Admiration
Admiration is not approval and it is not flattery. It is the body's recognition that someone else has gotten something right — the chest lifting slightly, the attention turning fully outward, the self briefly content to be the witness rather than the witnessed. Vela reads admiration as one of the social emotions that builds a life: who one admires shapes who one becomes.
Working definition · Esteem or appreciative warmth directed at another person, act, or quality.
5752 passages · 5 Vela essays · in 1 cluster
Vela’s read on this emotion
Admiration is the social emotion most likely to be confused with its weaker cousins. Approval is conditional; admiration is unconditional. Flattery is performed; admiration is involuntary. Envy is the corruption of admiration when the witness cannot bear the other's having gotten it right; admiration itself is the un-corrupted form — the witness content to have seen.
The memoir reads admiration where it is least guarded. Gloria Steinem's *My Life on the Road* tracks the women she came up admiring — Wilma Mankiller, Florynce Kennedy, the organizers whose names did not make the news — and is honest that admiration is what taught her to do the work at all. Trevor Noah's *Born a Crime* writes his mother's admiration-shape as the inheritance: a child learns what counts as a serious life by watching the adult who is leading one. Tara Westover's *Educated* preserves admiration's complications — the long work of admiring teachers and writers who taught her things her family had refused to.
The contemplative literature treats admiration as a discipline of seeing. Augustine of Hippo, writing the *Confessions* in the late fourth century, named admiration of God as the corrective for admiration of the self. Saint-Exupéry's *The Little Prince* turns admiration toward the small and the easily overlooked. The biographical tradition — Plutarch, Boswell, the modern memoir — exists in part to make admiration usable: the admired life rendered specific enough to learn from.
Admiration is not the same as approval, awe, envy, or flattery. Approval is the conditional acknowledgment that someone has met a standard; admiration is the unconditional recognition that they have exceeded one. Awe is the more disproportionate cousin — the witness flooded rather than steadied. Envy is admiration that cannot bear its own subordination. Flattery is the performance of admiration without its substance.
Study and magazine
Long-form guide in the magazine
An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.
Read the guidePassages
Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.
Page 207 of 288 · 20 per page
5752 tagged passages
From The Great Transformation (2006)
Instead of being imprisoned in a parochially selfish point of view, he acquired an intuitive grasp of the deeper principles of government. He who has such enlightenment may sit in his room and view the entire area within the four seas, may dwell in the present and yet discourse on distant ages. He has a penetrating insight into all beings and understands their true nature, studies the ages of order and disorder and comprehends the principle behind them. He surveys all Heaven and Earth, governs all beings, and masters the great principle and all that is in the universe. 28 His intelligence had become “godlike” (shen). The Legalists had not been ambitious enough. A reformed person was not simply a cog in the economic or military machine, but a divine being. “Broad and vast—who knows the limits of such a man?” Xunzi asked. “Brilliant and comprehensive—who knows his virtue? Shadowy and ever changing—who knows his form? His brightness matches the sun and moon; his greatness fills the eight directions. Such is the Great Man.” 29 A man who had fulfilled the potential of his humanity in this way could save the world. Nobody took Xunzi’s political ideas very seriously, but by the middle of the third century, everybody was talking about another mystical manual of statecraft that immediately attracted widespread attention. 30 The Legalists in particular warmed to this new text. The Daodejing (Classic of the Way and Its Potency) has become a popular devotional classic in the West, even though it was not originally written for a private individual but for the ruler of a small state. We know very little indeed about its author, who wrote under the pseudonym Laozi, “Old Master.” Various stories circulated about him, none of which have much historical validity, and the author, whose theme is anonymity and selflessness, has eluded us, as he probably would have wished. The Daodejing consists of eighty-one small chapters, written in enigmatic verse. Even though Laozi was far more spiritual than the Legalists, there was an affinity between them, which the Legalists spotted immediately. Both despised the Confucians; both had a paradoxical view of the world, in which goals could be achieved only by pursuing their opposites; and both believed that the ruler should “do nothing” and intervene as little as possible in the life of the state. Unlike the Legalists, Laozi wanted his king to be virtuous, but not like a Confucian sage, who was endlessly trying to do things for his people. Instead, a prince who practiced the self-effacement and total impartiality of wu wei would bring the violence of the Warring States period to an end. The ancient kings, it was said, had ruled by the magical potency that established the Way of Heaven on earth by performing a series of external ceremonies. Laozi internalized these old rites, and advised the princes to acquire an interior, spiritualized conformity with the Way.
