Page:Cyclopedia of illustrations for public speakers, containing facts, incidents, stories, experiences, anecdotes, selections, etc., for illustrative purposes, with cross-references; (IA cyclopediaofillu00scotrich).pdf/62

 Beggary—See.

BEGINNING, RIGHT

R. H. Haweis gives this opinion about learning to play the violin, which applies equally well to all training of youth:

Ought young children to begin upon small-*sized violins? All makers say "Yes"; naturally, for they supply the new violins of all sizes. But I emphatically say "No." The sooner the child is accustomed to the right violin intervals the better; the small violins merely present him with a series of wrong distances, which he has successively to unlearn.

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See.

BEGINNINGS DETERMINE ENDINGS

When the toper lies dead over his cups there is an invisible line that runs back from his death to the first dram. When the aged saint lies triumphant in his last sleep that victory is related to his mother's lullaby and to his own first prayer. The broad estuary where the fleets of a nation float may be traced back to its fountain among the green hills in which a little child may wade or a robin rustle its feathers without fear. The faith that overcomes the world is the consummation of the faith when, in fear and trembling, the young convert first placed his hand in the hand of God. The first step on the stair is a prophecy of the landing. When we start right we have only to keep on in that direction and the end will be more than we longed for.

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Beginnings of Great Men—See.

BEING BEFORE DOING

"He that would hope to write well here-*after in laudable things," says Milton, "ought himself to be a true poem; that is, a composition and pattern of the best and most honorable things." Here is a new proposition in art which suggests the lofty ideal of Fra Angelico, that before one can write literature, which is the expression of the ideal, he must first develop in himself the ideal man. Because Milton is human he must know the best in humanity; therefore he studies, giving his days to music, art, and literature; his nights to profound research and meditation. But because he knows that man is more than mortal he also prays, depending, as he tells us, on "devout prayer to that eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge."—, "English Literature."

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Belated Honors—See.

Belief not Destroyed by Mysteries—See .

Belief Required—See.

BELLS

We have given up announcing the miracle of transubstantiation or putting to flight storms and demons or managing exorcism by bell, book and candle, but bells as sweet as the Angelus still ring over our English fields and woodlands on Sunday. The passing-bell in a country churchyard is full of pathos and memory, breaking the stillness and arresting for a moment the busy hay-*makers as they pause to listen, and remember some old comrade who will no more be seen in their ranks. The solemn bell at our midnight services, now so customary on the last evening in each year throughout the land, is also charged with hallowed thoughts; indeed, I know few things more thrilling than that watch-night bell, which seems as the crowd kneels within to beat away on its waves of sound the hopes and fears, and tumultuous passions of the dead year when its echoes have ceased those kneeling crowds feel that one more chapter in the book of life has been written, that ringing voice has sealed the troubled past and heralded in with its iron, inexorable, tho trembling lips the unknown future. What with the dinner-bell, safety yard bell, school, factory and jail bells, small cupola spring-bells, safety electric bells, not to forget baby's coral and bells, bell-rattles, last reminiscence of the extinct fool's cap and bells, and fool's wand, with its crown of jingling baubles, we seem never to hear the last of bells. Bells are the land-*marks of history as well as the daily ministers to our religious and secular life. The bell's tongue is impartial and passionless as fate. It tolls for the king's death "Le roi est mort." It rings in his successor, "Vive le roi." The cynical bells rang out as Henry VIII led wife after wife to the altar, the loyal bells rang out for the birth of Charles I, and the disloyal ones tolled again for his execution. The bells of Chester rang a peal for Trafalgar, alternated with a deep toll for the death of Nelson, and some of us can