human
Mr. Smith is a very excellent man,
gpt
Yes, he may be, said Pepper in an indifferent way;
human
What a noble gift of Lord Hill to the town of Shenton, that park of one thousand acres!
gpt
True, it was; but what were his motives in its bestowment? Did he not expect to gain more than its value in certain ways that I need not mention?
human
How sad that the family of Hobson have come into such circumstances.
gpt
It is only a judgment upon them for the old man's sins.
human
Have you heard that young Dumas has entered the ministry?
gpt
Yes, and what for? Only for the loaves and fishes.
human
What a kind Providence it was that provided so suitably for widow Bonsor and her family.
gpt
Providence, indeed! Was it not rather the benevolence of Mr. Lord and his friend Squance?
human
What an admirable picture that is in Mr. Robinson's window in Bond Street. It is a splendid piece of workmanship. Don't you think so?
gpt
A bad sky--very bad! Cold as winter. That trunk of a tree on the right is as stiff and formal as a sign-post. It spoils the whole picture.
human
Then you don't like it?
gpt
There are a few good points in it; but it is full of faults.
human
The Rev. Mr. Benson, of Queen's-road Church, is, in my judgment, an eloquent and powerful preacher. Don't you think so, Mr. Pepper?
gpt
Well, as you ask me so pointedly, I am free to say that I think him a very good preacher _on the whole_. But, you know, he is far from perfect. I have again and again perceived his false logic, his weak metaphors, and his unsound expositions. Still, he is passable, and you may go a long way before you hear a better.
human
All seems infected that the infected spy, And all seems yellow to the jaundiced eye.
gpt
I do not like you, Doctor Fell, The reason why I cannot tell; But I do not like you, Doctor Fell.
human
Canting bigotry and carping criticism, says Magoon,
gpt
The Sandwich Islanders murdered Captain Cook, but adored his bones. It is after the same manner that the censorious treat deserving men. They first immolate them in the most savage mode of sacrifice, and then declare the relics of their victims to be sacred. Crabbed members of churches and other societies will quarrel a pastor or leading member away, and with snappish tone will complain of his absence, invidiously comparing him with his successor, and making the change they have caused the occasion of a still keener fight, simply to indulge the unslumbering malice of their unfeeling heart. The rancour with which they would silence one, the envy with which they hurry another into seclusion, and the inexorable bitterness under the corrosion of which a third is brought prematurely to the grave, proves how indiscriminate are their carping comments, and how identical towards all degrees of merit is their infernal hate.
human
The critics--some, but few, Were worthy men; and earned renown which had Immortal roots; but most were weak and vile; And as a cloudy swarm of summer flies, With angry hum and slender lance, beset The sides of some huge animal; so did They buzz about the illustrious man, and fain With his immortal honour, down the stream Of fame would have descended; but alas! The hand of time drove them away: they were Indeed a simple race of men, who had One only art, which taught them still to say, Whate'er was done might have been better done; And with this art, not ill to learn, they made A shift to live; but sometimes, too, beneath The dust they raised, was worth awhile obscured: And then did envy prophesy and laugh. O envy! hide thy bosom! hide it deep: A thousand snakes, with black, envenomed mouths, Nest there, and hiss, and feed through all thy heart!
gpt
The manner in which cynical censors of artistic and moral worth proceed is the same in every place and age. In Pope's time 'coxcombs' attempted to 'vanquish Berkely with a grin,' and they would fain do the same to-day. 'Is not this common,' exclaimed a renowned musician, 'the least little critic, in reviewing some work of art, will say, pity this and pity that--this should have been attired, that omitted? Yea, with his wiry fiddle-string will he creak out his accursed variations. But let him sit down and compose himself. He sees no improvements in variations _then_.'