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FDA Approves Pfizer's Biosimilar to Amgen's Epogen
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approved Pfizer's Retacrit (epoetin alfa-epbx), a biosimilar to Amgen's Epogen/Procrit (epoetin alfa). The drugs treat anemia caused by chronic kidney disease, chemotherapy, or use of zidovudine in HIV patients. Retacrit has also been approved to cut the risk of red blood cell transfusions before or after surgery due to blood loss during surgery.
Biosimilars are like generic drugs, only for biological products. The key difference between a biosimilar and a generic is that a generic is an exact copycat of a branded drug. A biosimilar is "similar" to a biologic, which means it must undergo clinical trials and regulatory review like that of a new drug.
Pfizer's Retracrit will be manufactured and marketed under Pfizer's Hospira division. It has already been approved in the European Union.
Retacrit is the tenth biosimilar to be approved in the U.S. However, of the previous nine, only three are on the market because of barriers thrown up by the biopharma industry.
"It is important for patients to have access to safe, effective and affordable biological products and we are committed to facilitating the development and approval of biosimilar and interchangeable products," Leah Christi, director of the Therapeutic Biologics and Biosimilars Staff in the FDA's Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, said in a statement. "Biosimilars can provide greater access to treatment options for patients, increasing competition and potentially lowering costs."
As with Epogen/Procrit, Retacrit requires it be dispensed with a patient Medication Guide providing information about its risk and usage. And like Epogen/Procrit, it will require a Boxed Warning to let health care professionals and patients know about the serious side effects of the drug, including increased risks of death, heart problems, stroke and tumor growth or recurrence. It also has additional warnings about high blood pressure, seizures, serious allergic reactions, severe skin reactions, and a condition where the bone marrow stops producing red blood cells resulting in anemia.
The Center for Biosimilars notes, "Today's approval is a notable win for Pfizer, which received a Complete Response Letter (CRL) for the drug in 2017 on the basis of agency concerns about the company's manufacturing plant, despite an earlier recommendation of approval from the Oncologic Drugs Advisory Committee. While Pfizer received an FDA warning letter concerning the plant, the company underscored the fact that the issues did not pertain specifically to the epoetin alfa product, and no additional clinical data were requested in the CRL."
On April 23, Pfizer reported it had received a CRL from the FDA over its Biologics License Application (BLA) for its biosimilar to Genentech's Herceptin (trastuzumab). The FDA called for more technical information, but it was not related to safety or clinical data.
The U.S. lags behind Europe in biosimilars, which began approving them in 2006. The U.S. only began approving biosimilars in 2015. A report by the IMS Institute, funded by Novartis, projected that without biosimilar competition, a total of $225 billion would be spent on eight top-selling biologics in the U.S. and five European countries, Germany, France, Italy, Spain and the UK, between 2016 and 2020. Those eight biologics are losing patent protection and the IMS calculated that the cumulative savings from biosimilar competition from 2015 to 2020 could range from $45 billion to $90 billion.
Christine Simmons, executive director of the Biosimilars Council, a division of the Association for Accessible Medicines, writing for STAT, said, "As of April 1 of this year, the FDA had 63 'programs' or applications for biosimilar review, representing competition for 31 brand-name biologics (also known as a reference product). These biosimilars, if approved, will improve patient access to very expensive treatments for complex conditions at lower costs. Biosimilars provide competition to costly biologic medicine that are used by less than 2 percent of Americans but that account for more than 26 percent of drug spending."


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Published on Mar 3, 2016
John Von Rhein of the Chicago Tribune gave accolades to ensemble-in-residence Contempo for their gripping presentation of new European music in their recent "Focus on Europe" concert in the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts.
Among others, the event featured "Mosaics" (2012), a piece composed by Contempo Artistic Director and Helen B. and Frank L. Sulzberger Professor of Composition Marta Ptaszynska. The piece was dedicated to and performed by Pacifica Quartet, part of Contempo's new music collective.
Read the full Tribune article here.

subset: commoncrawl


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Website Setup
Businesses and organizations in Seward County are invited to store their web pages on the Connect Seward County server at no charge.
- Decide if you will create your own website or hire a web designer to create your pages for you. If you choose to work with a web designer they will help you with the following steps.
- Make sure that you and your web designer each have individual accounts with Connect Seward County. If not, fill out the form by clicking on the Account Sign Up link.
- Complete and turn in the Website Authorization Form (click here). This will authorize you and/or your web designer to make changes. It also protects your site from unauthorized access.
After following the steps above, you can choose one of the following methods to proceed:
Use WordPress to build the website
- Click on the My Website – WordPress link and log in with your account information.
- Use the dashboard to choose a theme, add pages or posts, etc.
- For additional information about building your website with WordPress please see the FAQ. There are also several online resources and tutorials available by searching.
Create your own HTML pages for the website
- Access to upload web pages will be given to you and your web designer. You can use the My Website-FTP link to upload files into your directory or you can use your own ftp program.
- In exchange for free website hosting on the Connect Seward County server, please add the Connect Seward County logo and link to your website. Copy the HTML code below the logo and paste it into the code on your web page.


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FROM Berlin to Cuba, tag along with us as we spray the town red ... and yellow, purple and turquoise, in the hunt for the world's most incredible street art.
Here are 10 places you just have to head to if you're a fan.
1. Bristol, UK
Banksy's backyard, this old port city has a reputation for emerging music, gastronomy and alternative night-life. Or you could just find a sunny beer garden and sink a pint of the West County's traditional tipple, cider!
2. Havana, Cuba (pictured above)
The iconic image of Che Guevara looms large in Revolution Square, but you'll find his familiar face in murals across Havana. Get behind the wheel of a vintage American car and take a tour of the colonial palaces and Communist-era ration shops.
Here are some more stunning examples of street art in Havana:
3. Penang, Malaysia
The 'Silicon Valley' of Asia, Penang is one of Malaysia's best-kept secrets. Connected to the mainland off the northern coast of Malaysia, you'll find plenty of boutique guesthouses and artisan workshops on the island.
4. Berlin, Germany
There is no need to set foot inside a museum here to sample Berlin's vibrant culture and poignant history. The Berlin Wall East Side Gallery stands as an urban canvas; take a stroll along the 1.3km section and round things off with a chilled beer on the banks of the River Spree.
5. Granada, Spain
The magic of Spain's Sierra Nevada is not the only thing to get tourists flocking to Andalusia's trendiest city. Free tapas with every drinks order and a spot of pampering in the Arab baths might have something to do with it.
6. Lisbon, Portugal
This beautiful city sprawls across some pretty steep hills. If traversing the cobbles all day seem like hard work, why not let the canary-yellow tram carry you to the top for views over the River Tagus?
7. Paris, France
Desperate to see some Degas? Or swoon over the Mona Lisa? Head to Paris, bursting at the seams with exhibitions and galleries. And street art. Grab a croissant and head out early to avoid the queues.
8. Los Angeles, US
Join the throng of dreamers and trendsetters along Hollywood Boulevard, or watch the beautiful people parade on Venice Boardwalk. Whatever you choose, you'll never be lost for entertainment in sunny Los Angeles!
9. Moscow, Russia
Don't let visa requirements put you off visiting this Soviet capital. From the brightly coloured domes of St. Basil's Cathedral to the gleaming golden spires of the Kremlin, there's enough beauty (and borscht) to satisfy any culture vulture.
10. Oslo, Norway
Home to Edvard Munch's famous painting, 'The Scream', Oslo should be on any art lovers' hit list. For a touch of fresh air, head out of the city and embark on a hiking adventure around the fjords.
Read more travel advice from leading travel search site, Skyscanner.


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EDIT: This is no longer available.
Crest must really think we have some brown teeth, because they're offering yet another way to get a free Crest Advanced Seal Whitestrips sample. All you have to do is text CREST to 467-467, which is ShopText, a site we've written a little about before. I haven't gotten anything for free from them yet, but it's only been a week or two, so fingers crossed.


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App Store Optimization: How to Use Organic Search to Increase Keyword Rankings for Your Apps
Steve Young, App Marketing Growth Hacker & Hustler
- 0.5x
- 1x (Normal)
- 1.25x
- 1.5x
- 2x
1. Intro1:46
2. Project Overview0:45
3. What is ASO?1:42
4. ASO Factors2:51
5. ASO Strategies1:26
6. Difference between Google Play and Apple2:13
7. Tools to Generate Keywords10:56
8. Keyword Research8:51
9. Naming Your App and Keyword7:36
10. Final Thoughts1:23
About This Class
You will discover how to organically increase your app's exposure and downloads through App Store Optimization (ASO). I will reveal the exact strategy that I used to increase downloads for my paid app by 233% and how I've helped clients rank #1 for their most desired keywords.
ASO, also known as SEO for apps, is the process of improving the visibility of a mobile app in a given app store.
You will discover what elements of your app will help you increase its visibility in the app stores. Plus, I will reveal the exact process and tools that I use to do research and find relevant keywords that have low competition.
The goal of ASO is to drive more traffic to your app's page in the app store, so searchers can take a specific action: downloading your app.
Whether you are a beginner or an experience app marketer, after the course, you will be equipped with all the knowledge to optimize your app and increase its visibility and downloads.
Class Projects See All
- --
- Beginner
- Intermediate
- Advanced
- All Levels
- Beg/Int
- Int/Adv
Community Generated
The level is determined by a majority opinion of students who have reviewed this class. The teacher's recommendation is shown until at least 5 student responses are collected.
I started building apps in 2011 and my first app hit #8 under educational games. I started making a few hundred dollars a month, but had no idea what I was doing. Then in 2013 I decided to start a podcast so I could pick the brains of app creators that I admired including the co-founder of Shazam, Tapbots, Crossy Road, etc and that changed everything.
Now I run an app PR agency, Runway.bz, where we've helped clients get featured by Apple, hit the #2 paid app overall, and get coverage o...


