Blogging is silly and useless. And it’s a dumb word. I very much prefer podcasts.
\n", "content_text": "First things first\n\nBlogging is silly and useless. And it’s a dumb word. I very much prefer podcasts.\n", "summary": "Tell me all your thoughts on blog.", "author": { "name": "Shelby Hassell" }, "tags": [], "date_published": "2020-03-15T00:00:00+00:00" }, { "id": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/love-anton-chekhov/", "url": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/love-anton-chekhov/", "title": "Love, by Anton Chekhov", "content_html": "Retrieved from the Internet Archive.
\n\n“THREE o’clock in the morning. The soft April night is looking in\nat my windows and caressingly winking at me with its stars. I can’t\nsleep, I am so happy!
\n\n“My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange,\nincomprehensible feeling. I can’t analyse it just now–I haven’t\nthe time, I’m too lazy, and there–hang analysis! Why, is a man\nlikely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost\nfrom a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred\nthousand? Is he in a state to do it?”
\n\nThis was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl\nof nineteen with whom I had fallen in love. I began it five times,\nand as often tore up the sheets, scratched out whole pages, and\ncopied it all over again. I spent as long over the letter as if it\nhad been a novel I had to write to order. And it was not because I\ntried to make it longer, more elaborate, and more fervent, but\nbecause I wanted endlessly to prolong the process of this writing,\nwhen one sits in the stillness of one’s study and communes with\none’s own day-dreams while the spring night looks in at one’s window.\nBetween the lines I saw a beloved image, and it seemed to me that\nthere were, sitting at the same table writing with me, spirits as\nnaively happy, as foolish, and as blissfully smiling as I. I wrote\ncontinually, looking at my hand, which still ached deliciously where\nhers had lately pressed it, and if I turned my eyes away I had a\nvision of the green trellis of the little gate. Through that trellis\nSasha gazed at me after I had said goodbye to her. When I was saying\ngood-bye to Sasha I was thinking of nothing and was simply admiring\nher figure as every decent man admires a pretty woman; when I saw\nthrough the trellis two big eyes, I suddenly, as though by inspiration,\nknew that I was in love, that it was all settled between us, and\nfully decided already, that I had nothing left to do but to carry\nout certain formalities.
\n\nIt is a great delight also to seal up a love-letter, and, slowly\nputting on one’s hat and coat, to go softly out of the house and\nto carry the treasure to the post. There are no stars in the sky\nnow: in their place there is a long whitish streak in the east,\nbroken here and there by clouds above the roofs of the dingy houses;\nfrom that streak the whole sky is flooded with pale light. The town\nis asleep, but already the water-carts have come out, and somewhere\nin a far-away factory a whistle sounds to wake up the workpeople.\nBeside the postbox, slightly moist with dew, you are sure to see\nthe clumsy figure of a house porter, wearing a bell-shaped sheepskin\nand carrying a stick. He is in a condition akin to catalepsy: he\nis not asleep or awake, but something between.
\n\nIf the boxes knew how often people resort to them for the decision\nof their fate, they would not have such a humble air. I, anyway,\nalmost kissed my postbox, and as I gazed at it I reflected that the\npost is the greatest of blessings.
\n\nI beg anyone who has ever been in love to remember how one usually\nhurries home after dropping the letter in the box, rapidly gets\ninto bed and pulls up the quilt in the full conviction that as soon\nas one wakes up in the morning one will be overwhelmed with memories\nof the previous day and look with rapture at the window, where the\ndaylight will be eagerly making its way through the folds of the\ncurtain.
\n\nWell, to facts. . . . Next morning at midday, Sasha’s maid brought\nme the following answer: “I am delited be sure to come to us to day\nplease I shall expect you. Your S.”
\n\nNot a single comma. This lack of punctuation, and the misspelling\nof the word “delighted,” the whole letter, and even the long, narrow\nenvelope in which it was put filled my heart with tenderness. In\nthe sprawling but diffident handwriting I recognised Sasha’s walk,\nher way of raising her eyebrows when she laughed, the movement of\nher lips. . . . But the contents of the letter did not satisfy me.\nIn the first place, poetical letters are not answered in that way,\nand in the second, why should I go to Sasha’s house to wait till\nit should occur to her stout mamma, her brothers, and poor relations\nto leave us alone together? It would never enter their heads, and\nnothing is more hateful than to have to restrain one’s raptures\nsimply because of the intrusion of some animate trumpery in the\nshape of a half-deaf old woman or little girl pestering one with\nquestions. I sent an answer by the maid asking Sasha to select some\npark or boulevard for a rendezvous. My suggestion was readily\naccepted. I had struck the right chord, as the saying is.
\n\nBetween four and five o’clock in the afternoon I made my way to the\nfurthest and most overgrown part of the park. There was not a soul\nin the park, and the tryst might have taken place somewhere nearer\nin one of the avenues or arbours, but women don’t like doing it by\nhalves in romantic affairs; in for a penny, in for a pound–if\nyou are in for a tryst, let it be in the furthest and most impenetrable\nthicket, where one runs the risk of stumbling upon some rough or\ndrunken man. When I went up to Sasha she was standing with her back\nto me, and in that back I could read a devilish lot of mystery. It\nseemed as though that back and the nape of her neck, and the black\nspots on her dress were saying: Hush! . . . The girl was wearing a\nsimple cotton dress over which she had thrown a light cape. To add\nto the air of mysterious secrecy, her face was covered with a white\nveil. Not to spoil the effect, I had to approach on tiptoe and speak\nin a half whisper.
\n\nFrom what I remember now, I was not so much the essential point of\nthe rendezvous as a detail of it. Sasha was not so much absorbed\nin the interview itself as in its romantic mysteriousness, my kisses,\nthe silence of the gloomy trees, my vows. . . . There was not a\nminute in which she forgot herself, was overcome, or let the\nmysterious expression drop from her face, and really if there had\nbeen any Ivan Sidoritch or Sidor Ivanitch in my place she would\nhave felt just as happy. How is one to make out in such circumstances\nwhether one is loved or not? Whether the love is “the real thing”\nor not?
\n\nFrom the park I took Sasha home with me. The presence of the beloved\nwoman in one’s bachelor quarters affects one like wine and music.\nUsually one begins to speak of the future, and the confidence and\nself-reliance with which one does so is beyond bounds. You make\nplans and projects, talk fervently of the rank of general though\nyou have not yet reached the rank of a lieutenant, and altogether\nyou fire off such high-flown nonsense that your listener must have\na great deal of love and ignorance of life to assent to it. Fortunately\nfor men, women in love are always blinded by their feelings and\nnever know anything of life. Far from not assenting, they actually\nturn pale with holy awe, are full of reverence and hang greedily\non the maniac’s words. Sasha listened to me with attention, but I\nsoon detected an absent-minded expression on her face, she did not\nunderstand me. The future of which I talked interested her only in\nits external aspect and I was wasting time in displaying my plans\nand projects before her. She was keenly interested in knowing which\nwould be her room, what paper she would have in the room, why I had\nan upright piano instead of a grand piano, and so on. She examined\ncarefully all the little things on my table, looked at the photographs,\nsniffed at the bottles, peeled the old stamps off the envelopes,\nsaying she wanted them for something.
\n\n“Please collect old stamps for me!” she said, making a grave face.\n“Please do.”
\n\nThen she found a nut in the window, noisily cracked it and ate it.
\n\n“Why don’t you stick little labels on the backs of your books?” she\nasked, taking a look at the bookcase.
\n\n“What for?”
\n\n“Oh, so that each book should have its number. And where am I to\nput my books? I’ve got books too, you know.”
\n\n“What books have you got?” I asked.
\n\nSasha raised her eyebrows, thought a moment and said:
\n\n“All sorts.”
\n\nAnd if it had entered my head to ask her what thoughts, what\nconvictions, what aims she had, she would no doubt have raised her\neyebrows, thought a minute, and have said in the same way: “All\nsorts.”
\n\nLater I saw Sasha home and left her house regularly, officially\nengaged, and was so reckoned till our wedding. If the reader will\nallow me to judge merely from my personal experience, I maintain\nthat to be engaged is very dreary, far more so than to be a husband\nor nothing at all. An engaged man is neither one thing nor the\nother, he has left one side of the river and not reached the other,\nhe is not married and yet he can’t be said to be a bachelor, but\nis in something not unlike the condition of the porter whom I have\nmentioned above.
\n\nEvery day as soon as I had a free moment I hastened to my fiancee.\nAs I went I usually bore within me a multitude of hopes, desires,\nintentions, suggestions, phrases. I always fancied that as soon as\nthe maid opened the door I should, from feeling oppressed and\nstifled, plunge at once up to my neck into a sea of refreshing\nhappiness. But it always turned out otherwise in fact. Every time\nI went to see my fiancee I found all her family and other members\nof the household busy over the silly trousseau. (And by the way,\nthey were hard at work sewing for two months and then they had less\nthan a hundred roubles’ worth of things). There was a smell of\nirons, candle grease and fumes. Bugles scrunched under one’s feet.\nThe two most important rooms were piled up with billows of linen,\ncalico, and muslin and from among the billows peeped out Sasha’s\nlittle head with a thread between her teeth. All the sewing party\nwelcomed me with cries of delight but at once led me off into the\ndining-room where I could not hinder them nor see what only husbands\nare permitted to behold. In spite of my feelings, I had to sit in\nthe dining-room and converse with Pimenovna, one of the poor\nrelations. Sasha, looking worried and excited, kept running by me\nwith a thimble, a skein of wool or some other boring object.
\n\n“Wait, wait, I shan’t be a minute,” she would say when I raised\nimploring eyes to her. “Only fancy that wretch Stepanida has spoilt\nthe bodice of the barège dress!”
\n\nAnd after waiting in vain for this grace, I lost my temper, went\nout of the house and walked about the streets in the company of the\nnew cane I had bought. Or I would want to go for a walk or a drive\nwith my fiancee, would go round and find her already standing in\nthe hall with her mother, dressed to go out and playing with her\nparasol.
\n\n“Oh, we are going to the Arcade,” she would say. “We have got to\nbuy some more cashmere and change the hat.”
\n\nMy outing is knocked on the head. I join the ladies and go with\nthem to the Arcade. It is revoltingly dull to listen to women\nshopping, haggling and trying to outdo the sharp shopman. I felt\nashamed when Sasha, after turning over masses of material and\nknocking down the prices to a minimum, walked out of the shop without\nbuying anything, or else told the shopman to cut her some half\nrouble’s worth.
