise, +Received the hinge's accustomed greeting, + And crossed the threshold's magic pentacle, + And found myself in full conventicle, +--To wit, in Zion Chapel Meeting, +On the Christmas-Eve of 'Forty-nine, + Which, calling its flock to their special clover, + Found all assembled and one sheep over, +Whose lot, as the weather pleased, was mine. + +III + +I very soon had enough of it. + The hot smell and the human noises, +And my neighbour's coat, the greasy cuff of it, + Were a pebble-stone that a child's hand poises, +Compared with the pig-of-lead-like pressure + Of the preaching man's immense stupidity, +As he poured his doctrine forth, full measure, + To meet his audience's avidity. +You needed not the wit of the Sibyl + To guess the cause of it all, in a twinkling: + No sooner our friend had got an inkling +Of treasure hid in the Holy Bible, +(Whene'er 'twas the thought first struck him, +How death, at unawares, might duck him +Deeper than the grave, and quench +The gin-shop's light in hell's grim drench) +Than he handled it so, in fine irreverence, + As to hug the book of books to pieces: +And, a patchwork of chapters and texts in severance, + Not improved by the private dog's-ears and creases, +Having clothed his own soul with, he'd fain see equipt yours,-- +So tossed you again your Holy Scriptures. +And you picked them up, in a sense, no doubt: + Nay, had but a single face of my neighbours + Appeared to suspect that the preacher's labours +Were help which the world could be saved without, +'Tis odds but I might have borne in quiet +A qualm or two at my spiritual diet, +Or (who can tell?) perchance even mustered + Somewhat to urge in behalf of the sermon: +But the flock sat on, divinely flustered, + Sniffing, methought, its dew of Hermon +With such content in every snuffle, +As the devil inside us loves to ruffle. +My old fat woman purred with pleasure, + And thumb round thumb went twirling faster, +While she, to his periods keeping measure, + Maternally devoured the pastor. +The man with the handkerchief untied it, +Showed us a horrible wen inside it, +Gave his eyelids yet another screwing, +And rocked himself as the woman was doing. +The shoemaker's lad, discreetly choking, +Kept down his cough. 'Twas too provoking! +My gorge rose at the nonsense and stuff of it; + So, saying like Eve when she plucked the apple, + "I wanted a taste, and now there's enough of it," +I flung out of the little chapel. + +IV + +There was a lull in the rain, a lull + In the wind too; the moon was risen, +And would have shone out pure and full, + But for the ramparted cloud-prison, +Block on block built up in the West, +For what purpose the wind knows best, +Who changes his mind continually. +And the empty other half of the sky +Seemed in its silence as if it knew +What, any moment, might look through +A chance gap in that fortress massy:-- + Through its fissures you got hints + Of the flying moon, by the shifting tints, +Now, a dull lion-colour, now, brassy +Burning to yellow, and whitest yellow, +Like furnace-smoke just ere flames bellow, +All a-simmer with intense strain +To let her through,--then blank again, +At the hope of her appearance failing. +Just by the chapel, a break in the railing +Shows a narrow path directly across; +'Tis ever dry walking there, on the moss-- +Besides, you go gently all the way uphill. + I stooped under and soon felt better; +My head grew lighter, my limbs more supple, + As I walked on, glad to have slipt the fetter. +My mind was full of the scene I had left, + That placid flock, that pastor vociferant, + --How this outside was pure and different! +The sermon, now--what a mingled weft +Of good and ill! Were either less, + Its fellow had coloured the whole distinctly; +But alas for the excellent earnestness, + And the truths, quite true if stated succinctly, +But as surely false, in their quaint presentment, +However to pastor and flock's contentment! +Say rather, such truths looked false to your eyes, + With his provings and parallels twisted and twined, +Till how could you know them, grown double their size + In the natural fog of the good man's mind, +Like yonder spots of our roadside lamps, +Haloed about with the common's damps? +Truth remains true, the fault's in the prover; + The zeal was good, and the aspiration; +And yet, and yet, yet, fifty times over, + Pharaoh received no demonstration, +By his Baker's dream of Basket Three, +Of the doctrine of the Trinity,-- +Although, as our preacher thus embellished it, +Apparently his hearers relished it +With so unfeigned a gust--who knows if +They did not prefer our friend to Joseph? +But so it is everywhere, one way with all of them! + These people have really felt, no doubt, +A something, the motion they style the Call of them; + And this is their method of bringing about, +By a mechanism of words and tones, + (So many texts in so many groans) +A sort of reviving and reproducing, + More or less perfectly, (who can tell?) +The mood itself, which strengthens by using; + And how that happens, I understand well. +A tune was born in my head last week, +Out of the thump-thump and shriek-shriek + Of the train, as I came by it, up from Manchester; +And when, next week, I take it back again, +My head will sing to the engine's clack again, + While it only makes my neighbour's haunches stir, +--Finding no dormant musical sprout +In him, as in me, to be jolted out. +'Tis the taught already that profits by teaching; +He gets no more from the railway's preaching + Than, from this preacher who does the rail's office, I: +Whom therefore the flock cast a jealous eye on. +Still, why paint over their door "Mount Zion," +To which all flesh shall come, saith the prophecy? + + +V + +But wherefore be harsh on a single case? + After how many modes, this Christmas Eve, +Does the self-same weary thing take place? + The same endeavour to make you believe, +And with much the same effect, no more: + Each method abundantly convincing, +As I say, to those convinced before, + But scarce to be swallowed without wincing +By the not-as-yet-convinced. For me, +I have my own church