One, although not possessed of a mine of gold, may find the offspring of his own nature, that noble ardour, which hath for its object the accomplishment of the whole assemblage of virtues.
Poetry is the offspring of the rarest beauty, begot by imagination upon thought, and clad by taste and fancy in habiliments of grace.
These rules are only to be used in correcting the figures, since every man makes some mistakes in his first composition, and he who is not aware of them cannot correct them; but thou being conscious of thine errors wilt correct thy work and amend errors where thou findest them, and take care not to fall into them again. But if thou attemptest to apply these rules in composition thou wilt never finish anything, and confusion will enter into thy work. Through these rules thou shalt acquire a free and sound judgement, since sound judgement and thorough understanding proceed from reason arising from sound rules, and sound rules are the offspring of sound experience, the common mother of all the sciences and arts. Hence if thou bearest in mind the precepts of my rules thou shalt be able, merely by thy corrected judgement, to judge and recognize any lack of proportion in a work, in perspective, in figures or anything else.
Sorrow being the natural and direct offspring of sin, that which first brought sin into the world must, by necessary consequence, bring in sorrow too.--_South._
Time and chance. The twin offspring of destiny. That wondrous branching of our fates.
Good fortune is the offspring of our endeavours, although there be nothing sweeter than ease.
Forgiveness is the offspring of a feeling of heroism, of a noble heart, of a generous mind, whilst forgetfulness is only the result of a weak memory, or of an easy carelessness, and still oftener of a natural desire for calm and quietness. Hatred, in the course of time, kills the unhappy wretch who delights in nursing it in his bosom.
Lascivi soboles gregis=--The offspring of a wanton herd.
Hail holy light! offspring of heav'n first-born.
Society is the offspring of leisure; and to acquire this forms the only rational motive for accumulating wealth, notwithstanding the cant that prevails on the subject of labor.--_Tuckerman._
Envy is the deformed and distorted offspring of egotism.
Knowledge which is the issue of experience is termed mechanical; that which is born and ends {144} in the mind is termed scientific; that which issues from science and ends in manual work is termed semi-mechanical. But I consider vain and full of error that science which is not the offspring of experience, mother of all certitude, and which does not result in established experience, that is to say, whose origin, middle and end do not pass through any of the five senses. And if we doubt of everything we perceive by the senses, should we not doubt much more of what is contrary to the senses, such as the existence of God and of the soul, and similar matters constantly under dispute and contention?
And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Though Christianity has given us a purer and truer idea of the Godhead, of the majesty of His power and the holiness of His will, there remains with many of us the conception of a merely objective Deity. God is still with many of us in the clouds, so far removed from the earth and so high above anything human, that in trying to realise fully the meaning of Christ's teaching we often shrink from approaching too near to the blinding effulgence of Jehovah. The idea that we should stand to Him in the relation of children to their father seems to some people almost irreverent, and the thought that God is near us everywhere, the belief that we are also His offspring, nay, that there has never been an absolute barrier between divinity and humanity, has often been branded as Pantheism. Yet Christianity would not be Christianity without this so-called Pantheism, and it is only some lingering belief in something like a Jove-like Deus Optimus Maximus that keeps the eyes of our mind fixed with awe on the God of Nature without, rather than on the much more awful God of the soul within.
Mankind suffer to this hour, and will for long, as is like, because they do not know what to make of the fire of Prometheus. He dared to purloin from the gods and commit into the hands of ordinary men an element= (fire), =which, as the result has shown, only gods and their wise-hearted offspring can with safety handle.
Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring.
Sine prole=--Without offspring.
Many will consider they can reasonably blame me by alleging that my proofs are contrary to the authority of many men held in great esteem by their inexperienced judgements: overlooking the fact that my works are solely and simply the offspring of experience, which is the veritable master.
Quelqu'eclatante que soit une action, elle ne doit passer pour grande lorsqu'elle n'est pas l'effet d'un grand dessein=--An action should not be regarded as great, however brilliant it may be, if it is not the offspring of a great design.
If you despise painting, which is the only imitator of the visible works of nature, you will certainly despise a subtle invention which with philosophy and subtle speculation apprehends the qualities of forms, backgrounds, places, plants, animals, herbs and flowers, which are surrounded by light and shade. And truly this is knowledge and the legitimate offspring of nature, because painting is begotten by nature. But to be correct, we will say that it is the grandchild of nature, because all visible things are begotten by nature, and these her children have begotten painting. Therefore we shall rightly say that painting is the grandchild of nature and related to God.
