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Euripides, Hippolytus (ed. David Kovacs) 1 1 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises 1 1 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book 1 1 Browse Search
The Daily Dispatch: January 14, 1862., [Electronic resource] 1 1 Browse Search
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Euripides, Hippolytus (ed. David Kovacs), line 73 (search)
pluck. But, dear lady, take this coronal for your golden hair from a worshipful hand. For I alone of mortals have this privilege: I spend my days with you and speak with you, I hear your voice but never see your face. May I end my life just as I have begun it! Servant Lord—for it is as gods that one should address one's mastersOr ‘Lord—for it is the gods one should call masters’. For a defense of the translation above, see M. L. West, CR 15 （1965） 156 and 16 （1966） 17 and D. Kovacs, CP 75 （1980） 136-7.—would you take a piece of good advice from me? Hippolytus Most certainly. Else I should not seem wise. Servant The rule observed by mortals—do you know it? Hippolytus No. What is the law you question me about? Servant To hate what's haughty and not friend to all. Hippolytus And rightly. Who that's haughty gives no pain? Servant And is there charm in affability? Hippolytus Yes, much, and profit too with little toil. Servant Do you think the same is true among
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises, XXIV. a half-century of American literature (1857-1907） (search)
this is now added the vaster contemplation of it as a nation of seventy millions rapidly growing more and more. If there is no interest in the spectacle of such a nation, laboring with all its might to build up an advanced civilization, then there is nothing interesting on earth. The time will come when all men will wonder, not that Americans attached so much importance to their national development at this period, but that they appreciated it so little. Canon Zincke has computed that in 1980 the English-speaking population of the globe will number, at the present rate of progress, one thousand millions, and that of this number eight hundred millions will dwell in the United States. No plans can be too far-seeing, no toils and sacrifices too great, in establishing this vast future civilization. It is in this light, for instance, that we must view the immense endowments of Mr. Carnegie, which more than fulfill the generalization of the acute author of a late Scotch novel, The hou
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, IV (search)
oring with all its might to acquire the means and resources of civilized life, then there is nothing interesting on earth. A hundred years hence, the wonder will be, not that we Americans attached so much importance, at this stage, to these efforts of ours, but that even we appreciated their importance so little. If the calculations of Canon Zincke are correct, in his celebrated pamphlet, the civilization which we are organizing is the great civilization of the future. He computes that in 1980 the English-speaking population of the globe will be, at the present rate of progress, one billion; and that of this number, eight hundred million will dwell in the United States. Now, all the interest we take in our schools, colleges, libraries, galleries, is but preliminary work in founding this great future civilization. Toils and sacrifices for this end may be compared, as Longfellow compares the secret studies of an author, to the submerged piers of a bridge: they are out of sight, but
The Daily Dispatch: January 14, 1862., [Electronic resource], Contributions for the Alexandria Volunteers. (search)
uggestions which he hoped would be found worthy of the able and patriotic men to whom are confided the destinies of our beloved country. So interested had I become in this conversation that time passed away unnoticed, until my companion, declaring that he must visit a neighboring camp, thrust a manuscript into my hand and took a hasty leave of me, remarking that, should any profit accrue from the publication, I could settle with him at a future time, as he proposed to spend the winter of 1980 in New Orleans, at which time he would be happy to renew our acquaintance. What passed from the time of his departure until evening I know not; but certain it is, that I awoke from a deep sleep as the sun was about to disappear for the night, and, looking upon the events of the day as some remarkable dream, I was about to return to camp without further thought, when my attention was attracted by a folded manuscript lying by the side of my now empty bottle. On my return to camp I ope