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  <title>Shelby and Brad | Blog</title>
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  <description>Brad Czerniak and Shelby Hassell (nee Sleete) are getting married in October in Michigan.</description>
  <lastBuildDate>Thu, 07 Oct 2021 22:15:05 UTC</lastBuildDate>
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    <item>
      <title>Shelby's thoughts about blogging</title>
      <link>http://shelbybrad.com/blog/shelbys-thoughts-on-blogging/</link>
      <pubDate>Sun, 15 Mar 2020 00:00:00 UTC</pubDate>
      
        
        <dc:creator>Shelby Hassell</dc:creator>
      
      
      
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://shelbybrad.com/blog/shelbys-thoughts-on-blogging/</guid>
      <description><![CDATA[First things first

Blogging is silly and useless. And it’s a dumb word. I very much prefer podcasts.
]]></description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<h2 id="first-things-first">First things first</h2>

<p>Blogging is silly and useless. And it’s a dumb word. I very much prefer podcasts.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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    <item>
      <title>Love, by Anton Chekhov</title>
      <link>http://shelbybrad.com/blog/love-anton-chekhov/</link>
      <pubDate>Thu, 09 Sep 2004 00:00:00 UTC</pubDate>
      
        
        <dc:creator>Brad Czerniak</dc:creator>
      
      
      
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://shelbybrad.com/blog/love-anton-chekhov/</guid>
      <description><![CDATA[Retrieved from the Internet Archive.

LOVE

“THREE o’clock in the morning. The soft April night is looking in
at my windows and caressingly winking at me with its stars. I can’t
sleep, I am so happy!

“My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange,
incomprehensible feeling. I can’t analyse it just now–I haven’t
the time, I’m too lazy, and there–hang analysis! Why, is a man
likely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost
from a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred
thousand? Is he in a state to do it?”

This was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl
of nineteen with whom I had fallen in love. I began it five times,
and as often tore up the sheets, scratched out whole pages, and
copied it all over again. I spent as long over the letter as if it
had been a novel I had to write to order. And it was not because I
tried to make it longer, more elaborate, and more fervent, but
because I wanted endlessly to prolong the process of this writing,
when one sits in the stillness of one’s study and communes with
one’s own day-dreams while the spring night looks in at one’s window.
Between the lines I saw a beloved image, and it seemed to me that
there were, sitting at the same table writing with me, spirits as
naively happy, as foolish, and as blissfully smiling as I. I wrote
continually, looking at my hand, which still ached deliciously where
hers had lately pressed it, and if I turned my eyes away I had a
vision of the green trellis of the little gate. Through that trellis
Sasha gazed at me after I had said goodbye to her. When I was saying
good-bye to Sasha I was thinking of nothing and was simply admiring
her figure as every decent man admires a pretty woman; when I saw
through the trellis two big eyes, I suddenly, as though by inspiration,
knew that I was in love, that it was all settled between us, and
fully decided already, that I had nothing left to do but to carry
out certain formalities.

It is a great delight also to seal up a love-letter, and, slowly
putting on one’s hat and coat, to go softly out of the house and
to carry the treasure to the post. There are no stars in the sky
now: in their place there is a long whitish streak in the east,
broken here and there by clouds above the roofs of the dingy houses;
from that streak the whole sky is flooded with pale light. The town
is asleep, but already the water-carts have come out, and somewhere
in a far-away factory a whistle sounds to wake up the workpeople.
Beside the postbox, slightly moist with dew, you are sure to see
the clumsy figure of a house porter, wearing a bell-shaped sheepskin
and carrying a stick. He is in a condition akin to catalepsy: he
is not asleep or awake, but something between.

If the boxes knew how often people resort to them for the decision
of their fate, they would not have such a humble air. I, anyway,
almost kissed my postbox, and as I gazed at it I reflected that the
post is the greatest of blessings.

I beg anyone who has ever been in love to remember how one usually
hurries home after dropping the letter in the box, rapidly gets
into bed and pulls up the quilt in the full conviction that as soon
as one wakes up in the morning one will be overwhelmed with memories
of the previous day and look with rapture at the window, where the
daylight will be eagerly making its way through the folds of the
curtain.

Well, to facts. . . . Next morning at midday, Sasha’s maid brought
me the following answer: “I am delited be sure to come to us to day
please I shall expect you. Your S.”

Not a single comma. This lack of punctuation, and the misspelling
of the word “delighted,” the whole letter, and even the long, narrow
envelope in which it was put filled my heart with tenderness. In
the sprawling but diffident handwriting I recognised Sasha’s walk,
her way of raising her eyebrows when she laughed, the movement of
her lips. . . . But the contents of the letter did not satisfy me.
In the first place, poetical letters are not answered in that way,
and in the second, why should I go to Sasha’s house to wait till
it should occur to her stout mamma, her brothers, and poor relations
to leave us alone together? It would never enter their heads, and
nothing is more hateful than to have to restrain one’s raptures
simply because of the intrusion of some animate trumpery in the
shape of a half-deaf old woman or little girl pestering one with
questions. I sent an answer by the maid asking Sasha to select some
park or boulevard for a rendezvous. My suggestion was readily
accepted. I had struck the right chord, as the saying is.

Between four and five o’clock in the afternoon I made my way to the
furthest and most overgrown part of the park. There was not a soul
in the park, and the tryst might have taken place somewhere nearer
in one of the avenues or arbours, but women don’t like doing it by
halves in romantic affairs; in for a penny, in for a pound–if
you are in for a tryst, let it be in the furthest and most impenetrable
thicket, where one runs the risk of stumbling upon some rough or
drunken man. When I went up to Sasha she was standing with her back
to me, and in that back I could read a devilish lot of mystery. It
seemed as though that back and the nape of her neck, and the black
spots on her dress were saying: Hush! . . . The girl was wearing a
simple cotton dress over which she had thrown a light cape. To add
to the air of mysterious secrecy, her face was covered with a white
veil. Not to spoil the effect, I had to approach on tiptoe and speak
in a half whisper.

From what I remember now, I was not so much the essential point of
the rendezvous as a detail of it. Sasha was not so much absorbed
in the interview itself as in its romantic mysteriousness, my kisses,
the silence of the gloomy trees, my vows. . . . There was not a
minute in which she forgot herself, was overcome, or let the
mysterious expression drop from her face, and really if there had
been any Ivan Sidoritch or Sidor Ivanitch in my place she would
have felt just as happy. How is one to make out in such circumstances
whether one is loved or not? Whether the love is “the real thing”
or not?

From the park I took Sasha home with me. The presence of the beloved
woman in one’s bachelor quarters affects one like wine and music.
Usually one begins to speak of the future, and the confidence and
self-reliance with which one does so is beyond bounds. You make
plans and projects, talk fervently of the rank of general though
you have not yet reached the rank of a lieutenant, and altogether
you fire off such high-flown nonsense that your listener must have
a great deal of love and ignorance of life to assent to it. Fortunately
for men, women in love are always blinded by their feelings and
never know anything of life. Far from not assenting, they actually
turn pale with holy awe, are full of reverence and hang greedily
on the maniac’s words. Sasha listened to me with attention, but I
soon detected an absent-minded expression on her face, she did not
understand me. The future of which I talked interested her only in
its external aspect and I was wasting time in displaying my plans
and projects before her. She was keenly interested in knowing which
would be her room, what paper she would have in the room, why I had
an upright piano instead of a grand piano, and so on. She examined
carefully all the little things on my table, looked at the photographs,
sniffed at the bottles, peeled the old stamps off the envelopes,
saying she wanted them for something.

“Please collect old stamps for me!” she said, making a grave face.
“Please do.”

Then she found a nut in the window, noisily cracked it and ate it.

“Why don’t you stick little labels on the backs of your books?” she
asked, taking a look at the bookcase.

“What for?”

“Oh, so that each book should have its number. And where am I to
put my books? I’ve got books too, you know.”

“What books have you got?” I asked.

Sasha raised her eyebrows, thought a moment and said:

“All sorts.”

And if it had entered my head to ask her what thoughts, what
convictions, what aims she had, she would no doubt have raised her
eyebrows, thought a minute, and have said in the same way: “All
sorts.”

Later I saw Sasha home and left her house regularly, officially
engaged, and was so reckoned till our wedding. If the reader will
allow me to judge merely from my personal experience, I maintain
that to be engaged is very dreary, far more so than to be a husband
or nothing at all. An engaged man is neither one thing nor the
other, he has left one side of the river and not reached the other,
he is not married and yet he can’t be said to be a bachelor, but
is in something not unlike the condition of the porter whom I have
mentioned above.

Every day as soon as I had a free moment I hastened to my fiancee.
As I went I usually bore within me a multitude of hopes, desires,
intentions, suggestions, phrases. I always fancied that as soon as
the maid opened the door I should, from feeling oppressed and
stifled, plunge at once up to my neck into a sea of refreshing
happiness. But it always turned out otherwise in fact. Every time
I went to see my fiancee I found all her family and other members
of the household busy over the silly trousseau. (And by the way,
they were hard at work sewing for two months and then they had less
than a hundred roubles’ worth of things). There was a smell of
irons, candle grease and fumes. Bugles scrunched under one’s feet.
The two most important rooms were piled up with billows of linen,
calico, and muslin and from among the billows peeped out Sasha’s
little head with a thread between her teeth. All the sewing party
welcomed me with cries of delight but at once led me off into the
dining-room where I could not hinder them nor see what only husbands
are permitted to behold. In spite of my feelings, I had to sit in
the dining-room and converse with Pimenovna, one of the poor
relations. Sasha, looking worried and excited, kept running by me
with a thimble, a skein of wool or some other boring object.

“Wait, wait, I shan’t be a minute,” she would say when I raised
imploring eyes to her. “Only fancy that wretch Stepanida has spoilt
the bodice of the barège dress!”

And after waiting in vain for this grace, I lost my temper, went
out of the house and walked about the streets in the company of the
new cane I had bought. Or I would want to go for a walk or a drive
with my fiancee, would go round and find her already standing in
the hall with her mother, dressed to go out and playing with her
parasol.

“Oh, we are going to the Arcade,” she would say. “We have got to
buy some more cashmere and change the hat.”

