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he can read a paper in a tavern without having a stranger looking over each shoulder. Fenimore Cooper. ENGLISH-Mental Peculiarities of the. They have no fancy, and never are surprised into a covert or witty word, such as pleased the Athenians and Italians, and was convertible into a fable not long after; but they delight in strong earthy expression, not mistakable, coarsely true to the human body, and, though spoken among princes, equally fit and welcome to the mob. This homeliness, veracity, and plain style appear in the earliest extant works, and in the latest. It imparts into songs and ballads the smell of the earth, the breath of cattle, and, like a Dutch painter, seeks a household charm, though by pails and pans. They ask their constitutional utility in verse. The kail and herrings are never out of sight. The poet nimbly recovers himself from every sally of the imagination. The English muse loves the farmyard, the lane, and market. She says, with De Stael, "I tramp in the mire with wooden shoes whenever they would force me into the clouds." For the Englishman has accurate perceptions; takes hold of things by the right end, and there is no slipperiness in his grasp. He loves the axe, the spade, the car, the gun, the steam-pipe; he has built the engine he uses. He is materialist, economical, mercantile. He must be treated with sincerity and reality-with muffins, and not the promise of muffins; and prefers his hot chop with perfect security and convenience in the eating of it, to the chances of the amplest and Frenchiest bill of fare, engraved on embossed paper. When he is intellectual, and a poet, or a philosopher, he carries the same hard truth and the same keen machinery into the mental sphere. His mind must stand on a fact. He will not be baffled, or catch at clouds, but the mind must have a symbol palpable and resisting. What he relishes in Dante is the vice-like tenacity with which he holds a mental image before the eyes, as if it were a scutcheon painted on a shield. Byron "liked something craggy to break his mind upon." A taste for pain, strong speech-what is called a biblical style-marks the English. It is in Alfred, and the Saxon Chronicle, and in the Sages of the Northmen. Latimer was homely. Hobbs was I perfect in the "noble vulgar speech." Donne, Banyan, Milton, Taylor, Evelyn, Pepys, Hooker, Cotton, and the translators, wrote it. How realistic or materialistic in treatment of his subject is Swift! He describes his fictitious persons as if for the police. Defoe has no insecurity or choice. Hudibras has the same hard mentality, keeping the truth at once to the senses and to the intellect. It is not less

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seen in poetry. Chaucer's hard painting of his Canterbury pilgrims satisfies the senses. Shakspeare, Spenser, and Milton, in their loftiest ascents, have this national grip and exactitude of mind. This mental materialism makes the value of English transcendental genius; in these writers, and in Herbert, Henry Moore, Donne, and Sir Thomas Browne. The Saxon materialism and narrowness, exalted into the sphere of intellect, makes the very genius of Shakspeare and Milton. When it reaches the pure element, it treads the clouds as securely as the adamant. Even in its elevations materialistic, its poetry is common sense inspired, or iron raised to white heat. Emerson. ENGLISH-National Peculiarities of the. They love the lever, the screw, and pulley; the Flanders draught-horse, the waterfall, windmills, tide-mills; the sea and the wind to bear their freight-ships. More than the diamond koh-i-noor, which glitters among their crown jewels, they prize the dull pebble, which is wiser than a man, and whose poles turn themselves to the poles of the world, and whose axis is parallel to the axis of the world. Now, their toys are steam and galvanism. They are heavy at the fine arts, but adroit at the coarse; not good in jewellery or mosaics, but the best iron-masters, colliers, wool-combers, and tanners in Europe. They apply themselves to agriculture, to draining, to resisting encroachments of sea-wind, travelling sands, cold and wet subsoil! to fishery, to manufacture of indispensable staples,-salt, plumbago, leather, wool, glass, pottery, and brick,-to bees and silkworms; and by their steady combinations they succeed. A manufacturer sits down to dinner in a suit of clothes which was wool on a sheep's back at sunrise. You dine with a gentleman on venison, pheasant, quail, pigeons, poultry, mushrooms, and pineapples, all the growth of his estate. They are neat husbands for ordering all their tools pertaining to house and field. All are well kept. There is no want and no waste. They study use and fitness in their building, in the order of their dwellings, and in their dress. The Frenchman invented the ruffle; the Englishman added the shirt. The Englishman wears a sensible coat, buttoned to the chin, of rough but solid and lasting texture. If he is a lord, he dresses a little worse than a commoner. They have diffused the taste for plain substantial hats, shoes, and coats through Europe. They think him the best-dressed man, whose dress is so fit for his use, that you cannot notice, or remember, or describe it. They secure the essentials in their diet, in their arts, and manufactures. Every article of cutlery shows, in its shape,


thought and long experience of workmen. They put the expense in the right place; as in their sea steamers, in the solidity of their machinery, and the strength of the boat. The admirable management of their Arctic ships carries London to the pole. They build roads, aqueducts, warm and ventilate houses. And they have impressed their directness and practical habit on modern civilization. Emerson.

