2014年1月31日 星期五

Ecclesiasticus Chapter 38 德訓篇38 的正面思考:"THE CONSECRATED EMINENCE" :The Story of the Campus and Buildings of Amherst College





There are approximately 20,000 living alumni, of which about 60% make a gift to Amherst each year—one of the highest alumni participation rates of any college in the country.[66]

https://archive.org/stream/theconsecratedem00king/theconsecratedem00king_djvu.txt


"THE CONSECRATED EMINENCE" :The Story of the Campus and Buildings 
of Amherst College By STANLEY KING, I951 這是麻州名校 AMHERST COLLEGE 一百多年的學校建築物及人物的故事。我最驚訝的卻是: 它引 Ecclesiasticus Chapter 38 德訓篇38的, 跟現在讀"思高聖經本"的內容和感覺,差別很大----它贊揚那些蓋校舍的匠人...... 多"正面思考"而非一味推崇經師.....

CONTENTS 



Preface 

Foreword 

Chapter I 
II 
III 
IV 
V 
VI 
VII 
VIII 



INTRODUCTION i 

THE FOUNDERS BUILD A COLLEGE 6 

ARCHITECTURE "YANKEE ORDER" 32 

"CHRISTIAN AESTHETICS" 52 

"OLD DOC" AND THE PRATTS 84 

THE AGE OF PLIMPTON 115 

THE ALUMNI TAKE THE INITIATIVE 146 
BUILDING FOR THE SECOND 

CENTURY 164 

IX MORE LAND 194 

X BUILDING DURING DEPRESSION 208 

XI FLOOD AND HURRICANE 238 

XII THE PLANT IN WORLD WAR II 256 

XIII POSTWAR BUILDING 280 

XIV THE PRESIDENT'S HOUSE (by Margaret 
Pinckney King) 288 

XV CONCLUSION 297 
Notes on Source Material 306 
Acknowledgments 309 

Appendix i Summary of Buildings (chronological order) 310 

2 College Residences (by streets) 328 

3 College Residences (chronological order) 330 

4 Acquisition of Property (chronological order) 332 

5 Summary of Fraternity Houses 337 

[vii] 



6 Members of Buildings and Grounds Committee 340 

7 Index of Building Costs (graph) 346 

8 Map of Buildings (with buildings since 1924 
indicated by heavy line) 347 

9 Key to Map of College Property 348 

Map of College Property 

10 Buildings in Each Period by Cubic Feet 353 

1 1 Disposition of Centennial Gift 354 

Index 359 



Ecclesiasticus Chapter 38

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Viewing the Standard King James Version (Pure Cambridge). Click to switch to 1611 King James Version of Ecclesiasticus Chapter 38