All plants and animals exhibit the tendency to vary, the causes of which have yet to be ascertained; it is the tendency of the conditions of life, at any given time, while favouring the existence of the variations best adapted to them, to oppose that of the rest and thus to exercise selection; and all living things tend to multiply without limit, while the means of support are limited; the obvious cause of which is the production of offspring more numerous than their progenitors, but with actual expectation of life in the actuarial sense. Without tne first tendency there could be no evolution. Without the second, there would be no good reason why one variation should disappear and another take its place; that is to say, there would be no selection. Without the third, the struggle for existence, the agent of the selective process in the state of nature, would vanish.
Unworthy offspring brag most of their worthy descent.
The first fault is the child of simplicity, but every other the offspring of guilt.--_Goldsmith._
Nemo pr?sumitur alienam posteritatem su? pr?tulisse=--No one is presumed to have preferred another's offspring to his own.
Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day: Time's noblest offspring is the last.
All our knowledge is the offspring of our perceptions.
There is sentiment in all women, and sentiment gives delicacy to thought, and tact to manner. But sentiment with men is generally acquired, an offspring of the intellectual quality, not, as with the other sex, of the moral.
The check upon this free play of self-assertion, or natural liberty, which is the necessary condition for the origin of human society, is the product of organic necessities of a different land from those upon which the constitution of the hive depends. One of these is the mutual affection of parent and offspring, intensified by the long infancy of the human species. But the most important is the tendency, so strongly developed in man, to reproduce in himself actions and feelings similar to, or correlated with, those of other men. Man is the most consummate of all mimics in the animal world; none but himself can draw or model; none comes near him in the scope, variety, and exactness of vocal imitation; none is such a master of gesture; while he seems to be impelled thus to imitate for the pure pleasure of it. And there is no such another emotional chameleon. By a purely reflex operation of the mind, we take the hue of passion of those who are about us, or, it may be, the complementary colour. It is not by any conscious "putting one's self in the place" of a joyful or a suffering person that the state of mind we call sympathy usually arises; indeed, it is often contrary to one's sense of right, and in spite of one's will, that "fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind," or the reverse. However complete may be the indifference to public opinion, in a cool, intellectual view, of the traditional sage, it has not yet been my fortune to meet with any actual sage who took its hostile manifestations with entire equanimity. Indeed, I doubt if the philosopher lives, or ever has lived, who could know himself to be heartily despised by a street boy without some irritation. And, though one cannot justify Haman for wishing to hang Mordecai on such a very high gibbet, yet, really, the consciousness of the Vizier of Ahasuerus, as he went in and out of the gate, that this obscure Jew had no respect for him, must have been very annoying.
Romance has been elegantly defined as the offspring of fiction and love.
It was the duty of the Apostles and of the early Christians in general to stand forth in the name of the only true God, and to prove to the world that their God had nothing in common with the idols worshipped at Athens and Ephesus. It was the duty of the early converts to forswear all allegiance to their former deities, and if they could not at once bring themselves to believe that the gods whom they had worshipped had no existence at all, they were naturally led on to ascribe to them a kind of demoniacal nature, and to curse them as the offspring of that new principle of Evil with which they had become acquainted in the doctrines of the early Church.... Through the whole of St. Augustine's works, and through all the works of earlier Christian divines, there runs the same spirit of hostility blinding them to all that may be good, and true, and sacred, and magnifying all that is bad, false, and corrupt, in the ancient religions of mankind. Only the Apostles and their immediate disciples venture to speak in a different and, no doubt, in a more truly Christian spirit of the old forms of worships.... What can be more convincing, more powerful, than the language of St. Paul at Athens?
A mother mouse was taking her large brood for a stroll across the kitchen floor one day when the local cat, by a feat of stealth unusual even for its species, managed to trap them in a corner. The children cowered, terrified by this fearsome beast, plaintively crying, "Help, Mother! Save us! Save us! We're scared, Mother!" Mother Mouse, with the hopeless valor of a parent protecting its children, turned with her teeth bared to the cat, towering huge above them, and suddenly began to bark in a fashion that would have done any Doberman proud. The startled cat fled in fear for its life. As her grateful offspring flocked around her shouting "Oh, Mother, you saved us!" and "Yay! You scared the cat away!" she turned to them purposefully and declared, "You see how useful it is to know a second language?"
