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But one of the greateft beauties of Goldfmith's defcriptions is 

 the embellifliment of his landfcapes by his figures. Every fcene 

 with him is alive, and even defolation is made more afted- 

 ing by the fad hiflorian of the penfive plain whom he intro- 

 duces. This is the great art of interefting the reader : we may- 

 contemplate with pleafure or with furprize inanimate nature, 

 but our feelings are for man. The landfcape in return may by 

 its afTociations refled: congenial impreffions, and of fuch Gold- 

 fmith takes advantage in the beginning of his Deferted Village, 

 where the enumeration of affeding objeds of ruin and decay 

 naturally gives a melancholy call to the mind. It is idle then 

 to complain, as has been done, that our pity is there excited 

 for what cannot fuffer — for a brook — or a glade — or a walk — 

 or a wall. We do not feel for the inanimate objed : our 

 minds are only prc-difpofed by the review of thefe melancholy 

 fcenes to feel pity for the perfons who are afterwards defcribed, 

 and our feelings are for the peafants who have been compelled 

 to emigrate from Auburn. The folemn darknefs of a Gothic 

 cathedral is not religion, but its efficacy to produce an awe 

 on the mind which fits it for the reception of religious im- 

 prefllons is indifputable — and he muft have none of the verfa- 

 tility of human fancy or the fympathies of the human heart 

 who could fo rivet his attention to the externals of the fcene 

 of defolation as not to recur to the condition of thofe who 

 had formerly been its inhabitants, 



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