VERUS COMES
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Feb 17, 2012, 11:20:32 AM2/17/12
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__ \_*_/
__ _\_/
__ * - X * Edward de Vere, Erle of Oxenford was buryed
__ _/_\ __________ the 6th daye of Julye Å 1604
__ _/ *_\ ____________ [ *St. Godelieve's day* ]
.
<<The strange, large 'X' type symbol appears to have been put there
much later. According to Paul Altrocchi, this must have happened a
many decades later "...since pencils with such a sharp point did
not appear until the late 1600's." It really is anybody's guess
who put it there - perhaps an over-enthusiastic Oxfordian?>>
.
- _The Death of Edward de Vere_ by Michael Llewellyn
...........................................................
THE CREST OF *JOHANN VALENTIN ANDREÆ*.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/eso/sta/img/14000.jpg
....................................................
<<The reference to four red roses & a white cross in
the Chymical Marriage of Christian Rosencreutz identified
Johann Valentin Andreæ as its author, for his family crest,
shown above, consisted of four red roses & a white cross.>>
........................................................
1616 *JOHANN VALENTIN ANDREÆ's* Rosicrucian manifesto:
. _The Chemical Wedding of Christian *ROSEN-KREUZ* 1459_
.
1616 Shakespeare wills Anne second best bed.
1616 Cervantes & Shakespeare die on St.George's Day.
1616 1000th anniversary of Ethelbert(/bard?)'s death.
1616 Jupiter returns the "Serpent's foot"
1616 Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (V2) published
---------------------------------------------------------
. . Rosicrucians. . Freemasons
. . Rosy Cross[the Craft] Stone Guild
.................................................
. Q1. *ROSsenCRAFT*. . *GuilderSTONE*
. Q2. ROSencrans. . Guyldensterne
. F1. ROSincrane. . Guildensterne
. F2,3,4 *ROSinCROSSe* . . Guildenstare
---------------------------------------------------
The Fama Fraternitatis presented the legend of
a German doctor & mystic philosopher referred to as
"Frater C.R.C." (later identified in a 3rd manifesto
as Christian [ROSENKR]euz, or {ROSE}-[CROSS]).
Robinson Crusoe (corrupted from the
German name "Kreutznaer" or "Kreutznär")
------------------------------------------------
. _Robinson Crusoe_ (~480,000 letters)
.
<<I enclosed five several pieces of ground to feed them in, with
little *PENS* to d[R]ive them to take them as I wanted, and gates
out [O]f one piece of ground into another. But this wa[S] not all;
for now I not only had goat’s flesh to fe[E]d on when I pleased,
but milk too— a thing which, i[N]deed, in the beginning, I did not
so much as thin[K] of, and which, when it came into my thoughts,
was [R]eally an agreeable surprise, for now I set up my dairy,
and had sometimes a gallon or two of milk in a day.>>
...............................................
with little *PENS* to <= 38 =>
. d [R] ivethemtotakethemasIwantedandgatesou
. t [O] fonepieceofgroundintoanotherButthisw
. a [S] notallfornowInotonlyhadgoatsfleshtof
. e [E] donwhenIpleasedbutmilktooathingwhich
. i [N] deedinthebeginningIdidnotsomuchasthi
. n [K] ofandwhichwhenitcameintomythoughtswa
. s [R] eallyanagreeablesurprise
[ROSENKR] 38 {1 in 27}
-------------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville (~925,000 letters)
CHAPTER 109 Ahab and Starbuck in the Cabin
.
With his snow-white new ivory leg braced against the screwed
leg of his table, and with a long pruning-hook of a jack-knife
in his hand, the wond[R]ous old man, with his back to the
gangway d[O]or, was wrinkling his brow, and tracing hi[S]
old courses again.
.
“Who’s there?” hearing th[E] footstep at the door,
but not turning rou[N]d to it. “On deck! Begone!”
.
“Captain Ahab mista[K]es; it is I. The oil in the hold
is leaking, si[R]. We must up Burtons and break out.”
........................................
______ <= 34 =>
. thewond [R] ousoldmanwithhisbacktotheg
. angwayd [O] orwaswrinklinghisbrowandtr
. acinghi [S] oldcoursesagainWhostherehe
. aringth [E] footstepatthedoorbutnottur
. ningrou [N] dtoitOndeckBegoneCaptainAh
. abmista [K] esitisITheoilintheholdisle
. akingsi [R]
[ROSENKR] 34 {1 in 16}
-------------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville
CHAPTER 76 The Battering-Ram
.
So that when I shall hereafter detail to you all
the specialities and concentrations of potency
.
EVERywhe[R]e lur[K]ing i[N] this [E]xpan[S]ive m[O]nste[R];
.
when I shall show you some of his more inconsiderable braining
feats; I trust you will have renounced all ignorant incredulity,
and be ready to abide by this; that though the Sperm Whale stove
a passage through the Isthmus of Darien, and mixed the Atlantic
with the Pacific, you would not elevate one hair of your eye-brow.
For unless you own the whale, you are but a provincial and
sentimentalist in *TRUTH*. But clear *TRUTH* is a thing for
salamander giants only to encounter; how small the chances
for the provincials then? What befell the weakling youth
lifting the dread goddess’s *VEIL* at Lais?
....................
__ <= 5 =>
. E V E R y
. w h e [R] e
. l u r [K] i
. n g i [N] t
. h i s [E] x
. p a n [S] i
. v e m [O] n
. s t e [R]
[ROSENKR] -5 {1 in 130}
-------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha (1855)
~ 146,000 letters
..............................
"Why stand *IDLY* looking at us,
Leaning on the rock behind you?
Come and wrestle with the others,
Let us pitch the quoit togethe[R]!"
.
. Lazy [K]wasi[N]d mad[E] no an[S]wer,
.
T[O] thei[R] challenge made no answer,
Only *ROSE* , and slowly turning,
Seized the huge rock in his fingers,
Tore it from its *DEEP* foundation,
Poised it in the air a moment,
Pitched it sheer into the river,
Sheer into the *SWIFT* Pauwating,
Where it still is seen in Summer.
..............................
. [R]!L a z y
. [K] w a s i
. [N] d m a d
. [E] n o a n
. [S] w e r,T
. [O] t h e i
. [R] c h a l
. l e n g e
.
[ROSENKR] -5 {1 in 820}
-----------------------------------------------------
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Wadsworth_Longfellow
<<Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882)
was an American poet and educator whose works include
"Paul REVERE's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline.
He was also the first American to translate Dante Alighieri's
The Divine Comedy and was one of the five Fireside Poets.
Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, then part of Massachusetts,
and studied at Bowdoin College. After spending time in Europe he
became a professor at Bowdoin and, later, at Harvard College.
He is buried with both of his wives at Mount Auburn Cemetery
in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His last few years were spent
*translating the poetry of Michelangelo* ;
though Longfellow never considered it complete enough to
be published during his lifetime, a posthumous edition
was collected in 1883. Scholars generally regard the
work as autobiographical, reflecting the translator
as an aging artist facing his impending death
It was reported that 10,000 copies of The Courtship of Miles
Standish sold in London in a single day. Children adored him
and, when the "spreading chestnut-tree" mentioned in the
poem "The Village Blacksmith" was cut down, the children
of Cambridge had the tree converted into an armchair
which they presented to the poet.
In 1884, Longfellow became the first non-British writer
for whom a commemorative sculpted bust was placed
in Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey in London;
he remains the only American poet represented with a bust.>>
----------------------------------------------------------------
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Michael_Angelo/Dedication
.
Michael Angelo by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dedication Prologue at *ISCHIA* →
.
Nothing that is shall perish utterly,
But perish only to revive again
In other forms, as clouds restore in rain
The exhalations of the land and sea.
Men build their houses from the *MASONRY*
Of ruined tombs; the passion and the pain
Of hearts, that long have ceased to beat, remain
To throb in hearts that are, or are to be.
So from old chronicles, where sleep in DUST
Names that once filled the world with trumpet tones,
I build this verse; and flowers of song have thrust
Their roots among the loose disjointed stones,
Which to this end I fashion as I must.
Quickened are they that touch the Prophet's bones.
-----------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha XX. The Famine
Oh the long and drea[R]y W[I]nt[E]r!
O[H] the cold and cruel Winter!
*EVER* t[H]ick[E|R}, t(H|I]ck{E[R], t{H|I)cke(R)
Froze the ice on lake and river,
*EVER* *DEEPER*, *DEEPER*, *DEEPER*
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape,
Fell the *COVERING* snow, and drifted
Through the forest, round the village.
............................
Oh the <= 4 =>
. l o n g
. a n d d
. r e a [R]
. y W [I] n
. t [E] r! O
. [H] t h e
.
