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INSTRUCTION (See EDUCATION, TEACHING)
Glorious indeed is the world of God around INSULT
us, but more glorious the world of God within
us. There lies the Land of Song; there lies Qui se laisse outrager, mérite qu'on l'outrage the poet's native land. Et l'audace impunie enfle trop un courage.
LONGFELLOW-Hyperion. Bk. I. Ch. VIII. He who allows himself to be insulted de
15 serves to be so; and insolence, if unpunished, increases!
A man is not a wall, whose stones are crushed CORNEILLE-Heraclius. I. 2.
upon the road; or a pipe, whose fragments are thrown away at a street corner. The fragments
of an intellect are always good. Kein Heiligthum heisst uns den Schimpf ertragen. No sacred fane requires us to submit to insult.
GEORGE SAND-Handsome Lawrence. Ch. II. GOETHE—Torquato Tasso. III. 3. 191. 16 3 Quid facies tibi,
The march of intellect. Injuriæ qui addideris contumeliam?
SOUTHEY—Sir Thos. More; or, Colloquies on the What wilt thou do to thyself, who hast
Progress and Prospects of Society. Vol. II.
P. 361. added insult
to injury? PHÆDRUS-Fables. V. 3. 4.
The intellectual power, through words and Contumeliam si dices, audies.
things, If you speak insults you will hear them also. Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!
PLAUTUS—Pseudolus. Act IV. 7. 77. WORDSWORTH-Excursion. Bk. III. Sæpe satius fuit dissimulare quam ulcisci. Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
It is often better not to see an insult than Through words and things, a dim and perilous to avenge it.
way. SENECA-De Ira. II. 32.
WORDSWORTH–Borderers. Written eighteen
years before EXCURSION. INTELLECT The hand that follows intellect can achieve. INTEMPERANCE (See also DRINKING, WINE) MICHAEL ANGELO—The Artist. LONGFELLOW's trans.
Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation 7
Which rises from the cup of mad impiety, In short, intelligence, considered in what seems to be its original feature, is the faculty of manu
And go, get drunk with that divine intoxication
Which is more sober far than all sobriety. facturing artificial objects, especially tools to
WM. R. ALGER-Oriental Poetry. The Sober make tools, and of indefinitely urging the
Drunkenness. manufacture. HENRI BERGSON—Creative Evolution. Ch. II.
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk;
The best of life is but intoxication: Instinct perfected is a faculty of using and
Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk even constructing organized instruments; in
The hopes of all men and of every nation; telligence perfected is the faculty of making and
Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk using unorganized instruments. HENRI BERGSON—Creative Evolution. Ch. II.
Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion:
But to return, Get very drunk; and when For the eye of the intellect "sees in all ob
You wake with headache, you shall see what
then. jects what it brought with it the means of
BYRON—Don Juan. Canto II. St. 179. seeing." CARLYLE-Varnhagen Von Ense's Memoirs. London and Westminster Review. 1838.
Libidinosa etenim et intemperans adole(See also CARLYLE under EYES)
scentia effætum corpus tradit senectuti.
A sensual and intemperate youth hands The growth of the intellect is spontaneous
over a worn-out body to old age. in every expansion. The mind that grows
CICERO—De Senectute. IX. could not predict the times, the means, the mode of that spontaneity. God enters by a Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop private door into every individual.
appears, EMERSON—Essays. Intellect.
As the red waves of wretchedness swell, 11
How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years good-will makes intelligence.
The horrible Light-House of Hell! EMERSON—The Titmouse. L. 65.
M'DONALD CLARKE—The Rum Hole. 12 Works of the intellect are great only by
All learned, and all drunk! comparison with each other.
COWPER—The Task. Bk. IV. L. 478.
Gloriously drunk, obey the important call. FALCONER—The Shipwreck. Canto I. L. 104. COWPER-The Task. Bk. IV. L. 510.
He calls drunkenness an expression identical O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of with ruin.
bread to this intolerable deal of sack! DIOGENES LAERTIUS—Lives of the Philosophers. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 4. L. 591. Pythagoras. VI.
Sweet fellowship in shame! Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day. One drunkard loves another of the name. DRYDEN-Cymon and Iphigenia. L. 407. Love's Labour's Lost. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 48.
Boundless intemperance Petition me no petitions, Sir, to-day;
In nature is a tyranny, it hath been Let other hours be set apart for business,
Th’untimely emptying of the happy throne, To-day it is our pleasure to be drunk;
And fall of many kings.
Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 66.
And now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts, He that is drunken *
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come Is outlawed by himself; all kind of
To start my quiet.
Othello. Act I. Sc. l. L. 98.
O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde, should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, Lose all mine own? God hath giv'n me a
transform ourselves into beasts!
Othello. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 293. Short of His can and body; must I find
A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure? I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell HERBERT—The Temple. The Church Porch. me, I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as St. 7.
