Do not underestimate the value of print statements for debugging.
I do not suppose that I am exceptionally endowed because I have all my life enjoyed a keen perception of the beauty offered us by nature and by art Now physical science may and probably will, some day, enable our posterity to set forth the exact physical concomitants and conditions of the strange rapture of beauty. But if ever that day arrives, the rapture will remain, just as it is now, outside and beyond the physical world; and, even in the mental world, something superadded to mere sensation. I do not wish to crow unduly over my humble cousin the orang, but in the aesthetic province, as in that of tine intellect, I am afraid he is nowhere. I doubt not he would detect a fruit amidst a wilderness of leaves where I could see nothing; but I am tolerably confident that he has never been awestruck, as I have been, by the dim religious gloom, as of a temple devoted to the earthgods, of the tropical forests which he inhabits. Yet I doubt not that our poor long-armed and short-legged friend, as he sits meditatively munching his durian fruit, has something behind that sad Socratic face of his which is utterly "beyond the bounds of physical science." Physical science may know all about his clutching the fruit and munching it and digesting it, and how the physical titillation of his palate is transmitted to some microscopic cells of the gray matter of his brain. But the feelings of sweetness and of satisfaction which, for a moment, hang out their signal lights in his melancholy eyes, are as utterly outside the bounds of physics as is the "fine frenzy" of a human rhapsodist.
My close relationship with Alice Waters illustrates the kind of client with whom I get along best. We have a clear aesthetic, are dedicated to our work, and leave each other to do the best we can for each other. I cannot imagine a finer relationship.
The social leaders who refuse to allow politics into society are as foreseeing as the soldiers who refuse to allow politics to permeate the army. Society is like the sexual appetite; one does not know at what forms of perversion it may not arrive, once we have allowed our choice to be dictated by aesthetic considerations.
Thousands of days of civilians ... have produced a ... feeling for the
Do not underestimate the value of print statements for debugging. Don't have aesthetic convulsions when using them, either.
Japanese Minimalism: The most frequently offered interior design aesthetic used by rootless career-hopping young people. -- Douglas Coupland, "Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture"
Real computer scientists admire ADA for its overwhelming aesthetic</p> value but they find it difficult to actually program in it, as it is much too large to implement. Most computer scientists don't notice this because they are still arguing over what else to add to ADA.
write-protect tab, n.: A small sticker created to cover the unsightly notch carelessly left by disk manufacturers. The use of the tab creates an error message once in a while, but its aesthetic value far outweighs the momentary inconvenience. -- Robb Russon
Ethics and Aesthetics are one.
A little later, as we sat at the press table in the big hall, an Anarchist who was writing for the bourgeois papers proposed to me that we go and find out what had become of the presidium. There was nobody in the _Tsay-ee-kah_ office, nor in the bureau of the Petrograd Soviet. From room to room we wandered, through vast Smolny. Nobody seemed to have the slightest idea where to find the governing body of the Congress. As we went my companion described his ancient revolutionary activities, his long and pleasant exile in France.... As for the Bolsheviki, he confided to me that they were common, rude, ignorant persons, without aesthetic sensibilities. He was a real specimen of the Russian _intelligentzia_.... So he came at last to Room 17, office of the Military Revolutionary Committee, and stood there in the midst of all the furious coming and going. The door opened, and out shot a squat, flat-faced man in a uniform without insignia, who seemed to be smiling--which smile, after a minute, one saw to be the fixed grin of extreme fatigue. It was Krylenko.
Not even Spock had stayed aboard for that—he found breathing vacuum for any length of time to be aesthetically unpleasant.
