Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon Talfourd |
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Page 9
... less forlorn , " in their busy career ! The good house - wife , who is employed all her life in the severest 66 drudgery , has yet some glimmerings of a state 2 ON BRITISH NOVELS AND ROMANCES, INTRODUCTORY TO SERIES OF CRITICISMS ON THE ...
... less forlorn , " in their busy career ! The good house - wife , who is employed all her life in the severest 66 drudgery , has yet some glimmerings of a state 2 ON BRITISH NOVELS AND ROMANCES, INTRODUCTORY TO SERIES OF CRITICISMS ON THE ...
Page 13
... less pleasing than its stately proto- type . It is a sort of spirited defiance to fiction , on the be- half of reality , by one who knew full well all the strong holds of that nature which he was defending . There is not in Fielding ...
... less pleasing than its stately proto- type . It is a sort of spirited defiance to fiction , on the be- half of reality , by one who knew full well all the strong holds of that nature which he was defending . There is not in Fielding ...
Page 14
... less merit as a story - but it depicts Parson Adams , whom it does the heart good to think on . He who drew this character , if he had done nothing else , would not have lived in vain . We fancy we can see him with his torn cassock ...
... less merit as a story - but it depicts Parson Adams , whom it does the heart good to think on . He who drew this character , if he had done nothing else , would not have lived in vain . We fancy we can see him with his torn cassock ...
Page 15
... less deep than that of Roderick Random , but sweeter tinges of fancy are cast over it . The sphere in which Goldsmith's powers moved , was never very extensive , but , within it , he disco- vered all that was good , and shed on it the ...
... less deep than that of Roderick Random , but sweeter tinges of fancy are cast over it . The sphere in which Goldsmith's powers moved , was never very extensive , but , within it , he disco- vered all that was good , and shed on it the ...
Page 22
... less delightful from carrying a sort of fear along with that delight : it was like a pulse in the soul ! " The last scenes of this novel are matchless in their kind . Never was so much of the terrific alleviated by so much of the ...
... less delightful from carrying a sort of fear along with that delight : it was like a pulse in the soul ! " The last scenes of this novel are matchless in their kind . Never was so much of the terrific alleviated by so much of the ...
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Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon Talfourd Thomas Noon Talfourd, Sir No preview available - 2016 |
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admiration affections amidst appears bard beauty breath cause character colouring Coriolanus court criticism death deep delicate delight divine dream earth Edinburgh Review eloquence emotions eternal excite exhibit exquisite faculties fancy fantastic feeling genius gentle give glorious glory grace grandeur happy harmony Hazlitt heart heaven honour hope human Iago images imagination immortal inspired intense Julius Cæsar justice King's Bench less Lisbon living look Lord Lord Byron lordship majesty marriage Middle Temple mighty mind moral nature ness never Nisi Prius noble noblest Old Bailey once Othello passion pleasure poems poet poetical poetry racters render rich romance Rylstone scarcely scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare shed Sir Thomas Browne solemn sorrow soul species specta spirit strange sublime sweet sympathy Tagus taste Temple things thought tion touch tragedy truth vast virtue voice wild Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 121 - Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea, Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 118 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 122 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page 121 - I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 120 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Page 118 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man...
Page 182 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Page 79 - Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man...
Page 104 - The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city, boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth, Far sinking into splendour — without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright...
Page 121 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing...