19/38 His outbursts of wrath never translated themselves into uncontrollable acts of violence; they showed themselves in all the rancorous hatred that could be put into words--the fire smouldered in that sad heart of his. Those big bones and huge muscles and the strong brain were never to be reproduced in an offspring to be proud of. How if he were the Narses of Literature--one who could be only what he was, though we are always inclined to lament that he was not something more ?"--_Daily Chronicle_, _April_ 30, 1900. London, 1738. |