Extracts from Literature
Posts in The Copybook tagged ‘Extracts from Literature’
Nobody has a monopoly on the truth, neither the scholars of the past nor the scholars of today.
In Ben Jonson’s day, many theatre critics demanded strict adherence to the principles laid down by classical theorists. Modernisers scoffed, and allowed the ancients no place at all. The Truth, said Jonson, cannot be jealously fenced off like this, either for the critics of the past or for the critics of today. It belongs to everyone, like the village green. The critic’s job is to keep it all looking attractive.
A road accident made parish priest George Herbert late for his musical evening, but he was not a bit sorry.
Welshman and poet George Herbert was a country clergyman in Bemerton near Salisbury. Quiet, sensitive, and not much enamoured of the cold new Protestantism, his ministered gently to his parish until his death in 1633 at the age of just 39. Izaak Walton told this story as an illustration of the kind of man he was.
In Erewhon, apologise by saying you have the socks and everyone will understand.
You would be forgiven for thinking that our politicians today seem more sympathetic towards criminals than they do towards the sick and unemployed. In Erewhon, Samuel Butler’s dystopian Utopia, this had been enshrined as policy — which involved the Erewhonians in some ingenious evasions in order to avoid prosecution for a cold.
The best holidays are the ones that make us long for home.
A. G. Gardiner was a columnist for the Star (later absorbed into the Daily Mail) during and after the Great War, under the pseudonym of ‘Alpha of the Plough’. The following extract opened a piece titled “On Coming Home”, in which he reflected on what it is that makes for a really good holiday.
Thomas Huxley believed that if schools did not ground their pupils in common sense, life’s examinations would be painful.
In an address to the South London Working Men’s College in 1868, new Principal Thomas Huxley attempted to define a liberal education. As befitted a friend of Charles Darwin, he spoke in terms of Nature’s university. She has enrolled us all in it, but she provides no lectures; so if we want to pass her stern examinations, we had better find out what to expect.
... I heard John Wesley sing. A visitor on the quayside on Sunday May 30th, 1742, would have stumbled into a crowd agape and a determined clergyman singing psalms.
In 1742, John Wesley extended his northern preaching tour to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a large, cramped city by the North Sea, founded on coal mining and the coal-trade of England’s east coast. Many areas were grindingly poor, and over time ignorance and want had so tightened their grip that violence and addiction kept areas such as Sandgate, down on the Quayside, utterly wretched. Naturally, it was to Sandgate that Wesley at once demanded to go.