equally: +And in this church my faith sprang first! + (I said, as I reached the rising ground, +And the wind began again, with a burst + Of rain in my face, and a glad rebound +From the heart beneath, as if, God speeding me, +I entered his church-door, nature leading me) +--In youth I look to these very skies, +And probing their immensities, +I found God there, his visible power; + Yet felt in my heart, amid all its sense + Of the power, an equal evidence +That his love, there too, was the nobler dower. +For the loving worm within its clod, +Were diviner than a loveless god +Amid his worlds, I will dare to say. + You know what I mean: God's all, man's nought: + But also, God, whose pleasure brought +Man into being, stands away + As it were a handbreadth off, to give +Room for the newly-made to live, +And look at him from a place apart, +And use his gifts of brain and heart, +Given, indeed, but to keep for ever. +Who speaks of man, then, must not sever +Man's very elements from man, +Saying, "But all is God's"--whose plan +Was to create man and then leave him +Able, his own word saith, to grieve him +But able to glorify him too, +As a mere machine could never do, +That prayed or praised, all unaware +Of its fitness for aught but praise and prayer, +Made perfect as a thing of course. +Man, therefore, stands on his own stock +Of love and power as a pin-point rock: +And, looking to God who ordained divorce +Of the rock from his boundless continent, +Sees, in his power made evident, +Only excess by a million-fold +O'er the power God gave man in the mould. +For, note: man's hand, first formed to carry +A few pounds' weight, when taught to marry +Its strength with an engine's, lifts a mountain, + --Advancing in power by one degree; + And why count steps through eternity? +But love is the ever-springing fountain: +Man may enlarge or narrow his bed +For the water's play, but the water-head-- +How can he multiply or reduce it? + As easy create it, as cause it to cease; +He may profit by it, or abuse it, + But 'tis not a thing to bear increase +As power does: be love less or more + In the heart of man, he keeps it shut + Or opes it wide, as he pleases, but +Love's sum remains what it was before. +So, gazing up, in my youth, at love +As seen through power, ever above +All modes which make it manifest, +My soul brought all to a single test-- +That he, the Eternal First and Last, +Who, in his power, had so surpassed +All man conceives of what is might,-- +Whose wisdom, too, showed infinite, +--Would prove as infinitely good; +Would never, (my soul understood,) +With power to work all love desires, +Bestow e'en less than man requires; +That he who endlessly was teaching, +Above my spirit's utmost reaching, +What love can do in the leaf or stone, +(So that to master this alone, +This done in the stone or leaf for me, +I must go on learning endlessly) +Would never need that I, in turn, + Should point him out defect unheeded, +And show that God had yet to learn + What the meanest human creature needed, +--Not life, to wit, for a few short years, +Tracking his way through doubts and fears, +While the stupid earth on which I stay + Suffers no change, but passive adds + Its myriad years to myriads, +Though I, he gave it to, decay, +Seeing death come and choose about me, +And my dearest ones depart without me. +No: love which, on earth, amid all the shows of it, + Has ever been seen the sole good of life in it, +The love, ever growing there, spite of the strife in it. + Shall arise, made perfect, from death's repose of it, +And I shall behold thee, face to face, +O God, and in thy light retrace +How in all I loved here, still wast thou! +Whom pressing to, then, as I fain would now, +I shall find as able to satiate + The love, thy gift, as my spirit's wonder +Thou art able to quicken and sublimate, + With this sky of thine, that I now walk under, +And glory in thee for, as I gaze +Thus, thus! Oh, let men keep their ways +Of seeking thee in a narrow shrine-- +Be this my way! And this is mine! + +VI + +For lo, what think you? suddenly +The rain and the wind ceased, and the sky +Received at once the full fruition +Of the moon's consummate apparition. +The black cloud-barricade was riven, +Ruined beneath her feet, and driven +Deep in the West; while, bare and breathless, + North and South and East lay ready +For a glorious thing that, dauntless, deathless, + Sprang across them and stood steady. +'Twas a moon-rainbow, vast and perfect, +From heaven to heaven extending, perfect +As the mother-moon's self, full in face. +It rose, distinctly at the base + With its seven proper colours chorded, +Which still, in the rising, were compressed, +Until at last they coalesced, + And supreme the spectral creature lorded +In a triumph of whitest white,-- +Above which intervened the night. +But above night too, like only the next, + The second of a wondrous sequence, + Reaching in rare and rarer frequence, +Till the heaven of heavens were circumflexed, +Another rainbow rose, a mightier, +Fainter, flushier and flightier,-- +Rapture dying along its verge. +Oh, whose foot shall I see emerge, +Whose, from the straining topmost dark, +On to the keystone of that arc? + +VII + +This sight was shown me, there and then,-- +Me, out of a world of men, +Singled forth, as the chance might hap +To another if, in a thunderclap +Where I heard noise and you saw flame, +Some one man knew God called his name. +For me, I think I said, "Appear! +"Good were it to be ever here. +"If thou wilt, let me build to thee +"Service-tabernacles three, +"Where, forever in thy presence, +"In ecstatic acquiescence, +"Far alike from thriftless learning +"And ignorance's undiscerning, +"I may worship and remain!" + Thus at the show above me, gazing +With upturned eyes, I felt my brain + Glutted with the glory, blazing +Throughout its whole mass, over and under +Until at length it burst asunder +And out of it bodily there streamed, +The too-much glory, as it seemed, +Passing from out me to the ground, +Then palely serpentining round +Into the dark with mazy error. + +VIII + +All at once