People From London

"Lady Dorothy Nevill is the most interesting of all known and recognized nonagenarians. The very title of her new book indicates the long backward reach of her memory. She was a little girl when died. She has lived to see the accession of She loves the old days, but she is no bigoted admirer of the old ways. She recognizes that, on the whole, the march of progress has uplifted classes and masses alike, though at some temporary loss, among the first, in charm and distinction of manner, and, among the second, in color and atmosphere."

"... in quiet old-world ... dwelt that master craftsman of s, , whose emblem of minute golden garb or wheatsheaf is searched for amidst the design of any modern church window that we admire. For many years he here applied his craft, leaving as a heritage that well-planned semblance of an Elizabethan house, complete in all its details, comprising a wondrous , a raised Garden Mount, a Wilderness, A Garden House of Entertainment, all those striking features in short which are alluded to in Bacon's Essay "Of Gardens.""

"Amongst other pictures which I remember in was the famous now in the , as well as a fine portrait of and another of e—both presents from the Cardinal and the poet to ."

"There are charming avenues of s in the gardens of St. Mary's House ... A bedchamber above is named the " Room," because of its paneled walls constructed from wood taken from these enemy ships. In the centre of each panel is a clever inlaid representation of one of these Spanish warships; picturesque objects, all of them, with their fine sails blown by the wind as they combat the waves."

"As I watch the young women gathering apples on this still autumn day, coming up the hill bearing on their arms wooden "trugs," all lined with soft to prevent their load of fruit being bruised, I am more than ever convinced that is most essentially suitable work for them. There is so much connected with it that requires the dainty touch of a woman, much that her inborn gentleness can help. Two long, low dark and cool apple-rooms have been excavated out of the chalk, and here on wooden shelves the apples are carefully laid, forming thus the richest treasure-houses of the garden."

"… the small village of ... was once the meeting-place of many s, for in the midst of somewhat modern surroundings we see these narrow gipsy-frequented grass-grown lanes at intervals before coming to an especially practical signboard that directs us to Homestall, the late 's old house."

"Like the , we should make a study of thrift, learning to prepare for all emergencies; and thus even the wild fruits of the rows, the , could be turned to useful account. Especially is this the case in a year when apples are so plentiful that there are barely accepted gratefully as a gift and cannot all find room on the shelves in the fruit house. There is nothing more delicious than blackberry-and-apple jam, and the advantage of this mixture is that the blackberries help to keep the jam, as apples if boiled alone and bottled would not last without the berries."

"My learned and accomplished friend, , has written a most interesting history, entitled One Generation of a Norfolk House. It is more or less the history of the in early times."

"During my childhood at Islington the vicar of Puddletown was of the fox-hunting sort, quite different to the modern conception of a clergyman. He was popular enough with his parishioners, though I suspect he never saw half of them till they came up to be buried."

"My dear mother was a great friend of the poet Samuel Rogers, and we often went to his breakfasts, which were at that time celebrated, for there were usually one or two great people present. His house at 22, was filled with pictures and curiosities; on a sideboard in the dining-room was a cast of the head of Pope by , whilst between the the fireplace and window was the poet's writing-table; there was an ingenious mechanical contrivance by means of which the larger pictures in the house could be moved from their place so as to be viewed in different lights. The library and drawing-room were on the first floor, the book-cases being surmounted by s, whilst by Sir Joshua Reynolds, hung over one of the two mantelpieces — the other, beautifully carved by , was crowned, I think, by a study by ; altogether, there were six or seven Reynolds's in the house, which was a real haven of artistic rest and repose."

"Not very far from is the quaint old town of , which, I believe, took its name from the de Pydeles, one of those Norman families which came into England with the Conqueror. The church is particularly interesting, being one of the very few unrestored ones in —a county which has suffered terribly at the hands of the . ... If only because Puddletown Church is the church of Mr. Hardy's ', it should be left untouched."

"Some territories are used for feeding alone and these are defended outside the breeding season. The is a well-known example. . In winter male and female occupy separate territories for feeding only."

