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Updated: June 21, 2025
"As to climate," said Trollolop, "there is no climate, neither here nor elsewhere: the climate is in your mind, the chair is in your mind, and the table too, though I dare say you are stupid enough to think the two latter are in the room; the human mind, my dear Findlater "
"You know, Trollolop," said Callythorpe, in a singularly endearing intonation of voice, "you know that I never flatter; flattery is unbecoming a true friend, nay, more, it is unbecoming a native of our happy isles, and people do say of you that you know nothing whatsoever, no, not an iota, of all that nonsensical, worthless philosophy of which you are always talking. Lord St.
"Don't mind me, Trollolop," cried the baronet, "I can't bear your clever heads: give me a good heart; that's worth all the heads in the world; d n me if it is not! Eh, Linden?" "I be hanged if I'm all mind," said the baronet. "At least," quoth Linden, gravely, "no one ever accused you of it before." "We are all mind," pursued the reasoner; "we are all mind, un moulin a raisonnement.
Our ideas are derived from two sources, sensation or memory. "Nothing could be better demonstrated," said Clarence. "I don't believe it," quoth the baronet. "But you do believe it, and you must believe it," cried Trollolop; "for 'the Supreme Being has implanted within us the principle of credulity, and therefore you do believe it!" "But I don't," cried Sir Christopher.
"Right ones being only those which Mr. Callythorpe professes," said Clarence. "Exactly so!" rejoined Mr. Callythorpe. "The human mind," commenced Mr. Trollolop, stirring the fire; when Clarence, who began to be somewhat tired of this conversation, rose. "You will excuse me," said he, "but I am particularly engaged, and it is time to dress.
Harrison will get you tea or whatever else you are inclined for." "The human mind," renewed Trollolop, not heeding the interruption; and Clarence forthwith left the room. You blame Marcius for being proud. Coriolanus. Here is another fellow, a marvellous pretty hand at fashioning a compliment.-The Tanner of Tyburn.
"You are mistaken," replied the metaphysician, calmly; "because I must speak truth." "Why must you, pray?" said the baronet. "Because," answered Trollolop, taking snuff, "there is a principle of veracity implanted in our nature." "I wish I were a metaphysician," said Clarence, with a sigh.
Trollolop. Sir Christopher entered with a swagger and a laugh. "Well, old fellow, how do you do? Deuced cold this evening." "Though it is an evening in May," observed Clarence; "but then, this cursed climate." "Climate!" interrupted Mr. Callythorpe, "it is the best climate in the world: I am an Englishman, and I never abuse my country." "'England, with all thy faults, I love thee still!"
Harrison will get you tea or whatever else you are inclined for." "The human mind," renewed Trollolop, not heeding the interruption; and Clarence forthwith left the room. You blame Marcius for being proud. Coriolanus. Here is another fellow, a marvellous pretty hand at fashioning a compliment.-The Tanner of Tyburn.
Lord Aspeden being recalled, Clarence accompanied him to England; and the ex-minister, really liking much one who was so useful to him, had faithfully promised to procure him the office and honour of secretary whenever his lordship should be reappointed minister. Three intimate acquaintances had Clarence Linden. The one was the Honourable Henry Trollolop, the second Mr.
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