I looked up with terror. +He was there. +He himself with his human air. +On the narrow pathway, just before. +I saw the back of him, no more-- +He had left the chapel, then, as I. +I forgot all about the sky. +No face: only the sight +Of a sweepy garment, vast and white, +With a hem that I could recognize. +I felt terror, no surprise; +My mind filled with the cataract, +At one bound of the mighty fact. +"I remember, he did say + "Doubtless that, to this world's end, +"Where two or three should meet and pray, + "He would be in their midst, their friend; +"Certainly he was there with them!" + And my pulses leaped for joy + Of the golden thought without alloy, +Then I saw his very vesture's hem. +Then rushed the blood back, cold and clear, +With a fresh enhancing shiver of fear; +And I hastened, cried out while I pressed +To the salvation of the vest, +"But not so, Lord! It cannot be +"That thou, indeed, art leaving me-- +"Me, that have despised thy friends! +"Did my heart make no amends? +"Thou art the love of God--above +"His power, didst hear me place his love, +"And that was leaving the world for thee. +"Therefore thou must not turn from me +"As I had chosen the other part! +"Folly and pride o'ercame my heart. +"Our best is bad, nor bears thy test; +"Still, it should be our very best. +"I thought it best that thou, the spirit, + "Be worshipped in spirit and in truth, +"And in beauty, as even we require it-- + "Not in the forms burlesque, uncouth, +"I left but now, as scarcely fitted +"For thee: I knew not what I pitied. +"But, all I felt there, right or wrong, +"What is it to thee, who curest sinning? +"Am I not weak as thou art strong? + "I have looked to thee from the beginning, +"Straight up to thee through all the world +"Which, like an idle scroll, lay furled +"To nothingness on either side: +"And since the time thou wast descried, +"Spite of the weak heart, so have I +"Lived ever, and so fain would die, +"Living and dying, thee before! +"But if thou leavest me----" + +IX + + Less or more, +I suppose that I spoke thus. +When,--have mercy, Lord, on us! +The whole face turned upon me full. + And I spread myself beneath it, + As when the bleacher spreads, to seethe it +In the cleansing sun, his wool,-- +Steeps in the flood of noontide whiteness + Some denied, discoloured web-- +So lay I, saturate with brightness. + And when the flood appeared to ebb, +Lo, I was walking, light and swift, + With my senses settling fast and steadying, +But my body caught up in the whirl and drift + Of the vesture's amplitude, still eddying +On, just before me, still to be followed, + As it carried me after with its motion: +What shall I say?--as a path were hollowed + And a man went weltering through the ocean, +Sucked along in the flying wake +Of the luminous water-snake. +Darkness and cold were cloven, as through +I passed, upborne yet walking too. +And I turned to myself at intervals,-- +"So he said, so it befalls. +"God who registers the cup + "Of mere cold water, for his sake +"To a disciple rendered up, + "Disdains not his own thirst to slake +"At the poorest love was ever offered: +"And because my heart I proffered, +"With true love trembling at the brim, +"He suffers me to follow him +"For ever, my own way,--dispensed +"From seeking to be influenced +"By all the less immediate ways + "That earth, in worships manifold, +"Adopts to reach, by prayer and praise, + "The garment's hem, which, lo, I hold!" + + +X + +And so we crossed the world and stopped. + For where am I, in city or plain, + Since I am 'ware of the world again? +And what is this that rises propped +With pillars of prodigious girth? +Is it really on the earth, +This miraculous Dome of God? +Has the angel's measuring-rod +Which numbered cubits, gem from gem, +'Twixt the gates of the New Jerusalem, +Meted it out,--and what he meted, +Have the sons of men completed? +--Binding, ever as he bade, +Columns in the colonnade +With arms wide open to embrace +The entry of the human race +To the breast of... what is it, yon building, +Ablaze in front, all paint and gilding, +With marble for brick, and stones of price +For garniture of the edifice? +Now I see; it is no dream; +It stands there and it does not seem; +For ever, in pictures, thus it looks, +And thus I have read of it in books +Often in England, leagues away, +And wondered how these fountains play, +Growing up eternally +Each to a musical water-tree, +Whose blossoms drop, a glittering boon, +Before my eyes, in the light of the moon, +To the granite layers underneath. +Liar and dreamer in your teeth! +I, the sinner that speak to you, +Was in Rome this night, and stood, and knew +Both this and more. For see, for see, +The dark is rent, mine eye is free +To pierce the crust of the outer wall, +And I view inside, and all there, all, +As the swarming hollow of a hive, +The whole Basilica alive! +Men in the chancel, body and nave, +Men on the pillars' architrave, +Men on the statues, men on the tombs +With popes and kings in their porphyry wombs, +All famishing in expectation +Of the main-altar's consummation. +For see, for see, the rapturous moment +Approaches, and earth's best endowment +Blends with heaven's; the taper-fires +Pant up, the winding brazen spires +Heave loftier yet the baldachin; [Footnote: Canopy over the High Altar.] +The incense-gaspings, long kept in, +Suspire in clouds; the organ blatant +Holds his breath and grovels latent, +As if God's hushing finger grazed him, +(Like Behemoth when he praised him) +At the silver bell's shrill tinkling, +Quick cold drops of terror sprinkling +On the sudden pavement strewed +With faces of the multitude. +Earth breaks up, time drops away, +In flows heaven, with its new day +Of endless life, when He who trod, +Very man and very God, +This earth in weakness, shame and pain, +Dying the death whose signs remain +Up yonder on the accursed tree,-- +Shall come again, no more to be +Of captivity the thrall, +But the one God, All in all, +King of kings, Lord of lords, +As His servant John received the words, +"I died, and live for evermore!" + + +XI + +Yet I was left