It acquires its first importance in the theories of Heraclitus (6th century B.C.), who, trying to account for the aesthetic order of the visible universe, broke away to some extent from the purely physical conceptions of his predecessors and discerned at work in the cosmic process a [Greek: logos] analogous to the reasoning power in man. On the one hand the Logos is identified with [Greek: gnômê] and connected with [Greek: dikê], which latter seems to have the function of correcting deviations from the eternal law that rules in things. On the other hand it is not positively distinguished either from the ethereal fire, or from the [Greek: heimarmenê] and the [Greek: anankê] according to which all things occur. Heraclitus holds that nothing material can be thought of without this Logos, but he does not conceive the Logos itself to be immaterial. Whether it is regarded as in any sense possessed of intelligence and consciousness is a question variously answered. But there is most to say for the negative. This Logos is not one above the world or prior to it, but in the world and inseparable from it. Man's soul is a part of it. It is _relation_, therefore, as Schleiermacher expresses it, or reason, not speech or word. And it is objective, not subjective, reason. Like a law of nature, objective in the world, it gives order and regularity to the movement of things, and makes the system rational.[1] Entry: 1
Between the separate uplands there extends a plain of Permian and Triassic rocks, which may conveniently be considered as an intermediate zone between the two main divisions. To the eye it forms an almost continuous plain with the belt of Lias clays, which is the outer border of the Eastern Division; for although a low escarpment marks the line of junction, and seems to influence the direction of the main rivers, there is only one plain so far as regards free movement over its surface and the construction of canals, roads and railways. The plain usually forms a distinct border along the landward margins of the uplands of more ancient rock, though to the east of the Cornwall-Devon peninsula it is not very clear, and its continuity in other places is broken by inliers of the more ancient rocks, which everywhere underlie it. One such outcrop of Carboniferous Limestone in the south forms the Mendip Hills; another of the Coal Measures increases the importance of Bristol, where it stands at the head of navigation on the southern Avon. In the north-west a tongue of the Red rocks forms the Eden valley, separating the Lake District from the Pennine Chain, with Carlisle as its central town. Farther south, these rocks form the low coastal belt of Lancashire, edged with the longest stretches of blown sand in England, and dotted here and there with pleasure towns, like Blackpool and Southport. The plain sweeps round south of the Lancashire coal-field, forms the valley of the Mersey from Stockport to the sea, and farther south in Cheshire the salt-bearing beds of the Keuper marls give rise to a characteristic industry. The plain extends through Staffordshire and Worcester, forming the lower valley of the Severn. The greater part of Manchester, all Liverpool and Birkenhead, and innumerable busy towns of medium size, which in other parts of England would rank as great centres of population, stand on this soil. Its flat surface and low level facilitate the construction of railways and canals, which form a closer network over it than in other parts of the country. The great junction of Crewe, where railways from south-east, south-west, east, west and north converge, is thus explained. South of the Pennines, the Red rocks extend eastward in a great sweep through the south of Derbyshire, Warwick, the west of Leicestershire, and the east of Nottingham, their margin being approximately marked by the Avon, flowing south-west, and the Soar and Trent, flowing north-east. South and east of these streams the very similar country is on the Lias clay. Several small coal-fields rise through the Red rocks--the largest, between Stafford and Birmingham, forms the famous "Black Country," with Wolverhampton and Dudley as centres, where the manufacture of iron has preserved a historic continuity, for the great Forest of Arden supplied charcoal until the new fuel from the pits took its place. This coal-field, ministering to the multifarious metal manufactures of Birmingham, constitutes the centre of the Midlands. Smaller patches of the Coal Measures appear near Tamworth and Burton, while deep shafts have been sunk in many places through the overlying Triassic strata to the coal below, thus extending the mining and manufacturing area beyond the actual outcrop of the Coal Measures. A few small outcrops occur where still more ancient strata have been raised to the surface, as, for instance, in Charnwood Forest, where the Archaean rocks, with intrusions of granite, create a patch of highland scenery in the very heart of the English plain; and in the Lickey Hills, near Birmingham, where the prominent features are due to volcanic rocks of very ancient date. The "Waterstones," or Lower Keuper Sandstones,--forming gentle elevations above the softer marls, and usually charged with an abundant supply of water, which can be reached by wells,--form the site of many towns, such as Birmingham, Warwick and Lichfield, and of very numerous villages. The plain as a whole is fertile and undulating, rich in woods and richer in pasture: the very heart of rural England. Cattle-grazing is the chief farm industry in the west, sheep