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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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You wrote your opinions on the Order of the Phoenix, what about the Death Eaters? That's another way of saying Lucius, Bellatrix, and anybody else. I honestly feel that we're running out of HP characters for you to write your opinion and reasoning about, so yeah~

We honestly are. When people start asking me questions about Harry’s nameless and faceless classmates I feel like we’re scraping the bottom of my barrel of Harry Potter opinions.

Though, that said, this is still a very large ask if you want me to analyze very Death Eater ever or even the Death Eaters as a whole (which is worthy of its own post).

So, we’ll compromise, and I’ll just look at the two you name dropped.

Lucius Malfoy

To me, Lucius is by far one of the more intelligent Death Eaters. He’s the guy who makes them almost look classy. I say almost, because Lucius is still a racist domestic terrorist and as the series goes on Tom gleefully drags him into being less classy by the minute (his house becomes a POW camp and housing for the dregs of society, Lucius just sobs, trying to be thankful he’s somehow still alive).

Lucius is rich, sophisticated, and is probably the most politically powerful man in the country. He has a beautiful wife he has... a son (sorry Draco, but you do not live up to your father) the guy has it all.

Which makes it very surprising that he got dragged into this mess. But you see, Lucius is paying for that tragedy we call youth.

Also, as a caveat, I’m about to headcanon hard and will not bother to get into the details of why I think x, y, or z in this post.

Ten years prior to the start of canon, Lucius is a very young man, probably very charismatic, certainly believes he’s intelligent and probably gets decent grades, but nonetheless the kind of stupid you see in men ages 15-25.

He’s likely chafing under his aging father’s strict guidance, knows he’s not going to be Lord Malfoy for years yet, wants to get out there, prove himself, and make a difference for his country. More importantly for Lucius, there’s this hip, exciting, new thing that all his cousins and friends are getting into called “The Death Eaters” (yes, I don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis/Death Eaters 1.0 ever happened, I think it’s ridiculous that fandom and JKR does, I could go into why but not in this post).

The Death Eaters are led by the single handedly most beautiful, charismatic, man in Britain. (Yes, I headcanon Tom’s still blindingly attractive at this stage, because it makes much more sense to me but we’re not getting into that here.) A mysterious man by the name of Voldemort, Salazar Slytherin’s long lost heir, who has come to resurrect the wizarding world’s true heritage and purge the land of the muggle stain. (Yes, I do believe that no one, not even Lucius who is later given the diary, knew who Tom really was. I believe Regulus’ had only the vaguest idea, informed mostly by Tom’s use of Kreacher to place the locket.) This is the most exciting thing to have ever happened, the rallies probably consist of rich kids drunk out of their minds and maybe even high on a little wizard cocaine, and Lucius is down for it precisely because his father says “Lucius, this is stupid, please don’t embarrass the family.” WELL LUCIUS IS GOING TO EMBARRASS THE FAMILY, DAD! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?!

And for a while, it looks like Lucius made the right choice. Things are happening, they’re actually going out and killing the mudbloods! Unlike Regulus, Lucius never has that “wait a minute” moment as he realizes that Voldemort’s actually far more efficiently eliminating pureblood families and sowing dissention in what was once a unanimous force among the Wizengamot (the other pureblood lords aren’t necessarily pro muggleborn, per se, but they get a bit queasy at the thought of blowing them up or Merlin forbid actually blowing up their own public venues wizards use).

And then October 31st, 1981 happens, and it all comes crashing down. Lucius has to desperately lie his ass off, having only the flimsiest lie to rely on, has to hand out a shit ton of bribes, and manages to squeeze his way out of being imprisoned in Azkaban.

I’m sure Abraxas looked at his son, with his tattoo on his arm that makes him another man’s slave, at the utter destruction of the Black family, and just shook his head going, “Clean up your mess, Dumbass Son”

And Lucius does to the best of his ability. While some will always suspect him of being a Death Eater, while some know it, he’s able to climb very high in influence in their ridiculously tiny community. Granted, I do think he messed up, and could never for example run for minister given everything (if Crouch can’t rerun then Lucius certainly can’t). He also shows us that in some ways he is not above the law, he’s very afraid his house will be searched without warrant in The Chamber of Secrets, and this is in part why he dumps Tom Riddle’s diary off onto Ginny.

However, he wields total control of the Prophet, has a seat on the Wizengamot, has the ear of the current Minister, is on the Hogwarts’ Board of Governors, and has his hands in pretty much every pie he can.

I imagine during this period Lucius grows up. He brushes the indiscretions of his youth under the carpet, gleefully leaving it all behind him, and the only real friend he maintains contact with from that period is Severus, the least zealot like of all of them. (Crabbe and Goyle Sr aren’t friends, they’re minions).

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a racist slime bag, and I don’t think he really regrets the domestic terrorism. He just regrets nearly getting caught and putting his entire family’s security on the line. He witnessed first hand what happened to the Blacks.

And then the worst thing happens: Tom Riddle rises from the dead. He rises, impossibly, from the dead when Lucius has his own hand caught in the cookie jar.

Lucius has been living a life of luxury and influence while his great master, the man he had pledged everything to, was dead. Worse, Lucius took what was described as a treasured item to be protected at all costs, and not only threw it away but sent it to Hogwarts where it caused massive havoc and was ultimately destroyed.

And Lucius, I imagine, no longer wants to serve a master.

But he has no choice. And so begins Lucius’ descent into misery and hell as he’s given an increasing set of impossible, horrific, tasks in punishment that involve him watching as his wife and son are put through hell.

I believe Tom holds a special place in his cold, black, passive aggressive heart for Lucius Malfoy.

First, Tom makes Lucius’ house his headquarters. Oh, Lucius, you have a very nice, very large, estate? Why don’t you host your beloved, mad, cousin, her equally mad husband and brother-in-law? Oh, Bellatrix threatened to cut off your ear? Well, she’s just so passionate!

Second, Lucius is told to go get the prophecy. Well, this is easier said than done. He nearly succeeds but then it all turns into the world’s largest clusterfuck that ends in two notable things. First, the prophecy is lost forever, shattered. Second, the government admits that Voldemort is truly resurrected. Both of these things are very bad in Tom’s book. And the blame can easily be put on Lucius’ head.

In response to this, Draco is now given an impossible task that Draco is too stupid to realize is designed to cause him (and his family) as much misery as possible. Draco is to assassinate Dumbledore.

Likely, Tom was already informed by Snape that Dumbledore was dying. The blackened hand was too obvious a tell coming from too obvious a source for the pair to have hid it. I think trying to hide such information would have immediately blown Snape’s cover. So, Tom knows the man is dying, and doesn’t see fit to tell Draco this.

Instead, he tells Draco, “Kill Dumbledore as soon as possible or I deliver you to Fenrir Grayback.” Draco, however, is young and stupid, so he honestly thinks he is doing this to restore the family honor, earn glory for himself and for the cause, and is expected to do this entirely by himself. As a result, when Narcissa begs Snape to aid Draco, Draco blows them both off and only accepts help from Bellatrix because HE CAN DO THIS ON HIS OWN! DRACO IS A MAN.

This, of course, doesn’t work out either. Draco doesn’t deliver the killing blow, Snape does, but Tom decides to give him a pass.

Instead he moves on to his next plan which is making the Malfoy manor his torture chamber and POW camp. Even Draco, at this point, realizes this all kind of sucks.

And then Voldemort finally dies a second time, and I’m sure Lucius just stares numbly at his malformed corpse, wondering if it will really take this time.

So that’s Lucius for you, paying always for his mistakes, and pretending he’s just as much of a nutcase as Bellatrix to fit in.

Bellatrix LeStrange

God, compared to the novel that is Lucius’ ridiculous life, I really don’t have much to say about her because I feel like there’s not much too her.

Bellatrix reminds me a lot of the Manson family, she gives off those same vibes. Point being, I think even before Azkaban (while Azkaban certainly didn’t help), she was insane and a little too worshipful of Voldemort.

I guess I can start there, I don’t think Bellamort is a thing, at all.

Tom may have, probably did, have sex with her before he died but afterwards? In that body? Forget about it.

That said, I’m sure Bellatrix both wanted to have sex and is convinced she did have sex to produce whatever the hell Delphi even is. It just wasn’t with Tom, and probably was Rodolphous with a Halloween mask on his face as they got a little too into role play.

And there we go, I suppose, I can’t take Bellatrix seriously. You often see her portrayed as sexy femme fatale Death Eater, the most competent of all of them, if a bit of a sadist.

Oh she might be a very good duelist but she’s... Bellatrix.

She prances around in corsets, shrieking madly, and just what part of that is supposed to be femme fatale? I literally cannot take her seriously on any level. When I even try to write her seriously, in very serious stories, I end up with lines like the following:

"My lord, if there's anything you need… Anything from me, specifically, as a woman…"

- Bright Eyes

That was my best attempt. That was the best I could come up with. It’s still something that belongs in a comedy.

So, I don’t think Tom really corrupted her. I think without Voldemort she still probably would have been blowing up Diagon Alley, just in a much less organized manner.

Even in canon she does ridiculous things. For example, Bellatrix, frankly, could have easily avoided prison.

For weeks after the dark lord fell neither she, her husband, Barty, nor her brother-in-law were arrested. Bellatrix in grief and utter disbelief that the dark lord could ever do something so mortal as die, said “remember that other house our lord mentioned, THEY MIGHT HAVE INFORMATION, LET’S GO MURDER THE LONGBOTTOMS!” They torture and kidnap Frank, demanding he tell them where their master is, THEY KNOW HE KNOWS. He doesn’t know. They go too far and torture the man into being a vegetable. “Shit, GET THE WIFE!” They go get the wife, do the same thing, with the same results.

They now have no information on the dark lord, two well regarded aurors tortured into brain damage, and are quickly caught and brought before the court with absolutely no “I was imperiused” excuse they can give out.

How am I supposed to take her in any way seriously?

I mean, to end your life killed in a duel with Molly Weasley. That just says it all.

#ask #anon

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imran16829 · 4 years

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No Friend But the Mountains Writer Released: Behrouz Boochani Biography, Wiki, Age, Family, Net Worth, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Fast Facts You Need to Know

Behrouz Boochani Biography, Wiki

Behrouz Boochani is an Iranian Kurd journalist who arrived in New Zealand on Thursday. He vowing never to return to Papua New Guinea (PNG) where he was detained. Behrouz was sent to PNG's Manus Island in 2013, after arriving in Australian territory by boat. Boochani is the co-director, along with Iranian filmmaker Arash Kamali Sarvestani, of the documentary Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time, has published numerous articles in leading media internationally about the plight of refugees held by the Australian government on Manus Island and has won several awards. His memoir, No Friend But the Mountains: Writing from Manus Prison, won the Victorian Prize for Literature and the Victorian Premier's Prize for Nonfiction in January 2019. The book was tapped out on a mobile phone in a series of single messages over time and translated from Persian into English by Omid Tofighian. Behrouz Boochani wrote a book via Whatsapp from inside a detention centre has finally left the island where he was held for six years by Australia. Behrouz Boochani Quick Bio Born 23 July 1983 (age 36) Ilam, Iran Occupation Journalist, writer, filmmaker, refugee advocate Residence Manus Island Education Political science, political geography and geopolitics Alma mater Tarbiat Modares University Tarbiat Moallem (Kharazmi) University Notable works No Friend But the Mountains: Writing from Manus Prison; Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time (film) Notable awards Victorian Prize for Literature Victorian Premier's Prize for Nonfiction

Behrouz Boochani Detention

Mr Boochani arrived on Australia's Christmas Island in July 2013. In the same month, the country's then-prime minister vowed no asylum seeker arriving by boat would ever be resettled in Australia, even if found to be genuine refugees. Australia says its policies are necessary to deter dangerous attempts to reach the country by sea. Boochani began contacting journalists and human rights defenders outside the camp. He collected information on human rights abuses in the field and sent them via a hidden mobile phone to news organizations and advocacy groups such as The Guardian, The Sydney Morning Herald, Refugee Action Collective and the United Nations. In September 2015, PEN International (the Melbourne and Norwegian branches of which Boochani is now an honorary member and a coalition of human rights groups launched an international campaign on behalf of Boochani, urging the Australian government to fulfill its obligations at the beginning of non-refoulement, as defined in article 33 of the United Nations Convention on the Status of Refugees Several campaigns have urged people to write to Peter Dutton, Minister of Immigration and Border Protection, the Prime Minister Australian and high commissioners. Journalists without borders warned that dissent was not tolerated by Iran's theocratic regime, and that "Boochani's freedom would be in great danger if he were forced to return to Iran." Boochani has repeatedly asked for I handed it to the UN. He also became a spokesman for the men in his complex, Foxtrot, meeting with PNG immigration officials and other officials, as well as Amnesty International and UNHCR representatives. He has been moved twice to Chauka, the solitary confinement block built with shipping containers, for three days. He was also imprisoned during the 2015 hunger strike that was stifled by force, spending eight days inside Lorengau prison and released without charges after being asked to stop reporting. He said in a 12-minute radio interview on Autonomous Action Radio before the release of his Chauka movie, Please Tell Us the Time in 2016, that he intended to show the Australian public what the government was doing with the detainees on the island , and spoke of the mental torture caused by the deprivation of hope. In March 2017, Boochani's plight was raised in the Australian House of Representatives by Australian MP Adam Bandt. Although he was forcibly moved to an accommodation outside the detention center a few weeks after it was officially closed on October 31, 2017, Boochani cannot leave the island without travel documents, and the only way to reach the nearby town Lorengau is on an official bus, and refugees are routinely searched in the body when they leave and return. He wrote about what was happening and his fear during the siege that followed the closure, as well as the articles he wrote for The Guardian at that time, among other things, in WhatsApp messages to translator and friend Omid Tofighian, which were later published in its totality . On November 28, 2017, Boochani sent a message to the Australian public through the Asylum Seekers Resource Center (ASRC) and posted it on his website, thanking them for their humanity, and describing the recent peaceful protest of refugees in the island after the closure of the detention center, which was met with force. He said Peter Dutton was not right in saying that his only wish was to come to Australia; They just want freedom and security in any safe country, and they were not free or safe in Manus. In a speech given to the guests at a dinner of the Center for Human Rights Law in 2018, he expressed the opinion that the Australian Government was manipulating its people, using propaganda focused on national security. In a radio interview with SBS Radio, he thanked "the many brave people in Australia who have been fighting this system," saying that Australians are not cruel and if they were fully aware of exactly what is happening, they would not have let Your government does this. Boochani was presented as the subject of the Australian history of ABC TV. He said he would not continue with resettlement in Papua New Guinea, and now regrets his decision to target Australia.

Works from Manus Island

Mientras vivía en el centro de detención de Manus Island, Boochani ha publicado muchos de sus artículos en las noticias en línea y otros medios, como "The Day My Friend Hamid Kehazaei Died" en The Guardian y "Life on Manus: Island of the Damned" en The Saturday Paper y otros de HuffPost, Financial Times y New Matilda. El periodista guardián Ben Doherty, al aceptar el premio Amnistía Internacional Australia en nombre de Behrouz en 2017, dijo que Boochani "... con razón, se ve a sí mismo como un periodista que trabaja en Manus Island, cuyo trabajo es ser testigo de las injusticias y la violencia y privación de la detención en alta mar ". Algunos de sus artículos han sido publicados en sitios web kurdos en Irán. También ha publicado poemas en línea y narra su historia en el galardonado documental animado Nowhere Lines: Voices of Manus Island, realizado por el cineasta británico Lucas Schrank en 2015). La película Chauka, Please Tell Us the Time fue filmada dentro del centro de detención de Manus Island por Boochani, completamente en un teléfono móvil, y estrenada el 11 de junio de 2017 en el Festival de Cine de Sydney. Una crítica de la película fue escrita por el galardonado escritor Arnold Zable. En febrero de 2018, escribió un artículo sobre el asesinato de su amigo Reza Barati durante los disturbios en el campamento en 2014 y la injusticia de los eventos que siguieron. Se incluye un poema sobre su "gigante gentil y mejor amigo", llamado Our Mothers, un poema para Reza. En marzo de 2018, el documental de larga duración, Stop the Boats! (el título que refleja un eslogan del gobierno), dirigido por Simon V. Kurian, fue lanzado, con Boochani y otros. No Friend But the Mountains In July 2018, Picador published his memoirs No Friend But the Mountains: Writing from Manus Prison. Written in prose and poetry, he narrates his boat trip from Indonesia, his detention on Manus Island and the lives (and deaths) of other prisoners, as well as observations on the Australian guards and the local people of Papua. The book was laboriously used in a mobile phone in Persian in fragments through WhatsApp and translated from Persian into English by his friend Omid Tofighian. He postulates that prison is a kiriarchal system (a term taken from feminist theory), one where different forms of oppression intersect; Oppression is not random but intentional, designed to isolate and create friction among prisoners, leading to despair and broken spirits. In his preface to the work, Australian writer Richard Flanagan refers to Boochani as "a great Australian writer." No Friend But the Mountains won the Victorian Prize for Literature and the Victorian Premier Non-Fiction Award on January 31, 2019. There were questions about Boochani's eligibility for both awards because participants had previously limited themselves to Australian citizens or permanent residents, but he was given a waiver by the prize managers and the judges was unanimous in recognizing his literary excellence. The director of the Wheeler Center, Michael Williams, said the judges thought that the story of what is happening on Manus Island is essentially an Australian story, and that "he made it completely consistent with the intent of the awards." In an interview with writer Arnold Zable after the award, Boochani said he has many conflicting thoughts about it, but sees it as a "political statement of the literary and creative arts community in Australia, and all those who disagree with government thinking. " In April 2019, the book received a Special Prize at the Premier Literary Awards of New South Wales, whose judges described it as "an outstanding literary work in its own right", in addition to being "... notable for the circumstances of its production". .... compelling and shocking content. " On May 2, it was announced that the work had won the Australian Book Industry Award (ABIA) for the general nonfiction book of the year.

