Cambridge Essays, 1855-581855 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 72
Page 2
... common friend to procure from M. Samson , of histrionic celebrity , some precise information on this subject . The result we give in his own words : - Aucun manu- scrit , pas une seule ligne de la main de Molière n'existe dans les ...
... common friend to procure from M. Samson , of histrionic celebrity , some precise information on this subject . The result we give in his own words : - Aucun manu- scrit , pas une seule ligne de la main de Molière n'existe dans les ...
Page 12
... common object they endeavour to compass . Et chaque acte dans la pièce est une pièce entière . Still , amid all the defects which impartial criticism may discover in this play , we must in justice remember that the flow of language ...
... common object they endeavour to compass . Et chaque acte dans la pièce est une pièce entière . Still , amid all the defects which impartial criticism may discover in this play , we must in justice remember that the flow of language ...
Page 34
... common usages of life , may possibly be every whit as good Christians , and as upright men , as their more quixotic censor . In a country like France , where drawing - room palaver is at a higher premium than in England , it is probable ...
... common usages of life , may possibly be every whit as good Christians , and as upright men , as their more quixotic censor . In a country like France , where drawing - room palaver is at a higher premium than in England , it is probable ...
Page 35
... common sense and common charity . What Goethe could have been dreaming of , when he said that Shakspeare's Timon bordered on the comic , and Molière's Misanthrope on the tragic , it is hopeless to con- jecture . He must have been ...
... common sense and common charity . What Goethe could have been dreaming of , when he said that Shakspeare's Timon bordered on the comic , and Molière's Misanthrope on the tragic , it is hopeless to con- jecture . He must have been ...
Page 40
... common actor , or even an uncommon actor , was altogether infra dig . , and not to be thought of . Besides , Molière was dead - a fortunate thing for Bossuet , as he might have been worsted in the encounter . Under these circumstances ...
... common actor , or even an uncommon actor , was altogether infra dig . , and not to be thought of . Besides , Molière was dead - a fortunate thing for Bossuet , as he might have been worsted in the encounter . Under these circumstances ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
action Admiral Alceste allotropic American ammonia aragonite batteries beauty become bodies bromine called cause character chemical circumstances colour Comédie Française comedy common compound death doubt dramatic effect elements emotion enemy England English excite expression fact feelings fleet force French genius geographical give heart hero Hôtel de Rambouillet human hydrogen instance interest iodine kind language Le Misanthrope Le Tartuffe less literature live Locksley Hall marriage matter means mind Molière Molière's moral nature never novel novelists object observed ordinary oxygen passed passion peculiar perhaps person phosphorus picture play poem poet poetry Précieuses present principle racter reader remarkable represented sail scene Shakspeare ships society steam story suppose Sveaborg Tartuffe temperature Tennyson things thought tion Tirso de Molina traveller true truth Waverley Novels whole words writer
Popular passages
Page 33 - I was confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem...
Page 236 - Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Page 270 - Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shriek'd against his creed — Who loved, who suffer'd countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the desert dust, Or seal'd within the iron hills ? No more ? A monster then, a dream, A discord. Dragons of the prime, That tare each other in their slime, Were mellow music match'd with him. O life as futile, then, as frail ! 0 for thy voice to soothe and bless ! What hope of answer, or redress ? Behind the veil, behind the veil.
Page 270 - but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, ' A thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. ' Thou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life, I bring to death ; The spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more.
Page 251 - Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.
Page 251 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Page 252 - I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward. Or to burst all links of habit — there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day.
Page 71 - And one, the reapers at their sultry toil. In front they bound the sheaves. Behind Were realms of upland, prodigal in oil, And hoary to the wind. And one, a foreground black with stones and slags, Beyond a line of heights, and higher All barr'd with long white cloud the scornful crags, And highest, snow and fire. And one, an English home— gray twilight pour'd On dewy pastures, dewy trees, Softer than sleep — all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
Page 171 - What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, Is virtue's prize: A better would you fix?
Page 244 - Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it In sound of funeral or of marriage bells ; And, sitting muffled in dark leaves, you hear The windy clanging of the minster clock ; Although between it and the garden lies A league of grass...