Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on, Through words and things, a dim and perilous way.
Independently of the severe and religious aim which he had assigned to his actions, all that he had made up to that day had been nothing but a hole in which to bury his name. That which he had always feared most of all in his hours of self-communion, during his sleepless nights, was to ever hear that name pronounced; he had said to himself, that that would be the end of all things for him; that on the day when that name made its reappearance it would cause his new life to vanish from about him, and--who knows?--perhaps even his new soul within him, also. He shuddered at the very thought that this was possible. Assuredly, if any one had said to him at such moments that the hour would come when that name would ring in his ears, when the hideous words, Jean Valjean, would suddenly emerge from the darkness and rise in front of him, when that formidable light, capable of dissipating the mystery in which he had enveloped himself, would suddenly blaze forth above his head, and that that name would not menace him, that that light would but produce an obscurity more dense, that this rent veil would but increase the mystery, that this earthquake would solidify his edifice, that this prodigious incident would have no other result, so far as he was concerned, if so it seemed good to him, than that of rendering his existence at once clearer and more impenetrable, and that, out of his confrontation with the phantom of Jean Valjean, the good and worthy citizen Monsieur Madeleine would emerge more honored, more peaceful, and more respected than ever--if any one had told him that, he would have tossed his head and regarded the words as those of a madman. Well, all this was precisely what had just come to pass; all that accumulation of impossibilities was a fact, and God had permitted these wild fancies to become real things!
He evidently had sudden fits of returning animation, when he awoke from his semi-delirium; then, recovering full self-possession for a few moments, he would speak, in disconnected phrases which had perhaps haunted him for a long while on his bed of suffering, during weary, sleepless nights.
These two creatures were resplendent. They had reached that irrevocable and irrecoverable moment, at the dazzling intersection of all youth and all joy. They realized the verses of Jean Prouvaire; they were forty years old taken together. It was marriage sublimated; these two children were two lilies. They did not see each other, they did not contemplate each other. Cosette perceived Marius in the midst of a glory; Marius perceived Cosette on an altar. And on that altar, and in that glory, the two apotheoses mingling, in the background, one knows not how, behind a cloud for Cosette, in a flash for Marius, there was the ideal thing, the real thing, the meeting of the kiss and the dream, the nuptial pillow. All the torments through which they had passed came back to them in intoxication. It seemed to them that their sorrows, their sleepless nights, their tears, their anguish, their terrors, their despair, converted into caresses and rays of light, rendered still more charming the charming hour which was approaching; and that their griefs were but so many handmaidens who were preparing the toilet of joy. How good it is to have suffered! Their unhappiness formed a halo round their happiness. The long agony of their love was terminating in an ascension.
Pierre's physical condition, as is always the case, corresponded to his mental state. The unaccustomed coarse food, the vodka he drank during those days, the absence of wine and cigars, his dirty unchanged linen, two almost sleepless nights passed on a short sofa without bedding--all this kept him in a state of excitement bordering on insanity.
Soon after the migration to the "warm rivers," in which he had taken part like the rest, Dron was made village Elder and overseer of Bogucharovo, and had since filled that post irreproachably for twenty- three years. The peasants feared him more than they did their master. The masters, both the old prince and the young, and the steward respected him and jestingly called him "the Minister." During the whole time of his service Dron had never been drunk or ill, never after sleepless nights or the hardest tasks had he shown the least fatigue, and though he could not read he had never forgotten a single money account or the number of quarters of flour in any of the endless cartloads he sold for the prince, nor a single shock of the whole corn crop on any single acre of the Bogucharovo fields.
"How I have searched for him," replied Villefort, wringing his hands; "how I have called him in my long sleepless nights; how I have longed for royal wealth to purchase a million of secrets from a million of men, and to find mine among them! At last, one day, when for the hundredth time I took up my spade, I asked myself again and again what the Corsican could have done with the child. A child encumbers a fugitive; perhaps, on perceiving it was still alive, he had thrown it into the river."