Hydra, such an answer would stop them all.
To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, Quid non ebrietas designat? Operta recludit;
and presently a beast!
Othello. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 305. Spes jubet esse ratas; in prælia trudit inermem.
What does drunkenness not accomplish? It discloses secrets, it ratifies hopes, and
Every inordinate cup is unblessed and the inurges even the unarmed to battle.
gredient is a devil.
Othello. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 309. HORACE-Epistles. I. 5. 16.
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; Touch the goblet no more!
So full of valour that they smote the air It will make thy heart sore
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground To its very core!
For kissing of their feet.
What's a drunken man like, fool? Soon as the potion works, their human count' Like a drowned man, a fool and a madman: nance,
one draught above heat makes him a fool; the Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd second mads him; and a third drowns him. Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Twelfth Night Act I. Sc. 5. L. 136.
Drunkenness is an immoderate affection and And they, so perfect in their misery,
use of drink. That I call immoderation that is Not once perceive their foul disfigurement. besides or beyond that order of good things for MILTON—Comus. L. 64.
which God hath given us the use of drink.
JEREMY TAYLOR—Holy Living. Of DrunkenAnd when night
ness. Ch. II. Pt. 2. Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
The wine of Love is music, MOLTON—Paradise Lost. Bk. I. L. 500. And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and rises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart, PRIOR--Solomon. Bk. II. L. 106.
That great, rich Vine.
JAMES THOMSON-The Vine. Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.
A drunkard clasp his teeth and not undo 'em, Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em. madness.
CYRIL TOURNEUR—The Revenger's Tragedy. SENECA-Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. LXXXIII. Act III. Sc. 1.
INTENTION (See MOTIVE)
Nothing has such power to broaden the mind
as the ability to investigate systematically and A tool is but the extension of a man's hand, truly all that comes under thy observation in life. and a machine is but a complex tool. And he MARCUS AURELIUS—Meditations. Ch. II. that invents a machine augments the power of å man and the well-being of mankind.
Attempt the end and never stand to doubt; HENRY WARD BEECHER—Proverbs from Ply- Nothing's so hard but search will find it out. mouth Pulpit. Business.
HERRICK-Hesperides. Seeke and Finde. 2 Se non è vere è ben trovato.
Hail, fellow, well met, It is not true, it is a happy invention.
All dirty and wet: GIORDANO BRUNO-Gli Froici Furori. At
Find out, if you can, tributed erroneously to CARDINAL D’ESTE.
Who's master, who's man. Quoted in PASQUIER Recherces (1600) as "Si cela n'est vray, il est bien trouve."
SWIFT_My Lady's Lamentation.
There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,
The golden hour of invention must terminate like other hours, and when the man of genius
But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, returns to the cares, the duties, the vexations,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion and the amusements of life, his companions be
Не: hold him as one of themselves—the creature of
sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh. habits and infirmities.
-The Exile of Erin.
There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle,
'Twas St. Patrick himself sure that set it; God hath made man upright; but they have And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile, sought out many inventions.
And with dew from his eye often wet it. Ecclesiastes. VII. 29.
It thrives through the bog, through the brake,
and the mireland; Only an inventor knows how to borrow, and
And he called it the dear little shamrock of Ire every man is or should be an inventor.
landEMERSON--Letters and Social Aims. Quotation The sweet little shamrock, the dear little shamand Originality.
The sweet little, green little, shamrock of Take the advice of a faithful friend, and sub
Ireland! mit thy inventions to his censure.
ANDREW CHERRY—Green little Shamrock of FULLER—The Holy and Profane States. Bk.
Ireland. III. Of Fancy.
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises! Electric telegraphs, printing, gas,
An emerald set in the ring of the sea. Tobacco, balloons, and steam,
Each blade of thy meadows my faithful heart. Are little events that have come to pass
prizes, Since the days of the old régime.
Thou queen of the west, the world's cushla ma And, spite of Lemprière's dazzling page,
chree. I'd give—though it might seem bold
JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN-Cushla ma Chree. A hundred years of the Golden Age For a year of the Age of Gold.
When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling HENRY S. LEIGH-The Two Ages.
God blessed the green island, he saw it was good. This is a man's invention and his hand.
The Emerald of Europe, it sparkled and shone As You Like It. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 29. In the ring of this world, the most precious stone. 10
WILLIAM DRENNAN-Erin. Supposed to be He had been eight years upon a project for
origin of term "Emerald Isle." Phrase extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which
taken from an old song, "Erin to her own were to be put in phials hermetically sealed, and
Tune." (1795) let out to warm the air in raw, inclement sum
Arm of Erin, prove strong, but be gentle as SWIFT-Gulliver's Travels. Pt. III. Ch. V. brave, Voyage to Laputa.
And, uplifted to strike, still be ready to save;
Nor one feeling of vengeance presume to defile We issued gorged with knowledge, and I spoke:
The cause or the men of the Emerald Isle. "Why, Sirs, they do all this as well as we.