. t h e c
. o l d a
. n d c r
. u e l W
. i n t e
. r E V E
. R t [H] i
. c k [E|{R}
. t (H}[I] c
. k {E}[R] t
. {H}(I) c k
. e (R)
--------------------------------------------
XXII. Hiawatha's Departure (~6400 letters)
All the old men of the village,
Al[L] the warriors of the nation,
All th[E] Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The magic[I]ans, the Wabenos,
And the Medici[N]e-men, the Medas,
Came to bid the str[A]ngers welcome;
"It is well", they sai[D], "O brothers,
That you come so far to [S]ee us!"
.
[S.DANIEL] 28 {1 in 500}
.
In a circle round the doorway,
With their pipes they sat in silence,
Waiting to behold the strangers,
Waiting to receive their message;
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face,
From the wigwam came to greet them,
Stammering in his speech a little,
Speaking words yet unfamiliar;
"It is well," they said, "O brother,
That you come so far to see us!"
Then the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet,
Told his message to the people,
Told the purport of his mission,
Told the{M} of the Virgin M{A}ry,
And her bles{S}ed Son, the Savi{O}ur,
How in dista{N}t lands and age{S}
He had lived on earth as we do;
.
{MASONS} 13 {1 in 160}
.
How he fasted, prayed, and labored;
How the Jews, the tribe accursed,
Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him;
How he rose from where they laid him,
Walked again with his disciples,
And ascended into heaven.
----------------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha X - Hiawatha's Wooing
Just when they ha[V]e learned to h[E]lp us,
When we a[R]e old and lean [U]pon them,
Come[S] a youth with flaunting feathers,
With his flute of reeds, a *STRANGER*
......................................
______ <= 12 =>
.
. n t h e y h a[V] e l e a
. r n e d t o h[E] l p u s,
. W h e n w e a[R] e o l d
. a n d l e a n[U] p o n t
. h e m[C o m e S] a y o u
-th with flaunting feathers,
COMES + [VERUS] 12 ~ 1 in 29,000
........................................
. {ed}ouard{[U]s} *VERUS* , COMES Oxoniae,
. Vicecomes Bulbeck, Dominus de Scales
. & Badlismer, D. Magnus Angliae Ca-
. merarius: Lectori. S. D.
.
http://comp.uark.edu/~mreynold/aulicus.html
--------------------------------------------
- *PHOENIX AND (t)URTL(E)*
.
. LET the bird of loudest lay,
. On the sole Arabian tree,
. Herald sad and trumpet be,
. To whose sound cha[S]te wings obey.
. But tho[U] shrieking harbinge[R],
. Foul precurrer of th[E] fiend,
. Augur of the fe[V]er's end,
. To this troop {COME} thou not near!
......................................
______ <= 18 =>
.
. L e t t h e b i r d o f l o u d e s
. t l a y O n t h e s o l e A r a b i
. a n t r e e H e r a l d s a d a n d
. t r u m p e t b e T o w h o s e s o
. u n d c h a[S]t e w i n g s o b e y
_- B u t t h o[U]s h r i e k i n g h a
_- r b i n g e[R]F o u l p r e c u r r
__-e r o f t h[E]f i e n d A u g u r o
___f t h e f e[V]E R{S}e n d T o t h i
_ s t r o o p{C O M E}t h o u n o t n e a r
.
Prob. of [VERUS] ~ 1 in 1600 (any skip)
--------------------------------------------
- THE *PHOENIX* / *AND (the t)URTL(E)*
.
. Whereupon it made this threne
. To the phoenix and the *DOVE* ,
. Co-su{P}remes {A}nd sta{R}s of lo{V}e, As ch{O}rus
. *to their tragic scene* .
....................................
Co-su- <= 6 =>
. {P} r e m e s
. {A} n d s t a
. {R} s o f l o
. {V} e A s c h
. {O} r u s
*to their tragic scene* .
Prob. of {PARVO} ~ 1 in 4400 (any skip)
........................................................
*roger manners, e. rutland*, motto: *MULTUM IN PA(r)VO*
___________________________ *Much in Little*
-----------------------------------------------------
XVII. The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis by ...
"Ye[S]," the beaver chief responded,
"When our lodge below yo[U] enter,
In our wigwam we will make you
Ten times large[R] than the others."
Thus into the clear, brown water
Sil[E]ntly sank Pau-Puk-Keewis:
Found the bottom *coVERED O[V]ER*
......................................
______ <= 43 =>
.
. Ye[S]thebeaverchiefrespondedWhenourlodg-ebelow
. yo[U]enterInourwigwamwewillmakeyouTenti-meslar
. ge[R]thantheothersThusintotheclearbrown-waterS
. il[E]ntlysankPauPukKeewisFoundthebottom*coVERE*
. *DO[V]ER*
[VERUS] -43
......................................
With the trunks of trees and branches,
Hoards of food against the winter,
Piles and heaps against the famine;
Found the lodge with arching doorway,
Leading into spacious chambers.
Here they made him large and larger,
Made him largest of the beavers,
Ten times larger than the others.
"You shall be our ruler," said they;
"Chief and King of all the beavers."
But not long had {P}au-Puk-Keewis
Sat in st{A}te among the beave{R}s,
When there came a {V}oice of warning
Fr{O}m the watchman at his station
......................................
______ <= 16 =>
.
. {P} u k-K e e w i s S a t i n s t
. {A} t e a m o n g t h e b e a v e
. {R} s,W h e n t h e r e c a m e a
. {V} o i c e o f w a r n i n g F r
. {O} m t h e w a t c h m a n a t
{PARVO} 16
......................................
In the water-flags and lilies,
Saying, "Here Is Hiawatha!
Hiawatha with his hunters!"
--------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha II. The Four Winds
CoVER[E]D as with *WHITEST snow-flakes*.
"Ah! my brother from the No[R]th-land,
From the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of th[E] *WHITE Rabbit* !
You have stolen the maiden from me,
You ha[V]e laid your hand upon her,
You have wooed and won my maid[E]n,
With your stories of the North-land!"
Thus the wretche[D] Shawondasee
Breathed into the air his sorrow;
.................................................
___________ <= 45 =>
CoVER [E] DaswithWHITEstsnowflakesAhmybrotherfrom
theNo [R] thlandFromthekingdomofWabassoFromthelan
dofth [E] WHITERabbitYouhavestolenthemaidenfromme
Youha [V] elaidyourhanduponherYouhavewooedandwonm
ymaid [E] nWithyourstoriesoftheNorthlandThusthewr
etche [D] ShawondaseeBreathedintotheairhissorrow
[DEVERE] 2 in 3
------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville (~945,000 letters)
CHAPTER 42 The WHITEness of The Whale (~17,000 letters)
What the WHITE whale was to Ahab, *has been hinted* ;
what, at times, he was to me, as yet remains unsaid.
Aside from those more obvious considerations touching Moby Dick,
which could not but occasionally awaken in any man’s soul [S]ome
alarm, there was another tho[U]ght, or rather vague, nameless
ho[R]ror concerning him, which at tim[E]s by its intensity
completely O[V]ER(power)ED all the rest;
[VERUS] -27
and yet so mystical and well nigh ineffable was it, that I almost
despair of putting it in a comprehensible form. It was the WHITEness
of the whale that above all things appalled me. But how can I hope
to explain myself here; and yet, in some dim, random way,
explain myself I must, else all these chapters might be naught.
Though in many natural objects, WHITEness refiningly enhances beauty,
as if imparting some special virtue of its own, as in marbles,
japonicas, and pearls; and though various nations have in some
way recognised a certain roya[L] preemin[E]nce in th[I]s hue;
eve[N] the barb[A]ric, gran[D] old king[S] of Pegu placing
the title “Lord of the WHITE Elephants” above all their other
magniloquent ascriptions of dominion; and the modern kings
...........................
__ <= 8 =>
. r o y a [L] p r e
. e m i n [E] n c e
. i n t h [I] s h u
. e;e v e [N] t h e
. b a r b [A] r i c,
. g r a n [D] o l d
. k i n g [S]
[S. DANIEL] -8
...........................
of Siam unfurling the same snow-WHITE quadruped in the royal
standard; and the *HANOVERian flag* bearing the one figure
of a snow-WHITE charger; and the great Austrian Empire,
*CAESARIAN, HEIR to overlording Rome* ,
having for the imperial color the same imperial hue; and though
this pre-eminence in it applies to the human race itself, giving
the WHITE man ideal mastership over EVERy dusky tribe; and though,
besides, all this, WHITEness has been even made significant of
gladness, for among the Romans a WHITE stone marked a joyful day; and
though in other mortal sympathies and symbolizings, this same hue is
made the emblem of many touching, noble things—the innocence of
brides, the benignity of age; though among the Red Men of America the
giving of the WHITE belt of wampum was the deepest pledge of honor;
though in many climes, WHITEness typifies the majesty of Justice in
the ermine of the Judge, and contributes to the daily state of kings
and queens drawn by milk-WHITE steeds; though even in the higher
mysteries of the most august religions it has been made the symbol of
the divine spotlessness and power; by the Persian fire worshippers,
the WHITE forked flame being held the holiest on the altar; and in the
Greek mythologies, Great Jove himself being made incarnate in a snow-
WHITE bull; and though to the noble Iroquois, the midwinter sacrifice
of the sacred WHITE Dog was by far the holiest festival of their
theology, that spotless, faithful creature being held the purest envoy
they could send to the Great Spirit with the annual tidings of their
own fidelity; and though directly from the Latin word for WHITE, all
Christian priests derive the name of one part of their sacred vesture,
the alb or tunic, worn beneath the cassock; and though among the
holy pomps of the Romish faith, WHITE is specially employed in the
celebration of the Passion of our Lord; though in the *Vision of St.