ENGLISH-Superiority of the.

The English, by reason of their temperate climate, mild air, plenty of wholesome food, and the use of beer rather than wine, are commonly tall and big of stature. If compared with southern nations, they are fair, especially the women, whose beauties are lasting, shapes fine, mien agreeable, air sweet and charming. Both sexes are here well-proportioned in body, and graceful in carriage, grave, well spoken, prudent, modest, free, sincere, pleasant, ingenuous. The men are strong, courageous, warlike, resolute, enterprising, constant, not

knowing how to fly in battle, liberal to prodigality, open-hearted, hard to be provoked, yet, when exasperated, stomachful till satisfaction be given, and then easy to be reconciled, sumptuous and splendid, great lovers of hospitality, magnanimous and beneficent, learned, sagacious, grateful. They are thought to be wanting in industry (excepting mechanics, wherein they are, of all nations, the greatest improvers), caution, suspicion, craft, obsequiousness, and which is more than all to be deplored, contentedness. But these wants are supplied by many eminent qualifications, as dexterity, sagacity, eloquence, fidelity, friendship, and public spiritedness. The daringness of the soldier, the profoundness of the scholar, the magnificence of the gentry, the robustness of the labourer, are not surpassed, if equalled, by any people in the world. The women are tender, chaste, constant, prudent, loyal, industrious, passionately loving to their relations, especially their husbands and children, even to fondness. They are not without vanity, pretensions to satire, raillery, and the like; but no women outdo them in modesty, patience, charity, providential care, temperance, wit, good humour, cleanliness, and that which crowns all the rest, in the sincerity and zeal of religious devotion. Good-nature is a qualification peculiar to the English, so peculiar that, as a noble writer observes, there is no word for it in any other language. To conclude, the inhabitants of England are generally of a warm and elevated genius, of brisk and solid parts, apprehensive and subtle, successful in finding out new discoveries, but most of all in improving of old, especially mechanics, there


being few curiosities of art brought here from beyond sea, but are here improved to a greater height. Written temp. Queen Anne. ENGLISH LANGUAGE-Powers of the. The English language has a veritable power of expression, such as, perhaps, never stood at the command of any other language of men. Its highly spiritual genius and wonderfully happy development and condition, have been the result of a surprisingly intimate union of the Teutonic and the Romaic. It is well | tke two noblest languages in modern Europe, known in what relation these two stand to one another in the English tongue; the former supplying, in far larger proportion, the material groundwork; the latter, the spiritual conceptions. In truth, the English language, which by no mere accident has produced and upborne the greatest and most predominant poet of modern times, as distinguished from the ancient classical poetry (I can, of course, only mean Shakspeare), may, with all right, English people, appears destined hereafter to be called a world language, and, like the prevail with a sway more extensive even than its present, over all the portions of the globe. For in wealth, good sense, and closeness of structure, no other of the languages at this day spoken deserves to be compared with it, not even our German, which is torn, even as defects before it can enter boldly into the we are torn, and must first rid itself of many lists as a competitor with the English. Grimm. ENGLISHMAN-Social Advantages of


In the social world an Englishman to-day has the best lot. He is a king in a plain coat. He goes with the most powerful protection, keeps the best company, is armed by the best education, is seconded by wealth; and his English name and accidents are like a flourish of trumpets announcing him. This, with his quiet style of manners, gives him the power of a sovereign without the inconveniences which belong to that rank. I much prefer the condition of an English gentleman, of the better class, to that of any potentate in Europe, whether for travel or for opportunity of society, or for access to means of science or study, or for mere comfort and easy healthy relation to people at home. Emerson. ENGLISHMAN-Vigour of an.

I find the Englishman to be him of all men who stands firmest in their shoes. They have in themselves what they value in their horses,mettle and bottom. On the day of my arrival in Liverpool, a gentleman, in describing the lord lieutenant of Ireland, happened to say,


ENJOYMENT-of a Good Conscience. Light as a gossamer is the circumstance which can bring enjoyment to a conscience which is not its own accuser.


"Lord Clarendon has pluck like a cock, and
will fight till he dies;" and what I heard first
I heard last; and the one thing the English
value, is-pluck. The cabmen have it; the
merchants have it; the bishops have it; the
women have it; the journals have it; the Times
newspaper, they say, is the pluckiest thing in
It requires, men
say, a good constitution to travel in Spain. I
say as much of England, for other cause, simply
on account of the vigour and brawn of the
people. Nothing but the most serious business ENJOYMENT-limited by Providence.

could give one any counter-weight to these
Baresarks, though they were only to order eggs
and muffins for their breakfast. The English-set
man speaks with all his body. His elocution
is stomachic, as the American's is labial. The
Englishman is very petulant and precise about
his accommodation at inns, and on the roads;
a quibble about his toast and his chop, and
every species of convenience, and loud and
pungent in his expressions of impatience at
any neglect. His vivacity betrays itself at all
points,-in his manners, in his respiration, and
the inarticulate noise he makes in clearing the
throat; all significant of burly strength. He
has stamina; he can take the initiative in
emergencies. He has that aplomb which
results from a good adjustment of the moral
and physical nature, and the obedience of all
the powers to the will; as if the axes of his
eyes were united to his backbone, and only
moved with the trunk.

William Carleton. ENJOYMENT-the Gift of Heaven.

It is something to look upon enjoyment, so that it be free and wild, and in the face of nature, though it is but the enjoyment of an idiot. It is something to know that Heaven has left the capacity of gladness in such a creature's breast; it is something to be assured that, however lightly men may crush that faculty in their fellows, the great Creator of Mankind imparts it even to His despised and slighted work. Who would not rather see a poor idiot happy in the sunlight, than a wise man pining in a darkened jail?

Ye men of gloom and austerity, who paint the face of Infinite Benevolence with an eternal frown, read in the Everlasting Book, wide open to your view, the lesson it would teach. Its pictures are not in black and sombre hues, but bright and glowing tints; its music-save when ye drown it-is not in sighs and groans,

but songs and cheerful sounds. Listen to the million voices in the summer air, and find one dismal as your own. Rememoer, if ye can, the sense of hope and pleasure which every glad return of day awakens in the breast of all your kind who have not changed their nature; and learn some wisdom even from the witless, when their hearts are lifted up they know not why, by all the mirth and happiness it brings. Dickens.

Providence has fixed the limits of human enjoyment by immovable boundaries, and has different gratifications at such a distance from each other, that no art or power can bring them together. This great law it is the business of every rational being to understand, that life may not pass away in an attempt to make contradictions consistent, to combine opposite qualities, and to unite things which the nature of their being must always keep asunder. Johnson. ENJOYMENT-Rational Pursuit of.

All solitary enjoyments quickly pall, or become painful, so that, perhaps, no more insufferable misery can be conceived than that which must follow incommunicable privileges. Only imagine a human being condemned to perpetual youth while all around him decay and die. Oh! how sincerely would he call upon death for deliverance! What, then, is to be done? Are we to struggle against all our desires? Luckily, we should strive in vain, or, could we succeed, we should be fools for our pains. To strangle a natural feeling is a partial suicide; but there is no need to extinguish the fertility of the soil lest the harvest should be unwholesome. Is it not better far to root up the weeds, and to plant fruits and flowers instead? Were but a tithe of the time and thought usually spent in learning the commonest accomplishments bestowed upon regulating our lives, how many evils would be avoided or lessened! how many pleasures would be created or increased!


All real and wholesome enjoyments possible to man have been just as possible to him since first he was made of the earth as they are now; and they are possible to him chiefly in peace. To watch the corn grow and the blossom set, to draw hard breath over ploughshare and spade, to read, to think, to love, to hope, to pray-these are the things to make man happy; they have always had the power of doing these- they never will have power to do more. Ruskin.

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ENVIER-never Envied.
Thou enviest all; but no man envies thee.
R. Wynne.

ENVY-is Blind.

Envy is blind, and has no other quality but that of detracting from virtue. Livy.

ENVY-Destructiveness of.
Envy the rottenness of the bones.

ENVY-Corruptiveness of.

As rust corrupts iron, so envy corrupts man.
ENVY-conquered only by Death.
Envy is not to be conquered but by death.


