Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
All household directions have devolved upon me, for my father, not thinking M. de la Feste would appear before us for another four-and-twenty hours, left home before post time to attend a distant consecration; and hence Caroline and I were in no small excitement when Charles's letter was opened, and we read that he had been unexpectedly favoured in the dispatch of his studio work, and would follow his letter in a few hours.
Another letter from Caroline. I have learnt from this epistle, that M. Charles de la Feste is 'only one of the many friends of the Marlets'; that though a Frenchman by birth, and now again temporarily at Versailles, he has lived in England many many years; that he is a talented landscape and marine painter, and has exhibited at the Salon, and I think in London.
We got this righted after a while, and were rowed at once to the hotel on the Riva degli Schiavoni where M. de la Feste had been staying when we last heard from him, the way being down the Grand Canal for some distance, under the Rialto, and then by narrow canals which eventually brought us under the Bridge of Sighs harmonious to our moods! and out again into open water.
Luther's Hymn, Eine feste Burg ist unser Gott, he calls "God Almighty's grenadier-march." On joining battle, he audibly utters, with bared head, some growl of rugged prayer, far from orthodox at times, but much in earnest: that lifting of his hat for prayer, is his last signal on such occasions. He is very cunning as required, withal; not disdaining the serpentine method when no other will do.
Also, 'Something to keep my hair smooth, which M. de la Feste told me he had found useful for the tips of his moustache. Very naively related this; and with how much unconsciousness of the intimacy between them that the remark reveals! But my mother what can she be doing? Does she know of this?
They were very merry and sang lustily the concierge thought they had been drinking; they sang thus, "comme ça!" and the concierge mournfully hummed a tune, a tune he had never heard before, but which he would remember all his life. I recognised it. It was Luther's hymn: Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott. Thus had passed the day.
"It would be a useful reform, if we could cancel the Old Testament as a Jewish book." "But we cannot cancel the Psalms of David, which are our only Church canticles. Luther himself has taken his hymns from the Psalter, and 'Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott' from the Proverbs of Solomon; he has borrowed the melody from the Graduale Romanum."
The sturdy brown flagon was brought, and the gleaming pewter mugs were filled it was long before the days of Temperance Societies even the preacher thinking it no harm to take his mug of the sweet, amber-coloured draught. Neville read from the great family Bible that night the majestic forty-sixth psalm, so grandly paraphrased in Luther's hymn, "Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott;"
We two girls are, in fact, quite defenceless in a case of this kind; lovers may come when they choose, and desert when they choose; poor father is too urbane to utter a word of remonstrance or inquiry. Moreover, as the approved of my dead mother, M. de la Feste has a sort of autocratic power with my father, who holds it unkind to her memory to have an opinion about him.
It shows that he, too, is not particularly a society person. May 10. Have had another interesting conversation with M. de la Feste on schools of landscape painting in the drawing-room after dinner this evening my father having fallen asleep, and left nobody but Caroline and myself for Charles to talk to.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking