The Works of William Makepeace Thackeray: The four Georges. The English humourists of the eighteenth century. Reviews; George Cruikshank, John Leech

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Page 108 - ghost—oh! let him pass—he hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer!' Hush! Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave! Sound, trumpets, a mournful march. Fall, dark curtain, upon his pageant, his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy.
Page 147 - finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my commission and take my leave of the employments of my public life.' To which the President replied: — " ' Sir, having defended the standard of liberty in the New World, having
Page 228 - first appearance in the world, and all the time that I sucked, seemed to favour my mother's dream; for, as she has often told me, I threw away my rattle before I was two months old, and would not make use of my coral till they had taken away the bells from it.
Page 384 - Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee: Still to my brother turns with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Page 166 - Don't you remember how I used to be in pain when Sir William Temple would look cold and out of humour for three or four days, and I used to suspect a hundred reasons? I have plucked up my spirits since then, faith: he spoiled a fine gentleman."—Journal to Stella.
Page 212 - Be kind to my remains, and oh! defend Against your Judgment your departed Friend! Let not the insulting Foe my Fame pursue; But shade those Lawrels which descend to You: And take for Tribute what these Lines express; You merit more, nor could my
Page 383 - His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest, Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distrest; To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head."—The Deserted
Page 393 - Chambers, you find, is gone far, and poor Goldsmith is gone much further. He died of a fever, exasperated, as I believe, by the fear of distress. He had raised money and squandered it, by every artifice of acquisition and folly of expense. But let not his failings be remembered; he was a very great man.
Page 228 - As for the rest of my infancy, there being nothing in it remarkable, I shall pass it over in silence. I find that during my nonage I had the reputation of a very sullen youth, but was always the favourite of my schoolmaster, who used to say that my
Page 181 - more, which arose from the dreadful prospect of never dying. They were not only opinionative, peevish, covetous, morose, vain, talkative, but incapable of friendship, and dead to all natural affection, which never descended below their grandchildren. Envy and impotent desires are their prevailing

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