Browsing named entities in George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard). You can also browse the collection for March 24th or search for March 24th in all documents.

Your search returned 2 results in 2 document sections:

George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 4: (search)
hole just as deep twilight came on, and lasted five-and-twenty minutes. It was no doubt very fine . . . . After it was over we went into St. Peters, . . . . and heard the latter part of a beautiful Miserere sung in the chapel of the choir, and walked up and down in the nave and aisles by the imperfect light of the few tapers that were scattered through the different parts of the vast pile, and seemed only to render the solemn darkness of the rest of it more visible and sensible . . . . . March 24.—We passed a Roman forenoon again to-day, going to the grand ruins on the south side of the Palatine hill, including those in the Villa Mills, and returning by the Circus Maximus, the Temples of Vesta and Fortuna Virilis, the Ponte Rotto, the house called Rienzi's, and the Cloaca Maxima. . . . April 6.—I went this morning to see Monsignor Mai, the famous discoverer of the Palimpsest manuscripts. It was not my first visit to him. . . . . He is now Secretary of the Propaganda, and likely
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 8: (search)
ch black eyes, and no less black eyebrows and whiskers, gives him quite a picturesque and original look. His manner is a little shy and embarrassed, and the tones of his voice are very mild and conciliating, so that the first impression he makes is pleasing. His conversation fully sustains this impression. He talks well and agreeably, but not brilliantly. What I chiefly asked him about, was the publication of his uncle's works, but the details he had to give me were not very curious. March 24.—I had a long visit this morning from Hallam, whom I never saw before, because he was not in London, either in 1819 or 1835, when I was here. It gratified me very much. He is such a man as I should have desired to find him; a little sensitive and nervous, perhaps, but dignified, quiet, and wishing to please. Before he came, he had taken pains to ascertain that there was a vacant place at the Athenaeum Club, where only twelve strangers are permitted at a time, and offered it to me; but t