Essays, reprinted from the Edinburgh review

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Страница 25 - If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of ministering angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not made with hands ; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade away.
Страница 150 - The Son of man indeed goeth, as it is written of him : but woe to that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed ! good were it for that man if he had never been born.
Страница 25 - Their palaces were hou?es not made with hands ; their diadems, crowns of glory which should never fade away ! On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests they looked down with contempt ; for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious treasure and eloquent in a more sublime language ; nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand.
Страница 155 - We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its periodical fits of morality.
Страница 25 - Not content with acknowledging, in general terms, an overruling Providence, they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the Great Being for whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection nothing was too minute. To know Him, to serve Him, to enjoy Him, was with them the great end of existence.
Страница 198 - Beauclerk and the beaming smile of Garrick, Gibbon tapping his snuff-box and Sir Joshua with his trumpet in his ear. In the foreground is that strange figure which is as familiar to us as the figures of those among whom we have been brought up, the gigantic body, the huge massy face, seamed with the scars of disease, the brown coat, the black worsted stockings, the gray wig with the scorched foretop, the dirty hands, the nails bitten and pared to the quick.
Страница 196 - Out of one of the beds on which we were to repose started up, at our entrance, a man black as a Cyclops from the forge.
Страница 25 - He was half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the lyres of angels, or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam of the Beatific Vision, or woke screaming from dreams of everlasting fire. Like Vane, he thought himself intrusted with the sceptre of the millennial year. Like Fleetwood, he cried in the bitterness of his soul that God had hid his face from him.
Страница 3 - We think that, as civilisation advances, poetry almost necessarily declines. Therefore, though we fervently admire those great works of imagination which have appeared in dark ages, we do not admire them the more because they have appeared in dark ages.
Страница 152 - The Son of man goeth, as it is written of him ; but woe unto that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! it had been good for that man if he had not been born.

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