There was an old Indian belief that by making love on the hide of their favorite animal, one could guarantee the health and prosperity of the offspring conceived thereupon. And so it goes that one Indian couple made love on a buffalo hide. Nine months later, they were blessed with a healthy baby son. Yet another couple huddled together on the hide of a deer and they too were blessed with a very healthy baby son. But a third couple, whose favorite animal was a hippopotamus, were blessed with not one, but TWO very healthy baby sons at the conclusion of the nine month interval. All of which proves the old theorem that: The sons of the squaw of the hippopotamus are equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.
Pull-the-Plug, Slice the Pie: A fantasy in which an offspring mentally tallies up the net worth of his parents. -- Douglas Coupland, "Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture"
FORTUNE DISCUSSES THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN: #8 Going Out: When a man says he is ready to go out, it means he is ready to go out. When a woman says she is ready to go out, it means she WILL be ready to go out, as soon as she finds her earring, finishes putting on her makeup, checks on the kids, makes a phone call to her best friend... Cats: Women love cats. Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.
Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows
about dentist appointments and soccer games and romances and best friends
and favorite foods and secret fears and hopes and dreams. Men are vaguely
aware of some short people living in the house.
Poverty Lurks: Financial paranoia instilled in offspring by depression-era parents. -- Douglas Coupland, "Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture"
28:1. A psalm for David, at the finishing of the tabernacle. Bring to the Lord, O ye children of God: bring to the Lord the offspring of rams.
14:22. And I will rise up against them, saith the Lord of hosts: and I will destroy the name of Babylon, and the remains, and the bud, and the offspring, saith the Lord.
The galleys by Achilles dear to Jove Commanded, when to Ilium's coast he steer'd, Were fifty; fifty rowers sat in each, And five, in whom he trusted, o'er the rest He captains named, but ruled, himself, supreme. One band Menestheus swift in battle led, Offspring of Sperchius heaven-descended stream. Him Polydora, Peleus' daughter, bore To ever-flowing Sperchius, compress'd, Although a mortal woman, by a God. But his reputed father was the son Of Perieres, Borus, who with dower Enrich'd, and made her openly his bride. Warlike Eudorus led the second band. Him Polymela, graceful in the dance, And daughter beautiful of Phylas, bore, A mother unsuspected of a child. Her worshiping the golden-shafted Queen Diana, in full choir, with song and dance, The valiant Argicide beheld and loved. Ascending with her to an upper room, All-bounteous Mercury clandestine there Embraced her, who a noble son produced Eudorus, swift to run, and bold in fight. No sooner Ilithya, arbitress Of pangs puerperal, had given him birth, And he beheld the beaming sun, than her Echechleus, Actor's mighty son, enrich'd With countless dower, and led her to his home; While ancient Phylas, cherishing her boy With fond affection, reared him as his own. The third brave troop warlike Pisander led, Offspring of Maimalus; he far excell'd In spear-fight every Myrmidon, the friend Of Peleus' dauntless son alone except. The hoary Phoenix of equestrian fame The fourth band led to battle, and the fifth Laërceus' offspring, bold Alcimedon. Thus, all his bands beneath their proper Chiefs Marshall'd, Achilles gave them strict command--
He ceased; they gnawing stood their lips, aghast With wonder that Telemachus in his speech Such boldness used. Then rose Amphinomus, Brave son of Nisus offspring of the King Aretus, and the assembly thus address'd.
Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud, To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd; And thus the beardless victor he bespoke aloud: "Advance, illustrious youth, increase in fame, And wide from east to west extend thy name; Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe To thee a race of demigods below. This is the way to heav'n: the pow'rs divine From this beginning date the Julian line. To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, The conquer'd war is due, and the vast world is theirs. Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said, And plunging downward shot his radiant head; Dispell'd the breathing air, that broke his flight: Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight. Old Butes' form he took, Anchises' squire, Now left, to rule Ascanius, by his sire: His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs, His mien, his habit, and his arms, he wears, And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years: "Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son, The warlike prize thou hast already won. The god of archers gives thy youth a part Of his own praise, nor envies equal art. Now tempt the war no more." He said, and flew Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view. The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know, And hear the twanging of his heav'nly bow. Then duteous force they use, and Phoebus' name, To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame. Undaunted, they themselves no danger shun; From wall to wall the shouts and clamors run. They bend their bows; they whirl their slings around; Heaps of spent arrows fall, and strew the ground; And helms, and shields, and rattling arms resound. The combat thickens, like the storm that flies From westward, when the show'ry Kids arise; Or patt'ring hail comes pouring on the main, When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain, Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, And with an armed winter strew the ground.
