Why are you disappointed in me?
"Where are you?" he asked.
The kids are in the next room.
Are we getting close?
These are my other two daughters, Dulce and Alondra.
What time are we going to leave tomorrow?
Where are you going?
"You forget that stairs are unnecessary," observed the Wizard.
Are wou pwoud of me?
You are my hero.
We are already well on our way.
While entertaining, they are never, ever correct.
There are bears near by.
But you are alike in some ways.
But you must remember I'm old, and my dashing days are past and gone.
It seems to me that the great difficulty of writing is to make the language of the educated mind express our confused ideas, half feelings, half thoughts, when we are little more than bundles of instinctive tendencies.
He thinks you are better than us.
"What are you doing," he finally asked.
"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna.
"Hello!" he said, seeing her, "are you Dorothy Gale?"
The kids are asleep.
You are my only son.
"I really believe they are all here," said one.
I don't dispute the cliché, "Those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it."
If they are to cross the river, hang two.
They have decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to burn ours.
We are all early.
Mr. Anagnos, in speaking of my composition on the cities, has said, "These ideas are poetic in their essence."
Likewise my compositions are made up of crude notions of my own, inlaid with the brighter thoughts and riper opinions of the authors I have read.
But how are you to get that balance?
You are only a very little boy, and you will learn a great deal as you grow bigger.
Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes.
You are staying the whole evening, I hope?
Fishes are not animals, and they are as cold and moist as the vegetables themselves.
"Are they good seats?" she asked.
Are you going to change?
He and Jonathan are my cheerleaders now.
I don't believe you are a Wizard at all!
Some of you, we all know, are poor, find it hard to live, are sometimes, as it were, gasping for breath.
Besides, those are my animals.
They are getting ready to start this very night.
Then there are the people who reason the future will be better.
A few impressions stand out vividly from the first years of my life; but "the shadows of the prison-house are on the rest."
How much more this difficulty must be augmented in the case of those who are both deaf and blind!
You are so beautiful.
Are you trying to protect her now?
Are you not vegetable, also?
Watch, and as soon as the soldiers are ready to start, hang a lantern in the tower of the old North Church.
The soldiers are coming!
I think they are all having fun with Alex.
"I'm sure we are in no danger," said Dorothy, in a sober voice.
And you are little Dorothy, from Kansas.
You are welcome to what we have.
Why should they begin digging their graves as soon as they are born?
Are you satisfied now? said he.
"You are my father," Alex conceded without emotion.
"We are," Alex answered curtly.
What are you taking away?
They are in my inside pocket now.
There are no cows here to give milk; or any mice, or even grasshoppers.
"They look like doorways," said Dorothy; "only there are no stairs to get to them."
"Why, they are driving us toward the Black Pit, into which they threatened to cast us," replied the kitten.
"Yes, dear," her mistress replied; "there are people living in this house, although we cannot see them.
However, I often have thought that a second sentence should follow: "Also, those who do know history are doomed to repeat it."
I feel that her being is inseparable from my own, and that the footsteps of my life are in hers.
Some things are really necessaries of life in some circles, the most helpless and diseased, which in others are luxuries merely, and in others still are entirely unknown.
We must cease raving if we are sons of our Fatherland!
We are back to that?
I mean, there are different kinds of love.
What are we going to do today, Dad?
"These are from Alex," she said, and handed her matching earrings.
You are so funny.
You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
I guess violet eyes are unusual, but I think they look the same from my viewpoint.
You are the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.
Are you going to tell me who he is?
What are you doing over here?
If he treats me differently than others, I'm sure it's because we are married.
Are you sure that's the way you want it?
But weekends are best.
So tell me, are you enjoying this vacation?
"As for that, we are in the same scrape ourselves," answered Dorothy, cheerfully.
If there are, they are liable to be glass oats!
I perceive that you are curiously constructed, and that if you cannot breathe you cannot keep alive.
We are all vegetable, in this country.
People on top of the earth are all meat.
But it took a good many years for them to grow as large and fine as they are now.
"How long do you live, after you are picked?" asked Dorothy.
We are quite solid inside our bodies, and have no need to eat, any more than does a potato.
"No," answered the little man, "you are quite right.
"They are from the Island of Teenty-Weent," said the Wizard, "where everything is small because it's a small island.
"Cats are dreadful creatures!" said one of them.
"I'm glad we are not fishes!" said another.
"What are those holes up there?" enquired the boy, pointing to some openings that appeared near the top of the dome.
Let us see your arts, and the sorceries you are able to perform.
But never mind; be brave, my friends, and I will go and tell our masters where you are, and get them to come to your rescue.
"Here are strangers, mama!" cried the shrill and childish voice of some unseen person.
"Well, well!" said the Wizard; "are there really people in this room?"
And--pardon me for the foolish question--but, are you all invisible?
Are you surprised that you are unable to see the people of Voe?
Are you surprised that you are unable to see the people of Voe?
Are these bears here?
"Are the bears invis'ble, too?" asked the girl.
We who live here much prefer to be invisible; for we can still hug and kiss one another, and are quite safe from the bears.
"What are Gargoyles?" asked Zeb.
"True," he replied; "and in my satchel are other useful things to fight with."
You are strangers in the Valley of Voe, and do not seem to know our ways; so I will try to save you.
"Are they real?" asked Zeb, in an awed voice.
They are the Cloud Fairies.
"Are we only half way up?" enquired the boy, in a discouraged tone.
"What are your products?" enquired the Wizard.
"In this," he continued, "are many assorted flutters.
They are invaluable to make flags flutter on a still day, when there is no wind.
You will notice my braids are tied with yellow, pink, brown, red, green, white and black; but I have no blue ribbons.
"You see, Eureka," remarked Dorothy, reprovingly, "you are making yourself disliked.
There are certain things proper for a kitten to eat; but I never heard of a kitten eating a pig, under ANY cir'stances.
They are no bigger than mice, and I'm sure mice are proper for me to eat.
You haven't many teeth left, Jim, but the few you have are sharp enough to make me shudder.
"Those wooden things are impossible to hurt," he said, "and all the damage Jim has done to them is to knock a few splinters from their noses and ears.
These revolvers are good for six shots each, but when those are gone we shall be helpless.
"Thank goodness we are together again, even if we are prisoners," sighed the little girl.
"They are probably keeping us for some ceremony," the Wizard answered, reflectively; "but there is no doubt they intend to kill us as dead as possible in a short time."
All people need rest, even if they are made of wood, and as there is no night here they select a certain time of the day in which to sleep or doze.
"Some of them are crooked," objected the horse.
"Probably the Gargoyles are still busy trying to put out the fire," returned the Wizard.
"Where are they?" enquired the girl.
They are in little pockets all around the edge of this cavern.
"No," answered the owner of the big yellow eyes which were blinking at them so steadily; "you are wrong about that.
"Young dragons, of course; but we are not allowed to call ourselves real dragons until we get our full growth," was the reply.
"Oh; are you hungry?" enquired Dorothy, drawing back.
"How old are you?" enquired Zeb, who stared at the yellow eyes as if fascinated.
Quite young, I grieve to say; and all of my brothers and sisters that you see here are practically my own age.
Then, after a moment's thought, she asked: Are we friends or enemies?
Mother usually knows what she is about, but she made a mistake this time; for you are sure to escape us unless you come too near, and you probably won't do that.
"Permit me to say," returned the dragonette, "that you are rather impolite to call us names, knowing that we cannot resent your insults.
And the whole thing has been unnatural because that cat and I are both able to talk your language, and to understand the words you say.
"Well," said another piglet, "you are a wizard, are you not?"
"Do you mean that Princess Ozma will see this cave in her enchanted picture, and see all of us here, and what we are doing?" demanded Zeb.
"Who are they?" asked the boy.
They are still proud of their former Wizard, and often speak of you kindly.
Are there any horses in Oz?
"In that case you are very welcome!" cried all the servants, and it pleased the Wizard to note the respect with which the royal retainers bowed before him.
"There are no stables here," said the Wizard, "unless some have been built since I went away."
So, as you are now too old to wander abroad and work in a circus, I offer you a home here as long as you live.
"How are your brains?" enquired the little humbug, as he grasped the soft, stuffed hands of his old friend.
I'm very certain, Oz, that you gave me the best brains in the world, for I can think with them day and night, when all other brains are fast asleep.
"You are at least six feet high, and that is higher than any other animal in this country," said the Steward.
For goodness sake, what sort of a being are you?
There are no real horses here at all.
"Is it possible that you are a Real Horse?" he murmured.
You are certainly the most beautiful creature I ever beheld.
Real horses, like myself, are made of flesh and blood and bones.
"I can see the bones all right," replied the Sawhorse, "and they are admirable and distinct.
You, poor thing! cannot even bleed when you are hurt.
These are friends, and will do you no harm.
These royal beasts are both warm friends of little Dorothy and have come to the Emerald City this morning to welcome her to our fairyland.
His joints, I notice, are swollen and overgrown, and he lacks flesh and is old in years.
Are you here again?
"Of course not," added Jim, with a touch of scorn; "those little wooden legs of yours are not half as long as my own."
"That is what we are trying to find out," remarked the Scarecrow.
Why are you so bad?
So, if you are innocent, Eureka, you must tell the Princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet.
All the piglets are exactly alike, so no one can dispute your word.
My thoughts are always--
"Are you still seeing with your mind's eye?" enquired the Scarecrow.
Are you guilty, or not guilty?
"General, you are in danger here," said an officer who was riding with him.
The redcoats are coming, they said to each other.
"Because the tracks are always the same," answered David Brown.
"Here are the tracks again," said Putnam.
The king's enemies are even now advancing, and all are ready for the fight.
There were no broad, smooth highways as there are now.
Just step inside and make believe that you are Dean Swift.
And whose sheep are these?
"There are few men who can draw so good a picture of a fly," he said.
"I have heard that you are the wisest man in the world," she said, "and surely this simple thing ought not to puzzle you."
And the queen said, You are wise, King Solomon.
"Come with us," they said, "and we will teach you that the king's soldiers are not to be trifled with."
You are going to Exeter with me.
"Children," he said, "we are going to play a new game.
It was no easy thing to learn these letters and how they are put together to make words.
Mother, what are the clouds made of?
Read books that are true.
Read about things that are beautiful and good.
"Well," said he, "all these rich foods that were prepared for the feast are yours.
"You are a brave lad to be joking with robbers" said the man; and he also hurried on to a more promising field.
But are there any gentle, harmless animals in your fields?
"These people are poor because they have been too lazy to work," he said.
His mother and his wife are still there.
They are noble women, and they love Rome.
"Are you lately from Italy?" he asked.
"We are," they answered.
And many other stories are told of this man's great love and pity for the timid creatures which lived in the fields and woods.
Many other stories are told of this wonderful slave.
There are great storms on the sea.
Many ships are wrecked and the sailors are drowned.
_Dearest Carl; You are a good boy to send me all your wages, for now I can pay the rent and buy some warm clothing for your little sister.
The woman answered, "All travelers are welcome for the sake of one; and you are welcome"
Are you the Bruce, and are you all alone?
Are you the Bruce, and are you all alone?
These are friends, not enemies.
They are resting there for the night and have no fear of danger from us.
"You are a brave fellow, Mr. Ant," he said; "but you have a heavy load to carry."
It was no trouble to me, and you are welcome.
"What are you making, Robert?" she asked.
In it there are numberless trees and flowers and rivers and waterfalls, and other things to make the heart glad.
He seems weak, and his eyes are dull.
Poor people are often sick.
Why are they sick?
"Who are those men, and why do their faces look so joyless?" asked the prince.
What are they doing by the roadside?
"They are poor men, and they are working to improve the king's highway," was the answer.
"Most of the people in the world are poor," said the coachman.
Their lives are spent in toiling for the rich.
Their joys are few; their sorrows are many.
They are not mine.
We must let her know that you are safe.
But I hope you are now ready to come home with us.
"Well, my boy," said the king, "are you looking for your father?"
We never count our fish before they are caught.
"How much will you take for the fish that you are drawing in?" he asked.
"Well, I will give three pieces of silver for all that are in the net," answered the merchant.
"We agree with you," said the messengers; "and we present the prize to you because you are the wisest of the wise."
"You are mistaken," answered Pittacus.
"I have heard all about that tripod," he said, "and I know why you are carrying it from one place to another.
"We hope that you are the man," said the messengers.
"Who are they?" asked the messengers.
The famous men of whom I have told you in this story are commonly called the Seven Wise Men of Greece.
I refer to history extensively in these pages because I believe historical people are exactly like us, only in different circumstances.
At the very least, history can clearly show the range of outcomes that are likely.
Whether things in the future stay the same as they are today or change from what they are today, both are understood in terms of the current reality.
ATMs replaced human bank tellers, so they are called "Automated Teller Machines."
The 1920s to 1950s renderings of what people thought the future would look like are full of things like personal jetpacks and flying cars.
We are getting there, though.
We are at the point, finally, where we are seeing uses of the Internet that have no offline corollary.
The mark of these technologies is that they are greeted with universal skepticism at first.
These, to me, are the most exciting companies to look at.
She reasons: When we think of social networks, we are individualistic in our approach.
The answers to those questions are what define the Internet.
I spend less time waiting for Excel to do a recalculation of my formulas today than I did on my 386 in the 1990s, even though my spreadsheets are thousands of times more complex.
I doubt you need me to prove these assertions—they are probably part of your daily experience.
Now kids are making animated movies on handheld tablets.
Those films are being made now.
We don't need our computers to be infinitely fast, just a whole lot faster than they are today.
On the Internet are far fewer passive observers.
The amount of writing we are talking about is staggering.
As I write this, something like fifty million blogs and billions of blog posts are online.
Uncounted millions more post questions in forums, and millions of answers are posted in response.
All forms of online media are exploding in a similar fashion.
At least a hundred million websites are out there.
We are creating at a rate exponentially more than our most recent ancestors.
Those are the ones we call antiques today.
We are suitably impressed that Da Vinci sketched a design for a submarine and a flying machine.
Today, there are modern-day Da Vincis living in parts of the world where just surviving is a full-time occupation, powerless to develop the gifts they could offer the wider world.
Imagine a thousand new arts, none of which are even invented yet, each with a thousand new great masters.
Scholars today are pretty sure that in the case of Delphi, the oracle was inadvertently breathing gases that rose from the cave in which she sat.
Wise machines are dramatically more valuable than machines that just store and retrieve information.
Or: You are watching TV, flipping through the channels—and every channel you pause on, every channel you watch, every channel you come back to, are all perfectly logged.
We are building the Internet to connect with each other better, to share information, to collaborate, to offer mutual support, and so on.
I know the list of nefarious uses of the Internet—but on balance, we are building it for good purposes.
But as I watch how we are building and using the Internet, the one-on-one encounters impress me most.
The open source movement and Creative Commons licensing are examples of people willing to share their intellectual labor to help others.
Online, people are constantly thinking up new ways to share with others.
We are talking about a setting to your Digital Echo file that says, "Information that isn't tied to me personally can be contributed to pools of rolled-up data."
That device can track where you are at any time.
Statistics like this are generally not rigorously calculated.
These are not differences of values but disagreements in terms of knowledge.
These are all knowable things, and yet there is not universal agreement on them.
Why are there fewer traffic jams in one certain city than in any other of its size?
Why are dropout rates in some schools lower than demographically matched schools anywhere else in the world?
These are good suggestions!
They show complementary products to the one you are considering.
Over time, Amazon has achieved such scale and thus has collected so much data that their suggestions are really useful.
You are being helped by an excellent salesperson who has been working there for twenty-five years.
No human could ever do this, for in these purely computational matters, machines are vastly superior to us, and always will be.
And that is why, if we are to use the Internet and technology to end ignorance, we still need people like Jim Haynes.
They are people who heard of his gatherings, contacted him, and said, "I want to come to your dinner party."
Once Jim extends the invitation, he memorizes all the individuals' names, where they are from, what they do for a living, information about their families, and so forth.
These guidebooks are lists of people who live in that area who would be willing to meet you for coffee.
To use a simple example: You are in San Francisco.
You are not from there, and you want to go out for Italian food for dinner.
And so we are interested in the Italian restaurants people drive across town repeatedly to frequent.
What's more, the algorithms used to make that recommendation are self-learning and will improve their suggestions over time.
Where are people who are studying what you want to study going?
What are their average salaries?
What books are the professors reading?
How many people similar to you went to that college and are now on antidepressants?
But human beings are not machines.
As we move toward that future, it is a great tragedy that the experiences of all the people of the past are lost to us.
There are limits to this.
But these are the exceptions.
We know for certain that these feats, and hundreds more like them, are true.
Perhaps we all have such remarkable abilities but are impaired in a way—maybe the rest of us have a disease to which these savants are immune.
As we move out from that defined center, we come to disorders and disabilities—impairments of bodily systems that are brought about by injury, disease, or genetics.
Next would come all the various syndromes, which are sets of clinically recognizable symptoms that occur together without a known cause.
Now we are certainly on the fuzzy edges, a place where words, often fuzzy in their meanings, begin to fail us.
Now we are asking questions beyond my pay grade.
In addition, images engraved in walls of what appear to be people infected with polio are found in Egypt dating back to at least 1400 BC.
At present, there are about one hundred new cases reported per month around the world, infecting about the same number of people as die from lightning strikes.
As I was writing these words, my ten-year-old son came in and asked, "What are you doing?"
Well, the diseases that human beings focus on are the ones considered most unbearable.
We are most horrified by that which strikes closest to us and reminds us of our own mortality.
Third: It is always the case that diseases are eliminated first in the healthy, well-developed, rich countries, then gradually around the world.
If my reasoning elsewhere in this book is correct, we are moving toward a future where there will be nothing but healthy, well-developed, rich countries with modern infrastructure.
The factors that enable us to solve for and eliminate disease are getting better all the time, like wind at our back, pushing us forward.
Then we see that only people in certain parts of the country are getting better.
Or are their bones more brittle?
And of the redheads themselves, are there factors among the clumsy ones that are different than the coordinated ones?
Is it actually that blue-eyed redheads have the same number of accidents as non-redheads, but brown-eyed redheads are even more clumsy, accident prone, and traffic hazards?
All kinds of anomalies are in the world.
Why do people who win Academy Awards outlive people who are nominated but do not win?
Though cases like these are not really how the science will be used, they illustrate the principle.
Are these ingredients in other foods as well?
We will be able to examine all kinds of social issues: Why are some areas poorer than others?
Those differences are part of what makes us unique.
They are essentially instructions on how to make proteins, which are what build and regulate your body.
Every second, millions of cells die in your body and millions are born.
Understanding how the damage occurs, we are that much closer to finding a cure.
We hear of treatments that work some percent of the time or we hear phrases like, "They are not responding to treatment."
Diseases are frequently diagnosed with broad terms based on a set of symptoms.
And as we have seen, understanding how we are made is certainly a huge advantage in our battle with disease.
And if we know how they are made, we can destroy them.
However, new and improved cows are now able to make milk with more of these enzymes.
All books are being scanned.
Highly specialized experts are a few keystrokes away and can be hired for just a few minutes or hours at a time.
With Skype and similar products, you can even see the person you are working with.
When you trade with someone in a free market, you are giving up something you have for something the other person has, which you value more.
Both are better off than they were, even though nothing new has been created.
If you are in a desert dying of thirst, you value the first glass of water very highly, the second glass a bit less, and the 802nd not at all.
Puppies are like this too.
So when people have excess goods, they are able to trade those goods away for things they want and suffer less of a decrease in utility than the amount they are increasing in their trading partners.
Everyone wins in trade, because goods are reallocated in a way that increases utility to all parties involved.
Credit cards are able to work and charge low fees because almost all transactions are honest.
These stores are able to increase trade a number of ways.