Behrouz Boochani Twitter

"I just arrived in New Zealand," he tweeted on Thursday. "So exciting to get freedom after more than six years. I just arrived in New Zealand. So exciting to get freedom after more than six years. I have been invited by Word Festival in Christchurch and will participate in an event here. Thank you to all the friends who made this happen. — Behrouz Boochani (@BehrouzBoochani) November 14, 2019

Awards

Diaspora Symposium Social Justice Award in October 2016. On the shortlist of four for the Index on Censorship's Freedom of Expression Award in the category of Journalism in 2017. Tampa Award, April 2018, presented by Rural Australians for Refugees, for "selfless and substantial contribution to the welfare of refugees". Amnesty International Australia 2017 Media Award, for his work on The Guardian and The Saturday Paper. STARTTS Humanitarian Award (Media), for "Media outlets, journalists or media officers supporting, prioritising and/or raising awareness of refugee issues". Voltaire Award, Empty Chair Award, awarded July 2018 by Liberty Australia. Anna Politkovskaya Award for Journalism, October 2018.] Sir Ronald Wilson Human Rights Award, October 2018. Victorian Prize for Literature and the Victorian Premier's Prize for Nonfiction, January 2019, for No Friend But the Mountains: Writing from Manus Prison. Special Award, New South Wales Premier's Literary Awards, April 2019, for No Friend But the Mountains. General Non-Fiction Book of the Year, Australian Book Industry Awards, April 2019, for No Friend But the Mountains. National Biography Award, August 2019, for No Friend But the Mountains. Read the full article

#BehrouzBoochani #BehrouzBoochaniAge #BehrouzBoochaniBio #BehrouzBoochaniBiography #behrouzboochanibook #BehrouzBoochaniChildren #BehrouzBoochaniFacebook #BehrouzBoochaniFamily #BehrouzBoochaniInstagram #BehrouzBoochaniKnownFastFacts #BehrouzBoochaniNetworth #BehrouzBoochaniTwitter #BehrouzBoochaniwife #BehrouzBoochaniWiki #BehrouzBoochaniWikipedia #manusisland #nofriendbutthemountains