"... we have to remember that the description given us by Herodotus represents the entry of the into . It is the starting-point of the phoenix myth as we know it today, the foundation of the story told by Métral, and the only solid evidence we have concerning the phoenix itself."

"True beauty is in the mind; and the expression of the features depends more upon the moral nature than most people are aware of."

"My heart to you is given: Oh, do give yours to me; We'll lock them up together, And throw away the key."

"Whenever the mind of the artist suffers itself to be occupied, during its periods of creation, by any other predominant motive than the desire of beauty, the result is false in art."

"There are certain very small flies, known as . The females of this species carry a dagger at the end of the abdomen, a dual-purpose tubular dagger. This dagger is known as the , or in more common terms, the organ for laying eggs. The female ichneumon stabs a in the back and lays an egg in its body. The egg hatches, the grub emerges and feeds on the green fly."

"... every shark is a survivor of an extremely archaic race, older even than the , and there is no need to describe what everyone, and especially the ocean-going seamen, think of sharks."

"Man's interest in consuming , as well as in using their feathers for warmth and their fat for lighting and heating, was behind their early domestication. Two goose species were involved, the and the , and two ducks, the and the . Features of all wildfowl domestication include large size, a reduced number of tail and wing feathers, flightlessness, rapid maturation, an increased clutch size, long breeding season, loss of 'broodiness' (so that the technique of artificial incubation becomes necessary at an early stage), loss of aggression, a polygamous mating system, and the laying down of abdominal fat."

"The is perhaps the evolutionary link between the , and the . The Mallard has been domesticated for over 2,500 years. the Romans initiated the process in Europe, and the Malays in Asia."

"Kear was instrumental in efforts to save the — from extinction. Over-exploitation and the introduction of the predatory to the had reduced an estimated 18th-century population of 25,000 to less than 30 by 1949. Three birds taken into captivity and sent to the WWT's , , headquarters formed the basis of a captive breeding programme. Thus were 200 reintroduced to Hawaii by the WWT during the 1960s, and more than 2,200 by the early 1990s. In the late 1970s, she moved from Slimbridge to become curator of in the north-west, making her the first woman in charge of a regional centre. She developed it into one of the most important in the WWT chain. It now attracts up to 20,000 and 1,300 s each winter, with large numbers of people enjoying the spectacle."

"The collection of down from the nests of s was a common practice among Eskimos and, in Iceland, the wild Eider Duck is farmed. In the early 1960s there were about 200 Eider farms in Iceland holding some 250,000 nesting females, each producing an average of 19 g. of cleaned down."

"Field Work’s aim is to broaden and insert nuance into our understanding of farming. Bathurst moves to live in a attached to Rise Farm, a 180-acre Welsh hill farm run by Bert and Alison Howell. ... Bathurst has a seemingly supernatural facility for getting people to speak to her about the land. ... I thought often of ’s glorious agricultural novel All Among the Barley while reading Field Work. Partly it’s the engagement with a dying way of life. Partly it’s the fact that both books understand how important accurate and specific language is to bringing this rural existence alive on the page. Bathurst has a seemingly supernatural facility for getting people to speak to her honestly and movingly about the land and their place within it. One passage, in which a young farmer describes night-time with her father, is among the loveliest pieces of writing I’ve read anywhere."

"It seems that publishers have awakened to the realization that the history of technology can provide some very good stories. Six years ago we had 's colorful account of 's epic struggle to make a , . Now Bella Bathurst has made an excellent yarn out of the careers of the who built most of the lighthouses around the coast of Scotland. The story was told with more solidity in 1978 by Craig Mair as A Star for Seamen. But not to worry: there is a splendid archive of Stevenson family material, much of it now in the , and Bathurst has drawn on this and other primary material to construct her story."

"Bathurst is a restless, curious writer, and she interweaves the story of her own experiences with imaginative research around hearing and sound. She interviews people who were and those who have , from army veterans to s to s. She visits an ear-splitting shipbuilders’ yard, and sits in an anechoic chamber; she interviews a professor of and an . In every chapter she comes up with gems of information. ... Bathurst’s story provides a satisfying narrative arc. After 12 years of her hearing gradually deteriorating, she was diagnosed with a disorder called , which can be cured by means of a delicate operation to the . Results are variable but in Bathurst’s case the operation was a success, and her hearing was almost completely recovered."