Then thus Achilles matchless in the race. Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd! I must with plainness speak my fixt resolve Unalterable; lest I hear from each The same long murmur'd melancholy tale. For I abhor the man, not more the gates Of hell itself, whose words belie his heart. So shall not mine. My judgment undisguised Is this; that neither Agamemnon me Nor all the Greeks shall move; for ceaseless toil Wins here no thanks; one recompense awaits The sedentary and the most alert, The brave and base in equal honor stand, And drones and heroes fall unwept alike. I after all my labors, who exposed My life continual in the field, have earn'd No very sumptuous prize. As the poor bird Gives to her unfledged brood a morsel gain'd After long search, though wanting it herself, So I have worn out many sleepless nights, And waded deep through many a bloody day In battle for their wives. I have destroy'd Twelve cities with my fleet, and twelve, save one, On foot contending in the fields of Troy. From all these cities, precious spoils I took Abundant, and to Agamemnon's hand Gave all the treasure. He within his ships Abode the while, and having all received, Little distributed, and much retained; He gave, however, to the Kings and Chiefs A portion, and they keep it. Me alone Of all the Grecian host he hath despoil'd; My bride, my soul's delight is in his hands, And let him, couch'd with her, enjoy his fill Of dalliance. What sufficient cause, what need Have the Achaians to contend with Troy? Why hath Atrides gather'd such a host, And led them hither? Was't not for the sake Of beauteous Helen? And of all mankind Can none be found who love their proper wives But the Atridæ? There is no good man Who loves not, guards not, and with care provides For his own wife, and, though in battle won, I loved the fair Briseïs at my heart. But having dispossess'd me of my prize So foully, let him not essay me now, For I am warn'd, and he shall not prevail. With thee and with thy peers let him advise, Ulysses! how the fleet may likeliest 'scape Yon hostile fires; full many an arduous task He hath accomplished without aid of mine; So hath he now this rampart and the trench Which he hath digg'd around it, and with stakes Planted contiguous--puny barriers all To hero-slaughtering Hector's force opposed. While I the battle waged, present myself Among the Achaians, Hector never fought Far from his walls, but to the Scæan gate Advancing and the beech-tree, there remain'd. Once, on that spot he met me, and my arm Escaped with difficulty even there. But, since I feel myself not now inclined To fight with noble Hector, yielding first To Jove due worship, and to all the Gods, To-morrow will I launch, and give my ships Their lading. Look thou forth at early dawn, And, if such spectacle delight thee aught, Thou shalt behold me cleaving with my prows The waves of Hellespont, and all my crews Of lusty rowers active in their task. So shall I reach (if Ocean's mighty God Prosper my passage) Phthia the deep-soil'd On the third day. I have possessions there, Which hither roaming in an evil hour I left abundant. I shall also hence Convey much treasure, gold and burnish'd brass, And glittering steel, and women passing fair My portion of the spoils. But he, your King, The prize he gave, himself resumed, And taunted at me. Tell him my reply, And tell it him aloud, that other Greeks May indignation feel like me, if arm'd Always in impudence, he seek to wrong Them also. Let him not henceforth presume, Canine and hard in aspect though he be, To look me in the face. I will not share His counsels, neither will I aid his works. Let it suffice him, that he wrong'd me once, Deceived me once, henceforth his glozing arts Are lost on me. But let him rot in peace Crazed as he is, and by the stroke of Jove Infatuate. I detest his gifts, and him So honor as the thing which most I scorn. And would he give me twenty times the worth Of this his offer, all the treasured heaps Which he possesses, or shall yet possess, All that Orchomenos within her walls, And all that opulent Egyptian Thebes Receives, the city with a hundred gates, Whence twenty thousand chariots rush to war, And would he give me riches as the sands, And as the dust of earth, no gifts from him Should soothe me, till my soul were first avenged For all the offensive license of his tongue. I will not wed the daughter of your Chief, Of Agamemnon. Could she vie in charms With golden Venus, had she all the skill Of blue-eyed Pallas, even so endow'd She were no bride for me. No. He may choose From the Achaians some superior Prince, One more her equal. Peleus, if the Gods Preserve me, and I safe arrive at home, Himself, ere long, shall mate me with a bride. In Hellas and in Phthia may be found Fair damsels many, daughters of the Chiefs Who guard our cities; I may choose of them, And make the loveliest of them all my own. There, in my country, it hath ever been My dearest purpose, wedded to a wife Of rank convenient, to