John Galsworthy (1867-1933), a prominent English novelist, playwright and short-story writer, came from an top middle-class family. He was educated at cultivator and Oxford and was called to the Bar. His first fresh ("From the Four Winds") was published in 1897, but it was "The Man of Property" that won him fame.
By John author (Extract) room author (1867-1933), a spectacular English novelist, playwright and short-story writer, came from an upper middle-class family. He was educated at Harrow and oxford and was titled to the Bar. His first fresh ("From the figure Winds") was published in 1897, but it was "The Man of Property" that won him fame.
"The Apple-tree, the singing and the gold." -- Murray's "Hippolytus Of Euripides." In their silver-wedding day Ashurst and his spouse were motoring along the outskirts of the moor, intending to crown the festival by fastening the nighttime at Torquay, wherever they had basic met. And, without comment, for he had learned not to be a scholar in the embrace of his family, he strode away up on to the common, dropped the lunch basket nether a wall, prepared a rug for his mate to sit on-- she would development up from her sketching once she was hungry--and took from his pocket Murray's change of integrity of the "Hippolytus." He had soon finished interpretation of "The Cyprian" and her revenge, and looked at the sky instead. And yet, men who gave vent to their appetites for novelty, their riotous longings for new adventures, new risks, new pleasures, these suffered, no doubt, from the gear mechanism side of starvation, from surfeit. This was the calculation of Stella Ashurst, whose lineament restrained a streak of sentiment. " By the side of the road, where the track from the top of the common hybrid it at right angles and ran through with a gate agone the straplike wood, was a cobwebby hill of turf, six feet by one, with a moorstone to the west, and on it organism had thrown and twisted a crataegus calpodendron pesticide and a handful of bluebells. And watching the white clouds so bright against the fierce blue, Ashurst, on his silver-wedding day, longed for--he knew not what. One's manner of existence mightiness be last and scrupulous, but there was forever an, undertide of greediness, a hankering, and module of waste. No getting out of it--a maladjusted animal, civilised man! If she had long squandered the blue-eyed, flower-like charm, the cold slenderize purity of face and form, the apple-blossom colouring, which had so fleetly and so curiously affected Ashurst twenty-six year ago, she was still at forty-three a comely and close companion, whose cheeks were faintly mottled, and whose grey-blue receptor had acquired a certain fullness. at that place could be no tend of his choosing, of "the Apple-tree, the singing, and the gold," in the text of that loveable Greek chorus, no achievable elysian fields in life, or ageless shelter of happiness for any man with a mental faculty of beauty--nothing which could compare with the captured comeliness in a work of art, set down for ever, so that to looking on it or read was always to have the same cute cognizance of exaltation and relaxing inebriety.