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George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 7: (search)
Paris and the world without feeling respect for his enthusiasm of character, his unalterable honesty, and his open simplicity; but it is impossible to see him in the country, in his home and in his family, without loving him. He is now sixty, with the constitution, health, and appearance of forty-five. His wife is dead; and as his three children, a son and two daughters, were married, he gave them a part of his fortune, and begged them to live with him as much as they could. Lausanne, September 6.—I passed three short and happy days at La Grange. . . . . Everybody rose at the time he pleased, and breakfasted at the hour he chose, in his own room, or at half past 9 with the family. In the morning we drove or walked, and those who did not choose to remain in their chambers went to the salon, where company was always to be found. Dinner at half past 5; somewhat later the household went to their apartments, but all met in the salon at ten and passed two very happy hours together.
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 16: (search)
community, it is not possible that a man should be persecuted in this way for several weeks, without getting some trace of the invisible agents; and when to this it is added, that his stories are improbable, and almost impossible in themselves, and that he certainly has been seen deranged twice,—once of which was immediately after he thinks he was kidnapped,—I should find it very difficult to think of him either better or worse than of an interesting and unfortunate crazy man. . . . . September 6 . . . . . I wrote you the last time a good deal about Edheljertha, the Swede. That mystification still continues to an extraordinary degree; but as far as I can find out, this is the story now believed by those who have been most satisfied, not only of his honesty,—which hardly any doubt,—but of his sanity. He was brought up as the twin son of a deceased clergyman, whose widow died while he was quite young, and who had a brother in business at Vera Cruz. His education was, however, t
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 22: (search)
rth, though perhaps more excited. He says, however, that Ireland will not be tranquillized without bloodshed, admits that Sir Robert Peel is not a great man, and that England is now desperately in want of really great minds to manage its affairs. His conversation was very various, sometimes quite remarkable, but never rich or copious like Wordsworth's, and never humorous or witty. It was rather abundant in matters of fact, and often in that way quite striking and effective. . . . York, September 6.—We arrived here early, and established ourselves in the narrow, but neat and comfortable lodgings which we had previously secured for the Musical Festival week. The city, though old, seemed beautifully clean; and the streets, though close and dark, were filled with crowds of well-dressed people, many of whom, like ourselves, had been attracted by the great occasion. . . . In the latter part of the evening, the moon being at its full and very brilliant, we walked quite round the magnific