text:
GLYDE Ultra Premium Lubricated Condoms
- You'll earn $1.20 in Undercover Rewards
- Shipping Class Size: Small
100% Vegan, GLYDE condoms use a top quality thistle extract and do not involve animal testing. All latex condoms are based on natural latex from rubber trees. GLYDE condoms have superior quality, strength, and reliability.
- Ultra Premium Lubricated Condoms provide simple, standard size & comfort at 53 mm
- 100% Vegan certified (no animal products or testing, ever!)
- Natural rubber latex
- Designed for maximum comfort
- Especially strong & sheer
- Exceed FDA standards for strength and duribility
- Item #: 5110
- Brand: GLYDE
- Lubricated: True
- Packaging: Hand Packaged
- Reservoir Tip: True
- Rounded Tip: True
- Spermicidal: False


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Let $B$ denote the open unit ball in $\mathbb{R}^3$. I want to either prove or disprove that a sequence of functions $u_m$ in the Sobolev space $W^{1,2}(B)$ which is uniformly bounded in the $W^{1,2}(B)$ norm and which is convergent in $L^p(B)$ for all $1 \leq p < 6$ must be convergent in $L^6(B)$.
Can someone please point me in the right direction?
I know (cf. Chapter 5 of Evans PDE book) that the bound $$ \| u \|_{L^q(U)} \leq C(k,p,n,U) \| u \|_{W^{k,p}(U)} $$ holds when $U$ is a subset of $\mathbb{R}^n$ having smooth boundary, $u \in W^{k,p}$, $k < \frac{n}{p}$, and $\frac{1}{q} = \frac{1}{p} - \frac{k}{n}$. The constant $C = C(k,p,n,U)$ is independent of $u$.
It follows from this bound that the $u_m$ are uniformly bounded in $L^6(B)$.
Since $W^{1,2}(B)$ is a Hilbert Space, uniform boundedness of $u_m$ in $W^{1,2}(B)$ also implies existence of a subsequence $u_{m_j}$ that converges weakly in $W^{1,2}(B)$, hence weakly in $L^6(B)$.


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Kiddie Academy of Arlington Heights
- Child Care - Professional Services
We are an Educational Childcare Preschool, which meets and exceeds Illinois State Preschool Standards. Our Arlington Heights, IL daycare curriculum includes age appropriate programs for each level of care we provide. Our approach and center focus encompasses Early Childhood Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics. In addition to caring for preschool aged children, infant and toddler daycare is available at the Arlington Heights, IL Kiddie Academy. We even have programs to accommodate Pre-K and school aged children.


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We can use the credentials obtained in the previous post to access Level 2. Once we log in, we are presented with the following screen:
As we did in the previous levels, we can start by viewing the source of the page, seen below:
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="http://www.overthewire.org/wargames/natas/level.css">

There is nothing on this page

We can see an image embedded into the page, and upon further inspection, the image appears to be 1x1 pixels. At first I thought the challenge was more difficult than it really was, because I started looking to see if the password was embedded in the image. However, when this didn't work, I thought to check and see if the 'files' directory was listable. Sure enough, when we browse to http://natas2.natas.labs.overthewire.org/files/, we see the following:
Here we can see both our 'pixel.png' picture, as well as a text file called 'users.txt', which contains the following:
# username:password alice:BYNdCesZqW bob:jw2ueICLvT charlie:G5vCxkVV3m
eve:zo4mJWyNj2 mallory:9urtcpzBmH
In this file, we can see the password for natas3, which we can use to log in to the next challenge.
Moving right along. More writeups to come.