\n\nWhen they came out of the shop, Sasha and her mamma with scared and\nworried faces would discuss at length having made a mistake, having\nbought the wrong thing, the flowers in the chintz being too dark,\nand so on.
\n\nYes, it is a bore to be engaged! I’m glad it’s over.
\n\nNow I am married. It is evening. I am sitting in my study reading.\nBehind me on the sofa Sasha is sitting munching something noisily.\nI want a glass of beer.
\n\n“Sasha, look for the corkscrew. . . .” I say. “It’s lying about\nsomewhere.”
\n\nSasha leaps up, rummages in a disorderly way among two or three\nheaps of papers, drops the matches, and without finding the corkscrew,\nsits down in silence. . . . Five minutes pass–ten. . . I begin\nto be fretted both by thirst and vexation.
\n\n“Sasha, do look for the corkscrew,” I say.
\n\nSasha leaps up again and rummages among the papers near me. Her\nmunching and rustling of the papers affects me like the sound of\nsharpening knives against each other. . . . I get up and begin\nlooking for the corkscrew myself. At last it is found and the beer\nis uncorked. Sasha remains by the table and begins telling me\nsomething at great length.
\n\n“You’d better read something, Sasha,” I say.
\n\nShe takes up a book, sits down facing me and begins moving her lips\n. . . . I look at her little forehead, moving lips, and sink into\nthought.
\n\n“She is getting on for twenty. . . .” I reflect. “If one takes a\nboy of the educated class and of that age and compares them, what\na difference! The boy would have knowledge and convictions and some\nintelligence.”
\n\nBut I forgive that difference just as the low forehead and moving\nlips are forgiven. I remember in my old Lovelace days I have cast\noff women for a stain on their stockings, or for one foolish word,\nor for not cleaning their teeth, and now I forgive everything: the\nmunching, the muddling about after the corkscrew, the slovenliness,\nthe long talking about nothing that matters; I forgive it all almost\nunconsciously, with no effort of will, as though Sasha’s mistakes\nwere my mistakes, and many things which would have made me wince\nin old days move me to tenderness and even rapture. The explanation\nof this forgiveness of everything lies in my love for Sasha, but\nwhat is the explanation of the love itself, I really don’t know.
\n", "content_text": "Retrieved from the Internet Archive.\n\nLOVE\n\n“THREE o’clock in the morning. The soft April night is looking in\nat my windows and caressingly winking at me with its stars. I can’t\nsleep, I am so happy!\n\n“My whole being from head to heels is bursting with a strange,\nincomprehensible feeling. I can’t analyse it just now–I haven’t\nthe time, I’m too lazy, and there–hang analysis! Why, is a man\nlikely to interpret his sensations when he is flying head foremost\nfrom a belfry, or has just learned that he has won two hundred\nthousand? Is he in a state to do it?”\n\nThis was more or less how I began my love-letter to Sasha, a girl\nof nineteen with whom I had fallen in love. I began it five times,\nand as often tore up the sheets, scratched out whole pages, and\ncopied it all over again. I spent as long over the letter as if it\nhad been a novel I had to write to order. And it was not because I\ntried to make it longer, more elaborate, and more fervent, but\nbecause I wanted endlessly to prolong the process of this writing,\nwhen one sits in the stillness of one’s study and communes with\none’s own day-dreams while the spring night looks in at one’s window.\nBetween the lines I saw a beloved image, and it seemed to me that\nthere were, sitting at the same table writing with me, spirits as\nnaively happy, as foolish, and as blissfully smiling as I. I wrote\ncontinually, looking at my hand, which still ached deliciously where\nhers had lately pressed it, and if I turned my eyes away I had a\nvision of the green trellis of the little gate. Through that trellis\nSasha gazed at me after I had said goodbye to her. When I was saying\ngood-bye to Sasha I was thinking of nothing and was simply admiring\nher figure as every decent man admires a pretty woman; when I saw\nthrough the trellis two big eyes, I suddenly, as though by inspiration,\nknew that I was in love, that it was all settled between us, and\nfully decided already, that I had nothing left to do but to carry\nout certain formalities.\n\nIt is a great delight also to seal up a love-letter, and, slowly\nputting on one’s hat and coat, to go softly out of the house and\nto carry the treasure to the post. There are no stars in the sky\nnow: in their place there is a long whitish streak in the east,\nbroken here and there by clouds above the roofs of the dingy houses;\nfrom that streak the whole sky is flooded with pale light. The town\nis asleep, but already the water-carts have come out, and somewhere\nin a far-away factory a whistle sounds to wake up the workpeople.\nBeside the postbox, slightly moist with dew, you are sure to see\nthe clumsy figure of a house porter, wearing a bell-shaped sheepskin\nand carrying a stick. He is in a condition akin to catalepsy: he\nis not asleep or awake, but something between.\n\nIf the boxes knew how often people resort to them for the decision\nof their fate, they would not have such a humble air. I, anyway,\nalmost kissed my postbox, and as I gazed at it I reflected that the\npost is the greatest of blessings.\n\nI beg anyone who has ever been in love to remember how one usually\nhurries home after dropping the letter in the box, rapidly gets\ninto bed and pulls up the quilt in the full conviction that as soon\nas one wakes up in the morning one will be overwhelmed with memories\nof the previous day and look with rapture at the window, where the\ndaylight will be eagerly making its way through the folds of the\ncurtain.\n\nWell, to facts. . . . Next morning at midday, Sasha’s maid brought\nme the following answer: “I am delited be sure to come to us to day\nplease I shall expect you. Your S.”\n\nNot a single comma. This lack of punctuation, and the misspelling\nof the word “delighted,” the whole letter, and even the long, narrow\nenvelope in which it was put filled my heart with tenderness. In\nthe sprawling but diffident handwriting I recognised Sasha’s walk,\nher way of raising her eyebrows when she laughed, the movement of\nher lips. . . . But the contents of the letter did not satisfy me.\nIn the first place, poetical letters are not answered in that way,\nand in the second, why should I go to Sasha’s house to wait till\nit should occur to her stout mamma, her brothers, and poor relations\nto leave us alone together? It would never enter their heads, and\nnothing is more hateful than to have to restrain one’s raptures\nsimply because of the intrusion of some animate trumpery in the\nshape of a half-deaf old woman or little girl pestering one with\nquestions. I sent an answer by the maid asking Sasha to select some\npark or boulevard for a rendezvous. My suggestion was readily\naccepted. I had struck the right chord, as the saying is.\n\nBetween four and five o’clock in the afternoon I made my way to the\nfurthest and most overgrown part of the park. There was not a soul\nin the park, and the tryst might have taken place somewhere nearer\nin one of the avenues or arbours, but women don’t like doing it by\nhalves in romantic affairs; in for a penny, in for a pound–if\nyou are in for a tryst, let it be in the furthest and most impenetrable\nthicket, where one runs the risk of stumbling upon some rough or\ndrunken man. When I went up to Sasha she was standing with her back\nto me, and in that back I could read a devilish lot of mystery. It\nseemed as though that back and the nape of her neck, and the black\nspots on her dress were saying: Hush! . . . The girl was wearing a\nsimple cotton dress over which she had thrown a light cape. To add\nto the air of mysterious secrecy, her face was covered with a white\nveil. Not to spoil the effect, I had to approach on tiptoe and speak\nin a half whisper.\n\nFrom what I remember now, I was not so much the essential point of\nthe rendezvous as a detail of it. Sasha was not so much absorbed\nin the interview itself as in its romantic mysteriousness, my kisses,\nthe silence of the gloomy trees, my vows. . . . There was not a\nminute in which she forgot herself, was overcome, or let the\nmysterious expression drop from her face, and really if there had\nbeen any Ivan Sidoritch or Sidor Ivanitch in my place she would\nhave felt just as happy. How is one to make out in such circumstances\nwhether one is loved or not? Whether the love is “the real thing”\nor not?\n\nFrom the park I took Sasha home with me. The presence of the beloved\nwoman in one’s bachelor quarters affects one like wine and music.\nUsually one begins to speak of the future, and the confidence and\nself-reliance with which one does so is beyond bounds. You make\nplans and projects, talk fervently of the rank of general though\nyou have not yet reached the rank of a lieutenant, and altogether\nyou fire off such high-flown nonsense that your listener must have\na great deal of love and ignorance of life to assent to it. Fortunately\nfor men, women in love are always blinded by their feelings and\nnever know anything of life. Far from not assenting, they actually\nturn pale with holy awe, are full of reverence and hang greedily\non the maniac’s words. Sasha listened to me with attention, but I\nsoon detected an absent-minded expression on her face, she did not\nunderstand me. The future of which I talked interested her only in\nits external aspect and I was wasting time in displaying my plans\nand projects before her. She was keenly interested in knowing which\nwould be her room, what paper she would have in the room, why I had\nan upright piano instead of a grand piano, and so on. She examined\ncarefully all the little things on my table, looked at the photographs,\nsniffed at the bottles, peeled the old stamps off the envelopes,\nsaying she wanted them for something.\n\n“Please collect old stamps for me!” she said, making a grave face.\n“Please do.”\n\nThen she found a nut in the window, noisily cracked it and ate it.\n\n“Why don’t you stick little labels on the backs of your books?” she\nasked, taking a look at the bookcase.\n\n“What for?”\n\n“Oh, so that each book should have its number. And where am I to\nput my books? I’ve got books too, you know.”\n\n“What books have you got?” I asked.\n\nSasha raised her eyebrows, thought a moment and said:\n\n“All sorts.”\n\nAnd if it had entered my head to ask her what thoughts, what\nconvictions, what aims she had, she would no doubt have raised her\neyebrows, thought a minute, and have said in the same way: “All\nsorts.”\n\nLater I saw Sasha home and left her house regularly, officially\nengaged, and was so reckoned till our wedding. If the reader will\nallow me to judge merely from my personal experience, I maintain\nthat to be engaged is very dreary, far more so than to be a husband\nor nothing at all. An engaged man is neither one thing nor the\nother, he has left one side of the river and not reached the other,\nhe is not married and yet he can’t be said to be a bachelor, but\nis in something not unlike the condition of the porter whom I have\nmentioned above.\n\nEvery day as soon as I had a free moment I hastened to my fiancee.\nAs I went I usually bore within me a multitude of hopes, desires,\nintentions, suggestions, phrases. I always fancied that as soon as\nthe maid opened the door I should, from feeling oppressed and\nstifled, plunge at once up to my neck into a sea of refreshing\nhappiness. But it always turned out otherwise in fact. Every time\nI went to see my fiancee I found all her family and other members\nof the household busy over the silly trousseau. (And by the way,\nthey were hard at work sewing for two months and then they had less\nthan a hundred roubles’ worth of things). There was a smell of\nirons, candle grease and fumes. Bugles scrunched under one’s feet.\nThe two most important rooms were piled up with billows of linen,\ncalico, and muslin and from among the billows peeped out Sasha’s\nlittle head with a thread between her teeth. All the sewing party\nwelcomed me with cries of delight but at once led me off into the\ndining-room where I could not hinder them nor see what only husbands\nare permitted to behold. In spite of my feelings, I had to sit in\nthe dining-room and converse with Pimenovna, one of the poor\nrelations. Sasha, looking worried and excited, kept running by me\nwith a thimble, a skein of wool or some other boring object.\n\n“Wait, wait, I shan’t be a minute,” she would say when I raised\nimploring eyes to her. “Only fancy that wretch Stepanida has spoilt\nthe bodice of the barège dress!”\n\nAnd after waiting in vain for this grace, I lost my temper, went\nout of the house and walked about the streets in the company of the\nnew cane I had bought. Or I would want to go for a walk or a drive\nwith my fiancee, would go round and find her already standing in\nthe hall with her mother, dressed to go out and playing with her\nparasol.\n\n“Oh, we are going to the Arcade,” she would say. “We have got to\nbuy some more cashmere and change the hat.”\n\nMy outing is knocked on the head. I join the ladies and go with\nthem to the Arcade. It is revoltingly dull to listen to women\nshopping, haggling and trying to outdo the sharp shopman. I felt\nashamed when Sasha, after turning over masses of material and\nknocking down the prices to a minimum, walked out of the shop without\nbuying anything, or else told the shopman to cut her some half\nrouble’s worth.\n\nWhen they came out of the shop, Sasha and her mamma with scared and\nworried faces would discuss at length having made a mistake, having\nbought the wrong thing, the flowers in the chintz being too dark,\nand so on.\n\nYes, it is a bore to be engaged! I’m glad it’s over.\n\nNow I am married. It is evening. I am sitting in my study reading.\nBehind me on the sofa Sasha is sitting munching something noisily.\nI want a glass of beer.\n\n“Sasha, look for the corkscrew. . . .” I say. “It’s lying about\nsomewhere.”\n\nSasha leaps up, rummages in a disorderly way among two or three\nheaps of papers, drops the matches, and without finding the corkscrew,\nsits down in silence. . . . Five minutes pass–ten. . . I begin\nto be fretted both by thirst and vexation.\n\n“Sasha, do look for the corkscrew,” I say.\n\nSasha leaps up again and rummages among the papers near me. Her\nmunching and rustling of the papers affects me like the sound of\nsharpening knives against each other. . . . I get up and begin\nlooking for the corkscrew myself. At last it is found and the beer\nis uncorked. Sasha remains by the table and begins telling me\nsomething at great length.\n\n“You’d better read something, Sasha,” I say.\n\nShe takes up a book, sits down facing me and begins moving her lips\n. . . . I look at her little forehead, moving lips, and sink into\nthought.\n\n“She is getting on for twenty. . . .” I reflect. “If one takes a\nboy of the educated class and of that age and compares them, what\na difference! The boy would have knowledge and convictions and some\nintelligence.”\n\nBut I forgive that difference just as the low forehead and moving\nlips are forgiven. I remember in my old Lovelace days I have cast\noff women for a stain on their stockings, or for one foolish word,\nor for not cleaning their teeth, and now I forgive everything: the\nmunching, the muddling about after the corkscrew, the slovenliness,\nthe long talking about nothing that matters; I forgive it all almost\nunconsciously, with no effort of will, as though Sasha’s mistakes\nwere my mistakes, and many things which would have made me wince\nin old days move me to tenderness and even rapture. The explanation\nof this forgiveness of everything lies in my love for Sasha, but\nwhat is the explanation of the love itself, I really don’t know.\n", "summary": "Short story by Anton Chekhov about love.", "banner_image": "http://shelbybrad.com/assets/images/1200x630/heart.jpg", "author": { "name": "Brad Czerniak" }, "tags": [], "date_published": "2004-09-09T00:00:00+00:00" }, { "id": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/marriage-a-novel-susan-edmonstone-ferrier/", "url": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/marriage-a-novel-susan-edmonstone-ferrier/", "title": "Marriage, a novel", "content_html": "Excerpt of Marriage, a novel, as retrived from the Internet Archive.
\n\nMISS FERRIER’S Novels have, since their first appearance, suffered\ncurtailment in all subsequent Editions. The present Edition is the first\nreprint from the original Editions, and contains the whole of the\nomissions in other reprints. It is, therefore, the only perfect Edition\nof these Novels.
\n\nWorks which have received the praise of Sir Walter Scott and Sir James\nMackintosh, and been thought worthy of discussion in the Noctes\nAmbrosianae, require no further introduction to the reader. The almost\nexceptional position which they occupy as satirizing the foibles rather\nthan the more serious faults of human nature, and the caustic character\nof that satire, mingled with such bright wit and genial humour, give\nMiss Ferrier a place to herself in English fiction; and it is felt that\na time has come to recognize this by producing her works in a form which\nfits them for the library, and in a type which enables them to be read\nwith enjoyment.
\n\nG.B.
\n\nNEW BURLINGTON STREET,
\n\nDecember, 1881.
\n\n\n\n\n“Love!–A word by superstition thought a God; by use turned to an\nhumour; by self-will made a flattering madness.”
\n\nAlexander and Campaspe.
\n
“COME hither, child,” said the old Earl of Courtland to his daughter,\nas, in obedience to his summons, she entered his study; “come hither, I\nsay; I wish to have some serious conversation with you: so dismiss your\ndogs, shut the door, and sit down here.”
\n\n“Lady Juliana rang for the footman to take Venus; bade Pluto be quiet,\nlike a darling, under the sofa; and, taking Cupid in her arms, assured\nhis Lordship he need fear no disturbance from the sweet creatures, and\nthat she would be all attention to his commands–kissing her cherished\npug as she spoke.
\n\n“You are now, I think, seventeen, Juliana,” said his Lordship in a\nsolemn important tone.
\n\n“And a half, papa.”
\n\n“It is therefore time you should be thinking of establishing yourself in\nthe world. Have you ever turned your thoughts that way?”
\n\nLady Juliana cast down her beautiful eyes, and was silent.
\n\n“As I can give you no fortune,” continued the Earl, swelling with\nill-suppressed importance, as he proceeded, “you have perhaps no great\npretensions to a very brilliant establishment.”
\n\n“Oh! none in the world, papa,” eagerly interrupted Lady Juliana; “a mere\ncompetence with the man of my heart.”
\n\n“The man of a fiddlestick!” exclaimed Lord Courtland in a fury; “what\nthe devil have you to do with a heart, I should like to know? There’s no\ntalking to a young woman now about marriage, but she is all in a blaze\nabout hearts, and darts, and–and–But hark ye, child, I’ll suffer no\ndaughter of mine to play the fool with her heart, indeed! She shall\nmarry for the purpose for which matrimony was ordained amongst people of\nbirth–that is, for the aggrandisement of her family, the extending of\ntheir political influence–for becoming, in short, the depository of\ntheir mutual interest. These are the only purposes for which persons of\nrank ever think of marriage. And pray, what has your heart to say to\nthat?”
\n\n“Nothing, papa,” replied Lady Juliana in a faint dejected tone of voice.\n“Have done, Cupid!” addressing her favourite, who was amusing himself\nin pulling and tearing the beautiful lace veil that partly shaded the\nhead of his fair mistress.
\n\n“I thought not,” resumed the Earl in a triumphant tone–“I thought not,\nindeed.” And as this victory over his daughter put him in unusual good\nhumour, he condescended to sport a little with her curiosity.
\n\n“And pray, can this wonderful wise heart of yours inform you who it is\nyou are going to obtain for a husband?”
\n\nHad Lady Juliana dared to utter the wishes of that heart she would have\nbeen at no loss for a reply; but she saw the necessity of dissimulation;\nand after naming such of her admirers as were most indifferent to her,\nshe declared herself quite at a loss, and begged her father to put an\nend to her suspense.
\n\n“Now, what would you think of the Duke of L—?” asked the Earl in a\nvoice of half-smothered exultation and delight.
\n\n“The Duke of L—–!” repeated Lady Juliana, with a scream of horror and\nsurprise; “surely, papa, you cannot be serious? Why, he’s red-haired and\nsquints, and he’s as old as you.”
\n\n“If he were as old as the devil, and as ugly too,” interrupted the\nenraged Earl, “he should be your husband: and may I perish if you shall\nhave any other!”
\n\nThe youthful beauty burst into tears, while her father traversed the\napartment with an inflamed and wrathful visage.
\n\n“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke,” sobbed the lovely\nJuliana.
\n\n“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke!” repeated the Earl,\nmimicking her, “they should not have had you. It has been my sole study,\never since I saw your brother settled, to bring about this alliance;\nand, when this is accomplished, my utmost ambition will be satisfied. So\nno more whining–the affair is settled; and all that remains for you to\ndo is to study to make yourself agreeable to his Grace, and to sign the\nsettlements. No such mighty sacrifice, me thinks, when repaid with a\nducal coronet, the most splendid jewels, the finest equipages, and the\nlargest jointure of any woman in England.”
\n\nLady Juliana raised her head, and wiped her eyes. Lord Courtland\nperceived the effect his eloquence had produced upon the childish fancy\nof his daughter, and continued to expatiate upon the splendid joys that\nawaited her in a union with a nobleman of the Duke’s rank and fortune;\ntill at length, dazzled, if not convinced, she declared herself\n“satisfied that it was her duty to marry whoever papa pleased; but–”\nand a sigh escaped her as she contrasted her noble suitor with her\nhandsome lover: “but if I should marry him, papa, I am sure I shall\nnever be able to love him.”
\n\nThe Earl smiled at her childish simplicity as he assured her that was\nnot at all necessary; that love was now entirely confined to the\ncanaille; that it was very well for ploughmen and dairymaids to marry\nfor love; but for a young woman of rank to think of such a thing was\nplebeian in the extreme!
