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Page 268

PART IV - THE EAST
CHAPTER III - THE MOSQUE

remained, in the best sense of the word, an amateur-a lover of intellect, generosity, liberty and tradition, all lovable things, but alas ! no more capable of dwelling in unity than are butterflies with fish. Blunt recognized the disunion without bitterness, as a gentleman would. His vision was a;sthetic though his career was practical. He cared most about earthly grace, whatever form it took, and conceived even of heaven as a garden :
' To be laid out to sleep in a garden, with running water near, and so to sleep for a hundred thousand years, then to be woke by a bird singing, and to call out to the person one loved best, " Are you there ? " and for her to answer, " Yes, are you ? " and so turn round and go to sleep again for another hundred thousand years.'
The hope that the Creation may be a garden, wherein the nations and the worlds blossom sweetly each after its kind is the deepest he knows. An exquisite hope ; but he who holds it cannot be classed with those who have seen the same Creation's flaming ramparts or have heard its inexpressive nuptial song. So much we must admit, whether our bias be for Blunt or against him.
Never was such a delightful book. One doesn't know where to begin. So much humour--not only the general ragging of Gog and Magog, but a charming good temper that flickers into all corners of life. Such knowledge of men, such opportunities of seeing them, and such power of describing them-Boulanger. Herbert Spencer, Louise Michel, Riaz Pasha, Queen Victoria, Oscar Wilde (' I never walk'), the Grand Mufti, the Conite de Paris, the Poet Laureate, the Sultan of Johore, Lord Cromer, Francis Thompson, Mr. Asquith on his wedding day, Miss 11argot Tennant on hers, pilgrims and ambassadors, cardinals and fellahin, Poles and Tunisians : all pass before us, and not as oddities but as recognizable human beings who continue to live after they have made the gesture that caught our eyz. It is a wonderful gift, this of writing about one's fellow creatures as if they were alive ; and so rare. The modern novelist, who while professing to create is generally cataloguing his personal likes and dislikes, may well envy this perennial stream where a comment occasionally splashes in but whose essence is the water of life. 'I'o make extracts is difficult. Perhaps the most brilliant

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE remained, in what is best sense of what is word, an amateur-a lover of intellect, generosity, liberty and tradition, all lovable things, but alas ! no more capable of dwelling in unity than are butterflies with fish. Blunt recognized what is disunion without bitterness, as a gentleman would. His vision was a;sthetic though his career was practical. He cared most about earthly grace, whatever form it took, and conceived even of heaven as a garden : ' To be laid out to sleep in a garden, with running water near, and so to sleep for a hundred thousand years, then to be woke by a bird singing, and to call out to what is person one loved best, " Are you there ? " and for her to answer, " Yes, are you ? " and so turn round and go to sleep again for another hundred thousand years.' what is hope that what is Creation may be a garden, wherein what is nations and what is worlds blossom sweetly each after its where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="page_001.asp" A BRIEF HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE (1914) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 268 where is strong PART IV - what is EAST CHAPTER III - what is MOSQUE where is p align="justify" remained, in what is best sense of what is word, an amateur-a lover of intellect, generosity, liberty and tradition, all lovable things, but alas ! no more capable of dwelling in unity than are butterflies with fish. Blunt recognized what is disunion without bitterness, as a gentleman would. His vision was a;sthetic though his career was practical. He cared most about earthly grace, whatever form it took, and conceived even of heaven as a garden : ' To be laid out to sleep in a garden, with running water near, and so to sleep for a hundred thousand years, then to be woke by a bird singing, and to call out to what is person one loved best, " Are you there ? " and for her to answer, " Yes, are you ? " and so turn round and go to sleep again for another hundred thousand years.' what is hope that what is Creation may be a garden, wherein what is nations and what is worlds blossom sweetly each after its kind is what is deepest he knows. An exquisite hope ; but he who holds it cannot be classed with those who have seen what is same Creation's flaming ramparts or have heard its inexpressive nuptial song. So much we must admit, whether our bias be for Blunt or against him. Never was such a delightful book. One doesn't know where to begin. So much humour--not only what is general ragging of Gog and Magog, but a charming good temper that flickers into all corners of life. Such knowledge of men, such opportunities of seeing them, and such power of describing them-Boulanger. Herbert Spencer, Louise Michel, Riaz Pasha, Queen Victoria, Oscar Wilde (' I never walk'), the Grand Mufti, what is Conite de Paris, what is Poet Laureate, what is Sultan of Johore, Lord Cromer, Francis Thompson, Mr. Asquith on his wedding day, Miss 11argot Tennant on hers, pilgrims and ambassadors, cardinals and fellahin, Poles and Tunisians : all pass before us, and not as oddities but as recognizable human beings who continue to live after they have made what is gesture that caught our eyz. It is a wonderful gift, this of writing about one's fellow creatures as if they were alive ; and so rare. what is modern novelist, who while professing to create is generally cataloguing his personal likes and dislikes, may well envy this perennial stream where a comment occasionally splashes in but whose essence is what is water of life. 'I'o make extracts is difficult. Perhaps what is most brilliant where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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