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So writes Moultrie, and the testimony of his verse is borne out by John Stuart Mill's prose. "The impression he gave was that of boundless strength, together with talents which, combined with such apparent force of will and character, seemed capable of dominating the world." He certainly was the only man who ever succeeded in dominating Macaulay.

The best of his prose, which one may find in the descriptive passages of Præterita and Modern Painters, is written in a richly ornate style, with a wealth of figures and allusions, and at times a rhythmic, melodious quality which makes it almost equal to poetry.

Amongst these was a sincere admiration for Southey, whom Borrow, with his love of superlatives, looked upon not so much as a poet as England’s best prose writer, and probably the purest and most noble character to which she had ever given birth. We have no sure knowledge of whether, while in Norwich, Borrow made the acquaintance of Old Crome.

As the work, however, of a young man, the commentary was such as justly to raise high expectations of the writer. His style in English prose, where he had most improved it, that is, in his discourses delivered in India on Asiatic History and Literature, is opulent without being superfluous; dignified, yet not pompous or inflated.

We all know what were its achievements in poetry and prose; but there are some indications, it should be remarked, that, besides its efflorescence in ornamental literature, it was on the eve of throwing out new aptitudes for conquest in physical science.

I won't do it; and when a powerful horse is beneath me, carrying me like the wind, I feel that his strength is mine, and that I need not succumb to feminine imbecility or helplessness in any form." "Brava, Madge!" cried Henry Muir. "You were born a knight," added Graydon, "and have already made more and better conquests than many celebrated in prose and poetry."

Whatever his air, at any rate, Peter's occasional unmentioned prose and verse were quite truly the result of an impulse to maintain the purity of his taste by establishing still more firmly the right relation of fame to feebleness.

In addition to the pieces already mentioned, by the editor, is one of extraordinary excellence the Magic Bridle: his Lines to a Boy plucking Blackberries, are a very pleasing picture of innocence: In the prose department the most striking is the description of Abbotsford, quoted in our 339th number. There is an affecting Tale of the Times of the Martyrs, by the Rev.

According to Whitman, on the other hand, "the time has arrived to essentially break down the barriers of form between Prose and Poetry . . . for the most cogent purposes of those great inland states, and for Texas, and California, and Oregon;" a statement which is among the happiest achievements of American humour.

"Indeed he shall not," cried Prose, retreating some paces; "I say, Mr Interpreter, how am I to get on the top of that great beast?" "As you please, sar. Suppose you like get up before, he lift up his leg for you to climb up. Suppose you like to get up behind, he not say nothing. Suppose you wish go up his middle, you ab ladder."