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"The Diamond Lens"
© 1858
Fitz-James O'Brien
FROM a very early period of my life the entire bent of my inclinations had been toward microscopic investigations. When I was not more than ten years old, a distant relative of our family, hoping to astonish my inexperience, constructed a simple microscope for me by drilling in a disk of copper a small hole in which a drop of pure water was sustained by capillary attraction. This very primitive apparatus, magnifying some fifty diameters, presented, it is true, only indistinct and imperfect forms, but still sufficiently wonderful to work up my imagination to a preternatural state of excitement.
Seeing me so interested in this rude instrument, my cousin explained to me all that he knew about the principles of the microscope, related to me a few of the wonders which had been accomplished through its agency, and ended by promising to send me one regularly constructed, immediately on his return to the city. I counted the days, the hours, the minutes that intervened between that promise and his departure.
Meantime, I was not idle. Every transparent substance that bore the remotest resemblance to a lens I eagerly seized upon, and employed in vain attempts to realize that instrument the theory of whose construction I as yet only vaguely comprehended. All panes of glass containing those oblate spheroidal knots familiarly known as "bull's-eyes" were ruthlessly destroyed in the hope of obtaining lenses of marvelous power. I even went so far as to extract the crystalline humor from the eyes of fishes and animals, and endeavored to press it into the microscopic service. I plead guilty to having stolen the glasses from my Aunt Agatha's spectacles, with a dim idea of grinding them into lenses of wondrous magnifying properties—in which attempt it is scarcely necessary to say that I totally failed.
At last the promised instrument came. It was of that order known as Field's simple microscope, and had cost perhaps about fifteen dollars. As far as educational purposes went, a better apparatus could not have been selected. Accompanying it was a small treatise on the microscope—its history, uses, and discoveries. I comprehended then for the first time the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments." The dull veil of ordinary existence that hung across the world seemed suddenly to roll away, and to lay bare a land of enchantments. I felt toward my companions as the seer might feel toward the ordinary masses of men. I held conversations with nature in a tongue which they could not understand. I was in daily communication with living wonders such as they never imagined in their wildest visions, I penetrated beyond the external portal of things, and roamed through the sanctuaries. Where they beheld only a drop of rain slowly rolling down the window-glass, I saw a universe of beings animated with all the passions common to physical life, and convulsing their minute sphere with struggles as fierce and protracted as those of men. In the common spots of mould, which my mother, good housekeeper that she was, fiercely scooped away from her jam-pots, there abode for me, under the name of mildew, enchanted gardens, filled with dells and avenues of the densest foliage and most astonishing verdure, while from the fantastic boughs of these microscopic forests hung strange fruits glittering with green and silver and gold.
It was no scientific thirst that at this time filled my mind. It was the pure enjoyment of a poet to whom a world of wonders has been disclosed. I talked of my solitary pleasures to none. Alone with my microscope, I dimmed my sight, day after day and night after night, poring over the marvels which it unfolded to me. I was like one who, having discovered the ancient Eden still existing in all its primitive glory, should resolve to enjoy it in solitude, and never betray to mortal the secret of its locality. The rod of my life was bent at this moment. I destined myself to be a microscopist.
Of course, like every novice, I fancied myself a discoverer. I was ignorant at the time of the thousands of acute intellects engaged in the same pursuit as myself, and with the advantage of instruments a thousand times more powerful than mine. The names of Leeuwenhoek, Williamson, Spencer, Ehrenberg, Schultz, Dujardin, Schact, and Schleiden were then entirely unknown to me, or, if known, I was ignorant of their patient and wonderful researches. In every fresh specimen of cryptogamia which I placed beneath my instrument I believed that I discovered wonders of which the world was as yet ignorant. I remember well the thrill of delight and admiration that shot through me the first time that I discovered the common wheel animalcule (Rotifera vulgaris) expanding and contracting its flexible spokes and seemingly rotating through the water. Alas! as I grew older, and obtained some works treating of my favorite study, I found that I was only on the threshold of a science to the investigation of which some of the greatest men of the age were devoting their lives and intellects.
As I grew up, my parents, who saw but little likelihood of anything practical resulting from the examination of bits of moss and drops of water through a brass tube and a piece of glass, were anxious that I should choose a profession.
It was their desire that I should enter the counting-house of my uncle, Ethan Blake, a prosperous merchant, who carried on business in New York. This suggestion I decisively combated. I had no taste for trade; I should only make a failure; in short, I refused to become a merchant.
But it was necessary for me to select some pursuit. My parents were staid New England people, who insisted on the necessity of labor, and therefore, although, thanks to the bequest of my poor Aunt Agatha, I should, on coming of age, inherit a small fortune sufficient to place me above want, it was decided that, instead of waiting for this, I should act the nobler part, and employ the intervening years in rendering myself independent.
After much cogitation, I complied with the wishes of my family, and selected a profession. I determined to study medicine at the New York Academy. This disposition of my future suited me. A removal from my relatives would enable me to dispose of my time as I pleased without fear of detection. As long as I paid my Academy fees, I might shirk attending the lectures if I chose; and, as I never had the remotest intention of standing an examination, there was no danger of my being "plucked." Besides, a metropolis was the place for me. There I could obtain excellent instruments, the newest publications, intimacy with men of pursuits kindred with my own—in short, all things necessary to ensure a profitable devotion of my life to my beloved science. I had an abundance of money, few desires that were not bounded by my illuminating mirror on one side and my object-glass on the other; what, therefore, was to prevent my becoming an illustrious investigator of the veiled worlds? It was with the most buoyant hope that I left my New England home and established myself in New York.
My first step, of course, was to find suitable apartments. These I obtained, after a couple of days' search, in Fourth Avenue; a very pretty second floor, unfurnished, containing sitting-room, bedroom, and a smaller apartment which I intended to fit up as a laboratory. I furnished my lodgings simply, but rather elegantly, and then devoted all my energies to the adornment of the temple of my worship. I visited Pike, the celebrated optician, and passed in review his splendid collection of microscopes—Field's Compound, Hingham's, Spencer's, Nachet's Binocular (that founded on the principles of the stereoscope), and at length fixed upon that form known as Spencer's Trunnion Microscope, as combining the greatest number of improvements with an almost perfect freedom from tremor. Along with this I purchased every possible accessory—draw-tubes, micrometers, a camera lucida, lever-stage, achromatic condensers, white cloud illuminators, prisms, parabolic condensers, polarizing apparatus, forceps, aquatic boxes, fishing-tubes, with a host of other articles, all of which would have been useful in the hands of an experienced microscopist, but, as I afterward discovered, were not of the slightest present value to me. It takes years of practice to know how to use a complicated microscope. The optician looked suspiciously at me as I made these valuable purchases. He evidently was uncertain whether to set me down as some scientific celebrity or a madman. I think he was inclined to the latter belief. I suppose I was mad. Every great genius is mad upon the subject in which he is greatest. The unsuccessful madman is disgraced and called a lunatic.
Mad or not, I set myself to work with a zeal which few scientific students have ever equaled. I had everything to learn relative to the delicate study upon which I had embarked—a study involving the most earnest patience, the most rigid analytic powers, the steadiest hand, the most untiring eye, the most refined and subtle manipulation.
For a long time half my apparatus lay inactively on the shelves of my laboratory, which was now most amply furnished with every possible contrivance for facilitating my investigations. The fact was that I did not know how to use some of my scientific implements—never having been taught microscopies—and those whose use I understood theoretically were of little avail until by practice I could attain the necessary delicacy of handling. Still, such was the fury of my ambition, such the untiring perseverance of my experiments, that, difficult of credit as it may be, in the course of one year I became theoretically and practically an accomplished microscopist.
During this period of my labors, in which I submitted specimens of every substance that came under my observation to the action of my lenses, I became a discoverer—in a small way, it is true, for I was very young, but still a discoverer. It was I who destroyed Ehrenberg's theory that the Volvox globator was an animal, and proved that his "monads" with stomachs and eyes were merely phases of the formation of a vegetable cell, and were, when they reached their mature state, incapable of the act of conjugation, or any true generative act, without which no organism rising to any stage of life higher than vegetable can be said to be complete. It was I who resolved the singular problem of rotation in the cells and hairs of plants into ciliary attraction, in spite of the assertions of Wenham and others that my explanation was the result of an optical illusion.
But notwithstanding these discoveries, laboriously and painfully made as they were, I felt horribly dissatisfied. At every step I found myself stopped by the imperfections of my instruments. Like all active microscopists, I gave my imagination full play. Indeed, it is a common complaint against many such that they supply the defects of their instruments with the creations of their brains. I imagined depths beyond depths in nature which the limited power of my lenses prohibited me from exploring. I lay awake at night constructing imaginary micro-scopes of immeasurable power, with which I seemed to pierce through all the envelopes of matter down to its original atom. How I cursed those imperfect mediums which necessity through ignorance compelled me to use! How I longed to discover the secret of some perfect lens, whose magnifying power should be limited only by the resolvability of the object, and which at the same time should be free from spherical and chromatic aberrations—in short, from all the obstacles over which the poor microscopist finds himself continually stumbling! I felt convinced that the simple microscope, composed of a single lens of such vast yet perfect power, was possible of construction. To attempt to bring the compound microscope up to such a pitch would have been commencing at the wrong end; this latter being simply a partially successful endeavor to remedy those very defects of the simplest instrument which, if conquered, would leave nothing to be desired.
It was in this mood of mind that I became a constructive microscopist. After another year passed in this new pursuit, experimenting on every imaginable substance—glass, gems, flints, crystals, artificial crystals formed of the alloy of various vitreous materials—in short, having constructed as many varieties of lenses as Argus had eyes—I found myself precisely where I started, with nothing gained save an extensive knowledge of glass-making. I was almost dead with despair. My parents were surprised at my apparent want of progress in my medical studies (I had not attended one lecture since my arrival in the city), and the expenses of my mad pursuit had been so great as to embarrass me very seriously.
I was in this frame of mind one day, experimenting in my laboratory on a small diamond—that stone, from its great refracting power, having always occupied my attention more than any other—when a young Frenchman who lived on the floor above me, and who was in the habit of occasionally visiting me, entered the room.
I think that Jules Simon was a Jew. He had many traits of the Hebrew character: a love of jewelry, of dress, and of good living. There was something mysterious about him. He always had something to sell, and yet went into excellent society. When I say sell, I should perhaps have said peddle; for his operations were generally confined to the disposal of single articles—a picture, for instance, or a rare carving in ivory, or a pair of duelling-pistols, or the dress of a Mexican caballero. When I was first furnishing my rooms, he paid me a visit, which ended in my purchasing an antique silver lamp, which he assured me was a Cellini—it was handsome enough even for that—and some other knick-knacks for my sitting-room. Why Simon should pursue this petty trade I never could imagine. He apparently had plenty of money, and had the entre of the best houses in the city—taking care, however, I suppose, to drive no bargains within the enchanted circle of the Upper Ten. I came at length to the conclusion that this peddling was but a mask to cover some greater object, and even went so far as to believe my young acquaintance to be implicated in the slave-trade. That, however, was none of my affair.
On the present occasion, Simon entered my room in a state of considerable excitement.
"Ah! mon ami!" he cried, before I could even offer him the ordinary salutation, "it has occurred to me to be the witness of the most astonishing things in the world. I promenade myself to the house of Madame ———. How does the little animal—le renard—name himself in the Latin?"
"Vulpes," I answered.
"Ah! yes—Vulpes. I promenade myself to the house of Madame Vulpes."
"The spirit medium?"
"Yes, the great medium. Great heavens! what a woman! I write on a slip of paper many of questions concerning affairs of the most secret—affairs that conceal themselves in the abysses of my heart the most profound; and behold, by example, what occurs? This devil of a woman makes me replies the most truthful to all of them. She talks to me of things that I do not love to talk of to myself. What am I to think? I am fixed to the earth!"
"Am I to understand you, M. Simon, that this Mrs. Vulpes replied to questions secretly written by you, which questions related to events known only to yourself?"
"Ah! more than that, more than that," he answered, with an air of some alarm. "She related to me things—But," he added after a pause, and suddenly changing his manner, "why occupy ourselves with these follies? It was all the biology, without doubt. It goes without saying that it has not my credence. But why are we here, mon ami? It has occurred to me to discover the most beautiful thing as you can imagine—a vase with green lizards on it, composed by the great Bernard Palissy. It is in my apartment; let us mount. I go to show it to you."
I followed Simon mechanically; but my thoughts were far from Palissy and his enameled ware, although I, like him, was seeking in the dark a great discovery. This casual mention of the spiritualist, Madame Vulpes, set me on a new track. What if, through communication with more subtle organisms than my own, I could reach at a single bound the goal which perhaps a life, of agonizing mental toil would never enable me to attain?
While purchasing the Palissy vase from my friend Simon, I was mentally arranging a visit to Madame Vulpes.
Two evenings after this, thanks to an arrangement by letter and the promise of an ample fee, I found Madame Vulpes awaiting me at her residence alone. She was a coarse-featured woman, with keen and rather cruel dark eyes, and an exceedingly sensual expression about her mouth and under jaw. She received me in perfect silence, in an apartment on the ground floor, very sparsely furnished. In the centre of the room, close to where Mrs. Vulpes sat, there was a common round mahogany table. If I had come for the purpose of sweeping her chimney, the woman could not have looked more indifferent to my appearance. There was no attempt to inspire the visitor with awe. Everything bore a simple and practical aspect. This intercourse with the spiritual world was evidently as familiar an occupation with Mrs. Vulpes as eating her dinner or riding in an omnibus.
"You come for a communication, Mr. Linley?" said the medium, in a dry, businesslike tone of voice.
"By appointment—yes."
"What sort of communication do you want—a written one?"
"Yes, I wish for a written one."
"From any particular spirit?"
"Have you ever known this spirit on this earth?"
"Never. He died long before I was born. I wish merely to obtain from him some information which he ought to be able to give better than any other."
"Will you seat yourself at the table, Mr. Lin-ley," said the medium, "and place your hands upon it?"
I obeyed, Mrs. Vulpes being seated opposite to me, with her hands also on the table. We remained thus for about a minute and a half, when a violent succession of raps came on the table, on the back of my chair, on the floor immediately under my feet, and even on the window-panes. Mrs. Vulpes smiled composedly.
"They are very strong to-night," she remarked. "You are fortunate." She then continued, "Will the spirits communicate with this gentleman?"
Vigorous affirmative.
"Will the particular spirit he desires to speak with communicate?"
A very confused rapping followed this question.
"I know what they mean," said Mrs. Vulpes, addressing herself to me; "they wish you to write down the name of the particular spirit that you desire to converse with. Is that so?" she added, speaking to her invisible guests.
That it was so was evident from the numerous affirmatory responses. While this was going on, I tore a slip from my pocket-book and scribbled a name under the table.
"Will this spirit communicate in writing with this gentleman?" asked the medium once more.
After a moment's pause, her hand seemed to be seized with a violent tremor, shaking so forcibly that the table vibrated. She said that a spirit had seized her hand and would write. I handed her some sheets of paper that were on the table and a pencil. The latter she held loosely in her hand, which presently began to move over the paper with a singular and seemingly involuntary motion. After a few moments had elapsed, she handed me the paper, on which I found written, in a large, uncultivated hand, the words, "He is not here, but has been sent for." A pause of a minute or so ensued, during which Mrs. Vulpes remained perfectly silent, but the raps continued at regular intervals. When the short period I mention had elapsed, the hand of the medium was again seized with its convulsive tremor, and she wrote, under this strange influence, a few words on the paper, which she handed to me. They were as follows:
"I am here. Question me.
I was astounded. The name was identical with that I had written beneath the table, and carefully kept concealed. Neither was it at all probable that an uncultivated woman like Mrs. Vulpes should know even the name of the great father of microscopies. It may have been biology; but this theory was soon doomed to be destroyed. I wrote on my slip—still concealing it from Mrs. Vulpes—a series of questions which, to avoid tediousness, I shall place with the responses, in the order in which they occurred:
I.—Can the microscope be brought to perfection?
I.—Am I destined to accomplish this great task?
Spirit.—You are.
I.—I wish to know how to proceed to attain this end. For the love which you bear to science, help me!
Spirit—A diamond of one hundred and forty carats, submitted to electro-magnetic currents for a long period, will experience a rearrangement of its atoms inter se and from that stone you will form the universal lens.
I.—Will great discoveries result from the use of such a lens?
Spirit—So great that all that has gone before is as nothing.
I.—But the refractive power of the diamond is so immense that the image will be formed within the lens. How is that difficulty to be surmounted?
Spirit—Pierce the lens through its axis, and the difficulty is obviated. The image will be formed in the pierced space, which will itself serve as a tube to look through. Now I am called. Good-night.
I can not at all describe the effect that these extraordinary communications had upon me. I felt completely bewildered. No biological theory could account for the discovery of the lens. The medium might, by means of biological rapport with my mind, have gone so far as to read my questions and reply to them coherently. But biology could not enable her to discover that magnetic currents would so alter the crystals of the diamond as to remedy its previous defects and admit of its being polished into a perfect lens. Some such theory may have passed through my head, it is true; but if so, I had forgotten it. In my excited condition of mind there was no course left but to become a convert, and it was in a state of the most painful nervous exaltation that I left the medium's house that evening. She accompanied me to the door, hoping that I was satisfied. The raps followed us as we went through the hall, sounding on the balusters, the flooring, and even the lintels of the door. I hastily expressed my satisfaction, and escaped hurriedly into the cool night air. I walked home with but one thought possessing me—how to obtain a diamond of the immense size required. My entire means multiplied a hundred times over would have been inadequate to its purchase. Besides, such stones are rare, and become historical. I could find such only in the regalia of Eastern or European monarchs.
There was a light in Simon's room as I entered my house. A vague impulse urged me to visit him. As I opened the door of his sitting-room unannounced, he was bending, with his back toward me, over a Carcel lamp, apparently engaged in minutely examining some object which he held in his hands. As I entered, he started suddenly, thrust his hand into his breast pocket, and turned to me with a face crimson with confusion.
"What!" I cried, "poring over the miniature of some fair lady? Well, don't blush so much; I won't ask to see it."
Simon laughed awkwardly enough, but made none of the negative protestations usual on such occasions. He asked me to take a seat.
"Simon," said I, "I have just come from Madame Vulpes."
This time Simon turned as white as a sheet, and seemed stupefied, as if a sudden electric shock had smitten him. He babbled some incoherent words, and went hastily to a small closet where he usually kept his liquors. Although astonished at his emotion, I was too preoccupied with my own idea to pay much attention to anything else.
"You say truly when you call Madame Vulpes a devil of a woman," I continued. "Simon, she told me wonderful things to-night, or rather was the means of telling me wonderful things. Ah! if I could only get a diamond that weighed one hundred and forty carats!"
Scarcely had the sigh with which I uttered this desire died upon my lips when Simon, with the aspect of a wild beast, glared at me savagely, and, rushing to the mantelpiece, where some foreign weapons hung on the wall, caught up a Malay creese, and brandished it furiously before him.
"No!" he cried in French, into which he always broke when excited. "No! you shall not have it! You are perfidious! You have consulted with that demon, and desire my treasure! But I will die first! Me, I am brave! You can not make me fear!"
All this, uttered in a loud voice, trembling with excitement, astounded me. I saw at a glance that I had accidentally trodden upon the edges of Simon's secret, whatever it was. It was necessary to reassure him.
"My dear Simon," I said, "I am entirely at a loss to know what you mean. I went to Madame Vulpes to consult with her on a scientific problem, to the solution of which I discovered that a diamond of the size I just mentioned was necessary. You were never alluded to during the evening, nor, so far as I was concerned, even thought of. What can be the meaning of this outburst? If you happen to have a set of valuable diamonds in your possession, you need fear nothing from me. The diamond which I require you could not possess; or, if you did possess it, you would not be living here."
Something in my tone must have completely reassured him, for his expression immediately changed to a sort of constrained merriment, combined however, with a certain suspicious attention to my movements. He laughed, and said that I must bear with him; that he was at certain moments subject to a species of vertigo, which betrayed itself in incoherent speeches, and that the attacks passed off as rapidly as they came.
He put his weapon aside while making this explanation, and endeavored, with some success, to assume a more cheerful air.
All this did not impose on me in the least. I was too much accustomed to analytical labors to be baffled by so flimsy a veil. I determined to probe the mystery to the bottom.
"Simon," I said gayly, "let us forget all this over a bottle of Burgundy. I have a case of Lausseure's Clos Vougeot downstairs, fragrant with the odors and ruddy with the sunlight of the Cote d'Or. Let us have up a couple of bottles. What say you?"
"With all my heart," answered Simon smilingly.
I produced the wine and we seated ourselves to drink. It was of a famous vintage, that of 1848, a year when war and wine throve together, and its pure but powerful juice seemed to impart renewed vitality to the system. By the time we had half finished the second bottle, Simon's head, which I knew was a weak one, had begun to yield, while I remained calm as ever, only that every draught seemed to send a flush of vigor through my limbs. Simon's utterance became more and more indistinct. He took to singing French chansons of a not very moral tendency. I rose suddenly from the table just at the conclusion of one of those incoherent verses, and, fixing my eyes on him with a quiet smile, said, "Simon, I have deceived you. I learned your secret this evening. You may as well be frank with me. Mrs. Vulpes—or rather, one of her spirits—told me all."
He started with horror. His intoxication seemed for the moment to fade away, and he made a movement toward the weapon that he had a short time before laid down, I stopped him with my hand.
"Monster!" he cried passionately, "I am ruined! What shall I do? You shall never have it! I swear by my mother!"
"I don't want it," I said; "rest secure, but be frank with me. Tell me all about it."
The drunkenness began to return. He protested with maudlin earnestness that I was entirely mistaken—that I was intoxicated; then asked me to swear eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose the mystery to me. I pledged myself, of course, to all. With an uneasy look in his eyes, and hands unsteady with drink and nervousness, he drew a small case from his breast and opened it. Heavens! How the mild lamplight was shivered into a thousand prismatic arrows as it fell upon a vast rose-diamond that glittered in the case! I was no judge of diamonds, but I saw at a glance that this was a gem of rare size and purity. I looked at Simon with wonder and—must I confess it?—with envy. How could he have obtained this treasure? In reply to my questions, I could just gather from his drunken statements (of which, I fancy, half the incoherence was affected) that he had been superintending a gang of slaves engaged in diamond-washing in Brazil; that he had seen one of them secrete a diamond, but, instead of informing his employers, had quietly watched the negro until he saw him bury his treasure; that he had dug it up and fled with it, but that as yet he was afraid to attempt to dispose of it publicly—so valuable a gem being almost certain to attract too much attention to its owner's antecedents—and he had not been able to discover any of those obscure channels by which such matters are conveyed away safely. He added that, in accordance with oriental practice, he had named his diamond with the fanciful title of "The Eye of Morning."
While Simon was relating this to me, I regarded the great diamond attentively. Never had I beheld anything so beautiful. All the glories of light ever imagined or described seemed to pulsate in its crystalline chambers. Its weight, as I learned from Simon, was exactly one hundred and forty carats. Here was an amazing coincidence. The hand of destiny seemed in it. On the very evening when the spirit of Leeuwenhoek communicates to me the great secret of the microscope, the priceless means which he directs me to employ start up within my easy reach! I determined, with the most perfect deliberation, to possess myself of Simon's diamond.
I sat opposite to him while he nodded over his glass, and calmly revolved the whole affair. I did not for an instant contemplate so foolish an act as a common theft, which would of course be discovered, or at least necessitate flight and concealment, all of which must interfere with my scientific plans. There was but one step to be taken—to kill Simon. After all, what was the life of a little peddling Jew in comparison with the interests of science? Human beings are taken every day from the condemned prisons to be experimented on by surgeons. This man, Simon, was by his own confession a criminal, a robber, and I believed on my soul a murderer. He deserved death quite as much as any felon condemned by the laws: why should I not, like government, contrive that his punishment should contribute to the progress of human knowledge?
The means for accomplishing everything I desired lay within my reach. There stood upon the mantelpiece a bottle half full of French laudanum. Simon was so occupied with his diamond, which I had just restored to him, that it was an affair of no difficulty to drug his glass. In a quarter of an hour he was in a profound sleep.
I now opened his waistcoat, took the diamond from the inner pocket in which he had placed it, and removed him to the bed, on which I laid him so that his feet hung down over the edge. I had possessed myself of the Malay creese, which I held in my right hand, while with the other I discovered as accurately as I could by pulsation the exact locality of the heart. It was essential that all the aspects of his death should lead to the surmise of self-murder. I calculated the exact angle at which it was probable that the weapon, if leveled by Simon's own hand, would enter his breast; then with one powerful blow I thrust it up to the hilt in the very spot which I desired to penetrate. A convulsive thrill ran through Simon's limbs. I heard a smothered sound issue from his throat, precisely like the bursting of a large air-bubble sent up by a diver when it reaches the surface of the water; he turned half round on his side, and, as if to assist my plans more effectually, his right hand, moved by some mere spasmodic impulse, clasped the handle of the creese, which it remained holding with extraordinary muscular tenacity. Beyond this there was no apparent struggle. The laudanum, I presume, paralyzed the usual nervous action. He must have died instantly.