My outing is knocked on the head. I join the ladies and go with
them to the Arcade. It is revoltingly dull to listen to women
shopping, haggling and trying to outdo the sharp shopman. I felt
ashamed when Sasha, after turning over masses of material and
knocking down the prices to a minimum, walked out of the shop without
buying anything, or else told the shopman to cut her some half
rouble’s worth.

When they came out of the shop, Sasha and her mamma with scared and
worried faces would discuss at length having made a mistake, having
bought the wrong thing, the flowers in the chintz being too dark,
and so on.

Yes, it is a bore to be engaged! I’m glad it’s over.

Now I am married. It is evening. I am sitting in my study reading.
Behind me on the sofa Sasha is sitting munching something noisily.
I want a glass of beer.

“Sasha, look for the corkscrew. . . .” I say. “It’s lying about
somewhere.”

Sasha leaps up, rummages in a disorderly way among two or three
heaps of papers, drops the matches, and without finding the corkscrew,
sits down in silence. . . . Five minutes pass–ten. . . I begin
to be fretted both by thirst and vexation.

“Sasha, do look for the corkscrew,” I say.

Sasha leaps up again and rummages among the papers near me. Her
munching and rustling of the papers affects me like the sound of
sharpening knives against each other. . . . I get up and begin
looking for the corkscrew myself. At last it is found and the beer
is uncorked. Sasha remains by the table and begins telling me
something at great length.

“You’d better read something, Sasha,” I say.

She takes up a book, sits down facing me and begins moving her lips
. . . . I look at her little forehead, moving lips, and sink into
thought.

“She is getting on for twenty. . . .” I reflect. “If one takes a
boy of the educated class and of that age and compares them, what
a difference! The boy would have knowledge and convictions and some
intelligence.”

But I forgive that difference just as the low forehead and moving
lips are forgiven. I remember in my old Lovelace days I have cast
off women for a stain on their stockings, or for one foolish word,
or for not cleaning their teeth, and now I forgive everything: the
munching, the muddling about after the corkscrew, the slovenliness,
the long talking about nothing that matters; I forgive it all almost
unconsciously, with no effort of will, as though Sasha’s mistakes
were my mistakes, and many things which would have made me wince
in old days move me to tenderness and even rapture. The explanation
of this forgiveness of everything lies in my love for Sasha, but
what is the explanation of the love itself, I really don’t know.
]]></description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Retrieved from <a href="https://archive.org/details/love13414gut">the Internet Archive</a>.</p>

<h2 id="love">LOVE</h2>

<p>“THREE o’clock in the morning. The soft April night is looking in
at my windows and caressingly winking at me with its stars. I can’t
sleep, I am so happy!</p>

<p>“My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange,
incomprehensible feeling. I can’t analyse it just now–I haven’t
the time, I’m too lazy, and there–hang analysis! Why, is a man
likely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost
from a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred
thousand? Is he in a state to do it?”</p>

<p>This was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl
of nineteen with whom I had fallen in love. I began it five times,
and as often tore up the sheets, scratched out whole pages, and
copied it all over again. I spent as long over the letter as if it
had been a novel I had to write to order. And it was not because I
tried to make it longer, more elaborate, and more fervent, but
because I wanted endlessly to prolong the process of this writing,
when one sits in the stillness of one’s study and communes with
one’s own day-dreams while the spring night looks in at one’s window.
Between the lines I saw a beloved image, and it seemed to me that
there were, sitting at the same table writing with me, spirits as
naively happy, as foolish, and as blissfully smiling as I. I wrote
continually, looking at my hand, which still ached deliciously where
hers had lately pressed it, and if I turned my eyes away I had a
vision of the green trellis of the little gate. Through that trellis
Sasha gazed at me after I had said goodbye to her. When I was saying
good-bye to Sasha I was thinking of nothing and was simply admiring
her figure as every decent man admires a pretty woman; when I saw
through the trellis two big eyes, I suddenly, as though by inspiration,
knew that I was in love, that it was all settled between us, and
fully decided already, that I had nothing left to do but to carry
out certain formalities.</p>

<p>It is a great delight also to seal up a love-letter, and, slowly
putting on one’s hat and coat, to go softly out of the house and
to carry the treasure to the post. There are no stars in the sky
now: in their place there is a long whitish streak in the east,
broken here and there by clouds above the roofs of the dingy houses;
from that streak the whole sky is flooded with pale light. The town
is asleep, but already the water-carts have come out, and somewhere
in a far-away factory a whistle sounds to wake up the workpeople.
Beside the postbox, slightly moist with dew, you are sure to see
the clumsy figure of a house porter, wearing a bell-shaped sheepskin
and carrying a stick. He is in a condition akin to catalepsy: he
is not asleep or awake, but something between.</p>

<p>If the boxes knew how often people resort to them for the decision
of their fate, they would not have such a humble air. I, anyway,
almost kissed my postbox, and as I gazed at it I reflected that the
post is the greatest of blessings.</p>

<p>I beg anyone who has ever been in love to remember how one usually
hurries home after dropping the letter in the box, rapidly gets
into bed and pulls up the quilt in the full conviction that as soon
as one wakes up in the morning one will be overwhelmed with memories
of the previous day and look with rapture at the window, where the
daylight will be eagerly making its way through the folds of the
curtain.</p>

<p>Well, to facts. . . . Next morning at midday, Sasha’s maid brought
me the following answer: “I am delited be sure to come to us to day
please I shall expect you. Your S.”</p>

<p>Not a single comma. This lack of punctuation, and the misspelling
of the word “delighted,” the whole letter, and even the long, narrow
envelope in which it was put filled my heart with tenderness. In
the sprawling but diffident handwriting I recognised Sasha’s walk,
her way of raising her eyebrows when she laughed, the movement of
her lips. . . . But the contents of the letter did not satisfy me.
In the first place, poetical letters are not answered in that way,
and in the second, why should I go to Sasha’s house to wait till
it should occur to her stout mamma, her brothers, and poor relations
to leave us alone together? It would never enter their heads, and
nothing is more hateful than to have to restrain one’s raptures
simply because of the intrusion of some animate trumpery in the
shape of a half-deaf old woman or little girl pestering one with
questions. I sent an answer by the maid asking Sasha to select some
park or boulevard for a rendezvous. My suggestion was readily
accepted. I had struck the right chord, as the saying is.</p>

<p>Between four and five o’clock in the afternoon I made my way to the
furthest and most overgrown part of the park. There was not a soul
in the park, and the tryst might have taken place somewhere nearer
in one of the avenues or arbours, but women don’t like doing it by
halves in romantic affairs; in for a penny, in for a pound–if
you are in for a tryst, let it be in the furthest and most impenetrable
thicket, where one runs the risk of stumbling upon some rough or
drunken man. When I went up to Sasha she was standing with her back
to me, and in that back I could read a devilish lot of mystery. It
seemed as though that back and the nape of her neck, and the black
spots on her dress were saying: Hush! . . . The girl was wearing a
simple cotton dress over which she had thrown a light cape. To add
to the air of mysterious secrecy, her face was covered with a white
veil. Not to spoil the effect, I had to approach on tiptoe and speak
in a half whisper.</p>

<p>From what I remember now, I was not so much the essential point of
the rendezvous as a detail of it. Sasha was not so much absorbed
in the interview itself as in its romantic mysteriousness, my kisses,
the silence of the gloomy trees, my vows. . . . There was not a
minute in which she forgot herself, was overcome, or let the
mysterious expression drop from her face, and really if there had
been any Ivan Sidoritch or Sidor Ivanitch in my place she would
have felt just as happy. How is one to make out in such circumstances
whether one is loved or not? Whether the love is “the real thing”
or not?</p>

<p>From the park I took Sasha home with me. The presence of the beloved
woman in one’s bachelor quarters affects one like wine and music.
Usually one begins to speak of the future, and the confidence and
self-reliance with which one does so is beyond bounds. You make
plans and projects, talk fervently of the rank of general though
you have not yet reached the rank of a lieutenant, and altogether
you fire off such high-flown nonsense that your listener must have
a great deal of love and ignorance of life to assent to it. Fortunately
for men, women in love are always blinded by their feelings and
never know anything of life. Far from not assenting, they actually
turn pale with holy awe, are full of reverence and hang greedily
on the maniac’s words. Sasha listened to me with attention, but I
soon detected an absent-minded expression on her face, she did not
understand me. The future of which I talked interested her only in
its external aspect and I was wasting time in displaying my plans
and projects before her. She was keenly interested in knowing which
would be her room, what paper she would have in the room, why I had
an upright piano instead of a grand piano, and so on. She examined
carefully all the little things on my table, looked at the photographs,
sniffed at the bottles, peeled the old stamps off the envelopes,
saying she wanted them for something.</p>

<p>“Please collect old stamps for me!” she said, making a grave face.
“Please do.”</p>

<p>Then she found a nut in the window, noisily cracked it and ate it.</p>

<p>“Why don’t you stick little labels on the backs of your books?” she
asked, taking a look at the bookcase.</p>

<p>“What for?”</p>

<p>“Oh, so that each book should have its number. And where am I to
put my books? I’ve got books too, you know.”</p>

<p>“What books have you got?” I asked.</p>

<p>Sasha raised her eyebrows, thought a moment and said:</p>

<p>“All sorts.”</p>

<p>And if it had entered my head to ask her what thoughts, what
convictions, what aims she had, she would no doubt have raised her
eyebrows, thought a minute, and have said in the same way: “All
sorts.”</p>

<p>Later I saw Sasha home and left her house regularly, officially
engaged, and was so reckoned till our wedding. If the reader will
allow me to judge merely from my personal experience, I maintain
that to be engaged is very dreary, far more so than to be a husband
or nothing at all. An engaged man is neither one thing nor the
other, he has left one side of the river and not reached the other,
he is not married and yet he can’t be said to be a bachelor, but
is in something not unlike the condition of the porter whom I have
mentioned above.</p>

