United States or Serbia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
During the continual round of amusements in which these festive weeks were spent, Beatrice had little time for writing, and the only letter we have from her hand during this visit to Vigevano is one addressed to her sister Isabella, in which she begs for information respecting Father Bernardino da Feltre, a famous revivalist preacher of the Franciscan order, who had travelled through the cities of Central Italy, preaching repentance and founding the charitable institutions known as Monte di Piet
Lord Feltre would have understood and appreciated it instantly. Where is aid to be had if we have the Fates against us?
For a week he hung to the smell of brine, in rapturous amity with Feltre, until they yellowed, differed, wrangled, hated. A powerful leaven was put into him by the tidings out of Wales. Gower, good fellow, had gone down to see the young mother three weeks after the birth of her child. She was already renewing her bloom.
The Court was very badly off for money, the King, and Clarke, Duke of Feltre, the War Minister, were the only happy possessors of carriages. They passed their time, as the Abbe Louis once bitterly remarked, in saying foolish things till they had a chance of doing them.
Duke Frederick was a prince remarkable among Italian despots for private virtues and sober use of his hereditary power. He spent his youth at Mantua, in that famous school of Vittorino da Feltre, where the sons and daughters of the first Italian nobility received a model education in humanities, good manners, and gentle physical accomplishments. More than any of his fellow-students Frederick profited by this rare scholar's discipline. On leaving school he adopted the profession of arms, as it was then practised, and joined the troop of the Condottiere Niccolò Piccinino. Young men of his own rank, especially the younger sons and bastards of ruling families, sought military service under captains of adventure. If they succeeded they were sure to make money. The coffers of the Church and the republics lay open to their not too scrupulous hands; the wealth of Milan and Naples was squandered on them in retaining-fees and salaries for active service. There was always the further possibility of placing a coronet upon their brows before they died, if haply they should wrest a town from their employers, or obtain the cession of a province from a needy Pope. The neighbours of the Montefeltri in Umbria, Romagna, and the Marches of Ancona were all of them Condottieri. Malatestas of Rimini and Pesaro, Vitelli of Citt
In 1815 Hulot followed the lead of the Prince de Wissembourg, his intimate friend, and became one of the officers who organized the improvised troops whose rout brought the Napoleonic cycle to a close at Waterloo. In 1816 the Baron was one of the men best hated by the Feltre administration, and was not reinstated in the Commissariat till 1823, when he was needed for the Spanish war.
He was recommended to see Lord Feltre, if he had a desire to be instructed on the subject of the mitigation of our pains in the regions below. Potts affirmed that he meant to die a Protestant Christian.
No, Feltre's' rigid monastic system is the sole haven. And what a world, where we have no safety except in renouncing it! The two sexes created to devour one another must abjure their sex before they gain 'The Peace, as Feltre says, impressively, if absurdly. He will end a monk if he has the courage of his logic. A queer spectacle an English nobleman a shaven monk! Fleetwood shuddered.
Next to Religion, she stood for a test of us. Had she any strong sense of Religion, in addition to the formal trooping to one of their pallid Protestant churches? Lord Feltre might prove useful to her. For merely the comprehension of the signification of Religion steadies us. It had done that for him, the earl owned.
'By that, rejoined Gower, 'I can say Lord Feltre proves there's wisdom in the truisms of devoutness. He thought the Catholic lord had gone a step or two to catch an eel. Fleetwood was looking on the backward of his days, beholding a melancholy sunset, with a grimace in it.
Word Of The Day