WORKS.

barber to become Sir Richard Arkwright, inventor of the spinning jenny;-Beattie the schoolmaster to become Professor of Moral Philosophy;-Prideaux to become the Bishop of Winchester from being the assistant in the kitchen at Exeter College; -Edmund Saunders the errand lad to become Sir Edmund Saunders, Chief Justice of the King's Bench ;-Jonson the common bricklayer to become Ben Jonson the famous ; -Adrian VI. to rise to his great fame as a scholar from being a poor lad in the streets, who for want of other convenience had to read by the lamps in the church porches ;Parkes the grocer's, and Davy the apothecary's apprentice, to become so celebrated as chemists;-Dr. Isaac Milner, Dean of Carlisle and Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge, to rise from the humble position of a weaver; and White, who was also a weaver, to become Professor of Arabic at Oxford;-Hunter the cabinet-maker to attain the first rank among anatomists? Incredible labour enabled Demosthenes to become the greatest orator of antiquity. "The Economy of Human Life" and "The Annual Register" were the production of Dodsley, who by labour raised himself from the position of a weaver and a footman. Labour enabled Falconer, the barber's son, to write his celebrated poem of "The Shipwreck." The editor of "The Quarterly Review," Gifford, acquired the needed capability from being a cabin-boy and shoemaker's apprentice; Haydn, the son of a poor cartwright, to become the eminent musical composer; Johnson, through sickness and poverty, to become the immortal linguist; Jeremy Taylor, a barber's son, to become theologian and prelate; Barry, from a working mason, to become the renowned painter. Dr. Livingstone has attained his celebrity from being a "piecer" in a factory. Indeed, if we read the lives of distinguished men in any department, we find them celebrated for the amount of labour they could perform. There is no exception to this rule even in the military profession. Julius Caesar, Henry IV. of France, Washington, Napoleon, and Wellington, were all renowned as hard workers. We read how many days they could support the fatigues of a march; how many hours they spent in the field, in the cabinet, in the court; how many secretaries they kept employed;-in short, how hard they worked. Superficial thinkers are ready to cry out— "Miracles!" True; but they are miracles of industry and of labour.-J. JOHNSON. WORKS.-Good

Good works have their proper place. They justify our faith, though not our persons; they follow it, and evidence our

Great works, undertaken for ostentation, miss of their end, and turn to the author's shame; if not, the transitions of time wear out their engraved names, and they last not much longer than Caligula's bridge over the Baja. What is become of the Mausoleum, or the ship-bestriding Colossus? Where is Marcus Scaurus's Theatre, the bituminated walls of Babylon? and how little rests of the Egyptian Pyramids! And of these, how divers are the reports given of their builders-some ascribing them to one, some to another!-FELTHAM.

WORLD.-Carrying the

In the morning, we carry the world like Atlas; at noon, we stoop and bend beneath it; and at night, it crushes us flat to the ground.-H. W. BEECHER.

WORLD. -The Christian and the

The bird of paradise, which has such a dower of exquisitely beautiful feathers, cannot fly with the wind; if it attempt to do so, the current, being much swifter than its flight, so ruffles its plumage as to impede its progress, and finally to terminate it: it is therefore compelled to fly against the wind, which keeps its feathers in their place, and thus it gains the place where it would be. So the Christian must not attempt to go with the current of a sinful world; if he does, it will not only hinder, but end his religious progress; but he must go against it, and then every effort of his soul will surely be upward, heavenward, Godward.-DR. DAVIES.

WORLD.-Dissatisfied with the

When I reflect upon what I have seen, what I have heard, what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all that frivolous hurry and bustle and pleasure of the world had any reality; and I look on what has passed as one of those wild dreams which opium occasions, and I by no means wish to repeat the nauseous dose for the sake of the fugitive illusion.-CHESTERFIELD.

WORLD.-The Four Quarters of the

Europe derives its name from Europa, daughter of Agenor, king of Phoenicia. Asia, from Asia, the wife of Prometheus, and daughter of Oceanus. Africa, from Ophir, the grandson of Abraham. America, from Americus Vesputius.-E. DAVIES.