These assumptions are often wrong.
The cost of interactive information exchange, such as asking questions about products you are contemplating purchasing, has fallen to nearly zero.
This makes business a meritocracy and encourages business owners to focus on quality, service, and reputation since these are so easy for customers to check.
The pay per click (PPC) business is a way to advertise online to people who did a specific search in a search engine like Google or who are viewing content on a certain topic.
For instance, I could hand carve bird calls and then advertise them only to people who are looking at online content about hand-carved bird calls or who search the Internet for information about hand-carved bird calls.
And yet, our lives are nothing like that.
Instead, we are surrounded by things we could not create ourselves.
And yet pencils get made, more than a billion of them a year, and they are essentially given away.
It requires the labor of thousands to make a pencil, and yet they are so inexpensive as to be almost free.
These new methods are considered advances if what they produce is worth more than the cost of their parts.
And the mechanisms that will bring that about are also the ones that will end poverty forever.
Humans require relatively little oxygen, and plants are constantly transforming the carbon dioxide we exhale back into useful oxygen.
There are a few reasons.
If you are able to consume more energy, you can do more work and therefore create more.
If you are a farmer and work alone, you can only plant as much land as you can personally plow. You can do just a couple of thousand calories of work a day, consuming only the energy produced by the food you ate.
Fossil fuels are, without a doubt, scarce.
All around the world, scientists are racing to create hot fusion reactors.
But these are questions of technology, not of scarcity, and technology is about to rocket forward.
We have a hard time seeing this world without scarcity because we are firmly planted in the worldview of scarcity.
And like our example with energy, technology and human innovation could make other things that are now scarce—or that we think of now as scarce—not so at all.
Most raw materials in the world are essentially unlimited.
First, many things in the physical world that we think of as scarce are not really scarce, just presently beyond our ability to capture.
Technological advances that displace human workers are similar in effect to two other concepts with which we are very familiar in the modern age: outsourcing and free trade.
We are sympathetic to the laid-off workers, but no one would suggest the cotton gin not be installed.
Then, make them all soak their fingers in ice water so they are numb and work even slower, creating another thirty jobs for cold-fingered, blindfolded cotton seed removers.
They are able to produce widgets for ten cents, putting the Dollar Widget Company (with its unfortunate name) out of business.
You are probably thinking, How can we ever know that?
Externalities are the external effects an action has on society.
Sometimes they are negative and sometimes they are positive.
You, personally, are pretty happy with the generic knockoff, which saves you a dollar and tastes the same to you.
So here is the situation: You are at the store deciding which ones to buy.
You are leaving town for a week and a day and will completely avoid your spouse's meltdown.
When businesses and people are made to consider the overall effects of their choices as opposed to only their individual effects, efficient outcomes occur.
To some extent, we have this in the form of high taxes on cigarettes, which are seen to have negative externalities, and a home interest deduction on income taxes, as home ownership is viewed as having positive social good.
If workers are in unsafe work environments, they are bearing a risk that has a measurable negative cost.
But realize, no new net efficiencies are gained from this move.
Why would your employer pay you more than the value you are able to add?
If you are a wage earner, then you should love machines.
Everyone has to believe there are rules and that they apply to everyone.
However, there are limits to how much prosperity and efficiency the division of labor can create.
We are about to enter a world where robots do more and more of our work for us.
And when I say robots, I don't mean androids, which are people-shaped machines doing the work of people.
As robotic technology advances, we are being forced to readjust our expectations of machines' capabilities.
From Data on Star Trek and C-3PO in Star Wars to Twiggy in Buck Rogers, robots are wise-cracking sidekicks and sage philosophers reflecting on "the human condition."
In this regard, they are little different than talking dogs in cartoons.
Machines are not persons and so cannot have personalities.
Artificial surrogates for human companionship are always vastly inferior to the real thing; we crave connections with people, not machines.
Recently, my ten-year-old son and I visited the factory in Denmark where Lego building blocks are made.
Because nanites are so small, they require little in the way of raw materials, just a few molecules here and there.
Choose whichever of those you are comfortable with, but let me illustrate with a single example.
The vaccine nanoparticles are painted with a protein that helps keep the white blood cells from attacking the pancreas without damaging the overall immune system.
Robots are free from the physical limits our human bodies have.
Oh, and they are smart nails.
Oh, and they change color if they detect structural weakness in the material to which they are affixed.
And they are so cheap as to nearly be free.
These fields are about to explode with innovation and advancement.
I think no matter what, energy costs will fall dramatically in the future, probably to near zero, because the economic incentives to unlock that technical puzzle are so overwhelming.
Again, the materials to build the car are abundant; their cost is high because of technology deficiencies around retrieving and refining them, not an underlying rarity.
When computers are in your clothes, medicine, eyeglasses, wallet, tires, walls, makeup, jewelry, cookware, tennis shoes, binoculars, and everything else you own, those things will do more than you can imagine—the stuff of science fiction.
Imagine when a five-cent computer in your shoe warns you that the way you are walking will lead to spine problems.
So whether you are rich or poor in the future, you will own this pan and get this benefit.
Houses will be built by robots using materials not yet invented that are cheaper and more energy efficient.
Housing is a huge industry that will reward innovative products.
Are you finding it hard to fathom by now how almost everything can get cheaper and better?
A poor person with a six-year-old car today has more wealth than a poor person with a six-year-old car did back in 1911, for the simple reason that cars are so much better now.
Given that inequalities in income are likely to grow, how I can I contend that we will see an end of poverty?
By the government's calculation, about 40 percent of India's population, or half a billion people, are below that level.
When the poor believe the rich are beneficiaries of different legal status than the poor.
When the rich are demographically different than the poor.
However, if they are getting wealthier over time, even if the rich are getting wealthier faster, the poor will tend to accept the system more.
Other methods of redistribution are even more direct.
When industries are taken without payment to the property owner, it has a certain legal term.
I beg to differ, but I am seldom consulted when such decisions are made.
Nationalization and expropriation are wealth-extraction methods that typically only work once.
Once a nation shows its willingness to seize foreign-owned property at will, foreign investors are reluctant to do business there again.
Such radical redistribution attempts are dangerous games, for the rich are creators of economic opportunity, not just for themselves, but as employers, for society.
Here I'll make a point which I believe to be a historic constant and to which we will be returning: If property rights of the rich are respected and tax rates, while high, still allow for indefinite gain, then the rich will keep producing.
If governments are created to protect the life, liberty, and property of their citizenry, what all does that entail?
When nations are young and when they are poor, they usually focus on two things: the military and civil order.
Once borders are secured, nations turn to social order.
You are right to quote Jefferson, but you chose the wrong quote.
Direct payments are made to an increasing number of citizens and the size of those payments rise.
Roughly speaking, if you look at the poorest forty nations in the world, who have an average income per person of about $1,500 a year, their effective tax rates are about 20 percent.
The tax rates when the "conservatives" are in power are very little different than when the "liberals" are in power.
We've seen this: If you are running for president of the United States, merely using the words "freeze" and "Social Security" in the same sentence has the retirees of the nation heating up pots of tar and emptying their down pillows.
But the big question is whether these same economics would apply in a world one hundred times richer than we are right now.
Tomorrow, you get a thirtyfold raise and are now making a million dollars a year.
Are those interest payments to the child "welfare?"
So let's say your parents bought Coca Cola stock their entire life, left it all to you, and you are able to live off the dividend payments of the stock.
The payments are substantial, about $1,000 per person.
I think that incomes will rise dramatically to many times what they presently are, in real dollars.
When all the factories run themselves, when energy is free, when scarcity is ended, when material needs are all met, it will be a different world.
The implication is always that some people are simply unable to do any job that a machine cannot do.
We see with our eyes many people doing mind-numbingly boring jobs and assume that is all they are capable of doing.
People are highly versatile, great at learning new things, naturally curious, and naturally enjoy new things.
It may seem intuitive at first glance, this idea that somehow there are only so many jobs and if you replace people with machines, people have fewer jobs.
The Internet replaced travel agents; are they all unemployed?
This idea that there are a finite number of jobs misses the point entirely of what makes a job.
Jobs are created when someone starts a business that takes a thing, adds labor and technology to it, and makes a new thing.
Today we are on the cusp of a substantially more profound shift in work life.
When those are the paths people choose between in the future—a Star Trek path or a WALL·E path—some will choose one and some will choose the other.
In a few years, the money is gone and they are worse off than before.
But over time, these dehumanizing jobs are what will be "left behind," not the people who perform them.
They have something they love and want to do, but if market forces are not such that they can support themselves doing that, they have to do something else.
Now all of a sudden your children are raised in what seems to everyone to be the lap of luxury.
In my experience, people who challenge themselves and strive for goals are happier and healthier than those who don't.
Citizens in these countries are grateful for any job that pays anything at all, and their primary concern is simply survival.
And we got them all, more or less, by trade and the wealth generated by our work doing some function for which we are trained.
They are not distinct buckets but rather broad characterizations: actual famine, weaponized famine, and structural famine.
It is fascinating reading to this day because the things he notes about the American character are still very much with us.
No government is involved in these organizations, which are instead driven by a combination of religious and civic motives.
That notwithstanding, de Tocqueville's "voluntary associations" are still alive and well in the United States.
In any case, as the song says, The times, they are a-changin'—and they are changing in a manner that governments probably can't keep up with.
Why are people so quick to vilify those on the "other side" of the issue—and why do we even think in terms of sides?
As we consider how the Internet and related technologies can end hunger, it is necessary to address the issues of food and nutrition—including why they are so divisive.
It is almost impossible to execute a pure controlled study of anything relating to nutrition because there are simply too many variables to consider.
Add to that how food itself is changing, our food choices change, our lifestyles change, and all along the way we are aging.
First, it is only useful for factors that are immediately bad for you, not factors that will kill you in ten years.
And second, people are really bad at connecting cause and effect in their lives when it comes to things like this.
Whether you are for the organic food movement or against it, for genetically modified crops or against them, for corporate farms or seed banks or raw food or anything else, is influenced significantly by your larger view of politics.
For instance, if you think large corporation are greedy and evil, then when you read about how large corporations produce low-nutrition food or are putting family farms out of business, you will believe it.
If you love "Western medicine" and think all acupuncturists are "quacks," then you are not likely to heed (or even appreciate) your friend's well-meaning efforts to get you to drink your own urine for its health benefits.
The subtle interplay of everything involved in nutrition is vastly more complex than our minds are able to handle.
Some methods and technologies that show promise to end famine are controversial.
But in the future when we have more and better information, if it turns out that some of these methods are not net gains, we will know that and look elsewhere for solutions.
More than half the hungry people in the world live in just these three nations—nations that are all net food exporters.
Nations with high percentages of hungry citizens are not universally food exporters, and we will explore this more later.
Crop yields are highly volatile and unpredictably so.
In the lean years, harvests are small and farmers sometimes don't even produce enough to have surplus to sell.
In the fat years, agricultural prices are pushed downward by the abundance, often below the cost of harvesting and transporting the crops.
All of these are sorely lacking in areas where hunger is most prevalent.
If, on the other hand, they want self-sufficiency in agriculture, then farm subsidies in other countries are bad for them.
Food security is a real issue, and nations that do not at least produce some kinds of food are at risk.
Those are only some of the most significant factors contributing to hunger in the world today.
Indigenous animals are not well-suited to be domesticated and assist in farming.
Crops native to Africa are not the staples of the world.
I think we are still at the donkey stage—and this is good news!
First are the inefficiencies in the natural processes of agriculture.
Second are the inefficiencies in the human processes—that is, the techniques by which we practice agriculture.
Plants themselves are pretty inefficient machines, at least from the standpoint of being good food sources for us.
How good a job are the plants doing?
Operating at basically 5 percent efficiency, they are less than half as efficient as solar panels now on the market.
And solar cells presently being developed in laboratories are doing several times better than the plants.
And then, the seeds we are using aren't anything to write home about, either.
Food issues are complex and deeply emotional.
They are alike in name only, in that they are both factories—but they are completely different.
When I use a term like factory farm, I am envisioning not what these things are now but what they will be.
Because the most efficient farms in the world are those that operate at vast scale.
The system will see that just the right amounts of black-eyed peas, potatoes, and corn are grown.
And then how much longer until they are completely automatic?
There were more people farming in the United States in 1820 than there are today.
Mechanization and automation—both of which are about to get a lot better.
My fingertips are still stained a bit blue.
If you are not familiar with this whole issue, look into it; it is fascinating and, I think, important.
But I do not believe these technological leaps forward are a threat to good food.
Both of these are hugely important parts of life, and I know of no one who would trade them away for a pill they swallow in the morning that gives them all their nutrition for the day.
Do you really know what is in a hotdog, or are you sure you want to?
Similarly, seed makers are judged by the crops the seeds grow into—specifically, the yield and how long it takes to get it.
Bonus points are given for resiliency, low water requirements, and appearance.
The point is this: GMO crops are everywhere.
All manner of breeds of dogs, cats, cows, and horses are bred in similar ways.
Plants are as well.
Today, genetic modification efforts are much more directed.
We know exactly what we are shooting for.
Now we are at the third order: splicing genes within a species.
In Africa, most genetically engineered crops that could grow well there are not welcome.
The corn genome data is free for anyone to download at maizesequence.org, in case you are bored some Sunday afternoon and want to see how to make corn.
In any case, there are other ways to use genetic modification to get energy.
Or are packed with vitamins.
By taking this "Absolutely no GMOs" stance they completely remove themselves from the debate and as such have no voice in the discussion about what direction to take GM: what are safe testing practices, what factors will we optimize for, and the whole host of questions that face us on this, the eve of a momentous leap forward.
But they are very remote.
Weigh that against the certainty that nearly a billion people are hungry right now and I don't know why we would decline to acquire this knowledge.
How about flowers that bloom in different colors when they are on top of land mines?
Why don't we make seeds better than they are now?
The issues are difficult because fundamentally none of us knows the ultimate effects.
So I am not saying objections and caution are not warranted.
Our eyes are capable of seeing only a narrow spectrum of light.
We are really good on the reasoning part, but as far as our sensory inputs go, we are massively outclassed by cheap sensors.
These are the kinds of solutions that will change the world.
The access to information that mobile phones are bringing virtually everywhere on the planet is helping people raise their standard of living and will do so even more dramatically in the years to come.
You can install Boinc software on your computer, choose a project you want your computer to work on when you are away from it, and maybe do your bit to change the world.
If politicians are demonstrably good at one thing, it is getting elected, and people who are starving don't normally re-elect their representatives.
Dictatorships are toppling, and the Internet is helping that along.
Once the amount the fish seller requested is reached, the loan is funded and funds are transferred to her.
There are those who would elevate the right to food as being a fundamental human right.
The word "unalienable" (or "inalienable"—they are interchangeable) means, "unable to be taken away from or given away by the possessor."
I am not saying governments are supposed to feed the world or that food should be free.
Everywhere you go in the United States are water fountains.
In using the phrase, "Necessitous men are not free men," Roosevelt was actually quoting from a decision in a well-known 1762 English legal case.
The full quote runs: "Necessitous men are not, truly speaking, free men, but, to answer a present exigency, will submit to any terms that the crafty may impose upon them."
While Jefferson's "all men are created equal" statement was not meant by him to include slaves, we have broadened the application of the principle and should continue to do so.
People who buy organic food, for instance, are not doing it simply because they have more money.
As the world grows richer, people will care more about how their food is made, how the animals are treated, whether the laborer who picked the food is paid a living wage.
But I also believe that hunger will end when we decide to end it, not only at the point when we are able to end it.
Jordanes, a Goth, wrote the following about the Huns in 551: They are beings who are cruel to their children on the very day they are born.
They are not tales of aberrant individuals but of societal norms.
In most parts of the world, women are no longer legally regarded as chattel.
We are replacing monarchy with self-rule.
Trials are expected to be open and public.
Rules of evidence are widely known and honored.
A formal appeals process and trial by jury are commonplace.
Democracies are thereby prone to the majority abusing the rights of the minority.
Courts of law are now the norm in the world, with laws being democratically established and widely published.
Still, I would argue these changes are the results of an overall increase in empathy and that, more often than not, increasing empathy promotes civilization and is splendid.
It is not surprising that we are taking awhile to get it right.
I do believe some ideals are worth fighting for and, by logical extension, worth killing for—but not many.
Of course, the people making that judgment call and the people doing the actual dying usually are not one and the same, and therein lies the problem.
Early in his presidency, in a 1953 address that would become known as his "Cross of Iron" speech, he declared, "Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.
Well, there are a lot of reasons we don't get along.
In our individual countries, sets of laws are created by the citizenry and are designed to protect life, liberty, and property.
So, when I tell you we will see the end of war, if you are over thirty-five years of age, you have every reason to roll your eyes and tell me you have seen this movie before and aren't up for the sequel.
You could have the libertarian state, the green state, the clothing-optional state, the state with free public housing for all, the state where puns are outlawed, the state with a two-drink minimum, the fiercely pro-business state—even a state that guarantees free speech but requires that you sing your speech like a show tune.
As American diplomat Ralph Johnson Bunche aptly observed, "There are no warlike people, just warlike leaders."
Parents whose children are in the military generally aren't the ones hawkishly pushing for war.
They are elected or appointed to protect the rights of the citizens, yet they become the agents of their death.
Corporations are run by "officers," comprised of multiple "divisions," and set revenue "targets."
Technically speaking, I have included a few that are not dependent on the Internet per se, but in which the Internet and technology plays some role.
Now the "war stories" are about how Mark Zuckerberg was nineteen when he started Facebook, Bill Gates was nineteen when he started Microsoft, and Larry Page and Sergey Brin were in their early twenties when they started Google.
Young boys compete with other boys in sports and races and tug-of-wars and, well, in everything, because that is simply how they are wired.
If you have no food and are starving, you might invade your neighbor and take his food.
It is this combined with the fact that their targets, too, are worth more; the cost of rebuilding a modern city today dwarfs the cost of rebuilding that city fifty years ago.
We are used to non-rationed goods, unlimited food in grocery stores, and the overall widespread availability of inexpensive quality products.
Because we value them, we are reluctant to give them up without a really good reason.
This is not to say that businesses are so materialistic they will favor a war to get a government contract.
I assume that virtually everyone working in defense industries believes they are serving their country and protecting freedom.
But let's adopt the cynic's view for a moment and assume people in these corporations are chiefly concerned about their financial benefit, not about human suffering, when it comes to war.
Imagine you are a defense contractor on top of the world.
Finally, you are making money hand over fist manufacturing the C2000.
Are you for it?
You are already on top of the world, remember?
Plus, if there is war, there are more competitors.
It is yet another major disincentive to war—and we are only six items into our list!
Supply chains are spread across the world.
If you are a masseuse, your massage oils might come from Indonesia.
Arrangements like this are commonplace, although largely hidden from view.
Large movements in any large foreign market are newsworthy.
All this together means that our economic fates are more intertwined than ever.
Monarchies with any real, significant power are just waiting out the clock.
For many of the same reasons as monarchies, dictatorships are inherently warlike.
Dictators, in short, are the scourge of the earth.
Not only are we eliminating historically warlike forms of government, we are replacing them with peaceful ones, namely democracy.
We could go on here and talk about other military powers and alliances, but the simple fact is that large countries are less willing to risk war in defense of small ones.
There are no mountains between the Atlantic Ocean and the St. Lawrence river.
Slowly but steadily, as part of the growth of civilization, countries are signing treaties and reaching agreements that spell out in detail the common set of rules those nations will abide by.
These and literally thousands more issues are worked out in treaties and agreements between nations.
These treaties are good.
All these are profound shifts in public opinion.
Well, here we are, not quite halfway through our list of ways the Internet, technology, and civilization will come together to end war.
In the absence of efficient communication, potential belligerents are left to impute the worst possible motives to the unexplained actions of others.
I have no doubt there are all kinds of things in the Twitterverse that I want to know about, but I only find the ones that I first knew to look for.
While the few may be for war, the many are almost always for peace.
Our "strong ties"—family, close friends and the like—we can always count on, but they are relatively few.
Thus, governments are very sensitive to criticism and to challenges to their authority.
Other nations are becoming more transparent as well.
But a sizable number are attempting this, and the direction the world is heading is obvious.
When they can't, they are deposed.
Around the world, more than a billion mobile devices that both take and send photographs are currently in use, spread even to the poorest parts of the globe.
All of this means examples of atrocities by the government or by the mob are increasingly likely to be documented and publicized.
Two interesting government programs are under way in the United States, according to a June 2011 article in The New York Times.
The article also describes a second project where a group of young entrepreneurs who look as if they could be in a garage band are fitting deceptively innocent-looking hardware into a prototype 'Internet in a suitcase.'
More people are learning English in China than there are people who speak it in the United States.
Today, there are more than one hundred million.
So whatever trends we have observed so far are only getting started.
We are more than three-quarters of the way through our forty-three steps toward world peace.
On the other end of the education spectrum, college degrees are up: A recent Harvard University study reports that 6.7 percent of the world has a college degree, up from 5.9 percent in 2000.
Young people, who would be expected to do the dying if another war came, are generally more determined to keep the peace than their elders.
According to Pew Research Center data reported in USA Today in 2011, Marriages between spouses of different races and ethnicities are more common than ever before ...
American universities are thought by many to be among the best in the world.
How many do you think there are now—ten, twenty, fifty million?
I have never met someone who returned from another country saying, Man, those guys are such jerks.
French wines and luxury brands are appreciated by connoisseurs (another French concept) everywhere.
Italian exotic cars are the daydreams of much of the world.
Now, instead of just intellectually engaging with the news, we feel the government brutality, we experience the war, we are electrified by the demonstrations, and we are horrified at the suffering.
These are forces for peace.
The nationalists are the ones who say, "My country, right or wrong."
As civilization advances, we are becoming better people, and unquestionably more empathic.
There are pros and cons to this, to be sure, but overall, this has increased our empathy.
Nearly four hundred years after his death, Shakespeare's works are read and studied around the globe.
All these things are the same today as they were in Shakespeare's time, and because of that, his stories are still very relevant to us.
Two millennia later, it is fair to assume that humans are still capable of this kind of memory.
When Augustine finally asked, "What are you doing?," Ambrose replied that he was reading.
In this way, you are processing aurally, which is much slower but more focused than silent reading.
He taught me everything I know about old cars and why they are cool.
At that point, the iffy parts of human history are behind us and it is blue skies and clean sailing ahead.
So let's review my key points to see if they are compelling.
We are entering a point where technology will change at extreme speeds.
Because the advances are highly distributed, they are thus highly likely.
The economy makes new machines that replace manual labor because many thousands of people are paid very well to do so.
Once they become more educated, they are better able to participate in the modern economy.
More minds are thinking about more problems, coming up with better solutions.
We are heading toward that, which makes progress ever more certain.
We are a tiny dot of life suspended in a nearly infinite universe.
Certainly this could happen, although the odds are remote.
Love it or hate it, this seems to be where we are going.
All big industries are replaced by better ones.
Most of the problems are related to clean water, the environment, pollution, energy, weather, and transportation.
Are we moving in the direction of the solution now?
If the answers to those questions are affirmative, then making assumptions about increasing rates of technological progress is very reasonable.
It is pessimism that says, "We are doomed."
Today, all of our eggs are in a lone planetary basket, Earth.
I look for the day when a billion planets are populated with a billion people each.
We are gaining speed, not winding down.
At the time in history when our future has never looked brighter, it is baffling that some people are more pessimistic than ever.
They are always asking: What does this beauty or that music mean to you?
At Radcliffe no one reads the papers to me after they are written, and I have no opportunity to correct errors unless I finish before the time is up.
If I passed with higher credit in the preliminaries than in the finals, there are two reasons.
It is true that I was familiar with all literary braille in common use in this country--English, American, and New York Point; but the various signs and symbols in geometry and algebra in the three systems are very different, and I had used only the English braille in my algebra.
The lectures are spelled into my hand as rapidly as possible, and much of the individuality of the lecturer is lost to me in the effort to keep in the race.
I cannot make notes during the lectures, because my hands are busy listening.
They are there, it is true; but they seem mummified.
But the examinations are the chief bugbears of my college life.
You are sure it is somewhere in your mind near the top--you saw it there the other day when you were looking up the beginnings of the Reformation.
You are amazed at all the things you know which are not on the examination paper.
Ah, here they are--the mixed metaphors mocking and strutting about before me, pointing to the bull in the china shop assailed by hailstones and the bugbears with pale looks, an unanalyzed species!
I do not know why it is, but stories in which animals are made to talk and act like human beings have never appealed to me very strongly.
The highest chords he strikes are those of reason and self-love.
I feel a genuine interest in the animals themselves, because they are real animals and not caricatures of men.
My physical limitations are forgotten--my world lies upward, the length and the breadth and the sweep of the heavens are mine!
The Bible gives me a deep, comforting sense that "things seen are temporal, and things unseen are eternal."
All things transitory But as symbols are sent.
I trust that my readers have not concluded from the preceding chapter on books that reading is my only pleasure; my pleasures and amusements are many and varied.
The prattle of the little ones and their pleasure in the stories I told them of elf and gnome, of hero and wily bear, are pleasant things to remember.
The sun and the air are God's free gifts to all we say, but are they so?
The squares are cut out, so that the men stand in them firmly.
The black checkers are flat and the white ones curved on top.
The chessmen are of two sizes, the white larger than the black, so that I have no trouble in following my opponent's maneuvers by moving my hands lightly over the board after a play.
If there are children around, nothing pleases me so much as to frolic with them.
They lead me about and show me the things they are interested in.
Museums and art stores are also sources of pleasure and inspiration.
My soul delights in the repose and gracious curves of the Venus; and in Barre's bronzes the secrets of the jungle are revealed to me.
Those are red-letter days in our lives when we meet people who thrill us like a fine poem, people whose handshake is brimful of unspoken sympathy, and whose sweet, rich natures impart to our eager, impatient spirits a wonderful restfulness which, in its essence, is divine.
In a word, while such friends are near us we feel that all is well.
I suppose the calls of the stupid and curious, especially of newspaper reporters, are always inopportune.
They are like people who when walking with you try to shorten their steps to suit yours; the hypocrisy in both cases is equally exasperating.
The hands of those I meet are dumbly eloquent to me.
Others there are whose hands have sunbeams in them, so that their grasp warms my heart.
Love your Heavenly Father with your whole heart and soul, love every child of God as much as ever you can, and remember that the possibilities of good are greater than the possibilities of evil; and you have the key to Heaven.
Mr. Hutton introduced me to many of his literary friends, greatest of whom are Mr. William Dean Howells and Mark Twain.
Helen Keller's letters are important, not only as a supplementary story of her life, but as a demonstration of her growth in thought and expression--the growth which in itself has made her distinguished.
The best passages are those in which she talks about herself, and gives her world in terms of her experience of it.
Those are passages of which one would ask for more.
They are the exercises which have trained her to write.
So these selections from Miss Keller's correspondence are made with two purposes--to show her development and to preserve the most entertaining and significant passages from several hundred letters.
Two words are almost illegible, and the angular print slants in every direction.
By the beginning of the next year her idioms are firmer.
There are poplar and cedar and pine and oak and ash and hickory and maple trees.
Geraniums and roses jasamines and japonicas are cultivated flowers.
My dear Miss Moore Are you very glad to receive a nice letter from your darling little friend?
I love you very dearly because you are my friend.
Her eyes are very big and blue, and her cheeks are soft and round and rosy and her hair is very bright and golden.
The little girls are coming back to school next Wednesday.
I am very sorry that Eva and Bessie are sick.
There are twenty seven little children here and they are all blind.
Are you very sad for Edith and me?
My rabbits are sleeping, too; and very soon I shall go to bed.
Are you very lonely and sad now?
Astronomer comes from the Latin word astra, which means stars; and astronomers are men who study the stars, and tell us about them.
When we are sleeping quietly in our beds, they are watching the beautiful sky through the telescope.
The stars are so far away that people cannot tell much about them, without very excellent instruments.
The stars are called the earth's brothers and sisters.
There are a great many instruments besides those which the astronomers use.
Some bells are musical and others are unmusical.
Some are very tiny and some are very large.
Bells are used for many purposes.
The engine-bell tells the passengers that they are coming to a station, and it tells the people to keep out of the way.
Sometimes very terrible accidents happen, and many people are burned and drowned and injured.
My little pigeons are well, and so is my little bird.
My teacher says, if children learn to be patient and gentle while they are little, that when they grow to be young ladies and gentlemen they will not forget to be kind and loving and brave.
The sun is shining brightly to-day and I hope we shall go to ride if the roads are dry.
I am very sorry that you are going so far away.
Father and Uncle Frank are down town.
The La France and the Lamarque are the most fragrant; but the Marechal Neil, Solfaterre, Jacqueminot, Nipheots, Etoile de Lyon, Papa Gontier, Gabrielle Drevet and the Perle des Jardines are all lovely roses.
The strawberries are nearly all gone.
My little children are all well except Nancy, and she is quite feeble.
My grandmother and aunt Corinne are here.
All the beautiful flowers are in bloom now.
I am so glad that Lester and Henry are good little infants.
His wings are as long as my arm, and his bill is as long as my foot.
When I walk out in my garden I cannot see the beautiful flowers but I know that they are all around me; for is not the air sweet with their fragrance?
I know too that the tiny lily-bells are whispering pretty secrets to their companions else they would not look so happy.
Her little girls are named Violet and May.
Teacher and I are the only babies left for Mrs. Hopkins to care for.
The little girls are well too.
They are going to give me a lovely present, but I cannot guess what it will be.
Are you very glad that you could make so many happy?
I am sorry that you have no little children to play with you sometimes; but I think you are very happy with your books, and your many, many friends.
They do not make honey for us, like the bees, but many of them are as beautiful as the flowers they light upon, and they always delight the hearts of little children.
Are you very, very happy because you can make so many people happy?
I think you are very kind and patient, and I love you very dearly.
But now I want to tell you how glad I am that you are so happy and enjoying your home so very much.
I am glad also to know, from the questions which you ask me, what you are thinking about.
We like to think that the sunshine and the winds and the trees are able to love in some way of their own, for it would make us know that they were happy if we knew that they could love.
And the more we love the more near we are to God and His Love.
So are your Father and your Mother and your Teacher and all your friends.
And we are always most glad of what we not merely see our friends enjoy, but of what we give them to enjoy.
He knows that we can be really happy only when we are good.
All this is what you are to think of and to understand more and more as you grow older.
I rejoice to know that you are well and happy.
You are spared the pain of many sights and sounds, which you are only too happy in escaping.
Then think how much kindness you are sure of as long as you live.
The case was broken and the keys are nearly all out.
There are many new books in the library.
This evening they are going to entertain their friends with readings from your poems and music.
It makes me think that all people are good and loving.
I have read that the English and Americans are cousins; but I am sure it would be much truer to say that we are brothers and sisters.
And now I want to tell you what the dog lovers in America are going to do.
They are going to send me some money for a poor little deaf and dumb and blind child.
His parents are too poor to pay to have the little fellow sent to school; so, instead of giving me a dog, the gentlemen are going to help make Tommy's life as bright and joyous as mine.
It seems to me that all people who have loving, pitying hearts, are not strangers to each other.
I wonder if the May-days in England are as beautiful as they are here.
It is very beautiful to think that you can tell so many people of the heavenly Father's tender love for all His children even when they are not gentle and noble as He wishes them to be.
He has found out that doors have locks, and that little sticks and bits of paper can be got into the key-hole quite easily; but he does not seem very eager to get them out after they are in.
Words are the mind's wings, are they not?
Did you know that the blind children are going to have their commencement exercises in Tremont Temple, next Tuesday afternoon?
It is Sunday morning, and while I sit here in the library writing this letter you are teaching hundreds of people some of the grand and beautiful things about their heavenly Father.
The small letters are all made in the grooves, while the long ones extend above and below them.
Then we are very, very happy.
Need I tell you that I was more than delighted to hear that you are really interested in the "tea"?
I shall be so disappointed if my little plans fail, because I have wanted for a long time to do something for the poor little ones who are waiting to enter the kindergarten.
The preparations for my tea are nearly completed, and I am looking forward joyfully to the event.
Then I was like the little blind children who are waiting to enter the kindergarten.
My dear Carrie--You are to look upon it as a most positive proof of my love that I write to you to-day.
Nevertheless, I must tell you that we are alive,--that we reached home safely, and that we speak of you daily, and enjoy your interesting letters very much.
I have a very pretty little cart now, and if it ever stops raining teacher and I are going to drive every evening.
The reports which you have read in the paper about me are not true at all.
It is because my books are full of the riches of which Mr. Ruskin speaks that I love them so dearly.
Teacher and I are always delighted to hear from you.
Especially important are such details as her feeling the rush of the water by putting her hand on the window.
It is thrown across the gorge at a height of two hundred and fifty-eight feet above the water and is supported on each bank by towers of solid rock, which are eight hundred feet apart.
I never realized what a wonderful people the Japanese are until I saw their most interesting exhibit.
Japan must indeed be a paradise for children to judge from the great number of playthings which are manufactured there.
The Japanese books are very odd.
There are forty-seven letters in their alphabets.
But in the meantime the club has rented a little room in a central part of the town, and the books which we already have are free to all. 3.
We are all discoverers in one sense, being born quite ignorant of all things; but I hardly think that is what she meant.
But they are so good natured and friendly, one cannot help liking them.
Here we are once more in the great metropolis!
I am sure you would like to know Mr. and Mrs. Hutton, they are so kind and interesting.
Surely we shall all find at last the ideals we are seeking....
We think of you so, so often! and our hearts go out to you in tenderest sympathy; and you know better than this poor letter can tell you how happy we always are to have you with us!
There are about a hundred girls, and they are all so bright and happy; it is a joy to be with them.
You must tell Mr. Howells when you see him, that we are living in his house....
July 9, 1897. ...Teacher and I are going to spend the summer at Wrentham, Mass. with our friends, the Chamberlins.
They are dear, kind people....
Some one balances the toboggan on the very crest of the hill, while we get on, and when we are ready, off we dash down the side of the hill in a headlong rush, and, leaping a projection, plunge into a snow-drift and go swimming far across the pond at a tremendous rate!...
But alas! they are not, and I shall have to content myself with a stroll in the Gardens.
Indeed, I doubt if they are on speaking terms with their country cousins!
They are like the people whom they see every day, who prefer the crowded, noisy city to the quiet and freedom of the country.
How quickly I should lock up all these mighty warriors, and hoary sages, and impossible heroes, who are now almost my only companions; and dance and sing and frolic like other girls!
But I must not waste my time wishing idle wishes; and after all my ancient friends are very wise and interesting, and I usually enjoy their society very much indeed.
Of course you have read about the "Gordon Memorial College," which the English people are to erect at Khartoum.
You will be glad to hear that the books from England are coming now.
Why, only a little while ago people thought it quite impossible to teach the deaf-blind anything; but no sooner was it proved possible than hundreds of kind, sympathetic hearts were fired with the desire to help them, and now we see how many of those poor, unfortunate persons are being taught to see the beauty and reality of life.
My teacher's eyes are no better: indeed, I think they grow more troublesome, though she is very brave and patient, and will not give up.
I have just had some pictures taken, and if they are good, I would like to send one to Mr. Rogers, if you think he would like to have it.
We are all so glad and thankful that Mr. Kipling did not die!
You will be glad to hear that my mother, and little sister and brother are coming north to spend this summer with me.
Now her eyes are troubling her a great deal, and we all think she ought to be relieved, for a while, of every care and responsibility.
Cicero is splendid, but his orations are very difficult to translate.
The facts about the braille examinations are as follows:
TO MISS MILDRED KELLER 138 Brattle Street, Cambridge, November 26, 1899. ...At last we are settled for the winter, and our work is going smoothly.
You are studying English history, aren't you.
We are enjoying every moment of our visit, every one is so good to us.
TO MR. JOHN HITZ 138 Brattle Street, Cambridge, Feb. 3, 1900. ...My studies are more interesting than ever.
Among them are "Henry Esmond," "Bacon's Essays" and extracts from "English Literature."
However Mr. Bell suggested that--and all her friends who are interested in her scheme should organize an association for the promotion of the education of the deaf and blind, Teacher and myself being included of course.
Radcliffe girls are always up to their ears in work.
The courses at Radcliffe are elective, only certain courses in English are prescribed.
Her parents are very anxious indeed to find a teacher for her.
A gentleman in Philadelphia has just written to my teacher about a deaf and blind child in Paris, whose parents are Poles.
Surely there are hearts and hands ever ready to make it possible for generous intentions to be wrought into noble deeds.
Words are powerless to describe the desolation of that prison-house, or the joy of the soul that is delivered out of its captivity.
Thanks to our friend and helper, our world lies upward; the length and breadth and sweep of the heavens are ours!
Whatever doubts Miss Keller herself may have had are now at rest.
She is less able to recall events of fifteen years ago than most of us are to recollect our childhood.
Mark Twain has said that the two most interesting characters of the nineteenth century are Napoleon and Helen Keller.
If others are aglow with music, a responding glow, caught sympathetically, shines in her face.
When she returns from a walk and tells some one about it, her descriptions are accurate and vivid.
When she felt a bas-relief of dancing girls she asked, "Where are the singers?"
Most blind people are aided by the sense of sound, so that a fair comparison is hard to make, except with other deaf-blind persons.
These letters are of simple, square, angular design.
The small letters are about three-sixteenths of an inch high, and are raised from the page the thickness of the thumbnail.
The books are large, about the size of a volume of an encyclopedia.
The books are not heavy, because the leaves with the raised type do not lie close.
Books for the blind are very limited in number.
They cost a great deal to publish and they have not a large enough sale to make them profitable to the publisher; but there are several institutions with special funds to pay for embossed books.
They are, I think, the only ones of their kind in America.
The point of this gold indicator bends over the edge of the case, round which are set eleven raised points--the stem forms the twelfth.
The finer traits of Miss Keller's character are so well known that one needs not say much about them.
Often, however, her sober ideas are not to be laughed at, for her earnestness carries her listeners with her.
She means everything so thoroughly that her very quotations, her echoes from what she has read, are in truth original.
Her logic and her sympathy are in excellent balance.
There are two other reasons why Miss Sullivan's records are incomplete.
Miss Sullivan's talents are of the highest order.
She has none of those nervous habits that are so noticeable and so distressing in blind children.
Her hands are in everything; but nothing holds her attention for long.
These blots are her handiwork.
My eyes are very much inflamed.
Helen's table manners are appalling.
She puts her hands in our plates and helps herself, and when the dishes are passed, she grabs them and takes out whatever she wants.
Our meals are brought from the house, and we usually eat on the piazza.
The light of understanding has shone upon my little pupil's mind, and behold, all things are changed!
Sewing and crocheting are inventions of the devil, I think.
Helen's instincts are decidedly social; she likes to have people about her and to visit her friends, partly, I think, because they always have things she likes to eat.
HERE ARE SOME OF THEM: DOOR, OPEN, SHUT, GIVE, GO, COME, and a great many more.
Helen noticed that the puppies' eyes were closed, and she said, "Eyes--shut. Sleep--no," meaning, "The eyes are shut, but the puppies are not asleep."
We are all troubled about Helen.