John* , WHITE robes are given to the redeemed, and the four-and-twenty
elders stand clothed in WHITE before the great-WHITE throne, and
the Holy One that sitteth there WHITE like wool; yet for all these
accumulated associations, with whatEVER is sweet, and honorable,
and sublime, there yet lurks an elusive something in the
innermost idea of this hue, which strikes more of panic
to the soul than that redness which affrights in blood.
This elusive quality it is, which causes the thought of WHITEness,
when divorced from more kindly associations, and coupled with any
object terrible in itself, to heighten that terror to the furthest
bounds. Witness the WHITE bear of the poles, and the WHITE shark of
the tropics; what but their smooth, flaky WHITEness makes them the
transcendent horrors they are? That ghastly WHITEness it is which
imparts such an abhorrent mildness, even more loathsome than terrific,
to the dumb gloating of their aspect. So that not the fierce-fanged
tiger in his heraldic coat can so stagger courage as the WHITE-
shrouded bear or shark.
With reference to the Polar bear, it may possibly be urged by him
who would fain go still deeper into this matter, that it is not the
WHITEness, separately regarded, which heightens the intolerable
*HIDEOUSness* of that brute; for, analysed, that heightened
*HIDEOUSness* , it might be said, only rises from the circumstance,
that the irresponsible ferociousness of the creature stands invested
in the fleece of celestial innocence and love; and hence, by bringing
together two such opposite emotions in our minds, the Polar bear
f[R]ight[E]ns us [W]ith s[O] unna[T]ural a contrast.
[TOWER] -5
But even assuming all this to be *TRUE*; yet, were it not for the
WHITEness, you would not have that intensified terror. As for the
WHITE shark, the WHITE gliding ghostliness of repose in that creature,
when beheld in his ordinary moods, *STRANGEly* tallies with the same
quality in the Polar quadruped. This peculiarity is most vividly
hi[T] by the Fre[N]ch in the n[A]me they be[S]tow upon t[H]at fish.
Th[E] Romish mass for the dead begins with “Requiem eternam”
(eternal rest), whence Requiem denominating the mass itself,
and any other funeral music.
[TNASHE] 9
Now, in allusion to the WHITE, silent stillness of death
in this shark, and the mild deadliness of his habits,
the French call him Requin.
Bethink thee of the albatross, whence come those clouds of
spiritual wonderment and pale dread, in which that *WHITE PHANTOM*
sails in all imaginations? Not Coleridge first threw that spell;
but God’s great, unflattering laureate, Nature.
I remember the first albatross I EVER saw. It was during a prolonged
gale, in waters hard upon the Antarctic seas. From my forenoon watch
below, I ascended to the overclouded deck; and there, dashed upon the
main hatches, I saw a regal, feathery thing of unspotted WHITEness,
and with a hooked, Roman bill sublime. At intervals, it arched forth
its vast archangel wings, as if to embrace some holy ark. Wondrous
flutterings and throbbings shook it. Though bodily unharmed, it
uttered cries, as some *KING’s GHOST* in supernatural distress.
Through its inexpressible, *STRANGE eyes* , methought
*I peeped to secrets* which took hold of God.
As Abraham before the angels, I bowed myself; the WHITE thing
was so WHITE, its wings so wide, and in those for EVER exiled
waters, I had lost the miserable warping memories of traditions
and of towns. Long I gazed at that prodigy of plumage. I cannot tell,
can only hint, the things that darted through me then. But at last I
awoke; and turning, asked a sailor what bird was this. A goney, he
replied. Goney! nEVER had heard that name before; is it conceivable
that this glorious thing is utterly unknown to men ashore! nEVER!
But some time after, I learned that goney was some seaman’s name for
albatross. So that by no possibility could Coleridge’s wild Rhyme
have had aught to do with those mystical impressions which were
mine, when I saw that bird upon our deck. For neither had I
then *read the Rhyme, nor knew the bird to be an albatross* .
Yet, in saying this, I do but indirectly burnish a little
brighter *the noble merit of the poem and the poet* .
I assert, then, that in the wondrous bodily WHITEness of the bird
chiefly lurks the secret of the spell; a truth the more evinced
in this, that by a solecism of terms there are birds called grey
albatrosses; and these I have frequently seen, but nEVER with
such emotions as when I beheld the Antarctic fowl.
But how had the mystic thing been caught? Whisper it not, and I will
tell; with a treacherous hook and line, as the fowl floated on the
sea. At last the Captain made a postman of it; tying a lettered,
leathern tally round its neck, with the ship’s time and place;
and then letting it escape. But I doubt not, that leathern tally,
meant for man, was taken off in Heaven, when the WHITE fowl flew
to join the wing-folding, the invoking, and adoring cherubim!
Most famous in our Western annals and Indian traditions is that of the
WHITE Steed of the Prairies; a magnificent milk-WHITE charger, large-
eyed, small-headed, bluff-chested, and with the dignity of a thousand
monarchs in his lofty, overscorning carriage. He was the elected
Xerxes of vast herds of wild horses, whose pastures in those days
were only fenced by the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies. At their
flaming head he westward trooped it like that chosen star which EVERy
evening leads on the hosts of light. The flashing cascade of his mane,
the curving comet of his tail, invested him with housings more
resplendent than gold and silver-beaters could have furnished him. A
most imperial and archangelical apparition of that unfallen, western
world, which to the eyes of the old trappers and hunters revived the
glories of those primeval times when Adam walked majestic as a god,
bluff-browed and fearless as this mighty steed. Whether marching amid
his aides and marshals in the van of countless cohorts that endlessly
streamed it over the plains, like an Ohio; or whether with his
circumambient subjects browsing all around at the horizon, the WHITE
Steed gallopingly reviewed them with warm nostrils reddening through
his cool milkiness; in whatEVER aspect he presented himself, always to
the bravest Indians he was the object of trembling rEVERence and awe.
Nor can it be questioned from what stands on legendary record of this
NOBLE horse, that it was his spiritual WHITEness chiefly, which so
clothed him with divineness; and that this divineness had that in
it which, though commanding worship, at the same time enforced
*a certain nameless terror* .
But there are other instances where this WHITEness loses all that
accessory and *STRANGE GLORY* which invests it in the WHITE Steed
and Albatross.
What is it that in the Albino man so peculiarly repels and often
shocks the eye, as that sometimes he is loathed by his own kith and
kin! It is that WHITEness which invests him, a thing expressed by
the name he bears. The Albino is as well made as other men—has no
substantive deformity—and yet this mere aspect of all-pervading
WHITEness makes him more *STRANGEly HIDEOUS* than the ugliest
abortion. Why should this be so?
Nor, in quite other aspects, does Nature in her least palpable but
not the less malicious agencies, fail to enlist among her forces
this crowning attribute of the terrible. From its snowy aspect, the
gauntleted ghost of the Southern Seas has been denominated the WHITE
Squall. Nor, in some historic instances, has the art of human malice
omitted so potent an auxiliary. How wildly it heightens the effect of
that passage in Froissart, when, masked in the snowy symbol of their
faction, the desperate WHITE Hoods of Ghent murder their bailiff in
the market-place!
Nor, in some things, does the common, hereditary experience of all
mankind fail to bear witness to the supernaturalism of this hue. It
cannot well be doubted, that the one visible quality in the aspect of
the dead which most appals the gazer, is the marble pallor lingering
there; as if indeed that pallor were as much like the badge of
consternation in the other world, as of mortal trepidation here.
And from that pallor of the dead, we borrow the expressive hue of
the shroud in which we wrap them. Nor even in our superstitions do
we fail to throw the same snowy mantle round our *PHANTOMs* ; all
ghosts rising in a milk-WHITE fog—Yea, while these terrors seize us,
let us add, that even the king of terrors, when personified
by the evangelist, rides on his pallid horse.
Therefore, in his other moods, symbolize whatEVER grand or gracious
thing he will by WHITEness, no man can deny that in its profoundest
idealized significance it calls up a peculiar apparition to the soul.
