There's a trick to the Graceful Exit. It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, a relationship is over -- and to let go. It means leaving what's over without denying its validity or its
that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving on, rather than out.
The trick of retiring well may be the trick of living well. It's hard to
recognize that life isn't a holding action, but a process. It's hard to
learn that we don't leave the best parts of ourselves behind, back in the
dugout or the office. We own what we learned back there. The experiences
and the growth are grafted onto our lives. And when we exit, we can take
ourselves along -- quite gracefully.
-- Ellen Goodman
He said, and brandishing his massy spear Dismiss'd it at Aretus; full he smote His ample shield, nor stay'd the pointed brass, But penetrating sheer the disk, his belt Pierced also, and stood planted in his waist. As when some vigorous youth with sharpen'd axe A pastured bullock smites behind the horns And hews the muscle through; he, at the stroke Springs forth and falls, so sprang Aretus forth, Then fell supine, and in his bowels stood The keen-edged lance still quivering till he died. Then Hector, in return, his radiant spear Hurl'd at Automedon, who of its flight Forewarn'd his body bowing prone, the stroke Eluded, and the spear piercing the soil Behind him, shook to its superior end, Till, spent by slow degrees, its fury slept. And now, with hand to hilt, for closer war Both stood prepared, when through the multitude Advancing at their fellow-warrior's call, The Ajaces suddenly their combat fierce Prevented. Awed at once by their approach Hector retired, with whom Æneas went Also and godlike Chromius, leaving there Aretus with his vitals torn, whose arms, Fierce as the God of war Automedon Stripp'd off, and thus exulted o'er the slain.
The door was wide open, a hackney-coach was standing in the middle of the yard--a strange sight before so noble a mansion; the count looked at it with terror, but without daring to inquire its meaning, he rushed towards his apartment. Two persons were coming down the stairs; he had only time to creep into an alcove to avoid them. It was Mercedes leaning on her son's arm and leaving the house. They passed close by the unhappy being, who, concealed behind the damask curtain, almost felt Mercedes dress brush past him, and his son's warm breath, pronouncing these words,--"Courage, mother! Come, this is no longer our home!" The words died away, the steps were lost in the distance. The general drew himself up, clinging to the curtain; he uttered the most dreadful sob which ever escaped from the bosom of a father abandoned at the same time by his wife and son. He soon heard the clatter of the iron step of the hackney-coach, then the coachman's voice, and then the rolling of the heavy vehicle shook the windows. He darted to his bedroom to see once more all he had loved in the world; but the hackney-coach drove on and the head of neither Mercedes nor her son appeared at the window to take a last look at the house or the deserted father and husband. And at the very moment when the wheels of that coach crossed the gateway a report was heard, and a thick smoke escaped through one of the panes of the window, which was broken by the explosion.
On the morning of the twenty-fifth Pierre was leaving Mozhaysk. At the descent of the high steep hill, down which a winding road led out of the town past the cathedral on the right, where a service was being held and the bells were ringing, Pierre got out of his vehicle and proceeded on foot. Behind him a cavalry regiment was coming down the hill preceded by its singers. Coming up toward him was a train of carts carrying men who had been wounded in the engagement the day before. The peasant drivers, shouting and lashing their horses, kept crossing from side to side. The carts, in each of which three or four wounded soldiers were lying or sitting, jolted over the stones that had been thrown on the steep incline to make it something like a road. The wounded, bandaged with rags, with pale cheeks, compressed lips, and knitted brows, held on to the sides of the carts as they were jolted against one another. Almost all of them stared with naive, childlike curiosity at Pierre's white hat and green swallow-tail coat.
When starting on a journey or changing their mode of life, men capable of reflection are generally in a serious frame of mind. At such moments one reviews the past and plans for the future. Prince Andrew's face looked very thoughtful and tender. With his hands behind him he paced briskly from corner to corner of the room, looking straight before him and thoughtfully shaking his head. Did he fear going to the war, or was he sad at leaving his wife?--perhaps both, but evidently he did not wish to be seen in that mood, for hearing footsteps in the passage he hurriedly unclasped his hands, stopped at a table as if tying the cover of the small box, and assumed his usual tranquil and impenetrable expression. It was the heavy tread of Princess Mary that he heard.
