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That task, which as we follow or despise, Time consecrates ;
The eldest is a fool, the youngest wise ; And what is gray with age becomes religion.
Which done, the poorest can no wants endure,
Schiller. And which not done, the richest must be poor. ANTIQUITY-Once New.
APATHY. All that we now deem of antiquity, at one
He hears no more time were new; and what we now defend by Than rocks, when winds and waters roar. examples on a future day will stand as pre
Tacitus. | APOLOGY. ANTIQUITY-Nothing Old in.
| I do confess the imperfect performance. There may be some truth in what Solomon
Congreve. said, “There is nothing new under the sun;" | APOSTASY-Characteristics of. : but there is far more truth in what we say,
Speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their “There is nothing old under the sun." Nature
conscience seared as with a hot iron. | is preserved by her elements in a perpetual
| Forbidding to marry, and commanding to Fouth, far more wonderful than that of Ninon abstain from meats, which God hath created d'Enclos-and her favoured lovers are the
to be received with thanksgiving of them Poets. Yet to the old all things seem old;
which believe and know the truth. St. Paul. and blockheads are aged at thirty, as you may perceive from the exaggerated drivel and APOSTASY-Crime of. dotage of their drawling speech. But Genius The soul once tainted with so foul a crime, is ever young, like the star of Jove, “so beau No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd tiful and large;" and therefore this earth-this
ardour ; world-shall never want her worshippers. Those holy beings whose superior care
Guides erring mortals to the path of virtue, ANXIETY-the Poison of Life.
Affrighted at impiety like thine,
Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin. Anxiety is the poison of human life. It is
Johnson. i the parent of many sins, and of more miseries.
APOSTASY-Error of. In a world where everything is doubtful, where
Apostate, still thou err'st, nor end wilt find I you may be disappointed, and be blessed in I disappointment,-what means this restless stir
Of erring, from the paths of truth remote. | aod cornmotion of mind? Can your solicitude
APOSTASY-Guilt of. i alter the cause or unravel the intricacy of | human events? Can your curiosity pierce Not pow'r I blame, but pow'r obtain'd by crime:
through the cloud which the Supreme Being Angelic greatness is angelic virtue. bath made impenetrable to mortal eye? To | Amidst the glare of courts, the shout of armies,
provide against every important danger by Will not th' apostate feel the pangs of guilt, i the employment of the most promising means, And wish too late for innocence and peace ?
is the office of wisdom; but at this point Curst as the tyrant of th' infernal realms Tisdom stops. Blair. | With gloomy state, and agonizing pomp.
Johnson. It is not work that kills men ; it is worry.
APOSTATE-a Religious. Work is healthy : you can hardly put more
His confidence in heaven upon a man than he can bear. Worry is rust Sunk by degrees.
Claudius. upon the blade. It is not the revolution that
| APPEARANCES-often Deceitful. destroys the machinery, but the friction. Fear secretes acids; but love and trust are sweet The world is still deceived with ornament. juices. Henry Ward Beecher. | In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being season'd with a gracious voice, ANXIETY-for any Prospective Object. Obscures the show of evil? In religion, Long as to him who works for debt, the day, What damned error, but some sober brow Long as the night to her whose love's away, Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Long as the year's dull circle seems to run, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ! When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one; There is no vice so simple but assumes, So slow th' unprofitable moments roll
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. That lock up all the functions of my soul, How many cowards, whose hearts are all as That keep me from myself, and still delay
false Läfe's instant business to a future day; | As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Whose glance would scorch thr smiling grace,
I will believe thou hast a mind that Which make such wanton gambols with the With this thy fair and outward character. wind,
Shakspeare. Upon supposed fairness often known
APPLAUD-Slowness to. To be the dowry of a second bead ;
A slowness to applaud betrays a cold temper, The skull that bred them, in the sepulchre.
or an envious spirit.
Hannah More. Thus ornament is but the guiled shore To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf APPLAUSE-of the Multitude. Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
Such murmur fill'd The seeming truth which cunning time put on Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain To entrap the wisest.
Shakspeare. The sound of blustering winds, which all night
long The tinsel glitter, and the specious mien,
Had roused the sea; now with hoarse cadence Delude the most-few pry behind the scene.
Seafaring men o'er-watched, whose bark by APPEARANCES-False.
chance, Oh, how hast thou with jealousy infected Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay The sweetness of affiance ! Show men dutiful? | After the tempest. Such applause was heard. Why, so didst thou: Seem they grave and
Milton. learned ? Why, so didst thou: Come they of noble
Such a noise arose family?