There was yet something to be done. To make it certain that all suspicion of the act should be diverted from any inhabitant of the house to Simon himself, it was necessary that the door should be found in the morning locked on the in-side. How to do this, and afterward escape myself? Not by the window; that was a physical impossibility. Besides, I was determined that the windows also should be found bolted. The solution was simple enough. I descended softly to my own room for a peculiar instrument which I had used for holding small slippery substances, such as minute spheres of glass, etc. This instrument was nothing more than a long, slender hand-vise, with a very powerful grip and a considerable leverage, which last was accidentally owing to the shape of the handle. Nothing was simpler than, when the key was in the lock, to seize the end of its stem in this vise, through the keyhole, from the outside, and so lock the door. Previously, however, to doing this, I burned a number of papers on Simon's hearth. Suicides almost always burn papers before they destroy themselves. I also emptied some more laudanum into Simon's glass—having first removed from it all traces of wine—cleaned the other wine-glass, and brought the bottles away with me. If traces of two persons drinking had been found in the room, the question naturally would have arisen, Who was the second? Besides, the wine-bottles might have been identified as belonging to me. The laudanum I poured out to account for its presence in his stomach, in case of a post-mortem examination. The theory naturally would be that he first intended to poison himself, but, after swallowing a little of the drug, was either disgusted with its taste, or changed his mind from other motives, and chose the dagger. These arrangements made, I walked out, leaving the gas burning, locked the door with my vise, and went to bed.
Simon's death was not discovered until nearly three in the afternoon. The servant, astonished at seeing the gas burning—the light streaming on the dark landing from under the door—peeped through the keyhole and saw Simon on the bed.
She gave the alarm. The door was burst open, and the neighborhood was in a fever of excitement.
Every one in the house was arrested, myself included. There was an inquest; but no clew to his death beyond that of suicide could be obtained. Curiously enough, he had made several speeches to his friends the preceding week that seemed to point to self-destruction. One gentleman swore that Simon had said in his presence that "he was tired of life." His landlord affirmed that Simon, when paying him his last month's rent, remarked that "he should not pay him rent much longer." All the other evidence corresponded—the door locked inside, the position of the corpse, the burned papers. As I anticipated, no one knew of the possession of the diamond by Simon, so that no motive was suggested for his murder. The jury, after a prolonged examination, brought in the usual verdict, and the neighborhood once more settled down to its accustomed quiet.
The three months succeeding Simon's catastrophe I devoted night and day to my diamond lens. I had constructed a vast galvanic battery, composed of nearly two thousand pairs of plates: a higher power I dared not use, lest the diamond should be calcined. By means of this enormous engine I was enabled to send a powerful current of electricity continually through my great diamond, which it seemed to me gained in lustre every day. At the expiration of a month I commenced the grinding and polishing of the lens, a work of intense toil and exquisite delicacy. The great density of the stone, and the care required to be taken with the curvatures of the surfaces of the lens, rendered the labor the severest and most harassing that I had yet undergone.
At last the eventful moment came; the lens was completed. I stood trembling on the threshold of new worlds. I had the realization of Alexander's famous wish before me. The lens lay on the table, ready to be placed upon its platform. My hand fairly shook as I enveloped a drop of water with a thin coating of oil of turpentine, preparatory to its examination, a process necessary in order to prevent the rapid evaporation of the water. I now placed the drop on a thin slip of glass under the lens, and throwing upon it, by the combined aid of a prism and a mirror, a powerful stream of light, I approached my eye to the minute hole drilled through the axis of the lens. For an instant I saw nothing save what seemed to be an illuminated chaos, a vast, luminous abyss. A pure white light, cloudless and serene, and seemingly limitless as space itself, was my first impression. Gently, and with the greatest care, I depressed the lens a few hairbreadths. The wondrous illumination still continued, but as the lens approached the object a scene of indescribable beauty was unfolded to my view.
I seemed to gaze upon a vast space, the limits of which extended far beyond my vision. An atmosphere of magical luminousness permeated the entire field of view. I was amazed to see no trace of animalculous life. Not a living thing, apparently, inhabited that dazzling expanse. I comprehended instantly that, by the wondrous power of my lens, I had penetrated beyond the grosser particles of aqueous matter, beyond the realms of infusoria and protozoa, down to the original gaseous globule, into whose luminous interior I was gazing as into an almost boundless dome filled with a supernatural radiance.
It was, however, no brilliant void into which I looked. On every side I beheld beautiful inorganic forms, of unknown texture, and colored with the most enchanting hues. These forms presented the appearance of what might be called, for want of a more specific definition, foliated clouds of the highest rarity—that is, they undulated and broke into vegetable formations, and were tinged with splendors compared with which the gilding of our autumn woodlands is as dross compared with gold. Far away into the illimitable distance stretched long avenues of these gaseous forests, dimly transparent, and painted with prismatic hues of unimaginable brilliancy. The pendent branches waved along the fluid glades until every vista seemed to break through half-lucent ranks of many-colored drooping silken pennons. What seemed to be either fruits or flowers, pied with a thousand hues, lustrous and ever-varying, bubbled from the crowns of this fairy foliage. No hills, no lakes, no rivers, no forms animate or inanimate, were to be seen, save those vast auroral copses that floated serenely in the luminous stillness, with leaves and fruits and flowers gleaming with unknown fires, unrealizable by mere imagination.
How strange, I thought, that this sphere should be thus condemned to solitude! I had hoped, at least, to discover some new form of animal life, perhaps of a lower class than any with which we are at present acquainted, but still some living organism. I found my newly discovered world, if I may so speak, a beautiful chromatic desert.
While I was speculating on the singular arrangements of the internal economy of Nature, with which she so frequently splinters into atoms our most compact theories, I thought I beheld a form moving slowly through the glades of one of the prismatic forests. I looked more attentively, and found that I was not mistaken. Words can not depict the anxiety with which I awaited the nearer approach of this mysterious object. Was it merely some inanimate substance, held in suspense in the attenuated atmosphere of the globule, or was it an animal endowed with vitality and motion? It approached, flitting behind the gauzy, colored veils of cloud-foliage, for seconds dimly revealed, then vanishing. At last the violet pennons that trailed nearest to me vibrated; they were gently pushed aside, and the form floated out into the broad light.
It was a female human shape. When I say human, I mean it possessed the outlines of humanity; but there the analogy ends. Its adorable beauty lifted it illimitable heights beyond the loveliest daughter of Adam.
I can not, I dare not, attempt to inventory the charms of this divine revelation of perfect beauty. Those eyes of mystic violet, dewy and serene, evade my words. Her long, lustrous hair following her glorious head in a golden wake, like the track sown in heaven by a falling star, seems to quench my most burning phrases with its splendors. If all the bees of Hybla nestled upon my lips, they would still sing but hoarsely the wondrous harmonies of outline that inclosed her form.
She swept out from between the rainbow-curtains of the cloud-trees into the broad sea of light that lay beyond. Her motions were those of some graceful naiad, cleaving, by a mere effort of her will, the clear, unruffled waters that fill the chambers of the sea. She floated forth with the serene grace of a frail bubble ascending through the still atmosphere of a June day. The perfect roundness of her limbs formed suave and enchanting curves. It was like listening to the most spiritual symphony of Beethoven the divine, to watch the harmonious flow of lines. This, indeed was a pleasure cheaply purchased at any price. What cared I if I had waded to the portal of this wonder through another's blood. I would have given my own to enjoy one such moment of intoxication and delight.
Breathless with gazing on this lovely wonder, and forgetful for an instant of everything save her presence, I withdrew my eye from the microscope eagerly. Alas! as my gaze fell on the thin slide that lay beneath my instrument, the bright light from mirror and from prism sparkled on a colorless drop of water! There, in that tiny bead of dew, this beautiful being was forever imprisoned. The planet Neptune was not more distant from me than she. I hastened once more to apply my eye to the microscope.
Animula (let me now call her by that dear name which I subsequently bestowed on her) had changed her position. She had again approached the wondrous forest, and was gazing earnestly upward. Presently one of the trees—as I must call them—unfolded a long ciliary process, with which it seized one of the gleaming fruits that glittered on its summit, and, sweeping slowly down, held it within reach of Animula. The sylph took it in her delicate hand and began to eat. My attention was so entirely absorbed by her that I could not apply myself to the task of determining whether this singular plant was or was not instinct with volition.
I watched her, as she made her repast, with the most profound attention. The suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of delight through my frame; my heart beat madly as she turned her beautiful eyes in the direction of the spot in which I stood. What would I not have given to have had the power to precipitate myself into that luminous ocean and float with her through those grooves of purple and gold! While I was thus breathlessly following her every movement, she suddenly started, seemed to listen for a moment, and then cleaving the brilliant ether in which she was floating, like a flash of light, pierced through the opaline forest and disappeared.
Instantly a series of the most singular sensations attacked me. It seemed as if I had suddenly gone blind. The luminous sphere was still before me, but my daylight had vanished. What caused this sudden disappearance? Had she a lover or a husband? Yes, that was the solution! Some signal from a happy fellow-being had vibrated through the avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed the summons.
The agony of my sensations, as I arrived at this conclusion, startled me. I tried to reject the conviction that my reason forced upon me. I battled against the fatal conclusion—but in vain. It was so. I had no escape from it. I loved an animalcule.
It is true that, thanks to the marvelous power of my microscope, she appeared of human proportions. Instead of presenting the revolting aspect of the coarser creatures, that live and struggle and die, in the more easily resolvable portions of the water-drop, she was fair and delicate and of surpassing beauty. But of what account was all that? Every time that my eye was withdrawn from the instrument it fell on a miserable drop of water, within which, I must be content to know, dwelt all that could make my life lovely.
Could she but see me once! Could I for one moment pierce the mystical walls that so inexorably rose to separate us, and whisper all that filled my soul, I might consent to be satisfied for the rest of my life with the knowledge of her remote sympathy.
It would be something to have established even the faintest personal link to bind us together—to know that at times, when roaming through these enchanted glades, she might think of the wonderful stranger who had broken the monotony of her life with his presence and left a gentle memory in her heart!
But it could not be. No invention of which human intellect was capable could break down the barriers that nature had erected. I might feast my soul upon her wondrous beauty, yet she must always remain ignorant of the adoring eyes that day and night gazed upon her, and, even when closed, beheld her in dreams. With a bitter cry of anguish I fled from the room, and flinging myself on my bed, sobbed myself to sleep like a child.
I arose the next morning almost at daybreak, and rushed to my microscope, I trembled as I sought the luminous world in miniature that contained my all. Animula was there. I had left the gas-lamp, surrounded by its moderators, burning when I went to bed the night before. I found the sylph bathing, as it were, with an expression of pleasure animating her features, in the brilliant light which surrounded her. She tossed her lustrous golden hair over her shoulders with innocent coquetry. She lay at full length in the transparent medium, in which she supported herself with ease, and gamboled with the enchanting grace that the nymph Salmacis might have exhibited when she sought to conquer the modest Hermaphroditus. I tried an experiment to satisfy myself if her powers of reflection were developed. I lessened the lamplight considerably. By the dim light that remained, I could see an expression of pain flit across her face. She looked upward suddenly, and her brows contracted. I flooded the stage of the microscope again with a full stream of light, and her whole expression changed. She sprang forward like some some substance deprived of all weight. Her eyes sparkled and her lips moved. Ah! if science had only the means of conducting and reduplicating sounds, as it does rays of light, what carols of happiness would then have entranced my ears! what jubilant hymns to Adonais would have thrilled the illumined air!
I now comprehended how it was that the Count de Cabalis peopled his mystic world with sylphs-beautiful beings whose breath of life was lambent fire, and who sported forever in regions of purest ether and purest light. The Rosicrucian had anticipated the wonder that I had practically realized.
How long this worship of my strange divinity went on thus I scarcely know. I lost all note of time. All day from early dawn, and far into the night, I was to be found peering through that wonderful lens. I saw no one, went nowhere, and scarce allowed myself sufficient time for my meals. My whole life was absorbed in contemplation as rapt as that of any of the Romish saints. Every hour that I gazed upon the divine form strengthened my passion—a passion that was always overshadowed by the maddening conviction that, although I could gaze on her at will, she never, never could behold me!
At length I grew so pale and emaciated, from want of rest and continual brooding over my insane love and its cruel conditions, that I determined to make some effort to wean myself from it. "Come," I said, "this is at best but a fantasy. Your imagination has bestowed on Animula charms which in reality she does not possess. Seclusion from female society has produced this morbid condition of mind. Compare her with the beautiful women of your own world, and this false enchantment will vanish."
I looked over the newspapers by chance. There I beheld the advertisement of a celebrated danseuse who appeared nightly at Niblo's. The Signorina Caradolce had the reputation of being the most beautiful as well as the most graceful woman in the world. I instantly dressed and went to the theatre.
The curtain drew up. The usual semicircle of fairies in white muslin were standing on the right toe around the enameled flower-bank of green canvas, on which the belated prince was sleeping. Suddenly a flute is heard. The fairies start. The trees open, the fairies all stand on the left toe, and the queen enters. It was the Signorina. She bounded forward amid thunders of applause, and, lighting on one foot, remained poised in the air. Heavens! was this the great enchantress that had drawn monarchs at her chariot-wheels? Those heavy, muscular limbs, those thick ankles, those cavernous eyes, that stereotyped smile, those crudely painted cheeks! Where were the vermeil blooms, the liquid, expressive eyes, the harmonious limbs of Animula?
The Signorina danced. What gross, discordant movements! The play of her limbs was all false and artificial. Her bounds were painful athletic efforts; her poses were angular and distressed the eye. I could bear it no longer; with an exclamation of disgust that drew every eye upon me, I rose from my seat in the very middle of the Signorina's pas-de-fascination and abruptly quitted the house.
I hastened home to feast my eyes once more on the lovely form of my sylph. I felt that henceforth to combat this passion would be impossible. I applied my eyes to the lens. Animula was there—but what could have happened? Some terrible change seemed to have taken place during my absence. Some secret grief seemed to cloud the lovely features of her I gazed upon. Her face had grown thin and haggard; her limbs trailed heavily; the wondrous lustre of her golden hair had faded. She was ill—ill, and I could not assist her! I believe at that moment I would have forfeited all claims to my human birthright if I could only have been dwarfed to the size of an animalcule, and permitted to console her from whom fate had forever divided me.
I racked my brain for the solution of this mystery. What was it that afflicted the sylph? She seemed to suffer intense pain. Her features contracted, and she even writhed, as if with some internal agony. The wondrous forests appeared also to have lost half their beauty. Their hues were dim and in some places faded away altogether. I watched Animula for hours with a breaking heart, and she seemed absolutely to wither away under my very eye. Suddenly I remembered that I had not looked at the water-drop for several days. In fact, I hated to see it; for it reminded me of the natural barrier between Animula and myself. I hurriedly looked down on the stage of the microscope. The slide was still there—but, great heavens, the water drop had vanished! The awful truth burst upon me; it had evaporated, until it had become so minute as to be invisible to the naked eye; I had been gazing on its last atom, the one that contained Animula—and she was dying!
I rushed again to the front of the lens and looked through. Alas! the last agony had seized her. The rainbow-hued forests had all melted away, and Animula lay struggling feebly in what seemed to be a spot of dim light. Ah! the sight was horrible: the limbs once so round and lovely shriveling up into nothings; the eyes—those eyes that shone like heaven—being quenched into black dust; the lustrous golden hair now lank and discolored. The last throe came. I beheld that final struggle of the blackening form—and I fainted.
When I awoke out of a trance of many hours, I found myself lying amid the wreck of my instrument, myself as shattered in mind and body as it. I crawled feebly to my bed, from which I did not rise for many months.
They say now that I am mad; but they are mistaken. I am poor, for I have neither the heart nor the will to work; all my money is spent, and I live on charity. Young men's associations that love a joke invite me to lecture on optics before them, for which they pay me, and laugh at me while I lecture. "Linley, the mad microscopist," is the name I go by. I suppose that I talk incoherently while I lecture. Who could talk sense when his brain is haunted by such ghastly memories, while ever and anon among the shapes of death I behold the radiant form of my lost Animula!
Is This Science Fiction?
One might be surprised that I classify this work as science fiction rather than fantasy, but note the date of copyright. In 1858, nothing was known of quantum mechanics, of the atomic structure of matter, or evolution by means of natural selection, so there seemed no difficulties in postulating that a man could build an optical microscope enabling him to see creatures living in a subatomic world, or that those creatures should be not merely humanoid but so human in appearance as to mesmerize that man with romantic longing (1).
Likewise, the modern version of spiritualism only began in 1848 and thus in 1858 seemed believable: in particular the Fox Sisters (2) seemed believable, and Margaret Fox did not confess the fraud until 1888 (3). I particularly liked the notion of summoning the spirit, not of Solomon or Paracelsus, but of Anton van Leeuwenhoek, who was of course the Father of Microscopy (4).
Also notice the use of electricity in this story, which is treated as being just as magical as the spiritualism. The techno-babblish assumption that one can improve the diamond simply by running an electrical current through it (probably by analogy with electroplating, discovered in 1805 by Luigi Brugnatelli) reminds me of current science-fictional usages of "nanotech" for instantaneous physical transformation without any of the control or thermal waste issues that one would expect from such a technology. In 1858, electricity had only commercially been used in telegraphy, but enough was known by then to make it a reasonable prediction that it would find many more engineering applications.
This should serve as a reminder to us that a science-fiction story must be judged as plausible or implausible based on the science known at the time of writing. "The Diamond Lens" is quite plausible from a mid-19th century point of view, despite the fact that today -- 155 years later -- neither the means by which the protagonist acquires his super-lens, nor how it operates, nor what he discovers through it, seem even remotely possible. The technological description is for the most part accurate, for the day (5).
Suppose that, instead of contacting the spirit of a dead scientist and concentrating light to optically-view atoms and discovering a beautiful sylph living there, the protagonist called up a computerized backup of a dead scientist and built a dimensional portal to view a world lying in a different arrangement of submicroscopic superstrings and discovering a beautiful alien creature living there? We'd call this scenario "science fiction," today, and without hesitation.
Linley is definitely and unashamedly an elitist, both in the positive sense of being a fashionable man of wealth and taste; and in the negative sense of being contemptuous of the means by which his father earned the fortune which he's wasting on loose living and Mad Science, and (worse) of the very life of Jules Simon. Does O'Brien mean us to sympathize with or be appalled by Linley's attitude?
I think that he means us to first sympathize with and then be appalled by Linley, because he first shows his protagonist in a light meant to be sympathetic (he's a fashionable young man, he has definite aesthetic sentiments and scientific curiosity, his father doesn't understand him, etc.) and then demonstrates by action just how badly a lack of compassion and simple decency can lead one astray. By the end of the story, Linley has killed Simon, run through his own allowance, accidentally killed Animula -- and nobody even believes him regarding any of his discoveries, probably because he's gone mad in the process and is failing to present them in a believable fashion (5).
O'Brien's personal history is relevant here. He was born in Ireland and at one point was a soldier in the British Army; this implies that his family was not exactly wealthy. They could not have been poor, however, because he attended the University of Dublin, before going to London, spending his inheritance in four years, and then emigrating to America in 1852. He was brilliant, talented at writing, and witty at conversation, and became popular in New York literary circles.
In other words, like Linley he came from a less cosmopolitan to a more cosmopolitan setting; he was at one point in his life a wastrel; and he was a well-educated, fashionable and popular man. The difference, of course, is that O'Brien wrote stories instead of murdering people to steal gemstones, and he regained some of his fortune by diligent effort rather than wasting it on scientific experiments which he then destroyed. This makes "The Diamond Lens" a sort of self-cautionary tale: O'Brien is writing in part about the sort of things he might have done had he possessed even less common sense than he had (6).
Was O'Brien anti-Semitic? In the story, Linley tricks, murders and robs Jules Simon, whom he believes to be Jewish ("I think that Jules Simon was a Jew. He had many traits of the Hebrew character: a love of jewelry, of dress, and of good living. There was something mysterious about him."). Linley justifies this to himself as destiny (7), by Simon's sins (he may have been a slave trader, and admits to having stolen the Eye of Morning from a slave who had embezzled the gem; Linley also assumes Simon is a "murderer" but gives no real reason for this suspicion), and (here's the anti-Semitism) by Simon's supposed religion ("... what was the life of a little peddling Jew in comparison with the interests of science?"). Linley obviously considers the murder less consequential if Simon was Jewish.
On the other hand, Linley is hardly the most reliable or sympathetic narrator by this point in the tale, and since this is Strict First Person Limited, we never get anyone else's opinion regarding such a crime. Linley is clearly insane by the end of the story, and I think the real point of Linley's whole monologue on the morality of murdering Simon
I did not for an instant contemplate so foolish an act as a common theft, which would of course be discovered, or at least necessitate flight and concealment, all of which must interfere with my scientific plans. There was but one step to be taken—to kill Simon. After all, what was the life of a little peddling Jew in comparison with the interests of science? Human beings are taken every day from the condemned prisons to be experimented on by surgeons. This man, Simon, was by his own confession a criminal, a robber, and I believed on my soul a murderer. He deserved death quite as much as any felon condemned by the laws: why should I not, like government, contrive that his punishment should contribute to the progress of human knowledge?
is that the combination of Linley's monomania and narcissicism have utterly blinded him to basic morality, which is a caution against both failings. Note the progression: Linley wants the diamond for his experiments and can't afford to buy it from Simon, so he must steal it, but if he just steals it without killing Simon he will be arrested for theft and lose the diamond, so he must kill Simon. He then comes up with excuses which in his mind make it morally-acceptable to kill Simon, but it's very obvious that these are but excuses (8).
Getting Away With Murder
A modern reader might wonder that Linley is able not only to murder Simon but get away with it with such ease, given the fact that he does the deed literally by his own hand and after he has been seen in Simon's company. One should remember the very limited ability of law enforcement agencies to solve crimes in the mid-19th century. Generally speaking, the police back then were horribly unprofessional by any modern standards, and prone to simply look for the most obvious explanation for a death and then look no further.
This was partially because municipal police forces were a new thing (the New York Municipal Police, ancestral to the modern NYPD, were only established in 1845, just 13 years before this story was written) and were still very much "police" in the old sense -- watchmen and agents of the politicians -- rather than in the modern sense of "to protect and serve." The limitations were also technological: there were no readily-searchable files of previous offenders shared between police departments (which wouldn't have been any use in the Simon case anyway, as Linley was not a known criminal), no forensic medicine (which might have revealed that the death-blow was struck at the wrong angle and force for suicide), no criminology (a criminologist would have been suspicious of a man stabbing himself in the heart rather than shooting himself) and of course no fingerprinting (which hadn't yet been invented). It also did not help that Simon probably lacked strong local ties.
Usually, the mid-19th century police force caught criminals -- when they did -- because the criminals were apprehended in the act, committed their crime before numerous witnesses, boasted about their crimes, or confessed during interrogation as a suspect (and such police were not averse to moderate amounts of torture in order to secure confessions, especially if the suspect was seen as disreputable, even though such torture was illegal even back then). To give you an idea of just how unprofessional the New York police could be in the late 19th century, consider that the New York City Police Riot happened in 1857, the year before this story was written, which was especially embarassing since one of the main reasons for a city to have a police force was to put down rioting!
So it's quite plausible for Linley to get away with his crime -- though see below ...
Evil's Reward
In the end, "The Diamond Lens" is moralistic: not so much about the danger of messing with Things Man Was Not Meant To Know, but about the way in which evil acts are punished by denying the evildoer the desired fruits of his action. Interestingly, this happens for rational as much as for the divine reasons that most 19th-century writers would have assumed. It's easy to miss, but notice why Linley accidentally kills Animula:
Suddenly I remembered that I had not looked at the water-drop for several days. In fact, I hated to see it; for it reminded me of the natural barrier between Animula and myself. I hurriedly looked down on the stage of the microscope.
In other words, Linley, because he was unable to physically possess the object of his desire, behaved with homicidal negligence towards her. He did not mean to kill her, but given that he could not speak to or meet with her, he chose to ignore her, thus belying his claim to love her. To him, "Animula" was never more than an object to own: what else could she be? He knew almost nothing of her life or nature!
In short, Linley is sociopathically selfish, and his selfishness both impels him to crime and results in his loss of the fruits of his criminal -- and scientific -- labors.
This is an excellent work of early science-fiction, and one which established some of the conventions of both the Mad Scientist and the Microversal subgeneres. It deserves modern attention.
(1) - This idea would also inform writers of the Interwar Era, such as Sterner St. Paul Meek in "Submicroscopic," published in 1931: it survives today in superhero comics, with characters like the Atom
(2) - The name of the character "Madame Vulpe" is of course a Shout Out to the Fox Sisters: O'Brien even Lampshades this in-story by having Linley and Simon discuss the etymology.
(3) - Spiritualism would not be fully-discredited until the 1920's. It's used as a story device in Bierce's "An Inhabitant of Carcosa" (1886) and "The Moonlit Road" (1907), both run on Fantastic Worlds -- in the latter story in a very science-fictional manner, speculating what secrets of murder we might learn if we could interview the victims.
(4) - O'Brien's spirit of Leeuwenhoek knows far more than did the actual Dutch lens-grinder and natural philosopher, but then it was generally-assumed that in the afterlife, one gained extraordinary knowledge regarding any topic about which one was interested. Note that the ghost of Leewenhoek can apparently predict the future, which was almost certainly beyond the man in life!
(5) - Smashing the microscope on which he expended such efforts didn't help, though he must have really worked at it to smash a diamond lens. Though diamond is brittle, it is also strong and takes considerable force to shatter. I don't think a human could do it simply by throwing it against a wall, even in the case of a big diamond.
(6) - Not of course, killing and stealing to build super-microscopes, but the commission of other unsavory acts to more pedestrian ends. O'Brien may have been homosexual, and if so would have had plenty of familiarity with the keeping of guilty secrets.
(7) - "Leewenhoek told me to do it" has to be one of the funniest excuses for murder in the history of fiction.
(8) - This is incidentally a very early science-fictional example of the Mad Scientist Rant: keep in mind that this story was written only 42 years after Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein. And Victor didn't actually kill anyone: all the murders in that book were done by the Creature. The worst Victor did was grave-robbery.