outside the door. +"Why sit I here on the threshold-stone +"Left till He return, alone +"Save for the garment's extreme fold +"Abandoned still to bless my hold?" +My reason, to my doubt, replied, +As if a book were opened wide, +And at a certain page I traced +Every record undefaced, +Added by successive years,-- +The harvestings of truth's stray ears +Singly gleaned, and in one sheaf +Bound together for belief. +Yes, I said--that he will go +And sit with these in turn, I know. +Their faith's heart beats, though her head swims +Too giddily to guide her limbs, +Disabled by their palsy-stroke +From propping mine. Though Rome's gross yoke +Drops off, no more to be endured, +Her teaching is not so obscured +By errors and perversities, +That no truth shines athwart the lies: +And he, whose eye detects a spark +Even where, to man's, the whole seems dark, +May well see flame where each beholder +Acknowledges the embers smoulder. +But I, a mere man, fear to quit +The clue God gave me as most fit +To guide my footsteps through life's maze, +Because himself discerns all ways +Open to reach him: I, a man +Able to mark where faith began +To swerve aside, till from its summit +Judgment drops her damning plummet, +Pronouncing such a fatal space +Departed from the founder's base: +He will not bid me enter too, +But rather sit, as now I do, +Awaiting his return outside. +--'Twas thus my reason straight replied +And joyously I turned, and pressed +The garment's skirt upon my breast, +Until, afresh its light suffusing me, +My heart cried--What has been abusing me +That I should wait here lonely and coldly, +Instead of rising, entering boldly, +Baring truth's face, and letting drift +Her veils of lies as they choose to shift? +Do these men praise him? I will raise +My voice up to their point of praise! +I see the error; but above +The scope of error, see the love.-- +Oh, love of those first Christian days! +--Fanned so soon into a blaze, +From the spark preserved by the trampled sect, +That the antique sovereign Intellect +Which then sat ruling in the world, +Like a change in dreams, was hurled +From the throne he reigned upon: +You looked up and he was gone. +Gone, his glory of the pen! +--Love, with Greece and Rome in ken, +Bade her scribes abhor the trick +Of poetry and rhetoric, +And exult with hearts set free, +In blessed imbecility +Scrawled, perchance, on some torn sheet +Leaving Sallust incomplete +Gone, his pride of sculptor, painter! +--Love, while able to acquaint her +While the thousand statues yet +Fresh from chisel, pictures wet +From brush, she saw on every side, +Chose rather with an infant's pride +To frame those portents which impart +Such unction to true Christian Art. +Gone, music too! The air was stirred +By happy wings: Terpander's* bird +*[Footnote: Terpander, a famous Lesbian musician and lyric poet, 670 B.C.] +(That, when the cold came, fled away) +Would tarry not the wintry day,-- +As more-enduring sculpture must, +Till filthy saints rebuked the gust +With which they chanced to get a sight +Of some dear naked Aphrodite +They glanced a thought above the toes of, +By breaking zealously her nose off. +Love, surely, from that music's lingering, +Might have filched her organ-fingering, +Nor chosen rather to set prayings +To hog-grunts, praises to horse-neighings. +Love was the startling thing, the new: +Love was the all-sufficient too; +And seeing that, you see the rest: +As a babe can find its mother's breast +As well in darkness as in light, +Love shut our eyes, and all seemed right. +True, the world's eyes are open now: +--Less need for me to disallow +Some few that keep Love's zone unbuckled, +Peevish as ever to be suckled, +Lulled by the same old baby-prattle +With intermixture of the rattle, +When she would have them creep, stand steady +Upon their feet, or walk already, +Not to speak of trying to climb. +I will be wise another time, +And not desire a wall between us, + When next I see a church-roof cover +So many species of one genus, + All with foreheads bearing _lover_ +Written above the earnest eyes of them; + All with breasts that beat for beauty, +Whether sublimed, to the surprise of them, + In noble daring, steadfast duty, +The heroic in passion, or in action,-- +Or, lowered for sense's satisfaction, +To the mere outside of human creatures, +Mere perfect form and faultless features. +What? with all Rome here, whence to levy + Such contributions to their appetite, +With women and men in a gorgeous bevy, + They take, as it were, a padlock, clap it tight +On their southern eyes, restrained from + feeding +On the glories of their ancient reading, +On the beauties of their modern singing, +On the wonders of the builder's bringing, +On the majesties of Art around them,-- + And, all these loves, late struggling incessant, +When faith has at last united and bound them, + They offer up to God for a present? +Why, I will, on the whole, be rather proud of it,-- + And, only taking the act in reference +To the other recipients who might have allowed it, + I will rejoice that God had the preference. + +XII + +So I summed up my new resolves: + Too much love there can never be. +And where the intellect devolves + Its function on love exclusively, +I, a man who possesses both, +Will accept the provision, nothing loth, +--Will feast my love, then depart elsewhere, +That my intellect may find its share. +And ponder, O soul, the while thou departest, +And see them applaud the great heart of the artist, +Who, examining the capabilities + Of the block of marble he has to fashion + Into a type of thought or passion,-- +Not always, using obvious facilities, +Shapes it, as any artist can, +Into a perfect symmetrical man, +Complete from head to foot of the life-size, +Such as old Adam stood in his wife's eyes,-- +But, now and then, bravely aspires to consummate +A Colossus by no means so easy to come at, +And uses the whole of his block for the bust, + Leaving the mind of the public to finish it, +Since cut it ruefully short he must: +On the face alone he expends his devotion, + He rather would mar than resolve to diminish