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Updated: May 25, 2025
"I did not think it wise to say any thing sooner, but now I venture to ask how the poor lady does?" "What lady?" returned Dorothy, dreadfully startled, and turning white. "Mrs. Faber," answered Polwarth, with the utmost calmness. "Is she not still at the Old House?" "Is it known, then?" faltered Dorothy. "To nobody but myself, so far as I am aware," replied the gatekeeper.
I could not help saying as much to him once. "My friend," replied the old man, "believe me that the happiest art of intellect, however lofty, is that which enables it to be cheerfully at home with the Real!" The only one of the family in which Faber was domesticated in whom I found an interest, to whose talk I could listen without fatigue, was the child Amy.
"What!" said I, inly, "have all those sound resolutions, which my reason founded on the wise talk of Julius Faber, melted away in the wrack of haggard, dissolving fancies! Is this my boasted intellect, my vaunted science! I I, Allen Fenwick, not only the credulous believer, but the blundering practitioner, of an evil magic!
The change effected, Janet went homeward swiftly, to encounter, on the corner of Faber Street, her sister Lise, whose attention was immediately attracted by the bundle. "What have you got there, angel face?" she demanded. "A new suit," said Janet. "You don't tell me where'd you get it? at the Paris?" "No, at Dowling's." "Say, I'll bet it was that plain blue thing marked down to twenty!"
The crowd, increasing as they proceeded, was in holiday mood; young men with a newly-washed aspect, in Faber Street suits, chaffed boisterously groups of girls, who retorted with shrill cries and shrieks of laughter; amorous couples strolled, arm in arm, oblivious, as though the place were as empty as Eden; lady-killers with exaggerated square shoulders, wearing bright neckties, their predatory instincts alert, hovered about in eager search of adventure.
But when Faber rested on phrenological observations assurances in honour of Lilian, I forgot Sir W. Hamilton, and believed in phrenology.
How as your hint to Faber clearly revealed were you aware that, in yon house, where the sorrow is veiled, where the groan is suppressed, where the foot-tread falls ghostlike, there struggles now between life and death my heart's twin, my world's sunshine?
Sir Leslie Stephen knew more about humour than did Father Faber; Father Faber knew more about "grace" than did Sir Leslie Stephen; and both disputants were widely acquainted with their fellow men. Sir Leslie Stephen had a pretty wit of his own, but it may have lacked the qualities which make for holiness. There was in it the element of denial.
Now, it will be evident to the intelligent reader that among his "three powers" considered by him as "enemies to the gospel," he has entirely lost sight of the seven headed ten horned beast, and his hostility to Christ! Faber himself, it is apparent, that the Roman empire is the primary element in the complex personage that wars against the Lamb.
It was such writing and such preaching as had certainly never been seen on the Roman side before, at least in England. Whether it was adapted to its professed purpose may perhaps be doubted; but the men who went certainly lost none of their vigour as controversialists or their culture as scholars. Not to speak of Mr. Newman, such men as Mr. Oakeley, Mr. Ward, Mr. Faber, and Mr.
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