WORLD.

WORLD. -Good and Evil in the

There is good in the world, and there is evil. There is sunshine warming the earth into life, and ripening its kindly fruits; and there are torrid heats and blasting droughts, when "the earth lies parched, and the cattle die, and there is destruction and pestilence issuing as from the sun itself." There are genial showers and fructifying rains, that cause the trees to clap their hands, and the valleys to shout for joy; and there are torrents that uproot the forests, and lay waste the fields ;floods that sweep away the harvests, and desolate the homes of men;-lightning, and hail, and tempest, that in one brief moment destroy the work of years, and devour flocks, and herds, and families. There is the joy of birth, and the gloom and aching sorrow of death. There is the gush of gladsome life,-the hum of insects, the song of birds, the mirth and music of unfettered hearts; and there is pain and moaning in the chamber of disease, -in the hovel of want, and there are stifled sobs around the closing coffin, and there are new-made graves wet with scalding tears. The stars sing out their perpetual rhythm of peace and joy; and the winds wail and howl as they scatter the leaves of summer, and bring up the clouds and chill of winter. And not the seasons only, but the days as well mark this alternation. Is there not the night also? How weak, and in the hands of what unknown powers, does man feel himself to be, when, deprived of light, he looks, or strives to look, out into an infinite darkness! The night is around him, and death before him.THORNDALE.

WORLD.

my imagination was warm, and I happened to be in a melancholy mood, it distressed me to think of going into a state of being in which Shakspeare's poetry did not exist. A lady, whom I then much admired, a very amiable woman, humoured my fancy, and relieved me by saying-"The first thing you will meet with in the other world will be an elegant copy of Shakspeare's works presented to you."-BOSWELL.

WORLD.-Love for the

I would not slight this wondrous world. I love its day and night. Its flowers and its fruits are dear to me. I would not wilfully lose sight of a departing cloud. Every year opens new beauty in a star, or in a purple gentian fringed with loveliness. The laws, too, of matter seem more wonderful the more I study them; in the whirling eddies of the dust, in the curious shells of former life buried by thousands in a grain of chalk, or in the shining diagrams of light above my head. the ugly becomes beautiful when truly seen. I see the beautiful in the bunchy toad. The more I live, the more I love this little world; feel more its Author in each little thing-in all that's great.-T. PARKER.

Even

me;

stood

WORLD.

WORLD.-The Way to Rise above the

We may rise above the world, not merely in the transcendency of faith, but in the fearfulness of pusillanimity, and in the repulsion of misanthropy.-DR. RALEIGH.

WORLD.-Weary of the

Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry,-
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn
And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And genius checked by harsh authority,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill :
Tir'd with all these, from these would I be
gone,

Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
SHAKSPEARE.
WORSHIP.-Meaning of the Word-

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The English word-"worship," did not originally bear that meaning which it bears almost exclusively in modern language. Its original form was "wortship," and when it was in that form it was not applied to religious acts. A " place of worship" was any house of a better sort, as when an old Easter sermon says-" Good friends, ye shall know well that this day is called in many places God's Sunday. Know well that it is the manner in every place of worship at this day to do the fire out of the hall; and the black winter brand, and all that is foul with smoke, shall be done away, and where the fire was shall be arrayed with fair flowers." Such a usage of the word remains also in the manner of address used to magistrates— 'your worship;" in the title of "Worshipful" Companies; and in the words of the bridegroom to the bride in the Marriage Service, with my body I thee worship i.e. honour, but not of course with the honour paid to God). But when the English Bible began to solidify English forms of speech, the word was beginning to be more generally used in a religious sense. And to give it a distinctive meaning when thus used for the service of the Lord's house, the word "Divine" was added; so that "Divine Worship" came to be a common expression for all devotional acts and words publicly offered to Almighty God in His house, such as the Sacrifices and Temple Services of the Jews, and the Sacraments and Church Services of Christians.-J. H. BLUNT.

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WORSHIP.-Public

Public worship is the nearest resemblance of heaven.-CLARKSON.

WORSHIP.-Spiritual

All worship to be acceptable must be

Small as thou art, thou gem-like bird!
Yet thou hast made thy nest on high;
And there thy warbling voice is heard,
Singing thy children's lullaby.
Lovely bird! with thy golden crown,
A kind and tender nurse art thou,
Making thy nest of moss and down,

And hanging it on the bending bough; There, rocked by the wave of the zephyr's wings,

Amid the green branches it lightly swings; And a few clustering leaves of the foresttree,

Will serve to shelter thy cradle and thee; Concealing thee safely from every eye, Until danger and fear have pass'd thee by SIR W. SCOTT.

WRINKLES.-Deeds Indicated by

The wrinkles on his forehead are the marks which his mighty deeds have engraved, and still indicate what he was in former days.-Corneille.

WRITE-Soon.

"Write soon!" oh, sweet request of Truth! How tenderly its accents come! We heard it first in early youth,

When mothers watched us leaving home.

The pressing hand, the steadfast eye,

Are both less earnest than the boon Which, fervently, the last fond sigh Begs in the hopeful words-" Write soon!" Cook.

WRITER.-A Tedious

He is not one who uses too many words, but one who uses many words to little purpose. Where the sense keeps pace with the words, though these be numerous, or drawn out into long periods, I am not tired with him; but when his expression goes on

WRITERS.

while the sense stands still, I am out of patience with him. -BP. HURD.

WRITERS.-Borrowing from Ancient

Whatever our conjectures may be, we cannot be sure that the best modern writers can afford us as good models as the ancients; we cannot be certain that they will live through the revolutions of the world, and continue to please in every climate-under every species of government-through every stage of civilization. We may still borrow descriptive power from Tacitus; dignified perspicuity from Livy; simplicity from Cæsar; and from Homer some portion of that light and heat which, dispersed into ten thousand channels, has filled the world with bright images and illustrious thoughts. Let the cultivator of modern literature addict himself to the purest models of taste which France, Italy, and England could supply, he might still learn from Virgil to be majestic, and from Tibullus to be tender; he might not yet look upon the face of nature as Theocritus saw it; nor might he reach those springs of pathos with which Euripides softened the hearts of his audience.-S. SMITH.

WRITING.-The Ancient Mode of

The most ancient mode of writing was on bricks, tiles, and oyster-shells, and on tables of stone; afterwards on plates of various materials, on ivory, on barks of trees, and on leaves of trees.-I. DISRAELI.

WRITING.--Ease in

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,

As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance. POPE.

WRITING.-Frothy

Sounding brass and tinkling cymbals are descriptions of it truly emblematic. If there is any sweetness, it is that which clogs and makes you sick; if there is any brightness, it is that which dazzles and gives you pain; if there is any gold, it is that which has been expanded to an almost impalpable superfice, under the operation of the goldbeater. This species of style is well described as frothy; but, as a means of supplying aliment, or as a constant diet, what is a syllabub to a sirloin ?-DR. KNOX.

WRITING.-The Present Mode of

It is most strange that we who excel our progenitors so far in science, literature, and commerce, should continue to use the mode of writing they have handed down to

us.

Our usual method of communication, by its complexity, obliges the readiest hand

WRITING.

to spend at least six hours in writing what can be spoken in one.-I. PITMAN. WRITING.-Wonder Expressed at

In the erection of the chapel at Raratonga a circumstance occurred which will give a striking idea of the feelings of an untaught people, when observing, for the first time, the effects of written communications. As I had come to the work one morning without my square, I took up a chip, and with a piece of charcoal wrote upon it a request that Mrs. Williams would send me that article. I called a chief, who was superintending his portion of the work, and said to him" Friend, take this, go to our house, and give it to Mrs. Williams." He was a singular-looking man, remarkably quick in his movements, and had been a great warrior; but in one of the numerous battles he had fought had lost an eye, and giving me an inexpressible look with the other, he said-"Take that! she will call me a fool, and scold me if I carry a chip to her." No," I replied, she will not: take it, and go immediately, I am in haste." Perceiving me to be in earnest, he took it, and asked-"What must I say?" I replied "You have nothing to say; the chip will say all I wish." With a look of astonishment and contempt he held up the piece of wood, and said "How can this speak? Has this a mouth?" I desired him to take it immediately, and not spend so much time in talking about it. On arriving at the house he gave the chip to Mrs. Williams, who read it, threw it away, and went to the tool-chest, whither the chief, resolving to see the result of this mysterious proceeding, followed her closely. On receiving the square from her, he saidStay, daughter; how do you know that this is what Mr. Williams wants?"