But though without dissent this point be fixed, how is mortal man to
account for it? To analyze it, would seem impossible. Can we, then,
by the citation of some of those instances wherein this thing of
WHITEness —though for the time either wholly or in great part
stripped of all direct associations calculated to import to it
aught fearful, but nEVERtheless, is found to exert over us the
same sorcery, howEVER modified;—can we thus hope to light upon
*some chance clue to conduct us to the hidden cause we seek* ?
Let us try. But in a matter like this, subtlety appeals to subtlety,
and without imagination no man can follow another into these halls.
And though, doubtless, some at least of the imaginative impressions
about to be presented may have been shared by most men, yet few
perhaps were entirely conscious of them at the time, and
therefore may not be able to recall them now.
Why to the man of untutored ideality, who happens to be but loosely
acquainted with the peculiar character of the day, does the bare
mention of Whitsuntide marshal in the fancy such long, dreary,
speechless processions of slow-pacing pilgrims, down-cast and hooded
with new-fallen snow? Or to the unread, unsophisticated Protestant of
the Middle American States, why does the passing mention of a WHITE
Friar or a WHITE Nun, evoke such an eyeless statue in the soul?
Or what is there apart from the traditions of dungeoned warriors and
kings (which will not wholly account for it) that makes the WHITE
*TOWER of London* tell so much more strongly on the imagination of
an untravelled American, than those other storied structures, its
n[E]ighb[O]rs—th[E] Bywa[R]d *TOW[E]R* , or e[V]en th[E] Bloo[D]y?
And those sublimer *TOWERS* , the WHITE Mountains of New Hampshire,
whence, in peculiar moods, *COMES* that gigantic ghostliness over
the soul at the bare mention of that name, while the thought of
Virginia’s Blue Ridge is full of a soft, dewy, distant dreaminess?
...........................
__ <= 5 =>
. t s n [E] i
. g h b [O] r
. s—t h [E] B
. y w a [R]{D}
. *T O W [E]{R}*
. o r e [V]{E}
. n t h [E]{B}
. l o o [D]{Y}
.
[DE VERE O.E.] -5
...........................
Or why, irrespective of all latitudes and longitudes, does the name of
the WHITE Sea exert such a spectralness over the fancy, while that of
the Yellow Sea lulls us with mortal thoughts of long lacquered mild
afternoons on the waves, followed by the gaudiest and yet sleepiest
of sunsets? Or, to choose a wholly unsubstantial instance, purely
addressed to the fancy, why, in reading the old fairy tales of
Central Europe, does “the tall pale man” of the Hartz forests,
whose changeless pallor unrustlingly glides through the GREEN
of the groves—why is this *PHANTOM* more terrible than all
the *whooping IMPS* of the Blocksburg?
Nor is it, altogether, the remembrance of her cathedral-toppling
earthquakes; nor the stampedoes of her frantic seas; nor the
tearlessness of and skies that nEVER rain; nor the sight of her wide
field of leaning spires, wrenched cope-stones, and crosses all adroop
(like canted yards of anchored fleets); and her suburban avenues of
house-walls lying over upon each other, as a tossed pack of cards;—it
is not these things alone which make tearless Lima, the *STRANGEst* ,
saddest city thou can’st see. For Lima has taken the *WHITE VEIL* ;
and
there is a higher horror in this WHITEness of her woe. Old as Pizarro,
this WHITEness keeps her ruins for EVER new; admits not the cheerful
GREENness of complete decay; spreads over her broken ramparts the
rigid pallor of an apoplexy that fixes its own distortions.
I know that, to the common apprehension, this phenomenon of WHITEness
is not confessed to be the prime agent in exaggerating the terror of
objects otherwise terrible; nor to the unimaginative mind is there
aught of terror in those appearances whose awfulness to another mind
almost solely consists in this one phenomen[O]n, especially when
e[X]hibited under any f[O]rm at all approachi[N]g to muteness or
[U(n)IVERS]ality. What I mean by these two statements may perhaps
be respectively elucidated by the following examples.
....................................
_________ <= 17 =>
p h e n o m e n[O]n,e s p e c i a
l l y w h e n e[X]h i b i t e d u
n d e r a n y f[O]r m a t a l l a
p p r o a c h i[N]g t o m u t e n
e s s o r[U(n)I V E R S]a l i t y.
[OXON] 17
....................................
First: The mariner, when drawing nigh the coasts of foreign lands, if
by night he hear the roar of breakers, starts to vigilance, and feels
just enough of trepidation to sharpen all his faculties; but under
precisely similar circumstances, let him be called from his hammock to
view his ship sailing through a midnight sea of milky WHITEness—as if
from encircling headlands shoals of combed WHITE bears were swimming
round him, then he feels a silent, superstitious dread; the shrouded
*PHANTOM* of the WHITEned waters is horrible to him as a real ghost;
in vain the lead assures him he is still off soundings; heart and helm
they both go down; he nEVER rests till blue water is under him again.
Yet where is the mariner who will tell thee, “Sir, it was not so
much the fear of striking hidden rocks, as the fear of that
*HIDEOUS WHITEness* that so stirred me?”
Second: To the native Indian of Peru, the continual sight of the
snowhowdahed Andes conveys naught of dread, except, perhaps, in
the me[R]e fancyin[G] of the ete[R]nal frost[E]d desolat[E]ness
reig[N]ing at such vast altitudes, and the natural conceit of what
a fearfulness it would be to lose oneself in such inhuman solitude.
[R.GREEN] 9
Much the same is it with the backwoodsman of the West, who with
comparative indifference views an unbounded prairie sheeted with
driven snow, no shadow of tree or twig to break the fixed trance of
WHITEness. Not so the sailor, beholding the scenery of the Antarctic
seas; where at times, by some infernal trick of legerdemain in the
powers of frost and air, he, shivering and half shipwrecked,
instead of rainbows speaking hope and solace to his misery,
views what seems a boundless churchyard grinning upon him
with its lean *ice MONUMENTs and splintered CROSSES* .
But thou sayest, methinks that WHITE-lead chapter about
WHITEness is but a WHITE flag hung out from a *CRAVEN* soul;
thou surrenderest to a hypo, Ishmael.
Tell me, why this strong young colt, foaled in some peaceful valley of
Vermont, far removed from a[l]l beasts of prey—why is it that upo[n]
the sunniest day, if you but *SHAKE* [a] fresh buffalo robe behind
him, so [t]hat he cannot even see it, but only [s]mells its wild
animal muskiness—[w]hy will he start, snort, and with bursting eyes
paw the ground in phrensies of affright?
[W.STANL] -28
There is no remembrance in him of any gorings of wild creatures in
his GREEN northern home, so that the *STRANGE* muskiness he smells
cannot recall to him anything associated with the experience
of former perils; for what knows he, this New England colt,
of the black bisons of distant Oregon?
No; but here thou beholdest even in a dumb brute, the instinct of the
knowledge of the demonism in the world. Though thousands of miles from
Oregon, still when he smells that savage musk, the rending, goring
bison herds are as present as to the deserted wild foal of the
prairies, which this instant they may be *trampling into DUST* .
Thus, then, the muffled rollings of a milky sea; the bleak rustlings
of the festooned frosts of mountains; the desolate shiftings of the
windrowed snows of prairies; all these, to Ishmael, are as the
*SHAKING* of that buffalo robe to the frightened colt!
Though neither knows where lie the *NAMELESS THINGS* of which the
mystic sign gives forth such hints; yet with me, as with the colt,
somewhere those things must exist. Though in many of its aspects
this visible world seems formed in love, the *INVISIBLE SPHERES*
were formed in fright.
But not yet have we solved the incantation of this WHITEness,
and learned why it appeals with such power to the soul; and
*MORE STRANGE* and far more portentous—why, as we have seen,
it is at once the most meaning symbol of spiritual things,
nay, the *VERy VEIL* of the Christian’s Deity; and yet
should be as it is, the intensifying agent in things
the most appalling to mankind.
Is it that by its indefiniteness it SHADOWS forth the heartless voids
and immensities of the U(n)IVERS(e), and thus stabs us from behind
with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the WHITE depths of
the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence WHITEness is not so much
a color as the visible absence of color; and at the same time the
concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such
a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows—a
colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we
consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other
earthly hues—EVERy stately or lovely emblazoning—the sweet tinges of
sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies,
and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile
deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only
laid on from without; so that all deified Nature
ab[S]ol[U]te[L]y p[A]in[T]s like the harlot,
whose allurements cover nothing but the *CHARNEL-HOUSE* within;
[TALUS] -3
and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic
which produces EVERy one of her hues, the great principle of light,
for EVER remains WHITE or colorless in itself, and if operating
without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and
roses, with its own blank tinge—pondering all this, the palsied
U(n)IVERS(e) lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in
Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon
their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the
MONUMENTal WHITE shroud that wraps all the prospect around him.
And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol.
Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?