\n\nLady Juliana did not entirely subscribe to the arguments of her father;\nbut the gay and glorious vision that floated in her brain stifled for a\nwhile the pleadings of her heart; and with a sparkling eye and an\nelastic step she hastened to prepare for the reception of the Duke.
\n\nFor a few weeks the delusion lasted. Lady Juliana was flattered with the\nhomage she received as a future Duchess; she was delighted with the\n�clat that attended her, and charmed with the daily presents\nshowered upon her by her noble suitor.
\n\n“Well, really, Favolle,” said she to her maid, one day, as she clasped\non her beautiful arm a resplendent bracelet, “it must be owned the Duke\nhas a most exquisite taste in trinkets; don’t you think so? And, do you\nknow, I don’t think him so very–very ugly. When we are married I mean\nto make him get a Brutus, cork his eyebrows, and have a set of teeth.”\nBut just then the smiling eyes, curling hair, and finely formed person\nof a certain captivating Scotsman rose to view in her mind’s eye; and,\nwith a peevish “pshaw!” she threw the bauble aside.
\n\nEducated for the sole purpose of forming a brilliant establishment, of\ncatching the eye, and captivating the senses, the cultivation of her\nmind or the correction of her temper had formed no part of the system by\nwhich that aim was to be accomplished. Under the auspices of a\nfashionable mother and an obsequious governess the froward petulance of\nchildhood, fostered and strengthened by indulgence and submission, had\ngradually ripened into that selfishness and caprice which now, in youth,\nformed the prominent features of her character. The Earl was too much\nengrossed by affairs of importance to pay much attention to anything so\nperfectly insignificant as the mind of his daughter. Her person he had\npredetermined should be entirely at his disposal, and therefore\ncontemplated with delight the uncommon beauty which already\ndistinguished it; not with the fond partiality of parental love, but\nwith the heartless satisfaction of a crafty politician.
\n\nThe mind of Lady Juliana was consequently the sport of every passion\nthat by turns assailed it. Now swayed by ambition, and now softened by\nlove, the struggle was violent, but it was short. A few days before the\none which was to seal her fate she granted an interview to her lover,\nwho, young, thoughtless, and enamoured as herself, easily succeeded in\npersuading her to elope with him to Scotland. There, at the altar of\nVulcan, the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Courtland gave her hand to\nher handsome but penniless lover; and there vowed to immolate every\nambitious desire, every sentiment of vanity and high-born pride. Yet a\nsigh arose as she looked on the filthy hut, sooty priest, and ragged\nwitnesses; and thought of the special license, splendid saloon, and\nbridal pomp that would have attended her union with the Duke. But the\nrapturous expressions which burst from the impassioned Douglas made her\nforget the gaudy pleasures of pomp and fashion. Amid the sylvan scenes\nof the neighbouring lakes the lovers sought a shelter; and, mutually\ncharmed with each other, time flew for a while on downy pinions.
\n\nAt the end of two months, however, the enamoured husband began to\nsuspect that the lips of his “angel Julia” could utter very silly\nthings; while the fond bride, on her part, discovered that though her\n“adored Henry’s” figure was symmetry itself, yet it certainly was\ndeficient in a certain air–a je ne sais quoi–that marks the man of\nfashion.
\n\n“How I wish I had my pretty Cupid here,” said her Ladyship, with a sigh,\none day as she lolled on a sofa: “he had so many pretty tricks, he would\nhave helped to amuse us, and make the time pass; for really this place\ngrows very stupid and tiresome; don’t you think so, love?”
\n\n“Most confoundedly so, my darling,” replied her husband, yawning\nsympathetically as he spoke.
\n\n“Then suppose I make one more attempt to soften papa, and be received\ninto favour again?”
\n\n“With all my heart.”
\n\n“Shall I say I’m very sorry for what I have done?” asked her Ladyship,\nwith a sigh. “You know I did not say that in my first letter.”
\n\n“Ay, do; and, if it will serve any purpose, you may say that I am no\nless so.”
\n\nIn a few days the letter was returned, in a blank cover; and, by the\nsame post, Douglas saw himself superseded in the Gazette, being absent\nwithout leave!
\n\nThere now remained but one course to pursue; and that was to seek refuge\nat his father’s, in the Highlands of Scotland. At the first mention of\nit Lady Juliana was transported with joy, and begged that a letter might\nbe instantly despatched, containing the offer of a visit: she had heard\nthe Duchess of M. declare nothing could be so delightful as the style of\nliving in Scotland: the people were so frank and gay, and the manners so\neasy and engaging–oh! it was delightful! And then Lady Jane G. and Lady\nMary L., and a thousand other lords and ladies she knew, were all so\ncharmed with the country, and all so sorry to leave it. Then dear\nHenry’s family must be so charming: an old castle, too, was her delight;\nshe would feel quite at home while wandering through its long galleries;\nand she quite loved old pictures, and armour, and tapestry; and then her\nthoughts reverted to her father’s magnificent mansion in D—shire.
\n\nAt length an answer arrived, containing a cordial invitation from the\nold Laird to spend the winter with them at Glenfern Castle.
\n\nAll impatience to quit the scenes of their short lived felicity, they\nbade a hasty adieu to the now fading beauties of Windermere; and, full\nof hope and expectation, eagerly turned towards the bleak hills of\nScotland. They stopped for a short time at Edinburgh, to provide\nthemselves with a carriage, and some other necessaries. There, too, she\nfortunately met with an English Abigail and footman, who, for double\nwages, were prevailed upon to attend her to the Highlands; which, with\nthe addition of two dogs, a tame squirrel, and mackaw, completed the\nestablishment.
\n", "content_text": "Excerpt of Marriage, a novel, as retrived from the Internet Archive.\n\nPREFATORY NOTE.\n\nMISS FERRIER’S Novels have, since their first appearance, suffered\ncurtailment in all subsequent Editions. The present Edition is the first\nreprint from the original Editions, and contains the whole of the\nomissions in other reprints. It is, therefore, the only perfect Edition\nof these Novels.\n\nWorks which have received the praise of Sir Walter Scott and Sir James\nMackintosh, and been thought worthy of discussion in the Noctes\nAmbrosianae, require no further introduction to the reader. The almost\nexceptional position which they occupy as satirizing the foibles rather\nthan the more serious faults of human nature, and the caustic character\nof that satire, mingled with such bright wit and genial humour, give\nMiss Ferrier a place to herself in English fiction; and it is felt that\na time has come to recognize this by producing her works in a form which\nfits them for the library, and in a type which enables them to be read\nwith enjoyment.\n\nG.B.\n\nNEW BURLINGTON STREET,\n\nDecember, 1881.\n\nMARRIAGE.\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\n “Love!–A word by superstition thought a God; by use turned to an\nhumour; by self-will made a flattering madness.”\n\n Alexander and Campaspe.\n\n\n“COME hither, child,” said the old Earl of Courtland to his daughter,\nas, in obedience to his summons, she entered his study; “come hither, I\nsay; I wish to have some serious conversation with you: so dismiss your\ndogs, shut the door, and sit down here.”\n\n“Lady Juliana rang for the footman to take Venus; bade Pluto be quiet,\nlike a darling, under the sofa; and, taking Cupid in her arms, assured\nhis Lordship he need fear no disturbance from the sweet creatures, and\nthat she would be all attention to his commands–kissing her cherished\npug as she spoke.\n\n“You are now, I think, seventeen, Juliana,” said his Lordship in a\nsolemn important tone.\n\n“And a half, papa.”\n\n“It is therefore time you should be thinking of establishing yourself in\nthe world. Have you ever turned your thoughts that way?”\n\nLady Juliana cast down her beautiful eyes, and was silent.\n\n“As I can give you no fortune,” continued the Earl, swelling with\nill-suppressed importance, as he proceeded, “you have perhaps no great\npretensions to a very brilliant establishment.”\n\n“Oh! none in the world, papa,” eagerly interrupted Lady Juliana; “a mere\ncompetence with the man of my heart.”\n\n“The man of a fiddlestick!” exclaimed Lord Courtland in a fury; “what\nthe devil have you to do with a heart, I should like to know? There’s no\ntalking to a young woman now about marriage, but she is all in a blaze\nabout hearts, and darts, and–and–But hark ye, child, I’ll suffer no\ndaughter of mine to play the fool with her heart, indeed! She shall\nmarry for the purpose for which matrimony was ordained amongst people of\nbirth–that is, for the aggrandisement of her family, the extending of\ntheir political influence–for becoming, in short, the depository of\ntheir mutual interest. These are the only purposes for which persons of\nrank ever think of marriage. And pray, what has your heart to say to\nthat?”\n\n“Nothing, papa,” replied Lady Juliana in a faint dejected tone of voice.\n“Have done, Cupid!” addressing her favourite, who was amusing himself\nin pulling and tearing the beautiful lace veil that partly shaded the\nhead of his fair mistress.\n\n“I thought not,” resumed the Earl in a triumphant tone–“I thought not,\nindeed.” And as this victory over his daughter put him in unusual good\nhumour, he condescended to sport a little with her curiosity.\n\n“And pray, can this wonderful wise heart of yours inform you who it is\nyou are going to obtain for a husband?”\n\nHad Lady Juliana dared to utter the wishes of that heart she would have\nbeen at no loss for a reply; but she saw the necessity of dissimulation;\nand after naming such of her admirers as were most indifferent to her,\nshe declared herself quite at a loss, and begged her father to put an\nend to her suspense.\n\n“Now, what would you think of the Duke of L—?” asked the Earl in a\nvoice of half-smothered exultation and delight.\n\n“The Duke of L—–!” repeated Lady Juliana, with a scream of horror and\nsurprise; “surely, papa, you cannot be serious? Why, he’s red-haired and\nsquints, and he’s as old as you.”\n\n“If he were as old as the devil, and as ugly too,” interrupted the\nenraged Earl, “he should be your husband: and may I perish if you shall\nhave any other!”\n\nThe youthful beauty burst into tears, while her father traversed the\napartment with an inflamed and wrathful visage.\n\n“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke,” sobbed the lovely\nJuliana.