The day following this scene, at the hour the banker usually chose to pay a visit to Madame Danglars on his way to his office, his coupe did not appear. At this time, that is, about half-past twelve, Madame Danglars ordered her carriage, and went out. Danglars, hidden behind a curtain, watched the departure he had been waiting for. He gave orders that he should be informed as soon as Madame Danglars appeared; but at two o'clock she had not returned. He then called for his horses, drove to the Chamber, and inscribed his name to speak against the budget. From twelve to two o'clock Danglars had remained in his study, unsealing his dispatches, and becoming more and more sad every minute, heaping figure upon figure, and receiving, among other visits, one from Major Cavalcanti, who, as stiff and exact as ever, presented himself precisely at the hour named the night before, to terminate his business with the banker. On leaving the Chamber, Danglars, who had shown violent marks of agitation during the sitting, and been more bitter than ever against the ministry, re-entered his carriage, and told the coachman to drive to the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, No. 30.
These materials are mixed in the proportion of about 3:1 by weight so that the dried mixture contains approximately 75% of calcium carbonate, the balance being clay. The mixing may be effected in several ways. The method once exclusively used consists in mixing the raw materials with a large quantity of water in a wash mill, a machine having radial horizontal arms driven from a central vertical spindle and carrying harrows which stir up and intermix any soft material placed in the pit in which the apparatus revolves. The raw materials in the correct proportion are fed into this mill together with a large quantity of water. The thin watery "slip" or slurry flows into large settling tanks ("backs") where the solids in suspension are deposited; the water is drawn off, leaving<b> behind an intimate mixture of chalk and clay in the form of a wet paste. This is dug out, and after being dried on floors heated by flues is ready for burning. This process is now almost obsolete. According to present practice the raw materials are mixed in a wash mill with so much water that the resulting slurry contains 40 to 50% of water. The slurry, which is wet enough to flow, is ground between millstones so as to complete the process of comminution begun in the wash mill. Thorough grinding and mixing are of the utmost importance, as otherwise the cement ultimately produced will be unsound and of inferior quality. The drying of the slurry is generally effected by the waste heat of the kilns, so that while one charge is burning another is drying ready for the next loading of the kilns. The kilns commonly employed are "chamber kilns," circular structures not unlike an ordinary running lime kiln, but having the top closed and connected at the side with a wide flue in which the slurry is exposed to the hot products of combustion from the kiln. The farther ends of the flues of several such kilns are connected with a chimney shaft. The slurry, in drying on the floor of the flue, forms a fairly tough cake which cracks spontaneously in the process of drying into rough blocks suitable for loading into the kiln. At the bottom of the kiln is a grate of iron bars, and on this wood and coke are piled to start the fire. A layer of dried slurry is loaded on this, then a layer of coke, then a layer of slurry, and so on until the kiln is filled with coke and slurry evenly distributed. Fresh slurry is run on to the drying floors, and the kiln is started. The construction of an ordinary chamber kiln may be gathered from the accompanying diagram (fig. l). The operation of burning is a slow one. An ordinary kiln, which will contain about 50 tons of slurry and 12 tons of coke, will take two days to get fairly alight, and will be another two or three days in burning out. Therefore, allowing adequate time for loading and unloading, each kiln will require about one week for a complete run. The output will be about 30 tons of "clinker" ready to be ground into cement. The grinding of the hard rock-like masses of clinker is effected between millstones, or in modern plants in ball-mills, tube-mills and edge-runners. It is an important part of the manufacture, because the finished cement should be as fine and "floury" as possible. The foregoing description represents the procedure in use in many English factories. There are various modifications in practice according to local conditions: a few of these may be described. In all cases, however, the main operations are the same, viz. intimately mixing the raw materials, drying the mixture, if necessary, and burning it at a clinkering temperature (about 1500° C. =2732° F.). Thus when hard limestone is the form of calcium carbonate locally available, it is ground dry and mixed with the correct proportion of clay also dried and ground. The mixture is slightly damped, moulded into rough bricks, dried and burned. A possible alternative is to burn the limestone first and mix the resulting lime with clay, the mixture being burned as before. By this method grinding the hard limestone is avoided, but there is an extra expenditure of fuel in the double burning. Entry: CEMENT
