But Turner counted his pines, and did all that could be done for them,
and rested content with that.

So in all the affairs of life, the arithmetical part of the business is
the dominant one. How many and how much have we? How many and how much
do we want? How constantly does noble Arithmetic of the finite lose
itself in base Avarice of the Infinite, and in blind imagination of it!
In counting of minutes, is our arithmetic ever solicitous enough? In
counting our days, is she ever severe enough? How we shrink from
putting, in their decades, the diminished store of them! And if we ever
pray the solemn prayer that we may be taught to number them, do we even
try to do it after praying?

_Technical Points_.--The Pythagoras almost entirely genuine. The
upper figures, from this inclusive to the outer wall, I have not been
able to examine thoroughly, my scaffolding not extending beyond the
Geometry.

Here then we have the sum of sciences,--seven, according to the
Florentine mind--necessary to the secular education of man and woman.
Of these the modern average respectable English gentleman and
gentlewoman know usually only a little of the last, and entirely hate
the prudent applications of that: being unacquainted, except as they
chance here and there to pick up a broken piece of information, with
either grammar, rhetoric, music, [Footnote: Being able to play the
piano and admire Mendelssohn is not knowing music.] astronomy, or
geometry; and are not only unacquainted with logic, or the use of
reason, themselves, but instinctively antagonistic to its use by
anybody else.