enjoy in peace Such wealth as ancient Peleus hath acquired. For life, in my account, surpasses far In value all the treasures which report Ascribed to populous Ilium, ere the Greeks Arrived, and while the city yet had peace; Those also which Apollo's marble shrine In rocky Pytho boasts. Fat flocks and beeves May be by force obtain'd, tripods and steeds Are bought or won, but if the breath of man Once overpass its bounds, no force arrests Or may constrain the unbodied spirit back. Me, as my silver-footed mother speaks Thetis, a twofold consummation waits. If still with battle I encompass Troy, I win immortal glory, but all hope Renounce of my return. If I return To my beloved country, I renounce The illustrious meed of glory, but obtain Secure and long immunity from death. And truly I would recommend to all To voyage homeward, for the fall as yet Ye shall not see of Ilium's lofty towers, For that the Thunderer with uplifted arm Protects her, and her courage hath revived. Bear ye mine answer back, as is the part Of good ambassadors, that they may frame Some likelier plan, by which both fleet and host May be preserved; for, my resentment still Burning, this project is but premature. Let Phoenix stay with us, and sleep this night Within my tent, that, if he so incline, He may to-morrow in my fleet embark, And hence attend me; but I leave him free.
DAHLGREN, KARL FREDRIK (1791-1844), Swedish poet, was born at Stensbruk in Östergötland on the 20th of June 1791. At a time when literary partisanship ran high in Sweden, and the writers divided themselves into "Goths" and "Phosphorists," Dahlgren made himself indispensable to the Phosphorists by his polemical activity. In the mock-heroic poem of _Markalls sömnlösa nätter_ (Markall's Sleepless Nights), in which the Phosphorists ridiculed the academician Per Adam Wallmark and others, Dahlgren, who was a genuine humorist, took a prominent part. In 1825 he published _Babels Torn_ (The Tower of Babel), a satire, and a comedy, _Argus in Olympen_; and in 1828 two volumes of poems. In 1829 he was appointed to an ecclesiastical post in Stockholm, which he held until his death. In a series of odes and dithyrambic pieces, entitled _Mollbergs Epistlar_ (1819, 1820), he strove to emulate the wonderful lyric genius of K. M. Bellman, of whom he was a student and follower. From 1825 to 1827 he edited a critical journal entitled _Kometen_ (The Comet), and in company with Almqvist he founded the _Manhemsförbund_, a short-lived society of agricultural socialists. In 1834 he collected his poems in one volume; and in 1837 appeared his last book, _Angbåts-Sånger_ (Steamboat Songs). On the 1st of May 1844 he died at Stockholm. Dahlgren is one of the best humorous writers that Sweden has produced; but he was perhaps at his best in realistic and idyllic description. His little poem of _Zephyr and the Girl_, which is to be found in every selection from Swedish poetry, is a good example of his sensuous and ornamented style. Entry: DAHLGREN
Macaulay's enlightened views and measures drew down on him, however, the abuse and ill-will of Anglo-Indian society. Fortunately for himself he was enabled to maintain a tranquil indifference to political detraction by withdrawing his thoughts into a sphere remote from the opposition and enmity by which he was surrounded. Even amid the excitement of his early parliamentary successes literature had balanced politics in his thoughts and interests. Now in his exile he began to feel more strongly each year the attraction of European letters and European history. He wrote to his friend Ellis: "I have gone back to Greek literature with a passion astonishing to myself. I have never felt anything like it. I was enraptured with Italian during the six months which I gave up to it; and I was little less pleased with Spanish. But when I went back to the Greek I felt as if I had never known before what intellectual enjoyment was." In thirteen months he read through, some of them twice, a large part of the Greek and Latin classics. The fascination of these studies produced their inevitable effect upon his view of political life. He began to wonder what strange infatuation leads men who can do something better to squander their intellect, their health and energy, on such subjects as those which most statesmen are engaged in pursuing. He was already, he says, "more than half determined to abandon politics and give myself wholly to letters, to undertake some great historical work, which may be at once the business and the amusement of my life, and to leave the pleasures of pestiferous rooms, sleepless nights, and diseased stomachs to Roebuck and to Praed." Entry: A