it, +--Saying, "Applaud me for this grand notion +"Of what a face may be! As for completing it + "In breast and body and limbs, do that, you!" +All hail! I fancy how, happily meeting it, + A trunk and legs would perfect the statue, +Could man carve so as to answer volition. + And how much nobler than petty cavils, + Were a hope to find, in my spirit-travels, +Some artist of another ambition, +Who, having a block to carve, no bigger, +Has spent his power on the opposite quest, + And believed to begin at the feet was best-- +For so may I see, ere I die, the whole figure! + +XIII + +No sooner said than out in the night! +My heart lighter and more light: +And still, as before, I was walking swift, + With my senses settling fast and steadying, +But my body caught up in the whirl and drift + Of the vesture's amplitude, still eddying +On just before me, still to be followed, + As it carried me after with its motion, +--What shall I say?--as a path, were hollowed, + And a man went weltering through the ocean, +Sucked along in the flying wake +Of the luminous water-snake. + +XIV + +Alone! I am left alone once more-- + (Save for the garment's extreme fold + Abandoned still to bless my hold) +Alone, beside the entrance-door +Of a sort of temple,-perhaps a college, +--Like nothing I ever saw before +At home in England, to my knowledge. +The tall old quaint irregular town! + It may be... though which, I can't affirm... any + Of the famous middle-age towns of Germany: +And this flight of stairs where I sit down, +Is it Halle, Weimar, Cassel, Frankfort +Or Gottingen, I have to thank for't? +It may be Gottingen,--most likely. +Through the open door I catch obliquely +Glimpses of a lecture-hall; + And not a bad assembly neither, +Ranged decent and symmetrical + On benches, waiting what's to see there: +Which, holding still by the vesture's hem, +I also resolve to see with them, +Cautious this time how I suffer to slip +The chance of joining in fellowship +With any that call themselves his friends; + As these folk do, I have a notion. + But hist--a buzzing and emotion! +All settle themselves, the while ascends +By the creaking rail to the lecture-desk, + Step by step, deliberate + Because of his cranium's over-freight, +Three parts sublime to one grotesque, +If I have proved an accurate guesser, +The hawk-nosed high-cheek-boned Professor. +I felt at once as if there ran +A shoot of love from my heart to the man-- +That sallow virgin-minded studious + Martyr to mild enthusiasm, +As he uttered a kind of cough-preludious + That woke my sympathetic spasm, +(Beside some spitting that made me sorry) +And stood, surveying his auditory +With a wan pure look, well-nigh celestial,-- + Those blue eyes had survived so much! + While, under the foot they could not smutch, +Lay all the fleshly and the bestial. +Over he bowed, and arranged his notes, +Till the auditory's clearing of throats +Was done with, died into a silence; + And, when each glance was upward sent, + Each bearded mouth composed intent, +And a pin might be heard drop half a mile hence,-- +He pushed back higher his spectacles, +Let the eyes stream out like lamps from cells, +And giving his head of hair--a hake + Of undressed tow, for colour and quantity-- +One rapid and impatient shake, + (As our own Young England adjusts a jaunty tie +When about to impart, on mature digestion, +Some thrilling view of the surplice-question) +--The Professor's grave voice, sweet though hoarse, +Broke into his Christmas-Eve discourse. + +XV + +And he began it by observing + How reason dictated that men +Should rectify the natural swerving, + By a reversion, now and then, +To the well-heads of knowledge, few +And far away, whence rolling grew +The life-stream wide whereat we drink, +Commingled, as we needs must think, +With waters alien to the source; +To do which, aimed this eve's discourse; +Since, where could be a fitter time +For tracing backward to its prime +This Christianity, this lake, +This reservoir, whereat we slake, +From one or other bank, our thirst? +So, he proposed inquiring first +Into the various sources whence + This Myth of Christ is derivable; +Demanding from the evidence, + (Since plainly no such life was livable) +How these phenomena should class? +Whether 'twere best opine Christ was, +Or never was at all, or whether +He was and was not, both together-- +It matters little for the name, +So the idea be left the same. +Only, for practical purpose' sake, +'Twas obviously as well to take +The popular story,--understanding + How the ineptitude of the time, +And the penman's prejudice, expanding + Fact into fable fit for the clime, +Had, by slow and sure degrees, translated it + Into this myth, this Individuum,-- +Which, when reason had strained and abated it +Of foreign matter, left, for residuum, +A Man!--a right true man, however, +Whose work was worthy a man's endeavour: +Work, that gave warrant almost sufficient + To his disciples, for rather believing +He was just omnipotent and omniscient, + As it gives to us, for as frankly receiving +His word, their tradition,--which, though it meant +Something entirely different +From all that those who only heard it, +In their simplicity thought and averred it, +Had yet a meaning quite as respectable: +For, among other doctrines delectable, +Was he not surely the first to insist on + The natural sovereignty of our race?