Traveller Pre-intermediate Student's Book Download ##HOT##
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Traveller Pre-intermediate Student's Book Download ##HOT##
We hear much, and much that istrue, of the ephemeral character ofa large part of our literature; butto no branch of it are the observationsmore truly applicable, than tothe greater number of travels whichnow issue from the British press. Itmay safely be affirmed that our writersof travels, both male and female, haveof late years arrived at a pitch of weakness,trifling, and emptiness, which isunparalleled in the previous historyof literature in this or perhaps anyother country. When we see twopost octavos of travels newly done upby the binder, we are prepared for aseries of useless remarks, weak attemptsat jokes, disquisitions ondishes, complaints of inns, stale anecdotesand vain flourishes, which almostmake us blush for our country,and the cause of intelligence over theworld. The Russian Emperor, whounquestionably has the power oflicensing or prohibiting any of hissubjects to travel at his own pleasure,is said to concede the liberty only tothe men of intelligence and ability inhis dominions; the fools are all obligedto remain at home. Hence thehigh reputation which the Muscovitesenjoy abroad and the frequent disappointmentwhich is felt by travellersof other nations, when they visit theirown country. It is evident, from thecharacter of the books of travelswhich every spring issue from theLondon press, with a few honourableexceptions, that no such restrainingpower exists in the British dominions.We have no individuals or particularworks in view in these observations.We speak of things in general. If anyone doubts their truth, let him enquirehow many of the numberless travelswhich annually issue from the Britishpress are ever sought after, or heardof, five years after their publication.
What makes ordinary books oftravels so uninteresting, and, in general,so shortlived, is the want of anyidea of composition, or unity of effect,in the minds of their authors. Menand women seem to think that thereis nothing more to do to make a bookof travels, than to give a transcript oftheir journals, in which every thing isput down of whatever importance,provided only it really occurred.Scenes and adventures, broken wheelsand rugged rocks, cataracts and omelets,lakes and damp beds, thunderstormsand waiters, are huddled together,without any other thread ofconnexion than the accidental andfortuitous one of their having successivelycome under the notice of thetraveller. What should we say toany other work composed on thesame principle What if Milton,after the speech of Satan in ParadiseLost, were to treat us to an accountof his last dinner; or Shakspeare,after the scene of the bones in Juliet,were to tell us of the damp sheets inwhich he slept last night; or Gibbon,after working up the enthusiasm ofhis readers by the account of thestorming of Constantinople by theCrusaders, was to favour us with adigression on the insolence of thepostilions in Roumelia All theworld would see the folly of this: andyet this is precisely what is constantlydone by travellers, and toleratedby the public, because it is founded onnature. Founded on nature! Isevery thing that is actually true, orreal, fit to be recorded, or worthy ofbeing recounted Sketches from natureare admirable things, and are the onlyfoundation for correct and lastingpictures; but no man would think ofinterposing a gallery of paintings withchalk drawings or studies of trees.Correctness, fidelity, truth, are theonly secure bases of eminence in allthe arts of imitation; but the light ofgenius, the skilful arrangement, theprinciples of composition, the selectionof topics, are as necessary in the writerof travels, as in the landscape painter,the historian, or the epic poet.
The ship being about to proceed toByron's Bay, (the Hilo of the natives,)on the N.E. side of Owhyhee, towater, the captain arranged, that togive all opportunity to all those whowished to visit the volcano, distantfrom the anchorage forty miles, the excursionshould be