----------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer
__ \_*_/
__ _\_/
__ * - X * Edward de Vere, Erle of Oxenford was buryed
__ _/_\ __________ the 6th daye of Julye Å 1604
__ _/ *_\ ____________ [ *St. Godelieve's day* ]
.
<<The strange, large 'X' type symbol appears to have been put there
much later. According to Paul Altrocchi, this must have happened a
many decades later "...since pencils with such a sharp point did
not appear until the late 1600's." It really is anybody's guess
who put it there - perhaps an over-enthusiastic Oxfordian?>>
.
- _The Death of Edward de Vere_ by Michael Llewellyn
...........................................................
THE CREST OF *JOHANN VALENTIN ANDREÆ*.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/eso/sta/img/14000.jpg
....................................................
<<The reference to four red roses & a white cross in
the Chymical Marriage of Christian Rosencreutz identified
Johann Valentin Andreæ as its author, for his family crest,
shown above, consisted of four red roses & a white cross.>>
........................................................
1616 *JOHANN VALENTIN ANDREÆ's* Rosicrucian manifesto:
. _The Chemical Wedding of Christian *ROSEN-KREUZ* 1459_
.
1616 Shakespeare wills Anne second best bed.
1616 Cervantes & Shakespeare die on St.George's Day.
1616 1000th anniversary of Ethelbert(/bard?)'s death.
1616 Jupiter returns the "Serpent's foot"
1616 Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (V2) published
---------------------------------------------------------
. . Rosicrucians. . Freemasons
. . Rosy Cross[the Craft] Stone Guild
.................................................
. Q1. *ROSsenCRAFT*. . *GuilderSTONE*
. Q2. ROSencrans. . Guyldensterne
. F1. ROSincrane. . Guildensterne
. F2,3,4 *ROSinCROSSe* . . Guildenstare
---------------------------------------------------
The Fama Fraternitatis presented the legend of
a German doctor & mystic philosopher referred to as
"Frater C.R.C." (later identified in a 3rd manifesto
as Christian [ROSENKR]euz, or {ROSE}-[CROSS]).
Robinson Crusoe (corrupted from the
German name "Kreutznaer" or "Kreutznär")
------------------------------------------------
. _Robinson Crusoe_ (~480,000 letters)
.
<<I enclosed five several pieces of ground to feed them in, with
little *PENS* to d[R]ive them to take them as I wanted, and gates
out [O]f one piece of ground into another. But this wa[S] not all;
for now I not only had goat’s flesh to fe[E]d on when I pleased,
but milk too— a thing which, i[N]deed, in the beginning, I did not
so much as thin[K] of, and which, when it came into my thoughts,
was [R]eally an agreeable surprise, for now I set up my dairy,
and had sometimes a gallon or two of milk in a day.>>
...............................................
with little *PENS* to <= 38 =>
. d [R] ivethemtotakethemasIwantedandgatesou
. t [O] fonepieceofgroundintoanotherButthisw
. a [S] notallfornowInotonlyhadgoatsfleshtof
. e [E] donwhenIpleasedbutmilktooathingwhich
. i [N] deedinthebeginningIdidnotsomuchasthi
. n [K] ofandwhichwhenitcameintomythoughtswa
. s [R] eallyanagreeablesurprise
[ROSENKR] 38 {1 in 27}
-------------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville (~925,000 letters)
CHAPTER 109 Ahab and Starbuck in the Cabin
.
With his snow-white new ivory leg braced against the screwed
leg of his table, and with a long pruning-hook of a jack-knife
in his hand, the wond[R]ous old man, with his back to the
gangway d[O]or, was wrinkling his brow, and tracing hi[S]
old courses again.
.
“Who’s there?” hearing th[E] footstep at the door,
but not turning rou[N]d to it. “On deck! Begone!”
.
“Captain Ahab mista[K]es; it is I. The oil in the hold
is leaking, si[R]. We must up Burtons and break out.”
........................................
______ <= 34 =>
. thewond [R] ousoldmanwithhisbacktotheg
. angwayd [O] orwaswrinklinghisbrowandtr
. acinghi [S] oldcoursesagainWhostherehe
. aringth [E] footstepatthedoorbutnottur
. ningrou [N] dtoitOndeckBegoneCaptainAh
. abmista [K] esitisITheoilintheholdisle
. akingsi [R]
[ROSENKR] 34 {1 in 16}
-------------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville
CHAPTER 76 The Battering-Ram
.
So that when I shall hereafter detail to you all
the specialities and concentrations of potency
.
EVERywhe[R]e lur[K]ing i[N] this [E]xpan[S]ive m[O]nste[R];
.
when I shall show you some of his more inconsiderable braining
feats; I trust you will have renounced all ignorant incredulity,
and be ready to abide by this; that though the Sperm Whale stove
a passage through the Isthmus of Darien, and mixed the Atlantic
with the Pacific, you would not elevate one hair of your eye-brow.
For unless you own the whale, you are but a provincial and
sentimentalist in *TRUTH*. But clear *TRUTH* is a thing for
salamander giants only to encounter; how small the chances
for the provincials then? What befell the weakling youth
lifting the dread goddess’s *VEIL* at Lais?
....................
__ <= 5 =>
. E V E R y
. w h e [R] e
. l u r [K] i
. n g i [N] t
. h i s [E] x
. p a n [S] i
. v e m [O] n
. s t e [R]
[ROSENKR] -5 {1 in 130}
-------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha (1855)
~ 146,000 letters
..............................
"Why stand *IDLY* looking at us,
Leaning on the rock behind you?
Come and wrestle with the others,
Let us pitch the quoit togethe[R]!"
.
. Lazy [K]wasi[N]d mad[E] no an[S]wer,
.
T[O] thei[R] challenge made no answer,
Only *ROSE* , and slowly turning,
Seized the huge rock in his fingers,
Tore it from its *DEEP* foundation,
Poised it in the air a moment,
Pitched it sheer into the river,
Sheer into the *SWIFT* Pauwating,
Where it still is seen in Summer.
..............................
. [R]!L a z y
. [K] w a s i
. [N] d m a d
. [E] n o a n
. [S] w e r,T
. [O] t h e i
. [R] c h a l
. l e n g e
.
[ROSENKR] -5 {1 in 820}
-----------------------------------------------------
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Wadsworth_Longfellow
<<Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882)
was an American poet and educator whose works include
"Paul REVERE's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline.
He was also the first American to translate Dante Alighieri's
The Divine Comedy and was one of the five Fireside Poets.
Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, then part of Massachusetts,
and studied at Bowdoin College. After spending time in Europe he
became a professor at Bowdoin and, later, at Harvard College.
He is buried with both of his wives at Mount Auburn Cemetery
in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His last few years were spent
*translating the poetry of Michelangelo* ;
though Longfellow never considered it complete enough to
be published during his lifetime, a posthumous edition
was collected in 1883. Scholars generally regard the
work as autobiographical, reflecting the translator
as an aging artist facing his impending death
It was reported that 10,000 copies of The Courtship of Miles
Standish sold in London in a single day. Children adored him
and, when the "spreading chestnut-tree" mentioned in the
poem "The Village Blacksmith" was cut down, the children
of Cambridge had the tree converted into an armchair
which they presented to the poet.
In 1884, Longfellow became the first non-British writer
for whom a commemorative sculpted bust was placed
in Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey in London;
he remains the only American poet represented with a bust.>>
----------------------------------------------------------------
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Michael_Angelo/Dedication
.
Michael Angelo by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Dedication Prologue at *ISCHIA* →
.
Nothing that is shall perish utterly,
But perish only to revive again
In other forms, as clouds restore in rain
The exhalations of the land and sea.
Men build their houses from the *MASONRY*
Of ruined tombs; the passion and the pain
Of hearts, that long have ceased to beat, remain
To throb in hearts that are, or are to be.
So from old chronicles, where sleep in DUST
Names that once filled the world with trumpet tones,
I build this verse; and flowers of song have thrust
Their roots among the loose disjointed stones,
Which to this end I fashion as I must.
Quickened are they that touch the Prophet's bones.
-----------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha XX. The Famine
Oh the long and drea[R]y W[I]nt[E]r!
O[H] the cold and cruel Winter!
*EVER* t[H]ick[E|R}, t(H|I]ck{E[R], t{H|I)cke(R)
Froze the ice on lake and river,
*EVER* *DEEPER*, *DEEPER*, *DEEPER*
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape,
Fell the *COVERING* snow, and drifted
Through the forest, round the village.
............................
Oh the <= 4 =>
. l o n g
. a n d d
. r e a [R]
. y W [I] n
. t [E] r! O
. [H] t h e
.
. t h e c
. o l d a
. n d c r
. u e l W
. i n t e
. r E V E
. R t [H] i
. c k [E|{R}
. t (H}[I] c
. k {E}[R] t
. {H}(I) c k
. e (R)
--------------------------------------------
XXII. Hiawatha's Departure (~6400 letters)
All the old men of the village,
Al[L] the warriors of the nation,
All th[E] Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The magic[I]ans, the Wabenos,
And the Medici[N]e-men, the Medas,
Came to bid the str[A]ngers welcome;
"It is well", they sai[D], "O brothers,
That you come so far to [S]ee us!"
.
[S.DANIEL] 28 {1 in 500}
.
In a circle round the doorway,
With their pipes they sat in silence,
Waiting to behold the strangers,
Waiting to receive their message;
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face,
From the wigwam came to greet them,
Stammering in his speech a little,
Speaking words yet unfamiliar;
"It is well," they said, "O brother,
That you come so far to see us!"
Then the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet,
Told his message to the people,
Told the purport of his mission,
Told the{M} of the Virgin M{A}ry,
And her bles{S}ed Son, the Savi{O}ur,
How in dista{N}t lands and age{S}
He had lived on earth as we do;
.
{MASONS} 13 {1 in 160}
.
How he fasted, prayed, and labored;
How the Jews, the tribe accursed,
Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him;
How he rose from where they laid him,
Walked again with his disciples,
And ascended into heaven.
----------------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha X - Hiawatha's Wooing
Just when they ha[V]e learned to h[E]lp us,
When we a[R]e old and lean [U]pon them,
Come[S] a youth with flaunting feathers,
With his flute of reeds, a *STRANGER*
......................................
______ <= 12 =>
.
. n t h e y h a[V] e l e a
. r n e d t o h[E] l p u s,
. W h e n w e a[R] e o l d
. a n d l e a n[U] p o n t
. h e m[C o m e S] a y o u
-th with flaunting feathers,
COMES + [VERUS] 12 ~ 1 in 29,000
........................................
. {ed}ouard{[U]s} *VERUS* , COMES Oxoniae,
. Vicecomes Bulbeck, Dominus de Scales
. & Badlismer, D. Magnus Angliae Ca-
. merarius: Lectori. S. D.
.
http://comp.uark.edu/~mreynold/aulicus.html
--------------------------------------------
- *PHOENIX AND (t)URTL(E)*
.
. LET the bird of loudest lay,
. On the sole Arabian tree,
. Herald sad and trumpet be,
. To whose sound cha[S]te wings obey.
. But tho[U] shrieking harbinge[R],
. Foul precurrer of th[E] fiend,
. Augur of the fe[V]er's end,
. To this troop {COME} thou not near!
......................................
______ <= 18 =>
.
. L e t t h e b i r d o f l o u d e s
. t l a y O n t h e s o l e A r a b i
. a n t r e e H e r a l d s a d a n d
. t r u m p e t b e T o w h o s e s o
. u n d c h a[S]t e w i n g s o b e y
_- B u t t h o[U]s h r i e k i n g h a
_- r b i n g e[R]F o u l p r e c u r r
__-e r o f t h[E]f i e n d A u g u r o
___f t h e f e[V]E R{S}e n d T o t h i
_ s t r o o p{C O M E}t h o u n o t n e a r
.
Prob. of [VERUS] ~ 1 in 1600 (any skip)
--------------------------------------------
- THE *PHOENIX* / *AND (the t)URTL(E)*
.
. Whereupon it made this threne
. To the phoenix and the *DOVE* ,
. Co-su{P}remes {A}nd sta{R}s of lo{V}e, As ch{O}rus
. *to their tragic scene* .
....................................
Co-su- <= 6 =>
. {P} r e m e s
. {A} n d s t a
. {R} s o f l o
. {V} e A s c h
. {O} r u s
*to their tragic scene* .
Prob. of {PARVO} ~ 1 in 4400 (any skip)
........................................................
*roger manners, e. rutland*, motto: *MULTUM IN PA(r)VO*
___________________________ *Much in Little*
-----------------------------------------------------
XVII. The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis by ...
"Ye[S]," the beaver chief responded,
"When our lodge below yo[U] enter,
In our wigwam we will make you
Ten times large[R] than the others."
Thus into the clear, brown water
Sil[E]ntly sank Pau-Puk-Keewis:
Found the bottom *coVERED O[V]ER*
......................................
______ <= 43 =>
.
. Ye[S]thebeaverchiefrespondedWhenourlodg-ebelow
. yo[U]enterInourwigwamwewillmakeyouTenti-meslar
. ge[R]thantheothersThusintotheclearbrown-waterS
. il[E]ntlysankPauPukKeewisFoundthebottom*coVERE*
. *DO[V]ER*
[VERUS] -43
......................................
With the trunks of trees and branches,
Hoards of food against the winter,
Piles and heaps against the famine;
Found the lodge with arching doorway,
Leading into spacious chambers.
Here they made him large and larger,
Made him largest of the beavers,
Ten times larger than the others.
"You shall be our ruler," said they;
"Chief and King of all the beavers."
But not long had {P}au-Puk-Keewis
Sat in st{A}te among the beave{R}s,
When there came a {V}oice of warning
Fr{O}m the watchman at his station
......................................
______ <= 16 =>
.
. {P} u k-K e e w i s S a t i n s t
. {A} t e a m o n g t h e b e a v e
. {R} s,W h e n t h e r e c a m e a
. {V} o i c e o f w a r n i n g F r
. {O} m t h e w a t c h m a n a t
{PARVO} 16
......................................
In the water-flags and lilies,
Saying, "Here Is Hiawatha!
Hiawatha with his hunters!"
--------------------------------------------
The Song of Hiawatha II. The Four Winds
CoVER[E]D as with *WHITEST snow-flakes*.
"Ah! my brother from the No[R]th-land,
From the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of th[E] *WHITE Rabbit* !
You have stolen the maiden from me,
You ha[V]e laid your hand upon her,
You have wooed and won my maid[E]n,
With your stories of the North-land!"
Thus the wretche[D] Shawondasee
Breathed into the air his sorrow;
.................................................
___________ <= 45 =>
CoVER [E] DaswithWHITEstsnowflakesAhmybrotherfrom
theNo [R] thlandFromthekingdomofWabassoFromthelan
dofth [E] WHITERabbitYouhavestolenthemaidenfromme
Youha [V] elaidyourhanduponherYouhavewooedandwonm
ymaid [E] nWithyourstoriesoftheNorthlandThusthewr
etche [D] ShawondaseeBreathedintotheairhissorrow
[DEVERE] 2 in 3
------------------------------------
Moby-Dick (1851) by Herman Melville (~945,000 letters)
CHAPTER 42 The WHITEness of The Whale (~17,000 letters)
What the WHITE whale was to Ahab, *has been hinted* ;
what, at times, he was to me, as yet remains unsaid.
Aside from those more obvious considerations touching Moby Dick,
which could not but occasionally awaken in any man’s soul [S]ome
alarm, there was another tho[U]ght, or rather vague, nameless
ho[R]ror concerning him, which at tim[E]s by its intensity
completely O[V]ER(power)ED all the rest;
[VERUS] -27
and yet so mystical and well nigh ineffable was it, that I almost
despair of putting it in a comprehensible form. It was the WHITEness
of the whale that above all things appalled me. But how can I hope
to explain myself here; and yet, in some dim, random way,
explain myself I must, else all these chapters might be naught.
Though in many natural objects, WHITEness refiningly enhances beauty,
as if imparting some special virtue of its own, as in marbles,
japonicas, and pearls; and though various nations have in some
way recognised a certain roya[L] preemin[E]nce in th[I]s hue;
eve[N] the barb[A]ric, gran[D] old king[S] of Pegu placing
the title “Lord of the WHITE Elephants” above all their other
magniloquent ascriptions of dominion; and the modern kings
...........................
__ <= 8 =>
. r o y a [L] p r e
. e m i n [E] n c e
. i n t h [I] s h u
. e;e v e [N] t h e
. b a r b [A] r i c,
. g r a n [D] o l d
. k i n g [S]
[S. DANIEL] -8
...........................
of Siam unfurling the same snow-WHITE quadruped in the royal
standard; and the *HANOVERian flag* bearing the one figure
of a snow-WHITE charger; and the great Austrian Empire,
*CAESARIAN, HEIR to overlording Rome* ,
having for the imperial color the same imperial hue; and though
this pre-eminence in it applies to the human race itself, giving
the WHITE man ideal mastership over EVERy dusky tribe; and though,
besides, all this, WHITEness has been even made significant of
gladness, for among the Romans a WHITE stone marked a joyful day; and
though in other mortal sympathies and symbolizings, this same hue is
made the emblem of many touching, noble things—the innocence of
brides, the benignity of age; though among the Red Men of America the
giving of the WHITE belt of wampum was the deepest pledge of honor;
though in many climes, WHITEness typifies the majesty of Justice in
the ermine of the Judge, and contributes to the daily state of kings
and queens drawn by milk-WHITE steeds; though even in the higher
mysteries of the most august religions it has been made the symbol of
the divine spotlessness and power; by the Persian fire worshippers,
the WHITE forked flame being held the holiest on the altar; and in the
Greek mythologies, Great Jove himself being made incarnate in a snow-
WHITE bull; and though to the noble Iroquois, the midwinter sacrifice
of the sacred WHITE Dog was by far the holiest festival of their
theology, that spotless, faithful creature being held the purest envoy
they could send to the Great Spirit with the annual tidings of their
own fidelity; and though directly from the Latin word for WHITE, all
Christian priests derive the name of one part of their sacred vesture,
the alb or tunic, worn beneath the cassock; and though among the
holy pomps of the Romish faith, WHITE is specially employed in the
celebration of the Passion of our Lord; though in the *Vision of St.