LA TOUR, MAURICE QUENTIN DE (1704-1788), French pastellist, was born at St Quentin on the 5th of September 1704. After leaving Picardy for Paris in 1727 he entered the studio of Spoède--an upright man, but a poor master, rector of the academy of St Luke, who still continued, in the teeth of the Royal Academy, the traditions of the old gild of the master painters of Paris. This possibly contributed to the adoption by La Tour of a line of work foreign to that imposed by an academical training; for pastels, though occasionally used, were not a principal and distinct branch of work until 1720, when Rosalba Carriera brought them into fashion with the Parisian world. In 1737 La Tour exhibited the first of that splendid series of a hundred and fifty portraits which formed the glory of the Salon for the succeeding thirty-seven years. In 1746 he was received into the academy; and in 1751, the following year to that in which he received the title of painter to the king, he was promoted by that body to the grade of councillor. His work had the rare merit of satisfying at once both the taste of his fashionable models and the judgment of his brother artists. His art, consummate of its kind, achieved the task of flattering his sitters, whilst hiding that flattery behind the just and striking likeness which, says Pierre Jean Mariette, he hardly ever missed. His portraits of Rousseau, of Voltaire, of Louis XV., of his queen, of the dauphin and dauphiness, are at once documents and masterpieces unsurpassed except by his life-size portrait of Madame de Pompadour, which, exhibited at the Salon of 1755, became the chief ornament of the cabinet of pastels in the Louvre. The museum of St Quentin also possesses a magnificent collection of works which at his death were in his own hands. La Tour retired to St Quentin at the age of 80, and there he died on the 18th of February 1788. The riches amassed during his long life were freely bestowed by him in great part before his death; he founded prizes at the school of fine arts in Paris and for the town of Amiens, and endowed St Quentin with a great number of useful and charitable institutions. He never married, but lived on terms of warm affection with his brother (who survived him, and left to the town the drawings now in the museum); and his relations to Mlle Marie Fel (1713-1789), the celebrated singer, were distinguished by a strength and depth of feeling not common to the loves of the 18th century. Entry: LA
HEEMSKERK, JOHAN VAN (1597-1656), Dutch poet, was born at Amsterdam in 1597. He was educated as a child at Bayonne, and entered the university of Leiden in 1617. In 1621 he went abroad on the grand tour, leaving<b> behind him his first volume of poems, _Minnekunst_ (The Art of Love), which appeared in 1622. He was absent from Holland four years. He was made master of arts at Bourges in 1623, and in 1624 visited Hugo Grotius in Paris. On his return in 1625 he published _Minnepligt_ (The Duty of Love), and began to practise as an advocate in the Hague. In 1628 he was sent to England in his legal capacity by the Dutch East India Company, to settle the dispute respecting Amboyna. In the same year he published the poem entitled _Minnekunde_, or the Science of Love. He proceeded to Amsterdam in 1640, where he married Alida, sister of the statesman Van Beuningen. In 1641 he published a Dutch version of Corneille's _The Cid_, a tragi-comedy, and in 1647 his most famous work, the pastoral romance of _Batavische Arcadia_, which he had written ten years before. During the last twelve years of his life Heemskerk sat in the upper chamber of the states-general. He died at Amsterdam on the 27th of February 1656. Entry: HEEMSKERK
DRAWING, in art. Although the verb "to draw" has various meanings, the substantive _drawing_ is confined by usage to its artistic sense, delineation or design. The word "draw," from a root common to the Teutonic languages (Goth, _dragan_, O.H.G. _drahan_, Mod. Ger. _tragen_, which all have the sense of "carry," O. Norse _draga_, A.S. _drazan_, _drazen_, "draw," cf. Lat. _trahere_), means to pull or "drag" (a word of the same origin) as distinct from the action of pushing. It is thus used of traction generally, whether by men, animals or machines. The same idea is preserved in "drawing" as applied to the fine arts. We do not usually say, or think, that a sculptor is drawing when he is using his chisel, although he may be expressing or defining forms, nor that an engraver is drawing when he is pushing the burin with the palm of the hand, although the result may be the rendering of a design. But we do say that an artist is drawing when he uses the lead pencil, and here we have a motion bearing some resemblance to that of traction generally. The action of the artist in drawing the pencil point with his fingers along the paper is analogous, e.g., to that of a horse or man drawing a pole over soft ground and leaving a mark behind. The same analogy may be observed between two of the senses in which the French