The National Review, Volume 18

Front Cover
Richard Holt Hutton, Walter Bagehot
Robert Theobald, 1864

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Page 132 - Es bildet ein Talent sich in der Stille, Sich ein Charakter in dem Strom der Welt.
Page 529 - He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world, said the corporal: He will march, said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed, with one shoe off: An' please your honour, said the corporal, he will never march, but to his grave: He shall march, cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch, — he shall march to his regiment...
Page 530 - The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in ; and the recording angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.
Page 179 - If there is a man upon earth tormented by the cursed desire to get a whole book into a page, a whole page into a phrase, and this phrase into one word — that man is myself.
Page 175 - And I have endured, — the like whereof no soul upon the earth hath yet endured, — to carry to my lips the hand of him who slew my child ;' or when Joseph cries out, ' I am Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt.
Page 530 - Fever's and his afflicted son's; the hand of death pressed heavy upon his eye-lids,— and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle,— when my uncle Toby, who had rose up...
Page 249 - ... himself he perceived the most manifest ruin impending over the Queen through her intimacy with Lord Robert. The Lord Robert had made himself master of the business of the state and of the person of the Queen, to the extreme injury of the realm, with the intention of marrying her, and she herself was shutting herself up in the palace to the peril of her health and life.
Page 530 - The blood and spirits of Le Fever, which were waxing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart — rallied back, — the film forsook his eyes for a moment, — he looked up wishfully in my uncle Toby's face, — then cast a look upon his boy, — and that ligament, fine as it was, — was never broken. — Nature instantly ebbed again, — the film returned to its place, — the pulse fluttered — stopped — went on — throbbed — stopped again — moved...
Page 183 - With the fever of the senses, the delirium of the passions, the weakness of the spirit ; with the storms of the passing time and with the great scourges of human life, — hunger, thirst, dishonour, diseases, and death, — authors may as long as they like go on making novels which shall harrow our hearts ; but the soul says all the while,
Page 530 - ... would have done it, and asked him how he did — how he had rested in the night — what was his complaint —where was his pain — and what he could do to help him.

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