text: Terms of Use Privacy Policy Hide Fine Living Galleries Special Places To Stay Special Places To Stay 14 Of The Most Spectacular Stays Around The World Qasr Al Sarab Desert Resort - Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates San Camp - Botswana, Africa Le Sirenuse - Positano, Italy Fujiya Inn - Yamagata, Japan Endemico - Baja California, Mexico Golden Rock - Nevis Island, Caribbean Le Sereno - St. Barth, Caribbean Hotel Casa Real - Santiago, Chile Perivolas - Santorini, Greece San Camp - Kalahari Desert, Botswana La Mamounia - Marrakech, Morocco Treehotel - Harads, Sweden Ace Hotel - Palm Springs, USA Capri Suite - Anacapri, Italy San Camp - Kalahari Desert, Botswana Elysha Krupp August 4, 2014 Share Tweet Flip 0 Shares Aside from enjoying a tranquility that is broken only by the occasional animal call, guests at the San Camp retreat can take walks with local bushmen, explore the vast Makgadikgadi Salt Pans by quad bike, and even interact with a family of meerkats. The six white tents amid desert palms are fitted with Persian carpets, en suite bathrooms, and, or course, vistas of endless grasslands and starry night skies. Prev Next Recommended Reading Entertainment News Trending News: Whatever You Do, Don't Go To These Places On Memorial Day Weekend Travel Guide The Mulia Represents A New Era Of Beachside Luxury A Better Look These Must-Read Books Are Totally Worthy Of Your Downtime Fine Living News Trending News: This Paradise Island Resort Could Be Yours For Under $50 Wine & Dine Healthy and Delicious Rum Recipes