-- + Here the lecturer came to a pausing-place. +And while his cough, like a drouthy piston, +Tried to dislodge the husk that grew to him, +I seized the occasion of bidding adieu to him, +The vesture still within my hand. + + +XVI + +I could interpret its command. +This time he would not bid me enter +The exhausted air-bell of the Critic. +Truth's atmosphere may grow mephitic +When Papist struggles with Dissenter, +Impregnating its pristine clarity, +--One, by his daily fare's vulgarity, + Its gust of broken meat and garlic; +--One, by his soul's too-much presuming +To turn the frankincense's fuming + And vapours of the candle starlike +Into the cloud her wings she buoys on. + Each, that thus sets the pure air seething, + May poison it for healthy breathing-- +But the Critic leaves no air to poison; +Pumps out with ruthless ingenuity +Atom by atom, and leaves you--vacuity. +Thus much of Christ does he reject? +And what retain? His intellect? +What is it I must reverence duly? +Poor intellect for worship, truly, +Which tells me simply what was told + (If mere morality, bereft + Of the God in Christ, be all that's left) +Elsewhere by voices manifold; +With this advantage, that the stater + Made nowise the important stumble + Of adding, he, the sage and humble, +Was also one with the Creator. +You urge Christ's followers' simplicity: + But how does shifting blame, evade it? +Have wisdom's words no more felicity? + The stumbling-block, his speech--who laid it? +How comes it that for one found able +To sift the truth of it from fable, +Millions believe it to the letter? +Christ's goodness, then--does that fare better? +Strange goodness, which upon the score + Of being goodness, the mere due +Of man to fellow-man, much more + To God,--should take another view +Of its possessor's privilege, +And bid him rule his race! You pledge +Your fealty to such rule? What, all-- +From heavenly John and Attic Paul, +And that brave weather-battered Peter, +Whose stout faith only stood completer +For buffets, sinning to be pardoned, +As, more his hands hauled nets, they hardened,-- +All, down to you, the man of men, +Professing here at Gottingen, +Compose Christ's flock! They, you and I, +Are sheep of a good man! And why? +The goodness,--how did he acquire it? +Was it self-gained, did God inspire it? +Choose which; then tell me, on what ground +Should its possessor dare propound +His claim to rise o'er us an inch? + Were goodness all some man's invention, + Who arbitrarily made mention +What we should follow, and whence flinch,-- +What qualities might take the style + Of right and wrong,--and had such guessing + Met with as general acquiescing +As graced the alphabet erewhile, +When A got leave an Ox to be, +No Camel (quoth the Jews) like G*,-- +*[Footnote: Gimel, the Hebrew G, means camel.] +For thus inventing thing and title +Worship were that man's fit requital. +But if the common conscience must +Be ultimately judge, adjust +Its apt name to each quality +Already known,--I would decree +Worship for such mere demonstration + And simple work of nomenclature, + Only the day I praised, not nature, +But Harvey, for the circulation. +I would praise such a Christ, with pride +And joy, that he, as none beside, +Had taught us how to keep the mind +God gave him, as God gave his kind, +Freer than they from fleshly taint: +I would call such a Christ our Saint, +As I declare our Poet, him +Whose insight makes all others dim: +A thousand poets pried at life, +And only one amid the strife +Rose to be Shakespeare: each shall take +His crown, I'd say, for the world's sake-- +Though some objected--"Had we seen +"The heart and head of each, what screen +"Was broken there to give them light, +"While in ourselves it shuts the sight, +"We should no more admire, perchance, +"That these found truth out at a glance, +"Than marvel how the bat discerns +"Some pitch-dark cavern's fifty turns, +"Led by a finer tact, a gift +"He boasts, which other birds must shift +"Without, and grope as best they can." +No, freely I would praise the man,-- +Nor one whit more, if he contended +That gift of his, from God descended. +Ah friend, what gift of man's does not? +No nearer something, by a jot, +Rise an infinity of nothings + Than one: take Euclid for your teacher: +Distinguish kinds: do crownings, clothings, + Make that creator which was creature? +Multiply gifts upon man's head, +And what, when all's done, shall be said +But--the more gifted he, I ween! + That one's made Christ, this other, Pilate, +And this might be all that has been,-- + So what is there to frown or smile at? +What is left for us, save, in growth +Of soul, to rise up, far past both, +From the gift looking to the giver, +And from the cistern to the river, +And from the finite to infinity, +And from man's dust to God's divinity? + + +XVII + +Take all in a word: the truth in God's breast +Lies trace for trace upon curs impressed: +Though he is so bright and we so dim, +We are made in his image to witness him: +And were no eye in us to tell, + Instructed by no inner sense, +The light of heaven from the dark of hell, + That light would want its evidence,-- +Though justice, good and truth were still +Divine, if, by some demon's will, +Hatred and wrong had been proclaimed +Law through the worlds, and right misnamed. +No mere exposition of morality +Made or in part or in totality, +Should win you to give it worship, therefore: +And, if no better proof you will care for, +--Whom do you count the worst man upon earth? + Be sure, he knows, in his conscience, more +Of what right is, than arrives at birth + In the best man's acts that we bow before: +This last knows better--true, but my fact is, +'Tis one thing to know, and another to practise. +And thence I conclude that the real God-function +Is to furnish a motive and injunction +For practising what we know already. +And such an injunction and such a motive +As the God in Christ, do you waive, and "heady, +"High-minded," hang your tablet-votive +Outside the fane on a finger-post? +Morality to the uttermost, +Supreme in Christ as we all confess, +Why need we prove would avail no jot +To make him God, if God he were not? +What is the point where himself lays stress? +Does the precept run "Believe in good, +"In justice, truth, now understood +"For the first time?"