and horse-rearing in the east; the prevalence of the prefix "Market" in the names of the rural towns is noticeable in this respect. The manufacture of woollen and leather goods is a natural result of the raising of live stock; Leicester, Coventry and Nottingham are manufacturing towns of the region. The historic castles, the sites of ancient battles, and the innumerable mansions of the wealthy, combine to give to central England a certain aesthetic interest which the more purely manufacturing districts of the west and north fail to inspire. The midland plain curves northward between the outcrop of the Dolomite on the west and the Oolitic heights on the east. It sinks lowest where the estuary of the Humber gathers in its main tributaries, and the greater part of the surface is covered with recent alluvial deposits. The Trent runs north in the southern half of this plain, the Ouse runs south through the northern half, which is known as the Vale of York, lying low between the Pennine heights on the west and the Yorkshire moors on the east. Where the plain reaches the sea, the soft rocks are cut back into the estuary of the Tees, and there Middlesbrough stands at the base of the Moors. The quiet beauty of the rural country in the south, where the barren Bunter pebble-beds have never invited agriculture, and where considerable vestiges of the old woodland still remain in and near Sherwood Forest, has attracted so many seats of the landed aristocracy as to earn for that part the familiar name of "the Dukeries." The central position of York in the north made it the capital of Roman Britain in ancient times, and an important railway junction in our own. Entry: II
IBN ATHIR, the family name of three brothers, all famous in Arabian literature, born at Jazirat ibn 'Umar in Kurdistan. The eldest brother, known as MAJD UD-DIN (1149-1210), was long in the service of the amir of Mosul, and was an earnest student of tradition and language. His dictionary of traditions (_Kitab un-Nihaya_) was published at Cairo (1893), and his dictionary of family names (_Kitab ul-Murassa'_) has been edited by Seybold (Weimar, 1896). The youngest brother, known as DIYA UD-DIN (1163-1239), served Saladin from 1191 on, then his son, al-Malik ul-Afdal, and was afterwards in Egypt, Samosata, Aleppo, Mosul and Bagdad. He was one of the most famous aesthetic and stylistic critics in Arabian literature. His _Kitab ul-Mathal_, published in Bulaq in 1865 (cf. _Journal of the German Oriental Society_, xxxv. 148, and Goldziher's _Abhandlungen_, i. 161 sqq.), contains some very independent criticism of ancient and modern Arabic verse. Some of his letters have been published by D. S. Margoliouth "On the Royal Correspondence of Diya ed-Din el-Jazari" in the _Actes du dixième congrès international des orientalistes_, sect. 3, pp. 7-21. Entry: IBN
II. _Tonality._--As soon as the major and minor triad and their first inversions were well-defined entities, it became evident that the successions of these concords and their alternations with discord involved principles at once larger and more subtle than those of mere difference in smoothness and artificiality. Not only was a major chord (or at least its skeleton) necessary for the final point of repose in a composition, but it could not itself sound final unless the concords as well as the discords before it showed a well-defined tendency towards it. This tendency was best realized when the penultimate concord had its fundamental note at the distance of a 5th or a 4th above or below that of the final chord. When the fundamental note of the penultimate chord is a 5th above or (what is the same thing) a 4th below that of the final chord, we have an "authentic" or "perfect" cadence, and the relation between the two chords is very clear. While the contrast between them is well marked, they have one note in common--for the root of the penultimate chord is the 5th of the final chord; and the statement of this common note, first as an octave or unison and then as a 5th, expresses the first facts of harmony with a force which the major 3rds of the chords can only strengthen, while it also involves in the bass that melodic interval of the 4th or the 5th which is now known to be the germ of all melodic scales. The relation of the final note of a scale with its upper 5th or lower 4th thus becomes a fundamental fact of complex harmonic significance--that is to say, of harmony modified by melody in so far as it concerns the succession of sounds as well as their simultaneous combination. In our modern key-system the final note of the scale is called the _tonic_, and the 5th above or 4th below it is the _dominant_. (In the 16th century the term "dominant" has this meaning only in the "authentic" modes other than the Phrygian, but as an aesthetic fact it is present in all music, though the theory here given would not have been intelligible to any composers before the 18th century). Another penultimate chord asserts itself as the converse of the dominant--namely, the chord of which the root is a 5th below or a 4th above the final. This chord has not that relationship to the final which the dominant chord shows, for its fundamental note is not in the harmonic series of the final. But the fundamental note of the final chord is in its harmonic series, and in fact stands to it as the dominant stands to the final. Thus the progression from _subdominant_, as it is called, to tonic, or final, forms a full close known as the "plagal cadence," second only in importance to the "perfect" or "authentic