<p>Every day as soon as I had a free moment I hastened to my fiancee.
As I went I usually bore within me a multitude of hopes, desires,
intentions, suggestions, phrases. I always fancied that as soon as
the maid opened the door I should, from feeling oppressed and
stifled, plunge at once up to my neck into a sea of refreshing
happiness. But it always turned out otherwise in fact. Every time
I went to see my fiancee I found all her family and other members
of the household busy over the silly trousseau. (And by the way,
they were hard at work sewing for two months and then they had less
than a hundred roubles’ worth of things). There was a smell of
irons, candle grease and fumes. Bugles scrunched under one’s feet.
The two most important rooms were piled up with billows of linen,
calico, and muslin and from among the billows peeped out Sasha’s
little head with a thread between her teeth. All the sewing party
welcomed me with cries of delight but at once led me off into the
dining-room where I could not hinder them nor see what only husbands
are permitted to behold. In spite of my feelings, I had to sit in
the dining-room and converse with Pimenovna, one of the poor
relations. Sasha, looking worried and excited, kept running by me
with a thimble, a skein of wool or some other boring object.</p>

<p>“Wait, wait, I shan’t be a minute,” she would say when I raised
imploring eyes to her. “Only fancy that wretch Stepanida has spoilt
the bodice of the barège dress!”</p>

<p>And after waiting in vain for this grace, I lost my temper, went
out of the house and walked about the streets in the company of the
new cane I had bought. Or I would want to go for a walk or a drive
with my fiancee, would go round and find her already standing in
the hall with her mother, dressed to go out and playing with her
parasol.</p>

<p>“Oh, we are going to the Arcade,” she would say. “We have got to
buy some more cashmere and change the hat.”</p>

<p>My outing is knocked on the head. I join the ladies and go with
them to the Arcade. It is revoltingly dull to listen to women
shopping, haggling and trying to outdo the sharp shopman. I felt
ashamed when Sasha, after turning over masses of material and
knocking down the prices to a minimum, walked out of the shop without
buying anything, or else told the shopman to cut her some half
rouble’s worth.</p>

<p>When they came out of the shop, Sasha and her mamma with scared and
worried faces would discuss at length having made a mistake, having
bought the wrong thing, the flowers in the chintz being too dark,
and so on.</p>

<p>Yes, it is a bore to be engaged! I’m glad it’s over.</p>

<p>Now I am married. It is evening. I am sitting in my study reading.
Behind me on the sofa Sasha is sitting munching something noisily.
I want a glass of beer.</p>

<p>“Sasha, look for the corkscrew. . . .” I say. “It’s lying about
somewhere.”</p>

<p>Sasha leaps up, rummages in a disorderly way among two or three
heaps of papers, drops the matches, and without finding the corkscrew,
sits down in silence. . . . Five minutes pass–ten. . . I begin
to be fretted both by thirst and vexation.</p>

<p>“Sasha, do look for the corkscrew,” I say.</p>

<p>Sasha leaps up again and rummages among the papers near me. Her
munching and rustling of the papers affects me like the sound of
sharpening knives against each other. . . . I get up and begin
looking for the corkscrew myself. At last it is found and the beer
is uncorked. Sasha remains by the table and begins telling me
something at great length.</p>

<p>“You’d better read something, Sasha,” I say.</p>

<p>She takes up a book, sits down facing me and begins moving her lips
. . . . I look at her little forehead, moving lips, and sink into
thought.</p>

<p>“She is getting on for twenty. . . .” I reflect. “If one takes a
boy of the educated class and of that age and compares them, what
a difference! The boy would have knowledge and convictions and some
intelligence.”</p>

<p>But I forgive that difference just as the low forehead and moving
lips are forgiven. I remember in my old Lovelace days I have cast
off women for a stain on their stockings, or for one foolish word,
or for not cleaning their teeth, and now I forgive everything: the
munching, the muddling about after the corkscrew, the slovenliness,
the long talking about nothing that matters; I forgive it all almost
unconsciously, with no effort of will, as though Sasha’s mistakes
were my mistakes, and many things which would have made me wince
in old days move me to tenderness and even rapture. The explanation
of this forgiveness of everything lies in my love for Sasha, but
what is the explanation of the love itself, I really don’t know.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
    </item>
  
    <item>
      <title>Marriage, a novel</title>
      <link>http://shelbybrad.com/blog/marriage-a-novel-susan-edmonstone-ferrier/</link>
      <pubDate>Sat, 19 Jun 2004 00:00:00 UTC</pubDate>
      
        
        <dc:creator>Brad Czerniak</dc:creator>
      
      
      
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://shelbybrad.com/blog/marriage-a-novel-susan-edmonstone-ferrier/</guid>
      <description><![CDATA[Excerpt of Marriage, a novel, as retrived from the Internet Archive.

PREFATORY NOTE.

MISS FERRIER’S Novels have, since their first appearance, suffered
curtailment in all subsequent Editions. The present Edition is the first
reprint from the original Editions, and contains the whole of the
omissions in other reprints. It is, therefore, the only perfect Edition
of these Novels.

Works which have received the praise of Sir Walter Scott and Sir James
Mackintosh, and been thought worthy of discussion in the Noctes
Ambrosianae, require no further introduction to the reader. The almost
exceptional position which they occupy as satirizing the foibles rather
than the more serious faults of human nature, and the caustic character
of that satire, mingled with such bright wit and genial humour, give
Miss Ferrier a place to herself in English fiction; and it is felt that
a time has come to recognize this by producing her works in a form which
fits them for the library, and in a type which enables them to be read
with enjoyment.

G.B.

NEW BURLINGTON STREET,

December, 1881.

MARRIAGE.

CHAPTER I.


  “Love!–A word by superstition thought a God; by use turned to an
humour; by self-will made a flattering madness.”

  Alexander and Campaspe.


“COME hither, child,” said the old Earl of Courtland to his daughter,
as, in obedience to his summons, she entered his study; “come hither, I
say; I wish to have some serious conversation with you: so dismiss your
dogs, shut the door, and sit down here.”

“Lady Juliana rang for the footman to take Venus; bade Pluto be quiet,
like a darling, under the sofa; and, taking Cupid in her arms, assured
his Lordship he need fear no disturbance from the sweet creatures, and
that she would be all attention to his commands–kissing her cherished
pug as she spoke.

“You are now, I think, seventeen, Juliana,” said his Lordship in a
solemn important tone.

“And a half, papa.”

“It is therefore time you should be thinking of establishing yourself in
the world. Have you ever turned your thoughts that way?”

Lady Juliana cast down her beautiful eyes, and was silent.

“As I can give you no fortune,” continued the Earl, swelling with
ill-suppressed importance, as he proceeded, “you have perhaps no great
pretensions to a very brilliant establishment.”

“Oh! none in the world, papa,” eagerly interrupted Lady Juliana; “a mere
competence with the man of my heart.”

“The man of a fiddlestick!” exclaimed Lord Courtland in a fury; “what
the devil have you to do with a heart, I should like to know? There’s no
talking to a young woman now about marriage, but she is all in a blaze
about hearts, and darts, and–and–But hark ye, child, I’ll suffer no
daughter of mine to play the fool with her heart, indeed! She shall
marry for the purpose for which matrimony was ordained amongst people of
birth–that is, for the aggrandisement of her family, the extending of
their political influence–for becoming, in short, the depository of
their mutual interest. These are the only purposes for which persons of
rank ever think of marriage. And pray, what has your heart to say to
that?”

“Nothing, papa,” replied Lady Juliana in a faint dejected tone of voice.
“Have done, Cupid!” addressing her favourite, who was amusing himself
in pulling and tearing the beautiful lace veil that partly shaded the
head of his fair mistress.

“I thought not,” resumed the Earl in a triumphant tone–“I thought not,
indeed.” And as this victory over his daughter put him in unusual good
humour, he condescended to sport a little with her curiosity.

“And pray, can this wonderful wise heart of yours inform you who it is
you are going to obtain for a husband?”

Had Lady Juliana dared to utter the wishes of that heart she would have
been at no loss for a reply; but she saw the necessity of dissimulation;
and after naming such of her admirers as were most indifferent to her,
she declared herself quite at a loss, and begged her father to put an
end to her suspense.

“Now, what would you think of the Duke of L—?” asked the Earl in a
voice of half-smothered exultation and delight.

“The Duke of L—–!” repeated Lady Juliana, with a scream of horror and
surprise; “surely, papa, you cannot be serious? Why, he’s red-haired and
squints, and he’s as old as you.”

“If he were as old as the devil, and as ugly too,” interrupted the
enraged Earl, “he should be your husband: and may I perish if you shall
have any other!”

The youthful beauty burst into tears, while her father traversed the
apartment with an inflamed and wrathful visage.

“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke,” sobbed the lovely
Juliana.

“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke!” repeated the Earl,
mimicking her, “they should not have had you. It has been my sole study,
ever since I saw your brother settled, to bring about this alliance;
and, when this is accomplished, my utmost ambition will be satisfied. So
no more whining–the affair is settled; and all that remains for you to
do is to study to make yourself agreeable to his Grace, and to sign the
settlements. No such mighty sacrifice, me thinks, when repaid with a
ducal coronet, the most splendid jewels, the finest equipages, and the
largest jointure of any woman in England.”

Lady Juliana raised her head, and wiped her eyes. Lord Courtland
perceived the effect his eloquence had produced upon the childish fancy
of his daughter, and continued to expatiate upon the splendid joys that
awaited her in a union with a nobleman of the Duke’s rank and fortune;
till at length, dazzled, if not convinced, she declared herself
“satisfied that it was her duty to marry whoever papa pleased; but–”
and a sigh escaped her as she contrasted her noble suitor with her
handsome lover: “but if I should marry him, papa, I am sure I shall
never be able to love him.”

The Earl smiled at her childish simplicity as he assured her that was
not at all necessary; that love was now entirely confined to the
canaille; that it was very well for ploughmen and dairymaids to marry
for love; but for a young woman of rank to think of such a thing was
plebeian in the extreme!

Lady Juliana did not entirely subscribe to the arguments of her father;
but the gay and glorious vision that floated in her brain stifled for a
while the pleadings of her heart; and with a sparkling eye and an
elastic step she hastened to prepare for the reception of the Duke.