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readbookywooks · 7 years

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All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, Where light and darkness in perpetual round Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heaven Grateful vicissitude, like day and night; Light issues forth, and at the other door Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour To veil the Heaven, though darkness there might well Seem twilight here: And now went forth the Morn Such as in highest Heaven arrayed in gold Empyreal; from before her vanished Night, Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view: War he perceived, war in procinct; and found Already known what he for news had thought To have reported: Gladly then he mixed Among those friendly Powers, who him received With joy and acclamations loud, that one, That of so many myriads fallen, yet one Returned not lost. On to the sacred hill They led him high applauded, and present Before the seat supreme; from whence a voice, From midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard. Servant of God. Well done; well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintained Against revolted multitudes the cause Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; And for the testimony of truth hast borne Universal reproach, far worse to bear Than violence; for this was all thy care To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds Judged thee perverse: The easier conquest now Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, Back on thy foes more glorious to return, Than scorned thou didst depart; and to subdue By force, who reason for their law refuse, Right reason for their law, and for their King Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince, And thou, in military prowess next, Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons Invincible; lead forth my armed Saints, By thousands and by millions, ranged for fight, Equal in number to that Godless crew Rebellious: Them with fire and hostile arms Fearless assault; and, to the brow of Heaven Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss, Into their place of punishment, the gulf Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide His fiery Chaos to receive their fall. So spake the Sovran Voice, and clouds began To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign Of wrath awaked; nor with less dread the loud Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow: At which command the Powers militant, That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate joined Of union irresistible, moved on In silence their bright legions, to the sound Of instrumental harmony, that breathed Heroick ardour to adventurous deeds Under their God-like leaders, in the cause Of God and his Messiah. On they move Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill, Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground Their march was, and the passive air upbore Their nimble tread; as when the total kind Of birds, in orderly array on wing, Came summoned over Eden to receive Their names of thee; so over many a tract Of Heaven they marched, and many a province wide, Tenfold the length of this terrene: At last, Far in the horizon to the north appeared From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched In battailous aspect, and nearer view Bristled with upright beams innumerable Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shields Various, with boastful argument portrayed, The banded Powers of Satan hasting on With furious expedition; for they weened That self-same day, by fight or by surprise, To win the mount of God, and on his throne To set the Envier of his state, the proud Aspirer; but their thoughts proved fond and vain In the mid way: Though strange to us it seemed At first, that Angel should with Angel war, And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet So oft in festivals of joy and love Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, Hymning the Eternal Father: But the shout Of battle now began, and rushing sound Of onset ended soon each milder thought. High in the midst, exalted as a God, The Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, Idol of majesty divine, enclosed With flaming Cherubim, and golden shields; Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now "twixt host and host but narrow space was left, A dreadful interval, and front to front Presented stood in terrible array Of hideous length: Before the cloudy van, On the rough edge of battle ere it joined, Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, Came towering, armed in adamant and gold; Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, And thus his own undaunted heart explores. O Heaven! that such resemblance of the Highest Should yet remain, where faith and realty Remain not: Wherefore should not strength and might There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove Where boldest, though to fight unconquerable? His puissance, trusting in the Almighty's aid, I mean to try, whose reason I have tried Unsound and false; nor is it aught but just, That he, who in debate of truth hath won, Should win in arms, in both disputes alike Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, When reason hath to deal with force, yet so Most reason is that reason overcome. So pondering, and from his armed peers Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met His daring foe, at this prevention more Incensed, and thus securely him defied. Proud, art thou met? thy hope was to have reached The highth of thy aspiring unopposed, The throne of God unguarded, and his side Abandoned, at the terrour of thy power Or potent tongue: Fool!not to think how vain Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms; Who out of smallest things could, without end, Have raised incessant armies to defeat Thy folly; or with solitary hand Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow, Unaided, could have finished thee, and whelmed Thy legions under darkness: But thou seest All are not of thy train; there be, who faith Prefer, and piety to God, though then To thee not visible, when I alone Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent From all: My sect thou seest;now learn too late How few sometimes may know, when thousands err. Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, Thus answered. Ill for thee, but in wished hour Of my revenge, first sought for, thou returnest From flight, seditious Angel! to receive Thy merited reward, the first assay Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose A third part of the Gods, in synod met Their deities to assert; who, while they feel Vigour divine within them, can allow Omnipotence to none. But well thou comest Before thy fellows, ambitious to win From me some plume, that thy success may show Destruction to the rest: This pause between, (Unanswered lest thou boast) to let thee know, At first I thought that Liberty and Heaven To heavenly souls had been all one; but now I see that most through sloth had rather serve, Ministring Spirits, trained up in feast and song! Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy of Heaven, Servility with freedom to contend, As both their deeds compared this day shall prove. To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied. Apostate! still thou errest, nor end wilt find Of erring, from the path of truth remote: Unjustly thou depravest it with the name Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains, Or Nature: God and Nature bid the same, When he who rules is worthiest, and excels Them whom he governs. This is servitude, To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled; Yet lewdly darest our ministring upbraid. Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom; let me serve In Heaven God ever blest, and his divine Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed; Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: Mean while From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight, This greeting on thy impious crest receive. So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield, Such ruin intercept: Ten paces huge He back recoiled; the tenth on bended knee His massy spear upstaid; as if on earth Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat, Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seised The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout, Presage of victory, and fierce desire Of battle: Whereat Michael bid sound The Arch-Angel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven It sounded, and the faithful armies rung Hosanna to the Highest: Nor stood at gaze The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, And clamour such as heard in Heaven till now Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed Horrible discord, and the madding wheels Of brazen chariots raged; dire was the noise Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew, And flying vaulted either host with fire. So under fiery cope together rushed Both battles main, with ruinous assault And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven Resounded; and had Earth been then, all Earth Had to her center shook. What wonder? when Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought On either side, the least of whom could wield These elements, and arm him with the force Of all their regions: How much more of power Army against army numberless to raise Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, Though not destroy, their happy native seat; Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent, From his strong hold of Heaven, high over-ruled And limited their might; though numbered such As each divided legion might have seemed A numerous host; in strength each armed hand A legion; led in fight, yet leader seemed Each warriour single as in chief, expert When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway Of battle, open when, and when to close The ridges of grim war: No thought of flight, None of retreat, no unbecoming deed That argued fear; each on himself relied, As only in his arm the moment lay Of victory: Deeds of eternal fame Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread That war and various; sometimes on firm ground A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing, Tormented all the air; all air seemed then Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale The battle hung; till Satan, who that day Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms No equal, ranging through the dire attack Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down Wide-wasting; such destruction to withstand He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, A vast circumference. At his approach The great Arch-Angel from his warlike toil Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end Intestine war in Heaven, the arch-foe subdued Or captive dragged in chains, with hostile frown And visage all inflamed first thus began. Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt, Unnamed in Heaven, now plenteous as thou seest These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, Though heaviest by just measure on thyself, And thy adherents: How hast thou disturbed Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought Misery, uncreated till the crime Of thy rebellion! how hast thou instilled Thy malice into thousands, once upright And faithful, now proved false! But think not here To trouble holy rest; Heaven casts thee out From all her confines. Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war. Hence then, and evil go with thee along, Thy offspring, to the place of evil, Hell; Thou and thy wicked crew! there mingle broils, Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from God, Precipitate thee with augmented pain. So spake the Prince of Angels; to whom thus The Adversary. Nor think thou with wind Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise Unvanquished, easier to transact with me That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats To chase me hence? err not, that so shall end The strife which thou callest evil, but we style The strife of glory; which we mean to win, Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell Thou fablest; here however to dwell free, If not to reign: Mean while thy utmost force, And join him named Almighty to thy aid, I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh. They ended parle, and both addressed for fight Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue Of Angels, can relate, or to what things Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift Human imagination to such highth Of Godlike power? for likest Gods they seemed, Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms, Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood In horrour: From each hand with speed retired, Where erst was thickest fight, the angelick throng, And left large field, unsafe within the wind Of such commotion; such as, to set forth Great things by small, if, nature's concord broke, Among the constellations war were sprung, Two planets, rushing from aspect malign Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. Together both with next to almighty arm Up-lifted imminent, one stroke they aimed That might determine, and not need repeat, As not of power at once; nor odds appeared In might or swift prevention: But the sword Of Michael from the armoury of God Was given him tempered so, that neither keen Nor solid might resist that edge: it met The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid, But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared All his right side: Then Satan first knew pain, And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore The griding sword with discontinuous wound Passed through him: But the ethereal substance closed, Not long divisible; and from the gash A stream of necturous humour issuing flowed Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, And all his armour stained, ere while so bright. Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run By Angels many and strong, who interposed Defence, while others bore him on their shields Back to his chariot, where it stood retired From off the files of war: There they him laid Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, To find himself not matchless, and his pride Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath His confidence to equal God in power. Yet soon he healed; for Spirits that live throughout Vital in every part, not as frail man In entrails, heart of head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die; Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound Receive, no more than can the fluid air: All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, All intellect, all sense; and, as they please, They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size Assume, as?kikes them best, condense or rare. Mean while in other parts like deeds deserved Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array Of Moloch, furious king; who him defied, And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heaven Refrained his tongue blasphemous; but anon Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing Uriel, and Raphael, his vaunting foe, Though huge, and in a rock of diamond armed, Vanquished Adramelech, and Asmadai, Two potent Thrones, that to be less than Gods Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flight, Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail. Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence Of Ramiel scorched and blasted, overthrew. I might relate of thousands, and their names Eternize here on earth; but those elect Angels, contented with their fame in Heaven, Seek not the praise of men: The other sort, In might though wonderous and in acts of war, Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory, Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. For strength from truth divided, and from just, Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise And ignominy; yet to glory aspires Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame: Therefore eternal silence be their doom. And now, their mightiest quelled, the battle swerved, With many an inroad gored; deformed rout Entered, and foul disorder; all the ground With shivered armour strown, and on a heap Chariot and charioteer lay overturned, And fiery-foaming steeds; what stood, recoiled O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanick host Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, Then first with fear surprised, and sense of pain, Fled ignominious, to such evil brought By sin of disobedience; till that hour Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. Far otherwise the inviolable Saints, In cubick phalanx firm, advanced entire, Invulnerable, impenetrably armed; Such high advantages their innocence Gave them above their foes; not to have sinned, Not to have disobeyed; in fight they stood Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pained By wound, though from their place by violence moved, Now Night her course began, and, over Heaven Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, And silence on the odious din of war: Under her cloudy covert both retired, Victor and vanquished: On the foughten field Michael and his Angels prevalent Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, Cherubick waving fires: On the other part, Satan with his rebellious disappeared, Far in the dark dislodged; and, void of rest, His potentates to council called by night; And in the midst thus undismayed began. O now in danger tried, now known in arms Not to be overpowered, Companions dear, Found worthy not of liberty alone, Too mean pretence! but what we more affect, Honour, dominion, glory, and renown; Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight, (And if one day, why not eternal days?) What Heaven's Lord had powerfullest to send Against us from about his throne, and judged Sufficient to subdue us to his will, But proves not so: Then fallible, it seems, Of future we may deem him, though till now Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly armed, Some disadvantage we endured and pain, Till now not known, but, known, as soon contemned; Since now we find this our empyreal form Incapable of mortal injury, Imperishable, and, though pierced with wound, Soon closing, and by native vigour healed. Of evil then so small as easy think The remedy; perhaps more valid arms, Weapons more violent, when next we meet, May serve to better us, and worse our foes, Or equal what between us made the odds, In nature none: If other hidden cause Left them superiour, while we can preserve Unhurt our minds, and understanding sound, Due search and consultation will disclose. He sat; and in the assembly next upstood Nisroch, of Principalities the prime; As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, Sore toiled, his riven arms to havock hewn, And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake. Deliverer from new Lords, leader to free Enjoyment of our right as Gods; yet hard For Gods, and too unequal work we find, Against unequal arms to fight in pain, Against unpained, impassive; from which evil Ruin must needs ensue; for what avails Valour or strength, though matchless, quelled with pain Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine, But live content, which is the calmest life: But pain is perfect misery, the worst Of evils, and, excessive, overturns All patience. He, who therefore can invent With what more forcible we may offend Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves No less than