cadence." In our modern key-system these three chords, the tonic, the dominant and the subdominant, form a firm harmonic centre in reference to which all other chords are grouped. The tonic is the final in which everything ultimately resolves: the dominant stands on one side of it as a chord based on the note harmonically most closely related to the tonic, and the subdominant stands on the other side as the converse and opposite of the dominant, weaker than the dominant because not directly derived from the tonic. The other triads obtainable from the notes of the scale are all minor, and of less importance; and their relationship to each other and to the tonic is most definite when they are so grouped that their basses rise and fall in 4th and 5ths, because they then tend to imitate the relationship between tonic, dominant and subdominant. Entry: II
Criticism has been one of the latest branches of literature to reach maturity, but from very early times the instinct which induces mankind to review what it has produced led to the composition of imperfect but often extremely valuable bodies of opinion. What makes these early criticisms tantalizing is that the moral or political aspects of literature had not disengaged themselves from the purely intellectual or aesthetic. Entry: CRITICISM
The investigation of the conditions under which adaptation of nature to intelligence is conceivable and possible makes up the subject of the third great _Kritik_, the _Kritik of Judgment_, a work presenting unusual difficulties to the interpreter of the Kantian system. The general principle of the adaptation of nature to our faculties of cognition has two specific applications, with the second of which it is more closely connected than with the first. In the first place, the adaptation may be merely _subjective_, when the empirical condition for the exercise of judgment is furnished by the feeling of pleasure or pain; such adaptation is aesthetic. In the second place, the adaptation may be objective or logical, when empirical facts are given of such a kind that their possibility can be conceived only through the notion of the end realized in them; such adaptation is teleological, and the empirical facts in question are organisms. Entry: 1798
IBSEN, HENRIK (1828-1906), Norwegian dramatic and lyric poet, eldest son of Knud Henriksen Ibsen, a merchant, and of his wife Marichen Cornelia Altenburg, was born at Skien on the 20th of March 1828. For five generations the family had consisted on the father's side of a blending of the Danish, German and Scottish races, with no intermixture of pure Norwegian. In 1836 Knud Ibsen became insolvent, and the family withdrew, in great poverty, to a cottage in the outskirts of the town. After brief schooling at Skien, Ibsen was, towards the close of 1843, apprenticed to an apothecary in Grimstad; here he remained through seven dreary years of drudgery, which set their mark upon his spirit. In 1847, in his nineteenth year, he began to write poetry. He made a gloomy and almost sinister impression upon persons who met him at this time, and one of his associates of those days has recorded that Ibsen "walked about Grimstad like a mystery sealed with seven seals." He had continued, by assiduous reading, his self-education, and in 1850 he contrived to come up as a student to Christiania. In the same year he published his first work, the blank-verse tragedy of _Catilina_, under the pseudonym Brynjolf Bjarme. A second drama, _The Viking's Barrow_, was acted (but not printed) a few months later; Ibsen was at this time entirely under the influence of the Danish poet Oehlenschläger. During the next year or two he made a very precarious livelihood in Christiania as a journalist, but in November 1851 he had the good fortune to be appointed "stage-poet" at the little theatre of Bergen, with a small but regular salary. He was practically manager at this house, and he also received a travelling stipend. In 1852, therefore, he went for five months to study the stage, to Copenhagen and to Dresden. Among many dramatic experiments which Ibsen made in Bergen, the most considerable and most satisfactory is the saga-drama of _Mistress Inger at Östraat_, which was produced in 1855; and printed at Christiania in 1857; here are already perceptible some qualities of his mature character. Much less significant, although at the time more successful, is _The Feast at Solhaug_, a tragedy produced in Bergen in 1856; here for a moment Ibsen abandoned his own nascent manner for an imitation of the popular romantic dramatist of Denmark, Henrik Hertz. It is noticeable that Ibsen, by far the most original of modern writers for the stage, was remarkably slow in discovering the true bent of his genius. His next dramatic work was the romantic tragedy of _Olaf Liljekrans_, performed in 1857, but unprinted until 1898. This was the last play Ibsen wrote in Bergen. In the summer of the former year his five years' appointment came to an end, and he returned to Christiania. Almost immediately he began the composition of a work which showed an extraordinary advance on all that he had written before, the beautiful saga-drama of _The Warriors in Helgeland_, in which he threw off completely the influence of the Danish romantic tragedians, and took his material directly from the ancient Icelandic sources. This play marks an epoch in the development of Norwegian literature. It was received by the managers, both in Christiania and Copenhagen, with contemptuous disapproval, and in the autumn of 1857 Ibsen