"Though few other countries had Britain's unique combination of advantages for a — island status, a vicious coastline, plenty of expensive traffic — almost every country with a coastline produced their own variants. There were Flemish wreckers, Spanish wreckers, Scandinavian wreckers. The French were such expert wreckers that they had been responsible for . In the , wrecks were so frequent that the eighteenth-century colonial government was estimated to derive two-fifths of its income from salvage."

"A difficulty for Hill is that many of the she celebrates will be no more than names to most readers. But she combats this by selecting details that bring them to life. , for example, co-founder of the , lived in picturesque squalor in an abandoned convent with an alcoholic wife and children who ran wild among the ruins. He eked out a living as a commercial artist and taught drawing to, among others, Gustave Flaubert, whose portrait he drew. ... Hill is a magnificent historian and commands a vast range of sources. Her great strength, as she showed in her witty book on Stonehenge, is that she is not inclined just to laugh at what seem ludicrous beliefs. Rather, she carefully unpicks them, showing what made them attractive to their cultures. Time’s Witness is a book to change the way you think about history."

"Seven years ago, I moved into a farm on a hill near Wales. Rise Farm was run by Bert and Alison Howell, a couple in their seventies whose son had gone to live in Spain and whose main source of assistance was now their two s – Bryn and a dog who for a long time I genuinely believed to be called Come Here You Useless Bugger. Rise was one of a declining number of small farms making the best of the high places in the , places which would once have represented a generous living but which now struggled by on rents, subsidy and the heart-attack price of lamb."

"gave Britain's capital cities two of their greatest landmarks, the , generally, if inaccurately, known as ,1 and, in Edinburgh, the . He built the first since 's and he r. But his influence depended not only, not even primarily, on his buildings, it was both wide and more elusive. He gave the nineteenth century a new idea about what architecture could be and mean. He saw it as moral force in society and as a romantic art. (p. 1) 1. It is in fact the bell that is called Big Ben. (p. 536)"

"The first detailed depiction of Stonehenge to survive is a , now in the , by . De Heere was a artist who lived in London from 1567 to 1577 and seems to have made another, less distinguished, contribution to the subject by carving his name on sarsen 53. Meanwhile, despite doubts about its reliability, , remained popular and its account of Stonehenge was repeated by other authors. Only with the Renaissance, the revival of classical scholarship and the dawn of the , did it begin to fall out favour, for the nature of history writing itself was changing."

"At this time, in 2004, I am deaf. Not completely deaf, just down to about 30 per cent of normal hearing. I had started to lose my hearing in both ears about seven years ago and it has been declining ever since. I wear s in both ears and when I take them out, I can hear individual fragments of sound but not really the links between them. Certain words in a sentence or specific sounds are audible, but music is only a beat and a voice is just a chain of broken s."

"Any very loud may eventually damage or disrupt the and lead to the death of s, whether that's an always on full volume or . Sometimes that damage results in hearing loss and sometimes it results in , where true sound is replaced by sounds the brain itself has made. Some people hear hissing or fizzing or clicking, or a steady like an internal . Tinnitus can be loud or soft, constant or intermittent, but of all the different kinds of s it's often considered the worst because it covers over the sounds that people want to hear with a drizzle of sound that they don't."

"In Holland, the subject of one of her most satisfying chapters, she marvels at a cycling landscape that could have been reclaimed from the sea with the bicycle in mind, and discovers that, far from taking to two wheels like ducks to water, doughty Dutch velocipedists of the mid-19th century were bombarded with stones and coal by locals who accused them of traumatising the . Modern Dutch cyclists have taken the land into their own hands. She examines a where, thanks partly to a parallel and partly to the "bizarre" notion that cyclists have a legal and moral right to exist, the accident rate per 100 cycled is 0.8 – a tenth of that in the UK."

