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Originally, ideas and words were related as absolute expressions or correspondences, of each other. This is not so now. As the different races became interblended, the purity of both language and morals retrograded, and the people grew more to the external. The intuitions and spirit were compelled to retreat, giving place to only the intellectual and mental.
Soon after Shakspere's death there was the same quarrel about him that we are having now about Schiller. To-day that which was imputed to him as vice is so interblended with his virtues that it is regarded as trivial to waste a serious word upon it. So it may be one day with our poets; and then people will look at the faults in Schiller's compositions from other points of view.
Often have I found myself as I strolled gloating over the exquisite absence of sound enjoying in full mental relish the quaint and refined sensation. Yet when I have stopped and listened determinedly, viciously analysing my sensations, have I become aware of a hubbub of frail and interblended sounds.
My future and my past are so interblended, that I could as easily tear out my heart and continue to breathe, as attempt to separate them. I have a certain work to do, and its accomplishment bars all other paths." "Does the nature of that work involve vows of celibacy?" "Sometimes fate decrees for us, allowing no voluntary vows.
Men talked about a voyage to Calcutta, or Hong-Kong, or "up the Straits," meaning Gibraltar and the Mediterranean, as if it were not much more than going to the next village. It seemed as if our nearest neighbors lived over there across the water; we breathed the air of foreign countries, curiously interblended with our own.
Other portions of the plain were flushed with red and purple, and all the mountains and the clouds above them were painted in corresponding loveliness. Earth and sky, round and round the entire landscape, was one ravishing revelation of color, infinitely varied and interblended. I have seen many a glorious sunset beneath lifting storm clouds on the mountains, but nothing comparable with this.
He displayed a beautiful sad face, with curled yellow hair hanging about his shoulders, and he was dressed in a vermilion silk coat: at his left side, worn like a sword, was a vast pair of shears. He wore also a pointed hat of four interblended colors, and his leather gloves were figured with pearls.
You could not have specified how; it was interblended with her sum total. Silence was her apparent habit and her weapon; but the American drummer found that she could speak to the point when need came for this. During the meal he had praised her golden hair. It was golden indeed, and worth a high compliment; but his kind displeased her. She had let it pass, however, with no more than a cool stare.
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