--or, "Believe in me, +"Who lived and died, yet essentially +"Am Lord of Life?" Whoever can take +The same to his heart and for mere love's sake +Conceive of the love,--that man obtains +A new truth; no conviction gains +Of an old one only, made intense +By a fresh appeal to his faded sense. + + +XVIII + +Can it be that he stays inside? + Is the vesture left me to commune with? + Could my soul find aught to sing in tune with +Even at this lecture, if she tried? +Oh, let me at lowest sympathize +With the lurking drop of blood that lies +In the desiccated brain's white roots +Without throb for Christ's attributes, +As the lecturer makes his special boast! +If love's dead there, it has left a ghost. +Admire we, how from heart to brain + (Though to say so strike the doctors dumb) +One instinct rises and falls again, + Restoring the equilibrium. +And how when the Critic had done his best, +And the pearl of price, at reason's test, +Lay dust and ashes levigable +On the Professor's lecture-table,-- +When we looked for the inference and monition +That our faith, reduced to such condition, +Be swept forthwith to its natural dust-hole,-- + He bids us, when we least expect it, +Take back our faith,--if it be not just whole, + Yet a pearl indeed, as his tests affect it, +Which fact pays damage done rewardingly, +So, prize we our dust and ashes accordingly! +"Go home and venerate the myth +"I thus have experimented with-- +"This man, continue to adore him +"Rather than all who went before him, +"And all who ever followed after!"-- + Surely for this I may praise you, my brother! +Will you take the praise in tears or laughter? + That's one point gained: can I compass another? +Unlearned love was safe from spurning-- +Can't we respect your loveless learning? +Let us at least give learning honour! +What laurels had we showered upon her, +Girding her loins up to perturb +Our theory of the Middle Verb; +Or Turk-like brandishing a scimitar +O'er anapasts in comic-trimeter; +Or curing the halt and maimed 'Iketides,' +[Footnote: "The Suppliants," a fragment of a play by Aeschylus.] +While we lounged on at our indebted ease: +Instead of which, a tricksy demon +Sets her at Titus or Philemon! +When ignorance wags his ears of leather +And hates God's word, 'tis altogether; +Nor leaves he his congenial thistles +To go and browse on Paul's Epistles. +--And you, the audience, who might ravage +The world wide, enviably savage, +Nor heed the cry of the retriever, +More than Herr Heine (before his fever),-- +I do not tell a lie so arrant + As say my passion's wings are furled up, +And, without plainest heavenly warrant, + I were ready and glad to give the world up-- +But still, when you rub brow meticulous, + And ponder the profit of turning holy + If not for God's, for your own sake solely, +--God forbid I should find you ridiculous! +Deduce from this lecture all that eases you, +Nay, call yourselves, if the calling pleases you, +"Christians,"--abhor the deist's pravity,-- +Go on, you shall no more move my gravity +Than, when I see boys ride a-cockhorse, +I find it in my heart to embarrass them +By hinting that their stick's a mock horse, +And they really carry what they say carries them. + + +XIX + +So sat I talking with my mind. + I did not long to leave the door + And find a new church, as before, +But rather was quiet and inclined +To prolong and enjoy the gentle resting +From further tracking and trying and testing. +"This tolerance is a genial mood!" +(Said I, and a little pause ensued). +"One trims the bark 'twixt shoal and shelf, + "And sees, each side, the good effects of it, +"A value for religion's self, + "A carelessness about the sects of it. +"Let me enjoy my own conviction, + "Not watch my neighbour's faith with fretfulness, +"Still spying there some dereliction + "Of truth, perversity, forgetfulness!" +Better a mild indifferentism, + "Teaching that both our faiths (though duller +"His shine through a dull spirit's prism) + "Originally had one colour! +"Better pursue a pilgrimage + "Through ancient and through modern times + "To many peoples, various climes, +"Where I may see saint, savage, sage +"Fuse their respective creeds in one +"Before the general Father's throne!" + + +XX + +--'Twas the horrible storm began afresh! +The black night caught me in his mesh, +Whirled me up, and flung me prone. +I was left on the college-step alone. +I looked, and far there, ever fleeting +Far, far away, the receding gesture, +And looming of the lessening vesture!-- +Swept forward from my stupid hand, +While I watched my foolish heart expand +In the lazy glow of benevolence, + O'er the various modes of man's belief. +I sprang up with fear's vehemence. + Needs must there be one way, our chief +Best way of worship: let me strive +To find it, and when found, contrive +My fellows also take their share! +This constitutes my earthly care: +God's is above it and distinct. +For I, a man, with men am linked +But not a brute with brutes; no gain +That I experience, must remain +Unshared: but should my best endeavour +To share it, fail--subsisteth ever +God's care above, and I exult +That God, by God's own ways occult, +May--doth, I will believe--bring back +All wanderers to a single track. +Meantime, I can but testify +God's care for me--no more, can I-- +It is but for myself I know; + The world rolls witnessing around me + Only to leave me as it found me; +Men cry there, but my ear is slow: +There races flourish or decay +--What boots it, while yon lucid way +Loaded with stars divides the vault? +But soon my soul repairs its fault +When, sharpening sense's hebetude, +She turns on my own life! So viewed, +No mere mote's-breadth but teems immense +With witnessings of providence: +And woe to me if when I look +Upon that record, the sole book +Unsealed to me, I take no heed +Of any warning that I read! +Have I been sure, this Christmas-Eve, +God's own hand did the rainbow weave, +Whereby the truth from heaven slid +Into my soul?--I cannot bid +The world admit he stooped to heal +My soul, as if in a thunder-peal +Where one heard noise, and one saw flame, +I only knew he named my name: +But what is the world to me, for sorrow +Or joy in its censure, when to-morrow +It drops the remark, with just-turned head +Then, on again, 'That man is dead'? +Yes, but for me--my name called,--drawn +As a conscript's lot from the lap's black yawn, +He has dipt into on a battle-dawn: +Bid out of life by a nod, a glance,-- +Stumbling, mute-mazed, at nature's chance, +With a rapid finger circled round, +Fixed to the first poor inch of ground +To fight from, where his foot was found; +Whose ear but a minute since lay free +To the wide camp's buzz and gossipry-- +Summoned, a solitary man +To end his life where his life began, +From the safe glad rear, to the dreadful van! +Soul of mine, hadst thou caught and held +By the hem of the vesture!