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Foreign affairs spokesman Sir Menzies Campbell said they were boycotting the probe because its remit was limited to intelligence and Iraq's weapons.
It was a "matter of profound regret" it did not include the political decision to go to war, he told MPs.
Jack Straw said "wiser counsel" in the party would come to regret the move.
In a statement to the House of Commons, the foreign secretary said former cabinet secretary Lord Butler will chair the six-member committee looking at whether the pre-war intelligence was right or wrong.
Shadow foreign secretary Michael Ancram welcomed the decision, but this was greeted with "scepticism" by Sir Menzies.
He reminded the Tories that before the war they had claimed military action was the only way of dealing with Saddam Hussein.
Sir Menzies said the Lib Dems objected to the fact the inquiry would not cover the workings of government or deal with the decision-making based on intelligence.
Satisfying the public
"Don't you understand ... that following the public response to the Hutton report that an inquiry that excludes politicians from scrutiny is unlikely to command public confidence," he asked.
"We have never doubted the prime minister's sincerity in these matters, but shouldn't the prime minister and others, in the special circumstances of this case, be willing to submit to scrutiny of their competence and judgement in the discharge of their responsibility?"
Sir Menzies asked why the probe could not have the same breadth as the Franks Inquiry into the 1982 Falklands war.
"But it is still time to give the inquiry a remit that will truly satisfy the public interest.
"The government should take that opportunity."
Mr Straw said he suspected the Lib Dems decision was one "which the wiser counsel inside the party will come greatly to regret".
"The question of whether intelligence was mishandled in terms of propriety and dishonest - that's been dealt with comprehensively by Lord Hutton," he insisted.
Mr Straw said the terms of reference of the Franks inquiry had stopped at the Argentinean invasion of the Falkland Islands and did not include the decision by the UK to take military action.
"That was properly a decision for the government of the day and the House of Commons," he added.


