Wilson had not included in his collection (I suppose because
of its translation by Sir William Jones), Ramohun Roy sent me a copy of
it, which I value extremely as a memento of so remarkable a man, but in
which I confess I am utterly unable to find the extraordinary beauty and
sublimity which he attributed to it, and of which I remember Goethe also
speaks enthusiastically (if I am not mistaken, in his conversations with
Eckermann), calling it the most wonderful production of human genius.
Goethe had not, any more than myself, the advantage of reading
"Sakuntala" in Sanskrit, and I am quite at a loss to account for the
extreme and almost exaggerated admiration he expresses for it.
JAMES STREET, BUCKINGHAM GATE, August 23, ----.
MY DEAREST H----,
I received your last on my return from the country, where I had
been staying a fortnight, and I assure you that after an
uncomfortable and rainy drive into town I found it of more service
in warming me than even the blazing fire with which we are obliged
to shame the month of August.
I have a great deal to tell you about our affairs, and the effect
that their unhappy posture seems likely to produce upon my future
plans and prospects.
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