The Spirit of the Age, Or, Contemporary PortraitsH. Colburn, 1825 - 424 стор. |
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Сторінка 8
... human mind . He cannot be looked upon in the light of a discoverer in legis- lation or morals . He has not struck out any great leading principle or parent - truth , from which a num- ber of others might be deduced ; nor has he enriched ...
... human mind . He cannot be looked upon in the light of a discoverer in legis- lation or morals . He has not struck out any great leading principle or parent - truth , from which a num- ber of others might be deduced ; nor has he enriched ...
Сторінка 9
... human nature , and the caprices and irregularities of the human will . " He has not allowed for the wind . " It is not that you can be said to see his favourite doctrine of Utility glittering everywhere through his system , like a vein ...
... human nature , and the caprices and irregularities of the human will . " He has not allowed for the wind . " It is not that you can be said to see his favourite doctrine of Utility glittering everywhere through his system , like a vein ...
Сторінка 10
... human life to a caput mortuum of reason , and dull , plodding , technical calculation . The gentleman is himself a capital logician ; and he has been led by this circumstance to consider man as a logical animal . We fear this view of ...
... human life to a caput mortuum of reason , and dull , plodding , technical calculation . The gentleman is himself a capital logician ; and he has been led by this circumstance to consider man as a logical animal . We fear this view of ...
Сторінка 13
... human being is , no doubt , as much worth in himself , independently of the cir- cumstances of time or place , as another ; but he is not of so much value to us and our affections . Could our imagination take wing ( with our speculative ...
... human being is , no doubt , as much worth in himself , independently of the cir- cumstances of time or place , as another ; but he is not of so much value to us and our affections . Could our imagination take wing ( with our speculative ...
Сторінка 22
... human mind resembles a map , rather than a picture : the outline , the dispo- sition is correct , but it wants colouring and relief . There is a technicality of manner , which renders his writings of more value to the professional ...
... human mind resembles a map , rather than a picture : the outline , the dispo- sition is correct , but it wants colouring and relief . There is a technicality of manner , which renders his writings of more value to the professional ...
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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...
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 363 - 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!
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 145 - Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?
Сторінка 383 - ... gleam Variously in the crimson beam Of the warm West,— as if inlaid With brilliants from the mine, or made Of tearless rainbows, such as span The unclouded skies of Peristan.