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Alleyn almoſt apartment appeared approaching arms Athlin attachment attend Baron Baronefs beheld brother brought caftle caſtle Chief clan concealed Count Countefs danger daughter death defign diſcovered door dreadful Dunbayne Earl effect effort emotions endeavoured entered equal eſcape eyes faid faint fame father fear feelings feemed feized fell fervants fhould fight filence fince fituation foldier followed fome foon force formed forrow fought foul friends ftill fuffered fufficient furprize fword gave ground guard hand heard heart herſelf himſelf hope hour idea imagination immediately knew Laura length light loft looked lord Malcolm Mary Matilda means ment mind moment mother nature never night obferved object Ofbert offers once opened paffed paffion peace perceived perfon prefent preparations prifon purpoſe quitted received remained retired returned ſcene ſhe tears tender theſe thoſe thought tion touched turned vaults virtue voice walls whofe whoſe
Page 4 - When first we enter on the theatre of the world, and begin to notice the objects that surround us, young imagination heightens every scene, and the warm heart expands to all around it. The happy benevolence of our feelings prompts us to believe that every body is good, and excites our wonder why every body is not happy. We are fired with indignation at the recital of an act of injustice, and at the unfeeling vices of which we are told. At a tale of distress our tears flow a full tribute to pity.
Page 5 - At a deed of virtue our heart unfolds, our soul aspires ; we bless the action, and feel ourselves the doer. As we advance in life, imagination is compelled to relinquish a part of her sweet delirium ; we are led reluctantly to truth through the paths of experience ; and the objects of our fond attention are viewed with a severer eye. Here an altered scene appears;— -frowns where late were smiles ; deep shades where late was sunshine: mean passions, or disgusting apathy, stain the features of the...
Page 8 - He loved to wander among the romantic scenes of the Highlands, where the wild variety of nature inspired him with all the enthusiasm of his favourite art. He delighted in the terrible and in the grand, more than in the softer landscape ; and wrapt in in the bright visions of fancy, would often lose himself in awful solitudes.
Page 26 - Its lofty towers frowned in proud sublimity, and the immensity of the pile stood a record of the ancient consequence of its possessors.
Page 280 - Virtue may for a time be pursued by misfortune, — and justice be obscured by the transient triumph of vice; — but the Power whose peculiar attributes they are clears away the clouds of error and even in this world establishes his THRONE OF JUSTICE.
Page 9 - ... was in one of these rambles, that having strayed for some miles over hills covered with heath, from whence the eye was presented with only the bold outlines of uncultivated nature, rocks piled on rocks, cataracts and vast moors unmarked by the foot of traveller, he lost the path which he had himself made; he looked in vain for the objects which had directed him; and his heart, for the first time, felt the repulse of fear. No vestige of a human being was to be seen; and the dreadful silence of...
Page 36 - He racked imagination for the invention of tortures equal to the force of his feelings ; and he at length discovered that the sufferings of suspense are superior to those of the most terrible evils, when once ascertained, of which the contemplation gradually affords to strong minds the means of endurance.
Page 101 - The murderer of the husband now sought 10 murder the happiness of the daughter. On the sentence of the mother hung the final fate of the son. In rejecting these terms, she would give him instant death ; in accepting them, her conduct would be repugnant to the feelings of indignant virtue, and to the tender injured memory of her murdered lord. She would destroy for ever the peace of her daughter, and the honour of her house.
Page 185 - ... long succession, to the shore, where they burst in white foam' (MU, vol. iii, p. 390 (c. xxxvi, p. 73)). dashed the foaming waves against the rocks with inconceivable fury. The spray, notwithstanding the high situation of the castle, flew up with violence against the windows. . . . The moon shone faintly by intervals, through broken clouds upon the waters, illuming the white foam which burst around.'1 That, whether we like it or not, is Mrs. Radcliffe; and if we transport Claude's castle with...