The Review of Reviews, 22. köide

Front Cover
William Thomas Stead
Office of the Review of Reviews, 1900
 

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Page 174 - Art is a human activity, consisting in this, that one man consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others feelings he has lived through, and that other people are infected by these feelings, and also experience them.
Page 350 - THE land we from our fathers had in trust, And to our children will transmit, or die, — This is our maxim, this our piety, And God and Nature say that it is just.
Page 278 - So that, when I tell you that war is the foundation of all the arts, I mean also that it is the foundation of all the high virtues and faculties of men.
Page 276 - At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning. "At thirty, I stood firm. "At forty, I had no doubts. "At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven. "At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth. "At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right.
Page 348 - Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains; each a mighty Voice: In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty!
Page 24 - And let the king appoint officers in all the provinces of his kingdom, that they may gather together all the fair young virgins unto Shushan the palace...
Page 234 - Its true signs are thought for the poor and suffering, chivalrous regard and respect for woman, the frank recognition of human brotherhood, irrespective of race or colour or nation or religion, the narrowing of the domain of mere force as a governing factor in the world, the love of ordered freedom, abhorrence of what is mean and cruel and vile, ceaseless devotion to the claims of justice.
Page 18 - No appeal shall be permitted to the Queen in Council from a decision of the High Court upon any question, howsoever arising, as to the limits inter se...
Page 399 - Some Chatterton shall have the luck Of calling Rowley into life! Some one shall somehow run a muck With this old world, for want of strife Sound asleep. Contrive, contrive To rouse us, Waring! Who's alive? Our men scarce seem in earnest now. Distinguished names ! - but 'tis, somehow, As if they played at being names Still more distinguished, like the games Of children.
Page 353 - Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne, — Yet that scaffold sways the Future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.

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