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Updated: June 29, 2025
"At a period not very distant, society in Guernsey grouped itself into two divisions one, including those families who prided themselves on ancient descent and landed estates, and who regarded themselves as the pur sang; and the other, those whose fortunes had chiefly been made during the late war or in trade. The former were called Sixties, the latter were the Forties."
In the "forties" of last century, English and American explorers were occupied in searching for a north-west passage, or a navigable channel for vessels making by the shortest route from the North Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. Let us look at the story of a famous expedition which set out to find this passage. Sir John Franklin was an officer in the Royal Navy.
Her letters to Emma were peeps of splendour for the invalid: her way of life on board the yacht, and sketches of her host and hostess as lovers in wedlock on the other side of our perilous forties; sketches of the bays, the towns, the people-priests, dames, cavaliers, urchins, infants, shifting groups of supple southerners-flashed across the page like a web of silk, and were dashed off, redolent of herself, as lightly as the silvery spray of the blue waves she furrowed; telling, without allusions to the land behind her, that she had dipped in the wells of blissful oblivion.
"It's very simple," declared Paul. "In this century the thirties, forties, and fifties don't exist. You're either twenty or sixty." "I hope I shall always be twenty," said the Princess lightly. "Do you find your youth so precious, then?" asked Count Lavretsky. "More than I ever did!" She laughed and again met Paul's eyes. This time she flushed faintly as she held them for a fraction of a second.
But that does not matter; what I am going to tell you happened in the forties. I was at that time a student in a provincial university. I don't know whether it was a good thing or no, but we had no political clubs, no theories in our universities then. We were simply young and spent our time as young men do, studying and amusing ourselves.
"How old is the singer?" he inquired anxiously. "I couldn't say for certain, sir. But somewhere in the forties, I should think, and nearing fifty. He loses his voice, sir, but still answers to young women at the telephone." "Dear! Dear!" "But as my wife says, sir, with a man it's not such a great matter. But with a woman well!" He pursed his narrow lips and half-shut his small grey eyes.
It has been a long road from that sentence, written probably in the forties, to the Symphony Orchestra in this Hall, and to the new singing classes on the East Side of New York City.
These were made of wicker, and varied in shape on different occasions. We were now well to the south of Africa, in the roaring forties, and we saw many schools of whales, and albatrosses accompanied us for many days. A Spanish officer shot one one day we told him this would bring us bad luck, as the souls of lost sea captains are said to inhabit these majestic birds.
Has he, ticking, ticking, all these years, come at last to see into the littleness of that Time that looms so great to our awed human eyes? Is he saying, as he grimly laughs, and strikes his thirty-fives and forties: "Bah! I know you, Time, godlike and dread though you seem. What are you but a phantom a dream like the rest of us here? Ay, less, for you will pass away and be no more.
Ratcliff was not a seer, and had no mystical lore. He was a runaway sailor, who had, in the forties, travelled daily over the Egerton run, unconscious of the tons of gold beneath his feet. There was a fair wind and a smooth sea when the 'Clonmel' went ashore at three o'clock in the morning of the second day of January, 1841.
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