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, Why, so didst thou : Seem they religious ? As loud and to as many tunes,-hats, cloaks, Why, so didst thou : Or are they spare in diet; Doublets, I think flew up; and had their faces Free from gross passion, or of mirth or anger; Been loose, this day they had been lost. Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood ;
Shakspeare. Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement; APPRECIATION-Want of. Not working with the eye, without the ear,
You may fail to shine, in the opinion of And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither! | others, both in your conversation and actions, Such, and so finely bolted, didst thou seem :
from being superior as well as inferior to them. And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
Greville. To mark the full-fraught man, and best indeed, With some suspicion.
A primrose on the river's brim,
Or by the cottage door, A miser grows rich by seeming poor; an A yellow primrose was to him, extravagant man grows poor by seeming rich. | And it was nothing more. Wordsworth.
Better to be despised for too anxious appreSo things seem right, no matter what they are hensions, than ruined by too confident a Churchill. security.
Burke. APPEARANCES-not always a Guide. ARBOUR-a Natural. Judge not; the workings of his brain
And in the thickest covert of that shade, And of his heart thou canst not see;
There was a pleasant arbour, not by art, What looks to thy dim eyes a stain,
But of the trees' owne inclination made, In God's pure light may only be
Which knitting their rancke braunches part A scar, brought from some well-won field,
to part, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. With wanton yvie twine entrayld athwart, The look, the air, that frets thy sight,
And eglantine and caprifole among, May be a token, that below
Fashion'd above within their inmost part, The soul bas closed in deadly fight
That neither Phæbus' beams could through With some infernal fiery foe,
Xor £olus' sharp blast could worke them any the mirror to the past, he bids the immortal wrong.
Spenser. shapes rise up with their crowns upon them
to rebuke ignorance, silence impeachment. A ARCHITECTURE-Historical Value of.
of names, no doubt Architecture is the printing press of all ages, not giants : though the crusade is agaiust and gives a history of the state of the society giants, not against windmills. Of the great in which it was erected, from the cromlech of dead under whose shields Lord Lindsay would the Druids to those toy-shops of royal bad place the peerage, not one was born a peer, taste-Carlton House and the Brighton Pavi- not one wouid have become a peer in the bon. The Tower and Westminster Abbey are course of direct succession. Only two-Russell giorious pages in the history of time, and tell and Wellington-were sons of peers. Some the story of an iron despotism, and the cow. ; of the rest were very humbly born. Latimer ariice of unlimited power. Lady Morgan. was the son of a poor yeomen ; the Bacons
were small squires in Suffolk, the Raleighs in ARGUMENT-Inutility of.
Devon. Blake's father was a merchant, It is in vain
Cromwell's a maltster. Neither the Hampdens (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain ;
nor the Churchills were noble. Nor were the Or, like the stars, incline men to
Ridleys. Nelson's father was a poor parson. What they're averse themselves to do; Lord Peter swears that, not only are the For when disputes are wearied out,
brown loaves mutton, but very good mutton. 'Tis int'rest still resolves the doubt. Butler. Seven-year-old south dowu, sir! old families,
sir ! the noble old aristocratic blood, sir ! the ARGUMENT-Noisy.
families, sir, that fight, and write, and rule If the bells have any sides, the clapper will the country, sir! Yet all this while, apart find them.
Ben Jonson. from controversy, no one knows better than
Lord Lindsay, that even had his illustrious ARISTOCRACY-must Exist.
dead each descended from long lines of Nor. Amongst the masses-even in revolutions-- man earls, instead of from yeomen, parsons, aristocracy must ever exist; destroy it in barristers and squires, his list would prove Dobility, and it becomes centred in the rich just nothing. A dozen cases, with no excepand powerful Houses of the Commons. Pull tion, might justify a rough kind of theory. them down, and it still survives in the master | A dozen cases, with a dozen exceptions, go to and foreman of the workshop.
Guizot. the wall. To prove anything he must prove
everything. Yet some of the very greatest ; ARISTOCRACY-the True.
are left blank. Shakspeare, Milton, Newton, What a dull world this would be, if men Johnson, Burke and Watt, stand in the very were not allowed to see things by a light of foremost rank of Englishmen-stand in mass their own! Here are two gentlemen, each of long before those named by Lord Lindsay. whom, we fancy, knows more about English These men are England. Yet who can name history than nine in every ten persons you the great-grandfather of any one of these ? Theet at your club or in your friend's house, so Their fathers' names are scarcely known, their strangely denying their own knowledge, as to | mothers' not always. Shakspeare's father was make sport, not merely for the literary a butcher, Milton's a scrivener, Newton's a Phihstines, but for grocers' boys and ladies' squireen, Johnson's a bookseller, Burke's an naiis. Lord Lindsay, “a man of letters as attorney, and Watt's a ship-chandler. Of the well as an aristocrat,” replies to the impeach antecedents of these men we know as little as ment of his order :-flinging away in a fashion of the foundations of Snowdon, Helvellyn, or to remind warriors of Don Quixote, and logi- the Surrey hills.
