hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in descending order. Sort in ascending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Goethe 138 0 Browse Search
Florence (Italy) 90 0 Browse Search
Angelo Eugene Ossoli 76 0 Browse Search
Margaret Fuller 69 5 Browse Search
Marchesa Ossoli 52 0 Browse Search
Michel Angelo 48 0 Browse Search
Groton (Massachusetts, United States) 47 5 Browse Search
France (France) 46 0 Browse Search
Department de Ville de Paris (France) 44 0 Browse Search
Rieti (Italy) 44 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing). Search the whole document.

Found 460 total hits in 226 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 ...
Concord (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
n speaks with a certain tenderness and beauty of the impressions made upon her. to—— Fishkill, 25 Nov., 1844.—You would have been happy as I have been in the company of the mountains. They are companions both bold and calm. They exhilarate and they satisfy. To live, too, on the bank of the great river so long, has been the realization of a dream. Though I have been reading and thinking, yet this has been my life. After they were all in bed, she writes from the Manse, in Concord, I went out, and walked till near twelve. The moonlight filled my heart. These embowering elms stood in solemn black, the praying monastics of this holy night; full of grace, in every sense; their life so full, so hushed; not a leaf stirred. You say that nature does not keep her promise; but, surely, she satisfies us now and then for the time. The drama is always in progress, but here and there she speaks out a sentence, full in its cadence, complete n its structure; it occupies<
Newport (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
ut rather for pleasurable excitement than with a deep poetic feeling. Her imperfect vision and her bad health were serious impediments to intimacy with woods and rivers. She had never paid,—and it is a little remarkable,—any attention to natural sciences. She neither botanized, nor geologized, nor dissected. Still she delighted in short country rambles, in the varieties of landscape, in pastoral country, in mountain outlines, and, above all, in the sea-shore. At Nantasket Beach, and at Newport, she spent a month or two of many successive summers. She paid homage to rocks, woods, flowers, rivers, and the moon. She spent a good deal of time out of doors, sitting, perhaps, with a book in some sheltered recess commanding a landscape. She watched, by day and by night, the skies and the earth, and believed she knew all their expressions. She wrote in her journal, or in her correspondence, a series of moonlights, in which she seriously attempts to describe the light and scenery of s
Groton (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
all find it so. I have been reading Plato all the week, because I could not write. I hoped to be tuned up thereby. I perceive, with gladness, a keener insight in myself, day by day; yet, after all, could not make a good statement this morning on the subject of beauty. She had, indeed, a rude strength, which, if it could nave been supported by an equal health, would have given her the efficiency of the strongest men. As it was, she had great power of work. The account of her reading in Groton is at a rate like Gibbon's, and, later, that of her writing, considered with the fact that writing was not grateful to her, is incredible. She often proposed to her friends, in the progress of intimacy, to write every day. I think less than a daily offering of thought and feeling would not content me, so much seems to pass unspoken. In Italy, she tells Madame Arconati, that she has more than a hundred correspondents; and it was her habit there to devote one day of every week to those di
Niagara County (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
e ses pieds on peut voir la poussiere Empreinte encore sur le bandeau des rois. I admire, also, Le Violon brise, for its grace and sweetness. How fine Beranger on Waterloo!— Its name shall never sadden verse of mine. To R. W. E. Niagara, 1st June, 1843. I send you a token, made by the hands of some Seneca Indian lady. If you use it for a watch-pocket, hang it, when you travel, at the head of your bed, and you may dream of Niagara. If you use it for a purse, you can put in Niagara. If you use it for a purse, you can put in it alms for poets and artists, and the subscription-money you receive for Mr. Carlyle's book. His book, as it happened, you gave me as a birthday gift, and you may take this as one to you; for, on yours, was W.'s birthday, J.'s wedding-day, and the day of——'s death, and we set out on this journey. Perhaps there is something about it on the purse. The number five which nature loves. is repeated on it. Carlyle's book I have, in some sense, read. It is witty, full of pictures, as usual. <
dially than any other person, she was little read in Shakspeare; and I believe I had the pleasure of making her acquainted with Chaucer, with Ben Jonson, with Herbert, Chapman, Ford, Beaumont and Fletcher, with Bacon, and Sir Thomas Browne. I was seven years her senior, and had the habit of idle reading in old English books, and, though not much versed, yet quite enough to give me the right to lead her. She fancied that her sympathy and taste had led her to an exclusive culture of southern European books. She had large experiences. She had been a precocious scholar at Dr. Park's school; good in mathematics and in languages. Her father, whom she had recently lost, had been proud of her, and petted her. She had drawn, at Cambridge, numbers of lively young men about her. She had had a circle of young women who were devoted to her, and who described her as a wonder of intellect, who had yet no religion. She had drawn to her every superior young man or young woman she had met, and w