\n\n“If it had been anybody but that odious Duke!” repeated the Earl,\nmimicking her, “they should not have had you. It has been my sole study,\never since I saw your brother settled, to bring about this alliance;\nand, when this is accomplished, my utmost ambition will be satisfied. So\nno more whining–the affair is settled; and all that remains for you to\ndo is to study to make yourself agreeable to his Grace, and to sign the\nsettlements. No such mighty sacrifice, me thinks, when repaid with a\nducal coronet, the most splendid jewels, the finest equipages, and the\nlargest jointure of any woman in England.”\n\nLady Juliana raised her head, and wiped her eyes. Lord Courtland\nperceived the effect his eloquence had produced upon the childish fancy\nof his daughter, and continued to expatiate upon the splendid joys that\nawaited her in a union with a nobleman of the Duke’s rank and fortune;\ntill at length, dazzled, if not convinced, she declared herself\n“satisfied that it was her duty to marry whoever papa pleased; but–”\nand a sigh escaped her as she contrasted her noble suitor with her\nhandsome lover: “but if I should marry him, papa, I am sure I shall\nnever be able to love him.”\n\nThe Earl smiled at her childish simplicity as he assured her that was\nnot at all necessary; that love was now entirely confined to the\ncanaille; that it was very well for ploughmen and dairymaids to marry\nfor love; but for a young woman of rank to think of such a thing was\nplebeian in the extreme!\n\nLady Juliana did not entirely subscribe to the arguments of her father;\nbut the gay and glorious vision that floated in her brain stifled for a\nwhile the pleadings of her heart; and with a sparkling eye and an\nelastic step she hastened to prepare for the reception of the Duke.\n\nFor a few weeks the delusion lasted. Lady Juliana was flattered with the\nhomage she received as a future Duchess; she was delighted with the\n�clat that attended her, and charmed with the daily presents\nshowered upon her by her noble suitor.\n\n“Well, really, Favolle,” said she to her maid, one day, as she clasped\non her beautiful arm a resplendent bracelet, “it must be owned the Duke\nhas a most exquisite taste in trinkets; don’t you think so? And, do you\nknow, I don’t think him so very–very ugly. When we are married I mean\nto make him get a Brutus, cork his eyebrows, and have a set of teeth.”\nBut just then the smiling eyes, curling hair, and finely formed person\nof a certain captivating Scotsman rose to view in her mind’s eye; and,\nwith a peevish “pshaw!” she threw the bauble aside.\n\nEducated for the sole purpose of forming a brilliant establishment, of\ncatching the eye, and captivating the senses, the cultivation of her\nmind or the correction of her temper had formed no part of the system by\nwhich that aim was to be accomplished. Under the auspices of a\nfashionable mother and an obsequious governess the froward petulance of\nchildhood, fostered and strengthened by indulgence and submission, had\ngradually ripened into that selfishness and caprice which now, in youth,\nformed the prominent features of her character. The Earl was too much\nengrossed by affairs of importance to pay much attention to anything so\nperfectly insignificant as the mind of his daughter. Her person he had\npredetermined should be entirely at his disposal, and therefore\ncontemplated with delight the uncommon beauty which already\ndistinguished it; not with the fond partiality of parental love, but\nwith the heartless satisfaction of a crafty politician.\n\nThe mind of Lady Juliana was consequently the sport of every passion\nthat by turns assailed it. Now swayed by ambition, and now softened by\nlove, the struggle was violent, but it was short. A few days before the\none which was to seal her fate she granted an interview to her lover,\nwho, young, thoughtless, and enamoured as herself, easily succeeded in\npersuading her to elope with him to Scotland. There, at the altar of\nVulcan, the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Courtland gave her hand to\nher handsome but penniless lover; and there vowed to immolate every\nambitious desire, every sentiment of vanity and high-born pride. Yet a\nsigh arose as she looked on the filthy hut, sooty priest, and ragged\nwitnesses; and thought of the special license, splendid saloon, and\nbridal pomp that would have attended her union with the Duke. But the\nrapturous expressions which burst from the impassioned Douglas made her\nforget the gaudy pleasures of pomp and fashion. Amid the sylvan scenes\nof the neighbouring lakes the lovers sought a shelter; and, mutually\ncharmed with each other, time flew for a while on downy pinions.\n\nAt the end of two months, however, the enamoured husband began to\nsuspect that the lips of his “angel Julia” could utter very silly\nthings; while the fond bride, on her part, discovered that though her\n“adored Henry’s” figure was symmetry itself, yet it certainly was\ndeficient in a certain air–a je ne sais quoi–that marks the man of\nfashion.\n\n“How I wish I had my pretty Cupid here,” said her Ladyship, with a sigh,\none day as she lolled on a sofa: “he had so many pretty tricks, he would\nhave helped to amuse us, and make the time pass; for really this place\ngrows very stupid and tiresome; don’t you think so, love?”\n\n“Most confoundedly so, my darling,” replied her husband, yawning\nsympathetically as he spoke.\n\n“Then suppose I make one more attempt to soften papa, and be received\ninto favour again?”\n\n“With all my heart.”\n\n“Shall I say I’m very sorry for what I have done?” asked her Ladyship,\nwith a sigh. “You know I did not say that in my first letter.”\n\n“Ay, do; and, if it will serve any purpose, you may say that I am no\nless so.”\n\nIn a few days the letter was returned, in a blank cover; and, by the\nsame post, Douglas saw himself superseded in the Gazette, being absent\nwithout leave!\n\nThere now remained but one course to pursue; and that was to seek refuge\nat his father’s, in the Highlands of Scotland. At the first mention of\nit Lady Juliana was transported with joy, and begged that a letter might\nbe instantly despatched, containing the offer of a visit: she had heard\nthe Duchess of M. declare nothing could be so delightful as the style of\nliving in Scotland: the people were so frank and gay, and the manners so\neasy and engaging–oh! it was delightful! And then Lady Jane G. and Lady\nMary L., and a thousand other lords and ladies she knew, were all so\ncharmed with the country, and all so sorry to leave it. Then dear\nHenry’s family must be so charming: an old castle, too, was her delight;\nshe would feel quite at home while wandering through its long galleries;\nand she quite loved old pictures, and armour, and tapestry; and then her\nthoughts reverted to her father’s magnificent mansion in D—shire.\n\nAt length an answer arrived, containing a cordial invitation from the\nold Laird to spend the winter with them at Glenfern Castle.\n\nAll impatience to quit the scenes of their short lived felicity, they\nbade a hasty adieu to the now fading beauties of Windermere; and, full\nof hope and expectation, eagerly turned towards the bleak hills of\nScotland. They stopped for a short time at Edinburgh, to provide\nthemselves with a carriage, and some other necessaries. There, too, she\nfortunately met with an English Abigail and footman, who, for double\nwages, were prevailed upon to attend her to the Highlands; which, with\nthe addition of two dogs, a tame squirrel, and mackaw, completed the\nestablishment.\n", "summary": "Chapter of a book by Susan Edmonstone Ferrier.", "banner_image": "http://shelbybrad.com/assets/images/1200x630/heart-3.jpg", "author": { "name": "Brad Czerniak" }, "tags": [], "date_published": "2004-06-19T00:00:00+00:00" }, { "id": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/example-post/", "url": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/example-post/", "title": "Example post", "content_html": "Lorem markdownum avita mulcebat virtute. Similemque membra Ismenis ne visa\nserpentis populis? Cum omnia, et nec aethere aetas cui patria pacisci. Muneris\nfertur resistit me pariter sanguine: poteram\nmodo secum, oderat marmoreamque quis; per.
\n\nif (packDay(num_cpa_surface, 73, worm_address_dbms) == noc_ivr) {\n wheel.nameWhoisUp -= whitelist_controller;\n}\nvar mirroredGigahertz = 5;\nif (5 - ipProxyMenu) {\n technology_ics_pda(compatible, troubleshooting_zero_party);\n itunes_swipe = zip;\n}\nmode.upMicrophone += direct_clean_shift(suffix_multi_multi, bitmap(\n nic_deprecated_waveform) + 3);\nFruticosa ipsa; qui quae praelate, aderat, Tyria pedibus, et clavam faciem nec\nadpositi ignibus. Iste que mentis sanguine generis: amittere montibus quidem\nadlabimur ardua respicit. Cessent funda est arbore revocare et increpor confinia\nligamina et siqua extenuat, puppis. Sine deus domos formosa et obicit Proximus\nOpem digna de, sed. Poscit vultus nares, quo oculis altaria servatae, nostro,\niram longis et iaculo tulerunt?
\n\nDi Neptunus plausis quoque, separat insolida propago hoc linguae dixit\nsolvit. Qui quas animo quod filius carpat vindicet illos, matre vehebat sis.\nCuncti opprimere ferebam?
\n\nEst paelice diversorum iaculum segetis virque has erat, nunc. Et Macareus\nilla, aut cornua quantam manu animasse ignibus reppulit nascentia freti multa.\nCum hunc, turpes!
\n\nServantis id Procne erat levi fatetur, apium potes loco canes positus\nvituli, non sedit et audierit, Phoebus. Iam Iapygis, rutilum Mygdoniusque\nveniente, aras ab linguae volucrumque nobis proicit algae.
\n\nOrtus citraque horum dis ululasse labor si, membris nec potius pectora sub nemo\nmovit consensu. Per ante, gerit, prospiciunt fortunata per vallibus Osiris\ncommune crines, prius actis tellure sed quam\nneque.
\n\nLorem markdownum auras. In quaque hoc loqui, si tamen dea additus; perque.
\n\nAulidaque nomina fixa oracla Hector et quid quod exhalantem, artus flores\nmagnorum relevasse postquam. Ceperat auribus, tramite iure subita esse\nnostris, secum et parentem ignis attraxerat pedibusque incola vix.
\n\nAltera tenebrosa tu flores virginibus frangitur crevit iactatibus\nhoc silentia! Quod massa fontis faticano, da cum huc sensi tum?
\n\nLucifero dici biiugum est novissimus caret virtus qui quoque ecce? Quam quid\nnemorum undis mira medio ministerio deorum quoque, pestiferaque nulla me\npectora consule vibrata, ab. Illa in vernos, commendat mediocris mors attollite\nadhuc natusque capillis labens.
\n\nNamque tellus silentia dabat loquerentur, aras deus feremus corpora. Vir salutat\nIamque. Certa rustica vigilans nisi vestem taurum. Echo in\nnoctis vellera te Pelides aestu; sed ora equorum arbore formamque aethera e\ntamen Acrisio. Vultus seductas saepe in serta vocat ostentare iaculabile\ncustodemque aquis, aura ope.