For a few weeks the delusion lasted. Lady Juliana was flattered with the
homage she received as a future Duchess; she was delighted with the
�clat that attended her, and charmed with the daily presents
showered upon her by her noble suitor.

“Well, really, Favolle,” said she to her maid, one day, as she clasped
on her beautiful arm a resplendent bracelet, “it must be owned the Duke
has a most exquisite taste in trinkets; don’t you think so? And, do you
know, I don’t think him so very–very ugly. When we are married I mean
to make him get a Brutus, cork his eyebrows, and have a set of teeth.”
But just then the smiling eyes, curling hair, and finely formed person
of a certain captivating Scotsman rose to view in her mind’s eye; and,
with a peevish “pshaw!” she threw the bauble aside.

Educated for the sole purpose of forming a brilliant establishment, of
catching the eye, and captivating the senses, the cultivation of her
mind or the correction of her temper had formed no part of the system by
which that aim was to be accomplished. Under the auspices of a
fashionable mother and an obsequious governess the froward petulance of
childhood, fostered and strengthened by indulgence and submission, had
gradually ripened into that selfishness and caprice which now, in youth,
formed the prominent features of her character. The Earl was too much
engrossed by affairs of importance to pay much attention to anything so
perfectly insignificant as the mind of his daughter. Her person he had
predetermined should be entirely at his disposal, and therefore
contemplated with delight the uncommon beauty which already
distinguished it; not with the fond partiality of parental love, but
with the heartless satisfaction of a crafty politician.

The mind of Lady Juliana was consequently the sport of every passion
that by turns assailed it. Now swayed by ambition, and now softened by
love, the struggle was violent, but it was short. A few days before the
one which was to seal her fate she granted an interview to her lover,
who, young, thoughtless, and enamoured as herself, easily succeeded in
persuading her to elope with him to Scotland. There, at the altar of
Vulcan, the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Courtland gave her hand to
her handsome but penniless lover; and there vowed to immolate every
ambitious desire, every sentiment of vanity and high-born pride. Yet a
sigh arose as she looked on the filthy hut, sooty priest, and ragged
witnesses; and thought of the special license, splendid saloon, and
bridal pomp that would have attended her union with the Duke. But the
rapturous expressions which burst from the impassioned Douglas made her
forget the gaudy pleasures of pomp and fashion. Amid the sylvan scenes
of the neighbouring lakes the lovers sought a shelter; and, mutually
charmed with each other, time flew for a while on downy pinions.

At the end of two months, however, the enamoured husband began to
suspect that the lips of his “angel Julia” could utter very silly
things; while the fond bride, on her part, discovered that though her
“adored Henry’s” figure was symmetry itself, yet it certainly was
deficient in a certain air–a je ne sais quoi–that marks the man of
fashion.

“How I wish I had my pretty Cupid here,” said her Ladyship, with a sigh,
one day as she lolled on a sofa: “he had so many pretty tricks, he would
have helped to amuse us, and make the time pass; for really this place
grows very stupid and tiresome; don’t you think so, love?”

“Most confoundedly so, my darling,” replied her husband, yawning
sympathetically as he spoke.

“Then suppose I make one more attempt to soften papa, and be received
into favour again?”

“With all my heart.”

“Shall I say I’m very sorry for what I have done?” asked her Ladyship,
with a sigh. “You know I did not say that in my first letter.”

“Ay, do; and, if it will serve any purpose, you may say that I am no
less so.”

In a few days the letter was returned, in a blank cover; and, by the
same post, Douglas saw himself superseded in the Gazette, being absent
without leave!

There now remained but one course to pursue; and that was to seek refuge
at his father’s, in the Highlands of Scotland. At the first mention of
it Lady Juliana was transported with joy, and begged that a letter might
be instantly despatched, containing the offer of a visit: she had heard
the Duchess of M. declare nothing could be so delightful as the style of
living in Scotland: the people were so frank and gay, and the manners so
easy and engaging–oh! it was delightful! And then Lady Jane G. and Lady
Mary L., and a thousand other lords and ladies she knew, were all so
charmed with the country, and all so sorry to leave it. Then dear
Henry’s family must be so charming: an old castle, too, was her delight;
she would feel quite at home while wandering through its long galleries;
and she quite loved old pictures, and armour, and tapestry; and then her
thoughts reverted to her father’s magnificent mansion in D—shire.

At length an answer arrived, containing a cordial invitation from the
old Laird to spend the winter with them at Glenfern Castle.

All impatience to quit the scenes of their short lived felicity, they
bade a hasty adieu to the now fading beauties of Windermere; and, full
of hope and expectation, eagerly turned towards the bleak hills of
Scotland. They stopped for a short time at Edinburgh, to provide
themselves with a carriage, and some other necessaries. There, too, she
fortunately met with an English Abigail and footman, who, for double
wages, were prevailed upon to attend her to the Highlands; which, with
the addition of two dogs, a tame squirrel, and mackaw, completed the
establishment.
]]></description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Excerpt of <a href="">Marriage, a novel</a>, as retrived from the Internet Archive.</p>

<h2 id="prefatory-note">PREFATORY NOTE.</h2>

<p>MISS FERRIER’S Novels have, since their first appearance, suffered
curtailment in all subsequent Editions. The present Edition is the first
reprint from the original Editions, and contains the whole of the
omissions in other reprints. It is, therefore, the only perfect Edition
of these Novels.</p>

<p>Works which have received the praise of Sir Walter Scott and Sir James
Mackintosh, and been thought worthy of discussion in the <em>Noctes
Ambrosianae,</em> require no further introduction to the reader. The almost
exceptional position which they occupy as satirizing the foibles rather
than the more serious faults of human nature, and the caustic character
of that satire, mingled with such bright wit and genial humour, give
Miss Ferrier a place to herself in English fiction; and it is felt that
a time has come to recognize this by producing her works in a form which
fits them for the library, and in a type which enables them to be read
with enjoyment.</p>

<p>G.B.</p>

<p>NEW BURLINGTON STREET,</p>

<p><em>December, 1881.</em></p>

<h2 id="marriage">MARRIAGE.</h2>

<h3 id="chapter-i">CHAPTER I.</h3>

<blockquote>
  <p>“Love!–A word by superstition thought a God; by use turned to an
humour; by self-will made a flattering madness.”</p>

  <p><em>Alexander and Campaspe.</em></p>
</blockquote>

<p>“COME hither, child,” said the old Earl of Courtland to his daughter,
as, in obedience to his summons, she entered his study; “come hither, I
say; I wish to have some serious conversation with you: so dismiss your
dogs, shut the door, and sit down here.”</p>

<p>“Lady Juliana rang for the footman to take Venus; bade Pluto be quiet,
like a darling, under the sofa; and, taking Cupid in her arms, assured
his Lordship he need fear no disturbance from the sweet creatures, and
that she would be all attention to his commands–kissing her cherished
pug as she spoke.</p>

<p>“You are now, I think, seventeen, Juliana,” said his Lordship in a
solemn important tone.</p>

<p>“And a half, papa.”</p>

<p>“It is therefore time you should be thinking of establishing yourself in
the world. Have you ever turned your thoughts that way?”</p>

<p>Lady Juliana cast down her beautiful eyes, and was silent.</p>

<p>“As I can give you no fortune,” continued the Earl, swelling with
ill-suppressed importance, as he proceeded, “you have perhaps no great
pretensions to a very brilliant establishment.”</p>

<p>“Oh! none in the world, papa,” eagerly interrupted Lady Juliana; “a mere
competence with the man of my heart.”</p>

<p>“The man of a fiddlestick!” exclaimed Lord Courtland in a fury; “what
the devil have you to do with a heart, I should like to know? There’s no
talking to a young woman now about marriage, but she is all in a blaze
about hearts, and darts, and–and–But hark ye, child, I’ll suffer no
daughter of mine to play the fool with her heart, indeed! She shall
marry for the purpose for which matrimony was ordained amongst people of
birth–that is, for the aggrandisement of her family, the extending of
their political influence–for becoming, in short, the depository of
their mutual interest. These are the only purposes for which persons of
rank ever think of marriage. And pray, what has your heart to say to
that?”</p>

<p>“Nothing, papa,” replied Lady Juliana in a faint dejected tone of voice.
“Have done, Cupid!” addressing her favourite, who was amusing himself
in pulling and tearing the beautiful lace veil that partly shaded the
head of his fair mistress.</p>

<p>“I thought not,” resumed the Earl in a triumphant tone–“I thought not,
indeed.” And as this victory over his daughter put him in unusual good
humour, he condescended to sport a little with her curiosity.</p>

<p>“And pray, can this wonderful wise heart of yours inform you who it is
you are going to obtain for a husband?”</p>

<p>Had Lady Juliana dared to utter the wishes of that heart she would have
been at no loss for a reply; but she saw the necessity of dissimulation;
and after naming such of her admirers as were most indifferent to her,
she declared herself quite at a loss, and begged her father to put an
end to her suspense.</p>

<p>“Now, what would you think of the Duke of L—?” asked the Earl in a
voice of half-smothered exultation and delight.</p>

<p>“The Duke of L—–!” repeated Lady Juliana, with a scream of horror and
surprise; “surely, papa, you cannot be serious? Why, he’s red-haired and
squints, and he’s as old as you.”</p>

<p>“If he were as old as the devil, and as ugly too,” interrupted the
enraged Earl, “he should be your husband: and may I perish if you shall
have any other!”</p>

<p>The youthful beauty burst into tears, while her father traversed the
apartment with an inflamed and wrathful visage.</p>

<p>“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke,” sobbed the lovely
Juliana.</p>

<p>“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke!” repeated the Earl,
mimicking her, “they should not have had you. It has been my sole study,
ever since I saw your brother settled, to bring about this alliance;
and, when this is accomplished, my utmost ambition will be satisfied. So
no more whining–the affair is settled; and all that remains for you to
do is to study to make yourself agreeable to his Grace, and to sign the
settlements. No such mighty sacrifice, me thinks, when repaid with a
ducal coronet, the most splendid jewels, the finest equipages, and the
largest jointure of any woman in England.”</p>

<p>Lady Juliana raised her head, and wiped her eyes. Lord Courtland
perceived the effect his eloquence had produced upon the childish fancy
of his daughter, and continued to expatiate upon the splendid joys that
awaited her in a union with a nobleman of the Duke’s rank and fortune;
till at length, dazzled, if not convinced, she declared herself
“satisfied that it was her duty to marry whoever papa pleased; but–”
and a sigh escaped her as she contrasted her noble suitor with her
handsome lover: “but if I should marry him, papa, I am sure I shall
never be able to love him.”</p>

<p>The Earl smiled at her childish simplicity as he assured her that was
not at all necessary; that love was now entirely confined to the
<em>canaille;</em> that it was very well for ploughmen and dairymaids to marry
for love; but for a young woman of rank to think of such a thing was
plebeian in the extreme!</p>

<p>Lady Juliana did not entirely subscribe to the arguments of her father;
but the gay and glorious vision that floated in her brain stifled for a
while the pleadings of her heart; and with a sparkling eye and an
elastic step she hastened to prepare for the reception of the Duke.</p>

<p>For a few weeks the delusion lasted. Lady Juliana was flattered with the
homage she received as a future Duchess; she was delighted with the
�clat that attended her, and charmed with the daily presents
showered upon her by her noble suitor.</p>

<p>“Well, really, Favolle,” said she to her maid, one day, as she clasped
on her beautiful arm a resplendent bracelet, “it must be owned the Duke
has a most exquisite taste in trinkets; don’t you think so? And, do you
know, I don’t think him so very–very ugly. When we are married I mean
to make him get a Brutus, cork his eyebrows, and have a set of teeth.”
But just then the smiling eyes, curling hair, and finely formed person
of a certain captivating Scotsman rose to view in her mind’s eye; and,
with a peevish “pshaw!” she threw the bauble aside.</p>

<p>Educated for the sole purpose of forming a brilliant establishment, of
catching the eye, and captivating the senses, the cultivation of her
mind or the correction of her temper had formed no part of the system by
which that aim was to be accomplished. Under the auspices of a
fashionable mother and an obsequious governess the froward petulance of
childhood, fostered and strengthened by indulgence and submission, had
gradually ripened into that selfishness and caprice which now, in youth,
formed the prominent features of her character. The Earl was too much
engrossed by affairs of importance to pay much attention to anything so
perfectly insignificant as the mind of his daughter. Her <em>person</em> he had
predetermined should be entirely at his disposal, and therefore
contemplated with delight the uncommon beauty which already
distinguished it; not with the fond partiality of parental love, but
with the heartless satisfaction of a crafty politician.</p>

<p>The mind of Lady Juliana was consequently the sport of every passion
that by turns assailed it. Now swayed by ambition, and now softened by
love, the struggle was violent, but it was short. A few days before the
one which was to seal her fate she granted an interview to her lover,
who, young, thoughtless, and enamoured as herself, easily succeeded in
persuading her to elope with him to Scotland. There, at the altar of
Vulcan, the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Courtland gave her hand to
her handsome but penniless lover; and there vowed to immolate every
ambitious desire, every sentiment of vanity and high-born pride. Yet a
sigh arose as she looked on the filthy hut, sooty priest, and ragged
witnesses; and thought of the special license, splendid saloon, and
bridal pomp that would have attended her union with the Duke. But the
rapturous expressions which burst from the impassioned Douglas made her
forget the gaudy pleasures of pomp and fashion. Amid the sylvan scenes
of the neighbouring lakes the lovers sought a shelter; and, mutually
charmed with each other, time flew for a while on downy pinions.</p>

<p>At the end of two months, however, the enamoured husband began to
suspect that the lips of his “angel Julia” could utter very silly
things; while the fond bride, on her part, discovered that though her
“adored Henry’s” figure was symmetry itself, yet it certainly was
deficient in a certain air–a <em>je ne sais quoi</em>–that marks the man of
fashion.</p>

<p>“How I wish I had my pretty Cupid here,” said her Ladyship, with a sigh,
one day as she lolled on a sofa: “he had so many pretty tricks, he would
have helped to amuse us, and make the time pass; for really this place
grows very stupid and tiresome; don’t you think so, love?”</p>

<p>“Most confoundedly so, my darling,” replied her husband, yawning
sympathetically as he spoke.</p>

<p>“Then suppose I make one more attempt to soften papa, and be received
into favour again?”</p>

<p>“With all my heart.”</p>

<p>“Shall I say I’m very sorry for what I have done?” asked her Ladyship,
with a sigh. “You know I did not say that in my first letter.”</p>

<p>“Ay, do; and, if it will serve any purpose, you may say that I am no
less so.”</p>

<p>In a few days the letter was returned, in a blank cover; and, by the
same post, Douglas saw himself superseded in the Gazette, being absent
without leave!</p>

<p>There now remained but one course to pursue; and that was to seek refuge
at his father’s, in the Highlands of Scotland. At the first mention of
it Lady Juliana was transported with joy, and begged that a letter might
be instantly despatched, containing the offer of a visit: she had heard
the Duchess of M. declare nothing could be so delightful as the style of
living in Scotland: the people were so frank and gay, and the manners so
easy and engaging–oh! it was delightful! And then Lady Jane G. and Lady
Mary L., and a thousand other lords and ladies she knew, were all so
charmed with the country, and all so sorry to leave it. Then dear
Henry’s family must be so charming: an old castle, too, was her delight;
she would feel quite at home while wandering through its long galleries;
and she quite loved old pictures, and armour, and tapestry; and then her
thoughts reverted to her father’s magnificent mansion in D—shire.</p>

<p>At length an answer arrived, containing a cordial invitation from the
old Laird to spend the winter with them at Glenfern Castle.</p>

<p>All impatience to quit the scenes of their short lived felicity, they
bade a hasty adieu to the now fading beauties of Windermere; and, full
of hope and expectation, eagerly turned towards the bleak hills of
Scotland. They stopped for a short time at Edinburgh, to provide
themselves with a carriage, and some other necessaries. There, too, she
fortunately met with an English Abigail and footman, who, for double
wages, were prevailed upon to attend her to the Highlands; which, with
the addition of two dogs, a tame squirrel, and mackaw, completed the
establishment.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
    </item>
  
    <item>
      <title>Example post</title>
      <link>http://shelbybrad.com/blog/example-post/</link>
      <pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00 UTC</pubDate>
      
        
        <dc:creator>Brad Czerniak</dc:creator>
      
      
      
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://shelbybrad.com/blog/example-post/</guid>
      <description><![CDATA[Solutis longo nostri usus

Lorem markdownum avita mulcebat virtute. Similemque membra Ismenis ne visa
serpentis populis? Cum omnia, et nec aethere aetas cui patria pacisci. Muneris
fertur resistit me pariter sanguine: poteram
modo secum, oderat marmoreamque quis; per.

if (packDay(num_cpa_surface, 73, worm_address_dbms) == noc_ivr) {
  wheel.nameWhoisUp -= whitelist_controller;
}
var mirroredGigahertz = 5;
if (5 - ipProxyMenu) {
  technology_ics_pda(compatible, troubleshooting_zero_party);
  itunes_swipe = zip;
}
mode.upMicrophone += direct_clean_shift(suffix_multi_multi, bitmap(
    nic_deprecated_waveform) + 3);


Qui viae vertuntur linguae

Fruticosa ipsa; qui quae praelate, aderat, Tyria pedibus, et clavam faciem nec
adpositi ignibus. Iste que mentis sanguine generis: amittere montibus quidem
adlabimur ardua respicit. Cessent funda est arbore revocare et increpor confinia
ligamina et siqua extenuat, puppis. Sine deus domos formosa et obicit Proximus
Opem digna de, sed. Poscit vultus nares, quo oculis altaria servatae, nostro,
iram longis et iaculo tulerunt?

Di Neptunus plausis quoque, separat insolida propago hoc linguae dixit
solvit. Qui quas animo quod filius carpat vindicet illos, matre vehebat sis.
Cuncti opprimere ferebam?

Enim ignes tam primum

Est paelice diversorum iaculum segetis virque has erat, nunc. Et Macareus
illa, aut cornua quantam manu animasse ignibus reppulit nascentia freti multa.
Cum hunc, turpes!

Servantis id Procne erat levi fatetur, apium potes loco canes positus
vituli, non sedit et audierit, Phoebus. Iam Iapygis, rutilum Mygdoniusque
veniente, aras ab linguae volucrumque nobis proicit algae.

Ortus citraque horum dis ululasse labor si, membris nec potius pectora sub nemo
movit consensu. Per ante, gerit, prospiciunt fortunata per vallibus Osiris
commune crines, prius actis tellure sed quam
neque.

Ingens saecula habendam umbrosum carcere Polydore devotaque

Lorem markdownum auras. In quaque hoc loqui, si tamen dea additus; perque.

Venit destrinxit cum

Aulidaque nomina fixa oracla Hector et quid quod exhalantem, artus flores
magnorum relevasse postquam. Ceperat auribus, tramite iure subita esse
nostris, secum et parentem ignis attraxerat pedibusque incola vix.

Altera tenebrosa tu flores virginibus frangitur crevit iactatibus
hoc silentia! Quod massa fontis faticano, da cum huc sensi tum?

Et nec iecit

Lucifero dici biiugum est novissimus caret virtus qui quoque ecce? Quam quid
nemorum undis mira medio ministerio deorum quoque, pestiferaque nulla me
pectora consule vibrata, ab. Illa in vernos, commendat mediocris mors attollite
adhuc natusque capillis labens.

Capaci fluit

Namque tellus silentia dabat loquerentur, aras deus feremus corpora. Vir salutat
Iamque. Certa rustica vigilans nisi vestem taurum. Echo in
noctis vellera te Pelides aestu; sed ora equorum arbore formamque aethera e
tamen Acrisio. Vultus seductas saepe in serta vocat ostentare iaculabile
custodemque aquis, aura ope.


  Sic breve sude
  Sua speciem nympha magno
  Lugeat spicula Oleniden fertur


Veloque filia et obsisto

Per ter, ante tua. Quoque venientem quae. Flet exstabant Inachus
truncum praeferrer magnosque pudici vacca rogat; Oileos sine
secantes et.


  Et caede
  Amat et veluti dextris corpore depresso voco
  Transibat prensos suae serta
  Viribus diros


Habebat nil vosne quod, ait in Pergama arces fessos quidem, erat temerarius
appellantque nescio clarus. Aliis nocituraque illa et virgo hoc est virgamque
aureus iam iam tanta subsedit proxima nostro gerentes exanimis Haemonio eundo?
Et me ineo longius. Nereidum ut murmure infans dolorque disces tamen mariti.
]]></description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<h2 id="solutis-longo-nostri-usus">Solutis longo nostri usus</h2>

<p>Lorem markdownum avita mulcebat virtute. Similemque membra Ismenis ne visa
serpentis populis? Cum omnia, et nec aethere aetas cui patria pacisci. Muneris
fertur resistit me pariter sanguine: <a href="#estdeae">poteram</a>
modo secum, oderat marmoreamque quis; per.</p>

<div class="language-plaintext highlighter-rouge"><div class="highlight"><pre class="highlight"><code>if (packDay(num_cpa_surface, 73, worm_address_dbms) == noc_ivr) {
  wheel.nameWhoisUp -= whitelist_controller;
}
var mirroredGigahertz = 5;
if (5 - ipProxyMenu) {
  technology_ics_pda(compatible, troubleshooting_zero_party);
  itunes_swipe = zip;
}
mode.upMicrophone += direct_clean_shift(suffix_multi_multi, bitmap(
    nic_deprecated_waveform) + 3);
</code></pre></div></div>

<h2 id="qui-viae-vertuntur-linguae">Qui viae vertuntur linguae</h2>

<p>Fruticosa ipsa; qui quae praelate, aderat, Tyria pedibus, et clavam faciem nec
adpositi ignibus. Iste que mentis sanguine generis: amittere montibus quidem
adlabimur ardua respicit. Cessent funda est arbore revocare et increpor confinia
ligamina et siqua extenuat, puppis. Sine deus domos formosa et obicit Proximus
Opem digna de, sed. Poscit vultus nares, quo oculis altaria servatae, nostro,
iram longis <strong>et iaculo tulerunt</strong>?</p>

<p>Di <strong>Neptunus</strong> plausis quoque, separat insolida propago hoc linguae dixit
solvit. Qui quas animo <strong>quod filius carpat</strong> vindicet illos, matre vehebat sis.
Cuncti opprimere ferebam?</p>

<h2 id="enim-ignes-tam-primum">Enim ignes tam primum</h2>

<p>Est paelice diversorum iaculum segetis <em>virque has</em> erat, nunc. Et <strong>Macareus
illa</strong>, aut cornua quantam manu animasse ignibus reppulit nascentia freti multa.
Cum hunc, turpes!</p>

<p>Servantis <strong>id Procne erat</strong> levi fatetur, apium potes loco canes positus
vituli, non sedit et audierit, Phoebus. Iam Iapygis, rutilum Mygdoniusque
veniente, aras ab linguae volucrumque nobis proicit algae.</p>

<p>Ortus citraque horum dis ululasse labor si, membris nec potius pectora sub nemo
movit consensu. Per ante, gerit, prospiciunt fortunata per vallibus Osiris
commune crines, prius actis <a href="#fulgorem-arescere.io">tellure sed quam</a>
neque.</p>

<h2 id="ingens-saecula-habendam-umbrosum-carcere-polydore-devotaque">Ingens saecula habendam umbrosum carcere Polydore devotaque</h2>

<p>Lorem markdownum auras. In quaque hoc loqui, si tamen dea additus; perque.</p>

<h2 id="venit-destrinxit-cum">Venit destrinxit cum</h2>

<p>Aulidaque nomina fixa oracla Hector <em>et quid</em> quod exhalantem, artus flores
magnorum relevasse postquam. Ceperat auribus, tramite iure subita <em>esse
nostris</em>, secum et parentem ignis attraxerat pedibusque incola vix.</p>

<p>Altera tenebrosa tu <a href="#per-quod">flores virginibus</a> frangitur crevit iactatibus
hoc silentia! Quod massa fontis faticano, da cum huc sensi tum?</p>

<h2 id="et-nec-iecit">Et nec iecit</h2>

<p>Lucifero dici biiugum est <strong>novissimus caret virtus</strong> qui quoque ecce? Quam quid
nemorum undis mira <strong>medio ministerio deorum</strong> quoque, pestiferaque nulla me
pectora consule vibrata, ab. Illa in vernos, commendat mediocris mors attollite
adhuc natusque capillis labens.</p>

<h2 id="capaci-fluit">Capaci fluit</h2>

<p>Namque tellus silentia dabat loquerentur, aras deus feremus corpora. Vir salutat
Iamque. <a href="#ingratasque-timor">Certa rustica</a> vigilans nisi vestem taurum. Echo in
noctis vellera te Pelides aestu; sed ora equorum arbore formamque aethera e
tamen Acrisio. Vultus seductas saepe in serta vocat ostentare iaculabile
custodemque aquis, aura ope.</p>

<ul>
  <li>Sic breve sude</li>
  <li>Sua speciem nympha magno</li>
  <li>Lugeat spicula Oleniden fertur</li>
</ul>

<h2 id="veloque-filia-et-obsisto">Veloque filia et obsisto</h2>

<p>Per ter, ante tua. Quoque venientem quae. Flet exstabant <a href="#levis-mox-hoc">Inachus
truncum</a> praeferrer magnosque pudici vacca rogat; Oileos sine
secantes et.</p>

<ol>
  <li>Et caede</li>
  <li>Amat et veluti dextris corpore depresso voco</li>
  <li>Transibat prensos suae serta</li>
  <li>Viribus diros</li>
</ol>

<p>Habebat nil vosne quod, ait in Pergama arces fessos quidem, erat temerarius
appellantque nescio clarus. Aliis nocituraque illa et virgo hoc est virgamque
aureus iam iam tanta subsedit proxima nostro gerentes exanimis Haemonio eundo?
Et me ineo longius. Nereidum ut murmure infans dolorque disces tamen mariti.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
    </item>
  
    <item>
      <title>Wedding Ceremonies</title>
      <link>http://shelbybrad.com/blog/wedding-ceremonies-vedantist/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 22 Jul 1968 00:00:00 UTC</pubDate>
      
        
        <dc:creator>Brad Czerniak</dc:creator>
      
      
      
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://shelbybrad.com/blog/wedding-ceremonies-vedantist/</guid>
      <description><![CDATA[Excerpt from Wedding Ceremonies by Vedantist, as
retrieved from the Internet Archive.

680722WL.MON

Paramananda &amp;amp; Satyabhama’s Wedding, Montreal, July 22, 1968

Prabhupada: Gurudasa, you don’t feel?

Gurudasa: Yes, very good.

Prabhupada: This last verse… It is not last. It is the third of Brahma-sutra, Brahma-sarhhita. Alola-
candraka-lasad-vanamalya-varhsT-ratnangadarh pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam [Bs. 5.31], This verse…
There are about one hundred verses in the Brahma-sarhhita, and this verse, I think, about thirty-
eighth verse… So description of Govinda, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The picture is
here. So Govinda is not impersonal. And it is distinctly stated here that alola-candraka-lasad-
vanamalya-varhsl: [Bs. 5.31] “The Lord is decorated with flower garland, and He has got a flute in
His hands.” And pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam: “And He is engaged in transcendental, conjugal love,
Radha and Krsna.” So this love which is in our experience within this material world, man and
woman, it is not unnatural. It is in God also there. And the Brahma-sutra, Vedanta-sutra, in the
beginning says that “Who is Brahman, the Supreme Person or the Absolute Truth?” Athato
brahma jijnasa, questioning “What is that Absolute Truth?” The answer is janmady asya yatah:

[SB 1.1.1] “The Absolute Truth is that from whom everything emanates.” Very simple definition.
That means the fountainhead of everything, the source of everything. Therefore here in this
material world we see that the attraction for man and woman, woman’s attraction for man, man’s
attraction for woman, is so prominent. Not only in human society, but in other than: animal society,
cat society, dog society, bird society, there is always the attraction, man and woman, or male and
female. Why? The answer is in the Vedanta-sutra: janmady asya yatah [SB 1.1.1], Because it is
there in the Absolute Truth. Without being present in the Absolute Truth, how it can be manifested
in the relative truth?

This world is called relative world. It is not Absolute. Relative. Difference, two, duality. We cannot
understand a man without knowing a woman. We cannot understand father without understanding
a son or a mother. Relativity. But in Absolute world, everything is one. So this love between male
and female, conjugal love, we Vaisnava philosophers… Because everyone, according to Vedic
system, everyone has to follow the Vedanta-sutra. There are two section of philosophers in India,
approved; not, I mean to say, manufactured philosopher, mental speculators, but actually those
who are counted valuable. There are two classes of philosophers, namely the impersonalist and
personalist. The Vaisnava, they accept that the Absolute Truth is person, and the MayavadT
philosophers, they say that Absolute Truth is impersonal. That is the difference. Otherwise their
process of other paraphernalia, execution of understanding, is almost the same. Now our
Vaisnava philosopher’s argument is that how the Absolute Truth can be impersonal? Because
here, in this world, in our experience, we see everything personal. So unless the personality, the

individuality, or the individual attraction is there in the Absolute Truth, how they can be
represented here in the relative truth?

So apart from that argumental point of view, our presentation is that this conjugal love between
man and woman is not unnatural. It is quite natural because it is in the Absolute Truth, as we find
from Vedic description, that the Absolute Truth, Personality of Godhead, is engaged in conjugal
loving affairs, Radha-Krsna. But the same Radha-Krsna love matter has permeated through
matter. Therefore it is perverted reflection. Here in this material world, the so-called love is not
actual love. It is lust. Here the male and female are attracted not by love but by lust. So in this
Krsna consciousness society, because we are trying to approach the Absolute Truth, the lust
propensity has to be converted into pure love. That is the proposal. So in India still, amongst the
strict followers of Vedic principles, this lust affair is adjusted spiritually. What is that? The boys and
girls, they are not allowed free mixing before marriage. Especially… Both the boys… Here, one of
our students, he was in India, and he tried to talk with a young girl on the street, and he (she) was
insulted. He was surprised. Because the practice is there that no young boy or young girl can talk
with… Of course, now it is different. Even up to our young time we have seen that without being
married, no girl, no boy, could mix together. So this lust affair, this attraction, was little bit
controlled. The father, the parents of the girl, and the parents of the boy would select. They had
no personal selection. And that selection was made very scientifically, taking the horoscope of the
girl, taking the horoscope of the boy, and calculating, “How this boy and girl will amalgamate?

How their lives will be happy?” So many things, they were considered. And when everything was
settled, then the marriage would take place. That is the system of old Indian, Vedic principle. And
so far free love is concerned, as we understand, that was allowed only very in high circles,
princely order. Because the girls were educated and grown up and she was given to select her
husband, but not directly. We find in so many historical evidences from the Vedic literature that the
girl used to express her desire that “I want to marry with that boy,” and the father… This was
amongst the ksatriyas, the princely order, not with others. And the father would give a challenge, a
bet. And if somebody will come and become victorious, then the girl would be offered. That was in
special cases.

Anyway in this age, marriage, according to our Vaisnava principles, marriage is allowed because
there is male, there is female. Why they should not unite? But not illegally. So when I came in this
country in New York, the boys and girls, they were coming, and some of them offered me to
become disciples. So I saw that most of the boys and girls, they are keeping the boyfriend,
girlfriend. So I requested them that if you want to make progress in spiritual life, you have to
refrain from four kinds of sinful activities, and these four kinds of sinful activities are illicit sex life,
first; second, nonvegetarian diet; third, intoxication; fourth, gambling. Unless one is free from
these four principal activities, one cannot make progress in spiritual life. Because God is pure,
pavitrarh paramarh bhavan, so no impure soul can approach Him. This body is the sign of impurity
because soul has no material body. So anyone in this material world who has this material body is
to be considered as sinful. But how to get out of this? To get out of it, everything, dovetailing with
spiritual life. Nirbandhe krsna-sambandhe yukta-vairagyam ucyate. The example is just like milk.

If you take too much milk, then there will be disorders in the bowels. You’ll have to pass so many
stools. But when you approach to a physician… Of course, I am speaking of the Ayur-Vedic Indian
physician. If one has got diarrhea or loose bowels, then the physician prescribes curd or yogurt
with some medicine. Now, this yogurt or curd is also mixed with medicine. So the man who has
got the disease by drinking milk is also cured by the same milk preparation under the direction of
the physician. Nobody can argue. The patient cannot argue to the physician that “I have become
diseased by drinking milk, and you are prescribing another preparation of the milk?” Yes, because

it is treated. Similarly, this lust propensity between man and woman, if it is properly treated, then it
can turn into love of Godhead.

So I am a sannyasl. I have renounced my family life. I have got my children, my grandchildren, I
have my wife still living, but I have separated from them. This is called sannyasa. Why I am taking
interest again, this family life of my students? Because I want to see them properly progress
towards spiritual life. Therefore, although it is not the business of a sannyasl to take part in
marriage ceremony, in this country, just to save my students, both boys and girls, from sinful
activities, I am personally taking interest that they may become good gentleman and lady by
marriage. So I am very happy that those boys and girls who have agreed, and they are now
married and getting children, and they are feeling very happy. Many of them are present in this
meeting. From their face, from their activities, it appears that they are very happy. So in this Krsna
consciousness society we have got this program that if some boy or girl wants to get married, I
help. So this marriage ceremony is today arranged on that principle. But the present bride and
bridegroom must know it certainly that this marriage is not for sense gratification. This marriage is
for purification of life. So there is no question of divorce. There is no question of separation. So
don’t get into married life if you have got such propensity. Our first principle is to become Krsna
conscious, and other things, secondary. Putrarthe kriyate bharya. If you can produce nice
children, Krsna conscious children, it will, you will do greatest service to the human society.
Because the human society is producing children like cats and dogs, the whole human society is
in trouble. How you can expect peace and prosperity in the society of cats and dogs? Therefore
there is necessity. There is necessity to produce children of Krsna consciousness, to train them
from the very beginning. You will be all glad to know that some of our students, very small boys in
San Francisco, they are being trained, and they are making wonderful progress. So there is no
fault of these hippie boys and girls. They have not been trained. Not only here, every part of the
world, the educational system is not very satisfactory. From the very beginning of their life they are
allowed to mix freely, and they are allowed to enjoy sex life unrestricted. This is neither good for
their health nor for education. So therefore we are getting now the result of education:
communists and hippies. So people, those who are guardians of the society, should take serious
note of it and make life very regulated.

What is…? The necessities of this life is, because we have got this material body, we must eat, we
must sleep, we must defend, and we must mate. These are the demands of this body. But they
should be so regulated in Krsna consciousness that it will not be disturbing element, but we shall
make progress further and further towards spiritual realization of Krsna consciousness. Therefore,
not only the new bride and bridegroom, I request every one of my students who are present that
this… The aim of married life is to produce nice children, Krsna conscious children. That is the
best service to the human society: produce nice children. Don’t produce cats and dogs. That is my
request. Otherwise don’t produce. Remain separate. Separate means there is no separation, but
don’t produce children. That is my request. Putrarthe… Pita na sa syaj jananl sa syat. The
Bhagavata says, “One should not become a father, one should not become a mother, unless they
are able to protect the children from the imminent danger of death.” What is that? The cycle of
birth and death. If you can train your children to Krsna consciousness, then your child will go back
to Godhead in this life. That should be the aim. As you will try to go back to Godhead in this life,
similarly, you shall take charge of your children that he can also go in this life back to Godhead.
The mother’s and father’s duty should be that “This child is born out of my womb, and this is the
last phase of his life, to come into this womb of any animal or man—no more material body.” That
should be the responsibility of father and mother. That is the direction of Bhagavata.

So my dear children, boys and girls, I request you that live happily. There is no restriction. We
don’t restrict eating, sleeping, or mating, or defending. But do it in relationship with Krsna, pure
life, and be happy in this life and next life.

Thank you very much. Now come forward. I shall begin our… Where is your father and mother?
You can please come here. Yes. You can sit down here with the girls. Or give them some pads.
They will feel… They are not accustomed to sit. (chuckles) Yes. My disciples, they have been
accustomed, (chuckles)

Satyabhama: Paramananda’s parents are here also.

Prabhupada: Yes. Let them come also.

Satyabhama: (aside:) Would you like to sit on cushions?

Prabhupada: So both the parents agree in this marriage.

Satyabhama’s father: Yes.

Prabhupada: Oh, thank you. Now those who are initiated, you can chant Hare Krsna on your
beads, (devotees chant japa) [break] (recitation of fire sacrifice prayers)

Prabhupada: Now, you are father?

Satyabhama’s father: Yes.

Prabhupada: So you can say to your son-in-law that “So long my daughter such and such was
under my custody. From today I am giving this daughter under your custody.” Say it.

Satyabhama’s father: Kate has been under me until now, and I give her unto your custody.

Prabhupada: You say, “Yes, I accept.”

Paramananda: Yes, I accept.

Prabhupada: And you say, “Yes, I agree.”

Paramananda’s father: Yes, I agree.

Prabhupada: Now you say that “My dear such and such, I agree to serve you throughout my life.”
Satyabhama: Paramananda, I agree to serve you throughout my life.

Prabhupada: And you say, “My dear such and such, I take your charge of life throughout without
hesitation.”

Paramananda: My dear Satyabhama, I take your charge of life throughout without hesitation.

Prabhupada: So there is no separation in any circumstances. Promise that. There is no
separation in any circumstances.

Paramananda: So there is no separation in any circumstances.

Prabhupada: Yes. Now you garland this… You change the garland. Now you come to this side.
You go to that side. Now you are legal husband and wife. Is that all right? Yes. Now chant Hare
Krsna. [break] (prayers, fire sacrifice) Now offer this plantain like this, slowly. Thank you.

Satyabhama: Hare Krsna. (devotees repeat last prayer of sacrifice after Prabhupada, the maha-
mantra.)

Prabhupada: Now bow down, (leads in recitation of pranama mantra) You chant Hare Krsna.
(end)
]]></description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Excerpt from <a href="https://archive.org/details/WeddingCeremonies_201901/mode/2up">Wedding Ceremonies</a> by Vedantist, as
retrieved from the Internet Archive.</p>

<h2 id="680722wlmon">680722WL.MON</h2>

<p>Paramananda &amp; Satyabhama’s Wedding, Montreal, July 22, 1968</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Gurudasa, you don’t feel?</p>

<p>Gurudasa: Yes, very good.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: This last verse… It is not last. It is the third of Brahma-sutra, Brahma-sarhhita. Alola-
candraka-lasad-vanamalya-varhsT-ratnangadarh pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam [Bs. 5.31], This verse…
There are about one hundred verses in the Brahma-sarhhita, and this verse, I think, about thirty-
eighth verse… So description of Govinda, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The picture is
here. So Govinda is not impersonal. And it is distinctly stated here that alola-candraka-lasad-
vanamalya-varhsl: [Bs. 5.31] “The Lord is decorated with flower garland, and He has got a flute in
His hands.” And pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam: “And He is engaged in transcendental, conjugal love,
Radha and Krsna.” So this love which is in our experience within this material world, man and
woman, it is not unnatural. It is in God also there. And the Brahma-sutra, Vedanta-sutra, in the
beginning says that “Who is Brahman, the Supreme Person or the Absolute Truth?” Athato
brahma jijnasa, questioning “What is that Absolute Truth?” The answer is janmady asya yatah:</p>

<p>[SB 1.1.1] “The Absolute Truth is that from whom everything emanates.” Very simple definition.
That means the fountainhead of everything, the source of everything. Therefore here in this
material world we see that the attraction for man and woman, woman’s attraction for man, man’s
attraction for woman, is so prominent. Not only in human society, but in other than: animal society,
cat society, dog society, bird society, there is always the attraction, man and woman, or male and
female. Why? The answer is in the Vedanta-sutra: janmady asya yatah [SB 1.1.1], Because it is
there in the Absolute Truth. Without being present in the Absolute Truth, how it can be manifested
in the relative truth?</p>

<p>This world is called relative world. It is not Absolute. Relative. Difference, two, duality. We cannot
understand a man without knowing a woman. We cannot understand father without understanding
a son or a mother. Relativity. But in Absolute world, everything is one. So this love between male
and female, conjugal love, we Vaisnava philosophers… Because everyone, according to Vedic
system, everyone has to follow the Vedanta-sutra. There are two section of philosophers in India,
approved; not, I mean to say, manufactured philosopher, mental speculators, but actually those
who are counted valuable. There are two classes of philosophers, namely the impersonalist and
personalist. The Vaisnava, they accept that the Absolute Truth is person, and the MayavadT
philosophers, they say that Absolute Truth is impersonal. That is the difference. Otherwise their
process of other paraphernalia, execution of understanding, is almost the same. Now our
Vaisnava philosopher’s argument is that how the Absolute Truth can be impersonal? Because
here, in this world, in our experience, we see everything personal. So unless the personality, the</p>

<p>individuality, or the individual attraction is there in the Absolute Truth, how they can be
represented here in the relative truth?</p>

<p>So apart from that argumental point of view, our presentation is that this conjugal love between
man and woman is not unnatural. It is quite natural because it is in the Absolute Truth, as we find
from Vedic description, that the Absolute Truth, Personality of Godhead, is engaged in conjugal
loving affairs, Radha-Krsna. But the same Radha-Krsna love matter has permeated through
matter. Therefore it is perverted reflection. Here in this material world, the so-called love is not
actual love. It is lust. Here the male and female are attracted not by love but by lust. So in this
Krsna consciousness society, because we are trying to approach the Absolute Truth, the lust
propensity has to be converted into pure love. That is the proposal. So in India still, amongst the
strict followers of Vedic principles, this lust affair is adjusted spiritually. What is that? The boys and
girls, they are not allowed free mixing before marriage. Especially… Both the boys… Here, one of
our students, he was in India, and he tried to talk with a young girl on the street, and he (she) was
insulted. He was surprised. Because the practice is there that no young boy or young girl can talk
with… Of course, now it is different. Even up to our young time we have seen that without being
married, no girl, no boy, could mix together. So this lust affair, this attraction, was little bit
controlled. The father, the parents of the girl, and the parents of the boy would select. They had
no personal selection. And that selection was made very scientifically, taking the horoscope of the
girl, taking the horoscope of the boy, and calculating, “How this boy and girl will amalgamate?</p>

<p>How their lives will be happy?” So many things, they were considered. And when everything was
settled, then the marriage would take place. That is the system of old Indian, Vedic principle. And
so far free love is concerned, as we understand, that was allowed only very in high circles,
princely order. Because the girls were educated and grown up and she was given to select her
husband, but not directly. We find in so many historical evidences from the Vedic literature that the
girl used to express her desire that “I want to marry with that boy,” and the father… This was
amongst the ksatriyas, the princely order, not with others. And the father would give a challenge, a
bet. And if somebody will come and become victorious, then the girl would be offered. That was in
special cases.</p>

<p>Anyway in this age, marriage, according to our Vaisnava principles, marriage is allowed because
there is male, there is female. Why they should not unite? But not illegally. So when I came in this
country in New York, the boys and girls, they were coming, and some of them offered me to
become disciples. So I saw that most of the boys and girls, they are keeping the boyfriend,
girlfriend. So I requested them that if you want to make progress in spiritual life, you have to
refrain from four kinds of sinful activities, and these four kinds of sinful activities are illicit sex life,
first; second, nonvegetarian diet; third, intoxication; fourth, gambling. Unless one is free from
these four principal activities, one cannot make progress in spiritual life. Because God is pure,
pavitrarh paramarh bhavan, so no impure soul can approach Him. This body is the sign of impurity
because soul has no material body. So anyone in this material world who has this material body is
to be considered as sinful. But how to get out of this? To get out of it, everything, dovetailing with
spiritual life. Nirbandhe krsna-sambandhe yukta-vairagyam ucyate. The example is just like milk.</p>

<p>If you take too much milk, then there will be disorders in the bowels. You’ll have to pass so many
stools. But when you approach to a physician… Of course, I am speaking of the Ayur-Vedic Indian
physician. If one has got diarrhea or loose bowels, then the physician prescribes curd or yogurt
with some medicine. Now, this yogurt or curd is also mixed with medicine. So the man who has
got the disease by drinking milk is also cured by the same milk preparation under the direction of
the physician. Nobody can argue. The patient cannot argue to the physician that “I have become
diseased by drinking milk, and you are prescribing another preparation of the milk?” Yes, because</p>

<p>it is treated. Similarly, this lust propensity between man and woman, if it is properly treated, then it
can turn into love of Godhead.</p>

<p>So I am a sannyasl. I have renounced my family life. I have got my children, my grandchildren, I
have my wife still living, but I have separated from them. This is called sannyasa. Why I am taking
interest again, this family life of my students? Because I want to see them properly progress
towards spiritual life. Therefore, although it is not the business of a sannyasl to take part in
marriage ceremony, in this country, just to save my students, both boys and girls, from sinful
activities, I am personally taking interest that they may become good gentleman and lady by
marriage. So I am very happy that those boys and girls who have agreed, and they are now
married and getting children, and they are feeling very happy. Many of them are present in this
meeting. From their face, from their activities, it appears that they are very happy. So in this Krsna
consciousness society we have got this program that if some boy or girl wants to get married, I
help. So this marriage ceremony is today arranged on that principle. But the present bride and
bridegroom must know it certainly that this marriage is not for sense gratification. This marriage is
for purification of life. So there is no question of divorce. There is no question of separation. So
don’t get into married life if you have got such propensity. Our first principle is to become Krsna
conscious, and other things, secondary. Putrarthe kriyate bharya. If you can produce nice
children, Krsna conscious children, it will, you will do greatest service to the human society.
Because the human society is producing children like cats and dogs, the whole human society is
in trouble. How you can expect peace and prosperity in the society of cats and dogs? Therefore
there is necessity. There is necessity to produce children of Krsna consciousness, to train them
from the very beginning. You will be all glad to know that some of our students, very small boys in
San Francisco, they are being trained, and they are making wonderful progress. So there is no
fault of these hippie boys and girls. They have not been trained. Not only here, every part of the
world, the educational system is not very satisfactory. From the very beginning of their life they are
allowed to mix freely, and they are allowed to enjoy sex life unrestricted. This is neither good for
their health nor for education. So therefore we are getting now the result of education:
communists and hippies. So people, those who are guardians of the society, should take serious
note of it and make life very regulated.</p>

<p>What is…? The necessities of this life is, because we have got this material body, we must eat, we
must sleep, we must defend, and we must mate. These are the demands of this body. But they
should be so regulated in Krsna consciousness that it will not be disturbing element, but we shall
make progress further and further towards spiritual realization of Krsna consciousness. Therefore,
not only the new bride and bridegroom, I request every one of my students who are present that
this… The aim of married life is to produce nice children, Krsna conscious children. That is the
best service to the human society: produce nice children. Don’t produce cats and dogs. That is my
request. Otherwise don’t produce. Remain separate. Separate means there is no separation, but
don’t produce children. That is my request. Putrarthe… Pita na sa syaj jananl sa syat. The
Bhagavata says, “One should not become a father, one should not become a mother, unless they
are able to protect the children from the imminent danger of death.” What is that? The cycle of
birth and death. If you can train your children to Krsna consciousness, then your child will go back
to Godhead in this life. That should be the aim. As you will try to go back to Godhead in this life,
similarly, you shall take charge of your children that he can also go in this life back to Godhead.
The mother’s and father’s duty should be that “This child is born out of my womb, and this is the
last phase of his life, to come into this womb of any animal or man—no more material body.” That
should be the responsibility of father and mother. That is the direction of Bhagavata.</p>

<p>So my dear children, boys and girls, I request you that live happily. There is no restriction. We
don’t restrict eating, sleeping, or mating, or defending. But do it in relationship with Krsna, pure
life, and be happy in this life and next life.</p>

<p>Thank you very much. Now come forward. I shall begin our… Where is your father and mother?
You can please come here. Yes. You can sit down here with the girls. Or give them some pads.
They will feel… They are not accustomed to sit. (chuckles) Yes. My disciples, they have been
accustomed, (chuckles)</p>

<p>Satyabhama: Paramananda’s parents are here also.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Yes. Let them come also.</p>

<p>Satyabhama: (aside:) Would you like to sit on cushions?</p>

<p>Prabhupada: So both the parents agree in this marriage.</p>

<p>Satyabhama’s father: Yes.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Oh, thank you. Now those who are initiated, you can chant Hare Krsna on your
beads, (devotees chant japa) [break] (recitation of fire sacrifice prayers)</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Now, you are father?</p>

<p>Satyabhama’s father: Yes.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: So you can say to your son-in-law that “So long my daughter such and such was
under my custody. From today I am giving this daughter under your custody.” Say it.</p>

<p>Satyabhama’s father: Kate has been under me until now, and I give her unto your custody.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: You say, “Yes, I accept.”</p>

<p>Paramananda: Yes, I accept.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: And you say, “Yes, I agree.”</p>

<p>Paramananda’s father: Yes, I agree.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Now you say that “My dear such and such, I agree to serve you throughout my life.”
Satyabhama: Paramananda, I agree to serve you throughout my life.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: And you say, “My dear such and such, I take your charge of life throughout without
hesitation.”</p>

<p>Paramananda: My dear Satyabhama, I take your charge of life throughout without hesitation.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: So there is no separation in any circumstances. Promise that. There is no
separation in any circumstances.</p>

<p>Paramananda: So there is no separation in any circumstances.</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Yes. Now you garland this… You change the garland. Now you come to this side.
You go to that side. Now you are legal husband and wife. Is that all right? Yes. Now chant Hare
Krsna. [break] (prayers, fire sacrifice) Now offer this plantain like this, slowly. Thank you.</p>

<p>Satyabhama: Hare Krsna. (devotees repeat last prayer of sacrifice after Prabhupada, the maha-
mantra.)</p>

<p>Prabhupada: Now bow down, (leads in recitation of pranama mantra) You chant Hare Krsna.
(end)</p>
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