思高德訓篇

第三十八章

論醫藥
  1. 應尊敬醫生,因為他是非有不可的,也是上主造的。
  2. 治療原是來自至高者;君王對醫生也應送禮。
  3. 醫生的學識使他抬頭,在偉人面前,備受讚揚。
  4. 上主使大地生長藥材,明智人決不輕視它們。
  5. 天主不是用一根木頭,使苦水變甜,
  6. 為彰顯自己的大能麼﹖至高者賜給人學識,是為叫人稱讚他的奇工妙化。
  7. 醫生用藥材治病,減少人的痛苦;藥劑師用藥材配製香甜的合劑,和治療疾病的膏藥。他的工作沒有止境,
  8. 直到醫好了世上的人。
  9. 求醫與求主
  10. 我兒,你患病時,不要失望,但要祈求上主,他要賜你病愈。
  11. 你應遠離過犯,管治你的手,洗淨你心中的一切罪惡;
  12. 你應奉獻馨香和上等麵粉的記念祭品,照你能備辦的,應奉獻肥美的祭品。
  13. 但是也要請醫生來診治,因為他是上主造的,不要讓他離開你,因為你需要他。
  14. 有時他們妙手回春;
  15. 故此他們也應該祈求上主,為使他們能給人安樂與健康,藉此維持自己的生活。
  16. 凡在造他的上主跟前犯罪的人,終會落在醫生手裏。
  17. 居喪與節哀
  18. 我兒,對死者,你應流淚痛哭,有如受重苦的人開始痛哭;又要按死者的身分,安葬他的遺體,不可輕忽對他的喪儀。
  19. 你要悲泣慟哭,且按死者的身分,舉行喪儀。
  20. 為避免人的非難,你要按死者的身份,追悼一天或兩天,以後便要節哀;
  21. 因為悲傷令人早死,且衰敗人的體力,心中的憂苦,使人精神頹唐。
  22. 出殯以後,不要再哀痛,悲傷的生活,是難以忍受的。
  23. 不要任憑你的心憂悶;要驅散憂悶,記得你的結局。
  24. 不要忘記:死者不能再回來;你這樣悲傷,為他沒有好處,對你自己有害。
  25. 死人好像對你說:「你當記得我的命運,因為你的命運,將來也是如此:昨天是我,今天是你。」
  26. 死者既已長眠,憂苦的懷念即應停止;他既然斷了氣,你便該因他而感到安慰。
  27. 勞動與求智
  28. 經師的智慧,是從優閒中得來的;事務不繁忙的人,方能成為明智的人。
  29. 那執犁,自誇善用刺棒趕牛耕作,終日勞碌,言談不離牛犢的,怎能成為明智的人﹖
  30. 他專心於耕田的事,熬夜喂養母牛。
  31. 同樣,工匠和工程師,度夜如日;彫刻匠鐫刻圖樣,常設法改變花樣,專心致志,力求酷肖,熬夜趕完自己的工作。
  32. 同樣,鐵匠坐在鐵砧近旁,思量怎能把生鐵打好;火星噴射在他身上,與灼熱的爐火決鬥,
  33. 鎚聲震動他的耳鼓,他的眼注視著器具模型;
  34. 他專心的完成工作,完成後,又熬夜加以修飾。
  35. 同樣,陶工坐在自己作業的旁邊,用腳轉動機輪,心中常掛念自己的工作,他的工作全是有定數的;
  36. 他用自己的手臂,製成陶泥,用腳把泥踹軟;
  37. 專心去完成塗抹釉彩,熬夜清除爐灶。這些人怎能獲得智慧﹖
  38. 這些人,他們的希望全靠自己的一雙手,各人對於自己的手藝,都很精通。
  39. 若是沒有這等人,便不會建造城池;
  40. 人也沒有房屋住,沒有道路可行。但是,在民眾的會議中,卻沒有人推薦他們,在集會中也不是上流人物。
  41. 他們決坐不上審判官的席位,他們不懂得進行審判的程序;不會講解律例和正義,更不會發明格言。
  42. 他們堅持的,只在於製造世上的器具;他們祈求的,只在於技藝的工作。但是,那將自己的精神,專注於敬畏至高者,專注於認識生命的法律的人,就迥然不同。

2014年1月25日 星期六

Burns’ To A Mouse: The poem we love but few understand


Burns’ To A Mouse: The poem we love but few understand

A mouse
(Alamy)
Robert Burns’ To A Mouse is a poem loved by many – but few really understand it. On the anniversary of his birth, Fioan Macdonald examines its appeal.
Scottish poet Liz Lochhead is not one to idolise Robert Burns the man. “If he were alive today, he would be what we call a sex pest,” she says of her country’s most revered bard. During his short lifetime (he died at the age of 36), Burns fathered many illegitimate children with different women.
But Burns the poet moves her. Lochhead’s poem From a Mouse is a response to one of his most famous poems, the one that gave us the “tim'rous beastie” and “the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men.”
To a Mouse, published in 1786, contains some of the most memorable lines of poetry – and yet its deeper meaning risks being lost. Burns expert George Wilkie claims that the poem is “not really understood by the mass of English-speaking poetry lovers, for no other reason than that the dialect causes it to be read as though in a foreign language.” Readers miss “the sadness and despair contained within the lines of this poem,” he says.
Lochhead agrees. “The poem becomes more interesting to you as you grow older,” she says. “The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men/Gang aft agley,’ seems a cliche but later on, as you go through hard things yourself, you realise the deep truth of it again. His life was so difficult and heartbreaking – it hits you with its poignancy.”
Burns’ work of 1785 describes his feelings after disturbing a fieldmouse in its nest. His apology becomes a reflection on a life of struggle with little reward at the end.
Lochhead believes it’s the language as much as the meaning that makes Burns so revered. “The intimacy of the language thrills me. He’s not romantic about farming at all, instead talking about the winter’s ‘sleety dribble’, and the ‘cranreuch cauld’. I remember my teacher telling me what ‘cranreuch’ meant – it’s the word for a white hoar frost; I wouldn’t have known that otherwise, and now every time I see it I call it a ‘cranreuch cauld’. He gave me words I didn’t have.”
The power of his language comes across despite difficulties in understanding. “He’s popular around the world because of the strength of what he was saying allied to the words he used. He was a complete one-off and an original,” says Lochhead. Burns’ mouse is much more than a blank subject: “It’s about a tiny wee thing that’s so small and so alive – and so subversive.”

