Rubicon

Caesar leaves Gaul, crosses the Rubicon, and enters Italy.

Fortunately for England ſhe is yet on the peaceable ſide of the Rubicon; but as the flames once kindled are not alway eaſily extinguiſhed, the hopes of peace are not ſo clear as before the late myſterious diſpute began.

But, my hearers, there are Rubicons to be passed in our religious and moral course, as well as in our temporal—occasions in the experience of our hearts, which extend their influence so far into the future, that it mainly depends on the decision we then make, and the purposes we then form, whether we shall at last be saved or lost for ever.

Forgive me, ghosts of patriots,— [...] / [...] —for being taught in vain / That while the illegitimate Cæsars show / Of meaner stature than the first full strain, / (Confessed incompetent to conquer Gaul) / They swoon as feebly and cross Rubicons / As rashly as any Julius of them all.

We are always passing the Rubicon, or being called upon to see somebody else pass it. Considering how often it has been passed, the Rubicon ought to be as well bridged as the Thames. [...] Looking back a few years, we find that that heaven-born minister, Pitt [i.e., William Pitt the Younger], crossed the Rubicon time after time; and while he was crossing it, [Napoleon] Buonaparte was constantly crossing it also. Later, our Wellington crossed the Rubicon when he marched against the French in the Peninsula.

There's only one thing to be done, / For Ministers to save their bacon; / That's to re-cross the Rubicon, / To ground they ne'er should have forsaken. / [...] / On the wrong side [of] the Rubicon, / Hang me if longer I remain; / Gladstone must just re-build his boats, / And take us back again!

The game is called a double, and you score 200 instead of 100 when your adversary does not get 100, which, in technical language, is called crossing the Rubicon.

If you are a good way ahead, and particularly in the last hand but one, if you have a chance of winning a Rubicon, you should make a safe discard, with the view of dividing or winning the cards, in order to keep your adversary back. On the other hand, if the score is much against you, and you are under a Rubicon, you are justified in making a bold discard.

When one is snugly ensconced under several thicknesses of eiderdown, with the frozen water-bottle sending a cracked and mocking leer from the window sill, getting up is the one thing really irrevocable. It becomes the most final of Rubicons, the most suicidal of bridge-burnings, a leap into an abyss of vaguely dreadful activities,—a fantastic world where people stand on their feet and tie neckties.

Essentially, governments had begun borrowing from the next generation. That was the Rubicon, Mr. Streeck believes: “the first time after the postwar growth period that states took to introducing not-yet-existing future resources into the conflict between labor and capital.”

Fortunately for England ſhe is yet on the peaceable ſide of the Rubicon; but as the flames once kindled are not alway eaſily extinguiſhed, the hopes of peace are not ſo clear as before the late myſterious diſpute began.

So when friends are lied into distrust of each other, and the rubicon has been passed, either by the death of one, or that the light of truth will not break in upon the mist resting upon the other, [...] at a day too late a discovery arises, and the perpetrators of this fruitless crime, console themselves with the saying that it was "all for the sufferer's good.["]

But, my hearers, there are Rubicons to be passed in our religious and moral course, as well as in our temporal—occasions in the experience of our hearts, which extend their influence so far into the future, that it mainly depends on the decision we then make, and the purposes we then form, whether we shall at last be saved or lost for ever.

Forgive me, ghosts of patriots,— [...] / [...] —for being taught in vain / That while the illegitimate Cæsars show / Of meaner stature than the first full strain, / (Confessed incompetent to conquer Gaul) / They swoon as feebly and cross Rubicons / As rashly as any Julius of them all.

We are always passing the Rubicon, or being called upon to see somebody else pass it. Considering how often it has been passed, the Rubicon ought to be as well bridged as the Thames. [...] Looking back a few years, we find that that heaven-born minister, Pitt [i.e., William Pitt the Younger], crossed the Rubicon time after time; and while he was crossing it, [Napoleon] Buonaparte was constantly crossing it also. Later, our Wellington crossed the Rubicon when he marched against the French in the Peninsula.

When one is snugly ensconced under several thicknesses of eiderdown, with the frozen water-bottle sending a cracked and mocking leer from the window sill, getting up is the one thing really irrevocable. It becomes the most final of Rubicons, the most suicidal of bridge-burnings, a leap into an abyss of vaguely dreadful activities,—a fantastic world where people stand on their feet and tie neckties.

Like [Julius] Caesar, individuals often have little trouble pointing to the rubicons in their own lives. Nor do historians have a hard time determining when the fate of charismatic leaders is sealed. The task of discerning where institutions cross their rubicons, however, is far more difficult, for institutional movements resemble the movement of an amoeba far more than they resemble that of a man.

The maintenance of a live cell, the control of its behaviour, its development, its reproduction, and its eventual death, are determined by a series of physical and chemical thresholds, or ‘rubicons’. Only when a specific series of rubicons is crossed at the right time, in the correct order, and at the right location within the cell, will a particular cellular event occur. Similarly the behaviour of an organelle is also determined by the ‘rubicons’ it has crossed.

The game is called a double, and you score 200 instead of 100 when your adversary does not get 100, which, in technical language, is called crossing the Rubicon.

If you are a good way ahead, and particularly in the last hand but one, if you have a chance of winning a Rubicon, you should make a safe discard, with the view of dividing or winning the cards, in order to keep your adversary back. On the other hand, if the score is much against you, and you are under a Rubicon, you are justified in making a bold discard.

Brisques are not counted except to determine whether or not there is a rubicon, explained below.

As an example: if a player is well ahead, and sees the opportunity to gain a rubicon, he should discard cautiously and play so as to prevent his opponent from saving the rubicon by scoring 100 points.

A curious score was made in a game of piquet with one of the ladies. [...] In the fifth hand she made a piquet and capot, scoring 121 to 0, and in the sixth hand, being the minor, she made a repiquet, taking all but the last trick, counting 111 to 3, totalling 270, and rubiconing her opponent at 99, with a win of 469 points.

Fleming initiated me into the mysteries of Bézique, and at once set about rubiconing me, [...]

Ten points are received for the last trick but brisques are only counted if they make a difference as to who is the winner or if a player is rubiconed [...].