A. F. Winnington Ingram - "The After glow of a Great Reign"

Stephen Leacock - "Winsome Winnie and other New Nonsense Novels"

Will Rogers - "Rogers isms, the Cowboy Philosopher on the Peace Conference"

William T. Stead - "Real Ghost Stories"

Editorial
This article examines the wide range of anonymous and pseudonymous naming practices to be found in West African newspapers between the 1880s and 1930s, and asks about the shape of a West African history of anonymity as compared with recent histories of anonymity in European literature. The article also discusses the ways in which colonial West African uses of anonymity and pseudonyms challenge postcolonial scholarship on agency, subjectivity, resistance, authenticity and identity.

The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Principal Saints

A >> Alban Butler >> The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Principal Saints




ST. PAULA, WIDOW.

This illustrious pattern of widows surpassed all other Roman ladies in
riches, birth, and the endowments of mind. She was born on the 5th of
May, in 347. The blood of the Scipios, the Gracchi, and Paulus AEmilius,
was centred in her by her mother Blesilla. Her father derived his
pedigree from Agamemnon, and her husband Toxotius his from Iulus and
AEneas. By him she had a son called also Toxotius, and four daughters,
namely, Blesilla, Paulina, Eustochium, and Rufina. She shone a bright
pattern of virtue in the married state, and both she and her husband
edified Rome by their good example; but her virtue was not without its
alloy; a certain degree of the love of the world being almost
inseparable from honors and high life. She did not discern the secret
attachments of her heart, nor feel the weight of her own chains: she had
neither courage to break them, nor light whereby to take a clear and
distinct view of her spiritual poverty and misery. God, compassionating
her weakness, was pleased in his mercy to open her eyes by violence, and
sent her the greatest affliction that could befall her in the death of
her husband, when she was only thirty-two years of age. Her grief was
immoderate till such time as she was encouraged to devote herself
totally to God, by the exhortations of her friend St. Marcella, a holy
widow, who then edified Rome by her penitential life. Paula, thus
excited to set aside her sorrow, erected in her heart the standard of
the cross of Jesus Christ, and courageously resolved to walk after it.
From that time, she never sat at table with any man, not even with any
of the holy bishops and saints whom she entertained. She abstained from
all flesh meat, fish, eggs, honey, and wine; used oil only on holydays;
lay on a stone floor covered with sackcloth; renounced all visits and
worldly amusements, laid aside all costly garments, and gave every thing
to the poor which it was in her power to dispose of. She was careful in
inquiring after the necessitous, and deemed it a loss on her side if any
other hands than her own administered relief to them. It was usual with
her to say, that she could not make a better provision for her children,
than to secure for them by alms the blessings of heaven. Her occupation
was prayer, pious reading, and fasting. She could not bear the
distraction of company, which interrupted her commerce with God; and, if
ever she sought conversation, it was with the servants of God for her
own edification. She lodged St. Epiphanius and St. Paulinus of Antioch,
when they came to Rome; and St. Jerom was her director in the service of
God, during his stay in that city for two years and a half, under pope
Damasus. Her eldest daughter Blesilla, having, in a short time after
marriage, lost her husband, came to a resolution of forsaking the world,
but died before she could compass her pious design. The mother felt this
affliction too sensibly. St. Jerom, who at that time was newly arrived
at Bethlehem, in 384, wrote to her both to comfort and reprove her.[1]
He first condoles their common loss; but adds {230} that God is master,
that we are bound to rejoice in his will, always holy and just, to thank
and praise him for all things; and, above all, not to mourn for a death
at which the angels attend, and for one who by it departs to enjoy
Christ: and that it is only the continuation of our banishment which we
ought to lament. "Blesilla," says he, "has received her crown, dying in
the fervor of her resolution, in which she had purified her soul near
four months." He adds, that Christ seemed to reproach her grief in these
terms: "Art thou angry, O Paula! that thy daughter is made mine? Thou
art offended at my providence, and by thy rebellious tears, thou dost
offer an injury to me who possess her."[2] He pardons some tears in a
mother, occasioned by the involuntary sensibility of nature; but calls
her excess in them a scandal to religion, abounding with sacrilege and
infidelity: adding, that Blesilla herself mourned, as far as her happy
state would allow, to see her offend Christ, and cried out to her; "Envy
not my glory: commit not what may forever separate us. I am not alone.
Instead of you I have the mother of God, I have many companions whom I
never knew before. You mourn for me because I have left the world; and I
pity your prison and dangers in it." Paula afterwards, completing the
victory over herself, showed herself greatly superior to this weakness.
Her second daughter Paulina was married to St. Pammachius, and died in
397. Eustochium, the third, was her individual companion. Rufina died
young.

The greater progress Paula made in spiritual exercises, and in the
relish of heavenly things, the more insupportable to her was the
tumultuous life of the city. She sighed after the deserts, longed to be
disincumbered of attendants, and to live in a hermitage, where her heart
would have no other occupation than on God. The thirst after so great a
happiness made her ready to forget her house, family, riches, and
friends; yet never did mother love her children more tenderly.[3] At the
thought of leaving them her bowels yearned, and being in an agony of
grief, she seemed as if she had been torn from herself. But in this she
was the most wonderful of mothers, that while she felt in her soul the
greatest emotions of tenderness, she knew how to keep them within due
bounds. The strength of her faith gave her an ascendant over the
sentiments of nature, and she even desired this cruel separation,
bearing it with joy, out of a pure and heroic love of God. She had
indeed taken a previous care to have all her children brought up saints;
otherwise her design would have been unjustifiable. Being therefore
fixed in her resolution, and having settled her affairs, she went to the
water side, attended by her brother, relations, friends, and children,
who all strove by their tears to overcome her constancy. Even when the
vessel was ready to sail, her little son Toxotius, with uplifted hands
on the shore, and bitterly weeping, begged her not to leave him. The
rest, who were not able to speak with gushing tears, prayed her to defer
at least her voluntary banishment. But Paula, raising her dry eyes to
heaven, turned her face from the shore, lest she should discover what
she could not behold without feeling the most sensible pangs of sorrow.
She sailed first to Cyprus, where she was detained ten days by St.
Epiphanius; and from thence to Syria. Her long journeys by land she
performed on the backs of asses; she, who till then had been accustomed
to be carried about by eunuchs in litters. She visited with great
devotion all the principal places which we read to have been consecrated
by the mysteries of the life of our divine Redeemer, as also the
respective abodes of all the principal anchorets and holy solitaries of
Egypt and Syria. At Jerusalem the proconsul had prepared a stately
palace richly furnished for her reception; but excusing herself with
regard {231} to the proffered favor, she chose to lodge in an humble
cell. In this holy place her fervor was redoubled at the sight of each
sacred monument, as St. Jerom describes. She prostrated herself before
the holy cross, pouring forth her soul in love and adoration, as if she
had beheld our Saviour still bleeding upon it. On entering the
sepulchre, she kissed the stone which she angel removed on the occasion
of our Lord's resurrection, and imparted many kisses full of faith and
devotion to the place where the body of Christ had been laid. On her
arrival at Bethlehem, she entered the cave or stable in which the
Saviour of the world was born, and she saluted the crib with tears of
joy, crying out; "I, a miserable sinner, am made worthy to kiss the
manger, in which my Lord was pleased to be laid an infant babe weeping
for me! This is my dwelling-place, because it was the country chosen by
my Lord for himself."

After her journeys of devotion, in which she distributed immense alms,
she settled at Bethlehem with her daughter Eustochium, under the
direction of St. Jerom. The three first years she spent there in a poor
little house; but in the mean time she took care to have a hospital
built on the road to Jerusalem, as also a monastery for St. Jerom and
his monks, whom she maintained; besides three monasteries for women,
which properly made but one house, for all assembled in the same chapel
to perform together the divine service day and night; and on Sundays in
the church that was adjoining. At prime, tierce, sext, none, vespers,
complin, and the midnight office, they daily sung the whole psalter,
which every sister was obliged to know by heart. Their food was very
coarse and temperate, their fasts frequent and austere. All the sisters
worked with their hands, and made clothes for themselves and others. All
wore the same uniform poor habit, and used no linen except for the
wiping of their hands. No man was ever suffered to set a foot within
their doors. Paula governed them with a charity full of discretion,
animating them in the practice of every virtue by her own example and
instructions, being always the first, or among the first, in every duty;
sharing with her daughter Eustochium in all the drudgery and meanest
offices of the house, and appearing everywhere as the last of her
sisters. She severely reprimanded a studied neatness in dress, which she
called an uncleanness of the mind. If any one was found talkative, or
angry, she was separated from the rest, ordered to walk the last in
order, to pray at the outside of the door, and for some time to eat
alone. The holy abbess was so tender of the sick, that she sometimes
allowed them to eat flesh-meat, but would not admit of the same
indulgence in her own ailments, nor even allow herself a drop of wine in
the water she drank. She extended her love of poverty to her buildings
and churches, ordering them all to be built low, and without any thing
costly or magnificent; she said that money is better laid out on the
poor, who are the living members of Christ. She wept so bitterly for the
smallest faults, that others would have thought her guilty of grievous
crimes. Under an overflow of natural grief for the death of her
children, she made frequent signs of the cross on her mouth and breast
to overcome nature, and remained always perfectly resigned in her soul
to the will of God. Her son Toxotius married Laeta, daughter to a priest
of the idols, but, as to herself, she was a most virtuous Christian.
Both were faithful imitators of the sanctity of our saint. Their
daughter, Paula the younger, was sent to Bethlehem. to be under the care
of her grandmother, whom she afterwards succeeded in the government of
that monastery. St. Jerom wrote to Laeta some excellent lessons[4] for
the education of this girl, which parents can never read too often. Our
saint lived {232} fifty-six years and eight months, of which she had
spent in her widowhood five at Rome, and almost twenty at Bethlehem. In
her last illness, but especially in her agony, she repeated almost
without intermission certain verses of the psalms, which express an
ardent desire of the heavenly Jerusalem, and of being united to God.
When she was no longer able to speak, she formed the sign of the cross
on her lips, and expired in the most profound peace, on the 26th of
January, 404. Her corpse, carried by bishops, and attended with lighted
wax torches, was interred on the 28th of the same month, in the midst of
the church of the holy manger. Her tomb is still shown in the same
place, near that of St. Jerom, but empty: even the Latin epitaph which
St. Jerom composed in verse, and caused to be engraved on her tomb, is
erased or removed, though extant in the end of this letter which he
addressed to her daughter. Her relics are said to be in the possession
of the metropolitical church at Sens, and the feast of St. Paula is kept
a holiday of precept in that city on the 27th of January; on which day
her name is placed by Ado, Usuard, &c., because she died on the 26th,
after sunset, and the Jews in Palestine began the day from sunset: but
her name occurs on the 26th in the Roman Martyrology, &c. See her life
in St. Jerom's letter to her daughter, called her epitaph, ep. 86, &c.

Footnotes:
1. Ep. 22, ol. 54.
2. Rebellibus lachrymis injurian facis possidenti.
3. Nulla sic amabat filios, &c. St. Heir {} epitaph. Paulae.
4. Ep. 57, ol. 7.

ST. CONON, BISHOP OF THE ISLE OF MAN.

IF we can give credit to some lives of St. Fiaker, and the old breviary
of Limoges, that saint was son of Eusenius, king of Scotland, and by his
father committed in his childhood, with his two brothers, to the care of
St. Conon, from which saintly education he received that ardent love and
perfect spirit of piety, by which he was distinguished during the whole
course of his life. Conon, by the purity and fervor in which he served
God, was a saint from his infancy. The Isle of Man, which was a famous
ancient seat of the Druids, is said to have received the seeds of the
Christian faith by the zeal of St. Patrick. St. Conon, passing thither
from Scotland, completed that great work, and is said to have been made
bishop of Man, or of Sodor, supposed by these authors to have been
anciently, a town in this island. This bishopric was soon after united
with that of the Hebrides or the Western islands, which see was fixed in
the isle of Hi, Iona or Y-colmkille. St. Conon died in the isle of Man,
about the year 648. His name continued, to the change of religion, in
great veneration throughout the Hebrides, or islands on the West of
Scotland.[1] On St. Conon, see Leslie, Hist. of Scotland, &c.

Footnotes:
1. In some few of these islands, the laird and all the inhabitants
remain still Catholics; as Banbecuis, under Ranal Mac Donald;
South-Vist, under Alan Mac Donald of Moydart, whose ancestors were once
kings of these islands; Barry under Mac Neil; Canny, and Egg, and some
others. In many others there are long since no Catholics, as in Lewis,
North-Vist, Harries, St. Kilda, &c. See the latest edition of the
Present State of England and bishop Leslie's nephew, in his MS. account,
&c.