2014年1月13日 星期一

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Great Expectations Alt=Serial titles over s silhouette of a black butterfly
Lavish adaptation of the classic Charles Dickens novel in which orphan Pip becomes a gentleman when his life is transformed by a mystery benefactor.



 2014.1.13-15
Great Expectations is a three-part BBC television drama adaptation by Sarah Phelps of the Charles Dickens novel Great Expectations. Starring Ray Winstone as Magwitch, Gillian Anderson as Miss Havisham,[1] Douglas Booth as Pip, Vanessa Kirby as Estella and David Suchet as Jaggers. The adaptation was first broadcast on British television over the Christmas period in 2011.
Anderson's casting as Miss Havisham drew attention to the production due to her being a mere 43 compared to other actresses who have played her. However, critical reception was generally positive.
In 2012, the PBS broadcast earned the series a total of four Creative Arts Emmy Awards out of five nominations for Outstanding Art Direction, Cinematography, Costumes, and Main Title Design.[2] The remaining nomination was for Outstanding Original Main Title Theme Music.





2014年1月9日 星期四

A Summer Night (W.H. Auden /Benjamin Britten): Corot to Monet




Corot to Monet | Exhibitions | The National Gallery, London
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4akRH-FMDoA

"She climbs the European sky,
Churches and power-stations lie.
Alike among earth’s fixtures:
Into the galleries she peers.
And blankly as an orphan stares,
Upon the marvellous pictures.”


 這首譜成曲YouTube

Published on Oct 17, 2013
Benjamin Britten set four stanzas of his friend W.H. Auden's 1933 poem "A Summer Night", to be sung by the alto soloist and mixed chorus, in the 2nd movement of his "Spring Symphony" of 1949. Their use was controversial among critics at the time.





 全詩可找

2007-11-18 14:59:28
SUNDAY DEVOTIONAL:A SUMMER NIGHT
auden
This week’s devotional comes in a moment of quiet, the proverbial calm before the storm. It’s also wholly inspired by an Edward Mendelson essay in the New York Review of Books about the poet W.H. Auden.  I love Auden, but I’d never read this poem until today. It’s so beautiful.
But let me go back a moment. A few weeks ago, I received terrible news. An old friend from high school had lost his only child, a nine-year-old son, to a virus. It happened in a matter of days. Two decades ago, he and I had been close friends. We sat for hours at Peggy’s Barbecue in Dallas and talked about music, movies, women and life. We took our obsessions to ridiculous lengths.
After high school, we lost touch. I got the news of his tragedy from my cousin Martha, who met him in college. I sent a letter of condolence, but what’s to say? What relief exists in this world or the next?
And yet I can’t stop thinking about him and hoping that relief may come. I have a nine-year-old son, too, my only child. So this morning’s selection goes out to Ray in his time of darkness. May the darkness lift. May light,warm and huge, burst upon him.
It’s been said that Auden discovered his belief in the Christian god one summer night while sitting among friends. It was no moment of thunder and lightning, no deep mystery unveiled. He later wrote that, in that moment, he simply understood what it meant to love another as you love yourself. This was the alpha and omega of Auden’s faith, and the poem, “A Summer Night” is his account of the discovery.
According to Mendelsohn’s essay, the poet didn’t believe in Jesus as the literal son of god. He didn’t even believe it was Christian to call oneself a Christian; that was already too much of an assertion. Evidently, his most common use of the word was inside another word, “unChristian”.
This poem, “A Summer Night”, reminds me of the last lines of Denis Johnson’s Tree of Smoke, which has become a kind of spiritual and philosophical cornerstone of this blog. Auden wrote it in June 1933, five months after Hitler came to power in Germany.
A Summer Night
(for Geoffrey Hoyland)
Out on the lawn I lie in bed,
Vega conspicuous overhead
In the windless nights of June,
As congregated leaves complete
Their day’s activity; my feet
Point to the rising moon.

Lucky, this point in time and space
Is chosen as my working-place,
Where the sexy airs of summer.
The bathing hours and the bare arms,
The leisured drives through a land of farms
Are good to a newcomer.


