Non sine numine=--Not without the Divine approval
Don't always seek the approval of others concerning your goals or dreams. Not everyone wants to see you succeed, just because they are not successful.
To fail in justice, or in benevolence, is to be displeased with one's self. But happiness is impossible without inward self-approval; and, hence, every man who has any regard to his own happiness and welfare, will find his best reward in the practice of every moral duty.
Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.
Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.
I have never claimed to live by any set of principles. I've never claimed to be right, or good, or even justified in my actions. The simple truth is that I do not care. I have been forced to do terrible things in my life, love, and I am seeking neither your forgiveness nor your approval. Because I do not have the luxury of philosophizing over scruples when I'm forced to act on basic instinct every day.
Orders subject to approval.
Assassination on the scaffold is the worst form of assassination, because there it is invested with the approval of society.
On such feelings, more or less dimly shared by all, the unanimity and general approval were founded with which, despite court influences, the popular choice of Kutuzov as commander-in-chief was received.
"When you see my sister, Princess Mary, you'll get on with her," he said. "Perhaps you are right for yourself," he added after a short pause, "but everyone lives in his own way. You lived for yourself and say you nearly ruined your life and only found happiness when you began living for others. I experienced just the reverse. I lived for glory.-- And after all what is glory? The same love of others, a desire to do something for them, a desire for their approval.--So I lived for others, and not almost, but quite, ruined my life. And I have become calmer since I began to live only for myself."
His grandfather, who was his godfather, trembling and afraid of dropping him, carried the infant round the battered tin font and handed him over to the godmother, Princess Mary. Prince Andrew sat in another room, faint with fear lest the baby should be drowned in the font, and awaited the termination of the ceremony. He looked up joyfully at the baby when the nurse brought it to him and nodded approval when she told him that the wax with the baby's hair had not sunk in the font but had floated.
A delegation of the Soldiers’ Section of the Petrograd Soviet asked that a representative be admitted to the Staff of the Petrograd District. Refused. The Petrograd Soviet demanded that no orders be issued without the approval of the Soldiers’ Section. Refused. The delegates were roughly told, “We only recognise the _Tsay-ee-kah._ We do not recognise you; if you break any laws, we shall arrest you.”
Having finished his second glass of punch, Napoleon went to rest before the serious business which, he considered, awaited him next day. He was so much interested in that task that he was unable to sleep, and in spite of his cold which had grown worse from the dampness of the evening, he went into the large division of the tent at three o'clock in the morning, loudly blowing his nose. He asked whether the Russians had not withdrawn, and was told that the enemy's fires were still in the same places. He nodded approval.
As for the convent, its gratitude to Fauchelevent was very great. Fauchelevent became the best of servitors and the most precious of gardeners. Upon the occasion of the archbishop's next visit, the prioress recounted the affair to his Grace, making something of a confession at the same time, and yet boasting of her deed. On leaving the convent, the archbishop mentioned it with approval, and in a whisper to M. de Latil, Monsieur's confessor, afterwards Archbishop of Reims and Cardinal. This admiration for Fauchelevent became widespread, for it made its way to Rome. We have seen a note addressed by the then reigning Pope, Leo XII., to one of his relatives, a Monsignor in the Nuncio's establishment in Paris, and bearing, like himself, the name of Della Genga; it contained these lines: "It appears that there is in a convent in Paris an excellent gardener, who is also a holy man, named Fauvent." Nothing of this triumph reached Fauchelevent in his hut; he went on grafting, weeding, and covering up his melon beds, without in the least suspecting his excellences and his sanctity. Neither did he suspect his glory, any more than a Durham or Surrey bull whose portrait is published in the London Illustrated News, with this inscription: "Bull which carried off the prize at the Cattle Show."
"O yes! and so the dustman says, I believe, with the strongest approval, and so does the marine-store shop in the back street. Gravely, Handel, for the subject is grave enough, you know how it is as well as I do. I suppose there was a time once when my father had not given matters up; but if ever there was, the time is gone. May I ask you if you have ever had an opportunity of remarking, down in your part of the country, that the children of not exactly suitable marriages are always most particularly anxious to be married?"