{233}


JANUARY XXVII.

ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM,

ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, AND DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH.

From Socrates, Theodoret, and other historians: as also from the saint's
works; and his life, written by way of dialogue, with great fidelity, by
his friend and strenuous advocate Palladius, a holy bishop, but a
distinct person from Palladius the bishop of Helenopolis and author of
the Lausiac history, who was then young, and is evidently distinguished
by this writer in many places, as Tillemont, Montfaucon, and Stilting
show against Baillet and others; though also Palladius, bishop of
Helenopolis, exerted himself in defence of St. Chrysostom. Palladius,
author of the Dialogue on the life of St. Chrysostom, was never accused
of Origenism except by those who, at least in the proofs alleged for
this charge, confounded him with the bishop of Helenopolis. F. Stilting
clears also the latter from the charge of Origenism, and answers the
arguments produced by Baronius against him. Comm. Hist. Sec.1, p. 404. The
later Greek panegyrists, George, patriarch of Alexandria, in 620, the
emperor Leo the Wise, in 890, &c., deserve very little notice. See the
life of our saint compiled by Dom Montfaucon. Op. t. 13. And lastly, the
accurate commentary on his life given by F. Stilting the Bollandist, on
the 14th of September, from p. 401 to 709, t. 4.

A.D. 407.

THIS incomparable doctor, on account of the fluency and sweetness of his
eloquence, obtained soon after his death the surname of Chrysostom, or
Golden Mouth, which we find given him by St. Ephrem of Antioch,
Theodoret, and Cassiodorus. But his tender piety, and his undaunted
courage and zeal in the cause of virtue, are titles far more glorious,
by which he holds an eminent place among the greatest pastors and saints
of the church. About the year 344, according to F. Stilting, Antioch,
the capital city of the East, was ennobled by his illustrious birth. He
had one elder sister, and was the only son and heir of Secundus, master
of the horse, that is, chief commander of the imperial troops in Syria.
His mother, Anthusa, left a widow at twenty years of age, continued such
the remainder of her life, dividing her time between the care of her
family and the exercises of devotion. Her example in this respect made
such an impression on our saint's master, a celebrated pagan sophist,
that he could not forbear crying out, "What wonderful women have the
Christians!"[1] She managed the estate of her children with great
prudence and frugality, knowing this to be part of her duty to God, but
she was sensible that their spiritual instruction in virtue was of
infinitely greater importance. From their cradle she instilled into them
the most perfect maxims of piety, and contempt of the world. The ancient
Romans dreaded nothing more in the education of youth, than their being
ill taught the first principles of the sciences; it being more difficult
to unlearn the errors then imbibed, than to begin on a mere tabula rasa,
or blank paper. Wherefore Anthusa provided her son the ablest masters in
every branch of literature, which the empire at that time afforded.
Eloquence was esteemed the highest accomplishment, especially among the
nobility, and was the surest means of raising men to the first dignities
in the state. John studied that art under Libanius, the most famous
orator of that age; and such was his proficiency, that even in his youth
he excelled his masters. Libanius being asked by his pagan friends on
his death-bed, about the year 390, who should succeed him in his school:
"John," said he, "had not the Christians stolen him from us."[2] Our
saint was then priest. While he was only a scholar, that sophist one day
read to an assembly of orators a declamation composed by him, and it was
received with unusual tokens {234} of admiration and applause. Libanius
pronounced the young orator happy, "as were also the emperors," he said,
"who reigned at a time when the world was possessed of so great a
treasure."[3] The progress of the young scholar in philosophy, under
Andragatius, was no less rapid and surprising; his genius shone in every
disputation. All this time his principal care was to study Christ, and
to learn his spirit. He laid a solid foundation of virtue, by a perfect
humility, self-denial, and a complete victory over himself. Though
naturally hot and inclined to anger, he had extinguished all emotions of
passion in his breast.[4] His modesty, meekness, tender charity, and
singular discretion, rendered him the delight of all he conversed with.