could not contrive to produce it even at the new theatre of which he was now the manager. _The Warriors_ was printed at Christiania in 1858, but was not acted anywhere until 1861. During these years Ibsen suffered many reverses and humiliations, but he persisted in his own line in art. Some of his finest short poems, among others the admirable seafaring romance, _Terje Vigen_, belong to the year 1860. The annoyances which Ibsen suffered, and the retrograde and ignorant conditions which he felt around him in Norway, developed the ironic qualities in his genius, and he became an acid satirist. The brilliant rhymed drama, _Love's Comedy_, a masterpiece of lyric wit and incisive vivacity, was published in 1862. This was a protest against the conventionality which deadens the beauty of all the formal relations between men and women, and against the pettiness, the publicity, and the prosiness of betrothed and married life among the middle classes in Norway; it showed how society murders the poetry of love. For some time past Ibsen had been meditating another saga-drama in prose, and in 1864 this appeared, _Kongsemnerne_ (The Pretenders). These works, however, now so universally admired, contained an element of strangeness which was not welcome when they were new. Ibsen's position in Christiania grew more and more disagreeable, and he had positive misfortunes which added to his embarrassment. In 1862 his theatre became bankrupt, and he was glad to accept the poorly-paid post of "aesthetic adviser" at the other house. An attempt to obtain a poet's pension (_digtergage_) was unsuccessful; the Storthing, which had just voted one to Björnson, refused to do the same for Ibsen. His cup was full of disillusion and bitterness, and in April 1864 he started, by Berlin and Trieste, ultimately to settle in Rome. His anger and scorn gave point to the satirical arrows which he shot back to his thankless fatherland from Italy in the splendid poem of _Brand_, published in Copenhagen in 1866, a fierce attack on the Laodicean state of religious and moral sentiment in the Norway of that day; the central figure, the stern priest Brand, who attempts to live like Christ and is snubbed and hounded away by his latitudinarian companions, is one of the finest conceptions of a modern poet. Ibsen had scarcely closed _Brand_ before he started a third lyrico-dramatic satire. _Peer Gynt_ (1867), which remains, in a technical sense, the most highly finished of all his metrical works. In _Brand_ the hero had denounced certain weaknesses which Ibsen saw in the Norwegian character, but these and other faults are personified in the hero of _Peer Gynt_; or rather, in this figure the poet pictured, in a type, the Norwegian nation in all the egotism, vacillation, and lukewarmness which he believed to be characteristic of it. Ibsen, however, acted better than he preached, and he soon forgot his abstraction in the portrait of Peer Gynt as a human individual. In this magnificent work modern Norwegian literature first rises to a level with the finest European poetry of the century. In 1869 Ibsen wrote the earliest of his prose dramas, the political comedy, _The Young Men's League_, in which for the first time he exercised his extraordinary gift for perfectly natural and yet pregnant dialogue. Ibsen was in Egypt, in October 1869, when his comedy was put on the stage in Christiania, amid violent expressions of hostility; on hearing the news, he wrote his brilliant little poem of defiance, called _At Port Saïd_. By this time, however, he had become a successful author; _Brand_ sold largely, and has continued to be the most popular of Ibsen's writings. In 1866, moreover, the Storthing had been persuaded to vote him a "poet's pension," and there was now an end of Ibsen's long struggle with poverty. In 1868 he left Rome, and settled in Dresden until 1874, when he returned to Norway. But after a short visit he went back to Germany, and lived first at Dresden, afterwards at Munich, and did not finally settle in Christiania until 1891. His shorter lyrical poems were collected in 1871, and in that year his name and certain of his writings were for the first time mentioned to the English public. At this time he was revising his old works, which were out of print, and which he would not resign again to the reading world until he had subjected them to what in some instances (for example, _Mistress Inger at Östraat_) amounted to practical recomposition. In 1873 he published a double drama, each part of which was of unusual bulk, the whole forming the tragedy of _Emperor and Galilean_; this, Ibsen's latest historical play, has for subject the unsuccessful struggle of Julian the Apostate to hold the world against the rising tide of Christianity. The work is of an experimental kind, and takes its place between the early poetry and the later prose of the author. Compared with the series of plays which Ibsen had already inaugurated with _The Young Men's League_, _Emperor and Galilean_ preserves a colour of idealism and even of mysticism which was for many years to be absent from Ibsen's writings, but to reappear in his old age with _The Master-builder_. There is some foundation for the charge that Ibsen has made his romantic Greek emperor needlessly squalid, and that he has robbed him, at last, too roughly of all that made him a sympathetic exponent of Hellenism. Ibsen was now greatly occupied by the political spectacle of Germany at war first in Denmark, then in France, and he believed that all things were conspiring to start a new epoch