Extracts from Literature
Posts in The Copybook tagged ‘Extracts from Literature’
Letitia Barbauld called Samuel Richardson’s 1740 novel Pamela ‘a new experiment’ in English literature, and to judge by its reception it was very successful.
In November 1740, printer Samuel Richardson (1689-1761) brought out a novel of his own, a series of letters entitled Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded. He promised boldly ‘to cultivate the Principles of Virtue and Religion in the Minds of the Youth of both Sexes’, but trod a fine line and brought many a blush to the cheek of modesty before virtue was triumphant. It made him a celebrity overnight.
We turn to books seeking an author’s sympathy and fellowship, but William Cowper’s verse is unusual: he turns to us for ours.
In 1853, Frederick Maurice was deprived of the Chair of Theology at King’s College, London for his unorthodox opinions. Undeterred, he and fellow enthusiasts including Charles Kingsley applied themselves strenuously to the moral education of working men. Three years on Maurice was in Ellesmere, Shropshire, giving a lecture on ‘The Friendship of Books’ in which he drew attention to the life of poet William Cowper.
After the devastation of the Great War, calls rose for a new economic and social system, and to put the wisdom of our forebears behind us.
After the Great War of 1914-1918, a consensus grew that the world had changed and there must now be a new global economy, a new kind of society, even a new morality. Socio-economic experts — the gods of the market place — declared their laws, and the public worshipped at their shrines; but Rudyard Kipling believed that older gods, the wise maxims of our forebears, would have the last word.
Sir Kay has left his sword at home, and his young brother Arthur is determined to find him a worthy blade for the New Year’s Day joust.
Sir Kay has no sword for the New Year’s Day joust, but his younger brother Arthur knows that on Christmas Day, within the Great Church of London, a marvellous sword was found struck deep through an anvil into the stone beneath. He decides Kay must have it, unaware of the prophecy written in gold about the sword: Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England.
To Napoleon, the way that politicians in Paris had forced metric measurements on the public was a lesson in bad government.
Napoleon Bonaparte’s frustration at the way that metres and kilos were forced on the people of France following the Revolution of 1789 has often been quoted with grim amusement by those who lament the passing of yards and ounces. And yet the lesson he was teaching us has rarely been taken to heart, either by his critics or his admirers, though it applies in so many areas of our common life.
Standing on the dockside with Laertes, who is eager to board ship for Paris, Polonius takes a moment to share some fatherly wisdom.
Early in William Shakespeare’s tragedy Hamlet, probably written around 1599-1601, Laertes is due to leave Denmark for France; he had returned home only briefly for the coronation of King Claudius, Hamlet’s uncle and step-father. As Laertes goes aboard, his father Polonius gives him his affectionate blessing, and with it a generous helping of common sense.