From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)
But it operates of itself in highly-gifted minds without any deliberation, spontaneously collecting analogous instances, uniting in a moment whet in nature the whole breadth of space and time keeps separate, and so permitting a, perception of identical points in the midst of different circumstances, which minds governed wholly by the law of contiguity could never begin to attain. Figure 80 shows this. If m, in the present representation A, calls up B, C, D, and E, which are similar to A in possessing it, and calls them up in rapid succession, then m, being associated almost simultaneously with such varying concomitants, will 'roll out' and attract our separate notice. If so much is clear to the reader, he will be willing to admit that the mind in which this mode of association most prevails will, from its better opportunity of extricating characters, be the one most prone to reasoned thinking; whilst, on the other hand, a mind in which we do not detect reasoned thinking will probably be one in which association by contiguity holds almost exclusive sway. Geniuses are, by common consent, considered to differ from ordinary minds by an unusual development of association by similarity. One of Professor Bain's best strokes of work is the exhibition of this truth. [350] It applies to geniuses in the line of reasoning as well as in other lines. And as the genius is to the vulgarian, so the vulgar human mind is to the intelligence of a brute. Compared with men, it is probable that brutes neither attend to abstract characters, nor have associations by similarity. Their thoughts probably pass from one concrete object to its habitual concrete successor far more uniformly than is the case with us. In other words, their associations of ideas are almost exclusively by contiguity. It will clear up still farther our understanding of the reasoning process, if we devote a few pages to THE INTELLECTUAL CONTRAST BETWEEN BRUTE AND MAN. I will first try to show, by taking the best stories I can find of animal sagacity, that the mental process involved may as a rule be perfectly accounted for by mere contiguous association, based on experience. Mr. Darwin, in his 'Descent of Man,' instances the Arctic dogs, described by Dr. Hayes, who scatter, when drawing a sledge, as soon as the ice begins to crack. This might be called by some an exercise of reason.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Under Paul II., the Humanists of the papal household had hard times, as the treatment of Platina shows. Sixtus IV., 1471–1484, has a place in the history of the Vatican library, which he transferred to four new and beautiful halls. He endowed it with a permanent fund, provided for Latin, Greek and Hebrew copyists, appointed as librarians two noted scholars, Bussi and Platina, and separated the books from the archives.1011 The light-hearted Leo X., a normal product of the Renaissance, honored Bembo and other literati, but combined the patronage of frivolous with serious literature. In a letter printed in the first edition of the first six books of the Annals of Tacitus, 1515,—discovered in the Westphalian convent of Corbay, 1508,—he wrote that "from his earliest years he had been accustomed to think that, if we except the knowledge and worship of God Himself, nothing more excellent or more useful had been given by the Creator to mankind than classical studies which not only lead to the ornament and guidance of human life, but are applicable and useful to every particular situation." As a characteristic development of the Italian Renaissance must be mentioned the so-called academies of Florence, Rome and Naples. These institutions corresponded somewhat to our modern scientific associations. The most noted of them, the Platonic Academy of Florence, was founded by Cosimo de’ Medici, and embraced among its members the principal men of Florence and some strangers. It celebrated the birthday of Plato, November 13, with a banquet and a discussion of his writings. It revived and diffused the knowledge of the sublime truths of Platonism, and then gave way to other academies in Florence of a more literary and social character.1012 Its brightest fame was reached under Lorenzo. The academy at Rome, which had Pomponius Laetus for its founder, did not confine itself to the study of Plato and philosophy, but had a more general literary aim. The meetings were devoted to classical discussions and the presentation of orations and plays. Although Laetus was half a pagan, Alexander VI. was represented at his funeral, 1498, by members of his court. Cardinal Sadoleto in the 16th century reckoned the Roman academy among the best teachers of his youth. The academy at Naples, developed by Jovianus Pontanus, devoted itself chiefly to matters of style. The Florentine academy has been well characterized by Professor Jebb as predominantly philosophic, the Roman as antiquarian and the Neapolitan as literary.1013 § 65. Greek Teachers and Italian Humanists.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Several facts operated to bring it about. First, that all but five of the bishops of Tours had been members of his family (Euphronius whom he succeeded was his mother’s cousin), and further, that he was in Tours on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Martin to recover his health about the time of Euphronius’ death, and by his life there secured the love of the people. Add to this his travels, his austerities, his predominant love for religion, and his election is explained.1002 Gregory found the position no sinecure. War broke out between Sigebert and the savage Chilperic, and Tours was taken by the latter in 575. Confusion and anarchy prevailed. Churches were destroyed, ecclesiastics killed. Might made right, and the weak went to the wall. But in that dark and tempestuous time Gregory of Tours shines like a beacon light. The persecuted found in him a refuge; the perplexed a guide; the wicked king a determined opponent. Vigilant, sleepless, untiring in his care for Tours he averted an attempt to tax it unjustly; he maintained the sanctuary rights of St. Martin against all avengers; and he put an end to partisan strifes. His influence was exerted in the neighboring country. Such was his well earned repute for holiness founded upon innumerable services that the lying accusation of Leudastes at the council of Braine (580) excited popular indignation and was refuted by his solemn declaration of innocence.1003 In 584 Chilperic died. Tours then fell to Guntram, king of Orleans, until in 587 it was restored to Childebert, the son of Sigebert. The last nine years of Gregory’s life were comparatively quiet. He enjoyed the favor of Guntram and Childebert, did much to beautify the city of Tours, built many churches, and particularly the church of St. Martin (590). But at length the time of his release came, and on Nov. 17, 594, he went to his reward. His saintship was immediately recognized by the people he had served, and the Latin Church formally beatified and canonized him. His day in the calendar is November l7. The Works of Gregory were all produced while bishop. Their number attests his diligence, but their style proves the correctness of his own judgment that he was not able to write good Latin. Only one is of real importance, but that is simply inestimable, as it is the only abundant source for French history of the fifth and sixth centuries. It is the Ecclesiastical History of the Franks, in ten books,1004 begun in 576, and not finished until 592. By reason of it Gregory has been styled the Herodotus of France. It was his object to tell the history of his own times for the benefit of posterity, although he was aware of his own unfitness for the task. But like the chroniclers of the period he must needs begin with Adam, and it is not till the close of the first book that the history of Gaul properly begins.