He did not abstain from conversing with me: he even called me as usual each morning to join him at his desk; and I fear the corrupt man within him had a pleasure unimparted to, and unshared by, the pure Christian, in evincing with what skill he could, while acting and speaking apparently just as usual, extract from every deed and every phrase the spirit of interest and approval which had formerly communicated a certain austere charm to his language and manner. To me, he was in reality become no longer flesh, but marble; his eye was a cold, bright, blue gem; his tongue a speaking instrument--nothing more.
Count Ilya Rostov smiled blandly and nodded approval.
Speaker succeeded speaker, debating amid tense silence, roars of approval, or anger: should we come out or not? Khanjunov returned, persuasive and sympathetic. But wasn’t he an officer, and an _oboronotz,_ however much he talked of peace? Then a workman from Vasili Ostrov, but him they greeted with, “And are _you_ going to give us peace, working-man?” Near us some men, many of them officers, formed a sort of _claque_ to cheer the advocates of Neutrality. They kept shouting, “Khanjunov! Khanjunov!” and whistled insultingly when the Bolsheviki tried to speak.
"But I should like Alyosha, too (Ah! Alexey Fyodorovitch, forgive my calling you simply Alyosha), I should like Alexey Fyodorovitch, too, to tell me before my two friends whether I am right. I feel instinctively that you, Alyosha, my dear brother (for you are a dear brother to me)," she said again ecstatically, taking his cold hand in her hot one, "I foresee that your decision, your approval, will bring me peace, in spite of all my sufferings, for, after your words, I shall be calm and submit--I feel that."
Countess Mary wanted to tell him that man does not live by bread alone and that he attached too much importance to these matters. But she knew she must not say this and that it would be useless to do so. She only took his hand and kissed it. He took this as a sign of approval and a confirmation of his thoughts, and after a few minutes' reflection continued to think aloud.
Pierre was in such a transport of rage that he remembered nothing and his strength increased tenfold. He rushed at the barefooted Frenchman and, before the latter had time to draw his sword, knocked him off his feet and hammered him with his fists. Shouts of approval were heard from the crowd around, and at the same moment a mounted patrol of French uhlans appeared from round the corner. The uhlans came up at a trot to Pierre and the Frenchman and surrounded them. Pierre remembered nothing of what happened after that. He only remembered beating someone and being beaten and finally feeling that his hands were bound and that a crowd of French soldiers stood around him and were searching him.
At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where he had left his purchases.
The princess, who had never liked Pierre and had been particularly hostile to him since she had felt herself under obligations to him after the old count's death, now after staying a short time in Orel--where she had come intending to show Pierre that in spite of his ingratitude she considered it her duty to nurse him--felt to her surprise and vexation that she had become fond of him. Pierre did not in any way seek her approval, he merely studied her with interest. Formerly she had felt that he regarded her with indifference and irony, and so had shrunk into herself as she did with others and had shown him only the combative side of her nature; but now he seemed to be trying to understand the most intimate places of her heart, and, mistrustfully at first but afterwards gratefully, she let him see the hidden, kindly sides of her character.
"Look, Prince," said another, who would have dearly liked to take another pie but felt shy, and therefore pretended to be examining the countryside--"See, our infantrymen have already got there. Look there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging something. They'll ransack that castle," he remarked with evident approval.
"What force! What a style!" was uttered in approval both of reader and of author.
In spite of the obscurity of the soldier's words Pierre understood what he wanted to say and nodded approval.
"Judged!" repeated the farrier, swinging his hammer. "Ay! and condemned as a traitor." At this the crowd roared approval.
Napoleon rode over the plain and surveyed the locality with a profound air and in silence, nodded with approval or shook his head dubiously, and without communicating to the generals around him the profound course of ideas which guided his decisions merely gave them his final conclusions in the form of commands. Having listened to a suggestion from Davout, who was now called Prince d'Eckmuhl, to turn the Russian left wing, Napoleon said it should not be done, without explaining why not. To a proposal made by General Campan (who was to attack the fleches) to lead his division through the woods, Napoleon agreed, though the so-called Duke of Elchingen (Ney) ventured to remark that a movement through the woods was dangerous and might disorder the division.
The day after her party the governor's wife came to see Malvintseva and, after discussing her plan with the aunt, remarked that though under present circumstances a formal betrothal was, of course, not to be thought of, all the same the young people might be brought together and could get to know one another. Malvintseva expressed approval, and the governor's wife began to speak of Rostov in Mary's presence, praising him and telling how he had blushed when Princess Mary's name was mentioned. But Princess Mary experienced a painful rather than a joyful feeling--her mental tranquillity was destroyed, and desires, doubts, self-reproach, and hopes reawoke.
Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
"No," answered Pierre, evidently not considering awkward the meaning Princess Mary had given to his words. "I heard of it in Orel and you cannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple," he added quickly, glancing at Natasha and noticing on her face curiosity as to how he would speak of his wife, "but her death shocked me terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other is no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends and without consolation! I am very, very sorry for her," he concluded, and was pleased to notice a look of glad approval on Natasha's face.
Madame Defarge sat observing it, with such suppressed approval as was to be desired in the leader of the Saint Antoine women. One of her sisterhood knitted beside her. The short, rather plump wife of a starved grocer, and the mother of two children withal, this lieutenant had already earned the complimentary name of The Vengeance.
The Cossack's report, confirmed by horse patrols who were sent out, was the final proof that events had matured. The tightly coiled spring was released, the clock began to whirr and the chimes to play. Despite all his supposed power, his intellect, his experience, and his knowledge of men, Kutuzov--having taken into consideration the Cossack's report, a note from Bennigsen who sent personal reports to the Emperor, the wishes he supposed the Emperor to hold, and the fact that all the generals expressed the same wish--could no longer check the inevitable movement, and gave the order to do what he regarded as useless and harmful--gave his approval, that is, to the accomplished fact.
There was a murmur of confidence and approval, and then the man who hungered, asked: "Is this rustic to be sent back soon? I hope so. He is very simple; is he not a little dangerous?"
"Zat, my dear sir, is vy..." he concluded, drinking a tumbler of wine with dignity and looking to the count for approval.
A middle-aged man, handsome and virile, in the uniform of a retired naval officer, was speaking in one of the rooms, and a small crowd was pressing round him. Pierre went up to the circle that had formed round the speaker and listened. Count Ilya Rostov, in a military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted. He too approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying. The retired naval man was speaking very boldly, as was evident from the expression on the faces of the listeners and from the fact that some people Pierre knew as the meekest and quietest of men walked away disapprovingly or expressed disagreement with him. Pierre pushed his way into the middle of the group, listened, and convinced himself that the man was indeed a liberal, but of views quite different from his own. The naval officer spoke in a particularly sonorous, musical, and aristocratic baritone voice, pleasantly swallowing his r's and generally slurring his consonants: the voice of a man calling out to his servant, "Heah! Bwing me my pipe!" It was indicative of dissipation and the exercise of authority.
Sounds of approval and laughter, at the expense of the prosecutor, were again audible in the court. I will not repeat the speech in detail; I will only quote some passages from it, some leading points.
"Yes, since she lives." At that moment d'Avrigny's glance met Noirtier's eye. It glistened with such extraordinary joy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician was struck. He placed the young girl again on the chair,--her lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white, as well as her whole face,--and remained motionless, looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did. "Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "call Mademoiselle Valentine's maid, if you please." Villefort went himself to find her; and d'Avrigny approached Noirtier. "Have you something to tell me?" asked he. The old man winked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his only way of expressing his approval.
Count Rostov at the back of the crowd was expressing approval; several persons, briskly turning a shoulder to the orator at the end of a phrase, said:
No one had given Tushin orders where and at what to fire, but after consulting his sergeant major, Zakharchenko, for whom he had great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set fire to the village. "Very good!" said Bagration in reply to the officer's report, and began deliberately to examine the whole battlefield extended before him. The French had advanced nearest on our right. Below the height on which the Kiev regiment was stationed, in the hollow where the rivulet flowed, the soul-stirring rolling and crackling of musketry was heard, and much farther to the right beyond the dragoons, the officer of the suite pointed out to Bagration a French column that was outflanking us. To the left the horizon bounded by the adjacent wood. Prince Bagration ordered two battalions from the center to be sent to reinforce the right flank. The officer of the suite ventured to remark to the prince that if these battalions went away, the guns would remain without support. Prince Bagration turned to the officer and with his dull eyes looked at him in silence. It seemed to Prince Andrew that the officer's remark was just and that really no answer could be made to it. But at that moment an adjutant galloped up with a message from the commander of the regiment in the hollow and news that immense masses of the French were coming down upon them and that his regiment was in disorder and was retreating upon the Kiev grenadiers. Prince Bagration bowed his head in sign of assent and approval. He rode off at a walk to the right and sent an adjutant to the dragoons with orders to attack the French. But this adjutant returned half an hour later with the news that the commander of the dragoons had already retreated beyond the dip in the ground, as a heavy fire had been opened on him and he was losing men uselessly, and so had hastened to throw some sharpshooters into the wood.