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Why," she replied, "did you not bring me a chip just now?" "Yes," said the astonished warrior; "but I did not hear it say anything." "If you did not I did," was the reply; "for it made known to me what he wanted, and all you have to do is to return with it as quickly as possible." With this the chief leaped out of the house, and, catching up the mysterious piece of wood, he ran through the settlement, with the chip in one hand and the square in the other, holding them up as high as his arms would reach, and shouting as he went

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See the wisdom of these English people; they can make chips talk! they can make chips talk!" On giving me the square, he wished to know how it was possible thus to converse with persons at a distance. I gave him all the explanation in my power; but it was a circumstance involved in so much mystery that he actually tied a string to the

So cruel and fickle was Xerxes, that he crowned his footmen in the morning, and beheaded them in the evening of the same day. But he was not alone in these atrocities. Hence many have been kings in the morning, and worse than slaves by night, and have said of their symbol of elevation and rule-"O crown! more noble than happy!"-ARVINE.

XERXES.-The Tears of

As Xerxes stood on a lofty eminence, and his eagle eye swept over the immense army in the plain beneath him, brilliant in attire, courageous in spirit, and panting, like himself, for martial glory, the thought that not one of that vast multitude would be alive one hundred years after, so oppressed his great soul, that he burst into a flood of tears. But that thought and those tears neither curbed his towering ambition, nor softened the awful hardness of his heart. Both together might have transformed him into an angel; alas! they left him the very reverse!-DR. DAVIES.

YEAR. The

Y.

The year is but a quick succession of brief moments.-ZSCHOKKE.

YEAR.

YEAR.-The Address of the Dying

If we might for a moment personify the dying year in his last days, we should picture him a little shrivelled old man-shrivelled as one of his grandsire's winter pipe pins-piping in the shrill treble of extreme age, and uttering an experience strongly resembling that of human life. "Listen to me, mortals!" he might say, with the same emphasis with which the old, wise by experience, say the like to the young, who will never be wise without it :-"Listen to me, ye mortals! for I also am of the race of the ephemerals. I had my sturdy youth, when it seemed that my life would never end; and I dug, and ploughed, and planted, and enjoyed my jocund prime and my golden summer; and I decked myself in the garlands of May, and reaped the yellow harvest, and gathered the purple vintage of autumn; but scarcely had I attained the object of my desires, and secured the plenty for which I laboured, than I found the shadows lengthening, and the days shortening, and my breath growing short with them, and decrepitude coming upon me, and the days at hand of which I said—' I have no pleasure in them.' I have laid up riches and know not who shall gather them; have planted trees which must shade far distant years, and stored the vintage of which other years must drink."-PROF. ROGERS.

YEAR.-The Adjustment of the

One can no more reflect upon the exact adjustment of the year to the cycle of plants, insects, and animals, without believing that they were adjusted for each other, than he could believe a watch, which required to be wound up at night, was designedly adjusted for a day. -DR. BREWER.

YEAR.-The Death of the Old
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,

And the winter winds are wearily sighing;
Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow,
And tread softly, and speak low,
For the Old Year lies a-dying.

Old Year, you must not die!
You came to us so readily,
You lived with us so steadily,
Old Year, you shall not die!

He lieth still-he doth not move-
He will not see the dawn of day;
He hath no other life above-
He gave me a friend and a true true-love,
And the New Year will take 'em away.
Old Year, you must not go!
So long as you have been with us,
Such joy as you have seen with us,
Old Year, you shall not go!