From A History of Christianity (1976)
During the 1930s George Bell, Anglican Bishop of Chichester, had been in touch with the anti-Nazi group in the Evangelical Church, and in particular with Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer. When war broke out he tried hard to combat the mindless Christian patriotism which, in 1914, had reinforced the hatreds on both sides. Indeed, he was one of the few Christian prelates in either of the world wars who tried to think out what a Churchman ought to do in these circumstances. In November 1939 he published an article, ‘The Church’s Function in Wartime’, in the Fortnightly Review, which argued that it was essential that the Church should remain the Church, and not ‘the state’s spiritual auxilliary’. It should define basic principles of conduct, and ‘not hesitate . . . to condemn the infliction of reprisals, or the bombing of civilian populations, by the military forces of its own nation. It should set itself against the propaganda of lies and hatred. It should be ready to encourage the resumption of friendly relations with the enemy nation. It should set its face against any war of extermination or enslavement, and any measures directly aimed to destroy the morale of a population.’ Bell did his best to live up to these principles, all of which were broken by the Allies with the knowledge and encouragement of the churches. In early summer 1942 he contrived to get to Sweden where he made contact with the German resistance and Bonhoeffer. The latter had told his friends in 1940, after Hitler’s success in France: ‘If we claim to be Christians, there is no room for expediency. Hitler is the anti-Christ. Therefore we must go on with our work and eliminate him, whether he be successful or not.’ Bonhoeffer’s last message, smuggled out of prison just before his execution in April 1945, was to Bell: ‘...with him I believe in the principle of our Universal Christian Brotherhood, which rises above all national interests, and that our victory is assured.’ For his part, Bell tried to set limits to Allied ferocity. He thought ‘the church cannot speak of any earthly war as a crusade’. He advocated an international agreement against night-bombing, but got no support from the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cosmo Gordon Lang. All he obtained from the government was a public statement that their aim was not the total destruction of the German people; and on bombing he was sharply rebuked by Lang’s successor, Archbishop Temple, in July 1943: ‘I am not at all disposed to be the mouthpiece of the concern which I know exists, because I do not share it.’ Bell was horrified by the mass terror raids on German cities conducted by the British, and later by the Americans also.
From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)
If habitual contiguities dominate, we have a prosaic mind; if rare contiguities, similarities, have free play, we call the person fanciful, poetic, or witty. But the thought as a rule is of matters taken in their entirety. Having been thinking of one, we later that we are thinking of another, to which we have I lifted along, we hardly know how. If an abstract quality figures in the procession, it arrests our attention but for a moment, and fades into something else; and is never very abstract. Thus, in thinking of the sun-myths, we may have a gleam of admiration at the gracefulness of the primitive human mind, or a moment of disgust at the narrowness of modern interpreters. But, in the main, we think less of qualities than of whole things, real or possible, just as we may experience them. The upshot of it may be that we are reminded of some practical duty: we write a letter to a friend abroad, or we take down the lexicon and study our Creek lesson. Our thought is rational, and leads to a rational act, but it can hardly be called reasoning in a strict sense of the term. There are other shorter flights of thought, single couplings of terms which suggest one another by association, which approach more to what would commonly be classed as acts of reasoning proper. Those are where a present sign suggests an unseen, distant, or future reality. Where the sign and what it suggests are both concretes which have been coupled together on previous occasions, the inference is common to both brutes and men, being really nothing more than association by contiguity. A and B, dinner-bell and dinner, have been experienced in immediate succession. Hence A no sooner falls upon the sense than B is anticipated, and steps are taken to meet it. The whole education of our domestic beasts, all the cunning added by age and experience to wild ones, and the greater part of our human knowingness consists in the ability to make a, mass of inferences of this simplest sort. Our 'perceptions,' or recognitions of what objects are before us, are inferences of this kind. 'We feel a patch of color, and we say' a distant house,' a whiff of odor crosses us, and we say 'a skunk,' a faint sound is heard, and we call it 'a railroad train.' Examples are needless; for such inferences of sensations not presented form the staple and tissue of our perceptive life, and our Chapter XIX was full of them, illusory or veracious. They have been called unconscious inferences. Certainly we are commonly unconscious that we are inferring at all. The sign and the signified melt into what seems' to us the object of a single pulse of thought.
From Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989)
Per haps another ques tion might be put here as well. Is the naturalist affirmation conditional on a vision of human nature in the fullness of its health and strength? Does it move us to extend help to the irremediably br oken, such as t h e mentally handicapped, those dying without dignity, fet uses with genetic defects? Perhaps one might judge that it doesn't and t hat t h is i s a point in favour of naturalism; perhaps effort shouldn't be wasted o n t he se unprom ising c as es. But the careers of Mother Teresa or Jean Vanier se em to p oint to a different pattern , emerging from a Christian spi rituality. I am obv iou sl y not neutra l in po sing t h ese questions. Even though I have r e frain ed (p artl y ou t of delica cy, bu t la rg ely out of lack of argume nts ) fr o m 518 • CONCLU SION answering t hem, the reader suspects that my hunch lies towards the affirma tive, that I do t hink naturalist humanism defective in these respects-o r, perhaps better put, that great as the power of naturalist sources might be, t he p otential of a ce rtain theistic perspective is incomparably greater. Dostoy evsky h a s framed this perspective better than I ever could here. But I recognize that pointed questio ns could be put in the other directi o n as well, directed at theistic views. M y aim has been not to score p oints but t o identify this range of q uestions around the moral sources which might sustai n our rather massive p r ofessed commitments in benevole nce and justice. This e n ti re range is occluded by the dominance of proceduralist meta-ethics, whic h makes us see these commitments through the prism of moral obligati on, ther eb y making their negative f ace all th e more domi nan t and obtrusive 29 a nd push ing the moral sources further out of sight. But the picture I have be en drawing of the modem identity brings this range back into the foregr o un d. 25.5 I want now to look very briefly at the third zone. W h at emerged from the discussion of th e critiqu e of instrumentalism was the need to recognize a plurality of goods, and hence often of conflicts, which other views tend to mask by dele gi timizin g one of the goods in contest. lnstrumentralists can ignore the cost in expressive fulfilment or in the severing of ties with nature, becaus e they don't recognize these. Critics of modernity are frequently just as dismissive about these goods, which for their part they dismiss as subjectivist il lusion. Proponents of su b jective fulfilment allow nothing to stand a g ains t 'liberation'.
