Washington sentinel. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1853-1855, 1854-02-14
MRS. mowArr,s AUTOBIOGRAPHY

| 1t is with books as withpeople. We are pre-
pared to greet some kindly, others coldy, long be
fore we have made their acquaintance. Some
times our prepossessions prove incorrect. What
we expected to love we turn out to hate, and
what we expected to hate we are constrained
to love. Although we had never seen Mrs.
Mowatt's book, or read line in relation to it ex-
cept the booksellers advertisement, the inelina-
ton Of our mind was most favorable towards it.
We took it up with pleasant expectation. We
took it up prepared to admire; we have laid it
down actually in love. The style is easy.
fluent, and elegant. IT is moreover accurate
1t is ever and anon embellshed with the richest
gems Of poetical thought. Sometimes pa
thetic, sometimes playful, it is always inte-
resting. Ithas nothing of the bluestocking in
it. It makes no ostentatious display OF learn
ing, and employs no tragical starts for effect
Acquainted with several foreign languages
French, German, and an-Mrs. Mowatt has
the good taste to avoid all parade Of her learn
ing. When she writes English, she writes
English, and does not interlard and dis6gure her
narrative, as most writers possessed OF the lam
guages would do, with miserable jargon, COM
pounded Of French, Italian, German, and Eng
lish. Her book is remarkable for many things.
It takes no liberties with names, or with conf
dences. 1t is entirely free from small gossip.
It makes no boast of the high associations Of
its author. It abuses nobody; it courts favor
with nobody. It is neither libeller nor a
Aatterer. There is not an ill-natured line it.
It manifests no distrust Of human charities
and affections. Discontents, complaints, and
misanthropic murmnrings find no place in it..
It is entirely free from vulgar egotism and
ridiculous vanity. The thoughts, the words,
the illusions are as pure as the driven snow.
1t is entirely free from tedious difuseness and
irksome verbosity. It expresses fully, but sem
tentiously, what it undertakes to tell. lis the
loveiest, the most faultless autobiography that
we ever read It does not pretend to be great
book. 1t is only a narrative of experiences
and of incidents, and as such it is difficult to
point out its equal tits the book Of a modest,
sensible, cultivated, and perfect lady. No one
at all fond Of reading can open this volume
without reading II; and we defy any one to
read it without being impressed with the genius,
the delicacy, the refinement, the loveliness Of
the fair authoress. sG bi 4 5Ss6r
In order to give our readers some insight
into the book, and to induce them to read it,
we propose giving, in our own language, a brief
sketch of Mrs. Mowatt, from her childhood to
the present time. 1t must necessarily be brief
and unsatisfactory: ..4 s1.9
She is Of patrician birth. Her father, Sam
uel G. Ogden, Of New York, son Of an Episco-
pal clergyman, was for years prominent and
successful merchant, and was the capitalist
in the celebrated Miranda expedition which
was designed to lberate South America Her
mother, Eliza Ogden, was the granddaughter of
Francis Lewis, one of the signers of the Declara-
ton Of Independence. Anna Cora Ogden (no,c
Mowatt) was born at Bordeaux in France, dur
ing the residence there for few years of her pa
rents. Her earliest recolections are of beau
tiful old country-seat called La Castagne, two
miles from Bordeaux, to which her parents
removed. She thus describes i'll ~ have
dim but most delightful remembrances of La
Castagne, which come to me like halfforgotten
dreams. ! remember a magnificent terrace,
where we children used to frolic beautiful
walk called Alice dAmour,' lined with tall
trees, whose branches met and formed bower
over the head; a large pond, surrounded with
statues and filed with fishes, which it was our
daily delight to feed; a gaily-painted pleasure
boat, always foa-ing on the pond; grotto
called Calypso's Grotto;' miniature water
fall, our great wonder and admiration--the
whole place very Eden of fruits and flowers"
Of her fathers children, there we're seven;
FIVE brothers and two sisters. One Of their
favorite amusements was to raise guinea-pigs,
which they loved while living, and very piously
and honorably buried when they died. Another
favorite amusement was the performance Of
private plays, in which our authoress partici-
pated when she was but FIVE years old. Her
parents returned to New York with their fami
ly. Then came her school days; but frequent
attacks Of sickness combining her to the house,
QUO nav ASSouiou w iCuuHS, uuu ItHl I'll Tie
books she could lay her hands on. OF poetry
she was never tired, and at ten years of age
had read oil OF shakspeare's plays many times
over She grew romantic and wrote verses.
The fear of ridicule restrained her from show
ing them, but she sometimes managed clandes-
timely to throw them in the way Of the family.
On reading one of these poems, her father
said: "They are not very good grammar, but
they are quite pretty for oil that. Who knows
what my little chicken may turn out one of
these days ~ She, made much progress at
school in some studies such as poetry, mythol-
ogy, history, physiology, mental philosophy;
but the multiplication table, sums in the rule
Of three, and French verbs were her "child-
hoods miserios,p She was merry, mischievous,
and ungovernably gay. AT fourteen she con-
ceived the project Of a grand celebration in
honor of her fathers birthday. It was the
performance of a standard play. vohaire's
Alpire was selected Costumes were nrocprad