The Mistress Is A Widow, Her Daughter Is Married To A Pilot, And Has
Three Cows.
They have a little patch of land at about the distance
of two English miles, where they make hay for the winter, which they
bring home in a boat.
They live here very cheap, getting money from
the vessels which stress of weather, or other causes, bring into
their harbour. I suspect, by their furniture, that they smuggle a
little. I can now credit the account of the other houses, which I
last night thought exaggerated.
I have been conversing with one of my companions respecting the laws
and regulations of Norway. He is a man within great portion of
common sense and heart - yes, a warm heart. This is not the first
time I have remarked heart without sentiment; they are distinct.
The former depends on the rectitude of the feelings, on truth of
sympathy; these characters have more tenderness than passion; the
latter has a higher source - call it imagination, genius, or what you
will, it is something very different. I have been laughing with
these simple worthy folk - to give you one of my half-score Danish
words - and letting as much of my heart flow out in sympathy as they
can take. Adieu! I must trip up the rocks. The rain is ever. Let
me catch pleasure on the wing - I may be melancholy to-morrow. Now
all my nerves keep time with the melody of nature. Ah! let me be
happy whilst I can.
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