The doctor says her mind is too active; but how are we to keep her from thinking?
But "genius" and "originality" are words we should not use lightly.
Already people are taking a deep interest in Helen.
She is much interested in some little chickens that are pecking their way into the world this morning.
Where are many shells?
We are bothered a good deal by people who assume the responsibility of the world when God is neglectful.
It's queer how ready people always are with advice in any real or imaginary emergency, and no matter how many times experience has shown them to be wrong, they continue to set forth their opinions, as if they had received them from the Almighty!
Of course she asks many questions that are not as intelligent as these.
The mother bird lays her eggs in a nest and keeps them warm until the birdlings are hatched.
These experiences are like photographic negatives, until language develops them and brings out the memory-images.
There are several near Tuscumbia; one very large one from which the town got its name.
I told her that when we are happy our thoughts are bright, and when we are naughty they are sad.
Yesterday's perplexities are strangely simple to-day, and to-day's difficulties become to-morrow's pastime.
Only those who are with her daily can realize the rapid advancement which she is making in the acquisition of language.
After thinking a moment she said, "My eyes are bad!" then she changed it into "My eyes are sick!"
"Helen is in wardrobe," "Mildred is in crib," "Box is on table," "Papa is on bed," are specimens of sentences constructed by her during the latter part of April.
Several little girls have learned to spell on their fingers and are very proud of the accomplishment.
I said to her, "You are a naughty girl."
When I told her that Mildred's eyes were blue, she asked, "Are they like wee skies?"
I can't believe that the colour-impressions she received during the year and a half she could see and hear are entirely lost.
The stores in Memphis are very good, and I managed to spend all the money that I had with me.
Teacher will say, We are silly.
We are just back from church.
Her motions are often more expressive than any words, and she is as graceful as a nymph.
We are very sorry.
Her recollections of the sensations of smell are very vivid.
Helen felt the change in her mother's movements instantly, and asked, "What are we afraid of?"
On her return to the house after her visit to the cemetery, she ran to the closet where these toys were kept, and carried them to my friend, saying, "They are poor little Florence's."
She bends over her book with a look of intense interest, and as the forefinger of her left hand runs along the line, she spells out the words with the other hand; but often her motions are so rapid as to be unintelligible even to those accustomed to reading the swift and varied movements of her fingers.
She is not conscious of any reason why she should be awkward; consequently, her movements are free and graceful.
They like juicy fruit to eat as well as people, and they are hungry.
They are not very wrong to eat too many grapes because they do not know much.
Sitting beside her in the car, I describe what I see from the window--hills and valleys and the rivers; cotton-fields and gardens in which strawberries, peaches, pears, melons, and vegetables are growing; herds of cows and horses feeding in broad meadows, and flocks of sheep on the hillside; the cities with their churches and schools, hotels and warehouses, and the occupations of the busy people.
The quail lays fifteen or twenty eggs and they are white.
The robin's eggs are green.
March, April, May are spring.
After a moment she added, mournfully, "I fear some people's lives are just like Ginger's."
She will guess the meanings of the new words from their connection with others which are already intelligible to her.
The next lines are still more idiomatic, "When Suetonius left the country, they fell upon his troops and retook the island of Anglesea."
Children ask profound questions, but they often receive shallow answers, or, to speak more correctly, they are quieted by such answers.
"She sends the sunshine and rain to make them grow," Helen replied; and after a moment she added, "I think the sunshine is Nature's warm smile, and the raindrops are her tears."
Here are some of them: "What did God make the new worlds out of?"
It is often necessary to remind her that there are infinitely many things that the wisest people in the world cannot explain.
Too often, I think, children are required to write before they have anything to say.
It may be true, as some maintain, that language cannot express to us much beyond what we have lived and experienced; but I have always observed that children manifest the greatest delight in the lofty, poetic language which we are too ready to think beyond their comprehension.
Indeed, only such explanations should be given as are really essential.
Helen has had the best and purest models in language constantly presented to her, and her conversation and her writing are unconscious reproductions of what she has read.
It is true, the more sensitive and imaginative the mind is that receives the thought-pictures and images of literature, the more nicely the finest lines are reproduced.
Books are the storehouse of language, and any child, whether deaf or not, if he has his attention attracted in any way to printed pages, must learn.
And the fact remains that she was taught by a method of teaching language to the deaf the essential principles of which are clearly expressed in Miss Sullivan's letters, written while she was discovering the method and putting it successfully into practice.
Some of her notes are musical and charming.
Miss Keller's vowels are not firm.
Hard consonants were, and indeed still are, very difficult for her to pronounce in connection with one another in the same word; she often suppresses the one and changes the other, and sometimes she replaces both by an analogous sound with soft aspiration.
So I want to say to those who are trying to learn to speak and those who are teaching them: Be of good cheer.
But the extracts from Miss Sullivan's letters and from her reports, although they are clear and accurate, have not the beauty which distinguishes Miss Keller's English.
His love and care are written all over the walls of nature.
Tell her there are a few bitter drops in every one's cup, and the only way is to take the bitter patiently, and the sweet thankfully.
I shall love to hear of her reception of the book and how she likes the stories which are new to her.
Some were red, some white, and others pale pink, and they were just peeping out of the green leaves, as rosy-faced children peep out from their warm beds in wintertime before they are quite willing to get up.
After awhile he went nearer, and looking closely at the buds, found that they were folded up, leaf over leaf, as eyelids are folded over sleeping eyes, so that Birdie thought they must be asleep.
"The Frost Fairies" and "The Frost Kings" are given in full, as the differences are as important as the resemblances:
But his most wonderful work is the painting of the trees, which look, after his task is done, as if they were covered with the brightest layers of gold and rubies; and are beautiful enough to comfort us for the flight of summer.
Their pleasure charmed away King Frost's anger, and he, too, began to admire the painted trees, and at last he said to himself, My treasures are not wasted if they make little children happy.
The walls are curiously constructed of massive blocks of ice which terminate in cliff-like towers.
"The leaves are as lovely as the flowers!" cried they, in their delight.
He said to himself, My treasures are not wasted if they make little children happy.
With most of us the contributions from different sources are blended, crossed and confused.
The reason that we do not observe this process in ordinary children is, because we seldom observe them at all, and because they are fed from so many sources that the memories are confused and mutually destructive.
Words often make the thought, and the master of words will say things greater than are in him.
The deaf child who has only the sign language of De l'Epee is an intellectual Philip Nolan, an alien from all races, and his thoughts are not the thoughts of an Englishman, or a Frenchman, or a Spaniard.
After all, sight and hearing are but two of the beautiful blessings which God had given me.
It seems worth while, however, to quote from some of her chance bits of writing, which are neither so informal as her letters nor so carefully composed as her story of her life.
These extracts are from her exercises in her course in composition, where she showed herself at the beginning of her college life quite without rival among her classmates.
They are regarded generally as far more appropriate in books and in public discourses than in the parlor or at the table.
When all outside is cold and white, when the little children of the woodland are gone to their nurseries in the warm earth, and the empty nests on the bare trees fill with snow, my window-garden glows and smiles, making summer within while it is winter without.
Methinks "they are jesters at the Court of Heaven."
I rarely have dreams that are not in keeping with what I really think and feel, but one night my very nature seemed to change, and I stood in the eye of the world a mighty man and a terrible.
Perhaps they are the ghosts of thoughts that once inhabited the mind of an ancestor.
There are also rare and beautiful moments when I see and hear in Dreamland.
It is hard to have a Southern overseer; it is worse to have a Northern one; but worst of all when you are the slave-driver of yourself.
A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind.
The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles!
What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment!
So thoroughly and sincerely are we compelled to live, reverencing our life, and denying the possibility of change.
This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre.
So, we are told, the New Hollander goes naked with impunity, while the European shivers in his clothes.
Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers.
They make shift to live merely by conformity, practically as their fathers did, and are in no sense the progenitors of a noble race of men.
Are we sure that there is none of it in our own lives?
There are some who complain most energetically and inconsolably of any, because they are, as they say, doing their duty.
If I should attempt to tell how I have desired to spend my life in years past, it would probably surprise those of my readers who are somewhat acquainted with its actual history; it would certainly astonish those who know nothing about it.
Many are the travellers I have spoken concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they answered to.
They are no better than wooden horses to hang the clean clothes on.
Old shoes will serve a hero longer than they have served his valet--if a hero ever has a valet--bare feet are older than shoes, and he can make them do.
But if my jacket and trousers, my hat and shoes, are fit to worship God in, they will do; will they not?
We are amused at beholding the costume of Henry VIII, or Queen Elizabeth, as much as if it was that of the King and Queen of the Cannibal Islands.
When the soldier is hit by a cannonball, rags are as becoming as purple.
At last, we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think.
The meaner sort are covered with mats which they make of a kind of bulrush, and are also indifferently tight and warm, but not so good as the former....
What mean ye by saying that the poor ye have always with you, or that the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge?
Behold all souls are mine; as the soul of the father, so also the soul of the son is mine: the soul that sinneth, it shall die.
If you would know the history of these homesteads, inquire at the bank where they are mortgaged.
I doubt if there are three such men in Concord.
But this puts an infinitely worse face on the matter, and suggests, beside, that probably not even the other three succeed in saving their souls, but are perchance bankrupt in a worse sense than they who fail honestly.
This is the reason he is poor; and for a similar reason we are all poor in respect to a thousand savage comforts, though surrounded by luxuries.
Granted that the majority are able at last either to own or hire the modern house with all its improvements.
And if the civilized man's pursuits are no worthier than the savage's, if he is employed the greater part of his life in obtaining gross necessaries and comforts merely, why should he have a better dwelling than the former?
On the one side is the palace, on the other are the almshouse and "silent poor."
It certainly is fair to look at that class by whose labor the works which distinguish this generation are accomplished.
Yet I have no doubt that that people's rulers are as wise as the average of civilized rulers.
I hardly need refer now to the laborers in our Southern States who produce the staple exports of this country, and are themselves a staple production of the South.
But to confine myself to those who are said to be in moderate circumstances.
Or what if I were to allow--would it not be a singular allowance?--that our furniture should be more complex than the Arab's, in proportion as we are morally and intellectually his superiors!
At present our houses are cluttered and defiled with it, and a good housewife would sweep out the greater part into the dust hole, and not leave her morning's work undone.
The best works of art are the expression of man's struggle to free himself from this condition, but the effect of our art is merely to make this low state comfortable and that higher state to be forgotten.
Are you one of the ninety-seven who fail, or the three who succeed?
But are the more pressing wants satisfied now?
In such a neighborhood as this, boards and shingles, lime and bricks, are cheaper and more easily obtained than suitable caves, or whole logs, or bark in sufficient quantities, or even well-tempered clay or flat stones.
With a little more wit we might use these materials so as to become richer than the richest now are, and make our civilization a blessing.
No man was ever more honored in the character of his raisers than I. They are destined, I trust, to assist at the raising of loftier structures one day.
Who knows but if men constructed their dwellings with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so engaged?
A great proportion of architectural ornaments are literally hollow, and a September gale would strip them off, like borrowed plumes, without injury to the substantials.
So are made the belles-lettres and the beaux-arts and their professors.
These are all the materials, excepting the timber, stones, and sand, which I claimed by squatter's right.
Those things for which the most money is demanded are never the things which the student most wants.
Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things.
They are but improved means to an unimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive at; as railroads lead to Boston or New York.
You will in the meanwhile have earned your fare, and arrive there some time tomorrow, or possibly this evening, if you are lucky enough to get a job in season.
However, I should never have broken a horse or bull and taken him to board for any work he might do for me, for fear I should become a horseman or a herdsman merely; and if society seems to be the gainer by so doing, are we certain that what is one man's gain is not another's loss, and that the stable-boy has equal cause with his master to be satisfied?
This town is said to have the largest houses for oxen, cows, and horses hereabouts, and it is not behindhand in its public buildings; but there are very few halls for free worship or free speech in this county.
Towers and temples are the luxury of princes.
Nations are possessed with an insane ambition to perpetuate the memory of themselves by the amount of hammered stone they leave.
The religion and civilization which are barbaric and heathenish build splendid temples; but what you might call Christianity does not.
Many are concerned about the monuments of the West and the East--to know who built them.
The human race is interested in these experiments, though a few old women who are incapacitated for them, or who own their thirds in mills, may be alarmed.
It is the same as if all these traps were buckled to a man's belt, and he could not move over the rough country where our lines are cast without dragging them--dragging his trap.
It is by a mathematical point only that we are wise, as the sailor or the fugitive slave keeps the polestar in his eye; but that is sufficient guidance for all our life.
While my townsmen and women are devoted in so many ways to the good of their fellows, I trust that one at least may be spared to other and less humane pursuits.
As for Doing-good, that is one of the professions which are full.
Men say, practically, Begin where you are and such as you are, without aiming mainly to become of more worth, and with kindness aforethought go about doing good.
Howard was no doubt an exceedingly kind and worthy man in his way, and has his reward; but, comparatively speaking, what are a hundred Howards to us, if their philanthropy do not help us in our best estate, when we are most worthy to be helped?
The kind uncles and aunts of the race are more esteemed than its true spiritual fathers and mothers.
I do not value chiefly a man's uprightness and benevolence, which are, as it were, his stem and leaves.
Those plants of whose greenness withered we make herb tea for the sick serve but a humble use, and are most employed by quacks.
At a certain season of our life we are accustomed to consider every spot as the possible site of a house.
It makes but little difference whether you are committed to a farm or the county jail.
The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it.
We are wont to imagine rare and delectable places in some remote and more celestial corner of the system, behind the constellation of Cassiopeia's Chair, far from noise and disturbance.
All poets and heroes, like Memnon, are the children of Aurora, and emit their music at sunrise.
They are not such poor calculators.
The millions are awake enough for physical labor; but only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual exertion, only one in a hundred millions to a poetic or divine life.
And if railroads are not built, how shall we get to heaven in season?
Did you ever think what those sleepers are that underlie the railroad?
The rails are laid on them, and they are covered with sand, and the cars run smoothly over them.
They are sound sleepers, I assure you.
We are determined to be starved before we are hungry.
I think that there are very few important communications made through it.
To a philosopher all news, as it is called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over their tea.
Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous.
Children, who play life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by experience, that is, by failure.
But all these times and places and occasions are now and here.
And we are enabled to apprehend at all what is sublime and noble only by the perpetual instilling and drenching of the reality that surrounds us.
Weather this danger and you are safe, for the rest of the way is down hill.
We will consider what kind of music they are like.
If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business.
In accumulating property for ourselves or our posterity, in founding a family or a state, or acquiring fame even, we are mortal; but in dealing with truth we are immortal, and need fear no change nor accident.
They seem as solitary, and the letter in which they are printed as rare and curious, as ever.
For what are the classics but the noblest recorded thoughts of man?
They are the only oracles which are not decayed, and there are such answers to the most modern inquiry in them as Delphi and Dodona never gave.
It is not enough even to be able to speak the language of that nation by which they are written, for there is a memorable interval between the spoken and the written language, the language heard and the language read.
What the Roman and Grecian multitude could not hear, after the lapse of ages a few scholars read, and a few scholars only are still reading it.
However much we may admire the orator's occasional bursts of eloquence, the noblest written words are commonly as far behind or above the fleeting spoken language as the firmament with its stars is behind the clouds.
There are the stars, and they who can may read them.
They are not exhalations like our daily colloquies and vaporous breath.
Books are the treasured wealth of the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations.
Their authors are a natural and irresistible aristocracy in every society, and, more than kings or emperors, exert an influence on mankind.
There are those who, like cormorants and ostriches, can digest all sorts of this, even after the fullest dinner of meats and vegetables, for they suffer nothing to be wasted.
The best books are not read even by those who are called good readers.
Or suppose he comes from reading a Greek or Latin classic in the original, whose praises are familiar even to the so-called illiterate; he will find nobody at all to speak to, but must keep silence about it.
We are underbred and low-lived and illiterate; and in this respect I confess I do not make any very broad distinction between the illiterateness of my townsman who cannot read at all and the illiterateness of him who has learned to read only what is for children and feeble intellects.
It is not all books that are as dull as their readers.
We need to be provoked--goaded like oxen, as we are, into a trot.
Alas! what with foddering the cattle and tending the store, we are kept from school too long, and our education is sadly neglected.
A bird sits on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and strawberry leaves are strewn about.
The whistle of the locomotive penetrates my woods summer and winter, sounding like the scream of a hawk sailing over some farmer's yard, informing me that many restless city merchants are arriving within the circle of the town, or adventurous country traders from the other side.
All the Indian huckleberry hills are stripped, all the cranberry meadows are raked into the city.
Their train of clouds stretching far behind and rising higher and higher, going to heaven while the cars are going to Boston, conceals the sun for a minute and casts my distant field into the shade, a celestial train beside which the petty train of cars which hugs the earth is but the barb of the spear.
The startings and arrivals of the cars are now the epochs in the village day.
They are proof-sheets which need no correction.
Next Spanish hides, with the tails still preserving their twist and the angle of elevation they had when the oxen that wore them were careering over the pampas of the Spanish Main--a type of all obstinacy, and evincing how almost hopeless and incurable are all constitutional vices.
But their dogs, where are they?
For the rest of the long afternoon, perhaps, my meditations are interrupted only by the faint rattle of a carriage or team along the distant highway.
His health is ever good, his lungs are sound, his spirits never flag.
As I walk along the stony shore of the pond in my shirt-sleeves, though it is cool as well as cloudy and windy, and I see nothing special to attract me, all the elements are unusually congenial to me.
These small waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the smooth reflecting surface.
They are Nature's watchmen--links which connect the days of animated life.
Next to us the grandest laws are continually being executed.
They are everywhere, above us, on our left, on our right; they environ us on all sides.
We are the subjects of an experiment which is not a little interesting to me.
We are not wholly involved in Nature.
We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers.
So also, owing to bodily and mental health and strength, we may be continually cheered by a like but more normal and natural society, and come to know that we are never alone.
Objects of charity are not guests.
My auxiliaries are the dews and rains which water this dry soil, and what fertility is in the soil itself, which for the most part is lean and effete.
My enemies are worms, cool days, and most of all woodchucks.
Mine was, as it were, the connecting link between wild and cultivated fields; as some states are civilized, and others half-civilized, and others savage or barbarous, so my field was, though not in a bad sense, a half-cultivated field.
While you are planting the seed, he cries--"Drop it, drop it--cover it up, cover it up--pull it up, pull it up, pull it up."
We should really be fed and cheered if when we met a man we were sure to see that some of the qualities which I have named, which we all prize more than those other productions, but which are for the most part broadcast and floating in the air, had taken root and grown in him.
We are wont to forget that the sun looks on our cultivated fields and on the prairies and forests without distinction.
These beans have results which are not harvested by me.
These are the coarsest mills, in which all gossip is first rudely digested or cracked up before it is emptied into finer and more delicate hoppers within doors.
In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain well-known beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course we still carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape; and not till we are completely lost, or turned round--for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost--do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of nature.
The virtues of a superior man are like the wind; the virtues of a common man are like the grass--the grass, when the wind passes over it, bends.
They are exclusively woodland.
In stormy weather they are sometimes of a dark slate-color.
But, looking directly down into our waters from a boat, they are seen to be of very different colors.
These are the lips of the lake, on which no beard grows.
In the winter, all water which is exposed to the air is colder than springs and wells which are protected from it.
Its pickerel, though not abundant, are its chief boast.
These are all very firm fish, and weigh more than their size promises.
There are also a clean race of frogs and tortoises, and a few mussels in it; muskrats and minks leave their traces about it, and occasionally a travelling mud-turtle visits it.
These are all the animals of consequence which frequent it now.
They are similar to those found in rivers; but as there are no suckers nor lampreys here, I know not by what fish they could be made.
Perhaps they are the nests of the chivin.
There are few traces of man's hand to be seen.
The fluviatile trees next the shore are the slender eyelashes which fringe it, and the wooded hills and cliffs around are its overhanging brows.
Indeed, they sometimes dive below this line, as it were by mistake, and are undeceived.
It is like molten glass cooled but not congealed, and the few motes in it are pure and beautiful like the imperfections in glass.
It is wonderful with what elaborateness this simple fact is advertised--this piscine murder will out--and from my distant perch I distinguish the circling undulations when they are half a dozen rods in diameter.
The thrills of joy and thrills of pain are undistinguishable.
The hills which form its shores are so steep, and the woods on them were then so high, that, as you looked down from the west end, it had the appearance of an amphitheatre for some land of sylvan spectacle.
How can you expect the birds to sing when their groves are cut down?
These wash back and forth in shallow water on a sandy bottom, and are sometimes cast on the shore.
Farmers are respectable and interesting to me in proportion as they are poor--poor farmers.
No, no; if the fairest features of the landscape are to be named after men, let them be the noblest and worthiest men alone.
They are so much alike that you would say they must be connected under ground.
It has the same stony shore, and its waters are of the same hue.
White Pond and Walden are great crystals on the surface of the earth, Lakes of Light.
They are too pure to have a market value; they contain no muck.
How much more beautiful than our lives, how much more transparent than our characters, are they!
The birds with their plumage and their notes are in harmony with the flowers, but what youth or maiden conspires with the wild luxuriant beauty of Nature?
But the only true America is that country where you are at liberty to pursue such a mode of life as may enable you to do without these, and where the state does not endeavor to compel you to sustain the slavery and war and other superfluous expenses which directly or indirectly result from the use of such things.
I am not squeamish in such cases when manners are concerned.
There are no larger fields than these, no worthier games than may here be played.
The wildness and adventure that are in fishing still recommended it to me.
We are most interested when science reports what those men already know practically or instinctively, for that alone is a true humanity, or account of human experience.
There is a period in the history of the individual, as of the race, when the hunters are the "best men," as the Algonquins called them.
The mass of men are still and always young in this respect.
It is a faint intimation, yet so are the first streaks of morning.
Yet till this is otherwise we are not civilized, and, if gentlemen and ladies, are not true men and women.
If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal--that is your success.
They are the highest reality.
Perhaps the facts most astounding and most real are never communicated by man to man.
I would fain keep sober always; and there are infinite degrees of drunkenness.
Perhaps these questions are entertained only in youth, as most believe of poetry.
Though the youth at last grows indifferent, the laws of the universe are not indifferent, but are forever on the side of the most sensitive.
We are conscious of an animal in us, which awakens in proportion as our higher nature slumbers.
A command over our passions, and over the external senses of the body, and good acts, are declared by the Ved to be indispensable in the mind's approximation to God.
Chastity is the flowering of man; and what are called Genius, Heroism, Holiness, and the like, are but various fruits which succeed it.
They are but one appetite, and we only need to see a person do any one of these things to know how great a sensualist he is.
What avails it that you are Christian, if you are not purer than the heathen, if you deny yourself no more, if you are not more religious?
I hesitate to say these things, but it is not because of the subject--I care not how obscene my words are--but because I cannot speak of them without betraying my impurity.
We discourse freely without shame of one form of sensuality, and are silent about another.
We are so degraded that we cannot speak simply of the necessary functions of human nature.
We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bones.
The hands are coming in to boiled salt beef and cider and Indian bread.
Oh, they swarm; the sun is too warm there; they are born too far into life for me.
Angleworms are rarely to be met with in these parts, where the soil was never fattened with manure; the race is nearly extinct.
Those village worms are quite too large; a shiner may make a meal off one without finding the skewer.
They are not callow like the young of most birds, but more perfectly developed and precocious even than chickens.
It is said that when hatched by a hen they will directly disperse on some alarm, and so are lost, for they never hear the mother's call which gathers them again.
A similar engagement between great and small ants is recorded by Olaus Magnus, in which the small ones, being victorious, are said to have buried the bodies of their own soldiers, but left those of their giant enemies a prey to the birds.
At rumor of his arrival all the Mill-dam sportsmen are on the alert, in gigs and on foot, two by two and three by three, with patent rifles and conical balls and spy-glasses.
The mortar on them was fifty years old, and was said to be still growing harder; but this is one of those sayings which men love to repeat whether they are true or not.
Many of the villages of Mesopotamia are built of second-hand bricks of a very good quality, obtained from the ruins of Babylon, and the cement on them is older and probably harder still.
These forms are more agreeable to the fancy and imagination than fresco paintings or other the most expensive furniture.
There are many furrows in the sand where some creature has travelled about and doubled on its tracks; and, for wrecks, it is strewn with the cases of caddis-worms made of minute grains of white quartz.
These bubbles are from an eightieth to an eighth of an inch in diameter, very clear and beautiful, and you see your face reflected in them through the ice.
But these within the ice are not so numerous nor obvious as those beneath.
His bread and meat are sweet.
Mechanics and tradesmen who come in person to the forest on no other errand, are sure to attend the wood auction, and even pay a high price for the privilege of gleaning after the woodchopper.
They are almost indestructible.
There are a few who remember his little patch among the walnuts, which he let grow up till he should be old and need them; but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last.
One old frequenter of these woods remembers, that as he passed her house one noon he heard her muttering to herself over her gurgling pot--"Ye are all bones, bones!"
Farther down the hill, on the left, on the old road in the woods, are marks of some homestead of the Stratton family; whose orchard once covered all the slope of Brister's Hill, but was long since killed out by pitch pines, excepting a few stumps, whose old roots furnish still the wild stocks of many a thrifty village tree.
Once more, on the left, where are seen the well and lilac bushes by the wall, in the now open field, lived Nutting and Le Grosse.
The vivacious lilac still grows, unfolding its sweet-scented flowers each spring.
Deliver me from a city built on the site of a more ancient city, whose materials are ruins, whose gardens cemeteries.
We talked of rude and simple times, when men sat about large fires in cold, bracing weather, with clear heads; and when other dessert failed, we tried our teeth on many a nut which wise squirrels have long since abandoned, for those which have the thickest shells are commonly empty.
His words and attitude always suppose a better state of things than other men are acquainted with, and he will be the last man to be disappointed as the ages revolve.
The partridge and the rabbit are still sure to thrive, like true natives of the soil, whatever revolutions occur.
Early in the morning, while all things are crisp with frost, men come with fishing-reels and slender lunch, and let down their fine lines through the snowy field to take pickerel and perch; wild men, who instinctively follow other fashions and trust other authorities than their townsmen, and by their goings and comings stitch towns together in parts where else they would be ripped.
The things which they practice are said not yet to be known.
The perch swallows the grub-worm, the pickerel swallows the perch, and the fisher-man swallows the pickerel; and so all the chinks in the scale of being are filled.
They, of course, are Walden all over and all through; are themselves small Waldens in the animal kingdom, Waldenses.
It is surprising that they are caught here--that in this deep and capacious spring, far beneath the rattling teams and chaises and tinkling sleighs that travel the Walden road, this great gold and emerald fish swims.
But the deepest ponds are not so deep in proportion to their area as most suppose, and, if drained, would not leave very remarkable valleys.
They are not like cups between the hills; for this one, which is so unusually deep for its area, appears in a vertical section through its centre not deeper than a shallow plate.
In the deepest part there are several acres more level than almost any field which is exposed to the sun, wind, and plow.
Our notions of law and harmony are commonly confined to those instances which we detect; but the harmony which results from a far greater number of seemingly conflicting, but really concurring, laws, which we have not detected, is still more wonderful.
The particular laws are as our points of view, as, to the traveller, a mountain outline varies with every step, and it has an infinite number of profiles, though absolutely but one form.
Also there is a bar across the entrance of our every cove, or particular inclination; each is our harbor for a season, in which we are detained and partially land-locked.
It is true, we are such poor navigators that our thoughts, for the most part, stand off and on upon a harborless coast, are conversant only with the bights of the bays of poesy, or steer for the public ports of entry, and go into the dry docks of science, where they merely refit for this world, and no natural currents concur to individualize them.
These ice-cutters are a merry race, full of jest and sport, and when I went among them they were wont to invite me to saw pit-fashion with them, I standing underneath.
Ice has its grain as well as wood, and when a cake begins to rot or "comb," that is, assume the appearance of honeycomb, whatever may be its position, the air cells are at right angles with what was the water surface.
The night is the winter, the morning and evening are the spring and fall, and the noon is the summer.
Fogs and rains and warmer suns are gradually melting the snow; the days have grown sensibly longer; and I see how I shall get through the winter without adding to my wood-pile, for large fires are no longer necessary.
At length the sun's rays have attained the right angle, and warm winds blow up mist and rain and melt the snowbanks, and the sun, dispersing the mist, smiles on a checkered landscape of russet and white smoking with incense, through which the traveller picks his way from islet to islet, cheered by the music of a thousand tinkling rills and rivulets whose veins are filled with the blood of winter which they are bearing off.
As it flows it takes the forms of sappy leaves or vines, making heaps of pulpy sprays a foot or more in depth, and resembling, as you look down on them, the laciniated, lobed, and imbricated thalluses of some lichens; or you are reminded of coral, of leopard's paws or birds' feet, of brains or lungs or bowels, and excrements of all kinds.
The various shades of the sand are singularly rich and agreeable, embracing the different iron colors, brown, gray, yellowish, and reddish.
The atoms have already learned this law, and are pregnant by it.
The feathers and wings of birds are still drier and thinner leaves.
The whole tree itself is but one leaf, and rivers are still vaster leaves whose pulp is intervening earth, and towns and cities are the ova of insects in their axils.
You here see perchance how blood-vessels are formed.
Such are the sources of rivers.
The cheeks are a slide from the brows into the valley of the face, opposed and diffused by the cheek bones.
And not only it, but the institutions upon it are plastic like clay in the hands of the potter.
Many of the phenomena of Winter are suggestive of an inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy.
What at such a time are histories, chronologies, traditions, and all written revelations?
It is almost identical with that, for in the growing days of June, when the rills are dry, the grass-blades are their channels, and from year to year the herds drink at this perennial green stream, and the mower draws from it betimes their winter supply.
In almost all climes the tortoise and the frog are among the precursors and heralds of this season, and birds fly with song and glancing plumage, and plants spring and bloom, and winds blow, to correct this slight oscillation of the poles and preserve the equilibrium of nature.
In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven.
Are those the true and natural sentiments of man?
This sight reminded me of falconry and what nobleness and poetry are associated with that sport.
At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be infinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable.
Poison is not poisonous after all, nor are any wounds fatal.
If you are chosen town clerk, forsooth, you cannot go to Tierra del Fuego this summer: but you may go to the land of infernal fire nevertheless.
Are these the problems which most concern mankind?
Herein are demanded the eye and the nerve.
Extra vagance! it depends on how you are yarded.
Sometimes we are inclined to class those who are once-and-a-half-witted with the half-witted, because we appreciate only a third part of their wit.
Some are dinning in our ears that we Americans, and moderns generally, are intellectual dwarfs compared with the ancients, or even the Elizabethan men.
For the most part, we are not where we are, but in a false position.
It looks poorest when you are richest.
Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving.
We are often reminded that if there were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus, our aims must still be the same, and our means essentially the same.
You are defended from being a trifler.
The interest and the conversation are about costume and manners chiefly; but a goose is a goose still, dress it as you will.
What are men celebrating?
The learned societies and great men of Assyria--where are they?
We are acquainted with a mere pellicle of the globe on which we live.
Beside, we are sound asleep nearly half our time.
Truly, we are deep thinkers, we are ambitious spirits!
I need only suggest what kind of sermons are still listened to in the most enlightened countries.
There are such words as joy and sorrow, but they are only the burden of a psalm, sung with a nasal twang, while we believe in the ordinary and mean.
Only that day dawns to which we are awake.
Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I believe,--"That government is best which governs not at all"; and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will have.
Government is at best but an expedient; but most governments are usually, and all governments are sometimes, inexpedient.
After all, the practical reason why, when the power is once in the hands of the people, a majority are permitted, and for a long period continue, to rule, is not because they are most likely to be in the right, nor because this seems fairest to the minority, but because they are physically the strongest.
Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice.
They have no doubt that it is a damnable business in which they are concerned; they are all peaceably inclined.
They are the standing army, and the militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus, etc.
Others, as most legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers, and office-holders, serve the state chiefly with their heads; and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God.
A very few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men, serve the state with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated as enemies by it.
We are accustomed to say, that the mass of men are unprepared; but improvement is slow, because the few are not materially wiser or better than the many.
When the majority shall at length vote for the abolition of slavery, it will be because they are indifferent to slavery, or because there is but little slavery left to be abolished by their vote.
Are there not many individuals in the country who do not attend conventions?
How many men are there to a square thousand miles in this country?
The slight reproach to which the virtue of patriotism is commonly liable, the noble are most likely to incur.
Some are petitioning the State to dissolve the Union, to disregard the requisitions of the President.
To such the State renders comparatively small service, and a slight tax is wont to appear exorbitant, particularly if they are obliged to earn it by special labor with their hands.
The opportunities of living are diminished in proportion as what are called the "means" are increased.
Confucius said, "If a state is governed by the principles of reason, poverty and misery are subjects of shame; if a state is not governed by the principles of reason, riches and honors are the subjects of shame."
They plainly did not know how to treat me, but behaved like persons who are underbred.
Probably this is the only house in the town where verses are composed, which are afterward printed in a circular form, but not published.
They are wont to forget that the world is not governed by policy and expediency.
His words are wisdom to those legislators who contemplate no essential reform in the existing government; but for thinkers, and those who legislate for all time, he never once glances at the subject.
There are really no blows to be given by him but defensive ones.
His leaders are the men of '87.
They are rare in the history of the world.
You are so eloquent.
And why are children born to such men as you?
"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people," the abbe was saying.
Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?
And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause.
Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper.
Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important.
"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her.
"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte.
Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French?
Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist? asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.
"Well, why are you going to the war?" asked Pierre.
How stupid you men all are not to have married her!
What an argumentative fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!
"When are you starting?" he asked.
What is it you are afraid of, Lise?
"I still can't understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.
You are going to the war and have no pity for me.
Marry when you are old and good for nothing--or all that is good and noble in you will be lost.
You are the first and only one to whom I mention this, because I like you.
Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality--these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from.
If you only knew what those society women are, and women in general!
Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary to wheels that they may run smoothly.
I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among our whole set.
Women who are comme il faut, that's a different matter; but the Kuragins' set of women, 'women and wine' I don't understand!
I'll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to ----'s.
"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the visitor.
His children are all illegitimate.
"Yes, they are splendid, splendid youngsters," chimed in the count, who always solved questions that seemed to him perplexing by deciding that everything was splendid.
"People are always too clever with their eldest children and try to make something exceptional of them," said the visitor.
You alone are everything! said Nicholas.
"How funny you are!" he said, bending down to her and blushing still more, but he waited and did nothing.
You are in love with me?
There are not many left of us old friends!
Don't you see you are not wanted here?
But I'll just tell Mamma how you are behaving with Boris.
You are a Madame de Genlis and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by Nicholas, was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure is to be unpleasant to people!
Don't I know that at the rate we are living our means won't last long?
And my affairs are in such a bad way that my position is now a terrible one, continued Anna Mikhaylovna, sadly, dropping her voice.
These rich grandees are so selfish.
Are you here on leave? he went on in his usual tone of indifference.
Are you living with your mother?
They are still young....
How priceless are those last moments!
The doctors are expecting a crisis.
He sent for Pierre and said to him: My dear fellow, if you are going to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very badly; that is all I have to say to you.
People are always disturbing him, answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was.
Then you are his son, Ilya?
"You are mistaken," said Boris deliberately, with a bold and slightly sarcastic smile.
So you are Boris?
"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone.
Just now they are talking about you and your father.
But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people.
"No, but I say," said Pierre, calming down, "you are a wonderful fellow!
He is so rich, and we are so poor!
What a saute of game au madere we are to have, my dear!
What are your commands, little countess?
Hey, who's there? he called out in a tone only used by persons who are certain that those they call will rush to obey the summons.
No, Peter Nikolaevich; I only want to show that in the cavalry the advantages are far less than in the infantry.
It was just the moment before a big dinner when the assembled guests, expecting the summons to zakuska, * avoid engaging in any long conversation but think it necessary to move about and talk, in order to show that they are not at all impatient for their food.
You are very kind...
"Health and happiness to her whose name day we are keeping and to her children," she said, in her loud, full-toned voice which drowned all others.
Just see how these nestlings are growing up, and she pointed to the girls.
Natasha, who sat opposite, was looking at Boris as girls of thirteen look at the boy they are in love with and have just kissed for the first time.
"And why the deuce are we going to fight Bonaparte?" remarked Shinshin.
What are you making such a noise about over there?
"What are you thumping the table for?" she demanded of the hussar, "and why are you exciting yourself?
Do you think the French are here?
What sweets are we going to have? and Natasha's voice sounded still more firm and resolute.
What sweets are we going to have?
And we are only second cousins, you know.
"The limits of human life... are fixed and may not be o'erpassed," said an old priest to a lady who had taken a seat beside him and was listening naively to his words.
You know, Catiche, that we--you three sisters, Mamontov, and my wife-- are the count's only direct heirs.
The princess smiled as people do who think they know more about the subject under discussion than those they are talking with.
If not, then as soon as all is over," and Prince Vasili sighed to intimate what he meant by the words all is over, "and the count's papers are opened, the will and letter will be delivered to the Emperor, and the petition will certainly be granted.
"I know the will was made, but I also know that it is invalid; and you, mon cousin, seem to consider me a perfect fool," said the princess with the expression women assume when they suppose they are saying something witty and stinging.
Yes, but you are not the only one.
There are your sisters... replied Prince Vasili.
You don't know what you are doing.
"What are you doing!" she cried vehemently.
He used to say that there are only two sources of human vice--idleness and superstition, and only two virtues--activity and intelligence.
Now, madam, these triangles are equal; please note that the angle ABC...
"This won't do, Princess; it won't do," said he, when Princess Mary, having taken and closed the exercise book with the next day's lesson, was about to leave: "Mathematics are most important, madam!
Why are we not together as we were last summer, in your big study, on the blue sofa, the confidential sofa?
One of my two brothers is already abroad, the other is with the Guards, who are starting on their march to the frontier.
You are fortunate, for the latter are generally the stronger!
Though there are things in it difficult for the feeble human mind to grasp, it is an admirable book which calms and elevates the soul.
What then should I say, if I dared complain, I who am deprived of all who are dear to me?
Let us not seek to penetrate what mysteries they contain; for how can we, miserable sinners that we are, know the terrible and holy secrets of Providence while we remain in this flesh which forms an impenetrable veil between us and the Eternal?
Not only where you are--at the heart of affairs and of the world--is the talk all of war, even here amid fieldwork and the calm of nature--which townsfolk consider characteristic of the country--rumors of war are heard and painfully felt.
Ah, you are sending off a letter, Princess?
You are Mademoiselle Bourienne, said the little princess, kissing her.
"So you are really going to the war, Andrew?" she said sighing.
And are the hours the same?
"The hours are the same, and the lathe, and also the mathematics and my geometry lessons," said Princess Mary gleefully, as if her lessons in geometry were among the greatest delights of her life.
The prince, who generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely admitted even important government officials to his table, had unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or I."
When starting on a journey or changing their mode of life, men capable of reflection are generally in a serious frame of mind.
You are not angry with me for coming?
"You are good in every way, Andrew, but you have a kind of intellectual pride," said the princess, following the train of her own thoughts rather than the trend of the conversation--"and that's a great sin.
I know you are just like Father.
So remember, these are my memoirs; hand them to the Emperor after my death.
Here are some jottings for you to read when I am gone.
Did he say when the battles are to begin?
The Prussians are up in arms now.
The Austrians, you see, are putting them down.
You just sit still and are drawn along.
And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly.
"My dear fellow, how are you?" said he through the singing, making his horse keep pace with the company.
They are good fellows.
And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, You are quite at liberty not to believe me and I don't even care whether you do or not, but you have no grounds for telling me so.
Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we cannot be deprived of the advantage of commanding both sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not cross the Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line of communications, recross the river lower down, and frustrate his intention should he try to direct his whole force against our faithful ally.
Here are two letters from Count Nostitz and here is one from His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand and here are these," he said, handing him several papers, "make a neat memorandum in French out of all this, showing all the news we have had of the movements of the Austrian army, and then give it to his excellency."
I am ordered to write a memorandum explaining why we are not advancing.
"Why are you so glum?" asked Nesvitski noticing Prince Andrew's pale face and glittering eyes.
Don't you understand that either we are officers serving our Tsar and our country, rejoicing in the successes and grieving at the misfortunes of our common cause, or we are merely lackeys who care nothing for their master's business.
"Walk him up and down, my dear fellow," he continued, with that gay brotherly cordiality which goodhearted young people show to everyone when they are happy.
"Well there certainly are disgusting people," thought Rostov as he entered.
But where are you off to?
We are childwen of the dust... but one falls in love and one is a God, one is pua' as on the first day of cweation...
Well, what are you standing there for, you sca'cwow?
You are mad, I tell you.
Are you going to have lunch too?
You are offended at being put on duty a bit, but why not apologize to an old and honorable officer?
Why are you not eating anything, gentlemen?
Look there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging something.
They say there are Italian girls among them.
"What a fine fellow you are, friend!" said the Cossack to a convoy soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the infantrymen who were crowded together close to his wheels and his horses.
Are there many more of you to come?
"Where are you going?" asked an infantry officer who was eating an apple, also half smiling as he looked at the handsome girl.
And why are they stopping?
Where are you shoving to?
"What a dandy you are today!" said Nesvitski, looking at Denisov's new cloak and saddlecloth.
What good are they?
But you are strong, healthy, cheerful, and excited, and are surrounded by other such excitedly animated and healthy men.
And why are you stopping here?
Don't you see the skirmishers are retreating?
But you are damp!
"Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are within grapeshot range now."
Our Bogdanich knows how things are done.
There--they are shouting again, and again are all running back somewhere, and I shall run with them, and it, death, is here above me and around...
He was not one of those many diplomats who are esteemed because they have certain negative qualities, avoid doing certain things, and speak French.
I confess I do not understand: perhaps there are diplomatic subtleties here beyond my feeble intelligence, but I can't make it out.
If not it is merely a question of settling where the preliminaries of the new Campo Formio are to be drawn up.
"When speaking to the Emperor, try as far as you can to praise the way that provisions are supplied and the routes indicated," said Bilibin, accompanying him to the hall.
"Oh, your excellency!" said Franz, with difficulty rolling the portmanteau into the vehicle, "we are to move on still farther.
And off they go and take the bridge, cross it, and now with their whole army are on this side of the Danube, marching on us, you, and your lines of communication.
Flower of the Austrian army, hero of the Turkish wars Hostilities are ended, we can shake one another's hand....
The sergeant, who was evidently wiser than his general, goes up to Auersperg and says: 'Prince, you are being deceived, here are the French!'
We are Macked), he concluded, feeling that he had produced a good epigram, a fresh one that would be repeated.
"Where are you off to?" he said suddenly to Prince Andrew who had risen and was going toward his room.
Why are you going?
Why are you going?
But as you are a philosopher, be a consistent one, look at the other side of the question and you will see that your duty, on the contrary, is to take care of yourself.
Leave it to those who are no longer fit for anything else....
They say we are going to Olmutz, and Olmutz is a very decent town.
Where and why are you going, when you might remain here?
You are faced by one of two things," and the skin over his left temple puckered, "either you will not reach your regiment before peace is concluded, or you will share defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov's whole army."
"My dear fellow, you are a hero!" said Bilibin.
They won't let us pass, we are left behind and have lost our people...
"And who are you?" cried the officer, turning on him with tipsy rage, "who are you?
Are you in command here?
We are to spend the night in Znaim.
Orders are issued for a battle.
You are causing me to lose the fruits of a campaign.
You are in a position to seize its baggage and artillery.
Officers are nothing when they have no powers; this one had none....
The Austrians let themselves be tricked at the crossing of the Vienna bridge, you are letting yourself be tricked by an aide-de-camp of the Emperor.
One would think that as an artillery officer you would set a good example, yet here you are without your boots!
"Only take care you and your Cossacks are not all captured!" said the French grenadier.
Of course you artillery men are very wise, because you can take everything along with you--vodka and snacks.
He asked, "Whose company?" but he really meant, "Are you frightened here?" and the artilleryman understood him.
It can't be an attack, for they are not moving; it can't be a square--for they are not drawn up for that.
"Ah, here are people coming," he thought joyfully, seeing some men running toward him.
Who are these men? thought Rostov, scarcely believing his eyes.
Why are they running?
"Your excellency, here are two trophies," said Dolokhov, pointing to the French sword and pouch.
"Why are they down on me?" thought Tushin, looking in alarm at his superior.
"What, are you wounded, my lad?" said Tushin, approaching the gun on which Rostov sat.
Why are they here?
He was always hearing such words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he really was very kind and intelligent.
No one has ever complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you could throw it up tomorrow.
"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna's voice, "I see you are all right there."
A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovna said to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?"
And you are still so young.
Pierre was one of those who are only strong when they feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he was overpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox at Anna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desire paralyzed his will.
They are all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that I cannot, I cannot, disappoint them.
How absent-minded you are, my dear fellow.
"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady.
"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about."
"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitors are coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked the little princess on hearing the news.
For me, there are no ministers!
"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked Mademoiselle Bourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers.
Are you unwell today?
Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess? she began.
Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess? she began.
They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself up at all!
What are Prince Vasili and that son of his to me?
Are there no women living unmarried, and even the happier for it?
"And so they are writing from Potsdam already?" he said, repeating Prince Vasili's last words.
You have done up your hair in this new way for the visitors, and before the visitors I tell you that in future you are never to dare to change your way of dress without my consent.
Now tell me, my dear boy, are you serving in the Horse Guards? asked the old man, scrutinizing Anatole closely and intently.
Well, are you off to the front?
When your father writes to tell me that you are behaving well I will give you my hand to kiss.
He receives his orders and will marry you or anybody; but you are free to choose....
You who are so pure can never understand being so carried away by passion.
"You are a little slyboots," she said.
It's true that all you women are crybabies, remarked Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides.
You are all blubberers and understand nothing.
"I'm not a goose, but they are who cry about trifles," said Petya.
"Why are you crying, Mamma?" asked Vera.
"Well, how are you going to get out of that?" he remarked.
Well, how are you?
"You are still the same dreamer, I see," remarked Boris, shaking his head.
Come, how are you? asked Rostov.
'Hey, are you dumb?' he shouted.
It is very difficult to tell the truth, and young people are rarely capable of it.
Wheels creak on their axles as the cogs engage one another and the revolving pulleys whirr with the rapidity of their movement, but a neighboring wheel is as quiet and motionless as though it were prepared to remain so for a hundred years; but the moment comes when the lever catches it and obeying the impulse that wheel begins to creak and joins in the common motion the result and aim of which are beyond its ken.
But in what position are we going to attack him?
"Whatever are you bothering about, gentlemen?" said Bilibin, who, till then, had listened with an amused smile to their conversation and now was evidently ready with a joke.
The commanders are: Herr General Wimpfen, le Comte de Langeron, le Prince de Lichtenstein, le Prince, de Hohenlohe, and finally Prishprish, and so on like all those Polish names.
He listened to what Langeron said, as if remarking, "So you are still at that silly business!" quickly closed his eye again, and let his head sink still lower.
All are struck by the justness of his views, but no one undertakes to carry them out, so he takes a regiment, a division-stipulates that no one is to interfere with his arrangements--leads his division to the decisive point, and gains the victory alone.
The dispositions for the next battle are planned by him alone.
If before that you are not ten times wounded, killed, or betrayed, well... what then?...
There are many stories of his getting to know an officer in just such a chance way and attaching him to himself!
Officer!" said Bagration to Rostov, "are the enemy's skirmishers still there?"
They are the same battalions you broke at Hollabrunn and have pursued ever since to this place.
The position we occupy is a strong one, and while they are marching to go round me on the right they will expose a flank to me.
They say the cavalry are blocking the way, said an officer.
"What division are you?" shouted an adjutant, riding up.
Then why are you here?
They don't themselves know what they are doing! said the officer and rode off.
Kindly do as you are ordered.
What are they doing?
What are they doing? he murmured to himself, still not replying to the Austrian.
"You know, Michael Ilarionovich, we are not on the Empress' Field where a parade does not begin till all the troops are assembled," said the Tsar with another glance at the Emperor Francis, as if inviting him if not to join in at least to listen to what he was saying.
"That is just why I do not begin, sire," said Kutuzov in a resounding voice, apparently to preclude the possibility of not being heard, and again something in his face twitched--"That is just why I do not begin, sire, because we are not on parade and not on the Empress' Field," said clearly and distinctly.
"You are wounded?" he asked, hardly able to master the trembling of his lower jaw.
Why are you hindering us?
"What are they about?" thought Prince Andrew as he gazed at them.
My legs are giving way, thought he, and fell on his back.
"Where are you off to?" asked Boris.
Whom are they firing at?
Go that way, to that village, all the commanders are there, said the officer, pointing to the village of Hosjeradek, and he walked on.
"Oh, what are you talking about?" said another.
"Move on a hundred yards and we are certainly saved, remain here another two minutes and it is certain death," thought each one.
"There are so many prisoners today, nearly the whole Russian army, that he is probably tired of them," said another officer.
"You are the commander of the Emperor Alexander's regiment of Horse Guards?" asked Napoleon.
"Dmitri," said Rostov to his valet on the box, "those lights are in our house, aren't they?"
Where are the candles?...
You are most welcome!
"No, but listen," she said, "now you are quite a man, aren't you?
I want to know what you men are like.
Are you the same as we?
How are you going to speak to her-- thou or you?
We are such friends, such friends!
All that ruler business was just nonsense, but we are friends forever.
Well, she says you are to forget all that....
"Well, and are you still true to Boris?" he continued.
Then what are you up to now?
"What are you about?" shouted Rostov, looking at him in an ecstasy of exasperation.
What are you about? whispered their frightened voices.
If you are going to fight a duel, and you make a will and write affectionate letters to your parents, and if you think you may be killed, you are a fool and are lost for certain.
But if you are alive--live: tomorrow you'll die as I might have died an hour ago.
That I shall be the laughingstock of all Moscow, that everyone will say that you, drunk and not knowing what you were about, challenged a man you are jealous of without cause.
Oh, you are very pale! said Princess Mary in alarm, running with her soft, ponderous steps up to her sister-in-law.
"God is merciful, doctors are never needed," she said.
I have an adored, a priceless mother, and two or three friends--you among them--and as for the rest I only care about them in so far as they are harmful or useful.
And most of them are harmful, especially the women.
At that time in the Rostovs' house there prevailed an amorous atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very charming girls.
It is the one thing we are interested in here, said the spirit of the place.
You are an angel: I am not worthy of you, but I am afraid of misleading you.
There was the fact that only those came who wished to dance and amuse themselves as girls of thirteen and fourteen do who are wearing long dresses for the first time.
Who are you talking about?
Or are you afraid to play with me?
Or are you afraid of me? he asked again.
And here are the gypsies!
We are enjoying ourselves!
Well, if you are in love, marry him! said the countess, with a laugh of annoyance.
Mamma, are you cross?
No, but you are so nice... but it won't do...not that... but as a friend, I shall always love you.
You are young and I am old.
Where are you traveling from?
"Allow me to ask," he said, "are you a Mason?"
You do not know Him and that is why you are unhappy.
Of what, of whom, are we speaking?
"The highest wisdom and truth are like the purest liquid we may wish to imbibe," he said.
You are young, you are rich, you are clever, you are well educated.
Are you content with yourself and with your life?
Where are you going to now, my dear sir?
You are going to Petersburg.
"If you are resolved, I must begin your initiation," said the Rhetor coming closer to Pierre.
The second pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of the third, a pair of women's gloves, he said: Dear brother, these woman's gloves are intended for you too.
And after a pause, he added: "But beware, dear brother, that these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean."
You are under a delusion, said Prince Vasili, as he entered.
But consider the position in which you are placing her and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court, he added, lowering his voice.
She is living in Moscow and you are here.
We are not fighting pour le Roi de Prusse, but for right principles.
There are precedents, I may mention Schwarzenberg.
In Petersburg everyone is rejoicing, and the rewards sent to the army are innumerable.
The Prussians are our faithful allies who have only betrayed us three times in three years.
The mails are taken to the field marshal's room, for he likes to do everything himself.
We search, but none are to be found.
There are thousands such as I in Russia.
Those that follow are naturally increasingly interesting and entertaining.
After the field marshal's departure it appears that we are within sight of the enemy and must give battle.
Buxhowden is commander-in-chief by seniority, but General Bennigsen does not quite see it; more particularly as it is he and his corps who are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the opportunity to fight a battle 'on his own hand' as the Germans say.
Both generals are angry, and the result is a challenge on Buxhowden's part and an epileptic fit on Bennigsen's.
The stores are empty, the roads impassable.
The inhabitants are totally ruined, the hospitals overflow with sick, and famine is everywhere.
What are your plans?
No, I shall not agree with you, and you do not really believe what you are saying.
"Perhaps you are right for yourself," he added after a short pause, "but everyone lives in his own way.
"But that's just the same as myself--they are not others," explained Prince Andrew.
The others, one's neighbors, le prochain, as you and Princess Mary call it, are the chief source of all error and evil.
"You are joking," replied Pierre, growing more and more excited.
What evil and error are there in it, if people were dying of disease without help while material assistance could so easily be rendered, and I supplied them with a doctor, a hospital, and an asylum for the aged?
Others are being born and there are plenty of them as it is.
Then you are serving?
If they are beaten, flogged, or sent to Siberia, I don't suppose they are any the worse off.
In Siberia they lead the same animal life, and the stripes on their bodies heal, and they are happy as before.
Why are you silent?
But who are we?
On earth, here on this earth" (Pierre pointed to the fields), "there is no truth, all is false and evil; but in the universe, in the whole universe there is a kingdom of truth, and we who are now the children of earth are--eternally--children of the whole universe.
I feel that beyond me and above me there are spirits, and that in this world there is truth.
"Those are Mary's 'God's folk,'" said Prince Andrew.
"But what are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre.
"What are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre.
When I was in Kiev, Crazy Cyril says to me (he's one of God's own and goes barefoot summer and winter), he says, 'Why are you not going to the right place?
"Oh, master, what are you saying?" exclaimed the horrified Pelageya, turning to Princess Mary for support.
"You are very kind," she said to him.
"Ah, what a mad bweed you Wostovs are!" he muttered, and Rostov noticed tears in his eyes.
"Where are they off to now?" thought Rostov.
"So they are!" said the officers.
"Now, what are you pestewing me for?" cried Denisov, suddenly losing his temper.
But what are you shouting for?
There are four hundred?
How are you, how are you? he called out, still in the same voice as in the regiment, but Rostov noticed sadly that under this habitual ease and animation some new, sinister, hidden feeling showed itself in the expression of Denisov's face and the intonations of his voice.
"You are speaking of Buonaparte?" asked the general, smiling.
But if you are tired, come and lie down in my room and have a rest.
Are you an officer?
Where are you off to?
"We are not diplomatic officials, we are soldiers and nothing more," he went on.
If we are ordered to die, we must die.
Are you not weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud?
"But when are you coming to bed?" replied another voice.
You are proposing new military laws?
There are many laws but no one to carry out the old ones.
Who will plow the land if they are set free?
During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speranski more than once remarked: "We regard everything that is above the common level of rooted custom..." or, with a smile: "But we want the wolves to be fed and the sheep to be safe..." or: "They cannot understand this..." and all in a way that seemed to say: "We, you and I, understand what they are and who we are."
We are drowsing, but we must act.
But in these great endeavors we are gravely hampered by the political institutions of today.
We are very far from that.
My benefactor then explained to me fully the meaning of the Great Square of creation and pointed out to me that the numbers three and seven are the basis of everything.
The Trinity--the three elements of matter--are sulphur, mercury, and salt.
But on the contrary, my papa and mamma are now provided for--I have arranged that rent for them in the Baltic Provinces--and I can live in Petersburg on my pay, and with her fortune and my good management we can get along nicely.
Now the other sister, though they are the same family, is quite different-- an unpleasant character and has not the same intelligence.
"Nowadays old friends are not remembered," the countess would say when Boris was mentioned.
Natasha, you are sixteen.
What are you thinking about?
"There are some like ourselves and some worse," she thought.
But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even more run after.
All the same, the French are charming, very charming.
Such as she are rare here, he thought, as Natasha, readjusting a rose that was slipping on her bodice, settled herself beside him.
The Sovereign plainly said that the Council and Senate are estates of the realm, he said that the government must rest not on authority but on secure bases.
"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski.
You are so discerning, Prince, and understand people's characters so well at a glance.
"You are friendly with Boris, aren't you?" asked Vera.
Mamma, are you asleep?
And it had to happen that he should come specially to Petersburg while we are here.
What are those verses?
'Marriages are made in heaven,' said her mother.
I know you are glad for my sake.
Things are nice as it is, she said to herself, and she began walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on the resounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to the toe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to the regular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had to the sounds of her own voice.
Religion alone can explain to us what without its help man cannot comprehend: why, for what cause, kind and noble beings able to find happiness in life--not merely harming no one but necessary to the happiness of others--are called away to God, while cruel, useless, harmful persons, or such as are a burden to themselves and to others, are left living.
Then, at the moment of our loss, these thoughts could not occur to me; I should then have dismissed them with horror, but now they are very clear and certain.
Only one thing, no more women are wanted in my house--let him marry and live by himself.
An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we are idle.
Well, are you glad?
And are you very much in love?
"You are going?" asked Natasha.
"Yes, we are going," replied Nicholas reluctantly, for today, as he intended to hunt seriously, he did not want to take Natasha and Petya.
We are going, but only wolf hunting: it would be dull for you.
It's not fair; you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said nothing to us about it.
Take the covert at once, for my Girchik says the Ilagins are at Korniki with their hounds.
We are going too! shouted Petya.
He understands the matter so well that Daniel and I are often quite astounded, said Simon, well knowing what would please his master.
"They are on the scent of the cubs..." he whispered, "straight to the Lyadov uplands."
After the cry of the hounds came the deep tones of the wolf call from Daniel's hunting horn; the pack joined the first three hounds and they could be heard in full cry, with that peculiar lift in the note that indicates that they are after a wolf.
"Ah, but you are a crusty fellow, friend!" said the count.
Yours are worth thousands.
There are your thousand-ruble ones....
Anisya, go and see if the strings of my guitar are all right.
Yes, first I thought that we are driving along and imagining that we are going home, but that heaven knows where we are really going in the darkness, and that we shall arrive and suddenly find that we are not in Otradnoe, but in Fairyland.
"Ah, there are still lights in the drawing-room!" she said, pointing to the windows of the house that gleamed invitingly in the moist velvety darkness of the night.
"Why are you wandering about like an outcast?" asked her mother.
