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And he begat on her a son named Bharata. "The mother is but the sheath of flesh in which the father begets the son. Indeed the father himself is the son. Therefore, O Dushmanta, support thy son and insult not Sakuntala. O god among men, the father himself becoming the son rescueth himself from hell. Sakuntala hath truly said that thou art the author of this child's being.

As to Polonius' answer: 'Though this be madness, yet there's method in it, the public had no difficulty in finding out what was meant by that 'madness, and to whom it applied. What may the great master have thought of an author who, as Montaigne does, jots down everything in kaleidoscopic manner, just as changeful accident brings it into his head? In Essay III. we read:

Our belief is that the author found it floating about, and thinking it would do for Jonah, inserted it in his narrative, without even taking the trouble to furbish it into decent keeping with the situation. The word of the Lord came unto Jonah a second time, and presuming no more to disobey, he went to Nineveh.

I ought doubtless to have been humiliated by the simplicity of his judgment of them, a judgment for which the rendering was lost in the subject, quite leaving out the element of art. He was like the innocent reader for whom the story is "really true" and the author a negligible quantity.

Indianapolis being by general consent the present chief center of letters in the United States, it is not surprising that I, an author, knew more people from Indianapolis than from any other city. Indeed, I went to Indianapolis simply because I had old friends there, and not at all in the hope of inspecting a city characteristically American.

How am I to aid you? I went, at twelve o'clock last night, to see a dying man, and, passing along the street, saw a light burning from your window. Two hours later, as I returned, it glimmered there still. Why were you up? Beulah, what is the matter with you? Has your last treatise on the 'Origin of Ideas' run away with those of its author, and landed you both in a region of vagaries?

There were but two exceptions in the box to the rule of substituting the name of Bragdon for that of the actual author; one of these was an Old Testament, on the fly-leaf of which Bragdon had written, "To my dear friend Bragdon," and signed "The Author."

Nearly all knew him by name, and had heard of his poems; and nearly all, too, like the rector of Market Deeping, expressed their surprise that an author should retail his own productions.

As soon as the nations undertook to make God speak, each made Him speak in its own way. If men had listened only to what He says in their hearts, there had been but one religion upon earth. "I meditate on the order of the universe, not to explain it by vain systems, but to admire it unceasingly, to adore the wise Author who is felt in it.

For this last writer, with his practical inspiration with his aphorisms, or 'dispersed directions, which the author prefers to a methodical discourse, as they best point to action with his perpetual application of divinity to matters of common life, and to the special and respective duties, this, of all the sacred writers, is the one which he has most frequent occasion to refer to; and when, in his chapter on Policy, he brings out openly his proposal to invade the every-day practical life of men, in its apparently most unaxiomatical department, with his scientific rule of procedure a proposal which he might not have been 'so prosperously delivered of, if it had been made in any less considerate manner he stops to produce whole pages of solid text from this so unquestionably conservative authority, by way of clearing himself from any suspicion of innovation.