The Glory of English Prose / Letters to My Grandson

ar An

ck to that wonderful Book and write you some more letters about it; but now I will go on and tell

language, which is probably on the whole the most gloriou

he stately severity of Latin with the sangu

e been spoken and written in it. But I shall show in my letters, at least some of the glorious utterances scattered

writings of Englishmen from the time of Elizabeth down to

hysterical or lost thei

writer the more manifest becam

his cowardly and shameful execution the next day at the hands of that miserable James I., writing to his beloved wife, with a piece of coal, because

sit down by sorrow in the end. Teach your son also to serve and fear God while he is young, that the fear of God may grow up

I stole this time when all sleep; and it is

at Sherburne, if the land continue, or in Exeter Church by my fa

fe and light, keep you and yours, and have mercy on me and teach me to forgive my persecutors and false accusers, and send us

ime thy husband, but now alas! overthr

ER RA

tory of the World a wonderful passage about death; it is justly celebrated, and is famil

s, of those great ones which preceded them. They are always transported with the glory of the

sel of Death upon the first approach. It is he that puts into man all the wisdom of the world, with

erefore, Death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself. He tells the proud and insolent that they are but abje

nothing but in the gravel that fills his mouth. He holds a glass before the eyes of the most

om all the world have flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised; thou hast drawn together all the far-str

come. The peal of bells in the old church tower at Otterton was given by him to the parish; and when "the lin lan lone of evening-bells" floats acros

lovin

.