verb _tirer_ is frequently employed. This word, the origin of which is quite uncertain, was formerly used by good writers in the two senses of the verb to draw. Thus Lafontaine says, "Six forts chevaux _tiraient_ un coche"; and Caillières wrote, "Il n'y a pas longtemps que je me suis fait _tirer_ par Rigaud," meaning that Rigaud had drawn or painted his portrait. At the present day the verb _tirer_ has fallen into disuse amongst cultivated Frenchmen with regard to drawing and painting, but it is still universally used for all kinds of design and even for photography by the common people. The cultivated use it still for printing, as for example "cette gravure sera tirée à cent exemplaires," in the sense of pulling. A verb much more nearly related to the English verb _to draw_ is the French _traire_ (Lat. _trahere_), which has _trait_ for its past participle. _Traire_ is now used exclusively for milking cows and other animals, and though the analogy between this and artistic drawing is not obvious at first, nevertheless there is a certain analogy of motion, since the hand passing down the teat draws the milk downwards. The word _trait_ is much more familiar in connexion with art as "les traits du visage," the natural markings of the face, and it is very often used in a figurative sense, as we say "traits of character." It is familiar in the English _portrait_, derived from _protrahere_. The ancient Romans used words which expressed more clearly the conception that drawing was done in line (_delineare_) or in shade (_adumbrare_), though there are reasons for believing that the words were often indiscriminately applied. Although the modern Italians have both _traire_ and _trarre_, they use _delineare_ still in the sense of artistic drawing, and also _adombrare_. The Greek verb [Greek: graphein] appears in English in "graphic" and in many compounds, such as photograph, &c. It is worth observing that the Greeks seem to have considered drawing and writing (q.v.) as essentially the same process, since they used the same word for both. This points to the early identity of the two arts when drawing was a kind of writing, and when such writing as men had learned to practise was essentially what we should call drawing, though of a rude and simple kind. Even in the present day picture writing is not unfrequently resorted to by travellers as a means of making themselves intelligible. There is also a kind of art which is writing in the modern sense and drawing at the same time, such as the work of the medieval illuminators in their manuscripts. (X.) Entry: DRAWING
_Cold Gilding._--In this process the gold is obtained in a state of extremely fine division, and applied by mechanical means. Cold gilding on silver is performed by a solution of gold in aqua-regia, applied by dipping a linen rag into the solution, burning it, and rubbing the black and heavy ashes on the silver with the finger or a piece of leather or cork. _Wet gilding_ is effected by means of a dilute solution of chloride of gold with twice its quantity of ether. The liquids are agitated and allowed to rest, when the ether separates and floats on the surface of the acid. The whole mixture is then poured into a funnel with a small aperture, and allowed to rest for some time, when the acid is run off and the ether separated. The ether will be found to have taken up all the gold from the acid, and may be used for gilding iron or steel, for which purpose the metal is polished with the finest emery and spirits of wine. The ether is then applied with a small brush, and as it evaporates it deposits the gold, which can now be heated and polished. For small delicate figures a pen or a fine brush may be used for laying on the ether solution. _Fire-gilding_ or _Wash-gilding_ is a process by which an amalgam of gold is applied to metallic surfaces, the mercury being subsequently volatilized, leaving a film of gold or an amalgam containing from 13 to 16% of mercury. In the preparation of the amalgam the gold must first be reduced to thin plates or grains, which are heated red hot, and thrown into mercury previously heated, till it begins to smoke. Upon stirring the mercury with an iron rod, the gold totally disappears. The proportion of mercury to gold is generally as six or eight to one. When the amalgam is cold it is squeezed through chamois leather for the purpose of separating the superfluous mercury; the gold, with about twice its weight of mercury, remains behind, forming a yellowish silvery mass of the consistence of butter. When the metal to be gilt is wrought or chased, it ought to be covered with mercury before the amalgam is applied, that this may be more easily spread; but when the surface of the metal is plain, the amalgam may be applied to it direct. When no such preparation is applied, the surface to be gilded is simply bitten and cleaned with nitric acid. A deposit of mercury is obtained on a metallic surface by means of "quicksilver water," a solution of nitrate of mercury,--the nitric acid attacking the metal to which it is applied, and thus leaving a film of free metallic mercury. The amalgam being equally spread over the prepared