He said, and by his words into all hearts Fresh confidence infused. Then Hector smote Schedius, a Chief of the Phocensian powers And son of Perimedes; Ajax slew, Meantime, a Chief of Trojan infantry, Laodamas, Antenor's noble son While by Polydamas, a leader bold Of the Epeans, and Phylides' friend, Cyllenian Otus died. Meges that sight Viewing indignant on the conqueror sprang, But, starting wide, Polydamas escaped, Saved by Apollo, and his spear transpierced The breast of Cræsmus; on his sounding shield Prostrate he fell, and Meges stripp'd his arms. Him so employ'd Dolops assail'd, brave son Of Lampus, best of men and bold in fight, Offspring of King Laomedon; he stood Full near, and through his middle buckler struck The son of Phyleus, but his corselet thick With plates of scaly brass his life secured. That corselet Phyleus on a time brought home From Ephyre, where the Selleïs winds, And it was given him for his life's defence In furious battle by the King of men, Euphetes. Many a time had it preserved Unharm'd the sire, and now it saved the son. Then Meges, rising, with his pointed lance The bushy crest of Dolops' helmet drove Sheer from its base; new-tinged with purple bright Entire it fell and mingled with the dust. While thus they strove, each hoping victory, Came martial Menelaus to the aid Of Meges; spear in hand apart he stood By Dolops unperceived, through his back drove And through his breast the spear, and far beyond. And down fell Dolops, forehead to the ground. At once both flew to strip his radiant arms, Then, Hector summoning his kindred, call'd Each to his aid, and Melanippus first, Illustrious Hicetaon's son, reproved. Ere yet the enemies of Troy arrived He in Percote fed his wandering beeves; But when the Danaï with all their fleet Came thither, then returning, he outshone The noblest Trojans, and at Priam's side Dwelling, was honor'd by him as a son. Him Hector reprimanding, stern began.
He said; they all unanimous approach'd, Sloping their shields, and stood. On the other side His aids Æneas call'd, with eyes toward Paris, Deiphobus, Agenor, turn'd, His fellow-warriors bold; them follow'd all Their people as the pastured flock the ram To water, by the shepherd seen with joy; Such joy Æneas felt, seeing, so soon, That numerous host attendant at his call. Then, for Alcathoüs, into contest close Arm'd with long spears they rush'd; on every breast Dread rang the brazen corselet, each his foe Assailing opposite; but two, the rest Surpassing far, terrible both as Mars, Æneas and Idomeneus, alike Panted to pierce each other with the spear. Æneas, first, cast at Idomeneus, But, warn'd, he shunn'd the weapon, and it pass'd. Quivering in the soil Æneas' lance Stood, hurl'd in vain, though by a forceful arm. Not so the Cretan; at his waist he pierced Oenomaüs, his hollow corselet clave, And in his midmost bowels drench'd the spear; Down fell the Chief, and dying, clench'd the dust. Instant, his massy spear the King of Crete Pluck'd from the dead, but of his radiant arms Despoil'd him not, by numerous weapons urged; For now, time-worn, he could no longer make Brisk sally, spring to follow his own spear, Or shun another, or by swift retreat Vanish from battle, but the evil day Warded in stationary fight alone. At him retiring, therefore, step by step Deiphobus, who had with bitterest hate Long time pursued him, hurl'd his splendid lance, But yet again erroneous, for he pierced Ascalaphus instead, offspring of Mars; Right through his shoulder flew the spear; he fell Incontinent, and dying, clench'd the dust. But tidings none the brazen-throated Mars Tempestuous yet received, that his own son In bloody fight had fallen, for on the heights Olympian over-arch'd with clouds of gold He sat, where sat the other Powers divine, Prisoners together of the will of Jove. Meantime, for slain Ascalaphus arose Conflict severe; Deiphobus his casque Resplendent seized, but swift as fiery Mars Assailing him, Meriones his arm Pierced with a spear, and from his idle hand Fallen, the casque sonorous struck the ground. Again, as darts the vulture on his prey, Meriones assailing him, the lance Pluck'd from his arm, and to his band retired. Then, casting his fraternal arms around Deiphobus, him young Polites led From the hoarse battle to his rapid steeds And his bright chariot in the distant rear, Which bore