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Daniel Deronda / compiled by John Dawson

 
dc.contributor Dawson, John Literary & Linguistic Computing Centre U of Cambridge
dc.contributor.author Eliot, George, 1819-1880
dc.date.accessioned 2018-07-27
dc.date.accessioned 2022-08-21T15:53:03Z
dc.date.available 2022-08-21T15:53:03Z
dc.date.created 1876
dc.date.issued 1976-01-01
dc.identifier ota:0048
dc.identifier.uri http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/0048
dc.description.abstract In English Title from University of Oxford Text Archive records
dc.format.extent Text data between 1 and 2 MB Contains markup characters
dc.format.medium Digital bitstream
dc.language English
dc.language.iso eng
dc.publisher University of Oxford
dc.relation.ispartof Oxford Text Archive Legacy Collection
dc.rights Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
dc.rights.uri http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/
dc.rights.label PUB
dc.subject.lcsh Novels -- Great Britain -- 19th century
dc.subject.other Novels
dc.title Daniel Deronda / compiled by John Dawson
dc.type Text
has.files yes
branding Oxford Text Archive
files.size 1309544
files.count 1
otaterms.date.range 1800-1899

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* Daniel Deronda

*B1
*X35
*C1
Men can dp nothing without the make-believe of a beginning.
Even Science, the strict measurer, is obliged to start with a make-believe
unit, and must fix on a point in the stars' unceasing journey
when his sidereal clock shall pretend that time is a Nought.
His less accurate grandmother Poetry has always been understood
to start in the middle; but on relfection it appears that her proceeding
is not very different from his; since Science, too, rech2kons
backwards as well as forwards, divides his unit into billions, and
with his clock-finger at Nought really sets of �in� �medias� �res�.
No retrospect will take us to the true beginning; and whether
our prologue be in heaven or on earth, it is but a fraction of
that all-presupposing fact with which our story sets out.

*M
*L1
Was she beautiful or not beautiful? and what was the
secret of form or ezpression which gave the dynamic
quality to her glance? Was the good or the evil genius
dominant in those beams? P . . .
										

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