Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
Perhaps the age of great works like the age of great folios is over, so that none will ever have again those fine sensations that made Gibbon chronicle how he finished his monumental history between the hours of eleven and twelve at night in the summer-house at Lausanne, or that dictated the stately sentiment of Hallam's wind-up of his "Introduction to the Literature of Europe": "I hereby terminate a work which has furnished, the occupation of not very few years.... I cannot affect to doubt that I have contributed something to the general literature of my country, something to the honourable estimation of my own name and to the inheritance of those, if it is for me still to cherish that hope, to whom I have to bequeath it."
Still, as Hallam's a tactful fellow, it's possible he'll first come to you." "Do you mean he's suspicious?" "I don't know. He took off an extortionate discount for a very short loan." "How much did he lend you?" "The bill was for two thousand pounds." Osborn made a helpless gesture. "I can't pay. The money I borrowed is partly spent and the rest must go for wages and material.
It was like a thunderbolt in its effect, for there was not one of the gossips whose husband's prosperity was not in some more or less direct way in Will Hallam's hands. Instantly he turned and walked away to where Barbara shyly sat in a corner, while half a dozen young men stood and talked with her.
And Duncan did. As he outlined the compact that Barbara had insisted upon, the smiles replaced solemn apprehension on Mrs. Hallam's face, as though she foresaw all she desired as the outcome of such an arrangement. But all that she said was: "I am greatly relieved."
Napper Tandy was Guilford Duncan's enemy from the hour in which Duncan had forced that little branch railroad in the coal regions to haul Hallam's coal on equal terms with his own. But Tandy had said nothing whatever about that. He never published his enmities till the time came.
This provoking obliquity has certainly increased rather than declined since Hallam's day. Mr. Froude, it is true, whatever may be his shortcomings on the side of sound moral and political judgment, has admirable gifts in the way of straightforward narration, and Mr.
Tennyson said, "Ulysses was written soon after Arthur Hallam's death, and gave my feeling about the need of going forward, and braving the struggle of life, perhaps more simply than anything in In Memoriam." Assuredly the expression is more simple, and more noble, and the personal emotion more dignified for the classic veil. "Life piled on life Were all too little."
It was quite dark, and very cold, and Martha had just built up a fire, and was setting a little table on the hearth-rug for Miss Hallam's tea. Suddenly the bell of the great gates rang a peal which reverberated through the silent house. There was no time for comment. The peal had been an urgent one, and it was repeated as Martha, followed by Elizabeth, hastened to the gates.
For although we cannot agree with Hallam's general criticism, either for or against Sackville, and although we admire Spenser, we hope, as much as that writer could have admired him, we yet venture to say that not only may some of Sackville's personifications "fairly be compared with some of the most poetical passages in Spenser," but that there is in this kind in Sackville a strength and simplicity of representation which surpasses that of Spenser in passages in which the latter probably imitated the former.
But the man was diffident to a degree At length, somewhat unconsciously, "I think not," she answered. "No; there will be no danger awaiting me at Mrs. Hallam's. You need not fear for me any more Thank you." He lifted his brows at the unfamiliar name. "Mrs. Hallam ?" "I am going to her house in Craven Street." "Your father is to meet you there?" persistently. "He promised to."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking