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The much-debated life question has lately found an interesting exponent in Professor Benjamin Moore, of the University of Liverpool. His volume on the subject in the "Home University Library" is very readable, and, in many respects, convincing.
Let me talk books with Joel Moore and the talk lags. Farming and neighboring are Joel's strong points, not books. "That other version is in the Bible, right along with the one you've been citing just before it in Genesis." He faced me squarely, a light of confidence in his eye, a ring of certainty, not to say triumph, in his tones: "You 're sure of that, Professor?" "Reasonably."
One of the men, a gunner, named William Moore, became actually impertinent upon the subject, and he and Captain Kidd had a violent quarrel, in the course of which the captain picked up a heavy iron-bound bucket and struck the dissatisfied gunner on the head with it. The blow was such a powerful one that the man's skull was broken, and he died the next day.
Saturday afternoon, General Prentiss, in consequence of information received from his advance guard, sent Colonel Moore, of the Twenty-first Missouri, with three companies from his regiment, to reconnoitre the front. The line of his march being oblique to the line of the camp, led him out beyond the front of Sherman's line.
We came to the comforting conclusion that the Creator probably knew how to run His universe quite as well as we do, and that, after all, there are no such things as 'wasted' lives, saving and except when an individual wilfully squanders and wastes his own life which Leslie Moore certainly hasn't done.
Moore was in high repute, and Dempster and Bailey were in vogue. The words we sang were real poetry, and so distinctly enunciated as to leave no doubt in the listener's mind as to the language in which they were written. We had not learned that tunes were musical tricks.
Our vice-consul, Josiah Moore, Esq., soon paid us a visit, and gave us a pressing invitation to take up our quarters on shore while we remained. To this gentleman and Mr. Sturges I am greatly indebted for much of the information that will be detailed in the following chapter.
Lionel Moore. And what had become of the Aivron and the Geinig now? their distant murmurs were easily drowned in the roar of enthusiasm with which the vast audience a mass of orange-hued faces they seemed across the footlights greeted the prima-donna and the popular young baritone. Nina was here also, in her subordinate part.
He was a frequent guest at the well-known breakfasts of the great banker-poet of 'The Pleasures of Memory' and of 'Italy, and listened or added his own contributions to the exuberant riches of the hour, when such visitors as Talfourd, Dickens, Moore, and Landor were the talkers."
As the summer days grew shorter, and the hour of Anna's ordeal grew near, Mrs. Moore had but one prayer in her heart, and that was that her life might be spared till her child's troubles were over. Since Anna's illness in the early spring, she had utterly disregarded herself. No complaint was heard to pass her lips.
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