From The Diary of a Young Girl (The Definitive Edition) (2020)
Maybe it’s my fault that we don’t confide in each other. In any case, that’s just how things are, and unfortunately they’re not liable to change. This is why I’ve started the diary. To enhance the image of this long-awaited friend in my imagination, I don’t want to jot down the facts in this diary the way most people would do, but I want the diary to be my friend, and I’m going to call this friend Kitty. Since no one would understand a word of my stories to Kitty if I were to plunge right in, I’d better provide a brief sketch of my life, much as I dislike doing so. My father, the most adorable father I’ve ever seen, didn’t marry my mother until he was thirty-six and she was twenty-five. My sister Margot was born in Frankfurt am Main in Germany in 1926. I was born on June 12, 1929. I lived in Frankfurt until I was four. Because we’re Jewish, my father immigrated to Holland in 1933, when he became the Managing Director of the Dutch Opekta Company, which manufactures products used in making jam. My mother, Edith Hollander Frank, went with him to Holland in September, while Margot and I were sent to Aachen to stay with our grandmother. Margot went to Holland in December, and I followed in February, when I was plunked down on the table as a birthday present for Margot. I started right away at the Montessori nursery school. I stayed there until I was six, at which time I started first grade. In sixth grade my teacher was Mrs. Kuperus, the principal. At the end of the year we were both in tears as we said a heartbreaking farewell, because I’d been accepted at the Jewish Lyceum, where Margot also went to school. Our lives were not without anxiety, since our relatives in Germany were suffering under Hitler’s anti-Jewish laws. After the pogroms in 1938 my two uncles (my mother’s brothers) fled Germany, finding safe refuge in North America. My elderly grandmother came to live with us. She was seventy-three years old at the time. After May 1940 the good times were few and far between: first there was the war, then the capitulation and then the arrival of the Germans, which is when the trouble started for the Jews. Our freedom was severely restricted by a series of anti-Jewish decrees: Jews were required to wear a yellow star; Jews were required to turn in their bicycles; Jews were forbidden to use street-cars; Jews were forbidden to ride in cars, even their own; Jews were required to do their shopping between 3 and 5 P.M.; Jews were required to frequent only Jewish-owned barbershops and beauty parlors; Jews were forbidden to be out on the streets between 8 P.M.
From Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989)
"In diesen heiligen Hallen" , discord and hatred give way t o forgiveness and love. The music convinces u s where the words never could. All of th ese possible substitutes for grace-the clear vision of scient ifi c reason, the Rousseauian or Romantic inner impulse of nature, the Kantian good will, Sarastrian goodness-have helped t o ground a confidence that we can meet the demands of universal benevolence. In the actual life of modern culture, they have not been trea ted as alternatives t o or seen as incompatib le wi th religious faith. Nineteenth-centu ry exceptionalist views in the English speaking world sometimes combined virtually all of them: there was less perhaps of th e Rou sseauian-Romantic, but there was frequently a combina tion of Christian faith with a sense of the progress of modern society in enlightened and rational control. This in turn could consist with a Kantian or Sarastrian sense that inner sources of benevolence have been released by enlightened education. The resulting amalgam, occurring in different propor tions at different times, give s one something of the mood whi ch has surrounded the great endeavours of human improvement in English-speaking so cieties in the last two centuries: from temperance campaigns through education al reforms, to the great efforts at world reconstruction which followed the two world wars. Rather different, 'lay' mixtures were in eviden c e in F rance, with a heavier reliance on the Kantian and Sarastrian, and even in some cases, a peculiarly French scientistic transposition of Romantic holism, which descends in the tradition from Saint-Simon through Comte to Durkheim and beyond. Just as in the case of our conceptions of the good, our ideas about our moral motivation show a confusing mixture of fusion, mutual influence, and rival ry amon g the different sources. Belief and unbelief have been complexl y related to each other. It is n ot just that the secular rep lacements issue historically from the Christian notion of grace; they in turn have influenced it. Modern notions of agape have been affected b y the ideal of austere an d impartial beneficence which emerges from disengaged reason. This w as already evident in Hutcheson and becomes salient in Christian utilitariansi m . B ut they have also been transformed by Romantic conceptions of spo n taneous feeling, of a goodness whic h flows from inner nature. At the same time, this influence has not been u ncontested. Proponents of different streams in Christian spirituali ty have bitterly combated what t hey see as foreig n Ou r Victorian Contemporaries • 4I 3 intrusions.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Theodulph was an excellent prelate; faithful, discreet and wise. He greatly deplored the ignorance of his clergy and earnestly labored to elevate them. To this end he established many schools, and also wrote the Capitula ad presbyteros parochicae suae mentioned below. In this work he was particularly successful. The episcopal school of Orleans was famous for the number, beauty and accuracy of the MSS. it produced. In his educational work he enjoyed the assistance of the accomplished poet Wulfin. Theodulph was himself a scholar, well read both in secular and religious literature.1150 He had also a taste for architecture, and restored many convents and churches and built the splendid basilica at Germigny, which was modelled after that at Aix la Chapelle. His love for the Bible comes out not only in the revision of the Vulgate he had made, and practically in his exhortation to his clergy to expound it, but also in those costly copies of the Bible which are such masterpieces of calligraphy.1151 He was moreover the first poet of his day, which however is not equivalent to saying that he had much genius. His productions, especially his didactic poems, are highly praised and prized for their pictures of the times, rather than for their poetical power. From one of his minor poems the interesting fact comes out that he had been married and had a daughter called Gisla, who was the wife of a certain Suavaric.1152