"The ix. of July, at sixe of the clocke at night, in the Isle of Thanet besides Ramesgate in the Parish of Saint Peter under the Clift, a monstrous fish or Whale of the Sea did shoote himselfe on shore, where for want of water, beating himselfe on the sands, he dyed about sixe of the clocke in the next morning, before which time he roared, and was heard more than a mile on the land. The length of this Fish was two and twenty yards, the nether jaw twelve foote the opening, one of his eyes being taken out of his head, was more than sixe horse in a cart could draw, a man stoode upright in the place from whence the eye was taken, the thicknesse from the backe whereon he lay, to the toppe of his bellie (which was upward) was fourtéene foote, his tayle of the same breadth, betwéene his eyes twelve foote, thrée mē[n] stood upright in his mouth, some of the ribbes were xvi. foote lō[n]g, his tong was xv. foote long, his liver two cart loade, into his nostrels any man might have crept: the oyle being boyled out of the head was Parmasitie, the oile of his body was whitishe, and swéete of taste."

"Everybody has a reason behind their action and I do music because I am good at it."

"Give history to children in the form of lists of dates or lumps of data and they won’t respond to it at all, but give them an image King Charles II, say, , or a defeated Napoleon staring out at an empty ocean from the cliffs of ) and this could be something which might move and inspire them."

"I think, on a , what I’d really appreciate are long books: books as day-by-day companions, to combat loneliness and fear. We have some brilliant contemporary authors who write on the big canvas, yet I feel that desert-island panic might be better combated by novels set in the past, preferably by long-dead authors who had never experienced central heating or modern dentistry. Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, Balzac’s ' and Trollope’s ' (all with vibrant and courageous female protagonists, to spur me on to valour and fortitude) would be among my front runners. Reading contemporary novels would remind me, hour after hour, of the world I’d lost and might never regain. Tolstoy, on the other hand, reveals to me a universe I may never manage to understand in its entirety, so when I get to the end, I can happily start at the beginning again."

"... each page breathes a kind of magic, a sigh of enchantment that’s hard to capture in a short review. Somehow, Tremain has imbued her 16th novel with the freshness – and the intense bitter-sweetness – of a first book of the very best kind. Its themes of adolescence and betrayal, high style and evocation of period, remind me of Françoise Sagan’s equally slim ', though its particular also sets it apart from that book. And while the young Marianne lives in semi-rural Berkshire, and likes horses more than most human beings – the novel’s horsey sections will perhaps seem peculiar to readers who didn’t grow up on Anna Sewell or – its author’s careful delineation of her parents’ brittle, golf-club ways recalls Julian Barnes’s suburban-set . The details are exquisite. Here are bath cubes, and , and sauces made from marmalade to go with baked ham ..."

"I always tell the people close to me not to tell me about the things said/written about me. I tell them not to even defend me. They should allow the people who want to talk to continue talking."

"Votive Offerings is the general name given to those things vowed or dedicated to God, or a saint, and in consequence looked upon as set apart by this act of consecration. The idea is very old, for it springs from man's instinctive attitude towards the higher powers."

"At the heart of the Stoic doctrine lay a conviction which was...highly favorable to the development of a systematic natural science. For, first and foremost, the Stoics believed in 'determinism'; there was nothing willful about Nature, and everything happened according to law. The secret of human life was to fathom the general character of this universal order and to live in harmony with it. This conviction led certain of the Stoics to elaborate the scientific ideas inherited from their predecessors, but at the same time it reinforced them in beliefs which, to our eyes, appear superstitious. (Their belief in astrological divination...was justified by appealing to the harmony and interaction between celestial and terrestrial events.)"