I thought so too. I established with myself, on these occasions, the reputation of a first-rate man of business,--prompt, decisive, energetic, clear, cool-headed. When I had got all my responsibilities down upon my list, I compared each with the bill, and ticked it off. My self-approval when I ticked an entry was quite a luxurious sensation. When I had no more ticks to make, I folded all my bills up uniformly, docketed each on the back, and tied the whole into a symmetrical bundle. Then I did the same for Herbert (who modestly said he had not my administrative genius), and felt that I had brought his affairs into a focus for him.
We saw in a preceding chapter how Madame Danglars went formally to announce to Madame de Villefort the approaching marriage of Eugenie Danglars and M. Andrea Cavalcanti. This announcement, which implied or appeared to imply, the approval of all the persons concerned in this momentous affair, had been preceded by a scene to which our readers must be admitted. We beg them to take one step backward, and to transport themselves, the morning of that day of great catastrophes, into the showy, gilded salon we have before shown them, and which was the pride of its owner, Baron Danglars. In this room, at about ten o'clock in the morning, the banker himself had been walking to and fro for some minutes thoughtfully and in evident uneasiness, watching both doors, and listening to every sound. When his patience was exhausted, he called his valet. "Etienne," said he, "see why Mademoiselle Eugenie has asked me to meet her in the drawing-room, and why she makes me wait so long."
While expressing his approval of Jean Valjean's silence, he endeavored to force him to talk. He jostled his shoulder in an attempt to catch a sight of his profile, and he exclaimed, without, however, raising his tone:
"Good!" cried Ahab, with a wild approval in his tones; observing the hearty animation into which his unexpected question had so magnetically thrown them.
Nicholas put down the book and looked at his wife. The radiant eyes gazed at him questioningly: would he approve or disapprove of her diary? There could be no doubt not only of his approval but also of his admiration for his wife.
Pierre wished to say that he was ready to sacrifice his money, his serfs, or himself, only one ought to know the state of affairs in order to be able to improve it, but he was unable to speak. Many voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the largest hall and to the big table. Not only was Pierre's attempt to speak unsuccessful, but he was rudely interrupted, pushed aside, and people turned away from him as from a common enemy. This happened not because they were displeased by the substance of his speech, which had even been forgotten after the many subsequent speeches, but to animate it the crowd needed a tangible object to love and a tangible object to hate. Pierre became the latter. Many other orators spoke after the excited nobleman, and all in the same tone. Many spoke eloquently and with originality.
HAMMOND, HENRY (1605-1660), English divine, was born at Chertsey in Surrey on the 18th of August 1605. He was educated at Eton and at Magdalen College, Oxford, becoming demy or scholar in 1619, and fellow in 1625. He took orders in 1629, and in 1633 in preaching before the court so won the approval of the earl of Leicester that he presented him to the living of Penshurst in Kent. In 1643 he was made archdeacon of Chichester. He was a member of the convocation of 1640, and was nominated one of the Westminster Assembly of divines. Instead of sitting at Westminster he took part in the unsuccessful rising at Tunbridge in favour of King Charles I., and was obliged to flee in disguise to Oxford, then the royal headquarters. There he spent much of his time in writing, though he accompanied the king's commissioners to London, and afterwards to the ineffectual convention at Uxbridge in 1645, where he disputed with Richard Vines, one of the parliamentary envoys. In his absence he was appointed canon of Christ Church and public orator of the university. These dignities he relinquished for a time in order to attend the king as chaplain during his captivity in the hands of the parliament. When Charles was deprived of all his loyal attendants at Christmas 1647, Hammond returned to Oxford and was made subdean of Christ Church, only, however, to be removed from all his offices by the parliamentary visitors, who imprisoned him for ten weeks. Afterwards he was permitted, though still under quasi-confinement, to retire to the house of Philip Warwick at Clapham in Bedfordshire. In 1650, having regained his full liberty, Hammond betook himself to the friendly mansion of Sir John Pakington, at Westwood, in Worcestershire, where he died on the 25th of April 1660, just on the eve of his preferment to the see of Worcester. Hammond was held in high esteem even by his opponents. He was handsome in person and benevolent in disposition. He was an excellent preacher; Charles I. pronounced him the most natural orator he had ever heard. His range of reading was extensive, and he was a most diligent scholar and writer. Entry: HAMMOND