Waterloo, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
ronne, he says: It was in his printing-house that I was put to prentice; not having been able to learn orthography, he imparted to me the taste for poetry, gave me lessons in versification, and corrected my first essays. Of Bonaparte,— Un conquerant, dans sa fortune altiere, Se fit un jeu des sceptres et des lois, Et de ses pieds on peut voir la poussiere Empreinte encore sur le bandeau des rois. I admire, also, Le Violon brise, for its grace and sweetness. How fine Beranger on Waterloo!— Its name shall never sadden verse of mine. To R. W. E. Niagara, 1st June, 1843. I send you a token, made by the hands of some Seneca Indian lady. If you use it for a watch-pocket, hang it, when you travel, at the head of your bed, and you may dream of Niagara. If you use it for a purse, you can put in it alms for poets and artists, and the subscription-money you receive for Mr. Carlyle's book. His book, as it happened, you gave me as a birthday gift, and you may take thi
West Roxbury, Mass. (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
of this prayer is sometimes terrible to me! I walk over the burning ploughshares, and they sear my feet. Yet nothing but truth will do; no love will serve that is not eternal, and as large as the universe; no philanthropy in executing whose behests I myself become unhealthy; no creative genius which bursts asunder my life, to leave it a poor black chrysalid behind. And yet this last is too true of me. She describes a visit made in May, 1844, at the house of some valued friends in West Roxbury, and adds: We had a long and deep conversation, happy in its candor. Truth, truth, thou art the great preservative! Let free air into the mind, and the pestilence cannot lurk in any corner. And she uses the following language in an earnest letter to another friend:— My own entire sincerity, in every passage of life, gives me a right to expect that I shall be met by no unmeaning phrases or attentions. Reading to-day a few lines of——, I thought with refreshment of such liv<
Milan, Sullivan County, Missouri (Missouri, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
ables of wizard, enchantress, and the like; these beings are scarcely good, yet not necessarily bad. Power tempts them. They draw their skills from the dead, because their being is coeval with that of matter, and matter is the mother of death. In later days, she allowed herself sometimes to dwell sadly on the resistances which she called her fate, and remarked, that all life that has been or could be natural to me, is invariably denied. She wrote long afterwards:— My days at Milan were not unmarked. I have known some happy hours, but they all lead to sorrow, and not only the cups of wine, but of milk, seem drugged with poison, for me. It does not seem to be my fault, this destiny. I do not court these things,— they come. I am a poor magnet, with power to be wounded by the bodies I attract. Temperament. I said that Margaret had a broad good sense, which brought her near to all people. I am to say that she had also a strong temperament, which is that counter
Saint Francis (Arkansas, United States) (search for this): chapter 4
cted like a girdle, to give tension to her powers. A lady, who was with her one day during a terrible attack of nervous headache, which made Margaret totally helpless, assured me that Margaret was yet in the finest vein of humor, and kept those who were assisting her in a strange, painful excitement, between laughing and crying, by perpetual brilliant sallies. There were other peculiarities of habit and power. When she turned her head on one side, she alleged she had second sight, like St. Francis. These traits or predispositions made her a willing listener to all the uncertain science of mesmerism and its goblin brood, which have been rife in recent years. She had a feeling that she ought to have been a man, and said of herself, A man's ambition with a woman's heart, is an evil lot. In some verses which she wrote To the Moon, occur these lines:— But if I steadfast gaze upon thy face, A human secret, like my own, I trace; For, through the woman's smile looks the male ey
France (France) (search for this): chapter 4
t it for me, for I am more curious than ever. I had supposed the view taken by these persons in France, to be the same with that of Novalis and the German Catholics, in which I have been deeply interupon our murky sky, and the flute soupire from the quarter where we least expect it. La jeune France! I had not believed in this youthful pretender. I thought she had no pure blood in her veins, nnd the movement which the same causes have produced in belles-lettres. I perceive that la jeune France is the legitimate, though far younger sister of Germany; taught by her, but not born of her, but I wish to speak of one among them, aided, honored by them, but not of them. He is to la jeune France rather the herald of a tourney, or the master of ceremonies at a patriotic festival, than a warrwaiting for war. For these young persons could not believe that peace and calm were possible to France; could not believe that she could lead any life but one of conquest. As De Vigny was graduall
1 2 3 4 5 6 ...