The customs and habits of the Greek peasantry, in which the observances of the classical age may often be traced, together with their legends and traditions, have furnished an interesting subject of investigation to many writers (see _Bibliography_ below). In the towns the more cosmopolitan population has largely adopted the "European" mode of life, and the upper classes show a marked preference for French manners and usages. In both town and country, however, the influence of oriental ideas is still apparent, due in part to the long period of Turkish domination, in part to the contact of the Greeks with Asiatic races at all epochs of their history. In the rural districts, especially, the women lead a somewhat secluded life and occupy a subject position; they wait at table, and only partake of the meal when the men of the family have been served. In most parts of continental Greece the women work in the fields, but in the Aegean Islands and Crete they rarely leave the house. Like the Turks, the Greeks have a great partiality for coffee, which can always be procured even in the remotest hamlets; the Turkish practice of carrying a string of beads or rosary (_comboloio_), which provides an occupation for the hands, is very common. Many of the observances in connexion with births, christenings, weddings and funerals are very interesting and in some cases are evidently derived from remote antiquity. Nuptial ceremonies are elaborate and protracted; in some of the islands of the archipelago they continue for three weeks. In the preliminary negotiations for a marriage the question of the bride's dowry plays a very important part; a girl without a dowry often remains unmarried, notwithstanding the considerable excess of the male over the female population. Immediately after the christening of a female child her parents begin to lay up her portion, and young men often refrain from marrying until their sisters have been settled in life. The dead are carried to the tomb in an open coffin; in the country districts professional mourners are engaged to chant dirges; the body is washed with wine and crowned with a wreath of flowers. A valedictory oration is pronounced at the grave. Many superstitions still prevail among the peasantry; the belief in the vampire and the evil eye is almost universal. At Athens and in the larger towns many handsome dwelling-houses may be seen, but the upper classes have no predilection for rural life, and their country houses are usually mere farmsteads, which they rarely visit. In the more fertile districts two-storeyed houses of the modern type are common, but in the mountainous regions the habitations of the country-folk are extremely primitive; the small stone-built hut, almost destitute of furniture, shelters not only the family but its cattle and domestic animals. In Attica the peasants' houses are usually built of cob. In Maina the villagers live in fortified towers of three or more storeys; the animals occupy the ground floor, the family the topmost storey; the intermediate space serves as a granary or hay-loft. The walls are loop-holed for purposes of defence in view of the traditional vendetta and feuds, which in some instances have been handed down from remote generations and are maintained by occasional sharp-shooting from these primitive fortresses. In general cleanliness and sanitation are much neglected; the traveller in the country districts is doomed to sleepless nights unless he has provided himself with bedding and a hammock. Even Athens, though enriched by many munificent benefactions, is still without a drainage system or an adequate water supply; the sewers of many houses open into the streets, in which rubbish is allowed to accumulate. The effects of insanitary conditions are, however, counteracted in some degree by the excellent climate. The Aegean islanders contrast favourably with the continentals in point of personal cleanliness and the neatness of their dwellings; their houses are generally covered with the flat roof, familiar in Asia, on which the family sleep in summer. The habits and customs of the islanders afford an interesting study. Propitiatory rites are still practised by the mariners and fishermen, and thank-offerings for preservation at sea are hung up in the churches. Among the popular amusements of the Greeks dancing holds a prominent place; the dance is of various kinds; the most usual is the somewhat inanimate round dance ([Greek: syrto] or [Greek: trata]), in which a number of persons, usually of the same sex, take part holding hands; it seems indentical with the Slavonic _kolo_ ("circle"). The more lively Albanian fling is generally danced by three or four persons, one of whom executes a series of leaps and pirouettes. The national music is primitive and monotonous. All classes are passionately addicted to card-playing, which is forbidden by law in places of public resort. The picturesque national costume, which is derived from the Albanian Tosks, has unfortunately been abandoned by the upper classes and the urban population since the abdication of King Otho, who always wore it; it is maintained as the uniform of the _euzones_ (highland regiments). It consists of a red cap with dark blue tassel, a white shirt with wide sleeves, a vest and jacket, sometimes of velvet, handsomely adorned with gold or black braid, a belt in which various weapons are carried, a white kilt or _fustanella_ of many folds, white hose tied with garters, and red leather shoes with pointed ends, from which a tassel depends. Over all is worn the shaggy white _capote_. The islanders wear a dark blue costume with a crimson waistband, loose trousers descending to the knee, stockings and pumps or long boots. The women's costume is very varied; the loose red fez is sometimes worn and a short velvet jacket with rich gold embroidery. The more elderly women are generally attired in black. In the Megara district and elsewhere peasant girls wear on festive occasions a headdress composed of strings of coins which formerly represented the dowry. Entry: A