HUMILIATI, the name of an Italian monastic order created in the 12th century. Its origin is obscure. According to some chroniclers, certain noblemen of Lombardy, who had offended the emperor (either Conrad III. or Frederick Barbarossa), were carried captive into Germany and after suffering the miseries of exile for some time, "humiliated" themselves before the emperor. Returning to their own country, they did penance and took the name of Humiliati. They do not seem to have had any fixed rule, nor did St Bernard succeed in inducing them to submit to one. The traditions relating to a reform of this order by St John of Meda are ill authenticated, his _Acta_ (_Acta sanctorum Boll._, Sept., vii. 320) being almost entirely unsupported by contemporary evidence. The "Chronicon anonymi Laudunensis canonici" (_Mon. Germ. hist. Scriptores_, xxvi. 449), at date 1178, states that a group of Lombards came to Rome with the intention of obtaining the pope's approval of the rule of life which they had spontaneously chosen; while continuing to live in their houses in the midst of their families, they wished to lead a more pious existence than of old, to abandon oaths and litigation, to content themselves with a modest dress, and all in a spirit of Catholic piety. The pope approved their resolve to live in humility and purity, but forbade them to hold assemblies and to preach in public; the chronicler adding that they infringed the pope's wish and thus drew upon themselves his excommunication. Their name, Humiliati ("Humiles" would have been more appropriate), arose from the fact that the clothes they wore were very simple and of one colour. This lay fraternity spread rapidly and soon put forth two new branches, a second order composed of women, and a third composed of priests. No sooner, however, had this order of priests been formed, than it claimed precedence of the others, and, though chronologically last, was called _primus ordo_ by hierarchical right--_propter tonsuram_ (see P. Sabatier, "Regula antiqua Fr. et Sor. de poenitentia" in _Opuscules de critique historique_, part i. p. 15). In 1201 Pope Innocent III. granted a rule to this third order. Sabatier has drawn attention to the resemblances between this rule and the _Regula de poenitentia_ granted to Franciscanism in the course of its development; on the other hand, it is incontestable that Innocent III. wished to reconcile the order with the Waldenses, and, indeed, its rule reproduces several of the Waldensian propositions, ingeniously modified in the orthodox sense, but still very easily recognizable. It forbade useless oaths and the taking of God's name in vain; allowed voluntary poverty and marriage; regulated pious exercises; and approved the solidarity which already existed among the members of the association. Finally, by a singular concession, it authorized them to meet on Sunday to listen to the words of a brother "of proved faith and prudent piety," on condition that the hearers should not discuss among themselves either the articles of faith or the sacraments of the church. The bishops were forbidden to oppose any of the utterances of the Humiliati brethren, "for the spirit must not be stifled." James of Vitry, without being unfavourable to their tendencies, represents their association as one of the peculiarities of the church of his time (_Historia orientalis_, Douai, 1597). So broad a discipline must of necessity have led back some waverers into the pale of the church, but the Waldenses of Lombardy, in their _congregationes laborantium_, preserved the tradition of the independent Humiliati. Indeed, this tradition is confounded throughout the later 12th century with the history of the Waldenses. The "Chronicon Urspergense" (_Mon. Germ. hist. Scriptores_, xxiii. 376-377) mentions the Humiliati as one of the two Waldensian sects. The celebrated decretal promulgated in 1184 by Pope Lucius III. at the council of Verona against all heretics condemns at the same time as the "Poor Men of Lyons" "those who attribute to themselves falsely the name of Humiliati," at the very time when this name denoted an order recognized by the papacy. This order, though orthodox, was always held in tacit and ever-increasing suspicion, and, in consequence of grave disorders, Pius V. suppressed the entire congregation in February 1570-71. Entry: HUMILIATI