-- + + +XXI + + And I caught +At the flying robe, and unrepelled + Was lapped again in its folds full-fraught +With warmth and wonder and delight, +God's mercy being infinite. +For scarce had the words escaped my tongue, +When, at a passionate bound, I sprung, +Out of the wandering world of rain, +Into the little chapel again. + + +XXII + +How else was I found there, bolt upright + On my bench, as if I had never left it? +--Never flung out on the common at night, + Nor met the storm and wedge-like cleft it, +Seen the raree-show of Peter's successor, +Or the laboratory of the Professor! +For the Vision, that was true, I wist, +True as that heaven and earth exist. +There sat my friend, the yellow and tall, +With his neck and its wen in the selfsame place; +Yet my nearest neighbour's cheek showed gall. + She had slid away a contemptuous space: +And the old fat woman, late so placable, +Eyed me with symptoms hardly mistakable, +Of her milk of kindness turning rancid. +In short, a spectator might have fancied +That I had nodded, betrayed by slumber. +Yet kept my scat, a warning ghastly, +Through the heads of the sermon, nine in number, +And woke up now at the tenth and lastly. +But again, could such disgrace have happened? + Each friend at my elbow had surely nudged it; +And, as for the sermon, where did my nap end? + Unless I heard it, could I have judged it? +Could I report as I do at the close, +First, the preacher speaks through his nose: +Second, his gesture is too emphatic: + Thirdly, to waive what's pedagogic, + The subject-matter itself lacks logic: +Fourthly, the English is ungrammatic. +Great news! the preacher is found no Pascal, +Whom, if I pleased, I might to the task call +Of making square to a finite eye +The circle of infinity, +And find so all-but-just-succeeding! +Great news! the sermon proves no reading +Where bee-like in the flowers I bury me, +Like Taylor's the immortal Jeremy! +And now that I know the very worst of him, +What was it I thought to obtain at first of him? +Ha! Is God mocked, as he asks, +Shall I take on me to change his tasks, +And dare, despatched to a river-head + For a simple draught of the element, + Neglect the thing for which he sent, +And return with another thing instead?-- +Saying, "Because the water found +"Welling up from the underground, +"Is mingled with the taints of earth, +"While thou, I know, dost laugh at dearth, +"And couldst, at wink or word, convulse +"The world with the leap of a river-pulse,-- +"Therefore I turned from the oozings muddy, + "And bring thee a chalice I found, instead; +"See the brave veins in the breccia ruddy! + "One would suppose that the marble bled. +"What matters the water? A hope I have nursed: + "The waterless cup will quench my thirst." +--Better have knelt at the poorest stream +That trickles in pain from the straitest rift! +For the less or the more is all God's gift, +Who blocks up or breaks wide the granite-seam. +And here, is there water or not, to drink? +I then, in ignorance and weakness, +Taking God's help, have attained to think +My heart does best to receive in meekness +That mode of worship, as most to his mind, +Where earthly aids being cast behind, +His All in All appears serene +With the thinnest human veil between, +Letting the mystic lamps, the seven, +The many motions of his spirit, +Pass, as they list, to earth from heaven. +For the preacher's merit or demerit, +It were to be wished the flaws were fewer +In the earthen vessel, holding treasure +Which lies as safe in a golden ewer; + But the main thing is, does it hold good measure? +Heaven soon sets right all other matters!-- + Ask, else, these ruins of humanity, +This flesh worn out to rags and tatters, + This soul at struggle with insanity, +Who thence take comfort--can I doubt?-- +Which an empire gained were a loss without. +May it be mine! And let us hope +That no worse blessing befall the Pope, +Turned sick at last of to-day's buffoonery, + Of posturings and petticoatings, + Beside his Bourbon bully's gloatings +In the bloody orgies of drunk poltroonery! +Nor may the Professor forego its peace + At Gottingen presently, when, in the dusk +Of his life, if his cough, as I fear, should increase, + Prophesied of by that horrible husk-- +When thicker and thicker the darkness fills +The world through his misty spectacles, +And he gropes for something more substantial + Than a fable, myth or personification,-- +May Christ do for him what no mere man shall, + And stand confessed as the God of salvation! +Meantime, in the still recurring fear + Lest myself, at unawares, be found, + While attacking the choice of my neighbours round, +With none of my own made--I choose here! +The giving out of the hymn reclaims me; +I have done: and if any blames me, +Thinking that merely to touch in brevity + The topics I dwell on, were unlawful,-- +Or worse, that I trench, with undue levity, + On the bounds of the holy and the awful,-- +I praise the heart, and pity the head of him, +And refer myself to THEE, instead of him, +Who head and heart alike discernest + Looking below light speech we utter, + When frothy spume and frequent sputter +Prove that the soul's depths boil in earnest! +May truth shine out, stand ever before us! +I put up pencil and join chorus +To Hepzibah Tune, without further apology, + The last five verses of the third section + Of the seventeenth hymn of Whitfield's Collection, +To conclude with the doxology. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Eve, by Robert Browning + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVE *** + +This file should be named chmsv10.txt or chmsv10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, chmsv11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, chmsv10a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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