Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, المجلد 1

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Brown and Taggard, 1860

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الصفحة 304 - Burns seemed much affected by the print, or rather by the ideas which it suggested to his mind. He actually shed tears. He asked whose the lines were; and it chanced that nobody but myself remembered that they occur in a half-forgotten poem of Langhorne's called by the unpromising title of
الصفحة 305 - I never saw a man in company with his superiors in station or information more perfectly free from either the reality or the affectation of embarrassment. I was told, but did not observe it, that his address to females was extremely deferential, and always with a turn either to the pathetic or humorous, which engaged their attention particularly. I have heard the late Duchess of Gordon remark this. — I do not know anything I can add to these recollections of forty years since.
الصفحة 272 - All that remains of Burns, the Writings he has left, seem to us, as we hinted above, no more than a poor mutilated fraction of what was in him ; brief, broken glimpses of a genius that could never show itself complete ; that wanted all things for completeness : culture, leisure, true effort, nay even length of life.
الصفحة 271 - Peasant show himself among us; "a soul like an ^Eolian harp, in whose strings the vulgar wind, as it passed through them, changed itself into articulate melody." And this was he for whom the world found no fitter business than quarrelling with smugglers and vintners, computing excise dues upon tallow, and gauging ale-barrels!
الصفحة 60 - Let some beneficent divinity snatch him, when a suckling, from the breast of his mother, and nurse him with the milk of a better time, that he may ripen to his full stature beneath a distant Grecian sky. And having grown to manhood, let him return, a foreign shape, into his century; not, however, to delight it by his presence, but dreadful, like the Son of Agamemnon, to purify it.
الصفحة 285 - Ilk happing bird, — wee, helpless thing ! — That in the merry months o' spring, Delighted me to hear thee sing, What comes o
الصفحة 7 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal ; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear : the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end...
الصفحة 249 - We read Goethe for years, before we come to see wherein the distinguishing peculiarity of his understanding, of his disposition, even of his way of writing, consists. It seems quite a simple style that of his ; remarkable chiefly for its calmness, its perspicuity, in short its commonness ; and yet it is the most uncommon of all styles : we feel as if every one might imitate it, and yet it is inimitable. As hard is it to discover in his writings, — though there also, as in every man's writings,...
الصفحة 302 - Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, Her heathy moors and winding vales ; The scenes where wretched fancy roves, Pursuing past, unhappy loves! Farewell, my friends ! Farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those— The bursting tears my heart declare, Farewell the bonnie banks of Ayr ! SONG.
الصفحة 241 - ... nature has in some degree restored itself to freedom and independence. The natural man repeats this operation millions of times in the course of his life ; from fear he struggles to freedom ; from freedom he is driven back to fear, and so makes no advancement. To fear is easy, but grievous ; to reverence is difficult, but satisfactory. Man does not willingly submit himself to reverence ; or rather he never so submits himself : it is a higher sense, which must be communicated to his nature ; which...

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