for deliverance what we owe. Whereto with look composed Satan replied. Not uninvented that, which thou aright Believest so main to our success, I bring. Which of us who beholds the bright surface Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, This continent of spacious Heaven, adorned With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems, and gold; Whose eye so superficially surveys These things, as not to mind from whence they grow Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, Of spiritous and fiery spume, till touched With Heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth So beauteous, opening to the ambient light? These in their dark nativity the deep Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame; Which, into hollow engines, long and round, Thick rammed, at the other bore with touch of fire Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth From far, with thundering noise, among our foes Such implements of mischief, as shall dash To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmed The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. Nor long shall be our labour; yet ere dawn, Effect shall end our wish. Mean while revive; Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joined Think nothing hard, much less to be despaired. He ended, and his words their drooping cheer Enlightened, and their languished hope revived. The invention all admired, and each, how he To be the inventer missed; so easy it seemed Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought Impossible: Yet, haply, of thy race In future days, if malice should abound, Some one intent on mischief, or inspired With devilish machination, might devise Like instrument to plague the sons of men For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. Forthwith from council to the work they flew; None arguing stood; innumerable hands Were ready; in a moment up they turned Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath The originals of nature in their crude Conception; sulphurous and nitrous foam They found, they mingled, and, with subtle art, Concocted and adusted they reduced To blackest grain, and into store conveyed: Part hidden veins digged up (nor hath this earth Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone, Whereof to found their engines and their balls Of missive ruin; part incentive reed Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, Secret they finished, and in order set, With silent circumspection, unespied. Now when fair morn orient in Heaven appeared, Up rose the victor-Angels, and to arms The matin trumpet sung: In arms they stood Of golden panoply, refulgent host, Soon banded; others from the dawning hills Look round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, Each quarter to descry the distant foe, Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, In motion or in halt: Him soon they met Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow But firm battalion; back with speediest sail Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried. Arm, Warriours, arm for fight; the foe at hand, Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit This day; fear not his flight;so thick a cloud He comes, and settled in his face I see Sad resolution, and secure: Let each His adamantine coat gird well, and each Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, Borne even or high; for this day will pour down, If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower, But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire. So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon In order, quit of all impediment; Instant without disturb they took alarm, And onward moved embattled: When behold! Not distant far with heavy pace the foe Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube Training his devilish enginery, impaled On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, To hide the fraud. At interview both stood A while; but suddenly at head appeared Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud. Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold; That all may see who hate us, how we seek Peace and composure, and with open breast Stand ready to receive them, if they like Our overture; and turn not back perverse: But that I doubt; however witness, Heaven! Heaven, witness thou anon! while we discharge Freely our part: ye, who appointed stand Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch What we propound, and loud that all may hear! So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce Had ended; when to right and left the front Divided, and to either flank retired: Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, A triple mounted row of pillars laid On wheels (for like to pillars most they seemed, Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir, With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled,) Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths With hideous orifice gaped on us wide, Portending hollow truce: At each behind A Seraph stood, and in his hand a reed Stood waving tipt with fire; while we, suspense, Collected stood within our thoughts amused, Not long; for sudden all at once their reeds Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared, From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar Embowelled with outrageous noise the air, And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail Of iron globes; which, on the victor host Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote, That, whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell By thousands, Angel on Arch-Angel rolled; The sooner for their arms; unarmed, they might Have easily, as Spirits, evaded swift By quick contraction or remove; but now Foul dissipation followed, and forced rout; Nor served it to relax their serried files. What should they do? if on they rushed, repulse Repeated, and indecent overthrow Doubled, would render them yet more despised, And to their foes a laughter; for in view Stood ranked of Seraphim another row, In posture to displode their second tire Of thunder: Back defeated to return They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight, And to his mates thus in derision called. O Friends! why come not on these victors proud Ere while they fierce were coming; and when we, To entertain them fair with open front And breast, (what could we more?) propounded terms Of composition, straight they changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, As they would dance; yet for a dance they seemed Somewhat extravagant and wild; perhaps For joy of offered peace: But I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result. To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood. Leader! the terms we sent were terms of weight, Of hard contents, and full of force urged home; Such as we might perceive amused them all, And stumbled many: Who receives them right, Had need from head to foot well understand; Not understood, this gift they have besides, They show us when our foes walk not upright. So they among themselves in pleasant vein Stood scoffing, hightened in their thoughts beyond All doubt of victory: Eternal Might To match with their inventions they presumed So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, And all his host derided, while they stood A while in trouble: But they stood not long; Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power, Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed!) Their arms away they threw, and to the hills (For Earth hath this variety from Heaven Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,) Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew; From their foundations loosening to and fro, They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops Up-lifting bore them in their hands: Amaze, Be sure, and terrour, seized the rebel host, When coming towards them so dread they saw The bottom of the mountains upward turned; Till on those cursed engines' triple-row They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence Under the weight of mountains buried deep; Themselves invaded next, and on their heads Main promontories flung, which in the air Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed; Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and bruised Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain Implacable, and many a dolorous groan; Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind Out of such prison, though Spirits of purest light, Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. The rest, in imitation, to like arms Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore: So hills amid the air encountered hills, Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire; That under ground they fought in dismal shade; Infernal noise! war seemed a civil game To this uproar; horrid confusion heaped Upon confusion rose: And now all Heaven Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread; Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits Shrined in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen This tumult, and permitted all, advised: That his great purpose he might so fulfil, To honour his anointed Son avenged Upon his enemies, and to declare All power on him transferred: Whence to his Son, The Assessour of his throne, he thus began. Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, Son, in whose face invisible is beheld Visibly, what by Deity I am; And in whose hand what by decree I do, Second Omnipotence! two days are past, Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven, Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame These disobedient: Sore hath been their fight, As likeliest was, when two such foes met armed; For to themselves I left them; and thou knowest, Equal in their creation they were formed, Save what sin hath impaired; which yet hath wrought Insensibly, for I suspend their doom; Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last Endless, and no solution will be found: War wearied hath performed what war can do, And to disordered rage let loose the reins With mountains, as with weapons, armed; which makes Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main. Two days are therefore past, the third is thine; For thee I have ordained it; and thus far Have suffered, that the glory may be thine Of ending this great war, since none but Thou Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace Immense I have transfused, that all may know In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare; And, this perverse commotion governed thus, To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir Of all things; to be Heir, and to be King By sacred unction, thy deserved right. Go then, Thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might; Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels That shake Heaven's basis, bring forth all my war, My bow and thunder, my almighty arms Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh; Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out From all Heaven's bounds into the utter deep: There let them learn, as likes them, to despise God, and Messiah his anointed King. He said, and on his Son with rays direct Shone full; he all his Father full expressed Ineffably into his face received; And thus the Filial Godhead answering spake. O Father, O Supreme of heavenly Thrones, First, Highest, Holiest, Best; thou always seek'st To glorify thy Son, I always thee, As is most just: This I my glory account, My exaltation, and my whole delight, That thou, in me well pleased, declarest thy will Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. Scepter and power, thy giving, I assume, And gladlier shall resign, when in the end Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee For ever; and in me all whom thou lovest: But whom thou hatest, I hate, and can put on Thy terrours, as I put thy mildness on, Image of thee in all things; and shall soon, Armed with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebelled; To their prepared ill mansion driven down, To chains of darkness, and the undying worm; That from thy just obedience could revolt, Whom to obey is happiness entire. Then shall thy Saints unmixed, and from the impure Far separate, circling thy holy mount, Unfeigned Halleluiahs to thee sing, Hymns of high praise, and I among them Chief. So said, he, o'er his scepter bowing, rose From the right hand of Glory where he sat; And the third sacred morn began to shine, Dawning through Heaven. Forth rushed with whirlwind sound The chariot of Paternal Deity, Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, Itself instinct with Spirit, but convoyed By four Cherubick shapes; four faces each Had wonderous; as with stars, their bodies all And wings were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels Of beryl, and careering fires between; Over their heads a crystal firmament, Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure Amber, and colours of the showery arch. He, in celestial panoply all armed Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, Ascended; at his right hand Victory Sat eagle-winged; beside him hung his bow And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored; And from about him fierce effusion rolled Of smoke, and bickering flame, and sparkles dire: Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints, He onward came; far off his coming shone; And twenty thousand (I their number heard) Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen; He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, Illustrious far and wide; but by his own First seen: Them unexpected joy surprised, When the great ensign of Messiah blazed Aloft by Angels borne, his sign in Heaven; Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced His army, circumfused on either wing, Under their Head imbodied all in one. Before him Power Divine his way prepared; At his command the uprooted hills retired Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went Obsequious; Heaven his wonted face renewed, And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled. This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, And to rebellious fight rallied their Powers, Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. In heavenly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? But to convince the proud what signs avail, Or wonders move the obdurate to relent? They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, Grieving to see his glory, at the sight Took envy; and, aspiring to his highth, Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud Weening to prosper, and at length prevail Against God and Messiah, or to fall In universal ruin last; and now To final battle drew, disdaining flight, Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God To all his host on either hand thus spake. Stand still in bright array, ye Saints; here stand, Ye Angels armed; this day from battle rest: Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause; And as ye have received, so have ye done, Invincibly: But of this cursed crew The punishment to other hand belongs; Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints: Number to this day's work is not ordained, Nor multitude; stand only, and behold God's indignation on these godless poured By me; not you, but me, they have despised, Yet envied; against me is all their rage, Because the Father, to whom in Heaven s'preme Kingdom, and power, and glory appertains, Hath honoured me, according to his will. Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned; That they may have their wish, to try with me In battle which the stronger proves; they all, Or I alone against them; since by strength They measure all, of other excellence Not emulous, nor care who them excels; Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe. So spake the Son, and into terrour changed His countenance too severe to be beheld, And full of wrath bent on his enemies. At once the Four spread out their starry wings With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. He on his impious foes right onward drove, Gloomy as night; under his burning wheels The stedfast empyrean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God. Full soon Among them he arrived; in his right hand Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent Before him, such as in their souls infixed Plagues: They, astonished, all resistance lost, All courage; down their idle weapons dropt: O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate, That wished the mountains now might be again Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. Nor less on either side tempestuous fell His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged Four Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels Distinct alike with multitude of eyes; One Spirit in them ruled; and every eye Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire Among the accursed, that withered all their strength, And of their wonted vigour left them drained, Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked His thunder in mid volley; for he meant Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven: The overthrown he raised, and as a herd Of goats or timorous flock together thronged Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursued With terrours, and with furies, to the bounds And crystal wall of Heaven; which, opening wide, Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed Into the wasteful deep: The monstrous sight Struck them with horrour backward, but far worse Urged them behind: Headlong themselves they threw Down from the verge of Heaven; eternal wrath Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. Hell heard the unsufferable noise, Hell saw Heaven ruining from Heaven, and would have fled Affrighted; but strict Fate had cast too deep Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. Nine days they fell: Confounded Chaos roared, And felt tenfold confusion in their fall Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout Incumbered him with ruin: Hell at last Yawning received them whole, and on them closed; Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. Disburdened Heaven rejoiced, and soon repaired Her mural breach, returning whence it rolled. Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes, Messiah his triumphal chariot turned: To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, With jubilee advanced; and, as they went, Shaded with branching palm, each Order bright, Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, Worthiest to reign: He, celebrated, rode Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts And temple of his Mighty Father throned On high; who into glory him received, Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. Thus, measuring things in Heaven by things on Earth, At thy request, and that thou mayest beware By what is past, to thee I have revealed What might have else to human race been hid; The discord which befel, and war in Heaven Among the angelick Powers, and the deep fall Of those too high aspiring, who rebelled With Satan; he who envies now thy state, Who now is plotting how he may seduce Thee also from obedience, that, with him Bereaved of happiness, thou mayest partake His punishment, eternal misery; Which would be all his solace and revenge, As a despite done against the Most High, Thee once to gain companion of his woe. But listen not to his temptations, warn Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard, By terrible example, the reward Of disobedience; firm they might have stood, Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress.

