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Article REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. ← Page 4 of 9 →
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Review Of New Publications.
Letters ivrittc > i during a short residence in Sivedcn , Ncrivtty end Denmark . By Miry WolU . oiiecraft . % -vo . Pages-i !> $ . Price ij . Johnson . 179 6 . WE have in several former publicaions of Mrs . Wollstonecraft admired the strong—or , if the fair traveller will accept the epithet as a compfiiheiit , the nvscnline—mind of this female philosopher ; and these Letters f ' uriiish'us with new inducements to repeat it . The production before us is not ; indeed , written with laboured- accuracy : the thoughts are neither artfully arranged ,
nor expressed with studied elegar . ee ; and every sentiment appears to have been dictated by the present object , or the present occurrence , with no other care than to express it faithfully and forcibly ,: but if by fastidious delicacy this should bethought a deleft , it is amply compensated by the undistinguished disclosure of aneniightened and contemplative mind , and still more by the natural and energetic expression of feelings which do credit to the writer ' s heart , and will not fail to touch that of the reader ,
We shall first introduce the author to our readers in a mood of musing ' melancholy , on a summer ' s night , soon after'her arrival in Sweden : Nothing , in faft , can equal the beauty of the northern sumvrier ' s evening and night ; if night it may be called that only wants the glare of day , the full light , which frequently seems so impertinent : for I could write at midnig ht very well without a candle . 1 contemplated all nature at rest ; the rockseven grown darker in their appearance , looked as if they partook of
, the general repose , and inclined more heavily on their foundation . — 'What , I exclaimed , is this aftive principle which keeps me still awake ?—Why fly my thoughts abroad when every thing around me appears at home?—My child was sleeping , with equal calmness—^ innocent and sweet as the closingflower ' s . —Some recollections , attached to the idea of home , mingled with reflections respecting the state of society 1 had been contemplating that evening ^ made a tear drop on the rosy cheek I had just kissed ; and emotions that
trembled on the brink of ecstasy and agony gave a poignancy to my sensations , which made me feel more alive than usual . In this passage , we cannot help particularly pointing the attention of the reader to the highl y poetical image of the rocks looking as ' if they partook of the general repose , and reclining more heavily on their foundations . ' The glow of sensibility , which animates the passage , it is impossible not to admire . A gloomy obscurity hangs over the sentiment at the close , which we do not find ourselves capable of removing . Cf the writer ' s lively fancy , and tender ( perhaps ' morbid ) sensibility , we must give our readers a beautiful but affeCting specimen :
' Tonsberg was formerly the residence of one of the little sovereigns of Norway ; and on an adjacent mountain the vestiges of a fort remain , which was battered down by the Swedes ; the entrance of the bay lying close to if .-' Here I have frequently strayed , sovereign of the waste 1 seldom met any human creature ; and sometimes , reclining on the mossy down , under the shelter of a rock , the prattling of the sea amongst the pebbles has lulled me to sleep—no fear of any rude satyr ' s approaching to interrupt my repose .
Balmy were the slumbers , and soft the gales that refreshed me , when I . awoke to follow , with an eye vaguely curious , the white , sails , as they turned the cliffs , or seemed to take shelter under the pines which covered the little islands that so gracefully rose to render the terrific oce .-n beautiful . Thefishermen were calmly casting . their nets ; whilst the sea-gulls hovered over the unruffled deep . Every thing seemed to harmonize into tranquility—even the mournful call . of the bittern was in cadence with the tinkling bells on the necks , of the cows ,. that , pacing slowly one after the other , . along an inviting path in the vale below , were repairing to the cottages to be milked . With
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Review Of New Publications.
Letters ivrittc > i during a short residence in Sivedcn , Ncrivtty end Denmark . By Miry WolU . oiiecraft . % -vo . Pages-i !> $ . Price ij . Johnson . 179 6 . WE have in several former publicaions of Mrs . Wollstonecraft admired the strong—or , if the fair traveller will accept the epithet as a compfiiheiit , the nvscnline—mind of this female philosopher ; and these Letters f ' uriiish'us with new inducements to repeat it . The production before us is not ; indeed , written with laboured- accuracy : the thoughts are neither artfully arranged ,
nor expressed with studied elegar . ee ; and every sentiment appears to have been dictated by the present object , or the present occurrence , with no other care than to express it faithfully and forcibly ,: but if by fastidious delicacy this should bethought a deleft , it is amply compensated by the undistinguished disclosure of aneniightened and contemplative mind , and still more by the natural and energetic expression of feelings which do credit to the writer ' s heart , and will not fail to touch that of the reader ,
We shall first introduce the author to our readers in a mood of musing ' melancholy , on a summer ' s night , soon after'her arrival in Sweden : Nothing , in faft , can equal the beauty of the northern sumvrier ' s evening and night ; if night it may be called that only wants the glare of day , the full light , which frequently seems so impertinent : for I could write at midnig ht very well without a candle . 1 contemplated all nature at rest ; the rockseven grown darker in their appearance , looked as if they partook of
, the general repose , and inclined more heavily on their foundation . — 'What , I exclaimed , is this aftive principle which keeps me still awake ?—Why fly my thoughts abroad when every thing around me appears at home?—My child was sleeping , with equal calmness—^ innocent and sweet as the closingflower ' s . —Some recollections , attached to the idea of home , mingled with reflections respecting the state of society 1 had been contemplating that evening ^ made a tear drop on the rosy cheek I had just kissed ; and emotions that
trembled on the brink of ecstasy and agony gave a poignancy to my sensations , which made me feel more alive than usual . In this passage , we cannot help particularly pointing the attention of the reader to the highl y poetical image of the rocks looking as ' if they partook of the general repose , and reclining more heavily on their foundations . ' The glow of sensibility , which animates the passage , it is impossible not to admire . A gloomy obscurity hangs over the sentiment at the close , which we do not find ourselves capable of removing . Cf the writer ' s lively fancy , and tender ( perhaps ' morbid ) sensibility , we must give our readers a beautiful but affeCting specimen :
' Tonsberg was formerly the residence of one of the little sovereigns of Norway ; and on an adjacent mountain the vestiges of a fort remain , which was battered down by the Swedes ; the entrance of the bay lying close to if .-' Here I have frequently strayed , sovereign of the waste 1 seldom met any human creature ; and sometimes , reclining on the mossy down , under the shelter of a rock , the prattling of the sea amongst the pebbles has lulled me to sleep—no fear of any rude satyr ' s approaching to interrupt my repose .
Balmy were the slumbers , and soft the gales that refreshed me , when I . awoke to follow , with an eye vaguely curious , the white , sails , as they turned the cliffs , or seemed to take shelter under the pines which covered the little islands that so gracefully rose to render the terrific oce .-n beautiful . Thefishermen were calmly casting . their nets ; whilst the sea-gulls hovered over the unruffled deep . Every thing seemed to harmonize into tranquility—even the mournful call . of the bittern was in cadence with the tinkling bells on the necks , of the cows ,. that , pacing slowly one after the other , . along an inviting path in the vale below , were repairing to the cottages to be milked . With