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The first reaction of both was a quite simple consternation and rage, in which Flaubert cries, "The hopeless barbarism of humanity fills me with a black melancholy," and George Sand, for the moment assenting, rejoins: "Men are ferocious and conceited brutes."
It would be hard for any man to see it and not come away with a more tender heart and a better appreciation of the world's Redeemer. The late William T. Stead truly called this play "The Story That Has Transformed the World." No other story so fills and thrills the soul. I saw non-Christian men sit trembling with emotion and great tears rolling down their faces.
The night was horribly cold, and a slow dawn was never more welcomed. But day brought a new horror. The sun poured down on us, and the smell from the horses packed closely below was almost unbearable; while, worst of all, we had to go below to wash and to draw our rations. Then I was first introduced to bully. The first tin tastes delicious and fills you rapidly.
Beneath this there is nothing that is not mortal and perishable, except the souls bestowed upon the human race by the gift of the gods. Above the moon all things are eternal. When I had recovered from my amazement at these things I asked, "What is this sound so strong and so sweet that fills my ears?"
Astrid Bagge.... As I write her name, I feel as though she were standing weeping behind my back; I feel her tears dropping on my neck. I cannot weep but how I long for tears! Autumn! Torp has made a huge fire of logs in the open grate. The burning wood gives out an intoxicating perfume and fills the house with cosey warmth. For want of something better to do I am looking after the fire myself.
While Cousin Feenix, who ought to be at Long's, and in bed, finds himself, instead, at a gaming-table, where his wilful legs have taken him, perhaps, in his own despite. Night, like a giant, fills the church, from pavement to roof, and holds dominion through the silent hours.
"That is what fills the pool," said I, "and it must find its way hence underground like the stream at Cheddar. The pool may be fathomless. I would that I could look into its depths." "What may not be in yonder gorge?" said Howel. "We must go and see."
They are very melancholy memorials. Like the broken columns over the graves of the departed, fallen short of their natural uses, they seem only the funeral monuments of a race that is dead. The empty air is stilled over them in expectation, and the imagination makes vain pictures, and fills out their crescent of splendid purposes. They have been called "broken promises to God."
There is the one cloud on a scene that fills me with increasing wonder and reverence. One cold Sunday afternoon, in January, Flaxman, descending the steps of the New Brotherhood, was overtaken by a Dr. Edmondson, an able young physician, just set up for himself as a consultant, who had only lately attached himself to Elsmere, and was now helping him with eagerness to organize a dispensary.
Language paved the way for thought; while the tribal gods were still believed in and adored, this figure rose above them a being who has no special worship of his own, who does not ask for it nor need it, but who yet fills, as none of the lesser beings does, the character of deity.
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