\n\nPer ter, ante tua. Quoque venientem quae. Flet exstabant Inachus\ntruncum praeferrer magnosque pudici vacca rogat; Oileos sine\nsecantes et.
\n\nHabebat nil vosne quod, ait in Pergama arces fessos quidem, erat temerarius\nappellantque nescio clarus. Aliis nocituraque illa et virgo hoc est virgamque\naureus iam iam tanta subsedit proxima nostro gerentes exanimis Haemonio eundo?\nEt me ineo longius. Nereidum ut murmure infans dolorque disces tamen mariti.
\n", "content_text": "Solutis longo nostri usus\n\nLorem markdownum avita mulcebat virtute. Similemque membra Ismenis ne visa\nserpentis populis? Cum omnia, et nec aethere aetas cui patria pacisci. Muneris\nfertur resistit me pariter sanguine: poteram\nmodo secum, oderat marmoreamque quis; per.\n\nif (packDay(num_cpa_surface, 73, worm_address_dbms) == noc_ivr) {\n wheel.nameWhoisUp -= whitelist_controller;\n}\nvar mirroredGigahertz = 5;\nif (5 - ipProxyMenu) {\n technology_ics_pda(compatible, troubleshooting_zero_party);\n itunes_swipe = zip;\n}\nmode.upMicrophone += direct_clean_shift(suffix_multi_multi, bitmap(\n nic_deprecated_waveform) + 3);\n\n\nQui viae vertuntur linguae\n\nFruticosa ipsa; qui quae praelate, aderat, Tyria pedibus, et clavam faciem nec\nadpositi ignibus. Iste que mentis sanguine generis: amittere montibus quidem\nadlabimur ardua respicit. Cessent funda est arbore revocare et increpor confinia\nligamina et siqua extenuat, puppis. Sine deus domos formosa et obicit Proximus\nOpem digna de, sed. Poscit vultus nares, quo oculis altaria servatae, nostro,\niram longis et iaculo tulerunt?\n\nDi Neptunus plausis quoque, separat insolida propago hoc linguae dixit\nsolvit. Qui quas animo quod filius carpat vindicet illos, matre vehebat sis.\nCuncti opprimere ferebam?\n\nEnim ignes tam primum\n\nEst paelice diversorum iaculum segetis virque has erat, nunc. Et Macareus\nilla, aut cornua quantam manu animasse ignibus reppulit nascentia freti multa.\nCum hunc, turpes!\n\nServantis id Procne erat levi fatetur, apium potes loco canes positus\nvituli, non sedit et audierit, Phoebus. Iam Iapygis, rutilum Mygdoniusque\nveniente, aras ab linguae volucrumque nobis proicit algae.\n\nOrtus citraque horum dis ululasse labor si, membris nec potius pectora sub nemo\nmovit consensu. Per ante, gerit, prospiciunt fortunata per vallibus Osiris\ncommune crines, prius actis tellure sed quam\nneque.\n\nIngens saecula habendam umbrosum carcere Polydore devotaque\n\nLorem markdownum auras. In quaque hoc loqui, si tamen dea additus; perque.\n\nVenit destrinxit cum\n\nAulidaque nomina fixa oracla Hector et quid quod exhalantem, artus flores\nmagnorum relevasse postquam. Ceperat auribus, tramite iure subita esse\nnostris, secum et parentem ignis attraxerat pedibusque incola vix.\n\nAltera tenebrosa tu flores virginibus frangitur crevit iactatibus\nhoc silentia! Quod massa fontis faticano, da cum huc sensi tum?\n\nEt nec iecit\n\nLucifero dici biiugum est novissimus caret virtus qui quoque ecce? Quam quid\nnemorum undis mira medio ministerio deorum quoque, pestiferaque nulla me\npectora consule vibrata, ab. Illa in vernos, commendat mediocris mors attollite\nadhuc natusque capillis labens.\n\nCapaci fluit\n\nNamque tellus silentia dabat loquerentur, aras deus feremus corpora. Vir salutat\nIamque. Certa rustica vigilans nisi vestem taurum. Echo in\nnoctis vellera te Pelides aestu; sed ora equorum arbore formamque aethera e\ntamen Acrisio. Vultus seductas saepe in serta vocat ostentare iaculabile\ncustodemque aquis, aura ope.\n\n\n Sic breve sude\n Sua speciem nympha magno\n Lugeat spicula Oleniden fertur\n\n\nVeloque filia et obsisto\n\nPer ter, ante tua. Quoque venientem quae. Flet exstabant Inachus\ntruncum praeferrer magnosque pudici vacca rogat; Oileos sine\nsecantes et.\n\n\n Et caede\n Amat et veluti dextris corpore depresso voco\n Transibat prensos suae serta\n Viribus diros\n\n\nHabebat nil vosne quod, ait in Pergama arces fessos quidem, erat temerarius\nappellantque nescio clarus. Aliis nocituraque illa et virgo hoc est virgamque\naureus iam iam tanta subsedit proxima nostro gerentes exanimis Haemonio eundo?\nEt me ineo longius. Nereidum ut murmure infans dolorque disces tamen mariti.\n", "summary": "A blog post with example content and front matter.", "author": { "name": "Brad Czerniak" }, "tags": [], "date_published": "1970-01-01T00:00:00+00:00" }, { "id": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/wedding-ceremonies-vedantist/", "url": "http://shelbybrad.com/blog/wedding-ceremonies-vedantist/", "title": "Wedding Ceremonies", "content_html": "Excerpt from Wedding Ceremonies by Vedantist, as\nretrieved from the Internet Archive.
\n\nParamananda & Satyabhama’s Wedding, Montreal, July 22, 1968
\n\nPrabhupada: Gurudasa, you don’t feel?
\n\nGurudasa: Yes, very good.
\n\nPrabhupada: This last verse… It is not last. It is the third of Brahma-sutra, Brahma-sarhhita. Alola-\ncandraka-lasad-vanamalya-varhsT-ratnangadarh pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam [Bs. 5.31], This verse…\nThere are about one hundred verses in the Brahma-sarhhita, and this verse, I think, about thirty-\neighth verse… So description of Govinda, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The picture is\nhere. So Govinda is not impersonal. And it is distinctly stated here that alola-candraka-lasad-\nvanamalya-varhsl: [Bs. 5.31] “The Lord is decorated with flower garland, and He has got a flute in\nHis hands.” And pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam: “And He is engaged in transcendental, conjugal love,\nRadha and Krsna.” So this love which is in our experience within this material world, man and\nwoman, it is not unnatural. It is in God also there. And the Brahma-sutra, Vedanta-sutra, in the\nbeginning says that “Who is Brahman, the Supreme Person or the Absolute Truth?” Athato\nbrahma jijnasa, questioning “What is that Absolute Truth?” The answer is janmady asya yatah:
\n\n[SB 1.1.1] “The Absolute Truth is that from whom everything emanates.” Very simple definition.\nThat means the fountainhead of everything, the source of everything. Therefore here in this\nmaterial world we see that the attraction for man and woman, woman’s attraction for man, man’s\nattraction for woman, is so prominent. Not only in human society, but in other than: animal society,\ncat society, dog society, bird society, there is always the attraction, man and woman, or male and\nfemale. Why? The answer is in the Vedanta-sutra: janmady asya yatah [SB 1.1.1], Because it is\nthere in the Absolute Truth. Without being present in the Absolute Truth, how it can be manifested\nin the relative truth?
\n\nThis world is called relative world. It is not Absolute. Relative. Difference, two, duality. We cannot\nunderstand a man without knowing a woman. We cannot understand father without understanding\na son or a mother. Relativity. But in Absolute world, everything is one. So this love between male\nand female, conjugal love, we Vaisnava philosophers… Because everyone, according to Vedic\nsystem, everyone has to follow the Vedanta-sutra. There are two section of philosophers in India,\napproved; not, I mean to say, manufactured philosopher, mental speculators, but actually those\nwho are counted valuable. There are two classes of philosophers, namely the impersonalist and\npersonalist. The Vaisnava, they accept that the Absolute Truth is person, and the MayavadT\nphilosophers, they say that Absolute Truth is impersonal. That is the difference. Otherwise their\nprocess of other paraphernalia, execution of understanding, is almost the same. Now our\nVaisnava philosopher’s argument is that how the Absolute Truth can be impersonal? Because\nhere, in this world, in our experience, we see everything personal. So unless the personality, the
\n\nindividuality, or the individual attraction is there in the Absolute Truth, how they can be\nrepresented here in the relative truth?
\n\nSo apart from that argumental point of view, our presentation is that this conjugal love between\nman and woman is not unnatural. It is quite natural because it is in the Absolute Truth, as we find\nfrom Vedic description, that the Absolute Truth, Personality of Godhead, is engaged in conjugal\nloving affairs, Radha-Krsna. But the same Radha-Krsna love matter has permeated through\nmatter. Therefore it is perverted reflection. Here in this material world, the so-called love is not\nactual love. It is lust. Here the male and female are attracted not by love but by lust. So in this\nKrsna consciousness society, because we are trying to approach the Absolute Truth, the lust\npropensity has to be converted into pure love. That is the proposal. So in India still, amongst the\nstrict followers of Vedic principles, this lust affair is adjusted spiritually. What is that? The boys and\ngirls, they are not allowed free mixing before marriage. Especially… Both the boys… Here, one of\nour students, he was in India, and he tried to talk with a young girl on the street, and he (she) was\ninsulted. He was surprised. Because the practice is there that no young boy or young girl can talk\nwith… Of course, now it is different. Even up to our young time we have seen that without being\nmarried, no girl, no boy, could mix together. So this lust affair, this attraction, was little bit\ncontrolled. The father, the parents of the girl, and the parents of the boy would select. They had\nno personal selection. And that selection was made very scientifically, taking the horoscope of the\ngirl, taking the horoscope of the boy, and calculating, “How this boy and girl will amalgamate?
\n\nHow their lives will be happy?” So many things, they were considered. And when everything was\nsettled, then the marriage would take place. That is the system of old Indian, Vedic principle. And\nso far free love is concerned, as we understand, that was allowed only very in high circles,\nprincely order. Because the girls were educated and grown up and she was given to select her\nhusband, but not directly. We find in so many historical evidences from the Vedic literature that the\ngirl used to express her desire that “I want to marry with that boy,” and the father… This was\namongst the ksatriyas, the princely order, not with others. And the father would give a challenge, a\nbet. And if somebody will come and become victorious, then the girl would be offered. That was in\nspecial cases.
\n\nAnyway in this age, marriage, according to our Vaisnava principles, marriage is allowed because\nthere is male, there is female. Why they should not unite? But not illegally. So when I came in this\ncountry in New York, the boys and girls, they were coming, and some of them offered me to\nbecome disciples. So I saw that most of the boys and girls, they are keeping the boyfriend,\ngirlfriend. So I requested them that if you want to make progress in spiritual life, you have to\nrefrain from four kinds of sinful activities, and these four kinds of sinful activities are illicit sex life,\nfirst; second, nonvegetarian diet; third, intoxication; fourth, gambling. Unless one is free from\nthese four principal activities, one cannot make progress in spiritual life. Because God is pure,\npavitrarh paramarh bhavan, so no impure soul can approach Him. This body is the sign of impurity\nbecause soul has no material body. So anyone in this material world who has this material body is\nto be considered as sinful. But how to get out of this? To get out of it, everything, dovetailing with\nspiritual life. Nirbandhe krsna-sambandhe yukta-vairagyam ucyate. The example is just like milk.
\n\nIf you take too much milk, then there will be disorders in the bowels. You’ll have to pass so many\nstools. But when you approach to a physician… Of course, I am speaking of the Ayur-Vedic Indian\nphysician. If one has got diarrhea or loose bowels, then the physician prescribes curd or yogurt\nwith some medicine. Now, this yogurt or curd is also mixed with medicine. So the man who has\ngot the disease by drinking milk is also cured by the same milk preparation under the direction of\nthe physician. Nobody can argue. The patient cannot argue to the physician that “I have become\ndiseased by drinking milk, and you are prescribing another preparation of the milk?” Yes, because
\n\nit is treated. Similarly, this lust propensity between man and woman, if it is properly treated, then it\ncan turn into love of Godhead.
\n\nSo I am a sannyasl. I have renounced my family life. I have got my children, my grandchildren, I\nhave my wife still living, but I have separated from them. This is called sannyasa. Why I am taking\ninterest again, this family life of my students? Because I want to see them properly progress\ntowards spiritual life. Therefore, although it is not the business of a sannyasl to take part in\nmarriage ceremony, in this country, just to save my students, both boys and girls, from sinful\nactivities, I am personally taking interest that they may become good gentleman and lady by\nmarriage. So I am very happy that those boys and girls who have agreed, and they are now\nmarried and getting children, and they are feeling very happy. Many of them are present in this\nmeeting. From their face, from their activities, it appears that they are very happy. So in this Krsna\nconsciousness society we have got this program that if some boy or girl wants to get married, I\nhelp. So this marriage ceremony is today arranged on that principle. But the present bride and\nbridegroom must know it certainly that this marriage is not for sense gratification. This marriage is\nfor purification of life. So there is no question of divorce. There is no question of separation. So\ndon’t get into married life if you have got such propensity. Our first principle is to become Krsna\nconscious, and other things, secondary. Putrarthe kriyate bharya. If you can produce nice\nchildren, Krsna conscious children, it will, you will do greatest service to the human society.\nBecause the human society is producing children like cats and dogs, the whole human society is\nin trouble. How you can expect peace and prosperity in the society of cats and dogs? Therefore\nthere is necessity. There is necessity to produce children of Krsna consciousness, to train them\nfrom the very beginning. You will be all glad to know that some of our students, very small boys in\nSan Francisco, they are being trained, and they are making wonderful progress. So there is no\nfault of these hippie boys and girls. They have not been trained. Not only here, every part of the\nworld, the educational system is not very satisfactory. From the very beginning of their life they are\nallowed to mix freely, and they are allowed to enjoy sex life unrestricted. This is neither good for\ntheir health nor for education. So therefore we are getting now the result of education:\ncommunists and hippies. So people, those who are guardians of the society, should take serious\nnote of it and make life very regulated.
\n\nWhat is…? The necessities of this life is, because we have got this material body, we must eat, we\nmust sleep, we must defend, and we must mate. These are the demands of this body. But they\nshould be so regulated in Krsna consciousness that it will not be disturbing element, but we shall\nmake progress further and further towards spiritual realization of Krsna consciousness. Therefore,\nnot only the new bride and bridegroom, I request every one of my students who are present that\nthis… The aim of married life is to produce nice children, Krsna conscious children. That is the\nbest service to the human society: produce nice children. Don’t produce cats and dogs. That is my\nrequest. Otherwise don’t produce. Remain separate. Separate means there is no separation, but\ndon’t produce children. That is my request. Putrarthe… Pita na sa syaj jananl sa syat. The\nBhagavata says, “One should not become a father, one should not become a mother, unless they\nare able to protect the children from the imminent danger of death.” What is that? The cycle of\nbirth and death. If you can train your children to Krsna consciousness, then your child will go back\nto Godhead in this life. That should be the aim. As you will try to go back to Godhead in this life,\nsimilarly, you shall take charge of your children that he can also go in this life back to Godhead.\nThe mother’s and father’s duty should be that “This child is born out of my womb, and this is the\nlast phase of his life, to come into this womb of any animal or man—no more material body.” That\nshould be the responsibility of father and mother. That is the direction of Bhagavata.
\n\nSo my dear children, boys and girls, I request you that live happily. There is no restriction. We\ndon’t restrict eating, sleeping, or mating, or defending. But do it in relationship with Krsna, pure\nlife, and be happy in this life and next life.
\n\nThank you very much. Now come forward. I shall begin our… Where is your father and mother?\nYou can please come here. Yes. You can sit down here with the girls. Or give them some pads.\nThey will feel… They are not accustomed to sit. (chuckles) Yes. My disciples, they have been\naccustomed, (chuckles)
\n\nSatyabhama: Paramananda’s parents are here also.
\n\nPrabhupada: Yes. Let them come also.
\n\nSatyabhama: (aside:) Would you like to sit on cushions?
\n\nPrabhupada: So both the parents agree in this marriage.
\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Yes.
\n\nPrabhupada: Oh, thank you. Now those who are initiated, you can chant Hare Krsna on your\nbeads, (devotees chant japa) [break] (recitation of fire sacrifice prayers)
\n\nPrabhupada: Now, you are father?
\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Yes.
\n\nPrabhupada: So you can say to your son-in-law that “So long my daughter such and such was\nunder my custody. From today I am giving this daughter under your custody.” Say it.
\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Kate has been under me until now, and I give her unto your custody.
\n\nPrabhupada: You say, “Yes, I accept.”
\n\nParamananda: Yes, I accept.
\n\nPrabhupada: And you say, “Yes, I agree.”
\n\nParamananda’s father: Yes, I agree.
\n\nPrabhupada: Now you say that “My dear such and such, I agree to serve you throughout my life.”\nSatyabhama: Paramananda, I agree to serve you throughout my life.
\n\nPrabhupada: And you say, “My dear such and such, I take your charge of life throughout without\nhesitation.”
\n\nParamananda: My dear Satyabhama, I take your charge of life throughout without hesitation.
\n\nPrabhupada: So there is no separation in any circumstances. Promise that. There is no\nseparation in any circumstances.
\n\nParamananda: So there is no separation in any circumstances.
\n\nPrabhupada: Yes. Now you garland this… You change the garland. Now you come to this side.\nYou go to that side. Now you are legal husband and wife. Is that all right? Yes. Now chant Hare\nKrsna. [break] (prayers, fire sacrifice) Now offer this plantain like this, slowly. Thank you.
\n\nSatyabhama: Hare Krsna. (devotees repeat last prayer of sacrifice after Prabhupada, the maha-\nmantra.)