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The publication is small, reaching just a fraction of the evangelical movement.But when Christianity Today called for President Donald Trump's removal in a blistering editorial on Thursday, it met the full force and fury of the president and his most prominent allies in the Christian conservative world. If the response seemed disproportionate, it vividly reflected the fact that white evangelicals are the cornerstone of Trump's political base and their leaders are among his most visible and influential supporters.In the background, however, is a more nuanced reality that Christianity Today's editorial hints at: a number of conservative Christians remain deeply uncomfortable with an alliance with the president.Trump, after being impeached this week, is extremely sensitive to any signs of a fracture in his political coalition and has repeatedly insisted that the Republican Party and its voters are unanimously behind him. And on Friday he lashed out on two separate occasions at Christianity Today, seeking to brand it as a "far left magazine" that was doing the Democratic Party's bidding."I guess the magazine, 'Christianity Today,' is looking for Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, or those of the socialist/communist bent, to guard their religion," Trump wrote on Twitter. "How about Sleepy Joe? The fact is, no President has ever done what I have done for Evangelicals, or religion itself!"Evidently leaving little to chance, Trump's reelection campaign announced Friday evening that he would go to Miami on Jan. 3 to start an "Evangelicals for Trump" coalition.The response from his leading Christian supporters was laced with animosity that mimicked Trump's signature style, and reflected the extent to which they have moved into lock step with him, even in rhetoric.Ralph Reed, founder of the Faith and Freedom Coalition, said on Twitter that he was "sad" to see the publication "echo the arguments of The Squad & the Resistance & deepen its irrelevance among Christians."Franklin Graham, whose father, the Rev. Billy Graham, founded Christianity Today, said in a Facebook post that the editorial was a "totally partisan attack" and said that the elder Graham had voted for the president in 2016, a little more than a year before he died.Graham went on to tally numerous accomplishments that he said Trump had achieved, and to ask "Why would Christianity Today choose to take the side of the Democrat left whose only goal is to discredit and smear the name of a sitting president?"The power of the evangelicals as a voting bloc is in their sheer size, and in their symbiotic relationship with the president. "Because they are a third of the Republican base, Trump needs white evangelical Protestants to get elected," said Robert P. Jones, chief executive of the Public Religion Research Institute. "And because white evangelicals see themselves as a shrinking minority, in both racial and religious terms, they need Trump."For the past several years, conservative American politics, and white evangelical Christianity along with it, has realigned steadily and solidly around Trump and his coalition. Much like the "Never Trump" voices within the Republican Party, evangelical detractors have receded into the background.Their absence from the national conversation was partly why the editorial was so jolting. And for the Christians who felt the same way, the piece was a catharsis.Peter Wehner, a conservative columnist and author who writes about religion and who worked as a speechwriter for former President George W. Bush, said that Trump's most outspoken defenders had created a misleading impression that evangelical Christians universally embraced the president."They speak as if they define the movement," he said. "And a lot of people who aren't familiar with evangelical Christianity see this and say, 'Well, they must be representing all Christians.'""That's the significance of what Christianity Today did," Wehner added. "They stood up and they said: 'No, that's not right. We can't continue with this charade, this moral freak show anymore.'"The editorial is also a reminder that the evangelical movement is not monolithic and includes people who may appreciate some of the president's actions, like the appointment of conservative judges, but are repelled by his inflammatory rhetoric on issues like race and immigration and his denigration of political opponents.That sentiment was clearly expressed in the Christianity Today editorial by Mark Galli, the magazine's editor-in-chief, who wrote that Trump "has dumbed down the idea of morality in his administration.""His Twitter feed alone -- with its habitual string of mischaracterizations, lies, and slanders -- is a near perfect example of a human being who is morally lost and confused," Galli wrote.Galli also expressed a view on impeachment that echoed the Democrats, saying: "The president of the United States attempted to use his political power to coerce a foreign leader to harass and discredit one of the president's political opponents. That is not only a violation of the Constitution; more importantly, it is profoundly immoral."Christianity Today, based in the Chicago suburbs, has about 80,000 print subscribers and publishes news and commentary to appeal to evangelical audiences, in the tradition of Billy Graham.No leaders in the evangelical movement said they could see any clear signs of an organized resistance to Trump rising from the editorial. And even dissenters like Wehner acknowledge they are vastly outnumbered.According to a recent poll from the Public Religion Research Institute, 77% of white evangelical Protestants approve of the job Trump is doing in office, including half who strongly approve. And nearly all -- 98% -- of Republican white evangelical Protestants said they opposed Trump's impeachment, the institute found.In 2016, 81% of them voted for Trump over Hillary Clinton, most likely helping him carry states like Florida and Michigan, which allowed him to win the Electoral College despite losing the popular vote. The Trump campaign is putting an intense focus on turning them out to vote next year, with groups like Reed's Faith and Freedom Coalition pledging to raise millions of dollars and deploy tens of thousands of volunteers on his behalf.Many young evangelicals, however, are more socially liberal on issues like same-sex marriage and troubled by Trump administration policies like separating migrant families at the border and denying climate change.Galli appeared to reach out to future generations of evangelicals when he wrote, "If we don't reverse course now, will anyone take anything we say about justice and righteousness with any seriousness for decades to come?"The reaction to the editorial, while perhaps not signaling the beginning of a wave of defections among white evangelicals, could be another sign that the middle is disappearing in American Christianity, just as it is in politics. It was also a reminder that the upcoming presidential election would be a test not only of Trump's political strength, but also of the future of the faith that abetted his rise.Evangelicals who are troubled by the president's conduct said they feared that he had done long-term damage to their cause, and that the lack of pushback had only hurt them more, especially with young people. Peggy Wehmeyer, a journalist based in Dallas who writes often about her faith, said she heard a lot of "Thank God Mark Galli said this," among her friends."The word evangelical has been sullied in a serious way," she added. "I don't like to call myself that anymore."Wehmeyer said what she and other evangelicals found so resonant about the piece was the way it drew out the competing emotions that many of them felt."What has really troubled me from the beginning," she said, "is why can't people say on the one hand, 'We love what he's done on religious liberty, abortion and the economy?' But on the other hand say that 'As Christians whose allegiance is to Jesus Christ, his behavior is despicable'?"What the editorial seemed to say, she added, was "You can support this man's policies, but if the witness of this church is going to survive, you must speak out against sin."Recent events may have helped push tensions to a head. A Republican congressman said on the House floor this week that Jesus had received fairer treatment before his crucifixion than Trump did during his impeachment. Rick Perry, the former Texas governor, said in an interview with Fox News that he had told Trump that he was the "chosen one."Rick Tyler, a strategist who has served as a liaison between Republican politicians and the evangelical community, said that Trump's rise had left the evangelical faith with a leadership vacuum."I don't know who represents the evangelical community anymore," he said. "In the old days, Ralph Reed and Jerry Falwell had a stick to swing. They had real power."Now, he said, "Trump has their power."This article originally appeared in The New York Times.(C) 2019 The New York Times Company

