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The truth, as Dr. Illingworth has well expressed it, is that in practice "Pantheism is really indistinguishable from Materialism; it is merely Materialism grown sentimental, but no more tenable for its change of name."

Illingworth, a noted educator of the blind in England, says: "Of course, there is no doubt that blindness tends to a higher and more perfect development of the sense of hearing, even in the uneducated, on the same principle that Nature almost always comes to the aid of her children in providing protective agencies of one kind or another, even in the very lowest organisms, and, naturally, for those who are blind, the sense of hearing is the first to fall back upon for this purpose.

Such arguing and pleading and explaining before we could get them mollified! Then at last Summerlee, with his sneer and his pipe, would move forwards, and Challenger would come rolling and grumbling after. By some good fortune we discovered about this time that both our savants had the very poorest opinion of Dr. Illingworth of Edinburgh.

I guess it was Carter, 'cause she's always saying that Maude is clear Carter, just like her folds, and Marcus is all Simpson, like Uncle Gregory." "What was you mother's maiden name, her name when she was a girl?" the Doctor next questioned. "Phebe Illingworth. Grandma Illingworth was her mother. She lived with us. She died the year before mamma did."

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'You would require to see the thing itself? "DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Undoubtedly. "PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would accept that? "It was at this point that the sensation of the evening arose a sensation so dramatic that it can never have been paralleled in the history of scientific gatherings.

Illingworth, I must direct you to bring your remarks to a conclusion and to move your amendment. "DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, I have more to say, but I bow to your ruling.

Winslow Teed has my seat I was in front with the chauffeur. So I took the first vacant place I saw." "She rode up with us." "Then it is all right. I see David Collins has got Patricia Illingworth in tow he came with Polly. I wonder if they've had a quarrel." "I never knew them to quarrel," said Juanita Sterling. "Oh, don't they? Well, it looks like it now. He took Patricia out to supper, too."

The vest had come in a parcel of goods from the London Committee of the French Red Cross, and I only wished that the angel of goodness and tenderness, who is the Presidente of the Croix Rouge, Mme. de la Panouse, and that Mr. D. H. Illingworth, Mr. Philip Wilkins, and all her able lieutenants, could have seen the pleasure on the face of this swarthy defender of France.

Illingworth, who approaches the term of a quarter of a century's unobtrusive but useful Parliamentary service; Mr. Johnston, still of Ballykilbeg, but no longer a Liberal as he ranked twenty years ago; Sir John Kennaway, still towering over his leaders from a back bench above the gangway; Sir Wilfrid Lawson, increasingly wise, and not less gay than of yore; Mr.

She runs over any blessed minute she wants to." "And she brings her friends with her," added Miss Castlevaine, "David Collins and his greataunt's daughter, Leonora Jocelyn, Patricia Illingworth, and Chris Morrow, and that girl they call Lilith, besides the Stickney boys up in Foxford huh!" "She must be pretty bold, when it's against the rule," observed Miss Mullaly. "No," dissented Mrs.