So we came into the great meeting-hall, pushing through the clamorous mob at the door. In the rows of seats, under the white chandeliers, packed immovably in the aisles and on the sides, perched on every window-sill, and even the edge of the platform, the representatives of the workers and soldiers of all Russia waited in anxious silence or wild exultation the ringing of the chairman’s bell. There was no heat in the hall but the stifling heat of unwashed human bodies. A foul blue cloud of cigarette smoke rose from the mass and hung in the thick air. Occasionally some one in authority mounted the tribune and asked the comrades not to smoke; then everybody, smokers and all, took up the cry “Don’t smoke, comrades!” and went on smoking. Petrovsky, Anarchist delegate from the Obukhov factory, made a seat for me beside him. Unshaven and filthy, he was reeling from three nights’ sleepless work on the Military Revolutionary Committee.
INSOMNIA, or deprivation of sleep (Lat. _somnus_), a common and troublesome feature of most illnesses, both acute and chronic. It may be due to pain, fever or cerebral excitement, as in _delirium tremens_, or to organic changes in the brain. The treatment, when failure to sleep occurs in connexion with a definite illness, is part of the treatment of that illness. But there is a form of sleeplessness not occurring during illness to which the term "insomnia" is commonly and conveniently applied. It must not be confounded with occasional wakefulness caused by some minor discomfort, such as indigestion, nor with the "bad nights" of the valetudinarian. Real insomnia consists in the prolonged inability to obtain sleep sufficient in quantity and quality for the maintenance of health. It is a condition of modern urban life, and may be regarded as a malady in itself. It is a potent factor in causing those nervous breakdowns ascribed to "overwork." It may occur as a sequel to some exhausting illness, notably influenza, which affects the nervous system long after convalescence. But it very often occurs without any such cause. Professional and business men are the most frequent sufferers. Insomnia is comparatively rare among the poor, who do little or no brain work. It may be brought on by some exceptional strain, by long-continued worry, or by sheer overwork. The broad pathology is simple enough. It has been demonstrated by exact observations that in sleep the blood leaves the brain automatically. The function is rhythmical, like all the vital functions, and the mechanism by which it is carried out is no doubt the vaso-motor system, which controls the contraction and dilation of the blood-vessels. In sleep the vessels in the brain automatically contract, but when the brain is working actively a plentiful supply of blood is required, and the vessels are dilated. If the activity is carried to great excess the vessels become engorged, the mechanism does not act and sleep is banished. In insomnia this condition has become fixed. Entry: INSOMNIA
_Treatment._--The patient in the early stage of the disease must be confined to bed and nursed by night as well as day. The food to begin with should be milk, diluted with hot water or aerated water, given frequently and in small quantities. The large intestine should be thoroughly cleared out by large enemata and kept empty by large normal saline enemata administered every second day. Sleep may be secured by lowering the blood pressure with half-grain doses of erythrol-tetra-nitrate. If a hypnotic is necessary, as it will be if the patient has had no natural sleep for two nights in succession, then a full dose of paraldehyde or veronal may be given at bed-time. Under this treatment the majority of cases, if treated early, improve rapidly. As the appetite returns great care must be taken that the patient does not suddenly resume a full ordinary dietary. A sudden return to a full dietary invariably means a relapse, which is often less amenable to treatment than the original attack. Toast should first be added to the milk, and this may be followed by milk puddings and farinaceous foods in small quantities. Any rise of temperature or increase of pulse-rate or tendency to sleeplessness should be regarded as a threatened relapse and treated accordingly. Entry: MELANCHOLIA