|
And he went further; he saidthat if another man liked your wife this will
create nodifficulty. Certainly no one could read Hazlitt and maintain a simple
anduncompounded idea of him. He seldom reaches the perfection ofthese great
writers or their unity.
William would make his head ache in the effortto find
the right word. I lay looking up tillthe light of the fire faded away. One day,
meetingImlay in the New Road, she greeted him without bitterness. He has an
extraordinary power ofmaking us contemporary with himself.
He spent monthsin
Paris copying pictures at the Louvre.
Indeed, she scarcely seemed to shut her
eyes.
Even to look at there was, it wouldseem, something incongruous, queer,
provocative about her. Naturally, the book dropped still-born fromthe press.
His pages are full of fine sayings andunexpected turns and independence and
originality.
All sorts ofpowers and emotions were liberated in Mary by her new
satisfaction.
She wasvery small and yet boyish; very ugly yet attractive.
William would make his head ache in the effortto find the right word. Even to
look at there was, it wouldseem, something incongruous, queer, provocative
about her.
We are about to plant our feet uponthe solid rock of Q. The exact
prosaicdetail must be rendered as well as the vast and visionary outline. The
cottage, though its garden ran up into the fells, was on thehighroad. She would
have said quite simply, We looked about us, and feltthat we were happy. William
would make his head ache in the effortto find the right word.
He does not use
the essayistslicence to circle and meander.
Weare constantly plucked at by
sayings that we would like to put byto examine later. But, asGodwin wrote, Ours
is not an idle happiness, a paradise of selfishand transitory pleasures. The
moonlight lay upon the hills likesnow. It is that spirit whichgoads her and
urges her and keeps her faculties for ever on thestretch.
A large piece
ofground planted with trees, and intersected by gravel walks. But every
sentence in Hazlitt carries us forward. AndHazlitt felt with the intensity of a
poet.
|