John* , WHITE robes are given to the redeemed, and the four-and-twenty
elders stand clothed in WHITE before the great-WHITE throne, and
the Holy One that sitteth there WHITE like wool; yet for all these
accumulated associations, with whatEVER is sweet, and honorable,
and sublime, there yet lurks an elusive something in the
innermost idea of this hue, which strikes more of panic
to the soul than that redness which affrights in blood.
This elusive quality it is, which causes the thought of WHITEness,
when divorced from more kindly associations, and coupled with any
object terrible in itself, to heighten that terror to the furthest
bounds. Witness the WHITE bear of the poles, and the WHITE shark of
the tropics; what but their smooth, flaky WHITEness makes them the
transcendent horrors they are? That ghastly WHITEness it is which
imparts such an abhorrent mildness, even more loathsome than terrific,
to the dumb gloating of their aspect. So that not the fierce-fanged
tiger in his heraldic coat can so stagger courage as the WHITE-
shrouded bear or shark.
With reference to the Polar bear, it may possibly be urged by him
who would fain go still deeper into this matter, that it is not the
WHITEness, separately regarded, which heightens the intolerable
*HIDEOUSness* of that brute; for, analysed, that heightened
*HIDEOUSness* , it might be said, only rises from the circumstance,
that the irresponsible ferociousness of the creature stands invested
in the fleece of celestial innocence and love; and hence, by bringing
together two such opposite emotions in our minds, the Polar bear
f[R]ight[E]ns us [W]ith s[O] unna[T]ural a contrast.
[TOWER] -5
But even assuming all this to be *TRUE*; yet, were it not for the
WHITEness, you would not have that intensified terror. As for the
WHITE shark, the WHITE gliding ghostliness of repose in that creature,
when beheld in his ordinary moods, *STRANGEly* tallies with the same
quality in the Polar quadruped. This peculiarity is most vividly
hi[T] by the Fre[N]ch in the n[A]me they be[S]tow upon t[H]at fish.
Th[E] Romish mass for the dead begins with “Requiem eternam”
(eternal rest), whence Requiem denominating the mass itself,
and any other funeral music.
[TNASHE] 9
Now, in allusion to the WHITE, silent stillness of death
in this shark, and the mild deadliness of his habits,
the French call him Requin.
Bethink thee of the albatross, whence come those clouds of
spiritual wonderment and pale dread, in which that *WHITE PHANTOM*
sails in all imaginations? Not Coleridge first threw that spell;
but God’s great, unflattering laureate, Nature.
I remember the first albatross I EVER saw. It was during a prolonged
gale, in waters hard upon the Antarctic seas. From my forenoon watch
below, I ascended to the overclouded deck; and there, dashed upon the
main hatches, I saw a regal, feathery thing of unspotted WHITEness,
and with a hooked, Roman bill sublime. At intervals, it arched forth
its vast archangel wings, as if to embrace some holy ark. Wondrous
flutterings and throbbings shook it. Though bodily unharmed, it
uttered cries, as some *KING’s GHOST* in supernatural distress.
Through its inexpressible, *STRANGE eyes* , methought
*I peeped to secrets* which took hold of God.
As Abraham before the angels, I bowed myself; the WHITE thing
was so WHITE, its wings so wide, and in those for EVER exiled
waters, I had lost the miserable warping memories of traditions
and of towns. Long I gazed at that prodigy of plumage. I cannot tell,
can only hint, the things that darted through me then. But at last I
awoke; and turning, asked a sailor what bird was this. A goney, he
replied. Goney! nEVER had heard that name before; is it conceivable
that this glorious thing is utterly unknown to men ashore! nEVER!
But some time after, I learned that goney was some seaman’s name for
albatross. So that by no possibility could Coleridge’s wild Rhyme
have had aught to do with those mystical impressions which were
mine, when I saw that bird upon our deck. For neither had I
then *read the Rhyme, nor knew the bird to be an albatross* .
Yet, in saying this, I do but indirectly burnish a little
brighter *the noble merit of the poem and the poet* .
I assert, then, that in the wondrous bodily WHITEness of the bird
chiefly lurks the secret of the spell; a truth the more evinced
in this, that by a solecism of terms there are birds called grey
albatrosses; and these I have frequently seen, but nEVER with
such emotions as when I beheld the Antarctic fowl.
But how had the mystic thing been caught? Whisper it not, and I will
tell; with a treacherous hook and line, as the fowl floated on the
sea. At last the Captain made a postman of it; tying a lettered,
leathern tally round its neck, with the ship’s time and place;
and then letting it escape. But I doubt not, that leathern tally,
meant for man, was taken off in Heaven, when the WHITE fowl flew
to join the wing-folding, the invoking, and adoring cherubim!
Most famous in our Western annals and Indian traditions is that of the
WHITE Steed of the Prairies; a magnificent milk-WHITE charger, large-
eyed, small-headed, bluff-chested, and with the dignity of a thousand
monarchs in his lofty, overscorning carriage. He was the elected
Xerxes of vast herds of wild horses, whose pastures in those days
were only fenced by the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies. At their
flaming head he westward trooped it like that chosen star which EVERy
evening leads on the hosts of light. The flashing cascade of his mane,
the curving comet of his tail, invested him with housings more
resplendent than gold and silver-beaters could have furnished him. A
most imperial and archangelical apparition of that unfallen, western
world, which to the eyes of the old trappers and hunters revived the
glories of those primeval times when Adam walked majestic as a god,
bluff-browed and fearless as this mighty steed. Whether marching amid
his aides and marshals in the van of countless cohorts that endlessly
streamed it over the plains, like an Ohio; or whether with his
circumambient subjects browsing all around at the horizon, the WHITE
Steed gallopingly reviewed them with warm nostrils reddening through
his cool milkiness; in whatEVER aspect he presented himself, always to
the bravest Indians he was the object of trembling rEVERence and awe.
Nor can it be questioned from what stands on legendary record of this
NOBLE horse, that it was his spiritual WHITEness chiefly, which so
clothed him with divineness; and that this divineness had that in
it which, though commanding worship, at the same time enforced
*a certain nameless terror* .
But there are other instances where this WHITEness loses all that
accessory and *STRANGE GLORY* which invests it in the WHITE Steed
and Albatross.
What is it that in the Albino man so peculiarly repels and often
shocks the eye, as that sometimes he is loathed by his own kith and
kin! It is that WHITEness which invests him, a thing expressed by
the name he bears. The Albino is as well made as other men—has no
substantive deformity—and yet this mere aspect of all-pervading
WHITEness makes him more *STRANGEly HIDEOUS* than the ugliest
abortion. Why should this be so?
Nor, in quite other aspects, does Nature in her least palpable but
not the less malicious agencies, fail to enlist among her forces
this crowning attribute of the terrible. From its snowy aspect, the
gauntleted ghost of the Southern Seas has been denominated the WHITE
Squall. Nor, in some historic instances, has the art of human malice
omitted so potent an auxiliary. How wildly it heightens the effect of
that passage in Froissart, when, masked in the snowy symbol of their
faction, the desperate WHITE Hoods of Ghent murder their bailiff in
the market-place!
Nor, in some things, does the common, hereditary experience of all
mankind fail to bear witness to the supernaturalism of this hue. It
cannot well be doubted, that the one visible quality in the aspect of
the dead which most appals the gazer, is the marble pallor lingering
there; as if indeed that pallor were as much like the badge of
consternation in the other world, as of mortal trepidation here.
And from that pallor of the dead, we borrow the expressive hue of
the shroud in which we wrap them. Nor even in our superstitions do
we fail to throw the same snowy mantle round our *PHANTOMs* ; all
ghosts rising in a milk-WHITE fog—Yea, while these terrors seize us,
let us add, that even the king of terrors, when personified
by the evangelist, rides on his pallid horse.
Therefore, in his other moods, symbolize whatEVER grand or gracious
thing he will by WHITEness, no man can deny that in its profoundest
idealized significance it calls up a peculiar apparition to the soul.
