In the latter, he was revered as the true and holy vicar of Christ, who, after a separation of six hundred years, had reconciled the Catholics of the East and West in one fold, and under one shepherd.
— from The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire Table of Contents with links in the HTML file to the two Project Gutenberg editions (12 volumes) by Edward Gibbon

[5869] Bodine's mind, that families have their bounds and periods as well as kingdoms, beyond which for extent or continuance they shall not exceed, six or seven hundred years, as they there illustrate by a multitude of examples, and which Peucer and [5870] Melancthon approve, but in a perpetual tenor (as we see by many pedigrees of knights, gentlemen, yeomen) continue as they began, for many descents with little alteration.
— from The Anatomy of Melancholy by Robert Burton

But the mere thought of such separation fevered his spirit much, and in the evening he said, with the stillness of suspense: “Have you seen Mr. Farfrae to-day, Elizabeth?” Elizabeth-Jane started at the question; and it was with some confusion that she replied “No.”
— from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy

Our friends took us to Kamakura; it isn’t interesting reading these things in advance in guide books, so I don’t think a description will be interesting, but something over seven hundred years ago, the first Shogun rulers settled there and made it their capital, of which nothing is now left save the Buddhist temples.
— from Letters from China and Japan by Harriet Alice Chipman Dewey

Oh, you’ve not been to see our school, have you?” “I’ve seen it....
— from Anna Karenina by Tolstoy, Leo, graf

You mean you’re the late Charlemagne; you must be six or seven hundred years old, at the very least.”
— from Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

About six or seven hundred years, however, after the death of the old prophet, a philosopher appeared, who, though he did not claim to have any communication with an unseen power, laid down the law with as much confidence as if such a power had inspired him.
— from Erewhon; Or, Over the Range by Samuel Butler

The book which contains this law, the first of all, is itself the most ancient book in the world, those of Homer, Hesiod, and others, being six or seven hundred years later.
— from Pascal's Pensées by Blaise Pascal

These chapters are right, now, in every detail, for they were rewritten under the immediate eye of William Hicks, who studied law part of a while in southwest Missouri thirty-five years ago and then came over here to Florence for his health and is still helping for exercise and board in Macaroni Vermicelli’s horse-feed shed which is up the back alley as you turn around the corner out of the Piazza del Duomo just beyond the house where that stone that Dante used to sit on six hundred years ago is let into the wall 16 when he let on to be watching them build Giotto’s campanile and yet always got tired looking as soon as Beatrice passed along on her way to get a chunk of chestnut cake to defend herself with in case of a Ghibelline outbreak before she got to school, at the same old stand where they sell the same old cake to this day and it is just as light and good as it was then, too, and this is not flattery, far from it.
— from The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson by Mark Twain

Surrounded by every form of animate and inanimate existence, the sun of science has yet penetrated but through the outer fold of nature's majestic robe; but if the philosopher were required to separate, from amongst those countless evidences of creative power, one being, the masterpiece of its skill; and from that being to select one gift, the choicest of all the attributes of life; turning within his own breast, and conscious of those powers which have subjugated to his race the external world, and of those higher powers by which he has subjugated to himself that creative faculty which aids his faltering conceptions of a deity, the humble worshipper at the altar of truth would pronounce that being, man; that endowment, human reason.
— from On the Economy of Machinery and Manufactures by Charles Babbage

One sense of shame, however, yet remains to him.
— from The Secrets of the Great City A Work Descriptive of the Virtues and the Vices, the Mysteries, Miseries and Crimes of New York City by James Dabney McCabe

“Well, my good Father Chupin, and what sort of sport have you had to-day?”
— from Monsieur Lecoq, v. 2 by Emile Gaboriau

You see, the rise of a foot in a place like that would make much more difference than two inches in the places where the river is spread out several hundred yards wide.
— from The Young Alaskans on the Trail by Emerson Hough

"Well, my dear," she said airily to Mrs. Spicer, "what sort of sport have you had?
— from All on the Irish Shore: Irish Sketches by E. Oe. (Edith Oenone) Somerville

And you shall not receiue nor take, nor suffer to be receiued or taken into your said ship during this voyage any maner person or persons whatsoeuer, going or returning, but onely those mariners which without fraud or guile shall be hired to be of your company, and to serue in mariners craft and science onely: so helpe you God, &c. These foresaid shippes being fully furnished with their pinnesses and boates, well appointed with al maner of artillerie, and other things necessary for their defence with al the men aforesaid, departed from Ratcliffe, and valed vnto Detford, the 10. day of May, 1553.
— from The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques and Discoveries of the English Nation — Volume 03 by Richard Hakluyt

Then came Bray and Wilkins, described on the yellow slip as Irish-American duettists, the finest humorists of two hemispheres, whose humour was not, perhaps, so much fine as broad, being conducted somewhat in this way: Bray, facing the audience, shouted, “Oi say; have you heard about me wife?” and Wilkins, also facing the audience, shouted back, “Oi have not heard about your wife;” after a whispered communication, Wilkins assumed incredulity, and said, “Oi don’t believe it, sorr,” and Bray, indignant, said, “It’s the truth I’m giving ye; a fine bouncing boy at eighteen minutes past five.” “Oi’ll not believe it,” persisted Wilkins, “it’s all your kid,” to which Bray replied indignantly, “It’s not my kid, sorr,” and Wilkins retorted at once, “Who’s kid is it, then?” Followed, tremendous personal chastisement, which made Bobbie laugh until tears came.
— from A Son of the State by W. Pett (William Pett) Ridge

When you speak of Sicily, however, you speak of a land that I too know well; and in regard to which I can enter into your enthusiasm.
— from Delaware; or, The Ruined Family. Vol. 1 by G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James