afterwards American amusing Anarchist Barker better Blanqui Bradlaugh Burt called CHAPTER character Charles Charles Bradlaugh Choppington Church classes committee crime crowd died Disraeli doctrine dynamite editor England English excitement F. W. Newman friends Garibaldi gentleman George George Jacob Holyoake Government Hall heard Howkies Hubbubboo James James Stansfeld John Joseph Barker Joseph Cowen journalist knew lady later lecture less lived London Lord Lord Palmerston Louis Napoleon Manchester Mazzini meeting morning Morpeth murder National Reformer never Newcastle newspaper night once orator Orsini pamphlet paper Park Parliament party Peter Alfred Taylor platform poet Poland political popular printed published race Radical Ravachol recollect Republic slavery social society speech story Street things Thomas Thomas Burt Thomson thought tion told took Town Moor Tyne Tyrannicide volume wanted Weekly Chronicle William workmen write wrote young
Էջ 431 - You lay a wreath on murdered LINCOLN'S bier; You, who with mocking pencil wont to trace, Broad for the self-complacent British sneer, His length of shambling limb, his furrowed face, His gaunt, gnarled hands, his unkempt, bristling hair, His garb uncouth, his bearing ill at ease, His lack of all we prize as debonair, Of power or will to shine, of art to please; You, whose smart pen backed up the pencil's laugh, Judging each step as though the way were plain: Reckless, so it could point its paragraph,...
Էջ 431 - The stars and stripes he lived to rear anew, Between the mourners at his head and feet, Say, scurrile jester, is there room for you?" Yes, he had lived to shame me from my sneer. To lame my pencil, and confute my pen, — To make me own this hind of princes peer, This rail-splitter a true-born king of men.
Էջ 508 - As it slipp'd through their jaws, when their edge grew dull ; As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed, So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Էջ 550 - All true work is sacred; in all true work, were it but true hand-labor, there is something of divineness. Labor, wide as the earth, has its summit in heaven. Sweat of the brow; and up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart; which includes all Kepler calculations, Newton meditations, all sciences, all spoken epics, all acted...
Էջ 647 - We don't want to fight, but by Jingo if we do, We've got the men, we've got the ships, we've got the money too, We've fought the Bear before, and while we're Britons true, The Russians shall not have Constantinople.
Էջ 365 - Murder ! — but what is murder ? When a wretch For private gain or hatred takes a life, We call it murder, crush him, brand his name. But when, for some great public cause, an arm Is, without love or hate, austerely raised Against a power exempt from common checks, Dangerous to all, to be but thus annull'd — Ranks any man with murder such an act...
Էջ 435 - Pay ransom to the owner And fill the bag to the brim. Who is the owner ? The slave is owner. And ever was. Pay him.
Էջ 556 - This is a world of compensation; and he who would be no slave must consent to have no slave. Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves, and, under a just God, cannot long retain it.
Էջ 586 - I am drawing near to the close of my career : I am fast shuffling off the stage. I have been, perhaps, the most voluminous author of the day ; and it is a comfort to me to think that I have tried to unsettle no man's faith, to corrupt no man's principles, and that I have written nothing which on my death-bed I should wish blotted.