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Flaccus Albinus, or, as he is commonly called in the Old English form, Alcuin1112 ("friend of the temple"), the ecclesiastical prime minister of Charlemagne, was born in Yorkshire about 735. He sprang from a noble Northumbrian family, the one to which Willibrord, apostle of the Frisians, belonged, and inherited considerable property, including the income of a monastic society on the Yorkshire coast.1113 At tender age he was taken to the famous cathedral school at York, and there was educated by his loving and admiring friends, Egbert, archbishop of York (732–766) and founder of the school, and Ethelbert, its master. With the latter he made several literary journeys on the continent, once as far as Rome, and each time returned laden with MS. treasures, secured, by a liberal expenditure of money, from different monasteries. Thus they greatly enlarged the library which Egbert had founded.1114 In 766 Ethelbert succeeded Egbert in the archbishopric of York, and appointed Alcuin, who had previously been a teacher, master of the cathedral school, ordained him a deacon, Feb. 2, 767, and made him one of the secular canons of York minster. In 767 he had Liudger for a pupil. Some time between the latter year and 780,1115 Ethelbert sent him to Italy on a commission to Charlemagne, whom he met, probably at Pavia. In 780 Ethelbert retired from his see and gave over to Alcuin the care of the library, which now was without a rival in England. Alcuin gives a catalogue of it,1116 thus throwing welcome light upon the state of learning at the time. In 780 Alcuin again visited Rome to fetch the pallium for Eanbald, Ethelbert’s successor.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
His power is felt on every Lord’s Day from ten thousand pulpits, in the palaces of kings and the huts of beggars, in universities and colleges, in every school where the sermon on the Mount is read, in prisons, in almshouses, in orphan asylums, as well as in happy homes, in learned works and simple tracts in endless succession. If this history of ours has any value at all, it is a new evidence that Christ is the light and life of a fallen world. And there is no sign that his power is waning. His kingdom is more widely spread than ever before, and has the fairest prospect of final triumph in all the earth. Napoleon at St. Helena is reported to have been struck with the reflection that millions are now ready to die for the crucified Nazarene who founded a spiritual empire by love, while no one would die for Alexander, or Caesar, or himself, who founded temporal empires by force. He saw in this contrast a convincing argument for the divinity of Christ, saying: "I know men, and I tell you, Christ was not a man. Everything about Christ astonishes me. His spirit overwhelms and confounds me. There is no comparison between him and any other being. He stands single and alone.102 And Goethe, another commanding genius, of very different character, but equally above suspicion of partiality for religion, looking in the last years of his life over the vast field
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
to whom the whole earth belongs; for martyrdom I am unfit, but death is a benefactor to me, for it sends me more quickly to God, to whom I live and move; I am also in great part already dead, and have been for a long time hastening to the grave." The emperor was about to banish him, when his son, six years of age, was suddenly taken sick, and the physicians gave up all hope. Then he sent for Basil, and his son recovered, though he died soon after. The imperial prefect also recovered from a sickness, and ascribed his recovery to the prayer of the bishop, towards whom he had previously behaved haughtily. Thus this danger was averted by special divine assistance. But other difficulties, perplexities, and divisions, continually met him, to obstruct the attainment of his desire, the restoration of the peace of the church. These storms, and all sorts of hostilities, early wasted his body. He died in 379, two years before the final victory of the Nicene orthodoxy, with the words: "Into Thy hands, O Lord I commit my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord, God of truth."1951 He was borne to the grave by a deeply sorrowing multitude. Basil was poor, and almost always sickly; he had only a single worn-out garment, and ate almost nothing but bread, salt, and herbs. The care of the poor and sick he took largely upon himself. He founded in the vicinity of Caesarea that magnificent hospital, Basilias, which we have already mentioned, chiefly for lepers, who were often entirely abandoned in those regions, and left to the saddest fate; he himself took in the sufferers, treated them as brethren, and, in spite of their revolting condition, was not afraid to kiss them.1952 Basil is distinguished as a pulpit orator and as a theologian, and still more as a shepherd of souls and a church ruler; and in the history of monasticism he holds a conspicuous place.1953 In classical culture he yields to none of his contemporaries, and is justly placed with the two Gregories among the very first writers among the Greek fathers. His style is pure, elegant, and vigorous. Photius thought that one who wished to become a panegyrist, need take neither Demosthenes nor Cicero for his model, but Basil only. Of his works, his Five Books against Eunomius, written in 361, in defence of the deity of Christ, and his work on the Holy Ghost, written in 375, at the request of his friend Amphilochius, are important to the history of doctrine.1954 He at first, from fear of Sabellianism, recoiled from the strong doctrine of the homoousia; but the persecution of the Arians drove him to a decided confession. Of importance in the East is the Liturgy ascribed to him, which, with that of St. Chrysostom, is still in use, but has undoubtedly reached its present form by degrees. We have also from St.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Whoever reads the tenth volume of his works, which contains his Anti-Pelagian writings in more than fourteen hundred folio columns (in the Benedictine edition), will be moved to wonder at the extraordinary wealth of thought and experience treasured in them for all time; especially if he considers that Augustine, at the breaking out of the Pelagian controversy, was already fifty-seven years old, and had passed through the Manichaen and Donatist controversies. Such giants in theology could only arise in an age when this queen of the sciences drew into her service the whole mental activity of the time. The Pelagian controversy was conducted with as great an expenditure of mental energy, and as much of moral and religious earnestness, but with less passion and fewer intrigues, than the Trinitarian and Christological conflicts in the East. In the foreground stood the mighty genius and pure zeal of Augustine, who never violated theological dignity, and, though of thoroughly energetic convictions, had a heart full of love. Yet even he yielded so far to the intolerant spirit of his time as to justify the repression of the Donatist and Pelagian errors by civil penalties. § 147. External History of the Pelagian Controversy, A.D. 411–431. Pelagius1715 was a simple monk, born about the middle of the fourth century in Britain, the extremity of the then civilized world. He was a man of clear intellect, mild disposition, learned culture, and spotless character; even Augustine. with all his abhorrence of his doctrines, repeatedly speaks respectfully of the man.1716 He studied the Greek theology, especially that of the Antiochian school, and early showed great zeal for the improvement of himself and of the world. But his morality was not so much the rich, deep life of faith, as it was the external legalism, the ascetic self-discipline and self-righteousness of monkery. It was characteristic, that, even before the controversy, he took great offence at the well-known saying of Augustine: "Give what thou commandest, and command what thou wilt."1717 He could not conceive, that the power to obey the commandment must come from the same source as the commandment itself. Faith, with him, was hardly more than a theoretical belief; the main thing in religion was moral action, the keeping of the commandments of God by one’s own strength. This is also shown in the introductory remarks of his letter to Demetrias, a noble Roman nun, of the gens Anicia, in which he describes a model virgin as a proof of the excellency of human nature: "As often as I have to speak concerning moral improvement and the leading of a holy life, I am accustomed first to set forth the power and quality of human nature, and to show what it can accomplish.1718 For never are we able to enter upon the path of the virtues, unless hope, as companion, draws us to them.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
rose to the highest sacerdotal dignity, while his holy life and erudition made him an object of universal admiration. He left many disciples who were zealously attached to his doctrines. The most celebrated of them were Abbas, Zenobius, Abraham, Maras, and Simeon, whom the Syrians regard as the glory of their country.2060 Ephraem was an uncommonly prolific author. His fertility was prophetically revealed to him in his early years by the vision of a vine which grew from the root of his tongue, spreading in every direction to the ends of the earth, and was loaded with new and heavier clusters the more it was plucked. His writings consist of commentaries on the Scriptures, homilies, ascetic tracts, and sacred poetry. The commentaries and hymns, or metrical prose, are preserved in the Syriac original, and have an independent philological value for Oriental scholars. The other writings exist only in Greek, Latin, and Armenian translations. Excellent Greek translations were known and extensively read so early as the time of Chrysostom and Jerome. His works furnish no clear evidence of his knowledge of the Greek language; some writers assert his acquaintance with Greek, others deny it.2061 His commentaries extended over the whole Bible, "from the book of creation to the last book of grace," as Gregory of Nyssa says. We have his commentaries on the historical and prophetical books of the Old Testament and the Book of Job in Syriac, and his commentaries on the Epistles of Paul in an Armenian translation.2062 They have been but little used thus far by commentators. He does not interpret the text from the original Hebrew, but from the old Syriac translation, the Peshito.2063 His sermons and homilies, of which, according to Photius, he composed more than a thousand, are partly expository, partly polemical, against Jews, heathen, and heretics.2064 They evince a considerable degree of popular eloquence; they are full of pathos, exclamations, apostrophes, antitheses, illustrations, severe rebuke, and sweet comfort, according to the subject; but also full of exaggerations, bombast, prolixity, and the superstitious of his age, such as the over-estimate of ascetic virtue, and excessive veneration of the Virgin Mary, the saints, and relics.2065 Some of his sermons were publicly read after the Bible lesson in many Oriental and even Occidental churches.2066 His hymns were intended to counteract the influence of the heretical views of Bardesanes and his son Harmonius, which spread widely by means of popular Syrian songs. "When Ephraem perceived," says Sozomen, "that the Syrians were charmed with the elegant diction and melodious versification of Harmonius, he became apprehensive, lest they should imbibe the same opinions; and therefore, although he was ignorant of Greek learning, he applied himself to the study of the metres of Harmonius, and composed similar poems in accordance with the doctrines of the church, and sacred hymns in praise of holy men.
