Historical Pictures Retouched: A Volume of Miscellanies. In Two Parts

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Page 290 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden-flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was, to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor...
Page 62 - Within her — let her make herself her own To give or keep, to live and learn and be All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
Page iv - No doubt, there's something strikes a balance. Yes, You loved me quite enough, it seems to-night. This must suffice me here. What would one have? In heaven, perhaps, new chances, one more chance...
Page 220 - ... much interested. In the sketch of her he sent to Goethe it is well said, " She insists on explaining everything, understanding everything, measuring everything. She admits of no Darkness, nothing Incommensurable ; and where her torch throws no light, there nothing can exist. Hence her horror for the Ideal Philosophy, which she thinks leads to mysticism and superstition. For what we call poetry she has no sense ; she can only appreciate what is passionate, rhetorical, universal. She does not prize...
Page 237 - I do not now feel the need," she wrote once; and on the next page, "Blessed Father! lead me any way to truth and goodness, but if it might be, I would not pass from idol to idol. Lead me, my Father, enable me to root out pride and selfishness." "Margaret, has God's light dawned on your soul?" some friend questions; and she answers, with a truly Christian humility, "I think it has.
Page 229 - Trained to great dexterity in artificial methods, accurate, ready, with entire command of his resources, he had no belief in minds that listen, wait, and receive. He had no conception of the subtle and indirect motions of imagination and feeling. His influence on me was great, and opposed to the natural unfolding of my character, which was fervent, of strong grasp, and disposed to infatuation, and self-forgetfulness.
Page 135 - WITH stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right That music of my nature, day and night With dream and thought and feeling interwound, And inly answering all the senses round With octaves of a mystic depth and height Which step out grandly to the infinite From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
Page 236 - She had so profound a faith in truth, that thoughts to her were things," writes Mr. Clarke ; and because they were of the essence of God himself, she dealt with them so subtilely, so earnestly, and so unsparingly. It was religious aspiration which spoke in her when she wrote, " No fortunate purple isle exists for me now, and all these hopes and fancies are lifted from the sea into the sky." " Never was my mind so active," she writes a little afterward, " and the subjects are God, the universe, and...
Page 233 - His arrogance," she says of Carlyle, "does not in the least proceed from an unwillingness to allow freedom to others. No man would more enjoy a manly resistance. It is the habit of a mind accustomed to follow its own impulse, as a hawk does its prey. He is indeed arrogant and overbearing, but in his arrogance there is no trace of littleness or self-love. It is in his nature, in the untamable energy that has given him power to crush the dragons.

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