ENVY-Destructiveness of.

O envy! hide thy bosom, bide it deep:

A thousand snakes, with black envenomed mouths,

Nest there, and hiss, and feed through all thy heart! Pollok.

ENVY-admits of no Excuse.

Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it, or will admit of some excuse; but envy wants both: we should strive against it, for if indulged in, it will be to us as a foretaste of hell upon earth. Burton.

ENVY-Feelings of.

Now I feel
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded—envy.
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wauton
Ye appear in everything may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You've Christian warrant for them, and, no

In time will find your fit rewards. Shakspeare.
ENVY-implies Inferiority.

We ought to be guarded against every appearance of envy, as a passion that always implies inferiority, wherever it resides. Pling. ENVY-Mendacity of.

Lo! ill-rejoicing Envy, wing'd with lies,
Scattering calumnious rumours as she flies,
The steps of miserable men pursue,
With haggard aspect, blasting to the view.

Envy is a weed that grows in all soils and climates, and is no less luxuriant in the country than in the court; is not confined to any rank of men or extent of fortune, but rages in the breasts of all degrees. Alexander was not prouder than Diogenes; and it may be, if we would endeavour to surprise it in its most gaudy dress and attire, and in the exercise of its full empire and tyranny, we should find it in schoolmasters and scholars, or in some country lady, or the knight, her husband; all which ranks of people more despise their neighbours than all the degrees of honour in which courts abound; and it rages as much in a sordid affected dress as in Solomon. all the silks and embroideries which the excess


ENVY-Mistakes of.

We are often infinitely mistaken, and take the falsest measures, when we envy the hap piness of rich and great men; we know not the inward canker that eats out all their joy and delight, and makes them really much more miserable than ourselves. Bishop Hail. ENVY-Detestable Qualities of.

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of the age and the folly of youth delight to be adorned with. Since then it keeps all sorts of company, and wriggles itself into the liking of the most contrary natures and dispositions, and yet carries so much poison and venom with it, that it alienates the affections from heaven, and raises rebellion against God him. self; it is worth our utmost care to watch it in all its disguises and approaches, that we may discover it in its first entrance, and dislodge it before it procures a shelter or retiring place to lodge and conceal itself. Lord Clarendon. ENVY-coupled with Revenge.

The greatest flood has the soonest ebb; the sorest tempest the most sudden calm; the hottest love the coldest end; and from the deepest desire oftentimes ensues the deadliest bate. A wise man had rather be envied for providence, than pitied for prodigality. Revenge barketh only at the stars, and spite purns at that she cannot reach. An envious man waxeth lean with the fatness of his neighbours. Envy is the daughter of pride, the author of murder and revenge, the beginner of secret sedition, and the perpetual tormentor of virtue. Envy is the filthy slime of the soul; a venom, a poison, or quicksilver which consumeth the flesh, and drieth up the marrow of the bones. Socrates.

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In some unlucky dispositions, there is such an envious kind of pride, that they cannot endure that any but themselves should be set forth for excellent: so when they hear one justly praised, they will either seek to dismount his virtues: or, if they be like a clear night, eminent, they will stab him with a but of detraction: as if there were something yet so foul, as did obnubilate even his brightest glory. Thus when their tongue cannot justly condemn him, they will leave him in suspected ill, by silence. Surely, if we considered detraction to be bred of envy, nested only in deficient minds, we should find that the applauding of virtue would win us far more honour than the seeking slyly to disparage it. That would show we loved what we commended, while this tells the world we grudge at what we want in ourselves. Feltham.

ENVY-an Ill-natured Vice.

Envy is an ill-natured vice, and is made up of meanness and malice. It wishes the force of goodness to be strained, and the measure of happiness abated. It laments over prosperity, and sickens at the sight of health. It oftentimes wants spirit as well as good-nature. Jeremy Collier.


An epigrammatist is a poet of small wares, whose muse is short-winded, and quickly out of breath. She flies like a goose, that is no sooner upon the wing, but down again. He was originally one of those authors that used to write upon white walls, from whence his works, being collected and put together, pass in the world, like single money among those who deal in small matters. His wit is like fire in a flint, that is nothing while it is in, and nothing again as soon as it is out. He is a kind of vagabond writer, that is never out of his way, for nothing is beside the purpose with him, that purposes none at all. His works are like a running banquet, that have much variety but little of a sort; for he deals in nothing but scraps and parcels, like a tailor's



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