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George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 4: (search)
The talk, of course, was of a high order. . . . . April 22.—I went by appointment this morning to Thorwaldsen's, and had a long talk with him about sundry matters connected with the arts, in continuation of a conversation begun yesterday at dinner. He was very interesting, for he talks well, and seems, at least, to have a good deal of earnestness and unction. Just now he is much troubled at being obliged to go to Copenhagen to superintend the putting up his great works there. . . . April 23.—I went to see Cardinal Giustiniani this morning, thinking that, as one of the Pope's ministers, he could give me some light upon the future plans of the government about quarantines. But it was plain that he knew little or nothing about it. . . . . April 24.—The Prussian Minister, with his usual indefatigable kindness, came this morning and settled the question about Naples for us. He had been to the Cardinal. Secretary of State's Office, and read the despatches received to-day from t<
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 9: (search)
s and distinguished. Since 1832, from fifteen hundred to eighteen hundred persons have come yearly to visit his home, and the pilgrimage will not cease while the stones he piled up remain one upon another, and the English continues a living tongue. But it is now, and must long remain, a sad and sorrowful place. . . Follies of the wise are inscribed on all its parts, in letters posterity will not forget, even if they learn nothing by the lesson that was so bitter to him that teaches it. April 23.—We left Scott's peculiar country, the Tweed side, this morning for Edinburgh. But the road we travelled was up the Gala-water, and was his road, the road by which he habitually went to Edinburgh. . . . . At Fushie Bridge we had a little talk with the veritable Meg Dods, of St. Ronan's Well, a personage well worthy of her reputation. Her real name is Mistress Wilson. . . . . We arrived at Edinburgh about noon . . . . I was desirous to see Napier, the editor of the Edinburgh Review, in