surface of the metal, the mercury is then sublimed by a heat just sufficient for that purpose; for, if it is too great, part of the gold may be driven off, or it may run together and leave some of the surface of the metal bare. When the mercury has evaporated, which is known by the surface having entirely become of a dull yellow colour, the metal must undergo other operations, by which the fine gold colour is given to it. First, the gilded surface is rubbed with a scratch brush of brass wire, until its surface be smooth; then it is covered over with a composition called "gilding wax," and again exposed to the fire until the wax is burnt off. This wax is composed of beeswax mixed with some of the following substances, viz. red ochre, verdigris, copper scales, alum, vitriol, borax. By this operation the colour of the gilding is heightened; and the effect seems to be produced by a perfect dissipation of some mercury remaining after the former operation. The dissipation is well effected by this equable application of heat. The gilt surface is then covered over with nitre, alum or other salts, ground together, and mixed up into a paste with water or weak ammonia. The piece of metal thus covered is exposed to a certain degree of heat, and then quenched in water. By this method its colour is further improved and brought nearer to that of gold, probably by removing any particles of copper that may have been on the gilt surface. This process, when skilfully carried out, produces gilding of great solidity and beauty; but owing to the exposure of the workmen to mercurial fumes, it is very unhealthy, and further there is much loss of mercury. Numerous contrivances have been introduced to obviate these serious evils. Gilt brass buttons used for uniforms are gilt by this process, and there is an act of parliament (1796) yet unrepealed which prescribes 5 grains of gold as the smallest quantity that may be used for the gilding of 12 dozen of buttons 1 in. in diameter. Entry: GILDING
The practice in the British army of leaving the colours behind on taking the field dates from the battle of Isandhlwana (22nd January 1879), in which Lieutenants Melvill and Coghill lost their lives in endeavouring to save the colours of the 24th regiment. In savage warfare, in which the British regular army is more usually engaged, it is true that no particular reason can be adduced for imperilling the colours in the field. It is questionable, however, whether this holds good in civilized warfare. Colours were carried in action by both the Russians and the Japanese in the war of 1904-5, and they were supplemented on both sides by smaller flags or camp colours. The conception of the colour as the emblem of union, the rallying-point, of the regiment has been mentioned above. Many hold that such a rallying-point is more than ever required in the modern _guerre de masses_, when a national short-service army is collected in all possible strength on the decisive battle-field, and that scarcely any risks or loss of life would be disproportionate to the advantages gained by the presence of the colours. There is further a most important factor in the problem, which has only arisen in recent years through modern perfection in armament. In the first stages of an attack, the colours could remain, as in the past, with the closed reserves or line of battle, and they would not be uncased and sent into the thick of the fight at all hazards until the decisive assault was being delivered. Then, it is absolutely essential, as a matter of tactics, that the artillery (q.v.), which covers the assault with all the power given it by modern science and training, should be well informed as to the progress of the infantry. This covering fire was maintained by the Japanese until the infantry was actually in the smoke of their own shrapnel. With uniforms of neutral tint the need of some means whereby the artillery officers can, at 4000 yds. range, distinguish their own infantry from that of the enemy, is more pronounced than ever. The best troops are apt to be unsteadied by being fired into by their own guns (e.g. at Elandslaagte), and the more powerful the shell, and the more rapid and far-ranging the fire of the guns, the more necessary it becomes to prevent such accidents. A practicable solution of the difficulty would be to display the colours as of old, and this course would not only have to an enhanced degree the advantages it formerly possessed, but would also provide the simplest means for ensuring the vitally necessary co-operation of infantry and artillery in the decisive assault. The duty of carrying the colours was always one of special danger, and sometimes, in the old short-range battles, every officer who carried a flag was shot. That this fate would necessarily overtake the bearer under modern conditions is far from certain, and in any case the few men on the enemy's side who would be brave enough to shoot accurately under heavy shell fire would, however destructive to the colour party, scarcely inflict as much damage on the battalion as a whole, as a dozen or more accidental shells from the massed artillery of its own side. Entry: COLOURS