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It did her heart good to see me read the holy book. As a result, I was never so diligent as I was at the hour when I expected her arrival with the dinner-pot. Very often I discovered her tiptoeing in or standing at a distance and watching me admiringly. Then I would take to singing and swaying to and fro with great gusto. She often encountered Reb Sender's wife at the synagogue.
Not long after his return, the "Tales of the Alhambra" were published. In the somewhat florid concert of critical praises which greeted the book, a simple theme is dominant. Everybody felt that in these stories Irving had come back to his own.
The ancient man had bidden her go about and play as if it were her home, and then had called her to him and laid open a book, leading her mind to regard its mysteries. Greek! It seemed to her as if she had begun it there and then. Later the mother became the teacher.
Such was the success of this wonderful work that, as Philip III. was one afternoon standing in a balcony of his palace at Madrid, he observed a student on the banks of the river Manzanares, with a book in his hand, which delighted him so that, every now and then, he broke into an ecstasy of laughter.
That Journal of Mr Sterling's, published in the Westminster Review, Mr. Hazlitt has reprinted in the Prolegomena to his edition of the Essays. I heard with pleasure that one of the newly-discovered autographs of William Shakespeare was in a copy of Florio's translation of Montaigne. It is the only book which we certainly know to have been in the poet's library.
The book is not a wonder of wonders, but it will do very well." "Do you think so, Warrington?" said Pen, delighted; for this was great praise from his cynical friend. "You silly young fool! I think it's uncommonly clever," Warrington said in a kind voice. "So do you, sir." And with the manuscript which he held in his hand he playfully struck Pen on the cheek.
This was always his habit, as I found afterwards when he quoted anything from a book he liked to get it and read the passage over, as if he tasted a kind of hoarded sweetness in the words. It visibly vexed him if they showed him in the least mistaken; but "The love he bore to learning was at fault" for this foible, and that other of setting people right if he thought them wrong.
Cecily had lost her faith in the great militant book on Puritanism. Thinking about it, when it had been quite out of her mind for a few days, she saw the project in a light of such absurdity that, in spite of herself, she laughed. It was laughter that pained her, like a sob. No, that was not the kind of work for him. What was? She would think rather of her child and its future.
He professes to review my book on the Soul; yet, apparently became he himself disbelieves the doctrine of the Holy Spirit taught alike in the Psalms and Prophets and in the New Testament, he cannot help forgetting that I profess to believe it. He is not singular in his dulness. The Septuagint has the foundry, De Wette has the treasury, with whom Hitzig and Ewald agree.
It makes little difference where the beginning is made. Any good book, any real book, is an open door into the wide field of literature; that is to say, of history that is to say, of interest in the entire human race.
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