But though without dissent this point be fixed, how is mortal man to
account for it? To analyze it, would seem impossible. Can we, then,
by the citation of some of those instances wherein this thing of
WHITEness —though for the time either wholly or in great part
stripped of all direct associations calculated to import to it
aught fearful, but nEVERtheless, is found to exert over us the
same sorcery, howEVER modified;—can we thus hope to light upon
*some chance clue to conduct us to the hidden cause we seek* ?
Let us try. But in a matter like this, subtlety appeals to subtlety,
and without imagination no man can follow another into these halls.
And though, doubtless, some at least of the imaginative impressions
about to be presented may have been shared by most men, yet few
perhaps were entirely conscious of them at the time, and
therefore may not be able to recall them now.
Why to the man of untutored ideality, who happens to be but loosely
acquainted with the peculiar character of the day, does the bare
mention of Whitsuntide marshal in the fancy such long, dreary,
speechless processions of slow-pacing pilgrims, down-cast and hooded
with new-fallen snow? Or to the unread, unsophisticated Protestant of
the Middle American States, why does the passing mention of a WHITE
Friar or a WHITE Nun, evoke such an eyeless statue in the soul?
Or what is there apart from the traditions of dungeoned warriors and
kings (which will not wholly account for it) that makes the WHITE
*TOWER of London* tell so much more strongly on the imagination of
an untravelled American, than those other storied structures, its
n[E]ighb[O]rs—th[E] Bywa[R]d *TOW[E]R* , or e[V]en th[E] Bloo[D]y?
And those sublimer *TOWERS* , the WHITE Mountains of New Hampshire,
whence, in peculiar moods, *COMES* that gigantic ghostliness over
the soul at the bare mention of that name, while the thought of
Virginia’s Blue Ridge is full of a soft, dewy, distant dreaminess?
...........................
__ <= 5 =>
. t s n [E] i
. g h b [O] r
. s—t h [E] B
. y w a [R]{D}
. *T O W [E]{R}*
. o r e [V]{E}
. n t h [E]{B}
. l o o [D]{Y}
.
[DE VERE O.E.] -5
...........................
Or why, irrespective of all latitudes and longitudes, does the name of
the WHITE Sea exert such a spectralness over the fancy, while that of
the Yellow Sea lulls us with mortal thoughts of long lacquered mild
afternoons on the waves, followed by the gaudiest and yet sleepiest
of sunsets? Or, to choose a wholly unsubstantial instance, purely
addressed to the fancy, why, in reading the old fairy tales of
Central Europe, does “the tall pale man” of the Hartz forests,
whose changeless pallor unrustlingly glides through the GREEN
of the groves—why is this *PHANTOM* more terrible than all
the *whooping IMPS* of the Blocksburg?
Nor is it, altogether, the remembrance of her cathedral-toppling
earthquakes; nor the stampedoes of her frantic seas; nor the
tearlessness of and skies that nEVER rain; nor the sight of her wide
field of leaning spires, wrenched cope-stones, and crosses all adroop
(like canted yards of anchored fleets); and her suburban avenues of
house-walls lying over upon each other, as a tossed pack of cards;—it
is not these things alone which make tearless Lima, the *STRANGEst* ,
saddest city thou can’st see. For Lima has taken the *WHITE VEIL* ;
and
there is a higher horror in this WHITEness of her woe. Old as Pizarro,
this WHITEness keeps her ruins for EVER new; admits not the cheerful
GREENness of complete decay; spreads over her broken ramparts the
rigid pallor of an apoplexy that fixes its own distortions.
I know that, to the common apprehension, this phenomenon of WHITEness
is not confessed to be the prime agent in exaggerating the terror of
objects otherwise terrible; nor to the unimaginative mind is there
aught of terror in those appearances whose awfulness to another mind
almost solely consists in this one phenomen[O]n, especially when
e[X]hibited under any f[O]rm at all approachi[N]g to muteness or
[U(n)IVERS]ality. What I mean by these two statements may perhaps
be respectively elucidated by the following examples.
....................................
_________ <= 17 =>
p h e n o m e n[O]n,e s p e c i a
l l y w h e n e[X]h i b i t e d u
n d e r a n y f[O]r m a t a l l a
p p r o a c h i[N]g t o m u t e n
e s s o r[U(n)I V E R S]a l i t y.
[OXON] 17
....................................
First: The mariner, when drawing nigh the coasts of foreign lands, if
by night he hear the roar of breakers, starts to vigilance, and feels
just enough of trepidation to sharpen all his faculties; but under
precisely similar circumstances, let him be called from his hammock to
view his ship sailing through a midnight sea of milky WHITEness—as if
from encircling headlands shoals of combed WHITE bears were swimming
round him, then he feels a silent, superstitious dread; the shrouded
*PHANTOM* of the WHITEned waters is horrible to him as a real ghost;
in vain the lead assures him he is still off soundings; heart and helm
they both go down; he nEVER rests till blue water is under him again.
Yet where is the mariner who will tell thee, “Sir, it was not so
much the fear of striking hidden rocks, as the fear of that
*HIDEOUS WHITEness* that so stirred me?”
Second: To the native Indian of Peru, the continual sight of the
snowhowdahed Andes conveys naught of dread, except, perhaps, in
the me[R]e fancyin[G] of the ete[R]nal frost[E]d desolat[E]ness
reig[N]ing at such vast altitudes, and the natural conceit of what
a fearfulness it would be to lose oneself in such inhuman solitude.
[R.GREEN] 9
Much the same is it with the backwoodsman of the West, who with
comparative indifference views an unbounded prairie sheeted with
driven snow, no shadow of tree or twig to break the fixed trance of
WHITEness. Not so the sailor, beholding the scenery of the Antarctic
seas; where at times, by some infernal trick of legerdemain in the
powers of frost and air, he, shivering and half shipwrecked,
instead of rainbows speaking hope and solace to his misery,
views what seems a boundless churchyard grinning upon him
with its lean *ice MONUMENTs and splintered CROSSES* .
But thou sayest, methinks that WHITE-lead chapter about
WHITEness is but a WHITE flag hung out from a *CRAVEN* soul;
thou surrenderest to a hypo, Ishmael.
Tell me, why this strong young colt, foaled in some peaceful valley of
Vermont, far removed from a[l]l beasts of prey—why is it that upo[n]
the sunniest day, if you but *SHAKE* [a] fresh buffalo robe behind
him, so [t]hat he cannot even see it, but only [s]mells its wild
animal muskiness—[w]hy will he start, snort, and with bursting eyes
paw the ground in phrensies of affright?
[W.STANL] -28
There is no remembrance in him of any gorings of wild creatures in
his GREEN northern home, so that the *STRANGE* muskiness he smells
cannot recall to him anything associated with the experience
of former perils; for what knows he, this New England colt,
of the black bisons of distant Oregon?
No; but here thou beholdest even in a dumb brute, the instinct of the
knowledge of the demonism in the world. Though thousands of miles from
Oregon, still when he smells that savage musk, the rending, goring
bison herds are as present as to the deserted wild foal of the
prairies, which this instant they may be *trampling into DUST* .
Thus, then, the muffled rollings of a milky sea; the bleak rustlings
of the festooned frosts of mountains; the desolate shiftings of the
windrowed snows of prairies; all these, to Ishmael, are as the
*SHAKING* of that buffalo robe to the frightened colt!
Though neither knows where lie the *NAMELESS THINGS* of which the
mystic sign gives forth such hints; yet with me, as with the colt,
somewhere those things must exist. Though in many of its aspects
this visible world seems formed in love, the *INVISIBLE SPHERES*
were formed in fright.
But not yet have we solved the incantation of this WHITEness,
and learned why it appeals with such power to the soul; and
*MORE STRANGE* and far more portentous—why, as we have seen,
it is at once the most meaning symbol of spiritual things,
nay, the *VERy VEIL* of the Christian’s Deity; and yet
should be as it is, the intensifying agent in things
the most appalling to mankind.
Is it that by its indefiniteness it SHADOWS forth the heartless voids
and immensities of the U(n)IVERS(e), and thus stabs us from behind
with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the WHITE depths of
the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence WHITEness is not so much
a color as the visible absence of color; and at the same time the
concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such
a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows—a
colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we
consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other
earthly hues—EVERy stately or lovely emblazoning—the sweet tinges of
sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies,
and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile
deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only
laid on from without; so that all deified Nature
ab[S]ol[U]te[L]y p[A]in[T]s like the harlot,
whose allurements cover nothing but the *CHARNEL-HOUSE* within;
[TALUS] -3
and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic
which produces EVERy one of her hues, the great principle of light,
for EVER remains WHITE or colorless in itself, and if operating
without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and
roses, with its own blank tinge—pondering all this, the palsied
U(n)IVERS(e) lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in
Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon
their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the
MONUMENTal WHITE shroud that wraps all the prospect around him.
And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol.
Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?
----------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer
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