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Updated: June 20, 2025
He was an exemplar of the highest, truest, sincerest humour, perfectly fulfilling George Meredith's definition: "If you laugh all round him, tumble him, roll him about, deal him a smack, and drop a tear on him, own his likeness to you and yours to your neighbour, spare him as little as you shun, pity him as much as you expose, it is the spirit of Humour that is moving you."
We take our pleasures differently; mine are spontaneous, and I know nothing about translating the rank smell of a nettle into the fragrance of a rose, and then enjoying it. Mr Meredith's conception of life is crooked, ill-balanced, and out of tune. What remains? a certain lustiness.
His hands were scratched and inclined to bleed, and one leg had apparently been in a morass. Added to these physical drawbacks there was no visible sign of success, which was probably the worst part of Jack Meredith's plight.
George Meredith's novel might pass by at any moment, and seeing me in the stork-like attitude would exclaim, with equal admiration and a more literal exactitude, "He has a leg." Notice how this famous literary phrase supports my contention touching this isolation of any admirable thing. Mrs.
"You are Tom Meredith's little cousin!" "The Great Harkless!" she answered, and stretched out her hand to him. "I remember you!" "Isn't it time?" "Ah, but I never forgot you," he cried. "I thought I had. I didn't know who it was I was remembering. I thought it was fancy, and it was memory. I never forgot your voice, singing and I remembered your face too; though I thought I didn't."
"It was born the night before Meredith's child. It survived against grave dangers it had no care, really, for twenty-four hours." "You you think it will live?" "Yes." "Do you think the grandmother will ever reclaim it?" "No, my dear. She is very old. I do not know how old, but certainly she cannot last much longer. She is a strange creature, but I am confident she realizes all that she said."
Her impression was much the same as Meredith's as of "something wearing through" to the light of day. Looking back she saw that this temperament, now so plain to view, had been always there; but in the young and capable agent of the Chudleigh property, in the Duchess's cousin, or Lady Henry's nephew, it had passed for the most part unsuspected.
I dare say it's a good deal changed since dear little Fanny Burney's day, for the house looks quite modern; but then neither buildings nor the people who live in them show their age early in England. Close under Box Hill we glided; and Sir Lionel pointed out a little path leading up on the left to George Meredith's cottage. Evidently Surrey air suits geniuses.
Now that the lunatic is no longer placed in the temple, but in the hospital, the popular imputation of insanity to the poet is not always favorably received. Occasionally he regards it as only another unjust charge brought against him by a hostile world. Thus a brother poet has said that George Meredith's lot was
It was in this somewhat flinty and carping mood that Meredith prepared himself for the advent of Jacob Delafield. But when Delafield appeared, Meredith's secret antagonisms were soon dissipated. There was certainly no challenging air of prosperity about the young man.
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