Memoirs of the life of Thomas Beddoes, with an analytical account of his writings

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John Murray ... [and 3 others], 1811 - 413 Seiten
 

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Seite 110 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Seite 274 - Johnson candidly describes himself as " a hardened and shameless tea-drinker, who has for many years diluted his meals with only the infusion of this fascinating plant ; whose kettle has scarcely time to cool ; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnights, and with tea welcomes the morning.
Seite xxxi - ... hence renew the suspicion which has long been deemed absurd, that Alexander the Great did absolutely meet with some weapons of that kind in India as a passage in Quintus Curtius seems to ascertain. Gunpowder has been known in China, as well as in Hindustan, far beyond all periods of investigation. The word firearms...
Seite 311 - The first inspiration produced a sort of numbness and loss of feeling in the chest and about the pectoral muscles. After the second...
Seite 405 - It was remarked, that no physician in Europe, who had reached forty years of age, ever, to the end of his life, adopted Harvey's doctrine of the circulation of the blood...
Seite 107 - A physician in a great city seems to be the mere plaything of fortune; his degree of reputation is, for the most part, totally casual — they that employ him know not his excellence; they that reject him know not his deficience. By any acute observer who had looked on the transactions of the medical world for half a century a very curious book might be written on the "Fortune of Physicians.
Seite xlviii - I knew an Irishman; to England he Came every spring a hay-making; and much Would praise his cabin. By a bog it stood, And he had store of peats. Without a chimney Stood the little cabin. Full of warmth and smoke, It cherished its owner. The smoke he loved, Loved for the warmth's sake, though it bleared his eyes. Now when the North-East pinches, I bethink me Of this poor Irishman; and think 'how sweet ' It were to house with him and pat his cur, 'And peel potatoes mid his cabin's smoke'.
Seite xxxi - Beeshfxikerma (Viswakerma) the artist, who is related to have forged all the weapons for the war which was maintained in the Suttee Jogue between Dewta and Ossoor...
Seite 300 - After waiting about half a quarter of an hour, Dr Beddoes appeared with several books under his arm. The first words that he addressed to me were, ' Which Dr Frank are you ? for there are a great many of you.
Seite 182 - In short, without generalizing in a manner, of which Brown and similar theorists had no conception, our notions of the living world will, in my opinion, continue to be as confused as the elements are said to have been in chaos. On some future occasion, I may presume to point out the region through which I imagine the path to wind, that will lead the observers of some distant generation to a point, whence they may enjoy a view of the subtle, busy and intricate movements of the organic creation as...

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