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maxwellyjordan · 4 years

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No new grants today

This morning the Supreme Court issued orders from last week’s private conference. The justices granted four cases from that conference on Friday afternoon, so they did not add new cases to their docket today.

The justices denied review in the case of Victor Saldano, an Argentinian citizen who has been on death row in Texas for over 30 years. Saldano was convicted of the kidnapping and murder of Paul King, who was on his way to buy food for a Thanksgiving lunch for his fellow employees at a Best Buy store. Saldano’s case had drawn intense interest from Argentina, which (along with other Central and South American countries) had filed a “friend of the court” brief arguing that Saldano’s treatment violated international law and urging the justices to take up his case.

The justices also turned down a petition from Martin Shkreli, who was sentenced to seven years in prison and ordered to pay fines, forfeiture and restitution totaling nearly eight million dollars after he was convicted of securities fraud.

Two years ago, in Honeycutt v. United States, the Supreme Court unanimously agreed that, under a criminal-forfeiture statute for drug offenses, a defendant can only be required to forfeit property that he actually acquired as a result of the crime. Today the justices denied a petition from a mother-son pair who were convicted of violating drug and financial conspiracy laws, and who were challenging an order that would require them to collectively forfeit over a million dollars. Sharon Elder and Allen Peithman told the justices that the courts of appeals are divided on whether the Supreme Court’s ruling in Honeycutt applies to forfeitures under a more general criminal forfeiture statute. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 8th Circuit ruled that it does not, reasoning that the language of the more general statute at issue in Elder and Peithman’s case is “broader” than the statute at issue in Honeycutt and “less focused on” whether the defendant owned the property to be forfeited.

Justice Sonia Sotomayor dissented from the court’s decision not to hear Elder and Peithman’s case. She pointed out that the government now concedes that the Supreme Court’s reasoning in Honeycutt also applies to the statute at issue in this case, even if there is another reason to uphold the lower courts’ ruling. She would have sent the case back “to allow the Eighth Circuit to reconsider its decision in light of the Government’s concession.”

The Supreme Court did not act on the case of Texas death-row inmate Rodney Reed, who was convicted of the 1996 murder of Stacey Stites but has consistently maintained that he is innocent. Reed’s execution was scheduled for later this week, but on Friday a state appeals court blocked his execution and sent the case back to the trial court for it to consider new evidence.

The justices’ next conference is scheduled for Friday, November 22.

This post was originally published at Howe on the Court.

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junker-town · 7 years

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We need to demand more from white athletes in a new era of protest

It was the spring of 1968 in Los Angeles and something uncontrollable was eating at Jack Tenner.

For months a proposed “Negro boycott” was discussed among black athletes for the upcoming Olympics in Mexico City. Tenner — a white civil rights lawyer and judge who fought for black people and athletes for decades — called for a similar boycott in 1960. But heading into what would be a historic Olympics, Tenner wanted to set a record straight.

Tenner sent a letter to his friend Brad Pye, a legendary black journalist with a column at the LA Sentinel, a black publication. In it, Tenner expressed thoughts about the role white athletes played in a visibly racist America.

“At the moment I seriously question whether white America is ready to take the total responsibility necessary to remake the American society. But the activity of Negro athletes to bear witness in their identification with this struggle should not be repudiated, rather, the call should be on white athletes who labor on the same athletic field and come to have respect for their fellow athletes,” Tenner wrote.

Recently, white NFL players (like Chris Long and Justin Britt) have gained national attention for showing support for their protesting black teammates. Then on Monday night, a group of Browns players knelt in prayer during the national anthem. The group included Seth DeValve, who is white, and who after the game explained that “he wanted to support my African-American teammates today who wanted to take a knee. We wanted to draw attention to the fact that there’s things in this country that still need to change.”

These shows of support are just the beginning.

Tenner detailed a sentiment running parallel to that. It is understood by people of color in his era and this one: that black athletes, in majority, are the ones dissenting. But the issue wasn’t with protest or how they did it, rather, the fact that they seemed alone.

“[White athletes] are the ones who should protest the lack of opportunity in athletics for coaching, front office jobs and executive jobs,” Tenner continued in his letter. “It is to the white athlete that one should turn and demand his support in the struggle for equality.”

What Tenner outlined is the need for the voice of white athletes in a racist America that seems immovable. It is the need for acts of support: When white athletes speak about divisive and political issues it lessens the burden of the black athlete who tends to shoulder the weight of racism in their athletic world.

White athletes can spread ideas to white consumers, which lead to avenues for substantive conversation and results. An irony of racism is that it is something created and advanced by whiteness, yet whiteness is a deciding factor in reversing the tide.

This was Seahawks defensive lineman Michael Bennett’s call to his white counterparts when starting his protest during the national anthem before games this season. Bennett made a simple plea to white athletes asking them to get involved.

"It would take a white player to really get things changed," Bennett said. "Because when somebody from the other side understands and they step up and they speak up about it ... it would change the whole conversation. Because when you bring somebody who doesn't have to be a part of [the] conversation making himself vulnerable in front of it, I think when that happens, things will really take a jump."

He, like many in history, understands that white athletes are essential to propel conversations about racism forward. However, the role of the white athlete isn’t to merely support black athletes in their struggle for equality. They need and deserve more than a pat on the shoulder. No, white athletes must be as vocal — if not louder — than the oppressed looking to end their generational pain.

“This is the ultimate expression of playing while white. You can be silent. You can come out and condemn people like Kaepernick or you can do the most minimal of silent protests. The consequences will always be minimal and the praise will always be great,” David Leonard, a Washington State University professor and author of Playing While White, said.

“We need to demand more from white athletes and white fans and white coaches and general managers and owners,” Leonard continued. “Not just in terms of gestures and symbolic standards, but pointed, directed protests.”

Photo by Adam Glanzman/Getty Images

In 1992 Johnette Howard, a sports writer for the Detroit Free Press, posed a question to readers: “Where are white voices in the assault on racism?”

At that time, Sports Illustrated surveyed over 300 athletes and many black athletes said that race relations with white athletes were acceptable. Seventy-three percent of black respondents even said they received the same fan treatment as their white counterparts.

Howard asked: If that were true, then why is it that the “near-unanimous majority of athletes who speak out against racism are black. Why?” To Howard, the black athlete’s voice in these discussions were muddied. She didn’t understand why black athletes’ social consciousness was routinely judged, as if it was less authentic because a white man didn’t say it.

Richard Lapchick, a white historian and sports activist, noted similarly. It was troubling that even in times when the conversation entered the national consciousness — when issues of race were spoken about en masse through the context of sports — that only black athletes were answering questions about racism or whiteness.

When the PGA was supposed to hold its 1990 championship at Shoal Creek Country Club, a golf course in Alabama that often denied black entrants to make a white-only club, Lapchick saw only one side telling their story.

“Many golf writers who were doing stories (on the club’s all-white membership policy) went only to black golfers like Lee Elder and a few others asking ‘What’s your position? What’s your position?’” he said. “Very few pressed the white golfers for their stance.”

Mike Henneman, a white pitcher for the Tigers in the 90s, agreed. He told Howard about the difference he saw.

“We probably are asked about racism less,” he said.

Mass media and others have peddled the idea for generations that racism is not white America’s problem, that the onus is on non-white people to fix an invention of white people.

The issue has become immediate, to some, in an America where hate groups, emboldened by the president, are marching in the streets and carrying out acts of domestic terror. Heidi Beirich, the leader of the Southern Poverty Law Center’s Intelligence Project and an expert on extremism, said in April “it’s like white people can’t handle the idea that there are devils in our midst.”

“White supremacy is an indigenous idea ― it’s from our culture,” Beirich said. “I think there’s a reluctance on the part of people to say, ‘I play a role in this. My culture plays a role in this.’”

Part of this has to be understood in the context of what white people and athletes are allegedly giving up to stand with their teammates and citizens. Black NFL players can’t be the only ones with something to gain from protest. White players can’t be seen as having something to lose with theirs. This dichotomy underlines the notion that standing for racial justice is a zero-sum game.

This is a piece of the problem. It demonstrates that whiteness in systems profiting from white supremacy, like sports leagues, is at best always praised and at worst tolerated as part of discourse. It creates a world where Steve Kerr and Gregg Poppovich can express similar views as Colin Kaepernick but stay employed.

“This tells us about the structures of racism. We see that no matter what a black athlete does there’s a level of condemnation and demonization,” Leonard said. “It demonstrates the way in which whiteness and blackness operates in these conversations. Whiteness is privileged. Blackness is rendered as suspect and criminal and undesirable.”

Photo by Sean Rayford/Getty Images

In America’s current political climate, to be an athlete and be at odds with the president is to immediately be seen as rebellious. To be against the status quo, to pop a bubble in the normalcy of racism, makes you the enemy to part of the country.

To stand up for others that don’t look like you creates the idea, the assumption, that something superior is required. That is a lie. It does not take courage for white athletes to do what is necessary to combat the insidiousness of racism. It’s merely avoiding the innate cowardice of wanting to fit in with the pack.