From The Diary of a Young Girl (The Definitive Edition) (2020)
the Good Old Days; plus Miep and Bep are always grateful for money. Today we heard that Mr. van Daan’ s ashtray, Mr. Dussel’s picture frame and Father’s bookends were made by none other than Mr. Voskuijl. How anyone can be so clever with his hands is a mystery to me! THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1942 Dearest Kitty, Mr. van Daan used to be in the meat, sausage and spice business. He was hired for his knowledge of spices, and yet, to our great delight, it’s his sausage talents that have come in handy now. We ordered a large amount of meat (under the counter, of course) that we were planning to preserve in case there were hard times ahead. Mr. van Daan decided to make bratwurst, sausages and mettwurst. I had fun watching him put the meat through the grinder: once, twice, three times. Then he added the remaining ingredi ents to the ground meat and used a long pipe to force the mixture into the casings. We ate the bratwurst with sauerkraut for lunch, but the sausages, which were going to be canned, had to dry first, so we hung them over a pole suspended from the cethng. Everyone who came into the room burst into laughter when they saw the dangling sausages.It was such a comical sight. The kitchen was a shambles. Mr. van Daan, clad in his wife’s apron and looking fatter than ever, was working away at the meat. What with his bloody hands, red face and spotted apron, he looked like a real butcher. Mrs. D. was trying to do everything at once: learning Dutch out of a book, stirring the soup, watching the meat, sighing and moaning about her broken rib. That’s what happens when old (!) ladies do such stupid exercises to get rid of their fat behinds! Dussel had an eye infection and was sitting next to the stove dabbing his eye with camomile tea. Pim, seated in the one ray of sunshine coming through the window, kept having to move his chair this way and that to stay out of the way. His rheumatism must have been bothering him because he was slightly hunched over and was keeping an eye on Mr. van Daan with an agonized expression on his face. He reminded me of those aged invalids you see in the poor-house. Peter was romping around the room with Mouschi, the cat, while Mother, Margot and I were peeling boiled potatoes. When you get right down to it, none of us were doing our work properly, because we were all so busy watching Mr. van Daan.
From Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989)
I ns te a d of looking for beautiful sights and sounds, philosophers look for beau ty i t s e l f , something that re m ains always the same, while beautiful objects va ry a n d change, an d "wander between gener at ion and destruction" ("plano m e nes hupo geneseos kai p hthoras", 4858). But people who thus love the e t er n a l, Plato's Self-Mastery • r 23 P la t o a r gue s, cannot help but be morally g ood; the y will necessarily have all th e vi rt u es (486-487), because the love of order will itself bring order (cf. 4 _. ,.E ) , A gain later, he ar gu es: F or s u rel y, Adeimantus, the man whose mind is truly fixed on eternal re a lit ies has no leisure t o tu rn his eyes downward upon the petty affairs of m en , a nd so engaging in strife with them to be filled with env y and hate, bu t fi x es his gaze upon the things of the eternal and unchanging order, and se e in g t hat they neither wron g n or ar e wronged by one another, but all a b ide in h armony as reason bids, he will endeavour to imitate them and, a s far as may be, to fashion himself in their likeness an d assimilate himself t o them. Or do y ou think it possible not to imitate the things to which anyone attaches himself with a d miration? (5008-C ) Reason reaches its fulness in the vi sion of the larger o r der, w hich is also the v ision of the Good. And this is why the language of inside/outside can in a s ens e be misleading as a formulation of Plato's position. In an impor t ant se nse, the moral sources we accede to by reason a re not within us. They can be seen as outside us, in the Good; or perhaps our acceding to a higher condition ought to be seen as something which takes place in the "space" between us and this order of the good.
From The Erotic Mind (1995)
So common is this theme among men that we could easily decide that no further analysis is necessary. But Claude reveals another dimension to his arousal, one not visible on the surface: Both in and out of bed I’ve been called the “strong, silent type.” Women always want me to say more about what I feel, to be more passionate and less cool. Even when I come I hardly make a sound. I’ve always picked women who have emotions about everything. I’m sure my attraction has to do with my difficulty expressing myself. It’s almost as if they feel the passion for both of us. I admire these women and wish I could be more like them. By stimulating a lover to be demonstrative in ways he can’t, he maintains a profoundly exciting contrast with his lovers and exposes himself to characteristics he lacks. As it is with Claude, attractive others are, at least in part, mirrors in whom we perceive underdeveloped or missing aspects of our own personalities. Mature lovers recognize that intimate involvements are opportunities for growing. Through our attachments we can gradually cultivate within ourselves the very characteristics we find so appealing in our partners. THE ROYAL ROAD TO YOUR CETJana and Claude’s insights demonstrate how much can be revealed by patiently probing your real-life attractions and encounters. There are, however, limitations to this method. It is important to keep in mind that your CET exists and operates internally even when it is expressed externally through your choices of partners and preferred sexual practices. During partner sex your emphasis is on the interplay between you. Unless both of you are unusually forthright in acting out your innermost desires, the niceties of social-sexual interaction can easily divert you from the unedited content of your CET. Awareness of your CET during partner sex is also limited by the fact that it probably includes one or more aspects you don’t want to act out with a real partner. Quite naturally, you conceal these extremely personal aspects of your CET. In my experience the CET can be most freely explored when it need not be negotiated to mesh with the needs of another. Simon and Gagnon rightly insist that “the sexual dialogue with the other often bears little resemblance to the sexual dialogue with the self.”4 Your CET, with its intimate connection to your deepest and often hidden concerns, has much in common with dreams. Emanating from the subconscious world beyond the constraints of logic, social obligations, and morality, the dream is a canvas upon which anything can be painted. Just as Freud declared the unfettered imagery of dreams to be a “royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities or the mind;”5 sexual fantasies and daydreams are the royal road to your CET. When you allow your fantasies free rein, especially the ones you repeatedly gravitate toward during masturbation, “pure” representations of your CET hover closer to consciousness than at any other time.