WILLIAM DRENNAN—Erin. “They hunt old trails” said Cyril, "very well; But when did woman ever yet invent?"
Every Irishman has a potatoe in his head. TENNYSON— Princess. II. L. 366.
J. C. AND A. W. HARE Guesses at Truth.
The dust of some is Irish earth,
Among their own they rest. JOHN KELLS INGRAM-Who dares to speak of ninety-eight.
(See also BROOKE under ENGLAND) Old Dublin City there is no doubtin'
Bates every city upon the say.
And Lady Morgan making tay.
With charm n' pisintry upon a fruitful sod, Fightin' like devils for conciliation,
And hatin' each other for the Love of God. CHARLES J. LEVER. Attributed to him in
article in Notes and Queries, Jan. 2, 1897. P. 14. Claimed to be an old Irish song by LADY MORGAN in her Diary, Oct. 10, 1826.
Th' an'am an Dhia, but there it is
The dawn on the hills of Ireland. God's angels lifting the night's black veil
From the fair sweet face of my sireland! O Ireland, isn't it grand, you look
Like a bride in her rich adornin',
I bid you the top of the morning.
ISLANDS From the sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
Smile on the brow of the waters.
13 Fast-anchor'd isle. COWPER—The Task. Bk. II. The Timepiece.
Thos. DIBDIN—The Snug Little Island.
The groves of Blarney.
They look so charming
Of sweet, silent brooks.
To grow eloquent.
ney. In Reliques of Father Prout.
Sprinkled along the waste of years
day in Advent. St. 8.
Your isle, which stands
Cymbeline. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 18.
Hills. L. 66. Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers
mark As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the
blown clouds hover, Sark. SWINBURNE—Insularum Ocelle.
When law can stop the blades of grass from
growing as they grow; And when the leaves in Summer-time their
colour dare not show; Then will I change the colour too, I wear in my
caubeen; But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin'
o' the Green. Wearin' o' the Green. (Shan-Van-Voght.)
Old Irish Song found in W. STEUART TRENCH'S Realities of Irish Life. DION BOUCICAULT used first four lines, and added the rest himself, in Arrah-na-Pogue. See article in The Citizen, Dublin, 1841. Vol. III. P. 65.
Summer isles of Eden, lying in dark purple
spheres of sea. TENNYSON—Locksley Hall. 164. Island of bliss! amid the subject Seas, That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up, At once the wonder, terror, and delight Of distant nations; whose remotest shore
Italia, Italia, O tu cui feo la sorte,
Walls must get the weather stain Dono infelice di bellezza, ond' hai
Before they grow the ivy. Funesta dote d'infiniti guai
E. B. BROWNING—Aurora Leigh. Bk. VIII. Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porte. Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became
The rugged trees are mingling A funeral dower of present woes and past,
Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame,
To clasp the boughs above.
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon. Beyond the Alps lies Italy.
COWPER—The Progress of Error. L. 285. İ. W. FOLEY-Graduation Time. Expression found in LIVY-Ab Urbe. Bk. 21. 30. Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green,
That creepeth o'er ruins old! L'Italie est un nom geographique.
Of right choice food are his meals I ween, Italy is only a geographical expression.
In his cell so lone and cold. PRINCE METTERNICH to LORD PALMERSTON,
1847. See his Letter to COUNT PROKESCH Creeping where no life is seen, OSTEN, Nov. 19, 1849. Correspondence of
A rare old plant is the ivy green.
DICKENS-Pickwick. Ch. VI.
The clasping ivy where to climb. Gli Italiani tutti ladroni.
MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. IX. L. 216. All Italians are plunderers. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE when in Italy.
On my velvet couch reclining, Non tutti, ma buona parte.
Ivy leaves my brow entwining, Not all but a good part.
While my soul expands with glee, Response by a lady who overheard him.
What are kings and crowns to me? See COLERIDGE–Biographia Literaria. Saty MOORE-Odes of Anacreon. Ode XLVIII.
rane's Letters. No. 2. (Ed. 1870) I Francesci son tutti ladri-Non tutti-ma buona parte.
Bring, bring the madding Bay, the drunken PASQUIN when the French were in possession
vine; of Rome. See CATHERINE TAYLOR's Letters The creeping, dirty, courtly Ivy join. from Italy. Vol. I. P. 239. (Ed. 1840)
POPE--The Dunciad. Bk. I. L. 303. Quoted also by CHARLOTTE EATON-Rome in the Nineteenth Cent. Vol. II. P. 120. (Ed. Round broken columns clasping ivy twin'd. 1852)
POPE-Windsor Forest. L. 69.
Where round some mould'ring tow'r pale ivy Thy naiad airs have brought me home
creeps, To the glory that was Greece
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the And the grandeur that was Rome.
POPE-Eloisa to Abelard. L. 243.