The first dignities of the empire were open to John. But his principal
desire was to dedicate himself to God, without reserve, in holy
solitude. However, not being yet twenty years of age, he for some time
pleaded at the bar. In that employment he was drawn by company into the
diversions of the world, and sometimes assisted at the entertainments of
the stage. His virtue was in imminent danger of splitting against that
fatal rock, when God opened his eyes. He was struck with horror at the
sight of the precipice upon the brink of which he stood; and not content
to flee from it himself, he never ceased to bewail his blindness, and
took every occasion to caution the faithful against that lurking place
of hellish sirens, but more particularly in his vehement sermons against
the stage. Alarmed at the danger he had narrowly escaped, full of
gratitude to God his deliverer, and to prevent the like danger for the
time to come, he was determined to carry his resolution of renouncing
the world into immediate execution. He began by the change of his garb,
to rid himself the more easily of the importunities of friends: for a
penitential habit is not only a means for preserving a spirit of
mortification and humility, but is also a public sign and declaration to
the world, that a person has turned his back on its vanities, and is
engaged in an irreconcilable war against them. His clothing was a coarse
gray coat: he watched much, fasted every day, and spent the greater part
of his time in prayer and meditation on the holy scriptures: his bed was
no other than the hard floor. In subduing his passions, he found none of
so difficult a conquest as vain-glory;[5] this enemy he disarmed by
embracing every kind of public humiliation. The clamors of his old
friends and admirers, who were incensed at his leaving them, and pursued
him with their invectives and censures, were as arrows shot at random.
John took no manner of notice of them: he rejoiced in contempt, and
despised the frowns of a world whose flatteries he dreaded: Christ
crucified was the only object of his heart, and nothing could make him
look back after he had put his hand to the plough. And his progress in
virtue was answerable to his zealous endeavors.

St. Meletius, bishop of Antioch, called the young ascetic to the service
of the church, gave him suitable instructions, during three years, in
his own palace, and ordained him Reader. John had learned the art of
silence, in his retirement, with far greater application than he had
before studied that of speaking. This he discovered when he appeared
again in the world, though no man ever possessed a greater fluency of
speech, or a more ready and enchanting eloquence, joined with the most
solid judgment and a rich fund of knowledge and good sense; yet in
company he observed a modest silence, and regarded talkativeness as an
enemy to the interior recollection of the heart, as a source of many
sins and indiscretions, and as a mark of vanity and self-conceit. He
heard the words of the wise with the humble docility of a scholar, and
he bore the impertinence, trifles, and blunders of {235} fools in
discourse, not to interrupt the attention of his soul to God, or to make
an ostentatious show of his eloquence or science: yet with spiritual
persons he conversed freely on heavenly things, especially with a pious
friend named Basil, one of the same age and inclinations with himself,
who had been his most beloved school-fellow, and who forsook the world
to embrace a monastic life, a little before our saint. After three
years, he left the bishop's house to satisfy the importunities of his
mother, but continued the same manner of life in her house, during the
space of two years. He still saw frequently his friend Basil, and he
prevailed on two of his school-fellows under Libanius to embrace an
ascetic life; Theodorus, afterwards bishop of Mopsuestia, and Maximus,
bishop of Seleucia. The former returned in a short time to the bar, and
fell in love with a young lady called Hermione. John lamented his fall
with bitter tears before God, and brought him back to his holy institute
by two tender and pathetic exhortations to penance, "which breathe an
eloquence above the power of what seems merely human," says Sozomen. Not
long after, hearing that the bishops of the province were assembled at
Antioch, and deliberated to raise him and Basil to the episcopal
dignity, he privately withdrew, and lay hid till the vacant sees were
filled. Basil was made bishop of Raphanaea near Antioch; and had no other
resource in his grief for his promotion, but in tears and complaints
against his friend who had betrayed him into so perilous a charge. John,
being then twenty-six years old, wrote to him in his own justification
six incomparable books, Of the Priesthood.