From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)
When two minds of a high order, interested in kindred subjects, come together, their conversation is chiefly remarkable for the summariness of its allusions and the rapidity of its transitions. Before one of them is half through a sentence the other knows his meaning and replies. Such genial play with such massive materials, such an easy hashing of light over far perspectives, such careless indifference to the dust and apparatus that ordinarily surround the subject and seem to pertain to its essence, make these conversations seem true feasts forgoes to a listener who is educated enough to follow them at all. His mental lungs breathe more deeply, in an atmosphere more broad and vast than is their wont. On the other hand, the excessive explicitness and short-windedness of an ordinary man are as wonderful as they are tedious to the man of genius. But we need not go as far as the ways of genius. Ordinary social intercourse will do. There the charm of conversation is in direct proportion to the possibility of abridgment and elision, and in inverse ratio to the need of explicit statement. With old friends a word stands for a whole story or set of opinions. With new-comers everything must be gone over in detail. Some persons have a real mania for completeness, they must express every step. They are the most intolerable of companions, and although their mental energy may in its way be great, they always strike us as weak and second-rate. In short, the essence of plebeianism, that which separates vulgarity from aristocracy, is perhaps less a defect than an excess, the constant need to animadvert upon matters which for the aristocratic temperament do not exist. To ignore, to disdain to consider, to overlook, are the essence of the 'gentleman.' Often most provokingly so; for the things ignored may be of the deepest moral consequence. But in the very midst of our indignation with the gentleman, we have a consciousness that his preposterous inertia and negativeness in the actual emergency is, somehow or other, allied with his general superiority to ourselves. It is not only that the gentleman ignores considerations relative to conduct, sordid suspicions, fears, calculations, etc., which the vulgarian is fated to entertain; it is that he is silent where the vulgarian talks ; that he gives nothing but results where the vulgarian is profuse of reasons; that he does not explain or apologize; that he uses one sentence instead of twenty; and that, in a word, there is an amount of interstitial thinking, so to call it, which it is quite impossible to get him to perform, but which is nearly all that the vulgarian mind performs at all. All this suppression of the secondary leaves the field clear,—for higher heights, should they choose to come. But even if they never came, what thoughts there were would still manifest the aristocratic type and wear the well-bred form. So great is our sense of harmony and ease in passing from the company of a philistine to that of an aristocratic temperament, that we are almost tempted to deem the falsest views and tastes as held by a man of the world, truer than the truest as held by a common person. In the latter the best ideas are choked, obstructed, and contaminated by the redundancy of their paltry associates. The negative conditions, at least, of an atmosphere and a free outlook are present in the former. I may appear to have strayed from psychological analysis into aesthetic criticism. But the principle of selection is so important that no illustrations seem redundant which may help to show how great is its scope. The upshot of what I say simply is that selection implies rejection as well as choice; and that the function of ignoring, of inattention, is as vital a factor in mental progress as the function of attention itself.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Isidore of Seville, saint and doctor of the Latin Church, was born about 560 either at Carthagena or Seville. He was the youngest child of an honored Roman family of the orthodox Christian faith. His father’s name was Severianus. His eldest brother, Leander, the well-known friend of Gregory the Great, and the successful upholder of the Catholic faith against Arianism, was archbishop of Seville, the most prominent see in Spain, from about 579 to 600; another brother, Fulgentius, was bishop of Astigi (Ecija) in that diocese, where his sister, Florentina, was a nun.1008 Isidore is called Senior to distinguish him from Isidore of Pax Julia, now Beja (Isidorus Pacensis), and Junior to distinguish him from Isidore of Cordova. His parents died apparently while he was quite young. At all events he was educated by his brother Leander. In the year 600 he succeeded his brother in the archiepiscopate of Seville. In this position he became the great leader of the Spanish Church, and is known to have presided at two, councils, the second council of Seville, opened November 13, 619, and the fourth council of Toledo, opened December 5, 633.1009 The first of these was of local interest, but the other was much more important. It was the largest ever held in Spain, being attended by all the six metropolitans, fifty-six bishops and seven bishops’ deputies. It has political significance because it was called by King Sisenand, who had just deposed Suintila, the former king. Sisenand was received by the council with great respect. He threw himself before the bishops and with tears asked their prayers. He then exhorted them to do their duty in correcting abuses. Of the seventy-five canons passed by the council several are of curious interest. Thus it was forbidden to plunge the recipient of baptism more than once under the water, because the Arians did it three times to indicate that the Trinity was divided (c. 6). It was not right to reject all the hymns written by Hilary and Ambrose and employ only Scriptural language in public worship (c. 13). If a clergyman is ever made a judge by the king he must exact an oath from the king that no blood is to be shed in his court (c. 31). By order of King Sisenand the clergy were freed from all state taxes and services (c. 47). Once a monk always a monk, although one was made so by his parents (c. 49) 1010 While compulsory conversion of the Jews was forbidden, yet no Jew converted by force was allowed to return to Judaism (c. 57). Very strenuous laws were passed relative to both the baptized and the unbaptized Jews (c. 58–66). The king was upheld in his government and the deposed king and his family perpetually excluded from power. When Isidore’s position is considered it is a probable conjecture that these canons express his opinions and convictions upon the different matters.