Hepworth Dicon. cians of Lord Peter. He mistakes windmills for ciants, and swears the brown loaf is good
ART-Poetry of.. mutton. Mr. Bright makes observations on It is a shallow criticism that would define the genius of an hereditary peerage, couclud- poetry as confined to literary productions in ing, with peremptory emphasis, that such a rhyme and metre. The written poem is only peerage cannot for ever exist in a free country. I poetry talking, and the statue, the picture, What does Lord Lindsay answer? “Look at and the musical composition, are poetry acting. history," he cries, “and you will there find Milton and Goethe, at their desks, were not that the institution you decry has been the more truly poets than Phidias with his chisel, salvation of Eugland. Who does your work – Raphael at his easel, or deaf Beethoven bend. fights your battles - writes your books-guides ing over his piano, inventing and producing you in storm and darkness ?" And holding strains which he himself could never hope to
hear. The love of the ideal, the clinging to variance; but beyond and above all such party and striving after first principles of beauty, is strifes, they are attracted and united by a ever the characteristic of the poet, and taste for the beautiful in art. It is a taste at whether he speak his truth to the world once engrossing and unselfish, which may be through the medium of the pen, the perfect indulged without effort, and yet has the power statue, or the lofty strain, he is still the sharer of exciting the deepest emotions-a taste able in the same high nature. Next to blind Milton to exercise and to gratify both the nobler and describing Paradise, that same Beethoven softer parts of our nature- the imagination composing symphonies and oratorios is one of and the judgment, love of emotion and power the finest things we know. Milton saw not, of reflection, the enthusiasm and the critical and Beethoven heard not ; but the sense of faculty, the senses and the reason. Guizot. beauty was upon them, and they fain must speak. Arts may be learned by application
ART-Symbolic. proportions and attitudes may be studied and It is an incarnation of fancy, and is a sort repeated-mathematical principles may be, of petrified poetry, or concrete rhetoric. It and have been, comprehended and adopted ; | is the blossom of the Art-tree, whose root is but yet there has not been hewn from the Thought, and whose trunk is Imagination. It marble a second Apollo, and no measuring by is inventive, imitational, and composite. Gothic compasses will ever give the secret of its is imitational, Greek inventional, and Bypower. The ideal dwelt in the sculptor's mind, zantine composite. Egyptian ornament is and his hands fashioned a statue which yet thoughtful, and always allegorical. The Asteaches it to the world.
Ruskin. | syrian is still quainter, simpler, and more
primitive. The Greek revels in noble sweeping ART-Power of.
curves and in fretted foliage, highly convenThe power, whether of painter or poet, to tionalized. The Oriental types in their art describe rightly what he calls an ideal thing. I lost their symbolic character, and became endepends upon its being to him not an ideal riched and idealized by fancy; harmony and but a real thing. No man ever did or ever a sweet grace are in every line. The Etruscan will work well, but either from actual sight, is rude and Asiatic, with Greek luxuriance. or sight of faith.
Ibid. The Roman is strong and vigorous, leafy,
luxurious, and voluptuous. The Byzantine is ART-Religiousness of.
barbarian, rich, knotted, linked, and studded Never is piety more unwise than when she | like embroidery. The Moorish is the poetry casts beauty out of the church, and by this of geometry, and the mathematics of colour, excommunication forces her fairest sister to varied and changeful as Nature. The Gothic become profane. It is the duty of religion is Nature subdued, and limited by rules and not to eject, but to cherish and seek fellowship space. The Indian is varied, strange in its with every beautiful exhibition which delights, blendings and studied intermixtures, arranged and every delicate art which embellishes by the instinct of men of a hot climate ; but human life. So, on the other hand, it is the the Persian is the most graceful and poetical duty of art not to waste its high capabilities of all oriental work; gorgeous and yet delicate in the imitation of what is trivial, and in the in colour, it is full of the broadest effects of curious adornment of what has only a finite contrasting hues, and wreathed and blossomed significance. The highest art is always the with threads of flowers, bright as those of a most religious; and the greatest artist is missal. In the harmonies of dyes there are always a devout man. A scoffing Raphael or invention and imagination. Let our students Michael Angelo is not conceivable.