"Oh, you are there!" said Sonya with a start, and came near and listened.
Why are you sitting there like conspirators?
"Where are we?" thought he.
Are we getting to the Melyukovs'?
Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows what is happening to us--but it is very strange and pleasant whatever it is.
"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the strange, pretty, unfamiliar people--the one with fine eyebrows and mustache.
Oh, how strange you are with that mustache and those eyebrows!...
Natasha--are you glad?
So you are glad and I have done right?
Nicholas, you are talking nonsense!
He was enormously tall, handsome, amiable as Frenchmen are, and was, as all Moscow said, an extraordinarily clever doctor.
There in Petersburg they are always writing--not notes only but even new laws.
Nowadays they are always writing! and he laughed unnaturally.
The French are our Gods: Paris is our Kingdom of Heaven.
His words are music, I never tire of hearing him! said the old prince, keeping hold of the hand and offering his cheek to be kissed.
"Oh, my God, Count, there are moments when I would marry anybody!" she cried suddenly to her own surprise and with tears in her voice.
I was told they are coming soon.
"I hear they are expected very soon," said Pierre.
Now what are you dawdling for? she cried to the maids.
I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with me.
Don't judge by me: sleeves nowadays are this size!
When he comes, he'll find you already know his sister and father and are liked by them.
"They are talking about us, about me and him!" thought Natasha.
Now all the Moscow ladies are mad about him!
"And do you know, Countess," he said, suddenly addressing her as an old, familiar acquaintance, "we are getting up a costume tournament; you ought to take part in it!
* Are the pretty women.
You are enchanting... from the moment I saw you I have never ceased...
Is it my fault that you are enchanting?...
Only," she thought, "to tell Prince Andrew what has happened or to hide it from him are both equally impossible.
"Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?" said Sonya.
"But think what you are doing," cried Sonya.
If you tell, you are my enemy! declared Natasha.
And what are you saying!
So here are our accounts all settled, said Dolokhov, showing him the memorandum.
"When they are dead, what shall I drive?" said Balaga with a wink.
And when are we to start, your excellency?
I have heard what elopements are like, continued Dolokhov with a wink.
Ah, my revels here are over.
"Well, are you ready?" asked Balaga.
Who are you? asked Anatole in a breathless whisper.
Kindly step in, my orders are to bring you in.
Are you ill? asked the count.
"They are all alike!" he said to himself, reflecting that he was not the only man unfortunate enough to be tied to a bad woman.
"Yes, you are a great friend of Bolkonski's, no doubt she wants to send him a message," said the count.
"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife.
After all, you must understand that besides your pleasure there is such a thing as other people's happiness and peace, and that you are ruining a whole life for the sake of amusing yourself!
Amuse yourself with women like my wife--with them you are within your rights, for they know what you want of them.
They are armed against you by the same experience of debauchery; but to promise a maid to marry her... to deceive, to kidnap....
Well, how are you?
"Here are her letters and her portrait," said he.
Are we to take him up to her?
Millions of men perpetrated against one another such innumerable crimes, frauds, treacheries, thefts, forgeries, issues of false money, burglaries, incendiarisms, and murders as in whole centuries are not recorded in the annals of all the law courts of the world, but which those who committed them did not at the time regard as being crimes.
To us, their descendants, who are not historians and are not carried away by the process of research and can therefore regard the event with unclouded common sense, an incalculable number of causes present themselves.
We are forced to fall back on fatalism as an explanation of irrational events (that is to say, events the reasonableness of which we do not understand).
In historic events the so-called great men are labels giving names to events, and like labels they have but the smallest connection with the event itself.
So these are the steppes of Asia!
For the same reason they are always hard at work and in a hurry.
"Your Emperor's orders are obeyed in your army, but here," said Davout, "you must do as you're told."
"You are perfectly at liberty to treat me with respect or not," protested Balashev, "but permit me to observe that I have the honor to be adjutant general to His Majesty...."
You are flurried--compose yourself!
And you offer me negotiations when I have expended millions, when you are in alliance with England, and when your position is a bad one.
He evidently wanted to do all the talking himself, and continued to talk with the sort of eloquence and unrestrained irritability to which spoiled people are so prone.
They are neither fit for war nor peace!
And what are they doing, all these courtiers?
The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing and have shown it by making peace with you.
There are eighty thousand of them and they fight like lions.
How many inhabitants are there in Moscow?
How many churches are there in Moscow? he asked.
"The Russians are very devout," replied Balashev.
"I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned Balashev, "besides Russia there is Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries."
"Are the horses ready for the general?" he added, with a slight inclination of his head in reply to Balashev's bow.
Why do you say that, when you are going to this terrible war, and he is so old?
Men are His tools.
Men are His instruments, they are not to blame.
Already from his military experience and what he had seen in the Austrian campaign, he had come to the conclusion that in war the most deeply considered plans have no significance and that all depends on the way unexpected movements of the enemy--that cannot be foreseen--are met, and on how and by whom the whole matter is handled.
The only reasonable thing left to do is to conclude peace as soon as possible, before we are turned out of Petersburg.
The more mistakes that are made the better.
Go in there where they are meeting, and wait for me.
What theory and science is possible about a matter the conditions and circumstances of which are unknown and cannot be defined, especially when the strength of the acting forces cannot be ascertained?
Armfeldt says our army is cut in half, and Paulucci says we have got the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the worthlessness of the Drissa camp lies in having the river behind it, and Pfuel says that is what constitutes its strength; Toll proposes one plan, Armfeldt another, and they are all good and all bad, and the advantages of any suggestions can be seen only at the moment of trial.
It is only because military men are invested with pomp and power and crowds of sychophants flatter power, attributing to it qualities of genius it does not possess.
The success of a military action depends not on them, but on the man in the ranks who shouts, 'We are lost!' or who shouts, 'Hurrah!'
Rostov, where are you?
"Dear me, how jolly we are!" said Rostov laughing.
"So others are even more afraid than I am!" he thought.
After those involuntary words--that if he were free he would have asked on his knees for her hand and her love--uttered at a moment when she was so strongly agitated, Pierre never spoke to Natasha of his feelings; and it seemed plain to her that those words, which had then so comforted her, were spoken as all sorts of meaningless words are spoken to comfort a crying child.
This foe confounding Thy land, desiring to lay waste the whole world, rises against us; these lawless men are gathered together to overthrow Thy kingdom, to destroy Thy dear Jerusalem, Thy beloved Russia; to defile Thy temples, to overthrow Thine altars, and to desecrate our holy shrines.
You don't know how important you are to me, how much you've done for me....
The Emperor is to be here tomorrow... there's to be an Extraordinary Meeting of the nobility, and they are talking of a levy of ten men per thousand.
We are again retreating.
"People are being arrested..." said the count.
Why are you going?
Why are you upset? asked Natasha, and she looked challengingly into Pierre's eyes.
What are you shoving for, young lordling?
What are you up to?
The people are still hoping to see Your Majesty again.
"I think that before discussing these questions," Pierre continued, "we should ask the Emperor--most respectfully ask His Majesty--to let us know the number of our troops and the position in which our army and our forces now are, and then..."
The troops are moved according to the enemy's movements and the number of men increases and decreases...
But all these hints at what happened, both from the French side and the Russian, are advanced only because they fit in with the event.
All the facts are in flat contradiction to such conjectures.
Headquarters are so full of Germans that a Russian cannot exist and there is no sense in anything.
The princesses Aline and Sophie sit whole days with me, and we, unhappy widows of live men, make beautiful conversations over our 'charpie', only you, my friend, are missing... and so on.
The French at Vitebsk, in four days' march they may be at Smolensk; perhaps are already there!
"Why are they leaving the town?" asked Alpatych.
And the peasants are asking three rubles for carting--it isn't Christian!
What sort of governors are they to do that?
They've brought things to such a pass that there are no carts or anything!...
"What are you staring at?" he shouted to the cook, who in her red skirt, with sleeves rolled up, swinging her bare elbows, had stepped to the corner to listen to what was being said.
"Scoundrel, what are you doing?" shouted the innkeeper, rushing to the cook.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Are we really lost?
Why are you here?
"Are we really quite lost, your excellency?" he asked again.
"You are a colonel?" shouted the chief of staff with a German accent, in a voice familiar to Prince Andrew.
Houses are set on fire in your presence and you stand by!
Well, and what are you going to do?
Our troops fought, and are fighting, as never before.
There is a rumor that you are thinking of peace.
If it has come to this--we must fight as long as Russia can and as long as there are men able to stand...
Tell me, for God's sake, what will Russia, our mother Russia, say to our being so frightened, and why are we abandoning our good and gallant Fatherland to such rabble and implanting feelings of hatred and shame in all our subjects?
What are we scared at and of whom are we afraid?
All dissensions are at an end!
You are a Cossack?
The doctor thought he had guessed them, and inquiringly repeated: "Mary, are you afraid?"
Why are these people with frightened faces stopping me?
And what are they doing here? she thought.
Dron was one of those physically and mentally vigorous peasants who grow big beards as soon as they are of age and go on unchanged till they are sixty or seventy, without a gray hair or the loss of a tooth, as straight and strong at sixty as at thirty.
What are you thinking of, eh?
"Are they drinking?" he asked abruptly.
"You know, chere Marie," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "that we are in danger--are surrounded by the French.
If we go we are almost sure to be taken prisoners, and God knows...
"We are all in God's hands," said he, with a sigh.
He looked askance at Princess Mary and said: "There are no horses; I told Yakov Alpatych so."
"Why are there none?" asked the princess.
The peasants are ruined?
"We are all very thankful for your bounty, but it won't do for us to take the landlord's grain," said a voice at the back of the crowd.
We are sorry for you, but we're not willing.
"Then you are Russians?" the peasant asked again.
What gentleness and nobility there are in her features and expression! thought he as he looked at her and listened to her timid story.
The peasants are rioting, and you can't manage them?
What does it matter to you whether our homes are ruined or not?
Are you the Elder?
So you are Pwince Andwew Bolkonski?
"What?" said Kutuzov, in the midst of Denisov's explanations, "are you ready so soon?"
"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril Andreevich Denisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him.
"Well, my dear, and how are we getting on?" he asked, moving to the door of the room assigned to him.
It's not here that men are needed.
Advisers are always plentiful, but men are not.
The regiments would not be what they are if the would-be advisers served there as you do.
For that, not storming and attacking but patience and time are wanted.
They are all dwarfs and one peasant woman will toss three of them with a hayfork.
"I hear that their affairs are in a very bad way," said Julie.
Then why are you leaving?
"They are waiting for their younger son," Pierre replied.
But now they have had him transferred to my regiment and are expecting him every day.
You know, Count, such knights as you are only found in Madame de Souza's novels.
Everyone has left Moscow and the people are rioting.
How is it that we are staying on?
Barbara Ivanovna told me today how our troops are distinguishing themselves.
And the people too are quite mutinous--they no longer obey, even my maid has taken to being rude.
But, above all, the French will be here any day now, so what are we waiting for?
"Where are you going?" shouted Pierre to the man, who was driving to Lubyanka Street.
The ancients have left us model heroic poems in which the heroes furnish the whole interest of the story, and we are still unable to accustom ourselves to the fact that for our epoch histories of that kind are meaningless.
On the twenty-fourth, we are told, Napoleon attacked this advanced post and took it, and, on the twenty-sixth, attacked the whole Russian army, which was in position on the field of Borodino.
They may die tomorrow; why are they thinking of anything but death?
Yet from among these men twenty thousand are doomed to die, and they wonder at my hat!
Are those our men there?
"Yes, and there, further on, are the French," said the officer.
There they are, there... you can see them.
Ah, those are the French!
You see down there where the rows of hay are lying in the hollow, there's the bridge.
And you, are you one of the doctors?
There they are... bringing her, coming...
They are bringing her, our Protectress!...
We are just going to the left flank.
Those are his quarters, and he pointed to the third house in the village of Gorki.
"What are you saying about the militia?" he asked Boris.
My quarters are at your service.
There they are, those rudely painted figures that once seemed splendid and mysterious.
In Moscow they are saying heaven knows what about him....
The French have destroyed my home and are on their way to destroy Moscow, they have outraged and are outraging me every moment.
They are my enemies.
In my opinion they are all criminals.
Such magnanimity and sensibility are like the magnanimity and sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: she is so kindhearted that she can't look at blood, but enjoys eating the calf served up with sauce.
What are the habits of the military?
The habits of the military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline, idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness.
They are forcing us to exterminate them.
You are fond of travel, and in three days you will see Moscow.
The cannonade on the left flank will begin as soon as the guns of the right wing are heard.
The dispositions cited above are not at all worse, but are even better, than previous dispositions by which he had won victories.
The chessmen are set up, the game will begin tomorrow!
But the Guards, Rapp, the Guards are intact? he remarked interrogatively.
"Are you afraid, then?" said Pierre.
"Are you bowing to a friend, eh?" remarked another, chaffing a peasant who ducked low as a cannon ball flew over.
Are we to continue firing? he asked.
What are they doing? shouted the officer, turning to Pierre.
"You are very fiery, Belliard," said Napoleon, when he again came up to the general.
"All the points of our position are in the enemy's hands and we cannot dislodge them for lack of troops, the men are running away and it is impossible to stop them," he reported.
The troops are in complete disorder...
They are repulsed everywhere, for which I thank God and our brave army!
What are you waiting for?
"It seems that even in the next world only the gentry are to have a chance!" remarked one.
What are you waiting for? he cried angrily to the dressers.
What are you doing?
Men leave their customary pursuits, hasten from one side of Europe to the other, plunder and slaughter one another, triumph and are plunged in despair, and for some years the whole course of life is altered and presents an intensive movement which first increases and then slackens.
The peasants say that a cold wind blows in late spring because the oaks are budding, and really every spring cold winds do blow when the oak is budding.
To study the laws of history we must completely change the subject of our observation, must leave aside kings, ministers, and generals, and study the common, infinitesimally small elements by which the masses are moved.
For people accustomed to think that plans of campaign and battles are made by generals--as any one of us sitting over a map in his study may imagine how he would have arranged things in this or that battle--the questions present themselves: Why did Kutuzov during the retreat not do this or that?
"Give me your hand," said he and, turning it over so as to feel the pulse, added: "You are not well, my dear fellow.
Think what you are saying!
"It is disgraceful to run away from danger; only cowards are running away from Moscow," they were told.
"You are not taking me unawares, you know," said he.
"And who may you be?" one of them suddenly asked Pierre, evidently meaning what Pierre himself had in mind, namely: "If you want to eat we'll give you some food, only let us know whether you are an honest man."
By rights I am a militia officer, but my men are not here.
How is it you are on foot?
And where are you going, please?
And they are simple.
If they're sent out and brought back again later on it will do no harm, but as things are now one can't answer for anything.
And I will knock the nonsense out of anybody"-- but probably realizing that he was shouting at Bezukhov who so far was not guilty of anything, he added, taking Pierre's hand in a friendly manner, "We are on the eve of a public disaster and I haven't time to be polite to everybody who has business with me.
Well, mon cher, what are you doing personally?
You would be more comfortable somewhere in a house... in ours, for instance... the family are leaving.
Are you asleep, Mamma?
The club is closed and the police are leaving.
The masters are going away and the whole house will be empty, said the old woman to the old attendant.
Are you staying in my house?
What are your orders about the pictures?
After all, ours are things that can be bought but think what being left behind means to them!...
Really now, in our own yard--we asked them in ourselves and there are officers among them....
It's only we who are such fools.
"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed him into her mother's room.
But in general I can tell you, Papa, that such a heroic spirit, the truly antique valor of the Russian army, which they--which it" (he corrected himself) "has shown or displayed in the battle of the twenty-sixth-- there are no words worthy to do it justice!
Yes, Mamma, I tell you sincerely that these are hard and sad times for every Russian.
But why are you so anxious?
"I can't think what the servants are about," said the countess, turning to her husband.
Yes, these are very hard times! said Berg.
Are we despicable Germans?
"The eggs... the eggs are teaching the hen," muttered the count through tears of joy, and he embraced his wife who was glad to hide her look of shame on his breast.
"The ways of God are past finding out!" she thought, feeling that the Almighty Hand, hitherto unseen, was becoming manifest in all that was now taking place.
What are you doing?
Why are you like this?
Are you remaining in Moscow, then?
You are not like yourself....
There are no longer sentinels sounding the alarm with their abdomens raised, and ready to die in defense of the hive.
In another corner two old bees are languidly fighting, or cleaning themselves, or feeding one another, without themselves knowing whether they do it with friendly or hostile intent.
Only a few of them still move, rise, and feebly fly to settle on the enemy's hand, lacking the spirit to die stinging him; the rest are dead and fall as lightly as fish scales.
Where are you off to?...
"But how are you going to stop them?" replied another officer.
They are stuck there, wedged on the bridge, and don't move.
We won't grudge trifles, you are welcome to anything--we shall be delighted!
And who are you?
As you see" (he glanced with an amused air and good-natured smile at his coat and boots) "my things are worn out and I have no money, so I was going to ask the count..."
Where are all the folks going?
Look what folks are saying.
You'd better listen to what people are saying, said some of the mob pointing to the tall youth.
An ukase, they are reading an ukase!
"What people are these?" he shouted to the men, who were moving singly and timidly in the direction of his trap.
"What people are these?" he shouted again, receiving no answer.
What are your orders about the Fire Brigade?
Now why are you asking silly questions about the Fire Brigade?
Your excellency, the superintendent of the lunatic asylum has come: what are your commands?
Your excellency, there are some political prisoners, Meshkov, Vereshchagin...
What are your orders about Vereshchagin?
The people are like wild beasts!
Where are you going?...
They are like wolves whom nothing but flesh can appease.
Many other victims have perished and are perishing for the public good--and he began thinking of his social duties to his family and to the city entrusted to him, and of himself--not himself as Theodore Vasilyevich Rostopchin (he fancied that Theodore Vasilyevich Rostopchin was sacrificing himself for the public good) but himself as governor, the representative of authority and of the Tsar.
As soon as the men of the various regiments began to disperse among the wealthy and deserted houses, the army was lost forever and there came into being something nondescript, neither citizens nor soldiers but what are known as marauders.
How much then must the probability of fire be increased in an abandoned, wooden town where foreign troops are quartered.
When, having bought the coat merely with the object of taking part among the people in the defense of Moscow, Pierre had met the Rostovs and Natasha had said to him: Are you remaining in Moscow?...
* "Are you the master here?"
The French are good fellows.
"You are not wounded?" he asked.
"We French are merciful after victory, but we do not pardon traitors," he added, with a look of gloomy dignity and a fine energetic gesture.
You are French, said he.
Well, and what are we to do with this man? he added, addressing himself to Pierre as to a brother.
"You will be called in when you are wanted," he said.
You are an officer... a superior officer perhaps.
You are certainly brave foes.
So you are one of us soldiers! he added, smiling, after a momentary pause.
Terrible in battle... gallant... with the fair" (he winked and smiled), "that's what the French are, Monsieur Pierre, aren't they?"
To return to your ladies--I hear they are lovely.
We are feared, but we are loved.
We are nice to know.
What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?...
You are trembling all over.
Sonya, are you asleep?
We must be human, we are all mortal you know! and the Frenchman with the spot on his cheek ran back to his comrades.
"Who are you?" asked the interpreter in poor Russian.
"Where are they taking you to, you poor dear?" said she.
"They say that the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angina..." and the word angina was repeated with great satisfaction.
"You are speaking of the poor countess?" said Anna Pavlovna, coming up just then.
"Sire," he said, with respectful playfulness, "they are only afraid lest Your Majesty, in the goodness of your heart, should allow yourself to be persuaded to make peace.
