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Abbey American appeared Arnold Bacon beautiful Bickerstaff Born Boston called Carlyle Carlyle's Catholic Charles Lamb Charterhouse School child Chronology Church Coleridge critic culture death Dickens died doubtless Ecclefechan Edinburgh Review Emerson England English essayist experience expressed father Hazlitt honor human Hunt's ideas intellectual Irving Isaac Bickerstaff Johnson knowledge labor later Latin learned lectures Leigh Hunt letters lish literary literature living London Lord Macaulay Magazine Matthew Arnold mind Montaigne nature never Newman nineteenth century novelist old familiar faces Oxford papers period Philistinism poems poet poetry political preach preacher prose published Quincey reader religion Robert Louis Stevenson Ruskin Sartor Sartor Resartus says School seems Sketch Book Spectator spirit Steele and Addison Stevenson Tatler Thackeray things Thomas thought tion to-day tour Trinity College truth Unitarian University Vanity Fair verse volumes Westminster Abbey William Hazlitt Wordsworth writing wrote
Page 132 - Truth, for its own sake, had never been a virtue with the Roman clergy. Father Newman informs us that it need not, and on the whole ought not to be; that cunning is the weapon which heaven has given to the Saints wherewith to withstand the brute male force of the wicked world which marries and is given in marriage. Whether his notion be doctrinally correct or not, it is at least historically so.
Page 194 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Page 72 - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me.
Page 118 - And she may still exist in undiminished vigour when some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's.
Page 153 - Vanity Fair admired in high places? I cannot tell; but I think if some of those amongst whom he hurls the Greek fire of his sarcasm, and over whom he flashes the levin-brand of his denunciation, were to take his warnings in time - they or their seed might yet escape a fatal Ramoth-Gilead.
Page 191 - This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that I have a friendly game with that gentleman.
Page 153 - There is a man in our own days whose words are not framed to tickle delicate ears ; who, to my thinking, comes before the great ones of society much as the son of Imlah came before the throned kings of Judah and Israel ; and who speaks truth as deep, with a power as prophet-like and as vital — a mien as dauntless and as daring. Is the satirist of " Vanity Fair
Page 37 - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have had playmates, I have had companions, In, my days of childhood, in my joyful school days— All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Page 158 - No more firing was heard at Brussels — the pursuit rolled miles away. Darkness came down on the field and city : and Amelia was praying for George, who was lying on his face, dead, with a bullet through his heart.
Page 176 - ... always done so and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the Eternal was stirring at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the...