follow Nature boldly and lovingly, but not
Blackie. | servilely,--learning to compose as she does,ART—the highest Sagacity.
| not following her laws without laying down The enemy of art is the enemy of nature. his own. Above all, let him remember, that Art is nothing but the highest sagacity and
ornamentation is to art what words are to exertion of human nature;-and what nature
thought, and that if design and architecture will he honour wbo honours not the human? are dead, no ornamentation, however beautiful,
can give them life. It will be at the best but ART-Study of.
a wreath of flowers round the pale brow of the The study of art possesses this great and
sesses this great and corpse. peculiar charm, that it is absolutely uncon
O powers nected with the struggles and contests of
Illimitable !-'tis but the outer hem ordinary lifo. By private interests, by political
lities Of God's great mantle our poor stars do gem. questions, men are deeply divided and set at
ARTIST-Duties of the. The whole world without art and dress
A true artist should put a generous deceit Would be but one great wilderness. Buller. / on the spectators, and effect the noblest
| designs by easy methods.
Burke. In no circumstance whatever can man be comfortable without art. The butterfly is | ARTIST-Life of the. independent of art, though it is only in sun
The life of an artist is one of thought rather shine that it can be happy. The beasts of
than action; he has to speak of the struggles the field can roam about by day, and couch
of mind rather than the conflict of circumby night on the cold earth, without danger to
stances. health or sense of misfortune. But man is miserable and speedily lost so soon as he re ARTIST-Qualities of the. moves from the precincts of human art,
He is a being of deep reflection-one without his shoes, without bis clothes, without
That studies nature with intensest eye; his doy and his gun, without an inn or a
Watching the works of air, earth, sea, and cottage to shelter him by night. Nature is
sunworse to him than a stepmother-he cannot
Their motion, altitude, their form, their dyelove her; she is a desolate and a bowling
Cause and effect. The elements which run, widerness. He is not a child of nature like
Or stagnant are, he traces to their source, a hare. She does not provide him a banquet
With vivid study, till his pencil makes and a bed upon every little knoll, every green
A perfect likeness; or, by fancy's force, Spot of earth. She persecutes him to death,
A new creation in his heart he takes, if be do not return to that sphere of art to
And matches nature's progress in his course which he belongs, and out of which she will
Towards glory. In the abstractions of the sbor him no mercy, but be unto him a demon
mind, of despair and a hopeless perdition. Ruskin.
Harmony, passion, and identity,
His genius, like the summer sun, is shrined, ARTIFICE-Employment of.
Till beauty and perfection he can see. The ordinary employment of artifice is the
Wordsworth, mark of a petty mind; and be who uses it to ARTIST-Vision of the. I cover himself in one place, uncovers himself
La Rochefoucauld. | in another.
An artist has more than two eyes.
Haliburton. ARTIFICE-in Fashionable Life.
ARTIST-Vocation of the.
Very sacred is the vocation of the artist, There is a certain artificial polish, a com- who has to do directly with the works of God, TDOD-place vivacity, acquired by perpetually and interpret the teaching of creation to mingling in the beau monde, which, in the mankind. All honour to the man who treats it | commerce of the world, supplies the place of sacredly; studies, as in God's presence, the Ta natural suavity and good humour, but is thoughts of God which are expressed to him; i parchased at the expense of all original and and makes all things according to the pattern
sterling traits of character. By a kind of wbich he is ever ready to show to earnest and fashionable discipline, the eye is taught to reverent genius on the mount. brighten, the lip to smile, and the whole
Balduin Brown. countenance to irradiate with the semblance
ARTS-Holiness of the. of friendly welcome, while the bosom is unTarmed by a single spark of genuine kindness
We speak of profane arts; but there are and good will
Wushington Irving. none properly such ;-every art is holy in
itself; it is the son of Eternal Light. ARTIST-Attributes of the.
ASCETIC-Character of the. The hair of the artist turns white, but his eye sbines clearer than ever, and we feel that
In hope to merit heaven, by making earth
a hell. aze brings him maturity, not decay. So it
would be with all, were the springs of im! tortal refreshment but unsealed within the
ASCETICISM-a voluntary Humiliation. soul; there they would see, from the lonely The men who have embraced such voluntary charber window, the glories of the universe, humiliation have too commonly accounted it ar, shut in darkness, be visited by angels. quite proper to indemnify themselves by
M. Fuller. I deriving from the meagreness of their diet