Jean-Jacques Rousseau and the Cosmopolitan Spirit in Literature: A Study of the Literary Relations Between France and England During the Eighteenth CenturyDuckworth and Company, 1899 - 393 Seiten |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
abbé Addison admiration André Chénier antiquity appeared beauty Bibliothèque Bibliothèque britannique character Chateaubriand Clarissa Clarissa Harlowe classical contemporaries cosmopolitan criticism Desfontaines Diderot drama edition eighteenth century England English literature English novels Essai Europe everything expression feeling fiction foreign Français France French literature Frenchmen Garat genius German Goethe Grandison heart Histoire human idea imitation influence intellectual Jean-Jacques Jean-Jacques Rousseau Journal encyclopédique Journal étranger language Lesage less letters literary littéraire littérature London Lovelace manner Marivaux melancholy Mémoires Molière Montesquieu moral Muralt nation nature never Nouvelle Héloïse novelists opinion Ossian Pamela Paris passion philosophical poems poet poetry Pope praise Prévost published readers refugees regard religion Revolution Richardson Robinson Crusoe romantic Rousseau Saint-Hyacinthe sentiment Shakespeare soul speak Staël Sterne Suard success taste Thomson thought tion Tom Jones translated Trévoux Tristram Shandy true truth virtue Voltaire volume writers wrote Young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 327 - When the world is dark with tempests; when thunder rolls and lightning flies; thou lookest in thy beauty, from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season, thy years will have an end. Thou shall sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning.
Seite 194 - Why, Sir, if you were to read Richardson for the story, your impatience would be so much fretted that you would hang yourself. But you must read him for the sentiment, and consider the story as only giving occasion to the sentiment.
Seite 295 - Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life ; Till, in the western sky, the downward sun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush Of broken clouds, gay-shifting to his beam. The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes Th...
Seite 326 - O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; and the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave; but thou thyself movest alone.
Seite 137 - Tis yet unperformed — What if I quit my bloody purpose, and fly the place I [Going, then stops.] But whither, oh, whither shall I fly ? My master's once friendly doors are ever shut against me ; and without money Millwood will never see me more ; and she has got such firm possession of my heart, and governs there with such despotic sway, that life is not to be endured without her.
Seite 310 - And fated to survive the transient Sun ! By mortals and immortals seen with awe ! A starry crown thy raven brow adorns, An azure zone thy waist ; clouds, in heaven's loom Wrought through varieties of shape and shade, In ample folds of drapery divine, Thy flowing mantle form, and, heaven throughout, Voluminously pour thy pompous train...
Seite 136 - What are your laws, of which you make your boast, but the fool's wisdom and the coward's valour? the instrument and screen of all your villainies, by which you punish in others what you act yourselves, or would have acted had you been in their circumstances. The judge who condemns the poor man for being a thief had been a thief himself had he been poor.
Seite 298 - Be not too narrow, husbandmen ! but fling From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth, The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful think ! How good the GOD of HARVEST is to you: Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields...
Seite 317 - No slaves revere them, and no wars invade : Yet frequent now, at midnight's solemn hour, The rifted mounds their yawning cells unfold, And forth the monarchs stalk with sovereign power, In pageant robes, and wreathed with sheeny gold, And on their twilight tombs aerial council hold.
Seite 325 - He lifted high his shadowy spear! He bent forward his dreadful height. Fingal, advancing, drew his sword; the blade of dark-brown Luno.* The gleaming path of the steel winds through the gloomy ghost. The form fell shapeless into air, like a column of smoke, which the staff of the boy disturbs, as it rises from the half-extinguished furnace.