him back to Troy, languid and loud- Groaning, and bleeding from his recent wound. Still raged the war, and infinite arose The clamor. Aphareus, Caletor's son, Turning to face Æneas, in his throat Instant the hero's pointed lance received. With head reclined, and bearing to the ground Buckler and helmet with him, in dark shades Of soul-divorcing death involved, he fell. Antilochus, observing Thoön turn'd To flight, that moment pierced him; from his back He ripp'd the vein which through the trunk its course Winds upward to the neck; that vein he ripp'd All forth; supine he fell, and with both hands Extended to his fellow-warriors, died. Forth sprang Antilochus to strip his arms, But watch'd, meantime, the Trojans, who in crowds Encircling him, his splendid buckler broad Smote oft, but none with ruthless point prevail'd Even to inscribe the skin of Nestor's son, Whom Neptune, shaker of the shores, amid Innumerable darts kept still secure. Yet never from his foes he shrank, but faced From side to side, nor idle slept his spear, But with rotation ceaseless turn'd and turn'd To every part, now levell'd at a foe Far-distant, at a foe, now, near at hand. Nor he, thus occupied, unseen escaped By Asius' offspring Adamas, who close Advancing, struck the centre of his shield. But Neptune azure-hair'd so dear a life Denied to Adamas, and render'd vain The weapon; part within his disk remain'd Like a seer'd stake, and part fell at his feet. Then Adamas, for his own life alarm'd, Retired, but as he went, Meriones Him reaching with his lance, the shame between And navel pierced him, where the stroke of Mars Proves painful most to miserable man. There enter'd deep the weapon; down he fell, And in the dust lay panting as an ox Among the mountains pants by peasants held In twisted bands, and dragg'd perforce along; So panted dying Adamas, but soon Ceased, for Meriones, approaching, pluck'd The weapon forth, and darkness veil'd his eyes. Helenus, with his heavy Thracian blade Smiting the temples of Deipyrus, Dash'd off his helmet; from his brows remote It fell, and wandering roll'd, till at his feet Some warrior found it, and secured; meantime The sightless shades of death him wrapp'd around. Grief at that spectacle the bosom fill'd Of valiant Menelaus; high he shook His radiant spear, and threatening him, advanced On royal Helenus, who ready stood With his bow bent. They met; impatient, one, To give his pointed lance its rapid course, And one, to start his arrow from the nerve. The arrow of the son of Priam struck Atrides' hollow corselet, but the reed Glanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans Leap from the van and fly athwart the floor, By sharp winds driven, and by the winnower's force, So from the corselet of the glorious Greek Wide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away. But Menelaus the left-hand transpierced Of Helenus, and with the lance's point Fasten'd it to his bow; shunning a stroke More fatal, Helenus into his band Retired, his arm dependent at his side, And trailing, as he went, the ashen beam; There, bold Agenor from his hand the lance Drew forth, then folded it with softest wool Around, sling-wool, and borrow'd from the sling Which his attendant into battle bore. Then sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief The son of Atreus, but his evil fate Beckon'd him to his death in conflict fierce, Oh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee. And now they met, small interval between. Atrides hurl'd his weapon, and it err'd. Pisander with his spear struck full the shield Of glorious Menelaus, but his force Resisted by the stubborn buckler broad Fail'd to transpierce it, and the weapon fell Snapp'd at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart Rebounded of Pisander, full of hope. But Menelaus, drawing his bright blade, Sprang on him, while Pisander from behind His buckler drew a brazen battle-axe By its long haft of polish'd olive-wood, And both Chiefs struck together. He the crest That crown'd the shaggy casque of Atreus' son Hew'd from its base, but Menelaus him In his swift onset smote full on the front Above his nose; sounded the shatter'd bone, And his eyes both fell bloody at his feet. Convolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast Atrides setting fast his heel, tore off His armor, and exulting thus began.