They are burning for the combat," declared this representative of the Russian nation, "and to prove to Your Majesty by the sacrifice of their lives how devoted they are...."
If he tries to realize it his efforts are fruitless.
You are Count Ilya Rostov's son?
We are at home on Thursdays--today is Thursday, so please come and see us quite informally, said the governor, taking leave of him.
Her eyes" (Nicholas looked at his partner) "are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure" (he glanced at her shoulders) "like Diana's...."
But, my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, the blonde.
"Oh no, we are good friends with him," said Nicholas in the simplicity of his heart; it did not enter his head that a pastime so pleasant to himself might not be pleasant to someone else.
You know Sonya has nothing and you yourself say your Papa's affairs are in a very bad way.
"What a matchmaker you are, Aunt..." said Nicholas, kissing her plump little hand.
When a pause occurred during his short visit, Nicholas, as is usual when there are children, turned to Prince Andrew's little son, caressing him and asking whether he would like to be an hussar.
Natasha, what are you about?
What proof have I that you are not lying?
"How can you show me that you are telling the truth?" said Davout coldly.
"You are not what you say," returned Davout.
They are all suffering as I am.
We had soup for dinner and the potatoes are grand!
"Well, are they all right?" said the soldier with a smile.
"The potatoes are grand!" he said once more.
Why, are you a soldier then?
Yes, we are soldiers of the Apsheron regiment.
And your old parents, are they still living? he asked.
I come home on leave and I'll tell you how it was, I look and see that they are living better than before.
Father, he says, 'All my children are the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten.
But we are always judging, 'that's not well--that's not right!'
And indeed he only had to lie down, to fall asleep like a stone, and he only had to shake himself, to be ready without a moment's delay for some work, just as children are ready to play directly they awake.
"I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostovs are staying at the merchant Bronnikov's house, in the Square not far from here, right above the Volga," said the courier.
And his cold, stern look replied: "Because you are alive and thinking of the living, while I..."
How are you, Mary?
"How are you now?" said Princess Mary, herself surprised at what she was saying.
They can't understand that all those feelings they prize so--all our feelings, all those ideas that seem so important to us, are unnecessary.
You are not asleep?
But there are laws directing events, and some of these laws are known to us while we are conscious of others we cannot comprehend.
In view of all this information, when the enemy has scattered his forces in large detachments, and with Napoleon and his Guards in Moscow, is it possible that the enemy's forces confronting you are so considerable as not to allow of your taking the offensive?
If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you are asking for.
What sort of another blackguard are you?
"The word attack is always on your tongue, but you don't see that we are unable to execute complicated maneuvers," said he to Miloradovich who asked permission to advance.
They are asking to attack and making plans of all kinds, but as soon as one gets to business nothing is ready, and the enemy, forewarned, takes measures accordingly.
But people who talk like that either do not know what they are talking about or deliberately deceive themselves.
Your misfortunes are cruel, but His Majesty the Emperor and King desires to arrest their course.
Several churches of different denominations are open, and divine service is performed in them unhindered.
These are the measures the government has adopted to re- establish order and relieve your condition.
Your fellow countrymen are emerging boldly from their hiding places on finding that they are respected.
And lastly you too, peasants, come from the forests where you are hiding in terror, return to your huts without fear, in full assurance that you will find protection!
Markets are established in the city where peasants can bring their surplus supplies and the products of the soil.
(3) Sunday and Wednesday of each week are appointed as the chief market days and to that end a sufficient number of troops will be stationed along the highroads on Tuesdays and Saturdays at such distances from the town as to protect the carts.
Nothing new, except that the soldiers are robbing and pillaging-- October 9.
But give me the pieces that are over.
You know, Sokolov, they are not all going away!
"What are you disputing about?" said the major angrily.
What are you pushing for?
Look there, those are furs! they exclaimed.
Why, those are settings taken from some icons, by heaven!...
My orders are to give it at once to the general on duty.
Patience and time are my warriors, my champions, thought Kutuzov.
It will fall of itself when ripe, but if picked unripe the apple is spoiled, the tree is harmed, and your teeth are set on edge.
They are like children from whom one can't get any sensible account of what has happened because they all want to show how well they can fight.
But the contingencies are endless.
And the impulses felt by a single person are always magnified in a crowd.
Infantry regiments, we are told, advanced to the attack with music and with drums beating, and killed and lost thousands of men.
* Large battalions are always victorious.
That unknown quantity is the spirit of the army, that is to say, the greater or lesser readiness to fight and face danger felt by all the men composing an army, quite independently of whether they are, or are not, fighting under the command of a genius, in two--or three-line formation, with cudgels or with rifles that repeat thirty times a minute.
There are two, an officer and a Cossack.
So I went for them with my ax, this way: 'What are you up to?' says I.
"You are a bwute!" said Denisov.
'There are a lot of us,' he says, 'but all poor stuff--only soldiers in name,' he says.
"But why are you angry?" remonstrated Tikhon, "just as if I'd never seen your Frenchmen!
Or perhaps your flints are giving out, or are worn out--that happens sometimes, you know.
I have brought some with me, here they are"--and he showed a bag--"a hundred flints.
But we must know what troops they are and their numbers, said Dolokhov.
Because you are sorry for him!
Well, are you coming with me? he asked Petya.
For you'll admit that if we don't know for sure how many of them there are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are only two of us.
"Those brigands are everywhere," replied an officer from behind the fire.
"Really!" he cried, "you are such a hero!
Are the lads asleep? asked Petya.
Some are, and some aren't--like us.
"What are you sharpening?" asked a man coming up to the wagon.
"Well, how are you?" he asked.
Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we are, with the old man among them.
So they asked the old man: 'What are you being punished for, Daddy?'--'I, my dear brothers,' said he, 'am being punished for my own and other men's sins.
'You are perishing because of me, Daddy,' he says.
And the old man said, 'God will forgive you, we are all sinners in His sight.
They are almost disbanded.
The soldiers, who are worn out with hunger and fatigue, need these supplies as well as a few days' rest.
Similarly profound considerations are given for his retreat from Smolensk to Orsha.
Then we are told of the greatness of soul of the marshals, especially of Ney--a greatness of soul consisting in this: that he made his way by night around through the forest and across the Dnieper and escaped to Orsha, abandoning standards, artillery, and nine tenths of his men.
For us with the standard of good and evil given us by Christ, no human actions are incommensurable.
And there is no greatness where simplicity, goodness, and truth are absent.
His lips are firmly closed, his eyes glitter, and a wrinkle comes and goes on his pale forehead.
What are you saying...
You are tired--try to sleep.
Not merely in these cases but continually did that old man--who by experience of life had reached the conviction that thoughts and the words serving as their expression are not what move people--use quite meaningless words that happened to enter his head.
It is hard for you, but still you are at home while they--you see what they have come to, said he, pointing to the prisoners.
They are human beings too.
Where are you shoving to?
What are you stopping for?
"What are you up to?" suddenly came the authoritative voice of a sergeant major who came upon the men who were hauling their burden.
"There are gentry here; the general himself is in that hut, and you foul-mouthed devils, you brutes, I'll give it to you!" shouted he, hitting the first man who came in his way a swinging blow on the back.
Are you lost or have the wolves eaten you?
What a fellow you are for dancing!
Yes, it's all very well, but when a man's feet are frozen how can he walk?
"But they're a clean folk, lads," the first man went on; "he was white-- as white as birchbark--and some of them are such fine fellows, you might think they were nobles."
'But,' he says, 'go up to ours and they are all rotten and maggoty.
What are you pushing for?
Why talk rubbish, lout that you are--a real peasant! came rebukes from all sides addressed to the jesting soldier.
"They are men too," said one of them as he wrapped himself up in his coat.
"If all Russians are in the least like you, it is sacrilege to fight such a nation," he said to Pierre.
"You are letting yourself go, my dear fellow," he said.
And perhaps they are both impostors?
And are you building?
When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other is no longer alive.
We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins.
They say men are friends when they are quite different.
So what are your orders?
Are you starting tomorrow? asked Savelich.
It would be a very good thing for the Rostovs, they are said to be utterly ruined.
"How kind they all are," thought Pierre.
"So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?" she asked.
You are right that to speak to her of love at present...
Then why are you crying?
But the mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate.
Even if they do not know for what purpose they are fattened, they will at least know that all that happened to the ram did not happen accidentally, and will no longer need the conceptions of chance or genius.
His attempts to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes to nothing.
Impregnable Malta surrenders without a shot; his most reckless schemes are crowned with success.
In Africa a whole series of outrages are committed against the almost unarmed inhabitants.
But the once proud and shrewd rulers of France, feeling that their part is played out, are even more bewildered than he, and do not say the words they should have said to destroy him and retain their power.
Not only is he great, but so are his ancestors, his brothers, his stepsons, and his brothers-in-law.
And when he is ready so too are the forces.
The invaders flee, turn back, flee again, and all the chances are now not for Napoleon but always against him.
The Napoleonic government and army are destroyed.
Napoleon himself is no longer of any account; all his actions are evidently pitiful and mean, but again an inexplicable chance occurs.
The man who ten years before and a year later was considered an outlawed brigand is sent to an island two days' sail from France, which for some reason is presented to him as his dominion, and guards are given to him and millions of money are paid him.
She had all that people are valued for, but little that could have made him love her.
One day you are dull, and the next you refuse to see anyone.
Are you going already, Count?
"There are a thousand reasons why," laying special emphasis on the why.
And to do that, order and strictness are essential....
You have no idea how unhappy, how lonely, I feel when you are like that.
It is only Malvinas and women of that kind who are loved for their beauty.
You are too fond of this one, his wife whispered in French.
Discussions and questions of that kind, which are like the question of how to get the greatest gratification from one's dinner, did not then and do not now exist for those for whom the purpose of a dinner is the nourishment it affords; and the purpose of marriage is the family.
If the purpose of food is nourishment and the purpose of marriage is the family, the whole question resolves itself into not eating more than one can digest, and not having more wives or husbands than are needed for the family--that is, one wife or one husband.
That creature said: You are angry, you are jealous, you would like to pay him out, you are afraid--but here am I!
You are pleased, you've had a good time....
What are we to do with her?
She is like a mad woman when you are away.
What are you saying about the government?
"Arakcheev and Golitsyn," incautiously remarked Pierre, "are now the whole government!
They see treason everywhere and are afraid of everything.
But I mustn't go there-- those stockings are to be a surprise for me.
"When you are here he can't tear himself away," she said.
Everybody sees that things are going so badly that they cannot be allowed to go on so and that it is the duty of all decent men to counteract it as far as they can.
Why are you here?
No independent men, such as you or I, are left.
But you also say that our oath of allegiance is a conditional matter, and to that I reply: 'You are my best friend, as you know, but if you formed a secret society and began working against the government- -be it what it may--I know it is my duty to obey the government.
What are you writing, Mary?
All that the fondest mother could do for her son you have done and are doing for him, and of course I am glad of it.
And then there are you and the children and our affairs.
"You know, Mary, today Elias Mitrofanych" (this was his overseer) "came back from the Tambov estate and told me they are already offering eighty thousand rubles for the forest."
So you say ideas are an amusement to him....
You are as like him as two peas--like the boy.
I only wished to say that ideas that have great results are always simple ones.
My whole idea is that if vicious people are united and constitute a power, then honest folk must do the same.
"Are you ill?" he heard Dessalles' voice asking.
It would seem that having rejected the belief of the ancients in man's subjection to the Deity and in a predetermined aim toward which nations are led, modern history should study not the manifestations of power but the causes that produce it.
These are the instinctive, plain, and most legitimate questions humanity asks itself when it encounters the monuments and tradition of that period.
The answers given by this kind of historian to the question of what force causes events to happen are satisfactory only as long as there is but one historian to each event.
Not only does it occur at every step, but the universal historians' accounts are all made up of a chain of such contradictions.
This condition is never observed by the universal historians, and so to explain the resultant forces they are obliged to admit, in addition to the insufficient components, another unexplained force affecting the resultant action.
The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that such and such people wrote such and such books?
But not to speak of the intrinsic quality of histories of this kind (which may possibly even be of use to someone for something) the histories of culture, to which all general histories tend more and more to approximate, are significant from the fact that after seriously and minutely examining various religious, philosophic, and political doctrines as causes of events, as soon as they have to describe an actual historic event such as the campaign of 1812 for instance, they involuntarily describe it as resulting from an exercise of power--and say plainly that that was the result of Napoleon's will.
Only then, as a result of the contradiction, will they see that they are both wrong.
The biographies and special national histories are like paper money.
We are so accustomed to that idea and have become so used to it that the question: why did six hundred thousand men go to fight when Napoleon uttered certain words, seems to us senseless.
To these questions three answers are possible:
And these are the three ways in which the historians do explain the relation of the people to their rulers.
If the conditions under which power is entrusted consist in the wealth, freedom, and enlightenment of the people, how is it that Louis XIV and Ivan the Terrible end their reigns tranquilly, while Louis XVI and Charles I are executed by their people?
To these questions there are and can be no answers.
And so these historians also see and admit historical events which are exceptions to the theory.
Historians of the third class assume that the will of the people is transferred to historic personages conditionally, but that the conditions are unknown to us.
The most usual generalizations adopted by almost all the historians are: freedom, equality, enlightenment, progress, civilization, and culture.
(With this method of observation it often happens that the observer, influenced by the direction he himself prefers, regards those as leaders who, owing to the people's change of direction, are no longer in front, but on one side, or even in the rear.)
If the animals in front are continually changing and the direction of the whole herd is constantly altered, this is because in order to follow a given direction the animals transfer their will to the animals that have attracted our attention, and to study the movements of the herd we must watch the movements of all the prominent animals moving on all sides of the herd.
On the other hand, even if we admitted that words could be the cause of events, history shows that the expression of the will of historical personages does not in most cases produce any effect, that is to say, their commands are often not executed, and sometimes the very opposite of what they order occurs.
But speaking of commands that are the expression of the will of men acting in time and in relation to one another, to explain the connection of commands with events we must restore: (1) the condition of all that takes place: the continuity of movement in time both of the events and of the person who commands, and (2) the inevitability of the connection between the person commanding and those who execute his command.
Only the possible ones get linked up with a consecutive series of commands corresponding to a series of events, and are executed.
Every army is composed of lower grades of the service--the rank and file--of whom there are always the greatest number; of the next higher military rank--corporals and noncommissioned officers of whom there are fewer, and of still-higher officers of whom there are still fewer, and so on to the highest military command which is concentrated in one person.
The soldiers, of whom there are the most, form the lower section of the cone and its base.
The noncommissioned officers (of whom there are fewer) perform the action itself less frequently than the soldiers, but they already give commands.
Men are hauling a log.
History shows us that these justifications of the events have no common sense and are all contradictory, as in the case of killing a man as the result of recognizing his rights, and the killing of millions in Russia for the humiliation of England.
These temporary aims are like the broom fixed in front of a locomotive to clear the snow from the rails in front: they clear men's moral responsibilities from their path.
Or in other words, the conception of a cause is inapplicable to the phenomena we are examining.
All the contradictions and obscurities of history and the false path historical science has followed are due solely to the lack of a solution of that question.
But regarding him from within ourselves as what we are conscious of, we feel ourselves to be free.
He could not live, because all man's efforts, all his impulses to life, are only efforts to increase freedom.
The actions of men are subject to general immutable laws expressed in statistics.
To solve the question of how freedom and necessity are combined and what constitutes the essence of these two conceptions, the philosophy of history can and should follow a path contrary to that taken by other sciences.
It is the reason why the life and activity of people who lived centuries ago and are connected with me in time cannot seem to me as free as the life of a contemporary, the consequences of which are still unknown to me.
If we examine a man little dependent on external conditions, whose action was performed very recently, and the causes of whose action are beyond our ken, we get the conception of a minimum of inevitability and a maximum of freedom.
But besides this, even if, admitting the remaining minimum of freedom to equal zero, we assumed in some given case--as for instance in that of a dying man, an unborn babe, or an idiot--complete absence of freedom, by so doing we should destroy the very conception of man in the case we are examining, for as soon as there is no freedom there is also no man.
If there is even a single body moving freely, then the laws of Kepler and Newton are negatived and no conception of the movement of the heavenly bodies any longer exists.
The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the more evident are the laws of that movement.
Are you down here taking inventory or doing a lot of thinking?
What are you going to hide from me that I haven't already seen?
"Are you afraid of getting fired?" she asked with a grin.
Just about time I think the two of you are making progress, something like this comes up.
You always look neat and clean - even if you are a little out of style.
You are the sweetest boy in the world.
Are you sure you don't want me to take her?
You are a lady.
Then we will all go down together and Maria can get acquainted with her while you are measured for a dress.
The kids are asleep and we're alone.
Your eyes... they are so unusual.
So I say the horses and chickens are mine and Alex says the other animals are his.
You are not late.
You are not impressed?
We are somewhere in the middle of the earth, and the chances are we'll reach the other side of it before long.
Just as good a Wizard as you are a Sorcerer.
"What are you going to do with us?" asked Zeb.
"You don't need milk, Eureka," remarked Dorothy; "you are big enough now to eat any kind of food."
"I should say so!" grunted another of the piglets, looking uneasily at the kitten; "cats are cruel things."
"You cannot eat my piglets, even if you are starving," declared the little man, in a stern voice.
"I have an idea," said the Wizard, "that there are fishes in these brooks.
The only bait he could find was a bright red blossom from a flower; but he knew fishes are easy to fool if anything bright attracts their attention, so he decided to try the blossom.
Those colored suns are exactly in the same place they were when we came, and if there is no sunset there can be no night.
But in the basket-car are some things I would like to keep with me.
"Are you hungry?" asked the woman's voice.
They are too young to fly, and the mother bird is making a great fuss about it.
Many of his poems are still read and loved by children as well as by grown up men and women.
Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.
These children are learning it just as the first people who lived on the earth learned it in the beginning.
In a wonderful book, called "The Arabian Nights," there are many interesting stories about him.
Some of the king's soldiers are going to Concord to get the powder that is there.
There are the people who hope the future will be better.
But the five phenomena I chose to tackle in this book are among the great blights on humanity that I believe the Internet and technology will help solve.
Bad science fiction plots, speculating on futures which could not really happen, are the worst examples of this.
These are easy to spot: They rely on huge conceptual leaps without a framework to support them.
Many incidents of those early years are fixed in my memory, isolated, but clear and distinct, making the sense of that silent, aimless, dayless life all the more intense.
Now, if words and images come to me without effort, it is a pretty sure sign that they are not the offspring of my own mind, but stray waifs that I regretfully dismiss.
I represent my teacher as saying to me of the golden autumn leaves, "Yes, they are beautiful enough to comfort us for the flight of summer"--an idea direct from Miss Canby's story.
Perhaps these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students.
But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist--I really believe he is Antichrist--I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself!
I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome.
Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.
Now then, what are you thinking of? she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte.
Gentlemen, you are crushing me!...
Seeing the position we are in, I think there is little need for discussion.
Folks are leaving the town, but you have come to it, said he.
Are you opposed to a break now and then?
Are you guys ready to eat and go outside?
What are you going to fix?
"But where are the people?" asked Dorothy.
"Where are they?" asked Dorothy, in astonishment.
Are you trying to protect me?
Are you just getting back?
Whether you are rich or poor, live in the developed world or the developing world, life today is better and easier than it was a century ago by virtually any measure.
In historical works on the year 1812 French writers are very fond of saying that Napoleon felt the danger of extending his line, that he sought a battle and that his marshals advised him to stop at Smolensk, and of making similar statements to show that the danger of the campaign was even then understood.
But you're still not comfortable with the decision, are you?
Why are you always blaming me?
The men are as guilty as she is.
We are Russians and will not grudge our blood in defense of our faith, the throne, and the Fatherland!