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Story & Breakdown Art : Frank Miller | Finished Art : Klaus Janson
Colors: Glynis Wein | Letters: Joe Rosen
Editor: Denny O'Neil | Editor-in-Chief: Jim Shooter
The next day, Matt and secretary Becky meet Melvin in jail and Becky immediately faints. Later, she confides in Matt that she was assaulted on her college campus years ago, an incident which cost her the use of her legs, and that she saw the assailant's face: it was Melvin. Upon learning that Becky never contacted the police, Matt throws a fit and leaves.
The next day in court, Matt is granted a delay in jury selection in Melvin's existing case until the defendant can be cleared of the new assault charge. Matt changes to Daredevil and searches the city for the truth, but comes up empty-handed. Later, Melvin escapes police custody and heads to the Dibney Museum for his Gladiator paraphernalia, but Matt shows up and convinces him to turn himself back in.
That night, Melvin's social worker, Betsy Beatty, is assaulted by the Melvin lookalike. He's scared off by neighbors, but Betsy's experience allows her to tell Daredevil the sorts of places he should be looking for the guy. He finds him in a leather club and after a barroom brawl, defeats him.
The Melvin lookalike is indeed Melvin's doppelganger, and Melvin is exonerated in the assault case. Matt convinces Becky to testify against the lookalike to put him behind bars.
Sub-Plots & Continuity Notes: References are made to the Gladiator's crimes at the museum "a few months ago" and issue 166 is footnoted.
Detective Manolis pops up again, arriving at the scene of the initial crime almost immediately, and is officially identified as working out of Manhattan South.
Matt visits Foggy's wife, Debby, who admits that something is wrong with Foggy. Foggy himself barges in and kicks Matt out a moment later.
My Thoughts: I think I'm too dense or too naïve or something. This is either the third or, probably, fourth time I've read this issue and I just now tumbled to the fact that Becky was raped. I read Miller's DAREDEVIL when I was in college, and at least one more time some years ago when I was a little past 30 or so — but I'm almost certain there was another reading in there somewhere in my twenties. And every time, I took her statements at face value: she was knocked down and beaten, and that was that. Only now, at age thirty-eight, do I realize Miller is giving us a very thinly veiled description of rape! But then I have always been a very literal person, so this isn't exactly surprising.
I'm also only now noting the somewhat troubling victim-shaming on Matt's part here. He's so invested in upholding the law over all else that he immediately jumps on Becky for not reporting the crime, telling her plainly, "You let him get away with it!" Granted, for his part, Miller does have Becky fight back, and he does have Matt realize later in the story that he may have overstepped his bounds by behaving this way, but even so, it's kind of a callous attitude for a so-called superhero; not to mention a defense attorney who has probably interviewed other sexual assault victims over the years. (But then again, as a defense attorney, I guess he's more often on the side of the alleged assailant rather than the victim; something I never really considered!)
As of this issue, Miller begins providing breakdowns only, in order to spend more time on writing. Klaus Janson does an outstanding job of finishing Miller's work, and it's barely noticeable that anything has changed. As I understand it, by the end of the run, Janson will more or less be the full artist, working from very loose layouts to bring Miller's stories to life. I don't believe I took notice of this fact any of the other times I read these issues, so I'll be keeping a close eye on the artwork's evolution as we go forward.