of individualism. He was therefore deeply disgusted by the Paris commune, and disappointed by the conservative reaction which succeeded it. This disillusion in political matters had a very direct influence upon Ibsen's literary work. It persuaded him that nothing could be expected in the way of reform from democracies, from large blind masses of men moved capriciously in any direction, but that the sole hope for the future must lie in the study of personality, in the development of individual character. He set himself to diagnose the conditions of society, which he had convinced himself lay sick unto death. Hitherto Ibsen had usually employed rhymed verse for his dramatic compositions, or, in the case of his saga-plays, a studied and artificial prose. Now, in spite of the surprising achievements of his poetry, he determined to abandon versification, and to write only in the language of everyday conversation. In the first drama of this his new period, _The Pillars of Society_ (1877), he dealt with the problem of hypocrisy in a small commercial centre of industry, and he drew in the Bernick family a marvellous picture of social egotism in a prosperous seaport town. There was a certain similarity between this piece and _A Doll's House_ (1879), although the latter was much the more successful in awakening curiosity. Indeed, no production of Ibsen's has been so widely discussed as this, which is nevertheless not the most coherently conceived of his plays. Here also, social hypocrisy, was the object of the playwright's satire, but this time mainly in relation to marriage. In _A Doll's House_ Ibsen first developed his views with regard to the individualism of woman. In his previous writings he had depicted woman as a devoted and willing sacrifice to man; here he begins to explain that she has no less a duty to herself, and must keep alive her own conception of honour and of responsibility. The conclusion of _A Doll's House_ was violently and continuously discussed through the length and breadth of Europe, and to the situation of Nora Helmer is probably due more than to anything else the long tradition that Ibsen is "immoral." He braved convention still more audaciously in _Ghosts_ (1881), perhaps the most powerful of the series of plays in which Ibsen diagnoses the diseases of modern society. It was received in Norway with a tumult of ill-will, and the author was attacked no less venomously than he had been twenty years before. Ibsen was astonished and indignant at the reception given to _Ghosts_, and at the insolent indifferentism of the majority to all ideas of social reform. He wrote, more as a pamphlet than as a play, what is yet one of the most effective of his comedies, _An Enemy of the People_ (1882). Dr Stockmann, the hero of that piece, discovers that the drainage system of the bathing-station on which the little town depends is faulty, and the water impure and dangerous. He supposes that the corporation will be grateful to have these deficiencies pointed out; on the contrary, they hound him out of their midst as an "enemy of the people." In this play occurs Ibsen's famous and typical saying, "a minority may be right--a majority is always wrong." This polemical comedy seemed at first to be somewhat weakened by the personal indignation which runs through it, but it has held the stage. Ibsen's next drama, _The Wild Duck_ (1884), was written in singular contrast with the zest and fire which had inspired _An Enemy of the People_. Here he is squalid and pessimistic to a degree elsewhere unparalleled in his writings; it is not quite certain that he is not here guilty of a touch of parody of himself. The main figure of the play is an unhealthy, unlucky enthusiast, who goes about making hopeless mischief by exposing weak places in the sordid subterfuges of others. This drama contains a figure, Hjálmar Ekdal, who claims the bad pre-eminence of being the meanest scoundrel in all drama. _The Wild Duck_ is the darkest, the least relieved, of Ibsen's studies of social life, and his object in composing it is not obvious. With _Rosmersholm_ (1886) he rose to the height of his genius again; this is a mournful, but neither a pessimistic nor a cynical play. The fates which hang round the contrasted lives of Rosmer and Rebecca, the weak-willed scrupulous man and the strong-willed unshrinking woman, the old culture and the new, the sickly conscience and the robust one, create a splendid dramatic antithesis. Ibsen then began to compose a series of dramas, of a more and more symbolical and poetic character; the earliest of these was the mystical _The Lady from the Sea_ (1888). At Christmas 1890 he brought out _Hedda Gabler_; two years later _The Master-builder_ (_Bygmester Solnaes_), in which many critics see the highest attainment of his genius; at the close of 1894 _Little Eyolf_; in 1896 _John Gabriel Borkman_; and in 1900 _When We Dead Awaken_. On the occasion of his seventieth birthday (1898) Ibsen was the recipient of the highest honours from his own country and of congratulations and gifts from all parts of the world. A colossal bronze statue of him was erected outside the new National Theatre, Christiania, in September 1899. In 1901 his health began to decline, and he was ordered by the physician to abandon every species of mental effort. The evil advanced, and he became unconscious of the passage of events. After lingering in this sad condition he died, without suffering, on the 23rd of May 1906, and was accorded a public funeral, with the highest national honours. Entry: IBSEN