Four years after, in 374, he retired into the mountains near Antioch,
among certain holy anchorets who peopled them, and whose manner of life
is thus described by our saint:[6] They devoted all the morning to
prayer, pious reading, and meditating on the holy scriptures. Their food
was bread with a little salt; some added oil, and those who were very
weak, a few herbs or pulse; no one ever ate before sunset. After the
refection it was allowed to converse with one another, but only on
heavenly things. They always closed their night-prayers with the
remembrance of the last judgment, to excite themselves to a constant
watchfulness and preparation; which practice St. Chrysostom earnestly
recommends to all Christians with the evening examination.[7] These
monks had no other bed than a mat spread on the bare ground. Their
garments were made of the rough hair of goats or camels, or of old
skins, and such as the poorest beggars would not wear, though some of
them were of the richest families, and had been tenderly brought up.
They wore no shoes; no one possessed any thing as his own; even their
poor necessaries were all in common. They inherited their estates only
to distribute them among the poor; and on them, and in hospitality to
strangers, they bestowed all the spare profits of their work. They all
used the same food, wore a uniform habit, and by charity were all one
heart. The cold words mine and thine, the baneful source of lawsuits and
animosities among men, were banished from their cells. They rose at the
first crowing of the cock, that is, at midnight, being called up by the
superior; and after the morning hymns and psalms, that is, matins and
lauds, all remained in their private cells, where they read the holy
scriptures, and some copied books. All met in the church at the
canonical hours of tierce, sext, none, and vespers, but returned to
their cells, none being allowed to speak, to jest, or to be one moment
idle. The time which others spend a table, or in diversions, they
employed in honoring God; even their meal took up very little time, and
after a short sleep, (according to the custom of hot countries,) {236}
they resumed their exercises, conversing not with men but with God, with
the prophets and apostles in their writings and pious meditation; and
spiritual things were the only subject of their entertainment. For
corporal exercise they employed themselves in some mean manual labor,
such as entertained them in humility, and could not inspire vanity or
pride: they made baskets, tilled and watered the earth, hewed wood,
attended the kitchen, washed the feet of all strangers, and waited on
them without distinction, whether they were rich or poor. The saint
adds, that anger, jealousy, envy, grief, and anxiety for worldly goods
and concerns, were unknown in these poor cells; and he assures us, that
the constant peace, joy, and pleasure which reigned in them, were as
different from the bitterness and tumultuous scenes of the most
brilliant worldly felicity, as the security and calmness of the most
agreeable harbor are, from the dangers and agitation of the most
tempestuous ocean. Such was the rule of these cenobites, or monks who
lived in community. There were also hermits on the same mountains who
lay on ashes, wore sackcloth, and shut themselves up in frightful
caverns, practising more extraordinary austerities. Our saint was at
first apprehensive that he should find it an insupportable difficulty to
live without fresh bread, use the same stinking oil for his food and for
his lamp, and inure his body to hard labor under so great
austerities.[8] But by courageously despising this apprehension, in
consequence of a resolution to spare nothing by which he might learn
perfectly to die to himself; he found the difficulty entirely to vanish
in the execution. Experience shows that in such undertakings, the
imagination is alarmed not so much by realities as phantoms, which
vanish before a courageous heart which can look them in the face with
contempt. Abbot Rance, the reformer of la Trappe, found more difficulty
in the thought of rising without a fire in winter, in the beginning of
his conversion, than he did in the greatest severities which he
afterwards practised. St. Chrysostom passed four years under the conduct
of a veteran Syrian monk, and afterwards two years in a cave as a
hermit. The dampness of this abode brought on him a dangerous distemper,
and for the recovery of his health he was obliged to return into the
city. By this means he was restored to the service of the church in 381,
for the benefit of innumerable souls. He was ordained deacon by St.
Meletius that very year, and priest by Flavian in 386, who at the same
time constituted him his vicar and preacher, our saint being then in the
forty-third year of his age.[9] He discharged all the duties of that
arduous station during twelve {237} years, being the hand and the eye of
his bishop, and his mouth to his flock. The instruction and care of the
poor he regarded as his first obligation: this he always made his
favorite employment and his delight. He never ceased in his sermons to
recommend their cause and the precept of alms deeds to the people.
Antioch, he supposed, contained at that time one hundred thousand
Christian souls: all these he fed with the word of God, preaching
several days in the week, and frequently several times on the same day.
He confounded the Jews and Pagans, also the Anomaeans, and other
heretics. He abolished the most inveterate abuses, repressed vice, and
changed the whole face of that great city. It seemed as if nothing could
withstand the united power of his eloquence, zeal, and piety.

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.