"Different media of publication—textbooks, monographs, quarterlies, abstracts, and ‘review letters’—have been introduced, one after another, to meet new professional needs; and the historically changing operations of a scientific profession are reflected once more in the transfer of influence from one medium to another. The ‘s’ of seventeenth-century Europe were initially linked by the circulated correspondence of men like Henry Oldenburg. With the foundation of national academies, emphasis shifted to their Transactions and to treatises such as Newton’s Principia, which were published under their auspices. In subsequent centuries, the balance has again shifted several times: to quarterlies, to twice-monthly periodicals, weeklies, and even shorter-term publications. The proliferation of journals and the acceleration of publication are effects, in part of the fragmentation of sub-disciplines, in part of the sharpened competition for priority; but they are associated also with a great decentralization of scientific authority. Where no one can hope to master all the available concepts and theories, scientific professions were bound to move towards a pluralistic pattern of authority. On the very frontiers of research, indeed, we are now back not only with ‘invisible colleges’ but with a multiplicity of Oldenburgs, who circulate duplicated ‘prepublication’ material in highly specialized subjects to an international circle of equally specialized devotees. In the more self-consciously original branches of science—it has even been suggested—only out-of-date ideas ever actually get into print!"

"In Pascal's view, casuistry was the denial of true morality. It held out no vision of the ideals to which humans should aspire. It commanded no sacrifice, insisted on no heroic dedication. Not only did it trivialize the lofty precepts of the Gospel, it did not even hint at the "natural life of virtue" that had been espoused by Aristotle and Cicero. It was a mere farrago of excuses, loopholes, and evasions."

"In 1812, when he was retreating from the blood and confusion of Moscow and the disastrous , Napoleon had remarked that there was only a single step separating the sublime from the ridiculous. From moment that he was deposited on , until the day when his body was finally removed from the island twenty-five years later, the sublime and the ridiculous were often so closely intertwined that it was impossible to separate the one from the other. The servants and companions who were with him on the island still treated him with all the fear and respect that was owing to an , but the more they bobbed and bowed in Napoleon's presence and tried to maintain the illusion of , the more rigidly they need to shut out any mirror reflection of what they were doing and how they looked while they were doing it."

"Of course, was an eccentric, and his life story reads like something invented by Edgar Allan Poe with a certain amount of help from Richard Jefferies, but we have always needed the eccentrics to point the way. It was Waterton who warned the Americans, for example, of the ultimate cost of their profligate destruction of their forests. It was Waterton who fought against the beginnings of pollution in the Industrial Revolution. It was he who turned the grounds of into a , even maintaining trees with holes in them in which birds could nest and building a special bank for s."

"Julia Blackburn, who lives in , became interested in in the wake of her husband ’s death in 2013. Makkink was a Dutch artist (he made the sinister phallic murder weapon in ), and there was something magnetic about the idea of this vanished territory that had once connected their two homelands. A magpie anyway, eyes to the ground, always turning up oddities, she’d become fascinated by the immense age of the worked flints and fossilised bones she kept finding in the eroding cliffs of beach, a place where “things … often appear magically out of nowhere and then vanish with an equal magic”."

"The author’s father, , was “a poet and an alcoholic”; her mother, Rosalie de Meric, a painter and an exhibitionist. Both parents were breathtaking narcissists and dirty fighters. Until they divorced, when Julia was 13, they scrapped loudly and vigorously. Rosalie would often thrust Julia in front of her to act as a shield from her husband’s fists. Once a punch missed and hit the child. “So sorry darling,” Thomas said. “No blood I hope?”"

"Science has wonders far transcending those of superstition, and they are poor philosophers who try to bring Nature down to the level of their small capacities instead of striving to exalt those capacities to the height of creation's truth. No savage, worshipping the most preposterous idol, ever believed greater absurdities than a modern sceptic, who makes his small modicum of reason the standard by which to measure the boundless universe."

"The First Time she was grave, as well she might, For Women will be damn'd sullen the first Night; But faith, they'l quickly mend, so be n't uneasie: To Night she's brisk, and trys New Tricks to please ye."

"In order to try to see what Goya saw, I have visited the places he knew well: the village of his childhood, the farmhouse where he stayed with the , the cities of , Madrid, and, finally, . In my mind's eye I can look across the landscapes that he once travelled through. I can walk the same streets, I can gaze out of the window of the house in which he was born and the house in which he died. Maybe that is another way of meeting a a man who died."