Estimations in Criticism: Prose-writers: Edward Gibbon. Thomas Babington Maccaulay. The Waverley novels. Charles Dickens. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Sterne and Thackery. IndexA. Melrose, 1909 |
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admiration artistic beauty character characteristic charm Christian CHRISTINA G common criticism defect delicate delineation described Dickens Dickens's Edward Gibbon elements England English excellence excitement fact fancy father feeling French genius Gibbon give Guy Mannering historian Horace Walpole human nature humour idea imagination intellect interest kind Lady Mary language letters literary lived London look Lord Macaulay Macaulay's manner Martin Chuzzlewit matter ment mind moral narration narrative never novelist novels observation Old Mortality Oliver Twist ordinary painful passion peace of Utrecht peculiar perhaps persons Pickwick Pickwick Papers pleasure political probably Puritan readers remarkable Roman sagacity scarcely scenes Scott seems sensible sentiment sermons Sir Walter Scott society sort Sterne Sterne's style Tacitus taste tell Thackeray things thou thought tion Tristram Shandy uncle Toby Waverley Novels whole wish Wortley writing young ladies youth
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Стр. 81 - Their breath is agitation, and their life A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last, And yet so nursed and bigoted to strife, That should their days surviving perils past, Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast With sorrow and supineness, and so die; Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste With its own flickering, or a sword laid by, Which...
Стр. 122 - Pent in this fortress of the North, Think'st thou we will not sally forth, To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey...
Стр. 54 - Had I believed that the majority of English readers were so fondly attached even to the name and shadow of Christianity; had I foreseen that the pious, the timid, and the prudent, would feel, or affect to feel, with such exquisite sensibility, I might, perhaps, have softened the two invidious chapters, which would create many enemies, and conciliate few friends.
Стр. 91 - The perfect historian is he in whose work the character and spirit of an age is exhibited in miniature. He relates no fact, he attributes no expression to his characters, which is not authenticated by sufficient testimony. But, by judicious selection, rejection, and arrangement, he gives to truth those attractions which have been usurped by fiction.
Стр. 160 - ... into a dark letterbox, in a dark office, up a dark court in Fleet Street — appeared in all the glory of print; on which occasion, by-the-bye, — how well I recollect it!
Стр. 90 - But of the vast and complex system of society, of the fine shades of national character, of the practical operation of government and laws, he knows nothing. He who would understand these things rightly must not confine his observations to palaces and solemn days. He must see ordinary men as they appear in their ordinary business, and in their ordinary pleasures.
Стр. 54 - 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...
Стр. 244 - My dear good lady," replied the author, "do not be gulled by such stories; the book is like your young heir there (pointing to a child of three years old, who was rolling on the carpet in his white tunics), he shows at times a good deal that is usually concealed, but it is all in perfect innocence!
Стр. 99 - The natural effect of this state of things was that a crowd of projectors, ingenious and absurd, honest and knavish, employed themselves in devising new schemes for the employment of redundant capital. It was about the year 1688 that the word stockjobber was first heard in London. In the short space of four years a crowd of companies, every one of which confidently held out to subscribers the hope of immense gains, sprang into existence : the Insurance...
Стр. 121 - These fertile plains, that softened vale, Were once the birthright of the Gael; The stranger came with iron hand, And from our fathers reft the land. Where dwell we now ? See rudely swell Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. Ask we this savage hill we tread, For...