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Shagai are ankle bones from sheep that are collected and used in games and fortune telling across Asia. They are also given as tokens of friendship. My daughters were taught how to play a couple of games by our friend Munkhtulga when we visited XIII Century. They have been begging me to buy a set of bones ever since, and today we finally found a set I felt comfortable buying.
The following are the different positions that a sheep bone can "fall" into:
The positions are called camel, goat, horse and sheep depending on how they fall. These positions are used for another game that my girls learned, and I will post a video of that soon.
The girls are looking forward to having friends on Thursday to play games with! They may even learn a few new games, as one of our guest is Mongolian.


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All For One / Все для одного(1988)Воскресенье, Ноябрь 11th, 2012
The editor of a sleazy tabloid sends his best reporter to get to the bottom of TV's hottest series in this blistering sexvid from 1988. Scott Irish plays the intrepid newshound trying to figure out what the show's surprise cliffhanger is going to be. Of course, once he gets on the set Scott finds his hands full of buxom beauties and come-hither cuties who are determined to keep his mind off his job! He ends up getting down and dirty with the show's foxy female writing staff and sexy young cast members in scene after scene of pure passion. Does he ever get the story his editor is after? Does it really even matter? It's fast-paced 80s style fun filled with gorgeous sex kittens and sizzling sex!


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Chlorine Comparator Kits
As part of our continued test kit development at Water Treatment Products we can now offer our customers a Chlorine High Range and Low Range all-in-one comparator kit.
Ideal for measuring both shock dosage and continuous dosage of chlorine. Our all-in-one test kit comes packaged in a robust case with all equipment needed to carry out testing.
Instructions are provided and located inside the lid of the case preventing loss and giving the user easy access.
We can offer two different types of kits, a tablet version and a liquid version. Both use the same comparators and discs however the liquid version allows you to carry out a greater numbers of tests.
Tablet Comparator Kit
Able to carry out 50 Low range tests and 50 High range tests. Familiar to most in the water treatment industry, this test kit is based on the DPD and KI methods commonly used to measure chlorine and other oxidants.
Free and Total Chlorine can be measured with the low range test whereas only Free Chlorine is measured with the high range test.
Low Range 0-4ppm
High Range 0-100ppm
Code: WTPTK174
Liquid Comparator Kit
Based on the same chemistry as our tablet kit, our Chlorine LR and HR Comparator Liquid kit is able to cover 100-200 tests. No crushing and waiting for tablets to dissolve. Add a few drops of each reagent and instantly get a result.
Code: WTPTK166
Replacement Reagents
|Tablet Reagents
|DPD No.1 Tablets
|DPD No.3 Tablets
|Chlorine HR No.1
|Chlorine HR No.2
|Liquid Reagents
|DPD 1A Liquid
|DPD 1B Liquid
|DPD 3C Liquid
|Chlorine KI HR 1 Liquid
|Chlorine KI HR 2 Liquid
Ideal for measuring both shock dosage and continuous dosage of chlorine.
Supplied packaged in a robust case with all equipment required to carry our chlorine testing. Instructions are provided inside the lid of the case for user access.
Water Treatment Products personnel will work closely with customers to assure the effective use of the comparator kit.


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When you're building a house you engage an architect. When you're launching a product or offering a new service, who do you call? Hopefully, us.
At the very least you need professionals who can develop a comprehensive marketing plan with the tactics that will get your products sold and your services engaged.
In today's overcrowded marketplace, where the average person receives more than 4,000 marketing messages a day, you need to strike a balance between the right amount of creativity, substantive content and business acumen to deliver your message precisely to your target.
CMS believes in working to a strategy designed to deliver the results our clients want.
We don't work for the awards (although they are fun to receive), we want you to be happy with the results to your bottom line.


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This feature helps restaurants keep its loyal customers stay loyal.
Las Vegas (PRWEB) March 25, 2014
Next Gen Dine by Prelag Partners LLC announces the integration of new loyalty program and gifting features on the tablet restaurant point of sale.
Restaurants can offer patrons the ability to purchase gift cards and reward them for their loyalty with the new features released.
The new gift card feature allows merchants to sell gift cards and process them directly on the tablet point of sale. Gift cards are the perfect gift for friends and family during special occasions or holidays.
Also, restaurants can reward loyal customers with the new loyalty features. The rewards can be menu items, percent off, dollar value, or anything that the restaurant designates as an acceptable form of reward. This feature helps restaurants keep its loyal customers stay loyal.
Next Gen Dine is the future of restaurant dining. For more information about the point of sale system or to find out how your restaurant can take part of Next Gen Dine, contact Paul Roberts, Managing Partner, at 1-877-342-2218 or e-mail. Connect with us on Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn.
About Next Gen Dine
Next Gen Dine is a cloud-based, mobile restaurant point of sale software designed for the iPad. Restaurant owners can now capitalize on the benefits of a full-featured POS system for a fraction of the cost of a traditional POS. Due to the mobility offered by the software, employees can take orders directly at the table, take credit card payments at the customer's side, and drastically improve restaurant operating efficiency. Orders placed are sent directly to the appropriate prep station, therefore decreasing order turnaround time. Next Gen Dine also offers restaurant owners customer loyalty, gift card, social media, and fine- grained marketing tools.


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Sales Executive - Print / DM
- Recruiter
- Future Recruitment Ltd
- Location
- East Midlands
- Salary
- Up To £35K (OTE: Up To £50K)
- Posted
- 16 May 2018
- Closes
- 15 Jun 2018
- Ref
- Contact
- Samantha Muldoon
- Function
- Sales
- Discipline
- Printing, Digital Printing, Lithographic
- Hours
- Full Time
- Contract Type
- Permanent
Up To £35K (OTE: Up To £50K) + 22 Days Holiday + 8 Bank Holidays + Other Benefits TBD
Our client is a leading digital print company based in the East Midlands. They are currently looking to recruit a Sales Executive to join their expanding team.
- Win and develop new client relationships and grow the company's largest and most complex customers within a specified sales territory.
- Meet/exceed their sales plan by developing excellent client relationships, effectively positioning the company as the best solution, and becoming subject matter experts within their market vertical(s).
- Build, manage and expand client relationships through value, solution and consultation-based selling.
- Achieve and maintain in-depth knowledge of products and services.
- Apply consultative selling skills and technical acumen (specifically related to the company's products) to optimize earnings and company performance.
- Provide product demonstrations to prospective customers and sell the value/benefits of Mimeo solutions against anticipated or known client needs.
- Work closely with UK Sales Manager to ensure successful growth and expansion.
- Responsible for constructing annual sales forecasts for the assigned territory, and reporting on performance monthly.
- Deliver better-than-average annual sales growth on assigned territory.
- Manage account activity in Salesforce.com.
The sales team has a well-defined structure, providing colleagues with a clear progression path to further their careers.
- Minimum of 1 - 2 years of experience, with demonstrated success in corporate sales
- Exceptional phone etiquette and written communication skills
- High energy, passionate and self-motivated with strong work ethic
- Proven self-starter; possess superior prospecting and closing abilities
- Ability to meet and exceed individual sales targets
- Detail-oriented, ability to multitask
- Flexibility to travel and meet clients face-to-face within the UK
Job Reference: PT2259


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OTTAWA, ONTARIO – Aug. 14, 2008 – Further to a communication issued August 8, 2008, Health Canada is advising Canadians with milk allergies of two additional acidophilus-containing health products labelled as "non-dairy" that have been found to contain trace amounts of milk protein from dairy ingredients used in the production process. The products are:
– Natural Factors Super Strength Cal'dophilus (180 capsules)
– Natural Factors Super Strength Cal'dophilus (90 capsules)
Individuals with milk allergies can experience a variety of symptoms when exposed to even small amounts of milk proteins, including breathing difficulties which in some cases can become fatal.
Consumers with milk allergies should immediately stop using the products mentioned above and should return them to the point of purchase. Canadians who have used these products and are concerned about their health should consult with a health care professional.
For more information, please refer to Health Canada's original warning on this issue.
Consumers should contact the Health Products and Food Branch Inspectorate at 1-800-267-9675 if they find any of the products listed in this Information Update being sold in Canada.
Consumers requiring more information about this advisory can contact Health Canada's public enquiries line at (613) 957-2991, or toll free at 1-866-225-0709.