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George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 10: (search)
seen in Europe. The Duke de Laval, when there was any doubt or question about anything that could not be settled, always used to say, Eh bien done, demandez à Monsieur de Balbe, car il sait tout; and when I heard him converse I often thought so. Caesar, his only son, a young man about two years older than myself, on whose education he has bestowed unwearied pains, was, among those of his own age, what his father was in the oldest class,—the first at Madrid. He has much learning, good taste, anugh he is nearly fifty years old, and has passed, with unmoved tranquillity, through the revolutions of the last thirty years, without taking part in any, he is in discussion as prompt, excitable, and enthusiastic as a young man of twenty; and as Caesar de Balbo is the model of all that is bold, vehement, and obstinate, we used to have fine battles. Indeed the Duke do Laval, with whom I seldom failed to pass three or four hours, every day, in society somewhere, is one of the very few men I hav
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 11: (search)
t edition of the History of Spanish Literature, this Duke de Rivas is spoken of as one who, like the old nobles of the proudest days of the monarchy, has distinguished himself alike in arms, in letters, and in the civil government and foreign diplomacy of his country. He has a fine person, a beautiful face, full of genius, has written several plays that have been well received in the Spanish theatres, painted a large piece that made much noise in the last exhibition at Madrid; is as brave as Caesar, since he has eleven severe wounds in his body received from the French; and, with all this, is very modest, simple, and elegant in his manners, and a pure Andalusian in the gayety of his temper, his horsemanship, and his love of bull-fights and dexterity as a Picador. I really passed my evenings very happily with them. The amusements were dancing, singing, etc., and the evening before I came away, they danced their national dances in the national costumes, to gratify my curiosity, so that
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 13: (search)
ghtened thoughts, and even the sad, rainy weather is less tiresome. I hope a packet will sail the 16th. If it does, I shall set off at once. To Mr. Elisha Ticknor. London, December 2, 1818. I wrote to you, dearest father and mother, on the 20th of last month, from Lisbon. The day after, I sailed in the packet and came to anchor in Falmouth Harbor on the evening of the 28th;. . . . and as I once more put my foot upon kindred ground, I could have fallen down and embraced it, like Julius Caesar, for, as I have often told you, once well out of Spain and Portugal, I feel as if I were more than half-way home, even though I have the no very pleasant prospect of returning for a little while to the Continent I am so heartily glad to have forsaken. Early the next morning I began my journey, and I cannot express to you how I have been struck by the contrast between Spain—which is now continually present to my imagination as a country dead in everything a nation ought to be—and England
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 15: (search)
sociate with very influential personages of the centre, and of both extremes. Here all our habits of gayety, our amusements, are transformed into gloomy sadness. We are wrapped in black crepe, and nothing is left to cheer us but a gallop, usually in the pretty meadow on the banks of the Mancaneres, with Lady Georgina, who is quite charming. It was there that we often rode together, busy with many matters; there, that you always exhibited your excellent nature and your vast erudition. Our Caesar seems to have abandoned this exercise. Since he has become charge d'affaires he has grown too grave for us. I had more sympathy with the gentleness of your character, and your singular modesty. The gentlemen of the Embassy send you many compliments, and I beg you to offer an ancient hereditary homage to the pretty Duchesse de Broglie, who now, I think, disdains my remembrance. Preserve for me the fidelity of your friendship, and of your device, Coelum non animum, and accept the assurance
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 25: (search)
c collections in the Arts, and formerly Professor in the University of Berlin. came this morning, and carried us to see the collection of antiques and the picture-gallery. . . . . The first we visited was the collection of antiques, which is placed partly in a fine rotunda in the centre of the building. . .. . It did not strike me as a very good collection in any respect .. . . . We saw it hastily, and shall go again, but two or three things struck me a good deal; among others a bust of Julius Caesar in green basalt, the finest bust in the gallery, and the most distinct and characteristic head of him I have ever seen; and the beautiful bronze boy, stretching his arms upward in worship, four feet four inches high, of which I have often seen casts, but never before saw the exquisite original. It was found in the Tiber, and given by Clement XI. to Prince Eugene, after which it went to Prince Lichtenstein, and out of his collection it was bought by Frederick II. for ten thousand rix d