\n\nPrabhupada: Now bow down, (leads in recitation of pranama mantra) You chant Hare Krsna.\n(end)
\n", "content_text": "Excerpt from Wedding Ceremonies by Vedantist, as\nretrieved from the Internet Archive.\n\n680722WL.MON\n\nParamananda & Satyabhama’s Wedding, Montreal, July 22, 1968\n\nPrabhupada: Gurudasa, you don’t feel?\n\nGurudasa: Yes, very good.\n\nPrabhupada: This last verse… It is not last. It is the third of Brahma-sutra, Brahma-sarhhita. Alola-\ncandraka-lasad-vanamalya-varhsT-ratnangadarh pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam [Bs. 5.31], This verse…\nThere are about one hundred verses in the Brahma-sarhhita, and this verse, I think, about thirty-\neighth verse… So description of Govinda, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The picture is\nhere. So Govinda is not impersonal. And it is distinctly stated here that alola-candraka-lasad-\nvanamalya-varhsl: [Bs. 5.31] “The Lord is decorated with flower garland, and He has got a flute in\nHis hands.” And pranaya-keli-kala-vilasam: “And He is engaged in transcendental, conjugal love,\nRadha and Krsna.” So this love which is in our experience within this material world, man and\nwoman, it is not unnatural. It is in God also there. And the Brahma-sutra, Vedanta-sutra, in the\nbeginning says that “Who is Brahman, the Supreme Person or the Absolute Truth?” Athato\nbrahma jijnasa, questioning “What is that Absolute Truth?” The answer is janmady asya yatah:\n\n[SB 1.1.1] “The Absolute Truth is that from whom everything emanates.” Very simple definition.\nThat means the fountainhead of everything, the source of everything. Therefore here in this\nmaterial world we see that the attraction for man and woman, woman’s attraction for man, man’s\nattraction for woman, is so prominent. Not only in human society, but in other than: animal society,\ncat society, dog society, bird society, there is always the attraction, man and woman, or male and\nfemale. Why? The answer is in the Vedanta-sutra: janmady asya yatah [SB 1.1.1], Because it is\nthere in the Absolute Truth. Without being present in the Absolute Truth, how it can be manifested\nin the relative truth?\n\nThis world is called relative world. It is not Absolute. Relative. Difference, two, duality. We cannot\nunderstand a man without knowing a woman. We cannot understand father without understanding\na son or a mother. Relativity. But in Absolute world, everything is one. So this love between male\nand female, conjugal love, we Vaisnava philosophers… Because everyone, according to Vedic\nsystem, everyone has to follow the Vedanta-sutra. There are two section of philosophers in India,\napproved; not, I mean to say, manufactured philosopher, mental speculators, but actually those\nwho are counted valuable. There are two classes of philosophers, namely the impersonalist and\npersonalist. The Vaisnava, they accept that the Absolute Truth is person, and the MayavadT\nphilosophers, they say that Absolute Truth is impersonal. That is the difference. Otherwise their\nprocess of other paraphernalia, execution of understanding, is almost the same. Now our\nVaisnava philosopher’s argument is that how the Absolute Truth can be impersonal? Because\nhere, in this world, in our experience, we see everything personal. So unless the personality, the\n\nindividuality, or the individual attraction is there in the Absolute Truth, how they can be\nrepresented here in the relative truth?\n\nSo apart from that argumental point of view, our presentation is that this conjugal love between\nman and woman is not unnatural. It is quite natural because it is in the Absolute Truth, as we find\nfrom Vedic description, that the Absolute Truth, Personality of Godhead, is engaged in conjugal\nloving affairs, Radha-Krsna. But the same Radha-Krsna love matter has permeated through\nmatter. Therefore it is perverted reflection. Here in this material world, the so-called love is not\nactual love. It is lust. Here the male and female are attracted not by love but by lust. So in this\nKrsna consciousness society, because we are trying to approach the Absolute Truth, the lust\npropensity has to be converted into pure love. That is the proposal. So in India still, amongst the\nstrict followers of Vedic principles, this lust affair is adjusted spiritually. What is that? The boys and\ngirls, they are not allowed free mixing before marriage. Especially… Both the boys… Here, one of\nour students, he was in India, and he tried to talk with a young girl on the street, and he (she) was\ninsulted. He was surprised. Because the practice is there that no young boy or young girl can talk\nwith… Of course, now it is different. Even up to our young time we have seen that without being\nmarried, no girl, no boy, could mix together. So this lust affair, this attraction, was little bit\ncontrolled. The father, the parents of the girl, and the parents of the boy would select. They had\nno personal selection. And that selection was made very scientifically, taking the horoscope of the\ngirl, taking the horoscope of the boy, and calculating, “How this boy and girl will amalgamate?\n\nHow their lives will be happy?” So many things, they were considered. And when everything was\nsettled, then the marriage would take place. That is the system of old Indian, Vedic principle. And\nso far free love is concerned, as we understand, that was allowed only very in high circles,\nprincely order. Because the girls were educated and grown up and she was given to select her\nhusband, but not directly. We find in so many historical evidences from the Vedic literature that the\ngirl used to express her desire that “I want to marry with that boy,” and the father… This was\namongst the ksatriyas, the princely order, not with others. And the father would give a challenge, a\nbet. And if somebody will come and become victorious, then the girl would be offered. That was in\nspecial cases.\n\nAnyway in this age, marriage, according to our Vaisnava principles, marriage is allowed because\nthere is male, there is female. Why they should not unite? But not illegally. So when I came in this\ncountry in New York, the boys and girls, they were coming, and some of them offered me to\nbecome disciples. So I saw that most of the boys and girls, they are keeping the boyfriend,\ngirlfriend. So I requested them that if you want to make progress in spiritual life, you have to\nrefrain from four kinds of sinful activities, and these four kinds of sinful activities are illicit sex life,\nfirst; second, nonvegetarian diet; third, intoxication; fourth, gambling. Unless one is free from\nthese four principal activities, one cannot make progress in spiritual life. Because God is pure,\npavitrarh paramarh bhavan, so no impure soul can approach Him. This body is the sign of impurity\nbecause soul has no material body. So anyone in this material world who has this material body is\nto be considered as sinful. But how to get out of this? To get out of it, everything, dovetailing with\nspiritual life. Nirbandhe krsna-sambandhe yukta-vairagyam ucyate. The example is just like milk.\n\nIf you take too much milk, then there will be disorders in the bowels. You’ll have to pass so many\nstools. But when you approach to a physician… Of course, I am speaking of the Ayur-Vedic Indian\nphysician. If one has got diarrhea or loose bowels, then the physician prescribes curd or yogurt\nwith some medicine. Now, this yogurt or curd is also mixed with medicine. So the man who has\ngot the disease by drinking milk is also cured by the same milk preparation under the direction of\nthe physician. Nobody can argue. The patient cannot argue to the physician that “I have become\ndiseased by drinking milk, and you are prescribing another preparation of the milk?” Yes, because\n\nit is treated. Similarly, this lust propensity between man and woman, if it is properly treated, then it\ncan turn into love of Godhead.\n\nSo I am a sannyasl. I have renounced my family life. I have got my children, my grandchildren, I\nhave my wife still living, but I have separated from them. This is called sannyasa. Why I am taking\ninterest again, this family life of my students? Because I want to see them properly progress\ntowards spiritual life. Therefore, although it is not the business of a sannyasl to take part in\nmarriage ceremony, in this country, just to save my students, both boys and girls, from sinful\nactivities, I am personally taking interest that they may become good gentleman and lady by\nmarriage. So I am very happy that those boys and girls who have agreed, and they are now\nmarried and getting children, and they are feeling very happy. Many of them are present in this\nmeeting. From their face, from their activities, it appears that they are very happy. So in this Krsna\nconsciousness society we have got this program that if some boy or girl wants to get married, I\nhelp. So this marriage ceremony is today arranged on that principle. But the present bride and\nbridegroom must know it certainly that this marriage is not for sense gratification. This marriage is\nfor purification of life. So there is no question of divorce. There is no question of separation. So\ndon’t get into married life if you have got such propensity. Our first principle is to become Krsna\nconscious, and other things, secondary. Putrarthe kriyate bharya. If you can produce nice\nchildren, Krsna conscious children, it will, you will do greatest service to the human society.\nBecause the human society is producing children like cats and dogs, the whole human society is\nin trouble. How you can expect peace and prosperity in the society of cats and dogs? Therefore\nthere is necessity. There is necessity to produce children of Krsna consciousness, to train them\nfrom the very beginning. You will be all glad to know that some of our students, very small boys in\nSan Francisco, they are being trained, and they are making wonderful progress. So there is no\nfault of these hippie boys and girls. They have not been trained. Not only here, every part of the\nworld, the educational system is not very satisfactory. From the very beginning of their life they are\nallowed to mix freely, and they are allowed to enjoy sex life unrestricted. This is neither good for\ntheir health nor for education. So therefore we are getting now the result of education:\ncommunists and hippies. So people, those who are guardians of the society, should take serious\nnote of it and make life very regulated.\n\nWhat is…? The necessities of this life is, because we have got this material body, we must eat, we\nmust sleep, we must defend, and we must mate. These are the demands of this body. But they\nshould be so regulated in Krsna consciousness that it will not be disturbing element, but we shall\nmake progress further and further towards spiritual realization of Krsna consciousness. Therefore,\nnot only the new bride and bridegroom, I request every one of my students who are present that\nthis… The aim of married life is to produce nice children, Krsna conscious children. That is the\nbest service to the human society: produce nice children. Don’t produce cats and dogs. That is my\nrequest. Otherwise don’t produce. Remain separate. Separate means there is no separation, but\ndon’t produce children. That is my request. Putrarthe… Pita na sa syaj jananl sa syat. The\nBhagavata says, “One should not become a father, one should not become a mother, unless they\nare able to protect the children from the imminent danger of death.” What is that? The cycle of\nbirth and death. If you can train your children to Krsna consciousness, then your child will go back\nto Godhead in this life. That should be the aim. As you will try to go back to Godhead in this life,\nsimilarly, you shall take charge of your children that he can also go in this life back to Godhead.\nThe mother’s and father’s duty should be that “This child is born out of my womb, and this is the\nlast phase of his life, to come into this womb of any animal or man—no more material body.” That\nshould be the responsibility of father and mother. That is the direction of Bhagavata.\n\nSo my dear children, boys and girls, I request you that live happily. There is no restriction. We\ndon’t restrict eating, sleeping, or mating, or defending. But do it in relationship with Krsna, pure\nlife, and be happy in this life and next life.\n\nThank you very much. Now come forward. I shall begin our… Where is your father and mother?\nYou can please come here. Yes. You can sit down here with the girls. Or give them some pads.\nThey will feel… They are not accustomed to sit. (chuckles) Yes. My disciples, they have been\naccustomed, (chuckles)\n\nSatyabhama: Paramananda’s parents are here also.\n\nPrabhupada: Yes. Let them come also.\n\nSatyabhama: (aside:) Would you like to sit on cushions?\n\nPrabhupada: So both the parents agree in this marriage.\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Yes.\n\nPrabhupada: Oh, thank you. Now those who are initiated, you can chant Hare Krsna on your\nbeads, (devotees chant japa) [break] (recitation of fire sacrifice prayers)\n\nPrabhupada: Now, you are father?\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Yes.\n\nPrabhupada: So you can say to your son-in-law that “So long my daughter such and such was\nunder my custody. From today I am giving this daughter under your custody.” Say it.\n\nSatyabhama’s father: Kate has been under me until now, and I give her unto your custody.\n\nPrabhupada: You say, “Yes, I accept.”\n\nParamananda: Yes, I accept.\n\nPrabhupada: And you say, “Yes, I agree.”\n\nParamananda’s father: Yes, I agree.\n\nPrabhupada: Now you say that “My dear such and such, I agree to serve you throughout my life.”\nSatyabhama: Paramananda, I agree to serve you throughout my life.\n\nPrabhupada: And you say, “My dear such and such, I take your charge of life throughout without\nhesitation.”\n\nParamananda: My dear Satyabhama, I take your charge of life throughout without hesitation.\n\nPrabhupada: So there is no separation in any circumstances. Promise that. There is no\nseparation in any circumstances.\n\nParamananda: So there is no separation in any circumstances.\n\nPrabhupada: Yes. Now you garland this… You change the garland. Now you come to this side.\nYou go to that side. Now you are legal husband and wife. Is that all right? Yes. Now chant Hare\nKrsna. [break] (prayers, fire sacrifice) Now offer this plantain like this, slowly. Thank you.\n\nSatyabhama: Hare Krsna. (devotees repeat last prayer of sacrifice after Prabhupada, the maha-\nmantra.)\n\nPrabhupada: Now bow down, (leads in recitation of pranama mantra) You chant Hare Krsna.\n(end)\n", "summary": "What appears to be a Hindu wedding ceremony transcript from the 60s.", "banner_image": "http://shelbybrad.com/assets/images/1200x630/heart-2.jpg", "author": { "name": "Brad Czerniak" }, "tags": [], "date_published": "1968-07-22T00:00:00+00:00" } ] }