Summary

Various Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine… (1854)

Poor Claude! Professors of the art of painting are far worse off than professors of literature, whose tormentors are but the printer’s devil and the compositor. The poor painter has an endless generation of tormentors. The “Quidlibet audendi” is not his motto; his genius will never be half so daring as the hands of his scrubbers. Let him sit at his easel, and, in his enthusiasm, throw sunshine from his brush, and dream fondly that it will be eternal; a host of cleaners are looking over his shoulder, or lurking in secret, to catch the treasure, and smudge his dream and his work out for ever.
Source: Gutenberg

Various Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine… (1854)

Ay, Menie Laurie, kneel down by your bedside—kneel down and pray; it is not often that your supplications testify themselves in outward attitude. Now there is a murmur of an audible voice speaking words to which no mortal ear has any right to listen; and your downcast face is buried in your hands, and your tears plead with your prayers. For you never thought but to be happy, Menie, and the gentle youthful nature longs and yearns for happiness, and with the strength of a rebel fights against the pain foreseen—poor heart!
Source: Gutenberg

Various Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine… (1854)

Let him picture to himself thirty or forty Abyssinians, stripped to their waists, squatting round the low tables, each with his sword or knife or ‘shotel’ in his hand, some eating, some helping themselves, some waiting their turn, but all bearing in their features the expression of that fierce gluttony which one attributes more to the lion or leopard than to the race of Adam. The imagination may be much assisted by the idea of the lumps of raw pink-and-blue flesh they are gloating over.
Source: Gutenberg

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