he found that his watch exactly agreed with the ship's chronometers. his triumph was hilarious. he would have liked to know what fix would say if he were aboard!
"the rogue told me a lot of stories," repeated passepartout, "about the meridians, the sun, and the moon! moon, indeed! moonshine more likely! if one listened to that sort of people, a pretty sort of time one would keep! i was sure that the sun would some day regulate itself by my watch!"
then, upon one knee uprising,
hiawatha aimed an arrow;
scarce a twig moved with his motion,
scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled,
but the wary roebuck started,
stamped with all his hoofs together,
listened with one foot uplifted,
leaped as if to meet the arrow;
ah! the singing, fatal arrow,
like a wasp it buzzed and stung him!
and down to these shadows, on each side, that fall
in time's silent circle, so various for each,
is it nothing to know that they never can reach
so far, but what light lies beyond them forever?
trust to me!
but of works of art little can be said; their influence is profound and silent, like the influence of nature; they mould by contact; we drink them up like water, and are bettered, yet know not how. it is in books more specifically didactic that we can follow out the effect, and distinguish and weigh and compare. s book which has been very influential upon me fell early into my hands, and so may stand first, though i think its influence was only sensible later on, and perhaps still keeps growing, for it is a book not easily outlived: the essais of montaigne.
in your private life...
words that embody your presence are "mercury, satellite, splendor."