Equal with colleagues in a ring
I sit on each calm evening
Enchanted as the flowers
The opening light draws out of hiding
W ith all its gradual dove-like pleading,
Its logic and its powers:
That later we, though parted then,
May still recall these evenings when
Fear gave his watch no look;
The lion griefs loped from the shade
And on our knees their muzzles laid,
And Death put down his book.

Now north and south and east and west
Those I love lie down to rest;
The moon looks on them all,
The healers and the brilliant talkers,
The eccentrics and the silent walkers,
The dumpy and the tall.

She climbs the European sky,
Churches and power-stations lie
Alike among earth’s fixtures:
Into the galleries she peers
And blankly as a butcher stares
Upon the marvellous pictures.

To gravity attentive, she
Can notice nothing here, though we
Whom hunger does not move,
From gardens where we feel secure
Look up and with a sigh endure
The tyrannies of love:

And, gentle, do not care to know,
Where Poland draws her eastern bow,
What violence is done,
Nor ask what doubtful act allows
Our freedom in this English house,
Our picnics in the sun.

Soon, soon, through dykes of our content
The crumpling flood will force a rent
And, taller than a tree,
Hold sudden death before our eyes
Whose river dreams long hid the size
And vigours of the sea.

But when the waters make retreat
And through the black mud first the wheat
In shy green stalks appears,
When stranded monsters gasping lie,
And sounds of riveting terrify
Their whorled unsubtle ears,

May these delights we dread to lose,
This privacy, need no excuse
But to that strength belong,
As through a child’s rash happy cries
The drowned parental voices rise
In unlamenting song.

After discharges of alarm
All unpredicted let them calm
The pulse of nervous nations,
Forgive the murderer in his glass,
Tough in their patience to surpass
The tigress her swift motions.





2014年1月8日 星期三

"Alastor; or, The Spirit of Solitude" -- Preface

Contents Index

"Alastor; or, The Spirit of Solitude" -- Preface

By Percy Bysshe Shelley


Preface

The poem entitled "ALASTOR," may be considered as allegorical of one of the most interesting situations of the human mind. It represents a youth of uncorrupted feelings and adventurous genius led forth by an imagination inflamed and purified through familiarity with all that is excellent and majestic, to the contemplation of the universe. He drinks deep of the fountains of knowledge, and is still insatiate. The magnificence and beauty of the external world sinks profoundly into the frame of his conceptions, and affords to their modifications a variety not to be exhausted. So long as it is possible for his desires to point towards objects thus infinite and unmeasured, he is joyous, and tranquil, and self-possessed. But the period arrives when these objects cease to suffice. His mind is at length suddenly awakened and thirsts for intercourse with an intelligence similar to itself. He images to himself the Being whom he loves. Conversant with speculations of the sublimest and most perfect natures, the vision in which he embodies his own imaginations unites all of wonderful, or wise, or beautiful, which the poet, the philosopher, or the lover could depicture. The intellectual faculties, the imagination, the functions of sense, have their respective requisitions on the sympathy of corresponding powers in other human beings. The Poet is represented as uniting these requisitions, and attaching them to a single image. He seeks in rain for a prototype of his conception. Blasted by his disappointment, he descends to an untimely grave.
The picture is not barren of instruction to actual men. The Poet's self-centred seclusion was avenged by the furies of an irresistible passion pursuing him to speedy ruin. But that Power which strikes the luminaries of the world with sudden darkness and extinction, by awakening them to too exquisite a perception of its influences, dooms to a slow and poisonous decay those meaner spirits that dare to abjure its dominion. Their destiny is more abject and inglorious as their delinquency is more contemptible and pernicious. They who, deluded by no generous error, instigated by no sacred. thirst of doubtful knowledge, duped by no illustrious superstition, loving nothing on this earth, and cherishing no hopes beyond, yet keep aloof from sympathies with their kind, rejoicing neither in human joy nor mourning with human grief; these, and such as they, have their apportioned curse. They languish, because none feel with them their common nature. They are morally dead. They are neither friends, nor lovers, nor fathers, nor citizens of the world, nor benefactors of their country. Among those who attempt to exist without human sympathy, the pure and tender-hearted perish through the intensity and passion of their search after its communities, when the vacancy of their spirit suddenly makes itself felt. All else, selfish, blind, and torpid, are those unforeseeing multitudes who constitute together with their own, the lasting misery and loneliness of the world. Those who love not their fellow-beings live unfruitful lives, and prepare for their old age a miserable grave.
                              "The good die first,
                              And those whose hearts are dry as summer dust,
                              Burn to the socket!"