The Spirit of the Age Or Contemporary Portraits, Том 2Colburn, 1825 - 424 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 71
Сторінка 23
... style is unpopular , not to say unintelligible . He writes a language of his own , that darkens knowledge . His works have been translated into French - they ought to be translated into English . People wonder that Mr. Bentham has not ...
... style is unpopular , not to say unintelligible . He writes a language of his own , that darkens knowledge . His works have been translated into French - they ought to be translated into English . People wonder that Mr. Bentham has not ...
Сторінка 24
... style , with the dust and cobwebs of an obscure solitude . The best of it is , he thinks his present mode of expressing himself perfect , and that what- ever may be objected to his law or logic , no one can find the least fault with the ...
... style , with the dust and cobwebs of an obscure solitude . The best of it is , he thinks his present mode of expressing himself perfect , and that what- ever may be objected to his law or logic , no one can find the least fault with the ...
Сторінка 48
... style and continuity of feeling for what he wants in variety of incident or ease of manner . This neces- sary defect is observable in his best works , and is still more so in Fleetwood and Mandeville ; the one of which , compared with ...
... style and continuity of feeling for what he wants in variety of incident or ease of manner . This neces- sary defect is observable in his best works , and is still more so in Fleetwood and Mandeville ; the one of which , compared with ...
Сторінка 66
... style and that of the John Bull ( Arbuthnot's we mean , not Mr. Croker's ) , and dallied with the British Essayists and Novelists , and knew all quali- ties of more modern writers with a learned spirit , Johnson , and Goldsmith , and ...
... style and that of the John Bull ( Arbuthnot's we mean , not Mr. Croker's ) , and dallied with the British Essayists and Novelists , and knew all quali- ties of more modern writers with a learned spirit , Johnson , and Goldsmith , and ...
Сторінка 80
... style and mode of thinking , than by any thing else . But he has con- trived to jumble these several characters together in an unheard - of and unwarranted manner , and the fas- cination is altogether irresistible . Our Caledonian ...
... style and mode of thinking , than by any thing else . But he has con- trived to jumble these several characters together in an unheard - of and unwarranted manner , and the fas- cination is altogether irresistible . Our Caledonian ...
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration affectation argument beauty Ben Jonson Bentham breath Caleb Williams candour character Cobbett Coleridge common common-place critic delight Edinburgh Review eloquence equally fancy feelings flowers friends genius give Godwin grace ground habit hand heart Heaven honour House human idle imagination intellect Irving JEREMY BENTHAM less liberty light live look Lord Byron LORD ELDON Lyrical Ballads Malthus manner means ment mind modern moral Muse nature ness never object opinion pain passion perhaps person philosopher poem poet poetical poetry political popular prejudices pretensions pride principle quaint question racter reader reason Review Scotch sense sentiment servility Sir Francis Burdett Sir James Mackintosh Sir Walter Sir Walter Scott sort Southey speak spirit spleen striking style talent taste thing thought tion tone Tooke truth turn vanity verse virtue Whig wild word writings
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 363 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry ! Few, few, shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Сторінка 143 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Сторінка 362 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Сторінка 58 - That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct As water is in water.
Сторінка 398 - High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded of things past, And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
Сторінка 262 - Out went the taper as she hurried in ; Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died: She closed the door, she panted, all akin To spirits of the air, and visions wide : No uttered syllable, or, woe betide...
Сторінка 70 - Diminished shrunk from the more withering scene ! Ah Bard tremendous in sublimity ! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood Wandering at eve with finely frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood ! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood : Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy ! LINES COMPOSED WHILE CLIMBING THE LEFT ASCENT OF BROCKLEY COOMB, SOMERSETSHIRE, MAY, 1795.
Сторінка 382 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Сторінка 191 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Сторінка 262 - But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.