Hi,
I've been trying to load inline layer content into a scrollpane, but this
doesn't seem to work for navigator 4.08 or 6+, whereas it works fine w. IE 5.5.
I've tried loading the layer directly into the scrollpane as well as
getting its content and sticking into a label and putting that into the
scrollpane with the same result. I've tried changing the display property
of the layer to be loaded and not changing it. Netscape refuses to cooperate.
It seems that in Nestcape I can't get the contents of an inline layer I've
declared using getHTML().
The reason I'd lie to do it this way is that the content to be loaded into
the pane can be fairly long and complex, which makes it a pain to assign it
directly to the label or the pane, particularly if the content is generated
using XML/XSL. A matter of separating code and content as far as possible.
Any suggestions would be appreciated.
Here's one of my experiments which works fine w. IE.
<html>
<head>
<title>DynAPI Examples - ScrollPane</title>
<script language="JavaScript" src="../src/dynapi.js"></script>
<script language="Javascript">
DynAPI.setLibraryPath('../src/lib/');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.api.*');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.event.*')
DynAPI.include('dynapi.ext.inline.js')
DynAPI.include('dynapi.util.debug')
DynAPI.include('dynapi.util.thread.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.util.pathanim.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.dynimage.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.button.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.scrollbar.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.viewport.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.scrollpane.js');
DynAPI.include('dynapi.gui.label.js');
</script>
<style type="text/css">
.txtPlain {font-family:verdana,sans-serif; font-size:11px}
</style>
<script language="Javascript">
DynAPI.onLoad = function() {
var layer1 = this.document.getAll()['layer1']
var label1 = new Label(layer1.getHTML())
scrollobj = new ScrollPane(label1)
scrollobj.setSize(400,300)
scrollobj.moveTo(50,50)
scrollobj.setBgColor('#ebebea')
DynAPI.document.addChild(scrollobj)
}
//-->
</script>
</head>
<body bgcolor="#ffffff">
<div id="layer1" style="position:absolute;visibility:hidden">
<table width="380" cellpadding="7" cellspacing="0" border="0"><tr><td>
<p class="txtPlain">
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having
little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on
shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the
world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the
circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever
it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself
involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of
every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper
hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from
deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's
hats off- then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This
is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato
throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing
surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree,
some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean
with me.
</p>
<p class="txtPlain">
There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves
as Indian isles by coral reefs- commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right
and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the
battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes,
which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of
water-gazers there.
</p>
<p class="txtPlain">
Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears
Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do
you see?- Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands
upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against
the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks
of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get
a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent
up in lath and plaster- tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to
desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?
</p>
</td></tr></table>
</div>
</body>
</html>
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