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Updated: May 22, 2025
It is this treatment of Van Braam, more than any thing else, which convinces us that the suspicion of his being in collusion with the French in regard to the misinterpretation of the articles of capitulation, was groundless. He was simply a blunderer.
I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and indigestions. It convinces me that Earth is still in her swaddling-clothes, and stretches forth baby fingers on every side. Fresh curls spring from the baldest brow. There is nothing inorganic. These foliaceous heaps lie along the bank like the slag of a furnace, showing that Nature is "in full blast" within.
With this elegant finish, the speaker glides rapidly round the end of the fallen tree, and makes for the nearest underwood evidently with the design of screening himself from sight. He is too late as the "Ugh" uttered on the opposite side of the glade convinces him and changing his intention, he fronts round, and quietly returns to his former position upon the log.
"I have just now, also, caught a glimpse of her; but the breeze is still very light, and will not send her faster through the water than the boats can pull, so we need not fear her, I hope. It convinces me, also, that the boats have no sails; but that they believe we have, and might, if the wind increases, get away from them. Courage, my friends, we must not despair."
Perhaps in the future, when your mental balance has re-asserted itself, you will have other good times in the afternoon of your days, and then follow twilight and the dark. That is all there is to hope for, and we may as well look the thing in the face. Only I confess, my dear fellow, that your experience convinces me that marriage should be avoided at whatever inconvenience.
"I can tell you, word for word, what she wrote, general," said a voice close by. "You, Bourrienne?" "Yes. She wrote: 'You did right not to come, my dear; all that is happening here convinces me that the invitation was only a snare. I will rejoin you shortly." "You unsealed the letter?" "General, Sextus Pompey gave a dinner on his galley to Antony and Lepidus.
But I silence that estimable woman by the observation that philosophers do not take the heart into account; the heart is the field of young lovers, physicians' fees and patent medicines. This observation which she does not understand, and, I may admit to you I am not so clear about myself, convinces her that I am not only a philosopher, but a profound one.
What convinces me that he virtually died with Mercutio is chiefly this that this comrade of Romeo's lives so keenly as to be fully capable of the death that he takes at Tybalt's sword-point; he lived indeed, he dies indeed. Another thing that marks the close of a career of ages is his loss of his long customary good luck.
Happening to be in Washington at the revelation of the Cr<e'>dit Mobilier operations, I found him in the House of Representatives, and evidently in the depths of suffering. An effort was making to connect him with the scandal, and while everything I know of him convinces me that he was not dishonest, he had certainly been imprudent.
But the young man says quietly: "His secretary says that the president has no appointment with you. I am afraid you have come to the wrong place. It must be some other Mr. Beacon." There is a note of finality in his voice which convinces the visitor that there is no use in going further.
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