When black and brown bodies fall at the hands of police, of state-sanctioned violence, eventually you have to say that it’s not okay. But that alone is not enough. As a white athlete or person, to just say these statements is the bare minimum. It’s an early step in what should be a long process.

It’s easy to condemn racism or the societal ills that have propelled America to international dominance. However, there must be consistency. There must be care. That is courage. Not to just say “racism is bad” but to say it over and over again, especially when it feels like no one is listening. You say it not to be lauded for being brave, but because to do so is the only moral thing to do. White athletes do not become white saviors for doing what black athletes have done for decades.

They cannot become vaunted as heroes because of this, but this work is necessary regardless of approval. For them it means that, finally, they are doing what should be normal. There is power in their stand. Their statements and exhibitions isolate people positing the framework for radicalization. If your favorite white football player supports Kaepernick or Malcolm Jenkins or Bennett it kills the oxygen necessary to breed hate.

This has been the advice of Tenner, the old lawyer and judge fighting in Los Angeles in the sixties. It’s what Howard and Lapchick discussed in the nineties when progress moved at a snail’s pace. And it’s what Bennett is beckoning for in the present as change seems as distant as it’s ever been.

The role of the white athlete needs to be prominent during this moment of revitalized athlete activism, or it’ll just be another wasted flashpoint in history. But in it, there also has to be a clear understanding. Regardless of fan or media reaction to the white athlete’s stands, the player must stay level-headed. They must realize this is merely meeting the base level of what is needed to be a moral American.

This fight is one for equality, not for glory.

“It’s important to both recognize that part of being an ally or accomplice, whether it be white athletes, fans or white owners is doing the work without recognition,” Leonard said. “The work should be done. There shouldn’t be celebration. There shouldn’t be an effort to hand out a gold star.”

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peopleoftexas · 7 years

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Letter of Mr. Walker of Mississippi, 1844

Page 3: It was a revolution in Mexico that produced the conflict for independence in Texas. the citizens of Texas had been invited there by Mexico, under the solemn guaranty of the federal constitution of 1824. This constitution, to which Texas so long and faithfully adhered, was prostrated by the usurper Santa Anna. After a severe struggle, the people of Mexico were subdued by a mercenary army; the States were annihilated, and a military dictator was placed at the head of a central despotism. In the capital of Mexico, and of the state of Coahuila and Texas, the civil authorities were suppressed by the bayonet; the disarming of every citizen was decreed, and the soldiery of the usurper proceeded to enforce this edict. The people of Texas resolved to resist, and perish upon the field of battle, rather than submit to the despotic sway of a treacherous and sanguinary military dictator. Short was the conflict, and glorious the issue. The American race was successful; the armies of the tyrant were overthrown and dispersed, and the dictator himself was captured. He was released by Texas, and restored to his country, having first acknowledged, by a solemn treaty, the independence of Texas. After the fall of Santa Anna, and the total rout and dispersion of the Mexican army, and when a resubjugation had become hopeless, I introduced into the Senate the resolution acknowledging the independence of Texas. it was adopted in March, 1837, and the name of Texas inscribed on the roll of independent nations. Subsequently, France, England, and Holland, have recognized her independence; and Texas now has all the rights of sovereignty over her territory and people, as full and perfect as any other nation of the world. ……. In 1836, this question, together with that of ratifying their constitution, was submitted by the constituted authorities to the people of Texas, who, with unparalleled unanimity, (there being but 93 dissenting votes,) decided in favor of re-annexation.

Page 6: By the treaty of 1803, by which, we have seen, Texas was acquired by us from France, we pledged our faith to France, and to the people of Texas, never to surrender that territory. The 3d article of that treaty declares: “the inhabitants of the ceded territory shall be incorporated in the Union of the United States, and admitted as soon as possible, according to the principles of the federal constitution, to the enjoyment of all the rights, advantages, and immunities of citizens of the United States; and in the meantime they shall be protected in the free enjoyment of their liberty, property, and the religion which they profess.” Such was our pledge to France and to the people of Texas, by the treaty of purchase; and if our subsequent treaty of cession to Spain was not unconstitutional and invalid, it was a gross infraction of a previous treaty, and of one of the fundamental conditions under which Texas was acquired.

Here, then, are many grave questions of constitutional power. Could the solemn guaranty to France, and to the people of Texas, be rescinded by a treaty with Spain? Can this government, by its own mere power, surrender any portion of its territory? Can it cut off a territory without the consent of its people, and surrender them and the territory to a foreign power? Can it expatriate and expel from the Union its own citizens, who occupy that territory, and change an American citizen into a citizen of Spain or Mexico? There are momentous questions, which it is not necessary now to determine, and in regard to which I advance at this time no opinion. Certain, however, it is, that, with the consent of the people of Texas, Congress can carry out the solemn pledges of the treaty of 1803, and admit one or more States from Texas into the Union.

Page 9: As a question of money, no State is much more deeply interest in the re-annexation of Texas than your own great Commonwealth of Kentucky. There, if Texas becomes part of the Union, will be a great and growing market for her beef and pork, her lard and butter, her flour and corn; and there, within a very short period, would be found a ready sale for more than a million dollars in value, of her bale-rope and hemp and cotton bagging. Nor can it be that Kentucky would desire, by the refusal of re-annexation, to mutilate and dismember the valley of which she is a part; or that Kentucky would curtail the limits of the republic, or diminish its power and strength and glory. It cannot be that Kentucky will wish to see any flag except our own upon the banks of the Sabine and Arkansas and Red river, and within a day’s sail of the mouth of the Mississippi, and the outlet of all her own commerce in the Gulf. Many of her own people are within the limits of Texas, and its battlefields are water with the blood of many of her sons. It was her own intrepid Milam, who headed the brave 300 who, armed with rifles only, captured the fortress of the Alamo, defended by heavy artillery, and 1300 of the picked troops of Mexico, under one of their best commanders. And will Kentucky refuse to re-embrace so many of her own people? nor permit them, without leaving Texas, to return to the American Union? And if war should ever again revisit our country, Kentucky knows that the steady aim of the western riflemen, and the brave hearts and stout hands, within the limits of Texas, are, in the hour of danger, among the surest defenders of the country, and especially of the valley of the West. The question of re-annexation, and of the restoration of ancient boundaries, is a much stronger case than that of the purchase of new territory. It is a stronger case also than the acquisition of Louisiana or Florida; not only upon the ground that these were both an acquisition of new territory, but that they embraced a foreign people, dissimilar to our own, in language, laws, and institutions; and transferred without their knowledge or consent, by the act of a European king. More especially, in a case like this, where the people of Texas occupy a region which was once exclusively our own; and this people, in whom we acknowledge to reside the only sovereignty over the whole and every portion of Teas, desire the re-annexation—that we cannot reestablish our former boundaries, and restore to us the whole or any part of the territory which was once our own, is a proposition, the bare statement of which is its best refutation.

Page 18: In the message of the President of Texas of the 12th of December, 1843, he speaks of the “generous and friendly disposition, and active and friendly offices of England.” He speaks, also, of “injuries and indignities inflicted” by this government upon Texas, and declares “that reparation has been demanded.” Such is the wonderful advance in Texas of the influence of England, that she has succeeded in having it announced in an executive message to the people of Texas that England is their friend, and that we are their enemies. If all this had been predicted three years since, it would have been deemed incredible; and if Texas is not reenacted, she is certain, within a few years more, to become first a commercial dependency, and then a colony, in fact, if not in name, of England. When we regard the consequence which have already followed the mere apprehension of the refusal of re-annexation, what will be the result in Texas when re-annexation is positively and forever rejected? When this is done, and Texas is repulsed with contempt or indifference, when her people are told, The flag of the Union shall never wave over you, go!—go where you may, to England, if you please,—who can doubt the result? To doubt is willful blindness; and whilst we will have lost a most important territory, and an indispensable portion of the valley of the West, England will have gained a dependency first, and then a colony; and we shall awake from our slumbers when, amid British rejoicings and the sound of British cannon, the flag of England shall wave upon the coast and throughout the limits of Texas; and a monarchy rises up on our own continent and on our own borders, upon the grave of a republic. Yes, this is not a question merely between us and Texas, but a question between the advance of British or American power; and that, too, within the very heart of the valley of the West. It is a question also between the advance of monarchy and republicanism throughout the fairest and most fertile portion of the American continent, and is one of the mighty movements in deciding the great question between monarchy and republicanism, which of the two forms of government shall preponderate throughout the world. In the North, the flag of England waves from the Atlantic to the Pacific over a region much more extensive than our own; and if it must float also for several thousand miles upon the banks of the tributaries of the great Mississippi, and along the gulf, from the Sabine to the Del Norte, we will be surrounded on all sides by England in America.

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